December 14th, 2001
"Giving In" by Adema is played over the pa system as the camera immediatly fades in from the IWO logo to the sold out arena. Fans are screaming, as the camera slowly rests on the announce team. A pretty standard opening to say the least, and like usual, Greg Parker and JT are absolutly pumped.
GP: If you're looking for great action, excellent drama and breath-taking suspense, you've come to the wrong place. We don't do any of that here because you know why? This is IWO Hostile Takeover and welcome to it!
JT: If there was only one show that you were able to watch in your entire lifetime, this wouldn't be it. We can't really live up to those high standards, but we're close enough. Matches galore, intrigue, and more all in this jam packed show.
GP: To mention a few, what a match we have for you tonight. A battle royal will take place right here live as well as Simon Seaman, yes IWO World Heavyweight Champion Simon Seaman defending his title against a man to be determined!
JT: And the Nobel prize goes to...
GP: That's science, you idiot.
JT: Parker, I'm sick of this. You obviously never heard of the term "Seamanology" because Simon Seaman used just that to show Matt Rivers, that good for nothing piece of garbage, that there is no way. When I mean
no way, I mean no way. No way that Matt Rivers is going to get under Simon's skin. Seamanology is the subject and Rivers just failed with flying colours.
GP: Do you work for Seaman?
JT: I don't work for him, Greg. I'd like to think of myself as a messenger of sorts spreading the good word to you, all these people in this arena and to all of you at home.
GP: It's going to be one hell of a show. We'll be right back right after...
Out of the blue, "Relax" by Powerman 5000 blasts through the speakers. The audience stands up in unison to catch a glimpse of the current world champion. A loud chorus of boos are accompanied with the gradual entrance of Simon Seaman. As red and blue strobe lights emanate from the entranceway, we see Simon saunter out decked in work boots, neon yellow overalls over a black T-shirt and a yellow hard hat. Surrounded by several members of arena security, he confidently walks down the ramp with the IWO World Title around his waist.
GP: The lost member of the Village People ladies and gentleman.
JT: How dare you say that. He's not wearing for show, he's wearing that for a reason.
GP: And what reason could that be?
JT: Do I look like a mind reader to you? Why don't you just wait and see, okay?
With security protecting him from the heckles and abuse of the audience at ringside, he swiftly makes his way over to the timekeeper's table. Speaking to the Meygon, the ring announcer, he points out to the fans and then
to her yelling at her face from behind his protection. Quickly grabbing the mic, she addresses the crowd as they continue to show their hatred for the champion.
Meygon: If I could have your attention please.
Pausing for a moment, she receives more instructions from the champ before continuing.
Meygon: Ladies and gentleman, would you please give a warm welcome to the undisputed IWO World Heavyweight Champion of the World...SIMON SEAMAN!
Handing the mic over to him, the crowd gets even rowdier trying to make him angry. As he motions to his security to step aside, they stand in front of the ring apron as he grabs the audience's attention. Standing in front of the broadcast table, he looks out into the crowd and begins.
JT: I can't believe this. When greatness speaks, you shouldn't even hear a pin drop, yet Simon is getting this attention. This is pathetic. Absolutely, positively pathetic.
Simon: I don't know why you people do what you do, but if you want to continue booing me, I'll wait because simply put, I'm not leaving here until you hear what I have to say.
GP: I suggest everyone should be quiet then.
JT: You damn right.
Simon: Before I get to the point of why I'm out here to greet all you fantastic individuals, I'd like to take a poll. You all love polls, don't you? Opinion polls, North Poles, flag poles, you love them all.
GP: North Poles? Flag Poles?
JT: Does it sound like he's stuttering or what? Deal with it.
Glancing at the ring apron a few times, he lies his belt on top of the announce table as he starts to speak up again.
JT: Right here is just fine, Mr. Seaman. I'll take good care of it, don't worry.
GP: It's a title, not a dog.
Simon: Who here liked what I did to Matt Rivers last week?
A chorus of boos fills the arena as Simon puts his hand up along with JT and the security at ringside. Nodding his head looking around him, noticing no one else put their hand up, he continues.
Simon: Who here thinks I'm going to get my ass handed to me by Matt Rivers, right here on Hostile Takeover?
Parker, along with just about everyone in the audience raises their hand. He accepts the overwhelming vote and rubs his chin while nodding his head in acceptance.
Simon: Now, to all you people who have their hand up, keep it up their for the rest of the show. Maybe you'll get some exercise for once. Don't even think about going to Subway. Sure the sandwiches might only have five
grams of fat, but you'll end up eating ten of them no doubt.
A couple of empty drink cups are thrown towards Simon's way by a few fans at ringside. Security attempts to walk up and block them, but Simon stops them in mid-step as he blocks them himself. Having absolutely no
effect on him, he talks.
Simon: Matt Rivers, I know what I did and I am truly sorry.
JT: You see there? He's sorry. What a stand-up guy.
Simon: I'm sorry that you weren't able to hold onto the love of your life. I'm sorry you didn't have movie star, good looks like I do. I'm sorry that Amanda Rivers realized how much of a loser you really were and dumped
you on live, national television. It's my bad, it's truly my bad.
The crowd starts up again, heckling Simon and yelling at him.
Simon: Shut up!
GP: I can't believe that this man is our world champion.
JT: I can't either. Isn't it great?!
Ignoring the conversation happening next to him, he looks down at the ground and at the ring apron again, which reads "IWO" in big, bold blue lettering and then puts his mic up to his mouth.
Simon: Matt, you should've have seen this coming, but did you? No, because you were oblivious. Oblivious to the fact that if you play with fire, you will be burnt. How many times do I have to tell you the truth and drill it into that tiny little brain of yours until you understand.
Pacing back and forth at ringside, he pauses, leaning on the broadcast table.
Simon: You have the right to come out here and attack me like I bet you want to do. Though you might think I don't want to fight you, right? Just because I have security protecting me. Is that it? Well if you think I'm trying to protect myself from you, you are wrong my friend. I don't have security guards out here to protect me, I have them out here to protect you from me.
GP: Oh, please.
Simon: For I know that I wouldn't want it to get out of hand if you came down here and tried to attack me. I might do something I might regret and Rivers, I really don't want to do that.
JT: Makes sense to me.
With fans sighing in disbelief at Simon's comments, he climbs up onto the broadcast table and decides to address them from there.
GP: What is he doing?
JT: Where did you put the damn welcome mat, Parker? We have a guest.
Simon: I feel sorry for you Matthew Rivers, so you know what I am going to do? At the biggest Pay-Per-View of the year, at Ice Age, in front of several millions of people all around the world, I'm going to give you this.
Looking down at his IWO Title on the announcer's table, he looks up and smirks, taking out of his pocket two tickets.
Simon: Tickets for you and a guest of your choice to see yours truly in action. I know this has been your dream to be in an Ice Age main event, but what better way to see it than in the front row. So here it is. All you have to do is come here and claim it. Congratulations Matt Rivers, you are going to Ice Age.
The crowd starts to boo him even more as he steps down from the announcer's table and walks over to the ring skirt, placing the tickets back in his pocket.
Simon: Anyway, Matt, come on over. I went through a lot of trouble to get you that, so I hope you got me something for Christmas. Maybe a carrying bag for this heavy title I've held since the beginning of time. Maybe
a car, I don't know. Surprise me.
Lifting the ring skirt up, he crouches down as he rolls out a large, square container into view. As the fans wonder what's going on, so do the announcers.
GP: What is he getting?
JT: It sort of looks like a tub. Many he's going to have a bubble bath on national television.
GP: I hope not.
Motioning to a few security members, they help him take out ten cans of blue paint from under the ring. Placing them near the large container, they also obtain a couple of brushes as well.
Simon: Now, let me get to what I really wanted to do. You see, I feel the IWO needs to be re-decorated you know. All this time, all I have seen is IWO this and IWO that. An IWO T-shirt and an IWO hat. An IWO dog and
an IWO cat. By the way, do you like that rhyme? I made that up myself.
Loud bursts of negative responses are heard from the crowd.
JT: My god, he's an award winning poet too?
GP: What makes him award winning anyway?
JT: He's Simon Seaman. Isn't that enough of an explanation?!
Simon: So for your enjoyment, I, Simon Seaman, your IWO World Champion, is going to use his artistic and architectural skills. That's why I'm wearing this hard hat, these stylish overalls, and all this great attire. This
is the new IWO, so why not make it new?
GP: Why do you need a hard hat to paint?
JT: You know. When the brush, well when the can, well when you paint...why should I tell you?
Opening up a can of blue paint, he pours it into the tub. With the help of security, they start emptying the remaining cans as well. Picking up a brush from the ground, he waves it in front of him searching for what
to paint first. Dipping the brush in the can of paint, he notices the IWO logo on the announce table and slowly paints an "S" over the "I" in the IWO logo. With a member of security placing the mic up to Simon's mouth, he continues to work.
GP: Seaman, what the hell are you doing?
JT: Somewhere in this world, Picasso is green with envy.
Simon: I've been the world champion for how long and no one has welcomed me with open arms, so you know what? The Internet Wrestling Organization is not the IWO anymore. As far as I'm concerned and as far as all of you are concerned, this is my company. Did you understand that? My company, so I'll tell you something. This is not the IWO, this is not the Internet Wrestling Organization. This is the Seaman Wrestling Organization.
I'm getting rid of anything IWO whether you like it or not.
Heckling him for what seems to be the millionth time, we notice in the background fans at ringside with IWO T-shirts to get him to come over there. Ignoring them, he notices the large IWO logo printed on the ring skirt and paints a large "S" for the second time.
GP: Simon can't change the IWO. This is ridiculous. Does he think he can just do this to the IWO?
JT: Don't you mean the SWO?
GP: Shut the hole in your face.
Handing brushes to other members of security, they start painting on the remaining sides of the ring apron as Simon places his brush inside of the large container, grabs his IWO title and places it around his waist. With the mic on the floor, he speaks into it again.
Simon: Welcome ladies and gentleman to the........S-W-O.
"Relax" by Powerman 5000 blares through the speakers. Placing the microphone on the announce table, he starts to wheel the tub off paint from ringside and up the ramp as the three security guards finish painting the ring skirt, they follow Simon up the ramp, leaving the audience as well as the announcers in confusion.
GP: He can't just change the name of a company with paint.
JT: For now he can. He's the champion, he can do whatever he wants.
Wheeling the container onto the entranceway and into the back, we see the rest of the security guards trailing behind him.
GP: Folks, we'll be back right after this. This is unbelievable.
JT: I'd be mad with you, Parker. I would. It's just that I'm too happy to be. Long live the SWO!
We fade backstage, returning from the commercial break, as we can see Rob Kestler, sitting on his chair, watching the latest episode of the Powder Puff Girls. He is still heaviliy bandaged from the burning he recieved last week. He seems to have a dumbfounded look on his face.
Rob Kestler: Derp?
The ackwardness of the Powder Puff Girls quickly changes, as bursting into the locker room is one AWS Man(Also Known as Bill). He's the weird guy with the mask that says freak alot? Yeah, I figured you might need help with that.
AWS Man(Also Known as Bill): ROB!
Kestler looks up to AWS Man(Also Known as Bill) and smiles. I mean, there was a time when AWS Man(Also Known as Bill) was Psycho Jay's lacky, and in turn made him friends with Kestler.
Rob Kestler: Moodoodle!
AWS Man(Also Known as Bill): Rob! I couldn't freakin' believe you lost the freakin' title last week!
Kestler looks around his locker room with a blank stare, as if he was looking for the title.
Rob Kestler: Well, help me find it then!
Kestler ducks down and begins to look into his gym bag. AWS Man(Also Known as Bill) goes to help, but is stopped by the images on the television.
AWS Man(Also Known as Bill): ... Freakin' cartoon porn?
AWS Man(Also Known as Bill) takes a seat in Kestler's chair, and continues to watch. He seems rather dissapointed that they Powder Puff Girls have yet to take their clothes off.
AWS Man(Also Known as Bill): Freakin' long plots! Get to the freakin' nude scenes!
Kestler looks up from his bag, as suddently, from behind, Evan Levine is shown nailing Kestler in the back of the head. AWS Man(Also Known as Bill) turns around, and gasps.
AWS Man(Also Known as Bill): You're interrupting PORN time?!?
Suddenly, Hash appears in view and clocks AWS Man(Also Known as Bill) with his extreme title. Evan Levine looks down, holding the US title in his hands.
Evan Levine: Were you looking for this Rob? Well, I'm sorry to say but it's here, in my hands! It's MINE ROB! MINE!
Evan throws in a couple of kicks for good measure, before both he and Hash leave.
GP: What a sinister attack!
Before Greg Parker and JT can really comment on anything, the scene quickly switches backstage, seeing none other than President Ford, signing a few documents. A knock is heard on the door, and Ford is rather astonished that someone has mannors on the IWO roster.
Thomas Ford: Come in...
A brief moment of silence, before the knocking is repeated once more.
Thomas Ford: I SAID come in!
The door opens wide, as we see Mad Max, the crazy man himself, wearing an IWO shirt that reads "Redundant" on the front. He has a smile on his face, as the crowd lets out cheers.
Mad Max: Redundant!
Thomas Ford: Okay Max, what are you doing here. We all know you're up to something.
Mad Max: Me? Well, all I want to know is why I'm not in that battle royal tonight! I mean, I really need the six dollars.
Ford sighs. He looks at Max, who returns Ford's blank stare with a serious expression. Max wasn't kidding, he seemed to really need the six dollars.
Thomas Ford: You're... kidding, aren't you?
Mad Max: Nope Tommy Boy. I need to finish my collection of Britney Spears photographs in Rolling Stone. That outfit she wears is not REDUNDANT!
Thomas Ford: Listen, Max, it seems to me you want to compete, but how about you compete in the boundaries of something larger.
Mad Max: Like playing baseball in a baseball fields? Bseball fields are larger...
Thomas Ford: ... No Max. I was thinking more of the lines of.... Simon Seaman versus Mad Max, heavyweight title on the line.
Mad Max: ... Hmmmm... Can I have still have the six dollars?
Thomas Ford: Sure... Sure.. Whatever. Just beat Seaman tonight, okay? Can you do that for me?
Mad Max: WOOH! SIX DOLLARS!
Thomas Ford reaches into his back pocket and hands Max six dollars, as bursting into the room is Sebastian Leifel, a new recruit that was able to pin Evan Levine a few weeks back.
Mad Max: I won't lose, but if I do, it'll be REDUNDANT!
Max goes to leave, but bumps into the oncoming Sebastian Leifel. Max backs off a little bit, as Leifel stares him down. Max leaves the office as Leifel walks up to Ford's desk.
Thomas Ford: What can I do for you Leifel?
Sebastian Leifel: What can you do? You can tell me why a man of my caliber is competing in a match for six dollars. Six dollars mind you, can barely buy you a dinner at a cheap family restraunt, let along pay for parking at a concert.
Thomas Ford: So, what exactly do you want?
Sebastian Leifel: I want Seaman...
Leifel gleems, smiling a mile wide. Ford just shakes his head...
Thomas Ford: I already gave the main event spot to Max, you'll have to wait your turn.
Sebastian Leifel: Max? Mr. Redundant? He hasn't done anything to deserve the shot, and he's a crazy wack-job! He doesn't deserve it!
Leifel slams his fist down onto the table. His smile has obviously faded, as he storms out of the office room. Ford just shakes his head again.
Thomas Ford: Damn curtain jerkers messing up my papers...
Ford begins to reshuffle as the fans let out a small cry. The camera then slowly switches view, back out into the arena. "American Psycho" by D12 abruptly blares over the system.
GP: Wait?...Isn't that Nuke's music?
JT: He's not scheduled to fight tonight is he? What the hell's he doing here?
GP: Well I guess we're about to find out.
Nuke takes his time strolling down to the ring, to a mixed reaction from the crowd. Either you love Nuke's demented brand of humor or you think he's deplorable. Either way he quiets the boos mixed in with the cheers with a raise of his hand, and begin speaking into the mic.
Nuke: I've really slacked off recently. I haven't showed up for shows, or done a promo in long while. Why? Simply put. I just don't give a fuck. I see no reason to really. Believe me I've tried to search for a reason to
care about IWO and wrestling in general, but I'm come up with none. I feel like I've just been coasting my whole career, just kinda going through the motions. Yeah, I won a few titles, but there was no real value in those wins, and it meant nothing to me when I lost. But I'm bored, and need something to do. So I'm gonna pretend for a while that I do give a fuck.
GP: Jesus, can he use that language?
JT: Fuck. I guess the motherfucker, fucking can.
GP: ...That wasn't necessary JT.
JT: Like fuck it wasn't.
Nuke: At Utter Obliteration, after I was done winning my North American Title, and having a little fun with Potright's new chick, Syphon Fission...
The fans pop. Nuke scoffs at them and continues.
Nuke: Whatever. Anyway, Fission decided to make a comeback, and roughed me up a bit. Being that I really didn't give a fuck, and can take a little beat down from fucker like Fission, I forgot about it. I blew it off. Said,
and did nothing. Tonight that changes.
Nuke motions toward the entrance ramp as "Dead Wrong" by Biggie Smalls hits, and his maniacal midget counterpart midget Nuke runs down the ramp to the ring.
GP: OH NO!!
The announcers and most of the crowd panics. But midget Nuke pulls out the long shiny object and hands it to Nuke, then leaves, while being chased by security.
Nuke: Relax. It's only a baseball bat.
JT: Oh...well...I knew that.
Nuke: Now that I'm getting into the habit of giving a fuck, I'm going to enact revenge on Fission for his little act.
"Last Time" by Fuel hits as the fans begin cheering, as 2 time former IWO World Champion, Syphon Fission walks out of the entrance. Fission, microphone in hand, just looks at Nuke and his midget counterpart. His face is essentially expressionless.
Syphon: Revenge huh? What revenge? You simply put had what has been coming to you since you set foot into this place. That's right...Bainkey. So...shut your little mouth...walk to the back...and hide your fucking head in shame.
JT: Oooooh! Fission went way back.
GP: I don't think Nuke likes being reminded of those early days.
Nuke shows a flash of anger, and flexes on Fission but collects himself and laughs off Syphon's insults as he begins to speak
Nuke: Bainkey huh? Heh. Cute. Reeeal cute, Syphie. But tell me...
Nuke says speaking in an eerily calm voice.
Nuke: How cute do you think you'll be once I'm done with you? Huh?
Syphon laughs at Nuke's idle threat, but Nuke adds...
Nuke: More importantly...how will Quinn look?
Syphon Fission, is sparked into action at the threats to his woman, and storms the ring. Nuke's prepared for him, aluminum bat in hand. But before the 2 can clash, IWO officials hold both man at bay.
Syphon: You don't touch my wife! YOU HEAR ME! You want a fight...you fight me...NOT HER! NUKE...YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?!
Syphon Fission is dragged back stage by officials as Nuke taunts him with the bat.
GP: Whoa! Nuke's looking to make this real personal. Syphon wasn't to happy about the threats made on his girlfriend.
JT: I wouldn't either. Especially when a sicko like Nuke make it. Boy this should be fun!
As we cut backstage, we see Simon, wheeling his big container of paint into the hallway, with several doors sporting the IWO logo, he picks up his brush and goes to work.
GP: My god, not again.
JT: You think he can get all of it done by the end of the night?
GP: I sure hope not.
Painting an "S" over the "I" of every IWO logo in the hallway, he is surrounded by security guards. Creeping up to the doors at the end of the hall, he takes his brush and paints over the logos on the doors as well.
JT: Doesn't this remind of of "This Old House".
GP: Just don't even speak to me. Don't talk to me.
Hearing the slam of the door in the background, Simon looks around and panics. Throwing his brush back into the large tub of blue paint, he speaks with the security guards surrounding him.
Simon: This way. Follow me.
Wheeling the container back up the hallway, he turns left, followed by several members of security.
GP: It looks like he has an entourage.
JT: Why not? Rappers have them, movie stars have them, so can Simon.
GP: I just hope he loses his entourage inside his bloated ego, while we head to a commercial break!
The cameras return from the commercial break to reveal the arena. Meygon stands inside the ring, and awaits the start of the matchup. Slowly, some neutral music, such as "Gone" by Pulley begins to play over the pa system.
GP: And it's time now for the battle royal. It's been highly anticipated, by all but the competitors. I mean, even Mad Max wanted to be apart of it earlier tonight!
JT: Then again, Max isn't exactly too sly of a character, now is he Parker?
One by one the men inside the battle royal make their way out, each with something on their mind, each with a goal set in mind. Sure, not many people care about six dollars, but a win here could really up their status in the ranks of the IWO. Schitzo Tod, Erik Blake, Ben O'Connor making his television re-debut. Tanc Tancock, the recent addition, as well as the Suicide Kings, a disgruntled Sebastian Leifel, Sam Potright, and numerous more. As all the men enter the ring, and clutter things up, Meygon begins to speak.
Meygon: This next matchup is an over the top rope battle royal! *Cheers* The winner shall recieve... six dollars? Whatever. Introducing, AWS Man(Also Known as Bill), Matt Rivers, Schitzo Tod, Erik Blake, Nuke, Harold Hash, Ben O'Connor, Thunder, Rob Kestler, Evan Levine, Sam Potright, Sebastian Leifel, Mike Marchese, Syphon Fission, Bryan Fury, Hot Butter, Tanc Tancock, Jack Breaker, Rodeo Daniels, Diablo, Edguardo, Jeff and Ryan King!
Meygon immediatly clears out of the ring, and the men immediatly begin to give blows to one another, shots as the bell rings.
*Ding, ding, ding*
GP: Well, things are quickly underway here, and wait... where the hell is Nuke?
JT:I'm not sure exactly, but he's not in the ring.
People begin to pair off, Rob Kestler and Evan Levine begin to brawl dating back to Levine stealing the United States title last week. AWS Man(Also Known as Bill) and Harold Hash immediatly rekindle their feud, trading blows, as Syphon Fission begins to look around for Nuke, the man who said he had plans for him later in the evening.
Sam Potright immediatly walked over to fellow crusier weight Tanc Tancock, but Tanc backed off, trying to avoid a confrontation it seemed. Potright had none of it, pushing Tanc to the corner, and trying to get a quick elimination. Tanc however, was able to hold onto the ropes.
Matt Rivers looked around at the carnage inside the ring, and realized that there was a serious chance of him being hurt before Ice Age... it also seemed like his mind was distant, and it came to a quick hault when Schitzo Tod came out of nowhere and clotheslined him up and over the top.
GP: RIVERS WAS DAZED! Rivers wasn't in the game mentally, and Tod made him pay for it.
Meygon: Eliminated, Matt Rivers!
Rivers slowly began to walk up the ring entrance ramp, as "American Psycho" by D12 hit the pa system. The fans began to show their disproval, as Nuke slowly began to make his gradual way to the ring. Nuke however, meant up face to face with Matt Rivers, neither man backing down in the middle of the rampway.
GP: Nuke and Rivers? Is there problems there?
JT: I think Nuke is just pissed off and doesn't need some punk kid like Rivers in his way...
Rivers turns to head back up the entrance rampway, bumping Nuke's shoulder as he goes. Nuke takes exception, and turns Rivers back around, before kicking him in the gut, and driving him into the mat with Burning Psychosis(Double Underhook piledriver). Nuke got up to his feet, and looked at his carnage, before he returned his way to the announce position.
Inside the ring, Bryan Fury and Thunder paired off, battling one another in the corner, and trying to eliminate one another.
Nuke walked over to where Meygon was sitting, and tosses a man in a chair out and down to the floor. The fans booed, but yet, some cheered. They knew what was coming next.
GP: Get that chair away from him! This is a battle royal, not a hardcore match!
Nuke slides into the ring, chair in hand, as he looks over to the corner, and swings the chair massively at Sam Potright's back, sending him tumbling up and over the top rope. Potright had been stomping away at Tanc Tancock, and didn't realize what was going on behind him.
Meygon: Eliminated, Sam Potright!
Tanc Tancock got back to his feet, slowly, and dusted himself off. He extended his hand to Nuke, who seemingly had helped him...
... Only to recieve a stiff chair shot to his skull as well. Tanc went flying over the top rope, and another elimination was recorded.
Meygon: Eliminated, Tanc Tancock!
JT: Hehe, she said Cock.
Parker just sighs, as Nuke walks over, seeing Fury and Thunder battling with right hands. They seemed to be in a collar and elbow now, as Nuke eyed his shot, and in one fatal swing, knocked both Fury and Thunder up and over the top, down to the outside.
Meygon: Eliminated, Thunder and Bryan Fury!
GP: Nuke is clearing house WITH AN ILLEGAL WEAPON!
Nuke was abruptly stopped now, by Syphon Fission, who had been able to fight his way away from Ben O'Connor, and immediatly turned his attention to Nuke. Nuke charged Fission, but Fission was able to duck the chair shot, and speared Nuke to the mat. Immediatly followed up with vicious right hands to Nuke's head.
Jack Breaker and Rodeo Daniels begin to try to work as a team, which doesn't seem to have too much of a success. Jeff King is able to duck underneath a superkick, which caught the holding Jack Breaker in the face, and sent him tumbling out.
Meygon: Eliminated, Jack Breaker!
Rodeo Daniels didn't seem to really care, shrugging it off, but then, shades of the Midnight Express were shown as Jeff and Ryan King double dropkicked the turning around Daniels in the face, sending him up and over.
Meygon: Eliminated, Rodeo Daniels!
GP: You know, it seems like it's even hard to comment on this!
Jeff and Ryan King got up from their elimination, and began to celebrate in the ring. Ryan King however, is suddenly grabbed from behind by Diablo, and sent Flying over the top to the outside. Jeff King turns around to gain himself, as Enguardo is there to pick him up, as Those Damned Mexicans nail the MDD, or the Mexican Death Drop. The fans let out a pop, as Jeff King is picked up, and thrown up and over the top down onto Ryan King.
Meygon: Eliminated, Jeff and Ryan King!
The camera switches over, as we see Harold Hash and AWS Man(Also Known as Bill) battling. Hash seems to be realing, as suddently, the Nude races out from the back. The Nude walks over, and grabs Pen, trying to throw it to AWS Man(also Known as Bill). He catches it, and then tries to throw it at Hash, who was dazed and groggy. Hash however, is able to catch it, which shocks AWS Man(Also Known as Bill). Well, it would be better detailed if you could see through his mask at least.
Then, Hash, from his ropes, tosses Pen at AWS Man(also Known as Bill), sending him realing all the way across the ring in a total oversell, and up and over the opposite side's top rope.
Meygon: Eliminated, AWS Man(Also Known as Bill)!
Hash stands there, proud of his accomplishment, as he immediatly goes to his newfound friend Evan Levine to help him.
However, Schitzo Tod is there to stop him, as he takes him down with a high cresant kick.
Mike Marchese stands in the ring, and wonders where he is. Then, Hot Butter, another new recruit, tosses him up and over the top rope. Now he's not in the ring, and he's happy.
Meygon: Eliminated, Mike Marchese!
Sebastian Leifel has been battling it out for the majority of the match with Erik Blake and Ben O'Connor, a three way battle with fists, when suddenly Mad Max walks out from the back, holding something in his hands.
GP: It's Max! Look at that ovation!
JT: What the hell is HE doing out here?
Max walks up towards the ring, and taps Sebastian Leifel on the shoulder. Sebastian turns around, as Max holds up a picture, out of Rolling Stone, of Britney Spears. Sebastian is obviously confused, when Ben O'Connor takes advantage, and kicks Leifel up and over the top rope!
Meygon: Eliminated, Sebastian Leifel!
Leifel gets up on the outside as he begins to push Max, as they get into a small skirmish on the outside. Officials flock to break it up.
Inside the ring, Fission and Nuke have started a small war, Tod and Hash, Levine and Kestler, Erik Blake and Ben O'Connor, as Hot Butter and Those Damned Mexicans look on.
Those Damned Mexicans see an opening to attack, as suddenly, they both charge, double clotheslining both Evan Levine and Rob Kestler up and over the top rope. They each raise their hands in victory, but Harold Hash is able to grab them from behind and toss them out as well, in a sort of retribuition act.
Meygon: Eliminated, Rob Kestler, Evan Levine, and Those Damned Mexicans!
Hash lowers himself, making it harder to be thrown out, as Hot Butter looks around to figure out what to do. Taking from Those Damned Mexican's lead, he looked over to the battling Erik Blake and Ben O'Connor, and charges, lowering his body, and using his weight to lift both Erik Blake and Ben O'Connor up and over the top.
Meygon: Eliminated, Ben O'Connor and Erik Blake.
On the outside, Blake and O'Connor begin to yell at each other at their double elimination, and begin to blame one another. They then instinctively go to blows.
On the inside, only five people remain, as Nuke and Syphon are battling. Syphon has Nuke realing, locking him in the Death Penalty, near the ropes. He looks to have Nuke in prime position, but then Nuke lifts his body, and back body drops Syphon up and over the top to the outside!
Meygon: Eliminated, Syphon Fission!
Syphon begins to get extremely angry on the outside, slamming his hands against the mat, as Nuke stands inside, devilishly smiling. Then, from behind, Schitzo Tod is able to shove Nuke up and over, down onto Fission on the outside. Tod quickly, and smartly, turns around to focus the final three.
Meygon: Eliminated, Nuke!
Hash, Tod, and Hot Butter stare each other down, each looking at one another. It seems as if the logical choice would be for Tod to charge at Hash, mainly because of Hash's current situation with Tod's friend AWS Man(Also Known as Bill). However, Hash looks at Hot Butter, and Tod sort of acknowledges it, as best he can. They both attack Hot Butter.
GP: I guess the size element of Hot Butter is really playing into factor here.
Hash and Tod immediatly attack with a few right hands, as they send Hot Butter off the ropes. Back off the other side, Hash and Tod go for a double Clothesline, but Hot Butter breaks through and shoulder blocks Tod down to the mat. Hash then goes downstairs, doubling over Hot Butter in pain, dropping to the mat. Harold Hash then slowly climbs up to the top rope...
*Opens Hash's Bio, copy*
This is a long name for a move that isn't all to impressive but i like cause I am like that, and if you don't like it you can suck on my toes till your nads fall off and smack you in the face...BWAHAHAHAHAHA, okay this is a really long name for a damn move, and it isn't all to descriptive and I know noone will ever call it that but I don't care, we are getting back to cause I am like that too, oh yeah this really isn't correct grammar. Barq's is the best Root Beer of all kind.
*Closes Hash's Bio*
And Hot Butter sort of stammers up to his feet, and falls up and over the top rope.
Meygon: Eliminated, Hot Butter!
GP: It's down to the final two! Schitzo Tod and Harold Hash! One on one, for six dollars!
Tod immediatly grabs Hash up from the mat and begins to hammer him in the back of his head with a couple of stiff elbow shots. Tod was able to get the advantage, because not only does Hash's move require lungs the size of jupiter to say, it stunned him for a brief moment. Hash races out off the other side, and Tod is able to kick Hash in the Shin, nailing his TAM move. The fans mark out, as Hash stumbles down to his knees. Tod then picks Hash up, and drives him into the mat with the Hari Kari. The fans let out a cry of approval.
And then, slowly, out from the back walks Joey Rappoport, giving the fans something even more to cheer about. Tod turns his attention however, and seems confused, distracted to say the least. And of course, Hash has enough time to recover and throw him out. Let's make a sad face for Tod :-(
Meygon: Eliminated, Schitzo Tod! Your winner, HAROLD HASH!
"Hacksaw Decapitation" by Cannibal Corpse comes over the pa system, as Hash walks out of the ring. He grabs his Extreme title, and holds it up for all to see, before we head to a commercial Break.
Oh yeah, he's given his six bucks too.
The camera returns from a commercial break, as we see Greg Parker and JT at their announce position.
GP: Welcome back fans to Hostile Takeover. It's been one hell of an evening so far, and I'm only sure the IWO will continue on it's rampage.....
JT: That's SWO Greggy...
GP Lets out a sigh, before "Loco" by Coal Chamber comes over the pa system. The fans let out a cry of adoration, as fireworks spray out from the entrance ramp. Slowly, out from the back walks High Flyer, dragging the crusier weight championship behind him as he enters the arena. The fans let out a cry of approval, as he raises his hands, and the title for a picture perfect pose. Slowly, Flyer begins to make his way to the ring, before, of course entering, and grabbing a microphone.
High Flyer: You know, I never asked to be back. I never asked to be handed a championship, a worthless, meaningless belt commemorating the achievements of a two hundred twenty five pound light weight. I never wanted to be like all the other IWO superstars, returning back to their "glory days," just because I was bored. Just because I was suckered back.
Flyer paused, and took a deep breath.
High Flyer: So, I was thinking, that if the IWO wants to hand me a championship, wants to force me out of retirement, fine, so be it. But it WILL be under MY terms.
The fans let out a cheer, as Flyer raises the championship up over his shoulder, adjusting it so it doesn't fall.
High Flyer: Now, they aren't too much, they aren't anything ludacris, or insane. They are actually rather reasonable. At least, in my eyes.
Flyer lets out a smile, one of the first times he's smiled in a long long time it seemed. At least, since he was forced back by Thomas Ford and the IWO Executive Staff.
High Flyer: So, today, I make an announcement, whether I have the blessing of the IWO Executive staff or not. They obviously didn't have my blessing when they made me a champion, so I feel that this is one thing they can't really back down on. They broke my contract, so, I'll run a few things my way from now on.
Flyer pauses once again, and breathes in, readying himself.
High Flyer: Ice Age four, the pinnacle of our industry, of our company, will not only host probably an epic encounter between Simon Seaman and Matt Rivers. I won't only have Evan Levine and Harold Hash battle Rob Kestler and AWS Man(Also Known as Bill), but I will be defending my Crusier Weight Championship. Now, that's not saying too much a big deal, and you're probably asking yourself, "What exactly doesn't the board like about this idea, I mean, they DID give him the title and all." Well, you're all right, but they aren't sure who's going to be showing up at Ice Age.
The fans let out a weird gasp, more like a silence.
High Flyer: At Ice Age, I am issuing an open challenge, no, more like, an open invitation. An invitation to the best crusier weights in the world to attend, to wrestle for the IWO Championship, and ten thousand of my own dollars. I am offering ten thousand dollars to the winner, an IWO contract if they so choose, and a place in the record books if they do win, and in return, I ask of nothing. Just show up, fight, no restrictions, no holds barred, just a good old battle royal. Whoever's left standing at the end, will be the victor.
It still seems rather quiet, not exactly sure of how to take it in. They know it will really be bomb or bust, so it's a rather odd situation and idea.
High Flyer: Oh yeah, might I add, I've already talked to one person, and she's more than happy to obligue...
GP: She? She?!? Who's she?
JT: I don't care but if she's naked I'll become a High Flyer fan again!
High Flyer: ... I'll see you on the 29th Tempest.... and let the best reign supreme.
"Loco" by Coal Chamber blasts over the pa system as the fans let out a scream of shock and approval. Flyer slowly begins his quiet, slow walk up to the backstage area, before turning around to raise the Crusier Weight Championship to the crowd in one final motion.
GP: TEMPEST?!? The fWo Crusier Weight Champion will be involved in a match with the IWO Crusier Weight Champion?
JT: ARE YOU SURE YOU CAN SAY THAT ON AIR!?!?
GP: I don't think it matters.
The camera fades backstage, as we enter the office of Thomas Ford. He seems visably upset, to say the least. He seems to be steaming, sitting there, focus, his mind angry, and yet calmed at the same time...
Backstage, we see Matt Rivers, with equipment bag in hand walking through the hallways. As the fans cheer at the mere sight of him, he makes his way over to the dressing room and notices "SWO" written on the door. Scratching his head, he shirts his bag over to the other side of his body and slowly opens the door.
JT: Typical. Matt Rivers shows up late.
GP: Simon is one lucky bastard. He has the best timing I've ever seen.
Opening the door, he flips on the light and notices SWO painted all over the dressing room. On the ceiling, on the walls, the whole room is covered is with them. Walking up to the wall, he looks down at the ground quietly
and then stares at his surroundings. Suddenly slamming his bag against the ground, he storms out of the dressing room, slamming the door behind him. The camera then zooms on the SWO logo showed proudly on the door.
GP: Where is Matt Rivers going?
JT: Maybe he's going to commend Simon on doing such a great job with everything. Look how legible he paints. It's amazing.
GP: You can never stop talking, can you?
JT: No, not really, but hey, let's get to Syphon Fission and Ryan King!
GP: Well this match isn't on card, and King already fought in a battle royale, making this completely unfair, and so UNNECESSARY! There is NO reason for this match to be held! NONE!!
JT: Oh just shut up and go with the flow Greg. Geez, why do you have to be such a stick in the mud.
GP: ...You're supposed to say that with dashes.
JT: Oh. Stick-in-the-mud.
GP: That's better.
"Between Angles and Insects" by Poppa Roach plays as one-half of the IWO Tag Team legends Ryan King of the "Suicide Kings" makes his way to the ring.
Just as King eases his way under the ropes into the ring, "Last Time" by Fuel hits while Syphon Fission makes a second appearance in Hostile Takeover. He slowly walks down to the ring with an odd look on his face.
JT: He look's kinda looks confused.
GP: I would too, if I was randomly booked in an impromptu match, for NO REASON WHATSOEVER!
JT: Jesus Christ! Would you chill out with that!
Syphon Fission finally enters the ring.
The match starts off a bit slow, with both men circling and jockeying for position. Ryan King finally lunges at Fission, and the two lock up. King whips Fission into the ropes, and looks for a clothesline but Fission ducks,
and drops him with a neckbreaker, and goes for a quick pin, but only gets a 1 count.
Fission grabs King from behind, but King breaks free from Syphon Fission's grasp by backing him up into the turnbuckle. King spins around and nails Syphon Fission with a superkick. Syphon Fission falls to the ground. King lifts him back up and grabs him from behind.
King is about to suplex him, but Syphon wriggles free, and ends up behind Ryan King, and dump him over with a release german suplex. Ryan King gets back up to his feet, clutching his back gingerly, as Syphon charges in
with a clothesline.
King however is able to drop toe hold Syphon Fission sending him crashing face first into the canvas. King goes for a quick cover.
Kick out, by Syphon Fission. King goes for a back to back quick cover, but Syphon Fission shoves him off. Both men are to there feet. Fission strikes first with a stiff right to the jaw of Ryan King that sends him reeling.
Syphon Fission quickly follows up with a devastating powerslam, which shakes the entire ring. Syphon Fission is about to go for a cover when...
"American Psycho" by D12 hits the PA.
GP: That's Nuke's music!!
JT: I'm pretty sure we established that early on today.
Syphon Fission shoots back up and shoots a glare toward the entrance way...
No one there.
Syphon Fission then scours the crowd expecting Nuke to jump out at any moment and attack him from behind. But still...
No one there.
GP: Well, Nuke did say he'd get his revenge on Syphon Fission. We could see it happen right here right now.
JT: Yeah, but what's taking him so long?
Syphon Fission still stands alert, expecting Nuke to attack, but no such attack occurred. Meanwhile, Ryan King sneaks up behind Fission and rolls up him for a surprise pin.
GP: It's over already! King takes advantage of the distracted Syphon Fission, and capitalizes with a win.
JT: Damn. We didn't even get to make any commentary that match!
Syphon Fission rises to his feet, realizing what's just occurred, and how Nuke planned it. Syphon Fission was a little more than upset as he stormed back stage.
GP: What type of mind games is Nuke playing here.
JT: I dunno? Why the fuck are you asking me?
GP: Because it's my job, and it's my job also to inform you all that a commercial break is up next! Stay tuned!
The camera opens up in Syphon Fission's locker room. Syphon Fission is still visibly upset at losing the last match due to Nuke's cleverly orchestrated distraction. He paces back and forth, while Quinn sits quietly on a locker room bench attempting to calm him down.
Syphon Fission: *as he slams his fist into the wall* Damn!
Quinn: Calm down honey. It isn't that bad.
Syphon Fission: That dipshit's toying with me.
Quinn: It doesn't matter. It was a match that meant nothing, you gain or lose nothing from it. Just calm down. Forget about Nuke.
Syphon Fission: Forget? Forget!? Did you hear him? I don't care if someone threatens me. I can deal with that. But when they for no reason promise to inflict physical harm on you...
Syphon Fission trials off, as he clenches his fist together tightly and attempts to collect himself.
Quinn: I know...that's why I want you to forget about this.
Syphon Fission: What? Never!
Quinn: I don't like him Rashard. He's...psycho.
Syphon Fission: Oh please. Who in IWO isn't?
Quinn: Yeah but...I don't know. I don't think I like where this could be heading.
Syphon Fission: Me neither baby. But Nuke needs to pay. No one toys with me. Nuke's out of line here Quinn, I won't let that slide. He needs to be stopped. And now, before he does anything to you. Imagine what he's plotting, or thinking. Hell the sickfuck's probably watching us right now.
Syphon Fission notices the cameraman in his locker room capturing all of this. He small smirk forms, undetectable to the camera as he's just been struck with innovation. He hides this quite well however, as he sets his plan into motion.
Syphon Fission: I'm gonna go get that bastard right now. I want you to stay right here Quinn.
Quinn: But I thought we were leaving now?
Syphon Fission: *under his breath* Play along. I have it under control.
Quinn: *whispers back* Ok. If you say so.
Syphon Fission then walks in front of the cameraman, and stares directly into the lens with a glint of anger in his eyes.
Syphon Fission: This is to you Nuke. If you're watching. I'm coming. I hope you're ready.
Syphon Fission then punches the camera. The view drops to the locker room floor, and goes to snow.
Meygon: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the IWO Extreme championship!
GP: Impromptu matchup here. Jack Breaker's pretty out of his element in this singles match, but let's see how he fares against our extreme champ.
Meygon: Making his way to the ring first, from New Orleans, Louisiana, accomanied by Aubrey Breaker, he weighs in at 242 pounds, and is a two-time former Tag Champion, please welcome Jack Breaker!
"Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin hits as Jack and Aubrey step out onto the stage to a fair pop. They pose for the fans for a moment, then run to the ring and pose on the turnbuckles.
JT: Is it just me, or does Jack have a new entrance theme every week?
Meygon: Making his way to the ring next, from Raleigh, North Carolina, accompanied by Pen, he weighs in at 235 pounds, and is the IWO Extreme champion, Harold Hash!
"Hacksaw Decapitation" by Cannibal Corpse hits as Harold Hash runs out, Extreme belt raised high over his head. He runs down to the ring and hands the belt to the ref as the bell sounds.
*DING DING DING*
GP: This matchup is underway!
Harold goes to start off with a collar-and-elbow lockup, but Jack immediately takes to him with a flurry of punches. Harold hits the mat, and Jack lands a few kicks to his ribs before going to the top rope and landing a kneedrop.
GP: Well, this is a side of Jack Breaker we don't usually see. Very unorthodox approach, for him.
Harold is back on his feet in the ring, but Jack quickly takes him down with a leg sweep. With Harold in a sitting position, Jack backs up to the opposite corner and attempts a handspring flip missile dropkick, which Harold narrowly avoids. Jack collides with the ropes, and Harold tries to take advantage by grabbing him by the hair and strangling him in the ropes. While Jack kicks and squirms to get out, Harold slides out of the ring and gets a folding chair, which he brings down hard on Jack's head, still tangled in the ropes. With a final kick, Jack manages to pull his head out from between the ropes, sporting a large gash across his forehead. Harold swings again with the chair, and Jack goes down. Harold takes to the top rope and lands a split-legged moonsault. He goes for a quick cover, but Jack kicks out at two. He and Harold lock up again, and this time Harold takes the advantage with a snapmare and follows it up with an elbow drop to Jack's sternum. He picks Jack up and locks in a front facelock, but Jack punches him in the ribs and DDTs him. Jack whips Harold into the ropes. Harold rebounds, ducks under Jack's outstreched arm, and continues into the opposite ropes. He charges with a clothesline on Jack, but Jack ducks and hits a swinging neckbreaker. Harold goes down as Jack stretches his knee out and catches him in a backbreaker. He covers.
Harold kicks out after two. Jack takes him down again with a standing dropkick then goes out to ringside to find a weapon. As he searches under the ring, Harold hits him with a baseball slide. Jack flies backwards and smacks into the crowd barrier. Harold slides out after him and grabs a chair. He takes into Jack with it, untill Jack manages to get his own chair up to protect himself. Harold swings again and the two chairs collide, creating a resounding crack. Harold stumbles backwards, stunned, and Jack goes on the offensive, taking Harold down with the chair. Harold drops to the ground, and Jack slides him into the ring and whips him into the corner. He jumps up onto the turnbuckle and, after signalling to the fans, hits the Heartbreaker (450 Blockbuster) on Harold. As Harold hits the mat, Jack lifts him up in a Clockwork DDT (Standing Tornado DDT). He covers.
GP: Looks like Jack has this... wait a minute, what's this?
"Black Dog" by Led Zeppelin hits and Rodeo runs to the ring with a baseball bat.
Rodeo runs into the ring and breaks up the pin with the baseball bat. Jack gets to his feet immediately, questioning Rodeo. Rodeo shoves Jack. Jack retaliates, but Rodeo quickly snaps in a front facelock and hits a Cactus Suplex on Jack. He stares down in disgust at Jack, then exits the ring to "Black Dog". Aubrey helps Jack to his feet as we fade to a commercial for Ice Age.
GP: As we wait for the next match to take place, let's talk about something, shall we?
From the curtain emerges Simon Seaman once again. With a brush in hand and his tub of blue paint, he is handed a ladder by one of his security guards. As he props up the ladder on the entrance, he points to the IWO logo displayed just under the IWOTron. As another hands him the mic, he addresses the audience, talking over the negative reaction.
GP: Oh no, not again. He's like the house-guest that never leaves.
Simon: Sorry to interrupt the show once again, but I'd like for you to shift your attention over this IWO logo. I will only be a second, but I just wanted to show you that I'm going to change this as well. So whoever is handling the controls in the back, I need some working music. Hit it maestro.
Handing the microphone back to the security, he starts to climb up the ladder. With "The Sign" by Ace of Base playing loudly, Simon starts head-banging to it on the ladder while he paints a large "S". The fans moan in unison as the song continues to play.
GP: Someone stop that music now! My god! Nails on a chalkboard! Nails on a friggin' chalkboard! Take me now! Take me into the heavens!
JT: Can I just say something right now? Can I?
GP: What is it?
JT: Ace of Base rules all.
With the "S" finished, Simon climbs down the ladder, folds it up, and hands it over to the security guards continuing to move his head to the music. As he wheels the container backstage, he's accompanied by the members of the security as the music mercifully stops. The fans pop loudly as it ends, but Simon stops in mid stride. Grabbing the microphone again, he runs out and raises his voice.
Simon: I didn't stay stop.
Grinning, the music is continued as several fans cover their ears. Finally, as he leaves, it comes to a halt.
GP: That was worse than hell.
JT: True. In hell, you get free party straws.
GP: I can't believe you get paid to say that.
JT: I'd rather not think about it. I might feel guilty afterwards.
The cameras fade in, to Nuke walking the IWO locker room corridors. He's carrying a black duffel bag with him, and wearing an ambiguous grin on his face. From the looks of things, one would not be able to tell what his intensions are. But knowing Nuke, one things for sure. They aren't good.
Nuke continues walking along at a leisurely pace then stops abruptly in front of one of the locker room doors. Syphon Fission's locker room. He sets the duffle bag on the floor and pulls out a shiny aluminum baseball bat he's been carrying around as of late.
He kicks in the door...
No one's there.
Nuke: What the fuck? I'm positive Fission told that bitch to stay in the locker room. Where is she hiding?
Nuke scans the room with his eyes seeing no place were Quinn could've hid. He lets the bat rest on his shoulder as he walks around the locker room searching for Quinn.
Nuke: Oh com'on Quinn. This isn't nice. All I want to do is play a little home run derby with you forehead. Is that too much to ask?
He gets no response, and becomes a bit frustrated. He then notices a piece of paper on a table in the locker room. He picks it up also noticing it has something written on it. Nuke reads it to himself.
Nuke: *reading the note* Maybe reading this wasn't the greatest idea. *talking to himself* What the fu-
Just then, Syphon Fission swoops in and slams the spade and of a shovel into the back of Nuke's head. Nuke drops like a bag of bricks, clutching the back of his head in pain and looking up at Syphon Fission, who hovers over him triumphantly.
Syphon Fission: Did you really think I'd leave Quinn all by herself idiot!
Fission comes down with the shovel again, but Nuke barely rolls out of the way. Nuke quickly grabs the aluminum baseball bat, and as Fission rears back for another blow with the shovel, Nuke leaps to his feet swinging the bat in the process connecting with Fission's face. There is a small burst of crimson as Fission drops to the floor.
Nuke stares at the barrel of his bat, with spots of red on it. The door opens and Quinn walks in. Not seeing what was happening at first.
Quinn: Honey, are you done beating him on Nuke yet? Wha?
Quinn gasps in fear when she sees Nuke standing in the locker room with the aluminum bat.
Nuke: Well...as you can see. Things...got out of hand.
Quinn's attention is diverted from Nuke to Syphon Fission, who his on his hands and knees trying to regain his ball bears from that baseball bat shot from Nuke. Quinn rushes to her boyfriends side.
Quinn: My god Rashard. What happened. You were supposed to...
Syphon Fission shoves her out of the way as Nuke comes down with the aluminum bat once more, narrowly missing Quinn and Fission's shoulder takes the brunt of the blow. Syphon Fission goes down again. Nuke turns back to Quinn, and begins to advance on her. She back petals as Nuke comes closer.
Nuke: Now. Like I was saying earlier in the show. How would your face look after a few intimate moments with this aluminum bat?
Nuke goes closer still, but is tackled from behind by Syphon Fission. Nuke crashes into the wall. Fission continues the assault pounding Nuke's kidneys with punches to the back. Fission then rips Nuke to his feet and whips him into a locker. Nuke hits the locker, and crumbles to the ground.
Syphon Fission keeps on the attack stomping away at the downed Nuke. Nuke lies on the ground beaten and dazed.
Syphon Fission: You wanted to fuck with me! Fuck with my girl! FUCK YOU!
Syphon Fission kicks him once more in the ribs, and reaches over the top of the heavy locker and TOPPLES IT ONTO NUKE. Nuke lets out a scream of pain, and EMT's and IWO officials rush into the locker room, a bit to late for Nuke however, and pulls the locker off of him. As the cameraman recording all of this is ushered out of the room.
The camera fades back into the locker room area for one final time, as we see Joey Rappoport, lacing up his boots. He seems ready to square off against HIT, but instead, Schitzo Tod walks into his locker room.
Schitzo Tod: Hey Joey! What was that all about anyway? That wasn't very nice.
Joey Rappoport: Neither was last week there Tod. I'm just paying back a few favors.
Schitzo Tod:Favors huh? Well, how about THIS!
Tod begins to contort his face, as Rappoport just sort of brushes him off. All of a sudden, he begins to spasitcally do the macarana.
Joey Rappoport: What the hell is this!
Schitzo Tod: Never mess with MY powers!
Tod leaves, as Joey Rappoport is left to do the Macarana over and over in his locker room. It's a sad sad sight :-( Oh yeah, while doing the Macarana, HIT falls over and is pinned in the locker room. Don't ask why or how.
GP: Folks, we are just moments away from what is sure to be quite an interesting match-up. Tonight, right here live on Hostile Takeover, Simon Seaman, the paint artist himself puts gold on the line in the main event. It's Simon Seaman versus Mad Max with the IWO World Heavyweight Championship up for grabs.
JT: If I could correct you and I will, it's the SWO World Heavyweight Championship. Might I remind you that this is the Seaman Wrestling Organization. You see all around you. This is not the IWO anymore. This is the SWO and I couldn't be any happier.
GP: Nevertheless, whatever you want to call this company. IWO, SWO, WWO, OOO, III, it doesn't matter. Because right about now, we're going to the ring!
As the crowd awaits the entrances of the competitors, the camera zooms in on ring announcer Meygon, talking into the microphone.
Meygon: This next match is for the IWO World Heavyweight Championship!
The audience erupts in applause and cheers as she continues.
JT: It's SWO, Meygon. Someone should fire that woman. Anyone can do her job.
GP: So you're saying you can be a woman?
As Mad Max's music plays, he emerges from the back and makes his way down to the ring with a suprisingly positive response.
Meygon: First the challenger, ladies and gentleman...this is...MAD MAX!
Walking down to ringside, he pauses to look at the ring and then proceeds to slowly walk up the steel steps and into the squared circle. With a determined look on his face, Mad Max bounces off a couple sets of ropes before settling into the middle of the ring. Then suddenly, the remaining fans not standing in the arena do so, awaiting the arrival of the champion. Booing horrendously, they prepare for Simon Seaman's entrance. Cutting Mad
Max's theme, "Relax" by Powerman 5000 blares through the speakers. Accompanied with blue and red strobe lights emanating from the entranceway. Strolling out with his wrestling attire on and the world title presented
proudly around his waist, the champ emerges to a loud, negative reaction. Turning around to look up at the IWOTron, he raises his hands up in triumph staring at himself on the screen, then turns back around and walks down to the ring.
Meygon: Hailing from the city of angels, standing six feet, one inch tall and weighing in at 233 lbs. He is your IWO Heavweight Champion of the World. This is...SIMON SEAMAN!
GP: Seaman might have a smile on his face now, but I'm guessing there's a certain someone that would want to turn that frown upside down.
JT: You guess nothing. Simon is prepared. Security is probably behind that curtain preventing any moron who would even think about interfering in this title match-up. He's got in covered. He has nothing to worry about.
Handing the title over to the referee, the ref walks over to Mad Max and shows him the championship. Loosening up for this match, Simon stretches a bit while concentrating on his opponent. As the bell rings to signal the start of the match, Seaman and Max circle each other in anticipation for a tie-up. Staring out to the fans jeering at him, Seaman shakes his head in disagreement before switching his attention back onto his opponent. Finally, as they come to a halt, they tie-up in the center of the ring. They struggle for the advantage, but Mad Max gets the upper hand and backs Simon into a corner. The ref urges them to break the hold. Max releases and backpedals back into the center of the ring. As Simon leans against the turnbuckle in the corner, he looks back at the crowding yelling at him. Talking back to them for a moment, he joins Max and executes another tie-up. This time, Seaman gets the advantage and hooks Max up from behind. Breaking his fingers apart, Max turns around. As Seaman charges Max, Mad Max gets in an arm drag. With Simon up on his feet again, Max gets another arm drag takedown. The third time, he is thrown down to the mat with a hip toss. Favouring his back, he slides out of the ring and takes a breather as the crowd starts booing him. Following that, Mad Max exits the ring and goes after the champ. With Seaman bending over trying to regain his composure, Max lifts him up by the chin and executes a knife edge chop. Simon staggers around in pain and tries to block the second attempt, but fails. Expecting yet another knife edge chop, he protects his chest but is then taken down with a stiff clothesline.
GP: The champion is in trouble.
JT: He might be now, but like I've always said, he'll make a comeback.
Picking Seaman back up by the head, Max walks over to the steel steps and whacks Seaman's head against it. Trying another one, Seaman blocks with a few elbows to the midsection, but it doesn't phase Mad Max as he slams the champ's head even harder into the cold steel. Falling to the ground, Seaman is guided back into the ring by Max as the challenger follows. Crawling over to the corner seeking refuge, Mad Max wastes no time and helps Seaman up, getting in another knife edge chop as well as a boot to the gut. Attempting to whip Seaman into the opposite corner, the champ reverses and sends Max into the corner. Bouncing off the corner, Seaman prepares to connect with a powerslam, but Max kicks him in the face and follows with another clothesline. Going for the first cover of the night, the ref drops down to make the count, but the challenger only gets a one count. Rising to a standing position, Seaman tries to get in a little offense on his opponent with a right punch, but Max blocks it and gets in one of his own. A second one gets Simon reeling. Leaning against the set off ropes, Max whips him into the opposite set and puts his head down, but Seaman notices this and takes advantage of the telegraphed move. Kicking Max in the face, Seaman tries a clothesline, but Max ducks and as the champ turns around, Max nails a DDT. Turning Simon on his back, Max gets up, bounces off a set of ropes and comes down with an elbow drop. Hooking the leg for another cover, he only gets two as Seaman gets a shoulder up.
GP: If Mad Max can keep this up, we could very well crown a new world champion. He almost had him there.
JT: I'd laugh at that statement, but it's too moronic to be acknowledged. One DDT isn't going to keep Simon down.
As Simon gets on his knees, Max nails him in the head with a few right hands. Standing up, Max hooks him and up and sends him down with a vertical suplex. Not letting go, Simon is once again thrown down to a mat by another. Showing no signs of fatigue, Mad Max picks him up and leaves him up there in the air as the fans cheer the challenger on.
GP: Look at the hang time Seaman is getting.
JT: Drop him down already, Mad Max! Blood is starting to rush into his head.
Pausing for a moment, he finally sets him down. Holding onto his lower back, Max gets in a few boots before picking him up again. Against one set of ropes, Max whips Seaman into the opposite set. Seeing Max waiting for him, Seaman dashes off the ropes, but is thrown over Max with an attempted back body drop to the floor, but Seaman lands on his feet. With Max's back turned, Seaman grabs his opponent's head from the ring apron and throws it down the canvas. With a shocked response from the crowd, Seaman wastes no time on capitolizing. As Mad Max favours his head, he walks in a circle trying to see where Simon us, but Seaman leaps off the top rope with a springboard back elbow sending Max back down to the mat.
GP: If I've noticed one good thing from Simon Seaman, it's that he's incredibly agile. I might not like him for what he does, but he can go. No doubt about that.
JT: He's the world champion for a reason you know. He just didn't win it in a raffle.
Mad Max returns to his feet, but is met by several right hands and knife edge chops. Pushing him against the ropes, Seaman whips him into the opposite set. Striving for a clothesline, he's not successful as Seaman ducks it, grabs Max by the head and drops him down with a neckbreaker. While the audience starts getting worked up, Seaman rises to his feet, yelling something at them. Disapproving of his rudeness, they yell back at him. Turning Max onto his back, Seaman connects with three elbows to the sternum. Rolling to the edge of the ring, Simon observes this and walks over him. Choking the challenger with his boot, Seaman uses the top rope for leverage. The ref starts counting and the champ finally releases at the count of four. Falling out of the ring and onto the floor, Max tries getting back up. Seeing his vulnerability, Seaman looks behind him, bounces off the ropes behind him and jumps out of the ring with a somersault plancha to the floor. Propping Max to his feet against the guardrail, he stands there for a moment and poses for the audience.
GP: Why the hell does he have to do that?
JT: Let him do what he wants to do. Stop criticizing him. He's catering to his fans in the arena.
GP: All three of them?
Guiding Max over to the ring post, Seaman starts there urging his challenger to attack him. Eventually, as Mad Max stands back up, he sees the champ and charges him, but at the last second, Seaman ducks to the floor
as Max hits face first into the hard, ring post. The fans gasp in horror as the sound echoes the arena.
GP: My god was that a sickening thud!
JT: I hope he stills has all of his teeth, if any at all after that incident.
On all fours, Max tries to re-enter the ring, but Seaman prevents him and strikes him in the back with a series of forearms. Leading him over in front of the broadcast table, he hooks him up and sends him down stomach first with a reverse suplex as the announcers scatter. The referee urges Simon to return to ring but he simply ignores it. As he starts a mandatory ten count, Seaman climbs up onto the announce table and looks around at the crowd. Jumping off the announce table, he connects with a legdrop to the back of Max's head landing on the floor. As Max slides off the table onto the floor, Seaman directs him back into the ring as the announcers return to their positions.
GP: Mad Max seems totally out of it right now.
JT: Simon just used our table as a platform. He got footprints all over my notes her. He spilled my drink too.
Back in the squared circle, Seaman crawls over to the middle of the ring and executes a pin attempt. The ref counts one, then two, but just before three, Mad Max kicks out to the fans' approval. Astonished by what just
happened, Seaman starts choking Max. As the ref starts bugging Simon, he release the hold, but places it on once again. Releasing it for the second time, Simon backs off like he's innocent. Slowly but surely, Max returns to his feet. Observing this, Seaman wastes no time and whips Max back into the ropes. Seeking to execute a hurricanrana, Max comes back and turns that attempt into a powerbomb. Too exhausted to go for the cover, he lays there next to his opponent taking a breather. The referee sees this and starts to count to ten.
GP: What a reversal by Mad Max! The back of Simon's head just bounced off the canvas.
At five, Seaman shows signs of movement as he pulls himself along the mat over. Desperately striving to make it back to his feet, we notice Mad Max on his feet making his way over to him. Currently showing signs of fatigue, Mad Max pauses for a while before whipping Seaman into the ropes. Bouncing off the ropes himself hoping to nail his opponent with a body press, Seaman stops him in mid-air and throws him down the ground. Hooking both of his legs with each arm, he tries to turn him over on his stomach and does so. In a variation of the boston crab, Simon turns around to face his opponent, continuing to apply the pressure on the lower back by wrenching Max's legs forward. Flailing his arms to make it to the bottom rope, he eventually does as the crowd roots him on. Forced to break the hold, Seaman backs off, but then drags Mad Max back into the middle ring and tries applying to submission hold again, but Max quickly gets to the ropes before he is able to apply it properly. In frustration, Seaman puts several stiff boots to Mad Max. Helping him up, he gets in a knife edge chop in the corner before whipping him into the opposite corner. With Max against the turnbuckle, Seaman rushes over to him, but Max sidesteps and throws Seaman shoulder first into the ring post. Following it up with a schoolboy, the crowd counts with ref, but Seaman gets his shoulder up just before three. In disbelief, Max kneels down and slams his palms against the mat.
GP: Man that was as close you're ever going to get.
JT: Did you see that? Did you just see that? Simon Seaman is our new Superman. Though not even kryptonite can take him down.
With Seaman struggling to get up, Max drags him over to the center of the ring. Pulling himself up with the help of Max, Mad Max hooks Simon up. Raising him high up in the air for what looks to be a brainbuster, but Seaman flails his legs and lands back down feet first on the canvas. Hooking Mad Max's leg, Seaman sets him up for a fisherman's DDT and converts that into a Michinoku Driver to the crowd's distaste. Instead of making the cover, Seaman slides out of the ring and onto the floor.
JT: Why isn't he going for the cover?
GP: I hope he's not trying to do something stupid.
Slowly crawling over to the timekeeper's table, he pulls himself up and grabs his IWO world title. With Mad Max motionless in the ring, Seaman re-enters it via under the bottom rope with the title in hand. Showing it proudly to the crowd, leaning against the rope, he waits for his opponent to rise to his feet. With the ref unaware of what Simon holds against him, he checks up on Mad Max on the mat. Showing signs of movement, Seaman starts winding up the title to the audience's dismay. As Mad Max finally gets up, Seaman charges him and attempts to hit him in the face with the title, but at the last second, the referee takes it from him. As the fans go absolutely crazy, Simon argues to the referee. Getting in his face, the ref takes the punishment for a while, but then shoves Simon backwards. Taking offense to the ref's actions, Seaman scratches his head, rubs his chin and pretends to think for a moment as Max is seen in the background dropping down to both knees. Without warning, Seaman shoves the ref in retaliation as the title as well as the ref fall down to the mat.
GP: I can't believe Simon did that.
JT: Well the ref shouldn't have been all up his area. He knew what he did, he should pay the consequences.
Booing even louder, Seaman backpedals and then turns around, but is met with a flurry of rights as he is ends up with his back to the turnbuckles. Picking him up, sitting him on the top turnbuckle, Mad Max walks over
and grabs the world title, placing it parallel to the turnbuckle about ten feet away on the mat. Making his way back to Simon, he gets in a few punches as Simon reels back. Scaling the turnbuckles, he stands Simon up and
hooks him. Attempting a superplex, Simon blocks the first and the second attempt before shoving Mad Max off the turnbuckle. With the ref shaking the cobwebs out of him, Seaman stands up with both feet on the top turnbuckle. The crowd rises to their feet and as Max turns around, Seaman leaps off the turnbuckle and connects with the Silencer right on the world title as flashbulbs go off throughout the arena. Going for the cover, the ref regains his composure and notices Seaman hooking Max's leg.
GP: Oh no, not this way.
JT: You damn right it's going to be this way!
Along with the fans, they reluctantly count the one, two, three in unison as the match ends and Simon is declared the victor. "Relax" by Powerman 5000 plays as Simon triumphantly raises his hands.
Meygon: Your winner and STILL the IWO WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION...SIMON SEAMAN!
The ref raises Simon's hand as he is given his title and cradles it in the other hand sitting on the mat. Demanding the referee to raise his hand again, he unwillingly obliges. For a third time, his hand is raised. As the ref leaves the ring helping Mad Max up exit the ring, Seaman crawls over to the corner and rests against the turnbuckles. With his music still playing, the IWOTron cuts to the back, showing Matt Rivers rolling Simon's large tub of paint heading over to the entranceway. Around him, we notice Simon's security out cold backstage. The fans start cheering wildly as they await his entrance.
JT: What does Matt Rivers think he's doing with that large container of paint that Simon was using?
GP: I don't know but I have a feeling we're going to find out.
The crowd gets on their feet as Matt Rivers makes his way down to the ring to Simon's music, which continues to play. With the warm welcome, Matt Rivers starts mouthing at Simon as he gets to ringside. Setting up the enormous tub of paint in front of the ring, he lifts up the ring skirt and pulls out a large, square piece of glass and slides it into the ring. All this time, Simon has no idea of what's going on and believes these cheers are for him.
JT: Glass?! GLASS?! Glass doesn't belong in a wrestling ring! Chairs, tables, grandmothers in the audience, anything except glass! What is he thinking?
Storming over to Simon, he turns him around and starts striking him with right hands after right hands as he drops his belt to the canvas. Going absolutely nuts, they cheer Rivers on as he whips Seaman into the opposite set of opes. Picking up the piece of glass, he charges at the champion and clothesline him over the top rope. Landing in the huge tub of blue paint, Simon becomes drenched in blue paint from head to toe. The crowd starts to laugh as they see him splashing inside of the tub absolutely furious.
JT: WHAT THE HELL?! Simon doesn't deserve this. Rivers has no right doing this!
GP: If I were him, I'd feel a little blue too.
JT: SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP! Simon, are you okay?!
With Rivers becoming the most loved individual in the arena, he drops the square piece of glass to mat, picks up Seaman's IWO World Title, and proceeds to walk over to him. With blue paint splashing everywhere at ringside, he keeps his distance as he is handed a microphone and speaks into it as Simon's music stops. With Simon looking at himself and at Rivers absolutely enraged, he starts yelling at him and tries to get out of the tub, but is unable to and slips back in. Grabbing the pane of glass from inside of the ring, he shows it to Simon with a smirk on his face as he walks to the back. "Makin' Money" by Handsome Devil plays as Simon looks on with a confused look on his face staring at Matt Rivers, then in frustration kicks paint out of the tub and onto the floor, covering the camera at ringside in the process.
GP: What is Matt Rivers doing with a piece of glass?
JT: Forget about that. Can Simon ever get that paint out of his clothes?
GP: Folks, for my colleague JT and myself, Greg Parker. This has been Hostile Takeover. We'll see you next week and hopefully we can get some answers.
JT: What is going through each of these individuals' minds?
GP: What is going on? That's more like it. That's what I want to know.
The camera slowly fades to Seaman, who's confused state has turned into a state of anger. He looks down at his World Championship, and then yells out "You'll never get this, or get to me either!," before slowly fading out.