Memorial Day Mayhem

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                           American Wrestling Alliance
                                 Proudly Presents
                            Memorial Day Mayhem

                         Live from the Arena Theatre
                                Houston, Texas
                                  May 25, 2009
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[As the closing notes to the Andy Griffith Show theme fade into nothing,
it is replaced with a shot of the American flag flapping in the breeze
outside of the Arena Theatre.  The voice of Gordon Myers is heard.]

"Francis Marion Crawford once said... 'They fell, but o'er their
glorious grave floats free the banner of the cause they died to save.'

On this Memorial Day, we proudly send our thoughts and our prayers to
the memories of those who have died for their country and to the loved
ones they left behind."

[A silent moment, still holding on the flag...

...and then we fade through black to a shot of the interior of the Arena
Theatre with a graphic reading, "Memorial Day Mayhem - Arena Theatre -
Houston, Texas.  The crowd is roaring as we get our first look at the
capacity crowd of just under 3,000.  The camera pans over the cheering
fans, showing people of all sizes, shapes, colors, and ages screaming
their lungs out for Memorial Day Mayhem.

With the fans still cheering, the camera continues to pan, showing the
standard AWA ring camped out in the middle of the Arena Theatre's unique
"theater in the round" style setup.  The ring sits atop a raised
circular stage in the middle of the arena with a level of floor seating
and an upper deck surrounding it.  There is no room for barricades so
the AWA has invested in some rope to keep the front row fans at bay. 
One of the aisles has been roped off to allow entry from the locker room
area.

The shot cuts to a ringside "pit" section near the stage where we find
Gordon Myers in a spiffy black tux for the occasion.  He is all smiles
as the camera hits him for the first time of the night.]

GM:  Good evening, fans, and welcome to the historic Arena Theatre in
Houston, Texas!  We are LIVE for the next two and a half hours here on
WKIK as we bring you Memorial Day Mayhem!  Tonight, we've got three big
matches including Raphael Rhodes vs Juan Vasquez... the Bishop Boys vs
Rough N Ready... and the National Champion, Kolya Sudakov, putting the
gold on the line against an opponent still to be announced.  In addition
to that, of course, we've got the HUGE 30 man Invitational Rumble.  30
men will walk the aisle to the ring but only one of those men can win
the Rumble.  And if you win the Rumble, you also win a shot at the
National Title on the 4th of July!  Big stakes for that one for sure.  

[The crowd explodes in a mixed reaction behind Gordon.]

GM:  You can hear the fans react, I'm sure.  Conspicuous by his absence,
Bucky Wilde has insisted he get to kick off tonight's show from inside
the ring so that he can address the crowd.  As you all know, only
twenty-six of the thirty men who will compete in the Rumble have been
announced so far.  Four names remain a mystery until right about now as
Bucky Wilde has promised he will reveal one of those four names right
here and now.  

[Gordon casts a glance over his shoulder.]

GM:  And it appears that my broadcast colleague is ready so let's go up
to the ring for a Memorial Day Mayhem edition of Call Of The Wilde!

[We dissolve to the ring where Bucky Wilde is clad in an absolutely
hideous yellow sportcoat with his name bedazzled across the back of it. 
His orange slacks don't seem to match but we're not sure he'd ever
notice.  He's got the house mic though and I'd guess he's not afraid to
use it.]

BW:  Welcome Houston, Texas... to the CAAAAALLLLL OF THE WIIIIILLLLDE!

[There's an expected mixed reaction to that.]

BW:  I, of course, am your host who needs no introduction...

[But he's going to do one anyways.]

BW:  I am the Announcer Of The Mid Year for 2008.  I am the Announcer Of
The Year for 2008.  And the number of accolades I achieved as a former
wrestler and manager would stagger an elephant.

[Pause for dramatic effect.]

BW:  I am... BUCKY WILDE!

[Another mixed reaction.]

BW:  Thank you!  Thank you all so much!

[Wilde beams at the crowd as he looks out over them.]

BW:  When I came up with the idea for the Call Of The Wilde, I told you
all that I'd ONLY come out here and do it when I had the big news to
announce... when I had the biggest bombshells to drop.  Last time I came
out here, I introduced the debuting Shane Destiny to the world - the
biggest Free Agent signing in AWA history and one of the odds on
favorite to win the Rumble later tonight.

[Wilde nods his head, confident in his own assessment.]

BW:  And tonight, I'm out here to make headlines once again.  Two weeks
ago, I told the world that I'd come out here and reveal one of these
so-called mystery men that will enter the Rumble tonight.  Four entries
we don't know... until now.

Make it three, people!   Cause Bucky's got the scoop!

[Another big smile at the slightly-larger amount of cheers.]

BW:  This man phoned me two weeks ago and said that he had something to
say to the AWA - to the fans, to the wrestlers, to the world.  And he
said that I was the only one he trusted to get him that chance.

Well, when "Big Bucks" promises... "Big Bucks" delivers.  

This man... he and I haven't always seen eye to eye.  But he's changed. 
And I like his attitude these days.  I've seen the future and this man
is going places once again.

[Feel the hype!]

BW:  Ladies and gentlemen... the twenty-seventh announced name for
tonight's Rumble... he is a former two-time World Heavyweight
Champion...

He is... "SUPERSTAR"...

[Dramatic pause.]

BW:  KEVIN SLATER!

[The crowd reacts with shock as "Rock Superstar" by Cypress Hill starts
up over the PA system.  Bucky Wilde jigs back and forth to the music, a
huge grin on his face at the crowd's reaction.  

After a moment, Kevin Slater walks into his AWA arena once again for the
first time in months.  Slater doesn't look like the Kevin Slater we're
used to seeing though.  He's dressed in a stylish black suit, a bright
gold chain hanging around his neck.  Sunglasses are on his face as he
steps into view.  He places his hands on his hips, looking back and
forth at the crowd before making his way down the aisle towards the
ring.

Slater very obviously is trying to avoid the fans, pulling his arms
close to his body to avoid the high-fives of the aisle-side crowd as he
heads towards the ring.  The former "Wild Thing" steps up the ringsteps,
climbing through the ropes.

He strides out to the center of the ring, accepting a handshake from
Bucky Wilde which brings even more boos from the AWA fans as Slater
looks out at them from behind the sunglass-covered eyes.]

BW:  Kevin Slater, welcome back to the AWA!

[More boos from the crowd.]

KS:  Bucky, it's a pleasure to be here with you.  I just wish I could
say the same about the rest of these miscreants in the building tonight.

[More boos!]

BW:  Kevin, it's been months since we've seen you in the AWA.  If I
recall correctly, weren't you in a contract holdout?  Your agent...

[Slater lifts a hand to interrupt.]

KS:  My agent is no longer an issue, Bucky.  I found that if I handled
my own negotiations, I got EXACTLY what I wanted.

BW:  And what was that?

KS:  I got my return to the AWA tonight on the biggest night of the year
so far.  I got my return to kick off the show with the entire wrestling
world watching.  I got my return here with the Announcer Of The Year.

[Bucky grins.]

KS:  And most importantly, I got my return to action TONIGHT in the
Rumble as one of thirty men going for a shot at the National Title.  And
as a man who is a former two-time World Champion... I'm right where I
belong.

[More boos from the capacity crowd.]

BW:  Kev, you know I've got to ask the question.  The last time we saw
you in an AWA ring, you took it to your former friend, Bobby Taylor,
after his brutal match with Grant Stone.  That was several months ago
now but I'm sure everyone still wants to know why.

[Slater nods his head.]

KS:  Of course, of course.  Why wouldn't everyone want to know why I
FINALLY wisened up and put that piece of trash Taylor in his place?

You know why, Bucky?

[The announcer shakes his head.]

KS:  The story goes back years, Bucky.  Years!  It goes back to the late
90's in Los Angeles when I was on top of the wrestling world.  It goes
back to the Cult of Personality.

Slater, Taylor, Myers, and Steele.  We were going head-to-head with the
Syndicate and making all the headlines...

[Slater pauses.]

KS:  But like all things in this business, all good things must come to
an end.  And when the CoP went down... we went down in flames.  The
group crashed and burned.

And I went right along with it. 

Everyone knows my story, Bucky.  Pills, booze... the bad stuff.  I had
my demons and time and again, I let them win.  I had my shots to get
back but everytime, I lost them at the bottom of a bottle.

[The crowd hushes a bit at Slater's emotions.]

KS:  My friends... my family... they tried at first.  But I kept pushing
them all away.  And in the end, I was all alone.

Some people would say that's what I deserved, Bucky.

[Slater nods his head...

...then whips the sunglasses off, throwing them down.]

KS:  BUT NOT ME!

I _DESERVED_ better, Bucky!  I _DESERVED_ to have the friends and family
by my side to help me get through it.  I _DESERVED_ to have these people
who said they loved me to prove it!

But that's not what I got, Bucky.  Not in the slightest.

[Slater hushes a bit.]

KS:  So, I stood alone... I fought alone... and I got better.  I worked
my way back.  I got clean and sober and I wanted to get back to the
business I loved.  I wanted to become the man again who won two World
Titles in Los Angeles.

But no one would give me a chance.  

I had "a reputation."  I was the guy who couldn't be counted on.  Who
would "flake out" and disappear when he was needed.  I was a ticking
time bomb to those people... it was just a matter of when I'd explode.

[Slater pauses.]

KS:  Then the AWA came around... and I made an appeal to the men who
were supposed to be my friends.  "Give me one more shot.  Let me prove
that I've changed."

[Slater nods.]

KS:  And it took a while... weeks of begging... pleading... of
humiliating myself so they could get a cheap thrill out of watching a
FORMER TWO-TIME WORLD CHAMPION on his knees begging for a job.

But they gave me the job.  They needed some name value to sell some
tickets.  They wanted me to be the "Wild Thing" that I always was.  They
wanted the old Kevin Slater.

But the old Kevin Slater is dead and buried.  The "Wild Thing" is dead
and buried.

[Slater leans over, picking his glasses back up before continuing.]

KS:  They wouldn't listen to me though.  So I MADE them listen to me.

I came up with a plan... a way to find out who my TRUE friends were in
this business.  A way to pay back every single one of the people who
betrayed me and left me for dead.

A bounty.

[Slater chuckles.]

KS:  It seemed so simple.  Put a bounty on myself and see who would step
up to help me... who would walk away... and who would step up to try and
collect.

It wasn't a shock.  Myers?  Nowhere to be seen.

Steele?  Sure, he showed up.  But he's always needed an extra paycheck. 
I was a red carpet in the door to a place that didn't want him to begin
with.

My "loving" fiancee?  Gone.  Couldn't handle the new me.

And then there was Bobby...

[Slater smirks.]

KS:  Bobby was "too busy" to help me.  Bobby was a suit now.  He'd hung
up his boots.  He... couldn't have the conflict of interest.

Until Shane stepped up to try to defend me.

[Slater shakes his head.]

KS:  I have to admit.  I didn't expect that one.  I was a little sad to
see him get crushed too but... 

[He shrugs.]

KS:  But in the end, it was all a means to an end.  By that point, I had
one thing left to find out for sure before I could tell the world who I
really was...

Where did YOU stand, Bobby?

[The crowd buzzes with confusion.]

KS:  I knew where everyone else stood... but what about you, Bobby?  

Grant Stone was the key.  He wanted to draw you out... the real you...
as badly as I did.  He was an easy pawn to move around the board too. 
Toss him some cash, watch him bust up some people, and eventually... he
got to you.

You didn't care when I got hurt.

You didn't care when Steele got hurt.

You didn't even care really when Shane got hurt.

[Slater pauses.]

KS:  In the end, it was only when your ego got hurt... your precious
reputation got hurt... that's when you cared.  And that's when you
stepped up to take your shot at Stone.

And that's when my opportunity presented myself.  My chance to expose
myself.  To expose you.  And to show the world the truth of what was
going on in front of their very eyes.

So, I took my shot.  I took my chance.  And I put you out.

[Slater stops, the crowd booing, as Bucky Wilde finally speaks again.]

BW:  Kev, are you... are you saying that YOU were The Man With The
Money?

[Slater smirks.]

KS:  Bucky, Bucky, Bucky... I'm surprised there was ever any question at
all.  I mean... you know the people who work here.  You know that most
of these guys have squirreled around the independent circuit for years,
not making a dime.

Who else but a former two-time World Champion could afford to put that
bounty out there?  Who else but a former two-time World Champion could
have the cash to draw people here to the AWA to come after... me?

Who else... but a Superstar?

[Slater grins at the jeering crowd as he puts his sunglasses back on.]

BW:  Kevin, this has been... wow.  Any parting thoughts?

KS:  Bucky, I want to thank you for giving me the chance to enlighten
all of these morons in the crowd who betrayed me just like my so-called
friends did.

And to show my gratitude, when I win the Rumble tonight, I'm going to
give YOU an exclusive interview with me... "Superstar" Kevin Slater...
the next AWA National Champion!

[And with that, the Cypress Hill song starts back and Kevin Slater makes
his exit from the ring to the deafening jeers of the Houston crowd.]

GM:  Fans, can you believe ANY of what we just saw?  Kevin Slater is
back.  Kevin Slater is the 27th name announced for the Rumble?  Kevin
Slater was The Man With The Money all along?  Unbelievable.  Fans, don't
you dare go away - our opening match is next!

[The shot holds on the exiting Kevin Slater for a bit before fading 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 fade back to live action to the ringside announce area where
Bucky Wilde has joined his partner.]

GM:  Welcome back, fans, to Memorial Day May-

BW:  How 'bout that, Gordo?  How's that for breaking news?  How's that
for the scoop?

GM:  It's certainly impressive, Bucky.  I have to admit, I had my doubts
about whether you had the big story or not but you certainly delivered
and I am still absolutely shocked by what we heard from "Wild- err,
"Superstar" Kevin Slater.

BW:  That's right.  I delivered and I delivered big time!  That's why
I'm the Announcer of the Year, daddy!

GM:  It certainly kicked off this show in a big way... and speaking of
which, in just moments, we're going to see our first match of the night.
 In tag team action, the AWA veteran team of Rough N Ready meets their
latest challenge, the Bishop Boys.  Both of these teams have two points
- only needing one more to earn a shot at the National Tag Team Titles
currently held by Kentucky's Pride - but to get that point, they're
going to have to go through each other.

BW:  The Bishop Boys have taken the AWA by storm, simply overwhelming
everyone that's gotten in their path... but Rough N Ready, one of my
least favorite teams, has shown a lot of staying power over the past
year, fending off assaults by the Glamour Boys and the War Pigs.  

GM:  Two very tough tag teams for sure.  In fact, many have questioned
why Rough N Ready has yet to receive a shot at the titles after such an
impressive year of action but that may all be about to change.  The
question is - can they get past the unpredictable Bishop Boys?  

BW:  If I were a betting man - and I am - the money to my bookie Jackie
went on the Bishops.

GM:  If you were a... give me a break.  Fans, let's go up to Melissa for
our opening matchup!

[We cut to the ring where Melissa Cannon is already standing.]

MC:  Ladies and gentlemen... WELCOME... to Memorial Day Mayhem!

[Big cheers from the Houston crowd.]

MC:  This is our opening contest and it is a tag team match scheduled
for one fall with a twenty minute time limit.  The winning team will
receive their third point of title contention and will earn a future
title shot at the National Tag Team Champions, Kentucky's Pride.

Introducing first...

["Trashville" by Hank Williams III plays as Duane Henry Bishop comes
stomping out of the entryway with a nasty snarl on his face, pounding
his taped fists together.] 

MC:  At a total combined weight of 568 pounds... from Kingsland,
Arkansas... they are accompanied to the ring by Cousin Bo... they are
Cletus Lee Bishop and Duane Henry Bishop...

THE BISHOP BOYS!

[Duane Henry stomps down the aisle towards the ring, threatening to
backhand anyone who tries to touch him. Cousin Bo follows with a big
smile on his face, gesturing towards the back. Cletus Lee Bishop slowly
stalks his way from behind the curtain, staring maniacally aroundat the
audience. Cletus Lee pulls at his beard as Bo assuringly pats him on the
back. Duane Henry slides into the ring, and raises his arms to the
jeering crowd. Cletus Lee slowly makes his way down, looking as if he's
going to snap on the yelling, taunting fans. Cletus Lee climbs the ring
steps as Cousin Bo takes his place at ringside, and strides over the top
rope.]

GM:  Good grief, these two are on the verge of snapping at just any
moments, Bucky.

BW:  That's why they got my money on them, Gordo.

GM:  Look at the size of Cletus Lee!  6'9, 328 pounds and as strong as
an ox and then some.  I don't think anyone has even come close to
knocking him off his feet yet.

[Cletus Lee leans over the ropes, glaring at a few ringside fans.  Clad
in a scuffed-up wifebeater and beat-up black jeans, Cletus Lee is
encouraged to get back into the ring by Cousin Bo who grins excitedly at
his crazed charges.]

MC:  And their opponents...

[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.]

MC:  From Albuquerque, New Mexico... at a combined weight of 615
pounds... accompanied to the ring by their manager Sarah Sharpe...

ROUGH!  N!  READY!

[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.

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...

...where the Bishop Boys are waiting!]

GM:  Here we go!  Here we go!

[The referee calls for the bell to officially start the match as the
entering Dave Cooper is greeted by an onslaught of blows from Cletus Lee
and Duane Henry!]

GM:  The Bishop Boys are all over Dave Cooper from the outset!

[Eric Matthew Somers steps into the ring as well, reaching and grabbing
Duane Henry by the head...

...and SLAMMING his face into the nearest set of turnbuckles!]

GM:  This one may not be much of a wrestling match, Bucky - this one
looks like a fight.

BW:  The Bishop Boys are going to be looking for a fight.  Pure and
simple.  They've got no desire to trade hammerlocks or leg scissors.

GM:  Cooper and Cletus Lee are trading blows but I can't imagine that's
going to end well for the veteran Cooper, Bucky.

[A barrage of hard right hands from the 6'8 Cletus Lee batters Cooper
back against the ropes.  A quick whip sends Cooper sailing across the
ring which allows Cletus to charge towards him, lifting his leg.]

GM:  CHARGING BIG BOO- OHHH!  COOPER ROLLS UNDER!

[The crowd breathes a collective sigh of relief as Dave Cooper avoids
the sprinting kick with a front somersault roll, popping back to his
feet to deliver a hooking right hand into the ribcage of Duane Henry,
allowing Eric Matthew Somers to connect with a headbutt that knocks
Henry down to the canvas.]

GM:  All four men are tangling inside the ring.  The referee needs to
establish some control in there and he needs to do it right away before
this gets even more chaotic.

[With Duane Henry down, Cooper and Somers move towards Cletus Lee...

...who shows no fear or sense as he charges both members of Rough N
Ready, arms flailing round and round as he tries to connect on both
men.]

GM:  Look at this lunatic!

[The crowd roars as Cletus' blows actually manage to land, knocking
Cooper back to the ropes...

...but the big 6'9 Eric Matthew Somers lunges forward, hooking both
hands around the throat of the oncoming Cletus Lee.]

GM:  He's got Cletus Lee!

BW:  Choke!  That's a choke!

[The crowd roars as Somers attempts to hoist Lee into the air by the
throat...

...but a rising knee to the gut cuts off Somers' attempt.  Seizing the
moment, Duane Henry races to the far ropes, rebounding back towards his
partner who ducks down, backdropping Henry into the air, and sending him
crashing down onto Somers, a move that takes them both down to the
canvas!]

GM:  OHHH!  Cletus Lee backdropped his brother right on top of Somers!

BW:  It's beautiful!  These two are nuts - they just don't care, Gordo. 
Duane Henry would break his own body in half if it means doing some
damage to the other guy.

[A protesting official steps in, somehow managing (with Cousin Bo's aid)
to get Cletus Lee to step back out to the apron.  Dave Cooper does the
same on the other side of the ring as Duane Henry dives on the downed
Somers, wrapping his hands around Somers' throat.]

GM:  And a choke by the Bishops now, strangling Eric Matthew Somers down
on the mat.  That's illegal, ref - get in there.

BW:  What?  Now you're complaining on the choke?

GM:  Henry breaks the choke at the count of four - now stomping Somers
into the canvas. 

[Backing up, Duane Henry clenches his fist, leaping into the air to
drive it down on the skull of Somers.]

GM:  Fistdrop right there and there's been nothing fancy out of the
Bishops so far... just going right in there and taking it to the
veterans Rough N Ready.

BW:  This is the perfect gameplan so far for the Bishops.  They take
Somers off his feet and work him over down there.  

[Henry quickly moves to the corner, popping up on the middle rope...]

GM:  The 240 pounder is measuring Somers... the big man to a knee...

[Leaping from the midbuckle, Henry crashes down with a double axehandle
across the skull of Somers, knocking him back down to the canvas...

...where he immediately dives on him with a choke yet again.]

GM:  Come on, ref!  There's a three... four... fi- just barely breaks in
time and- look out!

[The crowd buzzes as a wild-eyed Duane Henry storms towards the ref,
backing him to a neutral corner where the protesting referee threatens
Henry with a DQ.  Cousin Bo immediately leaps up on the apron, shouting
to his charge to back away.  Outside the ring, Sarah Sharpe shouts a few
words of encouragement to Somers... and draws a few harsh words from
Cousin Bo in the process.]

GM:  Hey now... he shouldn't be talking to a lady like that.

BW:  Did I miss something?  When did a lady come out here?

GM:  Would you stop?

[Duane Henry walks away from the cornered official towards Eric Matthew
Somers who has regained his feet and is moving towards his corner where
Dave Cooper has his hand outstretched.]

GM:  Somers is looking for a tag and- 

[But Henry grabs him by the back of the tights, pulling him into a side
waistlock.]

GM:  Are you kidding me?

BW:  I don't think he can...

GM:  I'm sure of it!

[A struggling and straining Duane Henry tries to hoist Eric Matthew
Somers off the mat in a suplex...

...but a hard elbow smashes down into the back of Henry's skull to break
his grip.  Somers grabs Henry by the back of the head, lifting his own
leg up, and SLAMMING Henry's face down onto Somers' knee as he slams his
foot down to the mat.]

GM:  Ohhh!  That'll put Duane Henry down!

[The move causes Henry to hit the mat, freeing Somers to stagger across
the ring and slap the hand of Dave Cooper, bringing the veteran racing
into the ring.]

GM:  Over 40 years old, Dave Cooper is one of the elder statesmen here
in the AWA.

[Cooper rushes in and promptly leaps into the air, dropping a knee down
on the skull of Duane Henry!]

GM:  Ohhh!  Big kneedrop by Cooper!  There's a cover for one!  Two!  No!
 We've seen that kneedrop before, Bucky.  That kneedrop is the second
half of Rough Housing which has put down opponent after opponent after
opponent here in the AWA over the past year.

BW:  But without the big slam by Somers, it wasn't enough to keep Duane
Henry down for a three count.

GM:  You've got that right.  Cooper drags Duane Henry to his feet,
whipping him into the corner... and a big clothesline keeps Henry in the
buckles!

[Cooper promptly leaps up to the middle rope, pumping a fist to the
cheers of the crowd...

...and starts lowering the boom.]

GM:  One!  Two!  Three!  Four!  Five!  Six!  Seven!  Eight!  Nine!  Ten!

[The barrage of clenched fists connect, allowing Cooper to leap down to
the mat.  He grabs the arm of Duane Henry, whipping him to the other
neutral corner.]

GM:  Here comes Cooper again!

[A rushing clothesline comes up empty as Duane Henry dives out of the
way, causing Cooper to smash chestfirst into the corner.  Henry crawls
as quickly as he can, LUNGING to slap the hand of his massive brother.]

GM:  Uh oh!

BW:  CLETUS LEE IS IN!

GM:  Dave Cooper needs to get out of there and get out of there right
now.

[With Cooper clutching his ribs from his charge to the corner, Cletus
Lee snatches him up to his feet, promptly shoving him high into the air
with a gorilla press...

...and then drops him down across his own bent knee!]

GM:  OHHHH!

BW:  That's it!  That'll end it right there!

GM:  Cletus Lee makes the cover, the ref down to count... ONE!!  TWO!! 
TH- SHOULDER UP!

[Cletus Lee glares a hole straight through the official who holds up two
fingers, showing it was only a two count.  With Cooper down on the mat,
Cletus Lee hooks him around the neck...

...and drives his own skull down on Cooper's.]

GM:  Ohh!  Grounded headbutt by Cletus Lee!

BW:  And again!  And again!

[The crowd jeers as Cletus Lee delivers crushing headbutt after headbutt
to the downed Cooper, finally stopping after six and making another pin
attempt.]

GM:  One!  Two!  Thr- shoulder up again!

BW:  This just goes to show how important that shot at the National Tag
Team Titles is to both of these teams, Gordo.  The crazed, lunatic
Bishop Boys are actually trying to win a match instead of just punishing
people.

GM:  And Dave Cooper of Rough N Ready is showing great resiliency so far
in this one as well.  They want that tag title shot just as badly as the
Bishops do.  And don't forget, Rough N Ready is also scheduled to
compete later tonight in the Rumble match itself!

BW:  If they survive.

GM:  And if they are unable to compete, that's why the AWA has assigned
Mike Anderson and Mark Adams to be alternates here tonight, Bucky.

BW:  They'd better be warming up cause Cooper's about to have his skull
caved in.

[Getting up to his feet, Cletus Lee drags Dave Cooper up as well,
pulling him into a knee lift to the gut.  With Cooper doubled over, the
big man hits the ropes...

...and OBLITERATES Cooper with a running kneelift that knocks him off
his feet and down to the canvas.]

GM:  Good grief!  What a shot by Cletus Lee!

[Cletus Lee starts to go for another cover but Cousin Bo shouts him off,
screaming some other instructions.  After a bit, Cletus Lee nods, moving
to pull Cooper off the mat.  Outside the ring, Cousin Bo shouts a few
choice words in Sarah Sharpe's direction again.]

GM:  Come on, Bo!  Leave her alone!

BW:  She can't take the heat - she should get her tail back in the
kitchen, daddy!

GM:  Cletus Lee pulls Cooper up... I'm not sure what he's going to... oh
no.

[The crowd starts to buzz as Cletus Lee pulls Cooper into a standing
headscissors.]

GM:  We've seen this before, Bucky!

BW:  We certainly have and if Cletus Lee hits the tossing powerbomb on
Cooper, this match is all over, daddy!

GM:  He's going for it, pulling Cooper back towards the corner...

[With the crowd roaring for Cooper to fight back, Cletus Lee muscles
Cooper up into the air into a crucifix position...]

GM:  Look at the power!

[Cletus Lee charges out of the corner...

...but Dave Cooper wriggles free before the Bishop can plant him with
the tossing powerbomb!]

GM:  Cooper slips free!

[Cletus Lee spins around, cutting off Cooper from getting to the waiting
Eric Matthew Somers...

...and promptly eats a HARD forearm to the side of the head from
Cooper!]

GM:  What a shot by Cooper!  Trying to knock the big man out of his way!

[Cradling Cletus Lee by the head, Cooper tees off, throwing a series of
hard forearms to the side of the head.  He shoves Cletus Lee away,
watching as the big man staggers and stumbles...

...but does not fall!]

BW:  Look at that, Gordo!  He can't get the big man down!

GM:  Cletus Lee just absorbed all of those forearm shots but he's still
standing!  Incredible!

[With a shout, Cooper slaps the canvas before doing a full 360 degree
spin...]

GM:  He won't be able to absorb this one!

[...and lets the Roaring Elbow fly, scoring right on the temple of
Cletus Lee!]

GM:  OHHHH!  HE GOT HIM!  HE GOT HIM!

BW:  BUT CLETUS LEE IS STILL STANDING!

[Cletus Lee looks stunned and dazed... but he stays on his feet,
stumbling back and forth as a shocked Dave Cooper walks past him,
heading towards the corner...

...but Lee reaches out and hooks Cooper by the trunks, yanking him back
out of the corner into a flapjack style lift.  The crazed Arkansas
redneck stumbles across the ring, slapping the hand of Duane Henry who
steps in, hooking a front facelock on Cooper.]

GM:  What the-

[Together, both members of the Bishop Boys drop down to the mat, SPIKING
Dave Cooper's skull into the canvas!]

GM:  OHHHHHHH!  DID YOU SEE THAT?!

BW:  That's it!  Look out Kentucky's Pride, the Bishop Boys are comin'
for ya!

GM:  There's a cover by Duane Henry!  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE- SHOULDER UP!

[The crowd roars for Dave Cooper who just barely gets his shoulder off
the mat before the three count falls.  An irate Duane Henry Cooper is
immediately to his feet, rushing the referee again who actually stumbles
as Henry bowls him over.  The referee is flat on his back with Duane
Henry standing over him, screaming at the official.]

GM:  Oh, come on!  That's gotta be a DQ!

[Sarah Sharpe screams something similar in the direction of the ring... 

...once again earning a sharp rebuke from Cousin Bo.]

GM:  The war of words outside the ring continues, Bucky.

BW:  Cousin Bo doesn't take no jaw from a woman, daddy.

[With Duane Henry shouting at the official, Dave Cooper uses the
opportunity to crawl across the ring, inching closer to his partner
whose arm is outstretched.]

GM:  Duane Henry Bishop is distracted by the official and look at
Cooper!  Dave Cooper is trying to get across the ring and make that tag!
 Eric Matthew Somers wants back inside the ring so badly!

[Outside the ring, Cousin Bo is screaming at Duane Henry, trying to get
his focus back on his opponent instead of the referee.  Snapping out of
it, Henry stumbles towards the crawling Cooper...

...and drops Cooper with a leaping legdrop to the back of the head!]

GM:  Ohh!

[Duane Henry promptly flips Cooper to his back, applying a lateral
press.]

GM:  One!  Two!  THRE- NO!

[The crowd roars again as Dave Cooper just barely slips a shoulder off
the mat in time to break the pin attempt.  A weary Dave Cooper lies back
down on the mat as Duane Henry throws a few hard blows to the side of
Cooper's head.]

GM:  Henry battering Cooper down on the mat... just a few feet away from
Somers and-

[Henry springs to his feet and uncorks a right hand to the side of
Somers' head!  The fiery Somers steps into the ring, looking to
attack...

...but the referee steps in his path, backing him down as Henry drags
Cooper across the ring back to the Bishop Boys' corner.]

GM:  The referee is forcing Somers back to the apron... Sarah Sharpe is
irate at this official.

BW:  And Cousin Bo is irate at her.

GM:  Apparently.  Henry shoves Cooper back to the buckles... there's a
tag to big Cletus Lee.

BW:  Not what Cooper needed.

[The bigger Bishop steps back into the ring, helping Duane Henry drag
Cooper out of the corner towards the middle of the ring where they stand
Cooper up in a dazed fashion...

...and BLAST him from both sides with a double chop.]

GM:  Ohh!  Chop to the front and one to the back by the Bishops!

[The double chop is immediately followed up with a double charge to
opposite ropes...

...and a sandwiching double shoulderblock that crushes Cooper between
the two Bishops!]

GM:  Down goes Cooper again!

[Cletus Lee glares at the downed Cooper and at a shout from Cousin Bo,
he backs to the corner where he slaps the hand of Duane Henry again.]

GM:  The tag once again to Duane Henry and - look at this... Duane Henry
is scaling the turnbuckles!

[The crowd begins to buzz as Duane Henry steps to the middle rope, then
up to the top...

...at which point, Cletus Lee reaches up, grabbing Duane Henry.]

GM:  Oh no.

BW:  Oh yes!

GM:  Duane Henry is gonna- CLETUS THROWS HIM!

[The 6'8 Bishop HURLS his brother off the top rope, sending him sailing
through the air towards a downed Dave Cooper...

...who at the last possible moments, raises his knees!]

GM:  KNEES!  DUANE HENRY LANDS ON THE KNEES!

[The crowd ERUPTS as Duane Henry recoils away, clutching his ribcage in
agony.  Down on the mat, Dave Cooper rolls to his stomach, slapping the
canvas as he tries to crawl across the ring.]


"TEN MINUTES HAVE EXPIRED!  TEN MINUTES REMAIN!  TEN MINUTES!"


GM:  This is his chance!  This is Dave Cooper's chance to get out of
there and get the tag to Eric!  Eric Matthew Somers is on the apron,
waiting for the tag...

[The fans clap their hands in rhythm, trying to cheer on Dave Cooper's
efforts.]

GM:  Cooper's getting closer!  He's getting close to the corner!  Come
on, Dave!

BW:  Why are you cheering him on?!

GM:  Cooper's almost there!

[Somers stretches out as far as he can...

...and the crowd EXPLODES as Cooper makes a lunge, slapping the hand of
his monstrous partner!]

GM:  TAG!  IN COMES SOMERS!

[The 6'9 Eric Matthew Somers steps into the ring...

...and runs right over a rising Duane Henry with a running clothesline!]

GM:  Down goes Duane Henry!

[Somers pulls the Bishop off the mat, throwing him back into the
buckles.  The big man leans over, grabbing the middle rope.]

GM:  Somers has him in the neutral corner...

[The crowd roars as Somers launches shoulder after shoulder after
shoulder into the midsection of Duane Henry Bishop.]

GM:  Somers is all over him in the corner!

[Straightening up, Somers grabs Duane Henry by the wrist, firing him
across the ring to the opposite corner where the Bishop staggers out...

...and gets hoisted up into the air as Somers pivots and DRIVES his
opponent down to the mat with a thunderous powerslam!]

GM:  POWERSLAM!  OH MY!   ONE!!!  TWO!!!  THR- CLETUS LEE BREAKS IT UP!

[Cletus Lee throws a few hard stomps to the back of Eric Matthew Somers'
head before the referee backs him off.  A slightly-dazed - and
absolutely irritated - Somers gets up to his feet.  He points a finger
of warning in the direction of Cletus Lee before pulling Henry up off
the mat, dragging him over towards the ropes.]

GM:  Irish whip by Somers...

[Duane Henry Bishop hits the ropes, ducking under a clothesline attempt
by Somers who charges the ropes - and catches a blind tag on the
shoulder from Dave Cooper.]

GM:  Cooper tags himself in!

BW:  What an idiot that guy is!  He just got out of there!

[Duane Henry ducks under another clothesline by Somers...

...and finds himself in the waiting arms of Dave Cooper who spins around
and violently DRIVES Henry down to the mat with a spinebuster!  The
referee starts to count when Cousin Bo leaps up on the ring apron,
screaming about an illegal tag.]

GM:  Get him down from there!

BW:  The tag was illegal!  He's right!  I saw it!

GM:  You saw no such thing!

[The distracted official moves over to argue with Cousin Bo, leaving
Dave Cooper covering Duane Henry in the middle of the ring.  A furious
Sarah Sharpe jumps up on the apron, screaming at Cousin Bo and shouting
at the referee while gesturing to the pin.]

GM:  Now we've got both managers up on the apron!

BW:  She's not really a manager, Gordo.

GM:  Yes she is!  

[With the two managers screaming at each other on the apron, Eric
Matthew Somers drops off the apron, moving around the ring...

...and yanking Cousin Bo down off the apron!  The crowd erupts!]

GM:  Oh yeah!  Somers has got Bo!

BW:  Why?  What did he do!?

GM:  Eric Matthew Somers is gonna knock Cousin Bo's teeth down his
throat, Bucky!

[The crowd roars as Somers threatens Bo, holding his fist up like he's
gonna flatten him at any moment.

But with Somers [and everyone else] distracted, Cletus Lee slips into
the ring, measuring a rising Dave Cooper.]

GM:  Look out for Cletus Lee!  Where did HE come from?!

[Lee charges to the ropes, measuring Cooper for the charging big boot...

...and running RIGHT into a distracted Sarah Sharpe who was still
standing on the apron.  The impact of the collision sends Sharpe sailing
off the apron, SMASHING down on the hard wooden circular stage that the
ring is resting on!]

GM:  Oh my God!

[Cletus Lee freezes in his tracks off the impact, spinning around to
stare at the downed Sarah Sharpe who is on the floor, clutching her
shoulder and screaming in agony.

The rest of the arena is stunned silent, staring at the scene before
them...

...until suddenly blowing up in cheers as an ENRAGED Dave Cooper rushes
Cletus Lee, throwing fists as quickly as his body will manage.  Duane
Henry rushes to his partner's aid with a running double axehandle,
knocking Cooper down to a knee where he still is throwing blows.  From
outside the ring, Somers shoves Cousin Bo away, turning back to the ring
where he rolls under the ropes, looking to help his partner.]

GM:  All four men are in the ring but we need to get some help OUTSIDE
the ring.  Sarah Sharpe is down and I think she's hurt badly!  She's
screaming in pain!

BW:  Look at Somers and Cletus trading shots!

[The crowd roars as the two mammoth men stand in the center of the ring,
battering one another with as heavy of blows as they can.  Suddenly,
Cousin Bo hops up on the apron...

...and gets grabbed around the throat by Dave Cooper!]

GM:  Cooper's got Bo!  Cooper's got Bo!

[Duane Henry quickly rushes to Bo's aid, nailing Cooper from behind.]

GM:  It's broken down here in Houston, Texas!  The referee's got
absolutely no control over this!

[Henry grabs Cooper by the back of the trunks, tipping him over the
ropes and out to the floor!]

GM:  Ohh!  Come on!

[Duane Henry promptly goes outside the ring with Cooper, pulling him off
the wooden stage...

...and SMASHES his head into the ring apron!]

GM:  Oh!  Down goes Cooper!

[The camera catches an awesome shot of a downed Dave Cooper just a
couple feet away from his fallen wife, Cooper trying to edge closer to
her...

...just before Duane Henry delivers a hard boot to the ribcage of
Cooper.]

GM:  We've got people fighting outside the ring!  There's people
fighting inside the ring!

[Out on the floor, Henry pulls Cooper into a standing front facelock,
slinging Cooper's arm over his neck, and hoists him up into the air,
pausing in mid-lift...

...and DROPPING Cooper facefirst down on the wooden stage with a
gourdbuster!]

GM:  OHHHHH!

BW:  That was AWESOME!

GM:  Sarah is down!  Cooper is down!  But Eric Matthew Somers continues
to stand and fight with Cletus Lee!  

[A thunderous headbutt to Cletus Lee causes him to stumble backwards to
the ropes where he steps out on the apron, dropping down to the floor to
try and get away from the 6'9 Somers.]

GM:  Cletus Lee is running for his life!

BW:  He is not!  He's regrouping!

GM:  Somers is goin' out after him though!

[Somers drops down off the apron, grabbing Lee by the head, pulling him
back around into a bearhug.]

GM:  He's got a bearhug on Cletus Lee!

[The crowd begins to buzz as Somers backs towards the ring announcing
pit, screaming for people to clear out of the way.]

GM:  Wait a second!  Wait a second here!

BW:  I'm gettin' out of here, daddy!

[The announcers scatter as Somers sets for an overhead belly-to-belly
that would hurl Cletus Lee off the elevated stage and down into the pit
where the announce table is resting.

But before the mighty throw can happen, a sea of security and AWA
officials pour down the aisle, surrounding the ring to try to regain
control of the situation.  They are quickly followed by several of the
competitors in tonight's Rumble - Mike Anderson, Mark Adams, Jackson
Ross, Soup Bone Samson, among others - who join the fray, prying Somers'
arms apart...

...and catching a few haymakers from the 6'9 monster in the process. 
With the scene devolved into total chaos, the camera pulls back to show
the sea of humanity around the ring, brawling, struggling, and otherwise
causing a ruckus...

...before fading to black.

After a moment, we fade back up on a shot of Jason Dane and Mark
Stegglet in an apparently moving car.]

JD:  Hey, AWA fans - so much of our lives are now spent on-the-go,
wouldn't you love to be able to keep track of your favorite AWA
superstars when you're away from home?

MS:  I know I would, Jason!  And I'd also love to have a place to put
out all those rumors we hear during the week that never make AWA
Saturday Night Wrestling.

JD:  You've got that right.  Wouldn't it be great if we could combine
both of those ideas into one?

[Suddenly, a giant graphic of an iPhone appears between them!]

JD & MS:  NOW WE CAN!

[A voiceover takes over - thank God.]

VO:  Starting today, you can download AWA Access - a great new
application for your iPhone where you can get all the AWA news, rumors,
and happenings before the rest of the world.  And don't forget to check
out the "exclusive" section for matches that never aired!  AWA Access -
coming to an iPhone near you!

[Fade back to black...

...and then back up on the ringside area where the announce team is
standing.  The scene has obviously been cleared but the crowd is still
buzzing at what they just saw.]

GM:  Welcome back, fans - and thanks for allowing us a moment to catch
our breath after what we just saw.  First, during the break, the referee
informed us that the match was thrown out and declared a no contest.  

BW:  What does that mean?  Do they keep their two points?  Do they reset
to zero?

GM:  That's a decision up to the Championship Committee, I believe. 
Second, Sarah Sharpe was stretchered away from the ringside area during
the commercial.  She is being taken to a local medicial facility for
examination.  As many of you know, Sarah Sharpe used to be a wrestler in
her own right but she was forced to retire due to a severe shoulder
injury.  At this time, we have to assume that shoulder injury was
re-aggravated in that fall to the floor.

BW:  Are Rough N Ready still in the building?

GM:  They are not.  Understandably, Eric Matthew Somers and Dave Cooper
have left the building to be with their manager at the medical center. 
We have been informed that Mike Anderson and Mark Adams were told
moments ago that they are IN the Rumble!  A big night for both of those
men who started as alternates but they are in now.  

BW:  And once you're in, who knows what'll happen next?

GM:  You'd better believe it.  Well, fans... we've already had an
exciting night here in Houston as Memorial Day Mayhem is certainly
living up to its name.  Coming up next, we've got our National Title
defense with the champion, the Russian War Machine, Kolya Sudakov,
defending against a challenger that has yet to be revealed.  Bucky,
you're full of surprises tonight - any ideas?

BW:  I wouldn't get too excited, Gordo.

GM:  What does that mean?

BW:  You'll see.

GM:  Fans, earlier today, Jason Dane caught up with the Russians.  Let's
see what's going through their minds on this big, big night in Houston,
Texas!

[We fade to the backstage interview area where Jason Dane is standing
between the two large men known as the Russians.  The footage is marked
"EARLIER TODAY."]

JD:  We are backstage in the Arena Theatre in Houston, Texas at Memorial
Day Mayhem.  Here with me right now... Vladimir Velikov and the National
Champion, Kolya Sudakov... The Russians!  It's a big night for both of
these men.  Vladimir Velikov, you are one of thirty men in the Rumble
tonight.  Your thoughts?

[Velikov chuckles with his gravelly voice.]

VV:  My thoughts?  My thoughts are this will be the worst night in the
lives of every AWA fan.  They come to Houston... they watch on TV...
they all tune in to see their favorites.  They want to see Rogers.  They
want to see Broussard.  They want to see Scott.  They want to see all
the others line up and knock off my nephew, Kolya.

[Velikov snorts.]

VV:  It will not happen, Comrades.  It will not happen.  Tonight, all
your heroes will fail.  They will fall under true Russian power when I
step into the ring, toss twenty-nine men over the top rope, and win the
Rumble.

And on the 4th of July, my nephew and myself will celebrate in true
Russian fashion while your pathetic Americans can do nothing but stand
by and watch.

[The Russians start to leave when Dane speaks up.]

JD:  But what about the National Title?  Who's the opponent?

[Velikov turns, looking over his shoulder.]

VV:  Does it matter?

[And with that, the Russians walk out of view, leaving Dane behind...

...and we fade back to the ring where Melissa Cannon is standing.]

MC:  The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a ten minute
time limit and is for the AWA National Title.  Introducing first... he
is the champion...

[The Soviet National Anthem kicks in to a huge roar of boos from the
crowd.]

MC:  From Russia... weighing in at 260 pounds...

He is the Russian War Machine...

KOLLLLLLYAAAAA SUUUUUUDAKOV!

[The Russian War Machine walks through the curtain into the Arena
Theatre, the title belt slung over his shoulder.  He stops just inside
the building, looking out over the hostile crowd.]

GM:  The National Champion is in the house, looking to successfully
defend his championship against an unknown contender.  And if he can do
that, he will sit back, relax, and watch later tonight as thirty men
battle for the right to face him on the 4th of July.

BW:  He's going to sit back, relax, and watch his Uncle toss twenty-nine
men over the top rope... or so he hopes.

GM:  Presumably, Velikov would forego that title shot and Sudakov would
escape facing another top challenger.  

BW:  You say that like he hasn't faced top flight competition, Gordo. 
Who was that who sent Mark Shaw packing out of the AWA just a month or
so ago?  Who was it?

GM:  That was certainly Kolya Sudakov.  But there's a long list of top
challengers looking for their shot at the Russian War Machine as well. 
Men like Adam Rogers, Marcus Broussard, Juan Vasquez - the list goes on,
Bucky.

BW:  All of those men have a chance tonight to GUARANTEE a shot at
Sudakov.  All they have to do is outlast twenty-nine others to win the
whole thing and earn a date with the champion on the 4th of July.

GM:  But that's later.  Right now, we've got a title match to witness.

[Sudakov stands on the midbuckle for a bit, looking out over the crowd
before dropping off the ropes and handing his title belt over to the
referee.]

GM:  Noticeably absent out here at ringside is Vladimir Velikov who
must've opted to stay in the locker room to prepare for the Rumble.

BW:  I don't think he'll be needed.

GM:  What do you know that I don't?

BW:  You could fill the Grand Canyon with the answer to that question.

GM:  Very funny.

[Sudakov stands in the center of the ring, bouncing back and forth from
leg to leg as he prepares for battle.]

MC:  And his opponent...

[All eyes turn towards the entryway.]

MC:  From the Isle of Cuba...

[The crowd visibly deflates and starts booing at the ring where Kolya
Sudakov suddenly is a lot more relaxed.]

MC:  He is the challenger... THE CUBAN ASSASSIN #6!

[The jeers only grow louder as the Cuban Assassin emerges from the
locker room.  Clad in camo pants with a khaki wifebeater and sporting
his infamous crazy-man beard, the Assassin walks down the aisle with
purpose, rolling under the bottom rope...

...and EATING a Russian sickle as he gets to his feet!]

GM:  OHHHHH!

BW:  That's it.

GM:  I should say so.  Sudakov's telling the ref to ring the bell which
he - of course - does.


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


[Sudakov slowly walks across the ring to the downed Cuban Assassin...

...and presses a finger down firmly in the chest of his "challenger."]

GM:  One.  Two.  Three.  That'll do it.


"DING!  DING!  DING!"

MC:  Your winner of the match... and STILL AWA National Champion... the
Russian War Machine...

KOLYAAAAAA SUUUUDAKOV!

[More jeers for the National Champion as he snatches his belt away from
the referee, holding it high in the air for the crowd to spew even more
hatred in his direction.]

GM:  What a joke.  Sudakov set this one up, I'm assuming?

BW:  The Russians set up the match.  It was a tough challenger.

GM:  Of course it was.  I bet Velikov's back in the locker room laughing
his tail off.  Well, laugh now, Comrade... because you won't be laughing
much longer.  There's twenty-nine men hunting you down in that Rumble
tonight to make sure of it.  And I'm POSITIVE you won't be laughing on
the 4th of July - no matter who the opponent is.  Fans, let's go back to
Jason!

[The camera fades once again to the interview area where Jason Dane is
standing with "Agent To The Stars" Ben Waterson.]

JD:  Thanks, Gordon.  And as you can see, I've been joined back here by
Ben Waterson, the man who claims he holds the secret to beating Kolya
Sudakov.  Mr. Waterson, you claim you hold the secret to becoming the
National Champion in that briefcase.

[Waterson lifts the metal briefcase, slapping the side of it.]

BW:  I hold it all, my friend.  I hold it all.  I hold the secret to
beating Kolya Sudakov.  I hold the secret to becoming the National
Champion.  And I hold the secret to becoming the richest man in the
entire AWA.

[Waterson cracks a grin.]

BW:  This is it, Jason Dane.

[He holds the case up again.]

BW:  Forget about Devon.  THIS is the most valuable case in professional
wrestling.  This is everything to everyone, Jason. 

Everyone in that Rumble tonight will be looking for something.  Some are
looking for fame, some are looking for luck, some are looking for
revenge, some are looking for glory...

I'm also looking for something tonight... or rather, someone.

[Waterson pauses.]

BW:  I'm looking for the smartest man in professional wrestling.  I'm
looking for the man who can win that Rumble... who can outlast
twenty-nine other men to earn that shot at the gold...

And who is smart enough to come knocking on my office door tomorrow
morning with the cash needed to buy this case.  Because this is it,
Jason Dane.  This is everything.

I hold in my hands someone's future... someone's legacy... someone's
destiny.

[The former MMA competitor pauses one more time.]

BW:  Kolya, listen closely... you WILL regret the day that my services
were "no longer needed."

Consider.  Yourself.  Warned.

[Waterson slaps the case one more time before walking off camera.]

JD:  The title shot is one thing.  Winning the gold is quite another. 
Will someone take Mr. Waterson up on his offer?  Keep your eyes locked
on AWA TV to find out!  Fans, don't you dare go away, we'll be right
back!

[We fade away from the shot of Jason Dane...

...and then back up on a white screen.  The voice of Gordon Myers is
heard.]

"The AWA took 2008 by storm - breaking the mold of a modern wrestling
promotion.  And now, in 2009, we look to be hotter than ever.

But what if... you missed the beginning?"

[Red text appears on the screen.]

"AWA: YEAR ONE!"

[The text spins out of view to be replaced by a series of still photos
showing action from the first year of AWA action.]

"Witness highlights from the first AWA Saturday Night Wrestling.

See the very first AWA Rumble.

Highlights from Memorial Day Mayhem, The Last Stampede, Thanksgiving
weekend, and much, much more.

Plus, full matches including the 2008 Match of the Year - WarGames!

All of this fantastic AWA action will be available exclusively on DVD
and iTunes!  Check your local stores for details!"

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

...and then back up inside the Arena Theatre and the announcing "pit"
where Gordon Myers and Bucky Wilde are standing.]

GM:  Welcome back, fans, to Memorial Day Mayhem.  We've got two matches
down and two more to go with Juan Vasquez taking on Raphael Rhodes for
the very first time.  And don't forget the HUGE 30 man Rumble match with
a National Title shot on the line.  But coming up nex-

[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
walks out, wearing a button-up polo shirt and khakis. Freeman strides
towards the ring purposefully as the crowds boos rise to a crescendo.
The Australian slides into the ring and takes a microphone from the
announcer.]

GM: Well , it looks like Adrian Freeman has decided to grace us with his
presence.

BW: You should be greatful! This kid is on his way to the top, Gordo.
You saw how he pinned Adam Rogers two weeks ago.

[Adrian Freeman clears his throat, eliciting another round of jeers.]

AF: Yes yes, I know, you all want your opinions heard like the precious
little snowflakes you are. Normally I wouldnt care, but Im not out here
tonight to talk about myself. Because its Memorial Day, Im here to
salute our fallen warriors.

[The crowd dies down a bit. Could Subzero actually be doing something
decent, even respectful for once?]

AF: Fallen warriors like Rick Marley.

[Of course not.]

AF: Despair. Kirk Maclean. And soon to be Adam Rogers... he may still be
kicking around, but weve all seen how these things go. So many men,
fallen to the despair and damaged caused by crushing defeat to the best
technical wrestler in the AWA.

[Freeman shakes his head, still speaking with a mock sad tone. The
Houston crowds boos begin to rise in chorus again.]

AF: All of them just made one simple, tragic mistake... making Adrian
Freeman mad.


GM: Now hes talking in the third person? Give me a break.

BW: Its literary!


AF: Hes just a little guy, they said, back when their spines didnt 
hurt and their breakfast wasnt a cupful of pills. Whats the worst he 
can do? And then they found out.

In fact, Rick Marley... wasnt it in this same match, a bit more than one
year ago today, that he had to get fancy and take me out? At the time he
was being touted as the dynamic new sensation in the AWA. Now hes off
slumming it in... Arizona? Do people actually live there?

But theres a lesson to be learned from all of these fallen warriors. And
I hope, for their sake, that the other 29 men in this Rumble will 
take heed of that lesson. And when they think of doing something thatll
make me mad... I hope they remember that the Rumble is just one match,
but when Im done with you your whole career is over.

[Freeman drops the mic and heads to the back as Try Honesty plays
again...

...and we dissolve back to ringside.]

GM:  Adrian Freeman with a very serious message to the entire AWA
roster.  This young man has been on a tear as of late and he has to be
considered one of the favorites tonight in the Rumble.

BW:  It's not his style of match.  We know that.  But he's already
beaten Adam Rogers.  A win here tonight to cap off his month has GOT to
make Adrian Freeman the hottest rising star in all of professional
wrestling, Gordo.

GM:  I think I'd agree with that.  He'll definitely be one to watch
later tonight in the Rumble.  And speaking of men to watch in the
Rumble... what about this man... what about Raphael Rhodes?

[We fade to footage where we are standing by with Jason Dane, who is
holding a microphone and standing next to a surprisingly subdued "Catch
Thug" Raphael Rhodes. Rhodes is wearing a black knit cap pulled down
close to his eyes and a T-shirt bearing the cover of the Clash's London
Calling album. They are standing in front of the Arena Theatre in
Houston, the site of Memorial Day Mayhem, as a "recorded yesterday"
graphic appears on the screen.]

JD: Jason Dane reporting here for the AWA, standing next to Raphael
Rhodes, who in just a few hours will be battling his former tag team
partner Juan Vasquez in what is sure to be a grudge match not to be
missed. Raphael, it's just scant hours away... 

RR: Look... I've been thinkin', right? I've been thinkin' about my
station in life. All my life, I've been fightin' for everythin' I got.
Kids in school used to try and start fights because me dad and me uncles
were on telly every weekend, and they wanted to tell their friends that
they beat up the kid of the famous telly wrestler. Then, when we get
older, they start sayin' me dad's sleepin' around with all the groupies,
with their snaggled teeth and badly dyed hair... that he ain't ever been
around me whole life and he ain't ever goin' to be around. I thought
about all the times I'd come home from school covered in blood from
another ruckus, and me mom takin' me by the wrist out to the pitiful
excuse of a backyard we had, and beatin' me for bein' just like all the
people in me family.

[Rhodes sighs.]

RR: Been fightin' all me life, aye? So I grow up and I figure that I'm
goin' to be fightin' all me life, so I might as well get paid for it. I
hang me shingle up next to me dad's in the family business... travel
around the world, fight my way to punch me ticket, and it brings me here
to this place where it's bleedin' humid and preparin' for a match that
everyone's sayin' is goin' to be this epic tale of violence and gore.
And I ain't never been shook by anythin' another man's said to me...
until you came along fifteen days ago, Juan Vasquez, and you said
somethin' that really made me think.

[Rhodes scoffs.]

RR: Sixteen days to disappoint me father, you said, ain't that right
mate? Sayin' you weren't goin' to say anythin' about the good name of me
family in that mockin' tone that you've made so bleedin' famous...
right, people have been makin' remarks about me family the whole time
they've known me, that ain't nothin'. But you think I'm disappointin' me
father? You think you have any idea just what me dad feels? You think
you have any idea what goes through me head? Who in the name of the
bleedin' Virgin Mary do you think you are, Juan Vasquez?

[The venom practically drips off Vasquez's name as it exits Rhodes'
mouth.]

RR: I woke up every day wishin' and prayin' that I could be the man that
me father was, until one day, I finally decided it weren't no good to
mess up me thoughts with tryin' to be like someone that I saw on the
telly more than the supper table. And you, Juan, you take his name and
you wield it like a dagger lookin' to pierce me heart. And that's the
funny thing... you ain't got any idea what you've done. See Juan, all
this time, it's all been about how I was supposed to let you lead the
way and let you be the captain... well, I ain't listened to anyone else
but meself before and I'm doin' just fine. And when it came down to the
brass tacks, it was _you_ that failed. It was _you_ that couldn't keep
the pace up. It was _you_ tryin' to make up for past regrets, and it was
_you_ that bollocksed it all up.

[Rhodes spits on the ground.]

RR: See, I ain't a perfect man, Juan Vasquez... never said I was, but I
know what works in a fight. If we had a time machine and could get the
Juan Vasquez from 2002, the man who would throw his entire family in
front of a bus if it meant movin' up one rung in the ladder, then that's
a man I could team with. But instead, Juan, you're all marshmallow...
soft and sweet and easy to consume. And what happened, Juan? You got
eaten up. I tried to make it right, I tried to harden you up because you
were a miserable failure in your current state, and the people... 

[Rhodes trembles with rage, clearly becoming angrier with each word.]

RR: ... the people, they cheer _you_. They cheer _you_ because you
represent everythin' that they want to be. Someone who claws to the top
by wreckin' friendships and stabbin' people through the back, but oh
golly, they got a heart now and they feel so sorry about it. You're a
cliche of a bad movie, Juan... and now, just like that, you take the one
thing that you know is goin' to send me over the edge, because you
thought it was cute to say and make the people laugh... and I'm 12 years
old again at the primary school, blood drippin' off me fists because
someone calls me mom a tart. And you see, Juan, you have no idea what
you've unlocked in me.

[Rhodes points at the camera.]

RR: You ain't no different than me, Juan. The only thing is, I've got
the guts to stab you in the front, when you can see me comin'. I've got
the guts to do what I need to do to get ahead, and I can sleep at night
without any phony regrets. This is a dirty business, Juan, it ain't a
place for a conscience. I'm a sick, evil monster... but at least I know
that, and I can live with it. And now, you've taken a step across a
line, and you ain't ever comin' back from that step again.

[Rhodes looks at the building, a smile crossing his face.]

RR: You better make your peace with God, Juan... because after tomorrow,
you're goin' to be moved closer to him at a rapid rate.

[Rhodes walks away, leaving Jason Dane speechless. And with that, we
fade out...

...and then back up on the ring where Melissa Cannon is standing.]

MC:  The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty
minute time limit.  Introducing first...

["They Reminisce Over You" by Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth begins to play
over the PA system as the erupts into cheers.] 

MC:  He hails from Los Angeles, California...standing 6'2 and weighing
in at 238 pounds...

JUUUUUAAAAAAAANNNNNN

VAAASSSSSSQQQUUUUEEEZZZZ!!!!

[Juan Vasquez bursts through the curtains with a determined look on his
face. He is dressed in his usual white tracksuit w/ black trim over his
usual wrestling gear. He makes his way down the aisle, occasionally
slapping a few of the fans' many outstretched hands, but otherwise
keeping his focus completely on the ring. He climbs up on the round
wooden stage, leaps onto the ring apron, but doesn't enter the ring,
instead turning around and staring right at the entrance, making a
"Bring it on!" gesture with his hands, much to the delight of the
crowd.]

MC:  And his opponent...

["Chemistry" by UNKLE filters through the public address system, as the
entrance curtain bursts open, with the "Catch Thug" Raphael Rhodes
emerging, eyes fixes solely on the ring.  He sports a black towel around
his neck, and is wearing leg-length tights that are half-black on his
left leg and feature the Union Jack on the right. He also has red
kneepads and red wrestling boots on, and both of his fists are taped
heavily. His gaze doesn't leave the ring, as he ignores the booing fans
completely.] 

MC:  He hails from Wigan, Greater Manchester, England... standing 5'9
and weighing in at 201 pounds...

He is the "Catch Thug"...

RAPHAEL RHOOOOOOODES!

[Rhodes starts to walk down the aisle...

...but Juan Vasquez has other plans, leaping off the apron, jumping off
the stage, and sprinting up the aisle towards him.]

GM:  Vasquez is going for him!

BW:  What?  Stop him!  Somebody stop-

[But it's too late as Vasquez and Rhodes come together very near the
entryway to the aisle.  Rhodes greets the oncoming Vasquez with a right
hand, staggering him right off the bat.  Vasquez is quick to fire back
though, throwing fists of his own.  The crowd comes to their feet,
roaring as Vasquez and Rhodes tee off on one another, battering each
other with haymakers.]

GM:  It's broken down... and this match hasn't even started yet!

BW:  That's probably a good thing.  If it had started, it might be over.

GM:  Good point.  The referee is holding off a DQ because the bell
hasn't even rung to officially start the match.  

[Rhodes gets the advantage with a rake of the eyes and a hard headbutt
that sends Vasquez staggering backwards into the small rope that
separates the crowd from the ring entrance aisle.  Grabbing Vasquez by
the hair, Rhodes connects with another crushing headbutt that puts him
down to a knee.]

GM:  Those headbutts are absolutely brutal!  My eyes are tearing up just
watching them.

BW:  It's an easy way to split an eyebrow, break the bridge of a nose...

[As Rhodes grabs for his hair, Vasquez buries a knee in the gut of
Rhodes, breaking up the attempt to attack.  He quickly hooks his arms
around the head and neck of Rhodes...

...and HURLS him over the thin rope, sending him crashing into the fans
lining the aisles.]

GM:  OHHHHH!  LOOK OUT, AWA FANS!

BW:  Vasquez threw him into the seats!  He actually landed on some fans
instead of the chairs - thankfully.  

GM:  Not for the fans.

BW:  Well, no.  But if Rhodes had landed on the chairs, who knows what-

[The crowd roars again as Vasquez steps over the rope, blasting the
rising Rhodes with a right hand that sends him falling back into the
plastic and metal seats on the lower level of the Arena Theatre.]

GM:  The referee is talking to the ring announcer.  I don't think he's
got anything he can do... not yet at least.  I guess he could throw out
the match but...

[In the crowd, Vasquez pulls Rhodes up by the hair, slamming him
facefirst into the seat of the folding chair.  The fans surround the fan
favorite, screaming for him as he pumps a fist in the air.  The
cameraman follows closely behind, trying to make sure all the action is
on film.]

GM:  Vasquez is all over him!  We knew these two wanted to get each
other in there badly but I don't think we knew how badly, Bucky.

BW:  We should have.  They've been after each other for months now. 
This all goes back to last November.  December was when they failed to
win the National Tag Team Titles and had that very violent split.

[Standing over Rhodes, Vasquez throws a hard fist down onto the Brit who
is leanding against the seat.  Another fist follows in, blasting off the
jaw of the Catch Thug.  Reaching down, Vasquez pulls him up by the hair
again...

...and tosses him over the next row of seats, sending him crashing down
onto the floor.]

GM:  The brawl is on, several rows deep into the lower level of the
Arena Theatre.  These two are tearing into one another.

[Vasquez climbs up on the seat of a chair in the original row, then
steps up onto the chair back in front of him...

...before leaping off, smashing a foot down firmly on the sternum of a
still downed Rhodes!]

GM:  Ohhh!  Leaping stomp down on the chest of Rhodes!

BW:  That's a dangerous move, Gordo.  A cracked sternum's not fun and
games.

GM:  It's certainly not.

[Kneeling on the floor, a wild-eyed Vasquez wraps his hands around the
throat of his rival, grimacing and gritting his teeth as he tries to
strangle the oxygen out of the Catch Thug.]

BW:  We need to get someone out there!  Somebody needs to stop this
lunatic!

GM:  He's choking the life out of Rhodes!  He's- ohh!  Rhodes goes to
the eyes!

[The crowd grumbles as Vasquez backs away, wiping at his eyes to try and
clear his vision.  Raphael Rhodes, slightly battered and bruised and
still gasping for air, regains his feet...

...and promptly delivers a pair of blows to the kidneys that sends
Vasquez over a row of seats, leaning over the chair back.  Rhodes
quickly steps over them, shoving aside a pair of fans as he stands a few
seats over.]

GM:  What in the world is Raphael Rhodes looking to-

[The Catch Thug dashes down the few feet of steel seats...

...and PUNTS Vasquez at full force directly in the ribcage, causing him
to roll over onto his back, stretched out over the seats.]

GM:  Good grief!  What a kick to the body by Rhodes!

BW:  At the rate this fight is going on the floor, there's not going to
be anything left of either of these guys once they get inside the ring -
let alone in the Rumble later tonight!

GM:  You've got that right.

[With Vasquez stretched back over the chair backs, Rhodes stands over
him...

...and drops an elbow SQUARELY on the throat of Vasquez, snapping him
off the seats and down to the concrete floor!]

GM:  Goodness!  Right to the throat!

[The cameraman leans over the seat, catching a shot of Vasquez on the
floor, hands wrapped around his throat as he gasps for air.  Raphael
Rhodes sits next to him on the floor, leaning against the chairs.  He
flashes an obsecne hand gesture in the direction of a few fans giving
him a hard time before getting back up.]

GM:  We apologize for that, fans.  Raphael Rhodes doesn't seem to have
as much respect for the fans of the AWA as the rest of us do.

BW:  Rhodes doesn't respect ANYONE, Gordo.  Don't act surprised.

GM:  Rhodes back to his feet, dragging Vasquez off the floor.

[Pulling Juan by the hair, Rhodes presses his windpipe down on the back
of a steel chair, pushing down with all his weight.  He screams at the
nearby camera as he does so.]


"YOU LIKE THAT?  LOOK AT YOUR HERO!"


[After a bit, he lets up and then quickly slams an elbow down to the
back of the neck, smashing Vasquez' windpipe into the steel yet again.]

BW:  Rhodes is going for the throat of Juan Vasquez, trying to take away
his breathing.  Trying to make it harder to get oxygen into his lungs
which'll wear down Vasquez.

GM:  Excellent analysis, Bucky.  I'd have to say you're right.

BW:  Don't sound so surprised, Gordo.

[Grabbing Vasquez by the hair, Rhodes drags him out of the chairs and
the mass of humanity back towards the aisle.  Bending over, he hooks
Vasquez between the legs and stands straight up, backdropping Vasquez
over the rope and down HARD on the exposed concrete floor in the
aisleway!]

GM:  OHHHHHHH!

BW:  No padding there!  We're not in the WKIK Studios anymore!

GM:  Juan Vasquez just got backdropped on a solid concrete floor and
that could end it all right there, Bucky.  This match may be over before
it even starts.

[Seeing the brutality unfold outside the ring, referee Mickey Meekly
slides under the ropes, racing up the aisle.  He immediately gets in the
face of Raphael Rhodes, screaming at him to get the action inside the
ring to start the match...

...and gets a hard shove right in the chest, knocking Meekly off his
feet.]

GM:  Oh!  Come on!  That'll cost Rhodes a few dollars, I promise you
that!

BW:  But it won't cost him the match since that STILL hasn't started!

[Smirking at the downed official, Rhodes delivers a few more hard kicks
- this time aimed at the back of Juan Vasquez, causing the Los Angeles
native to roll away from him, clear under the rope on the other side of
the aisle.]

GM:  Vasquez is trying to get away from him.  This match... this fight,
I guess is a better word for it... has been going on for some five
minutes now.  But it's all been outside of the ring!

BW:  These people love it, Gordo!  Listen to 'em!

[The roaring crowd cheers as Juan Vasquez climbs back to his feet,
clutching his lower back.  Rhodes grabs Vasquez with both hands, pulling
him into a front facelock from the other side of the rope.  He slings
Vasquez' arm over his neck.]

GM:  He's trying to suplex him on the floor!  Somebody's gotta stop
this!

[And that somebody is Juan Vasquez as he reaches up with his free hand
and rakes Rhodes across the eyes, stunning the Catch Thug who drops to a
knee, reaching up to rub his eyes.]

GM:  And this time it's Vasquez who is forced to go the eyes!

BW:  Show some outrage, Gordo.

GM:  All's fair in a fight like this.

BW:  I'll remember that.

[Grabbing the rope "barricade", Vasquez loops it around the throat of
Raphael Rhodes, letting loose a primal scream as he yanks up on it,
trying to strangle Raphael Rhodes once more!]

GM:  Oh my!  He's got the rope around the throat!

BW:  This is fair?!

GM:  This is going too far!  This is going too far, Bucky!

[The crowd roars as a crazed-looking Vasquez pulls even harder on the
ropes, dragging Rhodes to his feet.  The Catch Thug tries to slip his
fingers under the rope, trying to release the pressure on his
windpipe...

...and unexpectedly SLAMS his forehead into the eyebrow of Juan Vasquez,
knocking his rival to a knee where he's forced to release his grip on
the aisle rope.]

GM:  That broke the hold.

BW:  But what else did it break?  That was a lethal headbutt!

GM:  Rhodes grabs Vasquez by the hair, dragging him down the aisle
towards the ring.

[As they approach the steps up the wooden stage, Rhodes takes a right
turn, circling over by the announce "pit."]

GM:  Uh oh.  They're over here by us now.

BW:  Let me get behind you!  Let me get behind-

GM:  Cut that out!

[With a handful of Vasquez' hair, Rhodes winds up...

...and SLAMS his face into the edge of the wooden stage, knocking
Vasquez down to a knee where he leans facefirst against the stage.]

GM:  Good grief!  He DROVE Juan's face into that wooden stage!  Referee,
get these guys inside the ring!

[Rhodes sneers as he yanks Vasquez to his feet again, winds up...

...and SMASHES Vasquez' face into the wooden stage yet again!]

GM:  Twice!  Twice he slammed his face into the wooden stage.  

[Vasquez slumps down, face against the stage yet again.]

GM:  Rhodes backing away... thankfully, he looks like he's finished
with- NO!

[Rhodes suddenly sprints back in...

...and DRIVES his knee into the back of Vasquez' face, slamming it home
against the wooden stage.  The impact causes Vasquez to recoil
backwards, falling flat on his back on the concrete floor next to the
announce table, a tell-tale stream of crimson escaping his right
eyebrow.]

GM:  He's busted open!  

BW:  Uh oh.  Put the women and children to bed.

GM:  Fans, we do advise you to use parental discretion here.  This could
get very ugly in a hurry.  

[The Catch Thug drives a few stomps to the ribs of the downed Vasquez
before reaching down, dragging the bleeding fan favorite back to his
feet, and then fires him under the ropes into the ring.]

GM:  Vasquez rolled back into the ring.  Rhodes is rolling back in as
well.

[Mickey Meekly is the last one into the ring...

...but quickly signals for the bell, starting the match officially.]

GM:  What?!  Are you kidding me?  We're actually going to still have
this match?

BW:  Why wouldn't we?

GM:  Vasquez has been busted open!  He's been backdropped on the floor! 
These two have beaten the tar out of each other before this match even
got off to an official start.

BW:  So, they should be all even then.

GM:  WHAT?!

[Rhodes immediately pounces on the wounded Vasquez, dropping to both
knees and grabbing him by the hair to keep him in place as he pummels
the cut eyebrow with a clenched fist.]

GM:  Oh, come on!  Referee, those are clenched fists!

[The Catch Thug stops the assault at the referee's cries...

...and then starts right back up again, driving his fist into the wound
over and over again.]

GM:  For heaven's sake, Vasquez hasn't even gotten his tracksuit off
yet!

[Rhodes breaks the attack again, looking up at the official with a
nod...

...and then lunges back in, this time biting the cut!]

GM:  He's biting him!  He's biting him!

[The crowd jeers as Rhodes breaks the assault, climbing to his feet.  He
reaches up, wiping the blood off the corner of his mouth with a sneer.]

GM:  What kind of a human being does-  he's a savage, Bucky.  That's all
these is to it.  He's a savage!

BW:  Call him whatever name you want.  But he's got Vasquez down and
down in a big way at the moment.

[Taking a few steps back, Rhodes measures Vasquez...

...then drops forward, smashing his skull down on the head of his
opponent!]

GM:  Ohh!  Falling headbutt by Rhodes - right on target!

BW:  That won't help that cut any, Gordo.

GM:  I wouldn't think so.  Raphael Rhodes is showing the kind of vicious
streak that has quickly made him one of the most dangerous competitors
in the entire AWA - the entire professional wrestling world.

[Still kneeling on the mat, Rhodes balls up his fist and drives another
knucklepunch right into the split eyebrow, the stream of blood now
turning into quite the flood.]

GM:  Raphael Rhodes has managed to rip the head of Vasquez wide open. 
This is getting ugly in a hurry.

[Hauling Vasquez to his feet, Rhodes drags him over towards the corner
and drives his head into the turnbuckles, turning his back into the
buckles, and lashes out with a brutal reverse knife-edge chop across the
chest.]

GM:  Ohh!  What a chop by Rhodes!

BW:  One of the hardest hitting men in the AWA just chopped Vasquez
across the chest and I have no idea how he's still standing.

[Taunting the fans by clapping his hands together, Rhodes steps up on
the midbuckle.  He mockingly calls for the fans to cheer him on as he
drives his fist down into the head of Vasquez, looking up to scream
"ONE!"  He repeats the process, shouting "TWO!" after the second blow to
the skull.]

GM:  Give me a break.  This guy... what a jerk.

BW:  Come on, Gordo.  Have a sense of humor.

GM:  Another right hand... and another...

[The crowd boos Rhodes mercilessly as he drives fist after fist to the
target - the split eyebrow of Vasquez - as he counts along for himself
after every blow.  After the tenth blow, he hops down off the buckles...

...and BLASTS Vasquez with a European uppercut that knocks his opponent
off his feet, putting him down in a seated position against the
turnbuckles.]

GM:  Ohh!  That'll make a trip to the dentist necessary.

[With the crowd still booing, Rhodes leans over the ropes, shouting a
few words in their direction.]

GM:  Raphael Rhodes is giving the crowd a hard time - he should be
keeping his focus on Juan Vasquez.

BW:  I'll agree with you on that one.  Rhodes doesn't have time to waste
yelling at the fans.  That's a little bit of his inexperience showing,
Gordo.

GM:  Rhodes moving back in on Juan and...

[Rhodes drops down, his knee SMASHING down on the forehead to the skull.
 The Catch Thug throws himself across Vasquez in a lateral press,
reaching back to hook a leg.]

GM:  There's a cover - one!  Two!  Th- shoulder up!

[The crowd cheers the less-than-energetic kickout of a bloodied Juan
Vasquez who slipped a shoulder up before the three count could fall. 
Rhodes reacts by grabbing the arm of Vasquez.]

GM:  Rhodes may be switching up - looking to go after the arm.

[But instead, Rhodes presses his rival's elbow down on the mat with one
hand...

...and then pushes back on Vasquez' fingers, causing him to scream out
in pain.]

GM:  OH!  

BW:  Small joint manipulation!  Illegal in Mixed Martial Arts but
completely legal here in the AWA, daddy!

GM:  The referee is right in there, checking on Juan Vasquez!

[But Vasquez swings his right leg up, slamming his knee up into the ribs
of Rhodes.  A second knee breaks the grip on his hand and causes Rhodes
to get up to his feet, viciously stomping Vasquez with such ferocity, it
forces Vasquez to roll out to the apron, trying to avoid the assault.]

GM:  Vasquez out on the apron, trying to get away from those stomps.

[Sneering at the protesting official, Rhodes reaches over the ropes,
pulling Vasquez up by the blood-covered hair.  The Catch Thug goes for
the suplex to bring him back in...

...but Vasquez wriggles and fights, causing Rhodes to set him back down
on the apron.]

GM:  He fights free of the suplex and... ohh!  Hard forearm smash across
the back of the head and neck of Rhodes.  Another one... and another...
and another!  A barrage of forearms!

[Vasquez yanks Rhodes in, hooking a suplex of his own.  He hoists the
Catch Thug into the air, trying to suplex him over the ropes over the
ropes to the floor...

...but Rhodes is the one fighting and wriggling this one, forcing
Vasquez to set him down outside the ring on the apron.]

GM:  This time, it's Rhodes who gets free!  We've got both men outside
the ring on the apron now.

[Vasquez tries to get the edge, snapping off a few right hands that
knocks Rhodes back towards the ringpost.]

GM:  Vasquez is fighting back!  He's trying to rally from- ohh!  Rhodes
to the eyes!

[A blinded Vasquez staggers away, clinging to the ropes to try to stay
on his feet.  The Catch Thug quickly moves back in, connecting with a
hooking punch to the body that causes Vasquez to fall back a few more
steps.  With Vasquez leaning against the ringpost, Rhodes connects with
hook after hook after hook to the ribcage.]

GM:  Brutal shots to the body, just breaking down Vasquez in every way. 
Juan's hanging onto the ringpost to stay on the apron but Rhodes is just
teeing off on him.

[With Juan reeling, Rhodes smirks at the jeering crowd before winding up
with his right hand...

...and BLASTING Vasquez with an open-hand slap right across the ear of
Vasquez!]

GM:  OHHH!  Come on, ref!

BW:  What?!  There's nothing illegal about a slap!

GM:  Maybe not illegal but that's some serious disrespect right there.

[Letting up on his rival, Rhodes walks back down the apron, giving the
ringside fans a hard time as they jeer his every action...

...which allows a fired-up Juan Vasquez to charge down the apron just as
Rhodes turns around.]

GM:  SPEAR!

[A CRUSHING spear tackle connects solidly with the upper body of Rhodes,
ripping him off the apron as both men come crashing down onto the wooden
stage in a heap with the crowd absolutely roaring in response.]

GM:  Good grief!  They're both down, Bucky!

BW:  I hate to admit it but that was one heck of a tackle by Vasquez,
Gordo.  Both men are down on the floor... on that wooden stage now. 
Rhodes is flat on his back but that took a lot out of Vasquez as well
and you have to imagine Juan Vasquez may be feeling the effects of that
blood loss right now.

GM:  The referee leaning over the ropes, checking on both men... fans,
we've gotta take a quick break but the cameras are rolling in case this
match ends during the break.  Don't you dare go away, fans!

[We fade away from a shot of both men trying to recover out on the
floor...

...and then back up.  It's a shot of a few kids standing outside of a
classroom.  A fourth kid walks up to them, carrying his backpack over
his shoulder.]

4th Kid:  Hey guys... wait til you see what I got from AWAShop.com!

[He whips open the backpack and produces...

...a JUAN VASQUEZ BOBBLEHEAD!]

"Whoa!"

"Wow!"

"That rocks!"

"I want one... now!"

[The 4th kid looks pleased with himself...

...until a fifth kid walks up.]

5th Kid:  Juan Vasquez, huh?  That's not bad... but check this out!

[The 5th kid opens his backpack and reveals...

...a CITY JACK BOBBLEHEAD!]

"WHOA!"

"WOWER!"

"THAT ROCKS MORE!"

"I WANT ONE... NOW!"

[The fifth kid looks proud as the fourth kid looks sad at his Vasquez
bobblehead and we fade to black.

And then back up on live action where Raphael Rhodes is back inside the
ring with Juan Vasquez leaning in the buckles, waving for him to get
back to his feet.]

GM:  Vasquez is trying to get him up... welcome back, fans... this match
is still going and...

[Rhodes rolls over to his back, sitting up...

...which brings Vasquez charging out of the buckles, DRILLING Rhodes
with both feet in the face with a dropkick to the seated Catch Thug! 
Vasquez promptly rolls over, throwing himself across the downed Rhodes.]

GM:  A cover!  One!  Two!  No, kickout at two!

[Vasquez quickly takes the mount, throwing punch after punch after punch
from the top, sending the crowd into a frenzy as the referee protests
wildly, trying to break up the assault.]

GM:  The referee's counting - three, four, fiv- whooooa!  That was
close, Bucky!

BW:  Ring the bell, ref!  This guy is out of control!

GM:  Vasquez back to his feet, dragging Rhodes off the mat... and a big
whip HARD to the buckles!

[Rhodes staggers out of the corner...

...right into a waiting Vasquez hiptoss that causes the crowd to roar!]

GM:  HIPTOSS!

BW:  It's just a hiptoss!  Shut these people up!

[Vasquez hits the near ropes, rebounding off, leaping high into the
air...

...and coming down HARD backfirst across the downed Rhodes!]

GM:  BACKSPLASH!

BW:  That crushing senton - shades of Tommy Stephens!

GM:  Another cover!  One!  Two!  THR- SHOULDER UP!

BW:  Whew.  That was too close.

[The crowd roars for the near fall as Vasquez slaps the canvas in
frustration off not getting the three count.  Climbing back to his feet,
he wipes the blood from his eyes...

...and drops a crashing elbowsmash down across the chest of Rhodes.  He
quickly regains his feet, dropping another elbowsmash.  The crowd cheers
with each elbow and after five of them have hit the mark, Vasquez spins
into another pin attempt.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THR- shoulder up again!

BW:  Vasquez can't get- wait a second!

[With the crowd roaring, Vasquez grabs the leg of Rhodes, twisting it
around his own leg as he applies an STF!]

GM:  WHOA!  Look at that!

BW:  STF applied by Vasquez and- 

[The crowd cheers louder as Vasquez hooks his fingers in the corner of
Rhodes' mouth, yanking back as he applies the STF.]

GM:  That's a fish hook!  He's fishhooking Rhodes in that hold!

BW:  It's an STF!  Learn something new, Gordo!

GM:  An STF applied by Vasquez but the fish hook is making the referee
call for a break.  One!  Two!  Three!  Four!  Fiv- and another very near
count by the official!  Both of these men are skating very close to a
five count.  

BW:  They're letting their hatred for one another go too far.  They're
both running on emotions right now instead of thinking logically about
what they're doing.

GM:  Vasquez breaks the hold... ohh!  Hard kick to the ribs!

[Standing over Rhodes, Vasquez hauls him up by the hair, pulling him
into a side waistlock.]

GM:  He's got Rhodes hooked... what's gonna happen here?

[Hoisting the Catch Thug into the air for a belly-to-back suplex,
Vasquez slams the back of Rhodes' legs into the top rope, rebounding
back and DRIVING the back of Rhodes' head and neck into the canvas!]

GM:  SLINGSHOT SUPLEX!!  THAT MIGHT DO IT!

BW:  But Vasquez is taking too long to cover him!  He hit the back of
his head as well and it took too much out of him.  He's having trouble
getting over to make the cover.

[With the crowd roaring, Vasquez sits up off the mat...

...and THROWS an arm across the chest of Rhodes!]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!!  THRE- OHHHHHHH!

[The crowd screams in shock as Rhodes fires a shoulder off the mat just
before the three count falls.  A stunned Vasquez slumps backwards,
burying his head in his hands.]

GM:  Vasquez can't believe it!  These fans can't believe it!  They
thought he had Raphael Rhodes beaten right then and there.  These men
have been battling for close to fifteen minutes now and they both look
absolutely exhausted, Bucky.

BW:  That fight outside the ring before the bell really took a lot out
of them.  I don't know how either of them are still standing with the
brutality they've dished out to one another.

GM:  Vasquez is slowly getting back to his feet...

[Again wiping the blood from his eyes, Vasquez pulls Rhodes back to his
feet, hooking in another side waistlock.]

GM:  He's going for it again!  He wants another slingshot suplex!

[Pausing to pull up his strength, Vasquez hoists Rhodes into the air,
walking to the ropes...

...but seems to lose his grip on the Catch Thug, dropping Rhodes in a
straddle on the top rope!]

GM:  OHHHHHH!

BW:  That's it!  Ring the bell!  This one's over!

GM:  What?!

BW:  That was a low blow - a deliberate, intentional low blow!

GM:  It was not!  He lost his grip.  He's too tired, too weary - he
simply slipped out of his hands, Bucky!

BW:  I don't believe that for a single second.

[Rhodes sits on the top rope, anguish covering his face as the crowd
roars.  The referee reprimands a kneeling Vasquez but does not
disqualify him as he slowly gets back to his feet, moving in on Rhodes.]

GM:  Right hand by Vasquez!  And another!  And a third!

[With Rhodes still precariously positioned, Vasquez races to the
adjacent ropes, leaping up to the middle rope...

...and springing back, connecting with both feet in a dropkick squarely
on the jaw of Rhodes which sends the Catch Thug sailing off the ropes,
landing with a SPLAT on the wooden stage!]

GM:  OHHHHHHHH!

BW:  Big fall by Rhodes!  That might be enough to finish him off, Gordo.

GM:  We're about to find out!

[Dropping down to the mat, Vasquez rolls under the ropes to the wooden
stage, leaning against the apron for a moment to catch his breath.]

GM:  Vasquez doesn't want the countout.  I think he could've gotten it
right there but that's not what he wants.  He wants to pin Rhodes.  He
wants to make Rhodes submit.  Nothing else will settle this, Bucky!

BW:  I don't even know if THAT would settle it, Gordo.

GM:  Vasquez out there on the stage with his rival... hard kick to the
ribs... and another.


"TEN MINUTES HAVE EXPIRED!  TWENTY MINUTES REMAIN!"


[Leaning over, Vasquez hauls Rhodes off the wooden floor, tossing him
back under the ropes into the ring as the referee's count reaches
seven.]

GM:  Vasquez puts him back in.  He doesn't want to risk the countout. 
And he rolls back into the ring as well.

[The Los Angeles native gets back to his feet, moving in on Rhodes who
is scooting backwards to the corner.  The Catch Thug is pleading for
mercy as he pulls himself off the mat, begging off as a fired-up Vasquez
approaches...]

GM:  Vasquez is moving in!  He's got Rhodes cornered - right where he
wants him!

[But as the fan favorite nears, Rhodes lunges forward, hooking the
collar of Vasquez' track suit and yanks it over the head of his rival in
a hockey-esque move, pummeling him with forearms and elbows to the head
while Vasquez tries to free himself.]

GM:  Oh, come on!

BW:  Heh heh... you've gotta love that!

GM:  I do?

[With Vasquez fighting to get loose, he pushes the jacket over his head
just in time to get ROCKED with a hard forearm smash to the side of the
jaw that sends Vasquez spiraling back into the buckles, leaning in the
corner as Rhodes approaches from behind...

...and starts rocking Vasquez with hooking blows to the ribs and
kidneys!]

GM:  We saw this earlier tonight... trying to break down the body of his
opponent.

[Spinning Vasquez around, Rhodes grabs him by the wrist, firing him
across the ring.  With a sneer at the crowd, the Catch Thug charges,
leaping into the air with both knees...

...and getting SNATCHED out of the sky, DRIVEN down to the canvas with
an STO!]

GM:  OHHHHHHHHH!

[Vasquez pumps his fists in the air, drawing cheers from the capacity
crowd as he sucks a second wind into his body.  Snatching his fallen
jacket off the mat, he hooks it around the throat of Rhodes, hauling him
up to his feet.]

BW:  Come on, Meekly!  Ring the bell!

GM:  He's counting on the choke - three... four... fiv- breaks it up!

[But he quickly grabs the jacket again, this time HURLING Rhodes through
the air and down to the canvas with the jacket!]

GM:  DOWN GOES RHODES AGAIN!

[Vasquez hurls his jacket over the ropes giving a lucky fan a special
surprise as he stalks across the ring towards Rhodes who is again
scooting backwards towards the corner.  He reaches the buckles but
before he can get off the mat, Vasquez drills him with a lunging knee
into the face.]

GM:  Ohh!  Knee to the face in the corner!

[Holding the top rope, Vasquez drives home knee after knee after knee to
the face of the downed Rhodes, not giving him a second to recover.  The
crowd roars for the blows, the referee trying to yank Vasquez clear...

...and he finally does, causing Vasquez to back away from the buckles,
glaring at the referee.]

GM:  The referee's checking on Rhodes - seeing if he can contin- NO!

[Vasquez spins around, sprinting to the corner and CRUSHING Raphael
Rhodes' face with a running knee to the face!]

GM:  OHHHHHHHHHH! 

BW:  That's gotta do it, Gordo.  It's got to.

GM:  Vasquez drags Rhodes off the mat by the hair...

[The crowd ERUPTS as Vasquez hoists Rhodes off the mat, slinging him
over his shoulder.  With his left hand holding the legs of Rhodes and
the right arm hooking the head, the entire building knows exactly what
Vasquez has in mind...

...but Rhodes has other ideas, desperately grabbing the ropes with his
hands, preventing the City of Angels that would almost certainly end the
match.]

GM:  Rhodes is hanging on to the ropes - trying to block the move!

[Pulling hard, Rhodes manages to yank Vasquez towards the ropes and with
both men tangled up, Rhodes somehow pulls them both over the ropes and
down to the wooden stage below!]

GM:  Oh!  Did you see that?

BW:  Of course I saw it!  I'm sitting right here too!

GM:  Both men over the top.  Both men down to the floor!

[The referee leans over the ropes, checking on both men before starting
another ten count.]

GM:  Mickey Meekly's trying to count them both out.  That may be the
only way to stop this fight, Bucky.  These two have beaten each other to
their very limits and they're both STILL going!

[As the count hits six, Rhodes is the first to roll up to his knees,
breathing heavily as he scans the ringside area.  Nearby, a
crimson-masked Juan Vasquez uses the bottom rope to pull himself off the
floor, tugging himself back into the ring.]

GM:  Vasquez is back in, breaking the count for the moment...

BW:  Uh oh.

GM:  What in the-

[The crowd jeers as Rhodes leans into the announce pit, snatching the
steel chair out from under the timekeeper, dumping him down on the
floor.]

GM:  He's got a chair!  He snatched that steel chair from the
timekeeper!

BW:  Well, this'll definitely end the match - one way or the other.

[Rhodes slides the chair into the ring, rolling under the ropes to
retrieve it.  Referee Mickey Meekly immediately warns Rhodes,
threatening him with disqualification if he uses it.]

GM:  The steel chair is in play but the referee's letting Rhodes know
what'll happen if he swings it.  Rhodes has that chair in his hands and
from the look on his face, I'm not sure he even cares, Bucky.

BW:  Rhodes wants to win this match - that much, I know.  But I don't
know if he wants to win it more than he wants to cave in the skull of
Juan Vasquez once and for all.

[Nudging the referee aside, Rhodes strides over to where Vasquez has
pushed himself up to his knees, and rears waaaaaay back...

...where Mickey Meekly grabs the chair, preventing it from being swung!]

GM:  MEEKLY BLOCKED IT!  MEEKLY BLOCKED IT!

BW:  What right does he have to do that?!

GM:  He stopped Rhodes from using the steel chair on Vasquez!

[Rhodes twists around, tugging on the chair with both hands.  He lets it
go, Meekly falling down as he pulls the chair free.  With Meekly
removing the chair, putting it on the apron, Rhodes dips into his
trunks...

...and comes out with a pair of brass knuckles over his fist.]

GM:  What in the world?  

BW:  He's gonna show Vasquez who REALLY has knockout power!

GM:  Rhodes pulls Vasquez up... RIGHT HAN-

[But Vasquez ducks the blow, pulling Rhodes down in a schoolboy.]

GM:  ROLLUP!  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE- OHHHH!

[The crowd groans as Rhodes drills Vasquez between the eyes with the
knucks from the position on his back.  Before the ref can notice, Rhodes
throws the weapon from the ring.]

GM:  He disposes of the evidence before the referee can see it.  But it
may not matter.  Juan Vasquez is flat on his back.

BW:  I'm not sure he got all of that though, Gordo.  You can't throw a
punch from your back as hard as you can from your feet.  There wasn't a
lot behind it.

GM:  But with those brass knuckles on his hand, he may not have needed a
lot behind it.

[Rhodes applies a quick cover.]

GM:  One!  Two!  Thr- what?!

BW:  He pulled him up!

GM:  What an idiot!  He had this match won, I believe!

BW:  I'm not sure if he did or not but now we'll never know because he
pulled Vasquez up on the pin attempt!

GM:  He must be looking to deliver more punishment.


"FIFTEEN MINUTES HAVE EXPIRED!  FIFTEEN MINUTES REMAIN!"


[A sneering Rhodes pulls the bloodied Vasquez back to his feet, tugging
him into a bearhug...

...and pops his hips, driving Vasquez down to the canvas with a
belly-to-belly suplex!]

GM:  He nailed it!  That'll do it.  One!  Two!  Thr- 

[The crowd jeers wildly as Rhodes pulls Vasquez off the mat again,
smirking at the crowd's reaction.  With a double handful of hair, Rhodes
SLAMS the back of Vasquez' head into the mat, slowly pulling him back
up...

...and doing it again!]

GM:  Twice!  Twice he smashes Vasquez' head into the mat!

[From the kneeling position, he cradles the head of Vasquez, peppering
the cut eyebrow with more short right hands.  After a few more blows, he
climbs back to his feet, dragging Vasquez up as well, and yanking him
into a front facelock...

...just before SPIKING Vasquez skullfirst into the canvas!]

GM:  DDT!  RHODES HITS A DDT!

[Vasquez rolls to his back, a streak of crimson left behind on the
canvas from the point of impact.  A grinning Raphael Rhodes sits on the
canvas next to Vasquez, lightly patting him on the chest before climbing
back to his feet...

...and pointing towards the discarded steel chair on the apron.  He
quickly moves over to grab it.]

GM:  Rhodes is going for the chair again and...

[The crowd ROARS as Meekly grabs the chair again, struggling for control
of it with the Catch Thug... 

...and Rhodes SHOVES it hard at Meekly, knocking the official down with
the chair.]

GM:  Ohhh!  Come on!  The referee is allowing a lot of latitude in this
one.  Meekly held on to the chair but Rhodes shoved him down yet again.

[Rhodes gestures to the top rope as Meekly drops the chair, moving to
get in position for what may be about to come.]

GM:  Wait a second!  The Catch Thug is heading for the high rent
district!

BW:  I know what this is!  He's going up for the flying headbutt!  

GM:  The headbutt off the top?  This is the very move that caused the
problems between these two men so many months ago.  This is the move
Vasquez thought was too risky during the National Tag Team Title
tournament!  

BW:  It may be risky but if he hits it, Juan Vasquez won't make it to
the Rumble, daddy!

GM:  You may be right.  Rhodes to the second rope... now slowly steps to
the top...

[Rhodes steadies himself atop the top turnbuckle, looking out over the
jeering crowd and then down on the motionless Vasquez...

...and then dives from the top, his skull aimed squarely at the bloodied
skull of his rival.]

GM:  HEADBUTT!

[But the seemingly-motionless Vasquez is no longer motionless, snaking
an arm out to his side...

...and pulling the discarded steel chair right in the flight path of the
Catch Thug who plummets downwards, unable to stop his skull from
CRASHING into the solid steel chair!]

GM:  OHHHHHHHHHHH!

[The impact of the blow leaves Rhodes facedown on the chair, unable to
move.  A hard shove from Vasquez rolls Rhodes off him, revealing a small
trickle of blood now on the forehead of the Catch Thug...

...causing the official to do the one thing he loathed doing.]


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


[The crowd reacts with a mixture of shock and disappoinment as they know
exactly what is coming.]

MC:  Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has DISQUALIFIED Juan Vasquez for
use of the steel chair. 

[The boos start to pour down for the decision.]

MC:  Your winner of the match... the "Catch Thug"... RAPHAEL RHODES!

[Somehow the boos manage to get even louder as the barely moving Rhodes
has his arm raised by Mickey Meekly.]

GM:  These two men can't even move.  They're both laid out in the middle
of the ring... what a battle this was but what an unfortunate way to see
it end.  Raphael Rhodes introduced that chair into the ring but it was
Juan Vasquez who ended up using it.  He was disqualified for that... but
I've got a feeling we haven't seen the end of this one.  Fans, don't go
away, we'll be right back with the Rumble!

[The camera holds on the semi-conscious forms of Rhodes and Vasquez for
a moment before fading 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 back up on the backstage interview area where Jason Dane is
standing with the "Gold Bomber" Gary Bright.]

JD:  Welcome back to Memorial Day Mayhem, fans, and the time is nearly
at hand.  We've been talking about it for weeks now but the moment is
here.  In just a few short minutes, the second annual Rumble will begin
with 30 men battling it out to see just who will win a shot at Kolya
Sudakov and the National Championship on the 4th of July.  The names
have flown in from all over the sport for this one but one of the odds
on favorite, especially after his impressive performance two weeks ago,
is this man... Gary Bright!

[Bright nods his head, rocking a big single bicep pose that frames the
face of Jason Dane as he speaks.]

GB:  Since the day I could remember, The Gold Bomber was destined for 
greatness.His crib was adornedwithgold, his clothes made of the finest
baby silk.He never crawled, got on his feet and startedwalking while the
other babies crawled. T ball was no challenge for him, belting 4
homeruns the first time he ever picked up a bat. At the age of 9, he
wrestled and beat men three times his age at the local Y.

[The Gold Bomber looks off into some distance.]

GB: His story should be written on papyrus, passed on by generations,
carved onto the walls of egyptian tombs. His face should be etched on Mt
Rushmore. His biceps should be enshrined in the Hall of Fame of every
sport across the globe.

[Bright rolls his shoulders, brings his hands together and cracks his
knuckles]

GB: Whatever the Gold Bomber wants to do, he does. Whatever he wants, he
gets. There is no one on God's green earth who could impede the majestic
beast on his run to glory. So today as 29 men dream of glory.... as 29
men dream of living the dream....as 29 men reach out to try and grasp
the golden cup...

[Bright pauses as he goes into a side chest pose]

GB: Only the Gold Bomber will beginto carve his name in the annals of
history. Only he can wade his way through a sea of incapable competitors
and he will grab the golden cup. He will stare at each man that walks
into that ring and he will laugh. He will repel any and every attack on
his majestic temple. He will talk the talk and walk the walk. His fury
will be untamed and his righteousness awesome. And when he takes a sip
of that golden cup... only then shall everyone know that story.

This isn't the second coming...

[Bright shakes his head]

GB: It's the day ofreckoning...

[And with that, Bright strides off camera leaving Jason Dane behind with
a quizzical look on his face that he quickly shakes off as another
individual steps on frame...

...an intense-looking Stevie Scott. Stevie also seems anxious, noticably
bouncing up and down.]

JD:  Stevie Scott, it was just YESTERDAY that you were cleared by AWA
doctors to participate in tonight's match after the heinous injury you
received at the hands of the Russians. Tonight, Stevie Scott, you have a
chance to get a little revenge perhaps.

[Stevie nods.]

HSS: Perhaps I do, Jason. Perhaps I do get to, at least, begin the
process. Velikov...it's gonna be a little different for you in there
tonight, isn't it, you old washed-up piece of trash? See, tonight...we
get to see what _you_ are made of. By yourself.

Mark my words, old man. I'm going to see you in there tonight. I don't
care if my number is called first, and yours last. I'm not going
_anywhere_ until I get a chance to get my hands on you. And when you see
me, Vlad, you'll look to your left...you'll look to your right...but
your insurance policy, your protection...

[Stevie lets out a nasally laugh.]

HSS: He's nowhere to be found.

And then? Then, you're going to have to deal with _me_.

JD: And speaking of his "insurance policy," his nephew and AWA National
Champion, Kolya Sudakov...if you were to win tonight, there's the shot
at him waiting for you.

[Stevie nods again.]

HSS: You'd better believe it is, Dane, and you'd better believe I've got
that thought squarely placed in the front of my mind as well. Yes, I
want a piece of Velikov...but if I win tonight...

[Wait for it...Steviegrin~! Well, not really. More of a Steviesmirk~!]

HSS: Correction. _When_ I win tonight, that puts Sudakov right in my
sights.

And champ? I'm not going to miss.

Revenge will drive a man to do a lot of things. It will push himbeyond
limits he never knew he had. It will drive him...night and day, day and
night...until that thirst for vengeance has been quenched.

So tonight is my chance. It's my chance to erase so many mistakes, so
many failures, to get rid of so many demons that haunt me to this day.
It's my chance to get back to the top after nearly hitting rock bottom
almost one year ago. It's been a long, uphill climb, Jason Dane...but I
can see the summit. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, the
pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Ican see it...I can smell it...I
can taste it...I can feel it.

So let's get down to business.

[With that, Stevie slaps Dane on the shoulder and walks away.]

JD: There you have it, a very focused Stevie Scott ready to rumble.

[We fade away from Jason Dane...

...to the ringside announce area where Gordon Myers and Bucky Wilde are
standing.]

GM:  Alright, Jason - thanks for that.  Stevie Scott is focused, Gary
Bright is... well, nuts... but ready as well.  And so are we, fans. 
After all the talk, after all the speculation, after all the hype...
it's time to Rumble.  Bucky Wilde, your final thoughts?

BW:  The key to this match is the luck of the draw, Gordo.  There's a
lot of talented guys in this match.  A lot of big, tough competitors
that could win this thing.  But if you draw an early number, the odds
decrease so, so much for you.  If you remember last year's Rumble, the
former National Champion Ron Houston won the whole thing... but he
didn't get in there until #28!  The draw is absolutely everything,
daddy.

GM:  Any predictions?

BW:  It all depends on the draw but I think guys like Gary Bright or
Tumaffi have to be the favorites due to size and power.  And you can't
overlook someone like Adam Rogers or Marcus Broussard because of their
stamina.  We just saw them go sixty minutes recently and while this is
an entirely different ballgame, that endurance could be huge in a match
like this.

GM:  So, you're hedging your bets?

BW:  I'll make a prediction.

GM:  Which is?

BW:  I predict by the end of the hour, I'll be ready to throw YOU over
the top, Gordo.

GM:  I see.  Fans, get ready for one of the most exciting hours of the
professional wrestling year.  It's time to Rumble!

[We fade away from the announce team to the ring where Melissa Cannon is
standing.]

MC:  Ladies and gentlemen... it is now time for your MAIN EVENT of the
evening.

[BIG ROAR!]

MC:  It is now time for the 30 man invitiational over-the-top-rope
Rumble!

[Another big roar!]

MC:  The rules are as follows.  Earlier today, all 30 men drew a number
at random to determine their order of entry into the match.  Every two
minutes, one man will join the match.  The only way to be eliminated is
to go over the top rope and have BOTH feet touch the floor.  

The last man standing will be your winner of the Rumble, be named the
Number One contender, and will face the National Champion on the 4th of
July for the title!

[One more big roar!]

MC:  And now... let's get ready to Rumble!

[More cheers - even for the cliched line.]

MC:  Introducing first... he is the man who DEMANDED to enter this
Rumble at NUMBER ONE...

["The Thing I Hate" by Stabbing Westward starts up to a large mixed
reaction from the crowd.]

MC:  PURE X!

[Pure X - dressed in his usual attire of a black T-shirt, black boots,
and dark green baggy pants with two cross swords on each leg in the form
of an X - holds his arms up high as he walks into the Arena Theatre.  He
makes his way down the aisle towards the ring, ignoring the mixed
response.]

GM:  Pure X, one of the greatest ring technicians in the AWA, demanded
that he be entered into this Rumble in the Number One spot.  After
witnessing Adam Rogers and Marcus Broussard go the sixty minute distance
on The Main Event, Pure X wanted to show he could do the exact same
thing here tonight in Houston.

BW:  But you said it yourself.  He's a great ring technician.  Does that
equate to being able to toss guys over the top?  We'll have to see. 
Traditionally, it's the big, bulky brawlers that do well in a battle
royal environment.  The technicians?  Not so much.

GM:  Pure X had a little mini-battle royal a few weeks ago, showing some
of the skills he'll need to use here tonight.  One thing that X won't be
able to count on is the support of the AWA fans here in Houston.  This 
guy... no one seems to be able to figure him out.  One week they like
him, one week he acts like a jerk.  I don't expect he'll have many
cheers coming his way tonight.

BW:  Who needs 'em?  They just make you do things you shouldn't do.

[X steps into the ring, climbing up to the middle rope to soak up some
more of the mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd.]

MC:  And now... the man who drew #2...

[LL Cool J's "Mama Said Knock You Out" starts up to a big cheer from the
Houston fans.  After a moment, the grizzled veteran Soup Bone Samson
emerges from the locker room area.]

BW:  Well, at least Pure X will get one elimination.

GM:  What makes you say that?

BW:  Do you really think some senior citizen can eliminate X?

GM:  Soup Bone Samson, while a bit older than many of our superstars, is
a tough competitor.  He won't go down without a fight.

[With his trademark dog collar and chain around his neck, Samson walks
to the ring, slapping hands with everyone along the aisle as he heads to
the ring.  He removes the dog collar, dropping it at ringside as he
steps through the ropes into the ring...

...and Pure X charges towards him as the referee rings the bell to
officially start the second annual Rumble!]

GM:  And the Rumble is underway!

[X quickly moves Soup Bone Samson against the ropes with a pair of
chops.  Once there, he leans over, grabbing Samson around the upper
thigh and tries to up-end him over the ropes to the floor.]

GM:  Pure X is already going for an elimination!

BW:  It's a smart move, Gordo.  You said it yourself.  Samson's a rough
and tough guy in there plus he's got that knockout punch that could end
your night in a hurry.  It's a good idea to try to get him out of the
ring as quickly as you can.

GM:  Plus, we heard on AWA Access earlier that Soup Bone Samson has made
a pact with Sweet Heat to watch each other's backs in this thing.  That
could have a big impact later in the match.

BW:  If he lasts that long.  A sixty year old man ain't goin' an hour in
this, I promise you that.

GM:  Sixty years old... give me a break, Bucky.

[With one arm over the rope, Samson uses the other to pound away with
forearms to the back of the doubled-up Pure X, trying to batter the ring
technician away from him.]

GM:  Samson's trying to fight back... trying to get out of Pure X's
grip...

[A hard forearm shot actually causes Pure X to back away, clutching his
lower back...

...and a blistering left hand knocks X off his feet, sending him
scampering away, trying to get away from the big brawler.]

GM:  He knocks X off his feet!

[Pure X pulls himself up to his feet as Samson approaches.  X shoots
towards him, moving behind in a rear waistlock...

...but a sharp rear elbow smash breaks that hold as well, causing X to
fall back into the ropes.  Samson spins around, moving in on X again.]

GM:  Pure X is backed against the ropes... Samson holding him there...

[Bending over, Samson uncorks a hard hooking blow to the ribcage of Pure
X, causing the technician to drop down to a knee.]

GM:  Good grief!  What a shot to the ribs!

BW:  With the power in the hands of Soup Bone Samson, a blow like that
could break a rib in an instant, Gordo.

GM:  It certainly could.

[Samson yanks X back to his feet, firing him into the ropes, and
leveling him with a big backdrop!]

GM:  Sky high backdrop by Samson!  Pure X goes down hard!

[The veteran stands across the ring from the recovering X, leaning on
the ropes and waving for Pure X to get back to his feet.  The big
brawler has the crowd roaring as X slowly climbs back, using the ropes
to pull himself up...

...and charges towards him, arm outstretched!]

GM:  CLOTHESLINE!

[The beefy arm connecting with the throat of Pure X sends X sailing over
the ropes...

...but the technician clings to the same ropes, crashing down on the
ring apron.]

GM:  Ohhh!  He landed on the apron!  I thought that was it right there,
Bucky.  I thought he was going over the ropes to the floor right there. 
It was going to be a short night for Pure X.

[With Pure X out on the apron, he rolls under the ropes, avoiding
elimination.  A surprised Samson is celebrating what he believes is an
elimination despite the crowd warning him otherwise...

...which allows X to charge across the ring, leaping into the air to
grab Samson's head with two hands, and DRIVE it into the canvas with a
makeshift bulldog headlock!]

GM:  OHHHH!  He caught him with that!  Sort of a bulldog, sort of a
faceslam of sorts.  Pure X caught him with that though whatever you want
to call it.

[And for the first time of the night, the countdown begins.]

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The crowd bursts into jeers as the arrogant technician from Australian,
Adrian Freeman, walks into the Arena Theatre in Houston.]

BW:  Freeman!  Adrian Freeman drew #3!

GM:  That's bad news for him.  I thought he was one of the favorites
going in but it's incredibly difficult to last the whole hour but coming
in at #3, that's exactly what Freeman would need to do.

BW:  Freeman has a lot of endurance - a lot of stamina.  If anyone could
go the distance, it might be him, Gordo.

GM:  You may be right.

[Freeman trots the rest of the way down the aisle, diving headfirst
under the bottom rope into the ring.  Pure X is immediately on him,
catching him with a knee to the midsection as the Australian starts to
get up.  A pair of chops backs him into the corner before X grabs the
wrist, firing him across.]

GM:  Irish whip... clothesli- ducked by Freeman... 

[Freeman attempts a clothesline of his own but Pure X ducks that one,
racing to the ropes.  The two technicians charge back towards one
another.]

GM:  Here they come...

[Pure X drops down into a baseball slide, hooking the legs of the
oncoming Freeman, pulling them out from under him...

...and rolling right up into a single leg Boston Crab!]

GM:  Whoa!  Did you see that?!

BW:  How did he come up with that?

[With the Boston Crab applied, X yanks back hard on Freeman's leg,
sending up a cry of pain from the Australian.  Using his upper body
strength, Freeman rolls to his side...

...then rolls all the way to his back, kicking up with his legs into the
chest of Pure X, knocking him back into the ropes.  X's momentum causes
him to bounce back, taken down to the mat with a drop toehold that
Freeman quickly turns into a camel clutch.]

GM:  Whoa!  These two are trading holds like lightning!

BW:  I don't know if either of these holds are exactly useful in a
battle royal environments but I think this is different, Gordo.  This is
two of the best technicians in the AWA trying to show the world exactly
what they're capable of.  And they're trying to show each other as well!
 Adrian Freeman's been in the AWA for over a year, trying to prove he's
the best in the world on the mat and Pure X's words about being the best
in the ring can't sit well with him.

[With the camel clutch applied, Freeman pulls back on the chin...

...and then straightens up, blasting Pure X across the cheekbone with a
brutal crossface forearm smash.  He repeats the process on the other
side, knocking Pure X flat on his face on the mat.]

GM:  Goodness!

BW:  I told you, Gordo.  He didn't care about using the camel clutch. 
He just wanted to show Pure X and everyone else that he could hook it on
him.

[Freeman stomps down hard on the back of Pure X's head, smashing his
face into the mat.  Peeling off of Pure X, Freeman walks over to Soup
Bone Samson who is pulling himself up to his feet...

...and lights up his chest with a knife-edge chop.  Grabbing him by the
head, Freeman drives in a short right hands to the temple of the
grizzled veteran as the countdown starts up again.]

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The curtain parts and the 6'7, 275 pound beast known as "Pure Power"
Jerry Titus comes trotting down the aisle.  The fans react with polite
applause, fairly unfamiliar with the big man.]

GM:  "Pure Power" Jerry Titus - the first man here tonight taking
advantage of the AWA's Open Door policy to step into the Rumble.  What
an opportunity this is for him.

BW:  That's right.  In one night, he could make his AWA debut, win the
Rumble, become the Number One contender, and win a shot at the National
Title in just over a month's time.

GM:  That's what is so amazing about the Open Door policy.  It allows
the best in the world the chance to step into the AWA and instantly
become a player.

[Titus slides under the ropes into the ring, popping up to his feet
where he finds Adrian Freeman moving in on him...

...and he charges "Subzero", flooring him with a running shoulder tackle
that the crowd reacts favorably to!]

GM:  Whoa!  Big tackle by a big, big man.

BW:  That's a 275 pound tackle, Gordo!

[Titus spins around, spotting Soup Bone Samson moving towards him...

...and hoists him off the mat, holding him over his shoulder.]

GM:  Look at that!  He scooped up Samson and has him up!

BW:  He's carrying Samson around like he's a small child, Gordo. 
Samson's close to three hundred pounds!  He's not some light
heavyweight!

GM:  Nevertheless, Titus picked him up like it was nothing and...

[Charging out of the corner, Titus DRIVES Samson down to the canvas with
a running powerslam!]

GM:  OHHHHH MY!

[Titus springs to his feet, throwing his arms back and letting loose a
primal cry as the crowd roars to life for the big beast.]

GM:  Well, I think the fans are sold on this guy, Bucky!

BW:  I think I'M sold on this guy, Gordo!

GM:  Jerry Titus is cleaning house in a big way here in Houston!

[Pure X regains his feet behind the big man, moving in to hook a full
nelson.]

GM:  Here it comes!  That full nelson suplex that Pure X uses!

BW:  So much for the big night for Tit-

[The crowd EXPLODES as Titus suddenly jerks his arms down, breaking the
full nelson with ease...

...and picks the stunned Pure X up, pressing him at full extension
towards the sky!]

GM:  GORILLA PRESS ON PURE X!

[Titus starts to walk towards the ropes, ready to deposit Pure X on the
floor and score the first elimination of the night...

...but with desperation in his eyes, Pure X snakes a hand down to cover
the nose of Titus, obscuring his breathing long enough for the ring
technician to slip out of the press slam, landing on his feet behind
Titus, and leaping into the air, snaring Titus in a sleeperhold!]

GM:  SLEEPER!  SLEEPERHOLD IS ON!  Fans, don't go away, we'll be right
back!

[We fade away from the Arena Theatre.

After a moment, we fade back up on a shot of Jason Dane and Mark
Stegglet in an apparently moving car.]

JD:  Hey, AWA fans - so much of our lives are now spent on-the-go,
wouldn't you love to be able to keep track of your favorite AWA
superstars when you're away from home?

MS:  I know I would, Jason!  And I'd also love to have a place to put
out all those rumors we hear during the week that never make AWA
Saturday Night Wrestling.

JD:  You've got that right.  Wouldn't it be great if we could combine
both of those ideas into one?

[Suddenly, a giant graphic of an iPhone appears between them!]

JD & MS:  NOW WE CAN!

[A voiceover takes over - thank God.]

VO:  Starting today, you can download AWA Access - a great new
application for your iPhone where you can get all the AWA news, rumors,
and happenings before the rest of the world.  And don't forget to check
out the "exclusive" section for matches that never aired!  AWA Access -
coming to an iPhone near you!

[Fade back to black...

...and then back up on live action where the countdown is just about
over.]

"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"
"BZZZZZ!"

[The crowd ERUPTS as the former National Champion, Marcus Broussard,
comes jogging down the aisle towards the ring.]

GM:  The San Jose Shark draws #5!

BW:  One year ago, Broussard almost won this whole thing but he drew a
much later number.  Plus with his new attitude, I don't think he stands
a chance to go the distance this year.

GM:  We're about to find out!

[Broussard slides headfirst under the ropes, popping to his feet where
he promptly snaps off a hard right hand to the jaw of Pure X, knocking
him back into the ropes.  Spinning to face other challenges, Marcus hits
a double axehandle across the back of a rising Soup Bone Samson.  A boot
to the gut of the rising Jerry Titus slows the big man down as well.]

GM:  Broussard's all over everyone in the ring!

[And then he makes a beeline straight for Adrian Freeman, shoving him
back into the corner where he tears into the Australian with punches and
chops.]

GM:  He's all over Freeman!

BW:  Well, that's not a surprise after the way Freeman and Dufresne have
beaten down Rogers and Broussard the past month or so.  

GM:  Broussard's on the midbuckle!

[The crowd roars as the San Jose Shark starts raining down blows on the
head of the stunned Freeman.]

GM:  Punches in the corner!  Three... four... five... these fans are
going nuts counting along for the former National Champion!

BW:  And you just know Broussard would LOVE another chance to win his
title back.  It's been a long time that he's been without it but tonight
could the night he takes a long step towards getting it back.

GM:  Eight... nine... ten!

[The Shark jumps down off of Freeman...

...and just narrowly sidesteps a big charge by Jerry Titus that ends up
with a running clothesline crashing into the Australian!]

GM:  OHHHHH!  

BW:  Broussard got out of the way just barely!

[The powerful Titus turns around...

...and gets the arms of Broussard wrapped around him in a bearhug.  The
San Jose Shark pauses for a moment before popping his hips, taking the
beast down in a belly-to-belly suplex!]

GM:  BELLY TO BELLY!  BELLY TO BELLY BY BROUSSARD!

[Lunging back into the corner, Broussard wraps his hands around the
throat of the dazed Adrian Freeman, choking the life out of the
Australian in the buckles...

...but a big double axehandle blow from Pure X breaks up the chokehold.]

GM:  Ohh!  Now, would you look at this?

[X holds Broussard's arms behind him, leaving him exposed as Freeman
steps up...

...and pops the San Jose Shark with a big chop across the pectorals!]

GM:  Good grief!  What a shot by Freeman!  I can't believe these two are
working together after they beat each other up so much at the start of
this match.

BW:  It's every man for himself in there, Gordo.  You just never know
who you'll see working together... or against each other for that
matter!  We've got the National Tag Team Champs in this thing at some
point.  Maybe they'll square off and throw down!

GM:  I highly doubt that.

[Freeman continues to assault the helpless Broussard while Pure X keeps
him defenseless as the countdown starts once again...]

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The crowd EXPLODES into jeers as one-half of the mighty Russians,
Vladimir Velikov, walks into view.  The burly veteran appears to be in
no hurry as he eases down the aisle, the heavy Russian steel chain
draped over his broad shoulders.]

GM:  Vladimir Velikov is the sixth man into the 2009 Rumble!

BW:  Well, that's not good news for Vlad.  Whereas Freeman has the
stamina to go the distance, I don't think Velikov does.  He's big, he's
bad, he's tough, he's strong... but he's also going to have a long night
in front of him if he's going to pull this off.

GM:  He sure is taking his time getting to the ring, Bucky.

BW:  That's smart.  No need to run out there and tire yourself out.

[Velikov finally reaches the ring, rolling into the ring, and getting to
his feet.  His eyes scan the ring, looking at the other five men inside
the squared circle.  He looks past the corner where Soup Bone Samson and
Jerry Titus are struggling...

...and then rushes the other side of the ring, joining Adrian Freeman
and Pure X in the assault on Marcus Broussard.]

GM:  Velikov joins the attack on the Shark!  And that's not a surprise
to me, Bucky.  

BW:  Velikov made it well known that he's looking to protect the title
tonight.  He's out to take out the top challengers and Marcus Broussard
definitely fits in that category.

GM:  Velikov and Freeman are taking turns with blows to the defenseless
former National Champion and these two are no strangers to one another. 
We all remember WarGames last year with these two men on the same team.

[The crowd jeers as Freeman hits a chop on Broussard and then Velikov
follows up with a right hand.  The two men repeat the process for
several moments before Pure X throws Broussard down to the mat.  Freeman
immediately starts stomping the San Jose Shark.]

GM:  "Subzero" stays on the attack on Broussard...

[Velikov and Pure X stare one another down for a moment, Velikov
seemingly sizing up the technician...

...and then peels off, joining Freeman in the assault on the former
National Champion.]

GM:  Velikov and Freeman are all ov- WHOA!

[The crowd reacts with surprise as Jerry Titus throws Samson halfway
across the ring with a huge hiptoss...

...and then FLOORS a surprised Pure X with a running clothesline!]

GM:  Jerry Titus is not about making allies here tonight.  He is hitting
anyone and everyone that looks in his direction.

[Which includes Vladimir Velikov who falls victim to a crunching right
hand that causes the big Russian to fall back in the buckles.  Freeman
slips a knee into the kidneys of Titus, stopping him short...

...and then SNAPS him down to the mat with a reverse neckbreaker!]

GM:  Ohh!  Freeman takes down Titus!

[Velikov and the rising Pure X join the attack on Titus while Freeman
moves back in on Broussard, dragging him to his feet and drilling him
with a forearm to the ear.  With the Shark back in the corner, Freeman
lights him up with chops.  On the other side of the ring, Velikov and
Pure X drag Soup Bone Samson to his feet, executing a double whip,
flooring Samson with a double back elbow as the countdown starts
again...]

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[Freeman and Velikov are working over Broussard in the corner when
suddenly the Arena Theatre crowd EXPLODES!]

GM:  What the-?!  JAIDEN ANDREWS?!

BW:  Jaiden Andrews is the seventh man in the Rumble!  I don't believe
it!

GM:  This kid made his debut in Pro Wrestling Revolution and became one
of the top stars - arguably THE top star in PWR - and ever since then,
he's toured the globe in some of the top promotions in the world.

[Jaiden dives under the ropes into the ring, popping up to his feet.  He
charges the corner, throwing fists at Freeman and Velikov.]

GM:  Jaiden wastes no time!  The Open Door policy is alive and running
wild here tonight in Houston!  Well, I guess we know one of the final
three members in the Rumble!  We had three mystery spots left - now
there's just two!

BW:  Actually, there's three, Gordo.

GM:  Huh?

BW:  The Championship Committee just announced that Estrella Fugaz
missed his flight from Mexico.  He's being replaced in the match as
well.

GM:  By who?

BW:  No idea.  I guess we'll find out.

[With Freeman reeling, Jaiden Andrews leaps into the air, snagging
Freeman with his legs and taking him down with a rana.  He kips back up,
blasting an oncoming Velikov with a right hand.]

GM:  You talk about guys that Velikov feels are a threat to Sudakov and
the gold, you'd HAVE to add Jaiden Andrews to that list.

BW:  I'd imagine so.  And I believe their paths have crossed before,
Gordo.

GM:  I think you're right.

[Andrews drives fist after fist to the head of Vladimir Velikmov in the
corner.  On the other side of the ring, Pure X has Soup Bone Samson up
against the ropes again, trying to tip him over the ropes...

...when suddenly Jerry Titus joins the fray.  He grabs Pure X AND
Samson, tipping them both over the top!]

GM:  TITUS!

[Samson sails over the ropes, crashing down to the floor below but
somehow Pure X manages to land on the apron yet again, snaking back in
under the ropes to avoid elimination.]

GM:  Samson's gone!  Soup Bone Samson is the first man eliminated from
the 2009 Rumble and that's all thanks to "Pure Power" Jerry Titus,
Bucky!

BW:  Titus is a beast.  A monster.  If I wasn't retired, I might give
this guy a call.  He could use my strategy to make him a champion in
this sport.

GM:  I'm sure he's tempted.  We're down to six men in the ring.  Pure X,
Adrian Freeman, Jerry Titus, Marcus Broussard, Vladimir Velikov, and
Jaiden Andrews!

[Velikov and Freeman are still getting worked over by a flurry from
Jaiden Andrews while Marcus Broussard drags himself up to his feet using
the ropes.  Jerry Titus is delivering punishing forearm smashes against
the ropes on Pure X.]

GM:  Jaiden's still all- ohh!  Velikov rakes the eyes of Jaiden Andrews!

[And a lumbering clothesline from Velikov knocks Andrews off his feet. 
The big Russian wraps his hands around the throat of Jaiden, squeezing
the air out of him as the San Jose Shark staggers towards the fray,
throwing a short right hand at Adrian Freeman, keeping him back in the
corner.  A few chops connect, rocking the Australian down to a knee.]

GM:  Look at Titus!  He's got Pure X in trouble!  He's got X leaning
over the ropes and-

[Pure X drives his foot down into the kneecap of Titus, causing him to
stumble away...

...where Pure X lunges forward, slamming his shoulder into the back of
Titus' knee in a clip, taking Titus down to the mat.]

GM:  Ohh!  He clipped him!  He took the knee out!


"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The jeers are deafening as the "Ladykiller" Calisto Dufresne comes
jogging down the aisle, rolling under the ropes into the ring...

...and DRILLS Broussard in the back of the head and neck, knocking the
San Jose Shark down to a knee.]

GM:  Calisto Dufresne wasting no time in hitting the ring and saving his
tag team partner.  The Ladykiller and Freeman have made an impressive
unit for almost a year now - you have to imagine they'll be looking for
a shot at the National Tag Team Titles in the near future as well.  But
tonight, tonight is about the Rumble and the National Championship.

BW:  Seven men in the ring... and most of them don't like Marcus
Broussard.  This isn't a good night for the San Jose Shark at this point
of the match.

GM:  Freeman and Dufresne have Broussard trapped in the corner, working
him over with punches and kicks to the body.  This is exactly what these
two wanted tonight.  They wanted to get Broussard or Rogers alone in
there with both of them and they wanted to go to town on them.

[Across the ring, Pure X ties up Jerry Titus in a spinning toe hold
while Jaiden Andrews and Vladimir Velikov trade shots a few feet away. 
Velikov hits a clubbing blow to the back of the head, pulling Andrews
into a scoop as he walks towards the ropes.]

GM:  Velikov's got him up!  He's looking to toss Jaiden to the floor!

BW:  There's an Open Door and Vlad's looking to toss this punk kid right
out it, daddy!

GM:  Here they go!

[But as they get close to the ropes, Andrews hooks an arm over the top
rope, saving himself as Velikov tosses him over the top.  Velikov kicks
and stomps at Jaiden Andrews, trying to knock him off the apron to the
floor.  Across the ring, Dufresne and Freeman drag Broussard out of the
buckles, snapping him over with a double suplex...

...and then Freeman PASTES a nearby Pure X with a right hand to the side
of the face that knocks the technician off his feet!]

GM:  Ohh!  I'm not sure I understand that.  Pure X wasn't doing anything
to Freeman and had actually helped him out earlier in the Rumble.  Why
draw his ire right now?

BW:  Because he can!  Freeman doesn't like people.  I'm not really sure
if he even likes Dufresne but he knows the Ladykiller can help him
win... win tag matches, win singles matches, and maybe even win the
Rumble here tonight.

[Pulling Broussard off the canvas, Dufresne plants a boot in his gut,
hooking a front facelock...

...but Pure X springs to his feet, drilling Freeman with a right hand
before connecting with a high knee to the back of Dufresne, breaking up
his DDT attempt.]

GM:  Pure X stops the DDT by Dufresne!

BW:  And there's history between those two men too.  Back in the PWR
days.  

GM:  Pure X, Jaiden Andrews, and Calisto Dufresne all got their first
big break in Pro Wrestling Revolution but now they're tangling in the
second annual Rumble here in the AWA!

[With Dufresne against the ropes, Pure X batters him with rights and
lefts before hooking a front facelock, leaping up to scissor the body of
the Ladykiller.]

BW:  That's a guillotine choke!  Pure X putting some MMA style holds to
use here in the Rumble and-

GM:  Ohh!  Freeman with a stomp right to the head!  That breaks up the
hold!

[Jaiden Andrews brings the fans to their feet by perfectly executing a
dropkick, sending Freeman sailing over the ropes onto the apron...

...but Andrews isn't quick enough to follow up on it, allowing Freeman
to pull himself back in, blasting the incoming Andrews with a right hand
of his own.]

GM:  We're at a stalemate at the moment here.  No one seems able to get
an advantage on- LOOK OUT!

[A dazed Broussard regains his feet only to be DRILLED in the back of
the head and neck with a running clothesline by Vladimir Velikov,
knocking the Shark back down to the canvas.]

GM:  A version of the Russian Sickle there by Velikov, taking a page out
of his nephew's playbook.

BW:  And look at this, Gordo.

[The slightly-over three hundred pound Velikov drops a big knee down on
the skull of Broussard, staying on the canvas to choke the former
National Champion repeatedly as Dufresne and Freeman work over Jaiden
Andrews in the corner.]

GM:  And if it wasn't already obvious, it appears that Velikov is
renewing his team with Calisto Dufresne and Adrian Freeman from last
year's WarGames.  But you can bet Stevie Scott won't be joining that
alliance whenever he gets out here.

BW:  Vlad may punch him in the throat as soon as he sees him.

GM:  And we're about to be joined by a seventh man in the match.


"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[All eyes turn to the entrance to see the man who drew #9 in the
Rumble...

...the "Gold Bomber" Gary Bright!]

GM:  Here comes the powerhouse! 

BW:  The strongest man in the Rumble field and the strongest man in the
entire AWA!

GM:  I'm guessing there's a few guys in this field who might question
that.

BW:  Well, they'd be wrong, Gordo.  Just look at him!

[The massively musculed Bright jogs down the aisle, stopping to show a
few female fans his huge biceps before stepping up the ringsteps,
climbing through the ropes...

...and promptly grabbing the nearest man, in this case Pure X, by the
hair, HURLING him down to the canvas!]

GM:  Ohh!  I think Pure X hit the back of his head on the mat right
there!

[Seeing fresh blood, Dufresne and Freeman whip Jaiden Andrews in the
direction of the powerhouse who promptly presses him high over his
head...]

GM:  Look out!  This may be it for Jaiden Andrews right here!

[The crowd buzzes as Bright turns a complete 360, showing off his
strength...

...and finds himself staring straight at Jerry Titus.]

GM:  Uh oh!  "Pure Power" might be one of those to take exception to
Bright's claims of being the strongest man in this match!  Jerry Titus
is a powerhouse in his own rights, Bucky!

BW:  He is, he is... but he's no Gold Bomber, daddy!

[Bright glares at Titus, not even struggling to hold the weight of
Jaiden Andrews high above the ring even though he's been doing it for
several seconds at this point.  Titus doesn't budge an inch, slapping a
beefy hand across his chest, waving for Bright to "bring it."]

GM:  Titus wants to do this!  He wants Bright to give him the best he's-
OHHHHH!

[The crowd gasps as Bright, without warning, HURLS Jaiden Andrews
towards Jerry Titus...

...and then ROARS as Titus easily catches Jaiden Andrews in his massive
arms.]

GM:  He caught him!  He caught him!  Can you believe that?

[And this time, it's Titus who gorilla presses Andrews high overhead!]

GM:  WHAT POWER!

BW:  I can't believe it!

GM:  Look at Gary Bright!  He can't believe it either!  He can't-

[Bright starts to charge Titus who steps forward, dropping Jaiden
Andrews to the mat behind him as he blasts the incoming Bright with a
huge forearm smash to the cheers of the crowd.]

GM:  Big forearm shot by Titus!  And another!  And another!  And
another!

[The barrage of forearms knocks Bright back against the ropes...

...where he springs back out, connecting with a huge right hand that
rattles Jerry Titus.  A second haymaker hits the mark as well.  A third
causes Titus to drop to a knee.  With Titus on his knees, Bright grabs
"Pure Power" around the neck.]

GM:  Choke!  The powerhouse is choking Titus and- where is Jaiden
Andrews going?

[The fiesty fan favorite runs to the ropes, springing back towards Titus
and Bright...

...who snatch him out of the sky, each man catching Andrews over a
shoulder, holding him by the leg!]

GM:  What are they- DOUBLE SPINEBUST- NO!

[The crowd EXPLODES as Andrews somehow turns the double spinebuster into
a double DDT on the two massive powerhouses!]

GM:  OHHHHH!  DOUBLE DDT!  DOUBLE DDT!

BW:  How in the world did he do that?!

GM:  I have no idea but Jaiden Andrews, one of the smallest men in the
match, just took out two of the biggest!  Incredible!  Absolutely
incred- here's the countdown again.

BW:  This'll be the tenth man, Gordo.  We're almost a third of the way
through this!

GM:  And only one man has been eliminated!  Can you believe that?


"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The crowd cheers as Scott Pain appears in the aisleway, trotting down
the aisle.]

GM:  Scott Pain is #10!  Not a bad draw.

BW:  For him it is.  He's big, he's old... no chance he can last over
forty minutes, Gordo.  

[Pain steps up on the apron, climbing through the ropes...

...and wrapping a hand around the throat of a nearby Adrian Freeman!]

GM:  He's got Freeman!  Pain's got Freeman!

[Dufresne comes over to assist...

...and gets caught around the throat as well!]

GM:  DOUBLE CHOKE!  PAIN'S GOT 'EM BOTH!

[The crowd roars as Pain hoists both men off the mat, SPIKING them on
the canvas with a double chokeslam!]

GM:  OHHHH MY!

[Pain pumps a fist of triumph in the air, the crowd roaring in
respeonse.  He spins around at the cheers, calling for more...

...and walks right into a dropkick from Jaiden Andrews, catching Pain
right on the chin, knocking the big man off-balance where a nearby Pure
X takes advantage, grabbing Pain by the trunks and HURLING him over the
ropes to the floor!]

GM:  Ohhh!  Scott Pain is gone!

BW:  That didn't take long!

GM:  Pure X eliminates Scott Pain from the match.  His first elimination
in this Rumble so far.  Eight men remain in the ring.  

BW:  Pain didn't even last a minute, did he?

GM:  It must've been pretty close and Scott Pain has gotta be
disappointed about his performance in this ring tonight, Bucky.

BW:  Maybe it's time to hang it up.

GM:  I'll let you tell him that.

[With Pain taking the long walk of shame back up the aisle, looking back
with disbelief, Pure X and Jaiden Andrews tangle up near the ropes,
trading right hands.]

GM:  Jaiden may be a little upset that Pure X took the elimination of
Pain after Andrews had him shaky.  

BW:  It doesn't matter who gets the elimination.  What an egomaniac.

GM:  X with a knee to the gut... ohhh!  He snaps him over in a suplex!

[Titus, Bright, Freeman, and Dufresne are down on the mat with Broussard
and Velikov trading blows on one side of the ring.  On the canvas, Pure
X grabs the foot of Andrews, twisting it into a spinning toehold to
crank up the pressure on the knee.]

GM:  We've got bodies strewn everywhere in the ring right now.  Eight
men still in the ring... two men have been eliminated so far in this
match.  Pure X has gotta be starting to feel the drain a bit, Bucky.

BW:  Pure X was the first man in the Rumble - at his choice, I might add
- so with the eleventh man about to enter the ring, he's been out here
for twenty minutes or so.  That'll wear a man down in a hurry.

GM:  Adrian Freeman's been out there a while too.  

BW:  As I predicted.

[With a few right hands, Broussard knocks Velikov back into the corner. 
The San Jose Shark pulls out of the corner, grabbing a chokeslammed
Dufresne off the mat, looking to toss him to the floor.]

GM:  Handful of Dufresne's hair... HERE HE- ohhh!  Dufresne rakes the
eyes of Broussard to block the throw over the top.  

BW:  Smart move by the Ladykiller.

GM:  Desperate move if you ask me.  The former National Champion was
going to toss him to the floor.  

BW:  Sure he was.  Gordo, we're talking about the eight men inside the
ring but really... do ANY of them stand a chance?  Think about the
twenty men we haven't seen in here yet!  Men like Shane Destiny,
Tumaffi, Vasquez, Rhodes, Rogers, Slater...

GM:  And don't forget those mystery men.  It's gonna be a long, hard
road for someone to make it all the way to the end - for ANYONE - let
alone these eight men inside the squared circle.  Whoops - there's the
countdown so there's about to be nine men in there!


"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[All eyes turn to the entrance yet again...]

GM:  JOHN SHOCK!

BW:  WHAT?!

GM:  Another mystery man has arrived in the Rumble!

[Shock sprints down the aisle, sliding headfirst under the ropes where
he quickly gets to his feet, scoring with a standing dropkick on the
rising Jerry Titus, knocking him back to the buckles.  A second dropkick
connects on the also-rising Gary Bright, knocking him to the ropes.]

GM:  Shock's the proverbial house of fire!

[Freeman and Dufresne attack Shock from behind, connecting with a
barrage of punches.  They each grab an arm, firing Shock off to the
ropes.]

GM:  Shock off the ropes... ducks the clothesline...

[On the rebound, Shock leaps to the middle rope, springing back with a
cross body that takes out both Dufresne AND Freeman!  He leaps back to
his feet, pumping a fist...

...and then charges a few steps, scoring with a flying forearm smash
that connects with the massive skull of Vladimir Velikov, knocking him
off his feet!]

GM:  Shock is hitting everyone in the ring!  He's all ov- ohh!  Pure X
nails him from behind!  These two may have some unfinished business from
another promotion!

[X grabs Shock by the wrist, firing him across the ring.]

GM:  Corner to corner whip by X... here he comes!

[A running back elbow is aimed for the jaw of John Shock...

...but the Texan dives out of the way, causing Pure X to smash backfirst
into the buckles, causing nearly a whiplash effect as he hits the
corner.  Shock sprints across the ring, spinning around and charging
back in...]

GM:  SHOOOOOOCCCCCCK KICK!

[The running Yakuza kick NAILS Pure X under the chin, knocking the
technician flat as can be in the corner.  Shock, feeling the moment,
ducks through the ropes out to the apron.]

GM:  Shock steps out to the apron on his own.  You don't see that too
much in a battle royal, Bucky.

BW:  He's a Texan.  What do you expect?

GM:  He's out here on the apron by our desk... hopefully he- 

[Without warning, Shock leaps to the top rope, springing off in a
breathtaking Shooting Star Press...

...right onto a pile of grapplers in the middle of the ring!]

GM:  OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

[The crowd echoes the cry of Gordon Myers as John Shock's body collides
with Bright, Titus, Jaiden Andrews, and Marcus Broussard, wiping them
all out in one shot.]

GM:  SHOOOOOOCK WAAAAAAVE!  WHAT A MOVE!!

BW:  Everyone's laid out!  John Shock laid out the entire Rumble field!

GM:  John Shock, a Rumble entry out of nowhere.  He wasn't even listed
on the rumored names I'd been hearing!  Shock just took out everyone
with one Shock Wave!

BW:  Not to mention that Shock Kick on Pure X - settling some old
business perhaps.

GM:  Everyone's down!  Everyone's laid out!  We've gotta take a quick
break!  Stick around, fans - we'll be right back!

[We fade away from the shot of the pile of bodies in the middle of the
Rumble ring...

...and then back up on a white screen.  The voice of Gordon Myers is
heard.]

"The AWA took 2008 by storm - breaking the mold of a modern wrestling
promotion.  And now, in 2009, we look to be hotter than ever.

But what if... you missed the beginning?"

[Red text appears on the screen.]

"AWA: YEAR ONE!"

[The text spins out of view to be replaced by a series of still photos
showing action from the first year of AWA action.]

"Witness highlights from the first AWA Saturday Night Wrestling.

See the very first AWA Rumble.

Highlights from Memorial Day Mayhem, The Last Stampede, Thanksgiving
weekend, and much, much more.

Plus, full matches including the 2008 Match of the Year - WarGames!

All of this fantastic AWA action will be available exclusively on DVD
and iTunes!  Check your local stores for details!"

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

...and then back up inside the Arena Theatre where Mike Anderson has
obviously joined the fray, pulling people to the side and delivering
hard right hands.]

GM:  Welcome back, fans.  Mike Anderson came in at #12 during the
break... taking the spot of one of the Rough N Ready members since they
are no longer in the building.  Anderson came in tonight thinking he was
an alternate so who knows how prepared he is for this.

BW:  How could you not be prepared even if there's the slightest chance
you'd get into the Rumble?  You'd have to be a real idiot to not take
advantage of this opportunity.

GM:  Anderson's got Gary Bright in the corner, rocking him with right
hands to the side of the jaw...

[Bright slaps the hands away, wrapping his hands around the throat of
Anderson...

...and hoisting him straight up in a double choke!]

GM:  Look at the power of Bright- and he just THROWS Anderson down to
the mat!

[Bright stalks past Anderson, grabbing Broussard by the back of the
head, yanking him back towards him...

...and powering him into a full nelson!]

GM:  Full nelson is on... look out!

[Hoisting Broussard into the air in the full nelson, Bright POWERS him
down into a slam!]

GM:  FULL NELSON SLAM!

[With Broussard down, Dufresne swoops in, pulling him off the mat,
dragging him over to the ropes.]

GM:  Dufresne's setting for... a suplex?

BW:  Suplex over the ropes!

[With those two tussling, Jaiden Andrews springs into action, leaping
off the middle rope...

...and landing in rana position on the shoulders of Bright, trying to
pull him over.  But the Gold Bomber holds his ground, shaking his head
at the attempt.]

GM:  Jaiden can't bring him down!  He can't get him over!

[With a smirk, Bright powers Jaiden back up onto his shoulders...

...and charges forward, tossing Andrews over the ropes and down to the
wooden stage below!]

GM:  OHHHH!  JAIDEN ANDREWS IS ELIMINATED!

[The crowd jeers Bright as he stands by the ropes, taunting the downed
Andrews who is lying on the wooden floor.]

GM:  That's gotta be considered a bit of an upset but Jaiden Andrews,
taking advantage of the Open Door policy, comes up short in his attempt
to win it all.  Gary Bright tosses him over the ropes to the floor and
Andrews is eliminated.  We're down to nine men inside the ring!


"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The Arena Theatre crowd rises to their feet, turning to see who the
next man into the Rumble is.]

GM:  Colt Patterson!  Former World Champion is #13!

BW:  Let's see if he can last out here any longer than his old buddy
Scott Pain.  I don't think it's possible to last any shorter amount of
time unless he doesn't get in the ring at all.

[Patterson gets closer to the ring, about to enter...

...when suddenly Mike Anderson sails over the ropes, crashing down on
Patterson!]

GM:  What the-?!

BW:  Hahah!  The Gold Bomber strikes again!

[The crowd jeers Gary Bright as he stares down over the ropes, sneering
at Colt Patterson who just had Mike Anderson thrown over the top rope on
top of him.]

GM:  Mike Anderson is eliminated as well!  Gary Bright just tossed out
two men in no time flat!

BW:  I told you, Gordo!  I told you the Gold Bomber was the favorite
tonight!

GM:  You did not!

[The crowd continues to jeer as Bright strikes a double bicep pose,
showing off his muscles to the Arena Theatre...

...just before Colt Patterson slides under the ropes, throwing fists as
fast as he can!]

GM:  Patterson's all over Gary Bright!  The Gold Bomber may have gone
too far this time!

[The crowd roars as Patterson backs Bright all the way to the buckles,
climbing up on the second rope to throw clenched fists at the Gold
Bomber's skull.  On the other side of the ring, Vladimir Velikov is
choking Broussard against the buckles.  Nearby, Pure X has John Shock on
the mat, sitting against the buckles with a boot on his throat.  Jerry
Titus is also on the mat with Dufresne and Freeman taking turns dropping
elbows on his massive chest.]

GM:  Fans, take a look at this ring.  Nine supremely tough competitors
beating the tar out of each other all for a shot at the National Title. 
That's how important that title belt is.  That's how much people are
willing to go through for a chance to wear that gold.

[Patterson drops down off the ropes, racing to the ropes as Bright
staggers out of the corner...

...and connects with a running clothesline that puts Bright into the
ropes.  Patterson pumps his muscular arm before hitting the far ropes
again, rebounding back...]

GM:  CLOTHESLI- 

[But before the clothesline can connect, Bright steps out of the ropes,
hooking Patterson around the upper body...

...and DRIVING him into the canvas with a thunderous slam!]

GM:  Ohhh my!  Bright drove him to the mat!

BW:  Correction - Bright drove him THROUGH the mat, daddy!

GM:  You may be right on that one.  Patterson is clutching his lower
back.  He's in a lot of pain at this point in the match.

[Bright gets back to his feet...

...and gets DRILLED with a running tackle by Jerry Titus, knocking
Bright off his feet.  Titus moves towards the downed Bright who is
scooting back towards the ropes, leaving Titus' back exposes as Pure X
charges from behind, scoring with a high knee that puts Titus
off-balance...]

GM:  Look out!

[And allows Bright to hook Titus between the legs, standing up...

...and TOSSING Titus over the ropes and down to the wooden stage with a
loud thud!]

BW:  BRIGHT TOSSES ANOTHER ONE!

GM:  Now wait a second... that was Pure X's elimination!

BW:  I don't think so, Gordo.  Gary Bright showed "Pure Power" what pure
power is REALLY all about!  He tossed Titus over the ropes like he was a
sack of groceries, daddy!

GM:  Whoever's elimination it was - Jerry Titus is gone as well!  That
puts us down to eight men left in the ring as we're getting close to the
point where the man who drew #14 will be hitting the ring.

[Inside the ring, Pure X is tearing into Gary Bright with kicks to the
body against the ropes, taking out some frustration for Bright
"stealing" Titus' elimination.  Colt Patterson has crawled to the
corner, pulling himself to a standing position while John Shock is doing
the same in the opposite corner.  In the far corner, Marcus Broussard
has been cornered and is being absolutely brutalized - yet again - by
Adrian Freeman, Calisto Dufresne, and Vladimir Velikov.]

GM:  There's a three-on-one on the San Jose Shark again.  He really
could use some help in there.

BW:  Yeah, he could but who's gonna help Broussard?  Nobody trusts him! 
If the man in the AWA that he's known the longest - his closest friend
in the AWA - doesn't trust him, why should anyone else?

GM:  It's a valid point although I think Marcus Broussard has gone a
long way towards earning EVERYONE'S trust over the past few months,
Bucky.

BW:  Not my trust.  


"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[As the buzzer sounds, the Arena Theatre fans burst into jeers as the
"Catch Thug" Raphael Rhodes, sporting some bandages taped around his
head, wobbles into view.]

GM:  Raphael Rhodes pulls #14 in the order of entry - and he looks a
little worse for wear, Bucky.

BW:  He looks a LOT worse for wear, Gordo.  He's got the bandage from
where Vasquez split him open with the steel chair.  He's staggering a
bit as well.  I'm not sure this is a good idea for him.

GM:  I guess we're about to find out.  I'm kinda surprised he's out
here.

BW:  I'm not.  You think Raphael Rhodes is actually going to give up a
chance to earn a shot at the National Title?  You're dreaming.

GM:  Rhodes is #14 so we're almost halfway through this Rumble and we've
still got a long way to go.  There's still a lot of very good
competitors we have yet to see in here.  Guys like Vasquez, Stevie
Scott, Shane Destiny...

BW:  Tumaffi, Rogers, Slater...

GM:  Don't forget the National Tag Team Champions, Kentucky's Pride, as
well.  They could play a big role in the outcome of this one.  City Jack
seemed like he was daydreaming quite a bit about wearing the big gold on
AWA Access, Bucky.

BW:  Keep dreaming, fat man.  Ain't gonna happen.

[After taking a long time to get down the aisle, Rhodes rolls under the
bottom rope into the ring... 

...and just narrowly avoids an attempt at a Shock Kick that hits Colt
Patterson instead!]

GM:  Ohh!  Shock went for the Shock Kick on Rhodes but it was
sidestepped and Patterson took all of that!

[The veteran crumples to a heap on the canvas as Raphael Rhodes snares a
waistlock on Shock...

...and takes him over with a high impact German Suplex, dumping Shock on
the back of his head and neck!]

GM:  Man oh man... big time suplex by Raphael Rhodes right there!

[Rhodes rolls out of the middle of the ring, clutching his head near the
buckles.]

GM:  Raphael Rhodes looks to be in pretty bad shape, Bucky.  I wonder if
he might have a concussion or something.  He's clinging to the ropes in
the corner, an arm over his head.

[Seizing the moment, Pure X pulls Shock off the mat, runs across the
ring...

...and HURLS him over the ropes and down to the floor!]

GM:  John Shock is eliminated as well!

[Pure X pumps a fist in triumph - perhaps vindication at finally getting
an elimination of his own...

...and then gets thrown over the top as well by Adrian Freeman!]

GM:  OHHHH!  PURE X IS GONE!

[The crowd responds with a mixed reaction for Pure X's elimination as
the technician smacks down on the wooden stage, looking up in surprise
as the Australian leans over the ropes, taunting him.]

GM:  Adrian Freeman eliminates Pure X.  And we're down to seven men
inside that ring now!  

[With Freeman by the ropes, that leaves Velikov and Dufresne to continue
their assault on the San Jose Shark.  On the other side of the ring,
Colt Patterson and Raphael Rhodes are both down on the mat, nursing
injuries.  The Gold Bomber stalks towards Patterson, perhaps looking for
another big elimination.]


"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[All eyes turn once more...

...and the Arena Theatre crowd ERUPTS in cheers!]

GM:  SWEET DADDY WILLIAMS!

BW:  Oh jeez.

[The chunky fan favorite comes charging down the aisle at top speed -
well, as top of speed as he gets - and dives under the ropes, charging
the corner where the San Jose Shark is being abused.]

GM:  HERE WE GO!

[The crowd is electrified as Williams yanks Dufresne away from
Broussard, blasting him with a right hand that knocks him down to the
mat.  With a whoop, he blasts the incoming Adrian Freeman with a
clothesline that knocks "Subzero" off his feet.]

GM:  Sweet Daddy Williams is cleaning house in there!

[Vladimir Velikov stalks towards the exposed back of Williams as he jigs
a little bit over the downed Freeman...

...and then the fan favorite spins around, tackling Velikov down to the
mat!]

GM:  OH YEAH!  GET HIM, SWEET DADDY!

[The cheers of the crowd are absolutely deafening as Sweet Daddy
Williams throws fist after fist after fist after fist after fist after
fist... get the idea?]

GM:  HE'S TEARING VELIKOV APART!

BW:  I don't understand!  Somebody stop this fat goof!  He can't do
this!

GM:  He's doin' it, Bucky!  The Russians took out his friend, his
brother Stevie Scott... they robbed him of his chance to become a
National Tag Team Champion... and now Sweet Daddy Williams is making
Velikov pay the price for it!

BW:  Get Kolya out here!  We need some help for Vlad!

GM:  Keep Sudakov in the locker room although you know Sweet Daddy
Williams wants a piece of him too!

BW:  Oh, now THAT I'd love to see.

GM:  Me too!  How 'bout that?

[Williams drags Velikov off the mat, throwing him into the corner and
charging in, drilling him with a clothesline that knocks Velikov down
into a seated position.

With a pump of his fist, Williams runs across the ring...

...and happens to floor Dufrense with a right hand again!]

GM:  Haha!  These fans are lovin' this, Bucky!

BW:  Who cares what they love?  This is terrible!

[Backing into the corner, the Sweet Daddy does a little dance...

...and sprints across the ring, slamming his mammoth rear right into the
face of the downed Velikov!]

GM:  OH YEAH!

BW:  I can't watch any more of this.  I just can't.

[And with Velikov reeling, it's the Sweet Daddy's turn to have some fun,
shaking his rear back and forth to the roar of the crowd.]

GM:  Sweet Daddy Williams has got this crowd rockin' and rollin' here
tonight in Houston, Texas, fans!  They are on their feet for- ohh!  Come
on!

[The crowd jeers as Gary Bright hits Williams with a massive double axe
handle from behind, knocking him down to the mat.  The Gold Bomber
follows up with a series of stomps to the downed fan favorite, quickly
being joined by Freeman and Dufresne...

...who suddenly find themselves under attack by Marcus Broussard who
comes charging out of the corner, fists a-flyin'!]

GM:  The San Jose Shark is saving Sweet Daddy Williams!

BW:  And I never thought I'd hear anyone say that.  It makes me sick.

GM:  Right hand on Dufresne!  Right hand on Bright!

[Freeman spins Broussard around for a right hand...

...that the former National Champion blocks, hooking Freeman around the
waist in a bearhug before snapping him down to the mat with a
belly-to-belly suplex!]

GM:  BELLY TO BELLY!  BROUSSARD TAKES HIM DOWN!


"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The crowd turns to spot the man who drew #16...

...and finds Shane Destiny walking the aisle towards the ring, sneering
at the reaction of the crowd.]

GM:  Shane Destiny is #16 and I've got to think that's not a bad spot
for him, Bucky.

BW:  Destiny has wrestled long matches before but you've got to remember
that he's coming off a very long period of inactivity.  He's only had
one match since that extended break so this could be a potential problem
for him.  Does he have enough in the tank to last a half hour in a
Rumble at this point?

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

[Destiny rolls under the ropes into the ring, climbing to his feet...

...and promptly connects with a mammoth chop to the chest of Raphael
Rhodes!]

GM:  Ohh!

BW:  Why did he go after the Catch Thug?!

GM:  He was the closest next to him?

[Destiny proves that to be the case as he blasts Colt Patterson with a
chop... then Gary Bright... then back to Rhodes... and in a circle over
and over he goes, lighting up the chests of the three men with chops.]

GM:  Well, it is every man for himself so I guess...

[The crowd actually cheers a little bit when Gary Bright responds with a
forearm smash that sends Destiny stumbling backwards into a forearm from
Colt Patterson...

...and a headbutt from Rhodes knocks Destiny down to the mat.  Rhodes
falls back to the corner from the impact, clutching his skull as Bright
and Patterson make an odd pairing, stomping Destiny into the mat.]

GM:  We've got Bright and Patterson on Destiny.  Velikov is working over
Broussard in the corner.

[Sweet Daddy Williams has Dufresne against the buckles, his hands
wrapped around his throat.]

GM:  Look at the Sweet Daddy's intensity!  Have you ever seen him like
this?

BW:  I don't think so.  The Russians' attack seem to have... changed
him.

[Bright pulls Destiny up, applying a full nelson as Patterson fires away
with kicks to the midsection.]

GM:  You said it earlier that we'd see some odd folks working together. 
How about that pairing?  Patterson and Bright working side by side on
Shane Destiny.  

BW:  Not what you'd see most weeks on AWA Saturday Night Wrestling,
Gordo.  That's for sure.

[Bright releases the full nelson, spinning Destiny around into a bearhug
as Patterson steps up on the middle rope...

...and leaps off the midbuckle, cracking Destiny with a flying forearm
off the second rope!]

GM:  OHHHH!  What a shot on Destiny!

[Patterson gets back to his feet, pumping a fist to the cheers of the
crowd...

...and then EATING a clothesline from Gary Bright!]

GM:  Ohhh!  Gary Bright... what a piece of work this guy is, Bucky.

BW:  Gary Bright's been inside this ring for north of 15 minutes now. 
So, for a powerhouse like that, it'll be interesting to see how much
he's got in the gas tank, Gordo.

GM:  I was referring more to his attitude problem but that's a good
point.

[Bright delivers a few hard stomps to Patterson as Destiny crawls to the
ropes, trying to catch a breather.  On the other side of the ring,
Freeman and Dufresne double whip Broussard into the ropes, taking him
down with a double backdrop.]

GM:  The San Jose Shark is just being overwhelmed in this match.  He's
had spurts where he looked like he was going to get back in this but so
far, he's just not been able to get on track with two - sometimes three
- men constantly assaulting him.

[In one corner, our cameraman catches Vladimir Velikov's boot pushed
down on the throat of Sweet Daddy Williams, Williams struggling against
his rival.  Nearby, Gary Bright is trying to push Patterson over the
ropes with his massive arms.]

GM:  Colt Patterson's in trouble!  He needs some help in the worst way!


"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The young man who drew #17 comes jogging into view to the cheers of the
capacity crowd.]

GM:  "Thunderbolt" Jackson Ross!  He drew #17 and becomes the tenth man
in the ring at this point of the match.  And we said Colt Patterson
needed some help and this young man will happily oblige!

[Ross deadleaps up on the apron next to Bright and Patterson...

...and leaps right up in the air again, lashing out with a single boot
squarely in the face of Bright, causing him to release his grip on Colt
Patterson, staggering away.]

GM:  Oh yeah!  Jackson Ross clears out Gary Bright...

[Ross grabs the top rope, leaping to the top rope, springing off...]

GM:  OHHHHHHHHHH!

[The crowd erupts as Jackson Ross connects with a breathtaking dive off
the ropes, wiping out Gary Bright with a high cross body!]

GM:  WHAT A MOVE BY ROSS!

BW:  Pretty dangerous in a battle royal.

GM:  This young man has quickly become one of the most popular, most
athletic men in the entire AWA and these fans love him!  Listen to them
go crazy for Jackson Ross, Bucky!

[Ross pulls Bright off the mat, throwing him into the closest set of
turnbuckles.  He charges across to the opposite corner, then sprints to
the other side of the ring...

...and HURLS himself into the air!]

GM:  CORNER SPLASH ON BRIGHT!!

[Ross bounces away, pumping both fists in excitement as the crowd
continues to roar for him.  Bright staggers out of the buckles, barely
able to stand.]

GM:  Ross and Colt Patterson working together...

[Grabbing Bright by the arm, Ross whips him towards Patterson...

...who ducks his head, backdropping Bright over the ropes to the floor!]

GM:  BRIGHT'S GONE!

BW:  Wow!  That's huge, Gordo!

GM:  Gary Bright's been eliminated by Colt Patterson and Jackson Ross!

[Patterson leans over the ropes, shouting in Bright's direction.]

GM:  Colt Patterson just told Gary Bright that that was for Scott...
Scott Pain, I'd assume.  There's obviously still some bad blood there
from Pain's loss to Bright back on The Main Event.

BW:  You're a genius.

[An excited Ross grabs Colt Patterson, exchanging a high five with the
veteran before turning back towards the fray...

...and catching a running forearm in the back of the head by Patterson
to a mixed reaction from the crowd!]

GM:  Ohhh!  What in the world?!

BW:  It's every man for himself, Gordo!

GM:  It is, of course... but Jackson Ross just helped Colt Patterson
eliminate Gary Bright and now...

[The crowd jeers again as Patterson hurls Ross over the ropes to the
floor.]

GM:  And now Colt Patterson has eliminated Jackson Ross!  Unbelievable.

[There's quite a few jeers for the veteran as he stands by the ropes,
looking down at the eliminated Jackson Ross out on the floor.  Patterson
shrugs his shoulders at the reaction - then repeats the gesture to Ross
as the youngster looks up from his seat on the floor at his childhood
hero...

...who just as quickly gets up-ended from behind by Raphael Rhodes who
throws Patterson to the floor and then retreats back to the corner,
clutching his head.]

GM:  OHHH!  PATTERSON'S GONE TOO!

BW:  Well, Jackson Ross won't feel so bad now, I guess.

GM:  Colt Patterson is irate!  He can't believe he was just eliminated!

BW:  And we're back down to seven men inside the ring.  Freeman,
Dufresne, Velikov, Broussard, Williams, Rhodes, and Destiny!

GM:  Not for long.  The countdown is about to start...

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[Everyone's attention turns towards the entryway and a decent shower of
boos starts up for Johnny Detson as he jogs down the aisle towards the
ring.]

GM:  Johnny Detson, taking advantage of the AWA's Open Door policy is on
his way to the ring.  

[Detson rolls under the ropes into the ring, immediately pulling Shane
Destiny up off the mat, and drilling him with a right hand that knocks
Destiny back into the corner.]

GM:  Detson going straight for Shane Destiny, got him cornered now...

[But Destiny pulls off a switch, turning Detson back into the buckles...

...and absolutely OBLITERATING him with a knife-edge chop in the
corner!]

GM:  Good grief!  You could hear that all the way in the Astrodome!

BW:  Is that building even still there?  Stop living in 1986, Gordo.

[Destiny continues to pummel Detson in the corner - chop, forearm, chop
forearm, chop, forearm - then a series of headbutts that knock Detson
down to a knee in the corner...

...where a BRUTAL knee by Destiny to the jaw lays him flat!]

GM:  Destiny is all over Johnny Detson and you have to imagine he just
let out a huge sigh of relief that Tumaffi wasn't the next one in the
ring.

BW:  You think Destiny's afraid of Tumaffi?

GM:  I KNOW Destiny's afraid of Tumaffi and if by some miracle he isn't?
 Then he's crazy because he definitely should be, Bucky.

[A series of stomps in the corner leave Detson lying as Destiny turns
around, looking over the other five men in the ring...

...and promptly LEVELS Sweet Daddy Williams from behind with a running
clothesline.  Adrian Freeman eyes Destiny warily before stomping the
downed Williams.]

GM:  And we continue to see this grouping of Freeman, Dufresne, and
Velikov dominating this Rumble, Bucky.  They've worked over Broussard
for the majority of the match - not really making much of an effort to
eliminate him though.  And they've also worked over Sweet Daddy
Williams.  Along the way, they've gotten assists from a few others, now
including Shane Destiny!

BW:  Can you imagine if Destiny helped them on a full-time basis in this
match?  One of those four would DEFINITELY win the Rumble then!  There'd
be no stopping them.

GM:  Fans, we've got to take another commercial break.  Don't you dare
go away!

[We fade away from Memorial Day Mayhem to black...

...and then back up.  It's a shot of a few kids standing outside of a
classroom.  A fourth kid walks up to them, carrying his backpack over
his shoulder.]

4th Kid:  Hey guys... wait til you see what I got from AWAShop.com!

[He whips open the backpack and produces...

...a JUAN VASQUEZ BOBBLEHEAD!]

"Whoa!"

"Wow!"

"That rocks!"

"I want one... now!"

[The 4th kid looks pleased with himself...

...until a fifth kid walks up.]

5th Kid:  Juan Vasquez, huh?  That's not bad... but check this out!

[The 5th kid opens his backpack and reveals...

...a CITY JACK BOBBLEHEAD!]

"WHOA!"

"WOWER!"

"THAT ROCKS MORE!"

"I WANT ONE... NOW!"

[The fifth kid looks proud as the fourth kid looks sad at his Vasquez
bobblehead and we fade to black.

And then back up on live action where Tin Can Rust is walking down the
aisle very slowly.]

GM:  Welcome back, fans!  One-half of the National Tag Team Champions,
Tin Can Rust, is the man who drew #19 and he's taking an incredibly long
time getting down the aisle to the ring, Bucky.

BW:  Well, Gordo, honestly, on AWA Access he didn't seem that interested
in even BEING in this match.  He was more concerned about who was going
to win the tag match and be Kentucky's Pride's next challengers.  I
don't get it either.  Why would you be more interested in being that fat
goof City Jack's partner than wearing your own gold?

GM:  Rust has been very focused on the National Tag Team Titles for a
long time and I almost think he's looking at participating in this
Rumble as a distraction of sorts for him.

[Rust finally rolls under the ropes into the ring, looking around...

...and making a beeline for Calisto Dufresne, rocking the Ladykiller
with a right hand!]

GM:  Ohh!  What a shot on Dufresne!  Rust may be looking for a little
bit of payback for City Jack.  

BW:  You may be right.  CJ's been at war with Dufresne for years so Rust
would probably like to take that thorn out of Jack's side permanently.

[Rust shoves Dufresne back into a corner, stepping up on the second rope
and raising his heavy right hand.]

"ONE!"
"TWO!"
"THREE"!
"FOUR!"
"FIVE!"
"SIX!"
"SEVEN!"
"EIGHT!"
"NINE!"
"TEN!"

[TCR drops down off the buckles, spinning around just as Vladimir
Velikov charges his exposed back...

...and sidestepping, throwing Velikov's ample frame into a stunned
Dufresne!]

GM:  OHHHH!  Dufresne gets squashed in the corner!

BW:  There's some old bad blood in the ring right now.  We talked about
WarGames earlier in the night and that is spilling over yet again as the
Russian assaults Tin Can Rust from behind!

GM:  Nine guys inside the ring.  The next man in will be the man who
drew #20 and we'll be getting close to the home stretch of this one.

BW:  And there's STILL a lot of big names to come.  I can't believe the
late draws some of these guys have gotten.  They're going to be
incredibly fresh in there against guys who've been inside the ring for
ten, twenty, even thirty minutes or more!  Adrian Freeman checked in at
#3 and he's STILL in there.

GM:  That's impressive whether you like Freeman or not.

[Grabbing Velikov's head with one hand and Dufresne's with the other,
Tin Can Rust SLAMS their skulls together to a thunderous cheer from the
crowd!]

GM:  Double noggin knocker by Tin Can Rust has Dufresne and Velikov
reeling, Bucky!

BW:  When fresh blood comes into this Rumble every two minutes, it
really changes everything, Gordo.  Just when people get into a rhythm,
know their surroundings, get a gameplan - BOOM!  Every two minutes,
someone new arrives with a full tank of gas and screws everything up for
everyone.

GM:  Speaking of which...

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[All eyes turn towards the entrance...

...and the roof is nearly blown clear off the Arena Theatre!]

GM:  STEVIE!  STEVIE SCOTT IS #20!

[The Hotshot SPRINTS the distance of the aisle, diving headfirst under
the ring...

...and keeps on running, tackling Vladimir Velikov right off his feet!]

GM:  HE'S GOT VLAD!  HE'S GOT VLAD!

[The roar of the crowd is absolutely deafening as the Hotshot drills the
big Russian over and over with both fists, throwing them as fast as
they'll fly!]

GM:  Stevie Scott has got his hands on Vladimir Velikov and he's making
the big Russian pay for everything he did to him about a month ago!  The
Hotshot is-

BW:  Look at Rust!

[Tin Can Rust shoves Dufresne aside, stalking towards the exposed back
of Stevie Scott.  The crowd begins to buzz with concern as TCR measures
Scott, raising both arms over his head...

...and is grabbed from behind by Johnny Detson who swings Rust around,
peppering him with jabs to the jaw!]

GM:  Ohh!  Detson prevented Rust from attacking Stevie Scott from
behind, I think, Bucky.

BW:  He did but I don't think he knew he was.  He just saw someone with
their back turned and tried to take advantage of it.  He's an
opportunistic guy... just my style.

GM:  Detson is rocking Rust with those sharp jab punches...

[But a huge haymaker from TCR knocks Detson back down to the mat - a
glare from the veteran causing Detson to slink away and look for someone
else to trade shots with.  Rust turns his attention back towards Stevie
Scott who is still tearing into the Russian, switching to a two-handed
choke now.]

GM:  Watch out, Stevie!

BW:  With Rust in there, Stevie's going to need eyes in the back of his
head, Gordo.

GM:  You may be right!

[Rust stalks towards Stevie again...

...but is intercepted by Raphael Rhodes who looks ready for a brawl with
one of his favorite fights.]

GM:  Rhodes with a hooking shot to the ribs from behind...

[The "Catch Thug" spins Rust around, drilling him with an uppercut that
sends Rust falling back into the ropes.]

BW:  Rhodes is a little bit nuts, Gordo.  He may very well have a
concussion in there but when the opportunity came up for him to throw
down with Rust - one of the toughest fights he's ever had he told me -
he jumped right in there!  He's nuts!

[Holding TCR by the hair, Rhodes leaps up with a knee strike to the
forehead that knocks Rust back against the ropes again.  Straightening
up, Rhodes pops him across the chest with a chop...

...and eats a headbutt to the forehead for his efforts, immediately
knocking Rhodes down to a knee.]

GM:  Ohh!  Headbutt on target!

BW:  And if Rhodes does have a concussion, that'll put him in a bad, bad
way.

GM:  It certainly will.  

[With Tin Can Rust tied up with Raphael Rhodes, Stevie Scott and Sweet
Daddy Williams team up to whip Vladimir Velikov into the ropes, flooring
him on the rebound with a double clothesline to the cheers of the
crowd.]

GM:  Sweet Heat is takin' it to the Russian!

BW:  That's not fair!  Velikov should be allowed to have Kolya in there
to help!

GM:  That's completely ridiculous!

[On the other side of the ring, we can see Freeman and Dufresne working
over Broussard again.  The Australian peels off to drill an incoming
Johnny Detson with a right hand as Dufresne pulls Broussard into a front
facelock...

...when suddenly Broussard straightens up, backdropping Dufresne down to
the canvas!  The San Jose Shark sees a bit of daylight, hearing the roar
of the crowd as he surges forward to assault Adrian Freeman from behind,
knocking him down to the mat.]

GM:  And the San Jose Shark is showing signs of life!

[Broussard stomps Freeman into the mat as the fans start counting down.]

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The crowd responds with jeers for the man trotting out from behind the
curtain.]

GM:  Pablo O'Connor is #21!

BW:  The man who won the legendary 200 Man Battle Royal!

GM:  Legendary?  Had you even heard of it before he talked about it?

BW:  Well, no, but... I trust Pablo O'Connor!

[O'Connor stops when he gets to the ringside, looking a little nervous
at the battle going on inside the ring.  The shot switches to a split
screen for a moment as Shane Destiny hooks his arms between the legs of
Johnny Detson, hoisting him up and dumping him on the back of his head
with a Teardrop Suplex.  O'Connor visibly cringes at the sight of the
painful suplex...

...and turns around, starting to walk away to the jeers of the crowd.]

GM:  Wait a second!  Is he leaving?!

BW:  Well, uh... it's an Open Door policy, right?  I guess that means he
can walk out the door too!

GM:  It does not!  He committed to compete in this Rumble tonight!

[The camera cuts inside the ring where Adrian Freeman is holding Tin Can
Rust's arms behind him while Dufresne tees off on the midsection,
throwing blow after blow to the body.]

GM:  Freeman and Dufresne looking to send a little message to Tin Can
Rust.  You know how bad those two are looking for a shot at the titles.

BW:  They've only got one point though and haven't teamed on AWA
television in weeks.

[The camera cuts back to the aisle where a nervous-looking Pablo
O'Connor is backpedaling, shaking his head in disbelief at the action
inside the squared circle.]

GM:  I can't believe this turkey is leaving, Bucky.  What a waste of an
opportunity for someone.

[But before O'Connor can reach the entryway, his manager, Stephanie
Delacroix walks out to join him in the aisle.  She gives him some
unheard words, looking quite stern as she repeatedly points to the
ring.]

GM:  Well, this is interesting.

BW:  It's too bad she can't stay out here with him.  She might actually
get him in the ring.

GM:  She seems to be trying to convince him.

[O'Connor shakes his head as she points to the ring... then nods... then
shakes his head... then nods...]

GM:  What in the world is he doing?

[O'Connor takes a few steps towards the ring, pumping his fists, looking
confident...

...and then freezes at the sight of Raphael Rhodes driving an uppercut
into the jaw of Tin Can Rust.]

GM:  Uh oh.

[Shaking his head, he starts backpedaling back up the aisle.]

BW:  Close.  We almost got him in there.

GM:  I guess.

[Delacroix blocks his path again, this time pointing with a little more
fire as she talks to her charge.  He shakes his head... and seems to be
pouting a little bit... okay, maybe a lot.]

GM:  I have no idea what kind of relationship these two have but...

BW:  Wait, wait... she convinced him, I think.

[It certainly looks that way as a fired-up O'Connor slaps himself across
the face, lets loose a yell, and marches towards the ring...

...and almost gets to the wooden stage where Vladimir Velikov drops a
crushing legdrop across the throat of Marcus Broussard.]

GM:  Missed it by that much.

[O'Connor's eyes go wide... and he starts backing away again, shaking
his head like a maniac as he tries to back down the aisle...]


"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[O'Connor is still backpedaling when he bumps into the man who drew
#22...]

GM:  UH OH!

BW:  I'd get in the ring now if I was Mr. O'Connor!

[The crowd ERUPTS as O'Connor reaches behind him, trying to figure out
who it is...

...and then his eyes go wide as he realizes there's only one man it
could be.]

GM:  TUMAFFI IS #23!

[O'Connor spins around, staring wide-eyed at Tumaffi as he rapidly backs
the OTHER way down the aisle, heading towards the ring while Tumaffi
marches towards the ring as well.  About halfway down the aisle,
O'Connor turns and sprints to the ring, diving headfirst under the
bottom rope...

...and runs right into a right hand from Sweet Daddy Williams!]

GM:  Ohh!  Down goes O'Connor!

[Tumaffi is to the ring a few moments later, scaling the ringsteps and
climbing through the ropes...

...where all action stops, staring at the four hundred and five pound
monster who is in the ring.]

GM:  And all eyes are on Tumaffi!  Twelve men inside the ring now...

BW:  Fourteen if you count Tumaffi.

GM:  Who's gonna act first?  Who is going to-

[Shane Destiny seems to be almost hiding, ducking behind Sweet Daddy
Williams and Pablo O'Connor, trying to put as many bodies as possible
between he and Tumaffi...]

GM:  Tumaffi's looking over the ring and...

[With his mighty hand, he points in the direction of Shane Destiny with
a "YOU!"...

...and the seas part, the mass of humanity inside the ring getting out
of the way to give Tumaffi a straight shot at Destiny who has a glint of
panic in his eyes as the four hundred pounder starts moving in his
direction.]

GM:  You still think Destiny's not afraid of Tumaffi?!

BW:  I don't... I don't know, Gordo.

GM:  Tumaffi is on the move!  Tumaffi is-

[Destiny suddenly grabs Pablo O'Connor, throwing him in the path of the
oncoming Tumaffi who hoists O'Connor up over his shoulders, falling back
with a Samoan Drop that CRUSHES O'Connor on the canvas!]

GM:  OHHHHH!

[Tumaffi regains his feet...

...and suddenly, everyone rushes him, realizing they stand a better
chance in unity.]

GM:  A group assault on Tumaffi!  Moments ago, all of these men were
fighting with each other and now they're all fighting Tumaffi!

BW:  Live together, die alone!

GM:  What?

BW:  Don't you watch Lost?!

[Tumaffi is swallowed in a mass of bodies as every man inside the ring
starts throwing blows in the direction of the massive Samoan.  Punches,
forearms, kicks, elbows - all flying in the direction of Tumaffi who
absorbs them all, getting knocked backwards towards the ropes...

...when suddenly, Tumaffi strikes back!]

GM:  Look out!

[Reaching into the pile, Tumaffi grabs Sweet Daddy Williams by the head,
connecting with a crushing headbutt that sends the fan favorite sailing
away.  A horrific knife-edge chop connects with the throat of Vladimir
Velikov, putting the three hundred pounder down to a knee.  Johnny
Detson takes a chance, leaping on the wide back of Tumaffi, trying to
hook in a sleeperhold...

...and Tumaffi falls backwards, crushing Detson against the buckles!]

GM:  OHHHH!

BW:  Somebody get a sponge to get Detson out of the ring!

[Raphael Rhodes shoves past a few others, throwing punches to the ample
midsection of Tumaffi...

...who responds with a Mongolian chop that knocks Rhodes flat!]


"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The crowd cheers again - this time for Juan Vasquez as he trots out
from behind the entrance curtain, his entire skull wrapped in white tape
that is already showing crimson underneath.  Vasquez slaps a few hands
as he makes his way slowly down the aisle, heading towards the fray
where Tumaffi has just leveled Adrian Freeman with a clubbing forearm to
the back of the neck.]

GM:  Vasquez is #23... heading into the home stretch.  And if it wasn't
for the injuries suffered earlier tonight by Juan Vasquez, I'd say that
makes him one of the favorites.

BW:  So would I.  But with all the blood he lost earlier, I'm surprised
they even let him into the ring tonight again.

GM:  And can you believe it?  We still have two mystery entrants to go!

[Climbing up on the ring apron, Vasquez runs up behind Tumaffi, stepping
up on the middle rope...

...and snaps off a kick to the back of Tumaffi's massive cranium,
causing him to stumble forward from the impact!]

GM:  Ohh!  Vasquez with a kick to the head!

[Seeing Tumaffi dazed gives Shane Destiny a burst of courage to charge
forward, hooking a front facelock...

...but with a mighty bellow, Tumaffi straightens up, hoisting Destiny
into the air, and tossing him over the ropes to the wooden floor below!]

GM:  OHHHH!  DESTINY'S GONE!

[An agitated Shane Destiny slaps the wood in frustration as he looks up
inside the ring where Tumaffi is still fighting off the assault of the
other eleven guys inside the ring...

...when suddenly Raphael Rhodes lunges forward, knocking Juan Vasquez
off the apron to the floor!]

GM:  Oh!  Come on!  He wasn't even in the ring yet!

[Rhodes drops down to the mat, rolling under the ropes to the floor.]

GM:  Raphael Rhodes is eliminated!

BW:  He is not!  He went under the ropes!

GM:  I suppose that's true but why?  He went under the ropes to the
floor but for what reason?

[To answer Gordon's question, Rhodes pulls Vasquez up on the floor...

...and rips the bandaging off the skull of Vasquez, exposing the wound
opened up earlier in the night.]

GM:  Oh no.  We need to stop this right now.

[Rhodes hooks a side headlock on Vasquez, driving short right hands into
the cut on the face, opening up the wound once again as a stream of
blood starts to come down the face of Vasquez.]

GM:  He's got that cut opened up again and...

[Grabbing Vasquez by the hair, Rhodes hurls him in under the bottom rope
where Johnny Detson is waiting, stomping his foot, jumping up and down
as Vasquez starts to pull himself up using the ropes...]

GM:  Detson's setting up for the JohnnyKick!

BW:  He looks so happy.  This is the best day of his life, I think.

GM:  Vasquez is to a knee... now up to his feet...

[Detson lets loose a whoop of triumph...

...and then gets grabbed by the head, HURLED over the ropes and down to
the floor by Tumaffi!]

GM:  OHHHH!  DETSON'S GONE!

[Cue a temper tantrum out on the floor from Johnny Detson as he flails
about on the wooden stage yelling, "I HAD HIM!  I HAAAAAAAD HIM!"]

GM:  What in the world is that all about?

BW:  No clue.

GM:  Johnny Detson is eliminated - we're down to eleven men inside the
ring with another seven still to come in this match, Bucky.

[Tumaffi grabs Calisto Dufresne by the hair, pulling him into a
clothesline that knocks the Ladykiller flat.  The big Samoan marches
across the ring, hitting anyone that moves as the wrestlers flee like
the Japanese citizens from Godzilla.

A thrust kick levels Freeman.

A chop takes Broussard down.

A headbutt floors Tin Can Rust.

A throat thrust nearly takes O'Connor over the ropes.

The massive Samoan reaches the dazed Vasquez, grabbing him with both
hands...

...and hoisting him high in a double choke!]

GM:  He's got Vasquez up!  This might be a short night in the Rumble for
Vasq-

[But a crazed Raphael Rhodes starts throwing blows at the wide back of
Tumaffi, screaming "He's mine!  He's mine!"

Tumaffi throws Vasquez down to the mat in a dismissive gesture...

...then slowly turns to face his attacker.]

GM:  Uh oh.

BW:  That might have been the worst decision of Raphael Rhodes' life,
Gordo.

GM:  OHHHH!

[A huge thrust kick by Tumaffi knocks Rhodes right off his feet, sending
him falling back into the corner.  Tumaffi moves to the middle of the
ring, throwing Stevie Scott out of the way as he gets there...

...and charges the few steps towards the buckles, SMASHING Rhodes into
the corner!]

GM:  OHHHHHHHHH!

BW:  Would you stop that?!

GM:  He absolutely CRUSHED Rhodes in the buckles!

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The crowd reacts with a slightly negative response as a new AWA
competitor walks down the aisle.  The Billionaire Extraordinaire, Lucius
Sole, slowly makes his way towards the ring, sneering at the ringside
fans.]

GM:  Lucius Sole draws the number 24... and with the way he was talking
on Access, you have to wonder if he might have... arranged... to get
that number.

BW:  What are you implying?

GM:  A nice high draw for a man who claims that he can buy anything or
anyone?  It just seems... convenient.

[Sole climbs the ringsteps, smirking at the fans before stepping into
the ring...

...where he eats a hard right hand from Stevie Scott that knocks him
flat.]

BW:  Oh yeah... real convenient.

[Sole looks stunned as Stevie Scott pulls him up off the mat, throwing
him back into the closest corner.  The Hotshot climbs up on the
midbuckle, throwing fists.]

GM:  One!  Two!  Three!  Four!  OHHHHH!

[Velikov breaks up the assault with a big forearm smash to the back of
the Hotshot, hooking the trunks and YANKING Scott down to the mat, the
back of his head hitting the mat hard...

...and immediately getting bowled over by Sweet Daddy Williams who is
throwing fists like crazy, knocking Velikov back against the ropes.]

GM:  The Sweet Daddy and the Russian are trading blows again!

[Sensing a chance, Williams hits a big uppercut, causing Velikov to
topple backwards, hanging onto the ropes to try and stay in the match. 
The chubby fan favorite leans forward, pushing on Velikov's upper body
to try and topple him...

...but a low blow from a nearby Lucius Sole changes all that!]

GM:  OHHHHH!  Cheap shot!  Sole caught him low!

[Sole pulls Williams away from Velikov and together the two men toss the
fan favorite over the ropes and down to the floor below!]

GM:  Sweet Daddy Williams is gone!  He's out!

BW:  Thank the stars for that one.

GM:  Stevie Scott was hurting thanks to Velikov and he couldn't do
anything about it but his friend and tag team partner was just
eliminated from the Rumble.

[Velikov shakes the hand of the Billionaire Extraordinaire and then
points at the downed Hotshot, miming throwing him over the ropes as
well.  Sole nods, helping Velikov drag Scott back to his feet.  With a
smirk, Sole hooks a front facelock on Scott, slowly turning him over
into neckbreaker position with Stevie facing a taunting Russian.]

GM:  He's going for the neckbreaker!

[Sole lifts his free hand to rub his fingers together in that
international signal for money...

...which gives Stevie Scott the much needed moment to break free of
Sole's grip, lashing out with a superkick aimed right at the jaw of
Vladimir Velikov, a blow that sends Velikov over the ropes and down to
the floor!]

GM:  HEATSEEKER!  VELIKOV'S GONE!!

[The elder Russian lies on the floor, staring up at the ring where
Stevie Scott is screaming at him, shouting "Sudakov's next!" and making
the "belt gesture."]

GM:  The Russian is gone!  Stevie Scott eliminated the Russian and now
he's out for more!  

BW:  He's got bigger problems right now than Velikov.

GM:  Stevie turns and-

[The crowd bursts into a mixed reaction as Tumaffi scores with a big
chop that knocks Stevie down to the mat.  With the Hotshot down, Tumaffi
hits the nearest set of ropes...]

GM:  NO!

[And attempts the big splash...

...but Stevie rolls out of the way just before impact, causing Tumaffi
to slam chestfirst down on the canvas!]

GM:  HE MISSED THE SPLASH!  STEVIE MOVED IN TIME!

[The Hotshot regains his feet.  He stares at Tumaffi, almost pondering
if he can get him over the ropes but thinks better of it, pursuing a
backpedaling Lucius Sole instead.]

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[All eyes turn to the entryway to see the next entry into the match...

...and then collectively EXPLODE in a shocked reaction!]

GM:  WHAT THE-?!

BW:  HIM?!?  WHY HIM?!?

[The cheers intensify as the man steps through the curtain.

The man grins at the cheering crowd and at the stunned reaction of
the men inside the ring who've all stopped to watch his entrance.

The man whips off his leather trenchcoat, throwing it down to the
floor.

The man who is a former National Champion who hasn't been seen in
months.

The man who won this very match one year ago.]

GM:  RON HOUSTON IS BACK!

[And with that, the East Coast Terror CHARGES down the aisle, diving
headfirst under the bottom rope where Pablo O'Connor charges at him,
getting scooped right up in a fireman's carry!]

GM:  Are you kidding me?!

BW:  Already?!

[Houston pauses, the crowd going nuts...

...and then swings O'Connor out to the side, sending him sailing over
the ropes and crashing down on the wooden stage!]

GM:  FADE TO BLACK!  O'CONNOR IS GONE!

[Houston lets loose a whoop of triumph before charging across the ring,
scoring with a big boot that hits Adrian Freeman right under the jaw,
knocking him flat.  A big haymaker does the same to Calisto Dufresne,
knocking him to the canvas well...

...and then the Arena Theatre loses their collective minds!]

GM:  HOUSTON AND BROUSSARD!  HOUSTON AND BROUSSARD ARE EYE TO EYE!

[The members of one of the AWA's most memorable feuds stand in the
center of the Rumble, staring one another down...

...and then peel off to do battle with others as Raphael Rhodes attacks
Houston while Tin Can Rust goes after Broussard.  A trio of right hands
by both men put Rhodes and TCR on the mat.

And the two men are right back in the middle, staring at one another
once more.]

GM:  AND RIGHT BACK THEY GO!

[With a buzz in the air, Houston and Broussard eye one another, a near
smirk on the faces of both men as they look at the man they spent most
of 2008 trying to physically destroy...

...and then the mountain of a man known as Tumaffi plants himself right
between them.  He slaps his chest and then with a mighty bellow, he
lashes out with a headbutt that knocks Broussard down to the mat before
connecting with a back hand chop that has Houston falling back towards
the ropes.]

GM:  Tumaffi's got Houston staggered... what a surprising return, Bucky!
 Ron Houston has not been heard from in months.  We know he suffered
that major injury at the hands of Kolya Sudakov when he lost the
National Title.

BW:  And you want to talk about motivation for the men in this match. 
What about Ron Houston?  A chance to come back and win a shot at both
the title you feel you should never have lost AND the man who took it
from you?  This is like a fairy tale for Ron Houston!

GM:  Tumaffi's looking to make it a horror story- oof!  Another big chop
by Tumaffi on Houston against the ropes!

[The big Samoan repeats the chop, this one knocking Houston down to a
knee.  Tumaffi grabs him by the head, placing the head against Tumaffi's
knee...

...and SLAMS his foot down, smashing Houston's head into his knee.]

GM:  Good grief!

[On the other side of the ring, the cameraman catches a blood covered
Juan Vasquez being pummeled by Raphael Rhodes who is trying to deepen
the cut.  A hard slap across Vasquez' face draws some boos towards
Rhodes who bends over, hoisting Vasquez up and dragging him out to the
ropes in the middle of the ring.]

GM:  We've got ten men in the ring about to be joined by the man who
drew #26 in this Rumble!

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The crowd roars again, this time for the other half of the National Tag
Team Champions, City Jack, as he comes jogging down the aisle with a big
grin on his face.]

GM:  City Jack draws #26 and that's a great position for him to be in. 
He could really make a big impact on this match as he's fresh coming in
with a chance to win it all.

[Jack rolls under the ropes, immediately moving to his partner's side in
battering Lucius Sole in the corner.  A double whip sends Sole across
the ring where he staggers back...

...into a Metropill that brings the crowd to their feet again!]

GM:  Oh yeah!  City Jack's throwing that big forearm smash and doing
some damage with it!

[Jack spins around and drills a nearby Adrian Freeman with the same
forearm smash, nearly knocking him over the ropes before Freeman hangs
on, falling down to the mat.  Jack signals TCR and the duo grabs Freeman
up off the mat.]

GM:  Kentucky's Pride, the National Tag Team Champions, working together
late in this 2009 edition of the Rumble.  A double whip...

[And as Freeman rebounds, they each hoist him up by a leg...

...and then violently swing him back down into a spinebuster slam!]

GM:  Oh my!  

[Tin Can Rust spots Stevie Scott with his back exposed, helping Juan
Vasquez with Raphael Rhodes... and gestures to City Jack.  But Jack
refuses, shaking his head and pointing at Calisto Dufresne...

...who wisely dives through the ropes to the floor, shaking his head at
City Jack who was stalking towards him.]

GM:  That coward Dufresne went out to the floor!  I can't believe it!

BW:  That nutcase City Jack was coming after him again!  Can't he get
over it?  Whatever they've got in their past, leave it be, you nutball!

GM:  Jack is shouting at Dufresne, waving him back into the ring...

[Across the ring, Rust shouts something at his partner and Jack
unhappily turns away from Dufresne, moving to help Tin Can Rust who has
Marcus Broussard cornered...

...but a rampaging Ron Houston hits a running forearm smash to the side
of Tin Can Rust's head, knocking him away from Broussard.  The San Jose
Shark jumps into the fray, connecting with a few shots on City Jack
before tossing him to the ropes.  As the big man rebounds, he's scooped
right up on the shoulders of Ron Houston!]

GM:  HOUSTON'S GOT CITY JACK UP!

[Tin Can Rust tries to intervene but Broussard tackles the legs out from
under him, taking him down to the mat.  The East Coast Terror walks
towards the ropes, the massive form of City Jack across his shoulders...

...but Jack grabs the top rope, blocking the attempt at a Fade To Black
over the ropes!]

GM:  Jack blocks it!  He's fighting the Fade To Black!

[Houston rips him away from the ropes but puts too much "oomph" behind
it, causing Jack to slip out of his arms and land on his feet behind the
former National Champion.  Houston spins around...

...and catches a Metropill right on the jaw!]

GM:  OHHHHH!

[The blow causes Houston to fall back into the ropes where his momentum
bounces him back towards Jack who has his arms spread, ready for the
Metroboom...

...but instead gets DRILLED with a heart punch right on target!]

GM:  PULSE KILLER!

[The impact of the blow drops Jack instantly and Houston falls down
right next to him a moment later.]

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[The crowd responds with a mild cheer as "The Legacy" Mark Adams Jr.
comes charging down the aisle, quickly getting into the ring.]

GM:  Mark Adams Jr., the other alternate hits the ring at #27!

BW:  He didn't waste any time, did he?

[Adams Jr. springs into action, flooring Adrian Freeman with a chop
before picking him right back up off the mat, looking to eliminate
him...

...but the Ladykiller rolls back in, drilling Adams from behind to
prevent his partner from being eliminated.]

GM:  Mark Adams is tangled up immediately with Freeman and Dufresne.

BW:  No surprise there.

GM:  Why is that?

BW:  Unlike you, I do my research before the show.

GM:  What does that mean?  Bucky?

BW:  Gordo, I just realized something.  We've got three men left to come
to the ring.  Adam Rogers, Kevin Slater... and a mystery entry!  We
STILL may not have seen our winner hit the ring!

[Tin Can Rust and Marcus Broussard continue to trade blows in the corner
as a few feet away, Stevie Scott is working over Lucius Sole.]

GM:  Freeman and Dufresne are pummeling Mark Adams in the corner...
double whip across the ring... 

[Freeman charges across first, connecting with a running clothesline
before turning to throw Adams to a waiting Dufresne who buries a boot in
his gut, tugging him into a front facelock...]

GM:  No!

[Dufresne sneers as he hoists Adams up off the mat...

...and SPIKES him skullfirst into the canvas with the implant DDT!]

GM:  I refuse to call that move.

BW:  I don't.  WHAM, BAM, THANK YOU MA'AM!

[On the other side of the ring, Juan Vasquez is hammering Raphael Rhodes
against the ropes, blood pouring down his face and covering his chest as
well.]

GM:  Vasquez has lost an obscene amount of blood and-

[With Rhodes stunned, Tin Can Rust charges across the ring, connecting
with a clothesline that takes the Catch Thug over the ropes and down to
the floor below!]

GM:  OHHH!  Rhodes is gone!  Rhodes is out!

BW:  Raphael Rhodes came in almost a half hour ago, Gordo!

GM:  It was a valiant effort for a man who wrestled earlier tonight as
well but in the end, he just couldn't survive the whole time.  He
couldn't outlast twenty-nine other men and become the Number One
contender to the National Title!

[Outside the ring, Raphael Rhodes climbs back up on the apron, grabbing
Vasquez by the hair.  Juan Vasquez, bloodied and exhausted, spins around
to grapple with Rhodes, trying to free himself...

...which allows Lucius Sole to sneak up on Vasquez, up-ending Vasquez
over the ropes and down to the floor as well!]

GM:  Vasquez is gone too!  Rhodes and Vasquez both go over the top to
the floor within mere seconds of one another and they are both out of
this match.  Two of the men that many were predicting would win the
whole thing are out of the 2009 Rumble!

BW:  We're down to ten men in the ring, three men in the locker room. 
One of thirteen men will be challenging the Russian War Machine, Kolya
Sudakov, for the National Title on the 4th of July!

GM:  And there are still a lot of men inside that ring that Sudakov, I
can guarantee you, has NO desire to face.  

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[And the crowd breaks into jeers for the man who returned at the start
of the show, "Superstar" Kevin Slater.]

GM:  Slater draws #28!

BW:  After coming into the Rumble last year at #1, Slater hit the mother
lode this year.  #28 is a fantastic spot to be in and what in the world
would the AWA think if Slater won this in his return to the ring? 
"Superstar" Kevin Slater vs Kolya Sudakov on the 4th of July!  I'd buy a
ticket for that one!

GM:  I would too.  To see Slater get his diabolical head kicked off.

BW:  Hey!

[Slater trots down the aisle, racing past Juan Vasquez as he slides
under the ropes into the ring...

...and immediately drills Marcus Broussard with a right hand to the back
of the head, joining Freeman and Dufresne in stomping Broussard into the
canvas.]

GM:  Freeman and Broussard... and Dufresne for that matter.  They've all
been in there for a long, long time.  Adrian Freeman came in at #3...
he's getting close to the hour mark!  Broussard was in at #5, Dufresne
at #8 - impressive performances for all of those men.  They're still
alive as we get down to the final two men to enter this ring tonight.

[Tin Can Rust and City Jack grab Lucius Sole away from his attack on
Stevie Scott.  Rust starts to move back in towards Scott but Jack cuts
him off, steering him back to Sole.  The National Tag Team Champions
double whip Sole across the ring...

...and then sidestep in unison, HURLING Sole over the ropes to the
floor!]

GM:  OHHHH!  LUCIUS SOLE IS GONE!  Ten men remain!

[Freeman, Dufresne, and Slater continue to batter Broussard in the
corner while Tumaffi chokes Houston in the opposite corner with his bare
foot.  Mark Adams is pulling himself off the mat as Kentucky's Pride is
looking for more people to eliminate...

...and they connect with a double clothesline on Adams, taking him over
the ropes to the floor!]

GM:  Mark Adams is gone!  Down to nine in the ring, eleven total.  We're
down to eleven men who stand a chance to become the National Champion on
the 4th of July!

[Slater hops up on the top turnbuckle as Freeman shoves Broussard
towards him.  The "Superstar" hooks a front facelock on the San Jose
Shark as he looks out over the crowd...

...and then kicks off the buckles, twisting through the air.]

GM:  OHHHHH!  TORNADO DDT ON BROUSSARD!

BW:  I don't know how Broussard is even walking with the beating he's
taken tonight, Gordo.  He's been in the ring for fifty minutes or so
just absolutely getting pummeled over and over by... most of the time by
Dufresne and Freeman!

GM:  Fans, we're going to take one final commercial break!  We'll be
right back!

[Hold on a shot of Slater leaning over Broussard, badmouthing the San
Jose Shark before fading 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 fade back to live action where Adam Rogers is heading for
the ring!]

GM:  Welcome back, fans!  Adam Rogers is #29!  The Natural, the former
World Champion, is heading for the ring!

[Rogers dives headfirst under the ropes into the ring...

...and immediately gets tackled by both Freeman and Dufresne down to the
mat where they start punching and kicking at him.  Slater abandons the
downed Broussard to assist, kicking Rogers, trying to knock the fight
out of him as he struggles against his weakened opposition.]

GM:  Rogers in at #29...

BW:  And who do you think he bribed to get that?

GM:  What are you talking about?

BW:  Hey!  You thought Sole had done it!  What about Rogers?  How did he
get such a prime spot? 

GM:  The luck of the draw, Bucky, the luck of the draw.

[With Slater, Freeman, and Dufresne working over the latest entry into
the match, attention turns towards Tumaffi who is chopping Ron Houston
in the buckles.  Grabbing him by the wrist, Tumaffi whips him across the
ring to the opposite corner...

...and then charges in after him!]

GM:  AVALANNNNNNNNCH- 

[The crowd ROARS as Houston dives out of the way of the big corner
splash, narrowly avoiding four hundred pounds crashing into his body. 
Tumaffi wobbles out of the corner, dazed from the impact...

...and Houston ducks down, trying to get Tumaffi up onto his shoulders!]

GM:  He's trying to get Tumaffi up!  He's going for the Fade To Black!

BW:  Fade To Black on Tumaffi?!  Are you kidding me?!

GM:  Houston's going for it!  He's trying to get him up!

[But a Metropill right on the chin from City Jack knocks Houston flat,
causing Tumaffi to slip out of his arms...

...which allows the massive Samoan to drop a HUUUUUGE legdrop down on
the neck of Houston!]

GM:  OHHHH!  That might be it for Ron Houston!  His night may be over,
Bucky.

BW:  I don't think anyone gets up from that.

GM:  Tumaffi's kneeling next to him, trying to catch his breath.  The
Samoan's been in the match for about fifteen minutes or so but carrying
around four hundred pounds isn't an easy thing ever but especially in a
match like this.

[Across the ring, Slater shoves Rogers back into the corner...

...where the Natural starts to fight back, throwing a haymaker at
Slater, then one at Freeman, then one at Dufresne, knocking all three
men down to the canvas which allows the former World Champion to escape
the corner...

...and walk right into a brutal shot to the jaw by Tin Can Rust!]

GM:  Ohh!  What a shot by Rust!  

BW:  Gordo, look at the talent still inside this ring right now.  We've
got two former National Champions in Broussard and Houston.  We've got
the current National Tag Team Champs in Kentucky's Pride.  The biggest
man in the sport in Tumaffi.  Two former World Champs in Slater and
Rogers.  The men who are the future of our sport in Freeman, Broussard,
and Dufresne.

GM:  What about Stevie Scott?

BW:  Can't be perfect all the time.

GM:  Give me a break.  But you're right, Bucky... that is a top-notch
group of talent and somewhere in this building, Kolya Sudakov is
starting to get very nervous.

BW:  I don't know about that but we're in for one heck of a night on the
4th of July, daddy!

GM:  Bucky, the countdown for the final man is on!

"TEN!"
"NINE!"
"EIGHT!"
"SEVEN!"
"SIX!"
"FIVE!"
"FOUR!"
"THREE!"
"TWO!"
"ONE!"

"BZZZZZZZ!"

[All eyes turn towards the entrance...

...and the crowd ERUPTS into cheers once more!]

GM:  What the-?!  BOBBY TAYLOR IS THE FINAL MAN IN THE RUMBLE!

[The Outlaw of Professional Wrestling certainly doesn't look like he had
any plans to compete, charging down the aisle in street clothes... which
in this case are dress pants, a pair of cowboy boots, and a wifebeater
undershirt.]

GM:  Taylor's the final man and... Slater doesn't know it yet!

[Taylor dives headfirst under the ropes, dispatching of an incoming
Adrian Freeman with a right hand.  The Outlaw slips in behind Kevin
Slater - watching... waiting...]

GM:  The crowd is going nuts!  Taylor's come for Slater!  Taylor's here
for Kevin Slater's hide!

[With the crowd roaring, Kevin Slater slowly turns...

...and promptly gets a boot to the gut by Bobby Taylor who yanks his
former friend into a front facelock!]

GM:  CATTLEBUST-

[But before he can spike Slater's psychotic skull into the canvas,
Taylor is nailed from behind by Calisto Dufresne, a blow that allows
Slater to escape from his grip.  The Outlaw DRILLS Dufresne with a right
hand, turning back towards Slater...

...who HURLS himself over the top rope, fleeing up the aisle towards the
locker room area as quickly as he can!]

GM:  Slater just threw himself out!  He eliminated himself to get away
from Bobby Taylor!

[An outraged Taylor does the same thing, throwing himself over the top
rope before breaking into a sprint down the aisle, chasing his former
friend right out of the Arena Theatre in Houston, Texas!]

GM:  Taylor's gone as well!  We're down to nine!  One of these nine men
standing inside the ring will be the winner of this Rumble, will be the
Number One contender, and will be the man to face Kolya Sudakov for the
National Title on the 4th of July!

[With only nine men left, Adrian Freeman and Calisto Dufresne go right
back to the strategy that has carried them through the match so far:
isolate Marcus Broussard in the corner...

...but this time, Adam Rogers is there with other ideas!]

GM:  Rogers is helping Broussard!

BW:  No, he's not!  He's just attacking the two men who've been making
his life hell over the past month or so!  He's all over Dufresne and
Freeman!

[Near the ropes, City Jack is peppering Tumaffi with right hands,
knocking the big Samoan back into the ropes...

...and then he switches to Metropills, rocking Tumaffi over and over
with the big forearm smashes.  Tin Can Rust, his tag team partner, moves
in to assist, throwing big haymakers to the head of the mighty Samoan. 
Together, they hit the far ropes, rebounding back with a double tackle
that causes Tumaffi to fall back into the ropes, hanging on to the top
rope to stay on his feet.  With a nod to one another, they both drop
down to grab a leg of the mountain of a man, hoisting him up off the
canvas.]

GM:  Kentucky's Pride is trying to eliminate Tumaffi!  Kentucky's Pride
is trying to topple the big man!

[With the crowd roaring at the scene inside the ring, most fans fail to
notice Shane Destiny slinking back down the aisle towards the ring.]

GM:  What is HE doing out here?

BW:  I'll give you two guesses.

[Fighting back against the tag team champions, Tumaffi drills Tin Can
Rust with a headbutt that forces Rust to drop his leg.  A clubbing blow
to the back of City Jack's head causes Jack to do the same, stumbling
away from the ropes...

...where a huge thrust kick to the jaw by Tumaffi puts Jack down on the
mat.  The massive Samoan stands over City Jack, staring down, then moves
to hit the ropes.]

GM:  He's gonna splash City Ja- WHOA!

[The crowd gasps as Shane Destiny pulls down the top rope at just the
right time, causing Tumaffi to tumble over the ropes, crashing down in a
mammoth heap on the wooden stage!]

GM:  TUMAFFI'S GONE!

BW:  That COMPLETELY changes this match, Gordo!  The biggest man in the
match is eliminated and we're down to eight men!  Eight men battling it
out to win this thing.

GM:  Shane Destiny, that sneaky little... he just cost Tumaffi a chance
at the National Title!

[Destiny beats a quick retreat, knowing the giant will not be in a good
mood when he gets back to his feet.]

GM:  Eight men remain.  Freeman, Dufresne, Broussard, Rogers, Kentucky's
Pride, Ron Houston, and Stevie Scott... what a final eight!  

BW:  And right now, I almost have to give the edge to Kentucky's Pride! 
The tag champs working together might be able to run the table here,
Gordo.

GM:  You could be right.

[Sensing the same thing, Rust and City Jack move in on Ron Houston,
cornering him and laying in some heavy blows to the former National
Champion.  On the other side of the ring, Adrian Freeman DRIVES Rogers'
skull into the mat with a DDT!]

GM:  Ohh!  They took Rogers down!

[Sliding under the ropes, Calisto Dufresne snatches the ringbell away
from the timekeeper, rolling back into the ring.]

GM:  Dufresne's got the ringbell!  What in the- somebody stop him!

[The Ladykiller nods his head, waving for Freeman to pick Rogers back
up.  The Australian obliges, holding Rogers by the hair as Dufresne
measures him with the ringbell...

...and charges forward!]

GM:  Not like this!  Not like-

[Calisto Dufresne DRIVES the metal ring bell solidly into human skull
but not the skull of Adam Rogers.]

GM:  OHHH!

BW:  I don't believe it!

[The crowd gasps in collective shock as just before the bell hit the
skull of Adam Rogers, a blow certain to take him out of the match, the
San Jose Shark, Marcus Broussard threw himself in front of the blow,
taking the full force of the ring bell into the side of his head, a shot
that knocks the former National Champion over the ropes to the floor!]

GM:  Broussard is down!  He's out to the floor!  He sacrificed himself
to save Rogers!  He sacrificed himself to-

[Dufresne shakes his head in disbelief, winding up with the bell
again...

...but this time, Adam Rogers ducks out of the way, causing Dufresne to
DRILL Freeman with the ring bell, a blow that causes Freeman to sail
over the ropes to the floor!]

GM:  OHHH!  FREEMAN'S GONE!

[A stunned Dufresne winds up with the bell again...

...and EATS a Metropill right on target that sends Dufresne flying over
the ropes to the floor!]

GM:  DUFRESNE AS WELL!

BW:  The three men who had lasted the longest in this match just got
eliminated one right after the other!  

GM:  We're down to five men!  Kentucky's Pride, Stevie Scott, Ron
Houston, and Adam Rogers are the final five men in this match, Bucky! 
Can you believe this?

[City Jack turns around, pumping a fist in triumph for his elimination
of Calisto Dufresne...

...and finds Tin Can Rust stalking towards Stevie Scott who is working
over Ron Houston in the corner.]

GM:  Rust is going for him again!

BW:  Who cares?  We're down to five!

GM:  Rust is-

[The crowd buzzes with confusion as City Jack stops Tin Can Rust,
spinning his partner around and sticking an accusatory finger in his
face.  An annoyed Rust shoves his partner back a step.]

GM:  Uh oh.  This can't be good news for-

[Rust spins back away from Jack, moving in on Scott...

...but Jack spins him around again, shouting at his partner before
delivering a shove of his own, a blow that knocks Rust into Stevie Scott
from behind!]

GM:  Ohh!  Jack shoved him into Stevie!

[The Hotshot spins around in the corner, spotting Tin Can Rust turning
to face him...

...and uncorks a Heatseeker!]

GM:  HEATSEEK- OHHHHHH!

[The crowd ERUPTS as Tin Can Rust ducks the superkick and then sees it
bounce right off the chin of City Jack, a blow that sends him reeling
towards the ropes...

...where Adam Rogers up-ends him, dumping Jack to the floor!]

GM:  CITY JACK'S GONE!

[An irate Tin Can Rust grabs Stevie Scott from behind, firing him
towards the ropes...

...but the Hotshot ducks under a clothesline attempt that runs Rust
right into a waiting Ron Houston who backdrops Rust clear over the ropes
and down to the floor!]

GM:  OHHH!  RUST IS GONE AS WELL!  THE TAG CHAMPS ARE OUT!  WE'RE DOWN
TO THRE- OHHHHHHHHHHH!

[The crowd ERUPTS as Stevie Scott rebounds off the ropes after ducking
the clothesline, getting hoisted into the air by Ron Houston...

...and PLANTED on the canvas with a Fade To Black in the center of the
ring!]

GM:  FADE TO BLACK!  FADE TO BLACK ON STEVIE!

[With the Hotshot down in the middle of the ring, Houston's attention is
drawn by an attacking Adam Rogers who batters the East Coast Terror into
the ropes.  Rogers tees off with chops across the chest.]

GM:  Rogers with the wrist... big whip... running clothesline by Rogers!

[The Natural drives home a few stomps, looking down at the big man on
the mat, pondering how to get him over the ropes and down to the floor. 
He drags Houston up by the hair, uncorking a pair of right hands that
knocks him back against the ropes.]

GM:  Backed into the ropes... Rogers trying to oust him...

[The former World Champion leans over, grabbing the legs of Houston,
hoisting him off the mat...]

GM:  He's got both legs up but I don't know if he- ohh!  Houston kicks
him off...

[And as Rogers moves back in, Houston LUNGES forward to connect with a
crushing lariat that takes them both down to the mat!]

GM:  Both men down off that one.   Rogers has only been in there a few
minutes.  Houston a little bit longer... maybe a little over ten minutes
but he's giving it everything he's got as well.  Both of these men want
to be in that title match so badly.  Both of these men want a shot at
Sudakov so badly.

[Climbing back to his feet, Houston reaches down, pulling Rogers off the
mat by the hair...

...and hoists him up in a fireman's carry.]

GM:  He's got him up!  He's dragging Rogers over near the ropes!  He's
gonna take him over the top just like he did to Broussard in 2008!  He's
gonna-

[Ever a student of the game, Adam Rogers knows exactly what Ron Houston
intends to do and starts throwing elbows and knees to the head of the
East Coast Terror as quickly as he can, freeing himself from his grasp.]

GM:  Rogers slips free!  

[Grabbing Houston by the arm, Rogers fires him across the ring, dropping
back to set near the ropes...

...and sidesteps the rebounding Houston, HURLING him over the ropes!]

GM:  OVER THE- HE HELD ON!  HE HELD ON!

[The crowd buzzes with a mixed reaction as Houston clings to the ropes,
crashing down on the apron.  A frustrated Rogers moves over towards the
ropes, dragging Houston back to his feet, and drilling him with a right
hand, trying to knock the former National Champion down to the floor!]

GM:  Rogers is trying to knock him down to the floor!  Houston went over
the top so if he hits the floor, he's eliminated still!  The Natural is
pummeling him, trying to knock him off the apron...

[Houston hangs on to the top rope with one hand, falling back with his
arm at full extension, just a slip of a finger away from falling to the
floor.  Rogers grabs at the hand, trying to pry the fingers free from
their iron grip (~!) on the ropes.]

GM:  Rogers is trying to get those fingers off the rope... trying to-

[Suddenly, Houston pulls himself in with his powerful arm, reaching over
the ropes and somehow lifting Rogers straight up into the fireman's
carry!]

GM:  Oh my god!  Oh my god!  He's got Rogers up on his shoulders on the
apron!  He's got-

[But as Houston prepares for the Fade To Black that'll eliminate Adam
Rogers from the match, someone has other ideas...]

GM:  STEVIE!

[A barely standing Stevie Scott lunges into action, coiling up into a
ball, and lashing out, driving his foot right under the chin of Ron
Houston with a Heatseeker superkick.  The blow makes sudden and harsh
impact, snapping Houston's head back...

And then causing him to fall backwards, seemingly in slow motion...

All with Adam Rogers draped helplessly across his shoulders, trying
desperately to grab the ropes...

To no avail as both men crash to the concrete floor.]

GM:  OH MY STARS!  STEVIE SCOTT HAS DONE IT!  STEVIE SCOTT HAS DONE IT! 
STEVIE SCOTT HAS DONE IT!

[The Hotshot falls to his knees in the middle of the ring, pumping both
fists in triumph as he lets loose a wail of victory with the crowd
roaring in celebration.]

MC:  Ladies and gentlemen... your winner of the match... 

And NEW Number One Contender to the National Title...

"HOTSHOT"...

STEEEEEEEEEVIE SCOTT!

[The crowd's roar somehow intensifies with the announcement, the words
somehow bringing Stevie Scott back to his feet, racing to the corner
where he hops up to the midbuckle, looking out over the cheering fans
and paying tribute to them all.]

GM:  Stevie Scott has done it!  Stevie Scott has climbed the tall
mountain back from nothing and he is standing on top of the wrestling
world!  He has won the 2009 Rumble and in the process he has earned a
shot at the National Title and Kolya Sudakov on the 4th of July!

BW:  I can't... I don't... I won't... not him.  Anybody but him!

GM:  Stevie Scott has won the Rumble!  And listen to these fans here in
Houston, Texas!  They are going nuts for the Hotshot and who would have
ever believed that!

[The cheers somehow STILL grow louder as Sweet Daddy Williams heads back
to the ring, joining his friend and tag team partner in the ring.  The
two men embrace in the middle of the ring to the roars of the crowd as
Stevie Scott enjoys every second of it.]

GM:  Fans, we're out of time!  We've got to go!  For Jason Dane and
Bucky Wilde, I'm Gordon Myers wishing you so long from Memorial Day
Mayhem where Stevie Scott is the king of the mountain top!

[The camera holds on Stevie Scott and Sweet Daddy Williams, the Hotshot
up on the midbuckle, making the "belt gesture" as Sweet Daddy Williams
beams with pride at his friend and tag team partner, the crowd on their
feet continuing to cheer both men...

...as we fade to black.]