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TWOStars Presents: A Decade of Destruction - Preshow

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Am disappoint, son
Senior Moderator
The TWOstars HD logo appears on screen, as an imposing voice informs us:

"The following program is a post watershed production, it will contain scenes and story lines not suitable for children and some of the content may also be unacceptable to other viewers. This program may also contain strobe lighting effects."


“Carve Me An Edge” kicks in for the first time in a looooong time, as the camera gives us a great view of the arena for the evening…

… before dissolving seamlessly to the crowd filing into the illuminated London Olympic Stadium…

The production truck once again works it’s magic and heads inside the arena, the camera panning over the stadium and across to our panel for this evening’s preshow.

JM: Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I’m Josh Matthews, and it’s my pleasure to welcome you to two monumental nights of action right here at the beautiful Olympic Stadium in London, England! Thank you for joining us as the best and brightest stars of TWOStars come together in commemoration of a Decade of Destruction!! We’ve got two fantastic shows lined up for you good folks at home, and I’m joined by our wonderful panel to give you all the lowdown on what you expect from this celebration of all things TWOStars! Joining me first, a stalwart of the TWOStars women’s division, the Geordie Princess, Lindy Rose!

The camera moves to Lindy, to find her unwrapping a large pork pie with a look of hunger in her eye.

LR: How’s it going, pet? It’s good to be back.

JM: Along with our very own Work Experience Boy, Steve Austin!

The camera moves over to WEB, who gives a shy smile and a little wave.

WEB: Hi folks, glad to be here.

JM: And our final panellist for this evening, the Wasabi Warrior himself, Tonkatsuman “Lightning” Kaijin!

Kaijin speaks something in Japanese into his little silver translator box, which whirrs and clicks into life.

TLK: It is there in here tonight and a nice person with you my absolute joy. But the nightmare from Neo Tokyo was a journey bit of, I'm glad ... come here back in my time now.

JM: Ummm…okay. Well thanks for joining us Kaijin. We’ve got one hell of a show for you folks, but from what I’m being told we’ve got something happening backstage…


Am disappoint, son
Senior Moderator
The cameras cut to Christopher Ryan Eagles, who is just arrived from the building and holding the brief case like it is a part of his body. He immediately dashes to the production truck and knocks on their door. He patiently waits as he finally gets answered to.

Random Employee: “Oh hey Mr. Eagles.”

CRE: “I have not much time so I need a favour.”

RE: “What’s that?”

CRE: “I’m cashing this in right now against Matt Denton, so I need you to tell the rest of the crew to get the cameras ready as I beat Denton for the belt.”

RE: “Are you sure you can do that?”

CRE: “Yes, that man is going to kill this company unless someone steps in to stop his tracks. That man is going to be me. I am saving this company from that piece of s**t.”


CRE: “So tell your men and woman to get that motion rolling so we can finally see the cancer at work to win the big one and become TWOStars saviour from the clutches of Matt!”


Lawyer: (From Behind) “Ahemm, that won’t be happening at all.”

Eagles turns around to see a man in a suit with two guards in riot gear at either side to protect him. Matt’s initials are engraved on their suit as the masked guards monitor Eagles movement. The man looks smug as Chris confronts him.

CRE: “Who the hell are you?”

Lawyer: “My name doesn’t matter for a less intelligent being like yourself but I am working on behalf of our general manager Matthew Kennedy Denton.”


Lawyer: “I am his top lawyer, and when I mean top I mean that I am the best he’s got. Now with regards to that case of yours well it just isn’t happening, ever.”

CRE: (Laughing) “Nice try you little Oxford *****.”

The lawyer withdraws a letter that has Eagles name printed on it with black ink.

Lawyer: “I think you really need to read this….Now.”

Eagles snatches the letter off him and opens it up. He begins to read as he goes to speak the words out loud.

CRE: “Dear Christopher Ryan Eagles;

As acknowledged by the company you are currently the holder of the Gold Rush Brief Case and declared your cash in for these shows. However you forgot to read the fine print of your contract that stipulates that and I quote “contract to last until May 2015 unless exceptional circumstances arise such as closure or suspension to which in this the contract lasts before final duration is called by the general manager of TWOStars.

As of day after End of Days legally final duration was called for this night and the following night. Therefore your declared cash in is no longer contractually obliging and further more as you read this on the night….Your Gold Rush cash in Brief Case is now no longer valid.”


CRE: “Any attempt to use the brief case on these nights will result in your removal from your match with Craig Van Dam and to you being escorted out of the building. The main event scheduled for the title for night two goes ahead as planned.

Signed………Matthew Kennedy Denton, General manager of TWOStars.”

Lawyer: “No more shenanigans now.”

Eagles is crushed. He drops to his knees as he can’t believe what has went down. His big chance at the big one is taken away by legal procedures and not even a match. The lawyer keeps smirking as he walks away leaving Eagles to deal with the fact Denton has taken away his title shot.

Eagles looks at the case and begins to have a fit, slamming it down on the ground and stomping it. He goes to a nearby table with food and drink and lifts to smash it to the ground. The cancer has lost it. He then punches the wall multiple times before getting the brief case and stomping it hard enough to crack it ope. Eagles Bends down leaning against the wall looking at his contract, biting his lip as he struggles to keep his emotions in.

CRE: “I was going to be the man….Finally to get respect…”

Eagles rips the contract in two as the cameras fade out.


Am disappoint, son
Senior Moderator
We jump back to our panel for the evening, Josh staring on in amazement as Lindy swallows an entire footlong kielbasa without chewing.

TLK: As my life ah!! I such phallic food, have never seen the power consumption!

It’s pretty clear that the team have been informed that they’re live on camera, and Josh quickly takes on a more professional attitude, turning to address the camera as Lindy quietly burps.

JM: Well we’re barely underway here folks and it already seems like Chris Eagles isn’t in for the kind of night he expected! And speaking of the unexpected, we have a main event for you tonight that personally I never thought I’d see. We finally get to see the Primetime Playas, Jones and Gilmore, face off against the Dark Alliance of Boyo and Sickness!

WEB: It’s definitely a dream match, Josh! I’ve been watching TWOStars since I was a kid…well, more of a kid, and the my two favourite tag teams of all time are The Dark Alliance and the PTP. Luckily I got chance to work with the PTP back when Jones and Gilmore were our tag team champions, but this is really a dream come true for me to see them face off with Sickness and Boyo!

JM: I’m sure you’re not the only person who feels that way Steve, but the most difficult question is who is going to win this match? Lindy?

LR: Now you’re asking questions, pet! I don’t think there’s much to pick between either of these teams, they both work together so well.

WEB: It’s got to come down to this being a submissions match. If this match didn’t completely depend on making your opponent submit, then I’d happily pick the PTP to take the pinfall, but the very idea that they have to make Sickness submit? Somehow I just can’t see that happening.

TLK: Illness, Jones and Gilmore can be submitted Boyo make, it is a really tough son of a bitch, disease, completely different story, completely.

Lindy, WEB and Josh all look at each other somewhat bemused, as Tonkatsuman sadly switches his little translator box to the off position.

JM: Well rather than just talking about how much punishment Sickness can take, how about we take a trip back in time to show you just what it takes to defeat Sickness is a submission match? Let’s take you all the way back to World War 2008 when Sickness challenged The Executioner Edward Samson for the Triple Crown Championship in an “I Quit” Match…


Am disappoint, son
Senior Moderator
World War 2008

We cut to ringside where the ring ropes are being taken down and replaced with the interwoven barbed wire.

JS: Next up is the main event, and this is arguably the biggest match we have ever had on TWOStars.

PH: Arguably?

JS: There have been matches of the same magnitude in the past, but in my opinion none with more on the line. Sickness will either finally say he has taken more pain than he could cope with, or he will win the big one, the TWOStars Triple Crown of belts.

JS: This has been going on from since Samson and Thorp first joined TWOStars, they quickly made enemies here and none more dangerous than Sickness and The Dark Alliance.

PH: What about Aaron Winter and Famous? The General Manager and the United States Champion!

JS: What’s the worst thing Winter can do? Fire him! Sickness would happily tie him down and torture him for weeks.

PH: Yeah, for once you may be right.

Suddenly the lights drop down and are replaced by an ultraviolet spread. The black light creates an even more menacing look to the now erected barbed wire. The crowd are silent as they observe the almost sentient malevolence emanating from the ring.

TC: Ladies and gentlemen the following contest has no time limit and is the no rope barbed wire match for the TWOStars Triple Crown Championship!

The crowd cheer, a respectful noise that clashes horribly with the razor sharp wire surrounding the ring.

TC: This match will be concluded ONLY by a submission, either tappout or verbal. If either contestant is rendered unconscious the referee will revive them and the match will continue. This match will not be stopped by excessive blood loss or injury, not even at the decision of the referee.

JS: This is going to be a bloodbath.

TC: Introducing first

‘Down With The Sickness’ starts to play over the arena sound system as a video starts to play on the TWOTron.

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TC: Introducing first, the challenger. He weighs in tonight at 320 pounds and represents The Dark Alliance, he is the unsubmitted, the hardcore icon, the Tsar of Pain, he is SIIIICKNEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!

To a HUGE explosion of cheers The Dark Alliance Mini Monster steps out from behind the curtain, his white T Shirt stained with weeks old blood and his denim shorts already look like they have been washed in a barbed wire bath. Around is waist he has both tag belts fastened.

JS: Look at the expression on the face of Sickness, he is ready for this match.

PH: How the hell do you get ready for a match like this? Barbed wire! No pinfalls! Submissions ONLY!!! No Joey Styles I don’t see how you can prepare for something like this.

The Mini Monster slowly stalks down the ramp towards the ring, his eyes fixed on the gleaming wire. The cheering fans are unable to distract the monster as he reaches the bottom of the ramp. One front row fan pings a balloon at Sickness which just bounces off his head without getting a single reaction from the number one contender.

JS: I guess he’s a Samson fan then.

PH: While I normally don’t like disrespectful fans, that guy I can cope with. I just wish it was a hammer rather than a balloon he hit Sickness with.

The Millennium Warrior circles the ring, a grin slowly beginning to show on his face. Sickness reaches the steel steps and slowly ascends until he reaches the barbed wire strands. The Tag Team Champion puts out his hand and gently stabs his thumb on one of the barbed wire spikes before turning and showing the blood drop on his thumb.

JS: I guess Sickness is proving the wire is real.

PH: And dammit, if we don’t see that by the end of the match anyway I will eat my, and your, hat.

Sickness clambers into the ring between two of the strands of wire and starts to loosen his shoulders and the lights go back to normal and the music stops.

JS: Listen to the fans here Paul E, they love Sickness and are NOT afraid of showing it.

PH: I admit that this is the loudest I have heard pro wrestling fans in a long time Joey Styles, a long time indeed.

As the crowd start to quieten down somewhat a figure dressed in a slightly shabby suit steps out onto the stage, a gold belt strewn over each shoulder and the crowd start to boo.

PH: now these people are just ignorant.

Slowly Lucas Thorp takes a slightly battered parchment out of his pocket and unrolls it. The Lord Justice raises a microphone to his cracked lips and starts to speak.

LT: Ladies and gentlemen, I am here to pass judgement.

The crowds’ vehemence shocks even Thorp into silence for a second, the booing is beyond anything that Samson has been exposed to yet.

LT: Yes indeed, I get it, you hate that my Edward will ruin your heroes reputation and record. Well tough.

As Thorp just stands staring at the crowd they slowly quieten down.

LT: Thank you. As I was saying, I am here to pass judgement on YOU, Sickness, the man in the ring right now.

The camera angle switches to one showing a bemused looking Sickness as Thorp continues his pronouncement.

LT: In relation to the crimes of Disturbing The Peace, Being Drunk And Disorderly, Crimes Against Nature and Generally Bringing the Sport of Pro Wrestling Into Disrepute; I find you guilty as charged. The sentence is Samson!

Then the entire arena is plunged into strobe lighting, black and white in colouring as 'The Line Begins To Blur' kicks off.


From backstage Edward comes out to stand next to Thorp, a title belt around his waist, and holds a noose up, letting it hang for all to understand his intentions. He doesn't move until Thorp is finished re-rolling the verdict and has already started down the ramp.

JS: I’m sure at least one of those isn’t an actual crime.

PH: Are you a lawyer?

JS: Well no but…

PH: No buts about it, you don’t know about the law, Thorp does.

As the fans boo The Executioner and his ‘handler’ slowly marching down to the ring. Neither man pays little attention to the audience, Samson’s eyes constantly on the ring, and his noose at his side.

JS: I’ve just realised what’s different about Edward Samson, the champion is wearing a leather jerkin. I guess the barbed wire worries him more than him or that worm let on.

PH: It’s just a fashion statement Joey Styles, what do you know about fashion?

PH: More than you it seems Paul.

Samson climbs up the ring steps, turns and for a final time holds up the noose, yelling out to the audience for blood he so desperately wants, drops the noose and climbs into the ring, carefully avoiding the razor sharp prongs. Meanwhile Lucas Thorp will roll into the ring, not daring to interrupt the actions of his creature.

As Societies Saviour steps into the ring, the strobe lighting stops.
Thorp makes wild and over the top "that's my boy" motions as Edward lumbers forwards so him and the challenger are face to face. As the fans cheer in expectation Samson removes the belt he is wearing and hands it to the referee. Charles Robinson shows the gold to Sickness before raising it up to show the live crowd.

As the two men circle each other the noise from the crowd increases even further, the fans know that one way or the other history will be made tonight; either Sickness will finally win ‘The Big One’ or he will submit.

JS: Listen to the fans Paul E, this is what TWOStars is about! The excitement and the drama.

PH: And this is as tense as it gets, look at Edward Samson, you can see the worry on the face of the champion. He knows he has a battle more difficult than any that has ever been seen in a squared circle before. And Sickness, even his eyes show a touch of fear.

JS: And when Sickness is afraid you know that something big is happening!

The referee signals for the bell to start the match.


Slowly Sickness walks into the centre of the ring, meeting The Executioner there. The two men just stare into each others eyes, searching for a weakness they can exploit. Samson quickly slaps Sickness across the face with an open hand, drawing blood from Sickness’ lip and a gasp of surprise from the crowd.

JS: Well, Lucas promised us that Sickness would bleed, seems he was right.

PH: I have no doubt the bloodshed will get worse.

JS: Yeah, that’s a bit of a given really.

Sickness holds one hand up to his mouth and wipes the bit of blood from his face and slowly licks the red liquid off. Samson takes another step towards Sickness, the height of the Executioner dwarfing his foe.

PH: Samson showing how unimpressed, how unintimidated he is by the reputation of Sickness.

JS: A well deserved reputation Paul, Sickness has been toe to toe with some of the greatest this business has to offer and won. Barry Gower, Deadman, The Crippler, Andy Gee, Draven Cage, Evil Gringo, Fill, The Incredible Holt, Craig Van Dam, MBR, the list goes on and on.

PH: I notice you didn’t mention Edward Samson. Sickness has shown over the last few weeks a total and utter inability to measure up to the Triple Crown Champion.

Back in the ring the action finally starts as both men simultaneously start to throw punches at each other. The strength of Edward Samson starts to rock Sickness backwards, though the mini monster remains on his feet. Special Ed grabs the left arm of the challenger and whips him towards the barbed wire to a sudden gasp from the crowd.

Just before he gets to the wire Sickness manages to pull himself to a halt. As the crowd cheers Sickness nods at them and taps his head as if to say ‘I’m crazy, not stupid’.

JS: Edward Samson trying to get brutal early on, though Sickness was ready and able to counter.

PH: That was hardly a counter, he just stopped moving.

Sickness turns back to the champion and the two men slowly start to circle each other. Swiftly they lock up, Sickness twists under the arm of Samson and locks a side wristlock on the Executioner. The big man grunts in pain and tries to grab Sickness with his right hand, but the Dark Alliance charter member just uses the joint lock to manoeuvre around to keep himself away from the grasping hand of Samson.

JS: Sickness proving that size doesn’t mean better.

PH: You keep telling yourself that Styles.

The Mini Monster lets go of Samson’s wrist with one hand and uses the point of his elbow to force Eds arm to bend so to change the side wristlock into a hammerlock. Again Samson tries to grab Sickness with his free hand, but the smaller man is easily able to avoid being grabbed. Samson staggers forwards, taking Sickness with him, the Triple Crown champion puts his leg out as if trying to get a rope break, but at the last minute realises what he is doing and pulls his leg back in.

JS: Edward Samson nearly made a rookie mistake there Paul E.

PH: Well this kind of match isn’t exactly an everyday occurrence Joey Styles. Both men are new to these barbed wire bouts.

JS: Except for the ones Sickness has had in Japan. The ones mentioned on ‘The Best Of Boyo’ DVD, the DVD you got me for my birthday.

PH: I never saw it, I gave you my free tester copy.

Looking around in desperation for a way out of the hold Edward notices Lucas Thorp signalling to him and takes the advice of the Lord Justice. Taking advantage of his mass Samson starts to run backwards, pushing both men towards the barbed wire, Sickness first.
Sensing the danger the Mini Monster releases the hold and sidesteps out of the way, leaving the bigger man to continue his run at the barbed wire. A yell from Lucas Thorp alerts Samson to the danger and the Triple Crown champion stops his movement moments away from the razor sharp barbed wire, to the audiences’ obvious displeasure.

JS: Edward Samson saved by Thorp once more, and look at the worm grasping onto those belts for dear life. He must be worried about losing those belts tonight.

PH: He’s just trying to avoid getting blood on them Styles.

JS: Gee, altruistic.

Sickness shakes his head and slowly licks his lips as the Executioner walks slowly back towards the centre of the ring. A ‘Lets go Sickness’ chant starts to echo around the arena as once again the two men lock up. Samson again uses his superior strength to Irish whip The Sick One towards the barbed wire.

PH: Hahah, Sickness isn’t slowing down!

JS: He’s speeding up. OH MY GOD!

The challenger runs at the wire and dives over the top of the sharp material before crashing down on the outside of the ring, right onto the belt holding Lucas Thorp and the crowd EX-f*cking-PLODE!

PH: HEY! Sickness should be disqualified, he’s attacked an innocent bystander.

JS: Firstly it’s a no disqualification style of match. Secondly Lucas is FAR from innocent. Finally, my God that was one hell of an explosive and athletic manoeuvre!

As EMTs check on the downed Lucas Thorp Sickness starts to get to his feet, a manic grin plastered across his slender face. Inside the ring Edward Samson is holding his head in shock, he can’t believe the move that Sickness just pulled off! The Sick One waves at the Champ, angering the monster.

JS: Lucas Thorp being taken away on a stretcher, this match is between Samson, Sickness and the strands of razor sharp barbed wire.

PH: And don’t forget Boyo.

JS: What?! Boyo isn’t at the arena, he’s looking for Twiggie.

The Dead Eyed Killer takes a step or two backwards and indicates he will stay back for Sickness to get into the ring. The Dark Alliance monster slowly ascends the steel ringsteps before carefully climbing into the ring.

JS: The eyes of Edward Samson are blazing in hatred and fury, taking out Thorp was a smart move in one way, but one hell of a mistake in another.

PH: An angry Executioner is the last thing you want to deal with.

JS: Lock up. Armdrag from Sickness, Edward Samson is grounded. Sickness keeping hold of the arm and locking in an armbar. Sickness releasing oohhhhhhh! Nasty kick to the head.

PH: Listen to those bloodthirsty idiots in the crowd cheering Sickness for a downright nasty and illegal move! He could get TWOStars shut down by the Athletics Committee for stuff like that.

JS: But barbed wire is fine?

Sickness shambles over to the barbed wire and nods at the crowd, who promptly burst into cheers again. As Special Ed starts to get to his feet Sickness races over and lands a boot to the face of the current champion, sending him crashing back down to the mat. The Sick One spots his chance and locks a Sicknote onto Ed Samson, twisting around onto his back so the leg scissors are at full effectiveness.

JS: Is this it? The first submission could be the last one!

PH: What about the wristlock, hammerlock and armbar? Are they not submission moves now?

JS: They are controlling holds Paul, while they could be used to make you submit our wrestlers are far too resilient to end a match by those moves. A controlling hold is used to wear down and, well, control your foe.

Sickness suddenly releases the Sicknote and gets up to his knees, a disturbing grin on his face. As Samson groans in pain The Sick One slowly raises his right arm into the air, a sign of confidence that makes the crowd cheer on their chosen wrestler. Sickness slowly bends over (giving the camera behind him a cheeky wink as he does so) and drags Samson up by his mask, getting the bigger man up to his knees.

PH: Great, Sickness can’t win fair and square so he’s blinding Edward Samson with his own mask. That’s dirty and cheap.

JS: Like those girls I saw you with at the bar after the last show?

PH: Yeah exac.. HEY, Mercedes and Chardonnay are far from cheap.

JS: But you admit to them being dirty?

With a sudden flourish Sickness tears the mask off of the head of The Executioner, Samson’s face reddened from the lack of oxygen from the Sicknote. The Dark Alliance monster pulls back his arm and throws the mask into the crowd where an overweight fan catches it and shows off to his friends.

PH: That’s gonna be on Ebay by tomorrow morning.

The exhausted Edward Samson struggles to get to his feet, Sickness helps him up and spins him around so the two men are face to face. The Sick One grins at Samson and boots the big man in the stomach and

JS: STUNNER! Sickness is going for the Cross Infection!

The Dead Eyed Killer stagger backwards towards the wire, but at the last moment catches himself with what he is about to do and struggles to keep his feet, arms flailing about like a windmill. Edward takes a step forwards just in time for Sickness to land another kick to the stom… no! The champ catches the foot of Sickness as he tries to set up the DDT half of The Cross Infection.

PH: I’ve been waiting years for someone to do this…

The Executioner stares Sickness in the eye for a second before sweeping the left leg from out under Sickness. As The Sick One crashes to the floor Samson grabs his left leg so now he is holding both of Sickness’ legs.

JS: Oh no.

The defending champion hooks the shins of Sickness under his armpits and falls backwards using his knees as a fulcrum to catapult Sickness chest first into the exposed barbed wire to a huge reaction of surprise from the fans. The camera zooms in as Sickness thrashes about in the wire, the razor sharp barbs tearing bloody furrows in his arms and chest, tearing blood covered holes in his t shirt.

PH: YES YES YES!!! Hahahahaha, so much for Sickness being ‘the stronger man’. He claimed he would be the easy victor, instead he’s been turned into Samson’s bitch.

JS: Easy victor? Sickness admitted he was scared by this match, he’s been as humble as he can… given he’s a psychopath.

PH: Details details. Edward Samson is moving in for the kill, he’s going to make sure he retains his belts.

The Executioner grabs the back of Sickness’ now blood covered (rather than just stained) T Shirt and drags the mini monster backwards off of the wire and to his back on the canvas, a fine mist of blood following him down.

JS: Oh my God! A chunk of Sickness’ shoulder has been left on the barbed wire, ladies and gentlemen this is only going to get bloodier. If you have children watching PLEASE be aware of the level of brutality on show.

For a brief moment Sickness writhes on the canvas before the Angel of Hatred drags him back up to a vertical base, leaving an almost ‘blood angel’ smeared on the mat. Edward hooks the leg of Sickness while tossing his left arm over his shoulder, The Executioner turns slightly to align his back with the barbed wire.

PH: This shows how brutal a barbed wire match can be, even a suplex has extra implications!

Samson starts to lift up The Sick One, but Sickness again shows his superior technical skills and reverses the move, pulling The Executioner down into a roll up. The Winter Warrior releases the pin before the referee even moves to remind him of the rules and starts to land hard right hands onto the head of the Triple Crown Champion, droplets of blood spattering his face.

JS: Fantastic reversal from Sickness, he knows that even with his abnormal strength he can’t trade blows with Samson.

PH: Edward Samson is a freak of nature, pure and simple. He can dish our more punishment than anyone else I have ever seen. Ask Draven Cage!

JS: And that’s what this match is all about, and its one hell of a cliché, but can the unstoppable force beat the immoveable object?

PH: The current champion is here to stay Styles, and that’s all you need to know.

JS: But this isn’t just about the submission and the championship Paul E, remember that pride is on the line here. Edward Samson is desperate to prove his win in the Elimination Chamber wasn’t a fluke, and Sickness wants to walk away having proven he is worthy to hold those three belts. Sickness has NEVER won a world title in any federation he has worked for.

PH: The loser.

The Mini Monster stands up and raises one hand in the air, fist clenched, as the fans cheer him gaining the upper hand. The sole remaining member of The Dark Alliance grabs Special Ed by the hair and drags him up to a vertical base. Sickness screams to the crowd, an inarticulate sound that echoes around the arena. Samson is swiftly hoisted upon the shoulders of the Sick One and in a fluid movement is thrown down into the path of the ascending knee of Sickness, the impact sending him flying backwards and crashing on the mat as the crowd erupt in cheers.

JS: COMA! COMA! COMA! Sickness has hit The Coma on the Executioner.

PH: BUT, the Coma leads to a pin and a pin doesn’t count in this match Joey Styles. Only a submission will do.

JS: I know that, and Sickness is obviously aware as well.

The former tag champion takes a second to remove the tattered shreds of his T shirt, the blood sodden garment almost peeling off of his chest. The crowd noise subsides a little as they take in the sight of his torn open chest, the blood still seeping from the ragged holes.

PH: OK, that makes me feel ill.

JS: Those cuts are gaping Paul, Sickness will need stitches after this.

PH: I just meant his naked torso, the cuts don’t bother me Styles, and I ran ECW.

JS: Oh you humanitarian.

The SickStar presses his right hand against his chest causing the blood to bubble up against his palm and fingers before slowly wiping the blood across his face, a crimson smear colours his normally pale face as he looks down on the barely moving champion. For the second time is as many minutes Sickness grabs the hair of The Executioner and drags him to his feet before hoisting him onto his shoulders.

JS: Sickness ready for a second Coma, wait a minute! He’s walked over to the barbed wire!

PH: Sickness isn’t going for a Coma, he’s going to toss Samson onto the wire!

Realising his predicament Special Ed starts to wiggle off of the shoulders of Sickness, the blood making it easier to slide away. Edward manages to get to his feet, but starts to stumble. Seeing his chance Sickness places his hand on the chest of the Triple Crown champion and shoves him backwards! As Edward falls back into the wire the crowd explode into cheering, the look of agony on the face of TWOStars newest monster is all they wanted from the day! The Eater of Sin falls forwards onto his knees, breathing heavily.

JS: This is becoming a match like no other Paul E.

PH: And with two men like no others!

Lucas’ monster slowly removes his top as Sickness is playing up to the crowd.

JS: OH MY GOD! Look at the cut, Edward Samson has been sliced open.

PH: And while our champion…

JS *interrupting*: Our champion?

PH: yes, OUR champion. As I was saying, and while our champion is in agony, his tender flesh ripped open for infections to get in Sickness is showing off to the crowds. Look at them lapping up his act, honestly the ‘chest thump’ was lame when Shane McMahon did it, Sickness is worse.

JS: Edward Samson is slowly getting to his feet, and boy oh boy does Sickness look surprised.

PH: Hahah, I love seeing shock on his stupid face. Sickness has spent years being the man who takes whatever is thrown at him and gets up smiling. Now Edward Samson, Triple Crowd Champion and Scourge of the Unclean has come to claim that spot!

JS: Scourge of the Unclean?! What the f*ck?

PH: Did you just say something?

JS: Nope.

The Executioner walks up to the now serious Sickness, blood starting to flow down Edwards back in a very visible way. As the crowd noise turns into a hush of anticipation the two men start to shout at each other, anger clearly visible on both their faces. The Sick One throws a punch at Samson, but the Executioner blocks the strike and responds with a hard knife edge chop to the chest of the challenger. Around a third of the crowd WHOOOO, the others give out a groan of sympathy as blood splatters out of the chest wounds of Sickness, droplets spraying over Edward Samson.

JS: My God! Edward Samson looks like a barbarian chieftain mid battle.

PH: Blood spattered and psychopathic, what’s not to like there I ask you all?

JS: Which superstar are you talking about Paul?

PH: Edward Samson, as well you know.

The Dead Eyed Killer grabs the arm of Sickness and Irish whips the dark Alliance stalwart towards the wire, at the last minute Sickness seems to realise what’s happening and tries to protect himself by twisting around to his back takes the impact of the steel fangs of the barbed wire rather than his already torn chest. As the 230 pounds of Sickness hit the already stressed barbed wire strands the top two give up the ghost and snap under the strain, sending The Sick one crashing to the outside in a rain of blood and twisted metal.

JS: OH MY GOD! Quickly, get someone out here now! Ladies and gentlemen I apologise for what you are seeing, the barbed wire had been bought and tested as top grade. No way should this have happened.

PH: Here come EMTs and ring crew to remove the flailing barbed wire. Joey styles, that has to be it surely? Not even general manager Aaron Winter would want this match to go on now!

JS: You would think not Paul, one side of the ring is missing wire totally, and Sickness has been torn open so badly that he is still bleeding from his chest. This match needs to end.

PH: And yet we both know it cant! If Winter allows it to end then he makes a mockery of this entire situation, of this being THE defining moment of one mans career, and he makes TWOStars out to be a company ran by liars. No Joey Styles, I don’t think this will end now.

JS: But look at Sickness!

PH: If Sickness has had enough he can submit, this match doesn’t have to go on if he jut says a few words.

JS: And is he too proud to say them? If so then it could be the end of his career.

In side the ring Edward Samson stands still, the blood dribbling down his back vivid against his pale skin. Slowly Societies Saviour lifts his clenched fist up to his throat, extends his thumb and pulls it across his throat as those in the crowd actually still looking at the ring start to boo the confident champion.

JS: The medical team are still looking over Sickness, that landing could have caused damage potentially more dangerous than the barbed wire.

PH: That’s true Joey Styles, a head bump could end a wrestler career quicker than anything else. A cut, no matter how bad, can be stitched up, but brain damage can be done in an instant.

On the outside of the ring Sickness slowly starts to get to his feet as the crowd start a ‘LETS GO SICKNESS’ chant. The EMTs back away as the blood covered Sick One finally stands up straight, a slightly manic grin on his ascetic face.

JS: Oh my God! Look at that!

The camera focuses in on the chest of Sickness, a wide gash in his chest, the sides of the wound almost an inch apart. The Dark Alliance member indicates to one of the medical staff who passes over a small tube.

PH: Is that superglue?

JS: Superglue was used extensively in the Vietnam war to seal battle wounds Paul, or did you not know that? Sickness is very sensibly stopping the bleeding until the match is over.

Sickness squeezes glue from the tube onto his wound and holds the sides together so it takes, moments later a paramedic wraps surgical tape around the wound. The Sick One smiles up at the champion and slowly climbs back into the ring, avoiding the rogue strands of wire.

PH: I admit to being surprised that Sickness is not only ready to continue the match, but he’s smiling! For the first time I believe that he has a chance to win, Sickness just isn’t human.

Slowly both men walk towards each other and start to circle. In a flurry of movement the two wrestlers lock up in a collar and elbow tie up. Samson moves around and gets Sickness into a hammerlock, but the Sick One reverses and releases the hold in order to hit a chop to the bloodied back of The Equaliser.

JS: Ouch! Now that has to hurt.

PH: Samson is immune to pain Styles.

JS: Then what’s that expression of agony on his face for?

PH: To throw Sickness off of his game plan and to misguide the weak minded fools.

JS: So Darth Samson thinks Sickness can see his face through his skull?

PH: Yes! No! Yes! Shut up!

Special Ed staggers forwards a couple of paces and Sickness follows up with a kick to the back of his knees, sending the bigger man crashing to the floor, his back impacting on the mat and leaving a blood smear as the champ rolls around in pain as the crowd cheer their chosen one on.

JS: Sickness dragging Samson to his feet, hard right hand to the jaw of Samson and the bigger man is rocked. Second strike to the chin of Edward Samson and the champion is in trouble far too close to the ropes for his own good!

The SickStar lands a third and final blow to The Dead Eyed Killer and the champion falls backwards… right into the barbed wire! As the fans in the arena explode into cheers Samson struggles to get free, but the wire strands have wrapped around his arms, tying up the champion so that his every attempt to escape leads to him cutting his arms just that little bit more and within seconds the limbs of Samson are covered in shallow, bleeding cuts.

PH: This match should be stopped now! Edward Samson is incapacitated by the barbed wire, how the hell can Aaron Winter allow this to go on?

JS: If Samson has had enough he can submit, this match doesn’t have to go on if he jut says a few words!

PH: I knew you’d throw that back in my face.

Sickness walks up to the incapacitated Ed and grins down into the face of his foe, droplets of blood spattering down from the head of Sickness onto the bruised face of the champion.

PH: That son of a bitch is just mocking poor Samson now, does Sickness have no honour, no dignity?

Sickness closes the gap between his face and that of Samson, a snarl on the lips of the wounded Mini Monster. A swift kick from Edward hits the groin of The Sick One, doubling him over before he collapses into a heap on the floor. As Sickness writhes around in pain Charles Robinson gestures for some help getting the Triple Crown champion untangled from the barbed wire.

JS: And a kick to the groin is an honourable and dignified move now?

PH: It is against Sickness, last thing we need is him reproducing. That man fell into the gene pool, last thing we need is him polluting it any more.

JS: The ringside assistants are having quite a hard time freeing Edward Samson from the wire here Paul E, those barbs have caught well and good in his flesh.

PH: Thankfully we have a hot of people coming to the ring to help out. HEY! Is that Brett Banner holding those wire cutters?

JS: I believe so, and despite the circumstances it’s good to see one of our former champions at ringside.

As the bloody champion is finally released from the metallic strands the referee checks on Sickness, and having seen that both men are able to continue motions for the ring to be cleared so the match can continue.

JS: Both men getting a round of applause form the crowd Paul, I think the fans can see just how exhausted and wounded these two men are.

PH: But it doesn’t matter how much respect they get, this match won’t be won on respect. It will be won when one of these men just can’t take any more.

JS: And looking at them it could be either man!

Joey Styles has called it dead on, both champion and challenger are barely able to stay stood up, each man swaying gently from a combination of exhaustion and blood loss. Sickness throws a half hearted punch at Samson, the blow barely connecting. The Executioner responds with one even weaker than the one thrown by Sickness, but the impact staggers The Sick One slightly and the crowd groan in a collective sound of anguish! They can see the challenger so close to failing. And so can Edward Samson!


Samson lunges in using all his energy in a sudden movement in an attempt to land a knockout blow on Sickness, but with a move belaying his tiredness Sickness doges out of the way and gets behind the suddenly vulnerable champion.

JS: Sickness was faking! He knew he couldn’t beat Samson while he was trapped in the barbed wire, so Sickness took his chance to gather his energy and lure the champ into a trap!

From behind his foe Sickness swiftly wraps his left arm across the neck of Samson and grabs the right arm of Thorps Terror while placing his right arm under the right armpit and then behind the head of the champion. As Sickness pulls all the positions to lock in the Sicknote he leaps up and wraps his legs around the torso of Ed, the momentum dragging both men to the ground where the body scissors can do the most damage to Samson.


The Triple Crown Champion struggles to escape the finishing move of Sickness, but many people have fallen to The Sicknote and Sickness has by now learnt how to ensure anyone caught in its grip stays grounded.

PH: Edward needs to get to his feet, then he can crush Sickness backwards into the barbed wire around the ringposts!

JS: Yeah, all he has to do is get up, but that’s not looking likely Paul E.

Samson struggles against the hold, but to no avail and his struggles become weaker and weaker. Slowly his arm rises

PH: Don’t do it Edward!

And drops. The referee checks on Samson and waves over to the assistant on the outside (road agent and Hall of Famer Jimmy Redman) to bring over the smelling salts to help revive the now unconscious Samson.

JS: Sickness won’t be happy about this, the only way they can revive the champion is by unblocking his airways, and that means Sickness will have to release his hold.

Charles Robinson manages to get the message through to The Sick One who releases the Sicknote with a look of anger and annoyance, after all he nearly had this match won. Sickness gets to his feet and walks to one side of the ring, taking the chance to massage his right calf.

PH: Hahah, look at that! It worked, Edward Samson s reviving. Those smelling salts are fantastic thing.

JS: Referee Charles Robinson is asking Samson if he wants to go on, and if I were Samson then I would just give up now.

PH: And that’s why you’re not a wrestler, much less a champion.

JS: And what’s your excuse?

PH: I want to give everyone else a chance.

JS: Quick comeback, I grant you that.

PH: Your wife said the same about you.

JS: Now that’s just pathetic.

PH: An…

JS: DON’T even go there.

Edward Samson gets to his feet, slowly and slightly unsteadily, and The Sick One rushes in with a massive right hand that knocks The Executioner straight back down to the ground.

JS: Sickness with an upper mounted position just raining thunderous rights and lefts onto the head of Edward Samson. This is good strategy Paul E, the more weakened Samson is the more likely he is to give in.

As Samson’s head lolls backwards Sickness takes advantage of his weakness and alters his position, spinning around and applying an armbar on Societies Saviour. Edward screams out in agony, the pressure on his elbow joint slowly increasing as The Sick One strains with all the strength he has left. The arm of Samson comes up ready to tap


Suddenly the TWOTron bursts into life, on the screen Lucas Thorp can be seen staring down into the arena from a hospital bed.

LT: Edward! Edward listen to me.

The eyes of Samson fix on the screen and his cry of pain dies down as if he is hypnotised by Thorp.

LT: You’re the Triple Crown Champion Edward, you can beat a nobody like Sickness. Dig deep, and remember who you are! Fight Edward, fight!

As the TWOTron flickers again into an image of the in ring action The Executioner gives a roar and starts to climb to his feet, Sickness holding the armbar on with all his might. Samson manages to get to his knees, the pain evident on his face, and slowly climbs up onto his feet.

JS: My God! The strength of Edward Samson is incredible. Moments ago I thought he was going to submit, now he has gotten to his feet despite Sickness holding an armbar on!

PH: He’s not quite stood up yet though.

With a HUGE effort Edward Samson uses his free arm to get hold of Sickness before standing up straight, hoisting Sickness up into a powerbomb position as the crowd get to their feet.

JS: My God, the power of the champion is incredible!

The Dead Eyed killer slams the challenger to hi Triple Crown to the mat with such force that a cameraman on the apron falls to the floor! As the fans booing gets louder Edward Samson lifts Sickness up again and lands a second punishing powerbomb on the Dark Alliance monster.

PH: And a third, and a third! Come on Edward, third times a charm!!!

JS: Yea, the once, twice, three times a powerbomb…

The Executioner brings Sickness above his head for the third time and brings The Sick One down as hard as he can, the back of his head bouncing off of the mat as he is drilled down. Samson releases Sickness and indicates to the fans that ‘it’s over’.

PH: This is it, this is the end!

The Hooded Man rolls Sickness onto his front and slings the arms of Sickness over his knees, an old fashioned Camel Clutch is applied to the Native of Parts Unknown.

JS: Sickness is trapped in the Stocks, could this be the end for the challenger?

PH: YES! No more ‘I’ve never tapped out’, no more ‘I don’t submit’. This is the end of all the bullsh*t that is spouted by Sickness, this is the nadir of his life, of his career, The Executioner is the bane of The Dark Alliance!

JS: Don’t count your chickens Paul, look!

Slowly Sickness has managed to work his right arm out from where it was trapped, the sweat and blood on both men lubricating the escape. Bracing his hand on the mat Sickness manages to bring his knees in so he is in a crouching position. With a burst of energy Sickness manages to throw the Executioner forwards over his head, Samson lands face first into a loose strand of barbed wire while Sickness just collapses, his energy reserves depleted.

JS: Edward Samson quickly rolling away from that wire, those barbs have opened a nasty cut under his eye. A good counter from Sickness.

PH: But he can’t take advantage, look at him! Sickness is an immobile, bleeding lump of flesh, that may well have been his last move tonight.

JS: The champion has gotten to his feet, but what’s he got hold of Paul?

PH: Looks like… a strand of the barbed wire Joey Styles.

The Executioner staggers over to the prone Sickness and again gets him into position for The Stocks, but this time Special Ed places the barbed wire across the throat of Sickness and pulls backwards on it, the barbs biting into the skin of his neck and letting blood start to leak out and down his neck.

JS: This is just barbaric! Those wire points could open up the jugular of Sickness.

PH: As we have both agreed before, it doesn’t take much for Sickness to end this match!

Sickness stains to get out of the hold, but Samson has learnt from the last attempt and has the arms of Sickness well and truly trapped. The Dead Eyed Killer pulls back a little harder and Sickness let out a cry of pain, the sound shocking many of the nearby fans into silence.

JS: That was a sound of pure agony Paul E.

PH: I don’t think Sickness can hold on anymore, this is it, all he has to do is say the words to Charles Robinson and this is over!

Sickness strains for another second before going limp, all fight gone from his body. The official quickly checks on Sickness before gesturing for Redman to bring in the smelling salts. Edward releases the hold he had on Sickness and retreats a few feet away so that Charles Robinson can revive the unconscious Mini Monster.

JS: Well no matter what the result is the fans know that they have witnessed a match of epic scale, both men have had to be revived, both men have bled and both men have handed out unfathomable amounts of punishment to the other.

PH: But still one man must fall Styles, and I think that Samson is ready to be the one to push over his foe.

As Sickness starts to come around Jimmy Redman leaves the ring via the side that has no barbed wire around it anymore. Samson clenches and unclenches his hands ready and eager to get hold of the challenger to his and Lucas’ belts. Robinson steps back as Sickness regains his feet. The two superstars circle each other, The Executioner still clenching and unclenching his fists while Sickness shakes his head a little in an effort to clear his mind. Samson darts in, far quicker than the sluggish SickStar can manage right now, and sends Sickness to the ground with a double leg takedown… but Special Ed keeps hold of the legs of Sickness and grins into the hardcam before


JS: The move that has ended careers, the move perfected by Boyo and passed down to Twiggie. The move associated with two thirds of The Dark Alliance is being used on the final member!

Sickness screams in agony and Samson pulls back on the Cloverleaf, the spine of The Lone Wolf is almost doubled over on itself. Sickness reaches out towards the edge of the ring…

JS: Sickness trying to get a rope break, I don’t think he has any idea where he is anymore.

Inch by agonising inch Sickness drags himself, and Samson, to the edge of the ring. The Sick One strains his hand out

His fingers brush the edge of the barbed wire

And with a final burst of effort Sickness manages to grasp hold of the razor sharp barbs, blood instantly bubbling up between the fingers of his hand. The camera gets a close up of the face of Sickness, capturing the moment he realises his mistake! As his eyes start to reflect the pain and frustration he must be feeling a wave of worry seems to pass around the crowd. Picking up on the fans feelings Samson grins and pulls Sickness back into the centre of the ring, bloody handprints behind him as Sickness tries to prevent the momentum. Again Samson pulls back on the hold and Sickness lets out another cry of agony, he raises his hand

PH: this is it!

And brings it down onto the floor three times in quick succession.

The crowd go silent in shock as the referee signals for the bell and informs Edward Samson that he as retained his Triple Crown!

TC: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner and STILL Triple Crown Champion of The Wooorrrld, The Executioner Edward Saaaamsooooon!

JS: My God, despite everything I didn’t expect that!

PH: Hahaha, again I was right. That’s it, game over for Sickness, what’s he got left now?

JS: I don’t know Paul.

In the ring Samson holds his three belts up in the air while EMTs check on the unmoving Sickness, no music has yet been played to signify the successful defence, not that Samson seems to care.


Am disappoint, son
Senior Moderator
Inside a poorly maintained apartment block in the badside of town, we're taken to a rundown looking corridor, grey walls that haven't seen paint in years, decaying, crumbling and generally quite ugly. The noise of cars battling through horn-based-diplomacy can be heard, muffling out the other ever-so-pleasing sounds of cats wailing and the ill coughing. In complete contrast to this dreary scene, the wobbly camera follows a sharp-suited Todd Grisham, microphone in hand and concern in his eyes. He speaks with a less than confident voice, a volume barely above a whisper

Todd Grisham: Hello ladies and Gentleman, I'm Todd Grisham, representing TWOstars entertainment, and I'm here looking for someone. A... A certain someone we haven't seen in years, I-

The adventurous interviewer is interrupted by a sudden stumbling, tripping over a poor looking man curled up in the hallway. Fortunate enough not to lose his balance, he drops the man a few dollar bills, apologising.

TG: Jeez, I... Mmm. Excuse me, sorry. An elusive man who... well... left in shame, head hung and reputation tarnished. But we... although our roster may suggest otherwise, we as a company, TWOstars, don't hold a grudge. And this man, this particular wrestler, well. We'd love to have him back for one last match before we close our doors forever.

Turning his head back around to face the way he's going, Todd's travelling reaches an abrupt halt. There, before him, stands a worse-for-wear door, with a nameplate hanging rather limply in the centre. The camera zoons forward and, after taking a few seconds to focus, it becomes perfectly readable.

'Angus McDonald'

TG: I'd heard rumours that he'd come into poverty. Rumours of a plaid-clad lad loitering the streets, an insane, ginger reprobate harassing the locals with whistling and incoherent babbling and... well... after asking around. It's lead us here. To this rotten building, this... horrible corridor, this... disgusting, deplorable, scum-laden, depraved hold of the damned and unfortunate, this...-

Stranger: Hey! Shut up, this is our home yer talkin' about ya jackass!

TG: Oh, I... uhh... Mm, sorry. It's... well...

S: I understand tha prawcess of journalistic hyperbole ta better let the viewer pict'chah the scene, but yer complete disregard fer the inhabitants o' this residency is sickenin'. SICKENIN'~!

The bearded man shuffles by, brushing his nose with the back of his hand. A silent Todd takes a moment to recompose himself and clears his throat.

TG: Well it's taken us to this door. So. Here goes.

Todd takes a deep breath and knocks three times.

Groovy Voice: Just a second, baby!

Todd blinks, brows raised and head flickering like an alert meerkat, not expecting such a prompt, and high-pitched, response. After some rumaging from beyond the door, a chorus of locks unbuckling plays precursor to the door opening. The entrance widens and standing there in the doorway is a slim looking man, wearing leopard-print trousers that look like they'd be too tight for a chicken and a dressing gown, over large and fluffy, with enough feathers to make Ric Flair envious. The man's head, half-distorted by aviator sunglasses, is playing host to hair that looks stronger than the man wearing it, a pink mohawk that threatens to pierce the sky with each of it's impossibly vertical spikes.

GB: Koooo' Hooooo'!

Although the stranger's smile is enthusiastic, Todd is less so, hesitating before finally speaking.

TG: W-who are y-

GV: Who am I?! Ho' baby, you's makin' ma heart ache! I'm stoodly-woodly-Stuie Kooool! Hakka-za-dow!

TG: Stuie... But... The door says Angus McDonald, we're looking for Angus McDonald!

Stuie Kool: Angy McDee? Oooooh, mercy, you's little too late if you's lookin' fer that cat, daddy! He scrammed long 'go, disappeared faster than a vampire 'sposed t'sunlight, baby! Ow!

TG: He... But I-

SK: Ho', dig this, daddy-o, I's remember him like it was yesterday. Head-a fiiiire, baby. Long, lucious locks, s'if his hair was devil tongues, lickity-lick, y'feel me? He wore more tartan than a set of bagpipes, and I'm guessin' packed more air too! His eyes, hoo' mercy, those eyes, like bluey-blue crystals, a river t'the sooooul, man. But though they's a spring t'his step, and bounce in those britches, awwww baby-baby, I could see there was somethin' missin'. Somethin' reeeeaaal big gone from his palette, dig? Like a painter with no paint, or a poet with no words or a... third guy with no... Third thing. Hoo!

TG: Well I, Stuie, I need to find him before the big show tonight, do you have any - ANY - idea where he could've gone?

SK: Beats me, Jack! But lemmie lay this on ya, some nifty wizdom from the churcha kool. When little baby birdy learns t'fly, he retuuuurns t'the nest when somethin' ain't groovy. Stuie-kiz-ka-zow!

TG: Returns to the nest... Re- Thank you, Stuie! You've been a great help!

SK: Stu-bloo-bah-zakka-Ooooh! Anytime, baby. Zippity zappity, kool runnin's, Toddy! Keep it kool, y'hear me? Keep it... Stuie Kool.

The glamorous gentleman disappears back behind the door, moonwalking out of view before closing the entrance. Todd turns around, patting the cameraman on the head, a slight hop to his departure as he gets walks quickly away

TG: C'mon, I know where t'go.

The camera turns to the floor before turning off, bringing a close to this segment.


Am disappoint, son
Senior Moderator
JM: Welcome back to our special Decade of Destruction preshow, where you’ve just seen Todd Grisham hot on the heels of the Tartan Spartan Angus McDonald! We’re celebrating 10 years of TWOStars over the next two nights, but you have to believe this company wouldn’t have been the place it became without the three men involved in our Kings of Old School match tonight. TWOStars rolls back the clock tonight as ERE founder Deadman and our first ever Triple Crown Champion Twiggie face off!

LR: Aye, this is gonna be another great, great match. Twiggie may be one of the most popular men ever in TWOStars, and Deadman has nearly brought an end to this company on more than one occasion. I can’t wait to see Twiggie finally put Deadman in his place.

TLK: I worked for once Deadman, and I will be able to confirm that it is being ruined in there must be a man with him. Twiggie, you might he have been bitten off more than can chew in tonight's contest.

JM: Umm…wise words there from Tonkatsuman, but how do we all feel about long-term frienemies Dammage and Famous squaring off?

WEB: Well we’ve seen Famous and Dammage as friends, enemies, and quite possibly everything in between. It’s about time we finally found out who the better man is once and for all!

JM: And let’s not forget about our huge multiman ladder match, where we will crown TWOStars greatest ever Television Champion. Joseph Helms, Drake Rush, Apollo Chambers, and Jason Bell will all compete, and we’ve also received word that TWOStars management have requested Angus McDonald for this match, but have so far had no luck in contacting the Railroad Spike. Let’s take you back to Todd Grisham’s mission to find The Luchamotive.


Am disappoint, son
Senior Moderator
Taking a break from the stadium, we're shown a messy looking location, a poorly maintained train-yard, caked in dust, rust and broken dreams. The sky is filled with clouds, a light-devouring gray overseeing the dreary scene as Todd Grisham and his faithful, faceless camera crew wander forward, scanning the area that appears to be completely empty. Completely empty barring one man. A hooded gentleman, sweeping the ground with a brush making very little progress in cleaning the place up, a homeless Sisyphus trying to push his broom-shaped bolder up this train-yard of a hill.

Todd Grisham: Okay... here we are, it... I can't see anything. Or... Hold on. Let's. Let's ask that man there.

Stepping with hesitation born from uncertainty, the plucky backstage interviewer wanders forward, narrowing his eyes as he closes in on the baggy-clothed stranger.

TG: Excuse me, sir?

The man simply grunts. Todd scratches the back of his head, face tightening with a growing regret, but still, he powers on.

TG: Ahah, uhh, sorry, sir. I'm, w-we're looking for a man, maybe you've heard of him? He goes by Angus McDonald, about 5'9, slim-ish build, wears a lot of tartan, speaks in a way that, if it were written down, you might have to read through it a few times to get the gist of it, any of this see-

Stranger: Never 'eard ov 'im! Now aff wae ye', ah'm busy.

Todd blinks, the voice more recognizable than Santa Claus, Jesus Christ and Ronald McDonald put together.

TG: A-Angus? Is that you?

S: Ah said ah've never 'eard ov 'im! Ye've come tae the wrang place, goat the wrang guy!

TG: No, Angus, it's me, Todd Grisham of TWOstars, I'm here t-


The hooded stranger turns around, eyes wild, nostrils flared and face completely covered in tartan. There was no denying it now. He was either Angus McDonald or a damn fine imitation.

TG: Oh my God, Angus McDonald, it's you! It's really you, it's-

S: It isnae! Ah'm no, ah'm no, ah'm no! I... Lookit ma nametag, fer the love o' haggis~!

Todd, and the cameraman does just so, revealing that, according to the slim block of plastic, it wasn't Angus McDonald. It was, in fact, 'Not Angus McDonald'.

Not Angus McDonald: See?! Now get tae buggary, yaaaaa... spectacle wearin' bampot, ye'~!

TG: No, I... I didn't come all this way just to be turned away, no, this... Angus. Look at me, look at your old buddy Todd Grisham, I'm here for you! TWOstars, it's closing its doors once and for all, and we want you back for one! Last! Match, Angus, c'mon!

Not Angus McDonald sniffs, shaking his head

NAM: O'right, fine, it's me. Bloody baw'sacks, ah paid a month's worth o' wages tae get this fake I.D made. Waste o' pissin' money, so it wis! But naw, naw, Todd, listen. Ah might be Angus McDonald, aye, but ah'm no Flyin' Scotsman, O'right? That part o' ma life is behind me. Ah dinnae do that nae-more.

TG: So what do you do, huh? Just... stand around here all day, sweeping up?

Angus McDonald: Aye! It's... It's all ah'm good fur anymare. Ah'm busted, Todd. A train wae oot an engine. A rail waeoot a road! A conductor waeoot a whistle. Ah cannae return there. No efter whit it did tae me... or whit I did tae the fans. I... It's shameful, lad. So here am are. Surrounded by ma ain people. Broken steam engines wae nae purpose tae serve ony mare!

He sniffs, turning away, getting back to sweeping

TG: But you do have a purpose to serve, Angus! You're the flying Scotsman, you... Former Triple Crown Champion, Battle Royal Winner, voted one of the best in the history of TWOstars! You can't just throw that away, you... One more fight, Angus. To prove to the fans, to prove to the world, to prove to YOURSELF.

AM: Bah!

With a huff, he leans forward a little, speeding up his sweeping.

TG: Come on, Angus. One last match. We want you. C-uhh... Cari-Dee wants you.

Angus straightens up, perking up with curiousity.

TG: Randy Roko wants you.

With a low grumble, Angus leans down, picking the push-broom off of the ground, eyes wide and wild as he slowly turns around


He lifts the broom up overhead before bringing it down on a knee, snapping it into two pieces, casting both aside.


Todd's face lights up, as the Tartan Spartan starts twitching, close to frothing at the mouth

TG: S-so you'll come...?


The plaid lad grabs a hold of his hoody and tears it off of his body, exposing his same, athletic form that he maintained during his prime. Taking two fistfuls of his baggy trousers, he rips them off and, dropping like a curtain, a kilt unravels to take their place. Still growling, still fuming and still twitching, the Flying Scotsman raises an arm up into the air, balling his hand into a fist. With two yanks, a train whistle blasts from, seemingly, nowhere.


Without saying another word, well, any word that's coherent anyway, the Flying Scotsman takes off, charging like a bull seeing red, hurtling forward at a near terrifying speed, darting off out of view and into the distance. Todd turns to the cameraman, wearing an exhausted smile

TG: I... I think that's a yes!

With an indecisive chuckle, Todd pats the cameraman on the back, heading to the exit
Last edited:


Am disappoint, son
Senior Moderator
We jump back to the arena, where our panel are sitting by, with the audience for the evening growing by the moment, all hyped in anticipation for the beginning of the show.

JM: Folks, we’re just mere minutes away from beginning our celebration of TWOStars Decade of Destruction, so all that’s left is for me to thank my fellow panellists for this evening, Lindy Rose…

The camera pans to Lindy, who is currently downing a pint of bitter. Lindy finishes the drink with ease, wiping the froth away with the back of her hands. Before throwing a smile and wink in the cameras direction.

JM: Steve Austin, the Work Experience Boy…

WEB: You do realise I have a proper job now, right? I’m not even at school any more, let alone on work experience!

JM: And our special guest from future Tokyo, Tonkatsuman Lightning Kaijin!

TLK: Thank you for this accepting panel into me Josh, it seems I was the most fun time to sit here next to this princess of beautiful and the young man with many genius.

JM: Well that’s it from us folks…wait one second…

Josh hold his finger to his ear, obviously receiving instructions from production backstage.

JM: We’ve just been informed our TWOStars Heavyweight Champion, Matt Denton has arrived at the stadium…I think we’ve got enough time to take you back there…


Am disappoint, son
Senior Moderator
A custom made solid gold limousine arrives at backstage. Several guards with riot gear and weapons immediately surround it for protection. A few moments pass before the door opens to reveal TWOStars Heavyweight Champion and newly appointed TWOStars general manager Matt Denton. Denton has the belt around his wait while a server grabs his bags. Several personnel greet Matt as he makes his way for the first night of Decade of Destruction.

Denton’s Lackey: “Good evening Mr Denton.”

MD: “Is everything running smoothly?”

DL: “It sure is!”

MD: “The Jacuzzi, 60 inch tv along with my consoles are prepared too right?”

DL: “Of course.”

MD: “Excellent.”

DL: “Can we get you a drink?”

MD: “I am going straight out there right now I have no time for drinking.”

DL: “Going out?”

MD: “Yes.

The lackey begins to look worried…

MD: “What the hell is going on?”

DL: “Well….You’re not scheduled for it.”

MD: “What? I specifically said I was first!”

DL: “But someone changed it so they could be first ones out.”

MD: “Who?”

Denton reads the production notes to reveal Darkstar is to open up Decade of Destruction!!!!

MD: “That ***** is not stealing my spot light! Change it now!!!”

DL: “Sir we can’t, it’s nearly time to go on…It’s all locked in…I’m sorr-“

Denton orders his guards to attack the male assistant while he re-reads the notes and gets the female personnel’s attention.

MD: “I know you’re smarter than him….You tell your team that this is my show now. Everything that happens from the beginning to the end is decided by me correct?”

She nods her head.

MD: “Good, spread the word I’ll be seeing Darkstar soon.”

Denton rips up the notes before ordering a servant from his limousine to hand over his diamond encrusted iPhone as the camera fades to the TWOStars HD logo…


Am disappoint, son
Senior Moderator

Intro/Panel Segments: dsrchris
Eagles Promo: The Fury
Samson vs Sickness: Paul (I think) from 6 YEARS AGO!!
The Hunt for Angus Pt 1 & 2: Dr. ZERO
Denton Promo: The Fury
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