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Conspiracy Theory


World Heavyweight Championship
Schitzo Tod -c- vs. Jack Breaker

Conspiracy Theory Match
Simon Seaman, Evan Levine, Erik Blake, & Nuke vs. Harold Hash, Ash Robinson, and the Masked Man dressed as Psycho Jay, & Rob Kestler

Conspiracy Theory Match
World Tag Team Titles on the Line
Those Damned Mexicans & Italian Mobsters vs. Legion of Dairy & High Flyer & ???

Conspiracy Theory Match
If Phillips pins Daze, he's the new Crusier Weight Champion
Donnie Daze, Bossa Nova, Jackson Steele, Josh Klein vs. Daniel Phillips, Tommy Manson, Tommy Kane, Saint Vitus

Conspiracy Theory Match
Banderas, Mike Marchese, Twizzy, & Kyle Kash vs. Impact, Bungle, Tandem, & Bob Job


The scene opens up in the parking lot, the camera pans around where the limousines are parked with the other expensive cards in the distance something is moving towards the camera. As it moves closer you can make out the shape of a bear, that must mean it's Bungle. As it gets closer you can see that Bungle is riding on the back of an elephant, not a person dressed up like an elephant but a real elephant, I would say this is an Indian elephant as it's ears are not that big.

Bungle: Watch out IWO, the bear man has arrived!

Bungle stops the elephant and slides off so he is standing next to it, he looks up at the animal and slaps it on it's back.

Bungle: You just can't beat arriving in style.

Bungle pulls something out of his pocket and sticks it onto the back of the elephant before he walks away, the camera watches him entering the arena before zooming in on the sticker on the back of the elephant that says 'Disabled'.

The scene cuts to one of the many hallways of this building, where a police officer is looking at three thongs laid down on the floor.

One is pink, one is yellow and the last one is white-coloured and cum-stained.

Just then, High Flyer skips along. Upon seeing the officer, the snow-loving guy freezes and puts his hands up in the air.

High Flyer: I swear, officer! I did not have sexual relations with that snowflake!

The bemused officer looks up, and it is revealed to be.. Banderas. IWO superstar and world's worst dresser. Oh yeah, he's Colombian too.

Banderas: HUZZAH? No no, I not police officer! It is me! Banderas!

High Flyer blinks in response, before he folds his arms and stares at Banderas.

Banderas: Yah, I leaving the motel without any clothes. Only wearing my black thong. So I beat up police officer and stealing his clothes! Very cool, yah?

High Flyer: YAH!

And with that, High Flyer makes his escape, tiptoeing ever so gracefully. Banderas shrugs and looks back down at his.. thongs. While drooling like a baby.

Banderas: I think I be wearing the white one! I liking the polka dots on it!

Polka dots? Yeah, rrriiiight. Polka dots.

Conspiracy Theory Match
Banderas, Mike Marchese, Twizzy, & Kyle Kash vs. Impact, Bungle, Tandem, & Bob Job
vs.
GP : We're about ready to get started with our first Conspiracy Theory match of the night, which will be fought under War Games rules.

JT : Yeah, we may as well get the jobber one out of the way.

GP : Hey, these guys aren't all job- Well, alright, they are, but that's still no reason this can't be a good match.

JT : No, the reason it can't be a good match is because the IWO's plagued with irresponsible card writers which mean that the board members have to have a heavier workload when they just want to be lazy and watch porn!

GP : ...What does that have to do with this being a bad match.

JT : I dunno, the match writer's just piss me off, that's all.

GP : Ah ... Um, before this match breaches any more e-fed etiquette, which it just did by saying "e-fed," let's get to the introductions for this match!

Meygon's in the ring. She looks good. You want to have sex with her. But you can't, because you're a loser; plus she's not real, although that reason hasn't always stopped you in the past. You know what I'm talking about, you
perverted bastard!


Meygon : Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest will be fought under Conspiracy Theory rules! The ring will be enclosed by a steel cage. A member from each four-man team will start out the match, and a new wrestler will enter the cage every two minutes, alternating between teams. The team that will have the first man enter the ring after two minutes, and therefore have a one-man advantage for half the time until all men have entered, will be
decided by a coin toss. Once all eight men are in the ring, eliminations can begin. The match is over once all four members of one team have been pinned or made to submit, and the surviving members from the victorious team will move on to the finals. Um, pretty much everybody in this match sucks anyway, so we're not gonna bother with introductions for this one. Everybody who's in this match can just come out now.

Meygon steps out of the ring as the cage begins to lower. The various wrestlers in the match pour out of the entranceway, some looking slightly pissed off that they didn't get introductions. But at least they have a match, which is a rare occurrence for most of them, even if the winner(s) won't stand a chance in the finals. The cage finishes lowering. It has a door on two sides, one for each team. The team of Banderas, Mike Marchese, Twizzy, and Kyle Kash walks to one side, while Impact, Bungle, Tandem, and Bob Job head to the other.

JT : In WCW didn't they used to have two rings for this type of match?

GP : Yeah, well WCW didn't lose its TV deal and have twelve kids to feed and put through college, now did it?!

JT : Valid point...

A referee approaches Impact's team with a coin. He asks them to call it in the air and flips the coin.

Bob Job : Green!

Ref : (Catching the coin and sighing) No, you have to pick heads or tails.

Bob Job : Oh ... I gotcha.

The ref flips the coin again.

Bob Job : Blue!

Ref : (Again catching the coin) That's it, I'm just letting the other team go first.

Bob Job : Yayyyy!!

Ref : That's bad.

Bob Job : :(

The referee walks off as Bob's team glares at him.

GP : Each team now has to pick a member to enter the cage first.

The other team starts to consult about who should be the first guy in, when Twizzy suddenly runs and slides into the ring. The door is closed and Twizzy turns to point and laugh at his teammates. Seeing as it's not really good to go first since you have to be in the longest that way, his teammates don't really care. Meanwhile, Bob Job's team members force him into the ring first. His door is closed as well.

JT : In WCW they used to handcuff the waiting team members to a ring post so they couldn't try anything until they got in the ring ... but fuck that, this is the IWO!

The camera shows midget Nuke standing in front of one team's door, holding a flamethrower.

midget Nuke : ANY OF YOU MOTHER FUCKERS TRY TO GET IN HERE UNTIL IT'S YOUR GOD DAMN TURN, YOU'RE GONNA FRY FASTER THAN AN EGGPLANT AT A CLAN RALLY!!

GP : That was all the more wrong since midget Nuke is black himself.

Midget Nuke suddenly ignites the flame thrower, setting one of Kyle Kash's shoes on fire.

Kash : (Stomping his foot like crazy to get the flames out) I didn't try anything!!

midget Nuke : OH, I CAN SEE SOMEBODY LIKES FRIED EGGPLANT!!

Midget Nuke sets Kash's other shoe on fire, causing him to drop to the ground and roll out the flames. On the other side of the ring, Hampster Man is guarding the door with a taser, which he uses to randomly shock people,
mainly audience members.


GP : Just whose idea was it to have members of Nuke's entourage out here to keep order in this match?

The camera cuts backstage, where AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) is thumbing through a porn magazine. He glances up at the screen.

AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) : Looks like those freakin' Girl Scouts are doing a good job guarding those doors. They didn't have to bribe me with freakin' cookies, though; I would've let them do it anyway. I do love freakin' Girl Scout cookies, though!

The camera shifts to show an open box of cookies laying on the commissioner's desk. The cookies look a little suspicious, however, as most of them have razor blades and various other dangerous objects blatantly sticking out of them, and some aren't even cookies, but tiny plastic explosives with the word "cookie" sloppily scrawled on them. AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) grabs a Samoa with a syringe clearly embedded in it and shoves it into his mask, causing it to crumble and fall to the floor.

AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) : Mmm mmm, that's some freakin' good eaterin'!

The camera cuts back to ringside.

GP : ...You know, it's a good thing our commissioner's never figured out that he can't eat through his mask, or he could probably be in some real danger.

JT : See, nothing good can come from thinking.

Back in the ring (there is a match going on, in case you forgot; I know I did), the bell finally rings as Bob Job and Twizzy advance on each other. Twizzy goes for a right hand, which Bob Job ducks, except he trips right afterwards and falls flat on his face.

GP : There's Bob Job for you.

Twizzy begins stomping on Bob's back, then drops an elbow on the base of his neck. He drags Bob to his feet, takes a running start, and throws Bob into the side of the cage.

JT : Ha! Bob Job's getting annihilated!

GP : Like there's anything new about that.

Twizzy goes to the corner and hops to the top rope, waiting for Bob to get to his feet. When he does so, Twizzy jumps with the Pill Popper (top rope front dropkick) and nails Bob in the jaw. Bob completely oversells it, going flying across the ring and smacking into the cage.

GP : Bob Job really needs to get some kind of offense going here.

JT : Are you sure that's physically possible with Bob?

GP : Umm ... no, not really.

Tandem picks up Bob and whips him into the ropes, going for a forearm on the way back, but Bob ducks and hops onto Tandem's back. Twizzy twirls around, trying to dislodge the miniscule IWO jobber, but Bob holds on tight and begins pulling on Twizzy's right ear. Finally, Twizzy flips Bob over his head so Bob lands hard on his back on the mat. Twizzy again scales the top rope and leaps with a double knee drop, but Bob manages to roll out of the way. He then runs up from behind Twizzy and dropkicks him in the back of the head, knocking Twizzy down. Bob scales the top rope himself, and when Twizzy stands he jumps with a high crossbody, taking Twizzy off his feet. Bob jumps up and performs an Indian tribal dance, then covers Twizzy.

GP : That's the Lucky Pinfall! The Lucky Pinfall! My God, the Lucky Pinfall!

JT : Uh, yeah, too bad pins can't happen until after everybody's in the ring.

Bob Job just sits there, apparently oblivious to the fact that no count is coming. After several seconds, Twizzy throws Bob off of him. Both men get to their feet, and Bob suddenly takes a running charge and barrels into Twizzy's chest, knocking him off his feet. Bob starts kicking, punching, and biting Twizzy.

GP : Bob Job's going crazy on Twizzy!

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

A buzzer rings, and the next person is allowed to come in. That person is Kyle Kash, who midget Nuke lets through the door. As Kash is coming through the door, midget Nuke fires one more blast, causing Kash to leap forward and roll to avoid the flames. He gets to his feet, glaring behind him at midget Nuke. He then walks over to where Bob Job is still spazzing out on Twizzy and kicks Bob in the face, sending Bob sprawling.

GP : Things just got a whole lot worse for Bob Job.

JT : Indeed they did.

Kash starts stomping on Bob, and soon Twizzy gets up and joins him. Soon they pick him up and Kash hits the Too Late (Fireman's Carry into a DDT). After a few more stomps, Twizzy picks him up and nails Screw Loose (Stalling Belly To Belly Suplex).

GP : They're killing Bob Job!

JT : Ehh, it's not like anybody will miss him.

GP : Pen will ... actually, I doubt it.

Having utterly decimated Bob Job, but having no way to eliminate him yet, Kash and Twizzy sit down in the middle of the ring and begins having a tea break.

JT : Uhh ... where the hell'd they get the tea?

GP : This is the IWO. It doesn't have to make sense.

JT : Oh, right.

The two continue to sip tea for about a minute and a half. Finally, they put the tea back wherever the hell they got it from and the next person prepares to enter.

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

The buzzer rings, and Impact is the next one to enter.

JT : Oh, sheezy my neezy! It's Impact, and he be in the heezy!

GP : ...No more of that.

JT : Agreed.

The master of redundant nicknames (c'mon ... the guy's named "The Hollywood Monster" and "The Monster From Hollywood") rushes into the ring and runs over both Kash and Twizzy with double clotheslines. Twizzy gets back up, but he gets taken right back down with a headbutt. Kash gets up and charges, but Impact decimates him with a powerslam.

GP : Impact's kicking ass and ... well, that's about it, since I didn't see him ask anybody their name.

Impact waits for Twizzy to get back to his feet, then kicks him and hooks his arms for Vertigo, his vicious double underhook powerbomb, but he finds himself superkicked by Kyle Kash. Impact staggers backwards, but doesn't fall down.

JT : How come Impact is allowed to be dominant and no sell like that when he never cuts promos or shows any kind or personality?

GP : Because ... um ... he's big?

JT : Of course! That makes perfect sense.

Kash bounces off the ropes and runs at Impact. Impact swings with a big forearm, but Kash ducks underneath and bounces off the other side. Impact tries to grab him upon his return, but Kash slides between his legs and comes up from behind him to lock on a sleeper. After struggling in it a few moments, Impact leans forward, lifting Kash up off the ground, still with the sleeper locked on. Impact stumbles for a second, then begins running backwards until he slams Kash into the cage wall. Kyle releases his hold and slumps to the ground. Impact turns around to find himself on the receiving end of The Twisted Opinion (Corkscrew Superkick to Chest). This knocks Impact to the ground, but doesn't keep him down, as he rolls to his hands and knees and starts to stand, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. He suddenly lunges and begins hitting Twizzy with jabs, preparing for Vigor (Impact hits the opponent with a swift succession of left and right jabs to the face, when he then knees them in the gut, doubling them over and then does a backflip kicking them in the face, and lands on one foot, while the other other hits the back of the opponent's head with a vicious axe kick.), but finds himself low blowed by Kash after the fourth jab.

GP : You know, Impact has the most unnecessarily complicated and unrealistic moves of any of the IWO's jobbers.

JT : Not to mention redundant nicknames.

GP : Yes, the narrating voice already covered making fun of him on that.

JT : Well, I'm sorry if I don't feel like reading the teleprompter~!

Kash and Twizzy perform a double Russian leg sweep on Impact.

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

The buzzer rings, and the next man enters, who is Mike Marchese. He enters the ring, looks at Kash and Twizzy stomping away on Impact, and just shrugs before running and clotheslining down Kyle Kash from behind.

JT : Um ... OK.

Kash gets back up and starts yelling at Mike.

Kash : What're you doing?! You're on our team!

Mike : Well, I didn't think it seemed fair to do a three-on-one assault.

Skip : Mike, you idiot, fight on your own team. Sorry about that, Kash.

Kash : Um ... no problem.

Kash goes back to stomping Impact, and Mike Marchese joins him.

GP : It's three-on-one now on Impact. He doesn't stand a change against that kind of triple-teaming!

JT : Well, cry me a river! He should've thought about that before he named himself Impact, now shouldn't he?!

GP : ...That doesn't even begin to make sense.

Twizzy turns from the beating to look and make sure Bob Job is still down, and suddenly finds himself falling down, clutching his genitals. This might have something to do with the fact that Bob Job just ran headfirst into them. Kash turns to see what's going on, only to receive the same treatment. Bob Job tries the same maneuver on Mike Marchese, but Mike puts his foot up and big boots Bob Job.

JT : I didn't think Mike Marchese was big enough to do big boots.

GP : Well, Bob is only 4'5"!

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

The next man from Bob Job's team comes in : Tandem.

GP : Now come on, that was not two minutes!

JT : Well, in burned-out matchwriter time, it was.

Tandem rushes in and ducks a right hand from Marchese before hooking his arms and hitting him with Internal Blood (Impaler). He jumps up and pumps his arms in celebration, before turning into a double flapjack from Kash and Twizzy.

GP : That team can just not get much offense going in this match. The one-man advantage for half the match has really thrown it into Twizzy's team's favor.

JT : Oh, yeah, TWIZZY's team. The WHITE man. Why couldn't it have been a brotha's team?

GP : Um, one, there aren't any "brothas" on that team. And two, you're not black!

JT : Ohhh, whatever you say, white man! I don't want to give you an excuse to go Rodney King on me!

GP: Oh, you gave me that excuse a long time ago.

Tandem gets back to his feet, and Kash and Twizzy hook him for a double DDT, when all of a sudden, they find themselves caught in double reverse DDTs by the IWO's most fearsome jobber, Impact. Both men elbow him off, though, and hit him with a double superkick.

GP : A lot of double moves in a row from Kash and Twizzy.

JT : That wasn't a complete sentence, Greg.

GP : Bite me, JT.

JT : Point taken.

Both men turn back to face Tandem, but the distraction has given him time to recover. He grabs their heads and bangs them together, then double clotheslines both men into the cage. Mike Marchese gets back up and lifts
Tandem from behind for the Marchese Drop (inverted DVD), but Tandem squirms free and German suplexes Mike into the cage.


GP : Tandem is cleaning house!

JT : It's because he's Canadian and does drugs, which makes him cool.

GP : Um, well, I don't know if that's exactly why he can wrestle, but the boy sure can go!

JT : ...That sounded extremely gay.

GP : ...Yeah, it kinda did there.

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

The buzzer again sounds, and the last man of his team, Banderas, enters the ring. Tandem's eyes light up, as the very man he's been waiting to get his hands on has now entered the inescapable cage. Tandem rushes at Banderas, but the highly effeminate, but possibly not gay Banderas dives out of the way and begins running around the ring, being pursued by Tandem.

JT : Ha! Look at that fag run!

GP : JT, you don't know that Banderas is gay ... and you shouldn't be saying that word. We'll probably get sued by one of those damn fag rights groups. Ha! The only right a fag has is the right to get strung up from a tree, old-school style! And that goes for the Hispanics and all those weirdos in the Middle East, too!

JT sits in shocked silence for several moments.

GP : Um ... I mean, equal rights for all?

JT : Riiiiight.

After several moments of being chased around the ring, Banderas dives to the ground. Tandem slows down, but is unable to avoid getting run over by a clothesline from Impact, which was intended for Banderas. Impact stands still for several moments, trying to understand what just happened, and if he done a good thing or he done a bad thing, which allows Banderas to sneak up from behind and low blow the Hollywood Monster From Hollywood Who's a Monster ... From Hollywood. Banderas then shoves Impact (rather girlily, I might add ... and that's a word if I say it's a word!) into the cage wall, knocking him out.

GP : Banderas is the sole man standing!

JT : Not anymore. It looks like Impact's clothesline was more bark than bite, much like the man himself, because Tandem is back up.

Tandem grabs Banderas by his hair and swings him around into a right hand. Banderas drops to the ground, clutching his face and trying to curl up into a ball. Tandem looks down at him in disgust, then begins stomping his sworn enemy.

GP : This is just pitiful to watch.

JT : I dunno, it's kinda getting me off- I mean, entertaining me in a way.

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

The final man, Bungle, starts enters the ring.

GP : And now that all men are in the cage, pinfalls can finally start!

As he's stepping through the ropes, the man in the bear suit is suddenly shocked in the back of his leg by Hampster Man, that door's guard, who Bungle was apparently hitting on all match. Bungle twitches spastically, then drops to the ground. Nearby, Mike Marchese recovers.

Skip : Go pin Bungle! He's down!

Mike : But he's a bear!

Skip : He's not a real bear!

Mike : So he doesn't want to steal my pik-a-nik baskets?

Skip : No, since you fill them with sardine and plastic sandwiches.

Mike : They're good sammiches!

Mike crawls over and makes the cover on Bungle.

1...

2...

3!

Meygon: Eliminated... Bungle!

GP : And Bungle is the first man to be eliminated, lasting a whole seven seconds.

JT : Just like you in bed!

JT makes a rimshot noise on the desk.

GP : Did you think that up all by yourself, JT?

JT : Na, I had help from my cousins... and the teleprompter.

Damn Straight. Meanwhile, Tandem finally stopped kicking Banderas when he started crying like a 9-year-old girl, and is now brawling with Kyle Kash. Tandem takes Kash's head and tries to ram it into the side of the cage, but Kash blocks and rams Tandem's head in several times. Tandem stumbles back into the Withdrawl (Reverse Russin Leg Sweep). Kash makes the cover.

1...

2...

Tandem is saved by Impact, who is once again up. He yanks Kash up to his feet and short-arm clotheslines him down in the same motion. He again picks Kash to his feet and throws him into the ropes, going for the ImpACTOR (Spinning Jump flip superkick to the neck) on the way back, but Kash slides under. Impact growls and advances on Kash again, but without warning is taken down with Twizzy's ZZZ (Neckbreaker From Top Rope). Kash laughs and points at the fallen Impact, which leaves him off guard to be hooked from behind and hit with Internal Blood (An Impaler) from Tandem. Both Twizzy and Tandem cover their respective men at the same time.

1...

2...

3!

Meygon: Eliminated - Kyle Kash and Impact!

GP : This leaves five men : Twizzy, Tandem, Mike Marchese, Banderas, and Bob Job, who is currently curled up asleep in the corner.

JT : Awww, he's so cute, just like a Chia Pet.

GP : Chia Pets aren't cute.

JT : Well, I guess only a mother could love them.

GP : You're ... a Chia Pet's mother?

JT : Well, only biologically.

GP : Biologically...?

JT : Let's get back to the match!

Tandem suddenly finds himself fending off the attacks of Mike Marchese and Twizzy. He keeps both men at bay with punches flying left and right. He kicks Marchese in the gut, hooks his head, and uses Twizzy as a springboard to deliver a tornado DDT. Twizzy's on him again before he can regain his footing, though, pummeling Tandem across the back. He whips Tandem into the ropes and grabs him by the back of the head on the way back, using Tandem's momentum to throw him into the cage. Twizzy starts choking Tandem by stepping on his neck. He continues this for several seconds, before letting up, allowing Tandem to draw a breath, then stepping back on his neck. Twizzy keeps on repeating this action, keeping Tandem on the brink of consciousness.

GP : Well, Tandem fought valiantly, but it looks like this match is just about over.

JT : Oh, every time you say that, the guy who's losing is about to come back.

Twizzy goes to step on Tandem's neck yet again, but Tandem grabs his leg and trips him, slapping on an ankle lock.

JT : See? Stop saying that!

Mike Marchese runs to leg drop Tandem across the back of the neck, but Tandem rolls out of the way and Mike ends up hitting Twizzy. Tandem then goes and grabs Banderas, who is trying to crawl towards the cage door in hopes of somehow getting out, picks him up, and uses him as a battering ram into Mike's sensitive areas. Both Mike and Banderas drop to the ground, and Tandem scales the top rope. He leaps with the Wings Of The Seraph (Swanton Bomb into pin).

1...

2...

3!

Meygon: Eliminated - Mike Marchese.

GP : Tandem managed to lessen the odds against him! Can he pull this one off after all?

JT : Oh, I think we all damn well know he will.

Tandem walks over to Twizzy, who's staggering around, and throws a right. Twizzy, however, was playing possum, and he shoots his arm up to block the punch, then kicks Tandem in the balls.

JT : Bang! Zoom! Right in the kisser!

GP : That wasn't quite the kisser...

JT: It isn't? Then what was your mother kissing last night?!? BAM~!

JT does another rim shot on his desk. Twizzy tosses now soprano-singing Tandem into the corner and starts laying into him with knife-edge chops. After ten or so, he whips Tandem across the ring into the opposite turnbuckle. Tandem hits with such velocity that he bounces out, clutching his lower back. Twizzy charges with a clothesline, which Tandem ducks and grabs Twizzy for a neckbreaker, but "the Twizz" is able to mule kick him off. Then he sticks his thumbs up and goes "Ehhhhh!" Well ... OK, he doesn't, but wouldn't it have been cool if he did?

GP : No, not really.

OK, fine! Have it your way, with your stupid old smelly regular wrestling match. As Tandem staggers around, about to pass out from repeated shots to his manhood, Twizzy grabs him for the Screw Loose (Stalling Belly To Belly Suplex). He starts to execute the move, but suddenly trips over Bob Job, who was curled up in a ball sleeping right behind him. Twizzy falls backwards, with Tandem landing on top of him. Tandem quickly hooks the leg.

1...

2...

3!

Meygon: Eliminated - Twizzy.

GP : Well, I'll be a deformed half-rooster, half-beach ball's lover! Through a lucky twist of fate, Tandem eliminates Twizzy! And now only he, Banderas, and Bob Job remain!

JT: Yeah, and I don't think Bob Job's waking up anytime soon. And when he does, I'm pretty sure he'll be expecting milk and cookies.

Banderas slowly regains his footing after being victim of the Wrath of Seraph. Banderas takes one look at Tandem, and tried to high tail it out, but Tandem is quick to grab him by his hair. Tandem turns Banderas around, and wraps his arm, which is huge compaired to the smaller frame of Banderas, around his neck. Tandem lifts him up for a chokeslam, but Banderas wraps his legs around Tandem's legs, and hurricaranna's him to the mat. Tandem lands hard on his back, as Banderas looks towards Tandem, and waits for him to get to his feet.

GP: What a counter by the Illegal Mexican Immigrant!

JT: ... How do you know he's Mexican?

GP: Okay, that was just a lame joke.

JT: Yeah yeah, sue me. I'm under tons of pressure.

Tandem gets to his feet in a state of shock, before Banderas catches him with a vicious thrust kick.. well, vicious for him. Tandem lands back first in the corner, tripping over the sleeping Bob Job, which causes him to get to his feet.

Bob Job: WHO WOKE ME FROM MY SLUMBER WITHOUT MY MILK AND COOKIES?!?!

Bob Job looks over towards Banderas and Tandem, as Tandem points at Banderas. Bob Job begins to get angry, and walks over to Banderas, staring him in the eyes... well, as best he can.

Bob Job: A BURRITO~!

Bob Job points to the crowd, as Banderas takes his attention there. Bob Job then rolls him up.

GP: LUCKY PINFALL~! LUCKY PINFALL~!

1...

2...

3~!

Meygon: Your survivors, and going onto the match later in the night, Tandem, and Bob Job!

Bob Job raises his hands in victory, as Banderas climbs out to chase the burrito. Tandem then grabs Bob Job from behind, twists his body, and drops him in the center of the ring with his Internal Blood(Tomikazi Driver).

GP: TANDEM LOOKING TO GAIN A SHOT AT THE CHAMPION!

JT: Well, he's my pick to come in second, to Simon Seaman.... well, third to Phillips. Cuz we ALL know he's advancing. He's just... vicious!

In the backstage area, we see the masked man along with his masked manager who has an enormous masked penis. Some scrub interview guy who got suckered into an internship with the IWO approaches the masked man as he gets a drink from the water fountain.

Interviewer: Hey masked man! I'm Frankie Frank and I've got a few que.....

The masked man spits water all over the interviewers face and clothes, then the masked man's manager bitch slaps Frankie Frank with his massive penis.

Masked Man: Welcome to the IWO kid. Now come masked manager, we must prepare for the Conspiracy Theory match, after which I will reveal to the world the secret of who I am!

The masked man quickly humps Frankie Frank's head and then proceed down the hallway.

Conspiracy Theory Match
If Phillips pins Daze, he's the new Crusier Weight Champion
Donnie Daze, Bossa Nova, Jackson Steele, Josh Klein vs. Daniel Phillips, Tommy Manson, Tommy Kane, Saint Vitus
vs.

GP: Well, up next is an interesting little bout... it pits Donnie Daze and his crew against Daniel Phillips and his own crew, and...

JT: DANIEL~!

GP: ...my collegue here has come out of the closet and wants to elope with Mr. Phillips...

JT: Oh, shut up. This guy is my *HERO*. Well. After Seaman.

"One Thing" by Gravity Kills begins to blare, as the fans instantly began to boo the man associated with this theme, Daniel Phillips. Daniel went through the curtains and literally sneered at every last fan in attendance, as well as every last fan watching at home. He shrugged off the boos and headed to the ring.


Meygon: The following is a Conspiracy Theory contest. In this match, if Daniel Phillips pins Donnie Daze, he is the new Cruiserweight champion, and those that survive this match will move on to the final Conspiracy Theory match! Introducing first, the challenger. He hails from Phoenix, Arizona and weighs in at two hundred and twelve pounds... he is DANIEL PHILLIPS!

Boos come just from the mere mention of Phillips' name, as he looked at the ominous steel structure. "One Thing" was soon replaced by "One More" by End of April, and Saint Vitus, whose odd eyes were showing off a glint of red, meaning that he was incredibly, incredibly pissed off, headed for the ring.

Meygon: His partner... from Long Beach, California... weighing in at two hundred and seventy pounds... SAINT VITUS!

And then, "Slave to the Grind" began to play. This drew out Tommy Kane, who received mixed reactions from the crowd.

Meygon: Their partner... from Providence, Rhode Island... weighing in at two hundred and twenty-five pounds... TOMMY KANE!

Kane soon made his way to where the rest of his team were gathered, and just sort of stared at the structure. "Slave to the Grind" was soon replaced by "Complicated" by Breach of Trust. This drew out Tommy Manson, who made his way to the ring.

Meygon: Finally... from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania... weighing in at two hundred and fifty-five pounds... TOMMY MANSON!

JT: Might I just say that there are too many Tommy's in this match?

GP: Shut up, JT.

As soon as those words left Greg's mouth did "Geronimo" by Unwritten Law began to blare, and out came Donnie Daze, Bossa Nova, Jackson Steele, and Josh Klein. Apparently, IWO budget has been running way too thin to have 2947291 entrances per match.

GP: Oh, good. No more tiresome entrances.

Meygon: And their opponents, from... uh... places that need no concern... weighing in at a total combined weight of something similar to *a lot*... they are the team of Bossa Nova, Jackson Steele, Josh Klein, and the IWO Cruiserweight Champion... DONNIE DAZE~!

The four wrestlers gathered to the other side of the giant cage. The bell rang, signifying that the match was to begin. As soon as Josh Klein decided to get into the cage to start off his team, Daniel Phillips entered the cage, himself. Phillips sneered in Donnie Daze's general direction before he jumped Klein from behind and clubbed him right right hands.

GP: And this match is on~!

JT: See, now this is why Daniel Phillips is the man. He took the opportunity to lead off for his team! Where was DAZE for that?!

GP: Daze didn't even know Phillips was getting in until he did, if Daze had seen him get in first, you'd better believe he'd smash Phillips' brains in!

JT: HARDLY!

Phillips pounded away at Klein before he started ramming him viciously and repeatedly into the cage. His meanstreak was showing full force, as he continued to pound Klein's face into the mesh until his face was bloody.

JT: BLOOOOODDDD~!!! Holy motherfucking shit, man! Phillips might have just set a new Conspiracy Theory record for quickest blood drawn! THIS MAN IS MY GOD! ...er, but he's still not as good as Seaman.

GP: Right. Whatever.

However, Klein finally woke up and elbowed Daniel in the face to break Phillips' hold on his hair. The former Food then proceeded to grab Daniel's face and repeatedly ram it into the cage, until Phillips stops him with an elbow. Klein was stunned momentarilly, before Phillips grabed him from behind and executed a textbook belly-to-back suplex, dumping Klein on his back. Almost like a second nature to him, Phillips rolled around and began to rain down punches over the bloody skull of Josh Klein.

GP: Things are not looking good for Klein right now, and it might have been a bad idea for him to be the first in this match. Especially since his opponent is such a colossal prick.

JT: He might be a colossal prick, but he's... OUR colossal prick!

Greg had no response for that, as Phillips pulled up Klein and sent him off of the ropes. Unfortunately for him, he didn't think about Klein using said ropes for an asai moonsault until he was actually caught with it. Following up almost immediately, Klein sprang off of another nearby set of ropes and executed a Lionsault.

GP: Yeah! YEAH! That's it, Josh! Stick it to him!

JT: No! NO! No sticky!

The buzzer suddenly rang, and Donnie Daze ended up meeting up with Tommy Kane to decide who should enter next. Daze called heads in midair, but got tails. With that settled, Kane entered the cage.

GP: Oh great, now Phillips' team has the edge in this match.

JT: WOO~!

Phillips was still getting pummeled with right hands, and a small trickle of blood started to flow from his forehead. Klein stood up and prepared to run off of the ropes for another move, but ended up in Kane's grasp, who immediately German suplexes Klein nearly out of his boots.

GP: German suplex!

JT: Dude, that was the coolest! He actually BOUNCED!

GP: You're disgusting.

JT: I work hard at my art!

Kane began to deliver kicks to Klein's face, buying time for Daniel to recover from his punishment. Kane drove shoulders into Klein's stomach in the corner, before dragging him to the center of the ring and applying the Irish Cloverleaf in the center of the ring. Unfortunately for Josh, he can't actually be eliminated until everyone enters the cage, no matter how much he screamed in pain. To make matters worse, Daniel Phillips has recovered, and he adds a few stomps and an occasional "Fuck you!" before he applied the Royal Treatment on Klein's upper body.

GP: Jesus Christ, you might as well call Josh Klein the Human Pretzel.

JT: Mmm... pretzels. You know, I could go for some right now.

Kane, bored of keeping the hold applied, released it. Phillips kept the Royal Treatment applied until the buzzer sounded, and that's when Donnie Daze decided to enter the cage. Phillips immediately released the hold and tried to stand before Daze could reach him, but Daze was all too quick for Phillips, and he was knocked down by a vicious diving elbow and subsequent punches.

GP: DONNIE DAZE IS IN!

JT: Chocolate pretzels, especially. I could eat those all day, you know. They're so freaking good, it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. Kind of like sex, actually. It's like the food equivalent of having sex.

GP: JT...

JT ignored Parker, as Kane continued to stomp away at Klein, while Phillips and Daze went at it. Eventually, though, Klein began to fight back, punching at Kane's ribs, and eventually at his face. Kane went for a wild roundhouse right that was ducked by Klein and countered right into a fireman's carry into a spinning front neck slam.

GP: SOUTHERN DROP! KLEIN GOT THE SOUTHERN DROP ON KANE!!!

JT: Those big pretzels are awesome in their pretzely goodness, though. I mean, I'm not taking anything away from the chocolate pretzels and their infinite cool, but the big pretzels are where its at, man. If chocolate pretzels are like the food equivalent of having sex, then the big pretzels are the food equivalent of being the only male in a supermodel orgy. I tell ya, pretzels are bad motherf-

GP: Shut your mouth, JT.

JT: What, I'm just talking about pretzels.

GP: I am *so* not digging it.

JT: *pouts* Fine. *muttering under his breath* Pretzel nazi.

While Parker and JT were going on their senseless banter, Daze slowly began to dismantle Phillips in a corner with right hands and stomps. He allowed Daniel to stand up, briefly, only to ram his face into the cage. This opened up Phillips' cut further, and allowed Daze to land a released German suplex that bounced Phillips' skull on the mat.

GP: Ooh, he'll be feeling THAT in the morning!

JT: Bah. Phillips can take that and come back for more! He's a MAN'S MAN~!

The "man's man" was currently on his knees, begging for Daze to stop the pain.

GP: You were saying?

JT: He's REGROUPING!

Meanwhile, Klein was trying his best to keep Tommy Kane down on the canvas, and after a DDT, Klein went to the top rope, looking for the one move that could keep Kane down long enough to hold off the next entrant into the match.

GP: RISING FROM THE SOU- MISSES!

JT: Ha! Moron!

Klein held his chest in pain after completely missing his shooting star press, and as he did so, the buzzer sounded.

In came Saint Vitus, all six foot, six inches and two hundred and seventy pounds of him.

GP: Oh lord, Vitus will KEEL everything that moves!

And "KEEL", he did, as he pulled Klein to his feet, scooped him up, and simply tossed him forward, like a ragdoll, into the cage. As Klein ended up tangled in the ropes, Vitus charged into Daze, who was still in the corner pounding on Phillips, and avalanched him. Daze fell backwards, allowing a opportunistic and bloody Daniel Phillips to pounce on Daze and rain right hands down on his skull.

JT: YEAH! YEAH! GO DANNY GO~!

Tommy Kane pulled Josh Klein to his feet and positioned him for a piledriver, while allowing Saint Vitus to spike it, drilling Klein's skull nearly through the canvas.

GP: Jesus. Klein's taking quite the beating out there.

JT: No shit, that's because PHILLIPS ROCKS~!

GP: Hey, Phillips hasn't touched Klein since Daze came in.

JT: ...well, STILL!

Meanwhile, Phillips continued to pound at Daze's forehead, but finally got off of him long enough to outstretch his arms and wait for Daze to get up. It was perfectly obvious that he was going to knock out Daze long enough to inflict further punishment on him, by executing the Perfect Halo. Unfortunately for him, as soon as he applied the front facelock that set it up, Daze suddenly woke up, and hooked Phillips.

The crowd gasped in shock.


JT: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

GP: Holy mother of CHRIST, Phillips just took a Northern Lights Suplex INTO THE CAGE~!

JT: HE LANDED ON HIS HEAD! NONONONONO!!!

This gave Daze an opportunity to save the day. He blindsided Saint Vitus with a forearm to the back of the neck and a neckbreaker. Kane tried to attack Daze, but ended up taking a back body drop. Kane got back to his feet and tried a right hand that was blocked by Daze, and countered with a right hand of his own. Daze fired off some more right hands and went for an irish whip that was reversed by Kane. Daze leapfrogged over Kane...

...and right into Vitus's clutches.

GP: My god! Vitus caught Daze in MIDAIR... DURING A LEAPFROG with a spinebuster!

And then, the buzzer sounded.

JT: Oh, great. It's that Bossa Nova idiot.

Said idiot immediately went after Tommy Kane and brutalized him with right and left hands. Kane fired back with his own, but Vitus was there, and he literally tossed him into the cage, whereupon he landed with a thud.

GP: That'll leave a mark.

JT: God damn, I'm starting to really like this Vitus guy. Um... why are his eyes coloured red?

GP: Because he's pissed.

JT: Oh.

Vitus went to follow up, but it was around this time that Klein was able to pull his bloody carcass from its own on the canvas and catch Vitus with a low blow.

JT: NO! NOT THE LITTLE VITUSES~!

GP: I saw that line coming a mile away.

As Vitus clutched his... "Vituses", Donnie Daze pulled himself to his feet and DDTed Vitus to the canvas. Daze pulled himself to his feet and speared down Tommy Kane. He called for the Dazed and Confused, but unfortunately for him, someone else was behind him that wanted that very same move.

GP: NO!

JT: DAAAZED AND CONFUUUUSED BY PHILLIPS ON DAZE~!

GP: That stealing bastard! Who does he think he is, Coby Wright!?

JT: Cobywho, now?

GP: Nevermind.

Phillips rose back to his feet after connecting Daze's own signature move on him, and through his crimson-covered face, we can still his usual evil smirk. This smirk lasted all of five seconds before Bossa Nova got back to his feet and nailed him from behind with a running leg lariat. Nova pulled Phillips to the center of the ring and scoop slammed him before heading to the top rope.

GP: GUILLOTINE LEGDRRRROOOOOOPPPPP~!

JT: Must you yell like that?

GP: Yes.

Nova, upon connecting the legdrop, decided to pull Phillips near the turnbuckles and prepare for the Bossa Blast. Unfortunately for him, as he got to the top rope, Vitus was back up and standing there, all big and scary-like. Deciding not to hit the Bossa Blast, Nova leapt off the top rope and landed a missile dropkick to the chest of Vitus, instead.

The buzzer sounded.

JT: Yes! Manson is in! w00t w00t w00t~!

Manson immediately went after Josh Klein, probably the weakest of the seven wrestlers in the ring at this time, and began to stomp away at him. Bossa Nova got to his feet after his missile dropkick on Vitus, only for him to eat a superkick from Tommy Kane.

GP: SUPERKICK!

JT: SWEET CHIN MUSIC!

GP: JUNGLE KICK!

JT: STEVIEKICK!

GP: FACE LIFT!

JT: SHADOW KICK!

GP: YELLOW SNOW!

JT: I... er... I hate you, Parker.

GP: Ha!

Kane dropped down and began to pound away at Nova's face, while Phillips and Vitus fixated themselves on Donnie Daze, who was now busted open, himself.

JT: Ahem. I think this is a good time to say it. BLOOOOOOODDDDDDD~!

GP: And I think now is a good time to mention that you're DISGUSTING.

JT: Thank you! I work hard at my art!

Since nothing of interest is going on, let's make things interesting by mentioning that the final buzzer has just sounded, allowing for Jackson Steele to enter the ring.

GP: And eliminations are now legal!

Steele immediately grabbed Vitus from behind and executed his inverted facelock DDT to the knee move, the Bunny Stunner. Of course, around this time, the referee also came into the ring, and Tommy Kane, realizing this, immediately wandered over to the still-bleeding carcass of Josh Klein and hooked him up with a front facelock.

GP: LUCK OF THE DRAAWWW~! LUCK OF THE DRAW BY TOMMY KANE! OVER INTO THE COVER... ONE!

Two.

GP: THREE!!!

Eliminated - Josh Klein

GP: Klein's outta here!

JT: Good riddance.

As the referees escort Josh Klein out of the ring, Tommy Kane rose to his feet and looked for someone to fight. He saw Jackson Steele stomping away on Saint Vitus, and immediately went after Steele. Kane blindsided him with a forearm and a reverse DDT, before rolling on top of the man who worshipped a stuff rabbit and began to pound away at his face. He pulled Steele to his feet and slammed him down before climbing up to the top rope.

JT: This is going to be SIMPLY SENSATIONAL, BABY~!

Kane leapt.

JT: NO!

Kane missed, as Steele rolled out of the way. Steele got up and pulled Kane to his feet before applying the second Bunny Stunner in the match, and immediately leapt up to the top rope. The fans were on their feet as Jackson Steele leapt off.

GP: BUNNY'S REVENGE~!

JT: Bunny's WHAT?!

GP: Bunny's Revenge! That's Steele's finishing move, and it just annihilated Tommy Kane, right in the center of the ring! Steele's down, Kane's down, and this crowd is JACKED UP!

JT: Well, they're jackASSES, if that's what you meant.

Steele, whose body literally bounced off of Kane's chest upon impact, finally crawled over to Kane's body and made a pin.

GP: Steele with an arm over Kane's chest! ONE!!

GP: TWO!!

JT: Dammit, NO!

GP: THREE!!

Eliminated - Tommy Kane

JT: Man, this SUCKS.

Steele, dizzy from executing his finisher, used the ropes to get to his feet. He turned around, only to meet up with six foot and six inches of pure, unadulterated pissed-offedness in Saint Vitus. Vitus grabbed Steele by his neck and chokeslammed him to the mat. Still holding on to the chokehold, Vitus lifted Steele back up again and executed a second chokeslam.

GP: My GOD, look at the POWER of Saint Vitus. He's MAULING Jackson Steele!

STILL holding on, Vitus went for a third chokeslam, but as he lifted Jackson up, Donnie Daze approached Vitus from behind and executed an astonishing Dazed and Confused on Vitus while he was still holding Steele in the chokeslam, causing Steele to land on top of him, however, he also ended up rolling off of Vitus upon impact.

GP: DAZED AND CONFUUUSED~! DAZE HIT IT WHILE VITUS WAS TRYING A THIRD CHOKESLAM! MY GOD!

JT: I have to admit, that was pretty slick.

GP: Daze with the cover! One...

JT: Hey, wait! That's NOT slick! That SUCKS! KICK OUT!

GP: Two!

JT: KICK OUT DAMN YOU, DON'T LEAVE US WITH THE DISADVANTAGE!

GP: THREE!!!

Eliminated - Saint Vitus

JT: Man! Now it's just Manson and Phillips against three guys?! NOT FAIR!

As the referees pulled Vitus's body from the ring, Daze looked around for someone else to fight, and met one in Daniel Phillips, who had risen to his feet and tackled Phillips to the canvas, and the two resumed their brawling. Meanwhile, Bossa Nova was back on his feet and was now in the middle of a little fight between himself and Tommy Manson. Nova landed a forearm that briefly stunned Manson, before landing a big-time DDT that rocked the Stade Claude Robillard. The fans were on their feet as Bossa moved Manson's body to the center of the ring.

GP: Nova is looking for something here!

Nova climbed up to the top rope and played to the crowd a bit before he leapt off a beautiful, and... dare I say it... scintillating somersault legdrop that could end any match on the planet.

GP: SOMERSAULT LEGDROP! Things are NOT looking good for Tommy Manson! Nova with the cover! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT!

JT: PRAISE ALLAH~!

Nova pulled Manson to his feet and went for the Drill Driver, but Manson somehow slipped out and Tommy Bombied Nova to the canvas, holding on for the pinfall.

GP: SITOUT POWERBOMB! ONE... TWO... THR-NO!

JT: He calls that the Tommy Bomby! Why didn't you scream it out?

GP: It's such a silly sounding name!

Manson got to his feet and went for the Ticking Tom Bomb, but Nova quickly flipped over Manson's shoulder before he could hook his arms, and when Manson turned, he was met with a kick in the nads, and the Drill Driver.

GP: DRILL DRIVAH~!

JT: What is WITH you, tonight, Parker?! Jesus. Screaming randomly like that...

Nova immediately pulled Manson into the nearby corner and jumped up to the top rope, before he leapt off with one of the most spectacular moves seen in IWO history.

GP: BOSSSSAAAA BLAST~! 450 SHOOTING STAR PRESS!

JT: Um. Ow?

GP: Nova with the lateral press! ONE...

JT: Hey, wait! NO! DON'T LEAVE PHILLIPS ALONE!

GP: TWO!

JT: NOOOOO!!!!

GP: THREE!!!

Eliminated - Tommy Manson

GP: And then there was one! Daniel Phillips is all alone here!

The fans erupted, realizing that Phillips was alone, and chanted for Phillips to get his ass kicked. Nova and Steele were both up, while Daze was trying to recover from his beatings. Steele and Nova double-teamed Phillips with a few right hands. Nova whipped Phillips into the ropes, and on the rebound, Steele and Nova caught him with a double flapjack, bouncing Phillips off of the mat.

GP: DOUBLE FLAPJACK! STEELE WITH THE COVER! ONE... TWO... THR-NO!

JT: Come on, Phillips! Don't let these idiots take you down!

Phillips fought to his feet, but he couldn't fight back for very long, as Nova and Steele continued the double-teaming with a double snap suplex. Nova decided to try another double flapjack, and sent Phillips off the ropes. As Nova and Steeled ducked, Phillips performs a forward flip over their backs and lands on his feet. He then reached up and grabbed the necks of both men, before leaping on the ropes...

GP: HOLY MOTHER OF CHRIST! DOUBLE SPOTLIGHTTTEEERRR~!

JT: YES! YES! GO PHILLIPS!

Phillips, blinded by his bleeding forehead, managed to roll over and cover Jackson Steele. The referee was there.

GP: Phillips with the cover! ONE!

JT: YES! TWO!

GP: THREE!!!

Eliminated - Jackson Steele

GP: Now it's two-on-one, with Phillips still dazed, Daze still trying to get up, and Bossa Nova out.

Phillips saw that Daze was charging in, and ducked his clothesline before he caught Daze with a low blow. He started to pull Daze in for the Perfect Halo, but Bossa Nova was getting back to his feet, and this got Phillips' attention. He threw Daze aside and waited for Nova to turn into Phillips' path. When he got there, Phillips yelled "fuck you!", and kicked him in the gut before he snapped him into his finishing move.

JT: PERFECT HALO~! YEAH! BOOYAH, EVEN! PHILLIPS HOOKS THE LEG! ONE... TWO... THREE~!!!

Eliminated - Bossa Nova

GP: My god, I don't believe it! It's down to one-on-one, with Phillips and Daze! These two want to get at each other so badly, they can just feel it!

JT: Phillips is on his feet, as is Daze, and both men, I think, realize that they're the only ones left in this match up!

The two charged into one another and exchanged right hands before Daze got the upper hand and whipped Phillips into the near ropes. Upon the rebound, Daze leapt into the air and delivered a beautiful flying back elbow to the bloody jaw of Daniel Phillips.

JT: Dammit, no! COME ON, DANIEL!

Phillips got to his feet, only to be met with a clubbing blow to the back. He was about to be DDTed, but Phillips suddenly shoved Daze forward until he reached the turnbuckles, and then he lifted Daze up to the top rope. Phillips started to follow in for a superplex, but Daze blocked his attempts, and then front suplexed Daniel off of the top rope.

GP: FRONT SUPLEX! PHILLIPS IS DOWN, DAZE IS GOING UP...

Daze leapt. The fans erupted.

GP: DAAAZE BLAAAZZZEEE~!

JT: NOOOO!!!

GP: COVER! ONE!! TWO!!

JT: KICKOUT!

The fans were shocked that Phillips somehow was able to get his right shoulder up. So was Daze, for that matter, as he looked around for some sort of explanation for this. There was none for Daze to find, so he pulled Daniel to his feet. Phillips begged off a bit, but Daze had none of it and kicked Daniel in the face.

JT: Come on! This is *so* unfair!

Speaking of unfair, Daniel decided to go into his cheap tricks, and immediately caught Daze with a low blow. As Daze doubled over, Daniel used a small package.

GP: Inside cradle! One... TWO... THRE-NO!! Daze SOMEHOW got out of it in the nick of time!

JT: DAMMIT!

Phillips, with the advantage in his favor, got to his feet first. He pulled Daze to the center of the ring and went for the Blue thunder, or the Inciter. Unfortunately for him, Daze flipped up, over, and behind Phillips, and he grabbed Phillips from behind.

The fans exploded.

GP: DAZED AND CONFUSSSEEEEDDDD~! AGAIN!

JT: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

GP: COVER! ONE!

JT: COME ON, KICK OUT!

GP: TWO!!

JT: DAMMIT!

GP: THREE!!!!

The bell rang. It was over.

JT: SHIT! ANOTHER HUNDRED BUCKS DOWN THE DRAIN!

Meygon: Ladies and gentlemen... the sole survivor, moving on to the final match of the evening... and STILL the Internet Wrestling Organization Cruiserweight Champion.... DONNNNIIIIEEEEE DAAAZZZEEEE!!!

GP: What a fantastic performance by all of these men, this evening! Don't you agree, JT?

JT: *mumbles* RassafrackinfuckinDazemotherfuckingshit...

GP: Ladies and gentlemen, we have more great action!

The camera cuts backstage to cHEESE and egg NOG's locker room, as they're lacing up their boots, getting ready for their matchup later tonight. Then, a small knocking noise was heard, as the door opens, leaving the snow selling lunatic in it's place.

cHEESE: So, everything is set up now?

High Flyer: Well, for the most part.

egg NOG: For the most part? Listen, if you're the one to cost us the tag team championships because YOU couldn't get your friend in on the loop, well, let's just say that I'm going to be melting my High Flyer figure!

Flyer shrieks.

High Flyer: NO! NOT THE ACTION FIGURE!

cHEESE: Just meet us out there, and make sure he's there too. And maybe a food cart. I get hungry...

High Flyer: For cheese?!?

cHEESE: NO~! I'm not a cannibal!

cHEESE and egg NOG get out of their locker room, grabbing their tag team titles on the way out.

World Tag Team Conspiracy Match
Those Damned Mexicans & Italian Mobsters vs. Legion of Dairy, High Flyer & ???
vs.
GP: Fans, up next is a Conspiracy Theory matchup with much more on the line than usual. Not only do the winners move on to the World Heavyweight Championship Number One Contendership later in the evening, but should the Legion of Dairy's team lose the overall match, Those Damned Mexicans will inherit the tag team championships!

JT: Which is kinda unfair to the Italian Mobsters. They fight, Those Damned Mexicans DON'T survive, and they DO survive, and THEY don't get the tag team titles.

GP: Well, they weren't the ones that asked for the match, remember?

JT: Whatever. Anyway, there's a mystery partner here, who's it gonna be?

GP: Davis?

JT: Yeah, I was thinking Davis myself too.

GP: Well DUH, who else does Flyer know that's unemployed?

Meygon: This next matchup, is scheduled under elimination rules, and shall take place inside this Hell in a Cell! Introducing first, from Italy, since they're a stereotype... Joey Sooner, Mikey Capitali, the Italian Mobsters~!

'Dupa Blocuri' by B.U.G Mafia plays over the pa system as let out groans and boos. Joey Sooner and Mikey Capitali walk out from the back, raising their hands, as they make their way quickly to the ring.

Meygon: And their tag team partners, they are from Mexico, ANOTHER stereotype of course, Diablo, Edguardo, Those Damned Mexicans!

'Johnny' by System of a Down plays as the fans let out larger boos. Edgurdo and Diablo walk out from the backstage area, and look straight into the eyes of Mikey Capitali and Joey Sooner. They don't seem to be the best of friends, but they do seem to be working on the same page. Their music dies out however.

Meygon: And their opponents... Introducing first...

"Sellout" by Biohazard plays over the pa system as the fans in attendance rise to their feet in cheers. Out from the back walk egg NOG and cHEESE, holding their respective tag team Championships out for all to see.

Meygon: Hailing from Dairytown, West Virginia, and weighing in tonight at a combined four hundred and thirty nine pounds, egg NOG, cHEESE, the current Tag Team Champions, the Legion of Dairy!

The Legion walk out to the ring with YoGuRt by their side. The masters of slick confusing capitalizations take their place on a no longer neutral side of the cage. "Loco" by Coal Chamber begins to play.

Meygon: And their tag team partners... High Flyer...

GP & JT: *Unenthusiastically* Tony Davis...

Meygon: And Tony Davis, Team V.I.A.G.R.A.!

White Pyro shoots out from the entrance, which turns the lights back on in the arena. Flyer stands at the top, raising his hands to the crowd, who play off him and feed him with emotion. But, there's not Davis by his side. That's when "Loco" by Coal Chamber cuts off, and is replaced by "I Hope You Die" by the Bloodhound Gang.

Flyer checks behind him, and still, no Davis. Flyer makes his way to the ring, shaking his head, slapping a few fan's hands on his way, before turning towards cHEESE and egg NOG. He shrugs, when the bell is rung.

**Ding, ding, ding**

GP: Unlike the first match of the evening, the coin toss was done in the backstage area, and the results of that will be told to use when the next two minutes are up! First off, egg NOG starts of his half of the match for his team, as Edguardo does the same for his own.

egg NOG and Edguardo circle one another, before they lock up in the center of the ring. egg NOG grappoles Edguardo into a side headlock, which is shoved off by Edguardo. egg NOG returns, and attempts to throw a shoulder block, but Edguardo comes out on the favorable side. Edguardo looks to drop a quick elbow, but egg NOG rolls out of the way, and rolls back on top the fallen Edguardo, before hammering him with a few right hands.

egg NOG lifts Edguardo up off the mat, and attempts to throw him face first into the cage surrounding the ring, but Edguardo blocks it. Edguardo tries for the same thing on egg NOG, but NOG's able to place his boot on the cage wall, before turning his other boot, and kicking Edguardo square in the face with a modified enzeguri type manuver.

GP: egg NOG used the cage wall to hit an enzeguri!

JT: How the hell do you spell enzeguri? Cuz I know that ain't right.

Edguardo and NOG both return to their feet at about the same time. NOG charges however, and Edguardo side steps, sending NOG off the other side. NOG returns, ducks underneath a clothesline, and returns off. Edguardo lowers his head for a back body drop, but way too soon, as NOG's able to counter it into a Sunset flip. Edguardo's in a pinning predictament, but pins don't count until all four men are in the ring.

Edguardo scissor kicks egg NOG's Head, and then attempts to roll up NOG as well. Same rules still apply however, as Edguardo gets out of the cover, and looks towards the referee. This however, gives egg NOG just enough time to get to his feet, kick the returning Edguardo in the gut, and nail a vicious snap suplex.

egg NOG stays on with the hook, lifting Edguardo back up off the canvas, and driving him back down with a ddt.

GP: MAN, what a combination!

JT: I thought a combination was like, 1, 2, 3, 4.

GP: You mean like that guys luggage from Spaceballs?

JT: YEAH~!

GP: No, see, the word combination can mean numerous things!

egg NOG lifts Edguardo again, still hooked in the headlock, and lifts him off the canvas. He lets him hang for a bit, before dropping him in the Intoxicator v. 2.0. Edguardo lies face up in the ring.

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

There's the buzzer, and climbing into the ring is Joey Sooner!

JT: Do the faces EVER win the coin toss?

GP: I'm not sure.

Joey Sooner immediatly goes to work on egg NOG with elbows to the back of the neck. NOG falls down to his knees after a few blows, and is brought back to his feet and gets whipped off the other side. NOG returns, ducking a clothesline, before returning off the other side. Sooner kicks NOG in the gut, and lifts him up in the center of the ring, before nailing...

GP: The Italian Piledriver! What a move from Joey Sooner?

JT: .. THAT'S his finishing move? Man, I feel jipped.

Sooner begins planting the boots on the fallen NOG, as Edguardo slowly gets to his feet once more. He joins in on the attack, just laying the boots in repeatedly.

GP: Oh come on! This is a wrestling match, not a fight!

JT: And this isn't illegal Greg! They can stomp him till the cows come home if they want!

GP: And when is that?

JT: About four o'clock.

Edguardo lifts egg NOG off the mat, and picks him up for a scoop slam. Edguardo reaches his hand out, slapping high five with Joey Sooner, before they both drop elbows onto egg NOG's midsection, still interlocked in their handshake.

Sooner didn't get to his feet, choosing to choke the fallen egg NOG. With each breathe he was taking away, Edguardo began to stomp the air that was still inside him out with blows to the midsection.

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

cHEESE came racing into the ring, and immediatly knocks down Edguardo with a clothesline.

GP: cHEESE coming in to save his tag team partner!

Joey Sooner got to his feet and attempts to clothesline cHEESE down as well, but cHEESE ducks, and dropkicks him down. Edguardo gets back to his feet, and hooks cHEESE in a full nelson. Edguardo lifts cHEESE up, who then wraps his legs around Edguardos' midsection, and rolls through for what would have been a cover. Instead, cHEESE quickly released the hold, and falls pray to a vicious thrust kick from Joey Sooner.

GP: SOONER CAUGHT cHEESE SQUARE IN THE JAW~!

JT: That's what happens with a thrust kick Greggy.

Sooner begins to gloat, looking over the fallen cHEESE, before he turns around to see egg NOG back on his feet. Sooner charges NOG, but NOG ducks down, and then lifts his body up as if to back body drop Sooner into the cage. However, NOG holds onto his legs.

JT: Now that's why the faces are stupid! He could just sent Sooner FLYING into the cage!

GP: But... I think egg NOG has worse plans in mind.

egg NOG, with Sooner hanging off his back, drops him onto the mat with his Dairytown Hangover, or his version of the Vertebreaker.

GP: WHAT A MOVE! THE FANS ARE ON THEIR FEET~!

As egg NOG returns from his Vertebreaker to a standing position, Edguardo races towards NOG and catches him with his Spick kick, which sends egg NOG back down to the canvas.

JT: Talk about Spot-Fest 3000!

GP: JT~! We're in 2002. Get it right at least.

Edguardo grabs egg NOG up off the mat and locks in a Dragon Sleeper. NOG begins to wave frantically to get out of the hold, but it's to no avail, as Edguardo simply sinches the hold in stronger. cHEESE begins to regain his footing, as he walks behind Edguardo, and locks him in a regular sleeper hold. It's now a chain of wrestlers, three deep, as Joey Sooner still lies on the canvas, face down from the vertebreaker.

Suddenly, Edguardo drops down, reverse ddting egg NOG and jawbreaking cHEESE. They both fly down to the canvas, as Edguardo rubs the top of his head from the impact of the jawbreaker.

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

GP: And it doesn't get any easier, as into the ring climbs Mikey Capitali! And now cHEESE and egg NOG are at a definite disadvantage.

JT: That's the whole point about this coin toss thing! Although, it seems the coins the IWO uses are evil since all the heels win them. We must study these evil coins and find out if they are excreated from Gunnar Smith's bowels.

GP: ...JT?

JT: Yes?

GP: Shut up.

Capitali slides into the ring and begins to help up Joey Sooner. Edguardo continues the assault now on cHEESE, lifting him and throwing him into a corner, before firing away with right hands and knife edge chops. cHEESE's chest turns bright red from the impact. cHEESE hangs in the corner, his arms hooking the top rope the only thing keeping him from slouching down in the corner.

On the other side, the Joey Sooner and Mikey Capitali are putting the boots to egg NOG and trying their best with their italian stereotype.

JT: A very mafia like mugging on egg NOG!

GP: ... Usually Mafia's don't mug people.

JT: I know that!

Joey Sooner grabs egg NOG, and throws him off the ropes, when he returns, Capitali lifts him up into a flapjack, as Sooner hooks him on the way down, nailing a DDT, which I guess is called the Mafia ddt.

GP: MAFIA DDT!

JT: What a flat stereotype!

cHEESE is hit with elbow after elbow shot from Edguardo, as egg NOG is down, face up on the canvas. Joey Sooner and Mikey Capitali walk over to the corner, and rip cHEESE out, throwing him off the other side. Joey Sooner lifts him in a flapjack to nail him with the same Mafia DDT, but cHEESE throws his lower body weight, and dropkicks the awaiting Mikey Capitali square in the jaw to a huge pop. cHEESE tries to quickly regain his balance, and ducks a clothesline from Joey Sooner. Edguardo charges, as cHEESE grabs him by his head, and drops him in a jawbreaker. Edguardo rocks around, before turning right into a high leg lariot. Joey Sooner however, is quick to attack the now fallen cHEESE with vicious elbow shots to the back of his neck, and then begins to put the boots on the fallen cHEESE.

GP: cHEESE fought valiently to get back into this match, but it seems that the odds are just stacked too much against these two men.

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

And with that, the odds are now even, as racing into the ring is High Flyer. Joey Sooner immediatly turns his attention to the oncoming Flyer, as Flyer charges, twisting his body into a tilt-a whirl headscissors, taking Sooner down to the mat. Flyer quickly gets to his feet, as Mikey Capitali, who just regained his senses after that vicious dropkick to the face by cHEESE, and charges. Flyer ducks underneath the clothesline attempt, and reaches back, grabbing Capitali by the head, and dropping him in a neckbreaker.

GP: Flyer is on fire here!

JT: Well, he does have the decided rest advantage! And I think that's cheating!

Flyer turns towards Edguardo, who's regained his senses, and lifts Flyer up into a sky high, before dropping him with a stunner.

GP: PANTY RAID! Edguardo nailed it, and Flyer lands hard face up on the canvas!

JT: There goes HIS push! HA~!

Edguardo puts the boots on Flyer for a bit, trying to help Sooner and Diablo to their feet.

cHEESE however, has something else to say about that.

cHEESE kicks Edguardo square in the back, bending him backwards, before double underhooking his arms. He motions to the crowd, and then drives Edguardo into the mat with Gc2k! cHEESE raises his hands in victory, and extends his hand to Flyer, to help him up to his feet.

GP: THERE IT IS! Gc2k!

JT: What the hell sort of name is that?

Joey Sooner gets to his feet, and charges towards the pair, He extends his arms for a double clothesline, but both Flyer and cHEESE are able to duck. Sooner turns around a bit dazed, as Flyer kicks him in the gut. cHEESE and Flyer both hook Sooner in a double face lock, before lifting him up off the mat, high in the air for a vertical suplex, but they leave him hanging up there for a moment.

That is, until Capitali comes in and clips out cHEESE's leg knee, sending cHEESE out of the hold, and Flyer dropping Sooner on his head in the middle of the ring with a vicious brainbuster like manuver. Sooner crumples up into a ball before unfolding on the mat.

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

Into the ring climbs Diablo, which makes the challengers to the tag team championships on the positive side and the finished part of their entrances. Flyer turns around, before meeting Diablo square in the face. Flyer goes for a right hand, but Diablo catches him, lifts him up in a urangi, and tiger bombs him out of it.

GP: That's the Firestarter!

JT: It's also a variation of a move Flyer does that HE calls the Lunatic Bomb! I wouldn't want to be beat by my own move!

GP: You can't be beat quite yet, not everyone is into the ring yet, remember?

JT: Oh yeah, Davis has to get in.

GP: Yeah, Davis.

Diablo turns Flyer over to get to his feet himself, and is met with a couple of right hands from egg NOG. NOG backs Diablo into the ropes, and goes for a whip off the other side. Diablo reverses, sending egg NOG off the other side. When he returns, Diablo lowers his shoulder, picking him up in a rack position, before Edguardo walks over, and Those Damned Mexicans lay out egg NOG with "The Green Card," a fireman's carry flapjack ddt.

Joey Sooner and Mikey Capitali slowly get back to their feet, and take a look at the carnage that surrounds them.

5...
4...
3...
2...
1!

GP: Wait, that was too quick for two minutes?

The camera pans to see JT, holding a small oven timer and pressing the time forward.

JT: WHAT?!?! Screw you Parker.

No one comes out from the back, as the team of Those Damned Mexicans and the Italian Mobsters just continue their attacks on their fallen opponents. They wait for a few moments, occassionally stomping them back down in an attempt to keep them down, and gain the advantage on the final man.

But no one shows up.

That's when the Italian Mobsters made their move.

First it was Edguardo, turning him around, lifting him up in a flapjack and ddting him with the Mafia DDT in the middle of the ring. Edguardo's body hitting the canvas was more than enough for Diablo to turn around, only to receive a Mafia DDT for his own troubles. The fans aren't sure whether to pop or boo, so a mixed reaction takes place, as Joey Sooner and Mikey Capitali exit the cage doors.

GP: WHAT A DOUBLE CROSS!

JT: Dude! The Italian Mobsters just left the match, because THEY knew they weren't going to win the tag team titles no matter what! What do THEY care!

GP: Does that mean they're eliminated?!?

Meygon: Eliminated, via exiting the cage, the Italian Mobsters!

JT: Oh, that was just perfect timing Greg.

GP: Thank you, I try.

Diablo and Edguardo lie face up in the middle of the ring, as egg NOG slowly rolls over, beaten and bruised, and draps his arm over Diablo.

1...

2...

Diablo gets a shoulder up at the last second, being rather fresh. egg NOG slouches down on the side of Diablo, still feeling the effects of the Green Card he took moments earlier.

JT: Okay, no one's really moving... COME ON! CHOP CHOP! THIS IS A WRESTLING MATCH, NOT A TANNING SALON!

JT looks over at Greg Parker, who's brought out a tanning lamp to tan his arms.

JT: AIE~!

GP: ... Oh, yeah, I don't tan well. I usually get burnt.

cHEESE is the first to his feet, grabbing the fallen Edguardo up by his hair. cHEESE throws Edguardo off the ropes, but Edguardo stops the momentum, and picks cHEESE up onto his shoulder instead of whipping him into the ropes for his reversal. In his fireman's carry, Edguardo throws cHEESE around, and nails a sit down facebuster. cHEESE lands face up, as Edguardo falls over cHEESE's body.

1...

2...

3!

Meygon: Eliminated, cHEESE!

JT: Hey, good thing the ring isn't lactose intolerant!

Edguardo slowly regains his feet, and helps up Diablo. Diablo shakes his cobwebs, as they see High Flyer regaining his feet. Flyer turns around, and is met by Diablo hooking his upper body. Diablo jumps up into the air, nailing the rydeen bomb, while Edguardo nailed the neckbreaker. Those Damned Mexicans caught Flyer with the Mexican Death Drop. Both men pile on top.

1...

2...

3!

Meygon: Eliminated, High Flyer!

Edguardo and Diablo quickly sat down on the ring canvas, trying to regain their senses while they pondered how quickly they've overcome the odds. But just as quickly, egg NOG rolled Diablo up from behind.

1...

2...

3!

A split second later, Edguardo comes breaking up the pin with a forearm smash, but it's too late, as Diablo has just been eliminated.

Meygon: Eliminated, DIABLO~!

GP: We're down to Edguardo and egg NOG, the two men who STARTED off this contest.

JT: So, where do you think Davis is?

GP: Well, He's not getting head from Meygon, since she's out here... so I'll go with playing the game of life with midgets and Kathy Lee Gifford.

Edguardo can't believe what happens, so immediatly, he goes to stomping the fallen body of egg NOG repeatedly. He's not sure what to do, thinking drastically, Edguardo lifts egg NOG and slams him in a scoop slam, before picking him up again, and looking towards the cage wall.

Edguardo would ram egg NOG repeatedly until he bled.

Edguardo rams forward, driving egg NOG's forehead into the steel mesh. However, the first time isn't enough for the crimson to be poured. As he reves up for a second time, egg NOG drops down behind him, and rolls him up once more, this time, hooking the tights.

1...

2...

3!

Meygon: Eliminated, EDGUARDO! That means, the winner, and soul survivor, egg NOG!

JT: WHAT?!? HE CHEATED! FACES CAN'T CHEAT!

GP: You can't cheat in a match with no rules JT, you should know that by now!

JT: STILL! WHAT A JIP!

This Segment was pre-taped before President Ford's car accident.

Tom Ford was occupied with the ever so troublesome stack of paperwork on his desk. Busily working through them, Rob Kestler stood back overlooking the proceedings. A slight creak of the office door was heard in the background as Ford continued to work. Not noticing what was happening, he glanced up to retrieve the next group of papers, but was interrupted by a certain hand in the shot that gave it to him instead. Realizing who it was, he stared at the individual with a look of discontent. Walking over to the front of his desk, Simon Seaman made his presence known and began to stare at his surroundings as Ford and Kestler waited for him to speak.

Simon: You know something, Mr. Ford? I never noticed this before, but you've done quite a job with this here office of yours. The colour scheme is great, the pictures hanging on the wall scream class and the addition of Monsieur Kestler has really added to the overall effect of this impressive room. All class all over I must say. Very, very nice indeed.

Clapping his hands together somewhat sarcastically, Simon continued to stare at the walls of the office in amazement.

Simon: I've always liked...

Simon became distracted with Ford and began to glare at him curiously. He squinted his eyes and leaned over the desk to see what was the matter. Gesturing something towards him, he tried to make whatever he was looking at clear.

Simon: Wait, you've got a little something on your face, Thomas. Just a
little bit to the right.

With a blank expression, Ford nonchalantly touched the right side of face, continuing to stare at Simon.

Simon: No, the other side. Yeah, that's it. Here, let me help you out.

Reluctantly letting him get closer and closer to him, Ford stood still and awaited what was about to happen. Meanwhile, Simon leaned in and placed his hand out, but took the opportunity to violently slap Ford in the face with it.

Simon: A little bit of "screw Simon Seaman out of everything he deserves since he apparently has never done anything for the IWO" on you. Don't worry, I think I got it off you for now. Now, a clean Thomas Ford is a productive Thomas Ford, isn't it?

Rob Kestler tried to helped Ford regain his composure as the president favoured the left side of his face. As Simon stood there appearing quite bitter, Rob spoke up.

Rob: You know what, "suh suh" or "S2" or whatever the hell you call yourself...

Annoyed by Rob's voice and demeanor, Simon pretended not to hear him.

Simon: What's that? Did I hear something? Is it some the joke again? Is it? It's very muffled and insignificant.

Ford began to come to his senses, now glaring at the former world champion in anger. He then motioned for Rob not to get involved in the matter.

Simon: When I have something to say, "boss", you should listen. You don't like me? Fine, because the feeling could very well be mutual. You don't like my ideas? Sure you may not like them, but you hear me out,
presidente...comprende?

Following that, Simon started to fiddle with a cup full of pens on Ford's desk while speaking directly at him.

Simon: I've been with this company for how long? How long have I been with this company, mister? You want to know how long I've put up with you and every other person in the IWO? Oh, it's been long. There is no doubt about that. The constant foolishness, stupidity, and ignorance that goes on around here could drive a sane person mental and a mental person Mariah Carey. Though through all that, there have been good times. Remember those good times when viewers enjoyed the product? When was the last time perople were truly entertained around here? When was the last time the IWO had credibility? Wait, wasn't that when I was champion?

Stroking his chin pondering the thought, he sat back in a chair behind him and proceeded.

Simon: You know, after all this time of loyal service, I'd thought I'd actually catch a break around here. I believed that I wouldn't have to go through someone like AWS Man to speak to you. Funny as it sounds, I felt deep inside that when the time came, I could come to the IWO President to talk about matters that concerned, well, the IWO when I needed to. I guess I was wrong.

With Ford unwilling to hear anymore of this, Simon couldn't help but continue and raised his voice even higher to express his frustration.

Simon: You know how it feels to have done anything and everything for something that pulled you right in and embraced you, only to have it spit you right back out when it thinks you're done? You take a look at the IWO at its current state and you see two things. Number one is Schitzo Tod as world champion and although the fact eats me up inside like a ulcer, that's not the problem. Although, you want to find out about problemo numero two? Number two...Simon Seaman is anything but.

He paused for a moment, glancing at the man in front of him with a sly smirk.

Simon: Ford, don't tell me I'm important because I know I am. You might deny it, Kestle's Crunch beside you might not know it, but I do. When people see the word "IWO", they're most likely thinking about me. My title reign alone probably did wonders for what was speculated to be a very stale and repetitive product. This resulted in many perks. My popularity got you this desk and my talent gave you this office. So you want to treat me like this in return? There's nothing like seeing Simon lose again and again and again and again, is there Ford? An IWO without me seems kind of appealing to you, doesn't it? You intentionally choose to make me unhappy and mistreat me this way so you can drive me out of the company, right? You don't want Simon Seaman and the IWO to be mentioned in the same sentence ever again...with Tod as champion and a whole bunch of hip, cool guys coming in...you don't think you need me.

Slowly but surely standing up, he looked at Rob and then back at Ford.

Simon: That's all right with me, but before I leave you be I'd like to say this. Throw and ball up in the air and it's eventually going to fall back down. Make it sunny and it's going to rain sooner of later. Heck, spin the wheel of fortune and it will stop. Mr. Ford, this is my message to you. You destroy me and I could very well destroy "this".

Giving the IWO president the thumbs up, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving Ford to evaluate Seaman's statement in his office.

Conspiracy Theory Match
Simon Seaman, Evan Levine, Erik Blake, & Nuke vs. Harold Hash, Ash Robinson, and the Masked Man dressed as Psycho Jay, & Rob Kestler
vs.

*Since our match writer didn't know the rules, pretend this is an alternate universe where he got the rules correct.*

GP : OK, gang, it's just about time for us to have our last Conspiracy Theory match before we move on to the finals.

JR : Gang? Now you're calling the audience "gang"? Damn, I swear you get gayer every show.

GP : ...It's true.

JT : Well, this godforsaken PPV might actually be about to pick up, because this match has the almighty Simon Seaman in it!

GP : Yeah, the same almighty Simon Seaman whose had a pitiful win/loss record ever since he lost the World title. Has he even won a match since then?

JT : Greg, I highly advise you to just not talk anymore. Your ignorantness shines through every time you talk.

GP : My ignorantness?

JT : Yeah, you heard me, you ignoranamus.

GP : (Sigh) You really are a moron. Let's just go to Meygon for the introductions for this match.

Meygon is in the ring, wearing a suit of armor that leaves everything to the imagination. Na, I'm just messin' with ya. She's dressed very slutacularly, like always.

Meygon : The following contest is our final Conspiracy Theory matchup of the night before the finals. The winner of this match will advance to the finals ... You should all know the rules of this match by now, unless it's like both Conspiracy Theories before where each individual match writer just has the rules be whatever the hell he wants. Well, I guess that is how this one is. In that case, this writer is a lazy bitch and will just be making up the rules as he goes along. So let's just get to the introductions.

I felt there should be a paragraph break here. So SUCK ON THAT~! Yeah, I used the tilde~!

Meygon : Introducing first ... standing 6'1" tall and weighing 233 lbs. ... a former NA, Unified, US, and World champion ... winner of the 2001 Most Improved award ... a man who cleverly uses his last name as a nickname - such originality ... the master of the Silencer ... he is "S2," SSSSIIIIIMMMMOOOONNNNN SSSSEEEEAAAAMMMMAAANNNN!!!

"Relax" by Powerman 5000 blares as Simon Seaman steps out from backstage. He strides down the ramp, flicking off the fans as they boo him tremendously. Seaman climbs up the steps and gets into the ring, where he begins carefully patting his hair to make sure it's properly positioned.

Meygon : And next, one of his three teammates ... standing6'4" tall and weighing 243 lbs. ... a former I/C Tag, US, Pacific, NA, and World champion, and has even kept track of who he beat for all those titles, which is really quite sad ... quite likely the most washed-up man in the IWO, with the possible exception of Capital Punishment, although it is arguable whether Evan has actually gotten worse or if it's just that he's can no longer use his power to put himself over ... the master of the Conceptual Perfection ... he is the man who once claimed he was going to destroy the "Internet Wrestling Federation," and yes, he was talking about the IWO, EEEVVVAAANNN LLLEEEVVVIIIINNNEEEE!!!!

"Simon Says" by Pharoahe Monche plays as Evan walks out from the back, looking extremely pissed off at his slightly less than courteous introduction. At least, I assume his music is still playing; it's impossible to tell with all the boos drowning everything.

JT : (Yelling to be heard over the noise) Wow, Evan's still got it! Nobody else inspires this kind of heel heat!

GP : I think that's just cause they're mad they still have to see him. Considering that he never cuts promos anymore, I don't think that they're booing any actions he's taken as of late.

JT : Hey, it's not Evan's fault he doesn't cut promos anymore! He's obviously too busy with destroying the IWF, like he promised he would a few months ago. I've never heard of this "IWF," but I'm sure they're going down!

GP : ...JT, he was talking about us. He just doesn't know the name, or apparently even the initials of the federation that he's been a part of for years now.

JT : Oh … Damn, Evan really is an idiot, isn't he?

GP : Yes, he truly is.

Meygon : And next ... standing at 6'4" and weighing256 lbs. ... a former TV and Insult champion ... the master of the Highligher ... he is the second IWO wrestler alone that I'm aware of who's stolen Evander Holyfield's nickname, the "Real Deal" EEERRRIIIKKK BBBLLLAAAKKKEEE!!!

"Without Me" by Eminem plays as Blake walks down the entrance ramp to a mild chorus of boos.

GP : Does Erik Blake change his entrance music to a different Eminem song every week?

JT : What can I say? He likes scrawny rapping wiggers.

Blake rolls into the ring and goes to high five Seaman, who simply looks at him in disgust and turns away. Blake looks disappointed and starts to go towards Evan, but then seemingly realizes that he doesn't want to high five Evan, so he just stands there.

Meygon : And the final member of "Team Heel," as I have so originally named them ... standing at 6'4" and weighing 243 lbs. ... a former Unified, Extreme, and NA champion, and winner of the 2001 Future World Champion award ... he's quite psychotic ... the master of the Burning Psychosis ... he is the Innovator of Wrongness, NNNNNNUUUUKKKKEEEE!!!!

"Dead Wrong" by Biggie Smalls plays as Nuke walks out from the back. The fans boo him all the way down the ramp, which Nuke responds to by flipping them off. He hops up onto the apron and steps into the ring. Blake walks up to high five Nuke, but winds up flat on his back after getting punched in the face.

JT : Ha! Nuke just slugged Blake for no reason!

GP : And you find that funny?

JT : Of course. It was comic genius.

Meygon : And now, the first of their opponents ... standing at 6'1" and weighing 235 lbs. ... a former NA champion, and the self-proclaimed award winner for having the longest name for a finisher ... he likes the hash ... the master of his finisher, cause I sure as hell ain't gonna say it ... he is HHHAAARRROOOLLDDDD HHHHAAAASSSSHHHHH!!!!

"Hacksaw Decapitation" by Cannibal Corpse plays as Harold Hash walks out, greeted by cheers from the fans. Hash runs down to ringside and stays there, waiting for his partners.

Meygon : Next ... standing at 6'5" and weighing 265 lbs. ... a former US champion, and the current NA champ ... the master of the Shadow Kick ... he is AAAASSSHHH "Shadow" RRROOOBBBBIIINNNSSSSOOONNN!!!

"In A Godda Da Vida" by Iron Butterfly plays, and Ash Robinson makes his way from the back to a small mixed reaction. He briskly strides down to the ring and also stands at ringside.

Meygon : And their next teammate ... standing at an unknown height and weighing an unknown weight ... a former IWO member, though we don't know who - at least, the retarded people don't know who he is, I think it's pretty damn obvious to everyone else ... I supposedly don't know what his finisher is ... he is the IWO's latest mystery returning veteran, the MMMMAAASSSKKKEEEDDD MMMMMAAANNNNN!!!

That cheesy "Masked Man" song by Frank Sinatra begins to play, then turns into "Fuck your Enemy" by Superjoint Ritual as the masked man walks out, dressed in an Evan Levine shirt, complete with a "Gaym Tyme" t-shirt. Evan sees this in the ring, has Seaman read it to him, then gets extremely mad. The masked man strolls down to ringside and points at Evan, who from the confused look on his face is obviously one of the few who hasn't figured out who the man is yet.

Meygon : And finally ... standing at 6'6" and weighing 313 lbs. ... a former World, NA, US, and I/C Tag champion ... one of the strangest IWO competitors of all time, and also one of the most beloved by the fans ... the winner of the Mall Brawl IV, and voted the 2000 "Future IWO Champ" while being the current IWO champ ... the master of the Call From Beyond ... he is the man nicknamed "Hey, you. STOP LICKING MY ARM!", RRRRROOOOOBBBBB KKKEEEEESSSSTTTLLLLEEEEERRRRR!!!!

"Mope" by the Bloodhound Gang, which is by far the best entrance music in this match, plays as Rob Kestler wanders out from the back, getting a huge pop from the crowd. He stumbles down the entrance ramp and runs into the side of the ring, knocking himself down.

JT : Rob sure is stumbling a lot tonight.

GP : Well, he does use the much lauded "stumbling idiot" wrestling style.

JT : Greg, no one watching this has any idea what the hell lauded means.

GP : Yeah, I know. I just like to flaunt my superior vocabulary.

All of the members of the second team finally climb up onto the apron, and Erik Blake and Ash Robinson climb into the ring as the bell rings.

GP : It looks like Blake and Robinson will be starting this one off.

JT : Gee, thanks, Greg. I'm sure no one could tell.

GP : That's what I'm here for.

Ash and Erik slowly circle each other before locking up in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Pootietang is a messed-up movie. Ash gains the advantage and shoves Blake back into the ropes, and catches him with a back elbow as he bounces back.

GP : And Ash gets the better of Blake in the early going of this match-up. These two have quite the history, always being in about the same division in the IWO.

JT : Um ... did anyone else hear that random thing about Pootietang that the narrating voice said?

GP : Shut UP, JT! I've told you time and time again not to mention the narrating voice!

JT : But ... but ... OK.

Blake quickly gets back to his feet and ducks a forearm from Robinson. He turns and hits Ash with a reverse DDT. He waits for Ash to get back up and goes for a superkick, Ash's own finishing move, but Ash ducks that and locks a sleeper in on Blake. After several moments, Blake is able to elbow his way out I likes them ham and bagel sammiches and catch Robinson with a Stunner-type move.

GP : Great counter to a sleeper by Erik Blake!

JT : Now I know you hear that thing about sammiches!

GP : No, I didn't.

Blake walks to his corner and makes the tag to Nuke. Robinson tries to crawl over to his corner, but Nuke rushes into the ring and drags Robinson back by his feet. He raises Ash's legs in the air, looks around, and swiftly kicks Ash right in the nuts. JT's a prick.

JT : Hey! I'm getting pretty damn sick of that narrating voice.

GP : JT, SHUT UP.

Ash rolls around, clutching his testicles. Nuke looks down at him with disdain, then picks Ash up and shoves him into his corner, where Rob Kestler tags in.

GP : Now if Nuke was going to let Ash tag out anyway, then why the hell'd he have to kick him in the nuts first?!

JT : Um, that's an easy question. Because he's Nuke!

GP : Oh yeah.

Rob rushes in, right into a right hand by Nuke. Rob falls down and starts flopping around like a drowning fish.

JT : Like a what? That doesn't even make sense.

GP : JT, would you please stop talking to yourself?

JT : Grrrr... Damn narrating voice always hooked on the morphine, like Toad.

GP : JT, only one person reading this will get that, and I doubt he'll even read this.

JT : So?!

Nuke looks at Rob confused for a moment before laying in a whole mess of a lotta stomps on Rob. Rob finally makes it to his feet and delivers an extremely weak looking knife-edged chop to Nuke, which Nuke simply rolls his eyes at and shoves Rob. Even though Rob was fairly close to the ropes on one side, he stumbles all the way back to fall out of the ring on the other side.

JT : Has Rob Kestler always been this bad?

GP : I think he may have just temporarily forgotten how to wrestle. Cassie tells me he does that sometimes.

JT : Since it's Rob, that really doesn't surprise me.

Nuke rolls his eyes and starts to cross the ring, but Rob suddenly reaches under the ring and pulls out a bucket full of ... rubber ducks! He begins throwing them at Nuke, who just stands there and looks confused.

GP : My God! My God! It's Rob's lethal signature move, "throwing rubber ducks!" My God, the carnage!

JT : Greg ... it's ducks. Rubber ones at that.

GP : But they look so real!

JT : No, they don't.

GP : ...Damn it, JT, why can't you ever work with me?

Nuke eventually gets tired of getting pelted with soft rubber duckies and slides out of the ring. He grabs Rob by the hair and pulls him into an extremely low kick. The referee in the ring administers a warning, but Nuke ignores him and rolls Rob into the ring. He slides in after him and lifts Rob to his feet again, only to lock him and bring him back down with Mutual Assured Destruction (trapping headbutts, into a butterfly suplex). After nailing M.A.D., Nuke scales the top turnbuckle, looks down with a smirk, and leaps off with a stomp to the testicles.

JT : Oh man, Kestler's never gonna be able to get off on porn again after this match!

GP : I don't think Rob ever "got off" on porn anyway. Cassie told me he just likes it for the silly plotlines.

JT : When the hell were you talking to Cassie, anyway?

GP : Um ... I don't know, the match writer can't come up with a funny response for me to say to that.

JT : Yeah, he can't come up with one for me now either. Lazy bum.

The referee gets in Nuke's face, yelling that if he uses one more low blow this match he's disqualified. Nuke shoves him out of the way, then walks over towards the ropes and gives the "Fuck You" sign to the booing audience. Suddenly, Evan Levine makes a blind tag to Nuke. Nuke stands by in shock as Evan runs into the ring, picks up the helpless Rob, and applies Conceptual Perfection (Impaler) on him. Evan covers and the ref makes the count.

1...

2...

3!

Evan jumps up with his arms in the air. In celebration, he turns into a right hook by Nuke, who glares at the felled Evan and steps back out onto the apron. Evan gets back up and starts yelling at Nuke, when suddenly a loud pop by the fans gets his attention. He turns to see the masked man stepping into the ring, pointing at Evan and nodding. Evan looks scared for a moment, then gets angry and runs forward, swinging wildly at the man. The masked man, who happens to be considerably larger than Evan, grabs his hand and begins squeezing it. Evan gasps in pain and drops to a knee. He swings again at the man with his other hand, but the mystery wrestler again sees it coming and grabs this hand as well, crushing it with his vice-like grip. Evan suddenly rams his head forward into the man's gut, causing him to release Evan's hands as he bends over in pain.

GP : That was definitely a desperation move by Evan. I don't know who this guy is, but he's strong ... and he's got something against Evan.

JT : Oh come on, of course you know who that is. Everyone does, except for maybe Evan himself. But even HE may have figured it out. It's-

GP : JT, don't spoil it for the fans who don't know!

JT : I TOLD you, everybody knows it's Bob Dylan!

GP : Bob ... Denver? ... You really are an idiot.

JT : Jealous cause YOU didn't figure it out?

Evan gets up and bounces off the ropes, but the masked man lunges forward and sends Evan spinning with a short-arm clothesline. He lays a few vicious boots into Evan and then drops down to choke him. The ref administers the five-count, and the masked man releases it at the very last second. He jumps up, but comes crashing right back down with a knee across Evan's throat. Evan's face turns purple as he gropes his windpipe, but his opponent doesn't give him a chance to catch his breath before yanking him up and bringing him back down with a brutal powerbomb.

JT : Oh my God, he's gonna kill Evan!

GP : Eh, it's not like anybody will miss him.

JT : ...Yeah, I don't think even I would.

The masked man again lifts up Evan, spins him around, and hits him with an Impaler. He kicks Evan hard in the ribs to roll him over and covers.

1...

2...

3!

GP : The masked man just beat Evan with his own move! And since he didn't use a finisher of his own, we still don't know who it is!

JT : I already told you, it's Bob Dylan.

GP : It is not Bob Dylan!

The masked man, Bob Dylan or not, tags out to Harold Hash as Simon Seaman comes in.

JT : Seaman!!!

GP : So would you say that you enjoy semen, JT?

JT : Damn straight!

GP : Heh heh...

Seaman charges with a clothesline, which Hash ducks, but he doesn't duck the spinning heel kick that meets him as he turns back around. Seaman drops a fist onto Hash's chest, causing the former NA champ to clutch his chest as he gets back to his feet. Seaman goes for a right hand, but Hash blocks and begins peppering Seaman with rights. Seaman goes for a forearm, but Hash ducks and this time leaps with a dropkick, catching Seaman in the jaw and knocking him down.

JT : Who does Hash think he is with all those crazy moves, Jean Claude van IthinkI'malltoughbutI'dgetmyasskickedbySimonSeamanjustlikeeveryoneelse Dam?

GP : He just did a dropkick, JT.

JT : Yeah, JUST a dropkick. And all the terrorists did was JUST blow up the World Trade Center.

GP : ...What in the fuck are you talking about?

JT : I'm talking about Hash has no chance against Simon Seaman, not even if he got ran over by a car and was found by a bunch of scientists and was completely reconstructed with steel as flesh and he could shoot rabid parakeets out of his eyes.

GP : Um, JT, Hash already DID beat Seaman, at May Mayhem. Remember?

JT : Mmmm, I'd prefer not to, so no.

Hash waits for Seaman to get to his feet, then charges with a clothesline that takes both men over the top rope and to the floor. The masked man jumps down off the apron, but instead of attacking Seaman he goes under the ring.

GP : Hmm, for some reason the masked man has just disappeared under the ring.

JT : I bet he's looking for his guitar!

GP : IT'S NOT FUCKING BOB DYLAN!

A few moments later, the man comes back out, having changed into a High Flyer mask with a matching "SNOW" shirt.

GP : Now I wonder why he did that.

JT : Maybe Bob's a High Flyer fan.

GP growls and punches JT in the face.

JT : OWW! OK, OK, I know Flyer sucks, but Bob might just have bad taste! Geez!

The masked man hops back up on the apron, not having done anything. Meanwhile, Seaman and Hash get back to their feet, already tired for some reason though they just started wrestling. I think it's cause the match writer is getting bored and wants to finish this match as quickly as possible. Anyway, Seaman boots Hash in the stomach and rolls him into the ring. He climbs up onto the apron and from there to the top rope and waits for Hash to get to his feet for the Silencer, but as soon as Hash gets up he dives for the rope and trips Seaman up. Seaman crotches himself and falls off the turnbuckle. Hash then crawls over and tags in Erik Blake, who rushes in starts stomping on the back of Seaman's head.

JT : Hey! That jobber can't do that to Seaman!

GP : Blake's not exactly a jobber anymore, JT. And apparently, he can do that, since he just did.

JT : I disagree.

GP : But ... he just did it.

JT : I said I disagree~!

GP : Fine, you don't have to use the tilde.

JT : Yes I do~!

GP : You're starting to sound like freakin' Tom.

GP gets crushed under seventy-six pounds of porn.

Nelson : Ha ha~!

Blake picks Seaman up and whips him into the ropes, hitting him with a spinebuster on the way back. Blake waits for Seaman to get to his feet and grabs him for the Highlighter (Diamond Cutter), but Seaman pushes him off into the ropes and runs with a corkscrew jumping clothesline, knocking Blake down as he comes back. He picks Blake back up and hooks him for the Vice Versa (Fisherman's DDT into Michinoku Driver). He lifts him up and brings him back down with the move, hooking the leg after he lands.

1...

2...

3!

GP : And Seaman eliminates Erik Blake with the Vice Versa!

JT : What happened to all the porn burying you?

GP : Um ... beavers?

JT : Makes sense.

The masked man rushes in and hits Seaman with a double axhandle from behind as he's getting up. Seaman falls forward and tags in Ash Robinson. Robinson rushes in, but gets kicked in the gut and nailed with Cold Snow, Flyer's signature palming DDT thingy.

JT : Bob keeps stealing Michael Jackson's moves!

GP : Actually, I think he's taking the move of whoever he has a mask of.

JT : Yeah, whatever. I don't really follow wrestling. Seems kinda gay to me.

GP : ...You really do keep getting stupider and stupider.

JT : Well, YEAH.

The masked man pins Robinson.

1...

2...

3!

GP : Well, Robinson didn't last too long against this guy.

JT : Yeah, I guess that's what happens when you suck.

GP : Yeah, I guess.

Nuke steps into the ring and charges towards the masked man, but gets taken off his feet with a hiptoss. He gets back to his feet but gets again taken down with a shoulderblock, and after that a spinning forearm. The masked man now picks Nuke up, but Nuke suddenly lunges and elbows the masked man viciously in the neck. When the man bends over to clutch his throat, Nuke grabs him by the head and hits Paranoia (implant DDT). He covers the man.

1...

2...

The masked man gets his shoulder up in the nick of time. Nuke pounds the mat in frustration, then pulls the man up to his feet, where he knees him in the groin.

GP : Nuke really knows no mercy.

JT : He's as vicious as a wallaby ... and not those cute wallabies either! The kinds that steal your babies and rape them!

GP : Wallabies do that?

JT : I dunno, probably.

Suddenly, the bell rings. Nuke looks up to find that the ref has disqualified him for excessive low blows. Nuke's look of shock turns to one of rage, as he kicks the referee swiftly in the balls and delivers the Burning Psychosis (underhook facefirst piledriver) to him. Nuke rolls out of the ring and storms up the entrance ramp to a chorus of boos.

GP : Damn it! Nuke's taken out our referee in a fit of rage!

JT : Heh heh, that silly Nuke.

After several moments, the man with the High Flyer mask gets back to his feet, but is felled once again with Simon Seaman's Silencer (top rope blockbuster). Try to say that five time fast, BITCH~! That is to say, Simon had climbed to the top rope while everybody was all distracteded. Seaman covers, but the ref is still down. Seaman jumps up in frustration, stomping over to the ref and trying to wake him. Seeing that this ref is out, he goes over to the ropes near the ramp and yells for another ref to come from the back. While this is happening, the masked man crawls over to his corner and tags in Hash. Finally, a ref starts running from the back and Seaman turns back around to cover the masked man, only to be confronted with Harold Hash, who greets him with the Kentucky (a bitch slap), knocking Seaman down.

GP : In addition to his self-appointed award for longest finisher name, I think Hash should also give himself one for most randomly named signature moves.

JT : True dat.

Seaman starts to get to his feet, but gets dropkicked in the back of the head by Hash. Hash then pulls Seaman up by the hair and takes him over to the corner, climbing up to the second rope and delivering the To make Tom, that evil mastermind genuis, happy I split up my finisher and making this the set up...I hope you are happy Tom, you're all happy aren't you? you doing a dance of joy about it, you think just cause your president you can make me do what ever you want me to do! You evil bastard you! (Diamond Dust).

GP : That's the set-up to ... well, you know.

JT : Pie?

GP : No, his finisher.

JT : ...Pie?

GP : Shut up.

JT : Awww...

Hash then scales the ropes and prepares for the This is a long name for a move that isn't all to impressive but i like cause I am like that, and if you don't like it you can suck on my toes till your nads fall off and smack you in the face...BWAHAHAHAHAHA, okay this is a really long name for a damn move, and it isn't all to descriptive and I know noone will ever call it that but I don't care, we are getting back to cause I am like that too, oh yeah this really isn't correct grammar. Barq's is the best Root Beer of all time. (450 leg drop), but he is suddenly shoved from behind by the masked man, who has changed into a Schitzo Tod mask. Hash goes flying off and lands with a thud by Seaman.

GP : The masked man just shoved his partner off the top rope! Why would he do that?

JT : I dunno, maybe cause I think this match is supposed to only have one winner, so if Hash pinned Seaman the match writer doesn't know what to do, since Hash and the masked man are on the same team. Or maybe just cause Bob Dylan is EEEEEVVVVIIILLLLL~~~!!!!

GP : Do I have to take away your tilde privileges?

JT : You and what army?

Both men lay still for several moments, but Hash is the first to his feet. He looks at the masked man and starts yelling at him, when suddenly he's rolled up from behind by Seaman, who grabs his tights.

1...

2...

3!


GP : Damn it! That snake Seaman just eliminated Hash, but he had to grab his tights to do it!

JT : HAD to ... or wanted to because he liked Hash's tights and wanted to get a closer look?

GP : Had to!

JT : Man, you are REALLY stretching for an excuse on that one.

Seaman jumps up and smirks at the booing fans, raising his arms in victory. However, Hash gets back up and shoves Seaman backward. Seaman gets mad and prepares to retaliate, when he is grabbed from behind by the man in the Tod mask and lifted up with the reverse DDT drop that Tod fancies winning matches with. The masked man covers.

1...

2...

3!

JT : NNNNOOOOO!!! I can't afford to lose any more money betting on Seaman! They're gonna take my dog!

GP : You don't have a dog.

JT : DAMN IT! THEY'VE ALREADY GOTTEN TO ME!!

Meygon : The winner, and advancing the CT finals ... THAT GUY IN THE MAAAASSSSSKKKKK!!!!

"Fuck Your Enemy" plays as the masked man celebrates in the ring, then heads to the back, probably to change masks a zillion more times. The hell in a Cell cage surrounding the ring, slowly begins to rise to the ceiling.

Cut backstage. We see Jack Breaker, strolling cautiously down one of those neverending backstage corridors. He has a lollipop stick clenched between his teeth and is carrying a goldfish bowl. As he walks, water spills haphazardly out of the overfilled bowl. We see ace IWO reporter Max Riot trailing close behind him, struggling to avoid slipping on the trail of water left by Jack's pet goldfish. He eventually catches up to Jack, and thrusts a microphone in his face.

Max: Hey, Jack, can we get a few words on your upcomming match with Schitzo Tod for the world title?

Jack: [Mumbling] Bacon sandwiches...

Max: Okaaaay. Can we get some intelligible words?

Jack: I dunno, that's asking an awful lot, don't you think?

We see someone else pass by, head turned down and away from the camera and face obscured by his hair. Jack and Max pay him no mind, and he passes by without sound or acknowlegment.

Max: Well, can you at least say something about Nuke's message to you at Takeover last week?

Jack: Why don't you go jump in a river, Max Riot?

Suddenly, Jack stumbles forward and hits the ground with a sickening thud. We see the mysterious stranger reappear, hair still covering his face and any exposed part concealed with a ragged strip of cloth. He drops to his knees and drives into Jack with some stiff forearms. Jack tries to protect his face with his hands, but the stranger counters that by wrenching his arm behind his back. He gets to his feet and starts stomping a hole in Jack's chest, drilling furiously with his boot.

The masked man turns to leave, and Jack is on his feet in a flash, fists raised in preparation. The man grabs him by the neck and tosses him into the wall. Jack collapses and the masked man suddenly charges from offscreen with a chair.

*CRACK!*

*CRACK!*


Two stiff shots to either side of Jack's head take him down once more as the masked man stands tall, viewing his handiwork and smirking to himself. He then takes off down the hall, kicking over Jack's fishbowl in the process. We close in on Jack's face. Blood trickles from the corners of his mouth and his nose, and his arm seems to be twisted precariously behind his back. The goldfish is flopping around next to him in a small puddle of water. We hold on that shot for a few moments as the EMTs rush to his aid, first making sure that the goldfish is allright before loading Jack onto a stretcher. We cut back to ringside.


GP: Oh my GOD! Did you see what just happened, JT?

JT: No, I was looking the other way and I had my fingers in my ears and my hands over my eyes so I couldn't see or hear the IWO-Tron.

GP: Well, fine. you don't have to get all sarcastic.

JT: ..no, I was being serious. What happened?

Finals of Conspiracy Theory
egg NOG, Bob Job, Tandem, Donnie Daze, & the Masked Man
vs. vs. vs. vs.

GP: And now, it's time for the Conspiracy Theory Final match~!

JT: Oh, puh-leeze... like I'm going to sit through this crap, with my two favorites eliminated. IT'S NOT RIGHT. GOD.

"Hyakugojyuuichi" began to play as Bob Job came back to the ring. The fans greeted him warmly, but Meygon did not.

Meygon: Coming down to the ring... oh, hell, we all know he's not winning this match... BOB JOB!

Bob Job entered the ring, and then "Dont Like The Drugs (But The Drugs Like Me)" by Marilyn Manson began to play, bringing out Tandem.

Meygon: Next... from Calgary, Canada... weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds... TANDEM!

Tandem entered, and was immediately attacked by the Masked Man, who just kind of ignored Bob Job. The Masked Man absolutely obliterated Tandem with a lariat, as "Killing the Fly" by Union Underground kicked in. The fans erupted as one of the IWO World Tag Team Champions, egg NOG, made his way to the ring. NOG entered the ring, and the Masked Man Who Kinda Looked Like Psycho Jay was immediately attacked by him.

Then, "Geronimo" by Unwritten Law began to play, drawing out Donnie Daze. The fans erupted heavilly in favor of Daze as he entered the ring and helped egg NOG double-team the Masked Man.

Bob Job looked around, before he looked down at his own shadow.

Bob Job: AHH!! SHADOW!!

He jumped back, right into Tandem, who caught him with what appeared to be a kick in the elbow. Bob Job immediately fell over and clutched his elbow like it was just shot with a shotgun. Tandem just shrugged and put his foot on Bob Job, and easilly got a three count.

Eliminated - Bob Job

GP: You have got to be kidding me.

JT: First he sees Bungle and gets eliminated... then he sees his shadow? Ugh. I hate these people SO much.

Tandem immediately went to pull egg NOG off of the Masked Man, allowing the Masked Man to throw Daze halfway across the ring. The Masked Man then avalanched Tandem and egg NOG in the corner before he hiptossed Tandem literally all the way across the ring. The Masked Man then pulled egg NOG to his feet and lifted him up on his shoulders before driving him down with a Death Valley Driver.

JT: You know, this Masked Man seems familiar somehow.

GP: What, you mean with the fact that he's built like a certain head-humper we all know?

JT: No, with the fact that he's wearing a Phelen Kell mask!

GP: Ugh...

Daze was back on his feet, but the Masked Man was there and he pulled Daze up into powerbomb position. Unfortunately for him, Daze immediately countered into a facebuster that bounced the Masked Man's face off of the mat.

GP: YOU CAN'T POWERBOMB DAZE~!

JT: Yes, you can. I'd do it, but... um... I cramped my hand this morning.

GP: Too much masturbating?

JT: I, er, yea- ...SHUT THE FUCK UP, PARKER.

Tandem went back to hitting at the downed NOG, before he scoop slammed egg NOG and climbed to the top rope, looking for his swanton bomb that was known as the 'Wings of the Seraph'. Unfortunately for him, egg NOG moved out of the way and Tandem crashed down on the mat. egg NOG pulled Tandem to his feet and took him into the corner, with the crowd yelling "3D!" the whole way. egg NOG hooked Tandem and leapt off.

GP: DAIRYTOWN DEATH DROP~!

JT: AHH! NO! NOT THE DAIRY GUY!

GP: COVER! ONE... TWO...

JT: AH!

GP: THREE!!

Eliminated - Tandem

Now it was down to egg NOG, Donnie Daze, and the Masked Man Who Kinda Looked Like Psycho Jay. egg NOG got to his feet, and was met by a garbage can lid by Donnie Daze. Apparently, he had found it under the ring while NOG was eliminating Tandem... along with other assorted objects.

GP: Oh no! It's a booshkie!

JT: A... what?

Indeed, the Masked Man had picked up what was apparently a stuffed animal called a "booshkie" and he waffled Donnie Daze with it. Daze just sort of turned around and looked at the Masked Man, with a look that could be best described as "WTF?!". The Masked Man looked at Daze, then at the booshkie, and then he just shrugged, tossed it aside, and kicked Daze directly in the nuts.

GP: ...that was... interesting.

The Masked Man then picked up egg NOG and set him up for a Sambo suplex, but egg NOG elbowed him a few times in the side of the head and then DDTed him into the mat. egg NOG then pulled Daze in and went for the Intoxicator v2.0, a driving Snow Plow, but unfortunately for him, we have deja'ed a vu already tonight, and Daze flipped up and over egg NOG before he grabbed him from behind.

And again, the fans exploded.

GP: DAZED AND CONFUSED~!

JT: AHHH!!! NOT HIM! ANYBODY BUT HIM!

GP: COVER!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THREE!!!

Eliminated - egg NOG

And then there were two, as it was down to Donnie Daze and the Masked Man. Both men got back to their feet, and then the Masked Man speared down Daze before punching him repeatedly with rights and lefts. Daze rolled over and returned the rights and lefts.

GP: Just think, JT! One of these two men could be the winner of the Conspiracy Theory match!

JT: PLEASE, GOD, ALLAH... WHATEVER DEITY I'M CURRENTLY BELIEVING IN... DON'T LET DAZE WIN!!!

GP: Right. Glad to know your priorities are straight.

Daze got back to his feet and waited for the Masked Man to do the same. When he did so, Daze kicked the Masked Man directly in the nuts and then landed a Cradle DDT to the mat. Daze looked over at a nearby corner, and he decided that now was the time to finish off the Masked Man. The fans erupted as they knew the Daze Blaze was coming, but then booed for some reason.

GP: WAIT A MINUTE! NO!

An unknown man, though it's pretty obvious that it's Daniel Phillips, quickly ran out and crotched Daze on the top turnbuckle. Phillips then grabbed a nearby steel chair and then proceeded to chairshot Daze right off of the top rope, and back into the ring. Phillips then left, smiling to himself that he, at least, kept Daze from winning another major event.

JT: YES!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU, DANNY! I AM SO PRAYING TO YOU FROM NOW ON!

GP: Have I mentioned that you are disgusting?

In the ring, the Masked Man got back up, blissfully unaware that Daniel Phillips has essentially handed him this match on a silver platter, and he picked up Donnie Daze, before slamming him down with a spinning sambo suplex, and then he made the cover.

GP: NO! ONE!!! TWO!!!

JT: YES!!

GP: THREE!!

Eliminated - Donnie Daze

Meygon: Your winner, and SOUL SURVIVOR OF CONSPIRACY THEORY~!....

Suddenly, the lights went out in the arena.

JT: HOLD ME~!

They return, and standing in the ring is the man known as Psycho Jay. But still inside, is the man in the masked. The fans are in shock, as Jay stands before the man dressed in the masked. Both men however, are wearing the same clothes.

GP: What the... I THOUGHT FOR SURE IT WAS PSYCHO JAY BEHIND THE MASK!

JT: Come on! That was too obvious! But Jay has definitly come back to pay this punk kid a lesson on building his name off of Jay's legacy!

Jay stands face to face with the man in the mask, and seems to look confused, not to meantion, tired and panting heavily. Suddenly, the man in the mask rips it off...

and it's Rob Kestler...

GP: Wait... huh?

JT: My thoughts exactly.

Jay and Kestler hug, and then leave the ring.

GP: Jay was just throwing us off track for a split second! He was the masked man all along!

World Heavyweight Championship Match
Schitzo Tod -c- vs. Jack Breaker
vs.

GP: And fans, now we come to the main event! Jack Breaker gets the shot at the title he won at May Mayhem, and goes against a very credible champion in Schitzo Tod!

JT: Credible my ass! Justin's done NOTHING in the WWF except job to Tommy Dreamer.

GP: I meant... credible, as in valid... not as in the wrestler by the same name.

The lights flickered at the top of the arena. The Hell In A Cell was lowered. Welcome, fans, to wrestling at its most dangerous.

Meygon was in the out of the ring, being the usual ring announcer, saying the usual stuff, exaggerating things to the point of boredom. That's when his theme hit.

"Date Rape" by Sublime played. The fans cheered. Hooray.

Schitzo Tod came from the back, looking at the ominousHell In A Cell structure above him. The main event was here. Conspiracy Theory match, he we go.

GP: And there's our champion! Schitzo Tod!

JT: Can't someone assisnate him already? COME ON YOU STUPID TERRORISTS! COLLECT YOUR BOUNTY!

GP: You have a bounty on Schitzo Tod's head?

JT: Yeah, an entire years supply of my pornography.

GP: Wow... you're serious about this!

The lyrics were blasting the fans as Tod walked calmly down to the ring. He seemed a little motivated to put on a good show. And a good show he would put on. He walked into the cell, and closed its door behind him. His IWO World Title belt was over his shoulder, and he was just playing the crowd up.

That's when Breaker's theme was supposed to hit.

Right?

Nope.

The Hollow. A Perfect Circle. The fans didn't know whether to cheer, boo, or what. Maybe Jack Breaker changed his theme.

GP: This isn't Breaker's theme. Where's the rainbows, sunshine, and lollipops!

JT: Or the tuna! There's no tuna!

That was all melted away in a mere span of seconds as a familiar face appeared from the backstage locker room. You might know him as an two time IWO World Heavyweight Champion. Or maybe as an two time North American Champion. Or the winner of the first IWO Major Push Tournament.




GP: ... Dear Heavens!

JT: Holy Christ!

That's right. Action! Wrestling superstar, and IWO legend, Syphon Fission. He strolled out to the fans, which were unsure of what to make of this. What was he doing here? Was he wrestling in place of Breaker?

He walked down to the ring, his shovel, Payback as he calls it, in his hands. Fission walked into the cell, closed the door, and locked it. There was no referee in the ring. That should have sent shock waves right there. It didn't.

GP: What the hell is going on?!? Is Syphon Fission challehitzo Tod?

JT: Dude, this isn't in the memo.

GP: That's cuz I don't think it's planned JT!

JT: Oh, well, GO SYPHON! COLLECT YOUR BOUNTY!

The fans, the wrestlers, and everyone in between didn't know what to make of it. Tod stood there with a grin on his face. Fission's face was twisted into a scary smile. The bell rang and the fans didn't know what they were going to see. They just were overwhelmed by a sickening smell.

Tod shoved Fission. No reaction for Syphon. Tod was still grinning for some odd reason. And then, the night became a lot grimmer. Fission used his left fist to punch Tod right in his nose.

Tod fell to the mat. And his nose was gushing blood. It knocked his glasses off, and it made the crowd boo. Tod's smile, needless to say, was gone.

GP: ...

JT: BLOOOOOO-... wait... that wasn't supposed to happen...

Fission gave Schitzo Tod a hard soccer kick to the ribs, and then got on his knees and started choking his foe. Tod was still suffering from the shock of having his nose broken by the much larger Syphon Fission. Fission now used his left hand to pin Tod down by his neck, following it up with right hooks to Schitzo Tod's lower jaw.

Blood was exiting his mouth at a rapid rate, and the blood he spit up into his eyes was blurring his vision. But Schitzo Tod was, behind all the gimmick stuff he played off of; he was really a fighter. And the adrenaline needed to defend himself was kicking in.

Tod used his right forearm and clubbed Fission over his head as hard as he could. Fission immediately grabbed his forehead, allowing Tod to gain an advantage. Tod tackled Fission to the mat and started crushing his face with lefts and rights. He wouldn't stop until Fission's eyes were both black and blue, his nose bleeding, and his mouth spitting up the crimson liquid.

GP: Dear God! This isn't a wrestling bout! This is a fight! Someone stop this!

JT: No, come on, it's just like a mexican cock fight. I got twenty on the guy with the shovel, anyone wanna take me up?

Tod dismounted Fission, and climbed the top rope. He knew Fission was reeling, so he needed to use him quick strike ability to put this large man away. The fans saw the instant transformation of the usual Tod match. That being from a little humorous to deathly serious.

The need for precision was necessary. Tod used his hands to measure out the distance between Fission and himself. He then leaped high into the air.

His body did half a revolution.

And then he did the slight turn.

Swanton Bomb on Syphon Fission~!

GP: TOD WITH A BEAUTIFUL WRESTLING MOVE! BAM, Fission is down!

But, something happened right here. At the same times, Fission and Tod got up. Tod's stomach dropped. Fission, a bloody mess already, was smiling.

JT: ... But not for long...

Right Punch. Left Punch. Right Punch. Left Punch. Roundhouse kick to the temple. Fission went to work on the smaller, but still powerful Tod. The kick sent the IWO World Champion to the mat right on the back of his neck. Tod was reeling as of now, and didn't know what exactly to do.

Fission picked up Schitzo Tod, and Death Valley Drivered him into the mat. This was his first wrestling related move in the match. Fission was standing over top of a down Tod, and snickered.

GP: SPICOLLI DRIVER by Fission! And .... he's just smiling?

That is, until Tod got his foot to connect with Fission's nuts. He immediately hit the mat, grabbing his "boys", and started screaming like a wounded animal.

Fission lost the drive to get up, but his mind changed the second Tod stalked over him with his own bloody weapon. Payback was clasped in his hands, and he went right to him, ready to splatter Fission's brains all over the mat.

SLAM~!

JT: NO! Not Tod with the shovel, my bets on the lunatic Fission with the shovel! Can't you people keep my bets straight?!? *mumbles* idiot bookies.

Tod hit the mat. Fission had rolled to his feet, and gave the Schitzo a pump kick that would decapitate a teenager. Payback flung out of his hands, and Tod fell back to the mat.

Fission crawled over the Tod, who was close to going out of conscience. That's when Syphon Fission sunk his teeth into Tod's right cheek, and didn't let go until he heard a piercing shriek that followed the taste of a rush of crimson. Fission spit the blood onto the mat, and Tod's anger took over. He used his left forearm to club Syphon's face, which was an effective tool.

Tod used his strength and picked up Fission, and planted him with an inverted DDT. He would have pinned, but as said earlier, there was no referee. Tod looked around, and realized that this match seemed to be played under Asylum rules. Thus, meaning no rules at all. Tod stood and gave Fission a solid soccer style kick to the head, breaking his melon even further open.

More and more, the people were getting not a wrestling match, but a gorefest. And the sad thing? They loved every single fucking second of it all. The blood. The violence. The pure punches and kicks in that cell were making people think less of other IWO wrestlers, and more of Schitzo Tod. Slowly, but surely, Tod was garnering a controlling interest of the fans in the stands. And you, at home watching this, started cheering for him too.

GP: ... I just.. I'm speachless.

JT: And that's a good thing.. but at what.. *cringe* price?

Tod's usual funny manner of doing things was not happening. He had a scowl on his face. He had blood all over his clothes. He looked like a crazy ass fighter, not a funny guy wrestler. Tod grabbed into his pocket, and pulled out a small blade. This would have been used to cut his head open in the match, but he didn't really need it in this real fight.

He slowly cut the top ring rope, and seeing as how it wasn't made of cable, it wasn't that hard. He would kick Fission's skull every so often, keep him down. When this was done and over with, Tod dragged the now broken apart ring rope, and wrapped it around the neck of Syphon Fission. Tying it into a makeshift knot, he began choking the large man.

GP: Dear God! Someone needs to get these two seperated before they go insane!

Signals were going off in Fission's brain. He had to kick this fight into high gear. He grabbed the ring rope, and pulled himself over to Tod, and gave him a mammoth Clothesline From Hell. It dropped the smaller Tod, and forced Fission to crash to the mat. They would both stay motionless on the mat, as Fission untied the knot and threw the rope off his neck.

Fission crawled over the edge of the mat, and reached under the ring apron. He grabbed something.

A torch. Fission started a blaze, and threw it at the Hell In A Cell. For a second, the fans were shocked. Then, the sound of fire brought all except Fission back to reality. At such time, the cell was in flames. The man in charge during the evening saw this in the back, and immediately tried to have the cell removed. The crane that lowered the cell lifted it up, but it broke the cell in the process.

JT: Oh... My... God!

GP: What... the?

What was left was a four-foot square excess over the mat, no ring ropes, not to mention the still burning flames. Talk about your dangerous stuff.

Tod and Fission both stood. The fans thought they saw something strange. Two warriors, bloody, damn near broken, and fighting in a pure fight. Fission then took the first attempt to hit Tod. Tod went to counter punch, only to be met with a hard right hand. Fission used left after right, right after left, until Tod hit the mat.

GP: Tod's down! Tod's down! *covering mic, but audible* WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON JT?

He was in trouble.

Fission went to pick him up, but as he did, something happened.

Steel on bone.

Tod had picked up Fission's bent and bloody shovel and swung it at Fission's skull in response. Advantage: Schitzo Tod.

Tod picked up the downed Syphon Fission, and put him in a reverse face lock. Schitzo Tod then lifted Syphon Fission up, and drove him deep into the middle of the mat. The fans roared into cheers. If the match was contested under Asylum rules, like it seemed to be, Tod needed only grab Syphon Fission and send him over the top of the flaming mesh.

GP: This... this isn't happening...

So, he picked up Syphon, and started to go that route. Until he noticed something a little too late.

Fission. Payback. Bam~!

Syphon Fission's swing caused such bad whiplash that Tod flipped one full revolution in the air before landing on the back of his head. The pooling of a combination of black and deep red blood started collecting underneath his skull.

GP: I... I can't call this...

Fission double underhooked Tod. He screamed a victory scream. And he landed.

Death Plunge.

Tod was done with, wasn't he?

Fission dragged Payback's spade through the blood. He had let the blood of his other victims mingle with that of its latest kill. And Fission sensed all was over. He, however, didn't see Tod come back after spending a full minute on the mat.

JT: This... this is... war. I think I'm gonna second Greg on this and tell someone to GET THE HELL OUT HERE!

Schitzo Tod wasn't fighting for his title. He was fighting for his life. And his body was fighting for him now, not his mind. He was in a fighters utopia. Where there is no sense of place, only a sense of violence caused by one.

Tod's face was covered in blood. Fission's eyes were just opened wide as Tod speared him to the ground and started raining down punches. And he didn't stop for two minutes. It only stopped when Tod's arms grew tired. And thus, the match was over.

Tod picked up Syphon Fission, and then went to throw him over the flaming mesh. That was when Fission reacted out of pure need and took Tod with him, weighing the flight down, and sending both men into the flaming cell mesh.

Tod's clothes lit on fire. Fission rolled away from the flames. Tod struggled to put the flames out, as Fission got to his feet and threw Tod head first into the mesh. It burned Tod, and caused a scream. Tod was losing a match where if he did, he would probably never walk again.

JT: CHRIST! STOP DROP AND ROLL! I may dislike Tod, but I don't want him dead. Maybe maimed, but not dead!

Fission rolled Tod back into the ring, and put him into a lower body cradled DVD position. He jumped from the ring, and landed the most devastating move in IWO history.

Faded Dreams.

JT & GP: ...

It was Simon Seaman. He had jumped the guardrail and went over to the announcer's table. Seaman pointed towards the time keepers table and demanded that they stop the match, that this fight be over. With all his distaste to the IWO shown over the past couple of weeks, he didn't want to see what else Fission would do to an unconsious Tod.

And he was right to have the match stopped...

The bell rang.

Meygon: Your... winner? And NEW... World Heavyweight CHAMPION! Syphon... FISSION~!

The Hollow blared over the speakers.

And the fans were in shock as Tod didn't move. He fought as hard as he could, but it didn't matter. He lost. And the chances of him wrestling again were probably ended.

For the third time in his wrestling career, he was the IWO World Heavyweight Champion. His three title reigns were second on the all time list. The second Fission grasped that belt, he smiled through his blood.

He walked around the ring with the fans still in awe.

Their old hero.

Wait.

Joey Malone was their old hero. Syphon Fission was their whipping boy.

Well, who made history? Who finished the most controversial match in the entire history of the IWO?

Syphon Fission.

Just by doing this, the name Joey Malone was diminished in this company. The credibility of pushing back Fission in favor of Malone was looking stupid right now, to the average fan. They thought this was supposed to happen.

It damn sure wasn't.

Tod didn't move, even as Simon Seaman jumped the guardrail and stomped him like a wrestler would. This was supposed to be a part of the whole thing. He was just following the orders of those above him. He was worried for Tod's safety just as much as you were. He didn't stomp long before locking Tod in a loose sleeper, in an attempt to have Tod rest as well as put his fight over. The mesh was cooled down with fire extinguishers.

Fission entered the ring, and grabbed Payback, and dragged it behind himself. Tod was busy getting attention from the EMT's.

At the top of the entrance, Fission raised Payback with his left hand. The dying image to Conspiracy Theory was like the last one. Fission was the champion.

This time, however, something was wrong.

You were in awe, just like everyone else. You couldn't stop staring until well after the show was over. Then, you continued on with your normal life.

The end. Loser.

GP: I don't know what to say folks.... join us next weekend for... Beach Party?

JT: Holy christ...

**FADE**

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