Following one of the CSWA’s greatest milestones, the 500th edition of its signature PRIMETIME show, the league entered 2005 on a major upswing, with Stephen Thomas confident that the league’s financial woes were becoming a thing of the past, as was the name of his former co-owner, Chad Merritt. But the angle that was supposed to be on top became a disastrous shoot-gone-wrong, as Craig Miles and CSWA World Champion Shane Southern attacked Eddie Mayfield viciously. And the fire shooting out of the turnbuckle onto Mayfield didn’t help either. The fiasco led to television partner NCN optioning out of the final year of their deal with the CSWA, leaving the league with no television outlet.

As Thomas frantically worked his limited contacts to find another television deal, he got the news that his World Champion had been injured while working in the NFW, leading to his retirement. Thankfully, at nearly the same time, he signed a deal with former television partner U-62. Granted, it was a less lucrative contract by far, but it was enough to keep the league afloat, if it could get things back on track quickly. Thomas called the troops together, signed some quickie contracts, and announced a tournament… not just for the CSWA World Championship, but for a more vaunted relic, the retired UNIFIED World Heavyweight Title.

Unfortunately, bad news tends to come in threes. First the loss of TV, then the loss of a World Champion… and then, as PRIMETIME in San Diego was set to go live, the lights went dark. A technical glitch? Maybe, but a glitch doesn’t usually acknowledge individual names or give its philosophical views on change. The hacker was born. So far, he/she/it has been content to issue its comments here and there, and to point the way to certain clues like breadcrumbs on the way to… what? What does it want? And even though Thomas believes the hacker has been neutralized – do we really believe it?

From sixteen of the top names in the industry, they’ve been whittled down to four. Top wrestlers of their time from the CSWA, fWo, AWC, the defunct CWL and IWO, and more. Former UNIFIED Champions, CSWA World, fWo World, Immortals, CWL – they’ve held the top prizes in the world, only to be tossed to the wayside. Finally there were four. Dan Ryan – the man stripped of the CSWA World Title for no reason other than a returning owner wanting to demonstrate his power. ”Superstar” Vince Jacobs -- the cocky SOB who has conquered everything he’s ever set his mind to, set to make his run at the one title he needs to cement his legend. Troy Windham -- “The Epitome” has held the CSWA World Championship before, but with two more wins, he can eclipse his brother’s legend and prove that he’s truly as great as he thinks he is. Vacant -- the masked man who has vowed to bring down the CSWA. He’s not the first – but what better way to dominate a weak CSWA then to take its top prize?

The picture of the CSWA should be clear at the end of CSWA17. A UNIFIED Champion crowned, a top contender, a new Presidential Champion and a ranked challenger to the US Title, the end of the catfight between Teri and Ivy, and we can all hope that the Make-A-Wish kid gets stuck forever in the small cage thirty feet above the ring. But again, do any of us believe we’ll get what we hope for?

The “rebirth” of the CSWA has been staked on a series of tournaments setting up its ANNIVERSARY pay-per-view. The financial future of the league rests on the buyrate of the event. The creative future of the league rests on the winner of the UNIFIED Title, plus the winner of Teri/Ivy, and whether the league can hold and attract the type of talent it has in the past. But the long-term future rested squarely on the shoulders of Stephen Thomas. Can he forget his grudges against the missing Chad Merritt long enough to concentrate on the challenges ahead?

Raymond Sherman Cornette seesawed his shoulders, aptly flinging his powder blue sports jacket off his left arm. “Son of a bitch ripped my jacket,” he said, lifting the lips of a five-inch wide gash behind the coat’s left pocket. Ray peered through the opened hole to catch his charge, and new CSWA World Heavyweight Champion Charles Burrrows unstrap the title from his waist and lazily drop it at his bare, callused feet.

“This is useless to me now. Maybe, if Momma sowed,” Ray’s voice slowly faded as the absurdity of his suggestion hit home. Manual labor? He’d have a better chance at shooting Momma out of a cannon. “Chuck,” Cornette tossed the jacket to his right and safely over a fishhook nailed in the wall. It was that kind of night. “What in blazes are you doing?”

“Inhaling as much air as I can,” the new champion desperately countered as he sat on his bench locker. “My life just changed tonight, Raymond. I’m starting to realize that.”

Cornette dove to the floor, hastily scooping the World Belt back in his arms and began to refasten it around Wall’s mammoth waistline.

“On your feet. Now! I lost a good jacket tonight, Charles. You’re sleeping with this piece of shit until we can trade it in for a contract in Atlanta.”

Burrows collapsed to his knees, wearily eying Ray S. as he rose and allowed himself to be decorated. He needed a hot bath, and beer, in whichever order. The Boulevard Warriors had come as close as any tag team in the CSWA to beating the CS Express. Cornette thought the money was there, in a prolonged feud with Fiennes and Dandy, but Merritt was running out of bodies to throw at Hornet. In truth, Chad and Stephen were losing their grasp on being able to keep him. In two months, Hornet’s contract was up for renewal. Every wrestling magazine and dirt sheet were beginning to run features on the kid from Greensboro. The Carolina grad who turned his back on the law, and kept a regional promotion afloat on his shoulders. If Paul left, the league was finished. The booking for Saturday night’s First ANNIVERSARY show was a desperate grab, really. A stronger body to push the kid around in the ring, and shamefully, expose the weaknesses the lack of quality depth in the CSWA’s roster hid. If Wall were successful in ending the near yearlong reign, Merritt would have two months to analyze whether they had given birth to Paul’s successor.

“Stay in the moment, Raymond. Once. Just for me, stop with the mapping of the next five years of my life.”

“Hush up. I see over the mountains. It’s your job to run through them.” Cornette took a swig of Pepsi, then bent to kiss the World Belt. “That’s not real Gold, Chuck. It may take the color off your skin if left on too long, but if we play the right hand, it’ll lead to a fortune.”

“You think?”

“We’ll be out of this hell hole in six weeks. Off to a locker room it’s safe to piss in without fear of contracting illness or sexual disease.”

“Hey Ray,” former CSWA World Champion Joey Melton called out from across the room, “your Mom’s on LINE ONE. Just had a lovely chat, but I’m done with her now.”

The scattered bodies in the locker room broke out in uproarious laughter.

“Hey champ,” Cornette said meekly to his charge, “I gotta take this.”

Ray S. loosened his tie and began to make his way to the phone. “Savages! That woman’s a jewel any of you would be lucky to catch.”

“Be sure to tell Mommy night for us, Ray.”

“Shut up Parsons. You mook.”

Wall’s knees tapped and he found his way back to the bench, slipping off his ankle-length white trunks as he went. A bath was first then he’d drink himself shit-faced until morning. He held the World belt in his hands again staring at the nameplate that read “HORNET” and imagined what his father would say once he walked through the front door of his childhood home with it bearing his name instead.

Burrows grabbed a towel on his way to the shower, stopping at the locker of the man he just dethroned. “Hell of a match, Paul. Could’ve gone either way.”

Hornet took his bloodshot, green eyes off a speck of dirt on the cement floor and looked the new champion in the eye. “Could have. Congrats, Charles. I didn’t know what else to do out there.”

“Mah woman and I just bought a house because of you. Don’t drown yourself for too long.”

Paul smiled, bathing in the reassurance of his talent as Wall disappeared into the shower. He knew the day would come, but he’d sort of built up this fantasy of never losing the World Belt, retiring when he was forty and a millionaire a hundred times over. The reality is, Paul’s got a credit card payment past due, and a decision to make in eight weeks. Assuming there’s interest beyond Greensboro city lines.

Their paychecks were fattening, and lines for tickets starting to form. A year ago, refusing a day job as a lawyer seemed a horrible, misguided mistake. Damn, he was having fun though. The other shoe would drop soon, and lead Paul from this fantasy summer camp he was a staple of, and back to the real world where student loans waited to be paid off until he was fifty.

Was it time to grow up, or stop questioning whether physically and mentally testing yourself nightly was a bad idea? This is the career Paul wanted when he rolled out of bed this morning. If he were honest with himself, he’d see he wanted more now that his identity as the Franchise was stolen.

“Ladies, your attention please,” CSWA Co-owner Stephen Thomas bellowed from the depths of his black soul, as he and Merritt invaded the locker room. “Just got off the phone with Putsmear. U-62’s been picked up in sixteen more markets.”

Predictably, an enthusiastic response from the boys who remained from the night’s show followed, to a man breaking down how the news affected their next pay date.

“That a boys, Chad, and Steve.”

“Against our better judgment and business savvy, this ship still sails.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Chad steps in before a mutiny ensues, “we’re still gonna lose money this year, but Christmas bonuses may be in the works.”

“Wait…”

“Yes Joey.”

“We’re working Christmas again?”

“Ah.”

Grumble.

Kill.

Grumble.

“Sixteen new markets, as Steve said. The new stations come in on tomorrow afternoon’s broadcast.”

“We know we gave late notice about wanting to run shows back-to-back in the Auditorium. Some of you are booked elsewhere, that’s fine.”

“You’ve got a show to put together tomorrow, guys. I could be wrong, but you’ll need some of us to stay,” Melton said. “I’ll do it for double the coin I made tonight.”

“No, Joey that won’t be necessary. We’ve got to do what other promotions won’t on free television.”

“Drop a giant vat of poop on somebody?”

“No, Bill, but we’ll jot that one down for safe keeping.”

“Run a sixty-minute World Title match. Tomorrow’s show: Hornet and Wall for the Title.”

As Paul ripped the last strand of tape off his wrists and welcomed an anxiety attack, Charles brushed past Merritt and Thomas, a towel the only trace of modesty.

“What are they doing in here?” Burrows asked Hornet, “booking on national holidays again?”

It's the morning of CSWA17; the biggest day in STEVE RADDER's personal and professional life in some time, and what is he doing?

Sleeping in.

He's not preparing, not in the gym at least. He's still sleeping, which is surprising considering how difficult falling asleep was the night before in the first place. Then again, his return to the CSWA hasn't exactly been easy overall. Difficult and necessary at the same time, to prove to himself, the fans, and everyone in between, that he's the best. That his previous runs in the CSWA ...

And then the telephone rings, waking him from his sleep.

He's groggy, having just gone to sleep 2 hours ago after collapsing into bed after what can only be described as a beatdown at a pre-Ironman match. Thing is, as beatdown as Radder is, you should see the other guy. The phone rings again, and Radder slowly pulls himself out of bed to the phone, bruises covering his upper body and his face, though he's once again escaped any cutting that will lead to the scars like Randalls has.

He picks up the phone, forgetting to say anything.

"Hello? Hello?" The voice on the other end asks. Suddenly, Radder's eyes fly open. It's the social worker. Today's the day.

"YES! Sorry, uh, hello, Jane. I'm here," Radder responds.

"Mr. Radder, I'm calling to let you know I'm leaving from the office now." Jane's matter-of-fact tone angers Radder in some irrational way. Damnit, can't she hear how excited he is? How can she sound so ... bored?

"That's terrific," Radder replies. "I'll be ready." Of course he'll be ready. He's been ready for this longer than he's been ready for his World Title shot ... and he's been ready for that a long, long time.

"Excellent. I will see you in an hour, Mr. Radder."

Yeah, the longest hour of my life, he thinks, while hanging up the phone ...

"Hello? Hello?" Asks the voice on the other end. Radder, in his stupor, forgot to greet the caller.

"Yes. Hello. I'm here."

"Just giving you your wake-up call, Mr. Radder."

"Ah. Thanks. Aren't these ... uh ..."

"Automated? Normally. Good luck today."

"Thanks."

Even though I won't need luck, he thinks.

“Good morning, Floyd,” said Ivy, as the doorman at the CS Enterprises building opened the front up for her, “How’s your granddaughter doing?”

“Just fine, Ms. McGinnis,” replied Floyd, “Thank you for writing that letter to her for her birthday. You are her idol, it really meant a lot to her.”

Ivy patted Floyd on the stomach as she entered the building. “Any time, my friend… any time.”

She smiled at the receptionist and flashed her CS Enterprises’ ID card. To the left was the CSWA Hall of Fame and Auditorium, the larger parts of the complex and the only ones open to the general public. To the right was the pair of elevators that led to the twenty – seven story tall CS Enterprises corporate offices.

The Psycho Bitch sighed. This may be the last day she would be allowed to head to the right, except to clear out her office.

Her office. She was the first woman, despite how much larger Teri’s was, to have an office in the top five floors. Most people didn’t understand how the CSWA was run. CS Enterprises had their hand in a lot of the entertainment business: there were recording studios and animation production in the building, there was a chemicals research lab on seven and a publisher on twelve. Thanks to Ivy’s connections with Valerian’s Garden, CS Enterprises also included CSE Recordings, a steadily growing independent label.

But the top five floors were always, and would always, be dedicated to the CSWA.

Ivy pressed the button for ‘26’ – where her sparsely decorated office with the private bathroom was located. She had her routine all laid down in her mind, she would get some work done on the CSWA website, put her next column to bed, shower and get ready for the night. It wasn’t a typical Psycho Bitch night – no platform boots or miniskirts. Ivy had to fight tonight.

She had to fight Teri Melton, but it was still a fight.

Just as the door was closing, as Ivy was lost in her thoughts, a hand reached out and stopped them from closing. Another person stepped into the elevator, and Ivy looked up at a familiar face.

“Dubya,” she said.

“Green,” replied Mark Windham, as he pressed the button for ’27,’ “how’s things?”

“Fine,” replied Ivy, as her eyes returned to the lighted buttons, “and you? How’s the little one?”

“Thelma? She’s a character,” said Windham, “She misses you.”

Ivy smiled. She missed the little girl, too.

Mark sunk into the back wall of the elevator, the skin-worn knuckles on his right hand melting into his jean pocket; white bangs fanning over Mark’s eyes like venetian blinds, disguising a look he was hopeful of stealing from Ivy, but with her, nothing is unrequited. It’s been too long. Their relationship has always been as real as Skull Island. A map between them may exist, but between phantom glances, and sustained silences, Windham himself has questioned if it’s ever really held accountability.

His glaze cut through a pin-size opening in his hair and took Ivy in. She’s let him stare this long without an offensive attack.

She misses him too.

"You know, if you push'em all at once they're much more fun to stare at."

She smiled, like he'd hoped, but also remained silent.

"So this is it tonight, huh?" he asked.

"Yep," replied Ivy.

This was like pulling teeth. "Well, we're gonna miss you."

"Thanks."

Windham rolled his eyes and reached forward, hitting the 'ELEVATOR STOP' button. "So you're telling me, you can stand there, tell me you're done after today, and walk out the door tonight and not feel just the slightest twinge of guilt? Did Rudy get the emotional fare - thee - well? Did Sammy?"

Ivy looked at him, then looked away. "It's just... it's easier this way."

"Not for me," he countered sharply, expecting Ivy to have considered the full equation.

"You guys have more shows to do and more audiences to wow, Mark," continued Ivy, "Eli didn't want to do this match tonight, Thomas had to talk him into it. I didn't want to do this match tonight but Teri pushed me just a bit too far. There's a reason why I've tried to keep it quiet that I'm leaving, too... you spend too much time looking at people who are leaving and you forget about the people who are staying."

Windham shook his head. "Do you really believe that?"

"It's the truth."

"First off, Ivy, this business moves so fast that there'll be precious little choice - we're going to have to move forward. Secondly... you know I hate this shit. The ‘Team Extreme’ indifference. It’s our last night with the company we were raised in, let’s be as apathetic as we can. To hell with that Ivy. If Eli wants to waive the right for a cake send off, I don’t really care. He’s never been why I keep coming back."

“He has for me. And if you think it’s some kind of Team Extreme Indifferent posturing, you never really knew me.”

“Right,” Windham softly dismissed her with a wave. Ivy vs. Teri. That irony rear it’s head on her big night only serves her history well. She can’t see the contradiction. Men have thrown themselves at Teri’s feet since her inception. But, it’s Ivy the boys love. Mark’s found himself dead to rights, hopelessly in love with a weakness that’s carved up locker rooms from Greensboro to Seattle. You’re not tongue tied around Ivy Lillian McGinnis—comfort works wonders there—but tripping over heels for the ‘Psycho Bitch’ Poison Ivy has made The Lost Soul feel altogether pretty generic.

Who hasn’t crushed on the damn girl?

Who hasn’t watched her walk by three hours before a show in a staff t-shirt, shorts, her hair done the way it was when she woke up hours before, and close their eyes, letting just the smell of her linger in the air?

Who hasn’t confided in her at will?

In love with Poison Ivy: Take a number.

Foreign the idea’s not, but Windham’s done waiting. It’s been the slowest burn in history. Six years of crafting shelter around honesty, and looking the other way when Ivy says “please.”

Please, not now.

It’s never been right.

Maybe they were a fantasy conspired over drinks and bloodshed in Chapel Hill one night.

Maybe, Windham’s an idiot for not throwing everything away to be with her, the day after.

She woke up one morning in March in his bed, her glistening body lying carelessly over the covers; Ivy as naked as she’s ever let herself be to him. What kind of man doesn’t admit to her, he wants the freedom to see her, to touch her every night?

They’ve trained themselves to fall back into the alleys of their hearts retreating for fear of finding it was right. Maybe, enough time’s been wasted.

“You’re going to beat the crap out of Teri, Eli’s ending a chapter of his career with Paul to bed. It’s storybook, McGinnis. But, there’s a part that I read that I’m really having trouble digesting. It’s the part where you don’t even tell me you’re leaving.”

“Mark, it's easier to just walk away."

“From me? What are you afraid of Ivy? That I’ll become a bigger asshole than I already am? Rudy calls me and tells me you’re seriously walking. Pretend you’re me for a minute. What am I supposed to think?”

“You’re old enough to figure that out yourself.”

“And I have. Ivy, apparently this deep cough Thomas still wants to call the CSWA is the only way I can see you. God knows you don’t answer your phone.”

“I’m glad you’re back, Mark. This place needs you. It always will. I don’t know what your motives are for climbing into the match, but, it’s easier for me if I don’t care.”

She hit the button for the elevator to start moving again. When it stopped on 26, she quietly exited. Mark grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

“Ivy, I’m in love with you,” said Mark, "Before you leave, I wanted you to hear that again. It’s a little bit of information that’s kept me going the last six years. I know we’ve fashioned ourselves to bury what we really feel, but if this is goodbye, McGinnis, and you think you’re walking out of here without dealing with me, then I’ll invite Sean here and tell the both of you. You’re mine, and you will be for longer than a night in Sweetwater that we’ve both run from. You’ve got a shadow now Ivy that won’t be easily left."

Ivy's face brightened just a bit as the door closed between them, and Mark leaned back against the far wall, exhaling sharply.

(FADEIN: CSWA owner Stephen Thomas at a contemporary desk in his penthouse office in the CS Enterprises HQ building.)

What, you were expecting someone else?

CSWA17.

What does that mean to you?

It means everything to me. A year ago I came back from the dead, riding triumphly over the body of the man who cast me away like a pair of blue jeans that were tore at a knee, or a sweater he'd become too big for.

To Chad Merritt, I know we've made an amusing habit of censoring your name here. Hell, I had it torched off the marquee. This was never your Auditorium; it was ours. Matter of fact, all of it was ours. But, you forced my hand. You threw the penny in the wishing well and sent me to an Island because you pined for breathing room.

I know you never thought I'd make it here, that I could pilot the CSWA through a calendar year, and back home to celebrate it's seventeenth ANNIVERSARY.

What was it you said last year to your detractors?

Screw you?

How do you like the fact that you can't even buy a ticket into the house you helped build?

(CUTTO: A camera shot of the end of the CSWA Hall of Fame as it leads into the concourse of Merr— CSWA Auditorium. The camera shot is slightly unsteady; it’s obvious that it isn’t in the hands of a professional. The voice over the camera shot is digitally altered – it’s impossible to tell the sex or age through the robotic warble that has been inserted.)

How touching. Even with Merritt out of the picture, Thomas just keeps sniveling on, like a runny nose that just won’t go away.

Steve thinks that because I’ve been quiet that I’ve gone away… that we’ve gone away. I haven’t had to make myself known like this before, but it’s only fitting, on this ANNIVERSARY… it’s truly fitting, that I step into the house that Merritt and Thomas believe they built and give them one last hurrah before I take it all away.

(The camera centers on the ring from a distance, possibly in one of the lower level boxes or at the back of an aisleway. Ringcrew is working on rigging the lights, but doesn’t seem to see the filmmaker.)

You don’t know me, Steve. None of you do. But you will. On my time. Through my plan. When I’m ready, I’ll throw you more than the scraps I have so far. And when you finally get to see the scope, the true scope of what’s been set in motion – well, the look on your face will be one for the ages.

(CUTTO: Thomas finishing up his speech. He’s apparently broken into tears for a few moments.)

That's what this moment means to me.

And I'm damn proud to have brought the ship back to port, in one piece. Once again, it's Sink or Swim. It's a REBIRTH for the league that changed wrestling and made men. I hope you enjoy CSWA17.

We're home again.

May God will a light always be on.

(FTB)

(Fade in to a darkened room. A single spotlight shines on JA, who's dressed to the nines in a three-piece suit in front of an old-style microphone on a stand. He taps into the mic before speaking into it.)

JA: Is this thing on? *tap tap* Good.

(He looks around before staring back into the mic.)

JA: Well all you cats and kittens, we're here at ANNIVERSARY in Greensboro, and that can only mean one thing. Stevie Thomas has somehow beaten off those creditors with a stick and the See-Ess-Dub has survived another year.

In honor of being a part of the most storied wrestling company on the planet, I figured I'd offer this birthday gesture to you guys, the CSWA, a place crazy enough to pay me to work for you. Here you go, hep cats!

(Another spotlight shines on a beautiful, multi-layered cake.)

JA: Now, that's not some ordinary cake there, daddy-o. That one's got a special surprise in it. No, it's not a dead Baltic hooker, but I'm sure with July de la Rossdale roaming around, I'm sure you can find one or two somewhere in this arena.

Nope, inside is a special treat for you, the CSWA, for everyone who makes this place tick. From Stevie-boy and his dynamo of a secretary up in the office, all the way down through the ranks of the great men who've stepped in this ring...

(JA's voice tightens... he's about to step into uncharted territory... he's GONNA GET SERIOUS!)

JA: ...for Eli Flair and for Mark Windham. For Dan Ryan and for GUNS. For Shane Southern and for Eddie Mayfield. For Mark Vizzack and for for Mike Randalls. For Joey Melton... and for Hornet.

And all the way down to every kid who's ever sat in any seat of the Mer(bleep) Auditorium, the front row or the nosebleeds, who's ever dreamed of being in that ring.

Well, crazies... this song's for you.

(The top of the cake begins to crumble as a buxom blonde dressed in a vintage 1960s white dress and a Marilyn Monroe haircut appears. As she uncovers her face, you can see it's Lollipop. She gives a come-hither stare into the camera as she begins to sing.)

Lollipop: Happy birthday to you... happy birthday to you... happy birthday... Mister See-Ess-Double-Yoo-Aye...

...happy birthday to you.

(Lollipop smiles and bites her bottom lip as the camera pans back over to JA.)

JA: Happy seventeenth, CS Enterprises. May you have several more like it.

(Fade to black.)

(FADEIN: A black screen with the CSWA17 logo superimposed in the center. There are no images, just audio clips of previous CSWA moments.)

BB: Hornet up, catches Adler with a shot to the knee, drops him down to the top turnbuckle. Right hand by Hornet. He climbs up onto the second turnbuckle. Now up to the third. Pulls Adler up... double underhook suplex down to the canvas! Hornet rolls over... ONE... TWO... no! Kickout again. Hornet drops elbows into the small of the back. He grabs Adler by the tights and yanks him back into a hard forearm. Irish Whip by Hornet, reversal by Adler, double reversal by Hornet! Both hit hard head-to- head. Adler falls backwards through the ropes and down to the floor.

(Slow Fade as the next audio clip streams in.)

BB: Hornet just hit the shooting star press on a prone Tom Adler! Hornet rolls Adler over! Young dives to the mat to count the cover! The crowd is on its feet to count along! ONE!!!!!! TWO!!!!!!! THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wright: NO! NO! His shoulder is up!

BB: But not in time. Hornet has just won the United States Heavyweight Championship for the FIFTH time, defeating an incredible champion in what may go down as one of the great ANNIVERSARY matches!

(Slow Fade as the next audio clip streams in.)

BB: Eli and Windham to the top of the ladder...Flair hooking Windham...I’ve got that same bad feeling Sammy, Ivy and Hortense holding the ladder, Flair lifts Windham up, POWERBOMB OFF THE LADDER!!

(Fans chant: “Eli! Eli!”)

(Slow Fade as the next audio clip streams in.)

BB: Windham again piledriving Eli to the hard, cold floor! A damaged eye, the severity of which we don’t know at this point, and quite possibly a broken neck! Windham’s been devastating with that piledriver for fifteen years.

(Mark feeds Eli’s legs through the railing, then leaps over.)

BB: What’s he doing? Windham climbs on top of the railing, he’s got a hold of Eli’s feet! Mark pulling up on them, sits down, A BOSTON CRAB!

SB: Some of these morons are bracing Windham’s back as he leans behind for more leverage!

BB: Eli in pain! Young to ask him!

PY: Eli....do you...

ELI: (Censor)

BB: Good call there guys. Flair not giving it up, Mark sitting on that Boston Crab!

PY: Eli?

ELI: Are you F****** thick Young? Ahhhh.

(Slow Fade as the next audio clip streams in.)

BB: It’s a load on Eli just to get the hold up, but he’s not letting go. Windham isn’t quitting, his shoulder is out of place...he’s been beaten to a pulp. What has to happen for him to say the words?

(Fans buzzing. Can’t believe he hasn’t quit yet)

PY: Mark? You there?

(Windham calmly stares at Ivy straight ahead from him outside the ring.)

PY: Mark!

MW: (on mic) Yes, I quit.

(Slow Fade as the next audio clip streams in.)

BB: Ryan to his feet, PARTY’S OVER! PARTY’S OVER! From out of nowhere! Man alive!

(Shane kneels to cover Ryan, his eyes about twice their normal size, he knows that was it. The force of the blow however dropped Ryan through the ropes and outside.)

BB: Southern dropped to pin but nobody was home! That was the World Title in his hands right there! Man!

(Fans know it too, and react accordingly.)

(Southern goes after Ryan on the outside, rolling him back in, but time is wasting.)

CM: Is it still going to be enough Buckley?

BB: Southern has him, hooks the leg, (Worthington on his knees to cover in prime position.) ONE......TWO........NO!!!! (Crowd groans.)

(Slow Fade as the next audio clip streams in.)

(Southern’s scaled up the side of the cage, and like a kid on a jungle gym has made his way across the roof and above Ryan.)

BB: Ryan...turns..FRANK’N’SOUTHERN!! INTO A BRIDGE!! ONE.....TWO.........................THR-NOOOOO!! NOOOO!

(Crowd’s going wild.)

CM: Ryan, the World Champion with the strength to kick out.

BB: The heart! Southern can not believe he hasn’t won this match look at him!! (southern on his knees banging his head into the mat.) It’s been his career’s dream to win the World Title! How close has he been tonight? Chad that had to be three!!

CM: Ryan doesn’t want to lose it. It’s as simple as that. Dan Ryan will not turn loose of this belt on this PPV.

(Slow Fade as the next audio clip streams in.)

BB: Southern moves and Ryan cracks his head against the mat. Southern rushes Ryan to his feet, positions him...POWERBOMB! POWERBOMB!!

(Shane still has a hold of Ryan’s legs.)

CM: BRIDGE PIN!! NICE!!

(As his feet hit the mat, Shane slips a bit, losing one hand of the bridge.)

BB: (Worthington leaps into the air, flashbulbs go off, and he slides into position.) Southern for the World Title, ONE...................TWO......(Merritt Auditorium counting.) THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

(Slow Fade as the next audio clip streams in.)

BB: Southern’s shoulders were down! Good gracious! He’s in a state of shock. I want to say it’s highway robbery, but it was a great call...and even better move by Dan Ryan.

CM: I told you he wouldn’t lose it tonight. Southern... you have to feel bad for him. He was there he had it.

(The CSWA17 Logo violently shakes, then explodes into a thousand pieces.)

(MUSIC-CUEUP: “A Sort Of Homecoming.”)

(CUTTO: CSWA ANNIVERSARY 1989. The first ANNIVERSARY, one year, three champions. Hornet stands across the ring from Wall, with Ray S. Cornette outside the corner. Hornet comes off the top for his famous top-rope jump splash, but Wall rolls his bulk out of the way. He picks up the downed Hornet and nails him with the Slam Heard Round The World, and Cornette straps the CSWA World Title around Wall's waist.)

And you know it’s time to go
Through the sleet and driving snow
Across the fields of mourning
Light in the distance

(CUTTO: CSWA ANNIVERSARY 1996: The Eliminator vs. ATTAXX in a 'BaseBrawl' match)

BB: ELI picks up ATTAXX....BIG CHOKESLAM! Rosenthal into the ring, and ELI CRACKS HIM OVER THE HEAD WITH THE BAT! ELI rests the bat down in the center of the ring.....OH NO! ELI...WITH A POWERBOMB DOWN ON THE BAT! ATTAXX is OUT COLD! Eli with the cover, ONE, TWO, THREE!!! THIS ONE'S OVER, and ELI retains yet again! Wait a second...Eli's asking for the house mic....what could he possibly have to say!

MM: Hell, I didn't even know the guy could talk!

BB: That's enough....

ELIMINATOR: You know something? Defending this title.... (Flashes the IC Championship to the camera) it just isn't a challenge anymore. I want to prove that I'm the BEST in the CSWA....and I want something better than this....and I'm gonna get it! (Throws down the IC Championship....)

(CUTTO: CSWA ANNIVERSARY 1997)

And you hunger for the time
Time to heal, desire, time
And your earth moves beneath
Your own dream landscape

BB: (sighs) HELLO WRESTLING FANS!!! Welcome to Nashville's SKYDOME ARENA where I'm surrounded by sixty thousand screaming fans who are ready to see a new CSWA World Heavyweight Champion crowned! This is CSWA ANNIVERSARY 1997: NINE YEARS IN THE MAKING.

(CUTTO: The television wall which begins showing clips of the CSWA's greatest moments, as well as the first two rounds of the recent CSWA World Heavyweight Tournament, but then.....the wall goes blank and the lights flicker in the arena)

BB: I think we're having a little technical difficulty.....

(The movie screen combining the TV wall can be seen through, and behind it, a small figure is seen looking upwards, as a larger figure reaches in front and starts strangling the smaller man. The smaller figure begins kicking, but is lifted off his feet by the larger man... until he goes limp. The larger man drops the smaller figure and runs off.)

BB: Oh my dear Lord. I think we just witnessed a murder! Somebody get the paramedics...and the police!!

(CUTTO: CSWA ANNIVERSARY 1997 -- CSWA World Tournament Final)

BILL BUCKLEY: GUNS doesn't waste anytime, Godreign is stunned, GUNS has him in position....TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER!!! HERE'S THE COVER, ONE.....TWO......THREE!!!! I don't believe it, GUNS is the NEW CSWA WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!!

Oh, oh, oh...
On borderland we run...

I’ll be there
I’ll be there...
Tonight
A high road
A high road out from here

SAMMY BENSON: Oh, Why!! Why!!??

BILL BUCKLEY: GUNS, has the belt in his hands, he's beside himself! Godreign has a chair, he's not taking this loss too well! GUNS steps out of the ring just in time!! He's walking back to the dressing room, with the World Title over his shoulder!!

(CUTTO: CSWA ANNIVERSARY 1998: Titanic: Sink or Swim; Mark Windham vs. Troy Windham)

BB: Oh shut up! Troy, that's a can of mace!!! He just sprayed Mace in the eyes of Mark Windham!! Troy throws the evidence into the stands!! Windham is rolling around in pain!! I don't believe this!!

The city walls are all come down
The dust, a smoke screen all around
See faces ploughed like fields that once
Gave no resistance

And we live by the side of the road
On the side of a hill
As the valley explode
Dislocated, suffocated
The land grows weary of it’s own

SB: That's what happens when you try to get fresh with Troy Windham!

BB: Will you stop it! Troy has Mark up....Double Arm Powerbomb!! He's going to cover for the win... ONE........TWO.......no this can't happen......THREE!!!

SB: YES! YES! I mean, that's cheating!!!

BB: Oh stuff it, Sammy! Troy rolls out of the ring! He's stolen one here tonight... this is awful! You'd think a former World Champion could muster a little more class than that.

(CUTTO: CSWA ANNIVERSARY 1998 -- CSWA World Title match)

Oh, oh, oh...on borderland we run...
And still we run
We run and don’t look back
I’ll be there
I’ll be there
Tonight
Tonight

I’ll be there tonight...i believe
I’ll be there...somehow
I’ll be there...tonight
Tonight

BB: Inside the ring, Hornet sends GUNS into the ropes again...but Troy Windham trips GUNS up and pulls him outside the ring! Troy Windham is all over GUNS, and Hornet and Ben Worthington are just staring at each other!!! Windham throws GUNS into the railing, and now suplexes him onto the concrete. Troy's setting GUNS up for something....but before he can do anything else...Hornet WITH A PLANCHA!!! He just caught Windham and slammed him into the guardrail with a suicide dive!!!! Windham is down, and now both Hornet and GUNS are on their feet. They appear to be jawing back and forth....but not for long...now MARK WINDHAM NAILS HORNET IN THE BACK WITH A CHAIR!!!

TM: He came out of nowhere with that one! One second he was coming down the aisle, then we lost track of him!!!

BB: Mark is going after Hornet with that chair again....but before he can, GUNS levels him with a clothesline!!! Hornet's on his feet...and again we've got some kind of staredown between GUNS and Hornet!!! They say something to each other...and now they've taken after the Windhams!!! GUNS is all over Troy....Hornet's all over Mark, and we've got a pier six brawl on the outside!!! Hornet has the chair and is using it on Mark. GUNS drops Troy with a DDT, and now he's got the crossface hooked in!!! Mark's on his feet, the chair has been thrown in the ring, and Hornet and Mark are throwing punches like they're candy!! Fans, I don't know what's going on.....I don't know if the Windhams planned this...I don't know why Mark is attacking Hornet...I don't even know if the match is over! All I know is that earlier in the night, Troy Windham maced Mark....Hornet and GUNS despised each other....and now it looks like everything's been turned on its head! I have gotten word from Rhubarb Jones that the third fall has been ruled a no-contest... which means that the match ends in a draw one fall a piece....and that the CSWA World Title is still vacant.

(CUTTO: ANNIVERSARY 1999: Revelations -- IRONMAN of CHAMPIONS Eddy Love vs. Kevin Powers)

BB: After tonight, I have to agree... no matter what you think about both these men, they’ve given it their all... Powers is getting up... and so is Love. This crowd is on fire. (The crowd is clapping frenetically.) Both guys are up. Powers lunges- Love ducks the closeline. Powers with a kick to the stomach- HE’S GOING FOR THE POWERBOMB- NO! HIS KNEE! HIS KNEE! GOOD GOD CAN’T GET EDDY LOVE UP. Eddy Love is let go, and he bounces off the rope- POWERS WITH A KICK TO THE STOMACH AGAIN! He has Love- He’s going for the powerbomb again. LOVE HAS THE LEG HOOKED. HE BLOCKED THE HOLD! Powers now- he’s underhooking his arms! He’s trying to lift him up butterfly style.

The wind will crack in winter time
This bomb-blast lightning waltz
No spoken words, just a scream...

SB: He can’t do it, Buckley! His knee’s too hurt. He couldn’t do it normal style, and this has GOT to be harder.

BB: Powers is trying--listen to him scream! Love is STRUGGLING to block the hold. (Melissa is screaming at ringside. Kevin Powers lets out a DEAFENING yell, and he gets Eddy Love up.) POWERS HAS LOVE UP! HE- GOOD GOD!!! HE JUST PILEDROVE EDDY LOVE RIGHT ON HIS NECK! OH MY GOD! Powers is down, holding his knee. Powers lays on top... One....Two...THREEEEE! (The crowd goes ballistic, as firecrackers go off in the arena.) “GOOD GOD” KEVIN POWERS JUST WON! HE JUST BEAT HIS TAG TEAM PARTNER EDDY LOVE!

(CUTTO: ANNIVERSARY 1999 -- IRONMAN of CHAMPIONS Hornet vs. Eli Flair)

Tonight we’ll build a bridge
Across the sea and land
See the sky, the burning rain
She will die and live again
Tonight

BB: He is...but we're down to around three minutes left in this one. Hornet pulls Flair up and sends him into the corner one more time!!!! He charges in with the elbow, but nobody's home again!!! Flair grabs hold of Hornet and sends him all the way across the ring into the opposite corner.....where Poison Ivy nails him in the head with that cane!!!!!!

RM: What a shot!!!!

BB: I don't know if Juarez saw it or not......Hornet staggers out of the corner.....here comes Flair! INVERTED DDT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! He drops Hornet like a ton of bricks!!! He hooks the leg! ONE.................. TWO................. THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ELI FLAIR HAS DONE IT!!! LOOK AT THAT MAN'S FACE...HE CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!!

RJ: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH AND YOUR NEWWWWWW CSWA WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION.......TOTAL ELIMINATION ELI FLAIRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!

(CUTTO: CSWA ANNIVERSARY 1993 – Joey Melton vs. Sammy Flair for the IC Belt.)

BB: Melton superplexing Flair off the top rope!! YES!

SB: Come on Joey. Come on!

BB: Stop hitting me Benson, I’m not a race horse!

(Melton winks at the crowd, then hooks in the Figure Four.)

SB: Gimme a little more, Buckley! More!

BB: Ow!

(Dissolve to: Melton, bloodied by holding the IC belt for a 6th time.)

(CUTTO: CSWA ANNIVERSARY 2001 – “Rage In The Cage” Eli Flair vs. Troy Windham.)

And your heart beats so slow
Through the rain and fallen snow
Across the fields of mourning
Light’s in the distance

BB: Look at this staredown. Eli Flair can barely put any weight on that leg, his face is a bloody mess, and his arms are battered all over. Troy Windham’s face was just as bloody a moment ago, his hand is swelling and turning purple, and his neck has gotta be in agony!

SB: But neither man has quit, Buckley. Neither man WILL, in my opinion.

BB: TROY SWINGS THE CHAIR! ELI DUCKED OUT OF THE WAY! Eli grabbed Troy by his broken hand and forces him to his knees!

ELI: NOW SAY THE WORDS!

BB: Troy isn’t saying much of anything, but he’s shaking his head! He can’t get a good shot on Eli with the chair, he’s in a no- win situation here! Eli forces that hand to the mat… and… oh my god! Eli is stepping on Troy’s broken hand! That gave him the leverage to grab the chair out of Troy’s hands!

ELI: Say it and I’ll stop!

BB: Eli dropped the microphone by Troy’s free hand, and holds the chair high above his head! Troy grabs the microphone!

TW: YOU… STINK!

BB: ELI WITH THAT CHAIR DOWN ON TROY’S FACE! He’s busted Troy’s nose! But Troy still refuses to give! Eli with the chair again, this time on Troy’s right knee! He gets off Troy’s hand and takes a step back, giving his opponent the floor to quit!

SB: Haven't we heard those words somewhere before? Troy’s still shaking his head! Even Eddy is telling him to give, to stop the pain!

BB: Troy ’s too stubborn to do that! Eli hobbles around in a circle for a moment – it looks like he can put a little of his weight on that knee again – and kicks Troy square in the head! This is too much! We need some help down here!

SB: We need a coroner!

BB: Troy is pulling himself back to his feet, but he’s a mess! The fans, Sammy, don’t seem to know what to make of this match anymore either! Eli with that chair, rams the edge into Troy’s gut! Troy is doubled over, and Eli brings the chair down on his back! He steps on Troy’s broken hand again!

ELI: One last chance, Troy.

BB: Eli’s got Troy’s left index finger in his hand!

ELI: Say it.

TW: FLAIR SUCKS!

BB: Oh my…

SB: I think I’m gonna be sick.

(The CSWA camera crew pulls back to a wide shot... but the audio remains.)

BB: ELI HAS JUST SNAPPED TROY’S INDEX FINGER!

ELI: Try it again, Troy?

TW: **** YOU!

BB: ELI HAS SNAPPED TROY’S MIDDLE FINGER!

SB: EDDY! HELP TROY!

BB: Eddy Love may have heard you, Sammy, as he’s just opened up that cage door and climbed in! Eli hasn’t seen him, his attention is focused on Troy, and on the stirring Patrick Young!

ELI: One more, Troy?

TW: Snap it, you bastard!

BB: Eli is going to—Eddy Love just tossed that bloody towel at Patrick Young! Eli spins around and sees Eddy standing there, and Young gets in between the two!

SB: Troy isn’t moving! We need some help for Troy!

BB: Patrick Young pushes Eli back, away from Eddy Love, and he… calls for the bell?

SB: What just happened?

BB: Eddy Love has retrieved Troy Windham from the middle of the ring and is pulling him outside! Eli is talking animatedly with the referee… what was the bell for?

RJ: Ladies and gentlemen, even though there has been no confirmation of Troy Windham saying the words, “I QUIT,” referee Patrick Young has elected to accept as an alternative, Eddy Love throwing in the towel for Troy . Therefore, the winner of this match—

(CUTTO: CSWA ANNIVERSARY 2001 - Evan Aho vs. Hornet for the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP.)

BB: Here it comes..... HORNET SPLASH!!!

Oh don’t sorrow, no don’t weep
For tonight, at last
I am coming home
I am coming home

SB: MISS HOOTERS.... ON THE APRON.... WITH A CANDLESTICK!

BB: Teri Melton just walloped Hornet in the side of the head with a candlestick. Worthington's on the wrong side to see it!

SB: A think of beauty...

BB: Aho's still stunned from the Splash, he's clueless. Hornet stumbles backwards. Aho goes in...kick to the gut. He hits the ropes..... THE AGONY! He nails Hornet with that diving inverted DDT! And here it comes...this crowd is still up.... THE ECSTASY! Worthington dives into position to count it. ONE......... TWO...... THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! EVAN AHO RETAINS THE CSWA WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!

SB: And HOOTERS are back baby!

BB: Ben Worthington presents Aho with his World Title belt....and Hornet is still stunned in the center of the ring. But what in the name of all that's good is going on with Teri Melton!? It's obvious she's not pregnant.... was this whole thing a setup? For eight months?

SB: The light bulb's finally starting to get some juice there, ain't it Buckley?

BB: As Evan Aho starts to exit this arena full of screaming fans, it looks like he's getting some special music of his own.

SB: That's not for him, you goof.

BB: Who's it..... CSWA Owner Chad Merritt is at the top of the rampway, and it looks like he's on his way down. He stops to shake hands with the World Champ... but Aho blows by his boss.

SB: Not a smart thing to do, especially not tonight.

BB: What's Merritt coming down here for? Is he going to... oh no....

SB: That light bulb just gets brighter and brighter doesn't it, el stupido?

BB: CAN IT, Benson....before I can you.

SB: Not even your threats can bring me down this time, Buckley.

BB: Merritt gets to ringside....and Teri Melton falls in his arms. It was a setup all along....another ploy to.... well, it looks like we're going to hear from Merritt himself.

(Merritt and Melton climb into the ring.... but the crowd isn't happy.)

MERRITT: You know ladies and gentlemen, if they gave Oscars for performances in wrestling....the beautiful young lady standing next to me would have no competition. For nine months, she's pretended to be Hornet's castoff... when we all know that no man in his right mind would send her away. She's pretended to be housing the spawn of the devil himself, and she did it even better than that chick in Rosemary's Baby.

(Teri takes a bow to all four sides of the arena as Merritt continues.)

You see, there was no better piece to play against the opponent's King than my Queen. Only "The American Woman" could get under the skin of the former "Greatest American Hero." Only a woman like Teri Melton could help me make the final play to deliver Checkmate against the men who tried to bring me down.

Over a year ago, four so-called superstars stepped into this ring and tried to usurp my authority. You see, this wasn't some cartoon comradery like the NWO down in Atlanta or up in Stamford... this was the banding together of three men and one woman who decided that I was a bigger threat than their hatred for one another. And you know what? They were right.

But they made the mistake of underestimating me yet again? And where did that leave them? It left Eli Flair without Poison Ivy and back to his antics of self-destruction. He may have won the night tonight... but he may never walk into or out of another arena under his own power again.

Mike Randalls got the second shock of his life tonight. Hornet may have made steam rise years ago using an electrified steel cage.... but all I needed was one contract signing to get the same effect. Randalls never believed I'd let "The Strongest Arms In The World" step foot in a CSWA ring again... and he was wrong.

And then the final irony. The man they call Hornet... brought to his knees by a woman. All because he couldn't accept a fair contract offer without making a power play. Let me tell you one thing Hornet... I may not be able to fire you... I may not be able to suspend you... and I may have to pay you a truckload of money over the next three years.... but you will never, ever get one-up on me again. And if you ever try...I'll grind you up until there's nothing left, except little pieces of you to sell for $19.95 at the souvenir stands.

Folks, we're certainly glad you came. I wouldn't have wanted you to miss this for the world.

(Merritt and Melton step outside the ring.)

BB: Just when you thought he might actually be a decent guy....

SB: You were hoping, weren't you?

(FTB)

(CUTTO: The CSWA Auditorium in Greensboro, NC. Various camera angles of a sold out Auditorium, twenty-three thousand strong, lifted out of their seats as they wildly celebrate the start of CSWA17: Rebirth. The CSWA turns seventeen tonight. Some of the fans in the front row have an annual booking this time of year in the auditorium. League history is more their own, as the stories of seeing Hornet and Wall put the CSWA on the map over a weekend in 1989 have filtered down through sets of friends, wives, and for a few, their children.

At an ANNIVERSARY Celebration you come early, stay late, and filter out of the exits together, reliving the experience as your feet absorb the shock of pavement on the way back to a long wait in traffic with people you never knew prior to handing in your ANNIVERSARY ticket at the box office. Every year there’s a CS sponsored barbeque of some sort. Last year, Melton hijacked the festivities in an effort to convert the dedicated into vegans. Today, Thomas opened up the checkbook to bring back some of the company’s all-time greats. There was former World Heavyweight champion Degadeth, grilling over a high, open flame. The Clark Brothers, Sammy’s first charges into semi-stardom, throwing bags of ice over tables and ensuring the fans who paid $75 to eat, and tug on a former hero’s ear, got cool refreshment.

ANNIVERSARY, it’s a chance to say “thank you.” To take a ten-minute stroll though the massive parking lot and have hundreds of fans remind you what a show you and Troy put on in ’01. Rage In The Cage. This is what Eli’s giving up. When he left having signed more autographs than he had year-to-date, Flair managed a satisfied grin. It won’t be the same. Ever.

But, these times, they are a changin’.

Those who have made the last seventeen years possible laugh and come together in a way they otherwise could never. The old-timers hold court, carefully passing laminated snap shots of a bloodied Hornet and Wall posing together after the show to geeking ANNIVERSARY virgins.

It’s the ANNIVERSARY of seventeen years worth of stories that have been told in-ring, and between its patient, and loving faithful.

It’s an excuse to see old friends, and for a day, believe the world wishes it were you.

The camera lights are red now, the script soon to be dramatically read, but as all eyes turn to the center of the squared circle, where Bill Buckley stands flanked by Rudy Seitzer, and Sammy Benson, a faint trace of depression settles in.

In three hours, there’s a yearlong wait until the CSWA does it again.)

(CLOSE-UP – Bill Buckley, Sammy Benson, and the venerable Rudy Seitzer standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the center of the ring, decked out in black and white tuxedos; Benson visibly uncomfortable in his. Buckley glances quickly at his co-hosts, a brilliance emitting from the voice of the CSWA. Seizter returns Buckley’s siphoned joy, and gives the main camera the grin that shook his wife’s heart to its core a millions years ago. Sammy sarcastically pleads with a hand gesture to get moving. For the Greensboro anti-hero, ANNIVERSARY is three hours from hard liquor.)

BB: Helloooooooooooo wrestling fans, I’m Billlllllllllllll Buckley alongside Rudy Seizter, and Sammy Benson! Welcome to CSWA17: Rebirth! We are Live! From the CSWA Auditorium in Greensboro, North Carolina! Sammy, Rudy, (beat) it’s that time of year again…

SB: (cutting Rudy off) Where we come to Greensboro to collect our last check. Amazingly enough Buckley, they still clear. ANNIVERSARY to me, Buckley, is seeing a man like Dan Ryan evolve and understand in Thomas’ world you have to make the money stretch. We made it another year. Seizter for the time being doesn’t have to go back to knocking on doors selling meat. But, let’s not pretend all is rosey with the world, and Seizter will retire here in another two years. CSWA17. They’ve delayed the inevitable for another month. Really, if our society NEEDS to celebrate that, then we might as well go all the way and replace one of the greatest frontmen of all time via a reality show.

RS: Awww, Bill, after seventeen years of labor, look at our bundle of joy.

BB: He’s precious, in his own way Rudy.

SB: Oh go to hell. Look, Seizter, I don’t even know why you’re here. When Thomas put in the vending machines that spit out Juicy Juice, your usefulness expired.

RS: I’m afraid to even ask what that means.

BB: It’s best not to ask questions, Rudy.

RS: Sorry, my mistake. Working in the back and actually contributing to the product has left me in the dark at handling Benson with care.

SB: Cute, Seizter. Cute. I’ve got something you can han---

BB: FANS--

SB: WHAT? It’s PPV you pansy.

BB: What a show we have tonight! The UNIFIED Final Four! The Presidential tournament finals! The Greensboro title on the line!

SB: Yadda, yadda yadda, the humanoids watching at home fell asleep. Melons McGee. MISS HOOTERS! “The American Woman” Teri Melton…

RS: And technically your boss…

SB: Will step into this very ring and shut Poison Ivy up for the first time! We thought it couldn’t be done, but Teri Melton will show why she’s the class bitch of wrestling, and will RETIRE Ivy not just from the sport, but from LIFE! There’s a homely shelter in upstate Jersey that Melton supports through her charitable foundation, and it’s where Ivy McGinnis is headed oh, (Sammy looks at his watch) in about four hours. For all you dogs knitting and rewatching “The Good Girl” on DVD, cue the gallon of ice cream, and save a hand of Poker for Ivy, cause the Psycho Bitch may be your new roommate if Melons wins!

BB: And what army is Teri bringing with her?

SB: Do you REALLY want me to go there, Buckley?

RS: No. No we don’t. Sammy, I think you’re wrong. Ivy’s serious about this match. Teri Melton should be worried! Her job is on the line! Everything she, well, did nothing for, could be lost!

BB: Great point Rudy...

SB: Trust me Seizter. When Ivy goes to bed tonight, it’ll be on the hard, wet, cement floor of Teri’s unfinished basement in her new home. Tonight, Teri Melton, makes the case FOR slavery.

BB: Oh geez.

RS: Let’s hope “Rebirth” isn’t Ivy’s swansong but it is Eli Flair’s. The wrestling legend, closes a chapter on his fabulous career tonight as he steps into the ring, one last time, with Hornet!

BB: Flair, maybe more than anyone else in this company has delivered classic ANNIVERSARY moments. He’s made his career here, it’s only fitting he says goodbye at ANNIVERSARY, and against his former Claimstaker, Hornet.

SB: Has it occurred to either of you numbskulls that the reason we haven’t gotten a raise in five years is because of That Damn Hornet. Eddy Love tried to save this company and destroy Bugbrain, but like a polygamist, the sun rises and Hornet’s greed for one more taints us all.

RS: Sammy…you know my sister-in-law was forced into marriage ten years ago.

SB: I know. It’s called a thinly veiled personal attack. How’s that for contributing.

BB: Eli Flair says goodbye, but who leaves with the upper hand between those two Legends? If you’re talking CSWA17, you begin and end with the UNIFIED FINAL FOUR. Rudy, it’s been a great tournament to this point. Ryan, Jacobs, Windham, and the mysterious Vacant. Any four men, don’t you think?

RS: There’s not much between the four remaining contestants, Bill. Literally, any mistake could cost them a chance at THE belt in wrestling.

SB: I say the winner grows a set and challenges the World Junior champion, Joey Melton for a TRUE unification match.

BB: Well, Sammy’s fulfilled his contractual obligations by name dropping Melton into the conversation. Nicely played.

SB: Cha-Ching.

BB: Enough talk! Right! (Huge pop) Rudy the UNIFIED FINAL FOUR! The pairings please!

RS: (Smiles) Dan Ryan will face…Vince Jacobs!

(Wild cheers.)

BB: And that means…

(MUSIC CUEUP: “Beverly Hills” by Weezer)

RS: It’s all yours, Rhubarb.

(As white sparks start to shoot out along the elevated rampway, Rhubarb Jones steps onto the apron.)

RJ: Ladies and gentlemen, the first match of CSWA17: Rebirth is a one-fall, and is a semifinal match in the UNIFIED World Championship Tournament! Entering the ring first, hailing from Sweetwater, TX, he stands at six-feet-six-inches tall and two hundred forty-five pounds. The master of the SlackKnife reverse neckbreaker, he has been known as “The King of All Media,” “Mr. CSWA” and has held the CSWA World Heavyweight Title. He’s now known as “The Epitome.” Ladies and gentlemen, this is the first of your UNIFIED Final Four, TROYYYYYYYYYYY WINDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDHAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!

(Troy steps onto the expanded stage as roman candle pyro goes off to either side, lighting him up first in green, then red, then white and gold. As Troy starts down the rampway, the three announcers have climbed outside. Buckley and Benson are back at the ringside table. Rudy has gone to wherever it is that Rudy goes.)

BB: Mark Windham’s little brother has pronounced that tonight will be the “Coronation” that he’s always wanted. But we have yet to see who will crowned later in the evening.

SB: You’re so punny, Buckley, you know that?

(As Troy rolls into the ring, he actually looks like he has a serious look on his face. That doesn’t stop him from acknowledging a “Troy I Want Your Baby” sign held by a young rat a few rows back.)

(CUEUP: “Who Are You?” by The Who. There’s no pyro, no huge fanfare for the man called Vacant. Just a single spotlight waiting. As quite a bit of the crowd boos, the masked man steps into the spotlight, dressed in black from the top of his mask to the soles of his boots. Even with the mask on, it still seems like he’s laughing at a joke that only he knows the punchline to.)

SB: So if Vacant wins the title tonight, are we actually going to find out who this guy is?

BB: How do we know that it’s anybody we know, Sammy? He certainly hasn’t guaranteed that he’s going to let us know who he is. He hasn’t guaranteed anything except that he’s going to bring down the CSWA we know and love.

SB: Which, if he were a few inches shorter and another hundred pounds heavier, might make it easier to guess. But GUNS is long gone thanks to the Professionals, and Mayfield and Miles are gone too. Or is one of them under that mask?

BB: Basically, as long as it’s somebody named some variant of “Eddie,” you’d be thrilled, right?

SB: Thrilled would be an understatement. But he doesn’t move like Eddie, and he doesn’t talk like Eddy.

BB: Eddie Mayfield and Eddy Love, respectively.

SB: Did I stutter?

BB: I’m trying to keep our European fans in the loop, Sammy. SKY Sports has picked up this CSWA spectacular.

SB: I’m thrilled. Does this mean we have to add a French announcers’ table next to the Mexican one? Or maybe they could share.

BB: They’re Spanish announcers, Sammy.

SB: Same difference.

BB: No, it’s not. Rudy, can you help me out here?

SB: Yeah, where the heck did he go anyway? Not that I’m complaining…

(As the camera pulls back to show referee Ben Worthington checking Vacant and Troy for weapons and going through the rules, the video cuts away to Rudy Seitzer, microphone in hand.)

RUDY: I'm here in the Skybox with a man that many longtime fans of the CSWA wondered if they would ever see him again on our shows. But RUDYiversary brings them all back, like a big family reunion, and with me now is one of the most hallowed members of our family…

(Camera pans to the right to find…)

RUDY: The Deacon. (The crowd pops huge!) Deacon, have you liked the show thus far?

DEAC: It RUDYiversary. How you not like it?

RUDY: It's been a few years, so how has life treated you?

DEAC: I not complain, but content wherever I am.

RUDY: And what about the chance to return to a CSWA ring, champ?

DEAC: Not anytime soon. Right now, I work in fWo. I tried to split my work in t'e past, working CSWA and ot'er feds. Now, I try focus on one and give my best work t'ere. My best time in CSWA was when I just work t'ere, and able to focus on how to tell best story possible.

RUDY: You are in the NFW though, right?

DEAC: T'at for Craig, and he do all t'e t'inking. I just have to get in ring and do my t'ing a few times a month. It hard on my back, but he know my limits.

RUDY: So what're the chances you'll come back to the CSWA down the road? I mean, Miles is going to die off soon enough from lung cancer, right?

DEAC: In a business t'at has Eric Bishoff working for Vinnie Mac, I know t'at you can never say never. I still love it here, and call it home, my absence just about time constraint and ability.

RUDY: And what do you think of the current CSWA product?

DEAC: Merritt and Thomas always have somet'ing up their sleeve…always have, t’ey just not always good about getting it out the sleeve. But t'is place not alien to me – Eli & Troy still here, Flyer, and of course, Vince Jacobs.

RUDY: And Jacobs is going into the other Final Four match tonight.

DEAC: Anot'er championship for t'e Superstar. He no stranger to t'e spotlight, I actually t'ink he have several in his home to follow him around. It probably t'e same one he bring wit' him to every stadium.

RUDY: And we'll see if he makes it to face the winner of this match. With that, back to you, Buckley.

(CUTTO: The ring. The bell rings as Troy and Vacant stare at each other, Troy trying to burrow into that mask, Vacant taking the measure of “The Epitome.”)

BB: Wrestling fans, this match is underway… it’s just down to see who will make the first move. It’s great to see Deacon though, even if it’s not in the ring.

SB: Ah yes, a Mute Freak sighting. I didn’t think he’d ever shut up, though. Maybe I need to rethink the nickname. At least he didn’t have Chris ‘Holier Than Thou’ Shepherd with him.

BB: Rudy didn’t mention that Deacon currently holds the fWo World Title. In fact, he defeated Eli Flair for it.

SB: Didn’t I almost work for that place?

BB: It was either there or that strip club in Atlanta you’re always talking about. Hold on… Vacant charges!!! Troy tries to sidestep, but gets caught with a shoulder. Troy still on his feet, Vacant whips him across – back body drop! Troy to his feet, but he gets backed into the corner. Huge European uppercuts rock Troy in the corner!

SB: Well, we saw against Alias how Troy can win without even getting a move in, so Vacant better be careful.

BB: I can’t imagine that Thomas is going to allow shenanigans like that to happen again.

SB: Shenanigans? I don’t think I’ve heard that word broadcast since South Park.

BB: Vacant whips the lanky Texan all the way across the ring into the opposite corner. Watch out! HANDSPRING ELBOW! One of the only things we know about Vacant is that he can keep up with any luchador, and he just proved it there! He grabs the back of Troy’s head and pushes him to the canvas.

SB: Classy move. I’m telling you, I like this guy more and more every time I see him.

BB: Vacant bounds to the top rope…he doesn’t even take time to set up! MOONSAULT!!! He hits home and hooks the leg! ONE! TWO!!!! NO!! Troy kicks out, using that long frame and those long legs to get those shoulders levered out. Vacant’s up and he immediately heads for the ropes. Snap legdrop! And he’s up again! STANDING 450! I don’t know that I’ve ever seen that truly pulled off! Worthington counts! ONE! TWO!!!! NO!!!!! Windham still forces that left shoulder up.

SB: We all saw the Troy/Eli horrorfests – Troy’s not going give up unless he’s practically unconscious.

BB: True, he may have had a reputation as “King of the Slackers” many years ago because he didn’t seem to care, but he’s made it clear what his goal is tonight.

SB: It’s not going to matter if things keep going this way.

BB: Vacant up and he pulls Troy to his feet. Whip into the ropes… Troy leapfrogs the masked man! Other side…. LARIAT!!! He just caught Vacant around the throat and both men hit the mat hard.

SB: So are the Windhams just born knowing how to throw a lariat? I mean, did Mark’s little girl shoot out of the womb and hit the doctor with one?

BB: Vacant is up first. Quick baseball slide keeps Windham down and sends him to the floor!! Vacant catches his breath just for second as he watches Troy climb to his feet outside. He grabs the ropes as leverage! PLANCHA!!! Both men go down in a heap, but Troy took the full brunt of that one. Vacant jumps up to the apron, then aims a kick at the head of Windham, sending him back down to the concrete. Worthington warns him, but he simply climbs inside and waits until the ref begins the ten-count. Troy’s still struggling to get up to his knees, let alone in the ring.

SB: Vacant’s smartly saving his energy, knowing that he’s got two matches to get through to win the title.

BB: Worthington is up to four, but it looks like Troy is going to make it back in easily, pulling himself up using the bottom rope. BASEBALL SLIDE… DDT!!! On the concrete!!! I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before!! Vacant slid under the bottom rope, and rather than hitting Troy with the dropkick, he grabbed the head, spun and slammed Windham right onto the floor!!! There’s even a pocket of fans just in front of where it happened standing and clapping!

SB: They know quality when they see it.

BB: This time, Vacant pulls Windham to his feet and rolls him inside. He’s going to try and finish things off here. Windham gets to his knees. HEEL KICK by Vacant sends him right back down in the middle of the ring. And now the masked man is headed back up top! He’s setting up for something big!

(CUEUP: “Like The Sun” by I Mother Earth)

SB: THAT DAMN HORNET!!!

BB: Vacant jumps off the top rope and gets ready for the onslaught… but there’s no sign of the former Unified Champ! Maybe someone’s playing with Vacant just like they did Hornet during their quarterfinal match!

SB: Hmmm, August de la Rossi does seem to be missing. Maybe he distracted Marvin Parsons with a Twix or something.

BB: Marvin Parsons, the CSWA’s long-time sound and lights man.

SB: The Europeans again?

BB: Exactly. Gotta catch ‘em up. Vacant heads back up top, but has too much time passed! SENTON!!! Apparently not!!! Troy tried to roll out of the way, but still took the impact. Vacant doesn’t go for the cover, he backs up..DROPKICK! Hooks the leg! ONE! TWO! NO!!!! Windham still kicks out.

SB: His new nickname should be “The Cockroach,” because he just won’t die! END IT!

BB: Vacant may have heard you… he pulls a woozy Troy up and sends him into the ropes. Troy comes across and Vacant puts him up, setting him up for a powerbomb!!! Vacant spins a bit trying to control the tall Texan… POWERBOMB!!! But Ben Worthington got hit in the head by Windham’s legs!! He’s down, so there’s no count! Vacant quickly realizes it and keeps Troy down with a legdrop to the head!

SB: Shouldn’t the man be wearing a helmet or something by now? I mean, have doctor’s checked him out? Because it’s like the wind blows hard against him and he collapses.

BB: Vacant’s keeping Troy dominated on the mat… and now he’s choking Windham out with his boot!!

SB: Troy’s kicking around like a dead carp down there!

BB: Carp?

SB: It was the first fish that came to mind. Would you prefer trout?

(Crowd pops unexpectedly! That can mean only one thing…don’t ya know?)

BB: HORNET just hopped the rail!!! You can say it again, Sammy…

SB: THAT DAMN HORNET!

BB: He rolls through, but Vacant’s ready for him! Vacant catches him with a glancing boot, but Hornet simply careens into him, knocking him off of Troy and carrying both men into the corner!!! Hornet pummeling away on the man that cost him his spot in this Final Four!

SB: By beating him fair and square!

BB: Hornet pulls Vacant out of the ropes…whips him across!!!! Vacant hits the corner hard as Hornet gets ready to charge! But Vacant actually rolled through and ends up on the apron! Hornet charges anyway!!!! THROUGH THE ROPES!!! THEY BOTH GO DOWN!! Both men hit the outside hard and they’re still throwing punches like wildfire right here on the floor in front of us!

SB: You’ve gotta love a good old fashioned brawl. Now if we can just see Hornet get a broken nose or something – that’s gotta be worth at least $5 to every fan who has paid for this thing.

BB: Both men up, but Hornet charges and slams Vacant into the apron, knocking the wind out of him, and now he throws him back into the ring! Worthington is still shaking off the effects of that double boot to the head… Troy Windham has pulled himself into a neutral corner, and Hornet rolls inside, continuing his interference in this Final Four match!

SB: Can we get him fired for his? Suspended at least? Put in a WHEEL OF DEATH match for goodness’ sakes!?

BB: Vacant with a boot to the gut, stuns Hornet. WALK UP ENZUIGIRI! He pasted Hornet with that huge kick to the back of the head! Vacant to the ropes, but Hornet dodges the legdrop! Hornet to his feet! BRAINBUSTER!!! Vacant’s down! Hold on! SCORPION!!! HE’S HOOKED IN THE SCORPION DEATHLOCK! We may not be able to see the pain on his face, but it’s etched in his body! But Worthington is pulling himself up in the corner! Hornet drops the leglock and takes a powder to the outside! He obviously doesn’t want to risk giving Vacant the win via DQ.

SB: Have I ever mentioned how much I hate that man?

BB: A few times, yes. Troy marches in to take control of this match, but Vacant catches him with a low blow!!! Worthington still didn’t see it, and Windham drops to his knees. Vacant’s climbing to his feet and goes to pull Troy up to send him… NO! CLAW!!! Windham pulls out the Iron Claw!!!

SB: It’s like they’ve been engineered with some sort of mutant DNA! Good Lord!

BB: Vacant is able to spin out of the painful maneuver, but Troy is ready!!! SLACKKNIFE !!! SLACKKNIFE!!!!! He nails Vacant with that reverse neckbreaker!!! He covers, and a groggy Worthington tried to get in position! ONE!!! TWO!!! NO!!!!! Vacant kicks out of the Slackknife and is still in this one! Troy pulls him up and maintains control of Vacant’s head. He sets him up! Standing suplex! And there’s the SLINGSHOT! He hooks the leg! ONE!!! TWO!!! NO! Still Vacant lives!

SB: First Bugbrain, and now the “King,” and it’s still not gonna be enough. Can we send Randalls down with the stake just to make it interesting!

BB: Troy hooks in the WEST TEXAS SLEEPER!

SB: Which is different from a regular sleeper how?

BB: Be nice, I could’ve called it a Weaverlock and confused all wrestling fans from the last twenty years. Troy has the sleeper hooked in on the masked man, and he’s got him standing on his tiptoes, using his height to keep Vacant from being able to get leverage. Vacant tries to wrap his arms around Windham’s head and drop him to the mat, but can’t get enough leverage. He does manage to get Troy closer to the ropes, however, and used the turnbuckles to his advantage… climbing up and flipping over to break the hold. But again Troy is ready. He hooks the head as Vacant lands! SLACKKNIFE!!! HE HIT IT AGAIN! COVER!

ONE!!!!!

TWO!!!!!

THREE!!!!! (Bell rings!)

Troy Windham is moving on to the final, and he keeps his dreams of a coronation alive!!!! And he owes the assist to Hornet, much as he did in 1996 against Guns!

SB: I’m telling you, the man’s a menace. He can’t stand not to be the center of attention. You’d think a match against Eli would be enough for him.. a chance for him to moon over Ivy some more and be a part of Flair’s retirement. But no….he can’t take a loss, so he has to screw over one more real talent, just like always!

BB: So you’re saying you don’t like Hornet?

SB: I don’t like you much either.

BB: Fans, we’ve been told that we’ve got another former CSWA World Champion in attendance tonight. As we get things cleaned up in the ring, let’s head down to the stage where Rudy Seitzer is ready to introduce him.

(CUTTO: The stage area where Rudy Seitzer's signature smile is as toothy as ever.)

RUDY: Ladies and gentlemen… EVAN AHO!

(CUE UP: “Control” - Puddle of Mudd)

(An electric crowd erupts at the sight of another former CSWA superstar and champion! The Seattle native steps out from behind the curtain wearing jeans, sandals and a plain black t-shirt. For a moment he pauses in the entryway and scans the arena as if trying to remember something. He continues out to the edge of the stage with a hint of a smile tugging at his cheek. Aho shakes Rudy’s hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, motions for his own microphone. The nearest ringcrew member obliges.)

RUDY: It’s been a long time, but it’s obvious these fans remember a former CSWA World Champion when they see one. Welcome back Evan!

AHO: Thank you. You know it’s weird to come back and actually stop to take things in. I notice all these people out here. It’s… nice.

(Another pop from the capacity crowd.)

RUDY: They’ve always noticed you Evan, despite your best efforts. However, you’ve been pretty successful about flying under the radar of this promotion. What have you been up to for the past eight months?

AHO: I took time off to let my body heal. Following the triple threat match at PRIMETIME 500, I had a full shoulder scope to help repair an old injury. There were tears in my rotator cuff that had been nagging me since mid-2002. Post-surgery, I’ve been in the gym rehabbing and training some younger wrestlers.

RUDY: So how is the recovery going?

AHO: It’s almost back to one hundred percent strength. It remains to be seen if that would hold up to a beating from Randalls, Mayfield or Radder.

RUDY: So what brings you back to Greensboro tonight? Are we looking at a return to the ring anytime soon?

AHO: Kin Hiroshi got me the front row tickets tonight, but I won’t be in the ring. I came back to watch some wrestling.

RUDY: Well then from a wrestler’s perspective why don’t you give us a rundown of the card?

(Evan chuckles a bit.)

AHO: Rudy, I’m sure there are about 30,000 fans in here who could give you a better analysis than me. But I’ll give it a go. You have a lineup?

(Seitzer shrugs but a nearby fan tosses their program into the ring. Aho waves his thanks and opens up the spread.)

AHO: In the Greensboro Championship, I like Jean Rabesque over JA. That’s obviously a style preference of mine.

Cruise versus Smallz is a tough one, but Cam’s got a lot of fight in him. I don’t know what’s in Boogie’s system. I’ll take Cruise.

Phoenix and Payne have both been working their asses off, but I like Jason Payne for the Presidential Title. He just feels due to me.

(Aho shakes his head reading down the card.)

Ivy versus Teri… Oh that’s easy. I don’t anticipate much wrestling, but I do anticipate Ivy kicking Teri’s ass. (crowd pops)

Now Radder against Hiroshi’s going to be a sweet match. I don’t know what Steve’s been up to lately, but I know Kin’s been hitting the gym hard. Sure I’m biased, but I gotta go with Kin on this one.

Alias against High Flyer… I don’t know Rudy, that’s a toss-up. I plead ignorance, the fifth, old-age… whatever. I’m not calling it.

Now the Final Four, it’s going to come down to the pairings. I don’t anticipate any match being a squash, but some guys just match up better. I don’t know Vince Jacobs all that well in the ring and I don’t think anyone knows Vacant. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not the guy under the mask.

(Rudy laughs along with many in the crowd.)

Dan Ryan is hungry but Troy Windham is a survivor. I feel like it’s going to come down to those two.

RUDY: A great analysis Evan, but you forgot one match.

AHO: Oh I didn’t forget. All due respect to Hornet, I came out tonight specifically to see Eli’s last match. He’s a guy I really respect as a professional and definitely want to be here to see a historic night for him. I’m a Flair mark.

(Huge crowd pop.)

RUDY: Well there you have it folks! Thank you for your time Evan. Ladies and gentlemen, once again, Evan Aho!

(One more generous pop from the crowd as Evan offers a wave, then climbs out of the ring and over the rail to his seat.)

BB: Fans, up next...

(Buckley pauses as the lights go out.)

(FADEIN: CSWA Auditorium. All is dark and serene as the crowd starts buzzing in anticipation for the next match...that all changes when 'In My Time of Dying' -- Black Crowes w/ Jimmy Page starts blaring over the arena. What normally would bring cheers not too many days ago, instead brings a subdued...mixed reaction. Some fans even start heading towards the restrooms as none other than the last Unified Champion himself, 'THE WOLF' MIKE RANDALLS steps out onto the gantry. No match has been scheduled for the competitor, nor has RANDALLS appeared on CSWA televisions in several weeks...or almost months? A star that once burned brightly, now a faded symbol of the past.)

BB: And well, I guess its not a total surprise, the legendary Mike Randalls *is* in attendance tonight...we haven't seen him since his loss in the first round to Alias...that was quite some time ago. With all that's been surrounding the CSWA lately, you'd think he might have taken a more proactive role in the federation -- perhaps even aiding his former friend, when Troy Windham and the Entourage cheated the man that's beaten him TWICE in a row...a feat that's never been done by the way...Alias should be out there, not Troy Windham...

SB: You can't blame Mikey for being bitter. Age is a bitter pill to swallow, and I've been chasing my down with dry vodka martinis ever since (CENSOR) and Thomas afforded me the luxury of having a rented condominium in downtown Greensboro. As far as Mikey's presence in the CSWA? The times they are a changin' Buckley, its just too bad the Drug Czar of the CSWA never kept up...that's why he can't beat Alias and that's why he's not scheduled for a match. Look at the fans, you can smell his expiration date in the air...a dead wolf smells like a dead dog.

(CUTTO:RANDALLS is dressed in street attire -- white t-shirt, comfortable blue jeans and brown cowboy boots. He brushes some of his Auburn hair away from his eyes and surveys the crowd with a furrowed brow...almost as if he's not expecting the malaise reaction...with his other hand he raises a wireless microphone to his lips...)

RANDALLS: Tonight, I stand before you as a failure and I accept this...(some fans try to disagree, but not too many) and perhaps in time, I shall be able to stand before you redeemed of my quest to regain the Unified Title. My loss to Alias (the crowd pops! RANDALLS smirks slightly - a twinge of bitterness shining through his eyes) this last time...will have consequences. For Alias to never consider the actions a man like Troy Windham would take to win that match...baffles me...(the crowd starts booing 'The Wolf,' obviously Alias converts in the house...) ...and now I know there is something I must do to overcome my difficulties in defeating him.

(The crowd boos increase a little...RANDALLS is nodding in agreement, accepting their chosen allegiance..)

SB: Someone's looking jealous! Did his lip just quiver?

BB: I hardly think Mike Randalls is the type...

SB: Its human nature, let alone animal nature...and according to Randalls' official web page -- he's BOTH.

RANDALLS: TONIGHT...(the boos dies down) because of that...in my heart, I know what concludes this night rests on MY shoulders alone. Troy Windham...Vince Jacobs...'Vacant'...Thomas...our little Internet friend...when Dan Ryan is the purest of mind that you can find in the situation, BELIEVE ME...with the rules in place...tonight's main event is one of DECEPTION. DECEIT. (the crowd starts booing! I mean c'mon, don't ruin it for the rest of us man!) LIES. SCUM...

(The crowd is booing LOUDLY...RANDALLS pauses and looks surprised at what the reaction is snowballing into...his face slightly sneers)

SB: That's what's built this federation from the start, he's ignoring the roots of this demonspawn hellhole! ...and don't think these people won't let him know it!

BB: Sammy, relax...

SB: Please, Buckley -- we've seen more gratuitous nudity than Sodom and Gomorrah, and you know Schmid could tell you he's seen worse!

RANDALLS: I hardly doubt that the Unified Title shall now be decided by nothing more honorable than a snake in the Garden of Eden...if any of you think for one moment that the integrity of the finalists or the administration should be trusted, perhaps I'm fighting for more wrong reasons than I care to know...this title is a SHAM right now, and so are most of the men competing for the right to fight for it tonight!

(The crowd against starts BOOING! RANDALLS nose twitches slightly as some fans yell at 'The Wolf' "(BLEEP) YOUR HONOR! (BLEEP) YOUR HONOR!" and wouldn't you know it...it's catching on quite quickly...RANDALLS drops the microphone with an audible thud)

BB: Well, I don't think Randalls saw this coming one bit Sammy!

SB: Oh, this is a beautful day Buckley! The man turns into a softie for the fans worldwide and they tell the bastard to take it and shove it! That's AMERICA. That's LIFE. Welcome to reality, Randalls -- I hope the drug haze didn't affect things too badly, but apparently these fans don't give a crap unless you're striking evil into their hearts and making them wonder if you can eat souls.

BB: Randalls is just leaving the stage, this crowd...well...it wouldn't be the CSWA without moments like this I suppose.

SB: I'm so giddy Buckley, I haven't felt like this since we were in Atlanta that one time and me and Rudy brought a bucket of fried chicken into this strip joint...

BB: Fans, we're going to throw you to a quick video montage on the history of the storied UNIFIED World Championship. And then, it's the last semifinal match in the FINAL FOUR!

(MUSIC CUEUP: 'Ring Superstar' a special SVJ remix by Cypress Hill – Big pop.)

(“Superstar” Vince Jacobs steps onto the top of the entrance ramp and stops cold as the CSWA Auditorium greets his appearance with a standing ovation. “What are these idiots on their feet for?” Jacobs asks himself as he contemplates turning around, trading his shot at UNIFIED glory in for an early dinner reservation. He makes two every show. One, if he doesn’t feel the vibe of humoring the masses, and the second and later reservation, after he’s performed another miracle and made their pitiful lives against all odds actually better than when they shuffled through the doors like sheep hungry for direction.

Jacobs turns, catching a montage of his performances in the CSWA to date on CSWAvision. They don’t deserve this. A well-done sirloin, sent back once to ensure perfection of course, would fulfill him more. Vince looks at his superimposed image, and sneers. The thing about answering to yourself is you’re owed seeing a half-cocked idea all the way through.

Eh. Even the poor and shameless deserve a treat.

“The Superstar” slow walks down the aisle, he’ll live to regret this, he’s sure of it.)

BB: Sammy here we go!

SB: We’re leaving? Nice. Seventeen years later, prayers are answered. I still feel cheated, but come on Buckley, let’s get before the men holding our leash change their minds.

BB: I meant here we go the second UNIFIED FINAL FOUR match-up! This one to see who faces Troy Windham in our MAIN EVENT!

SB: Maybe your MAIN EVENT, but not mine. My MAIN EVENT involves a turkey baster and ready and willing members of the US Swim Team.

BB: Men or women?

SB: What part of ‘Ready and Willing’ do you not understand?

BB: Yikes.

(Jacobs pushes Patrick Young away and creates an invisible shield between himself and the unclean masses.)

(MUSIC CUEUP: “Zero” by The Smashing Pumpkins - Huge pop.)

(“The Ego Buster” Dan Ryan busts through a wave of smoke and cheap-ass pyrotechnics. He’s heard stories of the days when Merritt and Thomas would spend recklessly on Laser Light shows, and B-movie grade explosions. Anything to sell talent nobody else wanted. Ryan stands at the bottom of the ramp, triumphantly extends his arms, and waits for the pyro to illuminate his chiseled frame. Maybe money’s tighter now, but it feels right. Waiting for fire and brimstone to sell you is an insult to how far he’s traveled this far in his career. Ryan’s accomplishments, his NAME speaks volumes. Open the gate and let the bull run like hell into the battlefield.

Ryan claps a young fan’s hand as he heads purposefully down the aisle, imagining the weight Thomas stole from his waist last summer. Make no mistake, Dan Ryan is THE CSWA World Champion. You can be rest assured, Jacobs and Windham know it.

“Why didn’t you leave?”

He’s grown tired of answering the question. As disrespected as he was by his boss, Stephen Thomas, why did Dan Ryan show up for the next date? Why stay in the CSWA?

“It’s the only place that matters,” he told Windham, but for the detractors who slam him as a sell-out behind his back, or wonder if the millions he’s earned to-date have made him weak, Dan has this answer.)

BB: Ryan charges in the ring and caves in Jacobs’ gut with a hard kick! Ryan, wailing, beating the hell out of Vince Jacobs, and the bell hasn’t even sounded!

(SFX: Ding! Ding)

SB: If we’re waiting for Rhubarb we’re moving backwards. He’s too busy pitching his reality show premise to network executives.

BB: A meaty forearm over the back of Jacob’s neck, and Vince is down to one knee! Ryan off the ropes, dropkick and Jacobs spirals back under the ropes!

SB: There’s been no love lost between these two men since this tournament started. I don’t know if it’s past history or if it’s just an instinctive dislike, like what existed between Stan Parsons and I for years.

BB: Ryan rolls out after a reeling Jacobs. To be fair this one started before Jacobs was ready, but right now, I don’t see a spark of concern for that fact in Dan Ryan’s eyes. Ryan catches him from behind and jerks him head first into the security railing!

SB: Dan Ryan is a fan’s death waiting to happen. It’s not enough the man nearly paralyzed Joey Melton. He tries to physically maim every opponent! Somebody should tell that ass, it’s sports entertainment not Thanksgiving Dinner at the Randalls’ household.

BB: Ryan with a hard right hand that rocks Jacobs. Vince teeters back, but the fans in the front row keep him upright.

SB: What is it with this country’s fascination with touching sweaty, grown men? More to the point, what is it with your son Billy’s?

BB: Waistlock, and Ryan’s going for a GERMAN SUPLEX! No! Kick to the groin by Jacobs!

SB: I think that’s actually on the wrestling bar exam. Kick to the groin. Wrestling’s equivalent of “Hello” in any language.

BB: Elbow to Ryan’s jaw! Jacobs walks away from Ryan, what’s going on here? Is he quitting?

SB: I would, but then I give up easily.

BB: Jacobs has a security officer, and he’s pointing to a fan…

SB: Brilliant! Buckley I think he’s asking for a section of fans to be removed!

(Ryan rolls back into the ring as Jacobs argues with the security officer.)

BB: Why? He has no authority to do that.

VINCE JACOBS: I don’t wrestle until those idiots are air lifted back to the shanties they drove from. You copy?

SB: Buckley he’s upset at the unclean who dared touch him! I love it! I’ve long said we need protective glass from the humanoids. Come on, tell me you don’t leave here and show five times before you go to bed.

(Ryan jumps over the ropes behind Jacobs, spins him around and rocks him with a left hook.)

BB: Jacobs is going to have to start this match, whether he wants to or not, or risk losing! Ryan whips Jacobs into the security failing, AGAIN! And AGAIN the fans are holding Jacobs from going over!

SB: We’re gonna need more security. Where’s Gethard? Somebody tell that idiot to put down “Raising Unicorns for Dummies” and to get out here and clear out the area.

BB: Vince just decked a fan! Jacobs climbing into the first section of the auditorium and he’s beating the tar out of CSWA FANS!

SB: Dear goodness. “The Superstar” is like my own personal Rosa Parks. Gimme a scrap of black paper, Buckley.

BB: Ryan inverted DDT over the railing! Jacobs’ neck may have snapped! Paper?

(Security helps Jacobs gingerly back over the railing, as fans scramble.)

SB: Because I need to get a sketch of the gold “Superstar” statue I have in mind, while it’s fresh.

BB: Ryan’s setting up the ring steps. This is for a spot in the UNIFIED FINALS later tonight. No double count out Sammy.

SB: Good, save Patrick Young’s job. Give the man an excuse for not counting.

BB: Jacobs to his feet, barely. Ryan leaps off the ring steps, clothesline attempt, NO! He’s caught in mid-air…POWERSLAM BY JACOBS! Some initiative from Jacobs at last.

(Vince darts at the security officer, attempting to wrestle the gun out of it’s holster.)

BB: Good grief, Jacobs has a gun!!

SB: It won’t be the first time someone’s been murdered on a PPV. Kid learns quick.

BB: Thank heavens, the gun is taken away, but he’s got the Cop’s NIGHTSTICK! What’s this maniac doing!

(Jacobs starts beating the fire out of Ryan with the night stick.)

SB: He’s evening the playing field, Buckley! That’ll teach Ryan to start BEFORE the opening bell. Really, what happened to sportsmanship? Fair play?

BB: Like you care about either one. Jacobs choking Ryan with the nightstick, as he sits over him! Come on Young!

SB: You just anointed the man for Sainthood a minute ago for NOT doing his job. Now you want Patrick in the mix, with a set?

BB: Jacobs up and threatening some fans with the weapon! Come on, now.

SB: They’re like dogs, Buckley. You have to tap their noses hard when they go on Daddy’s good rug. Part of being a Superstar is being an animal trainer as well. Enjoy the discipline Jacobs is instilling tonight.

(Vince drives the stick into Ryan’s right knee. Dan screams out in pain.)

SB: Maybe by the end of the year he’ll have this welfare hicks dressing well, and bringing me pints of beer.

BB: I’m not buying that for a second…Jacobs throws the former World Heavyweight Champion forcefully into the ring steps!

(SFX: THUD!)

BB: This has turned into a brawl, fairly quickly.

SB: Which is bad news for Dan Ryan. Jacobs’ Rookie trading card says he once killed a grisly bear in Canadian with his bare hands, AND cleared his Aunt’s closet of disembodied evil spirits.

(Jacobs shoves Ryan under the ropes and back into the ring.)

SB: I think we’ve finally signed the CSWA’s first true Renaissance Man. Color me excited.

BB: Jacobs in the ring, and he clotheslines Ryan, nightstick still in hand! A jab at Dan’s keen again! Ryan’s in trouble, Sammy!

SB: Why are you telling me? What am I supposed to do? Slip behind a phone booth and morph into a sober human being with a heart?

BB: STARS IN THE SKY! An inverted spinning DDT! Jacobs in full control of the second final four match. The cover, ONE…TWO….NO! Ryan’s up. Jacobs presses down harder on Ryan’s shoulders. ONE…TWO…..NO!

(Jacobs shoots to his feet and gets in Young’s face.)

VINCE JACOBS: Illiterate little man! 1…2..3! You try now!

BB: Short elbow drop by Jacobs. ANOTHER cover. ONE….TWO….NO! Dan Ryan’s not going out that easily, and “The Superstar” is livid.

(Vince hatefully grabs Young by the shirt collar. Ryan shifts to his knees, then as he has his bearings, feet.)

BB: GROIN SHOT from Ryan! Dan just sunk to one knee, reached in and hammered Jacobs’…

SB: Meat and two Veg?

BB: Yes!

(Vince doubles over, holding his groin. So does Patrick Young. Ryan mistakenly got’em both.)

BB: Ryan GERMAN SUPLEX!! Listen to this place, Sammy!

(HUGE pop.)

(Ryan notices Young is cowering from a nut shot, and Dan smiles.)

BB: GERMAN SUPLEX ON PATRICK YOUNG!

SB: Why the heck not? Dan Ryan for once plays it well.

BB: Ryan with the night stick in hand! Bar the door, Katie!

(Dan drives the weapon into the small of Jacobs’ back. Then sits down on him and returns the favor, choking Vince out.)

BB: Look at Jacobs! He’s going to tap!

SB: What good it’ll do. Young’s with Willy Wonka in Neverland.

(Jacobs somehow makes it to his feet, carrying Ryan on his back. Dan still choking him with the nightstick.)

BB: Jacobs throws himself into the corner! Ryan hits hard, but still hangs on!!

(CLOSE-UP: Vince Jacobs’ red face. Vince rolls his eyes, as if to tire of Ryan needing a clue.)

(He grabs the nightstick with both hands, springs forward, flipping Ryan over his back. With Ryan down, Jacobs slaps the nightstick out of the ring. ‘Nuff of that.)

BB: Vince Jacobs gasping for air. But he’s staying on the offensive. Hops to the middle turnbuckle. Jacobs off the middle turnbuckle, SPINNING DDT! But RYAN RIGHT BACK UP! Dan to the opposite middle turnbuckle! Jacobs doesn’t see him!

(Vince spits at the front row of fans, and sarcastically grins. When Jacobs turns…)

BB: SPINNING DDT BY RYAN!! Double underhook piledriver! The cover, ONE….TWO……Vince is out at 2 and a half! What a quick series of moves there by both men!

(Big Pop.)

SB: Exactly. Let these two idiots beat the hell out of each other before facing “The Boy Troy”. Troy Windham will wipe the mat with one of the two in under three minutes.

BB: Dan dragging a lifeless Jacobs to his feet, and he buries a right hand right in “The Superstar’s” gut!

(Ryan backs Jacobs into the ropes then slings him across the ring.)

BB: Flying dropick! Dan up fast, off the near ropes, SPRINGBOARD LEG DROP!

SB: This thought just occurred to me.

BB: Oh no. Ryan climbing to the top turnbuckle!

SB: Ryan’s a warrior and all, but he’s a pretty ugly guy. He needs a valet. Who’s that slut I saw him with earlier backstage?

BB: Alaina Troy? Ryan setting up for…can it be? A MOONSAULT! No! Jacobs out of the way JUST in time. Let’s see if that takes the wind out of Jacobs’ sails, just a bit.

SB: Alaina Troy, thank you. Yes…she’s a nice piece of tail. Get her out here in a Dominatrix outfit, screaming obscenities at Ryan. Now that’s booking.

BB: Ryan sent off the ropes, Jacobs catches with a SLEEPER!

SB: A glorified choke. But, I’m not complaining. That move enabled me to have sex in high school.

BB: Oh geez.

SB: What?

BB: Ryan’s struggling to stay conscious! (Crowd starts stomping their feet.) Young, back with the living, checks on Dan.

(Patrick lifts Dan’s left arm, and it drops harmlessly to his side.)

SB: Aw, memories. I miss the old school, Buckley.

BB: I bet. Jacobs, bleeding from the nose a little, tightens the screws. Ryan’s out Sammy.

(Young checks Ryan a second time, again his arm falls limp.)

CROWD: Ryan! Ryan! Ryan!

BB: Dan’s stirring!

(Inverted DDT by Jacobs.)

BB: FALLING STAR!

SB: Well, he WAS stirring. Put a cork in this one Jacobs, I need a drink before Cameron Cruise walks out here and kills the show.

BB: ONE….TWO….TH-NO! Ryan with his left shoulder up! The man who had the World belt wrongly taken away from him, is a match from the finals! What a night it’d be if Dan Ryan walked out of here with the World bet back around his waist.

SB: Oh yeah, Buckley, grown men would cry, I’m sure of it.

(Quick spinning sit-down powerbomb)

BB: The Ego Check! A vicious move, and Ryan’s rocked. Vince Jacobs looking to write his own history at CSWA17. “The Superstar” to the top turnbuckle, his back turned to Ryan! Asai Moonsault, maybe Sammy? A devastating move if he can pull it off.

SB: A reason there is a season. You have to love a man who names the offensive.

(As Jacobs gets ready to let fly, a fan chucks a drink at him, hitting Vince squarely in the chest.)

BB: That’s classless. Some fan just took matters into his own hands. Gregg, get that idiot out of here.

(Jacobs is shaking, wanting to leap down and attack the creep, but he’s invested in the match now. He knows, he’s too close to screw around.)

BB: Vince setting up! Dan to his feet!

(Ryan’s shaky, but leaps for the ropes, bringing his full weight over the top rope, shaking the ring and causing Jacobs to lose balance, fall, and rack himself over the turnbuckle.)

(Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh Pop from the fans.)

BB: Desperation move from the former World champion, the “Ego Buster” Dan Ryan! But it worked! Jacobs is slowed.

SB: I imagine he will be from the night. Apparently Ryan’s new finisher is, “Rip nuts from skin.”

BB: Ryan walking to the corner, and climbing up behind Jacobs!

(Fans stand and lose their minds.)

BB: Ryan on the top rope, carefully positioning Vince Jacobs. What’s the Houston native, the six-foot seven inch beast, have in store here?

SB: Nice overdramatic sell…

BB: GERMAN SUPLEX FROM THE TOP ROPE!! GERMAN SUPLEX FROM THE TOP ROPE!

(Ryan rolls over Jacobs as the fans rock the house.)

BB: Into a bridge, pin attempt!! Good grief!

CROWD CHANTS: (as Young counts) ONE…………

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

TH-OHHHHHHHHHH!

(Jacobs shoulder up an inch.)

BB: So close! Sooooo close for Dan Ryan! How did “The Superstar” find a way out there? Dan not done! Ryan leaping to the top rope, SPLIT-LEGGED MOONSAULT!

SB: Even I have to admit, Buckley…damn, that was nice.

BB: The cover again! ONE….TWO…..AND 3 QUARTERS! Jacobs unbelievably is up!

(Ryan on his knees, looks at Jacobs and shakes his head, impressed.)

SB: Go get the gun Ryan. Vince had the right idea. That’s what it’s going to take to advance tonight.

BB: Ryan undeterred is heading BACK to the top turnbuckle!

(Ryan tired from his offensive spurt, slowly climbs the ropes.)

BB: I don’t know what he has left, but sooner or later Jacobs can’t kick out. Can he Sammy?

(A chill blows through the ring, and Jacobs on cue rolls over, willing himself to his knees.)

SB: First man to the gun. That’s my call.

(Jacobs leaps to his feet, he’s unsteady, but he manages to fall over the top rope, causing Ryan to lose HIS balance and rack himself over the top turnbuckle.)

(BIG pop.)

BB: Anything you can do, I can do better! What a match this has turned into it! And it’s only the second of the night! These two men STILL have to fight again in the MAIN EVENT!

SB: One of them does, Buckley. The other goes back to the drawing board.

BB: JACOBS SUPERKICK ACROSS RYAN’S JAW! Dan’s half-way off the turnbuckle, but he’s hanging on for dear life! A fall from there to the floor, at this point in the match would be the final nail.

SB: I disagree. Somebody shove Ryan off and let’s prove who’s right.

BB: Jacobs climbing the turnbuckle, and hooking Ryan’s arm. I’d hesitate to guess what’s coming here. But its Vince now looking to move to the finals. BLOCK BY RYAN! BLOCK BY RYAN! Jacobs can get him up and over. KNEE TO THE LEFT TEMPLE!

(Jacobs rocks back)

BB: Ryan with a SECOND KNEE TO THE LEFT TEMPLE OF JACOBS! Now he’s setting up a move…WHAT THE HELL?

(Fans on their feet. Those sitting, leap up. High-fives to the person next to you. This is ANNIVERSARY! They love it.)

BB: RYAN’S GOT HIM UP, ohhhhhhhhhhh! HUMILITY BOMB FROM THE TOP ROPE! HUMILITY BOMB FROM THE TOP ROPE! Holy Crap!

(CLOSE-UP – Jacobs’ eyes roll back in his head.)

(The Auditorium is bedlam. Chants of C-S-W-A. C-S-W-A! Ryan pumps his fist to the fans, then covers.)

SB: If Jacobs gets up from this, I’ll shoot him myself.

BB: (Young covers) ONE………TWO000000000000000000…

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

(Delirious scene in the Auditorium as Ryan wins!)

BB: Dan Ryan has won it!

(Ryan leaps to his feet and poses for the fans.)

SB: One hell of a fight, I’ll give the man that, but in less than three hours he has to come out here and fight TROY WINDHAM! The man who broke every bone in his body in ’01 but did not say “I Quit.” Buckley, Ryan can’t win. You know that, as well as I.

BB: Oh come off it, Sammy.

(Ryan rolls out of the ring. Tired, but ecstatic. One win closer to his goal.)

SB: IT’S TROY WINDHAM!

BB: Dan Ryan’s arguably THE greatest wrestler in the sport today, Sammy! The man’s been in wars before in-ring. With two hours to recover, he’ll be fine, I can promise you that! Fans it’s Dan Ryan and Troy Windham IN OUR MAIN EVENT! I can’t wait.

SB: Well, you’re going to have to. Right now we have to pay Seizter’s enormous, and undeserved salary. That’s right commercials on PPV! (Benson laughs) ALL HAIL PRESIDENT THOMAS!

(CUT TO: Troy Windham, in the back, before his own CSWA17 CORONATION OF A KING banner, sweat dripping off his brow, having just defeated Vacant minutes before.)

TROY: (huffing and puffing) I told EVERYONE. I told THE WORLD that tonight... tonight was going to be THE NIGHT I cemented my legacy in this promotion. In this league. ON THIS PLANET. Tonight was going to be the night were Troy Windham... The Epitome of Professional Wrestling... BECAME THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME. I'm one match away from fulfilling my destiny of becoming the man who SAVED this promotion... AGAIN. I'm one match away from becoming the UNIFIED WORLD Champion. I'm one match away from being crowned... KING. I said I would do it and everything I say... IS GOSPEL. Tonight I'm the man who OPENED THE SHOW... and tonight I'm going to be the man who ENDS THE SHOW. (Troy walks off.)

With a few keystrokes, the next clue had been set up. Granted, it wouldn’t show up for the masses until HACKER THURSDAY, but it never hurt to be a little early. Hell, it might be a welcome change for the CSWA.

Three years in the making. Three years working to crack the CS Enterprises Internal Network and gather the pieces of information needed. To wait for Merritt to make one slipup. And then, just as everything was almost in place, that buffoon Thomas had showed up. Merritt went into lockdown, moving money into secure bank accounts and stashing it all across the world, just so Thomas couldn’t get his hands on it.

But what’s one more delay after waiting so long? What’s one plot shift when you’re the one writing the story?

And it didn’t hurt that it led to a junior partner that could be trusted. That had reason to hate Thomas as much as anyone.

What they thought of as the beginning had really just been opening a window to let the masses see in, to let them appreciate the humiliation of Thomas. It had been so easy to get past Marvin and rig the lights with an extra dimmer control. To sneak under the truck and put in one extra relay that would allow him extra control. It has been so easy.

(PRIMETIME in San Diego – April 25, 2005)

And then there was darkness.

"What the h--? Hold on just a second folks, looks like there's a technical problem. Who back there leaned on the switch?"

The crowd chuckles but some of the surprised screams continue. It's not just lights out, it's DARK. People scream out of fear, or to be funny, or because the dirty teenage slob next to them just put a hand where it shouldn't be. You can hear, feel, the crowd tense.

For Rhubarb, it's disaster. What will the cameramen do when it comes time to find the happy faces in the crowd? More importantly, what will they do with no power --

There's an audible surge as everything comes back on. Three seconds to spare!

"Here we go! Three! Two! One!"

The cameras are on, the music kicks in, but the screens are... rebooting? That can't be right. Monitors don't 'reboot,' they're on or they're off. But either way, something's up with the screens. It's not PRIMETIME, it's....

Initializing...
Finding CSWA version ?
DELETE Shane Southern
DELETE Craig Miles
DELETE Eddie Mayfield
DELETE Joey Melton
DELETE Chad Merritt
INSERT Stephen Thomas

Processing...
File corrupted.
66.34.139.220
INSERT haX0r

Processing...
Changes accepted.
Change is good.
Change is necessary.
Change.

HELLO STEPHEN

The CSWA PRIMETIME logo finally appears on the screen after six seconds of strangeness.

BB: Folks its time for the Cameron Cruise/Boogie Smallz match with little Mattie Cundiff suspended 40 feet above the ring in a steel cage.

SB: I don’t know what to make of this kid. He first came out as a Make A Wish kid and fulfilled a lifelong dream of wanting to manage Shamon. I’m sorry…but if I was dying and I got a last request…it wouldn’t be to spend time with that freak! At least, not unarmed.

BB: Well as we saw the events unfold, Cundiff was luring Shamon into a false sense of security. It was all a setup to give Cameron Cruise the advantage and to embarrass Shamon. It worked. While Shamon was trying to get an equalizer to defend himself…Mattie Cundiff tosses him a can of Pepsi.

SB: He knew Shamon’s weakness and exploited it. Smart kid. Everyone knows about the hair incident Michael Jackson had during his Pepsi commercial shoot and Shamon was too concerned with his hair to think about Cruise creeping up behind him and getting the victory.

BB: Lets go to Rhubarb Jones for introductions.

RJ: From Jacksonville, North Carolina…accompanied to the ring by little Mattie Cundiff…here is CAMERON CRUUUUUUUUISSSSSSSE!

BB: Cruise appears to be all business tonight. Mattie Cundiff looks a little worried as he stares up at the ceiling of the CSWA Auditorium.

SB: The little guy looks like he might lose his lunch. I felt like that earlier this morning. I shouldn’t have slammed down so many shots of Cuervo.

RJ: And his opponent…hailing from Brooklyn, New York. (“Black Superman” by Above The Law pumps through the arena sound system.) Standing 6’9” and weighing in at 148 kilos…BOOOOOOOGIE SMAAAAALLLLLLZZZZZZ!

SB: I can’t stand this guy.

BB: Get over it -- we have a match to call.

SB: Did you hear him call Mattie Cundiff a “walking tumor”? The man should be pimp-slapped for that! The boy is dying and Boogie doesn’t give a damn!

BB: Well maybe you and Marlo Thomas can team up on the next Saint Jude’s commercial. I never knew you were so passionate about something.

SB: Sure. I give all my old suits to Goodwill.

BB: I’m sure they appreciate your old leisure suits.

SB: I drop change in the buckets of many a Santa standing in front of department stores through the holidays.

BB: That’s just to get them to stop ringing their bell.

SB: I donate plasma to the Red Cross from time to time.

BB: That’s only when you run out of booze money.

SB: Look here, Buckley. You don’t have to discredit my contributions to the community. I CARE…DAMNIT! Maybe not as much with people born with a working heart, but I care!

BB: Mattie is giving Cruise a hug before he gets locked in that cage. The little guy seems scared. He’s pleading with the referee not make him get inside the cage. The referee isn’t listening to a word of it.

SB: Give the kid the benefit of the doubt. I am sure in that last match he was involved with…he was just trying to help Shamon quench his thirst.

BB: Cundiff is in the cage and Cruise turns his attention to Boogie. Cameron is in the ring and Boogie steps out to harass Mattie in the cage. He has a lit blunt and is blowing smoke at Cundiff.

SB: Has it occurred to you Buckley, that we’re the only company that willingly puts a cancer patient in a small cage and suspends it thirty-five feet in the air for ten to fifteen minutes? I know it’s CSWA17, but let’s not lose sight of the fact that a new low has been reached. Cancer kids hung like pinatas. Where’s Martha Burke? What’s more important, seeing Michelle Wie get a gift wrapped Masters invitation, or roasting the CSWA for exploiting cancer patients?

BB: Priorities. Makes you think, huh? Cundiff is coughing uncontrollably and the cage is beginning to rise up into the rafters. Boogie waves goodbye to Mattie and turns to Cruise, looking down from the ring. Boogie gives a mean stare at Cruise. Cameron just flipped off Boogie and hits the ropes…BASEBALL SLIDE DROPKICK to Boogie on the floor!

SB: Yeah…that’s how it done, son. Take it to that no good thug! If Mattie Cundiff falls to his death, Buckley, I wanna see you argue that the civil rights movement was a winner.

BB: Smallz smacked up against the guardrail and Cruise capitalizes on it. He follows it up with a double-axehandle off of the apron. Smallz hits the ground and Cruise is putting the boots to him.

(Cut to a shot of Mattie in the cage celebrating. The cage begins to sway and he gets scared.)

SB: That poor defenseless child is locked in a cage. It reminds me too much of my childhood. I’m glad they now have laws that discourage this type of treatment. All these old emotions are stirring up…I need a drink.

BB: Cruise lifts Smallz to his feet and shoves him in the ring. Cruise climbs onto the apron and executes a slingshot legdrop onto Boogie!

SB: He said he kicked Boogie’s ass before and he would do it again…I would say he’s doing a darn good job of that at the moment.

BB: Cruise lifts Boogie to his knees and slaps him across the face. Uh oh! Boogie looks wild-eyed from the slap. Cruise throws a punch and another. Boogie shakes off the effects and gets to his feet. Cruise backs off, but doesn’t get enough distance and gets a boot to the groin.

SB: I think he’s gonna puke!

BB: Boogie grabs Cruise by the hair and levels him with a hard right hand slap across the face! That looked like something out of Goodfellas! Boogie is pissed off!

SB: To hell with him, he deserved everything he got.

BB: Smallz whips Cruise into the ropes and nails him with a big boot. Cruise rolls out to the floor to recuperate and doesn’t give him the chance. He follows him to the floor and immediately hits him with combinations of rights and lefts.

SB: Boogie lifts Cruise up in the gorilla press position and slams him onto the timekeeper’s table! That’s illegal!

BB: Boogie is fired up and this crowd is loving it! The table didn’t break, so Boogie is now choking the life out of Cruise. Cam is looking for something…anything that might free him from this choke.

SB: His fingers are near the bell. He’s reaching…he’s reaching…HE GOT IT! Cruise bashes it over Boogie head and knocks the big man off of him. Look at Mattie…he is trying to get Cam’s attention.

BB: Cundiff has a chain! He’s trying to make sure Cruise is under the cage so he can get it. Cruise regains his senses and sees what is going on. Mattie drops the chain…WHO IS THAT!?

SB: It’s Shamon! He slides in and tackles Cruise. The chain is in the mat and Shamon goes for it. He is wrapping it around his shiny sequence glove. Now he is dancing?

BB: Shamon is the ultimate showman. He grabs his crotch and then does a stutter step. He runs his hands through his hair and then the other. Cruise is behind Shamon and doesn’t look too pleased with the man from Motown.

SB: Cam taps Shamon on the shoulder. The Gloved One turns around and meets the left hook of the Crippler. The chain flies out of his hand and on the mat. Cruise stands Shamon to his feet…SHIPWRECK!

BB: Cameron now goes for the chain. He’s wrapping it around his right hand…wait…no he isn’t. He can’t seem to get it in place…it appears to be slipping around.

SB: It was from Shamon’s little dance routine. He rubbed his hands through his hair while the chain was on his hand…he lubricated it! Sicko!

BB: Boogie is now climbing into the ring. Cruise takes a swing and does it with so much velocity, that the chain flies out of his hand. Boogie blocks it and hits Cam with a headbutt to the face! Cruise is stunned and Smallz goes for the chain. He grabs the end of it and wipes the rest of the chain off with his shirt…getting rid of the Activator that Shamon infected it with.

SB: Infected? He is an infection. Fuh-reek.

BB: Boogie now taking the chain in his hand…having no trouble controlling it. He rears back and clobbers Cruise with it. Wait a sec…Mattie Cundiff is out of the cage!

(CLOSE-UP: Little Mattie standing outside of the cage door, holding onto to the bars for dear life.)

SB: The chain shot didn’t put Cruise away. He is climbing up to his feet, he gets behind Smallz and rolls him. ONE…TWO…Smallz up.

BB: Forget the match, we’ve got a 12 year-old cancer patient hanging by a thread!

SB: This is good. The kid’s wearing a Livestrong bracelet. Let’s see if Lance Armstrong flies in to save him. You know, he can hear cries from cancer patients a thousand mile away.

BB: Oh shut up. If that kids falls we’re all out of jobs!

(Cruise body slams Boogie, bounces off the ropes, then drops a headbutt on a fallen Smallz.)

SB: I see. That’s the real crime here. A “Make A Wish” kid dies, and the tragedy is you have to go back to school to learn a trade.

BB: Hey, I used to read the weather into a camera.

SB: Let me know how that works out for you.

(Cruise whips Smallz into the ropes, knocking Shamon back down who was on the apron. Boogie leapfrogs Cruise, then hits him with a flying forearm!)

BB: Boogie with a quick cover, but I’m sorry Sammy…I’m a little preoccupied with that POOR KID dangling above the ring! And so are these fans here in Greensboro!

CROWD: Jump! Jump! Jump!

SB: What? You thought putting a kid in a suspended small cage was a stroke of genius? When we retire Buckley, they’ll show a highlight package of our years here in corporate training centers as sensitivity training videos. “Here’s what happens when you tell a co-worker, ‘nice ass’.” “This is what happens when you pay cancer patients to shimmy up A/C vents."

BB: Mattie Cundiff looks horrified! Somebody get that cage down!

SB: Yeah, Buckley wants to save his job. Personally, I’m still hoping Armstrong feels a disturbance in the force and makes the big save. I tell ya, they should hire me to do PR for some of these people.

BB: Boogie Smallz just took off his left boot and THREW IT AT CUNDIFF! That’s not right!

SB: What is in this company? I told you Smallz was an idiot. The fool thinks he’s at a carnival. A CHILD’S POTENTIAL DEATH IS NOT A GAME!

BB: Dropkick to Boogie’s back by Cruise! And now for the first time, Cruise sees Mattie in trouble!

SB: He’s not the most observant creature, is he? I bet he’s a heartbreaker on birthdays and anniversaries.

BB: Cameron’s waving to Mattie, he wants the kid to jump in his arms! Mattie won’t do it, he’s still terrified!

SB: What’s the scouting report on Cruise? For all we know the idiot may not even be able to catch a cold.

CROWD: Jump! Jump! Jump!

BB: Cameron pleading with Mattie to trust him! Come on, little Mattie! Jump! Jummppppppppp!

SB: Okay, 1) why not just lower the cage? 2) You realize you’re now on record as imploring a 12 year-old cancer kid to potentially jump to his untimely death? Nice Buckley. Yeah, I’m sure they’ll find a place for you at WXII.

BB: Cundiff..Mattie’s going to do it!

SB: Yay! He’s empowered by twenty-three thousand people shouting at his ass to jump.

BB: Mattie…JUMPS! HE’S IN THE AIR!

SB: Lannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnce.

(Mattie flies into the ring, as the cage drops and crashes behind him. Cruise reaches for him desperately trying to save his little friend. Mattie reaches Cruise, accidentally dropkicking Cruise. Cameron stagers back, as Mattie amazingly catches the ropes and saves himself.)

BB: DROPKICK BY MATTIE??

CROWD: HE’S HARDCORE! HE’S HARDCORE!

BB: Cruise stumbles back, INTO BOOGIE’S WAITING ARMS! INVERTED DDT!!! Worthington covers, ONE……

(Crowd counts with him.)

BB: TWOOOOOOOOO……….THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

(SFX: DING! DING!)

BB: Boogie Smallz has just beaten Cameron Cruise!

SB: And you know, Buckley, more importantly Little Mattie Cundiff is A-OKAY!

(CUTTO: Cundiff kissing the mat, overjoyed.)

SB: Granted, we’re going to be up to our elbows in lawsuits after tonight for this, but in the end, the mistreatment of a small child, the complete lack of respect for cancer, another curious booking of Cameron Cruise, it all just adds up to good theater. Well-done.

BB: Boogie mocking Cruise and Cundiff! Smallz victorious here at REBIRTH! Taking another big step in his push for respect and major singles titles.

SB: We’ve had a near death experience. It’s o-fish-ally ANNIVERSARY now.

Ryan: "One down......one to go."

"It was all a matter of time really. Ever since Stephen Thomas decided to throw his weight around I've been a man in search of redemption. The baseless accusations, the insinuations, the blatant stripping of a title I earned in the ring."

"Almost a year ago now, you blatantly stole from me Thomas."

"You took what no one else could earn in the ring."

"You underestimated me, and for that mistake you've paid a small price."

"In just a few moments while you remain distracted by this....hacker. While your mind is on other things, I take my place among the greats one more time. I show you, show everyone what I'm made of."

"There's no man in the world who I would fear to stand face to face with in a straight up fight. Not Mark Windham two years ago, not you when you overstepped common sense, and not Troy Windham tonight."

"I've taken step one already - only the Epitome remains."

"And Troy, won't it be nice to finally remove all doubt? Won't it be nice to finally know if you're more than the slacker? If the Slacknife is more than just a cute name for the finisher of a gimmick?"

"I've never been more focused, more prepared or more eager to rip someone's head off in my entire life, Troy. I've never been more ready to be exactly who I was meant to be all along. This has been a joke to you all week long,
but I knew it would be you standing across from me in the finals."

"There's just no way you're getting out of this one in one piece, Troy...."

"There's just no way...."

Ryan turns slightly and looks over his shoulder, head tilted slightly down - into the camera...

"Time's up."

FADE OUT....

(An on-screen fight logo is shown, with the CSWA17 logo written on the bottom, dead center. On the left is the former tSC/ACW Heavyweight Champion, Alias, standing in a pair of blue jeans with his arms crossed. On the right is the tA/21w Immortal Champion, High Flyer, sledgehammer hanging off of his right hand as the Immortal Title is raised above his head, just covering the end part of the words “UNIFIED Top Contenders Match.” Flyer’s lips are parted just slightly, his tongue petruding with a devilish grin. Alias, stern as ever, seems to be staring through your SOUL. SOUL BABY.)

(FADE OUT: INSERT VIDEO PACKAGE: High Flyer MOWS over Cameron Cruise with his Locomotive, hand raised. Alias nails Mike Randalls with the A-BOMB! BOMB BABY BOMB! Alias and Flyer speaking backstage is briefly shown, as Flyer and Dan Ryan then battle on the outside to a countout. Troy Windham stuffs Alias’ face with knockout gas and suffers his loss from the tournament, as we cut to Flyer being powerbombed out of the ring and through an announce table. Both men down at their lowest hour… but each with a chance with redemption… but who will fall even lower than they are?)

(CUT TO: WIDE SHOT: The CSWA Auditorium, sold out, packed to the rafters. Most people are quietly muttering, wondering what’s next. But wonder no more, unless you don’t know entrance music well. Which could be a possibility. It’s not like I know what music Scotty 2 Hotty’s using these days. But I do know what music Alias’ uses…)

(CUEUP: “Sympathy for the Devil” by the Rolling Stones, who are NOT one hit wonders, if you were wondering if they were… which they aren’t. Alias walks out from the backstage area, eyes dead pan, serious, but with a hint of sorrow. It doesn’t help to be wrestling for a shot at something you should have full rights to as it is.)

Rhubarb Jones: This next match, is the scheduled Number One Contendership Match! It is scheduled for one fall and has a thirty minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from San Francisco, California…

SB: Is he gay?

BB: Shut up Buckley.

SB: It’s a serious question!

Rhubarb Jones: Weighing in at a brisk two hundred and fifty two pounds, he is the Spirit of 2004, the Original Pulp Hero… former ACW and tSC Heavyweight Champion… ALIAS!

BB: Here he comes, the Original Pulp Hero, the Tin Angel, the Spirit of 2004…

SB: The guy with too many nicknames…

BB: I still had four more listed on this sheet. Regardless, he’s got another one. The man that was cheated out of his Unified Final Four appearance!

SB: It’s not Windham’s fault he’s so damn smart.

BB: But who suffers Sammy. It’s the victim. And if anyone has it written on their chest, it’s Alias.

SB: But he’s got his name tattooed there… I think it’s so he doesn’t forget it.

(CUT TO: WIDE SHOT: Arena covered in darkness. Lights begin to flash, whether they be short term camera flashes or lighters being ignited in numerous fire code violations. A light snowfall begins to drop from the ceiling as “Loco” by Coal Chamber begins its opening chords. At its apex, white pyro shoots out from the rampway, reilluminating the arena. Standing directly behind it, sledgehammer and Immortal Title in tow, is High Flyer. He takes a few steps down the entrance rampway, places the Immortal Championship over his shoulder, and slaps a few hands on his way. Alias, inside the ring, never breaks the stare he began at his opponent, even though these are two are anything but enemies…)

Rhubarb Jones: And his opponent, hailing from Los Angeles, California, he weighs in at a light two hundred four and one quarter pounds! He is a former IWO Heavyweight, fWo United States and Internet Champion! He is the Neighborhood Lunatic… High Flyer!

BB: And here comes the Neighborhood Lunatic… with his single alias… High Flyer.

SB: What’s up with this snow?

BB: Well, Flyer used to sell snow for a living.

SB: You mean we’re letting cocaine drop from the rafters? God are we rich.

BB: No, actual snow. You know, white purly stuff that can occasionally turn yellow.

SB: Oh, that’s way less controversial. I don’t know why my mind went straight to drugs.

BB: That’s the joke. I’d imagine.

(Flyer slides into the ring underneath the bottom rope and bounces to his feet. He lays the sledgehammer in the corner before climbing the buckles and raising his Immortal Championship high in a diagonal.)

(CENTER OF THE RING: Referee Patrick Young brings Alias and then Flyer into the center of the ring to explain the rules, as if they weren’t long term veterans of the ring. He checks Alias, and then Flyer, before signaling to the time keeper to ring the bell. Flyer smiles toward Alias’ cold demeanor, and then extends his hand for a shake. Alias slaps it in a sign of acknowledgement, but this is for a shot at the Unified Title… so don’t trust anyone, especially a Lunatic.)

BB: And here we go! The first ever one on one encounter between Alias and High Flyer. They’ve only fought once before, in the confines of a triple threat match with Black Quicksilver over the fWo World Heavyweight Championship.

SB: So set your VCR’s. Wait, no, don’t set your VCR’s, that’s piracy and you should be ashamed of yourself. Ha, I almost got you. We don’t care.

(Alias and Flyer begin to circle one another, before Alias tosses his hand up for a test of strength. Flyer points and laughs.)

FLYER: You’re like, fifty pounds heavier than me. What am I, stupid?

(Alias shrugs his shoulders and pounces into a collar and elbow tie up. Flyer grabs Alias’ arm and attempts an arm wringer, but Alias clutches palm to palm and begins to grasp, forcing Flyer into his test of strength. Flyer falls to his knees, and then baseball slides in between Alias’ legs, forcing him to break his grasp. The Pulp Hero turns around and sees the Lunatic racing off the other side. Alias drops his head but Flyer flips his back onto Alias, grabs his arms, rolls around and drops him into a back slide. It only gets a quick one, as he rolls back onto his feet. Flyer recovers, and Alias takes him down with a quick clothesline to the throat. The Pulp Hero doesn’t even let Flyer have time to hit the mat, as he drops down immediately with a forearm shot, aimed at Flyer’s formerly injured ribs.)

BB: Alias is looking to target those broken ribs of Flyer’s, but they’ve been healed for a month now.

SB: Like broken bones ever really heal.

BB: Yes. They do. It’s called medicine.

(Alias drops his knee across Flyer’s ribs, and then lifts him up in a blockbuster slam position. When Alias tosses Flyer, Flyer hooks Alias’ arm with his hands so only his legs swing behind the Pulp Hero. The Lunatic lands on his feet, inverted headlocks him, kicks out his legs and DRIVES him into the mat with vicious inverted ddt. Alias immediately covers the back of his skull as Flyer lifts him up by his short spiked hair. Tossing him headfirst into the corner, Flyer lays in with a vicious knife edge chop to the midsection that lets the crowd shout out “Wooo!” Alias fires back with one of his own, which sends Flyer reeling back slightly. Flyer returns the favor with a poke to the eyes, before driving his knee into Alias’ midsection and taking him over in a snapmare.)

BB: Both of these men are willing to do whatever it takes to advance. That’s both commendable and despicable…

SB: Which one was that eye poke Buckley?

(Flyer climbs onto the second rope and leaps off, landing with both his boots onto Alias’ shoulders. This forces Alias’ upper body hard to the ground, but Flyer uses it as a launching pad and flips his body in a shooting star press, landing hard onto the top of Alias’ midsection just as it hit the canvas. Hook of the leg.)

BB: Such an inventive maneuver! We’ve got one, two, NO! Alias barely picks his shoulder up. Flyer leapt off with a double foot stop to the Pulp Hero’s shoulder, then sprung off and hit him with a beautiful shooting star into a cover.

SB: Alias wants to win this match, he’s gonna have to take out Flyer’s legs, not his ribs.

(Flyer stands to his feet as Alias sits up, and eats a SOCCER KICK to knock him right back down. Groggy, Alias sits up again, and blocks another soccer kick with his forearms, before grabbing the leg. Flyer, hopping around, gets the other wheel kicked out from him and tumbles to the mat. The Original Pulp returns to his feet and drives a boot to Flyer’s knee, and another, before lifting Flyer by both of his legs, taking him up and over his head in a leg suplex, landing Flyer’s face SQUARE on the top turnbuckle, before he crumples down in a heap. His face and upper body still remain rested on the turnbuckles as he lands on his knees, before Alias charges and delivers a VICIOUS knee strike to Flyer’s back, sending him tumbling to the mats and rolling to the outside.)

BB: Both of these men are trying to figure out where to attack the other. Alias has gone after Flyer’s legs, his back, his ribs, his neck… Flyer’s targeted Alias’ arms, his chest, and his skull, and yet neither of these men seem to have a complete gameplan set in stone yet.

SB: We’ll, they’re facing each other for the first time. Also, I think they’re IQ’s are kinda low. Like… fourish?

BB: Just because they couldn’t solve the brain teaser you invented involving cows and a helicopter doesn’t mean these two aren’t some of the most intelligent men to ever compete in this ring.

SB: Intelligent circus performers, eh BB? I’d say that’s a misnomer…

BB: How do you know what the word misnomer is?

SB: I dunno. Probably one of our commercials.

(Alias charges off the other side and comes toward Flyer with a baseball slide. Flyer drops to his back to avoid the move, landing on the mats, before Flyer catches his back with his legs. Alias continues attempting to slide completely out of the ring, but Flyer keeps pushing his upper body above his head, not allowing him to fall out. Alias grabs the bottom rope, and begins to climb, and there’s only so high Flyer can push Alias’ up with the size of his legs. Once Alias reaches to the top rope, Flyer curls his knees, rolls out of the way, and SPLATS Alias face first on the outside, as he lands attempting to brace the fall. I say attempting, because he was rather unsuccessful.)

BB: And Alias tumbles hard on the outside mats. They may be padded, but it’s an inch of Styrofoam bracing cold unforgiving concrete.

SB: Well, of course it can’t forgive, it’s an object!

(Flyer pulls himself to his feet by the apron and hops onto it. Once Alias begins to groggily recover to his feet, Flyer charges on the apron and FLIES with a shooting star press to the standing Alias, knocking him back down to the outside. Standing to his feet, the Lunatic shakes the cobwebs from his disorientating offence and lifts the Original Pulp to his feet. Once there, Flyer charges toward the nearest ring post and attempts to drive Alias’ skull into it. Alias braces his foot on the apron, hooks Flyer in a belly to back suplex, spins and DRIVES Flyer onto the ring steps with the maneuver. Flyer hits hard on his back and the momentum sends him stumbling, feet over head off the steps and thudding on the outside himself.)

BB: And Alias taking it up a few notches with that maneuver. Belly to back on the steel steps.

SB: I don’t know what’s harder, the “cold unforgiving concrete,” “The cold unforgiving steel steps,” or “the cold unforgiving bitch of a mother you have there Buckley.”

BB: What can I say? You aren’t good in the sac.

SB: Ouch. And he comes out swinging…

(Alias walks up over the steps and drops down to lean over, picking up the Lunatic. Flyer fights back, and both men shove the other backwards. Alias hits the steel turnbuckle with his shoulder, and Flyer sails into the guardrail, back first, before falling to the mats once more.)

BB: Flyer hit that guardrail hard, but I’m worried about Alias’ shoulder, which was dislocated on the first week of the NFW.

SB: You mean things that happen elsewhere actually happened? That goes against everything I know as a wrestling fan.

(Alias winces in pain as he lifts Flyer with his bad shoulder, and tosses him in with the good one. Flyer rolls around in the middle of the canvas, and groggily stands up in the ring, as the Pulp Original slides in. Alias stands, and Flyer takes a wild swinging right hand that hits nothing. He stumbles around, almost as if he was drunk, and swings again, whiffing huge! Alias lets out a slight smirk, before Flyer charges, driving his shoulder into Alias’ gut and SLAMMING him into the nearest turnbuckle. Alias, doubled over in pain, eats a knife edge chop, before Flyer whips him off the other side… NO! Reversal, and Flyer hits the turnbuckle HARD by his sternum, and falls to the mat on his back.)

BB: Flyer trying to outsmart Alias, but Alias was willing to tug and tear at his recently healed shoulder injury in order to reverse the move, and it paid musto dividends.

SB: Musto?

BB: Are you going to repeat everything I say now? Isn't that a little childish by no--

SB: Are you going t--

BB: AND Alias is going for the big RISK, but big payoff of the top rope!

(The Pulp Original took a quick look back at the turnbuckle he had propped himself against, after reversing Flyer's Irish whip, and then started to methodically climb his way up. At first it was hand over foot to get on top of the first turnbuckle, but after that adrenaline kicked in and before Flyer wanted to realize anything while on his back, Alias was on the top rope. He turned for the roaring CSWA17 crowd, and locked his gaze on the Neighborhood Lunatic. Burgeoning friend and man in the way at what he should be getting his fare chance to win tonight, against Ryan, the mystery man... and SVJ. Not Windham. Alias shock his head of these thoughts though. Time was of the essence. He winked at Flyer with a quick and slight devilish charm, underneath his otherwise cold expression, slicked back his spiked hair and juuuuumped off that turnbuckle. Flyer was still on his back, as Alias came down to the mat flat out, cracking his head into the head of the snow selling Lunatic.)

BB: Alias with the Glasgow Kiss!

SB: Eeeeew.

BB: That's a swandive headbutt with a fancy sounding name, *NAME*.

SB: No need to make wrestling sound anymore homoerotic though!

BB: That’s a pin! One Two! FOOT ON THE BOTTOM ROPE! Alias flew pretty far for that headbutt… the distance is something High Flyer will be proud of… on video replays of course.

SB: Why don’t we do exactly that?

(Split screen : A replay of Alias LEAPING near across the ring to hit his intended target. From the impact, we saw Flyer roll from the maneuver toward the ropes, which allowed him to place his foot on top to break up the pin.)

(Meanwhile, in reality, Alias lifts Flyer off his feet and boots him in the gut. He leaps up but Flyer breaks out of the headlock, breaking Alias’ attempt at the Coping Mechanism.)

BB: Coping Mechanism misses… LOCOMOTIVE MISSES!

(Flyer charges, and MISSES THE LOCOMOTIVE, before Alias quickly turns around and grabs Flyer in a hammerlock. He tightens it up, and swings with Welcome to the ACW, Motherf*cker, but Flyer ducks underneath!)

BB: Alias whiffs on welcome to ACW I’m not going to say that word, and Flyer looking for Cold Snow!

SB: Gasp! Why wouldn't you want to say ACW?!

BB: Oh you know what I meant!

(Alias whiffs, and turns around to a boot to the midsection. Side palmed headlock, and Flyer looks for Cold Snow! Alias shoves him off as Flyer leaps in the air.)

SB: Jeez, these guys miss so much so it makes me feel good about winning the lottery.

BB: Does that make English sense?

(Flyer charges, and…)

BB: Alias hits a tilt-a-whirl! He’s going for the A-Bomb! But Flyer tilt-a-whirl headscissors Alias out of the move!

SB: That woulda been curtains. Fin. DAS ENDE!

(Alias backs up and eats a forearm to the face to knock him completely back into the ropes. Once there, Flyer lifts Alias onto the top, setting up there, until Alias fires back with a right hand, and another sends the Lunatic flailing backwards. Alias climbs to the top, looking for a missle dropkick, but Flyer falls into the top rope, CROTCHING the Pulp Hero. Flyer walked over to the other side, and climbed to the top turnbuckle. Once there, he began to walk on the ropes, ala the Undertaker.)

BB: What a feat of agility! High Flyer is tight rope walking on that top rope!

(Flyer picks up somewhat a bit of steam, and charges!)

BB: LOCOMOTIVE! LOCOMOTIVE ON THE SITTING ALIAS BY FLYER!

SB: But Alias grabbed Flyer’s tights as the locomotive SLAMMED into his face!

(With Alias grabbing Flyer’s tights, and the momentum of the move pushing him back, Alias tree of woed to the outside, slamming Flyer’s face into the top turnbuckle…. To a bunch of injured groans from the audience.)

BB: And Alias hooked Flyer, slamming him in the face! Both men tumble into the ring… wait… they’re shoulders are down… and their pinning each other?!?

(The official looks from side to side, unsure what to do, and drops down, counting both pins with both hands.)

BB: One… Two… THREE!?!?

SB: Okay, even I’m confused…

Rhubarb Jones: The result of this match… Is a draw!

(And with that, the fans immediately begin to turn, ever so slightly.)

BB: With no number one contender… what does this mean for our next few months of television?

SB: You mean, how many fans are going to be pissed at all these non-finishes…

With the final bells rung, and the fans replying in both a show of respect and a show of anger, both men remained on the mat, toppled on top of one another. The official dropped down and began to check on both men. He reawoke Alias first, lightly slapping him against the face. The Pulp Hero shook his head to regain his senses, and saw his opponent down.

He turned to the referee and pulled him in close, to presumably ask him what had happened. He clutched his forehead as he heard the news, from both the pain of the Locomotive and well, the lack of a true finish to the match.

With his vision down, he saw Flyer had yet to move, and had cut his head on the steel post. Alias bent down, and checked him out. Once his eyes opened, Flyer winced in pain, and Alias lifted him to his feet. Once there, the Lunatic stumbled in pain, and fell into the top ropes for balance.

"You're lucky I didn't decide to slap you awake, like the ref did to me, heh." Alias gritted his teeth, letting out the light chuckle. He softly rotated his shoulder, causing him to wince in pain as well. Looking up at Flyer, seeing that same punch drunk expression that he himself probably had, Alias roughly stepped closer into the ropes to make sure the conversation kept more between he and Flyer. Keeping the camera man mostly cut off.

"You want the good news or the bad news?" Flyer lifted his bloody head, the first movement since he had balanced against the ropes, as a way of acknowledging Alias. The crowd still gave the two UNIFIED contenders a nice reception, even without a result. Speaking of which. "The good news is, hell, you've got a choice cut there on your forehead..."

Flyer arched his eyebrow. Alias continued with a bit of rumbling pain in his voice. "No really, that's the good news, and it'll probably take some stitches to close the bitch up." Alias cracked a grin, stumbling back a bit and propping himself into the turnbuckle.

Flyer winced in pain again, bouncing off the ropes to a vertical base. "So.... the bad news is?"

Alias nodded his head, and extended his hand. Flyer confusingly returned the favor. "The bad news? We get to do this all again someday."

Flyer smiled, and chuckled. "I'd call that good news..."

BB: Welcome back wrestling fans! Coming up next is just another moment you've been waiting for. Our next match ...

SB: (raises hand) Speak for yourself Buckley. I, personally, have NOT waited for this moment. In fact I'm rather upset this match is even taking place.

BB: Why would you be upset? We've got two young guns in the CSWA and one of them is about to have his dream come true by capturing the Presidential title. How can that be upsetting?

SB: That's just it. Two slackers fighting for a vacated title. Not pinning the former champion, because WE ALL KNOW they could never do that. They could never beat MY President of choice!

BB: You, of course, are referring to the former Presidential champion 'Hot Property' Eddie Mayfield.

SB: Damn right I am. Think of all the high spots he's given us. Intruder alert ... E! He was a class act and the greatest president EVER! Now we have one of these two trying to fill a spot that can never be filled?

BB: Who's to say they won't take the title to a higher plateau?

SB: This is a travesty Buckley! Mayfield should be in this match right now entertaining us all with his words of wisdom and his quick wit. Not one of these lower regenerated clones. Regeneration never works Buckley. You just never know what you're gonna get.

BB: What in heaven's name are you talking about now Benson.

SB: Regeneration? From one persona to another? You know ... like the good Doctor.

BB: Doctor? What doctor?

SB: Who.

BB: The doctor you were talking about.

SB: Doctor Who.

BB: Who?

SB: Yes.

BB: Yes what?

SB: What?

BB: The Doctor ... who is the doctor?

SB: Exactly!

BB: And these are the times I don't get what you're saying what so ever.

SB: Doctor Who! You don't know?

BB: It's time to take it up to Rhubarb to announce the next match.

SB: Are you serious? You don't know Doctor Who?

BB: Quiet Sammy.

RJ: The next match is scheduled for one fall and it is for the CSWA Presidential Title!

MUSIC CUE: 'Phoenix Rising' by Annihilator begins to flood the arena as Jay Phoenix makes his way from behind the curtain and stands at the top of the rampway.

RJ: Weighing in at 215 pounds and hailing from Flagstaff, Arizona, one of the new breed to CSWA, he is JJAAAAAAAYYYYYY PPHHHOOOOEEEEEEEEENNNNIIIIXXX!!!

BB: There is no denying that the new kid on the block, Jay Phoenix, has talent. As we saw in his last match against Minion he can reach down deep when it counts and pulled out the victory. This kid has heart, talent, and ...

SB: I still can't believe you don't know about Doctor Who. Don't you ever watch PBS or BBC America? What do you do on your off time.

BB: I spend it with my family thank you and would you PLEASE drop the doctor stuff. I don't even know who you're talking about!

SB: Such a waste. You've missed out on so much.

RJ: And his opponent ...

MUSIC CUE: 'Dogs of War' by Pink Floyd begins to fill the arena as Jason Payne makes his way to the top of the rampway.

RJ: Weighing in at 275 pounds and hailing from Payneville, Kentucky, he is the other top contender for the Presidential title, this is JJAAAAASSSSOOONNNN PPPAAAAAAYYYYYYNNNNNEEEEE!!!!

BB: The last time we saw Payne he defeated RT Savage in what one would call a memorable match!

SB: He was covered in so much blood I got sick to my stomach. I couldn't even allow myself to drink for an entire five seconds my gut was so unsettled.

BB: I thought you were still on the wagon Sammy.

SB: I'm on the wagon, I'm off the wagon, but what do you care. I still can't believe you don't know ...

BB: Let it go Benson. Who's it gonna be tonight folks. Will Jay Phoenix become the first Native American to hold a CSWA strap since the late eighties? Or will it be Jason Payne. One half of the famed tag duo Dogs of War along with Chris McMillan. Payne has fought back all his life to include almost being put out of the business due to a neck injury.

SB: Payne ... Phoenix ... my money is on none other than ... The Doctor!

BB: I ask, I receive, and I hate the result.

SFX: DING!

BB: The bell sounds and we're on our way! Both Phoenix and Payne circle one another measuring one another out before locking up in the center of the ring.

SB: You know ... hey wait! Did you feel that Buckley?

BB: Feel what?

SB: For a second I felt a tremor. A cold shiver if you will. Something is not right tonight.

BB: One too many Long Island Ice Teas again Sammy? Haven't you learned not to drink on the job BEFORE a broadcast?

SB: It's a Pay Per View ... HELLLOOOO!

BB: Nice to know where your checks go every week. Payne sends Phoenix into the ropes, Phoenix bounces off, leapfrogs over Payne, bounces off the ropes again, leaps in the air, and catches Payne off guard with a flying head scissors! Payne just flipped over in the corner with that move and can't believe it happened to him!

SB: Birds ... dogs ... since when did Thomas start hittin' some of Smallz's stash? What kind of zoo is this?

BB: Relax young one. Phoenix is quick to his feet and he launches himself towards Payne nailing him with a running dropkick straight to the side of Payne's right temple! Phoenix is going for the cover ..

One ...

Tw ... NO!

BB: Patrick Young was in the zone for the count, but Payne was not out of it cause he kicked out at two!

SB: Since when has Young ever been in the zone? He's just an evil little Dalek to The Master Thomas. I still haven't decided if he's the Delgado version or the Ainley one.

BB: Good Lord man stop babbling! Phoenix is up and sees his chance. He runs and bounces off the ropes and ... OH! Right into the arms of Payne who NAILS him with a vicious sidewalk slam!

SB: Hey a Phoenix CAN fly ... fly away little bird. Fly away.

BB: Payne is disregarding a pin right now and he's going back on the attack. He's reaching down and pulling up Phoenix by his hair up towards him ... he's got his head locked ... SWINGING NECKBREAKER! Payne is putting alot of wear and tear on Phoenix's neck right now.

SB: Maybe he wants to show him how it feels to be in a dog collar match. Dog ... makes me think of K-9. That mangy computerized mutt. He was so loyal to Tom Baker.

BB: Who?

SB: One of'em yes.

BB: We're not starting that again. Payne still on the prowl as he stalks a laid out Phoenix. Payne walks over, props Phoenix up, and ... OH GOOD LORD! Payne has got Phoenix in a Camel Clutch and he's really wrenching it in!

SB: Come on Young! Get in there and do your job! Get this match done so I can get some munchies yo!

BB: Patrick Young is in there checking the arm of Jay Phoenix, but he isn't giving up! Payne isn't letting up as he continues to lean back causing obvious pain on the face of Phoenix.

SB: Poor Phoenix. He needs a companion. The Doctor always had a companion that helped him in his time of need. Maybe Rose, or Sarah Jane, or maybe Ace. Or even Leela ... meow wow!

BB: You're an idiot you know that?

SB: I've been called worse by better people.

BB: Young is still checking to see if Phoenix is ready to quit, but the Arizona native is not showing any signs of that! Payne, frustrated, releases the hold and ... WOW! Drops a big time elbow on the back of Phoenix's head! He reaches back down to pick up Phoenix and ... he just threw him out of the ring!

SB: Come on Young I have faith in ya. Count fast!

BB: The Dog of War is quick to follow after his prey on the outside and picks him off the ground LAUNCHING him into the steel barricade that surrounds the ring! That's gotta hurt!

SB: Ya think? If Young was smart he would count both of these people out, take the title, find Mayfield, and give it back to its rightful owner!

BB: Don't be a fool ...

SB: VIVA LA MAYFIELD!!!

BB: Words that fall on deaf ears.

SB: I only have selective hearing when I listen to you Buckley. Only wanna hear the things I want. Tune out the bad and hear the good.

BB: Funny, I have the same thing when it comes to you.

SB: Hey two great minds think alike!

BB: Don't flatter yourself! Payne rolls Phoenix back into the ring ...

SB: Rotten Son-of-a ...

BB: Payne back in and scoops up Phoenix ... HUGE running powerslam planting Phoenix in the center of the ring! He's going for a pin ...

One ...

Two ...

Th-NO!!!

BB: Payne almost had him, but the fire that burns within Phoenix cannot be extinguished!

SB: Man you sure did dig down deep for that one. You know, at times, you even SOUND like the good Doctor. A touch of Pertwee perhaps?

BB: Okay, now you're starting to scare me. Payne is back on the attack picking up Phoenix and whips him into the corner. Payne comes charging, but ... NOBODY HOME! Phoenix ducks out and the only thing Payne meets up with is the hard feeling of crashing into the turnbuckle!

SB: A sonic screwdriver won't be able to fix that. Maybe a jellybaby, but ...

BB: What in the name that is holy are you talking about?

SB: Doctor Who! You seriously don't know what I'm talking about?

BB: I don't know who this doctor is, but NO! I do not!

SB: Sheltered life ...

BB: Phoenix has Payne staggering in the ring ... RUNNING DROPKICK! Phoenix just FLEW off the ropes and planted his feet dead into Payne's kisser dropping him towards the ring ropes. And now Payne is trying to get to his feet, but Phoenix is coming off the ropes ... INFERNO!!!! Phoenix just caught himself on the ropes and did a spinning one eighty catching his feet in Payne's face again knocking him to the center of the ring!

SB: Wow this action is intense! It's hot! It's ... it ain't Mayfield so blah, blah, blah I'll take another drink and taco thank you!

BB: Send all your complaints to CSWA attention Sammy Benson folks. Phoenix is on the outside waiting for Payne to make a move. Payne starts to make it to his feet ... TOMAHAWK FROM THE TOP ROPE! Phoenix just planted his foot, axe kick style, to the back of Payne's head coming off of the top rope. And we've got a cover again!

One ...

Two ...

Thr-NO! NO! Payne kicks out!

SB: They're actually putting their heart into this match aren't they Buckley.

BB: That they are Sammy.

SB: Maybe I should just ... (laughing) YEAH RIGHT! Only Mayfield ... NO CLONES! Unless, of course, The TARDIS appears then I'm off with The Doctor drinkin' across space and time as we know it!

BB: Sure you haven't started early?

SB: (checks his breath) What makes you say that?

BB: Go figure. Phoenix back up now and running towards the ropes. He comes off ... into the waiting arms of Jason Payne! SPINNING SPINEBUSTER! Payne jumped up at the last second and now they're both down!

One ...

Two ...

Three ...

SB: So if they don't make it to their feet then this match is a no contest and nobody wins the belt right?

Four ...

BB: That is correct Sammy.

Five ...

SB: (Yells towards the ring) STAY DOWN HOBOS!

Six ...

BB: You need to get check cause I swear you're not right in the head.

Seven ...

SB: You haven't learned to deal with it yet? Oh great now one of them is moving!

Eight ...

BB: Payne is up first and he's picking up Phoenix ... SLEEPER!!! Payne has hooked a sleeper on ... NO WAIT! Jay Phoenix just grabbed the back of Payne's head and came down jamming his skull into Payne's jaw!

SB: And somewhere a dentist has pictured his new car and home dream come true.

BB: Phoenix is slowly getting back to his feet and so is Payne ... DREAMCATCHER!!!! A thrust kick right the side of Payne's head just as he was getting up! Payne is down, but he's not going for the cover?

SB: He wants to make sure ... look!

BB: Jay Phoenix has climbed to the top rope and launches off in a somersault ... complete spin ... and what a HUGE IMPACT landing on Payne!

One ..

Two ...

THREE!!!

BB: This match is over! Jay Phoenix has done it folks! Jay Phoenix is your new CSWA Presidential Champion! The first Native American to hold a belt in CSWA since the early eighties! That young man should be proud of himself tonight!

SB: Yeah. So? He's no Mayfield!

BB: And he's no Eccleston or Tennant either now is he?

SB: No he ... what did you just say?

BB: Sammy. I have satellite hook up. I know all about Doctor Who

SB: Wha ... ?

BB: I was just messing with you and you know this ... MAN!

SB: BASTARD!

BB: Folks, enjoy the moment. Jay Phoenix is your new Presidential Champion and Sammy Benson is speechless.

Backstage, STEVE RADDER sits in his dressing room, lost in thought, minutes away from his biggest match in ... well ... in years. It might be his most significant match yet. Out of his entire career.

A knock on the door shakes him from his thoughts. A deliveryman pokes his head in the door with a paper-wrapped package, holding it up, with an arched eyebrow.

"You Radder?" The kid asks. Radder rolls his eyes, and holds out his hands. The kid tosses the package to Radder, and leaves.

Radder sets the package beside him, staring off towards the closed door.

It's taking too long. It really has been the longest hour of his life.

All of the sudden, the moment he's been waiting for comes. There's a knock on his door.

Radder leaps to his feet, running to the door, forgetting to check his face in the mirror. He's got a big shiner, and he's feeling self-conscious about it. Tearing open the door, he's greeted by ...

His neighbor.

Radder's face drops, along with his whole head. He's obviously crestfallen, and he couldn't possibly hide it if he tried. He closes his eyes, presses hip lips together, shaking his head.

"Geez, I'm sorry," Doug says sarcastically.

"Wrong time, Doug. I'm ... expecting someone else." Radder takes the diplomatic approach. He's never really cared much for the Slug.

"Fine. I need some laundry detergent." He's always bumming **** off Radder. Usually it's ... acceptable. Not today.

"Wrong time, Doug. There's a market on the corner." Radder turns away, closing the door.

He walks to the kitchen, clenching and unclenching his fists. Radder swears to himself, the next time he sees the Slug, he's gonna ...

Doug's knocking on the door again. Radder takes a deep breath, his eyes widening, as he marches to the door, tearing it open, as his hands fall to his sides in shock.

She's right in front of him. With Jane. His daughter. She's home. They stand there staring at eachother for a few seconds that seem like ages, her holding her brown teddy bear in one arm, Radder with bruises all over his. They both start sobbing at the same moment, as he takes her in his arms, while Jane smiles, and turns away. It almost always goes like this, and Radder can come in to sign the papers tomorrow. She leaves the two of them together, sobbing in eachother's arms.

Radder shakes his head, getting rid of the cobwebs. Now's not the time. He turns to the package on the floor, picking it up and opening it. It's his ring attire for the night, his usual long-sleeved shirt, specially made for him out of that neoprene stuff they make surfwear out of. Specially made so that it won't rip.

Preoccupied, Radder only stops briefly to think that it was odd that the delivery kid didn't have him sign for the package.

It was expected that the normal wrestling fan might not catch on the first time. I mean, we’re not dealing with rocket scientists here, right? So it had been necessary to give them a little push… make them think they were figuring it out on their own while they were really being pulled around on a leash.

(PRIMETIME in San Francisco – May 2, 2005)

(As the PRIMETIME credits roll, those viewers who have stuck around see a slightly different roll than they're used to...

CSWA PRIMETIME
Brought to you by CS Enterprises and the CSWA
In conjunction with U-62
All rights reserved. 66.34.139.220
For more information, please sign up for our mailing list on our website.

And so, the ones not braindead had found their way to the CSWAfans.com site. At first glance, a simple defunct fan site – but dig a little deeper and the leash pulled a little tighter. Let the kids believe they had found an easter egg. Small clues thrown out on the “About Me” page, teasing the existence of more.

Play the games, little ones. Figure out the middle name (Jeremy) and where it leads. Find the entrance to the CSWA treasure trove of all troves. Because you know what lies behind that door, don’t you? Put in the right username (that you already have) and the right password, and the doors of the “Internal Network” open up…

…to the Merritt Files.

BB: We're well past the fifty yard line for CSWA17, Sammy, and we've got the Grudge Match to End All Grudge Matches coming up in just a few moments!

SB: It should be a bra and panties match. Ivy done screwed me for the last time, Buckley.

BB: At what point did you think she would either agree to or propose that stipulation? Ivy is a fighter, this is an I QUIT match. No pinfalls, no disqualification, no countouts. I think Teri is at a marked disadvantage, Sammy.

SB: Shows what you know, Buckley. McGinnis is a dirty fighter, true. McGinnis is a feminazi with violent temperament, but I think you're forgetting the Moonsaults of Miss Hooters. Teri knows what she's doing in that ring, and she's a lot smarter than the bitch.

BB: You underestimate Ivy, Sammy.

SB: You overestimate Ivy, Buckley.

(CUE UP: "American Woman" - Lenny Kravitz)

BB: Well, we're about to--- Oh my goodness!

SB: Smarter, Buckley! I told ya!

(CUTTO: The entranceway, where Teri Melton is standing tall, dressed in a blue designer warm-up suit and $300 sneakers. There is a large man, approximately six feet six inches tall, shirtless, displaying massive muscles on either side of her and one behind her. She is smirking to the camera, her nose covered by clear tape that can barely be seen.)

BB: This match is a no disqualification match, Pee Wee Troutman is there solely to hold the microphone for the words 'I QUIT.' And I think Teri Melton has, in fact, outsmarted the no DQ policy with her bodyguards. Although, Ivy has plenty of friends, herself, that she could call upon to watch her back.

SB: They'd better all be someone like Randalls, to keep her back this time.

(CUTTO: The ring, where Teri has entered to a smattering of catcalls and boos. She asked for a microphone and received.)

TERI: Thank you, my children... your Queen is in attendance. I would like to thank you all for coming to this, the final humiliation of my annoyance. I hesitate to use the word nemesis...

(She winked at the camera)

...because that would imply that this McGinnis woman...

(Cheers at the mention of the name McGinnis, but Teri plowed through them)

...is at or near being my equal. No, there is no comparison. While I was receiving private education, she was learning her ABC's in a New York... public school. I was increasing my stock options in this company while she typing a lot of whiny tripe on a borrowed computer. I was slumming it with Paul while she thought they were soulmates.

(More boos followed, as Teri smiled.)

In fact, the only place where this... person... exceeds my talents is in dirty, uncouth, uncivilized fighting. But because this match has no disqualifications...

(She gestured to her three bodyguards outside the ring.)

...I've outsmarted her again. So come on out, Miss Soon-To-Be-My-Property, and let's get this over with.

BB: Harsh words from Teri Melton, Sammy!

SB: Harsh words, harsher muscle, still the same great hooters!

(CUE UP: "Why Do You Love Me?" by Garbage, as the fans' reaction suddenly shifted 180 degrees. Poison Ivy stepped through the curtain - alone - wearing a black 'Valerian's Garden' T-shirt, black hip-hugging jeans, and black Sketchers. She wore tinted glasses and carried a microphone of her own in hand.

Teri's smirk grew into a full - blown smile.)

SB: What did I tell you, Buckley? Nobody loves her! Nobody cares! She's gonna come out here and get pummelled by three big guys who, actually, would probably be more apt to cop a feel. But for what Teri's paying them, the Feminazi is gonna feel it in the mornin'!

IVY: I figured you for a coward, Melons... thanks for not disappointing. I also figured you'd have some kind'a speech tonight. Inspiring, t'be sure.

(In the ring, Teri motioned with her hands to speed it up. She had places to be and this was eating into her facial time.)

Not all of us have the benefit of a trust fund, Melons. While you were getting your life and cosmetic surgery paid for, some of us were working our asses off in school to get scholarship money and at jobs to pay for the rest.

(Ivy raised her hand, and a lot of people cheered.)

While you were riding the Miss Hooters wave until you sank under the weight of your... load... some of us were trying to do something different in the business. Succeed or fail, it doesn't matter: the point is some of us tried But you? You teased skin until the audience got bored with it, then flaunted your stuff to President Poop, Timmy, Hornet, Me(BEEP)t... anyone that would pay the slightest bit of attention to you... and then that got old. All you've got left, Teri, is to strip down t'your skin, spread eagle in the middle of the ring and let the fans peer up your (CENSORED). That might be new for a while.

BB: Fans, we apologize for the outburst. I hope Marvin caught that with the button.

SB: Me too. But Ivy's got the right idea for Teri.

(In the ring, Teri looked shocked and angered. CUTTO Ivy, in the aisle, amused and surrounded by cheering fans.)

IVY: Yeah, I'll concede the fact that you've got a lot more than I do, Teri. But if you took what you started with and where you are now... and what I started with and where I am now... there's no comparison. I've got everything I need and lots that I don't. And I've got one thing that you don't have, Teri.

I have respect.

You're not respected, Teri, you're feared. Capable women have always been afraid of you because you have nothing to offer but a pretty face and can fire them from this company on a whim. Men that you can't control with sex have always been afraid of you because you can't control them.

I've never been afraid of you, Teri. I know what I did for this sport has worked. The only thing I'm afraid of at all... are those three guys you've no doubt brought down here to kick my ass.

(Teri's expression turned around as she nodded with grim satisfaction.)

I don't think so. I've got friends too.

(CUE UP: "Thunderstruck" by AC/DC)

SB: Are you kidding me?

BB: Fans, in case there are some of you new to the CSWA, this is the CSWA's VP of Security, Gregg Gethard, joining Ivy on the entranceway!

SB: She needed some muscle, not the guy whose claim to fame is getting hung from a cage by his underwear a decade ago by another VP! Look at Teri, she's glowing. She knows her victory party is gonna be with Sammy B!

(CUTTO: The entranceway, where Ivy has been joined by Gethard.)

TERI: Are you joking? I expected you to fall short in this capacity, McGinnis, but I never expected you to fall this short. Is that Cruncher behind you, Gregg?

(Gethard looked behind him quickly, as Teri laughed and Ivy reassured him.)

GETHARD: That's funny, Ms. Melton. Actually I'm here, not as a favor to Ivy but in an official capacity, with a question for your friends.

(Pause)

Do they have passes?

BB: Um...

SB: Er...

TERI: No, they don't. But they don't need them, Gethard. I'm your superior, and I say they can st--

GETHARD: No, no, no, Teri. When it comes to security and safety, the only two men that can overrule anything I decide are Stephen Thomas and Ch(CENSORED)itt. So unless one of them wants to come down and tell you you're right...

(Everyone looked toward the entranceway, but the only people who emerged were two plainclothes police officers with gun belts on and their badges on a chain around their necks.)

...then my friends, Greensboro's Finest, are going to have to ask your friends to leave.


(The fans cheered like mad as the police officers followed Ivy to ringside, and rounded up Teri's bodyguards as they took a lap around the ring. Teri looked worried, Ivy looked satisfied, and she pounded her fist against Gethard's as he left with the police and Teri's bodyguards.)

BB: There's the bell, Sammy, and Teri has no more backup!

SB: It's not fair!

BB: But it would have been fair for Ivy to get pummelled?

SB: She broke Teri's nose, I think she should get something for her troubles.

BB: Ivy has hit the ring, and she's still got her microphone in her hand! What else does she have to say?

(CUTTO: The ring)

IVY: Since we both know who the tougher woman is, Teri... you've got one chance to just say the words and walk away unscathed.

(Ivy handed the microphone off to Troutman, who handed it to Rhubarb.)

TERI: Interesting offer, McGinnis... let me think about it for a moment.

(She paced in a circle for a few seconds while the fans cheered.)

I don't think so.

BB: Teri just threw that microphone at Ivy's head! She ducked it! KICK TO THE FACE BY TERI MELTON!

SB: Smarter, Buckley! I told you!

BB: Ivy with her hand over her face, and Teri shoved her to the mat! We've got a catfight, Sammy, complete with hairpulling and rolling around on the mat!

SB: YES!

BB: Pee Wee Troutman, wisely staying out of it! Teri has two handfuls of Ivy's hair, and she's trying to beat the back of her head on the mat!

SB: Quit, Feminazi, QUIT!

TROUTMAN: Ivy--

IVY: Get that thing the **** out of my face!

BB: I guess that answers that.

SB: Give it time, Buckley. Give it time.

BB: Teri with a slap to the face, and another slap! She's sitting on Ivy's chest, with her legs pinning down the Psycho Bitch's arms, and she's just toying with her! Teri grabbed the microphone from Troutman!

TERI: Isn't this how we both knew it would end, McGinnis? I'm on top, I WON. To be honest, humiliating you is getting to be far too tiresome a hobby. Just end it and I'll give you weekends off.

BB: Ivy just spat in Teri's face!

TERI: If I get a disease, I'm sueing you.

SB: Hah!

(SFX: Massive amounts of feedback)

BB: GOOD GRIEF! Teri just drove the end of that microphone into Ivy's face!

SB: What? I think I'm deaf!

BB: WHAT?

TERI: What do you actually have, McGinnis? Why not give it up? You talked of respect… where is it now?

BB: Harsh words from Teri Melton! IVY WITH A LEGSCISSORS!

SB: Where did she get that from?

BB: She knows what she’s doing in that ring, Sammy, you can be sure of that! And she's flipped Teri backwards off her shoulders, Ivy is free!

SB: For how long, Buckley?

BB: Ivy rolls backwards to her knees--

SB: Where she's at home.

BB: --Stop it, Sammy! She launched herself forward and tackled Melton to the ground! FISTS ARE FLYING!

SB: Don't break the Hooters!

BB: They rolled over, and back again. Ivy with a thumb to Teri's eye! It's a good thing she doesn't have long nails, Sammy!

SB: Teri does! And it's just a matter of time.

BB: Teri breaks the hold, and she rolls to the outside! I think she's leaving, Sammy!

SB: Wouldn't you?

BB: I certainly would. Ivy with the microphone!

IVY: Where y'going, Teri? Runnin away from yet another challenge that you can't fix by flauntin' your ****?

BB: Teri has stopped outside the ring, but I think she's second-guessing that.

IVY: Where's the big tough power suit now, Teri? It's just like you, isn't it? You get an advantage with a cheapshot...

BB: Ivy pointing at her eye, and she's got quite the shiner from that microphone shot!

IVY: ...and the moment things get just a little tough, you run. Well, run, rabbit, run... because I'm right on y'heels.

BB: Ivy just dropped the microphone, and she's left the ring! Teri has backed off, and she's headed back up the ramp! Ivy's hot on her heels!

SB: Teri is not a wrestler, she shouldn't have to do this!

BB: Then she shouldn't have made the challenge to begin with Sammy! For once, Teri has bitten off more than she can chew!

SB: That's because she and I haven't--

BB: Family entertainment, Sammy.

SB: To err, is human, Buckley. To forgive is divine. So be divine.

BB: TERI STUMBLED! IVY TACKLED HER TO THE RAMP FLOOR! And she bounced her head off the ramp! Two handfuls of hair, and she's dragging Teri back to the ring! Ivy's out for blood, Sammy, and she has nothing to lose tonight!

SB: Except for her freedom and pretty face. Teri's not done with her yet.

BB: Teri just pulled away-- IVY STILL HAS A HANDFUL OF HAIR, and Teri is holding the side of her head in pain! Ivy just ripped out some of Teri's hair!

SB: Quick! Time out!

BB: There are no time outs in the CSWA, Sammy!

SB: I... merely think of the pain that poor woman is going through. I know, because I, myself, have had some hair ripped out by this hellish shrew, and--

BB: Wax poetic some other time, Sammy, this match continues! Ivy just sent Teri back into the ring, and this is going to continue!

TROUTMAN: Teri, do you want to quit?

TERI: No!

BB: Ivy follows her back in, and a kick to the ribs! I'm torn, Sammy! Teri is in way over her head, but the stakes are far too high for both women for either of them to just quit!

SB: I've heard Teri treats her servants very well.

BB: Another kick, and Ivy with the microphone!

IVY: I hope you're not pregnant again, Teri.

BB: Kick to the stomach!

IVY: I'd feel bad about this.

BB: Another kick!

SB: Just don't--

BB: Kick to the mouth! Teri is holding her hands over her lips, and I wouldn't be surprised if she lost a tooth!

SB: There it is, Teri's going to be out of work for the next month.

IVY: Ten... FU***NG... YEARS, Teri!

BB: Ivy punctuating every word with another kick, Sammy, and I hate to say it about any woman getting beaten up, but she's completely justified!

SB: Beating up Teri is never justified.

BB: All the conflicts over the years, all the times Teri managed to get the upper hand through despicable means...

SB: She's still our boss, Buckley.

BB: She can't hear me, Sammy.

SB: She will after the match is over.

IVY: Get up, Teri.

BB: Teri has just been pummeled, I don't know that she can get up, although Ivy has backed off, leaning up against the ropes.

IVY: You're such a strong, assertive, powerful woman, Teri, but you can't deal with your own enemies? You spend a decade building this up and y'can't even finish it? GET UP.

SB: Stop yelling at her!

BB: What would you do?

SB: I wouldn't be yelling... moaning, maybe--

BB: Sammy! Teri is finally pulling herself up, but she doesn't look like she's got much left in the tank. She's looking at Ivy...

SB: No, Buckley - she's looking past Ivy!

BB: CHAIR TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD! SECURITY TACKLED HIM! IVY GOES DOWN! TERI IS LAUGHING!

SB: That's not right, Buckley. That's really not right.

BB: Changed your tune already, Sammy?

SB: It's not changing my tune. Look at her!

BB: What are you... Oh.

(CUTTO: The CSWAVision screen, where a slow - motion replay showed Ivy leaning against the ropes. A large, muscled man had jumped the guardrail with his chair in his hand, and cracked Ivy in the back of the head with it. Security tackled him quickly and wrestled him to the ground, but the damage was done.)

BB: Of course, it is never a good idea for fans to try and get into the action. You are tackled by security, removed from the building, and banned from all future CSWA events.

SB: Buckley.

BB: No, keep the camera off him, he doesn't deserve the publicity.

SB: Buckley.

BB: And of course, to try and attack one of the wrestlers or CSWA employees - Ivy McGinnis in particular - is just an excuse for security to rough you up a bit more.

SB: BUCKLEY.

BB: What?

SB: Look at Teri.

BB: She's... smiling?

SB: I think that was her mysterious fourth bodyguard.

BB: Oh, what a bitch! She's smart, all right, Sammy. She provoked Ivy, she made Ivy's life as much a hell as she could, and then she couldn't even face her one on one.

SB: Look at the back of Ivy's head. Her hair is stained with blood. It's no wonder Ivy's spent more and more time away from this company, every time she tries to do something Teri gets in her way.

BB: I'm surprised to hear you say that, Sammy.

SB: Buckley, c'mon. It's one thing to debate with her over whether she should show more skin, or whether she should take a valium. But look at this. She tries to do the right thing for the business more times than most people expected her. She plays by the rules, and she's facedown on the mat, bleeding from the back of the head. It's not right, Buckley. It's really not right.

BB: Well, Teri's helper has been removed from the arena, and I'm being informed through my earpiece that he's currently being given an LAPD farewell by the service entrance. But it may be all for naught, because Teri has the microphone in her hand and Ivy doesn't look like she's got much movement left.

TERI: Where's your smart mouth now, McGinnis? You've always got an answer for everything and a verbal barb for everything, right? Well, except for 'Why doesn't he love me?' but we just need to hold a mirror to your face to see the answer to that.

BB: Teri standing over Ivy now, and she's nudging her with her foot!

TERI: You never understood, McGinnis, no matter how many little brain cells tried, no matter how many times I tried to explain it to you. You aren't going to beat me. There are winners in this life... and there are losers. I am a winner, by birth and by lifestyle. You are a loser, by the same token.

I don't hate you for your shortcomings, McGinnis... it's like hating a stupid dog for growling at a well intentioned stranger. And you don't hit the dog with a stick just because it's stupid, you show mercy. So take the microphone and say the words, and I'll show you mercy.

BB: Teri has handed the microphone back to Pee Wee Troutman, and Ivy, I don't know if she even heard her! Her ears have got to be ringing from that vicious chair shot, but she’s getting up! Ivy is definitely cut from the same cloth as her best friend and psychological counterpart, Eli Flair.

SB: C’mon, Ivy… you’ve still got something in the tank.

BB: She hears you say that and she’ll be convinced that she’s concussed. But she’s got a handful of Troutman’s leg, and she’s getting to her feet! Look at her eyes, Sammy, she’s miles away. That chairshot may have been the end of it.

TERI: So c’mon, McGinnis… do what you need to.

BB: Teri hands off the microphone to Troutman, and he’s helped Ivy to her feet. She pats him on the shoulder and falls backwards into the ropes, but she’s on her feet! How much longer will she be, Sammy?

SB: I don’t know, Buckley. I just don’t know.

TROUTMAN: What about it, McGinnis?

IVY: What’s my name, Teri?

BB: She’s really out of it, Sammy.

TERI: McGinni—

IVY: My other name, you egotistical whore.

BB: Whoa! Ivy just caught Teri off guard with that.

SB: But she’s still using the ropes to keep herself on her feet, I think Teri’s still got an advantage here.

TERI: … Poison Ivy.

BB: What is she doing?

IVY: Thank you.

BB: IVY WITH A RIGHT HAND! TERI JUST CRUMBLED TO THE MAT!

SB: Ivy did, too! She doesn’t have her balance, Buckley, but at the moment I don’t think she needs it.

BB: Teri’s got a black eye now, Sammy, and she’s trying to get out of the ring again! IVY GRABBED HER BY THE FOOT! SCORPION DEATHLOCK! SCORPION DEATHLOCK! The fans are on their feet as Ivy has the Scorpion Deathlock locked in! The move Hornet taught her, and she’s using it to finish off Teri!

SB: Buckley, not everyone who knows a Scorpion learned it from Hornet.

TROUTMAN: How about it, Teri?

TERI: I… QUIT!

BB: IVY WINS! IVY WINS!

SB: I can’t believe it!

BB: Ivy just fell over, and Teri has scrambled out of the ring! The fans are on their feet cheering for the Psycho Bitch, and Sammy, Teri Melton is no longer our boss!

SB: You’re just lucky.

BB: Troutman holds Ivy’s hand up while she’s sitting against the bottom rope, but she’s grabbed the microphone out of his hand! The music has died down, but Ivy apparently has something to say.

IVY: That, Teri… was a little hello from our dear friend Paul.

BB: Told you, Sammy!

SB: So you were right for once.

IVY: You can seduce whatever men you want, Teri… you can sleep your way to the top of anything you want to be at the top of… but will any of them remember what color your eyes are?

BB: Teri just shaking her head outside, I think she realizes what just happened.

IVY: You never understood what made me tick, Teri. You never realized why I kept coming back to this company, knowing that you were there to make my life hell. I don’t love power, Teri. I don’t love a big office and a fat salary for getting all dolled up and getting my picture taken.

I love the boys, Teri… I love the fans. And I didn’t really care about you losing your cushy job and big salary by saying those two words… I decided to take a page out of your book on that.

I just wanted to hurt you.

BB: Wow! Ivy drops the microphone, and here comes Eli Flair to a huge ovation! We’re approximately forty minutes away from his final CSWA match against Hornet, but for the moment, he’s simply helping Ivy to the back! She’s going to need stitches, Sammy… but I think that for the first and final time… perhaps for the most important time… Ivy has gotten the better of Teri Melton.

SB: Forgive me, Sammy die-hards… but good for her.

BB: Well, it's time for the second of the three title matches tonight, and the only one where we actually have a champion.

SB: And only the best wrestler in the world there is. Jean Rabesque. Sure he may be boring as sin, but there aren't many people out there who can outgrapple him.

BB: Well, JA says he can.

SB: Yeah, and this masked freak also said he could beat the other masked freak, dressed up like Uncle Slam and said he could take out Steve Radder too, and we all saw how that turned out.

BB: Well, maybe the third time is the charm for the man known as The Anglo Luchador.

SB: Well he's gonna have his work cut out for him, that's for damn sure.

(Cue up "Eat the Rich." Enter JA with Lollipop. Huge crowd pop.)

RJ: Introducing first, the Challenger, weighing in at 215 and three-eighths pounds, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania... the Anglo Luchador... JAY-AYE!!!!

BB: And this Greensboro crowd loves JA!

SB: Yeah, well they're all idiots anyway, Bill. I mean, all you have to do is lie to them and tell them they're not rednecks.

BB: Such hate, Sam. Let it go.

SB: Not until this Vacant guy wins the title tonight and puts this company out of business so I can get my severance pay and retire to Tahiti.

BB: Keep thinking that, Sam.

(Cue up "The Shapes of Things." Enter Jean Rabesque, Greensboro Championship in tow, to a mixed reaction.)

RJ: And his opponent, weighing in at 245 pounds, he is the CSWA Greensboro Champion, from Montreal, Quebec, Canada... JEAN RABESQUE!

BB: And here comes the Greensboro Champ.

SB: Yeah, and he's gonna teach this goon a lesson in wrestling.

BB: Well we shall see about that. Both men in the ring, circling each other, and the match begins.

(DING DING DING)

BB: JA and Rabesque lock up, and the Champion with the early advantage, hammerlock behind the back. JA struggles, and now elbow to Rabesque's head, the Champ ducks, wrenches that arm and a clubbing forearm to the back of JA's head! He has him... back body drop from the wily Canadian.

SB: See? I told you this punk was outmatched.

BB: Sam, the match barely started. JA's back up to his feet, Rabesque though meets him with a HARD chop...

CROWD: WOOOOO!

BB: ...and another....

CROWD: WOOOOO!

BB: ...and a third chop!

CROWD: WOOOOO!

SB: Well, it looks like Eli isn't the only Flair this crowd loves.

BB: That's true Sam. JA's chest is going to be red after this match. Rabesque with the Irish whip, JA off the ropes, clothesline from the Champ... JA ducks, rebounds and flying cross bod... NO! Rabesque catches him and nails him with a ribbreaker in quick succession!

SB: Technical ecstasy. This goof is gonna have to go back to whatever rock he crawled from under after this.

BB: The match is still young, Sam, but Rabesque is in control at this point. Now the Greensboro Champion has JA on the canvas and.. STF! He's going after JA's back and midsection so he can't do any of his heavy lifting moves.

SB: This is turning out to be a dismantling thus far.

BB: Rabesque does have that STF locked in tight. He is a master technician, but it should be noted that JA is quite resilient.

SB: Yeah, and Rabesque can wear someone down until they can't bounce back.

BB: Rabesque now lets go of the STF, and JA is holding his ribs. The Champ is up and stomping on JA's ribs and solar plexus. I wouldn't be surprised to see JA spit up some blood the way this match is going.

SB: Yeah, and that should teach him for making fun of Rabesquedor.

BB: You just did the same thing.

SB: Yeah, but I'm allowed to. I'm important around here.

BB: *sigh* Rabesque's got JA... NO! JA reverses into an inside cradle... one... but the Champ quickly kicks out! I told you he was resilient!

SB: Lucky break!

BB: Both men are now up and Rabesque in with a chop that's BLOCKED by JA and now the Anglo Luchador fires in with one of his own...

CROWD: WOOOOO!

BB: Rabesque back against the ropes, JA with the Irish whip. Rabesque charges in and... FLAPJACK!

SB: I do have to admit, he got Rabesque higher on that move than Joey Melton was in the early '90s.

BB: Such a low-blow artist, Sam. JA's got Rabesque up and it looks like he's going for a belly-to-belly... and he can't get him over! JA holding his ribs.

SB: Ha, Rabesquedor did a number on his ribs and now he can't do any heavy lifting. I think this match is over, Billy Boy.

BB: Rabesque now fires in an elbow to JA's face! The Anglo Luchador reels back and Rabesque's after him, scoops him up... another ribbreaker! This time he's holding JA on his knee, digging that knee into JA's ribs!

SB: Poor kid, he's gonna be in pain for weeks and all over the Greensboro belt. Heh, maybe when he comes back, he can be a jobber to the stars or something.

BB: Rabesque lets go and JA slumps to the canvas. Rabesque with a stomp... no! JA rolls out of the way! Rabesque steps back, stomps... JA rolls again, this time out of the ring!

SB: Heh, he's fleeing!

BB: Rabesque follows him over, but JA rolls under the ring! Rabesque doesn't know where he is! The ref's counting now, and Rabesque is just standing there.

SB: He knows that he's gonna win by a countout! This goof's a coward! He's hiding!

BB: Unlikely Sam, I bet JA's up to something here.

SB: Well, the ref's already up to five. If this fruit is up to something, he better pull it off quick.

BB: Rabesque is basking! This crowd is going nuts booing, I don't think anyone knows what's going on here. Wait a second, JA just rolled out the other side and he's on the apron!

SB: The ref sees him, but Rabesque doesn't!

BB: JA's waiting, this crowd is going nuts. Rabesque turns to the ref now.

SB: I think he's wondering why he stopped counting.

BB: The ref points behind him... Rabesque turns around... SPRINGBOARD MISSILE DROPKICK! Rabesque goes down like a ton of bricks, JA with the cover... one... two... but the Champion kicks out!

SB: Holy moly!

BB: JA is up, he's got Rabesque up... tombstone... and Rabesque has some leverage, I don't think JA's got him up all the way. Flailign his legs and now Rabesque is in position for the tombstone on JA... NAILS it!

SB: This is the end, my only friend, the end.

BB: Sam, I'm not your friend.

SB: Hey! I was singing a song. And I knew that already.

BB: Rabesque is going for the figure four now! He's got him around... NO! JA just kicked Rabesque in the rear end! Rabesque chest first into the ropes, and JA's up.

SB: I can't believe it!

BB: Rabesque turns around, kick to the gut from JA! He's got him in the gutwrench...

SB: He can't try be trying that move! His ribs are too weak!

BB: JA's got Rabesque up and... KARELIN DRIVER! KARELIN DRIVER! I can't believe it! He hit the Karelin Driver on Jean Rabesque! Cover... one... two... THREE!

(DING DING DING!)

RJ: Here is your winner... and NEW GREENSBORO CHAMPION.... JAY... AAAYEEE!!!!

BB: I can't believe it! JA did it! He's the Greensboro Champion!

SB: YEah, JA done good.

BB: Did you just call him by his real name, Sam?

SB: Yeah, the kid earned my respect tonight. I still don't like him, but I respect him.

“How do you deal with this? OW!”

Eli Flair simply laughed at Ivy’s question. She was sitting on the medical table in black jeans and a red athletic bra, getting the back of her head stitched up from Teri Melton’s stealth guard.

“I do something different, Ivy,” replied Eli, “I see it coming. My opponents have the decency to attack me from the front with a chair. But you’ll survive. Gonna be out there for me and Hornet?”

She laughed at him. “Wouldn’t miss it. But I might have t’join Sammy and Bill on the stick… don’t know if I’ll be able to ‘manage.’

“Eli,” said Marvin Parsons, sticking his head in the tent, “Twenty minutes to go. Thomas wants you to meet him and Hornet briefly, alright?”

He hesitated, looking back toward Ivy.

“Go,” said Ivy, “How many times have I left you on this table to go take care of some other business? Go, I’ll be fine. I know everyone here, and I know where we parked the car.”

Eli laughed, gave her a quick hug, and left the room. The medic continued to stitch, clean, and stitch.

“I cost someone their job tonight,” said Ivy, trying to make conversation.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” replied the medic.

“Don’t be,” answered Ivy, “She was a real c---.”

“She means to say you're next, if you f--- the job up.”

Ivy smiled. “Hello, Mark.”

Mark Windham entered the room completely, dressed in his street clothes. “Feeling better now?”

“Much,” she replied, “It’s strange how you can take a decade of disappointment and turn it around in thirty seconds of a scorpion deathlock. Now it’s over, and I can take a breath.”

“True,” said Mark, “but we also weren’t finished before.”

“Okay, I’m finished,” said the medic, “Be sure to keep these stitches dry for the next day or so.”

Ivy grabbed a pair of mirrors and examined his work. There was not a stitch to be seen when her hair was down. “Thank you,” she replied, “you can go now.”

The medic left the room, and Ivy grabbed her shirt. Mark paced the floor for a few moments, then crossed his arms.

“What?” asked Ivy.

“You know what,” replied Mark, “Now that your fight’s over, now that you’ve got nothing left to do but walk away… is it really as easy as you wanted to believe?”

“Mark…”

“Don’t f---ing ‘Mark’ me, Ivy,” he said, “We weren’t finished before.”

“I know, Mark,” replied Ivy, “but think about it. Ten years now, we’ve known each other. Ten years now I’ve been getting drunk with Miles, clocking hundreds of miles a night with Eli, talking philosophy with you and Randalls and… everything else that’s happened. Do you really, really, really think I could just walk away without a word?”

Windham shrugged. It certainly seemed that way earlier, though he knew Ivy was not herself at the time.

"I just didn't know how to deal with it," continued Ivy, "there's so much I need to say to Thomas, and Rudy, and Sammy, and Paul... and you... that the only way to not go crazy over it was to not say any of it. You know how nutty I am, Mark... and you bloody well know how good I am at saying goodbye."

It was true, of course. Unlike an alarming 90% or so of the business, Ivy came from a good home and a stable family, with honest, hardworking parents. Her sister's tragic death a decade ago was the first time she had ever truly had to deal with letting go of a loved one, and Mark was well aware, along with the rest of the CSWA, that Ivy has never gotten over losing her parents three and four years ago.

"Is it goodbye with Eli after tonight?" asked Mark.

"Of course not," replied Ivy.

"Will you never see Sammy or Rudy or Miles or Paul again?"

"Most likely I will, but--"

"Then why does it have to be goodbye for anybody? Seriously, Ivy… you seemed almost resigned to never being backstage again.”

She thought about it. And thought about it. And fought through the haze that settled in on her brain while she thought about it some more. Why did it have to be goodbye?

Did it have to be goodbye?

“Mark, I—“

“What are you two doing in here? You both have to get ready!”

The perfect moment, or what could have been, was just interrupted by CSWA owner Stephen Thomas.

“Great timing, Stephen,” said Ivy, “Ten minutes and I’m golden.”

“I know, Ivy,” said Thomas, “but I need to have a conversation with you first. If you will…?”

Ivy looked at the CSWA owner, then back at Mark Windham. She nodded toward Thomas, before she grabbed Windham by the shoulders and kissed him hard on the lips.

"Thank you," she whispered, before she headed out of the medic room.

Windham let Ivy walk, her taste coated on his lips, and examined the table on which she formerly lay. Eyeing the drops of blood that escaped the now sutured gash, and freefalled onto the maroon leather table skin. The essence of Ivy; leaving pieces of her wherever she drifted to, never whole, never stopping to rope a sense of why she's crippled emotionally when silence breaks.

They're polar opposites. Windham and Ivy. The sort of pairing that could last forty years, or stricken the other with ulcers after twelve weeks in bonded quarters. Mark sees himself in her. Windham drifted for years, destroying everyone he ever cared for, or cared for him.
The Search. The Great Awakening that became a marketing ploy to color the "The Lost Soul" sellable again was an exercise in utter futility.

"A History of Corruption and Salvation," the title of Windham's memoirs that played like the grainy, lost footage of a silent film inside Mark's mind in the last year. What was he? What has he ever been? He humored himself mightily, pretending only he asked these questions of himself. Mark Windham was far from an original. He was, and is nothing. A failed draw in a company that no longer has a need for the name. A company that recast the part earlier this year, pushing a kid from the CS Training Center into public view as "Mark Windham" the same night he and Ivy agreed to an adult sleepover.

Windham was retired from wrestling now. His left shoulder ravaged beyond repair by Eli Flair, and his brother-in-law Timmy, a year ago, nearly to date.

Wrestling had given Mark two precious entities: Thelma, his daughter, and Ivy Lillian McGinnis.

He tried to tell her before, but over time he's come to question how receptive others are to the answers he brings. How did a kid, a five-star athlete who ignited Sweetwater, grow to become a Shrinking Violet?

End the passive aggressive bullshit and confess what you want; Turn from mouse back to man.

"Poison Ivy, rushing off again," Mark chided, dimples weighed by a smile, as he slunk up against the medic room doorframe.

Ivy, fifty-feet west, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Thomas, turned, exasperated by the patience of the man who once actually let himself be billed as "Mark Stonewall Jackson Windham."

"We're running a show, here," she reminded, more with her hands as they mimed wheels in motion. "And my head's been cracked open. What! What do you want from me?"

Windham walked the distance to McGinnis slowly, her coy laughter increasing in volume as he closed. Members of the production staff, snatched looks at the couple while they worked, specifically Mark who's lost twenty-five pounds since retirement. Shoulder-surgery, no weight training, etc., more light than heavyweight in '05.

Mark smoothed Ivy's blonde hair behind her ears gently, and softly rubbed the back of her neck. No, he's said it enough.

"I'm hoping you want something from me."

He turned loose, and began to walk in the opposite direction, as their personal history demands.

In eight minutes he was ref'ing the Eli Flair/Hornet match. He could care less about the entire affair. Becoming part of the show was the only way Thomas, the Corporate dog who's brainchild was to recast Stonewall Jackson as if he played a role on "Days Of Our Lives," would let Mark on the premises.

In her last night with the company, he did what was needed to say goodbye. With her gone, in an hour, he'll presumably say goodbye to the CSWA and it's nightmares for the final time as well.

BB: Up next, Sammy, one of the more highly-anticipated matches in what has already proven to be an eventful night, Steve Radder, now taking to calling himself “Mr. Showtime” is up against Kin Hiroshi …

SB: The Muffin Man!

BB: Yes, fans, it’s time for the Champion’s Challenge Final match, so let’s head in to the ring to the illustrious Mr. Rhubarb Jones!

SB: Rhubarb Muffins?

(Buckley groans.)

RHUBARB JONES: Ladies and Gentlemen! This match is scheduled for one-fall, and is to determine the #1 Contender for the CSWA United States Title! The winner to move on and face Hornet at a future event!

SB: The Bug …

BB: Sammy agreeing with Steve Radder. I never thought I’d see the day …

RJ: Introducing first …

(CUE MUSIC: “Crashing Around You by Machine Head”)

RJ: … Hailing from Tokyo, Japan, weighing 230 pounds, Kin Hirooooooooooshi!

(The lights fade, and a few moments later, a spotlight shines in the ring where Kin Hiroshi stands, bathed in blue light.)

BB: A mixed reaction for the self-styled …

SB: Muffin Man!

BB: Yes, the self-styled Muffin Man, Kin Hiroshi, who is stretching in the ring, oblivious it seems to the mixed reaction he is receiving.

RJ: And now, his opponent!

(CUE MUSIC: “Bulls On Parade” by Rage Against The Machine)

BB: Some of the fans are already coming out of their seats …

RJ: Hailing from Santa Monica, California, and weighing 240 pounds, former CSWA United States and World Heavyweight Champion, Miiiiiiister Showtime … Steve Radder!
BB: A great pop for the former champion which Radder acknowledges briefly with a wave as he heads down to the ring …

SB: Pfft, I’ve seen a better pop for the Depends man at an old-folks home …

BB: As always, fans, Sammy is his classy self. Radder is clad in what has become his normal ring attire, a long sleeved shell shirt, with a pair of athletic pants. He steps in the ring and quickly walks to the corner opposite Hiroshi, who is glaring at Radder across the ring.

SB: Yup, Radder’s lookin’ to take a bite out of …

BB: Yes, yes, we know. The bell rings, and we’re off! The two men circle each other once in the ring, with Hiroshi feinting a move towards Radder, who simply shoves the slightly smaller man back a couple of steps.

SB: He must be one of those new “light” Muffin Men …

BB: Now, Sammy, Kin Hiroshi was a successful business man …

SB: The match, Buckley, the match!

BB: There’s a first for everything … Radder meets Hiroshi back in the middle of the ring where he promptly delivers a blow to Hiroshi’s midsection. Normally we don’t see Radder duking it out with his opponents but Hiroshi actually gives up a little weight to the former champion.

SB: It’s because Hiroshi’s been on that low-carb diet …

BB: The two men lock up in the middle of the ring once again, where Radder again overpowers Hiroshi, whipping him to the ropes. Radder attempts a clothesline, but Hiroshi ducks under …. and hits Radder with a dropkick to the back!

SB: Did he sell those high-fiber muffins? Those kind of sneak up on you, too …

BB: Radder stumbled to his knees, but gets himself back up and chops Hiroshi across the chest.

(Fans: “WOO!”)

BB: Hiroshi backs off a couple steps, and Radder again whips him to the ropes … on the rebound, Hiroshi again ducks, but Radder’s anticipated it and grabs Hiroshi by the head, quickly dropping down into a DDT!

(Fans: “Oohh!”)

BB: Hiroshi shakes his head, getting to his knees, but Radder quickly delivers a kick to the mid-section, dropping Kin back to the mat, where Radder points at him, shouting!

(The only thing decipherable over the house mics, “… lose to a Muffin Man …”)

BB: Radder talking a little trash as he brings Hiroshi back to his feet, locking his opponent’s head under his left arm, the one with …

SB: The scar! Is it shaped like a lightning bolt?

BB: I don’t get it …

SB: Oh come on, Buckley, you’re a class-A nerd!

BB: Right, so, Steve Radder quickly snaps Kin Hiroshi over in a suplex! Radder has been in control of this match thus far, getting his offense in, while negating any attempts by Hiroshi to get on the attack.

SB: I hate to admit it, Buckley, but Radder’s right, it’s hard to be intimidated by a pastry salesman …

BB: Hiroshi is getting back to his feet, where Radder grabs him by the hand and whips him into the far corner. Radder turns briefly and holds his arms outstretched to the fans, who respond with a cheer!

(Suddenly the video wall cuts away from the usual CSWA logo that's seen during matches and turns into a snow-like state before being replaced with two large bolded words in red and blue ... “GOOD GOD”.)

BB: What the hell is this? What's going on …?

SB: And suddenly there’s a presence I haven't felt since ...

(CUE MUSIC: “(Can’t You) Trip Like I Do” by Filter and the Crystal Method. The video wall shows a montage of images of Kevin Powers laying opponents down with the Kiss the Canvas.)

BB: Radder’s lost his focus on the match! His nemesis … even his arch-nemesis … Kevin Powers … his music is playing! Radder is absolutely glaring towards the entrance ramp, while Kin Hiroshi is gathering himself in the corner! Why does this ALWAYS have to happen …

SB: The leader of Generation Lush has stumbled off of his wagon and has made his way to the CSWA for the umpteenth time. Oh, I'm so shocked ... not.

(CUTTO: As the music continues to blare 'Good God' Kevin Powers make his way to the top of the rampway and is greeted with a huge pop by the crowd in attendance. Looking out into the crowd, Powers, surprisingly wearing an old 'PLR' hockey jersey, holds out his arms in a 'T' while behind him, a white fountain of pyro goes off, exciting the crowd even more. Once the fountain goes out Powers makes his way down to the ring and continues to spark up the crowd by his presence.)

BB: I never thought I’d say this … I should know better … but, 'Good God' Kevin Powers has returned to the CSWA! The last time we saw him was back at Primetime 500!

SB: And Primetime 500 was the last time we saw Radder embarrass the overgrown Lush by pinning him in the center of the ring! Obviously you can't keep a good drunk down OR Powers for that matter.

BB: Say what you want, but Powers has managed to gain the Radder’s attention, who is none too pleased to say the very least.

SB: What Radder needs to do is to focus on the match! Forget about Powers and get your win!

BB: Getting a little emotional?

SB: Hey, it happens to the best of us. Do you want a Muffin Man for a champion? It’d be worse than the midgets!

BB: Apparently Powers merely wanted a ring side seat because he just pulled up a chair from the time keepers area and he's taking a seat.

SB: That's because he's just trying not to stumble anymore. Never trust a lush!

BB: While all this has been going on, Kin Hiroshi has snuck up behind Steve Radder who is still glaring at Powers. Hiroshi drops to his knees, hooks Radder’s leg into a pin … one, two, and Radder barely kicks out, keeping his hopes alive!

SB: Pay … ATTENTION!

BB: Yes, fans, Steve Radder almost got a lesson in paying attention to his opponent, Kin Hiroshi, who starts in on Radder with vicious chops to the chest.

(FANS: “Woo!”)

BB: Radder is staggering under this offensive attack by Kin Hiroshi, who turns and runs for the ropes, hitting Radder with a massive dropkick on the rebound, spilling Radder over to the ropes and on to the floor!

SB: Powers must really be gone … he’s just sitting in his chair staring off …

BB: Radder is trying to pick himself up, while Hiroshi climbs to the top rope, and splashes himself down onto the prone Mr. Showtime! Heeding the warning of the referee, Kin Hiroshi quickly slides back into the ring, arms out in protest at the official’s admonishment!

SB: Mr. Showtime’s getting up … he’s climbed back in the ring …

BB: Only to be met with a sit-down dropkick to the chops by Kin Hiroshi! Radder is staggered, though he manages to pull himself back in the ring.

SB: Powers is actually CHEERING for him!

BB: Hiroshi is the one taking Radder to the air this time, with a spectacular fisherman’s suplex into the center of the ring!

SB: Muffin Man was looking a little stale earlier but he’s freshening up!

BB: This time it’s Radder trying to shake out the cobwebs as Hiroshi picks him up and promptly drops Radder with his own DDT, this time of the reverse variety.

(Outside the ring, Powers is clapping his hands, emphatically cheering on one of the combatants, though it is unclear who he is rooting for.)

BB: Again, Hiroshi climbs to the top rope, while Radder is slowly pulling himself to his feet. Hiroshi leaps off the top turnbuckle, but Radder drops to his side, connecting with a desperation kick to Hiroshi’s forehead! Both men are down on opposite sides of the ring.

SB: The Lush has managed to get to his feet! The shock!

BB: Radder is the first to his feet, going to Kin Hiroshi and hitting him with a blow to the back of the head, sending Hiroshi back to the mat on his stomach. Radder picks him up, grabs him in a full-nelson ….

SB: The Muffin Man’s still fresh!

BB: Yes, Kin Hiroshi gets out, knowing if Radder hit that move it would be lights out! Powers gives a disappointed look at ringside. He might actually be cheering for Radder!

BB: Stranger things have happened ... midgets …

BB: Radder moves to Hiroshi and kicks him in the gut, doubling him over! On the offensive now is Steve Radder, Mr. Showtime, who manages to lift Hiroshi over his head and deliver a massive powerbomb! That came out of nowhere! Radder is stumbling around the ring, and Powers is out of the ring smirking!

SB: End this Radder, squish the Muff …

BB: That is getting REALLY old, Sammy. Folks, this could be it as Hiroshi looks absolutely stunned, which is not a good place to be! Radder is setting up for Absolute Zero! He's creeping up behind Hiroshi for the move and ...

(Suddenly Powers jumps onto the ring steps and makes as if he’s getting in the ring.)

BB: ... What IS Powers doing?

SB: If I didn't know any better, Buckley, I would swear that he's cheering Radder on. Now I KNOW he's drunk!

BB: I’ve been saying that all along, Sammy!

SB: That Powers is drunk?

BB: No, that … oh, forget it! Radder notices Powers’ closeby presence and pushes Hiroshi away and makes his way towards Powers! The fans are all getting out of their seats!

SB: This isn't a wise move on Radder's part, but what wise move has Radder ever made? Can you think of any Buckley ‘cause I sure can't! He should have LISTENED to ME!

BB: He's made several in the past Sammy, being a former World Champion, but I'll have to agree with you right now because Radder is yelling at Powers, but Powers is telling him to go for the pin. Powers WANTS Radder to win?

SB: Drunk I say. Drunk as a skunk!

BB: Radder is looking mighty confused and I can't blame him, but he's taking Powers’ advice. Radder turns around and makes his way towards a groggy Hiroshi ...

SB: DAMN! Hiroshi just released some of that inner thunder and cold cocked Radder dead in the mug!

BB: Hiroshi was playing possum, even so he did have enough time to recover considering Powers got Radder's attention! Hiroshi bounces off the ropes and jumps over Radder ... N.F.M.!!! N.F.M.!!! Hiroshi just hit that sunset flip slash piledriver combination of his on Radder!

SB: Nagasaki Fat Man. Where do they come up with these wonderful names.

BB: This could be it! ONE! TWO! THREE! Can you believe it! Kin Hiroshi has just defeated Steve Radder, pinning him out of nowhere, and has become the number one contender to the United States Title!

SB: It’s quiet … too quiet.

BB: The fans are in shock! They don’t know what to do … it’s like they know this isn’t over. You can cut the tension …

SB: Like a knife through warm butter about to go onto a muffin!

(At that moment Powers slides in with a steel chair and begins checking on Radder.)

SB: Powers is actually checking on Radder! What has the world come to? Are drinks free tonight or something?

BB: Hiroshi is taking exception to this because he’s just shoved Powers from behind!

SB: Very gutsy for the Muffin Man.

(Powers, shocked, turns and looks at Hiroshi before taking a swing at him with the steel chair, but misses because Hiroshi stepped out of the way. After the wild swing, Powers sets the chair aside, turning back to Hiroshi in the ring, where Radder is still on the mat.)

BB: Now Powers is stalking Hiroshi! What is Powers thinking?

SB: Powers? Thinking? Isn't that a oxymoron?

(Radder slowly begins to make his way up and can barely believe what his eyes are telling him; that Powers is after Hiroshi.)

BB: Radder is finally making it up to his feet and I think he is even shocked to see the events going on!

SB: Can someone check in the back and see if any cases of beer were stolen from the concession stand? Anyone? This is important!

(As Radder makes his way closer, the shock of seeing his former friend Kevin Powers defending him turns into horror as Powers turns around and waffles Radder with a haymaker to the jaw.)

SB: I ... KNEW IT! Pay up Buckley!

BB: Pay up? We never bet! And look at Powers! He's not letting up on Radder now!

SB: Some things ... never change.

Powers raises back and cracks Radder on the head again while he's on the canvas. Powers then moves towards Hiroshi, raises his hand and Hiroshi jumps up and slaps it.)

BB: Hiroshi just gave a high five to Powers! This was a set up all along!

SB: Seriously. You didn't see this coming?

BB: What is Powers doing now? He’s just handed that steel chair to Hiroshi and he's picking up Radder! Wait! He's got Radder hooked and ... he wouldn't dare!

SB: This is Powers we're talking about, Buckley, the same person who put a former CSWA owner through the canvas. I'm pretty sure he would dare!

BB: He's got Radder up ... KISS THE CANVAS!!! KISS THE CANVAS!!! Powers just hit his slingshot powerbomb and planted Radder right in the center of the ring!!!

SB: Seven months he was away, but today Powers makes Radder pay for what happened at Primetime 500!

BB: This is incredible! Powers and Hiroshi are celebrating together in the ring to a huge chorus of boos from the fans, bowing sarcastically with their hands linked together! Steve Radder is still out in the middle of the ring, stirring a little as this duo celebrate on each side of the ring.

SB: I haven’t heard booing this loud since the Depends man didn’t show up at the old folk’s home!

BB: How would you kn … I don’t want to know. Steve Radder is finally up to his knees. Just roll out of the ring, Steve, don’t take any more of this …

SB: We know he won’t! It’s Radder! The Coolest of the Mr. Showtimes!

BB: Radder shakes his head, and stumbles over to Powers, whom he shoves in the back! Powers quickly spins and both men have each other by the collar, one fist cocked at the sides of their heads, Radder looking up at the taller Powers.

SB: As my twenty-something date last night said, THIS IS INTENSE!

BB: I can’t believe … anyway, these two men are just glaring at each other while Hiroshi is watching smugly to the side. Finally Powers chuckles, and shoves Radder by the … oh my … his shirt has just ripped away completely …

SB: WHAT THE ****!!!

(An audible gasp from the fans.)

BB: STEVE RADDER … THAT SCAR … IT’S … IT’S … HORRIBLE.

(Radder looks down and notices his shirt is gone. His eyes flare wide, and he spins back to Powers.)

BB: RADDER JUST CLOCKED POWERS IN THE JAW! WHAT A SHOT! POWERS STUMBLES BACKWARD, THAT SCAR … MY GOD! RADDER SPINS ON HIROSHI AND CLOCKS HIM, TOO! HIROSHI SLUMPS TO THE CANVAS IN SHOCK!

SB: WHAT THE ****!!!

BB: Radder has grabbed the tatters of his shirt and wrapped it around his left arm. Sammy, that scar, it was gruesome, it’s about half an inch thick and it twists all the way around ..

SB: WHAT THE ****!!!

BB: All the way around his left arm, straight to the shoulder and even past, I think! It even looked like a shattered piece of glass over his elbow … I’ve never … not even Randalls …

SB: WHAT THE …

BB: Enough, Sammy! Steve Radder has hurriedly made his way backstage with that shirt around his left arm, the fans absolutely quiet, I … I don’t know what to say …

SB: …

BB: Sammy Benson is turning green beside me and is speechless … this is incredible … fans, I don’t know what to say …

Backstage, STEVE RADDER is fuming. No, not fuming. Raging. He's just lost to Kin Hiroshi, but that doesn't matter. Not now. His torn, tattered ring shirt is haphazardly wrapped around his left arm, with only his hand poking out. It ripped. It fell off. It was there for everyone to see. The scar. The one he didn't want to deal with. The one he didn't know if he could deal with.

He shoves open the door of his dressing room, still fuming, slamming the door shut behind him, kicking the garbage bin across the room.

Then her face comes to him, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. He's a little more calm now, pacing around the room, shaking his head. It happened. Deep down, he knew it would someday, but he just never thought the day would come when it did. His baby was home.

"Tammy," Radder says, "Are you hungry?"

"Yep," she says, grinning at him.

"Peanut butter?" He asks.

"Yep," she says again.

Radder smiles. "With honey? Peanut Butter, honey, and ..."

"Jelly!" She squeals, widening his grin even further.

"Sand?"

"No, Daddy, Jelly!"

"Rocks?"

"No!"

"Worms?"

"NO!"

"Jelly?"

"YES!" She shouts, running across the kitchen and leaping into his arms. Steve Radder hasn't grinned this much in some time. It feels like his face is going to break. It feels wonderful. He's smiling even though he's just lost his belt to Evan Aho. It doesn't matter. She's home, he's taking some time off ...

Then his grin fades. As she leapt up to him, her dress flew out, showing her little knees, which are bruised. Not Weird for a three-year-old, but ... the ones on her arms, those are. His eyes narrow, though he goes to make her sandwich, and a phone call.

Five minutes later, she's devoured the sandwich, waiting for him to come back. He puts his best smile on, telling her, "Baby, we're going to go see Grandma. Is that OK?"

She nods eagerly, and runs to the door. The smile falls off his face, and he follows her out to the car. The drive's uneventful. When they get there, Radder makes as if he's forgotten something at home, asking them both if they're ok for a bit. Of course they are, they respond, and Radder thanks them, going back to the car.

It doesn't take him all that long to get to Kelly's place. Radder's Mom lives out on the Island, and so does Kelly. And him. He gets out of the car, slamming the door, already feeling his heart racing.

He can hear the TV on through the door, the sounds of some monster truck rally serenading him. He wants to pound on the door but instead knocks politely. Bo answers. His first mistake. Radder's face contorts as he shoves the 'neck into the house, and following him.

"You ****." Radder's wanted to say that for some time.

"WHAT ARE YEE-OU DO ..." Bo's cut off as Radder socks him in the face, opening a cut on Bo's face and his own hand. He hasn't heard Kelly scream yet. She must be out. Spending Radder's money.

"Shut up. You hit her. Now I'm going to take it out on your ass."

"I DIDN' GIVE THAT BRAT ANYTHIN' SHE DIDN' DEE-SERVE," Bo says, blood already oozing out of the cut on his cheek. He's smiling.

Radder yells, charging, shoving Bo against the far wall. Bo is doubled over, and Radder backs off, hitting him square in the jaw again.

"THAT ALL YEE-OU GOT?" Bo's panting, but egging Radder on.

Again, Radder charges, shoving Bo's fist away as it flies toward his face. He grabs Bo by the collar, spinning them around, so Bo's back is to the large picture window in the living room. Radder shoves again, seperating them. Bo stumbles over one of Tammy's holdover toys, which is sitting on the floor. Radder charges again, hitting Bo in the mid-section, doubling him over Radder's shoulder.

The two men hit the picture window, smashing through it. The glass cracks, falling into several jagged pieces. Unfortunately, one stays hanging from the frame. Radder's left arm drags along it, twisting as they fall out onto the lawn. Radder's left arm is already covered in blood, even as he hits the grass on the yard. Amazingly, Bo isn't busted up too much more than he already was.

"The money's cut off." Radder pants, not even noticing his arm. "Your **** will be too if you come near her again. Or if you tell your ***** that I was here." To highlight his point, Radder picks up a piece of broken glass, holding it to Bo's crotch.

"Got it?" Bo nods, amazingly. It's kind of funny how persuasive a threat like the one Radder gave can be.

Radder gets up, and starts walking to his car, finally noticing the fact that his left arm is absolutely covered in blood. He still feels no pain. Getting in the car, he wraps his arm in an old shirt, which will have to do until he gets to the emergency room.

He turns on the car, letting out a huge breath. He's really going to need to calm down if he's going to get through this.

It's going to be a bigger deal than he thought. All of the sudden his next matches ... they don't seem such a big deal right now. Giving his head a shake, Radder sits on the bench in the room, holding his head in his hands.

And then his eyes fix on the open package, still sitting on the floor.

The scene quickly shot to the backstage area where 'Good God' Kevin Powers and Kin Hiroshi were standing by one of the catering tables set up for the wrestlers and crew. As they continued to converse with one another, Billy Buckley made his way towards them with a camera crew. With microphone in hand he went directly up towards Powers who was caught off-guard.

"Kevin Powers. On your first day back to the CSWA in more than seven months, you viciously attack your former friend Steve Radder costing him the chance to be the number one contender for the United States Championship. Would you care to explain your actions?"

Powers stood frozen for a second while Hiroshi moved to the side to see who was talking to the Chicago native. Turning around, Powers looked down at Buckley and smiled for a second before showing a serious look.

"First of all I don't have to explain a damn thing to you little man. You are nothing more than the paper on the bottom of the birdcage. What I did out there today was WELL justified and if people didn't enjoy my actions, TOUGH! Besides, who you NEED to interview is The Man from M.U.F.F.I.N. 'The Japanese Thunder' Kin Hiroshi. This man here, whom I have all my faith and confidence in, is set to challenge the United States Champion and reign all over his parade! And, when he takes that strap why stop there? After all, if the CSWA can see it being cool by having Steve Radder and Mark Vizzack as their champions then."

Stopping Powers in mid-sentence, Buckley was quick to chime in and point out Powers past accomplishments.

"Spewing jealousy again Kevin Powers? Just because you choked up and could never capture the biggest title in CSWA?"

Silence filled the room after Buckley's last comment. Powers starred at him for about five seconds before he turned towards Hiroshi. Kin, at the same time, shook his head in disagreement then looked at Powers. At the same time both let out an expression.

"Hmmm…"

Powers then turned back towards Buckley and smiled.

"Well then."

At that moment Powers surprised Buckley with a swift boot to his mid-section buckling over the CSWA correspondent. While Hiroshi went towards one of the tables to brush off some of the food and beverages that were available for everyone, Powers picked up Buckley in a powerbomb move then executed the move by dropping Buckley through the table to the ground below. As Powers towered over the fallen reporter, Hiroshi grabbed the microphone and handed it to Powers.

"Billy boy, didn't your dad ever teach you to mind your manners? You don't stand on Superman's cape, you don't piss in the wind, and you DAMN SURE do NOT cross a FIRE DRINKING AYATOLLAH OF RUM AND COLA!!!"

Off in the distance a team of EMT's, officials, and other on hand workers run over to attend to the fallen Billy Buckley. Powers backs up a few feet and gets the cameraman's attention.

"Now, as the EMT's attend to your retarded ass, let's get to the basics. Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, be on your guard cause THE DOUBLE G KP IS BACK! I've had seven months, SEVEN MONTHS, to think about my life and I came to one conclusion. Was it retirement? Thought about it, but it ain't an option. Especially when my phone is ringing off the hook, 'Kevin are you gonna come back? Kevin we NEED you to come back! Kevin we need you to call our office in Greensboro!' "

Suddenly Kin Hiroshi jumps in and offers a few more comments.

"Mr. Powers you have the following pornographic movies still out and they've been due two months ago, 'Midgets In BBW Space'. "

Powers closes his eyes after hearing this comment and stands still before busting out with laughter.

"That’s what I like about this man! Always a great sense of humor, but on a side note, have you ever seen a porn movie with BBW’s and midgets? OH MY GOD!

But, like I said, you have to have a sense of humor ESPECIALLY when you swim in the shark filled waters of CSWA! People getting involved with other people’s matches. Getting involved in other’s lives inside and outside of the squared circle it can drive ya mad, I tell you, MAD! People around here worried about THEIR SPOT in the CSWA, it makes me sick! Not too long ago you had that big armed no brain GUNS runnin’ around spewing his usual line of crap. “Oh we should respect him. He’s earned his right in the wrestling business. Nobody better get in his way otherwise you'll find your ass in the third row.” Blah, blah, blah! I stepped to his ass and we were supposed to have a match, but what happens? Can you guess? Wanna take a shot? Kin?"

"He went back to the ranch and realized that Heather was really into women?"

Powers shoots a surprised look at Hiroshi who returns it by shrugging his shoulders.

"HA HA! I LOVE THIS MAN’S SENSE OF HUMOR! But GUNS? HE NEVER SHOWED UP! This just proves a point and everyone take note of this. GUNS and the rest of those morons walk around here like they're some type of bully, but if you step to them then run away like scared little BITCHES! For years people have been getting involved in my matches just because they think they could punk me around. Hell, even RADDER got involved when I faced Aho several months back. He probably thinks he’s the one that put me out of the CSWA forever! Well, the so-called Amber Alert is over cause I'm back and WE are about to run the gauntlet in CSWA!

First of all my man here, Kin Hiroshi, is gonna bring honor to Japan one more time when he gets in the ring and wins the United States Championship from…"

Before he can continue, Powers stops in mid-sentence and tries to figure out what he's going to say.

"Now thinking about it, who IS the United States Champion? Alder?

Flair?

Any of the Windhams?

Melton?"

Hiroshi lets out an idea on who it could be.

"Cruise?"

They look at each other after Hiroshi's comment and both begin to laugh uncontrollably. Eventually, Powers gains his composure and continues on.

"No wait I know! The last time we seen the United States Championship actually DEFENDED was when then champion Tom Alder took on, and eventually lost the title to, HORNET! And, considering the subject, I’m gonna let my main man Hiroshi tell you what he has in store for one Mr. Hornet!"

Powers hands the microphone off to Hiroshi and the man from Japan is more than ready to share his views on the United States title situation.

“Listen, Hornet, man. I’ve already steamrolled Radder, I blasted past Logic, now all that’s left is you. Desperate men do desperate things for control and power. Hell, I poisoned a few men to try and get to the top, and look where it got me: back to square one with no one believing that I can do what no one else can. Powers here has known for a long time that I’m the real deal, that’s why he’s standing next to me today. You, on the other hand, Hornet, are going to make the same mistakes that everyone else has: you’re going to underestimate me, you’re going to try and out talk the best trash talker around, and then you’re going to try and out wrestle me.

“It’s not going to happen. See, I’ve constantly been underestimated by people, and I’ve always shown them up with my words and my skill in the ring. You’re going to lose that strap to me, Hornet, and there’s nothing you, Radder, Thomas or anyone can do about it. I want it more and I need it more. I’ve earned this shot, and it’s not often that Kin Hiroshi earns a title shot anymore, so you best be watching your back, or you’ll be getting calls at midnight from your baby’s mama wondering when the next child support check is coming. Only you won’t be able to deliver because you’re too damn old to be making money in this business anymore.”

Hiroshi hands the microphone back to Powers and he begins to reflect.

"July 8, 1998. That was the day that I showed my face in the CSWA for the very first time. Fought 'The Crippler' Cameron Cruise in the first round of the World Title tourney, but that's all retro cause we're 7 years past that. Less than a year ago the company switched hands, but nothing changed except for the cash flow which SERIOUSLY DIPPED IN A DOWNWARD FASHION! I was just happy to finish up my contract and get the job done. But now? How fitting this Pay Per View has been nicknamed Rebirth cause it is, in fact, a new beginning for The Double G KP! And, first up on my ass whippin' list is none other than that oxygen bandit himself Steve Radder. Did ya enjoy New Year's Eve at Primetime 500? I damn sure didn't you miserable piece of crap. I sure as in Hell hope you got the message Radder, but something tells me you didn't. You wanna say something to me then spit your venom. You wanna jump frog? Then come on and leap big cause I am MORE than ready to make you first on the list to get his ass whipped USDA GRADE A PRIME STYLE!"

Both Powers and Hiroshi begin to walk off, but they obviously remember something and turn back to the camera.

"Oh yeah Steve, and one more thing, we just wanted to say ...

... Happy Anniversary"

Powers looks over towards the EMT's still helping out Buckley and gives a snicker before he drops the microphone and walks out of the picture with Hiroshi.

BB: There’s nothing much else we can say about this next match, Sammy, so let’s just get on up to Rhubarb for the festivities.

SB: I could say plenty, Buckley. At least one of the men in this match will not be involved in the title picture again, so why are they so high on the card?

BB: Some things, Sammy… I think you’ll never understand.

SB: Think again, Buckley.

RHUBARB JONES: This next contest is a special attraction, scheduled for one fall, with a thirty minute time limit. Introducing first, the special guest referee for this historic contest…

BB: Guest referee?

SB: Don’t look at me, Buckley.

Love is a flame that can be tamed… and though you’re its willing prey… my darling… we are not the ones to blame…

BB: LISTEN TO THE PEOPLE CHEER FOR THE LIVING LEGEND!

SB: Is he the Living Legend again? I thought he was the Lost Soul.

BB: Either way, Sammy, Mark Stonewall Jackson Windham is headed to ringside, wearing a red and black shirt that is, I suppose, as close as he’s going to get to referee’s stripes. It’s almost fitting that he’s refereeing this match. Besides Mickey Benedict, who ended his career with those shoulder spikes, it’s arguable that Mark’s two greatest opponents were his former tag team partner and best friend, Hornet, and the man who crippled his brother Troy, Eli Flair.

SB: So is he going to just kick both their asses then, or what?

BB: Sammy! You have to admire the integrity of this man, Mark Windham. It’s a hard thing for an athlete to be out of the sport, not due to their own free will but to injury, and it’s harder still to watch other people still competing. But Mark was determined to take part in this historic event, in any way he could.

SB: ‘I shall, I do.’

BB: What?

SB: Read a book, Buckley.

BB: Windham in the ring, and he’s shaking hands with Rhubarb Jones. These two men go back nearly all seventeen years, Sammy… like the first participant in this match.

RJ: Introducing first, from Greensboro, North Carolina…

In light of my present mess; in light of my mental weather’s turn… In light of all the crash and burn, I’ll open my mind as wide as ever…

RJ: Weighing in at two hundred and sixty three pounds, he is the three–time former UNIFIED World Champion, four–time former CSWA World Heavyweight Champion… he is the immortal, the incomparable… the—

SB: Get on with it!

BB: He’s got a monitor, Sammy, he heard you.

RJ: THIS… IS… HORNET!!

BB: Listen to these fans giving it up for the Greatest American Hero!

SB: Is that the current nickname?

BB: Say what you will about the past five years, Sammy, but the fact remains that whether Hornet has been the Greatest American Hero or the Businessman or the ClaimStaker, he has always given his all in the ring, and these fans are currently showing their appreciation for seventeen long, difficult years of service that this man has given. Hornet is slapping hands all around, these fans saw him wrestle on these very grounds seventeen years ago, and every year since!

SB: Almost every year. He was banned for nine.

BB: Good point, Sammy. But still, every ANNIVERSARY show, save one, is an impressive record to be sure! Hornet is in the ring, and he and Windham are giving each other a wide berth. Two former best friends, former bitter enemies… the message is clear, Sammy. Don’t start none, won’t be none.

RJ: And his opponent…

Welcome… to the soldier side… where there’s noone here but me… People… all grow up to die… there is noone here but me…

RJ: From New York, New York, weighing in at three hundred and two pounds… and accompanied to the ring by the Manager of Champions, Poison Ivy…

WHYDOTHEYALWAYSSENDTHEPOOR?

BB: Listen to these fans, Sammy!

SB: Stop saying that!

Everybody’s going to the party, have a real good time… Dancing in the desert, blowing up the sunshine…

RJ: He is a former CSWA World Heavyweight Champion, former Fans Wrestling Organization World Heavyweight Champion, former Asylum Fighting World Champion, along with eleven other World Championship reigns. He is the King of Extreme, he is the Original Nobody, and he is ‘Total Elimination’ ELI FLAIRRRRRR!!!

BB: Ivy McGinnis looking surprisingly well–rested and alert with her trademark Singapore Cane in her hand, considering the fact that the preliminary medical report was that she received seven stitches in the back of her head and a concussion after her conflict with Teri.

SB: Functioning with her brains loose is a fairly standard procedure for her. Haven’t you been paying attention?

BB: Yes, Sammy, I’ve been paying attention, and so has she. Ivy is headed in our direction!

SB: Crikey…

BB: Eli Flair in the ring, and he’s finally given the fans a nod of appreciation, as he, too, gives Mark Windham a wide berth. They had their fight just last year at CSWA15.

SB: Only this company could have their fifteenth anniversary and seventeenth anniversary a year apart. Did they find Melba Parsons to title these things?

BB: Sammy!

(SFX: Rustling of sound, as Poison Ivy sat down next to Sammy and put the spare headset on.)

IVY: Good to see you gentlemen again. And you too, Sammy.

SB: Don't start with that, darlin'. You took my Hooters away, you're dead to me.

IVY: You'll survive, Sammy. I'll make sure of it.

SB: Great. From where, the Three Miles Circus?

BB: Sammy!

IVY: You haven't heard, I take it.

BB: Heard what?

IVY: Commissioner Thomas offered me a job after my match, and I took it. EVP of Daily Operations.

BB: Congratulations, Ivy!

SB: Wait... this means...

IVY: That's right, Sammy. Not only am I not finished with the CSWA, but I'll be in charge of the day to day details that Thomas doesn't have time to deal with. Which means I'll be on tour with the company, every... single... day. Which means I'm proud to announce that following CSWA17, we'll be headed out on another POOLJAM tour for the duration of the summer and autumn.

SB: Will you be joining us poolside, too?

IVY: Which also means, Sammy... that I'm now your boss.

SB: Mommy...

BB: Windham giving his instructions to both Hornet and Flair, I think the best instruction he could give is 'Don't break the rules and I won't get in your face.'

IVY: Which would lead to 'Get in our faces and we'll start a game of Kill the Ref.'

BB: Exactly. All three of these men have had history in one way or another, and I think things are just about calm enough that there won't be an out of control fight.

SB: Well that's boring.

BB: The bell has rung, and we've got a collar-and-elbow tieup to start. Side headlock by Flair, and Hornet sends him into the ropes. Shoulderblock... and neither man goes down!

IVY: Although, Hornet did back up a step. Eli has the weight advantage of about forty pounds and he's going to have to use it to win here.

BB: Another tie-up, and this time, Hornet with a rear waistlock! Eli with an elbow--HORNET DUCKED IT! Hook of the arm, and a modified takedown bridge! ONE... TWO... KICKOUT!

IVY: It's far too early to expect a pinfall, but that right there shows why Hornet is still considered one of the best in the world. He has that rare gift to be able to turn practically anything into an advantage for himself.

SB: If that was true, he'd have just won.

IVY: Want to go back to rehab?

SB: ...

IVY: Thought not.

BB: A third collar–and–elbow tieup, and Eli with a reverse headlock! Hornet steps into it and blocks a potential DDT or Suplex attempt, but Eli wrenched his body with an over–the side takedown—

SB: Is that even a word?

BB: —and he’s got Hornet on the mat! The former Unified Champion bridges, and keeps his shoulders off the mat like any skilled wrestler, but Eli has the pressure on his arms and neck, and something’s going to have to break!

IVY: They know each other far too well to just blindly rush in, Bill.

BB: Eli lets up, and a kick to the side just broke Hornet’s bridge… legdrop! Right across the chest, Eli with the cover, ONE… TWO… Kickout! Neither man is willing to be defeated that easily!

IVY: Count the World Titles between ‘em, Buckley… they didn’t get there by being easy to beat.

SB: In other, equally shocking news, the sun is a big ball of gas that sits at the center of our solar system.

IVY: You think you’re irreplaceable, but you’re not.

SB: Oh, I know I’m irreplaceable.

IVY: …But you still cry if punched.

SB: Cruel, but true.

BB: Eli with a scoop, and he whipped Hornet into the ropes! He ducked a clothesline attempt… HORNET EATS AN ELBOW! He staggers backwards, and Eli with a right hand just sent his opponent stumbling to his knees, holding onto the middle rope!

IVY: Doesn’t matter how tough you are, Buckley… enough shots in a short enough timeframe and even the toughest goes down.

BB: Eli with a boot to the head, and Windham in there telling him to back off! Hornet is on the ropes, Sammy, Ivy… and that means a break.

IVY: Tell that to Eli. ****, tell that to Hornet.

SB: Language, kitten.

IVY: I’m in charge, fat man.

BB: Eli off the opposite ropes, and he charges in with a Yakuza kick! NO! Hornet slid under Eli’s leg and raised up, dropping the King of Extreme to the mat! He held onto the leg… SCORPION DEATHLOCK!

SB: Who taught him that?

BB: NO! Eli blocked Hornet’s step-over, and a twist of the body dropped the Greatest American Hero to the mat!

SB: Hornet’s biggest asset has always been balance, but when your leg is pulled out from under you, you go down faster than Teri at a millionaire’s club meeting.

IVY: Removed from power less than an hour and you’re already dropping insults?

SB: Waste not, want not.

BB: Now, Eli attempting to lock on a Scorpion while he still has Hornet’s leg locked… and the Greatest American Hero reaches the ropes! The man who made that hold famous certainly knows what kind of damage it could do, Sammy!

SB: Or he just needed a breather.

BB: Eli to his feet, and Hornet quickly follows… and another tieup! Hornet gets underneath and maneuvers Eli into the corner, and Windham there with the count! Cross – corner whip… and a quick clothesline flattens Eli! I’m surprised he didn’t go for a Hornet Splash there!

IVY: He’d be airborne for it, and if Eli was able to defend himself, that’s a bad place to be. With a clothesline, both of Hornet’s feet are on the ground.

SB: She’s rabid, but smart.

IVY: I’d be more worried about the fact that Hornet just turned the momentum around for probably the fourth or fifth time in this match. Eli needs to take a breather so he can play defense.

BB: He also has nothing to lose in this match.

IVY: But it’d still be nice to win his last CSWA match.

BB: Hornet back to the corner, and a monkeyflip just took Eli out and landed him, back–first on the mat! This may be the time for a Shooting Star Press, one of Hornet’s specialties for special occasions!

IVY: Again, Buckley… pot kettle black. Let the man work.

SB: She told you!

BB: Hornet paced the ring, waiting for Eli to get up, and a dropkick to the back of the neck! Eli scrambled forward to pull himself up on the ropes, but Hornet was there with a hair pull—

SB: That’s not fair… what gives Windham the right to actually tell someone they’re breaking the rules?

IVY: He’s the referee, Sammy. That’s what referees do.

SB: Don’t you have a concussion?

BB: Hornet lets go of the hair, and he drives an elbow to Eli’s face! Whip across the ring, and Eli holds onto the ropes! Clothesline… BACK BODY DROP OVER THE TOP ROPE! Eli fell to his knees inside the ring before he suddenly popped back to his feet, but Hornet landed on his feet and collapsed to his knees!

IVY: It’s the oldest trick in the book, but it always works. If you can dump your opponent outside, you’ve got a few seconds to gather your thoughts.

BB: Eli off the ropes… BASEBALL SLIDE! Hornet just fell backwards onto Pedro and Eduardo at the Spanish Announce Table!

SB: They take so much abuse for so little pay.

BB: Eli off the ropes again… HORNET WITH ONE OF THE MONITORS! He just cracked it against the bottom of Eli’s foot as he came off with another baseball slide!

SB: Way to be, Hornet… taking out the bottom of his foot. Not that he’s got steel toes or anything.

IVY: Every little bit helps, Sammy… don’t you know how this business works?

SB: I’d respond in kind but I don’t want to embarrass you.

BB: Stop it, Sammy! Hornet used what he had available to him, and he grabs Eli by the ankle and pulls him outside! Mark Windham starts the count, but Hornet with a pair of chops to the chest, and a whip into the stairs!

IVY: Mark is definitely of the mind to let these two guys go at it, especially outside the ring.

SB: So he doesn’t care about the rules?

IVY: And you do?

SB: I never said I was perfect.

BB: Hornet with another scoop, and a slam on the blue mats! They may be there for safety, but they don’t provide very much protection to a bodyslam!

IVY: I can attest to that, firsthand.

BB: Hornet slides back into the ring, and Windham’s count is at four! Eli has rolled to his knees, and he looks like he’s ready to slide back into the ring!

IVY: Why? Take your five seconds, Eli… make sure you’ve got a plan.

BB: That may be all he’s got, as Eli paces the outside, looking like he needs one! Finally, the King of Extreme slides back into the ring, and a forearm to the back of the head stops him in his tracks! Irish whip to the opposite ropes, and a dropkick dropped the former fWo World Champion in his tracks! Now he’s going for it! NO! Eli with a lunge, grabbed the ropes and stopped the Scorpion dead in its tracks!

SB: Hornet keeps going for it, one of these times it’s gonna bite him in the ass.

IVY: Or he might get it. Either way, Eli needs to be careful.

BB: Hornet backs off, but he’s still got his sights set on his opponent! Scoop, and a gut – wrench suplex by the former UNIFIED World Champion! Hornet has complete control here, and I think he’s gotta be thinking about ending it soon, and fast!

IVY: Both of these men are conditioned to wrestle indefinitely, Buckley… even a momentary advantage could mean the difference between winning and losing.

BB: Another scoop… and a shot to the gut by Eli Flair! The impact knocked him to his knees, but he followed up with a DDT! Quick cover, ONE… TWO… KICKOUT!

SB: See? He kicked out!

BB: Because he’s too tough. But either man could end it on a dime, Sammy. We’ve seen that time and time again.

SB: Then one of them should do so.

BB: Eli with a handful of hair, and a European uppercut just knocked Hornet back into the ropes! And another! Hornet fires back! Eli fires back! Hornet fires back, and an irish whip! Eli off the opposite ropes, and Hornet with a sleeperhold!

SB: When’s the last time this ended anything?

IVY: Y’never know, Sammy. It's the second one we've seen tonight.

BB: Hornet has it locked in good and tight, and he’s got Eli bent in such a way that he can’t get any leverage! Eli drops to his knees!

SB: I could make a joke now—

IVY: —but there’d be several people lined up to hurt you.

BB: Mark raises Eli’s arm… ONE! And again… TWO! NO! He’s kept his arm in midair, and a quick reversal just sent Hornet sailing over his shoulder and to the mat! Eli stays on his knees, however… the lack of oxygen has to have affected him!

SB: Not too much, he’s back in the fray!

BB: Eli with a falling axehandle on the former UNIFIED Champion! Scoop, and a cross–corner whip! NO! REVERSAL! HORNET SPLASH! HORNET SPLASH!

SB: Well, that was fun.

BB: Hornet just reversed Eli’s whip to the corner, and he followed up with a surprise Hornet Splash! That’s all she wrote, ONE… TWO… THREE! KICKOUT!

SB: How?

BB: I don’t know, Sammy, but that may be a first! Eli Flair has just kicked out of the Hornet Splash!

IVY: Never underestimate the desperate and the stubborn.

BB: Hornet looks at Windham in disbelief, but the Lost Soul insists it was a kickout just before the three. That has to frustrate Hornet, who has used the Hornet Splash as his go–to for nearly two decades!

SB: So someone finally showed him what a BS maneuver it is. Didn’t GUNS take three and come back to win?

IVY: Don’t make me send you to a history appreciation seminar.

BB: Hornet with another scoop, and a release German Suplex! Hornet has certainly kept up his mat wrestling skills through the years.

SB: It’s what got him this far.

BB: Scoop—THUMB TO THE EYE BY ELI FLAIR!

SB: Likewise.

BB: Hornet holding his eye in pain, but the King of Extreme is unable to take advantage! He’s on all fours in the middle of the ring, and I’d wager he’s trying to catch his breath from the impact of that Hornet Splash!

SB: And trying to figure out just how he kicked out?

BB: Its’ possible, Sammy.

IVY: How he kicked out was determination. Simple as that.

BB: Hornet shaking it off, and a kick to the head! Bodyslam! Hornet to the top rope!

SB: He’s looking to end it fast and clean, Buckley.

BB: SHOOTING STAR PRESS! NO! NO! ELI ROLLED TOWARD THE CORNER! Hornet just landed face first on the mat! Eli Flair to his feet like a shot, and he nearly fell over!

IVY: He’s rushing… when he rushes he can’t keep his balance. Especially after something like the Hornet Splash.

BB: Eli scoops Hornet up… and he’s got him hooked!

IVY: This looks familiar.

BB: Glare to the fans!

SB: Fallen One!

IVY: The cover!

BB: ONE… TWO… THREE! FOOTONTHEROPES!

IVY: Hornet may or may not have had it in him to kick out, but why bother? Expends less energy when you drape something over the ropes.

BB: That is true, Ivy, and the fact remains, Hornet took the Fallen One and is still in this match!

IVY: Just like Eli took the Hornet Splash and is still in the match.

SB: Apples and oranges.

BB: Eli grabs Hornet by the foot and pulls him to the center of the ring… Oh, don’t tell me…

SB: HAH! Just desserts!

BB: SCORPION DEATHLOCK! Hornet is wrapped up in his own finishing hold, the same one that Eli learned from—

IVY: Stop right there, Buckley. Eli knew the Scorpion before he even had a tryout with this company.

BB: What’s that?

IVY: As hard to believe as it is, Hornet did not teach everyone how to do that maneuver.

BB: Hornet’s back has to be in excruciating pain, despite the various surgeries he’s had, but he still refuses to submit!

IVY: If you thought he’d tap, you’ve not paid attention for seventeen years.

BB: Straining against the hold, Hornet can’t quite reach the ropes!

SB: Too bad Curious Rules don’t apply here.

BB: CSWA, Benson.

SB: Yes sir.

BB: Hornet pushing up with his hands, and Eli struggling to keep his—HORNET BROKE IT!

IVY: That’s why they call him Champ, with or without a belt, Sammy!

BB: Hornet just pushed up with his forearms, and twisted his legs just enough to drop the King of Extreme to the mat! And a reversal of the Scorp—ELI GRABBED THE ROPES! Kick to Hornet’s midsection! That’s certainly one way to break a hold!

SB: Disqualify him!

IVY: Yeah, that’ll happen.

BB: Eli back to his feet, and a whip to the ropes! No! Hornet with the reversal! Backdrop… he telegraphed it! KICK TO THE FACE! And one to the chest! POWERBOMB BY ELI FLAIR! The cover, ONE… TWO… TH—KICKOUT!

SB: Just drop him on his head. I bet that’d work.

BB: Scoop by Flair—SMALL PACKAGE! ONE… TWO… TH—REVERSAL! ONE… TWO…THREE! ANOTHER REVERSAL! ONE… TWO… THRE—KICKOUT!

IVY: That’s why these guys are so good. Even when they’re hurtin’ they’ve got a sense of what has to be done to finish the job.

BB: Both men climbing to their feet, and they’re staring at each other with daggers in their eyes!

SB: Not quite.

IVY: Competitive spirit, sure… but I think the respect that was there before January of 1999 is back again.

BB: They locked up… and Eli with a side suplex! He dropped a knee onto Hornet’s side, and off the ropes… LEGDROP! NO! HORNET WITH HIS KNEES UP! Eli landed on Hornet’s knees and he crashed to the mat, back – and neck – first! Hornet to his knees, and a quick cover! ONE… TWO… THREE! KICKOUT!

SB: He needs to hook the tights!

BB: Hornet with an Irish Whip… and a backdrop! NO! Eli landed on his feet, and he hooked the Greatest American Hero by the head! FALLEN ONE! ONE! TWO! THREE!

IVY: I DON’T BELIEVE IT!

BB: KICKOUT! KICKOUT! Hornet just kicked out of the Fallen One!

SB: First the Hornet Splash, now the Fallen One. I’ve seen everything, I’m going home.

BB: Eli looking around at the fans in disbelief, and he looks like he’s not sure what to do now!

IVY: For five years that’s been the end of his matches, Buckley… if someone can kick out of it, the chapter’s already over. What else can he do?

BB: Eli with a scoop, and a slam! He looks around anxiously, and backed himself up to the top rope! Elbowdrop! Cover! ONE… TWO… Shoulder up! Eli just smacked the mat in frustration!

SB: Don’t smack the mat, smack the Bug!

BB: Eli with a scoop… HEADBUTT BY HORNET! AND ANOTHER! Both men are rocked, but Hornet backed Eli up into the corner for a cross – corner whip… HORNET SPLASH!

SB: Didn’t we see that movie already?

BB: Hornet backs off… and another cross corner whip… ANOTHER HORNET SPLASH!

IVY: C’mon, Eli!

BB: He's thinking about it again!

SB: This is what killed him against GUNS so many years ago and put him out of the CSWA!

BB: Eli slumps in the corner, and Hornet with another whip! Eli hit the opposite corner hard and staggered out a few steps! A THIRD HORNET SPLASH! This one took Eli all the way down, and Hornet hooks the leg! ONE! TWO! THREE!

SB: Finally!

RJ: The winner of this bout, HORNET~!

BB: The fans on their feet cheering for the Greatest American Hero, but in reality I think they’re cheering for both men. Hornet and Eli Flair each put up a heck of a fight, but in the end it was Hornet who finally got the nod and evened these two mens’ series up at one apiece. And I think it’s fitting that their long rivalry end with a tie score.

IVY: It’s true, Buckley. Ten years ago, would you have picked this as Eli’s last CSWA match? And as Hornet’s equal, to boot? If you’ll excuse me…

BB: Poison Ivy has left us to hit the ring, and Mark Windham has already split! He’s off to the backstage, but Hornet is sitting in the corner, breathing heavily while Eli Flair is lying on the mat, his hands over his eyes, breathing heavily!

SB: So he lost. Take him away, Troy has some work to do!

BB: Not quite yet, Sammy. Fans, this is CSWA17, but as Poison Ivy told us, up next is the PRIMETIME POOLJAM tour! We’ll leave this scene, with Eli Flair lying on the mat and Hornet leaning against the bottom turnbuckle...

SB: Eli is leaving. Why isn’t Hornet leaving?

BB: He's apparently decided to take Rhubarb's seat at ringside as he watches the crowd say goodbye to Eli.

(Flair and Ivy walk up the rampway as the crowd chants ELI! ELI! and applauds. CSWAvision continues to show clips of the decade of Eli with the caption "World Champ... World Class" across the bottom. A number of workers are standing on either side below the ramp, simply applauding two of the hardest workers and true characters to pass through the doors of the Auditorium. Eli and Ivy stop on the stage -- he doesn't turn around all the way, but he turns his head, acknowledging the fans that once knew him as the Eliminator, and for all time, remember him as one of the greatest. A few more steps, and the black curtain closes behind him.)

BB: I can’t believe that’s the last we’ll see of Eli Flair as an active competitor in the CSWA. The man’s been a mainstay in the wrestling world for a decade. And he’s been one of the few truly decent real people I’ve ever had the pleasure of dealing with.

SB: That’s the past, Buckley. It’s time to move on.

BB: Like I said…one of the few truly decent real people. Hornet’s now headed back down the aisleway. He looks like he had a ball, truly enjoying watching Eli get the spotlight one last time.

SB: I think he’s just glad he’s gone.

BB: The fans are applauding, thankful of Hornet’s part in this Legends match. Up next folks, we’ve got the Main Event of the night. The culmination of one of the truly stacked tournaments, talent-wise, that we’ve ever seen in the wrestling world. From sixteen truly great wrestlers, now down to two.

(CSWAvision springs to life, as a cameraman gets a shaky picture. It’s odd… as CSWAvision is actually showing itself, at least partially, until the camera focuses in on a figure… ON TOP… of the huge video wall and scaffolding. Underneath… Hornet is stepping up onto the large stage outside the entryway.)

SB: What the h….

(An enormous BOOM goes off as pyro flames erupt on either side of the stage. The shockwave and shock, knocks Hornet off his feet momentarily… but just long enough.)

(The camera focuses in… Just as we realize the man on top of CSWAvision is masked… he dives… and all hell breaks loose.)

BB: OH MY DEAR LORD! WHAT IN THE WORLD!?

SB: He didn’t just…

(A cameraman has run up the rampway and focused in on a tangle of arms and legs. Underneath, Hornet appears to be unconscious, and may be having trouble breathing. On top, Vacant doesn’t seem much better, although it’s hard to tell through the mask.)

BB: He just jumped off of the top of the video wall with a shooting star splash and CRUSHED Hornet! We need paramedics out here NOW! Both of these men may be seriously hurt.

SB: That may be the greatest thing I’ve ever seen… especially if Bugbrain has a collapsed lung… or two.

BB: Shut up Sammy. It looks like Vacant is starting to move slightly, but still no sign of movement from Hornet.

(A replay of the events is shown on CSWAvision. It drops into slow-motion as Vacant jumps off the huge screen and does a full flip and a quarter before slamming down onto Hornet’s head, chest and stomach. Vacant’s body bounces off of Hornet’s before landing to rest, half-on and half-off, damage done.)

BB: Can we get some DAMN paramedics!?

(Vacant rolls fully off Hornet, slowing rolling to one side and trying to pull himself to his feet. He falls down to one knee, one hand grabbing his stomach.)

SB: Who is this guy?

BB: It looks like we’re about to find out. If he doesn’t collapse first.

(As the paramedics rush out, one tries to check Vacant, but the masked man pushes the medic away as he gets to his feet, still obviously stunned and recovering from the huge leap. Even so, he starts undoing the back of his mask. As the paramedics start to put Hornet on a backboard, Vacant pulls his mask off and throws it down on top of Hornet.)

SB: Wait a second – I’ve seen him somewhere.

(CUEUP: “Money, Power, Respect” by Lil’ Kim, the Lox and DMX begins to play. A little late, but apparently the production crew has figured out who it is as well.)

BB: That’s….that’s… RUBEN ROSS. What is HE doing here?

SB: Apparently bringing down the CSWA…. By first bringing down the Franchise! If Hornet had just stayed outta the way, maybe he would’ve been happy with the Unified Title.

(Ross looks down at Hornet one final time, then limps through the entryway.)

BB: “The Black Plague” has just infected the CSWA. And Hornet’s the first victim. Folks, we’re going to cut away while the paramedics do their work. Here’s a recap of the UNIFIED World Tournament. Up next…. It’s Troy Windham vs. Dan Ryan for the UNIFIED World Title.

A fourteen-foot flip off the top of a video wall, huh? Impressive.

Not quite as impressive as making Stephen Thomas look like a fool. But then again, who hasn’t?

It’s about power, pure and simple. The humiliation is just a fringe benefit.

The hacker returns from a brief trip to the bathroom and settles in to watch the Main Event just like everybody else. Troy Windham vs. Dan Ryan. Both former champs, both used and abused by the CSWA’s feuding owners just like everyone else.

But who really cares? It’s in the nature of man to abused by his betters. Windham… Ryan… does it really matter? Because in the grand scheme of things, it’s in the boardroom where futures are decided, where wheat and chaff are separated, where those with power decide who lives and who fades away.

It’s a brand new ballgame, folks. New playing field, new players, new plays.

Chapter two begins on HACKER THURSDAY.

(CUE UP: A series of dings on the timekeepers bell. CUT TO: Pee Wee Troutman holding up the CSWA Unified Title in the middle of the ring. There are no ornaments. There are no special effects. Yet as the image of the most sought-after title in the history of wrestling is broadcast on the big screen, the crowd rises to their feet. The noise made isn’t quite a deafening pop – it’s something else. It’s a roar of approval, of appreciation and of expectation.)

BB: And this crowd is on its feet already. As two men are set to do battle for the biggest prize there is.

SB: Not just two men, Buckley. Dan Ryan and Troy Windham. Two of the greatest in the sport right now. Two of the greatest of all time. It’s been years since a match with this much anticipation and excitement behind it has been held.

BB: Ryan and Windham have never really crossed paths before. But both of these two are at the top of their game. Both of these men are peaking right now. Both of these two are, perhaps, THE biggest stars in our industry right now.

(CUE UP: “Zero” by Smashing Pumpkins. CUT TO: Dan Ryan walks out, a towel around his neck, and looks around at the rabid atmosphere around him. Facially, he is unaffected and starts his walk to the ring. Nothing fancy. Nothing elaborate. Just a 6’7” 330 pound pure wrestler hopping onto the ring apron, stepping over the top rope and ready to compete in the biggest match of his career.)

BB: And here he is right now. Dan Ryan. Looking to regain what many… including myself… feel is RIGHTFULLY his. The top belt in the CSWA. The top belt in the world.

SB: This guy, Ryan… he’s the total package in the ring.

(CUE UP: “Beverly Hills” by Weezer. CUT TO: Troy Windham comes running out from the back and raises a fist in the air, spinning as he walks the aisle as a series of Roman Candles go off behind him. Troy stops halfways, hops up and down in place, and starts jaw-jacking at Ryan. Windham’s high-energy entrance shows him feeding off the energy of the fans.)

BB: And here is his opponent, Troy Windham. Mister CSWA. He, too, is a former CSWA Champion. A man who has been on fire these past few months.

SB: And one of my all-time favorites. Windham is the consummate entertainer and showman. But aside from that, there is NO ONE… not Hornet, not Mark Windham, not even Eddy Love… who brings his best in atmospheres like this. Troy Windham is THE best big-match wrestler the CSWA has ever had.

(CUT TO: The ring. Troy is in one corner, stretching the ring ropes. Ryan is stretching in the other. The crowd on its feet.)

CROWD: RYYYY ANNNN RYYYYY ANNN.

CROWD: WINNNNN DHAMMMMM WINNNNN DHAMMMMM

CROWD: RYYYY ANNNN RYYYYY ANNN.

CROWD: WINNNNN DHAMMMMM WINNNNN DHAMMMMM

(CUT TO: Thousands of flashbulps – POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!POP! – going off as Windham and Ryan make the way out of the corner. Troutman has his hand up and drops, in tune with the final ding of the ring bell.)

BB: And this match begins. Windham and Ryan now circling each other… They cinch, and Ryan immediately cinches in a headlock. Troy forces Ryan off the ropes and drops down. Ryan hops over. Troy up – and Ryan knocks Troy to the ground with a bodyblock. But Troy kips up and gets Ryan in a headlock of his own!

SB: That’s the textbook Windham agility right there!

BB: But Ryan throws Troy off of him and into the ropes – another shoulder tackle which sends The Epitome down to the mat. And that one took the wind right out of Troy. No kip up that time!

SB: And that’s Ryan’s strength showing right there.

BB: Windham on the mat now dives for Ryan’s right knee! Single leg takedown. He has the knee hooked, wrenching it. Troy flexing Ryan’s leg, really twisting it. You have to wonder if Troy’s game plan focuses on that knee.

SB: It makes sense to me. Troy’s THE smartest wrestler alive today, Bill. You don’t show the depth he has on his UPN sitcoms without higher intelligence. Get the big guy off the mat and you cut off his size and strength advantage.

BB: Troy now grapevines Ryan’s right knee, holding onto the ankle. But Ryan is rocking back and forth and he muscles Troy over… and Ryan elbows Troy right in the neck! And now he’s LEANING the point of his elbow right onto Troy’s neck! Troy grunting in pain.

SB: And, of course, Troy has that legendary bum neck, which was pretty much re-built after his matches with Eli Flair five years ago. Ryan’s an expert in combat – you have to guess that he’s going to focus on Windham’s neck.

BB: Troy reaches for the ropes and Troutman asking Ryan to break the hold. 1-2-3-4—Ryan does until RIGHT before the five count. Troy up and he cinches Ryan – no, Ryan with a waist-lock! Ryan hoists Troy – Greco-Roman style take down!

SB: Two points! Two!

BB: Ryan now leaning his 330 pounds on the small of Troy’s back and now he moves forward – side headlock! And he REALLY has it cinched in.

SB: He’s laying back, smothering Troy with his massive chest. And he keeps rapidly wrenching his hands. I’ve never seen a side headlock applied like that before.

BB: He’s really using it as a weapon and attempting to soften up Windham’s neck. Troy has Ryan around the waist – CRADLE! One! No. Ryan rolls out, holding onto the headlock still, AGAIN cinching it on tight.

RYAN: Feels good, huh Troy?

BB: Troy now moves his body around again and again rolls Ryan up! One! Two! Ryan gets out. But Troy moved his legs out from under Ryan and now has his ankle hooked. Troy crouches to his feet – KNEEBREAKER!

SB: Troy Windham showed a LOT of strength right there. Ryan outweighs him by close to 80 pounds. And Troy was able to pick the guy up and get that right knee of his!

BB: Troy held onto Ryan’s ankle after the kneebreaker and now spins – Single Leg Crab! Troy has the ankle hooked and is REALLY wrenching the knee. Really turning the ankle back and forth rapidly while leaning back.

TROY: Feels good, huh Dan?

BB: Ryan on his elbows, grimacing in pain. He’s standing on his left leg and now rolls through – CRADLE! ONE! TWO! NO! Troy holds onto the ankle though – and Ryan reverses his momentum! ONE! TWO! NO! He leaned on Troy with all his body weight and almost STOLE this match in its opening moments!

SB: Both these guys are going to do whatever it takes to get a pinfall. A victory could come out of NOWHERE in this match.

BB: Windham still with the ankle locked in a half-crab. Ryan again up to one leg. Ryan hopping on that one knee – OH NO! HE SPUN AROUND AND CONNECTED TO THE BACK OF TROY’S HEAD AND NECK WITH A SPINNING JIU-JITSU BACK FIST! TROY FELL RIGHT TO HIS KNEES!

SB: What a strike. Dan Ryan grew up in koo ma tay’s and in Japan, doing things they do over there. He knows how to hurt a man using his hands as weapons.

BB: Ryan moves towards Troy – NO! Troy with a cradle! One! Two! No! Both men up—Ryan with a backslide! One! Two! No! Troy rolls over and packages Ryan up! One! Two! No! Troy now FLIPS over Ryan – One! Two! Thr—NO! RYAN WITH A BRIDGE! And now he flips over Windham! SUNSET FLIP! One! Two – NO! Troy reverses! One – NO! Troy instead spins and grabs Ryan’s right ankle! NO! Ryan kicks Troy right into the corner!

SB: All textbook stuff right there. Like we said earlier – both these guys are the best in the sport right now.

BB: Ryan up and now has Troy in a front waistlock – RELEASE BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX! Troy lands right on his back and gets up – AGAIN RYAN HAS HIM AROUND THE WAIST – ANOTHER RELEASE BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX! Troy slow to get up from the one – Ryan lands an elbow drop right to Troy’s neck! Ryan spins around and now hoists Troy up, his massive left hand around Windham’s neck! CHOKESLAM –

SB: NOOO! SLACKKNIFE! (the crowd POPS! as Troy reverses the hold)

BB: TROY REVERSES AND HITS HIS SNAP REVERSE NECKBREAKER! COVER! ONE! TWO! THREEENOO!!!! RYAN JUST KICKED OUT! WE ALMOST HAD A NEW CSWA WORLD CHAMPION RIGHT THERE!

SB: And Troy Windham is up and shows the world how he was just THISCLOSE (Troy making the “one inch” sign with his thumb and index finger) to re-gaining the gold.

BB: And now Windham is doing The Fargo Strut, again showing the world how close he came – No! Ryan gets up and SLAPS Troy right across the face with the back of his right hand! Troy smirks—SINGLE LEG TAKEDOWN!

SB: Staying to the game plan!

BB: And Troy working the right leg again, hooking it in a standing figure four! NO! Ryan flips Troy over his back. Both Troy and Ryan up, Troy goes for the leg again – NO! Ryan hits Troy with a BIG forearm club to the back. Now Ryan has Troy prone and he hoists him... OVER HIS HEAD… HUMILITY BOMB! THAT HIGH ANGLE POWERBOMB! HE JUST FOLDED TROY LIKE AN ACCORDION! ONE! TWO! THREEEEENOOOOOOO! HE JUST ALMOST WON THE MATCH

SB: These fans can’t believe it and neither can Troy!

BB: Troy pulling himself on the ropes, his mouth agape… I don’t thing he can believe Ryan’s strength! I know I can’t. And now Ryan shows everyone how he was One Inch away from re-gaining the title.

BB: Troy pulling himself on the ropes, his mouth agape… I don’t thing he can believe Ryan’s strength! I know I can’t. And now Ryan shows everyone how he was One Inch away from re-gaining the title. And now he turns to Troy… and he's doing the Fargo Strut!

SB: That's... that's not right!

BB: Troy gets up and he just slaps Ryan right in the face! And Ryan fires back! Troy with a punch! And now Ryan with a punch! Troy! Ryan! Troy! Ryan! (With each punch, as it gets more and more out of control, the crowd gets louder and louder.) Troutman now in the middle, trying to force these two apart.

RYAN: (pointing at Troy) I'm going to (bleep)ing KILL you, Windham!

TROY: (pointing at Ryan) You'd better (BLEEP)ing watch it, pal! No one does my strut!

BB: Troutman steps out of the way... and this crowd is frenzied!

(Troy and Ryan both look around. Troy starts pounding on the mat and the crowd responds with rhythmic clapping. Other fans chant RY AN RY AN as Ryan looks around and then back at Troy.)

SB: What you've seen, Buckley, is these two guys playing chess. Niether guy has been able to really follow through on what they've wanted to do. Troy wanted to work on a knee -- anytime he's done so, he's gotten hurt. The same with Ryan -- anytime he worked on Troy's neck, it ended up with him having the lower hand. Now it's a question of who can adjust and who can react to those adjustments.

BB: Now these two lock up again. Ryan with the advantage and whips Troy to the ropes -- clothesline! Ryan picks Troy up in his arms and charges the corner... OKLAHOMA STAMPEDE! COVER! ONE! TWO! NO! Ryan picks Troy up now by one arm -- FALL AWAY SLAM! WITH A BRIDGE! ONE! TWO! NO!

SB: Ryan is absolutely devastating. I've never seen someone who just drives his opponent THROUGH a mat like him.

BB: Ryan now again lifts Troy up like a rag doll... he whips into the corner and charge -- NO! TROY JUST LEAPT OVER THE ROPES! RYAN HITS HARD INTO THE CORNER! TROY ON THE RING APRON -- HE DROPS RYAN'S THROAT ACROSS THE TOP ROPE WITH A MODIFIED STUNNER!

SB: And now look!

BB: Troy hurries to the top rope... (Troy does the old-school "Hornet Yell") SHOOTING STAR PRESS! SHOOTING STAR PRESS! COVER! ONE! TWO! THRENOOO! RYAN JUST KICKED OUT!

CROWD: HO LEEE (BLEEP)! HOO LEE (BLEEP)!

CROWD: WINN DHAM! (sucks) WINN DHAM (sucks)

SB: Where did THAT come from?

BB: We've seen Troy only use that move once or twice before. He's six foot five, six foot six. For him to be able to control his body like that takes incredibly agility. Troy now stomping on Ryan's torso. Ryan getting up -- Troy off the ropes with an old-school Running Kneelift sends Ryan sprawling back down! Troy now picks Ryan up... AND HE'S HOLDING HIM IN MID AIR...

SB: Man, how strong is THIS guy?

BB: TROY LETTING THE BLOOD FLOW TO RYAN'S HEAD... now a SLINGSHOT OFF THE ROPES... INTO A GORDBUSTER! TROY WITH THE COVER! ONE! TWO! THRENO!

SB: Man... where did THAT come from?

CROWD: WINDHAM (sucks) WINDHAM (sucks)

BB: Troy Windham has always been incredibly versatile in the ring. Troy AGAIN has Ryan prone for a suplex -- NO! Ryan back drops Troy... and Ryan just drops all his weight onto Troy's chest with a sit-down splash!

(CLOSE UP: Troy losing his oxygen as Ryan sits on him and lets out a little smirk.)

BB: Ryan now picks Troy up from behind-- Full Nelson... RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP! RYAN POPS HIS HIPS AND ROLLS OVER STILL HOLDING ONTO THE FULL NELSON... NOW HE PICKS TROY UP AGAIN... FACE FIRST FULL NELSON SLAM!! HE HELD ON AGAIN!! HE HOISTS TROY UP... FULL NELSON GERMAN SUPLEX WITH A BRIDGE! ONNEEE! TWOOO! THREEENOOO!

SB: No one else in the world could put together three moves in a row like that!

CROWD: RYYY ANN (sucks) RYYY ANNN (sucks)

BB: Ryan now whips Troy hard into the ropes and catches him -- POWERSLAM! Ryan quick to his feet, his hands on the top turnbuckle -- SPLIT LEGGED MOONSAULT! OH MY GOD! ONEEE! TWOOO! THREEENNOOO! TROY BARELY GETS HIS FOOT ON THE ROPE!

CROWD: HOOO LEEE (BLEEP)! HOOO LEEE (BLEEP)!

CROWD: RRYYY ANNN (sucks) RYYY ANNN (sucks)

SB: That guy is six foot seven and 330 pounds... and he somehow has the ability to leap to the top rope, split his legs and do a reverse flip onto his opponent. Thank GOD wrestling doesn't test for steroids.

BB: Those wouldn't help, Sammy. It's just God-given ability and years of training which allow Dan Ryan to have the sheer athleticism to do a move like that. Ryan now picks Troy up -- Snap Suplex! Ryan now has Troy up again for another Snap Suplex, no, Troy twists and turns on his feet -- SLACK KNIFE! SLACK KNIFE!

(The crowd ex-PLODES when Troy catches Ryan out of nowhere with the move.)

BB: (With the crowd.) ONE! TWO! THREEENOOOOOO!!!!!! Ryan BARELY got his right shoulder up. OH MAN. I thought we had a new champion RIGHT there.

SB: I need a drink...

BB: You always do. Both these guys are laid out on the mat, spent, sucking up air. Troutman checking both guys... and both guys are starting to move to their feet. Both men now on one knee and both men getting up again... Troy with a knee to Ryan's gut, then a forearm to the face. He has Ryan and whips him in -- no, reversal-- OHHHHHHH MYYYYY!!!! RYAN JUST HIP TOSSED TROY WINDHAM RIGHT OVER THE TOP ROPE TO THE FLOOR! TROY WINDHAM IS SPRAWLED OUT RIGHT ON THE FLOOR!

SB: And what's RYAN doing?

BB: Troy slowly getting up... RYAN SPRINGBOARDS TO THE TOP ROPE! (CLOSE UP: Troy, groggy, looking up with his mouth dropping) RYAN JUST HIT A SPRINGBOARD DROPKICK TO THE FLOOR! TROY COMPLETELY 360's OVER THE RING RAILING TO THE CROWD! RYAN HITS THE FLOOR HARD! I CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST SAW!

CROWD: HOO LEEE (BLEEP)! HOOO LEE (BLEEP)!

SB: Why would you do something like that? Why would you risk your body to that extent?

BB: Because... because that's what it's going to take in a match of this caliber. It's going to take something EXTRAORDINARY to win this match. And Ryan recognized it and struck before Troy could! Ryan now getting up, holding the small of his back. Troy is pulling himself on the ring barricade... And Ryan hops into the crowd! He meets Troy with a right! And another! And now a clothesline sends Troy sprawling back over to into the floor area!

SB: Look at Troutman, just standing there!

BB: What's he going to do, disqualify both men or count both men out in a match of this magnitude? Ryan eyes up the time keeper's table... and he clears it off. He now has Troy... SNAP SUPLEX RIGHT THROUGH THE TABLE! TROY SPLIT THE TABLE IN TWO LIKE A HOT KNIFE THROUGH BUTTER!

CROWD: RYYY ANNN! RYYY ANNN!

BB: Ryan grabs Troy by the hair and pulls him up... he whips Troy into the steel! Ryan now with a bear hug... he now rams Troy into the steel... and now into the ring post back first! Ryan now over Troy -- NO! Troy with a kick down low! Troy with a low blow! And now Troy with a drop toe hold sending Ryan crashing into the ring barricade!

SB: Going for the nuts... this sports greatest equalizer!

BB: Troy now up... eyeing up Ryan... WEST TEXAN BULLDOG RIGHT ONTO THE RING STEPS! Now Troy climbing to the apron... AND NOW THE TURNBUCKLE... TROY SPINS OFF THE SECOND ROPE AND LEG DROPS RYAN WHO WAS LAYING ON THE RING STEPS!! HE JUST DECAPITATED HIM!

CROWD: HOOO LEEE (BLEEP)! HOOO LEEE (BLEEP)!

CROWD: WINNNN DHAM! WINNNN DHAM!

BB: Both mean again down on the floor. Both men have been through SO much through this match already. Both men slowly getting up... Troy up first and now he's mounted Ryan and is slugging him with those big southpaw punches... NO! Ryan just monkey flipped Troy off of him! Troy crashes into the steel barricade... Ryan up... AND HE JUST RAN HIS KNEE RIGHT INTO WINDHAM! TROY'S SKULL REBOUNDED OFF THE STEEL BARRICADE!

SB: Troy's going to have a major headache after this match... but it's nothing a bottle of Cuervo and a 19-year-old clubber can't solve!

BB: Ryan crouched down, trying to suck up some air... He now grabs Troy's legs and spins... HOT SHOT ONTO THE BARRICADE! HE JUST DROPPED TROY THROAT FIRST ONTO THE STEEL BARRICADE! TROY DRAPED OVER THE RAILING! RYAN NOW CHARGES -- OOOHHHHH!!!

(SFX: The sound of metal crashing into a skull.)

BB: TROY WINDHAM JUST WRAPPED A STEEL CHAIR AROUND RYAN'S NECK! I'VE NEVER HEARD A CHAIR MAKE A NOISE THAT LOUD IN MY LIFE!

SB: Man...Troy looked like Sammy Sosa in '99 with that swing. Jesus...

BB: Troy now sneering at Ryan, who has that chair around his neck, out on the floor. Troy is limping but SNEERING at Ryan.. And now Troy picks up the legs of the chair... picking Ryan up with him... OH NO! OH NO! SLACKKNIFE! SLACKKNIFE! HE JUST HIT RYAN WITH THE SLACKKNIFE USING THAT CHAIR!

CROWD: HOOO LEEE (BLEEP)! HOOO LEEE (BLEEP)!

BB: TROUTMAN IS NOW COMMANDING TROY BACK TO THE RING. TROY IS JAWING AT RYAN... AND TROUTMAN IS ORDERING TROY INTO THE RING!

SB: Ryan's CAREER could be over from that.

BB: Windham used that move once before, when he was "invading" the old GWE. He severely damaged Marcus Johnson's neck using the Chair SlackKnife Combination... Troutman is checking Ryan. Troy is now in the ring... BUT RYAN IS STARTING TO MOVE! RYAN IS ON HIS KNEES! AND NOW TO HIS FEET!

CROWD: RYYYY ANNN RYYY ANNN

BB: RYAN TAKES THE CHAIR OFF HIS HEAD AND IS BATTING THE RING STEPS WITH IT!

RYAN: Huh? You think that got me, Troy? HUH?

BB: RYAN NOW BEATING THE FLOOR WITH THE CHAIR AND HE THROWS IT TO THE GROUND. AND NOW RYAN LEAPS UP TO THE RING APRON FROM THE FLOOR!

CROWD: HOOO LEEE (BLEEP)! HOOO LEEE (BLEEP)!

BB: Windham looking around with a nervous look on his face... he can't believe it. Ryan now in the ring.Windham slugs Ryan! Ryan slugs Windham! Windham! Windham! Ryan! Ryan! Ryan! Now Ryan clotheslines Troy to the mat! Ryan off the ropes! Another Clothesline!

SB: Roid rage!

BB: Ryan now leans down AND PICKS TROYUP IN A BEARHUG IN ONE MOTION... RYAN SHAKES TROY'S BACK... BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX! RYAN HOLDS ON! HE GETS UP... AND NOW A NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX! ONNNNEEEE! TWOOOOO! THREEENOOO! TROY JUST KICKED OUT!

SB: Ryan's an absolute beast... you can SEE the outline of Troy's body in the ring.

BB: Ryan now whips Troy into the corner... Troy comes out backfirst, Ryan off the ropes... LARIAT! And now Ryan has Troy prone and raises a fist in the air... HE'S GOING FOR THE HUMILITY BOMB! NO! SlACKKNIFE! SLACKKNIFE!

CROWD: ONNNNNNE!!!! TWOOOOOO! THRRRR--

BB: NOOO! RYAN SOMEHOW KICKED OUT! RYAN SOMEHOW KICKED OUT!

SB: Troy can't believe it!

BB: Troy is yelling at Troutman. But Troy now whips Ryan into the corner and follows with a running elbow smash... Troy now rams his shoulder into Ryan, holding onto the ropes... Troy now BOOSTING Ryan to the top rope! Troy's going for a Superplex... NO! Ryan headbuts Troy! Troy trying again to get to Ryan -- Another headbut! And now Ryan clubs Troy in the back with a forearm! Now Ryan has Troy prone... OHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

(Crowd ERUPTS)

BB: RYAN JUST POWERBOMBED TROY FROM THE SECOND ROPE TO THE FLOOR! RYAN JUST POWERBOMBED TROY WINDHAM TO THE FLOOR! THAT'S WHAT HE DID TO SEND HIGH FLYER OUT OF THE TOURNAMENT A FEW WEEKS BACK! HE JUST DUMPED WINDHAM ON HIS HEAD ON THE FLOOR!

SB: Man... I think Windham is flat-out DEAD right now.

CROWD: RYYY ANNN! RYYYY ANNN!

BB: Troutman is on the floor checking on Windham... Windham's starting to move, moving his injured neck back and forth, now checking his hands... WINDHAM KIPS UP! WINDHAM KIPS UP!

(The crowd jumps up with Windham... they can't believe it!)

BB: WINDHAM IS SHAKING AND SCREAMING...

TROY: (Pounding on the ring apron) LET'S GO YOU SON OF A BITCH!

BB: Ryan is hopping up and down, telling Troy to bring it! Troy rolls into the ring! He swings at Ryan! Ryan swings at Troy! Troy! Ryan! Troy! Ryan! Ryan! Ry-- NO! BACKSLIDE!

CROWD: ONNNNEEEE! TWOOOOO! THREEEE--

BB: NOOO! Ryan rolls out! Troy now swings at Ryan -- RYAN DUCKS! DOUBLE LEG TAKE DOWN! RYAN ROLLS OVER AND HOOKS THE LEGS!

CROWD: ONNNNEEE! TWOOOO! THREEEE--

BB: NOOOO! TROY ROLLED OUT! TROY ROLLED OUT!

SB: I need my heart meds...

BB: Ryan now has Troy and whips him into the ropes -- BACK BODY DROP! Ryan right on top of Troy and whips him again... NO! Troy reverses and puts Ryan up in a Fireman's Carry and back down... SLACK KNIFE! SLACK KNIFE! SLACK KNIFE! THIS IS IT!

CROWD: ONNNNNNEEE!!!! TWOOOO!!!! THREEEE--

BB: NOOOOO! RYANNNN KICCCKKKS OUTTTT!

SB: Troy got three fingers up! He just thought he won!

BB: Troy is SCREAMING at Troutman -- RYAN ROLLS TROY UP!

CROWD: ONNNNNNE!!!! TWOOOOOOO! THREEE--

BB: NOOOOO! TROY KICKS OUT! Ryan doesn't waste any time and he clotheslines Troy to the mat... he now has Troy's legs... HE PICKS TROY UP ON HIS SHOULDERS! ELECTRIC CHAIR DROP! HE JUST DROPPED TROY ON HIS FACE! COVERRRR!

CROWD: ONNNNNE!!!! TWOOOOO!!!! THREEE--

BB: NOOOOOOOO! WINDHAM JUST GOT HIS SHOULDER UP! Ryan GLARES at Troutman...but now he hoists Troy for the Humility Bomb... Ryan lifts Troy -- HE HITS IT! HE HITS IT! HE JUST DROPPED WINDHAM RIGHT ON HIS NECK!

SB: BUT TROY KICKED TROUTMAN ON THE WAY UP! TROY KICKED TROUTMAN!

BB: Ryan has Troy OUT! Ryan is now SCREAMING at Troutman... Troutman is flinching but sees the pin! WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A NEW WORLD CHAMPION!

CROWD: ONNNNNNNEEEE! TWWWWOOOOOO! THREEEEEEE---

BB: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! TROY GOT HIS FOOT ON THE ROPPPE! RYAN CAN'T BELIEVE IT! IF TROUTMAN WASN'T KICKED BY TROY RYAN WOULD HAVE THE TITLE! RYAN IS SCREAMING AT TROUTMAN!

SB: WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU! THESE FANS ARE TOO LOUD!

BB: Ryan is SCREAMING at Troutman. Ryan now whips Troy into the corner... HORNET SPLASH!!!! Ryan now onto the second rope... HE'S GOING FOR THE HUMILITY BOMB FROM THE TOP ROPE! HE HOISTS TROY.... NOOOO

SB: SLLLLACCCKKKKNIIFFEEEE!!!!

BB: TROY HITS A SLACKKNIFE OFF THE TOP ONTO RYYYANNNNN!!!! RYAN POPS UP AND FALLS BACK ONTO THE MAT! TROY CRAWLLLS TO RYANNN!!!! HE DRAPES HIS ARM ACROSSSS!!!!!!!!!

CROWD: ONNNNNNNEEE!!!! TWWOOOOOOO!!!! THRREEEE!!!!

BB: WE HAVE A NEW CHAMP! WE HAVE A NEW CHAMP!

RJ: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH AND NEWWWWWWW UNIFIED WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION -- "THE EPITOME" TROY WINDHAM!!!!!

(MUSIC CUE UP: "Beverly Hills" by Weezer.)

BB: UNBELIEVABLE! UNBELIEVABLE! TROY WINDHAM HAS SOMEHOW... SOMEHOW DEFEATED DAN RYAN! IN THE DAMNDEST MATCH I HAVE EVER WITNEESED... AFTER NEARLY 45 MINUTES OF NON-STOP ACTION... TROY WINDHAM SOMEHOW... IS ONCE AGAIN THE WORLD CHAMPION!!!

CROWD: WINNNNNDDD DHAMMMMM WINNNNNNDDDD DHAMMMMM WIIIIINNNNDDD DHAMMMMM!!!

SB: This may be the loudest I’ve heard the Auditorium Buckley. Yes, this even rivals when Stan Parsons crapped himself mid-interview with Flash. But hey if not for Parsons’ IBS, you don’t get the PRIMETIME gig.

BB: Troy is starting to get up on his feet with his hand raised in the air... and now he's on one knee in the corner... Windham has tears in his eyes! Just like the last time he won the title!

SB: You know Buckley, I’m not a proponent of Man Tears. Eddy Love never cried. Not even when he walked into his parents room as a teen and saw his momma with a set of mouse traps on her…

BB: Sammy!

SB: He never cried! But, despite that, I can’t fault Troy. The guy's been through so much in his career, Buckley. Whether you hate him or love him, you have to respect him. All the controversy, all the injuries, all the rehab stints... for everything he's been through, Troy Windham has ALWAYS been a guy who has ALWAYS backed up his big talk with an even bigger game.

BB: Pee Wee Troutman is outside the ring... and he has the title. And now he's back inside...What a moment here. Troy Windham is visibly stunned, overcome with emotion. Sammy, I don’t think he expected to win this tonight. I don’t think he saw himself beating Dan Ryan.

SB: Well, okay let’s be real honest here. When you start drugging opponents mid-match just to advance in an early round, that’s walking a fine line between brilliance and desperation. But hell, it was great theater. I’ve wanted to drug Ivy for as long as I can remember, so who am I to throw stones.

(Troutman holds the title and Troy SNATCHES it from him, holds it above his head, and then collapses with it to the mat. In the background, you see Dan Ryan respectfully rolling out of the ring.)

BB: You can just tell by looking at this what this has meant to Troy Windham. What winning this title means to him...

SB: Buckley, I'm not an emotional guy, but I guess I had a few too many tonight. Even I'M starting to tear up from looking at this.

BB: (pause as he looks at Sammy) No you’re not…

SB: Oh nice Buckley. Destroy the reality I’m trying to create here.

(Troy now climbs the corner and holds the title over his head. All 23,000 plus are on their feet in a standing ovation. Troy starts pounding his chest with his fist and is now applauding the fans as well.)

BB: The fans in Greensboro are letting Windham hear it. What a reaction.

CROWD: RY---ANN! RY---ANN! RY-ANN!

(The auditorium at large finds Ryan at the stage ramp and salutes him. Ryan tips an imaginary cap, obviously touched. He’ll be back. They know it.)

SB: I’ve made derogatory comments about Dan Ryan in the past. Well, you know, like five minutes ago even, but that man may be the best our sport has to offer right now. Let me put aside the Sammy Benson cap for a minute, and just say, I respect that man.

(CLOSE-UP: Sammy Benson standing at his post, applauding Dan Ryan.)

BB: Sammy. Seventeen years later you still manage to surprise me.

(Benson tucks two fingers under his lips and WHISTLES.)

CROWD: TWO OUT OF THREE!! TWO OUT OF THREE! TWO OUT OF THREE!

(Troy laughs, and vehemently gestures NO. He hops down from the corner and asks for the microphone.)

(CENSOR) NO. That son of a bitch all but killed me. (crowd laughs.) You want another fall, get in the ring and wrestle Dan Ryan yourself.

(Crowd laughs. Ryan smiles.)

Ry-ANN. Ry-ANN. Ry-ANN. (crowd picks up on Troy and chants with him.) Dan Ry-ANN… (Troy wearily props his elbows over the top rope, and faces Ryan who still stands on the top of the stage.) They said you were the best wrestler on the planet. Dan Ry-ANN…I don’t disagree, brother. You’re the best I’ve ever been in the ring against. PERIOD! I’ve been in this ring before with a man who wrestled his last match for this company tonight, Eli Flair.

CROWD: ELI! ELI! ELI! ELI! ELI!

(Troy chuckles) Yes Eli…a man who broke my neck, and damn near ended my career, Ryan. And tonight I stand here, knowing somehow, I just beat a better man. Dan Ryan, you’re (CENSOR) nuts. I wouldn’t say “I Quit.” But I’ll say this. You’re the best wrestler I’ve ever been in the ring with.

(Troy starts applauding Dan Ryan.)

And I’d die if it was tonight, but these fans want it. I know you want it. And I do as well. Troy Windham and Dan Ryan, the SECOND COMING! (HUGE pop.) I don’t agree with the way CS took the belt off your ass. Man to man, it wasn’t right, Ryan. I know you wanted to walk out of here with the belt, and shove it down Steve’s throat before turning out the nights and hopping a plane out of this hell hole (Cheap HEAT), and I’m sorry you couldn’t get the job done. (Troy smiles.) But this title, as you know, means you’re the best in the business. I’ve broken more bones than some (CENSOR) have had matches in this building. I’ll be a fighting champion, Ryan. You call me when you’re ready, and I’ll sign on the dotted line. Once, twice, three strikes and then you’re out, but make no mistake, I won’t run from you, although common sense says I probably should.

(Ryan stares at Troy, points at him, then makes the "belt around the waist" gesture and then points with his thumbs at himself and then goes back behind the curtain.)

CROWD: RY-ANN! RY-ANN!

(With Ryan gone, Troy backs up, and stands in the middle of the ring. Again looking at every face in the Auditorium in disbelief. The fans SHOWER him with love. They don’t want the moment to end. Neither does Troy.)

TROY: (breathing, holding his head, rapidly blinking his eyes.) I... I... (CROWD: WIINNN DHAM! WIINNNN DHAM!) I can't tell you HOW MUCH winning this means to me. I've sacrificed so much of my life to get back to this moment, to win this title. Because THIS (Troy holds up the title) is THE most important title in our sport. And being THE BEST is what's most important to me. Oh (CENSOR) what have I done…

(Troy drops the belt in the middle of the ring and stands over it, his hands locked behind his head. Windham shakes his head back and forth, like it’s all a dream, tears streaming down his face.)

BB: Sammy, you still with me?

SB: (wheeze) I’m not crying, Buckley. Shut it.

BB: What a great moment in CSWA history.

TROY: I know this ain’t like me, man. But, (Troy’s bottom lip quivers) four years ago I was laid up in a hospital bed and I thought…man, I thought I wouldn’t walk again. That my career was over. I went through a surgery that doctors said could kill me. I was told to walk away. To count my blessings and push paper somewhere 9 to 5. But all my life I’ve just wanted one thing. RESPECT! (HUGE pop.) I didn’t want pity. I had to come back and get that RESPECT! If it meant not being able to walk by the time I was forty-five, I had to hear Troy Windham’s name be talked about in the same vein as Eli Flair! (CHEERS) Hornet! (Cheers) Dan Ryan! (Big POP) Shane Southern! (CHEERS) EDDY LOVE! (CHEERS) JOEY MELTON! (CHEERS) And yes…my brother MARK. (HUGE POP.)

(Troy paces around the wing, before picking up the UNIFIED title and throwing it over his left shoulder.)

TROY: (into the main camera) Do I have your respect now?

(Crowd CHEERS.)

I could stand up here and thank everyone that’s ever had a hand in my career, the boys in the back who have pushed me from day one. But I’ll save you from all that. But, if this is a new start for Troy Windham, if this MY CAREER DAY TWO, then I’m going to bury the past, and thank the only man that deserves it tonight.

Mark… (POP) it’s fate you’re here tonight. I know you didn’t come to see me, but Mark, my brother, MY BLOOD, please…come out here with me. (Troy’s lip quivers again) I wanna see my brother tonight.

SB: Buckley are we even on the air at this point?

BB: We better be. Troy Windham calling out his brother Mark. I know he’s proud. He always has been of Troy’s career, whether he’s said it or not.

(Mark, in blue jeans and a white “Paul Is Dead” T-shirt apprehensively walks out on the stage, and carefully down the aisle.)

(MEGA POP)

BB: And here comes Mark!

SB: Niagara Falls, Buckley. Niagara Falls. Even Eddy’s crying at this point!

(Mark acknowledges the crowd, then climbs into the ring, standing in the center of the ring, three-feet from a teary eyed Troy.)

TROY: (reaches out and touches Mark’s right shoulder) Mark, I know I put you through hell as a kid. I know you just wanted to do what was right by me. And I’m sorry, truly…sorry that our lives ran apart from each other. But I hope you can understand, whatever I did, was to get to this point. To become a man, and stand on my own two feet. Maybe I’m not proud of some of the things I’ve said over the years, some of the things I’ve done, but Mark…you’re my brother, and I love you.

(The crowd cheers as Mark just stares at Troy, unwavering.)

TROY: All my life, I’ve wanted to BE you. To beat all your state records, to be the best Windham ever to step foot in a wrestling ring. You were…no, you are my idol, Mark. And if it’s true. If the grapevine got the story right, and tonight is it for you. If this is the passing of the torch, just know…you’re a GOD to me. Any anything you need from here till the day we’re dead and buried in Sweetwater, my brother, my blood…it’s yours.

(Troy tears up again, and gives Mark a bear hug.)

(The fans CLAP. The raw emotion from Troy is surprising to say the least, but that’s what ANNIVERSARY is. Moments you never could’ve planned on seeing. It’s Troy Windham UNPLUGGED, and they love it.)

TROY: (to Mark) I got THE belt back, Bro! It’s OURS again, Mark! OURS!

(Troy grabs Mark by the neck and shakes him. He takes the UNIFIED WORLD title off his shoulders, and straps it around Mark’s waist.)

(BIG POP)

(Troy hugs Mark again then steps back and admires the sight of his brother WEARING the UNIFIED title.)

CROWD: TROY! TROY! TROY!

(Mark looks at the UNIFIED title around his waist.)

CROWD: TROY! TROY!

(Then Troy.)

CROWD: WIN-DUM! WIN-DUM! WIN-DUM!

(Troy salutes the fans.)

BB: Fans, we’re almost out of time. What a night. What else can you say about CSWA17, Sammy?

(Mark KICKS Troy in the gut.)

SB: (CENSOR)

BB: WHAT THE HELL? WINDHAM JUST ATTACKED TROY!! SLACK KNIFE! MARK JUST DROPPED TROY WITH A SLACKKNIFE!

SB: This is why Hallmark are geniuses. They know when to stop, and still call it a “moment.”

BB: MARK VIOLENTLY STOMPING AWAY AT TROY! What the hell is he doing? This…this is wrong! Just wrong!

(Mark lifts Troy up, and hooks him in the TORTURE RACK.)

CROWD: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

(As debris is thrown in the ring, Mark clamps down on Troy’s lifeless body.)

BB: NO! Come on! After all the punishment Troy’s already taken tonight, this is uncalled for!!

(Mark drops Windham’s body, then sets him up.)

SB: Wes Craven should make a movie about this family. He really should.

BB: Mark…HUMILITY BOMB!!

(Windham shoots back up to his feet, looks at the rampway and shoots the bird.)

BB: We need help. Sammn…where’s security? Where the hell is Gregg Gethard?

(Mark rolls outside.)

SB: Probably in the back, crapping his pants. I’ll take the blame for that one, he tends to follow my lead.

(Windham pushes a chair, and table in the ring.)

(The crowd is HOT. Trash everywhere.)

BB: Seriously, we need help. This is uncalled for. Oh my… Windham with THAT CHAIR OVER TROY’S NECK!!!

(Mark sets up the table, and lays Troy over it.)

BB: Sammy get in there and do something!

SB: What do you want ME to do? A man’s getting his ass kicked by a lunatic? What, you want me to recite poetry to his crazy ass?

BB: MARK NO! PLEASE! PILEDRIVER THROUGH THE TABLE!! GOOD GRIEF! Troy’s career could be over. THAT NECK! DEAR GAWD THAT NECK THAT ELI ALMOST BROKE! Troy’s not moving!

(Mark grabs Troy’s lifeless legs and draws him away from the wreckage.)

BB: This is madness. Mark—no!!

(Windham sits on Troy’s back, and hooks in the camel clutch! Blood pouring out of Troy’s nose, his eyes closed. He’s out cold, but Mark pulls back on the camel clutch as hard as he can.)

BB: We may be seeing the end of Troy Windham’s career…

SB: So much for the second wind…

BB: Windham FINALLY letting go of the camel clutch. Look at him! Standing over his BROTHER’S fallen body.

(Mark kicks at Troy, but he’s not moving.)

MARK: (on the house mic; fans booing louder than ever.) OH SHUT THE (CENSOR) UP. None of you give a damn about this man. NONE OF YOU CARE FOR HIM, LIKE I DO!

CROWD: AASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS-HOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLE.

SB: That’s the problem, Buckley…this is how they show love in the Windham family. Nothing that Dr. Phil couldn’t straighten out, really.

MARK: WHERE WERE YOU WHEN HE WAS (CENSOR) KICKED OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL? WHERE WERE YOU WHEN HE (CENSOR) OVERDOSED ON MY LIVING ROOM FLOOR? WHERE---------WERE-------YOU?

SB: Probably working a dead end job. You know, like today! These people’s lives change about as often as the expression on a stone statue.

MARK: Where were you when Troy infested my life like a plague. Where were you, when he took everything I ever had, and tossed it away? WHERE WERE YOU? Don’t cry for this piece of (CENSOR) at my feet. DON’T YOU CRY FOR HIM. He’s not a good man! He’s not the World Champion!! And he’s not THE LAST WINDHAM STANDING!

BB: End the PPV right now.

SB: OH now you’re on my side. I wanted to do that THREE HOURS AGO.

MARK: He’s just a (looks down at Troy) a F*** UP! Where were you, TROY, when Timmy and that piece of (CENSOR) Mickey Benedict ended my career? When they ran a stake through my shoulder, and nearly bled me dry in this very ring? WHERE----WERE----YOU?!

No visits in the hospital.

No cards.

No letters.

YOU DIDN’T DO SHIT, FOR ME TROY! And you stand here and talk about love, and respect. You MAKE ME SICK!

SB: Nice work on the censors there boys.

MARK: No word for a year…and you come back, on your high horse, and you bring that freak ZOLTAN in the game. THROW HIM IN MY FACE! ZOLTAN! The mysterious Zoltan… (Mark sarcastically shakes). You knew I’d pick up on it. YOU KNEW I’d figure it out. ZOLTAN BENEDICT!!! (Mark stomps away some more.)

HOW DARE YOU BRING MICKEY’S SON AT YOUR SIDE!

(Windham laughs manically)

No…my brother…MY BLOOD! you’ve taken your side of the battle. You’ve hitched your wagons to an old man, and a piece of (CENSOR) that’s married and corrupted our sister! That’s love? That’s respect?

No, WHERE—WERE---YOU TROY…when I visited your broken ass at Moses Cone after Eli physically broke you IN THIS VERY BUILDING in 2001? YOU…WERE…FINNNNNNNNNNNISHED!! THAT’S WHERE YOU WERE! Dead and buried, but I gave a damn! I chased Eli Flair down, for your honor, for RESPECT, and because of it…I was destroyed IN THIS VERY BUILDING last year!

CROWD: Asssssssssssssssss-holeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

MARK: But this time…THIS TIME TROY, you’re going to have to pick yourself back up. Maybe Mickey and Zoltan, maybe all these dicks who suddenly love you because you’re cool again will pick up the pieces.

But don’t ever call me out again.

Don’t ever look me in the eye again.

I AM THE LAST WINDHAM STANDING.

No longer can you call yourself my brother, or tread on my name. From this day forward, you are TROY THE PIECE OF (CENSOR).

(Windham throws down the mic, grabs the chair, and picks up Troy’s lifeless body. Mark opens the chair and sets Troy’s head inside it, then SLACKKNIFE’S TROY!)

BB: SLACKKNIFE THROUGH THE CHAIR. Sick. The man is just sick.

SB: Again you listen to me too late.

(Mark rolls out of the ring, as trash is thrown at him. He walks up the aisle, the UNIFIED WORLD belt still strapped to his waist.)

BB: Fans. CSWA17 is over. I...I don’t know what else to say.

(CLOSE-UP: Troy’s bloodied, limp body.)

SB: Happy Anniversary?

(FTB)