*Warning: This card may not contain rape, however, it does have vulgar language and violence. So, "watch" at your own risk.*
World Heavyweight Title Match
Schitzo Tod -c- vs. High Flyer
North American Title Match
Harold Hash vs. Erik Blake vs. Capital Punishment vs. Ash 'Shadow' Robinson
Evan Levine vs. Bossa Nova
Bob Job vs. Daniel Phillips
We cut backstage, to the parking garage. As the scene around us unfolds, a car conveniently pulls up. It's a `57 Chevy Bel Air, cherry red with radio blaring "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin. The top's down, and we can see Jack and Aubrey Breaker. The crowd goes totally nuts as Jack hops out of the car and circles to open Aubrey's door.
GP: It's Jack Breaker! But he's not scheduled to be here tonight... not in his conditon, anyway.
Indeed, Jack is sporting a pronounced limp and a huge bandage poking out from under his usual red bandana. Aubrey too is injured; her arm was put in a sling by an unrelated event, ie. being put through a table at the recent jOlt PPV. The camera follows Jack as he and Aubrey stroll relatively lively in through the arena's back door. The camera pans out and focuses on Jack's car, parked diagonally across three parking spaces, lights and radio still on.
"Give it Back" by Hoobastank.
We see an image of Jack Breaker leaping off of the middle scaffold and nailing Simon Seaman with the Heartbreaker, before Seaman was rolled off the edge.
We see an image of the Legion of Dairy hitting their patented "Sellout," before winning the World Heavyweight Tag Team Championships.
We see AWS Commish(Also known as Dictator) in a referee shirt, and Ford trying to send him to the back. We see Nuke drive Schitzo Tod into the mat with Burning Psychosis, but no referee to count, since Ford had sent the Commish to the back.
And then we see Nuke punch Ford square over the top rope, followed by Schitzo Tod nailing Tam twice, and then driving Nuke into the mat with a Reverse DDT Driver.
JT: It's just not fair!
Fade into the arena, as fans are screaming for their favorite wrestlers, holding up sighs, the normal begining to a card. "Give it Back" is still playing, as the camera then slowly rest towards Greg Parker and JT.
GP: Fans, welcome back to IWO television. Schitzo Tod is still our World Heavyweight Champion...
JT: Tod must have sold his soul to Gunnar, it's the only explaination...
GP: After successfully defending his championship against Nuke. Tonight, Tod defends the belt against fan favorite High Flyer, in Flyer's first title shot since... well....
JT: Since Seaman sent him to Florida, where Flyer SHOULD still remain!
GP: Not to meantion a North American title fourway, and we hear that Ford has something to tell Nuke tonight here.
JT: Oh boy. Nuke punched Ford because he thought Ford was trying to screw him at the latest pay per view. Imagine what could happen between THOSE two!
The crowd is buzzing, half in a drunken stupor and the other half genuinely excited. The first thing that sets them off is the two rising pillars of soap bubbles on either side of the entrance ramp. Then, "Cyclops Rock" by They Might be Giants blasts and echoes throughout the arena as Jack and Aubrey Breaker appear on stage amidst the bubbles.
Meygon: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, from New Orleans, Louisiana, and accompanied by Aubrey Breaker, the Number-One Contender to the World Heavyweight title, JAAAAAACKKK BREAAAAAKKEEEERR!
The fans are on their feet in a frenzy as Jack energetically rushes to the ring, barely hindered by his pronounced limp. He hops up on the apron and pauses just where he would usually leapfrog the ropes into the ring, then runs down the apron and does a handstand on the turnbuckle. He holds for a few seconds while camera flashes explode across the crowd, then he hops down and does the same on the other three turnbuckles, in sequence. Aubrey is standing nearby, milking a huge reaction from the crowd. Finally, with the crowd sufficiently popped-out, Jack retreats to the center of the ring and retrieves a microphone from Aubrey as the music and the roar of the crowd dies down.
Jack: Heeeey, what's up, crowd?
The crowd pops once more, and signs sprout up across the ringside area. We focus on one in particular: "Phelen Kell... Sam Potright... High Flyer... Jack Breaker?!?".
Jack: Sixteen stitches... *He touches his forehead* ... two broken toes... twisted ankle... badly bruised shoulder... I tell ya, it was hell up there.
Jack looks down at his feet, then guiltily glances back up.
Jack: Okay, okay. So I actually broke one of the toes BEFORE the match... I was playing rock paper scissors with Bob Job... I ask you, how the hell does paper beat rock?
JT: Idiot. Everyone knows that paper COVERS rock!
Jack: ..I heard that JT. And, come on, it's a fucking ROCK! Nothing can beat a rock! It's all hard an' crap! ...But, on with the story. Y'see, Bob thinks he's got me, so he chucks the rock at my head. I get all pissed and kick him, but his little robot buddy gets all up in my hizzy, and next thing you know, my pinky toe is turning blue. "Ow, my fucking pinky toe!" I yell out, but does he listen? Noooo! That ingrate. I oughta sock him in the mouth.
GP: Folks, I apologize for anything offensive Jack has to say... he must be hopped up on painkillers or something.
JT: Really? I thought he was hopped up on stupidity.
Jack: So, anyway. Back to the topic at hand. As I was lying on the cold ground of the back locker room after the Mayhem Match, having my forehead stitched up, the question came. I knew it would... it always pops up in situations like these. I forget even who said it, but the words stuck with me. "Was it worth it?"
Jack pauses to reflect.
Jack: "Was it worth it?" I asked myself over and over during the loooong drive up here. The broken bones? The stictches? The searing pain in every joint in my body whenever I decide to move? Well, I thought about it, and let me tell you something. The feeling I got, standing above you all... looking down on the world and knowing that, even if just for one brief, shining moment, I was on top of it all... I wouldn't trade that feeling for anything.
The crowd pops huge. A small "Breaker" chant starts up, but loses out to the general roar and fizzles away.
Jack: If nothing else, I proved to the world... and to myself... that it can be done. That sometimes, just sometimes, to paraphrase the old addage, it really is the size of the fight in the dog that matters.
GP: I'VE been saying that for years, and I never got any crowd reaction! That punk kid thinks he can just waltz in here, steal my catchphrase, and the crows goes nuts for it?
JT: You are sooooo a J.R. clone.
GP: Am not... diggty!
In the ring, Jack continues, incredulous to the argument brewing at the announcer's table.
Jack: And now, as a reward for the punishment and anguish I put myself through up on that scaffolding, I square off with Schitzo Tod for the World Heavyweight strap at Conspiracy Theory. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise, Tod is one hell of a champ. He's a legend... and whether you like to admit it or not, you all know deep down inside that you want to pop HUGE at the very mention of his name. So, why don't we all do likewise? I'll start us off. WHOOO~! TOD! TOD! TOD!
The crowd grudgingly picks up the chant, no one wanting to admit their respect for the World champ.
Jack: Yeah. Now, let's...
Suddenly, a very small tuna falls from the roof and hits Jack in the head.
Jack: Shit. That wasn't supposed to happen yet... oh, well.
He calls off backstage.
Jack: Harry, release the fish!
A sudden, abrupt avalanche of fish of various shapes and sizes rains down on the audience like confetti. The crowd pops one final time and remains in an ovation as "Cyclops Rock" follows Jack and Aubrey back up the ramp. Along the way, Jack reaches out an high-fives everyone on the one side of the stage. Aubrey does the same to the other side. They retreat behind the curtain backstage, but not before one final hair toss by Jack.
GP: Well, the crowd is on their feet for the May Mayhem winner, Jack Breaker.
JT: Why the hell aren't you on your feet, Greg? You always mark out for the losers like Jack.
GP: I don't... have feet.
JT: What happened to your...
GP: Boating accident.
Bossa Nova vs. Evan Levine
GP: This next match up is giving one rookie a chance to beat a former 2 time IWO champion while the other is trying to regain fame here in the IWO. It's Evan Levine verses Bossa Nova.
JT: Why the hell do they even let this match happen? I mean come on Evan is going to make short work of this guy if any of the crowd blinks they will probably miss the match.
GP: Well, we will have to wait to see if that comes true or not. I think this match is more even than you are letting on. Evan is not the same man he was when he was an IWO World champion.
JT: He may not be the same man but I bet he will make short work out of Bossa Nova.
GP: Well, lets find out who is going to win
let's head to the ring.
The camera switches from GP and JT to Meygon who is standing in the middle of the ring with microphone in hand.
Meygon: The following match is a one-fall match up. Introducing first from Antioch, California
standing 5 feet 11 inches tall and weighing 222 pounds BOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSAAAAAAA NOOOOOOVVVAAAAA!!!
"Sorry about your penis" by Smashmouth blast over the PA system and Nova walks out from behind the curtains some fans are standing on there feet screaming and cheering as Nova walks to the ring. He looks around the crowd before climbing the steps and getting in the ring.
JT: If size means anything in this business, which it does, this guy is screwed.
GP: Well, from what I have heard he may not look like much but he has a heart twice the size of his body.
JT: But heart doesn't win you matches, titles, or gain you fame.
GP: Well, I have to disagree there have been many IWO champions that were not that big but made up for it with heart and determination.
Meygon: And his opponent from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania standing 6 feet 4 inches tall and weighing 243 pounds a former 2 time IWO World champion, former 2 time IWO North American champion, former IWO Pacific Champion, Former IWO United states champion, an IWO legend the real heel EVVVVVVANNNNNNNN LEEEEEEVVVVINNNEEEEEEE!!!!!!
'Simon Says' by Pharoahe Monch blast over the PA system and Evan walks out from behind the curtains followed by Discord. The fans are booing Evan like crazy as he laughs and walks down to the ring. Evan slowly gets in the ring making sure to take his time.
*Ding Ding Ding*
GP: And this match up is underway.
Both Evan and Nova are circling each other in the ring. Both men lock up in the center of the ring but Evan quickly puts Nova into a headlock. Nova tries sending Evan to the ropes but Evan runs up the ropes and jumps around nailing a bulldog on Nova.
GP: Did you see that
Nova thought he was going to get out of the headlock but Evan had other plans as he ran up the ropes and hit a bulldog. Nova looks to be stunned.
JT: Yes, see and you doubted that Evan was going to make short work of Nova?
GP: Well, it is still very early in the match
not to mention you counted Nova out before the match even started.
Both men are back on there feet now Evan has Nova and he sends him to the corner and he runs after him and rams his knee into Nova's stomach. Nova tries to lean over but he can't as he does he catches a fist to the face from Evan.
GP: Evan sure isn't going to give this kid a chance. I think you may have been right JT
even though this match just started I don't think this match is a question of who will win but more of a question of how long is Evan going to pound on Nova.
JT: I'm always right how dare you doubt me.
Evan is now climbing the ropes to start pounding away at Nova's face. Evan nails one right hand then another and another as the crowd counts. He is at nine when Nova head butts Evan in the crotch.
GP: Well, I think I spoke too soon Nova isn't out of this yet.
JT: HEY he should be disqualified for that.
if you think Nova should have been disqualified for that then Evan was using closed fist to punch Nova in the face and he should have been disqualified for that.
Evan is still on the second rope and leaned over and Nova is under him. Nova picks up Evan and then starts to run and before he gets to the other turn buckle he stops and slams Evan down hitting a huge running power bomb.
GP: Yes, Nova is showing some offense. This could turn out to be a very good match after all. And no you are not always right in fact you are mostly wrong just like you were about this match.
JT: Fuck you.
Nova is on his feet while Evan is still on the ground. Nova looks around and realizes he has a chance. He climbs to the top rope and looks around once again.
GP: Your wasting too much time he is going to move.
Nova stops looking then sets up and jumps and he connects with a huge frog splash. He rolls Evan up for the pin.
GP: Evan kicked out after a two and a half count. That was close to one of the biggest upsets of the year.
JT: Please Evan was just taking a break.
GP: Yeah its called being knocked out and he almost lost.
Nova gets up and looks at the referee thinking it was a three count. He picks Evan up by the hair and then gives him a body slam back to the mat. Nova again looks around at the crowd and he points to the top ropes.
GP: I think he is going for his finisher The Bossa Blast (450 shooting star press).
JT: No, get up Evan
GET UP. Someone stop this match. Nova cheated someone stop this match. Evan can't lose
By this time Nova is on the top rope then he jumps going for The Bossa Blast but nobody is home Evan moved out of the way at the last second.
JT: Yes, that's the way Evan I had my faith in you all along.
Evan rolls over on top of Nova going for the pin.
GP: Nova kicked out at the last second! See I told you he had lots of heart.
JT: He is lucky now Evan is going to finish him off.
Evan slowly gets back to his feet once on his feet he picks up Nova then hits him with a double arm DDT but Evan doesn't go for the pin.
GP: I think Evan wants to put Nova through some pain.
JT: Your damn right he does.
Evan picks Nova up again and he locks up going for a suplex but as he tries to pick Nova up Nova blocks it. Evan tries yet again but again Nova blocks it. Evan tries a third time but Nova rolls Evan up into a small package going for the pin.
GP: Nooooooooooo! Evan kicked out Evan kicked out.
JT: Evan is just trying to build Nova some confidence making Nova think he won the match.
GP: Yeah you keep telling yourself that.
Bossa Nova gets to his feet, as Evan grabs him from behind. He hooks him, and then turns him around into a Tomikaze, but before he can drive him, Bossa Nova shoves him off and into the ropes... right into a glass dildo shot by the masked man who looks like Psycho Jay. The masked man drops off the apron and begins to laugh hysterically before leaving the ring.
Bossa Nova doesn't know what happens, hooking the returning Levine with a rollup, and leaning back as far he can for the cover.
Meygon: Your winner, via pinfall, BOSSA NOVA!
Bossa Nova raises his hands in victory. Out of nowhere, "Revolution/Revolución" by Ill Niño starts to play. The crowd goes into a booing frenzy of utter madness and poo-poo-faced destruction, because this signals the arrival of Those Damned Mexicans! Diablo and Edguardo come out to their un-adoring public.
GP: What the hell is this? Those Damned Mexicans don't even have a vested interest in the match!
JT: Well, whatever they're doing is probably more important than this suckfest!
The World's 55th Most Dangerous Mexicans simply stroll down the ramp. Evan Levine and Bossa Nova are still...STILL...fighting, without paying heed to TDM's entrance. Diablo and Edguardo both calmly grab chairs, and roll into the ring. Just then, they both hit Evan Levine! The crowd goes absolutely crazy!
GP: AN UNEXPECTED MANEUVER FROM TDM! THEY HAVE DELIVERED THE OFFICIAL MEXICAN DOUBLE CHAIRSHOT (double chairshot, or Conchairto for all you old-timers) TO EVAN LEVINE!
JT: WHAT THE HELL?!!
Now, Edguardo pulls a burrito from his pants (NO, NOT LIKE THAT YOU SICK FREAK!)...AND NAILS BOSSA NOVA WITH IT! Bossa Nova goes flying into the nearest corner!
GP: LOADED BURRITO! LOADED BURRITO TO BOSSA NOVA! Apparently, we're not seeing a TDM/Bossa Nova alliance anytime soon...
JT: THEY ATTACKED EVAN!
Diablo props Evan up in a corner, and Edguardo leaves Bossa Nova in his corner. As Diablo just punches away at Evan, Edguardo grabs onto the ropes, and kicks Bossa Nova in the balls! The crowd cringes, and then Edguardo kicks Bossa Nova in the balls again! Again! Again! The crowd boos at Edguardo's total brutality, and finally collectively cringes as Edguardo delivers his TENTH kick to the balls on Bossa Nova!
GP: OOOOH! Bossa Nova, kiss your girlfriend goodbye!
JT: THAT WAS AWESOME! COMPLETELY AWESOME!
While Bossa Nova writhes in pain, Diablo and Edguardo grab Evan Levine. Diablo lifts him up in the Sky High, and Edguardo delivers the neckbreaker on the way down, for the...
GP: MEXICAN DEATH DROP! MEXICAN DEATH DROP!
Diablo and Edguardo then throw both of the former competitors of the match out of the ring. Diablo grabs a mic as the crowd chants, "DIRTY SPICKS! DIRTY SPICKS!"
Diablo: FUCK ALL OF YOU!
The crowd continues chanting.
GP: There goes our shot of getting back on television anytime soon.
Diablo: Now, we're out here for illustrative purposes. Specifically, for the Legion of Dairy! You two British fucks may have the World Tag Team Titles now.
JT: Their british?
GP: Just go with them JT. Just go with them.
Diablo: But just look at what we've done to these two bastards. This...IS ABOUT ONE-TENTH OF WHAT YOU'RE GONNA GET! That is, unless you give us a rematch for the World Tag Team Titles! So it's up to you, anglos: either be pussies and get your asses kicked...or be brave, and get your asses kicked!
Captain Obvious: Dude...you're not the champions, they are. They can do what they want.
Diablo: SHUT UP, CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!
Captain Obvious: SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDEN.
Captain Obvious flies away.
We cut backstage, where we see the oh-so-underused ace IWO reporter, Max Riot, standing next to Jack and Aubrey Breaker. Max has a microphone; Jack has a GIANT chocolate chip cookie and a bottle of Minute Maid lemonade.
Max: Well, I'm here talking with Jack Breaker... Jack, you made some interesting comments out there regarding Schitzo Tod... but aren't you supposed to insult your opponent?
Jack: Insult... my.. opp.. DAMMIT! I knew I forgot something. Shit. I'm new to the world of 'coherent' promos. Cut me some slack.
Max: Well, is there anything you want to say to Tod now?
Jack: Now that you mention it, yeah. Hey, Tod. Do YOU know the muffin man? Cause I've been trying to find this guy for years.
Jack takes a huge bite out of his cookie, as if flaunting Max's lack of cookies over him.
Suddenly, Bob Job runs past, pointing in front of him and screaming "To the bubblecraft!"
Max: ...Okay, that was a little strange. But anyway, Jack, you're... Jack? Jaack?
We see Jack Breaker, running alongside Bob.
Jack: TO THE BUBBLECRAFT~!
Max shakes his head in disappointment as we fade out.
Fade backstage. Ford is in his office, his jaw noticably red. Kestler is there as well, trying to do a handstand but being unsuccessful.
Ford: Send him in...
Ford said it coldly, and you could tell why when the man before him strolled into the room.
It was Nuke, the sadistic, careless, angry psychopath standing before Ford. Ford let out a groan, as Nuke admired his handywork.
Ford: Listen, let's not drag this out. You're suspended tonight and you're suspended two weeks from now. You'll appear in the Conspiracy Theory matches and Beach Party supercard just because you're a name, but any weekly shows you'll be strictly banned from until I say so, we clear?
Nuke: Fuck you.
Ford: As long as we're clear then.
Ford went back to shuffeling his papers, as Nuke reached over the desk and pulled him up by his shirt.
Nuke: If you're trying to punish me Ford, try thinking a little more original.
Kestler walks over, and rips Nuke away from Ford. Kestler stands there between to the two men, as Nuke just chuckles to himself. He turns away, and then walks out of the room.
Kestler: Man, you can admire a person's shirt all you want, but trying to rip it right off the person's back is just wrong!
Ford glances at Kestler, who returns to trying to stand on his head.
Double Re-Debut Match
Bob Job vs. Daniel Phillips
GP: Well, we've got another match here, sort of a double debut match.
JT: *singing* La, la, la, Phillips is gonna kill Bob Job~! He's gonna rip pieces of him off like corn on the cob~!
GP: Yeah, just like you to start singing about it. Horribly.
JT: What's wrong with my singing?
"One Thing" by Gravity Kills hit.
The fans erupt in a chorus of boos, as Daniel Phillips made his way down to the ring. He scoffs and yells at a few choice fans at the front row, avoided their very touch, and generally was acting like a complete asshole. As he came down, Meygon begins the ring announcements.
Meygon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is set for one fall. Making his way down the aisle, from Phoenix, Arizona, and weighing in at two hundred and twelve pounds... he is Daniel Phillips!
More boos, as Phillips enters the ring and didn't even gesture at the fans, he just sort of stands there and prepares himself from the tough and epic challenge that only Bob Job could possibly be.
The fans begin to cheer as Bob Job wanders out to the ring, to the fans' delight. How jobbers get the biggest reactions around here, we'll never know.
Meygon: And his opponent, from Lic... Lic... erm... uh... <b>DAMMIT</b>, I'm not even going to say this place. He weighs in at... JESUS CHRIST, you're a freaking toothpick... sheesh. Anyway, he's Bob Job~!
Meygon leaves the ring, Bob Job enters the ring.
GP: Um, JT, is this match especially fair?
JT: Well, um... no. But that's what makes it interesting! I mean, any day of the weak and twice on Sunday, Daniel Phillips could kick Bob Job's ass.
Well, that's exactly what Phillips does, as Bob Job aims right and left hands at Phillips' chest, while Phillips really isn't that affected. Phillips finally gets bored of this and knees Bob Job in the gut. He pulls Bob Job into the center of the ring and snap suplexes him, which Bob Job sells so much that he sells it right to the outside of the ring.
GP: Er... that was unusual.
JT: Hahaha, what a wuss.
Phillips follows Bob Job out, but Bob Job tries to run away. He doesn't succeed, because he trips. Not over Daniel, but over himself. Bob Job scrambles to his feet, but Daniel tosses him back into the ring. He then maneuvers behind Bob Job and hits the Inciter, a Blue Thunder powerbomb.
The fans boo hard, as Bob Job was pretty much laid out in the ring, while Phillips just chuckles to himself. He stands up and pulls Bob Job into his grip, before snapping him into the Perfect Halo, his finisher. Phillips mockingly covers Bob Job for what had to have been a sure victory.
JT: Hey! Hey! HEY! Why the hell did Donnie Daze just pull the referee out of the ring?!
GP: I don't think Donnie Daze is too pleased with Daniel Phillips after the events of the Mayhem Match, where Phillips eliminated himself and Daze at the same time to keep Daze from a World title shot.
Daze enters the ring with a metal folding chair, while Phillips, confused about why there isn't a count of three, stands back up.
GP: Good LORD, what a vicious chairshot to the forehead of Daniel Phillips! I think he might be out!
JT: Hey! That CHEATING bastard! How dare he!
Daze decides to add insult to injury by pulling Bob Job on top of Daniel's prone body. The referee was recovering from Daze pulling him to the floor, so Daze left and took the chair with him. The referee stands back up and reenters the ring to continue. He sees Bob Job covering Phillips, and while he's all like "WTFMF?!" about the fact that Bob Job was pinning ANYONE, he counts anyway.
JT: Come on, this is a travesty!
JT: It's his frickin' debut! He can't lose here!
*ding, ding, ding*
Meygon: Your winner of this match... Bob Job~!
The fans went apeshit, as Bob Job actually wins a match. Daniel Phillips rolls to his stomach and sees that Donnie Daze was standing in the aisleway, smiling at him. Phillips seethes with anger and rolls to the outside.
GP: Oh, man. It'll take an army to keep these two apart, if they do end up going at it.
The scene opens up to Hash busting in the door of AWS Commish (also known as Dictator). He breaks the door down and beats it with a noodle, and not one of those pussy ass cooked one. It be all hard and stuff.
AWS Commish: Oh the horror, the freakin horror!
Hash: Yeah and if you don't want to see more of this you better get me some pie bitch!
Hash ducks out of the office. AWS Commish goes to the door and starts to hold it like a dying person.
AWS Commish: WHY GOD WWWWWWWHHHHHHYYYYYY!!!! THE DOOR WAS TOO YOUNG, TO FREAKIN YOUNG!!!
Commish starts to get a stern look on his face even though you can't see it through the paint ball mask.
AWS Commish: That is an evil mastermind, I need to get him some pie.
The scene fades out.
North American Championship
Harold Hash -c- vs. Capital Punishment vs. Erik Blake vs. Ash Robinson
vs. vs. vs.
Meygon: The next match is for the North American Title. It is an anything goes Fatal Fourway. The first person in this match is a man who no one really cares about
"Fight Music" by D12 comes on the PA system. Out steps Erik Blake to massive amounts of boos. Oh so massive.
GP: Well it seems, as no one really likes Erik Blake in this arena. I know as sure don't like his punk ass.
JT: Not me I love Erik, I want to have his child!
GP: Man that is just not right!
Meygon: The next contestant is a former IWO United States champions
"Dear Penis" by Rodney Carrington comes on. Out steps Ash, he makes his way to the ring and spits at Erik.
GP: Looks like Ash wants to get this started right away. But if you ask me that wouldn't be much of a match.
JT: Of course it would not be a match. Erik would make Robinson his little woman and forced to wear a dress so he can see what a woman actually should look like.
GP: You have problems, you know that don't you?
Meygon: And the third challenger is a man that needs no introduction. He is a two-time IWO champion, and a one time cow wearing Itsy Bitsy Spider singing bitch. CAPITAL PUNISHMENT!
What ever music Cappy comes out to is playing, I don't remember what he said cause I am a tard and forgot to right it down, and now he is not on AIM :(. It's also not my fault he didn't post it on his biography page. Ford, fire him. He makes his way down to the ring and spits at both of the other two people.
GP: Well Cappy is used to IWO gold. He should be able to win this match. Unless he is trying to act like a crack whore.
JT: I want a crack whore!
GP: We all know you do.
Meygon: And the final participant in this match. The current IWO NA title holder and holds the record for the longest special in the IWO (THIS IS A LONG NAME FOR A MOVE THAT ISN'T ALL TO IMPRESSIVE BUT I LIKE IT 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 TIME! (450 leg drop.) Harold HASH!
Hacksaw Decapitation by Cannibal Corpse blasts over the PA system. All of the lights go out and a green flame comes up at the top of the rampway. Out step 5 midgets. They are the midget versions of, Joe C, Midget Nuke, Willy Wonka, Adolf Hitler, and David Arquette. The midgets make their way to the ring apron. Hash comes on the Titantron.
Hash: Did you guys really think I was going to come down and fight the likes of you? Man you guys must smoke a lot of crack. So this is now a 9-way match. MIDGETS ATTACK!
GP: The midgets are climbing into the ring, and there goes the bell the match has started! This has to be one of the most fucked up things ever to be on IWO! Midget Midget Nuke is grabbing something out of his pocket. It is a blowtorch!
Midget Midget Nuke: ARQUETTE THIS IS FOR YOU!
MMN runs towards Midget David Arquette with the blowtorch on full blast!
JT: Oh my god this match is starting off right with the burning of a midget version of a two bit actor who tries to be a wrestler, BURN DAVID BURN!!
MDA: NOOOOOOO, I WAS THE WCW WORLD CHAMPION!!!
GP: Yes and that must be why you burned first, but wait what is MMN doing now? He is running away from the ring! He has blowtorch in one hand and a pipe bomb in the other!
MMN: I HAVE A PLANE TO GO CA
I MEAN BLOW THE FUCK UP!
JT: And with that MMN has eliminated himself from the match, damn he is evil! Now Erik Blake has grabbed the midget version of Joe C and he did a vicious hanging man DDT! He has to be dead. Damn that was a wicked evil move.
GP: Yes it was and now Kid Rock is coming down to the ring from no where! He has gone to the corpse of little Joe C and is holding it close to him.
Kid Rock: NOOOOO NOT AGAIN
I CAN'T LET YOU DIE!!!! I WILL ADVANGE YOUR DEATH JOE C!
Kid Rock turns and looks at Adolf Hitler and Willy, He pulls a sawed off shotgun out of his balloon pants.
JT: It's amazing what you can fit in those balloon pants isn't it?
GP: Yeah you should know, you are wearing them right now.
JT looks around suspiciously.
JT: I am not, these are specialty pants totally different from balloon pants.
MC Hammer appears out of no wheres in full priest get up and a little boy on a leash behind him.
MC Hammer: Brother JT I am so glad I found you, you still haven't given me the money for those 4 crates of balloon pants I sold you at a yard sale. Can I please get my money for those pants?
JT: Bitch I have no idea what you are talking about. I never bought any pants from you. You better get out of here with you little sex toy before something bad happens to you!
MC Hammer: Oh I think it will be the other way around foo.
MC Hammer pulls off his priest get up and an MC Hammer mask. It is Mr. T.
Mr. T: I pity the foo that doesn't pay me money for balloon pants. I also pity the foo that doesn't use 1-800-collect! Save yo momma some money with those calls. But now it is T time!
Mr. T goes to punch JT when all of a sudden a bullet goes threw his head. The camera goes to the top of the Titantron where MMN is holding a sniper rifle.
MMN: THAT'S FUCKING RIGHT BITCH. MR. T AIN'T GOING TO BE HASSLING ANYONE NO MORE MOTHER FUCKER!
GP: Damn maybe we should get back to the match?
JT: Yeah what the hell is happening in this match now?
GP: Midget Willy and Midget Adolf have left the arena to make an anti-Jew candy. Hash came down finally and Erik Blake and Cappy are brawling back and forth throwing lefts and rights
oh Ash just did a chop block to Cappy. Now Ash is on top of Cappy throwing those rights right to the face!
JT: Hash is standing in the corner
he sees that Erik isn't paying attention to him at all. OH I bet Erik is going to be paying more attention now! His face just got drilled into the mat with a face buster from Hash! Now Hash is going up top, Erik is getting up
HASH NAILS HIM WITH A MISSLE DROPKICK!
GP: That was a huge hit by Hash. Ash and Cappy are still brawling. Ash is up and bring Cappy to his feet, but Cappy does a chop to Ashes throat! Cappy just did a gutwrench powerbomb to Ash. But Hash wants a little bit of Cappy. CAPPY JUST GOT SPEARED OUT OF THE RING BY HASH!
JT: Now Hash and Capital Punishment are fighting on the out side. Hash is to his feet and grabbed a kendo stick from under the ring. CAPITAL PUNISHMENT JUST GOT NAILED IN THE FACE WITH THAT KENDO STICK NOT ONCE BUT THREE TIMES! THE BLOOD IS GOING DOWN HIS FACE
. THIS IS WONDERFUL!
GP: Now Erik is trying to get into this hardcore match, he has picked up a chair from somewhere and is looking to hit Ash
BUT NO ASH KICKS OUT HIS KNEES AND ERIK FALLS FORWARD AND HITS HIS FACE AGAINST THE CHAIR! HIS PLAN HAS BACKFIRED ON HIM!
JT: What is Hash doing? He has both him and Capital Punishment on the apron of the ring
he has the kendo stick under Capital Punishments throat
HE IS ABOUT TO DO A RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP! BUT ASH JUST DID A HUGE MOVE! HE JUST LUNGED HIMSLEF OVER THE TOP ROPE TO SPEAR BOTH HASH AND CAPITAL PUNISHMENT OFF THE APRON!!! THAT WAS A HUGE MOVE FOR ASH!
GP: But now Erik is getting to his feet
Ash is going back into the ring and gets stopped by a big boot to the face by Erik! Erik is pulling Ash to the center of the ring
he slingshots him into the corner! That will take the wind out of you. Hash is starting to get to his feet
Erik is going to pin Ash
Hash is on the top rope
WHAT THE HELL IS OUR COMMISH DOING!?!?!?
AWS Commish: YOU WANT SOME FREAKIN PIE THEN YOU WILL GET PREAKIN PIE!
AWS Commish has a pie-shooting gun and has it aimed at Hash. AWS Commish shoots four pies right at Hash as he is standing on the top rope. Hash fall off and lands on the guardrail.
GP: OH MY GOD HASH HAS TO BE DEAD
.IT HAS TO BE OVER!!!
JT: I agree that was a vicious fall that Hash just took
but look Erik is getting a pin.
JT: NO he was robbed of that pin
.if AWS Commish hadn't come down and fucked everything up Erik would be our new North American Champion
GP: Shut it JT Erik can still win
look he is laying into Ash with those kicks Now Erik is picking up Ash
.he is about to set up for the Highlighter
WHAT IS THIS
SOME HOW HASH IS GETTING UP AGAIN!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! ERIK IS ABOUT TO HIT IT
BUT NO ASH HAS REVERSED IT INTO A HUGE BELLY TO BACK SUPLEX! ASH IS GOING FOR THE PIN
HASH IS RIGHT THERE THO!!
All of a sudden the lights go out
they are out for a few minutes. When they come back on Hash is laid out on the ring with an inflatable cow on his chest.
Meygon: The winner and new North American Champion
ASH "SHADOW" ROBINSON!
JT: THAT'S NOT RIGHT
ERIK WAS SCREWED OUT OF THE MATCH! HE WOULD HAVE KICKED OUT IF THE LIGHTS HADN'T GONE OUT!
GP: Why is he scared of the dark? But that isn't the major story here
the story is why is there that cow on Hashes chest
makes you wonder doesn't it?
JT: NO I only wonder who would have screwed Erik like that!
GP: Well anyone in the IWO almost for starters
but no one care about Erik Blake damn it!
We head on over to Tom Ford's office as we see him relaxing in his chair watching the night's proceedings on a nearby television. Next to him stands none other than Rob Kestler who is seen leaning against the wall behind him. From out of nowhere, Ford's secretary is heard on speaker phone which completely startles the two.
Secretary: There's someone here to see you, sir.
Ford took a moment to bring himself at ease before responding.
Ford: Really? Who's that?
Suddenly, noises could be heard in the background as it seemed as though someone was fiddling with the phone. Waiting for his secretary's reply, his question was answered by Simon Seaman instead, who raised his voice in anger while speaking.
Simon: You know damn well who this is Ford. I've got a bone to pick with you, mister. Heck, I've got a whole skeleton to pick with you if you're up for it.
Glancing at Rob who simply shrugs his shoulders, Ford shakes his head and then responded.
Ford: Alright, bring him in.
The camera cuts in close to Ford sitting at his desk mumbling something to Rob. Before their conversation could even finish, he's interrupted by Simon who cleared his throat in a loud fashion that got the attention of the room.
Simon: What's the dilly yo, chief? Everything hip and happening? Robert, good to see you again too.
He turns himself around to face Simon and replies while he occupies himself by organizing his desk.
Ford: Long time no see, Simon Seaman. To answer your query, I'm doing mighty fine. Rob, how about you?
Ford: So what can we do for you tonight? Let me see here. Will you be whining to both of us about how you're not the champion anymore and how you are being treated unfairly or are you here to challenge one of us to a match and lose for the billionth time?
Annoyed by Ford's comment, Simon sighs and moved on.
Simon: Um, yeah...no. I have a beef about this new "Internet Wrestling Organization" you're providing to these so-called fans.
Ford: And what is that beef, Mr. Seaman?
Rob: I bet it's sirloin. Is it sirloin? It better be sirloin...
Glaring at Kestler with a confused expression on his face, Simon zones out for a while before coming to his senses.
Simon: Sorry, but no. Ford, I'd like to know how come I don't have my own locker room anymore? Seriously, a few weeks ago, it was all fine and dandy like sour candy. Now, I can't even turn around without seeing a face that looked like it could've been on the cover of "Put a Bag Over You Head" magazine.
Ford: And you're here... why?
Folding his arms clearly upset, Simon continues.
Simon: Why is it that everywhere I look in the locker room, there's a pimply faced, ambitious and ignorant kid wanting to meet me? I might be only twenty seven years old, but at least I became a wrestler when I knew what I was going into at twenty-two. Now I see these so-called grapplers entering this establishment like they own the place, carrying lunchboxes with pictures of the Teletubbies for goodness sake.
As Ford sets a stack of paperwork on the desk to his left, Simon is quick to respond and knocks the stack over and onto the floor.
Simon: Who are these people anyway? Probably clones built from successful wrestlers who came before them. Whoever these people are, they obviously have no idea how to maintain a good skin or hair care regimen, let alone a respectable appearance. Why oh why do they have to put their filthy little hand out for me to shake? I know they're there, yet they do it anyway. There they are, just standing right in front of me stealing my clean air. I shouldn't have to acknowledge their presence with that greeting. I may wear my sunglasses at night, but I'm not blind. I remember a "hello" or "how's it going?" was appropriate, though suddenly in the year 2002 we have to make human contact now?
Ford and Rob looks on as Simon proceeded with his spiel.
Simon: Anyway, being the nice guy that I am, I shake these people's hands with a smile on my face in hope that sooner or later, this personal hell which has been brought upon me will cease to exist. Then, just when I think I've been done shaking hands with these people, a whole new shipload of individuals come in. Is there like some kind of factory where these wrestlers are being produced daily? Because if there is, I would like to
Rob: I know a place where they make sporks. They're combination forks and spoons.
Rolling his eyes, Simon moves on, shielding his vision from Rob with his hand.
Simon: Plus the names...oh the names. Apparently, in order for someone in the IWO to be "with it" like I certainly am, your name has to sound like either a vitamin supplement or the audible noise that emanates from my mouth as I throw up. Do you think these people are going to help the IWO?
Ford tries to respond, but is cut off by Seaman.
Simon: You're impossible. I thought you'd listen to me, but I guess I was wrong. Does anyone listen to anyone else anymore or do I have to go to Oprah and Dr. Phil for my problems now? I can't believe I'm being treated like this. I'm the most photogenic wrestler the IWO has ever seen, I dress better than anyone here and I even have a little thing called common sense. Not that any of you have heard of it before, but yes I do indeed have it. Take a look at me and take a look at the rest of them. You want to know the difference between them and myself? I can look directly at myself in the morning without having to go blind from sheer terror. I can look at myself not ashamed of the things I have done in the past. You think anyone else in the IWO can do that?
Getting all riled up, he starts to pace back and forth while continuing his speech.
Simon: I'm the most influential wrestler in this company. Why is the IWO not treating me like one? Here, let me tell you the things I have done to prove to you just how good I am. I'm so influential that I took Kris Kross and threw them off a building...backwards. They made me jump, jump so I made them jump too. I'm so good I took New Kids on the Block and left them on that very block until they were transformed into the Old Kids sitting on the curb near a Starbucks and another Starbucks. And Debbie Gibson...well I kicked her off the face of the earth, didn't I? So what does Simon Seaman get in return for doing these noble acts of community service? Zilch.
Simon tries to continue, but is stopped by Rob who spoke up to him.
Rob: You know what? I'm sick and tired of you complaining about how Simon Seaman isn't getting this and isn't getting that when the obvious problem for the IWO is the lack of midgets. Ford, permission to annihilate this individual with my thrust rays of doom. I want to teach that midget hater a lesson. Look at that midgetist... discriminating against midgets like that. Takes a tough guy who lost twice in one night be like this.
The threat gives Simon a good laugh as he backed away for a moment, pretending to be scared.
Simon: Whoa, watch the language for a second. I wouldn't want to wash your mouth out with soap or an actual intelligent remark for you to say. That would be just wrong, right?
Leaning against the desk, Simon lowers his voice.
Simon: Now I didn't "lose" to Jack Breaker or Harold Hash at May Mayhem. Hash gave me money in return for his victory so he could look good in front of his three fans. I bet you didn't know that either. Plus, Jack Breaker did not beat me. The slippery surface defeated me and the IWO is just lucky that I didn't sue for harm caused in a improper work environment. Guess how many injures I sustained. Nevermind, I'll just tell you. You know how many injuries I sustained? Ninety and I'm not happy about breaking my ear bone. That's for sure.
Ford: I have a lot of work to get to tonight, so Simon, what do you want from me?
Simon: You know what? Forget it. This is just a lost cause. I thought you two would understand what I've been going through. Heck, I'd thought that after all this time being loyal was going to pay off for me, but I guess not. Maybe the fact that having Schitzo Tod as IWO champion and having your greatest asset to the company go to waste is more your cup of tea. Whatever, be my guest. I've got better things to do than being ignored.
Walking out of the office and slamming the door behind him, Ford makes his way in front of his desk to pick up the papers off the floor, getting Rob over to help him.
Rob: So, what's up with Seaman?
Ford: I don't know.
Rob: I think he likes you...
Kestler elbows him in a "go for it fashion" as Ford glanced at Rob in disbelief before returning to his desk, neglecting the rest of his paperwork and leaving them on the floor.
World Heavyweight Championship
Schitzo Tod -c- vs. High Flyer
GP: Well, High Flyer gains a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship...
JT: Maybe he should just give up?
GP: Well, he has had numerous shots at the championship on prior occassions. He even retired at Fear the Darkness after losing to Simon Seaman. Then again, it seems every shot Flyer's gotten, he's been out dooped by someone. Always the center of controversy around Flyer and the World Championship.
JT: What do you mean by that!
GP: Well, Flyer defeated Psycho Jay via DQ after Vincent hit him with a glass dildo. Flyer lost to Evan Levine after the same manuver. Flyer beat Gunnar Smith, only to lose to him moments later. And last year at Fear the Darkness, Flyer was dropped onto a steel chair by Seaman with his own Cold Snow.
JT: Well, he doesn't really have any vendetta right now, and Tod is nothing but a paper champion.
GP: What are you talking about? Have you not seen Tod defend the championship at May Mayhem against Nuke? Didn't you see him pin Simon Seaman TWICE, once to win the championship, another time in the Spiral Tournament. Have you been just completely stupid as of late to what Schitzo Tod has accomplished?
JT: See, I really don't care what he does. He still sucks.
GP: Great sense of ignorance there JT.
JT: Thank you... wait... is that a bad thing?
GP: Do you care?
JT: No, not really.
Meygon stands in the ring. She has her trademark nothing on.
Meygon: This next match, is the main event, and is for the World Heavyweight Championship!
More Hoots than cheers, "Loco" by Coal Chamber hits the pa system causing the fans to rise in attendance.
Meygon: Introducing the challenger, he currently resides in Los Angelos, California, and weighs in at 93 kilos. He is one of the most storied wrestlers in the promotion today, being the first Grand Slam Champion, and having numerous memerable matches. He is accompanied to the ring tonight by his wife, Kate Young-Harmen, here is High Flyer!
White pyro shoots up towards the arena skylight, making an entry way as the arena is now illuminated. Flyler walks between the two strands of pyro, raises his hands to the crowd,and makes his way down towards the ring with his wife standing by him each moment of the way. He slaps the hands of a few fans before sliding into the ring.
Meygon: And now, his opponent. He hails from Long Beach, California, and weighs in tonight at one hundred and fifty seven pounds. He's been overlooked as a competitor for so long, and now has made good on the shot he's been given. He is the current, IWO World Heavyweight Champion, Schitzo TOD~! *Mumbles* Man, who writes this long winded crap.
"Date Rape" by Sublime cuts off Loco, as Flyer takes immediate gaze to the entrance. Schitzo Tod walks out from the back, World Title slung on his left shoulder. It can be a considerable strain, since his entire body is leaning that way as he walks. Slowly, Tod makes his way to the ring, and climbs up the steel steps. He turns to the crowd, and raises the championship high for all to see, inciting a chorus of cheers. Tod then climbs into the ring, and hands the referee the championship.
GP: That's what this match is for. That's what this business is for. These two men have fought and slaved for a shot, a SHOT to win that championship. Jack Breaker outlasted thirty nine other men on top of a scaffold in order to get a chance, a glimmer of seeing that championship.
JT: And now you can see why it bugs the hell out of me that Tod has the championship. He doesn't deserve it! He only got his shot by a fluke mistake by Seaman!
GP: Well, Seaman did hit Tod, even though Seaman had no problems with Tod before that tag team match.
JT: What? What the hell are you talking about Greg? I'm talking about how Tod was allowed to be born.
*Ding, ding, ding*
Tod and Flyer begin to circle one another, as the referee clears out of the middle. Flyer reaches low trying to pull Tod down to the mat, but Tod's able to back up quickly. Tod goes for a leg sweep of his own, but Flyer's able to scout it, side step, and lock Tod around the waist in a side gut wrench position. Flyer lifts Tod up once, now twice, trying to focus on what seems to be Tod's ribs, before dropping him face first on the canvas.
Flyer rolls over to his side, pushes up off the mat to get to his feet, but instead of landing, turns his body and the recovering Tod in the side of the head. Tod rolls back to the mat, face first looking up to the sky. Flyer dove on for a quick cover.
Tod kicks out quickly, as Flyer immediatly climbs on top for another cover, this time hooking the leg.
GP: Tod gets his shoulder up quick!
JT: Seems like Flyer's looking to take the title off of Tod quickly. ABOUT FREAKIN' TIME!
Suddently, a mass of Gay porn falls from the arena ceiling and lands on JT. JT immediatly freaks out.
GP: I told you you shouldn't use the AWS Commish(also known as Dictator)'s word.
JT: Shut the hell up Parker.
Tod attempts to regain himself to his feet, but Flyer hooks his head in a headlock. Tod tries to fight out of it, but Flyer wrenches it in further, driving Tod back down to the mat, face first. Flyer, with the headlock still hooked in, uses his legs and brings them forward, hammering Tod's shoulder and neck with vicious knee blows. Tod swings his shoulder underneath the next knee that comes his way though, and is able to use his now positioned advantage to stand up from the canvas, and drive Flyer into the nearest corner with his shoulder.
GP: Tod's still firing back. This kid's got no quit in him.
JT: See, you called him a kid! He's not worthy of being World Champion!
GP: Well, Tod is only eighteen JT. He joined the IWO when he was sixteen it seems.
JT: How we let that happen, I can't imagine.
Cut to a picture of John Maples in his office back a few years ago. He has a magazine in his hands folden out, "Lusty Lesbian Ladies." Cut back to the ring, as Tod is hammering Flyer with a few european uppercuts.
JT: BLASPHAMY! TOD IS NOT FROM EUROPE!
Tod rears back and slames across Flyer's chest with a vicious knife edge chop. Before Flyer can grab Tod however, Schitzo Tod leaps up and dropkicks Flyer square in the face. Flyer is sent backwards from the momentum, and almost backflips completely out of the ring. He only stays in by landing in a sitting position on the turnbuckle, but more closer to the edge of the pole.
GP: Flyer's not in a well position right now.
JT: It's Tod, what can he do?
Tod seems Flyer, and how he's situation. He's sitting, not stradeling, but sort of hanging there dazed, his feet dangling and by all rights, should be on the outside. Tod then races towards him, leaping over the top rope, hooking Flyer's head and neck, and pulling him off the turnbuckle, to the outside, and through the announcer's table with a neckbreaker.
JT: WHAT THE HELL! HEY TOD! THE RINGS THAT WAY!
GP: WHAT A MOVE! TOD JUST NECKBREAKERED THE STRADDELING FLYER OFF OF THE TURNBUCKLE AND TO THE OUTSIDE THROUGH OUT TABLE!
JT: AND HE SPILT MY FUCK-... GOD DAMN COFFEE!
Tod and Flyer both lie on the outside of the ring, in the crumpled mess that is the announce table. Neither man seems too quick to move.
"Cyclops Rock" by They Might be Giants plays over the pa system as the fans let out a crazy amount of cheers. Jack Breaker comes out from the back, carrying a small bucket, as he quickly makes his way down towards the carnage.
Jack Breaker: BACK! STAY BACK! That means YOU JT!
JT snarls, as Breaker looks down at the fallen Schitzo Tod. He checks his pulse.
Jack Breaker: We've got a live one!
GP: Well, they aren't dead Jack...
Jack Breaker: Will you stand back and let me do my work!?!?
Jack Breaker slaps Schitzo Tod.
Jack Breaker: Come on buddy! Don't die on me here!
Breaker takes a look over to his side, and catches a glimpse of Flyer.
Jack Breaker: NO! NOT THE SNOW GOD! There's only one way to stop this!
Breaker takes the bucket and dumps the water on the two men. This wakes them up, and Flyer begins to choke on the water, before coughing it up.
Jack Breaker: There, a job well done!
Tod and Flyer slowly get to their feet, as the referee in the ring has begun to play solitare. He must have a short attention span, and didn't get to the ten count because he got bored. Tod holds his back, as he grabs Flyer up from the wreckage, and rolls him into the ring, over the referee's solitare cards, which ruin his game.
Tod rolls in himself, as both him and Flyer are up to their feet. Flyer charges forward, ducks underneath a lariot attempt by Tod, and then bounces off the ropes. Flyer clutches at his neck as he does, but is able to come off with a high side kick.
Tod however, is able to duck underneath it, and hooks Flyer from behind. Tod goes to pull Flyer for a german suplex, but Flyer's too close to the ropes. He grabs them with his right hand, and Tod pulls him backwards, still going for the suplex. Flyer's able to land on his feet, and waits for Tod to recover.
Tod raises his hands after pulling such a dastardly move, before he turns around to see Flyer standing before him. Flyer kicks him in the gut, and then double underhooks him. Flyer lifts him up, attempting to nail his Hypothermia, but Tod's able to fight it. Flyer can't lift him all the way around for his neckbreaker out of the double underhook, but instead, holds Tod upside down in front hof him. Flyer then jumps, and drops Tod in a double underhook piledriver, driving Tod's face into the mat.
GP: Tod may have had Hypothermia scouted, but he couldn't prevent Flyer's quick reversal!
JT: Hypothermia's not that hard to scout Greg. Your limbs turn blue, you're kinda screwed.
Flyer rolls over the dishelved heap that Tod has become, and hooks the leg. It's all but over.
Kickout... I guess "It's all but over" is more true than I thought.
GP: Flyer can't believe it! He knows this kid has heart, but I don't think many people could survive a move like that!
Flyer gets to his feet, a little distraught, before picking Tod up off the mat by his shirt. Flyer grabs him by his neck, and looks to palm him into the mat, but Tod's alble to counter however, hammering Flyer's midsection with a couple of rights, and then catching Flyer with another european uppercut. Flyer staggers backwards, as Tod turns his body around, hooking Flyer from behind and driving him into the mat with a vicious neckbreaker.
GP: Tod is really focusing on the neck of Flyer. Does that mean he's looking to nail Flyer with his reverse DDT Driver?
Tod dives on for the cover.
Flyer's able to get a shoulder up, before Tod locks Flyer in a dragon sleeper. He begins to sinch the hold in harder, hoping to injure Flyer's neck further. He doesn't want to hurt Flyer, but he wants to make sure Flyer doesn't have the strength to kick out, especially after his reverse DDT Driver.
Tod lifts him up off the mat, still hinched in the dragon sleeper mode, and picks Flyer up off the mat. Tod goes for the reverse DDT driver, but Flyer's able to counter, flipping all the way behind Tod, and landing on his feet. Flyer's quick to roll the champion up.
Tod gets a shoulder up, as Flyer and Tod both get to their feet quickly. Tod charges in for a clothesline, but Flyer's able to duck. Tod gets shot off the ropes, as Flyer pulls downwards, tilting Tod up into a tilt-a-whirl. He looks to nail Schitzo Tod with On Deaf Ears, but Tod uses the momentum against Flyer and takes him over in a headscissor, driving Flyer's head and neck even further into the mat.
Flyer gets to his feet, clutching the back of his neck, before Tod tams him. Flyer bounces around, as Tod hooks him from behind, and Drives him into the mat with his reverse DDT Driver!
GP: THERE IT IS! FLYER'S DOWN IN THE CENTER OF THE MAT! THE MOVE THAT HAS DEFEATED NUKE, SIMON SEAMAN, and COUNTLESS OTHERS!
JT: Oh, you can count them, you're just lazy.
Tod dives on top for the cover.
Meygon: Your winner, and Still, IWO World Heavyweight Champion, Schitzo Tod!
Tod's hand is raised in the center of the ring, as he holds the championship high for everyone to see. Jack Breaker slides into the ring, and then holds the champions hand up for all to see.
Then, "Dead Wrong" by Biggie Smalls cuts "Date Rape" off, as Nuke immediatly comes racing out from the back.
GP: HE'S SUSPENDED FOR TONIGHT! WHAT THE HELL IS HE DOING OUT HERE!
Nuke climbs into the ring, as Tod extends his arm for a hug. Tod seemingly doesn't realize that Nuke's ready to pound him to a pulp.
Breaker however, is, as he immediatly dropkicks Nuke out of the ring. Nuke flies to the outside, pounds the apron as he does, and leaves through the crowd. Tod grabs Breaker up from the mat and seemingly asks him why he did that to Bainkey, as Tod just walks away, title in hand.
Breaker stands in the ring confused, as the scene fades away.
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