______ __ __ | __ \.----.-----.---.-.| |--.-----.--.--.| |_ | __ <| _| -__| _ || <| _ | | || _| |______/|__| |_____|___._||__|__|_____|_____||____| LEGACY-Pro Arena >-< Unknown (the VTRs weren't rolling) [Through the opening sequence featuring "Roots" by Imagine Dragons we come hurtling into L-PRO Arena, all abuzz with a capacity crowd in the midst of a meltdown now. The excitement in the air has the fans on their feet, screaming and cheering now as camera shots from various points around the building stream by. A shot from the corner takes in the full view of the arena, while the background is full of the LEGACY Pro logo hanging on banners from the ceiling, large logos also adorning the aprons around the ring. The slate grey canvas of the ring is offset by black ringposts and white ropes, while the camera up on the jib arm skies overhead and shows off a view from above, all relayed back over the video wall by the entrance.] AM: Good evening ladies and gentlemen, welcome to L-PRO Breakout! We are back and ready to go tonight! [We have a small burst of pyro that explodes over the ring now as the frenzy of the crowd just increases, and a tracked camera shot brings us from the mouth of the aisleway up towards the entrance stage, off to the side which sits the announce position. Spotlights swirl all around, casting light in all directions as Amy Marshall and Sam Steeley sit behind a large black desk, monitors and iPads in front of them as they smile for the cameras.] AM: Welcome back to L-PRO Arena here in Toronto, Ontario! I'm Amy Marshall, with me as always is Sam Steeley and it'll be another great night of professional wrestling action as we head on towards the eventual crowning of L-PRO Tag Team Champions as well as the L-PRO Heavyweight Champion! SS: Yeah, or you know you could just recognize the greatest part of LEGACY Pro right now, the holder of the L-Crown himself, Pablo O'Connor. AM: Oh it'll be a cold day in hell before I do that, Sam. Appointing yourself a championship- SS: He's got a truckload of them. AM: -doesn't make you a real champion. Until L-PRO recognizes him as anything, I refuse to as well. Especially when he's yet to even have a sanctioned match here in the company! SS: Well lucky you, lucky me and this lucky audience because _tonight_ is the night it finally happens! Pablo, in the ring, against someone worthy of the challenge. AM: Yeah, I'm still skeptical until I see it happen. SS: Do you ever get tired of being so negative, Marshall? Where's your spirit? AM: I have plenty of spirit, just not for that waste of space. We _do_ have a great show though! We've got the semi-finals of the tag team tournament, with the HEAT taking on Max and Sal in what should be an absolute war between two teams who just can't stand one another. SS: It'll be an international incident! AM: The history between those four men goes back years, all the way to Phoenix, and needless to say there's been tension running through the back all day long because of it. Whoever wins tonight moves a step closer to becoming the first ever L-PRO Tag Team Champions. SS: They also move a step closer to getting pulverized by the Black Mass Forever. AM: Well that remains to be seen, although the BMFs are the one other team left in the tournament. They have the night off but you can bet they'll be watching. Meanwhile our main event is another qualifying match for the Iron Survival Championship match coming up in just two weeks, "Nighthawk" Michael Bonn squares off against Stan "The Man" Fox and one of them will be added to that huge match. We already know that Danny Holden and Angus Andrews will be a part of the match, with two spots left up for grabs. SS: Yeah and for my money, Danny Holden is the inevitable choice here. Nobody's got the talent inside the ring like he does, and more importantly, he knows it. The man is unbeatable. AM: Nobody's unbeatable all the time, Sam. Nobody. SS: We'll see. He's put down every challenge so far. AM: And in this business, the biggest challenge is usually the next one. I'm not saying he can't win, but it's no foregone conclusion either. [As "Fight Music" by D12 starts up over the PA system, the crowd begins to boo.] SS: Speaking of a foregone conclusion. AM: Let's take you down to the ring for tonight's opening contest, featuring the force of nature that is Amar'e Khalil. __ ____ ____ ____ L / / / __ \/ __ \/ __ \ P / / _____/ /_/ / /_/ / / / /-------------------------- R / /__/____/ ____/ _, _/ /_/ / LEGACY PRO BREAKOUT O /_____/ /_/ /_/ |_|\____/---------------------------- SINGLES MATCH: Amar'e Khalil versus El Ojo del Oro ----------------------------------------------------------- [Already in the ring is Khalil's opponent, El Ojo del Oro, no stranger to the monster now. The masked man paces back and forth, watching as Amar'e slowly and deliberately makes his way out from the locker rooms, paying little attention to the man in the ring.] BC: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a fifteen minute time limit! Already in the ring at this time... EL OJO DEL ORRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! And his opponent, from Lake Wales, Florida, weighing in at two hundred and ninety-eight pounds, accompanied to the ring by Andre Browne... AMAAAAAAAAAAAAAR'E KHAAAAAAALIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! [Amar'e flexes, shadow boxing as he walks slowly down the aisle, shutting out the jeers of the fans as his manager walks behind him, looking pleased as ever. Making it to ringside, the masked wrestler doesn't give him the chance to enter the ring and immediately dives out through the ropes at Khalil and catches him with a tope dive, knocking him back against the barricade! HUGE POP!] AM: WOW! Looks like El Ojo del Oro is trying something new tonight, going right after his opponent! SS: What an idiot! Why would you poke the bear like that? All you're going to do is make him mad! [The masked del Oro pops back to his feet, hearing the crowd's cheers for him. Except they aren't so much cheers, they're a warning that Amar'e Khalil is still on his feet too and now he's pissed. Grabbing him by the head, Khalil throws him right into the ringpost with frightening authority, sending El Ojo crashing into the ground.] SS: Is there anything more decisive than a knockout? Like a super knockout or something? Because I think we're about to see it. AM: Perhaps this wasn't the best strategy after all for El Ojo del Oro. [Ripping him off the floor, Khalil tosses his smaller opponent straight over his head with a belly to belly suplex, then goes after him again with some heavy knees into the ribs. El Ojo del Oro crawls to the barrier at ringside only to be met with more knees, these strikes bashing his skull right against the dasher boards and knocking him nice and loopy now. Peeling him off the ground again, Khalil delivers several backbreakers in a row, with ease tossing the man in the mask around and then up against the post again, practically breaking him in half. Sliding him under the bottom rope now, Khalil finally enters the ring and grabs the basically unconscious EOdE and deadlifts him into a german suplex as the bell finally rings to start the match. Getting back up again, Browne on the outside directs him to keep inflicting punishment, which he does with a heavy series of forearm smashes into the face.] AM: Okay, come on. This is ridiculous, get it over with and end the match already! SS: I guess Amar'e doesn't like to be upstaged. The world needs to learn this lesson. AM: So pin him! Don't try to end that man's career! [Hoisting him up once more, Khalil holds del Oro over his shoulder in a pendulum backbreaker, turns and runs straight into the corner pressing him into the turnbuckles upside down. The masked man doesn't even try to offer a defense as he slumps against the turnbuckles, hanging there. Sneering, Amar'e begins to lift him back up when he's caught with a 3/4ths headlock and del Oro suddenly flips backwards overhead, slamming Khalil into the mat with a shiranui! HUGE POP as he holds onto Khalil's leg for an improbable pin attempt!] AM: Oh my god, EN FUEGO! ONE! TWO! TH- UH OH. SS: When you take a shot at the king you best not miss. [Khalil powers out of the cover, brushing it off once again and now his eyes are full of nothing but rage. They get up at about the same time, but Khalil absolutely DEMOLISHES the smaller man with a lariat and puts him into the mat with tremendous force. All that's on his mind now is putting EOdO out of his misery now, and Khalil does exactly that with an extra vicious C5 Hurricane before hooking the leg and covering him.] AM: One... Two... And Three! Not that it was ever in doubt, but my god that was a beating. SS: Hey del Oro should be happy, I think he shaved a couple of minutes off his time. Pretty soon he'll be losing in mere seconds! AM: I daresay it may be a long time before we see El Ojo del Oro in the ring again. Amar'e Khalil continues to steamroll the competition here, and you have to think sooner or later he'll work himself into a top contender spot here in LEGACY Pro. BC: Here is your winner... AMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR'E KHALIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! [Khalil rises to one knee and then pops to his feet next to del Oro, sneering at him again as a jubilant Andre Browne slides into the ring and raises his arm in victory. A herd of referees enter the ring too, checking on the defeated competitor and keeping their eyes on Khalil, who leaves without incident. Very slowly del Oro comes to, and tries to limp his way out of the ring back to the locker rooms but needs the help of a couple of officials.] SS: You know, why not put Khalil into the title match? He's undefeated here, he'd be a monster and might even be the one guy who could give Danny Holden a real run for his money. AM: I'm sure L-PRO officials are considering all possibilities for that final spot in the match, Sam. We do know that tonight's main event will add a third man to the match, which leaves one more left. Is it going to be Amar'e Khalil added next? Who knows? SS: If it isn't, _you_ can tell him. AM: No thanks. But our next match coincidentally does feature the first man to qualify for Iron Survival, Angus Andrews is up next in action. __ ____ ____ ____ L / / / __ \/ __ \/ __ \ P / / _____/ /_/ / /_/ / / / /-------------------------- R / /__/____/ ____/ _, _/ /_/ / LEGACY PRO BREAKOUT O /_____/ /_/ /_/ |_|\____/---------------------------- SINGLES MATCH: Angus Andrews versus "Jammin" Jesse Roucka ----------------------------------------------------------- [Back to the ring now, where "Jammin" Jesse Roucka is waiting for his match to begin. Dressed in purple mid-knee length trunks, white boots and knee and elbow pads, he watches the entrance as the house lights flicker, dim, then wink out completely. Gonjasufi's "Ancestors" hits the loudspeakers and cues a small amount of cheers.] BC: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, already in the ring at this time... "JAMMIINNNNNNNNNN" JESSEEEE ROUUUUCKAAAAAAAAAAA! [Roucka lifts his arm as the modest pop from the crowd is heard, though mostly drowned out by the music.] BC: And his opponent! Making his way to the ring... hailing from Easton, Pennsylvania... weighing in at two hundred and fourteen pounds and standing at six feet, one inch... ANGUUUUUUSSSSSSSSS ANNNNNNDRRRREEEEEWSSSSSSSSSS! [The lights return as Angus Andrews walks through the curtains. The former legend of jisatsu is dressed in a white "School of Rufus Knox" t- shirt tightly hugging his torso, a pair of baggy black MMA shorts, and black wrestling boots. His buzzed hair is not close enough to disguise the salt and pepper sprinkled throughout and reveals the deep scars on his forehead. Angus intently makes his way down the aisle, barely noticing the smattering of cheers he's been denied the pleasure of hearing for a number of years. Once reaching the ring, Andrews rolls under the ropes and enters, choosing to stand in the corner rather than rest his head on the bottom turnbuckle like usual. Eyeing the ringside area, Angus stays excessively alert. He pats his shirt and begins scaling the ropes, taking in a feel for the ring, and soon climbs back down to stand in the middle of the ring facing Roucka.] AM: We haven't seen that much of Jesse Roucka here yet in L-PRO, but he's a talented young competitor and a former tag team partner of one Jamie Kidd. SS: You mean "The New Nightmare" Jamie Kidd. AM: Well he has had a change of heart lately, Jamie seems to be frustrated with his position here and that attitude change hasn't really done him any favors yet. From what I hear, Jesse Roucka and he had a huge argument last week backstage, and Kidd's vowed to prove who the talented one was in their tag team. SS: Kind of goes without saying, doesn't it? He's a _Kidd_, that's basically wrestling royalty right there. AM: Sam? I've never heard you say anything good about Alex Kidd before. SS: And I'm still not. Daniel Kidd is one of the greatest competitors I ever had the priviledge of watching inside a wrestling ring. He alone makes the gene pool in his family golden. AM: Well, you never disappoint me. And there's the bell! [Andrews and Roucka lock up as the match begins, and the smaller man, Roucka, tries to grab him with an armbar straight away. Andrews reverses it and delivers an elbow to the face before throwing him to the ropes, and takes Roucka down with a hiptoss. He doesn't stay down for long, Jesse rolling back up and blocking a kneelift with a catch and tripping Andrews, taking him down and rolling into a cover attempt that Angus easily escapes from. They both rise up again and this time a kneelift catches Roucka heavy, knocking the wind out of him and Andrews sets up for a powerbomb. Roucka sneaks out the back though and comes back with a running leg lariat that staggers the top contender, but fails to put him down. Jesse next tries to spring off the ropes with a twisting uppercut but instead is rudely plucked out of the air with a spear that draws a LOUD POP from the crowd. Angus gets to his feet first, easily, hitting a wheelbarrow suplex that deposits Roucka back onto his head again.] AM: You never really know which Angus Andrews you're going to get, he's able to come at you with straight brawling techniques but he can also incorporate some amazing aerial maneuvers just as easily. SS: Yeah and he can also crumble in to dust at any moment too. Truly a broken down old horse. AM: Stop it. [Roucka fights to his feet as Angus grabs him from behind, trying to pull him off the ropes. With a go-behind Roucka attempts a roll-up again, but now it's Andrews with a huge headbutt slowing the pace of the match again. An inverted atomic drop weakens Roucka further, allowing Andrews to capitalize with a slam to the mat in the corner and then he looks to go airborne. But before he can Roucka is again climbing back to his feet, striking Andrews and leaving him prone as he sits on the top rope, Jesse climbing up to join him and soon is standing on the top rope with a handful of Andrews' hair readying for a top rope rana. Angus fights to block it and rattles off several shots to the stomach, then knocks Roucka down to the canvas below. Slowly picking himself back up, Andrews turns to face out to the crowd and steadies himself on the top rope... ...and leaps off into an imploding 450 splash! "Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!"] AM: The crowd says it all, that was AMAZING! Angus Andrews can pull out some majestic things when he wants to! [The force of the splash knocks Roucka out, and has nearly the same effect on Angus who's slow to hook the leg on his opponent; he finally does so after a few seconds and scores the three count as the awestruck crowd pops loudly! "Ancestors" begins to play.] BC: Here is your winner... ANGUUUUUUUUSSSSSS ANDREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS! [Rolling off of Roucka, Andrews is slow to get up now. Reaching out for the ropes, he pulls himself up and continues to hang on.] AM: Another victory here for Angus, momentum going into the Iron Survival match is huge! You'd have to think it'll do a lot for him mentally, to believe he'll walk out as the first ever L-PRO Champion. SS: Yeah, well Danny Holden can tie him up like a pretzel and make sure he doesn't walk out at all. And once Stan Fox qualifies later tonight, he'll break Andrews in half outright. AM: That remains to be seen, Fox has a tall order himself in the main event. That's still to come, for now we have the last semi-final match in the tag team title tournament on the horizon with two teams who simply can't stand each other. Like I said earlier, there's been tension backstage all day long, and now we're going to show you exactly why. [The camera fades in to see Max Weinrib and Paco Magnon trading forearm shots right in front of the camera. The camera pans out to show they are in a locker room backstage area, and Max whips Paco into a locker room. Max charges, but is caught by a clothesline from Qaim Abd al-Najem, who charges in from the left side of the room. Qaim stands over Max triumphantly- and is caught by a superkick from Salih Mubarak, also from the left side. Sal starts to help Max up, but Paco tackles him into a pair of lockers. As Sal falls into mid-air, the screen freezes... ] Max VO: Let's explain how we got here... [The camera starts rewinding... and speeding up... and turning into a blur... and when it finally becomes recognizable again, it's old footage of Phoenix Valley Wrestling, with Magnon and Maxime Jean-Baptiste standing in the ring, along with Arvelle "MAGIC" LaFayette and Miss Florine Walker-Davies.] Sal VO: You see, the HEAT came into Phoenix, where we were wrestling. And we asked for a match. But instead, they wanted their "HEAT Invitational Tournament" Max VO: And we weren't invited. Sal VO: So we sort of... crashed the tournament. [Cut to two masked anime characters upsetting the HEAT, then revealing themselves as Max and Sal.] Max VO: And won the tournament... and the trophy. It was a nice trophy... Sal VO: The Key word being "was" [Cut to footage of the HEAT smashing the trophy over Max's head.] Max VO: We decided to take the high road... [Cut to footage of Max and Sal stomping on a cardboard cut out of Arvelle in a vat of grapes.] Sal VO: ...and channel our energies in more constructive pursuits. [Cut now to Max and Sal unveiling the repaired HIT trophy as a geranium holder, then attacking the HEAT. An incensed Arvelle's head is covered in dirt and flowers.] Max VO: We finally had the big showdown. Sal VO: I forget who won the match... [Cut to the referee raising the arms of Magnon and Baptiste while Arvelle is crowing.] Max VO: Didn't they win th... Sal VO: WE FORGOT who won the match. Max VO: We can always look it up in the archives... [More video of the HEAT bragging about their victory.] Sal VO: Lost in time- but that's all right. We were soon distracted with other duties. [Cut to Max and Sal winning the tag team titles from the Livestock and the Gutch in a cage match.] Max VO: And the HEAT... [Cut to an image of Magnon, Baptiste, and Arvelle. The image becomes a still.] Max VO: They had a makeover. One guy got replaced... [The image of Jean Maxime-Baptiste is torn out from the still, and an image of Qiam Abd al-Najem is photoshopped over the place that Baptiste was standing.] Sal VO: While Francisco Diego Pablo John Jacob Jingle HeimerSchmitz Magnon decided to go by 'Paco' instead. [The camera fades in to see Max Weinrib and Paco Magnon trading forearm shots right in front of the camera. The camera pans out to show they are in a locker room backstage area, and Max whips Paco into a locker room. Max charges, but is caught by a clothesline from Qaim Abd al-Najem, who charges in from the left side of the room. Qaim stands over Max triumphantly- and is caught by a superkick from Salih Mubarak, also from the left side. Sal starts to help Max up, but Paco tackles him into a pair of lockers. As Sal falls into mid-air, the shot pans towards the screaming face of one Arvelle "MAGIC" LaFayette as the screen freezes...] Arvelle VO: As my gran daddy once told me of folks you don't trust: don't piss on my leg and tell me it's raining. You want the truth of the unwarranted aggression The HEAT has endured from those no good carpetbagging Max & Sal? Well, I do believe it is time for the unvarnished truth to be told. PACO VO: Max tried to touch me in a bad place. Arvelle VO: Wait... what? NAJEM VO: Such ruffians. Beasts! Ugly, hideous, troll dogs! PACO VO: *fake sobs* Arvelle VO: Will you two let me talk? PACO VO: Ar... Arvelle VO: May I talk? Najem VO: You... Arvelle: Can I talk? PACO VO: *noise* Arvelle VO: Lemme talk. *muffled silence* Arvelle: If I may be as so bold to speak... [...a starwipe and wavy lines come across the screen as we're transported to some old footage from a wrestling company that once lived in Phoenix, Arizona. PACO, a crudely video edited head of Najem on Maxime Jean- Baptiste's body, Arvelle and good ole Miss Florine Walker-Davies stand in the middle of a ring with a giant trophy and a sign reading HEAT Invitational Tournament.] Arvelle VO: Back in ole Air-E-zoh'nuh, The HEAT wanted to help promote wrasslin' and give the little people a chance to see the GREATEST tag teams in action. [An image of two guys in anime character masks winning against the HEAT morphs into a photo of Max & Sal's reveal.] Arvelle VO: But some jealous, untalented, impatient, smelly, dirty, cheating little trolls had to go and rin it all. They cheated and stole the tournament from its rightful winners. [Here's Max, getting clobbered by a trophy.] Arvelle VO: But life has a funny way of balancing out the bad with the good. [Max & Sal are now displayed with the ruined HIT Trophy, most of the rest of the footage is fuzzy and doesn't show anything until The HEAT are shown raising their arms after a "clean" win over Max & Sal.] Arvelle VO: Scores are settled, debts paid, justice served like a hot plate of grits from your momma - all delicious and piping hot. That is, until the rats done learn to swim. [Livestock & The Gutch are now visable after their "contreversial" loss to Max & Sal. Arvelle is shown watching this from the back and almost vomitting as Miss Florine pats him on the back.] Arvelle VO: Instead of resting on our laurels, we got sleeker. Fitter, betterr looking, paid less. Najem VO: Wait, what? Arvelle VO: NEXT SCENE! [A new press photo for the HEAT (minus Florine and Maxime but adding Qiam Abd-al Najem) appears on the TV.] Arvelle VO: And then, just as things were getting ready to burst. Just as Max and Sal were about to be put back in their place... [A montage set to the training montage music from Rocky IV (aptly named "Training Montage" begins to play as a different video begins. We see PACO trying to catch a chicken as Najem attempts to not look away from a set of sweat pants labeled "Max's formal attire". Cut to: an old video of a factory with 'shopped titles: "Evil robot factory" and Max & Sals being made on assembly lines. Footage or Arvelle yelling into a microphone as PACO drags along a sled with cement blocks on it... that Najem has set up a beach chair and is sunning himself on. "Max and Sal" shown as T-1000s crushin the human resisance. Arvelle, PACO and Najem holding up an American flag and combing their strength to tear down a statue that looks like Josef Stalin with the heads of Max & Sal pasted on the sides.] Arvelle VO: And just as we close in on the promised land... [Spinning newspaper: "Phoenix Valley Wrestling shuts down; blame on terrible tag team that rhymes with Sax and Pal tanking ratings"] Arvelle VO: ...the whole darn thing blows up. Well, now, we got us a chance to set things right an we are gonna take it! [Cut back to the frozen frame of Magnon tackling Sal... and the camera starts up again as Sal dents two locker doors from the impact. Magnon and al-Najem start kicking Sal, and Max grabs al-Najem and headbutts him twice. Magnon kicks Max in the stomach to double him over, and several L-PRO officials swarm in to separate the four wrestlers. Max and Sal and Paco and Qaim are yelling at each other, but they can’t be heard over Arvelle “MAGIC” LaFayette’s voice as he taunts Max and Sal. Max nearly breaks free from the three officials holding him back to reach out to throttle Arvelle, but Lafayette dances back, and the officials slowly push the two tag teams into different rooms as the camera fades.] __ ____ ____ ____ L / / / __ \/ __ \/ __ \ P / / _____/ /_/ / /_/ / / / /-------------------------- R / /__/____/ ____/ _, _/ /_/ / LEGACY PRO BREAKOUT O /_____/ /_/ /_/ |_|\____/---------------------------- TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT[SEMI-FINALS]: The HEAT versus Max & Sal ----------------------------------------------------------- [And magically we return to a live shot in the ring, where both teams are already out in front of the crowd now, and glaring across the ring from one another. Loud chants of "Let Them Fight! Let Them Fight!" ring out, with the referee standing uneasily in between them.] AM: As you can see it's just gotten more wild out here between these four men! They couldn't even wait to make proper entrances here tonight, there's so much bad blood between one another the HEAT and Max and Sal are about to explode all over again! SS: Yes, yes! Let them fight, and let's see who the real men are here! [Tempers are on the verge of boiling over now when a new voice enters the fray. One unexpected, but that instantly draws a loud chorus of boos when it's heard.] BS: Now wait just a minute. AM: What the? [Mic in hand, wearing a black-and-yellow tracksuit vaguely reminiscent of a bumblebee, Billy Slice rushes through the curtain and down the aisle.] BS: Before you start this match you will hear what Billy Slice, the Crown Prince of Vice, has to say about it. AM: You have got to be kidding me, what's HE doing here? SS: Doing his damn job, Marshall! [With all eyes turned to him there are some shrugs and raised eyebrows all around but nobody stops the manager of Black Mass Forever as he slides into the ring.] BS: Now, all week long I have heard how this much is so "hotly anticipated". Oooh, Max & Sal, so happy that they are here. Oooh, the HEAT, remember what they did back there? [He starts to count along with his fingers.] BS: Remember their awards, their magazine front pages, their 5 star matches, their titles? Remember the rivalry they had? [Billy looks at the outstretched fingers on his hand, the clenches a fist.] BS: Yeah, dude, I remember, and you know what, if this was some kind of History Channel documentary, I would give a flip. [He points at this mat.] BS: But this is L-PRO, today, and it belongs to the Black Mass ... Forever. [He grins that broad, ugly grin of his and nods his head frenetically as he speaks even more quickly.] BS: None of you have the strength, speed or strikes that we bring to the ring, the killer instinct and the plain, raw thirst for blood. The thought that either of these teams faces us is such a disappointment it makes me want to vomit. [He turns to the referee.] BS: So how about Joey Stripes rings the bell, you all step out of the ring, we have us a niiiiice double count-out and you spare yourselves all of the misery and pain that would be waiting for you down the line. For ones in your lives, don't be smartasses ... be smart. [Again, the grin and the nod as he eagerly spins in a circle, looking at the HEAT and Max & Sal. His glee turns to terror when all four match participants do not leave the ring ... but advance on him.] BS: Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa ... [The brazen manager puts his hands up as the inevitability dawns on him, and with the thud of the microphone hitting the mat he's imposed upon by each of the four men, one at a time with standing punches right to the face. Each one of them rattles Billy, who to his credit doesn't go down immediately, but stumbles around right into each fist before being floored by the fourth in a row, courtesy of Salih Mubarak. For probably the first and only time it's bound to happen, both teams are working together and it's all to shut up the Crown Prince. And the crowd roars with delight!] SS: HEY! That's not fair, get your hands off him! The man was just speaking the truth! AM: He wouldn't know the truth if it bit him in the ass! But who'd ever have thought you'd see Max, Sal and the HEAT working together? [From the outside, it's Arvelle directing traffic improbably as Max and PACO lift Slice back up and dust him off, only to belt him a few more times and soon Billy is caught in an airplane spin, dizzied by it and as soon as Max lets go PACO latches on with a sleeper hold! POP!] SS: This is not fair at all! Someone get out there and break this up! AM: Hey he wanted to step up and be a big man without his team here tonight, can you blame them for wanting to shut him up? [As quickly as the sleeper is applied PACO lets go, and treats Billy to an eye poke. Flailing about, half-blind he stumbles into the Kiss that Don't Miss by al-Najem that staggers him almost completely... And for a rousing finale it's Sal who plants him with an atomic drop. HUGE POP!] AM: Chalk this up to something you never for a minute thought you'd see before, I don't believe it! Bye Billy, don't let the door hit you on the way out! [Thoroughly abused now, the BMF manager rolls out of the ring amidst a sea of taunts from the crowd and stumbles his way up the aisle to the back. Sore and embarassed, he nearly falls a few more times as Max and Sal grin as they watch him depart, going so far as to wave. Which is the perfect time for PACO and Najem to reignite their war and jump the fan favorites from behind.] AM: Oh dammit! SS: Haha! Now THAT'S beautiful! I may not agree with the abuse they gave poor Billy, but this is absolutely glorious! [The crowd has turned on a dime now, booing the HEAT with extreme prejudice as al-Najem lands a diving knee drop onto Max Weinrib to keep him from getting right back up. Sal is slightly more fortunate, absorbing a rushing charge into the corner and tries to fight back against the attack. Ducking a forearm smash, Sal comes back with a superkick to the jaw that puts PACO down, but not for long as he grabs Sal by the legs and pulls him down to the mat where both begin to exchange a flurry of punches and shots. The referee struggles to maintain order, trying to pull them apart while at the same time Najem's attempts to keep Max down finally fail, the fan favorite making it to his knees and blasting his foe in the stomach with his head, then pushing him off and bouncing up to his feet to deliver a couple of forearms.] AM: This situation is escalating, that referee needs to get them separated so this match actually get underway properly! SS: Don't fight the hatred, just embrace it. And there's plenty of hate to go around! [Sal manages to shove PACO off and scrambles to his feet, but El Machismo Magnifico Y Guapo is almost as fast and they're locked up again against the ropes with the villain blitzing Sal with a few trapped knees. Mubarak responds by straight up dumping him over his head to the outside ring apron though, and lashing out with a necksnap on the top rope that brings PACO to his knees on the outside. Dragging him back through the ropes, Arvelle Lafayette grabs Sal by the leg from the floor, thwarting further plans.] SS: Now that's MAGIC! AM: Get him out of there! This still hasn't started officially, but these four guys are all over one another! [The official keeps trying in vain to get order restored, but finally gives up and signals for the bell. It rings out, not that it stops the brawl from continuing. Again and again it sounds, and now a stream of referees and suited officials from the back come pouring out from the locker rooms. Sal manages to shrug Arvelle off his leg finally, but in the process his attention is taken off of Magnon and...] AM: A PUTA MAKER ON SAL! BUT DOWN GOES NAJEM TOO, COURTESY OF THE MESHUGGANAH 2.0! And now we've got a swarm of officials in there finally able to break things up now! ["LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT!" The stripes and suits manage to finally pry the teams apart now, as the bell sounds loudly again over and over. PACO is able to slip through the ropes to the floor in the confusion and pulls his dazed partner out as well, leaving Max beside a downed Sal inside the ring. The crowd begins to boo for the abrupt ending to the fight as Arvelle keeps stoking the fire, loudly threatening Max and Sal on behalf of his team. The announcement makes it official, not that it makes anyone happy.] BC: Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has DISQUALIFIED both teams! Therefore this contest is A DRAWWWWWWWW! AM: Are you kidding me?!? SS: Well that's awesome, but what the hell does that mean for the tournament? Does this mean that Black Mass Forever just gets the gold? There's nobody else left! AM: I can't imagine that's going to happen Sam, but honestly I don't know what's going to happen now. With a double disqualification that throws the tournament into even more chaos than before! [As the HEAT back up the aisle, officials keeping their positions between both teams so that tempers don't flare up again, back in the ring it's Max helping Sal back to his feet and soon their music is playing over the PA system, "Here We Go Again" generating a loud pop from the crowd! Disappointment is on their faces as well as determination, their issues with the HEAT far from over. Slowly they begin to leave the ring too, order slowly restored as we cut back to the announce position.] SS: It just goes to show, you can't trust foreigners. AM: SAM! SS: What? It's clearly the fault of those two dolts Max and Sal, they brought all of this on and ruined what could have been a great match! Now instead of seeing two badass teams like the BMF and the HEAT going at it over the championship we've got nothing. Nothing! AM: I'd say you have rose colored glasses, but no you're just an idiot. If we do get any word as to what's going to happen with the tag team championship we'll be sure to pass it along ladies and gentlemen, but for now all we can do is keep moving foreward. [The lights go down and Cherry Cola bottles appear on the stage screen, spinning around when suddenly... *BOOM*] AM: Aw [MEEP]. [They explode and as the lights come up Midnight Gypsies' hard rocking cover of "Girl From Ipanema" comes over the PA and out walks a familiar trio. In the lead is a caucasian woman with brown hair and a cherry colored dress suit with a pink blouse underneath. She has a MBC Olympics Gold medal around her neck and the Cherry Cola World Heavyweight Championship belt around her waist as well as a large expensive looking cherry colored purse. Behind her follows a caucasian man with short spiky brown hair wearing a hooded black boxing robe with red and gold trim and carrying the UWF Rampage and UWF Meltdown championship belts in one arm and the UWF Unified TV and International Fighting championship belts in the other arm. Behind him is a massive wall of a man dressed in a charcoal colored suit with a white shirt, dark gray tie and cherry colored sunglasses.] SS: And here comes the MAN! __ ____ ____ ____ L / / / __ \/ __ \/ __ \ P / / _____/ /_/ / /_/ / / / /-------------------------- R / /__/____/ ____/ _, _/ /_/ / LEGACY PRO BREAKOUT O /_____/ /_/ /_/ |_|\____/---------------------------- SINGLES MATCH: "Up All Night" Pablo O'Connor versus ??? ----------------------------------------------------------- BC: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, making his way down to the ring at this time and accompanied by Stephanie Delacroix and Kobus deVries, he is the holder of the L-Crown... "UP ALL NIGHT PABLOOOOOOOOOOOOO O'COOONNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRR! [O'Connor and Delacroix have nervous expressions on their faces as they make their way to ringside. KdV climbs up on the apron and holds the ropes open allowing the duo to climb inside the ring. Stephanie undoes Pablo's ring robe sash to reveal the PVW World Heavyweight Championship belt around his waist! They share a quick kiss then go to a corner with continued nervous expressions on their faces.] AM: What, did they pay off Chapman to announce him as the L-Crown holder or something? That thing isn't officially recognized here! SS: You know what is recognized? Talent, and the man has it in spades! AM: Yeah well the man sure seems nervous tonight. Are we actually going to get a decent opponent to face him? SS: Of course! He's a fighting champion after all. AM: Except for the champion part. And the fighting. [The crowd is waiting with bated breath to see who'll be taking on Pablo tonight, and their wait isn't long as "Finesse" by Bruno Mars comes over the PA system. Continuing to murmur as the 90's r&b sounding music swells, the ring announcer makes the reveal.] BC: And his opponent! From Wilmington, Delaware... STEEEEEEEPHEEEEEEEENNNNNN EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDGE! AM: Are you kidding me? [The crowd is less than pleased by the reveal as Stephen Edge emerges from the back, dressed in basic black wrestling tights and matching boots and pads. He's about as vanilla as you can get, although he's excited by the prospect of getting a high profile match.] SS: Oh my god, what have you done Pablo? Not him! AM: Oh give me a break! We've seen Stephen Edge before but he's hardly climbing up the ranks here in L-PRO. We've been had again, once again this is just a sham to boost O'Connor's ego! [Waiting in the ring, POC and Stephanie continue to watch as Edge makes his way to the ring, eyes wide with something resembling terror now as DeVries stands impassively outside the ring. Edge slips under the bottom rope into the ring and rolls to his feet, and Pablo backs up a couple of feet in mock fear.] AM: Sigh. I wish he'd at least take off the PVW championship belt before he makes a complete ass out of himself. [After shedding his robe and the gold belts, Pablo marches to the middle of the ring for the start of the match. Edge goes to lock up with him, but POC backpedals, hiding behind the referee at first. When the official turns for a moment a poke in the eye leads right into a headlock, and almost immediately it's the master of the L-Crown in control with some simple maneuvers. A textbook go-behind allows him to take Edge to the mat, rolling his shoulders to the mat for the first two count of the night. As soon as he breaks it, Pablo rolls to the corner where Stephanie dabs at his forehead with a towel. The crowd is not happy, to put it mildly.] SS: That's it, conserve your strength! AM: I hate you so much right now. [O'Connor goes back to a headlock as he sidesteps a charging Stephen Edge, and traps him against the ropes to drag his face along the strand, well concealed from the official. As Edge stumbles around, a kneelift knocks the wind out of him and Pablo hooks him with an abdominal stretch now. As the referee checks on Edge's condition, Pablo reaches out and takes hold of the rope for extra leverage, drawing LOUD boos from the crowd again... which only get louder as he lets go of the rope and takes Stephanie's hand instead. Letting go just before the referee notices, he breaks the hold with a shot to the ribcage instead, and another kneelift sets up for a measured shot to the temple on his opponent. As Stephen goes down, O'Connor twists Edge's leg with a toe hold.] AM: Come on, he's using the damn knee brace! [Indeed, POC manages to scrape the metal knee brace against Edge's leg, causing him to be in a lot of pain and quickly scrambles for the ropes. O'Connor breaks the hold and rolls out of the ring and goes to his wife, Delacroix, and acts like he's having a rough battle in there. She towels his head and gives him a pep talk telling him to do it for the Legacy Crown!] SS: What a woman. We should all be so lucky to have someone as loyal as Stephanie Delacroix. [Pablo returns to the ring just breaking the ten count in time, waiting for his opponent to roll onto his hands and knees before dropping a knee right across the back of his head, brace-first. The result flattens Edge, and he delivers two more in succession that leaves Edge clutching his neck as he rolls around in serious pain. Like a cat toying with a mouse, O'Connor rolls into a sitting position on the mat, still showing mock fear in his eyes over Edge. Slowly he rolls back to his feet and grabs him by the head, cranking on the neck with a chancery hold while in complete control of the match now. Pablo hooks him for a suplex and smirks, dragging Edge over to the side of the ring where Stephanie is there again to dab his forehead with a towel first. He hoists Edge up into the air for a vertical suplex, but for the first time in the match it's the Delaware native who fights back with a knee into the head of POC and gets free, landing behind him and immediately nails a dropkick that sends O'Connor sailing over the top rope to the floor! HUGE POP!] SS: WHAT THE HELL? AM: Yes! That's what I want to see, take him down a peg or two! [A loud cheer rises from the crowd as Stephen Edge returns to his feet, fighting off the pain shooting through his body as on the floor now Pablo is again giving the wide eyes. Except this time it's all real, shock over being thwarted by his hand-picked opponent. He tries to duck back into the ring but takes a knee into the head as Edge holds his ground, not letting him back in without a fight. Another stomp frustrates O'Connor, the sham of a match suddenly halted for a moment.] AM: I take it back, I kind of love this! SS: Shut up, Marshall, this isn't funny! [When in doubt, Pablo resorts to outsmarting Edge as he fakes another attempt to get back in the ring and Stephen goes to stop him again, but instead gets himself tripped up by the L-Crown holder, and his leg smashed against the ring apron. Now Pablo slips back into the ring and fires off a series of straight punches to the head before getting back to his feet and yanking Stephen rudely off the mat by the head once more. Edge tries fighting back, but gets cut off with a sharp kneelift with his knee brace again and then held with a double underhook. Showing some actual power, Edge manages to stand up straight as POC goes for a ride upside down, but at this point Stephanie begins to climb up onto the ring apron causing a distraction on Edge. As Pablo escapes and lands on his feet, she takes off the MBC gold medal she's been wearing and tosses it into the ring. As the referee notices her and orders her to get down, O'Connor scoops up the medal and waits for Edge to come back after him again, JABBING him in the eye with it! HEEL POP!] SS: Third eye blind! Hah! AM: That son of a bitch, why did he have to do that?!? [That smirk back on his face as he tosses the medal out of the ring to DeVries, Pablo sizes up his opponent once more. The official gets Stephanie to climb back down to the floor now, while howling in pain as he clutches his eye Edge falls victim to O'Connor via the Dangerous Hip Toss. He's spiked into the mat right on his head, and Pablo then goes to a corner and with a crazed smile waits for Edge to struggle to his knees, in bad shape. Taking his time, Pablo rushes forward and BLASTS him with the Cherry Cola Smash for the academic three count, making sure to hook not one but both legs in the process. "Girl From Ipanema" starts playing as the crowd is on the verge of mutiny.] BC: Here is your winner... PAAAAAAABLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOO'CONNNNNNNNNNOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRR! AM: Just pathetic, once again here. You know what the real sad thing is? If I'm being objective, O'Connor isn't a terrible wrestler. He doesn't have to keep taking shortcuts like this, he does it because he wants to! SS: You, objective? [Pablo and Stephanie celebrate in the ring, making out in graphic fashion while surrounded by the haul of belts around them and the crowd is showing no mercy at all. Shower after shower of boos rains down on them as outside the ring, Kobus holds back a fan who tries to get over the barricade... And is unaware as from the other side a different figure jumps the barrier and dives into the ring headfirst. HUGE POP!!!!!] AM: WAIT A MINUTE, THAT'S BRETT YOUNG! BRETT YOUNG IS HERE IN L-PRO ARENA! [Oh it's absolutely true, wrestling veteran and longtime enemy of Pablo "Fantasy" Brett Young slides into the ring and tackles Pablo and begins raining punches down on him! The crowd is beside itself as Stephanie shrieks, while on the outside KdV finally notices whats happening and tosses the fan aside! He reaches into the ring and yanks Delacroix out and then yanks O'Connor out from under Young and out of the ring! Pablo stumbles in shock into the aisle where Delacroix and KdV join him with title belts and stunned faces. Pablo looks at Brett in the ring as if he's seeing a ghost from the past come to haunt him, all the while Young is raging at Pablo with murder in his eyes.] SS: Who thawed Brett Young out of his cryogenic sleep?!? AM: I don't believe it, after everything O'Connor did to Brett Young years ago in the UWF, he's shown up here in L-PRO and look at the so- called L-Crown champion! He looks like he's seen a ghost! SS: Well he basically has! Who the hell invited him? [O'Connor and company waste little time heading back into the locker rooms, clutching all the gold and getting the hell out of dodge as Young's fierce look breaks into a little bit of happiness as the crowd continues to cheer loudly for him, even giving him a chant of "Welcome back! Welcome back!" By this point, Stephen Edge has managed to crawl out of the ring and staggers back up the aisle, and Young decides to duck out of the ring too, climbing back into the crowd and leaving the audience buzzing.] AM: Of all the things I thought I'd see tonight, that's got to be the most surprising of all. As far as everybody knew, Brett Young was in retirement from the business. I guess it goes to show the heart of a champion never stops beating. SS: Big deal, so some old timer tries to hog the spotlight. In other news, water is wet. He might have gotten the jump on Pablo tonight, but now Young's lost the element of surprise. Game over old man. AM: Keep looking past Brett Young, just like Pablo does and Brett will just keep proving you both wrong. Fans, we've got our main event coming right up next here, so let's get back to the ring. [The lights dim, and a single spotlight shines at the top of the ramp. The scraggly voice of an old man speaks.] Man: I have seen many extraordinary things in my life. I have seen children born and men killed. I have seen storms that would blow over houses, snowstorms that turned the world white, and the moon so big that I thought I could reach out and grab it. But today... today is a day that I will remember forever, that I will tell my children and grandchildren. For today, I have seen the Greatest Wrestler on Mother Earth. [The orchestral music of "Chariots of Fire" by Vangelis thunders over the PA System. After a moment, out steps Danny Holden. He's a tall, skinny wrestler. And young- he still has some acne on his forehead underneath his shaggy black hair. He's wearing business attire- tan slacks and a light blue shirt. And above his loafers are a hideous pair of purple socks with an orange diamond pattern. He ambles down and sits down at the announcer's table.] AM: Well I can't say I was expecting to have a guest commentator on the main event, but why not? Danny, welcome to the booth. SS: Yeah, this is great! We get to be blessed by the presence of the future L-PRO Champ. And thank god it's you and not Angus Andrews out here. DH: Now, now... Angus will go down in history as one of the first two men on my list of successful L-PRO title defenses. It's an honor- like being the first pitcher Babe Ruth hit a home run off of. SS: Well said, champ. AM: [trying her best to stay diplomatic] It's no secret that you have vested interest in how this one turns out, it'll be either Stan Fox or Michael Bonn entering the iron survival match with the same shot at walking out the first ever L-PRO Heavyweight Champion that you have, Danny. If you had to pick between them, who would you rather see joining you? DH: Stan's bigger and probably stronger, Bonn is much faster and more experienced. Bonn's like Angus, and less likely to make a mistake to capitalize. I have gameplans for both prepared- but Bonn's more likely to take longer to put him away. AM: Alright, well let's get down to the ring now for tonight's main event! __ ____ ____ ____ L / / / __ \/ __ \/ __ \ P / / _____/ /_/ / /_/ / / / /-------------------------- R / /__/____/ ____/ _, _/ /_/ / LEGACY PRO BREAKOUT O /_____/ /_/ /_/ |_|\____/---------------------------- MAIN EVENT, LEGACY TITLE QUALIFIER MATCH: "Nighthawk" Michael Bonn versus Stan "The Man" Fox ----------------------------------------------------------- BC: The following contest is your MAIN EVENT of the evening, and is a qualifying match for the Iron Survival Championship Challenge! ["Stroke Me" hits the PA system, the marching beat of which has the L-PRO audience slamming their hands against the barricade in time with the music even though it signifies the arrival of someone they don't particularly care for.] BC: From San Antonio, Texas, accompanied to the ring by Sugar, and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-five pounds... STAAANN "THE MAAAAAAAAAAN" FOOOOOOOOOOOOOX! [Sugar comes strutting out first, drawing a raucous pop from the crowd based on little more than appearances, the male based instinct to clap their hands for a hot redhead. And she knows it too, pushing them as she swings her hips and gyrates a bit in her skimpy outfit. As she suddenly drops to her knees, out onto the stage walks Stan "The Man" Fox, and the crowd turns on a dime with loud boos. Strobes and flashing lights surround them as they head down to the ring, the valet leading the way as the robe-clad Fox smirks over to the announce position where Holden is.] SS: I think he just called you out. DH: A lot of flash- mind you 'flash' is for people who can't deliver substance, and try to get by on style alone. AM: You're wearing those socks and complaining about someone else's flash? DH: What's wrong with these socks? AM: There's no shortage of confidence from the self-proclaimed Man there, but don't forget his opponent is one of the best in the business and has been for quite a while now. [Once in the ring, Sugar disrobes her man and then moves to hang upside down in the ropes before landing on the floor, while Fox faces the entrance and calls out the Nighthawk with some crass words.] SF: Bring out the bitch! And his old hag! [An audible "Ooooooh!" sparks from the crowd, though it's more along the lines of 'you have no idea what you just did' than 'oh snap'. And with that, Shinedown's "Fly From The Inside" hits the speakers and causes the crowd to come unglued!] AM: And here we gooo. I think Stan Fox is going to regret those words. DH: Rude. If you're good enough to beat Bonn, you don't need to say anything. And these socks are fantastic, Amy. BC: And his opponent, from North Brookfield, Massachussetts, weighing in at two hundred and twenty-seven pounds... Accompanied to the ring by VIRGINIA ST. URSULA... "THE NIIIIIGHTHAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWK" MICHAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEL BONNNNNNNNNNNNN! [Normally when Michael Bonn steps into the arena he's cold and intense and methodical, but right now he's anything but as the fire burns in his eyes as he glares down at Fox, who smirks again and flexes for his benefit. Virginia however is the one keeping him from charging down to the ring, instead leading him down slowly towards the squared circle reminding him of what the match represents.] SS: Kind of subdued for a guy who just had his punk card pulled. AM: That's because this match represents the next step in everything Michael Bonn has ever wanted. To become the heavyweight champion, to prove once and for all he's up there with the alltime greats in the sport. If he loses control and gets himself disqualified right away, that's it, no chance to be L-PRO Champion. [Bonn slides into the ring headfirst and rolls to his feet, then climbs the turnbuckles to face the crowd with dogged determination on his face. And still that murderous look in his eye as he glances back at the boastful Stan Fox.] AM: I just got a chill. SS: So close a window. This one's going to be over soon and I'm predicting Stan Fox shocks the world and pulls off the upset. DH: Fox is trying to goad Bonn into screwing up and disqualifying himself. But Bonn doesn't have a track record of losing by DQ. I don't expect Bonn to fall for it. I certainly wouldn't. That might work on other people, however... SS: Like maybe a certain double A? [The steel blue eyes of Bonn are fixed on Stan as they step forward to the middle of the ring, the referee going over final instructions before calling for the bell. Fox acts like a man who doesn't know he's in over his head though, jawing at Bonn before trying to pieface him backwards. His instinct is razor sharp though and the Nighthawk catches and blocks the attempt, nailing the larger man with a spinning back elbow strike right out of the gate. It's more of a glancing blow but it's enough to cause Fox to take a step back, gritting his teeth and angry at being shown up. Outside the ring Sugar screams "Not in the face!" and slam her hands on the mat, but a charging Stan is taken down expertly with a drop- step toehold and finds himself locked already in an armbar. Letting him back up slowly, Bonn is shot into the ropes but ducks a clothesline attempt and comes back with a forearm of his own. The sudden movements are doing more to make Fox angry than anything else, but it's also taking him off his game and as he swings wildly and widely again, the Nighthawk catches hit with a waistlock and takes him up and down with a german suplex bridging into the first pinfall attempt!] AM: One! Two! And kickout! Message sent early, don't you dare sleep on the Nighthawk. DH: And maybe Bonn's trying to goad Fox into screwing up. [As Bonn grabs him with a side headlock, the younger and bigger man gets back up and lifts him up off the ground with it, chucking the veteran to the mat with a quick back suplex. Bonn hits the mat and immediately rolls to the ropes, but Fox collides with him with a hearty kneelift and throws him across the ring again, properly nailing the aerial artist with a shoulderblock of his own and now it's Bonn who's on the mat and reeling. A flex to the crowd lets Stan revel in the scorn of the crowd, and dropping an elbow into Bonn's side furthers the control... until it's Michael hooking and rolling him over onto his shoulders again!] AM: One! TWO! No! Escape by Stan Fox, but that's the experience for Michael Bonn showing through there. It may be enough to win tonight, and it may also be enough to become the first ever L-PRO heavyweight champion. DH: Might work on Fox. Might work on Angus. Won't work on me. And again, Amy- what's wrong with these socks? They are made from Lycra. Should I have gone for the green-and-gold combination instead? AM: You have another pair? DH: I have SEVERAL. You should see my collection. [Fox is back on his feet one more time and tries to stem the tide of Bonn's advantage with a concealed jab to the throat, then hooks him with a front facelock and pounds on his back with a couple of forearms. Sugar whistles and claps in delight for him, drawing dagger glares from Virginia across the floor. Fox hits a gutbuster across the knee next, rolls Bonn over and tries to hook the leg but the Nighthawk finds the ropes and pulls himself to the outside apron first. No matter, Stan clubs him again and pulls Bonn back to his feet anyways, preparing to suplex him back into the ring. But mid-lift a knee to the temple rocks Stan, frees Bonn and as he staggers back it's Michael with a springboard back into the ring and executing another dropkick, this one that causes Fox to slam into the far corner, dazed. HUGE POP! Rolling to his feet and shaking things off, Michael rushes forward and delivers a staggering uppercut to keep Fox off his game, soon setting him up on the top rope in a sitting position and the Nighthawk begins to climb.] AM: Look out, some high risk high reward here... HURRICANRANA INTO THE MAT! SS: Get up, Stan! Get up! [Fox gets his shoulder off the mat deliberately to stop a count from even starting, and Bonn is back up and leaps into the ropes with an Asai moonsault next... but meets Fox's knees with a huge crash and burn. Buying himself some time now, Fox staggers back onto his feet and stomps viciously into the side of Bonn's skull, then adds another elbowdrop into the ribs for good measure. The bigger man methodically begins to pick away with seated punches and then rolls him over into a quick camel clutch hold, working Bonn's back over. He only hangs on for a few seconds before jumping into the air and coming down with a seated drop on Bonn's back again, smirking at the crowd as he asks them "Who's your daddy? I'M your daddy, Bonn!" Once again, Sugar claps on the outside and for good measure swings herself around the ringpost, using it as her own personal stripper pole.] SS: It's reasons like this why I love wrestling. AM: I don't think that word means what you think it does. DH: Going after the back and neck is a mistake. Bonn's quick- target the legs instead. Take away his speed. [Fox flexes once again as beneath him the Nighthawk struggles back to his hands and knees, and Stan sneers as he looks down again and reapplies the camel clutch. Bonn struggles but refuses to submit, and once again Fox lets go and jumps into the air... As the veteran rolls onto his back and Fox crotches himself on a couple of outstretched knees. HUGE POP!] SS: Aaaagh! AM: Is it still fair to call him the Man? Or for that matter, _A_ man at all? SS: Not cool, Marshall, not cool at all! [Rolling out to the floor in clear agony, Fox is doubled up in pain on his knees as Sugar tries her best to console him. Bonn knows he has him on the ropes, figuratively at least and gets back on his feet, timing a perfect dive out onto Stan with a somersault plancha! HUGE POP! And the Nighthawk makes it back to his feet, hearing the cheers of the crowd before climbing back onto the apron again and up onto the turnbuckles.] SS: Now what?!? AM: A little more punishment to be inflicted by the Nighthawk, still one of the best high flyers in the game today. [But it's Sugar who stands between Bonn and the still dazed Fox, begging and pleading for him to give a little mercy. Bonn angrily orders her to get out of the way, but the redhead stands her ground and refuses to... until she sees Ginny marching around the ring looking to even the score up. A shriek from Sugar who spots the other manager on her mission, and she darts off... ...Just in time for Fox to pop up and grab Bonn by the leg, wrenching him right off the turnbuckles and down with a devastating thud back-first onto the floor! HEEL POP!] AM: OH DEAR GOD! What an ugly fall that was! DH: Dumb move by Bonn. The longer you hang around the top rope, the more likely you are to fall. I always say that if you aren't off the top rope by three seconds after you get up there, then climb down. SS: Sometimes a hawk gets his wings clipped. [Smelling blood in the water, Fox rolls back into the ring just long enough to break the count before grabbing his opponent and scooping him off the ground, battering him into the edge of the ring and then the barricade before finally depositing him under the bottom rope. Again he just beats the count back in, but Bonn is in a bad way and Fox knows it, driving a knee into the small of his back again and grabbing him with a claw up under the nose. The referee gives him the count of five to let go, and Fox finally does but pulls Bonn back to a standing position and unleashes a series of backbreakers before tossing him away with disdain.] SS: My prediction is looking better and better all the time! AM: Fox is definitely in control at the moment, but not going for the cover right away is a mistake. We know Bonn is hurting, especially his back from that fall on the outside, but this is just giving him time to recover. DH: Yeah, but Bonn is lying on the mat. From that position he can't hurt Fox, and it gives Stan a chance to recover as well. And lying on the mat, you can see those cotton white socks Bonn's wearing. Really bad and boring. You can't do much with footwear in the ring, but... SS: Danny, I like you, and you're clearly the favorite, but ENOUGH WITH THE DAMN SOCKS! [A brief pause.] DH: You're tense, Sam. Probably sore feet. Get away from polyester- have you tried bamboo? [Sam groans. Fox goes back to work on Bonn again, a kneelift and another backbreaker allowing him a two count before Michael thrusts a shoulder up off the mat to a loud pop! Dragging him up by the head once again, Fox positions him for a powerbomb in the middle of the ring, hooking his arms around Bonn's waist and tries to lift.] AM: Bonn with the block, he's refusing to get caught with that powerbomb. SS: He knows it's over if he hits it, that's why. I never said the guy wasn't smart... just a pain in the ass. AM: Intelligence might be the difference tonight though. DH: If it makes the difference in the title match, I expect to win. *pause* Then again, I expect to win no matter what makes the difference in the title match. [Fox struggles to get the hold, and in frustration lets go and just pounds on Bonn's back once again. The Nighthawk drops to a knee and Stan tries again, hoisting him up into position on his shoulders... but Bonn sails up and over his head to roll Fox up! There's no cover though, as instead it's a vaulting knee square on the jaw that catches Fox and FLATTENS HIM. Bonn, weary but knowing where he is at all times, scrambles to the turnbuckles and climbs them, wasting no time as he launches himself... And lands a corkscrew elbowdrop right into the heart of the Man! Hooking a leg, hanging on...] AM: ONE! TWO! THREE! THAT'S IT!! MICHAEL BONN MOVES ON TO IRON SURVIVAL! [The crowd erupts with cheers as "Fly From The Inside" hits, and Bonn rolls off of Fox! On the outside of the ring Virginia is jubilant, pumping her fist into the air over the victory.] BC: Here is your winner, ADVANCING TO THE LEGACY CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH... "NIGHTHAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWK" MIIIIIIIIICHAAAAAEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLL BOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN! AM: Where are you going, Danny? DH: I want a closer look at my other opponent for the L-PRO title. [Holden stands up and with a thud, drops the headset on the table. The camera catches him starting to walk down to ringside where Bonn is slow to get up, the match having taken a lot out of him. Holden creeps closer to ringside just as Fox mounts another attack in anger, trying to club Bonn from behind. By now Virginia's spotted Holden on the way towards ringside... and her.] AM: Hey! Stay the hell away from her, Holden! SS: He's not going to do anything, he just- AM: HERE COMES ANGUS ANDREWS! [The crowd POPS as Andrews, still in his gear from earlier in the night heads down from the back, walking with a noticeable limp but headed down to ringside right after Danny Holden. In the ring, Bonn is able to duck a lariat by Fox and puts him down with a snap DDT of his own, when he looks over and spots not only Holden but also Andrews now at ringside, both nearby to Ginny. Showing off some of his deft speed even after the match he just had, Bonn immediately heads to the nearest turnbuckle to the other two men and...] AM: OH MY GOD, HAWKWIND! A HAWKWIND FROM THE TOP ROPE TO THE DAMN FLOOR AND HE JUST TOOK OUT ANDREWS AND HOLDEN! [MONSTER POP!!! Laying in a heap at Virginia's feet are all three qualifiers for the Iron Survival Match now, Bonn having taken out Danny Holden and Angus Andrews with one fell swoop and a 450 splash! "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!" "HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!"] AM: Dear god, there are bodies everywhere! Fans, we're out of time! We'll see you next week, goodnight! [Fade to black.]