[The WWA Tron is blank. And then, it isn’t anymore.]

http://joey.tesauro.youaremighty.com/

[Assuming you clicked on the above link, you are treated to an elaborate and mind bogglingly effective Flash video.]

[If you didn’t, then you’re reading this, and have no idea what is going on.]

[So watch the thing.]

[Jerk.]

[The Video ends. And the crowd goes nuts.]

[Because on the Stage, we see Joey Tesauro. Cargo pants, Islanders Jersey, ( He knows they suck, but they’re his team, you don’t need to keep reminding him) and a bit of a smirk. The Freelance Detective, businessman, and former Cruiserweight Champion is in the house.]

[Standing next to him, the one getting most of the female audience’s cheer. It’s the Penguin. He’s got a Guinness in one hand like Joey, his Penguin smirk, and nothing else.]

[Popular bird.]

[Joey check the mic he has on, grins, and then speaks.]

Joey: The Stars at night, so big and bright!!

Nearly the entire Audience: DEEP IN THE HEART....OF TEXAS!!!

Joey: Heh, always wanted to try that.

Penguin: You’re a dork.

Joey: Yes sir. What’s with the Guinness, I thought you had a contract with Bud Ice?

Penguin: I’m not a monogamous bird, you know that.

Joey: Don’t I ever. But you know what I say about American beer anyway.

Penguin: That it’s like having sex in a canoe?

Joey: Yeah, it’s fucking close to water. Shall we get to business?

Penguin: We better. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I get acquainted with the locals.

Joey: Then without further to do...on behalf of DLK Enterprises and Raynefall Productions, ladies and gentlemen...

[Glare from Penguin]

Joey: And all mammals everywhere both aquatic and terrestrial, I give you, SHOCKWAVE...

[Pause and a grin]

Joey: THE MUSICAL!

[Fade in.]

[Shockwave.]

[The Elimination Chamber.]

[The World Heavyweight Title is on the line.]

[All six men are standing inside a foam replica of the chamber. Inside, “Thomas Bane” and “Daemon Curtis” are preparing to lock horns. Suddenly, the orchestra strikes a chord and Bane grabs Curtis’ hand to try and dance.]

Curtis: Bitch, you better get the fuck off me!

[The music fires up and here we go as all six men begin to sing.]

All: SHOCKWAVE!

[Pause.]

All: SHOCKWAVE!

[Pause.]

All: SHOCK-WAAAAAAAAAAAAAVE!!!

[Cut to Lee Riel.]

Riel: Tonight … is the night, that … all here will see, there’s … nobody here … more extremer than me!

Bane: Tonight is the night I’ll be kickin’ some ass, someone in this ring will have tonight as their last!

Light: I am the champion and all will bow down, I’ll break all their necks; won’t be stealin’ my crown!

Curtis: All these motherfuckers here are gonna die by my hand, I’ll kill ass you bitches and go play in the sand!

[He yells out “I’m going to Disney World, motherfucker!”]

Smith: From Wizard to Spotlight, they know I’m a joke, I just pray to GOD I don’t get my neck broke!

Inferno: …

Curtis: DIE MOTHERFUCKER!

[Curtis runs over to the chamber, whips out a switchblade and pops the blow up doll.]

Light: One man is down and the rest will soon see, that the champion will defend his title easily!

Bane: That brother just shanked that douchebag over there, I think I’ll go over and pull up his UNDERWEAR!!!!

[Bane strolls over, but gets stabbed to death by Curtis.]

Curtis: NICE TRY, MOTHERFUCKER!!!

[A chamber opens, and out runs Riel.]

Riel: Let’s … lock horns and fight … to … see who is the best!

Curtis: Fuck that shit, homie - eat steel in your chest!

[Curtis stabs Riel, he drops to the mat bleeding.]

Curtis: ANOTHER BITCH DEAD AND NO ONE ELSE CAN SEE, YOU CAN’T KILL A BROTHER AS MEAN A MOTHERFUCKER AS ME!

[The next chamber opens, and Smith trembles out into the ring.]

Smith: Jesus, I think I’m so dead …

Curtis: I’ll fuck you in the ass, then play kickball with your head!

[Smith and Curtis wrestle over the knife.]

Smith: Please, give it up sir, I don’t want to die!

Curtis: Motherfucker, you might like it! You’ll never know ‘til you try!

[Then continue to try and overpower the other, as the last chamber opens.]

Light: Time to show you two what this is all about!

[He charges both.]

Curtis: That motherfucker has Chlamydia, herpes and gout!

Smith: What’s worse? To die or to live with such pain? I think I’ll do it right, this way there’s no shame!

[He pulls the knife out of Curtis’ hands and stabs himself in the head.]

Light: Time’s up, Curtis, it’s just you and me!

Curtis: Get away from me, bitch – I don’t want burning when I pee!

Light: Burning when you pee, what do you possibly mean? I’ve never touched a woman, I’m a virgin, completely clean!

Curtis: Never touched a woman, and a virgin, it’s true!. But not a virgin anally, sucks to be you!

Curtis: Motherfucker!

[Light picks up with knife and chases Curtis, finally stabbing him in the back.]

Light: Finally, it’s over – I am still the champion. I did what I said and now Shockwave IS DONE!

[The five men get up, and all sing together.]

All: SHOCKWAVE IS OVER AND HOORAY FOR THE CHAMP!

Smith: Ow, I think I gave myself a friggin’ cramp.

Inferno: …

Curtis: That bitch is still alive? DIE MOTHERFUCKER!!!

[The Tron fades out, and we go back to Joey and Penguin on the stage. Both grinning and happy with their beer]

Joey: Brilliant! A smashing good show.

Penguin: I might possibly wet myself, you know.

[Enter Christian Light’s very hot, and very angry girlfriend, carrying one of Joey’s swords.]

[Which is as hot as it is terrifying.]

Max: Joey, Penguin, some words we must have. By the time I am done, you will be cut in half!

Joey: Penguin, we’ve been caught, our game is up.

Penguin: Stop rhyming and run bitch!!!

[Joey and Penguin take off, sadly losing their Guinness in the process, Max following hot on their heels.]

[Rayne Fall Productions.]

[In association with WfWA Films.]

[Present:]

[Shockwave! The Musical.]

[Starring:]

[Seann William Scott as “The Spotlight” Bryan Smith.]

[William Shatner as Lee Riel.]

[Samuel L. Jackson as Daemon Curtis.]

[A blow up doll as Inferno.]

[Fred Savage as Christian Light.]

[And Jack Black as Thomas Bane.]

[Presented by DLK Enterprises.]

[Cue the pyro.]

[Thunderous explosions rip through the arena and drown out the massive cheering and jeering from the sold out show in Houston, Texas as “Shock” by Fear Factory begins pummelling the speakers. The WWA Tron sparks to life again, flashing images of the superstars of the WWA with the beat of the music.]

Clouds: Good evening, folks, and welcome to Shockwave 2007!

Merchant: We are coming to you live from Houston, Texas, deep in the heart of Outlaw Championship Wrestling!

Clouds: Boy, it certainly feels good to be home for the big show.

Merchant: It sure does, Mike. Hey, what do you think about that musical that Joey Tesauro’s making?

Clouds: Looks pretty ridiculous to me.

Merchant: You mean ridiculously brilliant! That’s high quality entertainment there! Shatner as Lee Riel? Seann William Scott as Bryan Smith? You can’t get better casting then that!

Clouds: At any rate, we have an action-packed card here for you all tonight!

Merchant: We sure do! Opening the card we have two of the top people in the AWA squaring off in what’s sure to be an explosive opener.

Clouds: Twisted against Blade. It doesn’t get much better then that to kick things off, Tim.

Merchant: It sure doesn’t. Then we have overseas rivals Jake Devins and Travis Zahn battling out for their respective regions, with Devins representing the Emerald Isle of the Wrestling Republic and Zahn with the home field advantage representing OCW.

Clouds: It’ll be a close one for sure. We also have a six-man elimination match, featuring Team WR versus Team OLW, our newest region and one I think we've all been excited to see. It'll be our first look at them, Tim.

Merchant: Yeah, and some greeting party. They'll be up against Deserati, Paige and Egerton. That's a tough team. I'm not sure about the new guys but they'll have to be on point to stand a chance there.

Clouds: Well, Tim, Team OLW is very strong. Cole Christenson is the complete package, an extremely talented individual. Python is a helluva cruiserweight and Wyatt Connors won the NWC World's Title, once upon a time.

[The camera finds the front row and OLW's newest signee. He's even wearing an OLW baseball cap.]

Merchant: Yeah, plus I'll bet ya five bucks THIS guy gets involved.

Clouds: [groan] Yes, fans, don't adjust your television sets. Twice NWA World champ Byron Tanis is in attendance.

[The Nighthawk leans forward in his seat. He gives the camera a thumbs up.]

Merchant: Those are pretty good seats, think he paid for them? [pause] And check out his daughter next to him. Good God, she's unbelievable.

Clouds: That's his wife.

Merchant: Oh.

Clouds: Real classy, Tim.

Merchant: One does what one can.

Clouds: Moving on! After the Six-Man we have Jordon vs. the former World Champion Ryan Blasier.

Merchant: I can’t tell you what exactly is going to happen in this one, Mike. There seems to be a lot of bad blood between the two, and a lot of it seems to revolve around Lemual’s younger brother, Toussaint.

Clouds: I don’t know what to make of it either, Tim, but I’m betting we’ll get a lot of answers after tonight.

Merchant: Then we have a literal clash of the titans in the pairing off of Victor Mandrake and John Henry! The epitome of Good vs. Evil!

Clouds: I don’t know about that one. Last I heard, Mandrake changed his ways and is now allied with Christian Light, the person who he brutally assaulted on Summer Games earlier in the year.

Merchant: I don’t believe that for a second, Mike. Mandrake’s rotten to the core. There’s no way he’d sell out like that!

Clouds: Good or evil, it should be a stellar match nonetheless. Then, in what’s going to be the first of two title matches for the night, World Tag Team Champions C.J. Rowell and Michael Lennox defend their belts against the decorated team of Terry Norris and Bobby Blood, otherwise known as The Texas Outlaws!

Merchant: This should be a great match unless Sean Jackson gets involved, in which case, it’ll be a spectacular match!

Clouds: You actually like Jackson?

Merchant: Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I?

Clouds: Because he’s a generally loathsome and despicable individual?

Merchant: It’s kinda hard to convince me not to like him when you rattle off his best characteristics.

Clouds: Right…

Merchant: Then it’s Main Event time, folks! An Elimination Chamber match for the WWA World Heavyweight Title! Light is stuck defending his title against Lee Riel, Daemon Curtis, Inferno, Thomas Bane, and Bryan Smith inside a huge steel dome. This is all sorts of bad for Christian Light.

Clouds: Not necessarily, Tim. If Light plays his cards right and gets selected last to enter the ring, he could let his opponents pick each other off, leaving the last man standing exhausted and easy prey for the World Champion.

Merchant: Time will tell, Mike. For now, let’s see what kinds of shenanigans are happening backstage!

[Backstage]

[We join Joey Tesauro, former WWA Cruiserweight Champion, standing in one of the guest locker rooms. With him are the usual members of his entourage, Z, Scott, and Penguin. ]

Scott: Where’s Brian?

Joey: He couldn’t make it.

Penguin: But it’s Shockwave, on guy’s night out no less.

Joey: I know what fucking night it is! Somehow I don’t think Marissa cared.

[Suddenly, Scott has a knife in his hand, of the switch variety ]

Scott: I think we should fucking kill him.

Z: Look, we’re not going to kill him.

Scott: Oh c’mon, just kill him. It’ll be mercy, he’s whipped as hell.

Joey: No, alright? Jesus. We’re not going to kill the guy.

Scott: Fuck you. We never do what I want to do.

Joey: Listen. If you wanted to go to Dairy Queen or something, fine, let’s go. But no. You always want to fucking kill people, or blow shit up. You never just want a blizzard.

Penguin: Nice of the WWA to give you this locker room though at least.

Joey: Yeah seriously, I’m not even here for a match, just that thing later.

Scott: So what the fuck are we going to do for the time being?

[Five minutes later, we see the guys have hooked up an Xbox 360 and are now playing Gears of War online.]

[Billy Deserati, who happens to be without his Xbox360 happens to walk by Joey and co playing Gears of War. Billy, is by all means a huuuuuuuge mark of the game.]

Billy: Sweet mother of mercy... Carmen didn't let me bring my 360... You guys got the whole setup going.. Is it online?

[Joey and the guys don’t know who the fuck this kid is. But they’re all gamers, so he’s welcome, and Joey pulls down his headset with one hand while waving him in with his controller hand ]

Joey: Yeah man, come on in.

Billy: Fuck yeah, you *cannot* find decent gamers here in the Alliance. Billy Deserati.

[Billy enters and up-nods]

Joey: Joey Tesauro. That’s Z and Scott, and the short one is Penguin.

[Penguin, holding a bottle of Captain Morgan’s in both flippers, looks up and smiles ]

Penguin: Welcome.

Billy: Joey....T-esauro?

[Billy looks at Penguin... Of course it doesn't register the first glance that it is a penguin, talking...]

Billy: Pe..nguin?

[Billy turns his head sideways.]

Billy: Doo-be...Doo-be-doo.

Penguin: My reputation precedes me.

Joey: Yeah, it usually does.

Z: Which is why most hotels seem to hide their maids when we show up.

Billy: Haha, we don't get many hotels, I'm representing Wrestling Republic.

[Pause.]

Billy: Err... Not Irish though. I work for James Keiler... You know, that old guy that used to be in that one tag team.. SNS or something.

Joey: I remember that guy from the NGWA. Cool man. Hey, someone get this guy a controller!

Z: We’re all out.

Joey: Seriously?

Z: Yeah man, only one left is Penguin’s.

[Joey’s eyes widen in a way which leaves Billy to think that controller isn’t an option ]

Joey: Ok, c’mon Billy, we’ll make a quick Gamestop run, and be back in time to get a quick Deathmatch in before the rest of Shockwave. TO THE TWAT VAN!

Billy: You guys have a TWAT Van?

Joey: Yup. Used to be a beat up Swat Van that Scott repainted with an S instead of a T. Now it's an Escalade, but we kept the name.

Billy: Word...TO THE TWAT VAN!

[Enter Brian Fisher. Pre-recorded and off-set.]

[The quality of light—stretched and metallic, like the color of a migraine. That’s how Gaiman would describe it.]

[It doesn’t feel much different, but that’s what it looks like, too. Eyes would open, crusted from hours of nothingness, and wherever I’m at looked so much better when my eyes were closed. Every day it was like that. Lather, rinse, repeat.]

[No matter what I was doing—no matter how much I drank or snorted or how many whores I fucked—nothing changed. Calls came in, jobs were offered. They were promptly ignored. Why would you put yourself through such agony, such emotional and physical pain, vow to end it all and go back to the place that caused it to begin with? Why would anyone do that? Would you? Would I? Judging from the all-around grayness, well, maybe the reason the light was so gray to begin with was because the sun had finally set.]

-

[The decision didn’t come easy.]

[Like I said, people called and offered. It’s not like I wasn’t aware that I was wanted. But for some reason, instead of telling them that they weren’t wanted, I did what anyone else would do—I lied and said maybe. But they kept at it. They were persistent as persistent could be, and I kept lying as well as I could. Eventually, though, the calls stopped altogether and I was able to try and enjoy the still, gray nothingness.]

[At some point, some point not too long ago, the cobwebs cleared away, only momentarily, but cleared away nonetheless. I was able to see again, to focus. There was no gray. At that moment, I realized that if I wanted to do this again, I would need some help. There were forces in this business that no one man can go up against by himself. In this moment of clarity, which I knew wouldn’t last long (a day or two, maybe a week), I began to gather the troops.]

[Exiting his charcoal grey Saab 9-3 Sport Saloon, Lemual Jordon arrives at the Compaq Centre. ‘The Colt’ wears a pair of black tracksuit bottoms, white Nike sneakers and a blue & white Indianapolis Colts Quarter Zip Fleece Pullover.]

[Despite the determined look he wears Jordon pauses to sign a few autographs for young & old at the arena entrance; before heading inside. In the bowels of the arena Jordon twists and turns following printed signs to the locker room area, nodding to backstage hands and wrestlers alike, as he does so. After another bend in the underground corridors Jordon comes across his former lover, Grace Barrett.]

[The two eye each other as they approach, Barrett smiles coyly, seemingly she has a plan.]

Jordon – Still in one piece I see.

[Jordon chuckles. Barrett wearing a pair of denim jeans tucked into knee high brown high heeled boots and a black leather bomber jacket, shrugs.]

Barrett - So it seems. But maybe I got it all wrong.

Jordon – Yeah.

[Jordon is about to head off.]

Barrett – I just wondered if you liked my t-shirt.

[As Barrett unzips her jacket, revealed is a t-shirt, inscribed on the front of which are three words: Any Means Necessary.]

[Jordon looks annoyed, before turning his frown upside down.]

Jordon – Nice to see where your allegiance resides, freckles.

Barrett – Well the sooner this little delusion of grandeur, this grudge of yours is over the sooner I can go back to living a normal life and not looking over my shoulder every time I turn a street corner.

[Jordon nods, then shrugs.]

Jordon – You’ve picked some great role models to align with since you arrived in OCW, Grace. Amy Heartbreaker, Bryan Smith, Tanner Hill and now Ryan Blasier your track record is second to none.

[With a cocky grin Jordon is again about to leave the OCW Women’s Champion standing, but again that sweet Carolina accent halts him.]

Barrett – [scathing] You over estimate yourself.

Jordon – I do, huh? I don’t make any promises except that I’ll give everything I have in that ring tonight. And while I have oxygen in my lungs and enough blood still pumping around my body, Blasier will have a fight on his hands.

[Clapping sarcastically Barrett wears a smile of disdain.]

Barrett – You know I think I saw your brother earlier. He’s taller & slimmer than you but otherwise you’re almost the same?

[Lemual frowns.]

Jordon – You know exactly what Toussaint looks like, you’ve seen enough photos.

Barrett – Then I’m guessing it was him. Has a goofy afro hair cut these days, right? And in the photos his ass wasn’t quite so cute?

[Another coy smile follows a wink.]

Jordon – Where was he?

Barrett – Ohh… around…

[With that Barrett continues to stride off, her heel make a clap on the floor as she moves elegantly away.]

[Fade in, yo.]

[The camera fades into the scene of none other than Jake Devins, sitting back with his legs up in a metal fold out chair, already dressed down in his ring attire with a sleeveless "DEATH TO DESERATI" tee shirt covering is torso. His hands are resting on top of his head as he watches a monitor in front of him.]

[Suddenly the monitor shows the scene of him, sitting there.]

[He shakes his head, and turns slightly to face us.]

Jake - "I was wondering when you bastards were going to show up."

[He sighs.]

Jake - "Last minute thoughts on Travis Zahn? Well, as you can see I'm just sitting here, ready and raring to go. I'm not stretching out or pacing back and forth, because quite frankly a match with this man doesn't deserve that amount of energy."

[He flashed a cocky smirk.]

Jake - "Sounds a little cocky, I know. But hey, I always back it up now don't I?"

[No.. not all the time.]

Jake - "Anyways, Zahn likes to rely on luck. Me personally, I don't believe in it. But if Zahn needs luck to get him through a match then by all means, he can rub all the lucky rabbit’s feet he wants, but tonight, it unfortunately will not help."

[He shrugged with his shoulders.]

Jake - "After all, he's going into a match with Jack. F*cking. Devins. And lord knows that all the luck in the world can't save him from a bona fide Assassin ass beating."

[That's a lot of 'asses'. Heh.]

Jake - "But hey, maybe once I make it back to Eire I'll send you a four leaf clover Zahn."

[Thumbs up.]

Jake - "Good luck surviving out there, Zahn."

[A wink.]

[Fade out.]

[Sam "The Man" Horrey, clad in a black button down shirt, and black slacks is seen entering the arena via the garage entrance...]

Missy Lopez: Ladies and Gentlemen, Sam "The Man" Horrey from the AWA is here tonight at Shockwave 2007. I wasn't aware that you have a match on tonight's card Mr. Horrey.

Sam (smiling): That's because I don't.

Missy Lopez: So then, do you care to let us in on your appearance here tonight?

Sam: One would think that I'm here to harp on about what's happened as of late with me and Calib Wallace, or even me and Twisted. Both of whom by the way, are wrestling each other tonight. Rest assured, I'll deal with them, especially Twisted. There is tonight another matter, I need to address, and I've been given the platform to do it.

[Sam flashed another charming smile as he headed into the arena...]

[Thomas Bane pulls into the first of two consecutive open stalls in the employee parking lot area. He adjusts his puka shell necklace before removing his keys and exiting his car. Just as the door swings open, another car pulls into the adjacent stall. The high speed of the other vehicle causes Thomas to lean onto his car to avoid contact. He checks who the driver is.]

[Bryan Smith sits in the driver’s seat with black shades and a middle finger pointed in his direction. The sight brings out a sigh from Thomas.]

[The car door swings open and the OCW Texas Heritage Champion steps out.]

The Spotlight: "Watch out, Bane. You wouldn’t want to get run over before our match.”

[Smith flashes a smile.]

Thomas Bane: “Look, Bryan, whatever problem you have with me can wait until our match.”

The Spotlight: “Oh yeah? You ordering me around now?”

[Smith makes his way over to where Thomas is standing.]

The Spotlight: "Tonight’s the night that I will kick your ass along with those other goons in the match."

Thomas Bane: “I don’t doubt that, Bryan. You are the OCW champ, after all.”

[Smith couldn’t tell whether the comment was an insult or a compliment. He decides to take it as an insult, his face contorting into an angry grimace.]

The Spotlight: “Yes, I am the champ. The best there ever was and tonight you’re going to find that out. In reality, you can’t even compete against an elite superstar such as me so I wouldn’t bother showing up if I were you.”

Thomas Bane: “You aren’t me.”

The Spotlight: “I know! It’s a figure of speech, tough guy.”

Thomas Bane: “Yeah.”

[At this point Bryan Smith is down right flabbergasted.]

The Spotlight: “Whatever. You just watch your back tonight.”

[Bryan Smith shoves Thomas before storming off towards the arena. Thomas Bane shakes his head as he watches the man make his exit.]

Thomas Bane: “Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed again.”

Clouds: And here we go!

Merchant: I don't know who to put my money on in this one.

Clouds: I'm not sure either. Both are very evenly matched, have a title, hate the fans, and hate one another.

Merchant: Sound like my kinda guys.

[Both competitors circle one another, before bolting out of the ring, and attempt to each grab a ladder. The two each grab one, and bolt back to the ring. They set each one up, and both begin to climb to the top.]

Clouds: Both men are already up and this thing could be over in a minute!

[Calib and Twisted both begin to hammer one another with rights and lefts, until Twisted falls off the side, but lands on his feet. He charges to knock both over, but Calib jumps off, landing on his feet. The two just smirk and lock up in the center of the ring.]

Clouds: Both men now locking up after a failed ladder attempt.

Merchant: I didn't expect them to do that after something that close. I'm hoping somebody gets their skull bashed in.

Clouds: I won't put it past these two.

[Calib puts on a headlock, and is shot against the ropes by Twisted, who catches a shoulder block from Calib. Wallace now shoots off one side, and jumps over Twisted, who's now on his midsection. He catches Calib on the way back with a back elbow, then drops a fist, but misses and hits all canvas. Calib now back on his feet, tosses a boot at Twisted's head, but he ducks and trips out Calib's leg. Wallace nips up, and catches Twisted with a hard right to the jaw, then goes for a basement dropkick. Twisted moves, and kicks Calib right in the face while he's down. Twisted shoots off the ropes and comes in for a big elbow drop, but Calib pulls a ladder in the way, tripping Twisted. Twisted now rolls forward, and grabs the other ladder, as the two, run into each other with both connecting each ladder. They stay at a standstill, as they charge again, and then toss both ladders at one another. They meet in the middle, and both crash to the ground. Twisted spits in Calib's face, and Calib slaps him across his right back, as the two both attempt a dropkick, hitting one another at the same time.]

Clouds: What opening action from these two!

Merchant: I'm sure that was just baby play, as I'm gonna be pissed if we don't see somebody get hurt.

[Twisted now grabs a ladder, and bashes it over Calib's back before he can get up. He stumbles to the corner, as Twisted lays a ladder over his body. He comes off from the other side, and goes for a flying splash, but Calib slides out the back door, and Twisted suicides himself for no good cause on his end. He staggers out as Calib hits a neck breaker, dropping Twisted. He raises his arms to the fans, and begins to jaw jack for a moment, before he turns around.]

Clouds: A little show-boating from Calib after that nice counter.

Merchant: That's what I'm talking about right there, action.

Clouds: I'm sure it's going to take a lot more to hold Twisted down though Tim.

Merchant: Works for me, I'd love to see more bashing and crushing by two human beings.

Clouds: That's not a good thing though to see them get injured though.

Merchant: On a stage like this Mike, I hope everyone crushes themselves tonight.

[Calib now picks up Twisted, tossing him off the ropes, and hits a calf kick on the way back. He jaw jacks a little more, as he picks up a ladder, raising it over Twisted. Before he can drop the ladder, he's kicked in the groin from a prone Twisted, who's now back on his feet. He snatches the ladder from Calib, and cracks him right over his head. Calib rolls out of the ring now, as Twisted makes chase. He charges at Calib, and smacks him again with the ladder. He now lays it, draping it over the apron, and the floor, almost like a ramp. He attempts an Irish whip, but Calib reverses, and back drops Twisted onto his own creation, causing the fans to pop hard.]

(HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!)

Clouds: Twisted had something in mind, but Wallace was not having any part of it.

Merchant: That could have been bad for the champ right there Mike.

Clouds: It was Tim.

Merchant: Whatever! You know what I meant by that!

Clouds: Whatever it was, it spelled trouble for both men.

[Calib now gets back to his feet, and goes inside, and sets up the other ladder. He climbs a few rungs up before Twisted gets back to his feet. He brings the ladder on the apron with him, and launches it like a dart at Calib, connecting with his side, dropping both the ladder and Wallace.]

Clouds: THAT'S GOTTA HURT!

Merchant: That honestly is what I'd love to call payback there.

Clouds: Could be the break that Twisted needs here.

[Twisted gets back into the ring, and opens it over Calib's throat. He lifts the ladder legs up, and attempts to crush Calib's skull, but he rolls out of the way before it connects.]

Clouds: Twisted trying to, really finish off Calib Wallace's career here!

Merchant: Yeah that probably would have killed him Mike.

[Twisted now folds the ladder back up, and swings it at Calib, but he misses and is hit with a dropkick to the back. He stumbles forward, dropping the ladder near the other. Calib runs and spears Twisted in the back, sending him on his knees in the corner. He grabs his head, and smacks the back of his head off of his knee, causing Twisted to see stars for a minute. He picks up one ladder, and lays it over the middle rope, then grabs twisted, putting his head on it. He grabs the other now, and lays it the same way, over the head of Twisted, putting his head in a ladder sandwich.]

Clouds: Twisted now trapped between the two.

Merchant: Looks like it's his turn to attempt homicide on a human being.

Clouds: You have that right Tim, Calib's going upstairs, and I think he's going to try to decapitate Twisted!

[Calib flips off the fans from the top, then does the same to Twisted, as he jumps off and double foot stomps the ladder. Thankfully Twisted pulled his head out of the way, as Calib falls of the ladders from the unstable balance. He gets back up and is met with a huge lariat by Twisted, causing Calib to back flip, and land midsection first over the still prone ladder in the corner.]

Clouds: Now Calib is hung up!

Merchant: And look at Twisted, he's got more in store!

[Twisted now lays the top of the other ladder, with the base against Calib's head, as he runs, and punts the back of the closed side, crushing the top into Calib's skull. Calib falls off the other ladder, and is now laying over the other.]

Clouds: Looks like Wallace is in a bit of danger now, and who knows what Twisted has in mind here.

Merchant: From the looks of it, it's his turn now to crush a human being.

[Twisted now, picks up the other ladder, and slams it down, over Calib, crushing him in between the two. He rolls Calib off, and tosses him outside the ring. He sets up a ladder now, and takes a step to the titles. Before he gets up to the second rung, he stops for a moment, and just smiles. He gets back down now, and goes for the other ladder.]

Merchant: What the hell is he doing! He's got this thing won Mike!

Clouds: From the looks of things, I think he's going to do a little more damage. Maybe his hate for Calib is a bit stronger than winning this contest.

Merchant: It's gonna cost him Clouds, I'm telling ya now.

[Twisted picks it up, and launches it over the top, and to the floor, almost crushing Calib, who moves out of the way, and rolls under the ring to avoid the contact. Twisted laughs as he begins to climb once again now after the failed attack.]

Clouds: Twisted might have put Calib out of wrestling had he landed that attack.

Merchant: I guess he's got a vision of having a Pearl Harbor attack here tonight!

Clouds: Whatever it was, he's only a couple of feet away from becoming a double champion!

[Twisted now steps up to the fourth rung, as he reaches for the titles. A bit short, he begins to move up to the next one. By this point, Calib is back on his feet, and has a ladder in hand. He slides it in, and hits the bottom of the ladder Twisted is on. It teeters a bit, stopping Twisted from grabbing the gold. He gets his balance back, but by this point, Calib is already up, and pounding on Twisted's back from the ground. He quickly stands up a ladder next to it, and climbs up. He grabs Twisted and puts his leg over his head, and grabs the arm, and swings, as both men come crashing to the canvas.]

Clouds: OVERDRIVE FROM THE TOP!

Merchant: I think there both dead from that one!

(HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!)

Clouds: The fans have said it all on that one!

[Calib struggles to get to his feet, trying to get his bearings back. He shakes off the stars and begins climbing the ladder. Slowly but surly, he's about at the top. As he reaches for the belts, he's drilled in the back with a ladder from Twisted.]

Clouds: Twisted now back on his feet, and he doesn't look like he's going to go out without a fight tonight!

Merchant: Who can blame him? Two belts are at stake here Mike.

Clouds: Pulling out the stops now, it looks like he's building another ramp!

[Twisted now lays the ladder, from the canvas up to the rung below Calib's feet. He runs up the side and grabs the waist of Calib, as the two both go backward now.]

(HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!)

Clouds: GERMAN FROM THE LADDER!

[Both men now lay, prone and about out. Neither of them are fast to their feet, as they're both are just as bruised up as the other. Twisted gets to his knees, as he begins to shake the cobwebs. Calib also slowly moving back up. The two begin trading shots now, both on there knees still. Calib gets the best of it, and knocks Twisted back. He slowly begins to arise from the shots, as he sits on one knee now. Calib, on the other hand, sees opportunity.]

Clouds: This could be it for Twisted.

Merchant: We know what's next!

[Calib smirks at Twisted, and charges in.]

Clouds: SHINING WIZARD!

[But in a split second, Twisted ducks back, grabbing the tights of Calib before he can send the knee up. He holds on as he is now on his back, sending Calib threw the middle rope, and to the floor.]

Clouds: Twisted countered the Wizard at the last second, and now Calib's back on the floor.

Merchant: Twisted is still a little out of it I think, as he isn't moving to that ladder.

Clouds: Plus I doubt Calib would be out of this one for a long time.

[Twisted now goes outside the ring, and boots Calib in the face. He reaches under the ring and pulls a table out. He gets a good pop from the fans, as he sets it up near the edge of the ring. He lays Calib on the table now, and hops back up on the apron. He points to the sky, and climbs up the turnbuckle, looking for a moonsault on Calib.]

Clouds: This could put both men out of this one.

Merchant: I think the worse off is Wallace though.

[Twisted gets ready to attempt the move, but Calib rolls off the table. Twisted stops, as he's not stuck up there. Calib shoots up on the apron, and grabs Twisted. He's holding on, and attempts a German of his own. Twisted though, holds onto the post, and continues to attempt to fight off Calib's attack.]

Clouds: Both of them are doing everything they can! This is nothing but a test of strength for the two.

Merchant: This could make or break the end tonight!

[Twisted quickly knows that the leverage is with Wallace, so he elbows Calib in the side of the head. Calib grabs the rope and walks down the apron a bit, getting his bearings as Twisted now jumps down. He kicks Calib in the midsection and DDT's him on the apron.]

Clouds: DDT ON THE RING APRON!

Merchant: I think Calib's out.

Clouds: This could be the end for Mr. Wallace!

[Twisted now rolls Calib back into the ring, and puts him in the center of the ring. He opens the ladder now, and lays it over Calib, and begins climbing. Calib gets his wind back, and realizes that he's trapped under the ladder.]

Merchant: He's got Calib trapped!

Clouds: Smart move by Twisted! It looks like he's going to win this thing.

[Calib continues to wiggle around, as Twisted climbs the ladder. He reaches the top, and gloats, as he has his hands on the belts, but the ladder begins to rumble, causing Twisted to grab it, and not the belts. Calib slides forward a bit, and grabs the other ends legs, and tilts it forward. The momentum tips the ladder back, and Twisted is left over the top rope, and crashes through the table below.]

(HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!)

Clouds: TWISTED IS BROKEN!

Merchant: He just fell probably twenty feet through a table!

Clouds: That changed everything!

Merchant: But Calib is slow to his feet, and he better not give Twisted any time to get back!

Clouds: Twisted is rolling around, almost as if the pain is taking his body over. He's trying to move, but his head is not in the game!

[Calib slowly begins to pant, feeling around for the edge of the ladder, trying to pull it to him. After a good thirty seconds or so, he finally gets to his feet, and sets up a ladder. He pulls and pulls, rung by rung, taking forever to get back up.]

Clouds: Calib is close, and I think he's going to win this thing!

Merchant: WAIT!

[We look over, as a hand is now on the apron. A second now, as Twisted is pulling himself back up.]

Clouds: IT'S TWISTED!

Merchant: Holy crap!

[Twisted now pulls his lifeless body into the ring, and begins to crawl to the ladder. He gets his hand on the leg of it, and just stops. He rolls to his back, and has an empty look on his face.]

Clouds: Twisted is on his back again!

Merchant: He's fine, he is just getting wind back moron!

[Calib looks around, and now down at Twisted. The two lock eyes. Calib looks back up, and grabs the Arena Title.]

Clouds: Calib has one, can he get the other?

Merchant: I don't know, but Twisted is just watching this.

Clouds: Did he give up?

Merchant: I don't think he knows where he is.

[By the time there done, we see Calib pull down the Mid-South title also, as the bell sounds.]

Tessa Bradley: HERE IS YOUR WINNER OF THE CONTEST, AND NOW AWA MID-SOUTH AND ARENA CHAMPION!!!! CAAAAAAAALIIIIIIBBB WAAAAAAAALLLAAAAAACE!!!

[The fans give a mixed reaction, being they hate both men, but cannot discredit there ability tonight. Calib holds both up in the air, and slowly makes his way down from the ladder. Twisted slowly rolls himself out of the ring. He's not mad at all, as he just slowly walks to the back. EMT's come down, but Twisted just pushes them away, and continues.]

Clouds: We made history tonight Tim!

Merchant: Calib Wallace is now a double champion. Maybe it is the year of Calib Wallace.

Clouds: I'm not sure, but the way Twisted lost has got me thinking, why did he just give up?

Merchant: I told you Mike, he wouldn't quit, his uh, legs just wouldn't work.

Clouds: I'm sure we will figure this thing out at the next AWA show for all the fans of that region at there next show in February.

Merchant: It looks like Calib isn't done though himself.

[Wallace holds both belts up, before putting them both over each shoulder. He jacks the mic from Tessa and looks at the fans.]

Wallace: It's real simple. Your looking at the "Now" of pro wrestling. You’re looking at the man who will walk away as the best wrestler of 2007. Look at me dammit! Once I finish off Fury in OCW, then there is only one thing left to do, and that's become the WWA World Heavyweight Champion. Christian Light, Thomas Bane, Lee Riel, whoever wins tonight, your a marked man, I promise that.

[He drops the mic again as he celebrates to a chorus of boos from the audience.]

[Backstage.]

[Sitting with his feet propped up on a folding chair, Ryan Blasier is seen flipping through a magazine, killing time until his match later in the evening. He's wearing a pair of black dress slacks, and a black dress shirt, with white stripes.]

[Pacing in front of him is the younger brother of Lemual Jordon, Toussaint, who is wearing a brown leather jacket, and a pair of jeans. The expression on his face, coupled with the restless walking about, indicates he's nervous about something.]

[Blasier glances up from his magazine.]

Blasier: Would you calm down? And take your jacket off. It's going to be a long night.

[Toussaint glances at Blasier and hesitates, before finally unzipping his jacket, and tossing it onto the wooden bench against the far wall. Underneath the jacket, he wears an Indianapolis Colts' jersey.]

Toussaint: I don't know about this, Blasier.

[Blasier raises an eyebrow.]

Blasier: Oh? You seemed to be fine with it when we came to an agreement a couple of days ago.

[Toussaint shifts nervously.]

Toussaint: Yeah, but ... I dunno, man. It's my brother we're talking about.

[Blasier put the magazine down, and sits up straight, eyeing the young man from Indianapolis.]

Blasier: The same brother who has continually overlooked you. The same brother whose shadow you are firmly entrenched in. The same brother who barely even thought to give you fair warning about me, even given my track record. That brother?

[Toussaint shoots him a look that suggests he doesn't need to be reminded about all those things.]

Toussaint: Yeah, but he's still my flesh and blood. Bah!

[He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture.]

Toussaint: You wouldn't understand.

[Blasier lifts an eyebrow.]

Blasier: Wouldn't I? Keep in mind you're talking to an individual who had to live his entire life in the shadow of a successful older brother.

[That got Toussaint's attention. He turns to look directly at Blasier, with Blasier matching his stare.]

Blasier: The fact is I know *exactly* what you go through every single day. When you read your brother's name in the paper, and everyone around you is always congratulating you on your brother's success, as though you had something to do with it.

[Blasier stands up, so that he is eye level with Toussaint.]

Blasier: Or when you're at home, and your parents are going on and on about how well Lemual is doing when they have company around. Meanwhile, you're sitting at the dinner table listening to them rabbit on, trying to become invisible. I know that feeling, Toussaint. And that's why I came to you with my proposal.

[Toussaint seems to weigh what Blasier is saying, nodding reluctantly.]

Toussaint: I know, man. It's just ... it's my brother.

[Toussaint stares down at the floor. Blasier nods, a sympathetic look on his face, as he places a hand on Toussaint's shoulder.]

Blasier: I know. I'm not suggesting this will be easy. But if you ever want to be Toussaint Jordon, not just 'Lemual Jordon's little brother', this has to be done.

[Toussaint looks up, then, with his jaw firm, and nods.]

Blasier: You know I'm right. After tonight, you'll be out of that shadow, and be free to fulfill your own destiny. Not just be a footnote in your brother's.

[Fade.]

(Shockwave is here.)

(In just a matter of hours, the Compaq Center will be filled to the brim with thousands of screaming fans.)

(The ring will be filled with combatants, shedding blood in the name of victory.)

(For now, however, it is an empty arena. Just a ring and enough chairs to sit an army.)

(Chris Egerton stands at the entranceway. In a matter of hours, he too will be shedding blood.)

(Not his own, but Team OLW's.)

(For now, however, he stands alone, scanning the scene and getting mentally prepared for the task at hand.)

"Every word that needs to be said has been said.

Every ego has been laid out onto the table for all to see.

Every claim, every aspiration to grandeur has been noted."

(Sneer.)

"Except mine."

(His eyes darken. The sneer remains.)

"Tonight I walk into that ring with Billy Deserati and David Paige. Team WR."

(Snort.)

"My team spirit took a dump and died. It doesn't matter. We're going to into that ring, lay waste to Team OLW, and then we're on our merry way."

(Sneer.)

"Not me, though. This match is nothing for me. Another walk in the park, another notch in the win column. Yeah, it's a chance to show my skills on the largest stage of them all, but anyone who's been paying attention long enough knows exactly what I can do."

(Slight chuckle.)

"If you ask me, the promoters of this Alliance haven't been paying attention at all."

(If he could smoke in here, he'd be puffing away.)

"That's okay. I'll take what they give me. I'll take it as far as I can, and make the collective members of Team OLW wish they had never been born."

(He scratches his overgrown sideburns, staring right past the camera as if in a state of contemplation.)

"Then I'll go back to WR and continue my reign of terror."

(That trademark sneer turns into that trademark smirk.)

"I'll repeat ad nauseaum until I finally get the recognition I deserve."

(And the smirk becomes a devilish smile.)

"If you ignore me long enough, however, I'll just have to force that recognition down your throats."

(Cut.)

[Backstage.]

[The Last Nighthawk is shown walking into the arena, with blue jeans, white Reebok sneakers, and his black Shockwave promotional T-shirt (the one with the head shots of all six Elimination Chamber participants superimposed over a shot of the Elimination Chamber on the front). He's got the World Heavyweight Title strapped to his waist, and a Reebok gym bag. Quickly he makes his way through the arena, smiling and waving at the passerby's. Making a left turn at his next "T" intersection proves to be an interesting turn, because it brings him face to face with both the previous World Champion and a new associate of his.]

[Ryan Blasier, wearing a pair of black dress slacks, and a black Oxford button up shirt with white stripes, and black shoes so shiny you can see the reflection of his smug expression in them, pauses in his conversation with his associate to look Light's way. The 'associate' is none other than Lemual Jordon's baby brother, Toussaint Jordon. He wears a pair of faded blue jeans, and an Indianapolis Colts' football jersey. Both men eye Light's approach.]

[Light glances at Toussaint curiously for a moment, wondering why he's with Blasier, but quickly focuses his glare on the man he despises, lest he take a knee brace to the face.]

[Blasier offers him an insincere smile.]

Blasier: Hello, Christian. I'm surprised that you haven't recoiled in terror at my presence. After all, for someone who is parading around as though he were a legitimate World Champion, you've done an absolutely masterful job of hiding from me.

Light: You know, if you really did want a World Title match, I'm sure all you had to do was ask and you'd be in this Chamber. If you haven't gotten the memo, counting tonight, I've defended this title in six weeks more than half the number of times you did in almost six months. I've never, ever ducked anyone before, and I won't start now.

[Mock clapping from the former World Champion is heard at Light's remark.]

Blasier: Interesting speech. Almost believable. But unlike the rest of the world, who see you as this pinnacle of greatness, I see right through your facade. You make claims about how often you defend that belt, yet look at who you've faced. Michael Morrison? Michael Morrison shouldn't even be anywhere near a World title shot. Bryan Smith? The same buffoon who cost me that title? Don't make me laugh.

[He shakes his head, a sneer painted on his face.]

Blasier: Fact is, Christian, if you honestly, truly felt you could defeat me, you would have demanded a chance to prove it. You can make excuses all you want, stick to your story that it's the WWA championship committee's fault, or it's because I haven't taken the initiative to come after you. But the fact remains that you know deep down you defeated Bryan Smith, *not* me. And until you prove you can pin my shoulders to the mat for the one, two, three - like I did to you our previous encounter - you'll be nothing but a glorified paper champion.

Light: It's funny how you always walk and talk by the "By Any Means Necessary" mantra and then, all of a sudden, when it backfires on you, you're the first to point fingers. Yeah, I didn't pin you, but trust me, I had every intention of it. And if you really care about getting back in the ring with me...if you really want this

[taps the World Heavyweight title] back...then how about we propose a little deal. You want a shot at me? I'll go to the championship board and try to persuade them about what kind of money and ratings Light and Blasier three would bring in. All you have to do? Win. Beat Jordon by pinfall or submission, tonight, and I'll do everything in my power to put your name back at the top of the list. Lose, and you can get back in line with everyone else waiting for a shot.

[Light cracks a slight smile.]

Light: And as an added bonus, I'll also give you my word that I'll be nowhere near you or Jordon during your match. Whaddya think, former champ?

[Blasier returns the smile.]

Blasier: First off, when I want my shot, believe me, I'll get it. I don't need you to vouch for me. However, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, and allow you to prove you're not ducking my challenge. After I dispose of that nuisance Jordon, consider Blasier-Light part three a reality.

[Blasier takes a step closer to Light.]

Blasier: As for promises about staying clear of your match tonight, I refuse to make promises I might, or might not break.

[Blasier turns away from Light, and with Toussaint in tow, disappears down the hallway.]

[An upset Sean Jackson is seen walking backstage. For the first time, in a long time, Sean Jackson is walking alone, and looking for OCW owner Eric Ramirez. As he catches a glimpse of the camera crew, his rant begins.]

“You've got to be fucking kidding me Ramirez. I can't believe that THIS is the way that you're going to treat me. When OCW was at its lowest point, it was ME who came in to fix things.”

[He keeps storming through the backstage area, yelling at the top of his lungs.]

"Where the HELL are you bitch?" he keeps screaming at Ramirez.

[It now appears that he could care less about getting fired, he's just tired of getting screwed over.]

"If it isn't Thomas Bane getting my air time, it's that bitch Sherry costing me matches".

[He is now tipping over equipment and shoving the backstage crew in an attempt to find the elusive OCW owner. However, he ends up grabbing one by the shirt.]

"Where is he?"

[The man shakes his head.]

“I...I don't know…”

[Sean now has two large handfuls of the man's shirt and is pushing him against the wall.]

"I don't have time for games mother fucker". Sean is burning holes into the man as they are practically inches apart. "So you had better tell me where Ramirez is, or things are about to get awfully physical around here".

“I...I don't know where he is Mr. Jackson, I swear!!”

[Sean then throws the man to the side and continues storming backstage.]

"Leave me off of Shockwave? I don't fucking think so"

[Sean Jackson then looks square into the camera.]

"I'm getting sick and tired of your shit Ramirez. When I got screwed out of my match with Bane, you got your rocks off with Sherry."

[Sean grabs the camera.]

"Which I didn't appreciate a bit. Because in fucking her, you in essence fucked me over also. So you had better fix this Ramirez, and you had better fix this NOW." Jackson is so mad, he's trembling, with the veins popping out of the side of his neck.

"Then, to make matters worse, you allow Midas and Porn Star Productions to come in and humiliate Pamela and me? I guess you've forgotten who you're dealing with."

[Jackson shoves the camera away.]

[Cut.]

[Lemual Jordon is strolling through the backstage hallway, dressed in black tracksuit bottoms, sneakers and a white 'Team Stampede' football jersey. He passes by a few of the backstage workers, and nods and greets them with a smile. As he rounds a corner, his eyes light up as he sees an unexpected guest.]

[His brother, Toussaint.]

[Jordon approaches his younger brother, and claps him on the shoulder. Toussaint seems startled, but quickly covers it up with a forced smile.]

Jordon: Hey bro, I wasn't expecting you to be here tonight but it’s good to see you.

Toussaint: Yeah, umm, I never planned on being here, but here I am.

[Jordon eyes his brother curiously.]

Jordon: What gives, Touey?

Toussaint: What do you mean?

Jordon: You just don't seem yourself. You seem ... off.

[Toussaint doesn’t seem to want to look his brother in the eye, instead choosing to fumble with a Styrofoam cup in front of the coffee dispenser.]

Jordon: Toussaint?

[Toussaint turns and smiles weakly at his brother.]

Toussaint: Sorry, big bro. I gotta jet. But good luck tonight.

[Jordon frowns.]

Jordon: Where are you going?

[Despite Jordon’s repetition of that phrase, Toussaint doesn’t answer, and walks off down the hallway with his head hung low.]

(Cut to the backstage area. Chris Egerton, still drenched in sweat from his match, walks towards his dressing room door. He opens the door, takes two steps in, and a familiar scene is there waiting for him...)

"You satisfied?"

(Chris looks across the room to see that all too familiar glow of the end of a cigarette piercing through the darkness.)

".....No. Not at all. I haven't been satisfied since that match was announced, and I haven't been able to figure out why until now."

"I could've saved you some time, but please.. Enlighten me."

(Chris is pacing the room, slowly.)

"You seem flustered. Sit down, stay awhile."

"No. No no no. This ain't right, man. Since I came back, all I've done is succeed. I've beaten everyone that's been put in my path. Then you came along, and we've been tearing through everyone. We put Rayne in the hospital, we dumped John Henry through a flaming table, and yet, here I am, being put in some meaningless six-man match with partners I don't want to team with against opponents I don't care a rat's ass about. It isn't right."

(Chris continues his pacing. The tension inside is at the breaking point.)

"The promoters don't believe in you, Chris. It's that simple."

[Smoke filters from the darkness.]

"You should fix that."

(Chris stops in mid-pace.)

"You're damn right. We can continue to wreak havoc in WR, and we will. I can continue to beat everyone put in front of me, and I will. But it won't matter. I'm never gonna get to the top unless I take matters into my own hands."

(Chris stares right into the darkness.)

"I want it all. And if there's one thing I've learned from you, it's this: If you want something, just take it. The ends justify the means."

(Cut.)

[Knock knock knock.]

[A few moments passed, then the door slowly opened. One of the biggest men around peered out, gaze shifting about above the knocker's head, then downward. He was expecting someone taller, probably with a bone to pick.]

John Henry: "Wut kin Ah dew fo' yeh?"

Billy Deserati: "Heya Green Mile, 'member me?"

[Billy up-nods.]

HENRY: "Ah reckon so."

[Billy looks eye to eye... sort of… with John Henry.]

DESERATI: "Well, I figure I owe you one for what how you helped me in my match against Thorne. I'm in the process of building a machine that will destroy Diablo! It's not ready tonight... I'm going to field test it. Once it's done, it's all yours, kay?"

[Billy nods again.]

DESERATI: "And don't tell me you don't want it, it's yours to do with whatever you please."

[A blink from John.]

HENRY: "Dat be nahs o' yeh. Ah'd be glad t' tayk yo' gif'."

DESERATI: "Cool, anyways. Good luck against that devil dude. I'm going to go online to try to become a priest or something, maybe then I'll be able to help yah out... See ya in the funnies."

[Deserati waves and walks off.]

HENRY: "...Dat boy ain't raht..."

[A slow shake of the head, before the door closed once more.]

(True greatness himself, Michael Morrison, is shown walking down a corridor backstage. He had been called earlier in the week by AWA president Charles Adams, and was asked if he could come to Shockwave and speak with him in-person. Michael agreed, but was curious as to why the boss wanted to talk to him. After his hard-fought match with Sam Horrey at Saturday Night Slam, Michael made his way down to Houston, Texas, for the show.)

(As he approached the door to the office of Adams, he knocked on the door and heard a voice telling him to come in. He opened the door and saw Charles sitting behind a desk. Adams stood up and shook the hand of Morrison.)

Charles Adams: Hello Michael, I’m glad you could make it.

“Greatness” Michael Morrison: No problem, what did you want to speak with me about?

Charles Adams: Well Michael, I brought you down here because I wanted to let you know in person that we, in the AWA, have big plans for you in 2007. I’ve been very impressed with your work since coming to the AWA and I just wanted to tell you to keep it up. I have a feeling, before too long, you’ll actually be competing at one of these pay-per-views, instead of sitting here talking with me.

“Greatness” Michael Morrison: Well Charles, I appreciate the confidence you have in me. You know, since Final Countdown, I feel like a new person, and I think I’m going to do some good things in the AWA in 2007. I have a new attitude and I’m going to work hard, you can count on that.

Charles Adams: Well I don’t have any doubt about that and I’m really glad to have you on board. Thanks for dropping by and enjoy the rest of the show.

“Greatness” Michael Morrison: Thanks.

(Michael and Charles shake hands, and Morrison leaves the room. He was a little surprised at what he just heard, but confident that he could show Adams that his confidence was not misplaced.)

(As he begins walking down the corridor, a stern look comes across his face. The camera pans over and finds the WWA Extreme Champion, Lee Riel, standing there. The two walk up to each other and have a stare down.)

“Greatness” Michael Morrison: Lee..

Lee Riel (smirking): Mikey...

”Greatness” Michael Morrison: I guess you have a pretty big match tonight...facing Christian Light, among others, for the WWA World Championship. You think you're ready?

Lee Riel: As ready as one could be with a match as random and with as many possibilities as an Elimination Chamber. Of course, the brutality won't be a problem for me to cope with. (smile) What are you doing here anyway? You're not booked. As tempting as it may be for you, don't go hitting Light with a pipe or anything, I already had to save him from Curtis a couple weeks ago.

”Greatness” Michael Morrison: (laughing) Don't worry about me Lee, I'm not here to cause any trouble. I had a meeting with Charles Adams, the AWA prez, a little earlier and he told me that he has big plans for me in 2007. What those might be, I'm not sure, but one thing is for sure, I'm going to make a name for myself around here. Now Lee, we've had some intense battles in the past and I have a feeling, before it's all said and done with, that we'll meet in that ring at some point in the future

Lee Riel: Well when that time comes you better expect an ass whooping but for now as long as you don't mess with anyone in my match, you're alright in my book.

”Greatness” Michael Morrison: I'm just here to enjoy a good show. Riel, we might not have always seen eye to eye on some things but one thing I know is that I've always had respect for you. You're a hell of a wrestler and I look forward to doing battle with you again. In the meantime...

(Morrison extends his right hand as Riel backs off for a second. Lee eventually walks back up to Michael and after a few tense moments, Riel shakes his hand. Morrison flashes a smile).

“Greatness” Michael Morrison: Good luck tonight in your quest for the gold!

Riel: Thanks.

(The two walk off in opposite directions.)

(Cut.)

Clouds: And we're back folks!

Merchant: Indeed we are, Mikey! Next up we have quite the match for you folks watching at home!

Clouds: We sure do! These men are main eventers in their own right, but in a card that has so many stellar matches and superstars, you almost have to put this match second for the night.

Merchant: They way I see it, every man on this card is a main eventer. This is an alliance wide PPV, after all.

Clouds: You're right about that, Tim. Let's get to the match!

Bradley: The following contest on Shockwave, is scheduled for one fall...

[The lights dim through out the arena with the fans murmuring off who's to come out next. Suddenly "Enter the Sandman" by Metallica starts blaring over the PA system and the fans all stand as they know who this song belongs to. Jake Devins, the Assassin himself. White lights begin flashing through out the arena until Jake Devins steps out from behind the curtain and onto the stage, a smirk across his face. He is clad in his black loose martial arts pants, black elbow pads and black wrist tape. He stands on the stage for a bit....]

Bradley: Introducing first from Sacramento California, weighing in at 240 pounds. He is "The Assassin" Jaaaaaaaaaaaaake Deeeeeeeeeevviiiiiiiiinnnnnnsssssss!!!!

[The crowd comes unglued, singing the lyrics to "Enter the Sandman" Jake finally begins his descent down to the ring, passing up outstretched hands left and right before he slides into the ring and climbs up the furthest turnbuckle and stares out into the sea of fans, making a belt symbol across his waist before he hops down and his music fades...]

Clouds: The Assassin, Jake Devins ladies and gentlemen. He sure does look ready.

Merchant: No doubt, The Assassin will have the size and power advantage tonight. He looks jacked. Not to mention, it's gotta be disheartening from his opponent's standpoint as not only does Devins has a size advantage, he's got a background in martial arts, so the speed advantage isn't as great a distance as perhaps it would normally be.

Clouds: His speed surely will be put to the test tonight.

[The lights quickly snap off as the guitar riffs of Deep Purple’s “Perfect Strangers” begin to play. Smoke slowly rises from underneath the black curtains on top of the ramp way. The strobe lights along the entranceway begin to flicker rapidly and change from lime green’s to purple’s.]

[Travis Zahn slowly appears from behind the curtain, walking ever so carefully onto the top of the ramp, putting his hands on his hips and looking around with an ever so present smirk on his face. His long, black, sparkly sleeveless overcoat that reads “Diceman” on the back nearly scrapes the floor as he begins to head down the aisle. He mutters stuff that can’t be made out clearly due to the music. His tights for the show tonight are white with orange, “Diceman” written with the orange outline along each leg and TZ on the back.]

Bradley: Coming down the aisle…from Las Vegas, Nevada…weighing in at 227 pounds…”The Diceman”…TRAVVVVIIIIIIIISSSS ZAAAAAAAAAAHHHHNNN!

[Zahn walks to the ringside area and heads around the ring, looking and making comments towards the fans in the front row. He points to himself and nods as fans try to reach out and touch him. He continues his way around the ring before grabbing hold of the middle rope and pulling himself up onto the apron. He faces the crowd and smiles, folding his arms across his chest and smirking once again. Zahn spins around and enters the ring through the middle and top rope before climbing the turnbuckle and raising his arms. He gets a strong ovation from the predominantly OCW crowd...]

Clouds: We know what Travis Zahn can do in that ring. We've called plenty of his matches.

Merchant: "The Diceman" may have his hands full with "The Assassin", but don't think that he's coming in tonight as the underdog. I hope Jake Devins brought a lunch with him, he's gonna need it.

[Zahn takes off his overcoat and hands it to the crew at ringside. He fixes his hair which is tied in a pony tail. He stretches in the corner and hooks his arms on the top rope before leaning back and bouncing a couple times against them.]

Clouds: This is going to be an excellent match.

Merchant: As campy as this may sound, the winner will be the one who flawlessly, flawlessly executes his game plan.

Clouds: Easier said than done.

DING DING DING!!!!!

[Zahn and Devins circle each other and lock up in a collar-to-elbow tie up. Zahn goes behind Devins with a standing hammerlock, taking him down with a drop toe-hold, and then executing a side headlock on the mat...]

Clouds: Excellent series of moves there by Travis Zahn.

Merchant: They're on one of the biggest WWA Pay-Per-Views of the year, neither Zahn or Devins can afford to hold anything back.

Clouds: They gotta let it all hang out.

Merchant: Very good Tim, your ears do work.

[Both men stood up with Devins still trapped in the headlock. Following an elbow to the midsection by Devins, he sent Travis off the ropes, connecting with a shoulder block as he rebounded. Devins bounced off the ropes, as Zahn nipped back up to his feet. Zahn did a drop down and Devins hopped over him. As he rebounded off the ropes, Zahn attempted a leap frog but was caught mid-air by Devins, and spinebustered violently to the mat. He stood back up with his arms outstretched soaking in the mixed reaction of the crowd...]

Clouds: Thunderous spinebuster by Devins. Even better to show the presence of mind to spinebuster him out of the leap frog. Your timing has to be perfect on such a counter.

Merchant: On the flip side, there's not much you can do once you leave your feet. You're at the mercy of your opponent, and Travis Zahn just found out the hard way, Jake Devins is a wrestler without mercy.

[Devins picked Zahn up off the mat, scoring with a roundhouse kick to Zahn's chest. Zahn fell back into the turnbuckles, with Devins following up knife edge chops. The fans "woooo'ed" to every chop that Devins laid into Zahn. He Irish whipped Travis into the opposite turnbuckles, following Zahn in to hit him, presumably, with a clothesline. Zahn surprised Jake when he slingshot himself over Zahn...]

Clouds: Great heads up move by Travis Zahn!!! Now he's unloading with punches to face of "The Assassin!!!!"

[The crowd rose to their feet, cheering wildly for Zahn's turn of the tide. Zahn monkey flipped Devins out the corner, but Devins cartwheeled himself expertly onto his feet, to the "ooohhhhh" of the crowd. In a turnabout move, Zahn thought he had the upper hand not realizing that Devins was already on his feet. Jake sent him down to the canvas via a thrust kick...]

Merchant: Did you see the way Travis Zahn's head bounced off the mat? Any people out there thinking that Jake Devins has any sort of ring rust on him, is off their rocker!!!

Clouds: Travis Zahn does not look like he knows where he is at this very moment!!! Look at how his eyes are glazed over!!!

[Jake posed and taunted the crowd, stomping on the prone body of Travis Zahn. He then picked Zahn up, and dropped him hard to the mat courtesy of a vertical suplex. Jake turned Travis onto his stomach and sank in a tight camel clutch...]

Clouds: Jake Devins has switched gears, and now has locked Travis Zahn in the camel clutch.

Merchant: And let me tell you why this is a great move. Travis likes to be the one that dictates the pace of the match, and usually he can--whenever his opponent comes at him with a one-dimensional offense. Jake has varied his attacks; striking, grappling, and now a submission. He's managing to keep Travis Zahn off balance, it's a good start for Jake Devins.

Clouds: Look at the torque he's putting Zahn's back!

[Jake pulled back harder, yelling some obscenities at the crowd and to his opponent...]

Clouds: I could only imagine the pain Zahn's in right now.

Merchant: And look at Devins put the bad mouth on Travis, right in his ear while he tries to get the submission. Great psychology by Jake Devins.

[Travis lunges for the ropes, forcing a break in the hold. Jake still stomps away at his back, looking to cause more of an injury. Jake bounces off the ropes to drive an elbow into the back of Travis Zahn, but he missed. Travis slid out of the ring to walk around and get his bearings back...]

Merchant: Smart move by Travis Zahn. He didn't try to play macho and stay in there when he was hurt. I know how Travis thinks. He's trying to formulate a strategy to keep the bigger man Devins off of him.

Clouds: Only one problem. "The Assassin" is now on his feet.

Merchant: That "Assassin" name is a popular one throughout the WWA isn't it?

[Zahn walks around the ring for a bit, getting some of the feeling back into his lower body. At the referee's behest, he slides back into the ring...]

Merchant: It looks as if we're starting from scratch.

[As Zahn goes to lock up with Devins, he dropkicks Devins’ knee. He springboards off the ropes and gives Devins a front dropkick to his face...]

Clouds: Zahn has managed to take over the match!!!

[Devins used the ropes to pull himself up. Before he could get his bearings, Zahn nailed him with a spinning heel kick that took both of them over the top rope, to the "ooooohhhhh" of the crowd. Devins was on the floor below, while Zahn remained on the apron...]

Merchant: That was a helluva spinning heel kick by Travis!!!

Clouds: He rarely uses that move, but I guess now is as good a time as any!!

[As Devins was pulling himself up on the guardrail, Travis climbed to the top turnbuckles...]

Clouds: It looks like Travis is calling in the heavy reinforcements.

[Devins groggily made it to his feet, only to be crushed by a somersault plancha to the arena floor. The crowd cheered wildly...]

Clouds: SOMERSAULT PLANCHA BY TRAVIS ZAHN!!!!

Merchant: Neither man is moving!!!

[With the crowd still cheering, and the referee counting, Travis made it to his feet first. He rolled The Assassin inside the ring, and went for a cover...]

Clouds: Cover!!!

1.....

2.....

Clouds: Kickout by Jake Devins!!

Merchant: "The Assassin" still has some fight left in him!!

[Travis Zahn stood up and slid his thumb across his throat. The crowd cheered, sensing the end...]

Merchant: Travis Zahn is about to take it to another level.

[Zahn picked Jake Devins up and locked in an inverted front facelock. He turned and dropped to the mat with an elbow drop, crashing all his weight on top of Jake as Jake crashed to the mat. The crowd became unglued...]

Clouds & Merchant: PAYOUT!!!!

Clouds: Cover!!!

1.....

2.....

Merchant: How did Jake kick out of that?!

Clouds: I thought he had him there.

[Travis, firmly in control of the match, picked up Jake from a neutral position, and spinebustered him to the mat. He cradled Devin's legs for another cover...]

Clouds: This is it!! This is it!!!

1.....

2.....

Merchant: Look at that!!! What smart wrestling by Travis Zahn!!! Jake kicked out of the pin, and Travis used Jake's momentum to trap him in a Boston Crab!!!

[Devins sat in the hold, grimacing in pain. Travis, cranked lower on the Boston Crab...]

Clouds: And now it's Devins on the mat grimacing in pain. Travis Zahn has managed to turn this match around, after the strong start by "The Assassin" Jake Devins.

Merchant: True, but a "Roll of the Dice" could give the "Diceman", another notch in his belt.

Clouds: That's if Jake doesn't tap first!!! Look at his hand!!!

[Jake readied his hand to tap out, and the crowd became restless as it hovered over the mat. However, realizing where he was at, Jake lunged for the bottom rope, and the referee called for Travis to break the hold...]

Clouds: Travis was so close to making Jake tap out. If he would've held him in that Crab any longer he may have.

Merchant: I agree with you, and don't get used to that.

[The referee was asking Jake if he could continue the match, as he struggled to make it to his feet. "The Diceman" pointed to the ring apron, and the crowd roared their approval. He took his perch outside the ring, as the referee still spoke with Jake. Once Jake was on his feet, Travis sprang to the top rope, preparing to hit his signature flipping clothesline. Before he could steady himself, Jake pushed the referee into the ropes, causing "The Diceman" to slip off the ropes, clotheslining himself on the ring apron. The crowd booed heavily for Jake...]

Clouds: Of all the low-down, dirty...Jake just pushed the referee into the ropes!!!

Merchant: What ring presence Jake has. He knew exactly where Travis was, and what he was planning. That's the mark of a great wrestler right there, perfect timing.

Clouds: I suppose you would like that, that's right out of your playbook!!!

[With the referee admonishing Jake Devins, he made his way over to Travis Zahn, who was holding himself on the ring apron with one arm on the ropes. Devins laced into him with brutal roundhouse kicks to his midsection doubling him over in an attempt to break his grip. Frustrated, Devins somersaulted over Zahn, trying to powerbomb him from the ring apron to the floor. Zahn stood his ground...]

Clouds: "The Diceman" regained his wits, he's holding on to that rope for dear life!!!

Merchant: It's hold on or be splattered to the ring floor!!!

[Zahn let go of the ropes, but instead of being powerbombed, he delivered a hurracanrana to "The Assassin" sending him careening into the guardrail. The crowd was on their feet, as Travis slid into the ring...]

Clouds: Travis Zahn will not be denied here tonight!!!

[Zahn balled his fist, blew into it, and shook it opening his palm. The crowd whipped into a frenzy, as they knew what that hand signal meant...]

Merchant: You know what that means!!!

Clouds: Travis Zahn is looking for a "Roll of the Dice!!!"

[Jake made it to his knees, but the camera man zoomed in on him as he pulled himself up on the apron...]

Clouds: Wait a minute!!! Jake's going into his boot!!!

Merchant: He's got Brass Knucks'!!!

[With Travis body blocking the referee's view, Zahn reached out in between the top and middle rope, trying to pull Jake's groggy body into the ring. With his head exposed, Devins swung with all his might, crashing his weighted fist against Travis' head. Travis collapsed to the mat, as Jake put the object back into his pants, he slid in the ring, hooking a leg...]

Merchant: He's gonna steal it here!!!!

Clouds: Not like this!!!!!

1.....

2.....

3!!!!!

DING DING DING!!!!

Clouds: Oh come on!!!

Bradley: Your winner of the match, "The Assassin" Jaaaaaaake Deeeeeeviiiiiiiinnnnssss!!!!!

Merchant: You might not like how he won, but he showed excellent resourcefulness to get the job done.

["Enter the Sandman" blared on the PA system, as the OCW strong crowd rained boos onto Jake Devins. The referee raised the groggy hand of Jake Devins in victory.]

Clouds: I’d hardly consider brass knuckles a viable definition of being resourceful.

Merchant: Hey, don’t forget what the former World Champion, OCW’s very own Ryan Blasier’s motto: By any means necessary.

Clouds: You did say former champ, right?

Merchant: Hey now. Ryan Blasier’s easily the most distinguished champion the WWA has had in years.

Clouds: Minus the titanium knee brace, right?

Merchant: Any means necessary.

Clouds: Right... Moving on to-

[The arena goes dark, save for red spotlights are focused in the ring...]

Clouds: We apologize. It seems we're having some sort of malfunct.....

"To all the killas in the hundred dolla' buildin's......the real niggas who ain't got no feelin's...."

[The red spotlights then find their way towards the entrance way as the rest of Mobb Deep's 'Shook Ones' plays over the loudspeakers. Sam "The Man" Horrey makes his way to the entrance ramp, to a loud ovation...]

Merchant: This crowd knows who that is. That's Sam "The Man" Horrey, currently of the AWA. At one time a major staple in Texas' own OCW.

Clouds: The former WWA National Champion hasn't been on a WWA pay-per-view in quite some time.

[Sam has made his way into the ring, and was given a microphone by the ring attendant. His music fades, but a mild chorus of "Horrey, Horrey, Horrey!!!" echoes throughout the arena. Sam smiles as he nods his head...]

Sam: Damn I miss you, Houston!!!

[The cheers and chants of "Horrey" grew louder. Sam acknowledged it, blowing kisses to his audience. Then he got serious...]

Sam: However, all is not right in Horreyland. I haven't been on a WWA pay-per-view in Lord knows how long, and that's in part due to me coming and going from the WWA. Why come and go so much? Why even leave in the first place, you ask?

[Sam extended his index finger.]

Sam: Frustration.

[He nodded his head.]

Sam: You people have seen the things that are going on here, and the one that is at the forefront of my frustration is a little thing in the WWA that's called the King of the Deathmatch Tournament. A tournament set up so that--quote/end quote--"wrestlers", be they either great like, Bryan Smith...

(Fans cheer for the OCW Texas Heritage Champion...)

....once-great, like former WWA World Champion Rayne....

(Fans cheer for Rayne...)

....and even not-so great like Dean Hobkirk...

(Fans give a lukewarm response for Hobkirk...)

....can hit each other over the head with weapons and bleed buckets all in an attempt to prove what? I look at guys like the so-called "Extreme" World Champion, Lee Riel and I think to myself, "Is this the road that the WWA has come down to? Is this the road wrestling has come down to?"

[Sam paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts...]

Sam: I've heard fans and wrestlers of this...."garbage" style defend it by saying that this is their niche in the world of professional wrestling. They say that they're only providing an alternative to the norm in wrestling. Beating somebody with a broom, or kicking a chair into somebody's face ain't wrestling. That's violent crap!!!

(The crowd gave him a mixed response...)

Sam: This is a sport. You win, you lose, but you always come back to fight another day. I've seen career after career cut short because somebody got a tendon cut after falling on barbed wire, or someone's body gets disfigured because they wanted to set themselves on fire just so they can injure another wrestler. Ladies and Gentlemen, the buck stops here.

[The camera zoomed in close on Sam...]

Sam: From the worst of y'all, to the best this extreme division has to offer, I will cut this cancer out of the WWA. It starts with you on February 3rd, Dean Hobkirk. Then from there, I will cut my path straight to the winner of this 'Deathmatch Tournament' and ultimately the so-called 'Extreme' World Champion.

Clouds: Look at those eyes folks, he means business.

Sam: If this is the road that professional wrestling has gone down, then this moment is its detour. I'm Sam "The Man" Horrey ladies and gentlemen, and I am professional wrestling.

[Fans continue their lukewarm response to Horrey as "Shook Ones" plays over the loud speaker again. Sam makes his exit out the ring, shaking hands with fans on his way back through the entrance area.]

[Enter Brian Fisher. Pre-recorded, off-set.]

[Glendale, California. Sometime in December.]

[I showed up at his house unexpectedly and walked right in. He must have heard me because he turned the corner into the hallway I was in with a gun in his hand. We literally bumped into each other, causing him to accidentally pull the trigger and fire a shot into the floor. We both hit the deck. When he realized he was the one with the gun, he stood up, walked over and straddled me. The look on my face is not one of fear, but one of complete disappointment.]

“Why’d you miss?” I asked.

[He cocked his head. A smile formed, his grill shining off of a reflection from a mirror in the hallway.]

“Shit,” he said, “if I’d a known that was you, I woulda got the mufuckin’ RPG out, nigga.”

[This is A.O. Smith.]

-

[Detroit, Michigan. Sometime in December.]

[I walked into Sneaky Pete’s, a hole-in-the-wall bar just across the “good side” of Eight Mile Road a little past midnight. The guy I was looking for was doing exactly what I thought he would be doing—trying to impress female folk with a rousing rendition of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” via Tiny Tim’s Traveling Karaoke.]

[He must have spotted me as I walked in because he paused during the silhouette part in the lyrics. It wasn’t a big pause, very slight actually, but I noticed it. I walked up to the bar and ordered a Tom Collins.]

[When the song was finished, someone sat down on the empty stool next to me.]

“That song’s got me laid every night since the summer,” he said.

[This is Logan Kaine.]

-

[Kagoshima, Japan. Sometime in December.]

[The sign on the front of the building read “Yuu’s Meats,” only in Japanese. I walked in, brushed past a couple of people in line and walked behind the counter and through a doorway that had a sign that read “Employees Only” over the door in Japanese.]

[I walked into the run-down dojo in the back. It was dimly lit and smelled like rotten meat. Two Japs were slugging it out with each other while a few others looked on. One of them took control with an STO and stomped the shit out of the other guy while he was on the ground. The aggressor locked on a modified Anaconda Vice and the other tapped out.]

[While the guy on the ground laid there for a few seconds, momentarily trying to catch his breath or maybe just embarrassed by his performance I assumed, the other man started screaming something in Japanese to the people watching, making a motion with his arms and hands as if he wanted someone else to step up and try to do what the grounded man couldn’t. When no one said anything, he looked over at me with a smile and calmly repeated the same thing. I smiled back.]

[This is Riki Yuu.]

-

[Kodiak, Alaska. Sometime in December.]

[Alaska in mid-July is cold. Alaska in December is Antarctic. On this day, the wind was blowing fiercely against my face, and the hood on my parka wasn’t staying up.]

[I had to ask some locals where to find him, and they drew me a map of the vicinity without any idiotic questions as to why. They offered to sled me, but I declined and chose to walk instead. After nearly an hour in the cold and wind, I found him standing outside his igloo in nothing but a pair of long john underwear and snowshoes. He was ice fishing. He heard my feet crunching on top of the snow and turned slightly.]

“Put your shirt on. Let’s go,” I said.

“In a minute,” he said. “Fish have been biting all day.”

[I stood there for five more minutes. Nothing bit on his line. He got up, went into his igloo and came out a few minutes later. He had on a Hawaiian shirt, board shorts and sandals.]

[This is Quinn the Eskimo.]

[Once again in the bowels of the Compaq arena Lemual Jordon trudges, looking somewhat less relaxed than he did when he arrived, he seems positively stressed as he opens every locker room that he passes on the corridor.]

[The first is empty, as is the second he comes across. The third is occupied, but after a quick glance around ‘the Colt’ doesn’t find that which he is looking for.]

Lemual Jordon – Sorry.

[He exits quickly. The next door he tries is locked.]

Lemual Jordon – [hollering] Toussaint, you in there?

[There is no reply. Jordon hurries on then next door that Jordon checks does open and Jordon puts his head inside. He finds Thomas Bane, head in hands on the bench trying to get focused for the biggest match of his WWA career to date.]

Lemual Jordon – Sorry, Thomas, I’m looking for my kid brother. Don’t suppose you’ve seen him.

[Bane looks over and shakes his head.]

Lemual Jordon – Best of luck for tonight. In that environment, I think you’ll need it.

[Jordon exits.]

[At the next portal to another room Jordon comes across he tries the handle it’s locked, ‘The Colt’ beats his fist on the door several times.]

Lemual Jordon – [shouting] Touey, you there?

[There’s a murmur from somewhere, after a couple of hard thrusts with Jordon’s sturdy shoulder the lock gives, the door flies open.]

[There is nothing inside except a Hoover, cleaning equipment and toiletries. Jordon bites his bottom lip in annoyance and moves on, still looking for the needle in the haystack.]

[Turning another corner in the hidden corridors of the Houston arena Lemual finds more doors, more possibilities. The first door he tires flies open, inside is multiple WWA champion Michael Lennox. Jordon scans the room.]

Lemual Jordon – Umm.. sorry about that, looking for my brother is all. I’m guessing you haven’t seen him.

[Lennox closes his book and walks over until he is face to face with the elder Jordon.]

Lennox: Most people know well to avoid me in places like this. But, if I see him, I’ll let you know.

[Exiting Jordon looks back.]

Lemual Jordon – Best of luck tonight.

[The next locker room he comes to ‘the Colt’ finds empty.]

Lemual Jordon – Where the hell are they?

[Back ringside.]

Clouds - Lemual Jordon looking for a needle in the haystack.

Merchant - “What’s our next match?”

Clouds - “Well Tim, all the way from Ireland it’s the Wrestling Republic versus the Ole Line boys in a six man interfederation elimination match.”

Merchant - “So, who’s in the ring already?”

Clouds - “That would be Team OLW. There’s Python, that’s Wyatt Connors, and that would be Cole Christenson.”

Merchant - “Looks like a small group, with the exception of that Cole guy.”

Clouds - “Indeed Tim, but it’s been proven before that size doesn’t always matter.”

Merchant - “That’s what they want you to believe so you don‘t feel ashamed and useless.”

Clouds - “… Anyways, here comes Team WR.”

[RA's "Fallen Angels" hit the system and Billy bursts through the back taking extra time to pose for the adoring public. They shower him in praise and he seems to soak it up like a sponge. He comes down the ramp working the aisle talking to fans. He pauses by someone wearing a Holy Terror t-shirt and he raises their hand then slaps five with them. A few of the audience members nearby slap his shoulders or touch him. Billy himself manages to get in the ring and poses a few times before going over to his opponents.]

Merchant - “I love that kid.”

Clouds - “Indeed he’s one hell of a wrestler, but a little cocky for my taste.”

Merchant - “Cocky? He’s just not afraid of team OLW, and to be honest neither would I.”

["Sleep Now in the Fire" by Rage Against the Machine plays and the lights go black. When the singer screams, green flame fireworks explode from the stage, and continue to burn. Paige jumps through the flame, and makes his way to the ring. He rolls inside, and raises his arm in the center of the ring.]

Clouds - “Now here’s a man that knows a thing or two about wrestling.”

Merchant - “Not as much as this guy, he’s fought in pretty much every style the wrestling world has to offer.”

[The opening guitar drones of "You Fail Me" by Converge play ominously over the PA. The venue is completely dark. The drums and screaming kick in, dropping the hammer and sending this song into a loud, crawling, evil dirge. As soon as that happens, Chris steps out from behind the curtain, dressed in torn and tattered black pants, black boots, and a sleeveless, black, torn and tattered black hooded ring jacket. His gaze never wavers from his opponent as he walks to the ring, oblivious to the fans and the noise. He enters the ring, takes off the jacket to reveal his enormous back tattoo, and gives his opponent the 1000 yard stare.]

Clouds - “You’re enamored by him, aren’t you?”

Merchant - “What’s not to like? He’s their heavyweight champ, isn’t he?”

Clouds - “Yes, but that aside I do not condone nor admire his wrestling tactics.”

Merchant - “Yeah, yeah.”

[With all men in the ring, team OLW in one corner and team WR in the other, Tessa Bradley steps into the center, microphone in hand.]

Bradley - “Ladies and Gentlemen! This next match is a Six Man.. Interfederation Elimination Match!”

[The fans cheer loudly.]

Bradley - “In this corner, we have the three men of Wyatt Connors!”

[Boos!]

Bradley - “Python!”

[Some cheers for the kid.]

Bradley - “And Cole Christenson! Together they are the Ole Lin boys, TEAM Oh elllllllllll DUBYA!”

[Mixed reactions arise from the crowd.]

Bradley - “And in this corner we have the team of “The Holy Terror’ Billyyy Deserati!”

[An over all good pop as Billy smiles and waves.]

Bradley - “The ‘Irish Fire’ Daviidd Paige!”

[Paige nods his head and tries to smile as wide as Billy, as the fans are silent.]

Bradley - “And CHRIS EGGERTON! Together they are TEAM DUUBBYYYAAA ARRH!”

[Equally as mixed of a reaction as Team OLW received.]

[With that, Tessa ducks out of the ring and the referee steps up.]

Merchant - “Alright so who’s out first?”

Clouds - “It looks like it’ll be Chris Egerton and Cole Christenson going at it first.”

[Both men step up to the middle where the referee begins giving them the low down on the rules, all the while Egerton is talkin’ a little smack to Cole. The fans are jeering, waiting for the match to begin as they watch both men step up to each other, Egerton looking up to the bigger man as he swings his words around. Eventually, realizing that both men don’t seem to give a damn as to what he has to say, the referee waves his hand for the bell.]

[Ding, Ding!]

Merchant - “Look at Egerton, absolutely no fear of the bigger man.”

[With that, Egerton immediately shoots a fist into the face of Cole, sending the big man back a step. Egerton swings for another, but is blocked and receives a taste of his own medicine from Cole, sending him back a step. Cole steps forward quickly and shoots out a palm strike, but Egerton ducks out of the way just in time, winding up right behind him.]

Clouds - “Wow with both men trading off on blows, Egerton is lucky to be standing, let alone being able to avoid that palm strike.”

Merchant - “Luck has nothing to do with it, Mike. It’s called, ‘skill’.”

[Cole quickly turns around, only to receive a stick kick to the ribs, followed by another to the knee and then another to the ribs. A couple of stiff punches to the face, and Cole is backed up into the ropes trying to cover his body. Egerton goes in for the grab, but steps right into an elbow strike from the big man that knocks him off his feet!]

Clouds - “Wow! What an elbow strike from Christenson!”

[Egerton is quick to roll over and onto his feet, but Christenson is equally as quick to stay on top of him and lock him up and toss him with the pop of his hips, nailing a beautiful belly to belly suplex.]

Merchant - “He just threw ‘em like a rag doll. Get up Egerton!”

[Egerton is slow to his feet but Cole is there to lend him a helping hand as he grabs a fist full of hair and pulls him up. Egerton breaks his grasp, however, and gives him a stiff boot to the mid section which doubles him over. With the big man doubled over, Egerton wastes NO time in dropping him with the biggest European uppercut these fans have ever seen!]

[SMAACK!]

[OOH!]

[Cole falls flat on his back, as Egerton catches his breath.]

Clouds - “Ohh man! That was one huge European uppercut!”

Merchant - “That a’ boy Chris!”

[Egerton glances to his corner, seeing Deserati pleading for the tag, but simply shakes his head before he begins laying in the stomps on the bigger man. Cole eventually rises to his knees and is able to push Egerton away from him, but Egerton quick on his feet hit’s the opposite ropes and hit’s a running knee lift in to the face of the big man, knocking him back down to the mat!]

Clouds - “Things aren’t looking too well for Christenson, he’d better make the tag to his team mates before things get out of hand.”

[Sensing this, Cole tries desperately to roll away from the stomps of Egerton, he gets a mere few feet away before Egerton drops an elbow onto the back of his head and quickly locks on a camel clutch, RIGHT in front his team mates who are stretching their hands out for the tag.]

Merchant - “Get ‘em Chris! Don’t let him make the tag!”

Clouds - “Cole is soo close to making the tag, you got to reach for it Cole!”

[Cole is desperately reaching his hand out for the tag, a few inches from his partner Pythons hand, but Egerton keeps things difficult by pulling back even further on the hold. Cole is yelling out in pain, before he finally musters his strength and over powers the smaller Egerton, making the tag to the young Python!]

Merchant - “Noo!”

Clouds - “Tag made to Python and Python is on top of Egerton nailing a running clothesline out of the gate to break the hold!”

[With the hold broken, Cole roles out onto the apron as Egerton rolls back up to his feet, only to be met with a boot to the gut and his head driven into the mat by a quick DDT from Python. Python raises his hands high into the air for the fans, who give a nice pop.]

Merchant - “Show boatin’ SOB!”

[Python is quick to follow up though, as he leans over to grab Egerton. However, Chris has different thoughts as he shoots two fingers straight into his eyes, sending him staggering back. The breathing room is all Egerton needs to get to his feet and boot Python in the stomach. Egerton steps in and grips Python’s arm, whipping him hard into the opposing ropes. Python bounces off them and comes charging back, only to be broken in half with a tilt-to-whirl back breaker!]

Merchant - “That’s what you get, Python!”

Clouds - “Python did nothing wrong, Tim. It was Egerton who used the underhanded jab to the eyes to gain the advantage and now the poor kid is almost broken in half.”

[Egerton pulls Python to his feet and nails a couple of stiff chops to the chest before nailing a double underhook suplex that shakes the ring. With Python down Egerton steps over to his corner and points to Deserati before making the tag to the excitement of Billy. Billy quickly ducks under the ropes but Egerton places a hand on his chest and holds him back for a second. With Billy watching, Egerton walks over to Python who has rolled on to his stomach, and stomps him RIGHT on the back of the head, smashing his face into the mat!]

[BOO!]

[The referee is quick to get into the face of Egerton who shrugs it off and ducks under