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::TUESDAY NIGHT TURBULENCE::
MOSHER: "Hello, and welcome to another Tuesday Turbulence! This is Cpt Mosher, here with the Greasy Mexican!" MEXICAN: "Aye carumba, folks!" [Before Mosher can utter another word, he is drowned out by the beginning of "No Chance". This recieves a lot of crowd heat.] MOSHER: "What the devil is this?!" [Clive McMartyn strides out down the ramp. He grins smuggly at the booing fans about him.] MOSHER: "Well, he sure isn't going to win any popularity contests here!" [Clive collects a mic at ringside, then stamps up the steps into the ring. He seems to have left his cronies behind this time, as there is no sign of Ingham, Quartman or McMartyn Jr anywhere.] MEXICAN: "It's Mr McMartyn! What better way to start off any show than with some words from such a great man?!" [Clive is having a little difficulty, however, in beginning his address. A chant of "Asshole!" has been taken up and prevents him from being heard. An annoyed scowl crosses his face and he lifts the mic to his chin. He has to shout aloud to be noticed at all.] CLIVE: "WOULD YOU PEOPLE SHUT UP?!" [This merely causes another burst of heat, however it does succeed in stopping the chant.] CLIVE: "That's much better." MEXICAN: "I can't believe these ungrateful mules would boo him! What's wrong with them, eh gringo?!" CLIVE: "Now, as usual you common slugs prefer to think with your asses instead of your brains, otherwise you'd hear me out before you started being so insulting!" [This does not make him any more popular.] CLIVE: "If you want to hear what I have to say, I suggest you be quiet and let me get on with it!" [After a few seconds the noise dies down.] MEXICAN: "A shock announcement by senor McMartyn?! I'm so excited!" CLIVE: "Now, as some of you may have noticed, every month the CWF holds a 'Pay Per View Show'. Do you all know what that is? No? Well, it doesn't matter. My point is that we shall hold one this month. It will be 'Shindig-Slam'!" [Mention of an approaching PPV is enough to lift the fans to their feet.] CLIVE: "Furthermore, following tradition, the CWF World Title belt will be contested." [This gets a pop, too. A chant of "Swede!" begins, referring, of course, to Phil, the reigning champ.] CLIVE: "I see you HAVE noticed who holds that title. I guess you're not all as slow as you look!" [This turns the crowd hostile again.] CLIVE: "Before I can make my announcement, I want someone to be here to hear it. That someone is none other than... 'The Huckster' Bob Jones!" [A big pop.] CLIVE: "Come on, 'Huckster', get down here! I'm not going to wait all day!" [There are a few moments of silence, then, suddenly, "Real American" hits. There is a tremendous pop as the eccentric veteran prances his way down the ramp, flailing his arms in his familiar taunts. He makes a complete lap of the ring, slapping the hands of the eager fans leaning over the security rail, then mounts the apron and ducks through the ropes.] MOSHER: "I'm not sure Clive made such a wise move by calling 'Huckster' out here!" MEXICAN: "What, you don't think 'The Huckster' is more dangerous than Mr McMartyn, do you?!" [The music finally fades out. Bob moves to the centre of the ring and stares levelly at Clive. The confident McMartyn raises his mic to speak.] CLIVE: "So, you made it out here without your walking stick, then?" [Despite this obvious provocative action, "The Huckster" makes no moves against Clive. Instead he raises his arms and looks at the fans. They give him a huge pop. He points at Clive in an exaggerated way, allowing the fans to respond with a single cry of "Asshole!". Bob grins at Clive. McMartyn just glowers back.] CLIVE: "The reason I called you down here is because my announcement concerns you. I'm sure you must be aware that the belt will be on the line at 'Shindig-Slam'?" ["The Huckster" nods, slowly.] CLIVE: "Thought so. I bet you'd love to be the one competing for that belt, huh?" [Again he nods.] CLIVE: "I knew that too. Well, you can get stuffed!" [Jeering greets Clive's sentence.] CLIVE: "I shall explain why that is, presently." [Clive waits while the crowd quietens down once more.] CLIVE: "Now, before the belt can be contested, a viable contender must be selected. That is why I have scheduled a match for Redemption between 'The Huckster' Bob Jones, that being you, and my very own son, Andrew J. McMartyn!" [Half the fans give a massive pop for Bob, the other half start jeering the mention of Andrew.] CLIVE: "The winner of this match will be the undisputed number one contender, and will wrestle whoever is the champion come 'Shindig-Slam'!" [Bob remains standing still, waiting for Clive to continue.] CLIVE: "Now, the reason that this fossil standing before me WON'T be competing for the belt, aside from the fact that his life expectancy probably isn't as long enough, is that there is no damn way on earth he can beat Andrew!" [The fans are about to start chanting and jeering again, but Bob raises his hand for quiet. He steps up to Clive and gently procures the mic. The two men stare daggers at each other. Bob leans forward, getting right in Clive's face.] HUCKSTER: "Listen here, brother! 'The Huckster' doesn't hear all this crap you spout about how great your runt of a son is! All 'The Huckster' hears is that if he beats your little whelp on Thursday, 'The Huckster' will be competing for the title at 'Shindig-Slam'. Is that right?" [Clive drags the mic back to him.] CLIVE: "Yes..." [Bob pulls the mic back the other way.] HUCKSTER: "And once that match is over, the winner will DEFINITELY be competing for the title belt? No-one can change that?" CLIVE: "Yes..." HUCKSTER: "Then I have only one more question...." [Clive nods, expectantly.] HUCKSTER: "If that's all sorted, why are you still standing up?!" [Clive has a second to look confused before Bob shoves him to the mat. "The Huckster" gets a massive pop as the CWF Chairman lands on his rear in the middle of the ring!] MEXICAN: "Aye, aye, aye! Bob is going to go loco on Mr McMartyn! We need some security out here!" [Just as The Greasy Mexican is wailing for someone to save Clive, Andrew comes belting down the ramp, grasping a steel chair. He slides under the ropes and floors Bob with a swing to the face. Andrew starts waffling the old superstar, giving Clive time to escape the ring. Again, and again Bob tries to stand, but Andrew just bats him back down. Eventually he catches Bob with a blow to the forehead that splits him open. "The Huckster" lies on the mat, bleeding silently. Andrew pauses only to spit on the prone body, then leaves the ring to join his father on the ramp. "No Chance" starts to play as the jubilant McMartyn pair leave the arena, accompanied by the energetic booing from the fans.] MOSHER: "What a crazed assault by the McMartyns on Bob!" MEXICAN: "They just wanted to make a point! What's wrong with Andrew coming down here in defence of his own father?!" [As the commentators bicker, several referees have entered the ring and are assisting Bob up the ramp, but still to the strains of "No Chance", mocking "The Huckster" in place of the absent McMartyns.]
[The scene cuts to the parking lot outside the Magor Hall arena, where the camera pans sideways to reveal a long bright white limousine pulling up. The back door of the vehicle swings open and a pair of leopard skin boots drops to the concrete. The camera pans up and a ground shaking reception rumbles from back inside the arena- the CWF Champion has arrived at the arena! Dressed in a flash white suit and Pimp Hat to match his limo, and with his prized CWF Championship title belt cradling over his shoulder, Phil ‘The Man’ Leach smiles cannily and struts his way towards the arena…]
CWF HARDCORE CHAMPIONSHIP MOSHER: "This should be one hell of a match, Mex! I've got goosebumps just thinking about it!" MEXICAN: "Me too amigo! Damian Ali- the hardcore champ set to take on the now spiltsville Natural Born Thrillaz- Kid Punk and Deftonial!" MOSHER: "We've all seen what these three guys can do in the ring, but I more interested in what they can do to each other!" [The lights go out. The arena fills with darkness. With several red flashes of light, "Bored" hits the speakers. White strobes flash across the stage as Deftonial appears. He is an astounding physical specimen. He charges the ring and pulls himself over the ropes. Deftonial then flexes for the crowd.] TUCK: "The following match is a triple threat match for the CWF Hardcore Championship! In the ring, from Suburban California... DEFTONIAL!!!" [Kid Punk appears as the music hits. He sprints down to the tring, dives and glares at Deftonial, who responds by marching towards him. Referee Dennis Morgan stops Deftonial and sends him back into his corner.] TUCK: "His opponent, also in the ring... KID PUNK!!!" [The lights go red as a feminine scream is heard over the PA. The chorus of boos almost drowns out "Seek and Destroy" by Metallica as it is blaring over the PA. Out comes Damian and Felicia and they survey the audience. Damian rasies his arms in the air... only to flip off the crowd. The boos grow more intense and obsence chants start. Damian and Felicia just laugh as they make their way to the ring, teasing the fans as they go.] TUCK: "Introducing the CWF Hardcore champion- being accompanied to the ring by the CWF Women's Champion, Felicia- DAMIAN ALI!!!" [Ali hands the referee his Hardcore belt and sizes up his two opponents who are standing in opposite corners of the ring.] MOSHER: "Looks like Ali is weighing out the odds." MEXICAN: "Go Ali!" [DING! DING! DING!] [Damian Ali starts off the match by going to spear Kid Punk, but Kid Punk dodges out of the way by jumping to the turnbuckle nearest to him and backflipping over Ali and landing to his feet.] MOSHER: "Kid Punk certainly is athletic!" [Kid Punk gets a huige pop from the crowd for this stun and as he is distracted by this unusual reaction from the crowd, Deftonial suddenly comes from behind Kid Punk and executes a reverse DDT! Deftonial covers Kid Punk...] [..1..] [Damian Ali breaks up the pinfall by stomping on Deftonial! Damian Ali gets Deftonial up and delivers a snapmere suplex down to the canvas. Damian Ali hooks the leg of Deftonial...] [..1..] [Kid Punk dives and smashes Damian Ali on the back of the head with a 2 by 4, causing him to break the pin attempt. Kid Punk then drops the 2 by 4, grabs Ali and whips him across the ropes and goes for the spear but Ali moves and he spears Deftonial Rum down to the mat! Ali goes against the rope and delivers a flying clothesline to Kid Punk knocking him down once again. Ali covers Kid Punk...] [..1..] [..2..] [Deftonial breaks up the pin attempt. Deftonial picks up Ali by the head and throws him over the top rope out of the ring and smashing down to the mats on the outside.] MEXICAN: "Aye carumba!!!" [Deftonial starts delivering hard shots to Kid Punk's face causing him to lean on the ropes and Deftonial whips him across the ropes and kicking him in the mid-section causing him to bend over. He then executes the Digital Bath in the center of the ring and covers him casually...] [..1..] [..2..] [..KICKOUT!] MOSHER: "Deftonial really should have hooked the leg and then he would be in the final!" [Kid Punk gets up with Deftonial's aid and smashes Deftonial in the face with his right hand. He repeatedly does this and then clotheslines him over the top rope to the outside when Ali slides back into the ring. Kid Punk sees this and turns around when Ali delivers a chair shot to the face, followed by a a german suplex. Deftonial slides back in and delivers a big boot to the face of Ali and hooks the leg of him...] [..1..] [..2..] [Kid Punk breaks the fall up! Kid Punk goes to work on Deftonial in the corner leaving him in a heap on the floor. Kid Punk climbs to the top rope and executes a missile dropkick to Ali!!] MOSHER: "Well this is certainly a free for all! Everyone has been on top in this match!" [Deftonial then power clotheslines down Kid Punk when he's posing to the crowd seeing the duo of Ali and Kid Punk down on the canvas! Suddenly Ali comes from behind Deftonial and rolls him up into a pinfall...] [..1..] [..2..] [Deftonial kicks out! Ali grabs Kid Punk and throws him out of the ring. Kid Punk lands on his feet by the announce table and grabs the ring bell!] MEXICAN: "Go on! Split their heads wide open!" [Kid Punk slides into the ring and uses it to send Ali and Deftonial crashing to the canvas with some vicous shots to the head.] MOSHER: "That's gotta hurt!" [Kid Punk has his options open here. He can cover Damian Ali and win the belt or opin his former buddy, Deftonial and win the belt. Kid Punk goes for the cover on Deftonial.] [..1..] [..2..] [..3..] [DING! DING! DING!] TUCK: Here is your winner, and the NEW CWF Hardcore Champion... KID PUNK!! ['Dystentary Gary' plays over the arena sound system as Dennis Morgan hands Kid Punk the Hardcore belt. Kid Punk raises his fist into the air and drapes the belt over his shoulder as he exits the ring. He's about to walk up the ramp when he is approached by a very angry looking Women's Champion...] MOSHER: "Uh oh! I don't think Felicia liked the outcome of this match..." [Felicia starts getting in Kid Punk's face. Kid Punk shakes his head goes to turn away but suddenly shoves Felicia back. The Women's Champion lands on her ass and looks very shocked and offended by Kid Punk's actions. kid Punk shrugs and smiles sadistically before walking up the ramp.] MOSHER: "That was uncalled for! Felicia maybe a bit of a pain sometimes, but that's going too far!" MEXICAN: "That Kid Punk- boy is he unstable!"
[Fallon is on her way towards the arena, all set for her match with Grandma, when she bumps into Acid.] FALLON: Hi sweetie! ACID: Fallon! I'm so glad you made it to the CWF! [The two women hug.] FALLON: Me too! How's Julia? ACID: Been better. That bitch-face Felicia is gonna get her comeuppance, I guarantee that! FALLON: Remind me never to piss you off again, BOSS! [Acid laughs.] FALLON: How are YOU, by the way? What's with that Kyle Reece? He's cute! ACID: Nothing... FALLON: I've seen nothing... and that's definitely not it! ACID: I don't mix work with sex, Fallon. Remember what happened last time I did that? FALLON: Oh yeah, with that Dark Venom guy in the WWCW! Boy, what an arse he turned out to be! ACID: I know! Look, you'd better get going. You're due out there in a sec. Good luck against Grandma! FALLON: As if I need it! That old bat will be out for the count two seconds into the match... [The two women part going in separate directions.] FALLON: Same old Acid- as always changing the subject when she don't want to talk about something...
[Backstage at Magor Hall,, CWF Road Agent Ruth Bowen is standing at the coffee machine helping herself to a beverage when a shadow falls across the table. Somewhat startled, she turns around to see Andrew McMartyn standing beside her. The CWF Co-Owner smiles at her creepily.] ANDREW: “Ah, Ruth, why hello my dear!” [The Road Agent shifts uncomfortably on the spot beneath Andrew’s gaze.] ANDREW: “It seems we haven’t had any time to catch up since this little change about around here… how are you Ruth? Keeping well? I see you’re in prime physical condition at least…” [Ruth shudders as the Co-Owner looks her up and down appreciatively. She decides to hold her ground.] RUTH: “I’m fine; couldn’t be better. I’m loving my job here as a backstage agent with the company thank you very much.” ANDREW: “Oh come on Ruth, please! You’re telling me you’re content in this poxy little job backstage? Your *ahem* “talents” are wasted here, my dear. You should be out in the spotlight, amongst the glitz, amongst the glamour. I’ve always thought you would make the perfect Corporate valet, Ruth. What do you say? The money, the power, the fame … it can all be yours if you join me at my side, my dear. What do you say?” RUTH: “I say you should think again! I don’t, nor will I ever, intend to be just another one of those mindless bimbos you parade around the ring every week! You think that just because you’re a owner of this company, you can do or get whatever, or WHOEVER the hell you like? Well I say that’s manky! Just push off Andrew, I’m not interested in what you have to offer!” [Andrew McMartyn smiles nastily and nods his head in slow agreement.] ANDREW: “Oh, that’s fine. You want to turn down my generous offer, you go right on ahead.” [Still smirking nastily, Andrew pushes his face right in front of Ruth’s.] ANDREW: “… Just remember who pays your wages, sweetheart …” [The CWF Co-Owner stalks off out of the vicinity, leaving a shaken Ruth standing uncomfortably behind. Just then, “DSP” Pete Nancollis, the federation’s head trainer, strides up to the road agent. Pete has a concerned look on his face.] PETE: “Ruth, are you alright? I just saw Andrew harassing you; what was that all about?” RUTH: “Oh, it’s just Andrew being a jerk as usual. He just thinks he can treat anybody the way he wants to around here, just because he’s the bosses’ son.” PETE: “Well frankly, I’m sick of it! It’s time someone told him exactly what they thought about him! Stay here Ruth, I’m going to find Andrew and make sure he leaves you alone once and for all…” [DSP storms off the direction Andrew went angrily. Looking stressed, Ruth calls out after him.] RUTH: “No, Pete … PETE! Pete? Oh, no. I’m sure something bad is going to happen now…” [The camera fades out as Ruth wrings her hands in worry.]
GRANDMA vs FALLON [We return to ringside, where Grandma is already in the ring awaiting her opponent. “My Way” from Frank Sinatra tinkles in the background as Grandma gingerly bends down to drop her walking stick to the mat. Meanwhile, Mr Tuck makes the announcement that will introduce her opponent.] TUCK: “And her opponent… from Leicester, FALLON!” [As “She Was A Teenage Zombie” hits Fallon bounds down to the ring and slides in under the ring ropes. She hops through the ropes and into the ring, waving to the fans- but Grandma moves up from behind and nails her in the back! The bell rings and the music ends as Fallon is yanked sharply off the ropes and shoved down to the mat. Grandma pounds her opponent’s head against the mat repeatedly, then whips her into the turnbuckle. Grandma scores with a running Shoulder Barge and then hits a Scoop Slam. She drops a somewhat lethargic elbow drop and covers Fallon- 1 … 2 … No!] MOSHER: “This match was almost over before it had begun…” MEXICAN: “Just imagine how good Fallon would look in a Bra and Panties Match Mosher! Shes one foxy Senorita!” [Grandma attempts a running elbow drop now, but Fallon rolls out of the way. The Leicester native clambers up and battles back with right hands, driving her opponent into the corner. Fallon dishes out some Shoulder Thrusts in the corner then whips Grandma into the opposite turnbuckle hard.] MOSHER: “Ow, Fallon better be careful with that old lady’s back!” As the match progresses in the ring, Acid has made her way out onto the entrance ramp, where she stands, watching Fallon in the ring coldly. Meanwhile, Fallon rushes at her opponent and goes for a Monkey Flip, but Grandma shoves her back hard and she goes flying down to the mat. She whips Fallon to the ropes and delivers a heavy-handed chop, knocking Fallon to the mat. Grandma covers again- 1 … 2 … Kickout! She goes for a Clothesline, but Fallon ducks the shot and sweeps Grandma’s leg from under her! Fallon mounts the ropes and launches a Missile Dropkick at her dazed opponent. No! Grandma dodges the attack and Fallon crashes to the mat. MEXICAN: “High risk never pays off- unless it’s my hat!!” Grandma hits a Snapmare on Fallon then drags her to her feet. She whips her to one corner, sending Fallon staggering back into the centre of the ring- Grandma looks for the Bingo Hall Buster!! NO!! Fallon escapes and nails Grandma with a Neckbreaker! Grandma goes down and Fallon leaps onto the ropes… Contradanza! NO! Grandma moves at the last moment and Fallon crashes to the mat, one of her legs buckling underneath her. As the newcomer grabs onto her limb in pain, Grandma seizes her opportunity and clamps on a Figure-Four Leglock! Fallon taps out! TUCK: “Here is your winner-GRANDMA!!!” [“My Way” blares out as a victorious Grandma has her hand raised by referee Gary Willis. Leaving Fallon lying squirming in pain on the canvas, Grandma coolly scrapes up her walking stick and totters up the ramp backstage.]
[Backstage, just before his match with Clint Hill, Rabbi Bernie Dobba is having a brief interview with Gavin Jones...] GAV: "Good evening Mr Dobba! So glad you could take the time to speak to us!" RBD: "Not at all my child! Many blessings upon you! And it's RABBI Dobba!" GAV: "Of course, Rabbi! Forgive me!" [Rabbi Dobba blesses Gav in correct fashion of a Rabbi of the Church of Righteous Justice. First he slaps Gav over the back of the head, then he kisses his nose followed by the ritualistic stomping of the feet. The Rabbi then utters some gibberish before continuing with the interview. Gav, almost crying from his feet being stomped on, speaks...] GAV: "What was that?!" RBD: "A blessing, my child! You have been blessed!" GAV: "Err... yeah... so what about your match with Clint Hill tonight. Any thoughts?" RBD: "Oh yes indeed ... as the book of Maccabee said ... as the flea is like unto an oxen, so is the privet hedge liken unto a botanist black in thy sight, O Lord!" GAV: "And what does that mean?" RBD: "Erm... it means... oh dear..." [Gav shakes his head and signals the camera crew to walk with him as the Rabbi is left pondering what he has just said.] RBD: "I have it! Wait a minute, my child! I have the answer!" [The Rabbi futilily calls after Gav, but Gav has gone.]
[A tired but jubilant Kid Punk is walking through the arena staging area, taking sips from a bottle of water. His newly won Hardcore Title is being carried over his arm. Kid Punk is whistling “Celebrations” as he enters a thin corridor and walks down it. The Hardcore Champion turns a corner and walks straight into somebody, knocking himself back and tipping some of his water over himself. Kid Punk angrily begins to yell at the other guy.] PUNK: “YOU IDIOT! Why don’t you just watch where you’re going you big moron!” [The camera moves outwards and upwards to reveal the man Kid Punk bumped into- the Intercontinental Champion Hans Grip! Much to Punk’s annoyance, the big Swede lets out a tremor-causing rumble of laughter.] HANS: “… Hahahaha, I am sorry little man, perhaps I did not see you all the way down there, yes? If I had not been more careful maybe I would have squished you like a little bug!” [An angry Kid Punk snarls upwards at the other man.] PUNK: “Hey pal, who you calling little, huh? This is the Hardcore Champion you’re talking to, buddy!” HANS: “Yah, and this is the INTERCONTINENTAL Champion that YOU are talking to. Just watch yourself, my little American buddy- if we would have to settle this in the ring I am thinking you might come up just a little “short”- AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” [A big toothy grin on his face, the Intercontinental Champion walks off laughing down the corridor, leaving a fuming Kid Punk to hurl his water against the corridor wall in anger.]
Rabbi Dobba vs Clint Hill ["Beautiful Creatures" hits, acquiring a medium pop from the fans.] MOSHER: "I say! Clint Hill sounds popular!" MEXICAN: "These fools don't know a truly great man when they see one! This is all the ovation he gets?!" TUCK: "First, weighing 300lbs, CLIIINT HIIILL!" [There is increased cheering and whistling as Hill enters the arena. He strides down the ramp, ignoring the fans yelling at him from either side. He rolls under the ropes and wanders over to his corner.] MEXICAN: "My money's on him! After that cheap victory by Stone Cold, I don't think Hill will be too forgiving to anyone! He's gonna eat up the Rabbi faster than a taco!" MOSHER: "Why are you always talking about tacos? You're obsessed, Mexican!" MEXICAN: "HEY! DON'T EVER MOCK MY TACOS!!" TUCK: "Next, his opponent; RABBI BERNIE DOBBA!" ["Pretty Fly For A Rabbi" fills the air. This gets another moderate pop from the fans, obviously appreciative of Dobba's easy going lifestyle. The Rabbi himself struts down the ramp, waving to the fans. Clint Hill just scowls at him.] MEXICAN: "Look at the size of him! How can that little taco hope to stand up to the might of the quarter pounder that is Clint Hill?!" MOSHER: "You're doing it again! You're still talking about tacos!" [The Rabbi and Hill stand face to face as the ref rattles off a few last minute orders. They both nod, neither breaking eye contact. The ref waves for the bell.] MEXICAN: "GO ON HILL!" MOSHER: "This should be a smashing affair, either way!" [Hill lunges at Dobba, but the Rabbi dodges aside, nailing a boot in the gut. Hill is winded, allowing Dobba to hit a Jawbreaker.] MOSHER: "Nice move by Dobba!" [The Rabbi applies an Armlock. Hill struggles, managing to twist the move into a Chickenwing Headlock. Dobba squirms in pain. The referee checks on him, looking for a submission. Dobba refuses to tap out. Clint Hill starts to get annoyed. He throws the Rabbi down to the mat.] MEXICAN: "Whoah! He tossed Dobba like a taco!" MOSHER: "The strength advantage certainly goes to Hill in this matchup." [Hill attacks Dobba with a Brainbuster, then floats over for a pin: One. Two. Kickout!] MOSHER: "He barely got the shoulder up, there!" [Hill continues his attack, nailing a Headlock Takedown, then applying a Surfboard Stretch. Again, the ref checks on Dobba, watching out for any sign of tapping.] MOSHER: "Clint Hill seems to be favouring a fantastic submissionist style in this match!" MEXICAN: "He's just trying to take out his anger on Dobba! He doesn't care if he taps, Hill just wants to make him hurt!" [Again, Dobba will not tap out. Hill breaks his hold. He stomps the Rabbi, then pulls him up and whips him. Hill hits a Belly-to-belly Suplex on the return.] MEXICAN: "Ooh! That was some impact! The Rabbi can't hold on much longer!" MOSHER: "Yes, things do look bad for him right now!" [Hill stomps Dobba, as he struggles to stand up. He whips the Rabbi into the corner, then follows him. Hill lifts him up and sits him on the ringpost.] MOSHER: "What a high risk move!" MEXICAN: "Hill is gonna Superplex Dobba!" [Hill climbs up the ropes and hooks Dobba's arm over his head. Before he can lift the Rabbi, however, Dobba jabs Hill in the ribs. This stuns him, for a moment, allowing Dobba to gain the advantage. He keeps a firm hold on Hill's head and leaps off the turnbuckle, hitting a Super-Tornado DDT.] MOSHER: "What a smashing move by the Rabbi!" MEXICAN: "Oh no! Clint!" [Both men lie upon the canvas, perfectly still. The ref has no choice but to start a count. One. Two...] MEXICAN: "Hill! Hill! Hill!" MOSHER: "This is a really exciting match!" [Five. Six. Seven. They start to stir. Eight. Both men begin to stand, dragging themselves up the ropes. Dobba gets up first. He staggers over to Hill and clocks him in the face. Hill, however, responds the same way, causing Dobba to reel all the way back across the ring.] MEXICAN: "Hah! There's no way Dobba can go toe-to-toe with Hill! He's far too weak!" [Nonetheless, Dobba once again approaches Hill. Hill, looking very angry at this point, swings at his adversary. Dobba uses his superior speed, ducking under the blow and nailing Hill with a series of his own right hands. This time, Hill is staggered. Dobba bounces off the ropes and nails a Clothesline. This forces Hill back a few more steps, but is insufficient to take him down. Dobba tries again, but Hill counters. He grabs the smaller man firmly by the throat.] MEXICAN: "When Hill hits that Chokeslam, it's all over!" [However, as Hill crouches to lift Dobba into the air, the small Rabbi boots him in the face. Hill stumbles back, but bounces off the ropes and staggers towards Dobba. The Rabbi wastes no time, nailing a kick in the gut, then connecting with his "Sword Of Dobba".] MEXICAN: "NO! Where did that come from!" MOSHER: "Wow! It looks like Dobba did it!" [Dobba floats over and pins: One. Two. Three! Easy pin!] MEXICAN: "I can tell you, Clint Hill will be sorely pissed when he wakes up! He's had two victories stolen!" ["Pretty Fly For A Rabbi" returns to the PA. Dobba stands in the ring, his hand raised by the referee, offering his blessing to the crowd. He turns to his felled opponent and blesses him too, then proceeds up the ramp, out of the arena.]
[We return backstage, where Andrew McMartyn is angrily ordering some workers around the staging area. As the CWF Co-Owner points and rants, ‘DSP’ Pete Nancollis appears on-screen next to him. Andrew spins around in surprise at Pete’s sudden arrival. The CWF Head Trainer confronts McMartyn Jr aggressively, eyes stern and resentful.] ANDREW: “What are YOU doing just creeping up like that? Do you have some sort of prob-“ PETE: “You’re damn right I have a problem, you Andrew! Let me just get something straight wit-“ [Now it is Andrew’s turn to show a nasty temper.] ANDREW: “What the Hell? No, let ME just get something straight- NOBODY just walks up to Andrew McMartyn, the future owner of this federation and starts running off his mouth. Now what th-“ [Another unfinished sentence, as Pete throws his hand in front of Andrew’s face angrily.] PETE: “Is it actually possible for you to SHUT UP for more than 30 seconds? Your problem, Mr Co-Owner, is that you think the sun shines out of your own &*%! A McMartyn you may be, that may mean all us staff have to tolerate you, but it doesn’t mean we have to respect you and it DAMN sure doesn’t mean we have to like you! No, let me just suggest this to you, you stick to wrestling, or owning, or whatever the Hell it is you do around here. Do that, and keep well away from the good and decent people who are just trying to earn a living around here! And one more thing, if I EVER see you near Ruth or any of the other staff around here, I will make you more sorry than you’ve ever been in your nasty little life- GOT IT?” [Pete’s shoulders slump from the exertion of his outburst. Andrew McMartyn gawps open-mouthed at this eruption from the usually reserved and quietly spoken Pete. ‘DSP’ regards the Co-Owner with one last withering look then turns and walks away. Andrew shakes his head and talks to himself.] ANDREW: “Well, well, well.” [Slowly and methodically, Andrew crouches down to the floor and picks up a large metal pipe that is lying on the ground, apparently some part of staging equipment. Briskly, the young McMartyn walks after Pete, and with a loud grunt swings the metal rod, smashing the Head Trainer in the back of the skull and sending him crashing to the floor. A huge booing is heard from the watching fans in the arena as Andrew sadistically allows the pipe to clatter to the ground, his victim lying at his feet with blood pouring from the back of his head. A group of shocked CWF staff rush over and start attending to the unconscious and bloody ‘DSP’, while Andrew McMartyn turns away, a wicked smile on his face.] ANDREW: “Well Pete, looks like you piped down after all… hehehahahahehaheahehahahaha!” [Andrew swaggers arrogantly off, his evil cackling laughter ringing through the backstage halls. On the cold concrete floor, DSP Pete Nancollis lies face down in an ever increasingly red pool, the blood gushing from his skull as horrified officials urgently call for an ambulance.]
’THE HUCKSTER’ BOB JONES V.S. TYRANT TUCK: "The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Newport, Wales, weighing in at 250 pounds, ‘THE HUCKSTER!" [The former champion is warmly welcomed into the area as "Real American" hits the PA.] TUCK: "And his opponent…from Death Valley, weighing in at 265 pounds, …TYRANT!!!" [Tyrant gets an enthusiastic boo as he charges down to the ring to the sound of Incubus' "Pardon" and slides in under the bottom rope. ] [The two men lock up, with Tyrant countering a Jones rear grapple with one of his own. Tyrant pulls the arm of his opponent into an armbar twist but Jones powers out of the hold to the cheers of the fans. The men lock up again and test each other’s strength, Tyrant takes the early advantage but The Huckster easily powers back with his well-developed bicep muscles, driving his opponent onto one knee. Quickly, Jones slips round the opponent into another rear grapple and flips him over into a victory roll. The referee leaps down to count, but his opponent powers out at one. Jones charges him and hits a running inside cradle, but again Tyrant kicks out. Jones charges again and goes for a Clothesline, which Tyrant ducks, then goes for one of his own, this time Bob Jones ducks and hits a big Back Suplex!] MEXICAN: Phew! I’m getting tired just watching this! [Jones clotheslines Tyrant and drops a slow elbow. He whips the other man into the turnbuckle and climbs up for the ten count. Jones goes past ten and continues punching away, forcing the official to yank him down! Tyrant blasts him with a forearm from behind and hits a powerslam. He locks a chinlock onto Jones but he won’t give in to the submission hold! Tyrant breaks the hold and angrily questions the official, then gets rolled up into a schoolboy by Jones. The ref counts two but still Tyrant is able to kick out. The two men trade punches with one another, and Jones takes control, and hitting a suplex on his opponent. As Tyrant staggers up Jones kicks him in the stomach and hits a big Stalling Suplex!] MOSHER: "Neither of these men have any regard for each other’s bodies!!" [Tyrant slams into the canvas and Jones covers.] 1… 2… [NO! Kickout! The challenger gets a shoulder up, and The Huckster isn’t too happy about it! Tyrant fights make with right hands, and gains the upper hand, throwing Jones out through the ropes, who accidently takes the referee with him!. As the official lies motionless on the arena floor, Tyrant exits the squared circle, and proceeds to beat The Huckster right around the perimeter of the ring, finally rolling a confused and bruised CWF veteran back inside. Jones clambers up and receives a Stalling Brainbuster from his opponent. ] MEXICAN: “Aye aye aye aye aye! Look who it is, essa! One of my favourite people!” [Sure enough, out onto the entrance ramp saunters Andrew McMartyn, the individual facing The Huckster for the No. 1 Contendership to the CWF Title on Thursday Night Redemption. A contemplative Andrew looks on as Tyrant signals for the end as his opponent struggles to his feet-Tyrant hits the LAST RIGHTS!- NO!! The Huckster deftly dodges and catches hold of his foe’s arm, spinning him around. The Huckster hits the three big punches and sends his victim to the ropes- BIG BOOT! LEGDROP!] MOSHER: “This is academic!” MEXICAN: “This is a farce!” 1… 2… 3! TUCK: "The winner of this match by a pin fall… BOB JONES!!!" [“Real American” booms through the arena as referee Sid Jefferies raises Bob Jones’ hand. The fans are treated to another bout of lengthy victory taunts from the senior roster member as he poses and prances his way around the ring in triumph. From the top of the entrance ramp, Andrew McMartyn quietly watches with thinly veiled comtempt before turning and swaggering backstage, a confident smirk on his face.]
[In Acid's V.I.P. Locker Room, Acid is sitting on the couch drinking a bottle of water and watching the television. Kyle Reece is doing some stretches and psyching hismelf up for his Championship match. Acid is amused by his grunts and sighs and inadvertently laughs out loud.] REECE: "What's so funny?" ACID: "Sorry! Just that Dan never really did any of that stuff when he was getting ready for a match. Usually he'd just sit and brood for a while, and then brood some more." REECE: "No wonder he lost so many matches..." ACID: "Hey! I didn't mean to start off a 'let's-slag-off-Dan-behind-his-back thing' here! Dan may not have come out on top during his title matches, but at least he gave it his best!" REECE: "Defending him now, are we? You seemed a little pissed off at him earlier." ACID: "Technically, Dan is still my business partner..." REECE: Well, you're business partner had me in the emregency room at Redemption, remember? He attacked me with a sledgehammer!" ACID: "I never said Dan was stable though..." REECE: "Well then, all the more reason to terminate your partnership all together." ACID: "Huh?" REECE: "When I win the CWF Championship tonight, you ain't gonna need Mr Jones no more coz you'll have the best damn CWF Champion the company has ever seen as your associate! That should piss off the McMartyns plenty!" [Acid smiles.] ACID: "I guess you've got a point there..." REECE: "Finish your dealings with Dan and let me be your partner. That guy is a chump-loser anyway. He never gets anything right. No wonder Phil Leach is always kicking his ass!" ACID: That's enought Reece! I'm not going to spilt on Dan! I owe him a lot! He's really helped me out over the past few weeks. If it hadn't been for him, maybe I wouldn't still BE the CWF Vice President. Just back off him OK? I'm not giving up on Dan just yet. We may have had our differences, but I still think he has the potential to go all the way in the business... as well as you, of course." Reece: "Hmm..." [The image fades to black as the camera crew cuts to commercial.]
[In front of the Tuesday Night Turbulence interview set, an excitable Gavin Jones stands smiling idiotically, the microphone he is clutching waving frantically under the chin of the CWF Champion, Phil ‘The Man’ Leach. An arena busting cheer is heard echoing through the building at the sight of ‘The Gentleman Pimp’ Phil smiles as he hears the amazing ovation, and gestures to the quivering Gav to begin his questioning.] GAV: “Ladies and gentleman, I’m standing here with none other than the CWF Champion, Phil ‘The Man’ Leach!!! Folks, this is brilliant! Fantastic! Amazing! Spectacular! Stupendous! Fabulous! Incredible! Super! Unbelie-“ [The CWF interviewer is practically foaming at the mouth when ‘The Man’ halts him with a gentle hand on the shoulder. Phil guides the microphone to his mouth and winks at the camera.] PHIL: “Gav mate, you forgot one thing. This, this is Cosmic! Heheh, yeah, here we are again folks, another week, another show, another opponent hoping to take this belt away from me. Now, being ‘The Gentleman Pimp’ I’ve had quite a lot of experience of people trying to remove my belt and I tell you, if I want it off, that belt flies off! But this, this is the CWF Championship. This is a different kettle of fish, kids. No-one, no-one will take THIS belt from me. That card carrying Michael Jackson fan Damian Ali couldn’t do it, that whiny little brat Andrew McMartyn couldn’t do it, and hell, even the daft old bastard who runs this company couldn’t do it! SO I ask you Gav, what makes Kyle Reece think that tonight, on this night, HE can do it?” [The camera pans back to Gav Jones, who still has a fixed and idiotic smile on his face. He looks around nervously at actually being asked to answer a question.] GAV: “Uhh… erm … I’d say he has a fantastic chance because one of the owners will be in his corner?” PHIL: “Ah yeah, Acid, that crazy chick. Now Gav, I like Kyle Reece, I think he’s an OK sort of guy, so you know what? I’m going give him a little “Gentleman Pimp” love advice. You see Kyle, I’ve found a little bit of verse that suits your predicament just right. It goes a little something like this…” [The CWF Champion clears his throat and begins to sing!]
“She’s into superstition, [The crowd goes wild as Phil wiggles his hips and hums the rest of the tune a bit. Gav clicks his fingers and tries to dance a little too, but simply ends up looking foolish, and not in the endearing way that Phil does.] PHIL: “Oh yeah, Ricky Martin was damn right! Not only has he got the sense to lay on the lovin’ to a fine lady like Anna Kournikova, he KNOWS that girl is gonna make Kyle Reece fall. Kyle mate, get out of there while you still can- this chick is one freaky messed up female, and trust me- I KNOW about messed up females! All that leather and chains and shit, that’s more Dan’s forte I’m sure … you go find yourself a nice girl who doesn’t have black lips and a pierced you-know-what. You need to remember that my friend, but you need to remember one other vital thing. When that last bell rings- I’m not talking about the ring bell, I’m talking about last orders, when that last bell rings, you can be sure of three things. Number One, the vodka will be going down like water. Number Two, ALL the girls will look attractive. And Number Three, The Gentleman Pimp, The People’s Pimp, The Man, Phil Leach will STILL be CWF Champion! Awight Tweacle!!!!!” [His charismatic speech reached its apex, Phil Leach pushes past Gav Jones and grooves his way towards the ring- the CWF Championship is on the line, next!]
CWF CHAMPIONSHIP MOSHER: "Well, we've seen some great matches tonight and we've crowned a new Hardcore Champion. Could we be crowining a new CWF Champion tonight also?" MEXICAN: "I doubt it essa! I don't like Phil Leach much, but I dislike Kyle Reece even more. He only in this match coz that little hussy Acid gave him it on a silver platter!" MOSHER: "Be that as it may, Mexican, I'm sure Acid thought Kyle Reece fitting to be in this match regardless to any personal feeling... Reece is one hell of a competitor." MEXICAN: "I still think it sucks..." TUCK: "It's time for the main event. This match is scheduled for one fall, and is for the CWF Championship! Introducing first, the challenger, from New York City... KYLE REECE!!!" ['Give me fuel! Give me fire! Give me that which I desire!' Red and orange pyrotechnics explode as Kyle Reece makes his way down the ramp, followed by the CWF VP, Acid. Reece climbs into the ring and sheds his coat and waits for his opponent. Acid makes her way around the ring and approaches the announce table. She pulls up a chair beside the Greasy Mexican and puts on a headset that one of the stage hands hands to her...] ACID: "Evening boys!" MOSHER: "Good evening, Acid! I ahd no idea that you were coming to join us out here tonight?" ACID: "Just here to give Reece alittle support, that's all." MEXICAN: "I'll bet..." ACID: "Bet all you want, Mexican- that guy in the ring right now WILL be the CWF Champion by the end of Turbulence... and don't think I missed that 'little hussy' crack you made a few seconds ago..." MEXICAN: "How did you...?" ACID: "I'm a woman... I know these things!" TUCK: "And introducing the CWF Champion... PHIL ‘THE MAN’ LEACH!!!" [‘It’s My Life’ blasts into the arena as the arena lights dip down into a deep purple colour. Phil Leach comes jiving out onto the entrance ramp, with a beautiful and scantily clad lady on each arm. He casually makes his way down the ramp where he leaves his girls at ringside as he climbs into the ring. Phil plays to the crowd before removing his feathered hat and gawdy glasses and handing them over.] MOSHER: "You gotta hand it to Leach. He certainly knows how to please the crowd." ACID: "I'm afraid I disagree with you there, Mosher. Phil Leach is the biggest underachiever I've ever known! He's just got a really good publisist, that's all." [DING! DING! DING!] [Kyle Reece and Phil Leach both stand in the center of the ring staring at each other while talking trash to each other. Leach turns away for a split second as Reece delivers a hard shot to the back of his head and Leach staggers onto the ropes. Reece pushes him against the ropes and whips him to the other side of the ring against the ropes and clotheslines Leach to the canvas. Reece runs against the rope and elbow drops Leach quickly into the heart. Reece covers Leach...] [..1..] [..KICKOUT!] MOSHER: "Way too early in the match after only a clothesline and an albow drop. Too early Reece." MEXICAN: "He ain't too bright, huh Acieeeed?" ACID: "He's only getting started, Greaseeeeeee!!!" [Reece picks Leach up by the head and knees him in the sternum area then Reece performs a powerslam in the center of the ring. Reece grabs one of Leach's legs and tries putting on the figure four leglock as Leach kicks Reece in the ass as he goes flying out of the ring and smashing hard into the announcers table.] MOSHER: "Watch out!" ACID: "Whoa!" [Leach gets up waiting for Reece to stand up outside.] ACID: "Come on, Ky... I mean Reece! Get up!" [When Reece finally does, Leach executes a baseball slide knocking Reece onto the announce table.] MOSHER: Nice move there by Phil Leach... almost knocked my head off though. Careful guys!" ACID: "Come on Reece! Get back in there!" [Leach slides under the bottom rope finding Reece on the announce table. Leach climbs on Reece's body and delivers some hard shots the the stomach and Reece's face.] [..1..] [..2..] [..3..] [..4..] [..5..] [..6..] [Leach looks at the referee as he gets off Reece and rolls him under the bottom rope and into the ring. Leach hooks the right leg of Reece...] [..1..] [..2..] [..REECE KICKS OUT!] MOSHER: "That was good pressure from the Gentleman Pimp! The crowd ios loving every minute of it! He has to keep that pressure on Reece and it might pay off later during the match." MEXICAN: "Si amigo! Nice bit of wrestling from Leach there. Especially that baseball slide. That had some velocity!" ACID: "Overrated. Purely overrated." [Leach whips Reece into the ropes and knocks him back down with a hard clothesline. Leach climbs to the second rope and stands there posing to the crowd and delivers a leg drop to the throat of Reece! Leach sits Reece up and sits behind him putting the sleeperhold on Reece putting him down to the mat again. The referee gets down quickly again asking Kyle if he wants to give up. Reece is resistant to say no and gets Leach's legs from around him He spins around and grabs Leach by the head delivering a hard suplex to the mat. Reece covers Leach hooking his left leg...]
[..1..]
MEXICAN: "You're telling me. Phil Leach barely kicked out there. Reece could have picked up the championship there!
ACID: "James! Are you frigging daft or something?! That was the slowest count I've ever seen!"
[Reece walks towards Leach and then darts towards him and spears him back down to the mat! Reece puts the sharpshooter submission move onto Leach. The referee once again gets down quickly into a good position seeing if Leach wants to tap out and give up. Leach slowly progresses towards the ropes, being egged on by the crowd, and eventually he grabs hold of the bottom one facing the announce table as the referee makes Reece break the hold. Reece whips Leach across to the ropes and goes to clothesline him but Leach kicks him in the mid-section delivers a destifying Tilt A Whirl Slam! Leach picks him up and then executes the Pimp Drop! Leach lays across Reece hooking both legs...]
[..1..]
[..2..]
[..3..]
TUCK: "Here is your winner, and still the CWF Champion...PHIL LEACH!!!"
MOSHER: "Well, there we have it. Phil Leach has won it. He beat Kyle Reece however, much you dont like it Acid, fair and square."
ACID: "Get Bent, Mosher!"
[Acid gets up from her seat, throws down her headset and walks up the ramp without Kyle Reece as Phil Leach celebrates in the ring to his theme music. Reece peers out from between the ropes at Acid. Acid turns back, gives Reece a sour look and then disappears out of the arena.]
MOSHER: "Oh dear..."
MEXICAN: "Deja vu amigo! Wasn't Acid like that with Dan Jones after he failed to win ANY title belts?"
MOSHER: "I believe so!"
[Reece's face drops momentarily, then suddenly turns into an angry scowl. He gets to his feet and as Phil Leach is celebrating with his ladies, Reece attempts to clothesline Leach from behind, but Leach ducks and then performs the Flying Iron Swede on Kyle Reece, much to the approval of the crowd! It’s My Life’ starts up again as Phil Leach taunts Reece some more before leaving the ring with his belt as Turbulence goes off the air...]
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