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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:33:39 GMT
The shot opens to Gangsta G. backstage at The Coliseum in Hampton ahead of Unleashed. He is moving around on crutches due to the injury suffered last week at the hands of James Brody. As Gangsta G. hobbles down the hall he is blindsided by Brody who knocks him to the floor.Brody: Nice to see you again mate. Good to see you're not completely crippled. He then grabs one of the crutches and winds it up over his shoulder.Brody: Just means I get another chance to end your career. Brody brings the crutch down time after time across the leg until it snaps in half. Brody laughs and just starts kicking away at it. Gangsta G. is unable to fight him off and ends up driving Brody on further by insulting him.Gangsta G.: Is that all you got you useless bastard. I pounded your momma harder than that. Brody grabs the second crutch and is about to continue with the beating when he is startled by the arrival of "Hot Fudge" Doug Soto at the end of the corridor. Brody quickly makes his exit as Soto charges to Gangsta's aid.Soto: You okay there buddy. Soto bends down to help up Gangsta G. but is pushed away.Gangsta G.: Fuck you I don't need any help. Gangsta G. then pulls himself to his feet and somehow hobbles off with one crutch and his leg badly injured. Soto just looks on and shakes his head.Soto: This placed seemed more normal when I was high.
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:34:09 GMT
The crowd rise from their seats as the signature shrieking guitar hits the speakers. After a few moments the Unleashed General Manager, Bret "The Hitman" Hart appears at the top of the ramp. He salutes the fans before calling for the music to be cut. As the cheers die down he finally decides to talk.
Hart: Just six days away from Night of The Immortals II and I think it's about time I announced the final member of Team Unleashed. Believe you me I take great pleasure in revealing this for three reasons.
1: This man is an amazing athlete and will do Unleashed proud.
2: He's from my home country of Canada.
Some boos can be heard from Anti-Canadian members of the crowd.
Hart: It's okay you can boo. Canada hates you too.
The joke brings a chorus of laughter from most of the fans.
Hart: And finally he's jumping from Onslaught to be on the premier brand. So for you sitting at home Steve Austin I'm just about to shock you out of your drunken haze. The third member of Team Unleashed is.....
"Just Stop" by Disturbed begins to play and the crowd go wild. As the lights dim to red a man walks out from backstage and stands on the ramp next to Hart. All the fans know who he is.
Hart:..... JOSHUA JAMES!!!.
After a couple of minutes the fans finally quiet down and allow James to speak.
James: It feels damn good to be in a place that appreciates me. Over on Onslaught I was screwed week in week out. Steve Austin didn't give a damn. He was too busy getting drunk and playing favourites. So when I spoke to one of my all time heroes Bret Hart it was crystal clear what had to happen.
I'm jumping to Unleashed because it's the premier show. I'm gonna prove that I belong here. I wanna lock up with the likes of Lance Leonard, Josh Violence and Nathan Versus. But my first step is to bring the pain to Team Onslaught at Night of The Immortals II. So Marcus, Adam and that other guy. Be prepared because in 6 days, Joshua James will be UNLEASHED.
His music plays again as James shakes hands with Hart. James then waves to the fans before heading through the curtain to meet up with new teammates Vincent Reinhardt and Donny Ramon.
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:34:46 GMT
The screen fades in from black, & opens up to a shot of the parking lot area.
After a few seconds have passed, the screen distorts with a 2nd fade until we are treated to a view of the side of the arena.
A few seconds more, & a 3rd fade greets us with a close-up of a man in a black hooded sweatshirt; a burning cigarette hanging loosely from the right corner of his mouth. The hood is up, & covering most of his face . . . but that doesn't stop anyone from coming to the realization that it is, in fact, The Body Count's D.C. Blood.
He only chooses to acknowledge the cameraman's presence at his own convenience; inhaling from the filter of his smoke, & blowing outward in a long, drawn out manner, before clearing his throat to begins speaking:
D.C. Blood: "Ever since joining the unstoppable force that is The Body Count, I've found that people are quick to forget just how talented I am.
My skills are put into question; my worth to the company debated. After all, they do bring up a good point.
Just what have I accomplished thus far that would warrant such praise?"
Blood shakes his head in disdain, takes another drag from the cigarette, & holds the smoke in longer this time; allowing it to soothe the muscles of his throat, & escape through his nostrils, before tossing the hood back to expose his face.
D.C. Blood: "Well, the past is completely irrelevant. As are the critics . . . the fans . . . the haters; those people that are all quick to pass judgment on those that they don't understand. And it is for them that I remain breathing, so I may be the one to stear them clear of the ignorance that clouds their feeble minds.
And the mental cleansing begins tonight with my first opponent. Ironically, the same man that I debuted against in that hell hole called RMW . . . that man they call "Crazy Kidd".
Blood takes one last drag from the cigarette, exhales his smoke, & then flicks the butt off-screen toward the right. He then wipes his left forearm against his nose, spits toward the ground, & picks up where he had left off without missing a beat:
D.C. Blood: "I've beaten you once before, Kidd . . . & now, with the stakes raised, it is certain that victory awaits for my being yet again. The odds are always in my favor, but this confrontation is almost laughable. You truly stand no chance of beating me . . . & you would be well advised to just miss your plane, & consider a new career choice.
I will defeat you soundly . . . I will make it to the finals of this tournament, at Night Of The Immortals II . . . & I will become the inaugural CCW World Middleweight Champion. It is my destiny."
Blood then looks directly into the buzzing glass lens, & throws his arms up in an "X" over his chest . . .
D.C. Blood: "Because my name is D.C. Blood. And one way or the other . . . I'm coming for yours."
Blood remains in his trademark pose for a few seconds longer before the feed to the machine is cut. This ultimately causes the screen to:
Fade 2 Black . . . [/b][/center] |
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:35:16 GMT
Michael Buffer: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a match from the 1st Round of the Middleweight Championship Tournament.
"BOOM, How You Like That" by Hed PE starts, & all the lights near the entrance opening morph into one very, very bright white light . . . illuminating the stage, whilst keeping the rest of the arena in total darkness. Blood walks out through the gorilla position, with his eyes aimed toward the ground, & stops at the head of the stage . . . throwing his arms out at his sides (ala Raven), before quickly crossing them over his chest (ala CM Punk), & dropping down to his knees. A wall of flames then shoot into the air from behind Blood, & eventually form a giant "X" . . . ending with a huge explosion.
Michael Buffer: Introducing first..... from Camden, New Jersey and weighing in at 220 pounds..... representing Body Count..... DC Blood.
Blood pushes back to his feet, & begins making his way down the aisle. The lights swap from white to red after the explosion, & remain that color as he walks.
As he reaches the ringside area, however, & jumps up onto the apron . . . the lights quickly fade out, & a lone spotlight shines down on the center of the canvas. Inside that spotlight is the Japanese symbol for blood, in a red outline . . . which Blood proceeds to watch as he climbs the bottom left hand turnbuckle (ala The Rock), & crosses his arms over his chest (ala CM Punk). As he makes this action, flames shoot up from the other 3 corners of the ring . . . bathing the audience in a series of shadows, until Blood hops down from the turnbuckle & into the ring. The lights then return to full luminosity, & Blood removes the sweatshirt/jacket from around his midsection . . . tossing it outside the ring aimlessly, before turning to face the entrance opening for his opponent.
As Blood waits in the ring he is jeered by the crowd. "Metal Health" by Quiet Riot hits the speakers signaling the arrival of Crazy Kidd. He gets a better response as he slaps hands with the fans on his way down the ramp. He shoots DC Blood a glare before climbing to the top rope and saluting the fans support. As his music dies out he focuses back on DC Blood.
Michael Buffer: His opponent..... from Denver, Colorado and weighing in at 215 pounds..... Crazy Kidd.
With the fans calming down both men walk to the middle of the ring. Kidd puts his hand out looking for a handshake but Blood slaps it away receiving more boos from the fans. Kidd shakes his head and then dives to the mat trying to grab the leg of Blood. However Blood is too fast and avoids contact and then slowly backs away from Kidd.
Ross: Both these guys might be nervous in their debut match here in CCW. But DC Blood has shown that he has the same attitude as the rest of Body Count.
Heyman: The attitude of Body Count is to be a winner by any means necessary. Something Crazy Kidd will learn tonight.
They cautiously meet in the ring again but instead of locking up Kidd catches Blood off-guard with a forearm to the face. Kidd follows it up with a couple to the jaw sending Blood falling back onto the ropes. Kidd doesn't waste time with an Irish whip looking to send Blood across the ring. As Blood bounces off of the ropes Kidd looks to send him overhead with a back body drop. Blood though twists in mid-air and lands on his feet behind Kidd. Blood looks for a German Suplex but Kidd spins out of it and gets behind Blood. Kidd then looks for a German Suplex of his own. Blood though is able to squirm free again and this time grab a hold of Kidd's leg and head. Quickly snapping of a move called Gonorrhea.
Following the move Blood takes a sarcastic bow for the crowd. As they once again boo he drops down to the canvas and makes an arrogant cover just laying back first on top of Kidd.
1...
2...
No
Kidd shoots his shoulder up just before the 3. Blood seems frustrated and pulls Kidd to his feet with a handful of hair. Blood then whips him off into the ropes looking to connect with a Roaring Elbow. Kidd though sees it and is able to duck and avoid contact. Blood turns around and jumps into the air just as Kidd does. The two both have the same idea and connect with Dropkicks. Both ended up laid out on the mat.
Heyman: They both went for the same thing. How the hell is that possible. Blood is better than this schmuck.
Ross: Looks like you have underestimated Crazy Kidd. So far he hasn't looked out of place against DC Blood.
As the two men get back to their feet Kidd looks to be in better shape than Blood. Kidd dives forward connecting with a Spin Kick and sending Blood falling through the ropes and landing on the cold hard concrete. This brings cheers from the crowd. The cheers rise as Kidd scales the turnbuckle and perches himself on the top rope. Blood stumbles to his feet on the outside unaware what Kidd has in store for him.
The crowd watch in a hushed silence as Blood turns around. Kidd then propels himself through the air with a Shooting Star Press. Blood though sees it and throws himself out of the way. Kidd is unable to protect himself as he hits the concrete with a THUD!. The sickening contact causes most to turn away to avoid puking. Kidd lays on the concrete motionless.
With the eerie silence filling the arena the referee goes to check on Kidd. His eyes are open but nobody seems to be home. The referee calls for medics to check on him.
Ross: This looks like a serious injury for Crazy Kidd on his debut. These are the dangers of the Middleweight Division.
Heyman: He was stupid and hurt himself. He deserves everything he gets J.R., I hope he knocked all his teeth out.
Blood makes his way over to Kidd and shoves the official out of the way. Blood then hoists a barely conscious Kidd up to a vertical base and rolls him into the ring. The fans jeer as Blood follows him in.
The referee tries to reason with Blood asking what he is doing. Blood replies with "You make the damn count and give me my win. This match ain't over til I say it's over". The referee shakes his head in dismay as Blood once again makes his way toward the limp Kidd.
Kidd is propped up against Blood who pulls back on his opponents arms locking them across his chest. Blood then drops back driving his knees into the back of Kidd and keeps the arms locked turning the move into a submission.
Heyman: DC Blood told me that this move is called The Garden Stage Garrote. It's a thing of beauty.
Ross: He shouldn't even be applying a submission hold. I wish the referee had the balls to just call this match off as soon as Crazy Kidd was injured.
The official seems stunned as Blood demands he check him. The officials drops down to look for signs of life but Kidd is already out cold. The official calls for the bell and Blood finally lets go of the hold.
Michael Buffer: Here is your winner by knock-out..... DC Blood.
Blood gets the referee to raise his hand in victory as the fans boo. He then grabs Kidd and lifts him onto his shoulder. As the medics rush down to ringside Blood drops the lifeless Kidd over the top rope and back onto the floor right in front of the medics.
Ross: In his CCW debut DC Blood has shown no compassion for his opponent and proved himself to be a Grade A Bastard.
Heyman: Call him what you like. DC Blood is going to Night of The Immortals II to compete for the Middleweight Championship.
As the medics check on Kidd, Blood makes his way up the ramp. He sports his X sign and laps up all the boos aimed in his direction. He smirks as he exits through the curtain. The medics place Kidd on a stretcher and he receives a standing ovation from the crowd as he is wheeled to the back.
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:35:49 GMT
RECORDED LATE LAST NIGHT
The camera fades in at the entrance of a local strip club, where inside, Donny Ramon is sitting on a chair, smoking his fine cigar, watching the ladies dance around the pole and sliding up and down. Ramon is clapping and enjoying what he is seeing. A woman crawls by and he pulls out some money.
Donny: Here you go, sweetheart.
He slips the money into the woman's bra, and she gently kisses him on the cheek. Donny places his hand on his heart.
Donny: Oh man, it's so great to be a champion. Isn't it great, Vincent?
Ramon looks over to his left, but no one is there. He looks around the place.
Donny: Vincent? Vincent? Where the fuck did you go?
He takes a puff of his cigar, and he places it in the ash tray. He gets up from his seat to look around for him. As he walks around, he passes some fine ladies, a stripper with no bra on, but of course it's censored. Ramon forgets he must find Vincent and follows the woman. He finally remembers and he snaps out of it.
Donny: Damn baby, you took my breath away. I'll see you later.
Ramon goes back to find Vincent, and he stumbles on another woman, who is talking to some men over by the bar. Don wants to go over there and talk, but he stops himself and continues searching. He looks over by the tables but he's not there.
Donny: Where the hell did he go? I better find him. He's taking away my fun time.
Don stumbles upon a room, named "Pleasure Island." Around it is fake palm trees and neon lights. He takes a peek inside and he closes the door. He smiles, and takes another look. He closes the door slowly and smiles again.
Donny: Now I want some of that! Donny want bollo, and lap dance!
Donny was about to go inside and join in, but someone stops him.
Woman: What do you think you're doing?
Don turns around, and smiles.
Donny: What am I doing? Well, I'm joining in on the action in there, of course! Why are stopping me?
Woman: Sir, you need to be with somebody to go in there. No woman, no entry.
Donny: What?! Come on. Do you know who I am?
Woman: No, and I don't really care.
Donny: I'm Donny Ramon. I'm one half of the CCW Global Tag Team champions, with my partner Vincent Reinhardt. He's around here somewhere, and I'm trying to find him. He might be in there, so I'm just going to join in on the action. What do you have to say about that?
Woman: You're pretty cute.
Donny looks surprised.
Donny: Oh really? Well, you're pretty cute yourself. What's your name, honey?
Woman: I'm Crystal Bunny.
Donny: Crystal Bunny, heh? Well, Crystal Bunny, since I need somebody to join me in there, how about you and me?
She thinks about it, and answers.
Crystal Bunny: Sure. I haven't done it in a while. Lets go.
Donny: OOH YES!
Donny opens the door for Crystal Bunny, and she walks in. Donny turns around and winks.
Donny: She wants me. Here I come!
He closes the door and the camera just stays there, looking at the door. You can here Donny yelling and having a good time so far. You can hear Crystal Bunny purr, and Donny purrs back. They both laugh. You can hear them talk.
Crystal Bunny: Now just sit back, and relax.
Donny: Anything you say, my mamacita.
Crystal Bunny: Close your eyes, and when I tell you, open them.
Donny: Anything you say.
After a few seconds of silence, Crystal Bunny talks.
Crystal Bunny: Open your eyes.
Donny: Oh man, I can't wait to see them! GIVE THEM TO ME!
We guess Donny opened his eyes, because he screams.
Donny: HOLY FUCK! YOU'RE A DUDE!
Crystal Bunny: Come and get me, tiger. He purrs.
Donny: OH GOOD GAWD!
Donny screams, and you can hear him running. He barges through the door, with no shirt on. He smacks himself a few times in the face and he puts his shirt back on. He has a disgusted look on his face.
Donny: Oh dear lord! Where's Vincent when you need him? At least he could tell the difference between a man from a woman. I better find the bastard.
Donny frowns, and walks back to the table to watch the ladies dance again. The camera follows him, as the screen fades to black.
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:36:25 GMT
Michael Buffer: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a match from the Semi-Final of the Middleweight Championship Tournament.
"Hot Fudge" Doug Soto arrives to the sound of "One Day Remains" by Alter Bridge. He comes sprinting out of the back as the lights strobe in a gold color to the rhythm of the music. He rips off a shirt and tosses his shades into the crowd, focusing on his task at hand. He leaps onto the apron Brock Lesnar-style, and then flips over the ropes and lands on his feet. He dashes, bounding off each set of ropes like Charlie Haas did for a short while. He then gets into his corner and flexes and stretches, getting pumped for his match.
Michael Buffer: Introducing first..... from Grove City, Pennsylvania and weighing in at 185 pounds..... "Hot Fudge" Doug Soto.
The crowd cheer for Soto until they hear "London Calling" by The Clash. James Brody of Union Jakked makes his way down to the ring frowning and flipping off the fans. He stops at the bottom of the ramp and signals that soon a belt will be around his waist. As he poses Gangsta G. quickly hops down the ramp with a crutch in hand. Brody has no clue until Gangsta G. breaks it across his back.
Ross: By gawd!. Payback can be a bitch. Brody tried not once but twice to put Gangsta G. on the shelf. Now he wants revenge.
Heyman: But this match hasn't even started. It's not fair to James Brody. He should get a bye to the final after suffering this.
Gangsta G. isn't done as he pulls Brody to his feet and with all his force whips him back first into the steel ring steps. The fans cheer as Gangsta G. gets some retribution. However the referee climbs onto the apron and demands that Gangsta G. leave straight away.
As the two argue Soto climbs to the outside and grabs Brody tossing him into the ring. Soto then grabs the attention of the official and gets him to ring the bell finally starting the contest. Gangsta G. slowly makes his exit up the ramp keeping a close eye on the ring.
Soto stands over Brody who is clearly in a bad way. Soto just shrugs and pulls him to a vertical base. As Brody clutches at his bad back Soto grabs the ropes and launches himself to the top turnbuckle. Brody looks up as Soto dives off connecting with a Fudge Buster sending Brody down to the mat hard onto his neck and back. Soto follows up with a cover.
1...
2...
3
Michael Buffer: Here is your winner by pinfall..... "Hot Fudge" Doug Soto.
The crowd go wild as Soto has his arm raised in victory. Brody writhes on the canvas clutching at his back. While Gangsta G. stands at the top of the ramp and grins from ear to ear.
Heyman: That was bullshit. Why not give Gangsta G. points for the assist. James Brody never stood a chance.
Ross: Paul you should know that you reap what you sou. Brody injured Gangsta G. and now Gangsta G. may have injured Brody.
Soto makes his way up the ramp and attempts to shake Gangsta G.'s hand but he waves it away and makes his exit. Soto salutes the fans one more time and then exits himself. Brody freaks out in the ring and even shoves the referee to the floor blaming him for not calling off the match.
Ross: After all this chaos we now know that it will be "Hot Fudge" Doug Soto going to Night of The Immortals II.
Heyman: Everything will be set straight this Sunday when DC Blood beats Soto and brings the Middleweight Championship to Body Count.
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:36:58 GMT
Exclusive for CCW.com
Screen fades in from black
Nick Kelly: Hello CCW fans, thanks for logging on to CCW.com, right now we have an exclusive interview with Bulldog after his amazing match with Chad McKenzie last week on Unleashed and a look ahead to their fight next week.
Camera pulls out a little bit to show Bulldog standing by Nick Kelly.
Kelly: Bulldog how are you feeling? Last week the CCW doctor said you were around 65% fit, how are you now?
Bulldog: Honestly Nick I am fine, I feel great and the doctor has said even after the beating I took last week I am getting much better, I am at 80% fit, even after one hell of a battle.
Kelly: So you looking forward to Bulldog vs. McKenzie II?
Bulldog: Oh without a doubt Nick, you see when I was 65% fit Chad couldn't put me down when he is 100% fit, he tried but I kept getting up and bringing it to him, now I am 80% fit, he won't even stand a chance if he can't take me when I am 65% fit.
Kelly: Well that's good news, will hopefully see another great match between you two come Monday. But I have to ask how does it feel to get a double count out and lose the chance to go in to The Night of The Immortals II to fight for the Middleweight Championship.
Bulldog: It sucks, it sucks so bad I wish I had managed to get up at the last second last week, I hate myself for missing the chance but you see Nick its made me see things in a different light, and now I won't stop till I hit the top, till I get that title or any title to put me back on top. Chad is now just a little stepping stone in my path to greatness in this company, I was at the top of the Street Fight world for a long time and I want the same feeling back at the top of the Middleweight world, so this goes out to who ever wins that title at The Night of The Immortals. . . I will be coming after you and that title, as I know it's the right thing to do, and I know I can walk away with it!
Bulldog walks off and leaves Nick standing there, screen slowly goes black as a CCW logo comes up.
END.
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:37:21 GMT
The cames fades in and we are once again at the local strip club. Donny Ramon is back sitting at the chair trying to forget his latest nightmare. Vincent Reinhardt pushes his way through a group of horny young men and takes his seat next to Ramon.
Ramon: Where the hell have you been man?. I've been looking for you everywhere.
Reinhardt: I had to take a piss. What's the big problem?.
Ramon blushes somewhat and takes another gulp of his cocktail.
Ramon: I went to that "Pleasure Island" section right. I meet some chick outside and I need her to get in there. So we go inside and I'm ready to see some boobies my friend. I was feeling the urge man. Then I open my eyes and what the hell is standing in front of me.....
Reinhardt cuts him off
Reinhardt: ..... a man.
Ramon: How the hell did you know that my friend.
Reinhardt laughs and struggles to light his cigar. Ramon seems frustrated and quickly polishes off his cocktail.
Reinhardt: Lucky guess Donny. Just a lucky guess.
Ramon: Well I've had enough of that bullshit. I just wanna see these fine "REAL" women. They can dance for the champions all night long.
Reinhardt takes another puff of his cigar and scans the women around the room.
Reinhardt: Well if we don't focus on Cowards and Marnie on Unleashed then we won't be the champions anymore. Meaning we won't be able to throw it out there just to get some action from a chick..... or a guy. Whatever way you feel like swinging.
Ramon: Look man don't joke about that again. It's not funny. That thing haunts a guy. Don't be a buzz kill my friend.
Reinhardt checks his watch and stubs his cigar into the ash tray. He necks the rest of his beer and stands up. Ramon turns to him.
Ramon: Where in the hell are you going?.
Reinhardt: I've gotta meet a contact. He claims to know who our mystery team member will be for Night of The Immortals II.
Ramon: You know what, I'll come with you. 'Cause for some reason I can't seem to get it up anymore. I'm no longer in lovin' mood.
The two men put on their coats and head for the exit. Ramon avoiding the gaze of Crystal Bunny.
Ramon: Oh by the way. I think I saw Cowards and Marnie getting freaky inside that "Pleasure Island" room too.
Reinhardt: That doesn't surprise me. You should check out the drag queen karaoke night. Their biggest star is a guy who dresses up like a broad and calls himself "Maxine Macbeth".
Ramon: No way you mean "Mad" M......
The screen fades to black as they leave the club.
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:38:05 GMT
Ross: The match we have coming up next pits the last Street Fight Champion against Chad McKenzie, one half of the former CCW tag team champions, Union Jakked!
Buffer: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first…
“London Calling” hits to a chorus of boos, and Chad McKenzie emerges from behind the curtain, slowly walking down the ramp and sneering contemptuously at the fans. As he enters the ring, he taunts arrogantly to even more fervent boos.
Buffer: From London, England, weighing in at 215 pounds, he is one half of Union Jakked, CHAD…MCKENZIE!
The boos turn to cheers as “I Wanna Rock” blares, and the last CCW Street Fight Champion, Bulldog, quickly runs down to the ring and, forgoing any formal introduction, slides under the bottom rope and rapidly gets right in McKenzie’s face.
McKenzie and Bulldog begin a rapid and furious exchange of blows, both men clearly benefiting from their long tenures in CCW. The fighting continues for a very long period before Bulldog stuns McKenzie, the crowd giving a pop as he aims several haymakers at the head of the Union Jakked member. Bulldog bounces off of the ropes and knocks McKenzie down with a springing dropkick. Continuing his assault, Bulldog turns his back to McKenzie and hits a standing back moonsault. The crowd “OH”s loudly and cheers as Bulldog taunts, turning away from McKenzie. In the break in the action, McKenzie stands and viciously clotheslines Bulldog in the back of the head. Bulldog crumples and the crowd boos as McKenzie begins to stomp quickly on the back of Bulldog’s head. He picks up the former Street Fight champ and grabs him from behind, attempting to catch Bulldog in a back suplex. However, Bulldog, showing his tremendous agility, flips behind McKenzie. Landing on his feet, Bulldog sweeps McKenzie’s legs out from under him and quickly capitalizes, locking in a leglock submission hold!
Ross: McKenzie’s in some trouble here if he can’t escape this hold!
McKenzie screams in pain as Bulldog wrenches his leg harder, and the ref quickly checks to see if McKenzie wants to submit. He furiously shakes his head, pounding the mat in frustration, and slowly crawls to the ropes. He grabs the bottom rope, and the ref admonishes Bulldog, who doesn’t let go until the count of four. Bulldog releases the hold and drops an elbow on McKenzie’s injured leg, causing him to scream again. Bulldog picks up McKenzie and doubles him over in a seemingly piledriver setup, but McKenzie uses his weight advantage to reverse the move and backdrop Bulldog hard down to the unforgiving canvas!
Heyman: That’s what happens when a shrimp like Bulldog tries to do a man’s job!
McKenzie quickly grabs Bulldog and drags him over to the corner, bashing his head repeatedly into the top turnbuckle. When Bulldog is significantly stunned, McKenzie pulls him away from the ropes and, clinching his head, drives him forcefully into the canvas with a DDT! McKenzie quickly covers…
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Bulldog kicks out with authority at two, and McKenzie looks incredibly frustrated. Picking up his slightly smaller foe, McKenzie looks to hit a piledriver of his own, but Bulldog reverses also, rolling through and catching McKenzie in a quick pinning predicament!
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
McKenzie kicks out as well, and Bulldog stands, bouncing off the ropes again. He moves to clothesline McKenzie, but McKenzie ducks, running past Bulldog and bouncing off of the other set of ropes! As McKenzie comes back, he hits a thunderous spinning heel kick right in Bulldog’s face!
“OH!”
McKenzie moves quickly, climbing up to the top rope and signaling for the London Falling!
Ross: If he hits this it’s over!
McKenzie dives, perfectly on target, but at the last possible moment Bulldog rolls out of the way to a tremendous pop as McKenzie crashes down to the canvas!
Ross: Oh, nobody home, and McKenzie is paying for it right now!
Indeed McKenzie is, as he clutches his back in evident pain and Bulldog picks him up, quickly hitting a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker on McKenzie’s clearly injured back. Bulldog holds on, leaning back with his knee buried into McKenzie’s and both of his arms behind his back, locking the Union Jakked member in a painful looking submission! McKenzie screams in utter agony but refuses to submit as the ref repeatedly asks him.
Heyman: C’mon Chad! Hang tough!
McKenzie screams louder than ever as, inexplicably, Heather St. Clair runs down to the ring to a thunderous chorus of boos and distracts the referee as McKenzie clearly submits!
Ross: Dammit this is over! What’s that jezebel doing down here?
As St. Clair continues to distract the ref, Joker runs down to the ring, street fight title in hand, and clocks Bulldog square in the back of the head with the heavy title belt!
“OH!”
Joker throws away the title, sneering, as the crowd boos for all they’re worth. Bulldog crumples to the mat, clearly unconscious.
Ross: Dammit! Not this way!
Heyman: Yes! Joker and The Body Count are sending a message here tonight!
The still pained McKenzie weakly covers the unconscious Bulldog…
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Buffer: Here is your winner, Chad McKenzie!
Joker laughs and celebrates his one-upping of Bulldog as McKenzie stands, raising his arms in victory. “London Calling” blasts over the speakers as the camera pans over to the still grinning and taunting Joker. Jim Ross gets in one last word as the screen fades to black…
Ross: Bahgawd, Bulldog WILL HAVE HIS REVENGE! We’ll be right back!
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:38:24 GMT
The camera opens to see Paul Hill backstage, dressed for his match with Lance Leonard. He looks sombre, and a little on edge.
Hill: I'm not a man of words. I don't deal in catchphrases, or t-shirts, or endorsements. I'm just a wrestler. And recently, I've been a pretty poor excuse for a wrestler. Once upon a time, I'd stand here and promise a victory. Now I can't do that. I'm at my lowest ebb. I'm running on empty. All that's left in the tank will be spent tonight. After that, I don't know.
Hill walks away, leaving the camera to follow.
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:39:13 GMT
Michael Buffer: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the CCW Global TAG TEAM Championships!
Introducing the challengers . . .”
The lights above the ring, and along the Unleashes set, fade out until the entire arena is bathed in darkness. Pillars of white light shine down from the ceiling to the floor, and vice versa, which creates a film noir-esque shadow effect on the viewer’s television screens; a hush falling over the audience as Ennio Morricone’s Mouth Organ electric guitar theme stars playing over the loudspeakers.
Marnie steps out onto the stage amidst a mild fog, removing his brown lapelled coat in the process, and takes possession of the cigarette in his mouth via the assistance of his right hand. He then takes a quick drag from the end of it, stubs it out against a portion of the set, and flicks the butt off toward the side at his own convenience . . .
Buffer: “First; from Parts Unknown, weighing in at two hundred and forty pounds . . . representing “The Monsters Of Pro Wrestling" . . .
This, is MAR-NIE!”
The enigmatic superstar begins trudging his way down the aisle, but squats down halfway as his music suddenly fades out; his actions causing the lights to return to their standard arrangement as Pink Floyd’s “Run Like Hell” quickly replaces the soothing piece to an instantaneous chorus of heartfelt boos. Small bursts of pyro go off around the width of the video screen above the entrance opening, and yellow sparks proceed raining down onto the stage as the National Heavyweight Champion struts out through the black entrance curtain with his arms raised high overhead . . .
Buffer: “And his tag team partner; also representing “The Monsters Of Pro Wrestling”, he hails from Hereford, England. Weighing in at two hundred and fifty seven pounds . . . he is the reigning CCW National HEAVYWEIGHT Champion . . .
COW-ARDS!”
Cowards continues walking until he meets up at Marnie’s left side, and the two stable mates give each other a quick nod before walking the rest of the way toward ringside in unison. Marnie slides inside the ring through the lull underneath the bottom rope, and crawls his way toward the center of the ring, as Cowards hops up onto the apron and steps in through the gap of the top and middle ropes. Marnie runs off the east side set of ropes, and then squats down near the center of the ring as Cowards climbs up onto the middle turnbuckle pad of the southeast corner. Cowards then throws his arms overhead to another rousing series of jeers, and unlatches the National Title belt from around his waist.
He then drops back down to the mat, tosses the title to the outside, and turns to face the entrance opening as his music fades out; crouching down into a rather serious fighting stance at Marnie’s left side, and watching on with an increased sense of awareness.
Buffer: “And, their opponents . . .”
Ween’s “Puerto Rican Power” breaks the silence, and hits the arena to a vibrant pop as searchlights begin scanning the entire width of the building. As the intro to the song ends, and the main portion of the song kicks in, both Reinhardt and Ramon appear from behind the curtain with simultaneous grins on their face. Ramon has on his trademark Hawaiian shirt, and puffs nonchalantly on the end of a cigar in order to exhale smoke rings above his head; both men wearing their individual title belts around their waists as they walk down the aisle with a purpose evident in their demeanors . . .
Buffer: “Weighing in at a total combined weight of six hundred and twenty two pounds . . . they are the reigning, and defending, CCW Global TAG TEAM Champions . . .
Donny RAMON, and Vincent REIN-HARDT!”
As they reach the foot of the ramp, Ramon stubs out the end of his cigar along the concrete floor before slowly unbuttoning and removing his shirt. Reinhardt climbs up onto the apron and then steps over the top rope before removing the sunglasses from his face; cracking his neck, further loosen up, and strip off his trenchcoat as Ramon rolls inside behind him. Donny then steps up onto the second turnbuckle pad of the southwest corner, and poses to another positive reaction as Reinhardt hands his possessions off to someone along the outside. Reinhardt then turns to the fans on the three remaining sides of the squared circle that his opponents aren’t standing at, and thrusts his arms overhead as a thank you to them.
Ramon then hops back down to his feet at Reinhardt’s right side, and reaches back to unlatch the belt from around his waist as the music fades out into thin air. The crowd is now buzzing with excitement as both Championships are handed to the referee, and this continues as the belts are then raised overhead to signify the importance of this encounter. Both teams then quietly decide amongst themselves who will start out for their particular squads as the belts are passed to the outside, and the bell is ultimately rung.
The match is now officially underway . . .
DING! DING! DING!
Reinhardt is decided upon for the Champions, with Marnie for the opposition, and steps forward as Donny Ramon and Cowards climb out onto the apron near their designated corners. Reinhardt issues a collar-and-elbow tie-up, which Marnie is quick to ignore; focusing his attention on strategy more so than strength by goading the big man in, and using the distraction to kick at his calves. This doesn’t phase Vincent in the manner that Marnie had hoped, and the 7-footer responds by merely grabbing him by the shoulders and tossing him back with all of his might . . .
“OOH!”
Marnie lands on his shoulders, and rolls through until he is back on his knees near the southeast corner; pushing back to his feet with assistance from the ropes, and clapping his hands in mock encouragement before stepping forward to continue the fight. Marnie slinks across the east side set of ropes before Reinhardt lunges forward, and once again catches his foe off guard with repeated kicks to the legs. Reinhardt responds in kind by once again grabbing at Marnie, this time by the throat, and executing a thunderous Choke Toss that sends his much smaller opponent halfway across the ring!
“OH!”
Marnie tumbles through into a sitting stance, and scurries back to his feet as Reinhardt closes the gap between him and the corner. Vincent pushes Marnie back into the crook, connects with a few right forearms to the brow, and then pushes him forward by the left arm to execute an Irish-whip; watching on as he hits the adjacent buckle, and stumbles forward, before taking him over with a high back body drop!
“OH!”
Marnie lands hard on his back, and arches it in response to the pain as Reinhardt then bounds off the north side set of ropes with a self Irish-whip, and executes an angled jumping right-leg drop across the throat! Marnie’s body flops underneath Vincent’s three hundred and thirty eight pounds, and Reinhardt wastes no time in rolling over onto the man’s upper torso for a lateral press:
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
“AW!”
Cowards enters the fray, and breaks up the pin with a right hand to the base of Reinhardt’s neck; drawing the ire of the big man, who wastes no time in pushing back to his feet to intimidate the National Champion back into his corner. Vincent then turns his attention back to Marnie, pulls him up to his feet by a handful of blond messy hair, and hoists him up into a Bearhug-type maneuver before charging toward the northwest corner . . .
“OOH!”
Vincent guides Marnie spine first into the crook, and proceeds to soften him up with a series of Batista-esque shoulder thrusts to the lower ribcage before tagging in Donny Ramon. This brings about an enthusiastic pop, and Donny climbs up onto the second rope as Reinhardt then places Marnie in a sitting stance against the top turnbuckle pad; leaving him vulnerable as Ramon then jumps up onto the top rope, and uses it to execute a springboard Hurricanrana!
“OH!”
Marnie lands on his back near the center of the ring, and Ramon turns 180 degrees from his knees before crawling over to make the cover:
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
“AW!”
Once again, it is up to Cowards to break the pin with a well-placed right foot to the top of the head; forcing a visibly perturbed Ramon back to his feet in hot pursuit of the Hereford native. Cowards is quick to hop back to the outside, however, and smacks his hands against the apron as his feet hit the floor; goading Ramon into coming after him, and mocking him when he goes no further than bending through the ropes to talk some smack. Ramon eventually extends back to a full-on vertical base, though, and turns back around to continue his offensive front; giving Cowards ample time to grab him by the right foot, and trip him up. Ramon isn’t able to catch this in time, and stumbles forward into a surprise high knee from a slowly recuperating Marnie . . .
SMACK!
“OOH!”
Ramon is hit along the bridge of his nose, and the force behind the strike causes his knees to buckle as Marnie falls back against the south side set of ropes for support. Ramon hits the canvas face first, and Marnie wastes no time in tagging in the fresh Cowards; a negative reaction preceding his actual involvement, and continuing as he begins laying the boots to Donny along his back. Cowards tells them all to fuck off with a cross of his arms, and then bends down to grab Ramon by the base of the neck; using the muscles to then drag the man’s unresponsive form toward the south side set of ropes, and place him throat first across the middle. Cowards then places his right kneecap down against Ramon’s neck, and uses it to further choke the fan favorite against the middle rope as the official administers his standard five-count . . .
One, two, three, four . . .
Vincent Reinhardt steps angrily over the top rope, and begins making his way toward Coward when the official stops him in mid-motion. The heel wrestlers use quick to use this distraction to their advantage, as Marnie drops down to the floor and holds Ramon’s throat down on the cable; keeping him incapacitated as Coward proceeds to lambaste Ramon with a series of punching combinations to the back and ribs.
“BOO!”
Reinhardt gives up, as he is quick to realize that his interference is only hurting matters, and reluctantly exits the ring as Marnie climbs back up onto the apron; leaving the official none-the wiser as Cowards pulls Ramon up to his feet, and drives him back down to the canvas with a Regal Suplex!
“OH!”
Ramon lands on his neck and shoulders, near the center of the ring, and Cowards rolls over onto his hands and knees before crawling to Donny’s left side; grinding his right forearm down against Ramon’s forehead, and hooking the far left leg back for an attempted pinfall:
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
“YEAH!”
Reinhardt gets a measure of revenge by scraping the sole of his right boot against the top of Cowards’ skull, and breaking up the pin to a tremendous pop. He is then sent back to the outside, and Cowards responds by squeezing his hands around Ramon’s throat with a blatant chokehold; trying his best to keep the Puerto Rican Powerhouse grounded, and the momentum on his side, until the official eventually catches wind of his actions. Cowards releases his grip, pushes back to his feet, and drags Ramon toward his corner by the left foot before tagging in Marnie; bending down to drag Donny back to a lackadaisical base as Marnie slowly ascends to the top turnbuckle pad. Cowards then hoists Ramon up onto his shoulders, with his left hand cradling the man’s head, and remains still as Marnie leaps forward to deliver a Missile Dropkick; his feet connecting solidly with Ramon’s right temple, and sending him down to the canvas with a Cowards-assisted Samoan Drop!
“OH!”
Ramon hits hard beneath Cowards’ weight, and rolls over onto his right side as Marnie crawls toward him to attempt a quick lateral press:
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
“YEAH!”
Ramon somehow manages to throw his left shoulder off the canvas, and turns over onto his stomach as a bewildered Marnie runs a hand through his hair. Marnie doesn’t get discouraged, though, and drags Donny back to his feet; guiding him face first into the top turnbuckle pad of the northeast corner, and then hoisting him up into a reverse sitting stance against it before climbing up to join him. Marnie places Ramon’s right arm around his neck, and then looks to drive him back to the canvas with a Belly-To-Back Suplex . . . but Ramon responds to this with a few left-handed jabs to left ribcage.
Marnie tries to fight through this, but is ultimately unsuccessful as Ramon frees himself from the attempted maneuver with a right elbow to the face . . . followed by another . . . and then another that sends Marnie crashing back first to the mat instead!
“YEAH!”
Marnie hits hard, but quickly rolls over onto his hands and knees to avenge his mistakes; running forward to scurry back up the turnbuckles just as Ramon performs a backflip, and hitting the crook chest first . . .
“OOH!”
Ramon lands on his feet behind Marnie in an incredible display of agility, and catches the man by the right shoulder as he stumbles back; twirling him around 180 degrees, doubling him over with a right foot to the stomach, and rotating through in a 180 degree motion of his own to hit The Puerto Rican Special!
“OH!”
Marnie hits face first, and his body bounces along the canvas between Ramon’s legs as Donny remains in his sitting stance; clearly exhausted due to the amount of fight having been invested in this bout thus far. He doesn’t even attempt to pin Marnie, and instead focuses all of his energy into standing so that he may tag in his more than fresh partner; completely unbeknownst that Cowards has once again entered the fray until it is entirely too late . . .
“AW!”
As Ramon reaches his feet, and turns around to maintain his balance, he leaves himself completely vulnerable for a devastating spear from the Cowardly One; the force of which causes his body to react in a whiplash-like manner, and drops him without hesitation! His body sprawls out as it hits, and Cowards drags Marnie’s unresponsive form back toward his corner as he leaves; the interference once again drawing the attention of a clearly anxious Vincent Reinhardt, who attempts to enter in defense of his partner, but is quickly admonished by the official.
Cowards then claps his hands together behind the referee’s back, to a chorus of boos, and steps inside to pick up where Marnie had left off; dropping down into a lateral press as the confused official assesses the situation, and ultimately drops down to make the count:
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
THR-
“YEAH!”
Ramon just barely manages to get the left shoulder up, and the place almost literally explodes due to the level of volume in the combined voice of the people. Cowards begins pulling at his hair, and then resorts to slapping at the canvas out of obvious frustration before pushing angrily back to a vertical base. He forces Ramon up with him, and then pushes him toward the southwest corner with an Irish-whip . . . but Donny shifts his weight in mid-motion, spins through, and catches Cowards off-guard with a reversal before stepping back to watch him hit the crook. When this happens, Ramon charges forward to deliver a shoulder block to the abdomen . . . but Cowards shows some incredible athleticism of his own, and uses the top rope to hoist his lower half into the air. Ramon is able to stop himself from hitting the ring post, but Cowards uses the situation to his advantage by first wrapping his legs around Donny’s midsection, and rolling through to take him down with a Sunset Flip . . .
ONE . . .
Before Cowards can hook the legs with his arms for maximum leverage, however, Ramon reverse somersaults back onto his feet; leaving Cowards absolutely stunned for a long enough period of time to then leap forward, and connect with a front dropkick directly to the face!
SMACK
“AW!”
Cowards is unable to protect himself in time, and the soles of both of Ramon’s feet connect flush with his orbital bones; the force of which sends him onto his back along the canvas, and allows Ramon to turn over onto his stomach.
“DONNY! DONNY! DONNY! DONNY!”
Ramon claws at the mat, and pounds at it with his fists as he summons every ounce of strength remaining in his being to crawl toward the northwest corner; the fans buzzing in the background, and continuing to build momentum for their favorite as he inches closer and closer by the second. Vincent Reinhardt, who has damn near reached ADD-like levels of readiness on the outside, begins smacking at the top turnbuckle pad with all of his might; physically and verbally urging his partner to make it, and holding his right arm out over the top rope in preparation for his arrival . . .
“NO!”
Just as Ramon is about to reach forward and make the tag, however, a recuperative Cowards has managed to cut him off by grabbing at his free right foot; using it to force the man back to a semi-vertical base, which he obtains by hopping, and then twirling him around 360 degrees to attempt a Bulmer Blast . . .
SMACK
“YEAH!”
As Ramon regains his footing, though, he lunges forward before Cowards has a chance to react; slamming his left arm across Cowards’ pasty white chest, and taking him down with a powerful Latino Burner Lariat! Ramon lands on his knees at Cowards’ right side, and simply extends his right arm behind him for the much-needed tag!
“YEAH!”
Vincent Reinhardt steps over the top rope to a thunderous ovation, and levels an oncoming Marnie with a STIFF lariat; immediately turning his attention to befuddled Cowards, and grabbing him by left arm to Irish-whip him into the north side set of ropes. Upon Cowards’ rebound, Reinhardt catches him by the right arm, and spins back toward the center of the ring to hit him with a powerful Sidewalk Slam; the force of which causes all the bodies along the canvas to bounce! He remains in the sitting stance at Cowards’ left side, and attempts the deciding pinfall:
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
Reinhardt beaks the cover manually by catching Marnie’s right foot with his left hand, and using it to push back to his feet; shoving the leg away, and then clamping both of his hands down against Marnie’s throat for what looks like an attempted Baldo Bomb! As he is about to deliver the maneuver, however, Cowards halts his momentum with a running forearm to the base of the neck; stalling him long enough for Marnie to regain his senses, before the two push Reinhardt back against the west side set of ropes for a double Irish-whip. On the rebound, however, Reinhardt leaps forward like a missile; clipping both of his arms around their throats with a massive flying double clothesline that again shakes the ring to it’s very foundation!
“YEAH!”
Reinhardt climbs back to a vertical base, and Marnie stumbles up with him due to the force behind the takedown; allowing Reinhardt to scoop him up onto his right shoulder, charge toward the northeast corner, and throw Marnie down face first against the top turnbuckle. Reinhardt then takes off toward the south side set of ropes, and Marnie stumbles backwards before turning around directly into the sole of Vincent’s right boot; the Snake Eyes maneuver having been executed to the fullest degree as Marnie goes down in a heap!
SMACK
“AW!”
Marnie inadvertently rolls to the outside, underneath the bottom rope of the east side, and Reinhardt performs his signature taunt to yet another vibrant reaction; his attention turning back toward Cowards, who is just now climbing back to his feet with assistance from the west side set of ropes. Cowards eventually makes it back to his feet, and stumbles back until unintentionally hitting Reinhardt’s chest . . . allowing the big man to twirl him around by the right shoulder, and clamp his right hand down against his throat with a loud smack:
SMACK
“OOH!”
Reinhardt then stares into Cowards’ glassy eyes before placing his left hand on the small of the mans back; using it to hoist all two hundred and fifty seven pounds into the air before dumping him right back down with a thunderous Chokeslam!
“AW!”
Cowards hits with an absurd amount of force, and his body remains motionless along the canvas as Donny Ramon once again makes his presence felt. Ramon slaps at his partners chest, and holds him back from attempting the pin; gesturing to him that they should, in fact, end the match in the exact same manner as they had last week. Reinhardt simply nods, peels Cowards up to a lackadaisical base, and thrusts his head down in-between his legs before wrapping both arms around his abdomen; quickly hoisting him up into a sitting stance against his shoulders in one fluid motion. He then slams Cowards down at an angle as Ramon leaps into the air underneath him; both successfully completing the Hellbeast Bomb/Back Cracker combination finisher to quite possibly the loudest pop of the evening!
“AW!”
Cowards is rendered incapable of continuing, and Reinhardt responds by simply placing the sole of his right boot down against the mans chest. The referee immediately dives down to make the deciding count:
ONE . . .
TWO . . .
THREE . . .
DING! DING! DING!
Reinhardt raises his left fist into the air, and Ramon responds with a celebratory high-five; both men continuing to celebrate as Fuel’s “Won’t Back Down” booms over the loudspeakers to signify their victory. The referee wastes no time in fetching their hardware as Michael Buffer makes the decision official with his announcement:
Buffer: “Here are your winners . . . and STILL, CCW Global TAG TEAM Champions . . .
Donny RAMON, and Vincent REIN-HARDT!”
Both men take repossession of their title belts, and hold them high overhead to another enthusiastic ovation for their efforts; the cheers from the crowd serving as more than enough of a distraction for the following to take place . . .
“NO!”
From out of seemingly nowhere, all three members of team Onslaught charge the ring from backstage to administer a post-match beat down; The Wh_ concentrating all of his efforts on the smaller Donny Ramon, as Adam Matthews and Marcus Knight work as a tandem on Vincent Reinhardt. Ramon suffers the effects of a big boot to the face, as Reinhardt is viciously pounded into a fetal position along the canvas; the beat down progressing even further as The Wh_ then joins his teammates in the mugging of Vincent Reinhardt after pushing Cowards to the outside underneath the bottom rope of the north side set.
DING! DING! DING!
As this is going on, Griffin Young inexplicably sneaks over the security barrier to scoop Cowards up onto his shoulders, and disappears just as quickly as he had appeared through the more than confused members of the audience. The camera then re-focuses on the happening inside the ring . . . and as all hope is considered lost, “Just Stop” by Disturbed hits the arena to a rousing, near riotous praise!
Team Onslaught pays the music no mind, however, and continues their assault; leaving them completely susceptible as Joshua James races down the aisle with a steel chair in hand! He slides inside the ring underneath the bottom rope, of the east side set, and stabs at The Wh_’s midsection with the point of the chair to double him over; keeping him at bay as Adam Matthews turns around to heed the commotion . . .
CRACK
“YEAH!”
Matthews takes the brunt of the shot to the top of the head, falls to his back, and rolls back to the outside as Marcus Knight looks to bumrush James from behind; leaving himself vulnerable to a left elbow to the abdomen, and then a swift chair shot directly to the spine!
CRACK
“AW!”
Knight goes down in a heap, and arches his back in response to the pain before exiting the danger zone in the same manner that Matthews had done only seconds earlier; giving James all the room he needs to then smack the chair down against The Wh_’s back as he attempts to push back to a vertical base!
CRACK
“YEAH!”
The Wh_ remains doubled over, and James shows off his incredible strength by executing an Olympic Slam; the force of which causes The Wh_ to bounce along the canvas, and roll to safety along the outside underneath the bottom rope of the east side set!
“YEAH!”
James is quick to shoot back to his feet, and stands tall amidst a ridiculous ovation as the rival team has been vanquished; his presence proving vital to the new brand as a plethora of officials race down to check on the condition of Donny Ramon and Vincent Reinhardt. The screen fades to black for a much needed commercial break as James continues to stand alone near the middle of the ring before bending down to check on his teammates out of genuine concern . . .
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:39:38 GMT
PRE-TAPED SEGMENT: EXT. BEHIND THE ARENA, NIGHT
Lance Leonard, dressed in a suit, long black velvet jacket and dark sunglasses, stands in front of a back entrance into the arena. He removes his shades, chuckles, and begins to speak.
Leonard: Paul Hill, you're intelligent enough for me not to have to spell your fate out for you. You know as well as I do what is booked for tonight. You know just how high the stakes are. You know that settling the score against Nathan Versus last week, as delicious as it may have seemed, was merely a cog in the well oiled Machina that will keep on rolling towards the Night when the true Immortal of this sport will emerge and take...
Leonard grasps with an expensive leather-clad hand at the air
...What is rightfully his. And therefore, you know how focused, how determined and how closed to the distractions of personal indulgence Lance Leonard is at this moment and how monumental the task laid out before you tonight truly is.
... Or do you? Perhaps, Paul, that you think our first match was something gauge my ability by. Perhaps you believe that, despite the odds that lay before you, this is your time to shine. Perhaps you actually are beginning to believe your own subtle little hype that you are the greatest pure wrestler walking the face of this earth. Maybe, just maybe, you're telling yourself that when the moment comes, your immense technical instincts will be able to click just in time to come up with a counter to the Lancelock and pin the Future of Professional Wrestling, sending you hurtling against the catcalls and cries of the naysayers into the main event of the biggest show in the history of the business.
Maybe you're just not as smart as I gave you credit for. And then, you're faced with a conundrum, because if you really are shortsighted enough to overate yourself, that just makes me all the more dangerous. But believe this, Paul. When all the reversals are run through and all the counters are countered, all the psychology, determination and self-pitying in the world will add up to exactly shit-all when you find yourself in the most painful wrestling hold in history.
And then, Paul, you will know. And that is a Fact.
Lance steps towards the door, halts, and looks back at the camera.
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:41:10 GMT
The lights in the arena dim, as the opening of ‘Enae Volare Mezzo’ hit’s the arena, drawing a massive cheer from the capacity crowd! A chant of ‘Versus! Versus!’ fills the arena, whilst “One Man Army” Nathan Versus is raised from under the stage on a small platform…
Versus stands, peering out towards the crowd, expressionless, before making his way towards the ring, ignoring the fans that line the aisle. Versus rolls into the ring and immediately calls for a microphone, before waiting for the crowd to quieten down…
After a few moments, Versus opens his mouth to speak, only to pause, lowering the microphone, as something catches his eye…
The camera pans across to the front row, where two CCW fans, a young couple, both wearing JD Wheeler t-shirts, sit. Versus stares at the duo, who quickly realise why and mockingly taunt Versus by pointing to the Wheeler logo on the shirts…
Versus makes his way across the ring, leaning over the top rope, facing the couple. The chant of ‘Versus! Versus!’ fills the arena.
Versus smiles, laughs, then spits at the couple!
Ross: Good Lord, that was totally uncalled for!
A section of the crowd jeers in disapproval, whilst the young couple hurl insults towards the “One Man Army”, who merely smiles at them, and then steps back to the centre of the ring…
Once again, Versus raises the microphone to his mouth…
Versus: (after a long pause) There’s a limit to how much a man can take…
Versus turns to face the camera…
Versus: Wheeler, I reached the limit, I passed it by, and I ain’t looking back.
This Sunday, at Night Of The Immortals, I’m coming for you, son, and I’m bringing hell with me!
By now, the crowd is mixed with chants of ‘Versus! Versus!” and “Wheeler! Wheeler!”
Versus listens to the chants, his face emotionless…
Versus: (to the camera) May God have mercy on your punk ass!
Versus drops the microphone to the canvas, and exit’s the ring, not even waiting for his entrance music to hit…
He slowly makes his way back down the aisle, towards the stage. He stops momentarily, then walks to the back…
Ross: Nathan Versus is one troubled man…
Heyman: And that spells bad news for JD Wheeler!
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Post by Nathan Versus on Feb 21, 2007 0:41:53 GMT
The camera fades back in from black, and re-opens on a lone shot of the ring.
The guitar for Shallow strums a rhythm that causes the crowd to stand and see Lance Leonard prance from behind the curtain working his limbs. Pointing toward the crowd he surveys them and laughs to a joke he makes to himself about the fans and continues down the ramp. Fans reach out and shout abuse, and he narrowly avoids their saliva whilst grinning at them.
Michael Buffer: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is to determine the Number One Contender for the CCW Woooorld Heavyweight Championship!
Making his way to the ring, hailing from Arkham, Massachusetts, weighing in at two hundred and sixty pounds ...he is Laaaance Leonaaaard!”
JR: “Two former champions, only one of them will make it out of here as the Number One Contender. This is the most important night of their lives and soon for one of these men it will be the second most important.”
Heyman: “Way to spell it out, JR.”
Leonard reaches the ring and enters, and begins bouncing off the ropes in turn as he awaits his opponent.
'We are Godzilla' plays and Paul Hill strides to the ring with a determined look on his face. His eyes and Leonard's meet, and neither pair strays from one another’s.
Buffer: “And the opponent, from-”
Suddenly, Hill races down to the ring and Buffer leaves it quickly. Entering the squared circle both men trade blows, until Hill gets the upper hand and whips Leonard off the ropes.
DING! DING! DING!
The monster of pro wrestling comes back to hit a spinning elbow on the approaching Hill and stands at the ready for another confrontation when the Canadian bounces back to his feet and slices Leonard across the windpipe with a forceful clothesline. Leonard is quick to his feet, and Hill hits him hard with a knife edge chop across the chest to let him retreat to the ropes. Taking the arm, Hill whips Leonard into the opposite set of ropes and hits the arm drag to attempt an arm lock. Leonard grasps the wrist, however, and nips up to twist it, only for the relentless Canadian to roll forward and kicks the arms to release his grasp. They both stand still and pounce, and the crowd applaud.
Circling the ring, they come into the middle to lock up. Grinding his muscles against Hill's, Leonard heaves and plows at his smaller opponent, pushing him back across the ring to finally submit him into the corner. Hill pushes forward and swings Leonard round to force him into the corner, darting his head to try and avoid elbows and strikes his opponent begins to execute. Pushing and wrenching, Hill is eventually pried away by the referee and the two men snarl and cringe. They circle the ring once more, both focused and scanning each other's body to try and predict what they are going to do next. They lock up once more, only for Leonard to apply the headlock and clamps his wrists around his face to file them across his nose and chin. Moving his arms around, thinking of a way to reverse, Hill manages to hook his arm through the gap in between the hands and his face to take the arms and twist round to apply a top wristlock and shifts his weight against his opponent's. Hill is bent back and continues to be lowered so as that he is now balancing with the back of his head and feet on the floor. Throwing his legs over the arched body of Paul Hill, Leonard manages to finally press the technician down to a cover.
ONE!
Hill moves his right arm up and Leonard swings his legs back round to a half guard while keeping the wristlock applied. Arching the back, Hill manages to fight back with awesome strength back to a standing position, managing to reverse the top wristlock so as that the arm is twisted and Leonard bends forward. Hill drops hard on the arm and grounds Leonard, applying the Wakigitame. Leonard's pain is short, however, when he rolls forward only to be smothered by the Canadian. Leonard wraps his legs around Hill's waist, ascending his arms to block any forthcoming strikes, and suddenly takes advantage when a Hill's stray right arm is caught and he moves his legs to attempt to wrap them round the shoulders to complete a triangle hold, and after some struggle he executes the hold. Hill seems to fade with every second he is in the hold, but does not fall unconscious. After moments of stillness, the 36 year old heaves Leonard up off the floor while the bigger man continues to hold the pressure. After a couple of seconds, Hill slams Leonard back down with terrific force for him to loosen the hold.
JR: “What a Powerbomb! That's one way to get out of that.”
Hill rids himself of the hold and goes straight for Leonard's right arm, grasping the wrist and throwing over his other arm to attempt a Kimura lock, but Leonard grasps his arm to his chest and rolls back to release Hill's grasp. Once standing, and Hill kneeling, he connects sharply with a right foot to the ear, that echoes long into the arena. The crowd boo and the referee restrains Leonard, Hill baring his teeth and standing up to click his neck from side to side. Leonard removes the referee with a shove and the two stand toe to toe, and after some verbal abuse Leonard goes for the first blow, pushing him back and bringing his left foot up. Hill catches it, and wraps his arm round the leg to hit home with a dragon whip, then attempting the figure four leg lock. Leonard struggles out of his predicament, and gets to his feet only to be rushed with a clothesline. The crowd holler whilst Hill leans on the ropes for a breather.
Once finished, he spins to grasp the hair of a kneeling Lance Leonard, wrenching him straight and then pulling forward to execute a Snapmare. In the sitting position, Hill throws his arm around the neck to attempt a sleeper hold but Leonard sees it coming and takes the arm to raise from his position and twists the arm. Hill manages to make a forward roll and shifts his weight onto his hand to then lean onto his cranium and with great elasticity springs over to his feet to then twist the arm. Leonard does the same, and raises to attempt a kick to the side of Hill's head. He fails to connect, however, when Hill ducks and Leonard's leg goes over the arm. Slow to realize his mistake, Leonard pounces on the greatest opportunity thus far and grasps the wrist and shifts his weight forward to flip Hill onto his back to then apply the Jujigitame, hyper extending Hill's right arm. The crowd boo as Leonard imitates Versus, and Hill makes up for his slow reaction before by shifting them over to the bottom rope where he holds it.
JR: “We almost had a victor!”
Hill rises to hold his right arm, grunting loudly. Stretching the injured limb back and forth he eventually nods to the referee and the match continues. Approaching Leonard, the two men grasp each other's hands for a test of strength, only for Hill to apply a headlock once abandoning the hold. Pressing hard against his head and shoulders, Hill gets his larger opponent down to his knees, and he goes down to one. The crowd begin 'Hill' chants, as Hill raises to his feet bringing Leonard to one knee, and then to his feet. Leonard tires of the hold and lifts the Canadian to drive back with a hard back suplex, landing him on his kidneys. Hill doesn't let go of the hold, only uses his legs to hurdle over Leonard and apply the headlock in an even lower position than earlier. Leonard heaves him up after two stages of ascension with his knees and then feet and pulls him back to then vault him off the ropes, abolishing the hold. Once off the opposite set of ropes, Hill comes back to be hit with a big boot to his right arm. Shouting in pain, Hill is slower than Leonard to progress and kicked hard in the stomach. Hill attempts to straighten himself but Leonard kicks hard again to the abdomen and then once more. With Hill winded, Leonard swings Hill's right arm round his head and grasps his leg. Wrenching back he gradually lifts Hill into the air, only for him to shift the weight back onto himself and goes back to the vertical stance. With a surge of power, Leonard kicks forward to drive down in a snap fisherman brainbuster, incapacitating Hill for the first time in the match.
JR: “By Gawd, what a maneuver!”
Leonard covers Hill.
ONE,
TWO-
Hill gets the shoulder up and Leonard springs back up to stomp hard on Hill's right arm. The crowd boo, and Leonard becomes aware of it. Stepping away from Hill he grasps his groin, making the crowd aware of what he is doing.
Leonard: “Boo that, dick-weeds.”
Leonard turns back to the now kneeling Paul Hill and clutches his chin and hair to rise him to his feet. All in a sudden, Hill rolls wraps Leonard in a small package, the referee dropping hard onto the mat to count.
ONE,
TWO!
Leonard kicks out and rises at the same time as Hill to crack his jaw with a malevolent forearm. Hill shakes it off and catches Leonard with a high-velocity knife edge chop across the windpipe. Leonard drops to the mat, and then stands to stagger back into the corner, holding his throat. The crowd simmer, and produce a crowd reaction that amounts to a high rate of decibels. The two men circle the ring once more, and go to lock up. Before they can, however, Leonard grasps the wrist and throws his arm over to grasp his own wrist, applying the Kimura lock, and Hill is grounded. Hill struggles, writhes, wriggles but cannot stop the extreme pressure Leonard puts on his shoulder. Baring his teeth, Hill tries to get to the ropes but Leonard flips over so his back is arched over Hill's head and he applies the hold without threat of escape. Hill shakes his head as the referee drops to the mat and urges him to submit.
Heyman: “He can't throw away his chance! He's not going to submit even if it means that his arm breaks!”
Hill's facial expressions represent a great deal of excruciating pain. Leonard flips back to his former position due to a lack of endurance and goes to apply the hold from the kneeling position. Snapping, pulling, twisting sinew and bone, Hill's desperation for the ropes grows as Leonard continues the increase in pressure. Hand stretched, fingers wriggling he stretches forward as much as possible...and grasps the bottom rope.
JR: “He must have broken his arm, Paul!”
The referee forces Leonard to release the hold and is ushered back into his corner. Hill stands to hold his right arm to his chest and bares his teeth, his eyes burning through Leonard's.
Crowd: “Leonard sucks! Leonard sucks!”
Leonard nods to the crowd's chant and then grins at Hill. They circle the ring more gradually now, and come into the middle only for Hill to hit an arm drag with his left arm on Leonard, applying his own Kimura lock on the leader of the MoPW. Leonard rises to reverse the hold, spinning Hill round to wrap his arms round his waist. Hill drives his elbow into one of Leonard's forearms and takes it to apply a hammerlock only to spring straight into a headlock and makes the takeover. Hill grasps Leonard's right arm to wrap it round the back of his head and attempts to put his left arm round through the gap but Leonard blocks it, only enough for a few seconds and Hill manages to eventually apply the hold referred to as the Anaconda Vice once applying pressure to the carotid artery.
JR: “Anaconda Vice! Anaconda Vice! Leonard's in danger of losing his title shot!”
Leonard is not nearly as affected as he would usually be, seeing as Hill's right arm does not offer much pressure to the neck. Leonard drags over to the ropes, coughing and spurting and eventually manages to grip the rope with his spare hand, and the hold is broken. Both men stand and Hill strikes Leonard hard across the chest with a knife edge chop whilst leaning back on the nearest set of ropes but Leonard blocks the next chop with crossed forearms and strikes him hard with a forearm. Hill hits Leonard with one of his own, and holds his right arm after doing so. Leonard staggers round dazed before he spins his round to hook both arms to heave back and hits the tiger suplex, bridging it!
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Leonard kicks out!
Both men take a while to stand and when they do, Hill attempts a clothesline. Leonard ducks underneath and applies a half nelson to then lift back to execute a picture perfect half nelson suplex, Hill's upper dorsal cracking against the floor. Leonard blinks hard and crawls over, hooking the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
Hill kicks out!
JR: “Neither man is backing down! We might not have a winner at the end of the night!”
Heyman: “Leonard.”
Both men struggle to stand, because their legs have effectively become like jelly. With sheer willpower they manage to get to their feet, and trade blows. Leonard gets the upper hand with stiff, quick and ruthless high kicks against the temples and forehead of his opponent and thereafter races off the ropes and comes back with a running big boot to Hill's forehead decking him and producing “ooh’s” from the worked up crowd.
JR: “What a boot! Leonard just needs to crawl over!”
Leonard shakes off the trauma and tiredness and drops to the mat, able to claw over and drape his arm over.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
NO!
Hill moves his shoulder, perhaps a spasm, maybe one more gasp to try and get within meters of the title. Both men take an age to get up, and retire to their corners staring at each other with empty glares. Leonard is first to approach, and they trade right hands. Hill gets the upper hand this time and whips Leonard into the ropes to take the arm and attempt a Cradle Crossface on the ground. Leonard escapes and pounces on an opportunity to grasps the right arm and put it behind his head and completes the Lancelock, Hill writhing in pain!
JR: “Is that it? Is that the end of this amazing battle, this war!”
Suddenly; Adam Machiavelli, Sammael, Joker and D.C. Blood appear from different sections of the crowd, climb over the security barrier, and make their way toward the ring.
Leonard realizes them coming, but continues to apply the pressure in an attempt to make his relentless opponent submit. Machiavelli is first to enter and strikes the referee with a stiff right hand, and advances on Leonard to stamp on his head. Leonard lets go of the hold and stands to trade blows with “The Mack“, but is unable to get any offense when Sammael races over and hits him across the jaw with a stiff Lariat. Joker and Blood enter and begin to assault Paul Hill with stomps and Blood mounts him to strike him with bare knuckles.
Violence appears at the mouth of the stage with Heather St. Clair and gradually makes his way to the ring with a huge grin.
JR: “Get that malicious bastard outta’ here! Those sons of bitches have ruined this match!”
DING! DING! DING!
The timekeeper begins ringing the bell without the official decision, knowing full well that such an action is appropriate.
Inside the ring, however, the beating doesn’t stop. Joker & D.C. Blood pull Paul Hill’s near-unconscious form to a lackadaisical base, and Joker holds him in a front Facelock as Blood scales the top turnbuckle pad of the northwest corner. Once Blood is able to regain his balance, he instructs Joker to plant Hill with The Punch Line; setting him up perfectly for a 450 “Bloodbath” Splash!
Crowd: “OH!”
Blood pushes up to his feet as Hill grabs at his midsection, and Joker meets his stable mate with a high five before both turn their attention to Lance Leonard. He continuously tries to fight back against the overwhelming odds, but is ultimately rendered immobile by a straight right foot to the forehead from Saamael. Adam Machiavelli then slaps at Lance’s face, in an effort to taunt him, before furiously dragging him up off the canvas and into a Torture Rack; pushing him up off of his shoulders, and planting him right back down with the “Wisconsin Death Trip” Sit-out Powerbomb!
Crowd: “OH!”
Josh Violence & Heather St. Clair watch from outside the ring the entire time, and their expression never changes; both obviously pleased with the manner in which their plan has worked out.
Machiavelli pushes Leonard’s lower torso away, and scurries back to his feet in order to hurl more insults toward the fallen “Monster”; eventually pushing back to join his allies with a group taunt, and allowing the leader of the group to take the proverbial floor.
Heather performs her usual entrance into the ring, pushes back to her feet amidst whistles and catcalls, and sits down against the second rope; widening the gap between it and the top rope as her man makes his way up onto the apron via the steel stairs to his left. Violence pats at the faceplate of his title, turns 180 degrees to face Heather, and then bends down to climb in; giving his woman a quick peck on the lips as he does so, which draws the unremitting ire of the already riled-up fans.
He sneers at the fallen bodies of Leonard and Hill before greeting his posse with arms wide open; praising them for a job well done as Heather St. Clair struts across the width of the canvas to request the use of Michael Buffer’s microphone, which he gives up without hesitation.
She then turns back around, and continues strutting until she is standing directly over Lance’s body, which just so happens to be along the center of the ring, before opening her mouth to speak:
St. Clair: “Due to outside interference, this match has been declared . . . a No-Contest!”
Her words bring about a rousing chorus of boos, and she curtsies before handing the mic off to Josh Violence. Violence wraps his right arm around her waist, and then pushes her into his side before clearing his throat. He then raises the head of the instrument to his lips, licks them, and looks to pick up where his beau had just left off:
Violence: “Which means that . . . if I’m not mistaken . . . there is no winner. And because there is no winner . . . that would, in turn, suggest that the title of Number One Contender is still vacant. And if that title is still vacant going into this Sunday . . . then I guess that means that Josh Violence isn’t wrestling at Night Of The Immortals. What does everyone think about that?”
His words are met with an even louder, more negative reaction that St. Clair could have ever hoped for. Violence erases the mock confusion from his expression, shakes his head in disgust, and then looks back up to face the crowd before continuing:
Violence: “Well, if I may quote one Dwayne Johnson; it doesn’t MATTER what you people think!
It doesn’t matter what you think of me . . . it doesn’t matter what you think of my bitch . . . it doesn’t matter what you think about my associates; and it DAMN sure doesn’t matter what you think about the CCW World Heavyweight Championship, because it will NEVER leave my presence! Not now . . . not at Night Of The Immortals . . . and not ever!”
More boos are heard as he pauses to inhale from a joint that has been lit by Heather St. Clair. He quickly exhales the smoke toward the ceiling, as he doesn’t want to stray away from the point he is attempting to make:
Violence: “I have beaten the best that Unleashed has been able to offer for the last 5 months, and there is no end in sight. It doesn’t matter who I face, because the outcome will always end up favoring the “X-Rated Superstar”; which is exactly why I have orchestrated this little beat down you have just witnessed. I did this to make a point . . . with the point being that the most dominant wrestler in CCW history stands before you now, and forever; and as that man, I am now calling all the shots. I’ve allowed management to steer me in whatever direction they’ve pleased for too long, now, and I am putting my foot down.
This slaughtering of CCW’s finest is a symbol; and I want each and every one of you to take a good, LONG look at the aftermath. This is to be expected for anyone who gets in my way . . . in our way . . . and as the man, I am refusing to appear on the February twenty fifth show, in Atlanta, Georgia. I am boycotting my contractual obligation to defend this Championship out of principle; with that principle being that I have absolutely NO WORTHY competition!”
More boos . . .
Violence: “So, CCW; unless you want your World Heavyweight Championship to mean something, I suggest you do something to my liking. ‘Cause no one man can ever stop “The Midwest Mauler ...”
Violence turns to stare down into Lance Leonard’s face and, remembering that Leonard had referenced him in his earlier promo, bends down to respond:
Violence: “... And THAT’S a fact!”
Violence then spikes the mat to the canvas, and gestures for St. Clair to once again hold the ropes open as so he and his crew may depart.
Suddenly...the lights dim and the titan tron flashes from red to stills of a wrestler delivering painful moves to other opponents. The final image is one of a red sky...and then the lights return to their former brightness and a man wearing a hooded black cotton trench coat strides swiftly down the ramp. Body Count get ready for the arrival inside the ring whilst he approaches the ring steps and jogs up them, entering through the middle rope.
Blood goes to attack but is downed straight away with a roaring elbow, and Machiavelli and Joker approach. Delivering right hands to both members of Body Count, the man then hits a roaring elbow on Joker and stomps Machiavelli in the corner. Sammael approaches him from the back and clubs hard over his upper dorsal, knocking him down to one knee. Violence grins as Sammael kicks the man stiffly in the midsection and drags him in between his knees to attempt a powerbomb. Lifting him high, it seems he is beaten, until he opens his coat in mid air and rips out a cricket bat from the seams, driving the end of the weapon into Sammael's skull!
JR: "By Gawd! By Gawd! Body Count has been demolished!"
Standing up from the wreckage of Sammael, the hooded man lifts the cricket bat high in the air and then drops it, staring at Violence. Lifting his two hands in the air he takes his hood down off his head, revealing the face of Thomas Richards. Violence runs forward, going for a big lariat, but swings high over Lion's head when the englishman ducks, turns round and jumps high to deliver a vicious gamengiri to the back of the head of Josh Violence!
JR: "Lion! Lion! Lion has downed the big man!"
Violence topples over and Lion stands looking out at the crowd. He is handed a microphone from Buffer and the crowd go wild.
Lion: "I've just been talking to my good friend Bret Hart backstage...Leonard, Hill...you both got a shot. To make it even, however, we've got one more contender to go in and shake things up a bit. That's yours truly."
The crowd pop.
Lion: "This Sunday-"
Machiavelli races toward Lion from the corner, but Lion kicks him in the midsection going on to complete the Leaving Avalon, crashing him on his head. He stands and picks up the microphone once more.
Lion: "The Lion takes back his pride!
Step into the Lion's Den, hear my roar!"
Lion exits the ring, leaving everyone decimated.
JR: "Names will be taken! Careers will be at risk! There will be one victor! One champion! One immortal! Ladies and Gentlemen, good night, we'll see you at Night of the Immortals!"
The CCW logo fades across the screen...
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