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Post by Carl on Jan 24, 2007 13:25:59 GMT
 The Puerto Rican crowd go crazy as the theme music for CCW Unleashed, “Breathe” by The Prodigy www.youtube.com/watch?v=zonX0Me6EZ4&search=prodigy%20breathe plays as the opening video shows various CCW Unleashed superstars in action…JR: Hello everyone! We welcome you to Coliseo De Puerto Rico! I'm Jim Ross, here with Paul Heyman and what a slobber knocker of a card we have tonight! Heyman: Yes, tonight we see Griffin Young go one on one with Al Woodbridge. The winner getting a shot at Cowards at Night of The Immortals II. JR: The Underworld defend their Global Tag Titles against the former champions Balistic and Gangsta G. While The Middleweight Tournament kicks off with Sun Ce taking on "Hot Fudge" Doug Soto. Heyman: In the main event World Heavyweight Champion, Josh Violence will face Street Fight Champion, Bulldog in a Unification Match. |
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Post by Carl on Jan 24, 2007 13:26:41 GMT
The camera fades in to a familiar image: Al Woodbridge being the buffoon he was born to be. "The Heartland Hero" stands in his locker room, holding a Guitar Hero controller and staring at a TV screen, trying his best (and failing) to conquer a classic riff, "Iron Man" by Black Sabbath.
Woodbridge: (singing) I! Am! Al Woodbridge! Gonnabethenextnationalchamp-een.... FUCK! Messed up again!
Nick Kelly slides in, holding a microphone. Al Woodbridge pauses the game and turns around, slightly irritated.
Woodbridge: You ever play this game, Nick?
Kelly: Erm, I was sent to interview you, not the other way aro....
Woodbridge: And God Himself sent Al Woodbridge to this earth to kick the ass of those who oppresseth.... the... uh... opress-ed. Answer my question, fella.
Kelly: Sure, I've tried it once or...
Woodbridge: Hard shit, huh?
Kelly: Nah, I take my daily intake of fiber, so...
Woodbridge: I mean, I play real guitar well and everything, but I just can't get a grip on this.
Kelly: Al, you kinda.... suck at guitar. Both real and fake.
Woodbridge: What do you know, dude?
Kelly: Not much about guitar, actually, but I do know that you're slated to take on Griffin Young in a #1 Contenders Match tonight on CCW Unleashed.
Woodbridge: What a lovely bunch of coconuts.
Kelly: There they are a-standin' in a row.
Woodbridge: Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head....
Kelly: You give 'em a flick, a twist of the wrist....
Both: That's what the showman said!
Woodbridge: But.... is that really what the showman said? I mean, come on.
Kelly: Yeah.... I think so. But, about Griffin Young.
Woodbridge: I respect him.
Kelly: Do you think your chan....
Woodbridge: I bet one of us two will win tonight.
Kelly: But if you could pi....
Woodbridge: The better man will win tonight's match. But we're both good.
Kelly: The current national cha....
Woodbridge: Briefs. Now can I have a freakin'.... wait, hold on a second. You were gonna talk about Cowards, weren'tcha?
Kelly: Indeed.
Woodbridge: His entrance music says it all. "Run Like Hell." That's all he ever does. My entrance music says it all. "Born in the U.S.A." We own those toffee-sippin', scone-drinkin', meatstaff-flippin' beef-dippin' sons of bitches any day. And that, my friend, is what the showman said.
Kelly: Uh.... harsh words, from a harsh competitor. Al Woodbridge, ladies and gentlemen.
Kelly steps off-screen as Woodbridge picks up his guitar controller and starts riffing again.
Woodbridge: I'm defeating Griffin Young, he'sprettytoughbutheain'twellhung.....
Fade out.
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Post by Carl on Jan 24, 2007 13:27:32 GMT
Unleashed comes back from commercial, and Michael Buffer is standing in the ring with his mic in hand.
Michael Buffer: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the CCW Global Tag Team Championship!
"Stranglehold" by Ted Nugent hits the speakers and the crowd rises to their feet for Balistic, who steps through the curtain on top of the stage. Fireworks start to fall behind him, and he waits on top of the stage until the first verse of the song kicks in. He then walks down the ramp, not even acknowledging the cheering crowd.
Michael Buffer: Introducing first, from St. Louis, Missouri, weighing in at 270 pounds, BALISTIC!
Once he gets down to the ring, he rolls under the ropes and throws his hat into the crowd. He goes to a corner and sits down, waiting for his tag team partner. His music dies down, and "Just Like This" by Limp Bizkit hits the speakers and the lights go out all around the arena. Multi-colored strobe lights start coming on and it goes off all around the arena. Gangsta G then steps through the curtain and the fans give him a big pop.
Michael Buffer: And his tag partner, from Memphis, Tennessee, weighing in at 225 pounds, GANGSTA G!
In his left hand he's holding his water bottle. He takes a sip and does The Spritz (ala HHH) and as soon as he does that, a white light comes on, and he heads down the aisle. Once he gets near the ring he hops up onto the apron and takes off his coat and throws it on the floor. He's still standing on the apron, where he poses and pyro goes off in the ring. Once it dies down, he steps into the ring where he meets Balistic, and they slap hands. His song dies down, waiting on their opponents.
"Hell" by Disturbed hits the speakers and the fans boo heavily for the tag team champions. The Headhunter and Johnny Maison steps through the curtain, and the fans boo louder. They wait on top of the stage, where fireworks shoot off behind them, and Maison starts running down the aisle, while The Headhunter walks down very slowly.
Michael Buffer: And their opponents, with a total combined weight of 576 pounds, they are the CCW Global Tag Team Champions, the team of Johnny "The Ghost" Maison and The Headhunter, THE UNDERWORLD!
Maison slides under the rope and climbs a turnbuckle, and he soaks in all the boos. He goes to the other corner, and soaks it in. He goes to the third, where Balistic and Gangsta G are. Johnny yells at them to move, but they don't. The ref tries to pull Maison back, but before the ref does, Maison slaps Balistic right in the face!
Ross: Oh come on, what was that for?
Heyman: What a slap, and I loved it!
Maison runs off to the other side of the ring, and Balistic and G follow. Balistic tries to punch Maison but the ref pulls him back. The crowd boos. Headhunter quickly gets into the ring to help out Maison. Both teams yell at each other, and the ref stops them.
Ross: Well if Maison didn't slap Balistic, this wouldn't have happened!
Heyman: Yeah Ross...we know. But he did, and I love it.
The ref calms them down, and then he walks over to The Underworld for their belts. Looking over at Balistic and G, they hand over their belts. The ref stands in the middle of the ring, holding up the titles for everybody to see. He hands them to Buffer, and he walks back to the middle. He looks over to both teams, who are ready to fight, and he signals for the bell!
DING, DING, DING!
Maison and Headhunter discuss who should fight first, and Headhunter steps out so Maison will start. On the other side, Balistic steps out so Gangsta G will start. Maison and G circle the ring, not taking their eyes off each other. They start getting closer to lock up, but Maison steps back to talk to Headhunter. The crowd boos, and G throws his arms up. Headhunter whispers something in Maison's ear, and Maison steps away. Again, they circle the ring and G is on the Underworld's side of the ring, so Headhunter yells at G, who turns around. G punches Headhunter, but he is attacked by Maison.
Heyman: Smart strategy!
Ross: What a cheap shot.
Heyman: Oh, shut up.
Maison stomps on G in the corner, and picks him up. He whips him into the ropes and delivers a shoulder block. Maison smiles and the crowd boos. Maison runs to the ropes, bounces off, and G rolls to him stomach, and Maison jumps over him. G gets up and jumps over Maison. Maison turns around and G delivers a standing dropkick to the face. Maison rolls out of the ring holding his face. You can see blood running out of his nose. He looks at his hands noticing the blood, and he looks back in the ring. He jumps up on the apron, but he quickly goes back down when Gangsta G gives him a running forearm shot. G looks outside, where Maison starts to get up. When he stands, G runs into the ropes and jumps through the second rope with a forearm suicida!
Ross: What a move by Gangsta G!
Both on the ground, G tries to crawl to the apron. The ref starts to count, but G rolls back in. Maison get back to his feet and rolls back in. G stomps on Maison a few times before picking him up. G connects with an uppercut, and another, and another, until Maison falls in the corner. G starts stomping on Maison again and chokes him with his boot. The ref counts and G breaks it up. G steps back for the break, and when going after Maison, Maison pulls G's jeans and sends G face first on the second turnbuckle. Maison crawls over to Headhunter to make the tag. The six foot eight Headhunter steps over the ropes and kicks Gangsta G in the stomach several times. He picks him and and slams him hard to the mat. Headhunter bounces off the ropes and hits an elbow. He goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Gangsta G kicks out. Frustrated, Headhunter picks him up and whips him to the ropes for a HUGE back body drop. G holds on to his back, screaming in pain. Headhunter poses as the crowd boos. Headhunter once again picks him up and punches him a few times before hoisting him up on the turnbuckle. Headhunter climbs up on the second rope and he tries to set up a suplex. G holds on to the ropes, so Headhunter falls back and lands hard on the matt. G stands on the top turnbuckle. Headhunter starts to stagger on his feet. He turns around G connects with a missile dropkick! G crawls over to Balistic and makes the tag. Balistic charges in and gives a woozy Headhunter a clothesline. He delivers another clothesline to Headhunter, and he stands right back up. He runs over to Balistic, but Balistic catches him and nails a belly-to-belly suplex. Balistic pumps up, and waits for Headhunter to get back up. He keeps screaming "Get Up!" over and over as Headhunter is on one leg. Now he is up, and Balistic kicks him in the stomach and sets him up in a suplex position. He picks him up and holds him up for seconds, and seconds, and seconds. The fans applaud.
Ross: Bah gawd, what strength by Balistic!
Heyman: How long is he going to hold him up?
After about 20 seconds, Balistic decides to put him down with the suplex. Headhunter holds his back. Balistic walks over to Headhunter and starts pounding away the head. The ref counts to break it up but Balistic keeps pounding away. The ref then tries to push him off Headhunter and Balistic gets off. Balistic yells at the ref and he yells back. After a few seconds Balistic goes back to Headhunter to pound on him yet again but Headhunter pokes him in the eye and walks over to tag in Johnny Maison. Maison comes in and chop-blocks Balistic, who falls to the mat holding his left leg. Maison stomps on the newly-injured leg, and Balistic screams in pain. Maison picks him up and gives him a shin-breaker. Balistic falls to the ground holding his leg tightly. G yells at Maison, who is looking other way. Maison peeks over to G, who has his back turned the other way, and run over to him and knocks him off the apron hitting the announce table. The fans scream and boo, as Maison walks back to Balistic, who is still holding his left leg. Maison starts to kick Balistic in the leg as he gets up, which cause him to go back down to one leg. Maison helps him up and lands a few punches. He whips him into the ropes but Balistic crashes to the mat. Maison puts his hand on his hips, not knowing what to do with him. On the outside, G starts to pull himself up. Maison grabs his head and pulls him up, and plants him back down with a DDT. Maison motions that it's the end, and he goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Balistic kicks out, shocking Maison. He starts beating on Balistic, who tries to block the shots. Maison sits up with Balistic and applies the sleeper. Balistic waves his arms around trying to break free but no luck. Gangsta G is now on the apron, cheering on Balistic to get out of it. G gets the fans to cheer on, and Balistic raises a fist in the air, and the crowd pops. He tries to get up, but Maison pulls him back down while still locked in. Balistic moves around a bit then he starts to doze off. The fans try to get behind him, but no use. Balistic is out. The ref looks closely at Balistic's face, which is red. The ref raises his arm, and it drops.
ONE!
The ref raises his arm again, and it drops.
TWO!
Gangsta G comes in and breaks it up. Headhunter comes in and tries to attack G but the ref pulls him back. They argue, and G gives Maison a back-cracker. G steps out as the ref turns around. Headhunter gets out, too. The fans try to cheer on Balistic to make the tag. He's on his stomach, crawling inch by inch, his leg in pain. G reaches over the ropes to try to make the tag. Balistic is almost there, but Maison pulls him back. Balistic, out of desperation, kicks Maison in the face and Maison falls back, letting go of Balistic's leg. Balistic crawls over to G and makes the tag! G stays on the apron and waits for Maison to get up. Once he does, G bounces on top of the ropes and hits a springboard cross body. He rolls off and punches Headhunter. G bounces off the ropes and hits a spinning heel kick. G is all pumped up, and the fans love it. G helps Maison up and whips him into the ropes, but Maison reverses it and sends G to the ropes. G charges at Maison, but he gets tossed up in the air. G comes down on Maison's shoulders and delivers a hurricarana which sends Maison out of the ring. G climbs to the top and waits until Maison gains his control. Maison looks up, and he sees G jumping off and nails a crossbody. G gets up, rolls back into the ring and poses for the crowd, which receives a pretty big pop. The ref looks outside the ring, where Johnny is out. He starts to count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Heyman: Get up!
FIVE!
SIX!
SEVEN!
Maison starts to move around but he can't get up. In the ring, G waits, but Headhunter comes in and attacks him. The ref turns and tries to stop it. Maison is now on his knees crawling to the apron.
Heyman: What a great idea by Headhunter! Stopping the ref's count so Johnny Maison can get back in the ring. Genius!
Ross: Oh come on! Balistic and G would have won!
Heyman: But they wouldn't get the titles!
Balistic limps in and pounds on the back of Headhunter but Headhunter pushes him off and send him rolling in the corner. G punches Headhunter multiple times and bounces off the ropes, but Headhunter gives him a boot to the face. Maison rolls back in the ring, and the ref yells at Headhunter to get out of the ring. He does what he's told, and gets out. Balistic is in the corner holding his leg and the ref checks on him. Maison help G up, and gives him a low blow! Maison rolls him up for the pin, and the ref turns and runs over to make the count.
ONE!
TWO!
TH...NO!
G kicks out. Maison pounds the mat in anger. Maison picks G up and slams him. He climbs to the second turnbuckle, screaming to the crowd. He jumps off and tries to connect with an elbow but G rolls out of the way and Maison misses. G, holding his groin, helps himself up with the ropes, followed by Maison. They face each other, and Maison punches G. G nails him back, and they trade blows, until G blocks one of Maison's shots. Maison stumbles back, and G hits him more and more. Maison is now in the corner, sliding down the turnbuckles after all the shots G gave him. G picks him up and gives him a chop.
WOO!
The sound of the chop echoes throughout the arena. G chops him again, and again, and again.
WOO!
WOO!
WOO!
G whips Maison into the other turnbuckle with full force and G connects with a running forearm. Maison's head snaps back and he falls down. G runs to the other corner and runs back and delivers a short dropkick to the face!
AW!
G tags in Balistic, who limps over to Maison. Balistic stomps on Maison a few times with his non-injured leg, and picks him up. He whips Maison over to the other turnbuckle, where Headhunter is. Balistic holds on to his leg, but he fights through the pain and runs over Maison to connect with a forearm, but Headhunter pushes Maison out of the way and Balistic hits the turnbuckle hard. The crowd boos, and Maison tags in Headhunter. Headhunter plays around with Balistic by slapping him in the head and kicking away. Balistic seems pretty pissed off, so he takes down Headhunter and starts pounding away.
Ross: Look at Balistic pounding away! He's possessed!
Heyman: Come on ref, do something!
Balistic gets off and starts stalking Headhunter as he gets up. Balistic takes him down with a clothesline, and another. He whips him into the ropes and nails a back body drop. Balistic picks him up and nails a Spinebuster! Headhunter is down, and Balistic waits in the corner, waiting for him to get up to nail the Spear. His eyes are locked on Headhunter, who starts to rise to his feet. Headhunter is up, turns around, and Balistic charges to him and nails a vicious spear! Balistic says it over, and motions for the Midwest Massacre! Balistic helps Headhunter up and sets him up. He picks him up over his shoulder, and slams down with full force! He goes for the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THR...
Maison runs in and breaks up the count. The crowd boos and Gangsta G charges in and takes out Maison. He rolls out and G follows him. On the outside, Maison walks around the ring and G follows him. G rams his head on the steel post and Maison stumbles over. G picks him up and whips him over to the steel stairs, but Maison reverses it and it's G who rams into the steps. In the ring, Balistic and Headhunter get up and start pounding each other. Balistic nails Headhunter with a right hook to the jaw, and runs into the ropes for a clothesline from hell, but Headhunter ducks and nails the ref! The ref is out cold. Headhunter gives Balistic a boot to the face. Maison gets a belt from the timekeeper and gives it to Headhunter. Headhunter waits for Balistic to get up. Balistic, who wobbles on his feet, turns around and gets nailed with the belt! Headhunter throws it out of the ring and goes for the cover. Of course there is no ref, but another ref from the back comes in and makes the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THR...NO!
Balistic kicks out! Headhunter can't believe it. Maison distracts the ref, and Headhunter picks Balistic up and gives him a low blow, and sets up The Last Ride. He picks him up, pulls him up over his head, and slams him down for the Last Ride! Maison steps out and the ref turns around to go for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Ross: Damn it!
Heyman: YES!
"Hell" by Disturbed hits and the speakers and the crowd boos heavily for the decision. Maison grabs the titles and slides into the ring and hugs Headhunter. He gives Headhunter his belt and they get out of the ring.
Michael Buffer: Here is your winner, and STILL, the CCW Global Tag Team Champions, THE UNDERWORLD!
They raise their titles in the air and the fans boo. They head up the ramp and they turn around to see Gangsta G sliding into the ring to check on Balistic. Balistic is out and G tries to wake him. The Underworld gives an evil laugh and walks through the curtain.
Ross: Balistic put up a good fight, but The Underworld managed to retain their titles. Trust me, this won't be the last time they face each other.
Balistic sits up, and G pats him on the back. They both look down the aisle pissed, as the screen fades to black.
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Post by Carl on Jan 24, 2007 13:28:20 GMT
As the scene opens, we can see nothing bit black until the room begins to light up with candles. As the camera begins to move closer to where the candles are, a shadow rises up as do the lights. A man has his back to us and all you can see is his head and Chinese ceremonial robes draped down his back. All of a sudden there is a flash and the robes fly off as the man begins performing martial arts on a punch bag.
Sun Ce: I am Sun Ce. Decendant of Sun Tzu and Sun Jian. My time has finally come to prove to the world what I am made of. No longer do I have to wait in the shadows until my crowning moment for that is now.
Sun Ce stops practising his martial arts and turns to face the camera.
Sun Ce: I am a long way from my homeland of Guan Du, but that will not stop me from claiming what I deserve. Tonight all of you will get the chance to see why they call "The Dragon of Guan Du". With my mixed martial arts styles, there isn't an opponent on this planet that can prepare for me. Whether it's Karate, Kung Fu or even Jet Kune Do no one will know what I will use on them until it's too late.
Sun Ce then sits on the floor with the lights out and the candles glowing all around him.
Sun Ce: Tonight I make my mark and gain a step towards greatness and to become the first ever CCW Middleweight Champion. You may doubt me and my abilities and that is your mistake my friend.
The camera zooms in as Sun Ce closes his eyes. A clip is then played off Sun Ce competing in RMW in the Cruiserweight sramble match from Cyberslam. Clips are shown of Sun Ce using his martial arts and high risk styles in the match. The scene then changes back to the face of Sun Ce as he opens his eyes.
Sun Ce: Did you like what I showed you? It's irrelevant if you did or didn't. That fact of the matter is that I just gave you a little glimpsed of what I am capable of and tonight you will all get to see it first hand when I take on Doug Soto. And Soto tonight without a shadow of a doubt you will see "The Way of the Dragon"!
As the camera slowly zooms in on Sun Ce he blows out the candles leaving the scene in darkness.
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Post by Carl on Jan 24, 2007 13:28:55 GMT
Michael Buffer: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a match from the 1st Round of the Middleweight Championship Tournament.
"Numb" by Linkin Park hits the speakers to a handful of cheers. CCW debutante Sun Ce comes out with a cloth over his head. He then comes out to the top of the entrance ramp and crosses his arms in the air. As he brings them down in a martial arts motion, fire burns behind him and down the entrance ramp. Once at the ring Sun Ce flips over the ropes and does the cross motion again and fire comes out from the 4 corners of the ring.
Michael Buffer: Introducing first..... from Guan Du, China and weighing in at 218 pounds..... Sun Ce.
As Sun Ce limbers up "One Day Remains" by Alter Bridge starts to play. "Hot Fudge" Doug Soto comes sprinting out of the back as the lights strobe in a gold color to the rhythm of the music. He gets a mixed response with cheers and jeers. He rips off a shirt and tosses his shades into the crowd, focusing on his task at hand. He leaps onto the apron Brock Lesnar-style, and then flips over the ropes and lands on his feet. He dashes, bounding off each set of ropes like Charlie Haas did for a short while. He then gets into his corner and flexes and stretches, getting pumped for his match.
Michael Buffer: His opponent..... from Grove City, Pennsylvania and weighing in at 185 pounds..... "Hot Fudge" Doug Soto.
The referee calls for the bell and the contest begins. The two men circle each other before meeting in the middle of the ring for a collar and elbow tie up. Sun Ce uses his speed to get in behind Soto with a waist lock but Soto shows his own speed reversing the hold. Sun Ce tries to break free but Soto has him locked tight. Finally giving in Sun Ce reaches out and grabs the ropes forcing the referee to step in and break the two apart.
Ross: What a huge night this is gonna be on Unleashed. I'm so excited at the introduction of the new Middleweight Championship.
Heyman: Listen to these fans J.R., they don't no whether to boo or cheer. We've got some nobody in there from China and a tag team wrestler who was suspended for health problems. How exactly is that exciting?.
The two men back away regaining their composure. The two circle again before heading to the center of the ring. Soto looks to tie up but Sun Ce drops to the mat and brings Soto down with him after a single leg take down. Sun Ce tries to roll through to the head of Soto but he is caught in a hammerlock. Before Soto can apply pressure though Sun Ce rolls through and then flips back up onto his feet.
As the crowd begin to cheer Sun Ce keeps up the pace as he hits the ropes. Soto springs to his feet too and cuts off Sun Ce with a Choco-Lariat. Following the move Soto looks for the pinfall.
1...
2...
No
Sun Ce shows experience as he gets his foot on the bottom rope breaking the count. As Soto pulls at his hair in frustration Sun Ce rolls away to the corner and starts to pull himself up with the aid of the ropes.
Heyman: I've haven't seen two guys that quick in the ring since..... well to toot my own horn, the original ECW.
Ross: Speaking of horns you sure have changed your tune. Looks like even Paul Heyman has to eat his own words from time to time. What a shocker.
The fans once again clap to show their appreciation. Sun Ce looks for another lock up but Soto spins in behind and drives a series of elbows into his kidneys. With Sun Ce winded Soto executes a Neckbreaker taking his opponent down to the ring canvas. Instead of going for the cover though Soto snaps Sun Ce in a leg lace. While holding onto the legs Soto tries to pull back the head of Sun Ce. However Sun Ce tries to block it causing Soto to change his plans. He quickly spins around still keeping Sun Ce close to him. He holds the legs and neck of Sun Ce before pulling him into a bow and arrow. Sun Ce at first seems to be in great pain but then shows amazing flexibility as he somehow escapes the bow and arrow landing straight on top of Soto for the quick cover.
1...
No
Soto quickly kicks out and scrambles back to a vertical base. He nods his head in respect of Sun Ce. As the two face off Soto dives forward snapping Sun Ce in a front chancery. Soto drops to his knees putting all his weight on the head and neck of Sun Ce. This sees Sun Ce struggle down to one knee himself.
The fans start to rally behind Sun Ce as he attempts to break free. Soto is forced onto his back still keeping the front chancery locked in. Sun Ce though uses his educated kicks on the stomach of Soto until he is forced to relinquish the hold. As he does Sun Ce grabs his legs placing him in a grapevine. With Soto unable to break free Sun Ce modifies the hold turning it into an Indian Deathlock. The official checks with Soto seeing if he wants to submit. Soto though refuses to give in and even gets a small group of fans cheering his name. He starts to fight his way out of the move so Sun Ce lets go off the hold and grabs his hands. With a greco roman knuckle lock Sun Ce drags Soto to a vertical base. Both men push against each other in a battle of strength.
Ross: These two men are showing just what CCW's Middleweight Division will have to offer. This has been a technical masterclass from two men who can fly as well.
Heyman: The fans don't know who to support. They're so stupid I think they just cheer for who ever is getting his ass kicked the worse.
Sun Ce seems to have the edge as he pushes Soto toward the mat. Soto however starts to bridge his back. He then uses his legs strength pushing back up to his feet. Sun Ce tries to push Soto back down but he jumps up and plants his legs on the thighs of Sun Ce. He then sends him overhead with a monkey flip. Sun Ce somersaults through the air and gracefully lands on both his feet. Soto nips up but Sun Ce sends him straight back down with the Kick of a Thousand Corpses. Followed by a cover.
1...
2...
No
Soto just shoots his shoulder up. Sun Ce wastes no time in pulling Soto to the corner and placing him in a Tree of Woe. He then signals for the end and climbs to the top rope. Soto tries to free his legs as Sun Ce prepares to stomp a hole through his chest. Sun Ce gets to the top rope and balances himself. Just moments before jumping Soto is able to squirm free. As he does he shakes the ropes forcing Sun Ce to fall from the top and lands chest first across the ropes, driving all the air out of his body. Sun Ce lies on the ropes motionless.
Following the whiplash effect Soto pulls Sun Ce roughly off of the ropes straight into a school boy roll up. The referee drops down and makes the count.
1...
2...
3
Michael Buffer: Here is your winner by pinfall..... "Hot Fudge" Doug Soto.
A small amount of the crowd go wild as Soto has his hand raised in victory. Sun Ce lies on the mat with a huge red mark across his chest from the impact of landing on the ropes.
Heyman: Sun Ce made the mistake of going high risk. After a technical contest his desire to go high flying has cost him in this tournament.
Ross: I think you're right Paul. None the less if Soto didn't break free then it would have been all she wrote. This was one tight contest.
Soto heads up the ramp continuing with his celebration. Sun Ce turns away the help of the official clearly angry with himself for losing the contest. Soto gives one more salute to the small number of his fans before heading through the curtain a much happier man.
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Post by Carl on Jan 24, 2007 13:29:44 GMT
As the camera fades in, the screen is almost completely black. Then there is a click and a whir that sounds like the starting of a CD player. Light floods the screen then disappears, and the process repeats quickly several times, as though someone is rapidly toggling a light switch with their hand. The song on the CD begins, and it’s clear someone is singing along.
Man: Space…save me from this space…space…
The main beat kicks in, and the mystery man keeps singing.
Man:
Take these plastic people
Read their lips
Now let it linger
Is there anything that makes them sound sincere?
C’mon
Tightly hold your hand
Take a deep breath
Give them the finger
Are you worried that your thoughts are not quite clear?
TWITCH!
The light switch stays on, and it’s clearly Griffin Young rocking out to his own theme song and reenacting his typical entrance in his locker room. Griffin has a decent singing voice, but that doesn’t at all detract from the comedy of the moment as the crowd laughs heartily. Griffin grabs a water bottle like a microphone and gives his best Michael Buffer imitation as the song continues…
Griffin: “From Winston-Salem, North Carolina, weighing 250 pounds and measuring in at a healthy…”
Most of the audience guesses what the next measurement is going to be in reference to and begins laughing harder as Griffin finally notices the camera filming him and damn near jumps out of his skin as the crowd laughs harder than ever, Griffin’s face rapidly resembling a full thermometer in color.
Griffin: AHH! WHAT THE FUCK?! GET OUTTA HERE!
Griffin rapidly switches off the CD player and attempts to compose himself, his voice embarrassed, a low mutter, punctuated by frequent throat clearing.
Griffin: Sorry ‘bout that, come in, come in…it uh, ahem…seems to work for Al, so I thought I’d give it a shot…
Crowd laughs and cheers.
Griffin: I suppose now’s the time when everybody wants to hear my thoughts on my opponent, the match, and the opportunity. I’ll keep it brief. Al Woodbridge? Tough son of a bitch, and one of the guys I really look up to in this locker room. The match? Oh, it’ll be hellacious, a real battle, but I’ll come out on top, no question in my mind. And now for the more lengthy part…this opportunity. If I win this match, I become the #1 Contender for Cowards’s National Championship.
Crowd pops loudly.
Griffin: This match represents everything. Everything I’ve strived for, and everything that, once upon a time, I thought I would never have. This match is a road to greatness, and I WILL not leave this road ‘till I’ve reached its end. Tonight, I will become the #1 Contender, or die trying. I look forward to facing Al, as he’s one of the only guys in the back who seems to have an idea of what being an Overlooked Soldier is all about. But don’t let that fool you. I will whip Al Woodbridge’s ass out there tonight to get the title shot I so readily deserve. Al, you might wanna take a listen to my theme music again. There’s not a fiber of “running like hell” in my body. Matter of fact, take a listen…
Griffin turns the CD player back on and sings again.
Griffin:
Unbutton your clothes, undress your soul
Show them your vigor
Are those inhibitions easiest to fear?
C’mon
Take this gasoline tin, head up high, walk like a winner…
Griffin walks towards the camera and sings the last line.
Griffin:
Let the bare feet be the last sounds that they hear…
TWITCH!
After yelling TWITCH, Griffin punches the camera and the video feed rapidly cuts out, but one last statement from the “Overlooked Soldier” is heard…
Griffin: Al…tonight, you die Young.
…as the screen slowly fades to black.
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Post by Carl on Jan 24, 2007 13:30:30 GMT
The camera fades in from the arena to show Bulldog training in his locker room, dodging and diving. Nick Kelly knocks and walks in to the locker room.
Nick: Bulldog, may I have a word?
Bulldog: Sure (Starts to do some streches)
Nick: On June 4th 2006 you become the four and now the longest Street Fight Champion in history and tonight that title will be gone for ever, what are your thoughts on this?
Bulldog: Well it's an upsetting time, I have put a lot in to being the Street Fight Champion, but like in anything new era's come around and this is the end of the Street Fight era.
Nick: Tonight you face Josh Violence the first ever Street Fight Champion and current World Champion, do you belive you can walk out World Champion?
Bulldog: Yeah I do, sure Violence might be the so called X-Rated Superstar and Big Daddy but I have proved myself since comming in to CCW, I have beaten some good oponents in my time and I have been through hell and back keeping my title and tonight like any other time I will show Josh that a small guy always has that chance. I am more ready tonight than I have ever been!
Nick: If Josh does come out winner and you lose the Street Fight title will you be enterd in to the Tournament to crown the first Middleweight champion?
Bulldog: IF Josh does win, which he won't find it an easy thing to do then yes I would like to put my name forward to enter the Tournament, I have been through a lot keeping this title and have proved myself so many times and I think that getting another title around my weist is a good thing.
Nick: Will you miss the hardcore style matchs?
Bulldog: Not really, I love wrestling but the hardcore side of it was never a huge thing for me. The injurys I have picked up from them type of matchs will now hopefully be gone from tonight.
Nick: Any final words?
Bulldog: Yeah, Josh, tonight you will be walking in to the ring with a 195 pound man, on normal days you would walk right over them and take their lifes but not tonight, this will be the worst match you have ever been in! Street Fight rules is my play ground now bitch and you wont like it!
Camera fades back in to the arena with the fans chanting Bulldogs name.
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Post by Carl on Jan 24, 2007 13:31:07 GMT
As the camera fades in from black, Michael Buffer is standing in the middle of the ring, ready to announce the next contest.
Buffer: The following contest, scheduled for ONE FALL, will determine the Number One Contender for the CCW National Championship at NIGHT OF THE IMMORTALS!
Crowd gives a thunderous pop as “Born in the USA” hits and “The Heartland Hero” Al Woodbridge makes his way determinedly down to the ring, carrying his trademark guitar.
Buffer: Introducing first, from Chillicothe, Ohio, weighing in at 246 pounds, he is THE HEARTLAND HERO…AL…WOODBRIDGE!
As Woodbridge gets in the ring and begins doing preparatory stretches, the previously flashing red and blue lights in the arena go dim, as do the main lights, which are replaced by strobes. The crowd gives another huge pop as “One Man Army” begins to play. Griffin Young appears from behind the curtain, all business as he marches his way down to the ring.
Buffer: And his opponent, from Winston-Salem, North Carolina, weighing in at 250 pounds, he is THE OVERLOOKED SOLDIER…GRIFFIN…YOUNG!
The crowd continues roaring in approval as Griffin does his trademark countdown taunt to an explosion of pyro, causing the lights to come back up as he enters the ring.
Ross: This crowd is going insane for both of these gladiators, Paul!
Young and Woodbridge square off in the center of the ring. The crowd is divided in allegiance, but unified in excitement as Griffin extends a fist. Woodbridge briefly taps it as a show of respect, and then both men back off to prepare themselves for the match. Griffin lunges forward and locks up with Woodbridge. The collar and elbow tie-up sees Griffin gaining the advantage, and he swings Woodbridge over, hitting an armbar takedown on the Heartland Hero. Woodbridge screams in pain as Griffin fiercely torques the arm. Eventually, Woodbridge slowly gets to his feet, but before he can counter the hold fully, Griffin releases it and scampers back. Woodbridge stands his ground as Griffin dashes forward, trying to get some sort of takedown. Griffin fails, however, and Woodbridge gets behind Griffin, hitting a thunderous back suplex!
Ross: That’s rather uncharacteristic technical style by Griffin, but I think he’s hesitant to get in a brawl war with Woodbridge!
Heyman: And we saw how well that strategy worked…
Woodbridge begins putting the boots to Young to a mixed reaction. He then lifts Young up and whips him off the ropes/ As Young comes back, Woodbridge goes for a clothesline, but Griffin ducks, running past him and bouncing off the other set of ropes. As he comes back, Griffin leaps up and hits Woodbridge with a thunderous shoulder block! He goes for a quick cover…
ONE!
NO!
Woodbridge quickly kicks out, but Griffin remains on the offensive, pulling the dazed Woodbridge back to his feet and hitting a powerful scoop slam. Bouncing off the ropes again, Young moves to drop a knee across Al’s forehead, but he rolls out of the way just in time! Griffin yells and grimaces in pain as his knee hits the unforgiving canvas, and Woodbridge is quickly behind Young fast enough to lock in a leg lock submission!
Ross: Woodbridge showing some technical chops of his own here!
Young screams in pain as Woodbridge torques his leg. Woodbridge slowly applies more and more pressure, with Young in the center of the ring. The referee checks to see if Young wants to give up, and he emphatically refuses. Slowly, Young uses all of his power to crawl to the ropes, dragging himself inch by inch. Eventually Young makes it to the bottom rope to a tremendous pop, forcing Woodbridge to break the hold!
Ross: What fire and determination!
Griffin slowly rises, slightly favoring his injured leg, and he and Woodbridge begin a furious exchange of blows. Young eventually wins and hits Woodbridge with a kick to the gut, then lifts him up into a vertical suplex, which he hits with amazing force! He quickly goes for a cover…
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Woodbridge kicks out at two with a reasonable degree of authority, and Griffin stands, trying to work through the pain in his leg. Young turns his back, and Woodbridge capitalizes with a chopblock on Young’s injured leg. This actually draws some boos from the crowd as Young screams again.
Ross: Has Al been drinking your Kool-Aid Paul? This is uncharacteristic viciousness here by the Heartland Hero!
Heyman: Well for one thing J.R., we’ve seen a bit of Woodbridge’s new mean streak already, but more importantly, I think he realizes what’s at stake here!
Before Woodbridge can lock in another leg submission, Young rolls out of the way, aiming a kick with the good leg at Woodbridge’s face. Unprepared for Young’s quickness, the kick strikes true!
“OH!”
Ross: Good lord! That isn’t technical mastery, and it’s not the style of a man in control, but by God is it ever effective! What smashmouth grit by Young!
Woodbridge falls dazedly backwards and Young composes himself, slowly standing, his leg clearly paining him. Young taunts to a sizable pop, and picks up Woodbridge. He bends the Heartland Hero over in front of him as though preparing to give him a powerbomb. However, when Griffin heaves upward to execute the maneuver, Al locks his legs in place, blocking the move and eventually powering out, hitting Young with a strong back body drop! He goes for a cover, hooking Young’s good leg…
ONE!
NO!
Young kicks out quickly, and seems to be getting a second wind as he stands and hits Woodbridge with several dazing haymakers. Grabbing Woodbridge by the head, Griffin goes for a DDT, but Woodbridge blocks it, eventually locking Young’s head and hitting a DDT of his own! Al covers…
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Young kicks out, the crowd giving a loud shout of “TWO!” Woodbridge picks up Young, whipping him off the ropes. Young ducks, and as he runs back, goes for a clothesline of his own. However, Woodbridge extends his arm at the same time, and so both men hit clotheslines on each other and viciously hit the mat!
“OH!”
Ross: What impact!
Heyman: They’re both out, JR! There’ll be no #1 Contender! Cowards has a free ride!
Ross: Don’t count your chickens, Paul!
The ref begins to count, both men slowly stirring…
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
FIVE!
SIX!
Both men roll to their stomachs…
SEVEN!
EIGHT!
Both competitors stand simultaneously to a tremendous pop. They quickly begin an exchange of blows, which Young wins. Quicklbacky pulling Woodbridge to him, Young yells with effort and hits a thunderous-belly-to back suplex! Instead of going for the cover, Young follows up by whipping Woodbridge hard into one of the corners and follows up, hitting a running turnbuckle clothesline. Woodbridge remains standing, and Young climbs above him, beginning a vicious 10 punch. After five punches, Woodbridge grabs a surprised Young and runs forward, hitting him with a vicious front slam!
“OH!”
Woodbridge gives a dazed cover…
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
NO!
Ross: Young kicked out! It’s not over!
Woodbridge looks mildly frustrated but keeps his composire. He lifts Young up and sets him up in a vertical suplex position…
Ross: I think Woodbridge is going for the Gear Jammer here!
However, before Woodbridge can bring Young down, Young slips out of it, landing behind the Heartland Hero and hitting a thunderous Call To Greatness!
“OH!”
Young covers…
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
NO!
Ross: Now Woodbridge kicked out! My God, both of these men refuse to die!
Young pounds the mat in frustration and stands, beginning to put the boots to Woodbridge, causing the crowd to half boo, half cheer. As Woodbridge slowly stands and faces Young, the two begin talking trash. Suddenly the crowd boos thunderously as Cowards runs down to the ring, steel chair in hand, and cracks Woodbridge over the head, quickly following suit with Young!
CRACK!
“OH!”
CRACK!
“OH!”
The bell rings and the crowd boos as they await the official word on the match’s result…
Buffer: The referee has ruled this match a DOUBLE DISQUALIFICATION!
The crowd boos thunderously as Cowards smirks and celebrates.
Ross: Dammit, this isn’t right!
Heyman: YES! Now Cowards has a night off come Night of the Immortals!
The crowd boos harder as Young and Woodbridge both remain motionless in the center of the ring. As “Run Like Hell” blares, Cowards celebrates, a smug grin on his face as he slowly moves towards the backstage area.
Ross: Dammit, this travesty will be rectified! We’ll be back right after this!
The camera pans to the now stirring Young and Woodbridge and then over to the grinning Cowards as the screen slowly fades to black…
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Post by Carl on Jan 24, 2007 13:32:05 GMT
A camera fades in from black & opens up on a shot of the door to the Body Count's personal locker/dressing room.
As the operator of the machine pulls back to allow the surrounding scenery within the corridor into view, those watching from home can see resident backstage correspondent Nick Kelly standing near the doorknob on the right. He has a microphone clutched tightly within the balled-up fist of his left hand, which sits at his side as he carries on an inaudible conversation with the cameraman . . . eventually coming to the conclusion that he is on live, which forces him to begin speaking before he ready . . .
Kelly: Turning to where his back is against the door) "Good evening, ladies & gentlemen . . . & thank you for tuning in to this week's edition of 'CCW Unleashed!’ I'm Nick Kelly, standing by near the locker room of one of CCW's most dominant stables in 'The Body Count'.
Now . . . normally . . . I'd be a little more than hesitant to do what it is that I'm about to do. However, I've been informed that one 'Big Daddy' Josh Violence is in an unusually good mood this evening . . . & as a result, I'm not going to let this opportunity go to waste."
With that, Kelly twirls back around to face the door, & clears his throat . . . using the opportunity to then straighten the collar of his shirt, before raising his free right fist toward the center of the thick, oak slab, & knocking gently . . .
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
At first, nothing happens . . . forcing Kelly to look back toward the cameraman, who offers a shrug in response, before nervously preparing himself to knock a 2nd time . . .
Unrecognizable Voice: (From inside the room) "COME IN!"
Kelly isn't prepared for this, & the amount of vigor behind the voice forces him to stumble back nervously toward the opposite wall, before falling down into a sitting position against it. Laughs from inside the arena can be heard, to add a comedic effect, which continue as the bumbling interviewer eventually pushes back to a vertical base; just in time for the door to swing open, which immediately causes him to fall back for the second time.
BOOM!
The camera turns to face the now open doorway, & within it stands the massive Saamael; his size clearly intimidating the speechless Kelly, who never breaks eye contact with the man as he scrambles back to his feet. He is reluctant to approach the Body Count's resident enforcer, & understandably so . . . placing the microphone in front of his face as he shields himself from potential danger, before Saamael simply stands to the side. This frees up the entire rectangular opening, which Kelly is quick to scurry through as the cameraman follows out of fear for his life. Saamael merely nods at this, & closes the door behind him as the new setting is quickly put into focus.
Kelly: "T-Thank you, Saamael. Can you inform Josh Violence that I'm ready to speak with him?"
Saamael continues to stare blankly toward the now twitching Kelly, & remains this way for an uncomfortable period of time before finally shaking his head "yes" . . . leaving Nick, & the cameraman, to stand there near the entrance to the room as he turns a quick right corner out of view. A few moments pass, & voices are audible . . . but sooner than later, Saamael sticks his head over the corner, & gestures for them to enter, which they do.
As they enter the main area of the room, the cameraman backs away toward the farthest corner to capture everything; a scene that sees Josh Violence sitting in a throne-like easy chair, with the World Heavyweight Championship wrapped around his waist. Heather St. Clair is sitting upon his left knee & looking over a clipboard as her man chiefs on a blunt . . . occasionally pausing to either take a hit, or pass it to her left, as Adam Machiavelli, Joker, & Mistress Helga sit in a half circle along the floor. Saamael takes his seat at Heather's left, & watches on as the 3 stable mates at Violence's feet pass a bong back & forth amongst themselves; all of them unwilling to make Nick Kelly's venture toward Violence any easier than they have to.
Standing behind Violence's chair is a new face to The Body Count . . . one that belongs to a strikingly attractive blonde woman, who is wearing a sheer white dress that stops just before her kneecaps. She is massaging Violence's shoulders, & repeatedly subjecting herself to gestures of affection from "The X-Rated Superstar"; such as allowing him to run his fingers through her hair, & plant small kisses along her neck & face. And, while she seems to be enjoying it, she never actually acknowledges the cameras presence . . . opting instead to keep her gaze toward the floor, & not allowing her face to bear an emotion whatsoever in response to the scenes around her.
Kelly: "Excuse me, Mr. Violence . . . may I have a few moments of your time?"
Violence, who has seemingly forgotten that Kelly has arrived, looks up with a cocked right eyebrow at the mention of his name; his expression changing dramatically upon realizing whom the voice belongs to, & taking another quick toke from his smoking device . . .
Violence: "Christ, Kelly . . . what is this in response to, again?"
Kelly: "Your Title Unification match, tonight, against Bulldog. What are your thoughts on this decision?"
Violence motions for Kelly to come forward, & he does so at his own pace . . . stopping at the man's right foot, & placing the head of the microphone near his mouth to allow him to speak:
Violence: "Well, Nick . . . as you can see . . . I'm not taking such a match very seriously. I mean, I've already beaten this Bulldog character on more than 1 occasion . . . & if I may be honest, this couldn't be more of a blessing."
Kelly: "How so?"
Violence takes another hit from his blunt, & blows his smoke upward toward the mystery woman's face as Adam Machiavelli & Joker begin to cackle. Violence soon joins in, with a chuckle of his own, before even bothering to offer a response:
Violence: "How so? Well, ever since he took control of that Street Fight Championship belt . . . the Bulldog has done nothing but deteriorate the value of it.
He has single-handedly tarnished the reputations built by one Mr. Adam Machiavelli, & myself; the 2 greatest, & most influential Street Fight Champions in the title's short history. And I can think of no better way to put him in his place than to not only strip him of his dignity . . . but also his bread & butter."
Machiavelli: "That's right, Nicholas . . . my associate, here, will reclaim what is rightfully ours. He will be universally recognized as the best, & the only 2-time CCW Street Fight Champion . . .& as a result, it will only increase the value of that other gold belt he is currently on possession of."
Joker: "Ain't that shit the truth! You go, money . . . make that spot monkey bastard recognize that he is in the presence of greatness, out there! Show no mercy!"
The group shares a light chuckle at this, & Violence hands his blunt off to St. Clair before pressing his lips against her throat. She seems a tad frigid, however, & doesn't return the favor . . . forcing Violence to simply shrug his shoulders, turn his head to face the right, & snap his fingers.
SNAP!
At this gesture, the mystery woman walks around the side of the chair, & stops at Violence's right side; her figure now fully revealed to the world, which is magnificent to say the least.
Violence: "Jessica, dear . . . would you mind wrapping my right knee for me? I'd do it myself, but . . . as you can see . . . I'm far too busy dealing with this douche bag."
Jessica: "Yes, sir, Mr. Violence . . ."
Violence: "Atta' girl . . ."
She bends down in front of him to grab a spool of athletic tape, near his feet, & Violence responds by slamming his hand down against her right ass cheek . . .
SMACK!
The young woman doesn’t let this deter her, & remains in the exact same position before finally maintaining her grip on the desired object . . . looking back toward Violence, with a look of obedience, & making sure he doesn’t want to repeat himself before returning to her vertical base. She then turns back to where she is facing Violence, & bends down to roll the right leg of his jeans upward . . . exposing his knee, & allowing “The Midwest Mauler” physical access to her jutting cleavage, as she begins wrapping the tape around the kneecap.
Heather snorts at this gesture, & pushes back to her feet before quickly disappearing off-camera . . . leaving Kelly to look away in awe, before turning back to face Violence & continue the interview . . .
Kelly: “So, if what I’m hearing is correct . . . you have absolutely no reason to assume that Bulldog will walk out as the new World Heavyweight Champion?”
Violence: “Kelly . . . should that actually happen, I will resign on the spot!”
A very loud pop is heard from inside the arena at this statement . . .
Kelly: “Seriously?”
Violence: “With God as my witness, Nick.”
Jessica finishes up her wrapping of Violence’s leg, & pushes back to a vertical base . . . looking on as Violence then gestures for her to take a seat against the knee, to which she complies without incident.
Violence: “By the way . . . have I introduced you to the Body Count’s newest member, Nick?”
Kelly: “Well, actually . . . no. You haven’t. But if I may ask . . .”
Violence: “No need to, jack-off.
Jessica Sheffield . . . say hello to jack-off. Jack-off, Jessica Sheffield.”
Jessica extends her left hand toward Kelly, who takes it in his own & shakes lightly . . .
Jessica: “Hello, jack-off . . .”
Violence: “Atta’ girl . . .”
Jessica releases her grip, & Violence takes her by the forearm . . . placing the hand against his own crotch, to which she smiles, before turning back to face the out of place interviewer:
Kelly: “If I may ask one last question, though . . . how is it that you met? What makes her a part of what you represent?”
Violence: “Well, Nick . . . let’s just say that Atlantic City is my home-away-from-home.
The people here respect what I’ve done . . . & they empathize with both of our individual lifestyles. Isn’t that right, Jessi?”
Jessica: “You know it . . . ‘Big Daddy’.”
At this, Violence & his new lady engage in a series of kisses . . . an act which almost serves as their segue to much racier doings, until Violence remembers exactly where it is that this is taking place.
Violence: “OK, so . . . is that it? Because if so, I’m going to kindly ask you to get the fuck out, Nick. We’ve got to prepare for our plans later on . . .”
Kelly: “What plans?”
Violence: “That’s none of your business, quite frankly . . .”
With this, Violence lifts up the front of his shirt . . . exposing the handle of his trademark Desert Eagle, to which Kelly is quick to scurry out of the scene upon laying his eyes on.
Violence: “Alright, guys . . . everyone out. It’s time I broke this new one in . . .”
The last thing those people watching from home see is that of the everyone but Violence & Jessica Sheffield rising to their feet, & heading toward the door; the cameraman quickly walking backwards to accommodate the situation, as the lady in white rises to her feet before the Champion.
She then slides the right strap of her dress down the length of her arm, before the camera inexplicably:
Fades 2 Black . . .
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Post by Carl on Jan 24, 2007 13:32:39 GMT
The camera opens to a shot of the Canadian Flag, as it pans out it becomes clear that it is the office of Unleashed General Manager, Bret Hart. "The Hitman" comes into view sitting at his desk.
Hart: Ladies and gentleman I have a big announcement regarding Night of The Immortals II. You see it should be no secret to you all that myself and Onslaught GM, Steve Austin have an ongoing rivalry. It dates back to our days in the ring and now to the present day. While we won't lock up next month, Unleashed and Onslaught will. In a six man tag match.
Cheers can be heard around the arena.
Hart: Along with this bombshell I would like to name 2 members of Team Unleashed. They will be..... Donny Ramon and Vincent Reinhardt. The third member has yet to be determined. But next week in a team morale boosting contest Reinhardt and Ramon will challenge The Underworld for the Global Tag Team Titles.
Even more cheers become audible.
Hart: Thank you for your time. I'll now get you back to some more Unleashed action.
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Post by +Donald $. Carlos+ on Feb 5, 2007 19:43:31 GMT
As the previous segment wraps up, the camera cuts quickly back toward ringside.
Inside the squared circle is Michael Buffer, with a microphone in his right hand. He watches on as the already riled-up members of the audience begin to grow restless, before stepping forward to stand near the center of the ring. A buzzing noise is quite audible as he then takes his time to produce a card from his right breast pocket, straightens the pair of glasses resting upon the bridge of his nose, & begins reading from it as he sees fit . . .
Michael Buffer: “Ladies & gentlemen, the following Title unification match is scheduled for one (1) fall . . . & it is our MAIN EVENT of the evening!”
These words are greeted with an eruption of cheers . . . but they don’t last too long, however, as Eminem’s “Role Model” begins blaring over the loudspeakers throughout the arena . . .
Buffer: “Introducing first . . .”
The bulbs above the ring, & along the Unleashed set then slowly, & suddenly de-illume as the video screen above the entrance opening begins flashing a familiar collaboration of past match highlights. A black-light then glows down onto the stage from underneath the video-tron, & a series of green strobes begin going off at sporadic intervals throughout the entire width of the building . . .
Heather St. Clair struts her way out onto the stage through an intense fog, & stops at the head of the entrance ramp with hands on hips . . . scoffing at various remarks made by fans, & looking back at the entrance opening until Violence makes his way into the arena. He has the CCW World Heavyweight Championship around his waist, & as he reaches Heather's left side he wraps his free right arm around her hers . . . taking a deep, deep drag from the joint roach in his left hand, flicking it off to the side, & unsheathing his trademark kendo stick from the neck hole of his T-shirt . . .
BOOM!
A wall of green flames shoot into the air, from behind the duo, as Violence thrusts his arm (& the weapon) into the air . . . using this as a segue to then lean his head back, & exhale the pent-up smoke toward the ceiling as the flames eventually dissipate. The lights then flicker back into full luminosity, whilst still maintaining the green-colored effect, & Heather St. Clair rubs the faceplate of Violence’s title with her right hand in a suggestive manner. The look on her face would suggest that she is rather hesitant to perform this gesture . . . but this doesn’t deter Violence from forcing himself on her, to the chagrin of the audience, as Buffer runs through his spiel:
Buffer: “Representing The Body Count, & accompanied to the ring by Heather St. Clair, he hails from St. Louis, Missouri . . . weighing in at three hundred & fifteen (315) pounds . . . he is the reigning, & defending, CCW World HEAVYWEIGHT Champion . . .
‘Big Daddy’ . . . Josh VI-O-LENCE!”
St. Clair pushes away from Violence, shortly after the announcement has been made, & begins storming down the aisle ahead of him . . . rendering the Champ understandably confused (well, in his frame of mind). He simply cocks an eyebrow at this, shrugs his shoulders, & steps forward to walk after her . . . catching up with her at the foot of the ramp, & twirling her around to face him by the hair. A small argument then breaks out, as confused spectators watch on, which results in the following . . .
SMACK!
“OOH . . .”
Instead of responding with her words, Heather hauls off & smacks Violence across the left side of his face . . . leaving him to stand there, fuming, as she then struts toward the ring with a scowl on her face. From there, she throws her right leg up onto the edge of the apron . . . allowing the fans to get a good look at her “features”, which further irritates Violence, before immediately throwing her other leg up & squirming inside through the lull underneath the bottom rope (ala Melina). Then, instead of remaining on her knees, she immediately climbs back to her feet . . . crossing her arms over her chest, which prematurely sets off the quadrant of flames from the ring posts. Violence loses it at this blatant act of disrespect, & snaps his kendo stick in half after using it to strike the nearby set of stairs . . .
CRACK!
He immediately discards the remainder of his trademark weapon, stomps his way up the stairs, & onto the apron, before bending down to enter the elevated domain through the gap of the top & middle ropes . . . stopping as Heather goes nose-to-throat with him near the center of the canvas, & remaining in this rather intense stare down as his music fades out into thin air. The fans don’t quite know how to react to this situation . . . but, luckily for them, they don’t have to bear with it for that much longer . . .
“I WANNA’ ROCK!”
Violence immediately turns to face the stage as the semi-popular Twisted Sister song begins playing, & unfastens the CCW World Heavyweight Championship belt from around his waist as the official helps St. Clair to the outside; the conflict between her & Violence still unresolved . . .
Buffer: “From Santa Monica, California . . . weighing in at one hundred & ninety five (195) pounds . . . he is the reigning, & defending, CCW Street Fight CHAMPION . . .
BULL-DOG!”
Josh simply tosses the big gold belt to his feet, near the right, & drops down into a Rock-like fighting stance with his hands resting on his upper thighs . . . goading the much smaller wrestler into bringing the fight before he is ready, regardless of the fact that he has yet to show himself within the arena.
This serves as more than enough of a distraction for Bulldog to then make his way through the East Side section of the crowd . . . hop over the railing . . . & slide inside the ring, behind Violence, with a steel chair in tow . . .
“Josh!”
CRACK!
“AW!”
Heather’s attempt to warn her man of Bulldog’s impending sneak attack, but it proves too late for any good to come out of it; the solid steel back of said folding chair connecting hard with the midsection of Violence, as he turns around, & dropping him down to one knee . . .
DING! DING! DING!
Buffer leaves the ring in a hurry, & the official uses this time gap to call for the bell; thus officially starting this contest. Bulldog wastes no time in ensuring an early advantage, & winds back to deliver an immediate 2nd shot . . .
CRACK!
“AW!”
This one connects directly with the top of Violence’s head; the force of which causes him to inadvertently stumble back to a vertical base, & toward the west side set of ropes, in hopes of maintaining his balance for an offensive comeback. This proves to be rather useless, however, as Bulldog merely heaves the chair in his direction without even a hint of a warning . . .
CRACK!
“AW!”
The chair bounces off of Violence’s face, & clatters to the protective mats near Heather St. Clair’s stance next to the northwest corner! Violence has to hook his left arm around the top rope, after this shot, & uses it to hold himself up as his beau nearly shits a brick on the outside; slapping at the canvas with both of her hands, & screaming for the “Big Daddy” to “do something”, as Bulldog charges forward to deliver a crossbody block . . .
SPLAT!
“AW!”
Both bodies tumble over the ropes, & hit the floor with a sickening smack; Bulldog using Violence’s much larger form to absorb most of the impact, as he almost immediately shoots back to his feet upon contact. He wastes no time in removing the Street Fight Championship belt from around his waist, & folds the straps back behind the faceplate for maximum weight . . . watching on as Violence scrambles to his knees before lunging forward to deliver another damaging blow directly to the face!
SMACK!
“AW!”
Bulldog hits Violence with so much force behind the shot that the belt comes loose from his grip, & falls aimlessly to the floor beside Josh’s outstretched body. He doesn’t let this deter him, though, as he immediately drops down on top of Violence’s upper torso for a quick pinfall attempt:
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
“AW!”
The ref makes the count from inside the ring, but Violence powers out of the cover with ease; pressing Bulldog over his body, & tossing him to the side rather emphatically before pushing back to a sitting position along the protective mats. Bulldog lands on his hands & knees, near the stairs, & pushes back to a vertical base as Violence rotates over onto his hands & knees . . . catching him with a quick dropkick to the left side of his head as he attempts to pull himself up, & popping back to his feet, yet again, to a massive pop in response to his performance thus far.
After posing to encourage the cheers, he points toward the northwest ring post . . . gauging the crowds reaction, which is undoubtedly positive, & sprinting toward it with a purpose. He hops up onto the apron rather seamlessly, looks back toward Violence, & starts climbing up onto the top turnbuckle pad; unaware that Heather St. Clair has sensed what is about to come, & hopped up onto the apron to stop him . . .
“BOO!”
She immediately grabs him by the left foot, & struggles to hold him in place until Violence is able to get back to his feet. Bulldog continuously nudges at her with his right foot, & finally breaks her grip with a well-placed heel to the forehead; this action making it impossible for the Street Fighter to keep his balance, & causing him to slip as he attempts to throw himself back toward his slowly recuperating opponent . . .
“NO!”
Violence catches Bulldog in his arms, & runs full-speed into the very ring post that his much smaller foe had just attempted to jump from . . .
WHACK!
“AW!”
Bulldog hits spine first, & crashes to the protective mats along the floor face & stomach first; the impact behind the move causing his flesh to make a smacking sound as it hits! Heather, who is still on one knee along the apron after having been kicked by Bulldog, smirks in response to this, & slowly steps down into a more comfortable position along the floor; watching on with a renewed interest as Violence wastes no time in placing the boots to Bulldog’s skull. After the 4th strike, Violence bends down to grab Bulldog by a handful of hair, & pushes him sternum 1st into the ring apron; bending down behind the Santa Monica native, & continuously thrusting his right shoulder into the small of the fan favorite’s back until he is unable to stand. Violence then follows this up with a bionic elbow to the top of Bulldog’s head, before draping his left arm against the kneeling man’s throat; rearing back with the right arm, amidst a chorus of boos, & repeatedly smashing his forearm against Bulldog’s chest . . .
SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK-SMACK!
“AW!”
Violence finds his mark 10 times, & immediately forces Bulldog back up to a lackadaisical base in order to roll him inside the ring underneath the bottom rope. He then crosses his arms over his chest, & shakes his head in approval as the fans boo him into oblivion . . .
“VIOLENCE SUCKS! VIOLENCE SUCKS! VIOLENCE SUCKS! VIOLENCE SUCKS!”
He waves their chant off as nothing more than ignorance, & rolls inside the ring in hot pursuit of Bulldog’s prone form; pushing back to his knees at Bulldog’s right side, & rotating him over onto his back in order to make an arrogant attempted cover:
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
“NO!”
Bulldog gets his right shoulder up just as the referee’s hand is coming down for 3, & Violence can’t believe it. Heather proceeds to smack at the canvas out of frustration, & begins yelling at Violence as he slowly pushes back to his feet; forcing him to take his mind off of his opponent, & instead turn his attention toward arguing with his already frustrated beau. Bulldog takes notice of this, pushes to his own feet behind Violence, & summons enough strength to capitalize on the situation by tumbling through into a variation of a Sunset Flip . . .
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
“AW!”
Violence shows amazing agility by rolling through onto his hands & knees, near the center of the canvas, but Bulldog proves to be even quicker by rolling back onto his own hands & knees; pushing back to his feet as Violence is able to plant his left foot into the canvas, & leaping forward to deliver a quick front dropkick directly to the Josh’s forehead!
SMACK!
“AW!”
Violence falls onto his back, & Bulldog nips up (ala Shawn Michaels) to a thunderous ovation. He then bends down to force Violence up to his feet, with both hands, & gives him a quick kick to the gut for added measure before performing an attempted Irish-whip toward the northeast corner. Violence uses his size advantage to reverse the move in mid-motion, however, & watches on as Bulldog crashes back first into the crook; taking a couple seconds to regain his senses, before charging forward to deliver his trademark Body Avalanche . . .
SMACK!
“AW!”
Before Violence is able to reach his intended destination, however, Bulldog leaps forward with another front dropkick; this one catching Violence in the right kneecap, & forcing him down to his other knee as Bulldog scurries back to his feet. He gives Violence 2 quick forearms to the base of the neck, followed by a straight right hand to the right orbital bone, & then turns his attention toward the north side set of ropes. He quickly steps out onto the edge of the apron, through the top & middle ropes, & stares at Heather in order to ensure that this next attack will be executed properly; waiting until Violence is back to a somewhat lackadaisical base before leaping up onto the top rope for some sort of springboard-based maneuver . . .
“AW!”
As Bulldog is twisting his body to perform what appears to be a Blockbuster type neckbreaker, however, Violence jumps up to impede his momentum with a Samoan Drop out of seemingly nowhere! Both bodies crash to the canvas with a thunderous impact, & Violence remains in a sitting position in order to recollect his thoughts; leaving himself open for further ridicule from Heather, who instructs him to go for another cover:
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
“NO!”
Since Violence did nothing but lay back against Bulldog’s abdomen, the fighting Middleweight is able to kick out with relative ease. Violence reaches upward to grab the top rope for some assistance, & uses it to pull himself up to a somewhat vertical base as Bulldog rolls over onto his left side; casually resting against the top rope, & drawing a continuous amount of boos from the restless fans before bending down to apprehend his opponent. He drags him up to his feet by a handful of hair, & uses this to then slam Bulldog face first into the top turnbuckle pad of the northeast corner; allowing the top half of his body to rest against the turnbuckles, before grabbing onto his legs in order to push him over the top rope . . .
SPLAT!
“OOH!”
Bulldog tumbles through, hits his back along the apron, & then lands face first along the protective mats near the announce table; leaving him prone long enough for Violence to drop down to the canvas, & roll to the outside via the lull underneath the bottom rope. He forces Bulldog back to his feet by a handful of hair, & then pushes him forward into the northeast ring post; rotating him around to where both men are now facing each other, & proceeding to pepper the semi-conscious man with repeated right hands to the forehead until he has slumped down to a near sitting position along the mats underneath them. Violence then grabs Bulldog by the right hand, forces him back to his feet, & Irish-whips him HARD into the southeast ring stairs . . .
BOOM!
“AW!”
Bulldog hits right arm first, but there isn’t enough force behind him to move the stairs in any fashion; leaving him vulnerable in a half-sitting, half-lying position against the base of the stairs. Violence sees this, slaps at his left knee, & crouches down to center himself before charging forward to capitalize with a running knee to Bulldog’s face . . .
BOOM!
“AW!”
Bulldog sidesteps the charging big man, however, & uses his finesse to instead send Violence face first into the stairs with a well-timed drop toehold! Of course, he is still favoring his arm, & it takes him a few seconds to follow through with another attack; giving Violence enough time to check for any cuts that may have developed as a result of the unexpected maneuver, to which he discovers none. He then uses his hands to push up off of the top section of the stairs, & turns around to locate his opponent in order to defend himself from any other oncoming attack; not even realizing that the chair is swinging his way until it is entirely too late . . .
CRACK!
“AW!”
Bulldog hits Violence in the stomach with enough force behind the blow to send him spinning back toward the stairs! Then, with Violence nearly lying against the top of the stairs, Bulldog places the chair over his head before swinging forward with as much force behind the shot as he can muster at this particular moment in time . . .
CRACK!
“AW!”
Violence screams in agony as the chair collides with his spinal cord, & Bulldog wastes no time in following through by scurrying up the individual stairs until he is standing on Violence’s back. He then turns to where his back is facing the southeast corner, & hops into a sitting position against the top turnbuckle pad whilst still holding the chair; extending his legs forward to where he is then standing against the 2nd ring rope, & taunting toward those sitting in the front row before dropping down . . .
CRACK!
“AW!”
In an amazing display of intestinal fortitude, Bulldog places the chair against his calves as he falls to the floor; landing on the back of Violence’s skull with a variation of the Arabian Facebuster, in the process! The force behind the blow pushes Violence back to his feet against his own will, & causes him to stumble back against the nearby announce table as Bulldog favors his ass on the opposite side of the stairs; leaving him unable to simply push back to his feet, which means he has to crawl around the front of the stairs to get to Violence on the other side. From there, he uses the timekeepers table to pull him up to a somewhat vertical base, & half limps toward Violence to keep him at bay with a right forearm to the jaw. As this is happening, Heather removes a cell phone from the front right breast pocket of her jacket, & places it to her ear after pressing a barrage of buttons; continuing to talk into the receiver as Bulldog gives Violence another shot, & then another, before turning to face the ring apron. He then hops up onto it with relative ease, looks back toward Violence, leaps up onto the 2nd rope, & executes an Asai Moonsault amidst a series of flashbulbs . . .
“AW!”
Violence leaps up onto the table as Bulldog is nearing, & catches him in mid-air; causing both men to tumble through to the other side of the table, & forcing both Heyman & Ross to disperse as they begin punching each other along the floor! Bulldog gains the upper hand with a straight shot between the eyes, & pushes the chairs away in order to give him more room to move around; a monitor catching his eye, as he does so, which eventually ends up in his hands as he begins goading Violence to get back to his feet . . .
CRACK!
“AW!”
Violence is unable to protect himself, & takes the full brunt of the weapon shot to his face; the force of which sends him down to his back, along the floor, & leaves him completely vulnerable for whatever Bulldog has planned next. Fortunately for the World Heavyweight Champion, though, his valet is there to slap Bulldog in the back of the head with her cell phone!
“BOO!”
This doesn’t phase Bulldog, in the slightest, but it does anger him enough to turn around to face her. Heather hadn’t planned on this, & immediately begins backing off toward the northeast ring post as Bulldog follows. Then, before he can even attempt to do anything about the sneak attack, Heather takes off; causing Bulldog to follow her in a race around the ring, which inexplicably stops at the west side of the ring . . .
“AW!”
Just as it seems as though Bulldog is about to catch Heather, a man in a hooded sweatshirt slides out from underneath the ring to catch the Street Fight Champion with a clothesline out of nowhere! Bulldog goes down in a heap, & the man proceeds to stomp at the left section of his ribcage while Heather looks on. Then, as this is going on, Heather waves toward the entrance opening; forcing everyone to turn their attention toward the stage as the monstrous Saamael storms through the curtain, & down the aisle, with Mistress Helga & Jessica Sheffield at his sides.
As this is happening, Adam Machiavelli & Joker appear from within the stands, & climb over the security barrier to assist Josh Violence in climbing back to his feet. They then place either of his arms around their necks, & carry him toward the ring apron; eventually rolling him to the inside, which Joker follows in order to help him back to his feet inside the ring. He then helps Violence back himself into the crook of the northeast corner as Adam Machiavelli takes control of yet another steel chair, & slides inside to join them . . .
Meanwhile, on the other side of the ring, the man in the hooded sweatshirt has forced Bulldog back to his feet, & shows no concern for his well being by then pushing him head first into the northwest section of the stairs!
BOOM!
Bulldog hits hard, & remains on his hands & knees along the floor as Helga & Jessica meet up with Heather near the foot of the ramp. The man in the hooded sweatshirt then orders Saamael to pull Bulldog back to his feet, which he complies with, & hold him by the base of the neck near the ring ropes. Saamael is then given an order from Adam Machiavelli, on the inside of the ring, to deliver a Reverse Chokeslam . . .
“AW!”
Saamael delivers the move, but does so by tossing him face & stomach first into the ring ropes! Bulldog’s body bounces back to the floor stomach first, due to the force behind the toss, & he is instantly rendered unconscious; allowing Saamael to then scoop him up into his arms, place him over his head, & toss him into the ring over the top rope (ala The Big Show)!
“NO!”
Bulldog bounces off of the canvas as his body hits, & he then sprawls out near the center of the ring; allowing Adam Machiavelli & Joker to further beat on him as the crowd looks on in near riotous disgust. The man in the hooded sweatshirt then looks underneath the ring, & eventually produces a sledgehammer which he then slides into the ring. Joker intercepts the weapon, & then tosses it to an oncoming Violence as he & Adam Machiavelli then hoist Bulldog up to his feet; holding him by either arm, & allowing Violence to then come face-to-face with the semi-conscious Bulldog, & berate him with several quick slaps to the face. Then, after he tires of this, he steps back & gestures for his fellow Body Count members to shove Bulldog forward . . .
“AW!”
Bulldog hits the head of the hammer abdomen first, & doubles over into perfect position for the Violator; allowing Violence to hook him in position for the maneuver, & hoist him up into the Pumphandle Drop as Adam Machiavelli places the chair near his feet. Then, when everything is perfectly in place, Violence executes the maneuver with every ounce of strength remaining in his being; slamming Bulldog down into the steel chair face first with a thunderous crack!
CRACK!
“AW!”
Bulldog hits hard, & remains on his stomach as Violence begins posing from his seated position; remaining prone long enough for Adam Machiavelli & Joker to then rotate his now bleeding form over onto his back. Violence then waves his stable mates back, & places his left elbow against Bulldog’s chest as the officially drops down to make the count:
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
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Post by +Donald $. Carlos+ on Feb 5, 2007 19:44:33 GMT
Violence slowly pushes back to a vertical base, with the help of Adam Machiavelli, & is instantly presented with both of his title belts from the reluctant official. He takes a few seconds to recollect himself before angrily snatching them from the innocent mans grip . . . pushing him away, out of disrespect for his hostile surroundings, & placing said titles around either shoulder (ala Chris Jericho) as Joker & Machiavelli raise his arms into the air as a sign of victory.
As this is happening, Heather St. Clair, Jessica Sheffield, & Mistress Helga are allowed into the ring by the unidentifiable man wearing the hooded sweatshirt; St. Clair's resentful demeanor having finally deteriorated, somewhat, as she is the 1st to greet her man with a passionate kiss out of celebration. This doesn't deter Violence from ensuring that Jessica is at his other side, however, which results in a slight confrontation between the two beauties before the Champ is able to ease their tensions with a group hug. The man in the sweatshirt then exits the ring, just as quickly as he had arrived in the arena, & begins making his way toward the vicinity of the announce table as Helga then rubs up against her master. Joker then proceeds to polish the faceplate of his leaders newly won Street Fight Championship with the material of his t-shirt. All the while, Bulldog's bloody, & lifeless body remain outstretched along the canvas . . . having not moved an inch since the Violator, & the ensuing pinfall that came afterwards.
Joining the man in the sweatshirt on the outside is Saamael, who has since started rummaging around underneath the ring . . . eventually presenting a standard table, which he proceeds to set-up near the east side portion of the apron, as Michael Buffer decides to make the decision official . . .
Buffer: "Here is your winner . . ."
SMACK!
"AW!"
The man in the sweatshirt meets the ring announcer with a straight right hand to the jaw, which sends him crumpling to the protective mats along the floor almost instantly. He then bends down, & snatches the discarded microphone from his right side . . . smacking the big Saamael along the back, out of encouragement, as he then proceeds to round the ring, & slide back inside through the lull underneath the bottom rope (of the east side set). Once inside, & back on his feet, he is quick to hand the microphone off to Violence; the audience, as well as the commentators, & even several of the wrestlers backstage hanging on his every word as he steps forward to rest against the top rope (of the east side set) . . .
Violence: (picking up where Buffer had left off) ". . . & the BEST, not to mention the LAST EVER CCW Street Fight Champion!
The man who is also currently in possession of the CCW WORLD Heavyweight Championship . . . & the closest to greatness that most of you will ever see . . . 'Big Daddy'; Josh VI-O-LENCE!"
This comment is met with a chorus of jeers, & understandably so; forcing some fans to resort to heaving various pieces of trash toward the ring, as a result, which Violence neglects to acknowledge as he shares a quick laugh with his group of followers.
Violence: "Yes, I know . . . you're all a tad disappointed. The unfortunate thing about that, though, is the fact that I couldn't possibly care any less; & why should I?"
As Violence finishes his sentence, Saamael begins to make his way toward the stairs to his left . . . ultimately climbing back inside, by stepping rather easily over the top rope, & allowing Violence to pat him on the shoulder for being obedient. He then gestures that the big man step out of his limelight, as he isn't finished talking yet . . .
Violence: "I mean, seriously! Not only is the notion that I would lose to someone as insignificant as that (Violence nods toward Bulldog, who is lying behind him) just insulting to my intelligence . . . but the fact that you people would accept that as your World Heavyweight Champion is downright unacceptable!
So much so, in fact . . . that I’m going to make sure an opportunity like that will NEVER be realized . . .”
With this, Violence allows the microphone to drop down to the canvas, near his feet, before immediately instructing Joker & the man in the sweatshirt to hoist Bulldog back to his feet. They do as instructed, without a hint of defiance, & hold his unresponsive form by either arm . . . allowing Violence to get in one last shot to the jaw, before pushing him forward into Saamael. Saamael catches him by the throat, with one hand, & flashes a quick smile before hoisting the one hundred & ninety five pound man overhead with a Gorilla Press. He then turns to face the stage &, without a hint of his actions, throws Bulldog down toward the floor with all of his might . . .
CRUNCH!
“AW!”
The horrified fans look on helplessly as Bulldog’s body hits face & stomach first; the combined height of the ring, & Saamael standing inside it serving as more than enough force to drive him through the table without interference. His body immediately sprawls out in it’s prone position, & splinters fly in all direction upon direct contact; every person in the ring acting accordingly, as Saamael throws his arms overhead & roars.
More debris is tossed in the groups direction at this gesture, but again they refuse to acknowledge it. Seconds later, a group of Emergency Medical Technicians rush the scene with a stretcher in tow . . . quickly strapping the profusely bleeding Bulldog to the base of it, attaching an oxygen mask to his face, & wheeling him to the back amidst a rather negative, & hostile reaction surrounding them. Saamael then exits the ring, & stands near the foot of the ramp for protective purposes . . . serving as a proverbial Great Wall, should anyone decide to attempt to put a stop to Violence’s extensive post-match celebration.
Jessica Sheffield bends down to grab the microphone for Josh, & hands it to him after a few moments to let things sink in . . . allowing him to once again smack her ass with his right hand, which perturbs Heather, before dutifully handing it off so he can finish.
Violence: “Thanks, bitch . . . now, where was I?”
The fans let loose with further jeers, due to the arrogance he emits . . .
Violence: “Oh, yes . . . unacceptability. And speaking of which, that reminds me of a certain failure who seemed to have his heart set on taking my Championship . . . yet wasn’t able to deliver come crunch time; a rather common trend around here, lately, as I’ve come to notice. Of course, I’m specifically referring to “The House Cat” Thomas Richards . . . but it’s not as though he didn’t try, because he did.
Even I’m quick to admit that he put up more of a fight than I had originally pegged . . . &, sure, he even came the closest to beating me that anyone has in quite a while . . . but, in the end, there’s a reason why I don’t feel bad for refusing to recognize those as achievements; & that’s because they don’t mean jack shit!”
More boos are hurled forward without hesitation . . . but Violence continues to speak uninterrupted:
Violence: “I exposed Tommy boy as the little bitch that he truly is . . . & I will continue to do so for as long as he allows it to be done. Not that it takes much effort, of course . . . but it’s more about the feeling of superiority that I have over him, than anything else.
I OWN you, Richards. I own your dignity . . . I own your self-respect . . . & most important of all, I own your emotional state. The master of mind games has claimed another victim . . . & if you’re unfamiliar with what it is that I’m referring to, let’s just take a look at the video-tron for further proof . . .”
Violence points toward the screen, & the footage of his pre-match promo from “Resurrection” is shown . . . more specifically the part where he denies having anything to do with injuring Richards’ mentor, Karl Istaz. The screen then jumps to footage of the World Heavyweight Championship match involving Violence & Lion. The fans boo in sync with the audience from the tape as the man with the hooded sweatshirt slides into the ring to interfere on Violence’s behalf; a simultaneous “aw” breaking out as the bottle of Jack Daniel’s is broken over Lions’ skull, followed by more jeers at the ensuing three-count.
The camera then cuts back to Violence & co. inside the ring, & the man himself can’t help but let a smile creep across his otherwise serious-looking face. After allowing the fans to express themselves for a few moments more, he decides to speak up . . . looking to connect the dots, so to speak, in regards to what it is he is actually talking about:
Violence: “I’ve got a little confession to make, people . . . I lied.”
Louder, angrier boos follow . . .
Violence: “Yes, that’s right; I lied. Not only did I have something to do with the assault on Mr. Istaz, but . . . for fuck’s sake . . . I was the one who committed the act! I beat the piss out of that geriatric piece of afterbirth, & left him a bloody FUCKING heap on the sidewalk! I paid everyone off, as so I wouldn’t be identified, & I used the beating to take you out of your frame of mind; to relegate you to back to the mid-card where you belong, & assert myself as a master of exploitation!
And not only did I do that . . . but to ensure my victory, I brought in a new member to the ranks of the Body Count. Some of you may remember him for his rather short stint in RMW . . . & understandably so . . . but from hereon out, he will serve as my right-hand man in this traveling circus act! Ladies & gentlemen; the incomparable . . . DC BLOOD!”
At the very mention of his name, Blood throws the hood back from over his face, & crosses his arms over his chest to an unsettling amount of derision . . . hurling various insults toward people sitting in the front row, & ultimately shaking hands with Violence after the initial shock factor has worn away.
Violence: “That’s right, kiddies . . . “The X-Rated Superstar” isn’t fucking around anymore. No, no . . . from here on out, we will CONSUME everyone in our path; & take our rightful place at the top of the wrestling industry! The Body Count lives on . . . but, unfortunately for those in the locker room . . . you’re all not long for this world.”
Violence then throws the microphone down without further notice, & raises his arms in the air to a further negative reaction; either member of his group breaking out into their won signature taunt, behind him, as “Role Model” proceeds to blare over the series of loudspeakers. He quickly motions for Helga & Jessica to open the ropes for him, with which they comply, & bends down to exit the ring through the presented gap . . . stopping understandably short of doing so, however, as without warning, the music of Unleashed General Manager Bret “The Hitman” Hart quickly overtakes it!
The crowd scream as Hart steps out from behind the curtain to survey the audience. He then looks to Violence, disgusted, as the big man laughs in the ring with his arms around St. Clair and Sheffield. Blood stands on the bottom rope, gesturing for Hart to get into the ring. As the music fades out, the chants of ‘BRET, BRET, BRET!’ ring out and Violence steps forward to the ropes to lean next to the newest Body Count recruit. Lifting the microphone to his mouth, Violence laughs.
Violence: This is an unexpected pleasure, Bret. What can I do for you?
Hart looks down his nose at the world champion, still smug after the assault on his opponent. Eventually, the Canadian raises a microphone to his mouth.
Hart: I don’t mean to interrupt, ladies and gentlemen…but if I heard correctly…you attacked our honorary guest at Resurrection? Not only have you done that, but you have put the no.1 contender into hospital. You have given him multiple concussions, his nose has been broken and your accomplice, Adam Machiavelli has stuck a knife in his gut!
The crowd become quiet, and then a series of boos and hisses reverberate throughout the arena. Cans and toilet paper are soon thrown into the ring, and Sammael throws one or two back at the fans.
Hart: If I didn’t know any better I’d have all of you thrown into prison for attempted murder. I’d have each and every one of you bastards held up at a trial. But, that’s not how I want to do things…because business is the main thing here, and I aim to do business.
Violence frowns and then grins at Blood, then, drawing an arm across his nose he holds the microphone to his mouth.
Violence: What did you have in mind?
Hart: Why don’t you ask Mr. Richards that?
Suddenly, Kashmir erupts from the speakers and the crowd roars. The members of Body Count scatter the ring getting ready for some sort of battle, grins fading from their faces. After a few moments, the music fades out and “The Lion” is nowhere to be seen. Violence leans over the ropes pointing at Hart, furious.
Violence: Hart, you mother fucker!
Hart: (laughing) I knew that’d catch you off guard. You see, I haven’t seen someone intimidate you as much as Thomas Richards before. You had to get rid of him, get him out of the picture before he could even have a small chance of taking that title from you. So, you got rid of him, you took him out, and your competition ceases to exist. That’s not how I do business, and we both know that he’ll come back for you, Violence.
The crowd cheers once more, “Dulce et Decorum est” chants pounding throughout the arena and Hart turns his back only to swivel back round.
Hart: One more thing. I always keep my promise, so without further ado, speaking via satellite from Baltimore, “The Lion” Thomas Richards.
Lion’s face appears on the screen, bruises infesting his face and dry blood congregating under his bottom lip and eyes. Widening his eyes, he leans forward slowly and peers down the camera as if he were staring into Violence.
Lion: So it was you, Josh Violence, who fucked up Karl Istaz. Each and every fucking one of you are dead, do you know that? These cuts, these bruises, these sixteen stitches across my torso can’t stop me from hitting you as hard as I can. Every punch you caved into the old man’s skull will be multiplied by three in terms of brute force and wished upon you, every one of them from my very own two fists crunching into your fat fucking head. I’m stuck in a hospital in Baltimore and all I’m doing is counting off the days on the calendar, concentrating and formulating different things I’m going to do to you. It’s really exciting, my heart feels like a race car hitting 300 on the speedway, and it’s running over the same mother fucker every time it comes round the bend.
Violence’s face is expressionless as he stares at the titan tron. Lion surveys the faction in the ring and grins, baring bloody teeth and crowd simmer.
Lion: Hey, you, DC Blood. You learned anything here, lad? If you did, it was that Mr. Violence is going to get a new arsehole torn, him and his masochistic little rentboy, Adam Machiavelli. Maybe I’ll come down looking for you boys some time, we’ll have a little talk and I’ll show you some manners. Mr. Istaz has had a heart attack, kids. Mr. Lion has had an epiphany.
Lion reaches back from behind his wheelchair and produces a cricket bat, swings it round and destroys the signal. Body Count stand motionless in the ring, as Bret Hart prepares to speak once more.
Hart: Looks like you’ve got a war on your hands, Josh.
Hart disappears behind the curtain and Violence stands in the ring looking significantly worried. We fade to black and the CCW logo follows.
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