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Man: Welcome to the IWO's Gold and Glory.

One week later, fans that couldn't make it to Philadelphia are wondering a lot of questions. They're wondering who the World Heavyweight Champion is. They're wondering why we couldn't show the world this sooner.

And by the world, we mean your mom. ™ - Gunnar Smith or Comey, depending

Whatever the case, the answers would soon come.

But until then, realize that the world does not revolve around you.

Realize that the world changes with every step, with every day.

What you know today won't be true tomorrow.

What you believe…

Is meaningless.

The man throws his cigarette down on the cold concrete floor of the concert hall, before exiting the back door. The room is empty, there are no chairs, there is no ring. There is nothing… And suddenly, fading in, there is everything. The ring is set up, the fans were filing in, and both Chris Astro and Meygon make their way into the ring. They each wear attire that suits them, Chris Astro a financial disaster of a suit, and Meygon the destruction of innocence skirt and midriff. They each hold a microphone that's connected to the building's sound system.

GP: While our announcers argue over who gets to welcome the fans to the show, let me cut them off and do it for you! Welcome everyone, to Gold and GLORY! It feels GOOD to say that, one year since the last show we had under the IWO banner, we return, back to our home in Philadelphia in the Trocedaro.

JT: That's not very nice Parker. The intro is what Meygon and that other guy care about.

GP: His name is Chris JT.

JT: What, are you his freakin' boyfriend or something?

Parker sighs.

GP: Hopefully everything goes well, without a hitch this week.

JT: Great, now that you said that, I'm sure something's going to go wrong. I can just feel it in my bones. Let's just get to the opening freaking match.

GP: You're all straight to business like lately.

JT: Yeah. Strip clubs close early today. Since it's like, Independence Weekend. I'm wondering, when did I lose my independence to see college students getting extra money on the weekends by shaking around their jubblies.

GP: Jubblies?

JT: You heard me.

[opening.match]
Trey Vincent vs. Alias

JT: Well fans, it's time for the main event!

GP: No it isn't, it's time for the opening match.

JT: Oh, I must have gone back in time again, if you see another me, don't let ME see him or else the universe will implode.

GP: You're awfully strange as usual.

"Injected With A Poison" by Pragha Khan hits the speakers. The entrance music for one Trey Vincent.

GP: Let's send it to ring announcer Chris Astro.

Chris Astro: Ladies and gentlemen, this is the opening contest of Gold And Glory! Introducing first, from Minneapolis, Minnesota, weighing 265 pounds, the Sports Entertainment Icon, Trey Vincent.

Vincent, standing at 6-4 steps out from the back and stands there a moment, looking at the crowd. He heads down the ring, barely acknowledging the fans he embraces in Action Wrestling. Why not here? Once he hits the ring, he climbs the turnbuckles and stares out at the crowd, getting a mix of boos and cheers as he always does.

Vincent's fame has mainly come from his personality. He hasn't beaten many names in the business, but he has put on some great matches in his time and been quite the controversial character. Without his gimmick, he would most likely be a nobody in this business and been long since gone.

GP: Vincent got bumped from the World Title tournament last week, and tonight we will have a four-way, 30 minute match to determine the new IWO Champion.

JT: To join the illustrious past champions, such as Al Coholic, Ken War and Gunnar Smith.

GP: Damn man. Don't ever mention Satan again.

JT: Oh, right, my bad.

GP: There have been many other great champions here, such as Joey Malone, Syphon Fission and Simon Seaman.

Chris Astro: And his opponent…

"Faint" by Linkin Park hits the speakers.

Chris Astro: From, uh, weighing in at 247 pounds, Alias!

The 6-foot-4 star of All-Star Championship Wrestling steps out and gets a good amount of cheers on his debut appearance in the Internet Wrestling Organization. He walks down the aisle, ready to make an impression.

Alias is no doubt one of the up-and-comers in the wrestling world and should be listed among the greats in no time if he applies himself as he is capable of. This is a man who has beaten such names as Impulse Brian James of Action, Osyrus, formerly of PIW, Great Dragon of the fWo, Tempest of OSE, Steve Christ of Asylum and Vince Jacobs, a CWL world champion.

JT: Well, hopefully this won't suck.

GP: And the bell sounds. Only time will tell, now. Vincent talking some smack to start things off, surprise, surprise. But he won't be able to talk himself a victory.

JT: It's not impossible. He could eventually put him to sleep and cover him.

GP: The two men back up. Collar and elbow tie-up.

Vincent gets behind Alias and scissors his legs, bringing Alias down to the mat. Vincent floats over Alias and locks him into a front chancery. Alias battles his way up and grabs hold of Vincent's locks. Chinbreaker!

Hold, broken.

Vincent stares up at Alias from the mat, holding his jaw, and smiles in his usual cocky manner. He golf claps for Alias and pushes himself up. Vincent hesitates a moment and the two men circle each other.

TV charges at Alias. Sweeping kick. Alias ducks, the leg swooping over his head. Alias responds with one of his own, this time, Vincent ducking. Vincent put Alias into an arm breaker, Alias reverses, Vincent reverses, Alias reverses and whips Trey into the ropes.

Hip toss.

Vincent lands on his feet and hits his own hip toss.

Reverse, reverse, reverse, Vincent is hiptossed over the top rope but lands on the apron. Vincent with an eye poke. He runs the apron and got to the top rope.

Dropkick by Alias.

Vincent = crotched on the top turnbuckle.

Alias climbs up onto the second rope and prepares to take Vincent for a ride back to the mat with a superplex. But he is blocked in that plan. Vincent headbutts Alias in the face, but Alias responds with two stiff punches. He isn't gonna let this go.

But neither was Vincent. Vincent comes back with a punch to the side of Alias' face, which gave him just enough time to lift up Alias and drop him from the top turnbuckle onto the top rope for a BRUTAL Hot Shot.

GP: Man, that could've taken his head clean off.

JT: Oh, don't be so dramatic. He'd need a knife or guillotine to do that.

GP: Alright, well, he could have broken his neck with that.

JT: OK, I'll give you that one.

Alias recoils from the move and fell flat on his back. Vincent pulls himself up and then drags Alias to the ropes. He lays Alias' head on the bottom rope so it was poking through to the apron. That's where Vincent was going. He hops up on the second rope and hits a springboard leg drop on Alias' throat.

The fans groan as Alias was no gasping for breath. Vincent was up and ready to go on the attack. He pulls Alias up and whips him into the ropes. Lou Thesz press and Vincent begins wailing away on his foe with rapid lefts and rights.

As Vincent gets up, he flashes two middle fingers to the crowd, obviously taking that spot from a certain WWE guy who no longer can go. Vincent backs up and steps forward to drop a knee to the middle of Alias' face.

Vincent hooks the leg with the pin.

1…

2...

Kickout.

GP: Vincent once again pulls up Alias and locks him in for the move he calls the Minnesota leg sweep.

JT: Yes, screw Russia, you want cold, move to Minnesota!

GP: Riiight.

Vincent picks up Alias and goes for a slam. But Alias was ready to come back with some offense of his own. He hits a backwards head butt to Vincent's nose, spins around, knees TV in the midsection and rams an elbow down on his head.

GP: Click, Click Boom.

JT: Saliva!

GP: What?

JT: That's who did the song, isn't it?

GP: That's the move, not the song.

JT: Oh.

Alias runs to the ropes to come back with some momentum and nail Vincent with a bulldog. Alias makes a quick cover.

1...

2…

kick out.

Vincent rolls out to the floor, needing a breather. He jaws with a fan for a moment and as he turns around, he is greeted with a kick to his face. Alias jumps to the floor and grabs hold of Vincent.

GP: Belly to belly on the floor! That's gonna take some life out of Vincent.

JT: Christ man, he didn't shoot him. Drama queen.

GP: You better settle down on this and quick.

JT: I just need some coffee, or something.

GP: It better not be Irish coffee. Whoa, speaking of guns, Alias is hitting Bullets.

Indeed, very fast and hard right elbows are being pounded into the back of Vincent's neck while Alias lifts his knee brutally into Vincent's face. After about 10 times, Vincent collapses to the floor. The Bullets move sends the crowd into a fury of cheers, excited by the offense of the ACW star.

Alias has to drag up Vincent this time and shoves his dead weight into the ring. Alias slides inside and pulls Vincent to the center. Then he takes a very quick look to the crowd, settling on something.

The top turnbuckle.

Alias was on the move and climbing, keep a very close watch on the Sports Entertainment Icon.

DIVE!

DIRECT HIT!

GP: The Glasgow Kiss connects! Vincent is in DEEP trouble now.

Alias with the cover!

1!

2!

THRE-ARM STRAIGHT UP IN THE AIR.

Alias grabs at the back of his head and pushes himself up. Vincent has a little life in him, and Alias was thinking it's time to put it out. Vincent is pulled up again and set up between Alias' legs.

High.

Angle.

Powerbomb.

Pin.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-LAST MILLIMETER KICKOUT BY VINCENT.
        
The crowd roars in cheers, thinking Alias had the win, but a little disappointed he didn't. Alias felt the same way, for sure. Trey Vincent was not an easy person to put away.

But he had an idea how to get rid of him.

The Devil.

Not, not Gunnar Smith, Alias' version of the sharpshooter.

Alias has his foot through, but Trey was fighting it. And hard. He sits up and punches Alias several times. Alias is forced to break the hold and with a burst of energy from who knows where, Vincent is on his feet.

GP: Vincent can go when he wants to. And he's going tonight.

JT: You can't take TV off the air before he wants. And he loves to hog TV time. After all, doesn't TV equal ratings?

GP: So he says.

Vincent whips Alias into the ropes. Overhead spinebuster, the move he calls the Scrub-buster. And Alias is in some hurt again. But Vincent knows that move wouldn't finish it. He wanted another high-impact move.

That move? The Glass Ceiling.

Alias is between his legs, his arms are hooked by Vincent's, and his face plants face-first into the mat. Pedigree.

Vincent shoves him onto his back and makes the cover.

ONE.

TWO!

THREE!

NO!

Somehow, Alias gets his shoulder up. Vincent protests, as he heard the referee's hand hit the mat. The referee can only tell Vincent that the shoulder was up. He isn't gonna argue with the referee. He wants this over, and now.

Vincent waits on Alias to get up, wanting him to use all the energy he can. Alias eventually makes it up.

Only to go back down.

Cliff Hanger. You may know it as a Rock Bottom, or uranage slam. And Vincent hits all of it. Alias was no doubt down for the count now.

But Vincent had one last thing he wanted to hit.

His favorite move, the most outrageous in all of sports entertainment.

The Big Time Fist Drop.

He looks at the crowd and kicks Alias in the head while doing so. He aims a fist down at Alias but then bounces off one side of the ring. The other side. The third side.

But not the fourth side, as his move was supposed to go.

Instead, he finds a boot in his crotch. Alias struggles to get up with what little strength he has left and pounds on Vincent with right punches, eventually sending him into the corner of the ring. He gets behind Vincent and grabs a hold of him by the neck.

Diamond Dust!

It's ALL over.

One!

Two!

THRE-FOOT ON THE MOTHERFUCKING ROPE.

Alias is frustrated beyond frustration now. What did it take to put this guy away. The Phoenix was looking to end the Icon. But what more could he do?

Perhaps his finisher. Anarchy's Lullaby, the Buffalo Sleeper Hold.

He pulls up Vincent and locks in the hold! The chinlock-armbar combination was cinched in. With Diamond Dust just hit, it is a question of if Trey can get to the ropes, break the hold or tap out.

But Alias has the hold cinched it textbook style. Trey can barely move, let alone make it to the ropes. To Vincent, they seem like miles away. The pain, pure anguish. The pressure is immense.

Vincent taps the mat.

He submits!

GP: Alias wins! What a GREAT debut match for Alias! He drops the hold and leaves Vincent writhing in pain on the mat. But Alias isn't moving very far himself. Great opening contest by both men.

JT: I guess I have to give it up to Alias. He beat Vincent, who was in the hunt for the IWO World Title.

GP: Alias wins by submission.

[Winner:Alias]

[one... two.. three... *shoot*]

"How the fuck does paper beat rock!?"

A voice calls out incredulously, rising well above the general din of the backstage area. As our scene opens, we see two figures huddling furiously around a small card table set up in the corner of the large communal "green room". One figure was brandishing a fist; the other, holding his outstretched hand out Nazi-style. The camera closes in to reveal Jack Breaker and Jake Walker, ferociously engaging in a heated Rock-Paper-Scissors battle. A steaming hot cherry pop-tart lay on the table between them. The stakes, it seems, were high.

Jake: Come on, Jack. Paper covers rock. You know that. The whole fuckin' world knows that. It's in the fuckin' BIBLE, for God's sake. Face it. First point goes to me.

Jack seems desperate to weasel his way out of defeat.

Jack: Where does it say that in the Bible? What the fuck kind of bible are you reading? That's sacrilegious, you know. If the Pope were here right now, he'd probably excommunicate you or something.

Jake: Nuts to the Pope. Who does he think he is, walking around with that hat? You know who wears big hats like that? Communists. The Pope is nothing but a red commie, and you can tell him I said that.

Jack: Well, I'll be sure to mention that next time I see him. I talk to the Pope a lot, you know. He's in my book club.

Jake: You're not in a book club. Besides, isn't the Pope some 12-year-old kid from India? What would he be doing in a book club?

Jack: That's the Dahli Llama.

Jake: Don't be stupid. The Pope's not a llama. Now, let's get back to the game. I believe that's one point for me. Best-out-of-three, right?

Jack: You didn't win that point! I'm telling you, there's no way in HELL a piece of paper can beat a rock. It's a fucking ROCK! Sure, you can cover it up, but it'll just burst right through!

Jack demonstrates with his hands, to drive his point home.

Jake: All right, all right. If you're gonna be so bitchy about it, we'll re-do. One... two... three... *shoot!*. Ha! Rock!

Jake stretches out his fist and basks in premature victory.

Jack: Oh yeah? Paper covers rock. Don't you read the Bible?

Jake: But you just said...

Jack: I say a lot of things. Okay, score's one nothing. You'd better get your head in the game, Jakey, or you're gonna be one sad little boy without a pop-tart in a few minutes.

At that moment, Jack's wife Aubrey comes strolling up to the table. Her face took on a playful 'cute puppydog' look as she approaches her husband.

Aubrey: Whatcha doing?

Jack: Quiet, Aubrey. This is important. There was only one pop-tart left at the caterer's table, and Jake thinks he can win it off of me with a fucking rock.

Aubrey: But... doesn't rock bust through paper? I mean, it is a rock.

Jack: Jeez, Aubrey, you too? Paper covers rock. It's in the Bible. What is this, the Protestant Reformation all of a sudden?

Aubrey looks forlorn for a moment, but quickly perks up.

Aubrey: Oh! I know! There's a 7-11 like... two blocks away. We can go buy more pop-tarts! Then everybody will be happy!

Jack: Two whole blocks? Jesus Christ, Aubrey, do I look like a razor scooter to you? Two blocks is like an eternity stretched out horizontally. Besides, I'm in no mood to deal with those price-gouging highway-robbing convenience store scoundrels. They're probably charging like two whole dollars for a box of pop-tarts. This IWO gig is my only job, you know, and they don't pay me that much.

As Jack spiels enthusiastically. Aubrey listens with feigned interest, all the while sneakily nibbling on one corner of the pop-tart in question.

Jake: I think I have two dollars...

Jake rises from the table to search his pockets.

Jack: Woah there, Mr. Rockerfeller. I don't need your charity. I'm perfectly capable of buying my own pop-tarts. It's the principle of the thing. We've got a perfectly good pop-tart right here, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let that go to was... uh... Aubrey? Honey? Where did the pop-tart go?

Aubrey freezes like a deer in the headlights of a Mack truck. She quickly brushes the crumbs from her lips with the back of her hand, and wipes fruit filling off her hand on her jeans.

Aubrey: I haven't seen the pop-tart anywhere.

Jack: Aubrey, is that cherry fruit filling on the corner of your mouth?

Aubrey: No...

Jack: Aubrey?

Aubrey: Well, yeah, but it's not what you think. I had to eat that pop-tart. It was symbolic. Symbolic of... like... don't you have a match you should be getting ready for?

Aubrey is saved. Jack scrambles away frantically to find his sneakers in the crowded locker room. She swallows the remains of the pop-tart and grinns sheepishly.
[hold.your.applause]
Written by Benvenito


As Gold and Glory gets set to continue, little did anybody know that they were in for an uninvited guest. The not so familiar tune of "Better Than You" by Metallica fires up and rings throughout the arena. The tune alone catches the attention of IWO fans, for it was not the music for a "regular" member. All eyes are locked on the entrance ramp.

Out steps a "weasel" like man, no doubt standing well under six feet tall. He wears a pair of black wrestling trunks with "TB" written in gold cursive lettering on the sides. His sleeveless black shirt reads "The A Team" most likely what he had coined himself. As he continues his slow strut to the ring, the back of his shirt reads "Blanchard" much like the shirts coaches make for their high school sport teams. Blanchard slides into the ring, jumping to the top rope to raise his arms into the air, but he receives no response. The fans were most likely thinking, who the hell is this guy?

Apparently their question will soon be answered, as he snatches the microphone from the hand of a ring worker. He grinns obviously pleased with himself, but from what people had seen, when wasn't he? He makes his way around the ring, walking in a circular pattern. He brings the microphone to his mouth, letting out a slight chuckle.

Blanchard: I was just thinking to myself and I realized something. I never noticed how shitty the IWO was.

BOO

Blanchard: Shut your pieholes. When Toby Blanchard speaks, you listen. When Toby Blanchard speaks, you fags listen. All of you are just like my last set of fans, a bunch of selfish pricks who will never accomplish anything. Loyal but selfish. The sad thing is, you probably traveled across the country to see me, for less than 10 minutes. Obviously you didn't make the trip to see anybody else. Who has talent here? KSZ? Ha, not him. Kory Storm? Or Donnie Daze?

"DAZE"

"DAZE"

"DAZE"

Blanchard: You choose Donnie Daze as your secondary hero, behind me? Stupid choice, what credentials does he have? Former IWO Champ or something? He does? Well if Joey Malone can hold that title, than anybody can. Let's all take a visit to the retirement home to find Malone, scrub. "The A Team" speaks what is on his mind, not if feelings are hurt. But back to the IWOers, all of you would like to see me and Daze? Is that what my fans want?

Toby looks around the arena, finding his answer.

Blanchard: For my faithful nerds, I would do anything. Donnie Daze, how about you come out and face me. Step into the ring with Wrestling's Future, The A Team, Toby fucking Blanchard. Stop dreaming about your girlfriend, or ex girlfriend, she's with Cambria now. It'll be a "quickie" the same reason why Amanda left you on live TV.

Blanchard strolls around the ring, waiting for Daze.

Blanchard: I'm waiting Donald.

Blanchard chuckles.

Blanchard: NO SHOW. NO SHOW. Looks like that isn't going to pan out for you guys. I'm sorry that Donna Daze had to let all of you down. But I promise that on the next show, Elks Lodge : Tribute to a Decade of Wrestling, that I will let you all see the spectacle that is Toby Blanchard. While you are all drooling, wondering what I will pull off next, my unlucky opponent will be screaming for me to stop. Because none of you, have ever seen anything like me. And soon, you'll realize you've been watching IWO for too long. But until then, I'm Toby Blanchard, and you're not.

A wave of boos are sent in his direction, but ignored. Toby tosses the microphone into the air, not notifying the ring worker of doing this, which causes the poor guy to be hit in the face. "The A Team" points and laughs, really getting a good rise from what he just did. He slides from the ring, slowly walking to the backstage area, away from his fans.

GP: What is up with that guy ...

JT: Yeah I know, I love him.

GP: Why must you always have things backwards JT?

[cruiserweight.spectacle]
Phil Atken vs. Jake Walker

GP: Well, things are about to pick up…

JT: On-air sex?

GP: No, but close, it's a cruiserweight match, not only that but it features a champion…

JT: The “I Had Sex All Night Long With Your Father” Champion.

GP: Do you ever add anything worthwhile?

JT: I did come close one time, but I ended up shouting BLOOD instead.

GP: Anyway, as I was saying, this bout is going to feature thReat's current Cruiserweight Champion, Phil Atken!

JT: What's a thReat?

GP: Funny you should ask that, as right after this match IWO will actual be host to a thReat contest.

JT: So, thReat can't afford it's own arena?

GP: I have to agree! This night should go down in IWO history.

JT: You're not even listening to me are you?

GP: He'll be facing Jake Walker, IWO's last crusierweight champion in this bout.

JT: Well it might be interesting.

GP: Shut up JT, you're of no use to anyone!

While JT and GP continue to bitch about, whatever they were bitching about, I mean damn it was like two different conversations. Anyway, 'Cyclops Rock' hits the CD player, or whatever the IWO budget can afford, and Jake Walker comes out with some chick. Over to that whore, Whorey McWhatshername

Meygon: Making his way to the ring at this time, from…wait what the fuck does that say? Ice Cream Island? Oh, screw this!

Jake continues his excited dance down to the ring, before sliding in and signaling to the fans, receiving a rather nice pop at the same time.

GP: This should certainly be an interest competition between our last cruiserweight champion, and thReat's current cruiserweight champion.

JT: Is this the title defense?

GP: No, that's later…or so we've been told by thReat HQ, and that's run by a bunch of morons.

JT: Hey! No cheap shots at other companies, that's my job!

'Perfect Strangers' begins to play from the cassette player, or whatever as out came thReat's Crusierweight Champion (Have we hammered that point into your puny mortal skulls yet?) Phil Atken, complete with belt and all comes out from the “backstage” area. Anyone who knows Phil Atken knows fully well he can't start a match before he irritates the hell out of everyone, and tonight as no different.

Phil: Hello to each and every one of you pathetic excuses of human waste!

JT: Oh come on! That's cheap heat at it's finest.

Phil: Of course, I'm Phil Atken, the highest respected, and one of the few men not afraid to admit when the company he's working for is a hellhole. And damn I gotta admit, this place takes the cake for being…

GP: Being what?

JT: Errr, emmm…

Phil: Ah screw it, this low budget as fuck crap hole doesn't deserve my insults.

Phil then strolls down to the ring but Jake doesn't even wait till he is near the ring. Jake runs at Phil and sends him flying to the ground with flying heel kick.

JT: I was about to start liking this guy, but come on he just got taken down by a guy who's now doing the freaking macarena!

Jake is quick to regret dancing as Phil, hardly known for his fair play and honour in the ring, hits Jake with a low blow then DDTs him straight onto to concrete below.

JT: Okay, so maybe I do like this guy.

Phil takes the title from his waist and waits for Jake to stand up, but from behind Aubery snatches it away. Phil starts to go Aubery but from the corner of his eye he sees Jake coming after, he quickly turns around only to be met with a boot in the gut. Jake then throws Phil into the ring.

Ding, Ding

JT: Can we only afford two dings?

GP: Quiet you! So the match begins

JT: Begins to terrify small children?

GP: No…err…umm…just shut up.

Phil rolls over to the nearest ropes and pulls himself up before running straight toward Jake who launches him in the air and lets him drop. Jake then begins to stomp on Phil's head…
JT: We're already at the stomping? Oh for god sake!

GP: This is the greatest stomp in the history of Nitro~~~!

JT: What did you just say?

Satisfied with the damage Jake jumps up on the top turnbuckle, looking to hit some kind in high flying death splash but Phil lunges himself towards the ropes, and we ALL know what happens then.

GP: That's gotta hurt.

JT: Oh nooo, I'm sure it didn't hurt Jake in the slightest. Why don't you say something that isn't obvious?

GP: That was the weakest attempted at sarcasim in the history of Nitro.

JT: This show isn't called Nitro.

GP: Either is your mom.

JT: Eurgh…ugh…that's just so…so wrong on so many levels Parker.

Phil looks over at the straddled Jake and begins to stagger towards him, he hooks Jake's head and looks like he was going to drill Jake's head into the mat, alas Jake grabs onto the ropes and Phil ends up only throwing himself down to the mat. Seeing this as the perfect time to strike Jake nails Phil with a flying leg drop from the second turnbuckle. Jake stands up, picks up Phil and looks to hit the “Time Bomb”, but halfway through the spin Phil reverses it into a hurricanrana that sent Jake flying.

GP: Well that was a nice reversal.

JT: Well duh.

Phil, quick to know he has the advantage picked up the fallen Jake, lifts him up for a suplex only to throw him down hard onto the top rope, Phil then quickly dropkicks the hanging Jake in the back of the head.

GP: He'll fell that in the morning.

JT: At least he has SOMETHING to feel in the morning.

GP: What are you implying?

JT: That you should be shot in the street.

Phil then jumps up on turnbuckle and…
GP: I wonder why he's trying for here.

JT: He's trying for nothing Parker, he's flipping off the fans.

JT was right, as Phil flips off the fans before hopping off the turnbuckle again.

GP: But isn't this just giving Walker time to recover?

JT: I don't give a fuck, I love this Phil guy.

GP: But he hasn't DONE anything!

JT: I don't care!

GP was right though as Jake sneaks up behind Phil and shoves him into the turnbuckle, Phil staggers around only for Jake to hit him with a brainbuster which lays out Phil. He goes for the pin…

1!

2!

3!

3?

No get serious, who loses to a brainbuster nowadays anyway? But Jake isn't one to give up, as he picks up Phil again and drills him down with a spinning powerbomb.

GP: TIME BOMB! TIME BOMB! OH MY GOD TIME BOMB!

JT: Does that move excite you sexually or something?

Jake doesn'tt think that'd be enough though as he positions Phil near the turnbuckle, looking to hit the 'Dark Side of the Moon Sault' but as soon as he jumps Phil quickly rolls out of the way.

JT: It's gonna take more than that to beat a man of Phil's talents.

GP: You had no idea who this guy was when the show started.

JT: Yes, but…err…Phil's great now shut up.

With both men lying on the canvas the referee begins to count both of them out.

1!

2!

3!

4!

5!

Jake begins crawling towards to ropes

6!

7!

Phil still wasn't moving

8!

Jake finally pulls himself up

9!

Jake shoves the referee out of the way and picks Phil up, but was quick to regret it as Phil kicks him straight in the nuts.

JT: And that's how you get the match back on your side.

GP: Has Phil actually done anything in this match other than nut shots?

JT: Sure, he hit a DDT once!

Phil then throws Jake into the ropes and hits Jake with a drop toe-hold which causes Jake to go flying into the mat face first before staggering to the corner to gather himself.

GP: He should stay on the attack if he wants the victory.

JT: I don't think he's in any condition to continue the attack you jackass.

GP: …

JT: That's right, you shaddup you whore.

Phil, feeling he has recovered enough stomps out of the corner and heads towards Jake, who at this point was still on the ground, rolling around clutching his nuts. Phil holds Jake's leg still and stomps on the knee and then quickly drops an elbow on his knee.

GP: I wonder what Phil's trying to do here.

JT: I have NO idea.

GP: Was that sarcasim?

JT: Noooooooooooo.

Phil then continues stomping on the knee before Jake finally gets free and clutches his knee as he rolls in agony. Phil just looks down at Jake, laughing at his pain then grabs his leg and locks on a reverse figure-four.

GP: That's the move that he does! The move that he does!

JT: Do you even know the moves name?

GP: Errr…I'll get back to you on that.

Jake tries to fight it off but reaching the ropes was a lost cost as the Phil had locked on the reverse figure-four in the middle of then ring. After a good twenty seconds of struggling Jake finally taps.

GP: Well he tried, he really tried.

JT: He lost, he really lost. As for this Phil guy, I look forward to seeing more of him.

GP: Then you're indeed a lucky man, as this night is far from over for Phil Atken…

[Winner:Phil Atken]

[interpromotional.match.of.doom]
Written by Colin
Note: This match is simply a copy of the match from thReat. Due to the fact that this is a thReat match, there is no IWO commentary, and it is in a different tense.

thReat's major Payback pay per view event now took a rather different turn in events as it went into a full simulcast live from the origin of IWO's latest show where Phil Atken, the thReat Cruiserweight Champion had already had one match earlier in the night. Now it was time once again for his second match of the night as he would defend that thReat Cruiserweight Championship against the IOW Extreme and Cruiserweight Championships held by Tyler Davidson as he was always so quick to point out to anyone that would listen and even those that wouldn't. Most of the fans at the arena no doubt didn't know a thing about Tyler Davidson and perhaps that would be part of the reason why they actually cheered for him when “Immortal” by Adema began to play throughout the arena.

#Let's fight!#
#We're face to face#
#Loyalty is what I need to see from you#
#Your insecure#
#I can see the fear that breaths in your heart#
#Where will you run, where will you hide#
#I see the blood drip from your eyes#
#Who will survive let's get it on and we'll find#
#I know who you are#
#The leader of lost souls#
#You can't kill me, I'm immortal#
#I'm not afraid to die#
#My soul will travel on#
#You can't kill me I'm immortal, immortal, immortal#


Tyler Davidson emerged from the backstage area along with his manager Daniel Somers and the two of them looked around at the crowd obviously a bit confused by the reaction that they were getting. Tyler as always had his two IOW Championships belts draped over his shoulders before he grabbed one in each hand and raised them both above his head as Somers pointed at Tyler and shouted at the fans that paid him no attention. Tyler finally began to make his way down to the ring still confused at the reaction he got from the crowd before he slid in under the bottom rope and awaited the arrival of his opponent, the champion, and the challenger. That man was now about to make his entrance.

“Deep Purple” by Perfect Strangers could now be heard and the fans reacted immediately.

“Atken Sucks!”
”Atken Sucks!”
”Atken Sucks!”

The fans got on him immediately but Phil Atken as always didn't care one damn bit as he carried his thReat Cruiserweight Championship with him as he slowly emerged from the backstage area. Atken stopped at the entrance and looked around at the crowd with his title in his grasps as the fans continued to chant in his direction about his apparent fondness for oral sex apparently. Atken as always though didn't pay them any attention but tonight it might have been because he was a little too exhausted to really care. Atken had already gone through one match here tonight and now this title defense thanks to Moe Sole would be his second and if Tyler Davidson had anything to say about it, last match. Atken made it down to the ring and he slowly rolled right into the ring under the bottom rope before he got back on his feet and raised the thReat Cruiserweight Title up for all of the IWO fans in attendance and the thReat fans that were watching to see and they responded in kind.

“Atken Sucks!”
”Atken Sucks!”
“Atken Sucks!”

This match has been weeks in the making and Atken tried every trick in the book to get out of it but Moe Sole would have none of it making it clear that he hated both men and arranged this match for the sole purpose of putting them both through hell. It could of course be argued that for the past few weeks Atken has proven himself to be one of the smartest men in the business but even he couldn't find a way out of this match that he knew fully well put him at a distinct disadvantage. Atken now stood in the ring and just smiled and turned around to look at Tyler who was obviously going to be the fans choice in this match and Phil made certain that Tyler got a good long look at the title that these two men have been fighting over for the better part of two months now. Phil finally handed the title over to the official assigned this no disqualification and no countout bout before the bell rang to officially get this match started.
And as was no surprise to most people it was Tyler with weeks of frustration over his inability to get a fair match against Atken that made the first move as he charged right at Atken and apparently caught him by surprise as he took Phil down to the mat with a double leg takedown and quickly climbed on top of him before he began to wail away at him with rights and lefts to the head. The crowd loved it as they watched Tyler pound Atken with right hands while Atken tried his best to cover up from the blows until Tyler relented and got back to his feet. He grabbed hold of Atken immediately though and picked him right back up with him before he let have feel a quick succession of knife edge chops right across the chest as Tyler backed Atken up against the ropes.

Tyler grabbed hold of Atken's arm and went for an irish whip but Atken was quick to reverse the move and sent Tyler into the ropes before he came charging back and Atken took him quickly over with an arm drag takedown and he immediately locked Tyler's arm in an armbar submission. Tyler immediately tried to get back on his feet and alleviate some of the pressure that Atken had on his arm but Atken managed to use his own leverage and forced Tyler right back down onto the mat again but the move had positioned them close enough that Tyler was able to get both of his legs locked around the bottom rope after he hit the mat and forced the break of the hold. Atken however knew full well that he couldn't be disqualified and was in no real hurry to release the hold as he continued to twist the arm of Tyler and apply the pressure. The referee tried his best to convince Atken to release the hold but there wasn't anything he could really do and Atken could keep the hold locked on as long as he wanted which he apparently thought about doing.

With a bit of help from his manager, Daniel Somers, however, Tyler managed to get free of the hold as Somers slipped into the ring in plain sight of Atken as he knew that Atken would relax if not release the hold on Tyler upon seeing him enter the ring and that was exactly what Atken did. His grip loosened on the arm of Tyler who felt it before he again got back onto his feet still somewhat locked into the armbar but with the ropes to assist him this time Atken couldn't force him back down again and Tyler caught him with a right hand straight to the face to break the hold and Somers again slipped back out of the ring having already paid a dividends for Tyler in this match. Atken was still down on the mat from the hard right hand by Tyler and Tyler followed it quickly up as he sprung onto the middle rope and spun in mid air before he brought a leg right down across the throat of Atken and made the cover.
One…………..
Two……………

Atken kicked out! Tyler knew that wasn't going to be enough and while he made the cover in his mind he began to plot out what his next course of action would be as Atken slowly got back onto his feet already looking to be quite a bit weary from all the action he has seen tonight. Atken stood back up and Tyler drove a boot right into his midsection before he grabbed him and lifted Atken right into the air and then brought him slamming down with a sitout powerbomb and another cover.

One……………
Two……………..

And Atken kicked out again! Tyler again got quickly back on his feet and left Atken lying winded on the mat before he began to climb the ropes in the nearest corner to them. Tyler got to the top rope and came off with what would have been a picture perfect moonsault only to see that Atken had rolled out of the way at the last possible second and he came slamming down face first on the mat. Atken now was the one with the advantage and he began to use it as he drove a series of stomps right into the back of Tyler's head before he lifted him up to his knees and draped Tyler throat first across the middle rope. Atken began to press all of his weight down across the back of Tyler and used the ropes to help choke him out before he grabbed onto the top and leapt over the ropes and brought his leg right down across the back of Tyler's head in a move that sent Atken himself falling to the floor.

Atken wasn't hurt from the fall apparently but he was breathing heavily and sweating as he slowly got back onto his feet and reached into the ring to grab hold of Tyler who was on the mat and coughing as he tried to catch his breath. Atken with a handful of Tyler's long hair dragged him out under the bottom rope and left him lying on the mat face up before he drove an elbow right down across Tyler's throat to continue his breathing issues. Atken again grabbed hold of Tyler's hair now and yanked him all the way out of the ring this time before he watched with a grin as Tyler fell to the ground and landed hard on his head. Atken could clearly be seen laughing at the expense of Tyler as he lie on the ground upside down and now with a series of kicks from Atken being driven right into his chest and stomach area. Atken reached down and drove a right hand right into the jaw of Tyler that was enough to finally force Tyler to flop over and land on his stomach and get off of his head as Atken then drove another kick into the back of Tyler just for good measure before he began to walk off.

Atken made his way around the ringside area as he looked back and forth while ignoring the crowd who continued to chant lewd comments in his direction. He found exactly what he was looking for however as he grabbed a steel chair from ringside and folded it up as he turned around and began to walk back towards Tyler who was trying to get back on his feet now. Atken walked back to Tyler with the chair raised above his head before he brought it right down across the back of Tyler.
WHACK!
WHACK!
WHACK!


Atken delivered three solid chair shots right across the back of Tyler and sent him right back down to the ground before he stopped and put the chair down on the ring apron. Atken picked Tyler back up to his feet and this time lifted him up into the air before he walked over to the guard rail and dropped Tyler throat first right across the top of the guard rail and watched as Tyler fell before Atken took a moment to again catch his breath as it was obvious the wear of the two matches tonight was taking its toll on him. It was because of that, that Atken knew he had to end this match soon if he wanted to hold onto his title and deprive Tyler of his two IOW Championships. Atken now went underneath the ring and began to scrounge around for more party favors before he came out with a broom stick in his hands but this time he tossed the broom stick into the ring and lifted Tyler back up to his feet before he rolled Tyler under the bottom rope and back into the ring. Atken hopped up onto the apron and walked to the corner with Tyler still on the mat before he slowly climbed up to the top rope and then came off the top and down across the midsection of Tyler with a frog splash and the cover.

One………………..
Two………………..

Tyler just managed to kick out before the count of three could be made and Atken was not happy about that. Atken got back on his feet and grabbed the broom stick again before he stood back and watched as Tyler slowly got back up as well. As soon as Tyler stood upright Atken swung away with the broom stick but the shot went high over Tyler as he ducked down just in time and caught Atken as he turned around with a side kick right to the face that put him down on the mat and knocked the broom stick loose from his hands. Tyler was still groggy from his fall out of the ring but he saw the stick going fly from the hands of Atken and he quickly made a move to grab it before Atken could get back on his feet. Tyler had the stick in his hands as he got back off the mat and watched as the obviously tired Phil Atken slowly got back onto his feet. Atken turned around and Tyler swung for the fences with the broom stick and there was nothing that Atken could do about it.

CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!


Tyler drilled Atken with three shots right to the ribs with the broom stick before he finished it off with one big hack of a swing right down across the back of Atken's neck that knocked him face first into the mat and Tyler immediately hit the mat right next to him before he locked in the Future Shock on Atken. The pain could be clearly seen on the face of Atken with perhaps a little bit of desperation as well as he needed to find some way to get to the ropes or break this hold in order to hold onto his title. He struggled and struggled as he inched his way closer to the ropes but they were still to far away for Atken to reach and it was obvious he was beginning to fade as Tyler pulled back on the crossface submission and applied all the pressure he could muster. The referee for his part stayed right in the face of Atken and asked constantly if he gave the match up only to be met with a loud scream of “NO!” from Atken each and every time and even Tyler it seemed was getting frustrated with Atken's refusal to quit. With one last ounce of strength Atken, exhausted beyond belief at this point, made another attempt at reaching out for the ropes but his hand fell just short of the bottom rope and he didn't show any signs of moving again as the referee began to check his arm.

He lifted it once and it fell right back down to the mat. The referee lifted it a second time and again it fell right down but that was the last time the referee could do it as Atken surprised Tyler, who had thought the victory was seconds away from being his, and reached out one last time before he finally managed to wrap his hand around the bottom rope to force the breaking of the hold and Tyler reluctantly and slowly obliged but not before causing a little bit more damage to Atken with the hold. Tyler got back onto his feet and kept right on Atken as he drove a series of kicks into his back while he was still down on the mat and trying his damnest to recover from the Future Shock he had just suffered from among other things. Atken showed no signs of getting back on his feet just yet but he remained tied up in the ropes just to make sure there was no chance of Tyler sneaking out a pinfall or submission on him just yet. So Tyler in his mind did what would have been the next best thing for him as he left the ring and began to climb the ropes in the corner.

By the time Tyler had made it to the top rope however, Atken was also back on his feet and he caught Tyler with a right hand straight to the midsection that stalled him on the top rope. Atken climbed onto the middle rope and now stood face to face again with Tyler before he went for another right hand that Tyler blocked and fired back with one his own that would have knocked Atken off the ropes had Tyler not caught him and held him up so he could position him quickly for a super powerbomb but Atken was a step ahead of Tyler again and caught him with a low blow before Tyler could do anything. Atken stood upright again and grabbed Tyler in a front facelock before he pulled him off the top rope and drove him head first into the mat with a DDT. The match would certainly have been over right then and there except for the fact that the move had apparently taken what little energy Atken had left in him to pull off and he too laid flat on his back on the mat.

There had to be a winner in this match though and for that reason the referee could do nothing but sit back and watch both men remain lying on the mat until Atken finally began to move again and he crawled slowly on top of Tyler for the cover.

One………………
………….
Two……………….
………….
Thre………….
…………NO!

Tyler had at the absolutely last possible second gotten his shoulder up off the mat to the shock and perhaps dismay of Phil Atken who couldn't even bring himself back up to his feet again without a lot of work. Atken finally got back onto his feet again but that didn't last long as Daniel Somers had slipped into the ring unseen by Atken and with the thReat Cruiserweight Title in his hands before he leapt at Atken and slammed the belt right across his forehead with all the strength he could muster and it was enough to knock Atken right back down to the mat and out of it as Tyler slowly began to try and get back on his feet. It was the ropes that helped Tyler the most as he got back onto his feet and he saw that Atken was out on the mat and the referee was busy yelling at Somers, who was still in the ring with the Cruiserweight Title still in his hands for his interference, and it didn't take Tyler long to figure out just what the hell had happened.

He reached down and grabbed hold of Atken before he pulled him up to a kneeling position and put Atken's head in between his legs and lifted him into the air for a cradle piledriver. Tyler held Atken upside down for a few seconds to allow the blood to rush down to his head before he did as big a spin in the air as he could and brought Atken head first into the mat with the Time Spike and he made the cover. It was Somers who pointed the cover out to the referee who turned in time to see it and having nothing else he could do about the situation made the count.

One……………….
……………
Two………………….
……………….
Three!

And the fans actually cheered Tyler's victory just happy to know that Phil Atken had finally gotten what many of them thought he deserved. Tyler for his part was helped back to his feet by Somers who had already grabbed Tyler's two IOW Titles and handed him all three belts at one time as he celebrated around Tyler who it seemed was far to tired and shaken up to do much celebrating at the moment. All that mattered to him was that he had finally gotten his somewhat fair, though unfair, shot at the Cruiserweight Title and he had succeeded despite an incredible fight that was put up by the extremely exhausted Phil Atken who Tyler had no doubt not seen the last of just yet.


[winner and new thReat CW Champion:Tyler Davidson]

[choosing.satisfaction]
Written by Aaron

The camera cuts to the backstage area of Gold & Glory – more specifically, Tom Ford's temporary office, where he is sitting behind a desk and looking his usual somewhat worried self. At the moment Ford is leaning over some papers, and actually seems on the verge of nodding off, when a shadow falls over him and causes the CEO to look up, which almost immediately creates a sour expression on his face at the sight of the Hardcore God. The God is flanked by his customary midget, who has his arms crossed and is attempting to look as imposing as his master.

H-God : You asked to see the God, Ford? It had best be for a good reason, as He does not even have to be here, seeing as no mortal dared face Him tonight.

Ford's look becomes a bit more exasperated.

Ford : You don't have a match tonight, “H-God,” because no one wanted to work with a psycho like you after what you did to Dan at Beach Party. Speaking of which, I should fire your ass right now for attempted murder on one of my talent!

H-God : There is no way the word “talent” should be in any way associated with that pathetic wretch.

Ford : (Smirking) Yeah, you're real hilarious. I thought you weren't even supposed to have a sense of humor.

H-God : It is irrelevant what you think of the God, mortal- that is, Mr. Ford. His behavior would naturally seem as incomprehensible to you as your would be to an insect or vermin.

Ford's look changes to a scowl.

Ford : Whatever you may think of me and other “mortals,” I'm still your boss, which means you have to listen to what I say. And at Beach Party, you completely ignored my orders not to lay a hand on HardCase.

H-God : You offered the God a choice, and He chose satisfaction then instead of a match later. Besides, technically, the God did follow your request. He does not recall ever laying one of His hands on the blasphemer, but merely His kendo stick.

The God now flashes a slight smile of his own, obviously very pleased with his cleverness.

Ford : (Rolls his eyes) More humor from the stone-faced God. You know, I'm getting pretty sick of this whole thing between you and Hardcase. It's got to end soon. So, despite what I said last time, at our next show, you will be booked in a match against HardCase.

This causes the God's smile to deepen.

H-God : Excellent. He is pleased to see you come around and make the right choice, Ford. Even mortals such as you can see the light sometimes.

Ford returns this with a tight-lipped smile of his own.

Ford : And in a real treat for the fans, you'll be facing him in a technical exhibition. Any cheating on your part will result in a disqualification, after which you will be banned from ever fighting HardCase again under penalty of expulsion from IWO.

The God's expression goes blank at this unexpected news from Ford. As he struggles to find the words to begin an indignant rant, Ford thrusts a finger at the midget standing next to him.

Ford : And any and all of THOSE will be barred from ringside. Any appearance by any little follower of yours will also result in immediate disqualification.

The God sputters some more at this, before angrily blurting out the only phrase he can think of.

H-God : Fine, see if He cares!

H-God whirls on his heel after this surprisingly childish remark and storms out of the room, his midget rushing after him.

[tag.match]
Kory Storm & Hurley Cambria vs. Donnie Daze & Jamal Wilson
Written by JCS

JUMP DA FUCK UP!

The crowd erupts in a fit of hatred as “Jump Da Fuck Up” by Soulfly kicks triumphantly into the loudspeakers.

Chris Astro stands in the center of the ring, patiently waiting to introduce the man who not only accompanies the brash and curse heavy music, but is also despised by most if not all IWO fans.

CA: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is a tag team contest!

CA: Coming to the ring first! Standing tall at six feet seven inches and weighing in at a whopping two hundred and seventy six pounds! From San Diego, California! “Perfection Personified”! KORY STOOOOOOOORM!

Almost in sync with Astro's introduction, Kory Storm proudly marches through the curtain and meets yet another audience, much to their disdain.

He smirks conceitedly and raises his arms high in the air before beginning his walk down to the ring, desperately trying to avoid wads of spit and trash as he makes his way to the squared circle.

Climbing in, Storm lifts a certain finger, showing the Pennsylvania bred crowd just what he thinks of them, and then walks to his corner, waiting for his partner.

GP: Look at Kory Storm, JT! So athletic! So charismatic! So…

JT: …Conceited?

GP: That wasn't exactly the word I was looking for.

JT: Do you honestly think I care?

GP: You should.

Parker sighs into his headset as “Maybe Memories” by The Used loudly replaces “Jump Da Fuck Up”, telling the fans and Storm that he won't have to wait for his assigned partner, Hurley Cambria, much longer.

CA: And his partner! Coming out of Port St. Lucie, Florida! The master of the Inverted Face Buster! “The Bad Star”! HURLEY CAMBRIAAAAA!

Cambria rushes through the curtain and wastes no time getting to the ring, completely skipping over the posing, primping, and riling of the crowd that Storm excels at.

He climbs into the ring and stands face to face with Kory Storm who, like it or not, he will have to work with tonight.

GP: Cambria obviously doesn't want to tag with Kory here tonight.

JT: I don't blame him, but he'll have to if he wants to get that ever so important win over rival and fellow Action! Wrestling member Donnie Daze.
Chris Astro raises his microphone to his lips and looks as if he's getting ready to introduce the next competitor, but is interrupted by Kory Storm, who snatches the microphone right out of his hands.

Kory Storm: Listen here you filthy little peon.

Storm walks over to Cambria and gets incredibly close to the much smaller wrestler, looking down at him as he speaks.

KS: I know you don't want to do this tonight and let me tell you the honest to God truth; I'm not thrilled about working with a punk like you either. However, I'm willing to do it in order to beat the living hell out of Jamal Wilson!

GP: Sounds like things between Jamal Wilson and Kory Storm have been heating up since we last saw them, JT!

JT: You think?

KS: So what do you say to it Furley? That is your name isn't it?

Hurley Cambria grabs the microphone from Storm.

Hurley Cambria: Actually Kory, it's Hurl…

KS: Whatever. Are you with me or not?

Storm extends his hand, which Cambria reluctantly stares at.

HC: Yes…

He takes Storm's hand and tightly shakes it, showing Kory that he isn't as much of a punk as he likes to think.

Kory Storm snatches his hand back and smiles devilishly.

KS: Heh. Super…

He continues to smile, no doubt planning some big scheme in his head, and tosses the microphone to Astro as he does so.

KS: Here you are monkey.

Chris Astro scowls as Storm and Cambria saunter to their corner and begin to talk strategy.

Queue “It's Raining Men” by the Weather Girls.

CA: On his way to the ring…

The fans switch from cheering to booing as the disco anthem continues to blare throughout the makeshift arena.

CA: …A man so popular that he needs no introduction, but that will get one anyway because I don't get paid if I don't do it! “The Hardcore Homo”! JAMAL WILLLLLSON!
Wilson, almost in sync with Astro's introduction, rushes through the curtain and promptly begins skipping down the wooden ramp way.

Many of the fans at ringside extend their hands to Wilson, who rejects them happily due to his hands already being busy throwing…something.

GP: What is that he's throwing?

JT: It looks like…glitter?

Greg Parker sighs.

GP: Is this what wrestling is coming to? I mean, it's bad enough that we have a gay wrestler. Why do we need one that's throwing glitter at our fans?

JT: You better watch what you say, Greg. Those GLAAD people will come down harder on you then they did on Vanilla Ice.

GP: Don't you mean Eminem?

JT: Vanilla…M&M…they're both sweets. Same difference.

Wilson skips around the ring until all of his glitter has been thrown and then jumps energetically onto the apron, blowing a kiss at Storm as he climbs through the ropes.

He struts sexily to his corner as “It's Raining Men” finally dies down, replaced by Thursday's “Jet Black New Year”.

CA: And his partner! Also from Port St. Lucie, Florida! Current Action! Wrestling roster member and former IWO World Heavyweight Champion! DONNIE DAAAAAAAAAZE!

The spotlight shines on the entrance stage as Donnie Daze's theme song continues to blast through the arena's speakers.

Daze, however, is conspicuously absent.

As the referee and fans look on in confusion, it all becomes clear as a smiling Donnie Daze hops over the outside guardrail and stands ominously behind his smug looking rival, Hurley Cambria.

Daze grabs Hurley's legs and sends the Action! superstar flying off of the apron, smacking his head on the canvas as he falls.

This distraction gives Jamal Wilson an opening, sending the African-American star flying toward his enemy, Kory Storm.

GP: It's pandemonium already and the bell hasn't even rung!

JT: Of course it is! These men hate each other! A ring could never contain that kind of animosity.

Daze and Cambria brawl angrily on the outside, each trying to get the upper hand by throwing punches and kicks at the other.

Cambria manages to drive his foot swiftly into Donnie's stomach, allowing him to land a perfect DDT on the mats that were positioned at ringside.

GP: Jesus Christ! That was one hell of a DDT!

Meanwhile, Storm is punishing Wilson in the corner of the ring, laying hard chops onto his chest and smashing his shoulder into Wilson's ribcage.

Kory performs the rib smash once more, hitting Wilson so hard that he can barely stand after escaping the turnbuckle's grip and causing “The Hardcore Homo” to stumble around the ring dazed and confused.

Storm wastes no time in capitalizing on this situation, picking up the much smaller Jamal Wilson and positioning him for a Gorilla Press, lifting him high into the air for all to see, and throwing him directly over the ropes, sending the former PIW United States Champion plummeting to the ringside area.

As Kory does this, Hurley Cambria picks up the lifeless Donnie Daze and rolls him into the ring, climbing onto the apron and standing tall in his tandem's corner.

The bell then rings, signifying that the actual match has begun and that Kory Storm and the seemingly hurt Donnie are the legal men.

JT: Here we go folks! It's on like neckbone!

GP: Right. Since when did Booker T become my announce partner?

As the announces bicker, Storm strides over to the broken Daze and begins putting the boots to him, stomping on his midsection multiple times and not stopping, laughing sickly as he does so.

Hurley Cambria, his partner, laughs with him, their giggles mocking Donnie Daze, who screams for help as Storm continues to drive his foot into Daze's stomach and ribcage.

Wilson, who lies panting at ringside, struggles to get up and finally does, rushing into the ring to try to save his partner.

Jamal runs at Storm with an enraged look on his face, but the referee steps in and pushes Jamal Wilson to his corner, where the unforgiving turnbuckle he was previously slammed against by Storm waits in anticipation of his arrival.

Storm lays a final boot into Daze's upper body and poses for the crowd, smirking at the havoc he has caused in the match's opening moments.

Daze simply rolls around on the mat in pain, unable to stand, blood dripping from his mouth due to the beating his innards took at the hands, or feet rather, of Kory Storm.

Cambria reaches over the top rope and allows Storm, who looks to be everything but tired, to tag him.

JT: Hurley Cambria is the legal man now, along with arch-rival Donnie Daze!

GP: These two have had a storied past, JT. What kind of impact do you think that history will have on this match-up?
JT: A tremendous one.

GP: That's it? That's all you have to say.

JT: Yep.

GP: Super.

Cambria doesn't go for Daze immediately, choosing to heckle the crowd instead.

However, as Daze slowly but surely gets to his feet, that move proves to be one that Hurley will regret.

Donnie creeps up behind Cambria and taps his shoulder, prompting the superstar from Port St. Lucie to turn around and walk directly into a dropkick which sends him flying over the ropes.

Daze stares a hole into the fallen Cambria, slowly walking backwards to his corner and tagging in Jamal Wilson, who is raring to go.

Wilson runs against the ropes and runs toward the side of the ring that Cambria is laid out at, catapulting himself over the ropes and performing a perfectly executed guillotine leg drop.

Cambria bounces up from the impact, writhing in pain as Wilson runs around the ring, basking in the glory that the fans are giving him following the aerial display he just put on.

GP: That was one hell of a high risk maneuver.

JT: Yeah, but I doubt Hurley Cambria would agree.

The referee is anything but in awe though and starts counting loudly so that both superstars can hear him.

Referee: One!

Jamal looks up at the referee and raises his eyebrows, a wide smile on his face, and climbs onto the apron, stopping the count.

For some odd reason, he doesn't get into the ring.

Instead, he takes a look behind him, making sure that Cambria is still there and jumps off of the middle rope.

JT: Asai Moonsault!!!

Cambria, however, was prepared and rolls out of the way, causing Jamal Wilson to smack the floor fiercely.

Hurley Cambria then hops up and rolls into the ring, smiling evilly.

Daze, who is illegally in the ring, is there to greet him regardless and decks him with an incredible clothesline.

Cambria falls backwards quickly, his neck and back connecting disgustingly with the canvas.
Daze towers over Hurley and mounts him, punching him in the face over and over again until he draws blood, which drips dark red every time his black heart beats.

Donnie slaps Hurley Cambria across his face for good measure, in a severe showing of disrespect that the fans eat up like fat kids eat cake, and stands up, allowing Cambria's head to fall flat and somewhat unconscious onto the mat.

Daze then goes for the cover.

ONE!

The fans are up in their seats, chanting loudly and counting along with the referee. This is what they've wanted to see since the match began.

TWO!

They continue to cheer as the referee slaps his hand against the canvas once more.

THR—

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Storm runs into the ring and plants his elbow across Donnie Daze's back, interrupting the count.

The crowd begins to wildly boo Storm, who responds in turn by lifting his middle finger and smashing into Daze's sternum with yet another elbow drop.

Hurley Cambria, meanwhile, stands up and motions to Storm, telling 'Perfection Personified' without even using his words that he wants to finish off Daze alone.

Storm scowls, but does as he's asked and climbs over the ropes yet again, standing in his tandem's corner and patiently waiting for his chance to get into the mix.

Cambria picks Daze up and allows his fellow Action! Wrestling superstar to stumble a bit before stepping behind him and setting him up for his patented finisher, Dazeja Vu.

Yet, as the fans become irate at the sight of their former IWO Heavyweight Champion about to get his face planted into the canvas, it seems as if the three men in the ring had forgotten about the fourth.

JT: LOOK AT JAMAL WILSON! He's on the top rope!

GP: He's gonna fly!!!

Wilson winks as he positions himself on the top rope, confidence literally oozing out of his pores along with the sweat that is common on every wrestler's body.

In a tremendous exhibition of his aerial prowess, Wilson springboards off of the top rope and crashes into Cambria, and a little bit of Daze, with a beautiful looking, but not so beautiful feeling dropkick.

Cambria and Daze both fall backwards at the same time, Wilson standing triumphantly in the middle of the ring as they lay there in pain.

However, they aren't hurt enough to keep themselves from hating each other and start to roll around the ring, brawling as if there was no tomorrow.

They finally roll completely out of the ring and begin scuffling outside of the ring, leaving Kory Storm and Jamal Wilson in the ring together.

GP: It's on now!

Storm and Wilson, the unofficial legal men, begin to circle around each other, their eyes locked on one another's.

Finally, in a culmination of sorts, they lock up, each man struggling for leverage.

Kory Storm gets it and tosses Jamal against the ropes, sending Wilson running back at him in seconds flat.

Storm reaches around Jamal's small body and throws him over his head with a Belly-to-Belly Suplex and looks exceedingly cocky about its results, but neglects to realize that Wilson has landed on his feet.

Storm turns around and his jaw drops, no doubt surprised about Jamal Wilson standing tall before him.

Wilson capitalizes on his shock and jumps up, attaching himself to Storm's shoulders and bringing the massive WWC wrestler down with a Huricanrana.

Wilson bridges the maneuver and covers his nemesis.

ONE!

The fans became on edge again, hoping to God that Wilson would pull out the victory and beat Storm for the second straight IWO show in a row.

TWO!

Daze and Cambria continue to brawl on the outside, settling their differences as the referee lifts his hand from the canvas and looks to bring it down once more.

THREE!

And once again, the good guys had won and the match was over.

“It's Raining Men” plays once again over the loudspeakers, this time bringing new meaning to the song.

Not only is it a homosexual anthem or the one thing that signifies Jamal Wilson's entrance into arenas across the country.

No, it meant victory.

[winners:Donnie Daze & Jamal Wilson]

[30.minutes.heavyweight.title]
Keith Scott Zimmerman vs. HardCase vs. Jack Breaker vs. Schitzo Tod
Written by Ford

GP: Well, this should be a classic.

JT: Why? You have one guy who hits people with fish, another who's a drunk, another who tries to kill the people who he's in the ring with, and finally, a man who could carry a toothpick to a three star match.

GP: Well, I think these guys are better than a toothpick.

JT: Well, a toothpick can't resist what KSZ plans. These guys can.

GP: Whatever the case, HardCase is a true Heavyweight contender, winning that championship last July at this very event. Shortly after, the promotion ran into financial problems and now, we restart while trying to recrown a new champion. HardCase however, believes he shouldn't have to go through this tournament, and the belt should just be handed to him.

JT: As it SHOULD! He never lost it! It's not HIS fault his paychecks stopped.

GP: Schitzo Tod is a former IWO Heavyweight champion, holding the belt for six weeks. He's also one of the three Grand Slam champions the promotion had, defeating Erik Blake for the North American Championship before dropping the belt to become, theoretically, the final champion of that belt itself.

JT: Which is a shame. I mean, Tod as the last champion for that title? After so many worthy wrestlers before him?

GP: Keith Scott Zimmerman is one of the greatest Action! wrestlers to date. He's become a name for the promotion, carrying the banner as a true and blue wrestler. He could be the favorite, not only to win the match, but in general. However, with his arrogant attitude and manipulation of the wrestling industry, he's become anything but liked by his peers. Then again, here in the IWO, where we are stressing wrestling, he seems to get more cheers than he does in Action!

JT: That's because there are a lot of smarter fans here than before. I mean, they see talent, they CHEER for talent. I can't ACTUALLY believe I'm saying these fans are smart!

GP: And finally, Jack Breaker, the winner of the last May Mayhem match and one of the most decorated tag team champions ever. Breaker also is probably one of the most charismatic wrestlers to ever step foot in the IWO ring!

JT: Charismatic? You call being insane charismatic?

“Date Rape” by Sublime plays over the pa system as out from the back saunters Schitzo Tod. And I when I say saunter, I mean stumble. He falls into the guardrail almost immediately after the fans pop huge, and lands with a thud on the ground.

The fans gasps echo throughout the arena as immediately, Jax Stone and Jordan Hewitt, two of the IWO's road agents, pick Tod up and drag him backstage.

GP: Well, that was…

JT: Unexpected?

GP: I think that's an understatement. I'm… I've been in the IWO for a long time, and I've seen a lot of things, but I've never seen something like that…

Cut backstage, where Jax Stone and Hewitt are carrying Tod. Ford is there, looking quite frantic, as they take him into the nearest car.

Ford: Oh God, what happened?

Jax: I don't know. He just fell, he just passed out.

Ford: Listen, I've got to head to the hospital, I've got to help him.

Ford climbs into the car that Stone and Hewitt loaded Tod into, and looks out the driver's side door.

Ford: FIX this Jax. Please.

And with that, Ford drives away with his foot to the peddle.

Jax: … I guess we need to figure something out. Quick, gimme a roll of who's here, and send someone out.

[killing.time]
Written by Doug

Jordan Hewitt is sweating backstage, with a clipboard in his hands, talking on a walky talker. Jax Stone is still there as well, as they seem to be talking to Ford.

Jordan Hewitt: Ford, this break is killing the fans. They have really short attention spans and we're losing them!

Jax Stone: I told you not to give away free tickets to the National Society for ADD Research!

Tom Ford: I'm sorry! No one else could come and what was I going to do? Tape a show distributed on DVD without asses in the seats? You want me to make little cardboard cut outs of fans and place them in the fans and have electric pullies raising and lowering their arms sporadically?

Jordan Hewitt: Oh, like a video game!

Ford: This was a classic WCW move, Jax. They did it all the time during their era of shit.

Jax Stone: Well, "boring" chats are breaking out from my vantage point.

Ford: Then you can do their job and send someone out there to kill some time...

Jax: Who?! The only people near me are refs and backstage agents...

From a box labeled "FRAGILE" appears Dolby Jenkins, fresh off his religious experience in the green pastures, as described in "Pagan Sky". Check it out. Wink, wink.

Dolby: HELLLLLLOOOOOOOO, TOMPON!

Tom Ford: Oh...god... Is that who I think it is?

Jax: I'm afraid so.

Dolby roughly puts Jax on the back, who then chokes a small bit. Ford talks to Dolby through the machine.

Dolby: HOW YA DOIN' OLD BUDDY?!?!

Tom Ford: Listen, shut up and do me a favor.

Dolby: Anything, sir.

Dolby gives him a military salute...

Tom Ford: Haul your ass to the ring and keep them busy for a while.

Dolby: Do what?! What do I say?! A...live crowd? Out...there?!

Tom Ford: I'm pretty sure most of them are dead now.

Dolby: With...people...

Tom knew of Dolby's stage fright. In fact, Dolby had never even been inside of a wrestling ring. Heck, if he could ride around in tanks all spring, we could forget about his stage fright in his 2nd grade performance of Jesus Christ Superstar, in which he played Jesus and fell from his crucifix then got up and did a little gig, right?

Tom Ford: GO DOLBY! FOR THE GOOD OF YOUR NATION!

Dolby: O...oh....kay.

Dolby musters up enough courage to take one from the team. So here is his debut...killing time for the boss. He can do that, he thought. He doesn't waste time, as he runs to the curtain, takes a deep breath and clinches his fists. This is nothing. He had already seen his own hell...let's give this audience hell. And so it is, leaping through the curtain, microphone in hand, wearing designer black khakis, black sunglasses, and even a black mesh shirt like the old Christian attire. He looks like Neo on acid, even. His dirty blonde is wet, pouring water Triple H style all over his head and mouth, then spitting it out, an obvious shot to The Game's ego. He looks rather charismatic, but appears like a comedian doing his first set of stand-up. He is discernibly nervous, the crowd doesn't react much, though a few applaud after recognizing him from his Beach Party hijinks.

Dolby: Ummm...hi. I'm...uh...

Dolby clears his throat, while noticing a small cult follower in the back row with "I FEEL YOUR PAIN, DOLBY!" written on a sign hold together by seven cultists. A smile emerges...

Dolby: Thank you, thank you. You...you know I grew up not even an hour away...FROM GOOD OL' PHIL-A-DEEEEEL-PHIAAAAAA!

Cheap pop...Dolby has them hooked.

Dolby: Yeah, that's right. Uhhh...Mr. Ford told me to kill some time...I'm really...unprepared but I'll do my best to disturb you less than A HEART TO HEART CONVERSATION WITH MIKE RENNER!

The joke flies over the ADD crowd's head. Everyone loves Mike Renner. Duh.

Dolby: Ummm...

Pulls out an index card and reads from it. It appears to be a rap...

Dolby: I saw John Cena do this on WWE TV and apparently this guy from IWO, Dante Jackoff or something thinks he can rap too. Can I get a beat please?

The ADD section tries to make a beat and fails, so Dolby calls for extra help. A midget dressed as Dante Jackson and a midget dressed as 50 Cent come out holding hands. They make a snazzy little beat for the Dolbmeister...

Dolby: Yo..yo...Philly...feel me? Dolby Cent up in dis. This goes out to all my thugz representin' over in the Middle East. YO, FUCK KILLIN'! YA HEARD! WORD LIFE! This is a song down by...THE NWA! WAAAAAAA! Here we go...

Dolby's whiteness in full effect, he tries to rap...

Dolby: FUCK THA POLICE COMIN' ST8T FROM DA UNDERGROUND! YOUNG WIGGA GOT IT BAD CUZ I'M BROWN! AND NOT DA OTHER COLOR SO POLICE THINK THEY HAVE DA AUTHORITY TO KILL A MINORITY! FUCK THAT SHIT, CUZ I AIN'T THA ONE FOR A PUNK MUTHAFUCKA WITH A BADGE AND GUN TO BE BEATIN' ON! AND THROWN IN JAIL, WE COULD GO TOE 2 TOE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CEEEEELLL!!!

The midgets pass out and Dolby breaks out into a dorty a capella version of "Fuck Tha Police", but the crowd still eats it up.

Dolby: Fucking with me because I'm bit of gold and a pager? Searching my car, looking for the product, thinking every wigga is selling narcotics. You'd rather see me in the pen then me and Lorenzo rolling in the Benzo.

Dolby takes a deep breath, chugs more water and yells out...

Dolby: WORD LIFE, YA HEARD!

Then in a fit of his own gangstaness, slams a 25,000 mic into the ground, does a spinarooni then flees to the backstage area where he is greeted by Jax.

Jax: ...what the hell was that?

Dolby: I...maybe I got a little carried away.

Tom Ford(Through the walkie talkie): Whatever it was...I LIKED IT!

Dolby & Jax & Hewitt: REALLY?!

Tom Ford: Sure, kid.

Fade to a still image of the midget Dante Jackson and the midget 50 Cent dressed as Matt Damon and Ben Affleck cuddling on the couch.

[killing.more.time]
Written by Aaron

The camera cuts to the backstage area, where Chris Astro is standing with a microphone, looking pretty nervous. The reason for this might be that the Hardcore God is standing next to him and giving him the Arnold Schwartznegger glare from True Lies – you know the one I'm talking about! Astro glances over at the God, then back at the camera and holds the microphone up.

Astro : (Stammering) I'm h-here with the Hardcore Go-God, who has for some r-reason requested an in-in-interview with me, and- Oh, please, don't hurt me! I'm fragile!

Disgusted, the Hardcore God snatches the microphone away from Astro, quickly smacks him across the face, and shoves him off camera. The God then faces the camera and begins a diatribe.

H-God : HardCase, you're probably laughing to yourself like the foolish mortal you are, thinking that you've got the God right where you want Him next week. Well, He's got a nasty surprise in store for you when you step into the right with the God Himself next week. For He is not only the Lord of all that is hardcore, but is also a master technician, with five black belts in … technecianese. He is the finest wrestler in all existence, and HardCase shall learn that the painful, excruciating way when GAHHH!

The Hardcore God stumbles away from the vicious chairshot that just connected with the side of his head, complements of HardCase. The Innovator of Wrongness lifts the now dented chair to bring down on the God's head again, but pauses when he feels H-God's midget connect across his back with a kendo stick. Of course, seeing as HardCase is one of the toughest wrestlers in the IWO or probably even the world, and the God's midget isn't too muscle-bound, all the shot does is give HardCase pause before he jacks the midget in the face with a sidekick, quite knocking the little guy out. He turns back to continue the attack, but is suddenly tackled into the wall by his opponent. The Hardcore God headbutts HardCase in the face a couple times, then whips the former World champion into a nearby bench. HardCase takes it à la Mick Foley with steel steps, running into the bench knees-first and flipping over it. H-God retrieves his kendo stick from where his midget drops it and strides over to where HardCase is laying, clutching his knees and in obvious pain. The God lifts his stick to bring down on his hated foe's crotch, but HardCase quits playing possum and shoves the bench into the God's legs with his feet. H-God falls over the bench right into the waiting HardCase, who rolls him over and begins pummeling the God with his fists. He then raises the God's head and slams it three times into the hard wooden bench, busting open the self-proclaimed deity's nose. HardCase rises to his feet and swiftly kicks H-God in the throat. The God rolls away from the bench and attempts to crawl to his feet, making gurgling noises and grabbing his throat. HardCase then approaches the God from behind, measures him up, and delivers with a direct punt to the no-no special place. God or no god, the lord of hardcore's eyes bug out as he emits a soundless croak and collapses to the ground. HardCase walks over to the God's head and looks down at him, shaking his head.

HardCase : Hey, wish me luck in my title match, buddy.

HardCase walks away, snickering to himself.

[30.minutes.heavyweight.title]
Keith Scott Zimmerman vs. HardCase vs. Jack Breaker vs. n/a
Written by Ford

GP: Well folks, with the loose ends tied up, and our well wishes sent to a hopefully recovered Schitzo Tod, lets get right back into the swing of things here at Gold and Glory, and crown our first champion.

JT: I could make some tasteless joke, but I won't.

GP: I thought that's what we paid you to do? Now you won't even do your job?

“Main Offender” by the Hives plays over the pa system as the fans turn their attention toward the entrance way. Out from the back walks Keith Scott Zimmerman, hands raised to the mysterious double standard he was receiving from the crowd. Some are cheering him for being a true workrate God, while others are still booing him for his actions in, well, Action! wrestling. He climbs into the ring, dusts off his boots and awaits the next competitor. He seems to be all business tonight, still dressing in tribute to the late Curt Henning.

Meygon: This match, is scheduled for a thirty minute time limit, and it is under the confines of an Iron Man Match! Introducing first, from Action! wrestling, and weighing in at one hundred and sixty three pounds. He is the Whole Workrate Show, the NEW Ratings Draw… do we even have ratings? Whatever. He's Keith, Scott Zimmerman!

Zimmerman raises his hands once more, before swatting his gum into the hair of a ten year old girl who sat front row.

“Bad News” by 50 Cent plays over the pa system now, which, if it was the censored version, would probably just be one long beep. I dunno, I've never heard it. Whatever the case, HardCase walks out from the back, parting the curtains with a cocky grin. But something about him is off. It's as if he had lost something. Whatever the case, the fans show their appreciation for his talents by booing the ever living hell out of him.

He chooses not to climb into the ring, awaiting out the outside at the top of the aisle, arms crossed.

Meygon: And one of his opponents, hailing from Queens, New York. He weighs in tonight at two hundred and forty three pounds, and is the Innovator of Wrongness(somewhere, John Caroll sues us), he is a former IWO Heavyweight Champion, here is, HARDCASE!

“Cyclops Rock” by They Might be Giants plays over the pa system as the fans turn their boos into whole hearted cheers. Jack Breaker comes out from the back, with a large trout in his hands, and Aubrey by his side. When Jack sees HardCase standing before him, he tells Aubrey to get to the back, because things are “fishy.” She complies, as Jack slowly makes his way down toward the ring. HardCase doesn't take his stare away from Jack, as Jack slowly and calmly circles around the guardrail and winds up being inches away from HardCase's face. Nothing seems to happen however, as both men go their separate ways, and climb into the ring.

Meygon: And, well, I guess the third and final opponent, he hails from Sandusky Ohio…. Now really, is that even a real town? Oh, it is? Whoops. Sorry people from Sandusky! Anyway, he weighs in tonight at two hundred and sixty pounds, and is… okay, I know NO ONE calls you Skittles the freakin' clown!

Jack shrugs his shoulders.

Meygon: Here is the 2002 May Mayhem Winner, Jack BREAKER!

Jack waves his fish around in the air like a lasso, before placing it down in a supersized can by his feet in the corner of the ring. Each man looks at the other, sizing up the situation.

GP: Well, normally I'd say someone the size of Keith Scott Zimmerman is at a disadvantage, but in the confines of an Iron Man Match, the smaller bodies can usually go the longer paces.

JT: Oh, sure it helps, but it really matters if you're in shape or not.

GP: Which Zimmerman is, without a doubt. HardCase on the other hand? I don't think making dvd's of how to kill people keeps you in tip top physical condition.

JT: What? You have to be stronger and faster than the person you kill, don't you? Survival of the bloody fittest.

GP deadpans.

GP: That English accent was dead on.

JT: Really?

That's when…

“Idioteque” by Radiohead plays over the pa speakers, and the fans go an even mixture of cheers and anger.

He walks out from the backstage, he raises his hands, sledgehammer free, to the crowd, who cheer for the most part for a hometown villain. That's when Dolby Jenkins races out from the backstage area, clocking Flyer with a rattan cane, echoing out like a Singapore.

GP: What the hell is Dolby doing out here again?!?

JT: God I love nachos.

GP: What does that have to do with this!

JT: Well, it's better than this.

Dolby lays in with numerous shots to a fallen Flyer, as Jax and Jordan Hewitt race out from the backstage area, grabbing Dolby by his arms and dragging him away.

Dolby: You Commie! I'm supposed to be out there! My killing time segment RULED!

Dolby's pulled completely backstage, as Flyer returns to his feet, shaking off the effects and slowly climbs up onto his apron.

All four men are on the apron now, and that means that two men have to enter the ring to start. Flyer is still holding the back of his head, as KSZ seems to want to wait for the two men before him to wear each other down.

That leads to HardCase and Jack Breaker entering the ring, and the bell ringing three times.

*ding, ding, ding*

GP: Here we go! HardCase and Jack Breaker, the finals of last years Gold and Glory tournament, going at it once again.

JT: But this time with Smart darling K-S-Z on the outside and that Lunatic who I can't cheer because these fans love him even if he's a heel on the other corner.

GP: Get over it JT. We have two officials on the outside, just to make sure everything goes according to plans. No ref bumps in this match.

JT: No anarchy? NO WEAPONS!?!? NO FAIR!

HardCase and Breaker enter the center of the ring, and they stand face to face. HardCase punches the spit clear out of Breaker's mouth, and Breaker fires back with a left hook of his own. They trade punches to start, each man firing, but HardCase gains the advantage and punches Breaker into a neutral corner. Once there, the referee walks over to complain about the closed fists, and HardCase spits in his face.

GP: Wait, look at Flyer.

The camera focuses on Flyer, who's bleeding from the back of his head. His thick green hair has now a tint of red.

JT: YES! BLOOD!

Focus back to the fight in the action, as HardCase continues to punch Breaker, this time, focusing it on the midsection. Multiple blows, a flurry as the referee tries to intervene, but can't. Once finished with his destruction of Breaker, HardCase whips him into the opposite neutral corner, but Breaker reverses. HardCase hits the corner hard, and Breaker charges toward the corner, but instead hits the nearest ropes. Once there, he bounces off and grabs HardCase by his hair, driving him into the mat with a bulldog.

He leans over, clutching his midsection before twisting HardCase over and lying on top for the pin.

1…

HardCase puts his foot on the bottom rope, since it's easier than kicking out. The referee sees this, and breaks up the pin.

GP: Still early, but HardCase chooses not to kick out when he can easily place his foot on the bottom rope instead.

JT: Why not? You try raising your shoulder when someone your weight is on top of you.

GP: You mean like when you get pinned down by the obese hookers…

JT: Well, even a non-obese one. I'm pretty much a twig.

Breaker gets to his feet and waits for HardCase to do the same. Once there, Breaker leaps for a front dropkick, but HardCase moves out of the way and swats him down onto the mat.

HardCase points over toward Flyer, as the official turns his attention to Flyer's corner. Flyer seems to be down, clutching the back of his head. His entire forearm has suddenly become red from the blood. Both officials rush over and look at the injury, as HardCase moves over to what would be his corner, and begins to untie the top pad on the turnbuckle.

That's when Breaker gets to his feet, lifts HardCase in a belly to back suplex, and instead drops him on his knee in a back breaker.

Which HardCase sells as if he's been shot.

GP: What a VICIOUS Back Breaker from Jack Breaker!

JT: AH! STOP WITH THE POETRY!

Keith Scott Zimmerman walks over from his corner toward HardCase's, while still remaining on the apron. As Breaker turns his attention to the fallen HardCase and makes a cover, motioning for the referee to come over, KSZ continues and finishes the work that HardCase started. He shrugs, walks back toward his corner, as the ring official races over and slides for the count.

1…

2…

And HardCase barely gets a shoulder up. That back breaker must have taken a lot out of him, as Breaker lifts him up. Breaker however, clutches his ribs, probably from HardCase's work on them in the corner just moment prior.

Breaker gets shoved by HardCase, and really sells the rib injury. He hits Zimmerman's corner, and Keith uses this opportunity to tag himself in. Breaker doesn't know what's going on as the referee escorts him to the outside, and Zimmerman climbs into the ring. HardCase and Zimmerman meet in the center, and they both gouge out their opponents eyes.

GP: HardCase and Zimmerman must be thinking alike.

Neither man being able to see, HardCase goes for a kick but completely misses. Zimmerman reaches back and grabs HardCase by his head and snap mares him over. Making sure to check where HardCase is with his own hands, Zimmerman then flips over with a neck snap, which not only puts pressure on the neck, but also the back.

Zimmerman recovers, just now getting his eyesight back by deep blinks, and dives on top for the cover.

1…

2…

GP: And HardCase gets a shoulder up!

JT: Oh come on. This isn't the survivor series where pinfalls come after a leap frog.

Zimmerman returns to his feet, a little dejected but he knew he didn't get the three there. Instead, he chooses to stomp the ever living beejesus out of HardCase, repeatedly until the referee motions for him to lay off of HardCase's back. Zimmerman protests that HardCase would have done the same to him, and there's really no retort for that.

HardCase is pulling himself up by the ropes, and Zimmerman quickly walks over and tosses him off to the other side. Once there, Flyer tags himself in blindly, and HardCase rebounds directly into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker from the workrate God.

God however, didn't see the Lunatic flying at him until it was too late. Turning around, Zimmerman fell right into Flyer's spring board Lou Thesz Press, which was followed up directly with a bunch of right hands to Zimmerman's temple.

GP: Zimmerman didn't even see the tag!

JT: Oh, he saw it, he's just luring Flyer into a false sense of security.

GP: Sure he is JT, Sure he is.

Flyer gets off of KSZ, and then awaits for him to recover. Once he does, Flyer charges forward, using KSZ's knee as a spring board. Thing is, Zimmerman reverses the attempted shining wizard into a powerbomb, forcing Flyer directly onto the back of his head.

Zimmerman rolls him up completely, and hooks the tights for good measure.

1…

2…

3!

JT: Zimmerman is FIRST on the board!

GP: But that point should really go to one Dolby Jenkins and his rattan cane.

JT: They make canes out of rats now?

As per the rules, the referee helps Flyer out of the ring and Zimmerman must go toe to toe with either Breaker or HardCase, and since HardCase has just gotten out of the ring from before, Breaker hits the ring. He charges forward, and Zimmerman arm sweeps his legs out from under him before falling on top for the cover.

1…

Breaker shoves him off and returns to his feet, as does KSZ. Once there, Breaker locks him in a side headlock, and Zimmerman counters by delivering right hands to Breaker's side. Jack howls out in pain, and KSZ takes him to the ropes to toss him to the other side. Jack however, holds on for his life, and KSZ can't reverse the hold. Instead, Zimmerman lifts Breaker for a belly to back suplex, but Breaker flips completely over and lands on his feet. Once there, he locks KSZ from behind in a waist lock, which KSZ tries to break but can't. Breaker lifts KSZ up for the german suplex, but KSZ rolls forward and looks to hit a victory roll type pin. However, Breaker reverses that and stays on top, like Owen at Wrestlemania X.

1…

2…

KSZ wriggles and pushes Breaker over, and now this time he's on top. He hooks the tights once again for extra leverage.

1…

2…

It seems he's gotten too much extra leverage, and flips himself over, which allows Breaker to sit on top for a cover.

1…

2…

KSZ pulls his legs up and yanks Breaker down into a sunset flip type pin.

1…

2…

And Breaker kicks KSZ in the head to break the pin. Breaker rolls backwards to get to his feet as the fans look to stand and clap, but KSZ rushes over and hooks his head and arm, before flipping into a Mahistrol Cradle.

1…

2…

And the tights once again!

3!

Breaker kicks out a split second too late, as KSZ steps back up to his feet and raises his hands to the cheering audience.

GP: What a rally of counters that eventually went KSZ's way! I thought for a second that when Zimmerman hooked the tights and fell backwards that he'd been out, but I guess it wasn't so.

JT: But that means Zimmerman is two up on everyone?!? That means the title is as good as his!

GP: But he's still in the ring, and HardCase, he's now right behind him!

Zimmerman deadpans in the midst of his victory celebration, and reaches above his head, grabbing HardCase by the skull. He goes for a stunner, but HardCase lifts him up off the mat instead and takes him into a DVD position. Once there, KSZ tries to wriggle free, but HardCase uses his strength to instead put him entirely up above his head. Once there, HardCase runs toward his corner, and drops him head first on the exposed steel.

GP: Usually a snake eyes is as effective as a punch thrown by JT, but with a that steel there, Zimmerman may very well have a bruised eye when he wakes up!

HardCase drops down and hooks the inside leg. The outside leg, however, is hanging out of the ring.

1…

And now, the referee sees this, pointing it out to HardCase and saying he can't count. HardCase gets to his feet, and smacks the ever living taste out of his mouth.

And the referee goes over to his corner, and waves his hand, as HardCase once again dives on top for the cover.

Meygon: Uhmm…. For HardCase's disqualification for hitting an official, he has… been deducted a point! That means, that HardCase is at negative one, Jack Breaker has zero, High Flyer has zero, and Keith Scott Zimmerman has 2!

GP: Woah, HardCase is anything but pleased!

HardCase lifts Zimmerman up off the mat and begins to ram knee after knee to his face. The fans count alongside the blows One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…

JT: Woah. I didn't know wrestling fans knew how to count this high.

…twenty-three, twenty-four, and blow twenty-five sends KSZ down in a slump near Flyer's corner. HardCase goes for a pin, but Flyer instead tags himself in. And once again, HardCase is anything but pleased. He goes for the Retro Active Abortion on Flyer, the move he had just hit KSZ with, but Flyer grabs HardCase's knee and dragon screws him. He holds on, lifts HardCase up off the mat, and then dragon screws HardCase back first into his corner. HardCase slumps there, as Flyer panders to the crowd.

GP: And Flyer saw HardCase's back being worked on earlier by Breaker, and decides to continue the work today.

JT: Continue it today? When did it stop?

GP: JT, do you even know what a dragon screw is?

JT: Of course I do!

GP pauses, waiting for JT to answer his question.

JT: It's when your chick wears a dragon costume. Duh! Kinda kinky though.

GP: Kinky? For someone to have been kinky with you, I think they'd need to be with you in the first place.

JT: That was cold.

GP: Really? It felt more like a burn to me.

Flyer recovers, covering Zimmerman with HardCase's work. The referee immediately slides into position.

1…

2…

And Zimmerman gets a foot on the bottom rope. Flyer however, isn't deterred, and instead pulls Zimmerman out from near the ropes and hooks the outside leg. He also shoves his elbow into Zimmerman's face for added pressure.

1…

2…

And Zimmerman barely gets a shoulder up.

GP: If that didn't put down Zimmerman, even though it should have KILLED him, I don't know what will.

JT: But Parker, it took so damn long for Flyer to get the cover. That cheater.

GP: Yes, he is a cheater. He's a face that cheats, well, he's a face here.

JT: My whole chart is useless now. L

GP: Stop making faces in the dialogue. It makes us seem unprofessional.

Flyer lifts Zimmerman up to his feet, and hammers him in the face with a couple of punches, before lifting him up off of his feet, in a northern lights type move. But instead of suplexing him, Flyer drops to his knees, sending the point of impact over his shoulder and on the upper shoulder and head of KSZ, in a jaw breaker type motion. Flyer is obviously trying to continue HardCase's work.

HardCase slowly recovers, and Flyer sees him. He charges to the corner, jumps up, kicking HardCase in the process square in the face, before using his shoulder to fly off with a moonsault across the exposed stomach of Zimmerman.

Or would have, had Zimmerman not moved entirely.

Zimmerman rolls, and dives to Breaker's corner, before tagging him in. The referee escorts HardCase out of the ring, well, rolls him out, because HardCase wouldn't ever be escorted. Breaker hits the ring hard, and tries to gain the advantage on Flyer, but taking him up and jumping onto his shoulder. Twisting, Breaker delivered an excellent spinning ddt.

Or what he calls the Clockwork DDT.

GP: Breaker hits the Clockwork DDT! That's the same move he used to defeat Simon Seaman at May Mayhem just last year!

Breaker dives on top for the cover.

1…

2…

3!

And for the second time in the match, Flyer is victim of the pinfall.

GP: And Breaker scores here once more! Dolby's attack has definitely weakened Flyer, and I guess Flyer can kiss his dreams of becoming the World Heavyweight Champion goodbye. He has a tough road ahead of him if he wants to get back into this match.

JT: What about HardCase, the only true and blue heel in this match! He's at negative one! That's not even fair!

GP: Breaker's closer to KSZ right now, but HardCase! He charges the ring, grabs Breaker by his head and neck, lifts him, and DDT's him in the center of the ring!

JT: Attitude Adjustment! And that's it! He's on top!

1…

2…

3!

JT: And HardCase is on the board!

GP: Well, he's on the board with zero.

JT: Why do you have to ruin everything?

HardCase looks over to the fallen KSZ, and lifts him up, before locking him in a side headlock. He delivers yet another Attitude Adjustment to boos, and climbs on top for the cover.

1…

2…

NO! KSZ was saved by Breaker, who seems to have recovered enough to fight back. They began to exchange right hands, each man throwing everything they have at one another. That's when HardCase kicks Breaker in the gut, doubling him over. Once there, HardCase put him in a gut wrench, lifted him up and drove him in a dominator, ribs first, onto the exposed steel. The referee reprimanded him, but HardCase shrugged him off, and told him to count as he once again dove on top of Jack Breaker.

1…

2…

3!


Although the referee really shouldn't have counted, HardCase gains another fall.

GP: Now how is that fair! The rules state that Breaker gets a rest on the outside until someone else tags him in!

JT: You and your rules. You know, rules are meant to be broken!

GP: You mean like how I broke your sister in half last night?

JT: I don't have a sister.

GP: I guess it was your mom then.

HardCase stands in the ring, the rest of the fans booing him and his actions of late. He has gotten himself back into the matchup, and stands over the wreckage surrounding him.

GP: We're about twenty minutes into this matchup. I'm sure a countdown is going to appear shortly, but who knows with our production values. Whatever the case, HardCase may be down a fall, but without a doubt, he's in control now.

HardCase lifts up the bloody head of Flyer, and throws him back first into the unprotected steel corner. He then delivers a few swift kicks to the skull, hoping to jar loose whatever remnants of a mind set he has left and sending them down his proverbial unclogged sink drain. HardCase then pulls Flyer out by his hair, kicking him in the gut and double underhooks him. Once there, HardCase lifts him up, spins around and delivers a Tiger Driver into the center of the ring to gasps.

Flyer's head bounces off the canvas, before HardCase dives on top with the cover.

1…

2…

3!

GP: HardCase has gotten three pinfalls in the matter of moments, and has tied Keith Scott Zimmerman for the lead!

HardCase once again stands there and turns around, but turns right into Jack Breaker, who tilt-a-whirl's him before delivering a VICIOUS back breaker that HardCase sells as if he's been broken in two. Because he truly might have.

1…

2…

3!


GP: A three way tie for first!

JT: So… those of you who bet on Flyer, sucks to be you.

GP: Flyer can still return in the next eight minutes or so. I mean, HardCase got three falls in the course of two minutes practically!

Breaker gets to his feet, playing to the fans, as Flyer catches him from behind. He leaps onto his shoulders, and delivers a reverse hudaconrada, spinning his body in the move and holding onto Breaker's legs.

Before locking in the Peaceful Slumber.

Fans cheered out as Breaker's ribs were being pulled from the position of the move. Breaker cried out, too far to reach the ropes, but he was too much of a man to tap out to the hold. Flyer kept wrenching in the hold, with every passing moment, and with every second, Breaker got closer to tapping, but it wasn't in his nature. Instead, Breaker fell limp, and Flyer released the hold, realizing a submission wouldn't cut it. He rolled the unconscious Breaker over for the pin, which seemed academic.

1…

2…

3!


GP: Breaker just wouldn't submit, but Flyer is once again right into this thing!

KSZ gets to his feet, rubbing his head and wondering where he was. That's when he sees Flyer standing, and charges. Once there, Flyer ducks his head and Zimmerman jumps over for a sunset flip. Zimmerman raises his legs to pull Flyer down, but Flyer instead sits forward, Owen Hart Style once again.

1…

2…

Zimmerman uses his leg strength to pull Flyer back into the middle of the ring.

1…

2…

And Flyer rolls completely backwards, before running forward and rolling Zimmerman up by rushing under his legs and pushing forward. He grabs the tights at the same time for added leverage.

1…

2…


But he gets too much leverage, and Zimmerman uses that to his advantage, much like earlier in the match. Zimmerman gets on top, and pulls Flyer's tights as well.

1…

2…

And once again, Zimmerman can't stay on top, and Flyer rolls him backwards and once again lands on top. He pulls KSZ's tights, and then uses another free hand to hook the ropes.

1…

2…

3!


GP: SEE! And now all four men are tied at two, as we head into the final two minutes!

JT: Why didn't we just start with them all tied and just have them wrestle five minutes?!? Wouldn't that have been less of a waste of time?

GP: It's called WRESTLING JT, look the word up sometime.

JT: I lost my copy of Websters.

GP: The last few minutes have been chaotic, as HardCase has gained three pinfalls, Flyer has gained three, and so has Breaker. Really, KSZ has yet to score in quite some time, and his lead has been destroyed!

Flyer gets to his feet, a bit dazed, but doesn't stay there long, as HardCase just hammered him with a vicious steel chair shot to the back of his head.

Flyer lands on the canvas with a thud, and the referee's once again disqualify HardCase. He shrugs, dives on top of Flyer for the cover.

1…

2…

3!

HardCase smiles, and stays on top for the cover. He demands the referee count again, before flicking him off as he slides for yet another cover.

1…

2…

3!

And HardCase has gone up once more.

GP: HardCase just used the disqualification rule to his advantage. And now the referee is telling Flyer and KSZ to the outside. Trying desperately to restore order!

HardCase raises his hands in victory, leading the falls 3-2-2-2. But Breaker climbs up top. HardCase is unaware, as Breaker leaps off the top and front flips, before taking HardCase down in a stunner!

GP: THERE IS IT!

JT: Is it? What the?

GP: THE HEARTBREAKER! HARDCASE'S HEART HAS BEEN BROKEN! ONE! TWO! THREE! YES! WE ARE ALL TIED UP HERE BETWEEN HARDCASE AND BREAKER!

Meygon: One minute remaining!

KSZ climbs into the ring, and immediately grabs the stunned Breaker by his arm, and pulls him down into the center of the ring with a crossface. Breaker cries out in pain, as KSZ is huffing and puffing from the matchup.

GP: CROSSFACE! AN ODE TO THE CANADIAN GODS OF WRESTLING! KSZ HAS THE HOLD LOCKED IN! He's hoping to tie both HardCase and Breaker for the lead as the clock counts down!

HardCase recovers on the outside, and sees what's going on in the ring. The second referee yells at him to stay on the outside while Breaker is fading in the ring, and HardCase has to, because he can't afford a DQ with less than a minute to spare.

Meanwhile, in the ring, Breaker is desperately fighting for the ropes, but KSZ has the hold cinched in tight.

GP: Breaker! He's fighting, he's crawling for that bottom rope, but it must be an eternity away!

JT: No one can withstand the crossface! Unless they're a huge star, cuz, you know, glass ceiling!

GP: KSZ has the hold in tight, Breaker's fading fast, but not fast enough for KSZ!

Meygon: Fifteen seconds remaining!

GP: FIFTEEN SECONDS! IF BREAKER HOLDS ON! WHAT DO WE HAVE?!?

JT: Overtime? No freakin' way am I sitting through another thirty minute match.

Breaker continues to crawl, but can't. He can't seem to fight anymore, which is weird, because he's probably one of the better cardio wrestlers in the business.

HardCase is going nuts on the apron, not believing what's going on.

Meygon: Ten seconds remain!

GP: Ten second lefts! Breaker is fighting, and look at HardCase! He's going nuts on the apron!

JT: He can't win the match like this! It's tied, and he's on the outside looking in!

Meygon: Five second remain!

GP: Breaker is down! He's down and out, but he can't tap!

JT: Four!

GP: The referee raises his arms!

JT: Three!

GP: It falls!

JT: Two:

GP: The referee raises his arm again!

JT: ONE!

GP: IT FALLS! BUT IT'S ONLY TWICE!

*Ding, ding ding*

The fans stand there awestruck, as KSZ releases the hold, and collapses overtop of Breaker. Flyer, on the ring apron, rolls off and lands with a thud on the outside. HardCase however, is nowhere to be found.

GP: What does this mean for the Heavyweight Championship!?

Meygon: The result of this matchup… is a thirty minute draw between HardCase and Jack Breaker!

GP: A draw?

JT: What a jip!

[problems]
Written by Errol

No one seems all to pleased with the main event of a card ending in a
tie.

A certain disgruntled wrestler was about to express his
frustrations..."symbolically."

GP: This must be especially disappointing for Zimmerman. He was moments,
literally moments away from getting Jack to tap out, and...

JT: Hey uhm...where'd HardCase go?

GP: Oh he's probably just being a baby about not getting tagged in for the
conclusion of the match. He probably stormed off angry. As if he wouldn't
have done the same thing if he wasn't in Zimmerman or Breakers shoes.

JT: Whatever. HardCase got jipped and...

GP: Speak of the devil.

HardCase, who seemingly disappeared a few minutes ago, reappears on top of
the entrance ramp. The calm and poised expression worn on his face
conceals his malevolent intentions, as he makes it down the ramp. With a...

GP: Correct me if I'm wrong here JT...but is that...tank he has strapped to
his back?

JT: I think so. I wonder what's in it? Oh man this should be good!

HardCase approaches the ring, the mysterious unmarked tank of an unknown
substance attached to his back via leather shoulder straps. Zimmerman and
Breaker finally take notice of HardCase's presence.

They receive a devious grin for their alertness.

GP: Ok he's pulling out a hose which apparently is hooked up to the tank
and...OH MY GOD!! I THINK THAT'S A BLOW TORCH!!

JT: YES!!!!!

HardCase aims the nozzle at the ring and the spays it with a thick white
mist.

JT: ...I gotta say that's some funny lookin fire.

GP: That's no fire you idiot!! My chemistry isn't too hot nowadays, but
that's liquid Nitrogen!! HE'S FREEZING THE RING!!

Zimmerman and Breaker exit from the other side of the ring, escaping the
frigid spay that would've almost certainly meant instant frostbite.

GP: My GOD!! Someone stop him!!

Officials and arena security make their way down the ring. HardCase holds
them at bay with his sub-zero fuel, and continues his attack on the
defenseless ring. Once out of fuel, HardCase ditches the tank and evades
the authorities by escaping through the crowd, leaving the ring ruined and
crumbling in its current brittle frosted state.

JT: ...Well he gots creativity. Ya gotta give em that

The fans stare on in confusion, when one of them in particular throws a chair into the ring. And it instantly shatters the entire ring as if it were a brittle ice sculpture. Other fans take cues from this fan, and begin to hurl their chairs into the center of the complex.

And eventually, all that's left is a rubble.

A mess that Ford would have to clean up.

A mess to add onto the Heavyweight title situation.

That Ford, would yet again, have to clean up.


Special Thanks to Ben Biron for fixing the tense on this show. Kudos.