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| Location: | Arena: | Date: | Attendence: | Event Rating: |
| Jayne Stadium | Morehead, Kentucky | 07/19/05 | 4,190 |  |
| Introduction |
 [Riptide opens with the AWA logo, followed by a shot of the dark Morehead sky. That’s right, tonight’s Riptide is taking place in an outdoor arena known to the Morehead State Eagles as Jayne Stadium. Built in 1964, the stadium offers a nice location and the weather is cooperative on this fine evening. Although the stadium isn’t even halfway filled, there are people where it matters in the ringside seats. “We Die Young” by Alice in Chains kicks in over the speakers and echoes through the night, but there are no acoustics and it comes with an echo, much like the cheering from the fans. J.J., Oxford, and Cliff make their way down to the broadcast table as the camera catches a glimpse of a few choice signs around the arena.] We want midgets! Never tangle with a Griffin. “Souled Out” = Greatest Atlantic Champion ever!. Cliff Anderson:: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Riptide! We're coming to you live from Jayne Stadium here in Morehead, Kentucky, and boy have we got an all-star lineup tonight! Every title is on the line here tonight, so I hope you don't have anything planned for the next two hours! J.J. Jackson:: No doubt, yo. Thiss gonna be off da hook, bro! Oxford Flanigan:: I'm still appalled by Nightbane’s recent actions. He’s desecrated the AWA Heavyweight Championship…the BRAND NEW Heavyweight Championship! Cliff Anderson:: Indeed he did. I’m curious as to what repercussions he’ll face at the hands of Richard Cormier. And speaking of repercussions, what will Mr. Cormier have in store for one Josh McCool, the man that aided Nightbane in winning the title? Oxford Flanigan:: First up tonight, the Professionals defend their coveted Tag Team Championships against Willis Clayton and his monstrous sidekick, Grendel. |
| Tag Team Match: The Professionals vs. Willis Clayton & Grendel | Tag Team Championships |
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Dr. Payne  Allen Stevenson 453 lbs. 4/1/0 |  | Willis Clayton  Grendel  562 lbs. 0/2/0 |
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[The camera pans up to the ring where Clayton and Grendel are awaiting the Tag Team Champions. Bachman Turner Overdrive hits, and out walks the gynecologist and the accountant to a nice ovation from the Morehead faithful. They head down to the ring with their belts gleaming and ready themselves for the upcoming contest. Referee Mitch Horton calls for the bell, and the match is underway.] Oxford Flanigan:: You know, I don’t understand how these two lummoxes, Grendel and Clayton, continue getting shots at the titles. They’re easily the worst team in the tag team division, yet here they are again going for the gold. J.J. Jackson:: Mehbe dey fit real nice unduh Cormier’s desk, if ya know what I means… [Payne and Grendel start it off, and Payne goes to work on him from the onset. A quick tag to Stevenson, and the Professionals are well on their way to breaking down the big man. Finally able to fight free, Grendel tags in Clayton, who pummels the small accountant back into the corner. Allen fights back and tags the gynecologist back in. A series of strategic tags finds Willis Clayton at the mercy of the champions, and things are looking grim for the AWA’s number one curtain jerker. Stevenson tags back in and plants Clayton with a bodyslam, then heads to the top rope for the Frog Splat. Clayton rolls out of the way, then throws the Fierce Accountant to the outside. Following him out, Clayton and Stevenson begin brawling in the aisle while Horton makes the ten-count. Grendel and Dr. Payne join the fray, and a full-on brawl ensues. Horton continues counting as Payne plants Clayton with a powerbomb on the concrete. Stevenson charges at Grendel, but the curtain jerker backdrops Stevenson into the fans. Grendel catches Payne with a surprise clothesline, then sprints back towards the ring. Grendel dives in under the bottom rope just before Horton reaches ten! the fans are shocked.] Cliff Anderson:: Wow. Clayton and Grendel just defeated the Tag Team Champions. Fortunately for the Professionals, they retain their titles on a countout, but a win's a win. [The Professionals retrieve their titles and head to the back, leaving Clayton on the concrete and Grendel standing victorious in the ring.] |
| Punishment |
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[The camera cuts backstage, where we find a red-faced Richard Cormier speaking with AWA Commissioner W. Williams Suhgs. The sight of Suhgs on the AWA-Tron actually raises a few cheers from the fans, as he’s been absent over the past few weeks. Cormier appears to be dictating some terms to the Commissioner.] Richard Cormier:: So you know what to do, right? [Suhgs slowly nods his head.] Richard Cormier:: And when I say “gauntlet”, I’m not talking about those things you wear on your arms, either. Now go ahead and make the announcement. I’ve got business to attend to. [Cormier turns and marches off-camera, leaving Suhgs to do his duty. Suhgs turns and walks in the other direction. The camera follows him as he rounds a few corners and makes his way through the curtain out into the stadium. The fans are cheering as the moon hangs high overhead. Suhgs is handed a mic from a stagehand.] W. William Suhgs:: Hey! Hey! Hey, hey, hey! Hey! Hey. [While a small portion of the crowd is cheering, most are booing.] W. William Suhgs:: Boy, is it great to be back in Morehead! [This statement brings a cheap pop from the crowd.] W. William Suhgs::Wait a minute…actually, I’ve never been here before in my life! This place sucks! God, I hate Kentucky! [His sudden change of heart produce a proportional change of heart from the crowd in the form of boos.] W. William Suhgs:: Nothin’ like a bunch of inbred idiots… Cliff Anderson:: Inbred idiots? In that case, Suhgs should feel right at home. I wonder how Horea’s doing… [The crowd continues to boo the AWA Commissioner.] W. William Suhgs:: Look, as much as I love coming out here, I have a job to do…unlike most of you welfare patients. I’m out here to announce a slight change to Josh McCool’s WHRO Television Championship match… [Sensing that Suhgs is up to no good, the crowd immediately shows its displeasure.] W. William Suhgs:: Now McCool, we’re friends, and I really, really, really don’t want to do this… [The crowd craps all over the Commissioner’s mock sympathy.] W. William Suhgs:: Okay, that’s a bold-faced lie. I’m enjoying every minute of this. Now don’t get me wrong…you’re still facing Revilation tonight for the TV Title… [Suhgs begins smiling while looking out at the fans.] W. William Suhgs:: Right after he face Rosco Pico Train, 40 oz, the False Marquis, and Machine! That’s right, you Son of a Bi{bleep}, tonight you get to run MY gauntlet! Do you have the stamina, you big, dumb idiot? Do you have what it takes to beat five men in a row? We’ll find out. But I guarantee that when tonight is over, you’ll be walking out of here without your precious little belt! Now, I’m gonna go backstage and have a seat, stare up at the ceiling, and just space out. Hit my music! [The crowd boos as W. William’s music hits and he struts back through the curtain beneath the AWA-Tron.] Cliff Anderson:: While the weather her tonight is being cooperative, W. Williams Suhgs is not… |
| Standard Match: Fifteen Minute Time Limit: Josh McCool vs. Rosco Pico Train | WHRO Television Championship |
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 6'9" 287 lbs. Powerhouse 17/0/0 | | 6’4" 201 lbs. Submission Grappler 0/8/0 |
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[Rosco Pico Train trots out to the ring to a dismal reaction from the fans. Once inside the ring, he begins gently caressing one of the dark red turnbuckle pads, causing a few fans to laugh at his idiocy. McCool’s music hits, and the Son of a Gun bounds out from the back. The fans are on their feet for the undefeated WHRO Television Champion. McCool holds his belt high for all to see, then heads across the field towards the ring, slapping a few hands along the way.] Oxford Flanigan:: I think tonight is the night that Josh McCool receives his first check in the loss column. Cliff Anderson:: Well, the odds certainly don’t appear to be in his favor. McCool’s best strategy would be to take his opponents out as quick as possible and conserve energy. Five matches in a row is ridiculous, and Cormier knows it. [McCool hands his belt over to Jimmy Jack Paige as the music cuts out and the fans die down. Rosco Pico Train looks to lock it up with McCool to begin the match, but McCool levels him with the Facelift, followed by the cover. The fans cheer heavily as Paige counts the three.] Cliff Anderson:: Wow. That wasn’t even ten seconds! Well, there’s one down. Only four more to go. [Train rolls to the outside of the ring clutching his chest in pain as McCool spins around with his eyes on the entrance. He hops back and forth on the balls of his feet, eager with anticipation as 40 oz makes his way out from the back.] |
| Standard Match: Fifteen Minute Time Limit: Josh McCool vs. 40 oz | WHRO Television Championship |
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6'9" 287 lbs. Powerhouse 18/0/0 | | 6’6" 240 lbs. Powerhouse 1/4/2 |
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[Mr. Ounce receives virtually no reaction from the fans. 40 oz slides into the ring and is met immediately by Josh McCool. Paige rings the bell, and the match begins. McCool lifts 40 oz by the throat and tosses him into the corner, then squashes him with a running shoulder tackle. 40 oz stumbles out of the corner and his knees look like they’re about to buckle. McCool bounces off the ropes and knocks the alcoholic beverage for a loop with the Facelift. Dropping down to his knees, McCool makes the cover. 1…2…3!] Oxford Flanigan:: At least he lasted longer than ten seconds... Cliff Anderson:: Not much longer... [40 oz rolls out of the ring and heads to the back, following the footsteps of Rosco Pico Train before him. As he’s making his way to the back, crazy circus music starts up and out prances the overweight Marquis, complete with both ears. The False Marquis passes 40 oz on the way down to the ring and gives him a love tap on the behind. 40 oz appears both offended and scared, but apparently more scared than offended as he beats cheeks to the dressing rooms in an attempt to put distance between himself and the Marquis.] |
| Standard Match: Fifteen Minute Time Limit: Josh McCool vs. The False Marquis | WHRO Television Championship |
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6'9" 287 lbs. Powerhouse 19/0/0 | |  6’2" 268 lbs. Brawler 0/2/0 |
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[The False Marquis slowly oozes into the ring under the bottom rope and stares McCool up and down. The referee calls for the bell, and the match begins. McCool and the False One circle one another before the fraud suddenly charges at McCool and attacks with a series of headbutts to the chest. McCool just stands there, looking down at the False Marquis as he continually rams his forehead into his massive pectorals. Having dished out enough, the imposter goes for an Irish whip. Again, McCool just stands there. The False Marquis attempts the whip again, but McCool jerks him back, boots him in the stomach, and hurls him through the air with the WMD! The fans go crazy as McCool plants his boot on the imposter’s chest to pick up the three-count.] Cliff Anderson:: Well, McCool’s easily dispatched his first three opponents, but his next opponent is no slouch. In fact, this is a rematch from last week’s Riptide… |
| Standard Match: Fifteen Minute Time Limit: Josh McCool vs. Machine | WHRO Television Championship |
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6'9" 287 lbs. Powerhouse 20/0/0 | |  7’5" 432 lbs. Powerhouse 6/11/0 |
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[The bright stadium lights begin to flicker as Machine makes his way down to the ring sans James Nightbane. The fans boo the Giant German, but he seems oblivious to the Kentuckians. Pulling himself up onto the ring apron, he steps over the top rope and gazes across the ring at the Television Champion. McCool returns his stare, not intimidated in the slightest. The fans begin to buzz, remembering their brutal battle from last week’s Riptide. Paige calls for the bell, and the two giant bulls go at it.] Cliff Anderson:: This is one of the few times that you’ll ever see Josh McCool dwarfed by another competitor here in the AWA. Machine is a freak of nature… Oxford Flanigan:: Yeah, if you consider steroids natural… Cliff Anderson:: Are you insinuating that Machine has a high blood-steroid content? [Machine overpowers McCool from the beginning of the match. Although McCool is in great physical condition, he’s showing signs of fatigue from his three previous matches. Shoving McCool into the corner, Machine begins landing his giant meathooks all over the upper torso of Josh McCool. McCool covers up in the corner as Machine hammers all over his body. Shoving Machine away, McCool dances out of the corner and circles around the big Machine. Machine is too massive, and he traps McCool in another corner. He begins pummeling him again, and again McCool puts up his guard while Machine hammers away.] Cliff Anderson:: This is a very interesting tactic here by McCool. I think he’s trying to get the big guy to punch himself out. While it may drain him physically, which might not be the best idea since he’s still got Revilation to face if he gets past Machine, it may be the only strategy he’s got right now. [Machine whips McCool into the opposite turnbuckle, then smashes him with a running clothesline that almost knocks McCool over the ropes. Machine continues to wear out the champion as the fans begin to rally behind McCool. Timothy Cormier gets on the microphone to announce that there are only ten minutes left in the match.] Oxford Flanigan:: By the way, where’s Jolly Roger tonight? Why’s Timothy doing the announcing here tonight? Cliff Anderson:: You know, I’m not quite sure. I heard he was in some sort of accident. I hope he’s okay. [Machine wraps his massive arms around McCool and puts the squeeze on him with a giant bearhug. McCool tries to fight out, but the German is just too strong. The fans continue to rally behind the TV Champion, but his strength slowly seems to be fading. However, every time he seems to slip into unconsciousness, he suddenly sputters back to life. Machine continues to crush McCool with his vice-like grip, and the Son of a Gun is doing everything he can to just hang in there.] Cliff Anderson:: We’ve just passed the ten-minute mark. There are now less than five minutes left in this match. McCool’s been trapped in that bearhug for quite some time now. I don’t know how much longer he can last… [McCool’s body goes limp as Machine continues to squeeze. Paige raises McCool’s arm and it drops. He raises it a second time, and again it drops. A third time, and it begins to fall limp, but before it can drop all the way, McCool comes to and begins pumping his arm. The fans begin cheering as McCool struggles to break free from Machine’s clutches. McCool lands three giant right hands to the side of Machine’s head, but it doesn’t even face him. In a last ditch effort, McCool boxes Machine’s ears, then goes to the eyes. Machine finally releases the hold, and McCool staggers back into the ropes.] Oxford Flanigan:: What a cheater… [Only two minutes remain as Machine stalks the champ. Landing a hat trick of uncontested right hands, Machine goes for an Irish whip into the ropes. McCool reverses and sends Machine in. McCool catches the monster with a boot to the gut on the rebound. Sliding him into place, McCool wraps his arms around the big man’s waist and prepares for the WMD. The fans come to their feet! McCool torques with all his might, but Machine shoves McCool back into the ropes. McCool ricochets off the ropes and Machine latches a gloved hand around the throat of McCool. Lifting McCool into the air, Machine plants him with a chokeslam!] J.J. Jackson:: D{bleep}! Cliff Anderson:: I think we’ve got a new TV Champion! But is there enough time left? [The seconds tick away as Machine drops to his knees and covers McCool. 1…2…kickout! The fans erupt as the remaining ten seconds wind down. Machine pulls McCool up to his feet and plants him with the Jacknife Powerbomb in the center of the ring. The time expires as Machine drops down to the mat to make the cover. He hooks McCool’s leg, but the match is already over. The crowd is going crazy, but Machine seems confused. Not knowing what else to do, Machine begins pummeling a helpless McCool.] Cliff Anderson:: McCool moves on to the final leg of the gauntlet…or should I say what’s left of McCool! Machine is beating the living heck out of him! Fans, don’t go anywhere! We’ve gotta take a quick commercial break! |
| Commercial Break |
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[A couple is taking a stroll on a city street. Hand in hand, they are the picture of happiness. Cresting a hill, the gentleman sees the Borgata Hotel Casino & Spa, and his face lights up.] Man:: Hey, it's the Borgata! Let's go, honey! Woman:: Okay! [They begin to run towards the casino, but are accosted by a mugger.] Mugger:: Gimme your cash, or the broad gets it! [The man fumbles for his wallet. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, the mugger is slammed into a wall by "Son of a Gun" Josh McCool.] Man:: Thanks, Josh! Josh McCool:: No, thank YOU for making the right choice. Let's see what might have happened if you had made some different decisions. [The scene flashes back to when the couple reached the top of the hill.] Man:: Hey, it's the Borgata! Oh...but I'm not sure we can afford to gamble. Woman:: Besides, gambling can damage your mental health. [The mugger appears again and demands the money. The man again searches for his wallet, but as he feels for it, the mugger shoots him in the stomach. The man doubles over in agony. His wife shrugs and grabs the arm of the mugger. They walk off together, searching the contents of the man's wallet. The scene cuts back to McCool and the couple.] Josh McCool:: Now, you see what I mean? Man:: Yes, sir! I'm glad I chose the Borgata! Josh McCool:: I agree. After all, isn't it worth a "shot?" [The three erupt into belly laughs and the scene goes into freeze frame.] Voiceover:: Come out and play at the Borgata Hotel Casino & Spa, or else a mugger will kill you and sleep with your wife. |
| Standard Match: Fifteen Minute Time Limit: Josh McCool vs. Revilation | WHRO Television Championship |
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6'9" 287 lbs. Powerhouse 21/0/0 | |  6’2" 260 lbs. Extremist 6/10/0 |
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Cliff Anderson:: Welcome back, fans! We’re joining this match in progress. There are about ten minutes left, and Revilation has been dominating McCool all throughout the commercial break. McCool is running on fumes at this point, and I think it’s only a matter of time before Revilation puts him away for good. [Oddly, Machine is still standing at ringside...almost as if he doesn’t know what to do next. He appears lost without Nightbane there to guide him. In the ring, Revilation is beating the daylights out of McCool. Revilation hits a piledriver, then goes for the cover. 1…2…McCool barely manages to get a foot on the bottom rope. Revilation continues the onslaught as Machine watches on outside the ring.] Cliff Anderson:: I don’t see how McCool can last much longer. He’s been in the ring for nearly twenty-five minutes now, and Revilation is still fresh. [Revilation drops McCool on the back of his neck with a suplex, then goes for another cover. 1…2…kickout! The fans are getting behind McCool again, but he’s got that faraway look in his eyes. The timer dips below five minutes as Revilation sends McCool into the ropes. McCool ducks a wild swing and bounces off the opposite side. McCool comes off the ropes with the Facelift, swinging with all his might. Revilation ducks, causing McCool to stagger into the ropes. Revilation charges from behind and nails McCool with a high knee, sending McCool out of the ring. Paige stops Revilation from exiting the ring, and while he’s doing this, Machine slams McCool headfirst into the steel ringpost.] Oxford Flanigan:: That was absolutely smashing! [Machine lifts McCool up off the ground and deposits him back into the ring. Revilation goes for the cover, but McCool weakly gets his boot on the bottom rope. Revilation drags McCool to the center of the ring and attempts the Sacrifyce, but McCool backdrops him. The crowd begins to cheer.] Cliff Anderson:: Time is running short. If Revilation’s gonna put him away, he’s gonna have to do something quick. [Revilation heads to the top rope as McCool staggers around in the middle of the ring. Revilation comes off the top rope with a double axe-handle, but McCool catches him with a boot to the gut. Pulling him into position, McCool musters the rest of his strength to WMD the challenger! The crowd goes banana, but McCool is too exhausted to make the cover. The begins cheering on McCool as he slowly crawls over to Revilation and drapes an arm over him. 1…2…kickout! Revilation gets the shoulder up!] Cliff Anderson:: This is gonna come right down to the buzzer. There’s less than a minute left. [The fans begin booing. The camera pans to the entrance, and we find out why. Nightbane runs down the aisle towards the ring, and almost as if on cue, Machine climbs up onto the ring apron. With the referee distracted with his giant enforcer, Nightbane slides into the ring. McCool and Revilation are both back on their feet, and Nightbane takes advantage, dropping McCool with the End of Light! Revilation looks confused, but the confusion is kicked off his face as Nightbane drops Revilation with the End of Light, also! The crowd is going crazy, not sure what’s going on. Nightbane drags Revilation over to McCool and drapes his arm over the champion. Nightbane bails out of the ring and Machine steps down off the ring apron. The final ten seconds tick away as Paige spins around and spots Revilation covering McCool.] Cliff Anderson:: …seven, six, five, four… [Paige slides into position and makes the count. His count mirrors the final three seconds of the countdown. 1…2…kickout! Bzzzzt! The time expires as McCool gets the shoulder up at the last second! The crowd goes banana!] Cliff Anderson:: McCool’s done it! He’s survived the gauntlet! I don’t know how, but he has! [Clearly frustrated on the outside of the ring, Nightbane slides back into the ring. Machine follows him in. The Heavyweight Champion has a few words with the referee before shoving him out of the ring. Nightbane points to McCool, and Machine slowly nods. Three chokeslams later, and McCool isn’t moving. Proud of their work, Machine and Nightbane head to the back.] |
| The Doctor's Office Guests: Glitz and Glamour |
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Cliff Anderson:: That was an amazing show of fortitude by Josh McCool. But right now, we’ve got another installment of the Doctor’s Office. Tonight, Doctor Payne has the unenviable task of interviewing the AWA’s newest tag team… Oxford Flanigan:: Unenviable task? Glitz and Glamour is going to become the most dominant tag team in AWA history. Mark my words, Clifford. [A remixed version of “Takin’ Care of Business” by Bachman Turner Overdrive echoes throughout the stadium, and out walk the Tag Team Champions for the second time tonight. Each man has his respective title strapped around his waist. They head down to the ring and climb into the Doctor’s Office. Stevenson drops to his knees, looking at his briefcase. Payne stands tall behind him and raises his ominous black bag into the air. The fans cheer as several fans snap pictures. Payne sets his medical bag on the table and produces a microphone.] Dr. Payne:: Ladies and geni{bleep}s…welcome…to the Doctor’s Office!!! [The fans cheer for the good doctor’s trademark line, and he gives a slight grin. Then, his grin turns into a look of sadness. He slowly wipes a tear away from his eye.] Dr. Payne:: Geni{bleep}s, it’s with great sorrow and sadness that I announce the passing of Vagi{bleep}al Vision… [The fans let out a sympathetic “Awww”, then begin laughing as Payne sheds some fake tears.] Dr. Payne:: But let’s get to the real reason myself and Stevenson are out here. For reasons unknown to me, Richard Cormier has given us the task of interviewing the newest additions to the AWA roster…Glitz and Glamour. Now, I don’t know where Cormier keeps getting these scrubs, but I do know that the Professionals will keep treating them. So, without further adieu, the Doctor’s Office would like to welcome Glitz and Glamour! [“Don’t Cha” by The Pussycat Dolls plays over the PA system and out walk the AWA’s newest tag team, Glitz and Glamour. “The It Girl” Amber Crombie is the first one out, followed by Bobby Glamour and Johnny Glitz. The gorgeous Amber Crombie is carrying a confetti cannon, which she aims and fires out into the crowd. The stunning trio heads out across the field to the ring, where the Doctor’s Office awaits. Glitz and Glamour enter the ring receiving a mixed reaction from the crowd.] Dr. Payne:: Whoa, whoa. Hold on a second. I knew we were supposed to be interviewing the AWA’s newest tag team, but who is this fine piece of meat? What’s your name, Miss? Bobby Glamour:: Whoa, Whoa Whoa. That's totally uncalled for. First of all, her name is Amber. Second of all, if you have a question for her, you’re going to have to ask one of us... Dr. Payne:: Well, I must say that she looks mighty fine from right here. But I'm wondering, what does she look like underneath that skimpy little outfit? A pretty girl like her, she must get around quite a bit. Am I right boys? Of course I am. So I'm thinkin' you might need a little time in the stirrups. How 'bout it, are you ready for your checkup? Johnny Glitz:: You've got to be kidding me...what do you mean what does she look like under her clothes? That's in total violation of the conduct for coolness. The only thing she "gets around" is the world’s most perfect tag team, and the only thing that needs to be checked up on is your cool meter, because it’s totally at a five right now...and that's not cool... Dr. Payne:: Well, if we’re not cool, then the Professionals must be hot. And judging from these Tag Team Titles, I’d say that assessment is right on the money. You see, we’re the hottest commodity in the AWA’s tag team division. Johnny Glitz:: That must be why you two couldn’t get the victory over those B-stars, Willis Clayton and Grendel… [There is an awkward silence as the Professionals and Glitz and Glamour stare at one another.] Dr. Payne:: Look, I just thought I'd offer. But seriously, who are you guys? I mean, you look a little too pretty to be in this business. Maybe it should be you two making a stop in the stirrups… Bobby Glamour:: Pretty? Did you just say...pretty? I think the word beautiful fits the bill a little better. I mean...look at me. I'm 6', 231 pounds of chiseled man. I'm willing to bet you've never seen somebody this beautiful...or THAT cool in your entire life… Johnny Glitz:: Yeah. I'm the type of cool...and he’s the type of beautiful that you only see in movies. I'm talking James Dean cool. I'm talking Michael Jackson cool...in his Thriller days. I mean we're Matt Damon and Ben Affleck beautiful. I'm talking Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt beautiful... Bobby Glamour:: Take it easy there, Johnny. I've got to stop you for a minute. Your cool ratings are so going through the roof right now. If you were any more cool, I think I'd freeze to death. Allen Stevenson:: Hey Payne, what’s with these guys? They remind me of these two sisters that used to live next to me that were always after my savings… Dr. Payne:: I was just wondering the same thing. I mean, I’ve gotta give it to you three, you’ve definitely got the look. Heck, I can see that, and I'm just a gynecologist...a WRESTLING GYNECOLOGIST! You've definitely got the charisma...but can you wrestle? 'Cause it looks to me and Stevenson here that you two look like a couple of...va{bleep}nas. Bobby Glamour:: Wow. Those would be two extremely cool and beautiful vag{bleep}s, don't you think? Johnny Glitz:: Right you are my beautiful tag team partner. I mean wouldn't a v{bleep}na kill to be this cool? Wouldn't it benefit from being that beautiful? I mean really...we're talking to a guy who can only get a woman to open her legs for a Pap smear. What a way to get to a girl’s... [Amber Crombie leans in and whispers something into Johnny’s ear.] Johnny Glitz:: …”special place.” Dr. Payne:: Stevenson, that sounded like they were provoking us. Were they provoking us? Allen Stevenson:: I think they were provoking us. Dr. Payne:: Man, I was just about to offer Miss Crombie my special full service twenty-point oil change free of charge, but now my feelings have been hurt. But maybe it was for the better. I mean, a woman that’s been around as much as her…she might have have syphilis or gonorrhea, or she might have something really cool that I’ve never even heard of… [“The It Girl” looks disgusted by Payne’s comments, but the fans can’t get enough. Glitz and Glamour appear to be losing their cool as the begin taking off their valuables and unbuttoning their designer shirts. The Professionals look at each other and smile.] Dr. Payne:: At first, I only thought they were provoking us…but now I’m certain. Let’s dish out some punishment. [The fans begin cheering as the Professionals unsnap their belts and set them on the table next to the black doctor bag. Amber Crombie grabs her boys and tries to usher them out of the ring. They reluctantly give in and begin heading to the outside as the cheers turn to boos.] Cliff Anderson:: These fans wanna see a fight! [Glitz and Glamour step through the ropes as the Professionals grab their belts and hold them up high overhead for all to see. However, Glitz and Glamour have other things in mind. Bobby and Johnny don’t step out of the ring. Instead, they level Payne and Stevenson from behind, causing the belts to go flying. Glitz and Glamour throw Stevenson over the top rope, the grab Payne and hold him up as “The It Girl” Amber Crombie approaches him with her hands on her hips and an irritated look on her face. She points her finger in his face while mouthing a few words to him, then she plants a designer boot square in his groin. Payne drops to his knees, but the fun isn’t over yet…] Cliff Anderson:: That was a Hollywood-sized boot right in the sweetmeats! [Glitz locks Payne from behind as Glamour sizes him up. Glamour superkicks Payne right into a Johnny Glitz bridging German suplex. “Beautiful” Bobby Glamour makes the unofficial three-count, then the three of them celebrate in the ring. As Payne is down and out on the mat, Amber Crombie climbs onto his chest and strikes a seductive pose. As she’s doing this, Glitz and Glamour each grab a Tag Team Title and pose beside her. A group of photographers at ringside gather at the ring apron and snap dozens of photos. Their music hits again as Glitz and Glamour, along with “The It Girl”, leave the ring with the Tag Team Championships while the crowd boos.] Cliff Anderson:: It appears the Richard Cormier has hired a band of thieves… |
| Regrouping |
|
[The shot switches to the backstage area, where a fuming Cormier is seen speaking with W. Williams Suhgs again. Suhgs appears confused, and Cormier appears unhappy.] Richard Cormier:: That d{bleep} McCool! He’s been a thorn in my side from day one. That overgrown oaf, he’s having the most ridiculous streak of luck I’ve ever seen. W. William Suhgs:: Yeah, that lucky bas{bleep}d’s pretty banged up. I saw the trainers takin’ a look at him. I don’t think he knows where he is. Ha ha. Richard Cormier:: And James Nightbane…that dirty scumbag! Did you see what he did to the belt?! Well they’re both gonna pay. McCool and Nightbane. Now Suhgs, let’s think about this logically. How can we kill two birds with one stone? [Suhgs ponders for a moment.] W. William Suhgs:: Well, I suppose if you threw the stone hard enough, you might be able to knock one bird into another… [Cormier crisply slaps Suhgs in the back of the head, causing him to bite his tongue. Suhgs grabs at his tongue as Cormier continues.] Richard Cormier:: Idiot. No. Tonight, Haze is going to get the Heavyweight Championship back from that second-rate talent, James Nightbane. Then, next week, we’ll pit McCool and Nightbane against one another. It’ll be perfect! They already hate each other as it is. Next week, we’ll watch them destroy one another! W. William Suhgs:: Oh! That’s brilliant! Why didn’t I think of that? [Cormier looks at Suhgs in disbelief.] W. William Suhgs:: Whoa! Wait a minute. How do you know that Haze is gonna beat Nightbane tonight? Richard Cormier:: Because he’s Haze! Plus, I’ve got a little insurance… W. William Suhgs:: Kartier and Revilation? Richard Cormier:: No, no. Not them…here, I’ll show you. Buddy, get in here. [Cormier motions for somebody off-camera. After a few moments, an old man with a wrinkly, droopy face hobbles into view wearing a black and white referee’s top.] Richard Cormier:: Buddy, here is going to be the referee in tonight’s main event! Since Perry Daton couldn’t do an adequate job, I was forced to find a suitable replacement. W. William Suhgs:: Wait a minute, your name is Buddy? [The old man nods while simultaneously trying to keep his dentures from falling out. Suddenly, Josh McCool barges into the picture. He doesn’t look happy. However, when he speaks, he’s eerily calm.] Josh McCool:: You know, I could rip both of your heads off right now, but I won’t. And let me tell you why. You’ve been making my life a living h{bleep} ever since you’ve reopened the AWA. Now, it’s time for me to repay the favor. Tonight, in the main event, you’d better bulk up on security, because I’m gonna tear down the house. Richard Cormier:: McCool…so big, yet so foolish. Don’t ever reveal your gameplan to the enemy, because something like this could happen. Tonight, I’m banning Josh McCool from ringside! Ha ha! As a matter of fact, that goes for everybody in the SWF, also. Actually, the only people that ARE allowed at ringside are the competitors, the referee, and the Chosen. Josh McCool:: And what makes you think that a ban is gonna stop me? Richard Cormier:: Well, anybody that breaks this ban…will be fired! Just like Perry Daton. [The crowd boos as a broad smile forms across Cormier’s face. McCool glares at Cormier and Suhgs, then at Buddy. Buddy winks at McCool. McCool examines Buddy for a second, then shrugs his shoulders, turns, and calmly walks away. Cormier continues to beam as he turns to Suhgs.] Richard Cormier:: You see, my boy, that’s why Haze is going to be bringing home the title tonight… |
| Pre-Match Bastardos |
|
[The camera breaks away from Suhgs, Cormier, and Buddy to find the Super Bastardo Bros. walking down a corridor on their way out to the ring. They appear to be going over their gameplan for tonight’s match.] Plaz Bastardo:: Alright Loki, this is what we're going to do. If any one of us gets into trouble in the ring at any time, one of us will have to distract the referee in the corner, while the other one bails out whoever's in the ring. [Loki speaks as if he hasn’t been listening to a word Plaz has said.] Loki Bastardo:: That Dick…! [Plaz cuts in.] Plaz Bastardo:: What’d you say?! Loki Bastardo:: That Dick Cormier, he’s a genius! Plaz Bastardo:: Oh, okay. I thought you meant something else. What's that got to do with tonight? Loki Bastardo:: Everything! Dick's large and in charge and he does things very aggressively. Whenever something's wrong, Dick just explodes on the situation and takes care of it. He's a mastermind. Plaz Bastardo:: I get it Loki, you like Dick's... [Plaz pauses for a moment as Reece Williams walks by. He takes a second to admire her before finishing his thought.] Plaz Bastardo:: …stand up and take charge attitude. That's understandable. He’s at the top of his game right now. Loki Bastardo:: But you know what makes me angry? Plaz Bastardo:: What’s that? Loki Bastardo:: McNasty, man. He’s a real di{bleep}. Plaz Bastardo:: Loki, watch your mouth. We’re on TV! Loki Bastardo:: Well I don’t care. The Outlawz are di{bleep}s, too! Plaz Bastardo:: You know that the censors are just bleeping you out now, don’t you? Loki Bastardo:: Really? They can do that now? Plaz Bastardo:: Um…yeah. Loki Bastardo:: What a bunch of di{bleep}s. If Dick were here right now, I'd tell him that those di{bleep} censors are censoring his show. I don't think Dick would like that much. I mean, he's already got to deal with those di{bleep} Outlawz and that di{bleep} McNasty. Dick's a very important man, and for him having to waste all of his time dealing with all these di{bleep}s, I mean that's just ri-DIC-ulous. Dicks I tell you. All of them, that's what we need. A bunch of Dicks around here. That would eliminate all these problems with these other di{bleep}s we've got around here. Plaz Bastardo:: So what you're saying is, if everyone were a Dick... [Amber Crombie walks by in her sexy little outfit, followed by Glitz and Glamour, who are carrying the Tag Team Championships. However, Plaz is too busy staring at Amber Crombie to notice the men with the belts.] Plaz Bastardo:: …Cormier, instead of being a bunch of di{bleep}s, then we could make this a better AWA? Loki Bastardo:: Exactly! That's what I've been saying the whole time. Now let's go beat McNasty and those Outlaw di{bleep}s...really hard! Plaz Bastardo:: You’re an idiot… Loki Bastardo:: What’d I say? [The camera fades back out to the ring inside of Jayne Stadium as the Bastardos reach the entrance.] |
| Six-Man Tag Team Match: The Outlawz & Donny J. McNasty vs. Super Bastardo Bros. & Brian Zane |
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Mike Edwards Nick Soapdish Donny J. McNasty 653 lbs. | | Loki Bastardo  Plaz Bastardo Brian Zane 646 lbs. |
|
Cliff Anderson:: Those Bastardos are something else, and up next they team up with the Pefect Prima Donna to take on team SWF. [The music hits and out come the Outlawz and Donny McNasty, full of energy as always. The crowd erupts for the SWF alumni as they have beers galore. The Soapdish, McNasty, and Edwards begin distributing the beers to the fans at ringside, children and adults alike. The shot quickly switches over to a pre-recorded shot of the crowd.] Oxford Flanigan:: Did those buffoons just give beer to that young child?! Cliff Anderson:: They sure did... [The shot returns to the ring to find the Outlawz and McNasty on separate turnbuckles saluting the crowd. The Bastardos’ music hits, and out walk the Bastardos, accompanied by former three-time Television Champion Brian Zane. The three AWA stars walk down to the ring with Zane keeping his distance from Loki. Zane and Plaz climb into the ring, and Loki slithers in. The referee checks all six men and the match begins.] Cliff Anderson:: This match is pitting the SWF against some of the AWA’s finest, even though they aren’t Cormier’s Chosen AWA stars. [Zane and Edwards start the match. Zane uses his technical skills to take apart the Outlaw, but Mike Edwards is able to tag in McNasty. McNasty doesn’t bother with the technical stuff and begins taking Zane apart with his fists. The Nomad pummels Zane all around the ring, culminating with a whip to the ropes followed by a powerslam and cover. 1…2..kickout! Zane is able to make the tag to Plaz, and the fight in the ring continues.] Cliff Anderson:: Apparently these six men don’t like one another… [Plaz takes advantage over McNasty with an unseen low blow. Plaz and Loki begin double-teaming McNasty with several quick tags and several nearfalls. After being cut off from his side of the ring for several minutes, McNasty finally hits the Queen Killer on Loki and fights across the ring to make the tag. Soapdish hits the ring and cleans house, sending the Bastardos and Zane reeling to the outside. The fans are going nuts and the chants start up.] Crowd:: SWF! SWF! SWF! [Zane enters the ring and he and Soapdish go at it. Soapdish comes at Zane with fists flying, but Zane takes him to the mat with a textbook double-leg takedown. Rich Verboncour jogs out from the back as Zane locks in the Zane Vice on Soapdish. Soapdish struggles to break free, but Zane releases the hold when he spots Verboncour. Rich provokes him to leave the ring, and Zane complies. Zane dives off the ring apron and tackles Verboncour to the ground. Both men begin trading punches and rolling around on the field as the remaining men in the ring ignite a giant brawl. The Bastardos clothesline the Outlawz out of the ring, then begin working on McNasty. The match has gotten out of hand, and the referee has no choice but to call for the bell.] Cliff Anderson:: This match has been ruled a no contest by the referee, and understandably so. He had no control in that match, so ruling it a no contest was the right thing to do. [The Bastardos are about ready to nail McNasty with a spike piledriver when Griffin Youngblood sprints out from the back and levels Plaz with a clothesline. The fans erupt as McNasty fights back against Loki. Youngblood nails Plaz with the Technicality, then rolls him out of the ring as the Nomad tosses Loki threw the ropes to the outside. The fans are going crazy as Griffin and McNasty turn and stare at each other.] Cliff Anderson:: Uh oh, sparks could fly. These two have a storied past, and they've been in some of the bloodiest bouts this sport has ever seen. Who could forget that Choose Your Fate match they had in the SWF? [After staring at each other for awhile, Griffin slowly extends his hand. McNasty looks at his hand, then shakes it in a show of SWF unity. The fans begin cheering again.] Cliff Anderson:: Don’t go away. We’ll be right back. |
| Commercial Break |
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[The AWA logo scrolls across the screen followed by the HQ logo. The scene opens up to show Machine standing in front of a computer. A voiceover starts as the leather clad giant looks around to find where the voice is coming from.] Voiceover:: Hello. The man standing here is Machine. He can't talk so the " HQ Rotunda" with its blinding PERTIUM III microprocessor speed will speak for him. [Machine looks at the computer as the screen and speakers come to life. When the computer speaks, it’s in a robotic Tandy64-like voice.] Computer:: Hello, I am mach...ine. I am...a superstar for the A...W...A. [Machine looks at the computer and produces what can only be described as part groan part whine.] Computer:: I am a one...time Tag Team Champ...ion. [Machine scratches his head in confusion.] Computer:: My tag team partner is James...Night…bane. [Upon hearing his friend’s name, Machine goes bonkers. He picks up the computer and slams it on the floor, shattering it into thousands of pieces. Machine walks away while the computer slowly blinks to life.] Computer:: Ow. [The screen fades to black with the AWA logo and the HQ logo scrolling by as the voiceover continues.] Voiceover:: HQ…our computers can piss off a mute! |
| Triple Threat Match: Kris Kartier vs. Griffin Youngblood vs. Rich Verboncour | Atlantic Championship |
|
6'1" 236 lbs. Extremist 9/9/0 | |  6'4" 258 lbs. Mat Technician 0/3/0 | |  6'3" 245 lbs. Submission Grappler 4/3/0 |
|
Cliff Anderson:: Welcome back, fans. You’re just in time for tonight’s Atlantic Championship match. Griffin and Verboncour are already in the ring, and here comes the champ, Kris Kartier. [Kartier’s music hits, and out walks one half of Richard Cormier’s Insurance Policy with his belt draped over his shoulder. Kartier enters the ring, and the match begins. Youngblood and Verboncour immediately go after Kartier, and Souled Out doesn’t even have a chance.] Cliff Anderson:: I wonder if we’re gonna be seeing Brian Zane during this match. Verboncour made an appearance in Zane’s match, will Zane return the favor? [The match continues with Verboncour and Youngblood pummeling the Atlantic Champion senseless. However, whenever one man attempts a pinfall, the other man is there to break it up. Eventually, Youngblood and Verboncour become frustrated and start attacking each other. While this is happening, the Perfect Prima Donna strolls down to the ring. Verboncour sees him and immediately goes after him. The two begin brawling in the aisle once again. Referee Mitch Horton has no choice but to count him out.] Cliff Anderson:: Rich Verboncour has been counted out. That means he’s eliminated from this match and it will now continue as a standard Atlantic Championship match. [Youngblood and Kartier begin tearing into one another as the fans get behind Youngblood. The chants slowly start up around Jayne Stadium.] Crowd:: SWF! SWF! SWF! [Every time Youngblood gets an advantage, Kartier resorts to an underhanded tactic to regain control. The crowd is rallying hard behind Griffin, and he starts to gain the upper hand against the Atlantic Champion. Griffin locks in a full-nelson, then hits a bridging suplex. 1…2…kickout! Kartier is reeling, and Griffin moves in for the kill. Griffin sets him up for the Technicality, but Kartier breaks free, grabs Youngblood by the back of the head, and tosses him over the top rope!] Cliff Anderson:: That's a disqualication! Kris Kartier has taken the cheap way out! He loses the match, but he retains the title... Oxford Flanigan:: Hold on, Griffin's still on the ring apron. [The referee is about to call for the bell to disqualify Kartier, but he realizes that Youngblood is still on the ring apron. Kartier raises his fists into the air, believing the match to be over, and the fans are cheering...but not for him. A strange look forms on his face as he wonders why fans are cheering. Youngblood steps back into the ring as the volume continues to rise. He waits for Kartier to turn, then boots him in the stomach and plants him with the Technicality. The crowd lets out a wave of cheers, but rather than go for the cover, Youngblood locks in the Griffin Submission!] Cliff Anderson:: The Griffin Submission! And they're right in the center of the ring! I don't think Kartier can get to the ropes! [Kartier can't get to the ropes, but it doesn't matter. Revilation flies out from the back and slides into the ring. The other half of the Insurance Policy begins putting the boots to Youngblood, causing the referee to call for the bell, disqualifying Kris Kartier. The fans begin booing as Revilation works over Youngblood. Kartier recovers, then joins in on the beating. The boos turn into cheers as Donny McNasty sprints out from the back with steering wheel in hand!] Cliff Anderson:: Here comes McNasty to even up the odds! [McNasty waffles Revilation with the steering wheel, the begins stomping a mudhole in him in the corner. Griffin mounts an offense against Kartier, but the Atlantic Champion halts him with a boot to the gut. Kartier bounces off the ropes and attempts a clothesline, but Griffin laces his arm around Kartier's, spins around behind him, and hurls him through the air with a release Dragon suplex! At the same time, McNasty tosses Revilation out of the ring. Kartier rolls to the outside, and the Insurance Policy head to the back while McNasty and Griffin stand in the center of the ring.] Crowd:: SWF! SWF! SWF! Cliff Anderson:: Youngblood and McNasty have just taken out the trash! Don't leave your seats because Showtime and Mandrake are up next! |
| Standard Match: Mandrake vs. “Mr. Showtime” Mikey Wryght |
|
 6'3" 217 lbs. Daredevil 15/5/0 | |  6’3” 253 lbs. All-Rounder 5/8/0 |
|
[Showtime makes his way down to the ring to deafening cheers as the “SWF” chants start up again.] Cliff Anderson:: The last time these two men met, it was in last month’s Heavyweight Championship tourney, and Mikey Wryght came away with the victory. However, Mandrake has been on a roll lately, and I don’t envy any man that has the chore of facing him in the ring…or anywhere else for that matter. [Wryght enters the ring as Mandrake’s music hits, and the ominous individual slowly walks out from the back. The boos rock the stands, but Mandrake doesn’t mind. He seems almost pleased. Mandrake slowly heads to the ring to face his rival. Jimmy Jack Paige checks both men, then starts the bout.] Oxford Flanigan:: Mandrake is the cruelest man I’ve ever seen in my life. He disposes of careers like they’re yesterday’s rubbish. [Mandrake and Showtime lock up, but Mandrake’s aggression is too much for Showtime. Mandrake begins beating Showtime at will, landing dozens of shots to the face. The fans watch in awe as Mandrake pummels Mikey Wryght all around the ring.] Cliff Anderson:: What’s gotten into Mandrake? He’s a man possessed! He’s handling Mikey Wryght, a legitimate legend in the wrestling world, like he’s an amateur. [Mandrake continues his assault, pounding Showtime from pillar to post. Showtime looks like he’s about to go down, but he retaliates with a giant right hand that rocks Mandrake and the place goes crazy. Showtime lands another right hand…and another. Mandrake is wobbling. Wryght goes to the ropes and charges Mandrake, leveling him with a clothesline. Showtime drags the daredevil to his feet by his flaming red hair and whips him into the ropes. The Kill Devil Hills Daredevil ducks a big boot and bounces off the far side. Showtime throws a lariat, but Mandrake ducks that as well.] Cliff Anderson:: If he hits those ropes any harder, they’re gonna snap! [Mandrake rebounds off the ropes with incredible velocity, wraps an arm around Showtime’s neck, spins around behind him in mid-air, and plants him with the sleeping neckbreaker! The fans let out a collective gasp due to the extremely high impact of the move. After the impact, Showtime’s body is left in a heap with his legs twisted off to one side.] Cliff Anderson:: That’s the Omen, better known now as the Lament Configuration! [Mandrake slowly covers Showtime, hooking the leg as the referee makes the count. 1…2…3! The fans stand in shock as Mandrake stands and towers over his opponent. Mandrake’s music hits, but he continues to stare down at Showtime. Without warning, Mandrake begins laying heavy boots into the head of Showtime…] |
| Just Another Victim |
|
[…but after about a dozen, Mandrake drops out of the ring and retrieves a steel chair. The fans begin booing as the Crimson Demon slides the chair into the ring and follows it in. Before the daredevil even has a chance to set the chair up, the SWF hits the ring. The Outlawz are the first ones in, followed by McNasty, and finally Griffin Youngblood. All four men lay waste to Mandrake, forcing him out of the ring. They help Showtime to his feet as the chants start up.] Crowd:: SWF! SWF! SWF! Cliff Anderson:: The SWF has just cleaned house, and these fans love it! [The SWF plays to the fans in the ring, and they don’t even notice when Mandrake slides into the ring with shovel in hand. McNasty is the first to take notice, and he receives a solid shot to the mid-section, dropping him to the mat. Soapdish gets nailed across the back of the head, knocking him to the outside of the ring. Griffin turns around and gets a boot to the stomach, followed by the shovel across the back. Mike Edwards has Mandrake lined up and executes the ‘Kira Kick, but Mandrake ducks and swings for the groin area, doubling the Outlaw over. In a matter of seconds, Mandrake has reduced the SWF to a pile of bodies as the fans boo mercilessly. Showtime is still dazed as he turns towards Mandrake. Mandrake catches him with the shovel to the mid-section, then he sets the chair up in the center of the ring. Mandrake drags Showtime over to the top rope and pulls him up for a powerbomb.] Cliff Anderson:: Mandrake has just decimated the SWF, and now he’s going to cripple Mikey Wryght! Security can’t stop him. Officers can’t stop him. Not even the SWF can stop him. Can anybody stop the Kill Devil Hills Daredevil?! [As if answering a prayer, “Paint it Black” by The Rolling Stones twangs through the humid night air. The fans erupt as the stadium lights dim and the stadium is cloaked in darkness. Mandrake drops Showtime down to the mat and looks towards the entrance. A bright light shines out from behind the curatians, illuminating the silhouette of the Phenom. Upon seeing this, the eruption grows even louder. Mandrake exits the ring and begins walking towards Sadistic’s silhouette. Suddenly, the music stops and the lights resume, revealing that Sadistic is nowhere to be seen. Mandrake is left halfway up the ailse gazing at nothing.] Cliff Anderson:: The Sadistic One continues playing mind games with the Kill Devil Hills Daredevil. [Suddenly, the AWA-Tron comes to life and a message appears:] [The crowd begins cheering again as Mandrake gazes up at the big screen with a grin on his face before heading to the backstage area.] |
| Interviewing the Abomination |
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[The camera catches up with Mandrake as he calmly strolls down a corridor somewhere in the back. Reece Williams runs up to him with a microphone in hand, eager to get a few words from the daredevil.] Reece Williams:: Mandrake! Mandrake, can I get a few words with you? [Mandrake stops and turns his head towards her impatiently.] Mandrake:: What could you possibly want to know? Reece Williams:: I want to know what’s gotten into you this past few months. Why have you been ending people’s careers and leaving the ring full of carnage every night? Mandrake:: Sometimes, you can’t send a message with words alone… Reece Williams:: I take it you’re sending a message to Billy Sadistic… From what we’ve just seen, Sadistic is gonna be coming for you at Symphony of Destruction. Mandrake:: Finally, no more running and hiding. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. At Symphony of Destruction, it will all end. After years and years of hunting him down, this feud between us will finally be laid to rest once and for all. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find somebody… [Mandrake turns to leave, but Reece grabs his arm to stop him from going.] Reece Williams:: Hold on. Are you sure you’re okay? Something’s bothering you. You’re not the Mandrake I remember… [Mandrake ponders the statement for a second, then nods his head, as if he’s just thought of something.] Mandrake:: I’ve got it…I know what’s missing. [Suddenly, Mandrake doubles over and begins dry heaving loudly. Reece looks mortified, and puts a hand on his back to comfort him. Mandrake suddenly stands upright, clears his throat, and hocks an enormous loogey onto Reece’s face. Reece takes a step back, and she looks like she wants to scream and break down crying all at once. Mandrake shrugs disappointedly as he snatches the mic from her hand.] Mandrake:: Sorry, I couldn’t get any blood that time… [With that, Mandrake shoves the mic into her chest and strides out of view. The camera returns to the ring, where the thunderous boos of the crowd can be heard.] |
| Commercial Break |
|
[The scene opens on the shot of a man’s face. He has shaggy, uncombed hair and a five o’clock shadow. He’s missing a few teeth here and there and judging from the dirt and grime in the creases of his face, it looks like he hasn’t bathed in quite some time. It’s surprising that you can’t smell him through the video feed, he looks so filthy.] Man:: Ey theya, mooty. Myyyy name is “Sweet” Joey Motherboy, and I’s poor. Poor like dirt, an’ I don’ know what else ta do. I sit heya holdin’ up dis sign all day, and I swears to ya that I’ll work fer food, but nooooobody will gimme the time o’ day. So alls I’m askin’ is that you come on down heya to tha corner o’ Fifth an’ MLK an’ toss me a coin or two. Thass all I’m askin’… [The camera pans out to reveal the busy city streets. People are passing Motherboy by without so much as a penny dropped into his scummy little hat. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he’s dressed in the nicest suit money can buy, sitting on the hood of his brand new Ford Mustang, but who am I to judge?] |
| Hello Darkness my old friend… |
|
[Riptide returns to a shot of James Nightbane, the AWA Heavyweight Champion. His burnt, soiled championship belt rests on his shoulder as he directs his sunken eyes towards the monster known as Machine. Nightbane pats him on the chest, then turns to the camera.] James Nightbane:: Cormier. Haze. Dean. These names mean nothing to me. [Nightbane hefts the belt off his shoulder and holds it in front of him with both hands, looking at the title. He pretends to adjust his hair in the reflection of the blackened title, then drops it to the ground.] James Nightbane:: That belt means nothing to me. But causing pain, especially to Richard Cormier…now that means a lot to me. So Haze, if you want the belt, take it. Of course, you’re going to have to take it from me, but that shouldn’t be a problem, right Haze? For a big star like you, it should be like taking candy from a baby. It should be…but it won’t be. No, I think it’ll be more like taking a cookie from a Machine… [The big guy nods his head slowly.] James Nightbane:: And speaking of Machine, tonight you’ve gotta stay back here. Okay? As if the odds aren’t stacked against me already, that little colostomy bag, Cormier, has banned everybody from ringside, and that means you. So hang tight…I won’t be long. [Nightbane produces a cookie and hands it to the Giant German, and he’s immediately preoccupied. As Machine munches on the tasty treat, Nightbane slips away…] |
 Standard Rematch: James Nightbane vs. Haze | Heavyweight Championship |
|
 6'6" 249 lbs. Mat Technician 11/9/0 | | 6’3" 225 lbs. High Flyer 18/4/0 |
|
[Haze’s patriotic anthem hits, and out walks the senator from Idaho. The boos are off the hook as he’s accompanied by Revilation, Kris Kartier, and Richard Cormier. The referee for the contest, the wrinkly old Buddy, makes his way out and limps down to the ring. While of decent size, he appears to be nearly eighty years old. Haze steps into the ring, followed by Buddy, the special referee.] Cliff Anderson:: As if the biased referee weren’t enough, Cormier has banned everybody that’s not in the Chosen from ringside. It’s gonna be nearly impossible for Nightbane to walk out of Morehead with that title. Oxford Flanigan:: He doesn’t deserve it anyhow! You saw what he did to it! [Nightbane’s music hits, and out walks the AWA Heavyweight Champion without his big German friend. While a small portion of the fans boo, many of them cheer for him by default. Nightbane drags the belt along at his side, allowing it to scrape across the ground, on his way to the ring. Nightbane enters the ring, and the referee slowly calls for the bell.] Cliff Anderson:: Well, folks, this is the second week in a row that we’re being treated to a Heavyweight Championship match. It’s a rematch from last week in which Nightbane pulled off the huge upset over Haze to obtain the Heavyweight Championship. [Nightbane and Haze stand nose to nose, talking trash to each other. Haze makes the first move, slapping Nightbane across the face. Nightbane retaliates with a monstrous slap that sends Haze to the mat. The fans begin cheering as Haze rolls out of the ring to regroup with his stablemates. Buddy, the referee, doesn’t issue the mandatory ten-count, so Haze is able to stay outside the ring talking strategy with his “boys” for quite some time before crawling back into the ring.] Cliff Anderson:: There’s the biased officiating I was talking about. [Upon entering the ring, Haze strikes with a blatant low blow. The referee says nothing about it as Haze begins pummeling Haze senseless. Haze hits a brainbuster, followed by a quick pinfall attempt. 1…2…kickout!] Cliff Anderson:: Well, at least he didn’t try a fast count. J.J. Jackson:: Mehbe he did. Mehbe he juss can’t count no fasta… [Haze continues the onslaught, but Nightbane counters out of nowhere and plants Haze with a piledriver. Nightbane goes for the pin, but Buddy conveniently gets something in his eye. Buddy tries to get “it” out of his eye, and is too busy to make the count. Nightbane becomes angry and approaches the referee. While he’s confronting the referee, Haze hits a bridging German suplex from behind. 1…2…kickout!] Oxford Flanigan:: Haze is doing a great job early on… Cliff Anderson:: Of course he is! With that moron in the ring, he can do no wrong. [Cormier and company seem pleased with Buddy’s officiating as they cheer on Haze from ringside. Haze continues pounding on Nightbane, scoring several nearfalls, but he can’t put Nightbane away for good. Nightbane starts making a comeback, ending with the End of Light. Haze is knocked flat and Nightbane covers him, hooking the leg. 1………2………kickout! The fans begin booing the slow count.] Cliff Anderson:: Talk about a slow count! Give me a break! [Nightbane is angry, but he continues to work on Haze. Nightbane goes for an Irish whip, but Haze reverses. As Nightbane hits the ropes, Kartier drills Nightbane in the back with his barbed-wire Singapore cane right in front of the referee. Nightbane stumbles forward right into a DDT from Haze. Haze goes for the cover, hooking the leg tight. 1…2…kickout! Haze pats the referee on the shoulder, urging him to count faster. Haze lifts Nightbane off the mat and drives his head into the mat with Democracy. Looking to finish the champ off, Haze climbs to the top rope and hits Capital Punishment! Nightbane is out! Haze quickly covers him for the win. 1…2…suddenly, Buddy pulls his hand up after the second count and holds it in pain.] Cliff Anderson:: What in the…? Did he hurt his hand or something? Why’d he stop? [Cormier looks confused on the outside as he asks Buddy what the problem is. Buddy points to his hand, claiming that it’s injured. Haze is also confused, and he checks on Buddy to see if he’s okay. Buddy shakes his hand a few times, then indicates that he’s okay. Haze pulls Nightbane off the mat, but Nightbane strikes with a boot to the mid-section, followed by Darkness Falls! The crowd erupts as Nightbane quickly makes the cover. With lightning speed, Buddy is down on the mat to make the count. 1.2.3!] Cliff Anderson:: … Oxford Flanigan:: … J.J. Jackson:: Whoa… [Cormier and his goons look on in horror, and Nightbane looks shocked as well. Buddy slowly stands and reaches up to his face…] |
| That never happened! |
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[…and begins peeling his face off.] Cliff Anderson:: The referee is pulling his skin off! What’s going on here?! [The referee pulls the cosmetic mask off his face, then pulls the white wig off his head, revealing Bryant Dean underneath. The crowd goes insane as he looks down at Cormier on the outside of the ring with pieces of fake skin still hanging from his face. Cormeir is incensed as he orders his men to storm the ring.] Cliff Anderson::It’s Bryant Dean! He’s screwed Cormier over yet again! [Revilation and Kris Kartier slide into the ring, but Bryant begins clobbering them before they’re even through the ropes. Nightbane watches for a moment before retiring from the ring, allowing Dean to take on the Chosen on his own. Dean fends of the Insurance Policy from the inside of the ring, but he can’t stop Haze who hammers him from behind. Haze and the Insurance Policy begin stomping away on Dean as Cormier climbs into the ring.] Richard Cormier:: Hold him for me! [Cormier’s boys hold a dazed Bryant Dean, allowing Cormier to talk a little trash to him before measuring him and drilling him with a solid punch in the mouth. Dean falls to the mat as the four men circle around him.] Crowd:: SWF! SWF! SWF! Cliff Anderson:: Here comes the cavalry! Here comes the SWF! [Although still feeling the effects of Mandrake’s shovel, the Outlawz, McNasty, Showtime, and Youngblood run out from the back to a thunderous roar! They hit the ring and are met by the Chosen as they come through the ropes. Cormier dives to the outside to avoid the conflict as his Chosen fight off the SWF. Finally, the numbers are too much and the SWF gains the upper hand to the approval of the crowd. “Name of the Game” by The Crystal Method hits, and out run the Super Bastardo Bros.] Cliff Anderson:: The Bastardos? What are they doing out here? [Loki and Plaz dive into the ring and go right after the Outlawz. The arrival of the Bastardos turns the tide for the Chosen, and the SWF are driven from the ring. The SWF regroup in the aisle with Bryant Dean as the Chosen square off with the Bastardos. Cormier enters the ring and approaches the Bastardos. He looks at them for a second, then opens his arms. The Bastardos step forward and engage in a big group hug with Cormier, prompting the fans in Jayne Stadium to hurl garbage into the ring.] Cliff Anderson:: Oh no…the Bastardos have joined forces with Cormier! Folks, that’s all the time we have for you tonight! We’ll see you next week! [Riptide fades to black with the Chosen staring down the SWF with the stars hanging low in the dark sky.] |
