GET THE HELL OFF OUR LAWN (part 2)07/19/2006
"OUTTA THE FRICKIN' WAY!" Delivery Man #1 shoves a two people back, one into the other. Right behind him are Delivery Men #2 and #100, supporting Dick Kiebiech and helping him along. Kiebiech has a massive welt on the side of his forehead, and as the big Delivery Man clears a path, the smaller ones help walk Kiebiech to the barricade of police officers claring to let them leave-- FRZZZK. His mohawk glistening like sticky fingers, Krusty Kid Paul shoves an old man down, and then raising his Doc Martens as high as he can, brings it down sickeningly hard on his chest. "NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M (BLEEP)IN' TALKIN' ABOUT!" Bob Barker wheezes and clutches his ribs, right before Paul resumes raining down boot shots right to the top of his hands-- FRZZZK. "AINSLEYWHEREAREYOU?!!" The old man hat gone, the suspenders torn off, Jared Walsh, eyes running, is frantically trying to swim through a crowd of people that don't know where they're fleeing to. His chest is straining to hold his head high, trying to look ABOVE the crowd, gagging loudly through his mouth as he runs INTO the drift of the tear gas canisters. "AIIIIIINSLLLLEYYY--HURRRR--AAAAAAIIIIIIINS!!!"-- FRZZZK. Across the street at the Library Second Cup, a crowd of escaped fans and on-lookers have gathered, talking excitedly amongst themselves, snapping photos on their cell phones . . . "MOVE IT!" Crash Carver, in warm-ups, weary, runs at the crowd, waving his arms wildly. "What's WRONG with you! Don't just CROSS THE STREET--keep RUNNING! GO! NOW!" The crowd, seemingly all at once, collectively "snaps out of it" and start fleeing around the corner. "GO! RUN! KEEP RUNNING!!!" Carver turns around, looking back at the smoke and screams across the street from him in Churchill Square. "Damn it! DAMN IT!!!"-- FRZZZK. Ravager and Evan Cartwright standing between an angry mob and Robert Winchell III, Winchell streaking straight for the entrance to the CBC Building across the street. One adventuruous drunk makes a run for them and is almost immediately caught in a clinch by Evan. Ravager administers some swift rabbit punches to the assailant, then Evan tosses him back like a sack of laundry. Two more guys try it, and Evan is able to neutralize his opponent the same way as Ravager, fresh from his match, eats a couple of swift punches to the face. Ravager lashes out and grabs the man by the throat, then slams a roundhouse punch to the man's temple, and then a straight shot to the man's face, smashing the man's nose-- FRZZZK. "Again." Ravager lashes out and grabs the man by the throat, then slams a roundhouse punch to the man's temple, and then a straight shot to the man's face, smashing the man's nose-- FRZZZK. "Again." Ravager lashes out and grabs the man by the throat, then slams a roundhouse punch to the man's temple, and then a straight shot to the man's face, smashing the man's nose-- FRZZZK. "Again." Ravager lashes out and grabs the man by the throat, then slams a roundhouse punch to the man's temple, and then a straight shot to the man's face, smashing the man's nose-- FRZZZK. "Again." Ravager lashes out and grabs the man by the throat, then slams a roundhouse punch to the man's temple, and then a straight shot to the man's face, smashing the man's nose-- FRZZZK. FFRZZZZZZZZKK. On the Polish Hall's video screen, Robert Joseph Winchell stands, the NAPW interview backdrop behind him. And the crowd lets him HAVE IT. JOSEPH WINCHELL: You know, I think I could watch that all day long, don't you? The crowd's venom hasn't died down yet, but Winchell doesn't register anything except a smile. JOSEPH WINCHELL: Oh, COME now, people, if you were really disgusted by what you saw then you wouldn't have sold out Polish Hall. You can lie to your parents, you can lie to your children, but you can't lie to the NAPW. And baby, I'm it. BOOOO! JOSEPH WINCHELL: Boo me all you want, Hell, never come to another NAPW show for all I care. Because the scenes you just saw are nothing. They're the tip of the iceberg. You've seen minutes, we've got hours worth of footage just like that that's going to be on the NAPW Get The Hell Off Our Lawn DVD. We're not breaking any laws, We were Johnny-On-The-Spot with cameras for the whole damn thing, and once word of what went down goes on the Internet, hardcore wrestling fans are gonna leave us in back-orders for the next eight months! It's going to be the GREATEST. SELLING. NAPW product of ALL TIME. THIS is going to be the NAPW's public face-- FRZZZK. Ravager lashes out and grabs the man by the throat, then slams a roundhouse punch to the man's temple, and then a straight shot to the man's face, smashing the man's nose-- FRZZZK. JOSEPH WINCHELL: --and I have you, the NAPW fans, to THANK. BOOOOOOOOOO!!! JOSEPH WINCHELL: Look for the DVD EVERYWHERE fine entertainment is sold, August 1st--why wait? We're getting it OUT there. But for the thousand of you here in attendance, and for the now-MILLIONS of you watching on your TVs and computers because you're just DYING to see what happens next . . . I! GIVE! YOU! Get The Hell Off Our Lawn . . . TWOOOOO!!!
"MOVE! And show me what you can do The Polish Hall, the traditional venue for NAPW, is semi-full. The NAPW street team has been busy all day long, passing out flyers and letting as many people know as possible that NAPW will FINISH Get The Hell Off The Lawn tonight, at the Polish Hall. Of course, it probably cost a bucket to get the hall on short notice... and pushing that wedding reception out of it, too. Regardless of it all, New Alberta Pro is on the air! BILL HEWSON: Welcome once again, wrestling fans, to our second try at Get The Hell Off Our Lawn. If you did not join us last night, well, the opening video montage showed you what happened. But what our venerable new Commissioner Joseph Winchell failed to show... was how he SCREWED Rex Caliber out of a victory over Ravager last night. And that disgusting display, the gang warfare that erupted last night against Rex Caliber and newcomer Promo --- not to mention poor Wayne Wright --- sent a hot, rowdy crowd over the edge. JACK JONES: Way to go Edmonton, first you riot when the Oilers win a series, then you riot cos a wrestling match goes sour. It's the booze, Winchell, these idiot Albertans can't go to a big game without getting hosed on dollar high-balls. They're a disgrace to this city, and a disgrace to wrestling fans in BETTER cities. BILL HEWSON: That's your opinion, and you're entitled to it. I'm Bill Hewson alongside Jack Attack Jones, and what we have for you tonight streaming live off of the NAPW.ca website is Get The Hell Off Our Lawn PART TWO. Every advertised match that was not able to take place last night will happen tonight, including two big title matches: Patrick Bickle defends his Kiniski Cup against the cinderella man, the unexpected Dextro! And in the big main event, fan-favorite D! will square off against Static with the NAPW Heavyweight Title on the line. JACK JONES: Don't forget, that match happens IMMEDIATELY after D! gets the honor of squaring off against the Vicious Phenom DEVASTATION. And how about Winchell's ruling? Rex Caliber, Promo and Wayne Wright are banned from the building. And if they show up, they're FIRED from New Alberta Pro, no ifs ands or buts! BILL HEWSON: I gotta question that decision by Winchell. And as much as I like him, I also have to question D!'s decision to wrestle two matches in one night! You have to wonder, after his hard-fought contest with the legendary Karl "The Dragon" Brown this past Sunday, exactly how much gas D! has left in the tank. But right now, let's go to the ring, because you, the fans, deserve to get the show you didn't last night! Let's get down to WRESTLING. "Waterloo" by ABBA starts to play, and the fans begin to jeer in response. The fabulous Lance emerges, and holds back the curtain for Dan The Man and Thor Heinie...Team Man. The three men delicately make their way down to the aisle, ignoring the hostile reception. FRANK WARBURTON: This next bout is a tag team match, scheduled for one fall with a 20 minute time limit. Introducing first, now entering the ring, at a combined weight of five-hundred and fifty pounds and accompanied by their personal stylist Lance...Dan The Man...Thor Heinie...this is...TEAM MAN! The boos of the crowd are cut off by the introduction to "The Prisoner" by Iron Maiden. Daniel Dafoe barely has time to step into the aisle before Crash Carver bolts into view and charges down to the ring! The hot headed young rookie leaps onto the apron and points at Team Man...who flex their manly muscles to him in response! FRANK WARBURTON: From Jackson, Mississippi, weighing one-hundred and seventy-seven pounds, this is CRASH CARVER! Carver is literally bouncing up and down on the apron in anticipation, as the fans look toward the entrance, eager to find out who Carver Carver's mystery partner is. "Rebirth" by Boy Hits Car starts to play. The curtain slowly parts, and a man steps into the aisle. He looks to be about 5 feet 11 inches tall, and weighs around 250 pounds. He has long dark hair, with a red streak in front. He is wearing black tights, and he has a serious look on his face... JACK JONES: Hey...that's PATRICK KIDD! That's Patrick Kidd, from Outlaw Pro Wrestling down in South Carolina! BILL HEWSON: He's a long way from home! Fans, for those of you who don't recognize this man, this is none other than OPW Hall of Famer Patrick Kidd, formerly known as Crimson Kidd! This man has had a long storied, career! He's wrestled in SHOOT Project, True Talent Wrestling, DIWF...and he currently wrestles in Outlaw Pro! JACK JONES: As you said...this man is in the OPW Hall of Fame, he's had quite a career! He's been in his share of wars, that's for sure. This man is no rookie, and from the sounds of these fans, they recognize him! Indeed, as Patrick Kidd makes his way to the ring, many of the fans seem to recognize him...at least the more "smarky" types: the tape collectors, and those who watch wrestling from all over the world. A fair "Kidd...Kidd...Kidd" chant breaks out, and it seems that about one third of the fans at least know who this man is. Kidd slaps high fives with many of the fans, and then climbs up and stands on the apron next to Crash Carver. Carver and Kidd exchange a high five of their own. The bell rings to start the match, and Kidd wants to start things off for his team, but Crash Carver convinces him to stay on the apron. Crash squares off with Dan The Man as Thor heads to the apron for his team. Crash and Thor lock up. The two men start to engage in a test of strength, but suddenly Dan reaches over and squeezes Crash's butt! Crash flips out! JACK JONES: Dan testing to see if the buns are fresh there. BILL HEWSON: Boy look at Crash he was not impressed with that. Crash goes berserk and starts to wail away on Dan The Man, hammering him with repeated rights and lefts to the head. Crash with a forearm to Dan The Man's head. Right headlock from Dan The Man Crash shoots him off into the ropes but Dan shoulderblocks Crash Carver down on the rebound. Crash is back up, Dan The Man whips Carver into the corner Carver goes up and over into the turnbuckles in a huge bump! Dan The Man goes behind, Carver muscles out with elbows and goes behind, but Dan The Man twists and send Carver out of the ring! JACK JONES: Outside the ring now, this could be trouble. BILL HEWSON: For who? Patrick Kidd has had enough! Kidd comes in and grabs Dan The Man by the arm, his attempted whip is reversed, and Dan The Man elevates him over the top rope and onto his partner. Dan the Man makes the tag to Heinie, Heinie whips his own partner and elevates him over the top rope onto the Carver! Heinie then hits a slingshot crossbody to the outside. That's 275 pounds of MAN flying over the top rope, folks. Back in the ring with Heinie and Patrick Kidd facing off, even though there didn't appear to be a legal tag. Whip into the corner and back body drop by Heinie and a tag to Dan The Man. Right hand by Dan, a whip is reversed, Kidd clothesline attempt is ducked, ducked again, Crash Carver grabs Dan The Man's ankles from the outside and takes him down! Crash Carver drags him out, slams him into the guardrail, and tosses him back in. Patrick Kidd with a stomp, stomp, Crash in with a stomp of his own, Kidd with a snapmare, Crash off the ropes with a kick to the back of Dan The Man's head, Patrick Kidd off the opposite ropes with a kick to Dan The Man's forehead... Crash with a legdrop gets one, two, and a kickout. Crash with a left hand, Dan The Man's face to the turnbuckle, side headlock but Dan The Man falls out of it, tag to Patrick Kidd. BILL HEWSON: Team Man seem to be working better as a team here, but Kidd and Carver and bringing the aggression this week. JACK JONES: I'd be aggressive too, if I got Manwiched...twice. Carver holds Dan open for the kick to the ribs. Kidd takes over with a whip, Dan The Man ducks the clothesline and hits a crossbody; that gets one... two only on Kidd. Kidd clobbers Dan with a brutal lariat; into a cover but gets two. Tag to Crash Carver with Kidd holding Dan The Man open for a punch. Crash lands the shot and hits a kneelift to Dan The Man's head, punch to the head, stomp and another stomp. Irish Whip reversed but Dan The Man holds on and hits a huge back bodydrop flinging Crash Carver high into the air...but Carver lands on his feet! Dan The Man turns are runs, trying to tag Heinie but NO! Crash Carver has Dan in a rear waistlock and heÕs not letting go! Heinie comes in illegally and cheap shots Crash! Kidd tries to come in to make the save, but the ref cuts him off! While Kidd argues with the ref, Thor Heinie and Dan The Man hoist Crash high into the air and DOWN with a double suplex! Team Man pulls Crash to his feet and set him up, the bounce off the ropes from opposite sides and...MANWICH! JACK JONES: Oh no! Crash Carver just got the Manwich AGAIN! Three, three, THREE times the man! BILL HEWSON: That's going to be all she wrote for this one! Thor Heinie going for the cover on Crash! The ref drops down for the count on Crash Carver! One! Patrick Kidd climbs to the top rope! Two! Patrick Kidd drops down from the top rope and lands across the back of Thor Heinie with a double axehandle smash, breaking up the pin attempt! Dan The Man comes rushing back in, but he gets an Arn Anderson style SPINEBUSTER from Patrick Kidd! Patrick Kidd picks up Thor Heinie, hoists him into the air for a suplex, but then instead he drops him across the top rope instead! The fans are cheering as Patrick Kidd has made saved Crash Carver from The Manwich! This is why Daniel Dafoe asked him to come to NAPW! Patrick Kidd picks up Dan The Man and hurls him over the top rope, where he lands on top of Lance! As Patrick Kidd pulls the stunned Thor Heinie into a prone position, Crash Carver scrambles to the top rope...poses...and then leaps off with a 450 SPLASH! Crash jumps to his feet, high fives Kidd for the official tag, and Kidd pulls the semiconscious Thor Heinie to his feet, locks him up and in front face lock with underhooks, and then spikes him into the mat headfirst, with a double arm DDT! Patrick KiddÕs patented Crimson Tide! Kidd makes the cover...ONE! TWO! THREE! "Rebirth" by Boy Hits Car starts to play as Patrick Kidd stands up, and nods in satisfaction! Crash Carver leaps into the air and hugs Patrick Kidd as Frank Warburton makes it official FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and Gentlemen, here are your winners...CRASH CARVER AND PATRICK KIDD! Daniel Dafoe stands between Carver and Kidd and holds their arms high in the air in victory. JACK JONES: Crash Carver has finally gained a measure of revenge against Team Man, thanks to his partner, the newcomer to NAPW, OPW Hall of Famer Patrick Kidd! BILL HEWSON: Team Man showed some solid teamwork, and even hit Crash with the Manwich again, but Patrick Kidd was the difference maker! He hit Dan with a spinebuster, Thor with a stun gun, he neutralized Lance, and then set up Crash for the 450, and followed with The Crimson Tide for the win! You have to wonder if this showing by Kidd and Crash will affect the Tag Team rankings! Time will tell, folks. JACK JONES: It really wasn't a fair match, Hewson. Team Man couldn't even prepare for Crash's partner, how fair is that? BILL HEWSON: They didn't need to accept the mystery partner stipulation either. Your winners, Crash Carver and Patrick Kidd. Now let's go back to Josh Reynolds in the back of the Polish Hall! Backstage, the camera seems to catch Josh Reynolds unawares. Reynolds is busy slicking his hair back and making pouty lips into the mirror. JOSH REYNOLDS: I'm... too sexy for my mic... too sexy for my... VOICE (off): Now that is the perfect way to lose viewers. Josh turns to find none other than the cockiest, gum-chewing reptile of them all. Yes, Perfection is cold-blooded. JOSH REYNOLDS: Since I have you here, Evan, any predictions for your upcoming match with Carter Owens? EVAN CARTWRIGHT: Predictions... for the fight? Josh gives a rather dumb nod. EVAN CARTWRIGHT: Pain. Josh obviously does not get the Rocky III reference. Evan slaps a hand onto his face and slowly pulls downward in frustration. JOSH REYNOLDS: Are you worried about Mr. K at ringside? EVAN CARTWRIGHT: Who? Oh, that's his corner man, right? If he dares stick his nose in my business, he'll be confined to a wheelchair and be referred to as Special K. JOSH REYNOLDS: Any last words for Carter Owens? EVAN CARTWRIGHT: Perfection is the key. Evan spits his gum high overhead and swats it away like a ping pong ball. Josh fails to realize that the gum has firmly entrenched itself in his fugly hair. Evan departs and Josh takes a black comb out of his pocket. JOSH REYNOLDS: I'm... too sexy for my comb... Cut back to ringside. JACK JONES: That boy ain't right, Hewson. BILL HEWSON: Josh Reynolds apparently spent last night hanging around the Sexy Adorable Drunks... Evan Cartwright & Carter Owens have had their share of encounters over the past couple weeks. It all started when Evan Cartwright interfered in the D!/Carter Owens match. But Owens... Owens wouldn't take the victory that way. He booted Evan out of the ring and then went on to defeat D! cleanly. JACK JONES: Clean as a whistle. Not. BILL HEWSON: ... but Evan Cartwright took exception to that. He got into the head of Owens, so much so that Owens was eliminated in the first round of the Pure Honor tournament. Tonight, it's Perfection vs Honor. Pure Honor rules are NOT in effect, but this contest is damn sure going to be a battle between two of the finest technical wrestlers in NAPW today. Let's go to the ring. Frank Warburton is in the ring, dapper as ever. He holds the mic to his lips and begins in that booming voice of his. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL. Introducing first... Carter Owens comes down to the ring to the slow contemplative rock of Skillet, slapping the hands of his fans. One of the crowd has an "11:52" sign that Carter points at. He enters the ring, and stares at the Polish Hall entrance. FRANK WARBURTON: Introducing first! From Toronto, Ontario, weighing in at two hundred and sixty-five pounds! CAAARTEEERRRR OOOOOOWENNNSSS! The crowd boos as Evan comes out to the soul stylings of Sam and Dave, wearing a towel around his neck and smirking at the crowd. He points at Carter Owens, and dismisses him with a wave of his hand. Kryenik is wearing a halo and neckbrace, but is there to support his tag team partner. FRANK WARBURTON: And his opponent! From Cairo, Illinois, he weighs in at two hundred and twenty-two pounds! He is accompanied to the ring by Sick Billy Kryenik! He is Perfection! This is EVAAAANN! CAAARTWRIIIIGHT!! Evan enters the ring, and grins toothily at a stock still Owens. Owens extends his hand for Cartwright to shake. BILL HEWSON: Even though this is not a Pure Honor match, Carter Owens wants to keep on using the mindset of a Pure Honor competitor. JACK JONES: That's all fine and well, but Evan, while one of the most technically gifted wrestlers in North America, could care less about the rules of Pure Honor. Evan looks at the crowd, who's shouting at him to shake Carter's hand. He looks at the outstretched hand, turns his head to the left and spits out his gum. But he swats it right at the face of Carter Owens! Owens just got hit by Cartwright's wad of gum, but he's not budging, instead choosing to ignore the slight and still offer his hand. Evan Cartwright gives Owens a "you've got to be kidding me" look, and puts out his hand, only to use it to sweep back his hair. Owens still is adamant that Evan shake his hand to begin this match. Evan smirks at the crowd once again, offers his hand to Owens. Owens grabs Cartwright's hand, Cartwright pulls him in for a short-arm clothesline, which Carter ducks. John Sharplin calls for the bell to start this match. Carter Owens hits the ropes, and bounces back, only to be thrown by Evan's Japanese armdrag. Cartwright shows the crowd how awesome he is by picking up his towel and throwing it into the front row. Cartwright saunters over to Owens laying on the mat, and slaps him in the face. "C'mon! You're going to show me how to wrestle? I'm Perfection incarnate!" BILL HEWSON: Evan Cartwright showing serious disrespect to Carter Owens there... he should really focus on out-wrestling the man, not trash talk. JACK JONES: It's called the mental edge, Hewson. Evan Cartwright has proven he can make Owens second-guess himself. That's what winners do - they CREATE opportunities instead of simply waiting for them. Cartwright picks up Carter Owens, and another Japanese armdrag flips Owens to the mat. Cartwright is still holding onto Carter's arm, and tries to hyperextend it by pulling the arm back against his knee. Carter Owens cries out as John Sharplin asks him if he wants to submit. Carter shakes his head and suffers through the pain. Cartwright pulls back for all he's worth, Billy Kryenik reaches through the rope and grabs onto Cartwright, and adds some leverage. Sharplin sees it and demands that Cartwright break the hold. Four count and Evan FINALLY decides to let go of the arm. Carter rolls on the ground, cradling his arm. The crowd boos Evan and he smiles back at them. "This is a Pure Honor guy? More like a Pure Loser!" Evan goes over to Owens and gives him a few shots to the back of the head. "Schooltime, Carter! I'm about to give you a tutorial in pain!" Owens is in bad shape here, but the crowd is certainly not behind Evan Cartwright. A chant starts up. "Let's go, Owens! Let's go, Owens!" Cartwright grabs Carter by the arm, pulling him up and whipping him to the ropes. Carter Owens reverses the whip! Cartwright comes at Carter, Carter lowers his head, Evan flips over the back of Carter, but that's just what Owens had in mind! Samoan drop by the bigger man! BILL HEWSON: Evan Cartwright outwitted by Carter Owens there! JACK JONES: Now THAT'S what Carter Owens should be doing! Look at how big he is compared to Cartwright! He shouldn't be going for all this Pure Honor crap! He should be busting heads! BILL HEWSON: I won't disagree that Carter's a big guy, but he should do what he wants to do! It's interesting for a guy his size to focus on a technical wrestling mindset! Evan gets up, but Carter's right behind him, grabbing Cartwright from behind for a pendulum backbreaker! Cartwright groans in pain as he goes for the ropes. Billy Kryenik's calling him over, trying to get his friend out of the way of Carter Owens. But Carter with a baseball slide to the back of Cartwright sends Evan into Billy on the outside. The crowd cheers as Carter exits the ring to throw Evan back in. Kryenik with a clubbing blow to the back of Owens. Owens turns around to confront Kryenik, who's pointing at his neckbrace, yelling "You can't touch me! I'm injured!" Sharplin notices this and is shouting for Carter Owens to get back into the ring. Cartwright takes advantage by using his own baseball slide, kicking the back of Carter's head. Carter is stunned, and Evan and Billy push him back into the ring. Evan locks up with a dazed Owens. Fisherman's Suplex! Sharplin counts the pin! One! Two! Owens kicks out, and Billy and Evan groan in disappointment. BILL HEWSON: A near-fall there by Evan Cartwright, but Owens still has gas in the tank! JACK JONES: But how much? Carter to his feet, and grapples with Evan. Carter with the advantage, and flips Evan into a powerbomb position! Evan hit the mat with force, but Owens keeps his grip! In a stunning display of strength, Carter Owens has picked Cartwright back up into another powerbomb! A double powerbomb by Carter Owens, and Owens jumps on Evan for the pin! One! Two! The crowd groans as Evan kicks out. Owens picks up a groggy Cartwright, and puts Evan into a front facelock. He lifts Cartwright up and catches his legs with the other arm. Cartwright is SLAMMED into the mat by Owens! BILL HEWSON: A beautiful Fisherman Buster there by Owens. He's definitely got the momentum now on Evan Cartwright. JACK JONES: You can't defeat Perfection, Hewson! Evan Cartwright always triumphs! BILL HEWSON: He lost the tag team belts to the Delivery Men! Stein won Cartwright's Provincial title! You can't tell me that he wins all the time! JACK JONES: Those are just momentary setbacks! Carter Owens goes for the pin! One! Two! Billy Kryenik puts Cartwright's foot on the ropes. Three-NO! John Sharplin sees the foot on the ropes! It's not a three count! Carter is visibly frustrated now, but he seems to be keeping it in check. Nothing's going to stop him from wrestling this match his way. Cartwright's halfway up, and Owens goes over to him. A Perfect Uppercut! Evan was playing possum! Sambo suplex takes Owens to the mat! Evan rolls up Owens! One! Two! Th-KICK OUT! Owens will NOT be pinned! Evan's dumbfounded, but is intent on keeping the upperhand. Roaring Elbow to Owens! Owens is shaken! Evan hits the ropes to deliver a stronger elbow! Owens is almost off his feet! One more roaring elbow by Cartwright, but Owens manages to grab the arm of Cartwright and reverse into a Cross Armbreaker. Evan's arms are being pulled out of their sockets by Carter Owens! The ref is asking Cartwright if he submits, and Cartwright's shaking his head no. Carter with more pressure! Cartwright's screaming in pain, and Kryenik's pleading with his friend to not give in! Cartwright's shaking his hear no, but he's fading! Carter is wearing Evan Cartwright down, but once again, Billy Kryenik pulls Cartwright towards the ropes. This time Sharplin sees Kryenik's cheating ways, and goes over to lecture Sick Billy. Carter Owens releases his hold and goes over to yell at Kryenik. Evan Cartwright is crawling over to the action, and brings up the arm into the groin of Carter Owens! LOW BLOW! The crowd boos, but Evan could care less. With a sick smile, he rolls Owens into a bridge pin, and Kryenik alerts Sharplin to the pin attempt. Sharplin slides over to Carter, and counts one! Two! Cartwright gets more leverage in his bridge by stepping on the bottom rope! Sharplin doesn't take notice! Three! Cartwright lets go and rolls out of the ring, and Frank Warburton takes the mike. FRANK WARBURTON: Your winner! Evaaaannn Caaartwriiight! JACK JONES: There ya go! What did I tell you? BILL HEWSON: That was blatant cheating by Evan Cartwright! Carter Owens can't be happy about that! Carter Owens is glaring daggers at the back of Evan Cartwright, who is being helped to the back by Sick Billy Kryenik. Before they leave through the curtain, Evan turns around and taps his head. Evan Cartwright is smarter than you! The Bi-Polar Express laugh as they exit, leaving a grim Owens in the middle of the ring. Cut to backstage... where none other than Stylin' Kyle Roberts and Bruce "The Beast" Richards - The New & Improved D-X - are watching the Get The Hell Off Our Lawn show on monitors. Behind them, a voice calls out. VOICE: Kyle! Bruce! Good to see you here! R. Joseph Winchell (the Third!) appears as Kyle and Bruce turn around. KYLE ROBERTS: Well, if it isn't good ol' Joseph Winchell! How are things? Bit of trouble last night, eh? I don't ever remember a riot at an NAPW supershow. JOSEPH WINCHELL: That's all the fault of Rex Caliber... but with the help of Longshot and the Charitable Trust's crack legal team, well, everything's coming up Joseph! What can I say? Success agrees with me! And I want to make sure to share the love! You guys have seen that I booked you two against the Delivery Men for the July 25th show of Tuesday Night Fights, yes? KYLE ROBERTS: Another chance to win those tag team belts? We're flattered, Joey. JOSEPH WINCHELL: (chuckles nervously) Now, Kyle. You know how much I despise my slave name, right? BRUCE RICHARDS: Well, Joseph, or should we call you Mr. Winchell now like others are doing? JOSEPH WINCHELL: (outstretches his arms) Hey, Bruce, we're all friends here. You know you don't have to be formal with me. BRUCE RICHARDS: Fine. Joseph, then. Joseph, we appreciate your confidence in us, and we'll make sure to finally take back those tag titles for a fourth time. However, we're a little... How shall I put it? Concerned. That you are now in cahoots with some people that didn't exactly treat us too well. Evan Cartwright, the S.A.D.s. How do we know that you won't give them a shot against us? JOSEPH WINCHELL: Everything's fair on my watch, boys. I'm not the kind of guy who'll put someone under my thumb like my dad was. Everyone gets a break in my NAPW. Look at Dextro! Did you think last week that he'd step up his game and get a title shot against Patrick Bickle? No! But Joseph Winchell could see the potential there! KYLE ROBERTS: Everyone gets a fair shake, eh? JOSEPH WINCHELL: Hey, D-X will get a better-than-fair deal on MY NAPW! How about this? Let's say...no DQ for your match against the Delivery Men? KYLE ROBERTS: That sounds nice, but then Stein might get involved. JOSEPH WINCHELL: Okay, then. No Delivery Men will be allowed to be at ringside or in the crowd! After the last time, when they stampeded? They don't make for a very fair match! BRUCE RICHARDS: It's sounding better. JOSEPH WINCHELL: You get a three count! The Delivery Men have to pin you for five! KYLE ROBERTS: Wow, that's quite generous. What do we have to do to deserve that? A bit of the tickle and grab? Because I'm not gay. JOSEPH WINCHELL: Hey, neither am I. All I'm asking for is a little help on my end, from some old friends. Join my team. BRUCE RICHARDS: Your team? The one that's mainly focused on screwing Rex Caliber at every turn? JOSEPH WINCHELL: Rex Caliber is only getting what he deserves... KYLE ROBERTS: So we'd be joining the New and Improved Anti-Revolution? A group of backstabbers and cutthroats, at least some of whom are high on PCP and Dextro's urine? Hey, sounds like my kind of people. BRUCE RICHARDS: I suppose we'd be answering to you. JOSEPH WINCHELL: You scratch my back... KYLE ROBERTS: One problem with that, Joey. JOSEPH WINCHELL: Please, Kyle. I thought I told you to refer to me as Joseph. KYLE ROBERTS: Oh, chumpy, of course I heard you. But I'm not sure if you've noticed, but every time we've been involved with a superteam of opportunistic guys who'd do whatever it takes, we've be on equal billing. It was a joint effort. BRUCE RICHARDS: We weren't subservient to anyone. And now you're asking us to take orders from you? Orders that will no doubt cause us to attack the father of a child who idolizes me? The closest thing to an ally that D-X has in this entire federation? JOSEPH WINCHELL: I'm an ally of yours, too. Remember the Seattle road trip? I just want you to get back the level you belong at, along with some others who deserve to be there. KYLE ROBERTS: You're telling me that crybaby of an ex-champ, the man who's tried to destroy the NAPW by bringing in his own federation, is a more worthy man than the second-most awesome bald man in the fed? BRUCE RICHARDS: (sidetracked) I suppose you're the MOST awesome bald man? KYLE ROBERTS: Got it in one, my friend. JOSEPH WINCHELL: I don't think you two realize what saying no to me really means. BRUCE RICHARDS: Look, Joey. We've got a match against the Delivery Men for those tag team belts next week. Something tells me that we'll destroy them and regain those titles. But it will be on OUR terms. Not yours. Got it? KYLE ROBERTS: That's right! We don't need Joey-Jo-Jo Winchell to help us cheat! We crushed all our competition by using our own minds! Not someone else's! BRUCE RICHARDS: I guess what we're trying to say, Joseph, is thanks but no thanks. We'll do this on our own. No, if you'll excuse us, there's a Pure Honour match that we want to watch. KYLE ROBERTS: (grumbling) Razzin' frazzin' Pure Honour, booting me out because I wouldn't shake hands. BRUCE RICHARDS: (as they leave) Oh, Kyle, it was a bit more than that. Bruce and Kyle exit, as Joseph glares at their backs. Back to ringside, Hewson & Jones in the picture. Jones is aghast, Hewson meanwhile is trying to hide a big grin. JACK JONES: Doesn't D-X realize they're talking to the OWNER of the NAPW? And their biggest fan from way back? How could they... they couldn't... Kyle! Bruce! What are you doing? BILL HEWSON: Awww, Poor Joey... it's so tragic that I can't... help... but... Hahahaha! JACK JONES: That's not funny! BILL HEWSON: Oh, believe me, it IS. JACK JONES: Well, nothing funny about what's about to happen next. BILL HEWSON: The Kiniski Cup is on the line, folks. Two of the most unorthodox competitors you'll ever meet, about to face in a Pure Honor match. JACK JONES: Yeah, you have a hardcore icon going against a meth addict. BILL HEWSON: He's kicked that demon Jones. And now he goes into the ring to continue his road to recovery. For Dextro, HONOR is the path to redemption. JACK JONES: It'll take more than a title to purify that soul... "My Addiction" by Rehab hits the speakers. Dextro makes his way to the ring. The fans give him a lot of respect. Either he's not used to it, or he's too focused on the task ahead, because he heads straight for the ring, and paces in the corner. FRANK WARBURTON: Ladies and gentlemen! This match is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the Pure Honor title. In the ring to my left, the challenger. From Moolieville, Minnesota. Weighing in at two-hundred and thirty-five pounds. This is Dextro! Number Song. DJ Shadow. And the champ makes his way to the ring. To a mixed, but mostly negative reaction. FRANK WARBURTON: His opponent. From New York, New York. Weighing in at one hundred and seventy-five pounds! He is accompanied by Mr. Maps, and is the Pure Honor Champion... Paaaaaaatrick Bicklllllle! Both men go to center ring and shake hands. Neither man will let go, as they stare eye to eye. Referee Dick Kiebiech is in there to explain the rules, and make sure a fight doesn't break out. BILL HEWSON: Such intensity here. JACK JONES: But they have to be careful. If they get mad, they may start throwing punches. Pretty soon they're either out of rope breaks or Disqualified. BILL HEWSON: A tremendous amount of self-control is needed in these type of matches. Focus. Discipline. JACK JONES: And strategy. You gotta get your cheap shots in before the ref knows what's happening. Dextro and Bickle lock up. Dextro uses his weight advantage to push Bickle down. He goes for a headlock, then tries to scissor his legs around Bickle's waist going for a quick submission. Bickle arches up, and pulls Dextro onto his back. Shoulders are down, Kiebiech counts ONE... and Dextro easily kicks out. BILL HEWSON: Smart move by Bickle. He breaks the hold and gets a pin at the same time. It's smart wrestling that'll win this match, not sheer brutality. JACK JONES: Um, you have seen Bickle's previous matches, right? Wait a minute... Bickle and Dextro are criss crossing on the ropes. Bickle runs into Dextro, but can't budge the bigger man. But the focus has shifted to a neckbrace wearing North T. Gunderson. He sets up his steel chair and sits down to watch the action. Meanwhile Dextro is going for another headlock. Bickle slides out of the hold, then jumps on Dextro's back and applies a sleeper hold. Dextro tries to flip Bickle over, but Bickle has wisely wrapped his leg around Dextro's waist. Dextro has no choice but to use his first rope break. FRANK WARBURTON: Dextro has used his first rope break! Bickle gets a head scissors on Dextro, and brings him to the mat. He squeezes down on Dextro's head, and Kiebiech looks to see if there'll be a submission. JOSH REYNOLDS: (sprinting to ringside) North, what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be at home resting up? The fans clap, trying to cheer Dextro on. Dextro twists around, then pulls his head out from the hold. He keeps a grip on Bickle's legs, and twists him into a single leg Boston Crab. Bickle immediately grabs the ropes. NORTH T. GUNDERSON: Huh, Bickle was pretty quick to use his first rope break... To answer your question Josh, I can rest my neck just fine at ringside. Kyle Roberts may have hurt my neck, but he didn't break my spirit. And he sure as heck didn't take me out of the Pure Honor division. I expect to be facing either one of these men in the near future. What great wrestling from both men! Bickle is surprising everyone with his heart, while Dextro is rising from the gutters to make a name for himself. What an inspiration! Bickle kicks Dextro in the knee (barely legal) then does a single leg takedown. Dextro grabs Bickle's head and tries to get a small package, but Bickle rolls through, gets back to his feet, then drops an elbow across the inside of Dextro's leg. He wrenches back on the injured limb. NORTH T. GUNDERSON: But I don't want to get ahead of myself. Right now, I'm the number three contender. The man who doesn't win this match will be the Number two contender. I am here to challenge that man to a match. But if you don't mind Josh, we're taking away from these two fine competitors. Back to the ring (finally). Bickle is still working Dextro's leg. Dextro is trying valiantly to turn over, break the hold, anything, but he has no other option. He reaches for the ropes. FRANK WARBURTON: Dextro has used his second rope break! Bickle breaks the hold. Smirks, then sizes up his opponent for a spear. Dextro slowly gets to his feet, the fans are frantically trying to signal Dextro not to turn around. But Bickle is impatient. He goes for the spear as soon as Dextro stands up! The fans shudde as Dextro is driven chest first into the turnbuckles. Bickle keeps up the assault, applying a Carlito style back cracker. Dextro is down, out of breath, and in pain. But still aware enough to roll out of the ring. Mr. Maps is furious, yelling that Bickle should have been quicker with a pin attempt. North is clapping madly along with the fans. Bickle is in his own little world. BILL HEWSON: Bickle should have gone for the pin there. JACK JONES: Hey, a count out win is still a win... oh Patrick NO!! Bickle apparently doesn't want a count out win. He climbs to the top rope, where he can measure up Dextro, who is using the ring barrier to pull himself up. Bickle goes to drop an elbow! And there's nobody home! Bickle crashes into the metal guard rail! Referee Kiebich starts the count. Dextro is eyeing a steel chair. He could end this so easily... But then he would never get another chance at the Kiniski Cup. Fighting temptation, he instead rolls Bickle back into the ring. Both men are hurting badly at this point, though Bickle is still the better for wear... At least he was until Dextro nailed the fisherman's suplex! Goes for the cover... One... Two... Kickout! Dextro slaps the mat in frustration. He grabs Bickle and slaps on a cross face chicken wing, but Bickle grabs the ropes before the hold can do any damage. FRANK WARBURTON: Patrick Bickle has used his second rope break! Mr. Maps is angrily telling Bickle to be careful about using up his rope breaks. Bickle pays little attention. Actually he doesn't have time. Dextro is going for a moonsault on the prone man, and Bickle has to get his knees up to counter. As Dextro rolls around in pain, Bickle drops an elbow across Dextro's neck. Then another. Then another. And one more. Dextro is hurting. And Bickle is going for a dragon sleeper. He cinches it in, trying to squeeze the last breath out of his opponent. Dextro is close to the ropes. He starts to reach out for them. He is so close. One extra inch and he'll be freeÉ but then he'll be without any rope breaks. And at a severe disadvantage. So instead he tries to push himself onto his feet. He's at an awkward angle, but he's not prone on the mat now. Dextro manages to shift some of Bickle's weight off... Bickle tries to bear down, and get Dextro back to his feet. But Dextro has fought bigger monsters. With a last burst of energy, he manages to kick his feet out, hit the ropes, and use the momentum to push both men back! Dextro lands on top of Bickle! Kiebiech is there to count the pin! One... Two... Bickle kicks out! BILL HEWSON: Great presence of mind from Dextro! He knew he had only one rope break left! JACK JONES: Yeah, he saved the rope break. But will it cost him the match? Bickle is quickly to his feet, and nails a swinging neckbreaker! Dextro crumples to the mat! Cover! One... Two... FOOT ON THE ROPE! FRANK WARBURTON: Dextro has used his final rope break! BILL HEWSON: Good thing he didn't waste it earlier, huh? JACK JONES: Nobody likes a gloater, Bill. Bickle is mad. He pulls Dextro to his feet. And punches his man in the face. Kiebich with a warning. Bickle nods. He realizes his mistake... No. He punches Dextro harder this time. Dextro crashes to the mat, his nose is spewing blood. Bickle shakes out his sore hand. Kiebiech does the only thing he can do. FRANK WARBURTON: For using the closed fist, Patrick Bickle has been penalized his last rope break! Mr. Maps is shouting stuff not fit for family airing. Bickle doesn't seem to care. His opponent is hurt, and it's only a matter of time. Bickle goes to the top rope, and nails Dextro with a drop kick. Cover! One... Two... Thr- NO! Barely kicked out! Bickle seems surprised, but unconcerned. He goes to the top rope again. Frog Splash! ... But Dextro had the knees up! Bickle is hurt. And Dextro has an advantage. If only he can get to his feet! BILL HEWSON: Dextro needs to get to his feet! He has beaten his own demons, now he needs to beat the demon who has terrorized the Pure Honor division! Dextro and Bickle both get to their feet. Bickle lunges for a spear. Dextro dodges. Bickle slams into the turnbuckle, and turns around to receive the DEXPLEX! Bickle is sent over the top rope to the floor! Dextro hits the ropes... SUICIDE PLANCHA! BOTH MEN ARE DOWN! The fans are on their feet! North is applauding so hard I swear his hands are bleeding! And Dextro is on his feet. He rolls Bickle into the ring. And goes to the top rope. He needs to end this. And what better way than with a SHOOTING STAR PRESS! Bickle is flattened! The pin is academic here! One! Two! TH--- BICKLE GETS HIS SHOULDER UP! HE WILL NOT QUIT! JACK JONES: You preach on about Dextro, but Bickle has been lambasted since the moment he entered the Pure Honor division. But can you name a wrestler on the roster who has shown more heart and determination when it comes to defending a title? BILL HEWSON: I swear, that man is not human! HOW did he kick out? Dextro is wide eyed with disbelief. He scoops up Bickle for a shoulder breaker. Bickle floats over and tries for a waist lock. He runs Dextro into the ropes, looking for a roll up pin, but Dextro uses his momentum to roll over. He gets to his feet, and scoops up a surprised Bickle! Shoulder breaker! And ... he turns Bickle around! He's going for his new submission maneuver! He's got Bickle's neck and shoulders stretched on his knee, and he's using his arms to pull on the man's legs! JACK JONES: Do you want to take a shot at describing this move? BILL HEWSON: Dextro has Bickle's legs hooked over his head... Bickle's neck is on Dextro's knees. Good God, man was not meant to bend this way! Indeed. Bickle is flailing with his one free arm. The fans are chanting TAP! But Bickle. He's smart. Great ring presence. He reaches for the ropes. Too bad he blew that last rope break. Kiebiech has no choice but to let the hold stay on. Mr. Maps is screaming at Bickle to give it up. Bickle can't tap out. But he won't say I quit either. After an excruciating amount of time, it appears Bickle has blacked out. Kiebiech raises the arm. Once. Twice. Three times the arm drops. The bell rings. And the reign of Patrick Bickle is at an inexplicable end. FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner... and NEEEEEW PURE HONOR CHAMPION... DEXTRRROOOOO! BILL HEWSON: Despite everything life has thrown at him, Dextro is the new Pure Honor champion! What an unbelievable story this is tonight! JACK JONES: There goes the division! Kiebiech hands Dextro the Kiniski Cup, which Dextro proudly holds over his head. Mr. Maps is trying to revive Bickle. North T. Gunderson joins the fans for a standing ovation. But new tests await all three men in the weeks ahead. BILL HEWSON: I will give all the credit in the world to Patrick Bickle, he dominated the division, he held the Kiniski Cup for an unbelievable period of time. But tonight, Dextro is the better man. Tonight, Dextro is on top of the world, he has beaten his demons, he IS the Pure Honor Champion! Dextro, carefully holding the Kiniski Cup (still wrapped in barbed wire courtesy of Bickle), is celebrating in the ring. He's unsure how to deal with the adulation of the fans, but nonetheless he is, like he said, ON FIRE. The scene switches from Dextro's victory to a video package highlighting the D!/Dev and D!/Static feuds. D! challenges Devastation. Declined. "You will never know a moment's peace." Dez Carter beats Dev thanks to D!. D! gets beat down by Dev & Lloyd Rees. Dev accepts. D! uses the number one contender slot to challenge Static. Dev no-shows. The gang beatdown. Winchell's reveal. Dev challenges D! to the match on July 18. Dev or Static... D! chooses both. Static beats down D!, sits a chair over his throat, and attempts to humilate him. D! holding the TEAM belt high. Dev holding the F*NAPW belt high. And Static... a bloody Static holding the NAPW Championship belt high. Back to the desk. JACK JONES: ... so that's the reason I have a lifelong fear of midgets. Even cruiserweights scare me, they remind me of the little buggers too much. BILL HEWSON: So you're frightened by a cruiserweight like, say, D!? JACK JONES: Nah, he's not that short, just annoying. "Fire Water Burn" by Bloodhound Gang hits the PA and the crowd is up in arms. Thankfully, Harvey Garcia-Buffer is not present, but we can see a fossil in zebra stripes gingerly slide into the ring. Aloysius Daniel Durrington aka: Specs, is set to officiate this match, coke bottle glasses and all. FRANK WARBURTON: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Approaching the ring, from South Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at Three-Hundred and Five pounds... he is the self-proclaimed F*NAPW Champion... DEVAAAAAAAAAASTATIOOOOOOOOOOOONNNN! The Vicious Phenom saunters his way to the ring like is the be all, end all of NAPW, flanked by the limping visage of Longshot, carrying his trademark pimp cane. Devastation jumps to the apron and steps over the top rope before raising his hammy fists into the air. He lowers them and respectfully shakes hands with Specs. Longshot is clapping like a fan boy. BILL HEWSON: How can D! get a fair match with Devastation's personal crony as the referee? JACK JONES: Specs is a fair and honest man who always calls it down the middle--he is the epitome of neutrality, like Switzerland. BILL HEWSON: You forget that the Swiss secretly bankrolled the Nazis to remain neutral and safe from invasion. JACK JONES: Pffffft, like anyone remembers history. BILL HEWSON: And now we await the arrival of D!... hold on, I'm being told we're cutting backstage? Yes, we are. Backstage, the camera shows an empty hallway, hastily-stacked equipment boxes, a crafts table that's been picked clean-- D!: (Off.) NOW. The camera starts to quickly swivel around, but with an audile SMACK giant fingers appear in the frame, halting the camera completely. D!: (Off.) After a month of waiting, of begging, of vexing, of plotting, after a month of trying to do the right thing.. All that time preparing to prove to Karl Brown my superiority. All that time waiting for Devastation to get off of his duff and put his face were his mouth is so that I can punch it shut. And the FIVE. MONTHS. I had to wait before getting another shot at the NAPW Title. Not to MENTION finally giving Static something to whine about. Three major matches, three days. The Week From Hell. The camera is pulled back, roughly, framing the face of D! off-kilter and close-up. D!: And it was supposed to END for me LAST NIGHT. D! releases his grip on the camera, and he camera man rapidly adjusts on a medium shot of a VERY pissed-looking man in a toque. D!: You tell a dying man he's got to wait ONE MORE DAY for the cure. You tell a released prisoner he's got to spend ONE MORE DAY behind bars. You tell a soldier, after fighting a WAR, that he can't get home to his family for ONE MORE DAY. Because I came SO CLOSE to the single most TOUGHEST night of my LIFE last night--and it was taken AWAY from me. And this state I'm in, this CONSTANT state of READY, of FOCUS, of AGGRESSION--I've been in here for ONE. WHOLE. DAY. and I haven't let it GO for fear of losing it. No, this FIRE has been burning for far too LONG. He motions to the camera, and it starts following him down the hall. D!: I'm gonna get this down for people right now, because frankly, they're going to have to KILL ME out there to keep me down. DEVASTATION, you (BLEEP)ing UNFUNNY, LAZY, RICH, SPOILED, SIMPLE, ARROGANT ASS. From the moment you cost me the title shot at Sole Survivor to the time you acted like you could BUY ME to EVERY. SINGLE. TIME you've ever tried to run the NAPW into the ground, you and I have had issues. You won't put the F*NAPW Title up? Fine. Then it's time to beat the ever-living TAR out of the F*NAPW Champion. All you've ever DONE is make me MAD, Big-n-Jiggly, all you've ever done is make me ANGRY. Tonight, you get PAYBACK. FINALLY. STATIC, you backstabbing piece of (BLEEP). All you've ever DONE is wallow in your own pity. YOU did that--YOU! You've spent your entire glorious career half-assing it... but now, NOW, you're gonna give it your ALL. You wanna know why this so-called EMO PRETTY-BOY BITCH STILL commands more respect and attention than you EVER will? Because I won that same title you stole from a BETTER WRESTLER on my SECOND. MATCH. EVER. Because I beat TEN OTHER FEDS at the Wachovia Centre. Because I've never needed allies or hardware to do JACK. And the real kicker is, I just keep getting BETTER all the TIME... and YOU, Static, are running OUT of it. REX CALIBER. D! stops. D!: CARTER OWENS. EL MENTIROSO. THE DELIVERY MEN. CRUSHER. THE CELTIC ASSASSINS. DREAM COME TRUE. THE MOOSE! CRASH CARVER AND FRIEND. WAYNE WRIGHT. PROMO. DEZ CARTER. MARK CAGE. GUNDERSON. Hell, FREAKY-ASSED PREDATOR WATCHING THIS IN THE MORLOCK TUNNELS. ALL of you, EVERYONE within the SOUND OF MY VOICE... He leans in. Tight. Do it... YOUR way. Not THEIR way. BELIEVE. IN. NAPW. He starts immediately for the gorilla position. D!: NOW. Cut to the ENTRANCE WAY SHOT. "RIGHT...before...my... EYES!" "Right Before My Eyes" by The Snitches hits the airwaves and the people go absolutely wild for the former NAPW Champion and current TEAM CoC (heh!) known only by one letter... said real loud! FRANK WARBURTON: From Edmonton, Alberta, weighing in at Two-Hundred and Ten pounds... he is the reigning TEAM Champion of Champions... The Unorthodox Old-Schooler... he needs no introduction: DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! JACK JONES: He didn't give a snappy intro to Devastation like that. Warburton is clearly biased, unlike Specs. Where's Harvey Garcia-Buffer? BILL HEWSON: Hopefully unemployed. Even if Frank is biased, his opinion doesn't count for this hellacious match-up. JACK JONES: Whatever the case, this is Devastation's personal gift to Static... a beaten and broken D! to challenge for the NAPW Heavyweight Championship right after this match. I love it! Hah! BILL HEWSON: You sound like you should be wearing a fake crown and screaming like a school girl when attractive women walk by. Specs goes over the basics and both men stare one another down intently. The bell goes DING! and the beasts are unleashed. Dev tries to behead D! with a LARIATOOOOO, only to be ducked by the Unorthodox Old-Schooler, who hits the opposite ropes and comes back with a flying forearm smash to the face of Dev, sending the big man reeling. BILL HEWSON: Shades of Tito Santana there. JACK JONES: I think he's now working at the taco truck outside of the Polish Hall. BILL HEWSON: Oh stop that! D! hits the ropes again for momentum, but this time Devastation uses his ninety-five pound advantage to flatten D! with a shoulder block. Dev hits the opposing ropes and D! lies flat, sending Dev hurdling over his opponent and into the other ropes. D! pushes himself up and launches himself upwards with an amazing vertical leap to perfectly extend and dropkick the charging Devastation in the face. Longshot cries foul at Specs, who doesn't seem to hear much that he isn't focused on. Dev stumbles forward after getting to his feet and D! takes him down with a picture-perfect Japanese armdrag, settling into an armbar. JACK JONES: He blatantly stole that move from "Perfection" Evan Cartwright! BILL HEWSON: Who I think stole it from Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat. JACK JONES: Bah, he'd rather see a legend-in-the-making like Evan pay homage to him by utilizing it, not some toque-wearing emo man-girl. BILL HEWSON: Is it your time of the month again? D! cinches into the armbar and Dev gets to his feet. Using his superior brute strength, the Vicious Phenom pulls his arm back towards him catches D! with his free arm for a hard clothesline. Dev grabs a falling D! by his wrist and pulls him up for the Rapid Fire. Devastation covers after the vicious maneuver, but Specs is a bit slow to count. Either way, D! kicks out before two, and Dev nails him with a kick to the ribs, doubling him over. Dev and Longshot give Specs the business, but the old man has the wonderful gift of slight senility to pretty much tune them out to the sounds of Glenn Miller Big Band in his head. Dev lets it go and lifts a slowly-rising D! up and over for a gutwrench suplex. D! valiantly gets to his feet and absolutely EATS a big boot to the face that sends him crashing into the corner. Dev smashes into him with a reverse elbow, throwing in all his weight for good measure. Dev presses D! high overhead and showboats for just a bit too long, as D! slips out and lands on his feet. He ducks another quick clothesline and jumps on the big man's back, applying a sleeper hold. D! is trying to pull off an early NyQuil Driver, but Dev slams backwards into the corner--hard. BILL HEWSON: And say what you will about Devastation, but he is a big man... and he knows how to use his size. D! just got flattened in the corner, and wait just a minute, Devastation is... oh come on, he's blatantly distracting the referee! D! is flattened in the corner while Dev takes Specs aside and begins showing him phantom things like loose turnbuckles and ropes in one corner. In D!'s corner, Longshot has gingerly leapt up to the apron and chokes the man with his cane. D! struggles for air until Specs decides that the ropes are tight and nothing is wrong. Dev immediately capitalizes on a weakened D! with a Gourdbuster and a cover. Amazingly, D! kicks out at two and Dev can't believe it. He is actually getting a bit frustrated with his ref. While he argues with Specs, D! manages to pull himself to his feet. Dev immediately charges, but made the wrong decision; D! pulls down on the ropes and the big man sails up and over like Air Gorilla. D! gets a moment to catch his breath and Specs seems to be adjusting his hearing aid while making the 10 count. He doesn't notice Longshot clearly helping Devastation up, only to... oh, no: D! comes sailing off the ropes like a missile, crashing into both his opponent and his manager. Dev seems to have taken the brunt of the fall and D! seems to be good, roaring triumphantly to his fanatic followers. JACK JONES: What the hell is Specs doing? Stop cleaning those coke bottles! D! grabs the big man's head and slams it into the steel steps with authority before rolling him back inside for the pin. Specs is still cleaning his glasses, but hears D! slap the mat. Only two as Dev shoots a shoulder up. D! measures his man as he rises and absolutely wallops him with a roundhouse punch that sends the F*NAPW Champion into the corner. D! races to the opposite corner and lets fly with the Stinger Splash. However, Longshot manages to pull Dev down by his leg and D! slams chest-first into the corner turnbuckles. Dev capitalizes with a kick to the gut followed by a Double Underhook Powerbomb. The move hits D! hard, and he arches his back following a spasm of utter pain. Dev takes note of this and steps on the prone back of the Champion of Champions, putting all of his weight onto the small. JACK JONES: Shades of Andre the Giant there... I love it! BILL HEWSON: Yeah, and you love booze and gambling too, lets move on. JACK JONES: Andre once drank 119 beers in one sitting! D! is already favoring his lower back as Dev raises both fists and rains a series of double axe-handle blows to the back, followed by the point of his elbow. Dev senses the end to be near and pulls his man to the center of the ring for the coups-de-gras. The Burning Hammer is telegraphed, and D! manages to slip out and rolls his man up in a schoolboy. Only two as Dev powers out and D! floors him with the Rockettes Kick of Doom. The crowd sings along, and then D! finishes it up by DDTing the big man to the canvas! D! covers again, but Dev gets a foot on the ropes. Before Dev can react, D! is building momentum and lets the fury become unglued... the Beat-O-Barrage. Dev tries his best to block it, but it's too much, and too fast. Longshot whistles loudly and makes a "come out" gesture to the back and soon after "The Lemondrop Kid' Lloyd Rees races to the ring. BILL HEWSON: What is that Newfie snake doing out here? JACK JONES: Moral support, what else? BILL HEWSON: I highly doubt that. Lonsghot does his best to distract Specs while Rees slides into the ring and catches D! by surprise. DDT From The Green! Rees just planted D! and exits as fast as he came. Dev is still woozy from the Barrage, but manages to fall into a cover. Luckily for D!, Specs cleaned his glasses, because he notices when D! lays a foot on the ropes. Dev thinks he won and raises his arms in the air. This gives D! a chance to stand while Shot jumps to the apron. Bad move, as Specs is right there to warn him. Brilliant plan? Because Rees slides in from the opposing corner. D! ducks the Newfie's clothesline and it manages to nail Devastation. Rees grabs tufts of his own hair and mumbles some unintelligible Newfese when D! nails him in the mush with a Kick of Doom that sends him out of the ring. Devstation with a hammer to the back and going for another Burning Hammer. D! pokes him in the eye, away from Spec's near-sighted view, and escapes the move, only to latch on with a sleeper and... there it is... NyQuil Driver! D! into the cover for ONE! TWO! THREEEEE! FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner, DEEEEE!! JACK JONES: NOOOOOOOOO! BILL HEWSON: One down, one to go, D! shows us just why he is the Champion of Champions! JACK JONES: But... Devastation assured me he would be dominant! BILL HEWSON: The heart of D!, you can't measure it! This young man simply will not lay down. He didn't for The Plague, he didn't for Chris Casino, he didn't for Ravager, and he didn't for Devastation! Now he gets his title shot --- oh come on! No! Devastation and Lloyd Rees, those jackals! They're going to break D! in half--- JACK JONES: What a shame, looks like D! isn't going to be in any condition to wrestle again tonight. BILL HEWSON: Devastation hauls D! onto his shoulders --- and there's the Burning Hammer! D! has been, well, devastated by the Charitable Trust! And--- Hit it.
"We're scrapped valentines- And there he is. The aura. The hate hate hate. Wearing both the original NAPW Title belt and the second, Americanized version around his waist (RVD style). Static. The champion. The man who tried to take Rex Caliber's eye. The man who for months, months, accused D! of every thing he possibly could in his paranoia. And he's bearing down on a fallen D!. BILL HEWSON: And here comes that scavenger, that screwy lunatic... he's going to take advantage of D!'s downfall at the hands of his buddies the Charitable Trust! JACK JONES: That's what makes him a CHAMPION, Bill Hewson. I guarantee you D! will do whatever it takes to be the champion, why shouldn't Static? BILL HEWSON: D! doesn't need an army to win his matches, he fights with honor! JACK JONES: Oh yeah, he's been real honorable since winning the Tournament Of Champion. A real honorable, insufferable son of a --- BILL HEWSON: Oh my God! Static with a cover ONE, TWO, Th---D! kicks out! Static pops up, bobbing his head D-Lo style. You KNOW beneath his mask there is one HELLUVA grin. D! is down, he is out, but on pure INSTINCT he kicked out. Static leans back against the ropes, quite content to let D! expend precious energy just trying to get up. Referee Dick Kiebiech has hit the ring, discharging Specs of the responsibility for the main event. After all, Devastation isn't wrestling in it. The Charitable Trust have headed to the back at the bequest of Static. BILL HEWSON: And D!... he's up to his feet... and DOWN. Static clearly was paying attention the last match, he knows D!'s back was put through the wringer. The inverted DDT to the knee by Static... and there's a cover, again only a two count. JACK JONES: D!, just STAY down. Think of your career... it's not much, but even that won't last if you try to win this thing. Static has D! on the canvas, and now he's... arguing with the referee? And while he does so, Static puts his shin right over D!'s throat. D! kicks the canvas, struggling for air as Static holds up two fingers to argue with Kiebiech. The crowd is growing more disgusted by the minute. JACK JONES: Somebody tell these fans that we can't afford another riot, for God's sake! BILL HEWSON: These fans have had just about enough of the actions of Winchell's associates, the Heavyweight Champion in particular. This isn't even a match right now --- Good God! Did you HEAR the crack of that enziguri kick by Static?! JACK JONES: It was the sound of D!'s championship aspirations exploding, Hewson! D! is face first on the canvas, and watch out for Static... he goes to the ring apron, slingshot guillotine legdrop to the back of D!'s head! D! twitches, but Static isn't done yet. He rolls D! over and drags him to the middle of the ring. Static with a burst of speed, hits the middle ropes, ASAI MOONSAULT --- hits the KNEES. D! had enough wherewithal in him to recognize his position, and now Static is gasping for air on the canvas, he landed right on the knees of D! But D! is still down, the rallying chants of the crowd hardly having any effect. Kiebiech looks to begin a standing ten count, but the Champion is already up. He's holding his gut, but now Static's ANGRY. Stomp stomp STOMP. Sick stomps to the back of D!'s head, and here we go --- standing moonsault! Static makes a cover, ONE, TWO, Kick out by D!. Static pulls at his hair, then pulls D! up. Wait a minute... he hits it! FUNCRUSHER! The cover~! ONE! TWO! THREEEEEE SHOULDER UP! BILL HEWSON: Unbelievable! D! will not stay down! He will not stop kicking out before three! The crowd is solidly behind him now, can D! make a comeback? JACK JONES: If the expression on Static's face is any indication, Hewson... D!'s a dead man. Forget about a comeback, here comes the pain! Static is virtually tearing his hair out. The crowd gets on him, chanting "STATIC SUCKS, STATIC SUCKS". Static's eyes bulge and he screams at the crowd. SCREAMS. "Your mother sucked my voodoo last night! You can suck my voodoo! And you, and you, and you... AND THIS MOTHER(BLEEP)ER RIGHT HERE CAN SUCK MY VOODOO! (BLEEP) YOU TOO!" Static turns around and kneels over D! in the mount position, grabbing a handful of air. He pulls the man's face up, SLAP. "WHY!" SLAP. "WON'T!" SLAP. "YOU!" SLAP. "DIE!" SLAP. D! slumps back to the canvas, spit coming from the corners of his mouth. He's never been beaten like this, never been through the wringer like he has in the past few days, flights to and from Boston, the match with Karl Brown, the beating by Devastation, and now this. Now Static. Now the One-Man Crimes Spree. Static chokes D!, drawing the referee's count --- BILL HEWSON: Static getting in the face of Dick Kiebiech! He'd love nothing more than to get disqualified in this contest... he'd retain his title! JACK JONES: Hewson, it's worse than that, I think Static has snapped. I mean, MORE than usual. D! doesn't know what he's doing, kicking out again and again! Static is just going to escalate the violence --- GLINT. BILL HEWSON: Oh my God, it's the screwdriver. JACK JONES: ... like that. BILL HEWSON: Static will get disqualified if he uses that screwdriver, and that will keep the belt on him, but I don't know if Static cares! But look at Dick Kiebiech! He isn't going to let the match end in that way! My God, Kiebiech is actually trying to wrest the screwdriver away from Static NO! JACK JONES: What was Kiebiech THINKING?! BILL HEWSON: He was thinking that he wanted there should be a WINNER, but ... but Static DDTed the referee to the canvas! And NO, no, no! The Asai Moonsault on top of Kiebiech! Static just took the referee out of the match! JACK JONES: Well... he can use the screwdriver if the ref doesn't see it, but... how can he WIN? BILL HEWSON: I don't think he CARES. Static looks down at Hewson, then raises his head and soaks in the roaring, deafening boos. SUDDENLY The boos become CHEERS JACK JONES: TURN AROUND, CHAMP! Static turns AROUND AND D!. IS. STANDING. BILL HEWSON: D! D! DEEEEEEE! D! FIRES! D! LASHES OUT~! KICK! KICK~! ROUNDHOUSE! Static drops, pops back up, D! kicks him IN THE (BLEEP)ING FACE. Static caught in the ropes, D! doesn't stop, he doesn't let up, he pounds away on Static with every amount of chops, punches, kicks, strikes he can! And then... he wraps the ropes around Static's arms! The Champion has nowhere to go, and D!... One Letter, Said Real Loud, looks down and... picks up the screwdriver. BILL HEWSON: What is D! going to do? He's got Static tied up in the ropes, he's got the screwdriver --- Static with a low blow! JACK JONES: Don't SCREW with Static, Bill Hewson. It'll only turn out BAD for you. Static caught D! between the legs with a desperate kick, and then he wrenches himself free of the ropes. Static is dazed, trying to get it together from D!'s brutal semi-barrage. He picks D! up, right forearm to the face, and now he's screaming in D!'s face, "YOU WANT TO SCREW ME, BITCH?" He picks D! up for FUNCRUSHER2--- D! SLIPS BEHIND --- WRAPS --- NYQUIL DRIVER. Nyquil Driver! D! covers! But... there's no REFEREE. And D! looks utterly defeated as his eyes find Kiebiech down and out. BILL HEWSON: D! had the title right there, he had the match won, but there's no referee! Static made sure of that --- and wait a minute! Oh my God, it's Lloyd Rees AGAIN. And he's got the steel chair he used on the Delivery Men last night --- LOOK OUT D! --- CLANG. JACK JONES: Check please! Bill Hewson, this match is OVER. BILL HEWSON: Lloyd Rees is trying to revive Dick Kiebiech, Static is going to the top rope --- He's going for it! MOMENT! OF! CLARITY! He covers, there's still no ref, Lloyd trying to get the ref up --- JACK JONES: This is IT, Bill Hewson, HOLY HELL BILL HEWSON: It---It can't be! BOTH: THE MAN IN BLACK?! THE MAN IN BLACK... who last week was revealed to be JOSEPH WINCHELL... suddenly runs to the ring! He grabs the chair dropped by Lloyd Rees! CLANG! Lloyd gets taken out and sent to the outside! Static takes a look at The Man In Black, wondering "What the hell are you doing Winchell" CLANG. Static gets a chair shot right to the top of the head, dropping him to his knees. Static looks over, the Man In Black puts the chair down... he hauls Static up! TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER ON THE CHAIR! JACK JONES: Joey, Joey, what are you doing? What are you --- wait a minute! THERE'S Winchell! BILL HEWSON: Joseph Winchell WAS the Man In Black, he revealed himself last week --- but --- Joseph Winchell is coming down the aisle, and THIS Man In Black just destroyed the Heavyweight Champion! The Man in Black --- HE JUST POPPED WINCHELL IN THE MOUTH! JACK JONES: Don't CHEER that, you humanoids! The crowd is going BALLISTIC... and then in the ring, Static is legitimately UNCONSCIOUS. D!... D! is up, enough. He looks at Static, he looks at the steel chair, he looks in the aisle at The Man In Black hauling ass to the entrance way, looks at Joseph Winchell, looks at Dick Kiebiech shaking the cobwebs loose in his forehead... D! looks at the crowd... And covers Static, hooking the leg. BILL HEWSON: Wait a minute, D! is covering Static --- I don't believe it --- Kiebiech is counting! ONE! JACK JONES: NOT LIKE THIS! BILL HEWSON: TWO! A heartbeat. CROWD: THREEEEEEEEE! FRANK WARBURTON: Here is your winner... and NEWWWWWWWWWW NAPW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPEEEEEN... DEEEEEEEEEE!! In the aisle, Joseph Winchell is SHOCKED, mouth hanging open wide! Static is down! Lloyd Rees is getting up, holding his head. D! is on his knees, face down, exultant... and then Kiebiech hands him the two NAPW title belts! D! roars in victory, the crowd roaring with him, cheering, chanting D! D! D!. BILL HEWSON: I don't believe it! D! is... for the third time... the NAPW CHAMPION! JACK JONES: But look at how he did it, Hewson! He didn't EVEN win the match, he took the scraps left by ... well, The Man In Black! But Joseph Winchell was the man in black... what the hell just happened here? BILL HEWSON: Look at Winchell's face...couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. The win... yes, it is controversial. But D!... is once again... the NAPW CHAMPION! For Jack Jones, this is Bill Hewson saying GOOD NIGHT! The final shot of Get The Hell Off Our Lawn Part 2 is not one of rioting, it's one of joy. D! is on the corner. Holding a belt in each hand, two styles of NAPW Championship. Lloyd Rees helps Static out of the ring in the background. But the camera remains firmly focused on... "D! D! D! D! D!" Lights down.
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