1. This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this site, you are agreeing to our use of cookies. Learn More.
  2. Welcome!

    We're a UK based community of cult entertainment fans - so whether you're into WWE, Marvel, DC, Game of Thrones, Walking Dead, Star Wars, Doctor Who, Star Trek and more - join us!

    It's free to register, so why not sign up and discuss whatever you're into...
    Dismiss Notice

TWOstars' Top Ten Superstars 2011

Discussion in 'Special Collections' started by JobberJoe, Jun 15, 2011.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000
    We’re taken to a small studio – a few pillars stand impressively round the edges of the screen while in the middle are two men, our presenters for the evening. The first is the ever-reliable Todd Grisham; announcer and interviewer extraordinaire and on the other hand is a young man who’s been waiting for a break like this to come his way, the Work-Experience Boy. On the walls behind them are various TWOstars related posters – some advertising PPVs, DVDs, the website and also the soon-to-be-released video game.

    Todd and WEB are smiling eagerly and it’s with a swing of the arm as if holding a great tankard of ale that the interviewer welcomes us to the show.

    Todd Grisham: Weeeeeeeeelcome TWOstars Universe to a very special show. I’m one of your two hosts tonight, Todd Grisham and my partner in crime is none other than the Work-Experience Boy.

    Work-Experience Boy: Also occasionally called Steve.

    TG: Woah-ho, calm down there tiger... don’t want you getting angry now.

    The feigned friendship is already starting to grate and so WEB takes it upon himself to move along. Todd playfully throws a few punches at his associate before realising that it isn’t welcomed and returns to his own personal space.

    WEB: We’re here tonight to count down the top 10 TWOstars wrestlers as chosen by you the fans!

    TG: The last time this list took place was in 2009, so I’m excited to see how much has changed in those two years.

    WEB: Well, although I don’t want to spoil things too much Todd, what I will say is that some people from the last list... well they don’t make the cut this time...

    TG: No...

    One of Todd’s cheeks goes pink with embarrassment as he slaps it and lets his mouth hang open in shock.

    WEB: But the only way to find out who is where this time is to get started.

    TG: That sounds good to me; would you do the honour of introducing nuuuuuumber 10.
  2. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000
    WEB: He’s a man who, when mentioned, you might not immediately associate TWOstars with, but his legacy and place in our companies history is more important than most fans will ever know.

    TG: Both in front of the camera as a competitor, as an opponent running Extreme Revolution and as a businessman behind the scene, Deadman has been one of the longest running influences to TWOstars and that alone seals his place on this list.

    WEB: To help you appreciate exactly how important this man is we’d like to take you back to 2004 and a little show known as Armageddon.

    TG: It was Andy Gee against Deadman for the Extreme Revolution championship.

    WEB: That wasn’t all though – if Deadman lost the match then he would be forced out of ERE forever. You see, Deadman had just recently returned to the company after months away due to TWOstars legend The Crippler driving the ERE owner off of a pier. During his absence Paul Heyman took control of the company and was unwilling to hand back power when the rightful heir returned.

    TG: Heyman, being the savvy businessman that he is, came up with the perfect solution to his problems – he pit the current champion Andy Gee, who was Heyman had grown to hate, against Deadman knowing that if Gee lost then he’d no longer be champion and if Deadman lost then he’d no longer be a part of the company...

    WEB: It was a win-win situation for Heyman... but... well, look for yourself and see.

    Extreme Revolution Entertainment - Armageddon 2004
    Extreme Revolution championship

    Andy Gee(c) VS Deadman


    JR: Well folks it's been one hell of a night so far and oh man ladies and gentlemen things are not going to slow down yet because moments from now we are going to HBK and Deadman go at it for the Extreme Revolution Championship, a match which they both have to win.

    King: Oh no doubt about that JR, on one hand HBK needs to win this match to keep the Extreme Revolution Championship because if he does lose you just know that Paul Heyman isn't going to allow him another shot at the Championship for a long time.

    JR: Well that is sad but it's exactly true King, Paul Heyman has made it clear that he does not like HBK as Extreme Revolution Champion but at the same time he also wants Deadman to lose as well tonight.

    King: Yes he does JR, either way Paul Heyman is going to get what he wants JR, if HBK loses he's lost the championship but if Deadman loses to HBK here tonight he is gone forever and never to return.

    JR: This is indeed a match where neither competitor can afford to lose but one will King and with that said, let's hand this things over to the Fink.

    The Bell rings three times and the camera focuses in on the Fink in the middle of the ring as the crowd begin to rumble.

    Fink: The Following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for the Extreme Revolution Championship!

    'This is Extreme' hits and the crowd begin to boo like mad as Paul Heyman comes walking out onto the stage with a huge sly smile on his face.

    Fink: Introducing the special guest announcer for this match, he is the Chairman of Extreme Revolution.... Paul Heyman!!!!!

    The crowd's boos intensify as Paul walks down the ramp, he stops now and then as the fans continue to jive him. Paul just smiles at the fans before then continuing his way down the aisle towards the ring.

    JR: I can't believe this guy is coming to join us King.

    King: He's the chairman JR, he can do whatever he pleases.

    JR: I don't like this one little bit King, he has issues with both the guys competing in that ring for the Extreme Revolution Championship.

    Paul Heyman is now moving towards the announce table as King stands up and offers his hand to him.

    King: Come on JR, stand up and welcome our Chairman.

    JR: No thanks King, I've got a job to do and that doesn't involve kissing that guys ass.

    Paul has shook King's hand and offers it to JR who just ignores him, Paul then knocks JR's hat off getting a huge chorus of boos as Paul just laughs as he takes a seat next to King's and puts on the headset.

    Heyman: Thanks for the warm introduction King, JR you will have to learn some manners sir.

    King: Yes JR, you can't treat Mr. Heyman like that

    JR: Oh Mr. Heyman, let me kiss your ass Mr. Heyman... Oh please!

    King: JR!

    Heyman: It doesn't matter King, JR and I have never got on... Never!

    The camera is back on the Fink in the ring and the crowd begins to rumble again.

    The Fink: Introducing first.....


    The lights go out and the crowd give out an initial massive pop but this soon turns to a mixed reaction.

    Thunder and Lightning begin to echo around the arena as a second

    BONG! is heard as 'Dark Side' begins to play as a purple hew falls over the arena.

    The Fink:.... From Burnley, Lancashire weighing in at 258lbs...... Deadman!!!!!

    The camera is on the ground in the white fog near the entrance way which catches Deadman as he slowly walks out onto the stage as the crowd gives out another huge mixed reaction.

    JR: and there he is Ladies and Gentlemen, he is on a mission to get this company back from the hands of Paul Heyman an...

    Heyman: It's not going to happen JR.

    JR: What?

    Heyman: It's not going to happen, there is no way he's going to get this company back. I'm in charge now and it's going to stay like that.

    JR: Well that may be wishful thinking Paul, you have backed this man into a corner and he's coming out fighting. You better hope you don't push him too far Paul.

    Heyman: Yeah right, like as if he's going to do anything to me JR.

    Deadman has now got down to ringside, he stares into the ring before walking over to the ring steps which he slowly begins to climb up where he stops on the top step. The camera has changed to that of one in the ring looking at Deadman from the corner as Deadman slowly brings back the lights to the arena as his eyes roll back into his head.

    JR: Oh what a moment ladies and gentlemen.

    King: I hate that part, it gives me goose pimples

    Deadman has now begun to walk along the ring apron before he steps through the ropes and stare straight at Paul Heyman at ringside as he slowly takes off his jacket.

    JR: He's looking at you Paul

    Heyman: I can see that Ross and that's all he's going to do as well.

    Deadman tosses his jacket to the outside and moves over to the ropes and continues to stare down Heyman who is beginning to look uneasy now.

    JR: He getting to you Paul?

    Heyman: No.... No he isn't JR

    JR: Whatever Paul, you're scared and we all know it.

    Heyman: Shut up JR.

    JR: HAHA

    Heyman: I said shut up JR

    'Darkside' has now faded out as Deadman continues to stare Heyman out but this is soon stopped as 'Sexy Boy' hits causing the crowd to e****INGrupt.

    Fink: and his opponent, from Preston, Lancashire weighing in at 215lbs.... representing Badd Company, he is the Extreme Revolution Champion..... The Heartbreak Kid..... ANDY GEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

    HBK has come dancing out onto the stage with the Extreme Revolution Championship around his waist and the crowd is still going nuts.

    JR: Oh man listen to this ovation for the Extreme Revolution Champion

    Heyman: We have no option but to listen JR and it's sickening

    King: Yeah it is.

    HBK has danced to one side of the stage and does the Badd Company point into the crowd as they cheer and take pictures, HBK then skips back along the stage to the other side where he does the point again as he gets the same reaction from the crowd.

    JR: HAHA There is only one Andy Gee and he is the Extreme Revolution Champion.

    Heyman: Hopefully not for long

    JR: So I take it you want Deadman to win here Paul

    Heyman: Not at all JR, I want to see these two destroy each other and then the only winner then is me Paul Heyman.

    JR: Well I have a feeling that these two won't be holding anything back, nothing at all.

    HBK has now started to head down the ramp way when he stops about halfway down it, he looks up into the roof of the arena and puts his wrists up as well as masses of pyro go back and forth along the stage as the crowd go nuts even more. HBK now looks back down towards the ring which he begins skipping towards as he high fives the crowd, he gets to ringside and jumps up onto the ring apron where he puts one leg between the rope and begins to hump it a little before he jumps into the ring and begins to spin around before doing the flexing biceps pose as the crowd cheer even louder.

    Heyman: Just tell me King, is that the way you expect an Extreme Revolution Champion to act? Humping the rope like that!

    King: No it's not, it's disgusting.

    Heyman: Indeed it is King and that's why I don't want that idiot as the Extreme Revolution Champion.

    JR: You two need to lighten up, the fans love the guy, he is the Extreme Revolution Champion and let's face it, he makes this company a hell of a lot of money.

    HBK is now on a turnbuckle posing for the crowd as they cheer him on even more.

    Heyman: That might be so Sir, but he's not what the Extreme Revolution needs from a champion, we need a champion with class.

    JR {Sarcastically}: Like Boyo?

    Heyman: Exactly right JR

    JR: Oh please.

    Heyman: What?

    JR: I've got more class in my finger than Boyo has in his entire body.

    Heyman: Riiggghttt JR, you keep telling yourself that buddy as you continue to stuff your face full of that BBQ sauce of yours.

    HBK has now got down from the turnbuckle and he is looking across the ring at Deadman who is staring right back.

    JR: You can feel it already folks, these two have one incredible history here in the Extreme Revolution, this is going to be a Sloberknocker.

    'Sexy Boy' has now died down and HBK has unhooked the Extreme Revolution Championship from around his waist as he and Deadman both walk into the centre of the ring. HBK hands the Extreme Revolution Championship to the referee who shows it first to HBK and then to Deadman who has a quick look at the championship. The referee then holds the title over his head to show the crowd.

    JR: This is indeed for the Extreme Revolution Championship and if you are in this business that is what you aim to win but tonight it's not just about the Championship for Deadman, this is about moving one step closer to regaining his company.

    Heyman: Ahem, whose company?

    JR: His Company Paul, it was his first before you got your grubby mits on it

    Heyman: Grubby? How dare you Ross?!

    The referee has handed the Championship belt over to the Fink on the outside of the ring and calls for the bell to be rung as the crowd pops real loud.

    JR: and this thing is underway folks.

    Heyman: Let the destruction begin

    JR: Your loving this aren't you?

    Heyman: Why yes I am JR.

    King: HAHA this is going to be great.

    Deadman is looking straight at HBK who is looking straight back as the crowd begins to rumble. Deadman begins to take a step back but as he does he throws a right hand straight towards HBK but HBK ducks it and connects with a straight right hand to Deadman's jaw that knocks him back a bit as the crowd pops.

    JR: HBK gets the first shot in

    Heyman: But it doesn't look like it effected Deadman

    King: I don't think he feels pain.

    Heyman: Oh yes he does King, we saw what Boyo did to him last month, he damn sure he felt that.

    JR: Well he's a jackass and he got what was coming to him earlier on tonight.

    Deadman holds his jaw a little and smiles at HBK before moving towards him again, HBK backs off, but suddenly launches towards Deadman connecting with right hand after right hand that sends Deadman backwards until he is backed into the corner where HBK now throws lefts and rights at Deadman as the crowd pops huge.

    JR: Mah Gawd HBK is taking it to Deadman, lefts and rights over and over.

    Heyman: Those are illegal fists, the referee should be in there and stopping this.

    HBK stops hitting Deadman and taunts for the crowd for a second but as he does Deadman grabs hold of HBK around the throat and launches him into the corner where he hits HBK with numerous right and lefts to the stomach and ribs as the crowd begin to boo some.

    King: and now it's Deadman with the illegal fists, this referee isn't exactly taking the rule book all that seriously.

    Heyman: Well normally I would be in there and sorting him out King, but I want to see a winner, I want to see Deadman and HBK tear each other apart.

    JR: You're sick Paul, just sick.

    Heyman: No JR, I think I'm quite well thank you very much.

    The referee is counting Deadman for the use of the fists in the corner and when the referee gets to four Deadman moves straight towards the referee who quickly exits the ring.

    King: and now Deadman is intimidating the referee, that isn't good

    JR: Well he should just mind his own business.

    Heyman: He's doing his job Ross, feel free to do yours any time soon.

    King: HAHAHA

    Deadman turns his attention back to HBK and smacks him in the head one more time with a right hand before grabbing him by the arm and whipping him straight across the ring, Deadman quickly follows in going for a huge clothesline in the corner but HBK ducks out of the way and Deadman connects hard with the turnbuckles driving the air out of his lungs.

    JR: Deadman went for the clothesline but all he got was a chest full of turnbuckles.

    Deadman stumbles out of the turnbuckles only to be scooped up by HBK and slammed hard into the mat. HBK puts Deadman's face to the side before jumping up and stomping down hard on the right hand side of it which causes Deadman to hold onto his face.

    Heyman: That has got to hurt!

    King: Yeah it has and HBK is beginning to take early control of this match

    Heyman: Indeed he is King but this one is far from over I can feel it.

    Deadman is getting back up to his knees when HBK runs straight towards him and dropkicks him straight in the face sending him back to the mat, HBK quickly goes for a cover hooking Deadman's leg.



    Deadman kicks out as the crowd gives out a pop

    JR: That was the first near fall of this contest Ladies and Gentlemen and I have a feeling we are going to see a lot of pin fall attempts because there is so much riding on this one match.

    Heyman: Oh no doubt about it JR, just think about what is at stake for these two if one of them should lose, HAHA

    Deadman is getting back up to his feet but HBK is already up, HBK goes to boot Deadman in the face but Deadman manages to grab hold of HBK's boot and manages to smack HBK with a European style uppercut that sends HBK flying backwards to the mat.

    JR: Oh man what an uppercut from Deadman

    Heyman: It was European Style JR and it was damn sure effective.

    Deadman is now fully up to his feet and watches HBK as he slowly gets up to all fours only for Deadman to boot him in ribs hard sending him rolling out of the ring to the outside as the crowd boos him again.

    King: What a boot from Deadman and HBK is really feeling the effects of it

    JR: Yes he is and these fans are not liking these actions from Deadman, actions that I have to believe he has been forced into by you Paul Heyman

    Heyman: Me JR?

    JR: Yes Paul

    Heyman: Well JR, when you poke a mean dog with a stick you're going to get aggression and that's what Deadman is showing. It just so happens that his aggression is being used against the Extreme Revolution Champion.

    JR: I man you don't like.

    Heyman: I know and I love it.

    Deadman has now exited the ring and walks over to HBK who is just about back up to his feet, Deadman drives his knee into HBK's mid section causing him to double over before Deadman grabs hold of HBK's arm and goes to whip him into the ring steps but at the last moment HBK reverses the whip and sends Deadman crashing shoulder first into them as the crowd goes nuts.

    JR: Did you hear that? That was a human being colliding with those steel steps!

    Heyman: This is exactly what I wanted to see JR, I want to see these two take each other apart and they're doing it right in front of my eyes.

    JR: You're sick Paul, this isn't right and you damn well know it isn't.

    King: It might not be right JR but it's damn sure fun to watch HAHA

    JR: Oh please.

    HBK walks over to Deadman and pulls him up to his feet before ramming his head hard into the steel ring steps which gives out a nasty clang as Deadman falls back to the arena floor. HBK walks away from Deadman and heads towards the timekeeper and grabs hold of a steel chair which gets a huge pop from the crowd.

    JR: Uhoh, HBK has a steel chair Ladies and Gentlemen and if HBK gets himself disqualified here he will retain the Extreme Revolution Championship by default.

    Heyman: What??!!!!

    Deadman is just about getting back up to his feet although with his back towards HBK, he slowly turns around and {CRACK} HBK smashes the chair off of Deadman's head sending him crashing back down to the arena floor as the referee calls for the bell.




    The crowd is booing at this

    King: What the hell?

    JR: It looks like the referee has disqualified HBK!

    Heyman: You're kidding me?

    The referee is over with The Fink talking to him, the referee then stops talking as The Fink raises the microphone.

    Fink: Ladies and Gentlemen, the referee has disqualified HBK for use of the steel Chair, there for the winner of this match.... Deadman!

    The crowd gives out a pop to this

    Fink: However, the Extreme Revolution Championship can NOT change hands on a disqualification, there for still Extreme Revolution Champion.... The Heartbreak Kid.... Andy Gee!!!!

    The crowd is popping like mad as 'Sexy Boy' hits and Andy Gee is handed the Extreme Revolution Championship.

    JR: Mah Gawd this match is over, HBK is still the champion and Deadman moves on, Paul you didn't win at all, HAHAHAHA

    Paul Heyman looks at JR and he is completely shocked

    Heyman: This isn't happening

    JR: It is Paul, you've been out smarted by HBK, how does it feel?

    Heyman removes the headset and stands up and goes over to the referee where he starts arguing with him as HBK is still celebrating in the ring.

    JR: Oh this is great Ladies and Gentlemen, HBK has out smarted Paul Heyman, he is still the Extreme Revolution Champion.

    King: This is wrong JR, we can't have a Championship match end like this.

    JR: Well it has King.

    Paul has now brought The Fink over and is yelling at him also, Paul then shouts 'Do It' to them as he heads back over to the announce table and puts the headset back on.

    Heyman: This is a joke King, a joke that I as the Chairman of this company have just sorted out.

    JR: What in the hell do you mean?

    The camera is now back on the Fink, as Sexy Boy has died out. HBK looks confused in the ring.

    Fink: Ladies and Gentlemen your attention please, The Chairman of Extreme Revolution Entertainment Mr. Heyman, has decided that this match must continue....

    The crowd gives out an initial big pop but then begins to boo again.

    Fink: ... and it will continue under no disqualification rules!

    The crowd pops huge at this announcement as the referee calls for the bell again.




    JR: What in the hell? You can't do this!

    Heyman: But I can JR and I have, no one out smarts Paul Heyman especially Andy Gee.

    JR: You're pathetic Paul.

    Heyman: No JR, I want what is best for the fans of the Extreme Revolution. I w...

    JR: The fans my ass Paul, you're doing what's best for you

    Heyman: So what if I am Ross.

    In the ring HBK is arguing with the referee who is demanding that he gives him back the Extreme Revolution Championship.

    King: Look at HBK, he doesn't want to give the referee the belt back

    Heyman: That's because he knows that he may never see it again.

    JR: You'd love that wouldn't you?

    Heyman: Yes JR, I would.

    Deadman is back up to his feet and has slid into the ring, he gets back up to his feet only to be blasted straight upside the head by the Extreme Revolution Championship belt courtesy of HBK as the fans pop.

    JR: Mah Gawd what a shot!

    HBK throws the belt to the outside of the ring and goes straight for the cover as the fans count along....



    THRE..... Deadman powers out launching HBK off of him as he stands up, a trickle of blood rolls down his head as he looks pissed off.

    JR: UHOH

    King: I think HBK just pissed him off.

    Heyman: and you saw what Deadman did to HBK two weeks ago when he pissed him off, he left him in a heap on his locker room floor.

    Deadman is now up on his feet, the blood beginning to flow some more as HBK gets up to his knees holding his stomach. Deadman walks over to him and grab him by the hair and backs him into the corner where he hits him with several reverse forearms. Deadman then grabs HBK by the arm and whips him across the ring as Deadman follows him in, as HBK gets to the corner he tries to use the turnbuckles to flip over the oncoming Deadman but Deadman manages to catch HBK on his shoulders.

    JR: HBK tried to get out of the corner but he was caught by the Deadman.

    King: This is great, I'm loving it.

    Heyman: Shhh King, do you want us to be sued by McDonalds!

    King: McDonalds?!!! But I'm the Burger King!

    JR: Oh please.

    Deadman still has HBK on his shoulder and begins to run across the ring towards the turnbuckles, just before he gets there he launches HBK off his shoulder and plants him face first into the corner. Deadman immediately runs and bounces off the ropes as HBK comes stumbling out of the corner and as Deadman reaches HBK he boots him straight in the face with the big boot that takes him straight down to the mat.

    JR: That was the snake eyes and big boot combination folks and that is classic Deadman if we ever saw it.

    Deadman quickly drops to his knees and covering HBK with his forearm across the face of HBK.



    THRE.... HBK kicks out

    JR: HBK kicked out, the Champion is still in this thing.

    Heyman: Yes he is JR but did you see the way Deadman covered him there, he put his forearm across the face of HBK causing him more discomfort as he kicked out.

    JR: Well that is another trick used by Deadman in the past folks and he's pulled it out again tonight against HBK.

    Deadman looks at the referee annoyed but gets back up to his feet and pulls up HBK with him while backing him to the ropes, once there Deadman strikes HBK across the jaw with a forearm before whipping him across the ring. HBK comes bouncing back and straight towards Deadman who swings at him going for a clothesline but HBK ducks this and keeps on running, bouncing off the ropes again as Deadman turns around before he smacked straight in the face by the flying forearm of HBK taking both men down to the mat as the crowd pops.

    JR: Deadman missed with the clothesline but damn sure hit with that flying forearm.

    Heyman: Indeed he did JR but as you can see HBK is not able to capitalise on this.

    The referee looking at both wrestlers down on the mat begins to count them out as a let's go HBK count starts.



    JR: What happens here Paul if both these guys are counted out?


    Heyman: Well erm, I don't think that will happen but if it does this match will still be continuing till we have a winner.


    JR: Oh please.


    HBK and Deadman are both motionless on the mat.


    HBK suddenly nips up to his feet to a massive pop from the crowd but at the exact same time Deadman sits up as the crowd also pop.

    JR: Oh man HBK is up but so is Deadman.

    Heyman: This is how much this means to these two JR, neither man wants to lose here.

    HBK walks over to Deadman who is just getting up to his vertical base, HBK boots him in the stomach before hitting him with a few hard rights backing him to the ropes. HBK then takes a few steps back before charging at Deadman and knocking him straight over the top rope to the floor as the crowd pops.

    JR: HBK has taken Deadman to the outside here.

    King: He has JR, but I think this is more like Deadman territory than HBK's

    HBK is now over in the corner and is looking down at Deadman who is getting back up to his feet.

    JR: What the hell is HBK going to do here?!!!!

    Heyman: I don't know but he's damn sure crazy.

    Deadman is just about up to his feet when HBK springs himself straight up to the top turnbuckle and launches himself straight at Deadman taking him down hard to the arena floor as the crowd goes nuts.

    JR: Mah Gawd, HBK... HBK... HBK!

    King: He's crazy!

    JR: That's the old HBK, he's here and kicking ass like only he can!

    Heyman: Calm down JR, you're going to blow a gasket or something.

    JR: No I'm not going to calm down Paul, HBK just flew straight from the ring to the arena floor and has taken Deadman down along the way. Oh man what a match.

    HBK is now beginning to pull himself up to his feet using the ring apron and once on them he looks straight into a camera and twirls a finger around his head before he boots Deadman in his.

    JR: HAHA He just said it himself folks, he is crazy as hell.

    HBK has now dragged Deadman up to his feet by the hair when he rams Deadman's head into the ring apron before dragging him towards the announce table and smashing Deadman's head into the top of the table before he falls to the floor.

    JR: HBK is using our table as an offensive weapon folks and I think we better get ready to move gentlemen.

    Heyman: What do you mean time to move? I'm already gone!

    HBK has now grabbed the top of the announce table and hits Deadman with it before throwing it out of the way. HBK then removes the first TV monitor from the desk followed by the second one.

    King: Why is he destroying our table, the Spanish table is over there!

    HBK having removed the monitors once again grabs Deadman and pulls him up to his feet and smacks his head onto the announce table causing him to roll onto it as well, HBK jumps up on the table as well and poses for the crowd as they cheer him on even more.

    JR: HAHA There is only on Andy Gee.

    Heyman: You said that earlier JR and my response is going to be exactly the same... THANK GOD!

    HBK is smiling at the fans at ringside when he turns his attention back to Deadman where he begins to pulls him up to his feet but as he does this Deadman low blows HBK to a chorus of boos from the crowd.

    JR: Low blow

    Heyman: HAH Excellent

    King: That shut the Champion up

    Heyman: It sure did King.

    Deadman is now up on his feet on the table and has hold of HBK by the hair and slowly pulls him up to his feet where Deadman grabs him by the throat as the crowd give out an initial pop.

    JR: UHOH!!!

    Heyman: YES!!! DO IT!!!!

    Deadman tightens the grip on HBK's throat and lifts him up for the Chokeslam but before he can plant HBK, HBK grabs Deadman's head and uses the momentum to plant Deadman straight through the announce table with a huge DDT as the crowd go nuts before stating a huge 'HOLY SHIT' chant.

    JR: MAH GAWD.... MAH GAWD!!!! HBK just DDT'd Deadman straight to hell!

    King: I thought he had him with the Chokeslam, how in the hell did HBK reverse that?

    JR: I don't know King, but he did and know both HBK and Deadman are lying in the shattered remains of our announce table.

    The camera is on both HBK and Deadman lying across the remains of the table before the camera pans up to Paul Heyman who has a huge smile on his face.

    JR: and you're loving this aren't you? You sick sonuvabitch you are loving this mayhem that you've caused aren't you?

    Heyman: Indeed I am JR, this is exactly what I wanted. I wanted these two to destroy each other and that's exactly what I've got.

    JR: Well I don't know how you sleep at night Paul, this isn't right.

    Heyman: Who cares if it's right?

    JR: I do and I bet their families damn well do.

    Heyman: Oh please.

    HBK has now slowly begun to rise out of the remains of the announce table and is looking worse for wear from it all.

    JR: HBK is moving Ladies and Gentlemen, there is no doubt that in my mind that he has the heart of a warrior and as I've said in the past, I'm not talking about the Ultimate Warrior either.

    King: Who?

    JR: Exactly King.

    HBK is now next to the ring and is slowly pulling himself back up to his feet and as he does this Deadman also begins to get up to his feet by using the safety barrier behind where the announce table was.

    Heyman: Deadman is getting up now JR, the carnage is going to continue even if you don't want it to.

    JR: Hey I want to see a winner here Paul, I just don't like the way you've forced both these men into this match, your morals are damn disgusting.

    Heyman: Oh my morals are disgusting huh?

    JR: Yes Paul, they're damn sure disgusting and I just hope that if Deadman gets this company back he kicks your damn ass.

    Heyman: Well how's about I kick your ass right now?

    King: Hey come on now guys.

    HBK has now rolled into the ring and is on his knees looking straight at Deadman who is slowly walking over to the ring, HBK tells Deadman to bring it on.

    JR: HBK is telling Deadman to bring it on and oh man Ladies and Gentlemen, he's not going to have to ask twice.

    Heyman: No sir he won't

    HBK is now fully up to his feet and is waiting on Deadman who just slides into the ring only to be stomped on a few times by the waiting HBK. Deadman fights back up to his feet and strikes HBK in the gut with a few shots sending him backwards a few steps as Deadman gets back up to his feet. HBK moves back towards Deadman and boots him in the stomach before shooting Deadman across the ring with an Irish whip, HBK moves into the centre of the ring as Deadman bounces back. HBK quickly ducks his head looking for a back body drop but Deadman sees this and hits the running DDT planting HBK's head straight into the mat hard as the fans give out a huge mixed reaction.

    Heyman: YES!!!!

    JR: Oh man what a huge high impact manoeuvre by Deadman.

    Heyman: Indeed it was JR and if he can cover HBK here he will get the win.

    King: I don't think Deadman can do it, I think he's taken too much punishment from HBK in this matc....

    Just as King finishes his sentence Deadman raises up to another mixed reaction from the Atlanta crowd.

    JR: And he has risen up folks, there is something about Deadman Ladies and Gentlemen.

    Heyman: What? The fact that he is dead?

    Deadman looks at HBK on the mat and begins to crawl over to him as the crowd begin to rumble.

    JR: Oh I don't think he's dead Paul, but I do think when he comes out here he goes into a frame of mind, a mindset if you will and to tell you the truth Paul, I think he gets some kind of sick pleasure out of beating people up.

    Heyman: Hasn't he always JR?

    JR: Well you might be right there Paul.

    Deadman is now next to HBK but instead of going for the cover Deadman begins to choke him as the crowd begins to boo.

    King: Deadman is going to choke the life out of HBK here

    Heyman: Good

    The referee begins a count on Deadman




    JR: Deadman needs to break this choke before the count of five


    Heyman: Why JR, there is no Disqualifications.


    The referee begins yelling at Deadman now and begins to forcibly trying to remove him from HBK but Deadman shoves the referee back.

    JR: Oh come on!

    Heyman: He should stay away.

    JR: What? He's a referee under your pay and your saying it's ok for Deadman to do that?

    Heyman: Yes sir I am.

    Deadman has released his grip on HBK and is now stalking the referee who gets trapped in the corner.

    JR: This isn't right, he's bullying the damn referee here.

    Deadman now has hold of the referee in the corner and is threatening him a little, Deadman then begins to turn back towards HBK but quickly turns back to the referee and blasts him in the face with a right hand knocking him out as the crowd begin to really boo now.

    JR: Oh come on

    Heyman: HAHAHA

    JR: and you're laughing?

    Heyman: Yes sir I am, this is great.

    Deadman is too busy looking down at the referee and he doesn't notice that HBK has got up to his feet and is slowly tuning up the band. Deadman turns his attention back away from the referee and looks back towards HBK and...... SMACK!!!! HBK connects with the Sweet Gee Music causing the crowd to pop like ****.


    King: But he can't capitalise on this either, he's out of it.

    HBK is indeed laying face down on the mat but he is slowly beginning to crawl towards Deadman as the crowd start a 'lets go HBK' chant. HBK gets to Deadman and throws his arm over his chest but there is no referee, the crowd is however counting.




    JR: Well that doesn't count as much as the fans would want it to, but we need an official out here.

    King: Indeed we do JR and it looks like there is one coming here....

    As King pointed out there is a referee running down the ramp, who quickly jumps and slides into the ring and immediately starts the count....



    THRE..... Deadman kicks out to a bit of a pop but then a huge chorus of boos.

    JR: Deadman kicked out folks and that was a damned tough break for HBK there.

    Heyman: That's life JR.

    JR: Well if Deadman hadn't knocked out the referee there I'm sure HBK would be walking out of here right now still the Extreme Revolution Champion.

    Heyman: Well luckily for Deadman he did JR.

    HBK crawls off of Deadman and slowly gets up to his knees as does Deadman, the two then slowly get up their feet back to back, the bump into each other and quickly spin around and go for the right hand but HBK's quickness means he gets to the punch first as the crowd pops huge. HBK quickly follows up with another and then another before scooping Deadman up and slamming him to the mat, HBK then quickly runs across the ring bounces back and goes for the Front Flip Thunder which he connects with as the crowd pops huge again.

    JR: HBK hits the Front Flip Thunder, come on Kid, cover him!

    HBK quickly dives on Deadman and covers him trying his best to hook the leg but can't quite get to it.



    Heyman: Will he get him?

    THRE.... Deadman gets his shoulders off the mat but at the same time he manages to hook HBK over and pins his shoulders to the mat.....



    THRE.............. HBK kicks out but only just as the crowd gasp.

    JR: Mah Gawd Deadman almost got the sneaky pin over HBK there.

    Heyman: That would have been great.

    HBK quickly gets up to his feet and looks at the referee in shock but doesn't waste any time, he however boots Deadman in the head before quickly heading over to the corner and climbing to the top as Deadman slowly gets up to his feet.

    JR: HBK is up top, what is he going to do now?

    Deadman slowly turns towards HBK and as he does HBK comes flying off the top ropes going for a double Ax Handle.... But NO Deadman catches HBK on the way down grabbing him around the throat before Chokeslamming him hard into the mat as the crowd fall silent.

    JR: Chokeslam!!!! Deadman hit the Chokeslam!!!

    Heyman: Cover him!

    Deadman has dropped to his knees and covers HBK hooking his leg as the crowd boos.


    JR: Will this be it?


    King: I dunno....

    THRE....... HBK kicks out and the crowd pops even louder.


    Heyman: NO, NO NO!!!!!

    JR: I take it you want Deadman to win now Paul?

    Heyman: No I don't JR, I just don't want HBK to win either.

    JR: Well that makes perfect sense

    Deadman gets up to his knees and looks down at HBK disgusted before punching him a few times, Deadman then gets up to his feet backs up to the ropes before charging back towards HBK and hitting a jumping leg drop before going for another cover....



    THRE.... HBK kicks out again as the crowd pops huge.

    JR: HBK kicks out again!

    Deadman now gets up to his feet and pulls HBK up with him where he knees him in the stomach before backing him towards the ropes. Deadman strikes HBK with a forearm to the head before he attempts to whip him across the ring but HBK reverses it and sends Deadman across it. HBK quickly charges in after Deadman attempting a clotheslines but Deadman manages to duck the attempt and carries on running. HBK turns around as Deadman bounces off the ropes and keeps on coming towards HBK, Deadman then jumps and launches himself towards HBK going for a flying clothesline but HBK drops to the mat causing Deadman to fly straight over him and crash to the mat as the crowd pops.

    JR: Mah Gawd Deadman just left his feet going for that clothesline and it did not, I repeat DID NOT pay off for the Challenger

    King: No it didn't JR and Deadman is feeling the effects of it for sure.

    HBK has got back up to his feet and he taps his head signifying he outsmarted Deadman before he dances over to the corner and slowly begins to tune up the band as the crowd begin to stop their feet.

    JR: HBK is tuning up the band for a second time tonight; will he be able to strike the Gee note again?

    Heyman: Don't count on it JR!!

    Deadman is getting back up to his feet as HBK begins to stomp his feet faster as the crowd does also.

    King: I have a feeling this is going to hit....

    Deadman is just about up to his feet and when fully vertical HBK launches himself out of the corner and SMACKS Deadman straight upside the jaw with Sweet Gee Music taking him down as the fans go nuts.


    HBK drops to his knees and goes straight for the cover hooking Deadman's leg as the crowd goes nuts...


    JR: Can he do it?


    King: Come on!!!!!


    The count stops and the crowd boo immediately as they see The Coach on the outside has pulled the referee from the ring, he then plants him with a right hand as the crowd boos even louder.

    JR: What in the hell is this?!!!!

    Heyman: HAHAHA

    King: I don't understand this...

    HBK is looking around and hasn't got a clue what has happened until he sees the Coach standing there smiling back at him, the Coach then sticks his middle fingers up at HBK causing the crowd to boo even louder as HBK looks at him pissed off.

    JR: Coach has screwed HBK here.

    King: The Coach?

    JR: That's what I said King, The Coach!

    HBK gets off of Deadman and quickly rolls out of the ring but as he does Coach starts running around the ring, HBK quickly follows suit as Deadman raises up in the ring.

    JR: Go Andy catch that little bastard

    King: JR!!!

    JR: Well he is King, what business does he even have out here?

    King: I.. I.. don't know JR.

    Coach slides into the ring and quickly runs straight across it and past Deadman, HBK tries to follow him but he runs straight into a big boot from Deadman as the crowd boos really loud.

    JR: Mah Gawd Deadman damn near took HBK's head off!

    The Coach is jumping around in the ring when Deadman blasts him in the face with a right hand knocking him to the outside of the ring, Deadman quickly turns his attention back to HBK who is slowly stumbling up to his feet holding onto his face. Deadman quickly capitalises on this and grabs HBK by the head from behind in the reverse DDT position as the gasp.

    JR: UHOH!

    Heyman: YES.... DO IT!

    Deadman wastes no time at all and hits the swinging reverses neck breaker driving HBK's head and face straight into the mat as the crowd boos like mad.

    Heyman: YES!!!

    JR: Oh man he hit it, Deadman hit the Cut Throat!

    Deadman covers HBK hooking his leg just at the original referee begins to come to, the crowd is now beginning to boo like mad as the referee begins to count..........


    JR: Come on Andy, kick out...............


    Heyman: Hurry up referee!





    The bell rings as 'Dark Side' begins to play.

    JR: Mah Gawd!!!!!


    Fink: Here is your winner and NEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW Extreme Revolution Champion....... ........Deadman!!!!

    JR: I can't believe this, Deadman has beaten HBK, HBK is no longer the Champion.

    Heyman: I love it! Now I've got to go guys, see you tomorrow night on RAW!

    Paul Heyman leaves the announce table just as the timekeeper hands the referee the belt, but Paul snatches it and begins to walk around the ring with it.

    JR: What in the hell is he doing with the Championship?

    King: I have no idea JR, Deadman doesn't look like he's getting it that's for sure.

    Paul walks around the ring fully and pulls Coach up to his feet and gives him a quick hug before they both start to slowly walk up the ramp backwards as the crowd is booing like mad.

    JR: Well I don't understand this at all folks, Deadman is the Champion, he beat HBK moments ago but Paul Heyman is leaving with the Extreme Revolution Championship belt.

    King: But what's the deal with Coach?

    JR: I have no idea King, it looks like him and Heyman was in this together, but why? Why dammit Why?

    HBK is now slowly getting back up to his feet and he looks at Deadman who stares back at him, Deadman then looks up the ramp towards Heyman and Coach as does HBK.

    JR: Oh man Ladies and Gentlemen, HBK has lost the Extreme Revolution Championship but Deadman isn't in possession of it either, Paul Heyman has it. This is crazy Ladies and Gentlemen, what is going on here? Armageddon has arrived and from the looks of it THE END IS BAH GAWD HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
  3. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000
    WEB: Now, when you talk about original superstars, one name tops the list leaving second place a tiny dot in the distance.

    TG: Angus McDonald – the Tartan Spartan, The Railroad Spike, The Flying Scotsman – a man who really thinks he’s a train.

    WEB: When McDonald came into the company, nobody would have suspected they’d have a future Television champion, Battle Royale winner and two-time Triple Crown champ on their hands.

    TG: That’s the beautiful thing about wrestling though – you can never say never.

    WEB: The Scotsman’s original approach in the ring led him to the very top of the mountain, but just now we’d like to stop a little short of that.

    TG: We’re heading to No Remorse in 2009 – he was on his way to headlining WrestleNova V but had one small pit stop to make first of all.

    WEB: You say ‘small’, but I don’t really count Edward Samson as small in any shape, size or form.

    TG: McDonald put his title shot on the line with the catch that, if he won, the manager of the Executioner, Lucas Thorp would become his slave for the fortnight afterwards.

    WEB: With the Whistle-Blowing Madman so much smaller, a lot of people were ready to count him out from the start...

    TG: I guess the only way to find out what happened is to watch.

    TWOstars - No Remorse 2009
    (If McDonald loses, his title shot at WrestleNova V goes to Edward Samson but if Samson loses, Lucas Thorp must serve Angus McDonald for a fortnight)
    Angus McDonald VS Edward Samson​

    As the recap of the blistering match between Willard and Jones comes to end we cut back to ringside.

    To introduce us to the following match is beloved big bellied announcer, Tony Chimel.

    Tony Chimel: The Following match up is scheduled for one fall, and it is for a chance to main event at Wrestlenova! Introducing first, hailing from Edinurgh Scotland and weighing in at 201 lbs - 'The Flying Scotsman' Angus McDonald.

    [youtube]<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fWJbggA8t3E&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fWJbggA8t3E&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>[/youtube]

    Out from behind the curtain bounds a very excited looking Angus McDonald, sporting a train conductor's hat and a tartan waistcoat outside of his regular attire. He jumps up and around and all over the stage, just being his usual excited self.

    JS: Well Angus certainly looks happy as usual.

    PH: Well he shouldn't! If he loses this match it's gonna be a massive step backwards for him.

    JS: But if he wins… oh ho ho, he'll certainly have fun with what happens if he wins.

    PH: If they want a maid they should bloody well hire one! Lucas Thorp isn't qualified to clean up, or be anywhere near, The Immortal Highlanders!

    After enough jumping around Angus withdraws himself from all over the stage to just the centre of it. Looking out at the audience, he wears a huge smile while nodding, allowing everyone to know what's coming up. He, and half the audience, all raise their arms up into the air. Angus pulls up three fingers with his other hand and starts a slow count down on them.





    Angus grabs onto his hat and hurls it out into the audience before running down to the ring at a moderate speed, mainly so he can catch as many high fives on his way there. He slides in under the bottom rope and wastes little time in getting back onto his feet, quickly making his way over to the furthest turnbuckle and climbing up on it, blowing the whistle once again.


    Hopping off from the steel pole, Angus turns back to the ring and begins bouncing off of the ropes, giving them a quick test before the match itself actually starts.

    JS: Angus looks to be on top form tonight!

    PH: Well he'll have to, Joey, to stand a chance against Samson!!

    And as if it were reacting to the sound of his name, 'Sahti Waari' dies down as the sinister sounding anthem of Edward Samson blasts out through out the arena.

    [youtube]<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TZjR_G1q_AE&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TZjR_G1q_AE&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>[/youtube]

    The lights spazz out into colours, or more shades, of black and white. The Executioner slowly walks out, looking like the grim reaper himself, and accompanying The Dead Eyed Killer is Lucas Thorp who looks incredibly, incredibly angry. The pair stop for a brief moment on the stage, staring down the ring and straight into Angus McDonald's soul. The Scotsman doesn't look too worried though, as he performs a quick stretch or two.

    TC: And the opponent, hailing from Salem, Massachusetts and weighing in at 254 lbs - 'The Executioner' Edward Samson!

    JS: Look at the anger building up on Lucas Thorp's face… he's normally much more calm than this.

    PH: It's Angus. He's able to inspire a feeling of deep, deep hatred in anyone that has half a brain cell.

    The deadly duo walk down the ramp, obviously not in a hurry as they simply walk down to the ring. As they reach ringside, Lucas stands aside and hold his arm out, as if to be offering Edward to go up the steel steps. The Executioner can't turn down such a generous offer and wonders up to ringside, climbing in over the top rope and entering the ring. He stays on his side of the ring for now, simply staring at Angus. The Flying Scotsman exchanges the stare for a smile and a wave.

    JS: Angus obviously isn't taking this too seriously…

    PH: He takes nothing seriously, Styles. He's physically incapable of doing so. And he's a moron for not being able to!

    The referee calls both men into the middle of the ring before explaining a few routine rules to them. After a quick check for any concealed weapons on their person, The referee scurries off to ringside and calls for the bell.

    Ding! Ding! Ding!

    Once the bell has rung both competitor's leap right into the fray, going on the offence immediately. A lock up is applied in the centre of the ring, but Edward Samson is quick to show that he's not messing around at all tonight. Almost instantly, The Executioner shoves his opponent away and down to the ground. Angus rolls backwards and stands on one knee for a minute, staring at his hooded foe. The young Scot, not one to back down from a challenge, runs up to his opponent and shoves him right back, yelling out with a blood thirsty roar straight afterwards.

    JS: Wuh ho, Angus McDonald looks mad, I wouldn't want to be in Edward Samson's boots right now!

    PH: 'Course not! They're about seven sizes to big. And anyways, Edward probably doesn't care either way. He doesn't seem to care about anything. I can relate to that though - cause at the moment I'm watching too masked idiots fight it out for some reason and I couldn't care less.

    JS: Hey, that's hardly fair Heyman! These two have accomplished much in their short reign in TWOstars, and this match is to determine who'll be main eventing Wrestlenova! I think that's a pretty damn important reason.

    PH: Bah! Either way we lose!

    Samson, not pleased with Angus' comeback goes to throw a lariat his way. But Angus, having mastered the art of ducking punches, dodges down, spins around behind his opponent, grabs onto his other arm before dropping down to the floor, flipping the Dead Eyed Killer onto his back.

    JS: Oh ho, first arm drag of the match! Here's an idea to the older viewers at home - consume a shot of whiskey every time Angus does an arm drag!

    PH: Good lord, Styles, I hope you've got enough money to pay the flood of medical bills you'll receive for that 'game' of yours.

    Both men scurry back up their feet, and Angus follows up right away, jumping up into the air and planting two boots into the chest of Samson, dropkicking The Executioner back into the ropes. Edward stays standing though and waits for his opponent to get back up before going back on the attack. Ol' McDonald hops up and looks at Edward, motioning 'come on' with his hands.

    JS: Wow! This is a much more confident Angus McDonald than usual! Normally he'd charge in and try and stay dominant for as long as physically possible. Now he's actually asking his much larger opponent to attack him!!

    PH: He's confident, that's true, but he's over confident, cocky! And it'll be his downfall, lemmie tell you Styles. This kid can't withstand a lot of attacks, so if he's actually welcoming them then it's his funeral.

    Edward, not being one to argue with orders issued, charges his opponent. Just as he reaches him though, Angus tucks his arm underneath the Executioners' and tries to flip him over in a hip toss. Samson isn't willing to co-operate however and jumps in front of the Tartan Spartan before going for a hip toss of his own. In a sudden moment of déjà vu, Angus repeats the actions of his opponent and jumps round in front of him, as if to be going for another hip toss. But he mixes it up a little and instead grabs onto Edward's arm once again, drops to his back and floors the big man with another arm drag.

    JS: That's two!!

    PH: Give me a break…!

    The superstars are both quick to get back up, Edward being a little more sluggish than last time though, and immediately Angus retreats to the ropes. Bouncing off of them he darts over to his opponent who decides to let The Flying Scotsman get a closer look of the detail on the bottom of his size 11's as Edward goes for a big boot. Fortunately, The Tartan Spartan is able to evade and contact and continues running, ricocheting off the ropes. Edward, who has so far had no luck in catching his opponent, bends over and anticipates his return, setting him up for a back body toss.

    JS: I don't fancy Edward's chances here… this manoeuvre never seems to work!

    And, true to Styles' wisdom, Angus flips up and over his opponent and tries to bring him down into a sunset flip. Edward teeters back and fourth for a couple of seconds before regaining his balance and staring down at his opponent. Reaching down, he grips Angus McDonald around the neck and yanks him up from between his legs. But the Executioner, not aware of his own strength, ends up throwing Angus up and over him, causing The Tartan Spartan to roll down behind the masked man and get right back into the position of a sunset flip, this time successfully pulling him down into a pin.

    Joey Styles: Wow! After that quick exchange Angus ended up right back where he started!


    Kick out!

    PH: Ha! Not even a one count, Joey!!

    Breaking away from the pinning predicament, Edward rolls backwards and onto one knee but before even getting up to a full vertical base, he goes right back on the attack, grabbing onto Angus before he can get up. Samson holds him as if he had just delivered some sort of power bomb to him and then lifts him up from the canvas before slamming him right back down onto the mat. The move itself looked very sloppy and rather dangerous… Angus looks to be in pain.

    PH: And there we go! Angus has been prancing around all over the place like a little tartan fairy and the finally BAM! He gets hit with one move and it's all over!

    JS: Oh gee, Heyman, don't be too optimistic(!). He might not be down and out yet.

    PH: Don't break my hopes, you!

    Samson, still holding his opponent, initiates a pin.



    Kick out!!

    Samson stands up after Angus showing a sign of life, the big man obviously contemplating on what to do next. Meanwhile, at ringside, Lucas Thorp begins to yell, trying to grab the attention of his executioner. He succeeds. The pair begin to scheme at ringside and eventually Edward seems to know what his next move will be. He walks back over to Angus, who at this point was almost to his feet, and puts him right back down to the floor with a powerful double axe handle to his back.

    JS: Uh oh, Angus is lying face down on the mat… I think I know what he's going for here!

    PH: Gather the towns people and fetch some rotten fruit, Styles. Somebody's bein' put into the stocks!

    Samson crouches over the back of Angus, before grabbing onto The Scotsman's left arm and putting it over his knee. He then reaches for the other arm, but The Flying Scotsman finally decides to try and fight him off. Loosening his left arm from the hold, Angus starts wriggling around like a worm and trying to push Edward away with his arms. Eventually he's able to squirm free from the hold and scramble away, quickly getting to his feet and running to the ropes.

    JS: Poor choice there by Edward Samson… the odds weren't on his side in hitting that move.

    Angus bounces off the ring ropes and runs at his opponent who's still getting himself properly to his feet. The Flying Scotsman doesn't seem to mind too much though as he simply runs past his opponent to bounce off of the ring ropes on the other side. Edward doesn't quite realise where his opponent's gone, and before he can turn around Angus attacks. Spinning around to the front of his opponent, The Flying Scotsman is able to catch him in a spinning head scissors which, after a brain scrambling spin, ends with McDonald dropping to his back, holding onto the arm of The Executioner and flipping him down with an arm drag.

    JS: Oh ho ho, that's three!!

    PH: Shut up.

    Both men almost get up at the same time and right from the get go, Angus is ready to follow up with another attack. Running at his opponent, he jumps at Edward in such a way that forces The Executioner to catch him in a wheelbarrow hold. After pressing himself off the floor Angus springs out of the hold and grabs onto one of Edward's arms, falling to the ground and taking him down with yet another arm drag.

    JS: There's number four!

    PH: And if you say a number again that'll be how many seconds you've got to live!

    JS: Concentrate on the match at hand Paul E, stop being so unprofessional!

    PH: …!

    Once more, the competitor's both get up at similar times and, once more again, Angus goes right for an arm drag. This time though, as he tries to pull Samson onto his back, The Executioner decides that he's had enough. Standing his ground, and holding Angus by his arm, he delivers a downward fist to the chest of The Railroad Spike, nailing him three times. The force of the attack is almost enough to knock The Tartan Spartan off his feet. After this assault, Edward ushers his foe to the ropes before whipping him to the opposite side of the ring.

    JS: Edward seems back in control… but when Angus starts to run around that ring, anything can happen!

    Edward proceeds to the middle of the ring, readying a lariat in anticipation for his opponents return. As Angus runs to him though he ducks down, avoiding the lariat altogether. Not wanting this to be an opening for The Scotsman, Edward immediately turn around, chasing his opponent as he runs to the ropes. Just as The Flying Scotsman turns around to face his sadistic foe he's met by a lariat which sends him tumbling up and over the top rope, falling to the outside. Lucas Thorp, who is near The Tartan Express, laughs maliciously at his executioners work.

    JS: Oh man, that looked like it hurt… I don't think he'll be getting up from that in a hurry.

    PH: Hopefully he won't get up at all! I hate to see a match end in a count out but I'd love to see Angus' chances for appearing at Wrestlenova destroyed too!


    Lucas begins to kick into Angus as he lies helplessly on the floor below as Edward makes his way out of the ring. Before the referee can continue his count out, he attempts to sort out Lucas, clearly not happy with the interference. After some swift justice, Lucas backs off but that is hardly any relief to McDonald. Practically as soon as Thorp stops his attack Edward begins his.


    The Executioner picks Angus up from the ground and clubs his back with a heavy fist, sending him right back down onto his stomach. Edward drags him right back up to his feet and keeps a hold of him.

    JS: Uh oh… I think Edward has some evil intentions here…

    And indeed, he does. Samson runs Angus into the steel steps, trying to smash his back against the hard metal. But just as they're close enough to use the steel steps to their advantage, The Flying Scotsman hits the breaks, planting a foot on the steel steps and stopping both men where they stand.


    He quickly grabs on to Edward's head and brings it down onto the steel steps, resulting a painful looking blow and comically loud 'clang' sound.

    PH: That looked like it hurt! Whenever flesh fights metal, the winner is almost always the same.

    JS: So is that to say Edward's chances of beating 'The Insane Train' are incredibly low?

    PH: What are you, four!? Angus isn't made out of metal! The only similarity he has with trains is that both are lacking any form of intelligence!

    Edward's dazed, standing on the spot teetering slightly. Angus backs off from his opponent, getting some distance between them while still on the outside. Suddenly, The Flying Scotsman begins to run on the spot, spinning his arms around in train like motions, signalling to everyone that he's about to charge like a rhino. A steam powered rhino locomotive.


    Angus departs from the station and dashes right at his opponent, who has just this minute turned around. Edward notices his opponent just in time and before any damage can be dealt, he bends over. This catches The Railroad spike completely off guard, making him run headfirst into this trap. The Executioner stands up, flipping Angus up and over him with a back body drop and causing the Young Scotsman to land back first on the steel steps, making him emit a very audible scream of pain.

    JS: Oh my god! That was…ugh, that was inhuman!

    PH: Eh, little train had it coming to him. He's always running blinding into the face of danger.


    Angus falls off of the steps he was surprisingly balanced on and rolls around, clutching his back. Edward takes a few breathes as Lucas attend to his Executioner, presumably discussing a game plan with him for how to follow up. The pair discuss for a small while before Edward leaves his managers side and goes to continue the fight.

    JS: I don't like what they're doing, Heyman. I don't like it one bit!

    PH: What's not to like?

    JS: Edward is a force to be reckoned with alone, but when being given instant advice by the evil mind of Lucas Thorp, well… I just hope Edward knows a good hospital.

    PH: Or a good engineer, according to you and most of these dumb-ass fans!


    Dragging Angus up from the ground he simply rolls him back into the ring, obviously not done with him yet and not wanting to end this with a count out. Edward climbs up onto the apron and enters the ring over the top rope, not looking very threatened by his beaten opponent.

    JS: Well thank goodness the action's back in the ring… who knows what else could've happened there!?

    Now that both men are in the ring, Edward is still in the driver's seat. After the savage beating on the outside, Edward decides to go for the pinfall.



    Kick out!

    JS: Ha ha, there's life in the old dog... erm... train yet!

    PH: Not if Edward has anything to say about it...!

    Edward looks angered by this set back, but not disheartened. He Pulls Angus up off the ground and grabs hold of his arm and backs him into a corner. He then propels The Tartan Express into the turnbuckle opposite, introducing Angus' spine to a world of hurt and making The Immortal Highlander's official chiropractor a very happy man. But Samson isn't done yet, having chased his opponent as he ran, The Executioner immediately follows up with a lariat, knocking him senseless.

    PH: Angus better be thanking his lucky stars that Edward Samson's guillotine like arm isn't any shaper - that could've sliced his head clean off!

    Angus stumbles forward in a daze, the fact that he's even on his feet is quite an amazing feat to behold. But Edward has no plans to just stand by and let Angus recover. As The Scotsman wobbles weakly past his opponent, Edward grabs onto the back of his kilt and reels him in and clobbers him on the back of the head with a northern lariat.

    PH: Ha ha, a move like that will make Angus feel right at home - The Northern Lariat!

    JS: I know Angus is a fan of kidding around, but I doubt he'd see the funny side in what you just said there, Heyman.

    PH: Pfft, I don't care. But I think this is a case of a joke being funnier the more times you hear it.

    Edward drags Angus back up onto his feet and tucks his head in between his legs. He drags a thumb slowly across his neck, signalling for the end. He wraps his arms around the torso of Angus McDonald before picking him up onto his shoulders for a powerbomb. Just as the Scotsman seems totall out of it though, he shows his first sign of life in all too long. Shaking his head as if to be dusting away the cobwebs, Angus goes on to deliver rapid fire punches with both fists to the head of Edward Samson.

    JS: Looks like Angus has finally had enough of this merciless beatdown, Paul E! I think this could be the start of something big.

    PH: More like something stupid... most things involving Angus McDonald are.

    The Tartan Spartan is finally able to free himself from the hold and is able to land on his feet in front of his opponent. Right away he jets off to the ring ropes behind, rebounding from them and then, with a leap that'd make Michael Jordon go green with envy, jumps at his opponent and lands right back where he was initially, but pulling his body weight backwards, trying to for a hurricanrana.

    JS: Here we go, Paul E! No matter how many times I see this move, I'm always impressed.

    PH: Well it's a damn shame you won't be seeing it any time soon... look!

    Edward refuses to give in to Angus' move, and is able to keep hold of the Scotsman, despite the shift in weight. Before The Tartan Spartan can think of anything to counter this, The Executioner lifts him up and slams him right back down with a falling powerbomb.

    PH: Y'know what they say, Styles. If at first you don't succeed...

    Edward stands up on his knees before going for the pinfall once again, covering almost all of Angus' body.




    Kick out!

    JS: That was much too close for comfort!

    PH: I think the last thing on Angus' small, deprived mind right now is comfort, Styles.

    Edward's not a happy chappy. In fact, far from it. Let out a blood thirsty roar, Samson lifts Angus up from the canvas and lifts him up as if he were going for a spear like take down, but instead of just slamming him into the mat, he charges him into the turnbuckle, letting Angus back and the steel pole in the corner really get to know each other.

    JS: Edward Samson keeps isolating Angus, attacking him when he's vulnerable and keeping him in that position for as long as possible.

    PH: Attacking him when he's vulnerable, huh? Well that can't be too hard... Angus is pretty much always vulnerable.

    The Executioner, still with his shoulder in the Scotsman's chest, grabs onto the ropes on either side of the turnbuckle and rams into Angus several times. Each time he takes a break though, Angus is fast to rain down the pain of the Insane Train, attacking his opponent with recklessly thrown punches.

    JS: Both men are taking turns in attacking each other, it's become a battle for dominance here!! Which one will give up first?

    PH: The smart money's on Angus... but that kid never was too bright, now was he?

    With one last shoulder barge, The Scotsman finally doesn't follow up with an attack. Samson sees this as a sign of victory and decides to mix up his assault. Grabbing onto Angus, he hoists him up onto the turnbuckle, sitting him there on the top rope. Edward turns away for a moment taking a quick breath before following up. Climbing up to the second rope himself, Edward looks to be going for a high impact move.

    JS: Uh oh, this good be really huge or really unfortunate. It's called the high risk district for a reason, ya know!

    PH: I've never got why it's called that, y'know that Styles?

    JS: What!? What is there 'not to get'!? A simple slip or missed footing could result in a horrific accident!

    PH: No no, you idiot! Why's it called a district, it's just a metal pole.

    JS: Gah!

    Samson appears to be going for a superplex, standing on the second rope and setting Angus up for the move. But, as has been evident thus far, Angus isn't willing to make it easy for him. Throwing a number of blows into Edward's kidneys, he seems to be slowly making a dent in the big man's armour.

    JS; Angus certainly going to town on Edward there with a series of vicious strikes. And The Dead Eyed Killer is in no position to fight back!!

    Angus suddenly reaches round and grabs onto Edward's head, pulling it closer to himself before unleashing a vicious headbutt to the masked man. But not satisfied with just one, The Flying Scotsman follows up with two more and this is enough to knock The Executioner off of the turnbuckle and onto the canvas below.

    JS: An opportunity has just shown itself to Angus, and he's not to the sorta person to pass up one like this!

    PH: What was Edward doing!? Bah, just as I think I'm on his side he's finds a new way to disappoint me. I hope Angus slips and falls onto Samson, take both of the masked idiots out.

    Angus stands up tall on the top rope, staring down at his target and then giving the audience a brief look. Despite the beating he has endured, Angus is still able to brandish that psychotically pleasant smile before going for a big move from the tope rope. Well, that was the plan anyway. Lucas Thorp. not happy to stand by and watch his Executioner get squished, climbs onto the apron and grabs onto Angus' leg, yanking him off of it and quickly hopping down from the apron himself, acting as if he hadn't done a thing. Luckily, Angus lands on the apron unharmed, but he's still peeved at Thorp and decides to let him know this through the medium of offensive shouting.

    PH: Leave the poor manager alone, Angus ya bully! He's just looking out for his main man, Edward Samson.

    JS: I'm sure he can 'look out for him' without interfering with the match.

    PH: Yeah, you'd think so, wouldn't ya?

    With Angus technically outside the ring the referee has no other option than to begin the 10 count.


    As Angus sparks a heated conversation with Lucas Thorp he becomes blissfully unaware of the angered Execution, slowly getting up and approaching his foe. The Flying Scotsman finally decides to end the madness with The Lord Justice and turns back to the ring, just in time to get a swift right hand in the face. Angus falls back but by clinging onto the top rope, avoids falling off.

    JS: Geez louise, these guys seem to insist on going from one dangerous place to the next!

    PH: And still no serious injury!! Someone must be doing something wrong...!

    Edward swings at his opponent again but this time Angus ducks it and scurries off along the apron, away from The Executioner. Samson decides to close the gap between him and his opponent, climbing out of the ring and onto the apron. The Flying Scotsman seems to have been anticipating this though as he runs straight at his opponent, hitting him with a clothesline. Edward hardly flinches.

    PH: Pfft, well that went well!

    JS: Oh my...


    Being the fair man that he is, Samson decides to exchange Angus' attack with one of his own only his seem to have much more effect. Once again, a lariat from The Executioner almost knocks Angus off the apron altogether, the only thing keeping the Kilted Warrior on is a firm grip on the top ring rope. Angus retaliates with a bigger attack, hitting him in the chest and at least having an effect on the big man.

    PH: Now that's what I call a punch!!


    Edward throws another clothesline The Tartan Spartan's way, hitting it successfully again and almost making him fall over once more. This time it was so close it was embarrassing. But luckily, Angus is able to pull himself up with the upper ring rope. This time Samson readies himself for another strike, but, with a swift and unexpected move, The Railroad Spike is able to catch him off guard. Using the rope to partially propel himself up into the air, Angus flies upwards and headbutts Edward right in the jaw.

    JS: Now that's using your head, ha ha!

    PH: I'm gonna be using your head for my weekly game of tenpin bowling if you say another line like that again, Styles.


    Edward swings at his opponent, not letting on how much the headbutt actually hurt. But Angus quickly ducks down and flies at his opponent again, this time hitting him in the stomach with a headbutt, forcing The Big Man to keel over in agony.

    Angus rushes up to Edward and wraps an arm around his head. Lifting his free arm up in the air, he yanks it down twice, receiving a large cheer from the audience for doing so.

    JS: Oh my... what's he doing here...?


    Angus drops down onto his back, driving the head of Edward onto the apron with a risky looking DDT. After having his head planted onto the ground at the edge of the ring, Samson rolls off and onto the floor below. Angus however just lays down, hugging onto the bottom rope with one of his arms.

    PH: DDT onto the apron! Good god, that was beautiful!

    JS: You... you just openly complemented Angus McDonald!

    PH: Yeah? Well don't get used to it!

    Lucas immediately waddles round to his Executioner and instead of giving him a kind word of advice he simply yells at him in disappoint, with such a tone that could wake the dead (perhaps that's his intentions?). Angus on the other hand rolls into the ring and slowly gets back up onto his feet.


    Edward is still out of it, lying down on his back while being bombarded by every self-esteem shattering word under the sun by his dedicated manager. Angus is now fully up and is breathing deeply, just trying to recover from some of the heavy blows he's received so far.


    Edward starts to get up now, slowly sitting up initially before getting back onto his feet. McDonald seems to be observing this incredibly closely.

    JS: Hey… look at Angus…

    PH: Oh, don't make me…!

    JS: No seriously, look! He's staring at Edward as he's getting up…

    PH: I think someone might be in love.

    JS: Or he's planning a big move… look out!!

    Angus suddenly blasts off to the end of the ring opposite his opponent and bounces off the ropes. Travelling at a terrifying speed, he takes a huge jump, flying over the top rope and somersaulting through the air, landing on top of a now fully standing Edward with a suicide flipping senton (also narrowly avoiding Lucas Thorp).

    JS: Woah, geez! That was incredible!

    PH: He almost damn near killed himself… almost.

    Edward's right back to square one, while Angus gets up to one knee before smiling broadly, staring out at the audience and then lifting his arm up high only to yank it down twice in rapid succession. Almost as soon as he does this though, Lucas starts yelling abuse at the Tartan Spartan.


    Angus is able to fully get up and as soon as he does he begins yelling back at The Lord Justice, only Angus doesn't seem to be using actual words.

    JS: Oh my… if someone doesn't stop this, things could get ugly.

    PH: With Angus McDonald and Lucas Thorp involved, things have gone beyond ugly.


    Eventually the heated argument turns into a battle for volume, as each try to out yell the other. After Angus is quite literally just letting out scream after scream at the top of his lung, Thorp decides that he's had enough and spits on The Insane Train. The audience gasp at this, and McDonald stops where he is.

    PH: Ha ha, that's well overdue if you ask me!

    JS: Oh dear…


    Angus rubs his hand slowly down his masked face, rubbing off the saliva that's tainted his tartan. The Luchamotive slowly begins to smile though and suddenly reaches out in front of him, grabbing onto the tie of Lucas Thorp. Lifting up his other fist into the air, he stares out at the audience, nodding his head and smiling, asking for their opinion for what to do. Their opinion is unanimous. The audience want to see Angus deck Lucas.

    JS: Looks like Angus has decided to try and shut Thorp up once and for all!

    PH: Oh this isn't fair!! Hasn't Angus ever been taught to respect his elders.

    JS: Well that 'elder' just spat on him!

    PH: He couldn't help it! He's old - can't control all his bodily functions!


    Lucas is wriggling around, trying to escape, but is firmly held in place by his snappy piece of attire. Angus finally pulls his fist all the way back, ready to throw it full force into the increasingly red face of Lucas Thorp. But then, divine intervention. Samson comes up from behind and turns McDonald around before laying down the law with a huge Polish Hammer.

    PH: Ahh, thank goodness… justice, finally!


    Lucas regains his composure and goes back to yelling at the competitors, a small piece of his mad shouting coherent to most - 'Take him into that ring and FINSH HIM!' Edward obeys the orders given and lifts Angus up, rolling him into the ring before sliding in himself. The Executioner looks more tired than before, the toll of this match obviously getting to him a little.

    PH: So… I wonder how Angus will be sentenced to death. Hanging? The Chair? The Guillotine?

    JS: Don't count Angus out yet! There's still plenty of fight left in him!

    Edward drags the Tartan Express up to his feet and gets him in a position for a suplex. But before lifting him up, Samson hooks one of his legs, meaning that he's going for a fishermans suplex.

    PH: Ahh, Lethal Injection… of coure!

    So The Executioner lifts his opponent up completely vertically before bringing him down hard on his back, delivering a single fisherman suplex. But clearly not satisfied with just one, Edward rolls over and carries his opponent up from the mat with him before lifting him up and slamming him down backwards with another fisherman suplex.

    PH: And here comes number three…!

    Lifting Angus up once again, Edward looks to be going for the third part of 'The Lethal Injection' but suddenly he unhooks the leg. Grabbing onto the waist of Angus' kilt, he lifts him up into a normal suplex and takes him over to the ropes. He bends over forwards, bouncing, Angus' legs off the ropes before taking him back up for a rebound suplex.

    JS: Edward Samson with a beautiful rebound suple… wait a minute! Look at Angus! He's been able to escape the move and land behind him on his feet!

    PH: Bah! He shoulda just gone with a third fisherman suplex.

    Having escaped the clutches of The Executioner, The Tartan Express darts off to the ropes, slowly being followed by his opponent. But instead of bouncing off of them he jumps up, planting his feet on the second rope and spring boarding backwards, spinning around in midair with a huge flying cross body, straight at his opponent. Edward however, is not impressed, and simply catches his opponent in mid air.

    PH: Ha ha, oh well! Easy come, easy go.

    With Angus back on Edward's side of the yard, The Executioner looks slightly unsure at what to do. He soon reaches a decision, however, and simply drops forward, slamming the Insane Train to the floor and landing all his body weight on him with a move that'd make Mark Henry proud. Lying on top of his opponent, Edward finds himself on the better half of a pinning predicament.




    Kick out!

    PH: Why won't he just pack it in and give up!?

    JS: Cause ye' can tak' his life! But ye'll never tak' his freedom!!

    PH: What!?

    JS: Nothing.

    Edward looks astonished, as does his manager Lucas Thorp, who soon, predictably, just gets angry again. His normally calm and collected self is nowhere to be seen tonight as he is desperate to pick up a win here. The Lord Justice shouts for his Executioner's attention, obviously having yet another plan up his sleeves. The Dead Eyed Killer goes up to his manager to hear what he has to say. After a while of yelling, almost everyone in the arena realised what he said.

    JS: Did he… did he just say…?

    PH: The Boyo Leaflock! Ha ha, innovated by Boyo and damn near perfected by Edward Samson.

    JS: This is definitely not a move Angus wants to find himself in… with the beating his back received tonight, I can't see him lasting much longer.

    Samson goes right back onto the attack and grabs his floored opponent's legs, trying to lock them into the right position. Angus immediately realises what's happening and tries to fight him off, kicking his legs and wriggling around, doing anything within his power to prevent this hold from being locked in. Unfortunately for the Young Scot, he seems to be failing.

    JS: Lucas must be really desperate to win this… he normally reserves this move for the biggest of occasions…

    PH: This IS a big occasion, Styles! This is for a chance to main event Wrestlenova! Don't get much bigger than that!

    Samson turns him over onto his stomach, getting the move properly locked in. The rush of pain that suddenly strikes Angus is almost overwhelming, The Tartan Spartan letting out a huge squeal of agony. He begins running his arms against the floor, trying to drag himself over to the ring ropes and escape this torture. Although he begins to make progress, Edward still has the hold locked in and applies more pressure to the Luchamotive.

    JS: Oh man, this is painful to watch…!

    PH: Painful to watch!? Imagine how Angus must feel, ah ha ha!

    Very gradually, Angus drags them over to the ropes, closer and closer until he's almost in reaching distance of them. He stretches his arm out, trying to grab onto them, trying to end this almost intolerable pain that he's going through. But he's not close enough, He comes up just a little short, and the hold is still locked in.

    JS: How much more of this can Angus take!?

    PH: Not much more… that's the move that made Sickness tap! If it can make Sickness tap it'll make anyone else tap!

    Angus tries to drag them towards the ropes once again but this time his attempts are futile. He can't do anything more now other than scream out in pain and reach for the ropes. To add to this horrible moment in Angus' life, Lucas Thorp appears in front of him, hurling insults at the Scotsman and laughing at him.

    JS: Good god, can't he just stay out of this and mind his own business!?

    PH: This IS his business, Styles! This is practically his last chance at getting revenge on Arron Winter and Sickness!

    Lucas reaches his arm in the ring and point at the Tartan express, continuing his barrage of insults. Angus can't take anymore. He slowly raises his arm up into the air, thinking about any other options he may possibly have. But none seem to show themselves. His only option left is possibly the hardest thing he's had to do in his career. This was it - his spot at Wrestlenova, going just like that. So with his arm held up in the air he closes his eyes and bears his teeth.

    PH: Here it comes! Oh, fetch the champagne, Joey!

    Angus brings his hand down to… not the canvas, but rather Lucas Thorp's sleeve. He grabs a tight hold of the mans jacket with one of his hands and then his other. He uses it like a rope, pulling himself along it and closer to the ring ropes. Thorp looks distraught, fighting desperately to break free. But it's too late - Angus is able to shorten the distance that little bit more and reaches for the ropes once again, grabbing a firm hold of 'em and initiating a rope break!

    PH: I… I… don't believe it…

    JS: He did it! He got to the ropes! And just think, if Lucas wasn't there he might've been rejoicing to the sound of Edward's theme music right now!

    Edward keeps the hold locked in, but the referee begins the five count to try and get him off.






    Edwards lets go, wanting to inflict more pain on Angus but knowing that if he kept it locked in, that'd be the end of the match.

    PH:[b/] Well… that move didn't beat him… but think about it, Angus just went through a hell of a lot of pain there. Surely it'll be easy to finish him off now!

    Angus stays down, patting his back with a clenched fist. But Samson isn't willing to give him a break as he goes over to his opponent and picks him up, grabbing him right away in a DDT position and dragging him to the middle of the ring. He then crosses Angus' arms, the moe that he's going for becoming immediately guessable.

    PH: I think he's The Calcraft Noose - this could finish off Angus once and for all!

    Just as Edward is about to lift him up, Angus rams his shoulder into the stomach of Edward Samson. This delays him for a moment but he still tries to carry on with the move. The Flying Scotsman decides to make it abundantly clear that he's not willing to cooperate. Hitting him twice more in the gut with a shoulder barge, Angus gets himself free of the hold and immediately follows up by jumping into the air and hitting Samson in the jaw with a head butt.

    JS: Oh jeez! I hope Samson has a good dentist!

    Angus then stops for a moment, patting his own back again and rubbing it slightly, still feeling the pain of the cloverleaf. He does his best to ignore it though as he blasts off to the ring ropes and bounces off of them. Returning to his faceless foe, The Flying Scotsman jumps up at the big man and tries to take him down with a flying lariat. Although the strike hits, it's not enough to take Samson off his feet and the big man stays standing. But being the tenacious fellow that he is, Angus doesn't give up and rushes off to the ropes once more.

    JS: If at first you don't succeed…!

    PH: Try until your opponent knocks you flat on your ass. Is that how it goes, Stlyes?

    The Flying Scotsman comes at him with another flying clothesline but once again it leaves the big man stumbling, not actually falling over. Angus scratches his head for a moment, not sure what to do. A smile then pops onto his face before he goes to kick The Executioner square in the stomach, forcing him to bend over. Running off to the ring ropes, he ricochets off them before charging at his keeled over foe.

    JS: Hang on… is he gonna use a move from the playbook of a certain five time WCW world champion…?

    Angus, runs right past his opponent, and back to the ropes, picking up speed as he moves. But before he bounces off of them he jumps up and off of the second rope, spring boarding across the ring and turning around in mid air, landing one of his legs on the back of Edward's neck and taking him down with a springboard rocker dropper.

    JS: Wuh ho! He normally calls that move 'The Train Hop' but that was more like a Train leap of faith!

    Angus immediately goes for the cover.




    Kick out!

    JS: The Executioner is possibly even more tenacious than Angus… I don't know what Angus can do to put him away tonight!

    PH: He's not gonna 'put him away tonight' Styles. Samson's in a whole 'nother league to Angus!

    JS: Oh really? Is that why Angus is responsible for Edward's first submission loss?

    PH: Hey, that was just sheer luck!

    Angus sits up for a minute, looking around, not sure hot to proceed. His eye suddenly catches sight of the turnbuckle and a smile emerges once again as he realises what he's gonna do. Slowly getting up from the floor, The Flying Scotsman goes over to the turnbuckle and mounts it cautiously, sitting himself on the top turnbuckle before advancing to standing on the very top.

    JS: Angus is a risk taker, that's for sure, but is this risk really worth taking?

    PH: Sure it is - if he hits it, Samson will kick out of the pin and if he misses, well Angus will be in a whole world of hurt! Everybody's happy!

    He crouches down, on the stop rope, staring down at his opponent and calculating his jump before doing the actual move. Just as he's about to leap off though, Lucas Thorp intervenes once again, climbing up to the apron and clutching onto the leg of Angus McDonald, making sure he isn't going anywhere.

    JS: Oh come on now, enough is enough! This just isn't fair

    PH: I think it's a wonderful thing! He's looking out for his Executioner, making sure he doesn't get to badly banged up!

    JS: Well he has no place in this match! It's supposed to be a fair competition between Angus McDonald and Edward Samson.

    The pair begin struggling, Lucas desperately trying to pull him off or force him to stay put while Angus is just trying to keep his balance. You can hear the pair shouting at each other again, The Flying Scotsman telling him to let go while Thorp yells obscenities that'd make Gordon Ramsey blush.

    JS: It's almost worrying how desperate Lucas wants this win…

    PH: Of course he wants to win! Nobody likes losing, and the stipulation for this match is a big one!!

    After more battling for control, Angus suddenly kicks at the portly manager, shoving him away with his foot and falling off of the apron to the floor below.

    PH: Assault! Assault! Quickly, call the police!

    JS: What!?

    PH: He just kicked a frail old man for kicks, that's just unacceptable!

    JS: Oh come on now, Lucas had been interfering through out this whole match… he's just getting his just desserts right now!

    The crowd all let out a huge cheer at seeing Lucas hit down to the floor, but unfortunately The Flying Scotsman doesn't have much time to celebrate as Edward is back up and is ready to get back on the offensive. He climbs up the turnbuckle, landing two clean punches on Angus' face and forcing the Scotsman to sit down on the top turnbuckle. He wraps his arm around Angus' neck, obviously planning on taking down The Railroad Spike 'the hard way'.

    JS: Uh oh… this could be really dangerous - it always raises the hairs on the back of my neck when wrestlers scrap on the turnbuckle like this.

    Before Edward can do anymore though, Angus starts fighting back, punching either side of Edward with both of his arms. Although the strikes don't look very strong, they're plentiful and certainly seem to be making an impact on the big man. Eventually The Tartan Spartan stops his rapid fire blows and then wraps his arm around the stomach of Edward Samson.

    PH: Oh no… it can't be…!

    Angus let's out a huge battle cry that'd make William Wallace proud before jumping forward, flipping through the air and landing on his back, taking Samson with him and devastating him with a Ranhei from the top rope. The crowd go berserk, hysterical that Angus was able to hit such a big move.


    PH: Tch, aww… this isn't…

    JS: OH MY GOD!! LOOK!!

    Bringing a sharp halt to the crowds cheering, Edward Samson gets right up from the devastating finisher move, roaring out loud and looking grimly at the still fallen Angus McDonald. The Flying Scotsman can't believe it, neither can most the audience. The jaw's of half of the arena, not to mention Angus McDonald, have well and truly dropped. But as quickly as he can, The Tartan Spartan scrambles up to his feet and dives at his opponent, wrapping his arm around Edward's stomach and flipping forward, taking him right back down with another Ranhei.

    JS: I can't believe it… Edward just… he just…

    PH: He got up only to get put back down… I can't believe it either.

    JS: Well anyway, it looks as if that really was The Last Stop this time! Angus is going for the pin.

    Hardly moving from the position he and his opponent are in after the move, Angus covers Edward with his hand.




    Ding! Ding! Ding!

    TC: And the winner of this match, by pinfall - 'The Flying Scotsman' Angus McDonald!!

    Sahti Waari by Turasis hit's the Omegatron as Angus tries to hop up to celebrate but falls back down to the floor, clutching his back with one hand in agony. Eventually though, with the help of the referee, Angus gets up to his feet and raises his arm up high into the sky.

    JS: Well there we have it! Angus is still going to Wrestlenova! And… well… Lucas Thorp will have to do his side of the bargain.

    PH: Lucas Thorp cleaning up after The Immortal Highlander's for two weeks!? Poor guy!

    JS: Yeah… if he wasn't such an evil b*stard, you'd almost feel sorry for him, wouldn't ya?

    PH: I feel sorry for anyone that has to deal with those Scottish idiots!!

    Edward lies in the ring on his side, his glance meeting with his disgruntled manager. Lucas Thorp is not happy at all. The Lord Justice is shouting at Edward, incredibly frustrated that he's lost again. He shakes his head and continues yelling, But in complete contrast to this unhappy scene is Angus, who has made his way out of the ring and is currently walking up the entrance ramp, still holding his arm up high in victory, with his other arm patting his back.

    JS: The match may be over but the effects of it are still in effect… Angus' back went through hell in that match and Edward has another loss added to his rather unfortunate 'streak' so to speak.

    PH: Not to mention the stipulation still has to be fulfilled. If Angus thought this was a challenge, he better just wait 'till Wrestlenova. And it's anyones guess how Lucas Thorp will deal will his obligation at the next XTV, oh my…!

    The camera takes another look at Angus who's standing on the stage, still rasing his arm in the air, just really happy that he was able to pull out the win. Then we catch a glimpse of Edward who still lies in the ring. It's clear that he could've gotten up a while ago but at the moment he probably feels like a failure. Lucas Thorp's kind words probably aren't helping either. But with this match well and truly over, the camera fades to black and we cut to a commercial for the sponsers of No Remorse; After Eights, the mint of Gods, Kings and people who think they are posh despite actually being solid working class or lower.
  4. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000
    WEB: Now... goodness...

    TG: We’re here to talk about Randy based on everything he’s done as a whole, and not necessarily focus on his most recent actions.

    WEB: True, for a long time Randy Roko was loved by everybody and found himself huge success by claiming the Television championship on three separate occasions.

    TG: Only one of two men to do it!

    WEB: But tonight we are looking towards one of his darkest feuds – going back to a time when everything seemed perfect for Randy.

    TG: He had found love in the shape of Cari-Dee, but then things took a twisted turn when the TV champ, Maxx, took a rather sinister interest in the lady.

    WEB: That’s putting it mildly, and so we saw things escalate between Maxx and Randy until in December of 2009 they were locked inside a barbed wire steel cage together to decide who was walking out with the belt.

    TG: With the razor sharp wire wound in between every inch of the cage, in and out, and knowing he had to fight for love, I can’t wait to see how Randy fared against the sick and depraved mind of Maxx...

    TWOstars – Season’s Beatings 2009
    Television championship

    (barbed wire steel cage)
    Maxx(c) VS Randy Roko​

    We fade back to the ring, where the excited and cheering TWOStars fans cheering all around the arena, signs being shown all around the arena. We do a quick sweep, before switching to a shot of Jim and Paul.

    Jim: Welcome to the most barbaric match of the night ladies and gentlemen.

    Paul: Indeed, this will be full of blood, full of tears, and full of sweat.

    Jim: A barbed wire steel cage match. And not the kind you see in WWE, no this cage has barbed wire fed through the mesh.

    Paul: And the two superstars involved are... The Maxx, and Randy Roko. This is also for the Television Championship.

    Tony Chimmel stands up next to the commentators table, and the fans cheer excitedly as he begins his announcement.

    Tony: Ladies and gentlemen, the following is a Barrrrrrrrbed wiiiiiiree caaaaagee maaaaaaaaaatch! And it is for the Teeeeeleeeevissssiooooon Chaaaaaaaampiiiioooonshiiiiip!


    From high up in the rafters, a barbaric steel cage begins to lower down. Deadly, destructive barbed wire fed through the mesh, in nearly every corner and hole. Not even the door is free from the overgrowth of barbed wire.

    Jim: Holy... And two men will fight in this!?

    Paul: Two men that hate each other...!

    The barbed wire steel cage lowers into place, and as soon as it is stood still, Chimmel announces the first competitor...

    Tony: Ladies and gentlemen, weighing in at 212 lbs... Standing at a height of 6ft 2... Hailing from Irvine Scotland, The Challenger, Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaandy Roooooooookooooooo!

    [YOUTUBE]<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z5hRoz5Mok4&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Z5hRoz5Mok4&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>[/YOUTUBE]


    The fans in attendance rise from their seats to cheer for their local hero, who they hope will put this monster down tonight and finally get revenge. The lights turn off, and search lights appear, scrounging through the crowd like a stray dog through trash.

    Jim: And how will the ‘Rolling Pirate’ Roll in tonight?

    Paul: That was so cheesy Ross.

    The snap-light snaps on to the stage, and shows the man himself, Randy Roko standing at the top of the ramp, dressed in only a black over-coat with white lining, and yellow pirate trousers with black lining and boots. He raises both fists in the air suddenly, causing red pyrotechniques to go shooting off left, right and centre.


    Jim: The man looks focused, looks ready, tonight Paul!

    Paul: He needs to be, he can’t walk into that un-prepared!

    Roko begins walking down the ramp, his eyes locked on the barbaric structure that he must do war in. He pauses at a few groups of fans, reaching into his overcoat; he yanks out golden chocolate coins and throws them in a wide arc into the crowd.

    Randy walks backwards and turns, doing the same thing to the other side of the ramp as he turns; gaining a massive crowd cheer as he does so. Randy turns his head towards the camera, and walks into it, doing a slit throat action to the hard-cam, obviously directed at The Maxx.

    Jim: And Roko trying to play mind games before Maxx is even out.

    Paul: Maxx is the mind game player, he won’t get played.

    Roko turns towards the cage, taking a breather; he marches towards the demonic structure, throwing his overcoat into the crowd as he does so.

    Jim: You know, most people say that Hell in a Cell is the most barbaric structure invented, others say The Elimination Chamber, but I have to say that this structure in itself can be almost just as deadly.

    Paul: Hmm, you have a point.

    Randy walks up to the barbed wire door, and one of the three officials around the ring opens the door with gloves on for Roko to enter. Roko pauses, taking one last look around before entering the structure. The official leaves the door open for Maxx to enter as ‘Guardians of Fate’ by Ensiferum cuts out by the sound guys.

    Paul: The nerves must be mounting; this is the biggest match Randy has ever competed in; the most deadly, dangerous and hyped.

    Jim: Bigger than WrestleNova?

    Paul: Yes, I’d say so.

    Tony: And introducing the Champion! Hailing from Steele City, weighing in at 260 lbs, he stands at a height of 6ft 1... Theeeeeeeeeeeee Maaaaaaaaaxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx!

    [YOUTUBE]<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/msblv3M-47c&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/msblv3M-47c&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en_US&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>[/YOUTUBE]

    In tune to the music, the lights flicker on and off, and all fans turn to the ramp, jeering and booing the man that has tortured Randy and Cari for months. Randy slowly traces his eyes up the ramp to await the appearance of his arch enemy.

    Jim: And here he comes, on his way down this ramp to end things once and for all.

    The man himself storms out of the curtain, the black bag trailing across the ground as he storms half way down the ramp before halting, his maniac eyes glaring up at the demonic structure with a look of barely contained rage and glee.


    Maxx slowly begins walking towards the demonic structure, as if a child approaching a stray dog. His face grinning a grin like a child who has discovered a new toy to play with, he stands beside the cage and reaches out with one hand to touch the cage, cutting his hand in the process.

    Jim: He’s a psychopath.

    Paul: But he’s also our champion.

    Maxx reluctantly pulls himself away from his new ‘toy’ and stomps towards the door, handing the black belt to one of three officials outside the ring; he walks inside as ‘Devil’s Son’ by DevilDriver cuts out.

    Jim: And a total of four officials out here tonight to make sure nothing happens post-match.

    Paul: Like they can do anything!

    Maxx climbs through the ropes carefully, and glares over at Roko, who glares back. The two men close the distance between each other, months of hatred just lashing out as the two land body blows on the other!

    Jim: They’re not waiting for the bell!


    Roko and Maxx land shot after shot onto each other, neither backing down, and one of the officials hurriedly closes the door, rushing as he does so and the bell is rung.


    Maxx launches an elbow into the face of Randy, knocking him backwards, but Randy is soon back on the offensive, he runs up to Maxx and rugby tackles him down to the canvas, where the two brawl with fists.

    Jim: This is just an all out brawl, and we’ve just started!

    Paul: This is months of hate and aggression built up into one burst.

    Maxx manages to land a devastating elbow into the head of Roko, sending the pirate falling backwards off of ‘Steele City’s Residential Psycho’. Maxx returns to his feet quickly, moving over to Roko and grabbing his head, he yanks him up to his feet, pulling him into the middle of the ring he drops him back down with a neck-breaker.

    Jim: And Maxx gaining control.

    Paul: And it’ll stay that way!

    Maxx returns to his feet quickly, pushing himself up with two hands. He looks down at Roko, who struggles to his own feet. Maxx awaits Roko to fully get to his feet; and when he does so Maxx charges forward with his arm outstretched. Roko however manages to duck underneath the arm due to reaction’s, and Maxx carries on, rebounding off the ropes (carefully as to not touch the barbed wire) he returns where Roko jumps up, extending his legs into Maxx’s chest, dropping both men.

    Jim: Perfect Standing Dropkick there from Randy.

    Paul: And remember, this is also for the Television Championship.

    Randy returns to his feet quicker than Maxx does, and Randy raises his right arm up to the crowd quickly, before bringing it down on Maxx’s chest as he returns to his feet with a perfectly times chop, Maxx stumbles back, before retaliating with a chop of his own, which sends Randy stumbling back a couple of steps.

    Jim: And the old who backs down first.

    Roko hits back with another tremendous chop, which echo’s throughout the entire arena, and Maxx’s knee’s buckle as he steps back a couple of steps. Maxx retaliates with a clothesline, which surprises the pirate who is caught by the surprise move. Maxx stands above the downed form of Roko with a psychopathic grin.

    Paul: And now Maxx is starting to feel this match!

    Roko sits up, and Maxx shoot’s out a hand, grabbing him by his long hair, dragging him up, Roko yells in pain as he stands up, Maxx turns and yanks Roko towards the barbed wire, but Roko manages to evade it by dropping down to the canvas, surprising Maxx and dragging him down, Roko manages to perform an arm drag in the opposite direction he was heading. (Therefore into the middle of the ring)

    Jim: And Roko with a comeback!


    Paul: Roko was so close to going head first into the barbed wire there!

    Roko, realising how close that was inspects the barbed wire he nearly went face first into, before turning to face Maxx who is using the ropes to pull himself up. Roko walks over to him but Maxx lashes out with a boot to the gut, doubling the pirate over, Maxx runs forward, bending down, he grabs Roko by the thigh and pulls him up before dropping him down on his spine in front, performing a Spine-buster.

    Jim: Nice Spine-buster there from Maxx.

    Maxx drops down on-top of Randy, landing with numerous body blows and elbows to the forehead. Randy eventually manages to shove Maxx off of his body, and both return to their feet, Maxx looks over at Roko near one side of the ring and charges at him, Roko grabs Maxx’s head and moves to the side, trying to push his face into the steel cage wall! Maxx however manages to stop himself by dropping down to his knees, and with Roko behind him he launches his elbow into his gut before returning to his feet with a spinning uppercut!


    Paul: And what back and forth action since the very start.

    Jim: Indeed, both men have nearly been introduced to the barbed wire.

    Paul: I heard the barbed wire doesn’t like new people.

    Jim: ...

    Paul: What? Just trying to make, like a metaphor.

    Jim: Do you even know what a metaphor is?

    Paul: ...Oh, Maxx mounts Randy!

    We find that the sudden topic swerve is correct, and indeed Maxx has mounted the prone form of Randy who is lying on the canvas. Maxx lays into the ‘Rolling Rok’ with right and left hands, causing the pirate to cover up to try to minimise the damage.

    Jim: And Randy now in a precarious... wait, what’s Maxx doing?

    Maxx dis-mounts Roko, and moves over to the steel wall. A psychopathic grin creeps onto his face as he grabs a loose piece of barbed wire with his right hand (gloved) and yanks it out of place with one vicious movement. Grinning, he slowly wraps the piece around his gloved hand, drawing hatred from the crowd as Roko crawls over to the corner in the ring.

    Jim: Oh no... I don’t like this.

    Paul: It’s a barbed wire steel cage match, you’re not going to like ANYTHING in it Jim!


    Maxx finishes wrapping the barbed wire piece around his fist fully, and turns into the ring again. He walks across the ring so he is standing a couple of feet away from Roko, nearing striking distance, he can be seen tensing his barbed wire hand as Roko uses the ropes to pull himself up.

    Jim: Oh no, I can’t watch!

    Paul: I sure as hell can!!

    Roko returns to his feet fully, and turns to face Maxx, just as Maxx lunges forward with a right hook with the barbed wire fist, Roko’s instinct’s kick in, his head dodges sideways as Maxx’s hand continues into the cage wall, where it gets stuck! Maxx screams in pain as the mass of barbed wire cuts through his glove into his hand.


    Paul: What!? NO!

    Jim: Yes! Correction, I can watch this Paul!

    Roko, taking advantage of the fact that Maxx’s arm is stuck in amongst all the barbed wire, spins around and lashes out with a spinning clothesline; which then yanks Maxx’s hand out from the barbed wire mass and sends him flying to the floor where he clutches his bleeding hand.





    Paul: Oh god! How dangerous was that?!

    Jim: Well, it IS a barbed wire steel cage match Paul...

    Paul: Shut it!

    Maxx writhes on the canvas in agony, clutching his right hand in pain. Roko walks over, hauling Maxx up buy his left arm, he quickly moves around behind Maxx and shoves him towards the cage wall once again, but this time Maxx manages to halt himself just in time. Roko, seeing his plan failed moves back a bit before running up to seemingly crush him into it. Maxx turns, and drops down, grabbing Roko’s legs he straightens his back, lifting Roko high up in the air and dropping back as he does so, sending Roko chest first into the steel cage wall.


    Jim: Bah god! Oh my god!


    Jim: Think of the barbed wire for Christ sake!

    Roko falls back to the canvas, landing with a thud which shakes the ring. Cuts scatter his body, blood seeping out from various, severe looking cuts scattering his front. Boo’s rain down upon Maxx, who grins insanely as he spreads his arms wide, drawing in the boo’s.

    Jim: That man is insane.

    Roko dazedly tries to sit up, and Maxx grabs him with his good hand, yanking him up to his feet, Roko stumbles around, clutching his chest were cuts are scattered all around. Maxx lifts the challenger to his title up on his shoulders, and drops down side-wards.

    Jim: Death Valley Driver!


    Maxx remains seated for a pin attempt, trying to see if he can end it here.


    Jim: C’mon Roko!


    Paul: He’s got it!!!

    THR- Kick out!


    Jim: Still fight in the pirate after that devastating combo!

    Paul: Calm down Ross, it’s not Mortal Kombat.

    Maxx returns to his feet, the psychopathic grin still on his face. He raises his right fist, still covered in barbed wire, and dripping with blood. Maxx bends down with his left hand, picking up Roko by the hair again, and hauling him up to his two feet. Maxx lands a devastating body blow with the right barbed wire, causing more deadly cuts to gash on his body and a scream of agony to echo throughout the arena. Maxx then lands a blow onto Roko’s right leg with the right hand, causing Roko to go down to one knee.

    Jim: Roko in a precarious position...

    Paul: Ind-

    Jim: LOW BLOW!!!


    Maxx drops down to the canvas holding his family jewels, as Roko escaped the precarious and dangerous predicament. Roko’s trousers are slashed open, and blood oozes out from deep cuts over his body.

    Paul: How bloody dirty!!

    Roko moves across to the ring ropes, taking a breather as blood seeps out of newly found crevices in his body. (I don’t know if that made sense or not...) Roko turns, grabbing at two loose pieces of Barbed wire in the cage wall (poor craftsmanship I say) and quickly wraps them around his two fists. He walks over to the downed form of Maxx, pulling him over into the middle of the ring.

    Jim: Uh Oh, I do NOT like this!

    Paul: He can’t be going for...

    Maxx fights back! He realises what Roko was planning and sends an unplanned kick in his direction, kicking him in the gut and doubling him over. Maxx scrambles to his feet painfully and charges into Roko, who puts his barbed wire hands up to protect himself, but it does no good as the charging form of Maxx forces him all the way across the ring and into the cage (with Maxx leaning against him, basically Maxx pushed him all across the ring and squashed him into the side of the cage)


    Jim: Bah gawd, what carnage! Roko’s back must be in agony!

    Paul: Not to mention Maxx’s chest! And Roko’s! God-damn, blood everywhere!

    Indeed, blood has now stained the ring, the bodies and the clothes of the two wrestlers in the ring (the referee is clean as he has avoided everything by standing in the corner.) Roko’s eyes are closed in agony, and Maxx is clutching his wounded chest.

    Jim: That move hurt both competitors there Paul.

    Paul: God, both of these men just looking to put the other out of action, by the looks of it, I’d say Roko was gonna attempt a Rocky Ride with the two Barbed Wire fists!

    Most fans are on the edge of their seats, watching the action with bloodthirsty eyes, as if not enough blood had been spilled already to quench their thirst. Maxx stumbles back, clutching his torn t-shirt and chest as Roko just leans against the cage wall, entangled between the barbed wire.

    Jim: Oh god, he’s entangled in the barbed wire!

    Maxx, grinning a sick grin, takes a few steps back before running forward and crashing into Roko, driving him deeper into the barbed wire and making him let out a deeper, more agonised yell.


    Jim: Oh c’mon now!

    Paul: Roko knew what he was getting into when he walked into that cage.

    Roko is now even more entangled into the barbed wire, which ruthlessly cuts into his flesh like a butter knife through warm butter. Roko screams in pain, as Maxx just grins a sick grin.




    Maxx walks up to the form of Roko, and gets in the helpless man’s face, trash talking him, telling him he is worthless and this is a walk in the park for Maxx, and that Cari is probably disappointed. (The camera somehow overhears) Maxx is unable to mutter another word, as Roko manages to get his right arm and torso free in fury, and grabs Maxx’s head with his right hand, driving it into the barbed wire next to Roko with force enough to shake the cage.


    Jim: What retaliation from Roko!

    Paul: Retaliation? That was down-right assault! Brutal, cold assault!

    Maxx stumbles back, grasping his forehead in agony as he drops down to his knees. Roko uses this opportunity to carefully use his right hand to dislodge him-self from the many tangles of barbed wire encircling him.

    Roko manages to pick him-self from the debris, and walks to the centre of the ring with blood trickling and dribbling down his body.

    Jim: The consequences of this match scare me badly...

    Paul: At the end of the day we will have a winner, which is for certain.

    Jim: But at what cost?

    Paul: Anything it takes.

    Jim: But why? Pride? The title? Is it worth risking this permanent injury?

    Paul: In their heads, yes.

    Roko walks over to the barely moving form of Maxx, grabbing his hair he yanks him up to his feet to reveal a crimson mask covering the face of Maxx, a deep cut emitted from his forehead. Roko boots Maxx in the gut powerfully, doubling the current Television champion over, Roko Irish whips him into one of the corners, which are thankfully non barbed wire filled. Roko raises both arms up to the crowd, roaring a battle cry as he then charges full out at Maxx... Who takes a few steps forward...

    Jim: Oh god! Oh GOD!

    Paul: Flapjack into the cage corner!!!

    Jim: Replay!!


    Jim: God, that looked painful!

    Paul: And the landing on the way down must not have helped either!

    Jim: No, I doubt it did.

    Maxx, a bloody mask covering his face, uses the ropes to haul his body up to its feet, and notices the downed form of Randy, also covered in blood hardly moving after the dangerous move. Maxx’s eyes go wide with rage as he wipes his own blood from his face, and he stares around the ring, looking for a new weapon to inflict damage with, his eyes find something...

    Jim: What’s he using...?

    Paul: He’s using the...

    Maxx storms over to the door, noticing it wasn’t sealed properly due to the rush of the official at the start of the match, puts both hands against the door frame, and yanks the entire barbed wire covered door of its hinges!


    Paul: ...The door!?

    Jim: No... Hell no...!

    Paul: Oh Hell yes!

    Maxx pulls the barbed wire door into the ring, as Roko uses the ropes to shakily and barely return to his feet. Maxx shouts over at Roko, and runs right at him with the door, intending to crush Roko between the door and the cage, but Roko counters! Roko drops down with a drop toe hold, sending Maxx crashing face/chest first into the door! (He was holding it in-front)


    Jim: Oh god! I fear for his health!

    Paul: No! No! NO!

    Maxx basically stops moving, his entire body entangled with barbed wire, as Roko returns to his feet. Seizing the chance, he moves the door into the centre of the ring, also turning Maxx around so his front is facing upwards and we can see his face, hopping over it he jumps up on the opposite ropes and rebounds with a lion-sault onto Maxx!

    Jim: Bah gawd! He’s killing him!!

    Paul: No... make him stop!

    The crowd pop HUGE as Roko remains stationary over the bloodied, broken form of Maxx, entangled in barbed wire as the referee springs into action.


    Jim: He’s got it surely!?


    Paul: Nooo!

    THRE- Roko lifts Maxx’s shoulder!

    Jim: What?!

    Paul: Whatever, I don’t care why he done it, but my man is still in this thing!

    The referee is going ballistic at Roko, obviously he wants this ended now. Roko just shakes his head, before looking up at the top of the steel cage, where it’s wide enough for one person to stand...


    Jim: No. Way.

    Paul: No... It’d kill him... No, Roko, NO!

    Roko picks himself up, stumbling towards the cage, he props himself up on the top rope, and quickly scales the cage, no doubt cutting and scratching his hands in the process, he swings one leg up onto the rafter of the cage then hauls his whole body up, carefully standing up, he takes a look around the arena. While this is going on, this is going on...

    Jim: No, Roko, you can’t!

    Paul: For once we agree about Maxx!

    Jim: I mean, whatever Roko has planned sure isn’t going to be exactly healthy for either man!

    Paul: It might shorten someone’s career’s!

    Jim: I believe it WILL shorten career’s!

    Roko takes a look around the arena, before looking down at the form of Maxx, slumped in agony, blood dripping off him nearly everywhere, and Roko raises an arm to ‘Search’ the crowd, before leaping from the top of the cage.

    Jim: Oh myyyyyyy goooooooooood!

    Paul: Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!

    Randy connects with a Swanton Bomb, onto Maxx who was lying on a steel barbed wire door!


    Jim: OH MY GOD!!

    Paul: It dented the f*cking door!!!

    How Paul can tell at this stage is beyond anyone, the two bodies are laying motionless, tangled in-between barbed wire. The referee makes a pin-count to end this war.


    Jim: Yes!


    Paul: No, kick-out, foot on the ropes, anything!




    Tony: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of this match up and NEEEEEEEEEEWW Teleeeeeeviisiiioooon Chaaaaaampiiioooon, Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaandy Rooooookooooooooooooooo!

    Jim: My god he did it, Randy Roko has become the first ever man in the history of TWOStars to become a Three times Television champion, what a career achievement.

    Paul: This match will go down in Randy’s best ever matches list.

    Jim: Also the most dangerous too...

    ‘Guardians of Fate’ by Ensiferum kicks in to wild cheers, as the demonic structure is lifted up to high in the rafters. Officials swarm the ring alongside EMT’s, stretchers at the ready. The Official who has held the black bag all this time walks into the ring and hands it to Roko, who is being supported by two officials so he can stand.

    The dazed pirate unties a little knot at the top, and pulls out the Television championship, for the first time in months; it has been seen once again on TWOStars television. Maxx, barely conscious, stares with hatred at Randy as EMT’s carry him backstage.

    Jim: This is a moment to remember folks, a touching end to a brutal, ruthless match.

    Confetti runs down from the rafters onto the new Television champion, who has a huge smile on his blood coated face as we cut to adverts.
  5. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000
    WEB: For three years The Executioner has wowed crowds with his terrifying strength and resilience.

    TG: He has won numerous championships, been a Battle Royale winner and held the Money in the Bank briefcase...

    WEB: If only for an evening.

    TG: Even in more recent times when he has tried to show a softer side, people have found it difficult to accept him.

    WEB: Well tonight we’d like to go back to a darker time – one of the most troubling periods in TWOstars history. We want to go back to when the Consortium was at full strength and tearing the company in two. While everyone took side, the new Triple Crown champion thought he was above it.

    TG: When Lucas Thorp and his soldier refused to fall into line, it was up to the Captain of TWOstars, Evil Gringo, to bring the belt onto the right side. After an amazing battle he succeeded, but the next week saw a rematch that stretched both men even further than the original Match of the Year nominee.

    WEB: I can’t wait...

    TWOstars – XTV5:31
    Triple Crown championship

    Evil Gringo(c) VS Edward Samson w/Lucas Thorp​

    From the major preview, we’re now in the arena and there is an odd air of stillness. There is still noise but nothing as loud as we’re used to. The fans aren’t screaming their hearts out and aren’t waving their signs madly; for the first time all night we’ve got a bit of a sad aura. Over the airwaves we can still hear the voices of the only two opinions that really matter when it comes to wrestling - Good Ol’ JR and Paul Heyman.

    Paul Heyman: Welcome back everyone watching at home to XTV – we are moments away from the big one.

    Jim Ross: The next match coming up is one that people have been talking about since the end of last week’s programme – there is no one who saw that match and isn’t asking “when will the rematch happen ?”

    PH: Well their questions and prayers have been answered because the General Manager saw something incredible last week, and knows it needs fixing.

    JR: I understand you mean the match was incredible... but what exactly needs fixing ?

    PH: No, you misunderstood, but there’s not many surprises there. What I’m talking about was the amazing luck of Gringo somehow being able to cheat his way to victory.

    JR: CHEAT ?!

    PH: ... excuse me, I was talking. And now the GM has taken it into his hands to fix this atrocious mistake.

    JR: No, I will not have this. Week after week you attack, mock and belittle the Evil Gringo and that is your God-given right to do so. BUT I will not listen to you try to detract from the incredible, hard-earned victory last week when he was able to pin Edward Samson 1, 2, 3 in the middle of the ring !

    PH: I am telling you right now, guaranteed, there is NO way that Pingu could beat Samson honestly. However somehow the match ended with the Mexican Mistake getting his arm raised... that means there must’ve been some cheating.

    JR: Or you made a calculation error in underestimating the single-greatest singles-superstar we’ve ever had in this company.

    PH: Arron Winter says hello.

    JR: Oh, I’ve already had to see him once tonight... let’s just leave him there.

    PH: Ha, you don’t like the first ever Grand Slam champion this company has ever seen ?

    JR: I have problems with the way he achieved his dream through such abuse of the powers he was given...

    PH: Yeah, because using your own advantages to get ahead in life is something we’ve never seen before.

    JR: I didn’t agree with it ten years ago, and I don’t agree with it now.

    PH: What about Pingu who uses his place as Darkstar’s favourite to get himself the title shot ?

    JR: Although I disagree with that, you then notice that he actually won the title in the match all by himself... so I’d say your point is null and void.

    PH: I don’t mind too much – the one good thing that has come from this entire mess is that Edward Samson is going to be crowned the FIRST EVER three, hear that (?), THREE time Triple Crown champion.

    JR: I wish him all the best in the luck, and I hope that he makes as fine a challenger as he does a champion.

    The lights begin flashing backwards and forwards as Nine Inch Nails starts to boom through the arena. The grizzly introduction to “The Line Begins To Blur” roar and awakens the crowd from their slumber.


    The fans start to boo, angry boos and hateful boos. They do not like the challenger in this match – they don’t like him for a number of reasons. He has hung numerous superstars under rules that many have called hypocritical and unethical, he has destroyed every man who has stood in his path, he has never so much as grunted a word of acknowledgement, he is a man who given the smallest opportunity will end Gringo’s run before it has got a chance to start... he is the man that they call the Executioner.

    The curtains are thrown outwards, dramatically parting and through them steps the short, pudgy figure of the Lord Justice. He looks somewhat rounder than usual, maybe a little bit of comfort eating going on over the dark seven days since he lost HIS belts. His eyes are cold, an angry sneer on his face as he beckons with an arm towards the back without even looking round. His little legs carry him in an angry march – his fists are balled and the arms they’re connected to are swinging. His shoulders are hunched so the neck that barely exists normally can’t be seen, almost like he’s trying to cower away from the mocking jeers that the fans are throwing at him.

    Onto the stage moves the man who knows no fear. The Monster from Massachusetts (cheesy ?) stands with his eyes staring at the ring. While his master is frustrated and obviously very angry, there isn’t any such emotion in the former champion. Lucas, it appears, is doing enough fussing for both of them. Lifting his always present noose up into the air the fans turn up the ante and really let the two know what they think.

    PH: Look at these two – between them they are the total package.

    JR: I don’t know, by the looks of it Lucas is pretty distracted.

    PH: Oh no, he’s the complete and utter opposite – he is venting his anger at the injustice of last week, allowing Edward to remain completely composed and stay focused on the battle ahead.

    A camera close up spans round the front of Edward, one of those low ones were obviously a poor cameraman has had to crouch to film but gawd dammit it looks cool. As the noose is brought down to his side some of the more keen eyed fans might notice a little something, something.

    JR: Look at that – we clearly see how serious Edward is tonight.

    PH: What’s that now ?

    JR: The noose he’s carrying is a variation on his usual – one made from a metal chain... something we last saw him bring out when he was battling Lucian Jones earlier this year.

    PH: Haha, and I remember how that ended for the Letdown of Losertown.

    JR: Well with him picking up one of the biggest victories of his career ?

    PH: ... well, yeah... in the END maybe... but there was the whipping before that if you remember ?!

    JR: What’s wrong, have I taken the wind out of your sails ?

    PH: More like I pulled them up to discover there were lots of mysterious holes making them useless.

    JR: Oh, sorry.

    PH: Don’t waste your breath.

    The monster starts his march down towards the ring, his manager well ahead of him and already starting up the steel steps.

    JR: These two fought tooth and bone last week to reach a winner – I wonder if they’ve got any other tricks for the rematch ?

    PH: Of course Edward does – he’s a talented man with a huge arsenal of offence.

    JR: Now if there’s anything that you cannot disagree on, it’s that Gringo has one of the largest move set pools to dip his toes in to.

    PH: Yeah, stealing moves from every man and his dog.

    JR: Using idols as a starting point is no bad thing – especially when you go on to improve the moves and carve a new reputation for them under your name.

    PH: Oh I agree, and that’s what makes it even worse that Gringo continues to take moves without making the ones before mean anything.

    JR: You’re stepping on dangerous territory Paul-E, I’m just warning you.

    PH: I’m not worried about offending these fans...

    JR: What about suffering a hard right leg from the Sensation ?

    PH: I think that the champ has got his hands a little full tonight.

    Edward reaches the bottom of the ramp as he moves towards the steel steps. As he moves up them, the metal noose is dropped to the floor. The ropes aren’t held open for the monster, no Lucas has been far too busy pacing backwards and forwards. The pink-faced manager is staring directly at the stage, almost as if he’s hoping that pure willpower will cause it to burst into flames... but unfortunately he’s just ending up more and more wound up.

    Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is for the TWOstars Triple Crown chaaaaaaaampionship. Introducing first, the challenger; hailing from Salem, Massachusetts and weighing in at 254lbs, he is accompanied to the ring by “The Lord Justice” Lucas Thorp... “The Executioner” Edwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaard Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamson.

    The monster is standing at the far side of the ring, straight backed and still with his eyes looking towards the TWOtron where his own video disappears and the music dies down. The lights don’t bother to come up as they all just go off, leaving everything in complete darkness.

    The last thing that we see is the Lord Justice finally stopping with his stepping backwards and forwards, and standing next to his monster.

    There are cheers and loud screams that scatter around the arena as silence fills up the air otherwise.

    JR: We have the challenger... now it’s just time to get the General of the TWOstars army out here.

    PH: I won’t be surprised if he doesn’t even bother to turn up.

    JR: That sounds just like the Mexicutioner now you mention it.

    PH: Well where is he ?

    The silence continues and the cheers start to wear thin, the people in the stands want to save their energy for when they DEFINITELY know he’s coming... others are becoming a little bit suspicious that they’ve been stitched up by some kind of “Russo-esque Twist”.

    Finally... finally... FINALLY... F I N A L L Y... the first, the greatest, the defining riff of metal music thunders out.


    The TWOtron bursts into life and the fans start letting out cheers that would burst a sensitive man’s ear drums. As the riff continues, continuing to slowly tease the entrance of the champion, the fans are enjoying the teasing. Every man, woman, child and cat in the building join in with the infamous first words of the song...


    The drums kick in and the fans immediately break down into a very loud and supportive chant.

    Gring-Goh Gring-Goh Gring-Goh Gring-Goh

    JR: Listen to this reception ? If there has ever been a true champion of the people, I can’t think of any man better than The Evil Gringo...

    PH: This is just a case of the fans not knowing what they want...

    JR: I can barely hear myself talk over these people and the music... I have to politely disagree with you.

    PH: Gagh, until they all shut up I’m just going to sit here...

    JR: Good, that means you won’t ruin it.

    PH: ...

    JR: This is the first time we’ve seen the new champion – the first time he’s stepped out in front of the crowds live, the first match he’s wrestled and the first defence he’s taken part in...

    Gring-Goh Gring-Goh Gring-Goh Gring-Goh

    We can hear Chimel coughing loudly into his microphone, hidden somewhere in the darkness.


    The chant stops almost right round the arena as the cheers take over instead, loud applause from every fan – hands are clapping, throats are roaring and feet are stomping – as the lights finally come on to reveal the man on whose back this company was built.

    Gringo is standing at the bottom of the ramp with his head bowed forward, his arms up in the air with a belt in either hand. They are hanging proudly as the third, the World (a belt the Sensation is certainly more familiar with), sits around his waist. With his usual gold and red sleeveless hoodie covering his body, the fans seem to have run out of energy a bit.

    Bringing his face up, a huge smile on his face (let’s be honest you couldn’t really hide how proud you are for getting a reception like THAT) he stares into the ring and at... Lucas...

    JR: OH MA’ GAWD !

    The Sensation’s eyes widen as looks at an empty ring except for a very happy looking Lucas.

    The champs arms drop, but he doesn’t get a chance for anything else as a log-like arm comes crashing down into his back.

    PH: WHAT A MOVE ! !

    The referee looks as confused as the thousands in attendance. As soon as the lights came on the fans dropped down not because they were tired, not because they didn’t think Gringo deserved more cheers but because standing right behind their new champion was a 6’4” monster who moved like a cat in the darkness !

    JR: The Executioner has just attacked the Triple Crown champion from behind.

    PH: If Gringo wants to waste time posing and playing to the crowd then that’s his choice, however Edward has some belts to win back.

    The Sensation has fallen forward from the strike, dropping the two belts but grabbing the apron to stop his jaw getting a nasty crack. A little dazed and still coming to terms with what the hell is going on he feels himself being grabbed by the head as the music dies down quickly in the background of the bigger picture.

    JR: I... I can’t believe it...

    PH: Lucas Thorp studies his opponents and knows where their weaknesses are.

    JR: I barely call entering with the lights out a WEAKNESS.

    PH: It is if you know how to exploit it.

    The referee has charged towards the left hand side of the ring and is demanding that the challenger brings his opponent into the ring.

    JR: I somehow think the warnings are falling on deaf ears.

    PH: Is that because it’s Edward or because he’s attacked Gringo before the bell has been rung...

    JR: I promise you it’s a bit of A and a bit of B.

    The Sensation is pulled round and his wrist is grabbed tightly. Looking just lost at the moment he can do nothing except like the momentum carry him as he’s whipped towards the bottom left corner – where the thick crowd barrier meets. Turning at the last moment he doesn’t do himself many favours and lets out a loud groan of agony.

    The Executioner thunders towards him in a quick march - arms slightly outstretched like something from a Frankenstein film - before grabbing the champ round the back of the neck. Pulling him out of the ringside turnbuckle (if you will), the monster stands beside his opponent and runs towards the metal ring post of the ring’s turnbuckle (haha). Even lifting up his arms the Sensation isn’t able to stop his face from meeting the cold steel and falls to the side, his knees and then to the ground in one painful movement.

    PH: Oh boy, now this is the way the match should have gone last week...

    Rolling onto his front, Gringo starts to push himself up. Although his jaw is hurting pretty badly he realises that he can’t let his opponent take control. The World title belt falling to the ground from around his waist is the least of his worries let me tell you.

    JR: Most men would call it a night at that kind of blow – but Gringo is shaking it off and looking for victory.

    PH: Well if he can start the match then that would be something...

    He’s on one foot but isn’t quick enough. The monster takes a hold of the back of his head and under an arm before yanking the champ to a vertical base. Turning his opponent round so that they’re face to face, Edward hoists him up into the air and moves towards the crowd barrier. The camera angle catches some fantastic reactions from horrified fans as the Mexicutioner is dropped into the barrier.

    JR: I’m not quite sure but the Sensation either landed face-first or chest-first... either way it’s bad news for the champ.

    With his hands gripping the top of the barrier, the Gringo’s head hangs as he breaths deeply. Trying to push himself up from his knees isn’t going too well but it suddenly becomes much easier when the Executioner starts to assist him.

    PH: What a beautiful start to this match – this is going to be the moment that defines Gringo’s reign as a champion... it is the wake-up call that tells everybody he isn’t the man he once was.

    Gringo is leaning against the crowd barrier and is facing towards the ring. He watches as Edward moves backwards a few steps and clasps his hands together.

    JR: We know what that means – going for a Polish Hammmeee....

    Swinging the mighty fist Gringo ducks down underneath and continues to turn. Both men continue to turn so they end up face to face again, although in the other’s place. As Edward straightens, the champion spins on the spot and brings his left leg up and into the face of the Masked Hunter.

    The hard smack echoes as cheers rise up all around; and Edward falls backwards, right over the barrier and into the front row. The fans who are affected by this let out startled cries – one particular woman can be seen desperately trying to rid the large mass from her lap without actually touching his sweating body.

    PH: Oh cripes...

    JR: Gringo has turned things around !

    PH: That was one hell of a shot – and he’s using his opponent to assault the fans.

    JR: I think that the Sensation just swung and hoped for the best.

    PH: Well I bet that this isn’t what those people who paid their money had in mind when they were told they’d be “close to the action”.

    Grasping the barrier, the Sensation shakes his head as he stands up under his own weight. Waving towards the fans who are surrounding Edward’s downed body, he starts shouting at them...

    JR: What is going on just now ?

    The people catch on and start to back away, creating space around the body of the monster and a few members are actually kind enough to pull their fold-up metal chairs with them.

    PH: No, I don’t like the looks of this...

    The Evil Gringo turns towards the ring and climbs up onto the apron, ducking under the middle rope and staring towards the empty space beyond the barrier...

    Although a small point, Lucas has suddenly disappeared out of the ring as the champion started in, he isn’t going to suffer as his plan starts to unravel.

    We can see Edward starting to get to his feet, in the background a few security men have battled through and are continuing to move chairs while trying to keep the fans far away from the action.

    JR: No... Gringo don’t do this... don’t do this...

    PH: He’s got a title to defend, this isn’t going to make things ANY easier.

    The Mad Mexican licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair, breathing deeply he charges towards the far ropes.

    Edward is standing up, on his feet and looks towards the ring to see Gringo...

    In a beautiful piece of agility Gringo, on the rebound, grabs the top rope and drags himself up onto it before jumping with all his damn might.

    Edward watches upwards, being able to do nothing as his opponent flies towards him like some kind of accented meteor. The reaction of the fans standing around the men are incredibly as they jump, scream and let out roars of disbelief. Gringo lands with what can best be described as a Cross Body Block to the challenger and drops him to the ground with a very hard thud.


    PH: That was absolute madness... just crazy, and needless.

    JR: We were talking about pulling out a few tricks – well that was certainly something special.

    The official in the ring can’t believe what’s going on. He looks really rather stressed, and on the outside Lucas can be seen gripping the ring with both hands and looking mighty unhappy.

    Gringo has rolled off of Edward and is lying, breathing deeply. Edward hasn’t moved since the collision. The security men have moved in towards the two men to check on them and make sure that the fall didn’t do either one too much damage. This has unfortunately caused the fans to start piling in and around, so now we’ve got the black-shirted arena staff fighting off the general public...

    PH: I can’t believe it – if this thing never gets started now.

    JR: The referee can’t even make a 10-count-out...

    The cameraman is refusing to step over the barrier and so is filming from the arena floor, with both champion and challenger finally fully in view again (good job security man) the general cheering from the initial thrill of the move has died down.

    PH: Neither one of these guys have moved since Gringo tried to kill himself.

    JR: That’s what we want in a champion though, a man who will do anything in the name of his belt.

    PH: But surely that only makes sense if he’s actually defending it...

    JR: Being attacked from behind – at the moment Gringo is defending something only just more precious to him than gold... his pride !

    PH: Ha, that old nutshell...

    As JR is about to make some sort of comeback he is very quickly interrupted.

    JR: We... EDWARD HAS SAT UP ! !

    The Hooded Hunter, in a fashion much like the Deadman (not JUST Deadman... THE Deadman), pulls himself into a seated position. Still clearly breathing deeply, the monster lifts his head and stares out towards the unattractive general public before starting up to his feet.

    PH: Samson was the one attacked – he was the one that was crushed under the weight of his flying opponent and yet... and yet look who is rising first !

    Gringo has rolled onto his side, holding his stomach and looking just a little bit uncomfortable generally. The monster meanwhile has brought a silence to the immediate fans surrounding the two fighters (although boos can still be heard from the general public). Samson staggers slightly before catching himself. He turns and looks down towards the obviously hurt Gringo.

    JR: The Triple Crown champion took a huge risk and by the looks of it, the move might’ve taken more out of him than his opponent.

    PH: That is because Edward Samson is not just a man – he is “The Executioner”.

    Bending down, the Dead-Eyed Killer takes the champion by the head and starts to pull him up to his feet.

    Taking Gringo into a loose front face lock, there is a nasty glint in the eye of the Executioner as he leans on his opponent for a short moment... Suddenly the Sensation slaps the side of his opponent, another weak-looking punch to the kidney area.

    JR: Gringo is fighting BACK !

    PH: Oh well done, let’s see how far it gets him...

    This time he brings the arm close to his body and throws a very short elbow to the midsection of Edward – the sharp point seems to have been enough though because the face lock is released and all arms drop to respective sides.

    The Evil One takes this break as a chance to take a few steps backwards, and finds himself moving into the guardrail. Holding it with one hand he watches as Edward straightens and runs towards him.

    JR: Now Gringo was able to get out of harm’s way, but can he stay out of it ?!

    The Executioner’s hands are grasped and he swings them hard – this time he connects with the Polish Hammer and sends the Sensation toppling over the guard rail and towards the arena floor.

    He crumples over with a rather dull thud. Edward pauses, staring over the wall between the two of them with his hands on it and seems to be taking a small breather.

    PH: No luck Gringo – that was hard and nasty, he nearly fell on his head on the way over.

    JR: It was certainly a stiff strike, but we don’t expect anything less from these two.

    PH: And, as I keep mentioning, the actual match has yet to get started...

    The topple over doesn’t seem to have done too much to Gringo as he’s crawled over to the ring and is reaching up to the apron, gripping on with both hands and trying to pull himself up. Meanwhile Edward has climbed over back to the arena floor (letting the audience step back into their ticket-seats) and is stalking the Mexicutioner.

    Suddenly we hear an angry voice off screen and the camera spins round to see an angry looking Lord Justice hiding round the nearest corner.

    JR: What the hell does he want ?

    Edward doesn’t seem to notice as the angry ”Edward... EDWARD!” is hissed... but when the name is shouted loudly the monster finally turns round.

    Lucas holds out one of his arms – and from it hangs the dangerous metal noose...

    PH: Oh yes – things are about to get pretty tasty !

    JR: No... Thorp is... he can’t be...

    PH: You want to get rid of the competition – well this is certainly one way to do it.

    JR: With Deadman body bagging people on one side and Edward hanging folk on the other, this is quickly becoming a company full of serial killers.

    PH: Eddie is a little different from the D-man, cause he only picks on those who deserve it.


    PH: By taking the title he interfered in the plan in a very severe way... put a spanner in the works that could’ve brought the whole system crumbling down under a lesser man.

    Staring at his master, Edward seems slightly confused.

    The two fierce words are spat from the curled lips of the Lord Justice and the fans boo as they realise what he said:

    ”HANG HIM!”

    JR: Lucas wants Edward to hang Gringo... what would happen to the belts ?

    PH: If Gringo can’t defend then they’ll win by default.

    JR: The belts can’t change hands like that...

    PH: I’m sure Lucas has a plan.

    The monster starts moving slowly towards the Lord Justice, and reaches out an arm.

    JR: Look at Thorp – continuing to hide, making his soldier do all his dirty work... it’s absolutely disgusting...

    Lucas’ eyes are full of fire as he stares up into the uncaring mask of his creation. The much bigger hand grasps the chain tightly and Thorp let’s go...

    He points to behind his monster as a small smile appears on his face... the first look of happiness we’ve seen all evening from him. As Edward turns round the smile disappears and his eyes widen into absolute horror.

    PH: Oh dear, that wasn’t a part of the plan...

    Having left Gringo with his hands on the apron, the Sensation continued to pull and push and drag and huff and puff... with a lot of effort and his opponent not paying attention he was able to roll under the bottom rope and into the ring.

    Edward looks at his opponent who is lying quite still, with the referee checking him, and starts to move.

    JR: Gringo has got into the ring – he’s saved himself for the time being.

    PH: What do you think that referee is really going to do to stop Edward ?

    JR: I’ll let him worry about that.

    The monster climbs onto the apron, the noose still tightly in his grip.

    PH: The Sensation is still on the ground, it looks like he used up the rest of his energy.

    JR: ... the official can’t let this happen in front of all these fans...

    Standing up, the referee blocks Edward’s way into the ring, pointing towards the noose angrily and shaking his head. The monster ignores this and starts under the top rope... looking over towards Lucas the referee can be heard shouting ”DISQUALIFIED” and all of a sudden the fat manager looks even more worried.

    PH: Oh, wow, now that’s ridiculous...

    JR: The referee has brought up a damn good point – Edward steps into the ring and the match officially begins...

    PH: And look at the blubber wobble !

    Lucas dashes from his rabbit hole and grabs a tight hold of the hanging chain, pulling at it hard... the powerful grasp of Edward causes him only to turn around to see what’s causing the annoyance.

    We can hear Thorp shouting at his soldier to let go... and the monster does, although damn confused by the entire situation. He turns to the referee and the striped shirted official moves backwards and to the side.

    The fans start cheering loudly as Edward starts into the ring, over the moon that things are finally going to start properly. Lucas has the chain in both hands and is staring at it before the referee with daggers...

    Edward stands straight and we hear the three rings for the bell.


    JR: I would have thought the official would have at least let Gringo get back to his feet...

    PH: That would be like ignoring a whole chapter of this match.

    JR: Yeah, the illegal part...

    PH: The epilogue is still an important part of the story.

    JR: So is the prologue...

    PH: What now ?

    Edward moves straight for Gringo, suddenly a burst of energy. Bending down he grabs the champ’s head and starts pulling him up, turning the body towards him as he goes. As Gringo ends up on both feet and in a bent over position the Sensation suddenly throws himself forward into a very small roll and the back of his right leg comes crashing hard into the covered nose of Samson. The monster staggers backwards, into the ropes and groans loudly as the Mexican starts to unpack himself from where he fell.

    The fans cheer the very sudden strike and only get louder as Gringo reaches one knee and stares towards his opponent.

    JR: OUT OF NOWHERE – I couldn’t have predicted that if I had tried... what an incredibly move.

    PH: He fell and it was just good fortune his leg caught Edward.

    JR: With that amount of force ? And falling into a forward roll ?

    PH: It was incredibly good fortune – just like last week...

    JR: Boy that Gringo and good luck, some would say he has a talent for it...

    PH: Maybe, maybe.

    The monster stops holding his mask (presumably where his nose once was) and starts to move towards his opponent. Gringo is ready though and pushes just slightly into the air before bringing his legs out in front and connects with a low dropkick to the shin, but it’s enough to drop Sammy down to one knee.

    Thumping the mat once as he starts his climb up to his feet, Gringo heads towards the far ropes at quite the belt.

    JR: He’s got Samson down and in a precarious position – this is the perfect opportunity to really take control of this match...

    On his return he steps up onto the raised knee and brings his other leg up towards the side of the head. Unfortunately it never connects. As Gringo jumped off Edward’s knee, an arm was lifted to block the swinging strike. However before Robert can fall away, the arm comes down and clamps the leg, causing Gringo to fall onto his back.

    PH: Oh dear – I think the Wetback is in trouble.

    As Samson pushes up to both feet, he takes a hold of the other leg of Gringo and starts to straighten up.

    JR: Oh no... the submission hold... that damn Cloverleaf that nobody has ever overcome...

    PH: We want to talk about secret weapons ? Well here comes Samson’s A-Bomb.

    Edward tries to slip a foot behind the other knee of Gringo, but the feisty foreigner is having none of it, his legs shaking desperately and finally one foot comes free. Pulling it in close, Gringo fires out quickly and is able to hit Samson in the stomach.

    When the big man bends down, winded, Gringo pulls back and fires another shot straight into the faceless face of the Executioner.


    Samson falls backwards, holding his face with both hands as Gringo starts up to his feet and looks just damned p*ssed off.

    PH: That was sickening... that was a full kick from the Pingu to the face... that should be damn illegal.

    He grabs Samson and drags him onto his back before lying on the body and going for a pin.

    The referee is right there to make the pin count and the fans shout out along with it.



    JR: Not quite, not quite.

    PH: What do you mean “not quite” ? It was nowhere near a three count.

    Edward pushes a shoulder into the air to break the pin attempt. The fans let out some boos but nothing major – most are relieved that it isn’t the end of the match quite yet. Gringo climbs to his feet and grabs a hold of Edward, who has already started moving by himself.

    JR: Samson wants to use that power of his to shift things back into his favour.

    PH: Yeah, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

    Straightening the challenger, the Sensation gives him a hard shove which forces the monster to stumble backwards into the ropes and bounce back towards the champ. On this slow and slightly uneasy return, a lightening fast hand is thrown into the side of the monster’s face.

    JR: Hard slap from Gringo, and that looked like it really hurt !

    Another slap, this time with the other hand and Gringo’s face is one of pure intensity. He delivers a third slap and the noise of the hand connecting with the leather creates a nasty crack that makes many in the audience wince at.

    PH: Come on referee, don’t let this continue !

    JR: There’s nothing against taking it to your opponent.

    A fourth slap and the fans erupt into huge cheers as Gringo grabs round a shoulder of his opponent and between the legs with his other hand before lifting his all his might and dropping backwards.

    PH: How did he do that ?!

    JR: Four nasty shots from the Sensation followed up by a picture-perfect Exploder Suplex.

    As Gringo starts up to his feet, he looks out towards the thousands in attendance who have started up a chant in support of the Triple Crown champ.

    Gring-Goh Gring-Goh Gring-Goh

    PH: Well okay he’s got Sammy down – but now it’s all about being able to put him away...

    JR: Gringo was able to do it last week, I’m sure tonight isn’t going to be any different.

    PH: He had to pull out the Black Hole Press – how many of those do you think he can unleash in a week ?

    JR: You might have a point, but I still have faith he’ll find a way.

    Standing over his fallen opponent, the Mexicutioner then decides to move towards the ropes and climbs through them, pointing up towards the sky as he finds his footing on the apron.

    PH: Is this a good idea ?

    JR: Last week when he flew he walked away the champion.

    PH: That was after Edward had taken much more of a beating…

    JR: The Mexican From Manchester has been in more main events than I’ve had barbeque sauce covered dinners…

    PH: Now don’t go straight-out lying.

    JR: … excuse me… the Gringo KNOWS how to read his opponent’s state of wellbeing.

    PH: He better hope you’re right.

    Holding the top rope with both hands Gringo stomps the apron hard. The fans cheer back. Giving it a few moments of silence the Sensation stomps hard again.

    JR: He’s trying to tease Edward up – encouraging the fans to join in.

    A third stomp, this one with a shorter gap.

    PH: Tuning up the band, maybe ?

    JR: On the ring apron… ?

    The stomps continue and finally Edward starts to stir, he starts to climb up to his feet and the stomps are getting quicker. They’re almost running into each other and the fans are clapping along, not in any sort of specific time.

    PH: Edward – turn around… look the right way.

    In a fashion that only happens in wrestling, Samson slowly stumbles round so that he’s facing towards his opponent. The champion stops his foot tapping and jumps up to the top rope. Both feet pushing off hard, he flies towards his opponent with a forearm strike.

    JR: The M.A.A connects !

    PH: Credit to Pingu he’s doing a good job of staying on top of things. Although maybe LETTING Edward get up to his feet wasn’t the greatest of ideas.

    JR: It worked out okay; I told you Gringo can judge his opponents.

    PH: Haha, so can Lucas…

    JR: Oh very funny.

    With both men in the middle of the ring, Gringo moves over and grabs a leg to start another pin.


    PH: Gringo is really trying to finish this off as soon as possible.


    Lucas is on the outside and looking very unimpressed by everything – the chain noose still hangs in one hand…


    This time there are some more groans from the crowd as Edward makes the break out.

    JR: Robert isn’t stupid – he knows that he is in the ring with a very dangerous opponent.

    PH: And unfortunately still is in the ring with him.

    Gringo doesn’t seem to be too bothered – he knew he was pushing his luck a bit, but God does love a try-er. With a stern look on his face he begins pulling up Edward, this time so the monster’s back is towards him.

    JR: Oh this set-up can only mean one of three things when it comes to the Sensation…

    PH: I disagree.

    JR: Of course you do – but it doesn’t matter… do you want to take a bet which Gringo-Plex we’re about to see ?

    Sliding his arm between the legs of Edward, Gringo is able to catch one of his wrists with great ease setting up the pumphandle (ha).

    As he goes to hook the other one in a half-nelson… well the arm swings back and connects with the side of the Sensation’s head.

    PH: Oh, by the looks of it I’m going to settle with “none of the above” thank you.

    Not to be deterred by the blow, Gringo looks for it again and gets another crack to the side of the head.

    JR: Gringo hasn’t let go of the wrist though…

    Shaking his head slightly, the Mexican reaches out quickly and somehow is able hook that blasted arm.

    The fans let out cheers as Gringo stands ready to deliver one of his most famous trademark moves.

    PH: Oh… no luck for the Sensationalist.

    With his always slightly unnerving strength, the Executioner powers out of the half nelson before bringing the elbow round and into the head of Gringo once more. This shot, which our champ was unprepared for, is enough to drop him to one knee and release the grip between the legs.

    Edward turns around and brings his massive forearm down into the neck of Gringo. With a cry of pain, he then feels himself getting pulled up and put into a front face lock. Taking one of Evil’s arms and placing it over his neck, Edward picks up the champ and falls backwards.

    JR: A suplex from the challenger and this could be the perfect opportunity for Edward to turn this around.

    PH: Did you see the way he broke out of that hold ? The way that he lifted the Pingu without any problems… he truly is Samson by name, and Samson by nature.

    Climbing up to his feet, Edward delivers a stomp to Gringo.

    The bottom of the foot connects with his chest and causes the smaller man to let out a short groan. Another stomp follows and these aren’t Austin style strikes – quick and looking to chip away, rather than specifically be the finishing blow – no, these are slow and calculated with a lot of energy and effort put behind them. A third stomp and this time the foot sits on the chest of Gringo as the other comes off the ring mat.

    JR: The monster is starting to dissect his opponent.

    PH: Look at him just stepping onto and over the champion – squashing him like a damned bug.

    JR: That is going to cause some serious breathing problems; if you remember last week it was the body that Edward targeted then as well.

    Turning round, having forced all the air out of his opponent, Edward looks at the coughing Gringo. The champion is curled up on his side and holding his chest with a look of pain on his face. A large hand yanks at his shoulder to pull him on to his back before disappearing.

    PH: Edward making sure that Gringo is in the perfect position for whatever he’s got in mind…

    JR: He’s heading towards the ropes at quite a speed.

    Charging back, putting all of his cardio to the test, the Executioner jumps into the air and comes down with his tree-trunk like leg landing across the neck and chest of the Evil Gringo.

    PH: And now Samson is going to go for a pin of his own.

    JR: Are we about to see the Executioner retain the Triple Crown belts ?


    Lucas doesn’t look like he’s been won over, sceptical to how successful this pin is going to be.


    Before the referee can take his hand away from the mat after the second tap, Gringo throws an arm up into the air to force a break out. Edward climbs up to his feet and brings his opponent up with him.

    The fans are cheering - quite, quite sure that something good is just moments away from happening.

    Edward picks the Sensation up in a scoop and turns towards the middle of the ring. He takes a few moments just holding up the champion in this position, showing off his strength and his control in the situation.

    PH: We’re not quite there yet... but that doesn’t mean Edward is about to let up.

    JR: Look at the strength of Samson – and the worst thing is that he’s just warming up.

    With a heavy heave, the Masked Warrior tosses Gringo to the ground back first – letting the champion’s back smack hard into the mat. He steps up to the laid out body and holds out an arm. Bending it at the elbow he then dives down and connects with, well, an elbow drop.

    PH: Edward taking a good approach – he’s keeping Gringo on the ground and delivering heavy strikes... using his weight advantage to add some pressure to the champion.

    JR: The one thing he has to do though is keep The Sensation down, if the General gets to his feet then he’s going to be mighty mad.

    PH: Pah, Edward can easily finish off his opponent keeping them on the ground.

    The Executioner doesn’t bother with a pin just now, instead getting to his feet. The monster without emotion delivers a stomp to the Sensation before looking out of the ring towards his master. The referee takes this brief moment to bend down and check on the champion.

    Lucas stares into the ring and points towards the still downed body of Gringo. The Executioner doesn’t react for a brief moment – almost unimpressed by the lax instructions he’s been offered. But after that nothingness he leaves his master and turns his attention to his opponent.

    JR: It looks like Lucas doesn’t care what gets done – as long as this ends with Edward as the new champion.

    PH: And that’s a pretty good attitude to take – as long as you get to your destination, why worry about the path you walk ?!

    JR: That’s ridiculous.

    Gringo is on his feet and is turned around so he’s facing the outside of the ring. Edward digs his shoulders into the back of the Sensation and picks him up easily into a torture rack position.

    PH: We saw Edward using this move against Eagles a few weeks ago, using it to wear down his back to great effect.

    Yanking hard on both the legs and round the neck, the Evil Gringo lets out a loud scream as he feels his vertebrates being torn apart from each other. In a desperate attempt he brings a free elbow down into the shoulder of the monster. As Edward stops the pressure the legs of the champ start to wriggle... desperately trying to free themselves from the grip... with the fans starting to cheer and leg strength that we would only find in a puro-star like the Sensation he falls down the back of the challenger.

    JR: Evil Gringo is free – he has escaped and fingers crossed he’s got away without too much damage.

    PH: Well that’s the first step but can he take it anywhere from here ?

    Edward seems to stumble round and Gringo limps round quickly on the spot. As the two come face to face, Edward seems to attempt some kind of grapple for the head. Unfortunately Robert ducks underneath the arms and ends up behind Tatty-sack.

    JR: He’s taken one of the arms into a hammerlock... Gringo acting on instinct just now.

    Not sparing a moment and praying that Edward‘s bearings are completely lost, Gringo grabs under the other arm and hooks it into a half nelson.

    With a cry of anger, Gringo pops his hips backwards and takes the Executioner over and onto his head with the fantastic suplex.

    PH: Oh my God – that was sick !

    JR: Edward landed very badly right there – but the Gringo-Plex MKII wasn’t exactly designed to be a picnic.

    Having landed hard and folded over onto his front, Edward isn’t moving at all. Meanwhile the man who is now in total control climbs to one knee and stares at the still body – wiping his face with a sweaty hand there’s a look of success on the champ’s face.

    The Sensation pushes up to the vertical base and moves towards the challenger. He grabs the monster by the mask and starts to drag him up.

    PH: Not going for a pin ?

    JR: He could go for a pin and risk him breaking out, or Gringo could use these crucial moments while Edward is dazed to guarantee a three count.

    As Edward finds his balance the champion, instead of turning the opponent round, moves behind the masked man and slides a hand between his legs and grabs a hold of a hanging wrist.

    PH: Oh no... what is Pingu going for ?

    JR: By the looks of it he is hoping to score with another Gringo-plex.

    PH: We saw it fail earlier... and I hope we’re going to see it again...

    JR: I don’t know, I imagine that Edward is still in la-la-land after that fall.

    Samson is leaning forward slightly and gets a forearm to the back from the Sensation which causes him to curl his back in pain. A low grunt can be heard escaping from behind the leather as a second smack connects. The monster sort of waves his free arm as if to try and scare away the annoying bug – unfortunately that allows Gringo to reach forward and hook it easily into a half nelson.

    PH: Oh for goodness sake – he practically LET Gringo do that.

    Pulling with all his might, Gringo forces the monster into a vertical position... the big creature can be seen waving his nelson-trapped arm as if trying to muster the strength to break the hold.

    The Mexicutioner however decides not to waste any time and drops backwards, powering his opponent over and dropping him on his head.

    JR: Now the Gringo-plex MKI – barely two minutes after the second... that has to be it.

    Edward looks to land slightly better in this one than in the last, although that simply means he didn’t nearly die. I can promise you he’s still hurting. The monster lies still, an arm shoots into the air before collapsing down to the mat as the last of Edward’s energy escapes.

    Gringo on the other hand sits up and stares upwards towards the roof. He is holding his arms out in front of him, shaking them with his fists clamped tightly. He lets out a furious roar as he starts to climb to his feet, the adrenaline is pumping and the Mad Mexican is in full swing.

    PH: Oh dear; did you know it was this kind of second wind that actually helped Gringo to swim into the USA ?

    JR: Well that’s why they call him the Iron Man !

    PH: I prefer the name of “Wetback Willy”.

    JR: Where does Willy come from ?

    PH: Well his name is Robert... and Bobby is a shortened version of that, and then in Scotland it’s not unheard of to use Willy as a nickname to that...

    JR: We’re not in Scotland...

    PH: Thank goodness for that.

    JR: No, that’s not my poi... you’re not serious are you ?

    PH: Who has Scottish family here ?

    JR: I thought all of yours lived in one huge snake-pit.

    PH: My family are lawyers I’ll have you know.

    JR: Exactly...

    The Ageless Immigrant grabs Edward by the head and under an arm and drags the body away from the ropes. He doesn’t bother with reaching the middle of the ring, just simply out of reach from the ropes.

    Falling to his knees he grabs both legs and the referee is straight there for the count. The fans are screaming the count with each smack and the Sensation can be seen shouting it as well.


    PH: Two Gringo-plexes... is this where we see an end to Edward ?

    Lucas can be seen on the outside grabbing the bottom rope, the noose clasped between the hand and the rope...


    The Sensation’s face is slightly red from the emotion – the blood has run to his face and if matching his tights quite perfectly.

    JR: Gringo has defeated Samson – he has overcome the monster...


    PH: OH REALLY ?!!?

    Both legs kick hard and Gringo almost rolls off the monster. He is up to his knees and looking at the referee with wide eyes. The red face that was there moments ago disappears as the colour runs from his face.


    PH: Gringo just delivered two of his most deadly moves and the man that is more machine than human refused to stay down.

    The referee holds up two fingers to the champion, looking almost fearful of what might happen to him.

    However Gringo is not a man to take his anger out on the innocent. While still on his knees he grabs a hold of the mask and starts to pull Edward up.

    JR: Clearly Gringo had high hopes for that right there, and I’m sorry that it didn’t work out quite as well as he was hoping.

    PH: Credit given it was a good try, but now we know that Edward still has something in the tank and is just biding his time...

    Grabbing the wrist of the monster, Gringo throws him towards the nearest turnbuckle. Samson crashes into it back first and is still recovering from those back pains when he receives a big forearm to the face.

    JR: Just running and jumping at his opponent, the Triple Crown champion connects with a huge strike to the head...

    Landing on his feet - more or less bouncing off his opponent from the impact - Gringo steps towards the middle of the ring and turns to attack again.

    The fans let out loud boos as the Sensation’s body hits the mat with a thud.

    PH: And the end. Is. Nigh.

    JR: A huge boot from Edward right there – he just saw the smallest opportunity and took it with both hands.

    PH: We’ve watched Gringo maybe break Sammie’s nose – well the big man likes his revenge.

    Eddie grabs the champion and starts dragging him up, taking his time with the body just to try and spare a few fleeting quiets moments to catch a breather. With the champ on both his feet, Edward whips him towards the corner he had just escaped from. With a soft clatter, Gringo runs chest-first into it and seems to be taking a small nap in it by leaning his head on the top pad.

    JR: Oh Gawd – Gringo wants to get out of there quickly... he can’t see what’s coming.

    PH: He must have an idea, even if it’s just a rough one.

    Running at The Evil One, Edward lifts his arms up and simply crushes his opponent between a turnbuckle post and a hard place.

    JR: That was devastating...

    PH: Nothing fancy about it – plain old throwing your weight about.

    The Executioner remains standing over Gringo, not allowing him to fall down... the monster reaches down and grabs the waistband of his tights.

    JR: What is going on...

    PH: If we’re about to see a full moon I’m not okay with this – you can’t embarrass the champ into defeat...

    Stepping backwards quickly, Edward drags Gringo out with a jerk. The Sensation has very little time to react as the other arm hits him over the back of the head hard and causes the world to go black for a second.

    JR: Oh Gawd – the Incapacitator... that Northern Lariat.

    PH: As I said, nothing fancy here... just good old fashioned, effective strikes.

    Edward rolls the Sensation onto his back and consequentially very close to the ropes. He drops down to the mat and makes sure that both the far arm and leg are inside the boundaries of the ring before going for a pin – placing an elbow into the face of the Sensation.

    The referee plonks himself down, very much stuck in the corner to make sure he can see any sort of shoulder movement.

    JR: And we might be about to see a new champion.

    PH: A very nice pin attempt right now, a good position.


    JR: Not so good really, Gringo’s got a foot on the rope !

    With a foot now sitting on the bottom rope, the fans let out huge cheers of support.

    However the referee doesn’t seem to notice from his bad position, and suddenly it doesn’t matter anymore because a certain Worm solves the problem.


    PH: Brilliant placing Lucas !

    JR: He just shoved the leg OFF of the rope – that’s illegal !

    PH: Only if you get caught.


    As the referee brings his hand down for the third time the fans can see a very sudden struggle and an arm sliding out – not only up into the air for a shoulder break but grabbing the middle rope as well...

    JR: That was incredibly lucky.

    PH: Yeah, what were the chances of the referee missing that leg...

    JR: I meant for Gringo.

    PH: Pah, whatever.

    Lucas is staring furiously at the fingers that are wrapped round the middle rope, his piggy eyes starting to get really annoyed at this man and his rather resilient ways.

    JR: Gawd dammit it that was incredible – Gringo had his foot on the rope but it was shoved off by that damn Lucas. In less than a second the Sensation was able to realise and make a second escape attempt...

    Gring-Goh Gring-Goh Gring-Goh

    The fans are over the moon about the escape, obviously the initial thoughts when the interference occurred weren’t happy so this is a fantastic shift of events.

    Gringo hasn’t let go of the rope, maybe he sees it as some kind of symbol that he won’t quite... maybe he doesn’t have the energy to release it... maybe he’s hoping to use it to clamber to his feet.

    Well whatever the case a dangerous looking Samson is up to his feet and grabs the top rope with both hands before bringing his boot down onto the fingertips to force the release.

    PH: Look at the referee forcing Samson back – what reason does he have for that ?

    JR: If a competitor has got the ropes then their opponent has to give them space...

    PH: I don’t think that Gringo knew what was going on.

    JR: Nevertheless it still counts.

    Edward is silently looking at the official who is full of much more flare, waving arms and poking the chest of the former champ. Lucas of course isn’t going to stand for this kind of abuse so starts to shout into the ring, demanding that this pantomime stop !

    The monster seems to grow tired of listening as he decides to simply walk round the referee, brushing him aside slightly and grabbing the top rope again. This time the deadly boot is rested across the throat of the champion and pressure applied.

    PH: Now even I’ll admit that’s a tiny bit questionable...

    JR: Really ? You think a direct and obvious choke is mildly suspicious ?

    PH: I’m just saying, y’know, if you’re going to cheat at least put some thought into it.

    JR: I don’t think that Edward is the sneaking about kind of guy.

    PH: Good point.

    Leaning into the throat, trying to drop as much weight into the one leg as possible, Edward is really trying to force the life out of the champion. Gringo’s hands have come up and are wrapped round the boot as they try to force it away... and the referee is screaming madly, trying to stop this.

    Finally after falling on deaf ears the ref tries what all good mothers do.


    JR: Finally the five-count has been intitiated.


    Lucas can be heard shouting various things, although I’m not sure what I’m sorry to say (bad camera positioning).


    Edward pulls his foot away from the throat of Gringo, but before moving away delivers a stomp to the chest of his enemy.

    Samson lets go of the top rope and the referee darts between the two men – pointing towards a corner and demanding that Edward get into it. The Executioner backs off, to the far side of the ring but doesn’t bother banning himself to a turnbuckle.

    PH: Look at Edward, following the instructions of the official perfectly.

    JR: Yeah, just a shame he hasn’t done the same throughout the match.

    PH: Name me once he hasn’t ?

    JR: The sneak attack during Gringo’s entrance...

    PH: That was before the bout.

    JR: I feel we can make a technical exception and count it.

    PH: Of course you do, because then you’d be proven right.

    JR: Even away from this argument I think it will still be included when people talk about this match for years to come.

    The referee bends low to see how the Sensation is doing. With a hand to his throat and coughing loudly, it doesn’t look too happy in Mexchester at the moment. He rolls away from the official, towards the apron, and throws an arm over the bottom rope.

    LET’S GO GRING-GOH *clap, clap, clapclapclap* LET’S GO GRING-GOH *clap, clap, clapclapclap* LET’S GO GRING-GOH *clap, clap, clapclapclap* LET’S GO GRING-GOH *clap, clap, clapclapclap* LET’S GO GRING-GOH *clap, clap, clapclapclap*

    The crowd are trying to stir their champion, trying to breathe life into the flickering spirit inside of the Sensation.

    PH: Listen to these idiots... don’t they realise he’s struggling to breathe at the moment ?

    JR: The crowd believe in Gringo – they know that he can overcome this mountain.

    PH: I don’t know, he seems near the top and the air is starting to get real thin...

    Lucas has snuck off round the ring and is instructing Edward. The monster seems to know his master is there even though his full attention is on Gringo.

    JR: I’m not sure but I think the referee might be asking if the Iron Man wants to call it quits...

    We can see Evil Gringo gasping deeply as he pulls himself into a sort of seated position and his other arm is thrown over the middle rope. He is able to end up hanging over it as if for a 619.

    The referee moves to a standing position and to the side of Gringo, still talking to him and only getting head shaking as a response.

    PH: Whatever it is that the referee is suggesting, the idiot immigrant isn’t for it.

    One of Gringo’s arms reaches up for the top rope and grasps it desperately. Wiping his face on the middle one he places the bottom of his feet onto the ground and pushes upwards.

    Finding his footing, he shakily turns around and stares into the chilling stare of his enemy.


    Lucas has stopped talking, mid-speech by the looks of it as his mouth is open.

    Gringo’s legs seem to be shaking slightly as he keeps a tight hold of the top rope. His face is slightly purple from the choke but behind the off putting colour is a burning flame in his eyes. Taking a step forward, the support is left behind and he holds his own weight.

    PH: He’s a madman – a lunatic... the referee can’t stop what Edward is going to do to him...

    Holding out an arm in front of him, Gringo beckons towards Edward to... “bring it”...

    The monster doesn’t need asking twice and marches across the ring towards his opponent.

    The fans let out loud cheers as the Executioner is stopped in his tracks by a heavy left slap to the face.

    JR: Where did that come from ?

    Gringo pauses, his arms hanging almost without life as his chest puffs in and out. Edward straightens, recovering from the blow. But before he can do anything the right hand swings and delivers a knife-edge chop to the chest.

    The monster tenses up but a second hand slap puts that to a stop.

    PH: What is happening ?

    An open palm slap with the right hand connects with Edward’s chest before another left hand slap to the face. This is followed by a knife-edge chop by the right hand. The monster grunts angrily as a left slap cuts the noise short.


    Right hand slap.

    Left face slap.

    Right chest chop.

    Left face slap.

    Hand slap, face slap, chop, face, chest, face, chop, face....


    The fans are going crazy for the huge assault that has come out of nowhere.

    The last slap causes Edward to bend forward, almost falling over but most certainly dropping to one knee. With the monster now kneeling side-on to him, Gringo takes a hold of the back of the mask and pulls at it.

    PH: This kind of thing could cause brain damage – referee !

    JR: As you said, the referee can’t stop what Edward’s going to do to Gringo... and unfortunately he’s got to let the champ do what it takes as well.

    The Executioner takes quite the effort to pull up to both feet and Gringo vents with a cry of anger that only gets a positive response from the fans.

    Edward is kept side-on to Gringo; the Sensation grabs a tight hold of the mask and doesn’t bother to raise him any further than a bent-double position.

    PH: What does he have in mi... ?

    Gringo throws his leg upwards and straight into the face of Edward. It drops and barely touches the ground before he sends it crashing up again.

    The fans go absolutely wild as the Sensation starts rapidly booting the hooded hunter in the face with his lethal right legs.


    Having to pause for a moment, as it’s a difficult action to keep up, Gringo watches as the Executioner straightens up completely.

    PH: That was illegal and disgusting...

    JR: Those were unprotected shots – there was nothing stopping those kicks.

    PH: Because the mask we don’t even know what kind of damage was done to the face.

    JR: I imagine it will only be improvements.


    JR: You’re damn right, it looks like Gringo has knocked Edward out cold !

    Edward stares emptily at Gringo... somehow with less behind the eyes than usual. The Sensation doesn’t give it a second thought though as he flies to the ropes and comes running back, jumping into the air and holding his knee out in front. It crunches into the practically steam-rolled face of Eddie and he falls down like a mighty oak.

    PH: I can’t believe it – after all those strikes Edward is down and possibly brain-dead.


    On his feet, Gringo bends forward now and grabs the body of his opponent, heaving it over onto its back. With a look of exhaustion on his face he drops to his knees and grabs a leg.

    PH: This can’t be how it ends...

    JR: Gringo has thrown everything – every piece of energy and as much force as he can muster into each strike... the Iron Man lives up to his name tonight !


    The fans are cheering like mad, on their feet and praying to their various Gods above (and in certain circles – MetalHeads – below).

    Edward isn’t showing any sort of life at all – Gringo’s weight isn’t on the shoulders, rather more interested in holding the leg up.



    JR: The Triple Crown champion has successfully defended his belt.


    The fans are staring, desperate to be the first to notice any kind of movement...

    JR: OH MAH GAWD, NOOOO !!!!!

    PH: You are kidding me ?

    Gringo hears the crowd scream out three... he doesn’t feel any sort of break out... and yet... yet there was no final tap... no ringing of the bell... no smiling referee looking to raise his hand...

    JR: This is complete bu...

    PH: The greatest decision by an official ever ?


    The referee stopped counting as he happened to catch Lucas out of the corner of his eye with one leg in the ring and quickly continuing inside. Going with his instincts he abandoned the pin count to foil the evil manager – therefore making himself a hero to the masses in attendance.

    Why then is everybody booing ?!

    Lucas steps out onto the apron, chain noose in hand, and continues to flail wildly until he notices Gringo sitting up and giving up on the pin... angry-looking and wanting answers. As he turns towards the official he sees Thorp dropping down to the arena floor.

    The referee turns back to the action and is very surprised to see Gringo climbing to his feet and physically shaking. This isn’t the way he was earlier though, this one has gritted teeth and a furrowed brow... this has a tensed up and furious body that has just been f*cking screwed out of his belts.

    PH: Lucas knew that he needed to check on Edward.

    JR: Then he waits until the match is done !

    PH: Maybe he thought it was as good as over so wasn’t really listening – the emotion and worry took over I’m sure.

    JR: Oh right, is that why he was quick off the apron when Gringo reached his feet ?

    PH: Maybe he regained his sense, the referee explained the situation maybe ?

    JR: That low-down scummy Worm interfered on purpose to distract the referee.

    PH: I don’t like what you’re inferring.

    JR: I don’t like the fact this match isn’t over !

    With the referee moving towards a corner, to try and escape the warpath that might be about to start, Gringo is staring straight at the smug looking face of the Lord Justice. The Sensation can’t control himself, the blood is boiled and the steam is flooding out of his ears as he runs at the ropes.

    Lucas backs away quickly, nearly diving over the barrier to escape into the front row (poor audience) but has nothing too much to worry about as the Mexicutioner simply kicks the ropes with his right leg. Pointing behind him Gringo screams loudly ”I’m going to finish him...” before turning to an empty corner and heading towards it.

    PH: Well that’s certainly a threat if ever I heard it...

    JR: I think that Lucas has annoyed the General.

    PH: He’s just upset that his little flurry wasn’t enough to finish Edward off.

    JR: I think he’s more annoyed that it WAS, and yet here we are still calling the bout.

    Gringo is up to the middle rope and takes a small moment. He holds his chest with one hand before shaking his head and realising that it’s now or never. Turning as he climbs the top rope he looks in at Edward and remains crouched on his perch.

    He jumps into the air, brings both legs and arms close into the body before extending them all and flies with a fantastic looking Frog Splash !

    Edward gets his knees up and the Sensation rolls, having been hit hard and winded even more badly.

    PH: The Ode To Guerrero ended up being more of a dead duck...

    JR: The champ took a huge risk and it didn’t pay off – but can Samson take advantage of the situation... ?

    The Executioner is lying on the ground still, his feet planted on the mat but that not actually encouraging him to get up. Meanwhile Gringo is curled up on his side, groaning and holding his stomach as the various pains from earlier in the match come rushing back to him.

    The referee looks from side to side and realises that there’s only one thing to do.


    PH: A double count out... well things just got interesting.


    JR: Can you imagine it ending like THIS ?!

    Gringo tries to push himself into a seated position but seems to slip and falls back down to the ground, coughing as he does so.


    Edward isn’t moving, one of the legs that was bent actually straightens so he’s taken a step back more than anything.


    PH: All Edward needs to do is get up first, just find something deep inside...


    JR: I think you might be asking for a miracle just a little bit too unrealistic.

    Lucas is banging on the apron, screaming at his soldier to start climbing.

    Gringo forces himself up onto his hands and knees, leaning his head on the mat as he pulls together every last bit of fight he’s got in him.



    PH: I... I don’t believe... it...

    JR: No, something... something isn’t right...


    Edward... sits... up...

    Gringo pushes himself upwards, stopping on one knee to take a few short breaths but quickly continues upwards.


    On both feet, he turns around to see Edward just finding a vertical base as well.

    With the referee stopping the count, there is genuine terror in the face of the Sensation. He shakes his head in disbelief as the monster stands before him in all his... glory...

    PH: Sometimes two unstoppable forces come head to head and in these kinds of cases only an act of God will stop them.

    JR: Well I don’t see it happening, God’s probably enjoying this match far too much to try and interrupt it...

    PH: Edward Samson and The Evil Pingu have thrown move after move at each other for over twenty minutes now and they still refuse to give up – this is why TWOstars is the greatest company in the world, and why the Triple Crown belts are worth more than anything else.

    JR: You are so right, you see how important these are to these two men simply by looking at everything surrounding this match; I mean we’re in a company that is at war and being torn right down the middle, yet here these two – who are on the SAME SIDE – don’t give a damn about it just now. It is a battle to prove who IS the best in the company, who is the deserving leader, who is the top dog, if last week was a fluke and the Iron Man should be left to rust or if it’s time Edward thinks about using the noose on himself ?!?!?

    PH: And you know that SCW and ERE are watching in the back – every single one of them will be intrigued by where this match ends...

    JR: Let’s just hope they stay in the back to watch it, we have enough trouble with only Lucas out here without any of them.

    PH: I think Pingu would literally explode if any SCW guys came out and interfered.

    JR: I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a riot by the fans – especially that group in the front row.

    Gringo charges at Edward, looking for a lariat by the looks of it. The Executioner ducks underneath it and the Sensation stops pretty much immediately after passing his opponent. He tries to bring his arm down but feels it wrapping round a head. A tight grip appears on the inside of his leg and suddenly he’s lifted into the air.


    The Blue Thunder Bomb connects perfectly and the referee dives in as Edward keeps the impact position for a pin.


    The fans are booing angrily, they can’t believe it’s going to end like this.

    JR: That devastating finisher of Edward’s appeared out of nowhere – a perfect quick move that will knock the precious air out of the champ...

    PH: FORMER champion !


    Lucas is on the outside and nearly falling over with excitement – he can feel the gold hugging his pudgy shoulders.

    JR: Edward Samson is a THREE time Triple Crown champi...




    PH: No... the referee’s wrong...


    The arm flew into the air, a shoulder was raised and it was enough to count as a break up. Even though it collapsed back down to the ground, the best the referee can do is restarting the count...

    Edward doesn’t seem interested in that though, as he throws the legs to one side and starts to stand up. For those with damn good eyes, there appears to be some blood round the top of Edward’s body... I’d assume having dripped down his face and landed on his chest... oh dear me...

    He takes a hold of Robert and starts to pull the worn out Iron Man up to his feet. With the two of them standing toe to toe, the set up for the suplex comes without too much hassle.

    Edward attempts to hook one of Gringo’s legs and set up for a Fisherman, but Gringo uses his free arm to deliver a short elbow to the kidneys.

    PH: These two are going to leave everything in the ring tonight.

    The Executioner gives up trying to grab and this opens up the opportunity for Evil to hook a leg of his own.

    JR: Edward tried for one of his trademark Fisherman Suplex but things have very suddenly turned around.

    PH: Last week we saw Gringo struggle to lift the larger Sammy up, but might we be in luck tonight ?

    Gringo bends his knees and lifts hard and mightily.



    The Sensation gets his opponent into the air.

    Unfortunately it’s barely a foot off the mat and he has to give up before getting anything more.

    PH: No luck tonight Pingu, I don’t know why he thought he’d be able to do it...

    JR: Unfortunately the strong-spirit of Gringo is limited by his weakened body.

    The Iron Man tries again and this time doesn’t even get Samson off of the ground. His chest can be seen going in and out at a ridiculous pace as his poor heart starts to race...

    PH: I think that the final straw has been placed upon old Gringo’s back.

    Edward pulls on his trapped leg and the grip is broken easily, and in a tiny moment the Sensation finds himself being taken over in a successful Fisherman Suplex.

    JR: Oh Gawd – you might be right...

    Swinging his hips, or struggling up, Edward returns to his feet and keeps the position held before taking Gringo over for number two.

    PH: The Lethal Injection – the most humane way to end a man’s life.

    The fans are booing, they’re angry and almost a little disappointed in the Sensation for not succeeding... he’s the General of TWOstars... there’s nothing he can’t do...

    Edward takes a few moments to climb up to his feet for the second time. He’s basically dragging dead weight with him and after the beating he’s taken, well it’s a little heavier than if they were both fresh.

    Loosening his grip on the hooked leg for a moment, and reaching for a wrist to switch to his Death Penalty, Edward is looking to finish this in style.

    Unfortunately the leg drops down, not because Gringo asked for it to but just a bad position by Edward.

    JR: Oh no, he’s lost the Fisherman – maybe going for something completely separate ?

    PH: I’m not sure what he’s trying for...

    As Edward tries to hook the leg again, starting to wrap his arm round, suddenly the entire body of Gringo bends forward and charges hard.

    JR: What the... ?

    The Sensation pushes the Executioner backwards into a turnbuckle, the monster not having any sort of chance to plant his weight and so is taken like some rubbish under a mighty brush.

    Gringo bends his knees when they reach the corner, still in his spear-like-position, and lifts with all his might. Edward is shocked by this sudden jolt of energy, as are the doubting Thomas-esque fans. His arms wave awkwardly before gripping onto the top rope as he ends up seated on the turnbuckle.

    PH: I think Gringo’s gone completely round the bend...

    JR: Really ?! Or has he got a brilliant, brilliant plan.

    PH: I’m going with mad.

    JR: If there’s one place that Edward is NOT comfortable, it’s up on the top rope. Gringo has completely taken him out of his comfort zone.

    PH: I just don’t think that Pingu has any way of actually taking advantage now.

    Gringo climbs up to the middle rope, almost slipping as he does so. Now he’s face to face with Edward and attempts to set the monster up for a Superplex.

    JR: He’s going to try and slay Goliath by knocking him from the beanstalk...

    PH: Oh dear me, this could backfire so easily.

    Gringo is yanking hard on the slight front face lock he’s got – encouraging Edward to move up towards the top rope. Suddenly a gloved hand grips the side of his head though and with a mighty force shoves him...

    The boos erupt all around the arena as Gringo simply falls backwards off of the turnbuckle. He wasn’t holding on to any ropes, more concentrated on this “all or nothing” move and was set back because of it. However he lands on his feet and heads straight back towards the corner.

    Gringo looks like a battle-weary soldier who just wants to go home to his Mamacita... he knows in his head that it isn’t worth it but God-f*cking-dammit this big b*stard has really annoyed him and he would quite like to hold onto the belts now he’s finally got round to winning them.

    Plus he couldn’t live with himself if it was his fault that Lucas Thorp got to do any sort of bragging.

    And so it is with all this emotion running through his head that he looks to, again, go for a Superplex. But as he gets within the ‘personal space’ of Edward, the Executioner throws a leg out.

    JR: A kick to try and wind Gringo...

    PH: Oh no...

    The kick is badly aimed or maybe the Sensation’s reflexes are in better shape than we’d presume. Whatever the case he is able to catch the leg underarm... and he tightens the grip before closing in on the still seated monster.

    JR: What is Gringo doing just now ?

    PH: Edward can fight back – it’s possible...

    The monster’s hands are firmly wrapped round the top rope though as Gringo reached up towards the head of Edward and drags it down... locking it in a front face lock, and the grip is suddenly released. For a brief second Edward is balanced on the turnbuckle by one foot almost resting on the middle pad... before Gringo lifts upwards and holds his opponent upside down and staggers backwards a few steps...


    Gringo falls round and to the side, dropping Edward onto his neck and shoulders, letting go of the fisherman hold and collapsing with one arm over the chest of the masked creature.

    PH: NO ! HOW DID HE DO IT ?!


    The referee starts the count and the fans are back to their feet, they are cheering loudly and are desperate... they can feel it in their bones...


    Gringo’s cover is pathetic, but dammit Edward looks out of it.

    JR: Evil Gringo realised he couldn’t pick up his opponent, so took him up high and dragged him down instead !

    PH: Edward is going to come back, come on Lucas...

    The manager has started up onto the apron, his eyes bulging in terror as he realises that the sh*t might really have hit the fan.

    This time though the referee doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care, because he brings his hand down for the final time...



    The referee stands up and demands the bell to be rung to end the match and looks for the belts to be handed in.


    The fans are going absolutely nuts, cheering and screaming, applauding and clapping, stomping and crying... everybody in the arena cannot believe that their man has actually, finally, done it.

    PH: I don’t know what to say... I really don’t...

    Lucas has slid off of the apron, his face is angry and the chain in his hands is gripped tight. Turning to the steel steps he smashes it off of them hard two times before throwing it to the ground and grabbing at his hair in frustration.

    In the ring the champion has rolled onto his front and is opening and closing his eyes as the referee stands over him, offering down the belts.

    JR: Gringo is the undisputed General of TWOstars, he is the number one man in the company and he can now focus on removing this company of the invaders that are trying to take over.

    PH: Oh you really think it’s over do you – between these two men I mean ?

    JR: Well that’s now two matches that Gringo has won, it most definitely wasn’t a fluke anymore...

    PH: Do you really think that Lucas is going to let this lie ?

    JR: I’ll happily wait until another day to worry about what that fat sour-cheeks is going to be plotting.

    Sitting up, the Sensation rubs the back of his head before starting up to his feet. As he takes the belts, the big Chimel finally decides to make the announcement...

    TC: And the winner of the match, by piiiiiiiiiiinfall, and STILL TWOstars Triple Crown champion... The Eviiiiiiiiiiiiiil Griiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiingo.


    “Iron Man” starts playing as Gringo stands in the centre of the ring with his three belts. With the World title slid down his shoulder, he holds the other two aloft, proudly for the world and gives a genuine (if exhausted) smile.

    PH: Look at him, he doesn’t even know where he is.

    JR: THIS is the moment the Gringo deserved all the way back at the entrances, a moment to celebrate with his fans... and I’m so damn glad that he got it.

    PH: Well I just wonder what SCW will have in store for Gringo – he’s now got two huge targets painted on him...

    JR: Whatever challenges come his way, I’m quite sure that the Mexicutioner will be able to deal with it.

    The camera follows Gringo out of the ring, the champion sliding a belt down to his empty shoulder before moving up the ramp and slapping various fans with still adoring fans. One particularly keen lad grabs the Mexican in a huge embrace, but being the professional that he is, Gringo takes it all in his step.

    Our final shot is of Gringo standing on the stage with the one belt still held high – the Hardcore in this instance – as his music fills the arena with hope of a better tomorrow.
  6. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000
    WEB: He’s the man who’s done it all.

    TG: With each passing person, I think we’ve reached the most decorated but then the next reveal just pips them...

    WEB: He’s known as the “Kingpin of Tag Team wrestling” and with good reason.

    TG: Having led four separate teams to championship gold, I can see why he’d make the claim.

    WEB: Cage has prided himself on dragging anyone else along for the ride – and has gone on to make a name for himself as a singles wrestler as well.

    TG: Not to mention being the wielder of the GOOOOOOOOORE! GOOOOOOOOORE! GOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!

    WEB: What was that?

    TG: I was... trying to do Paul Heyman.

    WEB: Don’t get me wrong, it was pretty good... but wow, really?

    TG: Why don’t you just introduce the match.

    WEB: The Tag titles were being retired in mid-2007 after AC/DC – a team made up of Draven Cage and Apollo Chambers – had beaten everybody TWOstars had to offer. They issued an open challenge to any team to come to TWOstars and get a title shot so when Too Cool, Harlem Heat, The Impact Players, RVD & Sabu, The New Age Outlaws and LAX all answered the call, it was up to the crowd to decide who got the title shot. Even with the fans behind them, RVD and Sabu couldn’t do it though and so it fell, the next week, to the Impact Players to try and get the job done.

    TG: This is one of the pinnacle matches in TWOstars history so strap yourself in for one hell of a ride.

    WEB: In the match, as a bit of trivia – the only appearance of a Singapore Cane Full-Nelson Suplex EVEEEER... so keep your eyes peeled for that.

    TWOstars – XTV3:28
    Tag Team championship

    AC/DC(c) VS The Impact Players ​

    We come from the backstage area and find ourselves back at ringside. In the ring, for this match only, we have former ECW referee Jim Molineaux and returning from last week, ring announcer Stephen DeAngelis.

    Styles: It's now time for what could quite possibly be the most violent match in TWOStars history.

    Heyman: If Apollo and Draven stay true to their word, then there is no doubt that we are in for some violent carnage. I urge all of those watching to make sure the kiddies are in bed for this one.

    Styles: And what about the revelation that no team, in or out of TWOStars, is willing to step into the ring with the current champions.

    Heyman: Except Justin Credible and Lance Storm.

    Styles: Impact Players excepted. And just what did Holt's secretary advise him to do?

    Heyman: I don't know. But with her being a woman, you can guarantee that it'll be painful to the menfolk around here whatever it is.

    Prong erupt across the airwaves as 'Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck' blares out of the speakers. The crowd explode in a massive chorus of boos as The Impact Players break through the curtain, Dawn Marie leading the way and Jason bringing up the rear.

    Heyman: This is a disgrace. These four are bonafide ECW legends, and they deserve to be treated as such.

    Styles: I don't think I've ever heard a more hostile rection in my career, and that includes John Cena taking on Rob Van Dam last year with a one-hundred percent pro-RVD crowd.

    The fans throw cups of beer at the faction as they make their way down the aisle towards the ring. A large plastic cup (of what looks like Coca-Cola, but is more likely to be Rola-Cola) smacks Credible on the back of the head, causing the bald wrestler to snap around and confront the throwee, a slightly overweight smark who you just know spends his nights on a wrestling internet forum complaining about what's wrong with the business, and how he'd do a better job than those who've been running things for decades.

    Styles: Credible giving that fan a piece of his mind.

    Heyman: The fat bastard deserves more than that, he deserves to be taken outside and to have the living shi...


    Justin, having leapt over the rail, has pulled the fans shirt over his head, hockey style, and is laying into him with full-force punches and kicks.

    Styles: You can't attack the fans.

    Heyman: Well the fan should know better than to provoke someone who doesn't care about the consequences.

    Styles: Finally..security getting Credible back on his side of the barricade. Lance Storm doing his best to refocus his partner on the immediate task at hand.

    JC steps back into the aisleway and continues to head towards the ring. The fans erupt in an even more verocious bout of booing and jeering. The former Aldo Montoya responds by flipping the bird in their direction and then "masturbating" his singapore cane and acting as if he was ejaculating on them, which makes them get even louder still. Lance Storm stays focused and continues to head to the ring. Jason and Dawn Marie are already in there.

    Heyman: I see Justin is taking the time to endear himself to these fine New York fans.

    Styles: I didn't expect anything less to be honest.

    The two men who have to face the champions enter the ring and walk around the structure while Stephen DeAngelis composes himself and awaits for the music to stop playing.

    DeAngelis: Ladies and Gentlemen, this match is for the TWO WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP!! Introducing first, the challengers. Accompanied to the ring by Dawn Marie...
    ...And "The Sexiest Man on Earth" Jason...
    ...Firstly, weighing in tonight at two-hundred and twenty-eight pounds, from Calgary, Alberta, Canada..LANCE STOOOOOOORM!!

    The pride of Canada ascends the buckles on the inside and throws his arms in the air, posing for the thousands of cameras pointed in his direction. The boos from the capacity crowd don't seem to be fazing him.

    Heyman: These fans think they're getting to Lance Storm, but look at the man, not a flicker of emotion.

    Styles: How can you tell?

    Storm steps down, while DeAngelis continues his announcement of the challengers.

    DeAngelis: And his partner, weighing in at two-hundred and twenty-five pounds, from Ozone Park, New York...JUSTIN CREDIBLE! Together, they are THE IMPACT PLAYERS!!!


    The fans go completely apesh*t at their fellow New-Yorker, disgusted at his actions last week and his reactions this week. JC climbs onto the ropes at the middle, one foot on the bottom rope and one on the middle one, his right hand raised and holding his weapon of choice aloft.

    Styles: Once again, this match will be contested as an original ECW match, which, in theory, should favour the challengers.

    Heyman: Oh, no doubts. The Impact Players made examples of Shane Douglas, The Sandman, Tommy Dreamer, Sabu and Raven when they were in ECW, and that was when the style was in its prime.

    Styles: Stephen DeAngelis is ready to introduce the champions.

    The camera switches to the hard-cam as Mr. DeAngelis prepares to introduce the second team into the match.

    DeAngelis: And their opponents, represen....

    Offscreen: EXCUSE ME!!! EXCUSE ME!!!

    The camera pivots quickly to the entranceway, the multitude of boos letting us know that the uninvited guest is not of the welcome variety. The two announcers cannot believe what they are seeing.



    Heyman: I have no idea.

    Cyrus: EXCUSE ME!!! My name is Cyrus, and I'm here to save this television show.

    The crowd go mental, in a negative sense, towards the former leader of The Network in ECW. The man who briefly worked for the WWF as The Jackyl enters the ring and ushers DeAngelis to the outside. Credible and Storm shake his hand as he passes, as does Jason. Dawn jumps up and down with excitement, which also seems to excite Cyrus as well.

    Cyrus: Hello New York. I know you weren't expecting your's truly to make an appearance tonight, but when I heard that my two favourite wrestlers were going to win the World Tag Team Titles on my network, then I had to see it in person.

    Styles: I haven't seen him in two years and he still annoys me.

    Heyman: He was one of the only people I actually enjoyed not paying.

    Cyrus: That's right folks, my network. Y'see, back when I left the wrestling industry three years ago, I actually improved myself. And that's how I ended up becoming a vice-president here at HBO. And I'm here to make sure that the network is not embarassed by the threats made by Draven Cage and Apollo Chambers. I don't care what you've been promised, but HBO is a respectable network, and that means no overt violence, no nudity and certainly no bloodshed.

    The fans, enraged at the presence of the anti-hardcore establishment, let the entire assembly in the ring have it with both barrels.

    Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

    Cyrus: You can boo all you like, but tonight, the titles will be defended in a good old-fashioned wrestling match. So Mr. Referee, you bald bastard, if there is any blood spilled tonight, any weapons used or any illegal tactics on the part of the champions, then you are to stop this match and award the titles their rightful owners, The Impact Players.

    Styles: HBO not wanting violence and blood? He's really gone and lost it.

    The entire crowd let Cyrus know exactly how they feel about him.



    The TV exec smirks smugly and holds up his little pass-thingy with HBO on it. He seems overly proud about the fact he wields the power to ruin this match.

    Cyrus: I've got the stroke to make it happen, and there's nothing anybody can do about it.

    The Impact Players applaud the biased decision making, all the while Cyrus stalks the ring, gloating in his own importance.

    Offscreen: WELL, WELL, WELL!

    The camera catches the startled look on the face of all in the ring before switching to the aisle once more. The entire arena erupts as yet another ECW alumnus enters stage left.


    Styles: JOEL GERTNER!? I never thought I'd be glad to see him.

    Heyman: Me neither.

    Gertner: That's right Albany, it is I, the quintessential studmuffin, the man whose wit is more tongue in cheek than a lesbian orgy, Joel 'I'm like the middle of the litter box...I'm always surrounded by pussy'...

    Joel & the crowd: GERTNERRRRRRR!!

    The fans lap up the innuendo, giving the former manager of The Dudleys a rousing response.

    Cyrus: What're you doing here, you fat piece of sh*t?

    Gertner: Hello Cyrus. Well first of all, I also had a little meeting today with the executives who are actually in charge of something at HBO, and I spent all afternoon telling them what an ass-hole you are.


    Gertner: And once we were done, they basically realised what we've all known for years, and they fired your ass.

    The fans cheer the fact Cyrus is out of another job.

    Gertner: And not only that, but they also told me to tell those two jabronies behind you that the following match will be an anything goes, all weapons legal Albany f*ckin' Streetfight.

    The crowd respond wildly to the cheap-pop, even though a streetfight in Albany is the same as a streetfight anywhere else.

    Gertner: As for you Cyrus, I hate to tell you this, but they've already started emptying your office...including that "special" place that you thought no-one knew about.

    Cyrus: MY GERMAN HORSE POR....I mean, my encyclopedias. I, um, I better go and make sure that they don't, um, get lost in transit.

    Cyrus leaps from the ring and vaults the barricade. He sprints to the back and, as far as anyone can tell, straight out a side exit, never to be seen again. In the ring, The Impact Players are fuming at the revelation by Joel Gertner.

    Gertner: As for you two, don't worry about me, you need to worry about facing these guys. And that streetfight I mention, well it's going to happen RIGHT..F*CKIN'..NOW!!

    'Ich Will' - Rammstein

    Styles: And here come the champions.

    DeAngelis: And the opponents, representing F.E.R.E., and weighing in at a com...

    "The Hangman" and Apollo waste no time and belt straight into the ring at full pelt. The tag titles in the possesion of Bobby Banks and Angel who are still sauntering to ringside. Bobby looks more serious than ever, while Angel is still having trouble with her neck. Gertner slips quietly to the back as the match gets underway.

    Styles: The champs not wanting to wait for the formalities. And The Impact Players are on the backfoot already.

    Cage tackles JC to the mat and lays into him with rights and lefts. Still upright, Lance Storm takes jab after jab from the New York half of the champions. The referee can do nothing about it, basically reduced to being a bystander until a pinfall is attempted or a submission locked on.


    Heyman: Cage looks like he may actually commit a felony here tonight.

    Styles: Justin Credible thrown out of the ring between the ropes. Draven's following him out.

    Heyman: They're taking it to the floor.

    DC whips JC across the length of the ring and hard into the security barricade. The former Aldo Montoya slams backfirst into it and lays on the matting at ringside. Cage stalks across to meet him. Meanwhile, in the ring, Apollo has a headlock on Lance Storm.

    Styles: Headlock by Chambers..to the ropes, Storm shoves off. Shoulderblock by Apollo and Storm is down.

    Heyman: Draven's just thrown Justin Credible over the barricade and into the crowd. This thing is going to go all over the building.

    Cage indeed has thrown Justin into the crowd, and is now climbing over the barrier to get at him. Storm, still stunned by the shoulderblock watches as Apollo runs the ropes to his right.

    Styles: Apollo of the ropes, Lance rolls, Apollo over the top. Storm to his feet, leapfrog, Apollo of the ropes again..DROPKICK BY LANCE STORM!!

    Heyman: One of the best dropkicks in the history of the business.

    Styles: Lance Storm, a former volleyball player back in his native Canade, has a tremendous vertical leap.

    Heyman: And in the ring, where it matters, he is in control of the match.

    Storm, happy to get the advantage, presses on with stomps to the back and legs of the larger man. Back amongst the people, DC has managed to get a beer can from one of our regular ringsiders and chuggs the remnants that remain. He then holds the can in his palm and basically thrust-strikes it into the forehead of the Ozone Park resident.

    Heyman: That's hardly a shock. "The Hangman" drinking on the job. Or being the first to bring a weapon into play.

    Styles: Lance Storm needs to press his advantage while there is a battle raging elsewhere.

    It seems that Lance heard the "Extreme Announcer" speaking, as he shows no signs of letting up with the offence. He stomps Chambers one more time and then steps to the outside of the ring and positions himself on the apron.

    Heyman: We've seen this before from Storm.

    Styles: Apollo's getting to his feet, but he can't see Storm behind him. Lance with a springboard..WHAT A CLOTHESLINE!!

    Heyman: He almost decapitated the Samoan.

    Styles: COVAH!!


    Apollo kicks out well before the three, but is still in trouble as the Canadian locks in a reverse-chinlock. Apollo won't quit to it, but it will wear him down. Back in the crowd, DC has been owning Credible, and now has acquired a steel chair from a fan.

    Styles: Cage has a chair, and look at Justin Credible beg off.

    JC drops to his knees and pleads with his tormentor to give him some quarter. Draven looks around the arena as if looking for approval from the masses to inflict more damage...which he receives in spades. He looks at his enemy and shrugs, lifts the chair high above his head and starts to swing it slowly down towards the skull of The Impact Play...

    Styles: Low-blow by the challenger.

    Heyman: If Draven had spent less time hinting he was going to hit him and more time actually hitting him, that wouldn't have happened.

    Styles: Now Justin's got the chair.

    Credible stands above the testically-impaired champion and does a little crotch-chop. He then raises the chair and *BAM* smashes it into the exposed spine of "The Hangman". Cage drops to his front and holds the small of his back.

    Credible: You think you're so tough muthaf*cka?

    *BAM* The chair smashes into the champs back once again. Back to the ring and we see that Apollo has started to rise from his seated position, although Storm still has the hold locked in. Jason and Bobby Banks trade insults as both females taunt each other across the ring.

    Styles: What's he doing with that chair?

    Heyman: It appears that he's doing whatever he wants to.

    Styles: Justin Credible laying that chair across the back of Cage's head **CLUNK** OH MY GOD!!

    Heyman: Draven will play no more part in this match.

    Styles: Steel chair stomped into the skull of the "One Man Ball of Destruction".

    DC lays on the floor quivering. The impact of the stomp onto the chair stunning him into almost unconsciousness. Apollo is now fully erect (no sniggering) and has backed Lance into a corner. An elbow weakens the chinlock, and a second breaks it completely. With the hold released, Chambers turns around and lands a hard chop to the chest of his challenger.

    Crowd: WOOOOOOO!!

    And another...

    Crowd: WOOOOOOO!!

    And finally, a third...

    Crowd: WOOOOOOO!!

    Apollo then grabs the left arm of Lance and whips him across the ring and hard into the opposite corner, follows him in and lands a hard knee to the jaw, dropping Storm to a seated position. With Justin Credible still staggering his way back to the ring, Lance is at the mercy of the 300lber.

    Styles: Apollo with the sole of his boot against the forehead of Lance Storm.

    Heyman: Repeatedly scraping it across the nose and brow.

    Styles: Chambers off the ropes..WHAT A KNEE TO THE FACE!!

    Heyman: Who does he think he is? Mick Foley?

    Styles: It doesn't look like it matters who he thinks he is, it still worked.

    Apollo draws his thumb across his throat and signals that this is going to be it. He first grabs Storm in a go-behind waistlock and muscles him over with a German suplex....

    Styles: No bridge, all impact. He's holding on.

    Heyman: He's locked in a full-nelson.

    Styles: DRAGON-SUPLEX!! And he's still holding on.

    Chambers drives the Canuck into the mat again, and for the second time, continues to keep a grip of his opponent. He picks the groggy Storm up off the mat and locks in a waistlock again, but this time grabs Lance's right arm with his left and vice-versa. He then takes him over with a bridging suplex.

    Styles: "3 Kinds of Pain" delivered to Lance Storm. Molineaux drops for the count.


    Heyman: Kickout by Lance Storm.

    Styles: And Chambers can hardly believe it.

    Heyman: Apollo is pissed off now.

    The man from Brooklyn grabs the stunned figure of Lance Storm and places his head between his legs. He reaches down around his waist and hoists Storm onto his shoulder. A hand under each armpit allows the champion to extend his arms and hold Lance in a crucifix position.

    Styles: He's going for The Perfect Ending.

    Heyman: If he hits this, then it will b...***CRACK***...nevermind.

    Styles: What timing on the part of Justin Credible. Singapore cane to the midsection of the champion.

    Heyman: Storm's free...

    Styles: Apollo's hurt and staggering...superkick by Storm **CRACK** CANE SHOT TO THE HEAD!!! Chambers is down.

    The camera cuts to the area of the crowd where Cage and Credible were brawling, and we see that "The Hangman" is back on his feet and has the chair in his hand. We can also see that, just like last week, DC has been busted open, and busted badly.

    Styles: He's bleeding profusely.

    Heyman: The chairshot probably opened up the same cut from last week.

    Styles: Either way, Cage is heading back towards the ring.

    Credible picks up Apollo, allowing the camera to see that he, like his partner, is wearing a crimson mask. Both challengers grab the champion by the wrist and whip him across the ring, catching him on the rebound with a picture-perfect flapjack, hoisting the man up and then driving him, chest and face-first, into the mat.

    Styles: Apollo is in serious trouble. He's winded and bleeding badly.

    Heyman: And his partner still has a lot of ground to cover before he's back in the ring.

    The Impact Players pick up "The Real Deal" and whip him into the ropes again. They then link arms and await his return to the centre of the ring.

    Styles: Double-clothesline, no ducked, Apollo off the other side, double dropkick, one foot to each opponent.

    Heyman: He's got them down, but he needs to stay on them.

    Apollo measures Justin and catches him with a lariat, dropping him again. Lance gets the same treatment, dropping him also. Chambers charges Credible again and lands a second lariat, again dropping the Stone Cold look-a-like on his denim-clad arse.

    Styles: Chambers has regained the momentum in this match...

    Apollo charges Storm again, but Lance is ready for him and slides between the champs legs, hooking the left ankle as Chambers passes overhead. The former Thrillseeker then backward rolls to his feet, still holding the leg, and locks in the best version of a single-leg Calgary crab this side of kayfabe.

    Heyman: You were saying?

    Styles: What a counter by Lance Strom. That is probably the best technical wrestling exchange you will ever see....anywhere.

    Heyman: Did you just call him "Strom"?

    Lance applies the pressure to the hold, sitting as far back as he can and wrenching the back and knee of the champion. Apollo grits his teeth, not wanting to go out this way, even though no-one would blame him for submitting to the excruciating pain involved. AC's hand wavers inches above the mat, and as the pain gets more and more, the fans get louder and louder in support of the largest man in this match. With the support ringing in his ears, it seems that Apollo is getting a second wind.

    Heyman: He's powering out Joey.

    Styles: That's unbelievable. The strength that takes is phenomenal.

    Chambers digs deep and brings his right knee in to his chest, allowing him to get on all-threes. He pushes up with his hands, fully extending his arms and finally powers out of the hold, sending Lance Storm flying forward.

    Styles: HE BROKE IT!!!

    Heyman: And he's getting up.

    Apollo gets to his feet, just in time to greet Lance with a right hand to the jaw. Lance goes down, but gets up and walks into a second blow to the head. Chambers is on the offensive now and lands a huge kick to the gut of Storm, doubling him over. He then lands a quick spinning neckbreaker. Credible then steps into the fray, but is caught with a sweet belly-to-belly suplex, taking him to the mat also.

    Styles: Both challengers on the defensive once again.

    Credible shows the anguished expression of a man struggling to catch a breath as he rolls on the mat. Storm gets back to his feet and takes another jab to the chin. He whips Lance off the ropes, but is reversed.

    Styles: Reversal by Storm, Credible with a kick to the gut then off the ropes, boot to the head by Storm...FACEPLANT DDT BY JUSTIN CREDIBLE!!!

    A replay shows us once again what happened. Lance reversed the whip and sent Apollo into the path of his partner. Credible landed a kick to the gut of Chambers, doubling him over. As soon as he had both feet on the ground again, JC was charging off the ropes to the right of the champion. As Justin was running, Lance Storm landed a Yakuza Kick-like blow to the side of Apollo's head, turning him straight into the path of the returning Credible, who hooked the head of the New York native and leapt into a spinning faceplant-DDT, driving the bloody forehead of Apollo Chambers into the mat.

    Heyman: It seems that when it's two-on-one, Apollo can't catch a break.

    Styles: Jason is saying that this match is now over.

    Heyman: And who'se going to say otherwise?

    Lance picks up Apollo, and much like Chambers did to him earlier, he places his opponent's head between his legs. Credible also signals that the match is now over and steps across to where his partner is.


    A steel chair flys across the ring and smacks Justin square in the face. Lance Storm pulls the larger wrestler up into the piledrive position, but this leaves him exposed to assault, which Draven Cage wastes no time in taking advantage of, throwing a second chair into the Henry Rollins-like features of the Team Canada leader.

    Heyman: It looks like Draven learned a few tricks from his match with RVD and Sabu.

    Styles: And they sure as hell are effective.

    The champions look down at their stunned challengers, and through blook-soaked faces, smile a sadistic grin. The fans cheer at the prospect of some good old-fashioned ultra violence. AC and DC await for Storm and Credible to get to their feet, which they both do in a groggy fashion. They get to their feet and turn to face their attackers.

    Styles: Goozle on Storm by Cage.

    Heyman: Credible up into a fireman's carry by Chambers.

    The two fan-favourites (for tonight at least) look out to the crowd and then complete their offence.

    Styles: CHOKESLAM!! Lance Storm was in the lights.

    Heyman: Gutbuster by Apollo. Both challengers are down.

    The two title holders look at their writhing opponents and then at the applauding Angel and Bobby Banks. Unfortunately they don't see Jason sneaking up behind them.

    Heyman: Low-blows by Jason.

    Styles: That sneaky sh*t.

    Heyman: You can't say sh*t on network television. What the f*ck's wrong with you?

    The champions drop to the mat clutching their family jewels as Jason poses above them. Unfortunately for him, he's too busy admiring his own work to see Bobby Banks sneak up behind him and land a shot to the 'nads as well.

    Styles: And Bobby Banks with a receipt for Jason.

    Heyman: The world's sexiest testicles will be non-functioning tonight.

    Jason drops to the mat and is then rolled/kicked to the outside by the flamoyant pimp-like manager. Unfortunately for him, he is too busy telling Jason to stay out of things, he doesn't see Dawn Marie creeping into the ring.

    Styles: And the Bytch, that's B-Y-T-C-H, strikes again.

    Heyman: Is everyone getting punched in the nuts tonight?

    Dawn Marie gives Banks hell as he lays clutching his pimping-orbs. But, yes, you've guessed it, she is too busy mocking a fallen man, she doesn't notice the sultry redheaded wife of Draven Cage entering the ring. Angel grabs Dawn by the hair and wrenches her to the ground.


    Heyman: There's nary a sight more exciting than two hot women rolling around in skimpy clothes.

    The two females roll around for a bit, both getting the upperhand at certain stages until they get separated by the referee. Both women stand tall, their hair a mess, and then charge at each other. The bad news for Dawn is that Angel's been learning a few tricks from her husband.

    Styles: Angel with a spear on Dawn Marie.

    Heyman: She-Gore!She-Gore!!SHE-GORE!!!

    Styles: What?

    Heyman: She hit her so hard, Dawn may have broken implants.

    Angel, having driven her shoulder into the midsection as hard as she could, takes full advantage of everyone else being on the floor and in pain. She drags the disshevelled frame of Torrie Wilson's stepmother and places her, seated, in the corner. She then takes her boot, with a five inch heel, and does a facewash with it, scraping the pointy heel into the forehead of Dawn Marie.

    Heyman: Looks like she's been watching Apollo too.

    Styles: OH MY GOD!!! The heel of that boot is carving into the skull of Dawn Marie. Look at the blood pouring from her head.

    The camera zooms in to show the carnage, and it's plain to see that Dawn is in serious trouble. The blood drips from her head and streams down her face. In the position she is in, it drops from her chin and trickles down her breasts. Far from titillating however, it is actually disturbing to watch.

    Styles: This may have gone too far.

    Heyman: Even in the original ECW, we never had anything like this.

    Angel scrapes her boot one more time across the drenched face of Dawn Marie, the blood visible on her boot and flicked onto a sign that a fan is holding in the front row. She then draws her thumb across her throat and runs across the ring in the same manner as Apollo did earlier.


    Heyman: We need some medical assistance out here right now.

    Styles: C'mon now. I know she was attacked last week, but enough is enough.

    Angel picks up the wasted carcass of Dawn Marie and shows the camera (and the world) the viciousness of her assault. She then places the bleeding diva into a front-facelock and ascends to the second rope, as if setting up for a tornado-DDT. Angel has other ideas though and with a rebellious yell leaps overhead and flips onto her tight, tight ass, driving the back of Dawn Marie's neck into her shoulder.

    Styles: ANGELDUST!!!! Dawn Marie needs to be taken away from the ring.

    Heyman: Looks like those backstage heard you.

    Some EMTs and road agents swarm to ringside. The agents try to calm Angel down, while the EMTs deal with the injured female. The blood from Dawn's head soaks the canvas as the medical team drag her onto a stretcher and wheel her to the back. The agents are having a more torrid time with the redhead, one of whom gets a hard slap to the chops for his insolence. The finally convince the "Purveyor of Lustful Thoughts" to leave with them and calm down backstage.

    Styles: Finally we've got both women out of the way.

    Heyman: That scared me, and I'm a fearless man Joey Styles.

    The four legal men in the match are still holding their painful parts when Bobby Banks gets to his feet. Jason beats him to it though and lands a hard chairshot to the skull of the manager. "The Sexiest Man Alive" then climbs to the top turnbuckle, chair still in hand, and measures Banks.

    Styles: What's he gonna do here?

    Jason takes a breath and dives off, crashing the chair into the head of the fallen pimp-cane wielder. Credible's second then poses with both hands above his head in an "X" sign.

    Styles: Who does he think he is, New Jack?

    Heyman: Bobby Banks has just been taken out of this match. We started with eight and we're down to five.

    'Natural Born Killaz' - Dr. Dre & Ice Cube

    Styles: MAKE THAT FOUR!!!!

    The crowd, recognising the music straight away, turn to the entranceway to see if it really is him. They are not disappointed.

    Styles: NEW JACK!! The "Original Gangsta" is here, and that spells bad news for Jason.

    New Jack saunters out into the aisle, garbage can of goodies in tow, and heads towards the ring. The camera gets as close to New Jack as he feels safe too.

    New Jack: Some niggas gonna die tonight. No-one but New Jack throws the "X" around here.

    The former ECW Tag champ charges to the ring and throws the bin over the ropes. New Jack enters the ring and lands a blow to the throat of Jason, stunning him enough to allow Jack to empty the garbage can out. First thing that comes to hand is a cookie sheet, which soon meets up with Jason's head.

    Styles: Jason Knight is about to meet his maker.

    Heyman: New Jack's got a telephone.

    Styles: (as New Jack pushes some buttons) He's dialling nine-one-one.

    New Jack crashes the telephone off the skull of the former ECW TV Champ, dropping him to the mat again. Jack grabs a Princess Diana Memorial Plate and lays it across the prone nether regions of Jason. He then grabs a vacuum cleaner that was also in the bin and starts to push it around the canvas....

    Heyman: Go on, say it.

    Styles: New Jack's cleaning house.

    *BAM* The hoover is swung overhead and driven hard into the plate, smashing it, and Jason's balls, to pieces. Jason flounces on his back, the pain shooting through his body, but for this man, the pain is just beginning.

    Styles: A STAPLE GUN!!!

    Heyman: OWWWW!!

    Crowd: HOLY SH*T!! HOLY SH*T!! HOLY SH*T!!

    The blood flows down the forehead of Jason Knight, his eyes barely open as the pain racks his body. New Jack drags him to the outside and leads him up the aisle. The fans are going ballistic as New Jack kicks Jason in the balls and then gets a table. The former Gangstinator sets the table up and then places the injured Jason on top of it. The fans, as is anyone familiar with the exploits of New Jack, know what's coming next.

    Heyman: He's climbing the TWOTron.

    Styles: That's forty-feet in the air...that's way too high.

    New Jack gets to the top, and amid a chorus of E-C-Dub chants, he leaps off the top of the screen and drops a full 37ft (the table is 3ft tall) and lands a combination splash/elbow attack onto Jason.

    Styles: Someone call Mrs. Knight and tell her that her son isn't coming home....ever.

    Heyman: The champs are getting their feet.

    The camera briefly catches some backstage officials racing to the scene of the impact before returning to the ring, where the champions are on their feet, bloody and pissed. Draven slips out of the ring and looks under the apron. He then returns to the ring carrying something shiny.


    Heyman: What's he got in his hand.

    Styles: *concerned* That's a glave.

    Apollo picks up the singapore cane left in the ring, while Cage has his double-bladed weapon. Lance Storm gets to his feet and turns around **CRACK** straight into a cane shot to the skull. Credible hasn't made it to his feet yet, but that doesn't seem to be a concern for "The Hangman", as he steps behind the seated JC, pulls his head back and drags the blade across the forehead of the man who assaulted his wife last week.

    Styles: That is sick. No-one deserves that.

    Heyman: NOT AGAIN!!!

    Styles: Look at the blood.

    **CRACK** Storm takes the cane to head again, splitting him open too. All four men are bleeding, but none more so than Justin. The camera zooms in to get a better look as Draven draws the blade across Credible's head for a third time. With the blood dripping down the edge of the glave, DC violates about a hundred health codes and licks some of the crimson from the steel.

    Heyman: I'm glad we didn't have this guy in ECW.

    The referee finally gets the blade away from Cage as Apollo smashes the cane into the head of Lance Storm for a third time, which seems to be enough to appease the big Samoan. Both Impact Players are on the mat, probably wondering why they showed up in the first place.


    Styles: Cage takes the cane from his partner, and now he's got it across the throat of Justin Credible. I've never seen that before.

    Heyman: It's almost like a full-nelson, but using the cane instead of Credible's arms.

    The camera gets in tight, where we can see exactly what's going on. The cane is across the throat of JC, and DC has fed his arms under the cane and looped them back behind Justin's head. It's locked in vice-tight and Credible is thrashing around, the life being squeezed out from inside.

    Cage: TIME TO END THIS SH*T!!!

    Draven snaps back and pops his hips, taking the former running-buddy of The Clique over in, I suppose, a Singapore Cane Full-Nelson Suplex. With no room to move, Justin lands fully on the top of his bleeding skull, compressing the vertebrae and putting unbelievable pressure on the neck. The crowd respond with an overwhelming chant of "That was awesome" over and over again.

    Heyman: He just killed Justin Credible.

    Styles: Not quite. He's still breathing....barely.

    Heyman: Cage tossing aside the cane.

    Styles: The champs staring daggers into Lance Storm.

    Apollo stands behind Lance Storm, slightly crouched and near the ropes. Draven has stepped out onto the apron and is poised also.

    Styles: They're setting up for a Highway to Hell.

    Heyman: But Cage is outside the ring. (Both men look at each other and then mouth "No way")

    Apollo hoists Storm up into the flapjack and Cage leaps up and grabs him by the neck....

    Crowd: H-2-H

    ...but instead of the usual stunner in the ring, Cage leaps to the floor, dragging Storm's neck with him and draping it across the top rope. Lance bounces off the strand and rebounds about eight feet in the air, crashing down into the centre of the ring with a thud. Apollo leaps into the cover as Draven walks over to the timekeeper's table to get their belts. The referee leaps down to count the fall.



    Styles: They did it, they retained the titles AND got revenge for last week's assualt.

    Heyman: After that though, there is no way any team will want to face them.

    Styles: And here comes Angel, rushing out to join her boys.

    DeAngelis: The winners of the match, and still TWO World Tag Team Champions..."The Hangman" Draven Cage and "The Real Deal" Apollo Chambers...AC/DCEEEEEEE!!!

    German metal fills the air as the champs hold their belts aloft. Angel steps in between them and raises their arms in triumph, Dawn's blood still dripping from her heel..a stark reminder of the ferocity encompassed in the defence of the straps.

    Styles: Where do they go from here? We still don't know who they'll be defending the titles against this Sunday at Genocide.

    Heyman: I can't see anyone wanting to take on the role of challengers after that.

    The champs and Angel leave the ring and head up the aisle. The blood still drips from their foreheads as the challengers are still unmoving inside the ring. For the third time tonight, the EMTs enter the arena to cart out an injured party.

    Styles: Well, we're sure to find out Holt's plans for the tag belts later on...
    Last edited: Jun 15, 2011
  7. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000
    TG: WOW! Last times number 2 has fallen quite a few spots.

    WEB: That means nothing against this man though, and only says more about the guys who are ahead of him.

    TG: Too true – I mean, to beat Gringo you know you’ve got something special because this man, in two words, IS TWOstars.

    WEB: More than anybody else he breathes, bleeds, lives this company and has only stopped wrestling to go and get married and attend to his sick family.

    TG: Which admittedly, we’re willing to forgive.

    WEB: He is a three time World Heavyweight champion, a Battle Royale winner, a Triple Crown championship winner, he became known as the ‘Iron Man’ for being able to wrestle hours – and rumoured weeks – on end, is a Hall of Famer, and has fought anybody who’s an anybody in the near seven years he’s been with us.

    TG: Picking out one match was tough, to put it lightly...

    WEB: But we did it, and I don’t want to say too much going in – and rather just let you enjoy it in its entirety.

    TWOstars – WrestleNova III
    (last man standing match)
    Evil Gringo VS Twiggie ​

    JS: At last we come to a match that has been brewing and simmering for some time... Gringo versus Twiggie in a Last Man Standing match and I for one hope that Twig beats the living hell out of Gringo...

    PH: Whys that Joey? Because he did what was necessary to ensure his legacy remains un-tampered? Because he softened up his opponent like all great champs should? It's like this, when Twiggie does these things it gets cheered but Gringo? Oh no, he gets booed, god there is no justice there is no justice...

    JS: Twiggie was driven to it Paul, Gringo and his Mamacita attacked him, he betrayed him, harassed him and MADE this personal...

    PH: Yeah, yeah, yeah... Tell you what, let’s have a recap of how these two men got to WrestleNova…

    TC: The following bout is a LAST MAN STANDING MATCH!!! The loser of this match will be the first man unable to answer the referees ten count.... Introducing first... From Rochdale, England, weighing in at two hundred and twenty five pounds… he is the Latino Demon… The EEEEVVIIILLLL GGGGRRRRIIIINGGGGOOOOO!

    The lights dim and the crowd buzz as Blackened the Cursed Sun by Lamb of God booms through the in house speakers....


    JS: Here he comes, that despicable Gringo...

    PH: Joey, shut up will you, it’s the biggest night of the wrestling year and all you wanna do is point fingers and call people names, sheesh...

    Brooding dark red and green lights flash and spiral around the ramp and ring whilst pyro explodes all around the tron and at the front of the stage as the Evil Gringo emerges from the back, eyes full of rage, ready for war with his Mamacita, Becki standing proudly behind her man...

    JS: …will you listen to that… despite being back home in England these fans are crapping on their quote hometown hero end quote…

    PH: It’s because they are southern and much like the southern folk back home they wouldn’t know class if it kicked them in the groin…

    JS: Nice Paulie, way to maintain international relations…

    Gringo jaws with the fans, flipping them off and ignoring their boo's and jeers until he reaches halfway down... He stops in the middle of the ramp way and begins to run his thumb across his throat... As he reaches the end he jerks his thumb away and down sharply causing a loud pyro to go off causing what looks like a wall of flame is in front of him and the ring...

    PH: Gringo here looks like he is all business… and is coming our way…

    Gringo paces round the ring with Mamacita in tow, stopping before the Spanish Announce table…

    JS: Looks like Mamacita is going to provide our Spanish viewers a few insights into tonight’s match… or maybe how to double cross someone…

    PH: You know they Joey they have a drink in this part of the world called Bitter, I think you’d like it…

    Becki is sat with Hugo Sanchez and Carlos Valderama, the star Spanish announce team and begins to jitter away in the second tongue of her betrothed as he slips into the ring and jumps onto the turnbuckles to the deafening boo’s of a sold out Wembley as Lamb of God fade out…

    TC: And his opponent… From Nederland, Colorado, weighing it at one hundred and ninety seven pounds, he is the Unofficial Hardcore champion of TWOStars…. TTTTTWWWWWIIIIIIIIGGGGGGGIIIIIIEEEEEEE!

    The arena is bathed in blue, green, and purple psychedelic swirls, as Room Full of Mirrors, by Jimi Hendrix is pumped through the speakers of the arena. Twiggie's entrance video is played on the TWOtron.


    Once Jimi’s excessive introductory solo is finished, green, blue, purple, and white pyros explode into the air from along the ramp, while also raining down from atop the TWOtron. Twiggie appears at the top of the ramp to loud cheers from the crowd, around his head, loosely restraining his dreads, is tied his lucky faded bandana. He smirks, leans back, and soaks in the cheers, motioning with both arms for more love from the TWO faithful.

    The Colorado Troubadour strolls casually to down the aisle, nodding and smiling to his cheering fans. Each step taken is in time to the music. He pauses to ‘air guitar’ an especially funky portion of his theme song before carrying on down the aisle.

    JS: Here he is, the Dreaded Deadhead himself. He’s proved time and time again that he is not afraid to risk his own body to take you out and a man I believe perfect for this match…

    PH: Oh, spare me! He’s no different then a trained monkey, or better yet Jack Evans, are you telling me just because he doesn’t have the sense to stay like a good dog that Gringo won’t make him?

    JS: Don’t forget that the Colorado Troubadour is also well versed in several intricate submission holds, and can hang you upside down in a split second with the Rhythm Devil’s Hold, or The Squirming Coil! He can knock out and stretch you out, something Gringo may well find his future tonight her at WrestleNova…

    T. Wiggins slides into the ring on his stomach, starts to roll forward, but suddenly handsprings up off the mat landing on his feet. The acrobatic display renews the pop from the already cheering crowd. The Hardcore Hippy moves to a corner and takes a casual position, resting on the top rope with his feet up as his music fades out, the lights achieve normality, and he awaits Gringo’s return to the ring, the Latino Demon having slipped out as the Dire Wolf had slipped in…

    PH: Gringo here is showing the valuable lesson he has learned in the past few months… Be cautious, be aware and do not rush in…

    JS: …also know as being a chicken…

    The two men pace each other as the bell rings and suddenly they burst into life…

    JS: Twiggie with an elbow, Gringo with a forearm of his own as the two go to toe here…

    Gringo with his heavier set frame lands his shots harder and forces Twiggie back… Twiggie however flicks his hair and sends a dread into the eyes of the Latino Demon before trying to level him with a Gamergiri…

    PH: Ha, even with one eye Gringo saw that coming…

    Gringo is quick to attack and sends Twiggie out onto the apron with the force of a…

    PH: GringoKick! The action has started fast and furious here…

    Twiggie is standing on the apron, his clock a tiny bit cleaned from Gringo’s assault and isn’t surprised when he finds Gringo on the outside of the ring with him, the two men exchanging blows…

    JS: Twiggie getting a little more of the advantage here now on the apron… he has Gringo rocked with that last elbow shot…

    The Latino Demon takes a staggered step back and the Dire Wolf launches with his first hard hitter of the evening…


    PH: That god damn crazy hippie… he just nearly killed himself and Gringo!

    We cut to a replay as Twiggie launches into the air and spins around Gringo send them both off the apron with a suicidal head scissors that sends Gringo especially to the floor with a dull thud…


    JS: Something tells me this isn’t going to be the last time these men try and take each other out like that tonight…

    PH: Something tells me that Twiggie might just pay for that as well…

    The Dire Wolf rises, testing his neck as the referee had reached a three count and Gringo has rolled around holding his ribs. Twig, always one to spot a weakness kicks Gringo into the security barrier before hauling him to his feet…

    JS: It seems Twiggie has caught the upperhand here and has evil intentions for that little betraying Mexican…

    PH: You just never let anything go do you?

    Twiggie has lifted the Gringo over the barrier, his upper back dangling into the ringside area, his legs kicking idly in the crowd… and the Dire Wolf is up on the apron…

    JS: Looks like Twiggie is about to fly…

    And fly he does, The PETA Punisher running along the apron, hurling himself off and flipping through the air, crashing onto the Gringo and landing hard on the Latino Demons spine to a monstrous pop from the crowd…

    JS: Gringo just got crushed by Twiggie… what a move there…

    PH: Flip, flop and fly is not going to get Twiggie the win here… I mean with every jump and flip and move like THAT he will tire and the more he tires the more chance that Gringo, the bigger and stronger athlete will take home the win…

    Gringo is in the crowd now, holding his ribs and grimacing whilst Twiggie climbed over the barrier to the cheers of his people, glad to be near the Phishy Dreadhead…

    JS: This is about to get ugly…

    PH: I know, have you seen some of these southern hicks?

    JS: It’s not like Alabama you know…

    PH: Wait till Bob Holly hears you said that!

    Gringo is rising as Twiggie comes towards him and nails him with an elbow to the gut that staggers the Dreadhead back a few steps and to which he responds with a boot to the head…

    JS: These men brawling amongst the populace here… and let me remind you that a Last Man Standing match not need be won in the ring…

    PH: God, need you insult mine AND the viewers intelligence… they have seen them, they may have even taken part in one AND Joey… they may even know how to pronounce certain moves better then you…

    Whilst the former ECW-alumni are bickering over Joey’s continued inability to pronounce a certain luchadore move that way or may not be a favourite of Rey Mysterio Twiggie has taken over on the Mexican Sensation and hurled over the barrier back to ringside with a thud…

    JS: Back into the action and it seems that when he doesn’t have a broad acting from behind and backstabbing people then he is trouble…

    PH: Again with not letting things go… jeez Joey…

    JS: Twiggie now rolling Gringo onto the apron…

    PH: …and so quick to change the subject…

    The Dire Wolf sets himself once more on the apron, once more looking down on the fallen Gringo with no doubt once more evil intentions…

    JS: Twiggie looking to launch into the air again…

    PH: But oh no… he crashes and burns, just like I said he would…

    Twiggie hurled himself up once more, looking a somersault leg drop on the apron but at the last second Gringo moves and the PETA Punisher crashes hard…

    PH: Look at that Joey, Twiggie stranded and hurt and Gringo about to move in for the kill… because of…

    JS: Stop gloating…

    PH: Because he went high risk! It was the same problem Gringo used to have, it was the reason the crowd loved him and now it’s the very reason Twiggie is failing now, he cares about people and what they think…

    Gringo is indeed fit and well, apart from a slight bit of winding that means he is sucking in air on one knee as Twiggie hold his thigh with a grimace… He glares over at the Phishy Dreadhead with one aim in mind… to inflict pain…

    JS: Twiggie is just rising now but Gringo it seems loves that apron…

    Gringo is back out there, springing over the ropes and catches Twig with a surprising roundhouse as he looks to re-enter the ring…

    PH: Gringo it seems wants a little payback…

    Twiggie almost staggers off but rights his balance only to be caught by Gringo, who hooks him looking for a suplex…

    JS: Twiggie is a bad way right now but he is trying to fight off Latino deadbeat… but Gringo is persistent…

    Gringo lifts his head for a second and peppers Twiggie’s ribs with lefts to soften him up… Twiggie ducks a little, winded and is prime position as Gringo hooks him and quickly scoops him up…

    PH: Falcon Arrow! Damn! Gringo just dropped that damn hippy straight south! We’ve gotta see a replay!


    The replay rolls and we see Gringo haul Twiggie up and twist him round in mid-air as he launches off the apron and down to the floor at ringside with a massive thud as the crowd, hateful though they are applaud in awe…

    JS: My gawd, the wind is taken straight from Twiggie and both men are down as the referee, Charles Robinson begins to count them both down…


    PH: An eye for an eye there Joey, Twiggie takes him off the apron, Gringo takes him down… Twiggie tries to steal his spotlight then Gring well he goes and he takes it right damn back, just like that…




    PH: What? You know that this is true, you’ve seen them both come off the apron!


    JS: That’s not what I was bothered about and you know it… But either way that son of a bit…

    PH: Joey… the children…

    JS: Well Gringo is getting up…

    The referee is still counting for the winded Twiggie who has rolled over, clutching his neck as well from the fall…


    PH: Gringo is not done yet though as he looks to send this ungrateful puppy loving hippy, back inside and to inflict more pain on him…

    JS: He could just leave right there, I mean as much as it pains me that is how you win a match of this kind…
    PH: Well that’s right if you are Twiggie, I mean he asked for this match… Gringo just wanted to kick his ass…

    Twiggie is up to one knee in the ring but Gringo just runs through him with a big left roundhouse to the noggin, sending the Dreaded Dreadhead down to the mat… Quick to capitalise he scales to the top rope as the Twig lies on the floor in a world of pain…

    JS: …and speaking of that ass he is perched on that top rope… a little bit of a camp manner I might add…

    PH: It’s just a Latino quirk… but Twiggie isn’t moving and Gringo is looking to launch… MEXICAN EAGLE…


    We cut to replay as Gringo launches and plants both his feet… into Twiggie’s neck and shoulders and the Dire Wolf had rolled over and tried to his bearings…

    JS: Gringo it seems is zeroing on that neck, an area that the medical staff did have some concern over…

    PH: Because Gringo kicked his ass, just like now…

    Gringo tests his knees and ankle after taking the brunt of the shock and looks down with a look of sly happiness as Twig writhes on the floor holding his neck as Robinson once more counts him down…


    JS: Twiggie at disadvantage now, his neck must be killing him, I mean two hundred plus pounds right in the neck…


    PH: …and the award for the most obvious statement ever goes to…


    JS: Wait the hell is Gringo doing…

    PH: Like I said he didn’t come to let Twiggie take a nap on the mat, he came to beat him completely… he came to finish this…


    Gringo ascends once more to the top, poised to leap and inflict one more bout of pain on his foe, who slowly is making his way the ropes, hoping their added leverage will aid him to reach his feet…


    Twiggie reaches the ropes and begins to pull himself up… he reaches near a vertical base and spies out of the corner of his eye the sight of the Latino Demon ready and primed on the top…

    PH: NO!

    JS: Ha! Twiggie just crotched the Gringo… he just pushed the ropes and that poor little Pingu just landed hard on his giblets…

    Twiggie quickly staggers over and leaps into the air smacking Gringo on the side of the head with a vicious gamengiri…

    JS: …and that’s a knock out blow right there… but the Dire Wolf is not done… he goes up to meet Gringo right up top…

    Twiggie reaches the top and looks Gringo with his arm, holding on the Latino Demon’s own, the Twig facing with his back to the mat, Gringo looking right down…


    The crowd pops as Twiggie launches backwards, bringing Gringo’s his eyes widened in fear down towards the hard and unforgiving mat...

    JS: Weekapaug Groove by the Twiggster… Gringo is down and damn what a rough few minutes he just went through… first his crotch and now his face…

    PH: Now whose gloating…

    JS: Nonsense, just saying, couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy…

    Robison is once more counting as both men are down, Twiggie feeling his neck after taking some of that impact on his spine, Gringo down because, well his face just smacked into the canvas like a freight train…


    JS: Both men down here and hurting… these men finding out the real pain that goes with this kind of match…


    PH: But Twiggie is not fighting smart… I mean look at him, goes into the match with a bum neck, lets his opponent take advantage it by flipping about and playing to the fans and then injures it himself…


    JS: But the man has so much heart, look at him even now he is working through the pain, trying to get up so he can that dirty chico’s ass some more… for himself and for the fan who he betrayed!


    Twiggie is up and looks down as Gringo is struggling, he is up to an elbow and is shaking his head, hoping to clear the cobwebs put in there, first by Twiggie’s foot and then by the Dreadhead smashing his face into the mat…


    JS: The Dire Wolf sees that Gringo is about to get up and is looking to take action… he wants to keep him down…

    Twiggie runs to the corner and flips over… he rolls over on the mat in a silky forward motion and then up into the air, flipping gracefully and landing hard…

    JS: Geulah Papyrus!

    PH: Oh please… like that little flippy, floppy little move is going to keep down the champion of champions…

    JS: Look at him Paul, tell me that he isn’t hurting…

    Twiggie is not done a look of sadism on his face as now he wants to inflict the pain… he grabs a hold of the Gringo’s untidy spiky mop and hauls him up to a vertical base…

    JS: …and it seems Twig doesn’t want it to end here either…

    The PETA Punisher has a limp Gringo up to a vertical base and is behind him… he looks at the crowd and runs his thumb across his throat mocking the fallen Sensation…

    PH: No… he wouldn’t… he couldn’t…

    Twiggie ducks underneath and lifts the Gring on his shoulders… he reaches up and grabs the Gringo’s arms and crosses them across his chest…

    JS: Twiggie about to take his pain out on Gringo with some Shock Therapy…

    PH: No… he won’t… Gringo! Fight it you stupid son of a…

    Twiggie jumps and pulls Gringo over, slightly to the side as he takes the Latino down with a modified Shock Therapy, snapping him over so that his head smashed into the mat to the side rather then sat out… Gringo hits hard, his head and neck jarring into the mat as the crowd go mad…

    JS: Oh he did… Twiggie just took the Gringo’s own move and looks to have knocked him clean out on his ass!


    Robinson is counting down, Twiggie has rolled off to the side and Gringo, and well Gringo might just be taking a big long nap in la la land…


    PH: He can’t go out like this… not like this…


    JS: You reap what you sow Paulie and now Gringo is reaping a defeat for the second Nova in a row…

    PH: He’ll get up, you’ll see…


    Twiggie is leading the crowd on in counting along with the Lil’ Nature Boy as Gringo is prostrate on the mat…


    JS: He’s not moving, he is done Paulie, look at him… Twiggie soaked it up, he’s taken the beatings and through his heart and courage he is going to take the scalp of that betraying worm right here on the biggest pay-per-view of the year!


    PH: No! No! NO!


    JS: Becki seems to be on the move… she’s got a chair… oh for god’s sake!


    The Mamacita of the Gringo is up on the apron with a chair in hand… Twiggie hasn’t seen her, such is his joy in counting along… but Robinson has and he has stopped to try and remove her from…

    JS: Oh come on, why do all referee’s do that!

    PH: It’s a reflex, dog’s chase things, cats try and catch fish and referee’s have to talk to people on the apron, it’s bred into them… like the ears in Spaniels…

    The crowd begin to boo and Twiggie realises something is wrong… Gringo is onto his knees, but the count would have beaten him had it not been for the interjection of his women…

    JS: What a load of crap… he was beaten… BEATEN!

    PH: Hey what the hell is Twiggie doing!?!?!

    Twig has hold of Becki, having shoved Robinson aside for his incompetence in the field of mathematics and is looking to take out some of his frustration on the harlot… well he would have if not for…

    JS: She hit with a chair, that dirty low down ho!

    PH: That is what you get for putting your hands on the Gringo’s lady… remember what she did to Ted DiBaisie? Bam! Same for Twiggie!

    The Dire Wolf reels from the shot as Becki clambers down from the apron… she slides the chair in and looks on as Gringo is up, unsteady but ready as Twiggie turns…

    JS: Gringo has Twiggie clasped here… elbow him, fight it…

    PH: Gringo looks like he’s looking for the ‘Lock whilst standing…

    Gringo hooks the arms and neck of Twiggie in the beginnings of the GringoLock… he stands to the side and leaps into the air, driving the PETA Punisher down into the mat before completing the lock, trapping him in the middle of the ring…

    PH: Oh it’s gotta be over now… please let me see a replay of that one…


    The Dire Wolf is slammed down and is trapped by the Latino Demon in the very move that has led him to so much personal success as outside the ring Becki is looking for more furniture, sliding in another folding chair.

    JS: Gringo cranking in the GringoLock on the already softened neck of the Hardcore Hippie… but look at him fighting it…

    PH: It makes no use Joey… there are no rope breaks and poor little old Twiggie is trapped… dead centre, nowhere to go…

    JS: …and don’t you just love it…

    The South Western Spreadhead is frantically trying to turn the move over… under… anywhere but Gringo has it locked in perfect and is using his extra leverage to crank it more and more and anchors the smaller Dreadhead right where he wants him…

    PH: Twiggie beginning to fade here…

    Indeed the Dire Wolf is as the Latino Demon cracks his smile minus a tooth, wrenching away further and more and more harshly as Twiggie begins to become more and more lifeless…

    JS: The referee would normally stop the match at this point but he can’t, his hands are tied….

    PH: Hell yeah Joey, there is no way that little Dirty Hippie is gonna squirm out of this one… Gringo is gonna wrench his head off and leave his carcass on the mat for the full ten… wait and see…

    The crowd are trying to get behind a now lifeless Twiggie as Gringo wrenches once more on the hold… before releasing leaving the Dire Wolf’s limp frame flat on the mat, urging the referee to count him down…





    JS: Twiggie isn’t moving…


    PH: This is it Joey, the move that has claimed all but a few of the top superstars in this business is about to take another victim…


    Twiggie begins to stir as a leg moves on the mat… circling around, almost in a slow-mo scramble for purchase…


    Twiggie has rolled over, a glazed look in his eyes, instinct taking over as Gringo pulls at his spiky hair in distress and the on looking crowd are going ape…

    JS: He is nearly up… Twiggie lives!


    The Dire Wolf in on one knee, his step unsteady but he is looking to rise once more…


    PH: Gringo has Twiggie reeling from that prolonged stay in the GringoLock…

    JS: But look Paulie… the Dire Wolf just will not stay down… he’s been hit with his own finisher… he’s been nailed with chairs and tossed through stairs but still he will not lie down for that *******!

    The Latino Demon has other plans though… Twiggie rises just after the eight count, his eyes glazed and his face reddened from his straining spell in the GringoLock… Angered the former Sensation runs his thumb across his neck and begins to unleash his fury on the unrecognised Hardcore Champion of TWOStars as he decks him with a left roundhouse to the back of the head… then a right legged version, but still he is not finished unloading on the staggered Dread Head…

    PH: Gringo is looking to slap the lips right off of Twiggie’s ugly god damn face!

    JS: One palm strike, another, a third… now a fourth…

    PH: …the spinning chop as well, right into that battered neck… you know what this means…

    Gringo launches off the ropes, his aim on one target alone… he launches into the air, his left knee out stretched and pointing right at its destination… Twiggie’s face…

    PH: CAP IT OFF! Gringo just knocked Twiggie through a loop with that one!

    We cut to a split screen replay as Gringo is down catching his breath and by the look on his eyes he is not finished yet…


    JS: The ref is counting but Gringo is up and is looking right at Twiggie… what the hell has this sicko got planned now?!??!

    Gringo grabs the long dreads of the fallen and dazed Dire Wolf and hauls him up… he stands behind him and places his own head between the legs of Twiggie and with a grunt lifts up onto his shoulders in the electric chair position…

    PH: I think I know Joey, a practice outlawed in the 1970’s, a move Twiggie tried to steal and win with tonight…

    Gringo grabs both the arms of the Colorado Troubador and crosses them across the chest of his foe…. He looks at the crowd with a steely glare in his eyes before crying out in anger, jumping in the air, flipping Twiggie over in the process…


    The crowd boo as Twiggie lands sickeningly on his neck and head in an implanted position and Gringo, smug in his work rolls back leaving the twisted wreckage of the fallen Dire one on the mat…

    JS: Damn that son of a bitch… Twiggie has taken a hell of a lot of punishment on that neck of his and now this…

    PH: This could be it Joey, the referee is counting that dirty hippie down!




    Gringo saunters over to the corner wearly and rests back, with every count he nods his head along like a human metal-head calculator…




    JS: The crowd trying to raise their beloved Twiggie to his feet… but can the upset kid come back on more time…


    Twiggie’s arms and legs begin to twitch, some signs of life seemingly still apparent in his once almost lifeless form…


    Twiggie’s arm is now planted on the canvas, his head raised as it seems the Dire Wolf is ready to make on last push for survival…

    PH: NO! He can’t, HE CAN’T!

    JS: He is going to get up, after all this, after all he has been through, and that man is going to get up! What heart, what bravery…


    Twiggie is up to one knee as the crowd are going absolutely bat sh*t, everyone is standing and hollering inside Wembley, from the front, all the way to the cheap seats as Gringo shakes in rage…


    JS: That son of a bit….

    PH: Gringo with the Shining Wizard! Hahahaha!

    Gringo can be seen mouthing “Muto who?” through various foul mouthed words as Twiggie slumps down to the outside from the force of another knee to he head from the Latino Demon… Boo’s echo around the new home of English football as Gringo motions maybe it’s time to break out some toys if he is to win…

    JS: Gringo also on the outside now as Twiggie is down by the ring post here… the referee is trying to get Gringo into the ring so he can count but that sick ass Gringo wants no part of it…

    Gringo flips off the ref as he rummages under the ring apron and curtain… he pauses for a moment before pulling out some glass tubes and slides them into the ring as the crowd boo’s and lets out a slight sigh of anticipation at the same time…

    PH: Oh dear… I think Gringo has decided it is time for Twiggie to die…

    Not finished Gringo pulls out another toy… the barbed wire board…


    JS: What the hell has he got planned!

    PH: Pain, large, un-advised doses of pain… I think Gringo has finally, well and truly snapped…

    Meanwhile Twiggie has groggily grabbed a hold of the ring post and has righted himself, although a little unsure on his feet…

    JS: Twiggie is up and this may have just entered his favourite area EVEN more…

    PH: For the last time Joey, that man right there, the Evil Gringo has won a last man standing match for the TWOStars Heavyweight Championship… the WORLD title and god damn it Joey he was an undefeated Hardcore Champion in RCW…

    JS: Yeah and I would still pick that man right there, the Dire Wolf, Twiggie to kick his ass, even from here, even now!

    Gringo has meanwhile set up the two chairs in seating positions facing each other and has fed the tubes underneath… he grabs the board, careful not to snag himself and places it over the construction as the crowd looks on in awe at just what might occur…

    PH: Gringo has built a structure of death!

    JS: But Twiggie is back in the ring!

    The crowd go mental as Twiggie launches dread-whip, after dread-whip at the Latino Demon, his care for his neck gone as he fights to gain that one last opening that may land him victory…


    Gringo reels back from the blows caused by the glass beads laced into the deadly dreads of the Dire Wolf and Twiggie bounces off the ropes, looking to launch a strike that will open this up further… He leaps…

    PH: Gringo has him scouted… he has him on the shoulders…

    The Hardcore Hippie is balanced across the shoulders of the former Sensation and is fighting frantically as the two are with a hairs width of the metal, wire and glass death zone built by Gringo…

    JS: These two men are on the brink here… Gringo could drop him at any time but Twiggie is fighting it…

    The Dire Wolf manages to squirm around in the fireman’s carry and is now looking up at the roof of the arena as the crowd are hushed, unsure of what to expect next…

    PH: OH MY GOD! Gringo just FLIPPED Twiggie into a RKO from the torture rack! We have to see a replay!

    The crowd are almost spent, they thought for a second the move would propel the Dire Wolf through the wood, wire et all to his doom but he falls short as the replay comes on the screen…

    PH: Twiggie thinks he is getting out as he wriggles but Gringo sense this and WHAM! Flips him off the rack and right into an RKO! What innovation from the Demon!

    Gringo senses this time the end is near and the as the crowd boo and hiss him he points to the death zone he has created in the corner of the ring…
    JS: Come on Twiggie… fight it… don’t let him…


    Gringo hauls the fallen idol of the TWOStars faithful to his dazed and almost unconscious feet and places him on the wire board, the wood creaking under the weight as Gringo pushes him down onto the barbs, the steel piercing the Dire Wolf’s flesh and making him flail in pain…

    JS: Gringo is torturing Twiggie here!

    PH: Ha! The dumb hippie doesn’t realise that the move he squirms the tighter he is wrapped in the wires rather special embrace…

    Twiggie is trapped, his arm is entangled and bleeding, his dreads locked into the wire keeping him from moving his head to see just where to untangle his flesh from the steel… Gringo meanwhile has gone up top as the crowd go hushed at what they are about to see…

    JS: Twiggie is bleeding like a stuffed pig here, ref stop the damn match, stop this, he can’t get out of the wire!

    PH: Gringo looks like he’s going to help Joey… look…

    Gringo is now perched on the top rope, his brow heavy with sweat but a sly grin set on his face as he looks down at his enemy, trapped, helpless, in prime position as he leaps in the air…




    We cut a replay as the ref stands with a look of abject concern and worry on his face of the fallen and twitching bodies of both Gringo and Twiggie, the Dire Wolf stabbed with glass from the tubes and still wrapped in the wire, cutting him in hundreds of places…

    JS: That sicko Demon had Twiggie lodged in the wire and was on the top rope laughing at him…

    PH: …then he decides to launch himself into the air with a modified Death Star Press… WHAM!

    On the screen we see Gringo go round for the Shooting Star at great speed and then over rotate so that he crashes with all his weight onto Twiggie’s chest and head, causing the whole construction of man, wire, wood, steel and glass to collapse with a sickening crunch, the tubes scattering dust and shivers of glass everywhere as the two men lay battered and bloody…

    JS: Both men lie battered and beaten here as the referee makes what could be the final count…


    Gringo is rolling off the glass, his arms and some of his back bleeding like his head … Twiggie next to him is a complete mass of claret…


    JS: Twiggie isn’t moving after taking the brunt of the blow to his head and neck…

    PH: That has to be the final nail in that insane damn hophead’s coffin… Come on Gringo, GET UP!


    Gringo is now on his front, the barbed wire that had stuck in his back peeling away as he reaches out to the ropes… Twiggie meanwhile has yet to move at all, the blood pouring from almost everywhere…


    PH: Gringo is inching over to the ropes… his body is in pain but his pride is intact… which is more then can be said for poor old Twiggie over there…

    JS: Come on Twiggie! Show us a bit of life, something come on!


    Gringo clutches onto the bottom ropes and tries to get his legs pumping as on the floor to cries of hope and delight from the stunned audience the Dire Wolf begins to twitch a leg…


    PH: That’s it Gring, almost there… one rope at a time…

    JS: There is still life in Twiggie!!! He is stirring!!!


    Gringo is now onto the second rope, but still down on one knee as the crowd begin to reach fever pitch… can Twiggie get up? Will Gringo fall back down… will Paul Heyman and Hogan sign a treaty and admit they are both bald?


    JS: Twiggie is trying to get up… he is arching his back! He has raised his head!

    PH: But Gringo is almost there… he has both feet planted… he is going to rise above that dirty hippie once and for all!


    Gringo manages with a final burst of energy to haul himself up and flop into the corner, the turnbuckles supporting his weight and keeping him upright….

    JS: Come one Twiggie… just a little further… get those elbows going… GET UP!

    PH: It’s gotta be over….


    JS: That’s it, rise you damn hippy!

    Twiggie is upright but not vertical, the blood pouring from every angle, coating the mat and glass in a thick layer of red smears…


    Twiggie tries to roll over, trying to get his bearings… trying desperately to get onto his feet….



    JS: My god no, what an effort, what a display of heart…

    PH: What courage from the Gringo…

    JS: What no… god damn him, you and bloody barbed wire!


    Blackened the Cursed Sun hits the PA with a vengeance once more as Lil Naitch goes over and raises the hand of the Latino Demon who is exhaustedly slumped in the corner surveying the carnage as Twiggie lies on his front, beating the mat in bloody frustration…

    PH: In the end it was the undefeated Hardcore champion of RCW, the greatest TWOStars champion of all time and the man you fear, The Evil Gringo who tonight at WrestleNova took it all the way to the wire and back again…

    JS: I ain’t taking anything away from Twiggie… he was outgunned in height, weight and he wrestled with a god damn injured neck and he STILL nearly took out that son of a bi…

    PH: But alas it is the man who started this all that finished it all… He did what he said he would do and that is killing Twiggie at WrestleNova and be the last man standing… Mission Accomplished Gringo… come on Joey applaud him!

    Heyman breaks into clapping as Gringo rolls unsteadily from the ring and into the arms of his Mamacita as EMT’s and agents come from the back to aid the fallen and distraught Twiggie as well cut to Holt walking the backstage area and leaving the building.
  8. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000
    WEB: Eek... I can’t believe it.

    TG: Last times number two has gone, and now our number one is up as well...

    WEB: This has completely and utterly thrown the results out the window.

    TG: Now, let’s not get too carried away just now and instead focus on the man in hand.

    WEB: But... but... but...

    TG: We’ve given everybody else their moment.

    WEB: But I really wanna start guessing.

    TG: It’s going to have to wait, because the match we’re showing for this Hall of Famer is an absolute doozy.

    WEB: Boyo needs no introduction – he’s one of the greatest technical wrestlers to ever grace our ring. He started life as a manger to Sickness, eventually stepped into the ring as his tag partner and then found success in singles competition before being retired...

    TG: ... more times than we like to mention.

    WEB: Exactly! And finally had a short run with his son, The Great Ken, before finally stepping away forever.

    TG: Well, until the bank balance starts running a little low again.

    WEB: Admittedly, for some younger fans, his numerous returns might be what he’s best remembered for, and unfortunately this match tonight isn’t going to change that.

    TG: We’re in 2008 and The Dark Alliance had come back together as a special Christmas gift to face off against the terrifying team of Arron Winter and Edward Samson.

    WEB: Let’s just say that by the end of this match even The Grinch would be ashamed of what happens...

    TWOstars – Season’s Beatings 2008
    The Dark Alliance VS Edward Samson & Arron Winter​

    Cuts to a shot of the ring where “Part of the Friction” by Sikth kicks in and the crowd erupt in boos.

    Styles: This one, Paul E…wow! This one’s got the makings of a classic!

    Heyman: You’ve got that right, Joey!

    Styles: Tonight arguably the greatest tag team in the history of TWOStars is back in action!

    Heyman: …

    Styles: What?

    Heyman: Winter’s here, but the rest of The New Blood AIN’T!

    Styles: What a crock, I wasn’t talking about The New Blood.

    Heyman: They were more of a faction, anyway :p.

    Styles: Oh, brother.

    Heyman: :lol:


    Chimmo: The following match is a tag-team match and is scheduled for one-fall and is for The TWOStars Tag team Championship!

    The crowd pop for this!

    Styles: That’s right, Paul; the Tag Team Titles, currently be held by The Dark Alliance, but in the form of Sickness and Twiggie, are up for grabs -

    Heyman: Perhaps this title is the most prestigious amongst this federation now, Styles? I mean, you hardly ever see these belts, and when you do, it’s always for a huge match!

    Styles: Well Boyo is a two-time Tag Team Champion with Sickness, and Sickness is a four-time Tag Team Champion - twice with Boyo as The Dark Alliance, once with Twiggie, also as The Dark Alliance, and once with Jaycey Baby as The Flaming Dark.

    Chimmo: Introducing first, making his way down to the ring, hailing from Bristol in England by way of Tallinn, Estonia…

    Styles: Now those are some air-miles!

    Heyman: Shhh! I want to hear who he’s talking about!

    Styles: :rolleyes2:

    Chimmo: …Weighing in at 265lbs, he is The Omega Male…ARRONNNN…WINNNNNTERRRR!!!

    Heyman: Yeah, I knew it was going to be him.

    Winter emerges from behind the curtain to a cacophony of booing, but this doesn’t seem to affect Frostbite in any way. He meanders down to the ring with an icy cold glare in his eyes and gets to the ring-steps, where he just stares at the ring, and the surveys the crowd, and then looks at the ring again.

    Styles: Arron Winter looking confident, and well he should because this man is a tag-team specialist, Paul!

    Heyman: That’s right, Joey. Not only that; Winter is one of the finest exponents of tag team wrestling ever seen in TWOStars! He was integral to The New Blood.

    Styles: You could say, that in a huge dollop of irony, tonight’s (ahem!) weakest link, could - could - be his partner, the Triple Crown champion, Edward Samson?

    Heyman: Ach, piffle, Styles!! I’ll tell you who the weakest link is, shall I? Seeing as you are so - how can I put it? - dim-witted!

    Styles: What!?

    Heyman: Joey Styles that last call you made was a master class in dimwittery! You sir, are a buffoon if you think Edward Samson - Eddie to his friends…

    Styles: So you’ll be calling him “Edward” then…

    Heyman: -

    Styles: …

    Heyman: Shut your damned face, Styles! I’ll call him whatever the damned hell I want!

    Styles: OK.

    Heyman: Anyway, you’re a knucklehead for thinking that Edward Samson is going to be the weakest link in this match!

    Arron Winter ascends the steps and ducks down, stepping into the ring under the bottom rope. He doesn’t gesture much to the crowd, he just waits for his tag team partner to arrive. “Part of the Friction” fades out and there is a small period of silence.

    And then the place is filled with loud booing as Lucas Thorp arrives on stage, wielding a microphone. Lucas is looking stern, and rather full of himself.

    Styles: Oh, here is. Who’s he gonna rag on now?

    Heyman: Save, Styles. Who’s he gonna save?

    Styles: He’s a despicable man, Paul. Horrid.

    The crowd’s booing slowly dies down as Thorp considers his words and surveys all around him…until his eyes come to rest on Arron Winter.

    Styles: What a dork.

    Thorp inhales through his nose noisily, so the mic picks it up, and then exhales through his mouth…long, hard and true.

    Thorp: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. My my my, how my work never ends. (Thorp chuckles to himself slightly). Such an evening. Such work to be done.

    The crowd start their booing, and a few audible “shut up, ass-hole!” can be heard coming from various parts of the crowd, no doubt from the fattest fans. Arron Winter is looking at Thorp, unimpressed.

    Thorp: From my vantage point, I see an entire sea of souls in need of redemption. I see an unacceptable amount of people who have been led astray by sinful, impure lifestyles, and who need - crave - order in their lives.

    I can offer them that order.

    Thorp smiles smugly and the crowd erupt in to booing again.

    Styles: Oh, he feels he is some sort of what? Some kind of messenger? He makes me sick!

    Thorp: No one said that the path to redemption will be easy. Oh no. It will be hard, you’ll have to be dedicated, disciplined, and self-critical. Take Sickness…

    The crowd cheers at the mention of The Mini Monster.

    Thorp: No, don’t cheer for this man.

    Crowd: Sickness! Sickness! Sickness! Etc…

    Thorp: I said don’t cheer for him!!

    Styles: You can’t tell these people what to do!

    Thorp: A wandering soul who is in desperate, dire need to get his life back on the straight and narrow. A man whose efforts and record in this industry proves that he has the willpower and bottle, but a man who ultimately has chosen a lifestyle of the weak!

    Crowd Boooooo!

    Thorp: Here is a man…here is a man who until he got in the ring with Edward Samson did not know the meaning of the word “quit”. Who never tapped out! Who would rather DIE than be shown to be weaker than another. Now look at him - wallowing in the bosom of another broken down, gluttonous old oaf…Boyo!

    The crowd e-to-the-rup-diddly-upts at the very mention of The Welsh Wonder!!

    Styles: Wow! Listen to the reception for Boyo!

    Crowd: Boyo! Boyo! Boyo! Boyo!

    Thorp: I don’t know why you people would possibly cheer for him. Why!? This is a man who cheats, pokes eyes, breaks rules and has a body that has been broken almost beyond repair that only highlights his own vanity that he’s stepping in to the ring with Edward Samson!

    Styles: Boyo is one of the legends of TWOStars and the ERE!!

    Thorp: What is it now? Broken arm? Dislocated shoulder joint, torn trapezius? The discs in his lower back are almost fused together after years of doing high impact moves when he doesn’t look after his own torso, and train it properly?

    Styles: What?

    Thorp: Yessss…he may have won a World Title but what was he doing when he reached the top, huh? Did he increase the level of training he received? No. Did he seek to purge sin from his lifestyle in order to remain pure in spirit? No. Instead he increased his portions. Drank more wine. Increased his portions. Slept with more women. Increased his portions. Lost all that he had.

    Six weeks later and Evil Gringo took his title. Two weeks after that Maquina de Lucha retired him for good. Then what?

    DID Boyo come to Lucas Thorp and say, “Lucas, what’s become of me? While I have been toiling in and out of the hospital, struggling to keep up with my recuperation program, you have masterminded and allowed Edward Samson to bulldoze his way to the Triple Crown! Can you teach me? Can you show me the way to ethical, physical and moral purification?”. No, he didn’t.

    Crowd: Booooooo!

    Thorp: Oh, boo yourself. Instead, what happened to Boyo? He became weak, un-alert, and ponderous as Edward Samson took his most cherished move - the Cloverleaf - and made it his own. And now where do Sickness and Boyo find themselves? About to be finished off, once and for all at the hands of Edward Samson!!

    The crowd boo and Arron Winter gives Thorp a look as if to say, “Edward Samson and….?”

    Thorp: Oh, don’t you worry, Winter, sir. Once I’ve purged TWOStars of The Dark Alliance, we’ll help you purify this floundering federation. You’ll thank us. Oh, you’ll thank us…

    “The Line Begins To Blur” by Nine Inch Nails kicks in as the crowd erupt in booing once more. Edward Samson appears on the stage, with the fruits of his toil (beautiful golden belts) slung over his shoulders.

    Chimmo: And his partner, hailing from Salem, Massachusetts, weighing in at 254lbs….he is the TWOStars Trrrrrrrrrrriple Crown Champion…Edward…Sammmmmson!!!

    Crowd: Boooo!

    Samson just stands on the stage, wearing his black leather executioner’s mask (among other things :p). At Thorp’s beck and call at all times, Samson begins to trudge to the ring.

    Styles: You can say what you want about the relationship, or the ethics of these guys Paul -

    Heyman: You certainly seem to have a lot to say…

    Styles: Yeah, I don’t like them one iota! However, all that animosity pales into insignificance when compared to one unquestionable fact…and that’s that Edward Samson is one frikkin’ SCARY dude!

    Heyman: Yeah he’s scary, Styles. But Samson is legit scary, he’s earned your fear!

    Styles: :lol:, true!

    Heyman: This man doesn’t need prosthetics, make-up, face-paint, or hype videos to ram it all down our throats that we should fear him. He doesn’t dress up as a super-hero, he doesn’t shoe-horn a mis-spelling of the word “fear” to form the name of his over-rated faction, he isn’t a raging homosexual -

    Styles: Something the wrestling community ALL fear…

    Heyman: Heh, no…Edward Samson is the real deal, the hot potato, the crisp salad, the Steinway piano, the chocolate advent calendar, the Wedgwood Crockery…you don’t get any better, or more ferocious than The Executioner!

    Samson and Thorp both get in to the ring and approach Winter. Winter and Samson just stare at each other - Winter seemingly unsure of exactly what to make of Big Eddie. Thorp is a one man hype machine! He’s prancing around the ring, demanding that people look at, fear, and respect his man Samson as a man they should aspire to become.

    Styles: …

    Heyman: …

    Styles: I’m sorry…did you say “the crisp salad”?

    Heyman: People don’t like nitpickers y’know, Joey.

    The veritable Nine Inch Nails fade out slowly and there is another moment of silence before the arena is plunged in to pitch black darkness before the TWOTron displays, upon a plain black background, in white gothic lettering…the words “DARK” and “ALLIANCE”, in that order. THE CROWD ERRRUPTS!!

    Styles: We’ve waited nearly two years for this moment, Paul, but they are back! THEY ARE BACK!! The Dark Alliance.

    Heyman: Oh, settle down, Joey!

    “Climbing Up The Walls” by Radiohead kicks in and the crowd cheer lots and lots, and very loudly, as Sickness and Boyo appear on the stage. Sickness is wearing his traditional blood-stained white t-shirt, denim shorts and big black boots. Boyo is wearing what Boyo always wears…mint green trunks, white boots and a white headband.

    Chim-Chimmeny: And their opponents, hailing from Cardigan in Wales and from Parts Unknown, at a combined weight of 451lbs…Boyo and Sickness….The Dark ALLLLLLLL-IANCE!

    The arena lights come back up a shade and The Dark Alliance make their way to the ring, Sickness always just a step or two behind Boyo…who has the biggest smirk on his face! Sickness is carrying both of the tag titles over his shoulder and hands them straight to the time-keeper, looking rather sullen.

    Styles: This is going to be a match for the ages, Paul!!

    Heyman: Oh, will you give it a rest, Joey? I know that this is the main event of the night and that we have an almost unquestioned duty to sound excited about our main events…but…c’mon, man.

    Styles: What?

    Heyman: Two years ago, yeah. Two years ago this would have been a fantastic prospect. Two years ago, Sickness was tearing up the tag-team division with Jaycey Baby, and Boyo was weeks away from winning the 2007 Battle Royale Rumble…Arron Winter was picking the bones from the ashes of The New Blood, and Lucas Thorp - no doubt - had just stumbled across a wayward young man.

    Styles: Oh, man, will you stop?

    Heyman: But now, what do we have here, Styles? OK, in Samson and Winter we have two of the biggest stars in TWOStars right now. We have the Triple Crown Champion and one of the single most dominant forces of nature in Edward Samson. We have Arron Winter who has risen like a phoenix from The New Blood to being GM of the federation.

    Styles: Yep, they’re good alright.

    Heyman: But in way of opposition, what do they have? They have a man in Sickness who until last month had never, ever tapped out. Now he has. His star has fallen. The final bit of moxy that Sickness had about him has disappeared. He’s a ghost in this federation now, Styles. Long forgotten. And Boyo? Pfft! He was retired, wasn’t he? He had a dislocated shoulder, a broken arm, a long period of no-show? A wrinkled old relic whose biggest weapon was his tip-top conditioning, on top of his wrestling brain.

    Styles: I’ll tell you what we have, Paul…we have the single greatest, most respected tag team of all time entering the ring, to the loudest reception I’ve heard in a long time. We have a man who has had a wrestling career spanning 18 years and only in the last 4 weeks has tapped out. We also have probably the single greatest submissions wrestler to step inside a wrestling ring. We have a man whose finishing move has retired Barry Gower, Dante Mueller, The Incredible Holt and Johnny Rockefeller; a man who has won the Battle Royale Rumble; and a man who has been World Heavyweight Champion!

    Heyman: Yeah, years ago!

    Styles: Class is class, Heyman. You don’t lose what Boyo and Sickness have got. Plus, you forget, that this is a tag-team match. Even if Sickness is short of confidence and Boyo is a bit rusty, they still have 16 years tag experience over these two.

    Heyman: True, they do.

    Styles: That will count for a hell of a lot when The Dark Alliance are trading quick tags and reading each other like a book. Look at Winter, he can’t read his tag team partner, and Samson? Well, I’m not sure he can read!

    Heyman: I’ll tell him you said that!

    Styles: Taxi!

    Heyman and Styles: :lol:

    The Dark Alliance get to the ring. Boyo hops nimbly up the ring steps, wipes his feet on the apron, and gets in to the ring. Sickness skulks underneath the bottom ropes. Both men raise their arms to the crowd who ROAR back.

    Styles: What ever we say about the Dark Alliance, Paul, it’s clear that these fans still love them.

    “Climbing Up The Walls” fades out slowly and the arena lights finally come back up to full brightness.


    Match underway.

    Sickness and Boyo seem to be discussing briefly who should start, and they agree that whoever starts for the other team will determine who starts for the Darkest of all Alliances.

    Styles: A battle of wits.

    Samson and Winter decide that it should be Winter who starts the match for the baddies, and therefore The Dark Alliance decide that Boyo should start for them.

    Styles: Interesting choice right there, Paul; I wonder why Boyo would rather face off against Winter than Samson?

    Heyman: And Winter seems to think it’s an interesting decision, too. Maybe he views Boyo as the weakest link in The Dark Alliance, and sees it as the easier ride?

    Styles: Maybe he’s conscious of the fact that Boyo also sees himself as the weakest link in The Dark Alliance, and so, by starting that match against Winter, now sees that The Dark Alliance see HIM as the weakest out of him and Samson!?

    Heyman: If I was Winter and had taken all of that in to consideration, then perhaps I would be mortally insulted, and wish to dish out some extreme vengeance on Boy to the O.

    Boyo and Winter lock up, collar and elbow.

    Styles: The ol’ C ‘n’ E from The Big Bad B on ol’ Frost E, eh, Paul E?

    Heyman: Wuzzuh..?

    Both men tussle for supremacy. Of course, the bigger, stronger, more Estonian Arron Winter gains the upper hand, forcing Boyo to the mat, on one knee. Boyo quickly attempts a counter; throwing Winter over his shoulder, but The Omega Male has that one scouted.

    Heyman: It’s going to take more than that to get the upper hand on Winter, Boyo!

    Styles: Perhaps Boyo’s ring-rustiness is coming through here. Don’t forget the last match he has was against Johnny “Spunk-Rocket” Rockefeller at Wrestlenova 4, a match which he was forced to retire.

    Heyman: That’s the thing, though, Joey…

    Styles: What is..?

    Heyman: I mean, he’s retired right?

    Styles: Right.

    Heyman: And yet, he’s - forgive my ignorance - wrestling right now, in a professional capacity?

    Styles: Hm.

    Heyman: …

    Styles: …

    Heyman: What’s that about, eh?

    Styles; That’s wrestling is what it is, Paul! Don’t forget Boyo retired Barry Gower just after Wrestlenova 3 and straight after that, Barry was back, winning title after title.

    Heyman: Yeah, but that’s…

    Styles: And, don’t forget,…the week before Wrestlenova 4, Boyo retired Johnny Rockefeller…only for J-Rock to return the very next week at Nova and retire him!

    Heyman: Yeah, but J-Rock had a team of lawyers that exploited many a loophole.

    Styles: And there’s your answer.

    Boyo and Winter go to lock up again, only this time Boyo avoids getting caught by Winter’s superior strength. The Welsh Whippet whisks around the back of Winter, and attempts a German Suplex, but Winter blocks it, by placing his ankle around Boyo’s.

    Styles: The bigger, heavier Winter needs to avoid being dragged to the canvas by Boyo. If that happens then Boyo’s superior submission-style will surely give him an advantage - even against someone as trained, tough and vicious as Frostbite.

    Boyo gets caught in a side headlock by Winter and dragged down to the canvas. The crowd boo.

    Styles: Oh, great power by Winter.

    Heyman: Boyo shouldn’t have allowed himself to get caught like that. Silly error!

    Winter pulls hard on the headlock and Boyo can be heard yelping in pain as the grip around his neck tightens.

    Styles: Oof.

    Heyman: Supreme power being displayed here by The Omega Male. Boyo’s head must feel like it’s in a vice!

    Boyo attempts to counter the side headlock by getting to his feet and trying to execute a side suplex. Winter has that scouted though. Frostbite shifts his weight, making it difficult for Boyo to lift him.

    Styles: Winter not actually doing a great deal here in order to stop Boyo, all he’s done there is become a bit of a dead-weight. Wrestler’s hate that!

    Heyman: They do because despite being a bit cumbersome and unoriginal, it’s still a verrrrry effective way of winning a wrestling match. By becoming dead-weight, you are not using any calories, whilst your opponent burns them up trying to lift you!

    Boyo does manage to wriggle out of the side-headlock and gets behind Winter and secures Big Dub in a neat little hammerlock.

    Styles; Boyo, as evasive as ever. Such a great wrestling brain he’s got there, Paul.

    Heyman: “Great wrestling brain”?! He countered a headlock into a hammerlock! I doubt Antonio Inoki is going to be knocking at Boyo’s door any time soon with a suitcase full of money :lol:.

    Winter is unfazed by the predicament he finds himself in, his far superior strength allows him to simply force himself out of the hammerlock of Boyo, by pirouetting and reversing the pressure of the hold, so that Boyo now finds himself in an armbar (not to be confused with an ARMBAR~).

    Heyman: Ooooh, better put that contract ensuring headlining at the Tokyo Dome away Mr Inoki…

    Styles: Oh, very funny. Oof! Terrific short-armed clothesline by The Omega Male!

    Joey Styles called that spot-on, so he did. Winter nailed Boyo with a rather nasty clothesline, making use of the advantageous position he found himself in with Boyo in the standing armbar.

    Styles: Pin Cover!



    Crowd: Twoooo!

    Styles: Pah! He didn’t think he’d win there, did he?

    Heyman: Look Joey, Boyo’s been out of the ring for close to a year. I would really doubt that he can go for 40 minutes like he used to. And what better way to wear your opponent down quickly, other than to get him to literally bench-press your bodyweight?

    Styles: Yeah, true.

    Heyman: Winter didn’t even hook Boyo’s leg there; all he said was “you wanna kick out, then you’ve got to shift my weight“! That’s very clever from Winter, classic tactics.

    Styles: You know something, Paul?

    Heyman: What?

    Styles; Every now and again, you have something truly insightful and relevant to say.

    Heyman: I do, huh?

    Styles: Yeah but, not just then.

    Boyo is dragged to his feet, by the hair, by The Omega Male, only for Winter to scoop the Welsh Wonder up and power slam him back to the canvas. The crowd boo.

    Heyman: Continuing with the same tactics. Wear Boyo down. Wind him.

    Styles: Getting power slammed like that will sure take the air out of your lungs.

    Winter drops an elbow to Boyo’s chest and goes for another pin, this time hooking the leg. Sickness thinks about making a move to help his partner.




    Crowd: Twoooo!

    Styles: Boyo kicks out yet again, but Arron Winter is a heavy weight to shift after being power slammed.

    Winter gets back to his feet and raises him arms to the crowd, who roar a boo back at him. Winter then turns his attention to Samson and Thorp, raising his arms to them and gesturing at the dazed Boyo, who is being allowed to get to his feet.

    Styles: That last couple of minutes wasn’t just Arron Winter making a statement to this crowd, and the Dark Alliance…you feel that it was mainly a statement to Lucas Thorp and Edward Samson, letting them know that, “hey! I can do as much damage as you can, buddy.”

    Heyman: I think the location of the Triple Crown says otherwise, Joey.

    With Boyo finally back to his feet, Winter turns his attention to the Welsh Woolly, striking him a couple of times with suspiciously-closed punches. The crowd boo and Sickness tries pointing out to the ref the dubious legality of these jabs, but the ref doesn’t appear to hear.

    Styles: Winter still on the offensive, he’s been great so far.

    Heyman: Boyo’s rustiness has been plain to see. I think this match was too soon for him.

    Winter Irish-whips Boyo to the ropes and upon his return, attempts a back body drop. However Boyo counters this with a Sunset Flip, much to the crowd’s delight, and attempts a pin of his own:



    Styles: Not even a two-count by Boyo there, but I think he’s showing Frostbite that there’s still life in the old dog yet.

    Boyo and Winter both get to their feet quickly. Winter aims another short clothesline at The Welsh Wascal but Boyo ducks it, aiming a successful knee to Winter’s ribs, making the big Estonian clutch his side.

    Styles: Nice knee-shot there from Boyo, and now he’s secured Winter in an Arm-Wringer and is tagging in his partner, Sickness, much to the crowd‘s delight!

    Styles called that last bit of action right on the money! Sickness is tagged in and the crowd cheers loudly! Sickness then does something that makes them cheer even more loudly - he kicks Frostbite right in the ribs, and again!, whilst Boyo has him in the Arm-Wringer.

    Heyman: Hey! Boyo’s got to get out of that ring!

    Boyo does indeed get out of the ring.

    Styles: He must have heard you :rolleyes2:

    Heyman: Hey-

    Sickness takes the mantle of beating up Arron Winter. He shoulder-barges Big-Freezey into the Dark Alliance corner before bashing his elbow across the top of Winter’s head a couple times.

    Styles: Ay-ya-yay, Zordon! That’s gotta hurt!

    Heyman: I would imagine that a 230lbs man hitting you on the top of the head with his elbow would, Joey!

    Sickness makes the quick tag back to Boyo who immediately runs to the opposite ropes, comes back and executes a devastating, but altogether majestic, 360 Tornado Punch to Arron Winter who is still getting his bearings leant up against the turnbuckle. The crowd cheers very loudly!

    Heyman: Old-Skool Boyo right there!

    Styles: Shades of the late, great Texas Tornado, Kerry von Erich with that 360 punch right there. And Boyo makes another quick tag to Sickness. The Dark Alliance really are in tandem now.

    Heyman: Now this is what they need to do in order to win this match, Joey. Quick tags, moves that hurt. Keep yourselves fresh whilst your opponent remains boshed. That’s how The Dark Alliance won their titles; great, classic tag-team wrestling.

    Styles: And do you think they can keep this up, Paul? I mean, they haven’t wrestled as a tag team for over 2 years.

    Heyman: If they want to win this match then they have to, Joey.

    Sickness climbs back in the ring, as Boyo ascends to the middle turnbuckle. Some of the more knowledgeable crowd are already cheering as they know what move the good ol’ Alliance of the Dark are preparing to do next…

    Styles: Talking about old-skool Dark Alliance; if they nail what I think they’re going to try to nail, then I think I may just mark out. :p

    Sickness grabs roughly the dazed torso of Arron Winter and gets the Estonian Artisan in a vicious full-nelson. The crowd really begin to cheer now!

    Heyman: If I have to give Sickness dues for anything, Joey, it will be for the fact that no one can execute a full-nelson quite as acutely as he can. Arron Winter cannot move!

    Styles: And it’s the range of moves he can do from that position, too, Paul. Sickness is the master of the full-nelson, he really is!

    Heyman: Damned straight! I’ve seen Sickness do suplexes, bulldogs, neck-breakers and The Darkness Falls from this position.

    Boyo is now on the second turnbuckle, Sickness is the legal man. Sickness still has the full-nelson locked in on Winter and positions the Omega Male so he’s a couple of feet from Boyo. The Welsh Wonder leaps from the turnbuckle and plants his elbow right on the top of Winter’s head! The crowd EXPLODE!

    Styles: SKULL BUSTER! SKULL BUSTER! The Dark Alliance are in the house tonight, Paul!

    Heyman: And look at Samson, he just watches!

    A camera shot of Edward Samson goes close up and Samson’s face is projected on the TWOTron. Samson’s face is stone cold (not THAT Stone-Cold :p), expressionless and eerie.

    Heyman: You wouldn’t want to play him at Texas Hold’em, eh Styles!?

    The in the background of that shot, still being projected on the TWOTron, the crowd get a glimpse of Lucas Thorp. Now this guy is grinning like a Cheshire cat! A smile (actually, more of a sneer) from ear to ear at the sight of Winter getting the bejebus beaten out of him. The crowd really boo at the sight of Thorp’s wretched grin.

    Crowd: BOOOOOOOO!!

    Styles: Well, after his big speech earlier on, he doesn’t seem to want to “save” Arron Winter, does he?

    Heyman: He’s a busy man.

    Styles: Lucas Thorp is a disgusting piece of human tissue, Paul. He has brainwashed an otherwise fine and perfectly pleasant young man in Edward Samson, and made him into a mindless henchman.

    The ref counts for Boyo to get out of the ring,

    Ref: One, two…

    …and Boyo departs, leaving Sickness still holding a by-now groggy Arron Winter in that same full-nelson that it seems he’s been in for about ten minutes. From nowhere, with a flick of the hips, Sickness launches Frostbite backwards and over his head! The crowd ROAR as Winter lands on his neck, awkwardly!

    Styles: Full-Nelson Suplex by Sickness!

    Heyman: That was sick, Styles!

    Styles: Well, duh.

    Heyman: Hey, don’t you get ideas above your sta-

    Styles: PIN COVER!




    Crowd: Twoooo!

    Styles: Oh! Sickness nearly had him!

    Heyman: That was a good ol’ fashioned display of rather large testes, Joey! Winter must be like Steve Austin - not THAT Steve Austin :p - to be able to kick outta a move like that, delivered by Sickness!

    Styles: But it doesn’t look like Sickness is finished yet!

    No, and I’m telling you; Joey Styles has been right on the button all the way through this match! Sickness grabs a handful of Winter’s mullet and pulls The Omega Male to his feet. The Mini Monster is kinda near the ropes, and with trademark sharpness, kicks Winter in the gut

    Heyman: Oof!

    Then wraps his hand around Winter’s head and does a sit-down neck-breaker! The crowd ERUPT!


    Heyman: Wow! He nailed Winter with that move!

    Arron doesn’t lose his footing completely, but does stumble back against the ropes, before bouncing ever-so-slightly off of them…straight back into Sickness’ path, who now delivers a quick-as-a-flash DDT!

    Styles: And Sickness follows that Stunner with a DDT! The Cross Infection has been struck! No one (well, hardly anyone) kicks outta something like that, Paul!

    Heyman: Well, we’ll find out won’t we..?

    Styles: Sickness going for another cover!



    Heyman: This is it!


    Crowd: OHHH!

    Heyman: Man! That was close. Too close!

    Styles: Arron Winter barely got a shoulder up just then!

    Heyman: And where’s his tag team partner!? What’s Sansom doing when all this is going on!?

    Styles: Sansom? You mean Samson? :lol:

    Heyman: Don’t you mock me, Styles! I hate it when you mock me! I hate it so much!

    The camera shows another shot of Edward Samson. He’s not overly bothered about Arron Winter, it appears. Again, there is another close-up of Lucas Thorp and his sneer has not left his face. The crowd boo this sight.

    Styles: Does he even care what happens to Arron Winter in this match, Paul? If he doesn’t get Samson to step in and help then there is a very real chance he could lose this match!

    The close up of Thorp is still projected on to the TWOTron. Thorp is aware that the crowd are booing his lack of compassion for Arron Winter, so he feigns a look of worry…before grinning again. The crowd boo even more.

    Styles: It’s Lucas Thorp, Paul! Lucas Thorp is the truly evil sunna-bee-yotch in this main event! Sure, there are your tradition goodies and baddies -

    Heyman: Uh, hello? You can’t say that!

    Styles: Oh, come on, Paul! Our audience know the score! Anyway, you have your good guys, and you have your bad guys, but even then the bad guys are a bad because of a desire to win gold. They just do it in a way that’s a little more unacceptable to the crowd, right?

    Heyman: (mumbling) Oh, boy I’m gonna get fired here…(talking normally) yeah, I suppose you’re right.

    Styles: But this guy Thorp, he doesn’t want to achieve gold by the looks of it. He’s quite happy to witness a man like Arron Winter, however much he’s booed, get beaten up by The Dark Alliance to the point of injury, and he just watches it. That’s massively evil, in my opinion.

    Heyman: Hey, his man has got the Triple Crown. He doesn’t have a tag-team partner, and he doesn’t seem to like Winter. Just why would he care about winning this match for gold?

    Sickness raises his arms to the crowd, who roar back at him, and swaggers over to his tag partner, Boyo, and tags the old goat in. The crowd cheer again.

    Styles: The Dark Alliance keeping things fresh here, Paul. Boyo comes back in and Winter is struggling to his feet. He’s in trouble here!

    Boyo slithers in through the middle and top ropes, and approaches Winter, who has just about made it to his feet. Winter looks at Samson for the tag, and the two men make eye contact.

    Styles: Winter looking for a tag here. Perhaps Samson can offer his assistance in this match?

    Boyo sees this predicament and quickens towards Winter, grabbing Frostbite roughly in a Hammerlock with one hand, whilst using the other two get The Estonian-Bristolian in a rear chin-lock, so Big Dub is looking at the arena roof. The crowd cheers loudly at this!

    Styles: Boyo, just like that, has got Arron Winter set up for The Darkness Falls, one of the most sick moves that I’ve seen in my time in TWOStars!

    Heyman: I reckon that Winter should just count his chickens, accept loss in this match, and come back next year, looking to dish out some retribution to Samson, Thorp and The Dark Alliance in 2009.

    Styles: But Winter’s fighting! He’s fighting back!

    That’s right; Arron Winter uses his free arms to swing his elbow a few times at Boyo’s head, chest and gut. A few of these swings strike the Welsh Wizard.

    Heyman: And Winter smashes Boyo right in the kidney with that shot! Wow!

    The crowd are surprised and make some noise, not really popping or booing, just ripples of surprise, as that strike to the kidney of Boyo makes the Welshman relent his grip of Winter’s chin. Now, with only a hammerlock synched in on Winter and a painful mid-section, Boyo is not in full control…

    Styles: I must hand it to the Big Estonian, Paul, he’s got heart!

    Heyman: Arron Winter has realised that he’s not going to get any help from Samson, so he’s got to do it all himself!

    Despite being in a hammerlock from ol’ Boyo, Winter reaches over his head with his free arm, grabs a chunk of Boyo’s hair, and drops to his knees! The crowd boo! Heyman marvels at the ingenuity!

    Heyman: Oh, wow! Winter has just delivered a modified Rude Awakening to Boyo! That was a work of genius!

    Styles: More importantly Paul, Winter has just achieved something that no-one has ever done before - he has reversed the Darkness Falls. Evil Gringo, Draven Cage, Dante Mueller, Barry Gower, Andy Gee, Crippler…no one, no one at all, have ever done that!!

    Boyo is holding his nose, writhing on the canvas in shock, Sickness looks aghast at his tag team partner, and Winter struggles to his feet, slowly making his way towards Edward Samson.

    Heyman: Now, heh heh, now we’ll see the tides change in this match Joey! Winter tags in Samson, Samson pounds Boyo into oblivion, new tag team champions, hah hah!!

    Winter is a few feet from Samson, who is looking at the Big Frostbiter. Winter sticks out a hand, imploring Samson to tag it. Samson also sticks out his hand… The crowd do not like this at all, they start booing.

    Styles: Things are about to get worse, and quickly, for The Dark Alliance!

    Suddenly, Thorp, at ringside, gets Samson’s attention. No one can quite make what Thorp is instructing Samson to do, but one this is for sure, Samson retracts his hand from being available for a tag, and just stares at Winter coldly. Winter looks crestfallen! And then angry!

    Styles: Huh!

    Heyman: What’s going on here!?

    The crowd boo this scene enormously! It seems they may not like Arron Winter very much , but a tag partner not tagging in to a match to save a battered comrade is the trump boo-enabler!!

    Styles: It’s got to be that damned Lucas Thorp! What possible reason could he have for not wanting his man Samson to tag in right now? Boyo’s down, Sickness is tired, Samson is 100% fresh and in the form of his life? Thorp’s evil, Paul! Pure evil!

    Heyman: Hey, you don’t know what’s going through the mind of either Samson or Thorp, Joey! Shut up!

    Styles; But it looked like Samson was ready to tag Arron Winter! He was going to make the tag until Thorp told him not to! I think underneath that brutal exterior of Edward Samson lies a decent, albeit very deadly young man…it’s just that Lucas Thorp has completely brain-washed him.

    Heyman: It did look like he wanted to tag in, in all fairness.

    Winter starts gesticulating with Thorp and Samson, demanding the tag…but all he receives is Samson’s blank stare and Thorp’s wicked smirk. Thorp seems to be tapping the side of his head to denote his superior intelligence. The crowd are up-in-arms and booing very loudly!!

    Heyman: Concentrate on the match, Winter!

    Styles: He hasn’t noticed Boyo sneak up behind him! Roll-up! Roll-up by Boyo!!

    Heyman: Inside cradle!

    Styles: He could have him here!




    Crowd: Twoooo! Ohhhhh!

    Heyman: Good Gawd, that was close, Joey!

    Styles: Thorp would have no doubt have been very pleased with himself if that had cost his team the win. I just don’t get the man’s way of thinking, Paul.

    Heyman: And that’s why you’re stuck behind this announce table and Thorp is managing the Triple Crown Champion!

    Both Winter and Boyo are quickly back on their feet, and facing each other, looking for the showdown. Boyo aims a jab at Winter, who avoids it and counters with a haymaker to Boyo’s gut.

    Styles: Oof!

    The punch lands. The crowd boo as Boyo buckles over and Frostbite capitalises, getting Boyo in a front facelock and kneeing the Welsh Wally in the gut a few times.

    Styles: Winter is delivering some big shots to Boyo, here!

    Heyman: This is the window of opportunity that Winter has been looking for, Joey! He’s got to incapacitate Boyo now, and then close in on the win.

    Winter now has Boyo set up for a DDT; but instead of delivering that move, The Omega Male heaves Boyo up in the air, and then brings him back down again, so Boyo lands on his face, chest and belly - completely taking the wind of him! The crowd boo this!

    Styles: Excellent move there, Paul! An inverted Falcon Arrow - I haven’t seen one of those in a long time!

    Heyman: Heh heh…bee-yoo-ti-ful!

    Winter doesn’t stop there, though; he gets right on top of the succumbed Boyo and locks in a hammerlock with one of Boyo’s arms, and drapes Boyo’s other arms over his knee, and locks in a modified Camel-Clutch (with Hammerlock), the crowd boo loudly!


    Heyman: Arron Winter has taken a firm grip in this match now, Joey!

    Styles: And from being in a bad position in this match, Winter now finds himself in total control!

    Heyman: And he’s really dishing the punishment on ol’ Boy to the O right now!

    Winter can be heard screaming at Boyo,

    Winter: Give up, Boyo!

    The crowd boo loudly, as Sickness bangs his fists on the top rope, trying to get the crowd to yell encouragement for his tag team partner. It works.

    Crowd: Boyo! Boyo! Boyo! Boyo! Etc…

    Styles: Listen to this crowd, Paul, they are right behind this old crowd favourite!

    Winter yanks hard on the Eastern Block Lock and Boyo can be heard yelping in pain. Winter screams a couple more times at Boyo to give up, and the crowd respond a couple more times by increasing the volume of their booing.

    Heyman: Heh, break him in half, Winter!

    Styles: That was a bit harsh!

    Heyman: Put that old coot out of his misery; that’s what I say! His arm’s been broken, his shoulder’s already ruined, this Eastern Block Lock could finish Boyo for good. End his career. For EVER this time!!

    Styles: I’ve always liked Boyo, y’know Paul? He’s had a distinguished career, which is largely chronicled on his DVD which is available in the “Special Collections” archive. ;).

    Heyman: Yeah, nice plug, Max Clifford.

    Styles: Yeah, when he was finding his feet he could be a bit of a douche bag, but since he’s matured he’s become one of the hardest working, and most purely-talented submissions wrestlers seen in this industry. I can for-see Boyo going on for years yet, winning more titles too!

    Heyman: Well, by the looks of this Eastern Block Lock, Joey Styles, I’m going to have to question your judgement.

    The ref gets on his hands and knees and moves in closer to Boyo, who is spluttering for breath.

    Ref: Boyo, do you give up? Do you wanna give up, Boyo?

    Boyo: Noooo!

    The crowd pops at this, but Arron Winter just pulls harder on the Eastern Block Lock, bending Boyo practically in half. With both of his arms out of commission, Boyo is practically helpless.

    Ref: Boyo, y’wanna give up?

    Boyo: NOOO!

    Styles: Good Gawd, Winter is taking out all of his pent-up frustrations out on Boyo right now!

    Boyo: ARRGGHH!!

    Crowd: Boyo! BOYO! BOYO! BOYO! BOYO! BOYO!

    Styles: And this crowd are right behind Boyo now, willing him, urging him to fight this!

    Heyman: But Boyo is not in a position to fight, he’s fading, Joey!

    The ref goes in for a closer look at Boyo.

    Ref: Boyo! You wanna give up!?

    Ref: Boyo! Y’wanna give up, buddy?

    Boyo: (gulps)…ugh, no!

    Sickness is now jumping up and down on the apron, clapping his hands, demanding that the crowd get even more vocal for The Dark Alliance mouth-piece!

    Crowd: Boyo! <clap clap clap!>…Boyo! <clap clap clap!>

    Ref: Boyo, you’re gonna have to give me something, do you want to give up?

    Boyo: …

    Winter pulls even harder on the Eastern Block Lock, Boyo is practically unresponsive.

    Styles: Oh man, Boyo has had it.

    Heyman: Wow! Winter has totally decimated him!

    Boyo: …

    Ref: Boyo!

    Boyo: …

    Winter: Give up you sunna-b*tch!

    Suddenly the crowd pops as Sickness can take it no more, climbs in to the ring, runs up to Arron Winter and…

    Heyman: NO!!


    …Sickness delivers a vicious running stomp to the face of Arron Winter, causing Frostbite to fall back, releasing the Eastern Block Lock on a barely conscious Boyo, and really turning the lights out in Winter’s head, too. The crowd cheers this very loudly, and also seems a little relieved that Boyo lives to fight another day!

    Heyman: Winter had Boyo right there. The match was Winter and Samson’s for the taking, and we would have had new tag Team Champions! Arron Winter would have beaten The Dark Alliance on his own!

    The referee orders Sickness out of the ring, as Boyo and Arron Winter are both laid out in the middle of the ring, battered and barely aware of what’s around them. The race for the hot-tags is now on!

    Styles: Both men are in desperate need of a tag to the other man. Boyo wants to tag in Sickness, and more importantly, Boyo knows he can rely on Sickness making that tag. For Arron Winter though, who knows if he will make that tag? Who knows if Edward Samson - or more likely, Lucas Thorp - will allow Samson to make that tag!?

    Heyman: Well, imagine the glory to be had for Lucas Thorp if Edward Samson is allowed to let rip on Boyo right now? Good Gawd Almighty! It’d be carnage!

    Styles: And if I know anything at all, I know that Lucas Thorp will enjoy that. He can witness a true great get the hell beaten out of him, and he won’t have to get his hands dirty.

    Both Winter and Boyo are crawling, crawling, crawling…towards their corner…

    Styles: The fate of this match probably hinges on this tag. Who will get the tag first?

    Heyman: If Sickness gets in first, then he’s got a free reign over Winter, who will not be backed up by Samson. If Samson gets it, then he’s got free reign over Boyo!

    Boyo crawls, crawls and crawls…reaches over…and MAKES THE TAG!! The crowd pops HUGE as Sickness leaps in to the ring and Boyo rolls out. Winter, in a last ditch attempt to save himself…sticks his taggin’ hand out to Samson and practically pleads with the zombified henchman…

    …WHO MAKES THE TAG!! The crowd sorta pop, but then boo really loudly at this! Winter rolls straight out of the ring and grabs hold of the bottom rope, pulls himself to his feet, and desperately clutches for breath.

    Styles: Sickness and Samson are going to go at it - toe to toe, nose to nose, man to man!!

    Heyman: Yeah, and where did that get Sickness last time?! :rolleyes2:

    Sickness unleashes a torrent of closed-fisted punches to the head of the Masked Madman.

    Styles: Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Sickness is unrelenting here! I’ve never seen him so aggressive.

    Heyman: Well he needs to be! The last time these two met, Sickness did something that he had never done before…tap. Out!

    Sickness delivers a barrage of wild, swinging fists to the head, neck and teeth of Edward Samson, who stumbles backwards and backwards, towards his own corner, quite taken aback by the sheer ferocity of the Sick One!

    Styles: Go on, get him Sickness! This is your chance for revenge!

    Heyman: Biased, much Joey?

    Sickness follows Samson into the corner where he gets up and close and personal, trying to once more take the executioner’s mask from the head of the Triple Crown Champion. The crowd are loving this!

    Crowd: Let’s go Sickness! Let’s go Sickness! Let’s go Sickness! And so on…

    Heyman: He - he’s trying to rip that mask from his head! This isn’t wrestling, Styles!

    Styles: There appears to be a method underneath Sickness’ madness though. He wants that mask off Samson’s face because…well, I don’t know!

    Sickness has his fingers underneath the mask and is prizing it from Samson’s head. Sickness then moves in towards the face of The Executioner, baring his teeth. Some of the crowd seems to murmur with a bit of shock!

    Styles: Oh my God, Sickness is - is he? - he’s trying to bite Edward Samson right on the nose!

    Heyman: This doesn’t mean it’s anything to do with wrestling, Joey! Sickness is an animal! He should be locked up!

    Styles: OHHHH!!

    Styles’ remark was because Samson, once seeing that Sickness was lovely and up close to his face, delivered a stunning head-butt to the nose of the Mini Monster. Sickness immediately yelps in pain and shock, holding his nose, blood already seeping through his fingers!

    Styles: What a vicious head-butt by Samson right there, Paul! Sickness has been caught cold and, I suspect, busted open badly!

    Heyman: Well he serves him right, Joey! Sickness hasn’t tried a single wrestling move on Samson since they both made the tag. It’s been nothing but punch, punch, bite, punch.! Heh, Sickness tried to fight fire with fire, and only got more fire.

    Styles; And I’m sure that that head-butt that we saw from Samson was a fabulous example of wrestling, was it?

    Like a cat, Samson pounces forward with an explosion of movement, rugby-tackling Sickness to the canvas, mounting him, and delivering closed-fisted punches of his own, in a slow, deliberate and orthodox manner. Each punch connects with Sickness like a force of nature, like I suppose they are anyway. The crowd boo.

    Styles: Samson, is so aloof in the ring, so unpredictable. How can you fight him, and know what to expect, Paul?

    Heyman: It’s verrrrry difficult, Joey. I mean, take Samson; he often just stands there without moving, he just shifts slowly and thoughtfully at a snail’s pace…and then, once you think you’ve got him sussed, POW! He attacks you with lightning speed. He doesn’t strike you as often, or as quickly as other wrestlers do, but a higher percentage of his strikes land…and they land well. Like now. Heh.

    Styles: Pin cover - no! Samson gets up off Sickness.

    The referee had moved in to position to count Sickness, as Samson’s strikes had so much energy out of the Mini Monster, whilst being mounted by Samson and laying on his back that Sickness hadn’t thought about keeping his shoulders up. Samson, seeing that the ref was going to attempt a three count, immediately got to his feet.

    Ref: What’s going on? C’mahhn!

    Styles: And Samson, that vulture! He would rather go for the submission rather than the indignity of a three count.

    Heyman: That’s the hall-mark of a truly scary individual, Joey. Here he is, a supremely confident human being, in the ring with the only man in TWOStars who - let’s be honest - you wouldn’t want to try to make submit, despite what happened last time…and instead of going for the easier pin-fall he wants to go for the submission.

    Styles: Wow, that’s a mark of a champion.

    Heyman: You bet your pasty white ass it is, Joey. Samson doesn’t just want to beat Sickness, he wants to purge Sickness of his ego. He wants to make Sickness tap. Again.

    Samson drags Sickness to his feet by sticking his two front fingers up Sickness’ nostrils and pulling. Joey Styles can be heard sucking his teeth down the mic.

    Styles: Owwwwww, that monster! Not only does he want to make Sickness tap, he is also treating him like a bit of garbage. That’s huge disrespect right there.

    Samson Irish-Whips Sickness into his corner, where Arron Winter has by-now regained his energy. Sickness lands hard and Samson immediately follows with a running double elbow to the temple of Sickness, that makes the Dark Alliance Self-Harmer collapse to the floor.


    Heyman: Mr Sickness is seeing stars right now, Joey, you can quote me on that, haha!

    Sickness props himself on the floor, leaning against the bottom turnbuckle, his head lolling around the place, trying to get his bearings back. Samson gives Arron Winter a look as if to say, “I’ve spent a couple of minutes in this ring with this guy and left him on his arse, buddy. Don’t muck it up!!”, before proceeding to shove the Estonian E-Fedder in the chest, to denote to the ref that he intends to tag Winter in. The crowd boo.

    Styles: Well, these two men are in complete control, Paul, but there’s a hell of a lot of animosity between the two. Can you explain it?

    Heyman: I think Samson thinks - or rather, has been conditioned to think - that he is much better in every considerable way that Arron Winter, and therefore it’s an insult to have to tag with him.

    Styles: I think it’s this Lucas Thorp putting these ideas in to his head, Paul.

    Heyman: Well, Samson right now is the best, there’s no getting around it.

    Styles: Yeah, he’s the Triple Crown Champion but Arron Winter is still a damned-fine competitor, Paul. It’s not like there’s light-years between them.

    Heyman: I don’t know, Joey! Right now I think there’s light years between Edward Samson and pretty much everyone on the TWOStars roster. Hell, take a look at Sickness - he’s in the middle of next week! Heh heh heh heh!

    Styles: Yeah, real funny.

    Winter picks Sickness up to his feet and just looks at Samson, and then at the crowd…and saves his most venomous look for Lucas Thorp.

    Styles: Oh wow, Arron Winter isn’t going to be upstaged at his own PPV!

    Heyman: Own PPV? What are you talking about, Joey!?

    Styles: Well, y’know….Seasons Beatings, Frostbite, Winter…heh, heh!? There’s some verbal alliteration in there somewhere.

    Heyman: Good God, that was desperate, Joey!

    Styles: Oh go to hell!

    Big Dub delivers a couple of hard uppercuts to the ribcage of Sickness before hoisting him up over his shoulders, in to the Torture Rack position, and then starts pulling Sickness around his neck, increasing the pain in the ribs of Sickness that had just been punched.

    Styles: Huge Torture Rack on Sickness by Arron Winter here. Wow! Winter earlier on had Boyo bent in two in that Eastern Block Lock, and now he’s doing the same to Sickness with this Torture Rack!

    Heyman: Technically, this man Winter is a machine. A wrestling machine. I would go so far to say that overall, amongst all the wrestlers in TWOStars, Winter locks in his moves a little better than everyone else.

    Styles: He’s a student of the arts alright. And, OOF! Goodnight Sickness!

    The crowd boos as Winter, from the Torture Rack position, launches the Mini Monster over his head and strikes the Dark Alliance Nutter in the head with his knee.

    Heyman: What did I tell ya, Joey!? His moves are utter perfection!

    Styles: HIBERNATION on Sickness! Wow! Oh my God! That was a thing of majesty alright!

    Heyman: And Boyo’s in no shape to help his partner!

    Styles: Arron Winter going for the pin cover!

    Heyman: He’s hooked the leg, he could have him here!!




    Crowd: Twoooo!

    Styles: And Sickness gets a shoulder up!

    Heyman: That was close, though!

    Styles: It was, Paul, but you gotta remember that although he was made to tap last month, the resilience of this man Sickness is still a thing of legend.

    Winter slams the canvas with his hands in frustration and looks back at Samson, who is just staring, unblinkingly, at the Omega Male struggling to put away his opponent.

    Heyman: I bet Samson’s thinking that he could have got Sickness to quit by now.

    Styles: Correction - I bet Thorp is telling Samson to think that he could have got Sickness to quit by now.

    Heyman: Whatever, Joey :rolleyes2:.

    Winter picks Sickness up to his feet once more and Irish-Whips the Waylander to the ropes, with a smirk on his face.

    Styles: What a wicked grin on the face of the Omega Male. What has he got up his sleeve now?

    Upon his return from the ropes, Arron Winter ducks down and back-body drops Sickness up and over his head; on the way down, Winter grabs Sickness in mid-air, by the back of the head, and DRIVES HIS FACE IN TO THE CANVAS!!

    Heyman: OWW! What a move!

    The crowd erupt in booing!

    Styles: IRON CURTAIN! IRON CURTAIN! IRON CURTAIN! Sickness could be done here!

    Heyman: Could be? Sickness just had his face ploughed in to canvas from 10 feet up! OF COURSE HE’S DONE!!

    Styles: PIN COVER!

    Heyman: We could have new Tag Team Champions!!




    Crowd: OHHHH!!


    Heyman: How the HELL did he kick outta that, Joey!? I thought his goose was cooked!

    Styles: Sickness has the ability to absorb inhumane amounts of punishment, Paul. I think Arron Winter is finding that out!

    Winter lets out a scream of “God dammit!!” and slams the canvas with his fists a few more times, much to the crowd’s pleasure.

    Styles: Winter is going to have to pull off all the stops in order to defeat this uber-tough individual, Mr Sickness.

    Heyman: I think he will though; I think - hell, I know - that The Omega male has more in his locker. I’ll give Sickness all the credit in the world for kicking out, however he has only kicked out of everything that Winter has thrown at him so far. There’s plenty more to come yet, belee’dat.

    Styles: Heh, trying to connect with the ethnic audience, eh? I luv ya, Paul E - always reaching out to the wider crowd :p.

    Heyman: Oh, go drown in your own smug sense of self-satisfaction, Styles.

    Styles: It’s a good thing that you don’t have a lisp, or I would have been covered :p.

    Arron Winter picks Sickness to his feet once more, and Irish-Whips the Mini Monster the ropes. Upon his return, Frostbite aims a huge clothesline but Sickness ducks it and runs to the opposite ropes. The crowd pop!

    Crowd: Ohhh!

    Styles: Great awareness from Sickness, he ducks that big Estonian Clothesline!

    Sickness runs back at Winter, who has turned to face him.

    Styles: Winter with another -


    The Omega Male had levelled a second clothesline at The Waylander who, this time, grabs a hold of Winter’s arm and keeps a hold of it whilst getting behind Winter - locking that arms in to a Hammerlock. The crowd cheers this!

    Styles: Great stuff from Sickness here, he avoided two clotheslines and now finds himself in the ascendancy with this hammerlock on Big Dub.

    Standing behind Winter with the Hammerlock synched in, Sickness then reaches around with his other hand and pulls on Winter’s chin, so that the Estonian Artisan is now looking at the arena roof. Some of the crowd start cheering really loudly for this, awaiting the final part of this brilliant move.

    Styles: Sickness setting up Winter for the -

    Heyman: Boyo couldn’t lock this move in earlier on!

    Sickness drops down to one knee, planting Winter’s spine over his knee, with the Hammerlock and Chin-lock still locked in! The crowd goes berserk!!


    Heyman: Amazing move, Styles! That came outta nowhere!

    Styles: Arron “The Omega Male” Winter has just been nailed with the Darkness Falls by Sickness, and he’s prone on the canvas. And look at Boyo, look at him! He wants in! He wants to finish Winter off!!

    The crowd cheers as Sickness, still very much groggy from the pounding he has just taken, recognises that Boyo wants back in, and makes his way over to The Dark Alliance corner and…

    Styles: In comes Boyo!

    Crowd: Boyo! Boyo! Boyo! Boyo! Etc…

    Heyman: Typical boyo really, always feeding off the scraps that Sickness leaves him. Sickness does the pounding, Boyo gets the win on a weakened opponent.

    Styles: Hey! That’s tag-team wrestling, buddy. That’s why The Dark Alliance are three times Tag Team Champions!!

    Heyman: Hmph!

    Styles: And d’ya know what?

    Heyman: What?

    Styles: I think I can smell a fourth title for The Dark Alliance coming up!

    Heyman: I stand by my previous statement.

    Styles: Which was?

    Heyman: Hmph!

    Styles: :rolleyes2:

    Boyo enters the ring, and Sickness rolls out. The crowd goes nuts as Boyo attacks Winter with some nasty-looking knees to the gut and ribs of The Omega Male, starting at the front, and then working his around to the back, where he starts unloading with some hard-knees to the lower spine of Winter.

    Styles: Boyo’s got the scent of blood now! He can really taste victory!

    Heyman: He’s the same wrestling vulture that he’s always been, Joey!

    Styles: Wrestling vulture or not, Paul, Boyo has accomplished so much in his career! He’s won the Battle Royale Rumble, the World Heavyweight Title, two-time Tag Team Champion, and the ERE Intercontinental Champion. You cannot argue with his credentials!

    Heyman: I’m not arguing with his credentials, Joey - but I am stating that the man’s a vulture.

    Styles: Well, I disagree.

    Winter is holding his lower back like an old man, crying in gasps of pain, after the bashing that Boyo has just given to his lower back. Boyo looks to the crowd, and then to Edward Samson, and smirks. The crowd cheers loudly.

    Crowd: Let’s go Boyo! Let’s go Boyo! Let’s go Boyo!

    Boyo decides that he will indeed “go”, and delivers a luscious stomp to the gut of The Omega Male, that buckles the big Estonian in two. Boyo then shoves Winter’s head in between his legs (as if to a Power-Bomb), hoists Big Dub over his right shoulder, so Winter is staring up at the arena roof, and holds him there for a few seconds, before looking to the crowd again.

    Styles: Winter’s in a position that he doesn’t want to be in; Boyo’s going to hit him with the -

    Boyo drops down to one knee, and Arron’s spine is almost bent in two, the wrong way! The crowd EXPLODE in cheers for this!

    Styles: BARRY ISLAND BACK-BREAKER! BARRY ISLAND BACK-BREAKER! Boyo just nailed Arron Winter with the Barry Island Back-Breaker!

    Heyman: Winter was almost broken in two, Joey!!

    Styles: It’s a super move, is that!

    Heyman: A super move, ridiculously named.

    Winter is slumped unceremoniously on to the canvas, on his back. Boyo stands over the Big New Blood Albino, picks up both of Winter’s legs (by the ankles), and starts stomping on his hamstrings. The crowd ERUPT!! Boyo smirks to the crowd.

    Crowd: Boyo! Boyo! Boyo! Etc..

    Styles: I think this is it now, Paul! Boyo has Winter set up for the Cloverleaf, and if he locks this in, then surely it’s all over!?

    Heyman: Arron Winter has survived a lot this match already, Joey. I wouldn’t be surprised if he avoids this, and comes through it stronger.

    Sickness is on the apron, looking at Boyo with a mixed look on his face. Boyo crosses Winters ankles over each other, and flips the big Estonian Archetype on to his back, before sitting back, pulling hard, and locking in his classic submission finisher!


    Heyman: And look at how well he has it applied!

    Styles: Boyo has the Cloverleaf locked in to perfection! Arron Winter is completely helpless!

    Winter lets out a roar of pain, and the crowd follow that up with a roar of encouragement. They can sense the end is nigh for Winter and Samson.

    Crowd: Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!

    Winter: Arrrrgggghh!!

    The ref gets closer to Winter, and looks to see if Winter can hold on any longer.

    Ref: Winter! You wanna give up?

    Winter: NOOOO!

    Ref: You wanta give up, Arron?

    Boyo revels in the moment and shoots a look over to Edward Samson and Lucas Thorp, as if to say, “Yeah, this is a frikkin’ Cloverleaf, buddy!”.

    Heyman: Look at Boyo! He’s taunting our Triple Crown Champion!

    Styles: He’s just letting Samson know that despite his recent success, there are some things that Samson and Thorp CANNOT “purge” people of, can NOT “cleanse” out of people. Boyo’s Cloverleaf being one of those things.

    Lucas Thorp can be seen looking very indignant, as if Boyo locking in a move he has done for 12 + years is somehow a personal attack. Thorp is jumping up and down outside the ring, looking apoplectic with rage!

    Styles: What’s got under Thorp’s collar? That rat! That stinkin’ rat!

    Thorp can be seem barking orders at his man, Edward Samson. Thorp is gesticulating wildly, pointing at Boyo, and using his hands to say “go and break him in half”. Edward Samson gets in the ring. The crowd start booing.

    Styles: Oh, that’s it, is it? Boyo is using his own move, a move - The Cloverleaf - that he actually invented, and somehow that utter douche bag Lucas Thorp has taken it personally!

    Heyman: Did you just say Boyo invented the Cloverleaf?

    Styles: Nothing wrong with a bit of revisionist history, Paul. You should know that. Your “Rise and Fall of ECW” DVD has enough of it.

    Heyman: Yeah, all the bits where I talk kindly about you!

    Styles: Boyo has Winter in that Cloverleaf, though, but what he really has to watch out for is Edward Samson, as he’s in the ring now.

    Samson doesn’t take a step closer though as all of a sudden -


    The crowd ERRRRRRRRRRUPT as Sickness rushes though the middle ropes and rugby tackles Samson viciously and out the ring, both men landing in an awkward mess.

    Styles: Sickness has prevented Samson from interfering, and Boyo still has Winter tied up in that Cloverleaf. This match is there for The Dark Alliance to take!

    Outside the ring, Sickness delivers a couple of hard elbows to the forehead of Samson, which sees the Executioner lose his bearings for a few seconds. Sickness gets to his feet, and goes to grab hold of Lucas Thorp, but the manager scarpers up the aisle to the stage area. Once in relative comfort, Thorp starts berating Sickness.

    Styles: Look at Thorp run like a scolded dog, Paul! The first sign of trouble and he legs it. If he was in trouble he would expect Samson to have his back, I’m sure!

    Crowd: Sickness! Sickness! Sickness! Sickness!

    Styles: And this capacity crowd are really behind Sickness and The Dark Alliance right now, as Sickness gets back in to the ring to no doubt watch Arron Winter tap out.

    Boyo has Winter in the Cloverleaf still; the referee’s attention has been elsewhere for a few seconds but now resumes to asking Winter if he wants to give up. Sickness stands in front of Boyo, who is pulling on the legs of the Omega Male. Boyo smirks at Sickness and offers a hand to high-5.

    Styles: The Dark Alliance have this sewn up.

    Sickness doesn’t seem to notice Boyo wanting to high-5 him. Sickness just stands there, motionless.

    Heyman: Heh, looks like ol’ Mr Sickness has gone a little short-sighted, huh? Or Boyo’s just getting’ a little too cocky for his own good.

    Styles: Hey, you don’t suppose something’s wrong here, do you?

    Heyman: Wrong? Like what?

    With the ref still checking on Winter for a tap, the camera is more focussed on Boyo and Sickness now looking at each other. Sickness just looks blankly at Boyo, his eyes glazed over, and now the Mini Monster starts shaking his head at Boyo, and starts scratching at his scalp, seemingly in torment. Boyo offers Sickness his hand to high-5 again.

    Styles: What’s going on with Sickness, Paul?

    Heyman: Maybe he’s taken one too many shots to the head? :p

    Styles: This looks serious, Paul…

    Boyo still offers Sickness his hand for a high-5, but now it’s obvious that Sickness is refusing to take it. Boyo looks a bit concerned and can be seen saying to Sickness,

    Boyo: C’mon Mr Sickness, we are a team!

    Sickness just scratches his scalp in a frenzy, and shakes his head.

    Boyo: We’re a team -

    And with that…


    Time seems to stand still…

    …The crowd go silent.

    …Even Paul Heyman is lost for words as Sickness drives a boot in to Boyo’s forehead, breaking the hold of the Cloverleaf!

    We are thrust back in to real time. The crowd are going nuts! Boyo is flat out on the canvas, knocked in to next week. Edward Samson is on the outside of the ring, just watching. Even Lucas Thorp is open-mouthed at what has just taken place! Sickness seems to be calming himself down, and then makes eye-contact with Arron Winter.

    Heyman: Sickness has snapped!! GET OUT OF THERE, WINTER!!

    Styles: Oh, I wouldn’t want to be Arron Winter right now! Sickness has just gone berserk and NAILED his tag team partner of 12 years, Boyo, right in the head. Folks, not since the days when Shawn Michaels kicked Marty Jannety through a barber-shop window have I seen anything as shocking in Tag Team as this!

    Sickness approaches Winter and stands over him, also with that same glazed look in his eyes. The referee takes one look and scrambles out underneath the bottom rope.

    Styles: The ring is not a safe place to be. The ref has just got out of town, Samson isn’t getting back in the ring, and I don’t blame them. I don’t know what the hell is going on just now, Paul, but all I can tell you is that Sickness has just snapped! Live on air, Sickness has just snapped! Boyo hasn’t moved.

    Heyman: I don’t even know what Boyo did to upset Sickness, Joey! He was just about to win with the Cloverleaf and wanted to celebrate that with his team-mate - then BOOM! Sickness lays him out.

    Styles: And now look at Sickness Look at him! He’s stalking The Omega Male Arron Winter.

    Winter is still on the canvas, and is looking up at Sickness, who is standing over him. Sickness’ eyes don’t look as glazed any more. They seem to have regained their focus, and now they are LOCKED on to Arron Winter!

    Styles: Someone’s gotta stop this. Get outta there, Winter!!

    The TWOTron shows a close up of Winter’s face. He is paralysed with fear, as Sickness stands over him, and then takes a step closer.

    Styles: Oh God..

    The crowd seem to go quiet again, waiting with baited breath for Sickness to strike. The TWOTron is still showing Winter’s close-up fearful face, but then, just like that, Winter breaks in to a wicked grin and the crowd ERUPT with boos.

    Styles: WHAT!?

    Heyman: I - I don’t get this, Joey!

    Styles: Oh my God, I don’t believe what I’m seeing!!

    The crowd’s booing intensifies and Sickness takes Winter’s hand and HELPS him to his feet! Both men shake hands and raise each other’s hands to the crowd who ROAR back their disapproval.

    Styles: This isn’t right! Tell me, this isn’t right!

    Heyman: HAHAHAHAAAA!! They were in cahoots all along, Joey! Arron Winter is a genius! A freakin’ GENIUS I tells ya!

    Styles: What happens now with this match? I don’t get it!?

    In the maelstrom, Arron Winter is thrown a mic and starts laughing in to it, and the booing of the crowd intensifies even more!

    Winter: Ring the bell, I have an announcement!

    The time-keeper looks at the referee, who gives him a shrug and blank look back at him.



    Crowd: BOOOOOO!!!

    Winter: (still huffing and puffing a bit) Ladies and gentlemen, the winners of this match, by result of a Technicality…

    Crowd: Boooooooo!!

    Styles: A what? A technicality? What technicality?

    Winter: And NEEWWWWWW TWOStars Taaaa-aag Team Champions….Sickness and ARRRRRON…WINNNN…TERRRRRR!!!

    Styles: Oh, what a crock!

    Heyman: This night is getting better and better, Joey! :lol:

    Styles: What the hell is going on here!?

    Outside the ring, Edward Samson seems to have taken exception to Winter’s announcement, too. He slowly, deliberately, walks up the ring-steps and gets in the ring. Winter sees this.

    Winter: Stay where you are, Samson. I SAID STAY WHERE YOU ARE!!

    The crowd boo a lot now, even more then they just were. Lucas Thorp is looking extremely angry and begins making his way down to the ring and walks up those same ring-steps that Samson just climbed, only he doesn’t get in the ring.

    Winter: Referee, pass me those Tag Titles and raise our hands.

    Styles: The ref just stares blankly at Winter, more out of confusion than anything else.

    Winter: DO IT!!!

    The ref just shrugs his shoulders, grabs both belts, slides into the ring and nervously hands one to Winter and the other to Sickness, who by now has bitten his own tongue and is bleeding. Blood is running down his chin and is dripping on his white t-shirt.

    Styles: Things have gone very bad, very quickly, folks. I’m nervous. I’m actually nervous because I don’t now what the hell is going on here. Sickness has just turned on Boyo, and Arron Winter has just proclaimed himself a Tag Team Champion with Sickness

    Heyman: This is great!

    Styles: Is it? Look at Sickness just standing there, Paul. Just look at him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s completely shot away and in a dark place right now.

    Winter takes control of the mic once more. He has to talk over the crowd’s booing.

    Winter: And, just like that, the entire world is turned on its head. From the ashes of the two greatest tag teams ever seen in TWOStars, The Dark Alliance and The New Blood, stand - united at last - the two remaining survivors.

    Crowd: BOOOO!

    Winter smirks…

    Winter: And if you thought tonight was wild, you haven’t seen anything yet!

    Styles: What does that mean?

    Winter hands Sickness the mic. The Mini Monster looks down at Boyo, who has by now recovered his senses, and just looks dazed and confused at what’s going on. Boyo is pleading with Sickness, “I thought we were a team, Mr Sickness?”. Sickness merely sneers.

    Sickness: No, Mr Boyo. We are not a team any more. We stopped being a team a long time ago.

    Boyo just looks confused, he’s convinced Sickness has been brainwashed or summat!!

    Sickness: The Dark Alliance died a long time ago, Mr Boyo - it’s just a pity that you never saw that.

    Boyo (not in to a mic, but being picked up by a ringside mic): Died? What? Mr Sickness, come on, man - we’re a team!


    The crowd boo loudly as Winter just laughs and Boyo looks at Winter, and then accuses Winter of brainwashing his tag team partner.

    Sickness: No, Mr Winter didn’t do this to us, Mr Boyo. YOU DID!! YOU are the one who, when the going was rough for The Dark Alliance, left me alone to deal with the unstable Mr Twig, and took your “managerial” role SOOOOO seriously that you didn’t show up at ringside to support us, or to offer advice, for nearly SIX MONTHS!!

    Styles: Well, Boyo was injured Sickness, surely you can see that!?

    Heyman: Torn shoulder, broken arm, all kinds of knee ligament damage, fused discs in his back…

    Sickness: And then, when there’s gold on the line, and a main event at a huge Pay Per View going begging, you think you can just waltz right in here, wrestle like a fragile old cretin, let me take multiple head-shots and one HELL of a beating from Mr Winter and then get back in the ring…WHEN I HAVE DAMN NEAR KILLED MYSELF TONIGHT…FOR YOU!!!!…And just take all the glory? All the spoils? ALL THE HONOUR!!? DO YOU!?

    Boyo just looks slightly forlorn at Sickness. All of a sudden, Boyo looks really old. Sickness’ voice suddenly becomes ultra calm, devoid of emotion, and a little shrill, as he sneers at Boyo.

    Styles: What’s he gonna do..?

    Sickness: Ashes to ashes…dust to -

    Styles: NO!!


    Sickness just clocks Boyo right in the face with a soccer-style kick which knocks The Welsh Wizard out cold. The crowd ERUPT in booing as Sickness throws the mic to the floor and he and Winter raise their arms to the crowd, holding aloft their title belts.

    Styles: Someone get the EMT’s down here!! GET THEM DOWN HERE! Boyo’s not moving!

    Heyman: So is that it!? Is The Dark Alliance finished?

    Styles: It looks like it, Paul E.

    Heyman: Heh heh, brilliant!

    Styles: It’s not “brilliant” at all! This is the end of one of the greatest tag team dynasties we’ve ever seen!

    Heyman: And the start of a new one!

    Styles: Yeah, this…this, twisted partnership we’ve just seen formed between Sickness and Arron Winter…who have also just proclaimed themselves the tag-team champions.

    Heyman: They deserve it, I reckon :p.

    Styles: Three years ago, at this very event, on this very day, The Dark Alliance beat The Judge and Jimmy Redman in a Flaming Tables match for the Tag Team Titles…three years on and Sickness, not doubt egged on by Arron Winter, has just done the unthinkable!

    Winter and Sickness go to exit the ring. Sickness gets out firstly, and rolls out underneath the bottom rope. Winter is just about to follow, but Edward Samson grabs him by the shoulder and stops him, gesturing that one of the Tag Titles should be his, seeing as he was - probably - technically on the winning side tonight.

    Styles: Uh-oh, now we have a situation, folks…

    Heyman: Uh-huh, Edward Samson wants his title, and it doesn’t look like Winter is going to be able to just leave on his own accord!

    Winter, by now full of his own self-importance, calmly shoves Samson in the head, in a “get your stinkin’ hands offa me!” kinda way. The crowd react.

    Crowd: Ohhh!

    Styles: He shouldn’t have shoved him, Paul. Winter shouldn’t have shoved Samson like that!

    Winter just looks coldly at Winter, right in the eye, and shoves the Big Estonian back.

    Heyman: Go on, Arron, give him a pasting!

    Styles: Give me a break :rolleyes2:!

    Heyman: It can be arranged, Joey Styles.

    Winter just shoves Samson back and the two men go nose-to-nose, neither man giving an inch. The crowd goes slightly tense. They know Samson should probably win, but with what’s gone down tonight, they aren’t so sure.

    Styles: We’ve got ourselves a good ol’ fashioned stare-down, folks, between our Triple Crown Champion and the new self-proclaimed Tag Team Champion. Neither man are backi-OUTTA NOWHERE! SICKNESS WITH A STEEL CHAIR!!

    Heyman: A-Hahhahahaaaaaa!! A steel chair is the great equaliser, Joey!

    Edward Samson stumbles forward after being whacked around the back of the head with that chair.


    Sickness hits him again, and Samson drops to one knee.




    Styles: And The Triple Crown Champion is down! Sickness has not only decimated Boyo with a kick to the head, but now he’s just taken a steel chair to Edward Samson.

    Heyman: And Sickness and Winter aren’t finished yet, Joey!

    With Samson down, Winter and Sickness start kicking him, stomping on him, and stamping on his head, among other things. The crowd are relentless in their booing, and some even start willing Samson to get to his feet.

    Styles: What has got in to these two tonight? They are complete animals!

    Boyo gets to his feet and attacks Winter, and then Sickness, who both quickly get out of the ring and head up the aisle. Suddenly, “Down With The Sickness” by Disturbed kicks in and the place erupts in a chorus of booing. Sickness and Winter each hold a Tag Title in their hands and raise it aloft.

    Styles: There you are folks, after one of TWOStars’ best pay-per-views of the year, a truly, truly shocking climax. Sickness - I cannot believe it - has turned on Boyo, accusing him of abandoning him during this past year and only being in it when there’s gold on the line -

    Heyman: Hey, Sickness probably has a point, y’know!

    Styles: But then to join forces with his old enemy, Arron Winter, formerly of The New Blood and to simply proclaim themselves the Tag Team Champions…words cannot express the feeling of shock here tonight. A dynasty has been broken for ever.

    Heyman: RIP The Dark Alliance. I created you in 2004, and I watched you fall apart in 2008, hah hah haaaa!!

    The camera goes back to Boyo, who has just helped Edward Samson to his feet after his steel chair beat-down. Boyo can be seen saying “you ok?” to Samson who just looks at the floor, unresponsive, possibly in shame.

    Heyman: And now what? Boyo to form a tag team with Edward Samson and begin a feud with Sickness and Winter..?

    Styles: Hey, I for on would love to watch that match! Boyo and Samson vs. Winter and Sickness. Wow! That’s an amazing match!

    Samson is finally steady on his feet and Boyo has his arm around him. The crowd are cheering loudly for this. Well, they were until…


    Styles: NO!

    Edward Samson delivers a wonderfully gruesome reverse elbow to the ear of Boyo that fells the Welshman immediately. Lucas Thorp, who has appeared on the stage once more, can be seen laughing his head off, and beckons Samson to him. “Down With The Sickness” by Disturbed cuts out and is replaced with “The Line Begins To Blur” by Nine Inch Nails. The crowd boo the actions of Edward Samson as he exit’s the ring and skulks back up the aisle, no doubt nursing the wounds suffered from the attack by Sickness and Winter after the match.

    Styles: Well, that’s all for tonight, folks! And what a show we’ve just witnessed! The dissipation of The Dark Alliance! The forming of a new alliance between the “new Tag Team Champions” Arron Winter and Sickness, and Edward Samson taking out Boyo, leaving him looking shocked and confused in the middle of that ring.

    Heyman: Don’t you just love this industry, Joey Styles!? :lol:

    The final scene is of Boyo sitting back up in the middle of the ring, Nine Inch Nails still playing, and Boyo rubbing his head, clearing the cobwebs, and wondering what the HELL just happened!?
  9. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000
    TG: Lucian joined us at the start of 2009 and in just over two years has broken records and sealed streaks that are unlikely to ever be beaten.

    WEB: That’s right – he’s the longest reigning Triple Crown champion ever with an amazing eight month reign and is one half of the longest reigning Tag champions ever with a just as astounding seven month long reign.

    TG: You know when Jones gets his hands on gold, he’s in it for the long run.

    WEB: Think about that – he’s been in the company for more or less 26 months and for more than half of those he’s been a champion of some sort.

    TG: He was also one of the biggest helps in the fight against the Consortium which saw him win over many fans and the General Manager as well.

    WEB: But tonight we’re going to look at the feud that put him on the map.

    TG: Further than that, the match that really made people sit up and take notice.

    WEB: Lucas Thorp and Lucian L. Jones had grown to dislike each other as much as two men can – and at Redemption 2009, we saw the Lord Justice’s Executioner face off against Lucian in a “Jonestown Street Fight”.

    TG: It was the first of its and the only thing we knew is that it had absolutely no rules...

    WEB: Little did we know exactly what that would end up entailing.

    TG: Both men risked their lives and well-being in the match, and to be honest, I don’t want to waste any more time putting off you getting to see it one more time...

    TWOstars – Redemption 2009
    (Jonestown Street Fight)
    Lucian L. Jones VS Edward Samson​

    The Cologne crowd go wild, cheering for what they’ve seen happen so far tonight, and what is still to come. The camera floats over the crowd, before coming to a rest at the announce position…

    JR: Are you ready for what’s shaping up to be one hell of a slobberknocker folks? Up next, in one of the most heated rivalries I’ve ever experienced, The King of Bling, Lucian L. Jones takes on the Unstoppable Murder Machine, Edward Samson in the first ever Jonestown Streetfight!

    A graphic appears, showing Jones on one side, and the fearsome figure of Edward Samson flanked by cackling Lord Justice on the other.

    JR: This all began as a prank turned bad, and…well we’ll let you take a look for yourselves at how this one went from nought to nasty in a short space of time…

    We cut to a hype video for the upcoming first-ever match. We start with XTV 4:48, and Lucian offering an apology to Lucas Thorp…

    The screen greys out and becomes grainy, sounds of white noise and static interfering with the picture slightly…

    The screen fades to black as the static and white noise die out…

    The screen fires back into colour and begins to speed through highlights, as “Line of Fire” by Exploder blasts in the background.

    [youtube]<object width="640" height="505"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zH9dJFE5mW4&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zH9dJFE5mW4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="505"></embed></object>[/youtube]

    As the recap continues, Darkstar’s proclamation can be heard over the clips…

    A graphic appears on the screen reading “JONES 1 SAMSON 0”

    The graphic reappears, this time reading “JONES 1 SAMSON 1”

    Once again the “JONES 1 SAMSON 1” graphic appears.

    The graphic appears again, but guess what it says this time? That’s right, “JONES 1 SAMSON 2”

    The graphic appears for one final time, this time showing “JONES 3 SAMSON 2”.

    We cut back to the arena, and the atmosphere in the crowd is electric.

    JR: Well it has certainly been a long road to Redemption for both Lucian L. Jones and Edward Samson, but that road ends tonight! There’s more than just bragging rights on the line in this one folks, so without further ado let’s take you over to Tony Chimel for our introductions.

    Chimel is stood in the centre of the ring, microphone in hand, which he raises to his lips…

    TC: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a JONESTOWN STREET FIGHT…

    The crowd pop for this announcement, ready to witness this spectacle for the very first time.


    The lights dim, and some members of the crowd start to cheer, more than aware of who’s about to make their entrance.

    A shower of golden sparks cascade down from the very roof of the arena, scattering onto the entrance ramp far below…

    [youtube]<object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oFCOP8G1R8A&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oFCOP8G1R8A&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>[/youtube]

    TC: …Introducing first, hailing from Jonestown, and weighing in this evening at 237lbs. He is The King of Bling, The Sultan of Swagga, The Duke of Jonestown…LUCIAN L. JONES!!

    As “Slam” kicks in, Lucian appears in an explosion of gold, blue, and white pyro.


    Instead of the usual theatrics and knuckle bumping, Lucian simply strides out onto the entrance ramp, eyes aflame with malicious intent.

    JR: The look on the face of Lucian L. Jones will tell you everything you need to know about what this match means to him tonight folks!

    PH: All the mean and moody looks in the world mean nothing if you’re unable to back them up, and Jones has shown me nothing to prove he’s able to handle himself in this kind of situation!

    JR: Well Jones requested this specific match, the Jonestown Street Fight, and from his attire tonight he looks like he’s fully aware of what he’s gotten himself into.

    Sure enough, instead of the flashy ring gear that Lucian usually wears, The Sultan of Swagga is tonight dressed in jeans with heavy-duty kneepads over the top, a fetching pair of custom “Legendary” Ecko Unltd trainers, and a cut off “Don’t You Know Who I Am?” shirt. Wearing his elbow pads, and his hands heavily taped, The Duke of Jonestown also carries a chair with him, the slogan “Welcome to Jonestown, BITCH!” emblazoned across the seat.

    PH: I’ll give you the fact that Jones looks like he’s here to fight, but do you honestly think for a second that he has the ability to deal with the threat of Edward Samson tonight?

    JR: Honestly Paul? Yes, yes I do. I don’t think we’ve been witness to half of what this young man has the potential to deliver.

    Lucian has made his way about half-way down the ramp, distractedly slapping hands and bumping knuckles with his free hand, before turning back to look at the backstage curtain. You can almost see the lightbulb come on in Lucian’s head as an idea strikes him.

    PH: What’s he up to now?

    Lucian heads back up towards the entrance and hides at the far side of the stage, just out of sight.

    JR: If Lucian’s doing what I think he’s doing, then this is just a little of the resourcefulness I can see developing in this youngster.

    Pendulum fades out, only to be replaced by the pounding rhythm of “The Line Begins to Blur” blasts forth from the arena’s P.A. system. Strobe lighting flickers across the whole building…

    [youtube]<object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NAU0bBuBXMA&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NAU0bBuBXMA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>[/youtube]


    …and the crowd launches a volley of hate in the direction of the emerging Lucas Thorp.

    PH: And here we go! I cannot wait to see Samson finish this within seconds!

    JR: Now I can’t see that happening at all!

    Thorp gestures to the curtain, beckoning his man. Responding directly to his master’s command, The Executioner appears, his noose in hand. He strides purposefully through the curtain, as the booing of the crowd continues to rain down.


    Edward and Thorp have made it a quarter of the way down the ramp, when Lucas suddenly realises something isn’t quite right. He looks around him, knowing something isn’t how it should be, but he can’t quite put his finger on it…

    Suddenly it dawns on him, their opponent is nowhere to be seen. Lucas’s epiphany arrives just too late, as he turns in horror to find Lucian bearing down behind Edward, the chair in his hands raised high over his head. Lucas opens his mouth to warn his charge, but no sound comes out…



    The steel of the chair crashes into the back of Edward’s head, sending him down to the metal ramp way. Referee Charles Robinson quickly slides out of the ring and dashes up to the ramp towards both competitors, calling for the bell on his way.




    And this one’s underway before we’ve even made it down to the ring folks!

    PH: If this is setting the tone for the rest of the match then I hope they’ve preordered the ambulances!!

    Lucian throws the chair down to the ramp, and turns his attention from Edward to the now cowering Lucas Thorp.

    JR: Look at the look in the eyes of The King of Bling! Jones is like a man possessed!

    Sure enough, Lucian’s eyes are aflame with anger, and he stalks towards where Thorp is now backing away up the ramp. Lucian reaches out and snatches the tubby Lord Justice by his collar, dragging him in for the bitchslapping of a lifetime. Lucas squirms and twists against the grip of Jones, but is unable to break himself free. Now standing almost face-to-face, Lucian begins to shout into the face of Thorp…



    And Jones wasted too much time with Thorp there, giving The Executioner plenty of opportunity to recover.

    PH: It’s those rookie mistakes again Jim! You’d have thought Lucian would have learnt by now that it takes more than one chair shot to keep a monster like Edward down!

    Samson has had plenty o time to recover from Lucian’s sneak attack, and has now gripped the Duke of Jonestown by the back of the hair.


    The noise of Edward’s forehead clattering into the back of Lucian’s skull reverberates around the am-packed arena.



    Oof! And once more Samson drives that cannonball-like skull of his into the back of Jones’ head! Jones legs are starting to give way already!


    With the third head butt Edward pitches Lucian down the ramp, sending the Jonestown Warrior rolling over and over, down towards the ring.


    Lucas has now had time to recompose himself, and is right back to barking orders at his man. We can very clearly se Thorp point at Edward’s chain noose, then down in the direction of where Lucian is desperately trying to rearrange his scrambled brains. Edward needs little encouragement, and stomps off in the direction of Lucian, the noose slung around his huge shoulders.

    JR: I don’t know exactly what Samson and Thorp have planned here, but there is no way this is going to end well for Lucian L. Jones!

    PH: I told you Jim, Samson’s going to have this finished within a few short moments!

    Edward uses one hand to grab the Afro of Lucian (he should really think about getting that cut!), but The Sultan of Swagga starts to throw desperation right hands to the midsection of Samson.


    JR: You were saying Paul? It looks like there’s plenty of fight left in this young man.

    No sooner are JR’s words uttered, Edward raises a huge knee into the guts of Jones, lifting the Master of Metaphysics high off the ground, and leaving him doubled over, wheezing for breath.

    PH: What was that you were saying J.R?

    As Lucian continues to gasp on all fours, Edward slips the end of the noose over the head of Jones.


    Good God no! This can’t be legal!?

    PH: It’s Jones’ own fault! He wanted a fight with no rules, and no he has to pay the consequences!!

    Even Thorp has got in on the action, planting his patented Italian leather shoes into the ribs and gut of Jones, as Edward climbs onto the ring apron, chain in hand. The Dead-Eyed Killer straddles the top rope, stepping into the ring, and leaving the chain stretching across the top rope and down to ringside, where it is wrapped around the throat of Lucian. With a yank, the chain is pulled taut, and Edward starts to drag Lucian up and away from the floor below.


    Lucian tries to struggle against the pull of The Executioner, but by this point his feet are barely touching the floor. To make maters worse, Thorp has now decided to get in the face of The Jonestown Warrior, letting him know exactly what he thinks of Lucian’s chances.

    JR: This is inhuman!! Someone needs to stop this!

    PH: The third world needs water, and my kids new school shoes, it doesn’t mean that they’re going to get it!!

    Lucas turns to face the crowd, and really rub their noses in it. The scene is horrific, a cackling Lucas Thorp stood just in front of where Samson is hanging the bug-eyed King of Bling, pontificating to the crowd. Edward heaves again with a mighty strain, and pulls Lucian clean up off the ring mats, leaving him dangling on the end of the chain. A look of abject horror crosses the face of Lucian, who switches from clutching at the chain to desperately grabbing at the edge of where the ring apron meets the canvas.

    PH: What’s Jones doing? There’s nothing under there that’ll help him.

    JR: I wouldn’t be so sure Paul…

    Lucian eyes light up as he has obviously managed to find what he was desperately scrabbling for. From beneath the edge of the apron Lucian has managed to retrieve…


    Bolt cutters!! Jones must have hidden them out here earlier! I told you this young man was resourceful!

    Lucas is still distracted by his preaching to the crowd, and doesn’t notice Jones placing the cutters around the chain that Edward is holding. Using all his might Lucian squeezes the handles together…

    PH: He hasn’t got the strength to break this chain! It’s too little too late!!

    Lucian once more squeezes the handles together as hard as he can, the crowd chanting to try and get behind him.

    LE-GEN-DARY!! *clap clap clapclapclap*

    LE-GEN-DARY!! *clap clap clapclapclap*

    Lucian squeezes harder, knowing this is his last chance to escape this predicament…



    He did it! Jones broke that chain!

    Using every bit of his very being, Lucian manages to cut through the chain, dropping him to the arena floor. Edward, no longer having any resistance pulling against him, falls backwards onto his a*s in the middle of the ring, unsure of what just happened. Lucian quickly unwraps the remaining chain from around his neck, and starts to gulp down sweet life-giving air into his lungs. After 1 or 2 seconds of this Lucian looks up to discover Thorp still has no idea of what just happened.

    PH: Turn around Lucas!!

    Lucian reaches out to grip the still cackling Thorp; his left hand approaches the Lord Justice’s shoulder, as his right holds the pair of bolt cutters aloft.

    PH: Don’t turn around Lucas!!

    Lucian gets closer and closer, the audience collectively not wanting to do anything to make Thorp aware of his precarious situation…


    God damn that Executioner!! Lucas Thorp narrowly avoids yet another beating from Jones!

    Edward has realized exactly what’s going on, and has reached between the middle and top rope, and has once more gripped The Sultan of Swagga by his overly abundant locks.


    Quick as a flash Lucian raises the bolt cutters and swings them full force, back over his own head, the metal cutters connecting with a sickening SMACK to the top of the head of the Executioner.

    JR: Bah Gawd!! Have you ever heard such an impact?

    Edward slumps between the ropes, hanging half in and half out of the ring. Lucian seizes this opportunity and grips both sides of the hood of Edward, lifting the Executioners head up and driving it down hard against the edge of the apron.


    Well it’s certainly not pretty, but that’s sure as hell effective!

    PH: Bolt cutters?! Are you kidding me?!

    JR: Try and keep up Paul.

    Lucian grabs Edward, and drags his stunned frame out between the ropes, and leaves him to drop messily to the ringside mats. Realising he has Edward down for a couple of seconds, Lucian tries to make the cover…


    Falls count anywhere here folks!



    Thorp stamps onto the back of Jones, breaking the count, and there’s not a damn thing anyone can do about it!

    Lucian stands over the still dazed Executioner, glaring purposefully in Thorp’s direction. Lucas wastes no time in running (well waddling) away from Lucian and back up the entrance ramp as quickly as possible.

    JR: And look at piggy run!!

    Somewhat surprisingly, Thorp manages to make it all the way up to the stage area before being caught by Lucian. Completely surprisingly Thorp comes out fighting in this instance and adopts man’s earliest known defence mechanism, kicking Lucian straight in the ‘nads.


    The Duke of Jonestown crumples onto the entrance ramp, curled up in a ball of agony, as Lucas waddles as fat as his little legs can carry him to where Edward is now pulling himself up using a guard rail.

    PH: Ha! Brilliant! Maybe that’ll teach Jones to stop trying to push The Lord Justice around!

    Lucian has rolled over onto all fours, coughing hard, a hand checking that everything is still intact. Down at ringside Lucas has managed to revive his weary Executioner, who has started pacing up the ramp in Jones’ direction.

    JR: Jones needs to get to his feet, or he’ll find himself in a very bad place very quickly!

    Edward continues to advance in Lucian direction, as The Sultan of Swagga tries to get to his feet. Exerting a huge amount of effort, Jones manages to stand just in time to be smashed in the face by the massive right hand of Edward Samson.


    Woo! He nearly knocked his block off with that one! This is why Jones can’t defeat Samson, Jones is a normal guy, he tires, he loses energy. Edward Samson is relentless; he’s the Unstoppable Murder Machine for a reason JR! The longer this goes on, the more this will turn in Samson’s favour. He’s the more experienced man, and he’s a former Triple Crown champion. Jones has bitten off more than he can fit in his mouth, let alone chew!!

    Edward grips the weary King of Bling and rams him head first into the nearest piece of stage set.


    Maintaining his hold, Edward runs Lucian across the stage and pitches him through the backstage curtain, sending Jones flying out of sight.


    Edward storms through the curtain himself, Lucas Thorp following closely behind. We’re treated a couple of seconds of the empty ramp-way before switching over to the announce position.

    JR: Well we were told that this one could go anywhere at anytime, and we’re trying to get cameras backstage so we can continue to show you the rest of this Jonestown Streetfight.

    PH: Hurry up! Samson could have already won!

    The TWOtron fires into life, and the folks at home cut to a backstage corridor, where Lucian crawls into shot, blood trickling from a small cut above his left eye.

    JR: Dear God! What happened?

    Rounding the corner just behind Lucian, Edward Samson strides into shot, chair in hand. The chair is already slightly dented, suggesting it may have had more than a little to do with the cut on Lucian’s face.

    PH: I missed it! Awww!

    Thorp wobbles round the corner, barking commands to The Dead-Eyed Killer.


    Edward raises the chair above his head, and thumps it down onto the back of Jones, spread-eagling him on the floor.

    PH: Oww! That’s got to hurt!

    Somehow Lucian is still trying to get away, dragging his body down the corridor. Edward continues to stalk his prey, the chair held aloft and ready to strike. Lucas starts to shout at Lucian.



    Lucian has now made it back up to all fours, and is once more crawling along the corridor, though to what or where is unclear.

    LT: That’s it Jones! Crawl! Crawl away with your tail between your legs!

    Lucian has crawled to the end of the corridor, and has now slipped back on his knees and is leaning against the wall. It almost looks like he’s using his body to hide something from view. Having a quick glance around him Lucian notices the door to the parking lot, the elevator, and a couple of cables. Realising there’s not really anywhere else to go, Lucian resigns himself to staying slumped against the wall. Or so it appears anyway.

    Thorp continues to taunt Jones, picking some fruit and assorted other goodies from a nearby buffet table and throwing them at Lucian.

    LT: Here’s your last meal Jones! Enjoy it while you have chance, for soon it will all be over!

    Lucas bends down (somehow) and picks up a part of the cabling, wrapping it around his hands in a menacing fashion. Edward also continues to advance, chair in hand, ready to attack should the situation warrant it.

    JR: This doesn’t look good for Jones!

    PH: There’s no escape Jim! Look at him, he’s given up, he’s just waiting for the final blow!

    Thorp and Samson are both within a couple of feet of Lucian, both of them clutching their respective weaponry, ready to put it to use. As they edge forwards, Lucian spins round unleashing the entire contents of the fire extinguisher he was hiding into the faces of both Thorp and Samson.


    Where did that come from?!

    JR: I don’t know Paul, but I can’t fault the planning or the application!

    In the confusion of the cloud of Carbon Dioxide, Lucian seizes his opportunity to pick up the extinguisher and…


    …drives it into the head of Samson. The Executioner falls like a felled tree, crashing to the ground. Lucian is down for the cover, Charles Robinson taking a second to find somewhere to make the count.


    No way…




    And again Thorp saves his man from what could of quite easily been defeat.

    PH: And that’s another reason that Jones won’t win! He’s got to incapacitate both Samson and Thorp to make the pin!

    Almost as if responding to Heyman’s words, Lucian stands and looks over in Thorp’s direction. Lucas turns to find Edward still away with the fairies on the floor below him, and seemingly nowhere to run to. Lucian grins as he grabs Thorp by the jacket and pulls him in close.

    JR: Uh-oh, looks like Lucian heard you Paul!

    PH: Someone wake Edward up, quickly! Do you think I’d make it back there in time?

    JR: (laughs) Not at all!

    Lucian wastes no time with clever catchphrases, him simply lays a hefty right-handed slap across the face of Thorp, who falls limp in Lucian’s grip.


    Lucian smiles to himself, and lets Lucas fall to the floor.

    JR: And that has been a long time coming folks! How good do you think that felt for Jones?

    Casually pressing the elevator call button, Lucian heads over and picks up some of the cables, unclipping a few to give him a couple of yards of wiring to play with. After delivering a couple more stomps to the back of Samson’s head, Lucian swaggers (as much as he’s able to) over to where Thorp is slowly coming back to consciousness. Lucian rolls the portly pain in the a*s onto his front, pulling his arms behind him.

    PH: You don’t think he’s going to…

    Lucian loops the cord, and pulls it round Thorp’s hands, binding them together.

    JR: He most certainly is!

    Lucian quickly loops the cable around the ankles of Thorp, and pulls the cord tight. Thorp’s legs rise up behind him, his hands tightly bound to them. Lucian wraps another couple of loops around his wrists and ankles, securing Thorp into place.

    JR: The easiest way to stop Thorp interrupting is to take him out of the equation altogether! Lucian L. Jones has hog-tied piggy Thorp!

    Lucian ties off the cable just as the lift arrives, it’s doors opening to reveal Lucas’ fate. This sight seems to bring The Lord Justice back from the land of nod, and he immediately starts to protest.


    LLJ: In the words of my man Barack…YES WE CAN!!

    Lucian drags Thorp into the elevator, and steps out, pressing the button for the top floor on the way out.


    The elevator doors begin to close, much to the delight of the crowd in attendance.

    PH: You can’t do this! Lucas Thorp isn’t a wrestler!

    JR: But he is an almighty pain in the rear!

    At the last second Lucian stops the doors from closing, forcing them back open. Lucas looks up at Lucian, somewhat gratefully.

    LT: I knew you couldn’t go through with it! I knew you wouldn’t be so mean.

    Lucian bends down and picks up one of the earlier thrown apples, shoving it into Thorp’s mouth, before once again hitting the top floor button and standing back. The elevator doors close as Lucian stands waving at the apple gagged Lord Justice disappearing from view. The doors close, and the elevator begins it’s journey upwards.


    So long Lucas Thorp! Now maybe we can have a fair end to this!

    Lucian dusts off his hands, clapping them together and feeling immensely pleased with himself. He turns to find Edward charging towards him, and for not the first time Lucian can do nothing but brace himself for impact…



    Edward shoulder barges Lucian back into the metal doors of the elevator shaft with excessive force. The King of Bling slides down the door, until he is sitting slumped against it. Edward launches himself forwards, the sole of his boot searching for Lucian’s face.


    Luckily Edward’s foot connects with nothing but the elevator doors, denting them. Lucian manages to get to his knees, lunging upwards and gripping Edward by the waist, charging The Executioner back across the corridor.


    Both men crash through the door, and sprawl out onto the concrete floor of the parking lot, splintered wood and broken glass surrounding them.


    JR: As much as I dispute the terminology, I have to agree with the sentiment of these fans!

    Both Lucian and Edward roll over and onto all fours, slowly making their way to their feet.

    JR: And how are these men still fighting?

    PH: They’re going to kill each other! That’s the only way I can see this one ending!

    Lucian staggers over, throwing a huge right handed punch to the head of Samson.


    Samson responds with a punch of his own.


    Followed by another punch from Lucian.


    Followed by another from The Executioner.


    The tide continues to switch back and forth between these men! We know they both came here tonight to fight, but no-one could have expected this?!

    Lucian throws another punch, only to have it blocked by the huge forearm of The Dead-Eyed Killer. Samson pulls Jones up onto his shoulder, in running powerslam position.

    JR: Oh no! Is Samson looking to deliver The Last Mile to Jones?

    PH: Oh please say he is!!

    Edward takes off running across the parking lot, with Lucian kicking and squirming on his shoulder.

    JR: Jones is trying to fight his way out of it!

    Lucian manages to tip the balance of Edward, and slides off The Executioner’s back. Maintaining the speed, Lucian pushes The Executioner from behind, charging him at and through the pedestrian door for the parking lot.



    Yet another broken door surrounds the grounded Jones and Samson, and the pair of them lay breathing deeply in the warm dusk air.

    PH: How much more are they gonna destroy? I hope you realise this is the reason we won’t be getting a pay rise this year! The damage this pair has caused over the last few months has got to run into thousands!

    Samson is first to his feet, dragging Jones up by his hair, and throwing him into the nearest concrete wall. Still not satisfied, The Executioner once more drags Jones to his feet, and walks him away around the perimeter of the building. The camera tries to follow, but the signal becomes grainy and cuts off, leaving us in the dark as to the competitor’s whereabouts.


    We cut back over to the announce position, where Paul Heyman is banging his monitor, trying desperately to get it to bring more footage to him.

    JR: Sorry folks, we’ve had a little technical difficulty, but rest assured we are doing our utmost to get a camera to wherever Samson and Jones have ended up!

    Ross holds a finger to his ear, receiving messages through his earpiece.

    JR: I’m being told…we’ve got a camera on it’s way!

    The TWOtron once more flickers into life, and the crowd turns to face it.


    The shot is a cameraman running through the main entrance lobby of the arena, throngs of cheering fans are stood around the merchandising stalls, buying shirts, drinks, and programmes. The camera looks around to no avail when suddenly…



    The camera spins to see Lucian leaning against one of the many large pieces of glass that make up the entrance. The camera dashes over to where Lucian is on the other side of the glass, only to see over The King of Bling’s shoulder the rapidly approaching Edward Samson. The cameraman moves out of the way just in time…


    JR: Samson has charged at Jones and used all his weight and velocity to drive both men through those glass plates at the front of this building!

    Jones and Samson lie surrounded by shards of broken glass, both men writhing in agony. The fans stop shelling out their hard earned cash, and turn their attention to the two men on the floor in front of them.


    And there go my expenses for this year! Someone has to stop these two!

    JR: And how would you suggest we do that?

    PH: Tranquilise them or something? They both deserve to be locked away!

    Edward starts to slowly drag himself through the shattered glass, over to where Lucian is lying. He drapes an arm over the bleeding Jonestown Warrior making the pin…

    PH: Why isn’t the referee counting?

    JR: It looks like Charles Robinson can’t find anywhere to get down to make the count?

    Edward has had Lucian covered for at least 3 seconds, but unfortunately (or fortunately depending on who’s side you’re on) the entire area is covered in broken glass leaving the referee nowhere to get down and check the pin.

    PH: Oh come on! Samson has got this thing won!

    Edward stands, the broken glass not seeming to bother the behemoth in the slightest. He lifts Lucian to his feet and starts to walk him through the merchandising area, as fans on all sides boo and pelt The Dead-Eyed Killer with a variety of foodstuffs.


    I cannot believe this is carrying on! Samson had Jones pinned!

    JR: It only counts if the referee can call it, but I have to wonder is that decision by the referee going to do Jones more harm than good?

    Edward seems to be taking some pleasure of bouncing the head of Lucian off of anything and everything as they make their way through the foyer, opening up the cut above the eyes of Jones, allowing the blood to flow a little more freely. To cap it off, Edward launches Lucian across the stall selling The King of Bling’s own merchandise, sending shirts, and various other memorabilia flying.


    Oh and that’s got to be the ultimate humiliation, being thrown through your own merch, and then being choked out with your own shirt!

    Edward has picked up one of the shirts littering the area, and wrapped it around the throat of Jones, pulling tight as he kneels on the spine of Lucian.

    JR: Samson is going to choke the damn life out of Jones!

    Lucian desperately scrabbles through the wrecked stall they are in the midst of, looking for anything that could aid his escape. His hand’s settling on something hard beneath a pile of t-shirts, Jones swings his hands up…



    Jones found a piece of that smashed stall, and used it to crack the skull of Edward Samson! My word, that was a sickening blow!

    Edward slumps back, releasing his grip on Lucian, who slumps forward gasping for breath. Charles Robinson looks down at both men, unsure of what to do in this situation. Neither man seems to be moving, but that doesn’t stop the fans in the foyer from trying to spur on Lucian.



    Jones starts to stir, and slowly, slooooowwwly starts to crawl over to where Samson is still lying in the mass of merch.


    Just look at the blood on the face of Lucian! The sooner this ends, the better in my opinion!

    Lucian slumps across Edward, making some semblance of a cover. Robinson gets down to make the count.





    Kickout by Samson! Bah Gawd, what is keeping these men going??

    PH: I think both men are running on pure instinct now JR! The only difference being Edward Samson’s primary instinct is to destroy!

    Lucian sits back on his knees holding his head in his hands. Removing his hands and looking down at them, Lucian notices the blood from his face. Wiping the excess from his eyes, a look of fury comes over him.

    JR: Uh-oh, it looks like someone may be getting a second wind!

    Lucian punches the floor in frustration, before determinedly getting to his feet. He staggers slightly, but manages to regain his balance.

    PH: Maybe not JR! That blood loss has got to be getting to Jones, and as we said earlier, the longer this one goes, the more it swings in the favour of Edward Samson!

    Lucian steadies himself, and walks over to where Edward has rolled onto his front. Reaching down to grab The Executioner by the mask, Lucian pulls The Hooded Killer to his feet. Jones runs Samson across the foyer, and smashes him into the edge of the staircase, The Executioners body making a wet THUMP as it hits the wall.


    Jones hasn’t finished yet!

    Keeping grip of Edward’s hood, Lucian bounces The Executioner’s skull off the railing in the middle of the staircase.


    Again Lucian refuses to relinquish his grip on the hood of Samson, dragging him up the stairs and onto the next level of the arena, out of the sight of the fans downstairs.

    JR: Where is there left for these men to go?

    The camera chases both men up the stairs, and finds Lucian heading towards the next staircase to head further up the building. Lucian bashes the head of Samson off the nearest wall, before once more rattling the brain of The Executioner, by smacking him into the railing in the centre of the staircase.

    JR: I’ve never seen this kind of aggression from Jones!

    PH: He’s realised that he can’t stop the attack on Samson for a second, this is the only way he’s going to survive this match!!

    Lucian picks up a nearby bin, emptying the contents over the floor. He lifts the receptacle up high, and drops it over the head of Samson, trapping him inside.


    Well that’s one way to subdue the beast!!

    As Edward staggers, blinded by the trashcan, Lucian climbs the stairs ad hops onto the centre railing. Sliding down the banister, Lucian sticks both feet out, hitting a kind of modified dropkick to Edward, sending the Executioner clattering into the wall opposite.


    An innovative attack by Jones there, what else does he have left in his bag of tricks?

    PH: What else could they possibly have?

    JR: I almost hate myself for mentioning it, but we haven’t seen either man hit their finisher as of yet. Samson tried for The Last Mile, but was unsuccessful in his attempt.

    Lucian pulls the bin from the torso of Samson, and covers him.




    Edward gets a shoulder up from the floor.


    Lucian again pounds the floor in frustration.

    PH: The King of Bling suddenly doesn’t seem so cool anymore, does he?

    JR: Well you can understand the young man’s frustration, but he needs to remain focused on the task at hand.

    Lucian gets to his feet, looking weary for all his exertions. He grabs the hood of Samson, and labouredly heaves the big man to his feet. Lucian starts to drag Samson up the next flight of stairs, making their way ever higher.

    PH: Now where are they going?

    The camera starts to follow the two men up the stairs, when suddenly Samson springs back to life. He fires heavy right and left hands to the back and kidneys of Jones, before gripping Lucian by his hair and tossing him backwards down the concrete steps.


    Jones bounces down the jagged staircase, finally coming to rest at the bottom of the steps, his body racked with pain.

    JR: Good God, in all my years I’ve had so many people ask if these fights are choreographed, and I can tell you most assuredly that these men do not practice falling down stairs! That’s as real as it gets folks, human flesh bouncing off concrete!

    PH: He’s gotta be done now! There is no way he’s surviving that kind of fall!

    Lucian is laying spark out at the bottom of the stairs, unmoving. Samson has started to descend the staircase, but the effects of the match have obviously taken their toll on The Executioner also.

    PH: Samson just needs to cover Jones now, and it’s all over!

    Samson makes his way slowly to the bottom of the stairs, before dropping onto Lucian, and hooking the leg. Charles Robinson drops to the ground, slapping the cold, hard concrete to make the count.




    Lucian barely, baaaaaarely manages to lift his right shoulder from the floor.


    Lucian L. Jones will not say die!! That word just doesn’t seem to exist in his vocabulary Paul!

    PH: Jones has put up a hell of a fight, and I’ve got to admit, I’ve got a little respect for the kid now. But he is not doing himself any favours by allowing this onslaught from Samson to continue! Just lie down kid!

    JR: You know as well as I do that just will not happen Paul! The young man set out to prove to everyone why the L stands for Legendary, and I’m starting to get behind this youngster!

    Lucian has once again rolled over onto his front, and tries desperately to pull himself away from Samson. Lucian slowly claws his way up the stairs, Samson in hot pursuit. The Executioner reaches out for the trailing left leg of Jones, and grips onto the ankle.

    PH: Uh-oh…


    The crowd cheers as Lucian shows there is still fight in him by landing right-footed stomps to the head and hood of Edward.

    JR: Jones continues to fight! He’s managed to shrug himself free of The Executioner’s grasp!

    Lucian desperately crawls up the remaining stairs, rounding the corner and disappearing out of sight. Edward shrugs off the fuzzy feeling the kicks in the face left him with, and climbs the stairs also, chasing after the fleeing Jonestown Warrior.

    PH: Now where?


    …And what the name of all that’s holy was that?!

    The camera moves awkwardly up the stairs and also rounds the corner to find Lucian slumped against a door marked “Staff Only”, the window pane in the centre cracked with the force that Edward has obviously flung Lucian into it with. Edward charges across the few short yards between him and Jones, looking to unleash another hellacious shoulder charge, and send The King of Bling through yet another door.



    Jones managed to avoid the contact, and Lucas Thorp’s Executioner has put himself through that pane of glass!!

    Edward is hung across the window frame of the door, his upper body and arms hang through one side, while his legs dangle out of the side we’re viewing from. Lucian is again on all fours, sucking in deep breaths, trying to regain the ability to stand up and fight.

    JR: Well I don’t know how much Jones knew about it, but the important thing is that he managed to avoid the attack by Samson, otherwise I dread to think what could have happened!

    Lucian pushes the door open hard, swinging Edward (who is still suspended in the window panel of the door) head first into the wall behind the door. Lucian staggers through and into hat appears to be the rafters above the arena. A spotlight shines up from far below, and Lucian peers over to see the amassed German crowd staring up into the very top of the arena, some 60-70 feet up.

    Looking above him, Jones notices a ladder leading up to a workman’s hatch that would appear to lead to the roof of the arena. Lucian begins to climb the ladder, a look of determination in his eyes. As he nears the upper rungs and hand reaches up to grab his ankle. Looking down, The Sultan of Swagga finds The Dead-Eyed Killer, trying to drag Jones back down to the rigging.

    JR: Surely not the roof? That has to be too much?

    PH: Jones isn’t getting anywhere near the roof if Samson has anything to do with it!

    Lucian starts to kick at Samson with his other leg, screaming down at The Unstoppable Murder Machine as he kicks.


    Lucian continues to kick at Edward’s head, forcing The Executioner to release his grip.


    Lucian climbs up the remaining few rungs and flings the hatch open. He climbs out through the hatch and off to the roof of the arena. Samson looks up at the hatch, before peering down at the crowd far below. Bathed in the glow of the spotlight, Edward looks back up at the hatch above.

    JR: For the love of God, is Edward Samson actually going to climb up there after Jones?


    I’m not sure what the fans here are chanting for?

    PH: If our producer’s knowledge of German is correct, I believe they’re saying “To the roof”?

    JR: Well it appears the fans are actually encouraging Samson to head to the very top of this building. But will he go?

    Samson reaches out and grips the ladder in one emotionless movement.


    Boy I hope this cameraman is getting paid extra for this match!

    Edward climbs the ladder to the roof, followed closely by the camera. At the top Samson disappears from view for a second, the cameraman having to climb the last few rungs. The camera makes it’s way through the hatch, and looks around at the empty roof of the arena for a second before panning across to find Samson and Jones both trading blows and slowly making way down toward the edge of the curved roof.

    PH: They’re still at it!?

    The camera approaches closer, as Lucian and Edward continue to drop bombs on each other. The camera pans back across to the hatch to see referee Charles Robinson hesitantly making his way out onto the roof. The camera angle changes to show that a cameraman has ran out from one of the production trucks and is filming from the parking lot, giving us a perspective of how high up the two men are.

    JR: What else can happen?

    The camera switches back to the cameraman on the roof, as Lucian swings at Edward, who ducks and snatches Lucian up and onto his shoulder, once more in running powerslam position.


    Samson charges down the roof, but once again Lucian manages to kick and squirm until he slides down Edward’s back. This time however Lucian keeps his arm wrapped around the head of The Executioner, dropping backwards into a reverse facelock.

    JR: Could it be?

    As soon as Lucian’s feet touch the floor, he leaps back over Samson’s shoulder flipping over and landing back first on the roof, driving Edward’s head into the steel plating.


    KTFO!! KTFO FROM JONES!! If I hadn’t seen it for myself, then I wouldn’t believe it!

    Both men are sprawled flat on their backs on roof, both breathing deeply, the amassed injuries of this battle overwhelming them both.

    PH: But Jones is unable to capitalise on the move! It’s no good hitting your finisher if you can’t put the man away afterwards.

    Both men continue to gasp, spread eagled. After a couple of seconds Lucian manages to roll over onto his front, and he starts the long arduous drag over to where Samson is lying. Lucian reaches his opponent and slumps back on top of him. Charles Robinson makes possibly the strangest count of his career.




    Samson powers his shoulder up from the canvas, knocking the stunned Jones up into a seated position.

    JR: How are they still going? How could Samson possibly have made such a forceful kickout from that?!

    PH: Simple, neither of these men are willing to lose. They are both willing to put themselves through anything to beat the other!

    Edward has (surprisingly quickly) got to his feet, and meets Lucian head on with a devastating punch that staggers The Duke of Jonestown.

    JR: I don’t understand how either of these men are standing?

    Samson lands another blow, which sends Lucian ever closer to the edge of the curved roof.

    JR: I do not like where this is going…

    Yet more blows from Edward rain down onto Jones, decreasing the distance between Lucian and a large drop more and more each second.

    JR: Surely even Edward Samson realizes this is too much!?

    PH: There is no such thing as “too much” for Thorp or Samson!

    Lucian has been backed up to the very edge of the roof now, and is teetering on the lip of the curved building. He looks behind him at the row of production trucks in the raised car park that must be some 35-40ft below. Edward launches another huge right hand in the direction of Lucian, who manages to duck underneath and nip in behind The Executioner. As Samson turns he finds himself on the wrong end of a neat left-handed jab from Jones.

    LLJ: DON’T…

    The jab rocks Edward back towards the edge of the building. As The Executioner tries to regain his senses, Lucian flicks out another left hand.

    LLJ: YOU…

    The force of the nest punch sends Edward reeling back, a few steps closer to the edge.

    LLJ: KNOW…

    Another jab connects.

    LLJ: WHO…

    And another.

    LLJ: I…

    And another.

    LLJ: AM!

    Edward is teetering on the edge of the roof, trying to keep his balance as Lucian winds up his trademark huge right hand.

    JR: Jones needs to think about the consequences of this action…

    LLJ: I’M LUCIAN L. J…uuurrrrrkkkk!

    As Lucian swings his clubbing right fist, Edward grabs Lucian by the throat and throws him from the roof. Lucian uses his free right hand to grip the shirt of Samson, pulling The Executioner over the edge with him. Both men fall through the air, seemingly in slow motion, as everyone watching holds their breath. The two men continue to tussle in mid air, before…


    Both men land on the top of one of the production trucks, crumpling in the trailer of it, blowing out the sides.



    Both Lucian and Edward slide down from the top of the dented trailer, their unconscious bodies bouncing off the concrete below, and coming to rest a few feet apart from each other.

    JR: Have you ever seen anything like that in your life?! In their quest to destroy each other, these two men may have destroyed themselves!! We need some medical assistance there and quick!

    The camera peers over the shoulder of Charles Robinson, still high up on the roof of the arena, and looks down at the carnage lying below. Next to the broken trailer lays Lucian and Edward, still not moving since the fall.

    JR: I’m not sure what to tell you folks? How does this match end? Surely neither of these men can continue? Charles Robinson is going to have to call off this match!

    The camera cuts to the parking lot, where another cameraman picks up a closer view of Lucian and Edward sprawled out on the concrete.

    JR: Thank the Lord, both men appear to be breathing…

    We cut to the roof where the cameraman is recording Charles Robinson climbing back down the hatch, ready to make the long journey to where both competitors are still down.

    JR: Surely Charles Robinson’s job is arbitrary now. There’s no way this fight can continue! Both men need to get to a hospital.

    PH: This is insane! We have to see this again!

    We’re treated to various camera angles of the death-defying dive from the roof. Every single angle shows that in the dying seconds of the fall, Lucian managed to land on top of Edward, Samson taking the main brunt of the impact.

    PH: It doesn’t get any easier to watch! In all my years, that is one of the craziest things I’ve ever seen!

    The sirens of the German medical services can be heard in the background, as the camera focuses on both men, neither of them moving still.

    JR: For the love of God, would somebody ring the bell and call the damn match!

    Charles Robinson comes running out of the parking lot door, followed by a number of the road agents, paramedics, security staff, and other backstage personnel. As he runs into the parking lot, the ambulances screech up, more medical staff pouring out of them, backboards in hand.

    JR: Finally we can end this and get these men seen to!

    The medical staff dash over to the injured wrestlers, while Charles Robinson gets a good look at either man to try and gauge their injuries. Just as Robinson lifts his arms to wave off the match, he is distracted by a tug at his trousers…


    …Lucian has reached up with one trembling hand, and looks the referee square in the eye. He shakes his head slowly before mouthing the word “Don’t” in Robinson’s direction. With this physical exertion, Lucian slumps back down to the ground breathing heavily.

    PH: Jones wants to carry on?! He’s nuts!!

    JR: Certainly an ill-advised idea on behalf of the youngster.

    Lucian uses all his effort to roll over onto his front, using a hand to try and uselessly swat away the gathering medical staff. Robinson gestures for the match to continue, and holds back the rest of the staff around him.

    JR: This is too much, how badly does Jones want this win? Some things just aren’t worth risking your livelihood for!!

    Lucian begins the slow drag over to where Edward lies. The strain is immense, The King of Bling dragging his bruised and battered body inch by painful inch to where his opponent waits. Edward still has not moved, the impact of the fall finally knocking the fight out of The Executioner.

    Slowly but surely Lucian makes his way over, clawing at the concrete, pulling with all he has left. Finally he reaches Edward’s prone body and slumps over him. Robinson makes the count.








    Ladies and Gentlemen the winner of this Jonestown Streetfight…LUCIAN L. JONES!!

    Lucian doesn’t move from on top of Edward, as the medical staff moves in and quickly goes to work.

    JR: I’m speechless Paul…for the first time in years I’m speechless! Both these men gave every ounce of their being for this match, and I don’t think either of them will ever be the same again after this encounter!

    PH: I hate to admit it Jim, but both men impressed the hell out of me tonight! This wasn’t just a fight; this was a war that could have gone either way, but full credit to Jones for standing toe-to-toe with The Executioner. He’s done something very few men in this company do, and that’s beat Edward Samson!

    Both men are loaded onto backboards, with neck braces also fitted to keep them stationary. Both competitors in this brutal match are put onto stretchers and wheeled towards the awaiting ambulances.

    THAT WAS AWESOME! *clap clap clapclapclap*

    THAT WAS AWESOME! *clap clap clapclapclap*

    Our fans here showing appreciation for an outstanding effort from both competitors tonight, I just hope there’s no lasting damage. All kinds of injuries could have been sustained during that fall.

    We’re treated to one more slow motion replay of the moment both men went “over the edge”, and we watch them tumble through the air before crashing onto the trailer of the production truck. We cut back to a shot of both men being loaded into separate ambulances, which close their doors, hit their sirens, and zoom away into the sunset.

    JR: We send our best wishes to both men, and will try to get you an update on their condition as soon as we hear anything.

    PH: Both of them are gonna feel that in the morning! Something tells me it’s going to be a lot easier for Jones to tolerate though! Just wait until our GM sees the repair bill caused by this match!!
  10. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000
    TG: ...

    WEB: Todd?

    TG: ...

    WEB: You okay?

    TG: ... I’m... stunned...

    WEB: I feel like, during this, I should call you Ted out of respect to the man.

    TG: Oh please don’t.

    WEB: Even if you don’t share my partners enthusiasm, it’s easy to see why Rockefeller is up so high on the list. He’s one of the most exciting, dynamic superstars that TWOstars has ever seen – his WrestleNova entrances have become legendary and his catchphrase of doing ‘whatever the ‘f’ he wants’ has penetrated popular media all across the world.

    TG: Did you know some people think it’s funny when he picks on me?

    WEB: I refuse to believe it!

    TG: He’s not had nearly as much success as other guys on the list.

    WEB: True, Johnny hasn’t held nearly as much gold as many other roster members, but surely that’s the greatest compliment of all that he has found himself in such a high place and hasn’t needed title belts to earn it.

    TG: He probably fixed the vote...

    WEB: Now Todd, calm down – let’s talk about the match, eh?

    TG: Okay... after six months of feuding backwards and forwards, trading audience support and leading the world along on a piece of string, Sickness and Johnny Rockefeller found themselves stuck in a deadlock with only one possible solution.

    WEB: One of them had to go.

    TG: So in a street fight, in Madison Square Garden, Johnny Rockefeller put his career on the line against Sickness’ career – one man was leaving the home of wrestling unemployed... let’s find out who did.

    TWOstars – XTV5:38

    (street fight)
    Johnny Rockefeller VS Sickness​

    Cut to a wide shot of the arena. We zoom in the see the majestic Chimmel standing in the centre of the ring.

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen, the following a unsanctioned street fight, and it is a career versus career match.

    The crowd pops in general approval or what should be a good match.

    [YOUTUBE]<object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jLuc_aaU5aQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jLuc_aaU5aQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>[/YOUTUBE]

    Da crowd done lost they damn mind.

    PH: And making his way to the ring for the last time...

    JR: Oh quit it Paul! You saw Season's Beatings. Coming off of a recent win, surely Sickness has got to be the favourite here, but, damn, this is going to be a close one, and the stakes just could not be higher. Whoever loses here tonight is out of TWOStars forever.

    PH: If Rockefeller leaves I'm going to with him.

    JR: Well I sure as hell hope Sickness wins then.

    Sickness steps out of the curtain, looking serious. Not just normal serious, Russian serious. That sort of SUPER serious face you force yourself to pull at a funeral to hide the fact that you have the urge to laugh for absolutely no reason.

    JR: A here he is. A new Hall Of Famer, and a completely deserved Hall Of Famer. There are many legends, but there's only one Sickness. This man has been here from the very start; the original TWOStars, ERE, and the 2nd TWOStars, Sickness, Janus, Paul, whatever you want to call him, this man is one of the greatness competitors this sport has every seen.

    Sickness begins to make his way down the entrance ramp, slapping the odd outstretched hand.

    JR: Listen to this crowd Paul? For all the mistakes Sickness has made and bad history he his, right now, Sickness has love for the fans, and the fans love him straight back.

    PH: Because the fans are stupid. Sickness used to treat these fans like dirt!

    JR: Sickness changed. He changed his ways and the fans forgave him, and he hasn't let them down yet.

    Sickness jogs up the ring steps and climbs into the ring.

    TC: First, making his weigh to the ring, from Parts Unkown, weighing in at 234lbs, the one they call SSSSSSSSSSSSSSICKNESS!

    Sickness pulls himself up onto the top rope, and simply stares out into the crowd, nodding to himself as if confirm the fans positive reaction to him.

    JR: No theatrics from Sickness, and that's the way it's always been. This is a smash-mouth, dirty fighting, bar brawling son of a gun if there ever was one.

    Sickness hopes down from the turnbuckle and stands in the centre of the ring, staring out at the currently empty entrance stage.

    JR: Rockefeller may technically have the home advantage here, we're in his home state of New York, but, Sickness has a home field advantage of his own here, remember, this is a street fight, this match is no count out, no disqualification, no rope breaks, and falls count absolutely anywhere. This match could end anywhere, at any time, in almost anyway, and absolutely ANYTHING is legal.

    Sickness's music fades out.

    JR: And that's just where Sickness has always felt at home.

    [YOUTUBE]<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oNF08htoH00&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oNF08htoH00&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>[/YOUTUBE]

    If Hitler goose stepped his way into Tel Aviv's Bloomfield Stadium, he'd probably get a more positive reaction than Johnny Rockefeller gets here tonight. Not that John-Boy minds all that much. Cocky as ever, seemingly unaware that this could well be his last match ever, the Jesus of Suburbia swaggers out from the curtain, with a gold baseball bat over his shoulder.

    JR: And here comes Johnny Rockefeller. I don't like the guys attitude, but I'll admit talent when I see it. Two time United States Champion, one time E.R.E. Champion, the joint third best TWOStars superstar of all time, as voted by you the fans, and, perhaps the most talented young man in this company to never hold the Triple Crown Title. I won't miss his personality, but I'll certainly miss this young man's raw talent should he be the one who...

    PH: DON'T SAY IT! Don't you dare say it J.R.! J Rock ain't going NO WHERE!

    JR: Well, if he lo...


    Rockefeller struts up the ring steps and enters the ring.

    PH: And don't you insult J Rock's attitude. If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't even have a job here!

    JR: Yeah, and then I wouldn't have to sit next to you once a week.

    Sickness just stands totally still, staring into Rockefeller's eyes. Johnny just flashes a goofy grin back.

    TC: And his opponent, residing in East Ha....


    Not caring about what Tony Chimmel has to say in the slightest, Sickness dives forward with an MMA-esque double leg takedown, leaving him inside Rockefeller's full guard and causing him to drop his baseball bat.

    JR: Sickness isn't wasting ANY time here tonight!

    Sickness blasts Rockefeller with four quick, and relatively light hammer punches, but, before a fifth can be landed, Johnny thrusts up his thumb into the Sick One's right eye. Momentarily blinded, Sickness draws back, giving Rockefeller enough room and opportunity to roll the Mini Monster over onto his back, allowing Johnny to climb onto himself, this time in full MMA mount.




    With a combination of a slight weight advantage, and undoubtably superior brawling ability, Sickness as able to roll over again, forcing Rockefeller once more onto his back, and leaving the Mini Monster again in Johnny's full guard.

    JR: They call this style of match a "Street Fight", and, right now, that's pretty much exactly what it is!

    PH: Accept it isn't in the street.

    Escaping pretty much the only way he can, Rockefeller wriggles and slides, on his back, head first, under the bottom rope and out of the ring, dragging Sickness out with him.

    JR: And already they're out of the ring, and, remember, there's no count out's here folks, and pins and submissions both count on the outside.

    Rockefeller and Sickness tie up on the outside and push and lead each other around for a few seconds on the outside, before Sickness' weight advantage comes into play, and he's able to push Johnny back first against the ring apron.

    JR: Only three ways to win this match, a pin fall, a submission, or a knockout.

    Sickness backs up, giving him the range needed to fire off a big right hand into Rockefeller's face.

    JR: No count outs, no DQ's, everything's legal, everything's okay, and one way or another, we're going to have a clear winner here tonight, and that winner will be the only man who leaves Maddison Square Garden as an employee of TWOStars.

    Rockefeller replies with a knife edge chop, forcing Sickness to back off, and allowing Johnny to get away from the apron.

    JR: This is going to get nasty, this is going to get violent, and already, right now, this is just a straight up brawl.

    Sickness lands too fast punches on the advancing Rockefeller, stopping him in his tracks, but Johnny replies with a big right forearm of his own that forces Sickness back against the crowd barrier. Rockefeller advances again, but the Sick One cuts him off with a kick to the midsection. Johnny staggers back, but Sickness isn't fast enough to press home the advantage, and, as he advances on Rockefeller, the Canadian rocks his opponent with another right forearm.

    PH: This is a war right here!

    JR: There's two men are fighting for their pride, their honor, AND their careers here tonight, what were you expecting?

    Rockefeller grabs Sickness by the hair and goes to roll him back into the ring, but the Mini Monster stops his plan with a kick to the guy, followed by a quick right hand.

    JR: Neither of these men able to get an advantage here.

    Rockefeller replies with a knife edge chop.

    JR: Rockefeller, Sickness, Rockefeller, Sickness, this is anyone's match in these early stages!

    Sickness back off and attempts a run at Rockefeller, but Johnny is evidently ready for him, and hits the ground, catching the Sick One in a drop toe hold, forcing the Mini Monster to trip and fall face first in the ring post with a satisfying metallic thud.


    JR: Tough as Sickness may be, a face full of steel like that is enough to take it out of anyone.

    Rockefeller pulls Sickness to his feet and shoves him into the corner of the outside area, to the right off the announce team. Johnny takes a few steps back, panting to catch his breath.

    JR: What's Rockefeller got in mind here?

    Johnny charges towards Sickness, but, evidently, he takes to long to do so, and the Sick one hoists Rockefeller into mid air with a back body drop that plants the Canadian directly onto two security guards, causing all three men to crash onto the concrete, much to the fans' approval.

    PH: AH! They're in the crowd!

    Sickness pulls Rockefeller up to his feet by the hair before slamming his head, face first, into the security barrier.

    JR: Just to tell you again, this is no DQ, this is no count out, this is a street fight, and someone's getting fired.

    Rockefeller, seemingly having had enough, after pulling himself up, simply starts advancing through the crowd, shoving a path all the way to the back ground seating area, with Sickness following him the entire way.

    PH: Look at this! They're going all over the arena!

    No wanting any part of this fight, Johnny simply makes at exit through a pair of fire doors whilst Sickness, and a camera crew chase after him.

    JR: They're taking this right out of the arena floor!

    Eventually, Sickness also makes his way through the fire doors.

    He looks left...

    He looks right...

    Hmm... No sign of Rockefeller...

    He looks left again...

    He looks ri...


    And receives a HUGE gust of fire extinguisher foam to the face, courtesy of Rockefeller, who was hiding behind the open fire doors the whole time, fire extinguisher in hand.

    JR: And now the weapons come into play! Remember this is all legal folks!

    Rockefeller gives Sickness another gust of extinguisher foam to the face causing the Sick One to stumble away down the corridor, holding his eyes in pain, with Johnny in hot pursuit.

    PH: The hunter becomes the hunted J.R.!

    Johnny slams the extinguisher in the back of Sickness's head, before grabbing his long time rival by the back of his waistband, and the scruff of his, and hurling the Mini Monster, face first, into the brick wall. By now, a large group of the fans in the arena have filtered back into the back stage area and a circle of security has formed around Sickness and Rockefeller to keep the audience at bay.

    JR: This looks more like a fight club than a wrestling match.

    PH: Well, it is a street fight!

    Rockefeller picks up the extinguisher and again drives it into Sickness' head with such force the Sick One drops, rag doll like, to the floor. Johnny goes for the pin.



    Sickness kicks out, drawing a huge cheer from the circle of fans. Rockefeller refuses to let go of his advantage, and pulls Sickness to his feet by the hair and drags him through the crowd.

    Come on Sickness!

    F*ck him up Sickness!


    Yeah man!

    Rockefeller leads Sickness out of another set of fire doors, this time on the other side of the corridor to the last set, leading the pair into a much more open foyer sort of area. Johnny continues to lead Sickness through this foyer, occasionally keeping his opponent in check with the odd right hand to the face. Rockefeller is soon at the other end of the foyer, in front of a step of steps, that he non chalontly tosses the Sick One down.


    Johnny jogs down the steps and pins Sickness's crumpled body at the bottom.



    Sickness kicks out. Again, Rockefeller is in no mood to let his advantage go, and he pulls Sickness to his feet, and lead the Mini Monster out of yet another set of doors, into the... well, straight into the middle of Penn Plaza.

    Security pile out after the two to hold back the combination of fans and bewildered onlookers that swarm to watch the brawl. Rockefeller hooks Sickness' arm over his head, and lifts him up for a vertical suplex. At the last moment, the Sick One shifts his weight, and spins round, breaking Rockefeller's holding. As Sickness drops, the grabs hold of Johnny's head, from behind, before dropping to one knee, driving the back of Rockefeller's skull into the Mini Monster's knee cap. The swarm of fans pop like crazy for this sort of modified Darkness Falls, as both men simply slump onto their backs in the middle of the concrete floor.

    JR: Sorry folks, little bit of technical trouble there, we don't think you could us, but, as you can see, these two are putting the "street" into street fight right here.

    After a few seconds of catching his breathe, Sickness rolls over onto Rockefeller, in a crude pin.



    JR: And Rockefeller kicks out at two.


    Both men stagger to their feet, but it's Sickness who takes the upper hand after a right hook to Rockefeller's jaw.

    PH: I can't believe it, these two are literally fighting in the street!

    Sickness grabs Rockefeller in a headlock as he lead him down the outside steps of Penn Plaza, before make a sharp left, and an equally sharp second left, re-entering directly under the famous Madison Square Garden sign (see picture... which you already have)

    PH: Oh no way...

    JR: Sickness is taking this fight right into the middle of Penn Station!

    PH: These two are going to be fighting literally right underneath us!

    Sickness drags Rockefeller to the escalators, but, the difficulty of pulling someone, in a headlock, onto a moving staircase, gets the better of the Sick One, and he's forced to break the hold, allowing Rockefeller to land a desperation right hand.

    JR: These two... these two are exchanging punches on the escalators into Penn Station! What the hell is going on here!?

    In an act of almost comic silliness, the two men begin exchanging right hands a they ride the escalator down into Penn Station.









    Sickness staggers back as Rockefeller lands right hand after right hand.

    JR: This has just got completely out of control here folks.

    Rockefeller grabs Sickness by the hair and drags him through the station and into a near by TGI Friday's. Again, security pour into the establishment, keeping the combination of fans and confused diners at bay.

    PH: This is making me hungry!

    Johnny slams Sickness face into the bar counter, but the Mini Monsteris, just in time, able to get his hands out, slamming both palms onto the bar, and locking his elbows, making it impossible for Rockefeller to drive his face down. The Sick One swings an elbow out sideways, catching Rockefeller in the stomach.

    JR: And now Sickness takes control.

    Sickness grabs Rockefeller's head and slam it face first onto the bar top, causing the Show Stealer to slump to his knees like a drunk. Sickness turns to the worried looking barmaid.


    The barmaid quickly pours a shot of whiskey, which Sickness eagerly snatches, before raising it to the cheering, smiling fans. The Sick One downs the shot of his favourite drink, before smashing the tiny glass into Rockefeller's face.

    PH: Not the face! Not his beautiful face!

    Sickness pulls Rockefeller to his head and clamps him back into a headlock, before leading him out of the restaurant and towards and further into the station.

    JR: At this rate, this match could end in New Jersey!

    PH: This could be our first ever match to cross state lines J.R.!

    Sadly, it won't be, as Sickness drags Rocefeller up another flight of stairs, leading both men back into Madison Square Garden.

    JR: It looks like these two might actually end up in the ring again!

    Sickness throws Rockefeller through a set of fire doors, like a bouncer throwing a drunk out of a club. Johnny stumbles to his feet, but not in time to block a right hand that a Sick One drives into his face.

    JR: Where are they now? They're somewhere in the arena, but where?

    Apparently, they're backstage, as noted by the corridor of wrestlers that has assembled, heels on one side, faces on the other.

    Evil Gringo: GET HIM SICKNESS!

    CVD: Go on J Rock!

    Security desperately try to hold back the wrestlers, but no one notices as the tiny frame of Charlotte Hoffman slips between them, diving from offscreen and smashing a bottle of priceless vintage champagne over the Sick One's head.

    Faces: BOOOOOOOOO!

    Heels: YEAH!

    JR: Yet again, that damn woman's involved herself in a match!

    PH: Hey, it's a street fight J.R., anything goes!

    Rockefeller, unsteady, but certainly more steady than the near unconscious Sickness, goes for a pin.



    JR: Sickness kicks out!

    Johnny slams the palm of his hand on the floor before climbing up to his feet, pulling Sickness with him, and leading him through the backstage area and out of the curtain.

    JR: And finally these tow are back in the main arena.

    The crowd cheers at the fact that they don't have to watch the match on the TWOTron anymore.

    JR: Sickness is in trouble here.

    Rockefeller leads Sickness down the entrance ramp, pausing only to slam his face into the security barrier, and to, quite audibly, instruct the jeering fans to, "Muck themselves". Well... that's what it sounded like to me.

    JR: This is more of a bar fight than a wrestling match here tonight.

    Johnny shoves Sickness back first against the entrance ramp security barrier, and lays into him with a big knife edge chop, drawing a reluctant "Woo" from the fans.


    Rockefeller pulls Sickness away from the barrier, and, holding him by the back of the neck and the back of his trousers, he throws the Sick One into the ring apron.

    jR: This is out of control. We've had them fighting in a bar, fightingin a restaurant, fighting in the street, backstage, in the area, and, finally, in seems like the fight might actually end up in the ring.

    Johnny pulls Sickness to his feet and drives a right forearm, hard, into this face.

    JR: Let's get this match in the ring, come on now!

    Rockefeller grabs Sickness by the arm.

    JR: Irish whip by Rock...

    Sickness maintains his grip and shifts his weight, reversing the whip into one of his own, sending Rockefeller crashing thigh first into the ring steps at such a angle that Rockefeller flips into the air, performing a sort of mid-aid barrel roll, and landing on his back.


    Sickness shakes his head, trying to pull himself together as he drags himself up onto the apron.

    JR: These two are just plain old beating the hell out of each other.

    Sickness pauses on the apron as Rockefeller slowly gets up on the outside.

    JR: Rockefeller the relative rookie in this match, despite being with us for almost three years, Sickness ha...

    J.R. is cut off when, as soon as Rockefeller returns to his feet, Sickness charges across the ring apron, jumping off at the other end, and spinnin upside down in midair as he does so, crashing into Johnny and sending both men collapsing down onto the outside.

    JR: November Echo! November Echo off the apron!


    JR: My God! These men are just trying to kill each other!

    Sickness staggers up to his feet, pulling Rockefeller with him.

    JR: Sickness and Rockefeller, no holds barred, fall count anywhere, and one of these men is getting fired tonight.

    Johnny ends Sickness' advantage with a savage, and desperate rake of the eyes.

    JR: I just have no idea who's going to win this...

    Rockefeller blast Sickness with a right forearm before rolling him back into the ring.

    JR: But matches like this take a HUGE physical toll on the guys involved.

    Johnny pulls up Sickness and goes for an Irish whip, but the Sick One reverses, sending Rockefeller across the ring.

    JR: Rockefeller ducks the clothesline... and another... MESSIAH COMPLEX! Rockefeller hits the Messiah Complew out of absolutely no where!

    Partly dazed from the flipping neckbreaker himself, Rockefeller slumps onto Sickness for the pin.




    JR: And Sickness kicks out, JUST!

    PH: Man that was close!

    Rockefeller climbs up to his feet, whilst Sickness remains on the mat, holding the back of his neck in pain.

    JR: Rockefeller back on control here for now.

    Casually, Rockefeller wonders over to Sickness, and stamps, hard, one the Sick Ones right knee.

    JR: Rockefeller's going straight after that right leg, a boy part he loves to target.

    Johnny lays in with another savage stomp to the knee.


    JRock: What!?

    This time, Rockefeller jumps up with both legs, bending his knees in mind air, and slamming his entire body weight down on Sickness' knee.

    JR: This is torture! This is sick! Johnny Rockefeller is as good as trying to cripple Sickness right in the middle of the ring.

    JRock: Just submit you old bastard!

    Again, Rockefeller lands a just plain dangerous looking standing double foot stomp on Sickness' knee. The Sick One rolls around on the mat, clutching his leg, and screaming out in pain.

    JRock: End the match ref, or I swear I'll snap his leg clean off.

    Rockefeller goes back to the one footed stomps, again on Sickness' knee.

    JR: This is a torture, this is a meticulous disassembling we're seeing from Johnny Rockefeller here tonight.

    Johnny pulls Sickness up by the hair, before grabbing hold of his right leg.

    JRock: Tell the ref it's over and it's over Sicko.

    Sickness doesn't reply, but Rockefeller doesn't wait for one, spinning around and painfully twisting Sickness' right leg with a dragon screw leg whip. Johnny keeps hold of the leg as he gets to his feet, dragging the Mini Monster up awkwardly, and leaving him hoping on one leg.

    JRock: Come on Sicko!

    This time, Sickness DOES have a reply...

    ... in the form an enzenguri.


    Sickness lands, unsteadily on his feet, as Rockefeller bends over clutching his face.

    JR: Sickness has a chance to capitalize here!

    The Sick One limps as fast as he can over the stunned Rockfeller and hoists the former ERE Champion onto his shoulders in the fireman's lift, before him off, catching his face with a raised knee.

    JR: COMA! COMA! Out of absolutely no where!


    Rockefeller lays, not moving on the mat, as Sickness drops to his knees, unable to summon the energy to do anything else.

    JR: If Sickness can go over and make the pin, this one's over!


    Sickness begins to crawl on his hands and knees towards Rockefeller.

    JR: This could be it! This could be the end of Johnny Rockefeller

    Sickness drapes an arm over Rockefeller's chest. The crowd, LOUDLY, join in the with counts.


    PH: NO!


    PH: NO!


    PH: YES! YES! OH MY GOD! Oh my God, I think I just had a heart attack!

    JR: Rockefeller isn't done. Rockefeller isn't through and we still have a match going here.

    Both men simply lay, not moving, in the centre of the ring.







    Sickness pulls himself up to his kness in the middle of the ring


    Before dropping back down again


    Sickness again gets back to his knees


    And finally up to his feet.

    PH: Who would have been fired if that reached ten?

    Sickness hobbles over to Rockefeller, who's now up to his knees.

    JR: Sickness is... Oh no!

    But Johnny sees him coming and simply, and crudely, left hooks Sickness square in the side of the knee, causing the Sick One to collapse in pain.

    JR: Dammit! Rockefeller's going to break his damn leg!

    Johnny scrambles up to his feet, using the ring ropes for help, before charging towards the downed Sickness and landing yet another stomp, this time to the back of the Sick One's right knee.

    PH: J Rock's literally going to make Sickness into a one legged man in a butt kicked contest!

    Rockefeller stamps two more times on Sickness' leg. Desperate to get the space to recover, the Mini Monster desperately pencil rolls sideways out of the ring, dropping down onto the ring side mats.

    JR: Sickness is just desperate to get some space to recover here.

    Johnny slides out of the ring after his opponent and stomps three times on the Sick One's lower back. Each shot makes the veteran writhe in pain.

    JR: This is just a mugging now. This is just a plain old fashioned mugging!

    Rockefeller pulls Sickness back to to his feet and slides him back into the ring before following him in

    PH: This is just a matter of time J.R.! Sicko's done! J Rock got this win on lock.

    Grinning sadistically, Rockefeller wanders over to his baseball bat, which has remained in the ring since it was knocked from his hands.

    JR: Oh come on now! This is too much, this is too far!

    The boos of the crowd grow louder and louder as Rockefeller slowly strolls in circles around Sickness, swinging the bat in his right hand. The boos grow ever and ever louder, as Rockefeller's smile grows bigger and bigger.

    JR: Rockefeller is taking a pleasure, a sick sadistic pleasure in this.

    Resting the bat on his shoulder, Johnny adjusts his prowling circles in such a way that he casually steps on Sickness' right knee as he walks, causing the Sick One to scream in pain.


    Rockefeller raises the bat above his head...




    And brings it down...


    ...on the mat, as Sickness rolls out of the way. Rockefeller pauses, stunned in confusion, allowing Sickness, with a desperate second wind of energy to pull himself up. The crowd is just going dick mad. Johnny swings the bat wildly, but Sickness ducks, grabbing Rockefeller across the chest, Rock Bottom style, before dropping down to his knees, driving the Billionaire Boy Wonder's jaw into the Mini Monster's shoulder.

    JR: BAREBACK! BAREBACK! And just like that Sickness is back in control!

    Rockefeller staggers back holding his jaw and dropping his bat, giving Sickness time to pick up the dropped sports tool, and swing it, vertically, right into the top of Johnny's skull. The crowd is just completely flipping out.


    JR: Rockefeller just got a little taste of his own medicine right there!


    Sickness wastes no time and drops on top on Rockefeller, going for a pin.




    PH: YES! Oh, oh, my heart can't take this anymore.

    The Sick One pulls himself up by the ropes, before turning to pull Rockefeller up too.

    JR: Sickness keeping hold of the advantage here.

    Sickness spins Rockefeller around and grabs him in a full nelson.

    JR: Boyo Bulldog maybe?

    The Mini Monster charges towards the rope, keeping the full nelson locked into, and runs up the ropes, one by one, Matrix style.

    Bottom rope

    Middle rope

    Top rope

    As Sickness swings around for the world famous Boyo Bulldog, he soon finds himself stuck in mid-air.

    JR: Uh-oh!

    Rockefeller has effectively caught Sickness, in mid-air, in a rough belly to back suplex position. Keeping the Sick One, Rockefeller staggers in the midd of the ring.

    PH: OH YES! A Different Class Baby!

    Rockefeller spins Sickness around in mid-air, into a sort of power bomb position, but, Sickness, agile as ever, backflips off Johnny's shoulders and landing on his feet.

    JR: Sickness reverses!

    Before Rockefeller can really figure out what's going on, Sickness kicks him square in the stomach, before...


    Rockefeller bounces back up, falling back into the ropes. As he rebounds, Sickness turns to face him, grabs him in a front facelock and slams the Show Stealer head first into the mat with a DDT.

    JR: Sickness hit the Cross Infection! Surely this is over! SURELY!

    Sickness quickly dives down for another pin attempt




    JR: AND JUST AT THE LAST POSSIBLE MOMENT, Johnny Rockefeller has kicked out, this match isn't over yet.

    Sickness looks up at the referee in disbelief, but wastes no time complaining, instead pulling Rockefeller up to his feet.

    JR: What does Sickness have to do? What does Sickness have to do to keep Rockefeller down?

    The Sick One pulls Rockefeller up into a fireman's carry.

    JR: This must do it! Surely! Surely a second Coma will do it!

    Sickness pauses in the centre of the ring with Rockefeller across his shoulders, before shoving him up into the air.

    JR: COMA!

    PH: NO!

    Suddenly, Rockefeller swings around, landing his feet on the ground, so that Johnny and Sickness are effectively standing next to each other, but facing in opposite directions. Before the Sick One can even work out what's happened, Rockefeller grabs him across the chest, lifts him up and drops to one knee, driving the small of the Mini Monster's back onto the Show Stealer's kneecap.


    JR: Diamond In The Rough! Rockefeller hit the Diamond In The Rough!

    PH: It's over! Sickness' career is over!

    Rockefeller instantly goes for a pin.





    JR: Good God almighty! Good God almighty! Sickness kicked out of the Diamond In The Rough! How is ANYONE going to end this match!?

    Both men lay, side by side, motionless.








    Rockefeller drags himself up by the ropes, and charges over to Sickness, who's only just up to his hands and knees, stamping his right foot as hard as possible into the back of the Sick One's right knee.

    JR: Rockefeller going back to that right knee.

    Johnny lands another stomp before pulling Sickness up to his feet.

    JR: Rockefeller's got to be thinking, what does he have to do to end this? What's it going to take for Johnny Rockefeller to win here tonight, and is it even possible?

    Rockefeller shoves Sickness into the corner, before slashing him across the chest with a knife edge chop.


    Johnny tucks his head under Sickness's arm and lifts the dazed Sick One onto the top rope.

    JR: Where's Rockefeller going with this?

    The cocky Canadian pull himself onto the top rope, and tucks Sickness' head under his arm in a front facelock.

    JR: Rosedale Roulette? Is Johnny Rockefeller looking for the Rosedale Roulette?

    PH: If this hits, it's all over!

    Sickness desperately begins punching Rockefeller in the side of his ribs, eventually forcing him to break the hold.

    JR: No...

    Sickness draws back his fist to punch out at Johnny, but Rockefeller's quicker on the draw, and fights back with a rack of the eyes.

    JR: Rockefeller back in control... is he going to try for the Rosedale Roulette again?

    He is not. Instead, Rockefeller shoves Sickness' head between his legs...

    JR: Oh no...

    Rockefeller underhooks Sickness' right arm.

    JR: Oh surely not...

    Rockefeller underhooks Sickness' left arm.

    JR: A top rope V.I.Piledriver? Surely not!? SURELY!?

    Rockefeller summons all his strength...






    JR: LOW BLOW! Low Blow from Sickness!

    Somehow, Sickness is able to wriggle his right arm free, and slam it between Rockefeller's legs. Johnny falls backwards, off the top rope, landing on his feet, clutching his genitals in pain.

    JR: My God, I thought we were going to see a top rope V.I.Piledriver!

    Out of no where, Sickness suddenly flips off the top rope, grabbing hold of Rockefeller's head as he does.

    JR: Diamond Dust! Sickness with the Diamon...no!

    Just in time, Rockefeller grabs hold of the top rope, leaving Sickness to simply smash back first onto the canvas. Quick as a flash, Johnny rushes over to Sickness's legs, that are pointing to the centre of the ring, andquickaslightening...


    PH: YES!

    JR: Rockefeller has the Sharpshooter locked in!

    Sickness lunges forwards and grabs hold of the ropes.

    PH: HA! It's a Street Fight! Rope breaks don't count!



    JRock: Ask him ref! Ask him!

    Ref: Do you submit Sickness!?

    S: NO!

    JRock: Keep asking!

    Rockefeller leans back wrenching the hold in even harder.

    JR: The move that retired Boyo! This is the mvoe that retired Boyo nearly two years ago, will the other member of the Dark Alliance fall to the same move?

    JRock: ASK HIM!

    Ref: Come on Sickness!

    S: NoOoOoOoOoOoO!


    S: NOO!



    Ref: Sickness?

    S: NO!

    Ref: Sickness?

    S: No!

    Ref: Come on Sickness, I've got to see you've got to try and get out of the hold, or I'll have to end it!

    S: No

    S: no

    S: no~

    Sickness goes limp.




    Ref: It's over, he's out, it's over, it's over!





    Rockefeller's jaw basically drops off his face, as he releases the hold, and simply drops to his knees


    JR: MY GOD! NO! NO IT CAN'T BE! Sickness... Sickness just lost!... that's it... Si... Sickness just got fired!

    Rockefeller's eyes are wide as, ironically, a cocaine user's as he runs his hands slowly, and roughly through his hair, simply kneeling, open mouth, staring at the mat.


    The boos are insane, just absolutely insane. Cups, paper, even a shoe rain down into the ring, but Rockefeller doesn't react at all. The camera cuts to an evidently over emotional young boy openly crying in the crowd.

    [YOUTUBE]<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oNF08htoH00&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oNF08htoH00&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>[/YOUTUBE]


    Rockefeller those his hands in the air, Willam Defoe in Platoon style. His entrance music can barely be heard over the absolutely deafening boos.

    JR: I... I don't believe... I don't believe what just happened.

    Maurice LeKay and Charlotte Hoffman jog out from the back stage area as Rockefeller himself, unable to walk, rolls out of the ring under the top rope. Johnny drapes his arms over Maury's enormous shoulder, whilst Hoffman does her best to support the now even more potent Career Killer's other side with her tiny frame. Together, the Jet Set drag their leader backstage.

    JR: I just... I just don't believe it....

    Rockefeller's music fades out. It's soon replaced by a steadily rising chant from the crowd.


    EVERYONE is on their feet

    EVERYONE is clapping

    The crowd
    Even Haymen are on their feet applauding.

    From behind the curtain, The Prime Time Players emerge, clapping and nodding at Sickness, who is now up to his knees. They're followed out by Randy Roko, then Jason Bell... then Cari Dee... then Portia... then The Evil Gringo. All of them stand around the ring clapping and smiling. Cari even sheds a small tear. Keith Jaxx, Jimmy Redman, and the Incredible Holt also emerge from behind the curtain.


    Clad in title belts, The Evil Gringo slides under the bottom rope.


    Sickness is now fully back to his feet, and is openly crying, as are many in the audience. Even the Gringo himself looks like he's having trouble holding back the boo hoos. The two veterans hug in the middle of the to a round of applause. The Mexicutioner slides the Hardcore Title from the left shoulder, and places it around Sickness's waist.


    Sickness smiles to himself, and sniffs back a tear as Gringo, having fastened the belt, back away into the corner of the ring, smiling as he performs the cliched "We're not worthy pose".


    The camera swings around to show Boyo and the Great Ken standing on the entrance stage. Sickness stares at his old friend and tag partner over the top rope, choking back his emotions as best he can.


    Boyo slides into the ring under the bottom rope.

    Sickness and Boyo stare at each other in the centre of the ring.

    Neither man show any emotion.

    They just stare.

    And stare



    The old friends hug in the centre of the ring, as Sickness just completely loses control of his emotions. Even Boyo is looking pretty red eyed. Boyo breaks the embrace and lifts Sickness' hand in the air.

    The camera fades to black on the image of the Dark Alliance, finally together again, in the centre of the ring.



    Last edited: Jun 15, 2011
  11. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000

    TG: Didn’t we just watch him retire?

    WEB: What a lead-in if ever there was one.

    TG: Well, there we go, congratulations are in order for the Sick One – a legend in the business and a man who’s been around the block his fair share of times.

    WEB: Shall we have a look over his past accolades just to help people who maybe don’t know a lot about him...

    TG: Well Sickness was in ERE back in the day and won a King of the Ring way back in 2005. When he came over to TWOstars he found success winning the Tag Team championships in his very first match, however took the belts another twice – once more with Boyo and then with Jacey LaRoque as part of the Flaming Dark. He won an Ultimate King of the Ring – of course ending in the classic final against Drake Rush – and went on to win every single TWOstars title in an ‘All or Nothing’ cage match against Arron Winter in February 2009.

    WEB: That means he held, all at once, the Triple Crown championship, the Television championship, the United states championship AND the Tag Team championship... ALL AT ONCE!

    TG: That was a grand total of seven belts he was carrying around.

    WEB: Having been around for so long, he’s feuded with everybody that’s ever passed through TWOstars – has evolved from a pain-immune monster to a fun-loving joker to the well respected locker room leader he is today.

    TG: He’s only ever submitted ONCE in his career, and even found time to get inducted into the Hall of Fame and go undefeated for seven months in his most recent run with the company.

    WEB: All of this has caused Sickness to become one of the most beloved superstars that the company has ever produced and given him every reason to top this list today.

    TG: The match we’re using to pay tribute to our number one sees him last November challenging for the Triple Crown championship in a Scramble match.

    WEB: It wasn’t a cut and dry affair though – he’d been told that if he didn’t win the title in this match then his contract not be renewed.

    TG: Without giving too much away, I don’t think it’s any secret that Sickness is still with us today... but what exactly does that mean for the match result?

    TWOstars – World War 2010
    Triple Crown championship

    (scramble match)
    Lucian L. Jones(c) VS Sickness VS Edward Samson VS Craig Van Dam VS Barry Gower​

    From the commercial for Battle Royale 2011 - where 30 men and women will compete for a chance to headline WrestleNova - we are taken back to the arena...

    We cut to ringside. Stood in the center of the ring, microphone in hand, is TWOStars Master of Ceremonies Tony Chimmell. Next to Tony three stagehands are stood, each holding a different belt of the Triple Crown.

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is a 30 minute Scramble Match for the TWOStars Triple Crown Championship. There are no count outs or disqualifications in this match. Should a pin or submission be scored then the person who gained that victory will be the interim champion. At the end of the 30 minute time limit the last person to score the pinfall or submission will be recognised as TWOStars Triple Crown Champion! If no falls are scored in the 30 minutes then the championship will be declared vacant!

    JR: Hold on, nobody mentioned that before.

    PH: Only because you’re not worth letting into the loop.

    TC: Introducing first…


    The crowd start to boo as the former Triple Crown Champions music starts to play.

    TC: Weighing in tonight at 234 pounds, he hails from County Durham, England. He is Craig Van Daaaaam.

    The northern warrior emerges from behind the curtain and the booing intensifies. Craigs eyes fix on the ring, the three belts inside the squared circle almost hypnotising the former champion. A balled up piece of paper bounces off of CVDs head, bringing him out of his daze.

    JR: I may not have much time for Craig Van Dam, but there’s no need for that!

    PH: Respect JR, respect. That’s what these fans are missing, and not just these fans, but fans all over the world. Wherever Craig goes he gets booed, that’s not right.

    JR: I’m not sure about that.

    The Brit starts to head towards the ring, his eyes still fixed on the Triple Crown. As Craig walks the fans continue to boo and throw paper balls, a couple of them hit the former champ, but he ignores them.

    PH: So who’s your prediction JR? I cant see past Gower or CVD.

    JR: Well all the people in this match are top level athletes, I think it will come down to who wants it most. Lucian Jones wants to hold on to his Triple Crown, but remember that if Sickness doesn’t finish the match as champion then he’s to be fired.

    PH: Again.

    JR: Edward Samson is always dangerous, and he’s been silent - as ever - over the match. I don’t know if he has the killer edge needed tonight for this match.

    When the Northerner reaches the ring steps he nods up at Chimmell before climbing up and entering the ring. As the referee starts to check CVD for weapons his music fades.

    TC: And introducing his first opponent in this match…


    A shower of golden sparks fall from the rafters onto the entrance ramp as “Slam” by Pendulum begins to play.

    Tonight, on this small planet, on Earth We’re about to rock civilization…

    The music kicks in and the gold and blue pyro explodes around the entrance as Lucian L Jones emerges from the back.

    TC: Weighing in tonight at 237lbs, and hailing from Jonestown. He is the Sultan of Swagga, the King of Bling. Lucian L. Jones!

    The crowd explodes into cheers at the sight of their champion. Though once that bell rings that could be over though… Lucian is wearing his normal baggy shorts, but is without his hooded top. The champ is more focused than normal, almost to the point of ignoring the fans… almost. Jones takes the chance to high five a couple of kids on the way to the ring.

    PH: Just look at him JR, look at him.

    JR: What am I meant to be seeing Paul?

    PH: That smug look, that arrogant demeanour and sociopath gleam in his eyes.

    JR: I just see a focused Lucian Jones climbing into the ring.

    PH: You need to look beyond superficial. You need to start to see the person underneath. Heck, I didn’t know Jones was black until I read his wiki page.

    JR: You read his wiki page?

    PH: That’s how I do my research.

    Jones’s music fades out as the referee starts to check him for foreign objects. Chimmell leaves the ring as the two wrestlers start to loosen up ready for the match.

    ***DING DING DING***

    Both men battle for leverage and Jones gets the upper hand. He gets CVD in a side headlock and yanks hard, and the crowd pops this.

    JR: Great start by the Jonestown native.

    PH: But it doesn't last very long. Craig is already working his way out.

    CVD squirms out of the headlock, keeping hold of Lucians right arm and twists around to get Lucian into a hamerlock, then transitions into a headlock.

    PH: Craig van Dam playing smart and wearing down Lucian Jones.

    JR: Real smart. So smart that its how most matches begin. The innovator!

    Jones manages to get a hand inbetween his head and the arm of the high flier. Jones strains a little and manages to break the hold. As Craig hesitates for a fraction of a second the King of Bling twists down and to the side of the former champion before grabbing his arm and twisting it into a beautiful arm wringer.

    JR: Craig thought he’d come in with the technical advantage, Jones is proving that he shouldn’t have counted his chickens.

    Lucian stands over the fallen Van Dam, holding on to his arm, before stepping over CVDs shoulder and falling on to his back, locking in an armbar.

    PH: Come on ref, this is illegal.

    JR: What?! How?

    PH: He’s standing on his hair.

    JR: Is there anything you wont make up?

    The County Durham native stretches out to the ropes, his fingertips brushing the bottom one. Jones yanks back harder, but its not enough to stop the high flier from managing to grab the rope and the referee signals to Jones to release the submission.

    JR: Lucian getting to his feet. Bah Gawd!

    PH: Craig Van Dam with a schoolboy roll up. Hahaha.

    JR: That was cheap.

    PH: It was smart JR, Jones shouldn’t have turned his back on Van Dam.

    The referee drops down to count the pinfall.



    JR: But Lucian Jones kicks out easily.

    Craig Van Dam and The Man They Call Lucy get to their feet quickly and CVD lunges in for a takedown but Lucian Jones counters with a knee to the descending jaw of the former champion. Craig gets to his feet looking rather wobbly and turns into an arm drag by The Sultan of Swagga. Jones takes advantage of CVDs dazed state and goes for a pin

    JR: Could this be the first fall of the match?




    JR: Kickout at two!

    The two men get to their feet, Craig obviously shaking off the effects of the knee strike. The two men eye each other warily, they have faced each other enough to know not to underestimate each other. Suddenly Jones grins and straightens up a little, leaving CVD a little perplexed. Jones slowly raises one arm up at the elbow, fingers straight out. As Craig looks on Lucian starts doing The Robot Dance, much to the crowds delight.

    PH: What the hell? What is he doing? And why the hell are the fans cheering this crap?

    JR: Lucians a showman Paul, he’s just being himself.

    PH: But The Robot?! Jesus…

    CVD stands, hands on hips, shaking his head. It took him so long to get a rematch for the Triple Crown and now Jones is acting like a retarded 12 year old at his first school disco. As the Basileus of the Ballroom continues his dance Craigy has had enough and charges, but Jones had anticipated (planned on?) this and back body drops Van Dam over the top rope and to the floor!

    JR: Hah, maybe Lucian Jones isn’t as stupid as you think Paul E. He suckered Craig Van Dam into a position where CVD would be hurt for very little effort.

    PH: Smart? I’d say lucky. Lucian didn’t mean that, he was checking his bootlaces and straightened up just in time to throw Craig over. Lucky lucky lucky.

    JR: And the more he practises the luckier he gets.

    On the outside of the ring Craig manages to get to his feet and turns to face the ring. Lucian Legendary Jones starts to body pop as the crowd cheers, and Craig slams his hands on the ring apron in anger. I guess CVD just doesn’t get how the cool kids dance these days. The veteran wrestler walks around the ring, slowly heading towards the ring steps.

    PH: I wonder who the next person in the match is JR. I hope its Sickness or Samson.

    JR: Why?

    PH: Because then when Gower comes in last he will be fresh and able to beat everyone else with ease. Not that he’d not be able to beat them normally. Obviously.

    JR: Sure, obviously.

    As CVD climbs back into the ring, eyes locked onto Jones, and straightens up. Barely restrained anger shows on the normally stoic face of the former champion. Craigy marches over to His Highness of Flyness and raises one hand into the air, fingers flexing.

    JR: Craig Van Dam challenging Lucian Jones to a test of strength here.

    PH: Good thinking from Van Dam.

    JR: I don’t know Paul E, have we really seen CVD utilise strength in the past? Normally we see him rely on his speed and agility.

    PH: Jones is hardly known as a power player JR.

    JR: Well Lucian seems to be rising to the challenge, the two men have locked hands.

    As Jonesy starts to apply his strength the Durham native kicks Jones in the stomach, doubling him over in pain. The Sultan of Swing gasps for breath as Craigs face finally breaks into an almost smile. CVD drags the Jonestown native to a corner of the ring before starting to land hard right hands to his body.

    JR: Van Dam concentrating on the ribs of Lucian Jones here.

    PH: Good tactic JR, good tactic. If Jones cant breath then he cant fight, and he will be weakened for CVD’s frog splash.

    The Englishman whips Lucian into the opposite corner. Jones slams chest first into the turnbuckle before staggering backwards into the center of the ring. Taking full advantage of Jones’s position Craig charges in and hit’s a massive clothesline to the back of Lucians head, knocking him face first to the mat.

    PH: Hahaha, love it.

    The crowd boo as the former champ raises both hands into the air in triumph before slamming his boot into the back of Jones’s neck. CVD runs at the ropes, rebounds, performs a forward roll and

    JR: Rolling Thunder! Van Damn hitting the Rolling Thunder splash on Lucian Jones. Van Dam making the cover.


    PH: This is it! Craig Van Dam is about to become champion.


    JR: Interim champion Paul. And maybe.

    THR… kickout to a cheer from the crowd.

    CVD slaps the mat in anger before looking up at the time display in the corner of the TWOTron. According to the display we are 4.36 into the match, just over 5 minutes before the next entrant to the match. Craig nods to himself and grabs the head of Lucian as the champ tries to pull himself up. As the crowd boo Van Dam pulls Jones’s head between his legs, positioning him for the infamous package piledriver.

    PH: This could be it now JR.

    JR: Backbody drop! Jones countering the package piledriver with a backbody drop, and the crowd love it!

    PH: Those idiots will lap up just about anything.

    The Sultan of Staggering to His Feet, errrrr, staggers to his feet guess that nickname was amazingly apt. Jones turns around and spots the groaning CVD and, as the crowd cheers a little louder, the champ slaps his right leg to indicate its time for Craig Van Dam to get a taste of the Ghetto Blaster!

    JR: Lucian L Jones just waiting now, waiting for Van Dam to get to his feet.

    PH: Stay down Craig! Stay down!

    CVD pulls himself up to his knees and Lucian starts his charge at the first of his challengers in this scramble match.

    JR: GHETTO BLAS… NO! Craig Van Dam dodges, Lucian Jones off balance, spins around and … OH!

    PH: Beautiful kick to the stomach of Jones.

    CVD grabs the head of the doubled over champion and charges at the corner post, slamming the skull of Lucian off of the top turnbuckle when they get there. Lucian staggers backwards, dazed from the impact, and Craig follows up with a massive lariat to the chest of the Prince of Pugilism, sending him crashing to the canvas. CVD quickly follows him down and hooks the leg for the pinfall.


    PH: For someone known as a high flier Craig Van Dam has damned impressive strength.


    JR: I cant argue that Paul E.


    JR: This must be getting frustrating for Van Dam. Only 3 minutes until the next entrant in this maTCh, and being up at this point could be a massive advantage.

    PH: Like Craig needs an advantage! He held the Triple Crown and the ERE belt at the same time, who else has ever managed that?

    In the ring Craig is arguing with the referee, insisting that the two count was a three! As is typical with this kind of classic heel mistake its giving the face a chance to recover his wits and get to his feet. The crowd cheer as Jones gets up, causing CVD to think they are cheering his impassioned pleas for the 3 count.

    PH: Oh no…

    The King of Bling grabs the shoulder of Craig and spins him around before landing a massive right hand to the face of the Durham native. CVD staggers backwards as Lucian launches a well paced attack.

    LLJ: Do


    LLJ: You


    LLJ: Know


    LLJ: Who


    LLJ: I


    LLJ: Am?


    LLJ: I’m Lucian L Jones


    Crowd: BITCH!

    Lucian L Jones lands a final, massive, strike to CVD and the smaller man staggers backwards and falls out of the ring to a massive cheer from the fans in the arena. The Head Honcho of Hip Hop raises both arms in the air and yells to Craig as he starts to get to his feet

    LLJ: And what beee-otch!?

    On the outside of the ring Craig slams his hands onto the ring apron, frustration showing on his face. He’s spent almost as much time outside the ring as in it in this match now! Suddenly CVD spins around and starts arguing with someone in the front row, we cant make out what the argument is about but the fan isn’t backing down.

    JR: Its unusual to see a veteran like Craig Van Dam make mistakes like he has in this match! This is the second time he’s turned his back on Lucian Jones.

    PH: Its not stupidity, he’s just giving Jones a chance. OHNOLOOKOUT!

    Lucian runs at the ring ropes and as Craig turns around Jones launches himself over the top rope, slamming his body into CVD and both men collapse to the floor.

    JR: Tope suicida! That may well be a first for Lucian L Jones.

    On the TWOTron the clock now shows 57 seconds until the next entrant in the Scramble Match.

    PH: That was a stupid move by Jones. Now he has no time to properly recover before the next guy comes out. My moneys on Edward Samson by the way.

    Slowly the two men start to pull themselves to their feet, Craig using the ring apron and Lucian using the crown barrier while a couple of kids in the front row pat him on the shoulder. As the countdown shows 45 seconds both men steady themselves and turn, causing them to be face to face.

    JR: Hard right from Van Dam, blocked by Lucian Jones, punch by Jones to the face of Van Dam. Van Dam trying again, blocked again by Jones. Jones landing another punch. And another! And Van Dams had enough!

    CVD quickly races away from Jones before rolling into the ring, followed closely by the Jonestown native. Craigy slams his foot down onto the back of Jones as he tries to get to his feet and the crowd start to count down the last ten seconds.

    Crowd: TEN

    CVD drops down and applies a front facelock onto the prone Lucian Jones, wrenching back as hard as he can in the hope of getting the submission before the next entrant.

    Crowd: NINE!

    The referee checks with Lucian to see if he’s ready to quit, but the Duke of Jonestown holds out!

    Crowd: EIGHT!

    JR: Craig Van Dam looking a little frantic here Paul E.

    Crowd: SEVEN!

    PH: He wants to have won this by getting the pinfall in a one on one section of match JR.

    Crowd: SIX!

    PH: He wants the world to realise he can beat Jones.

    Crowd: FIVE!

    JR: Well he seems to be out of luck Paul, Lucian Jones is fighting to get to the ropes.

    Crowd: FOUR!

    The fingertips of Lucian brush the bottom rope…

    Crowd: THREE!

    … and he managed to grab hold! The referee quickly indicates to CVD to release the hold.

    Crowd: TWO!

    Craig snarls at the official and quickly releases the facelock, getting to his feet as the crowd chant

    Crowd: ONE!!!!


    The crowd roars its approval as The Sick One emerges from the back and races down the ramp towards the ring. CVD stomps again on the back of Lucian, keeping the King of Shwing down.

    TC: And introducing next to the match, weighing in at 235 pounds, he is Siiiickness!

    ‘Down With The Sickness’ fades out as the Mini Monster slides into the ring and lunges at Van Dam, taking the high flier down with an almost spear like manoeuvre. The two men start to roll around the canvas, punches being thrown by each of them.

    JR: You guessed wrong Paul E! Sickness is here, and he’s fired up!

    PH: Wouldn’t you be JR? This is his last chance, he has to win this match if he wants to stay employed by TWOStars.

    JR: You could argue that he has more desire to win this match than anyone else tonight. Though I don’t know if anyone has ever wanted to be champion more than Lucian Jones.

    CVD and Sickness are now on their feet, still exchanging blows, though Van Dam is obviously getting the worst of the fight and is landing maybe 1 blow for every 3 of Sickness’s. The exchange comes to an abrupt end as The Sick One plants a boot in the stomach of CVD before turning around and grabs his head


    Craig falls backwards into the ring ropes, the steel cables springing the Northerner back towards Sickness who has quickly gotten to his feet in time to catch Van Dam with a devastating

    JR: DDT! That’s the entire Cross Infection on Craig Van Dam!

    PH: Sickness is covering Craig, someone stop him!

    The referee drops down and starts to count the fall.


    The crowd cheer as Jones starts to get to his feet.


    His face locked into a snarl Sickness starts to bounce the head of the Hall of Fame hater off of the canvas while the referee tries to make him release Craig and stand up. Out of nowhere Lucian runs in and connects with a massive boot to the side of Sickness’s head, knocking the Wounded Animal out of the ring.

    PH: Jones sure does like to send people out of the ring…

    JR: Jones hooking the leg of Van Dam.

    The referee drops and starts the count.


    PH: Typical that Jones tries to steal someone else work.


    JR: That’s a tad racist Paul.

    PH: Are you Lil Mike?


    Lucian barely skips a beat as he gets to his feet, dragging CVD up by his head. The two men hesitate as they see Sickness on the ring apron, the split second giving him enough time to springboard himself over the top rope.

    JR: Double cross body by Sickness! And he’s covering both men!

    The official drops down to count the pin.


    PH: Do you think Sickness thinks its an elimination match?


    JR: I’m not sure he thinks to be honest.

    THRE… kickout by both CVD and Lucian Jones. Not missing a beat Sickness runs to the corner, jumps to the top turnbuckle and waits.

    JR: Sickness perched on the turnbuckle like a monstrous bird of prey. Like a pterodactyl from eons past.

    PH: You need to stop watching The Discovery Channel.

    As Lucian starts to get to his feet Sickness launches himself off the top, rotating backwards in a shooting star manoeuvre before crashing down knees first into the head of the now crouching triple Crown champion.

    JR: Modified November Echo! And that’s all she wrote folks, I cant see even Lucian Jones kicking out of that.

    The Mini Monster quickly covers the King of Cool and the zebra drops down to count the fall.


    CVD starts to stir a couple of feet away.


    The Durham native spots the cover and lunges at Sickness.

    THR…. CVD breaks up the cover with fractions of a second to spare as the crowd boos!

    JR: Craig Van Dam seemingly forgetting that he doesn’t lose this match if Sickness gets the first fall.

    PH: It’s the instinct of a natural born wrestler JR. CVD is working on automatic and STILL is a better wrestler than Sickness and Jones. Huh, sounds like a TV cop show.

    The Sick One quickly clambers to his feet and looks down at the two exhausted wrestlers on the ground. Sickness slowly stretches out his left leg and massages the knee. As Craig starts to drag himself up Sickness takes a run at the ropes, the momentum from hitting them adding speed to the run of Sicky. Just as CVD gets to his feet Sickness leaves his and lands a massive dropkick to the chest of the former champion.

    JR: Nice dropkick from Sickness there. But I have to question the tactic, especially with him seeming to have issues with his knee again! In a match like this sacrificing yourself to beat a single, or even two, opponents leaves you open to the rest of the combatants.

    PH: That’s true JR. I’m not a fan of Sickness, he’s lost his edge, but he can still be dangerous and can never be counted out. But he’s getting old, hell until this last year did anyone know Boyo was old enough to have a fully grown son? Combine that with his high impact brawling style and you have a recipe for a broken down body.

    The Mini-Monster gets hold of Jones and drags the champ woozily to his feet.

    JR: Well broken down or not, if there’s one thing Sickness has proven time and time again, it’s that he will not quit until his body absolutely gives out him.

    PH: Well dependant on the outcome of this match, it may not be Sickness’ decision as to whether he quits or not.

    Sickness takes just a second too long pulling Lucian to his feet, allowing His Highness of Flyness time to fling both arms up, swatting the hands of the Sickstar away. Jones flicks out a right hand, slapping Sickness clean on the left cheek, staggering the only Ultimate Champion back a step or two.

    JR: Good grief, Jones lands a hell of a stinger to Sickness there...but what’s this? Jones isn’t following up?

    Sickness rubs his reddened cheek, a gleeful look in his eye, as Lucian jaw jacks at the challenger.

    JR: Now’s not really the best time to be having a conversation, wouldn’t you say?

    PH: In this kind of match every second counts, so I don’t understand why Jones isn’t going on the offensive?

    Sickness too joins in the smack talking, both he and Jones approaching each other in the centre of the ring. We can’t make out exactly what’s being said, but we can see Sickness gesturing towards his own waist, using both hands to make the universal wrestling sign language for “me want title belts”.

    PH: We’re here to see a wrestling match damnit! Not a mother’s meeting!!

    As the two men continue to argue in the centre of the ring, a duelling chant breaks out between the capacity crowd in the arena:





    As Jones and Sickness continue to argue and bicker, the camera picks out CVD rising back to his feet, rubbing his chest gingerly.

    JR: Well it seems like one third of this match so far has been forgotten about Paul.

    PH: You never take your eyes off Craig Van Dam, Jim. This man can strike from anywhere at anytime, which makes him one of the, if not THE most dangerous man in this business!

    With a look of rage on his face, Van Dam charges towards the unsuspecting Sickness and Jones...

    JR: Van Dam on the attack...

    ...only to find both men parting like the Red Sea! Both Jones and Sickness grab CVD by the back of the head, running him towards the ropes, flinging him up and over the top and crashing down to the outside...


    PH: Nooooooo!!

    ...before stepping back towards the centre of the ring, still locked in their inaudible war of words.

    JR: Well obviously Jones and Sickness were paying more attention than we gave them credit for!

    Sickness and Jones continue to argue, the Mini-Monster prodding a finger into the chest of the Triple Crown Champion to get his point across. Lucian responds to this by giving Sickness a shove back...

    PH: Uh-oh.

    ...which is responded to by Sickness shoving Jones right back.

    JR: Hold on folks, it looks like business could be about to pick up!

    Lucian cocks a sly half smile, almost as if saying to himself “here we go”, before launching forwards and cracking a right handed shot to the face of the Sickstar...

    PH: Ooof! I felt that one!

    Sickness replies with a right hand of his own, cracking the King of Bling cleanly on the jaw, causing Jones to stagger back a step.

    JR: Wow, a scorching right hand from Sickness! I think everybody in the arena felt that one!

    Sickness fires up, landing right hand after right hand to Jones, backing the champion up into the ropes. Sicko pushes Jones back, arcing the Duke of Jonestown’s back over the top rope, before landing a stinging knife edge chop across the champion’s chest.


    PH: That had to hurt!

    Lucian leans forward, coughing for breath, his arms crossed protectively over his rapidly reddening chest. Not being well renowned for his merciful attitude, sickness pulls Jones arms away, grasping the King of Bling by the throat, and again forcing him to arc over the top rope, displaying his chest as a nice big target. Sickness licks the palm of his free hand, before grinning sadistically and bringing it down hard on the exposed chest of Jones with a resounding “THWAKK!”


    Lucian falls forwards this time, dropping to his knees, his arms again instinctively crossing over his torso to attempt to protect himself.

    JR: Well the champion looks to be in a bad way. Those blows from Sickness would appear to have knocked the air clean out of the lungs of His Highness of Flyness!

    Jones gasps for breath as Sickness drags him back to his feet by his hair. Sickness again backs Jones into the ropes, this time electing to fire the champion towards the opposite strands.

    JR: Jones sent for the ride here, and what evil intentions could Sickness have in mind?

    As Jones hits the strands and rebounds back towards Sickness, The Mini Monster leaps towards Jones, throwing his right arm towards the throat of the Sultan of Swagga...

    PH: He’s looking to take Jones’ head clean off!!

    ...which Lucian manages to somehow duck beneath...

    JR: But the champ avoids it! Jones hitting the ropes again...

    Lucian continues his journey, hitting the ropes and returning towards the turning Sick One...

    JR: Jones just steamrolls Sickness with that shoulder block! Did you see Sickness’ head bounce off the canvas? That was not a good landing!

    Jones stands over Sickness, looking down at the dazed former Ultimate Champion, before hitting the ropes to his right.

    JR: Jones is looking to build up some momentum he...what the?

    As Lucian hits the ropes, he suddenly drops face first to the canvas. As the camera angle changes to give us a better view, we can see that CVD has gripped both ankles of Jones, and yanks him roughly out of the ring.

    PH: What did I tell you? You can’t take your eyes off Van Dam for a second. Stealth, speed, agility, all reasons why Craig is The Total Package!

    Van Dam grabs Jones by the hair, dragging him backwards across the ringside area, and crashing his back and back of his head into the ringside barricade.


    PH: Now that’s more like it!

    JR: Just unrepentant violence from Van Dam there...and now look at this!

    Craig smirks at the jeering crowd, slowly raising both hands and gesturing to himself 3 times with the old “three thumb salute”.


    : Van Dam isn’t making any friends tonight!

    PH: Who needs friends when you’re going to end the night as Triple Crown Champion?!

    In the ring The Mini Monster has recovered his wits and looks up at the clock counting down on the TWOTron, we have only 12 seconds until the next wrestler enters the match! Sickness grins and leans back against the ropes to relax as Jones and CVD continue to fight outside the ring. As the clock reaches 10 the crowd starts to count down alongside it.

    Crowd: TEN

    JR: Sickness doing the smart thing here!

    Crowd: NINE!

    PH: Not quite as stupid as you thought JR.

    Crowd: EIGHT!

    JR: I never said stupid! I said he was unwise.

    Crowd: SEVEN!

    Craig and Lucian, seemingly unaware of the countdown, start to brawl up the ramp with neither man having the upper hand.

    Crowd: SIX!

    PH: Seems to be the same difference to me JR.

    Crowd: FIVE!

    JR: It would do, considering your terrible grasp of the English language.

    Crowd: FOUR!

    PH: What’s that supposed to mean?

    Crowd: THREE!

    JR: See what I mean?

    Crowd: TWO!

    PH: Come on Barry Gower, show these guys how to wrestle.

    Crowd: ONE!


    The crowd explode into boo’s as the music of The Master of Pain blares out over the arena speakers. Sickness grins, he cant wait to get his hands on Gower again after the last month or so. CVD and Jones just continue to brawl near the top of the ramp.

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the next competitor. Weighing in tonight at 285 pounds, from Belfast, Northern Ireland, he is Baaaaaaarry Gooooweeeer!

    The Belfast Monster charges out from behind the curtain and slams his massive arms into both CVD and Lucian Jones, the double clothesline sending both men crashing to the metal ramp.

    JR: BAH GAWD! Gower nearly decapitating Craig Van Dam and Lucian L Jones!

    In the ring Sickness waves at The Bazman, indicating to the Belfast Bully to ‘bring it’, and Gower isn’t planning on disappointing. Baz charges to the ring, a massive smile on his face, and slides in under the bottom rope before quickly getting to his feet and walking straight up to Sickness. The two old enemies go toe to toe, both talking what we can only assume to be trash, though with Sickness it could be his laundry list!

    PH: Barry Gower showing he’s not intimidated by Sickness. Sickness showing he’s stupid by not respecting the prowess of Gower and just trash talking here.

    JR: Sometimes I wonder if double standards register in your brain at all! Jones back up to his feet now.

    Sickness takes a step backwards and suddenly drops to the mat and rolls onto his stomach. As Gower looks on in confusion The Sick One raises his left foot into the air and starts giggling to himself.

    JR: Sickness offering himself for an Ankhell Lock!

    PH: Now that really is stupid.

    Barry grabs hold of Sickness’s ankle and twists! Sickness starts to writhe in pain as Gower twists with all his strength, but he doesn’t submit. The Sick One alternates between grinning and grimacing as he slowly tries to drag himself over to the ring ropes.

    JR: Maybe Sickness is trying to prove a point to Barry Gower, no excuses for him not being able to make Sickness submit. Sickness allowing Gower to apply that deadly submission hold while he’s at full strength and fresh into the match.

    PH: And can Sickness escape? This could is the proverbial immoveable object and irresistible force.

    As the fingertips of The Mini Monster brush the bottom rope Gower forcibly drags Sickness back into the middle of the ring. The crowd starts to boo as The Master of Pain kicks Sickness in his raised knee, the one still damaged from months back. The boos become cheers when from out of nowhere Jones flies into the ring and hit’s a massive forearm smash to Gower, sending the near 300 pounder to the outside.

    JR: Considering he’s a heavyweight Lucian Jones can fly with the best of them, not unlike both Sickness and Crag Van Dam.

    PH: Do I look like I care JR? Do I? Really? Because if I do then I’m giving out the wrong impression.

    JR: A touch of an over-reaction there Paul.

    PH: Barry Gower was about to score the first win of the match, by making SICKNESS submit, and all you can do is jabber on about Jones.

    Jones quickly gets to his feet and takes a step towards the ring ropes, preparing to propel himself over the top when Sickness suddenly rolls up Lucian with a schoolboy pin! The referee quickly drops down and starts to count the fall.


    JR: Sickness could be about to score the first pin of the match,


    PH: Hahaha, Sickness taking advantage of Jones, I love it!

    THREE!!!!! Kickout.

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen the first fall at 17 minutes 15 seconds, and so interim champion, Siiiickneeessss!

    The crowd reaction is mostly positive, but a few people are booing that he pinned Jones. Lucian himself is looking annoyed at having been pinned by such a basic manoeuvre. The Sick One and The King of Bling get to their feet at the same time, the two friends locking eyes. Jonesy shakes his head in disgust, getting pinned is one thing but being Pearl Harboured!? Not cool Sickness, not cool.

    JR: Now this match has changed, now Sickness has to ensure that nobody else scores a pin or submission or his advantage will be destroyed.

    PH: Oh my, things are about to get bad for Sickness. An angry Jones in the ring, Barry Gower climbing back in behind him and Craig Van Dam climbing in the opposite.

    With all four men back in the ring the crowd start to get excited again, the buzz from the pinfall not even having had time to abate before dialling back up! Each of the foursome are looking focused, even the fun loving Jones is intent on the men around him. CVD makes a lunge at Lucian, but pulls back as Jones directs a punch at his head.

    JR: Mexican stand off here Paul E. Nobody wants to make the first move and risk taking punishment.

    PH: Why Mexican? Are you racist JR?

    JR: I’m not racist, I’d rather have Lil Mike on commentary than you.

    Sickness looks from side to side before shrugging and lunging at Gower. The momentary distraction allowing Van Dam to attack Jones again, more successfully this time. A double axe handle to the back of Sickness’s neck knocks the interim champ to the mat, moments later Jones slams down besides him after a vicious uppercut from the Durham high flier. CVD and Bazza exchange glances of mutual approval, their close history enabling them to work together without verbal communication. Of course the fact that the history was almost entirely as foes explains why the moment Gower bends down to grab Sickness CVD charges in!

    JR: Van Dam with a Codebrea… no, Gower’s caught Van Dam in mid leap!

    Van Dam lands a couple of punches to the head of his former ‘owner’, but The Former King Of The Mountain keeps his grip on the smaller man before taking a couple of steps forwards and posing.

    PH: Now THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is how to showboat!

    Gower tenses his body and throws CVD over his head! The body of the Durham native lands on top of Sickness, knocking the wind out of his body! Gower turns around to continue the assault but is cut off by a boot to the stomach from the now vertical Lucian Jones. The Ambassador of Awesome moves around to the back of Gower and wraps his arm around the neck of the bigger man, pulling his body backwards until Barry is trapped in a Dragon Sleeper.

    JR: We all know what’s going to happen next! Its time for Barry Gower to get K.T.F.O.’ed!

    Jones salutes the fans and leaps over Gower, driving the head of the Belfast native into the mat! Jones drops down and hooks the leg of Gower for the pinfall and the official counts the pin.


    PH: At least if Jones wins we get rid of Sickness!


    JR: Sickness breaking up the fall! Jones rolling to the outside to reco… OH! Dropkick to Sickness from Craig Van Dam.

    PH: Sickness knocked to the outside, this is Craigs chance!

    CVD has hooked the leg of Gower and the official drops to count the pinfall.


    JR: Jones and Sickness both back to their feet on the outside.


    JR: Sickness slamming Jones into the steel steps.


    TC: Ladies and gentlemen the latest fall at 19 minutes and 10 seconds of the match, and new current interim champion, Craig Van Daaaaaaaam!

    Craig jumps to his feet, arms raised in the air in celebration as the crowd boo!


    Behind the high flier Sickness stands up like a leviathan from legend and wraps one arm across the neck of Craig to pull CVDs right arm across his own throat while trapping the right arm of The Sick One between CVDs arm and head. The Mini Monster falls backwards, dragging Craig down with him, and applies a body scissors to squeeze the breath out of Van Dams body.


    Craig tries to escape the hold, but Sickness has it locked in perfectly and the Durham native is virtually paralysed in his grip! Moments later CVD taps desperately and the referee tells The Sick One to release the hold.

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen, the most recent fall, by means of submission, has been scored at 19 minutes and 16 seconds of the match by the new interim champion Siiiiickneeeessssssss!

    Sickness releases the Tazmission and rolls away from the coughing CVD, eyes darting from side to side as he checks to make sure nobody is close enough to score a pinfall over the Northerner and so negate his submission.

    PH: That’s typical Sickness, he wouldn’t even give someone a chance to celebrate before attacking them from behind.

    JR: Those are the rules of the match Paul E, if Craig left himself open to attack he has nobody but himself to blame. Sickness took advantage of Craig Van Dams error, an error you normally wouldn’t associate with a veteran like Craig.

    Gower climbs back onto the apron, but Sickness spots him and charges at the Belfast monster before dropkicking him back to the ground! The distraction allowing Lucian Jones to slide into the ring before The Mini Monster can do anything to stop him. Jones and Sickness stare at each other across the ring as Craig, ignored by everyone, starts to pull himself to his feet with the ring ropes.

    PH: Listen to those fans JR, they’re cheering on Craig Van Dam to get to his feet. They cant wait to see him beat the crap out of dumb and dumber there.

    The two fan favourites charge at each other, Jones aims a clothesline at the SickStar. Sickness ducks, spins around and swings a punch at Lucian. The Jonestown native blocks the strike and throws a punch of his own that catches Sickness right in the temple and staggers him backwards. Jones follows up with a second, then a third! A fourth punch staggers The Mini Monster back into the ropes. On the outside Gower grabs the legs of his former ERE foe and trips him to the ground before pulling him outside the ring. Before Lucian can follow to the outside CVD spins him around and Irish whips him to the ropes.

    JR: Here we go Paul, 10 seconds until the next, and final, entrant into this match!

    Crowd: TEN!

    Jones rebounds and is caught with a spinning heel kick to the face, sending him crashing to the canvas.

    Crowd: NINE!

    Craig launches himself into the air from standing and rotates before gravity retakes over and he falls to the mat, dropping an elbow into the chest of the downed Spokesman of Supercoolness. The spectacle of the manoeuvre stopping the crowd from counting down and causing them to applaud and cheer!

    PH: Once again Craig showing the innovation that earned him the Triple Crown.

    JR: Van Dam pinning Jones, but hes failed to hook the leg.


    Crowd: SIX!


    Crowd: FIVE!

    THR…kickout by Jones!

    Crowd: FOUR!

    On the outside of the ring Sickness and Barry Gower are exchanging punches, the Beast from Belfast landing two punches to every one of Sickness’s, and yet the smaller man seems to somehow be getting the edge over Gower!

    Crowd: THREE!

    JR: Here we go Paul, prepare for Edward Samson!

    Crowd: TWO!

    Sickness lands a knee into the midriff of Gower, doubling over the Belfast native.

    Crowd: ONE!!!!!!


    The crowd EXPLODE into cheers as The Executioners music starts to play. On the outside Sickness and Gower stop brawling and turn to face the ramp, in the ring Jones and Van Dam get to their feet and prepare for Samson to appear! Every soul in the match preparing for the arrival of the biggest, and arguably most dangerous, man in the match.

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the final competitor in this scramble match; weighing in tonight at 355 pounds, he is The Executioner Edward SAAAAAAAMSOOOOOON!

    The fan noise escalates as Special Ed steps into view, the roar of the crowd energising the monster. Ignoring Sickness Gower marches up towards the top of the ramp, his Alpha Male instincts aroused by another bull-like man monster in the vicinity. The Masked Monstrosity spots Gower heading towards him and storms down to meet him.

    JR: Bah Gawd Paul, look at this! Barry Gower and Edward Samson, two of the biggest guys in TWOStars history. This will be a sight for the ages.

    PH: Do you remember the Edward Samsons Triple Crown win in the submissions elimination chamber? Samson made Barry Gower submit, only the second man to achieve that feat. Now its time for Barry to get revenge!

    Gower holds one hand up in the air, challenging the Masked Man to a test of strength as the others look on. Edward doesn’t even hesitate to take up the challenge and locks hands with Gower.

    Crowd: Lets go Samson! *clap, clap, clapclapclap* Lets go Samson!

    The two men grapple with all their might, the face of Samson utterly unreadable behind his mask, but Gower is obviously struggling to stay stood upright! Slowly, inch by inch, The Belfast Bully is forced downwards under the massive force of Edward Samson. As Gower finally drops to one knee Sickness, still at the base of the ramp, starts to applaud. Him and The Executioner may not ever be friends but he recognises raw power!

    PH: HAHAHA! Craig Van Dam has attacked Jones while Jones was busy watching Samson!

    In the ring CVD has Lucian in a hammerlock, Jones reaches for the ropes but the Durham high flier spins Lucian around and throws him over his shoulder in a beautiful snapmare. Craigy follows Jones down and applies a chinlock from behind the stunned Master of Magnificence.

    At the base of the ramp Sickness has moved to one side and is sat on the crowd barrier, not to chat, he’s just busy watching both sets of fighters going at it! Gower is now down on both knees and Sammy isn’t letting up! Special Ed yanks forward and brings his knee up into Gowers chin as it jerks forward, knocking the former ERE member out cold! As Baz slumps to the ground Edward turns his cold, dead eyes onto Sickness and the crowd cheer their approval as they remember the epic battles these two psychopaths have had in the past.

    JR: Edward Samson walking determinedly towards Sickness. Despite the few minutes left in the match Samson is in no rush!

    PH: The Executioner is like a glacier, slow and impersonal, but utterly lethal and unstoppable! Sickness knows this.

    JR: And yet he wont back down from the challenge!

    Sickness gets to his feet and then crouches on the barrier, once Eddie is close enough to him The Sick One launches himself at the far bigger man! The crowd gasp as Samson catches Sickness in mid air and in one fluid motion alters his grip and raises Sickness above his head in a military press. Samson takes a couple of steps towards the barrier and with a massive heave

    JR: OH MY GOD! Sickness has been thrown into the front row! Edward Samson has tossed Sickness into the crowd like hes The Rocks elbow pad!

    PH: Why would Edward Samson be throwing The Rocks elbow pad?

    Now Gower and Sickness have been dealt with Eddie turns to stare at the ring and the two men brawling within. Lucian Jones is slamming the head of Craig Van Dam off of the corner turnbuckle furthest from Samson, a thin trickle of blood starting to appear on the head of the veteran high flier. Jones releases the head of CVD and backs off as Craig falls backwards. The Czar of Crazy Dyslexia (work that one out yourself!) takes a couple more steps backwards, signalling for Craig to get up as he does so… until he backs right into the hulking figure of Edward Samson.

    JR: Whatever plans Lucian Jones had for Van Dam are on the back burner now!

    The Jonestown native puts his hands backwards over his head where they come into contact with the mask of Special Ed. Lucians hands freeze as he realises what he’s touching, and his head drops down in resignation. Slowly Lucian turns around and finds himself eye to eye with the 350 pounder.

    PH: Barry Gower trying to get himself up on the outside, with less than 9 minutes to go he needs to hurry up and get involved again.

    JR: The same could be said for Craig Van Dam and Sickness!

    Both Lucian and Eddie throw punches at the same time, the powerful strike from Samson staggering the Head Honcho of Hip Hop, but the punch from the Black Prince doesn’t even register on Samson! Special Ed follows up on Jones with a second punch, then a massive head butt fells the defending champion! Lucian L Jones rolls backwards with the momentum and gets to his feet before Eddie can take advantage further.

    PH: Jones doing his impression of a clown once more.

    JR: Clown?! That was some impressive athletics from Lucian Jones!

    As Jones and Samson lock up in a collar and elbow tie up Barry Gower rolls his way into the ring and Craig Van Dam finally gets to his feet. On the outside Sickness is clambering back over the crowd barrier. Finally all 5 men in the match look to be getting into the fight at once, and the crowd know it! The cheers start to build up as Sickness rolls into the ring, so now all five men are eyeing each other warily.

    JR: Here we go Paul, 8 minutes left to go in the match. Sickness is currently the interim champion, can he stay on top?

    PH: If not then we can all sleep happy knowing he’s in the unemployment office rather than wasting TV time.

    As the five men slowly circle each other the crowd continue to get louder and louder, the cheers filling the arena. None of the men seem to want to break the deadlock, each knowing that to make the first move would leave them wide open to an attack from the others. Jones narrows his eyes and stares at Van Dam, but Craig is intently watching Edward Samson! The Executioner has his gaze resting on Gower and the big Brit is focused on Lucian.

    But nobody is paying attention to Sickness!

    The Mini Monster just shrugs and charges at Samson, grabbing the legs of the monster in an attempted double leg takedown. Taking his chance to make a mark Gower takes a quick step forward, then he steps up on the back of Sickness and using the momentum brings his knee up and slams it into the masked face of Edward Samson!

    JR: Modified shining wizard style manoeuvre by Barry Gower! The distraction allowing Lucian Jones to attack Van Dam. Van Dam retaliating, blocked by Jones, Lucian landing a big right hand to CVD and … OH! Low blow by CVD!

    As Sickness, Gower and Samson brawl on one side of the ring CVD is laying into Jones with some amazingly accurate blows to the head. Craig grabs the head of the Man They Call Lucian (Brummies aren’t great with nicknames) and pulls it between his thighs while yelling ‘Its Time’. Craig pulls up and drops down, slamming the head of the champ off of the mat!

    PH: PACKAGE PILEDRIVER! that’s it, its all over now!

    JR: Craig Van Dam wanting to make certain Lucian is put away and is going to the top rope.

    With an almost agonising lack of speed the Durham native climbs to the top rope in preparation for the Frog Splash! CVD makes it to the top and gets to his feet, suddenly Gower sprints across the ring and runs up the corner post, hoisting CVD onto his shoulders as he does so! Bazza takes a deep breath, mutters something that we cant quite catch and then launches himself and Craig form the top…


    PH: NOOOO!

    The crowd go freakin apesh*t as CVD is slammed to the mat, the back of his neck impacting with enough force to bounce the smaller man to the side and out of the ring!

    JR: MY GOD! A top rope Burning Hammer! Is there any move as devastating as that?!

    PH: Devastating? The most devastating thing is he did it to Craig! He should have used it on Jones!

    As Sickness slams the face of Edward Samson off of the corner pad Barry Gower looks around, almost in confusion. The Belfast native spots the still prone Jones and quickly covers him, hooking the leg and placing his elbow across Jones’s throat. The camera catches Barry say ‘stay down’ at Lucian as the referee drops to count the pin.


    JR: Did the package piledriver do enough damage? Will Lucian be able to kick out?


    PH: The Package Piledriver is so deadly JR!


    The crowd start to boo as Jones fails to kick out from the pin. Gower slowly gets to his feet as Chimmel starts to speak.

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen, the most recent fall…

    While Gower is looking the other way Sickness quickly covers the still prone Lucian Jones.

    TC: …has been scored at 23 minutes and 46 seconds of the match.


    TC: And your current interim champion


    TC: Barry Gooooooweeeeeer!


    Hearing the pinfall being counted Gower turns just in time to see the final count being made! The Master of Pain lunges at Sickness but is cut off by a clothesline from Edward Samson!

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen the most recent fall in the match, at 23 minutes and 56 seconds of the match, was scored by the new interim champion Sickneeeeessss!

    JR: Tonight Sickness has taken every chance he possibly can to make sure he walks away with the Triple Crown… and his job. And listen to the crowd cheer, they don’t want to lose him.

    PH: They may be out of luck.

    Sickness backs off to one corner of the ring and watches Samson and Gower fight it out! The Belfast Bastard slams a meaty fist into the face of Edward Samson, but again the Masked Master of Magnificent Mayhem doesn’t react!

    JR: Samson is a machine!

    PH: Like a terminator.

    JR: A what?

    PH: Thirty year old pop culture, you’ll understand sometime in the next decade.

    A second punch fails to phase Special Ed, then a third just makes him slowly shake his head and Gower starts to back off… and falls over the now crouching Lucian Jones! The Jonestown native hooks the leg and neck of Gower, but before the referee can drop to count the pinfall Sickness darts in and stomps on the back of Jones in order to break the pin!

    JR: Uh oh Paul, a medical team is at ringside checking on Craig Van Dam. That Burning Hammer must have caused far more damage than we thought.

    As the EMTs place CVD on a stretcher Edward Samson lifts Jones to his feet and tosses the slimmer man into the corner before starting to throw punches into the midriff of the champ. Sickness looks around and grins at the carnage around him before soccer kicking Gower as the former King of the Mountain tries to get to his feet!

    JR: Sickness with a Pele.

    PH: God damn it, I hate Sickness, possibly as much as I hate any man on the damn planet.

    JR[/b[: In just over 5 minutes if things stay as they are, he will be the new TWOStars Triple Crown Champion.

    PH: Thanks for the reminder.

    Samson causes Jones to drop to his backside in the corner which gives The Sick One the opening to move in behind The Executioner and hit him with a forearm right into the right side of his body.

    JR: Sickness with a shot right to the kidneys and monster or no monster, Samson will have felt that.

    Edward turns around and angrily drives the inside of his arm into the throat as he takes the current interim champion down to the canvas via the use of a hard hitting lariat.

    PH: Pin him!

    The Executioner quickly drops to the ground where he hooks the leg of Sickness, looking for the pinfall.


    PH: That’s it.


    PH: Come on!!

    Th…. Sickness rolls out the shoulder.

    Crowd: TWO!!

    JR: Sickness clinging on, Paul.

    PH: Come on, anyone. I would even rather Jones got a pinfall damn it!

    JR: CVD is away on the stretcher leaving Sickness with just three other men now to worry about.

    Gower makes his way back up to his feet where he grabs Samson from behind and spins him around taking him in to a front face lock as he looks to hoist him up into the air to execute a vertical suplex. However The Executioner manages to use his left leg to block off any attempts to lift him up into the air.

    JR: Nice block by Samson.

    Jones quickly moves out of the corner and grabs Gower around the neck as both he and Samson hoist Gower up in to the air and move over to the side of the ring where the rampway leads to the squared circle.

    JR: This doesn’t look good for The Master of Pain!

    The King of Bling and The Executioner just toss Gower over the top rope and causing him to fall straight down, face first on to the arena floor. The crowd cheer as the body of the Belfast Bastard impacts with the mats and lays still.

    PH: Dammit! Barry Gower looks to be knocked cold, and with four and a half minutes left of the match he needs to recover damned quickly!

    Sickness charges at the two men stood by the ropes, but somehow they sense him coming and sidestep apart. As Sickness tries to stop his momentum Samson grabs the back of his head and just throws the SickStar over the top rope, sending him crashing onto the body of Barry Gower!

    JR: And that leaves just two in the ring!

    PH: Lucian L Jones and Edward Samson… Samson is such a waste JR! When he was with Thorp he has limitless potential, now he’s just a damned puppy dog.

    JR: Puppy dog? Edward Samson is a masked pitbull!

    Samson and Jones lock up next to the ropes, Eddie quickly gets the advantage and Irish whips the lighter Lucian into the opposite ropes. Jones springs back, ducks a clothesline, rebounds from the ropes, ducks an elbow, spins on the spot and

    JR: Spinning heel kick! Edward Samson is staggered! For the first time tonight Edward Samson is looking in trouble!

    As Special Ed staggers backwards Lucian quickly gets to his feet and lands a massive dropkick to the chest of Samson, again Jones quickly gets back up and aims a nasty kick at the thigh of Samson. As the Masked Monster lifts his leg in pain Jones lands yet another dropkick to the chest of Samson and this time the impact is enough to knock the big man off of his feet to a massive pop from the crowd!

    JR: Jones is fired up! Four minutes left in the match and he knows he needs to score the fall. The question is, can Edward Samson be pinned in that time?

    PH: Good question JR. We know that Samson has a massive tolerance for pain, but even the man with the highest endurance can be felled with a single well aimed punch.

    Lucian mounts the chest of Eddie and starts to throw punches to the skull of the monster. Each blow bounces the head of Edward off of the mat, doubling the damage to Samson.

    JR: Lucian Jones working over the head of Edward Samson, I assume in preparation for either the Ghetto Blaster or the KTFO.

    Lucian quickly gets to his feet and throws a fist up into the air in salute to the crowd. Amazingly this two second break is all it takes for Samson to be able to start to climb to his feet! Jones charges at Samson and throws himself at the Executioner, attempting a Stinger Splash away from the turnbuckle. Edward roars in anger and just swats Lucian to the ground in mid leap like King Kong with a biplane! Edward Samson looks around to the TWOTron to check the time left, the screen display showing us we have 3 minutes 47 seconds left of the match.

    PH: Where’s Barry Gower? Is he still down?

    JR: He certainly is Paul E, both Gower and Sickness are laid out side by side outside the ring. More importantly look at Edward Samson! He has Lucian Jones held up over his head like he weighs nothing.

    The Dead Eyed Killer drops Jones down to the mat in front of him, his face following the fall all the way! After Lucian impacts with the ground Samson lands a massive kick to the ribs of the champ, the power lifting His Highness of Flyness off the ground for a second! As Edward lands a second kick, seemingly slow but with massive force, on the outside The Sick One starts to climb to his feet, blood showing on his teeth!

    PH: Oh great! That’s Sickness back in the match. Why are the three men left in the ones I want to lose?

    JR: Your inability to correctly judge a wrestler?

    PH: Cant be, I hired Chris Benoit, Mike Awesome and Taz.

    JR: A murderer, a suicide and a fat announcer. Well done.

    PH: Yeah, God help us having fat announcers.

    Eddie sits on the back on Jones and pulls the arms of Lucian over his knees before grabbing the King of Bling around the neck and pulling back. Immediately Jones yells out in pain.

    JR: The Stocks! The Stocks! The Stocks! Edward Samson has Lucian Jones trapped in that hellish submission manoeuvre. A move that Jones himself uses and calls The Sheiky Special in tribute to the great Iron Sheik.

    Slowly the body of Edward Samson pulls back further and further, the Murder Machine is in no rush, slow and steady wins the race! Referee Doan is on his knees in front of the champ, asking if he wants to give up. The Man They Call Lucian (as that’s his name) grunts out that No he’s not giving in. Jones tries to push backwards, hoping to dislodge the massive form of Edward, but The Masked Murder Machine refuses to budge and Jones is starting to waiver.

    PH: Whats that idiot doing now?

    The Mini Monster has positioned himself on the top turnbuckle, his face excited by the danger to come. With a massive leap Sickness launches himself off the top and twists his body in a picture perfect shooting star press. As Sickness impacts Samson, breaking up the submission, the crowd starts to chant.


    The former Dark Alliance member rolls away in pain, the impact on Samson really taking it out of him. The Major of Mayhem gets to his feet, slowly, deliberately, despite the little over 3 minutes left of the match Samson is in no rush. He knows he is unstoppable. The Masked Monster turns around to look at the grimacing Sickness and quickly eliminates him as a threat in his mind before turning back to Lucian Jones, but that couple of seconds was enough for His Highness of Flyness to recover and struggle to his feet and so Eddie turns right into a massive punch to the side of his head.

    LLJ: DO

    Jones lands a second punch and the crowd starts to chant along.

    LLJ: YOU




    LLJ: WHO


    LLJ: I


    LLJ: AM

    *pun…* Samson ducks the last punch, gets behind Jones and punches… Jones blocks and



    The crowd cheer as the final punch knocks special Ed to the ground. Lucian bounces from the ropes and drops an elbow onto the chest of The Beast. Lucian stays down and hooks the leg of Samson and the referee quickly counts the fall.


    JR: The champ is about to get his belt back safe and sound!


    PH: From an elbow drop? Is he The Rock?

    THR…kickout with one hell of a lot of force! The momentum from the kickout spinning both men over and Lucian takes advantage of the movement, twisting his legs around those of Edward Samson and locking in a small package! The referee restarts the count.


    JR: Oh no, a pin from a small package, who does he think he is? Bob Backlund?


    PH: Sarcasm doesn’t become you JR.


    The crowd EXPLODE into cheers as their hero gets back on track!

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen, the latest fall is at 28 minutes and 3 seconds of the match, and your NEW interim champion Lucian L Joooooones!

    The Sick One forces himself up and runs at Lucian, slamming into his back and collapsing the two of them to the mat. Sickness grabs the back of Jones’s head and starts to slam his forehead into the canvas. After the fifth slam of the head Jones goes limp and Sickness quickly changes position and locks the Sicknote Tazmission onto the dazed Lucian L Jones.

    JR: Throughout this match Sickness has been determined to keep on top, I don’t know which matters most to him, winning the Triple Crown or not being fired!

    PH: I just hope Jones can hold on, the less I see of Sickness the better!

    Jones raises his hand ready to tap…

    … and brings it down three times in quick succession! The referee signals for the bell as the crowd reaction is split almost down the middle between cheers and boos.

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen the latest fall is by submission at 28 minutes and 57 seconds of the match. Your NEW interim champion Siiiickneeeesssss!

    The Sick One jumps to his feet and looks around just in time to see Edward Samson charging at him. Samson smashes into Sickness like a bulldozer and the much smaller man is knocked again out of the ring! Thankfully for him he doesn’t land on Gower this time! Special Ed spins around and quickly moves to Jones before dragging the Prince of Perfection to a vertical base.

    JR: Only 57 seconds left of the match now! Can either of these men score a fall? Or will Sickness walk out of here with the Triple Crown and his job?

    Samson throws the left arm of Jonesy over the back of his neck and pulls the Most Super of Superstars over in a suplex, but at the apex of the move Jones manages to twist his body and land on his feet behind the Masked Monster, putting his arm around the neck of Samson as he does so. The weight of Jones pulls Edward down into a reverse facelock. The crowd explode into cheers as they realise what’s coming.

    JR: KTFO! That standing Diamond Dust of Lucian Jones is about to come out to play.

    PH: And on the outside Sickness is up again!

    Lucian Legendary Jones leaps up and over Edward Samson, dragging him down and landing in the cutter style impact that could knock out the best of us! Jones rolls Samson over and hooks the leg while referee Doan is in position to count the pinfall.


    JR: And Sickness is back in the ring!


    Sickness drops and elbow, but Jones swiftly moves out of the way and The Mini Monster lands his attack on Eddie rather than The King of Bling! Sickness turns to attack Jones and


    The Sick One eats a massive boot to the face and collapses to the mat. Jones again hooks the leg of Samson and the referee again starts to count.


    JR: Here we go!




    Jones leaps to his feet to celebrate as the crowd e-f*cking-rupt into cheers.

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen the most recent fall has been scored at 29 minutes at 47 seconds of the match and your new interim champion is Luuuucian L Joooooones!

    JR: If Sickness wants to keep his job he has just seconds to go!

    The Sick One shakes his head to clear the cobwebs, the announcement from Tony making him realise he needs to hurry! Jones looks from Sickness to the now stirring Samson, wondering from what direction the next attack will come from.

    PH: Sickness to his feet, Edward Samson starting to get up.

    JR: And just ten seconds to go!

    Crowd: TEN!

    Sickness charges at Jones, but at the last moment Samson explodes up in a burst of speed and lariats Sickness out of his boots! Literally! One of Sickness’s boots flies off and lands outside the ring!

    Crowd: NINE!

    Samson turns around and is caught by a boot to the side of the head, the KTFO knocking him down to the mat!

    Crowd: EIGHT!

    Sickness struggles to his feet, his eyes unfocussed. Lucian shakes his head at Sickness and points up at the timer, begging The Mini Monster to stay down.

    Crowd: SEVEN!

    Sickness takes a wobbly step towards Lucian and the champs head droops as he realises that even now Sickness wouldn’t back down.

    Crowd: SIX!

    Lucian raises his fists ready to fend off any attack from Sickness as The SickStar steps within striking range.

    Crowd: FIVE!

    Suddenly Sickness seems to come to life and he lands a massive kick to the stomach of Jones, doubling the champion over.

    Crowd: FOUR!

    Sickness grabs the head of Jones and hit’s a stunner on the King of Bling! The impact bounces Jones to the ropes and then towards Sickness.

    Crowd: THREE!!!

    Sickness lands a massive DDT to Jones to finish the Cross Infection and rolls the champion over and pins the champion as the referee drops to count the pin.

    Crowd: TWO!


    Crowd: ONE!



    The referee stops the count and gets to his feet as Sickness looks on, devastation showing across his face.

    JR: Too late! Sickness was too late to regain the Triple Crown Championship!

    TC: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner and STILL TWOStars Triple Crown Champion Lucian L Joooooooones!


    As the music of Lucian starts to play the King of Bling starts to get to his feet, still stunned from the Cross Infection. The referee tries to raise Jones’s hand in victory but the Triple Crown Champion shakes off the referee and walks over to the dejected looking Sickness.

    PH: Typical! Jones wanting to rub it in to the loser. And the biggest loser, both in this match and life, is Sickness.

    Jones puts his hand out to Sickness, offering to shake hands in a show of respect. The crowd cheer as Sickness looks around, undecided as to if he should shake it or attack Lucian in anger. The Sick One takes a step back… and grins. The two men shake hands and then Sicky raises Jones’s hand himself.

    JR: AS ever Sickness is a good loser and Lucian Jones is a gracious winner. These two men have battled each other for the last two months, but no matter what he did Sickness just couldn’t topple Lucian from the top of the tower and now its too late.

    PH: And now Sickness is without a job. We never need to see him again!

    JR: Sickness is a genuine legend here in TWOStars Paul, it will be a shame to see him go.

    PH: But go he has to! And so do we as we’re out of time. Goodnight all you at home, make sure you tune in to see a Sickness free Xtreme TV!

    Sickness rolls out of the ring, leaving Jones to celebrate alone as we fade out.
  12. JobberJoe

    JobberJoe Well-Known Member Subscriber

    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Sportsbook Cash:
    £ 1,000
    Writing Credit:

    10 - Andrew
    9 - Dr. ZERO
    8 - Rudie
    7 - JobberJoe
    6 - DC
    5 - Evil Gringo
    4 - Boyo
    3 - dsrchris
    2 - John Hancock
    1 - Darkstar

    Thank you to everybody who voted, and thank you to those who put forward a match.
    I tried to encourage bouts that weren't AS recent, and maybe weren't super obvious so you'd hopefully not remember them specifically.
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.

Share This Page