Dark Match
-Seamus O'Connor pinned Tag Team Champion Tommy Deathrow after the Irish Insignia in a hard-fought match. Afterwards, Krusty Kid Paul snuck into the ring to hit Seamus with a K-Cutter, but Sean O'Connor hit a sudden Lungblower on KKP. Seamus & Sean then tossed Deathrow over the top rope to the concrete and hit the turnbuckles, proclaiming that next week the tag titles would be changing hands!We're in the boiler room of the arena. A man we recognize as Michael Massacre, blood smeared on his chest, face and arms, is sitting in a steel chair, wearing short black tights, staring at the camera, a sadistic smirk on his face.
MASSACRE: They thought they could end my revolution. They thought they could end my onslaught. They thought they could stop my empire from being forged! But...
He laughs.
MASSACRE: ...regardless of what they did to me, my stomach is still hungry, my heart still longs, my waist is still bare, my teeth still require blood and bone. The Massacre... shall continue.
Another laugh. The camera pans over as the laugh dies down. We see Michael Massacre again, but this time he is wearing a finely-tailored suit. The blood is gone. His demeanor is entirely different. The sadistic smirk has been replaced by an arrogant grin.
MICHAEL: My friends, my friends, it has been far too long. A little over a year ago, I was in that NAPW ring, decimating Chad Kurtis, Hostile, Lloyd Rees and Jake Phoenix on my way to win the most prestigious tournament this promotion ever assembled: the King of Old School. But now, I am back. And this time, since I've already proved that I am--without exception--the best wrestler this company has ever paid, I've taken another route. This time, instead of stepping foot inside that ring, I'll be outside of it, managing the most sadistic F-Bomb professional wrestling has ever seen.
The cocky smile broadens.
MICHAEL: NAPW, under Terry Brandon, was too much of a bitch to hire Massacre. Too scared of the suit's at Fight TV. Too scared of the fans sitting in the front row. The kids watching at home.
A laugh.
MICHAEL: But Zouave recognized that in order to create the Greatest Show in the World, he needed me, he needed Massacre... and that's why we're here. So, bookers, if you're watching, Massacre is ready.
He peers deep into the camera.
MICHAEL: We're BOTH ready...
We come to view the husky, heavy half man-half twinkie, Trenton Oswald, drenched in sweat. While trying without succession, he mops up his sweaty face with a rag. In between wheezy breathing he stands center ring and proceeds to call out the two competitors for the next match.
LIAM SHEPHERD: This next match-up should go down as one of the best eff'n matches in NAPW history! We have a young brash skilled and extremely talented Jacob Venar, going up against a living legend in his own right, however, Chris Casino has seen better days as I predict a HUGE EFF'N UPSET!! CASINO IS GOING DOWN, BABY!!
JACK JONES: What are you smoking Liam!?? I mean, come on now. Chris Casino is a living legend for a reason dumbass! And he still hasn't lost a step going into this match up! Watch for C.C. to come out with the big Double U!!
TRENTON OSWALD: AND NOWWW!! SET FOR ONE FALLLL!! MAKING HIS WAYAH TO THE RINGAH, STANDING IN AT SIX FEET TWO INCHEES TALL... WEIGHTING IN AT TWO HUNDRED FORTY POUNNNDSAH...FROM PLACES UNKNOWN IN BRITISH COLUMBIAAAH, CANADA...JACOB VENAR!!!
"Anthem of the Underdog" by 12 Stones hits up and out stands Jacob Venar with a t-shirt reading "I screwed Casino."
LIAM SHEPHERD: Watch as this guy makes his way out from the back while he walks to the squared circle. Doesnt he look ready for one hell of a fight? I think so!!
JACK JONES: That's just your contacts playing tricks on you. I think you lost one...you must have. All I see is a young wannabe.
"The Falcon" makes his way through the ropes and into the ring to a chorus of boos. No matter. The boos from the crowd seem to fuel Jacob Venar.
TRENTON OSWALD: AND NEXXTAH!! HE WALKS TO THE RINGAH, STANDING IN AT FIVE FOOT ELEVEN INCHES TALLAH AND WEIGHING IN AT TWO-TWENTY POUNNDS....CHRIS CASINO!!!
"Smooth" by Rob Thomas and Carlos Santana hits up
"The Future" steps out to a huge pop from the crowd. Almost never wearing a shirt to the ring, this time he sports a t-shirt reading "I make Careers and then end them!"
JACK JONES: The crowd loves this guy!! At least we all agree on one thing.
LIAM SHEPHERD: That's a first, there is a first for everything, Jack Attack.
JACK JONES: Not everything Liam, there is not a first for EVERY thing. Trust me on that one.
LIAM SHEPHERD: Will you stop!!
Chris Casino makes his way through the ropes and into the ring, eyeing up Venar as referee Morgan Smythe checks Casino for weapons, having already checked Venar.
With Venar's back towards Chris, Casino takes advantage as he brings a knee up into the back of Jacob, before the bell sounds.
Morgan Smythe calls for the bell
DING DING
Casino leaving nothing behind, proceeding to stomp a mudhole into Venar's back as he lie prone in the corner.
LIAM SHEPHERD: Chris is one mad man on a mission!
JACK JONES: Still the dirtiest player in NAPW, and the fans love him for it!
After the ref breaks up the fight in the corner both men get into a grapple as Casino gains control with an Irish Whip into the ropes as coming back Venar gets laid out with a huge standing dropkick by one Chris Casino. Taking no time Casino then picks Venar up into a Brainbuster suplex followed by a double underhook backbreaker!
LIAM SHEPHERD: Casino working the back of one Jacob Venar, very smart here.
JACK JONES: He's taking Venar to school, baby!
Casino proceeds to just throw Venar outside the ring and onto the floor. Venar gets to his feet... CASINO WITH A SLINGSHOT BODY PRESS ONTO VENAR! The crowd loves it!! Both men are down!! The ref starts the count. Shortly there after Venar still laying on the floor, Chris Casino makes it to his feet and plays it up for the fans in the front row. Showing off for the crowd Casino starts to get very cocky. "What did I tell you dirty Canadians? No problems!" Like a possum, as Casino's attention is with the fans, Venar attacks Casino with a thunderous Running Enziguri to Casino's head. He goes down! Venar promptly picks up a limp Casino and rams him shoulder first into the corner ring post. Jacob breaks up the count as he rolls in and out back onto the floor. Picking up Casino and throwing him back into the ring.
JACK JONES: Lots of action here in the beginning, Venar has the control now. Come on Casino!!
Venar gets Casino into his Bermuda Triangle but suddenly it's reversed as Casino starts banging away at the midsection of Venar, with kicks and fists flying. Venar is dazed, turns around with a wild right hand, ducked, SUPERKICK! Right on the button. Casino gives a smirk to the crowd, and with a cocky glow, slowly Casino goes for his Finisher. He takes Venar up and into his Bankrupt endmove very slowly smiling to the crowd as if to say, this is how slow I can do it because I'm the man! And with this cockiness suddenly Venar drops to his knees with a low blow!!
LIAM SHEPHERD: Casino singing soprano ouch!!
JACK JONES: There goes his royal flush, Casino is in a mess!
Venar takes advantage as he now is pissed right off. He mouths "you think this is a joke? YOU THINK I'M A JOKE?" With intensity Venar slings Casino into the turnbuckle hard, then whips him into the opposite corner! Venar charges and connects with the huge splash. Casino is down, Venar to the rope... SHOOTING STAR PRESS!
Casino is in it bad! Casino holding his stomach, Venar picks him up and throws Casino into the post shoulder first! As Casino lay in the turnbuckles Venar pounds away at his liver and ribs as then the ref breaks it up! Finally Casino has time to breath. Venar sideswipes the ref and trys to throw Casino out of the ring but then Casino Mule kicks Venar to the mat inside the ring. Momentum changed! Casino takes Venar and goes for a another slingshot body press over the top to Venar, but Venar ducks and Casino splats hard onto the concrete floor outside the ring. Venar pops onto the ring apron...
LIAM SHEPHERD: What's going to happen now? What does "The Falcon" have planned??
JACK JONES: Who cares, watch for Casino to bounce back here.
Venar with the SENTON, Casino trys to catch Venar, sending both men down to the concrete floor! Reckless is Venar, prepared to do anything to get one over on Casino. Again Jacob sends Chris into the steel post but this time Casino is bleeding from a gash to the face!
LIAM SHEPHERD: OH MY!!
JACK JONES: It's on now!! Come on Chris!
With that Venar throws a ragdolled Casino into the ring, gouging at the forehead of Casino.
JACK JONES: Come on Venar, that little girl in the front row is crying!
Venar does not care as he proceeds with a choke on the ropes and the ref counts to four as he releases the hold. Then goes right back to choking Casino's throat over the top rope. Again to a four count. Venar with just pure intensity the whole match. Not giving the legend the respect he deserves. With Casino now in position, Jacob goes up for his end move Spread My Wings...
Casino moves!!
Crash landing!....NO Venar rolls through and on to his feet! As Casino gets his breath in the corner Venar goes for a Spear! But Casino punts Venar in the head! Casino with a superkick right to the jaw!! Both men collapse for a ten count.
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
No one moves
SEVEN
EIGHT
Venar holds onto the ropes climbing to his feet as Casino is now on his knees slowly making it to his feet.
Venar comes at Casino, Chris blocks the shot and comes back with a few chops to the chest of Venar. With each shot to the chest a WHOO sound comes from the crowd. With a red chest Venar comes back with a few short blows to the face rocking Casino back but as Jacob goes for the big shot, Chris comes back with an onslaught of moves. A clotheline...back elbow...then a body slam. CASINO GOES UP FOR THE FLYING ELBOW DROP FROM THE TOP ROPE.
NAILS IT!!
ONE
TWO
thr...NO!!
Referee Morgan Smythe sees that Venar's foot caught the lower rope! A frustrated Casino goes ape nuts on a broken Venar. Elbow drop, legdrop, knee drop to the face. Venar has seen better days.
LIAM SHEPHERD: Casino going for his Bankrupt version 2.0!!
JACK JONES: Take him to the cleaners, Chris!
Venar then shoves Casino out of the move, Venar with the Enziguri, Casino ducks! Grabs Venar's arm...Venar comes back with his other arm. Casino has both arms...a belly to belly suplex but Venar some how lands on his feet!! Casino with the SUPERKICK....Venar catches the leg! Hooks it! Fisherman's suplex Driver...WING CLIPPER!!
JACK JONES: Oh hell, that was vicious!
LIAM SHEPHERD: F'N YEAH BABY!!
Venar quickly to the top rope as Casino is prone...
SPREAD MY WINGS CONNECTS! Venar's face shows the pain in his own body but he hooks the legs...
ONE
TWO
THREE
Morgan Smythe calls for the bell!!
TRENTON OSWALD: ANNNND YOUR WINNNNER BY PINFAAALLL... JAAACCOOOBBBB VENNNNNNNNAR!!!!
LIAM SHEPHERD: F'n AWESOME!!!
JACK JONES: There is nothing AWESOME about it, Liam.
After the match Venar starts jawing with some of the front row fans as they boo him. Jacob begins to taunt them. Trying to get under the skin of the audience. Just then Venar is unaware that Casino is slowly getting up and making his way over. Venar turns around and WHAM!! Casino Superkicks Venar square in the face!! Venar goes down!! Casino grabs a limp Venar and places atop the NAPW broadcast table at ringside....WHATS THIS?!?! Chris Casino?? GOING TO THE TOP ROPE???
LIAM SHEPHERD: Eff off, Venar won the match fair and clean!
JACK JONES: That's rich, coming from you. GO GET EM TIGER!!!
Jumping off the top rope and FLYING through the air.....WHAM!!! CRASH LANDING!!! A FLYING ELBOW DROP OFF THE TOP ROPE AND RIGHT INTO VENAR'S RIBS. THE TABLE EXPLODES! VENAR IS HURT BAD!!!
LIAM SHEPHERD: The table is broken all over the place, can you hear me??!!
JACK JONES: I cant hear you over the screaming fans...
Fans: HOLY SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT!!!
Casino gets up from the wreckage as his music hits up. The look on his face is one of frustration... but some measure of satisfaction. He looks down at Venar in the rubble, cheek twitching. Then he yells out, the fans responding. Casino heads up the aisle while trainers come down to check on Venar.
LIAM SHEPHERD: We have to take a commercial break, and we'll try to get this mess cleaned up... and a new f'n desk...
Commercial Break
BACKSTAGE...Chris Casino is unwrapping his wrist tape, black expression on his face. He looks up and sneers at the reporter entering the frame... and the five big, blank security guards with him.
CHRIS CASINO: What do you want, bitch?
PETER PANTOLIANO: Chris, I'm here with a message from Zouave. He wants you ---
CHRIS CASINO: To suck his dick? No thanks, not after you've had YOUR mouth on it.
PETER PANTOLIANO: (angry, but trying to remain composed) You are to leave the building IMMEDIATELY, and you are banned from any official NAPW gathering or event until next week's TV!
Casino stands up, staring hot into the eyes of Pantoliano. He twitches. Peter flinches and dives. Casino snorts. Pantoliano points and yells.
PETER PANTOLIANO: Remove that man!
Security presses towards Casino, but he just waves them off.
CHRIS CASINO: I'm going you stupid monkeys... but Intern, tell Zouave he can throw whatever garbage he wants at me, I'm not stopping until his freaky clown face is off this show. See ya, losers.
Casino grabs a t-shirt in one hand and shoves the rest of his gear in a suitcase, then walks out. Pantoliano fumes...
Trenton Oswald hobbles into the ring, spilling puddles of perspiration in his wake. The fans have seemingly had enough with Zouave and his Thrall, raining boos and garbage down at the ring.
TRENTON OSWALD: I KNOW, fans, you are EXCITED!
LIAM SHEPHERD: F'n rights, they're excited.
JACK JONES: I've been color commentator for NAPW for five years, not ONCE have I ever believed that to be the sound of EXCITEMENT.
BOO!
TRENTON OSWALD: Don't worry, we are starting the next match! Quiet down, quiet down.
Although the fans HATE that sweaty bastard, they are forever slaves to the ACTION of NAPW.
TRENTON OSWALD: The FOLLOWING contest is scheduled for ONE fall.
"Son of a Bush" by Public Enemy hits the speakers, but you'd never notice over the "BOOOOOO".
TRENTON OSWALD: INTRODUCING! From St. Albert, Alberta! He weighed in at TWO hundred FIFTY SEVEN POUNDS! HE IS! THE BLACK! BEAST!
LIAM SHEPHERD: Yeah! F'n rights, dude!
JACK JONES: Here comes the BLACK BEAST, and the fans don't like him one bit for what he did to Stylin' Kyle Roberts last week.
LIAM SHEPHERD: Who cares, dude, the guy was garbage. BEAST is a true performer!
JACK JONES: No, he WAS a true performer, and now he's a whore for the clown.
LIAM SHEPHERD: I'll have you know that Zouave had and has absolutely nothing to do with THE BLACK BEAST. He's just giving the fans what they want, a long-awaited f'n rematch!
JACK JONES: Sure, and it only puts a worn out Steve Parker against one of the most dangerous men NAPW has ever seen.
The Black Beast stalks to the ring in his duster and cowboy hat with hate in his eyes. Ignoring the fans and the garbage landing all around him, Beast climbs into the ring as his music, and the boos, are drowned out by "Dirty Hands, Empty Pockets" by Corrosion of Conformity and immense CHEERS!
JACK JONES: Now, THIS is a swap of roles. Last year these two men battled for the first time, but the fans' roles were reversed, Beast was the favorite, and the "Star Spangled Sensation" was the hated.
LIAM SHEPHERD: Dude, do ALL color commentators have such a firm grasp of the obvious?
TRENTON OSWALD: AND NOW! Hailing from Boston, Massachusetts! He weighed in at TWO HUNDRED, NINETEEN POUNDS! HE IS! "THE STAR SPANGLED SENSATION"! STEVE PARKER!
Steve Parker hits the aisle, clad in his old red, white and blue glittery cape! He appears to be in fine spirits, but we can see his taped up ribs even as he acknowledges the immense cheers of the fans. Parker tries to hide a wince with the 'smile.'
JACK JONES: That guy has been wrestling non-stop for three weeks, and he hasn't even been able to rest from his assault from Roddy Mac.
LIAM SHEPHERD: I know, isn't it great? F'n RIGHTS!
Steve Parker hits the ring as the Black Beast sneers from the opposite corner. After checking each competitor for weapons, referee Anthony Uruburu calls for the bell!
DING DING DING
The action is on immediately as both men lock up in a elbow and collar tie up. Beast, stronger, gets the upper hand and shoves Parker into the corner and then STINGER SPLASHES him. Holding his ribs, Parker stumbles out of the corner right into a BEAST LARIAT! Parker is down and Beast starts to stomp MUDHOLES into him! Uruburu won't have it for very long, and stops the Beast, who immediately turns and threatens Uruburu with his hateful eyes. Uruburu backs off as Steve Parker starts to struggle to his feet.
JACK JONES: Beast in control thus far, and look at those eyes, folks.
LIAM SHEPHERD: It's like everything awesome on SNL! YES.
JACK JONES: Newsflash, kid: Saturday Night Live hasn't been 'awesome' since 1991!
Up to his knees is Parker, but Beast is back, lifting him by the scruff of his neck and beale tossing him into the nearest turnbuckle. Parker is in a world of hurt, here, slumping back to the mat, holding his ribs. Beast, with a sickening smile, leans down to deliver more hurt, EATS A DESPERATION ELBOW FROM PARKER! Beast sent reeling as Parker finds his feet. Parker on the offensive, showing tremendous heart, starts a barrage of punches and kicks that staggers the big man Beast and pushes him against the ropes. Parker with an irish whip to the opposite ropes and hits Beast with a GAMENGIRI! Beast, with a snarl, gets back to his feet only to be hit with a rebounding SUPER-KICK-- NO BEASTDUCKSUNDERLOUTHESZPRESS! Parker trying to cover up to defend against Beast's RAPID rights! Uruburu trying to regain order, but Beast will not stop!
LIAM SHEPHERD: YEAH! F'N RIGHTS! GET 'IM BEAST!
JACK JONES: This is just brutal, and there's nothing Anthony Uruburu can do to stop it!
Uruburu decides to get involved, and tries to push Beast off of Parker. BIG. MISTAKE. BLACK BEAST to his feet gets RIGHT in Anthony Uruburu's face! Uruburu, trying to warn Beast that he'll disqualify him, backs into the turnbuckle. Beast raises an arm to strike!
STEVE PARKER SMALL PACKAGE!
ONE!
TWO!
Beast kicks out with AUTHORITY!
JACK JONES: Parker almost picked up the win, there. Beast is letting himself be distracted.
LIAM SHEPHERD: No way, Jack Attack. This is all part of the plan.
JACK JONES: WHAT plan?
LIAM SHEPHERD: Err... BEAST's plan. To, uhh... BEAT PARKER, yeah. To a PULP.
Parker, digging deep, looking to get some momentum, kips to his feet and kicks the rising Beast in the gut. AMERICAN SUPLEX! ONLY JUST! Beast is down, but that suplex was sloppy, Beast being so much heavier than Parker and Parker being weakened. Something like that. Anyway, Parker, holding his ribs, rolls Beast over for a pin that barely gets a one count. Beast is still virtually fresh as he rolls to his feet and KICKS Parker in the head. A collective OOH from the fans fills the arena as Beast smiles again, putting his foot in Parker's throat for the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
Parker SHOVES Beast's foot away and tries to roll to his feet, but Beast YANKS Parker to his feet and locks on a TORTURE RACK! Anthony Uruburu checks on Parker who LOUDLY sounds his disapproval to tapping out.
LIAM SHEPHERD: And this is where Parker goes to sleep. F'n awesome.
JACK JONES: I wouldn't count out the Star Spangled Sensation just yet.
Beast yanks HARDER on the hold, but Parker refuses to submit! Beast, frustrated, drops Parker and gets back in Uruburu's face. But Parker has ALSO had enough! Finding some new wind, Parker hits his feet and hits Beast with an ARM DRAG! Parker, in spite of his pain, picks Beast up and nails him with a snap suplex, this time perfectly executed!
JACK JONES: What did I say? Don't count out Steve Parker. Parker is showing absolutely amazing heart and it looks like he's getting his second wind!
LIAM SHEPHERD: NO! COME ON BEAST! SNUFF OUT HIS LAST HOPE!
JACK JONES: You really do suck.
Parker hits the top rope, Beast is getting to his feet! FLYING CROSS BODY STRAIGHT INTO THE PIN!
ONE!
TWO!
BEAST ROLLS THROUGH
And to his feet, with Parker cradled in his arms. He hoists his opponent up for another Torture Rack, but Parker flutters out and behind Beast.
SUPER-SIZED KICK-- BEAST DUCKS UNDER...
AND LOCKS IN THE CLAW! JAMMING HIS MIDDLE AND RING FINGERS DOWN PARKER'S GULLET! Parker trying to fight it off but The Black Beast with a sadistic, twisted expression on his face as he rams his digits right down Parker's American throat. Parker sways, eyes fading... Beast forces Parker down to the mat, Parker still has some light in his eyes, but his shoulders are down! Uruburu counts!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
TRENTON OSWALD: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! YOUR WINNER! THE BLACK BEAST!
LIAM SHEPHERD: YEAH! F'N RIGHTS, MO-(BLEEP)!
JACK JONES: Steve Parker showed tremendous heart tonight, but it just wasn't enough. Wait a minute, what is Beast doing? The damn match is over, let go!
Anthony Uruburu calls for the bell again, but Beast refuses to release the hold! Steve Parker's eyes roll back in his head and he PASSES OUT from the paralizing nerve hold!
JACK JONES: Bloody hell, he's going to kill him!
Uruburu tries to force Beast to release the hold, but to no avail, as Beast seems hell bent on KILLING Steve Parker! Anthony Uruburu calls for a THIRD bell and says something to Trenton Oswald.
TRENTON OSWALD: What? You must be joking? All right, then. Ladies and gentlemen, it is the decision of the referee Anthony Uruburu that since the Black Beast refuses to release the Claw hold on Steve Parker... Sigh... That his original decision is reversed. Your winner, by disqualification, Steve Parker.
LIAM SHEPHERD: What... No... NOT COOL, MAN!
JACK JONES: Well don't you just look like your Christmas presents were burned right in front of you.
LIAM SHEPHERD: Umm, hello? BEAST PINNED PARKER. THAT DECISION WAS BULL SHIT. Anthony Uruburu can bet that Zouave will NOT be happy about this.
JACK JONES: ...FINALLY. The Black Beast took his filthy fingers out of Parker's mouth. God, what a horrifying sight!
LIAM SHEPHERD: Bruce Richards can go toss, but THE BLACK BEAST? F'n rights. He said that Steve Parker wasn't going to leave here tonight under his own power, and that's exactly what's happened.
JACK JONES: Yeah, we need some help here for Steve Parker...
Trainers hit the ring, giving The Black Beast a wide berth. Beast looks out, chuckling softly as the fans are either booing or silent with shocked concern. Parker is completely out. A trainer breaks out the smelling salts...
LIAM SHEPHERD: Good luck, he'll be out til Thursday... f'n what? There's somethin goin' on backstage! We got a damn camera back there?
The camera zooms down the hallway and... an O'Connor is laid out on the floor, a broken steel chair lying next to him! Seamus O'Connor suddenly comes into the scene, yelling "SEAN! What happened? Sean! SOMEBODY GET HELP!"
Seamus gets up, grabs the chair, angrily slams it into the wall, then kneels back down next to his brother. He looks up, furious. "(BLEEP) SAD!" Fade to commercial.
Commercial Break
[RECORDED EARLIER] appears on the screen.It's quiet and dark on the offdays of the NAPW sets. A day before most of the wrestlers drive down to Calgary's Ogden Hall, Zouave has co-opted a portion of the parking lot to set up camp. It looks like a carny's dream, and a regular folk's nightmare. Lights are on in some trailers, and ther seems to be one of Zouave's minions on guard duty. The streets are slick with rain. One miserable night.
Especially if you're one of a group of men sneaking around the perimeter, dressed all in black.
VOICE 1: Can you keep it quiet back there please? We're supposed to be silent!
VOICE 2: I can't help it! It's my stomach!
The second voice comes from a large amount of black fabric. This, of course, is Big Mitch.
BIG MITCH: My stomach's not THAT loud is it?
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: Sssh!
GARY: Maybe this was a bad idea.
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: How else are we going to get Joey away from that crazy clown? Stealth is the way to go, and nobody's stealthier than a ninja!
GARY: But Big Mitch's gut is not what you'd see in any ninja film! And I don't know what's going on with Esteban.
The camera swivels to a smaller black figure, who's got the crotch of his pants outlined in reflective tape. Some tape on his chest reads "Suck on these."
ESTEBAN: What?
GARY: I say, you want to infiltrate a secure place, you need to hire real help. But noooo, Chris wanted to play ninja.
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: Someone hasn't seen my scene in American Ninja 12: New Jersey Ninjitsu. I'm not playing ninja. I'm reprising my role.
GARY: Your role.
BIG MITCH: I'm sorry, guys. I know I'm not a good ninja. But I just want to rescue Joey.
The four men stand in silence for a second.
GARY: Thanks, Mitch. I needed to be reminded of why we're here. Who cares how it plays out as long as we get our friend?
ESTEBAN: Zouave can suck my balls.
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: He can suck all our balls!
GARY: Please, Chris, think before you speak. Now, let's be quiet. We're almost at the trailer.
They sneak around the back of the closest trailer, as a sentry walks past. He's wearing a porkpie hat and a shirt that reads HENCHMAN on it.
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: Where are we, an episode of Batman?
ESTEBAN: Adam West can --
Big Mitch quickly covers Esteban's mouth with a giant mitt. The sentry looks around, eyes narrowed. After a few seconds, with the Worker's Guild absolutely rigid, the sentry turns back the way he came. Big Mitch's head perks up, nose twiching. Gary notices.
GARY: What?
BIG MITCH: Chuckwagon. They're having stew. I smell... goat.
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: Goat? Who eats goat?
BIG MITCH: Goat is in a lot of North African cuisine. If Zoave has recruited from travelling carnivals around Europe, chances are there would be some Moroccans. Also, goat's pretty cheap.
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: Yeah, because nobody wants to eat it.
GARY: Moroccans? Really?
BIG MITCH: (sniffs some more) Stewed tomatoes. Onions. Saffron. Yep, that's a tagine alright.
GARY: Wow, Mitch, that's scarily impressive.
Big Mitch's mouth is starting to water.
BIG MITCH: Tagine...I have'nt had that in a loooong time. It's... sooo intoxicating.
GARY: No!
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: Mitch! We need to rescue Joey!
BIG MITCH: (walking slowly in the direction of the scent) Maybe Joey's in the mess tent.
Esteban jumps on Mitch's back, but isn't make Mitch move any slower. Gary and Chris each grab a leg. it's not enough to stop Mitch's momentum.
GARY: If we get caught, that's it! No Joey rescue! No Malone Mottos! No Worker's Guild worth its weight!
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: I'll buy you your own goat, Mitch!
Mitch pauses slightly.
BIG MITCH: My own goat?
GARY: You can roast it, make a fine roti out of it, we don't care!
BIG MITCH: One goat, all for me?
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: Yes!
Big Mitch stops, coming back to his senses.
BIG MITCH: Deal.
Chris and Gary relax their grip. Esteban is still on Mitch's back.
ESTEBAN: (muttering to himself) That's right! You can suck my balls! Suck 'em good!
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: Cripes, he's mounting Big Mitch's back like a dog in heat.
BIG MITCH: I can barely feel it.
GARY: If you're cool with Esteban dry humping your back, it might help him calm down some.
Chris Kamikaze notices something out of the corner of his eye.
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: (hissed) There!
They turn, and Joey walks expressionless two paths away. They sneak behind him, and he enters a trailer, closing the door behind him. After a few minutes, the lights go out.
GARY: Now's our chance. Chris, you and I should get him. Mitch, please stay right here.
BIG MITCH: Of course I'll stay right here! I get a goat if I'm good!
Chris shudders, and he and Gary sneak up the the door of Joey's trailer. Oh so silently, they manage to open the door. The camera comes up behind them.
GARY: Joey? We're here to take you home.
The lights click on. Joey sits on his bed, a blank slate. And beside him? Zouave.
ZOUAVE: HmmmmmMMmmm? Noooo, I'm afRAID that just WON'T doooo. Joey IS home!
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: Shut up, you circus freak! Joey's our friend!
ZOUAVE: WeeEEElll, Joey's MY friend too. Don't you think HEEEE should be making the deSICIon?
Joey tilts his head at the Guild members. He looks at Zouave. He looks back at Chris and Gary, and shakes his head.
ZOUAVE: Looks like he MADE his CHOICE! Joey is staying with MEEeeee! Now. What DO I do with YOU two? Perhaps the toy box?
CHRIS KAMIKAZE: Don't you even think about it! We brought backup!
ZOUAVE: Oh, yes. The fat one and the SMALL one. How could I forGET about THEM?
He points towards the door. As we look outside, we see a gang of guards, thralls and other misfits surrounding a large lump. They just keep punching and kicking, as defeated sounds of pain roll out of the mass that is Big Mitch and Esteban.
ZOUAVE: You think I wasn't awaAAAre the moment you stepped on the lot? My guards ARE VERRRRY alert. It's because they ONLY think about pleasing their MASTER!
Four thralls enter, all wearing porkpie hats. They drag Gary and Chris out.
ZOUAVE: Have FUN, boys! All work and NO PLAY makes Jack a DULL boy!
He starts laughing. We catch one last look at Joey, impassively watching the proceedings before the camera cuts out, pulled from the hands of the NAPW employee. Then, nothing but static.
Commercial Break
TRENTON OSWALD: LADIES AAAAAAAAND GENTLLLLLLEMEN! MAKING HIS RETURN TO NNNNNNNNN! AAAAAAAAAA! PPPPPPPPPP! WWWWWWWWW!"GUESS WHO'S BACK!"
The crowd doesn't care that it's Trenton Oswald making this announcement. They are going bat-crap INSANE, cheering their heads off for the return of "The Show"!
JACK JONES: It has been months since we've seen Chad Kurtis in an NAPW ring!
"They call me cocky and I say..."
The sound of a scratching record.
"ALL EYES ON ME!"
LIAM SHEPHERD: And it'll be months before you see him again, Jacko!
Remember all that cheering two seconds ago? Yeeeah, not so much now. Lots of boos. Lots and lots of boos. This crowd wants blood, and if it isn't Jeffrey Roberts's they get tonight, they'll settle for this man's, the former Heritage Champion, Donovan Astros.
JACK JONES: With Trenton Oswald's introduction and your positive giddiness at this turn of events, I have to wonder, has Donovan Astros gone against everything he ever said he was in his quest to rid NAPW of even the legacy of Chad Kurtis?
LIAM SHEPHERD: Why don't you shut up and let the man talk and maybe you'll get an answer or two?
Astros slides into the ring, grabbing the microphone from Oswald.
DONOVAN ASTROS: Thanks for the warm introduction, but if you don't get your sweaty, stank ass body out of my ring in about, say, 5 seconds, the ring crew is going to have to find some Corexit to disperse the oil slick I'm gonna leave here.
Oswald backs off and steps through the ropes. Once he's out, Astros finds a comfortable perch on the turnbuckle, looking down at the entranceway and the announce table, with his back to the NAPW crowd. It's all eyes on him, but his eyes are on no one.
DONOVAN ASTROS: Two weeks ago, I was defeated for the Canadian Heritage title by Danny Chaos. Danny Chaos said I was wasting a golden opportunity to lead NAPW back to glory and to take the reins of a counterattack against the Thrall and their leader, Zouave. He said if I wasn't willing to do it, then he would. So I would like to congratulate Danny Chaos on a job well done. I can see for myself that the tides are turning here in NAPW back to the side of good.
The crowd boos even louder. Astros can't be oblivious to the fact that Chaos lost the belt last week to Justin Case, can he?
DONOVAN ASTROS: The tides are really turning here, Danny. I mean, you fought off Justin Case, a man I beat twice, you spurned his charge for the Heritage Title and defended NAPW's honor like the hero you are. Oh wait, that's right, NONE OF THAT HAPPENED. You lost to a Thrall stooge with a Thrall referee around. Some hero, Danny. You've really proved exactly what I have to say. People aren't begging the Heritage Champion to come save NAPW from all this chaos. The fans here tonight, the fans that would boo the greatest wrestler on God's green Earth, those same fans that would live and die on my every word if I would just whisper the sweet nothings they all want to hear, that Donovan Astros is coming for Justin Case, Justin Roberts, and the rest of the Thrall! You don't get it, and you never will!
More booing. More hatred. And the feeling might be mutual. Why else would Astros taunt the fans with the thing more valuable than anything else to them... hope?
DONOVAN ASTROS: I have unfinished business. Business that's bigger than the Thrall, business that's bigger than the Heritage title, business that's so big, it's forty months in the making. Business with one coward that you morons seem to worship like some redneck Jesus. Someone who calls himself the ThenNowNext. The Last Action Hero. The Show, Chad Kurtis.
The chant of "KURTIS! KURTIS! KURTIS!"begins raining down on the former Heritage Champ, and this finally drives him off the turnbuckle to look in the eyes of the NAPW crowd.
DONOVAN ASTROS: Chant all you want for him! He has had three (BLEEP) years and four months to answer my challenge to him! He had one of the longest World title reigns in NAPW history to answer my challenge! He has had all the time in the world to find the stones to step into the ring and face me, one on one, man to bitch! And for three years and four months, all I've ever heard from Chad Kurtis is excuse after excuse after excuse. "Ah hurt mah back! Mah kid bruddah's sick! Ah coodn't get a flaght outta Paducah!"You know why I brought you back to NAPW, Chad? You know why I opened the door up for you after you EXILED YOURSELF FROM THIS COMPANY? Do you think it was compassion for a bad decision made in the heat of the moment? HELL NO! None was given to me when I made my mistakes, and I have no compassion to give to ANYONE, especially a yellow-bellied piece of trash like YOU.
Astros is seething with anger as the crowd tells him in salty words what they think of the Worldwide Astrocide.
DONOVAN ASTROS: And you know what, Chad? I can wait until the end of time for you to crawl out of that *BLEEP*hole they call Kentucky, get over whatever Kurtis Curse has struck you this time, and finally step in the ring with real, bonafide greatness. I can wait, but NAPW can't, Chad. I know that there'll be a little two-bit hellhole in North Carolina that you hang out in if NAPW burns while I wait for you to come back. I will get you, Chad, whether it be here or somewhere el--
"GUESS WHO'S BACK!"
Astros looks SHOCKED as the crowd goes bonkers again, with renewed hope...
DONOVAN ASTROS: I told you to play that *BLEEP*y song once, because it's the last time anyone in NAPW'll EVER hear it, just like last week was the last time you'll ever see someone go for the CK Finale!
"THEY SAY I'M COCKY, AND I SAY WHAT?
IT AIN'T BRAGGIN, MOTHER*BLEEP*ER, IF YOU BACK IT UP!"
You can barely hear Kid Rock as the crowd sings along over the top of him.. and for good reason!
JACK JONES: He's baaaaaack!
CHAD KURTIS
stands in the aisleway for only a moment before rushing to the ring! Astros has tossed aside his microphone and WE'VE GOT FISTICUFFS! Kurtis and Astros trading right hands! Kurtis getting the upper hand, staggering Astros near the ropes... CLOTHESLINE TAKES ASTROS OVER THE TOP! KURTIS FOLLOWS HIM RIGHT OUT! Mounted punches on the floor! Officials are out, trying to break this fight up! Kurtis shoves one ref off and continues the punches in bunches while Astros tries to cover up! Another ref gets shoved off! A third ref finally pulls Kurtis off of Astros long enough for Astros to crawl over the railing and through one of the aisleways towards the exits. Kurtis yells out at Astros for him to get his 'yellow-bellied' ass back to the ring, but Astros is long gone!
JACK JONES: "THE SHOW" is back! Chad Kurtis is back in NAPW, and where's Donovan Astros now that the man he says he's wanted to fight for nearly three and a half years is bringing the fight to him!
LIAM SHEPHERD: Maybe if he wasn't jumped by that f'n coward Kurtis, he would have stayed in there!
JACK JONES: I'm not the biggest Kurtis fan in the entire world, but Astros has been talking trash about the guy for months knowing full well he wasn't even in the country. Believe me, this is a match I WANT to see!
Commercial Break
TRENTON OSWALD: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a sixty minute time limit and it is for the NAPW World Championship! I HOPE YOU ARE ALL READY AND EXCITED!Dropkick Murphys hits the PA and the crowd is going wild. After a few bars Lloyd Rees starts to make his way down the aisle, his head lowered, his eyes staring straight ahead.
LIAM SHEPHERD: Geez. Looks like Lloyd Rees hasn't showered or combed his hair or beard in weeks.
JACK JONES: He is focused on only one thing: this match!
TRENTON OSWALD: Introducing first, he hails from Wabana, Bell Island, Newfoundland and weighs in at two-hundred and forty three ell bee esses... the challenger! The number one contender! He's walking down that aisle RIGHT NOW... LLOOOOOOOYD REEEEEES!
Lloyd Rees continues his way down the aisle to amazing cheers and chants of "FOURTH! FOURTH! FOURTH!"
The music changes as we hear Disturbed. The cheers turn to boos as Jeffrey Roberts emerges from the curtain, smiling as only he can, his title belt on his shoulder.
TRENTON OSWALD: Making his way to the ring, from the SUNNY and BEAUTIFUL Miami, Florida, weighing in at two-hundred and thirty five ell bee esses... the BEST WRESTLER THIS COMPANY HAS EVER HAD BAR-NONE, the NAPW WORLD CHAMPION... JEFFREEEEYYYY ROOOOOOBERTSSSSS!
JACK JONES: Did that introduction really just happen?
LIAM SHEPHERD: Couldn't have written a much better one myself.
Rees and Roberts circle one another, their eyes locked, Roberts smirking, Rees unblinking. Just as the bell is about to be rung, Trenton Oswald enters the ring and slides between referee John Sharplin and the competitors.
TRENTON OSWALD: Pardon my INTERR-UPTION, my friends, but Zouave has declared, in the interests of JUSTICE, EQUALITY and FAIRNESS... that John SHARPLIN does not OFFICI-ATE this match. Instead, the UN-BIASED, DETAIL-ORIENTED, WORLD-RENOWNED replacement will be... SELWYN SCIPIO!
Scipio emerges from the curtain, nearly walking into the railing before adjusting his glasses and finding the path to the ring.
The fans boo, sensing something sinister at work. Rees, despite the setback, keeps his eyes on Roberts. Roberts charges at him.
DING DING
Rees and Roberts lock-up in the middle of the ring. They circle around each other, trying to gain an advantage. Rees shoots for the champion's right leg, taking him down. But a kick from Roberts's left leg sends him onto his back. Roberts leaps on top of him. He lands some rights and lefts. Rees rolls on top of him. Rights and lefts. Roberts gets his legs up and onto Rees's shoulders, pushing them to the mat.
ONE!
Both men get to their feet. Rees with a knee to the gut of Roberts. He lifts his head. Chop! Chop! Roberts stumbles back but Rees grabs him. Snap suplex---no! Roberts knees Rees in the gut. Snap suplex of his own! Roberts stands up and digs a heel into Rees's eye. Scipio gets close to see where the heel is, slowly gets to his arthritic-stricken knees and begins a five-count. But Rees trips out the champion's leg. And applies a quick kneelock. He cinches it, trying to weaken the knee. Roberts reaches for the rope but can't quite get to it. He stretches his arm as Rees yanks. Finally, he gets to it, but Rees keeps it locked on!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
FI---Rees finally relents. He stands up and quickly drops an elbow into the knee. He stands up and drops another one. He drags him into the middle of the ring and attempts a second kneelock but Roberts spins around and catches him in a rear headlock. Roberts whispers words in Rees's ear. Rees says nothing back but responds by getting to one knee. He stands and belly-to-back suplexes Roberts... who lands on his feet! Dropkick to Rees's knee sends him to the mat. Asai moonsault! Rees moves out of the way. Roberts lands on his feet again! Rees lunges for Roberts but Roberts executes a flying headscissors! Rees gets to his feet just in time to arm-drag Roberts. A second arm-drag! A third---no! Roberts blocks it with a headbutt! Rees stumbles back. Roberts pushes him into the ropes, Irish whip.
JACK JONES: I haven't seen this much back-and-forth, give-and-take since I was in my favorite sexual position!
Rees hits the ropes and comes back. A combo of three kicks to Rees: back kick to his gut; spin kick to the same spot; and a kick to Rees's head that sends him flying back to the mat. Cover!
ONE!
TWO!
TH---KICKOUT!
LIAM SHEPHERD: That third kick nearly took Lloyd Rees's head off! Imagine having Lloyd Rees's head hanging on your wall? Now THAT would be a trophy!
JACK JONES: You know what, Roberts is sick enough to do that.
Roberts applies a rear chinlock before Rees can get to his feet. Rees struggles to get to his feet as Roberts cinches the lock. He knees Rees in his spine twice, sending him back down. Rees begins to stand again. Another knee. He continues to rise. Elbow to Roberts's gut! Another! Another! The hold breaks. Rees runs off of the ropes. Roberts catches him in a sleeperhold! Rees stumbles for a bit... reverses into a big belly-to-back in the middle of the ring!
JACK JONES: Lloyd Rees always corrects a mistake. Roberts was able to flip out of the last back suplex attempt, but this time Rees adjusted his method---
LIAM SHEPHERD: --hey, I'M the play-by-play guy! I believe Rees used a belly-to-back variation that originated out of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
JACK JONES: It takes a liar to know a liar and you just pulled that out of your no-no spot!
Roberts tries to stand but Rees locks in a dragon sleeper!
LIAM SHEPHERD: Is that a Griffon lock?
JACK JONES: NO! It is a dragon sleeper. Lloyd Rees is going for his Conception Bay Chinlock!
LIAM SHEPHERD: That's what I meant!
Roberts, Rees's arm locked around his neck, squeezing it, manages to run away, pulling Rees with him. He runs up the ring ropes! And flips, landing behind Rees! A clothesline from behind sends Rees over the top-rope! Rees lands on the cement. He slowly climbs to his feet as Roberts runs to the other side of the ring. Rees stands. Roberts with a double jump somersault plancha! But Rees CATCHES HIM! And he drops his NECK ACROSS THE GUARD RAIL!
LIAM SHEPHERD: Disqualify him! These tactics are DISGUSTING!
Roberts immediately rises to his feet, holding his neck, clearly experiencing an absurd amount of pain. He stumbles away from the ring, holding his throat. Rees slowly stalks him.
TWO!
Rees punches him to the ground. Roberts rises, still holding his throat, unable to defend himself. Another punch sends him back down.
THREE!
Roberts rises. Sent down with a headbutt! This time, Roberts doesn't rise. Rees picks him up. He Irish whips him back towards the ring. Roberts's back slams into the corner of the ring apron!
FOUR!
Roberts stumbles forward... right into a Superkick! The World Champion drops!
JACK JONES: Looks like Rees just busted your guy wide open!
LIAM SHEPHERD: I don't see any blood. Oh, oh, yeah... I guess that's a little blood. Paper cut though.
Rees lands atop Roberts and holds his head with one hand while punching away with the other.
FIVE!
LIAM SHEPHERD: This is incredibly unbecoming of the number one contender!
SIX!
He punches away as blood trickles down Roberts face. Finally, he gets off of him. He picks Roberts up.
SEVEN!
He rolls him into the ring and follows. Roberts crawls towards the middle of the ring, wiping blood from his eyes. Rees stalks him. Roberts looks up at the crowd and smears the blood around his face. He doesn't like it in his eyes. He prefers it on his face. He smiles. And stands up. Rees slams him with a forearm across the back. Rees picks him up and throws him into the corner. He whips him across the ring. Roberts slams into it. But runs forward and clotheslines Rees to the mat!
LIAM SHEPHERD: Roberts reaches down deep to pull off that move!
JACK JONES: Indeed. He's not going to let Rees take his title away easily!
Rees stands up. Clotheslined again! He grabs his head and slams it into the turnbuckle. Again! Again! Roberts whips him from one corner to another. He runs in... Rees gets a foot up! Roberts stumbles back. Rees charges. Roberts with a belly-to-belly! Rees slowly gets to his feet... walks into a second belly-to-belly! Roberts goes up top!
LIAM SHEPHERD: This is where Jeffrey Roberts shines! That turnbuckle is his HOME!
JACK JONES: Must be uncomfortable to sleep. And where does Zouave and the other groupies sit when they come over to visit?
450 SPLASH! NO! NO! Rees gets his knees up!
Roberts clutches his abdomen as Rees uses the ropes to get to his feet. Roberts stands. Rees charges with a SPEAR---REVERSED into an elevated DDT! COVER!
LIAM SHEPHERD: TRENTON! GET OFF YOUR ASS! THIS MATCH IS OVER!
ONE!
TWO!
TH---KICKOUT!
Roberts steps onto the ring apron. Slingshot Legdrop! COVER!
ONE!
TWO!
THR---KICKOUT!
Roberts picks up Rees. RUNNING LIGER BOMB!
LIAM SHEPHERD: That is his setup to his finishing move!
JACK JONES: Why do you only know the moves of Thrall guys?
LIAM SHEPHERD: Oh, please. Your just mad that a young buck like me was able to replace your friend Billy Hewson so quickly.
Roberts climbs up top.
LIAM SHEPHERD: Break his adam's apple, JEFFY BABY!
Rees jumps and lands on the top-rope, forcing Roberts to fall, legs-split, on the turnbuckle! Rees climbs up. He pulls Roberts to his feet. Hooks him for a suplex...
JACK JONES: You going to call that move?
LIAM SHEPHERD: ...
JACK JONES: I'll do it. WABANA BUSSSSSSSTAH!
Rees stares down at a blood-gushing Roberts.
JACK JONES: Rees needs to make a pinfall attempt right now!
LIAM SHEPHERD: He is just STARING at Roberts. What is this Lloyd Rees's new finisher: THE STAREDOWN?
JACK JONES: No. No. Probably not.
Rees picks him up and throws him into the corner. He stands on the middle turnbuckle and forces his knuckles into the open wound. Then begins to pound away as the fans count.
...
NINE!
TEN!
Roberts stumbles, blinded by the blood. Rees off of the ropes... running bulldog! He places an Achilles lock on Roberts and kicks away at his head without mercy! The blood stains the NAPW on Fight TV logo as Rees continues to stomp on the skull of the world champion, while twisting his Achilles tendon in ways God never intended.
JACK JONES: Lloyd Rees is teaching Jeffrey Roberts some very painful lessons right now. Do not mess with NAPW!
LIAM SHEPHERD: That's like telling the American revolutionaries not to mess with Britain. We're HERE to HELP!
Roberts looks like he is about to tap when Rees knocks Selwyn's glasses off of his head! They slide off of the mat to the floor below.
JACK JONES: Well... that was strange. Roberts was ABOUT to TAP!
LIAM SHEPHERD: Lloyd Rees does not have the mental fortitude to be champion of the world. What was he THINKING?
JACK JONES: I don't think the geezer realized how his glasses fell off. And you know what, I kind of like what Rees is doing here now that I think about it; he's giving Roberts and the lackeys some PAYBACK!
Selwyn's efforts to find his glasses are futile as he is looking inside the ring! Meanwhile, Rees continues to stomp away. Unrelentless. Unyielding. BRUTAL! And he TAPS OUT! But Selwyn doesn't see it! Nor can he hear the fans all yelling at him, telling him where the glasses are. They want to see Lloyd Rees win his fourth world title!
JACK JONES: Lloyd Rees is risking a record-setting fourth world-title reign to send a message to the Thrall. I commend him!
LIAM SHEPHERD: This is a SPECTACLE! A GROSS SPECTACLE!
Finally, Rees drops the leg and stops stomping. Roberts continues to tap out as Rees rolls to the outside. He grabs a steel and chair and enters the ring. Hiding it behind his back, he tells Selwyn that his glasses are outside the ring. Selwyn goes outside to find them. Rees wait's patiently as Roberts, grinning through crimson teeth, pulls himself to his feet. Roberts turns around... BAM!
JACK JONES: Rees is REALLY making sure the Thrall gets the message. It's like a... return receipt.
LIAM SHEPHERD: OH WILL YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH! No wonder you're the color commentator; you sound like a FLAILING MORON!
Rees drops the steel chair on the ground and perches himself on a turnbuckle, watching and waiting for Roberts to stand up again. After twenty or so seconds, he pulls himself together and uses the ropes to pull himself up to his feet. Just as he does... DDT from the GREEN ONTO THE CHAIR! Rees makes no pinfall attempt.
JACK JONES: Alright, Lloyd. Give him back his glasses. PIN HIM!
LIAM SHEPHERD: In the interests of fairness, I need to give this poor man his glasses back. He needs to see the MOCKERY that Lloyd Rees is creating!
JACK JONES: Stay in your seat, jackass.
Selwyn is still on the outside looking for his glasses. Rees picks up the bloody chair and again wait's for Roberts to stand. Still grinning, ever-bleeding, Roberts once again rises. BAM! And he is back down again! He places the chair down again.
LIAM SHEPHERD: Even these fans are uncomfortable with this! They are silent!
JACK JONES: Alright, alright, I get it, but Lloyd Rees holds within him the frustrations of an entire company!
It takes Roberts nearly a full minute to stand this time... MINER DRIVER ON THE CHAIR!
LIAM SHEPHERD: THAT'S IT!
Shepherd grabs the glasses and hands them to Selwyn who thanks him over and over. Rees throws the chair out of the ring. As Selwyn enters, he locks on the CONCEPTION BAY CHINLOCK! And Roberts, barely conscious enough to do it... TAPS OUT! HE TAPS OUT!
JACK JONES: NEW WORLD CHAMPION! LLOYD REES IS A FOUR-TIME WORLD CHAMPION!
TRENTON OSWALD: Your WINNER and the NEW CHAMPION OF THE WOOOORLD... "DA TECHNICAL TERROR," "DA EAST COAST SENSATION," "DA LEMON DROP KID"... LLOOOYD REEEEEES!
LIAM SHEPHERD: This is just... This is just... I'm so... I just...
JACK JONES: Short of words, Liam?
LIAM SHEPHERD: ...
JACK JONES: Fine! I'll do the play-by-play. This is a huge victory for NAPW and a HUGE DUMP on Zouave, the Thrall, Roberts, all of those ass clowns. GO NAPW!
BLACK.
JACK JONES: Oh #@%!
LIAM SHEPHERD: The lights are out, what the eff man?
JACK JONES: They'll come back on, and then it'll be ---
FLICK
JACK JONES: --- Bad. HOLY HELL!
The fans gasp in horror. The ring is suddenly surrounded by Thrall security, all blank-faced guards, facing out. It's a human wall around the squared circle.
Inside the ring, Jeffrey Roberts is in a corner, bloody and out of it, but more important...
Lloyd Rees is not alone.
JUSTIN CASE.
MASSACRE.
RODDY MAC.
Rees looks around, breathing heavily, realizing what's up...
HE STARTS FIRING. HE'S GOING TO TAKE SOME OF THEM OUT WITH HIM! Rees knocks Roddy down, Case tries to get him, Rees gets a shot
WHAM
Massacre with a steel chair right to the back of Lloyd Rees! Rees down to his knees, Case hooks him up... THE BENCHMARK! Case preens for the booing crowd ...
AND HERE COMES THE CAVALRY! DANNY CHAOS! JAY O'BRIEN! And...
Nobody else. They've been removed, hurt, taken out, not there.
Chaos and O'Brien try to break through the security barricade, but the numbers overwhelm them. The fans are throwing garbage... but some aren't even bothering, they're just leaving. They've seen this before. As security cuffs Chaos and O'Brien, Lloyd Rees is being held up by Case and Massacre... RODDY IN THE CORNER...
DESTROYER!
Rees is down. But they're not done. Massacre opens up the steel chair in the middle of the ring and Mac lifts Rees up into a crucifix position...
INTO THE DDT.
CLIFFHANGER. On and THROUGH the open chair. The new World Champion lays prone, arms not moving at his side.
MASSACRE ON THE TOP ROPE WITH ANOTHER STEEL CHAIR! He hits himself in the head and... FLIES!
THE MASSACRE!
CHAIR FROG SPLASH ONTO REES' BACK!
The fans are done being angry, they're too tired, too sick of this to care. Most are leaving. The ones that stay silently pray, wondering, hoping if anybody will stop this.
Massacre rolls around in pain from his own move. Case hooks the Sharpshooter on Rees' legs, bending back, Rees doesn't even wake up. Roddy off the ropes with a LEGDROP to the back of a helpless Rees' head.
In the corner, through a curtain of blood and a haze of pain, Jeffrey Roberts, though no longer NAPW champion, grins like the Cheshire cat.
Justin Case picks up Rees for the Just 2 Talented and NAPW is out of TV time.
Lights down.