Saturday Night Wrestling

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                           American Wrestling Alliance
                                 Proudly Presents
                         AWA Saturday Night Wrestling

                               San Antonio, Texas
                              September 28, 2008
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[As the closing notes to the "Sanford And Son" theme fade into nothing,
the viewing audience is greeted by the sounds of "One More Saturday
Night" by the Grateful Dead.

A large white map of the United States fills the screen as the music
plays.  The shot zooms through the map, different states "popping up"
into view as we race past them.  As we pull back from the map, it no
longer is white but rather made up of the Stars and Stripes.

The map goes into a spin, spinning round and round as we zoom all the
way into it, dissolving into a few slow motion shots of animated men
battling in a red, white, and blue ring.  The animation runs through
various wrestling moves from an atomic drop to a bodyslam to a
piledriver.

And as the blue animaniac applies a clawhold on the white animaniac, we
freeze and the AWA logo fills the screen.

After a moment, we fade away from the cheaply done intro to the smiling
faces of two men.

One is clad in a dark navy suit, white dress shirt, and red and white
striped tie.  He sports nicely-styled salt and pepper hair and a
well-groomed moustache.  He grips a wireless mic in his hand, grinning
widely at the camera.  In his late-50's and the epitome of
professionalism, this man is Gordon Myers.

By his side is... well, somewhat a bit more flashy.  With a mic in one
hand and a glitter covered briefcase in the other, this man is paunchy
to say the least.  He's got a decent sized gut pushing at the buttons on
his lime green dress shirt underneath an eye-burning yellow jacket.  His
black hair is tousled in all directions like he hasn't run a comb
through it in his life.  His teeth appeared to have been whitened
recently... perhaps several times even as he flashes a huge smile.  He's
in his late 30's... he's former manager "Big Bucks" Bucky Wilde.

They're standing in front of a bluish gray standard television studio
set where you can see the AWA logo splashed across the wall above a
small television monitor.  Wilde lifts his glittering briefcase with a
flourish, slapping it down onto a wooden "desk" in front of them as
Myers begins to speak.]

GM:  Good evening, fans, and welcome to another edition of AWA Saturday
Night Wrestling featuring all the stars of the American Wrestling
Alliance, _the_ major league of professional wrestling.  I am Gordon
Myers, your host for the next hour of action, and by my side, as
always...

BW:  Say it... saaaaaay it...

GM:  The Announcer of the Half Year, Bucky Wilde.  How long do you plan
on making me do that?

BW:  Until January, daddy.  Then I should have a new title.

GM:  I see.  Fans, as you may have noticed, while _we_ are in the WKIK
Studios tonight, the ring, the fans, all the AWA superstars are not.  In
fact, the action that you will be seeing tonight was taped last night at
the San Antonio Civic Center in front of a sold-out crowd and what a
night it was, Bucky.

BW:  We were both there last night to call the action live for tonight's
show and I still can't believe what Mark Shaw did.  And what about when-

GM:  Take it easy, Bucky.  We don't want to spoil anything for the fans
watching at home.  Let's just suffice to say you do NOT want to miss
what happened in San Antonio in this footage we'll be showing you over
the next ninety minutes.  We've got the debut of Japanese competitor
Naitomea, we've got Stevie Scott in action, and don't forget about the
official announcement of how the National Tag Team Champions will be
crowned plus much, much more.

BW:  Gordo, I can't believe he jumped over the-

GM:  Bucky!  Fans, before my colleague gives away the whole show, let's
go up to the ring for our first match!

[Both men turn towards the video monitor behind them as the shot changes
to live action from the San Antonio Civic Center.  There's a panning
shot over the few thousands on hand as the lights go down, to be
replaced by a bluewash. A thin shillouette stands at the entrance way,
standing out against the blue light. Nothing happens for a moment, and
the audience's noise has started to die down when the opening chords of
"Try Honesty" by Billy Talent begin to play. The bluewash changes to
regular lighting and "Subzero" Adrian Freeman slowly walks out, smoke
billowing out behind him. Some of the fans boo and jeer, and Adrian
takes a moment to sneer at them before heading to the broadcast table at
ringside, obviously frustrated about something.  Gordon Myers and Bucky
Wilde rise from their seats, turning to face the approaching Freeman.]

GM:  Good evening, fans, from here in San Antonio for this very special
AWA Saturday Night Wrestling taping.

BW:  It's Friday, Gordo.

GM:  But it won't be when our fans see this broadcast - nor when they
see this man, "Subzero" Adrian Freeman, who looks none too pleased right
now.

[Freeman enters the frame, snatching the mic.]

AF:  You're damn right I'm not pleased, Gordo.

GM: I'm assuming this has something to do with you losing to Rick
Marley's team in War Games?

AF: What did you just say?

[Gordon looks puzzled.]

GM: Um this has something to do with you losing to Rick Marley's team

AF: Stop right there. You're trying to undercut me again, aren't you
Myers? Always selling me short, hoping that nobody notices that I am the
best thing this federation has going for it. But no matter how many
times you say it, I did not lose to Rick Marley in Laredo. I was not
pinned and I was not submitted. I wasn't even in the same ring as the
fall. The Last Stampede proved nothing, other than that Stevie Scott
can't be relied upon.

BW: He has a point, Gordo.

[Freeman pulls the mic away again, totally irate as he points at the
camera.]

AF: Do you hear that Marley? It proves NOTHING.

GM: Be that as it may, you were still on the losing end.

AF: You know what? I don't want to talk any more. That's all anyone here
does: flap their gums. I'm going to do my job and wrestle.

[With that, Freeman slides under the bottom rope. Standing in the ring
already is Melissa Cannon, referee Marty Meekly, and a tall and muscular
wrestler.]

MC: The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a fifteen
minute time limit. Introducing first, from Birmingham, Alabama
CHRISTOPHER MCKENZIE!

[Surprisingly big cheer.]

BW:  Why all the cheers? Who is this guy?

GM:  Christopher McKenzie is a former linebacker for Texas A&M. He
already has the athleticism and dedication to make a great wrestler,
we'll see if he has the skill.

[Melissa Cannon raises the mic again.]

MC:  And his opponent, from Sydney, Australia "SUBZERO" ADRIAN FREEMAN!

[The crowd boos, but Freeman pays them no heed. Melissa steps through
the ropes and the bell quickly rings.]

GM:  We are underway. Lockup to start with, and McKenzie immediately
powers Freeman back into the corner. He has a sixty pound weight
advantage and he's not afraid to use it.

BW:  This seems unfair. Shouldn't we have weight classes or something?

GM:  Didn't seem to bother you when it was Tumaffi against well, anyone,
really.

[McKenzie whips Freeman into the ropes and catches him with a big
shoulder block on the return. Freeman is knocked over and Christopher
quickly covers.]

GM:  Kickout at one! McKenzie is off to a great start.

BW:  I'm surprised, I thought Freeman would have won by now.

[McKenzie drags Adrian Freeman up to his feet and drills him with a
right hand to the jaw. Freeman stumbles back. He drops to his stomach
and rolls out of the ring.]

GM:  Adrian Freeman taking a breather but McKenzie isn't going to let
him.

[Indeed, the former linebacker follows Freeman out and rushes at him.
Adrian ducks out of the way at the last minute, letting McKenzie run
shoulderfirst into the wooden steps, sending them sprawling. As he turns
around, walking away while holding his left arm gingerly, Freeman kicks
him in the upper arm and then European uppercuts him.]

BW:  McKenzie runs right into those steps! Ouch, there go those big
tackles. Welcome to wrestling, daddy!

[Freeman rolls his opponent back into the ring and follows him. He pulls
his opponent's arm into a chickenwing. McKenzie cries out in pain, but
refuses to tap. He tries to muscle his way out of it, but Freeman has
the hold on tight.]

BW:  This is how talented Adrian Freeman is. See how he takes a simple
submission and makes it very painful and very hard to escape.

[Eventually Christopher McKenzie powers his way over to the ropes. Marty
Meekly yells at Freeman to break the hold, but the Australian ignores
him. He starts a count, and gets up until four before Adrian finally
lets go.]

GM:  Freeman in no hurry to release that hold.

BW:  Hey, if the ref gives you five seconds you may as well use them.

[McKenzie gets to his feet, gingerly holding the damaged arm. Freeman
grabs that arm and uses it to whip him into the opposite ropes, then
catch a rebounding McKenzie with a big belly to belly suplex!]

GM:  Impressive suplex, getting the big man over! One! Two! No, McKenzie
kicks out.

BW:  See, he was able to do that because he used McKenzie's momentum
against him. Smart wrestling.

GM:  Since when are you such a technical wrestling expert?

BW:  Adrian told me about all this stuff himself.

[Gordon just sighs. In the ring, Freeman starts stomping on the arm of
the former linebacker.]

GM:  Brutal, just savage stomps to the arm.  He's looking to further
inflict damage on that arm and see if he can take one big weapon out of
McKenzie's arsenal.

[But McKenzie isn't out of it yet, as he shoves Freeman away and uses
the ropes to stand himself up. Freeman heads towards him, but gets a
knee to the breadbasket.]

GM:  Ohh!  He caught Freeman coming in with a knee!  Big left hand by
McKenzie!

BW:  And he's got these fans rallied behind him again, Gordo. 

[A series of right hands follows, sending the crowd into a roar.  A
dizzy Freeman stumbles back, and Chris McKenzie connects with a
clothesline that sends him falling head over heels!]

GM: Chris McKenzie, making a comeback! Can he pull off the upset here?

[McKenzie pulls Freeman's head between his legs, and lifts him up with
ease into powerbomb position to the cheers of the crowd!]

GM:  Powerbomb! No, Freeman countered!

BW:  He calls that the Peregrine Driver, daddy!

[Indeed, at the last second Adrian Freeman grabs onto Chris McKenzie's
head and falls back, driving his opponent's head into the canvas.
McKenzie lays there, motionless, as Adrian Freeman quickly scurries over
him and pulls him into the Deep Freeze. McKenzie cries out and then
taps.]

MC:  The winner of the match, at a time of four minutes and 17 seconds
"SUBZERO" ADRIAN FREEMAN!

[The screams of pain from McKenzie fill the air as Freeman keeps the
hold applied.]

GM:  And Christopher McKenzie just could not take that Deep Freeze. This
match is over but Freeman doesn't seem to be done yet.

[Adrian Freeman leaves the Deep Freeze locked on, just rolling his eyes
at the bell and Meekly's urgings.]

GM:  This is just spiteful and unnecessary. Young McKenzie could be
seriously hurt if Freeman keeps this stunt up much longer.

BW:  This has nothing to do with Christopher McKenzie. Adrian Freeman
wants to send a message to Rick Marley, and to the world.

GM:  Well, it looks like Rick Marley has a reply!

[The crowd roars as Marley races down the entrance ramp and slides into
the ring. Freeman immediately releases the Deep Freeze and punches
Marley as soon as he enters the ring. Marley returns fire, and the two
rivals are soon trading lefts and rights.]

GM:  Freeman! Marley! Going toe to toe inside the ring! And here comes
security to break it up.

[AWA security quickly floods the ring, pulling Freeman and Marley apart.
Both struggle with the larger security guards, trying to get at their
rival.]

GM:  After the chaos of the weeks leading up to The Last Stampede,
apparently the AWA officials are going to keep a tighter leash on some
of these guys.  Freeman and Marley want to go at it so badly but the
security forces are trying to keep them- ohh! 

[Freeman rears his head back and spits on Marley. Furious, Rick breaks
away from the guards for a moment and drills the Australian with a right
hand, before three security officers tackle him to the ground.]

GM: Well, obviously Rick Marley and Adrian Freeman agree on one thing:
things between them still haven't been settled.  We're going to try to
get this under control.  Fans, we'll be right back from San Antonio!

[With Marley and Freeman both being restrained by AWA security, the shot
fades out...

After a moment, we fade back up on a very long shot of the exterior of a
pretty dingy looking building.]

"Have you ever dreamed of fame?"

[Cut a little closer.]

"Of glory?"

[A little closer.]

"Of your friends and family seeing you on television?"

[And just a little closer, revealing a red, white, and blue sign that
reads "AWA Combat Corner."]

"Well, now you can make all your dreams come true by signing up today at
the AWA Combat Corner - the official training school for the American
Wrestling Alliance!"

[We cut to the interior of the building where we can see lots of
standard gym equipment surrounding a very basic wrestling ring.  There
are people lifting weights, running on treadmills, and of course,
working out in the ring.]

"With the very best trainers in the business, the AWA Combat Corner is
the most-equipped training facility to get you in shape and get you in
the ring in the shortest amount of time!"

[Cut into the ring where Todd Michaelson is barking out instructions.]

"With former World Champion Todd Michaelson leading the classes, you can
guarantee that you will be prepared for in-ring action upon graduation
and with the AWA expanding by the day, you will have a place to work on
Day One!"

[Two young students are grappling on the canvas.]

"So, stop by the Combat Corner today... call our offices... visit our
website... and let them know that you want to be the next AWA Superstar!
You want to be the future of the business!

You want to wrestle!"

[Fade to a graphic that has all the info on the AWA Combat Corner.  We
freeze there for a moment...

...and then fade back up on the announce desk in the WKIK Studios.]

GM:  Welcome back to AWA Saturday Night Wrestling, fans.  As you saw a
few moments ago, things are still spilling over from The Last Stampede. 
Obviously what went down in Laredo couldn't settle all the grudges in
the AWA.  Obviously we-

[Suddenly, the lights go dark and a montage of voices begins to play
over the P.A.]

"Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead!"

"He's dead, Jim."

"FATALITY!")

BW:  Hey, aren't we the only ones here tonight?  Whats going on here,
Gordon?

GM: Bucky, I have no

[Dream Evil's "The Chosen Ones" begins toblast out over the P.A. and the
team of Werewolf Gregorson and Despair step into the WKIK Studios, both
dressed in matching black ring attire with a barbed wire-wrapped sword
on the side of each leg.]

# We are the chosen ones, we sacrifice our blood
We kill for honor
We are the holy ones, our armor stained with blood
We killed the dragon

[Cupping his hands around his mouth, Gregorson lets out a wolflike howl,
then turns to his partner and nods his head as both men start making
their way to the announce desk.]

# In glory we return, our destination's end
We slayed the dragon!
No more living in fear, it's time to raise our king.
We made it happen - we're the chosen ones!

BW:  What are those two doing here? Theyre not scheduled to be here
tonight!

GM:  I dont know, Bucky. But this is a new look and new music for both
of them so maybe theyve got something to say.

# We are the chosen ones, we sacrifice our blood
We kill for honor
We are the holy ones, our armor stained with blood
We killed the dragon  were the chosen ones!

[Coming to a stop at the announce table, Gregorson and Despair take up
flanking positions on either side of Gordon and Bucky.]

GM: Gentlemen, welcome. Its a pleasure as always.

BW (under his breath): Not really.

WG: Gordon, thank you, and, Mr. Wilde, I advise you to choose your words
carefully or you may live to regret them.

BW: Hey, who do youeep!!

(Buckys argument is cut off as Despair feints a jab that sends the brash
color commentator scurrying behind Gordon Myers' back for safety.
Gregorson, meanwhile, nods his head appreciatively in his partners
direction and continues.)

WG: Gordon, with War Games and our teams victory over The Russians and
their allies now a thing of the past, the time has come for both Despair
and myself to refocus our efforts on the thing that brought us to the
AWA in the first placethe opportunity to become the first ever AWA
National Tag Team Champions.

D: And while the Championship Committee isnt making their announcement
until a little later in the program, we wanted to come out here tonight
and make it known that well do whatever it takes to win those titles.

WG: That being said, Gordon, Despair and I have agreed that, as much as
we enjoyed playing the parts of Americas Heroes in our feud against The
Russians, the time has come for us to be true to ourselves and return to
our roots.

GM: Does this mean youre turning your backs on the fans?

BW: See? I told you, Gordon. I told you all along!

D: Bucky, youre about this close to getting my foot shoved up your

WG: Were not turning our backs on anyone, Gordon. Were simplyturning the
intensity up a little here in the AWA.

GM: I see. So what does this mean in terms of what weve come to expect
from the team of Werewolf Gregorson and Despair?

D: It means, Gordon, that, if we need to break a few bones to get the
job done from now on, then thats what were gonna do. Getting cheered by
the fans is awesome, man, it really is

But having our opponents walk all over us because were honor bound to
follow the rules when its obvious that theyre not not gonna happen, not
any more.

WG: So, whether its Kentuckys Pride, The Glamour Boys, our old friends,
The Russians, or anyone else, let them all take notice. The Dead Pool is
reborn in the AWA, Gordon Myers, and things will never be the same
again!

[And as The Chosen Ones begins to play again, Gregorson and Despair
depart, leaving a speechless Gorden Myers in their wake.]

GM:  The Dead Pool?  I'm not sure I like the sound of that.

BW:  So much for the baby-kissing good guys.  They fooled you all!  I
knew they were scum all along, Gordo.

GM:  Bucky, please - I just... well, I don't know what to think about
the apparent change in attitude of Gregorson and Despair.  Fans, let's
go back to San Antonio for a match that had great potential that turned
very ugly in no time flat.

[Both men swivel to face the TV screen as the scene in San Antonio comes
back up to reveal Melissa Cannon standing in the ring.]

MC: The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a ten minute
time limit! Introducing first - already in the ring and accompanied by
his brother and tag team partner Cooper Oaks... From Zeb, Oklahoma and
weighing in at 235 pounds, KADEN OATS!

[A couple feint claps and a boo or two sounds out from the San Antonio
crowd for the 6'4" tag team wrestler and his brother, who is on the
outside. Oats kind of ignores the lack of applause and instead waves to
the crowd with a smile. Kaden Oats wears the same gear as his Oklahoma
Brothers' mate - black trunks and black t-shirts with the OK state flag
on them.]

MC: And his opponent, making his AWA debut and hailing from right here
in San Antonio, TX! 

[The crowd gives a big hometown cheer!]

MC: He stands at 6'5" and weighs in at 261 pounds - ROOOOOOODRICK
VIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDA!

[A young, mid-20's looking man comes through the entrance to a big
hometown ovation, causing Vida to raise his hands in the air. Dressed in
a black/blue/yellow wrestling singlet and boots, Rodrick Vida comes down
to the ring with no time to waste. He's not overly muscular, but he's
not a skinny kid either. As Vida approaches the ring, Kaden Oats exits
it to meet his brother and talk strategy. Meanwhile, finally inside,
Vida shoots his arms up once more for the hometown crowd.]

BW: Milking the San Antonio fans a bit too much, don't you think?

GM: This is his debut! To make it in front of his friends and family as
well? I can't think of why they wouldn't root him own, the hometown kid.

BW: Not when you done nothing to prove those cheers, daddy!

[The ref pats down Vida and does the same to the now re-entered Kaden
Oats. Once checked, the ref gives the signal for the bell.]

"DING! DING! DING!"

GM: There's the bell - Oats and Vida in a collar and elbow tie-up in the
center of the ring...

[The two struggle for a moment before the more experienced Kaden Oats
slips out and takes control, Irish whipping Vida into the ropes.]

GM: Oats charging towards Vida - big hack at the clothesline misses!

[Vida stops in his tracks and plants his left foot and then lifts his
right to hit the turning Kaden Oats square in the jaw! Huge crowd roar!]

GM: Amazing strike! Vida just leveled the Oklahoma Brother Kaden Oats
with that lightning quick superkick!

BW: For a man his size, that IS amazing! This Vida kid may have some
talent after all...

[Vida goes to the ropes and raises his hand as the ref tends to the
fallen Kaden Oats.]

GM: Vida celebrating and -

BW: And showing off, being a rookie that is. You haven't won the match
yet, kid! Got to cover him!

[The ref lifts Kaden Oats' arm once and it falls... Another time, and it
falls... Just as the ref goes to lift Kaden's arm for a third time, it
suddenly disappears! Crowd boos!]

GM: Cooper Oats just dragged his brother from the ring before the ref
could get the final count!

BW: Teamwork, daddy. Teamwork.

GM: But this is a one-on-one contest - there's no reason for Kaden Oats'
brother to be out here right now!

BW: That's no fault of his own that this Vida kid didn't have the brains
or the friends to come down to the ring with him. I thought the town was
behind him? Why not someone from the crowd.

GM: No!  Please, we don't want any incidents!

[In the ring, the ref admonishes the Oklahoma Brothers as Cooper drags
Kaden up and tries to revive him. Vida finally sees the situation and
just shakes his head in disgust.]

BW: One, two, three, Vida - that's how you win 'em!

[Seeing the two brothers standing on the opposite side of the ring on
the outside, Vida takes a couple steps back and runs full on, leaping up
and tumbling over the ropes in a tope con hilo! Another huge crowd cheer
for the move and Vida!]

GM: Amazing dive from this rookie Rodrick Vida, taking out both Oklahoma
Brothers on the outside!

BW: Amazing for the size of the kid, but it was still ugly! Vida almost
took as much from the move as the Brothers.

[Indeed, as the crowd still cheers for the move and the ref gives a ten
count, the three men on the outside start to stir.]

GM: You're right, Bucky. Vida's having a hard time getting to his feet
and I think he may have landed right on his left hip and knee.

BW: Kid got too hungry, looking to make a big splash on his debut match
and going after just too much there. Kid's got some talent - shouldn't
be wasting it all right here, right now.

[Kaden is the first to get to his feet and alertly rolls into ring to
break the count on him.]

GM: Count of five... six...

[Vida is up to one knee by the apron, the crowd cheering him on to get
in the ring and not go out like this.]

GM: Seven... eight... 

[Vida stands upright, with the other OK Bros Cooper still on the
outside.]

GM: Ni- No! Vida just escaped the count out, literally at the last
second!

BW: Vida's not going to lose his debut match to a countout, daddy! He's
no Tin Man Bust!

GM: Ugh, he was pivotal in that War Games match, Bucky. How can you keep
calling him that?

BW: Who, Old Man River? 

GM: Ugh... Back to the match, Kaden Oats now laying boots into the hip
of Rodrick Vida.

BW: Hit him where it hurts! If he's got a hip injury, bye-bye cause
that'll cause all sort of trouble.

[Kaden stops for a moment to look over the ropes at his brother Cooper,
seeing him still down on the ground after taking the brunt of the tope
by Vida.]

GM: Cooper Oats still down on the outside and it seems that that's
distracting Kaden from this match.

BW: That's flesh & blood - win's a win, but a brother's a brother,
daddy!

[Kaden, still clutching the ropes, quickly scrapes the heel of his boot
across the face of Rodrick Vida to the scorn of the fans. Oats then
starts to climb through the middle ropes, but a hand clutches the back
of his trunks and gets pulled back and rolled over.]

GM: Floatover roll-up by Vida! ONE! TWO! THR- NO!

BW: Too close, Gordo! That was too close for Kaden Oats! He's got to
stay focused on this match cause Vida's got all the big moves so far!

[An upset Kaden Oats jumps up and hits Vida with a big elbow to the back
of the head. Oats follows with an Irish whip on Vida into the corner
turnbuckle.]

GM: Oats charges... But alertly Vida sidesteps -

[Vida drops down and catches Oats' leg between his feet as he charges,
causing Oats to slam hard into the middle turnbuckle.]

BW: Right in the mush! Whoa, daddy, that's got to hurt!

GM: Vida with a drop toe hold on Kaden Oats and he looks out after
falling down hard onto that turnbuckle. Rodrick Vida looking impressive
in his debut so far...

[Vida drags Oats up to two feet and peppers the head of the OK Brother
with open palm strikes, each one snapping Oats' neck back and forth like
a spring.]

GM: Vicious strikes here from Vida -

BW: If this Oats kid's head wasn't ringing before, the bells sure are
tolling now.

GM: Vida now clutches Oats's head...

[Vida raises his left hand before striking his knee into the face of the
bent over Oats. Quickly wraps Oats' neck with his left arm and then
drops, slamming Oats' head into the mat. Another hometown crowd cheer!]

GM: Great combination takes down the Oklahoman! Vida with the cover -
ONE, TWO, TH-

[The crowd boos as Cooper Oats breaks the count by dragging his
brother's leg out from under Vida's cover.]

GM: Cooper Oats just stole Rodrick Vida's first win here in AWA!

BW: Hey, got to protect the blood. Hey, if Vida wanted the win, he
should've hooked the legs. Rookie mistake.

GM: I don't think he counted on someone dragging his pin away.

BW: Got to prepare for anything, Gordo.

[Vida tries to plead to the ref, but he just tells Vida that all he saw
was the pin breaking.]

BW: Get over it, kid, and get back to the gameplan.

[Kaden Oats gets to one knee, shaking his head that's been rattled
around in this match. Vida eyes the rising Oats and pushes the ref out
of the way.]

GM: Vida charges - oh! Huge thrust kick sends Kaden Oats to the outside!

BW: Damn, that hit that Oats kid right in the side of the head! 

[Kaden Oats crumples to the outside, to which his brother doesn't take
to kindly to. He yells at Rodrick Vida and Vida opens the ropes for him
all the while the ref tries to take command of the situation.]

GM: This match is breaking down and I don't think this is too wise of
young Rodrick Vida.

BW: Fighting both brothers isn't too smart, that's for sure. Cooper, I
don't know if he got any talent, but he's fresh and angry. Not to be
messed with right now, kid.

[The ref tries to push away Vida from the ropes to give Kaden Oats a ten
count, but is interrupted when Cooper Oats enters the ring.]

GM: Cooper Oats is in the ring now and -

[Just before the two men grapple, the crowd really lets out a round of
boos as a large figure makes his way down the aisle.]

GM: What in the world! What in the world is he doing here?!

BW: Gordo? Whatever the hell that mad man wants, that's what.

[Both Rodrick Vida and Cooper Oats stop their preparation to fight each
as they look on with a bit of amazement, a bit of fear, and bit of
confusion at the man who just entered the ring.]

GM: GRANT STONE! Grant Stone has no business being here! He has no
business in this match and no business to be in this building today!

[With an angered expression, Stone stands opposite of both Vida and
Cooper Oats as the fans continue loudly booing him.]

BW: Vida and Oats look like two deer staring straight into the
headlights of a big mac truck. Get out of there if you know what's good
for you!

[With a snarl, Grant Stone charges and turns Cooper Oats inside-out with
a huge clothesline. Vida looks on and tries to escape, but he too gets
caught with a clothesline to the back of the neck.]

GM: Someone! Get this psychopath out of the ring! Now!

[Stone scrapes his boot across the face of Rodrick Vida repeatedly as
the ref tries to break up the act. Grant Stone stops and shoves aside
the official.]

GM: This man has no conscious. None at all - not after what he did to
Kevin Slater. Not after what he did to Luke Steele.

BW: Don't you mean what SOMEONE told him to do?

GM: You believe that? Taylor doesn't seem to be the kind of man to
associate with this... this... monster.

BW:  Are you serious?  Taylor was running buddies with that lunatic
Simon Ezra!  Taylor was in the Syndicate with Casey James!  He's been
associated with monsters for years!

[Stone drags Rodrick Vida up by the hair and hoists him up over his
shoulders. The crowd boos loudly at their hometown man being treated in
such a way.]

GM: Don't do it! Don't -

[With a stoic, evil look, Stone drops to his side and drives down the
crown of Vida's head hard into the mat. The crowd falls silent as Stone
rises above a motionless Rodrick Vida.]

GM: What malice! What did this young man ever even do to Stone to
deserve that?

BW: Like I said, Grant Stone does what he wants right now. I don't see
anyone stepping up to the plate to challenge him after what he did at
the Last Stampede.

[As both Cooper and Kaden Oats escape the area, Stone looks down on the
still Vida... and picks him up by the hair again!]

GM: Damnit! Someone stop this!

[Reminiscent of what occurred to Slater and Steele, Stone shoves the
lifeless body of Rodrick Vida into the corner and hooks a biel on Vida
before tossing him over the ropes down onto the floor below.]

GM: This man is sick. Just sick!

BW: Hope that kid had some insurance cause he ain't wrestling any time
soon after that!

GM: Sadly, you might be right... Why? Why would he do this?

[The crowd really lets Grant Stone have it, some throwing trash in his
direction. Stone swats the projectiles out of the way as exits the ring
and nears the announcers' desk.]

BW: Gordo, I think you may just find out!

[Stone stands in front of the desk and holds his hand out. With a tight
upper lip born out of anger of what just happened, Gordon Myers slaps a
microphone into the hand of Stone.]

GS: That?

[Stone pauses, allowing the fans' anger to fill the gap.]

GS: That was a message. To anyone... Anyone who wants to take up Kevin
Slater's bounty. Anyone who wants that maggot's money?

[Stone's eyes narrow.]

GS: Come at me. You try to put me in a neckbrace - just try it. But
before you do it, just look on at the man over there on the ground. Look
on and see what you have to accept as a real damn good chance of never
walking again.

[Stone drops the microphone back on the desk and turns away, to which
Myers grabs it back.]

GM: He never even challenged you! He wasn't looking to get your bounty!

[Stone turns back for a moment, staring into the defiant Gordon Myers.
The big Kentuckian keeps his gaze on for a couple of seconds before
turning back around, stepping over the fallen Rodrick Vida as he
continues back out of the arena.]

GM:  Fans, ugh - someone's gotta stop this guy.  Someone absolutely has
to.  Kevin Slater, Frank Dylan James, Luke Steele, now Rodrick Vida? 
The body count continues to rise for Grant Stone.

BW:  You want someone to stop him?  Who?  Who, Gordo?  Who is going to
stand up to Grant Stone and live to talk about it, daddy?

GM:  I don't know but someone has to do it - and soon.  Fans, don't go
away - we'll be right back!

[The shot holds on Gordon Myers as we fade to black...

...and then back up to a shot showing the logos of Pro Wrestling
Revolution, Sin City Wrestling, and Southern Championship Wrestling.]

"From Day One, the American Wrestling Alliance was determined to give
its fans the very best action available.  And on Day One, our video
library is officially open for business!"

[Cut to a closeup of the Sin City Wrestling logo.]

"Check out "High Profile" Darryl Styles on commentary.  See the Upper
Crust in action before they were the Upper Crust!"

[Now to the Southern Championship Wrestling logo.]

"Ricky Royal lit up the rings in SCW before he came to the AWA!  "Stars
and Stripes" Clayton Shaw was a SCW staple as well!"

[And then the PWR logo.]

"See Calisto Dufresne in action!  And don't forget the ever-dangerous
Kolya Sudakov!"

[Cut back to the wide shot of all three logos.]

"Events from all three promotions are available NOW exclusively through
the AWA website via DVD or download!  So, be the first on the block to
be an AWA expert and check out all of this great action today!"

[Fade to black...

...and then back up on the WKIK Studios announce desk where Gordon and
Bucky are standing.]

GM:  Welcome back, fans.  The Last Stampede was the site of some
tremendous action and some incredible shocks - but perhaps nothing was
more shocking than Mark Shaw's violent betrayal of his tag team partner,
Adam Rogers, that night during their tag match with Shadoe Rage and
Bruno Verhoeven.   The stipulation was simple - the man who scored the
victory for his team would be named the #1 contender to the National
Title and receive a shot at Ron Houston here tonight.

BW:  And with a stipulation like that, how can anyone be surprised that
Mark Shaw would do whatever it took to take that spot?  But what about
what he did in San Antonio, Gordo.  I just can't-

GM:  We're not there yet, Bucky.  For now, let's take a look at some
comments recorded with "The Natural" Adam Rogers shortly after The Last
Stampede and then some more comments made in San Antonio last night. 
Take a look.

GM: And now let's take a look at some comments from "The Natural" Adam
Rogers that were recorded shortly after the conclusion of The Last
Stampede.

[Camera fades to a scene in the back of the South Laredo Rodeogrounds
where Adam Rogers is standing, holding a mic.]

AR: Well, you know what they say... all's fair in love and war.

Right, Mark Shaw?

[Rogers looks down, pursing his lips.]

AR: I guess I pegged you all wrong, pal. Yeah, I knew what the number
one contendership meant to you. And I knew you'd be willing to go
through hellfire and brimstone to get it, that you'd put it all on the
line tonight to walk out of Laredo, Texas, as the man breathing down the
neck of Ron Houston.

But willing to throw your dignity out the window to get there? I'm
sorry, but I thought you were more of a man than that.

Guess I was wrong, huh?

[Adam shakes his head, obviously disgusted.]

AR: That's one of the dangers of trying to do things the right way,
isn't it? I know what you said about Adam Rogers...shakes hands, kisses
babies...you're not the first person to accuse me of being a Boy Scout,
and that's OK. But Mark Shaw, allow me to give you a little history
lesson on "The Natural."

There have been times in my career where I haven't always done it that
way, situations where I made sure I did whatever it took to get my point
across. And if the need arises, I can still dig down into my bag of
tricks and pull out some surprises you never knew I had.

I would prefer not to go there. I've done things in my career that I'm
not proud of, all in the name of gold...much like you did tonight. I
would prefer to keep things above board, to maintain my personal honor,
my dignity, my respect both for me and for the sport. But sometimes, as
they say, you have to fight fire...with fire. And if playing dirty is
what you want? Buddy...I can be the dirtiest player in the game.

For your sake, you better pray that this developing thing between you
and me doesn't get that far.

[The camera freezes on Rogers' face for an additional second, then cuts
to the San Antonio Civic Center where Adam Rogers is standing with
Gordon Myers and Bucky Wilde.]

GM: There you heard the comments from "The Natural" Adam Rogers
following The Last Stampede, and now the former World Heavyweight
Champion joins us. Adam, it was indeed an unfortunate turn of events for
you in Laredo, Texas.

[Rogers shrugs.]

AR: It was and it wasn't Gordon. Yes, I did not walk out of Laredo with
the number one contendership but truth be told, that doesn't mean a
whole lot. I'll get to why in a second. But first, let's talk about why
it was, instead, a rather fortunate turn of events for me. 

[Myers gives a quizzical look as Rogers goes on.]

AR: You see, Gordon, what this allowed me to see is what kind of person
Mark Shaw truly is. Now, I knew the number one contendership meant a lot
to him...but enough to attack his own partner? Enough to jeopardize our
opportunity to win the match by refusing to tag out on several
occasions? Mark Shaw showed his true colors in Laredo, Texas.

Yellow.

Don't think I'll ever forget that. I've got a long memory, Mark Shaw,
and someday...sooner or later...you're going to have to pay the piper
for what you did in Laredo.

Now, Gordon...as we all know, Mark Shaw has a title shot tonight against
Ron Houston.

[Myers nods.]

GM: That is correct.

AR: And by virtue of winning the battle royal a few months ago, I still
have a guaranteed shot at the National Title coming my way.

GM: That also is correct.

AR: So let's just say that somehow...some way...Mark Shaw is able to
beat Ron Houston tonight and become the new AWA National Champion. Guess
who's going to be at the front of the line?

GM: You.

[Adam smiles, nodding.]

AR: You got it. The way I see it, my shot at the title? Long overdue. I
should have received it that very night but thanks to Marcus Broussard,
that didn't happen. So as far as I'm concerned, if I want that shot
tonight after the number one contender finishes with his? I'll have it.

And who knows, Gordon? If Shaw does win...I may just decide that I want
my shot _tonight_!

[Big roar! Rogers grins again, pats Myers on the shoulder, points to the
crowd and then walks out of the camera view.]

GM:  There you have it, fans - and that just makes tonight's showdown
between Ron Houston and Mark Shaw for the National Title just a little
more interesting.  With Adam Rogers waiting in the wings for the winner
and potentially taking his title shot TONIGHT!

BW:  That... that hardly seems fair, Gordo.

GM:  Fair or not - it may be exactly what we're going to see.  But we
know exactly what we're going to see right now.  The man who submitted -
who surrendered - in WarGames to lose the match for his team, "Hotshot"
Stevie Scott is in action!  Let's go up to Melissa!

[Cut to the ring where Melissa Cannon is standing.]

MC: Our next contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first,
already in the ring, from Havana, Cuba...CUBAN ASSASSIN #6!

[The crowd reacts with a surprising small face reaction.]

MC: And his opponent...from St. Louis, Missouri, weighing in at 231
pounds...here is "HOTSHOT" STEVIE SCOTT!

[The supra-loud lead guitar of Spinal Tap's Nigel Tufnel blasts over the
P.A., followed by the other lead guitar from David St. Hubbins from
their hit "Bitch School." The crowd immediately reacts with jeers at the
soon-to-be-entering villain who got what was coming to him at the Last
Stampede.

Finally, emerging through the curtain is "Hotshot" Stevie Scott,
bringing the jeers to a new level of...jeering. The normally cocky Scott
is anything but, instead seeming almost dazed as he pauses, looks to
each side, and slowly begins making his way to the ring.]

GM: There he is, folks, a man who just weeks ago was surrounded by
friends...by associates...and tonight he walks to the ring a defeated
man, Bucky Wilde.

BW: I tell ya, Gordon, I'm not sure what to make of this. On one hand,
it's hard to fault Stevie Scott from surrending since that stake was
being driven into his head...but on the other hand, he let his team
down, a team that included some men who don't like being let down, if
you get my drift.

GM: Indeed I do, and so does Stevie Scott.

[Stevie's clad in full-length tights, with flames airbrushed down the
outside of each leg, his dirty blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail.
He now sports a scraggly beard instead of his stubble, a darkish color
contrasting against his hair. Ignoring the crowd, he slides under the
bottom rope and immediately heads to his corner awaiting the bell.]

GM: Stevie Scott not anywhere near his usual arrogant self this evening,
and it's going to be interesting to see where he goes from here...a man
used to being surrounded and supported by allies suddenly has none.

[The bell rings and Stevie and CA6 circle one another before going into
a collar-and-elbow. It doesn't take long before the Assassin easily
armdrags Stevie down to the canvas.]

GM: Armdrag takeover by the Cuban Assassin, a move performed with
relative easy, Bucky Wilde.

BW: Stevie's head just ain't in it tonight, Gordo. No way that should
have happened.

[Stevie sits on the mat for a moment, again with a dazed look on his
face, before getting back up and circling CA6 again.]

GM: He needs to get his head into it, and soon. There's another tie-up,
and _again_ the Cuban Assassin takes the Hotshot down with an armdrag
takeover, this time holding onto the arm and applying an armbar.

BW: Don't forget, it wasn't too long ago that Stevie bribed the Assassin
to take his spot in a tag match...might be some payback tonight.

GM: That would well fit the theme in Stevie Scott's life recently.

[Stevie rises to a vertical base, backing his way into the ropes and
forcing a break. CA6 breaks cleanly and Stevie takes a powder, falling
to the mat and rolling to the floor.]

GM: Stevie Scott getting out of the ring, perhaps to clear his head a
bit-

BW: Or perhaps to leave.

GM: Indeed he is...Stevie's heading back toward the dressing rooms it
appears.

[Big roar! Not for long, as the CA6 is quick to give chase and catch
Scott before he disappears, spinning him around and drilling him with a
hard right hand!]

GM: The Cuban Assassin has other plans! Big right hand, and now he's
dragging Stevie Scott back to the ring! My goodness, Bucky Wilde, love
him or hate him, I never thought I'd see the day where Stevie Scott
looked this bad.

BW: He's lost out there, Gordo. Totally lost.

GM: The Assassin sends him back into the ring, climbs back in
himself...Stevie to his feet, and a scoop and a slam from the big Cuban!
Off the ropes...elbowdrop right on the money! Lateral press gets a
one...two...

[But Stevie finally gets a shoulder up before the ref's hand hits the
mat for a third time. Disappointed reaction from a crowd that is getting
more and more behind the CA6.]

GM: Near fall right there...the Cuban pulls Stevie to his feet, but a
thumb to the eye by the Hotshot!

BW: That's the old Stevie Scott. Maybe he's getting his head back on
straight.

GM: A pair of forearms to the side of the head staggers the Assassin...
Scott grabs an arm and sends him for the ride...here comes a
clothesline, ducked by the Assassin!

[CA6 hits the far side, charging toward Stevie and leaping into the air
before Scott can react.]

GM: Diving forearm smash from the Cuban Assassin! Stevie's been knocked
flat!

BW: I think he calls that the Cuban Cigar, right?

GM: Whatever, it was effective. Here's a cover...could it be?

[The crowd counts along with the ref...one...two...three! Really?

Really.]

GM: I... I don't believe what we just witnessed. Fans, the Cuban
Assassin #6 just beat Stevie Scott, and he beat him without breaking a
sweat!

BW: Wow. I don't even know what to say.

MC: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner...THE CUBAN ASSASSIN #6!

[The crowd roars again for the "enhancement talent", who even seems
shocked he won. He raises his arms in victory before exiting the ring to
cheers. Stevie, on the other hand, sits up seemingly unbothered by what
just happened. The crowd again begins to jeer and make fun of the
Hotshot.]

GM: We may be witnessing the end of what was a very good career, Bucky.
Stevie Scott just lost to the Cuban Assassin #6, and his reaction is
honestly surprising to everyone. Like he doesn't care that he lost.

BW: He might not, Gordo, because he already lost all he had at The Last
Stampede. He lost his friends.

GM:  Fans, this has been a night of unexpected happenings here in San
Antonio - and we're nowhere near done.  Don't go away, we'll be right
back with more AWA action!

[The shot holds on a disillusioned Stevie Scott slowly walking back up
the aisle before fading to black...

...and then fade back up on a black screen with the AWA logo splashed
across it.]

"Join your favorite stars of the American Wrestling Alliance throughout
the state of Texas this week for exclusive meet-and-greet sessions."

[A scrolling list of names and locations flash by in white text:

Rick Marley and Kentucky's Pride
Laredo Fashion Plaza - Laredo, Texas
October 1

Ricky Royal
Dallas Honda - Dallas, Texas
October 3

Sweet Daddy Williams
Houston Fashion Plaza - Houston, Texas
October 5

Werewolf Gregorson, Despair, and Adam Rogers
Harris Chevrolet - Dallas, Texas
October 7

The names end, leaving just the AWA logo behind.]

"All the stars of the AWA are comin' your way so don't miss 'em!"

[And with that, we fade back to black...

...and then back up on the WKIK Studios announce desk where another
individual has come out to join Gordon and Bucky.  Shadoe Rage swirls in
his navy sequined cape, arms thrown out so that the RAGE in silver
sequins is visible. He holds his money bag in his left hand as he starts
shouting in the direction of the mic.]

SR: Let me tell you something ... the AWA doesn't want me here. I know
this. You two know this but you're stuck with me. I'm here and I'm not
going any where, get me? 

[Rage slams the money bag down on the announce desk, pointing a
threatening finger at Gordon Myers who takes a visible half-step back.]

SR:  The Stampede was the last straw. Not only did they saddle me with a
fraud by the name of Bruno Verhoeven who is nothing but a coward like
his so-called father. No, but they treated me like an afterthought. I
will not accept that kind of disrespect. Doesn't anybody notice that
Paul Driscoll isn't around here any more? He's busy learning how to walk
again. That's what he's doing. 

[Rage cackles at his own joke - then goes deadly serious again in a
heartbeat.]

SR:  The AWA is now Rage Country whether you all like it or not. It's
just that simple, man. This is Rage Country and I should be the rightful
number one contender. But no, you had to go try to embarrass me. You had
to go and find me the worst partner in the world and try to disrespect
me but the fact is I was the best wrestler in that ring.

[He holds the money bag up once again.] 

SR:  Tonight there will be no competition for my $25,000. No, there
won't be. But you're all on notice. After tonight I will no longer be
held responsible for my actions. You will all feel my wrath and you will
all die in darkness!

[Rage storms away from the announce desk leaving a stunned Myers and
Wilde behind.]

GM:  That guy is... well, he's not playing with a full desk, is he?

BW:  A full deck?  I'm not even sure he has cards at all.

GM:  Fans, let's go back to San Antonio for the debut of the newest AWA
competitor - hailing from Japan - Naitomea!

[We cut back to the San Antonio Civic Center where Melissa Cannon is
standing.]

MC:  The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a ten minute
time limit.  Introducing first... already in the ring at this time...
standing 5'9 and weighing in at 180 pounds... from Tocula, Mexico... he
is INFERRRRRNOOO!

[Inferno raises an arm to some cheers.  He's clad in black from head to
toe with the arms cut out to be left bare.  His black mask is covered in
stitched red and orange flames.]

MC:  And his opponent...

[The sounds of the Deftones fills the San Antonio Civic Center as the
crowd begins booing.]

MC:  Weighing in at 195 pounds... from Japan... making his AWA debut...

NAITOOOOMEAAAA!

[The entrance curtain blows open revealing a slow walking figure. He's
wearing chromatic colored vinyl pants with black flames coiling their
way from his shins to his inner thighs. Black boots with white kick pads
complete his lower half. He's wearing a black, sleeveless, skin tight
t-shirt stylized with a crucified angel on the front and some sort of
winged demon on the back. His tanned, petite yet muscular arms and
heavily tattooed with some sort of tribal design and glisten with oil.
Black BMX styled gloves conceal his hands. His face is hidden by a black
carbon fiber fitted helmet that looks like a bleached white skull who's
mouth is twisted with a spine chilling smile. Two massive horns protrude
upward from the temples and the eye slits are covered with a opaque
material which glows a constant red. His long black hair falls freely
and appears to be dripping wet. He slowly walks down the aisle way
admits the seemingly quiet arena.]

GM:  This guy scares me a bit, Bucky.

BW:  Is it the mask?  The mask creeps me out.  I've been having
nightmares about that mask for-

GM:  It's not the mask.

BW:  Oh.  Yeah.  Me neither.

GM:  It's just the way he carries himself.  No heart.  No soul.  Some
kind of a monster it seems.

BW:  Well, yeah - there's that too.

[Naitomea steps through the ropes, tossing the carbon fiber mask aside
to reveal a more traditional vinyl mask underneath...

...and then immediately charges forward, leaping into the air with a
dropkick to the chest of Inferno that knocks the smaller man back into
the buckles as the bell rings to start the match.]

GM:  Ohh!  Cheap shot to start the match!

[The Japanese grappler quickly gets to his feet, lashing out with a
knife-edge chop across the chest of the stunned Inferno before grabbing
him by the wrist.]

GM:  Irish whi- WHOA!

[The crowd gasps as Inferno runs up the turnbuckles, executing a full
backflip to land on his feet behind the charging Naitomea...

...and then immediately leaps back up into the air, snaring Naitomea in
a rana that snaps him down to the mat to the cheers of the crowd!][

GM:  Uh oh!  This nineteen-year old from Tocula, Mexico is not about to
be intimidated by the bully from Tiger Paw Pro, Bucky.

BW:  Apparently not.  Inferno showing off some speed and quickness to
get an edge on Naitomea who immediately pulls back to regroup.  Smart
move by Naitomea.

[The Japanese bully leans against the ropes, kneeling on the canvas as
he eyes the spunky luchador warily.  Inferno claps his hands together,
starting a rally clap for himself as he waves Naitomea back into action
with him.]

GM:  Naitomea slowly to his feet - here comes Inferno!

[The luchador drills Naitomea with a pair of right hands before
attempting a whip.]

GM:  Irish whi- reversed by Naitomea!

[Inferno rebounds back at top speed...

...and promptly gets a hard knife-edge chop to the windpipe that knocks
him off his feet, leaving his gasping for air.  A quick leaping senton
across the chest allows Naitomea to make a quick pin attempt.]

GM:  One!  Two!  That's all.  Inferno slipped out the back door.

[Naitomea promptly gets to get feet, dragging the masked man up by the
eyehole of his mask...

...and uses the mask to throw Inferno to the corner to the boos of the
capacity crowd.]

GM:  Back into the corner they go again...

[A couple hard forearms to the chest leaves Inferno hanging on to the
top rope, trying to stay standing.]

GM:  Inferno's trying to weather the attack from Naitomea here and-
another whip...

[But this time, Inferno slams spinefirst against the buckles, making him
easy prey as Naitomea barrels across the ring...

...and drives his boot up into the chin of Inferno!]

GM:  OHHHH!  RUNNING KICK TO THE JAW!

[Yanking Inferno out of the buckles, Naitomea pulls him into a front
facelock, reaching down to hook the leg.]

GM:  What's he got in mind here?

[Hoisting Inferno off the mat, Naitomea drops him down headfirst on the
canvas.]

BW:  FISHERMANBUSTER!

GM:  I don't even know what that is!

[Naitomea leans over the downed Inferno, slapping him hard across the
face before hooking his fingers into the mask's eyeholes once more and
dragging him off the mat.]

GM:  No pin attempt at all.  This guy's just cruel - brutal too.

[Naitomea hoists Inferno off the mat, depositing him up on the top
turnbuckle.]

GM:  Uh oh.  This can't be good news for the  young man from Mexico.

[The Japanese superstar steps up to the midbuckle...

...and eats a hard right hand across the face by Inferno!][

GM:  Ohh!  What a shot by Inferno!

[A second one wobbles Naitomea and a third knocks him off the ropes to
the mat.]

GM:  Down goes Naitomea!  Inferno's on his feet!

[And as soon as Naitomea climbs to his feet, Inferno leaps into the air,
snaring a front facelock, rotating through the sky...

...and SPIKING Naitomea headfirst on the canvas!]


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


BW:  TORNADO DDT BY INFERNO!

GM:  The luchador is fighting back!  He's got this crowd rallied behind
him and- OHHHH!

[With Naitomea down on the mat, Inferno snaps off a standing somersault
senton, throwing himself across Naitomea as the referee drops down to
count.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THR-  NO!  NO! 

BW:  Naitomea just barely got the shoulder up and that would've been a
major upset considering all of the hype we've seen for Naitomea over the
past several weeks, Gordo.

GM:  Inferno drags him off the mat, scoop... and a slam down to the mat.

[The crowd roars as Inferno gestures towards the corner, quickly scaling
the ropes to the top.]

GM:  Inferno is up top!  He's poised!  He's ready!

[And he throws himself into the air, executing a full front
somersault...

...and hitting nothing but canvas as Naitomea rolls out of the way of
the 450 splash!]

GM:  OHHHHH!  MISSED!

[Naitomea quickly regains his feet, yanking Inferno off the mat by the
mask into a scoop...

...and then smashes him down to the mat with a split-legged driver!]

GM:  OHHH!  Right down on the back of the head and neck!  One.  Two. 
Three.


"DING!  DING!  DING!"

MC:  Your winner of the match in a time of two minutes and fifty-seven
seconds...

NAITOMEA!

[The crowd boos the announcement as the Deftones start once more over
the PA system.]

GM:  Big win for Naitomea here in his debut and I look forward to seeing
what else this young man will be able to do here in the AWA in the weeks
to come.  Fans, don't go away - after this break, we've got the
announcement regarding the National Tag Team Titles that you will NOT
want to miss!

[The shot holds on Naitomea looking menacingly down at Inferno as we
fade to black...

After a moment, we fade back up on a very long shot of the exterior of a
pretty dingy looking building.]

"Have you ever dreamed of fame?"

[Cut a little closer.]

"Of glory?"

[A little closer.]

"Of your friends and family seeing you on television?"

[And just a little closer, revealing a red, white, and blue sign that
reads "AWA Combat Corner."]

"Well, now you can make all your dreams come true by signing up today at
the AWA Combat Corner - the official training school for the American
Wrestling Alliance!"

[We cut to the interior of the building where we can see lots of
standard gym equipment surrounding a very basic wrestling ring.  There
are people lifting weights, running on treadmills, and of course,
working out in the ring.]

"With the very best trainers in the business, the AWA Combat Corner is
the most-equipped training facility to get you in shape and get you in
the ring in the shortest amount of time!"

[Cut into the ring where Todd Michaelson is barking out instructions.]

"With former World Champion Todd Michaelson leading the classes, you can
guarantee that you will be prepared for in-ring action upon graduation
and with the AWA expanding by the day, you will have a place to work on
Day One!"

[Two young students are grappling on the canvas.]

"So, stop by the Combat Corner today... call our offices... visit our
website... and let them know that you want to be the next AWA Superstar!
You want to be the future of the business!

You want to wrestle!"

[Fade to a graphic that has all the info on the AWA Combat Corner.  We
freeze there for a moment...

...and then fades back to the WKIK Studios broadcast table where Gordon
Myers and Bucky Wilde are standing, having been joined by Stephen Ross.]

GM:  Fans, welcome back to AWA Saturday Night Wrestling.  At this time,
we have been joined by the Chairman of the Championship Committee,
Stephen Ross, who has promised to give us some very exciting news about
the crowning of the first AWA National Tag Team Champions.  Mr. Ross,
welcome to Saturday Night.

SR:  It's my pleasure, Gordon.

BW:  Well, what's the big news?

SR:  No time for pleasantries, eh Bucky?  

GM:  I apologize, Mr. Ross, for my colleague.

SR:  No worries, guys.  I want to get down to business just as much as
you do.  This announcement has been a long time in coming - there's been
a lot of hype and anticipation for it so without anything further... 

[Ross pulls out a sheet of paper and begins to read.]

SR:  The Championship Committee of the AWA is honored to announce that
the National Tag Team Titles have been officially launched as of
tonight.  To crown the first champions, the American Wrestling Alliance
will be hosting a traditional tag team tournament.  Over the next
several weeks, the Committee will be reviewing applicants for the
tournament and seeding them according to win/loss record, quality of
opposition, as well as overall talent.  Once the seedings are complete,
the brackets will be announced.  In the end, only one team will be
standing and that team will be the National Tag Team Champions.

GM:  How many teams will be involved in the tournament?

SR:  We're not prepared to disclose that at this time.  But we should
have that information in the coming weeks.  But we do know is this
should be one heck of an exciting tournament and everyone at the AWA
offices is overjoyed to finally be getting this chase for the gold
underway.

GM:  Well, thank you yet again, Mr. Ross, for being with us.  For now,
let's go up to the ring where Rough N Ready, sure to be considered for
this big tournament, is about to compete.

[All three men turn towards the television monitor behind them as the
San Antonio Civic Center comes into view yet again.  Up to the ring we
go with Melissa Cannon, who is in the ring with two other wrestlers
already there. Both are slightly balding men, one wearing black trunks
and the other wearing red trunks.]

MC: The following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall.
Introducing first, both hailing from Fargo, North Dakota, at a combined
weight of an even 500 pounds, the team of Alvin and Orville Anderson!

[The two men immediately raise their arms to the crowd.]

BW: Since when was there ever a wrestler named Orville?!

GM: There is now, Bucky.

BW: Oh, you're funny, Gordon.

[The opening strands of Deep Purple's "Knocking At Your Back Door" kick
in, the chords seemingly building anticipation for what is to come. And
once the chords reach their crescendo and the drums kick in, that's when
Rough N Ready emerges from the entranceway.

Dave Cooper wears black wrestling trunks, matching kneepads and white
wrestling boots, and also wears a black T-shirt that says "Rough N
Ready" in white lettering. Eric Matthew Somers wears a black singlet and
white wrestling boots. Standing in between them is their manager, Sarah
Sharpe, dressed in black pants and matching jacket and a white T-shirt.]

MC: And their opponents, accompanied to the ring by their manager, Sarah
Sharpe, hailing from Albuquerque New Mexico, at a combined weight of 615
pounds, here are Dave Cooper and Eric Matthew Somers, the team of Rough
N Ready!

[The trio makes their way to the ring, Sarah walking in front with Dave
and Eric side by side, Dave with a serious look on his face and Eric
with a mischievous grin. They reach the ringside area, where Dave is the
first to ascend the ring steps and duck between the ropes, followed by
Eric, as Sarah takes her place at ringside.]

GM: Rough N Ready coming off a win over the Glamour Boyz at The Last
Stampede, although I wonder if the issues between those teams have truly
been settled.

BW: I know for a fact that Hoff is not going to let his men get set back
by one loss, especially when the Glamour Boyz proved these old men don't
have what it takes to keep up with the youth of today!

GM: The Glamour Boys are certainly an up and coming team, but from what
I saw at The Last Stampede, the veterans in the ring showed they still
have what it takes to be one of the best teams in the AWA.

BW: Yeah, well, I'd bet on that changing the next time they face Hoff's
men.

GM: The bell has sounded and this one is underway.

[Dave Cooper starts for his team with Alvin Anderson, the man in the red
trunks, starting for his side. The two lock up, with Cooper managing to
apply a side headlock.]

GM: Cooper with a side headlock on Alvin Anderson.

BW: Alvin, is it? So when do Simon and Theodore do the run-in.

GM: Bucky, must you make such a joke?

BW: What, you'd rather I ask where Dave Seville is?

GM: [sighs] Never mind... Alvin now shoving Cooper into the ropes, but
it's Cooper with a shoulderblock on the rebound. Alvin now getting to
his feet, but Cooper is waiting for him.

BW: He's going right back to that side headlock... and there's a nice
counter with a backdrop suplex by Alvin Anderson. See, I told you
Cooper's getting up there in years.

GM: The match is barely underway, Bucky... but it was a good counter
move by Alvin Anderson, and now he stomps away on the downed Dave
Cooper.

[Alvin then drags Cooper to his feet, sending him into the ropes and
attempting a back body drop, but Cooper anticipates the move and kicks
Alvin in the head.]

GM: Cooper countering that back body drop attempt... and now he goes
into the ropes... big clothesline takes Alvin Anderson off his feet!

BW: OK, so Cooper still has a few tricks up his sleeve, but no way can a
man thinking more about his 401K than his weekly paycheck keep this pace
up.

GM: Cooper with a headbutt that stuns Alvin... now drags him to the
corner and here's the tag.

[The crowd cheers as the big man, Eric Matthew Somers, enters the ring,
with Cooper holding Alvin Anderson so Somers can dish out a swift kick
to the gut.]

GM: Somers now sending Alvin into the ropes... he catches him in a
bearhug!

BW: Alvin goes to the eyes! Good move right there!

GM: That's against the rules, but it may have been the only way Alvin
could have broken out of that hold... now Alvin nailing a series of
forearms, trying to soften up the big man.

[Alvin goes for a kick to the midsection, but it's blocked by Somers,
and now Alvin finds himself flailing away with his arms to no avail.]

GM: Somers blocked that move... he spins Alvin around... atomic drop
finds the mark!

BW: Right down onto that spine... and it looks like Alvin wants out of
there.

GM: He makes the tag to Orville Anderson... we will see if he fares any
better.

BW: Maybe he needs his brother Wilbur in there... I hear they do
interesting stuff with a bicycle.

GM: Bucky, stop that.

BW: OK, you want to just go get some popcorn?

GM: What are you talking about?

BW: I'm serious, Gordo... I hear their popcorn is so good, it blows the
top right off the popper!

GM: [groans] I had to ask.

[Meanwhile, there is a match going on, as Orville has been firing off a
series of strikes to Somers, managing to stagger the big man, thus
prompting Orville to climb to the second rope and leap at him.]

GM: Orville leaps at the big man of Rough N Ready... but he's caught!

BW: I guess Wilbur did a better job at flying, didn't he?

GM: Stop it, Bucky... Somers has Orville... is he just setting him down?

[Sure enough, the big man of Rough N Ready gently places Orville down on
his feet then pats him on the shoulder.]

BW: Wow, Eric, try that with the Glamour Boyz and they'll just take you
right off your feet.

GM: Somers seems to be... wait a minute! The big man with a quick
waistlock that catches Orville off guard! Overhead belly to belly
suplex!

BW: Whoa... did you see how high he elevated Orville? Unbelievable!

[Alvin Anderson senses his partner is in trouble and has gone to the
second rope, and his effort works as Somers had his back turned.]

GM: Alvin back in the ring and just nailed Somers with an axhandle from
behind... the big man down to one knee as now Alvin going to help
Orville up.

BW: Better take advantage of the two-on-one situation while you can.

GM: Alvin and Orville now both hammering away on Somers... Dave Cooper
trying to get in there, but referee Marty Meekly holds him back.

BW: They send him into the ropes... double dropkick takes Somers down!
How about that, Gordo?

GM: Alvin now sliding out of the ring as Orville is going for a cover..
but the official is late to get there.

BW: Lazy bum!

GM: The cover... one... two... bench press kickout!

[Somers now rolls to his feet, looking a bit more ticked off than he was
earlier.]

GM: Somers now up and Orville backpedaling into the ropes... but here
comes Alvin from behind again!

BW: Better get the rest of the chipmunks out there to help you, Alvin!

GM: Stop that, Bucky... Dave Cooper, though, enters the ring himself and
spins Alvin around... kick to the midsection doubles him over.. off the
ropes and hits the roaring elbow!

[Marty Meekly orders Cooper out of the ring as Somers turns to grab
Alvin and toss him through the ropes, but the distraction allows Orville
to nail him from behind.]

GM: Orville able to take advantage... now he tries to whip Somers into
the ropes himself, but the big man holds his ground.

BW: And look at this... Somers just pulled Orville forward... he's
goozled him!

GM: And Somers wastes no time... chokeslam on Orville Anderson!

[The big man drags Orville back to his feet, reaching over to tag in
Cooper.]

GM: Somers sending Orville into the ropes... he hits his own back body
drop as Cooper runs off the ropes... kneedrop to the skull connects.

BW: Alvin trying to get in there... but Somers is right there to meet
him.

GM: A goozle... and another chokeslam! Alvin rolling out of the ring!

[Marty Meekly directs Somers out of the ring as Cooper sends Orville
into the ropes.]

GM: Dave Cooper with a spinebuster slam... he now turns Orville over and
locks on the STF!

BW: This is a painful submission hold, Gordon... very difficult to
escape and he's got Orville right in the center of the ring.

GM: Orville trying to hang on as Alvin Anderson is climbing onto the
apron...

[Alvin then ducks between the ropes, but too late, as Orville is
slapping his hand on the canvas.]

GM: There's the tap out! This one is over!

[Cooper releases the hold as Somers enters the ring to join his
partner.]

MC: The winners of the match, Rough N Ready!

[Both members of the tag team raise their hands and duck between the
ropes, Gordon gets up from his seat, as if expecting to talk to them,
but the two men go past Gordon and start heading to the back.]

GM: Rough N Ready notch another win here in the AWA... I was hoping to
get some words from them but it looks like they are just heading to the
back.

[One person does make her way to the broadcast table, and that's Sarah
Sharpe. Noticing Sarah, Gordon grabs a mic at the table.]

GM: Sarah Sharpe, your men emerge victorious once again... is there a
reason they aren't talking tonight?

SS: Right now, Gordon, there are several things on the minds of Dave and
Eric, so I apologize if they aren't in the mood to chat this evening.

BW: Not that we want to hear them blabber, anyway!

SS: Speaking of apologies, somebody should apologize to Gordon for being
in the same space as he is.

BW: Hey!

SS: But back to Rough N Ready... first of all, they heard what Hoff had
to say about the need for the Glamour Boyz to regroup, so it looks like
Hoff and his men haven't learned the lesson they should have learned at
Last Stampede. Well, the only thing I have to say is that if those two
want to continue causing problems for Rough N Ready, then Rough N Ready
will just have to solve them, this time for good.

GM: What about the tag team titles that are to be established here in
AWA... I take it Dave and Eric have their minds set on those titles.

SS: You better believe it, Gordon... the one thing Dave and Eric wanted
to prove is that, regardless of how many years they have logged in this
fine sport, that they still have what it takes to be the best tag team
AWA has to offer. We respect what Werewolf Gregorson and Despair have
done, we know that Kentucky's Finest is certainly worthy of being among
the finest, and the Russians may still be stuck in the 80's, but you
have to respect their ability. Even the Glamour Boyz, I'll admit it,
they gave us a run for the money. But what it comes down to is Rough N
Ready has that veteran expertise that has served them well through the
years and they expect it to continue to do so.

BW: Well, if I were you, Sarah, I wouldn't be talking about tag team
titles when you know that Hoff is the superior managerial mind and is
gonna have his Glamour Boyz ready for you again!

SS: Bucky, you can just tell Hoff this... if he's such a superior
managerial mind, he'd actually stop doing more harm than good for the
Glamour Boyz... namely the fact he tried to get those two a name at the
expense of my men. If Hoff wants to press any issues about managerial
minds, I have no problem dealing with it personally.

[With that, Sarah departs as well, heading to the back.]

GM:  Rough N Ready - looking to cash in for National Tag Team Title
gold.  And speaking of looking to cash in for gold, our National Title
match is up next so don't you go away!

[The shot holds on Gordon Myers as we fade to black...

...and then back up to a shot showing the logos of Pro Wrestling
Revolution, Sin City Wrestling, and Southern Championship Wrestling.]

"From Day One, the American Wrestling Alliance was determined to give
its fans the very best action available.  And on Day One, our video
library is officially open for business!"

[Cut to a closeup of the Sin City Wrestling logo.]

"Check out "High Profile" Darryl Styles on commentary.  See the Upper
Crust in action before they were the Upper Crust!"

[Now to the Southern Championship Wrestling logo.]

"Ricky Royal lit up the rings in SCW before he came to the AWA!  "Stars
and Stripes" Clayton Shaw was a SCW staple as well!"

[And then the PWR logo.]

"See Calisto Dufresne in action!  And don't forget the ever-dangerous
Kolya Sudakov!"

[Cut back to the wide shot of all three logos.]

"Events from all three promotions are available NOW exclusively through
the AWA website via DVD or download!  So, be the first on the block to
be an AWA expert and check out all of this great action today!"

[Fade to black...

...and then back up on the WKIK Studios where Gordon Myers and Bucky
Wilde are standing.]

GM:  Welcome back, fans.  It's Main Event time here on AWA Saturday
Night Wrestling and... well, Bucky... you've been waiting all night for
this.

BW:  I still can't believe what we saw last night in San Antonio, Gordo.
 Between Shaw and that guy and... what about the end when he jumped
over-

GM:  Would you stop?  Fans, believe me when I say - this is one of the
most intriguing Main Events in AWA history and... well, you won't want
to miss a second of it.  Check it out.

[The two men turn towards the television monitor which fills with a
mirror image of Myers and Wilde standing at ringside in the San Antonio
Civic Center.]

GM:  Ladies and gentlemen, at this time, please welcome the man who in
just a few moments will challenge Ron Houston for the AWA National
Championship - "The Hellion" Mark Shaw!

[For the first time, a chorus of boos greets Mark Shaw as he steps out
to the interview area.  Gordon Myers stands with microphone at the
ready, looking at Shaw with a neutral expression.]

GM:	The man joining me now is quite the controversial figure as of
late.  Mark Shaw, before we speak about your opportunity tonight, I
think it is time you address that controversy.  Mr. Shaw, do you have
anything to say about your actions regarding Adam Rogers?

MS:	What is there to say? I did what no one else had the courage to
do.  I did the thing that separates me from these people.  There's a
reason why all these people in the audience paid to see me and why no
one would ever do the same for them.

[A loud chorus of boos follows Shaw's words.]

MS:	I did what had to be done. I did what was necessary to win.  I
never hid who I was.  I never said anything different.

I am here to win the National Title. And if I have to step over Adam
Rogers to do it, so be it.  Come to think of it... there's no one in
this world I wouldn't step on to get that title.

So Ron Houston, as you're walking towards the ring tonight, you just
keep that in mind.

GM:	Speaking of Mr. Houston.  This will be your latest shot at his
National Title.  In your other previous attempts, you've fallen short. 
What makes you believe this time will be different?

[Shaw turns visibly read as he regards Myers, and there's a tense moment
as his fists clench.]

MS:	You trying to say something Myers?

GM:	Only the truth Mr. Shaw.

MS:	Fine.  You wanna play it that way?  Fine.  What's different this
time?  What's different is this.  Nothing is holding me back now. 
Nothing and no one is in my way.

I am the number one contender, because I earned it.

I am the very best the AWA has to offer.

And after tonight, I will be the National Champion.

And whether anyone likes it or not, that's just how it'll be.

Now, I'm done with you Myers, I got a title to win.

[As the audience continues to boo, Shaw walks up the ringsteps to step
into the ring and we cut to Melissa Cannon.]

MC:  The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a 60 minute
time limit and is for the AWA National Championship!

[Huge crowd cheer!]

MC:  Introducing first, he is the challenger... already in the ring at
this time... standing 6'2 and weighing in at 270 pounds... hailing from
Los Angeles, California... he is the number one contender to the
National Title...

He is the Hellion...

MARRRRRRRK SHAAAAAAAW!

[A surly Shaw simply ignores the jeering fans, leaning against the
turnbuckles with an angry expression on his face.][

MC:  And his opponent...

[Beck's "Farewell Ride" starts up to a huge roar from the San Antonio
crowd.]

MC:  Standing 6'7 and weighing in at 286 pounds... from Athens,
Georgia... he is the AWA National Champion...

THE ATHENS GEORGIA MADMAN...

RONNNN HOUUUUUUSTON!

[Houston comes stomping through the entrance curtain to a huge reaction,
the title belt slung over his shoulder as he walks towards the ring.]

GM:  Here comes the champion!  Fresh off a victory over a debuting Juan
Vasquez at The Last Stampede, he's looking to score another successful
title defense here tonight against the number one contender.

BW:  I don't know, Gordo.  Look at Shaw's face - his eyes - I've never
seen anyone so focused and determined.  After all the times that Shaw
has fallen short in winning this title, do you really think he's going
to fail again?

GM:  We're about to find out, I guess.

[Houston steps up the wooden ringsteps and into the ring, still clad in
his leather trenchcoat...

...when Mark Shaw barrels across the ring, ripping Houston's legs out
from under him with a charging double leg takedown that deposits the
champion down on the mat.]

GM:  Ohh!  Shaw attacks before the bell!

[The referee frantically calls for the bell to start the match as Shaw
rains down clenched fists on the National Champion.]

GM:  Mark Shaw is all over Ron Houston to start this one!

[Michael Meekly shouts at Shaw to get off of Houston, starting a five
count.]

GM:  Meekly with a count on Shaw-

[The Hellion springs up off of Houston, grabbing Meekly by the shirt
collar and shoving him back against the ropes, glaring at him.]

GM:  Whoa!  Whoa!  Hold on a second!  Don't do it, Mark!  

[Shaw cocks his fist back like he's about to flatten the official when
he suddenly finds himself pulled down to the canvas in a schoolboy
rollup!]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THR-

[The crowd groans with disappointment as Shaw slips a shoulder off the
mat just before the three count...

...and then BULLDOZES a rising Houston with a lunging clothesline that
knocks him flat!]

GM:  OHHHH!  What a clothesline by Mark Shaw!

[Seething with anger, Shaw snatches the fallen National Title belt off
the canvas and lifts it high into the air, staring down at the writhing
Ron Houston.]

BW:  That belt looks pretty good in his hands, Gordo.

GM:  Perhaps but it's not his just yet, Bucky.  Ron Houston is still the
National Champion.

BW:  For now.

GM:  We'll see about that.

[Shaw tosses the title belt back down to the mat as he drags a
recovering Ron Houston off the canvas and blasts him with a knife-edge
chop that knocks the champion back into the corner.]

GM:  Houston hasn't even gotten his jacket off yet, Bucky.  Mark Shaw
just came on like a house of fire and Ron Houston hasn't even recovered
from the initial attack yet.

[Grabbing Houston by the wrist, Shaw fires him across the ring.]

GM:  Big whip from corner to corner... here comes Shaw!

[A stampeding Mark Shaw smashes Houston against the buckles with a
running clothesline.]

GM:  Houston staggers out of the corner...

[Right into the waiting arms of Shaw who scoops Houston up into the
air...

...and slams him down hard on the canvas!]

GM:  Ohh!  Bodyslam by the challenger!

[Shaw immediately starts stomping the downed Houston, forcing him to
roll under the ropes and out to the concrete floor.]

GM:  Shaw forces him out to the floor...

BW:  He's going out after him too!

[The Hellion steps out on the apron, soaking up the jeers of the fans as
he looks down on Houston, waiting for him to get back to his feet...

...jeers that quickly turn to cheers as "The Natural" Adam Rogers
appears in the aisle, making his way down to the ring.]

GM:  Adam Rogers is in the building - and he's heading to ringside!

BW:  What business does he have out here, Gordo?

GM:  He's the next man to challenge for the title!  And he may do it
tonight!  He threatened to challenge Mark Shaw for the title as soon as
he wins it!  We may be in store for two title matches here tonight,
Bucky!

[Dressed in his ring gear, Rogers reaches the ringside area just as Shaw
leaps off the apron, smashing down with a double axehandle smash to the
back of Houston's head.]

GM:  Ohh!  

[Shaw stands over the downed Houston, firing off a few choice words in
the direction of Adam Rogers who ignores the big man, shouting words of
encouragement to the downed National Champion.]

GM:  Rogers is trying to rally Ron Houston - trying to get him back to
his feet to fight off the challenge of Mark Shaw.

[Sneering at Rogers, Shaw drags Houston off the floor by the hair...

...and promptly catches a right hand hard to the underside of his chin,
snapping his head back!]

GM:  What a shot by Houston!

[The National Champion grabs Shaw by the head...

...and promptly hurls him into the wooden ringsteps, knocking the steps
over!]

GM:  OHHHHH!  INTO THE STAIRS!

[With the crowd cheering wildly, Houston rolls Shaw back under the ropes
into the ring...

...and the cheers turn to a confused buzz just as quickly.]

GM:  What the- 

BW:  Who is that?

GM:  No idea.

[From the locker room area emerges a mysterious man dressed in a black
cloak with a hood draped over his head to hide his identity from the
masses.]

GM:  We've got someone else on their way out here.  Ron Houston has
spotted him and he looks absolutely puzzled.  Who in the world is this,
Bucky?

BW:  I asked you first!

[Inside the ring, Houston drags Shaw off the mat by the hair, grabbing
his arm for a whip...

...a whip that Shaw easily reverses.]

GM:  Houston off the far side...

[The big cowboy gets scooped up into the air as Shaw spins quickly...

...and DRIVES Houston into the canvas!]

GM:  POWERSLAM!  WHAT A POWERSLAM!

[Shaw pushes up off the downed Houston, glaring out to ringside where
his eyes rest on the hooded individual.  He holds his gaze for a moment
and then nods his head, climbing to his feet before he reaches down to
drag Houston off the canvas again.]

GM:  Another whip...

[Shaw drops down in a three point stance...

...and charges forward, aiming a clothesline directly at the throat of
the National Champion.]

GM:  Clothesli- ducked by Houston!  

[Houston quickly ducks down again, this time hoisting Shaw up onto his
shoulders in a fireman's carry.]

GM:  FADE TO BLACK!  FADE TO BLACK COMING UP!

[The National Champion executes the airplane spin, round and round and
round...

...but before he can swing Shaw out into the faceslam, Shaw manages to
wriggle free, landing on his feet behind his opponent.]

GM:  Shaw escapes!

[And promptly hooks his arms around the waist of Ron Houston from the
side to the concern of the San Antonio Civic Center crowd.]

GM: He's got Houston hooked!  Here it comes!

[The crowd gasps as Shaw hoists Houston into the air, dumping him down
on the back of his head and neck.]

GM:  BACKDROP DRIVER!  THAT'LL DO IT!

BW:  We've got a new National Champion!

GM:  Shaw with the cover!  ONE!!  TWO!!!  THREEEEEEE!!!

[Shaw springs up off of Houston, throwing his arms in the air in
triumph...

...but Michael Meekly has his arms in the air as well, waving off the
pin.]

BW:  What the-?!

GM:  Foot on the ropes!  Houston got a foot on the ropes!

[Shaw turns around with his arms still raised, only to find Meekly
shaking him off.  A look of confusion crosses the face of the Hellion as
Meekly tries to explain.]

GM:  Mark Shaw thought he had it won - he thought he was the new
National Champion.

BW:  I think we all did.

GM:  But he made a mistake.  He dropped Houston with that Backdrop
Driver but they were too close to the ropes.  They were too close to the
ropes and that allowed Ron Houston to get his foot on the ropes and
break up the pinfall!

BW:  Shaw's in shock.

[Shaking his head in disbelief, Shaw approaches Meekly slowly - the
referee backpedaling to escape...

...but the Hellion grabs him by the shirt, screaming at him.]

"I'M THE CHAMPION!  I'M THE CHAMPION!"

[Meekly shakes his head, denying the charge...

...and gets thrown down to the mat by his shirt for his words.  Meekly
frantically rolls from the ring, waving at the timekeeper who
predictably...]


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


[The crowd explodes in a mixed reaction as a wide-eyed Mark Shaw kicks
the ropes in frustration.]

MC:  Ladies and gentlemen... your winner of the match as a result of a
disqualification...

And STILL AWA National Champion...

RONNNNN HOUUUUUUSTON!

[The crowd cheers the announcement of Houston as the champion as an
irate Mark Shaw drops down to the mat, rolling under the ropes to the
floor.  The mysterious hooded man looks on in silence as Shaw approaches
the ringside barricade.]

GM:  Shaw's out on the floor.  He's failed to win the National Title yet
again and I think he's-

[A buzz washes over the crowd as Shaw reaches over the barricade.]

GM:  What the-

BW:  He's got a chair, Gordo!

GM:  I can see that!  Mark Shaw has a steel chair!  We need to get some
help out here - we need to stop this!

[Shaw rolls back into the ring, steel chair in hand...

...and finds himself face to face with Adam Rogers who shakes his head
at Shaw, blocking his path to the roars of the crowd.]

GM:  Adam Rogers has blocked him!  He's standing in Shaw's way!

BW:  That guy's nuts.  Shaw's got a chair!  Rogers is unarmed -
completely unarmed!  Shaw's going to cave his skull in, daddy!

GM:  Adam Rogers showing the bravery that makes him a hero to these
people has put himself in between a helpless Ron Houston and a steel
chair-wielding psychopath!

[The staredown ensues for a moment, flashbulbs popping throughout the
arena...

...when Shaw suddenly rears the chair back, charging forward.]

GM:  NOOOOOO!

[A wild swing of the chair is ducked by Rogers who cocks back his fist
and fires a right hand into the side of Shaw's head... and then
another... and then a third which makes Shaw drop the chair.]

GM:  Rogers is fighting him off and-

[The crowd roars as Rogers hits a discus punch that causes Shaw to fall
through the ropes and out to the floor!]

GM:  Oh yeah!  The Natural chases him off!  Mark Shaw has been sent
scattering from the ring and Adam Rogers has saved Ron Houston from
severe injury.

[Rogers stands near the ropes, challenging Shaw to get back into the
ring.  A fired-up Hellion seems certain to do so but a hand on his
shoulder from the mysterious man in black seems to stop him.]

GM:  I don't get this at all.  This guy... this man in black seems to
have some kind of control over Mark Shaw, Bucky.

BW:  Rogers should slip that guy twenty bucks because he may have saved
his career, Gordo.

GM:  You may be right.  He certainly is keeping Mark Shaw at bay.

[The Natural stares at Shaw as he slowly backs down the aisle, leaving
Rogers and Houston inside the ring.  The former World Champion backs
away as well, dropping to a knee to check on a recovering Ron Houston.]

GM:  Rogers is checking on his ally and friend, Ron Houston, who took
that hellacious Backdrop Driver a few moments ago.  Houston escapes with
his title... but just barely...

BW:  We should have a new National Champion, Gordo.  Mark Shaw should be
the champion right now.  He should be-

[Inside the ring, Rogers has just managed to get Houston to his feet...

...when suddenly Mark Shaw charges down the aisle, diving headfirst
under the ropes into the ring, scooping up the steel chair...]




"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"



[The crowd falls silent as the steel chair slams down hard over the
skull of Adam Rogers, knocking him completely flat from the impact as
the Hellion stands over him, dented chair in hand.]

GM:  My god... my god in heaven.  Did you see that?

BW:  See it?  I heard it!  He caved in Adam Rogers' skull - just like I
said he would!

[The boos grow in volume as Shaw stares at the motionless Rogers, still
gripping the steel chair in his hands...

...and then turns towards the fallen Ron Houston who is leaning against
the turnbuckles.]

GM:  Oh no.

BW:  Shaw's not done!  He's not done!

GM:  He's turning his attention to Ron Houston now!

[Shaw steps towards Houston, pointing the dented steel chair directly at
the National Champion.]

GM:  The National Champion is defenseless!  The National Champion is in
serious trouble here!

BW:  Rogers is out, Gordo.  Houston's got no one to help him now!  He's
got absolutely no one to help him fight off Mark Shaw - the Hellion!  

GM:  Houston's got a hand up - that won't fend off a steel chair though.

[Down on the mat, the National Champion has his hands up, weakly trying
to defend himself from the steel chair blow coming in his direction.]

GM:  Houston's down.  Houston's out.  Rogers is out as well.  There's
got to be someone who can stop this maniac!  There's got to be someone
who can-

BW:  Look out, Gordo!

[Mark Shaw raises the chair all the way over his head, rearing back with
both hands for the shot that will likely put Ron Houston in the
hospital...

...when a strong buzz erupts from the San Antonio Civic Center crowd as
someone in a suit hurdles the ringside barricade, diving headfirst under
the bottom rope and springing to their feet, striking a defensive pose
between Houston and the suddenly-stunned Mark Shaw.]

GM:  Wait a second!  Is that-?!

[The crowd responds with an absolutely shocked reaction as everyone
finally can see who is standing in defense of Ron Houston.

Perhaps the last person who you would expect to stand in defense of Ron
Houston.

A man last seen on AWA television being defeated by Ron Houston.

For the National Title.]

GM:  BROUSSARD?!  MARCUS BROUSSARD IS IN THE RING!

BW:  I don't- I don't understand!

GM:  The San Jose Shark- isn't he still suspended?!

[Broussard holds his ground as Mark Shaw stands shocked, trying to
figure out what to do next...

...when a hand on the shoulder from the man in black causes Shaw to drop
the chair and exit the ring with his advisor.]

GM:  Shaw's backing down!  Marcus Broussard is on the scene and Mark
Shaw is backing down from him!

BW:  Wait a second... did Marcus Broussard just SAVE Ron Houston?!

GM:  I don't believe it.  I can't believe it.  What did we just see?

[With Shaw out of the ring, backing down the aisle, Broussard turns
around just as Ron Houston regains his feet...

...and the staredown ensues.]

GM:  Broussard and Houston!  Eye to eye!  Nose to nose!  What is going
to happen here?

[And with the former and current National Champions staring each other
down...

...we fade to black.]