CCW Unleashed (02/12/07)

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

PREVIOUSLY RECORDED:

The scene opens to a bar in Raleigh, North Carolina. Sitting at the bar is one third of Team Unleashed, Donny Ramon. As usual he is wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt and is puffing away on a cigar. He sucks down a cold one while casting an eye over all the chicas. Just as he starts to chew on some nuts he is joined by his fellow Team Unleashed member Vincent Reinhardt. The big man is as always clad in black with dark sunglasses stopping anyone from getting eye contact. Ramon nods his head as Reinhardt perches himself on a stool.

Ramon: "What's going on man. I'm guessing it's about time we talked. We got a big match coming up on Unleashed. Global Tag Team Titles my friend. That's a big deal."

Reinhardt turns to Ramon and stares at him. An awkward silence plays out until Reinhardt grins. Upon seeing this Ramon chuckles.

Ramon: "You try to scare me there man. You one freaky bastard."

Reinhardt: "A lot of people say that."

As Ramon once again chuckles to himself he turns to the barman.

Ramon: "Yo my man I need another cold one here for my friend."

As the barman opens up a bottle for Reinhardt, Ramon gets back down to business.

Ramon: "I mean Bret Hart stuck us together. If we can win these belts then we can head into Night of The Immortals II on a roll. Sounds good huh. We just need to find out who our third guy is. 'Cause Team Onslaught is looking pretty impressive."

Reinhardt nods in agreement and pulls a lighter out of his pocket.

Reinhardt: "You wouldn't happen to have any more of those fine cigars would you boy?"

Ramon: "You kidding me. You obviously don't know me well enough man."

Ramon pulls a cigar out of his pocket and hands it to Reinhardt. The big man takes a gulp of his beer before lighting the cigar and puffing away. The two sit at the bar enjoying the beers surrounded by clouds of smoke. The duo get more and more intoxicated as the night goes on.

SOME TIME LATER:

Ramon now has his shirt open and is clearly drunk. Reinhardt still looks the same as earlier in the night although now he seems a little more relaxed. Ramon turns on his stool and starts winking at anyone woman who looks in his direction.

Ramon: "I'm gonna find me two waitresses here and I'm gonna pull me a WrestleMania XX main event."

Reinhardt: "What in the hell does that mean."

Ramon: "A three-way my friend."

Reinhardt chuckles as Ramon looks at the waitresses and starts licking his lips and rubbing his nipples.

Reinhardt: "Yeah, well they're all skanks."

Ramon quickly turns to his tag partner with a balled fist and looks offended.

Ramon: "What are talking about? Look at all the beautiful babies here."

Reinhardt: "The beautiful babies don't work the midnights-to-six on a weekday. This is the skank shift."

Ramon turns away from Reinhardt and shakes his head.

Ramon: "You must have no eyes under those sunglasses. Look at all the beautiful honeys here. Some bollo waiting for Donny Ramon."

The scene fades out with Ramon ready for some action and Reinhardt ordering another beer.

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

The Raleigh, North Carolina crowd goes absolutely ballistic as the opening theme for CCW's "Unleashed" begins blaring over the series of louspeakers throughout the RBC Center

“Breathe” by The Prodigy www.youtube.com/watch?v=zonX0Me6EZ4&search=prodigy%20breathe

The opening video shows various CCW Unleashed superstars in action, & we are ultimately introduced to the resident announce team; Jim Ross, & Paul Heyman…

JR: "Good evening, & welcome everyone to Raleigh, North Carolina!

We're LIVE, tonight, from the RBC Center; & on behalf of my broadcast partner Paul Heyman, I'm Jim Ross! And Paul, what a slobber knocker of a card we have tonight!"

Heyman: "You aren't kidding, Ross! Tonight we see 2 more Quarter-Final Tournament matches in the Middleweight Title tournament; as James Brody takes on Gangsta G, & Chad McKenzie takes on Bulldog!"

JR: "And speaking of Championships; The Underworld will defend their Global Tag Team Titles for the 2nd week in a row against two thirds of Team Unleashed, in Donny Ramon, & Vincent Reinhardt. One has to wonder if they can co-exist in such a high-profile encounter with their big 6-man tag only weeks away."

Heyman: "Yes, well, needless to say; I've got my money on the Champs retaining."

JR: "You would, Heyman.

That's not all, though, folks, as we will also see the former Commissioner . . . Paul Hill . . . take on a mystery opponent!"

Heyman: "And, finally, the rubber match we've all been waiting for!

Leonard. Versus. CCW's own Clash Of The Titans; & we're showing it to you, for free, TONIGHT!"

JR: "Now just sit back, relax, & enjoy the show! Unleashed is ON THE AIR!"

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

The camera cuts from the arena to the backstage area, Nick Kelly is standing outside a doctors room.

Nick: "Hello CCW fans, I am standing outside the doctors room where Bulldog is sitting in right now, we can go in and have the first interview since Bulldog was in the main event of Unleashed were he lost the Street Fight title."

Nick opens the door and walks in the camera follows and goes right on to Bulldog who is sitting on the doctors bed as he removes the bandage around his mid-section, it shows heavy bruising all over his mid-section.

Doctor: "It hasn't cleared like I had hoped."

Bulldog: "Meaning?"

Doctor: "It might not be wise for you to fight tonight, give it a couple more weeks and you should be OK, as for your face, lets have a look."

Bulldog turns his head around to show another bandage covering his right eye, the bandage is removed to show a black eye and swelling.

Doctor: "Hmmm, well its looking better but as before take a couple more weeks off."

Bulldog: "Doc, you know as well as I do I am not going to take tonight off, this match means more to me than anything at this very moment, it's a chance to walk in to the next stage of this tournament. Since losing my Street Fight title all I can think about is me going in to The Night of Immortals and winning the Middleweight Title."

Nick Kelly: (Butting in) "What is Bulldog's chances tonight in your opinion doc?"

Doctor: "Well Bulldog is about 60-65% fit and really should rest up."

Bulldog: "Look, this is how I see it, Chad will be an easy match he has always and always will be a tag team man with his partner simple as, I know how much I can take and what I can't and I know I can take this guy, it will be a walk over for anyone, that includes me weather I am 100% or this 60 odd%. Bulldog's rise to the top again starts NOW!"

Bulldog gets up and walks out of the room with his bandage, as walking out of room he starts to put back on.

END.

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

The camera re-opens with Gangsta G. backstage at the RBC Center getting warmed up for his Middleweight Tournament Match. He takes a fighting stance though as he is approached by Union Jakked. They both share smug looks.

Brody: "Alright Gangster. You know if you had a decent up bringing then you might be a superior athlete like myself and Chad."

Chad grins and nods his head in agreement. Gangsta G. doesn't look impressed.

Brody: "I mean if you had even half the talent we have then you wouldn't lose as many matches. A trend that's going to continue tonight when I knock you out of the tournament."

Brody leers at Gangsta G. as he seems to ponder Brody's comments. Union Jakked become impatient with the silence.

McKenzie: "Are you gonna say something or not?"

Gangsta G. scratches at his head and then in an instant slaps Brody across the face. The three men then begin to brawl with Union Jakked getting the upper hand. After several seconds Balistic charges down the corridor coming to the aid of his tag team partner. The four men brawl until they're pulled apart by CCW officials. The cameraman is knocked over and the footage cuts out.

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

Michael Buffer: "The following contest is scheduled for one fall; & it is a mystery opponent match!

Introducing first . . ."

"We Are Godzilla" booms over the loudspeakers as the crowd lets loose with a simultaneous pop; everyone in attendance shooting to their feet in appreciation for the man of the hour.

Paul Hill strides out onto the stage as the hook to the song blares in the background, & stops at the head of the ramp to look out into the sea of admirers egging him on. He then makes a quick cutthroat gesture with his right thumb before turning his attention back to the ring, & walking purposefully toward it.

Buffer: "From Calgary, Alberta, Canada . . . weighing in at two hundred & thirty-five (235) pounds . . .

Paul HILL!"

Upon reaching the ringside area, he rolls inside through the lull underneath the bottom rope, & makes his way toward the northeast corner; stepping up onto it with assistance from the top rope, & looking out into the audience, yet again, whilst keeping his emotions in check.

Moments later, he drops back to the canvas & crouches down in anticipation of who he is about to face. His music fades out into thin air, & the referee gives him a quick pat down to ensure he isn't smuggling any foreign objects. After finding none, the official then steps back to allow Buffer to contiue where he had been forced to leave off.

Buffer: "And, his mystery opponent . . ."

Several seconds pass, & nothing happens; an obvious attempt at building the suspense surrouding the contest, as those in attendance quickly grow restless.

Then, without warning, "The Thing That Should Not Be" causes a noticeable change in the crowd reaction as The Body Count's Saamael is met with a massive chorus of boos. He has his head down, & simply strides down the aisle as Buffer proceeds to run through his spiel.

Buffer: "Representing The Body Count, he hails from South Of Heaven. Standing 7 feet, 1 inch tall . . . & weighing in, tonight, at four hundred & fifty-three (453) pounds . . .

SAAM-AEL!"

The mountain of a man eventually reaches the apron, & steps up onto it in order to enter the ring. Paul Hill wastes no time in bringing the fight to the big man as he catches him in mid-motion with a running forearm to the face; forcing Buffer out of the ring, as the official gestures toward the timekeeper to ring the bell.

The match is now officially underway.

DING! DING! DING!

Saamael is staggered by the blow, & Hill continues to pound away at his face with every ounce of strength he is in possession of until Saamael is able to shove him back. The force of the shove is enough to send Hill tumbling through back onto his feet, & he immediately rushes back toward the now almost completely vertical Saamael with a forearm to the chest!

SMACK

Saamael responds to this by giving Hill another huge shove back, which results in the same tumble through until he is back on his feet near the east side set of ropes. Sammael uncharacteristically charges forward at Hill, who uses a different strategy by going under the legs and standing to kick the back of one of them. Kneeling, the leviathan is soon landed with a dropkick and Hill stands again to stomp hard on his cranium. Sammael stands up and shakes his head, and Hill goes straight for the legs to try and ground him. Hill, however, is swatted down, and is quick to realise that a big leg drop is soon going to connect with his face and moves out the way. The 7 footer lands harshly on his coccyx and Hill runs off the ropes to hit a front dropkick into his jaw, kneeling to then take the arm and attempt a jujigitame but the big man holds the arm back toward his chest and Hill retreats from the position.

JR: "Trying to wear the big man down here…"

Sammael kneels up with his palm lay on the floor and Hill spots a chance to work at it with a forceful heel to the back of the hand. Shouting in rage, Sammael stands and clubs hard over the Canadian’s cranium. Hill manages to stagger back without falling, however, but goes into the corner. Sammael chases forward looking for a splash but Hill moves out of the set of turnbuckle and kicks hard in the back of the legs. Relinquishing his attacks, Hill turns him round to forearm him in the corner, then going to try an Irish whip into the opposite set of turnbuckles. Sammael sanbags, and then pulls the smaller competitor back for a vehement lariat, cracking across the jaw of the relentless attacker.

JR: "He had an advantage as well, Paul…"

Heyman: "No one can stop the 7 foot leviathan, there’s no force that can stop this monster."

Sammael looks round at the crowd while dragging him across the floor by his arm, roaring at the crowd.

JR: "A monster, Paul. How the hell is Hill supposed to win?"

Suddenly, Hill hits home with a burst of energy that sees him wrap his legs around the shoulder of Sammael and hyper extends the arm, applying the susigitame and rendering him helpless. Hill grunts and tears in the hold, and Sammael squints and murmurs as sinew crackles in his body. His hand lifts…

JR: "By Gawd! By Gawd! Hill has this won!"

…And Sammael taps out!

DING! DING! DING!

Buffer: "Here is your winner . . .

Paul HILL!"

Hill releases the hold and grabs at his head as the referee raises his hand for the victory. The crowd go wild as the former champion goes to the top rope to celebrate.

Backstage, the massive Champion Josh Violence watches the TV screen from a sofa, where Heather St. Clair has her head buried in his crotch. He simply smiles, and pulls her head further toward his body as the screen fades to black for a commercial break . . .

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

The camera re-opens to a shot of Johnny "The Ghost" Maison standing next to Nick Kelly and getting ready for an interview.

Nick: "Ladies and Gents, I am here with The CCW Global Tag Team Champions, The Underworld!"

Nick looks beside him to see that only Johnny is there, and Headhunter is no where to be seen

Nick: "Hey, where's Headhunter?"

Johnny: "Oh, he's busy getting owned on some Internet wrestling website."

Nick: "Huh, you know that's really getting common with our superstars here. Anyway, GM Hart has order a match for this week, with you and your partner Headhunter, against Team Unleashed, Donny Ramon and Vincent Reinhart, for your Global Tag Team Championships. What are your thought's heading into this match?"

Johnny: "Well after last week, we feel pretty damn unstoppable. We beat Unleashed's so call "Number One Tag Team" not once, but twice. We proved that not only was our title win not a fluke, but that we're also here to stay. We are the Tag Team to beat. Now, we know that facing two of Unleashed's brightest stars tonight isn't going to be a walk in the park, but it seems like that they're own concerned with booze and women rather then preparing for this match. Trust me Prick, we got nothing to worry about. If that black motherfucker and that illegal alien think that they're going to take this title off of us tonight, they better think again, because the Underworld are here to stay!"

With that, Johnny "The Ghost" Maison storms off screen and the camera fades 2 black

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

The camera fades back in from black, after a while, & re-opens on a shot of the sitting Gangsta G.

He is sitting on the middle cushion of a black leather couch, which appears to be inside his dressing room, with a furious Balistic charging back & forth behind him. The left leg of his jeans is rolled up, & over the kneecap, with a slight hint of swelling over the unprotected kneecap . . .

Balistic: "Why did you refuse medical attention, G?! It's pretty fucking obvious that you're in pain . . . & if you go out there & wrestle in this condition, then you're a DAMN fool!"

Gangsta: "How, pray tell, did you come to that conclusion?"

Balistic stops pacing, & sits along the left armrest of the upholstered piece of furniture to clam his nerves; reaching forward to grab a bottle of water sitting along the top of the table in front of him, & chugging half of its contents before responding . . .

Balistic: "Because, man; that's EXACTLY what they want you to do! That's exactly why they tried to throw you off your game, back there . . . & this is exactly what they were hoping for, when they did so."

Gangsta reaches toward his right, & produces a spool of black athletic tape, as well as his trademark leg brace. He begins wrapping the tape rather gingerly around the swelled area, & uses his teeth to tear the continuous strand from the spool when he has reached what he believes to be enough support. He then opens the velcro that keeps his brace intact, & begins placing it around his leg as he responds . . .

Gangsta: "OK, so, what are you suggesting?

Do you want me to just give up? Throw in the towel before the match has even started, & just no-show like some little bitch?! Is that what you think of me?!"

Balistic: "Naw, man . . ."

Gangsta pushes the leg of his jeans down over the knee brace, & pushes angrily to his feet in order to continue . . .

Gangsta: "Well, guess what; that ain't how I roll!

I've had knee injuries all my life . . . some worse off than others . . . & I can say with the utmost confidence, that this is NOTHING!

I'm not gonna' give up my shot at the Middleweight Championship for a FUCKING bruise . . . OK?! That's all this is . . . & if those Limey fudge packers think that this is enough to sideline me; THE O.G. of Unleashed; then they, as well as the rest of the WORLD . . . which includes you, Nick Smith . . . are more sorry than I had originally thought!"

Gangsta then slides the elbow pad up his right arm, claps his hands together, cracks his neck, & ties the trademark bandana behind his head. He then slides the trenchcoat over his arms, & turns toward the door . . .

Gangsta: "I'll see you later . . ."

BOOM!

And, with that, Gangsta leaves the room; slamming the door behind him rather emphatically. The cameraman remains focused on the door, & then Gangsta's dumbfounded partner, before cutting the feed. This causes the screen to:

Fade 2 Black . . .

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

Michael Buffer: "The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a match from the 1st Round of the Middleweight Championship Tournament."

"London Calling" by The Clash hits the speakers signaling the arrival of one half of Union Jakked. James Brody makes his way down to the ring frowning and flipping off the fans. Once in the ring he climbs the turnbuckle and points to the sky in respect to his father. He then loosens up ahead of the match.

Michael Buffer: "Introducing first..... from London, England and weighing in at 225 pounds..... one half of Union Jakked..... James Brody."

The crowd boo so Brody once again flips them off. Cheers then replace the jeers as "Just Like This" by Limp Bizkit hits the air. The lights dim into complete darkness, as the song plays. Once the music picks up, a random series of multi-colored strobe lights go off around the entire length of arena, as Gangsta G makes his way into the arena (ala HHH).

Once he takes a sip from his water bottle, & does the HHH spritz, the lights lock on the color white; almost serving as a makeshift spotlight, as Gangsta G makes his way down the aisle.

Once reaching ringside, he hops up onto the apron (ala Shelton Benjamin), & rips the trench coat from his body; tossing it to the floor, & doing the HHH pose as a series of pyro goes off inside the ring (ala Razor Ramon). He then climbs inside, as the music fades out, and stares at his opponent. Gangsta G. also sports a knee brace on his leg.

Michael Buffer: "His opponent..... from Memphis, Tennessee and also weighing in at 225 pounds..... Gangsta G."

As soon as the bell sounds Brody charges at Gangsta G. He ducks and uses Brody's momentum to back drop him over the top rope. Brody just about holds onto the ropes and lands on the ring apron. Gangsta G. though doesn't let up hitting a Dropkick To The Knee of Brody forcing him to fall and bounce his face off of the ring apron. As Brody stumbles around ringside clutching his face Gangsta G. climbs to the top rope. With the fans rising to watch Gangsta G. flies through the air with a Shooting Star Press connecting with Brody and sending both men sprawling on the concrete; Gangsta G. looking a little worse than Brody. The place erupts with "HOLY SHIT!" chants.

Ross: "By gawd!. This looks like a scene from an automobile accident. That was amazing. Just amazing."

Heyman: "Once again Unleashed's new Middleweight Division brings you competition with no limits."

As both men roll around in agony the referee begins to make his count.

1...

2...

3...

4...

Brody gets up to his knees and uses the ropes to pull himself up and back into the ring. The referee continues his count with Gangsta G still crawling around dazed.

5...

6...

7...

Gangsta G. places both hands on the ring apron but struggles to lift himself. The injured knee seems to be causing a problem. Brody kneels in the ring already throwing his hands up in celebration.

8...

9...

Just before the final count Gangsta G. heaves himself up into the ring. Brody pulls at his hair in frustration.

Heyman: "As extreme as that may have been Gangsta G. has just shown his stupidity. He's in worse shape than Brody."

Ross: "You may be right Paul, but Gangsta G. wanted to fly and that's what he did. He knows what the people want to see."

In the ring Brody pulls Gangsta G. to his feet with a handful of hair. Brody bounces several punches off of the skull of Gangsta G. before locking his arms around his torso. Brody then executes a Belly To Belly Suplex driving Gangsta G. into the mat. Instead of going for the cover though Brody scales the turnbuckle. With the crowd booing Brody shoots them a look of disdain before landing a Top Rope Legdrop. This time Brody looks for a pin.


1...



2...



No


Gangsta G. shoots his shoulder up off of the canvas. Brody clearly pissed off starts to put the boots to Gangsta G even aiming some at the knee brace. Brody lifts Gangsta G. again and this time locks his arms around the chest and back of Gangsta G. He struggles to break free with some elbows to the back of Brody's head but he holds on and is able to plant Gangsta G. with a Side-Effect. Brody then quickly covers Gangsta G. hooking the leg.


1...



2...



No


Once again Gangsta G. moves his shoulder off of the canvas. Brody tries to switch tactics as he pounds away on the ankle of Gangsta G. After a couple of savage shots Brody snaps on an Ankle Lock. Gangsta G. cries out in pain realizing that he is trapped in the middle of the ring with pressure on his ankle and an already injured knee. Brody puts more torque on the hold as Gangsta G. reaches out trying to grab the ropes.

Ross: "Gangsta G. is used to tagging in Balistic but this in singles action and both he and Chad McKenzie are banned from ringside."

Heyman: "This is proof that Balistic carries Gangsta G. It's pretty pathetic when you need somebody like that bald psycho to help you out."

The crowd begin to cheer on Gangsta G. as he pulled himself toward the ropes. Brody noticed this and pulled back on the ankle. Gangsta G. though is able to roll and send Brody sprawling forward throat first across the middle rope. The fans erupt as Gangsta G. gingerly gets to his feet as Brody pulls away from the ropes holding his throat. Gangsta G. springs into the air and takes Brody to the mat with a Hurricanrana spiking him right on top of his head.

With Brody down Gangsta G gingerly limps through the ropes and heads toward the turnbuckle. The jump before his last move seemingly further aggravating his knee and ankle injuries. The crowd cheer him on as he slowly climbs to the top rope. Brody lies on the mat seemingly out cold. Gangsta G finally steadies himself on the top rope as the fans hush in anticipation. He nurses his ankle and knee one more time and then leaps through the air looking for his trademark Corkscrew Moonsault into a Guillotine Leg Drop.

Brody though was biding his time and playing possum. He rolls out of the way leaving Gangsta G. to land bad ankle first on the ring canvas. The crowd quiet as Gangsta G. writhes on the mat clutching at his ankle. Brody crawls to the corner and points to his brain with an arrogant smirk.

Heyman: "Now would you look at that Jim Ross. It doesn't matter how much fight Gangsta G. has inside of him, 'cause James Brody is smarter."

Ross: "Going high risk cost Sun Ce in this tournament and now the same may have happened to Gangsta G."

After several seconds catching his breath Brody climbs to his feet. Gangsta G. uses the ropes to pull himself up. Somehow fighting on through the pain of having to battle on one leg. Brody cuts any offense off as he drives his knee into the sternum of Gangsta G. He then applies a front facelock. Before Gangsta G. can escape he suffers Dial 999. Following his signature move Brody makes a cover. As the official drops down to make the count Brody gets unseen illegal leverage from the ropes.


1...



2...



3


Michael Buffer: "Here is your winner by pinfall..... James Brody."

The crowd boo as the referee raises Brody's arm. Gangsta G. pounds the mat in frustration with his right hand while holding his ankle with his left.

Ross: "Goddamn it!. How did the referee not see that one. Get a clue official."

Heyman: "It's all done now good ol' J.R., Brody will meet "Hot Fudge" Doug Soto in the Semi-Finals."

Brody makes his way up the ramp celebrating and soaking in the jeers aimed in his direction. In the ring Gangsta G. shoves the referee away and struggles to get to his feet by himself. Brody takes a final bow before heading through the curtain. The fans then clap for Gangsta G. as he limps up the ramp with his teeth gritted in a frown. As he approaches the curtain he rips his knee brace off and throws it into the crowd.

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

PREVIOUSLY RECORDED:

The camera fades in from black, & re-opens on the bar from earlier.

Inside, Donny Ramon is talking to some women who seem to like him. The camera pans over to Vincent Reinhardt, who looks over and shakes his head. The camera then pans back to Ramon, who is walking back to the bar.

Ramon: "Hey Vincent, man there are some fine mamacitas here tonight. Come and meet them."

Vincent: "How about no."

Ramon: "Why not, man? Come on, you see those nice girls over there? I told them about you, and they want to meet you and, well, "get to know you"."

Vincent: "Well, I have something to tell you. I need you to go back over there and send them a message from me. Tell them that I don't want to know them, and tell them that they're skanks."

Ramon: "Hey man, don't say that! They're beautiful, really they are."

Vincent: "Oh really? All I see are ugly whores."

Ramon: "Man, what's wrong with you? Don't you like any one of them?"

Vincent: "Let me see. Um...no."

Ramon: "Okay, how about that one?"

Ramon points over to a woman who waves at Donny. He waves back. Vincent turns around and looks at the woman and turns back around.

Vincent: "Are you kidding me, Donny? Look at her. She's small, she's flat as hell, and her face looks like it got beaten in by a baseball bat."

Ramon: "Harsh man! Very harsh! Well...okay, okay, how about that one?"

Once again, Vincent turns around to see another girl who waves. Vincent smacks his head. Ramon has a weird look on his face.

Ramon: "What is it this time?"

Vincent: "Donny, you must be kidding me."

Ramon: "What did I do? Come on, she looks pretty. You two have a chance."

Vincent: "You must be drunk as hell. Donny, take a closer look at "her"."

Ramon does as instructed, and takes a look at her. She waves, and he waves. He turns back to Vincent.

Ramon: "I don't see anything wrong with her."

Vincent: "For the love of God. Donny, that's a man."

Ramon: "....what?"

Vincent: "That's a fucking man, Don. Did you by any chance kiss that person?"

Ramon: "I think so."

Vincent: "Haha, you're a homo."

Ramon: "No I'm not!"

Vincent: "You kissed him right?"

Ramon: "Yeah."

Vincent: "Then you're a homo."

Ramon: "Shut the fuck up! I'm not a homo, alright?"

Vincent: "Sure you're not."

Ramon: "Good, good."

There is silence for a few seconds, and Vincent chuckles. Donny looks at him.

Vincent: "Homo."

Ramon: "FUCK YOU! I'm leaving, I'll be at the hotel. Just remember that we have a Tag Team Title shot on Unleashed. I'll see you later."

Vincent: "I know we do. See you later, homo."

Ramon: "Fuck off!"

Donny storms out, and Vincent turns to the ladies and smiles.

Vincent: "Look at these hot bitches. Thank you Donny."

Vincent walks over and sits down with the ladies. They giggle and he laughs. He looks at the "man" and talks to the person.

Vincent: "You're not a man, right?"

Person: "Um...no."

Vincent: "Good."

The women giggle and laugh, and Vincent just sits between them enjoying it. The camera fades to black.

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

The camera shows Headhunter and A-Death sitting in a dark room, watching the Reinhardt segment on their TV as they look on in disapproval.

Headhunter: "Vincent Reinhardt, the so-called "largest athlete on Unleashed, wasting his time with a bunch of pathetic nobodys... SO DISAPPOINTING!"

Crowd boos at his response while he turns around to face A-Death

Headhunter: "Luckily, I have the 2 single most important pieces of my life here with me... my Global Tag Team Championship... and you."

Headhunter and A-Death lock lips momentarily while the crowd boos at them. After a while, both Headhunter and A-Death turn to face the camera, clutched in each other's arms.

Headhunter: "Reinhardt, Ramon, you better enjoy the moment while it lasts... because by the end of tonight, you will learn, just as Balistic and Gangsta G did last week, that nothing, and nobody, can stop the Underworld's invariable reign of destruction, not even you. Reinhardt, Ramon... prepare to face your inevitable fate... prepare to be BEHEADED!"

Headhunter poses while the screen goes dark and the camera begins to fade.

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

The camera fades back in from black, following a commercial break, & opens up on a shot of ring announcer Michel Buffer standing in the middle of the ring. He has a microphone clutched tightly within the balled-up fist of his right hand, which he wastes no time in raising to his slightly parted lips in order to make the fans aware of what is getting ready to take place . . .

Michael Buffer: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall . . . & it is for the CCW Global TAG TEAM Championships!”

His words are met with a vibrant pop, which Buffer acknowledges out of respect to the moment until the reaction dies down to near silence. It doesn’t last very long, however, as Ween’s “Puerto Rican Power” begins blaring over the loudspeakers to a very respectable ovation . . .

Buffer: “Introducing the challengers . . .”

Ramon struts out onto the stage through the black sequined entrance curtain, & stops at the head of the ramp to take a quick drag from his trademark cigar; blowing the smoke overhead in ring form, to the delight of those closest to him, & slowly unbuttoning the front of his Hawaiian shirt whilst beginning to make his way toward the ring . . .

Buffer: “First; from San Juan, Puerto Rico . . . weighing in at two hundred & eighty four pounds . . .

Donny, RAMON!”

Ramon continues strutting cockily down the aisle until coming to a complete stop at the foot of the ramp; using the opportunity to first remove the shirt from around his torso, before taking one last drag from his cigar & stabbing it out along the concrete floor. He then tosses it aimlessly into the crowd, & begins jogging in place as his music eventually fades out into thin air. Buffer wastes no time in picking up where he had been forced to leave off only minutes earlier . . .

Buffer: “And, his tag team partner . . .”

Fuel’s “Won’t Back Down” replaces the buzzing noise being generated by the rambunctious audience members, & within seconds there are searchlights scanning the entire width of the arena. After the hook of the song has begun playing, Vincent Reinhardt appears from behind the curtain with a grin on his face; his very presence eliciting a plethora of cheers that are almost too much for Michael Buffer to speak over . . .

Buffer: “From parts unknown; he stands in at seven feet tall. Weighing three hundred & thirty eight pounds . . .

Vincent, REINHARDT!”

Walking slowly, but forcefully down the aisle, Reinhardt comes to a stop at Donny Ramon’s left side; giving his impromptu partner a double fist bump before Ramon jogs forward to slide inside the ring underneath the bottom rope. Reinhardt then wastes no time in climbing up onto the apron, & stepping inside over the top rope as Ramon taunts toward his supporters from the 2nd turnbuckle pad of the southwest corner. Donny then hops back down to the canvas as Reinhardt removes the trenchcoat from around his torso, hands it off to the official along with his sunglasses, cracks his knuckles, & ultimately performs his signature taunt toward all four sides of the ring.

After getting this out of his system, Reinhardt gives Ramon a 2nd fist bump as his music, too, fades out into thin air. The lights then return to full luminosity as the official gives them both a quick pat down &, after finding nothing, designates them to the southeast corner; both men participating in a friendly game of rock, paper, scissors to see who will start out for their team. They are quickly interrupted, however, as "Hell" by Disturbed hits the arena to an instantaneous chorus of boos . . .

Buffer: “And, their opponents . . .”

Wasting no time, both The Headhunter & Johnny Maison step out onto the stage through the entrance curtain before them; their very presence causing the building to begin shaking with the amount of vigor in the voices of the anger-filled fans as they don’t hesitate to make their feeling known. The Global Tag Team Champions are wearing their respective title belts around their waists, & they wait near the head of the ramp as a burst of pyro goes off behind them . . .

Buffer: “Both hailing from different sections of New York City . . . standing at a total combined weight of five hundred & seventy-six pounds . . . they are the reigning, & defending, CCW Global TAG TEAM Champions . . .

Johnny, “The Ghost”, Maison, & The Headhunter; The UNDER-WORLD!”

Maison starts running down the aisle, while The Headhunter follows slowly behind; both men eventually winding up within the restraints of the squared circle, & both men taunting their inexperienced foes with the Global Tag Team Championship belts as the boos continue to rain down upon them. Maison jumps up onto the 2nd turnbuckle pad of the northwest corner, & sucks in the negative reaction as The Headhunter proceeds to repeatedly bounce himself back against the west side set of ropes. Their music then cuts out, & the official gives them both another pre-match pat down before taking possession of the Championships.

The Underworld are then designated to the northwest corner, & Johnny Maison steps out onto the apron as the referee raises both titles overhead to symbolize the importance of the contest. He then hands the belts off to Michael Buffer, who exits the ring as Vincent Reinhardt makes his way toward the center of the canvas. The Headhunter soon follows his lead, & the referee does his best to keep both men separated until he is able to gesture toward the timekeeper to ring the bell.

The match is now officially underway . . .

DING! DING! DING!

Both men square off in the middle of the ring, with Headhunter taking an immediate right handed shot at Reinhardt; who doesn’t even pretend to feel it.

“OH!”

Headhunter steps back, whispers something toward his partner, & lunges forward to deliver a second shot; this one catching Reinhardt directly in the face! Vincent simply shrugs at the foiled attack, & responds in kind by paint brushing The Headhunter across his face with an open-handed slap!

SMACK

“OH!”

Headhunter stumbles back, but doesn’t remain flustered by answering back with a right foot to Reinhardt‘s midsection. Headhunter’s offense has some degree of success, this time, as Reinhardt doubles over long enough for the one-half Tag Team Champion to then follow through with a right-armed European Uppercut to the jaw!

SMACK

“OH!”

This further stuns Reinhardt, and Headhunter drops down to one knee in order to take the bigger man down with a Snapmare takeover; this serving as a set-up for the dark one to then deliver a soccer-style kick to the base of Reinhardt’s spine!

SMACK

“OH!”

Vincent clutches his lower back, & allows himself to fall against the canvas as Headhunter proceeds to put the boots to his frame; each individual, feverish stomp causing the crowd to boo even louder by the second. He ultimately stops, & turns to taunt toward the already riled audience members; their boos progressively changing to cheers as Reinhardt pushes to his feet behind him, & impatiently taps Headhunter on the right shoulder. His eyes widen, in response to this, but he has no other choice but to turn around; walking directly into a right-armed lariat from Reinhardt which almost takes the heel wrestler out of his boots, from the force involved!

“AW!”

Headhunter hits the mat neck first, and folds over onto his stomach while the crowd cringes as one. Reinhardt then lazily tags Ramon to a huge pop, and the Puerto Rican Powerhouse picks up the still dazed Headhunter to execute a swift swinging neckbreaker before following up immediately with a grounded side headlock.

Ramon continues to torque the neck of Headhunter for several seconds before Johnny Maison runs in to break the hold with a well-placed kick to the base of the neck. The crowd boos again as he then punches Ramon like a man possessed; the unwarranted attack serving as more than enough to bring Vincent Reinhardt into the ring, who draws the ire of a rejuvenated Headhunter. Within seconds, all four men are brawling like crazy inside the ring as the official struggles to maintain order!

Reinhardt and Headhunter continue wailing on each other with repeated, high impact blows, until the disconcert for each other’s well beings causes both to spill from the ring through the north side set of ropes. The ref, instead of counting, seems to declare Maison the legal man for the Underworld; his declaration causing the crowd to explode with enthusiasm as they realize he has done this to prevent a count out ending.

Ramon has recovered on the inside, meanwhile, and is beginning an exchange of blows with Johnny Maison near the center of the ring. Maison eventually wins the exchange with a knife-edge chop to the chest, and grapples Ramon in order to take him down to the mat with a vicious scoop Powerslam. Maison then bounces off the east side set of ropes and drops a right fist into Ramon’s forehead; quickly picking him up so as not to leave an opening, and taking him right back down with a quick snap suplex. But, as he pushes back to his feet to continue the offensive flurry, he is met with a huge right boot to the face from an interfering Vincent Reinhardt; who reenters the ring from the west side set of ropes!

SMACK

“OH!”

Maison remains stationary for a few moments, due to the unexpectedness of the blow, but eventually falls back in a manner that would represent the toppling of a mighty redwood tree! Reinhardt then helps Ramon to his feet, before immediately turning his attention back toward a recuperating Headhunter by catching, and planting his half-sprinting form with a mighty Sidewalk Slam!

“OH!”

Reinhardt remains sitting, & Donny Ramon dives forward to make the pin as he is the legal man:

ONE . . .

TWO . . .

THRE . . .

“AW!”

Johnny Maison manages to level Ramon with a baseball slide dropkick to the right ribcage at the very last possible second; breaking the count, & further angering Vincent Reinhardt in the process. Vincent catches Maison as he is pushing back to his feet, & hoists him up onto his shoulders for an attempt at delivering “The Shock Treatment” . . . but, from out of seemingly nowhere, The Headhunter levels Vincent Reinhardt with a running big boot to the face!

SMACK

“AW!”

Maison lands on top of Reinhardt as he falls &, due to him being completely out of the loop, the official drops down to make the count:

ONE . . .

TWO . . .

“YEAH!”

Ramon breaks up the count with a Rolling Senton Splash to Maison’s back, & lands back on is feet near the south side set of ropes. As he turns around to assess the damage, however, The Headhunter meets him with a harsh right-armed clothesline that sends him toppling over the top rope!

SPLAT

“OH!”

By the logic already shown during this match, Vincent Reinhardt is now the legal man for his team. The Headhunter stops for a quick breather, & then climbs to the outside as to head back to his teams designated corner. Johnny Maison crawls toward the corner clutching his lower back, & manages to make the tag to the fresh Headhunter as Reinhardt begins to stir; forcing both Underworld teammates to halt his momentum with a ferocious double stomp. They then force the giant back to a lackadaisical base, give him a duel boot to the abdomen, & push him toward the west side set of ropes with a double Irish-whip; both men watching on as he rebounds, & attempting a double clothesline which he ducks underneath. Reinhardt continues toward the east side as The Underworld catch themselves, & upon turning around they are met with a huge seven-foot missile of a leaping double clothesline!

“OH!”

The ring shakes due to the amount of force in executing, & following through with the unanticipated maneuver, but Reinhardt is quick to climb back to his feet regardless. Johnny Maison rolls back to his feet, & runs blindly toward the now dominant Reinhardt before being taken right back down with a strong lariat; The Headhunter suffering the exact same fate, before Maison is then subjected to a HIGH back body drop! Headhunter struggles back to his feet, so Reinhardt helps him with a handful of hair; using the vulnerability of the situation to then scoop him up onto his right shoulder, charge toward the southeast corner, & drop him face first into the top turnbuckle pad with the Snake Eyes!

“OH!”

Donny Ramon makes his way back up onto the apron, as this is going on, & meets the stifled Headhunter with a strong right hand to the face; the force of which causes him to turn back toward the center of the ring, & walk directly into the hands of Vincent Reinhardt!

“OH!”

Reinhardt clamps his hands around Headhunter’s throat, hoists him into the air, & turns 180 degrees toward the left before planting him with the Baldo Bomb! Headhunter’s body sprawls out between Reinhardt’s massive legs, due to the impact, & Vincent merely hooks both of Headhunter’s limbs over his shoulders for what should be the deciding pinfall:

ONE . . .

TWO . . .

THR . . .

“AW!”

Johnny Maison just barely manages to slam his right forearm against Reinhardt’s neck to break up the pin; the fans moaning in disbelief, as they were sure that the match was coming to an end. Reinhardt pushes Headhunter’s legs forward, & rolls to his hands & knees as Maison follows through with several stiff right hands to the top of the head; halting Vincent in mid-motion, before performing a self Irish-whip off of the east side set of ropes. As he rebounds, however, Reinhardt inexplicably pops back to a completely vertical base; catching Maison by the throat with his right hand, hoisting him into the air with relative ease, & charging toward the ropes in order to drop him to the floor with a thunderous Chokeslam!

“OH!”

Maison bounces along the black protective mats, & winds up directly in front of the announce table as the horrified fans look on! Then, with one half of the defending Champions taken out of the equation, Reinhardt turns his attention back toward the barely stirring Headhunter; taking notice of Donny Ramon’s right arm as it sticks out over the top rope, & making the tag to yet another audible pop. Ramon hops over the top rope, lands on his feet along the canvas, & gestures for Reinhardt to pick Headhunter up off the canvas. Vincent complies, & shoves Headhunter’s head down in-between his legs before bending over to wrap his arms around the man’s midsection.

Then, with every ounce of strength remaining in his being, he hoists the man up into a sitting position against his shoulders; holding him at an angle as Ramon leaps into the air, & slamming him down onto Donny’s knees with a Hellbeast Bomb/Back Cracker combination!

“OH!”

The fans explode at the sight of such an unusual maneuver, & they remain in a frenzy as Donny Ramon then hooks both of Maison’s legs for the attempted pinfall:

ONE . . .

TWO . . .

THREE . . .

DING! DING! DING!

A verbal explosion of epic proportions is all that can be heard as Ramon sits forward to grab at his face; clearly caught up in the moment, as this is his greatest achievement thus far. Vincent Reinhardt responds by throwing both arms overhead, & then helping his partner to his feet; both taking their respective, newly won Championships from the official, & holding them high overhead in celebration as Ween’s “Puerto Rican Power” starts blaring over the loudspeakers for the 2nd time thus far.

Buffer: “Here are your winners . . . & the NEW CCW Global TAG TEAM Champions . . .

Donny Ramon, & Vincent REINHARDT!”

Both men continue to celebrate amidst the positive reaction from the fans; unbeknownst that Onslaught’s Marcus Knight is slowly crawling out from underneath the ring with a steel chair in his grasp. They remain in the dark about this, due to the overwhelming emotion they are feeling in response to their unexpected victory, even as the cheers turn to boos; only coming to the realization that a rival is among them after Donny Ramon is leveled from behind!

CRACK

“AW!”

The music stops, & he goes down in a heap; his belt toppling to the outside, & triggering Vincent Reinhardt’s defense mechanisms as he turns around to face the party crasher. Unfortunately for him, however, Knight is one step quicker in his delivery; jabbing at the big man’s groin with the point of the weapon, & forcing him down to his right knee. Knight then winds up, & lambastes the calf of Reinhardt with a truly gut-wrenching shot!

CRACK

“NO!”

Reinhardt allows himself to hit the mat, & grabs at his injured limb as Knight poses to a chorus of near-deafening boos. He then takes the steel chair, & gives Reinhardt one last shot to his exposed face!

CRACK

“NO!”

The steel bounces off of his face, & he is instantly rendered unconscious; blood beginning to pour out from his nostrils, & his body going into a series of spasms as Knight then spikes the chair to the outside. He then assesses the damage, nods his head in approval, & exits the ring as Donny Ramon begins stirring; walking backwards up the ramp, & posing to another deafeningly negative reaction as a group of Emergency Medical Technicians race past him on their way down to the ring.

The last thing those people watching from home can see is that of Ramon pushing gingerly to his feet as a group of people check on Reinhardt’s condition. The screen then fades to black for another much needed commercial break . . .

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

Chad McKenzie is seen sitting backstage at the RBC Center still feeling the effects of his brawl with Balistic and Gangsta G. As the camera approaches him he still seems a little groggy.

McKenzie: "Bulldog, I wanna like you. Really I do. You're reckless which is something I can be too. However it's just not gonna happen."

McKenzie's breathes quicken as he gets worked up.

McKenzie: "You stand in the way of me becoming Middleweight Champion. That gold is in my future. Therefore I have to erase you before you can alter my destiny. The only way I can advance is by inflicting more damage. More pain and suffering.

Tonight I will be unforgiving. I will be a human cancer. I will slaughter you Bulldog. Only leaving your soul intact."

McKenzie rubs at his head and groans. Clearly in an amount of pain.

McKenzie: "I say this truthfully. Bulldog, I am sorry. I have a legacy to fulfill. You are standing in the way of my path to immortality. This is gonna hurt me alot worse then it's gonna hurt you."

McKenzie chuckles to himself.

McKenzie: "We both know that's a lie. Bulldog, prepare to be royally executed."

McKenzie then gets to his feet and shoves the cameraman aside. He stretches as he heads toward the gorilla position ready for his match.

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

As the Bulldog/Chad McKenzie match is getting ready to start the camera cuts to show Bulldog standing out the back behind the curtain, bulldog looks right down in to the camera.

Bulldog: "Chad, chad, chad, I just saw your little promo and I have to say a few things, now I am not sure where to start this so here it goes;

You said something along the lines of this is your destiny and that the gold is in your future, Chad yes the title could be in your future but I have to tell you this it isn't going to be now! This is my time to shine. . . Again, I know it, these fans know it and deep down you know it too!

Chad you also said *Bulldog looks at a card* "The only way I can advance is by inflicting more damage. More pain and suffering." Chad what ever you bring I can take it! You won't know what pain is until you have been in the ring with me, after the match is over and I have picked up the win the suffering you will feel will be something you have never felt before, the damage on both of are body's will show but still on you more, you see Chad I am not scared of you or what you can bring to the table, I can take what ever anyone brings to me in this business so walking over you will be no problem, this is the start of my fight to make it to the top! Sorry but now it's time for me to rock."

I Wanna Rock hits the arena, Bulldog turns around pushing the curtain open, lights shine through in to the backstage, fans are chanting Bulldogs name as he walks out in to the arena, camera switch's over to main camera in arena . . .

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

Michael Buffer: "The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a match from the 1st Round of the Middleweight Championship Tournament."

Bulldog arrives on the scene to "I Wanna Rock" by Twisted Sister. He walks on to the ramp and stands there, lifts both hands up fireworks go off, walks down to the ring and rolls in to it, Stands on all turnbuckles holding his hands up and looking around the crowd.

Michael Buffer: "Introducing first..... from Santa Monica, California and weighing in at 195 pounds..... Bulldog."

The crowd clap and cheer until "London Calling" interrupts them. Chad McKenzie appears on the ramp and makes his way to the ring with no expression and doesn't slap hands with the fans. He then slides into the ring on his stomach and slowly climbs to his feet. His eyes trained on Bulldog amid boos aimed at him.

Michael Buffer: "His opponent..... from London, England and weighing in at 205 pounds..... one half of Union Jakked..... Chad McKenzie."

As the referee calls for the bell to begin the contest Bulldog massages his injured mid-section. The two men lock up with McKenzie trying to pull on the hair of Bulldog. He is forced to stop as he receives a stiff kick first to the stomach and then to the skull. As McKenzie backs off Bulldog hits the ropes at great speed. McKenzie has no time to avoid Bulldog with a Thesz Press. Followed by Bulldog looking for quick pin.


1...



No


McKenzie pops up off of the mat and rolls away from Bulldog. The fans cheer as Bulldog challenges McKenzie to get back to his feet.

Ross: "We know both of these men are quicker then a hiccup. It's gonna be hard to call this one Paul."

Heyman: "I wouldn't worry about that. After what Josh Violence did to Bulldog last week, I don't see him lasting too long tonight."

Clearly rilled up McKenzie charges at Bulldog who leapfrogs him. McKenzie turns around as Bulldog takes his turn to charge at him. McKenzie tries to catch Bulldog as he jumps in mid-air and look for a slam. Bulldog though reverses it and executes a Tilt-a-Whirl Headscissors Takeover sending McKenzie flying through the ropes to the outside.

As Bulldog gets the fans pumped up McKenzie stays on the outside trying to catch a breather. This starts the official's count.

1...

2...

3...

4...

Bulldog paces back and fourth eagerly waiting for McKenzie to climb back into the ring. Instead the Union Jakked member takes time to argue with a group of fans in the front row.

5...

6...

7...

McKenzie climbs back onto the ring apron but forces the referee to keep Bulldog back. As the official attempts to keep Bulldog away McKenzie leaps onto the top rope and dives over the referee catching an off guard Bulldog with a Spinning Heelkick. The move sees some fans impressed but the rest jeering. McKenzie looks for the pin.


1...



2...



No


Bulldog shoots his shoulder off of the canvas to the relief of the crowd.

Heyman: "That was a slow count. McKenzie could have pinned Bulldog twice if we had a competent referee."

Ross: "I think you're being damn harsh. Bulldog kicked out and that's that. Keep your hair on Paul 'cause there isn't much left."

Almost in an act of frustration McKenzie rips the vest off of Bulldog's back and then uses it to mock wiping his ass (ala HBK in Montreal). He then notices as does everyone else in attendance that Bulldog's ribs are taped up. McKenzie zones in like a shark to blood as he puts the boots to the injured mid-section of Bulldog. When McKenzie finally lets up with his onslaught Bulldog writhes on the mat clutching his ribs.

The fan favourite struggles for breath as he is pulled to his feet. McKenzie lifts Bulldog before dropping him onto his knee with a Backbreaker. McKenzie though holds on and lifts Bulldog again. This time he drops him stomach first across his knee with a Rib-breaker. Bulldog lies on the canvas growling in agony.

McKenzie pays no attention to the boos as he hits the ropes and comes off with Rolling Thunder landing perfectly on Bulldog's mid-section. He follows it up with a cover.


1...



2...



No


The crowd roar with delight as Bulldog once again gets his shoulder up.

Ross: "Bulldog proving that it's not the size of the dog in the fight, but the size of the fight in the dog."

Heyman: "You spout so much crap good ol' J.R., Bulldog is getting his ass handed to him. Plain and simple."

Angered at not scoring the 3 count McKenzie uses his forearms to pound away at the ribs of Bulldog. Finally he lets up and drags Bulldog to a vertical base. With the crowd silenced McKenzie hoists Bulldog up onto the top turnbuckle and follows him up.

With both men perched on the top McKenzie looks for a Top Rope Superplex. Bulldog though catches him off guard with several fists to the jaw. The small offense is enough to get the fans behind Bulldog and start cheering again. With McKenzie dazed Bulldog uses his head with a barrage of head-butts finally sending McKenzie falling all the way to the mat below.

Bulldog while holding his ribs steadies himself on the top rope. The fans rise in their seats preparing themselves to see Bulldog fly. He takes a couple of seconds to catch his breath and once again sooth his ribs. Then almost in slow motion he launches from the turnbuckle and lands a 5 Star Frog Splash that seems to shake the ring.

Heyman: "God I think they're both dead. How can a move like that be legal. Bulldog should be arrested for attempted homicide."

Ross: "That's what Unleashed's Middleweight Division is all about Paul. High risks and no limits."

Both men lay on the canvas holding their mid-sections. The move seems to have done just as much damage to Bulldog as it did to McKenzie. As the crowd finally sit back down they begin to chant for Bulldog. He once again feeds off of it and crawls to McKenzie. He drapes an arm over him and the referee drops down to make the count.


1...



2...



No


Due to the weak cover McKenzie is somehow able to lift his shoulder to the dismay of the fans. As the euphoria dies down both men still lay on the mat in agony.

After several seconds they both battle back to their feet. As both men reach a vertical base they turn and start to exchange rights and lefts. The battle goes back and fourth until McKenzie finally gets the edge. When he seems to have Bulldog stunned he hits the ropes and looks for a Flying Cross Body. Bulldog though has it scouted and ducks. McKenzie's momentum sends him flying through the ropes and falling to the floor outside with a THUD!. This brings cheers from the crowd as Bulldog is able to catch another breather.

Ross: "Well I'll be damned. This sure is one hell of a contest. I'm really liking this new Middleweight Division."

Heyman: "Don't get any ideas J.R., you ended your chances of ever being a Middleweight when you created that God Damn barbecue sauce."

As McKenzie struggles to his feet on the outside Bulldog struggles to climb to the top rope. Both men are mirror images as they clutch their sternums. Bulldog seems the more worse for wear but still battles on. With the crowd once again raising out of their seats Bulldog goes high risk again. He jumps from the top with a Corkscrew Moonsault. McKenzie sees it too late as Bulldog lands right on top of him. Both men are wiped out and end up on their backs closer to the entrance ramp then the ring. The referee begins his count.

1...

2...

3...

4...

Both men begin to stir and show signs of life. Although neither man can do more than slowly sit up.

5...

6...

Bulldog begins to crawl toward the ring while McKenzie sits on the concrete with a grimace as he clutches at his ribs.

7...

8...

9...

Bulldog pulls himself toward up the apron and is about to climb into the ring when McKenzie grabs his foot. Bulldog is unable to break free and falls back down to the floor along with McKenzie.

10

Michael Buffer: "This match is a draw due to a..... Double Count-Out."

The crowd boo as medics rush down to ringside to check on both competitors.

Heyman: "McKenzie knew he couldn't win but he made sure Bulldog wouldn't either. At least Union Jakked still have a chance with James Brody."

Ross: "This means that next week the winner of DC Blood vs. Crazy Kidd will go straight to the final at Night of The Immortals II."

James Brody comes to ringside and shoves the medics away from his tag partner. He pulls McKenzie to his feet and helps him to the back as the pair are jeered by the crowd. Bulldog is checked on by the medics with his ribs further damaged. He gets to his feet on his own though and receives a standing ovation as he leaves the arena.

Heyman: "As much as I don't like him, I have to give it to the kid. He's got a huge heart. But sometimes that just ain't enough."

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

Immediately following the previous match, another camera fades in from black, & opens up on a shot of the CCW World Heavyweight Champion; “Big Daddy” Josh Violence.

He is laying back in a black leather recliner, his arms behind his head, with Jessica Sheffield sensually massaging his shoulders. The CCW World Heavyweight, & the now defunct CCW Street Fight Championship belts are both wrapped around his waist, one over the other, as a smirk is almost literally plastered across his smug mug. Heather St. Clair is perched atop the right armrest, puffing on a blunt, & periodically feeding grapes into Violence’s mouth with her free right hand; blowing her smoke into his mouth upon request, & allowing him to exhale it directly back into her own as a sign of affection.

The camera gradually pans out, & we can see the semi-injured Saamael is standing behind Jessica Sheffield with his arms crossed; his vision fixated on the front of the room, lest anyone try to barge in unannounced. Sitting to Violence’s left along a black leather couch are Mistress Helga, & his co-leader in Adam Machiavelli; both curled up together, & toking from a blunt of their own as the camera pans toward the right. There, sitting along a 2nd leather couch, sit The Joker, & the newest member of the group in DC Blood. Between them is resident backstage correspondent Nick Kelly; a nervous look upon his face, & a microphone clutched tightly within the balled-up fist of his right hand . . .

Violence: “For the love of fucking God, Nick; what the hell are you doing here? Again?

I mean, shit . . . whatever happened to Kimberly Jordan? Why do I always have to be stuck with you? What did I do to deserve that?”

Kelly takes a deep, nervous gulp, before responding in kind . . .

Kelly: “W-Well, Mr. Violence . . . I don’t know if you were ever made aware of this, but, Ms. Jordan has filed a restraining order against you, & all of your cohorts, for the remainder of her time with the company.”

Violence can’t help but chuckle at this, & places his right hand down against St. Clair’s right leg to get her attention. Her lips have already formed a sexy smirk, & she bends down to give her man a kiss out of celebration before he continues . . .

Violence: “Oh, yeah? Well, that’s women for ya‘; always looking for any excuse to get out of doing a job. Am I right, fellas?!”

Violence extends his left arm to the side, & “The Mack” greets him with an emphatic high-five; setting off a chain-reaction of chauvinistic laughter amongst the other males in the room, which includes Nick Kelly himself. DC Blood is quick to smack Kelly upside the back of the head, however, & things return to normal . . .

St. Clair: “Well . . . not all women. Right, babe?”

Violence: “But of course, my dear. You’re always the exception.”

Another kiss is shared by the couple before Kelly can work up the nerve to speak again . . .

Kelly: “Yes, well, speaking of jobs, Mr. Violence . . . unless there is an actual point to this, then I must be on my way to do mine. If you’ll excuse me . . .”

Nick Kelly shoots to his feet, & is immediately taken right back down by a left hand to the shoulder from Joker. Violence is so agitated by this that he pushes forward into a regular sitting position, & shoots to his own feet in a fury; a move which causes Heather St. Clair to shoot to her own feet, & place both arms around Violence’s neck in an effort to hold him back . . .

St. Clair: “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa; easy there, big boy! He’s not worth it.”

St. Clair begins nibbling on Violence’s right ear, which immediately calms him down to the point that his other stable mates are able to refrain from helping. He allows this to go for a few seconds longer, before making his feelings known by gently gesturing for St. Clair to step back . . .

Violence: “A point, huh? You want a FUCKING point?!?”

Violence unsheathes the kendo stick from the neck hole of his shirt, & gently slaps it against his right palm as St. Clair’s head drops into her hands. Adam Machiavelli attempts to intervene, but Mistress Helga holds her back as it would be a totally worthless effort . . .

Violence: “I’ll give you a fucking point, Kelly; & that would be that I, the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION, need not ANY reason to have the spotlight shining down in my direction!

I talk, & people listen; it’s as simple as that! And until someone . . . ANYONE . . . is able to take THIS away from me (points to the CCW Championship) . . . I will continue to do as I wish! And if that means I have to waste your precious time, in the process, Nick Kelly . . . then SO BE IT!”

CRACK

Body Count: “JESUS CHRIST!”

Violence brings the kendo stick down across the top of Nick Kelly’s head with such a great deal of velocity behind it that the instrument splinters into several pieces! Nick’s body immediately sprawls out along the floor, & Saamael comes to a stop at Violence’s right side . . .

Violence: “Big man, if you wouldn’t mind; please take out the trash.”

Saamael grunts in response, bends down to grab Kelly, & lifts him up over his right shoulder with incredible ease before disappearing off-screen toward the right. A door is then heard slamming, & Violence turns his attention toward Joker & DC Blood.

Violence: “And speaking of trash . . .”

Violence then unlatches the Street Fight Championship from around his waist, & tosses it in Joker’s direction . . .

Violence: “Here, Joker; I want you to have this. As a reward for your loyalty, & obedience, in our most trying times.

Probably won’t do you much good, now, of course . . . but, nonetheless.”

Joker takes the title belt, looks into the faceplate, & ultimately slings it over his right shoulder; immediately shooting to his feet, & showing his gratitude toward Violence by giving him a firm shake of the right hand.

Joker: “Thank you, sir. Thank you . . .”

Violence: “Not a problem, in the slightest. But, if you’ll excuse us, we have to go monitor Sam’s progress . . .”

Violence snaps his fingers until Heather St. Clair comes rushing to his side, places his right arm around her waist, & then turns so they can then walk off-screen; leaving the cameraman to fixate on Joker, DC Blood, Adam Machiavelli, Jessica Sheffield, & Mistress Helga, until the screen ultimately:

Fades 2 Black . . .

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

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, straighten the pair of glasses resting upon the bridge of his nose, & begin reading from it as he sees fit . . .

Michael Buffer: “Ladies & gentleman; the following contest is scheduled for one (1) fall . . . & it is our MAIN EVENT, of the evening!”

Another quick pop causes Buffer to pause, out of respect to the fans, but he is able to pick up where forced to trail off completely undeterred . . .

Buffer: “Introducing first . . .”

After a few seconds of silence, in an effort to further build the suspense surrounding the impending match up, “Shallow” hits the arena to an instantaneous chorus of boos.

Blue & gold spotlights shine down from the ceiling, & begin roaming throughout the width of the arena as the leader of the “Monsters Of Pro Wrestling” steps out through the entrance opening wearing his hooded, knee-length black robe. He extends his arms outward, as he walks, & eventually comes to a stop at the head of the entrance ramp where he completes his signature pose. The hood falls down to his neck, as he throws his head back, & a small burst of fireworks goes off behind him as Buffer runs through his spiel . . .

Buffer: “From Arkham, Massachusetts. Weighing in at two hundred & sixty (260) pounds . . . he is the leader of ‘The Monsters Of Pro Wrestling’. A former CCW WORLD Heavyweight Champion . . . he is also the self-professed ‘Future’; ‘The Crown Prince Of Catch’; & ‘The M-V-P Of C-C-W’ . . .

Lancelot, ‘Lance’ LEON-ARD!”

The fireworks display ends, & Leonard averts his attention back toward the ring. He then steps forward, & begins making his way down the steel-grated incline before him at an individually comfortable pace; stopping at various points along the way to argue with some genuinely ignorant fans, & to perform some last minute stretching exercises, until ultimately reaching the ringside area.

From there he removes the robe from around his shoulders, hands it off to an unknown official along the outside, & jogs up the northwest set of metal stairs until he is standing against the edge of the apron. He then bends down to enter the squared circle through the gap of the top & middle ropes, of the west side, & continues walking until his front meets the crook of the northeast corner. From there he steps up onto the 2nd turnbuckle pad, extends his arms outward, & throws his head back as a row of Shawn Michaels-esque fireworks runs across the width of the ring behind him.

Once the pyro has ended, Lance remains perched along the 2nd turnbuckle pad for a few seconds as the blue & gold spotlights fade out. The rest of the lights then return to full luminosity, as his music stops playing, & he hops back down to regain his footing against the canvas. The boos being directed toward his person are now completely audible as the official subjects him to a pre-match pat down, as to ensure that he isn’t withholding any foreign objects; &, upon finding none, the man ushers Lance back into what has now been designated his corner. Leonard looks toward his right at several members of the audience, & shakes his head in disgust toward their blatant ignorance as the official then gestures toward Michael Buffer that he may continue. He then returns to his neutral point along the CCW logo in the middle of the ring, & crouches down whilst keeping a watchful eye on the heel wrestler to his left . . .

Buffer: “And, his opponent . . .”

The bulbs above the ring, & along the Unleashed set, slowly & suddenly de-illume as the video screen above the entrance opening begins flashing a familiar collaboration of past-match highlights.

ERA’s “Enae Volare Mezzo’” blares over the loudspeakers to an emphatically deafening pop as the “One Man Army”, himself, is slowly raised into view from a platform underneath the stage. Balls of fire are launched into the air, above him, from either side of the rostrum every few seconds; a view which coincides rather perfectly with the series of strobes that begin flashing at sporadic intervals along the aisle. Versus remains still for a few moments in order to enter his zone of concentration, & it is only then that he steps forward to begin his stride toward the designated area of combat . . .

Buffer: “From Hell’s Kitchen, in New York City, New York. Weighing in at two hundred & fifty two (252) pounds . . . he is a former 2-time CCW WORLD Heavyweight Champion; & the self-professed ‘Future Of Sports Entertainment’ . . .

The ‘One Man Army’; Nathan, VER-SUS!”

Versus maintains eye contact with Leonard the entire way, & continues to do so as he reaches ringside for his pre-match movements. He begins by jumping up & down on the spot a few times, before transitioning into a full on place jog. As he remains in the stationary jog, he begins cracking his knuckles through the black athletic tape that covers his hands; stopping very suddenly after a minute, or so, & rolling his head in an effort to loosen the muscles of his neck & shoulders before leaping up onto the edge of the apron (ala Brock Lesnar).

He wastes no time in climbing through the gap of the top & middle ropes, of the west-side set, & immediately turns his attention toward the southwest corner. He then hops up onto the 2nd turnbuckle, removes the ‘Don’t Fuck With Destiny’ T-shirt from around his torso, & heaves it into a nearby section of front-row fans before pounding at his chest with the balled-up fist of his right hand. The fans pop as he then throws his arms overhead (ala Steve Austin), spits to the floor below, & pushes back down to the mat in an effort to get things started right away. The lights return to normal, & his music fades out into thin air as he is then intercepted by the official; who subjects him to a pat down of his own as Michael Buffer exits to his seat along the outside. After finding nothing on his person, the official designates Versus to the opposite corner as his opponent, & assesses the situation to the best of his abilities. He then unnecessarily goes over the rules, asks either man if they understand, & steps back toward the southeast corner whilst clapping his hands together after they respond with a simultaneous “yes”.

The timekeeper is then given a signal, & the bell is rung a second later. The match is now officially underway . . .

DING! DING! DING!

Both men walk briskly toward the center of the ring, & begin the process of feeling each other out as they encircle the center of the canvas. Leonard stops once his back is facing the southeast corner, with Nathan to the northwest, & throws his arms up in a defensive stance as Versus lets loose with a right front kick to his left side . . .

SMACK

“OOH!”

Leonard isn’t able to block the strike, however, & Versus steps forward to deliver another with the opposite foot . . . followed by two more . . . & then one last attempted kick to the right side, which Lance slaps away before lunging forward to initiate a collar-&-elbow tie-up. Versus attempts to sweep Leonard off of his feet, in an effort to take the fight to the mat, but Lance uses the slight weight advantage he holds over his opponent to plant his right foot into the material he is standing on for support. Versus then pushes forward in an effort to shove Lance back first into the corner, but Leonard spins through at the last possible second & instead guides Versus into the (southeast) crook.

There are some audible boos as Leonard begins adding some unnecessary pressure to the lockup, which Versus is unable to escape from, & the referee has no choice but to intervene in order to cause a clean break. Leonard puts his hands up as he backs away, but in true ‘Monster’ fashion he immediately springs at Nathan with an attempted cheap shot; his right hand just barely missing the top of the ring post as Nathan ducks through, & rolls back toward the center of the ring.

“YEAH!”

Versus is already back to his feet by the time Lance turns around to face him, & he’s crouched down in extreme anticipation of his opponents subsequent attack. Leonard massages the knuckles of his right, & then attempts to shake the pain away as he jogs down the length of the east side set of ropes. He then rounds the northeast corner, & comes to a complete stop near the middle of the north side set of ropes to instigate another tie-up. Versus complies, & Leonard catches him off-guard by spinning through to execute a standing right-armed Hammerlock. Lance pushes upward via the point of Nathan’s elbow to apply maximum pressure, & Versus attempts to walk it out by turning to face the stage near the west side. He then attempts to distract Leonard by using his feet to perform a heel-trip, but Lance places his left leg over Nathan’s matching foot to keep him stationary. As this is happening, however, Versus uses that as his distraction to do the following . . .

SMACK

“OH!”

Lance takes a left elbow to the orbital bone, & almost completely loses his footing as the strike forces both men to stumble backwards. He attempts to maintain the pressure on the hold, despite this, but Nathan doesn’t give him enough of a chance . . .

SMACK

“OH!”

A second elbow hits Lance in the left corner of his mouth, & the pain he experiences is more than enough to force him to release the hold! Nathan performs a quick standing switch, traps Leonard in place with a Full Nelson, & then trips him down to the mat with a Reverse Russian Leg Sweep; using the vulnerability of Leonard’s now prone position to scoot through into a sitting position at Lance’s right side, & attempt a Fujiwara Armbar . . .

“BOO!”

Just As Nathan looks to have the hold locked in, however, Lance barely slides through his grasp in order to roll to safety near the south side set of ropes. Nathan anxiously pushes back to his feet, & crouches down yet again to watch Leonard as he pushes up to his right knee with assistance from the ropes. The official gestures for Versus to stand back, & to give Leonard some room, which he complies with; his lips curving into a visible smirk, out of amusement toward the situation, as Leonard finally pops back to a vertical base moments later. Lance slaps at his right shoulder to preserve the feeling, touches his lip to ensure no blood has been shed, & then gives his opponent a mock round of applause before stepping forward to begin walking toward the west side set of ropes.

He rounds the southwest corner, & continues walking until he has reached the north side set of ropes; this time imploring his foe to prompt a tie-up by first thumbing his nose at Versus, & then tapping at the canvas with his right foot. Versus pops back to a completely vertical base, & then backs away to allow Leonard near the center of the mat before both lunge forward into the second official clinch of the contest. Leonard manages to turn both bodies to a 45 degree, & begins backing Versus into the crook of the southwest corner . . . but Nathan spins through toward the right, at the very last possible moment, & uses the impetus behind both bodies to turn the tables on Lance. Versus sends a message to Leonard by adding a little unnecessary pressure in the corner, as Lance had done earlier, but immediately backs away for a clean break upon the official’s request.

After waiting for a few seconds, Versus eventually steps forward to pick up where he had been forced to leave off; leaving himself vulnerable to another attempt of a cheap shot by Lance as he twirls forward to deliver a surprise Elbow Strike! Nathan ducks underneath Leonard’s right arm, however, & uses the top turnbuckle pad to stop himself. Lance turns back around to make up for his flashy offense, but walks into a HARD right forearm directly to the forehead . . .

SMACK

“AW!”

The impact behind the blow is so much that it causes Leonard to remain completely still, for some time, before ultimately stumbling back onto his ass near the center of the ring. Versus crouches down & implores Lance to get back up with a “bring it” wave of the right hand, but Leonard merely shifts his weight toward the right in order to roll over onto his hands & knees. He then pushes back to his feet, slaps at the canvas out of obvious frustration, & storms toward the east side set of ropes in a fit of rage; kicking at the bottom cable with his right foot, & smacking himself in the face as a means to psyche himself up. Seconds later, after using the unlimited amount of time to clear his head, he turns back to face Nathan with a smirk of his own; stopping near the center of the ring at a 45 degree angle, after stepping forward from his safe haven, & holding up his right arm to goad Nathan into a test of strength.

Versus pushes back to a completely vertical base, treads forward out of the corner, & crouches down toward his right side as he slowly extends his left arm to meet with Lance’s opposite limb. Their fingers graze each other a few times, & then they press the palms of their hands together in order to curl the fingers into a full-on grip; but all of a sudden . . .

“AW!”

Leonard catches Versus off-guard with a harsh right knee to the sternum, much to the chagrin of the fans, & he doubles over before the hold is ever really applied. Leonard follows this up with a hammer-like forearm to the shoulder blades, which causes Nathan to drop down to one knee, & then shoves him back into the crook of the northwest corner by the base of the neck! Versus hits hard, & slumps down to a sitting position against the 2nd turnbuckle pad as Leonard finally gains the advantage with a forearm shot to the left cheek . . .

SMACK

Versus doesn’t respond to the strike, so Leonard gives him a straight right kick to the abdomen . . . followed by another . . . & then a hard, right-handed knife-edge chop to the pectoral region that echoes loudly throughout . . .

SMACK

“WOO!”

Versus pops back to an impromptu vertical base, due to the amount of vigor behind the chop, & Leonard follows that up with a stiff European Uppercut to the point of Nathan’s jaw . . .

SMACK

“AW!”

Versus starts to double over, so Leonard uses his left hand to grab Versus by his; pulling him out of the corner, & using his right hand to then push Nathan forward with an Irish-whip by the back. Versus jumps through, however, & reverses the move in mid-motion; watching on carefully as Lance hits the northeast crook before charging forward to clobber him with an attempted turnbuckle clothesline . . .

SMACK

“AW!”

As Nathan reaches his destination, however, Lance thrusts his left arm upward to halt his opponent’s momentum with a straight elbow to the bridge of the nose! Versus is understandably caught off-guard by this, as it only happened at the last possible second, & stumbles toward the north side set of ropes to steady himself; allowing Leonard to dive toward the canvas, place his left arm around Versus’ right knee, & take him down with a well-timed schoolboy roll-up . . .

ONE . . .

TWO . . .

Leonard doesn’t go for the pinfall victory, & instead uses the momentum involved in executing the roll-up pin to push back to his feet, & turn to where his back is now facing the east side. He then bends Nathan’s left leg to the side, & places it against the crook of his own right kneecap for an attempted Texas Cloverleaf; but Nathan proves that he is still fully aware of his surroundings by first tucking his legs back in toward his chest, & then shoving Leonard back . . .

“OH”

SPLAT

Leonard stumbles back, falls through the gap of the top & middle ropes, hits his back against the edge of the apron, & tumbles to the floor right side first! Versus uses the counter as a means to summersault back onto his hands & knees, & he is able to watch on as Leonard takes his trip to the outside.

1 . . . . . .

2 . . . . . .

3 . . . . . .

Lance rolls over onto his back, & shoots forward into a sitting position with his front facing the announce table. He once again slaps at his right shoulder, before turning through onto his hands & knees at the left side . . .

4 . . . . . .

5 . . . . . .

By the count of 4, Leonard is reaching forward to grab onto the apron for support. By 5, he is up to both feet, & using the edge of the apron as a stepping stone. Once there, he stands near the northeast corner to regain his composure before bending down to climb back inside . . . giving his opponent another mock round of applause, after maintaining his balance, & walking the length of the north side set of ropes. He then rounds the northwest corner before lunging forward to commence another lockup, but leaves himself completely susceptible to a diving single-leg takedown from a readied “One Man Army”!

Versus trips him by the left leg, making him land on his stomach, & immediately crawls forward to straddle Leonard’s back & ribs. He gives Leonard a trifecta of hammer-like forearms to the shoulder blades before attempting a Rear Naked Chokehold, but Lance is quick-witted enough to brace his arms around his own neck. This draws the ire of Versus, who proceeds to pound at the top of Leonard’s head with straight knuckle shots before attempting to break the brace with more forearms to Leonard’s own knuckles. This proves worthless, so Nathan uses Lance’s back to spin 180 degrees to where he is now kneeling at the Monster’s head; wrapping his arms around Lance’s waist, to hold him in place, & pounding at the top of Leonard’s skull with now-repeated knee strikes . . .

“AW!”

Lance doesn’t let up, though, & hopes that Versus will tire himself out by expending so much energy, which eventually comes to fruition. After at least 10 consecutive knee strikes, Versus once again uses Lance’s back to spin another 180 degrees to the man’s left side; pushing to his feet, & lifting Lance up onto his right shoulder in one fluid motion before taking him right back down with a High Angle Belly-To-Back Suplex!

“AW!”

Lance hits the canvas, turns onto his right side to favor his lower back, & inadvertently allows Versus to execute his trademark baseball slide dropkick to the base of the neck . . .

SMACK

“AW!”

The impact sends Leonard’s face into the canvas, & leaves him lying prone near the middle of the ring! Versus rolls over onto his hands & knees, crawls toward Leonard, & turns him over for an attempted pinfall:

ONE . . .

TWO . . .

“AW!”

Lance fires his right shoulder off the canvas, & rolls back onto his stomach as Versus pushes back to his knees. Nathan argues that the count was slow before eventually pushing back to his feet, giving Leonard a quick stomp to the back of the head, & then forcing him up to a lackadaisical base by a handful of hair. He then shoves Lance forward into the west side set of ropes, & gives him a hard forearm shot to the lower back upon his rebound . . .

SMACK

“OH!”

Leonard arches his back upon impact, & Nathan once again grabs him by a handful of hair before turning both bodies to face the far (south) side ropes; sprinting toward them, without warning, & jumping clear over the top to the floor! Lance’s throat hits the top rope like a guillotine, as he does this, & the whiplash effect that follows is more than enough to take him right back down to the mat in a heap . . .

“OOH!”

Versus uses the nearby section of guardrail to halt his momentum, & snatches the beer from a man in the front row. He quickly guzzles half of it down directly in front of the man, & his family, before spitting it up into the air right over him & smirking in response . . .

1 . . . . . .

2 . . . . . .

Lance landed on his back, with his head near the southeast corner, & begins stirring by using the middle rope to prop himself up into a semi-sitting position; watching on as best he can while Nathan continues utilizing the 10-count to his advantage in order to preserve energy . . .

3 . . . . . .

4 . . . . . .

5 . . . . . .

[+Donald $. Carlos+]

Lance is now up to his right knee, facing the south side ropes, as Versus turns around to re-enter the ring. Upon seeing this, though, Versus decides to hop up onto the apron to continue the fight; reaching over the top rope to grab Leonard by a handful of hair, pulling him up to both of his feet, & placing Lance’s head underneath his left arm. He then reaches over the top with his other arm, hooks the waistband of Leonard’s tights with his fingers, & attempts to toss him to the floor with a vertical suplex!

The referee has since stopped the count, which gives Nathan all the time in the world to see that the move is properly executed. What he wasn’t counting on, however, is the fact that Lance would have enough in him to fight back; rendering Nathan incapable of defending himself from the various jabs that Lance is peppering him with in the left side. As a result of this, Versus has no choice but to release the hold he has; enabling Lance to step back, & then leap forward in one fluid motion to deliver a FIERCE right-footed Enzuigiri!

SMACK

“AW!”

SPLAT

The kick connects with Nathan’s left temple, & he falls to the apron before rolling onto the floor; enabling Lance to regain his composure, yet again, as another ring-out count is started almost immediately . . .

1 . . . . . .

2 . . . . . .

3 . . . . . .

Versus is on his stomach, using his hands to push himself up as Leonard finally climbs back to his feet on the inside. Lance shakes away the proverbial cobwebs, & then ventures to the outside by bending over through the gap of the top & middle ropes (of the south side); dropping down to his feet from the apron, & greeting Versus with a slap to the back of the head for good measure. The official stops his original count, but immediately starts up another one . . .

1 . . . . . .

2 . . . . . .

Versus continues crawling toward the southeast section of the steel stairs, but Leonard halts his momentum with a quick stomp to the base of the neck . . . followed by a second . . . before bending down to force Nathan back to a lackadaisical base by the back of the head. From there, Leonard guides both bodies around the stairs before slamming Nathan’s face into the top of the nearby announce table . . .

3 . . . . . .

4 . . . . . .

5 . . . . . .

WHACK

Nathan does his best to soften the blow, by using his arms as cushions, but it is still more than enough to cause him to slide down to his back along the protective mats covering the floor. Leonard immediately turns to face the east side apron, rolls inside the ring underneath the bottom rope, & rolls right back to his feet along the floor to break the count before stomping Nathan hard in his exposed midsection.

1 . . . . . .

2 . . . . . .

Leonard bends down to grab Nathan by the head with both hands, & forces Versus back up to his feet at his own right side; stepping forward with total disregard for the official’s admonition, & giving Nathan a short Irish-whip into the base of the stairs right bicep first!

BOOM

“NO!”

There isn’t enough force behind the Irish-whip to knock the stairs loose, but the damage is most certainly done as Nathan remains in the same position upon impact.

3 . . . . . .

4 . . . . . .

Lance takes great pride in this, & responds in kind by once again smacking Nathan along the base of his neck. He then pulls Versus up to a semi-vertical base, wraps his right arm around Nathan’s neck, & throws him back into the front of the announce table!

WHACK

“AW!”

Nathan hits the edge of the table kidneys first, & arches his back in immediate response to the pain; allowing Leonard to then nail him with a right-armed European Uppercut to the butt of the jaw, which forces Nathan to down to his knees!

SMACK

“OH!”

5 . . . . . .

6 . . . . . .

Versus is then pushes down to his stomach by Leonard, who immediately steps over his opponent in order to roll back inside the ring. The original count is broken, as a result, but the official wastes no time in starting another after ushering Leonard back toward the west side set of ropes . . .

1 . . . . . .

2 . . . . . .

A chorus of boos break out as Leonard begins his notorious, but seldom seen “Lance Dance”; his hands on head, gyrating tribute to Jushin Liger. While he normally does this for no reason, it is obviously being performed to intentionally irritate the crowd . . .

3 . . . . . .

4 . . . . . .

5 . . . . . .

Lance comes to a complete halt near the middle of the ring, & performs his signature taunt to an even louder, more negative response than before. Meanwhile, on the outside, Nathan has made his way toward the stairs, & is using them to pull himself up to one knee as the official continues his 10-count . . .

6 . . . . . .

7 . . . . . .

Lance’s body language returns to normal, & he places his hands on his hips whilst waiting for Nathan Versus to continue his pursuit back toward the ring. Versus is finally able to stand, using the top tier of the stairs for support, & stumbles back into the apron before pushing himself into a lying arrangement against it . . .

8 . . . . . .

9 . . . . . .

“YEAH!”

The official claps his hands together, & stops the count as Versus summons the strength to roll underneath the bottom rope; the fans exploding with enthusiasm toward the situation as their favorite is still in this fight. Nathan pushes to his hands & knees, with his head facing the southeast corner, & Lance Leonard wastes no time in continuing his offensive flurry; forcing the semi-conscious man to his feet, by the neck, & shoving him right shoulder first into the ring post through the gap between the top & middle turnbuckles!

SMACK

“OH!”

Lance continues to work on the arm, & the muscles associated with the limb, by performing this heel tactic. Versus immediately grabs at his limb, in response to the pain, & involuntarily stumbles back toward Lance Leonard; allowing Lance to duck through to the front, wrap his right arm around Nathan’s neck, place Nathan’s right arm over his own, & execute the “Unfortunate Side Effect”!

“AW!”

The small of Nathan’s back clips Lance’s right knee, & he tumbles through onto his stomach along the canvas due to the force involved! Lance looks on for a few moments before clapping his hands together, & turning Nathan over onto his back in order to attempt what he believes will be the deciding cover:

ONE . . .

TWO . . .

THR . . .

“NO!”

Nathan throws his right shoulder off the mat, & rolls over onto his stomach in one fluid motion; much to the delight of the capacity crowd. Lance is a little taken aback by the amount of fight still being shown by his opponent, but doesn’t let it rattle him from continuing his aggressive front as he pushes back to his feet using Nathan’s body. He then drags the sluggish form of his opponent up with him, & slams him face first into the top turnbuckle pad of the southeast corner before twirling him around so they can be face-to-face. From there, he levels Versus with a series of forearm to the left orbital bone, before grabbing him by the right hand; using the tender right arm to pull him out of the corner, & then execute an Irish-whip to the adjacent (northwest) crook, which Nathan hits hard. He grabs at his sore limb, upon impact, & remains motionless long enough for Lance to charge forward & deliver a jumping right-high knee . . .

SMACK

“AW!”

Nathan stumbles forward, so Lance takes off toward the near (north) side set of ropes for a self Irish-whip; catching Versus with a Harley Race-style right high-knee directly to the left ear! Nathan falls to his back along the canvas, & Lance continues toward the south; rebounding off of those ropes with an obscene amount of momentum, leaping into the air, & crashing down onto Nathan’s forehead with a Ric Flair-esque rolling knee drop!

“AW!”

Leonard tumbles through to his feet, brushes the imaginary dirt off of his right shoulder, & steps through the gap of the top & middle ropes (on the north side) onto the apron. He then takes his time in climbing up to the top turnbuckle pad (of the northwest corner), squats down to maintain his balance, & then pops back up to a vertical base before leaping forward to execute a Bomb Scare knee drop!

“NO!”

Lance hits his mark, in Nathan’s face, & performs a second roll-through to his feet before immediately turning back around to go for the attempted pinfall:

ONE . . .

TWO . . .

THRE . . .

“YEAH!”

Nathan is able to place his left foot along the bottom rope, of the west side set, just as the officials hand begins to graze the canvas for a third time. Lance pushes back to his knees out of disbelief, slaps at the canvas out of obvious frustration, & starts taking it out on Nathan’s face with a barrage of right hands until the official has no choice but to step in. Lance doesn’t want to comply with the request to stop, but does so out of the thought of being disqualified; pushing back to his feet with a scowl present, & walking away from Versus until he is on the opposite (east) side. Upon reaching his destination, Lance slaps at his right arm to indicate that he is going for the “Furious Lariat”; crouching down into a Rock-like fighting stance, & continuously goading Versus to get back to his feet as the crowd’s volume reaches an all-time high. Versus isn’t physically able to respond until several minutes later, when he rolls over onto his stomach & begins pushing up onto his hands & knees . . .

“VER-SUS! VER-SUS! VER-SUS! VER-SUS!”

Leonard doesn’t let the chant rattle him in the slightest, & he continues his anxious ways until Versus is finally able to summon enough strength to climb back to a semi-vertical base before the “Monster”. He then stumbles forward, which gives Leonard all the incentive he needs to lunge forward with the finishing blow . . .

“OH!”

As Lance throws his right arm forward, however, Versus is able to duck underneath the limb, & perform a variation of the standing switch; using the degree of unexpectedness involved to hoist Leonard into the air, & slam him down onto his face & chest with a high-impact Release Dragon Suplex! Leonard hits with enough force that he inadvertently pops up to his knees, & begins clutching his midsection as Versus struggles to follow his surprise attack up with anything useful. He is able to push back to his own feet after taking a few seconds to clear his head, & he does so as Leonard looks to re-assert himself through the obvious pain that he is feeling.

SMACK

“WOO!”

Lance is able to deck the oncoming Versus with a left-handed knife-edge chop to the pectorals, but Versus seemingly absorbs the pain before firing back with an open-palmed slap in retaliation . . .

SMACK

“WOO!”

Leonard stumbles back, but also fights through the pain to then deliver a ferocious Roaring Elbow directly to Nathan’s left cheek! Nathan doesn’t even pretend to feel it, & responds with a right front kick to Lance’s left side. This forces Leonard to drop his guard, as was the case earlier in the contest, & Versus follows this up with a series of elbow strikes to the face until he has backed Leonard into the east side set of ropes. He pushes him back into the ropes, before pulling him forward to execute an Irish-whip; not counting on the fact that Leonard would be able to reverse the move until it is too late. Lance watches on as Versus rebounds, & then catches him in position to deliver a Tilt-A-Whirl Backbreaker; but Versus spins through Leonard’s grasp, lands on his feet, & delivers a FEROCIOUS “Decapitator Lariat”!

SMACK

“OH!”

Leonard hits the canvas, & folds up like the proverbial accordion until he is lying prone on his stomach. Versus starts to consider going for the pin but, at the very last second, decides against this strategy in favor of inducing more pain. He drags Lance up to a lackadaisical base along the center of the canvas, tucks his head down in-between the crook of his own right elbow, & falls back to deliver a neck-shattering DDT! He allows Leonard’s body to roll through before turning both bodies back onto their fronts, shooting back to his feet, & dropping Leonard with a 2nd, equally as devastating DDT! Once again, Versus allows Leonard’s body to sprawl out before popping his hips toward the left, & dragging both bodies back to their feet; utilizing the situation he is now presented with to the fullest extent, & giving Leonard an unnecessary right foot to the abdomen!

He then shoves Lance’s head down in-between his legs, hooks both of his arm back, & hoists him into the air to deliver his finishing move; even going so far as jump into the air, rather than merely leaving his feet, in order to ensure that The Tiger Driver ’91 is delivered with maximum force!

“YEAH!”

Lance hits with bone-jarring impact, & lands back on his stomach with Nathan kneeling at his head; the crowd roaring in anticipation of the impending 3-count that follows this maneuver every time it is executed. Versus remains completely still for a few moments longer, however, before turning an unconscious Lance Leonard over onto his back . . . pressing his right forearm down against the bridge of the man’s nose . . . & ordering the official to make the count. The man in the striped shirt complies by first sliding into position, & then enthusiastically slapping his right hand against the canvas . . .

ONE . . .

TWO . . .

All of a sudden, before the ref’s hand is even close to coming down for 3, Onslaught’s Amy Wheeler begins storming down the aisle to simultaneous catcalls; distracting the fans, the referee, & even Nathan Versus himself, as no one can fathom any reason why she would be in attendance. Upon reaching the ring apron, of the west side, she wastes no time in hopping up onto it as though she is going to try & get involved in the match; but the official stops her as she places her left leg inside, & begins tussling with her frame in an effort to eject her from the match, & ultimately the building. She continuously yells insults at Nathan Versus, after the disrespect he showed her on the last edition of Onslaught, & this is more than enough to get him off of Leonard.

He stands with his hands on his hips, & spits toward the canvas with a smirk slowly forming across his face; completely dumbfounded by the amount of vigor being shown by the small figured woman, & debating whether or not he should get involved. As this is all going on, however, Onslaught’s only 2-time Global Heavyweight Champion, in JD Wheeler, hops over the guardrail behind the announce table to a substantial pop. He then gestures for both Paul Heyman & Jim Ross to be quiet as he steps onto the table, drops to the floor, & hops up onto the east side section of the ring apron on his way to the top turnbuckle pad of the northeast corner. Versus is none-the-wiser, so when he finally does decide to turn around out of curiosity to the degree of volume change, he is unable to defend himself from the following . . .

“AW!”

Versus catches Wheeler in mid-air as he goes to execute his Diving Crossbody, & then tosses JD’s miniscule frame onto his shoulders in order to counter with a Death Valley Driver. However, Wheeler slips through, lands on his feet behind Versus, wraps his arms around the man’s waist, & pushes him face first into the top turnbuckle pad of the northeast corner! Versus then stumbles back, which allows JD to take him down with “The Reality Check”! It is only then that Amy Wheeler stops putting up a fight with the official, & hops down to the floor in retreat; allowing JD precious seconds to escape through the crowd before the referee is any the wiser.

At this particular moment in time, the camera fixates on a stirring Lance Leonard. He uses the middle rope of the east side set to pull himself up to a vertical base, unaware that there has been any interference on his behalf, & then eyes the immobile Versus near the northeast corner. He wastes no time in quickly dragging Nathan back to a lackadaisical base, hoisting him up by the legs, & cradling the “One Man Army’s” neck in the crook of his right elbow; turning to where his back is then facing the corner, & stepping forward to deliver “The Kraken”!

“NO!”

Versus sprawls out as his body hits, & Leonard remains in a sitting position at his right side; contemplating whether or not he wants to finish him off with a 3-count. He ultimately decides against this, & turns Nathan over onto his stomach before climbing back to his feet; stepping over Nathan’s left arm, & performing a 360 degree twist so that his legs are holding Nathan’s limb in a Hammerlock. From there, he goes to the ground, & reaches around Nathan’s tender right arm to hook it under his own left. He then applies a Crossface to complete the dreaded “Lancelock”, & orders that the official check on his opponents condition. It doesn’t take long for the man in stripes to come to the conclusion that Nathan Versus is no longer able to compete, which is only confirmed after having looked at his retinas & concluding that he is unconscious . . .

DING! DING! DING!

The referee signals toward the timekeeper to ring the bell, & the fans let loose with a reaction of near-riotous proportions. Leonard continues applying pressure even after the match has ended, & it takes the official a good few minutes, or so, to get him to agree to release it. Then, as Lance is sitting at the side of his defeated opponent, his facial expression changes to that of mock shock, & he is heard saying “I’m even greater than I thought I was” . . .

Michael Buffer: “Here is your winner, via referee’s decision . . .

Lancelot, “Lance” LEON-ARD!”

The referee helps Lance to his feet, who promptly tears his arm away from the man’s grasp & celebrates in his own fashion; gathering the buildup of sweat from his brow, & flinging it down onto Nathan’s unresponsive form out of disrespect. He then climbs up onto the 2nd turnbuckle pad of the northeast corner, & performs his signature taunt as “Shallow” once again begins playing over the loudspeakers. The camera fixates on this scene for a few moments, & then ultimately switches back to a shot of Nathan Versus’ body lying motionless in the center of the ring.

This is the last thing those watching from home are able to see before the screen fades to black. The CCW logo then swipes across the screen to symbolize that the show is officially over . . .