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Beach Party VI


June 30th, 2002

The IWO logo beated onto the screen three times, before being struck by lightning and erupting in flames. Slowly, it faded, out into a beautiful beach like setting. A bleacher was set up on each side, as a ring sat in the middle of the four bleachers. Greg Parker and JT sat at a poorly constructed announce table that looked more like just one of the tables that the wrestlers would break.

GP: Fans! Welcome to Beach Party! I am here with my cohost JT!

JT: Crap, I can't even put my coffee on the fucken table, it just falled right through and breaks the table. Shoody sawdust.

GP: Excuse my partner, who's BREAKING KAYFABE, but tonight, we've got an awesome line up for you, including two matches that actually take place away from here!

JT: That's like, right! We don't actually have to be in the ARENA for that stupid Invitational... although we will be for that historic and painful beating that is Life Death and Endurance 3... I've got enough coffee to get me through five hours!

GP: Not only that, but Schitzo Tod battles Simon Seaman, Nuke battles Kestler for his IWO contract, and Psycho Jay and Jack Breaker do battle for the Number One Contendership! Let's get right into it with our opening match, a Crusier Weight specticule!

Crusier Weight Match
Tommy Kane vs. Jackson Steele
vs.
GP: Right now we have yet another promising high flying cruiserweight match up. These two men have faced off with each other on many other occasions and have really blown the roof off of the arena. This could be the single most important match in IWO History!

JT: Why do you do that?

GP: And what would that be?

JT: Do a horrible Tony Schivone impression before each match.

GP: I'm insulted.

JT: I'm sure you are, I'm sure you are.

GP: Kane vs. Steele another IWO Classic!

JT: Please shut up before I beat you like a red headed step child.

GP: Hey, if I don't hype the match who will?

JT: ME!

GP: Like I said who will hype the match?

JT: The Insane Luchador or Physco Steve…Tommy Kane newly IWO appointed managers to try and give this box of rocks a personality. MY NAME IS TOMMY KANE! YOU SUCK AT LIFE! BLAH! BLAH! BLAH!

GP: He is a tremendous wrestler though.

JT: So is Jackson Steele!

GP: That's why this could be the single handedly most….

JT: I WILL EAT YOUR CHILDREN IF YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE TONY!

GP: Anything you say Bobby Heenan.

JT: Lets go down to ring side to "Mean" Gene Meygon

Meygon: Introducing first from Providence, Rhode Island…standing 6 feet and 3 inches tall weighing 225 pounds TOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYY KANNNNNEEEEE!!!!!

'Slave to Grind' by Skid Row blast over the PA system and Tommy Kane attempts to walk out from behind the curtains but is unexpectedly pushed out of the way by his new managers Physco Steve and The Insane Luchador! The fans are now cheering him instead of booing him like they used to do every night. He finally catches up with his posse as he walks down to the ring. He yells at Luchador and Steve to stay out of the way as he gets into the ring.

JT: Hey Insane Luchador has a microphone!

Insane Luchador: -Ayyyy Caramba!!!! Quietza Las Ropas Todas Las Chicas! Now for all you stupid Americans that means, To all the ladies take off your clothes!

JT: Whoa, Whoa…I like this guy.

GP: You would.

Insane Luchador: You see me and Steve are here to give this Irish mang some flava…to spice him up a bit essa.

Steve: Itchy, Scratch, Itchy.

JT: Simple yet so very true.

GP: Wow, Steve was itchy, he scratched his ass, and he was still itchy…..he is a genius.

Meygon: And lastly to the ring…from Castle Rock, Colorado…standing 6 feet tall and weighing 216 pounds…JAAAACKKSSSONNNNNN
STTTTTTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLEEEEEE!!!!

'Titty Twister' by Diesel Boy blast over the PA system and out walks Jackson Steele…He stands on the entrance ramp for a few seconds looking out at the crowd then he walks down to the ring and gets in.

JT: WOW! Look at the tits on Steve!

GP: I'd rather not.

JT: No look!

GP: I'm sorry I thought you were Heenan but your really Lawler.

JT: PUPPIES!

GP: GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!

*Ding, Ding, Ding*

Kane attacks Steele from behind! Steele stumbles forward and is then drop kicked into a turnbuckle by the Dastardly Tommy Kane. Kane then grabs the inside of Steele and rolls him over with a small package.

1…

Easy kickout by Steele who now grabs Kane and sends him running into the ropes. Kane comes back with a big shoulder bumb and then goes running back to the ropes and comes back with a quick leg drop right across the face of Steele.

JT: I wanna see some high flying moves.

GP: Yes as many of our fans do.

JT: Yes but I want to see them more.

TK now drop kicks Steele out of the ring. Steele begins to get back on his feet slowly recovering when Tommy Kane comes diving through the ropes crashing into Steele sending him into the secruity wall seperating the wrestlers and the fans.

JT: OH MY GOD! OH MY! OH MY!

GP: Is this commentary impersonation night?

JT: There are karoke nights…why not commentary impersonation nights?

Both men now trade wild punches outside the ring. Steve gets on the ring apron and begins to distract the referee while The Insane Luchador gets on the apron also and goes running off the apron at both Kane and Steele and connects with a twisting body dive which knocks all of them down to the ground.

GP: What an Insane move by The Insane Luchador!

JT: Hence the adjective…Insane in front of Luchador.

GP: I realized that

JT: No you didn't…just admit it.

TK looks a little surprised at what the Luchador has just done. But he grabs Steele by his tights and rolls him back into the ring. TK then slides into the ring and Steve stops distracting the referee. Kane makes another cover

1…

2…

Kick out by Steele who seems to realize that he has a very up hill match to wrestle with Luchador and Steve aiding Kane. Steele and Kane grapple in the middle of the ring and Steele is able to belly to back suplex Tommy into the middle of the ring. This allows for Jackson to apply a reverse choke hold.

GP: I THINK HE'S GONNA TAP!

JT: No one has tapped out to a reverse choke hold since….since….since….well a long time ago.

GP: Thank you very much Mr. Wrestling.

Kane is able to reach the ropes and then is pulled to safety outside the ring by Physco Steve who allows TK to rest on his shoulder. But in the ring Jackson looks to be ready to leap off the top turnbuckle. Kane finally turns around and Steele comes flying off the turnbuckle and hits the Bunnycanrana which sends Kane onto his back.

GP: BUNNYCANRANA! BUNNYCANRANA!

JT: SLOBERKNOCKER! BARN BURNER! KANE BEING BEATEN LIKE A GOVERNMENT MULE!

GP: Please Stop.

Insane Luchador and Physco Steve both realize that the match is slipping away so Luchador jumps into the ring and grabs the referee and keeps him away from where Steve, TK, and Steele are.

GP: Another distraction by Kane's managers! This is so uncalled for!

JT: Not to mention….I LOVE IT!

This allows for Steve to grab a chair and smack it across Steele's back! The sound of the chair echos throughout the arena as Steele falls to the ground. Steve continues to hit Steele with the chair until TK gets up and rips the chair out of his hand and places it on Steele. TK then climbs to the top rope and jumps off and nails a 450 Twisting Moonsault onto Steele and the chair!

JT: NOW THAT'S SIMPLY SENSATIONAL!

GP: What a impressive move by TK!

Steve then rolls both TK and Steele into the ring. Kane draps his arm over steele and the referee counts

1…

2…

3…

Meygon: Your winner, via pinfall, Tommy Kane!

GP: AND A FOUR FIFTY TWISTING MOONSAULT DOES JACKSON STEELE IN! I can only think that both Daze and Phillips better be looking over their backs in the short coming!

"What now?"

Tom Ford poked his head up from his paperwork. The former World Champion, Schitzo Tod, was leaning over Ford's desk.

"Hi, Tod."

For a minute there was silence. Tod reached into his back pocket and pulled a slip of paper. He threw it on Ford's desk.

"What's this?" Ford unfolded the paper.

"My resignation notice." Tod replied. "I figure I'd give it to you myself. Rather then mail it in. Don't worry, though. I'm still going to wrestle tonight."

Ford leaned back, and let out a long sigh.

"Well" he started "Is there any particular reason you want to leave? Rashard Clark?"

"Tom... I'm feeling like I'm not welcome. I'm a moron... In and out of the ring. Nobody takes me seriously."

"You put on a good show last week."

"I don't care... I can't do it anymore. Tonight's my last night."

"If that's what you want... Tod."

"Yeah... That's what I want."

The two exchange a handshake, as the camera pans out.

Banderas vs. Tandem
vs.

GP: Well, it's time for the biggest match of this show!

JT: What, the main-event already?

GP: No, you silly goose. Banderas versus Tandem!

JT: OHMYFUNKENGOD!! Those two suck so much ass!

GP: Maybe, but I'm sure the card writer will do a good job of putting these two guys over.

JT: Your mom's hot, right?

GP: ...

JT: LOOK!! IT'S MY OLD COLLEGE BUDDY, JEREMY WEIMS THE NINTH!!

GP: You went to college? AHAHAHA YAY!

As a funny looking chap makes his way over to GP & JT, he thrusts his pelvis a bit, which makes a couple of the elderly woman in the crowd orgasm; yes, elderly woman CAN orgasm. Suddenly, Tandem appears in the ring by magic, wearing blue swimming trunks.

JT: WEIMS!! BEEN A LONG TIME!!

JWTN: BITCHSMACK~!

And with that, Jeremy Weims The Ninth delivers a stunning bitchsmack to JT. GP celebrates by rubbing his cock, and also gets a bichsmack for his troubles. Meanwhile, in the ring, Tandem is stretching out.. ready to take on the man he hates the most.

The Colombian BadArse himself.

Who comes running to the ring with a bottle of Coke in his hand; wearing a pair of orange shorts, Banderas looks as focused as he will ever be. Tandem snarls at the Colombian as the latter rolls into the ring, and with Meygon seemingly not bothered to introduce these two jobbers, Banderas gets the match started.

By throwing the bottle of Coke at Tandem.

JWTN: Great throw by Banderas.

GP: You bitchsmacked me, you asshole.

JT: And me too!!!

GP: Well, you've been smacked by Nikki to the point where you don't actually feel it.

JWTN: Look! Tandem has gotten back to his feet, and he's mad as a bull.

JT: Tandem has feet?

GP: AND BANDERAS EXECUTES A DROPKICK!!

JT: ...Which has laid out the referee. I tell you, referees getting knocked out is the oldest trick in the book. Bloody matchwriters!

JWTN: BITCHSMACK~!

GP & JT cower in fear, as a couple of the fans pull the unconscious referee out of the ring and throw him into the sea. Meanwhile, Banderas gets hammered with a sidekick to his head by Tandem, who follows up with a shoddy looking clothesline.

JWTN: Shoddy looking clothesline there.

GP: I thought you were gonna bitchsmack us?

JWTN: Nah, I just like saying the word.

JT: Faggot.

*SMACK*

JT: Dude... that just brought back so many memories.

Back in the ring, Tandem pulls Banderas up and whips him into one of the four corner turnbuckles, and upon impact, the Colombian slumps down to the mat, his ass now rooted to the canvas. Tandem struts over and looks at a couple of the spectators playing volleyball. Big mistake, as Banderas springs to life~! Well, not really; he merely pulls down Tandem's swimming trunks.

GP: Great move by Banderas!! Wait, Tandem isn't a chick! MY EYES!! MY EYES!!

JT: Oh, stop your whining. Tandem has another pair of trunks underneath.

GP: Really?

JT: Yep. Wait, aren't I supposed to be the one acting crazy? You're supposed to be the rational one!

*SMACK*

JT: HEY! Only my buddy Weims can bitchsmack me!

*SMACK*

GP: I'm sure we could call Nikki down here....

*SMACK*

JWTN: Shud der fook up, you.. um.. lesbian lovers!

The female patrons of the beach are disappointed at not being able to see Tandem's crotch, and so is Banderas. Or maybe that's just fear in his eyes. Enraged that the Colombian would try such a trick, Tandem drives his right knee into Bandy's head, totally knocking the latter out. Satisfied, Tandem grabs his opponent's legs and drags Bandy to the middle of the ring, before making a gay-ass cover.

GP: There's no referee. Well, there was.. he's being eaten alive by a shark now.

JWTN: BITCHSMACK~!

JT: Serves that bastard right; what kind of referee gets knocked out after only twenty seconds?

Furious, Tandem gets up and begins shouting at Meygon, the announcer, who's getting boned by High Flyer. Meygon simply gives Tandem the middle finger, before she orgasms. The crowd cheer for the free sex show they are witnessing, and a beach ball is tossed into the ring.

Hitting Tandem in the head.

And knocking him out too.

GP: Wait, there's the replacement referee!

JT: Replacement killer? Yikes!

JWTN: Folks, fEar Wrestling rocks.

JT: ...

GP: ...

JWTN: IT DOES~!

GP: Anyway, the referee finishes the last of his hot-dog and slides into the ring... JUST AS BANDERAS MAKES THE LAMEST ASS COVER I HAVE EVER SEEN!!

JT: THAT MEXICAN GAYBOY'S GONNA WIN IT!!!!!!!

GP: ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JT: TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JWTN: KICK-OUT!! OH, WHAT A KICK-OUT!! STONE COLD!! STONE COLD!! STONE COLD!!

GP: ...

Tandem barely kicks out, and Banderas looks disappointed that he didn't win the match right then and there. He gets up, and accidently trips over the beach ball, drawing huge cheers from the crowd. Tandem gets up, sees Banderas knocked out, and smiles.

GP: What's Tandem gonna do with that beach ball?

JT: Rape your mom, I presume.

JWTN: BITCHSMACK~!

GP: Well, you're wrong, JT. Looks like Tandem is eating the beach ball.

JT: WOW!! REALLY? YOU DON'T SAY?

Having consumed the beach ball, Tandem ascends to the top of a corner turnbuckle and jumps off, connecting with an elbow drop. Getting up, he once again climbs to the top of a turnbuckle.. this time, scoring with a leg-drop, before making the cover.

GP: ONE!!!!!!!!!

JT: TWO!!!!!!!! Wait, why do you always have to count first?

JWTN: Banderas kicked out! That lamer wasn't supposed to kick out.. or so it says in the script.

GP: THE SCRIPT! AHHHH!!! I FORGOT TO BURN IT!!!!!

GP grabs the script and runs towards a BBQ pit. He tosses the script into the fire and grabs a piece of uncooked hamburger meat, before rushing back to the announce table.

JT: That was fast.

GP: Not as fast as your mom!

JWTN: BURN! DUDE, HE SO GOT YOU THERE!! AND HE'S RIGHT TOO! YOUR MOM ORGASMS WAY TOO QUICKLY!

JT: Why you little.....

As JT strangles Jeremy Weims The Ninth in classic Homer Simpson style, Tandem tosses Banderas out of the ring and flings himself over the ropes, hoping to land on the Colombian. Banderas rolls out of the way though, and Tandem crashes face-first into the sand. A drunk surfer then staggers over and pukes all over Tandem, just seconds before a security officer knocks the surfer out with a baton and begins to anally rape him.

GP: There goes any shot of getting back cable...

By now, Banderas has regained his footing.. and being the opportunist that he is, grabs the security officer's baton. Tandem pulls himself up, but is immediately knocked back down courtesy of a wicked baton shot by Bandy. The crowd pop big time, and Banderas promptly makes the cover. The referee, however, is too busy getting head from a fat bloke.

GP: This time, it's Banderas who gets cheated out of a sure victory! On the other hand, that fat guy looks like a master cocksucker.

Upset, Banderas gets up and turns Tandem over, before licking the vomit off his opponent's back. The crowd look on, shocked that the Colombian would do such a thing. But only one fan is smiling, and even clapping his hands.

Well, if you count the fat bloke who's giving head, that's two guys clapping their hands at the moment.

Tommy Dreamer: Man, you and I could be brothers. Can I lick the rest of the vomit off his back?

Banderas: YAH!!

Banderas and Tommy Dreamer give each other high-fives, before Dreamer picks up where Banderas left off. The Colombian, exhausted, strolls down the beach and upon reaching the water, giggles like a school-girl. He bends down and washes his feet with the sea-water, until a familiar figure walks up to Banderas.

JT: Hey! It's Ricky Martin!

GP: YEAGH! Wait, I thought you were strangling your college buddy?

JT: Yeah, but he's dead now, so.. yeah.

GP: HE'S DEAD? DUDE, I WANTED TO KILL HIM!

Ricky Martin and Banderas exchange loving looks, before Banderas jumps to his feet and hugs the man who sings his theme song. Which now blares over the speakers, sending the crowd into a frenzy state of dancing. As Ricky looks over Bandy's shoulder, a look of fear paralyses the Latin music superstar.

Ricky Martin: OH NO!! AN IWO EVENT? AHHHH!! I'M GONNA DIE~!

Ricky then punches Banderas in the gut and jumps into the water, swimming away as quickly as he can. Banderas lays on the sand, clutching his rib-cage in obvious pain. Either that or he has a menstrual cramp.

JT: Why does Ricky hate us?

GP: Remember Beach Party 1999?

JT: OH!! LMAO!! That was super fun!!

GP: .. LMAO?

JWTN: BITCHSMACK~!

JT: AHHHHHH!! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!!

JWTN: Really? Why you little...

Now, Weims begins to strangle the living hell out of JT, just as Banderas struggles to his feet and staggers back to the ringside area. Imagine his shock when he sees Tandem beating the shit out of Tommy Dreamer with a hi-fi player. Shocked, Banderas turns and begins to tiptoe away.. but Tandem spots his nemesis escaping and throws the hi-fi at him.

GP: Whoa, Tandem should play for the Atlanta Braves. Or something.

The crowd jeers GP for his lame comment.

GP: I'm sowwy.

Meanwhile, Tandem rolls Banderas back into the ring just as the second referee zips up his pants and the security officer orgasms in the surfer's ass. Tandem himself is about to re-enter the ring, until he spots a football; or soccer ball for all them YANKS; and a comb. He picks the two items up and tosses them into the ring, before he ascends to the top of the turnbuckle. Again.

GP: I apologise on the match-writer's behalf for his derogatory remarks towards us YANKS. I mean, come on.. soccer is WAY cooler than football.

JWTN: Yup. But lingerie snatching is the best sport ever.

GP: Amen to that, brother. Hey, where's JT?

JWTN: I dunno. I strangled him until he went limp. So I got bored and went to get a milk-shake. I think that High Flyer dude kidnapped JT.

GP: Remind me to get High Flyer a gift later on; wait, what's Banderas doing with the SOCCER BALL? Ha, take that, matchwriter!! IN YOUR FACE!!

JWTN: Actually, in Tandem's face.

Indeed; with Tandem struggling to stay balanced on the top of the turnbuckle, Banderas strikes the ball and bends it like Beckham, with devastating effect. The ball hits Tandem square in the face, and he flies out of the ring and through a table where many a woman have been fucked like wild beasts. The crowd go absolutely crazy and begin to chant Bandy's name.

GP: Banderas is Colombian, but he sure bent it better than that Beckham fool.

JWTN: LOL!

Banderas begins to celebrate in the ring, but his celebration is cut short after only three minutes, when Tandem recovers and makes his way back into the ring. The Colombian's face is pale with fear as Tandem begins to walk towards him.. but by some twisted luck, Tandem somehow trips over the comb he himself brought into the ring, and lays sprawled on the mat, completely knocked out. The spectators are confused, but Banderas simply walks over and makes the cover.

GP: This could be it!! Banderas hooks the legs after an astounding move!

JWTN: What move? Tandem tripped over a comb, for crying out loud!

GP: I know; think of the ratings!

JWTN: Good point!

GP: ONE!!!!!!!!

JWTN: TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GP: THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!! BANDERAS WINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!! BANDERAS WINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

JWTN: Yup. Anyway, I'm out of here. BYE~!

Jeremy Weims The Ninth disappears into thin air, Banderas jumps up and down in the ring, and JT is seen staggering back to the announce table, covered in snow. All in all, a great match with some incredible action.

Bob Job vs. Bungle
vs.

GP: Right now we have two of the IWO's most feared wrestlers. Oh who am I kidding, these guys fear their own mothers!

JT: Don't YOU fear your own mother, Greg?

GP: I... I.... of course I don't.

JT: What we're about to see is probabaly the most appauling "wrestling" match in the history of the IWO, so if you come here for the technical grappling likes of Syphon Fission and Simon Seaman, then this isn't your thing.

GP: However, if you came here to see a hopeless midget against a man in a bear suit, then keep watching. Because this is as stupid as they come.

"Carnaval 2002" by Dario G began to play as Bob Job walked out to the ring skipping with glee. The fans greeted him warmly, but Meygon did not, as usual.

Meygon: Oh crap, not this guy again..... he comes out every week, and we all know he's not gonna win again. Ladies and gentlmen.......BOB something or other, who the hell cares.

Bob Job entered the ring to a mediocre pop, as 'Song 2' by Blur errupted through the speakers.

Meygon: And his opponent, from England, just like his opponent, weighing at two hundred and thirty six pounds. Da British Brown Bear ...and rapper. BUUUNNNGGGLEEE!

Bob, unaware of who he was facing, looked up at the entrance ramp and gasped.

He had seen Bungle on British television and always feared him. Bungle nervously walked down the ramp and began circling the ring. he made his way around towards the announce table and ducked behind them, attempting to hide himself from Bob.

JT: What the hell?

GP: Bungle is scared of Bob Job!

JT: Why would ANYONE be afraid of.....that!

JT points to Bob who has curled up in a ball and gone to sleep in the middle of the ring. Bungle slowly crawls out from behind the announcers and slides into the ring. He tiptoes upto his opponent, shaking.

GP: As little chance as there is of this being a 'regular' matchup anyway, I have to say I hope there is no outside interference from the likes of Pen.

JT: I hope their is outside interference from Pen. That devious midget; Bob would be the ultimate heel! He'd be great...

GP: How could Bob Job be 'great' at anything in wrestling?

JT: Well Bungle was hardly destined to become a wrestling legend. The man wears a bear suit, from an old British kids programme, for christ sake!

GP: I guess you're right, JT. God only knows what Tom Ford was thinking when he gave these two a contract.

Meanwhile, Bungle began to poke Bob while he was sleeping in the middle of the ring. He poked him in the head, but nothing happened. So he poked him in the side of his stomach.

Bob: AHAHAHAH.... that tickles :P

Bob lept up in the air wriggling about the place. Bungle was startled and backed away into the corner. Bob stopped laughing and looked at Bungle. he too was scared and backed into the other corner.

GP: Both men are scared of each other! What a matchup we are going to have here... *sigh*

JT: I feel sorry for the fans.

GP: I feel sorry for the Referee.

Bungle began to edge forward, as did Bob. Bob raised his arms shwoing his knuckles to Bungle, who gasped and turned to face the ropes. Bob then attempted a drop kick, but missed completley. Bungle noticed that he had 'attempted' pull it off, and flung himself through theropes anyway, even though it was clear from the camera angle that he hadn't been touched at all!

JT: What the...

GP: I'd like to remind our fans at home that this is REAL wrestling! The IWO
is real, folks. I swear it.

Bungle climbed to his feet and entered the ring again, as Bob layed sprawled across the floor cluctching his back. Bungle began jumping up and down frantically and helped Bob back to his feet. Once Bob was standing on his own two feet, Bungle slipped his hand dow the back of Bob's trousers!

JT: Bob won't like that...

GP: Yeah, well, what's he gonna do about it?

JT: Are you saying that Bungle's antics are ok here in the IWO?

GP: I... uhhmm.... no comment.

JT: Bob is angry. I knew he was a homophobe, I knew it! He 's giving Bungle a evil facial expression. Bungle is backing into the corner. I never thought I'd see the day when Bob Job made someone back away from him.

GP: He swings a right hook at Bungle.

JT: He missed.

GP: He swings a left hook at Bungle.

JT: He missed again.

Bungle covers his face with one arm and holds out the other in a pathetic attempt of self-defense, but somehow it manages to slightly clip Bob in the face, who collapses to the canvas in agony.

Bungle: Oh my god, are you ok? I'm so sorry.

Bob clambers to his feet as Bungle grabs his ass once again.

Bob: AAAIIIYYEEEE!!

Bob jumps away from Bungle's grasp screaming at a very high pitch. Bungle leers towards him.

Bungle: Come here yung'un. Bungle won't harm you.

Bob starts running around the ring in a circle, as Bungle runs after him. They run round and round the ring in a circle like something from a cartoon. Eventually, Bungle, the more intelligent of the two, stops still as Bob continues to run straight into him, sending him flying six feet and into the turnbuckle.

GP: I think Bungle has alternative objectives than winning this match.

JT: Bungle walks over to a terrified Bob Job! But Bob crawls through Bungle legs, just as he was about choke him with his foot, or paw, or something.

GP: Bob crawls out from underneath Bungle legs, and pulls something out of his pocket.

JT: IT'S PEN! IT'S PEN!

GP: Calm down, JT. It's only a spatula.

JT: It's not just any spatula, it's Pen! INANIMATE BITCH SLAP TO BUNGLE! he falls to the floor and Bob locks on a chinese burn to Bungle's arm!

GP: An the ref was totally oblivious to the outside interference. *sigh*

JT: Bob has a chinese burn locked on. Bungle is yelling at the top of his voice....

Bungle: I quit, I quit!

Bungle starts to beat the mat with his fist as the bell rings for the end of the match.

Meygon: I don't believe this. Your winner.......BOOOBB JOOBBB!!!

We suddenly see a bright flash of light. The opening chords to "Cyclops Rock" by They Might be Giants hit and bubbles blast across the entrance ramp as three figures appear on the stage. As they approach the ring, the crowd pops huge for Jack Breaker, Aubrey Breaker, and Jake Walker, the Deadlier Sins. Jack has a microphone; Jake has a blueberry muffin. The Sins are both dressed in red/orange Hawaiian shirts and board shorts. Aubrey is wearing a skimpy black bikini. All three are barefoot. As they hit the ring, a giant seagull swoops down and pecks the muffin from Jake's hand. Jake chases the gull halfway into the stands, but eventually retreats empty-handed and pouty-faced. Meanwhile, Jack and Aubrey are posing on the turnbuckles. Jake grudgingly slides into the ring, and Jack starts his spiel on the mic.

Jack: Hey, crowd! What's up?

Cheap pop.

Jack: Now, I know how much you all wanted to see me with that belt around my waist tonight, but instead I've got to beat Psycho Jason to earn the title shot that I actually won last month and still haven't recieved. Is that screwy, or what? I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Syphon Fission is a triangle.

The crowd pops for continuity. Yay for continuity. Jack: And he's not even a right triangle! He's one of those damn isocelese triangles. Damn, I hate those isocelese triangles, what with their sides of varing length and all those damn angles. Who the hell do they think they are?

The crowd pops for right triangles. And who wouldn't?

JT: I wouldn't!

GP: Wouldn't what?

JT: Uhm... moo.

GP: I should've expected that.

JT: Yeah, well, you didn't.

Back in the ring..

Jack: And don't get me started with the quadrilaterals. I mean, trapezoids and rhombuses are one thing, but squares? Where do they get this crap? Do you have anything to add, Jake?

Jake: [Still pouting]..I want my muffin.

Jack: Well put. Anyway, the point I'm trying to make here is that i failed geometry, and so therefore I'm will have to beat Psycho Jason on account of he's not as good as I am and also I have a bowl of Cocoa Puffs waiting backstage and those things get you fuckin' PUMPED, maan!

GP: Allright, I lost Jack about an hour ago.

JT: How could you do that? He's only been talking for like four minutes.

GP: I know, I was exaggerating. You know, just to shake things up.

JT: What the hell is it with you and shaking things up?

GP: I honestly don't know. It was written on this index card, here.

JT grabs the card from Greg's hand.

JT: Well I'll be damned.

In the ring, Jack continues.

Jack: So, Boy Jason, the way I see it, you have two options. Either lose to me, or get crushed by a gigantic ice cream sandwich. Or, you know, you could win, but judging by the fact that I already called dibs on winning AND called no backsies, that's not very likely. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that it's REALLY not very likely.

The crowd pops once more, this time for Jack's wild overconfidence.

Jack: So, as it stands, the only thing between me and the world championship is a kid named Jason and a triangle with a shovel. And, hell, just give Syphon Fishin' a garbage bag or two and he can clean up the arena afterwards. Not that there's anything wrong with the maintenence crew around here. Shine on, you crazy diamonds.

The three janitors in the back pop. The crowd remains deathly silent.

Jack: Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some Cocoa Puffs calling my name.

"Cyclops Rock" hits once more as the Sins start back up the ramp. Suddenly, Jack rushes at the crowd barrier, and hops it. Jake and Aubrey follow suit. They push their way through the crowd and hit the beach. They run across the sand and reach the water. They dive in and swim away.

--- The Mega Job Invitational II


It was an annual event, and not exactly one of the more conventional ones, either. The match was a free-for-all, with only knockout and pinfall rules allowed. Whenever one is knocked out or pinned, they scored points. Submissions were too questionable and the match's stipulations forbid disqualifications, countouts, and ringouts. Like in Manhunt, the ways to be taken out scored varying points, with knockouts scoring two and pinfalls scoring one. For what reason, we did not care to find out.

The original was chaotic.

But this was a whole different playing field from the original.

"Goodbye Earl" by the Dixie Chicks blared out of the PA system, to the groans of the crowd.

And out came the foursome known as the Dark Order of Guys Named Earl: Poobah Earl, Earl Pearl, Earl Earl, and Earl of Windsor. The officals kept the other three men back from the ring since the rules stipulated that they were the only ones not invited to the Invitational, along with William Shatner, Vince Russo, and Nerva. And the rules stated that the first four men had to enter first.

Poobah Earl entered the Asylum cage and waited for his opponents, while the Dark Order were taken to the back.

"Let the dollies hit the floor, let the dollies hit the... FLOOR! ARMDRAAAAGGGGG"

I think that speaks for itself.

Beef the Slightly Annoyed came out to a loud ovation from the crowd, despite the rather odd butchering of "Bodies" being played. Beef pointed at Poobah Earl and said something to the effect of making Earl say his prayers, eat his vitamins, and worship Beefamania, but that was unconfirmed. Beef entered the cage.

If you thought Drowning Pool was bad, what was about to play was far, far, <b>far</b> worse than that.

"Upside, inside out! She's livin' la vida loca!"

Insert simultaneous groan from every human being in the world who dared to order this pay-per-view right about here, as Ricky Martin blasted out of the PA system, drawing El Janito out. Somehow, despite their <b>complete disgust</b> with the idea of Ricky Martin being played for an Asylum PPV, they cheered for Janito anyway.

Janito entered the Asylum as the referees kept him back from Poobah Earl, so as to not start the match prematurely.

"Don't give me that bullshit, you know who I am. I'm your nightmare, little man."

Perhaps not. But to the sounds of Ben Folds Five, out came Steve the Rambling Communist, armed with Oddjob, and looking extremely pissed off. Steve entered the cage through the door, and the undisputed master of stepladder combat was in the cage.

All four men stood in four corners of the cage, and looked toward each other. Janito looked at Beef, Beef looked at Earl, Earl looked at Janito, Steve looked at Earl.

It should be noted that Steve's facial expression changed from "pissed off midget" to "I WILL EAT YOUR STROMBOLI, MOTHERFUCKER~!".

The bell rang.

It was on.

Immediately, the three members of Mega Job went after the Invitational Champion, but Poobah Earl immediately bailed out of the Asylum cage as they approached. Putting a finger to his skull as if to tell the crowd that he was smart, Poobah Earl smiled for all of three seconds, before a song that Mega Job, himself, and a good 1/8ths of the crowd knew all too well.

"Why Do Birds Suddenly Appear?"

That eighth of the crowd erupted as, from the rafters of the building, the man in a head-to-toe birdsuit literally flew in and landed in the cage, right on his feet, with no ill effects whatsoever. His bird mask glistened in the spotlights, and it was amazingly obvious that he was one of wrestling's most disturbing and psychopathic individuals.

The Mysterious Birdman 0¿0.

"MUWAKEKEKEKEKE!!! LIKE THE PRODIGAL BIRD, I HAVE RETURNED TO RAPE YOUR WIVES AND EAT YOUR CHILDREN. SEE, ONE DAY, I WAS JUST MINDING MY BUSINESS, AND THIS FAMILY CAME ALONG AND THEY WERE THROWING WHAT APPEARED TO BE <b>SAND</b> AT MY BROTHER BIRDS. WELL, I WASN'T ESPECIALLY THRILLED WITH THAT, SO I PECKED AT THE GUY UNTIL I WAS TASTING HIS BRAINS, AND THEN I TOOK HIS EXTREMELY HOT WIFE AND PROBABLY MADE HER PREGNANT WITH A FREAKISH BIRD/HUMAN HYBRID. THEN I ATE THEIR SON. HE WENT DOWN REALLY WELL WITH A GLASS OF WINE, LET ME TELL YOU!"

All three Mega Job members turned to the Birdman, and predictably, they all had a look of "WTFMF?!" on their face.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Beef asked.

The Birdman scratched his feathery head. "I HAVE NO IDEA."

In all of this, Poobah Earl chose this moment to try to escape down the aisleway. He started to back away and leave, but his back bumped into a man that nobody in the Asylum really felt like seeing.

"hlelo, im ken war, & im hardkorr!!11"

The fans immediately groaned as the mere presence of Ken War was enough to lower the Asylum's standards by twenty points. Earl quickly turned around and reeled back in shock because Ken War's last death involved his face getting a close meeting with an electric fan. Poobah Earl backed up, right into the waiting arms of a seven foot psychopath in a bird suit, who lifted him straight up and tossed him back into the Asylum cage, whereupon all three members of Mega Job jumped and attacked him. The Birdman was about to climb back in, but Ken War stopped him.

"ey faut da mistervivus 1, da goiy u rep off!11" he said. The Birdman cocked his head to a side and then kawed at him.

"KAW!! I HAVE EATEN BIRD PELLETS AT AN ELDERLY MAN'S BENCH AT THE PARK!! THEN, I SET UP 5 OTHER ELDERLY BENCHES IN THE PARK, SET THEM ON FIRE AND JUMPED THROUGH THEM ALL FROM 500 FEET IN THE AIR, JUST TO PROVE TO THE ELDERLY HOW HARDCORE I WAS!!"

"...wat th fuk r u tlakin boot?!/11" Ken War asked.

THUNK.

That sound you just heard was the Mysterious Birdman rearing back and pecking Ken War upon the head with his beak, pretty much killing him once more. The referee nearby just simply shrugged quietly and counted to ten, awarding the rather dead Ken War a point. Satisfied with his damage, the Birdman fluttered into the cage and decided to help Mega Job beat the hell out of Poobah Earl.

Not that they needed any help or anything, since Poobah Earl has the trait of being even more horribly weak than Mega Job in of themselves. As Poobah Earl rose to his feet, he took a Pork Rind Infinity from Beef, and he fell to the canvas. Quickly did Beef grab Earl and roll him on top of him. The referee went down for a two count, but Janito pulled Earl off and small packaged him, but maneuvered the move so that Earl was pinning him.

This also got two, because the Birdman, who wasn't even aware of the rules of the match, rolled the small package into a pin on Earl.

This got three.

Janito popped up to his feet, and the former UK Champion looked way up at the Birdman. "Dude, you stupid bloody wanker, that was not bloody cool!"

And with that, Janito began punching away at the Birdman, his punches having no actual affect on the Birdman. The Birdman just sort of shoved Janito out of his way, and then he brought out the Hardcore Bird Tools of Warfare from his giant bird suit.

A birdhouse, a bird feeder, what looks like a barbed-wire nest, and some Chicken McNuggets, which the Birdman looked at with a hint of sadness in his big bird eyes. "MUWAKEKE, MY LITTLE BIRD FRIENDS... IT'S SO TRAGIC THAT YOU'RE TRAPPED IN THIS EVIL DEVICE OF THE DEVIL, BUT DON'T WORRY, MY PRETTIES, YOU'RE NOW FREE!!!"

He then proceeded to try and work on opening the box of Chicken McNuggets.

"KAWDAMMIT, STUPID CHILD-PROOF MCDONALDS BOXES. THEY ARE TRULY THE WORK OF THE DEVIL!"

It was around this time that Steve the Rambling Communist took matters into his own hands and connected with the Clothesline From Shanghai to Poobah Earl's nutsack. Earl predictably clutched his nuts, wandered a bit, and then collapsed, right on the still-down El Janito. Earl had passed out for a second, and the referee made another three count, giving Janito a point.

And it was around this time that something astonishing happened.

"Pretty Fly (For A White Guy)" by the Offspring hit. The fans were confused, but then they reacted positively as two men, armed with bongs and Hawaiian shirts, hit the Asylum cage from the crowd.

Pretty Fly.

The 21W World Tag Team Champions.

They immediately started a fight with Beef and El Janito, as all four me- er, no idiots began to girly-fight in the middle of the ring. Janito kicked Nate in the shin. Steve-O slapped Beef in the face. Nate and Janito began to pull at each other's hair. Beef and Steve-O began to girly-push each other. It was rather embarassing to watch, and thank God that "Cold Beverages" by G Love and Special Sauce began to play, because that enabled everyone to let go of each other and look toward Poser as he raced down the ramp and toward the cage.

He tripped over Ken War and knocked himself out.

Mega Job and Pretty Fly stopped their girly-fight and looked at Poser, who was taking his knockout ten count right now, and would take a point just for tripping over Ken War's remains. All four of them resumed their girly fight, but while they did so, Poobah Earl got right back to his feet and decided to high-tail it out of the arena.

He ran right into Ken War. Again.

"were do u thnik ur gong, infdel!11"

Bam. Right hand by Ken War. Down went Earl, as a shocking amount of offense came from the presence of the "War Machine". It didn't precisely last long, as another song played that signalled the arrival of one of wrestling's biggest retards.

"I Am Your Boogieman". White Zombie. Evan Levine.

Evan stumbled out of the curtain, raising his arms and giving the crowd a retarded look. He then screamed "IM the GAYME~!" and ran to the ring. He was stopped by Ken War, as we were greeted to what could only be described as a "meeting of the minds".

"hihihihihi!!11" Ken War said.

"ITS GAYME TIME!!!11" Evan replied. This probably would have continued if it hadn't been for a song that made the fans erupt positively, which was "Legend of Zelda" by System of a Down.

The Mutha Fuckin' Abusah of Yo Momma.

He marched to War and Levine with a table at hand, with what could only be described as angry intentions on his mind. War and Levine continued their bickering between one another in the meantime, allowing the cameras to return to the Pretty Fly-Mega Job girly fight. At this point, the Mysterious Birdman and Steve the Rambling Communist had attacked a popcorn vender and were now just sitting together and watching the girly-fight while eating the popcorn.

"PATHETIC." Steve said. The Birdman nodded sagely and answered.

"MUWAKEKEKE, YES, YES, THESE FOUR FIGHT ABOUT AS WELL AS A CRIPPLED STEVE URKEL IN A BIRDHOUSE. YOU KNOW, URKEL IS NO MATCH FOR THE EVIL BIRD ARMY OF GREENLAND. WE'RE ALL LIKE "KAW" AND URKEL IS ALL LIKE "HEHEHEHEHE *SNORT*" AND WE'RE ALL LIKE "KAW" AND HE'S ALL LIKE "AIIIE" AND THEN HE DIES AND WE DANCE ON HIS CORPSE."

Steve thought about this for a second.

"CHEESE?" he asked.

"THE CHEESE IS NOT OUR FRIEND." the Birdman said.

The Birdman stood up. He wandered over to Poobah Earl and tossed him back into the Asylum cage, before giving him the infamous and dreaded Mystery Bird Driver, the most hardcore and birdilicious double underhook piledriver in wrestling(or in our case, fighting) history.

"SEE? THE CHEESE IS MOST CERTAINLY NOT OUR FRIEND." the Birdman commented as he returned to his seat next to Steve.

Steve wasn't sure what dumping Earl on his skull and cheese had in common, except for another ten count for Earl and another point for Earl.

In fifteen minutes, Earl led with three; Beef and Janito were having a continious girly fight with Pretty Fly; the group of Abusah, Ken War, and Evan Levine were doing... something, Eddie Scott Poser was trying to sell peanuts and Poser King crowns, Poobah Earl was still unconscious, and the Birdman and Steve were watching the chaos.

So, what can make this any better?

"Date Rape" by Sublime hit.

Some fans erupted, knowing that this was the music of a former IWO World Heavyweight champion in his own right.

Schitzo Tod.

Wearing a cape, a pair of underwear, and NOTHING ELSE.

"I AM THE GREAT WHITE HOPE! FEEL THE POWER AS I FIGHT CRIME WITH MY GREAT WHITE POWERS! AYAIYAIYIAYIAYIAYIAYIAYAYAYY!!!!"

And with that cry of... whatever, Tod ran straight for the Asylum cage, passing by Abusah, Ken War, and Evan Levine who were now seated around the table that Abusah had brought and sipping on some tea.

"WEL, EY WUZ DINKING OV PUTING MI STOK IYN MYCREWSUFT." Abusah said, sipping on his tea, taking extra care to keep his pinkie from assisting in the holding of the glass. Ken War nodded and thought about his own feature.

"im ptuting mi stcok en ayeohel tmie wraner & ill b sooooo rich!!111" Ken War commented. Why anyone would want to be Rich is another story altogether. Ken War took a sip of his tea, and some of its contents ended up pouring out of a gaping wound in his neck. Abusah and War turned and looked at Evan for his own input in the subject.

"EYE, AS DA GAYME, CHOSE FEDFEX AS EM STCOK~!" he yelled. Abusah and War both nodded at Levine for his own choice in stock.

Let's just... go away from this disturbing scene, now, as Woody Allen began punching away at Christopher Walken in the center of the ca- oh, wait, no. That's Schitzo Tod, and he's beating up on Poobah Earl. My bad.

Beef turned and saw that Tod was beating up on Earl, and decided to interject himself.

"Um, dude, I think Janito and I could rough him up a bit if we weren't busy trying to finish our contest with these two on who is the more pathetic tag te-"

Beef never got the chance, because Tod screamed something about "releasing the Great White Power" and proceeded to kick Beef in the shin, in a move called the TAM, the Tod Annihilation Maneuver. This caused Beef to fall over. Meanwhile, Steve-O was wandering back to Beef to try and pull at his hair, but Tod TAMed him, as well, and Steve-O fell over.

This probably would have continued, but an odd and extremely loud opera-like chorus began in the attendance. From the entryway, the Jules Asner Junior High School Marching Band gathered around the entryway, all while playing what was apparently "Duel of the Fates". As it played, an unusual man was being brought to the ring on a platform made apparently out of wookie hair, by a group of Jar Jar Binks midgets. He wore a homemade Jedi costume and carried what could only be described as a lightsaber in his right hand. As the choir began again, the man jumped into the ring and removed the hood of his robe, and he was instantly recognizable to those familiar with the IWO. Or those with feathers.

"DUDE, HOMIE, KAW-LIKE AND STUFF, IT'S PORN JULIUS!" the Birdman yelled from his seat next to Steve the Rambling Communist.

"No, I am..." Julius said, pausing dramatically, as if time had stopped in the Asylum cage. "Pornwan Julobi!"

The groans could be heard throughout the crowd, but the one person that wasn't groaning was busy putting on a cardboard Darth Vader helmet and pulling his own lightsaber out of his underwear.

No, not THAT lightsaber. Sick fucks.

Tod extended his lightsaber, and it's revealed to be a plastic one.

And no, it's STILL NOT what you think. SHUT UP.

"I've been waiting for you, Pornwan. We meet again, at last. My powers are complete. When I left you, I was but the learner, now I am the master." Tod said, whirling his plastic lightsaber around.

"Only a master of evil, Darth Tod!" Pornwan said, as he extended his lightsaber. Thus, a fierce plastic lightsaber battle began.

Pornwan began to do all sorts of crazy flips and flying around, blocking Darth Tod's advances with his lightsaber. The fans were having difficulty watching the action, until Pornwan stopped and Tod used the "Force" to move a pencil in his direction. However, Pornwan caught the pencil and blocked the next advance.

"Hey, watch it with the pencil. You could poke someone's eye out!"

Darth Tod shrugged and the battle continued.

In perhaps the stupidest thing ever seen in Asylum history(you know, since the last stupid thing in Asylum history, which was like ten minutes ago), a man came from the curtain, riding a small baby elephant that was, in fact, Lord Ganesha, the Hindu elephant God. He wandered on top of his elephant to the lightsaber duel, then leapt off.

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm Ghandi Tod, Schitzo Tod's peaceful younger brother! Stop this nonsense! Violence is not the answer, the answer is pretty little pink flowers out in a meddow and whatnot."

Pornwan Julobi and Darth Tod stopped their duel, looked at Ghandi Tod, and then used the Force to shove him back and off his feet.

Ghandi Tod got back up.

"Hmm. I see your point. Okay, I love you, byebye!"

Ghandi Tod leapt back up onto Lord Ganesha and fled, trampling over some unfortunate fans along the way.

The battle raged on for another thirty seconds before the Birdman stood up and flew over to them. Darth Tod suddenly withdrew his saber and backed away, and the Birdman stood there in his seven foot majesty. He then put on a big black robe that covered most of his face, save for his beak.

"Darth Kawmother! I should have guessed!"

"FOOLISH JULOBI, YOU DO NOT KNOW OF THE DARK SIDE OF THE FURFIGHILHEIMER." Darth Kawmother / The Mysterious Birdman 0¿0 said.

"PORNWAN, THERE IS SOMETHING YOU MUST KAWING KNOW." Kawmother said. "PORNWAN... I... AM YOUR FATHER."

Porwan Julobi blinked, then he damn near had a nervous breakdown.

"No... Nooooo!!!! THAT'S NOT TRUE! THAT'S <b>IMPOSSIBLE</b>!"

"IT IS YOUR MOTHERCLUCKING DESTINY."

With that, Darth Kawmother flew away to a guy from Radio Shack, and the lightsaber duel between Pornwan and Darth Tod continued as if nothing had happened.

The Birdman sat down next to the Radio Shack guy and turned to him.

"HEY, RADIO SHACK GUY. HOW ABOUT YOU INVADE THE ARENA WITH YOUR EVIL TOASTER OVEN ARMY FROM THE KITCHEN?" Darth Kawmother suggested. The Radio Shack guy looked at him with wide eyes.

"We can't do that, my lord! It wouldn't be legal! The imperial senate would shove a blaster up my ass! That wouldn't be fun!"

"I WILL MAKE IT MOTHERCLUCKING LEGAL, LIMP PENIS."

While the Radio Shack guy considered it, the duel continued, as well as the girly fight that resumed as Beef and Steve-O recovered from their TAMs.

And then, chaos ensued.

"Revolution/Revolución" by Ill Niño, though it was barely heard over "Duel of the Fates", which was still playing.

Those.

Damned.

Mexicans.

Yet another pair of familiar faces from the IWO raced down to the ring, as the former IWO World Tag Team Champions came down to the cage, along with their flunkie, the Gap Worker. Pretty Fly and Mega Job let go of each other, then Pretty Fly actually backs off a bit, while Mega Job very nearly pissed their pants as they recognized the pair of pissed off Mexicans.

"BLOODY HELL!" Janito screamed, before Diablo tackled him to the canvas, while Edguardo tackled Beef right into the cage.

Meanwhile, the Gap Worker suddenly realizes that the man he's going after, Steve the Rambling Communist, happened to be seated with a seven foot tall psychopathic nut in a bird suit.

He pisses his pants as the Birdman stood back up from his chair, only moments ago, he had been tempted by the Dark Side of the Furfighilheimer. Steve stood up as well, but he looked far less intimidating than the Birdman did.

"Um, uh oh?"

He turned to run away, but Steve quickly ran in front of him and BAM~!, nails him with the Clothesline From Shanghai. The Gap Worker held his nutsack as he spun around to try and shake off the feeling, turning right back into the Birdman's direction.

Kick in the gut.

Mystery. Bird. Driver.

A ten count later, the Gap Worker had scored a point. Unfortunately for him, he had to actually stand up to be counted back down again, therefore, he couldn't just stay unconscious and keep racking up a score.

Hey, we have principles around here, damn you.

Meanwhile, "Duel of the Fates" was reaching its climax, as Darth Tod and Pornwan Julobi were still fighting. They were nearing the stock market "discussion" between Ken War, Abusah, and Evan Levine. Darth Tod went for a wide, horizontal slash. Pornwan ducked it.

Ken War did not, his head was chopped off. How this could happen when Pornwan and Darth were fighting with PLASTIC lightsabers was another matter. All Ken War could do was look at the ground, as his head landed face-first, and comment on his situation.

"o kno, not agian!!11"

His body slumped off of the chair it was sitting on, and the referee counted him down. As he was counted, Abusah stood up, his nostrils snarling. He was not very happy.

"ABOOOOZZZAAAHHHH SPEEEEEERRRRRR~!!!!"

Boom. Darth Tod's helmet and lightsaber were not-so-surgically removed from his body from the impact of a huge black man spearing him to the ground. Pornwan started hitting Abusah in the back with his plastic lightsaber, but that didn't have as much affect on Abusah as it did on Ken War, and Abusah just stared at him before he screamed "ABOOZAH SPEER~!" again and took down Pornwan.

Score two for Ken War. Two for Darth Tod. Then two for Pornwan Julobi.

"Duel of the Fates" ended and the Jules Asner Junior High School Marching Band began to file out of the arena. Satisfied at the damage done, Abusah turned around and began to leave

Shockingly enough, Eddie Scott Poser was back up after tripping over Ken War's corpse literally fifteen minutes ago. He looked down at Ken War's body.

"Poland dislikes the act of resurrection, and we were forcefully against Buffy returning from the grave! KEN WAR SHOULD JUST STAY DEAD!"

Ken War somehow managed to roll his head toward Poser using his facial muscles. "wat r u tlakin abot??//"

Poser blinked.

"Now I know why Cameraman Mark has a reseeding hair line."

Almost not shockingly, Abusah happened to have bumped into Poser as he was walking to the back, and Poser was back down again. Another ten count, and another ten minutes of unconsciousness for Poser.

With only ten minutes remaining in the Invitational, Ken War was in the lead with four. Pretty Fly were now sitting with Steve and Birdman and smoking some weed. Those Damned Mexicans were doing all sorts of mean and nasty things to El Janito and Beef. Darth Tod, Pornwan Julobi, Poobah Earl, the Gap Worker, and Eddie Scott Poser were all unconscious. Ken War's body was trying to pick up his head. And Abusah had left.

I suppose you're sitting on the <b>VERY EDGE OF YOUR SEAT</b>, wondering what exciting thing is going to happen now. Then again, I'm pretty sure that you've skipped past this match by now and went to read the Asylum title match, but, uh... SHUT UP.

Well, I've only got one word for you to describe the person that was now making his way down to the ring.

<a href="http://nutty.chris.com/nutty/video/hyakugojyuuichi.html">HYAKUGOJYUUICHI~!</a>

It was Bob Job, who raced down to the ring, slipped on a banana peel, and fell over. For some reason, this now counted as a fall, as Bob Job was quickly counted down and out.

Now, it stood to reason that there were now seventeen participants and it was a chaotic scene. So, let's make it more complicated! How? <b>LIKE THIS</b>!

Personify: Nate
Whoa, dude. The colors are creepin' me out, man.

Personify: Ken War
u no, im nto spceialy hapy dat mi had wuz spereatd fro mi bdoy!!11 i men, it wuz bda enugh win dat berd thng stabed mi en da skul, btu dis iz stuipdr!!111

Personify: The Mysterious Birdman 0¿0
MUWAKEKEKE, YOU KNOW, THIS IS MOTHERCLUCKING NEAT. I GET TO SIT AROUND AND DO NOTHING WHILE THESE PEONS ARE BEATING EACH OTHER UP FOR SOME PIECE OF CARDBOARD. THAT'S CLUCKING RICH! I MEAN, IT'S AS FUN AS THE DAY I WENT OUT ON A MOTHERCLUCKING DRIVE WITH MY HUGE LAWNMOWER THAT HAD THE BLADES UP AT NECK LEVEL, AND I DROVE AROUND IN THE HUMAN VILLAGE OF SLAVES JUST OUTSIDE OF MY LUXUROUS BIRDHOUSE CASTLE. MAN, IT WAS *ESPECIALLY* GREAT WHEN I DROVE INTO THAT OLD FOLKS HOME. I NEVER HEARD SUCH SCREAMING SINCE THE <b>LAST</b> TIME I DROVE INTO THE OLD FOLKS HOME AND TOOK SOME HEADS OFF. WHICH WAS ROUGHLY LAST MONTH. DAMN, I NEED TO DO THAT AGAIN, THE ELDERLY NEED TO BE PICKED OFF SO THAT ONLY THE YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL CHICKS IN THE SLAVE CITY CAN COME AND GIVE ME HEAD LIKE THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO. YEAH.

Personify: Steve the Rambling Communist
FERRETS.

Personify: El Janito: The Mexican Stereotype
Man, I'm not sure how I ended up out here... conveniently leaning against the guardrail in front of Birdie, Steve, and those two stoners we were girly-fighting with earlier, but I think I can make out some blur thing. Hmm. It doesn't seem especially shiny, and I think it's heading for me. Um. I think I'd better duck.

Personify: Steve-O
Um, why is there a Mexican in my lap?

Personify: Diablo
Um, why am I in a stoner's lap?

Okay, see how confusing that can get? I thought so. The entire front row of Pretty Fly, the Birdman, Steve the Rambling Communist, and a few lucky fans were all knocked down by Diablo as he was backdropped over the guardrail by El Janito.

All of the men got up, and while they couldn't take a knockout or a pin, they could all take out aggression on El Janito.

Well, except Steve.

"COME THE CLUCK HERE~!" Birdman yelled, as he, Nate, Steve-O, and Diablo began to chase Janito around the cage. Meanwhile, Beef had managed to shove Edguardo off of him and stun him with the Pork Rind Infinity. He saw that Edguardo was getting up, and therefore, he made a primal scream and got ready to unleash the horror, the fury, the dreaded...

"ARRRRRRMMMMDRAAAAAGGGGGGGG~!!!!"

Edguardo charges.

Right into the dreaded Armdrag of Utter, Festering Death.

Edguardo popped back to his feet before Beef could full recover from executing it. Beef turned around, but it was far too late to block the Spick Kick, a bicycle enzugiri, to the skull. Beef fell over, and Edguardo pinned him.

One. Two. Three.

Beef had scored.

Just not in the way that he really wanted to. Edguardo jumped up and down, but then he realized that being pinned was the way to score points in this match, not getting the pin. When he realized that, he realized that the entire match was completely and utterly stupid.

"Hey, this entire match is completely and utterly stupid." Edguardo said to nobody in particular.

And with that, Edguardo left the cage. He was about to leave the match, but then, he bumped into Ken War, who had just now fastened his head back to his body.

"u cnetscape!11"

"Shut the fuck up." Edguardo said, before lifting Ken War up and dropping him with the Mexibuster, an Unholy Driver/fireman's carry face first powerbomb, onto a table. This had the unfortunate effect(if you're Ken War) of once again removing his head from his body.

"...tis is nto mi dey"

A ten count was made, and to the shock of no one, the man that was leading the pack in the Mega Job Invitational was the War Machine, himself. Ken War's body slumped to the floor and looked for his head again, while Edguardo went looking for his brother, Diablo.

I think it was about this time that Beef got back up and pulled the <b>still</b>-unconscious Poobah Earl to the center of the cage. He kicked up his arm, and the fans immediately knew what they were about to see.

Beef ran to the cage wall. He hopped four times. He did the Macarena. He did the Moonwalk.

He dropped the leg.

The Epic Beef Drop.

This seemed to have actually WOKEN UP Poobah Earl, but once he made it back to his feet, he fell back over. Yet another ten count was made, and once again, Poobah Earl had moved himself back into first place, though just one point shy of the Walking Corpse, himself.

Bob Job entered the ring, having recovered from his slip and fall, and he literally walked right into the infamous and dreaded <b>SMALL PACKAGE</b> by Beef, who had completely forgotten the rules of his own match.

Three count.

Bob Job had three.

Poobah Earl had somehow gotten back to his feet. And he took a step forward, right into the huge chest of his old friend, the Mysterious Birdman 0¿0.

"MUWAKEKEKEKE, STILL HAVEN'T LEARNED YOUR LESSON, HAVE YOU, CHUCKLES?"

Poobah Earl gulped.

KICK WHAM MYSTERY BIRD DRIVER.

You might as well sign Earl's death ticket, as the obvious ten count is registered, and Poobah Earl was suddenly back in the lead of the Mega Job Invitational.

And with three minutes left to go, it didn't seem that anyone, aside from those who have died three times in this match thus far, could possibly reach the seven points that last year's champion had amassed.

But lo and behold, odd things do happen.

Bob Job got up, and as if it was mandated by law, Bob Job ate some KICK with extra WHAM and a side of MYSTERY BIRD DRIVER~! Say, when did this suddenly become the KFC Invitational instead of the Mega Job Invitational, anyway? Anyway, onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten, Bob Job is out, and he gains two more points, that quickly.

After all, he's the Extreme Jobbing Sensation.

Ken War found his head. There were just two minutes left as he entered the Asylum cage for what was actually the first time since the match started.

"Fresh and Clean" by Outkast hit.

Out came the Elite Janitor Squad of Destruction and Cleanliness.

All three members of it, Janitors Seven, Nine, and Eleven.

Don't even ask.

"Hey, you can't have a meanieheaded conglomeration of jobbers and idiots without the meanieheaded Janitor Squad~!" Eleven said. "After all, we're the meanieheaded originators of the meanieheaded belt that's on the line in this meanieheaded match!"

"Yes! :^D" Nine added. Smiley included.

Tap tap. Look behind you. The three janitors turned around and came face to face with Evan Levine. He bellows his stupid "Have a ncie day, i know ur pac champ wil 2!!!111" catchphrase, even though he isn't "pac champ" at the moment.

His very breath causes all three members of the Janitor Squad to pass out. Nine lands on top of Eleven. Seven is on top of Nine. After both a pair of pins and a knockout count, the Janitors had scored. Meanwhile, Evan decided to go into the back and brush his teeth, for once.

Outside the cage, Those Damned Mexicans, Beef the Slightly Annoyed, and Pretty Fly were all involved in a brawl, nobody really gaining supremecy over the other.

In the cage, Ken War was "brawling" with the Birdman. Actually, "brawling" is a bad word to describe the stupidity occuring in the cage, as War was just punching Birdman in the stomach repeatedly, while the punches had no real effect on the Birdman whatsoever. Finally, the Birdman just gets fed up with it.

"DUDE, YOU MOTHERCLUCKING IDIOT, YOU CALL <b>THAT</b> "HARDKORR"?! WELL, BUCKLE YOUR SAFETYBELTS, GRANDMA EDNA, BECAUSE THE MYSTERIOUS BIRDMAN 0¿0 IS ABOUT TO TAKE THIS MOTHERCLUCKER SCREECHING INTO A FLIGHT OF BIRDS." the Birdman stated, before kicking War in the gut. Janito and the Gap Worker both tried to stop him, but they both get taken out by right hands that enabled them to get token knockout points. After that, the Birdman picked up the birdhouse from before and placed it in the center of the cage. He then picked up the bird feeder and hit a recovering Eddie Scott Poser in the head with it, knocking him back out.

But there was one person in the ring that wanted to take out War for good.

Steve the Rambling Communist.

"PERMISSION." he ordered.

"OH, MOTHERCLUCKING FINE, YOU HAVEN'T DONE MUCH ANYWAY." Birdman said, releasing War from the dreaded clutches of what was about to be the fifth Mystery Bird Driver in the match.

Steve measured War.

THWAAACCKKK~!

Clothesline From Shanghai. War didn't move, but his nuts fell off.

"o fux!!11 nwo eye fel liek tat vilam gyu!111"

War bent over to pick up his nuts, allowing Steve to pick up the birdhouse. Meanwhile, Janito picked up the bird feeder, and aimed for the same target that Steve did. Poobah Earl saw this, and screamed out, knowing full well what would happen if these two forces connected to Ken War's head.

"NOOOOOO-GRAGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!" he screamed, just before Diablo dropped an elbow on his face.

THWAAACCCKKK~!

Jobber. Owl. Buster.

War collapsed on to the mat, his head successfully removed from his body for the third straight time.

"fux!11 wat is tis, pik on ken dya?//" he said as his head rolled until it reached the cage wall.

There were thirteen seconds left.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

Two points for War.

Three.

Two.

One.

Game over.

As War's body searched for its head for the third time in the bout, the referees confered with the ring announcer, while the fans knew, without a shadow of a doubt.

"Ladies and gentlemen, here is your WIN- er, SOMETHING... with EIGHT POINTS... he is your NEW NORTH DAKOTAN JANITORWEIGHT CHAMPIONS.... KEEEEEENNNNNNN WAAAARRRRRR!!!!'

As War twists his head on, the fighting throughout the arena stops as he's handed the cardboard championship.

"Um, oh yeah, and the person who knocked the most people out automatically loses a point, so, um, the Mysterious Birdman finishes with negative one."

"WHAT THE CLUCK?! THAT'S IT, I'M CLUCKING OUT OF HERE."

With that, the Birdman flew away.

The aftermath of the match was apparant. Janito, Beef, and Steve all sighed in disappointment, as they had once again lost their own match for the second year in a row. Pretty Fly and Those Damned Mexicans stopped fighting and mutually decided to get back together to possibly smoke weed at some point. Darth Tod and Pornwan Julobi both got up and continued their lightsaber duel. Eddie Scott Poser ordered Cameraman Mark to carry him to the back, and he wouldn't do it. The Gap Worker was still unconscious. Poobah Earl was left a quivering, disappointed mass that he couldn't do it twice in a row. The Janitors disappeared from wherever they came from.

And Bob Job?

Bob Job had fallen asleep. He was dreadfully tired.

Ken War stood in the aisleway, and raised his newly won title belt into the air, triumphantly. He vowed to himself that he would be the "graetst & must hardkorr jaint0rwait chumpyun evr".

In a freak accident, a sandbag fell on Ken War and he died again.

In an interview later, it was stated that it had, indeed, "lfet a mrak".

Winner: Ken War via Point Total

The scene switches to the prestigious office of AWS Commish (also known as Dictator), which as you all should know by now is just a desk in a public bathroom in the arena. The commissioner glances at the camera, clears his throat, and straightens his tie, which accidentally yanks the clip-on off. However, the commissioner has another tie on under that one, and possibly more below THAT one. Tossing the yanked-off tie again, he again clears his throat and faces the camera.

AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) : Greetings, freakin' IWO. This is your esteemed commision- ... um ... line?

Pen : (Who also has a tie on) ...

AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) : Oh, right : -er. I know I have a bit of a reputation as a freakin' "Non-serious Norman" who only wants to watch porn and hang out with his freakin' friends, a spatula and a naked man, all day long. But I'll have you freakin' know that as the commissioner, I have a lot of freakin' responsibilities. For example, you know those little holes that the tops of the announce tables have in them that you put freakin' monitors in? You know who makes those? Well, not freakin' me, but the workers who make the table tops. But do you know who freakin' makes sure that the workers make those holes? I'd guess the workers' supervisors. But do you know who tells those supervisors that those holes need to be freakin' there? I dunno, who do I look like, God? What's with the freakin' twenty questions?! I don't need to explain myself to the likes of you! I'm very freakin' important! I hold the IWO together with glue and duct tape! One time the IWO was leaking all over the place, and Tom Ford was all, "Oh no, it's getting jobbers all over my brand new Keds!" and I was like, "I'll freakin' save it!" and so I started a rock band. So see, I'm much freakin' cooler than you, you non-rock band founders. Get out of my office!

Man Using a Urinal : But I haven't gone to the bathroom in five months!

AWS Commish (also known as Dictator) : I said freakin' out!

The camera cuts back to the announcers as the commissioner chases the man out of the bathroom with Pen.

GP: ...That was incredibly pointless.

JT: And how!

North American Title Match
Erik Blake vs. Ash Robinson -c-
vs.

GP: Our next match-up should be a doozy.

JT: A..."doozy"?

GP: Yes, a doozy. "ShowTime" Erik Blake vs. Ash "Shadow" Robinson.

JT: What the hell? "ShowTime"? When the hell did Blake get that nickname?

GP: He made it up himself...

JT: Why?

GP: That's like asking why is the sky blue? Or why is the ground there? or...

JT: Why is Erik Blake such a jobber?

GP: Exactly...NO WAIT!

JT: Ha...ass.

Meygon- The next match-up is for the IWO North American Championship! Introducing first from the mean streats of Chicago, Illinois...weighing in at 245 lbs......"SHOOOWTIIIIIMMMMEE" ERIIIIIIIIIKKKK BLAAAAAAAKKKKEEEEE!

"Say Goodbye to Hollywood" by Eminem plays on the PA and outcomes Erik Blake looking very determined.

JT: Dammit...he did it again.

GP: What?

JT: He changed his damn entrance music. This guy should just stick with one and be happy!

GP: Meh...

Meygon- Introducing the champion...from the meaner streets of L.A. California...weighing in at 265 lbs....he is...the current IWO North American
Champion...He is.....AAAASSSSSSHHHHHHH "SHAAAAADOOOOOWWWW" ROOOOOBINSSOOOOONNNN!!!!

"In A Godda Da Vidda" by Iron Butterfly plays on the PA and outcomes Ash Robinson with his coveted North American strap on his shoulder. He flashes it to Blake a couple of times and starts walking down to the ring.

*DING DING DING*

GP: And we are off for this North American Title match-up between "ShowTime" Erik Blake and Ash "Shadow" Robinson.

JT: Heh...ShowTime vs. Shadow...

GP: JT are you high?

JT: I think it is pretty obvious that I am...oh look...orange spider otters...

Blake and Robinson lock up...Robinson starts to get the upper hand and backs Blake into the corner. Robinson and Blake release each other and circle around the ring...They lock up again Robinson still getting the advantage but then Blake delievers a quick knee to the gut of Ash Robinson.

GP: What a cheap shot by Blake.

JT: When is Simon Seaman coming out?

GP: Why JT? Want to relieve your sexual tension?

JT: No...I have a girlfriend now. :-)

GP: Is she plastic?

JT:*nervously* Uh...erm...no. What gave you that idea.

Blake starts to chop Robinson into the corner...then Blake raises his hands to the crowd and they boo him so loud it would make Michael Jackson cry.

JT: HA! YOU JOBBER!

GP: I really don't think Erik Blake is a jobber anymore...

JT: Hmmm, then I should shoot him with my Jobber ray!

GP: ... You're just insane.

Blake starts to give Robinson boxer punches to the gut and one massive shot to the jaw of Ash Robinson. Blake whips Robinson into the next corner and follows up with a dropkick sending Robinson out of the ring onto the floor.

GP: Wow, Blake is really showing his good moves here.

JT: ROBINSON! GET YOUR ASS UP! IF YOU LET BLAKE WIN YOUR NOTHING BUT AN IRISH PUSS!

GP: JT! Enough with the racial slurs...sheesh. Are you trying to get us put off the air?

JT: Well, yea duh. I'm trying to get out on my contract.

Robinson gets up and recollects his thoughts and rolls back into the ring. Blake charges for a punch but misses and goes flying into the corner. Robinson kicks Blake in the stomach and executes a spinning jump kick to Blake's forehead sending him down to the mat.

GP: Whoa! What a massive move by Ash Robinson. Blake looks Dazed...

JT: And confused! Get it? "Dazed and Confused"? Donnie Daze's finisher?

GP:....

JT: Awww what do you know? You still get off on Cartoon porn.

GP: AND PROUD OF IT!

Ash tries to hook Blake into a figure four but Blake realizes this and kicks Ash in the teeth once....twice...three times and that sends Ash flying backwards. Blake kick flips up as Ash charges at him with a spear...Blake takes it head on but reverses it into a tornado DDT.

GP: WHOA! WHAT AN OUTSTANDING MOVE BY BLAKE!

JT: Relax..he will lose...don't worry.

Blake goes for the cover...

1...

2...

Blake picks Ash up and lifts him up into a suplex position...he keeps him up there...still....still....still

GP: MY GOD! ALL THAT BLOOD RUSHING TO THE BRAIN!

JT: MY GOD!

GP: WHAT IS IT JT? THE EXCITEMENT OF THIS MATCH IS GETTING TO YOU?

JT: NO...I DROPPED MY FRENCH FRY.

Then Blake executes a massive powerslam to the mat and goes directly in for the cover...

1...

2...

GP: Ash barely kicked out that time.

JT: Yea, I can't even lie...for a second there I didn't think he was gonna kick out. Hey, where the hell is my french fry?

GP picks up a french fry from the ground and slaps JT with it.

JT: THERE IT IS! THANKS GP!

Blake pounds the mat in frustration and picks Ash up...he goes for his patent finisher the highlighter but Ash blocks it and sends him into the ropes...Ash goes for his Shadow Kick but Blake ducks under and goes into the ropes. Blake bounces back off the ropes and is grabed by Ash as he tries to send Blake to the outside...but Blake reverses and sends Ash into the ropes. Ash bounces off the ropes and Blake back-body drops Ash into the air and as he comes down to the ground he hits his finisher the Highlighter.

GP: GOOD GOD! ASH IS DOWN! HIGHLIGHTER! HIGHLIGHTER!

JT: WHAAAAAAAT?!? IT CAN'T BE!

1...

2...

3!

*DING DING DING*

Meygon- The winner of this match and NEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW IWO NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION...."SHOWTIME" ERIK BLAKE!

GP: BLAKE HAS DONE IT! I DON'T BELIEVE IT!

JT: HE CHEATED! THAT FUCKING JAGOFF CHEATED!

Backstage, we see a close-up of a "Caution: Wet Floor" sign being placed near the entrance. As the camera pans up, a janitor is busily tidying up the back humming a song under his breath. With the shot focused on him, it quickly pans to the left as Simon Seaman is revealed, decked out in a fuschia designer suit with the sleeves missing and the pants cut off to the knee, going along with the beach theme for the night. Shaking his head in disapproval of the current goings on, he speaks up to voice his concern.

Simon: You know something? I'm hip, I'm cool, I'm with it, I have the endless supply of jiggy in my refrigerator, but guess what? Apparently some people don't appreciate what Simon Seaman is capable of bringing to the table. Supposedly, said table doesn't have enough room for one of the greatest world champions in the history of the universe. Now I'm not laying the blame on anyone in particular, but you know what IWO President Thomas Ford has done? He has turned the Internet Wrestling Organization upside down and inside out.

As the janitor continued his business, so did Simon as he proceeded.

Simon: He doesn't know this for a fact, but I have practically layed the foundation for the product you see today. He might not be aware of it, but I even created the table that things are now brought onto and now I'm welcome? I get no respect around here, no respect at all. I'm like that
guy who has been around forever and never gets a break. What's his name? What's his name again?

Staring up at nothing, Simon ponders for a minute and is interrupted by the janitor.

Janitor: Are you talking about Rodney Dangerfield?

Reluctantly agreeing with his answer, Simon nonchalantly reacts.

Simon: Yeah, yeah...that's it. That's the person I was talking about.

Without warning, he takes a nearby newspaper and strikes the janitor with it. Showing his distaste, Simon raises his tone of voice.

Simon: Except for the fact that it isn't! For goodness sake, could you be any more wrong? You are so far from the truth. If the truth was North
Korea, your idiotic, uninspired, spur of the moment response would be like...like...South Korea. Get with the program, Gilligan. Just so you
know, we're not on "stupid answer" island here. Come in with an insightful reply any time.

Favouring his head, the janitor takes the newspaper away and sets it aside.

Janitor: My apologies, sir.

Glaring at the individual in front of him in disbelief, the former world champion reacted with another verbal outburst.

Simon: Oh, so now they're YOUR apologies?! Why do I even bother with you? Seriously, why? You have nothing significant or important to say plus you don't even know how to dress properly. Brown accompanied by grey? What do you think this is? Soul Train at the old folks' home? You must be mistaken. Though please, for once in your life, could tell me why I deal with someone like you?

Weighing in possible answers and outcomes, the janitor methodically took his time to answer until he did just that.

Janitor: Well for one thing y...

Sighing in annoyance, Simon rolled his eyes and spoke up.

Simon: Okay, you're going off on a tangent now. How selfish can one person be?

Before the janitor got a chance to answer, Simon intervened once again.

Simon: Don't even say it. You blurt that out and I swear that I'll get Van Damme and or Segal to go straight-to-video on your ass. Don't start with me. As you can tell, I'm not in the greatest of moods.

Nodding his head in agreement, the man let S2 continue.

Simon: Anyway, here is Ford. Doing this and doing that, not even caring about what I think and this is what happens. Syphon "PMS" Fission gets out of hand and destroys Schitzo Tod to an inch of his life. Fission gets to walk into this place like he owns it and leave with a title...the world title no less. Then, after all this carnage-a-mundo, you know what transpires? Fission gets to face Malone and I, the person who literally saved Tod's career, receives the privilege of fighting him in a match.

Focusing back on his duty at hand, the janitor gathers his things while listening to him.

Simon: The president could've opened a window or something during Fission's hot flash attack, but no. Syphon Fission keeps the world title and I get the short end of the stick. Yet, another case of the white man...holding the better looking, white man down. Believe me, I fight the power and I fight it good, but he just doesn't get it.

Janitor: I know where you're coming from. I remember one time when my former boss was ragging on me to clean some toilets. I told him I already cleaned all of them, but he told me to clean them again. I said I did them twice, he yelled at me to clean them with a toothbrush or I would be fired. If there's one thing that you should know, it's that sometimes, they don't understand. They don't understand one bit.

Unaware of Simon's departure from the scene, the janitor observed his surroundings and looked around in utter confusion.

Janitor: Mr. Seaman? Mr. Seaman?!


Leaning forward on what looked to be a desk, Simon expressed his

Evan Levine vs. Harold Hash
vs.
GP: Next up we have a match involving one of the greatest IWO athletes of all time, taking on a man who has overcome great obstacles to reach this point in his career!

JT: Please tell me you're not talking about Harold Hash vs. Evan Levine.

GP: Why yes, yes I am JT.

JT: That was the most BS hype up of a match I've ever heard. There's no chemistry between these two. No anger. No long standing fued. So what if Hash broke his neck when he was 3 years old or something? So what if Evan Levine gets butt rap.....

GP: That's enough JT, there isn't enough air time left for one of your mindless rants.

JT: Whatever, let's just get on with the damn match then.

The camera cuts to the ring where Meygon is standing. She is holding the microphone in her hand. Such vivid description huh?

Meygon: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, hailing from..........

Meygon is cut off by the sound of thunder crashing and pouring rain. Accompanying the rain is the sound of two tom drums being hit three consecutive times. THUMP THUMP THUMP................ THUMP THUMP THUMP................ THUMP THUMP THUMP........... it doesn't take the crowd long to figure out that the rain sound isn't just regular rain.......it's RAINING BLOOD. The opening riffs of "Raining Blood" by Slayer kick in as Psycho Jay steps out onto the ramp along with his manager Vincent. The crowd goes nuts and stuff, but some people boo and hold signs up that say "Psycho Jay is gay and unfunnay" and "Haha, that rhymes"

GP: What the hell is he doing out here?

JT: He's come back to visit! I haven't talked to Jay in FOREVER.

GP: You mean you haven't kissed his ass in a while.

Psycho Jay calmly walks down the ramp with Vincent in tow. They take a seat at the announcers table with Vincent to JT's right and Jay to Parker's left. The music stops and the crowd is still abuzz.....either about Jay's entrance or the size of Vincent's penis.

GP: So Psycho Jay, what brings you out here. You're not scheduled to be out here until later on tonight when you take on Jack Breaker in a #1 contendorship match.

Psycho Jay: I don't need to be scheduled to come out here. If I decide that I wanna watch Ickvain Laevarn get his ass whooped live and in person then I just come out. One can never get enough of watching Evan get pummeled.

JT: I agree.

Vincent: FUCKING STOP MOTHER FUCKING BEING A COCKSUCKING WHORE FUCKING JT AND FUCKING BE YOUR MOTHER FUCKING OWN MAN BITCH!

JT: Ok, I'll keep that in mind Vincent.

GP: Ok can we just get to this match?

Psycho Jay: What's the hurry Parker? You in the mood to see Evan lose too?

GP: I'm actually picking Levine to win this match. He's got the experience factor on his side and he's due to break out of this slump.........

There is a dramatic pause before all three other men excluding GP break into laughter.

Jay, Vincent, and JT: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Psycho Jay: Greg, be honest, Levine's way past his "prime" if you can call it that. It's not a slump, he just sucks and I'll....

Meygon is standing in the ring still tapping her foot impatiently. She finally decides to start without waiting for the guys to stop talking.

Meygon: As I was saying, hailing from Raleigh, NC, weighing in at 235 pounds here is............................. HAROLD HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!

"Hacksaw Decapitation" by Cannibal Corpse blasts over the PA system as Harold Hash comes out from behind the curtains accompanied by Gus the Black Angus.

Vincent: FUCKING WHAT IN MOTHER FUCKING HELL IS FUCKING IS A FUCKING BITCH ASS BLACK ANGUS?

Psycho Jay: I dunno, but Hash should automatically win this match just because of his entrance music.

GP: Ah yes, Cannibal Corpse is a very.....interesting group.

Vincent: FUCKING CANNIBAL MOTHER FUCKING CORPSE FUCKING DOMINATES MOTHER FUCKER. FUCKING DEVOURED BY VERMIN!

JT: Cannibal Corpse rules! I love their song um....er.....Kill, Eat, and Rape.....stuff.

Psycho Jay: That's not a song jackass. You may mean "Stripped, Raped and Strangled", or "I will kill you".

JT: Oh yeah, those are good.

Hash is now in the ring and he's head-banging violently to Cannibal Corpse because anyone that has heard death metal music knows they must headbang extremely fast and will almost definitely get whiplash. Anyway, before Hash's head flies off from excessive headbanging, Meygon continues.

Meygon: And his opponent, hailing from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.......weighing in at 243 pounds, he is a former 2 time IWO World Champion, here is.............EVAN LEVIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNEEEEEE!!!

"Simon Says" by Pharoah Monch plays as Evan Levine walks out from the back with Discord on his arm. OK, not actually attached to his arm, but holding onto his arm. The crowd gives him a mixed reaction.

Psycho Jay: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Vincent: BOOOMOTHERFUCKINGASSHOLEOOOOOOOOOO.

Levine climbs into the ring as the ropes are held by Discord. He stares menacingly over at the table after hearing the boos coming from Jay and Vincent. He tugs on the ropes a few times and bounces from one rope to another, never taking his eyes off of Jay and Vincent.

GP: Levine doesn't seem to be too happy that you're out here Jay.

Psycho Jay: Too bad. I'm not here to interfere, I'm sure Levine can handle losing without my help. I'm just here to take pleasure in an old foes' misery.

GP: Then what are those Juji Fruits for?

Psycho Jay: OK, so I'm here to hope Evan loses and to throw Juji fruits at him too.

JT: Can I throw some too?

Psycho Jay: No.

Evan takes his eyes off of Jay just in time to be greeted with a dropkick to the face from Hash. Hash quickly stomps Levine several times and pulls him to his feet. He whips him to the ropes and knocks him back down with a vicious clothesline. Levine gets back to his feet quickly, but is taken right back down with another stiff clothesline from Hash. Hash bounces off the ropes and drops an elbow to the sternum of Evan.

GP: Evan hasn't had any offense yet. Hash is all over him. It may be that he's being distracted by two jokers throwing candy at him.....

Psycho Jay and Vincent pay no mind to Parker and continue to pelt the ring with Juji fruits. Hash stops beating Levine for a moment and starts to eat the red Juji's off of the mat. This distraction gives Levine enough time to recuperate and nail Hash with a Belly-to-back spinning suplex. Levine springs up and looks to be suprised he pulled off the move. Hash gets back to his feet, but is wobbly and Levine takes advantage with a flying cross body press into a cover.

1...

2...

JT: That's the closest Levine has come to a victory in years!

Psycho Jay: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Levine ignores the boos and continues his attack on Hash. He picks him up and sends him into the turnbuckle. Evan follows in with a hard elbow to the chin of Hash, then hops to the second rope quickly and nails him with a tornado DDT! Hash's head smacked ugly on the canvas.

Psycho Jay: Hey Vince, didn't you have sex with Discord before?

Vincent: FUCKING VINCENT FUCKED ALL THE MOTHER FUCKING SKANKY WHORES IN THE IFUCKINGWO FUCKING DICK.

JT: Yeah me too man.

The other three commentators stare blankly at JT before turning their attention back to the match where Levine is still in control. He's putting the boots to Hash on the mat, but Hash is trying to pull himself back up using the 2nd and 3rd ropes. Levine kicks Hash's hand off the ropes and proceeds to lock him into an arm bar. The ref asks if Hash wants to submit, even though everyone knows that nobody submits to an armbar unless they are a bitch.

Psycho Jay: Come on Hash! Orgasm Through Torture!

Vincent: FUCKING SANDED FACELESS!!

Psycho Jay: Addicted to Vaginal Skin!

JT: Hey they wrote a song about me?

GP: That's horrible.

Hash is able to get to the ropes to break the deadly armbar hold. Levine picks him up, kicks him in the gut and drops him on his head with a double arm DDT. Levine points at the announcers table and calls for the end of the match. Levine buries Hash with a Sambo suplex which he calls the Lay Low.

GP: The Lay Low! He's gonna end it now! My prediction will be right! Here comes Genetic Perfection!

Psycho Jay: Yeah right, there's no way Levine will hit that.

Levine picks up Hash and attempts to hit the Genetic Perfection(tomikazi), but he slips on a stray Juji fruit! It looks like Levine has twisted his ankle. He's writhing around the ring in pain as Harold Has gradually gets to his feet.

GP: Damnit! Damn that chewy little fruit snack!

Psycho Jay: I didn't throw that one, JT was wetting the ones he threw.

JT: WAS NOT!

Hash is now back up, but so is Levine, although with a slight limp as he's still walking off the effects of the Juji fruit incident. Levine attempts a Ne-Han, but since I don't know what that is, he either misses or it gets reversed into a traditional vertical suplex by Hash. Hash quickly scampers to the top rope and goes for a flying leg drop, but Levine rolls out of the way. Both men somehow get back to their feet and begin trading blows. Hash staggers Levine and hooks him up for the QWERT. He drops Levine right on his head with the reverse T-bone suplex and goes for the cover.

1...

2...


GP: LEVINE BARELY KICKED OUT!

Psycho Jay: Come on ref, slow count!

JT: Yeah slow count!

Vincent bitch slaps JT with his massove cock. Inside the ring Hash is in charge now as he's stomping a mudhole in Levine. Hash goes to the outside and reaches under the ring. He pulls out a MIDGET! The Midget is a dead copy of Evan Levine!

Midget Levine: wut eez gowing owen? eyem knot stupozed 2 b hear!

Psycho Jay: Wo, I wonder where he got that. It's perfect.

Vincent: FUCKING YOU SOLD IT TO HIM FROM THE FUCKING MOTHER FUCKING MIDGE-O-MATIC FUCKER!

Psycho Jay: Oh yeah.

JT: hey what's is cost for a Greg Parker midget?

Psycho Jay: Oh I don't know. A few hundred. Remember it'll have to be heavier than most midgets.

JT: Cool.

Hash has brought the midget to the ring and he throws it at Levine! Levine catches his midget and before he knows it gets dropkicked! Hash dropkicked the midget into Levine. Levine's head went right into the crotch of the midget!

Psycho Jay: He probably enjoys that.

Hash is now setting up Levine with 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 )" Now Hash is heading to the top ropes! Levine is laid out flat on his back and is in la la land! Hash is at the top and he comes off with 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 )"

GP: Oh no!

Vincent: IT'S MOTHER FUCKING OVER FUCKERS!

JT: The ref counts!

Psycho Jay: 1............................ 2................................ THREEEEEEEEEEE!!!! YES! HAHAHAHAHAHA! LEVINE GOES DOWN AGAIN!

Meygon: Here is your winner...........HAROOOOLLLDDDD HAAAAAAAAASSHHHH!

Harold Hash celebrates briefly, before climbing on his cow manager Gus the Black Angus and riding off into the sunset.....or at least into the back.

Psycho Jay: Let's go Vince.

Vincent: FUCKING ARE WE GONNA FUCKING DESTROY MOTHER FUCKING BITCH ASS DICKHEAD FUCKING LEVINE?

Psycho Jay: No, it's not even a challenge anymore to beat Levine down. His patheticness takes the fun out of it.

Psycho Jay and Vincent get up and leave as Discord is in the ring helping Levine to his feet after the vicious 450 splash from Hash. Levine doesn't seem very happy as he shoves Discord out of the way a bit and slowly heads to the back with his head hung low.

GP: Well there goes my prediction.

JT: Come on, did you really think he'd win? I'll bet I could take his girl right now with no problem.

GP: What's that have to to with wrestling?

JT: Nothing, it has to do with me getting laid by a hot chick who's man is a loser! It's the perfect scenario!

GP: You're a tool.

Two years ago, Schitzo Tod joined IWO as a nobody. But now, two years later, Tod is finding himself at a crossroads. Which path to take? On one side, you have the IWO. Tod would be nothing if it wasn't for the IWO. But on the other side, Tod had his sanity.

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.

Sure, wrestling is fake. Even as a fake sport, wrestling is physically and mentally demanding. But, imagine would it would be like if it wasn't fake. If it was *REAL*.

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.

No... Tod can't handle it. He's quitting. That's the end of it.

thoughts in a solemn tone of voice.

Simon: Sometimes I wish people would just listen to me for a change. I'm not a mean person and I'm not an agressive person. I enjoy a good romp in the garden of earthly delights from time to time. I've seen Spider-man, I've done the skateboarding...I've listened to the dirty pop. I am in tune with what people want, yet they simply ignore me. You ever get that feeling that you're talking to a brick wall? That's how I feel when I try to voice my opinion.

Running his fingers through his hair, Simon would continue in spite of his frustration.

Simon: So I seek assistance from the intelligent of the intelligent. Thinking and being Simon Seaman in my situation seems as though it's just not going to cut it. That's why I look up to an individual that might not have the answers, but can provide me with proper guidance nonetheless. I think to myself...what would Tony Danza do in this situation?

Staring down at the ground, he paused for a moment to think it all through.

Simon: He's with it like myself, so I try to look at it from his point of view.

Slamming his hands against the edge of the desk, he raised his voice.

Simon: I need to convince the IWO and its president that it needs somebody like me. They don't think so, but they don't know what's good for them. Simon Seaman puts butts in seats and gets people on the edge of those same seats. Whether internationally, nationally, or locally...I entertain. What the whole IWO doesn't understand is that by giving me a second chance, I could really do something. So here I am today thinking it all through. They want to do this to me...well I'm going to reciprocate. If the IWO wants action, it's going to get action. Now what do you think of that?

Looking onward, the camera panned over as the director of the event sat in his seat paying absolutely no attention to what Simon Seaman had to say, wishing instead to cue to the next scene.

Director: Cut to camera two in five.

Realizing that he really wasn't wanted there, Simon stood up and walked away in anger.

Simon: Oh, so now you're taking the camera off of me. Great, just great. Super terrific...

Cruiserweight Title Match
Donnie Daze -c- v. Daniel Phillips
vs.

GP: So, anyway... next up is the Cruiserweight ti-

JT: DANIEL~!

GP: -tle match... which obviously means that JT is going to pimp Daniel Phillips like crazy throughout the match.

JT: You'd better believe it, baby.

GP: As well all know, Donnie Daze was the man that took Daniel Phillips out of the IWO in late 2000, and ever since he came back, he's been seeking vengeance on the man that took him out. Though Phillips had a shot at the title at Conspiracy Theory, he couldn't get the job done, but Phillips' performance at Conspiracy Theory, not to mention Phillips costing Daze the win of the entire event, earned him a second shot at Daze.

JT: Which he will obviously win, since Daze had to pick on a weakened Daniel to pick up the win!

GP: ...riiiiigghhhttt...

"One Thing" by Gravity Kills began to blare out of the PA system, and almost as a knee-jerk reaction, the fans began to boo heavilly for the man that had absolutely no respect for any fan or any wrestler in Daniel Phillips. Phillips smirked in his own little evil way toward the fans as they hurled obscenities and food at him.

Meygon: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for the best of three falls and it is for the Cruiserweight title! Introducing first, the challenger... from Phoenix, Arizona... weighing in at two hundred and twelve pounds... DANIEL PHILLIPS!

The fans booed his very name as Daniel rolled into the ring and proceeded to give various members of the crowd the finger.

GP: Phillips has yet to actually win a match, thus far, in the IWO, so you have to wonder how well he'll do against Donnie Daze, tonight.

JT: Bah. His opponents thus far all got lucky! LUCKY!!

"One Thing" was soon replaced by "Geronimo" by Unwritten Law. The fans erupted as the IWO Cruiserweight champion, Donnie Daze, walked out to the ring. Daze entered the ring, took off his belt, and immediately went after Phillips in the corner before Meygon could announce him, as the bell rang.

GP: This match is underway!

JT: Yay.

Daze pounded away on Phillips in the corner, before sending him into the corner. However, Phillips reversed the irish whip and sent Daze crashing into the corner. Phillips ran to follow up with an avalanche-like maneuver, but Daze moved out of the way, ran into the opposite ropes, then came back with a dropkick that sent Phillips to the outside.

GP: And already, Daze has cleared the ring!

JT: BAH! Phillips didn't let him clear the ring! He's... uh... REGROUPING!

And apparently, Phillips regrouped himself right into the path of an angry Donnie Daze, as he shot himself over the top and onto Phillips with a pescado. Upon landing, Daze began to pound away on Daniel's head with right hands, and then he rammed Phillips's skull into the post.

JT: HEY, DAMMIT! THAT'S CHEATING!

As the match was two-out-of-three falls, it really did little good to count out both men, so both men began to brawl in the aisleway. A fan held up a small VHS cassette, which Daze proceeded to crash upon the skull of Daniel Phillips.

JT: HEY! DAMMIT! Come ON! Hitting people with VHS tapes is not cool!

GP: Yeah. DVDs are so much more in style, anyway.

JT: Shut the FUCK up, Parker.

Phillips was staggering, and he was beginning to throw punches that hit nothing except air. Daze took the opportunity to scoop up Daniel and slam him to the hard, unforgiving concrete floor. Looking around for some other weapon, Daze found a steel folding chair, and went for the attack.

Donnie Daze: You wanted revenge? You wanted to get back at me? You wanted my belt? Well, let me be the first to say... FUCK YOU!

*SMACK!*

JT: Man, why doesn't the ref disqualify Daze?!

GP: Apparently, Phillips had asked for a no disqualification rule to this match, or something to that effect. He's paying for it now, though!

Daze lifted the chair up again, and waited for Phillips to get back on his feet. He did so, and swung with a wild chairshot that missed Phillips, but gave an interesting visual for the viewers at home, as the chair impacted a camera's lens.

JT: HEY, COME ON! WE PAID A LOT OF MONEY FOR THOSE CAMERAS!

GP: Aww... poor widdle JT might get another pay cut... :-P

JT: Shut up shut up shut THE FUCK UP.

As Daze turned around after his miss, he was met with a superkick to the jaw by Phillips.

JT: YEAH~! FINALLY!

Phillips stomped away at Daze's back, before he picked him up and went for the Inciter. However, Daze blocked it by flipping up and over Phillips' head. Daze waistlocked Phillips and went for a German suplex, but then took a low blow mule kick by Phillips that caused for the subsequent groan of pain from the male members of the audience, followed by a large amount of booing.

GP: Daze is down, now, and both men have spent more time on the outside than they have on the inside. Phillips is pulling Daze back up on his feet, now, and he's not really intending to do anything to Daze that involves pinning him...

Phillips pulled Daze toward the steel chair that he dropped, and then he proceeded to DDT him on said chair.

GP: OH! DDT ONTO THE STEEL CHAIR!

JT: You know, if Daze had any sort of brains whatsoever, he probably would have lost them after his head was crushed by that move.

GP: Well, he'll come back from it.

JT: That's because he's too hard-headed to realize that he's in there with the KING OF THE CRUISERWEIGHTS~!

GP: Gah.

As Phillips got to his feet, Gunnar Smith walked into the ring, dressed in all red and black, and he began to paint a pentagram in the center of the ring. The fans were confused, as were the announcers.

GP: Oh, great! First, we piss off the PTC because Syphon Fission decided to be overly violent, then they get mad at midget Nuke for being... well, midget Nuke... NOW we have Gunnar Smith in the ring, painting a pentagram!

JT: Next thing you know, he'll be burning crosses in Alabama with John Maples, Shaun Banin, and John Rocker!

GP: W/E.

JT: W/E!

Phillips was blissfully unaware of what Gunnar Smith, Satan himself, was doing, and wasn't even intending to bring him back into the ring just yet. Instead, he dragged Daze to the entryway, throwing an elbow in his face every once in a while to stun him.

GP: Where in the HELL are they going?

JT: The boardwalk~!

Indeed, as Phillips bashed Daze's face into the staircase that lead from the beach to the boardwalk. Phillips pulled Daze to his feet and dragged him up the steps, as the referee was seemingly okay with following them up to the boardwalk. Phillips caught Daze with another elbow as he was getting back up, and then he went for a Spotlighter on the wooden floor of the boardwalk, using the railing as a spring. However, as Phillips flipped backwards for the DDT portion of the move, Daze put both hands on Phillips' stomach and pushed backwards, throwing him off and into a hot dog vendor.

Hot Dog Vendor: HEY~!

The hot dog vendor picked up a foot long hot dog and waved it around threateningly.

GP: What's he going to do with that foot long wiener?

There was an awkward pause.

JT: Do I even have to dignify that with a response? Christ, who's *writing* this shit, anyway?!

The scene cuts to a team of monkeys that were banging at typewriters like nobody's business. They make lots and lots of "ooh ooh ahh ahh" noises. The camera pans out until it reaches the door, which shuts. On the door is a mantle that reads "IWO Writing Staff". The scene cut back to the hot dog vendor who was threatening both Daze and Phillips with the wiener.

GP: And still yet, somehow, we manage to beat out the writing staff of WWE.

JT: Indeed.

The hot dog vendor took a lunge at Phillips, but Phillips performed a roll to avoid it, and then proceeded to kick the vendor in the... uh... weiner. Hey, this stuff just writes itself, okay? Anyway, the vendor clutches his nuts and cries out.

Hot Dog Vendor: AHHHHH~! I WANT MY MOMMY~!

He proceeded to run away. Phillips turned to Daze, and Daze turned to Phillips. Both of them shrugged, and both of them made a silent vow to forget what just happened. Daze then spears down Phillips.

GP: Right hands! Right hands by Daze! He's got the upper hand on Daniel Phillips, now!

JT: NO! NOO! Stop it! STOP THIS CHEATING AT ONCE!

Speaking of cheating, while Daze was pummelling Phillips, Phillips had managed to pull off a loose board from the boardwalk and thwack Daze over the skull with it. As Daze fell back, clutching his head, Phillips took full advantage with another blow to the head with the board, before he tossed the weapon away.

GP: Yes, I agree. Stop the cheating, Phillips does a little too much of it! Now what's he doing? He's going over to that other vendor, the one that's selling live lobsters...

Daniel Phillips: Hey, you! How much for a lobster?

Lobster Salesman: *in bad Russian accent* I don't speak the English.

Phillips: Oh. Well, the IWO will pay for the lobsters damaged!

GP: WHAT?! WE BARELY HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO KEEP *US* EMPLOYED!

JT: And now that I think about it... how logical is it to have a street vendor selling live lobsters in a cart, anyway? Who would buy *live* lobsters on the street, anyway? Sheesh.

Before Parker can answer that, Phillips took the lobster cart and shoved it into the general direction of Donnie Daze. Daze didn't see it until he sat up, and by then, it was too late, as the lobster cart smacked him hard in the face, and then, to add insult to injury, toppled over and spilled its lobstery goodness on Donnie Daze.

GP: Okay, OUCH. That was a bit vicious.

JT: AHAHAHAHA! THOSE LOBSTERS ARE ATTACKING DAZE~!

GP: Stop this at once! They're all... slimy and vicious! Evil!

JT: Hey, I happen to LIKE lobsters. Anyway, with Daze stunned, Phillips is going over to him and he picks him up... ahahaha! Some of the lobsters are STILL attached to Daze's body! This is the greatest match ever~!

GP: Oh, lord. Anyway, Phillips has Daze... oh no! No! He's not gonna hit the Perfe- NO! Daze shoves Phillips in front of him and Phillips goes CRASHING into a nearby ice cream vendor! Phillips just got a whole load of ice cream all over his body!

JT: NO~!

As Phillips tried to recover, Donnie Daze managed to knock off any lobsters still hanging from his body, and then he ran and launched himself toward the remnants of the ice cream cart and dropkicked it right into Phillips' body. Phillips fell over and Daze immediately went into the cover. The referee just shrugged and made the count.

GP: Daze with the cover! ONE!!! ...TWO!!!

JT: Wait, NO!

GP: KICKOUT!!

JT: YES! PRAISE ALLAH~!

Daze couldn't believe it, and he went to pull Phillips up. Unfortunately for him, Phillips had managed to pick up one of the lobsters and shove it in Daze's face. Daze cried out in pain, before Phillips caught him with a kick in the nuts, a poke in the eye, a kick in the gut, and a front facelock.

GP: Phillips has Daze hooked!

JT: YES! YES! PERFECT HALO~! HE GOT IT! INTO THE COVER... ONE... TWO... THREE!!!

GP: Phillips has pinned Daze! But... it's only the first fall!

JT: Wha?! DAMMIT! Not one of these two-out-of-three falls crap deals? SHIT. COME ON, PHILLIPS! JUST *KILL* HIM AND GO HOME WITH THE GOLD!

GP: You're a sick bastard. Anywayu, it may look like Phillips is going to take your advice, because he's pulling Phillips up and he's going for another Perfect Halo... but no! Daze reverses it with a northern lights suplex!

Daze released the pinning part of the suplex before he could make one, though, as he slowly got to his feet after getting hit with Phillips' finisher. He got back to his feet and threw some right hands at Phillips, which rocked him. Phillips tried to fire back with right hands of his own, but Daze ducked one of them and kneed Phillips in the gut, before he tossed Daniel right up and over the turnstiles that led to an amusement park.

Ticket Person: Hey! You didn't pay for a ticket!

Donnie Daze: And?

Ticket Person: Well, you didn't! Now, I'm gonna have to go to my boss to keep you two large... muscular... extremely tough-looking individua- ...you know what? Go into the fucking park... it's not as if you'll survive anyway! HAHA! MUWAHAHAHA! *cough, cough* ...damn cough.

With that, the ticket person disappeared behind his booth. Daze found his statements a tad strange, but he shrugged and waited for Phillips to get on his feet. When he did so, Daze jumped up onto the turnstiles, and leapt off of them, landing a pseudo-springboard clothesline.

JT: Hey, dammit! Stop... like, fighting and stuff, and let Phillips just take your damn title!

GP: Daze isn't going to give up!

JT: Yeah, and that's exactly why I don't like him any more! Stupid... not-giving-up... asshole cost-me-lots-and-lots-of-money bastard...

GP: I hope you didn't place a bet on this match, too...

JT: Oh, you bet your cowboy hat, I bet money! You think Daze can cost me money and get away with it? FUCK NO, Daze is a DEAD MAN, and I have a hundred bucks that'll PROVE that!

GP: ...I don't wear a cowboy hat...

As Daze got to his feet, he saw that Phillips was still down, so he went away for a second to look for another weapon. Phillips saw this and used this moment to get away from Daze for a moment, by entering a house of mirrors. Daze saw him go in, and went to follow him in. He immediately saw Phillips and went for a superkick.

*CRASH*!

JT: Haha! What an idiot! He kicked a mirror!

Another superkick followed, this time from Phillips to Daze, and this one slammed into Daze's jaw. Satisfied that his trick managed to take down Daze momentarilly, he dragged Daze out of the house of mirrors and out into the amusement park again. Phillips dragged Daze toward the rollercoaster, but Daze fought back before Phillips could reach the coaster's cars. Immediately, Daze jumped into the cars and was about to execute something, when, mysteriously, the abanonded car began to move.

GP: Um, what the HELL? I thought this amusement park was abandoned?!

Daze had a look on his face that indicated bewilderment, so he jumped off of the rollercoaster. Phillips saw this, and ran toward Daze, but Daze had other plans, and he ducked just as Phillips leapt at him for a flying forearm.

*CRASH*!


JT: NOOOOO!!!! DAMMIT!

GP: Holy mother of CHRIST! Phillips just went THROUGH the glass of that ticket booth! I think he may have been busted open by that miss! Now Daze is taking advantage, because he just grabbed a piece of that glass and he's pulling Phillips out of the wreckage that used to be a ticket booth!

JT: That CHEATER! This man cannot fight a battle with Daniel Phillips without excessive cheating! Come on, ref! Do your job!

GP: I think this ref is more of a spectator of this match than an actual offical!

Daze went for a slash to Phillips chest with the glass, but Phillips drew in his chest to avoid the slash, and then he unleashed a kick to the hand that had the glass, and then he landed a hard spinning kick to the face of Daze, that sent him spiralling off of the platform. Phillips paused for a second before he took a running leap and tried for an elbow drop. Daze, however, had rolled away upon seeing Phillips looking for the elbow.

GP: Both men trying their hardest, but you have to wonder exactly how much damage Phillips has been taking... I mean, he's bleeding pretty badly right now.

Daze got up first, and he grabbed Phillips by his hair. He dragged him over to a nearby merry-go-round, which had mysteriously turned itself on. However, Phillips recovered and managed to toss Daze onto the merry-go-round. He paused to catch a breather, but he failed to notice that Daze recovered while the merry-go-round was coming back, and it had taken him to behind Phillips. Daze took a running leap before he caught Phillips with a bulldog.

JT: NO~! Damn that BACKFIGHTER! This is too much! Phillips is a technical wrestler! Phillips is an ICON of the Cruiserweight division! He's not a back-fighting, cowardly, weapon-using brawler like Donnie Daze is!

GP: *stunned* Phillips has done each and every one of those things you just described! Do I even have to dignify THAT statement with ANY sort of credibility?

JT: Yes, you do, because it's TRUE, DAMMIT!

Daze pulled Phillips to his feet again, and pulled him toward what appeared to be a UFO. It was actually one of those fun spinny-things that pins you to the wall as it spins really, really fast.

GP: Oh, lord, Daze and Phillips are heading toward that UFO ride!

JT: Oh, I LOVE those rides! They're all like "RUAHH~!" and you're all like "OH, DEAR, I SEEM TO BE PINNED AGAINST THIS WALL" and they're all like "YARR!" and then you throw up. Fucking awesome, man.

And of course, since this amusement park was apparently haunted, the UFO ride turned on while Daze and Phillips were inside. They both were pinned against the wall by the centrifugal force. Daniel managed to crawl toward toward Daze, and the two weakly brawled while being pinned against the UFO's walls.

JT: They're STILL fighting, despite the fact that they're pinned against the walls here!

GP: I... uh... guess this is IWO entertainment... at its best?

Finally, the ride stops and both men collapse onto the floor of the UFO. After a second, both men got back to their feet and continued to brawl, as Daze grabbed Phillips by his hair and tossed him directly out of the UFO, landing Daniel on his back.

It was around this time that a large amount of litter that covered the floor started to float up on its own, and race toward Donnie Daze. Daze turned when he saw the movement from the corner of his eye, and was immediately pelted with the flying garbage.

GP: Okay, can I be the first to say... "what in the FUCK was that?"

JT: Well, no, you're not the first to say it. I'm sure a lot of people at home were saying the same thing before you said it, only much quieter and less obnoxious than you are right now.

GP: I hate you.

JT: The feeling is mutual.

Daze was knocked down, allowing Phillips to lift him up again. He went, again, for the Perfect Halo, but Daze blocked it yet again, so Phillips changed positions and turned Daze incite out with the Inciter, a blue thunder powerbomb.

JT: INCITAH~! WOO~! YEAH! *singing* GO DANNY, GO DANNY, IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY...

GP: *confused* ...why does the song go like that, even when it's not even remotely close to being his birthday?

JT just shrugged, as Daniel Phillips got up off of Daze's body, and proceeded to grab him by his hair. He dragged him back to the entrance of the park and attempted to toss Daze over the turnstiles again. Unfortunately for him, Daze kept him from doing that with a mule kick to the groin. After taking a brief moment to recover, Daze tried to hip toss Phillips up and over the turnstiles.

JT: JESUS CHRIST, NO~!

GP: What in the HOLY FUCK?!

Apparently, some invisible force blocked Phillips from actually going over the turnstiles, and Phillips landed, rather viciously, and rather face first-like, onto the turnstiles. Daze was confused, and he decided to test this force for himself. After finding out that the entrance was sealed, he actually smiled to himself, and grabbed Phillips by his hair, before he repeatedly slammed Phillips' face into the invisible barrier.

JT: Hey! HEY! No fair! Supernatural forces can't interfere! I mean, SHEESH, we've been dealing with this shit for years! I mean, what would the world do if they found out that High Flyer's time machine accidently smashing into a nearby UFO caused the Roswell incident? Or if they found out that Bigfoot was really Zombie with really bad back hair? We'd kill the entire paranormalist movement!

GP: ...okay, how much of Shawn Carter's stash did you actually SWIPE tonight?

JT: *excitedly* LOTS!!!

Phillips' skull was becoming a surrogate drumstick to the drum of the invisible barrier, but as Daze finished off his set by hitting a reverse DDT, he heard a voice from behind him.

Voice: Stop this at once! You're supposed to get all scared that you can't get out of here... not use my invisible ghostly barrier as a weapon of war against your adversary!

Donnie Daze: ...huh?

Voice: COME ON, THIS PLACE IS HAUNTED! AT LEAST *PRETEND* YOU'RE SCARED!

And with that, the ghost revealed himself to be Al Coholic. The Eleventh Ghost, actually.

Daze: Oh, god dammit, that was so anti-climatic.

JT: For once, I'm gonna have to AGREE with Donnie Daze. Hey, isn't there like a treasure chest out there that can contain the Thirteen Ghosts of Al Coholic, like in that stupid Scooby Doo cartoon with the Generic Asian Stereotype?

11th Ghost of Al Coholic: Oh, come on, can't I have a little fun? I got bored of drinking lots and lots of alcohol here! I mean, you try living a life as a ghost when you're just the eleventh incarnation of your previous self! There's TEN OTHERS JUST LIKE ME, you know! Not to mention the ones that came about in the next couple of times that I died!

Daze: Are you quite done?

Ghost of Coholic: No! I'm pissed off and I intend to stay that way!

Donnie Daze sighed.

Daze: Where's an exorcist when you need one?

As if on cue, Rob Kestler showed up, wearing a priest's robes and carrying a small bag with him. He tipped his hat, if he had a hat, toward the ghost.

Ghost of Coholic: Noooo!!! ANYONE BUT YOU!

Rob Kestler: Ooh, shiny ghosty person!

Kestler proceeded to place a beanie on the Coholic ghost's head. The 11th Ghost of Al Coholic began to get rather irritable.

Ghost of Coholic: Hey! HEY! I am a respectable Hall of Famer and former IWO World Champion who got lots of head in my day, and I don't appreciate being mocked in this fashion!

Kestler began to do an Indian tribal dance. The ghost's body parts began to flail about in random directions.

Kestler: Doo doo doo, ooh ooh, mooga booga foo, derp! How silly!

Ghost of Coholic: Nooooo!!!

And with that, the ghost disappeared. Daze turned to Kestler.

Daze: Dude, thanks! He was irritating and smelly.

Kestler: Yes, now... off to my action figures! Princess Peach must be rescued from the nefarious... um... GI Joe action figure of doom! Moo!

And with that, Kestler skipped away.

JT: That was sincerely FUCKED UP.

GP: I agree.

Daze turned around to go back to work on Phillips, but Phillips grabbed Daze by his head and tossed him up and over the turnstiles. A heavilly bleeding Phillips hopped over the turnstiles, himself, and both men were finally out of the amusement park. Both men began to exchange right hands in the middle of the boardwalk.

GP: Both men are giving it their all, but you have to believe that despite being down by one fall, Donnie Daze has the advantage thanks to Phillips being all busted open and stuff.

JT: *sniff* IT'S NOT FAIR!

Phillips managed to stun Daze against the railing of the boardwalk with an eye rake. He plotted to try and nail a clothesline that would send Daze spiralling off of the boardwalk and fall ten feet into the sand below, but Daze ducked.

JT: NOOOOO!!!!!!

GP: HOLY SHIT! Donnie Daze just backdropped Daniel Phillips off of the boardwalk and back onto the beach! I think Phillips may be down and out!

But just to make sure, Daze turned around and looked down at Phillips, before he leapt.

GP: OH MY HOLIEST GOD! DAZE WITH A CATAPULT DAZE BLAZE OFF THE BOARDWALK, AND TEN FEET TO THE BEACH BELOW! DANIEL PHILLIPS MIGHT AS WELL SIGN HIS DEATH CERTIFICATE!

JT: NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

GP: Our referee is quickly making his way down to the beach to make the count!

JT: Get up, Danny! GET UP!

GP: The referee is here! ONE!!!

JT: KICK OUT! COME ON!

GP: TWO!!!

JT: NOOO!!!

GP: THRRREEEEE!!!!

As JT bashed his skull on the American announce table, Gunnar Smith was finishing up his pentagram in the ring. He stood up and stood in the middle of it, and began an arcane chant.

Gunnar Smith: Spirits of darkness, hear my plea! Spirits of shade, let their pants pee! At the sound of these words, let the demons come in herds! For this rhyming sucks, let the ring be infested by demon ducks!

JT: That was the worst arcane chant I've ever heard.

The pentagram suddenly transforms into... into...

GP: NO! NOT HIM! ANYONE BUT HIM!

Indeed.

It was El Pollo Diablo 0v0.

El Pollo Diablo 0v0: MUWAKEKEKEKEKE! I HAVE RETURNED FROM THE CHICKEN'S NEST OF HELL! I WILL WREAK HAVOC ON YOUR CHILDREN AND THRUST MY THROBBING CHICKEN COCK INTO YOUR MORE ATTRACTIVE WOMEN, FOR I AM THE CHICKEN FROM HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANY MORE!

GP: Dear god, and I thought the Mega Job Invitational was bad.

JT: Are you saying that this is actually worse than the Mega Job Invitational?

GP: *pause* ...well, no, not really... nothing is as bad as that.

Gunnar Smith, satisfied at his act of Satanic ritual, exited the ring. Stage left. Meanwhile, Donnie Daze and Daniel Phillips were both back up, despite both of them taking exceedingly long falls from the boardwalk, and exchanging punches on their way back to the ring. Daze was gaining the edge, until he bumped into El Pollo Diablo 0v0.

El Pollo Diablo 0v0: MUWAKEKEKEKE!!!

And with that screech, El Pollo Diablo tossed Daze and Phillips into the ring. Both men got up, and then they were both locked into El Pollo Diablo Finisher #12539: Flight of the Birdkyrie, which was actually a testicular claw.

JT: OUCH! OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH!

GP: May God have mercy on the mortal souls of those who are in this position. Except Phillips.

JT: Arr!

The referee got into the ring and tried to make El Pollo Diablo stop, but he kicked the referee in the nads(while still holding Finisher #12539 on Daze and Phillips), and when the referee fell over, he proceeded to execute El Pollo Diablo Finisher #31362: Worm Plucker, which was basically him standing on the referee's nuts. However, this enabled El Pollo Diablo to get caught in a double kick in the nads by both Daze and Phillips, whom, for once, worked together. This lasted for all of three second before they went back at each other again.

GP: These two just hate each other way too much!

JT: Well, Daze DID knock Daze out of the IWO for a while and destroyed his career...

As both men brawled in the ring, El Pollo Diablo shrugged and pulled the referee outside of the ring and into a clear space on the beach. Here, he would proceed to execute El Pollo Diablo Finishers #1-10000 on the referee's poor, abused nuts.

GP: *points at the referee who was in the middle of taking Finisher #8: The Albanian Bird Peck to the Nads* I do not want to be that man.

JT: Agreed.

Phillips gained the upper hand on Daze by landing a low blow. He went for a suplex, but Daze slipped out from behind and grabbed his head, and very much like he did at Conspiracy Theory...

GP: YES! YES! DAAAAZZEEED AND CONFUUUSED~!

The crowd exploded, feeling that this match was now over.

JT: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

GP & Crowd: ONE... TWO... THREE!!

JT: But there's no ref! Ha ha! That three count only counts when a real referee makes the count!

Just as soon as these words escape JT's lips did IWO senior referee "The Fourth Coming" Howard Christ make his way down the aisle and make his heavenly count.

GP: ANOTHER REF IS IN! ONE...!!

JT: NOOO!!!

GP: TWO!!!

JT: PLEASE, GOD, I'LL BE GOOD THIS YEAR! REALLY!

GP: THR-NO!!!

JT: YES!!!!

The fans were very disappointed, now.

GP: Phillips got his foot on the bottom rope! He's still in this match!

JT: Who the fuck chose this referee, anyway?!

Scene cuts to the backstage area, moments ago.

Tom Ford: Hmmmmm. Decisions decisions. Which one of these refferees should I send out. Should I send out "Call-it-Straight Cal" or "The Fourth Coming" Howard Christ?

We see Call-it-Straight Cal with his eyes wide open, glancing around like a caffinated squirrel. Then we see "The Fourth Coming" Howard Christ, who looked like a long-haired surfer dude on acid and he was wearing a "Fuck You" hat.

Tom Ford - Welllllllll.... Christ, get out there, slugger! I just can't resist your puppy dog frown!

We see his "puppy dog frown", which consists of him just sitting there making a expression that makes him seem as suicidal as Mankind at Wal Mart during a card table sale.

"The Fourth Coming" Howard Christ: I hate my life.

Christ walks out to the ring, while pouting, to ref the match. Call-it-Straight Cal is saddened.

Call-it-Straight Cal: *a little caffinated and twitchy* W-w-w-w-what?! Why the God man, huh huh huh? I say whhhhyyyy?! Just wanna count count count count count count count count!!!

Tom Ford: My decision, like the Psycho Jay v. Evan Levine Utter Obliteration match, was influenced only by the American Disabled Act. I have to let a handicapped person have the job over you, because frankly, we need the tax write off.

Call-it-Straight Cal: *very fast* W-w-w-hy I aughta give you the spankin' of a lifetime you fuck fuck fuckHEAD!

Tom Ford: Um... please, Cal, stop talking so fast, or I'm going to replace the coffee machine in the Reffs loungue with Vincent's semen... again.

Call-it-Straight Cal: Please, don't do that! I make love to that coffee machine! It's sad but it's true :-(

The scene cuts back to Greg Parker and JT.

GP: Okay, that was messed up.

JT: I agree.

Daze dragged Phillips to the center of the ring, and proceeded to climb up to the top rope. He went, again, for the Daze Blaze, but unfortunately for him, Daniel Phillips got the knees up.

JT: YES! YES! GO DANNY~!

GP: Daze may be in trouble! He hit very hard that time!

Phillips rolled to the outside of the ring and went under it, looking for something. After a few seconds, he pulled out a rather old, rusty, and beat up toaster, and slid it into the ring. After picking it back up again, he landed a hard blow to Daze's head with it, which busted Daze open. Phillips stood over Daze, holding that toaster.

Phillips: See this, Daze? This is the same toaster that you used to smash out my brains, eighteen months ago. YOU THINK I WOULD FORGET THIS?! No... I'd never forget. You keep running and running away from your inevitable doom... well, doom's here, and it's about to cram this fucking toaster down your fucking throat!

GP: He actually KEPT that toaster?!

JT: He's dedicated to his craft, what can I say?

Phillips positioned the toaster in the center of the ring, and proceeded to pull Daze to his feet. He then landed the very same move that put Phillips out of the IWO... on Daze. The fans erupted in boos instantly.

JT: DAZED AND CONFUUUSED~! At least, that's how YOU call it. Me, I call it "FUCK YOU, DAZE!".

GP: You're sick!

JT: Phillips with the cover! ONE... TWO...

GP: KICKOUT!!!

The fans erupted.

JT: YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!

Phillips had a bewildered look on his face, but it didn't last long, as Phillips pulled the heavily weakened Daze into the corner and went up to the top rope. He climbed up and executed a maneuver that hasn't been seen in the IWO since October 2000.

Endless Crisis. Shooting star legdrop.

Connected, much to the dismay of the crowd.

JT: ENDLESS CRIIIIIISIS~! YES YES YES YES! NOBODY KICKS OUT OF THIS MOVE~! COVER! ONE...

GP: TWO!

JT: THREE!!!!

*ding, ding, ding*

JT: YES! YES! MONEY MONEY IS MINE, BAY-BEE!!!!

Meygon: Ladies and gentlemen... the winner of this match... and NEEEEEWWWW INTERNET WRESTLING ORGANIZATION CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION... DANIEL PHILLIPS!

"One Thing" by Gravity Kills cued up again, as the fans booed relentlessly at Daniel Phillips, who was handed the Cruiserweight title belt. He held the belt up proudly, and was pelted by garbage as he did so.

JT: PRAISE ALLAH! PRAISE GOD! PRAISE BUDDHA! PRAISE ALL OF THESE FUCKING DEITIES! DANIEL PHILLIPS HAS DONE IT, BAYBEE!

GP: But it took a toaster, a knocked out offical, and a whole hell of a lot of cheating to get the job done, JT! You have to believe that if Daze hadn't have had all of those obstacles in front of him, that he'd still be champion.

JT: BULLSHIT! Danny had this match won from the ONSET. He's the man! Hell, he's the KING OF THE CRUISERWEIGHTS~!

GP: *sighs* Anyway, we've got more great IWO action, coming up next!

JT: No we don't.

We cut backstage. Or, more specifically, to a small tent set up in the sand. We see the Deadlier Sins, huddled around a small table. Jack is eating his Cocoa Puffs, while Jake and Aubrey play cards.

Aubrey: Got any fives?

Jake proudly displays two cards.

Aubrey: Uh, Jake? That's a three and the other one's a piece of cheese.

Confused, Jake pops the cheese into his mouth.

Aubrey: Your turn, I guess.

Jake: Got any fives?

Aubrey: Why do you just keep repeating the same question I ask you?

Jake: Beats me.

Aubrey: Do you even know how to play?

Jake: Ooh! Me likey play! What are we playing?

Aubrey: [Frustrated]Where have you been for the last ten minutes?

Jake: Uh... Japan?

Suddenly, Jack screams out in pain.

Jack: OW! What the hell? Something just bit my toe.

The camera pans down. We see a lobster attached to Jack's foot.

Aubrey: Oh, here. Let me get that lobster.

Jack: Nono, the lobster was there to begin with. Something bit my other foot.

The camera pans over to the left. We see a goldfish bowl. The goldfish swimming inside looks hungry.

Aubrey: Oh, it was just Jaws, the loveable goldfish whom everyone loves.

Jack: Why do we even carry this thing around with us?

Aubrey: [Shocked] Jack, that's a horrible thing to say to your best friend! Apologize to Jake immediatley!

Jack: No, I was talking about the goldfish.

Aubrey: He has a name, you know.

Jack: Who? Jake, or the goldfish?

Aubrey: The goldfis... I mean, both of them... I mean... shit, what do I mean?

Jack: Aren't you just gonna remind me that I have a match in like ten minutes?

Aubrey: Wasn't planning on it, actually.

Jack: Oh. Well, I do, you know. Have a match, that is.

Aubrey: Then shouldn't you get out to the ring?

Jack: Yeah, probably. But it's hard to tell with this kind of thing.

Aubrey: Just go get ready.

Jack: For what?

Aubrey: Your match.

Jack: What match?

Aubrey: The number one contender's match you have with Psycho Jason in ten minutes.

Jack: Oh, don't be silly. I can't possibly have a number one contender's match comming up next. Didn't I already earn my number one contender's spot?

Aubrey: Yeah, but you know, the triangle thing... remember? The shovel and all?

Jack: I'm not following you. All I know is that this Psycho Jason character is in for the thrashing of his life, and I intend to deliver such a thrashing oldskool.

Aubrey: Oldskool? What the hell are you talking about?

Jack: What the hell am I not talking about?

Aubrey: ... good point. Knock `em dead out there.

Jack: Out where? Knock who dead? What?

Aubrey: What?

Jack: No, what's on second base.

Aubrey: Who?

Jack: No, he's on first.

Jake: Got any sevens?

Aubrey: Go fish.

Jake rushes out to the ocean, fishing pole in hand. We cut back to the ringside.

World Tag Team Championship
Legion of Dairy(egg NOG & cHEESE) vs. High Flyer & ???
vs.
GP: Well fans, up next is the matchup scheduled for the World Heavyweight Tag Team Championship belts between the champions, the Legion of Dairy, and the challenger... High Flyer.

JT: And his partner Tony Davis. Just say it.

GP: Well, this match happened when High Flyer almost cost the Legion of Dairy their tag team championship straps at Conspiracy Theory, when his partner, aka Tony Davis, didn't show up. So, now, High Flyer challenges the Dairy, and maybe Davis will actually be at the arena this time.

JT: It's not an arena Greg, we're at a fucken beach.

GP: I hate you.

Meygon: This next match, is scheduled for one fall, and is for the World Tag Team Championship!

"Sellout" by Biohazard begins to play, as the fans in attendance begin their cheers.

Meygon: Introducing first, even though it disrupts the natural order of challengers first, then champions, are the tag team champions of the IWO! Weighing in tonight at a combined... fuck, I was never good with numbers. I've just got a large rack. See? LARGE! Anyway, here are the Legion of Dairy, egg NOG and cHEESE!

egg NOG and cHEESE make their way out to the ring, holding their tag team championship belts on their shoulders. They recieve cheers as they walk, before sliding in.

"Loco" by Coal Chamber cut off "Biohazard," as the fans continued their cheers.

Meygon: And their opponents... or opponent, whatever. Currently residing... doesn't that mean you're currently hailing from there? So why residing? Oh well. Hailing from Los Angeles, California, and weighing in at... what the fuck is a kilo? He's done alot of stuff and is important, here's High Flyer!

High Flyer makes his way out from the back, alone, still, holding a microphone in his hands. He quickly walks into the ring, and stares at egg NOG in the face, who is also holding a microphone.

egg NOG: So Flyer... where's your tag team partner!?!

High Flyer: I think the real question is... where's YOURS!

egg NOG looks back at cHEESE in shock, as cHEESE just stands there with a dumbfounded look on his face.

High Flyer: Crap, I thought that's supposed to work at Beach Party...

egg NOG and cHEESE double clothesline Flyer to the mat, knocking the microphone out of the ring.

**Ding, ding, ding**

GP: And here we go! I guess Flyer's going to be wrestling a handicap match!

JT: Just like any tag team match. You ever notice, that it's always one guy who gets beat up on a team forever, and then makes a "Hot tag" to someone else, who by all right should have the same trouble as his partner did since it's a two on one situation, but he just punches the other wrestlers who just like, RUN at him. It's like, "LOOK AT ME MA! I CAN RUN INTO FISTS AND FALL DOWN! AREN'T I SPECIAL!"

GP: JT?

JT: What?

GP: What did I say about talking?

Flyer is quick to his feet, as cHEESE elbows him into the gut. The Legion of Dairy send Flyer off the ropes, and as he returns, they both attempt a huge back body drop. However, it was so huge, Flyer lands on his feet behind them. Flyer runs back off to the ropes as the Legion of Dairy turn around confused, only to be met by a swift foot to the face for each man. All three men hit the mat hard, as Flyer rolls back to get to his feet before the Dairy.

As cHEESE regains his footing, Flyer rushes up to him, using cHEESE's knee to spring up and attempt to nail hi, with a vicious boot shot, but instead, cHEESE catches Flyer by his knee, and flips him backwards. Flyer lands ackwardly on his feet, but has the able mind to duck a clothesline. However, he walked right into a Urangi position from the recovering egg NOG. NOG tries to turn his body so that cHEESE can come over and help NOG hit the Sell-out, but Flyer catches NOG with a couple of swift elbow shots to the face.

GP: Flyer is fighting for his life in there right now!

JT: Well, the Legion of Dairy are tag team champions, they're used to fighting TWO people, not one...

Flyer runs off to the other side of the ropes, and returns back. egg NOG and cHEESE double leapfrog Flyer on his return, and as he comes back off the other side, cHEESE back body drops him right onto egg NOG's shoulder. egg NOG goes for a powerbomb, but Flyer hudaconrada's him to the outside of the ring. Flyer slowly gets up to his feet, only to be met with a vicious side kick from cHEESE, which sends Flyer crumpling back down to the mat.

GP: Holy crap! I can't help but wonder how Flyer's head is attached...

JT: It's still attached because if it wasn't, he'd be dead, and if he was dead, we'd have a lawsuit, and we wouldn't even be able to pay the lobster man from the Daze/Phillips match.

GP: Touche. But that withstanding, WHAT A SHOT BY cHEESE!

cHEESE picks up Flyer, and attempts to whip him into the corner, but Flyer reverses. Flyer charges, shoulder leveled, as cHEESE side steps. Flyer rams his shoulder through the middle and top rope, slamming his exposed right shoulder into the ring post on the other side. Flyer pulls himself out of the turnbuckle, before crumpling onto the mat, clutching his right shoulder.

GP: That could be the match right here!

JT: Oh come on, he hit his SHOULDER. JEEZ parker, it's not like he only has one.

cHEESE walks over to the fallen Flyer, and grabs him by his right arm. He pulls Flyer's arm up to his face level, and then snaps it back down, hoping to dislocate the joint or hurt his shoulder even more. cHEESE repeats this process three times, before picking Flyer up entirely to his feet. cHEESE then locks Flyer in an arm wrench, and walks over to his corner, tagging in the now recovered egg NOG. NOG climbs up to the top rope, and drops a double ax handle onto Flyer's area. cHEESE climbs back out onto the apron, as egg NOG locks Flyer in another arm wrench. Flyer then hammers back with a few right hands.

GP: Flyer is trying to get out of this hold. He's trying to get enough time to buy for his shoulder to heal.

egg NOG gets dazed a bit from the shots from Flyer, as Flyer tries to run off the ropes. egg NOG, however, still has the arm wrench hooked in, which causes Flyer to snap backwards, and crumple down to the mat in even more pain that he already was. His shoulder was just wrenched to the point where it could have easily been dislocated.

GP: Dear God! Flyer's attempt to get out of the pressure from the Legion of Dairy may have actually hurt him, to the point where it hurt him more than it could have POSSIBLY helped.

JT: Well, Flyer's never really been all too bright. Then again, he's a poster boy of the IWO, and we're all a bunch of fucken retards.

GP: Oh, you know you love this job little JT!

JT: Fuck like I love this job. This job has caused me to become the posterboy of virginity, coupled with the fact that even I can't remember what the hell my initials stand for.

GP: They stand for something?

egg NOG picks Flyer up by his right arm, and hammers away with shots to his shoulder. egg NOG then throws Flyer shoulder first into his corner, and tags in cHEESE.

The Legion of Dairy grab Flyer, and whip him into the opposite corner. When he's near to hitting the turnbuckle, Flyer flips forward from his momentum, and tries to hold himself in ala Shawn Michaels, but his right shoulder gives out, putting all his weight on his left and putting him on the ring apron. Flyer tries to shake off his shoulder pain, as egg NOG charges back in attempting to catch a dazed Flyer with a clothesline. Flyer however, is able to duck, and as egg NOG turns back around, Flyer hooks NOG by his head and stun guns him on the top rope.

Flyer begins climbing up the ropes, since he can't springboard like he normally would, and as cHEESE walks over, Flyer reaches the top rope and dives forward, wrapping his legs around cHEESE's head. However, cHEESE leans his body weight forward, and drives Flyer into a powerbomb, focusing the move on Flyer's right shoulder specifically. Flyer lets out a cry of pain.

GP: These two are just focusing on that shoulder, and Flyer's trying anything he can to get the ball rolling into his corner.

JT: Ha! The ball never bounces twice.

GP: ... What?

JT: You know, that... okay, I just made it up. It's hard to make things up on the air Parker. Especially to make jokes all the time.

GP: So very true.

cHEESE stays overtop for the cover.

1...

2...

Flyer's able to get his left shoulder up, but in doing so, rolled over onto his right and let out a cry of pain.

GP: Flyer is not in the good of ways.

JT: There's a good way when you have your shoulder screaming out in pain?

egg NOG returns to his corner, as cHEESE begins to pick Flyer up off the mat by his hair. cHEESE hooks Flyer in a front face lock, before wrenching the hold in further and then hooking his arm into an arm bar with his free hand. cHEESE then locked his arms, before lifting Flyer up off the mat, and driving him into the canvas with a single arm DDT, focusing all the impact on Flyer's right shoulder. Flyer rolls over onto his back, clutching at his arm in pain, as cHEESE drops on for the cover.

1...

2...

Flyer's able to get his left hand on the bottom rope. cHEESE then pulls Flyer into the center of the ring, and covers him once again.

1...

2...

This time, Flyer gets his shoulder, and again lets out another cry of pain.

Which is followed up by "Degenerate" by Blink 182.

And a large pop.

GP: There it is! The previous theme music of the other half of Team V.I.A.G.R.A., the man we were all expecting!

JT: Was there any doubt?!?

Suddenly, a man in a trenchcoat climbs into the ring, ducks his body and lifts cHEESE onto his back in a Gory Stretch position, before dropping him into the middle of the ring with a kudoh driver.

The trenchcoat man pulls his hood back, and reveals none other to be Tony Davis. He's standing there with a pepsi in his hands. Flyer gets to his feet, clutching his shoulder.

High Flyer: DUDE! A pepsi! Is that for me?

Tony Davis: It's not a pepsi, it's pepsi twist!

Davis pulls the zipper down and reveals that it says Pepsi Twist underneath.

Tony Davis: And I'm not Tony Davis, I'm...

Davis pulls off a mask.

Tony Davis: ey em kne war!!111 im hardkorr!!1111

egg NOG just stands on the apron confused, as cHEESE has now rolled out of the ring. Flyer is just as confused, staring at Ken War with a look of shock on his face.

High Flyer: Shouldn't you be dead?

Ken War: queit infldel!111 ur keeling oru heet!!1111

High Flyer: Dude, remember when you burnt my hair? That sucked! I was almost bald. ME! It took me a year to regrow that hair, a YEAR!

Ken War Sighed, before zipping down the Pepsi Twist can.

Ken War: tis isnt a pipsi twsit, tis iz a dyet pipsi tesit!!111 & im not kne war!!111..

Ken War takes off his mask, only to reveal the Mysterious One, ?¿?.

egg NOG: HEY! Mysterious One! Can I get your autograph?!?

Mysterious One: Sure! But this isn't a diet pepsi twist...

egg NOG: Crap, I wanted a pretty penny on ebay.

Mysterious One: This is a Moutain Dew! And I'm not the Mysterious One...

The Mysterious One pulls off his mask, only to reveal Joey Malone.

cHEESE: Dude, what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in New York?

egg NOG stares at cHEESE blankly, before slapping him in the face.

High Flyer: Dude! ... Mountain Dew? What the hell?

Joey Malone: It's for effect! I don't know what kind, but I can make the can disappear! See!

The Mountain Dew disappears.

High Flyer: That's just a lighting trick.

Joey Malone: Really? Let's see YOU try it Mr. I sell snow but can't defy physics even though I don't defy physics anymore FLYER!

High Flyer: Dude, did you have to say Flyer at the end? Seemed so tacked on.

Joey Malone: Oh yeah, I didn't really make that can disappear, and it's not really a mountain dew, so you can't hurt me for drinking a crappy drink... it's actually coca cola! And I'm not really Joey Malone...

JT: What the fuck is going on?

GP: I have no fucken clue.

Joey Malone pulls off his mask to reveal Dane Wilt.

Dane Wilt: Did you guys know that...

egg NOG: What, that's not really a coke, that's a something or other, and that you're not really Dane Wilt?

Dane Wilt: Well, yeah, but I was just gonna say that Phelen and I are the same guy. It's like Fight Club, all over again.

High Flyer: But what about all those times you two faced off against one another?

Dane Wilt: Oh yeah, that does sorta throw off that whole angle. Crap. Anyway, here's the next guy! And this Cola, it's not Coke...

Dane Wilt pulls off his mask, only to reveal, Rob Kestler.

Rob Kestler: It's Viagra!

Kestler takes the bottle of viagra and slams it across egg NOG's chest, which sends him flying to the outside. cHEESE stares wide eyed in shock, as Flyer pulls him in the hard way.

Then, out from the crowd races Tony Davis. He slides into the ring, as the referee just has mass confusion. Flyer hooks cHEESE, picks him up in a urgani powerbomb, as Davis hits the neckbreaker on the way down.

Viagra-Bomb.

Right into a dog pile, including Kestler.

GP: DAVIS! KESTLER?!? FLYER!!! ALL ON TOP OF cHEESE!

1...

2...

3!

*Ding, ding, ding*

Meygon: Your winners, and NEW, tag team Champions, Tony Davis, High Flyer, and... Rob Kestler? Team V.I.A.G.R.A.!

GP: Dear God! What the hell just happened!

JT: I think we're all so stupid from the Pepsi twist mock that we can't fathom what just occured!

GP: Fathom?!? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN!?!?

JT: I HAVE NO CLUE! SEE WHAT I MEAN!

High Flyer, Tony Davis, and Rob Kestler all pick up the two tag team straps, as they raise them to the crowd. The fans cheer, but some also boo, since the Legion of Dairy have a huge following, probably larger than Viagra. The three men make their way to the backstage area, as egg NOG helps cHEESE up in the ring.

No. 1 Contendership
Psycho Jay vs. Jack Breaker
vs.

GP: Whoo whoo!

JT: What do you think you are, a train?

GP: WHOO WHOO!

JT: ... *ahem*... Greg?

GP: W00T!

JT: GREG!

GP: ... What?

JT: We have a match to call.

GP: ... Oh. I thought it was happy hour. Uh... oh, okay. Up next... it's Psycho Jay and Jack Breaker taking on one another!

JT: Any stips?

Greg flips through his notes.

GP: Er... no.

JT: DAMMIT TO HELL! Is there a reason why they're wrestling each other, even?

Greg flips through his notes, again.

GP: Well, Jack Breaker eliminated Psycho Jay back when he was that masked guy from the Mayhem match... and this match is for the number one contendership for the IWO World Title.

JT: ... But isn't Breaker technically still the number one contender, as he still hasn't had an actual match with the champion?

GP: ...

Greg speaks into a microphone on his chest.

GP: We have a code green, here...

A man stands up behind JT in the crowd and bops him on the head with a mallet.

JT: ... What was I saying?

GP: You were talking about blood and injuries and stuff, JT.

JT: BLOOD! DEATH! DESTRUCTION! GEEE HA HAHAHA!

GP: Yeah, like that.

Meygon stands in the ring. She wears little. You look at her breasts... a lot. That pretty much paints a normal picture, don't it?

Meygon: The following match is one fall... DUH!... and is for the IWO's World Title #1 Contender's slot. Introducing first...

"Cyclops Rock" by They Might Be Giants plays -- and the crowd, well, doesn't react either way -- they go "mehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"... which sounds like "yehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!", so we'll just say that they are cheering the arrival of the current #1 contender to the title, yet the man who is also NOT going for that title tonight, of the Deadlier Sins....

Meygon: From New Orleans... one-half of the Deadlier Sins... the Mayhem Match 2002 winner... he is JACK BREAKER!

Breaker makes his way down the aisle, getting into the ring and posing for the fans. They loudly scream "mehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

Meygon: His opponent...

"Raining Blood" by Slayer plays. The crowd cheers, definitely. It's a wonder, too, considering that this man has gone from their hero to their villian, back and forth, constantly. He is a rebel. A self-supported psycho... which is why his now-legendary name begins with the word.

Meygon: From South Philidelphia, Pennsylvania... the former two-time IWO World champ... the man accompanied by Vincent, the only man that's filled me up!... uh... *ahem* he is PSYCHO JAY!

Jay walks out, and down the aisle, Vincent walking beside him.

Vincent: ASS-FUCKING LOUD CUNTLICKING CROWD.

Jay gets into the ring, walks up to Breaker... and stares him right in the eyes. Vincent stands on the outside.

Vincent: SHIT.

As Jay goes to a corner to stretch a little bit, Breaker kicks him in the small of the back, sending Jay to his knees. Breaker proceeds to grab Jay by the throat, and sends him down to the mat by dropping down onto his stomach. Breaker immediately gets to his knees and drops a boot onto Jay's forehead. He takes a step back and drops an elbow, too. Getting back to his feet, Breaker props himself onto the second turnbuckle, and throws his body in a senton splash, flying towards Jay with all his weight.

GP: Good senton from Jack Breaker. He's taking Jay down pretty early.

JT: Bah. Jay'll get up and hurt him. Hurt him badly.

Which manages to spread out as his back struck the ring mat, thanks to Jay's quick roll. Jay, getting to his feet, runs over and grabs Breaker by his long Louisiana hair and shoves him down towards his crotch... but stops. Instead, he slams him with his forearm, sending Breaker falling onto his side. Jay sweeps a foot up in the air, and brings it down onto Breaker. From there, he grabs the man's hair, pulling him to his feet, and tosses him into the ropes. Breaker finds himself flung, and heading back quickly, into a world of trouble. Jay connects with a swift clothesline that sends Breaker's body ripping through the air, landing him against the ropes upside down.

GP: SWEET JESUS!

JT: YEAH HA HA! WHOOOOO! THAT'S A HIT!

GP: Is Breaker ALIVE? That was the type of clothesline that's damned by the church!

Jay runs into the ropes himself immediately after, and comes straight at Breaker. He jumps, going for a dropkick straight into Breaker's abdomen.

JT: Oh, c'mon, SPLIT THE BODY APART!

Breaker slips his body off the ropes.

JT: AHHHHHHHHHHH!

And Jay goes flying out of the ring, the back of his head whacking the ring apron, twisting his body foreward and onto the floor. Blood drips from the back of his head, and splats as he flings his head up in the air, splashing on the apron and the edge of the mat.

JT: BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!... On Jay. NO. Urgh.

GP: Uh... someone could want to stop this match.

Jay doesn't really notice though. When he gets on the apron, however, Breaker is there, waiting for him. A dropkick from Breaker sends Jay flying back again, slamming his head against the thinly veiled "gymnastics crash mats" that the IWO uses for safety of their wrestlers.

GP: Jay going back down, the hard way. Breaker's got major control, and he's damn sure using it.

JT: Oh, this hemmhorage on the back of Jay's head is just a minor inconvenience. Just a scratch.

GP: He's become a redhead, JT! A FRIGGIN' REDHEAD!

JT: So? Redheads are awesome in bed.

GP: Yeah, we all know you love those Irish guys.

JT: Yup... HEY, WAIT A DAMN MINUTE! TAKE THAT BACK!

Breaker jumps to the outside, and grabs Jay by the head, getting him up to his knees. He notices the blood at this moment, and steps away for a second.

Not smart. Jay gives him one swift punch in the balls, launches himself up to his feet, grabs Breaker by the head, spins him around once, and throws him at full-speed into the ring steps. Breaker and the steps themselves scatter like mice away from a tabby cat, the clang and smash of steel hitting overpowering the thump of Breaker's back hitting those same mats Jay had just hit twice in quick succession.

JT: CARRRRRRRRRRRRRRNAGE! Whee!

GP: Psycho Jay turning the tide now, and Breaker's probably been knocked unconscious from that toss.

Jay, blood staining his back, walks over to the steps. He picks one up, tosses it to the side, picks up another one, and tosses it into the ring.

GP: What's he planning here?

JT: More pain, Greg. C'mon, what else would you expect from a pro wrestler with the name PSYCHO?

GP: I dunno... a strait jacket? Maybe a teddy bear that he talks to constantly, whispering things like "kill them...? OKAY!"

JT: ... What the fuck, Greg. What the fuck.

GP: Er... uh... Jay taking Breaker by the hair...

He takes Breaker, and throws him into the ring, too. Rolling in after him, not minding the blood, Jay takes the half of the steel steps he tossed in and sets it up in the corner. Breaker is getting to his feet; Jay boots him in the forehead to keep him down. He picks Breaker up, though, right afterwards, and lays his jaw against the edge of the steel steps.

JT: Hey, this kinda reminds me of that scene in American History X...

GP: There's been ten American History movies?

JT: NO!

GP: LIAR! I'M SURE THERE HAVE! DON'T CONDESCEND THE PLAY-BY-PLAY MAN! Anyway, Jay setting up a vicious move...

Jay then begins to climb onto the second rope, balancing himself, his hands gripping the top rope. He begins to push the ropes up and down, giving himself some momentum. Up, down. With more speed, and less control. On an upswing, he goes flying up in the air. The crowd's captivated, as he seems to fly for several long, tumultuous moments.

His foot comes down hitting only steel, sending him tumbling backwards onto the mat.

GP: OH! OW! JEEZ!

In the streets, they call what Jay attempted to do 'curbing'. I guess it might be called 'stepping' in this case, but does it matter? Breaker, crawling away from the fallen Jay, is looking for a way out of this. He almost had his jaw broken off his face by a man.

Breaker gets to the ropes, and begins to pull himself up. Jay is stumbling to his feet, the puddle of blood tiny but inmistakable. Breaker, looking around the ring, notices the blood. It's a drip-drip trail, like breadcrumbs behind Hansel and Gretel. In a few slight and obscure spots from his vantage point, there's puddles of the stuff. Breaker looks at the rising Jay.

GP: This is a plain-out fight, ladies and gentlemen.

JT: Really fun to watch, too. I wish I had a big 'ol meat-lover's pizza.

GP: We all know about you and sausagefests, JT.

JT: I really love those sausages!

GP: Especially Irish ones.

JT: ... OH! HEY! THAT'S NOT RIGHT! DAMN YOU, PARKER!

He runs forward.

And spears the man over the steps, into the turnbuckle.

GP: WHAT A SPEAR! RIGHT OVER THE STEEL STEPS, AND JAY JUST WHACKED HIS BODY AGAINST THE CORNER OF THE RING!

JT: Are you going to apologize for those gay jokes, Parker?

GP: Hell no!

The two of them tumble into the narrow space between the stairs and the ring apron, and begin to fight like a pair of drunkards who argued over a misplaced shot in a pool game. Smacks of skin, backed by thick muscles, fill this tiny space.

GP: Now it's most definitely a fight. Just two men, going back and forth. And the referee hasn't done a damn thing this whole match!

JT: Where is the guy, anyway? Out on a smoke break?

GP: He's sitting there in the corner, JT.

JT: ... Oh.

The referee waves at JT... that way.

JT: Er.... hi, Robbie.

GP: ... Oh good lord. Is this why you've never been able to get women?

JT: Oh, trust me, I like women.

GP: You're just desperate.

JT: No...

GP: So you swing both ways?

JT: I was DRUNK!

Breaker is on top, but does he have the advantage? The answer seems to be probably, as he takes swing after swing and sends them down into the skinny space, where practically no one can see the results.

He's pushed up and over the steps, landing on his back himself. He rolls backwards, getting to his feet quickly. Jay pulls himself upwards, tugging on the ropes, getting up onto the top rope.

Breaker jumps onto the steps, and pulls himself onto the top rope, balancing next to Jay.

GP: Woah! Talk about jumping power and balance from Jack Breaker.

Breaker balances like an astronaut in a spacewalk. He slides up next to Jay, catching him with a sock into the stomach. Now, to attempt the impossible. Taking the bloody head of his opponent and hooking his arm around it, Breaker throws himself up into the air -- the ultimate act of craziness, as who knows where they'd fall if there was a single slip -- but he didn't slip.

GP: IN THE NAME OF GOD! WHAT A MOVE! FROM THE TOP... CLOCKWORK DDT!

He brought Jay down, hard. With the Clockwork DDT, Jay was laid out. Flatlined, if you will.

And Breaker rolled him over, and covered him. This was it.


GP: BREAKER BEAT JAY!

JT: SON OF A BITCH!

It was over. Breaker retained the number one contender's spot in the IWO, he would face whoever the hell came out of the Life, Death, and Endurance match later on. He'd beaten a legend, and would get the chance to battle another one, no matter who was the winner of the main event tonight. He could get his name up there. In the bright lights. Soon.


Contract Match
Rob Kestler vs. Nuke
vs.
GP: We've got a whop-dinger of a match for you next, folks. Rob Kestler is going to be taking on Nuke. This match has some interesting stipulations. If Kestler wins, Nuke's contract is terminated. But if Nuke wins, his suspension is lifted, and he'll receive a title shot the following week.

JT: Oh, like it's even possible that Kestler will win. C'mon, he hasn't won a match in like five forevers.

GP: Five forevers? What the hell are you talking about, JT?

JT: I'm talking about how the MAN is always trying to keep Nuke down, but we're not going to take it anymore.

GP: Who's we?

JT: Well, me and ... Nuke ... and homeless people.

GP: Homeless people?

JT: Sammiches!

GP: …OK, JT, give me the crack.

JT: Awww, alright.

JT hands over his crack to Greg Parker.

GP: Haha! Somebody's getting funked up tonight!

JT: Isn't there supposed to be a match going on or some boring crap like that?

GP: Quite right, old boy. Let's get to Meygon, who is hopefully not on crack, but coke.

Meygon is in the ring, COKED OUT OF HER MIND~! At least, that's what I assume. But then again, I assume that about everyone. Including you, you dirty coke-sniffer. I'm on to you, and you better hope you don't piss me off, or I might just let something slip to old Johnny Law, if you catch my drift. Bitch.

Meygon : The following contest is set for one fall, and is for the win stipulations that Greg Parker already mentioned and I'm too lazy to reiterate. Introducing first ... he hails from Hollis, Queens, New York ... weighing in at 243 lbs. and standing 6'4" tall ... he's won a bunch of belts, but not with the usual "and stuff" ... he claims to use an innovative "midget Nuke" wrestling style, and his real name is "Dead Wrong" by Biggie Smalls ... I like to make fun of mistakes people have on their roster pages ... he is the "Innovator of Wrongness," NNNUUUUKKKKEEEE!!!!

"Dead Wrong" by Biggie Smalls plays as Nuke steps out from the back, immediately flicking off the fans before they even have a chance to boo him, which they of course do. He runs down to the ring and slides in, then glares all around him as he waits for Robbie Poo to come out.

Meygon : And next ... he hails from Minneapolis, MN ... weighing 313 lbs. and standing 6'6" tall ... a former World champion, plus some other belts, all of which are shiny ... born sometime in the last 20 to 40 years ... he is the owner of the Psychic Porn 'N' Go, RRRRROOOOOBBBBB KKEEESSSTTTTLLLLEEERRRR!!!

"Mope" by the Bloodhound Gang plays and the fans erupt in cheers as the IWO's original village idiot (and the much better one, too ... yeah, suck on that, Malone~!) stumbles out from the back. He grins broadly for no apparent reason and walks down the ramp, rolling into the ring upon getting there and standing back up. The bell rings to start the match, causing Rob to jump in surprise and look very confused. This look of confusion is quickly wiped off his face, however, when he's run over with a clothesline by Nuke.

GP: Nuke starts this match out right with an impressive lariat.

JT: Nuke starts every match out right. The match is right just by Nuke being in it. If the match was any more right, then it would be wrong, and therefore Nuke would not be in it, because every match is right with him in it, so-

GP: JT, shut up.

JT: Okey-doke.

Rob gets back to his feet, looking like his feelings are hurt.

Rob : You're mean!

Nuke : Mmmm ... yeah.

Nuke follows this comment up by booting Kestler in the gut and giving him a Rocker Dropper. Nuke then pulls Kestler up into Nobody Loves You (multiple knee strikes to the face). After about ten knees, Nuke lets Kestler drop to the ground.

GP: This is almost painful to watch.

JT: Hmm, yeah, if you change "painful" to "fun" and "almost" to "orgasmically."

GP: That I did not need to hear.

JT: No you didn't.

Nuke waits for Rob to stand up and runs with a running dropkick to the jaw, but Rob bends over at the last second to pick up a penny that he sees on the mat, despite the fact that there aren't any pennies anywhere in the ring, and Nuke's dropkick sails over his head. The Innovator of Wrongness lands hard on his back as Rob stands back up, happily tucking the invisible penny into his tights.

JT: Damn his stupidity!

Rob walks over to Nuke as he's getting to his feet and grabs him in a side headlock. He then begins tickling Nuke under his chin.

GP: My God! It's the dreaded Tallahassee Double Reverse Inverted Upside-Down Poundcake Surprise! I haven't seen that move performed in at least three days, but it looks as devastating as ever!

JT: But ... he's tickling him.

GP: And with what ferocity! I don't know how much Nuke can endure the pain before tapping out! I really don't!

JT: ...Am I the only one that's confused here?

Confused Bob : Yes. Even I'm not confused.

JT: Damn you, Confused Bob! DAAAAAMMMMMMNNNNN YYYYYOOOOOUUUUUU!!!

Man, and the sad thing is the match writer's not even high. Nuke struggles to get to the ropes, but Rob pulls him back towards the center of the ring. Finally, Nuke just elbows Rob in the gut, then sweeps his legs out from under him.

GP: What a counter! I don't think I've ever seen anything like that in all my years of commentating!

JT: You've never seen a leg sweep?

GP: Well ... um ... not in this match I haven't! An unprecedented first for this match!

Nuke backs up, and when Rob stand up the twisted psycho runs and executes the Silent Screams (somersault DDT), except that Rob was able to grab the much lighter Nuke as he grabbed Rob's head for the DDT, hold him in the air for a moment, and slam him back down to the canvas with velocity. So I guess Nuke didn't really execute the Silent Screams very well at all, then. Loser.

JT: Is the teleprompter supposed to make fun of the wrestlers like that?

GP: Probably not, but whenever we try to remonstrate it, it just blows cigarette smoke in our faces and then steals office supplies.

JT: I blame the schools.

Rob drops a big midget-loving elbow across Nuke's sternum, causing Nuke to roll around in pain as he tries to get back to his feet. Rob grabs him and tosses him into the ropes, then bounces off the others side himself and decimates Nuke as they meet in the middle of the ring with a big boot.

GP: Rob is using his power advantage to his advantage here.

JT: Really, Greg? He's using his power advantage to his advantage? Wow, that's amazing, cause I would've thought he'd use his power ADVANTAGE to his disadvantage.

GP: Well ... um ... why'd you think that?

JT: (Sigh) I thought I was supposed to be the stupid one.

GP: Yeah, whatever happened to that?

Nuke gets back to his feet and leans against the ring rope for support. Rob comes in to clothesline him over the top rope, but Nuke ducks down and back body drops Rob to the outside of the ring. Rob gets back to his feet, and Nuke leaps over the top with a piscado. Rob catches him in midair, though, and prepares to deliver a fallaway slam, until Nuke pokes him in the eye, causing Rob to drop him.

JT: Ha! Brilliantly daring strategy by Nuke!

GP: Poking him in the eye was brilliantly daring?

JT: Yes.

GP: Who'da thunk it?

Rob staggers around trying to clear his eyes, and Nuke follows up by coming up from behind and delivering a Russian leg sweep onto the steel ramp. Nuke climbs on top of Rob and begins pummeling his face, but soon Rob is able to block a punch and deliver a headbutt to Nuke's face. Rob then takes Nuke by the hair and slams him facefirst into the steel ramp. Rob pushes Nuke off him so he can stand up and start stomping Nuke's back.

GP: Whoa! Rob is showing a bit of a mean streak here!

JT: Ehh, he's probably just forgotten that he's supposed to be nice.

Rob finally pulls Nuke up and slings him into the barrier between the fans and the ringside area, but Nuke puts his foot up and pushes off the barrier, using it to do a backflip onto Rob ... where he gets caught on Rob's shoulder. Kestler runs and tries to toss Nuke into a corner post on the outside of the ring, but Nuke slips off his shoulder at the last second and shoves Rob into it. As Rob stumbles backwards, Nuke kicks his legs out from underneath him, falling with an elbow drop across the throat in the same motion. Nuke now picks Kestler up and rolls him into the ring.

JT: Has "sammiches" already been said this match?

GP: Yes. You said it.

JT: Awww...

Nuke climbs up onto the apron, and from there to the top rope. He measures Rob, then leaps for the Nuclear Holocaust (corkscrew diving headbutt from the top rope), but Rob rolls out of the way at the last second.

JT: Oooh! Nothing but net!

GP: Um ... you do realize that Nuke missed, right? And that this is not basketball.

JT: Sure, that's what they WANT you to think.

Both Rob and Nuke stagger to their feet at about the same time. Rob stretches for no apparent reason and turns to look around for Nuke. His outstretched arm smacks Nuke across the face and knocks him down.

GP: That's BAM! (Accidentally hitting opponent) It's the set-up move for the Call From Beyond!

JT: ...What the hell kind of set-up move is that?!

Rob, realizing that he has inadvertently hit his set-up move, picks Nuke up and hooks his arms for his double underhook piledriver.

JT: You know, both these guys have the same finisher. What a coinky-dink!

GP: JT, half of the wrestlers that have ever been in the IWO have the double underhook piledriver as their finisher. It's the most redundant finisher ever.

Mad Max : REDUNDANT!

GP: Er, thank you, Max. Although in all fairness to Kestler, when he started doing it, it was still original.

Rob lifts Nuke for the Call From Beyond and hits it.

JT: What?! Nuke can't lose!

1...

2...

GP: Nuke gets the shoulder up at the last second! I don't believe it! How could he have kicked out of that?!

JT: You know, I'm really getting tired of saying it, so from now on whenever you ask a question in a Nuke match, answer it with, "Because he's Nuke."

GP: Gotcha.

Rob, scarcely believing that Nuke kicked out of his most devastating move (although considering that he can scarcely believe that the sky is blue and that flashlights aren't magic wands that he alone can control, that's not saying a whole lot), picks Nuke back up and again hooks his arms for his finisher. This time, however, Nuke slips one of his arms free and low blows Rob.

GP: How could you not see that, ref? Are you blind?!

JT: Grrreeeggg, you know he is.

GP: ...Oh yeah. Why the hell did we hire a blind referee anyway?

JT: I dunno, something about we'd be breaking a discrimination in the workplace law or some crap like that.

GP: Damn it, sometimes those equal rights hippies go too far! Like when they allowed the Irish to get jobs!

JT: Greg, I really think you might have some racism issues to work out-

GP: You shut your dirty wop face!

JT: Um, I'm not Italian.

GP: ...I need help.

JT: Boy howdy!

Nuke grabs Rob by the head and nails Paranioa (implant DDT). He covers, and the ref's seeing eye dog alerts him to the cover.

1...

2...

GP: Rob barely manages to kick out!

JT: Oh man, Nuke's getting mad! You can tell by the way that his nostrils are flaring.

GP: Yeah, and the fact that he's unloading a string of curse words punctuated by the occasional "I'M MAD!"

JT: Yeah, that too.

Nuke rolls to the outside of the ring and grabs a chair. He slides back in and waits for Rob to get back up. When he does so, Nuke cracks him with such force that the chair's seat pops out of alignment to be near perpendicular with the position it's supposed to be in.

JT: Holy hell!

Nuke tosses the chair away, then kicks the seeing eye dog in the face, as it was trying to alert the referee to what was going on. Nuke covers Rob, telling the ref to make the count.

1...

2...

3!

GP: Oh! That damn Nuke! Why is he such an evil bastard?!

JT: Ahem. Please refer to the previous answer I gave you to all questions you might ask in this match.

GP: ...Oh yeah.

Meygon : Your winner, and receiving an IWO World title shot next week on Hostile Takeover ... NNNUUUUKKKEEE!!!

There was Schitzo Tod, walking towards his last IWO match. The last of two years worth of matches. But you know... Tod seemed happy knowing it was almost over. This whole facade was a step closer to completion.

Tod was on a high. That is, until he passed by the World Champion's dressing room.

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 was afraid. Afraid of wrestling. Afraid of Rashard Clark. Afraid of everything.

No... Snap out of it. Soon it will be all over.

Action vs. IWO
Simon Seaman vs. Schitzo Tod
vs.

"Date Rape" by Sublime hit. The fans went nuts. Schitzo Tod wasn't just popular because he was put over to be popular. Tod is popular because he is considered to be the next Rob Kestler. Tod is, in fact, a Mad Max/Rob Kestler hybrid, but that's beside the point.

You know, many people look at Tod as a moron. His appearance, mainly. Tod's philophosy "Laughter is the best medicine." Okay, so maybe that's not Tod's EXACT philophosy, but it's something like it. In a world ruled by seriousness, does it hurt to make a few people laugh? In Tod's case, it does.

Syphon Fission ripped Tod apart.

But enough about Tod, there's someone else involved in this match.

"Relax" by Powerman 5000 starts up.

Speak of devil. Well, not really.

Here comes Simon Seaman. The man who was stripped of his title by "Schitzo Tod." Seamon had one thing on his mind, and that was revenge. All Seamon wants, all he needs, is a chance to end Tod's career...

In essance, he is.

Wham, bam, thank you mam. That's what this match is to Seaman. That's exactly what he's thinking as the two lock up. Seaman throws Tod into the ropes, then follows up with a clothesline. No problem, no troubles, no worries.

Seaman pulls Tod up by the hair, then spits in his face. He kicks Tod in the stomach, who doubles over. Seaman then follows that up with a DDT.

All too easy.

Again, Seaman picks Tod up by the hair. This is the part where Tod is supposed to TAM Seaman, and win... Right? Wrong.

Seaman's always hated that move.

WHAM! KICK TO THE SHIN!

Nothing. Seaman just stands there.

Again, TAM.

Still, nothing. It's all futile. Tod knows, at this point, he can't go on.

Seaman with the Dragon Suplex.

One... Two... Three...

It's over. Tod is over. Not hurt, but himiliated.

You all thought he'd bounce back.

You all thought he'd win.

You all wanted a happy ending.

You got this.

Meygon: Your winner, Simon Seaman!!!

The Raging Climax

So, you are still here, watching this all as it unfolds.

You have scene the ups and downs.

The moments that made you proud.

The moments that made you sick.

You think that this match will be typical ending.

How wrong you are.

If you know anything from this, it's that you can not predict the next move.

This is where it all comes together.

Still think you have seen it all?

I don't think so.

Watch two men fight for everything, and nothing.

Watch their frustration.

Watch their glory.

Welcome to the end of the road my friends.

Welcome to Life, Death, Endurance III.


Match Promo

The song? The words were implanted on the screen. Bold, white, like from the scene of the beginning of a movie.

"Survival is not an option."

It fades, only to be replaced.

"It is a necessity."

Pictures promo pictures of the first Life, Death, Endurance match participants, Joey Malone and Donnie Daze appear, in black, white and faded rather bad. Promo pictures of Kent Anthason and Joey Malone, the two participants in the second Life, Death Endurance, appear in color, but the picture is grainy and faded. They fade.

"Old gimmick matches.
Violent.
Surreal."

Shots of the first Life, Death, and Endurance is shown. We see Donnie Daze hitting Malone with Dazed and Confused, followed by Joey Malone hitting a Bad Moon Rising on Donnie Daze. We see Malone with the chairshot dropkick on Daze, then taking a Further Paralysis off the Sesame Street staircase and through Big Bird's bird's nest.

"It was all for you.
All for the fans."

We see Joey hitting parts of the Mad Cow Disease on Daze. We see Joey Malone hitting a Jerkerolizer through a table. We see Daze breaking a computer monitor over Malone's head, followed up by hitting the Floridian Facebuster off the top rope, and through a table on the floor. We see Joey Malone taking an inverted DDT through a table, but coming back to hit the ADD into explosives. We see the Fated Hurricane from an interfering Daniel Phillips and Joey Malone on Daze. We see the Everest Cataclysm, which tied the iron man.

"You stood in amazement, not believing what you saw."

We see the Arizona Firewater double cage coming down to the ring area, we see a sick see-saw facerake by Malone on Daze. We see various weapons. We see Smokey the Bear making a run-in. Malone misses the Bad Moon Rising. Malone and Daze crash through the roof of the cage. Donnie Daze hits a corkscrew body press on a Malone that's hanging from the roof the cell. We see Daze crashing through the roof of the cage and hitting one of the floating mines. We see Daze hitting the Dazed and Confused, and Malone kicking out. Malone hitting the Cataclysm and getting a two count. We see Malone hitting a second Cataclysm, and scoring the
win.

"Whether it was enemy, or friend, you gawked.
Gawked in sheer amazement."

We see Malone hitting Anthason with Samuel Potright's War Within In A Breath move. We see Anthason hit the Tornado Tremor(jumping roundhouse kick) into a chair and into Malone. We see Malone hit the Arizona Death Drop on Anthason through a truck. We see Malone hitting Anthason with a Negative Impulse (Diamond Dust with Tomikaze Ending) on top of a trash can. We see Anthason his Malone with the Death Plunge and getting closer to tying Malone in the score.

"You people wanted your violence, and you got it. These men put their lives on the line to justify the money you spent."

We see Malone pain as Anthason is up on a balcony. Hitting the Double Helix(Corkscrew Somersault Splash) on Malone off the balcony. We see the ref count. We see Malone hit a missile dropkick to Anthason, who falls but grabs onto a box, and gains a fall in the interval. We see Malone grab a box to tie it all up again. We see Malone reach up and grab a hold of one of the rings, forcing the ladder to teeter and fall over. Malone hangs on and unhooks a box with one of his arms, taking back the lead.

"No matter how crazy it was, or how sick it made you. All that mattered was the match. Your life didn't seem as hard compared to this. This pure Hell."

We see Anthason move Joey onto an announce table, and drill him through it with his patented move Malediction(Inverted Clinching Slam), tying the score at five all. We see Malone wobbly as all hell, with Anthason picking him back up and go for his Sweet Serenity, drilling him through a table. Anthason now had a six to five lead. We see Anthason go for a backslide, but Malone picks him up out of it. He tries to Cataclysm him from that position, but Anthason flips through it, causing Malone to go for a knee lift. Malone then hits Anthason with an Everest Cataclysm(double underhook inverted emerald fusion) through a flaming table tying the match yet again.

"And even when the bad blood spilt into overtime. You still didn't want the carnage to stop."

We see the highlights of the first ever Office Building Blowout. The ending. We see Fission shove Malone through the door at the exact same time Anthason runs through it, causing the tie breaker to end in a tie. Ironic. We see the Tower of Torment. The massive structure. We see the highlights.

"The endings always shocked you."

We see the ending to the second Life, Death, Endurance in real time.

GP: He might just! He's climbing the final ladder! But Anthason's crawling to the ladder's side! He's going for one last ditch effort! He shoves the ladder over! MY GOD! MY GOD! MALONE FELL INTO LINDUM! HOLY SHIT!!!

JT: KERI LINDUM FELL OVER THE EDGE! A SEVENTY FOOT DROP!

(...)

(...)

GP: HEY, WAIT! MALONE GRABBED KERI BEFORE SHE FELL! SHE'S HANGING OVER THE EDGE!

Nikki: Malone just saved Keri Lindum's LIFE right there! But he can't pull her up! Anthason's pulling the ladder back up!

Joey Malone: Don't fall on me now!

(All Keri can do is scream in fear at this point. She uses her other hand to grab Joey's hand.)

GP: Anthason is climbing up the ladder, but Malone doesn't even care at this point! He's trying to save his girlfriend!

JT: Anthason's almost there! Malone is just now pulling Keri back up with all of the strength he can muster! Anthason... ANTHASON HAS THE TITLE! MY GOD! ANTHASON GRABBED THE TITLE JUST AS IT TEETERS OVER!
IT'S OVER! IT'S OVER!


"It has always been about the spectacle. Whenever you say it, you applauded."

The song faded. The pictures of Malone and Anthason's victories in the matches, respectively, fade away. The letters were replaced.

"Tonight, we revisit this Hell. Only this time, it is for more then a title.

The scene fades to a picture of Fission, after Malone cuffed him to the ring ropes and totally massacred his face, twisted into a smile. It is on the left side of the screen. On the other side, is a picture of Joey Malone after Malone/Fission III, bloody, broken, and helpless. The scene fades to black, and we see the ending words to the promo for one of the most anticipated endings in the history of this industry.

"Life... Death... and Endurance...
The psychopath.
The hero.
One title, four intervals, and sixty minutes...
You can live.
You can die.
Do you have the endurance?


Life, Death, Endurance III
IWO World Heavyweight Championship Match
Syphon Fission -C- vs. Joey Malone
vs.

We get a look at the inside of Madison Square Garden. The neutral sight for this, the third installment of Life, Death, and Endurance. The place is more then packed. It is over flowing. People are standing up on in the rows. It didn't matter where you came from. You sat there, and expected your ending. The heroes victory.

The ring was that of the IWO. It had blue ropes, and the IWO shield in the middle of it, and on the aprons. The flaming letters were on each turnbuckle. The entrance to the ring was Action! Wrestling equipment. Action! Wrestling had all the state of the art equipment, cameras, pyrotechnics, the whole works. The huge video screen now had faded from the promo video, and now had a score board, With the name Fission on top, and Malone on the bottom. On the left side, along the video screen, was a current shot of Fission, not the Action! photo used to hype events. On the right side of the video screen was a huge picture of Joey Malone. The top part of the video
screen had an Action!/IWO logo.

Greg Parker and JT of the IWO announce crew were there to call play by play. There was a man, black suit and tie, in the middle of the ring, ready to do the entrances. He went over the intervals of the match. When the announcement was made over the PA, people brought out materials for the matches.

The first of the four intervals would be a Street Fight. Falls count anywhere, no disqualification.
The second of the four intervals would be Gladiator Match, where Malone and Fission have to do battle with four other wrestlers, knock them out of the ring, and resume brawling.
The third of the four intervals would be a ladder match. Ladders, tables, you name it, it was all legal.
The final interval would be a Last Man Standing match. No rules. You have to knock your opponent down for a twenty count.

The fans were ready. Everyone was ready. That's when it hit.

"Shame" by BT.

The fans exploded, as the theme music of Joey Malone blared out of the Madison Square Garden PA system, sending the fans on their feet in anticipation for his arrival.

He stepped out through the curtains and the fans cheered more and more heavily, sending the noise level at a fever pitch. The loudness inside the arena was over one hundred decibels for sure. You could probably hear the reaction even if you turned your TV off. It was that loud.

Malone was perhaps totally oblivious to the noise level, as his eyes and his mind were focused at the task at hand -- beating Syphon Fission. He entered the ring and climbed a turnbuckle, raising his arms to the crowd and received a tremendous ovation in the process. He was ready.

He began stretching in the ring, the fans totally behind him.

Dumb Waiters by the Mars Volta overtook Shame.

At the first notes of the song, the crowd began booing with the same resolve that they were giving Malone. The song kept going, and going, and going. Fission was not coming out, making the fans boo even louder.

Exactly thirty seven seconds into the song, That's when the massive explosion of multiple fireworks shooting into the sky of Madison Square Garden snapped everyone back into reality. The lights were out in the massive complex, and the multi-colored strobe lights blanketed the entire arena.

The fans knew that his presence was going to come. Instead, the strobe lights gather around a grinning Syphon Fission, who stood before the fans with all his glory. The boos, the hisses, the "YOU FUCKING SUCK" chants. He absorbed it all into his shell of a body.

In his left hand he carried Payback, the shovel. Around his waist was the IWO World Heavyweight Championship. And soon, Keri Lindum joined him as spoils of victory. She wore a black mini skirt, and a black halter top. She came out, her eyes staring at the ground, cuffed life she was a prisoner.

The shovel brought a reign of terror to Action Wrestling. The IWO World Title brought the Unbeatable Champion element into play, something that made Fission even more dangerous. And Keri was the prize that both men strived for.

As spit, trash, and other items came raining down on him, Fission just kept smiling. He walked to the ring like an executioner coming to behead his victim. Going around the ring, Fission laid the shovel against the corner of the ring. It sat there in picturesque fashion. Fission walked over to the announcers and took off the IWO World Title. As he lifted it, the lights came on.

That's when we saw just how much this war had done to Fission. His hair was long and dark blue. His face was scared, the scar over his eye unable to heal properly However, he begged them to do it. That's how it was the entire time. Fission's that was given to him by Keri Lindum hadn't healed properly. His skin was paler then the usual tan he would have. His face was full of stubble, his eyes blood shot. War is ugly, and the number one contender for the Action! Championship made sure that he would emphasis the point. Fission rolled into the ring, and got up at once to stare down his nemesis.

Joey's hair was longer then ever before, his body much more fit, and his body ready to endure his third Life, Death, Endurance match. He was the seasoned veteran in this type of match. It was his invention. And he had history on his side. The champions never walked out of the match as a victor. But, Fission was different from Donnie Daze and Kent Anthason. Both of those men never could dream of the offensive firepower of Syphon Fission. Malone would have to think more then just throw himself into a fight. Nobody could beat the man if he was willing to throw himself at a monsters onslaught. Keri paced around the ring. She would be the only fan of Malone's that mattered.

The bell rang. The war to end all wars began.

And just like that, the two were on top of each other, hitting rights and lefts of each other's skulls. The fans roared in approval, as Fission was losing to the quicker fists of Malone. Fission was forced to back pedal, but Malone charged and speared him to the mat. He mounted Fission and began punching as much as he could.

The fans were ecstatic.

Malone used this chance to choke Fission. It was very uncharacteristic, but in this type of match, you do what you need to do. It is all about surviving.

Malone went to the top rope, and mounted Fission, and landed a perfect elbow drop from the top rope right across his chest. Fission was getting pummeled early on. However, he was not going to put that much of a fight up right now. He was more or less going through the motions as Malone expended his energy to weaken Fission and gain the psychological advantage.

Malone was laying waste to his adversary with an assortment of kicks to the solar plexus, and to the rest of the upper body. He was going to make life hard on his opponent, who was lifeless at this conjuncture.

Fission tried to get on his hands and knees, but as he did Malone soccer kicked his stomach, forcing the beast to hit the mat and grab it. He kicked his arms up and down to get his mind off the pain, but it did no good. Malone was taking to picking up Fission.

The beast responded by grabbing Malone by his long locks of hair and dragging him to the ring ropes, where in brute strength he attempted to throw Malone over. As he did, Malone grabbed his arm, forcing Fission to tumble out as well. The fight had been maybe two minutes old into the first interval, but they were finally taking this to the outside.

Fission got up first, and picked Malone. He attempted to irish whip the former Village Idiot into the guardrail, but Malone reversed and used all of Fission's momentum to throw him into the railing, causing it to come unrooted by the body of Syphon. Malone followed it up with a hard clothesline that sent Fission to the outside of the railing.

Malone and his fans went apeshit. Literally. He was now uncharacteristically "jacked up" for this match, raising his arms and yelling. The fans were eating it up. The good guy was pummeling Fission, who had yet to hit a true move in this match.

Malone jumped the guardrail and caught Fission trying to get up. When Fission had his head down, looking at the ground, he grabbed him and DDTed his head to the unforgiving floor of the Garden. Malone grabbed Fission's head and locked him into a Crippler Crossface, and put all the strength he could as he pulled back. Fission didn't yell or even resist. The referee was outside now, checking and seeing if Fission was going to tap.

Fission wouldn't do something like that. He might give up a pin, but he would never submit in this match.

Malone's legs were hooked around his left arm. Fission, using his strength advantage, lifted Malone up with his arm and dumped him over. Malone broke the hold quickly, and before he knew it, Fission was making his way back into the ring.

He was too cowardice to even fight Malone.

Malone was recovering for a couple of seconds, then got up and chased Fission into the ring.

The two were now in the ring, with Fission trying to walk away from Malone, causing the fire in Joey to get much more hotter. Malone was getting rather annoyed by Fission's avoidance of him.

He turned Fission around and began landing lefts on his face, allowing his right fist to punch into his body. Fission didn't react, and was starting to bleed a little bit in his mouth.

Malone saw his chance to grab an early advantage. He wasn't going to pass it up. As Fission tried to recuperate from Malone's offense of left handed hooks and right handed body punches, he kicked Fission in the gut. He bent over, put Fission in a standing headscissors and hooked his arms. Joey lifted him over his right shoulder, up into a Canadian backbreaker rack, still holding the arms. Joey then dropped to the right side while maneuvering Syphon Fission back upside down, dumping him on his head.

Everest Cataclysm. The fans went nuts. Keri went nuts. You went nuts. Fission was limp and not getting up, and Malone hooked his leg as fast as he could. The referee counted.

One

Two

Three!

Ding Ding Ding.

Shame played as Malone stood up, pumped as ever. The announcement was made that Malone scored his first pinfall, and the score board changed.

(5:23 into first interval.)
Syphon Fission - 0
Joey Malone - 1

Shame faded out as Malone say Fission still lay there. He decided to hook up the leg again and try to milk the move for everything it was worth.

One

Two

THREE~!

Three?

Malone knew that he would kick out but tried anyway. Fission got his shoulder up rather quickly, and started to laugh.

"Advantage me."

Malone didn't know what he was talking about. That is, until Malone saw Fission flip to his feet, kick him as hard as he could. Malone was already on the mat, but he grabbed his side. Fission spit on Joey, and repeated his attack. A solid kick right to the back of Joey Malone. The shot onto his back echoed through the arena.

Fission picked up Malone, and started hammering him with rights and lefts, catching Malone all over. Malone was a little sapped of strength. That's when it all became clear. Let Malone waste energy while he built his up. It was a clever idea, and the ass kicking Malone had given him only stoked the fire within.

Syphon Fission used his large left arm to clothesline Malone as hard as he could to the mat. Malone's body smacked against the mat hard. Fission stood over him and jumped up high then drilled his right knee into Malone's rib cage. Malone coughed in pain.

Fission picked up Joey and used his forearms against the man. He began elbowing Malone's chest with hard shots. It was enough to force the resilient Joey Malone to the mat, and to writhe in pain for a span of thirty seconds, as Syphon Fission delivered boot after boot to him.

The offensive explosion was getting its pistons going for the long haul of the match.

That was when Fission decided it was time to even the score. He picked up Joey Malone and kicked him in the gut, just like he had done to him. Syphon double underhooked his arms. He stood there for a second, and looked across the arena, and chuckled a little. They were booing like nuts.

Malone tried the best he could to back body drop the larger Fission, but it was no use. Fission gave him a vicious punch to the kidneys, and then lifted himself into the air and drove Malone's head into the ring. Death Plunge. And everyone was booing.

Fission used no time to cover Joey. And it was rather elementary after that.

One

Two

Three!

Ding Ding Ding.

Dumb Waiters by the Mars Volta played throughout the boos of the fans. Fission raised his arms in victory.

(7:24 into first interval.)
Syphon Fission - 1
Joey Malone - 1

Fission picked Malone up again, and double underhooked him yet again. He was going to pile on Death Plunge after Death Plunge and take the match with ease.

Too bad Malone back body dropped Fission out of the ring, causing the body of the man to smack the hard black padding on the outside. He grabbed his back from the sting of it. Malone was now resting against the ring ropes, and using his arms to prop him up. He eyed Keri, who was trying to work her way out of the cuffs that were around her wrists. She was the manager of Joey Malone, of course, and he needed her help just as much as anybody.

Fission was now getting up on the outside, and quickly rolled back into the ring. Malone was there waiting, with another left hand ping pong ball with your face binge. Fission was starting to see the venom in that left handed hook, and decided it was time to use his fighting training.

Fission started with a quick right handed palm thrust to Malone's heart, causing it to skip a beat for a split second. It was enough of a break that it left Fission with no problems. Fission then form tackled Malone hard into the mat and used his hands to punch while he was on top of him. He then began a vicious assault of punches and forearm thrusts into the face and chest of Malone.

Fission dismounted his opponent, who began gasping for breath. Fission wasn't drawing blood yet, and that had to disappoint him. That is when he began to use the fans booing as a energy gauge. Syphon Fission was just sneering as the fans threw ice and trash at him.

Malone was just getting to his feet, and saw the clock hit ten minutes. Fifty more minutes to go.

Malone used his energy to go up behind Fission and hooked him up for a german suplex. Fission went for a elbow to his head with the right arm. Wrong move. Malone managed to pull that right arm across Fission's throat, and hooked him in an inverted front facelock. He fell forward, driving Fission's skull into the mat. Fission tried to fight it, but with his own massive arm being used as leverage, he could not stop what was going to happen.

Exorcism DDT.

Malone pinned quickly.

One

Two

Kickout.

Malone couldn't believe it. Fission was not going to go down on some of Malone's secondary moves. Not yet at least.

He wasted about a minute or two off the clock though. And really, when you get down to it, in a match like this, time is more important then anything else. Fission slowly got to his feet, and looked at Malone, who was a little spent. He knew he had another chance to establish who is exactly the better man.

He looked at Malone.

Malone slowly turned around.

<B>BAM~!</B>

Jumping Pump Kick.

Malone crumpled to a heap on the mat. Fission pinned.

One

Two

Three!

Ding Ding Ding.

Dumb Waiters played on as Fission quickly got up and started to taunt the fans, to give him more power. More strength. More guile.

(12:47 into first interval.)
Syphon Fission - 2
Joey Malone - 1

The theme cut and the match was still going on. Fission wanted to gain an almost deadly and crucial lead, one that he could probably not lose. Fission picked up Malone and put him into a Falcon Arrow. He let the boos fill him, and Keri's pleas to stop to power him even further.

Malone wiggled free.

Malone returned the favor.

Jumping Pump Kick.

Fission hit the mat hard. Malone wasted no time in running for the pin.

One

Two

No.

Malone freaked out. He was royally pissed at the referee, who stated Fission moved. He, however, was fighting a battle he could not win. Fission got his shoulder up in the nick of time.

Malone went to the outside and grabbed a chair. The first interval was coming to a close, and soon the rules would change to that of a Gladiator match. Malone needed to get the tying pin to make life on him more easy down the stretch.

Malone never saw Fission get up.

Nor did he see that he had Payback in his hands.

Malone's hands let go of that chair the second Fission used his home run swing on it. Malone was able to duck a deadly swing meant for his cranium, but could not avoid the shot that Fission took at his weak left knee. Malone dropped to the mat, grabbing the knee, as Fission picked him up for a crucifix powerbomb. Malone was in too much pain to do much about it. The countdown was going, and Fission followed through.

Fall From Grace.

Fission rolled Malone into a pin.

One

Two

Three.

Dumb Waiters played just before the buzzer sounded, signifying the end of the first interval of four in Life, Death, Endurance III

The score was not good.

(14:56 into first interval.)
Syphon Fission - 3
Joey Malone - 1

The match wasn't going to pause.

The second interval has begun. The fourth ever Gladiator Match.

As Fission was walking around, having put away the match, so it seems. That's when "Geronimo" by Unwritten Law played, forcing some of the fans to go apeshit. Yeah. The former IWO Cruiser Weight champion, the former IWO World Champion, the former member of fWo's Survivor II came out.

For those who do not know, his name is Donnie Daze.

He ran down to the ring, and slid into the ring. He however didn't see that Fission had his shovel in his hands. No matter, he rolled when Fission brought the shovel down as hard as he could. Before Fission knew it, he was on the mat thanks to a clothesline to the back of his head via Daze.

"Made of Steel" by Our Lady Peace began to play over the speakers. Out of the backstage area came the IWO Extreme legend, the former World Champion of the IWO, and a man who was a part of jOlt and Epic. One could say this man was the man who started all this madness.

Samuel Potright.

He ran to the ring, and laying punches on Fission. Fission tried to get up, but was sandwiched by two men who were giving him soccer kicks to his entire body. It was like a gang gathering around an enemy and pummeling the shit out of him. The blood was coming out of his mouth like nuts now, as he tried to roll out of the way. Malone was getting back into reality as Daze landed a perfect elbow drop on Fission's skull.

"Loco" by Coal Chamber began to play throughout the entire arena, as the first ever IWO Grand Slam Champion strolled out to the ring from the back. The WWR star looked very comfortable, getting the biggest reaction out of any of the gladiators in the match.

Enter High Flyer.

He entered the ring and told his two partners to back off. He picked up by his head, and double underhooked him and lifted him up into the sky. He the held him up for five seconds, losing his grip. He landed a neckbreaker on Fission. Hypothermia. Potright grabbed Malone and dragged him on top of Syphon Fission, who seemed to be in some very unfair territory. Life's a bitch, ain't it? The referee started counting.

One

Kickout!

Fission kicked out as hard as he could.

Just then, everyone heard "No Way Out" by the Stone Temple Pilots. Perhaps the biggest enigma around, he was a former IWO World Champion and IOW World Champion. A man both Fission and Malone were partially responsible for creating.

Kent Anthason.

He ran into the ring, and immediately began to pummel Syphon Fission. This was his revenge on the man who intended on ending his career. This was his pillar of freedom. Anthason was the real God of Fight, and he was making people know it with his brutal punches. The fans were going nuts, and Keri's eyes were fixated on the action, not her peril. She had been working on getting the cuffs off her hands for the entire match.

Fission was in trouble, because he was not getting up, even though he tried as hard as he could. Daze picked him up and hit him with an inverted face buster, or as Daze calls it, the Dazed and Confused. Fission was now on his back, as the group of four gladiators collected near the ring post.

Fission was in serious trouble. First it would be High Flyer. He climbed to the top turnbuckle, and did a backflip, landing it perfectly flush on Fission's body. Flying Moon Shot

Daze got to the top rope and signaled for his special aerial move. He jumped about eight feet off the top rope, and landed a frog splash onto the solar plexus of Syphon Fission. Daze Blaze.

Kent Anthason climbed the top turnbuckle, and jumped, flying in a corkscrew somersault. He landed right on Syphon Fission, driving more life out of the proclaimed Man-O-War. Double Helix.

That's when Samuel Potright climbed to the top rope and put his arms out in a crucifix. He then jumped off.

In a shooting star press. He landed the move right on Fission. That's when he opened his eyes.

Malone had used this time to aid Keri. She had a pick in her hair, and with it he picked the lock for her. She was free, but there would be no warm embrace. There was a war to win.

When Malone saw what had happened, he literally jumped on top of Fission and made the pin. The referee made the count.

One

Two

Three!

Ding Ding Ding!

Shame played on as Malone had stopped the bleeding in the losing column. He was only one behind the monstrous Syphon Fission.

(4:52 into second interval.)
Syphon Fission - 3
Joey Malone - 2

Fission however, wasted no time in getting back up. He clotheslined Malone to the mat as hard as he could, and Malone's head ricocheted off the mat.

Fission then turned his head to the gladiators who had tried to tip the scales in the favor of his opponent. Flyer and Daze charged him. Ashes, ashes, they all fell down.

Double clothesline. Flyer and Daze both hit the mat hard.

Potright was ready to attack Fission, but it was no use. Nothing that he could do would even put a dent into a charge Fission. The running knee slam Fission used on Potright put him right onto the mat. However, Anthason stood there, like nothing was going on. That's when the two engaged into a UFC style brawl.

Fission gored Anthason as hard as humanly possible, and began running rights and lefts off the skull of Anthason. Kent's forehead busted open rather quickly, but it meant nothing.

He rolled over the bigger man and started doing the same. However, Fission covered his head and wrapped his massive legs around Anthason. He kept fighting, but the punches of Kent Anthason did little to no damage to Fission's variation of Token Weed's Guard Position.

Anthason used an elbow chop to the sternum, causing Fission to break the hold. Fission managed to clothesline Anthason when he stood up, but as he did, he was met with a boot to the lower jaw.

That one's complements of Joey fucking Malone.

Malone helped up Anthason. He patted him on the back. Then, Anthason smiled. Punch, kick, punch, chop, scoop slam. Malone was down and before he knew it, was eating a Double Helix. Anthason then rolled out of the ring, and left to a mixed reaction from the fans.

Three gladiators were left, and they were barely moving. Fission was up at this point, and happened to met Daze as he was getting up. Double underhook. Death Plunge. Daze was thrown out of the ring.

Two to go.

Fission immediately picked up High Flyer and brought the snow selling lunatic to reality by lifting him into a pancake, then bringing him down for a face buster. You're My Bitch. Fission threw High Flyer out of the ring.

One to fucking go.

"Look, if it isn't the two killers of my soul" Fission cackled. Potright was up, as Malone was still trying to gather himself. Fission's cold steel blue eyes pierced a hole through Potright, who tried to back away. This wasn't a wrestling match. It was a real fight. And he was mincemeat if he fought that beast.

Somewhere between seeing Fission charge and the thoughts registering of how pretty a colored spot he would be in the ring, Potright stopped caring. He jumped high into the air and landed a perfect drop kick to the face of the charging bull.

Fission hit the mat hard, but Potright could do nothing as Fission sprung to his feet as fast as possible, then crushed his larynx with a hard clothesline. Potright was now on the mat, but he flipped to his feet and attempted to gore Fission. Attempted is the key word here. Fission picked Potright up by his head and power suplexed him to the mat.

Fission picked up the downed Samuel Potright, and put him in position to Death Plunge him to Hell. However, Sam had other ideas. With a back body drop, Fission was now forced to regroup as Potright stood right over him, nailing him with a couple of soccer kicks.

Malone was starting show his first signs of life after the Double Helix. He was starting to get to his feet. Seeing as how Potright and Fission were brawling it out, he didn't want to interrupt the two. After all, he wanted to play it safe. Why do something when you really are not needed.

Malone secretly hoped their fight would last the entire interval. He didn't want to rush in and have to fight Fission at this particular moment. However, Keri's yelling was getting into his head, and it was starting to give him some energy.

Potright picked up Fission and put him in position for a DDT. He then lifted up Fission and landed an implant DDT on the IWO World Champion. He then started going nuts, telling Malone to go get the pin while he still could.

However, it was not to be.

Fission stood right back up, an angered look of pure rage in his face. He charged him and began punching and kicking him as much as he could in a short span of time. Fission picked up Sam, then kicked him the gut and gave him a double underhook.

Back body drop. Again.

Fission was getting rather angry with this entire process of not finishing his own moves. He leaped to his feet, and clasped both hands together and gave Potright a sledgehammer blow to the chest. With the force in the blow, it sent he wind right out of Sam Potright.

He reached out and grabbed Potright by the throat. He then kneed him in the gut. He put his head in DDT position. He then lifted him up, and landed him in an Evenflow DDT. War Within A Breath. Fission threw his old foe out of the ring.

So, with about 4 minutes left in the interval, The gladiators were all gone. So, with this, Malone decided to stand up and use his venomous left hook to blind side his opponent. The blow forced spit to come out of Fission's mouth like a boxer hitting a knockout punch.

Malone used this time to go behind Fission and put him in a position where he could perform a straight jacket suplex. And he did. Fission's head snapped against the mat with a sickening thud as Malone garnered cheers from the crowd.

He began to roll up for another one. Mad Cow Disease. Keri and the rest of the fans were going nuts.

Once to his feet, Malone forced Fission back onto the back of his head, with another sickening thud against the mat. Malone was getting tired from carrying all the weight of Fission, but it would not stop him from rolling to his side with Syphon still hooked in a straight jacket suplex.

He got to his feet, and even though Fission tried multiple counters, it wouldn't work. He tried to mule kick Malone, but it was too late. When his leg began to make that move, Joey used all the force in his body to dump Fission on his skull yet again. After doing so, he released his hold, and rolled over to pin Fission, who seemed out after the third straight jacket suplex. The referee counted.

One

Two

THREE!

Three?

Nope. Fission kicked out with authority.

And now he was standing up before Joey Malone. Malone, still tired from performing the Mad Cow Disease on Syphon Fission, was not going to get up since his arms felt like dead weight. No worries for Syphon however. Malone was going to lay there? Fine.

Fission locked Malone in a mandible claw with is left and began wrenching down on it. With an ear piercing scream, Malone immediately bit down on Fission fingers. Fission looked into his eyes and roared something.

"PLZ DIE THX!"

Fission used his right hand to start punching the face of Joey Malone unmercilessly. Losing track of the blows, the face of Malone now broken open so badly that the blood covered his eyes, the referee knew Malone wasn't going to get up anytime soon.

The referee called for the bell. Fission got another point in this Life, Death, Endurance match.

(14:07 into second interval.)
Syphon Fission - 4
Joey Malone - 2

Dumb Waiters played on. The fans were booing. The match was progressing, and was almost half the way finished, and Malone was getting the hell beat of himself.

Keri was extremely worried as Fission stood up and declared himself the winner. His fingers were bleeding, but it didn't matter. He was half way home to the promised land, and he knew it.

Malone was trying to move, as the fans booed like mad people.

Fission was now taunting. Half way through the never, and he already though it was improbable that Malone could come back.

The buzzer sounded. The score?

30:00 minutes left in LDE III
Syphon Fission - 4
Joey Malone - 2

The Gladiator Match interval was over. Next up was the ladder match interval.

Chaos was beginning as we spoke.

The third interval was starting as a steel structure was being lowered from the ceiling of the building. It had an assortment of boxes hanging from it. The goal? Nab one of these boxes to gain the fall. Also, and added incentive is involved. Inside each box is one weapon that the person gets to use. It would be total chaos in a world where the only things doing the damage were fists. This is where we find out how much each man wants this victory.

Keri had taken to grabbing a black steel chair. He face was twisted into a smile, like Fission's. Scary. Did he turn her into his little slave? She called Fission over, and threw the chair to him. He looked over at her, and smiled back.

<B>BAM~!</B>

The Joey Malone/Keri Lindum connection was on all cylinders. Keri went nuts on the outside and Malone had hit that chair as hard as he could. Fission grabbed his face, and a couple seconds, dark crimson blood started coming out his face ALA Jason Kidd. Malone picked up the chair and threw it into the crowd. That was how happy he was.

Fission's left eye socket took the brunt of the blow. His forehead was busted open, but that socket was bleeding into his eyeball. This would cause him to have some problems as the match went down. Fission was effectively put on notice that the match wasn't over.

While this was going on, Malone exited the ring and went to the outside and set up one of the tables that are laying on the outside. He then went into the ring with a ladder, setting it up on the mat. His next goal? Get Fission.

Easier to do when he is coming at you.

Fission hit Malone with a vicious right hand, blood streaming down his face. Fission whipped Malone into the ladder, causing it to fall over and Malone to fall back to the mat after a sick ding noise was head of bone on metal. Fission now picked up the pace, and set the ladder up. Malone was down. He quickly climbed, and had his fingers on one box. He had his fingers there.

Malone pushed the ladder over, causing him to not only fall down fifteen feet, but also have the ladder on top of him. Malone used this opportunity to scale the turnbuckle, and to look around.

Malone jumped.

He did a moonsault.

A split fucking legged moonsault. Onto the ladder. Onto Fission.

The fans went freaking insane. A small "HOLY SHIT!" chant broke out. Malone grabbed the ladder and set it up, looking at the table. Fission was busy trying to recuperate before Malone launched another high flying assault.

Malone rolled Fission out of the ring, and placed him on the table. Malone made sure he was going to stay tight.

"Don't go anywhere Clark, Joey's got a present for ya."

He got in the ring and scaled the ladder, and stood on the top rung of it. He then jumped.

Shooting Star Press. Very un-Malone-like. The force drove Malone into Fission so hard that the table burst into mere garbage. Fission was in serious trouble like never before.

"HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!" The fans went wild. And Keri? Saying she went wild was an understatement.

Malone grabbed his chest with his left hand, but raised his right into the air. Third quarter comeback? Yes.

Malone climbed back into the ring, and climbed his ass right back up that ladder. He then started climbing slowly. After all, when you do a fucking split legged moonsault and shooting star press, you're going to be tired.

Malone got up to the top of the ladder after thirty seconds of climbing. There was a new challenge before him though. Get the box. He grabbed it and tugged, but it was not coming off.

Oh yeah, and Syphon Fission will not die. He got himself up, and shook the cobwebs out of his cranium. With blood in his eyes and face, he decided it was equalizer time.

He picked himself up after falling back down. He would not be denied. He would not lose. Not after all this pain and putting a lead up on Malone that was insurmountable. Malone was alive and kicking, and it was time to put him down for good. One last interval to win it for him as far was he was concerned.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe he was wrong.

However, Payback is a bitch.

Fission stumbled over to the shovel. With both hands, he grabbed it. It was like holding Almighty as far as he was concerned. He rolled into the ring, and charged the ladder. He nailed it as hard as he could with the shovel, knocking it over.

Malone clasped onto a box, and his weight forced it to come down on top of him.

(4:59 into third interval.)
Syphon Fission - 4
Joey Malone - 3

Shame played as Malone put himself within one fall of the beast. He had a chance after all. However, the box broke open over his chest upon landing, reveling a new weapon into the match.

The crowbar.

Malone clutched it, but it was all for not as Fission kicked it out of the ring. Fission decided to put himself even more, and put down Payback as he repositioned the ladder under a huge box. Fission began climbing. The end was in sight.

Malone, gaining some extra life, decided enough was enough. He picked up Payback and began climbing the ladder on the other side. Before you knew it, they were at eye level, and Fission smiled.

Didn't smile for long.

Malone nailed Fission's left side with Payback, it knocked him off the ladder and out of the ring. Instinctively, Fission kicked the ladder, causing it to fall the other way he was falling.

Fission went through the IWO announce table with extreme force. Malone fell to his side, unable to get up as he slammed hard against the mat.

There wasn't a move made for a minute. Again, the stupid fans began chanting "HOLY SHIT!". Wow. Two men are killing each other while I sit on my fat ass and eat popcorn. I rule.

The first one to stir around was Fission, who rolled out of the wreckage that was once the IWO announce table, and tried to stand up. However, he couldn't. He forced himself up on a black steel chair, and tried to gather himself. Malone was suicidal right now.

Malone started to move around, having pushed the ladder off of himself. The shovel was out of his hands, and he started to get up. Fission had gathered himself up and grabbed the chair and threw it in the ring. He rolled in and opened the chair, having ideas on what to do.

He turned around.

Malone dropkicked him in the face. Fission grabbed his face, but Malone went behind him and put him in position for a cross-armed suplex. He lifted him onto his shoulders and fell back. Onto the steel chair. Fission's spine went crack as he broke the steel chair in two.

Malone then mounted Fission and just began to rain down punches as everyone roared in approval. This was Malone's revenge. He would not be denied.

Fission grabbed him by the throat. The self-proclaimed demigod of wrestling was not going to curl into a ball and die. Not yet. He threw Malone off him with as much force as he could, however, his strength was getting sapped as the match went. The blood lose however didn't effect him much.

You get used to that.

Fission gave Malone a couple soccer kicks, and put the ladder back up under the biggest box on the structure. He climbed as fast as he could, which wasn't really fast right now. However, he was still pushing and striving for the top.

Too bad Malone was climbing the other side with half of the broken chair. When Fission's finger wrapped around the box at the top, Malone hit him over the head with the broken in half chair. Fission fell right back down as the fans began cheering. Malone grabbed the box and used his weight to bring it down with him.

(10:34 into third interval.)
Syphon Fission - 4
Joey Malone - 4

Shame played as the fans gave the loudest pop of the night. Fission, who was cruising before, now was watching it all slip away, as Malone's iron will was force upon this contest.

Fission was getting to his feet now, wondering what the hell happened. Seeing a sledgehammer and the remnants of a broken box did little to ease his troubles. Malone was down, so Fission kicked the hammer out of the ring. He repositioned a ladder next to another box close to a turnbuckle. As he started climbing, Malone started getting himself up and went outside for another ladder.

Malone set it up a good distance away from Fission, who was slowly climbing up the ladder, hoping the stop the bleeding he had suffered in losing two straight falls.

Malone, however, climbed to the top rung of a twelve foot ladder, and laughed. Fission could hear the chuckles.

Malone went for the king of all springboard drop kicks. It connect. The ladder hit the ring ropes, forcing it to smack against Fission's head, and because of all the weight on the top, it flipped to the outside. Fission was broken open even worse now, and was laying on the floor without a way to get his ass up. Enter "Holy Shit" again. Keri was jumping up and down like a kid who just got what they wanted for Christmas.

Malone himself tried to get going, as his body wasn't responding the way he would have liked it to. Fission, after thirty seconds, started moving. He picked himself up and stumbled towards a table. Setting it up on the outside, Malone rolled out of the ring and met up with his mortal enemy. Fission delivered a forearm shiver, and a violent knee lift to the face, busting Malone's nose.

Fission put Malone on the table. He wouldn't be going anywhere.

Fission entered the ring and climbed to the top of the twelve foot ladder. The fans booed. He was no high flyer. He jumped up as high as possible and did a 450 degree frog splash. He connected with Malone, and the force flattened the table after breaking it down the middle.

Loose Ends.

The fans screamed "HOLY SHIT!" after that one. Keri fell to the ground, covering her eyes. She was unable to watch.

Fission took his time getting back into the ring. When he did, he climbed the ladder and reached the top. Reaching around, he grabbed a box and pulled it off. No muss, no fuss.

(12:48 into third interval.)
Syphon Fission - 5
Joey Malone - 4

Dumb Waiters played on as the arena began to boo vicously. Fission was once again in the lead. However, he was on his heels. The interval wasn't over. Anything could happen.

Malone was starting to come to at this point and time.

He rolled out of the wreckage, and looked at the score board. Angry, he stood up. He had less then twenty minutes to finish the job. Fission was coming down the ladder as Malone strolled on in, pushed it over, and caused Syphon to throw the box into the ring. It broke open. Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Malone picked up Payback and decided it was time to do some hammer time.

Syphon Fission being sandwiched between a ladder and the mat, Malone took the oppurtunity to show the world the proper use of the almighty shovel.

He began to slam it hard into the upper body of Fission. Again and again. Maybe twenty times, to the approval of the fans. He then kicked Syphon out from underneath the ladder.

He set it up, right under a box. He began climbing.

It took him a minute to get to the top, but he was up there. The fans were going nuts. Keri was going nuts.

However, this is a case of Fission not knowing when the fuck to sit down and let someone win.

He got up, as the countdown began.

20…19…18…17…

Malone's fingers slipped.

16…15…14…13…12…

He grabbed the box, but it wasn't coming down.

11…10…9…8…7…

Fission was forcing his way up the ladder. It began tittering.

6…5…4…3…

Malone got a vice grip on the box and all his weight on it.

"Please God!" he roared.

…2…1!

Malone was on the mat after the one count. Fission was on the mat, saying that Malone didn't get it in time.

The buzzer sounded.

The referee said Malone did.

(14:59 into third interval.)
Syphon Fission - 5
Joey Malone - 5

Shame played throughout the arena as the fans were going insane. It was like the Knicks had come back from being down twenty in the NBA Finals against the Lakers in game 7, giving New York the momentum in the last quarter. It was like the Giants scoring twenty-one unanswered points to tie the Raven's in the Super Bowl. That's the reaction the fans gave.

With no instant replay, we will never know.

However, after forty-five minutes of Hell, it still comes down to the last fifteen minutes.

Now, time to knock out the opponent for a twenty count.

Fission was busy arguing the call with the official as all was slipping away. His strength was sapped, his body broken and more then sore. However, his mind knew what had to be done. Malone was stirring up as well, and needed a boost. He was tied again, but he needed to force his will. That's when he made a decision.

Win, or die trying.

So Fission was arguing right? Wrong. Malone's karate kick to the back of his head shut him up. Fission feel onto the mat face first. He hopped up however, and used his forearm to bust Malone in the jaw. Malone would have none of this as he rebounded with a couple venomous left hooks. That left hook was slowly working Fission to rubble. It was one of the most effective weapons he had ever devised.

You wouldn't know that the man wasn't a fighter.

Nor did you think that innocent Keri Lindum would be so full of hate that she would get another chair.

She looked at Fission, who was backpedaling. She threw it up. He grabbed it, and it seemed like history would repeat itself.

Fission played possum. He threw the chair at Malone, who grabbed it out of instinct.

<B>CRUNCH~!</B>

Fuckhead.

The chair flung out of his hands, his face now covered in crimson, and he hit the mat, covering his face. The referee began counting.

1…2…3…4…5…

Malone began to try to get up, but Fission kicked him in the gut.

6…7…8…9…10…11…

Malone again tried to get up, but Fission kicked him. Malone grabbed his leg, and tripped Fission to the mat. Malone got up and kicked Fission as hard as he could right in the ribs.

Fission got up however and gored Malone to the mat and began punching him. Again and again. He was starting to hit into the reserve tanks. He was running on fumes at this point, and Malone was the one with enough to comeback.

Malone rolled him over and he used his fists on him. Fission covered his head and wrapped his legs around Joey. He kept punching, but the punches made by Joey Malone did little to no damage to Fission's variation of Token Weed's Guard Position.

Time to mess this all up. As unconventionally as possible. Malone called to Keri to give him a chair, and she went under the ring and dragged another black steel chair out. She slid it right next to him. Malone picked it up, and looked at Fission.

"PAY YOU BITCH!"

Malone slammed the chair into the upper body of Syphon Fission. His legs broke loose, and Fission roared. Malone stood up as Fission writhed in pain.

He stood up, and marched over to Malone. With a hard punch to the gut he doubled over. Fission put him in a standing head scissors and hooked both arms. He then drilled Malone's mug into the canvas.

That wasn't good enough for Syphon though. He had to put Malone out for good. A couple kicks the ribs prevented the referee from counting Malone's body on the canvas, seeing as how Fission was playing with the recuperating Malone.

He then lifted Malone up. It was that time. He put Malone into a lower body cradle pancake, and climbed the turnbuckle.

People didn't want to see this happen again.

It didn't matter.

Faded Dreams. Fission again put Malone down with a Faded Dreams. The match was Malone's up to this point, and with less the ten minutes left, this would put it away. The referee began counting as Keri was crying for her fallen knight.

1…2…3…4…

Fission taunted the crowd. He had his lead.

5…6…7…8…9…

Fission did a mock crucifix at the crowd.

10…

10…

10!

Malone flipped up. The look of anger was on his face. He was literally re-energized by the deadly move. Fission turned around to see what the fuss was in the referee not counting.

Fear.

Fission didn't know what that word meant.

Until he saw a bloody, broken Malone, standing after he landed his most powerful punch of all. Malone's motions were Fission to bring his ass into a fight. Malone had finally let the experience of months, if not years, of frustration culminate in the ultimate moment. A moment that would live in the annals of IWO and Action! history.

The crowd's reaction? The decibel level hit over 160. Keri was going freaking nuts on the outside, her knight finally close to killing the villain.

Fission's fear struck face just shook back and forth. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. There was no fucking way. He doubted himself more then ever right at that moment.

Malone went to quick work, using a combo of punches and kicks, and then started playing punching bag with his left hand. Fission was in utter shock and disbelief.

Malone landed the shocked Syphon Fission with a Evenflow DDT. Fission's skull bounced off the canvas, and the referee began counting again, the fans going apeshit right now.

Malone was so close to putting it all away.

1…2…3…4…5…

Fission tried to move, but Malone kicked him in the ribs.

6…7…8…9…10…

Fission flipped up, much to the fans dismay. His eyes were now ablaze. He needed to get this on. Time to use his superior strength and endurance to just pummel and dismantle Malone.

He kicked Malone in the gut and gave him a implant DDT.

Fission picked up a steel chair that was used to give Malone a Fuckhead, but it didn't really mean much. He looked down at Malone and went to bring down the chair on top of him, caving his insides in.

He brought the chair down.

Nobody home.

Malone rolled out of the way. He got to his feet and drop kicked the chair right into the cranium of Syphon Fission. The fans were going crazy.

Malone knew he could grab the lead right then. The ending the fans were looking for was almost reality. It was almost all over.

Malone picked up the chair, and took it up with him as his climbed the turnbuckles. Fission rolled to his left and saw her.

Payback.

He clasped it with his two hands and began standing up like a drunkard boxer. Malone put the chair out, and went for a suicide dive right at Fission.

Syphon saw this. Just like batting practice.

<B>CRUNCH~!</B>

The chair and the shovel went right into the face of Joey Malone. Needless to say, the fans booed. Joey wasn't going to get up.

1…2…3…4…5…

Fission kept a close eye on Malone.

6…7…8…9…10…

The fans started a Joey chant. Keri was in with them, chanting his name. Hoping he would come to life.

11…12…13…14…15…

Malone wasn't moving one bit.

16…17…18…19…20!

Ding ding ding.

Fission raised his arms in victory. He had his lead.

(8:56 into fourth interval.)
Syphon Fission - 6
Joey Malone - 5

Malone was finally starting to move, and even stood up. Fission just sneered. He was going to win, and he didn't fuck care how.

Fission clotheslined Malone to the mat. He then jumped into the sky and landed his left knee into he face of Joey. With nothing else in his mind but carnage, Fission picked up Malone and threw him into the ring ropes. When he rebounded out, Fission grabbed him and gave him a very high velocity spine buster. Fission stood over his downed opponent, and laughed as the referee began counting a lifeless Joey Malone.

1…2…3…4…5…

Malone was on one knee at this point, seeing as how he was not going to be denied.

6…7…


Malone was up.

However, like a boxer, Fission charged right back towards his prey. Fission grabbed Malone and put him in another head scissors. He then lifted him up for a powerbomb, snapping him back down on his head. The dull thud was heard throughout the arena.

1…2…3…4…5…

Malone wasn't moving. Fission was literally going crazy.

6…7…8…9…10…

Malone was showing little sign of life. Nothing much. Keri was biting her nails, hoping her husband would get up.

11…12…13…14…15…

Malone was struggling to get to his knee.

16…17…18…19…

19!

The referee stopped the second Malone stood up. Fission looked over at Malone, not knowing what to do. He had done all he could up to this point to put the bastard away. But he kept coming back.

Malone knew the time was his. As Fission charged him, he gave the bastard a drop kick to the face. Getting to his feet, he picked up Syphon Fission, and put him into a standing head scissors. He then hooked him in a cross-armed variation of the Everest Cataclysm. He landed it, causing Fission to literally pass out from all the pressure on his neck and head.

Fission just took a trip down Memory Lane.

1…2…3…4…5…

The fans were going crazy.

6…7…8…9…10…

Keri was going crazy.

11…12…13…14…15…

Joey was dancing along the ring. The tide had finally turned his way.

16…17…18…19…20!

Ding ding ding.

The fans erupted into a sea of noise. Malone raised his arms like he has won. Keri was getting teary eyed. The end was near. She could sense it.

(14:24 into fourth interval.)
Syphon Fission - 6
Joey Malone - 6

Shame played on as Fission opened his eyes. He knew he had just lost the lead for the first time since the beginning. He literally went nuts. He was losing a battle he let slip away.

That's when he saw it. Payback. He rolled over, grabbing onto it like it was his savior. Fission held Payback. The final minute was passing. Time for him to beat Malone right now.

Keri saw this, and something inside her clicked. She dove and grabbed the old sledgehammer Joey had gotten from the box in the ladder interval. She knew he could end this all now. Fission can bring his Payback. Malone has his hammer.

Malone saw Keri, and then the hammer. He grabbed it, and stood up.

Fission swung at Malone's side.

Malone swung at Fission's other side.

Contact on both.

They both fell down.

Both were so exhausted from their battle that they didn't try to get up.

The referee started counting both men down.

However, after 20 seconds, neither man got up.

The referee just waited for the end of the interval, and the match.

The fans were shocked. They didn't get their ending. They were pissed.

Not like it mattered.

Final Score
Fission - 6
Malone - 6

The End

Fission rolled out of the ring and grabbed a black bag from under the ring. He then re-entered that same right, unzipped the bag open, and grabbed a pair of cuffs. He then dragged Joey Malone's tired, beaten body to the ring ropes. Upon cuffing him, he grabbed a microphone and began speaking to the people, still not knowing how to react to the ending of this match.

"Joey, you just had to ruin this all, didn't you?

Didn't you?

It's been like this since the day I met you. It's always about you and your desires. Not what other people's desires were. I tried to follow them Joey. I really did. I tried to love you.

But you used my friendship.

You used me as your stepping stone."

Malone was stirring awake now, and the audience was silent for the first time tonight. Something bad was happening, and everyone knew it.

"Remember when I told you my dream? REMEMBER?! Don't you remember that I worshipped the Champions Wrestling League.

When I was a little boy, I watched it and fell in love with it. It was forever my dream to one day be a part of the CWL tradition of excellence.

Remember, I had that shot? I had it all set up. My meeting with the CWL officials. They had interest in me Joey. ME!

When I spoke to them on the phone right before I got my big push in the IWO, they said they would give me my dream. I would become a CWL Superstar!

When the meeting was set up, they cancelled it on me. They stated they had interest in one person.

You.

YOU!

A FUCKING LANKY ASS NOBODY!

A GUY WHO ACTED LIKE A FUCKING RETARD AND GOT OVER WITH THAT!

You were the new wave to them. I was too old. They said my poor performance in matches sealed that fate. I WRESTLED MY ASS OFF! IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT DANE MATTHEW'S USED FIGHTING TACTICS TO BEAT ME! IT'S NOT MY FAULT POTRIGHT AND KOSOY WERE IN TO RAPE ME!

It's not my fault!

The CWL never gave me the contract they promised.

The whole time, it was all being orchestrated for the rise of Joey Malone. Potright told me after this was all done for you. For your coronation. MY WHOLE CAREER WAS DRAGGED THROUGH THE MUD SO YOU COULD TAKE MY CROWN AND PARADE AROUND LIKE A JACKASS!

I tried to forget this all. I remember we were going to have a match. I remember. Beach Party, last year. We were going to fight for the IWO World Title. AND WE BOTH DECIDED I WOULD WIN!"

The fans were silent. Fission was spilling his guts before all. All the things, the stories that you never knew about, they were showing up. Malone was only able to listen.

"Push came to shove. Malone didn't want to follow his word. He rather go against Kent Anthason.

HE HAS A FUTURE!

WHAT ABOUT THE FUTURE YOU ROBBED FROM ME JOEY? HUH? WHAT ABOUT THAT? IT WAS ALL ABOUT JOEY!

Well fuck you. I can't get back the year of my life you stole. I can't get back what you took from me.

I had everything Joey. I let you into my household. The next minute, everything was gone. You even raped me of an identity Joey."

Fission was pacing back and forth. Drunk with anger, Fission was close to just snapping.

"I followed you Joey. From Legends of Wrestling. I was supposed to debut. The closed down.

When Reed Young called, and stated you were on the roster, I was all for it.

All you needed to do for me was apologize. To follow the script.

BUT NO! YOU MADE UP THE MATCH AS YOU WENT ALONG! AT REDEMPTION, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO JOB! REMEMBER?

WELL, YOU SAID NO!

FUCK YOU!

Joey, you made me. I do not want to be like this, but you forced me to. It's all because of you that this all happened. You were always in control.

Until now."

Fission's eyes never blinked

"Joey…you tried to steal everything away from me again. When will you stop trying to take from me? You already have beaten me in school…you succeeded in ruining my professional career…something that took me a decade to build. You succeeded into turning yourself into a hero while I was left to sit in the shoes of the villain. Until now…I let you steal from me…

Turning me into nothing but an empty shelled creature. Malone…you not only stole my spotlight…

You stole my life.

I can not get that back. You wouldn't allow it. It would mean that you would have to be willing to share the spotlight of this business. You will not do that.

Why am I doing this to you? Because I can. Because this is payback for all those people you fucked between the ass cheeks. It all catches up to you in the fucking end, doesn't it?

Huh?

DOESN'T IT? REMEMBER THEM!

Because they are going to be your end."

Out of his black bag, he pulled out something that would change the world forever. A Colt M1911A1 hand gun. Malone's blood covered face went from one of disdain to total fear. The audience was totally silent at this moment. They were in total shock.

"I stand here with my gun for a reason. I am going to send you a message.

I AM GOING TO SEND THE WORLD A MESSAGE!

For everyone who was raped and left for dead…

For everyone who had his or her lives destroyed by a supposed hero…

For everyone who lost everything…

I am your guiding light.

You see Malone…it's been my plan even before Juggernaut came and passed. I would win. You would get your rematch…in the match you created. And it would end up tied, exhausted, unable to stop me from cuffing your arms to the ring ropes. Unable to stop me from blowing you and Keri's brains out.

Three people are in this ring…

Only one is walking away victorious."

The gasps, the shock. It was all too serious. You knew this wasn't part of the script. And you feared for your lives that nobody would leave harmed.

"I punished Keri for both you and her crimes. For being fakes in the sea of reality. The happy couple. Always ruining other people's lives to make yours better. YOU ARE THE ENDER OF ALL GOOD THINGS JOEY MALONE! YOU ARE THE RUINATOR OF ALL THAT IS PURE KERI LINDUM! You will never know until the day you die, just how many enemies will piss on your graves, and laugh. When you're both worm food, nobody will care.

The both of you are nothing more then cannon fodder. Expendable. You are going to take the fall for killing the person here that matters."

Fission put the gun barrel on the head of Joey Malone. His eyes squinted, and his teeth clenched. Fans were crying. Keri Lindum's mouth was a gap. He stood there for thirty seconds with the gun pointed on Malone's skull.

Then, he relented, and laughed.

"You honestly thought I would kill you? You're too valuable to me Joey. I will live on through you? Do you understand? Remember that stunt you pulled with that Coral Avalon fuck? He changed the whole plan for me. I could see it in your eyes that you thought you knew my every reaction.

This one, you could never see."

He walked around the ring for a couple seconds, then brought the microphone close to his mouth again. The gun was quivering in his hands.

"As a saint once said…

From this day forth Malone, you'll only ever destroy one more life...you're own.

Confused?

It's simple Joey…

I destroy me…

I destroy you."

He lifted the gun, and even through the screams, and the announcers calls to cut the PPV feed, nobody looked away. Fission put the gun barrel in his mouth, and got extremely close to Joey. His finger was around the trigger. He slowly started to pull.

…..
…..
……
…..

Someone hit the gun out of Fission's hand.

Keri Lindum, Payback in her hands. The gun slid to the outside, out of harms way. Fission looked at Keri, and began yelling and screaming.

"NO! NO! YOU RUINED IT ALL!"

The police ran down the entrance ramp as fast as they could. They jumped into the ring, and before you knew it, Syphon Fission was cuffed and thrown to the ground. They started reading him his rights, and began dragging him out of the arena. He was yelling and screaming, the fans cheering the police force as hard as they could.

Keri slumped down to hug Joey. They both began crying.

It was all over. Shame played on. The fans went nuts.


…Or Not

Fission was in the backstage area, slowly being taken to the cop car awaiting. He was going spend a long time behind bars. He was extremely pissed. His plan had failed.

Or had it?

There were only two police men around him now, and he was being dragged off. However, Fission used his strength the entire time to weaken the cuffs. He gave one hard pull, and they broke, allowing Syphon to turn around and punch out both police officers. He began running towards the set.

Inside the ring, Joey and Keri were whispering something to each other, the fans going nuts as Shame was reaching its ending.

That's when they saw Fission running out and get in the ring. The expressionless face of Syphon Fission was viewed by everyone. Joey and Keri were in awe. It wasn't over. It would never be over. Fission grabbed his microphone that he had dropped when he was cuffed, and looked at both Malone and Keri.

"Had them all fooled, didn't I? You think I had not seen all the possibilities? HUH? ARE YOU TAKING ME FOR SOME STUPID BITCH?

Joey…I am the most crooked dealer in this whole world. You know that better then anyone.

Thus, I came prepared."

Fission picked up the back bag in the ring, and dug around. Then he pulled out an exacto knife blade.

"See you in Hell…

Joey."

Fission cut a large wound across his chest. Blood started pouring into the ring. Nobody could react.

Fission then looked at his right wrist.

He slit it.

He quickly slit the right one.

He fell to the ground.

The paramedics quickly came out, as everyone was still trying to register what had just happened.

Fission attempted suicide not once, but twice, in front of millions.

The paramedics went to quick work, as Keri and Joey could only stare into the eyes of the soon to be dead star. They saw their old friends warm, soothing eyes.

The dying image of the night was the glazed over, expressionless face of Syphon Fission.

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