| December 6, 2003 | Lubbock, Texas | Lubbock Municipal Coliseum |


Cean Glace and Gaston Cyrano are heading for their match when Violence Fetish stand in their way.  Spanky Mckay arrogantly prompting at his tag team title resting over his arm. 

Gaston Cyrano:  What the hell do you want!?  Im starting to lose my patience with you two.

[Spanky goes to speak, but Jaden Pierce cuts him out.]

Jaden Pierce:  Look guys, if you want an apology from us then that's fine.  If we would of known that Gaston was going to interfere in our match without trying to target us, then we wouldn't of defended ourselves the way we did.

Cean Glace:  Gaston was getting revenge on Syphon and Dmitri for attacking our manager with that pathetic double team move of theirs.  But still, it's been the second show that you two have got the better of us.  So therefore we don't trust you and we have no respect for you!  Now we are going to go out there and defeat Triston and Void.  We don't expect to see you guys out there.  Go home, do something useful.  You might have the tag team belts but right now Team Varia have more important issues to deal with.

[The response quite surprises Violence Fetish, and Spanky loses his temper.]

Spanky Mckay:  How dare you!  I hope you regret saying that, because we are everything to this tag team division.  We are of major importance to your career in hwf.  Why?  Because without us, the tag team division would not be worth watching.  The fans would lose interest, and every other pathetic team like yours would not be here.

Gaston Cyrano:  Well thankyou for adding effect to what we knew all along.  You are  full of yourselves.  Now, I cant listen to anymore of this.  Let us through so that we can compete in a match that you two will stay clear from.  Ok?

[A look of repugnance forms on Jaden's and Spanky's faces.  They both awkwardly step to the side as Team Varia barge through and continue their journey to ringside.]





It's judgment day.


[‘Crazy Train’ by Ozzy blasts off, and the fans in Seoul go nuts for Saturday Suicide...]

Tim: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to SATURDAY SUICIDE!!!

[The fans scream, and various signs are visible...]

Tim: I’m Tim Miller--

Jeff: And I'm Jeff “Some call me a prick, some call me an asshole, but I'm taller than every single man in Seoul"

[Crowd gives Jeff a mixed reaction.]

Jeff: ...Robinson!

Tim: You know not every Asian person is short, right?

Jeff: Oh Tim, that's just an old wives tale...

[Then the lights? Yeah...they go out right about now, as the crowd goes into hush. They know whats coming, the match that just played out, and they know by looking at their official HWF Program that the time has arrived for the final match of the card. The lights stay out, as two familiar spot lights in the rafters light up the ring, and than slowly move up to the entrance ramp...as a mans hand appears on the big screen...he's slowly playing a guitar, the first few lyrics of "Metallica's No Leaf Clover"...the fans begin to cheer as the slow part of the song fades into the heavier part, and with a quick striking motion of the guitar, fireworks EXPLODE from every which direction around the ramp. Gold, white, blue, red, the fans close enough are forced to look away as the flames, and pyro are just a little to intense for some of them to look at. Smoke begins to pour out where the wrestlers come out of, obscuring the view of anyone that might come out...finally the smoke begins to fade a bit, and you can make out a figure....a large man standing there, arms out stretched....you know, like a CROSS. Though he's been absent from recent weeks of programming, the fan's instantly know how to react. Under his mask, the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION grins. From his back pocket, Cross pulls out a microphone, and gives the crowd a mock half bow. Basking in the ...."appreciation" the fan's show him.]

Cross: Please please folks, with all this love, I'm liable to get an ego.

[Of course they play to him, this is the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION.he knows how to play a crowd. Grinning under his mask, Cross once again bows, and gives the mock "please please, this is just to much" hand motion, much like someone who would try to quiet a standing ovation.]

Cross: So indeed the King HAS returned. Lord and ruler of all that is the HWF. From that ring, to the Elite shirt that retarded kid in section 5b is wearing. Sure, I've been gone, for about two weeks. Since Lost Cause. But hell, did I not earn it? I did happen to beat out the rest of my ELITE...and that is no small feat. In fact, I'd hold that accolade in higher regard than winning King of Violence. Then, of course I beat Michael Trey, Shawn Collins, Dylan O'Riley...AND Alex Sikes..sure sure, I know you're all going "Who"...so let's just focus on the fact that out of the Elite I proved to be t.he most Elite...and considering that I just beat three of the greatest wrestlers EVER...and a handful of guys that you don't care about...well...let's do a little math.

[Cross counts off to seven on his fingers.]

Cross: Seven wrestlers. One night. That's how many people I defeated to retain my world heavyweight championship...and according to logic.that should put me at about JUNE until I should have to defend this belt again...but since that won't fly with some of the brass, I just took my two weeks of vacation...because quite frankly, there is NO ONE left for me to beat. Stephen Sharp? Done. Shawn Collins? Done. Michael Trey? Done. Dylan O'Riley? Done. Simon Tyrell? Done. Jayson Chambers? Done..Who is there left to beat? WHO is there left for me to take on? No one...NOT A DAMN PERSON LEFT IN THIS WORLD IS LEFT FOR ME TO BEAT? Roll Lance Sterling out of the dust...I'll fucking crush him. Roll out J.Simon Rykopathe and I'll embarrass him. Gavin Coens? Buck Williams? Jayson Starr? Extream? ROLL OUT YOUR LEGENDS...bring them on, and I'll show you why there has never been one better. Why there will never be a better World HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION.

[Cross pauses for a moment, looking around the crowd.]

Cross: But..

[he begins to nod his head]

Cross: But things have to change.and I just don't meant the World Title division..but the WORLD TAG title division. My first announcement tonight, as HWF's CHIEF Policy Officer..is to announce that this tag gauntlet match for the pay per view...Sucks. Just flat out, I've never seen anything so terrible in my life. I can already see us giving away free tickets to this pay per view, so once again...the King returns to make things right...and I'm officially adding Scott Anderson and the X-Symbol Jimmy Jett as the FINAL tag team to this match. No ifs, ands or buts about it.

[The fan's seem a bit annoyed by the sudden shift of his speech, but still respond with all those heart warming boos that he's come to love so much.]

Cross: But what I really want to announce...is the next number one contender for MY world heavyweight championship. Now, last week we had Drake Pearson announcing a contender to MY belt in Jon Fuller...UH-HUH...no way...Elite do NOT fight Elite. We're not just a group of wrestlers Pearson, we're a brotherhood, and that's why we CAN'T be beaten. You're pathetic attempts to destroy us from the inside out WILL NOT work. Understand that Drake? I swear to god you try and pull another move like that again, I'll have you busted down to wrestling Dreamwalker in dark matches before Fallout. Don't think I can't Pearson, don't think I won't.

[The fan's respond with boos, and Cross just rolls his eyes.]

Cross: But we DO need a number one contender...we do need someone to face at the pay per view. That's why next week on ELITE Saturday Night Suicide, we'll be having a NUMBER ONE CONTENDER's battle royal. Featuring the cream of the crop we have to offer in the HWF. The very tip TOP of talent that we can bring to you...the "loyal and loving fans". Whoever WINS this battle royal will face me, LIVE ON ELITE PAY PER VIEW at Holy Night three..

[The fan's actually respond with cheers to this announcement. ]

Cross: And with that, I will leave you all as I look forward to facing "whoever" win MIGHT win next weeks battle royal...so people enjoy tonights main event as Jon Fuller and Jimmy Jett DESTROY Michael Trey once and for all...

[And though he does seem to be in good spirits...the smile underneath his mask...the one unseen by everyone but him..would suggest that perhaps something is up with next weeks.."main event".]

[We’re outside the arena. Back entrance. Silently, snow falls to the ground. It’s a calming sight, even here in the state of Texas. As the night air passes by, and the Christmas season wraps us all within, you can’t help but notice a jet-black stretch limo roll onto the scene.]

Tim: Who’s this?

Jeff: Probably that schmuck Pearson trying to act like he actually means something around here.

[As the limo creeps to a stop, we can now see that the licence plate reads “HWF”. Suddenly, the fans in the arena erupt as the limo door swings open and a rather familiar looking man clad in an impressive business suit, exits the vehicle, closing the door behind him.]

Tim: It’s Chambers!

Jeff: Oh, for fuck’s sake…

[The fans begin chanting his name as Jayson smiles, looking toward the arena and walking to the rear entrance. He reaches out with his hand on the door handle, taking a deep breath.]

Chambers: Here we go again…

[Swinging the door open to an empty hallway, Chambers steps inside and removes his trade mark baby blue glasses. It isn’t until now that we realize he still walks with a very bad limp – primarily from his past knee injuries and the attack he received from Cross in what could have been Chambers’ last match…]

Chambers: Home sweet home… or something like that…

[We fade to ringside.]

Tim: This is truly a special moment for the HWF! After losing the World Title to Cross and being jumped and thrown around like a rag doll by the so-called World Champion, we never knew if we’d see Jayson Chambers again. But last week he shocked the world. Chambers may not be in the ring ever again, but you can rest assured, his presence WILL be felt!

Jeff: Will you shut up about this kid already?

Tim: Jeff, whether you like it or not, this KID is one of the best competitors to EVER step into an HWF ring.

[Jaden is seen walking down one of the back corridors of the Municipal Arena. He takes a sharp turn around a corner and ends up in front of a door that holds the name plate 'Violence Fetish' upon its front. He pushes into the room only to stop dead in his tracks. The camera peers over his shoulder where we see none other than Fallout advocate Shawn Collins, sitting in a chair.]

Shawn Collins: Oh, shit. Hi!

[Shawn gets up from the chair, and wanders around the room. He picks up his bag, and peers out of the door.]

Shawn Collins: Can't be too cautious, you know? Had to hide in here for a bit. Hope you don't mind.

[Jaden cocks an eyebrow, not appearing at all impressed with someone invading his and Spanky McKay's dressing room. A thought suddenly occurs to him. He rushes over to a blue duffel bag sitting on the floor beside a set of lockers and opens it in a rather quick manner to reveal the HWF tag team title belts. Calmer now, Jaden looks back at Collins and speaks in a very dry tone.]

Jaden Pierce: What do you want?

Shawn Collins: Just hiding out. Suicide's become a rather hostile show to hang around, if you haven't noticed.

[Jaden nods, a grin spreading over his face.]

Jaden Pierce: I'd like to think that I somehow have added to that atmosphere of hostility. But really, there must be a better reason.

[Jaden takes a step towards Collins now.]

Shawn Collins: Speaking of which... good job with that. Glad to see that the Elite are getting a run for their money. It's always good to know that some of the guys on this show aren't afraid to step up to the plate when it comes to them.

[Shawn extends his hand.]

Jaden Pierce: Right. Thanks, I think.

[Jaden looks at Collins' outstretched hand and then peers around the room, half expecting an ambush of some sort. Satisfied no one is going to get the jump on him, Jaden extends his hand and shakes Shawn's.]

[Shawn looks at the tag titles in the bag.]

Shawn Collins: What's the deal with those?

Jaden Pierce: Well, isn't it customary for the tag team champions to have the tag title belts?

Shawn Collins: You seem rather protective, mate. I'm not going to take them from you! But, are you going to take Pearson's advice, or what?

[Jaden gives a slight shrug.]

Jaden Pierce: I really don't know what I'm going to do. Spanky wants to keep them, he says fuck Pearson and this board policy crap. But at the same time I know how much it would anger Scott Anderson to have our reign legitimized.

[Collins smiles.]

Shawn Collins: I'm sure Anderson would love it. Say, you haven't given him a birthday present yet, have you? You should probably think about that. As for me, I've got some errands to run. Keep up the good work.

[Jaden nods slightly, another smile appearing on his face.]

Jaden Pierce: Thanks Collins... But don't go getting beat up now.

[Shawn furrows his brow, and rolls his eyes.]

Shawn Collins: Ta!

[Takes a look outside, and runs into the hallway.]

Jaden Pierce: Ta?

[He shakes his head and turns to close the door, just as Spanky McKay pushes through it and into the room, holding a couple bottles of water.]

Spanky McKay: Was that Shawn Collins I just saw running out of here?

[Jaden nods.]

Jaden Pierce: Yes it was. And we need to chat.

[The scene fades out.]

Triston Adams/Void vs. Team Varia

[We cut back to ringside, where Cean Glace and Gaston Cyrano are already in the squared circle, jaw-jacking to the fans whilst 'Earache' by Headshot fades out.]

Tim: Team Varia are already waiting in the ring, hot off a big win over All Girlz last weekend.

Jeff: Big win, schmig win. They still got their asses handed to them by Violence Fetish afterwards!

['I Just Want You' The familiar chords of Ozzy swallow the arena as the darkness falls. The words 'Nobody's Unbeatable' fall onto the HWF-Tron as Triston steps through the curtains along with Void. The duo, known as the New Era, make their way to the ring slowly and slide under the bottom rope. Once inside the squared circle, Triston goes to each side and raises his arm whilst Void steps up onto the second turnbuckle and signals to the cheering fans...]

Tim: I'm surprised to see Triston in the ring... It's the first time he's actually stuck around for a match in weeks.

Jeff: Although he doesn't look entirely happy about it.

[Suddenly, Team Varia rush their opponents and catch them off guard with some big time blows to the back. They back them against the ropes and then simultaneously whip them off into the ropes opposite, bending over in preparation for a couple of back body drops! However, both Adams and Void stop just short, with Triston kicking Cean Glace upright and then hammering away with a barrage of rights before clotheslining him over the top rope and quickly following! Meanwhile, Void stops in front of Gaston Cyrano with arms folded, before eventually, Gaston lifts his head to see where his opponent got to, only to be drilled with a bicycle kick straight to the jaw!]

Jeff: Hah! Void played Cyrano just like a pianist plays a piano!

Tim: Not quite how I would have put it, but you're right there...

[Void wastes little time in nailing Gaston with some boots to the back of the head, before dragging him up and into the corner and continuing the assault with some big time elbows. He then whips Gaston off into the corner opposite and charges after him, only to have Cyrano hit the corner and spring forwards from it, using the momentum to nail Void with an almighty clothesline!]

Tim: Good Lord! What a shot!

[Meanwhile, on the outside, Triston Adams has been pummelling Cean Glace, before then attempting to whip him into the steel stairs. However, Glace reverses, sending his opponent into them hard, before he quickly hops back up onto the apron and calls for the tag. Gaston does just that, before lifting Void up and delivering a backbreaker, before holding Void on his knee whilst Cean climbs to the top rope. He then flips off backwards, coming down with a HUGE moonsault on top of Void which sends him tumbling off of Cyrano's knee!]

Jeff: That was a pretty nice move! These Team Varia guy's aren't half bad given the right opportunity...

Tim: They are capable of being deadly when focused.

[Gaston exits the ring, as Cean begins to choke his opponent with his boot, using the ropes for extra leverage, only to have referee Harry Sullivan stop him. He tries to give Glace a warning, but the Team Varia member is too busy dragging Void back upright and into the corner, nailing him with several shoulder tackles to the mid-section. He then pushes Void down into the depths of the corner, kicking at him to make sure he stays there, before heading towards the opposite side of the ring and signalling towards the fans... They boo in response as Cean charges across the ring and leaps at his opponent in search of a bronco buster! However, Void reaches out and grabs him with both hands around the throat!]

Tim: Glace looking to cause a little embarrassment there, but it seems to have backfired!

Jeff: I can't believe he went for a bronco buster? The last time I saw one of those was a good couple of years ago, when...

Tim: Stop right there Jeff... I don't think our World Champion would appreciate you bringing that up, and you're not exactly in his good books already.

[Void stands back upright and then lifts Cean Glace up into the air, still choking the life out of his smaller opponent, before then powerbombing him into the canvas. He then makes the tag to Triston Adams, who has just returned to the apron, before Triston launches himself over the top rope and catches Glace with a leg drop, before then making the cover...]



[Kick out!!!]

Tim: Close count there, but Team Varia are still in this one...

Jeff: Yeah, but they need to do something if they're gonna win, and fast!

[Triston drags his opponent back upright and forces him against the ropes with some more punches, before then attempting to whip him off into the ropes opposite. However, Cean somehow reverses, causing Adams to collide with Gaston Cyrano's out-stretched knee, before he walks forwards and is wiped out with the Espionage Savat kick! Glace makes the tag, and the duo then stomp away at Triston with all they had. Gaston then pulls him into standing head scissors position, before they flip Adams into the air and slam him hard into the canvas with a Double Powerbomb!]

Tim: Gaston making the cover now... One... Two... Thr---NO! Triston Adams somehow kicks out!

Jeff: Dumbass should just give up now...

[Sullivan forces Glace out of the ring, as Cyrano grabs Triston by the hair and drags him upright. He immediately hooks his opponent up and then lifts him into the air, looking to deliver a hanging vertical suplex! However, Adams wriggles free and lands behind Gaston, clubbing at his back with some forearm shots before lifting him up and hitting a back drop! He then rolls over towards his corner and makes the tag to Void once again, before Void lifts Gaston up into an elevated bear hug position, whilst Triston Adams then goes to bounce off the ropes behind him. However, Cean Glace has dropped off the apron and moved around the ring. He grabs Triston by the boot, tripping him up and dragging him out of the squared circle before then taking him down and out with a Requiem of Spirit (Crucifix powerbomb) straight onto the unforgiving floor!!]

Tim: Triston Adams has just been broken in half!!!

Jeff: And how!

[Meanwhile, back in the ring, Gaston begins to battle out of the bear hug with some shots to Void's head, before he eventually breaks free and then lands in front of his opponent. Cean Glace slides back into the squared circle and grabs Void's head from behind, driving him straight into the canvas with reverse DDT! Gaston follows up with a falling head butt, before Team Varia signal for the end, dragging Void back to his feet and whipping him off into the ropes. They wait for the big man to come back before lifting him into the air and then sending him crashing down into the canvas with a devastating Double Spinebuster! Cyrano drops down and makes the count, whilst Cean checks that Triston Adams won't be breaking the count...]





Tim: And Team Varia win it, using that double spinebuster once again!

Jeff: They sure d... Hey! It's the All Girlz!!!

[Sure enough, Amber Benson and Salene Scott charge down the ramp and slide into the ring, immediately attacking Team Varia whilst they celebrate!]

Tim: This must be in revenge for their defeat last week!

Jeff: Who cares?

[The All Girlz quickly take the advantage over the worn out Team Varia, knocking Gaston Cyrano out of the ring before setting Cean Glace up for a double team manoeuvre. However, Syphon and Dimitri then hop over the safety barrier and slide into the ring, looking to regain some momentum after their decimation at the hands of Violence Fetish on Wednesday Fallout!]

Tim: This is carnage!

Jeff: More like a-

[They wipe out Amber Benson with a double clothesline, before turning their attentions towards Salene Scott. Dimitri fires away with a series of European uppercuts, before then taking her down with a snapmare. Syphon runs and jumps onto the second rope, using it to springboard back and nail Salene Scott with a beautiful dropkick! However, from out of no-where, Team Varia re-enter the ring armed with steel chairs! Cean Glace cracks his chair over Syphon's head, dropping him in an instant, whilst Gaston drives his rim-first into Dimitri's gut. Cyrano drops the chair and then nails Dimitri with a DDT straight onto it!]

Tim: Team Varia gaining some revenge for the vicious attack on their manager, Mr. Aran last week!

Jeff: Revenge is supposed to be a dish best served cold, and it doesn't get colder than a winter's night in Texas!

[All Girlz, Triston and Void are literally out cold at ringisde as Gaston and Cean quickly escape from the ring and awkwardly run up the entrance ramp.  The crowd boos as they reach the top.  The boos augment as Mr. Aran makes presence on the ramp.  He anxiously raises a mic to his mouth.]

Mr. Aran:  Oi, listen up Syphon and Dmitri!  Ive got something to tell you.  I want everyone in this building to know that after experiencing your finishing move at last weeks Suicide, it is not as effective as it looks.  Yeah, I may have been resting at home for a few days, but that's because Im a manager not fit to wrestle, and a manager who has never been provoked the way you two provoked me last week! 

[More boos from the crowd as Syphon and Dmitri stand innocently in the ring.]

Mr. Aran:  Yeah that's right, Team Varia aren't afraid of you really, and knowone has a reason to be.  Your finisher is a great piece of eye candy, and Team Varia congratulate you for your success in deceiving the crowd with this spectacle of a move.  But a spectacle is all it is.  When you hit it on an opponent it is as blunt as anything.  I know I shouldn't be offering advice to a rival tag team but I think you should question yourselves over whether you want a piece of eye candy, or whether you want an act of power that threatens the life of your opponents.

[Syphon and Dmitri enrage in the ring, having to listen to the pathetic lies coming from Mr. Aran.  Syphon whispers in Dmitris ear and they both smirk,  Dmitri walks to the outside of the ring and collects a steel chair from near the announcers table.  He also grabs a mic.]

Jeff:  Well, ladies and gentleman, both myself and Tim are absolutely astonished that Syphon and Dmitri would degrade to a team that relies on weapons to take care of a situation!  Its just not right!

Tim:  You better shut your mouth Jeff!  I did not agree with you at all.  Where did you get that from?  Whether they use weapons or not, Syphon and Dmitri are a very impressive tagteam.

Jeff:  Yeah Tim, visually impressive.  Its all eye-candy.  Can you believe it, Mr. Aran has rightfully informed us that S and D are not a threat after all.  Its just an illusion! 

[Whilst Dmitri is collecting the steel chair, Syphon drags the lifeless Void over to the turnbuckle.  Team Varia question Mr. Aran over whats going on whilst standing on the entrance ramp.  Syphon sets Void up on the turnbuckle, and then climbs onto the apron, quickly turning around to signal to Dmitri who then places the steel chair on the floor.  Dmitri then lifts up the mic.]

Dmitri:  Mr. Aran you've talked you trash, so allow my tag partner  Syphon to provide you with an example of a typical groundbreaking stunt.  One of many that we enjoy executing.  The type of stunts we enjoy using on pathetic and annoying tag teams like yours Mr. Aran!

[Mr. Aran narrows his eyes as Syphon sticks his finger up at him from the top rope.  Then, Syphon jumps up, springboards off the rope sideways, hooks Void and hurricanrannas him, making Void collide with the steel chair on impact.  Mr. Aran furies on the entrance ramp and looks disconcertingly at his team.  Void lies lifeless in the ring. Cean shakes his head and he and Gaston exhaustadly walk backstage, leaving Mr. Aran standing with his eyes fixed on the ring ,breathing heavily.]

Tim:  Oh my, what could possible be on the mind of Mr. Aran now.  You can see it in his eyes.  A man that's wanted victory, and wanted dominence.  But right now, on his path to the tag team titles  he has something he didn't think he'd ever have!  And that's a rival.  An equally enthralling tagteam that are also after the tag team titles at Holy Night.   Syphon and Dmitri have literally come from nowhere, yet they are impressing. Mr. Aran knows it, and he's not liking it one bit.

Jeff:  …


[Backstage. Jimmy Jett lounges on a big black crate, probably for storing cables or midgets or something. Jett has a small dish of nachos in hand and next to him stands Jason Roberts, a microphone in his hand. Roberts pauses for a few seconds, looking out of the corner of his eyes as Jimmy casually finishes another nacho.]

Jimmy: Hey, you got the thumbs up and the red light on. That means talk.

[Roberts nervously laughs before turning more serious and beginning the interview.]

Roberts: Jimmy, last week you pulled off what many have called an upset victory over Michael Trey in a flaming tables match.

Jimmy: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hey, Roberts, riddle me this. How many former World Champions do I have to beat before it's not an upset anymore?

Roberts: Err. Anyway, this week you're going up against Michael Trey again, however, this time you have a partner in Jon Fuller.

[Jimmy finishes another nacho before continuing.]

Jimmy: Yeah, two against one, ya gotta love that, don't ya? You see, tonight's the night we put Trey back in retirement. This last run started out fun. I mean, the Lights Out moonsault one more time was good for a few shits and giggles, but it's gotten kinda stale. How many wins has he had since he returned?

Roberts: Well he did survive six opponents at Lost Cause including a pinfall.

Jimmy: That's not a win, moron. Cross put his ass through a flaming table. Just like I did last week. You see, Trey has done nothing more than tarnish his legacy since his return. Oh, and I use the term legacy loosely. Someone needs to remind him that it's time to pack his bags and go back to doing whatever the hell he was doing when he wasn't in our business.

Roberts: Someone?

Jimmy: Yeah by someone I mean, Jon Fuller and myself.

Roberts: Hmm. and where exactly is Jon Fuller right now?

[Jimmy looks up at Roberts and shakes his head a little in disbelief. Jimmy then casually eats another nacho before he continues.]

Jimmy: Don't even go there Roberts. Fuller is where he is and he's doing what he's doing. There's really no point in trying to put some rift between the two of us, we're tighter than a twelve year old's cunt. Oops, sorry. Forgot we're in Texas. Make that eight year old's cunt.

[Loud boos are heard as Jimmy finishes off the last nacho. Just then, a man approaches, carrying a six-pack of Zima.]

Jimmy: Mmm. just what I needed.

[Jimmy looks down at the pack and notices one of the bottles is empty, a rose sticking out. Jimmy picks up the bottle and looks at it for a second, his eyes catching something in the cardboard package. He reaches down and picks up a piece of paper, which had been curled around the outside of the bottle. Jimmy looks at it a second, a serious look on his face. Finally, he begins laughing a little. Jimmy turns over and glares at Jason Roberts who was trying to read the note as well.]

Jimmy: Fuck on outta here, Roberts.

[Roberts disappears as Jimmy leaves out an almost silent "damn" before digging into his pocket and sliding out a cell phone.]

[The scene is dark. We see a little green light comes on somewhere in the darkness. It rises and falls, rises again and we hear something.]

Voice: You there? Hey, you there?

[Another green light comes in from the left side of the screen, and the two lights seem to bump into each other.]

Voice 2: You ass, we're in the same room.

[The lights come on, and we see Shawn Collins on the left with Sean Sterling on the right both holding walkie talkies. Shawn wipes his forehead, and Sean wiggles his walkie talkie around.]

Sean Sterling: I don't think this fucking thing works.

Shawn Collins: What? I just got new batteries today!

Sean Sterling: Were they Energizer?

Shawn Collins: Duracell.

Sean Sterling: No wonder the fucking thing isn't fucking working... You have to go with the Energizer. It has the bunny.

[Shawn breathes hard, almost like a soldier from all those overly melodramatic war films. Sean's too busy beating the walkie talkie to bother with dramatic effects.]

Shawn Collins: So, what'd you get Scotty baby for his birthday?

Sean Sterling: Nothing special. I baked him a little cake with a special ingredient dropped in for flavor. How about you?

Shawn Collins: Put Buckley's in his Thermos.

Sean Sterling: It tastes awful. And it works.

Shawn Collins: Yeah, man. I was really worried about him actually. He seemed to have a little cough going on. Hopefully, this'll all work out. He'll be thanking me tomorrow! You watch and see!

Sean Sterling: Well, the flu is going around right now. Poor Scotty might not have gotten his injection. I mean, God forbid him getting sick. What would we do without him?

Shawn Collins: Well, we definitely wouldn't be having this much fun, now would we?

Sean Sterling: Abso-fucking-lutley.

[As the two snicker to themselves, the sound of a door cracking open from off camera is heard. All at once, Sean, Shawn, and the Camera direct their attention to the doorway... only to see Void standing there with his head tilted to the side.]

Void: Hey, what are you two doing here?!

Sean Sterling: Voidy! Hows life been treatin' you, fuckhea-- erm... buddy?

Void: You guys shouldn't be here. Should you?

Shawn Collins: Take it easy, mate. We're just planning a little surprise for your boss, Mr. Anderson, that's all! In fact...

[Shawn looks at Sean. They both nod.]

Shawn Collins: ...we wanted you to be a part of it! It IS his birthday after all. Right, Sean?

Sean Sterling: Exactly! And whats better than a nice surprise for Mr. Anderson? Nothing!

Void: Well, I guess... what did you have in mind?

Shawn Collins: Well, step right this way sir and we'll tell you exactly what we have in store for Scotty...

Sean Sterling: And turn off the fucking camera, would you?


StreeX vs. Devin Dash

[We cut to the ring where StreeX and Devin Dash are already waiting for their match to start.]

Jeff: Wow! I didn't even notice these two were there already.

Tim: The mysteries of the HWF.

Jeff: Are you patronizing me?

Tim: Not purposely.

Jeff: Good, because I don't have any lewd comments about your mom ready at the moment.

[The referee signals for the bell and things are immediately under way. Both men move to the center of the ring and begin exchanging punches. StreeX immediately gains the upper hand, Irish whipping Dash into the near corner and following in with a huge splash. StreeX backs off as Dash stumbles out. StreeX nails Dash with a standing drop kick which takes him up and over the top rope.]

Tim: And it's all StreeX here in the early goings.

Jeff: How do you do that?

Tim: Do what?

Jeff: The 'Streex' thing.

Tim: The StreeX thing?

Jeff: You did it again!

[StreeX moves to the outside now, despite protests from the referee. He moves to grab Dash, but is surprised by a quick sucker punch. Dash then grabs StreeX by the head and bounces his face off of the canvass. StreeX takes a few steps backwards, grabbing his nose, and is clotheslined by Dash. He goes down to the floor on the outside. However, by now inside the ring, the referee has reached a count of EIGHT! Dash quickly rolls in to break the count and then back out once more. When he rolls back out StreeX is right on him, nailing a forearm blow to the head and then dropping Dash to the outside with a sharp DDT. StreeX collects Dash and rolls him back in under the bottom rope. StreeX goes for the cover.]

[ONE! TWO!! NO!!!]

Tim: Almost! StreeX almost had it.

Jeff: S-t-r-e-e-x. Damn it! I can't do it!

[Dash gets his foot on the bottom rope just in time to break up the three count. StreeX brings Dash back up to his feet, then up and over with a vertical suplex. StreeX then drags Dash towards the corner and moves up to the second turnbuckle, seating himself on the top. He leaps off, making for an elbow, but misses as Dash moves out of the way. Sensing this is his chance to capitalize, Dash gets up and springboards off of the ropes with an elbow of his own that finds its mark. He then grabs StreeX and locks him in a boston crab.]

Jeff: Where the hell did that come from?

Tim: I'm not sure, but Devin Dash has an excellent chance of winning it here if he can get StreeX to submit!

Jeff: You did it again!

[StreeX fights back however, pulling and clawing his way towards the ropes. Slowly but surely he makes it, prompting the ref to call for a break in the hold. Dash holds on to it up until a three count, but eventually does let go. He however launches right into stomping on StreeX and backing him into a corner. With StreeX in the corner and prone, Dash continues his stomping regime. But StreeX fights back, pulling himself up the ropes and to a level playing field once more. He then shoves Dash backwards and right into the referee who in turn falls to the canvass. StreeX takes this opportunity to nail a soccer kick low blow to Dash that drops him to the mat. The males in the crowd give a collective gasp as a man hating dyke screams out, "THAT'S THE STUFF!"]

Tim: Oooh, that looked painful.

Jeff: Poor little Devin. Big Devin looks like he's in a lot of pain!

[StreeX now moves in on Dash, as the referee makes his way back to his feet, and locks him up, bringing him into the air, and dropping him right on his head with a brainbuster suplex. StreeX goes for the cover.]


Tim: And StreeX wins this one in a fairly decisive manner, but with a little help from a low blow.

Jeff: Yes, Streex wins!. Ah damn it, I give up.

[StreeX jumps to his feet, celebrating the victory, as his music blasts out over the arena.]

[With the sound of "Happy Birthday to You" fading, the scene opens in the Elite locker room. As Anderson receives pats on the back and the fans send their usual boos, there comes a knock on the door.]

Scott Anderson: You over there...yeah you, go see who it is..

[The Average Joe office worker near the door, goes to the door and shouts...]

Office worker: Who is it?

Sean Sterling: Sean Sterling. Now open the door, fuckhead.

[Cross yells at the office worker.]

Cross: Well who is it? If you don't tell me in the next second, I'll use my power as CHIEF POLICY ENFORCER to dock your pay...

[The office worker looks intimidated.]

Office Worker: uh...uh...its...uh...some...uh...du...du...dude...named Sea...Sean...Sterling.

[Cross and Anderson look at each other with a puzzled look...]

Cross and Scott Anderson: Sterling?!

Scott Anderson: What could he want?

Cross: I don't know, let him in...

[With that said, the office worker opens the door.]

[Sean stands at the doorway, smirking that oh-so-'wonderful' smirk of his. In his hands, he holds a nicely decorated cake with 'Happy Birthday, Scotty!' iced in cursive on the top.]

Sean Sterling: Hello, hello, hello! How is everyone on this fine evening?

[Scott Anderson looks at Sean Sterling.]

Scott Anderson (in a cautious voice): We are doing just fine Mister Sterling. And what brings you to our small party?

Sean Sterling: Firstly, let's cut the formal shit. Shall we? I'm Sean. You're Scott. No misters. Now that that's out of the way...

[Sean held out the cake.]

Sean Sterling: A gift. Nothing special.

Scott Anderson (in a cautious voice): How nice of you. Johnny would you mind....

[Johnny Thunder takes the cake from Sean Sterling and takes it to a table. He takes the knife there and cuts the cake into pieces for people to eat. Thunder then starts putting pieces of the cake in the plates and starts serving them out. It's not long before the entire room full of guests has a piece of the cake. Before Anderson takes a bite...]

Scott Anderson: This is not poisoned or anything?

Sean Sterling: I would never. Poisons not my style. If I wanted to kill you, I'd sneak up on you with a knife and stab you in the back of the head. Poison? Bah.

[Sarcasm, or so one would hope. Scott looks to Sean, still cautious, before dropping the fork down toward the piece of cake...]

Scott Anderson: Okay everyone lets see if Sean Can Cook...

[With that said, everyone in the room begins to eat their piece of cake.]

Scott Anderson (chewing): Hmm...not bad. Kind of taste tangy. Is it some wango tango cake or something?

Sean Sterling: Oh no. It's a family recipe. I call it... Pisse pour Vous.

[Scott Anderson immediately getting the punchline quickly spits out the piece of cake in his mouth and drops the plate onto the floor. As does the rest of the Elite...]

Scott Anderson: UGHHHH...someone quickly get my thermos of lemonade...

[Anderson scrambles around the room looking for his thermos to rinse his mouth. He finally finds it sitting on the coffee table and grabs it. He opens it up and quickly fills his mouth with his lemonade. But Anderson quickly spits that out of his mouth too....as Collins spiked it earlier with Buckley's without Anderson's knowledge.]


[Meanwhile Sterling hands a note to Cross.  Cross takes it and reads it outloud...]

Cross:  Dear Cross...It is the order of the board of directors that you put the HWF Title on the line against Shawn Collins next week on Suicide or face stiff penalties...Have a nice day, Drake Pearson...

[Cross crumples the paper and tosses it on the floor.  During the chaos, Sean simply sneaks out chuckling under his breath. Things begin to settle down as Anderson practically almost vomits due to the Buckley's in his Thermos. 'It tastes awful. But it works.' Words to live by.]

Johnny Thunder: Boss...? You okay...?

[We open in the backstage area to a shot of Dynamite Newton walking down the hallway. He still looks a little bruised from the beaten he got from StreeX and his goons last week. Suddenly from out of nowhere StreeX stands in front of Newton.]

Jeff: That is a little un-character like for StreeX. He doesn't normally stand toe to toe with Newton.

[StreeX just stares at Newton. Newton looks around trying to find the Career Killaz hanging out somewhere. When he turns back StreeX bitch slaps Newton and turns and runs.]

Dynamite: You aren't getting away easily this time.

[With that said Newton chases down the hallway after StreeX. Half way down both Career Killaz step out and Newton runs into them. Surprisingly Newton runs into them and they hit the floor. Newton stops and delivers a kick to each of them. He then goes after StreeX again. Running out into the car park we see StreeX speeding away in a pick up truck.]

Dynamite Newton: FUCK!

[Newton runs over to the nearest car and smashes the window. He jumps in and out of the view of the camera's he starts it up and takes off after StreeX.]

Tim: Newton has a match against Johnny Thunder soon. He can't leave the arena

Jeff: Oh pipe down. Thunder would of tore him apart anyway..

[Backstage, Michael Trey and Chris Davison stand, leaning against a wall.]

Davison: So... you're just going to take on the entire Elite, hunh?

Trey: Very funny. It's not like there's much I can do right now, Chris. Anderson nailed me with that whole no-title-shot clause Sharp had... as interesting as it may be to see the Elite in-fighting for the World Title, I really wanted that shot. And now I'll have to wait... who knows if I'll ever get it.

Davison: And so you're taking on two guys at once why?

Trey: It's not as though I WANTED the handicap match.

[Davison just sort of smirks. Trey pauses and nods his head in concession.]

Trey: Okay, I sort of wanted a handicap match, but I'm just saying that Anderson's going to do just about anything to shut down this resistance. If it means spending two Elite to take me down, then he'll do it.

Davison: If I remember right, that won't be quite enough to take you down.

Trey: "If you remember right..." If you remember right, I can kick your ass too.

[Davison just shakes his head, smiling. A tech comes down the hallway and sticks his head out from behind a corner.]

Tech: Mr. Trey, Mr. Anderson would like to see you.

[Trey turns to Davison and pats him on the back.]

Trey: Duty calls. I'll catch you later.

Hostile Man vs. Johnny Thunder

[The houselights dim as White Zombie's 'Thunderkiss 65' begins to blare ever so loudly from the arena's PA system. Instantly the lights turn on and begin to flicker in a strobe light like fashion as Thunder makes his way from the back trough the curtains. At the very same time the HWF-Tron also comes to life and begins to flash highlights from various Johnny Thunder matches from the HWF of old. Once Thunder makes his presence felt to the crowd with both arms raised in the air, he begins to make his way down the aisle and into the ring ignoring the entire crowd and their overbearing response to his presence at the very same time. Once inside the ring, he signals for his music to be cut with the ever popular slash across the throat gesture. As the music finally dies down, Thunder leans both arms onto the top rope and stares at the entrance way eagerly awaiting his opponent.]

Tim: Well, here’s Johnny Thunder but I don’t think we’ll be seeing his opponent Chris Newton... Not after what happened earlier between him and StreeX.

Jeff: So what’s Rolston waiting for? Award JT the victory already!

[Apparently, Thunder has the same idea and demands that Nigel Rolston announces him as the winner. Rolston lifts the mic, about to do just that when all of a sudden, ‘Zero’ by the Smashing Pumpkins begins to play over the PA! Both men look confused, as out walks the Hardcore Champion Jon Fuller, decked out in ‘Jon-Tastic’ t-shirt but missing the Hardcore Title. He arrogantly strides down the ramp, ignoring the boos along the way, climbs the steel stairs and steps through the ropes, before then walking over towards Nigel Rolston and snatching the mic away from him...]

Jon Fuller: Now, now Johnny... I can see how disappointed you are at not having an ass to kick tonight, and how you feel like you’ve just been robbed. As your good friend, I know that this wasn’t what you wanted to happen. And that’s why, I’ve just been talking to Scott Anderson and we’ve agreed that it’d be a great idea if we find you a replacement opponent!

Tim: A replacement?!?

Jeff: Shhhhhhh!

Jon Fuller: So, without further ado, let’s bring him on out here... Ladies and gentlemen, let’s give a warm welcome to... Hostile Man!

[Just then, the slow riffs off Black Sabbath's 'Hostile Man' come onto the speakers and the crowd cheers loudly. You hear a low, distorted voice say..]

'I...am... Hostile Man...'

[Then there's five drum beats, followed by a hard-hitting beat that comes on faster than the normal 'IronMan'. As the music rocks the venue, Hostile Man walks out from the back looking somewhat confused. In his hand is a microphone and he wastes little time in using it...]

Hostile Man: Hold on a second Jon... I’m not scheduled to be wrestling tonight. I’ve not even had a chance to prepare or anything, so what’s the deal?

Jon Fuller: The deal is, if you refuse to face JT, I have it under the authority of Scott Anderson that next week you’ll be facing Savahanna Moore in a Bra and Panties match.

Hostile Man: I see... So this is just another example of how you Elite are screwing up this great company? Well, since I guess I have no choice in the matter, I think I’m just going to have go down to the ring and teach good ol’ JT a lesson he’ll never forget then!

[With that, the fans give a large pop as Hostile Man drops the mic and then rushes down the ramp, sliding into the ring. He charges straight towards Johnny Thunder, ducking an attempted clothesline and instead nailing Jon Fuller, knocking him through the ropes and out of the squared circle! Hostile Man then turns around and nails JT with a picturesque dropkick, before he hops back to his feet, taunting Thunder to do the same!]

Tim: It looks as if this match is most definitely on!

[However, just as Hostile Man is set to follow up, Fuller reaches into the ring and grabs him by the foot, stopping him in his tracks before raising his mic...]

Jon Fuller: Oh, and one more thing... I’m the special guest referee!

[Johnny Thunder clubs at Hostile Man’s back, taking him by surprise as Mr. Jon-Tastic releases his grip, smirking...]

Jon Fuller: Now bare with me here folks... This is my first time refereeing, so I might be prone to a few mistakes here and there...

Tim: Gimme a break... How obvious is it that Fuller and Thunder have planned this out from the beginning?

Jeff: I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about...

[He removes the ‘Jon-Tastic’ shirt to reveal referee’s attire underneath, before sliding into the ring and watching whilst Thunder backs Hostile Man into the corner and then hammers away with a volley of punches. He then grabs him by the arm and whips the HWF’s resident Super Hero off into the corner opposite, before running after him in search of a body avalanche! However, HM lifts his boot into the air, catching Thunder hard in the jaw, before then hopping up onto the second turnbuckle and quickly taking him down with a flipping neckbreaker, as the fans go wild!]

Tim: Well, at least Hostile Man isn’t going to go down without a fight...

Jeff: Geez, will you stop being so pessimistic? Fuller could turn out to be a fantastic referee!

Tim: I think there’s about as much chance as you having something constructive to say.

Jeff: Ouch man... That hurt.

[Hostile Man immediately follows up on the attack, putting the boots to Thunder before then dragging him back upright and nailing him with some stiff chops to the chest. He then whips him off the ropes and catches JT with an overhead belly to belly suplex on the return, before dropping down to make the cover. Fuller goes down with him and slowly starts counting...]




Tim: That was a slow count dammit!

Jeff: Looked fine to me.

[Angered, Hostile Man shoots to his feet and begins to shout at Jon Fuller. However, the Hardcore Champion points to his referee shirt and makes sure HM knows who is in control, before suddenly, JT comes from behind and takes Hostile Man by surprise with a Russian leg sweep! Boos rise up from the *** fans, as Thunder then begins to choke his opponent with his boot, before Fuller pats him on the back, pointing to a big-chested blonde sitting in the front row. Thunder tells him to go for it, as Mr. Jon-Tastic winks back, before hopping through the ropes and walking over to her...]

Tim: Now what the hell is this?

Jeff: Hey, can you blame the man? Fuller has some mighty fine good taste if you ask me!

[Fuller leans on the safety barrier and begins to chat with the women, despite the fact that she doesn’t seem at all interested, whilst meanwhile, Johnny Thunder takes the opportunity to also exit the ring and grab a steel chair! By now, the fans are booing viciously as JT slides back into the squared circle, where Hostile Man is just about upright once more. Thunder raises the chair into the air, looking to clean his opponent’s clock, but then Hostile Man suddenly lashes out with a stiff boot to the gut, causing JT to drop the chair! He then quickly hooks the Elite member by the head, before falling backwards and driving him head-first onto the steel with an even flow DDT!! The HWF’s resident Super Hero slides the chair out of the ring and calls out to Fuller, who is completely stunned to find Hostile Man making the pin!]

Tim: Go on then... Get in and count!

[Fuller looks around at the audience baying for his blood, before reluctantly sliding back inside the ring and hesitantly making the count...]



Jeff: Foot on the rope! Foot on the rope!

Tim: Because Fuller just put it there, the bastard!!

Jeff: Hey! Watch the language Timbo... That’s the number one contender for the World Title you’re talking about there!

[Fuller signals to the timekeeper the two count, as Hostile Man gets back to his feet looking extremely pissed off. He grabs Fuller by the shoulder and spins him around, before shouting in his face. Fuller tries to explain that JT’s foot was on the rope, but Hostile Man doesn’t listen, instead repeatedly shoving Mr. Jon-Tastic backwards until he is backed into a corner, begging for mercy. However, from out of no-where, Johnny Thunder rolls HM up from behind in a schoolboy, before reaching his legs out backwards and placing them on the ropes for extra leverage! Fuller, fully aware of this small fact, immediately drops down and starts to count...]




Tim: I don’t believe this... Now Fuller’s counting fast!

Jeff: First he counts to slow, then he counts to fast... I think you need to lower your standards and just accept Mr. Jon-Tastic for the bang-up job he’s doing.

[Both Thunder and Fuller look shocked, and waste little time in grabbing Hostile Man and dragging him back to his feet. They then proceed to pound away at the HWF’s resident Super Hero, before whipping him off the ropes and going for a double clothesline! However, Hostile Man somehow manages to duck the shot before jumping onto the second rope and springboarding backwards to take both Elite members down with a moonsault!]

Jeff: Hey!! He can’t do that to an official!!

[With the fans going crazy, Hostile Man waits for both men to get back up, scooping Fuller up onto his shoulders and then taking him down with a Death Valley Driver!! Mr. Jon-Tastic rolls out of the ring, just as Hostile Man turns his attention to Johnny Thunder, nailing him with a barrage of martial arts kicks and chops! JT falls back against the ropes, desperately trying to block the shots, before Hostile Man then whips him off them and takes him down with a Samoan Drop on the rebound!]

Tim: Hostile Man is somehow cleaning house!

Jeff: But that dumbass just took out the referee! What chance does he have of winning now?

[With Thunder down, Hostile Man then points towards the corner before beginning to scale it. The crowd are on their feet as he slowly stands upright, measuring JT up, before then launching himself into the ring and crushing Thunder with the Anger Management (Shooting Star Press)! He stays on top, hooking the leg, just as Chuck Bullard Jr. runs out from the back, sprinting down the ramp and then instantly making the count as he slides into the ring...]




Tim: I don’t believe it!! How did Thunder kick out?

Jeff: He’s an Elite member! What did you expect him to do?

[Unfazed, Hostile Man then gets back to his feet and signals to the crowd for the Total Hostility, whilst Thunder staggers back upright. He turns around, just as HM swings his boot towards JT’s head, only to have him duck the shot! Surprised, Hostile Man is then caught with a boot to the gut, before Thunder quickly hooks the HWF’s resident Super Hero up, looking for the ThunderKiss! However, before he can lift Hostile Man into the air, his opponent fights back with some elbow shots, breaking free of his grip. He then swings for a clothesline, only to have JT duck the shot, before then lunging back towards his opponent and nailing him with a Superkick!]

Tim: Good Lord, what a shot!

Jeff: C’mon Thunder... You can’t let this masked freak beat you!

[Hostile Man then drops down, but instead of making the cover, places Thunder in an Ankle Lock! Thunder screams out in agony, as he desperately tries reaching out and grabbing hold of the ropes, only to be dragged back into the ring... Chuck Bullard asks him if he wants to tap, when all of a sudden, he’s nailed with an elbow drop to the back of the head...]

Tim: What the hell? Fuller is back in the ring!

Jeff: Thank God!

[Hostile Man releases his hold and goes to confront Mr. Jon-Tastic, but is immediately greeted with a kick right between the legs! Boos arise, as Fuller then pulls HM in and quickly flips him into the air, before bringing him down with the J-Bomb! He stands over his arch nemesis, seething with rage, whilst Johnny Thunder crawls on top and makes the cover. Without hesitation, Fuller drops down and makes the count...]




Jeff: What the fuck?!?! He kicked out of the J-Bomb!

[The fans are going wild, as Thunder and Fuller stare at one another. Angrily, JT begins to put the boots to Hostile Man, whilst the Hardcore Champion jumps through the ropes and grabs the fallen chair from earlier on. He quickly slides back inside and begins to repeatedly crack the chair down against Hostile Man’s back! He then shouts at JT to drag him upright, and Thunder does just that, pinning HM’s arms behind his back as Fuller lifts the chair into the air and then brings it down hard against Hostile Man’s skull!]

Tim: Somebody needs to stop this carnage!


[Blood begins to seep through Hostile Man’s mask and drip onto the canvas, as Thunder then scoops his limp opponent up once again whilst Fuller positions the chair on the mat. JT then nails Hostile Man with the ThunderKiss straight onto the steel, before hooking the leg and making the cover. Fuller quickly drops down and makes the unnecessarily fast count...]








Jeff: What a well-deserved win!


Tim: Are you kidding? This wasn’t a match. It was a massacre. At least mercifully, it’s over now...


[‘Thunderkiss 65’ plays over the PA once again as Fuller raises JT’s arm into the air and helps him celebrate, all the while staring down at the near unconscious Hostile Man with pure hatred burning in his eyes. EMT’s come out to check on the Super Hero’s condition, whilst the two Elite members exit the ring and make their way up the ramp, ignoring the loud booing as he went...]

[Fade back to the back room where Anderson's private party is being held. There are some average joe office workers attending plus of course the Elite. Sitting on the couch is Cross, Anderson, and Jimmy Jett. Savahanna Moore is sitting on Anderson's lap wearing her usual sexy outfit. Johnny Thunder and Jon Fuller are behind them.  Scott Anderson and Jimmy Jett  begin to have a small conversation...]

Scott Anderson:  You know what Jimmy, I feel generous today on my birthday.  That's why I am going to give you a small gift...a North American Title shot for Holy Night Three against Dominic Pericolo in any type of match you want...plus...

[Scott Anderson pulls out an envelope out of his jacket pocket and hands it Jimmy Jett.]

Scott Anderson:  Here's that bonus I promised you last month when you were placed in that Main Event in Lost Cause, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars...that money taken from the remainder of Wildcats contract which I axed just this morning.

Jimmy Jett: I don't know what to say except,  I think it's time to bring in the CAKE..

Crowd in room: CAKE...CAKE...CAKE...CAKE

[The small crowd in the room makes a load roar. A few stage workers pull this large birthday cake in a small cart. They park the cake in front of the couch that Anderson, Cross, and Jett are sitting at. The lights dim just a little bit. Five...four...three...two...one...*TEAR*. Out of the cake pops VOID wearing nothing but a red bra and a red thong. But there is something unusual about Void this time around. Something with his chest. He's got BREAST IMPLANTS!!!! Void has a microphone at hand. He gets out of the cake and begins to swagger his hips as he begins to sing New Kids On The Block "Right Stuff".]

Void: First time was a great time. Second time was a blast. Third time I fell in love. Now I hope it lasts. I can see it in your walk. Tell 'em when you talk. See it in everything you do. Even in your thoughts

[Scott Anderson, Jimmy Jett, and Cross look at each other in disgust with what is transpiring.]

Scott Anderson: Void, what the FUCK are you doing here?

Jimmy Jett: Where's the gorgeous female stripper with the big breasts I hired?

Void: I replaced her, thinking that Scott, Cross and you James would appreciate a little lap dance from your Voidster.

[Void then takes a few steps forward and looks at Jimmy. He points a Jimmy and begins wiggling his hips.]

Void: You got the right stuff, baby. Love the way you turn me on. You got the right stuff, baby. You're the reason why I sing this song. All that I needed was you. Oh boy, you're so right. And all that I wanted was you. You made all my dreams come true.

[Void then walks over to Cross. Void turns around so his butt is facing Cross. Void bends over, showing his butt off to Cross. Then turns around to face Cross.]

Void: Your first kiss was a sweet kiss. Second kiss had a twist. Third and your fourth kiss. I don't want to miss. I can see it in your walk. Tell 'em when you talk. See it in everything you do. Even in your thoughts.

[Just as Void is about to walk over to Anderson, Anderson stands up on the couch and puts Savahanna in front of him. As Void continues to walk towards Anderson, Anderson walks backwards on the couch and trips over the back rest of the couch and falls over backwards with Savahanna on the floor. Meanwhile, Cross stands up and is about to leave the room in disgust. Just as he gets closer to the door, Void changes his tune and begins singing another song, a knock off of New Kids On The Block "Please Don't Go Girl", only its "Please don't go Cross".]

Void: Please don't go Cross..

[Cross turns around. You can spot the frown on his face as he is not pleased with what is going on in HIS company. Meanwhile, Void takes a few steps forward at Cross. His new "chest" bounces up and down. Void then gets to one knee in front of Cross.]

Void: You would ruin my whole world. Tell me you'll stay Never ever go way. I love you. I guess I always will. Cross, you're my best friend. Cross, you're my love within. I just want you to know that I will always love you.

[Cross has had enough. He grabs Void by the hair and pulls him up to his feet. Cross punches Void in the face with a hard right fist. Void staggers backwards. Cross walks up to Void and scoops him up. Cross then tosses Void at the wall like a dart. Meanwhile, Scott Anderson and Savahanna Moore are standing back up after he fell over the couch and she landed on top of him. Back to Cross, he bends over and grabs Void by the ear and pulls him up. Cross drags Void by the ear out of the room. Thunder, Fuller and Jett follow. Anderson gives his personal assistant, Savahanna Moore, a giant kiss in the lips and tells her he'll be back. Anderson leaves the room to go with the rest of the Elite.]

Tim: Where is the Elite going with Void?

Jeff: I don't know but all I can say is that Void will prolly end up in the morgue after this..

Tim: We'll be back.


[We open up to Newton’s screeching car coming to a halt behind StreeX’s pick up truck. Newton gets out and runs to the truck. Searching inside he finds nothing. He turns to face us and looks around at the surrounding area. He looks over to the church, a ten pin-bowling hall and finally he sets his eyes upon the local park. He walks over to the park and takes a look. We can hear tussling in the bushes as Newton walks in. He scans the area until he hears the car behind him starting up. Spinning around we can see StreeX taking off down the street.]


[Newton sprints back to the car and jumps in. He isn’t driving long before we see StreeX’s truck again. This time however it’s parked outside a Warehouse building. Newton stops and again searches the truck. With the same results.]

Tim: I can’t help but feel StreeX is toying with Newton.

Jeff: Pure entertainment watching this

Newton slowly enters the warehouse. StreeX can be seen on top of the high blocks.

Dynamite Newton: Nowhere for you to go now.

[Newton begins climbing up the other end of the block. On the other side StreeX is climbing down. When Dynamite gets to the top and stands up he see’s StreeX just leaving the warehouse.]

Dynamite Newton: Not A-FUCKING-GAIN.

Jeff: See, Pure entertainment.

Tim: It will be pure brutality when Newton gets his hands on him.

[We’re in the Violence Fetish locker room once more and we see an irate Spanky McKay pacing back and forth while Jaden Pierce sits calm on a bench, with both tag team titles in hand.]

Spanky McKay: I don’t agree with this at all. We’re bending to the will of management. It’s not the Elite, but how much better is Drake Pearson?

[Jaden gives a shrug.]

Spanky McKay: My point exactly. If we hand over those titles, our titles, then we’re just admitting that we can be played. That we’re bendable and all that crap. I want us to remain as that tag team who is in it for themselves, who is here to further only their objectives.

Jaden Pierce: But handing over the tag titles to Pearson will do that. It can be our birthday present to Scott Anderson. We’ll be furthering our objectives. We’ll have another reign as tag team champions under out belts. Think of how much that will piss of Anderson.

[Spanky nods slowly.]

Spanky McKay: I guess you’re right.

Jaden Pierce: Good. Now, let’s go out and announce our decision to the world.

[The shot fades out.]

[We cut to the backstage area of the arena. You could call it a locker room of sorts. But then again, it’s not really a locker room. Set up as more of an office, with a couch, a few chairs, a large desk and a television monitor, it seems to be a possible meeting area for The Elite or it’s board of directors.]

[Or not…]

[The door opens, and for the second time tonight, we see one of the newest members of the board of directors. But he certainly has no ties with The Elite. Jayson Chambers walks in, closing the door behind him and takes off his suit coat, placing it on the couch on the side wall. Walking behind the desk and taking a suit, he stretches his legs out, placing them on the desktop. His concentration is quickly switched as he looks down at a package sitting on his desk. Quickly grabbing the envelope labelled “CHAMBERS”, Jayson rips it open, revealing an unmarked video tape.]

Chambers: I always liked early Christmas presents…

[Chambers moves over to the monitor with a built-in VCR and pops the tape inside, turning the television on and pressing play. What he watches, not only surprises him, but is obviously very irritating. It’s a tape from the first-ever Wednesday Fallout program. The tape rolls…]

Pearson: Now I won't be out here for long, as I do have several pressing matters to attend to. But before I go, let me introduce to you one of the men you came here tonight to see, making his return to the HWF right here on Fallout, our NEW colour commentator... SEAN FUCKING STERLING!

[Cue the pyrotechnics. Cue the light effects. Cue an eruption of cheers. Led by the sound of "Nine Spiral" by Gackt, Sean Sterling emerges from backstage with that same old Devil's grin on his face. The flashing red lights only give glimpses of him as he climbs into the ring, looking to Drake Pearson and raising an eyebrow rather oddly. For a moment Sean stands still, as if sizing Pearson up... and then simply grins and shakes his head from side to side. Pearson stands back to watch the show as the music begins to made out, along with the lighting. The cheers, however, remain going strong. Sean seems to give that 'uncaring' aura off as he reaches for a microphone, lifting it to his lips slowly... the fans grow silent...]

Sean Sterling: Greetings and salutations, my dear fu-

[Chambers suddenly reaches out and shuts the TV off. The calm, happy look on his face has quickly disappeared. Now, he simply stares ahead, expressionless. He almost looks as if he’s seen a ghost. Sitting behind the desk, he shakes his head and runs his hands through his hair, seeming very troubled.]

Chambers: This isn’t going to be good…

[We fade out.]

Jeff: It looks like Mr. Chambers isn’t too pleased with the fact that his old buddy Sean Sterling is the lead man on Fallout nowadays.

Tim: Of course he isn’t. Think about it Jeff.

Jeff: What? You think it’s because Sean knocked up Jay’s old lady?

Tim: Fuck I hate you…

[Fade to ringside where Cross, continuing to pull on Void's ear, makes his way down the aisle. Not to far behind him are the rest of the Elite members. Void can be seen crying and begging for Cross to let his ear go. Though Void's pleas fall on deaf ears. Cross slides Void head first underneath the bottom rope and into the ring. Cross steps up onto the apron and ducks in between the middle and top rope to enter the ring. Cross walks to the corner closest to the timekeeper's table and asks for a microphone. Cross gets tossed one. Meanwhile the rest of the Elite members enter the ring except for Scott Anderson. He circles the ring and heads for the timekeeper's table and grabs the bell. Anderson slides into the ring head first with the bell. Anderson stands up and walks to the middle of the ring. He drops the bell in the middle of the ring. Cross looks at Void, who is cowering in a corner, and prepares to speak.]

Cross: Void, we seriously need to talk.

[Cross walks up to Void and then smacks him in the face. Cross then grabs Void by the hair with his free hand and pulls him up to his feet. Cross then uses his free hand to grab Void by his facial cheeks, he squeezes his hard and prepares to speak.]

Cross: What the HELL were you thinking of? Seriously, you've got shit for brains if you thought breast implants were for guys. And what the HELL were you thinking of by popping out of that stripper cake and singing those RIDICULOUS songs? You know I should kill you right now but I am in a good mood, so I'll tell you what I am going to do...I am going to give you this microphone and you are going to explain to me and the whole world why you are such a sick freak of nature and why we should spare your life.

[Cross lets go of Void's face and hands him the microphone. Void looks around as he prepares to speak.]

Void: Well...well...I did all this to prove to you guys that I am indeed COOL enough to be apart of the Elite..

[There is a slight chuckle from the Elite members. Cross grabs the microphone away from Void.]

Cross: You thought that by dressing up like a woman and getting BREAST IMPLANTS will get you into the Elite? What the fuck were you smoking kid?

[Then Cross gets an idea. A smile can be seen underneath his mask.]

Cross: You know what though. Since I am in such a good mood tonight, I'll tell you what I am going to do. I am going to exercise my power as CHIEF POLICY ENFORCER to make a match here tonight. If you win this match, Void, you'll be in the Elite...if not, consider yourself FIRED. So in one corner we have a man that is stranger than Michael Jackson in Void, and in the other corner you have...well THE ELITE..

[With that said, Void turns to his left to look at the other Elite members.*SMACK*.gets a superkick from Hardcore champion Jon Fuller. Void crashes down on the canvas like a falling tree. The rest of the Elite begins stomping on the helpless and defenseless Void. Jimmy Jett then grabs Void by the head to haul him up to his feet. Jett drags Void to the front of the bell. Jett kicks Void in the gut. Void bends over. Jett charges for the ropes and bounces off of them. Jett then charges at Void and nails his patented Sex Drive (Somersault Rocker Dropper) maneuver. Void's face crashes onto the bell, making a *ding* sound in the process.]

Jeff: Lights out for Void!

Tim: I really feel sorry for the guy, he -

Jeff: Guy? Void has bigger tits than your mom!

[But the Elite aren't done with Void yet. Johnny Thunder bends over and grabs the unconscious Void and hauls him up to his feet. Thunder is facing Void and is slightly to the left of his body. Thunder puts his head under Void's right arm so Void's arm is across Thunder's shoulders. Thunder pull's Void's left arm through his own legs and grabs it with the Void's right arm. Thunder reaches across Void's chest and hooks Void's head with his other arm. Thunder then lifts Void up and falls backwards, dropping Void on his head on the ring bell. Again the bell makes a ding sound as Void's head crashed onto it. Void isn't moving an inch. Johnny Thunder quickly stands up.]

Tim: I think the Elite have proved their point, is this really necessary still?

Jeff: Of course it is!

Tim: How can you justify that?

Jeff: Because they are Elite! Nothing they say or do has to be justified!

[Scott Anderson moves towards Void. He bends over to grab the battered Void by the head. He hauls Void up to his feet. The Suicide Program Supervisor puts Void into a standing headscissors. He hooks both of Void's arms and delivers his Path to Superstardom (Double Underhook Facebuster) finisher, smashing Void's head onto the ring bell. Once more Void's head crashing onto the bell causes the bell to make a small ding sound. Anderson stands up and looks down on the bloody and battered Void. He looks real proud at the injury he is causing to this odd personality.]

Tim: Oh come on now!

Jeff: Yeah, he's gonna get blood on our precious ring bell!

[Cross then moves in towards Void. Cross drops the microphone and bends over to grab Void by the head. He hauls Void up to his feet. The unofficial CEO of the Hardcore Wrestling Federation then applies a front face lock on Void and puts Void left arm across his massive shoulders. Cross then grabs Void tights and lifts him straight up in the air so that he is upside down. Cross then spins Void so he is chest first. Cross then kneels down right on the canvas, planting Void head on the ring bell. Void falls flat on his back and has his eyes closed. Cross smiles underneath his mask and then stands up. He puts one foot over one of Void's breasts, squashing it. Scott Anderson, acting as a referee now, gets into position and makes the cover.]




Jeff: See! Now you can never say that Cross doesn't fight in between PayPerViews.

Tim: That was about as much of a fight as your sister gave me last night!

Jeff: What the?

Tim: See, I can do it too....

["It's going down" by X-Ecutioners plays as Anderson stands up and moves next to Cross. All members of the Elite form a line facing the crowd and raise their arms up in the air. The crowd drowns this arena with boos, which is the usual reaction the Elite receive... Then suddenly their music is cut by “Elite” by the Deaftones blares out over the audience now, the slights turning to a painful red strobe light effect. At the top of the ramp appear two men, the Violence Fetish logo flashing across the screen above them, in sync with the strobe light. Violence Fetish stand firm, Spanky McKay and ‘Heavy Mettle’ Jaden Pierce, tag team title belts clamped firmly around their waists as their cold eyes graze the audience.]

Tim: And we’re being joined by Violence Fetish now.

Jeff: I hope they don’t do anything stupid here! Shawn Collins, that little traitor, was filling Pierce’s head with garbage earlier tonight.

[The duo of Violence Fetish begin to make their way down the ramp now as they look onto the ring, the Elite in the middle of it. They sprint now, diving in under the bottom rope. Jaden scales one ring post and Spanky another. Each undoes their tag team belt and holds it high into the air. The camera takes a close up shot of one of the belts and one can see a large “E” spray painted in black on the belt. Around it is a red circle, also spray painted, with a large red slash through it. A statement no doubt about the Elite!]

Jeff: And that? That’s just wrong!

Tim: It’s a bold statement and one that needs to be made, in my opinion.

[The music fades now as the lights return to normal. Both members of Violence Fetish are handed microphones from the ringside attendant.]

Jaden Pierce: Well, it’s been a rather interesting couple of weeks. But I’d have to say the most eventful night since our return, next to being named tag team champions one more time, had to be last week when Spanky and I had our little chat with Drake Pearson.

Spanky McKay: And Drakey, we’ve thought about your little proposal, and we’ve decided to—

[Scott Anderson gets passed the microphone and interrupts Spanky McKay...]

Scott Anderson: No, no, no! No! NO! You are NOT doing this. Not here, not now, not tonight. This is my birthday bash and no one else is going to ruin it for me!

Jaden Pierce: Oh really?

Scott Anderson: Yes, really. And let me tell you why. Because by handing over those tag team titles to Drake Pearson, you’re admitting you’re weak and easily molded to the shape of this new executive board here in the HWF. You’ll be showing the entire world just how inconsequential Violence Fetish really is.

Spanky McKay: Yeah, but in the mean time, we’ll be pissing you off. And that’s worth it.

[Spanky cracks a grin, Anderson frowns.]

Scott Anderson: If you do this, you’ll regret it.

Jaden Pierce: No, I don’t think so. And you know why? Because on Fallout, we’re going to give these title belts to Drake Pearson. That will mean we did actually win the belts on our big triumphant return when Spanky and I put you and Jimmy Joke in your places. Even more than that, we’ll be the ones to beat in that gauntlet match at Holy Night 3. All of this, I know, just pisses you off. Because you’re not having things your way… Oh, and just so everyone’s clear on this as well, I’ll be the one in the battle royal next week to determine Violence Fetish’s seeding in that gauntlet match.

Scott Anderson: You’re going to suffer for fucking with me, boys.

Spanky McKay: No, see Anderson, you don’t understand. This is the part where you SHUT THE HELL UP, and then our music plays really loud drowning out anything else you might have to say.

[And with that “Elite” by the Deftones blasts out as Anderson shouts vainly at the two men in the ring, each with a tag title belt slung over their shoulder.   Cross holds Anderson back, telling him they'll get what's coming to them later...]

Security Guard: And stay out!

[The camera fades in on the dimly lit parking lot. Sean Sterling and Shawn Collins are once again shown, laughing their asses off at this point.Walking along, the camera follows them.]

Sean Sterling: Well, that was fun.

Shawn Collins: Definitely. It's going to take a lot to outdo this night. I mean, look at all we've done! We got Void to jump out of a Stripper Cake...

Sean Sterling: ...you've spiked Scotty's Thermos with Buckley's cough syrup...

Shawn Collins: ...you pissed in his cake...

Sean Sterling: ...and to top it off, we got kicked out of the show. All in all, I'd say this mission was a success.

Shawn Collins: Hear, hear. So, now what?

Sean Sterling: Well, the night's young. I know a great strip club that serves nice alcohol and has so many tits hanging around that you can't take a step without getting poked in the eye by one.

Shawn Collins: Chauvinistic pig.

Sean Sterling: ...in other words, I'll see you there?

Shawn Collins: Of course.


[We open up again this time with Dynamite actually lifting the hood of StreeX’s truck. StreeX is nowhere to be seen. Newton rips at the wires before looking up at the shining sign above him. "Maxine’s" Maxine’s is a little bar. Newton smiles and heads in. He approaches the bar and a young looking brunette makes her way over. She is wearing the skimpiest of dresses and chewing gum as she grabs a glass from the rack above her.]

Brunette: Can I help you Hun?

Dynamite Newton: Yeah, gimme a beer.

Brunette: Large or small?

Dynamite Newton: Gimme a large.

[The woman serves Newton, Just, as he is about to take a drink he catches a glimpse from the mirror in front of him of StreeX sneaking past. Newton swings around. StreeX attempts to run but Newton is closely behind. StreeX makes it outside and into his car. But what’s happening? The truck won’t start. Newton swings open the door and drags StreeX out. He lifts him up by the throat and slams him up against the truck.]

Dynamite Newton: Finally I got you.

[People are flocking out from the bar as Newton throws a right hand at StreeX.]

Jeff: I don’t believe he caught him. This chase could have gone on all night.

Tim: Right now I feel sorry for StreeX.

[Two of the men from the bar, wearing balaclavas run around the side of the truck and grab Newton. Each man holding an arm. StreeX wipes the spot of blood from his lip and begins punching away at Newton. The two men then throw Newton up against the truck as StreeX rams his head hard. Newton is looking dazed as the three men stomp away on him. StreeX grabs a bit of wood and swings it at Newton. It misses and Newton starts to fight back. But not for long as the other two men each get a blow in. StreeX this time doesn’t miss with the wood. It connects perfectly with Newton’s upper eye. Blood is now spurting from the head of Newton as he is laid down on the road. The two men take off their balaclavas and reveal themselves as The Career Killaz]

Tim: I knew it,  god damn knew it

Jeff: What?

Tim: It was all a plan. StreeX didn’t want Newton to win his match tonight so he led him on a wild goose chase all over the city.

[StreeX crouches down to the floor]

StreeX: This week it’s my turn to lay you out bitch.

Tim: Yeah, with your two back up guys helping you. He just can’t do it alone. This is horrific and Newton is out of it

Jeff: Like I said, Pure Entertainment from STUPID NAME STREEX.

[StreeX and the Career Killaz climb into Newton’s stolen car and screech off, as Newton lies motionless.]

[We cut to the backstage area as Saturday Suicide comes to a close. Walking amongst the camera crew, writers and road agents, is Jayson Chambers. Obviously not in the best of moods tonight, Chambers looks stressed – that is, until he looks forward to see none other than Elite member and HWF executive… Scott Anderson. With a smile on his face, Chambers walks towards the exit of the arena, but pauses to look towards Scott and offer a few words.]

Chambers: Yo… Scotty…

[Anderson turns slowly, looking perturbed as he glances towards Jayson.]

Chambers: Happy 30th…

[Chambers smiles and pushes the door open, leaving Scott Anderson alone with his own thoughts… the old bugger that he is.]

Michael Trey vs. Jimmy Jett/Jon Fuller


Nigel Rolsten:  Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest scheduled for one fall is the HANDICAP MATCH….

[The arena grows black as 'Toxic' by Crazy Town picks up across the speakers. The 'X' Symbol flashes on the HWF-Tron. Red lights flash around the entrance as Jimmy stands facing the crowd, his legs bent straight and far apart and his arms held straight out, bent in at the elbows so that his fists rest in front of his shoulders. The crowd's jeers are drowned out temporarily with two shots of red pyro shooting out, forming a red X over the entrance. Jimmy steps forward out of the pose, dressed in red tights that run down to the thigh and break off in jagged lines with black the rest of the way down. He takes a step or two down the ramp, making fun of a fat geek in the crowd. Jimmy stops and spins around looking at the entrance again. A smirk crosses his face as he rolls his neck. The crowd begins to die down, when all of a sudden, the opening chords of 'Zero' by the Smashing Pumpkins kicks in. The audience collectively rises to their feet and begin booing, as Jon Fuller emerges from the entrance, with the Hardcore Title wrapped firmly around his waist! He pauses at the top of the stage and places his hands on hips as he looks out across the fans, lapping up their response. Jimmy laughs a little, enjoying Fuller standing there with an arrogant smirk on his face.]

Nigel Rolsten:  Coming down the aisle is the team of The X Symbol Jimmy Jett and HWF Hardcore Champion….JON FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULLLER!!!

[Jon then starts to strides down a step or two towards Jimmy, who holds out a fist. Fuller holds out one of his own, the two knocking them together to loud boos before heading toward the ring. Jimmy slides into the ring as Fuller pauses on the apron, looking out across the booing crowd, still smiling smugly, before then stepping through the ropes and into the ring, twirling around arrogantly!  Jimmy meanwhile heads toward a turnbuckle, climbing up and holding out his left hand as a motion for the crowd to stop. They do temporarily until Jimmy slaps his left hand underneath the thumb with his right, flipping the hand around and into a middle finger. The crowd erupts in boos loudly as meanwhile, Mr. Jon-Tastic runs and jumps up onto the opposite turnbuckle, lifting his arms into the air and taunting the crowd even more, before he eventually gets down and removes his Hardcore Title, handing it to the referee. The two high five and hug as the crowd break out a "FAGGOT" chant. Both men look visibly upset as Fuller begins tells some guy "you wish" and Jimmy yells at an old woman about how he "only fucks the finest bitches."]


  [Suddenly, the arena lights dim.]

#I know how to hurt
#I know how to heal
#I know what to show
#And what to conceal
#I know when to talk
#And I know when to touch
#No one ever died from wanting to much 

[BOOM! Pyros explode up the ramp, around the stage, up the HWF-Tron, until they reach the middle when a HUGE explosion goes off! The arena lights up in golden spotlights and lasers. Michael Trey steps out onto the ramp, raising his arms to the crowd.]

#People like us know how to survive
#There's no point in living if you can't feel the life
#We know when to kiss and we know when to kill
#If we can't have it all

#Then nobody will
#The world is not enough

Nigel Rolsten:  Making his way down the aisle…MICHAEL TRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEYYYYY!!!!

[Trey has made his way down to the ring by now, entering the ring and climbing up into a corner where he holds his left fist in the air to pump up the crowd some more. As the music fades, he drops to the mat and energetically paces about, ready and waiting to get the match started.]

Tim:  Michael Trey is ready folks…

Jeff:  Yeah, ready to get the beating of a lifetime.

[The referee calls for the bell…*DING*DING*DING*DING*DING*…Fuller leaves the ring and waits at his corner, perfectly content to let Jimmy Jett start this match off with Michael Trey.  Jett and Michael Trey start this baby off with the traditional collar and elbow lock.  Jett quickly turns that into a headlock on Trey.  Trey gets out of the headlock by walking to the nearest set of ropes and whipping Jett to the opposite side ropes.  Trey quickly heads to the middle of the ring waiting for Jett.  Jett bounces off the ropes and heads for Trey.  Trey leapfrogs over Jett.  Jett charges for the opposite side ropes.  Trey spins around and waits for Jett.  Jett bounces off the ropes and is nailed in the face by a spinning heel kick from Trey.  Jett goes down on the canvas on his back…]

Tim:  Jett goes down…

[Jett gets up fast, leaping off the middle rope for a springboard elbow to Trey's chest. He pulls Trey up while he's got him on the ropes, throwing him into a corner and nailing him with a series of punches. Right, left, left, left, right, finally pushing him up on the top turnbuckle. Jett gets up on the middle turnbuckle, grabbing Trey for a DDT. He leaps up... and nothing doing! Trey grabs his legs, driving him down to the mat instead with a hard spinebuster slam!  Trey goes for the cover on Jett, hooking the leg.  The referee gets into position and makes the count…]



[Jett kicks out.]

Tim:  Jett kicks out in the knick of time.

Jeff:  Anderson must not like what he is seeing so far

[Michael Trey gets to one knee and grabs Jimmy’s head.  Trey stands up and at the same time pull Jett back up to his feet.  Trey applies a side head chancery on Jett and runs to a neutral corner.  Trey slams Jett’s face with a bulldog.  Jon Fuller, sensing Jett is in trouble, ducks between the middle and top ropes and rushes into the ring to the corner Trey is at.  Trey stands back up but just as he does he is nailed from behind by a charging Fuller.  Trey falls forward, hitting his head on the second turnbuckle.  Fuller doesn’t waste any time.  He bends over and grabs Trey by the head and pulls him back up to his feet.  But Trey somehow someway manages to break the grip Fuller has on him and grabs Fuller by the head.  He spins Fuller around so Fuller is at the corner and Trey is facing him…] 

Tim:  Trey reverses…

[Michael Trey fires back with rights to Fuller, sending him back into the corner. Out of instinct and with eyes in the back of his head, Trey spins around and levels a charging Jett with a clothesline. Trey charges Fuller, hoisting him back into the ring with a monkey flip, landing on top and quickly firing off several strong rights to the downed Fuller. Trey pulls him back to his feet, hooking him for a suplex when he stops, looking back over his shoulder as Jimmy is on all fours, his arm wrapped tightly around Trey’s leg. This gives Fuller enough time to slip out of the hold and shove Trey backwards, tripping over Jimmy. Fuller quickly begins stomping Trey and Jimmy joins in.]

Jeff: Man, I haven’t seen that move since the third grade!

Tim: Ah come on, they’re just adding insult to injury.

[Fuller and Jett pull Trey back to his feet by his hair as Fuller hooks his head under Trey’s arm. Jimmy takes a step back and spins around, firing off a Jersey Hook as Fuller goes with the momentum and fires off with back suplex. Fuller rolls over and hooks Trey’s leg. The referee dives down as Jimmy counts along. 1…2…KICKOUT! Jimmy had already raised his third finger up and stopped, looking shocked that Trey kicked out. Fuller is up as well as the two begin berating the referee to count faster. The referee’s head wonders from one to the other, before Trey is up, catching both with low blows. The crowd cheers as both men drop. The referee doesn’t say anything, apparently never noticing between arguments from Fuller and Jett.]


[Trey grabs Fuller by the head to pull him up to his feet.  But in a move of total desperation, Fuller pulls the old rake in the eyes trick from his bag of cheating goodies.  Trey is blinded and walks backwards.  Fuller capitalizes by punching Trey in the face with a right.  Trey staggers backwards.  Fuller punches Trey in the face with another right.  Trey staggers backwards.  Fuller punches Trey again with another right.  Trey staggers backwards until he finally hits a corner.  Meanwhile, Jett rolls out onto the apron and begins walking back to his corner, resting.  Back to the action inside the ring, Fuller unleashes a chop on Trey’s chest…]  


[Fuller unleashes another chop on Trey’s chest…]


[Fuller unleashes a third chop on Trey’s chest…]


[Fuller grabs Trey by the left arm and drags him out of the corner.  Fuller whips Trey to the ropes.  Fuller moves to the middle and stands there waiting for Trey.  Fuller extends his right arm out.  Trey bounces off the ropes and ducks underneath Fuller’s right arm.  Trey charges for the opposite side ropes.  Fuller spins around.  Trey bounces off the ropes and as he approaches Fuller, Fuller catches him with a waistlock.  Fuller quickly flips Trey over in a overhead belly-to-belly suplex.  Fuller stands up and walks to his corner.  He tags in Jimmy Jett….]

Tim:  Fuller with the tag

[Jimmy Jett quickly ducks between the middle and top rope and rush into the ring.  Jimmy Jett unleashes a vicious barrage of stomps on Trey.  Jett then grabs Trey's left leg. Jett delivers an elbow right on Trey's left knee. Jett gets back up still holding onto Trey's leg. He delivers another smashing elbow onto Trey's left knee. But Jett gets up yet again still holding onto Trey's leg. He delivers another smashing elbow onto Trey's left knee. Jett gets up again still holding onto Trey's leg. Jett locks Trey's legs into a Figure Four Leg-lock. Trey is in pain here. Trey is screaming in pain. Jett is putting as much force as he can to make Trey submit. The referee is in position asking Trey if he submits. Trey shakes his head and screams no. Trey's shoulders then come down onto the canvas. The referee gets into position and counts...]



[Trey's shoulder gets up right on time. Jett still has the hold locked really tightly on Trey. Trey is still screaming in pain, looking at all directions to see if there is an escape. The referee asks Trey again if he submits but again Trey shakes his head and screams no. Trey's shoulders then come down onto the canvas. The referee gets into position and counts...]



[Trey's shoulders get up right on time. The fans are stomping their feet on the ground and clapping their hands to show their support for Trey. Trey is drawing on their strength and support to get him out of this jam. Trey then with all his might turns his body around to reverse the figure four leg lock. The tables have turned in this match again into Trey's favor. Jett is screaming in pain as his figure four leglock has been reversed and now he is in a jam. But Jett has a lot of strength in him and manages to grab onto the ropes to force Trey to break the hold. Trey breaks the hold.]

Tim:  Trey breaks the hold.

[Jon Fuller rushes into the ring once again.  But Trey is ready this time.  Trey punches the charging Fuller in the face.  This sends the Hardcore champion down on his back on the canvas.  Bringing him to his feet, Trey pulls Fuller up into a front chancery, nailing a beautiful snap suplex. Trey climbs to the second rope and leaps off with a leg drop, but Jon manages to roll out of the way. Trey winces, landing flat on his ass. Trey wastes no time getting to his feet. Fuller ducks a clothesline and kicks Trey in the side of the ribs, bringing him down with a swinging neckbreaker!]

Jeff:  Awesome by Fuller!!!

Tim:  And just like that, The Elite are in control of this match.

[The crowd begins to boo as both Fuller and Jett begin to pose.  After having some fun, both Fuller and Jett walk towards Trey.  Fuller bends over and grabs Trey by the head.  Fuller pulls Trey up to his feet.  Fuller lets go of Trey’s head.  Fuller grabs onto Trey’s right arm while Jett grabs onto Trey’s left arm.  The two of them whip Trey to the ropes.  Fuller and Jett link arms.  Trey bounces off the ropes and ducks the clothesline attempt by Fuller and Jett. Trey halts behind both men.  Both Fuller and Jett spin around to face Trey.  Trey dropkicks Jett in the face.  Jett staggers backwards.  Trey is back up to his feet.  Fuller charges at Trey.  Trey ducks a clothesline attempt by Fuller yet again.  Fuller spins around to face Trey and is nailed by a series of rights from Trey.  Fuller staggers backwards until he hits the ropes.  Trey punches Fuller in the face again with a right.  Then Trey wraps the ropes on Fuller’s arms so that he is trapped.]


[Meanwhile Jett charges at Trey, nailing him with a forearm to the head.  Trey falls on his back on the canvas.  Fuller is desperately trying to free himself.  Jimmy Jett takes notice and tries to render aid to Fuller.  But Jett turns his back on Trey and this gives Trey the opening he needs to get back on top of this match.  Trey crawls up behind Jett and nails him with a lowblow.  Fuller is still trapped and Jett falls to his knees thanks to the lowblow.  Trey slowly stands back up and grabs Jett by the head.  He pulls Jett back up to his feet.  Trey drags Jett to the middle of the ring where he shoves Jett’s head underneath his left arm.  Trey drives Trey’s head onto the canvas with a Flash of Pain (Double Arm DDT).  Trey turns Jett over so he is face up.  Trey stands back up and heads for a corner.  He climbs up to the top turnbuckle.  The lights in the arena go out, as only the camera flashes from the fans are able to capture Trey delivering Lights Out (Moonsault with Arena Blackout) on Jimmy Jett.  The arena lights turn back on.  Trey covers Jimmy Jett, hooking the leg.  The referee gets into position to make the count…]


Crowd:  ONE!!!

[Jon Fuller is desperately trying to free himself…]


Crowd: TWO!!!

[Fuller finally frees himself from the ropes…]


Crowd:  THREE!!

[Fuller pulls Trey off of Jett but is too late…*DING*DING*DING*DING…the crowd goes into a frenzy as Trey’s theme is played.]

Nigel Rolsten:  The winner of this contest…MICHAEL TRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYY!!!!!

[But Trey’s victory celebration is cut short when Fuller grabs the exhausted Trey by the head and pulls him up to his feet.  Fuller then puts his right hand around Trey’s throat and gives him a chokeslam down onto the canvas.  The fans cheers turn into boos.]


[The boos get even louder when the fans spot Suicide Program Supervisor and SENIOR Payroll Administrator Scott Anderson, HWF WORLD CHAMPION and CHIEF Policy Officer Cross and Johnny Thunder making their way down the aisle way.  They enter the ring and join the beat down on Michael Trey.  Soon Jett recovers from the Lights Out and is standing back up.  He also joins on the stomp-a-thon on Michael Trey.  Then after a few stomps they all stop.  Thunder and Fuller grab Trey by his left and right arm respectively and pull him up to his knees.  Cross pulls out his trusty microphone from his back and begins to talk…The crowd boos heavily.  Cross raises his right hand up in the air as if signaling to the crowd “please wait until after I talk to splash me with applause”…]

Cross:  You know what Trey, I am sick of you medalling in Elite business.  I am sick of seeing you Main Event on the flagship show when you certainly don’t deserve it.  But thanks to Anderson invoking Steve Sharps No Title Shot for Trey clause, you won’t be headlining the next exciting installment of Elite pay-per-views, Holy Night Three.  So what’s in store for Michael Trey at the pay-per-view?  Well, you are going to love this…you will get to wrestle someone just as washed up as YOU….its going to be Michael Trey versus CHRIS DAVISON…in the battle of the washed up has-beens…

[The crowd drowns the arena in boos.]

Cross:  I knew you people would approve…I just knew it.  You see I know what you people think and want even before you people know it.  I thought to myself, you people want to see two washed up untalented wrestlers who are past their prime fight and bang I gave you that.  You people should be on your hands and knees thanking me…

[The crowd once again drowns the arena in boos, all directed at the CHIEF policy officer, Cross.]

Cross:  Now Mister Anderson, I know its your birthday and I thought what a wonderful gift it would be if I gave you the first punch to Trey….

[Scott Anderson smiles and nods this head.  He pulls out the old brass knucks from his pants pocket and puts them on his right hand.  He looks at his hand and then nails Trey in the face with all his might.  Thunder and Fuller let go of Trey and he falls on the canvas face first.  All Elite members start laughing as we fade to the copyrights….]

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