About Us
Buy Our Stuff!
Heavyweight Title
Inactive Wrestlers

Dolby Jenkins
Old News

Meltdown Preview
Hostile Takeover
Takeover Preview
Title History
Executive Board

Pay Per View
Broken Hearts, Broken Bones 3
Desperate Measures
Desperate Measures Promo
PPV Archives
PPV Idiotesque Rants
PPV Promo Archives

Park Place
Phelen Kell Report

Real Audio
Returning Soon

Year-End Awards
History of the Fed
Hall of Fame

Awards We've Won
Link to Us

Site Map
IWO (Blue)
IML (Red)
IMLČ (Green)
IML3 (Brown)
IWO Indi (2002)


Hostile Takeover

(The infamous IWO logo was shown on the screen. The infamous heartbeat was heard as the logo faded in and out as the infamous blue affiliated with the logo began to drip from the logo itself...because it was infamous. Crowd noise from the American Airlines Arena in Miami, Florida soon took over as we faded to the crowd screaming their heads off like it was "Screaming Your Head Off" day as well as holding their signs up like it was "Holding Your Sign Up" day. The cameras panned through the crowd, uncovering such signs as "Bow Down to Nuke", "TDM stole my visa" and "Oprahberg". Observing the madness that was tonight's Hostile Takeover, the camera cuts to the broadcast table as both announcers looked up and down, side to side, front to back and wherever else there was stuff to see before addressing the Internet audience.)

GP: Ladies and gentleman, welcome to a show that will change your life. Forget about wonderful or thought provoking experiences...because for the next two hours, we will bring you to the edge of your seat, up off your feet, and occasionally to the can. This is Hostile Takeover people and it's going to be something.

JT: As the inoffensive lyrics of the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, also known as Will Smith states, welcome to Miami. Over the Internet and into your homes, it sure is going to be something. This ain't no porn, but we'd like to think of us to be porn's lesser, unintelligent, homely little brother so watch if you must and stay for the free hot dogs.

GP: We've got matches so far up the wazoo that we need a second wazoo to store the rest of the stuff. What a night we have for you fans. The Cruiserweight and North American titles are on the line tonight, but don't forget about the main event. Oh, don't you dare. Tonight, the IWO Extreme Championship will be up for grabs when the champ, Mad Max, takes on Jack Breaker.

JT: Don't even bring Jack Breaker into this conservation, girlfriend. Jack Breaker is in the main event for one reason and one reason only. Why? Because guess who's taking over for our "beloved" president Tom Ford? AWS Commish is in charge tonight and you know what that means? That means trouble with a capital "T" and a "R" and possibly a "Z".

GP: A "Z".

JT: You heard me...a "Z".

GP: Almond Joy's got nuts and we don't, but we have something better. It's HT and we'll be back right after this.

JT: We could have nuts too you know. Peanuts don't count though...

*Cut to commercial break*

(In what looked to be an abandoned factory, a large man began pouring gasoline within the building and lit a match. Dramatic opera music then played as the fire began to spread.)

Voice-over: On August 24...

(The camera followed the trail of fire as it continued.)

Voice-over: Prepare for the worst...

(The music picked up as the flames intensified.)

Voice-over: Because things are going to get a little hot in here as the IWO presents...

(The scene quickly cut to static before a colour bar appeared on the screen. Footsteps were heard in the background as a door was then slammed closed. Moments later, another voice was heard...although less exciting than the last.)

Voice: Did he leave? Where did he go?

(People were faintly heard mumbling until he continued.)

Voice: So that's all we could pay him?

(Long pause.)

Voice: Should I try to call him back?

(He coughed loudly and cleared his throat until he was given a response from another person.)

Voice: Well how are supposed to use this commercial if it's not even finished yet?

(The graphic for IWO Heatstroke 2002 flashed briefly on the screen.)

Voice: Why can't I just read the rest off of the script? What do you mean he took it? Can't someone get it back from him?

GP: We are back and take a gander what we have for you next. The Legion of Dairy, cHEESE and egg NOG versus Jackson Steele and Banderas.

JT: Let me mention before we call this match that the Legion of Dairy might win tonight, but they have no chance against Those Damned Mexicans. You hear me? No chance. You hear me again? NO CHANCE.

GP: I hear you...



("Livin' La Vida Loca" by Ricky Martin hit the speakers as Banderas walked out into the open to a fairly strong ovation and strolled his way to the ring.)

Meygon: This tag match is set for one fall. From Bogota, Colombia...he stands five feet, seven inches tall and weighs in at 188 is...BANDERAS!

(Sliding into the ring, he loosened himself up for the match and awaited his partner to arrive. Without warning, "Titty Twister" by Diesel Boy blasted through the speakers while Jackson Steele emerged from the entranceway.)

Meygon: His tag team partner...from Castle Rock, Colorado...he stands six feet even and weighs in at 216 pounds. Accompanied to the ring by Mr. Bunny...this is...JACKSON STEELE!

(Steele walked up the steel steps as Mr. Bunny positioned himself in the team's corner. As both partners talked amongst themselves, they anticipating the appearance of their opposition. From there, "Sellout" by Biohazard rocked the American Airlines Arena as egg NOG and cHEESE, with YoGuRt behind him, walked down to the ring to a substantial amount of cheers.)

Meygon: Making their way to the ring...from Dairytown, West a combined weight of 439 pounds. With "The Manager of Champions" YoGuRt...egg NOG and cHEESE...the Legion of Dairy.

JT: Well it's the Legion of Dairy...time for me to vomit.

GP: If you want to do it, don't do it here.

JT: And if I do? What are you going to do about it?

GP: Just don't blow chunks, okay?

JT: Sure. How about little niblets?

(LoD set themselves up in the ring as YoGuRt was in their corner. As the two teams looked at each other from their respective ends of the ring, the music stopped and the fans took their seats as both compromised towards which of them would start the match-up. cHEESE took intiative and stayed in a ring while it took quite a long time for their opponents to make a decision. Finally, Banderas entered the ring as Steele took his place on the ring apron.)

GP: This should be interesting. Steele and Banderas teaming together for the first time against this veteran team.

(The match begun with cHEESE and Banderas in the ring. They circled each other for a moment before executing a tie-up. The competitors struggled for the advantage, but it was cHEESE who initially got it with an impressive arm drag. Banderas shot right back up and cHEESE executed another arm drag. A third arm drag was followed up by an armbar submission that kept Banderas to the mat. Once he eventually got up, he countered the maneuver with a wrist lock. cHEESE hooked the top rope nearby to break up the hold and the two were at it again. Banderas went for a tie-up, but cHEESE ducked under and set in a gut wrench. His opponent ran to the ropes and released the hold as cHEESE went tumbling backwards. An attempted clothesline by cHEESE was then ducked by Banderas who bounced off the opposite set of ropes and caught the member of the Legion of Dairy with a flying forearm. Next up, Banderas assisted cHEESE up and whipped him into the ropes and tried a hip toss, but it was countered. cHEESE tried a hip toss of his own, but that was blocked as well. Finally, Banderas was able to spin around cHEESE and pull off a schoolboy pin attempt. The ref would count to one as cHEESE kicked out.)

GP: cHEESE and egg NOG...Legion of Dairy in action tonight...last week we saw cHEESE got a win over Jackson Steele and looks like both teams are ready to go.

JT: I don't even know how can call these guys cHEESE and egg NOG and keep a straight face. Do you have any idea how weird it is to call a match with wrestlers named after dairy products?

GP: I'm used to it. Why, aren't you?

JT: Tonight is a night where I wish I was lactose intolerant. There you have it.

(Banderas didn't let up one bit as he made his way over to cHEESE and whipped him into the corner. cHEESE hit the turnbuckles hard and was charged by Banderas, but he would move away in the nick of time. Banderas hit shoulder first into the ring post before being turned around and struck with several punches. cHEESE got Banderas reeling as he brought him into the middle of the ring and whipped him to the ropes, catching his opponent with a quick powerslam. cHEESE went for the cover, though only got a two count and soon dragged Banderas towards his corner and tagged in egg NOG who came in dishing out a series of three elbow drops on the downed individual. Banderas rose to his knees and was brought up on both feet and struck with rapid knees to the midsection in the corner. He tried to walk across the ring with help from the top rope to keep him up, though egg NOG intervened and connected with a forearm to the back of the head. egg NOG proceeded to whip Banderas into the ropes. Bouncing back, egg NOG attempted to nail a spinebuster slam, but the move was miraculously reversed into a tornado DDT which was met with applause from the crowd.)

GP: Banderas pulled that out of nowhere, didn't he?

JT: At least he didn't pulled it out from somewhere Kansas.
(Banderas regained his composure and instead of tagging Steele, he chose to stay in the match. egg NOG was met with a few kicks to the chest while he tried to get up until he finally able to. Banderas tried to whip his opponent to the ropes, but it was reversed, ending up with egg NOG getting a hold of Banderas and executing a sleeping neckbreaker. Leaving Banderas there for a moment, egg NOG tagged in cHEESE as they double teamed him and pulled off a wishbone. As Banderas screamed in pain and struggled to make it to his feet, cHEESE attacked with more stiff punches while egg NOG was urged by the ref to return to his corner. egg NOG obliged and witnessed his tag partner pull Banderas up by the leg. Hopping on one foot, Banderas glared at cHEESE not knowing what to do next. Suddenly, Banderas tried an enziguri, but cHEESE ducked the move and once Banderas hit the canvas, he then connects with an elbow drop. Jackson Steele tried to cheer his partner on and convince him to make the tag, yet Banderas didn't want to hear what he had to say. Seeking refuge, he went over to the ropes and pulled himself up. cHEESE followed and whipped Banderas to the ropes, but he wouldn't make it back as he hooked the top rope to stop his momentum. cHEESE charged him for an attack, but ended up being vaulted up and over the top rope onto the floor below.)

GP: Nice counter by Banderas, but he should really make the tag to his partner right now. He's been in there for quite a while.

JT: Let him do what he wants to do. If he wants to screw Jackson Steele out of participating in this match, so be it.

(With cHEESE in a vulnerable position, Banderas took a breather and glanced over at Steele who reached out his arm. Neglecting to tag him, Banderas waved him off, bounced off the ropes and caught cHEESE with a baseball slide to the outside. cHEESE was forced back to the security barrier while Banderas put the boots to his opponent. As the two competitors fought at ringside, the ref tried to coax both of them back into the ring, yet to no avail. egg NOG walked along the apron to where to two were standing and at the right moment, he leaped off of it and caught Banderas with a double axe handle. Banderas strived to fight both egg NOG and cHEESE, though was initially prevented from doing so. While Banderas traded blows with the team, Jackson Steele began to grow very impatiently towards his tag partner's actions and soon took his own initiative to get involved. Entering the ring, he waited for the right time to do what he was about to do and more sooner than later, he shot himself off the ropes and executed a somersault plancha onto the three competitors below.)

GP: What a move by Steele! Picture perfect plancha!

JT: He might not be selling sea shells by the sea shore, but at least he's doing something right. No need for alliteration and tongue twisters in this one.

GP: Nothing like the kind and unnecessary words from our resident wise man at our broadcast booth. Sir, you speak things that are just downright compelling.

JT: Indeed.

GP: How can you be so wise?

JT: Here's the trick. Number one, get a cane. Number two, look old. Number three, be wise. It's that easy.

(Steele was the first on his feet and rolled Banderas back into the ring and returned to their team's corner. Slamming the turnbuckle, Jackson yelled at his tag partner to make the tag. Banderas got up on all fours and noticed Steele at the other end of the ring screaming for a tag and tried to make it over to him, but cHEESE was quick to react and hauled Banderas to his own corner and proceeded to strike him in the back with several hard kicks. Awaiting egg NOG's return to the apron, cHEESE would eventually make the tag as the Legion of Dairy would double team their opponent with even more kicks to Banderas.)

GP: The Legion of Dairy are displaying their excellent in-ring skills. They work so fluid and it seems almost instantaneous to them to double team like they have in this match. Obviously they have more experience as a tag team than Banderas and Steele and that's why I believe that team is at a great advantage.

JT: Here's the thing. Sure cHEESE and egg NOG work well as a tag team, but anyone can with co-operation. Simply put, Banderas is not co-operating. Jackson Steele hasn't even received one lousy tag in match, yet there has been how many between the LoD? A thousand?

GP: Nevertheless, you've got to admit that the Legion of Dairy have to win this match. This is sort of like a tune up to you know who. Those Damned Mexicans, Edguardo and Diablo, are waiting in the wings and a lost to these two competitors would not serve right for them at all.

(With Banderas at a great disadvantage, egg NOG and cHEESE lifted him up onto the top turnbuckle. While cHEESE walked over to the ring apron, egg NOG connected with a hard knife edge chop to Banderas. Slowly but surely, he then climbed up the turnbuckles and hooked in what was to be a superplex. Banderas at first wouldn't budge as the power struggle between the two wrestlers ensued, though soon enough Banderas would connect with a forearms to egg NOG's temple. egg NOG started to reel back and stepped down to the second turnbuckle. Realizing that his chance to capitalize on this was now or never, Banderas locked egg NOG in and carried out an enormous DDT that shook the ring and excited the crowd.)

GP: Banderas needs to make the tag. More than ever, he needs to crawl to his corner and get someone fresh into this match.

JT: Jackson Steele is waiting and ready. He's jumping up and down like it's nobody's business, but I admit that I would too if I had to stand on the ring apron for as long as he has.

(The two competitors started to move as the ref began to count to ten. Both Banderas and egg NOG weren't really with it at this point of the match as they were unsure of where to go. Finally, they noticed their respective partners anxiously anticipating a tag from opposite corners of the ring and began to crawl over to them. The crowd got behind both teams as Banderas inched slightly closer to a tag to Steele. With Banderas significantly closer to getting a fresh man in, egg NOG tried to prevent him from making the all important tag and tugged at his leg. As they both rose up to their feet, egg NOG forced Banderas to hop on one foot. Pulling him farther away from Steele, Banderas glanced back at egg NOG and sprung forward and was barely able to tag Jackson Steele. Once Banderas rolled over to the edge of the ring, Steele exploded with knife edge chops, clotheslines, and punches to egg NOG as well as cHEESE, who entered the ring momentarily before being forced back into his corner by the referee.)

GP: Steele with fists of fury right off the bat.

JT: You we have a match-up. Jackson Steele finally gets a tag in a tag match. How ironic is that?

(Steele pounded egg NOG with punch after punch prior to whipping his opponent to the ropes and executing an unbelievably high back body drop. egg NOG got right back up, but was brought right back down to the mat with a hip toss. Another hip toss followed before Steele snapmared egg NOG to the canvas and dropkicked him square in the back. egg NOG reached for cHEESE, but Steele continued the attack. A knee drop to the face of egg NOG left him in a great deal of hurt as Jackson helped him up and whipped him in the corner, connecting with a big splash. cHEESE then tried to enter the ring and attack Steele, but was soon confronted by Banderas once again as he got off several punches and a dropkick to boot that sent cHEESE out of the ring and onto the floor. Steele pulled egg NOG into the center of the ring and signaled for the Bunny Stunner, but egg NOG was able to escape the move as Steele couldn't lock his opponent in his right. egg NOG counted and shoved Steele away from him, though as Steele went forward, he collided with his tag partner and Banderas in turn exited the ring as well once cHEESE pulled down the top rope.)

GP: Unfortunate mistake by the two rookies there.

JT: You got that right. Jackson Steele looks like he had the match one and then that's what happens.

(Banderas violently hit the floor at ringside as cHEESE rolled back into the ring. Staggering around the ring, Steele tried to find egg NOG but was unsuccessful. With the Legion of Dairy waiting in the wings, Steele turned around was nailed with the Sell-Out. The double Rock bottom sent Jackson Steele crashing to the canvas as egg NOG hooked the leg and made the cover. The ref dropped down to make the count while Banderas struggled to get back into the ring. The ref counted one as the fans counted along...then two...and just as it seemed as though Banderas was going to make it, cHEESE made sure it was not to be and kicked him in the head as the ref finally slammed his hand against the mat a third time, signaling the end of the match.)

GP: A Sell-Out from out of nowhere and there you have it. The Legion of Dairy are victorious.

(Jackson Steele laid motionless in the ring while Banderas plopped back down to the floor. The referee then acknowledge both cHEESE and egg NOG the winners of the match-up.)

Meygon: The winners of this match...cHEESE and egg NOG...THE LEGION OF DAIRY!

(They gradually rolled out of the ring as YoGuRt came along with them, on their way to the back.)

GP: Males and females, we'll be back after this, but don't you go away now.

JT: Erik Blake versus Schitzo Tod for the North American title...Mad Max versus Jack Breaker for the Extreme title...and whole lot more...maybe I'll do a dance for all y'all. Who knows?

GP: I don't want to. That's for sure.

JT: What a party pooper. Why do you always have to poo on parties?!

GP: I can't believe you just said that.

JT: I can't believe it's not butter isn't really butter. What's your point?

*Cut to commercial break*

(At the express lane of a supermarket, a pimply faced cashier lazily scans a customer's items through, neglecting to even look at what he's doing. Appearing absolutely bored with a blank stare on his face, he continues to ring them while someone is heard on the PA system.)

PA system: Clean up on aisle four...clean up on aisle four.

(The cashier attempts to scan a carton of eggs, but it doesn't go through. Eventually, the problem gets his attention following several failed tries. Bewildered towards what was happening, he tried it once more until a horde of wrestlers began battling on the conveyor belt. Not knowing what to do, the cashier allowed them to fight as they past him and fell to the floor below. Surrounding customers curiously looked on as the boy stood there holding the carton. Following the incident, he got on the PA system himself and spoke.)

Cashier: I need a price check on four muscular, sweaty dudes in their underoos.

(Awaiting any sort of response, he became restless after a while and rolled his eyes.)

Cashier: And don't make me look for the barcode...

(With everyone in the store observing what was happening with great interest, the cashier simply stood in one place and glanced at his watch.)

Voice-over: The Internet Wrestling Organization. Not quite wrestling, not quite organized, but at least we got one out of three right.

vs. --------------------------------------------------------------------

GP : Well, this next match doesn't really make a whole lot of sense unless our bookers hate Daze or something.

JT : Everybody hates Daze.

GP : I don't.

JT : Yes you do. You just don't know it. Just like how blind people can
really see, they're just too stupid to open their eyes.

GP : Um, I don't think that's true!

JT : Sure it is. And in case any blind people are watching, Greg just said that, not me. Heh heh, like they can see the difference.

GP : I think they can tell our voices apart!

JT : Man, you really love defending those morons.

GP : (Sigh) Forgive my colleague. He's an idiot. As I was saying, Donnie Daze has to fight both members of Those Damned Mexicans in a handicap match. Which means he'll lose. So let's get to the ring and get this one over with.

Meygon : The following handicap contest is set for one fall, blah blah blah ... Introducing first, hailing from Port St. Lucie, Florida ... standing at 6'3" and weighing 215 lbs. ... the master of the Dazed and Confused ... DONNIE DAAAAAAAZZZZZZE!!!

("Geronimo" by Unwritten Law plays as Daze walks out from backstage, shotgun in hand.)

Daze : I'm gonna kill me some spicks! Yeeee-haw!

(OK, that didn't really happen. But wouldn't it have been weird? Daze really walks out and storms down to the ring, looking pissed off that he has to fight in a handicap match for no readily apparent reason.)

Meygon : And his opponents ... hailing from Tijuana, Mexico ... both standing at 6' and weighing a combined weight of 430 lbs. ... the masters of the EMP, and a whole whole lot of other tag and individual signature moves ... THOSE DAMNED MEXICAAAAANNNNNNSSSSS!!!

("Self" by American Head Charge plays as TDM walk out from backstage, along with Captain Obvious, who was forced to leave the World's Most Ridiculous Hat backstage for the well-being of the audience. Both members of TDM slide into the ring and charge Daze as the bell rings.)

GP : TDM are starting this match off right now!

(Diablo and Edguardo go for a double clothesline, which is ducked by Daze. He turns and dropkicks Edguardo, then rolls to his feet in time to block a punch from Diablo and nearly take his head off with a strong forearm. Edguardo comes from behind and hooks Daze for a reverse DDT, but Daze twists his body around and throws him off with a northern lights suplex. Daze gets up and turns around to meet a Border Kick from Diablo. Edguardo retreats to the apron as Diablo continues the punishment by stomping on Daze's upper body.)

GP : The numbers game quickly catches up to Daze.

JT : Well, yeah, if you can't count, how do you expect to win the numbers

GP : ...You're an idiot.

(Diablo waits for Daze to get to his feet and plants him with a DDT. Diablo then drops a leg across Daze's throat. He picks Daze up and whips him into the ropes, leaping and taking him down with a hurricanrana on the way back. Diablo takes slightly too long to taunt the crowd before going to meet Daze, who suddenly springs to his feet (but not like the Rock, because that would just conjure up bad memories of Rock matches) and knees Diablo in the gut. Daze whips Diablo into the turnbuckle and arm drags him as he comes staggering out. Diablo rolls back to his feet and is dropkicked back down by Daze. Diablo rolls over to his corner and tags in Edguardo, who comes charging in to be knocked down by a right hand from Daze. Edguardo pops back up and gets punched down again, and then this happens one more time for good
measure. Daze maneuvers around behind Edguardo to go for the Dazed and
Confused (reverse facebuster), but has his foot grabbed by Captain Obvious. Daze shakes himself free, but the momentary distraction allows for Edguardo to turn back around and knock Daze to the mat with the Happy, Smiling Kick to the Balls. The referee of course misses this, due to the fact that he's a referee.)

GP : TDM are playing dirty already, despite their two-on-one advantage.

JT : Well yeah, they're TDM. That's what they do.

GP : Good point.

(Edguardo picks up Daze and lays a knife-edged chop into his chest. He
continues doing this (because it seems like a good idea) until he packs Daze up into the ropes. Edguardo then grabs Daze by the arm and whips him into the opposite ropes. Daze flies back with a crossbody that is met by a dropkick from Edguardo, leaving Daze crumpled on the mat gasping for breath.)

GP : What a counter by Edguardo!

JT : Well, the dropkick is basically a good counter for any move where the guy's coming at you real fast.

GP : True.

(Edguardo stoops to pick up Daze once more, but Daze headbutts him in the stomach and then nails him with a facebuster. He lifts Edguardo and whips him into the opposite corner than Diablo is in, then charges with a clothesline, but Edguardo ducks and dives across the ring to tag in his partner. Diablo springs off the top rope for a springboard hurricanrana, but Daze backs up a step and brings Diablo down quickly onto his knee for a brutal inverted atomic drop. Diablo's eyes roll back as he collapses to the ground and Daze covers.)




(Edguardo saves just in the nick of time, then retreats back to the apron.)

GP : Damn it! Daze almost had this match won right there!

JT : Yeah, yeah, cry me a river. He should've known Edguardo would save his partner.

(Daze gets up and rushes Edguardo's corner, knocking him off the apron with a clothesline. Daze then ascends the top rope and waits for Diablo to get to his feet. When that happens, Daze jumps with a top rope clothesline, which catches Diablo in the face. Daze covers once again. However, the referee is distracted by Captain Obvious, who had the World's Most Ridiculous Hat with him all along, and took this opportunity to put it on. The ref stares, mesmerized by the ridiculousness of the hat. Daze gets up, bounces off the
opposite rope, and baseball slides Captain Obvious in the face, knocking the hat off his head. Daze gets up from the slide and turns around into a Panty Raid (Sky High into a Stunner) from Edguardo.)

GP : Oh come on, he is not the legal man! Why doesn't the ref stop this?!

JT : Because he's standing in the corner with his eyes closed and his fingers in his ears while humming.

GP : Man, I wish they'd tell refs not to do that all the time.

(Daze is picked up and hit with a Green Card (fireman's carry flapjack/DDT). Diablo goes over to the ref and gains his attention as Edguado covers Daze.)

JT : Well, looks like this match is over.

(Suddenly, the pregnant Bungle rushes down the rampway carrying the Big Book of Baby Names. He rushes up the steel steps and steps into the ring, bashing Diablo and then Edguardo over the head with it. The referee calls for the bell as the fans don't really know whether to cheer, boo, or go get some food.)

GP : Um ... well ... would you look at that?

JT: I'd really rather not. Bungle's maternity clothes don't leave much to the imagination.

GP : JT, it's a guy in a bear suit.

JT : So? It's still true.

GP : Um ... yeah. TDM takes this one by a DQ win, or something, due to
Bungle's random interference. Let's just go to commercial break.

*Cut to commercial break*

(In front of a black wall stands a muscular man, decked in full karate attire alongside his assistant. Canned applause is faintly heard as they bow to the camera.)

Commentator #1: This might be a long shot, but do you think he can pull if off?

Commentator #2: I believe so and let me tell you why. What he is about to attempt here is one hell of a difficult feat. Some speculate that what he could be going for here is larger than say, the jugular or a kitten caboodle, though I think he has enough poise and concentration to make this one count.

(The assistant drops to one knee and presents to the man a large piece of wood with "COMMERCIAL" written in bold. Taking a fighting stance, the man takes a deep breath and prepares.)

Commentator #1: Here we goes.

(With the edge of his hand, he easily breaks through the piece of wood before he is graciously applauded for a job well done. Both individuals bow to the camera as bouquets of roses are flung in their direction.)

Commentator #2: Excellent break! Pure genius!

Commentator #1: That's going in the record books. That's for sure.

(The scene fades out as Hostile Takeover returns.)
vs. ---------------------------------------------------------

"Cyclops Rock" blared as Jake Walker came to the ring to a huge pop, given the fact that he's someone not named Daniel Phillips.

Meygon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is for the IWO Cruiserweight championship, and it is scheduled for one fall! Making his way to the ring...from New Orleans, Louisiana, weighing in at two hundred and twenty-four pounds... JAAAKKEEE WALKER~!

Walker entered the ring and waited for his opponent. "Cyclops Rock" faded, bringing about his opponent's theme song.

"Downfall" by TRUSTcompany.

The very opening of the song, the symbols and the blast of distortions, brought about the full, undivided attention of the fans, and also gave many fans some time to ready the garbage.

What occured next was not expected.

Daniel Phillips came out, title around his waist...

...on CRUTCHES?!

GP: What kind of BULLSHIT is this?!

JT: It's obvious! Daniel was in a car wreck!


JT: Yeah! Ten car pileup! Daniel managed to save a bus full of school children with one leg! It's the truth, dammit, you can read about it in the paper tommorow.

GP: Daniel wouldn't save his own *mother* from a flaming school bus.

Phillips entered the ring and asked for a microphone.

Phillips: You're fucking lucky, Walker.


Phillips: Do you think I wanted it to be like this? No. I wanted to come out here, give these peons the five star match they truly bought the tickets for, and *kick your ass*. But noooo, I have to come out here, half of what I was.

GP: Half of nothing is still nothing, Danny.

JT: Shut up.

Phillips: So Walky, it looks like you're getting off... *light*. You won't have to fight me. You won't have to be humiliated tonight. You won't have to spend a night in the hospital, wondering what exactly went wrong after I beat the fucking hell out of you. No. Because I'm in no condition to face you. So, you're lucky tonight, Walker. But what do you think will happen when I face you for real, after my wounds are healed? It's simple. I'll *kill* you.

More booing.

Phillips: So, why don't you sit back, relax, and go fuck yo-

Phillips didn't finish, as Walker charged Phillips and speared him into the corner.



Walker continued to drive shoulders into Phillips' midsection, before going for the Purple Haze. However, as Walker lifted him up, Phillips flipped behind him and landed on his feet. He then picked up a crutch.


Walker fell over like a ton of bricks.

Phillips picked up the Cruiserweight title and walked over to Walker, who was still down.

Phillips: Fuck you. FUCK YOU. You think you're all that just because you're Breaker's partner? FUCK YOU. You're nothing. NOTHING. Nothing to me, nothing to these "fans", nothing to anyone! You'll always be a nobody, Walker! A *nobody*.

Phillips turned to leave.

"Three Point One Four" hit.

Daniel stopped in his tracks.

Phillips: What in the FUCK do you want?

AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) looked around, before he looked at

AWS Commish (also known as Dictator): Well, I was freakin' looking around today, and I figured "what the freak isn't an IWO show without freakin' AWS Commish (also known as Dictator)"? Then it freakin' came to me that it wouldn't be all that and a freakin' bag of chips. Actually, I'm not even sure what's so freakin' great about the bag of freakin' chips, anyway.

Phillips: What the frea- er, what the FUCK does that have to do with anything?

AWS Commish (also known as Dictator): Well, if I freakin' remember right, most Cruiserfreakinweight title matches are two-out-of-freakin'-three falls. Well, you just freakin' lost the first one by Dairy freakin' Queen.

JT: Dairy Queen?


JT: Oh.

AWS Commish (also known as Dictator): So, I'd freakin' advise you to turn the freak around.

Phillips turned around.

The other crutch made contact with Phillips' head, courtesy of Walker. The referee missed it, but it was a moot point since Phillips was down and Walker was ahead on points. Walker fell on top of Phillips and hooked the leg.




*ding, ding, ding*


Phillips stared up at the celing in shock, as the referee picked up the fallen Cruiserweight belt and handed it to Walker. Phillips quickly got to his feet, picked up the other crutch, and tried to smash Walker with it, but Walker rolled out of the ring before he could make contact. This left the stupid referee, who immediately took a shot to the face, followed closely by the Perfect Halo.

JT: The INJUSTICE of it all! Phillips was SCREWED!

Phillips picked up the microphone.

Phillips: Very fucking funny. I suppose next, you're gonna juggle some penguins to entertain the six year olds in the audience. Well, fuck that, AWS Commish.

A gasp in shock is heard, as you never want to call AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) as "AWS Commish", "Dictator", or "The Guy Who Says Freak A Lot".

Phillips: I'm not going to tolerate being in a federation run by your utter stupidity. I'm not going to tolerate a federation that allows a misogynic stoner to run a card. I'm not going to tolerate a federation that doesn't even have a fucking television deal and has to run their shows on a website that only three geeks with their cable modems even bother watching. So you know what? I quit. I'm gone. I'm out of this hell hole.

Massive pop.

Phillips: Yeah, you cheer now. You go on and you cheer. Because I won't be back. I'm sure you're fucking thrilled. But you won't be rid of me. Oh no. I'll turn up again. Somewhere. Somehow. So why don't you just all sit back, relax, and go fu-

Phillips' microphone is killed. Phillips tossed it down in anger, as AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) raised the microphone to where his mouth should be from his paintball mask.

AWS Commish (also known as Dictator): Are you freakin' finished? Because I think I can give you a freakin' going away present. I mean, I don't freakin' really want you to go away empty freakin' handed. That just wouldn't be freakin' nice. So, if you would kindly freakin' turn your attention to the front row behind you, we can freakin' give it to you.

With that, Daniel turned around. He was confronted by three midgets, who immediately latched onto Daniel's legs and started humping. Daniel was obviously not happy with this, so he picked up a spare crutch and started to beat the midgets away. Finally, Daniel left the ring in disgust, yelling obscenities all the way out of the promotion.

The fans sang "Nananana, hey hey hey, goodbye" on his way out.

JT: I think it's obvious what's going on here.

GP: Oh, enlighten us. Please.

JT: Daniel doesn't NEED the Cruiserweight belt. He's way to good to hold such a terrible belt like that. He's above the whole division.

GP: That's one way of looking at things.

JT: Seriously, do you think Jake friggin' WALKER has even a quarter of the talent Daniel has? Ha!

Daniel slowly made his way back up the ramp and backstage. Walker was dancing on the turnbuckle, belt over his shoulder, as "Cyclops Rock" once again blared throughout the arena. He turned to the crowd just as Jack and Aubrey Breaker made their appearance in the ringside area, fighting through the crowd to celebrate with Jake. From the ringside area, Jake procured a microphone, and he settled into the middle of the ring to address the crowd.

Jake: Well. I think you know what this calls for! Will everyone in rows one through five please file out to the parking lot in an orderly manner? I'm taking you all out for ice cream!

The crowd roared as Jake pulled a credit card out of his pocket.

Jake: Courtesy, by the way, of Daniel Phillips's Visa card!

The crowd popped once more. Because, you know, free ice cream is free ice cream. The first few rows began to exit the arena as "Cyclops Rock" followed the Deadlier Sins up the ramp.

*Cut to commercial break*

(Outside a fairly old building stands a man with a cowboy hat and sequin cow print shirt. Country music started to be played by two people in the background with a banjo and cow bell in their possession. With the music playing, he looked down at the pieces of furniture surrounding him and smiled to the camera.)

Man: If you're someone who doesn't like to sit on the floor like I do, I suggest you mosey on over to Cowboy's Furniture for all your furniture needs.

(Continually pointing to the camera for no apparent reason, his monotone voice was heard yet again while the music played on.)

Man: We've got sofas, recliners and a bunch of other stuff too. If you like them fancy materials like leather, polyester or plastic...we've got just the thing for you.

(He pointed up at the sign above him.)

Man: So come on and get to Cowboy's Furniture as soon as you can. Heck, you can even meet me...Cody Cowboy and all my friends. It's easy to find too. On the corner of 165th Street and 98 Avenue in Hoboken, New Jersey, also known as the Cowboy Capital of World, us cowboys need a place to buy things for our living and now we finally have one!

(He dropped down and picked up a large plate of shrimp and displayed it for all to see.)

Man: And remember, from now until the end of month...if you buy anything at Cowboy's get a plate of shrimp for free! Who said buying furniture isn't a blast? I sure didn't. Furniture and seafood! If there's ever been a day where you've bought a Lay-Z-Boy and thought to yourself "I could really go for some shellfish", now is your chance!

vs. -------------------------------------

(The scene cut backstage as Ash Robinson was on his way to the ring for his upcoming match-up. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, he was attacked from behind and thrown viciously into the wall. Trying ever so hard to make it to his feet, Robinson was struck in the back with an aluminum baseball bat and shoved to the floor.)

GP: Ash Robinson...well Ash Robinson versus Nuke is supposed to be next but...

JT: What the hell is going on?

(Attempting to regain his composure, he was helped up by the attacker and pushed into a stack of chairs at the end of the hall.)

GP: Who's doing this?

(With Robinson down and motionless on the ground, the camera slowly panned up to reveal none other than Nuke. Looking on at what he had just done, he shook his head and left the scene before any help could arrive.)

JT: It's Nuke! Nuke did this!

GP: I can't believe him...why?! Robinson has no beef with Nuke. Why would he do this?

(As the scene faded out, the camera zoomed in on Robinson, face down on the ground, being tended to by a couple of IWO officials.)

*Cut to commercial break*

(The camera focuses in on two bathroom stalls as text reading "The Regular Fan vs. The IWO Fan" is shown at the bottom of the screen.)

Voice-over: Observe a regular wrestling fan.

(To the left, "The Regular Fan" walks in and does his business, flushing the toilet and leaving the stall in a very uneventful moment.)

Voice-over: Observe a fan of the IWO.

("The IWO Fan" enters the stall on and left and stands there for a good moment. After flushing the toilet, streamers and confetti fall from the ceiling as a siren goes off above him. Looking very puzzled, he zips up his pants and stands there for a second until everything stops. Taking a deep breath, he walks out of the stall relieved. Almost immediately, the same man walks back in again and notices a bunch of prize tickets rapidly unravelling from where the toilet paper should be.)

Voice-over: Aren't you glad we're still around?

(The scene cuts back to the announce table as both of them sit there with surprised looks on there faces.)

GP: Ladies and gentleman, it looks as though the match that was supposed to be next won't even take place here tonight. Nuke has just been attacked Ash Robinson and has high-tailed it out of here. Robinson obviously cannot compete tonight.

JT: You see, Parker, what you don't get is that there's most likely a reason why Nuke did what he did. Maybe to make an impact as our IWO champion or maybe to send a message to the nay sayers out there who never thought he could make it. Nuke never wastes an effort and you just witnessed it. Nevertheless, that attack will probably be one of many to come and let's just say that, in my opinion, it's not going to stop right there. As long as Nuke is champ, expect the worst.

GP: We'll be right back. We need to get some things in order

vs. ---------------------------------------------------------

GP: Now it's time for Schitzo Tod against Erik Blake! If Tod wins this match, he will be the third ever IWO grand slam champion!

JT: And even better news then that: Whatever the outcome, Schitzo Tod quits the IWO!

GP: Why do you have to be so mean?

JT: I don't know, but your mom likes it... In bed.


Meygon: Introducing first, weighing in at... Oh, who gives a fuck... ERIK BLAKE!

(Erik Blake's music hits, as he walks down to the ring, the North American title in hand. The crowd boos, not because Blake is a heel, but because he reeks of cheese.)

Meygon: And this next guy... Schitzo Tod!

("Date Rape" by Sublime hits as the crowd goes wild! Well, not wild as in "WOOOO!" More like wild as in "Yeah, okay." So anyway, Tod goes down to the ring, because he's cool like that.)

Mills Lane: Okay, I want a good clean fight. LET'S GET IT ON!

GP and JT: Mills Lane?!

Herman Munster: You know what... Nothing that John writes ever makes sense, you know? And Mills... Well, he's just this guy, you know?
Ding ding ding. That's the bling bling bling. That's the ring ring ring. Of the ding ding ding.

GP: It looks like the bell that starts off the match has decided to go "hip hop."

JT: Word.

GP: It looks like JT has decided to go "hop hip!" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I SLAY ME!

JT: Parker... You're stupid.

GP: You know what, JT? I'm sick of you telling me I'm stupid. I'm sick of you telling me I'm no cool. I'm sick of you telling me that you have sex with mother.

JT: You're just jealous, Parker. You're mad that even your own mom won't give you any.

GP: Shut up!

JT: No.

Johnny Shallow: Both you guys can shut up.

GP and JT: Johnny Shallow?!

Johnny Shallow: Yes.

GP and JT: Yes?

Johnny Shallow: No.

(Johnny Shallow leaves.)

GP: Well that was pointless.

JT: Yeah, it sucked a duck!

GP: A big fat one!




GP: YE- Hey... In all this bickering, we've missed most of the match.

JT: Oops. Schitzo Tod gives Erik Blake the TAM (Kick to the shin.) Blake doubles over, and Tod hits him with a Collect Call From Beyond (Double Underhook Piledriver.) He then covers Blake for the count.





JT: Yay. And if you can't tell... That's SARCASM!


(Tod grabs a mic.)

The Audience: YAY!

Schitzo Tod: Hey.

The Audience: WOOOOOOOOO!

Schitzo Tod: Settle down, people. Now, as most of you know, this is my last IWO match... Well, maybe. It's probably my last IWO match for a while, at least. These past two and a half years here at IWO have been great. It's great to have worked with some awesome people like Mad Max, AWS Man (Also Known as Bill), Joey Malone, Mysterious Birdman, Rob Kestler, High Flyer, Tony Davis, Bob Job, and Nuke. It's also great to have worked with all the morons. People like Scott Styles, Erik Blake, Sebastian Crow, and Evan Levine.

The Only Evan Levine Fan In Existence: YOU SUCK, TOD!

Schitzo Tod: I'm glad I could join the ranks of High Flyer and AWS Man (Also Known as Bill) by being the THIRD EVER Grand Slam Champion. I don't know how big of a deal this is to some people, but it's a huge deal to me. I mean, when I first came to IWO I thought I was scum... Which I probably was. In fact, I still am scum. Either way, I loved working here, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. In the words of the late Douglas Adams: So long, and thanks for all the fish.

("Date Rape" plays as the crowd goes wild, again. Well, they all go wild with the exception of The Only Evan Levine Fan In Existence, who is scratching his left butt cheek.)

*Cut to commercial break*

Announcer: If you would like to have your company and or product advertised during a presentation of IWO Hostile Takeover, please call 1-800-IWO-HTAD. Operators were standing by, but that due to the recent cost cuts of the Internet Wrestling Organization, that is not so. Though, there is really no need to worry. Operator is standing by.

vs. ------------------------------------------------

JT: Party people of the year 2002, are you ready to get down and boogie?

GP: What is this...Soul Train?

JT: If only it were, Gregory. I'd be getting my freak on like it was nobody's business.

GP: Tell us something here and I'm sure the viewers would like to know this as well, but how exactly does one get his or her proverbial freak on?

JT: You've just got to have the goods, my man. From there, the world is your oyster. Back that thang up and show it to the world. Drop it like it's hot, so to speak...TO THE EXTREME!

GP: Wise words from a wise man. Anyway, coming up next. It's Mad Max, defending that good ol' IWO Extreme Championship against Jack Breaker. Since my colleague here has taken up most of my time to speak to all of you, let's just get to the match up.

JT: Don't blame me if the people would rather listen to me than you. It's a reflex that most fans just have regarding myself. I can't help it...TO THE EXTREME!

("Cyclops Rock" by They Might Be Giants hit the speakers as the fans slowly rose to their feet in anticipation of what was to the emergence of one Jack Breaker from the entranceway. Slowly but surely, Jack Breaker, accompanied by Aubrey made their way down to the ring to a fairly positive and energetic crowd.)

Meygon: Hailing from New Orleans, Louisiana...he stands six feet, two inches tall and weighs in at 242 pounds. Accompanied to the ring by Aubrey Breaker...this is...JACK BREAKER!

(Breaker marched up the steel steps and into the ring while Aubrey walked around ringside for a bit before finally coming to a halt in Jack's corner.)

JT: Look at this guy. Jack Breaker...if that IS his real name. I don't know if I should call the match or provide the man with some decent food and clothing.

GP: Don't even give me that. You hate Jack Breaker because he gets on your nerves for some reason.

JT: Oh, there's a reason. What's the reason? Well I'll tell you. Because he's Jack Breaker and once again, he gets an unjustified spot in the damn main event. Where's real main eventers when you need them? I think I may need to call Ghostbusters for help...maybe even Captain Planet. At least they would know what to do.

(Breaker's music continued to play while he stood in the middle of the ring awaiting his opponent. The cheers gradually were beginning to die down as Mad Max was nowhere to be seen. Then suddenly, Mad Max made his presence felt as he emerged out from under the ring skirt.)

JT: What's Mad Max doing under the ring? He wasn't under there the whole time, was he? For goodness sake, that's Jack Breaker's home!

GP: Would you quit it with the Jack Breaker bashing? He's never done any harm to you so just stop it for a minute.

JT: Asking me to quit with bashing Jack Breaker is like a kleptomaniac trying to buy something from a store. It's like a nymphomaniac becoming celibate and even pyromaniac putting out his own grease fire. Simply put, it's not going to happen.

(With a chair in hand, he entered the ring and tried to take a swing at his opponent, but Breaker was able to notice him in time and prevent him from doing so. A kick to Max's gut triggered the ref to ring the bell, signifying the beginning of this extreme title match up. The chair dropped to the canvas as Breaker laid in knife edge chop after knife edge chop, received with gasps from the crowd. The chops sent Max reeling into the ropes and with that said, Breaker hastily whipped Max into the opposite set. A back elbow followed by Jack as he then helped Mad Max to his feet and got in some stiff fight hands. Another whip into the ropes was reversed by Max before he decided to taunt Breaker to charge towards him. Breaker did so and Max attempted to lift him up and over for a back body drop, but Jack was able to land with his feet on the apron. Breaker turned Max around and dropped down to the floor at ringside, allowing his opponent to fall throat first onto the top rope.)

GP: Smart move by Breaker there. What a burst of energy he has shown right at the start of the gate.

JT: Come on, Parker. Even I can move as fast as he is, probably even faster. Keep in mind that's when I really need to go the washroom, but still.

(Breaker dragged Max into the ringside area and continued his advantage with a knee a few more punches and a hard whip into the steel steps. Without hesitation, Jack began to search under the ring for weapons, but was attacked by his adversary before he could even get to it. A series of forearms to the back of Breaker sent him down to one knee. Mad Max tried to get a hold of his opponent on tightly with a gut wrench, though Breaker was able to escape. Taking a minute to come to his senses, Breaker ran at Max once again, but whatever move he had planned backfired as Max executed a beautiful spinebuster which sent Jack down and momentarily out.)

GP: Did you hear that slam?! That echoed practically throughout the whole building!

JT: Breaker is in pain and he's definitely hurt and I love it.

(Mad Max sluggishly rolled Breaker into the ring and went for the cover, but the ref could only count to one as Jack kicked out. As he favoured his back, he tried to get back to his feet, but Max knocked him back down again with kick to the side of head off the ropes. Max paraded around to ring to deafening boos before retrieving the steel chair that he had previously brought into the ring. He took his time to walk over to the corner of the ring and wedge the chair between the top and middle rope while not even paying any attention to Breaker. Rising to his feet, Breaker used the ropes to help him stand and made his way towards his opponent. With Breaker charging, Max noticed him in the corner of his eye and sidestepped just in time while Breaker struck the side of his body to the chair. In agony, Breaker tried to get a hold of Max, but was unable to and fell to the canvas. Grabbing the chair and setting it aside, Max then got Breaker into a tree of woe maneuver in the corner. A couple of the kicks stabilized his opposition for the time being. In a vulnerable position, Breaker attempted to protect himself, but it was simply too late once Max clocked him with a strategically placed chairshot to the face while still upside down. Jack crashed to the mat hard and was then hauled to the middle of the ring. Mad Max dropped down for the pin attempt as the ref made the count. Max got a one and two, but surprisingly, Breaker got the shoulder up at the last second to the adulation of the crowd.)

GP: Jack Breaker is still in thing and I never doubted that fact for one second.

JT: These IWO refs these days...can any of them even count to three?

GP: Of course they can. What are you talking about?

JT: Maybe they could've, but now you don't know. Too many ref bumps I guess and I'll leave it at that.

(Max proceeded to exit the ring and successfully located several more weapons. Out from under the ring, he slid a few more chairs, a couple of garbage cans along with a baseball bat, into view. As Breaker got out of the ring to try to get a Max, his opponent plainly shoved him back first into the security barrier. Driving his shoulder into Breaker's gut for the second time, before long he started to argue with a few spectators in the ringside area. The diversion almost worked once Breaker got enough strength to sink in a back elbow into Max's stomach, though Mad Max was quick to react as he hit his opponent with a stiff punch that sent Jack to the floor.)

JT: You know why Mad Max is absolutely dominating this match right now, don't you?

GP: Is it because he's against Jack Breaker?

JT: Ooh, you're smart.

GP: Will there ever be a second of a minute of an hour of a day that you, will in fact, like Breaker?

JT: Don't count on it. I'm not one to like people for just a second. If I like them, it needs to be more than a second. Something more seconds.

(Mad Max walked up the steel steps with baseball bat in hand and posed on the apron for a good moment to bask in the glory of the jeers from the audience, awaiting Breaker to make his way back to his feet. With the crowd firmly behind Breaker and Aubrey looking on with concern, Jack made it to one knee and then tried to assist himself back up. Eventually, Max jumped off the apron with bat in hand, but was struck in the gut with a stiff right. Doubled over, Jack quickly executed a Russian leg sweep to the side of the ring that left his opponent as well as himself in pain. The two tried to recover as they leaned up against the side of the ring.)

GP: I can't believe this. You can't keep this guy down. You take Breaker down and he just gets right back up.

JT: What a stubborn guy, huh? You might think he's tenacious, but no, because you'd be wrong. All this man is trying to do is piss me off.

GP: And it's working so good for him.

(The ref urged both competitors to get back into the ring and began the mandatory ten count until Breaker re-entered trailed closely by his opponent. Jack rose to a standing position and while Max rolled under the bottom rope, he met up with him with kicks to the back. Assisting Max to his feet, Jack attempted to whip him into the corner, but Max countered and sent Breaker violently into the turnbuckles. The impact sent Breaker face first to the mat and allowed Mad Max to rest for a moment before continuing the attack. Soon enough, Max slid out of the ring and dragged Breaker towards the ring post. Seeking to further punish Jack, he exchanged words with the audience before setting up. A valiant attempt to crotch Breaker was initially prevented, but Max tugged at him once more and was finally triumphant. The whole crowd seemed to gasp in unison as Breaker screamed in anguish.)

JT: That right there made my day. And to think, I thought that Breaker wouldn't be entertaining in the main event, yet here he is showing what he has to offer. I'd like to applaud him for this.

GP: You don't deserve to live, you know that?

JT: The fact may be true, but what do we have here? I seem alive. Isn't that crazy?
GP: Crazy isn't the word.

JT: So, if that's not the word, what is? Is Grease the word? Man, that would rule all.

(With many objects at his disposal, Max proceeded to throw a few weapons into the ring for future use. The ones he had previously found were chucked into the squared circle as two chairs and a few garbage cans fell to the canvas. Checking on Breaker for a second, Mad Max would then slide none other than a table out from under the ring skirt to a surprisingly positive reaction. Neglecting to prop it up, he returned the ring instead and caught Breaker with an elbow to the side of his head. Next, Max pulled Jack up and with a knee to the midsection, shoved him into the corner and got in a knife edge chop prior to lifting his opponent up and onto the top turnbuckle. Ascending up the turnbuckles, Max hooked Breaker for what appeared to be a superplex. The first try as well as the second try would fail until Max lost his balance and was shoved backwards to the mat. Jack then headed up to the top turnbuckle, but was abruptly stopped by Max who struck him in the head with a trash can from out of nowhere. Breaker went limp as Max climbed up the turnbuckles and pulled off an enormous suplex off the top that left both competitors down.)

JT: Right there you'll see why Mad Max is the IWO Extreme champ and Jack Breaker is Jack Breaker. Max is sneaky, but he's resourceful and that's what happened to Breaker happens to anyone who doesn't take this individual seriously.

(Max showed signs of movement and inched himself closer and closer to Breaker. He crawled over and hooked the leg for the pin. The ref began to count as the fans backed him up. Mad Max got a one, and a two, but miraculously, Jack Breaker got the shoulder up.)

JT: That's it. Jack Breaker is a robot. He kicked out of that and therefore, that proves he's not human. Don't even tell me otherwise because I'm convinced.

GP: Mad Max has got to be frustrated. After all that, he still can't keep him down.

(Max attacked Breaker with vigorous punches before heading over to the other end of the ring to pick up a steel chair. Holding the weapon up for all the fans to see, he walked over to Breaker and nonchalantly struck him in the back with it. Jack screamed in pain and was hit with a second shot that was louder than the last. Max threw the chair down in the center of the ring and picked up the remains of his opponent. Breaker appeared as though he was dangling from a thread once Max hooked him into a vertical suplex. Positioning himself near the chair on the mat, he lifted Breaker up into the air. Max then tried to finish off the maneuver, but Jack would not budge. Upside-down in the air for almost an eternity, Breaker amazingly countered the move into one hell of a neckbreaker that was square on the chair.)

GP: This guy doesn't quit. He never quits and it looks as though this match-up is never going to end.

JT: With that said, Max better end this damn match. I can't take this anymore.

(The audience and Aubrey as well got behind Breaker as the advantage was now his. The ref started up another ten count, though Breaker luckily sat up at the count of seven. He contemplated going for the cover, but instead opted to exit the ring.)

JT: What are you doing, Breaker? This is a wrestling match. The object of a wrestling match is to make your opponent pin or submit so you will be declared the victor. What you're displaying right here is downright stupidity. No wonder this man lost to Nuke. He doesn't even want to pin him.

GP: Hate to say it, but you're right. As long as Breaker is still with it, he should be going for the cover and ending this one as soon as possible. There is absolutely no way you're going to keep someone like Max down for this long.

(With a glazed over look on his face, Jack Breaker idly grabbed the table and slipped it under the bottom rope while the crowd got riled up. Taking a great deal of time returning to the ring, Breaker eventually did so and went after Mad Max. Max got to his knees and was struck in the midsection with a kick. Slowly rising to his feet, Breaker executed a couple of punches until whipping Max to the ropes. Max reversed and send Breaker into the ropes. From there on, he attempted what was to be a back body drop, but Jack saw it coming and carried out a stiff DDT in return.)

JT: Words from the wise, Mr. Breaker. Next time you take time out of your "busy schedule" to get a hold of weapon...use it.

GP: He'll use. He didn't just throw a table into the picture for decoration.

JT: What happens if he did?

GP: Why would he do that?

JT: Maybe he's an interior decorator on the side. Damn it Parker...I don't have all the answers! I don't know!

(As Max laid there on the canvas struggling to sit up, Breaker dragged the table and propped it up just in front of the corner as quick as he could. Once successful, he walked over to Mad Max who helped himself to a steel chair nearby and stood up. Marching over to his adversary with a purpose, Breaker saw him and instinctually used a dropkick that hit the chair that struck Max in the face in the process. Crashing down to the mat, Breaker hauled him over to the table as the fans stood up in anticipation of what was about to happen. Assisting him up, Jack draped Max onto the table and gradually began to climb up the turnbuckles. With his back turned to his opponent, Breaker scaled up to the second turnbuckle and glanced behind him. Up to the top turnbuckle, he tried to maintain his balance before attempting to turn around. Suddenly, the crowd at ringside were in a commotion as they turned their attention to someone rushing down to ringside from the stands. More sooner than later, they realized who it was and witnessed none other than Simon Seaman jump over the security barrier and leap up onto the ring apron. Breaker was still trying to keep his balance as Seaman ascended and crotched Jack onto the top turnbuckle.)

GP: What's Simon Seaman doing here?

JT: FINALLY! I thought he would never come! IT'S ABOUT TIME TOO!

(Jack tried standing up and was helped up by Seaman who yelled over at Max to get out of the way. Not wasting anymore time as Max rolled off the table and dropped to the canvas below, Seaman hopped up and over Breaker and executed a picture perfect sunset flip powerbomb. The move sent Breaker down violently through the table while the fans started to jeer at S2. Looking at the damage he was responsible for, he spaced out momentarily until motioning to Mad Max to roll to his opponent and make the cover. Leaving the ring the same way he entered it, Seaman made a mad dash for the exit as Max draped an arm over Breaker's chest. Hesitant at first, the ref looked around and eventually dropped to the mat and counted the one, two, three. The moment the ref requested for the bell to be rung, Aubrey made her way into the ring and checked on Jack who was completely out of it.)

GP: I can't believe the nerve of Simon Seaman.

JT: Well believe it for goodness sake! Seaman has returned and it's like Christmas all over again! Stick it to the man, S2!

(The ref retrieved the Extreme Championship and handed it to Mad Max, who later would have his hand raised and be declared the winner of this match-up.)

Meygon: The winner of this match and STILL IWO EXTREME CHAMPION...MAD MAX!

(The crowd began to boo, almost in unison, towards what had just occurred. While Mad Max rolled out of the ring, the ref checked on Breaker who continued to lay in the pile of debris.)

GP: This doesn't look too good.

JT: It doesn't? What do you mean? Come on, Parker! Breaker, for the first time in the match, is down! By who? Simon Seaman! It's a beautiful day in the neighbourhood and a wonderful day for a neighbour. Seaman just made Breaker break in two! Get the camera, Mr. Rogers. We're showing these to the youngins!

GP: You're still a moron. Are you aware that you're still a moron?

JT: Everyday, buddy.

GP: Anyway, we've run out of time here people so for the moron...and myself, Greg Parker, this has been Hostile Takeover. Can we get some help for Jack Breaker? Anyone?

JT: Hold on. I need to get some film. I'll be back in a sec...

(The camera zoomed in on Jack Breaker, motionless yet still breathing, lying on the mat. The referee and Aubrey looked on as they hovered on him with help on the way. The scene soon cut to the backstage area as AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) marched down a large hallway searching for Simon Seaman. Suddenly, Seaman appeared and collided with the commissioner, attempting to exit the building. As he tried to leave, AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) pulled him by the shirt and held him back. Seaman turned to face him with an annoyed look on his face.)

AWS Commish (also known as Dictator): What the freakin' hell do you think you're freakin' doing?!

(Simon thought about it for a minute and glanced at the ground before tilting his head up and blankly glaring at the commissioner.)

Simon: My job.

(Pulling himself away from AWS Commish (also known as Dictator), Seaman smirked and then backpedal his way on out of the arena leaving the commish all alone. Looking over the commissioner's shoulder, Seaman was seen heading out to the door while the scene faded out to the IWO logo that was displayed prominently on the screen.)