Stampede Cup - Night 2

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                           American Wrestling Alliance
                                 Proudly Presents
                  			  The Stampede Cup

               From the Crockett Coliseum in Dallas, Texas
                            December 26th, 2010
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[We fade up from black to the studio filled with monitors that has
become known as the AWA Control Center.  Jason Dane is standing in front
of the monitors.]

JD:  Hello everyone and welcome to Night Two of the Stampede Cup
tournament - the big event to find out exactly who is the best tag team
in the world today.  We started with sixteen teams - and tonight, we've
got seven teams left.  All battling to be the best in the world... all
battling for that huge silver cup... and all battling for one million
dollars.  Let's look at the brackets, shall we?

[The bracket appears in a graphic, taking Jason's place.]

JD:  Our second round will see Kentucky's Pride, the former National Tag
Team Champions, continue their comeback run agains the mighty Samoan Hit
Squad.  The international combination of Sultan Azam Sharif and Vladimir
Velikov taking on the #2 seed in the Fraternity Boys Bracket, Violence
Unlimited!  

Then, on the other side of the bracket, the current National Tag Team
Champions, Rough N Ready, are getting a bye to the semifinals thanks to
that thrilling time limit draw between The Aces and the Rockstar
Express.  Dave Cooper and Eric Matthew Somers are heading straight to
the semis where they will meet either the squad of Robert Donovan and
Brent Maverick or the P*WIN tag team champions who scored a surprising
victory last night over the Moonshiners, "Luscious" Landon Parker and
Slayer Morimoto.

So, we'll be seeing the second round, the semifinals, and the finals all
here tonight leading to the crowning of one of those seven teams as the
best tag team in the world.

But don't forget about the best wrestler in the world - Juan Vasquez -
who will be making his first National Title defense here tonight against
a randomly selected opponent.  Plus, we will also be speaking to Alex
Martinez as he reveals exactly why he has come to the AWA to begin with!
 

[The graphic disappears to reveal a grinning Dane once more.]

JD:  It's going to be an exciting night of action... now, let's head
down to Mark Stegglet who spoke with James J. Dallas and the Samoan Hit
Squad earlier today.

[We fade to the backstage area of the Crockett Coliseum where James J.
Dallas, white suit and all, is chomping on an unlit cigar as he stands
between the muscular Scola and the wild-eyed Mafu.  Mark Stegglet is
there as well.]

MS:  Thanks, Jason!  It's an exciting time to be backstage here in the
AWA.  Seven teams remaining, each with an equal chance to win this
tournament and to win a million dollars.  James J. Dallas, what would
you do with a million dollars?

[Dallas snorts.]

JJD:  You mean what would I do with ANOTHER million dollars?

[He cackles as Stegglet shakes his head.]

JJD:  Maybe add on a few rooms to my lovely estate?  Maybe pick up a few
automobiles for me and the boys here?

MS:  These two drive?

[Mafu barks in Stegglet's direction, grabbing him by the jacket.]

JJD:  Easy here, Mafu... the boy's not worth it.

[Mafu reluctantly releases Stegglet, allowing him to slink backwards.]

MS:  You need to save your energy for that ring tonight because you guys
are in there with former National Tag Team Champions!

JJD:  Former, my good friend.  Former.  And not just former champions...
former champions who suffer from the debilitatin' conditon.  One of 'em
is just plain old... and the other? 

[Dallas grins.]

JJD:  Well, the other is an old one-eyed Jack.

[He cackles at his own joke.]

MS:  You think that's funny?  You think it's funny what Calisto Dufresne
did to him over a year ago?

JJD:  No, I don't, Mark Stegglet.  I do not support the efforts Mr.
Dufresne if you please went to to put City Jack out of wrestling.

But what I DO support is my boys, Scola and Mafu, getting the job
finished here tonight.

You never shoulda come back, Jack.  Never.

[Dallas shakes his head.]

JJD:  Now my boys gotta prove it to ya.  Boys, we've got some money to
win.  Let's go.

[As the Samoans and their manager walk out of view, we crossfade to the
ring where both teams have already entered the squared circle.  The
Samoans are standing in the corner where Dallas has huddled them up and
is whispering something.  Across the ring, Tin Can Rust and City Jack
share a high five before Jack steps out to the apron.]

GM:  It looks like it'll be Tin Can Rust starting for Kentucky's
Pride... and the big man, Scola, coming in for the Samoans.

[As Mafu leaves the ring, Scola eyes Tin Can Rust from a few feet away. 
Rust has his fists balled up, ready for a fight...

...and Scola points right at City Jack.]

GM:  Scola wants City Jack!  He wants to get City Jack in there to start
this thing.

BW:  And I gotta think that's what James J. Dallas just told 'em to do. 
He wants to get the weak link of the Pride in there and go to town on
'em.

GM:  You think City Jack is the weak link?

BW:  With that eyepatch on his head?  Absolutely.

GM:  We understand that Jack's surgery was a huge success several months
ago, able to restore most of his vision in that eye.  However, his
doctors have asked him to wear that eyepatch as protection.

[Tin Can Rust waves off Scola, still ready to fight...

...but City Jack insists on tagging himself in, nudging Rust out to the
apron.]

GM:  Scola's got his man!  City Jack is going to be starting it off with
the Samoan big man.

[Jack marches out to the center of the ring...

...and shoves Scola in the chest with both hands!  He steps back,
slapping his own chest, and waving Scola on.  The big Samoan comes in as
the bell rings, throwing a big right hand that City Jack blocks!]

GM:  Jack blocks the right hand!

[Rearing back, the big Southerner throws one of his own... and
another... and another... and another...]

GM:  Series of right hands by City Jack!  He's got Scola wobbled!

[Jack backs off, spinning his hands around each other...

...and EATS a headbutt right by the injured eye that immediately drops
him to a knee!]

GM:  Ohh!  Scola drops him with a headbutt!

[Grabbing Jack's head, Scola measures him and CRUSHES the eye area with
a headbutt on target!]

GM:  Good grief!  Another big headbutt to the eye area!

BW:  And you know how hard the heads of these Samoans are!  City Jack's
comeback may be short-lived, daddy!

[The big Samoan grabs Jack around the neck, throwing City Jack back into
the buckles.  Squaring up, Scola slams a back elbow under the chin
before wrapping his hands around the throat of City Jack!]

GM:  Choke!  He's choking him!

[And as he breaks at four, City Jack slumps down to a knee in the corner
with the crowd jeering Scola as we fade to later in the match...

...where Mafu is battering City Jack in the corner with chops across the
chest.  The wild man grabs Jack by the hair, turning him towards the
buckles...]

GM:  Look out!

[Mafu SLAMS Jack's face into the turnbuckles, making sure the eyepatch
makes solid contact with the turnbuckle padding.]

GM:  Ohh!  Jack down to a knee again...

[Grabbing Jack by the head, Mafu leaps up and SMASHES home a headbutt to
the eye area, knocking Jack flat on his back on the canvas.  Mafu grabs
him by the ankle, dragging him away from the ropes...

...where he measures his man before leaping into the air, dropping
ANOTHER headbutt to the eye!]

GM:  Good grief!

[Mafu crawls into a press, barking something in Samoan to the official
who drops down to count.]

GM:  One!  Two!  No, just a two count.

[Mafu barks something at the official again before grabbing Jack's head,
cradling it in one arm as he batters the eyepatch area with the other
hand.  An angry Tin Can Rust tries to get in to make the save but the
official blocks his path, waving him off.]

GM:  Rust is showing some signs of concern now

BW:  Can you blame him?  He's seeing a million dollar flying out of his
hands.

GM:  That's not what the concern is about - not one bit.

BW:  When there's that much money on the line, that's ALWAYS what the
concern is about, daddy.

[With Rust being forced out, Mafu drags City Jack off the mat, pulling
him to the Samoans' corner where Scola is tagged back into the ring.]

GM:  The big man, Scola, back in now... double whip...

[The two Samoans hoist City Jack high into the air, dropping him
facefirst on the canvas!]

GM:  FLAPJACK!!  THEY PLANTED HIM!!

[Scola rolls City Jack to his back, applying a press.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  TH-

[Jack fires a shoulder off the mat to break the pin attempt as we fade
to later in the match...

...where Scola's got City Jack trapped in the corner, throwing shoulders
to the body.  As Scola straightens up, he winds up his right hand...]

GM:  OHH!

[The crowd roars as City Jack throws himself at Scola, popping him
upside the head with a forearm smash!]

GM:  Metropill!  Jack's fighting back!

[Scola slowly winds up again...

...and gets caught in his wind-up again with a Metropill on the jaw!]

GM:  Another big shot on target!  

[Suddenly, Jack grabs Scola, spinning his back into the corner where he
unleashes a barrage of Metropills to the jaw!]

GM:  He's rockin' Scola!  Forearm after forearm on the jaw!

[Spinning into a side headlock, Jack rushes out of the corner, leaping
into the air...

...and DRIVES Scola's face into the mat with a bulldog headlock!]

GM:  BULLDOG!!  BULLDOG!!

[A weary City Jack rolls away from Scola, heading towards his corner
while Scola does the same, moving towards Mafu.]

GM:  Both men are looking for a tag here!  Both men are trying to find a
way out of this ring!

[Scola's long arms pay dividends as he slaps the hand of a waiting Mafu
who quickly rushes in...]

GM:  TAG!

[The crowd ROARS as Tin Can Rust comes in, blocking a thrown blown by
Mafu and cracking him upside the jaw with one of his own!]

GM:  Rust nails Mafu!  Tin Can Rust is one of the hardest hitters in the
entire AWA!

[Grabbing Mafu by his wild hair, Rust throws fist after fist to the
face.  He spins to the corner, SLAMMING Mafu's face into the buckles...

...and Mafu snaps his head back, turning to glare at Rust.]

GM:  No effect!  His head hit the buckles but there was no effect!

[Rust throws another right hand, knocking Mafu back into the buckles. 
He grabs the wrist, firing Mafu across the ring, rushing after him and
connecting with a big running clothesline!]

GM:  CLOTHESLINE IN THE CORNER!

[Grabbing the arm, Rust drags Mafu out of the corner, firing him across
the ring...

...and catching him under the arm on the rebound, spinning around, and
DRIVING him down to the mat with a thunderous sidewalk slam!]

GM:  RUST PLANTS HIM!!

[Rust takes the mount, throwing heavy right hands to the skull as Scola
slips into the ring...

...and gets planted alongside his partner with another sidewalk slam!]

GM:  TIN CAN RUST HAS ROCKED THE SAMOANS!!

[Rust climbs to his feet, dragging Mafu with him, and slaps the hand of
City Jack who applies a bearhug on the wild-eyed Samoan...]

GM:  We've seen this before!

[Rust hits the ropes, bounding off them...

...and leaps up, connecting with a big lariat on the trapped Mafu as
City Jack bellyflops into a belly-to-belly slam, rolling through to hook
a leg.]

GM:  DARK AND BLOODY GROUND!  ONE!!  TWO!!  THREEEEE!!


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


GM:  Kentucky's Pride scores the win!  The former champs have defeated
the Samoans!  And they're moving on to the semifinals!

[Rust and Jack embrace to the cheers of the crowd as James J. Dallas
throws a fit at ringside and we fade back to the Control Center.]

JD:  A huge win there for Kentucky's Pride but don't forget the amount
of punishment that City Jack took during that one.  They may have won
the match but they've got a long way to go to win this tournament.  But
they're moving on to the second round where they will meet either
Violence Unlimited or the dastardly duo of Sultan Azam Sharif and
Vladimir Velikov.  Who will it be?  Let's find out!

[We fade from the Control Center to a shot of Jason Dane, standing by
with Violence Unlimited. Jackson Haynes is dressed in his typical brown
suede vest, red Confederate flag-style trunks, and a floppy,
tri-cornered cowboy hat. He seems pretty happy with himself, as an
amused smile frames his ugly mug. Morton is wearing a black boxer's robe
with the hood pulled down. He's standing there with his arms crossed
over his barrel-chest, with a smug look on his face. Dane seems slightly
intimidated, although the sight of a smiling Jackson Haynes would just
put anybody at unease.]

JD: Violence Unlimited, you were involved in one of the more physically
punishing matches of the Stampede Cup so far, as you pulled out a win
over PAIN! After triumphing over the two doctors, you face the daunting
task of winning three more matches tonight in order to capture the
Stampede Cup and one million dollars! Gentlemen...your thoughts?

[Haynes and Morton stand there stroking their chins for a second,
seemingly deep in thought.]

DM: Two doctors, huh?

[Morton frowns.]

DM: That means they were real geniuses, right? Went to medical school
and everything?

[Jason Dane rubs the back of his neck, still sore from the nerve hold
Ohno put on him the day before.]

JD: Yeah...Mal went to Northwestern, I hear.

[A smirk appears on the weather-beaten visage of Jackson Haynes.]

JH: Ya' hear that, Danny? Northwestern.

DM: A Big Ten school. [A chuckle.] It all makes sense now.

[The pair stand there for a brief moment, contemplating the significance
of that revelation...before bursting with laughter.]

JD: I don't see what's so funny.

JH: My GOD, Dane...he might as well have went to clown college, 'cause
that weren't no education! It's obvious they didn't teach him a damn
thing, 'cause there ain't no way a "college" [Air quote.] "educated"
[Air quote.] "wrassler" [Air quote.] would ever have been so reckless
with his health!

DM: But that's okay! Usually when we get through with the other team,
you've got people screaming for a doctor! But there was no need for that
this time, was there? Those two are more than capable of fixing their
wounds and mending those broken egos on their own!

[A hearty laugh.]

JD: It was an impressive victory over PAIN, but there is some concern
that you guys might be little worse for wear after that encounter.

[Haynes gives Dane the stink eye.]

JH: Are you tryin' to make me laugh, boy? It don't matter what kind of
beatin' we took, 'cause we always give as good as we get! There's been a
lot of talk 'bout how Rough n' Ready got themselves a bye, but if you
ask us, that's the best possible news we could've got!

[Dane seems confused.]

JD: Why would that even be GOOD news?

JH: 'Cause we WANT them two to be rested! We want'em at their best!
'Cause when we face'em, there ain't gonna' be an excuse...there ain't
gonna' be an explanation...there ain't gonna' be a SINGLE DAMN REASON
why those two got their butts handed to'em by Violence Unlimited!

[That draws a big cheer from the crowd. In the background, Morton raises
an arm into the air in acknowledgement.]

JD: Even so, you still have a very formidable line-up of teams to
contend within your own bracket before you can even think about a
possible showdown with Rough n' Ready, including the team you face in
mere moments, the team of Vladimir Velikov and Sultan Azam Sharif!

[The mere mention of the two despised foreigners lead to a smattering of
boos. Meanwhile, Haynes merely shakes his head.]

JH: Boy, what year is it?

JD: Uh...for another week, 2010.

JH: Thanks for the clarification, 'cause I coulda' swore you were
tellin' a proud AMERICAN, a proud SOUTHERN MAN [Pop!] that in this day
and age...that he should be worried about some damn Russians!

[Patriotism pop!]

JD: Well, Sharif is Iranian...

JH[Interrupting]: I know that, boy! And I'm from Tennessee! It don't
make a difference! The taste of my boot being shoved down your throat is
the same anywhere ya' go!

DM: That's right, Jack! It doesn't matter if you're nobility. It doesn't
matter if you've been invited to Buckingham Palace! Heck, I got VIP
tickets to the Fiesta Bowl!

Jealous?

[A big grin from Morton.]

DM: These guys like to talk a lot about their superiority. They like to
talk a lot about class and dignity. They talk a heck of a lot about
being treated with respect.

[Morton laughs and shakes his head.]

DM: Like you'll ever find that in a wrestling ring!

[Morton gives his biceps a flex.]

DM: You say that power recognizes power?

[A sly grin.]

DM: Well, then I'm saying that you guys are looking kinda' unfamiliar!

[POP!]

JH: We hear a lot outta' Bathwaite's half-breed mouth 'bout their
"noble" [Air quote] blood, like that means a damn thing to anybody.
There's just one thing anybody needs to know 'bout "noble" [Air quote]
blood, old man.

[Morton pops in his ugly mug.]

DM: It bleeds out just the same as anybody else's, fellas!

[Pop! If the fans weren't yelling for Velikov's and Sharif's blood
before, they sure are now.]

JH: Bottom line...it don't matter if you're a prince, a pauper or king
of the friggin' universe! We don't give a good damn if you're a commie,
an American, an Olympian or from planet freakin' Mars!

[Haynes tips his hat.]

JH: Violence Unlimited will whup ya' just the same!

[Fade out and then to the ring where all four men are already standing. 
Ivan Kostovich and Count Adrian Bathwaite are at ringside, huddled up in
a strategy session as Sultan Azam Sharif waves the Iranian flag...

...and gets DRILLED from behind for it by Danny Morton to the cheers of
the crowd!]

GM:  Haha!

BW:  You endorse that?  The man is showing support for his homeland and
this idiot Morton jumps him from behind!

[Making matters worse and driving Bathwaite to jump up on the apron,
Morton grabs the flag, ripping it off the flagpole...

...and hooks it around Sharif's throat, dragging him around the ring it
to even louder roars from the crowd!]

GM:  He's choking Sharif with the Iranian flag!  You love that flag so
much, Sultan, choke on it!  

BW:  What in the world is wrong with you?  This is awful!

[At the referee's orders, Morton releases the choke, throwing the flag
out to the floor.  He drags Sharif back to his feet, firing him into the
ropes...

...and knocking him flat with a running shoulder tackle!]

GM:  Oh yeah!

[Morton pulls Sharif up, pushing him back into the corner where he slaps
the hand of Jackson Haynes.]

GM:  In comes the Hammer!

[Haynes delivers clubbing forearm after forearm across the chest of
Sharif, knocking him down to a knee.  Haynes continues the assault, this
time smashing down elbows across the back of the neck.]

GM:  The Hammer is doing exactly that - hammering Sharif down to the mat
and-

[The crowd ROARS as Haynes pulls Sharif up to his feet, both hands
wrapped around his throat, and hoists him high into the air!]

GM:  He's choking Sharif!  Haynes is choking Sharif!

BW:  What's with these two choking this fine athlete from the Middle
East?

[The ref's count hits four when Sharif is sent sailing through the air,
crashing down to the canvas.  A pumped-up Haynes points a finger of
warning at Vladimir Velikov, waving him into the ring.  The Russian
shakes his head, dropping down to the floor to regroup with his other
three cohorts...

...which brings Haynes to lean through the ropes, grabbing Velikov and
Sharif by the head and SMASHING their skulls together!]

GM:  OHHHHH!

[The four rulebreakers go tumbling to the floor as the crowd roars for
Jackson Haynes who backs off, pacing back and forth across the ring as
he waits for someone to get back into the fight...

...and we fade to later in the match where Morton has Velikov in the
ring, hoisting him off the mat, and pressing him above his head!]

GM:  Oh my stars!  That's a three hundred pound man being pressed over
his head!  Danny Morton is an absolute BEAST, Bucky!

BW:  Professor Pain is one of the strongest men you'll encounter in a
wrestling ring.  Some of the things he's done in the past strengthwise
are the stuff of legends.

[Morton flings Velikov down to the canvas, beating his chest with his
fists as he paces towards the downed Velikov who is crawling across the
ring as we fade again...

...and find Morton barreling towards the corner where Velikov is
standing only to hit the buckles chestfirst as Sharif pulls his partner
out of the corner by the arm!]

GM:  Ohhh!

BW:  Brilliant!  You know, Sharif is catching on very quick to this tag
team stuff.  I believe this is only his second tag team match EVER,
Gordo.

GM:  Well, he's quickly learned how to cheat as a team.

BW:  Cheat?!  He was helping his partner!

GM:  Helping or not, it was blatantly illegal!

[Velikov slaps the hand of Sharif, bringing him into the match.  The
Iranian wrestler grabs the dazed Morton around the waist, hoisting him
high, and dropping him down on the back of his head with a belly-to-back
suplex!]

GM:  Ohh!  Big suplex by Sharif!  He dumped him on his head!

[Sharif pops up to his feet, laying in kick after kick to the ribs with
the horned boots.  He leaps up, burying a kneedrop into the ribs as well
as we fade once more...

...and end up deeper in the match where Sharif is using his boot to
choke Jackson Haynes down in the corner.]

GM:  One!  Two!  Three!  Four!  Fiv- he breaks just in time but the
referee needs to stay on him.

[Outside the ring, Count Adrian Bathwaite shouts some instructions that
Sharif nods at, dragging Haynes off the mat.  Sharif wraps his arms
around the torso, hoisting him into the air...

...and dumping him down to the mat with a gutwrench suplex before
applying a lateral press.]

GM:  Cover for one!  Two!  

[Haynes fires a shoulder off the mat at two, allowing Sharif to drag him
to the corner where he shoves him back to the buckles before slapping
the hand of Vladimir Velikov.]

GM:  In comes the big Russian...

[Each man grabs an arm on Haynes and HURLS him back into the buckles,
smashing his back hard.  Sharif exits the ring as Velikov drags Haynes
out, scooping him up...

...and dropping him across a bent knee in a backbreaker!]

GM:  Backbreaker!  Devastating!

[Velikov shoves Haynes off his knee, applying another press.]

GM:  One!!  Two!!  Th-

[The shoulder fires up again.  Velikov responds by battering Haynes with
right hands to the skull.  Grabbing his long hair, Velikov SMASHES the
back of the Hammer's head into the canvas before dragging him off the
mat.]

GM:  Irish whip... SICKL-

[Haynes ducks under the thrown clothesline, slamming on the brakes.  He
spins around and DRILLS Velikov in the back of the head with a
clothesline of his own!]

GM:  CLOTHESLINE TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD!!  DOWN GOES VELIKOV!!

[With both men crawling towards the corner, we cut a bit ahead into the
match...

...where Danny Morton is battering Sharif with a series of right hands,
pummeling him back into the corner.  Grabbing the arm, he fires Sharif
from corner to corner...]

GM:  Here comes Professor Pain!

[Sharif ducks down on the charge, driving his skull into the incoming
Morton's midsection.  He spins around, smashing Morton's face into the
buckles.  Leaning over, Sharif grabs the middle rope, and SLAMS his
shoulder into the lower back of Danny Morton!]

GM:  Ohh!  Shoulder to the lower back!

[Sharif drives a few more tackles into the kidneys before dragging
Morton out by the hair...

...and SLAMS a forearm into the lower back, knocking Morton down to his
knees.]

GM:  Down goes Morton... ohh!  Hard kick to the lower back!

[Grabbing Morton by the hair with both hands, Sharif drags him out to
the middle of the ring...]

GM:  He's calling for it!  He's going for the Camel Clutch!

[Sharif takes a wide stance, moving into position...

...when suddenly Jackson Haynes leans over the ropes, spitting squarely
in the face of Sharif!]

GM:  He spat on him!  He spat on Sharif!

[A furious proud Iranian stands in shocked horror and then marches over
towards Haynes...

...who throws a big haymaker to the jaw!]

GM:  Ohh!  What a right hand!

[Sharif stumbles back towards Morton...

...who pulls him into an inside cradle!]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE-

[Sharif just narrowly kicks out in time.  But he's also the first to his
feet, looking to grab Morton's legs...

...but Morton coils up, pushing off with his legs to send Sharif sailing
backwards where Velikov slaps the hand!]

GM:  IN COMES VELIKOV!!

[The powerful Russian sprints across the ring, arm outstretched...]

GM:  SICKLE!!

[But Morton ducks under, shoving Velikov towards the corner where
Jackson Haynes SLAMS his thumb into the side of Velikov's throat!]

GM:  OHH!  WHISKEY LULLABY!

[Velikov stumbles backwards into the waiting arms of Danny Morton who
hoists Velikov into the air and DRIVES him down on the back of his head
and neck!]

GM:  BAAAAAACKDROP DRIIIIIIVER!!

[Morton rolls on top of Velikov as the referee dives to count.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THREEEEEEEEE!

[The crowd ERUPTS as Jackson Haynes rushes in, making sure Sharif can't
do any further damager to his partner.  Haynes yanks Morton to his feet,
the two men celebrating their victory as we fade back to the Control
Center.]

JD:  Violence Unlimited with a victory to move on to the semifinals to
face the former National Tag Team Champions, Kentucky's Pride!  And what
a match that should be!  I can't wait for that one, fans!  Now, don't
forget - Rough N Ready, the current champs, have received a bye in the
second round thanks to that time limit draw between the Rockstar Express
and the Aces.  So, Dave Cooper and Eric Matthew Somers are moving on to
the semifinals.  But who will their opponents be?  Will it be the
veteran duo of Robert Donovan and Brent Maverick or will it be these
men, the P*WIN tag team champions?

[We fade towards an interview stage, where Mark Stegglet stands by with
the reigning P*WIN Tag Team Champions, "Luscious" Landon Parker and
Slayer Morimoto.  Parker is sporting his title belt around his waist,
clad in white trunks and white boots. Strapped around his right knee is
a tan soft brace.  He has curly black hair, a mustache, and a chest so
hairy that Tom Selleck would be proud.  Slayer Morimoto stares off into
the distance, his title belt strapped around his neck, as he wears a
black leg-length singlet with his first name down the left leg in red
text, along with red boots.]

MS: I am standing by with Landon Parker and Slayer Morimoto, who are
coming off a big upset against the Moonshiners to reach the
quarterfinals.

LP: Upset?  Upset, my boy?  Let me tell you somethin', Mike...

MS: Mark.

LP: ... right, okay Mike.  Let me tell you somethin', there ain't a
single man in the world that thought we were goin' to beat those
Moonshiners.  These hillbillies in this stinkpit called us the #7
seed... well, if that was the #2 seed, then the rest of these goofs
ain't got a chance against us!  We're the P*WIN Tag Team champs, daddy!

MS: With all due respect, your win wasn't exactly the most scrupulous...

LP: We won the dang match, didn't we?

MS: Well, yes, but...

LP: Then it don't matter how we won!  Let me make somethin' clear...
this man here?

[Parker points at Morimoto, who's eyes dart towards the camera.]

LP: He wants to hurt people.  He wants to hurt 'em real, real bad.  And
the only man he trusts in the world has the hottest bod in the lower
forty-eight.

[Parker runs his hand up his chest, a little hip swivel added for extra
sexiness.]

LP: So if you think me usin' a closed-fist punch is bad, I can just as
easy-peasy have ol' Slayer here throwin' chairs around?

MS: Closed-fist punch?  I beg your pardon, but we saw you using brass
knuckles.

[Parker gasps in surprise.]

LP: How _dare_ you!  How dare you accuse me of such developments?!  Why,
I've never heard of such deliberate bias in my life! Just because we
beat one of your teams, you've got to dirty up the blood, huh?  Well,
I'll tell you what, Mitch...

[Parker slaps Morimoto's chest, causing the half-Japanese Philadelphia
native to growl.]

LP: Just you wait until we take a million smackers to the bank and prove
that P*WIN is absolutely aces, daddy!  Let's go get those punks, Slayer
baby.

[Parker and Morimoto walk off screen, but Parker suddenly wheels back,
pointing at Stegglet.]

LP: And you watch your tongue there, Clark, or we're goin' to get on you
next, y'hear?

[And just like that, Parker exits the frame.  Fade to the ring where
Robert Donovan and Brent Maverick are waiting for their opponents to
arrive...

...and after a moment, arrive they do.  "Luscious" Landon Parker is
taunting the ringside fans as Slayer Morimoto appears with a wooden
chair hanging around his neck.]

GM:  That man right there is disturbing.

BW:  Morimoto?  He's a peach of a guy.  I had a lovely conversation with
him over some iced tea this morning.

GM:  I'm sure.  The man has a chair hanging around his neck, Bucky!

BW:  Well, that's true.

[Upon reaching the ring ropes, Morimoto pulls the chair off his neck...

...and SMASHES it down across the edge of the entrance ramp.  He swings
the chair a few more times, reducing it to splinters.  Still holding a
jagged piece of wood in his hand, Morimoto turns towards the ring, a
sick grin on his face.]

GM:  Get that thing away from him!

BW:  Morimoto's looking for a fight.  If he wins, fine.  But first and
foremost, he wants a fight.

GM:  He may very well want a fight and he may very well get one.  Robert
Donovan is no stranger to a brawl, Bucky.

BW:  The man used to think of himself as a king of hardcore... but this
king may have a challenger to the throne in front of him.

[Donovan points a finger at Morimoto who waves him forward with the
jagged piece of wood...

...and with a shrug, Robert Donovan obliges, stepping over the ropes to
face off with Morimoto!]

GM:  Here we go!  Here we go!

[Donovan throws a big right hand at Morimoto, forcing him to drop the
piece of wood.  Morimoto fires back, drilling the seven footer with a
haymaker.  Landon Parker backs away to the ropes, wanting no part of
that brawl...

...when Brent Maverick grabs him by the hair, yanking him over the ropes
into the ring!]

GM:  MAVERICK BRINGS IN PARKER!!  HE BRINGS HIM IN THE HARD WAY!!

[Parker hits the mat hard before Maverick yanks him back up, throwing a
big right hand that sends him sprawling backwards into the ropes.  With
the two brawlers trading blows outside the ring, Maverick grabs Parker
under the arm and around the neck...

...and HURLS him halfway across the ring and down to the mat!]

GM:  OHHH!  BIG THROW BY MAVERICK!!

[Parker recovers quickly, catching an incoming Maverick with a knee to
the gut.  He grabs Maverick by the hair, smashing his face into the top
turnbuckle!]

GM:  Ohh!  Parker caught him coming in...

[Grabbing Maverick around the waist, he hoists him up...

...and drops him tailbone-first across his knee, sending Maverick
crashing into the buckles again.]

GM:  Atomic drop by Parker... pulls him into a schoolboy... handful of
tights!

BW:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THR-

[Maverick kicks out in time, immediately complaining about the handful
of trunks...

...and getting caught with a hard right hand to the jaw in the process. 
The camera cuts to the floor where Robert Donovan grabs Morimoto by the
arm, HURLING him into the barricade with an Irish whip!]

GM:  Big Irish whip on the floor!  Donovan sent Morimoto crashing into
the steel!

[The seven footer approaches Morimoto on the floor, connecting with a
right hand that sends him flipping over the railing into the front row. 
A fired-up Donovan points to the ring to the roar of the crowd, climbing
up on the apron...

...and gets caught with a right hand by Parker!]

GM:  Landon Parker's trying to fight off both of these men and-

[The crowd roars as Donovan grabs Parker by the throat with his right
hand, calling for a chokeslam...

...but Parker goes to the eyes, grabbing the wrist and dropping down to
the mat to snap Donovan's arm over the top rope!]

GM:  Ohh!  Landon Parker is showing himself to be a very resourceful
competitor in this one, Bucky.  He went to the eyes... then he snapped
that arm down.  

BW:  And Donovan's on the floor grabbing his wrist.  Parker might have
taken the chokeslam right out of his arsenal.

[With Donovan clutching his wrist outside the ring, we fade to later in
the match...

...where Brent Maverick is standing on the middle rope, raining down
blows to the skull of Slayer Morimoto!]

GM:  Count 'em off, fans!


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


[Maverick hops down off the middle rope, grabbing the arm of Morimoto to
send him sailing across the ring.  With a whoop, Maverick follows it in,
leaping up to smash a forearm into the jaw!]

GM:  Ohh!  Big leaping forearm!

[As Morimoto staggers out of the corner, Maverick leans down, hoisting
him up across his shoulders...]

GM:  He's going for the Death Valley Driver!  The Acey Deucy!

[But Morimoto rakes the eyes, slipping out to his feet behind Maverick
where he promptly delivers a headbutt to the back of the skull, holding
onto a handful of hair.  He drags Maverick over near the ropes...

...and throws a big standing clothesline that takes Maverick over the
ropes to the floor!]

GM:  OHHHHHH!  ALL THE WAY DOWN TO THE FLOOR!!!

[A smiling Morimoto steps out to the apron, shouting at the ringside
fans as he backs all the way down towards the ringpost.]

GM:  Morimoto's setting up for something... keeping an eye on
Maverick...

[And as the Arizona native gets to his feet, Morimoto races forward,
throwing himself into a somersault...

...and wiping out Maverick with a flipping tackle!]

GM:  OHHHH!

BW:  Death-defying dive off the apron by Morimoto!  Brent Maverick got
taken out hard, Gordo!

GM:  Maverick is down... Morimoto is down as well though.

[From their respective corners, Robert Donovan and Landon Parker shout
encouragement to their partners as we fade to later in the match...

...and find Landon Parker stomping Brent Maverick's head into the mat.]

GM:  Parker's all over him!  Parker knows what a feather in the cap it
would be for he and Morimoto to knock off two superstars like Donovan
and Maverick.

[Dropping to his knees, Parker grabs two hands full of Maverick's hair
and rakes his face back and forth across the mat.]

GM:  Oh, come on!  Get in there, referee!

[Parker leans up, slapping the hand of Morimoto who rushes in, leaps up,
and DROPS his weight down in a kneedrop on the back of Maverick's head,
smashing his face into the mat!]

GM:  Morimoto rolls him to his back... one!  Two!  Thr-

[But Maverick edges a shoulder off the mat before the three count, just
narrowly breaking the count.  Morimoto drags him to his feet, shoving
him back to the corner where he throws a boot to the gut.]

GM:  Morimoto's got him cornered...

[A barrage of boots to the body chops him down to a seated position in
the corner.  Morimoto backs off, shouting at Robert Donovan...

...and sprints across, turning at the last moment to SLAM his
hindquarters into the face of Maverick!]

GM:  OHHHHHHH!  High impact shot right there!

[Grabbing Maverick's foot, Morimoto drags him out of the corner,
applying a press.]

GM:  ONE!  TWO!!  THRE-

[The crowd sighs with relief as Brent Maverick's shoulder pops up just
before the three count.  An angry Morimoto responds by battering
Maverick with right hands to the skull.  Climbing to his feet, Morimoto
hauls Maverick to the corner, shoving him back into the buckles where he
slaps the hand of Landon Parker who steps in, hooking a front facelock
to haul Maverick to the middle...

...and slowly turns him over before dropping down in a reverse
neckbreaker!]

GM:  Neckbreaker!  Nicely executed!

[Parker rolls into a lateral press, shouting "Count him, ref!" as he
does so.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE-

[The crowd gasps as Maverick just BARELY gets a shoulder up this time. 
Parker slams his arms into the mat in frustration as he backs off,
shaking his head...

...and then slaps his knee.]

GM:  He's going for the kneelift!  

BW:  If he hits it, it's over, daddy!

GM:  Maverick may not even know it's coming.  Donovan is SCREAMING at
him, telling him the kneelift is on deck but I don't know if Maverick's
head is clear enough to hear him.  I just don't know if he-

[Parker rushes the recovering Maverick, throwing a big kneelift that
Maverick avoids, going into a front roll...

...and slapping the hand of the waiting Donovan!  BIG CHEER!]

GM:  IN COMES DONOVAN!!

[The seven footer steps over the ropes...

...and immediately floors the charging Parker with a big clothesline!]

GM:  Down goes Parker!

[Morimoto steps in, taking his chance to charge Donovan from behind...

...and gets grabbed by the throat!]

GM:  Donovan hooks him!  HE LIFTS!!


"THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!"


[BIG CHEER!]

GM:  CHOKESLAM!!  HE CHOKESLAMMED MORIMOTO!!

[Turning back to Parker, he grabs the rising Parker around the torso in
a gutwrench...

...but Parker drops down to the mat, clinging to Donovan's leg.]

GM:  Parker's trying to save himself!  He's holding on for dear life!

[Donovan leans down again, trying to pull Parker's grip free...

...but Parker shoves him off, bumping him backwards into the official, a
minor collision that sends the ref turning away...]

GM:  Ohh!  Ref got-


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


GM:  LOW BLOW!  LOW BLOW BY PARKER!!

[Quickly getting to his feet, Parker winds up and CREAMS the doubled-up
Donovan with the Million Dollar Kneelift as the referee recovers!]

GM:  OHHHHH!  WHAT A SHOT!!!

[Parker dives across the chest of the downed Donovan, tightly cradling
both legs.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THREEEEEEE!!

[And Parker quickly rolls to the floor, not wanting any part of the
incoming Brent Maverick!]

GM:  Unbelievable!  The Cindarella story continues for Landon Parker and
Slayer Morimoto!  They're moving on to the semifinals!  

BW:  Where they'll face the National Tag Team Champions!

GM:  You're right, Bucky.  They've got Rough N Ready next!

[As Parker and Morimoto make their retreat up the entrance ramp, we fade
to the Control Center.]

JD:  The second round is in the books - the semifinals are set.  We've
got four teams remaining trying to win one million dollars.  Kentucky's
Pride, the former AWA National Tag Team Champions, teaming for the first
time in over a year.  Violence Unlimited, the hottest import from Japan
since the Honda, trying to show that their success overseas can happen
here in the States as well.  Rough N Ready, the current AWA National Tag
Team Champions and the odds-on-favorite here tonight, looking to show
the world that they truly ARE the best tag team in the world.  And
lastly, Landon Parker and Slayer Morimoto, the young upstarts from P*WIN
- the P*WIN Tag Team Champions - trying to prove they can hang with the
biggest dogs in the yard.  It's going to be something else but before we
get to that, we promised that this weekend would see Alex Martinez come
to the ring and explain to the entire world why he's come to the AWA...

Let's go down to the ring and find out together...

[We fade back to the interior of the Crockett Coliseum.  Gordon Myers is
already in the ring, microphone in hand, when the music starts.]

#Its all right...#

[There's a buzzing in the crowd, as eyes turn towards the entranceway.]

#Its all right...#

[The buzz begins to build into a roar.]

#Its all right, I'm just a...#

[And then the crowd gets..]

# A LITTLE CRAZY#

[The curtain is pulled to the side and out steps Alex Martinez.  The
seven foot tall, three hundred and fifty pound giant stands at the top
of the elevated entrance, head tilted back as he listens to the roar of
the crowd.  Martinez is dressed as he usually is, wearing a black
leather jacket that's been through as much hell as he has, as evidenced
by the tears, the bits of dried blood and the cracks along its black
surface.  There's a scar that runs diagonally across the length of his
face, the line of it broken only by the pair of black mirrored
sunglasses that cover his eyes. His long black hair is pulled back into
a tight ponytail.  Under his jacket he wears a black t-shirt with the
letters "LAB" written in gold across his chest.  His blue jeans are
faded, not because they're trendy designer jeans but because they're old
and well worn, as are his steel toed leather biker boots.  Black
fingerless gloves cover his hands.  Martinez walks slowly down the
aisle, pausing to soak in the screams and cheers of the crowd.  Making
his way to the ring, he throws one long leg over the top rope and then
the other, moving to the center of the ring, where Myers waits for him.]

GM:  Other people have said it, but let me just repeat it.  Alex
Martinez, welcome to the AWA.

[Huge pop from the crowd.]

GM:  I'll get right to it Mr. Martinez.  Everyone in the AWA has exactly
the same question.  And that's this.  Why are you here?

[Martinez reaches out, pulling the microphone upwards.]

AM:  Well, ya know somethin' Gordon Myers, I've been through a lot in my
career.  I've been just about every place that was worth goin', and I've
lived through a whole lotta hard times.

When I was first startin' out, I was in a lotta small places, livin' in
the shadow of a big place up in Portland.  I had to hear about how I
wasn't nearly as tough as some of the guys up there.  So I did my time,
paid my dues, and people started sayin' that I was the ultimate in
wrestling.

Then, some guy whose name I won't mention tore my arm outta my socket,
and stole the title that meant the world to me.   So I went to LA and
people started sayin' I was the best wrestler in the world.  Heck, I
even put one of them Portland guys through a wall.  You better believe
that felt good.

And then, a madman really did take everything from me.  My title, my
wife... my life.  In one moment, I lost everything that meant anything
to me.  And it broke me.  It made me into a parody of myself.

I stayed around for a few months, but I just wasn't the same.  And in
the end, and I'm ashamed to admit this, I quit.  I walked away from
everything.  And I was ready to stay gone.  That was gonna be the end of
Alex Martinez.

Then a friend came along, and pulled me back in.   And ya might call it
braggin', but I did a whole lot after I came back.  I terrorized a whole
lotta people, and I won a whole bunch of titles.   And somewhere along
the line? People weren't sayin' I was the ultimate, or even the best. 
People were usin' one word to describe me:

Legend.

[The crowd gets loud enough that Martinez has to pause for a moment.]

AM:  And I admit it, I was startin' to believe the hype.  I took to
callin' myself the one true legend of wrestlin', if ya can believe it.  
But the thing is, it started feelin' hollow to me.  I ain't the world's
deepest thinker, but eventually, I realized why.  To be a legend, ya
gotta be dead.  When you become a legend? That's just another way of
sayin' its all over.   And for the second time in my life, I started
givin' serious thought to walkin' away.  If I was a legend, if I had
achieved everythin' I set out to achieve?  Then all I was doin' now was
wastin' space.

Then Jim Watkins gave me a call, and I turned on my TV.  And what I saw
made me realize soemthin'.  See, there was a whole new generation that
cropped up when I wasn't payin' attention.

In the AWA, the new legends are bein' born.

[Another loud pop from the crowd.]

AM:  I realized somethin', as I saw these guys puttin' on the greatest
show I could imagine.  I realized that it wasn't over for me.  That,
lookin' at this new generation, there was still one thing I could
accomplish.   And its not winnin' titles, or gettin' into the Hall of
Fame. See, legends die.  But there's somethin' greater than a legend. 
Somethin' that never dies.

I could become Immortal.

[Bringing the microphone down, Gordon Myers interjects.]

GM:  The Immortal Alex Martinez... it does have a nice ring to it.

AM:  That's right, it does.

The AWA is where the future is gonna be written.  And I'm gonna be a
part of that future.  I ain't done yet, not by a longshot.  I won't be
done until I am immortal.  Until I've made sure that no one has
forgotten me.

So to that end, I've got a challenge I wanna lay out.  To a man who I
know will do his best at makin' sure I never get what I want. When ya
think about it, there's only one man who could.

And that's....

[But before Martinez can give out the identity of the man he's set to
challenge, a man steps out into the entranceway, microphone in hand.] 

??: MIGHTY ... Martinez, a moment? 

[Both Martinez and Myers stare as a hunched figure dressed all in black
approaches, hands outstretched with the manner of a supplicant. Wearing
a black vinyl trench coat, matching bodysuit, gloves and boots, his face
is covered by a gas mask. Somehow this stranger, a head shorter than
Martinez, has made his way past security, onto the interview stage and
acquired a microphone.] 

??: Maybe you should consider your actions? Maybe a mistake in the
making, your move to the AWA? A terrible ... terrible mistake?
 
[Martinez lifts his sunglasses, so that he can glare at the man
approaching him.]

AM: Mistake? The only mistake I'm makin' is by lettin' you come out and
interrupt me. I don't know who the hell you are, but this here is my
time, and I ain't a man given to patiently waitin' for someone else to
have their say. Especially on my time. 

You wanna walk away, right now. Before this gets ugly. 

[The implied threat seems to fall on deaf ears though as the masked man
does not budge.]

??: You misunderstand, Martinez, I bear you no malice for I am merely
the messenger. I am the Minion and I serve the Master.

[The big man looks puzzled, and cocks his head to the side.]

AM: What is this all about? Who's your Master? 

[Palms upturned, the Minion bends further, but twists his neck to look
up at Martinez. The glass lenses of the mask just barely let the viewer
see the outline of human eyes.]

Minion (??): He is the master of malice, of teeth and treachery. He has
long ascended the summit which you currently stand astride. Long has he
coveted the crown and to be known as the greatest that has yet lived. He
tires of your presence in the realm he considers his. Depart now to
escape his fury!

[Having had enough, Martinez reaches out, gripping this Minion by his
coat and pulls him forward. Unsure what else to do, Myers holds the
microphone in the small amount of space between Martinez and the
Minion.]

AM: Right now, he's just the master of gettin' me angry! You go back to
whatever hole you just crawled out of, and you tell your master that if
he wants to stop me, he'd better come out and do it himself. I ain't in
the habit of runnin' away, and I'm too old to change now. 

You wanna see fury? Then you try givin' me another threat!

[Martinez releases the Minion then, and pushes him backwards.]

AM: Go on now, get outta here. And tell your master I'll be waitin' for
him to grow a pair.

[Having staggered 5 paces back from the much larger Martinez, the Minion
puts his hands up to his mask, covering his lenses in affected terror.] 

Minion: No threats! No threats! Meat for the Master! Meat, Martinez!
Truly you bring it upon yourself, no threat from me, oh mangler of
messengers. Now your folly visits upon you visitations from many an old
friend! 

His first emissary shall arrive soon! This is punishment for your
misdeed. Heed well the message of violence he brings! Learn from it and
act accordingly! 

[Seeing death in Martinez' eyes, the Minion runs for his life, coat
flapping dramatically as he goes.  The camera focuses in on Martinez'
face, and he looks disturbed, Finally, Gordon Myers speaks.]

GM:  Well, Mr. Martinez, I'm not sure what to say, that was certainly
unique. But it sounds as if there's a man who absolutely does not want
you in the AWA.

[The troubled look gone, Martinez is now filled with resolve.]

AM:  Well, there ain't no one gonna run me out of this place.  I'm here,
and I'm here to do what I set out to do.  And if anyone doesn't like it?


Well, let them come and stop me.  

GM:  And what about this emissary?

AM:  Well Gordon, I ain't a hard man to find.  I'll be waiting.  And at
the end of the day? I'll be just what I said I was gonna be  Immortal. 
And anyone who stands in the way? Well, we all know how they end up. 

[The fans join in with Martinez]

AM:  BURNED!!!!!

[As 'Little Crazy' resumes playing, Martinez makes his exit and we
crossfade back to the Control Center.]

JD:  A very intriguing scenario just played out there with Alex
Martinez.  Someone appeared... that masked man calling himself the
Minion.. saying he serves a Master... a Master who does not want Alex
Martinez in the AWA.  But who is the Minion?  And a better question, who
is his Master?  I'm sure time will tell.  But right now, the answer to a
more pressing question awaits - who is the greatest tag team in
professional wrestling?  We are well on our way to finding out!  Let's
go back to the ring for the first match of the semifinals!

[We crossfade to the ring where the action has already begun and Jackson
Haynes is battering Tin Can Rust with heavy forearm smashes to the chest
in the ropes.  Doubling up Rust with a well-placed strike, Haynes
hammers him across the back of the neck with a forearm that knocks Rust
down to a knee.]

GM:  These two are some heavy hitters, Bucky.  

BW:  All four of them are, Gordo!

GM:  That's right.  I expect to see many a hard-thrown blow in this
semifinal showdown.  The winner of this one will be a win away from
making one million dollars tonight.  And a million dollars can change a
life in an instant.

BW:  How many seeing eye dogs does that buy City Jack?  Or how many
Justin Bieber posters does it get Jackson Haynes' brat of a daughter?

GM:  Who's Justin Bieber?

[And with that, we fade to later in the match where Jackson Haynes has
whipped Tin Can Rust across the ring...

...and connects with a rampaging running clothesline in the buckles!]

GM:  A big freight train of the Hammer comin' through!

[Grabbing the arm, Haynes whips him across again...

...and again connects with a big running clothesline!]

GM:  Two big running clotheslines on Tin Can Rust!

[And as Rust staggers out of the corner, he takes a big, measured left
hand between the eyes that knocks him flat.  Haynes quickly breaks away,
hitting the ropes, and leaps high, dropping a leg across the throat!]

GM:  Look at the height on that legdrop!

[Haynes rolls into a cover, getting a two count before Rust fires a
shoulder off the mat...

...and we fade deeper into the match where Haynes hits a big overhead
elbow smash between the eyes, knocking Rust down to his knees.  Haynes
grabs Rust by the head, pulling him into a standing headscissors.]

GM:  Look out now!

[The Hammer tries to power him up into a lift...

...but Rust drops to a knee, hanging onto Haynes' leg!]

GM:  Rust is fighting it!  He doesn't want to get picked up!

[Haynes breaks his grip, slamming forearms down on the back of Rust's
head and neck, trying to loosen his defenses.  He hooks a front
facelock, slamming his knee up into Rust's face a few times.  The knees
straighten up Rust, causing him to stumble back into the ropes...

...and a lunging clothesline attempt allows Rust to duck his head,
backdropping Haynes over the ropes and down to the floor!]

GM:  OHHHH!  DOWN TO THE FLOOR GOES HAYNES!!

[As Rust rolls to the floor to go after the Hammer, the footage fades to
later in the match where City Jack is out on the floor, trading blows
with Jackson Haynes.]

GM:  Jack and Haynes are fighting on the floor!

BW:  They need to keep an ear open to the ref.  If they both get counted
out, they're both out of this tournament, Gordo!

GM:  They certainly would be.

[Jack catches Haynes with a well-placed forearm to the ear before
grabbing his long hair and SMASHING the Hammer's face into the ring
apron!]

GM:  Ohh!  Facefirst to the apron!

[Jack grabs the dazed Haynes, scooping him up...

...and SLAMMING him down on the barely-padded floor!]

GM:  OHHHHH!  Good grief!

BW:  And I think we're seeing a bit more of a mean streak out of City
Jack since he came back, Gordo.  He knows that his stupid dancing and
prancing got him put on the shelf for over a year.  Maybe now he'll
actually go for a win when the chance is there.

[Jack rolls in as the referee moves to continue his count on Jackson
Haynes.]

GM:  The count is up to six... now seven...

[A dazed Haynes pulls himself off the floor using the ring apron, his
arm snaking around to grab at his lower back as the count hits eight...

...and he lunges under the ropes at the count of nine to the cheers of
the crowd just before a well-placed elbowdrop to the spine rattles him!]

GM:  Ohh!  Nice elbow by Jack!

[City Jack scrambles back to his feet, measures his man, and drops
another big elbow across the lower back.  The crowd roars as he repeats
the process, continuing to drop elbows, forcing Haynes back out to the
apron.]

GM:  A series of elbows puts Haynes out on the apron...

[Jack leans over the ropes, pulling Haynes to his feet by the hair.  The
former National Tag Team Champion hooks a front facelock, slinging
Haynes' arm over his neck...]

GM:  He's gonna bring the Hammer in the hard way!

[But Haynes throws a few blows to the ribs, breaking Jack's grip. 
Grabbing the arm from outside the ring, Haynes whips Jack into the
closest set of buckles!]

GM:  Ohh!  Nice counter from the apron by Jackson Haynes!

[Haynes steps up on the middle rope, reaching over the ropes...

...and catches a Metropill to the jaw that sends him sailing off the
ropes, CRASHING down to the floor in a heap!]

GM:  OHHHHHHHH!

[The camera zooms in on the laid out Haynes as we fade to later in the
match where both members of Kentucky's Pride are in the ring, whipping
Haynes across...

...and flooring him with a double running tackle before Tin Can Rust
applies a lateral press.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  TH-

[Haynes powers out, shoving Rust off of him...

...and immediately starts crawling across the ring, trying to make a
tag.]

GM:  Haynes wants the tag!  Morton's waiting for him!

[But Tin Can Rust cuts it off by grabbing Haynes by the ankle, dragging
him back to the middle of the ring...

...where Haynes rolls to his back, lashing out with an upkick that
catches Rust on the chin, knocking him back to his own corner.  Haynes
rolls back to his chest, getting his legs under him..]

GM:  TAG!

[The crowd ERUPTS as Danny Morton rushes in, stampeding across the ring,
and flooring Tin Can Rust with a clothesline!]

GM:  Down goes Rust!

[Morton spins around, drilling City Jack with a right hand that knocks
him down off the apron.  Morton spins around, smashing his chest with
his fists as he waits for Rust to get up, shoving him back into the
Kentucky's Pride corner where he blasts him across the chest with a
knife edge chop, then comes back the other way with a right hand...
chop, punch... chop, punch... chop, punch...]

GM:  He's got Rust in the corner and he's rockin' him!

[City Jack gets back up on the apron, throwing a right hand to the jaw
of Danny Morton who staggers back...

...and Jack tags himself in, charging Morton!]

GM:  CLOTHESLI-

[...into the waiting arms of Danny Morton who powers City Jack into the
air, pivots, and DRIVES him down with a powerslam!]

GM:  POWERSLAM!!  POWERSLAM!!  

[Morton applies the lateral press, reaching back to hook a leg.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE-

[Jack fires a shoulder off the mat, narrowly breaking up the pin!]

GM:  Ohhh!  So close!  Danny Morton was a half count away from winning
this thing!  Danny Morton almost sent his team to the semifinals right
there!

[Nodding to the roaring crowd, Morton retakes his feet, pulling Jack up
by the trunks...

...and wraps his arms around the waist.]

GM:  He's going for the Backdrop Driver!  He's got it locked and-

[Jack secures a side headlock, driving clenched fists into the skull of
Morton, breaking his grip...

...and a HARD Metropill connects, sending Morton sailing backwards!]

GM:  Down goes Morton off the forearm smash and-

[The crowd roars as Jack backs into the ropes, bouncing off, and
BELLYFLOPS onto the downed Morton!]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THR-

[A big mixed reaction comes up as Jackson Haynes lunges across the ring,
smashing Jack with a forearm to the back, and breaking up the pin
attempt...

...and then Tin Can Rust rushes in, getting into a brawl with Jackson
Haynes that takes both men through the ropes and out onto the ramp where
they continue trading shots!]

GM:  We've got a full-on fight on our hands!  Haynes and Rust are
brawling on the apron!

[City Jack appears to be breathing heavy as he pulls Morton to his feet,
shoving him back into the corner.  He leans over, hands on his knees as
he gasps for air.]

GM:  City Jack, perhaps showing some signs of ring rust here, is
definitely fatigued.

BW:  WIth the size of his tank, you'd think he'd have plenty of gas
but...

GM:  Jack steps up to the middle rope... big right hand!

[The crowd roars as Jack starts raining down blows to the skull of
Morton in the corner...

...and then roars even louder as Danny Morton slips his arm between the
legs of Jack, lifting him off the middle rope and holding him across his
massive chest!]

GM:  My stars!  My stars in heaven!  He deadlifted City Jack off the
middle rope!

[Holding Jack high, Morton stampedes across the ring, SMASHING him into
the corner turnbuckles!]

GM:  OHHHH!  HARD TO THE CORNER!!!

[Spinning around, Morton charges across again, smashing the 324 pound
City Jack into another set of buckles!]

GM:  Danny Morton with a tremendous display of power!  How on earth is
he carrying a 324 pounder around the ring like that?

BW:  Not just carrying him, Gordo!  He's running with him! 

[Staggering out of the corner, struggling to keep the big man in the
air, Morton stumbles to the middle of the ring...

...and DRIVES City Jack down to the mat with a thunderous powerslam!]

GM:  OKLAHOMA STAMPEDE!!  

[Morton reaches back, hooking a leg.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!!  THREEEEEEE!!!


"DING!  DING!  DING"


[Morton rolls off of City Jack, throwing his arms up into the air in
triumph as Tin Can Rust and Jackson Haynes stop their fight on the ramp,
looking back into the ring.  Rust drops his head in disappointment as
Haynes pumps a fist, jumping back into the ring to help his partner to
his feet as we fade back to the Control Center.]

JD:  What a match!  A hard-fought match by two of the most popular teams
in the entire AWA and... wow.  Violence Unlimited, the #2 seed in the
Fraternity Boys Bracket, are heading to the Finals!  They are one win
away from a million dollars!  A big win for them... a tough loss for
Kentucky's Pride... but man oh man, Violence Unlimited are in the
finals.  But who will be facing them?  Let's find out right now!

[We crossfade back to the ring where Dave Cooper and Eric Matthew Somers
are handing their titles over to a ringside attendant as Landon Parker
and Slayer Morimoto converse in the corner...

...where Morimoto suddenly breaks away, sprinting across the ring, and
throws a double axehandle at the wide back of Eric Matthew Somers!]

BW:  He IS nuts!

[Somers spins around, glaring at Morimoto...

...and knocks him flat with a big right hand!]

GM:  Somers drilled him!

[Somers waves Morimoto up and nails him again, knocking him flat a
second time.  The half-Japanese madman from Philly climbs to his feet
again, rushing in...

...and getting floored a third time!]

GM:  This kid just keeps running into it!

[Seeing his partner going into a berzerker rage, Landon Parker shouts at
his man, trying to get him out of the ring...

...but Morimoto gets back up, charging in again, and getting another
haymaker on the jaw!  This time, Parker grabs his ankle, yanking him out
of the ring!]

GM:  Landon Parker may have just saved Slayer Morimoto from himself!

[Morimoto struggles against his own partner, trying to get in there to
get his hands on Somers...

...and the big man approaches the ropes, shouting at Morimoto, reaching
down over them.]

GM:  Somers is trying to get at him!  He's trying to- ohh!

[The crowd reacts as well as Landon Parker leaps up, grabbing Somers
around the head, and SNAPS his throat down on the top rope!]

GM:  Parker caught Somers!

[Parker shouts at Morimoto, shoving him back into the ring where the
brawler leaps up on the back of Somers, throwing forearms and fists to
the face of Somers, toppling him down to the mat where he continues to
batter him from every angle as we fade to later in the match...

...where Eric Matthew Somers is down on a knee in the corner, eating
boot after boot into the face by Morimoto!]

GM:  This crowd is in a hush, Bucky.

BW:  They can't believe that a 241 guy like Morimoto is having his way
with Eric Matthew Somers right now!  They're used to seeing Somers
throwing guys around, beating the tar out of 'em... but Morimoto is just
so wild and driven.  He wants to tear Somers apart and take his team to
the Finals!

GM:  You think he cares about the Finals?  I'm not even sure he knows
they're in a tournament!

[Morimoto drops down to a knee, wrapping his hands around the throat of
Somers, pushing the back of his head against the buckles as he screams
wildly.]

GM:  He's strangling Somers against the buckles!

[Breaking the choke at four, Morimoto lunges forward with a knee to the
face that knocks Somers down to a seated position in the corner.  He
plants his boot on the throat, clutching the top rope and screaming like
a madman!]

GM:  Those screams are unsettling, Bucky.  That's the sound of a
tortured soul.

[Again breaking at four, Morimoto drags Somers off the mat, pulling him
to the corner where he slaps the hand of Landon Parker.  Morimoto pulls
Somers' arms behind him as Parker scales the ropes...

...but Somers breaks free with a well-placed headbutt smash to the
nose!]

GM:  Somers is loose!  Look out!

[The big man stalks forward, reaching up to grab Parker...

...and HURLS him off the top rope, sending him crashing down to the
canvas!]

GM:  OHHHHH!  DOWN GOES PARKER!!

[A tired Somers drops down to a knee, weary from the exertion of the big
slam off the ropes.  Across the ring, Dave Cooper is shouting at his
partner, slapping his hand against the top turnbuckle, trying to root
him to the corner.  Landon Parker actually manages to get to his feet
before Somers... 

...and gets the crowd buzzing as he slaps his knee three times,
measuring Somers.]

GM:  He's calling for the kneelift!  That's how they got to the semis!

[Somers pushes up to a knee, shaking his head to try and clear the
cobwebs....]

GM:  Somers doesn't see him!  Somers doesn't know it's coming!

[As the big man gets to his feet, Parker rushes forward, cocking the
kneelift back...

...but as he swings it up, Somers spins away from it, hooking a side
waistlock, and DROPPING Parker on the back of the head with a belly to
back suplex!]

GM:  HE COUNTERED!!  SOMERS WITH THE COUNTER!!

[The big man crawls across the ring, looking to get to the corner where
Dave Cooper awaits him, ready and waiting...

...and the big man slaps the hand!]

GM:  In comes Cooper!

[Dave Cooper rushes in, throwing right hands that backs Parker into the
ropes.  Grabbing the arm, he fires Parker across the ring...

...and flings him up and overhead with a big backdrop!]

GM:  Backdrop by Cooper!

[Cooper pops back up out of the backdrop, shouting a whoop of triumph as
he turns towards the incoming Morimoto and drills him with a forearm...
two forearms... three forearms...

...and then goes into a full spin, CRACKING Morimoto in the jaw with a
rolling elbow that knocks Morimoto over the ropes and out onto the
elevated platform!]

GM:  COOPER CLEARS OUT MORIMOTO!!

[As a dazed Parker gets back to his feet, Cooper fires him off the ropes
again...

...and scoops him up on the rebounds, pivoting, and DRIVING Parker to
the canvas with a spinebuster!]

GM:  SPINEBUSTER!  SPINEBUSTER!!

[Grabbing the legs of Parker, Cooper folds them over, and turns his
victim over into a Texas Cloverleaf!]

GM:  Texas Cloverleaf is on!  He's sitting back on it!  Parker's
screaming... begging... he needs help... he needs Morimoto back in
there!  He's trapped in the middle of the ring and-


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


GM:  HE GIVES UP!!

[Cooper releases the hold immediately, rising to his feet and looking
out at the crowd.  He moves to his partner's side, helping Somers back
into the squared circle.]

GM:  The National Tag Team Champions pick up the win... they're moving
on to the Finals.  And Violence Unlimited is waiting for them!

[We fade back to the Control Center where Jason Dane is standing.]

JD:  And then there were two.  Violence Unlimited.  Rough N Ready.  Who
will be the best tag team in the world?  And who will win one million
dollars?  That's a question for a little while from now.  But before
that, just who will Juan Vasquez face in his first defense of the AWA
National Title?  Fate will decide.  Let's see who fate selected...

[We crossfade back inside the Crockett Coliseum where Juan Vasquez,
ready for battle, is pacing back and forth, eyeing the ten men who've
been brought out to ringside all around him:  Adrian Freeman, Anton
Layton, "Gentleman" Jack Holland, James Monosso, Supernova, Sweet Daddy
Williams, Johnny Sone, Eric Preston, Ron Houston, and Nenshou.]

GM:  You can see the ten men at ringside - their names in a hat... but
who will be the man to get the shot at the National Title?  We're about
to find out.  The referee and the ring announcer are making the drawing
now...

[Phil Watson reads the card, nodding to the official, and raises the
mic.]

PW:  And now... the challenger...

[Watson pauses dramatically...

...and then points to the floor!]

PW:  AAAAAADRIAN FREEEEEEMAN!

[The Australian rulebreaker smirks at the announcement, nodding his head
as he climbs up on the apron.  He points a finger at Vasquez, doing the
"I want the belt" gesture before climbing through the ropes as we fade
ahead to later in the match...

...where Freeman has Vasquez doubled up in the corner, smashing overhead
elbows down on the neck.]

GM:  And would it be like for Adrian Freeman, Bucky?  What would it be
like for him to go for the unsung member of the Southern Syndicate to
the National Champion?

BW:  Better question - after what we saw last night, how long would it
take for Calisto Dufresne to cash in his "Anywhere, Anytime" title shot
on Freeman?

GM:  It's a good point.  Juan Vasquez is certainly now in a unique
position for him.  For so many months here in the AWA, Juan Vasquez was
the hunter.  Now, he most certainly is the hunted.  You mentioned
Dufresne and his guaranteed title shot.  One month ago, MAMMOTH Mizusawa
won a title shot as well.  Those are two major contenders towards the
National Title and Juan Vasquez has got to be looking over his shoulder
at all times.

BW:  And not that I want to see it but I believe Vasquez and Marcus
Broussard had a deal as well.  Whoever won the title would give the
other a shot at it.  Between Broussard, Dufresne, and Mizusawa, Juan
Vasquez is facing a Murder's Row of top challengers.

GM:  And that's not even counting Adrian Freeman who is working over the
champ in the corner right now.

[Grabbing Vasquez by the arm, Freeman fires him across the ring,
charging in after him...

...but Vasquez grabs the top rope on approach, kicking his legs up,
twisting, and taking the charging Freeman down in a sunset flip!]

GM:  SUNSET FLIP FOR ONE!!  TWO!! 

[Freeman kicks out of the pin attempt, popping up to his feet just as
Vasquez does the same...

...and takes the Australian over with a hiptoss!]

GM:  Hiptoss!

[Vasquez promptly leaps up into the air, aiming to drop his weight down
on the chest of Freeman...]

GM:  BACKSPLA- OHHHH!

[The crowd groans as Adrian Freeman knows the senton is coming, raising
his knees in time to cause Vasquez to crash backfirst down across them.]

GM:  A great counter by Freeman... and now Vasquez finds himself in
trouble...

[We crossfade to later in the match...

...where Freeman is stomping the lower back of Vasquez.  The rulebreaker
leaps up, dropping a knee down in the kidneys.  Keeping the knee in
place, he grabs Vasquez by the hair, pulling back to wrench the lower
back a little bit more.]

GM:  Freeman continues to work the back and you know that in the back of
his mind, he's thinking about the Deep Freeze.  He's gotta be thinking
about locking in that Boston Crab and forcing a submission out of the
National Champion.

BW:  Of course he is.  He knows how important that National Title is...
and he knows there may be a bit of letdown psychologically for Vasquez. 
He accomplished his goal... now he might be vulnerable.  It wouldn't be
the first time that Vasquez lost the title in his first defense, Gordo.

GM:  You had to mention that.

[Pulling Vasquez off the mat, Freeman hooks him for a suplex...

...and gets pulled down in an inside cradle!]

GM:  CRADLE!  ONE!!  TWO!!  THR-

[Freeman kicks out at two, scrambling to his feet, and burying the point
of his elbow into the lower back of Vasquez.  He promptly hooks a half
nelson, lifting Vasquez up and dropping him across his knee in a quick
motion.]

GM:  Ohhh!  That'll take some of the wind out of Vasquez' sails!

[With Vasquez down, wincing in pain as he reaches an arm behind him to
grab at his back, Freeman approaches the feet of his downed victim...]

GM:  He's going for it!  He's going for the Deep Freeze right now!

[Leaning down, Freeman grabs the legs of his opponent under his
armpits.]

GM:  He's trying to lock it on...

BW:  Vasquez is fighting it!  He's trying to get free!

[Wriggling a leg loose, Vasquez lashes out with an upkick that catches
Freeman on the jaw, knocking him back to the corner.  The National
Champion scrambles up as Freeman stumbles forward...]


"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"


GM:  OHHH!  RIGHT CROSS!!!

[The dazed Freeman falls forward over the shoulder of Vasquez who slings
him back, reaching back with his free hand to cradle the head before
charging to the middle of the ring, leaping into the air...

...and DRIVING the back of Freeman's head into the mat!]

GM:  CITY OF ANGELS!!  CITY OF ANGELS!!

[Vasquez rolls into a lateral press, hooking the leg.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THREEEEEEE!!!

[The National Champion rises to his feet as the bell rings, grabbing his
back with one hand and accepting his title belt with the other.  He
holds the belt high in the air, soaking up the cheers of the crowd as we
crossfade back to the Control Center.]

JD:  Juan Vasquez is successful in his first title defense here tonight
in Dallas, defeating Adrian Freeman with the City of Angels... a nice
win for him.  But now... the moment we're all here for... the Stampede
Cup Finals.  Two teams... four men... one million dollars and the right
to call yourself the best tag team in the world.  One of these teams is
the AWA National Tag Team Champions but for one night, that doesn't mean
a thing.  This isn't a title match... but there's so much at stake...
let's go down to the ring for all the highlights...

[We crossfade to the ring where the ring announcer has just finished the
announcements, leaving Dave Cooper and Eric Matthew Somers to glare
across the ring at Danny Morton and Jackson Haynes.  Cooper slaps
himself in the chest, pointing at Morton...

"We're the champs!  That makes US the best!"

Morton sneers, waving off Cooper as the two members of Violence
Unlimited back off to discuss strategy as the two champions do the
same.]

GM:  This is gonna be something else, Bucky.

BW:  I gotta admit.  I've been wanting to see these two teams go at it
for a while.

[After a moment, Eric Matthew Somers steps out to the apron, leaving
Dave Cooper in the ring with Danny Morton as Jackson Haynes steps
outside as well, pacing back and forth, waving his arms and driving the
crowd into an early frenzy.  Fade to later in the match...

...where Dave Cooper is kicking at the knee of Danny Morton in the
corner, trying to chop down the powerhouse.]

BW:  Well, that's a good way to take the man's power game out of the
picture, Gordo.  If he can't stand on two legs, he can't lift and throw
and slam people too much.

GM:  With the power of Danny Morton, I think he still might try.

[Reaching down to grab the leg, Cooper wraps it around the middle rope,
kicking the knee repeatedly.  Dropping down to the mat, he pulls at the
ankle, twisting the knee around the second rope...

...when suddenly Morton starts pummeling the back of Cooper's head,
breaking up the attack.  He frees his leg, stumbling forward to wrap his
mighty arms around Cooper's waist.]

GM:  Waistlock!

[The crowd gasps as Morton gets Cooper a small amount up into the
Backdrop Driver before Cooper rakes the eyes of Morton, breaking up the
attempt.]

GM:  Ohh!  Morton tried to end it right there!

BW:  Cooper went to the eyes!  I love it!

[Grabbing Morton by the head, Cooper pulls him forward, doubling him
up...

...and then SNAPS him backwards, the back of Morton's skull smashing
into the middle buckle!]

GM:  OHHH!

BW:  A veteran-style move there - always knowing where you are in the
ring and how to use the ring around you to your advantage.

[With Morton now seated in the corner, Cooper drives kick after kick
into the chest.  Reaching down, Cooper drags Morton off the mat, pulling
him out to the middle of the ring where he flings him into the Rough N
Ready corner, slapping the hand of Eric Matthew Somers.]

GM:  Uh oh!  In comes the big man!

[Somers strides all the way across the ring, glaring at Jackson Haynes
before spinning around, charging the corner...

...and CRUSHING Danny Morton into the buckles!]

GM:  AVALANCHE!!  AVALANCHE IN THE CORNER!!

[Somers steps back, shoving Morton out of the corner and down to the
canvas in a heap.  He slams a beefy arm into his chest, does the "we're
the champs" gesture in Haynes' direction, and then slow-walks to the
middle of the ring, leaping up...]

GM:  SPLAAAAASH!

[BIG CHEER!]

GM:  MORTON MOVED!  MORTON MOVED!!

[Danny Morton rolled out of the way of the splash attempt, causing Eric
Matthew Somers to crash chestfirst down to the canvas.  The American
Murder Machine crawls towards the corner where a whooping and hollering
Jackson Haynes stretches his arm as far as he physically can...

...and slapping the hand of his partner!  HUGE CHEER!] 

GM:  TAG!

[Haynes explodes into the ring like a fireball, swinging his arms around
wildly as Eric Matthew Somers staggers to his feet, clutching his
torso...

...and immediately gets three big boots to the body, doubling him up.  A
wild-eyed Haynes slams a forearm down across the back of the head of
Somers, trying to knock him off his feet.]

GM:  Haynes is hammering away on Somers!

[The crowd roars as Haynes hammers away with a right forearm, then a
left forearm, then both forearms, raining down blow after blow that
echoes throughout the Crockett Coliseum, knocking him down to the mat. 
He throws both arms back, letting loose a wild whoop that the crowd
echoes!]

GM:  Oh yeah!  Jackson Haynes takes him ALL!  THE WAY!  DOWN!

[With Somers down on the mat, Haynes rushes to the ropes, rebounding
off...

...and leaves his feet, leaping into the air to drop a big leg down
across the chest!]

GM:  High leaping legdrop!

[Rolling out of the legdrop, Haynes grabs a handful of Somers' hair and
batters him with right hands on the canvas.]

GM:  Haynes is beating the heck out of Somers!

[An angry Dave Cooper slips in, burying a kick between the
shoulderblades of Haynes, knocking him down to the mat.  Cooper
retreats, shouting at the referee to keep Haynes off his partner.]

BW:  He's got a point, Gordo.  Those closed fists were illegal.

GM:  I won't argue that.

[As both men recover on the mat, we fade to later in the match...

...where Somers is leaning in the corner, burying knees into the ribs of
a stunned Haynes.  He reaches up, slapping the hand of Dave Cooper who
slips into the ring, burying haymakers to the ribs of Haynes.  He throws
a knee of his own to the body before dragging Haynes out of the corner.]

GM:  Cooper's got him in the middle... 

[Cooper scoops him up off the mat, dropping him down in a backbreaker
across his knee before shoving him off into a lateral press.]

GM:  Cover for one!  For two!  But a two count only.

[A still-kneeling Cooper throws hammer fists down into the ribcage of
Haynes, battering the injured body part.  He slowly gets to his feet,
leaping up to drop a knee into the ribs.]

GM:  Cooper's going for the ribs... 

BW:  And you can see the difference between the champions and Violence
Unlimited.  The champs aim for a bodypart... Morton's knee... Haynes'
ribs.  VU wants to dump you on your head and get a knockout.

[Cooper digs his knee into the ribs, grinding it back and forth for a
moment before climbing to his feet.  He glares at Danny Morton who is
shouting encouragement to his partner...

...and then brutally punt-kicks Haynes in the ribs!  He points to Morton
after the kick, doing the belt gesture.  An irate Morton comes into the
ring, charging hard...

...but the referee steps in, blocking his path.]

GM:  Look at this!

[Without the benefit of a tag, Eric Matthew Somers climbs back into the
ring.  Cooper whips Haynes into the ropes, dropping to a knee as Somers
catches the rebounding Haynes, pressing him high into the air...

...and then DROPPING him down on Cooper's bent knee!]

GM:  OHHHHHHH!

[Somers exits the ring as Cooper rolls Haynes onto his back, applying a
lateral press.]

GM:  Cover for one!  For two!  For thr- shoulder up!  Shoulder up!

[Outside the ring, Danny Morton breathes a sigh of relief, running a
hand over his head as he shouts to the Hammer.  Cooper rises to his
feet, delivering a stomp to the ribs as he gets there and we fade ahead
into the match...

...where Eric Matthew Somers scoops Jackson Haynes up into the air,
slamming him down to the canvas.  He measures his man, lifting his arm
slowly, and buries an elbowdrop into the ribcage!]

GM:  Ohh!  350 pound elbowdrop!

[Somers rolls into a lateral press, putting all his weight on the
injured ribcage.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE-

[Haynes just barely gets out of the press, immediately grabbing his ribs
in pain.  Somers climbs to his feet, reaching down to haul Haynes up to
his feet...

...who surges forward, smashing his skull into the bridge of Somers'
nose!]

GM:  Ohh!  Headbutt!

[With Somers stunned, Haynes smashes him with an overhead elbowsmash!]

GM:  He's fighting back!  The Hammer's trying to get to his corner! 
He's trying to get to Professor Pain!

[Haynes throws a right hand... then a left... then a right... then a
left.  He grabs Somers by the head, rearing back with his left hand,
measuring his man...

...and BLASTS him between the eyes with it!]

GM:  Ohh!  That'll take down an elephant!

[It DOES knock Somers down to a knee as Haynes makes a move towards the
corner...

...but Somers hooks the back of his trunks, preventing the escape.]

GM:  Somers caught him!  He kept him back!

[Somers gets to his feet, pulling Haynes backwards into his arms, and
DROPS him in massive sideslam!  He again rolls into a lateral press,
scoring a two count before Haynes slips a shoulder free.]

GM:  Another near fall!  Two times in a row, the National Tag Team
Champions appeared to be on the verge of victory only to have Jackson
Haynes get a shoulder up in time!

[Somers drags him to his feet again, hurling him into the champions'
corner where Dave Cooper tags in.  The duo take turns delivering big
kicks to the ribs in the corner before Somers leans over, grabbing the
middle rope, and drives three big shoulders into the body.]

GM:  Wait a second!  Get him out of there!  

[The referee's trying to do exactly that, ordering Somers out of the
ring as he delivers one more shoulder tackle to the ribcage. 
Eventually, Somers does leave the ring as Cooper drags Haynes out to the
center of the ring.  He slings Haynes' arm over his neck, powering him
up...

...and DUMPS him facefirst with a gourdbuster!]

GM:  OHHHH!

[Cooper flips Haynes to his back, ordering a count as he hooks a leg.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE-

[BIG CHEER!]

GM:  MORTON MAKES THE SAVE!!  DANNY MORTON SAVED THE DAY RIGHT THERE!!

[Morton quickly exits the ring, the referee shouting at him as Cooper
angrily gets to his feet, pointing a finger of warning at Morton.  He
drags Haynes back to his feet, burying a knee in the ribs as they rise.]

GM:  Irish whip...

[Cooper sets, ready to drive Haynes down to the mat with a
spinebuster...

...but the Hammer grabs the top rope, refusing to rebound off.  An angry
Cooper charges him...]

GM:  COOOOOOP-


"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


[The crowd EXPLODES as a desperate Haynes drops his head, elevating
Cooper over the ropes and dumping him all the way down to the floor
below!]

GM:  HE SENDS COOPER TO THE FLOOR!!!

[Haynes collapses against the ropes, breathing heavily...

...and shoves himself off, staggering a few feet to his left and SLAPS
the hand of Danny Morton!]

GM:  TAG!!

[A fired-up Morton comes through the ropes, high-stepping as he runs in
place...

...and dashes to the far ropes, rebounding off...]

GM:  What the-?!  

[The crowd ERUPTS as Morton HURLS himself through the ropes, diving onto
Cooper and wiping him out!]

GM:  A SUICIDE DIVE THROUGH THE ROPES BY MORTON!!  GOOD GRIEF!!

[Morton pops up, letting loose a wild shout as he does so.  The crowd
echoes the roar as he leans down, dragging Cooper to his feet, and
hurling him under the ropes into the ring.]

GM:  Morton brings Cooper back in... he's back up on the apron, stepping
back in...

[And Eric Matthew Somers attempts to intervene, grabbing Morton by the
throat from outside the ring!]

GM:  He's got Morton by the throat!

[Morton wraps his arms around Somers' arm, blocking the chokeslam
lift...

...and tangling Somers up so that he can't escape from a barrage of
headbutts to the bridge of the nose that stuns the big man!  Morton
dashes away, hitting the ropes again...]

GM:  Off the far side...

[And Cooper steps in, hooking Morton around the upper thighs, rotating,
and DRIVING Morton into the canvas!]

GM:  SPINEBUSTER!!  SPINEBUSTER!!

[Cooper applies a quick press, tightly hooking the legs.]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THRE-

[Morton kicks out, just barely getting a shoulder up in time.  Cooper
slaps the canvas before getting up, angrily barking at the official as
he leans down to grab the legs.]

GM:  He's going for the Cloverleaf!

[And as he leans down to grab the legs, Morton reaches up, hooking the
head, and pulling him down into a cradle!  Jackson Haynes sprints into
the ring, diving to grab the legs of the incoming Somers!]

GM:  ONE!!  TWO!!  THREEEEEEEEE!


"DING!  DING!  DING!"


GM:  THEY DID IT!  THEY DID IT!  VIOLENCE UNLIMITED BEAT THE CHAMPS!

[The crowd ERUPTS as Haynes runs to his partner, embracing to the roars
of the Crockett Coliseum fans as they celebrate their victory.  The
referee raises their arms as the announcer makes it official, handing
the big silver cup into the waiting hands of Danny Morton!]

GM:  What a win!  What a match!  What a tournament!

BW:  What a year!

GM:  That's right!  This is the final night of the year for the AWA here
in 2010 and what a year it's been!  Fans, we're out of time but for all
of us here in the AWA, we wish you a Happy New Year and we'll see you in
2011!

[The camera holds on the ring with Morton and Haynes celebrating,
holding the silver Stampede Cup high in the sky...

...as we fade to black.]