C2W Outcast January 23, 2006 [We see a black screen, and as we see the green C2W logo rush up to the screen, the sounds of a cut from Linkin Park's "Faint" is audible.] #NOW! HEAR ME OUT NOW #YOU'RE GONNA LISTEN TO ME #LIKE IT OR NOT! [The shape behind the letters rotates quickly, giving the impression that the logo is flying, hovering in front of the screen.] #RIGHT NOW! HEAR ME OUT NOW #YOU'RE GONNA LISTEN TO ME #LIKE IT OR NOT! [As the word "Not" is said, the logo fades into the background and stops spinning. Over the logo, in white lettering, we see the words: "Pick His Poison: El Diablo!" #RIGHT NOW! [The music fades, and the logo and title melt away, leaving us with the cheering fans of the C2W. Their cheers die down a little, and now we're ready to begin.] Pennyweather: Hello, everyone, and welcome back to C2W's Flagship webcast, Outcast! Costello: Live and in livin' color from the Mustang Ranch!  Act like you know, biotch! Pennyweather: And we have a spectacular night for you tonight.  In the main event, Brian Fisher takes on Diablo in the second of the Pick His Poison series!  That's gonna be an instant classic! Costello: Dat's all well an' good, but what about my favorite wrestler, Trynyty Dahaka and that hot ass takin' on Devon Slayton in a deathmatch, homey!  That ain't gonna be for the weak of heart.  Pennyweather: On top of that, we have no less than two in ring debuts, not to mention Jason Jousma taking on Ninja Hare with the foreign fanatics BANNED from ringside! And don't forget the WILD Six-Man-Tag-Match!  Costello: But right now, we doin' it throwback style, welcomin' Xtreme Limits to da ring against Da Big Sauce Man! Xtreme Limits vs The Big Sauce Man The Big Sauce Man, coming off a wicked loss to the Metal Maniac, Max Eager, had to win this week to save face. So, as he came out to Prodigy’s “Breathe”, he had a very determined look on his face. The large ringhandler snarled as the fans reached out, trying to touch him. He was tempted to break a wrist or somesuch. The Sauce Man rolled into the ring under the bottom rope and stood up, hands resting on his hips as he glared at the entryway ramp. “Devil’s Dance” began it’s slow, methodical approach, hammering out a steady bassline as the fans cheered “EX-TREME! EX-TREME!” For a man with a stupid name, he sure was becoming popular quickly. The lights dimmed, a spotlight focusing on the entryway ramp. Xtreme stepped out from the back, and slowly brought his hands upwards from his sides, palms facing up, basking in the glow of the fans. He snapped his gaze to the Sauce Man, who was pacing, pointing at Xtreme, jawjacking like a madman. If looks could kill, Xtreme would explode in a shower of blood and meaty bits. The Match: Xtreme began to walk down to the ring, bootsteps falling with the bassline of the song, as he returned a cold, steely gaze to the Sauce Man. He went right up the ring steps, and onto the apron, watching the Sauce Man. He hopped over the top rope, landing with a bounce, as the BSM stepped closer, his big chest and bigger stomach pressing into Xtreme’s toned form. He began to jawjack, and so Xtreme just shrugged. And hauled off and socked the Sauce Man in the jaw, sending him staggering back. The BSM roared, and began to fire back with big fists, the two trading blows. Unfortunately for Xtreme, he was giving up a whopping two inches… and a hundred pounds. So, Xtreme got punched in the face over and over, until the Sauce Man stepped forward, chest-rushing Xtreme into, and OVER the ropes! Xtreme couldn’t land on the apron, he just tumbled to the floor, the force of the Sauce Man’s sumo ram knocking him out of the ring! The Sauce Man climbed onto the apron, Xtreme pushing himself up. The Sauce Man threw his arms out to each side, indexes pointing away from his body as he howled his rage, and leapt off the apron a whopping inch and a half, coming down stomach-first onto Xtreme. Well… hoping to. Xtreme rolled out of the way, the Sauce Man’s rotund gut landing on the floor and bouncing ever so slightly! Xtreme came to his feet, kicking the Sauce Man in the side viciously. He stepped back, and dashed forward, leaping into the air, his boots coming together to kick the Sauce Man in the side of the head. Xtreme was not holding anything back. A fistful of the Sauce Man’s shirt in hand, he lifted the Sauce Man back up, and dragged him to the corner, sending the BSM running chest-first into the solid steel pole. The Sauce Man clung to the corner, panting softly, as Xtreme climbed onto the apron, grabbing onto the top rope. The Sauce Man slowly turned around, and Xtreme dashed forward, leaping off, legs spread. He caught himself around the BSM’s neck, legs wrapping tightly around the big man’s head, and Xtreme flipped backwards, sending the BSM sprawling with a big hurricanrana! The BSM bounced off the concrete, as Xtreme crawled to the apron, throwing the apron up. The ref had started his characteristically slow count, already at one and a half, as Xtreme pulled a steel chair out from under the ring, holding it high in the air, as the BSM pulled himself upwards slowly, with the steel guardrail, sprawling in the corner. Xtreme placed it down between him and BSM, the seat open, and turned, jogging away from the BSM. The fans began to hoot and holler as they saw what Xtreme intended… and Xtreme made the dash, running to the steel chair, leaping onto, and off of it, coming down with a big splash to the Sauce Man’s chest, smashing him into the guardrail! Xtreme lay on the ground, panting, the Sauce Man in a heap in the corner, his big chest rising and falling with every breath. Xtreme groaned as he forced himself upwards, grabbing the Sauce Man and dragging him closer to the ring. He rolled the Sauce Man in, then followed quickly. Xtreme stood, and pushed the Sauce Man into the corner, then walked about half the ring away. He turned, and dashed at the Sauce Man, an arm stretching outward, slamming a clothesline into the Sauce Man’s chest. Xtreme turned, slipping his arm behind the Sauce Man’s neck, hooking him and running forward, then leaping into the air. The Sauce Man crumpled, obligingly, Xtreme driving him headfirst into the ground with a bulldog, to the cheers of the crowd. Xtreme went to the turnbuckle, and hopped up onto the top rope, standing on the second turnbuckle. He beckoned for the Sauce Man to rise, pumping one hand in the air. Indeed, the Sauce Man rose, as people usually will, and when he turned around, Xtreme leapt off the top rope, landing on the Sauce Man’s shoulders, arm wrapped around the Sauce Man’s neck. He kicked his legs out underneath himself, spinning the two of them, and drove the Sauce Man headfirst into the man with a hellacious Tornado DDT! As the ref slid in, Xtreme hooked the leg for the cover. ONE! TWO! … THREE! Winner: Xtreme Limits (pinfall) The bell rang, as Metallica began to blare over the house speakers once more. Xtreme came to his feet with the help of the ref, the ref throwing one of Xtreme’s arms into the air, pointing to the victor. Xtreme threw both his arms skyward, slowly turning about in the ring… and as Ninja Hare began to dash out from the back, Xtreme hopped out of the ring, and hopped the guardrail, disappearing into the crowd, the happy victor. Ninja Hare crouched by the senior of the Foreign Fanatics, his fallen comrade, and glared hatefully in Xtreme’s direction, as the Sauce Man just pounded a fist into the canvas ring mat angrily. _SOON_ Pennyweather: Here we go again with the theatrics from .eyedentity.! Costello: F'real son, dis cat be nuttier dan a Snickas Bar. Pennyweather: I'm getting word that Eric Dane is arriving at the arena! Costello: Dats right foo, Only Star representin'! Pennyweather: [shakes head] Dax is on the scene to get a word with the former C2W champion about the surprise that he's promise Christian Light for tonight. Costello: Hellz yeah B! Webcast Exclusive [Backstage.] [Okay, there isn't a backstage, where we are is more like behind the Mustang Ranch where the wrestlers park their cars and enter the building and whatnot.] [C2W interviewer ordonaire (there is nothing 'extra' about her.) Dax is on the job, waiting like an obedient puppy next to the driver door of a sleek black Lincoln Continental.] [The door opens and before The Only Star can get his foot out Dax is on him with questions.] DAX: Eric! Is Byron Tanis in there? Um, Jason Ramsey? Apollo? [Dane opens the door further, this time with authority, and pushes Dax out of the way with it. He steps out of the car and the fans (RAAAAAH!!!) inside of the venue pop large at their first site of Dane in a couple of months.] ERIC: No one is in the car, idot. [Dax is confused.] DAX: Did you just call me an eye dot? [Dane no-sells Dax's ignorance. He is dressed in an oldschool "CWF: Tables, Ladders, and Bodies" t-shirt and a pair of black slacks. His hair is pulled neatly back and he makes his way around to the trunk, pops it with his electronic keychain, and retrieves a small duffle bag full of gear.] ERIC: Did you have a point, Dax? DAX: ... ERIC: I didn't think so, now if you'll excuse me. [Dax watches on stupified as The Only Star strides into the venue with a very business-like expression on his face.] Webcast Exclusive [We cut backstage to Christian Light sitting in his office—a big room with a table set up and two filing cabinets underneath the table.  The walls are pink in color—this did used to be a whore house—and there's a big mirror on the ceiling.  Light rummages through some paperwork when there is a knock on the door.  Light looks up.]  Light: Come in.  [The door quickly opens and in steps Brian Fisher—black, hooded adidas sweatshirt and blue jeans, white Nike Shox.  He has a smirk on his face.]  Fisher: You wanted to see me?  Light: Yes, Brian.  Please, have a seat.  [Light motions to a folding chair in front of his “desk.”]  Fisher: Nice accommodations.  Light (chuckling): Only the best.  So, Mr. Fisher, do you know why I've called you here?  [Fisher grins.]  Fisher: Look, if it’s about tee-peeing the bathroom, I’m sorry.  [Light blinks for a second, caught off-guard a little.]  Light: That was you?  [Fisher smiles.]  Fisher: Sure was.  If you wanna fine me, go ahead.  But it’s just toilet paper, man.  [Light waves it off.]  Light: Nah, like you said, it's just paper.  The Sherry Bell escort service graffiti on the bathroom stall, a little much, but still nothing worth fining you over.  What I'm talking about from last week is the ending to the main event, and to be honest, I'm a little confused as to what happened.  So please, tell me in your own words what happened.  [Fisher sits back in his chair, visibly nervous.]  Fisher: Main event?  I heard what happened.  But I wasn’t even in the building. Light: So you don't know anything about a second Mr. X outfit floating around?  And you didn't talk to Mr. X at all leading up to that main event?  [Fisher cocks his head.]  Fisher (defensive): No.  No idea what you’re talking about.  Besides, this place is so small that even if I [b]did[/b] talk to this Mr. X, someone would have seen me.  [Fisher breathes deeply…]  Fisher: Right?  […looks at Light for approval.]  [Light thinks a little about Fisher's statement.]  Light: You are right.  We're not exactly in MSG here, you know?  I just wanted to make sure everything was on the level with this whole thing, Brian.  There's a lot of people paying attention to you and Lennox, and I want to make sure no one tampers with these matches.  That's why the fines and suspensions are in effect for you two.  Give you both the best chance possible of putting on a top main event.  Fisher: And I appreciate that.  I mean, c’mon—it’s me, man.  Granite.  How long we known each other?  What have I done for you and you for me?  [Light nods.]  Light: Yeah, you're right, man.  Like I said, just a formality.  Go on, get ready.  You got a tough match this week.  [Fisher nods back, gets up and leaves.]  [As he exits, the webcast camera follows him.  After closing the door to Light’s office, Fisher looks down to his left and sees Mr. X leaning against the wall.  Fisher’s look is blank and Mr. X just nods.  Fisher walks to his right, that smirk of his on his face.] Jason Jousma vs Ninja Hare Ninja Hare was introduced first, and came out to a highly mixed reaction.  Jason Jousma's music then played, but Jousma did not come down the ramp.  As the song played, Hare looked at the referee, who was clearly clueless. An attendant came down to the ring, and waved over the referee.  The referee and the attendant exchanged some quizzical glances, but the ref shrugged.  He began a count.... 1.... 2.... 3.... 4.... 5.... 6.... 7.... 8.... 9.... 10. Winner: Ninja Hare (count-out) Flustered, the referee called for the bell.  The time keeper rang it with a strange, what-the-bloody-hell look on his face, and the referee raised Ninja Hare's hand in victory. _SOON_ Webcast Exclusive [The camera focuses on the World Champion pulling up to the arena in a rented black Lexus. Upon exiting the vehicle, a C2W camera crew approaches him.] Bell: Wow, this must be a big deal. The WWA Champion vs the C2W Champion. I bet you guys are foaming at the bit to get a statement from me? [The camera moves up and down] Bell: I bet you're wanting me to give a statement that is going to flare up some flames between Hunter and me? [Again, the camera moves up and down] Bell: You know that I always have something to say to my opponents right? [Yep, the camera moves up and down, and this brings a smile from Mike Bell] Bell: Well first, I need to say something to someone. [He positions the camera just right] Bell: Hey Dark Wolf, how does it feel to know that you're the number "TWO"... [He holds up two fingers] Bell: Man in White Mountain? That Omar Emerson is the man getting the shot at the belt that you weren't man enough to keep. [Mike Bell smiles] Bell: You see Dark Wolf, I won't sneak up and cheapshot you. I'll come at you face to face to say or do whatever I need to say or do. That crap that you pulled on me in the AWA? [Referencing Dark Wolf's attempt to distract Bell so that Dean Hobkirk could get the win. Fortunately, Bell was able to pull out the victory.] Bell: Had the same result of all your other endeavors... [Pause] Bell: It failed. Because I'm still coming to the Mountain, still the World Champion, and I'm still defending against Omar. [He looks at the C2W camera crew] Bell: How was that? [He then walks away, leaving the C2W camera crew totally confused. Wasn't it supposed to be aimed at Matt Hunter?] [Send back to the Announcers.] Pennyweather: Well, that's one way to debut! Costello: Fa sho holmes. Webcast Exclusive Will: Ok, you open the door and I'll nail them with a steel chair. Deal? [Will Sates stands in front of the door labeled Team Danger.] Fred: I want to hit them with a lead pipe though. [The other half of the Billionaire Brats, Fred Kurner looks at Willwith his puppy dog eyes.] Will: Fine. [Will puts his hand on the door nob.] Will: Ready, set, go. [Will opens thew door and Fred charges in with the camera behind.] Fred: Boobies! [Fred's pipe hits the ground hard with a clang as he sets his eyes on the frilly bra chest of The Whore Next Door, Kelly Evans. ] Kelly: What the fuck! Will: Shit. [Will enters the room and looks around for Team Danger.] Will: So is Stevie or Tyrone home? Kelly: Fuck you. Fred: She's got nice boobs. [Fred points at Kelly's chest as he looks at his tag partner.] Will: Guess we aren't the only ones with money to burn. Kelly: Are you going to leave? Will: Probably not. A free look is a free look. So continue with your undressing. Fred: Oh yes, please do. [Kelly stares at them for a second.] Kelly: I don't think you guys could handle me. Will: Have you had your shots? [The Whore Next Door stares a hole through Sates. Fred steps in front of him.] Fred: Once you go Fred you never go back. Will: [To Himself] Fred? Fred: My Fred-a-conda is going wild. Kelly: Well why don't you guys help me take my things off? [Will starts to wander out of the room.] Will: I rather buy a tested whore. Fred: Do I have to pay? Kelly: If that turns you on... [We cut away.] Pennyweather: I'm getting word once again that our cameras have caught up with Eric Dane somewhere in the back. Costello: Show da footage! Webcast Exclusive [Backstage. Christ, Brian, we need a new venue, seriously.] [Eric Dane is WALKING~!] ERIC: Fucking whorehouses and their fucking corridors. [He comes to a non-descript door marked "Dressing Room" on a piece of notebook paper taped to it. Eric raps with some authority on the door and waits.] Pennyweather: Who's he looking for? Costello: Fo' real homey, dis be boring! [A booming voice with a heavy southern drawl answers from inside.] "Do's open. Come awn in." [Eric pushes the door open and walks in to find the massive frame of John Henry on the floor doing pushups.] [He takes up nearly the entire floor.] [Eric clears his throat and the much larger man stops his pre-match regimen for long enough to look up at the former World Champion.] John: Wha' kin Ah do fer yuh? [Cut back to ringside.] [Our dubious announcers are speachless.] Pennyweather: ... Costello: ... [You can almost hear someone screaming into their earpieces to say something, anyting.] Pennyweather: *ahem* I have no idea what to make of that. Costello: F'real, G. Pennyweather: What could a man like Eric Dane possibly want with John Henry? Costello: A big homey with a Hammer? Pennyweather: God, I hope not. Webcast Exclusive [Fred finishes buttoning his shirt.] Fred: Wow. [Kelly wears only a towel.] Kelly: That was a very impressive ride. [Entering the door comes Tyrone Walker.] Walker: What? [Fred looks at Walker the Kelly then Walker.] Fred: I don't think this is where I parked my car. [Walker starts to pummel Fred who tries to fight back. They go back and forth before Fred gets a good shove and runs out the door.] Kelly: FRED! Call Me! John Henry vs Tobias busch The Match: The bell sounded, and Tobias Busch immediately went on the attack against the bigger man. Busch went to work on Henry's back with some axe-handle blows, which seemed to startled the big Missourian. After that, it was all downhill from there. Busch kicked Henry low, and attempted a suplex, but could not manage to lift the big man up, which shocked the big German. Henry, enraged at the low blow, simply swatted Tobias away with a big right hand, sending him sprawling into the corner. Henry followed that up by swinging Busch into the corner, and chased him in, rocking Busch with a big lariat. _SOON_ The word was catching on, the crowd had started a "SOON" chant. As Busch stumbled out of the corner, Henry easily hefted the German up, and planted him with a huge powerslam, garnering a two. Henry then lifted Busch up, and tried to whip him into the corner again, but Tobias reversed, and sent Henry into the turnbuckles instead. Busch tried to pick Henry up again, but to no avail, as Henry simply smiled at him before smacking him across the jaw with a meaty left hand. Henry then shot Busch into the corner, and surprised everyone in attendance by nailing Busch with the Railroad Spike. Dazed, Tobias stumbled out of the corner, obviously out of it. Henry ran against the ropes, and came off, plastering the German with the Sledgehammer. From there, it was all over but the crying, as Henry covered Busch for the pinfall, winning his debut match with an impressive effort. Winner: John Henry (pinfall) After the Match: John Henry leaves the ring, giant white teath gleaming as he takes in the adoration of the fans. Tobias Busch on the other hand just sort of limps his way to the back, hoping to find something to ease his pain. [...] [Lights.] [...] #In a moment of weakness #They’ve gone for the throat #Prayers answered for the ruling classes #We swallowed them whole [The fast, blitzing riffs of Boy Sets Fire's "Release the Dogs" explodes into the C2W Arenas airwaves and calls forth the entrance to a great, resounding applause of Nevada's adopted sons...] [TEAM DANGER!] [Out first, in a black, low cut, lacey slip dress and black stiletto mary janes, is the Whore Next Door, Kelly Evans. Completing her attire for the evening are the NEWLY won additions to the pile of gold, the C2W Tag Team titles, both draped over her shoulders.] [Extra loud pop from the horny males for Kelly ensues.] [Following her, to another enormous ovation is the NEWLY crowned C2W Tag Team champions... Stephen Greer and Tyrone Walker, the King of Pain and Black Jesus respectively. Both attired similarly in black pants, white Team Danger jerseys *AVAILABLE ON TEAMDANGER.COM!!* and black boots. Greer also sporting a knee brace, while Walker's 'fro is all wild and such.] [The trio of terror assemble and mug it up profusely, garnering a constant flow of love from their adoring and sickly minded freakshow of fans. Making their way to the ring, they slap hands on the way until reaching ringside where Walker takes his obligatory three quick steps before leaping to the ring apron. Greer slowly, casually, makes his way up the steps and he and Walker share some "dap" before reaching down for their counterpart, Kelly, who reaches up and they lift her to the apron and over the top rope. Entering the ring, Greer through the ropes as Walker slingshots himself over, they once again meet Kelly in the middle and mug it up a bit for their public.] [Greer is the first to stop as he calls for the mic and once he receives it, he begins when the crowd noise dies down.] Greer - Hey Sinners, who is THEE team in C2W now? Huh, huh? As we said we would, we dropped in and took what is ours and now we are the champions of this company. The rise for C2W is only just beginning and as we said when we first rushed this place months ago, we are going to lead this place straight to the summit of the WWA! [Pop, C2W chants.] [Team Danger raise their titles high, taking in the cheers. As the chorus ends, Team Danger start to get serious. Greer, noticiably hobbled and the tell-tale knee brace on his left leg, begins again.] Greer - But, play time is over and Tee Dee is out play Ghostbusters with a couple of dead souls that think they can fuck with us... Will Sates and Fred Kurner, the Billionaire Brats. Who the hell dug these two up? No one's seen anything from these guys in years and suddenly here they are, doing Team Danger like a couple of bitches! [Boo!] Greer [claps] - Congratulations guys. You have our attention. No one's ever... EVER... done that to us. Very Team Dangerish, I give you four out of five for effort and a solid five for effect. But, now that means you boys are going to get your check from the bank of reality. You want Team Danger, good for you, now you have us. [Greer passes the mic off to Walker who begins to pace.] Walker - We heard you two yackin' at us, but that's an every day thing for us. Yackin, fools actin' like they're gonna do somethin' and then get slapped back to reality... But you two... [He stops.] Walker - Ooooh, how you two went and fucked up now. On one hand, we respect you guys. You came from Florida, just like us. You came at us like a hurricane and slapped us around like a couple of bitches. We like that, we definitely like that. Shows you got some balls, unlike these other guys who cower in fear of the Team Danger Machine, waiting until we break in and rape 'em for everything they can give us. Heh heh... [Smirk.] Walker - Patience is a virtue for pansy ass faggots and our good buddy, Christian Light. But, then on the other hand... The flip side of the coin, you woke us up and gave Team Danger a reason to give a fuck about you two. And that's where the revival of the two time CWF tag champs, the Billionaire Brats is about to come to an end. You want Team Danger? You got us and our FULL attention. The question is, Will.. Fred.. just how long are you two gonna want to play this game, 'cause Tee Dee is like the Energizer Bunny, we keep goin' and goin' and... Eventually you two will break and you will never be thought of again, except as those two prickly thorns who thought they could out Team Danger... Team Danger. [The music plays and the fans cheer some more as Team Danger exits, stage right.] Max Eager vs “Fabulous” Fabian Fairchild This week, Max Eager, the metal madman, comes out to the Opeth slamfest, “The Grand Conjuration”, the arena shaking with the mighty bassline of the metal melody. The curtains were flung open, as the fans slammed their feet into the crude concrete floor of the C2W arena, pounding on the guardrails, hooting, hollering, and cheering. Eager grinned softly, as he waved his mace in the air, walking out from the back in a fairly typical metal-looking pair of leather pants, tattoos engraved all over rippling musclely frame. He held the spiky wood-and-metal club over his head as he pointed behind him, howling to the fans. Following him was the lovely Rebecca, his sister/manager. The two proceeded down to the ring, Eager sliding under the bottom rope, rolling his mace into the ring. The ref went to grab it and remove it, but was frozen by an icy glare from the metalhead. He placed his bottom foot on the bottom rope and forced it downward, grabbing the middle rope and pulling it upward. Rebecca climbed into the ring, and Max grabbed his mace, climbing to the top rope, and throwing the mace upwards for a photo op. He grinned widely as the cameras flashed. “COME ON, LOOOOOVE ME FOR THE MONEY! COME ON, LISTEN TO THE MONEYTALK!” Pennyweather: It’s a shame such a wonderful band is being used as the theme song for such an unrepentant prick. As the AC/DC blaster plowed through the house speakers, and the house lights tinted vaguely green, the curtains parted once more, this time, for a douchebag the likes of which haven’t been seen unless you work on Wall Street. The lovely Lien proceeded through the curtains first, throwing her hands in the air, as “Fabulous” Fabian proceeded out from the back. He whipped a water bottle into the crowd, grinning widely as he pulled a fat stack of bills from his green-striped trunks, fanning them out in front of his face. He stepped closer to one of the fans, peeling a bill off the stack, and offering it to an outstretched hand. The fan reached… and was backhanded for his efforts. Fairchild proceeded down to the ring, and dove in under the bottom rope, Lien climbing up the ring steps. Costello: Yo, da bitches be about ta get it on! Indeed, the femme fatale managers of each man were pointing fingers and trashtalking, Eager trying to hold Rebecca back with pleading words and his body, Fairchild with a hand on Lien’s shoulder, shouting in her ear. But to no avail. Lien charged, hitting Rebecca low with a body tackle, scooping the legs out from under the lovely American. Lien grabbed a double handful of Rebecca’s hair, bouncing her head off the mat repeatedly, as Rebecca screamed. The ref ran over, trying to get between the two, but Rebecca rolled Lien over with a mighty shove, and began to snatch fingerfuls of hair from the asian’s brow, giving her a forehead wax, bitch-style! The two wrestlers grabbed their respective ladies, Max with a full nelson (Not locked in, of course), dragging her away, Fairchild with an arm-drag. Max turned away, putting Rebecca down, who began to scream at Max. Fairchild, on the other hand, turned, with evil intentions on his mind. He dashed across the ring, Rebecca shrieking at the last second, and hammered a shoulder into Eager’s knee, dropping him to the mat with a thud. The Match: The bell rang, and the two managers climbed out of the ring, cheering their men on. Eager was getting hammered with boots to the face and chest, Fairchild pressing the advantage while he had it. Eager was scooped up, and whipped to the rope. Fairchild went low, scooping Eager up, and dropping him crotch-first on Fairchild’s knee, a vicious Manhattan Drop. Lien shrieked her approval as Rebecca pounded on the apron, trying to get Eager to regain his senses. Eager stumbled away as Fairchild snuck in quickly, trying to get in a power move while Eager was stunned. He slipped his arms under Eager’s, locking him up for a Full Nelson… or trying to, at least. Eager threw his head backward, blasting Fairchild in the face with a headbutt. Fairchild was knocked for a loop, so Eager threw another, and another, until Fairchild stumbled backward, holding his nose. Eager turned around, and dashed across the ring, snapping an arm forward, and around, slashing it viciously, nearly taking Fairchild’s head off with a clothesline. Eager dropped to his knees, as Fairchild was turned inside out, and grabbed Fairchild by the back of the head, pounding his fists into Fairchild’s forehead, over and over and over. He came back up, and threw his arms upwards, eyes wide, the fans screaming their heads off. He began to turn away from Fairchild, grinning with the roar of the crowd, the likes of which he hadn’t seen since either the last time he was at Ozzfest or the last time he was in the ring. _SOON_ Unfortunately, this pose gave Fairchild the time he needed to force himself to his knees, and snap an arm up, directly into Eager’s crotch. Eager’s eyes watered, and his knees snapped together, hands going downwards. Fairchild stood, and took a step forward, locking Eager into an Abdominal stretch, viciously bending the Metal God’s torso into positions it just should not go. He reached out with his free hand, grabbing the top rope, as the ref asked if Eager would give up. Eager shook his head, violently protesting, as Lien climbed onto the apron, grabbing Fairchild’s hand, giving him that extra bit of leverage to really squeeze Eager in the lock. Rebecca climbed onto the apron, shrieking for the ref to look up. And so he did, chastising Rebecca and telling her to get off the apron or he’d eject her from ringside. Her protests were to no avail, and all she accomplished was getting the hold put on worse on her poor brother. Eventually, Rebecca dropped off the apron, and the ref turned… catching Lien on the apron still. He dashed over, and slapped at the grasp the two had, Lien dropping to the floor. The ref began to shout at Fairchild, who just smirked, letting go of Eager, letting him drop to the mat. Fairchild threw his arms out to his sides, screaming “WHO’S THE MAN NOW?!”, and then turned to the ref. He began to shout at the ref, backing the ref into a corner, chastising a lowly peon like the referee from doing something so vulgar as touch Lien. This was all well and good… Especially as it gave Eager time enough to grit his teeth, swallow his pain, and force himself to his knees, crouching, waiting for Fairchild to turn around… and eventually Fairchild did, turning right into a vicious SPEAR out of nowhere. Eager collapsed to the mat as well, holding his side. Fairchild had that abdominal stretch locked in well… The ref began the ten-count. ONE! Neither man stood, Fairchild holding his stomach from the pain of a near three hundred-pounder charging into him full-speed, Eager exhausted from the abdominal stretch. But, Fairchild hadn’t been in a hold, and began to force himself up. He grabbed Eager by the hair, and tossed the metal maniac into the corner… which was, ultimately, a bad move. Eager came blasting out of the corner with a shoulderblock that could put Terry Tate to shame. Fairchild was thrown to the mat like a ragdoll, as Eager came to his feet, howling his defiance to the stars. He grabbed Fairchild by the hair, and yanked him to his feet, delivering another headbutt, this one shaking both men to their core. But Eager had his second wind. He grabbed Fairchild by the arm, and whipped him to the ropes. Upon Fairchild’s return, Eager slammed a boot into Fairchild’s stomach, hooked the head, and spiked the Fabulous one headfirst into the mat, Lien shrieking for her man to get up. Eager threw his arms downwards, fists pointing upwards, as he screamed, putting Manowar lead vocalist Eric Adams to shame. He went to the nearest turnbuckle, and began the ascent to the top, but Lien didn’t want to see a man this bulky come off the top… That would end the match! As Eager perched on the top, Lien grabbed his foot, keeping him occupied for a few moments. Eager managed to shake the shapely Asian off, and leapt off the top rope, stabbing his elbow downwards for a picture-perfect elbow-drop that would surely end the match. If it had hit. Fairchild rolled out of the way, and came to his feet, Eager crashing into the mat like a sack of potatoes. Fairchild forced himself upwards, and got into the crescent stance, waiting for Eager to rise, beckoning for the metal maniac to rise with one hand. His eyes wide, Fairchild knew this was his only possible chance to win, and so as Eager rose, he shuffled forward, lashing out with that foot for the Money Maker… Eager ducked it, spun to be right in front of Fairchild. Fairchild’s eyes widened, as Eager booted him in the stomach, spun, hooking the head, and dropped to his ass, the Valkyrie Bringer absolutely obliterating Fairchild’s state of mind. Eager rolled on top, hooking the leg, as the ref dove in. ONE! TWO! … THREEEEEEE! Winner: Max Eager (pinfall) After the Match: Opeth began to streak through the speakers as Eager launched to his feet, throwing his arms skyward, eyes squeezed shut in pure happiness. Rebecca dove into the ring, giggling and laughing as her managee celebrated his win. The ref grabbed one of Eager’s hands, throwing it skyward. Webcast Exclusive Between matches, those who were watching the webcasts had a side-link pop up on their monitors. Perhaps Firefox, perhaps Opera, Internet Explorer, or AOL. Whichever it was, the link did indeed appear. “CLICK HERE TO LAUNCH BACKSTAGE CAMERAS- CURRENTLY- JOHN HENRY-“ And well, some of the fans like the big galoot. So, they’d likely click the link. The ambient noise was tinny, and badly recorded. Came from using a cheap microphone. The darkness didn’t last long, the camera faded in after a moment. It showed the small, cramped, messy office of one Christian Light, the President/Owner/CEO/Totally Awesome Dude In Charge Of Stuff of the Cairo Championship Wrestling group. Paper was stacked mountainously high, the stacks teetering dangerously. Cans of soda, crumpled and tossed into the trash can (Or at it, depending on the Prez’s shooting skills at the moment), were littering the floor, as well as old, used pens, Subway wrappers, Chinese Takeout cartons… Typical for the office of a guy who was more or less single-handedly running the company. John had absolutely no complaints, though. The felluh was very nice to him, had given him a good money-amount-per-show, and had even given him a match! That made things look quite well, as his savings were going down the tubes in order to keep his fambly in clothes and shoes and food, but hey. Anything for his fambly. John himself appeared at this point, a heavy “Thud” just off-camera. John putting his hammer down. He stepped to the doorway, and looked around, his eyes scanning the office. One hand rested on the doorframe, a big shoulder pressed up against the wall as he looked. “Lessee heah…” John blinked. “Mistuh Laht tol’ me…” John tapped his chin with an index finger. “Dat they be an info sheet on th’ jawb he done want m’ t’ do.” He nodded. “It be in a yelluh folduh unduh th’ coffeemakuh…” John took a big step into the room, stepping over fallen papers and other manila folders, one foot still in the entryway. Straddling this pile, John blinked, and looked to the desk. A pile of papers was about to fall… So, being the John Henry that he was, John reached out with a big hand, pushing the papers onto the desk a little more. This had the unfortunate side effect of making the papers on the other side of the desk start to bulge threateningly towards the floor. John blinked, and reached to the other side with his other hand, and pushed on the other side, keeping Christian’s papers on the desk. Pushing the two together a bit, the stacks DID press against one another, riding up on each other slightly, but at leas they were still in order… John then bent down, grabbing the papers off the floor. He straightened, a mass of papers in his hands, and began to turn the papers until they were in a neat stack once more. Once they were, he plucked the last bit of paper off the floor, where the stack had fallen from Christian’s desk, and placed the pile onto the half-stack left there, that was too low to fall. His job done, John smiled broadly, and turned, about to walk out of the office. He got to the doorway, and blinked. He had come here for something… John shook his head and closed his eyes a bit. “Ah’s a dummy.” John turned, heading for the coffeemaker he could see atop a filing cabinet. He slipped the folder out from under the coffeemaker, and flipped it open. “Lessee heah…” John stepped back to the doorway, the camera focusing on the dossier John had found. The picture in the upper-right hand corner was that of Ryo-Wo, the AWA/C2W Interfederation Champion. The dossier listed all pertinent information, including fighting style, finishers, fueds, and where to find his matches. A yellow Stick-It note was stuck to the corner, obscuring the name a bit… But the viewers could easily tell that O-WO” was part of the real name. The camera zoomed in a wee bit more. “LARGE BOUNTY WILL BE DELIVERED TO WHOMEVER CAN DEFEAT RYO-WO AND TAKE THE INTERFED TITLE FOR C2W.- C.L.” John nodded a bit, and set off. He had a lot to think about, tonight, especially if he was going to do his jobs… Webcast Exclusive [Lennox angrily makes his way down the long hallway until he comes across his destination. A dressing room door stands in his way with Brian Fisher's name posted on it. Lennox thinks for a moment before he stands back and kicks it in. Lennox storms in and yells out.] Lennox: FISHER!!!!!!!!! [Lennox turns and runs face to face with none other than C2W President, Christian Light. Even with Light's height advantage, Lennox does not back up one inch.] Christian: Now, Micheal. I know you're upset about last week but you have to calm down. [Lenoox continues to hold his ground.] Christian: I looked over all of the footage and there is no physical evidence that proves that Fisher went against my orders. There's nothing I can do. Lennox: But, there is something that I can do about it. [Lennox turns around and goes for the door when Christian grabs him by the shoulder.] Christian: Oh no, Mike. There is no way that I am going to have you run around here like a madman. I still run this place. [Lennox looks at the hand on his shoulder with anger and resentment.] Lennox: Are you going to stop me? Is so, you and I can settle up right now with no one around. Christian: I am not going to fight you, Mike. Not tonight. Instead, I'm telling you to leave. Take the night off. [Christian lets go og his shoulder when Lennox turns around and faces him.] Lennox: You might have saved him tonight but don't make the mistake of taking his place. Someone's head will go on the block for this. Mark my words. [Lennox turns away and walks through the damaged doorway.] Lennox/.eyedentity./Walker vs Mr. X/Billionaire Brats "Living Dead" by Phantom Planet starts up and Mr. X leads the Billionaire Brats out to the ring to a plethora of boos. The three Invisible Hand members enter the ring wasting no time and await their opponents. "Neckbone" by Powerman 5000 is up next and the crowd pops hard as "The Black Jesus" Tyrone Walker and "The Boston Blockbuster" CJ Rowell make their way out to the entryway. .eyedentity. is nowhere to be found and Rowell and Walker don't seem to care as they rush the ring. The fight is on and over the loudspeakers comes one word. _SOON_ The Brats and Mr. X take the instant advantage with a two on one situation, the Brats concentrating on Walker and Mr. X putting the boots to Rowell. AC/DC's "Back in Black" erupts through the small speakers in the Mustang Ranch and the crowd absolutely explodes as "The Wolverine" wastes no time in coming to the ring. Pennyweather: It looks like Lennox has found someone to take his aggression out on after all! Costello: Dag, yo! Lennox ain't takin' de night off afterall! The Match: Lennox comes in the proverbial House a'Fire and singlehandedly sways the match in favor of what appears to be his team. He sends both Will Sates and Fred Kurner unceremoniously to the outside and takes his attack straight to Mr. X. Walker and Rowell recover, see things well in hand, and make their way over to the corner opposite of where the Brats have been thrown. Lennox takes it to X hard and fast, unleashing a brutal array of rights and lefts to the Masked Man's face. Stunned Mr. X reaches out for a tag but he's nowhere near his corner and Lennox drops him with a nasty DDT. Not one to dawdle, The Wolverine ascends the ropes quickly and dives off, trying to finish Mr. X off early with a Diving Headbutt. Mr. X moves at the last minute and jumps to his corner tagging in Will Sates. Sates comes in and is quickly cut off by Tyrone Walker who just happened to blind tag himself in while Lennox was on the turnbuckle. Sates and Walker meet center-ring and begin exchangine blows. You can see the hatred between Team Danger and the Billionaire Brats just by watching these two fight. Eventually Sates gets an advantage and backs Walker into the near corner and scorches his chest with a knife-edge chop. Crowd: WHOO~! And another. Crowd: WHOO~! Sates gets cocky and climbs the turnbuckle and starts pounding Walker's head. The crowd counts along of course, but the count only reaches four before Walker manages to unbalance Sates and send him over the ropes and tumbling to the floor. Walker climbs the turnbuckle to a crowd pop and leaps off, leveling Sates and himself with a picture perfect Twisting Senton to the floor. The referee, given the okay to be a bit lenient in this match, signals to both corners for new legal men. Fred Kurner and CJ Rowell meet in the center of the ring with a double clothesline that both no-sell. Rowell begs Kurner on, giving him an open shot, and Kurner hits the ropes and comes back only to be leapfrogged by Rowell who turns just in time to send Kurner flying into his corner with a back body drop. Undeterred Kurner comes back for more of the fight and is met with a stiff back elbow and dropped with a snap suplex. Rowell tags Lennox back, letting Walker recover from his dive earlier, and Lennox quickly takes over on the larger Kurner, working his arm over in anticipation for the Cajun Crossface. Kurner fights back to little avail and Lennox locks it on him pulling his arm one way and his head the other. Sates screams in pain, bringing the other two Invisible Hand members into the ring to break up the hold and lay a couple of shots onto Lennox before Rowell and Walker come in for the save. After a bit of three on three brawling the referee regains a modicum of control but the legal men now appear to be Rowell and Mr. X. Mr. X quickly puts Rowell down with a Dragon Leg Whip. Taking advantage of an old leg injury he wraps him up in a figure four leglock with Rowell's back in the center of the ring. The referee slides into position to ask Rowell if he wants to quit. Predictably Rowell screams no. Noting the referee's vantage point Mr. X reaches back into his corner where Fred Kurner is ready to pull on X's outstretched hand for extra leverage. Walker spots this and comes in to help but the referee quickly intercepts him. Walker argues and behind the ref's back both Billionaire Brats come in and quickly drop elbows on Rowell and roll out of the ring before the ref turns to see the interferance. In an arrogant move Mr. X breaks the hold and stands up, jawwing Rowell. X helps him up and backs him into the corner with a collar-and-elbow before leaning in close and saying something to Rowell that the cameras don't quite pick up. Rowell's face goes red and he violently shoves Mr. X back and charges in spearing him down and dropping about ten right hands to his masked head. Rowell sends him violently into the corner where both Lennox and Walker get in a cheap shot much to the crowds delight. Walker tags in and puts the boots to Mr. X before picking him up and sending him up and over the top rope and to the floor. On the other side of the ring another Mr. X pops out from beneath the ring. He slides in past the Brats who seem to expect this and have distracted the referee just enough so he didn't see the switch. The second Mr. X approaches Walker and spins him around. Pennyweather: THE INVISIBLE HAND ARE AT IT AGAIN! Costello: Maybe it's Fisher again, yo. Pennyweather: We're not even sure it was Fisher last week! Walker sees this and swings a wild haymaker at the second Mr. X. and he visibly whiffs it. However, the masked man goes down flat on the mat. Walker shrugs and drops down to make the cover. Referee Bryan Jones refuses to count, noting the visible physical differences in the masked men. Apparantly he was briefed about this possibility. Walker hops up and immidiately begins arguing with the referee. Shockingly, so does Mr. X. The Billionare Brats look on stunned, as do Lennox and Rowell from the other side of the ring. The second Mr. X grabs the referee and drops him with the Blitzcrieg Attack. Pennyweather: Wait... that's Tobias Busch's finisher! Costello: You mean that whacky German guy is Mr. X? The brings in the Billionaire Brats to the ring. Walker and the second Mr. X are on them in a second and they violently take control. On the other side of the ring the original Mr. X is up and is seeing what's happening. Just as he's about to enter the ring he's hit hard in the back of the head with a chair. _!!!KE-RACK!!!_ The bell rings repeatedly, signalling this a no-contest. After the Match: [Greer lays a few stomps on Mr. X for good measure before rolling him into the ring where Walker and "Mr. X" have things solidly in control. Rowell and Walker accost him immidiately and the microphone picks up his response.] Greer: This doesn't concern you, I suggest you both stay out of it. [Rowell waves it off and makes his way away from the ringside area. Lennox hesitates but drops off the apron and backs away. He doesn't leave, however.] [Inside the ring and Team Danger and "Mr. X" are firmly in control of the Invisible Hand members. Greer retrieves two pairs of handcuffs from his pockets and hands them off to Walker who cuffs both Will Sates and Fred Kurner to the ringropes in their corner before laying in one more punch to each of them for good measure. Walker asks for and recieves a microphone, meanwhile "Mr. X" takes off his mask.] Pennyweather: OH MY GOD IN HEAVEN! NOT HIM! Costello: DAT BE 'SICK' NICK HADES YO! [Hades, Greer, and Walker all three stomp on the downed Mr. X before Walker finally brings the mic to his lips.] Walker: Now, I bet nobody saw that coming, did they? [The crowd is undecided as to what direction they want to go and generall stays quiet.] Walker: Yeah, whatever. Anyway, let me introduce to you the man who orchestrated this whole deal... [Anticipation pop.] Walker: "The Only Star" ERIC DANE! [BOOOOOOOO!!! Nobody likes Dane, seriously.] [Cue: "A Devil in God's Country" by Lamb of God.] Pennyweather: NO NO NO! Costello: YES YES HELLZ YES! [Dane appears on the entrance-way and makes his way quickly down to the ring. He enters to high fives all around, gives Mr. X a good kick just because he can, and takes the microphone from Walker.] Dane: Ladies and Gentlemen... [More boos.] Dane: I give you Team Danger! Back together, and badder than ever! [Even more boos.] Dane: And we're not finished yet, either. But first I want to let this idiot Mr. X in on something. [Dane motions for Greer and Walker to pick him up. The hold him up and Dane slaps the taste out of his mouth one good time.] Dane: I don't give a shit who you are, or why you're here. As of right now you're on notice, Nevada is Team Danger territory. The Invisible Hand is _not_ welcome here, so I suggest you take your leave. [With no hesitation Dane kicks Mr. X square in the gut, grabs him, and lifts him up. He hesitates for a moment before dropping him headfirst with a Brainbuster DDT.] Costello: STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH DRYVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! [Dane and the rest of Team Danger take their leave, Dane eyes Lennox as they leave and the Lennox returns the glare before sliding into the ring himself.] [Lennox looks on at the catastrophe-zone left by Team Danger before rolling Mr. X out of the ring. He does not bother with the Brats.] [Lennox is standing tall in the ring and grabs a mic.] Lennox: Fisher, I know you're hiding back there. Why don't you come out here and face me without the mask. [The fans start to chant: "Lennox is gonna kill you" over and over.] Lennox: Get out here, Fisher. We don't have to want til Undying Hatred. We can do it right now. [The fans cheer loudly until Brian Fisher comes out behind the curtain and the boos are massive. Fisher has a mic.] Fisher: First of all, Mike, check your facts before you start comin' out and makin' accusations and demands. I wasn't around last week when you got bum-rushed by Mr. X. I'm sorry I wasn't, either. I like seein' you flat on your back. Lennox: Cut the bull, Fisher. You got your shot in last week. I dare you to try me face to face. Fisher: Heh. In due time, Lenny, due time. But if you're lookin' for some action now, at this very moment, don't worry--Brian Fisher doesn't disappoint. [Lennox gets attacked from behind by yet another Mr. X. Lennox and Mr. X go toe to toe until a low blow or something drops Lennox to the mat and then gets worked over big time while Fisher laughs in the aisleway.] Fisher: Hey Lennox, meet your opponent next week. [Mr. X stands over Lennox's body before he rips off the mask and reveals himself as..] Pennyweather: OH MY GOD!!! THE LEGEND KILLER HAS RETURNED!!!! Fisher: "The Shooter" Jason LOCKHART!!!!! Webcast Exclusive [Backstage.] [The enigma known as .eyedentity. is seen standing outside of Matt Hunter's dressing room. He takes a cautious glance around and pulls the nameplate reading "Matt Hunter" off of the door.] [He replaces it with one reading "Mr. X"] [This does not bode well for someone.] Deathmatch #2 Trynty Dahaka vs Devon Slayton Match to be added. _SOON_ Webcast Exclusive [His name is Victor Mandrake.] [You know him as Diablo.] [Nothing can stop him.] [Exept maybe a hundred pound sledgehammer to the chest.] [What happens next is just that. Diablo turns a corner somewhere backstage and before he knows what's going on a man nearly his own size comes seemingly from nowhere, swinging a huge Sledgehammer and hitting the former three time World Champion square in the chest.] [The man behind that sledgehammer is John Henry.] Pennyweather: NO! Costello: HELLZ YES NEGRO~! Pennyweather: *blink* I don't think you can say that about John Henry. Costello: So? [Diablo gasps for air, but he isn't down. No, it takes a lot more than one sledgehammer to the chest to put Diablo off of his feet.] [To be more precise, it takes two sledgehammer shots to the chest. What that means is that John Henry hits him again. f you were looking closely you would see a tear welling up in John Henry's eye. The sad look on his face was plain as day, however.] [Diablo slides down the wall, gasping for breath. John stands over him and looks down.] John: Ah's verruh sorry 'bout dat, Debbil man, but m' little brothuhs need new shoes... Ah hope you done heal'd up soonish... [A very familiar voice comes from offscreen.] "Nevermind that apology nonsense." [The camera follows Henry's eyes to the entering Eric Dane. Back inside the arena the fans are booing him heavily, quite the opposite of the reaction that he recieved earlier.] ERIC: Besides, our friend Victor here keeps his brother in a dungeon and tortures him. [This bit of information doesn't cheer Henry up one bit. He drops his head down, ashamed of the service that he has provided.] John: So, kin Ah get th' money now, Eric? ERIC: Most certainly. [The Only Star reaches into the front pocket of his jeans for a wad of cash and peels away quite a few twenty dollar bills from his clip. He hands it over cheerfully.] ERIC: Now, run along back down to Mississippi or wherever you come from, and give your family my best, eh big fella? [John nods and turns away, his part in this grisly business over with. On the floor Diablo can still not catch his breath, and he can barely move. The two blows to his chest have put him in more physical pain than he can quite remember. Dane squats down and comes eye level with the fallen Diablo.] ERIC: Pay attention, Victor. [Diablo's eyes are hate filled.] ERIC: You will no doubt misunderstand this attack, you'll seek your fiery revenge, and if you do it will be the end of you. [He pauses.] ERIC: Tonight is a night for righting wrongs. You know what you did, and you know that I'm right. You see Victor, unlike most of my enemies you're not nearly as stupid as you look, and you'll understand what I'm doing tonight more than the rest. [Diablo reaches a massive hand out toward Dane's neck but there is no strength behind it. Eric swats it away like a fly.] ERIC: Tonight I am reborn, the inequities of the past are washed clean. When you leave Carson City tonight get as far away from here as your fortune will take you. [Pause.] ERIC: If you ever set foot in the Silver State again, I'll turn you into a hole in the desert. [There's that trademarked smirk.] ERIC: A very large hole. [The Only Star stands and leaves, his nemisis on the ground, helpless, and scheduled for a match in less than thirty minutes.] Webcast Exclusive [Backstage one again.] [We're once again in front of Matt Hunter's locker room door, and the nameplate still reads "Mr. X" from .eyedentity's. meddling.] [An upset looking CJ Rowell comes barreling down the hallway with a fire extinguisher in one hand and a look of sheer hatred across his face.] Rowell: Son of a Bitch... [The Boston Blockbuster see's the nameplate reading "Mr. X" and kicks the door in, attacking the first person he see's.] [Rowell takes Hunter out with a shot to the head from the fire extinguisher before he even realises that this is obviously not Mr. X. He looks down, more upset now than ever, and leaves the c2w Champion with one more kick to remember him by.] Mike Bell vs Matt Hunter Webcast Exclusive [The camera shifts backstage to see "The Natural" Mike Bell walking out of his dressing room. He begins to make his way through the backstage area and towards the entrance ramp, you can see that Mike's face is full of concentration as he is about to have his most difficult match in his short C2W history. The camera picks him up almost immediately] Bell: Hunter, you may not want me here. But I don't really care. The fact of the matter is that I'm here now and there isn't anything that you can do about it. [He takes a deep breath] Bell: I'll tell you the same thing that I've told Brian Fisher. I'm here now, and if you can't take the heat, then get out of the kitchen. [He sees the lights beginning to dim, and the humming sound begins, letting him know that the time has come for him to make his way towards the ring.] Bell: As far as you go Fisher, I'm getting sick and tired of your crap. Everytime I turn around, there you are, you're like a damn virus. Well, I'm here to tell you that I'm tired of it... ["The Natural" steps through and the curtain closes behind him] [A light humming sound is heard as the lights dim down and a very chilling breeze totally engulfs the arena.] Costello: Here we go, Matt Hunter vs Mike Bell holmes! Pennyweather: It's no secret, there are people who don't want "The Natural" here. [The cheers are almost deafening.] [Almost immediately fog begins to roll in and the entire entrance ramp is completely engulfed. It is so thick that you can cut through it with a knife] [Not as loud as the humming sound but you can hear what sounds to be thunder off in a distance and lightning is seen through the fog at the roof of the arena] Costello: And Matt Hunter be one of dem! Pennyweather: Don't forget Brian Fisher. He has done more than anyone right now to get the World Champion out of C2W. Costello: Dat's what I don' unda-stan', da idea is ta get ya hands on da championship. Fisher can't do dat if Bell ain't here. Pennyweather: It does make you wonder. [You then hear a voice] voice over: Passion is what drives me now.... [The thunder gets a little louder and just when you least expect it......] [BONG] [BONG] [BONG] [It is the erie ringing of a bell that is being heard.] [BONG] [BONG] [Then you hear the voice again.] voice: For whom the bell tolls. [BOOM] [BOOM] [ZIP] [ZIP] [Loud explosions and pyro begin shooting all through the arena to the point that enough static electricity is generated to make the hair on the back of your neck stand up] [Then "Sirius" by the Alan Parson's Project begins to play and the fans begin to cheer as they can see someone coming through the fog and stops on the entrance ramp. The cheers get even louder when they see it as "The Natural" Mike Bell who is standing at the top of the ramp.] [The roar becomes almost deafening as he begins to make his way towards the ring. You can see that he has a stoic look on his face as he makes his way towards the ring apron.] [He stops just short of the ringsteps when a laser light forms in the middle of the ring and it begins to rotate the words "The Natural" in a counter clockwise direction. He then enters the ring and prepares for his match.] Pennyweather: Does somebody want to tell me where we got the money for an elaborate entrance like that? Costello: Shit, yo, Christian Light be PAID~! [Matt Hunter's music starts up, but nothing happens. Inside the ring referee Bryan Jones is just about to start the second ten-cound of the night when one single word is said over the Public Address system.] Costello: But who da hell is gonna fight him?  Hunter went to the hospital! Referee Bryan Jones and Mike Bell are conversing, perhaps about that same topic as well.  The fans, meanwhile, start chanting "Soon" out of boredom yet again. Pennyweather: I don't know, but there's obviously some kind of... _NOW_ And the contingent of fans that has been chanting "Soon" has now switched the chant to "Now", as the man known as .eyedentity. runs down the rampway, almost too soon for the camera to catch onto him.  Pennyweather: Him? He runs down to ringside...and rolls under the ring? The Match: Mike Bell saunters over to the side of the ring where .eyedentity. rolled under.  He looks completely baffled by this whole situation that is developing in front of him.  Jones, too, doesn't seem to know what to make of it.  He slides under the ring and tries to lift up the ring skirt, looking for .eyedentity.  He looks up at Bell and shrugs, until he sees someone spin Bell around and kick the crap out of his ribs!  The bell rings, and kick after kick from .eyedentity. is poured into Bell's ribcage, and when he protects it with both hands, .eyedentity. throws a kick to Bell's face!  Bell is staggered, but before he can come back with any offense, .eyedentity. rolls out of the ring...and then back under the ring. About seventy-five percent of the fans boo this move, standing firmly behind their World Champion.  The other 25%, however, most of which are wearing .eyedentity. T-shirts, are chanting "Soon, soon, soon, soon!" at the slightly confused Mike Bell.  Bell walks to the side of the ring, once again, where .eyedentity. slid under the ring.  Jones looks around for any possible sight of .eyedentity., and since he doesn't know what the hell he's doing, he starts to count him out.  Again, most of the crowd is booing, largely because of their support of Bell, but a good percentage is chanting "Soon, soon, soon, soon."  And as they chant, we see .eyedentity., black eye tattoo and all, come out from under the ring.  The fans changing their chant to "Now" from "Soon" is enough to get Bell to turn around in time, but the kick to the head was the last thing he was expecting to come his way.  But it did, staggering the big Mike Bell.  This was followed by a kick or two aimed at the ribs.  Bell balls up against the ropes, trying desperately to protect himself, but .eyedentity. pours the kicks on, hitting three more to the sides of Bell before turning left and rolling out of the ring again, his white leather pants and white leather boots a blur before he dives back under the ring. The "Soon" chant starts up again, accompanied by some raucous booing as well.  Bell is clearly frustrated more than he is hurt by this tactic, and, standing in one corner of the ring, he holds his fists up in a fighting stance, telling .eyedentity. to "bring it on".  Bell is looking everywhere, almost in paranoia.  Unfortunately, he didn't look in the one spot he thought he was safe, and that's where .eyedentity.'s kick strikes him next...the back of the head.  This takes Bell down, and .eyedentity. goes for the cover, but only for a near fall. Now .eyedentity. stays in the ring, which gets a Bronx cheer from the fans who have been booing him for the last couple of minutes.  .eyedentity. stomps him a couple of times before measuring him up and connecting with a nasty rib breaker, wearing down the midsection of Bell some more.  More well-placed stomps to the head eschew some boos from the Bell 75, while getting some "Now" chants from the .eyedentity. 25.  .eyedentity. picks up Bell and, with a quick knee to the gut, hooks his head and hits him with a nasty looking lifting DDT.  Locking in the hold, .eyedentity. cinches in a modified front-facelock with the legs scissored around Bell.  The Bell 75 is dumbfounded...they can't recall an opponent who has gotten this much of a jump on The Natural in YEARS.  Slowly, the Bell 75 start to cheer Mike Bell on, trying to will him to get to the ropes over the chants of "Now" from the .eyedentity. 25.  Slowly, Bell uses his upper-body strength to make his way to the ropes, where he grabs a deathgrip and doesn't let go.  .eyedentity. picks up Bell, and whips him across the ring.  Almost immediately, he turns to the opposite ropes, and executes a beautiful springboard backflip.  Unfortunately for him, Bell saw it coming and stopped at the opposite ropes.  When .eyedentity. landed on his feet, looking for Bell, Bell came in and hit him with a nasty chop block that made .eyedentity. crumble to the ground on one knee.  .eyedentity. tries to get up, which earns him another spear to the back of the knee from Bell.  Now the Bell 75 is loudly cheering their World Champion, while the .eyedentity. 25 have shifted back to the "Soon" chant.  With .eyedentity. down again, Bell begins to stomp on the knees of .eyedentity., looking to wear him down for the Natural Lock.   After a few stomps, Bell drops the elbow on the knee of .eyedentity. and locks in a leglock hammerlock submission, causing .eyedentity. to claw at the bare back of The Natural.  After a few seconds, Bell lets go, and drops another elbow on the knee, locking in the hammerlock again.  This time, .eyedentity. manages to get his left hand into the eye of Bell, breaking the hold.  .eyedentity. charges at Bell, but Bell manages to pick up .eyedentity. and nail him with a Samoan drop for a near fall.  Bell tries to lock in a spinning toe hold, further trying to damage .eyedentity.'s knee, but .eyedentity. rolls him up into a small package for a near fall.  As both men get up, .eyedentity. goes for a running Yakuza kick, but Bell ducks and the kick manages to hit Bryan Jones square in the jaw, knocking him into a corner.  Bell takes his eye off of .eyedentity. for just a split second too long, concerned with the C2W official long enough for .eyedentity. to clothesline him out of the ring. Once outside, .eyedentity. went under the ring and drew out a kendo stick (Pennyweather: What the hell is that doing here?  Costello: Yeah, those things cost mad loot...we can't afford that!).  He then took his time bashing Bell in the head over and over again until Bell was near unconsciousness.  Rolling Bell back into the ring, .eyedentity. went for the cover, but no one counted the fall.  Realizing that he had hurt the referee far more than the thought, .eyedentity. got up, focused solely on Bell, waiting for him to get up.  (Pennyweather: This is creepy.  Costello: Like he's stalking Bell.)  The .eyedentity. 25 started chanting like hell, once again, "Soon, Soon, Soon".  Bell staggered to his feet, only to turn into a front-facebuster that plants the dazed Bell into the mat.  However, the referee is still not moving.  Seeing this, .eyedentity. doesn't bother going for the cover.  He pulls Bell up by the hair, trying to get him into a position for something big, but Bell counters with a desperation jawbreaker.  .eyedentity. staggers back...into the Natural Driver, which causes the Bell 75 to erupt in cheers!  Tired, Bell goes for the cover, but he hears no count as well, since the ref is still slumped into the corner.  Pulling himself up, Bell picks up the legs of .eyedentity., and locks in The Natural Bend (elevated Boston Crab) in the middle of the ring!  The Bell 75 cheers, the .eyedentity. 25 resumes the "Soon" chant, and .eyedentity. is screaming in the middle of the ring.  All of this, however, is for naught, because there is NO REF to ask if .eyedentity. gives up.  After about a minute of the Natural Bend, Bell lets go, and both men slump to the ground.  Bell is up first, whipping .eyedentity. to the ropes, but .eyedentity. comes back with a HUGE Corkscrew Shooting Star Spear off the second rope which just floors BOTH sides of the crowd into a "Holy Shit" chant.  After that chant dies down, we see both men struggling to get to their feet, but we also hear...boos?  Universal boos?  Pennyweather: Dane!  Dane! Indeed, Eric Dane is running down the aisleway right now, chair in hand.  .eyedentity. has the advantage of the two tired grapplers, and he is holding Bell's head.  If you weren't paying attention closely, you would have missed .eyedentity. tweak his head in Dane's direction just slightly enough that he saw the baseball-bat like chairshot coming and ducked out of the way.  Bell, however, had no such luxury, as the grasp .eyedentity. previously had on his head blocked his vision.  Bell took the chairshot head-on, crumpling to the mat.  .eyedentity., meanwhile, rolled out of the ring and grabbed his kendo stick, standing in a defensive position.  Dane takes one glance at .eyedentity. before shrugging and unloading on Bell, hammering chair shots two more times into his head.  Meanwhile, .eyedentity. has dropped the kendo stick, and is now shaking Bryan Jones to try and wake him up.  Dane slides out of the ring after the two chairshots, prompting .eyedentity. to run in and try harder to wake up Bryan Jones.  Jones stirs enough for .eyedentity. to drag him by his hand over to Bell and make the cover.  And the slow count of DOOM~! is on, as Jones' hand drops for the one...the two...and the three, and the big win for .eyedentity.! Winner: .eyedentity. (pinfall) Immediately, .eyedentity. is out of dodge.  He rolls out of the ring and books it throught the crowd. After the Match: [Eric Dane has a house microphone.] Eric: How do you like me now, Mikey? [BOOOOOOOOOO!!!] Eric: Just consider that a reciept for that little bit of business that you started at The Harvest and you thought you finished at Global. [Smirk.] Eric: And Mike, I'll tell you like I told that idiot Mr. X... [Bell is up and livid, the sound of Eric Dane's voice has always done that to The Natural.] Eric: Nevada belongs to Team Danger. You stick around, you pay the tax. [Dane drops the mic and backs up the entryway leaving an absolutely lived WWA World Champion in the middle of the ring.] Pick His Poison: Round 2 Brian Fisher vs Diablo [Fear Factory’s “Edgecrusher,” and there’s more boos than ugly strippers at an ugly stripper convention.  Brian Fisher emerges from behind the curtain like the wizard he is.  He looks focused.  He’s sporting new attire tonight: yellow trunks that go down to his mid-thigh with a small ‘BF’ in black on the middle of the elastic waistline.  Fisher turns around in the middle of the aisle and points to his ass.  The camera picks up more black writing on his trunks that reads, “People named Mike are my bitch.” Turning back around, he slides underneath the bottom rope and asks for a mic and is handed one.]  Fisher: Like the new tights?  [Fisher turns around, showing off his attire to the crowd.  They promptly boo the fuck out of him.]  Fisher: Ah, fuck you.  [Pausing to absorb the boos.]  Fisher: Shut up you fuckstains and listen.  In just a few short moments, I’m gonna have me some fun by beatin’ the WWA’s resident video game.  But before I do that, I have something to say regarding Lennox’s opponent next week.  [The booing stops momentarily.]  Fisher: Now, I was lookin’ long and hard for someone who not only is worthy of this spot, but also someone who would actually look forward to beatin’ the piss outta Mike Lennox for me.  And I was lookin’ for someone outside of C2W.  [The crowd buzzes.]  Fisher: Hell, someone outside the WWA.  [Still buzzing.]  Fisher: But someone who knew what it took to get things done in a WWA ring.  [Fisher pauses.]  Fisher: So Lennox wanted to go and dig up Diablo from whatever rock he’s been hidin’ under, that’s fine.  But next week, in round three of the Pick Your Poison series, consider his bet raised.  [Another pause.]  Fisher: Jason Lockart—don’t fuck this up or you’ll have more than Michael Lennox to deal with.  [Fisher drops the mic as Rob Zombie’s “Superbeast” hits over the audio system.]  [And yeah—the crowd is standing, cheering, some even playing with themselves.]  [And through the curtain, steps a seven feet, four inch monster who weighs four-hundred twenty-five pounds.  His name is Diablo.  And he looks pissed.  He does, however, favor his midsection on his way to the ring, selling the attack from Team Danger earlier in the evening.]  [Big D uses the ring steps, and as he’s climbing in through the ropes is jumped by Fisher.  The bell rings and this one’s underway.]  The Match: Fisher is on top of Diablo with forearms to his massive back, followed up by some knees to the injured midsection.  Fisher throws some right hands to D’s temple that connect and stagger the big man.  Fisher now chops away at The Immortal One’s chest and backs him into the far corner.  Mounting him, Fisher starts raining down rights and lefts to Mandrake’s face before the big man throws Fisher off of him.  Fisher bounces off the mat quickly and drives some knees into Diablo’s midsection again, doubling him over in the corner.  Fisher quickly climbs out of the ring and ascends to the top rope behind Diablo.  Wasting no time, he jumps onto the back of him, feet-first, putting all his weight on D’s lower back area.  Diablo staggers out of the corner and this move takes the big man down to one knee.  Fisher relishes the opportunity, bouncing off the ropes and hitting a shining wizard for a near fall.  Fisher is in complete control, picking D up by his long, black hair and Irish whipping him off the ropes.  Fisher stupidly telegraphs a back body drop (like he would get the big man up and over anyway) and Diablo counters with a stiff kick to the shoulder.  Fisher shoots straight up, grabbing that left shoulder and ducks an attempt at a huge clothesline from his opponent.  Diablo turns around after missing and walks into a HUGE superkick from Fisher.  Brian doesn’t go for a cover; instead, he bounces off the ropes with one, two, three big roaring elbow drops and the purist fans in attendance clap, while Fisher gets up, bows and flips them the bird to a chorus of boos.  Fisher goes for a cover now, but only gets a one count.  He complains to the ref, telling him to count faster before mounting more offense on the former WWA world champion in the form of a rolling butterfly lock.  The mere sight of Fisher clutching onto Big D, rolling around the ring with the hold applied is one of surprise, as he stops after rolling completely in a circle and tightens the hold around the neck of Diablo.  D gets some strength from somewhere deep down and is able to make it to the ropes, forcing Fisher to break the hold.  Back up on his feet, Fisher waits for Diablo to make his way up.  Victor gets to his knees and Fisher is ready, delivering one, two, three, four stiff kicks to D’s chest.  Brian bounces off the ropes and kicks Diablo straight in the mouth with a yakuza kick for another near fall.  Fisher looks frustrated and heads back to the top rope.  He perches himself on it, waiting for the big man to get up and turn around.  When he does, Fisher flies through the air, looking for a flying cross body, but gets caught in the arms of Mandrake.  Holding Fisher in a horizontal position, Diablo hits a falling powerslam.  The crowd gets behind Big D now, as he looks ready to kill his opponent.  Diablo picks Fisher up by his hair and Irish whips him off the ropes.  Coming off the ropes, Fisher runs square into Diablo’s enormous right boot.  Brian is quick to get up, but Diablo greets him with a few over-hand chops to some ooos and ahhs from those in attendance.  Diablo then grabs Fisher around the throat, signaling for a chokeslam.  Fisher goes low, though, kicking Diablo in the Mandrake family jewels, breaking free of his grasp.  The man formerly known as Granite bounces off the ropes only to run into a clothesline from hell from Diablo, much to the enjoyment of the crowd.  Picking Fisher up off the mat, Diablo sets him up for a vertical suplex.  While in the air, Diablo holds Fisher’s body for six, seven, damn near ten seconds, before bringing him down into a brainbuster.  Diablo covers and Fisher gets a shoulder up at 2 ½.  Again, Diablo picks Fisher up off the mat, only this time Irish whipping him into a near corner.  Big D runs at Fisher and squashes him against the turnbuckles.  After a few more over-hand chops, Diablo picks up Fisher and sets him on the top rope.  The big man gets pretty ambitious here, hooking up Fisher for a superplex.  Fisher tries to squirm out of it, but to no avail as both men go crashing to the mat.  The ref starts a ten count, and Diablo is the first to stir at four.  On his feet at six, he wants to go back up top.  We’ve seen this before, and it hasn’t looked pretty for opponents of Diablo.  D says it’s time for Fisher’s Descent Into Hell, perches and flies.  Fisher moves at the last possible second and Diablo eats canvas.  Both men are being counted again.  Fisher is the first to stir at six and is on his feet at eight.  The ref stops the count.  Fisher turns around to see Diablo, his back turned, make it to his feet.  Fisher creeps up behind him and, as soon as D turns around, hits his Carving Your Name ace crusher.  Fisher covers and Diablo squeaks out at 2 ¾.  Fisher is now the one looking for a high risk payoff, going to the top for his Climbing The Mountain splash.  He takes a little too long, though, as D manages to make it to the ropes, shake them, allowing Fisher’s equilibrium to be thrown off and his nuts to be crotched on the top turnbuckle.  Diablo now smelling blood like a shark in the water.  He exits through the ropes and climbs the turnbuckles behind Fisher.  Pulling Fisher to his feet on the top turnbuckle, he grabs his neck, turns him around and replaces his hand to Fisher’s throat.  Fisher has a One Way ticket to Hell awaiting him.  And then all hell breaks loose.  Eric Dane runs down and jumps onto the apron, yelling something about Diablo's fiancee Morrigan, momentarily distracting the ref and causing Diablo to lose focus for just a second.  In that second, London Freemantle hops the guardrail and sweeps the feet out from underneath the big man, crotching him on the top turnbuckle facing the crowd.  Fisher falls to the ring apron and then to the floor. Stephen Greer, Nick Hades, and Tyrone Walker are right behind The Hollowman.  Freemantle slides into the ring and positions himself on the second rope.  Walker, Greer, and Hades jump on the ring apron and also position themselves on the second rope on either side of Diablo, helping London lift up the four-hundred plus pounder and drive him to the mat with his Fear Effect powerbomb.  Pennyweather: IF THAT'S WHO I THINK IT IS THEN AIDS JUST POWERBOMBED CANCER RIGHT THROUGH THE MAT! Dane, satisfied, stops jawing with the ref, as Freemantle, Walker and Hades all exit back through the crowd.  Dane follows suit, nudging Fisher with his foot on his way out. Fisher pulls himself to his feet on the outside and sees Diablo laid out in the middle of the ring.  Ever the opportunist, he hops onto the ring apron, climbs to the top rope and nails his Climbing The Mountain splash.  He covers, the ref counts and this one is over.  Winner (by pinfall): Brian Fisher Pennyweather: Ladies and Gentlemen, that's all the time we have for tonight, we'll see you next week on c2w.wfwa-online.com for another live webcast of Outcast! [Roll credits.] XL vs BSM: Kevin Cavallaro Jousma vs Ninja Hare: Corey Harding Henry vs Busch: Corey Harding Fairchild vs Eager: Kevin Cavallaro 6-Man Tag: Justin Taylor Dahaka vs Slayton: Bell vs .eyedentity.: Fisher vs Diablo: Ryan Peverly Segments: Respective Handlers