Access

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[Fade in from black to a snazzy looking AWA ACCESS logo.  It looks like
someone's been learnin' Illustrator!  I bet it's that Jason Dane kid. 
He seems like a real smart cookie, a fast learner, and a go-getter with
worlds of potential.

It also seems like he's standing in front of a kinda cheesy looking CGI
green screen backdrop with the same logo on it.  He's in a black polo
with the AWA logo stitched over the breast pocket and seems quite cheery
for someone who is habitually verbally abused by the masses.]

JD:  Hello everyone and welcome to a very special edition of AWA Access!
 We are coming to you from our old home in the WKIK Studios for what
promises to be a lot of fun.

Earlier this week, the AWA rolled into San Antonio, Texas, for a special
live arena event where we planned on having four big first round matches
in the tournament to crown the first Longhorn Heritage Champion!  We
also had many other AWA superstars on hand for this big return to the
road and our cameras - plus yours truly and a variety of co-hosts - were
LIVE on the scene to call some of the action.

Tonight, we plan to bring you highlights from that show in San Antonio
with words from many AWA superstars, some live action, and who knows, we
may even have a surprise or two!

So, without anything further, let's head out to San Antonio where the
cameras were rolling!

[We crossfade to footage marked, "OCTOBER 6 - SAN ANTONIO ROSE PALACE." 
There is a cheering crowd roaring as the show begins.  We can see the
standard AWA ring in the middle of the building surrounded by rope
"barricades."  The aisleway has the more traditional metal railings but
lacks the elevated ramp used at some AWA events.  A quick fade shows
Jason Dane in a similar outfit to what we just saw.]

JD:  WE!  ARE!  LIVE!  AWA fans have jammed into the San Antonio Rose
Palace for what is sure to be an exciting night of action and I am
overjoyed to be out here on the road with THE Major League of
professional wrestling.  Gordon Myers and Bucky Wilde have the night off
so I'll be here calling all the action - and joining me to assist with
that will be a host of different people throughout the night.

Of course, the big reason we're here is the Longhorn Heritage Title
tournament.  We'll be seeing four big showdowns from the first round
here tonight but that's not the only reason we're here.  We have some
other matches going on as well.

[We fade to graphic showing Pugnacio Supremo on the left and SWLL
superstar El Caliente on the right.]

JD:  Now THIS is my kind of opener, fans - with two lucha libre
superstars going head to head right here in San Antonio.  Let's take a
look at some of the highlights from this one.

[We fade to a moment that is presumably a few minutes into the match as
both men still look relatively fresh.  Supremo locks his fingers with El
Caliente, running towards the ropes where he runs right up them,
backflipping off the top, and yanking Caliente down to the canvas with
an armdrag!]

JD:  Oh yeah!  Nice looking armdrag there by Supremo!  Supremo really
got off to a fast start in the AWA when he debuted by taking one-half of
the former National Tag Team Champions Adrian Freeman to a time limit
draw but has really seemed to struggle since then.  His lucha libre
stylings inside the ring are very different than most of the AWA
superstars and he seems to have had a problem finding his stride.

[With Caliente reeling, Supremo charges him, leaping into the air to
hook Caliente's head with his legs in preparation for a rana...

...but Caliente holds his ground, the small highflyer pushing Supremo
off into a backflip.  As soon as Supremo hits the mat, Caliente pops him
under the chin with a thrust kick that knocks his fellow masked man
backwards, through the ropes to the floor!]

JD:  Supremo goes down to the floor!  Right through the ropes!  And look
out now...

[Getting a running start, Caliente hits the far ropes, rebounding
back...

...and takes flight with a breathtaking corkscrew plancha dive over the
ropes to the floor!]

JD:  PLAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNCHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!  OHHH QUE MORTAL!

[The crowd roars for the death-defying move that wipes out both
luchadors, leaving them motionless on the floor.  The referee starts his
ten count...

...and we fade ahead a little deeper into the match.]

JD:  Supremo drags himself up on the apron but Caliente is waiting for
him!

[With Supremo dazed, Caliente slings himself between the ropes, catching
Supremo in the gut with a shoulderblock.  The high-flying luchador pulls
Supremo's head between the top and middle ropes, charging to the
adjacent ropes...

...and airballing on a running dropkick, crashing down to the canvas
near the ropes.]

JD:  He missed!  Caliente misses the dropkick and-

[Without missing a beat, Supremo grabs the top rope, slingshotting
himself over into a senton.]

JD:  KING!  SIZED!  SENTON!  165 pounds straight down on the chest!

[We see the referee count to two before we fade deeper into the match...

...just as Caliente sets Supremo up on the top turnbuckle.  The high
flyer dashes back to the opposite corner.  He leaps into the air,
pointing to one side of the crowd.  The few SWLL fans in the house
respond, "SPICY!"  He leaps again, pointing to the other side.  Again,
the few SWLL fans in the crowd respond, "HOT!"  And then he dashes
across the ring at full speed...]

JD:  He's going for the Spicy Hot Rana - the signature move of El
Caliente!

[The wildly masked luchador leaps to the second rope on the right side
of the ring, springing off to the top rope on the left side of the ring,
and springing off one more time to snare Supremo in a top rope rana...

...but Supremo's legs are wrapped around the middle rope, preventing the
move and causing Caliente to crash down chestfirst on the canvas!]

JD:  HE WENT FOR IT ALL AND CAME UP SNAKE EYES!!

[Supremo seizes the moment to step up to the top rope, pointing out to
the cheering fans...

...and uncorks a beautiful 450 splash, crashing down across the back of
Caliente!  He promptly flips his opponent to his back and gains the
referee's three count.]

JD:  Pugnacio Supremo scored a big, big win down in San Antonio by
beating fellow luchador El Caliente but it remains to be seen if that
will be enough to put the man from Monterey, Mexico on track here in the
American Wrestling Alliance.  And now, let's take a look at what
happened when we caught up with Tin Can Rust back in the locker room
just moments before his first round showdown with "Gentleman" Jack
Holland!

[Shot cuts to a plain black backdrop where Tin Can Rust stands by,
alone, looking straight into the camera.]

TCR: Jack Holland, tonight you and I meet. I can't say I know you much
other than what I saw of you last week. 

[Rust pauses, sort of shaking his head at the "Gentleman"'s words.]

TCR: I ain't going to go about saying what I'm going to do tonight or
threaten you none - I'll let my actions tell those words.

[The Kentuckian nods.]

TCR: So the only real thing I do have to say to you is...  you're
standing in my way. In my road to the Longhorn Heritage Title. And no
tough talker's going to prevent me from continuing on.

[With that, Rust brings up his hand and clenches it to a fist before the
shot cuts out and back to the ring where we see Tin Can Rust cornering
Holland and teeing off with right hands in the buckles.]

JD:  The first Longhorn Heritage Tournament match of the night was off
to a very quick start.  Tin Can Rust obviously wanted to get the match
done in a hurry and was letting Holland know just how tough of an
individual he is inside that squared circle.

[Grabbing Holland by the arm, Rust fires him from corner to corner,
following him in with a running clothesline.  A second whip follows suit
but this time, when he charges in, he catches a boot to the midsection
that doubles him up...

...and Holland ROCKS Rust with a running kneelift that knocks the
veteran flat!]

JD:  LOOK AT THAT KNEELIFT!  Good grief, Charlie Brown!  His jaw may be
in the third row after that one!

[Holland leans against the ropes, obviously pleased with his handiwork
as we fade to later in the match...

...where Holland has Rust trapped in the corner, teeing off with rights
and lefts to the midsection.  A few chops across the chest follow before
Holland connects with a knife-edge chop to the temple that makes the
crowd groan as Rust slumps down to the mat.]

JD:  Some brutal striking on display by "Gentleman" Jack Holland.  He
drags Rust out of the corner by the back of the head - a little bit of
trash talking going on now...

[And Holland's mouth gets him in trouble as Rust CREAMS him with a right
hand, knocking him several steps back.  Holland is trying to clear the
cobwebs when a big boot to the side of the kneeling Gentleman's face
sends him through the ropes to the floor!]

JD:  Mercy!  Tin Can Rust is on a mission here tonight in San Antonio. 
And now he's going out after Holland!

[Out on the floor, Rust pulls Holland to his feet, grabbing him by the
arm...

...and WHIPPING him spinefirst into the ring apron!  Rust continues to
pummel him with haymakers as we fade to later in the match where Rust is
on the middle rope, battering him with ten count punches!]

JD:  These fans are solidly behind Tin Can Rust here in San Antonio! 
They're counting off the punches as he delivers big shots to the skull
of Holland!

[But at the count of seven, Holland somehow manages to wriggle out from
under Rust, standing up behind him to hook the back of the trunks and
YANKS him down off his perch, sending him crashing backfirst down to the
canvas.]

JD:  OHHH!  RUST GOES DOWN!  RUST GOES DOWN!

[Trying to seize the moment, Holland approaches the downed Rust, yanking
him up to his feet and immediately going for the half nelson.]

JD:  Holland is going for the half nelson suplex!  If he hits this,
he'll move right into the Razorwire Blues and it'll be all over for
Rust!

[With the half nelson sunk in, Holland goes for the suplex but Rust is
ready for it, throwing his free elbow back into the side of Holland's
head a few times to loosen the grip...

...and DRIVES his body backwards to break the hold but ends up squashing
the ref between Holland's body and the buckles!]

JD:  THE REF GOT IN THE WAY!!  Bad in-ring positioning by the official
and he just got the hammer laid down on him right there!

[The referee crumples to the canvas as Rust turns around, yanking
Holland out by the arm and firing him into the ropes.]

JD:  Irish whip off the ropes...

[And when Holland rebounds, Rust scoops him up under his arm, spinning
around, and DRIVING him down to the canvas!]

JD:  CAN CRUSHER!  CAN CRUSHER!  HE GOT ALL OF THAT!!

[Rust drops down in a lateral press, reaching back to hook a leg for the
three count...

...but the three count does not come thanks to a badly-shaken Marty
Meekly who is still down in the corner.]

JD:  There's no referee!  Rust has the pin but there's no referee!

[After a few moments, Tin Can Rust gets up, shaking his head at the
sight of the downed official.  He slowly approaches, shaking the referee
to try to revive him...

...and fails to notice Calisto Dufresne hurdle the barricade, rolling
under the ropes in street clothes.]

JD:  DUFRESNE'S IN THE RING!  CALISTO DUFRESNE'S IN THE RING!!

[And just as Rust turns around, Dufresne buries a boot in the
midsection, pulling him into a front facelock.  He hoists him up off the
mat and DRIVES him down with a thunderous lifting DDT!]

JD:  WHAM, BAM, THANK YOU MA'AM!!!

[With Rust absolutely dead to the world, Dufresne throws the arm of the
downed Holland across the chest.  He walks to the corner, violently
shaking the official and shoving him out to the middle of the ring
before dropping down to the mat and rolling out to the floor.]

JD:  No, no!  Not like this!

[But the referee's arm goes up and down three times before he calls for
the bell.]

JD:  "Gentleman" Jack Holland is moving on in the tournament thanks to
Calisto Dufresne!  Come on!

[The camera catches the smirking face of Calisto Dufresne as he
backpedals up the aisle, shaking his head as Jack Holland celebrates his
victory.

JD:  Jack Holland is your winner - he'll move on to face either Robert
Donovan or Jesse Ewiak.  We'll find out the winner of that one later
tonight but for right now, let's go back to the locker room area where
we caught up with "Playboy" Johnny Casanova!

[Backstage, Mark Stegglet is once again struggling to say anything as
the Playboy Johnny Casanova is in full flow.]

JC: Scotty Mayhem, ya tried once more, and ya couldn't get the job done!
Because at the end of the day, Johnny C and Big Mama here...

[He breaks off for a second to plant a kiss on Big Mama's cheek,
allowing Stegglet to dive in with a question.]

MS: Some people would say that you took the cheap way out, Johnny, when
your manager here laid her hands on poor Miss Amanda!

JC: Cheap way out? Are ya kidding me, Steggles baby? As I was saying,
the Playboy and Big Mama thought long and hard about how we could show
poor Scotty the error of his ways, and we saw our chance. So Big Mama
decided to have a little talk with Miss Amanda... and just because she
brought her out to take a look at the sight of her boyfriend being
taught a wrestling lesson by Johnny Cas, Scotty Mayhem goes crazy! So at
the end of the day, it's an L for Scotty Mayhem, and Johnny Casanova is
taking his rightful place in the Longhorn title tournament! And Mark -
ya gotta see how good I look in gold! 

[Cut back to the ring where we see a young man walking back and forth,
being introduced as Brody Reed.]

JD:  Joining me on commentary on this match is the one and only Eric
Preston.  Eric, welcome to San Antonio!

EP:  Thanks, Jason.

JD:  And if you heard that competitor get introduced - his name is Brody
Reed and he is the younger brother of the man, James Reed, who was
brutally beaten on the last Saturday Night Wrestling by James Monosso. 
And I have to say, his name is quite unfortunate for this young man from
New Mexico considering he's about to-

[The sounds of the theme to Halloween fill the air - as do a crapload of
boos.]

JD:  Here.  Comes.  Trouble.

[The crowd's jeers grow louder as James Monosso emerges from the
entryway, trailed by the devious-looking Percy Childes.  Childes angrily
shouts at ringside fans, jabbing the air with his cane as Monosso stomps
down the aisle, pointing at the ring.  He rolls under the ropes upon
reaching the ring, climbing to his feet...

...and stampedes across, barreling over the surprised Reed with a
running double axehandle, knocking him down to the mat!]

JD:  Monosso's right on him!  Not wasting a moment!

EP:  This is the kind of fight you have to expect from James Monosso. 
He comes right at you a million miles an hour and you have to be ready
to fight as soon as he shows up.  Heck, before that even.  I'm ready to
fight him when I wake up in the morning.

[A pair of boots to the ribs puts Reed out to the floor as we cut to
footage later in the match...

...which sees Monosso repeatedly stomping the face of Reed on the mat. 
The back of Reed's head is resting against the bottom turnbuckle as the
big man stomps the face again and again and again.]

JD:  A savage assault by James Monosso, just battering this young man
into the canvas.

EP:  Get in there, ref.  There's no call for that.

[The big man grabs Reed by the feet, dragging him out to the middle of
the ring where he backs into the ropes, leaping sky high, and dropping
all his weight down in a King Kong kneedrop across the chest!]

JD:  OHHHHH!  DID YOU SEE THAT?!

EP:  I saw it.  That's an easy way to pop a lung like a balloon, Jason.

JD:  It certainly is.

[Still kneeling on the chest, Monosso glares out at ringside.  He points
right at Preston as he hauls the young man to his feet.  Holding him by
the trunks with one hand, the big man HURLS him through the ropes into
the steel post!]

JD:  Shoulderfirst into the steel goes Brody Reed - and you know what's
coming after that, Eric.

EP:  I'm afraid I do.

[Monosso steps out on the apron, glaring down at Preston who is just a
few feet away at this point...

...and charges down the length of the apron, raising his foot, and
SMASHING Reed's skull into the steel post!]

JD:  Gaaaaah.  That's just a horrific thing to see.

EP:  Even worse to feel.  I'll tell you that.

JD:  The referee's really letting him have it for that one.  Warning him
against it.  That's totally illegal.

EP:  Monosso couldn't give a damn, Jason.  And listen to Childes!  He's
telling this nutjob to do it again!

JD:  If he does it again, he might get disqualified!

EP:  Like I said, he couldn't give a damn.

[Monosso backs away, turning to stare at Preston again...

...and breaks into a sprint, delivering the boot to the skull again,
smashing Brody Reed's skull into the ringpost!]

JD:  OHHHHHHH!


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


JD:  The bell has rung.  The referee is putting a stop to this carnage!

EP:  It's about time.

[With Reed hanging lifelessly between the ropes, Monosso retreats
backwards, throwing his arms apart with a scream.]

JD:  James Monosso is a man completely unhinged, Eric.  He has been
disqualified for excessive brutality and a deliberate attempt to injure
his opponent and he doesn't even acknowledge that.  And to make matters
worse, I'm not sure his manager, Percy Childes, is upset either!

EP:  This guy is completely out of control and at some time in some
place, somebody's going to have to stop him.

JD:  Is that someone you?

EP:  I can't think of a better choice, Jason.

[Monosso steps back into the ring, shoving down the official who tries
to block his path.]

JD:  Now, wait a second!  There's no call for that!

[The big man approaches the corner, dragging Reed from the buckles by
the back of the trunks into a side waistlock...]

JD:  Oh no!

[Suddenly, a "THUNK!" is heard from the announce table.  The camera cuts
to ringside where Eric Preston has abandoned the announce desk, stepping
up on it, and climbing through the ropes where he blasts Monosso from
the blind side with a running forearm smash, knocking Reed free from the
former Happy Valley resident's grasp.  Preston spins Monosso around,
throwing haymaker after haymaker to the skull, battering him back into
the ropes.]

JD:  Eric Preston is putting a stop to this savage assault right now! 
Listen to these fans!

[The San Antonio crowd is roaring as Preston throws punch after punch
after punch up against the ropes.  Suddenly, he breaks into a sprint,
hitting the opposite ropes where he rebounds off...

...and leaps up into the air, catching Monosso under the chin with a
back elbowsmash!]

JD:  OHHHH!  HE CAUGHT HIM!!

[The blow sends Monosso stumbling through the ropes to the floor. 
Preston leaps to his feet, pumping a fist as the crowd roars their
approval...

...but Preston's not done, slingshotting himself over the ropes onto
Monosso as soon as the big man regains his feet!  Preston stays on top
of him, throwing fist after fist after fist with the crowd roaring as we
fade back to the locker room area...

...where "Superstar" Kevin Slater is standing alongside Mark Stegglet.]

MS:  Joining me at this time is the man formerly known as the Wild
Thing, Kevin Sla-

KS:  The Wild Thing is dead and buried, Marky Mark.  What you people are
looking at now is the Superstar... the Outlaw if you will... the
two-time former World Champion and the man who in just five short weeks
is gonna beat Bobby Taylor at his own game.

MS:  Speaking of which, Bobby Taylor made quite the surprising
announcement last weekend when he challenged you to Outlaw Rules at
SuperClash 2!

KS:  Surprising?  Surprising to who?

MS:  Well, you looked surpris-

KS:  I knew what was coming, Stegglet.  When you've known a man as long
as I've known Taylor... when you've spent vacations and holidays with a
man's family... when you've traveled coast to coast and around the world
in planes, trains, and automobiles like I have with Bobby Taylor, you
know what they're going to do before they do it.

And anyone who knows Bobby Taylor knows that he can't help himself but
dredge up Hardin's memory whenever the hell he gets a chance.

[Slater grins.]

KS:  But that's fine, Bobby.  You tell your sob stories about good ol'
Jay Dubba and how much he meant to you.  I'm sure the geeks on the
Internet will love hearing about it.  Hell, the people in the cheap
seats might love it too 'cause Percy Childes is right.  The only thing
these people care about anymore is nostalgia.

We hear about how great Hardin was.  We hear about great Temple was. 
Reed, James, Annis, whatever.

We even have to hear people drool over the LWC like it was some holy
ground for wrestling.

[He shakes his head.]

KS:  It was a backwater territory that ran rodeogrounds and bingo halls.
 Am I supposed to be impressed, Stegglet?  Me, Kevin Slater, a man who
was two-time World Champion in a promotion that truly traveled the whole
world.  I went by private jets and limousines and I'm supposed to be
impressed by the LWC.

To hell with the LWC.  To me, the LWC represents everything that's wrong
with Bobby Taylor.

It's old, useless, and was never as good as people claimed.

[He laughs as Stegglet shakes his head.]

KS:  So, Bobby, if you're that determined to take me to hell in Outlaw
Rules, so be it.  But just remember, I've been to hell and I've come
back better than ever each and every time.

You want nostalgia, Bobby?  Remember December of '97 in Toronto?

[Slater nudges Stegglet.]

KS:  Of course he does, right?  He never lets anyone forget it.  

Well, Bobby, what that parade of has-beens and never-weres did to you
that night ain't nothing to what this man's gonna do to you at
SuperClash.

[One more smirk.]

KS:  Ain't life grand?

[And Slater walks out of sight, leaving a disgusted Mark Stegglet
behind...

...and we fade back to live action inside the ring where Vladimir
Velikov fires Supernova into the ropes, flooring him with a side slam on
the rebound.]

JD:  We're back to tournament action where the winner of this one moves
on to face either Vernon Riley or Nenshou and either of those could
prove to be very interesting.  Joining me right now at ringside to keep
an eye out on this match is Kolya Sudakov.  Kolya, thank you for being
out here.

KS:  I came to watch Uncle Vladimir.  No more.

JD:  I see.  Well, Kolya, you have a big match yourself next Saturday
night when you meet former Olympian Sultan Azam Sharif.  Your thoughts
on that one?

KS:  Sharif is very good wrestler.  Sharif is very good AMATEUR
wrestler.  Kolya is former AWA National Champion PROFESSIONAL wrestler. 
I think that say enough, Jason Dane.

[Velikov is stomping and kicking Supernova on the canvas as we fade to
footage deeper into the match.]

JD:  Velikov continues to work over Supernova in the corner, showing off
that veteran instinct as he chokes him until four, breaks, and then
chokes again.  Are these the kind of tactics your Uncle used to teach
you?

KS:  Uncle Vladimir teach Kolya many, many things.  But when Uncle
Vladimir gets in ring with Kolya, it's Kolya who will be the teacher.

JD:  Kind of like Darth Vader and Ben Kenobi?

KS:  You are... how you say... big geek.

JD:  Well put.

[Velikov drags Supernova to his feet, flinging him towards the opposite
corner.  The big Russian charges in with a battle cry...

...but smashes chestfirst into the corner as Supernova lunges out of the
way!]

JD:  Supernova avoids the charge and-

KS:  Uncle Vladimir in trouble now.  Supernova strike very hard and very
fast.

[Grabbing Velikov by the arm, Supernova rockets him from corner to
corner.  Backing across the ring and delivering a howl, the Californian
rampages across the ring, leaping high into the air...

...and CRASHES into the chest of a stunned Velikov!]

JD:  HEAT WAVE!!

[With the Russian dazed, Supernova throws him down to the mat.  He lifts
Velikov's legs, crossing them up and then turning him over to his
stomach.]

JD:  SOLAR FLARE!!  HE'S GOT IT LOCKED!!

[And it's not long at all before Vladimir Velikov submits to the Texas
Cloverleaf to the cheers of the crowd.]

JD:  Supernova with a win by submission and he's moving on to the second
round!

KS:  He is fine competitor.  It would be great honor for Kolya to face
him in the ring someday.

JD:  Or perhaps team with him in the Stampede Cup coming up in December?

KS:  I would be honored for that as well.

JD:  Kolya, thanks for joining me out here and good luck next weekend!

[We fade from a celebrating Supernova to footage from backstage where
Mark Stegglet is standing alongside the Moonshiners.  Jug and Zeke are
their usual wild-haired and wild-eyed selves but Mange seems more
subdued.  He's eyeing Stegglet like a piece of meat.  Mark does not look
pleased.]

MS:  Joining me at this time is-

Mange:  Hush, pretty.

[Mange strokes Stegglet's hair.  Ew.]

Mange:  You know what a pretty lil' fella like yourself can get into
back 'round my parts?

[We can only hope he means "where I live" from that last part.]

Mange:  Lots and lots of trouble, pretty.  Lots of it.  And if you ever
get liquored up on a Friday night like my boys here and punch Mr. J.P.
Lawdog square in the nose, you'll find yourself reeeeeeal popular down
in the drunk tank.

[Stegglet looks really uneasy now.  More uneasy than before.  Yes, it's
possible.]

MS:  Gentlemen, I scheduled this time with you so you could talk about
your match here in just a few moments against Juan Vasquez and Marcus
Broussard!  These two are two of the most-

Mange:  Shhhhh.

[Mange puts his index finger up to Stegglet's lips.]

Mange:  You want to know how I feel about Vasquez and Broussard?

[Mange chuckles deeply.]

Mange:  May as well ask me how I feel about those rats that keep
crawlin' under my front porch back home, chewin' their way into the
house where they keep tryin' to eat my dinner.

You know what I hate most about Vasquez and Broussard?

[Stegglet shakes his head silently.]

Mange:  They's what my mama would call "too big for their britches."

[Jug howls at the sound of that and catches a hard cuff to the back of
the head from Zeke.]

Mange:  They believes they own hype, pretty.  They get all those stories
written about 'em on the computers.  They get their pretty faces on the
magazine covers.  And just 'cause the AWA and all those halfwit idiots
in the crowd tell 'em that they leave the toilet smellin' like sunshine
and roses, they think it so.

I'm here to tell 'em it ain't.

And I'm here to tell 'em that when my boys get through with 'em tonight,
they might not look so pretty no more.

Les' go, boys.

[And Mange pats Stegglet softly on the cheek before the trio walks off
camera leaving a frozen Mark Stegglet behind as we fade back to live
action where we find Juan Vasquez and Marcus Broussard trading wild
haymakers with the Moonshiners!]

JD:  Whoo boy!  And awaaaaaay we go!  It's a hot night here in San
Antonio, Texas, and one of the top contenders to the AWA National Tag
Team Titles is doing battle with two former National Champions!  And
joining me at this time is a tag team very interested in seeing how this
turns out - Scotty Storm and Marty Morgan - the Rockstar Express!

SS:  Thanks for having us out here, JD.  This is gonna be a fun one.

MM:  This is exactly why we love the AWA so much, baby.  You've got a
top flight tag team taking on two top flight singles wrestlers in a tag
throwdown.  And this is EXACTLY the kind of action you can expect to see
in a few months at the Stampede Cup!

JD:  You guys are lookin' ahead to the Cup already?

SS:  You know it, JD.  A million dollars and the chance to call yourself
the best tag team walkin' God's green Earth?  That's something that's
right up the Rockstars' alley.

[The crowd cheers for a running dropkick by Vasquez that sends Jug out
to the floor and leaves Zeke prey for a double team.]

JD:  Double whip by Vasquez and Broussard...

[A double back elbow puts Zeke down on the mat.  At a shout, Vasquez
hits the ropes, charging back...

...and jumps right into a hiptoss takeover by Broussard which sends
Vasquez up and over into a senton splash on the downed Moonshiner!]

JD:  Ohhh!

MM:  Can I call that one, JD?

JD:  Sure.

MM:  SHADES OF TOMMY STEPHENS!!

SS:  Heheh... he's always wanted to do that.

[Vasquez rolls off the downed Zeke, smirking at the cheers from the
crowd, and takes off like a bullet...

...and DIVES THROUGH THE ROPES onto Jug!]

JD:  OHHHHHH QUE MORTAL!!  A TOPE DIVE THROUGH THE ROPES!!

SS:  Ol' Juan Vasquez looked like someone shot him out of a pistol right
there, baby.  And that's exactly what he's gonna look like at SuperClash
2 when he gets in there with Sleazy Stevie Scott.

JD:  You're no fan of the National Champ, Scotty?

SS:  Oh, don't get me wrong.  He's a heck of a wrestler.  It's his
attitude we don't care for.

MM:  That's right.  Reminds us of those no good Blonde Bombers.

SS:  He's got a lot in common with 'em, that's true.  Both talented
cheaters who rely on some loudmouth outside the ring to get 'em to the
next level.

[We fade ahead a few minutes into the match where we find Zeke and Jug
firing Vasquez into the ropes before taking him down to the mat with a
high double backdrop!]

JD:  DOWN TO THE MAT GOES VASQUEZ!!

MM:  Come on, Juan.  Take it to these turkeys.

JD:  Juan Vasquez needs to be very careful between now and Thanksgiving
night, guys.  Right now, he's got one last shot at the National Title
within his reach and he can't afford to do anything to cost him that
opportunity.

SS:   You know, that's exactly right, JD.  He needs to be one hundred
and ten percent going into SuperClash if he's gonna beat Scott,
Waterson, and rest of those jackals.

MM:  If they even show up.  I wouldn't show up and help Waterson if he
ran me down like he did Dufresne and Freeman last week, no sir.

JD:  Another good point.

[With Vasquez trying to recover, the Moonshiners ignore the referee's
count and take turns delivering clubbing forearm smashes across the head
of the rising Vasquez...

...and then switch to simultaneous double axehandle blows, raining them
down over and over and over across the back and neck of the Number One
contender.]

JD:  They're all over Juan Vasquez tonight!

SS:  Well, they should be, JD.  If the 'Shiners can beat these two big
names here in San Antone, they just might find themselves in a National
Tag Team Title match before you know it.

JD:  Speaking of which, you guys find yourselves out in the cold at
SuperClash.  The Blonde Bombers have landed that shot at the champions,
Rough N Ready, at the big event.  

MM:  You don't need to remind us of that, JD.  Those no good polecats
cheated us at Battle On The Bayou with the help of that Menace character
and now somehow the Championship Committee says they get the shot.  Go
figure.

SS:  That's right.  We don't like to question the Committee but I think
some of 'em might have been listening to too much Bob Marley when they
made that call if you catch my meaning.

JD:  I certainly do.

[The Moonshiners continue to hammer Juan Vasquez into the canvas, a move
that finally brings Marcus Broussard into the fray, fists a flyin'.  The
referee steps in, forcing him out...

...which allows Vasquez to be violently hurled over the top rope by both
'Shiners, sending him crashing down to the floor below!]

JD:  OHHH!  DOWN TO THE FLOOR GOES VASQUEZ!

[Out on the floor, Mange promptly pulls Vasquez up by the hair...

...and RAMS his skull into the ringpost, dropping him like a rock!]

JD:  Mange attacks Vasquez on the floor!  There's no call for that,
guys!  Absolutely no call for that!

MM:  Man, I tell ya I can't wait for the War Pigs to get a hold of these
jokers.

[Broussard quickly makes his way around the ring, chasing off Mange as
he kneels down over his partner and we fade to later in the match...

...where Vasquez is getting double whipped into the ropes again.]

JD:  Off the far side...

[A joined-hands double clothesline is easily ducked by Vasquez, allowing
him to bounce off the far ropes, leaving his feet, and catching each
'Shiner square on the jaw with a split-legged dropkick to a big cheer
from the crowd!]

SS:  Yeah!  That's the ticket, brother!  Get over there and make that
tag!

[A dazed Vasquez begins the crawl to the corner where a fired-up and
waiting Marcus Broussard is waiting...]

JD:  TAG!!

[The San Jose Shark charges into the ring to a big roar from the crowd. 
A barrage of punches on a surprised Zeke ends with him being hurled into
the ropes.]

JD:  Zeke off the ropes... boot to the gut... and now Broussard to the
ropes...

[A rebounding Broussard hooks a loose facelock, snapping Zeke down to
the mat with a swinging neckbreaker!]

JD:  Ohh!  That'll put that big man down!

[Popping back to his feet, Broussard charges the turned back of Jug,
leaping up to plant a knee squarely between the shoulderblades, a blow
that sends Jug over the ropes to the floor!]

MM:  Hook him, Shark!

[The San Jose Shark pauses, turning back towards Zeke who is trying to
struggle to his feet...

...and grabs him in a bearhug, popping the hips as he propels Zeke into
a twisting belly to belly suplex, driving him down to the canvas!]

JD:  BELLY TO BELLY!!  THAT'LL DO IT!!  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE-

[The crowd jeers wildly as Mange grabs the ankle of the official,
pulling him out to the floor...

...and catches both feet in the face from a suddenly baseball sliding
Juan Vasquez!]

JD:  DOWN GOES MANGE!!  

[Broussard pulls Zeke off the mat, hooking him for a suplex.  He hoists
the brawler into the air, dropping him down on the top rope.  The San
Jose Shark quickly turns so that Zeke's jaw is braced against his
shoulder...

...and DROPS straight down in an Ace Crusher!]

JD:  OHHHH!  He jacked his jaw on that one!

[The first AWA National Champion rolls Zeke to his back as he applies a
lateral press for one... two... but a returning Jug dives on top of the
pile, breaking up the pin attempt!]

JD:  So close!  If Jug hadn't made the save there, this one would be
over.

MM:  I'm gettin' fixed to get up there and stop this madness myself, JD.

JD:  Please stay right here, Marty.

[Jug pulls Broussard off his partner by the hair, blasting him with a
standing clothesline that knocks the Shark back into the corner.  A few
more standing clotheslines follow as Zeke gets back up off the mat.]

JD:  The Moonshiners on the attack - double whip by the brawlers...

[As Broussard rebounds, he gets turned inside out and dumped down to the
mat with a giant double boot to the jaw!]

JD:  OH MY GOD!  

MM:  Eeesh.  I'd hate eatin' that one.

JD:  That could be it right there!

[Zeke applies a lateral press as his partner stands lookout.]

JD:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE-

[The crowd cheers as Juan Vasquez slings himself back into the ring
using the bottom rope, breaking up the pin attempt!]

JD:  Another close call right there!

[Vasquez immediately gets to his feet, leaping straight up and popping a
surprised Jug in the back of the head with a kick!]

JD:  ENZUGIRI!  RIGHT ON TARGET!!

[With Jug dazed from the headkick, Vasquez grabs him by his wild blonde
hair and HURLS him over the ropes to the floor!]

JD:  Jug's outta there...

[Vasquez shakes Broussard hard, trying to revive his partner.]

JD:  He's got Broussard back up... what in the world are they doing now?

[The San Jose Shark and Vasquez work to get Zeke back to his feet. 
Broussard picks him up, setting him down on the top rope as Vasquez
heads to the adjacent corner.]

JD:  What are- Broussard's going for a superplex!

[Reaching the top rope, the San Jose Shark loops Zeke's arm across the
back of his neck as Vasquez steps up to the middle rope.  With a shout
to fall into rhythm, Broussard hoists Zeke up into the air as Vasquez
steps up top, springing backwards...]

JD:  MOONSAULT!

[The San Jose Shark brings Zeke CRASHING down to the canvas just before
Vasquez SMASHES down across the chest with a moonsault!]

JD:  OHHHHHH!

MM:  Good gravy!  I've never seen nothin' like that!

JD:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THREEEEEEEE!!!

"DING!  DING!  DING!"

[The crowd cheers an obviously exhausted and battered Juan Vasquez and
Marcus Broussard as they slowly get to their feet, raising their arms in
triumph.]

JD:  Juan Vasquez and Marcus Broussard score the win in this one but it
took EVERYTHING they had.  The Moonshiners really brought the fight to
these two men, gentlemen.

MM:  The 'Shiners proved their two tough hombres and when they finally
tussle with the Pigs, it's gonna be one heck of a throwdown.

SS:  But you gotta be impressed by Vasquez and Broussard too.  They just
put down a team that has been working together a long, long time.  It
took all they had in their games but they pulled it off.  Great match,
JD.

JD:  It certainly was.  And gentlemen, I'd like to thank you both once
again for helping me out here tonight.

MM:  Ain't no thang, JD.  Now, if you'll excuse us, we've got some
lovely young San Antonio ladies waiting for us back down the street at
the Hyatt!

SS:  Woooo, baby!

[And as Vasquez and Broussard celebrate, we fade to later in the show
where we find Jesse Ewiak in the ring, just before his first round
tournament match with the house mic in hand.]

JE: Don't worry, I'll make this quick. I realize you're used to guys
like Stevie Scott out here talking all night but I'll say what I need
and get this fight started up.

[Pause as Ewiak looks down for a moment, then out to the crowd.]

JE: Ya' know Rob, we're not that much different. We're both taller than
even the average wrestler, we're both older than a whole lot other damn
locker room, and we've both been out of the spotlight for a while.

[Beat.]

JE: Of course, some may argue if I was ever truly in the spotlight. But,
here's the thing. You think ya' deserve this title because you wrestled
for the LWC a decade back. Well, I'm here to tell ya' you don't deserve
a damn thing. I'm not going to be your stepping stone bub, so let's get
this thing going. It ain't gonna' be pretty, it won't have any planchas
or great chain wrestling, but you're about to see two big SOB's go after
each other like bulls for one last shot at gold. Hell, this just might
be fun.

[He tosses the mic back to the ring announcer as we fade to later in the
match...

...where Robert Donovan is laying a big time beating on him outside the
ring, smashing him with several haymakers before hurling him down the
aisle to the floor.]

JD:  Robert Donovan is taking the fight to Jesse Ewiak right now!  These
two men are battling to see who will move to the second round where
"Gentleman" Jack Holland is awaiting the winner.  Remember, Robert
Donovan entered himself into this tournament because he competed in the
Longhorn Wrestling Council many years ago and he wants to make sure the
legacy of that promotion is done proud with this title belt!

[In the aisle, Donovan pulls Ewiak off the floor, hooking him around the
head and neck...

...and BIEL THROWS HIM INTO THE RAILING!!]

JD:  OHHHHHH!  Well, if there was ever something to live up to the
legacy of the LWC, that was it!  The LWC was known for it's wild
brawling and Robert Donovan is bringing that to San Antonio right now at
this special live event!

[Pulling Ewiak off the floor again, Donovan drapes his throat over the
steel barricade, leaning his 345 pounds down on the back of the neck,
strangling the air of the Last Good Man as we fade to later in the show
where the action is back inside the ring.]

JD:  Ewiak is tearing into him with right hands!  He's fighting back,
trying to get back on track here for the first time in this match.  In
all honesty, Ewiak has had a hard time getting on track here in the AWA
at all!  He comes into this tournament with practically no momentum and
needs a good showing here tonight.

[With Donovan staggered and breathing heavily, Ewiak ducks in, scooping
the 345 pounder into the air...

...and somehow powering him up over his shoulder!]

JD:  HE'S GOT HIM UP!!  MY GOD, HOW DID HE-

[Ewiak lets loose a big roar as he stampedes out of the corner, DRIVING
Donovan down to the canvas with a running powerslam!]

JD:  OH MY GOD!!

[He pops to his feet, hitting the closest ropes to rebound back, leaping
high into the air to bury an elbow down into the heart of Donovan before
applying a quick cover.]

JD:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THR- DONOVAN KICKS OUT!!

[But the big man is visibly sucking wind as he rolls away from Ewiak,
right out on the ring apron as we fade to later in the match where the
two men are brawling on the floor once again.]

JD:  Donovan has brought this fight back outside the ring!

[The seven footer sneaks a knee into the midsection of the fiery Ewiak,
stopping his offensive flurry short.  He seizes the opportunity to grab
Ewiak by the wrist...

...and YANKS him into a short-arm clothesline!]

JD:  Donovan floors him with the short-arm clothesline and-

[The big man promptly leaps into the air, dropping a leg across the
chest of the downed Ewiak!]

JD:  Good grief!  A legdrop out on the floor!

[Donovan rolls off Ewiak, wincing as he clutches his tailbone in pain. 
He shakes his head as he pulls Ewiak off the mat, shoving him under the
ropes into the ring as we fade to later in the match.]

JD:  Ewiak's on the attack!  Right hand!  Right hand!  Right hand!

[Using his momentum, Ewiak dashes to the ropes behind him, rebounding
off...

...and FLOORING Donovan with a massive spear tackle!]

JD:  HE SPEARS THE BIG MAN!!

[Ewiak pops up to his feet, throwing his arms apart with a triumphant
roar!]

JD:  Jesse Ewiak is fired up!  Look at him, fans!

[Seeing Donovan down and hurting, Ewiak points to the top rope.]

JD:  And this could be a mistake.  He hit the spear but didn't go for a
pin attempt.  Instead, he's heading outside to climb to the top rope and
very rarely does it turn out well for a 270 pounder to head up top!

[Ewiak steps up to the middle rope, nodding his head at the fans before
he goes the rest of the way up, looking down at a slowly rising Robert
Donovan...]

JD:  Donovan to a knee... now all the way up... EWIAK!!

[The Palm Bay, Florida native leaps from the top rope, arm
outstretched.]

JD:  FLYING CLOTHESLI- OHHHH!  HE MISSED!  HE MISSED!!

[Donovan, having narrowly avoided the top rope clothesline, staggers
over towards the downed Ewiak.  He reaches down, hooking a gutwrench...

...and deadlifts Ewiak off the mat, twisting him in the air, and DRIVING
him down to the canvas with a thunderous powerbomb!]

JD:  GUT!  WRENCH!  POWERBOMB!!

[Donovan drops down to a knee on the follow-through, slumping over into
a lateral press.]

JD:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THREE!!!!

"DING!  DING!  DING!"

[The aging big man slowly gets back to his feet, hands on hips as he
breathes heavily for a moment, looking down at Ewiak.  He gives a short
nod of what could possibly be respect before stepping over the ropes and
making his way back down the aisle as we fade back to the locker room
area where Mark Stegglet is standing with two men who look... happy?]

MS: I have with me, two men who exemplify just how important becoming
the first holder Longhorn Heritage title is...Jackson Haynes and Danny
Morton, Violence Unlimited!  Gentlemen, you two have the odd
circumstance of having to wrestle _each other_ in order to advance in
the Longhorn Heritage title tournament. Your thoughts going into
tonight's match?

DM: I...am...EXCITED, Mark Stegglet!

[He holds up his hand to Stegglet's face.]

DM: You see my hand? I'm...SHAKING with excitement! Literally shaking!

[Morton rubs his hands together with nervous anticipation.]

DM: This is like Christmas morning, an Easter Egg Hunt, and ten fist
fights with Tin Can Rust rolled into one! Little buddy, I couldn't be
any more ecstatic if Soup Bone Samson ran down here right now and
punched me in the face!

[With that, Morton proceeds to slap himself several times and scream an
enthusiastic "YEEEAHHHH!" Steggy seems to be more than a bit disturbed.]

MS: "Punched you in the face?" What does that even mean!?

[Suddenly, he's turned around by the massive paw of Jackson Haynes.]

JH: It MEANS, Stegglet...that we're always ready for a fight! It doesn't
matter who's standing across the ring, because we ain't ever gonna'
be...

[Haynes pauses and snorts, before holding his fingers and making air
quotes.]

JH: ..."conflicted" about beatin' the holy hell out of _anybody!_

[Haynes rubs the back of his head and grins.]

JH: Maybe a cowgirl boot-wearin' ballerina like Larry Doyle is shakin'
in his skirt at the thought of his "boys" wrasslin' each other. Maybe a
couple of poodle-walkin', twinkle-toed flower pickers like the Blonde
Bombers would be afraid that havin' to fight each other would affect
their "relationship." Maybe them Samoans would have second thoughts
about bashin' each others' brains in 'cause it'll hurt
someone's..."feelings."

[Haynes rolls his eyes and spits on the ground as Morton pulls the
microphone back towards him, cackling.]

DM: Not us!

[Without warning, Haynes hauls off and _chops_ Morton right in the
chest! Morton comes right back and chops Haynes right back! The two then
proceed to stand there and scream at each other for a few seconds before
Haynes pulls the microphone close to him.]

JH: You see this man??? Danny Morton is like a _brother_ to me! And I
don't care! I don't give a damn what might happen to him when we step
into the ring tonight! He doesn't care either! Son, I'll tell you right
now...we're gonna' kick the ever-lovin' crud outta' each other for that
title!

DM: And if we're willing to do that to each other...

[Morton chuckles.]

DM: ...just imagine what we're willing to do to everyone else!

[The two exchange a high-five before stalking off-camera, prepared to go
to war...with each other as we fade...

...to the ring where they're actually standing, staring each other in
the eye waiting for the bell.]

JD:  The final first round matchup of the night!  One of these two men
will move on to face The Masked Menace in the second round.  But just
who will it be?  We're about to find out as referee Mickey Meekly gives
the final instructions and-

[As the bell rings, the two men MELT DOWN in a barrage of punches,
chops, and elbows flying at one another!]

JD:  HOLY HELL!

[With the crowd roaring at the total slugfest, Danny Morton seems to get
an edge with a series of knife-edge chops coming dangerously close to
the throat.]

JD:  Look at the American Murder Machine lettin' 'em fly!  As many fans
know, I have an extensive collection of wrestling matches from Japan and
even as Americans, these two men are revered in the Land of the Rising
Sun as being two of the toughest individuals to ever step into a ring in
that country.  It is such a great privilege to be able to see them
compete here in the AWA!

[The near-three hundred pounder continues to tee off, battering Haynes
back into the corner.  Once in the buckles, Morton switches up, throwing
a right-handed chop and then blasting his partner with a right cross on
the way back across his body before hitting another chop.  The barrage
continues for several moments...

...before a wild-eyed Haynes just reaches out, grabbing his partner by
the ears, and flipping the advantage around, putting Morton back against
the buckles.  A stiff-fingered thrust into the throat leaves Morton
gasping for air, clutching the top rope.]

JD:  Ohh!  He caught him in the windpipe with that one!

[A few picture perfect right hands land on the skull of the man known as
Professor Pain before Haynes grabs the wrist, firing his partner from
corner to corner.  With a wild bellow, he marches across the ring,
blasting his own tag team partner with a brutal clothesline...

...to which Morton responds by stepping out of the corner, sticking his
tongue out and smacking himself in the chest repeatedly!]

JD:  Oh my god!  Danny Morton took a fierce clothesline from Jackson
Haynes and that crazy man didn't even feel it!

[Haynes responds with a knee to the gut, doubling up Morton.  He reaches
back, hooking him around the head and neck and taking him over with a
snap mare...

...and absolutely CREAMS him with a crossfacing forearm smash across the
cheekbone, knocking Morton flat on the mat!]

JD:  I'm guessing he felt that one!  Good grief!

[As Morton rolls around in pain on the mat, we fade to later in the
matchup as Haynes is hauling his partner up to his feet by the wrist. 
He yanks him closer and pops him with a right-armed clothesline,
knocking Morton down but keeping a grip on the left arm, hauling him
immediately back up for a second clothesline.]

JD:  A pair of short-arm clotheslines on the mark right there and it
looks like we might be seeing a trio of them... 

[Haynes goes for a third, Morton easily ducking it before hooking his
partner around the waist.]

JD:  WAISTLOCK!!

[The big man from Oklahoma hoists Haynes into the air, dumping him down
on the back of his head and neck with a high impact German suplex!]

JD:  GERMAN SUPLEX!!

[Morton rolls back to his feet, still holding the waistlock, and then
spins Haynes around into a bearhug before powering him up, throwing him
down to the mat with an overhead belly to belly!]

JD:  GOOD GRIEF!

[The 285 pounder measures his man, watching him slowly get up to his
feet...

...and charges towards him, leaping into the air to connect with a
running dropkick that sends Haynes sailing over the ropes and out to the
floor!]

JD:  OVER THE TOP GOES THE HAMMER!!  HE'S OUT TO THE FLOOR!!

[And without a hesitation, the American Murder Machine goes right out
after him, dropping off the apron next to him on the floor as we fade to
later in the matchup where we find Morton holding Haynes over his head. 
With a roar, he powers him up into a military press...]

JD:  Look at the power!  Danny Morton just military pressed a 310
pounder like it was absolutely nothing!

[Showing off his true power, Morton lowers him down, Haynes' stomach
touching the top of Morton's head...

...and pushes him RIGHT!  BACK!  UP!]

JD:  Sheer power and strength on display by Danny Morton!  He's pressing
him up and down like it's nothing and-

[Morton hurls him down to the mat with a big thud, smashing his fists
into his chest again as he shouts out to the crowd who responds with a
big roar.]

JD:  These fans are going wild for this matchup!  Violence Unlimited are
quickly becoming big fan favorites here in the AWA!

[Marching to the corner, Morton drops down into a three-point stance,
kicking his rear foot as he waits for his opponent to rise...

...and then charges across the ring as Haynes gets to his feet, ready to
smash home the shoulder tackle but Haynes deftly sidesteps, knowing it
was coming...]

JD:  He dodges the charge!

[And immediately straightens up and UNCORKS a brutal clothesline to the
back of Morton's head, knocking him flat!]

JD:  ENZUILARIATO!  MORTON GOES DOWN LIKE HE WAS HIT WITH A LOUISVILLE
SLUGGER!

[Haynes immediately dives upon his partner, only scoring a two count
before Morton fires a shoulder up and we fade to later in the match. 
Haynes has him outside the ring, blasting him with alternating rights
and left before snapping off a beautiful measured left hand that knocks
Morton off his feet and down to a knee.]

JD:  Now THAT'S a left hand!

[The Hammer hooks his partner in a front facelock, slamming his knee up
into the upper body.  A few more knees find the target before he hauls
him the rest of the way up in the facelock, shoving him under the ropes
into the ring.  Haynes rolls in as well, popping up to his feet where he
drags Morton to a vertical base as well.  A few haymakers find the mark,
knocking Morton back into the corner.]

JD:  Another whip!  

[Morton gets sent from corner to corner, crashing spinefirst into the
buckles.  With a whoop, Haynes dashes across the ring and lowers the
boom as he connects with a big, big boot to the jaw!]

JD:  OHHHHHHHHH!

[As Morton stumbles out towards him, Haynes buries a boot deep in the
midsection before stepping into a standing headscissors.]

JD:  Oh no... oh no, watch out for this!

[Haynes powers Morton all the way up into the air, pausing at the apex
for a moment...

...before nearly driving Morton THROUGH the mat with a powerbomb!]

JD:  POWERBOMB!!  THAT'S IT!!

[Haynes drops down on his partner, applying a lateral press.]

JD:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE- ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

[The crowd roars for Danny Morton as he kicks out at two, avoiding the
pinfall.  Haynes sits up, shaking his head with a goofy grin on his
face.  He rolls to his knees, throwing a few right hands at Morton
before dragging him off the mat.  He shoves him back into the corner,
kicking away at the lower body.]

JD:  Another whip across the ring... here comes the Hammer!

[Jackson Haynes marches across the ring and DRILLS Morton with a running
clothesline.  He promptly grabs the arm, hurling Morton across the ring
once again...

...and charges across the ring, connecting with another big
clothesline!]

JD:  TWO BIG CLOTHESLINES FROM CORNER TO CORNER!!

[Haynes drops back, throwing his arms back with a roar...

...and gets CREAMED as Morton throws himself out of the buckles with a
KING-SIZED LARIAT!]

JD:  GOOOOOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!!

[Morton dives across the downed Haynes, gesturing for the referee to
count.]

JD:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE- SHOULDER UP!!  SHOULDER UP!!  WHAT IN THE WORLD
DO THESE TWO MEN HAVE TO DO TO FINISH THE OTHER MAN OFF?!

[Morton quickly gets back to his feet, shaking his head as he pulls his
partner up by his dirty blond hair.  He dips down, scooping him up,
throwing him over his shoulder.]

JD:  Morton's got him up!  We could see an Oklahoma Stampede here!

[And that appears to be his intention as he dashes to one corner,
smashing Haynes' back into the buckles, spinning around to charge out to
the middle of the ring...]

JD:  POWERSLA- no!

[At the last moment, Haynes slips out the back door, landing on his feet
and rearing back his right hand.  Just as Morton turns around, Haynes
lets the right hand fly, thumb extended, and smashes it into the side of
Morton's throat!]

JD:  WHISKEY LULLABY!  THE ASIATIC SPIKE!

[Morton collapses, hands shooting up to his throat as Haynes dives atop
him, tightly hooking both legs.]

JD:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THREEEEEEE!!

"DING!  DING!  DING!"

JD:  Jackson Haynes, the Hammer, is your winner and he'll advanced to
the second round to take on The Masked Menace in what should a brutal,
physical matchup between those two men.

[And as Haynes helps his partner to his feet, the two men embrace in the
middle of the ring...

...when suddenly James J. Dallas and the Samoan Hit Squad emerge from
the locker room.  But these three men do not rush the ring to inflict
another beatdown.  Dallas smiles at the scene in the ring and slowly
applauds to the confusion of both Haynes and Morton as we fade to black.]