Blood, Sweat & Chairs Wrestling: Bloodfest - 8/12/02

[And once again we find a camera back in the exclusive locker room of

the Suicide Kings. Despair is sitting on a bench doing his pre-match

rituals, taping up his wrist, cracking a few joints, downing a cold

one or three. He looks up at the camera with a grin on his face and a

almost healed cuts on his body.]

Despair: Well who would have ever guessed that the old BSCW would make

it to PPV? Kinda funny to think of all the half assed feds that have

made it here so much quicker yet for some reason everyone thinks this

is a big deal. For some reason this is suppose to be special or

meaningful. Well in a odd way it is. OK take a moment to adjust to the

shock that I just admiting something in this little slice of hell is

good and I'll continue.

[slight pause]

Despair: You see this PPV is two things: proof and salvation. Proof

that the Suicide Kings make things happen. Proof we equal money,

buyrates, asses in the seats, merchandise and all the other crap that

front office people care about. Think this little hackstock would have

ever gotten to PPV without use to boost interest in it? Think any real

cable company would have risked losing money on you unless there was

potential to rake in cash? The reasons are right back here, Spikyjim,

Travis and me. Cash in the bank, marketable names that make people

notice crap that beforehand no one cared about.

We are the single handedly making everyone one of you get noticed. We

are the ones making people outside the bingo hall jumping trailor park

trash care about your careers and lives. Ever think that the internet

would buzz over your world title or even about what might happen next

card? Ever think that you would be more than indy fodder that at best

could hope to get a dark match for one of the bigger badder better

federation around?

By the way, you're all welcome. Fucking ingrateful hacks. You're

welcome for all the not so hard work it took to make this our stomping

grounds. You're welcome for all the blood and pain we are going to put

all of you through. But most of all you're welcome for the fact that

we are going to give you worthless little lives a bright shining

moment that you can revel in for years to come. Cause like it or not

we're gonna rape this place for what it's worth and head off to bigger

and better places. Places worthy of guys like. A little place owned by

a Mr. Blue.

I know he's watching, they all do. The heads of real federations.

Scouting, stalking for new talent to save from cess pools like this.

To mold into their new stars. I know Mr. Blue is watching cause when

faced between the joke of a TV program you put out and the joke of the

PPV this is going to at least the PPV can be a tax write off. But none

of you little maggot matter in the big scheme of things, just one

viewer. Just one Mr. Blue so for the next few minute why don't all of

you just fuck off while I have a word with him.

Hello Mr. Blue. Hope the cursing isn't too bad. It can go if you like.

But you know how it is, dealing with substandard hacks and second rate

pretenders. It's annoying and just make a guy lose it sometimes.

Then again maybe you don't know what it's like. After all, you are the

top dog of the industry. And right now I just want to let you know

that the Kings are ready to show you just why we need out of here. We

deserve better than this and tonight we're gonna prove it. Sit back in

your nice leather chair. Enjoy your imported beer or wine perhaps and

watch as Travis raises hell like he's become a legend for. Watch as

Spikyjim adds another name to the list of necks he's broken. And watch

as I show the world what the so called scary lil goth boy can really

do.

Fact is we need out of here and fast. We need to get back to a place

that cares if their talent makes enough to make ends meet. A place

that appreciates talent enough to not ask them to do a signing at a

monster truck show. A place where the ring isn't set up only twenty

feet from the shitpile at some county fair. We need into Empire and

we're willing to do whatever it takes. We'll prove it tonight infact,

we'll help kill off this could be up start and bring you it's head as

a trophy. We'll show the world just what a joke this whole fed is. In

short, we'll tear it down just for your amusement.

But I gotta go now Mr. Blue, more genetic defects to deal with. I hope

you understand...

So I'm back to the rest of you braindead losers. Miss me? Think I

care? Good. So tonight the first PPV of the little company that

shouldn't. Another notch in my belt and frankly one I'm not too proud

of. I've already beaten the champion back in Travis's little plaything

called Outlaw Championship Wrestling. I've already shown up the so

called more hardcore of the hardcore. Frankly this place is beneath me

but I'm not done with it just yet. See I'm going to do a few last

things before I get to take care in the glorious exodus that is Mr.

Blue's world.

First there's the little matter of Inoue, his boyfriend and their

little gimp too. A little matter of a wanna be junior that masterbates

over the idea that one day he just might be able to fill my shoes. A

little matter of making every single one of you eat shit and like it.

See, while all you blood thirsty mongrels are screaming your chants

all you really want is to see pain, hardcore violence, misery. But

thing is you want it selectively. You want to see me die in that ring

for your amusement. Got's some news for ya.

It ain't happening.

You're little poster boy for this place is gonna be exposed for the

hack he is. The mute monster is going to get his neck and shoulder

broken by a guy no where near his roid'ed up size. I'm gonna give you

blood, violence, pain, total carnage. I'm gonna give you everything

you want and you're gonna have no choice but to love it cause that's

your nature. I'm gonna make your hardcore loving asses eat shit cause

you know no one else is gonna deliver like I can.

Inoue, it's just a sad fact you're out dated. Your morals and values

and traditions died the moment the first crazy bastard picked up his

first chair and decided to knock his opponet's head off with it. So

just for you I'm gonna take your loved morals and values and piss all

over them. I'm going to make them into a joke for my own amusement and

shove it in you face. And it's not cause I'm that bad of a guy or

cause I'm just destined to be better than you are. I'm gonna do it

cause I simply want to.

Junior, I know you're listening and taking note. Trying to figure out

how you can rip me off so one day make you can yank the curtain of

someplace halfway decent. I know your type, the banner carrying hero

brainwashed idiot mold. I know deep inside you want to do the company

proud and beat me down. I know you want to prove me wrong but it's

just not going to happen. I've sent guys into retirement for trying to

make a name off me and I'll do so again. Hell, might even be tonight

though I'm still debating if you're worth the effort. But just to

really prove a point and drive it home all at the same time I'm gonna

do something. I'm gonna piss on you, the fans and this own place and

use the banner you carry to wipe my ass. I'm gonna make it all into a

big joke that the Kings can laught about while we drive to Mr. Blue's

house to sign our contracts.

See in my eyes you represent the heart of a place this like, the guy

that will lie down and die for his company. The backbone that supports

it. The soul if you will. And you see, I got a little goal. . .

break this place's back, rip out it's heart and make the soul go bye

bye.

And I'm gonna be laughing the whole time I do it.

[Fade to...]

[A heavily taped hand, callused, thick, holds a strand of barbed wire

within it's inescapable grip. It moves not... this, the hand of

Asama Inoue.

Standing statuesque, his trademark stoicism presented even more so as

he stands, staring with utter... venomous seriousness, intensity,

determination. He is attired in his attire... new attire. Pleather

black wrestling shorts, kneepads and matching boots sheath his

unnaturally thick legs, his torso sheathed in a sleeveless, open

poncho-like pullover shirt, the one word written across in deep, bold

red: GATAME.]

VOICE: Such an over rated tool this barbed wire is.

[The distinctive voice of William Payne ushers forth as he steps into

'view', subtly fixing the stylish, gold rimmed glasses perched upon

his hawkish nose. As per the usual he is dressed in the finest of

Italian embroidery, a wide, knowing smile plastered across his

handsome, young, perfectly groomed face. He takes a quick look back

towards his charge, standing mere feet in front (and to the side) of

him. He speaks once again, pure business his tone.]

WP: I often sit back and wonder how men fear such... instruments.

Barbed wire... thumbtacks... glass panes... light tubes... staple

guns... singapore canes... the ilk that seems to be en vogue around

these parts. The weapons all the men around here like to use in their

matches and such. Tables... chairs... all the more tools to get their

job done. Yet each of these men holds an innate fear of these

weapons. Each man, while inflicting with such, refuse and dislike to

receive in return.

[He smiles cockily...]

WP: My friends, you need not worry about that when it comes to my

friend and associate here.

[Inoue cranks his neck, sneering, still not saying a single word nor

attempting too. He just stands there, looking down at the barbed

wire in his hand with disdain. Payne chuckles lightly under his

breath, continuing.]

WP: You see, within your feeble minds surely you could grasp the

origins of these... tools [said with much contempt] you hold so dear,

this weapons you so like to flaunt, to use, to inflict upon your

enemies. They were not crafted of simple air. They do not grow on

trees. These weapons you use are crafted by man's hand...

Which means they can be taken apart by such.

[He shakes his head.]

WP: You know the strengths of such weapons yet ignore the weaknesses.

You think about how to use them... not defend against them. You draw

blood without drawing your own. My friends the most powerful weapons

were not borne of man's hand, they were borne of a much higher

power...

[He turns his head, looking towards Inoue once more.]

...and this truly is the most powerful weapon of all.

[Payne laughs aloud, if only for a brief second. He takes several

steps backwards, standing beside Inoue... beside this fighting

machine.]

WP: Your staples may draw blood... your barbwire may break skin...

your glass and forks and whatever meandering, meager weapon you use

may hurt a person. It may make one bleed but this weapon...

[He slams an open hand against the chest of Inoue. The Japanese

sensation simply ignores it as he would the most inconsequential of

itches.]

This weapon does not break when done.

[Payne slaps again.]

This weapon does not break skin, it breaks bones.

[Another slap.]

This weapon does not simply draw your blood... he stains the mat with

it.

[Another.]

This man does not need a weapon... he is one. A weapon for which you

have no defense. A weapon for which you cannot prepare. A weapon

which you... which no one shall stop. Like the tides that washed the

Earth of it's sinners so shall this tidal wave wash clean Boston's

sins.

[Payne steps away, pacing behind the still Inoue. He rubs his hands

together, a sign of anticipation, perhaps moreso even then the man who

shall do the work. Inoue, intensity personified, inhales deep his

face showing a scary, deep... matter of fact statement.]

WP: The man called Despair shall feel not his pseudonym for soon he

shall feel nothing. A man called Sykopath may have the sheep of Vail

behind him but soon all he will have left is a legacy... memories...

and a sad, forlorn, lonely family. Perhaps they will be feeling

despair.

[Again he chuckles, pacing still, head facing down to the ground as he

thinks his next move.]

WP: Some call us the antithesis of this company. Some say we face an

impossible task facing such odds. Some say our antics, our

persuasions are in vain. Some say our words fall on deaf ears. Some

of those are the exact sheep to which he act as shepherds. One may

deliver you unto the promise lands... or so they claim... but do not

be mistaken for their promises are for naught as I... as we have

different ideas.

[He pauses, rubbing his chin with one hand.]

WP: You may say he is the antithesis but in earnest do you not think

he is the _epitome_? Does BSCW not have wrestling in it's moniker?

Do not it's denizens claim to be professional 'wrestlers'?

[He tilts his head questioningly.]

WP: Well then prove it to us. Don't come with your weapons, bring

yourself. Do not come with words, come with actions. Prove us wrong.

Prove our truths about this place as false. Prove us wrong. Show you

truly belong to the name which you carry. Bleed for wrestling.

Sweat for wrestling but chairs are simply tools.

Tools to sit on when _this_ man cripples you.

Tools to sit on at home as you watch us prove _you_ wrong.

Tools to for your family to perch themselves on as they visit you in

the deep recesses of a long term care unit, making sure the machines

that run your body do so correctly.

[He chuckles once again, this time not so quiet, this time loud enough

to catch a glance from Inoue... no expression shown... just a glance.]

WP: Despair... Sykopath... many have called you institutions of the

hardcore way. Many have called you flagbearers of the extreme.

You carry a dead flag my friends.

[He pauses, a smirk crawling upon one side of his mouth, one eyebrow

raised?]

WP: Not dead yet you claim? Well my friends, the truth hurts...

[The fist of Inoue.]

... does it ever, _ever_ hurt.

[Out.]

[We cut to the ring, where Despair stands in it, ready to fight.]

JL: Introducing first, from Sunnyvale, California, and weighing 200

pounds...he is a member of the Suicide Kings...here is

D E S P A I R ! ! !

[HARDCORE HEEL POP!]

MH: Despair is one dark, deadly man.

BW: And here comes another!

[The lights dim and the stars shine bright as smoke fills the Suffolk

Downs and "Die MF Die" rings out through the crowd and air as a

familar figure steps out from behind the curtain to red lights and

Sykopath, dressed in his black Hakama pants tucked into those ever

fimilar black buckle boots, dirtied with the blood of oh-so-many

fallen opponents. On his upper body... nothing but a red fishnet

shirt, with long black sleeves. His hands of course, are secured in

his trademark red and black fingerless gauntlets. His face is covered

by the well known Hayabusa-like mask with the blood red sykopath smile

dripping down as if painted with fresh blood... Sykopath stops for

a moment to head bang and let his hair fling wildly around while brain

cells come to a screeching death-halt.]

#I don't need your forgiveness

I don't need your hate

I don't need your acceptance

So what should I do

I don't need your resistance

I don't need your prayers

I don't need your religion

I don't need a thing from you!#

[Sykopath begins to make his way down the ramp and around the crowded

Downs slapping hands, and screaming the lyrics of the song to fans...]

JL: And, from Detroit, Michigan, here is...

S Y K O P A T H ! ! !

[HUGE POP!]

#I don't do what I've been told

Your so lame why don't you

Just go

Die mother fucker die mother fucker die!

I don't need your prison

I don't need your pain

I don't need your decision

So what should I do

I don't need your approval

I don't need your hope

I don't need your lectures

I don't need a thing from you!!#

[Sykopath gets up on the apron and performes for the crowd a little

while taunting Despair as the chorus fades out.]

MH: And here comes competitor number three.

[The lights dim...]

[Cue: Rob Zombie "House of 1000 Corpses"]

JL: And their opponent...

[The eerie guitar twangs hit over the PA system, soon accompanied by

the voice of the Hellbilly himself.]

#She got a corpse

#Under her bed

#She had her fun

#But now he's dead

#Hear momma said

#Come feed desire

#Her brother said

#Hey, throw her on the fire

[The smoke filling the entrance way is disturbed as a business like

William Payne steps through, quickly making his way to the end of the

entrance area, the crowd spewing down a MONSTER heel pop. Dressed as

always in the finest of Italian embroidery he pauses, fixing his

stylish gold rimmed glasses. He smiles towards the ring and the men

within, nods... and turns.]

#This is the house

#Come on in

#This is the house

#Built on sin

#This is the house

#Nobody lives

#This is the house

#You get what you give

JL: From Wakayama, Japan... weighing in at two hundred forty-two

pounds...

[From the smoke, emerging slowly, comes the intimidating structure

known as Asama Inoue. He glides out with a grace that belies his

incredible physique, not pausing but making his way past Payne who

simply smiles at his charge. The pair walk down the aisle, Inoue

ignoring everything around him: jeers, out stretched hands...

everything.]

JL: ...accompanied by William Payne...

A S A M A I N O U E ! ! !

[HEEL POP!]

#I cut the flesh

#And make it bleed

#Fresh skin

#Is what I need

#I let it dry

#Out in the wood

#All your crying

#Did no good, yeah

[Up the steel stairs he traverses, stepping slowly into the ring,

standing in his corner, his gaze not faltering away from either of his

opponents. He makes nary a move towards them, stoic as he stands, his

visage granite. Inoue comes to the ring, attired in black wrestling

boots, along with matching knee pads. His 'pleather' wrestling shorts

are a solid black, the top embroidered around with a red dripping

blood motif. His wrists are wrapped in tape of solid black, white

underneath, finger braces matching his wrists and his nose sports a

similarly colored breathing brace across the bridge.]

MH: Asama Inoue, ready to go.

BW: This guy is _STIFF_, Heath. I'm interested to see how these

hardcore boys stand up to his strikes and suplexes and shit.

"DING! DING!"

MH: And here we go, all three men circling each other to begin with.

These triple threat matches are so interesting. Who will gang up on

who?

BW: And you _ALWAYS_ need to watch your back.

[All three men circle each other tenatively, not sure of who to go

after. Payne yells from the outside, and Inoue makes the first move.]

MH: Here we go!

"THWACK!"

MH: Lariat to Sykopath!

"THWACK!"

MH: Lariat to Despair!

"THUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: Baaaaack body drop to Sykopath!

"THUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: Baaaaaaack body drop to Despair!

[Inoue kicks Sykopath to the apron, and then picks Despair up by the

hair and tosses him through the ropes and into Sykopath, sending both

men to the floor.]

[HEEL POP!]

BW: Inoue just cleaned house, baby!

MH: Impressive start for Asama Inoue.

[Sykopath and Despair slide into the ring. Inoue stomps at Sykopath

right away, but Despair drills him from behind. Sykopath is soon up

and both hardcore icons are soon stomping away at Inoue to a big pop!]

MH: Look at this! The first double team of the match!

[Inoue is backed to the corner, where Sykopath and Despair continue to

stomp a mudhole into Inoue. Sykopath backs up and charges back towards

the corner.]

MH: OOOOOOOH! Running knee smash into the face of Inoue!

BW: Despair!

"THWAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: Diving baseball slide kick, driving his feet into the face of

Asama Inoue!

[Sykopath and Despair gather Inoue up and send him to the ropes.]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: DOUBLE TEAM SPINEBUSTER! INOUE GOT SPIKED!

[Sykopath and Despair each drop elbows into the chest of Inoue.

Despair then motions for Sykopath to head to the corner. Despair gets

on Sykopath's shoulders and prepares to leap.]

MH: Despair wants to hit a splash off of Sykopath's shoulders!

[SWERVE POP!]

MH: NO! DESPAIR WITH A VICTORY ROLL!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEE-

[Sykopath just kicks out. Despair rolls off him and catches him with

some kicks.]

BW: Great idea by Despair!

"THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: Oh! And Despair drills Sykopath with a martial arts kick!

BW: I love it, baby! You can't trust anyone!

[Despair goes after Sykopath, relentlessly stomping him in the face.

Inoue gets up and runs at Despair, who puts him back down with a big

right hand. Despair scoops up Sykopath and sends him to the ropes.]

MH: Despair...

[POP!]

MH: Sykopath reverses a tilt-a-whirl into a flying head scissors! To

the ropes!

"THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK~!

[POP!]

MH: _BIG_ SPINNING MARTIAL ARTS KICK BY SYKOPATH!

[Sykopath leaps to the second rope, but Inoue is quickly over with a

punch to the gut to stun Sykopath. He then turns around and puts his

hands up around Sykopath's armpits and lifts him into the air...]

[HEEL POP!]

[...tossing him right down onto Despair in the process!]

BW: Great counter by Inoue, hurting both opponents in the process.

"SMAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: _VICIOUS_ double lariat by Inoue, and Despair and Sykopath are

right back down on the mat.

[Inoue scoops Sykopath up first and waistlocks. Sykopath reverses and

goes behind. Inoue runs up and grabs the ropes to avoid being

suplexed, but Sykopath simply slingshots himself over the top rope,

snapping Inoue's neck on the top rope.]

MH: Nice counter by Sykopath there. He saw he couldn't get the suplex,

but still put Inoue down.

[Sykopath pulls Inoue by the feet to the outside, but looks up just in

time to see Despair coming.]

[HIGH SPOT POP!]

"CRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!"

"HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!"

MH: DESPAIR JUST HURLED HIMSELF OVER THE TOP ROPE, TAKING OUT BOTH MEN

WITH AN INSANE TOPE CON HILO!

BW: And taking himself out in the process!

[All three men lie motionless on the outside, but Despair is the first

one to his feet. He picks up Sykopath and takes him by the head,

ramming him into the ringpost. He then turns around, surprised to see

Inoue on his feet.]

"SMAAAAAAAACK!"

"WHOO!"

"SMAAAAAAAACK!"

"WHOO!"

"SMAAAAAAAACK!"

"WHOO!"

"SMAAAAAAAACK!"

"WHOO!"

MH: Just _LISTEN_ to those chops by Inoue!

BW: I can't believe the man is even standing that quickly. He's

incredibly strong, though. Like my penis.

MH: ...

BW: I saw these Chinese guys lift a car with their penises one time.

Maybe Inoue has the same strength.

MH: He's Japanese.

BW: Whatever.

MH: ...

"CRAAAAAAAAAASH!"

[Despair reverses an Irish whip and sends Inoue flying into the steel

steps. He turns to see Sykopath charging towards him, but quickly hits

a drop toe hold. Despair plunders under the ring and finds a Singapore

cane.]

[POP!]

MH: Things are only starting here.

"THWAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: Despair lays into Sykopath with that cane!

[Despair kicks Sykopath in the gut to double him over, and then lays

into him with some shots to the back of the neck.]

"THWAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

[Meanwhile, Inoue has sneaked back into the ring, and heads towards

the ropes...]

"SMAAAAAAAAACK-CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAASH!"

[HEEL POP!]

MH: Inoue with a baseball slide kick, sending Despair back into the

guard rail!

[Inoue grabs the wounded Sykopath and hauls him back into the ring.]

"THUD"

MH: Snap suplex by Inoue.

"THUD"

MH: Another snap suplex.

"THUD"

MH: And a third snap suplex!

[Inoue now lifts up Sykopath and side steps him, lifting him _HIGH_

into the air...]

"THUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: _BIG_ back drop suplex by Inoue!

BW: And he isn't gonna let up anytime soon!

"THUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: That's five straight suplexes by Inoue! He's tearing Sykopath

apart right now!

[Inoue picks Sykopath back up, side steps, and lifts him high into the

air. However, Despair has jumped back up on the apron, and he

slingshots into the ring...]

[POP!]

MH: DESPAIR WITH A FLYING CROSS BODY! HE PINS BOTH MEN!

ONE!!

TWO!!

[Inoue and Sykopath shove Despair off of them.]

MH: Good idea by Despair right there.

[Despair goes for an Irish whip, but Inoue reverses and sends Despair

_HARD_ into the corner. Despair staggers out...]

"MASSIVE THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: What an overhead belly-belly suplex by Inoue!

BW: Pure. Strength.

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[POP!]

MH: Sykopath from behind, taking Inoue down with a bulldog! To the

ropes...quebrada connects! Sykopath is fighting back here!

[Sykopath picks up Inoue and sends him hard into the corner. He then

grabs Despair and sends him hard into the same corner, ramming him

into Inoue. Sykopath then charges in and hits a corner splash on both

men.]

MH: Sykopath slings himself up to the top rope. What's he going to do

here?

[Sykopath grabs both men by the head and then hurls himself off the

top rope and forward...down...]

"MASSIVE DOUBLE THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[HUGE POP!]

"HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!"

MH: DOUBLE DIAMOND DUST TO BOTH MEN! THAT'S UNBELIEVABLE!

[Sykopath slides to the outside and looks under the ring, and then

starts tossing things into the ring...]

[HARDCORE POP!]

[Chairs...kendo sticks...cookie sheets...a glass pane...a 2X4...a

spool of barbed wire...a fire extinguisher...]

BW: Here we go...

MH: Business, my friends, is about to pick up.

BW: Sykopath up top.

"CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: Flying chair shot to the head of Inoue!

"CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: And Sykopath takes out Despair with a chair shot as well!

[Sykopath slingshots up to the top rope and back down...]

"THUD-CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

BW: ARABIAN FACEBUSTER!

"SYKO-PATH!" "SYKO-PATH!" "SYKO-PATH!"

MH: The crowd is going nuts for the original hardcore badass here in

BSCW!

[Sykopath stands over Despair, ramming shots down into his neck.]

BW: INOUE!

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD~!

MH: RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX BY INOUE!

"CRRRRAAAAAACK!"

BW: And he leg drops that chair right into Syko's face!

MH: Inoue hooks the leg!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEE-

[Sykopath kicks out.]

MH: Near fall.

[Inoue picks Sykopath back up and slaps him in the chest with some

hard chops. He then sends him to the ropes, but Sykopath springs off

and back...]

[POP!]

MH: Handspring back elbow by Sykopath, taking Inoue down! Gorgeous

move!

"CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

[HEEL POP!]

MH: Despair with a vicious chairshot, getting back at Sykopath!

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: DDT on the chair! Despair hooks the leg!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEE-

[Sykopath kicks out.]

MH: Another near fall.

BW: Inoue back up now, and he and Despair go after Sykopath, double

teaming him!

[The crowd boos as Sykopath gets stomped by both men. Inoue picks up

Sykopath and slams him down hard to the mat. He then turns as Despair

kicks at him, but ducks it and grabs him...]

"THUUUUUD!"

MH: Great cradle suplex by Inoue on Despair! Despair missed the kick,

and Inoue countered.

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEE-

[Despair _JUST_ gets the shoulder up.]

MH: Whew, that was close. And look at Payne on the outside, he's angry

at Inoue for not getting the pinfall right there.

[Inoue pulls Despair up and sends him to the ropes, but Despair

reverses. However, Inoue comes back and just drops him with a shoulder

block. Inoue then hauls Despair up and lifts him _HIGH_ into the

air...]

"THUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: Big back drop suplex by Inoue. I don't think he liked the trick

Despair just pulled there. Back up.

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: Vicious Japanese powerbomb by Inoue!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRREEEEEEEE-

[Sykopath breaks up the pin.]

MH: Wow, this one has been all action so far. Now we've got Inoue and

Sykopath going at it once more.

[Both men trade right hands, but now Despair is back up...]

"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!"

MH: Fire extinguisher sprayed in the eyes of both men! Despair has a

quick advantage!

[Despair knocks Inoue and Sykopath's heads together and then grabs

them, running forward...]

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: Double team bulldog, driving each man down into a steel chair!

BW: I love it!

[HARDCORE POP!]

MH: Despair is getting that spool of barbed wire, now...this ain't

gonna be pretty.

[Despair cuts Sykopath in the face with the barbed wire, viciously

tearing into his flesh. Inoue is back up, but Despair turns around and

shoulders him in the gut, and then takes him down to the mat with a

barbed wire shot to the face. Despair works at tearing open Inoue as

well, and now both of his opponents are juicing.]

"BLOOD!" "BLOOD!" "BLOOD!"

BW: Well it _IS_ Bloodfest, after all.

[Despair starts unwrapping the spool of barbed wire, cutting his hands

in the process, and wraps it around his body and right arm. He then

drags Sykopath up to his feet...]

"THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

[HARDCORE POP!]

MH: _VICIOUS_ barbed wire lariat by Despair, just drilling Sykopath!

BW: And Despair is just getting started...

"THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: Now a lariat to Inoue!

[Despair picks up a kendo stick and wraps barbed wire around each end

of the stick.]

"THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: A barbed wire kendo stick shot between the eyes of Sykopath!

"THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: And one for Inoue, as well!

[INNOVATIVE SPOT POP!]

[Despair hits the ropes, kendo stick in hand, and hits a quebrada,

landing between his opponents, but nailing each in the throat an end

of the barbed wire kendo stick.]

BW: Lotsa creative offense in this one.

[Despair nails Sykopath with another shot, and Sykopath crumples to

the floor. Despair turns towards Inoue...]

MH: HE MISSED! INOUE WRAPS HIS BIG ARMS AROUND DESPAIR!

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: WHAT A BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX! INOUE CAUGHT HIM!

[Inoue quickly locks in a _VICIOUS_ leg lock, just tearing at

Despair's hamstrings, pulling violently as Despair screams in pain.]

MH: And Inoue now goes into a submission hold, here. Inoue is staying

true to his roots and trying to win this match with good, technical

wrestling.

[Despair is able to grab a hold of the ropes, and after quite a lot of

effort by the referee, Inoue breaks the hold. Despair rolls to the

floor. Inoue poses inside the ring.]

[HEEL POP!]

[Despair limps to his feet on the outside, just as Sykopath starts

sneaking up behind him. As Despair turns, Sykopath leaps and

springboards off the steel steps...]

"THUUUUUUUD!"

[POP!]

MH: Look at that move! Sykopath with a blockbuster-type move, using

the steps as a springboard! He really snapped Despair's neck there!

BW: A perfect setup for the Sykotik-DDT. And _NOBODY_ kicks out of

that.

[Meanwhile, however, Inoue has slid to the outside. Sykopath turns,

and gets some big right hands from Inoue.]

MH: Look at Kazou!

BW: He's making his presence felt.

[Kazou helps out Inoue, beating down Sykopath until Inoue literally

pushes him away, wanting to do the job himself.]

"SMACK!"

"WHOO!"

"SMACK!"

"WHOO!"

"SMACK!

"WHOO!"

MH: Inoue with more chops to weaken Sykopath. Towards the steps...

[Sykopath stops himself before hitting the steps, and leaps up on

them. As he does, he grabs a steel chair from under the apron. He

turns, tossing the chair back at Inoue, who catches it as Sykopath

flies back towards him...]

"CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

[...driving it into Inoue's face!]

[HUGE FACE POP!]

MH: MENTAL ILLNESS! SYKOPATH WITH A VARIATION OF THE MENTAL ILLNESS!

[Sykopath rolls Inoue back inside the ring and pulls a leather sack

out from under the ring. He pulls Inoue back up to his feet and winds

up...]

"SICK CRACK!"

[Inoue drops like a sack of bricks. And speaking of...]

[HARDCORE POP!]

MH: A BRICK! SYKOPATH HAD A BRICK IN THAT BAG, AND JUST DRILLED INOUE

IN THE HEAD WITH IT!

BW: GAAAAAAAAH~! BRICK SHOT TO THE CROTCH!

MH: SYKOPATH COVERS!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEE-NOOOOOOOO!

MH: Despair got back in time to break up the count! That was a close

one.

BW: When Sykopath took advantage, Kazou let Despair go, so Inoue

wouldn't be pinned.

[Despair goes after Sykopath with a series of big right hands. To the

ropes.]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: Despair with a powerslam on Sykopath.

[Despair drills Inoue with some kicks, and Inoue rolls and falls out

of the ring. Payne and Kazou are quickly over to check on him.]

"CRRRRAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: OOOOOH! Despair with a chairshot between the eyes of Sykopath!

[Despair lifts Sykopath up like he is going to hit a back drop suplex,

but instead crotches him on the top rope. Despair then places some

objects in the center of the ring and scales up behind Sykopath.]

MH: This doesn't look good...

BW: Or contrived... [cackles.]

[HIGH SPOT POP!]

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!"

"HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!"

MH: DESPAIR WITH A POISON FRANKENSTEINER TO SYKOPATH!

BW: Sending him face first through a pane of glass, set in the middle

of the ring!

MH: I think his knee hit that chair, too...

BW: Just all-around bad for Sykopath right there.

[Despair pulls Sykopath to his feet. Despair busts the rest of the

glass pane over Sykopath's head, and then drags him down with a

Fujiwara armbar. Sykopath, all bloodied up, fights it...]

MH: HUMAN TORMENT! DESPAIR GOING FOR THE HUMAN TORMENT ON THE BLOODY

SYKOPATH!

"SMAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: No! Inoue with a double foot dropkick to the face of Despair,

breaking it up!

BW: Despair's finishing maneuver is a submission hold...he's going to

have to find a way to apply it without the third guy breaking it up.

[Inoue takes Despair down with an arm drag, quickly going behind, and

applying the Miracle Lock on Despair!]

BW: MIRACLE LOCK!

MH: Sykopath is down and out after the Poison Frankensteiner, Despair

might be in trouble!

[The ref checks for a submission, but Despair doesn't give up.]

BW: Check the arm!

[The ref raises Despair's arm once...it falls.]

BW: Yup.

[The ref raises Despair's arm twice...it falls.]

BW: It's over.

[The ref raises Despair's arm for the third time...]

BW: Good solid wrestling always beats...

MH: NO! It didn't fall! Despair is fighting back!

[Despair is doing his best to escape the hold, raking Inoue in the

face with the barbed wire on his arm. However, Inoue now applies a

scissorlock, and applies the hold even tighter.]

BW: There's nowhere to go!

MH: Sykopath!

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: TWO KICKS TO INOUE, AND INOUE STILL WON'T LET GO!

[Sykopath lashes out with another kick as Inoue holds the Miracle Lock

on Despair...]

[HEEL REVERSAL POP!]

MH: HOLY SHIT! DRAGON SCREW LEG WHIP INTO AN STF ON SYKOPATH! INOUE IS

WRENCHING THE HELL OUT OF SYKOPATH'S NECK!

BW: That was _SICK_ counter!

MH: Despair is back up, and he grabs a chair!

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: HE DRILLS INOUE!

[Inoue and Sykopath lie on the mat as Despair winds up for another

shot...]

[HEEL POP!]

MH: Kazou! He just grabbed the chair from Despair!

"SMACK!"

[Kazou drills Despair with a big right hand, and Despair crumples to

the mat.]

BW: He's doing his job!

MH: He's interfering in the damn ma-

"CRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

[Sykopath pops up out of _NOWHERE_ and hits a spinning martial arts

kick into Kazou, driving the chair into his face and sending the big

man _FLYING_ off the apron and to the floor to a HUGE pop.]

MH: MENTAL ILLNESS! ANOTHER MENTAL ILLNESS!

BW: INOUE!

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: That bought Inoue just enough time, and he capitalizes with a

dragon suplex!

BW: He's holding on!

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: A second dragon suplex! Inoue holds that full nelson still!

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: A _THIRD_ dragon suplex! Inoue shows no signs of stopping!

"SICK THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: RELEASE DRAGON SUPLEX! SYKOPATH LANDED ON HIS HEAD AND IT'S OVER!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEE-

[No, Despair dives in to break up the count.]

MH: Despair breaks up the pinfall, and keeps this match alive.

BW: I just love this match, Heath. You've got two hardcore

motherfuckers out there with a guy who's just stretching and suplexing

the _SHIT_ outta them. This clash of styles is actually ending up

pretty entertaining.

[Despair and Inoue battle it out now, with Despair using the barbed

wire wrapped around his arm to his advantage. Some chops to the chest

of Inoue bloody it up, and give Despair the advantage.]

MH: Despair with a drop toe hold takedown, sending Inoue face first

into the chair.

[Despair rakes up Inoue's back with his barbed wire, and then applies

an arm bar, wrenching and cutting away at Inoue. Inoue fights out of

the hold, and both men get back to their vertical base. Despair nails

Inoue with some shots to the back at sets him up in a standing

headscissors...]

"CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: Despair piledrives Inoue on the chair! He makes the cover and

Sykopath is still down!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEE-

[Inoue kicks out.]

MH: No! Inoue still powers out! There's a lot of strength left in that

man!

BW: He may be one of the strongest men in BSCW... probably the

strongest pound for pound!

[Despair pulls Inoue up, and sends him to the ropes. Inoue holds on to

the ropes, so Despair charges him, and is dumped to the apron. Despair

kicks at Payne, giving Inoue time to nail Despair in the back with a

few shots. Inoue then steps to the apron, and looks intent on knocking

Despair off of it.]

[HEEL POP!]

MH: Inoue looks into the crowd...something very bad is going to happen

to Despair right here.

BW: LOOK OUT!

[HUGE POP!]

"CRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!"

"HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!"

MH: NEVER IN MY LIFE HAVE I SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THAT!

"HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!"

MH: What the hell did I just see?

BW: With Despair and Inoue both on the apron facing the crowd,

Sykopath came from behind, slingshotting and somersaulting over the

top rope...

MH: And taking both men to the floor with another double diamond dust!

BW: It was almost a...tope con hilo y diamond dust!

"B-S-C-DUB!" "B-S-C-DUB!" "B-S-C-DUB!"

MH: Everyone is down, everyone is out!

[Kazou grabs the fallen Inoue and helps roll him in the ring, as

Sykopath and Despair lie motionless on the floor. The ref keeps Kazou

and Payne away from them, so they try to revive Inoue.]

BW: Well, if you wanted a spotfest, you got one!

MH: No doubt about that. This place is still going nuts!

BW: This match has just been insane so far, and I'm sure we're going

to see a lot more.

MH: A win would be so big here for any of these men. On this stage, at

Bloodfest, the best should step to the plate. All three of these men

have so far tonight.

[Sykopath is up first, and he lays into Despair with some shots as

Inoue still recovers on the inside of the ring. Sykopath kicks Despair

in the face to keep him down, and then grabs a section of the guard

rail.]

"CLAAAAAAAAANK!"

MH: Sykopath runs over Despair with the guard rail! This match is

getting crazier by the second.

"CLAAAAAAAAANK!"

MH: DDT ON THE GUARD RAIL!

BW: And look at the blood gush...Despair has been busted open as well.

We've got a triple juicer on our hands here at Bloodfest.

[Sykopath rolls Despair off the guard rail and onto the mat. He then

tosses the guard rail on top of Despair and hops to the apron...]

"CRAAAAAAAASH!"

MH: SYKOPATH SPLASHES DESPAIR OFF THE APRON, WITH THE GUARD RAIL

BETWEEN THEM!

BW: The dumbass keeps showing he just _LOVES_ to hurt himself.

MH: And Asama Inoue is the man benefitting the most right now, as

Sykopath and Despair tear each other apart on the floor.

[Sykopath rolls around in pain, clutching his chest. He then makes his

way to his feet and hops back to the apron.]

MH: INOUE!

"CRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!"

MH: Inoue shoved Sykopath off the apron, and the Sykotik One was sent

flying into the rest of the guard rail!

BW: Inoue is smart. He bought some time, recovered, and took out

Sykopath.

[Inoue slides outside and picks up Sykopath, and rolls him inside the

ring, looking to finish him off.]

"SMACK!"

MH: GOOD LORD!

[Inoue unloads on Sykopath with cross faces, urakens, shotays, palm

thrusts, and chops.]

BW: I've never seen anything like that before.

MH: Gutwrench...

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: ...INTO A SPINNING DOCTOR BOMB!

BW: Pure _POWER_!

MH: Inoue hooks the leg!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEE!?!?!?

[...]

[POP!]

MH: No, Sykopath got the shoulder up!

BW: He sure did. But just barely.

MH: Back up, and it looks like Inoue wants another Doctor Bomb.

BW: DESPAIR!

[Despair is now perched up top, and as Inoue grabs the gutwrench

Despair leaps, hooking Inoue's head and twisting...]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: WHAT A TORNADO DDT!

BW: He scoops up Sykopath!

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: MICHINOKU DRIVER! INOUE IS DOWN AND OUT! DESPAIR MAKES THE COVER!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRREEEEEEEE-OHHHHHHHHHHHH!

MH: SYKOPATH KICKED OUT!

[POP!]

MH: What a near fall that was! Kazou and Payne take a deep breath

outside the ring, because Inoue almost had the match taken away from

him right there!

[Inoue turns and is back up, but takes a stiff kick to the face from

Despair. Despair then grabs a front chancery and lifts Inoue up to the

top rope as Sykopath rolls to the floor, trying to recover.]

MH: Despair has something big planned here!

[Despair and Inoue fight it out on the top rope, Inoue not wanting to

give an inch. Some Despair forearm shots daze him, however. Despair

locks his arms around Inoue and lifts, falling backwards...]

[Down...]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[INNOVATIVE MOVE POP!]

MH: DESPAIR'S TRADEMARK BELLY-BELLY MOONSAULT! HE CRUSHED INOUE, AND

MAKES THE COVER!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

MH: Did he...

[The ref holds up two fingers!]

BW: No, Inoue got the shoulder up, Heath!

MH: He sure did, and the match will go on! Despair can't believe it!

[Despair pulls Inoue back up and goes behind with a waistlock, but

Inoue throws some back elbows into his jaw and then goes behind

himself. He waistlocks and lifts...]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[HEEL POP!]

MH: SHUTTLE LOOP BUSTER! INOUE SUPLEXED DESPAIR ALL THE WAY ONTO HIS

STOMACH AND HOOKS THE LEG!

ONE!!

TWO!!

"THWAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: Sykopath breaks it up with a kick to the face of Inoue! Syko with

a waistlock, but Inoue reverses! Shuttle...NO!

[POP!]

"SMACK!"

MH: Sykopath landed on his feet and took out Inoue with a spear! Right

hands to the face by Sykopath, as the crowd erupts!

[Sykopath slides outside the ring and plunders under the ring.]

[HARDCORE POP!]

MH: And here come the tables!

[Sykopath sets two up outside the ring, double decker style, and

slides another one into the ring.]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: Despair nails a double arm DDT on Inoue!

[Despair grabs a chair and tosses it to Sykopath, who catches it.

Despair with a spin kick...]

[POP!]

MH: Sykopath ducks!

[Sykopath tosses the chair back to Despair, who catches it like an

idiot...]

"CRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: MENTAL ILLNESS! _ANOTHER_ MENTAL ILLNESS BY SYKOPATH!

"CRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!

MH: SPEAR! SYKOPATH SPEARS DESPAIR THROUGH THE TABLE!

[Despair is left in shambles in the corner, as Sykopath gets back up

and sees Inoue charging at him. He leapfrogs, and then tries a

spinning heel kick...]

MH: OHHHHHH! Inoue snapped off a mid air dragon screw leg whip, and I

think he just tore Sykopath's hamstring in two!

BW: That was just _NASTY_!

MH: Inoue scoops up Sykopath, and now gets an arm drag, right into a

cross arm breaker. Look at Inoue wrench at the arm of Sykopath!

BW: The most dangerous armbreaker since DDI's!

MH: ...

BW: Okay, it's _WAY_ better than DDI's! And I wouldn't be surprised if

Inoue snaps a few arms before his time is done here.

[Sykopath reaches out and grabs the ropes, and the referee forcefully

makes Inoue break the hold. Behind the ref's back, Kazou drills

Sykopath with a right hand to the head. Sykopath slumps on the canvas

as Inoue drags him back to the center of the ring. He lifts him up in

the air...

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[...and then _DESTROYS_ Sykopath with a massive Jacknife powerbomb. He

turns to see Despair coming...]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: Sitdown angry man spinebuster! And back to Sykopath goes Inoue,

locking in that cross-armbreaker!

BW: He may have the submission right here!

MH: Sykopath could be in some trouble here, Despair is down and out

and he Syko can't reach the ropes!

BW: Inoue's got him, baby!

[Sykopath reaches for the ropes...]

[The ref checks for a submission...]

[Closer...]

[POP!]

MH: Sykopath got the ropes! He got them!

[Inoue wastes no time in pulling Sykopath right back to the center of

the ring.]

"CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: DESPAIR WITH A CHAIRSHOT TO THE BACK OF INOUE'S HEAD!

"CRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: He takes out Sykopath for good measure!

[Despair hops to the top rope, with Inoue on the floor and Sykopath

down in the center of the ring. Kazou and Payne quickly try to revive

Inoue as Despair prepares, and leaps...]

#FLASH# #FLASH# #FLASH# #FLASH#

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[HIGH SPOT POP!]

MH: SHOOTING STAR PRESS! IT CONNECTS AND DESPAIR MAKES THE PIN!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEE!?!?!?

[Did he get him?]

[...]

MH: INOUE BROKE IT UP JUST IN TIME! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

BW: So, _SO_ close!

MH: Inoue kicks Despair to the gut. Standing headscissors.

Powerbomb...

[REVERSAL POP!]

MH: HUMAN TORMENT! MY GOD WHAT A REVERSAL TO THE HUMAN TORMENT! IT'S

LOCKED IN!

BW: Despair flipped out of the powerbomb in midair and hooked Inoue's

arm...and now the Human Torment is applied!

MH: Despair's trademark armbar/neck crank submission hold is locked

in...and this one may be over!

[The ref checks for a submission...]

MH: Sykopath needs to break this up!

[Inoue fights...]

BW: Despair isn't budging! Inoue is stuck!

[The ref checks once again...]

[POP!]

MH: Sykopath is back up! He doesn't even know what's going on...

[Kazou reaches his arm out for Inoue to grab, but Inoue can't

reach...]

[POP!]

MH: SYKOPATH PULLS DESPAIR OFF! Spin kick to the face!

BW: HERE IT COMES!

[...]

[Sykopath hits the ropes, leaping on Despair in a crucifix position

while spinning around and driving his head down to the mat...]

"MASSIVE MOTHERFUCKING

THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[MEGA HUGE POP!]

MH: SYKOTIK DDT! SYKOTIK DDT! NOBODY HAS EVER KICKED OUT OF IT!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

[That's gotta be it...]

[...]

[HEEL POP!]

MH: NO! INOUE BROKE IT UP JUST IN TIME!

BW: Whew~!

MH: Inoue, holding his arm in pain, was _JUST_ able to break up the

pinfall, or Sykopath would have had the match won!

[Despair rolls out of the ring and crumples to the floor, and Sykopath

and Inoue trade stiff shots. Inoue tries a head and arm suplex, but

Sykopath lands on his feet!]

[POP!]

"SMACK!"

MH: Martial arts kick!

BW: HERE IT COMES AGAIN!

[SYKOTIK DDT POP...]

MH: NO!

[HEEL REVERSAL POP!]

MH: ONI-GATAME! INOUE REVERSES IN MIDAIR TO HIS DEADLY CROSSFACE

SUBMISSION HOLD!

BW: That's what it's all about, baby! This one is _OVER_!

MH: Fight it, Sykopath!

[Inoue pulls back and wrenches at Sykopath's neck with all he has,

_REALLY_ pulling back with his crossface submission hold.]

MH: LOOK AT INOUE! HE'S LIKE A BULLDOG!

BW: Look at Sykopath! He's...like...gonna tap!

MH: Despair needs to break this up, because Sykopath isn't going to

get to the ropes!

BW: You're right for once, Heath!

MH: Or is he?

[Sykopath fights to escape Inoue's hold, looking for any possible way

to get a foot or a hand to the ropes. He struggles, but Inoue just

won't let him loose. The ref checks once again for the submission.]

BW: IT'S OVER! TAP! TAP! TAP!

MH: ...

[Sykopath reaches for the ropes, one last, desperate attempt, but he

can't reach them...]

[He goes to tap...]

[POP!]

MH: DESPAIR! DESPAIR GOT THERE JUST IN TIME, AND HE'S BEATING THE HELL

OUT OF INOUE!

BW: INOUE DOESN'T WANT TO LET GO!

[Despair pulls Inoue off of Sykopath and drives him to the mat with an

Implant DDT. Sykopath has meanwhile rolled to the floor, looking for

any time whatsoever to recover.]

MH: Look at Despair!

BW: He's wrapping himself in barbed wire!

MH: Despair is absolutely insane, and this match is about to be taken

to another level...

[Despair kicks Inoue through the ropes, sending him back into the

guard rail. Kazou gets on the apron on the other side of the ring, but

Despair drills him with a right hand, sending GORILLA to the floor.

Sykopath and Inoue _SLOWLY_ get up on the outside as Despair gets

ready and takes flight...]

[MEGA HUGE HIGH SPOT HARDCORE POP!]

"CRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAASH!"

[Let the chants begin.]

"HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!"

MH: ...

BW: Damn...

MH: OH MY GAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWD~!

BW: Despair with a barbed-wire covered Space Flying Tiger Drop!

MH: Despair takes out both men! Barbed wire sticking into the skin of

all three men! Good God!

[Despair gets up, unwrapping some of the barbed wire from around his

body, and then taking it...]

[SICK BLOODLUST POP!]

MH: Despair grinds that barbed wire into both his opponents' faces!

BW: BLOOD! GOOD GOD, WE'VE GOT BLOOD!

MH: Holy shit.

BW: Don't puke all over _me_, Heath.

[Despair kicks Inoue in the head and drags a lifeless Sykopath to the

apron. Despair enters the ring, and prepares to suplex Sykopath

inside, but Syko holds onto the ropes to block. Syko knees Despair in

the gut, and then hits some elbow strikes. He turns Despair around,

putting his arms in a straight jacket position while lifting him

_OVER_ the top rope and back...]

"CRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAASH!"

"HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT!"

MH: THE END TO SANITY! SYKOPATH SAID HE'D DEBUT HIS NEW FINISHER, AND

HE JUST PUT DESPAIR THROUGH TWO TABLES WITH THAT STRAIGHTJACKET GERMAN

SUPLEX ONTO HIS HEAD! HOLY _SHIT_!

"BSC-DUB!" "BSC-DUB!" "BSC-DUB!"

[Sykopath _SLOWLY_ starts to get back up, as Despair lies in a pile of

broken table shards. Sykopath hauls Despair up with all the strength

he has, and rolls Despair's lifeless body into the ring. Sykopath

turns to see Inoue up and coming at him, but is able to get in some

kicks to keep Inoue at bay. He gutwrenches Inoue and lifts...]

"SICK THUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[HUGE POP!]

MH: HOSPITALIZATIONALIZER! DID I SAY THAT RIGHT?

BW: WHAT A GUTWRENCH PILEDRIVER ON THE FLOOR!

MH: And now he can finish Despair off on the inside!

[Sykopath enters the ring and picks up Despair, who is trying to find

some energy, enough to even stand. Payne and Kazou rush to check on

Inoue on the floor.]

MH: Irish whip!

[Sykopath waistlocks Despair as he comes back, backing up and dropping

him throat first across the top rope, stunning him with a hot shot. He

then quickly lifts him into a fireman's carry, the spinning him around

and driving him to the mat with a stunner finish...]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[HUGE POP!]

MH: SYKO KRUSHER! SYKO KRUSHER! HE HIT IT! HE HIT IT!

[Sykopath holds his shoulder, grimacing in pain, not able to make the

cover.]

BW: Yeah, but Inoue and Despair have hurt Sykopath so badly...his

shoulder _has_ to be separated. I can't believe he even could hit that

move!

MH: Cover him, Sykopath! Cover him! Right after the End of Sanity

through two tables...it's over if he can make the cover!

[Sykopath moves closer...]

[And drapes an arm over Despair!]

MH: THE COVER!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEE!?!?!?!?!

[...]

[Did he...]

[The ref holds up...]

[TWO FINGERS!]

MH: INOUE _JUST_ BROKE IT UP! SYKOPATH HAD IT WON!

BW: INOUE!

"SMACK!"

MH: HOLY _SHIT_!

[Inoue goes nuts on Sykopath, nailing him with strikes, palm thrusts,

kicks, and chops. Sykopath falls to the outside of the ring as Inoue

turns to the downed Despair and hooks the leg...]

...only to see Travis LaGrange and Spikyjim make their way to the

ring!]

[HEEL POP!]

MH: SUICIDE KINGS! THE KINGS ARE HERE TO SAVE DESPAIR!

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: LAGRANGE TAKES OUT KAZOU AND PAYNE WITH CHAIRSHOTS!

"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!"

MH: SPIKYJIM SPITS BLUE MIST INTO SYKOPATH'S FACE!

"MEGA THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: DRUNK DRIVER ON THE FLOOR! WHAT A BRAINBUSTER ON THE FLOOR!

SYKOPATH IS DEAD! SYKOPATH IS DEAD!

[LaGrange charges into the ring at Inoue, but Inoue _SNAPS_, after

seeing Payne hurt!]

"SMACK!"

[Palm thrusts, shotays, kicks, chops, crossfaces, taking out

LaGrange!]

"SMACK!"

[Spikyjim charges the ring and gets taken out as well!]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: Inoue tosses Spikyjim out of the way with a vicious half nelson

suplex!

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: And he _LARIATS_ LaGrange to the floor with authority!

BW: Now we've got chaos, Heath.

[GORILLA goes after LaGrange and Spikyjim for taking out Payne.

Despair is back up, and he comes at Inoue with a chair in hand,

ramming it into Inoue's midsection.]

"THWAAAAAAAACK!"

MH: Despair with a front Russian leg sweep, sending Inoue face first

into the chair!

[Despair quickly hauls Inoue back up and grabs a pumphandle. He lifts

him onto his shoulder and runs forward, driving Inoue down and hard to

the mat....]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: LIGER BOMB! LIGER BOMB! DESPAIR JUST NAILED A LIGER BOMB AND HOOKS

THE LEG!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE!?!?!?!?

[...]

[Inoue kicked out at the last second!]

MH: JESUS CHRIST, WHAT WILL KEEP ONE OF THESE GUYS DOWN?

BW: I'm fucking clueless. Who knows?

[Despair picks Inoue back up again, sending some knees into his jaw.

He goes back and grabs another pumphandle, and lifts Inoue up

again...]

[REVERSAL POP!]

BW: UH OH!

MH: ONI-GATAME! INOUE REVERSES THE LIGER BOMB INTO HIS CROSSFACE, AND

NOW DESPAIR HAS NOWHERE TO GO!

BW: Sykopath is down and out on the floor after that Drunk Driver! I

don't think he can get back up!

MH: Despair is in trouble! Despair is in _BIG_ trouble!

[The ref checks for a submission, but Despair won't give up.]

MH: Despair is fighting! By God, he's fighting!

[Security, meanwhile, has pulled the Suicide Kings off of Kazou and

Payne on the outside, and separates the mobs. Cut back to the ring,

with Inoue pulling back with _EVERYTHING_ he has.]

MH: DESPAIR WON'T TAP!

BW: HE'S FADING, THOUGH!

[The ref checks Despair...]

MH: I think Despair is passing out!

BW: It's over!

[The ref goes to ring the bell, and the audience gasps until we hear

Despair scream at the top of his lungs

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"]

[The ref turns around, looking at Despair in disbelief.]

MH: DESPAIR WILL _NOT_ QUIT!

[Inoue finally releases the hold, and lifts Despair up, backing into

the corner.

MH: OH MY GOD...

BW: Inoue is gonna put Despair away, one way or another!

[Inoue has Despair back first on his shoulders, and runs forward...]

MH: OH NO!

[He drives Despair down to the canvas, head first...]

"MASSIVE

THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD

MH: DEMON BUSTER DRIVER! HOLY GOD, INOUE KILLED HIM!

BW: I FUCKING GUARANTEE, IT'S _OVER_!

MH: INOUE HOOKS THE LEG!

ONE!!

TWO!!

THRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

[...]

[Wait for it...]

[DING! DING! DING!]

[HEEL POP / GREAT MATCH POP!]

Jared Lord: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match...

A S A M A "G A T A M E" I N O U E ! ! !

[HEEL POP / GREAT MATCH POP!]

MH: My God, folks. We saw one helluva battle right there.

BW: That wasn't a battle. That was a war.

[Inoue slides out of the ring and checks on Payne and Kazoue at

ringside.]

MH: SUICIDE KINGS!

BW: THEY'RE BACK!

[The Kings run out, and all hell breaks loose. Inoue and company fight

the Suicide Kings, while Despair lies motionless in the ring.]

MH: SHRAPNEL!

[Shrapnel comes out to aid Sykopath, and soon the New Abortions are in

the middle of an all out brawl as well!]

MH: THIS IS PANDEMONIUM!

BW: WE HAVE A RIOT ON OUR HANDS!

[And cue the security...]

[And more security...]

[And _MORE_ security...]

[A flood of security hits the ringside area, separating all the

factions. Shrapnel and Sykopath, Lagrange and Spikyjim, Inoue, Payne

and Kazou. A stretcher is brought out to the ring for Despair.]

BW: [laughing.] BSCW. Ain't it great?

MH: And we've still got _PLENTY_ more craziness to come...

[Backstage.]

[The locker room area. The sign on the door says "THE SUICIDE

KINGS".... but underneath it there is another notice, one that reads

"Do not disturb". This being TV, the door is prised open to reveal

just one of the Suicide Kings.... BSCW Cruiserweight champion and all

around motormouth, SPIKYJIM. The Real American Psycho is sat wearing

just his black combat shorts......revealing the network of scars and

tattoos that criss-cross his body. His belt laid out beside him, his

boots in a pile in front of him. He's busy taping up his wrists, his

left already half done before you realise what he's doing. He smiles

and smoothes out his blue hair as he sees the camera]

S: As always, I see. A true journalist can never read a

fucking sign.

[Spiky stands up and lurches at the cameraman. The picture moves in

and out of focus as a clear disturbance occurs.... which somehow ends

up with The Hardcore Shining Light wresting the camera away from the

cameraman and placing it on the table in front of him. Spiky sits

back down.]

S: Welcome to Spikyjim television. All Spikyjim, all the

time.

[Spiky goes to resume his wrist taping..... but stops and looks at the

flesh on his wrists and forearms. Badly scarred, burned flesh.

Subconsciously, something makes him reach up and tough the significant

scar in his hairline.... and something equally subconscious makes him

pull away rapidly.]

S: Everybody loves to laugh. Laugh at Jimmy. The Barnett

family's proudest achievement. I'm like a stand up comedian all the

live long day to entertain a bunch of people I don't like..... to find

the promised land. But.... all I'm doing is living the American

dream. Is it not a man's right to better himself? You're telling me

that you're sitting at home right now.... and if Burger King or

McDonalds came and offered you a job.... you wouldn't go and tell your

boss at Arby's or Popeye's or Long John Silver's where to stick it?

That is what I find so totally DISGUSTING about each and every

wrestling fan out there... the hypocrisy. I'm not allowed to better

myself. Selfish bastards, you just want ME to be here for YOU.

Richard Vail wants ME to be here for HIM. And The Scrayper?

Had you heard of him before I hit him with THE LIVING END?

[Spiky's voice is slower than normal. He runs a hand up the scars on

his left arm, his eyes always looking at them, and never into the

camera]

S: BSCW is on pay per view, and so am I, once again. And I'm

sure that tonight my match with The Scrayper will be a DOOZY. He'll

kick my ass, I'll kick his ass, we'll bleed, do some crazy ass shit

and all go home the better for it.... me with my belt, him with

NOTHING. And I'm sure I'll get another scar. Like those in my face

from his staplegun. The ones he gave me, and the ones I gave MYSELF.

Why? Because last Venom... I decided to remind The Scrayper and the

whole of BSCW and all those little marks on the internet that The

Scrayper isn't the loose cannon in BSCW.

I AM.

I'm more hardcore that anyone else. These scars on my arms came from

powerbombing someone through a flaming table. I did it twice. And my

arms caught fire. And I didn't stop... I couldn't stop. Because I

ENJOY it. Being paid for what I do is a JOY that you people out there

flipping burgers for a living will never understand. I like my job.

But I'm better than this cesspool.

[Spiky takes out the ol' promo staple... the cigarette. He lights it

and takes a deep lungful of smoke]

S: I'm tougher than you all. I've broken every bone. I've

taken a gangland beating and lived. I've lived with sickness and

weakness all my life, and overcome it all. I've bounced back from

alcoholism and drug abuse without having to find Jesus or any of that

cornball weak ass shit. I didn't need a helping hand from somebody

else. I won't stop to be a good Samaritan because how can people

learn if they need the help of others? Scrayper has Spize. Where is

my manager, Scrayper? Huh? Do you have an analyst too for your inner

rage? Couldn't you be strong enough to face your thoughts alone, to

descend into the deepest recesses of your black mind and uncover the

secrets of what makes you the way you are? No. Because you're not

tough. You're another fly by night, hackneyed, laboured Spikyjim

wannabe, being "insane" for a few months and never, EVER living the

real deal. And yet... who do the people cheer? The weakling. The

pathetic excuse for a wrestler. Not the strong one. Because human

nature likes an underdog. Why cheer me when I'm NEVER the underdog?

[More smoke. Spiky holds the cigarette in his mouth and continues

taping things up. He speaks out of the corner of his mouth.]

S: Do you people know what RESPECT is? No. Scrayper doesn't

either. Because he doesn't respect me like he should. He should

appreciate that I'm being held back to help guys like HIM. If he can

just LIVE after meeting me.... well, there's a story for the

grandchildren. Getting up... eventually... after a LIVING END?

[Spiky stops taping to clap sarcastically]

S: Wow. You got yourself a gimmick for life there, Mister.

You hold onto that now, you hear?

[Spiky finishes taping one arm, and takes his cigarette out of his

mouth. He looks right into the camera for the first real time... his

eyes bloodshot and lazy, his smile awkward and disturbing.]

S: Remind me, Scrayper... just exactly WHAT did I do to tick

you off? Because I don't remember walking into BSCW and looking at

YOU as the person I disliked the most until you decided to staple me

and my friends. And because of what you did.... we're booked to meet

each other tonight. I could have been in the main event... but no.

I've got to wrestle you... in the loosest terms, of course, because

every man and his dog knows that you can't actually WRESTLE. You

brawl. Garbage wrestling. You'd probably say "just like you,

Spiky"... but the difference is that I can do both. Better than you.

And I'm not in the main event that I wanted tonight, because you

stapled me. A petty little incident from another insignificant number

in my "win" column and... hey presto, here we are. Like I say,

Scrayper... I didn't hate you... or even know you when we first met.

BUT I DO NOW.

I HATE YOU because you're keeping me from setting the wrestling world

on fire in a main event that should be featuring ME. Still, instead

I'll set you on fire.

I HATE YOU because you're a cruiserweight. Curse my metabolism and

picky promoters like Vail keeping me away from the heavyweights. He

fears me. They fear me. But as long as I have another cruiserweight

who dislikes me...

I HATE YOU because you can't wrestle, can't talk, look like a horses

ass and... I turned on my PC the other day and what did I see? Hordes

and hordes of fan sites for YOU. People saying that the latest up and

coming talent in wrestling is YOU. Speaking about you like you're a

favourite to beat ME. Forgetting that you're NOTHING and making you

SOMETHING because I've beaten you up a couple of times and you've got

a gimmick that involves using a foreign object. Woo hoo. Think

you'll get to the promised land before me? Is that your goal?

Try doing THAT with a BROKEN NECK.

[Spiky stops, and closes his eyes. He takes two drags on his

cigarette, exhaling each slowly in turn. He is silent for a few

seconds, and then opens his eyes again. They flick around the room,

and his face twitches a little as his voice gets higher and more

whining...]

S: Know what I really hate about you, Scrayper? Nobody knows

shit about you, but you've got everybody talking about your past, the

rumours, the whispers... you've got scars just like me... each telling

a story too dark and brooding for anyone to bear but YOURSELF. And

everybody thinks that makes you a superstar. It made me one. But

people are forgetting me. The more I talk about the EMWC, the more I

wait for the phone and the more I pray and pray that they'll call....

because having a tortured soul is fine and dandy when it pays

handsomely... but pretty shitty when it leaves you here. Oh yeah, I'm

a BIG NAME. Bigger than YOU. But when I hear people SYMPATHISE with

you... you fucking mask wearing FREAK... I start to boil inside. I

feel the bile rise in my throat and it;s all I can do not to start

vomiting blood through my poor, blackened eyes... because you don't

know true suffering. You may close your eyes and feel the dark

thoughts... but mine are darker. And you disrespect me so...

motherfucking little NO-NAME, coming to MY federation and trying to

take MY belt on the premise of MY gimmick? Huh? WHAT GIVES YOU THE

RIGHT? Huh? WHAT MAKES YOU SO SPECIAL? Huh?

SUFFERING?

You can feel that, my friend.

THE LIVING END.

[Spiky stops to calm himself down. He grabs a t-shirt from his bag

and puts it on... it's black and reads "DRUNK DRIVER" on the front...

and no doubt "LIVING END" on the back.]

S: At least you haven't ripped off my catchphrase yet. But I

once knew a man who looked like you, Scrayper. He wore a white mask.

He looked a little like me. Unless my poor swollen brain says

otherwise.... it was me. Kuroi Tenshi. The masked psychopath from

Japan. Yet another persona for Jimmy. As many inring personas as

voices in my head... but who will YOU get tonight, Scrayper?

Laughing, joking Spikyjim... Suicide King and BIG NAME MARQUEE PLAYER?

Or insane, sick Spikyjim. The man who has more scars that you. A

darker past than you. More responsibility and more PRESSURE than you.

The REAL AMERICAN PSYCHO. Which one?

I'll be the judge.

[Spiky grabs his belt and throws it over his shoulder]

S This little belt stays with me. Call 911.

THE FUTURE IS BRIGHT...

THE FUTURE...

IS...

BLUE.

[Spiky gets up and leaves, kicking the camera over. Upside down, we

see something hanging behind where Spikyjim was sitting.... a white

mask? Fade.]

[Nothingness...

...emptiness...

...but even the darkness has its horrors...

..the familiar low hissing voice can be heard.]

V/O: And so Jesus walked into the motel... he threw down two nails

and asks the man, can you put me up for the night?

[And with that we fade into a shot of the bowed head of the Scrayper.

Well, it's not his head, but the top of the mask and the strands of

rubber white hair that have more or less been glued or even taped to

the top of it. Behind his head seems to be a wide wooden board which

doesn't seem to be a natural wall or other obvious background. From

off camera, we can hear the voice of a Southern Preacher.. Jeremiah

Spize.]

MS: They have long persecuted it, teamed up and kicked it around...

this, this is no longer acceptable to us and to our goals, so sayeth

Jeremiah Spize. The Suicide Kings may claim to be headed to the land

of Blue... but in reality my friends, they are headed to the land of

the damned.

[No movement by the camera, just the continued shot of the Scrayper's

head hung.]

S: Do you remember what you said on Venom, LaGrange? Those words that

came from your lips so easily... you know, when you asked that

question of me... do I think I'm a martyr?

[As the words leave the slit in the mask that serves for his mouth,

you can see his head bounce a little... maybe there's a smile under

that mask?]

S: Do I look like a martyr? Do I act like a martyr?

[He trails off a bit.]

S: You were right.

But there's a difference between myself and Christ... he died for the

sins of the world, I have tried and failed at dying for my own sins.

[And just then, the camera pulls back a little bit, not enough to see

more than just the collar of his shirt and the tops of his arms. At

this point, you can tell that his collar is the actual collar that a

preacher would wear, the old white on black deal.]

S: I've tried to leave it into the hands of the Suicide Kings... but

every time they've gotten to the point of finishing me off for good...

they've backed down and walked away. I guess, I should have never

have left it into the hands of the unwilling... at Bloodfest, I take

it back it into my own hands.

So, I ask you again... could you put me up for the night?

[And with that the camera pulls back fully, and we see that the arms

of the Scrayper have been held out to their sides this whole time and

he himself is backed up against a large wooden cross which has been

fasten to the ground. The Scrayper is wearing a full priests black

shirt, and has his sleeves have been rolled up somewhat and the

obvious scars across his wrists can only tell you what he's done to

himself.]

MS: Teased, tormented and ultimately left unfulfilled... the Suicide

Kings have given my Scrayper no choice. No choice at all, in fact.

They have tried, but haven't tried hard enough to finish him off,

maybe... when they look upon the mask of the Scrayper they lose their

will. Just maybe, when they come to that point, some form of humanity

grows in the pit of their souls and give into remorse or mercy.

[At this point Spize cracks a wicked smile.]

MS: Such a pity. It's just a shame that when the tables are turned,

you're all going to find out that humanity... isn't a quality it has.

Bloodfest? It is going to make bloodfest, the understatement of the

year.

[And with that, Spize drops his head as the Scrayper takes over the

talking in his normal, unemotional, inhuman, and evil hiss of a

voice.]

S: And when it is over, I promise you... it'll take more than three

days for me to rise again.

[We fade to black, and back to the ring.]

[The lights in the arena go completely black... total darkness. A

guitar riff starts off very slowly, it is from Slayer's "Dead Skin

Mask" the music continues to play, but what you should be paying

attention to is the bright white pale beam that slowly widens near the

entrance portal.]

# How I've waited for you to come #

# I've been here all alone #

# Now that you've arrived, please stay awhile #

# And I promise I won't keep you long.. #

# I'll keep you forever (forever) #

[The light beam shows none other than the "Twisted" Mr. Spize standing

in the aisle with a rather twisted looking smile on his face. The

light shines down on his balding head, as he adjusts the collar to his

black jacket and begins to head towards the ring... at a regular pace.

As Mr. Spize exits the light, the only light in the arena, soon

walking behind him is one figure. The house lights slowly light up as

he walks slowly towards the ring. He is the one called "The

Scrayper".]

# Graze the skin with my finger tips #

# The brush of dead cold flesh appeases the means #

# Provoking images delicate features so smooth #

# A pleasant fragrance in the light of the moon #

[The Scrayper wears a long black leather trenchcoat which covers his

small frame, it is completely buckled up and sports a couple of rips

and tear here and there. But that's not the oddest thing, he wears a

pale white mask in the style of Micheal Myers. It is devoid of any

human characteristics, except for the white hair which has been fused

into the top of the mask.]

# Dance with the dead in my dreams #

# Listen to their hallowed screams #

# The dead have taken my soul #

# Temptation's lost all control #

[They make their way to the ring, completely freaking out the crowd as

they pass. Mr. Spize pulls the buckles apart quickly, and then removes

the coat from the body of the Scrayper. He wears a pair of dark red

loose fitted satin pants, this is topped off with a plain white

sleeveless t-shirt. His upperarms are covered in scars from all of his

wars and his forearms are taped to the bottom of his wrists in white

tape... his hands are then covered in fingerless black gloves. The

music fades as he climbs into the ring.]

MH: The Challenger for the Cruiserweight title already in the ring...

BW: Hrmm.. I don't see his staple guns... oh wait... yes I do. Good ole

Mr. Spize.

[The Scrayper paces the ring ferally. Unexpectedly the lights go off... and

to a BIG POP from the smarky fans hits "Cherub Rock by the Smashing

Pumpkins.]

MH: This is the music of...

BW: Nah, couldn't be..

[The lights comes back on and you thought the pop before was loud?]

MH: "KICHIGAIJIMITA" KUROI TENSHI!! THAT IS SPIKYJIM'S ALTER EGO!!

BW: What in the hell is happening here?

[The masked version of Spikyjim, complete with Mike Myers like mask, dressed

all in black, strikes out with shocking speed, lighting up the Scrayper with

a series of forearms, hard, stiff forearms driving him back towards the

corner.]

MH: Spiky... I mean Tenshi is taking it to The Scrayper here and I... I

can't believe this! Spikyjim reverted to a personality none of us have seen

since Master of the Ring!

BW: This is the gay. Why couldn't he just come as the blue haired ass

version?

MH: No one can explain why he does what he does... Irish whip across the

ring, The Scrayper hits hard and comes stumbling out...

"THUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[POP!]

MH: OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!

BW: The Scrayper went flying head over heels!

"THWAAAAAAAAAAP!"

MH: And Tenshi LEVELS him with a _HUGE_ lariat! The Dark Angel is back

folks! Spikyjim is no more, replaced by Kuroi Tenshi and he is ...on no

Bil! He is setting him up...

[Grabbing the dazed The Scrayper, Tenshi lifts him... weaves one arm through

for a pumphandle and hooks...

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

...heaving him overhead with a wrist clutch exploder~!]

BW: RIGHT ON HIS HEAD!

MH: THE GRACE AND BEAUTY OF DEVASTATION! HE HIT IT!! HE HIT IT ALREADY!

BW: Wow... what a stupid, stupid name.

MH: This match is over already!

ONE!

TW--KICKOUT!

[The Scrayper, having just landed on his head, having just taking a sharp,

quick beating shocks the world by not only kicking out but doing it

convincingly, getting to his feet!]

BW: This Tenshi guy, whoever he is... he is shocked! Look at his face!

MH: ...it is behind a mask though.

[Tenshi/Spiky moves quickly, throwing a hard knee to the gut of The

Scrayper, pumphandling him again. He lifts... and The Scrayper goes with

him, using the momentum to flip and roll behind him. Tenshi turns around...

"SMAAAAAACK!"

...right into a KILLER superkick!]

MH: That one stunned Tenshi!

"THWAAAAP!"

MH: YAKUZA!!

BW: What in the hell?! Didn't this nut just get dropped on his fricking

head? That no selling, NEO wannabe!

MH: Watch the insults, Bil

"THWAAAAP!"

[BIG POP!]

MH: ANOTHER YAKUZA KICK AND...

[And he is interrupted by a _MONSTER_ POP as he reaches over to his

manager... and is handed his weapon of choice, a well known weapon... a

stapler! Tenshi is stunned, barely able to even kneel and that costs him as

The Scrayper grabs the mask ...

KA-THUNK!

..and drives a staple right into it and into his forehead! He grabs the

mask again and tears it off... AS THE LIGHTS GO OFF AGAIN!]

BW: What in the living hell is going on here!? How do the lights go off in

an outdoor arena?!

MH: Well this is an evening show and this place is extensively lighted but

everything just went off and... and is that someone in there? Did someone

just enter the ring?

[A shadow can indeed be seen moving ans as the lights pour back on we see

who it is...

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

...but not before he destroys a chair over the head of the The Scrayper. We

are talking "Hardest chairshot ever". We are talking "I better rewind

because there is no way a guy just got hit that hard. Oh and 'he'?...]

MH: SPIKYJIM!!?!! SPIKYJIM JUST LEVELED SCRAYPER AND--

BW: Wow, this is getting confusing. That _wasn't_ Spikyjim under the mask

like you thought.

MH: It was "Union" Jack Worth, Spikyjim's agent! This was all a big set up

and it cost The Scrayper!

BW: Cost him a few brain cells. That chair shot was sick, sick, sick.

[The crowd is on their feet, going absolutely nuts as a cane wielding

Spikyjim stands over the fallen The Scrayper, Worth sliding out of the ring

in mucho pain. He stumbles away, down the aisle to the back as the smiling

blue haired freak pulls The Scrayper up to his feet, winds back and WHACKS~!

him over the head with the cane!]

MH: DAMN! What a cane shot!

"WHACK~!"

BW: And another!

MH: Spikyjim just destroying The Scrayper here with that cane, hooks...

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[I KNOW THAT MOVE POP!]

...WHITE RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP!

ONE!

TWO!

[And again The Scrayper surprises everyone, kicking out... and with some

conviction behind it. Spikyjim even shows the shock... fear?... getting

back up and waiting, motioning for him to get back to his feet, cane poised

for a homerun swing.]

MH: Spikyjim is looking to finish this match and The Scrayper off but I

have a feeling it is going to take a bit more then a cane to do it. The

athletes here in BSCW are as resilient as they come. A cane shot isn't

going to take them down and out.

BW: This isn't going to be a normal cane shot, not a chance in hell.

MH: The Scrayper is getting up and looks out of it, Bil, Spiky winding

up....

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!"

CROWD: OHHHHHHHHHHH!

[The crowd ERUPTS as Spiky not only smashes The Scrayper with the cane...

but utterly destroys it in the process, pieces flying everywhere, the

remnants a shattered, bent, broken mess.]

MH: This is it..

ONE!

TWO!

[KICKOUT AND POP!]

MH: The Scrayper somehow kicks out again!

BW: Notice it wasn't as fast as the last couple times? I think the beating

he is taking is really getting to him.

MH: Spikyjim is a dangerous opponent, there is no need for me to say it,

and he is showing it here keeping on The Scrayper... if not showing a bit of

hesitance doing so. I think he is still taken aback by the masked man.

BW: Are you saying he is scared.

MH: No. Die.

BW: I have always hated you. _Always_

[Pulling up The Scrayper, Spiky hooks him and lifts, throwing him over...

"THUUUUUUUUD!"

...with a monster Uranage! Right away he is up, stomping away on the downed

challenger, not even bothering with a pin. The Scrayper tries to clamber to

his feet, towards a corner, Spiky staying on him.]

MH: Spikyjim laying into The Scrayper with stomps and forearms, not

allowing him to get anything going here. Irish whip...REVERSED! Spikyjim

hits the corner hard, The Scrayper charging in [SMACK!] SPIKY GETS THE BOOT

UP!

[POP!]

BW: And tosses him to the floor! The Scrayper went for another try but no

luck. Maybe if the freak didn't wear a mask... wait... you don't think he

heard me do you?

MH: The Scrayper is out on the floor, Spikyjim in and.... [HUGE POP!]

TOOOOOOOOOOOOPEEEEEEEEEEEEE~!

[The crowd ERUPTS as Spikyjim hits a tope through the ropes, driving The

Scrayper into the railing!]

B-S-C-DUB! B-S-C-DUB!

MH: What a dive! Spiky is known for being an insane monster in there and

that just shows you why!

BW: He's going to break his neck someday... not that seeing people die

isn't fun.

MH: Spikyjim pulling up The Scrayper [THUD!] .. and into the ring post he

goes! Spikyjim is dominating and... and he has another chair!!

[The crowd POPS as he lifts the steel high and CRAAAAAAACKS! The Scrayper

with another chairshot, square over the head , the masked man dropping.

Spiky takes his time, cackling all the way, setting up the chair on the

floor.]

MH: The Scrayper is really getting it tonight, here at Bloodfest. He

hasn't really been able to muster any offense here tonight, Spikyjim really

taking it to him.

BW: He's trying to get up. He doesn't look too well, but he is trying.

MH: The Scrayper getting up, Spiky backing off and... [POP!] FLYING CROSS

BODY OFF THE CHAIR ONTO SCRAYPER!!

[HUGE POP!]

MH: Spikyjim with an amazing dive off that chair, rolling The Scrayper into

the ring... and placing the chair over his face. If I know Spikyjim... and

I know him well... this isn't going to be good.

BW: It'll be great!

MH: Up onto the apron...

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

...SLINGSHOT LEG DROP RIGHT ACROSS THAT CHAIR!!

BW: And this is done like dinner.

ONE!

TWO!

T--KICKOUT!

[GASP!]

MH: KICKOUT! The Scrayper isn't about to be beaten... not yet.

BW: He doesn't really have much of a choice if Spikyjim rips him apart.

MH: He isn't ripping him apart, just putting him up in the corner, setting

that chair up in front of him. Obviously he has something big planned here.

[Walking across the ring, Spikyjim goes to the opposite corner. The

Scrayper is slumped in the corner, the chair in front of him. Spiky

charges... leaps... AND IS SPEARED IN MID AIR! EDGE POP!]

MH: SPEAR!! SPEAR!! SPEAR BY SCRAYPER! HE CAUGHT SPIKYJIM IN MID AIR!

[The crowd is still cheering loudly as The Scrayper rolls backwards off of

Spiky and stumbles to his feet. He sees the still set up chair and walks to

it, waiting for Spiky to get up.]

BW: What in the hell is The Scrayper doing. Hit him with the chair

already!

MH: Spikyjim getting up... AND SCRAYPER HITS AN _UGLY_ MOONSAULT OFF THE

CHAIR ONTO HIM!

[TERRY FUNK UGLY MOONSAULT POP!]

BW: That insane little creep.

MH: The Scrayper has made a career out of jumping off things, low or high

and he leveled Spikyjim with that moonsault..THE PIN!

ONE!

TWO!

[KICKOUT AND POP!]

MH: Spikyjim kicks out! The Scrayper picking him up...

"THUUUD!"

..SNAP SUPLEX!

BW: And he isn't going for a pin, going right to the corner. Like you

said, he likes jumping off of stuff and is about to do it again.

MH: The Scrayper making his way to the top... LEAPS....

"THUUUUUUUUUUD!"

...GUILLOTINE LEG DROP CONNECTS! RIGHT ON TARGET, SCRAYPER WITH THE PIN!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE--KICKOUT

[OH SO CLOSE POP! The Scrayper rolls off again, using the ropes to pull

himself up. Grabbing Spiky he drags him to his feet and whips him at the

ropes, nearly decapitating him with a KILLER leg lariat! Spikyjim somehow

gets up... and gets taken right back down with a scything leg lariat once

more!]

MH: Spikyjim is trying to get back up, The Scrayper finally getting some

good offense in and taking it to him good. Up against the ropes is Spiky,

trying to recover and here comes The Scrayper...

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

...YAKUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~!

[HUUUUGE POP as The Scrayper comes rushing in, connecting with a Yakuza kick

square in the face of Spikyjim... knocking him not only in the face but

straight head over heals over the ropes! He bounces off the apron, landing

in a bloody mess below]

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

BW: Holy shit is right! Did you see that kick!? I think Spikyjim is dead!

MH: He is busted open, blood coming from his mouth and nose but I have a

feeling this isn't over. The Scrayper is in the ring... Spikyjim on the

floor, you do the math.

BW: Eight?

[.....]

MH: Spikyjim getting up, The Scrayper... SCRAYPER!

[Running, he leaps off the top rope and tumbles, spinning through the air...

...and onto Spikyjim, both men sent flying in different directions from the

impact. The crowd of course is dead silent... wait... not they're not...

THEY'RE FUGGIN' INSANE!]

SCRAY-PER! SCRAY-PER!

MH: This place is going crazy, Bil! The chants are ringing out all over

the place, The Scrayper defying death once again with a twisting bodypress

onto Spikyjim!

BW: Spikyjim should have moves and let The Scrayper be splattered

everywhere. That would have been entertaining.

MH: The people here are firmly behind The Scrayper, hating the anti BSCW

Spikyjim with a passion.

[Getting back up, The Scrayper barrels towards Spikyjim with a wild kick to

the head. Picking him back up he throws him over the railing and into the

crowd. Not wasting a good opportunity he leaps up and off the railing and

right after Spiky, the two tumbling through the mess of steel... and

people.]

MH: They're in the crowd now! This is about to get messy... _very_ messy!

The Scrayper pounding Spikyjim as they go through the crowd...

"CRACK!"

...CHAIRSHOT!

BW: I am liking this. Spikyjim has done a ton of this though... The

Scrayper won't last out here.

"CRACK!"

[Two more chair shots follow to BIG POPS, The Scrayper throwing it down and

grabbing Spiky, sending him flying with a heave! He goes flying through

several rows, buried under chairs and the ilk. The Scrayper looks around,

searching through the fanatic, insane, roaring people all around him until

he finds his target... a garbage can!]

MH: The Scrayper with a garbage can! Spikyjim getting up, dazed,

stunned...

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

[BIG HOLY YOU DESTROYED THAT GARBAGE CAN POP!]

...AND NOW HE HAS A HEADACHE! THAT GARBAGE CAN WAS WRAPPED AROUND HIS HEAD!

BW: And look where they are now! The bleachers right in front of them...

and you know what that means. The Scrayper has something even higher to

jump off of.

MH: And I am sure he'll use every chance he has. Spiky jim stumbling,

dazed, hurt... The Scrayper quickly up onto the bleachers, several rows

up... Spikyjim right below him and...HE LEAPS--INTO A HURRICANRANA ON

SPIKYJIM! A HURRACANRANA FROM THE BLEACHERS DOWN ONTO SPIKYJIM ON THE

FLOOR!

B-S-C-DUB! B-S-C-DUB!

[The Scrayper, adrenaline flowing, shakes off the impact and gets back to

his feet, grabbing a table from under the bleachers... to a TABLE POP...

setting it up in the aisle way between bleachers. Security holds back the

growing throng, barely, Spiky pulled up once again. Another heave...

CRACK!... and Spikyjim is sent head first into the edge of the bleachers,

his forehead splitting open on impact!]

BW: The Scrayper is pulling Spikyjim up onto the bleachers, dragging him up

high... man I don't like this looks of this one.

MH: The Scrayper is looking to finish this one off... but they need to get

back to the ring. He can't win out here and he can't win or he gets hurt or

worse.

BW: OK... and the problem with that is?

MH: The Scrayper and Spikyjim several rows up now, that table right below

them. The Scrayper hoists Spiky over his shoulder and... oh my...

[And he runs towards the edge...]

OH MY GAWD!

[...Spikyjim slips out behind, The Scrayper still running...

...off the edge he goes...

...the crowd GASPS~!...

...The Scrayper landing on his feet, rolling forwards and back to his feet

turning... into a Spikyjim senton!]

MH: OH MY GAWWWWWWWWWWWD~!

B-S-C-DUB! B-S-C-DUB!

MH: WHAT A MATCH BIL! WHAT A MATCH WE ARE WITNESSING HERE!

BW: But this match could be over very soon! Both are down, both are

hurt... no way that dive didn't hurt them _both_.

MH: Spikyjim ran from about ten or twelve feet up, landing on The Scrayper

with that somersault senton and both are down, both are obviously hurt.

[And they start to get up, both getting to their feet at roughly the same

speed. The Scrayper stumbles towards Spikyjim who simply sidesteps, grabs

his head and CRACKS him into the side of the bleachers, getting bitter sweet

revenge as the wood connects with the mask, surely drawing blood we cannot

see.]

MH: Spikyjim ramming Scraypers head into that bleacher... and puts him on

the table but where is he going?! Where is Spikyjim going?

BW: Apparently under the bleachers and...

[BIIIIIIIIIIG POP!]

MH: And he has a roll of duct tape!! Spikyjim has a roll of duct tape, The

Scrayper down on that table and... AND IS BEING TAPED TO IT!

[WE'VE SEEN THIS BEFORE POP!]

MH: The Scrayper has nowhere to go, no chance of escape, no chance to move

and Spiky is head up! He is heading up high on those bleachers.

BW: And we mean _high_.

MH: He is getting way up there, I don't even want to venture a guess as to

how high and... no... NO!... NOOOOOOO!

[Get those camera's ready folks.]

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSHHHHHHH~!"

[And cue...]

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

MH: MOONSAULT FROM THE TOP OF THE BLEACHERS ONTO THE TAPED TO THE TABLE

SCRAYPER! I THINK THAT KILLED BOTH MEN!

BW: I wouldn't doubt it... not at all. They look like shit right now.

[The camera focus in on a bloody Spikyjim and not-moving The Scrayper as the

entire place is on their feet, going ape shit crazy. Wood and bodies lie

everywhere, the ref and a paramedic there checking on both. They don't stop

it though, strained defiance from the two downed men making sure of that.]

MH: Look at this Bil, absolutely amazing. Spikyjim is getting up after

that. He is hurt but he is getting up and dragging The Scrayper back to the

ring somehow.

BW: At least they have an empty aisle to walk down. No way they could do

that through a crowd, no way.

[Security helping them they make their way to the ring... slowly. The crowd

is still abuzz, yelling and screaming as Spikyjim tosses The Scrayper beside

the ring, reaching under the apron himself and pulling out something...

something sharp and pointy... a pen. Yes... a pen. He moves towards the

downed The Scrayper, falling to his knees, the impact from the moonsault

still affecting him.]

MH: He is hurt and it shows. Spikyjim may have taken the least of the

impact but obviously it was enough, more then enough to hurt him, stalling

him here.

BW: Did you see how high he jumped from? Are you really surprised he was

hurt by that? Come on Matt... fool.

MH: Spikyjim has a pen in his hand, The Scrayper down and out and... UGH!!

HE IS STABBING THROUGH THE MASK!! HE IS STABBING THROUGH THE MASK AND INTO

THE FOREHEAD OF SCRAYPER!!

[HARDCORE F'N POP! as blood starts to flow from the mask ever so slightly,

obviously pouring down inside. He screams in agony, Spikyjim ramming the

pen in once more, the mask tearing more, leaving a jagged red line.

Spikyjim throws the bloodied instrument away, into the crowd, before rolling

The Scrayper back into the ring.]

BW: That was goddamn sick. Who in the hell stabs someone with a pen?

MH: Obviously Spikyjim does... and for some strange reason I am not

surprised at all. I am not surprised by his insane go to any lengths

attitude.

BW: If it wins him the match, that is all that matters.

MH: Spikyjim lifting The Scrayper... double chickenwing...

"THUUUUUD!"

...TIGER SUPLEX AND PIN!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE--KICKOUT!

[PHEW!]

MH: The Scrayper kicked out of the Tiger Suplex! He still has fight in him

and...

[...and Matt is interrupted as Spikyjim pulls The Scrayper up and into a 3/4

nelson, yelling out "THE LIVING END!"]

BW: He called for it!

MH: Spikyjim called for it... charges....

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[HUGE ASS FACE POP!]

MH: SCRAYPER COUNTERED! SCRAYPER COUNTERED THE LIVING END!

BW: He just kinda threw him down in the middle of it but it doesn't matter.

He is so hurt he went down with him and no one is really moving.

MH: Spikyjim slowly getting up, the throw more dazing then hurting. The

Scrayper trying to get back into this...

[That he is until Spikyjim hooks him....

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

...and drops him on his head!]

MH: EXPLODER!! EXPLODER BY SPIKYJIM!

BW: And he pulls him right back up! No pin or nothing just...

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[HEAD DROPPING BOO!]

MH: BACK DROP DOOOOOH-RIVAH!

BW: ....

[Getting back to his feet, Spikyjim shakes his head... The Scrayper rolling

away, onto the apron outside the ropes.]

MH: Great strategy by The Scrayper, rolling away and not allowing a pin. I

don't really know if would have been able to kick out of that, not after

those pair of suplexes. He is hurt... and Spikyjim is going right after

him!

BW: This is kind of a precarious spot for anyone to fight.

MH: But they are. Spikyjim up and behind The Scrayper... FULL NELSON--

[GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSP~!]

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH~!

[Lifting, Spiky throws The Scrayper overhead with a dragon suplex... out of

the ring... and _through_ the timekeepers table!~!]

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

[Both men just lie there amidst all the broken wood and bodies. Once again

the referee is forced to come after them, checking on the both of them, the

impact horrendous, The Scrayper folded in half, Spikyjim not doing so well

himself.]

MH: Amazing. This is... this is pure insanity. This is a way neither man

shall ever forget.

BW: If they keep doing crap like that they might never remember anything

again. You SO know someone is breaking a neck tonight.

[The crowd starts BOO'ing. Why... Spikyjim in all his bloody fun-ness is

getting up, crawling back into the ring and towards the corner, The Scrayper

still down below.]

MH: Does this guy never stop?! Doesn't he ever quit with the insanity? He

just put The Scrayper through a table on the outside with a dragon suplex

and now is heading up to the top rope. Now... The Scrayper is on the

outside so this CANNOT be good for your health.

BW: This guy is a fricking moron. Why kill yourself like this? Makes no

fricking sense at all.

MH: Spikyjim heading to the top rope... The Scrayper below... oh God...

[And he leaps upwards... spinning downwards with a 450....

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH~!

...and _misses_ much to the crowd's UNMITIGATED LOVE!]

MH: SCRAYPER MOVED! HE MOVED OUT OF THE WAY AND SPIKYJIM MET NOTHING BUT

THE GROUND!

BW: Wow... we so need to be in Canada where they have free health care...

wait... no... Canada has NEO and NEO sucks... like Canada.

MH: Come on Bil! You may have a point but let's keep focused on what is

happening here... and that is the most shocking display of suicidal

tendencies I have ever seen. These two are more then putting their bodies

on the line, they are putting their LIVES!

BW: Are you kidding? I think they already are dead. Neither are

particularly moving fast. They are just kinda laying there... moaning.

Hmm... sounds like last night.,

MH: .....

BW: What? She was cheap...err... not expensive...err... an escort, not a

hook--... fuck.

MH: .....

[Finally The Scrayper starts to move, Spikyjim not far behind. The Scrayper

uses the apron to bring himself up, Spiky on his knees, clutching at his

stomach, giving The Scrayper all the target he needed...]

"SMACK!"

MH: KICK TO THE HEAD!

"SMACK!"

[And he lights Spikyjim up, each kick getting harder and harder. The blue

haired Spiky sways on his knees, The Scrayper backing off and charging...

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

...with a kick STRAIGHT to the face!]

MH: Spikyjim is DOWN~! Those kicks were just vicious but The Scrayper

isn't done! He isn't done...

BW: And apparently reinvigorated by kicking someone in the teeth... freak.

MH: The Scrayper fighting through the pain he is surely in and... wait a

second.

[The Scrayper, instead of going after Spiky, walks to the otherside of the

ring and grabs a sign from a fan. A sign that reads simply 'Fear the

Empire' He takes it and quickly makes his way back, kicking Spikyjim down

one more time, laying the sign over him. How appropriate.]

MH: Spikyjim always talks about his love for EMWC and how he wants to be

there and now... and now The Scrayper is onto the apron....

[HUUUUUUUUUUGE POP as The Scrayper leaps, springboards off the top rope and

spins downwards, tumbling with a senton splash across both Spikyjim and the

sign!]

FUCK THE EM-PIRE! *clap clap clapclapclap*

MH: We are so dead.

BW: *clap clap clapclapclap*

FUCK THE EM-PIRE! *clap clap clapclapclap*

MH: These fans are... well showing what they apparently think. The

Scrayper is in full control here... and ... AND HAS A TABLE!

[Pulling it from under the ring, he quickly sets it up near a corner post,

rolling Spikyjim back into the ring and following up after him. The table

right below them he puts Spiky on the top rope, facing the audience.]

BW: The Scrayper is following right up after him from the outside and going

up to the top rope. Hrmm.. a table below... Spikyjim on the top rope. Yup,

this is a Kodak moment.

MH: The Scrayper is as insane as Spikyjim is, if not moreso and I have a

feeling he is about to show it, these two men going to lengths I can't

believe to put each other away for good.

BW: For good is right. Someone's dying.

MH: The Scrayper up, hooking the arms of Spikyjim and lifting him up... THIS

IS IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT--

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH~!"

[Damn straight it is it... The Scrayper driving Spikyjim down and through

the table with a Fire Thunder Driver through the table! Oh and the crowd...

HOLY FUCKING MONSTER EAR SHATTERING POP!]

MH: SPIKYJIM IS DEAD!! HE IS DEAD AFTER THAT, BIL! DEAD!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

BW: Yup. All The Scrayper needs to do is slide him on in and pin his dead

ass and this is over.

MH: I am sure he would but the impact took a lot out of him as well. The

impact and this match. These two have went through so much here tonight

and... and The Scrayper putting Spikyjim back into the ring, crawling after

him... we got a pin!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

THREE?

[HUUUUUUUUUUUUGE SHOCKED/HEEL POP!]

BW: Holy shit.

MH: He kicked out! HE KICKED OUT!

[The Scrayper is about as flabbergasted as everyone else, showing it as he

shakes his head, moving towards the ref. The poor guy holds up two fingers,

telling The Scrayper Spiky kicked out... barely... but he did.]

MH: We have two BLOODY men in there, Spikyjim just a bloody, bloody mess,

covered head to toe.

BW: Sick stuff.

MH: The Scrayper back on Spikyjim, putting him in the corner...[THWAP!]

ANOTHER KICK!

BW: And just puts that chair over his face. Here we go again, poor Spiky's

gonna lose some teeth.

MH: The Scrayper slowly heading to the corner...

BW: Man, workrate be damned in this one. They are pulling off every big

move ever...

MH: And nothing is working... but who knows. This might, The Scrayper

heading up top, across the ring, Spikyjim down and...HE'S UP!

[GROINAL OWWIE POP!]

MH: Spikyjim crotched The Scrayper! He stopped him from doing what he was

going to do... The Scrayper down and Spikyjim staggering after him.

BW: Do these guys ever stay down?

[Staggering over, Spikyjim grabs Scraypers head and lifts slightly...

dropping straight down...

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

...with a SICK top rope DDT to a HUGE POP! The Scrayper bounces off, head

first... and gets right back up as if it never affected him, the crowd

ERUPTING!]

MH: SCRAYPER IS UP---

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD~!"

--AND DROPS SPIKYJIM ON HIS HEAD WITH A HEAD AND ARM SUPLEX!

BW: How in the hell did.... He was dropped on his... Son of a no sell--

MH: Kayfabe, Bill, kayfabe.

[Somehow 'no selling' the effects, The Scrayper goes to the corner and gets

just what he was looking for... his stapler! The crowd responds with a

resounding HARDCORE POP~!, their favorite in this about to do what he does

best....]

KA-THUNK!

[... staple people in the forehead!]

MH: RIGHT IN THE HEAD!

KA-THUNK!

BW: And again and... oh my.

MH: Oh my is right! The Scrayper not only has one stapler... he just went

and got _another_~!

KA-THUNK!

[POP!]

KA-THUNK!

[POP!]

KA-THUNK!

[POP!]

KA-THUNK!

[POP!]

MH: AND HE PUTS THEM TO GOOD USE, STAPLING THE HELL OUT OF SPIKYJIM'S HEAD!

[Spikyjim down... and bloody, The Scrayper drops the Staplers in the corner

and is handed something by Spize... something a bit more deadly...

SCISSORS!]

BW: Oh God.

MH: Gah. He has scissors... he has scissors and IS USING THEM ON THE HEAD

OF SPIKYJIM!!

[Drowning out Spiky's screams are those of the crowd, in shock as The

Scrayper draws the blade over his skin, opening it wide, blood pouring...

spurting out from the wound! The Scrayper, his duty done, throws the deadly

scissors out of the ring, leaving Spiky to writhe madly in pain.]

BW: .....

MH: That was about the single sickest thing I have ever seen. Ever.

[Or so they thought... until The Scrayper runs his fingers through the thick

bloody mess that is Spikyjim's face, wiping it over his mask, leaving bloody

streaks. Haunting indeed.]

MH: Ok... it can get worse.

BW: I am going to have nightmares tonight.

[The commentators stunned to silence, the camera focuses in on Spiky... The

Scrayper busy putting a folding chair in the ring. His skin is split, bone

and muscle visible... and lots of blood. Lots. _LOTS_! Spikyjim is a

bloody mess, his blue hair now red, his entire body covered in crimson.]

MH: The Scrayper has taken this match into his hands and with a vengeance.

He has Spikyjim in his grasps... lifts....

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

...BRAINBUSTER RIGHT ON THAT CHAIR!

BW: Please say this is it.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

[It would have been had Spikyjim not somehow... for some reason... kicked

out! The ref is as shocked as anyone but does his job wonderfully,

thrusting two fingers up. The Scrayper is in a silent rage, stomping around

the ring before sliding out and under... searching for something.]

MH: That chair is covered in blood now and The Scrayper is out looking for

something.

BW: I think we ran out of tables. Hell... I don't think we can afford

anymore.

MH: He is coming out and...

[MONSTER EXTREME POP as The Scrayper finds what he was looking for... a pane

of glass!]

MH: Here comes The Scrayper back in the ring, the glass in there and surely

will be put to good use--SPIKYJIM!

[The crowd GASPS IN SHOCK as Spikyjim somehow gets to his feet and hits a

turning The Scrayper with a dropkick that knocks him back into the ropes...

the impact actually forcing him to become tied up in them! The audience is

en feugo as the blue haired freak grabs the chair from earlier and runs to

the ropes... springboarding off and twisting in mid air...

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

...hitting an Arabian Facebuster onto the back of Scraypers obviously

unprotected head. They may hate him but....]

B-S-C-DUB! B-S-C-DUB!

MH: Amazing move by Spikyjim, The Scrayper knocked lose from the impact and

once again both men are down...The Scrayper falling to the outside!

BW: Man, we already know it isn't safe out there. Just a guess but I think

Spiky would be safer in the ring.

MH: Apparently not as he is heading right after his opponent... or not.

[The crowd gives him a ton of heel heat as he grabs a pair of chairs instead

of going after The Scrayper, setting them up together, facing each other.

The Scrayper, down, tries struggling to his feet, Spikyjim helping him by

turning backwards, hooking his arms and lifting him up and over... upside

down in a reverse Gory Special.]

MH: I know what this is...

[So do the fans, already on their feet as they move towards the chairs...]

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

[HO-LY MOTHER IN HELL POP!]

MH: A VERTEBREAKER ONTO THOSE CHAIRS!! IF SCRAYPER DIDN'T HAVE A BROKEN

NECK BEFORE HE DOES NOW!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY

SHIT!

[Spikyjim rolls away, The Scrayper down and not moving a single bit. Not

wasting anytime, Spikyjim rolls him into the ring, slowly following up

after, knowing he has this one wrapped up.]

BW: I should have put money on it. I _knew_ someone was going to die!

MH: Spikyjim needs to only go for a cover...and he does.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

[KICKOUT AND A MOTHER F'N HUGE POP!]

MH: HE KICKED OUT JUST IN TIME!

BW: Bullshit he did! No way that was only a two!

MH: Spikyjim can't believe it either but is staying on him... inverted

headlock and--

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

--DRUNK DRIVER!! DRUNK DRIVER ON SCRAYPER!!

[Hitting the sheer drop inverted Brainbuster, Spikyjim, an annoyed Spikyjim,

goes for the cover.]

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

[IF THIS PLACE HAD A ROOF IT'D BE BLOWN OFF POP!]

MH: NOOOOOOOOOO! SCRAYPER KICKS OUT _AGAIN!_ WHAT IS IT GOING TO TAKE TO

KEEP THIS MAN DOWN!

BW: We have the worst referee in history... hi-st-or-y

MH: He said it was a two and it's a two count whether anyone can believe it

or not. Spikyjim is angered, frustrated and letting the ref know it. He

needs to be careful and concentrate on this match if he wants to win it.

BW: He needs to get a fair ref.

MH: The Scrayper down, Spikyjim lifting him back up and... pumphandle...

hooks... we've seen this before...

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD~!"

CROWD: OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

..THE GRACE AND BEAUTY OF DEVASTATION!

BW: And the name has never been more appropriate.

MH: This has to be it.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

[BIGGEST POP... EVER.]

BW: I am gonna cry.

MH: HE KICKED OUT... _AGAIN_~! NOTHING CAN KEEP HIM DOWN!! NOTHING IS

KEEPING SCRAYPER DOWN AND FRANKLY I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS KEEPING HIM IN THIS!

BW: A shitty referee and crappy counting.

MH: Or maybe a will to win, maybe a never say die attitude that is

unmatched anywhere in wrestling.

[Angered beyond belief, Spikyjim yells out loud, pushing the ref out of the

way as he yells all manner of obscenities. He is quickly after The

Scrayper, throwing him into the corner and to the top rope. A loud

"SPIKEBUSTER" brings a POP from the smarky fans as they know exactly what is

coming up.]

MH: He called for the Spikebuster and frankly, if he hits this, there is no

way The Scrayper can get up. No way in hell.

BW: Damn rights no way in hell. If he kicks out of it, I quit. Serious.

I will walk right out of here.

MH: Well here's to hoping he does kick out.

BW: .....

MH: Spikyjim following him up and pushing him bent over.... leg behind and

setting up... they leap...

[And as they do The Scrayper catches him, lifting him behind...

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD~!~!~!"

...and drives Spikyjim headfirst into the mat with a modified Air Raid

Crush.]

MH/BW: Gah.

[SICK HEAD DROPPING POP!]

B-S-C-DUB! B-S-C-DUB!

[Both men simply lie there. Dead... maybe. Neither moves, both breathing

heavily. The ref goes from one to the other, trying to get some semblance

of life out of there, seeing if they can possibly continue. I needn't say

how they answer. You know what they say.]

MH: This has to be the most amazing thing I have ever seen. I don't know

what it'll take to keep them down. Both are hurt, Spikyjim as bloody as I

have ever seen in a wrestling ring, Scrayper's mask torn, blood coming from

that head wound from earlier. They have jumped off anything and

everything... been put through tables... been dropped on their heads...

BW: They're gonna be pissed when they don't get paid.

MH: The two are starting to stir, this crowd letting them know they

appreciate everything... The Scrayper near that pane of glass... I am

shocked it hasn't been used.

BW: No one has had a chance to use it.

MH: He looks like he is about to, grabbing it...

[The crowd POPS as Spiky gets to his feet and charges The Scrayper...]

MH: SPIKYJIM SPEAR--

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH~!"

[HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGE EARTH SHATTERING HARDCORE

POP!]

--SCRAYPER WITH A HOMERUN SWING SMASHING THAT GLASS PANE OVER THE HEAD OF

SPIKYJIM!!

BW: Is it possible to get bloodier?!

MH: Spikyjim is down, glass everywhere, his head torn all to hell.... The

Scrayper quickly moving to the top rope...

[That he does... perching up top as camera flash everywhere.]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD~!"

[HUMONGOUS FACE POP!]

MH: DREAM SCREAM!! DREAM SCREAM!! DREAM SCREAM!! DREAM SCREAM!!

MW: He hit it?!

[And he simply lays on top of Spikyjim]

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING DING DING

[MIND BLOWING CHEERS!]

MH: HE DID IT!! THIS THING IS OVER!! _FINALLY_ IT IS OVER!

MW: What a ... ripoff.

RA: YOUR WINNER AND NEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW BSCW CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION....

THE SCRAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYPEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!

[_HUFE_ FUCKING FACE POP! as The Scrayper staggrers to his feet,

and is handed the BSCW CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! He looks

down at the belt...]

[BIGGER FACE POP!]

[... and lifts it up for all to see!]

MH: What a moment!

BW: What bullshit!

[The Scrayper looks over at Spize, who nods approvingly.

The Scrayper looks down at the fallen Spikyjim, and the Scrayper

then nods as well. He rolls out of the ring, walking with his

newly won gold hung over his shoulder to a GIGANTIC ovation.]

MH: Well, fans...

BW: Uhh...

MH: What?!

BW: Spikyjim... is up.

MH: Sweet merciful fuck! GET THAT REF OUTTA THERE!

[The ref, very stupidly I might add, walks over to a rising

Spikyjim to make sure he's ok.]

MH: He seems rather calm, actually.

BW: Odd... GOOD LORD!

[MASSIVE HEEL POP!]

[The fake calmness is shattered as soon as SPiky stands, as he

boots the ref in the gut, hooks him up and runs towards the corner...]

"_THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD~!!"

MH: THE LIVING END!!

BW: Well, scratch one ref.

[Spiky sits in the middle of the ring, clawing at his face. He goes

from laughing... to crying... to screaming, and back again. Security

rushes the ring... then thinks better of it, waiting for the truly

horrifying Hardcore Shining Light to exit the ring before attending

to the ref. Fade.]

[Backstage we go.]

[We're in "Deadly" Derek Irvin's locker room, and the crowd boos as we

see the challenger for the BSCW world heavyweight championship

preparing for the biggest match of his career. Irvin is busy lacing

his boots, as he looks up.]

DI: Six months, Whiskey. Six months we've been fighting. And now,

after tonight, after these six months...

Everything will be over.

[Irvin looks down and continues to lace his boots. After a bit, he

looks back up.]

DI: People say you've had to endure so much during your time as

champion, Whiskey. People say you've gone through so much. I mean,

you've been assaulted 5-on-1, you've been put through tables, smashed

with chairs, maced by a woman you thought loved you, and shocked

within an inch of your life. Yeah, you've gone through a lot...

But fuck you.

[Irvin shakes his head.]

DI: What about me? What about _ME_? Six months, six godamned godawful

months I've had to go into work every day knowing that Whiskey-

fucking-Jakk is BSCW's world heavyweight champion. How embarrassing,

how _FUCKING EMBARRASSING_ is that, to know I was the man who actually

lost the world title to this piece of trash "champion"? I haven't been

able to eat. I haven't been able to sleep.

Let me tell you something Whiskey, there was a reason your name wasn't

on the list of the top 100 wrestlers in the world...

Conspiracy? No.

Underrated? No.

Three words...

You. Simply. Suck.

[Irvin cackles.]

DI: Tonight the charade is _FINALLY_ over, champ. Tonight, the games

we've played for six months come to an end. Tonight I know I'm going

to finally be able to sleep, because finally this damned nightmare

will finally be over.

Whiskey Jakk's carcass will lie bloody and beaten inside that squared

circle.

And "Deadly" Derek Irvin will be _WORLD CHAMPION_ once again.

God, that's so good to hear...

[Irvin smiles.]

DI: But it's going to be so much better to _FEEL_...

[Irvin rises from his seat and approaches us.]

DI: But don't worry, Whiskey, because you can at least rest assured

for one simple reason... for you see, after these six entire months,

you've really improved... I mean, you've been so wonderful at playing

the role of my _BITCH_

So...

Play the fucking role for me, Jakk... one more time... I'm begging

you...

[Irvin smiles wickedly at us and winks.]

DI: And I've just gotta feeling you will.

See you soon...

[Out.]

[We cut backstage, where the BSCW world heavyweight champion himself,

Whiskey Jakk, sits in his locker room before his 2-out-of-3 falls

match for the world title tonight at Bloodfest. All is quiet in the

champ's locker room. Whiskey is already dressed in his snakeskin pants

and stingray boots, and now just sits with his hands clasped together,

looking down to the ground with his eyes closed.]

[Is he...]

[Praying?]

[Eyes open. Whiskey looks us down with the penetrating look only

Whiskey can give.]

WJ: Irvin...

[It's almost as though Whiskey is looking at us as if we were Derek

Irvin himself. The look is unsettling, to say the least.]

WJ: That's all I've said the last six months. "Irvin." "Irvin."

"Irvin."

[He chuckles to himself.]

WJ: Tonight is finally the end. It's all blown off tonight, 'ere at

Bloodfest. Ya know, ya couldn't write it much better. The BSCW

champion versus his former friend and stablemate, the #1 contender

versus his former friend and bodyguard. We've been at each other's

throats for six whole months, Derek, and to be honest, it feels even

longer than that. Oh, I'll give ya tons'a credit for makin' my life a

livin' hell for six months, but having this baby -

[He taps the title belt at his side.]

WJ: - well, that makes up for a whole lot. However, it still won't be

enough until you're outta the way. I know you'll probably never be

completely gone, Derek. You'll always be around bitchin' and moanin'

and whinin' in some way, shape, or form, but you'll be outta my way.

Finally.

[Whiskey leans back and rolls his head back and forth, cracking his

neck.]

WJ: Someone very close to me once said, "Life is an emotional roller

coaster." How true is that? Life, death, elation, anguish. It's all

there. And if life ain't enough, you've been puttin' me through a

lotta pain, emotionally and physically for six months. But I've always

come back, Derek, and that's when things changed. The day you finally

realized that you would NEVER be able to get the best'a me in the long

run. Hell, you've been singin' the same song for six months, bawh'.

All you say is that I don't deserve to be champ, that I'm a "piece of

trash" or that I'm embarrassin'. But deep down you know, Derek, that

you can't beat me. You WILL NOT beat me. And before it starts, it's

over.

[Whiskey Jakk gets up and tosses the BSCW world title over his left

shoulder.]

WJ: This thing between you and me, it goes back a long time, Derek. It

cuts deep. When I'm out there tonight kickin' your ass, I'm gonna

remember the days when I wrestled three times a night just to save

your ass. I'm gonna remember the night we won the tag team titles

inside the Thunderdome, and you got all pissy about it. I'm gonna

remember the night you told me I was out of Greed. I'm gonna remember

the night Fantasy maced me and drilled me with my own damn belt. I'm

gonna remember the nights you made me "tap" to that armbar thingy you

do. I'm gonna remember all the hell you put me through, bawh', and

tonight it's all gonna come back right in your face.

[Whiskey shakes his head in disbelief, thinking about how big this

match is. His face shows no doubt whatsoever.]

WJ: I'm gettin' goosebumps now, Derek. It's almost time to go out

there, in front of all those people that'll be chantin' my name. There

ain't nothing else like it. And while you'll always be some sell out

whiny bitch, Derek, Whiskey Jakk will ALWAYS be BSCW born, and BSCW

bred.

And now it's time for you to be BSCW-fucking-dead.

[Whiskey gets ready to leave.]

Say a prayer, Derek, say a prayer if you want...

But right now, even the devil wouldn't be able to stop me...

'Nuff said.

[Whiskey Jakk walks off and we go back to ringside.]

MH: The champ looks reads as every, Bil.

BW: Yeah, ready to die.

MH: ...

[We pan to the ring, where Jared Lord, for the final time tonight, is

standing by.]

JL: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is our main event!

[POP!]

JL: It will be a Two Out of Three Falls Match!

[POP!]

JL: And is for the BSCW World Championship!

[BIG POP!]

JL: The first fall, as decided by the champion...

[POP!]

JL: ... will be a Street Fight. The second fall, as decided by the

challenger, will be a Submissions Match. And the third fall, should

there not be two straight decisions in either man's favor, will be...

as decided by the majority of BSCW fans...

[The crowd buzzes...]

JL: A Last Man Standing Match!

[POP!]

[Jared waits for the crowd to die down before starting the

introductions.]

[But before he can...]

[We hear rain fall.]

"BOOM-BOOM-BOOM."

[The heavy as fuck guitar riff of Slayer's "Raining Blood" plays.]

[...]

[The curtains fly open...]

[POP!]

#Trapped in purgatory#

#A lifeless object, alive#

#Awaiting reprisal#

#Death will be their acquisition#

[Odin steps out, wearing black jeans, black steel-toed combat boots

and now, a striped ref's shirt. He looks all business as he walks

down to the ring.]

#Pierced from below, souls of my treacherous past#

#Betrayed by many, now ornaments dripping above#

#Awaiting the hour of reprisal#

#Your time slips away#

[Odin stops halfway down, lifting his arms to a huge pop. He smirks,

and continues.]

#Raining blood#

#From a lacerated sky#

#Bleeding its horror#

#Creating my structure#

#Now I shall reign in blood!#

[Odin teases rolling into the ring, but instead walks around, nodding

at Matt and Bil as he passes. Jared Lord nods, and finally gets the

introductions underway.]

JL: Introducing first, the challenger. From Winston-Salem, North

Carolina... weighing in at two hundred nineteen pounds... representing

Greed... "Deadly" Derek Irvin!

#FEEL THE RYTHTYM WITH YOUR HANDS...#

[BLOW THE MOTHERFUGGIN' ROOF OFF HEEL POP!]

#STEAL THE RYTHYM WHILE YOU CAN#

#SPOONMAN#

[Soundgarden's "Spoonman" hits the PA, and "Deadly" Derek Irvin makes

his way out from behind the curtain and towards the ring. DDI is in

his usual black and red wrestling tights, with the letters "DDI" down

the legs, as well as a red tank top that simply says "Deadly 1" on it.

He wears white tape around his wrists, and a black brace over his left

knee. Irvin hops to the apron and then leapfrogs into the ring as

shots of red pyro go off.]

_CRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!_

_CRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!_

#SPEAK THE RYTHYM ON YOUR OWN...#

#SPEAK THE RYTHYM ALL ALONE#

#SPOONMAN#

[Irvin poses at each turnbuckle with one finger in the air, receiving

boos from the crowd.]

#SPOONMAN#

#COME TOGETHER WITH YOUR HANDS#

#SAVE ME#

#I'M TOGETHER WITH YOUR PLAN#

#SAVE ME#

[Irvin stands in the middle of the ring, motioning for Whiskey Jakk to

bring his ass to the ring.]

JL: And now, the champion.

[The fans come alive, awaiting for the arrival of the BSCW world

champion.]

"WHISKEY!" "WHISKEY!" "WHISKEY!"

[Irvin tries to get the fans to shut up, but they keep on cheering.]

"WHISKEY!" "WHISKEY!" "WHISKEY!"

[Suddenly...]

#WHISKEY IN THE JAR-OH#

[MASSIVE FACE POP!]

["Whiskey in the Jar" by Metallica plays, as the BSCW world champ

makes his way down to the ring to the remake of the Grateful Dead

classic. Whiskey is dressed as usual tonight, with green snakeskin

pants and a black and green tanktop on. He sports his trademark

stingray boots as well. Whiskey adjusts his elbow pads and wrist pads

and then steps over the top rope and into the ring as the crowd goes

nuts.]

JL: From Oakland, California... weighing in at three hundred nineteen

pounds. hhe is the undisputed BSCW World Champion... Whiskey Jakk!

[HUGE FACE POP!]

[Whiskey circles around the ring, testing the ropes and stretching

out. He then looks to the outside of the ring to Odin Trollslayer, and

nods at him. He then looks back at Irvin, as the two men step to the

middle of the ring and stare each other down.]

#FLASH# #FLASH# #FLASH# #FLASH#

MH: Look at this staredown! What is going through each man's head

right now?

BW: Through Whiskey's? Whistling wind, I bet.

MH: HERE WE GO!

"DING! DING!"

[Whiskey lunges at DDI...]

BW: Irvin ducks!

"SMACK!"

MH: And comes back with a jab to the face of the champ!

[Jakk shakes the cobwebs, and goes for a jab of his own...]

BW: Ducked again!

"SMACK!"

MH: Irvin lands another one!

BW: Float like a butterfly, sting like a mack truck! Woo!

[DDI continues using his superior speed to his advantage, ducking and

weaving, all the while landing scintillating shots in on the Hardcore

Bastard.]

"SMACK!"

[Jakk is groggy as Irvin winds up for a big uppercut...]

"SMAAAAACK!"

[... that sends Whiskey stumbling backwards into the ropes!]

BW: Nice!

MH: The challenger dominating the champion here in the early going...

[DDI whips Jakk to the ropes...]

[REVERSAL POP!]

BW: Irvin off the ropes!

[Whiskey ducks down, looking to catch DDI with a Back Body Drop...]

MH: LEAPFROG!

[Irvin continues to the ropes, rebounding off them...]

BW: Jakk goes to grab the Deadly One...

[But DDI hits a baseball slide, slipping under Jakk, between his legs!]

MH: What agility!

[Irvin kips up, grinning...]

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

[FACE POP!]

MH: LARIAT!

BW: ACK!

MH: Irvin walked _right_ into that!

BW: Christ, Whiskey nearly took Derek's head off with that!

[Irvin lies on the canvas, motionless. The tips of his toes

touch the canvas, as he lies fully on his shoulder, being turned

inside out by the Whiskey's stiff Lariat. Jakk grabs Irvin's legs and...]

"THUD!"

MH: He catapults Irvin chest-first into the corner!

[Whiskey catches Irvin as he stumbles backwards out of the corner...]

"WHAAAAM!"

MH: 3/4 FACELOCK RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP!

BW: Christ!

[Whiskey picks Irvin up by the head, looking to inflict more damage...]

["ROWDY" RODDY PIPER/AMISH ROADKILL POP!]

MH: EYE POKE!

[And...]

[TESTICULAR AGONY POP!]

BW: GAH!

MH: KICK TO THE GROIN! What a damn kick!

BW: I'll bet he kicked his balls right up his throat with that!

MH: ...

[With the champ bent over in pain, a pain that all men can

identify with, Irvin sets him up with a Front Facelock...]

"THUUD!"

MH: SWINGING NECKBREAKER!

BW: And he's not finished with his fat ass yet!

[Irvin picks Jakk up and gets the big man in position...]

"THUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: SINGLE ARM DDT!

BW: And the bitch beating continues!

[DDI drags Whiskey over to the corner. He climbs up onto

the second rope, and sits on the top turnbuckle as he gets

Jakk in position, and leaps...

...]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[POP!]

MH: TORNADO SINGLE ARM DDT! Irvin's definitely zeroing in

on that arm, which can only mean one thing...

BW: Gobsmacker.

Got it?

Good.

MH: ...

BW: What?

MH: I've always hated you.

_Always._

BW: Erm...

[Not even giving Whiskey time to breathe, much less mount

a defense, Irvin is on top of the champ again...]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: CROSS ARM BREAKER!

BW: THis is the genius of DDI. He's already starting to work

on the arm now. Once he beats the ever loving crap outta Jakk

for this fall, the champ'll tap like a whiny whore in the next fall.

Pure genius.

MH: Whatever. Irvin is looking confident as hell, as he's taking control...

[TESTICULAR MISFORTUNE POP!]

BW: DAMMIT! There goes all the future little Irvins!

MH: Yeah... what a shame.

[DDI is in pain as Jakk grabs him by the front of his tights...]

[POP!]

MH: Jakk just tosses Irvin out of the ring like a rag doll!

[Whiskey, shaking the cobwebs loose and rolls outside...]

[HARDCORE POP!]

[... and immediately searches under the ring for plunder!]

[SANDMAN POP!]

MH: KENDO STICK!

BW: RUN!!

[A slightly groggy Irvin gets to his feet as Whiskey rears back...]

"CRACK!"

[MASSIVE POP! as Jakk plays up to the crowd. Irvin is busted

wide open from the shots, and is standing, but just _barely_.]

BW: What a psycho!

MH: Irvin knew what he was signing up for when he agreed to a

Street Fight with the Hardcore Bastard!

[Jakk sets Irvin upp, propping the kendo stick under his chin as he yells out...]

WJ: WHOLE DRUNKEN SHOW!

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!"

"WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!"

MH: WHITE RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP!

BW: RIGHT INTO THE STEEL BARRICADE!

MH: Whiskey was definitely doing that as a tribute to Hannibal Carver...

you know he's ready for the NEO/BSCW Show.

BW: Yeah swell... another drunk.

[The crowd starts to buzz excitedly as Whiskey goes under the ring again,

looking for more hardcore toys. They POP!, but in a confused manner,

as Whiskey drags out...]

BW: A cooler?

MH: Well, that's a little bit different.

BW: A fucking cooler?!

[A sentiment shared with many of the fans, as their curiosity is _very_

much piqued. Jakk opens up the cooler...

...

... and it is indeed filled with ice. Large, cinderblock chunks of

ice at that. Jakk grabs Irvin by the head...]

BW: This is surreal...

[Jakk has DDI by the back of the head and...]

"WHAP!"

[... slams DDI's face into the ice blocks, sending smaller

chunks of ice flying all over! We zoom in on the cooler, and

see nearly all of the ice has been stained red by the free flow

of blood pouring from Irvin's forehead.]

[MASSIVE ASS BEATING POP!]

BW: GAH!

[Jakk releases Derek, who slumps to the floor in a dead heap.

Needless to say, the crowd is going _nuts_.]

"WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!"

MH: Now Whiskey's spilling the contents of the cooler, which are more

like cinderblocks made of ice than anything else, on the floor...

BW: What the hell does this lunatic have in mind now?!

[Jakk picks up DDI, who's entire face and head have been stained red

with his own blood by now, and lifts him up in position for a Piledriver

over the large blocks of ice.]

BW: A PILEDRIVER?!

MH: This could put DDI away right here!

[Yes, a Piledriver could.

If that's what the Hardcore Bastard had in mind.

...

But it isn't.]

SICK "THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[A moment of shocked silence, as instead of a Piledriver, Whiskey

simply throws Irvin down, head-first, as hard as he can on the pile

of ice blocks!]

MH: !!

BW: ~!

[Of course, the silence is soon broken up by...]

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

BW: Irvin must be dead!

MH: His neck could very well be broken after that! That was just _brutal_!

[And the crowd is _loving_ it. Jakk picks up Irvin, who's as lively as a

corpse after that vicious bump, and rolls him back into the ring.]

MH: The champ is back in...

[UNFRIENDLY SKIES POP!]

BW: Oh. God. No.

MH: And is pointing to the top rope! Things just went from bad to worse

for the Deadly One!

[Whiskey drags DDI to the corner, leaving him laying chest first against

the turnbuckles. Jakk then climbs to the top, as the crowd gets to their feet.]

MH: Our monstrous champion can fly like a cruiserweight... but what does

he have planned here?

BW: Something I'll hate, I'm sure. [Grumble.]

[Jakk steadies himself on the top rope, and then grabs DDI by the head.

Showcasing _amazing_ strength, he pulls Irvin up to the second rope,

then gets him in a standing Headscissors.]

[BIG MOVE ON IT'S WAY POP!]

MH: SUPERBOMB!

BW: Dammit! It wasn't supposed to go this way!

[Jakk lifts DDI up, holding him up there, letting him think about it...]

BW: Christ.

MH: Now that's _power_.

[Jakk bounces on the top rope and then...

...]

[HOLY SHIT REVERSAL POP!]

BW: AAGGHHH!!

MH: HURRICANRANA!!

[Irvin reverses it just as Jakk springs off the top, and the two men

come hurtling back down to reality...

down...

and down...

...]

MEGA-"_WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM~!_"

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

MH: ...

BW: ...

[Both men bounce off the mat upon impact, like a pair of basketballs.]

BW: That, quite simply, was fucking insane.

MH: You'll get no argument from me!

[Both men lie motionless on the canvas. The crowd, never having left

their feet, urges them on, waiting for the first sign of life to appear.]

MH: All I want to know is... how did Irvin come up with the energy to

reverse that? Jakk pummeled him to a near-death state outside the ring.

BW: It's his last chance to show the world what a paper champion

Whiskey Jakk is. For that, I think Derek'd wak through the gates of hell.

[And finally, movement can be seen in the ring...

...

HEEL POP!]

MH: Irvin rolls over for the cover!

BW: NEW CHAMPION!

ONE!!

TWO!!

[NEAR-ORGASMIC FACE POP!]

MH: HE KICKED OUT!!

BW: HOW?!

[The crowd is going _nuts_ and Irvin...]

[HEEL POP!]

MH: He's calling for help!

BW: Yeah! Greed's coming to save the day!

[Seeing this, Odin Trollslayer walks to the foot of the aisle.

He lifts his arms up as if to say, "I'm here, let's get it on!".

The crowd is buzzing, anticipating another Trollslayer beatdown of Greed...

...

... but they'll wait a long time, as the curtain at the top of the ramp opens,

and although we can't see who's peering out, one thing is certain.]

MH: Odin scared them off!

[The curtain closes again, and DDI looks ready to pop a blood vessel in his head.]

BW: This is like a waking nightmare!

MH: [Laughs.]

BW: Shut up.

MH: By the way... "NEW CHAMPION!"? It's a Two out of Three Falls, jackass.

BW: I loathe you.

[While DDI is having a temper tantrum, screaming at Odin at ringside,

Jakk is up. He removes the padding on the top turnbuckle, and yells

at Irvin to bring it on. Derek spins around, seethes, and charges...]

BW: NO! IT'S A SET-UP!!

MH: TOO LATE!

[Indeed, as Jakkl catches DDI in a Powerslam position...]

"WHAAAAAP!"

[POP!]

MH: SNAKE EYES!

BW: BUT HE'S NOT LETTING GO OF DDI!

"WHAAAAAP!"

MH: A SECOND SNAKE EYES!

"WHAAAAAP!"

BW: ANOTHER ONE! HE'S LOST IT!!

"WHAAAAAP!"

[Jakk then lifts Irvin up in a Gorilla Press, finally dropping him

down for a final time...]

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaP!"

"THUUUUUUUUUUD!"

"WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!"

MH: UNBELIEVABLE!

BW: He should be locked up!

MH: Hey, it's a street fight... anything goes!

BW: Bah!

[Whiskey quickly rolls to the outside, going under the ring...]

[OH MY GOD WHAT A FUCKING WEAPON POP!]

BW: NO!!

MH: JESUS!

[Jakk rolls into the ring, and holds it up.

A steel chair, that has obviously been dipped in glue...

...

... and covered with razor-sharp shards of glass!]

BW: This is criminal!

MH: And unfortunately for him, DDI is getting back to his feet,

totally unaware of the evil weapon Whiskey Jakk holds in his hands!

[Irvin turns around and...]

"__THWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK~!!__"

"BSC-DUB!" "BSC-DUB!" "BSC-DUB!" "BSC-DUB!"

BW: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH~!

MH: JESUS CHRIST!

[Irvin falls to the mat like dead weight, the impact of the

chair shot splattering blood onto his tank top, as his entire

head is _completely_ red at this point. Jakk holds the chair up high,

blood dripping off the shards of glass and hitting the canvas like red rain.]

BW: Cover him already!

MH: Whiskey doesn't want to end the fall... he wants to end DDI's life!

[BIG MAN OUTTA CONTROL POP!]

BW: NO!

MH: YES!!

[The crowd is on their feet, cheering their throats hoarse as Jakk

climbs to the top rope, with the glass covered-char in his hand.]

MH: He's up top, and places the chair over his abdomen!

BW: CALL 911!

[Jakk lets out a war cry and leaps...

...

...]

MONSTROUS "WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

BW: Amen to that! HOLY SHIT!

MH: BIG MAN MOONSAULT! WITH THE CHAIR!

[Jakk rolls to the side, holding his ribs in pain. A zoom in on

DDI shows his tank top shredded open, and a new wound, as blood is

pouring out of a gash in his stomach.]

BW: This is turning into a damn slasher movie!

[Finally, with great pain showing on his face, Whiskey drops an

arm over Irvin's chest...]

ONE!!

TWO!!

THREE!!

"DING! DING! DING!"

[FACE POP OF THE NIGHT!]

JL: Your winner of the first fall... Whiskey Jakk!

[The crowd _explodes_ with cheers as the ref raises Whiskey's

hand in victory. As soon as he lets go of Jakk's hand, it falls

to the canvas, Whiskey still hurt from that very riskey Moonsault.

Irvin is, obviously, likewise hurt.]

BW: It's like a warzone!

MH: Both men struggling to get to their feet now... knowing full

well this fall can make or break them.

BW: That's right. If Whiskey can take the advantage and make DDI

tap after doing all that sick, disgusting damage to him, he'll walk

away with the gold. However, and this what will _actually_ happen...

if Irvin makes Jakk tap out to any of his incredible submissions...

he's still in the game.

[Finally, Whiskey jakk gets back to his feet. He grabs DDI by the head...]

[POP!]

MH: Small Package! But there's no pins in this fall!

BW: And DDI knows it!

[Indeed, as Irvin releases the legs, turning it into a Front Facelock.]

[MAT WRESTLING POP!]

[He then floats it to an Arm Bar...]

[KEN SHAMROCK/KURT ANGLE POP!]

MH: ANKLE LOCK!

BW: Once again, DDI displaying his _unreal_ talent!

MH: Absolutely! When it comes to the sweet science of pure wrestling,

Irvin may possibly have no peer in this industry.

BW: "May"? Try _has_ no peer in this business! When it comes to

actual _talent_... not hitting people with furniture, DDI has Jakk

outclassed and outmatched at every turn!

[The audience applauds out fo respect for the technical prowess of

Derek Irvin, as he really rears back with the Ankle Lock,

screaming "TAP, BITCH!".]

MH: Irvin is a huge talent, no doubt.. but it'll take a

lot more than that to make the champ tap out.

BW: Don't be so sure, mark.

MH: ...

[Jakk growls with pain, reaching for the ropes...

reaching with all he's got.]

BW: No way in hell.

MH: Don't be so sure... mark.

BW: Get your own lines!

[Irvin nods, grinning evilly.... one hundred percent sure

that he's mere seconds away from evening the falls at one a piece.]

BW: Just ring the fuckin' bell already!

MH: He's not out of it yet!

[Jakk, on his last legs, pardon the pun, reaches, looking

as if he'd rip his arm out of it's socket if it only meant

getting to the ropes. He tries, with outstretched fingers...

...

He...

reaches.

He...

can't.]

BW: [Cackles.]

MH: Just... just shut the hell up.

BW: Oh, sorry, titsy baby!

MH: Die... die a death of bleeding.

BW: Erm...

[Jakk continues to struggle and...

HUGE FACE POP OF REACHING THE ROPES!]

MH: HE'S A HAIR AWAY FROM GETTING IT!

BW: NO!!

[MASSIVE HEEL POP!]

BW: [Laughs.] Beautiful, just beautiful!

[The crowd boos the hell out of DDI as he drags Whiskey

back to the center of the ring. He goes to re-apply the Ankle Lock...]

[GIGANTIC FACE POP!]

BW: DAMMIT!

MH: Jakk kicks DDI off... Irvin goes crashing into the corner!

[Jakk staggers to his feet, favoring the very leg that was just

put through the proverbial ringer by DDI. DDI, shaking with

anger and hate, charges at the World Champion...]

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!"

[POP!]

MH: BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!

BW: GAH!

[ONE MORE TIME POP!]

MH: He's going for another one!

[Jakk lifts DDI up, gets him in position and...

...

SUBMISSION POP!]

BW: SWERVE!

MH: WHISKEY BEARHUG!

[Now it's DDI's turn to scream, as Jakk crushes life and

hate out of Irvin's ribcage. The crowd is on their feet,

cheering Whiskey on as Derek screams in pain.]

MH: Right in the middle of the ring... nowhere to go!

BW: It's just not fair! He _can't_ lose... not like this!

[Jakk swings DDI back and forth, like a lifeless rag doll.

Irvin gets on arm loose and...]

BW: EYE RAKE! WOO!

"SMACK!"

MH: Irvin with a pair of right jabs to the face of the champ...

[Jakk loosens his grip, and DDI swings around,

slapping on a Sleeper Hold!]

BW: DDI has it locked in solid!

MH: But Jakk is making his way to the ropes!

[Jakk struggles to get to the ropes, dragging DDI behind him when...]

"THUUUUUUD!"

MH: SLEEPING NECKBREAKER!

BW: That'll show the big retard.

[Irvin is up as Jakk gets to his feet. DDI comes off the ropes...]

"SMACK!"

MH: DROPKICK! Right ot the knee!

BW: Jakk is down... and Irvin comes in for the kill!

[Irvin grabs Jakk by the fot... the foot attached to the

leg he slapped the Ankle Lock on. PSYCHOLOGY!

Anyway, he wrenches it to the side and...]

"WHAAM!"

MH: LEG DROP!

BW: On the already injured leg!

[DDI gets back up, grabs the leg again...]

"WHAAM!"

MH: He's trying to cripple the champ!

BW: Of course! He can't get to the ropes if he's

been given the Christopher Reeves special!

MH: You... you were born without a soul, weren't you?

[DDI gets the leg in position again...]

"WHAAM!"

[... and nails a seccession of five Leg Drops!]

BW: Christ!

MH: Jakk is _howling_ in pain now!

[DDI drags Whiskey by the legs, to the corner. He then

rolls to the outside, grabbing Jakk by the legs and...]

[TESTICULAR MISFORTUNE POP!]

MW: POSTED! HE JUST POSTED JAKK!

BW: Bruised balsac is the last of his problems... look!

"WHAP!"

MH: Irvin slams the side of Whiskey's leg into the steel post!

"WHAP!"

BW: AGAIN!

[DDI then wraps the legs around the post and...]

[BRET HART POP!]

MH: RINGPOST FIGURE FOUR!

BW: RING THE DAMN BELL!!

[Jakk writhes in pain on the canvas, as DDI applies the hold

with everything he's got.]

BW: He's _so_ dead!

MH: He's sitting up...

[FACE POP!]

MH: ... and he's grabbing the ropes!

[BIG HEEL POP!]

BW: Awesome!

MH: Awesome?! DDI's not relinquishing the hold! He could snap

Jakk's legs like a pair of twigs... what's so awesome about that?!

BW: Well, I think you pretty much summed it's inherent awesomeness up.

MH: ...

[The ref _finally_ get Irvin to release the hold, as Jakk tries to

crawl away, trying with all his might to get to his feet under his

own power. DDI rolls back into the ring, smirking at his handiwork.]

MH: DDI getting right back to work, setting Whiskey up for a

Mexican Surfboard...

[ADDED SICK SUBMISSION POP!]

BW: And adds in a Dragon Sleeper for added flavor! Awesome!

MH: Jesus... he's bending the champ's spine in _half_!

[The crowd urges Jakk to fight back... to get out of it.

But, to no avail.]

BW: DDI is the submission master, I swear to fuggin' God.

MH: It certainly appears as if Jakk will have no choice but to tap out...

other than be turned into a cripple by Irvin!

BW: Heh, you really hate him, eh?

MH: Yes, I really do. Even more than I hate you.

BW: ...wow.

[DDI screams into Jakk's ear... screaming at him to give up.

Screaming for him to just walk away.

Which causes DDI to have his attention elsewhere.

...

Which allows Jakk to get his legs free.]

[MONSTROUS FACE POP!]

BW: NO!!

MH: DDI CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

[Indeed, as the look on Irvin's face is one of incredulosuness...

one of hate as Jakk slowly gets to his feet, DDI's grasp on the hold

loosening more and mroe until...]

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[POP!]

MH: STUNNAH!!

BW: DIE!!

[Jakk grabs DDI by the hair, quickly grabs him by the throat and...]

MH: CHOKESLAM!

[Whiskey lefts Irvin _high_ in the air and...]

{BIG REVERSAL POP!]

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!"

MH: ARM BAR TAKEDOWN!!

BW: HE'S GOING FOR THE SUBMISSION!

[DDI pulls back with all he's got, trying to rend the arm

completely useless. He relents...]

MH: Thank Go...

[Only to smash the shit out of it with a series of devastating

Head Butts! BIG HEEL POP! for this.]

BW: And he re-applies it! That arm has _got_ to be mush by now!

[Jakk screamins in pain, reaching for the ropes...]

BW: No dice!

MH: He's too far away! He _has_ to submit! He absolutely _has_ to...

or he'll be throwing his entire career away... playing right into Irvin's hands!

BW: I know... DDI is a certifiable genius!

[Jakk looks around, seeing the ropes are too far away.

Does he tap out?

No.

Does he reach the ropes, somehow?

No.

...

But he_does_ start to get up, beating all the odds!]

BW: HOW?! WHY?!!

MH: Jakk, unbelievably... is getting to his feet!

BW: Irvin still has that Arm Bar locked in though!

"SMACK!"

BW: CHRIST! That'll knock DDI's teeth down his fuckin' throat!

MH: The Arm Bar is released, thanks to some hellacious shots

by the champ!

[POP!]

BW: NO!!

MH: And he's going for another Chokeslam attempt!

[Jakk lifts him up and...]

[POP OF MASSIVE LETDOWN!]

BW: His arm went out!

MH: The damage to the arm of the champ must be plenty

extensive if he couldn't pull off a Chokeslam on a man the

size of Irvin!

[DDI uses it to his advantage, working over Jakk and...]

BW: GORY SPECIAL! He's going for it!

[But, much like Jakk...]

MH: Whiskey's too big! He can't get him up!

[But Whiskey _can_ do...]

[FACE POP OF DOOM!]

MH: Jakk counters!

BW: He's got DDI up!

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

"WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!"

MH: CRUCIFIX POWERBOMB!!

BW: But can Jakk follow it up?

[...]

BW: Of course not, don't be retarded!

MH: ...

[Insteadf of going for a submission, however, Jakk simply picks up...]

[HUGERIFFIC HARDCORE POP OF HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE~!]

BW: THAT CHAIR! DAMN HIM!

[... as Jakk picks up the chair he used to win the first fall.

The chair covered in broken glass.]

MH: This is gonna get ugly... er. Uglier.

[Jakk lies in wait... waiting for Irvin to get up.]

BW: Oh no...

[SHOCKED POP!]

MH: IRVIN DUCKED!

[Jakk spins around, looking to take another swing as DDI leaps...

...]

"__SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK~!__"

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

BW: VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN IRVINATOR!

MH: CHRIST! DDI WITH A SPINKICK... SENDING THAT CHAIR RIGHT

INTO WHISKEY'S FACE!!

[Jakk goes down, _hard_. The force and the shock of the attack

having knocked him cold. Exhaustedly, DD grabs the arm...]

[SUBMISSION POP!]

MH: FUJIWARA ARM BAR! COULD THIS BE IT?!

[The ref, seeing Jakk bleeding profusely from the head, as well as

knocked out, makes a judgement call.

He calls for the bell.]

[MASSIVE FUCKING HEEL POP!]

"DING! DING! DING!"

JL: The winner of this fall... "Deadly" Derek Irvin!

[The crowd just boos the _shit_ out of DDI as he stands up, raising

his arms triumphantly. He stands over Whiskey, spitting at the

fallen champion.]

MH: What a fucking scumbag!

BW: Watch your mouth! You just made Jesus cry, choir boy!

MH: ...

BW: [Cackles.]

[DDI, with nothing but incomprehensible hate in his eyes, lifts

Whiskey off the mat. He whips him to the ropes...]

[SHOCKED REVERSAL POP!]

BW: Damn him!

[DDI comes off the ropes...]

"THUUUUUUD!"

[SHOCKED POP!]

MH: ARM TRAP NECKBREAKER!

BW: Once again, Irvin = Excellence.

[Irvin, disgust washed over his face, rolls Whiskey out of

the ring. He stands, ready and instense as ever as Jakk gets

to his feet and tries to re-enter the ring...]

"SMAAAAAACK!"

[HEEL POP!]

MH: BASEBALL SLIDE!

BW: RIGHT IN HIS FAT FUCKING FACE!

[Cackling as Jakk goes down again, Irvin runs to the ropes on

the opposite side of the ring. He rebounds, hits a handspring and...]

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!"

"BSC-DUB!" "BSC-DUB!" "BSC-DUB!" "BSC-DUB!"

MH: SPACE FLYING TIGER DROP!!

BW: WOO!

[After taking a few moments to shake the cobwebs loose, DDI drags

Whiskey to the entrance ramp. He lifts Jakk up by the head...]

MH: Irvin with a Front Facelock...

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

MH: IMPLANT DDT!!

BW: Jakk has gotta be out cold now!

[Irvin drags an unconscious Whiskey Jakk further up the entrance ramp,

finally stopping mere feet before the curtains at the top of the ramp.]

MH: What the hell is Irvin planning here?

BW: This is just a wild guess... but Whiskey's bloody death.

[BIG SUICIDAL POP!]

MH: He can't be thinking it!

BW: Oh, but he is!

[The crowd goes _nuts_ as Derek points up to the scaffolding

surrounding the Vail-Tron.]

MH: Not only will he end Whiskey's career... he could very well

send himself to the retirement home!

BW: Don't you get it yet? He does _not_ care. The only thing

that matters to Irvin anymore is erasing the embarassment to

professional wrestling that is Whiskey Jakk.

MH: You're as deranged as he is!

[Nonetheless, Derek begins to climb.

Up and up.

Higher and higher.

Until...

POP!]

BW: Well, no turning back now, Heath.

MH: Absolutely not! Derek irvin at the apex of that structure..

with no place to go but _straight_ down!

[Derek looks down, staring coldly at his target, Whiskey Jakk.

He breathes out, looking up at the sky.

He looks out at the fans, and nods.

He screams "I HATE YOU ALL!"]

MH: Classy.

[He raises his arms to the sky.

Finally...

He leaps.]

BW: Eek!

[Hurtling down...

and down...

and down]

MH: I can't believe this!

[Falling like a stone...

... crashing down to reality.

Finally.]

"___CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH~!~!~!___"

[He makes deadly impact with the body of Whiskey Jakk...

... as a hush falls over the formerly violently energetic crowd.]

MH: ...

BW: I...

[Upon impact, Derek goes flying off Jakk, holding his ribs,

screaming like a wounded animal.

Upon impact, Whiskey's entire body recoils... as if he was

just shot by a cannon.

The fans get to their feet, as do Matt and Bil... as does every

single man, woman and child in attendance.

Matt and Bil, shock creeping over their faces...

clap.

The clapping is contagious, as within nanoseconds the entire

Suffolk Downs is giving both men a standing ovation.

An ovation which quickly turns into...]

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

[Both men lie still as can be, as the ref starts the count from

the ring.]

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

[Both men lie still, with no hint at motion of any kind.]

"THREE!"

"FOUR!"

[DDI starts moving his hands, motion can be somewhat detected

in his legs.

"FIVE!"

MH: Remember folkds, this final and deciding fall is under

Last Man Standing rules! Whoever is unable to get up before the

ten count loses!

BW: And it looks like Whiskey's about to lose in a big way!

[Indeed, as Derek Irvin begins to sit up...]

"SIX!

"SEVEN!"

MH: DDI's up to one knee!

BW: DEE DEE EYE! DEE DEE EYE! DEE DEE EYE! DEE DEE EYE!

"EIGHT!"

BW: DDI'S UP! HE WINS!

MH: NOT YET! NOT LIKE THIS!

[Jakk begins to stir as Irvin staggers off towards the ring...]

"NINE!"

[Jakk sits up...

and...

...

Gets up before the ten count!]

[MASSIVE MOTHERFUCKIGN FACE POP!!]

BW: DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!

MH: No matter how badly you or Derek Irvin might want it...

he never will!

BW; FUCK YOU!

MH: ...

[Jakk charges... well, more like a fast limp, at Irvin.

Irvin stands ready and...]

BW: KICK TO THE GUT!

[With Jakk bent over, Irvin gets him in a Front Facelock,

and lifts him up...]

MH: GOBSMACKAH!!

[REVERSAL POP OF CREAMY GOODNESS!]

BW: REVERSED! DAMMIT!!

[Jakk floats over, landing behind DDI on his feet.

Irvin spins around...]

[MUTA POP!]

MH: GREEN MIST!

BW: WHAT THE FUCK?!

[With Irvin blinded, Jakk lifts him up for the Whiskey Bearhug...]

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!"

[DESTRUCTION OF PROPERTY POP!]

BW: GAH!!

MH: Jakk just chucked DDI into the guard railing... and it snapped

off it's coupling! Unreal!

[DDI falls to the ground, as Whiskey picks up the section of

guard railing as security rushes in to keep the fans at bay.]

MH: Jakk's lifting the railing high over his head...

"CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!!"

"WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!"

BW: RIGHT ON TOP OF HIS FUCKING HEAD! CHRIST!!

MH: And Whiskey's going back under the ring!

[BORN TO BE WIRED POP!]

BW: Ah, shit.

MH: BARBED WIRE! Whiskey ahs barbed wire!

[The crowd cheers wildly as Whiskey wraps the barbed wire around his boot.

He stands back, waiting for Irvin to get back to his feet.]

BW: DDI gets back up...

MH HERE COMES WHISKEY!!

"__SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK__!"

[RE-OPENED WOUND POP!]

MH: KAWADA KICK! WITH THE ASSIST FROM THE BARBED WIRE!

BW: Irvin is a bleeding mess!

[Indeed, as we zoom in on a fallen DDI, who at this point is covered

head to toe, from hair to boots in blood.]

MH: Man, he looks like Daredevil.

BW: Comic dork. Die.

MH: ...

[Jakk grabs Derek by the head, and drags him to the ring. As he does,

Irvin sneakily grabs the timekeeper's ring bell...]

"CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!!"

[RING MY BELL POP!]

BW: RIGHT OVER THE HEAD!

MH: DDI's coming this way!

BW: Here Derek, you're doing a gre-oof!

[DDI shoves Bil to the side, dragging out a conveniently placed

large bag filled with garbage. Sticking out of it we see a 2x4 and

a stop sign. As Jakk gets back to his feet Irvin grabs the stop sign...]

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!"

MH: Jakk goes down again!

BW: Did you put that crap over there?!

MH: ...

BW: It's a fair question!

[Irvin grabs the 2x4 with one hand, and drags Whiskey to his

feet with the other...]

MH: He's propping the 2x4 under Whiskey's chin...

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!"

BW: THAT'LL SHOW HIM! YEAH!!

MH: DDI with a White Russian Leg Sweep of his own, definite payback

for earlier in this match!

[Irvin then takes out two more items, a glass jug... and then drags

out a cinderblock.]

MH: Uh oh.

BW: Time to get Deadly!

[But Jakk has better recuperative powers than DDI assumes, and grabs

the glass jug as Irvin drags the cinderblock into place!]

MH: Jakk taps him on the shoulder!

[DDI turns around, right into...]

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!"

BW: GOD! Right in the face!

[Jakk lifts his arms to the sky, soaking in the adulation of the

capacity crowd...]

"WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!"

"WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-"

BW: IRVIN!

"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"

[_MASSIVE_ HEEL POP!]

MH: BACKLASH DDT! ON THE DAMN CINDERBLOCK!!

[DDI flips off the booing masses, and rolls Whiskey back into the ring.]

MH: Irvin's going under the ring now...

[DUDLEYS POP!]

BW: TABLES!

[Irvin drags out not one, not two, but _three tables. He slides each

one into the ring, and then slides into the ring himself. He sets up

one in the middle of the ring in between stomping the living hell out of

Whiskey Jakk.]

MH: DDI drags Jakk to the corner...

[And with a great deal of effort, props the gargantuan world champ on

the top turnbuckle.]

BW: Derek's up on top as well now...

[DDI gets Jakk up, standing, on the top rope as well. He gets him in a

Bearhug and...

...

...]

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!"

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

MH: BELLY TO BELLY!

BW: THROUGH THE TABLE! IT'S OVER!!

[Irvin screams at the ref to start the count, which the ref does.]

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

"THREE!"

[The crowd urgently cheers Whiskey on, begging thim to get back up...

just one more time.]

"FOUR!"

BW: All the cheers in the world can't save his fat ass now! He's failed you!

HE'S FAILED YOU ALL!

MH: You're out of line!

"FIVE!"

"SIX!"

[Jakk grabs hold of the bottom rope, using his massive arms to pull

him closer to the corner.]

"SEVEN!"

[Jakk slumps down again, seemingly physically unable to fight anymore.]

"EIGHT!"

[Jakk looks up. He sees his psychotic BSCW fans. Urging him to get

up off his ass and finish DDI off once and for good.

To do it for the memory of Shane Delaney.

To do it for every athlete who's ever, just like Whiskey, bled BSCW.]

"NINE!"

[Jakk looks over at Odin Trollslayer, who grins and nods...]

[_MASSIVE_, _HUGE_ BLOW OFF THE ROOF FACE POP!]

MH: HE'S UP!

BW: DDI's stunned... and so am I!

MH: DDI CHARGES!

[As he does, Jakk ducks, and Irvin leaps up, ending up on the second rope!]

MH: Whiskey spins around... and catches that rat bastard!

BW: Watch it!

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!"

[POP!]

MH: BAMBOOZLED!

BW: NO!!

[Jakk lifts Derek up by the head. He sets him up...]

"SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

[BIG POP!]

MH: JAKKZIGURI!!

BW: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!? DDI HAD THIS LOCKED DOWN!!

"WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!"

MH: You hear that, Bil?

BW: ...

MH: Those are Whiskey's people... and they're telling him to finish

business... NOW!!

BW: SHUT UP!!

[Whiskey nods, and picks up a stable. He rests it against the corner.

He then points down to Irvinm picks him up... and gets the entire venue

to flip off DDI!]

BW: Despicable!

NH: He's earned every last ounce of hate!

[We go to a wide view, and see Matt Heath standing up joining the crowd in

flipping off DDI. Whiskey then points Irvin towards the table propped up

in the corner...]

"_CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH~!!"

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

BW: SHIT!!

MH: JESUS H. CHRIST!! He just launched Irvin _through_ that table. head-first!

He made DDI spear himself through the damn table!

[Jakk spits on DDI, putting the boots to him, and the crowd totally loves him for it.

Irvin is _out_, lying in a puddle of blood and rubble that was once a table. Jakk

grabs the sole remaining table, and sets it up.]

BW: Stop the insanity!

MH: NEVER!!

[Jakk rolls out of the ring, goes under the ring, and pulls out a bag.

He rolls back in, revealing...]

[PYRO POP!]

MH: GASOLINE! A LIGHTER!

BW: GAH!!

MH: He's not done!

[Jakk rolls out again, grabbing a pair of steel chairs from ringside.

He re-enters the ring, setting the chairs on the table. He then pours

the contents of the gasoline can on the table, and then lights it...]

"FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!"

[_BIG_ POP!]

BW: SOMEONE CALL THE FIRE MARSHAL! SOMEONE STOP THIS!!

MH: WHISKEY CAN'T BE STOPPED!

[Jakk picks DDI up by the head, and hangs him stomach-first on the top rope.

Whiskey then climbs to the top and grabs Irvin by the head, putting him in a

Standing Head Scissors.]

BW: Oh no... DDI, you reversed it before... do it again!

MH: ...

[Jakk lifts him up as high as he possibly can, in full position for a

Jakked Up Powerbomb while standing perched on the top turnbuckle, looking

down at the blazing inferno in the ring.

Finally...]

"___CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH~!~!___"

"JAKKED UP!" "JAKKED UP!" "JAKKED UP!" "JAKKED UP!"

BW: NO~!

MH: JAKKED UP POWERBOMB! THROUGH THE TABLE!!

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

[The crowd goes fucking _NUTS_ as the ref starts the count on DDI.

Jakk sits up, looking at his fallen opponent with _hate_.]

"ONE!"

"TWO!

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

"THREE!"

[DDI lies there, as still as a corpse.]

"FOUR!"

"FIVE!"

"SIX!"

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

"SEVEN!"

"EIGHT!"

[Jakk gets to his feet, chanting along with the fans...]

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

"NINE!"

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

[...]

"HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!" "HO-LY SHIT!"

"TEN!"

"DING! DING! DING!"

[BIGGEST FACE POP IN THS HISTORY OF FACE POPS POP!!]

JL: The winner of the final and deciding fall...

and STILL BSCW World Champion...

[Wait for it...]

JL: WHISKEY JAKK!!

"WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!"

BW: BAH!

MH WHSKEY WINS! WHISKEY WINS!!

["Whiskey In The Jay" re-plays to a TREMENDOUS face pop.

Jakk grabs his belt, and celebrates at ringsidee, walking around,

slapping every single fan's hand. He walks to the base of the ramp,

flips off a still knocked out Derek Irvin, and lifts the

BSCW World Championship high for all to see.]

MH: That's all the time we have for tonight, folks! Thank you for

joining us in what has been an amazing event! For Bil Withonel,

I'm Mett Heath... Good Night!

[We go back to Jakk, soaking in the cheers.]

"WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!" "WHIS-KEY!"

[And then...

Fade.]

Blood, Sweat & Chairs Wrestling

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Bloodfest - 8/12/02 - Part II

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