Wire Index

Wire Index...

#1: The Revenger

#2: Red Leaf

#3: The Crushin' Russian

#4: Big O

#5: Alan Soriano

#6: Chris Widmayer

#7: Lost Metal

#8: Brian J. Blottie

#9: Mr. Faith

#10: The Flying Scotsman

#11: The Flying Scotsman (later that day)

#12: Blood Boy

#13: The Mystery Man

#14: Dudley Do Wrong

THE REVENGER

<Scene opens with just Revenger, no Blood Boy, no Red Leaf. He is driving

along the southern Praries of Canada, on his way to Vancouver for Sunday

Night Slam Masters.>

The Revenger: You may ask why I'm alone.

The Revenger: Well, the NACW has requested for myself, Red Leaf and Blood

Boy to all travel seperately just incase of a scuffle between us, you

know, about that Rookie Rumble. I personally doubt that will happen, but

Commissioner Coats may think differently. I have no idea. We were just

instructed to not travel together because we may, we could have our

differences of opinion of who's going to win. And of course, like anyone

else in the Rookie Rumble, we're going to choose ourselves. But quite

honestly, I think anyone else can take it, like my pals in the Rebels,

Blood Boy and Red Leaf. There's also alot of people in there....

The Revenger: Man, but there's one that really stands out. Bob Boring.

Boring, you think ..... Oh, I'm sorry. Bob Booreng, you're a funny guy..

I'll admit that for ya. The thing is is that on Thursday, you made a bit

of a comment about me. A bad man? Me? Naaah! Come on! Boring-- Booreng...

I must be delt with? Why? Why must it be me, Booreng? Guy... you're in

that Rumble on Sunday... So am I and I'd be damned if I don't get to give

you a bit of an ass kicking, which is just something that is destined to

happen. And if you get the first shot in, so be it. Why? Because Revenge,

haha, is so bitterly.... sweet.

RED LEAF

<Scene opens with Red Leaf in the locker room after his win over Maniac

on Sunday Night Slam Masters.>

Red Leaf: Red Leaf here. Red Leaf ready for a week from now. Red Leaf

just receive schedule from the front office and Red Leaf in a rookie

battle royal! [The] Rookie Rumble [its] called. Had it last week. Red

Leaf wasn't in it. Red Leaf fought Maniac, and Red Leaf kicked.... his...

ass! Red Leaf got that out [of the] way. Red Leaf been instructed not to

make too much contact with Rebels throughout week. Red Leaf can do that.

Red Leaf been loner before. Red Leaf believe it cause they don't want us

fighting. Red Leaf dunno. Red Leaf don't care.

Red Leaf: Red Leaf got to get something straight, Dan Mazin. Red Leaf

just saw tape of match and Red Leaf called a yak? Red Leaf a yak? Red

Leaf and all Canadians.... Yaks!

Red Leaf: Red Leaf can't wait for Sunday. Aside from the Rebels, Red

Leaf'd be fightin' with the Crushin' Russian. Red Leaf can't wait. Red

Leaf see this big guy earlier, and he liked him. The match was like his

match. Red Leaf dominated Maniac, Russian dominated Mark McCalous. Red

Leaf see another who is in the Rookie Rumble. Red Leaf liked what he saw

of Mark, but that wasn't much. Red Leaf therefore cannot judge him. Red

Leaf yet to see Johnny Coast with the exception of his run-in. Dudley Do

Wrong is just like that. Not much of that. Red Leaf see Mr. Faith and

Obediah ran a good match, which Red Leaf liked. Bob Booreng insulted

Revenger, Red Leaf friend recently. Red Leaf will get him if Revenger

don't first. Red Leaf never heard of Rasta Farian, Jaguar or Chris

Widmayer before. Red Leaf hope they do good, Red Leaf hope they all do

good. But Red Leaf realize but one man will survive, and Red Leaf.... Red

Leaf know who it'd be.... It'd be Red Leaf.

THE CRUSHIN' RUSSIAN

[The camera enters a club in downtown LA where there is some serious

partying going on. Music blares loudly, people grind on one another, and

everyone is liquored up. Inside, the cameraman finds the man he is

looking for, Igor Kilemov, The Crushin Russian. He approaches the

Crushin Russian who is characteristically surrounded by 4 large guys in

long black trenchcoats.]

Cameraman: Crushin' Russian, Crushin Russian! Would you like to say a

few words about your big win tonight?

[silence]

Cameraman: [very timidly, knowing how much Crushin Russian hates media]

Exuse me, excuse me.

[taps him on the shoulder]

[Crushin Russian looks]

Crushin Russian:[obvioulsy intoxicated] Hey Comrade! Wassup Brother!

cameraman: [very confused] Can I ask you a few questions?

Crushin Russian: Sure, anything for a good comrade like you.

cameraman: [to the reporter] make sure we always interview him when

he's drunk!

reporter:definately

[the cameraman, the Crushin Russian, two of the bodyguards, and 4 blond

babes tricke outside where they can actually hear each other]

Crushin Russian: what do you want to know?

reporter: What did you think about your match with McCalous tonight?

Crushin Russian: [looks confused at first] Oh Yeah, that! I almost

forgot. yeah, I destroyed that punk ass, just like I told you all I was

going to. He was just a two-bit jobber. I wrestled better competition

than that in junior high.

reporter: Yes, you did wrestle quite well. What's next for you.

Crushin Russian: Well, first, as you can see, I'm going to get so drunk

I forget my own name. McCalous experienced the Drop of Vodka, but I'm

experiencing a fifth of vodka. [his bodyguards catch him as he begins to

tip over]

reporter: What do you think about the Rookie Rumble II at SNSM on March

28th?

Crushin Russian: Well, I'm sure of one thing, I'm going to win. I

looked at who's in it, not that I can really remember though, and I think

this is a weaker rookie class than the last one. Except a few people

like me. There are a lot of worthless jobbers like McCalous, Jaguar,

Chris Widmayer, The Revenger, Maniac, and Blood Boy.

Reporter: What do you think about the rest of the competition?

Crushin Russian: Just in case anyone missed it, I'd like to pick myself

to win. I think I'm far and above the best of this rookie class. Other

than me, I think Johnny Coast and Red Leaf have the best shot. I like

Bob Booreng, but he is a little too inexperienced for this level of

competition. Obediah will probably get in a holy war again with Mr.

Faith and Dudley Dipshit. Those two can barely fight their way out of a

wet paper sack. Rasta Farian looks ok, but we'll have to see if he can

prove it in the ring.

Reporter: Well, that's quite a prediction. Anything else to say before

you pass out?

Crushin Russian: I'd just like to tell Dave Bean's wife Melinda "HI".

Now, get me some more Vodka. Uhhhh. [puke's all over the ground, then

washes it down with more vodka]

Reporter: Well, thanks for your time, I guess I'll get out of here

before this get's real ugly.

[more puking]

Crushin Russian: Hey camera, did I mention I'm gonna win the Rookie

Rumble? Uggggg [puke]

[fade to black]

BIG O

<The scene opens in Big O's dressing room at Dodger Stadium. Big O is

sitting on a bench waiting for an interviewer, while Runs-with-the-Pack

is pacing the floor. Finally, the door opens and a no-name NACW reporter

enters the room.>

reporter: Hello Big O. Sorry that it took me so long, but I had to

interview the winners of tonight's matches before I got to the losers.

How do you feel about your loss tonight?

Big O: <slightly disorientated> First off, I thought that I had a pretty

good presence in the ring tonight. I'm happy with my outing, even though

the results were not what I would have liked. I am only sorry that Ban X

will have to live with the knowledge that he won a match with the help of

outside interference, eh. I would like to thank Lost Metal for his

apperance at ringside to help me during the fight.

reporter: Of course, Ban X won fair and square. The official result was

a victory for Ban X via pinfall. Officially there was no interference.

Big O: I know, but everyone who saw the match knows what really

happened, eh. I must say that I am not surprised by Dottie's attack on

Runs-with-the-Pack and his interference. He is, after all, a living

legend. He can do anything he wants at anytime. I am, however, very

disappointed by the actions taken by our commsioner, Shane Pants. It is

no wonder that the NACW front office has done nothing about the poor

behavoir of some of its wrestlers. Pants is just another two bit thug

who only jumps people when they aren't looking, eh. It saddens me that a

wrestling federation with as much talent as the NACW gets a poor image

because it is ruled by a bunch of thugs who attack the average,

hardworking Joe. I thought that Pants was a good enough leader that he

would handle these problems and work for the good of the company. But, I

should have known that he is wouldn't. After all, he usually has others

fight his battles, and when he does decide to face an opponent he sneaks

up on them from behind while that man is fighting another match, eh.

reporter: I don't think that those comments are fair, Big O.

Commisioner Coats had just announced that you would face him in the

hardcore tournament. Some might say he was just sending you a message.

You had also just knocked out a NACW official. Some might say that Mr.

Coats was just retaliating for an attack on one of his employees.

Big O: Everyone knows that I would never attack any non-wrestler. My

assault on the referee was an accident, eh. As for a message, I got the

message. "Semi-Star" Shane Pants is a pussy, who fights from behind. He

is no better then Dottie, and the rest of the scum of the NACW.

reporter: Those are strong words, considering that you will soon be

facing the most powerful man in the NACW.

Big O: Pants doesn't scare me one bit, eh. I have been looking forward

to getting into the ring with him for a couple of days now, and believe

me, I'll be more then ready. Pants, I could care less whether I win the

tourny or not, all I want to do is take you out of wrestling, FOR GOOD!

reporter: Well, I hope that Commisioner Coats shows some mercy on you.

Any other comments on tonights matches?

Big O: Yes, I would like to congradulate my fellow Canadian, Red Leaf,

along with the Crushin' Russian, and Lost Metal on their incredible

victories tonight. I thought that tonights action was great, eh. I was

also very impressed by the wrestling of Dave Bean and Soriano. Oh

Lottie-Dottie, by the way I decided to prove that I am more of a man then

you by staying out of your match. As a matter of fact, I'm tired of

trying to get you into the ring. I really don't give two shits what you

think, say, or do from now on, because your to big of a pussy to step

into the ring and face me in a fair fight. Fuck you, and stay out of my

way, eh. I'll soon be on the rise in this fed and I don't wanna dirty

myself with a piece of shit like you.

reporter: Thank you Big O. Have a safe trip back to British Columbia,

we'll see you in Vancouver.

ALAN SORIANO

(The scene fades in and shows a conference room packed to the brim with

reporters from almost every single wrestling news publication there is in

existance. The abundance of cameras, men, and women is overwhelming. At

the head of this pandemonium is a pair of tables flanking a

podium...Then, some people enter stage left: Johnny "Sun" Coast, in blue

jeans and a sweater, Ban X, in black jeans,t-shirt and cowboy hat,

Chameleon wearing black vinyl pants and a t-shirt with Tiger Dream on it,

Ross Howard in a suit and tie..All to cheers and camera flashes..But

then, the man of the hour enters. Alexa walks out first,holding Alans

hand as he comes out, his hair soaked and some moisture on his shirt...He

holds on his shoulder the thing he has wanted since day one in this

federation: The NACW World Title. A standing ovation occurs, and Alan

hugs Alexa, then Ross Howard, Chameleon, Ban X, and Johnny Coast. Its

indeed a special moment. Alan approaches the podium and all the others

sit at the tables, each having mics of their own as well. Alan takes a

pitcher of water and pours a bit into a paper cup, drinks some, and

splashes the rest on his face...)

Alan: Well, I guess Im not dreaming!

(Reporters chuckle)

Alan: Thank you all for attending this press conference..Um...There are

not words that can describe how I feel right now...Uh...I am exstatic,

happy, overjoyed, thankful...I rememebr when I first entered the

wrestling business. I never thought that I would be a champion..But I

always worked..Harder and harder every day, to try and reach this goal.

And now, sometime later, here I am. I would like to thank some people

right now..

(As this goes on, flashbulbs pop in every direction..Alexa, sitting at

the table on the right, holds his hand...Coast looks in awe, for Alan

helped him to be what he is today...Ban X nods and smiles...Chameleon the

same, both very happy for their friend...Ross Howard has a very

thoughtful look...)

Alan: First off...I would like to thank many of my fellow wrestlers.

Michael Cabster, wherever you are, I thank you man. You helped me realize

what real competition was. And, despite the angles and the crap, you are

still my friend. Ian Bradley, for helping me overcome so many obstacles.

Johnny Blaze, for being my partner in many battles. And, the guys at this

table. Johnny Coast, man I look at you and I see a younger version of me.

The underdog. One day man, I hope you will see these heights. Ban X.

Although I have only known you a short time, you have proven to me to be

a great wrestler, and an even better ally. Chameleon, you have added

humor and amazement to my life. I am proud to be aligned with you. Ross

Howard, you came and supported me on my title quest and, though you are

not a wrestler, you have affected me quite the same way with your dignity

and grace in the announce booth. And, the final two people I would like

to thank are not here right now: Justin Russell and Shawn Coats.

Justin..I guess we are even for what happened the LAST time the NACW

visited Dodger Stadium. Justin, you are not only a great wrestler, but a

great guy. You are truly a legend. When you handed the belt over, I felt

some of your greatness transfer to me. I hope that I can defend this belt

with the same success and power that you have. And I promise you,

Russell, when you heal up..I will return this favor. And Shawn Coats.

Lord only knows the troubles you and I have had. But, through it all, you

have been a just and fair owner. You have made this federation a great

monument, what it is today. I am honored to serve as the champion of this

organization you worked so hard to keep going....

On a personal level..I would like to thank my mom...The one who told me I

could do anything I ever wanted to...My Dad...I hope you can see this

Dad, I know you can see this up in heaven. I want you to know that this

belt is the result of all of your hard work with kids like Johnny Coast,

Johnny Blaze, and myself. You did good, Dad. You did good...

(As Alan utters those last words, his voice quivers...He clears his

throat and sniffs, and moves on..)

But I have to thank the one who has been with me the whole time. My

reason for striving to new heights, my lovely wife....

(Looks at Alexa)

You have been the most wonderful thing in my life...And, I want you to

know that without you around, I wouldent have the motivation to succeed.

(She gets up and hugs him, and then sits back down...Another standing

ovation by the reporters..After all calms down, Alan wipes the tears

away, and chokes out this statement...)

But most of all, I would like to thank all of the fans who have supported

me. Every single one should get a belt of their own for being such great

fans....So good to me..Um...Thank you all....

(ALan clears his throat again...)

Okay now..I will be answering questions...Yes sir, you in the back..

Rep: Hello, John Huston, Los Angeles Daily...Do you feel your victory was

tainted?

Alan: No, not at all..A real champion would not let his problems with the

referee distract him in a title match...Therefore, in my opinion, the

match was won fairly and squarely by me....Next..Yes, you..

Rep: Hello, Barbara Holcoumb, L.A Express....Um....What are your thoughts

about your upcoming title defense against Shaun McWHirter?

Alan: Well, its a shot I granted to him before I had the title. A while

back, I had a friend of mine impersonate him and use his character for

profit, and I thought a title shot would even up things. Im sure he will

be coming after me with everything he heas in his very well equipped

arsenal. But, I hope that he understands something: I am ready, willing

and able to defend this NACW strap. I have been wanting an oppertunity

like this since I entered the sport, to defend the highest belt in the

whole federation against a-grade opponents. I feel this will be the first

challenge of my abilities and I, as I always have, look to prove to the

entire federation and to everyone within the sound of my voice, or the

reach of the wrestling world that Alan Soriano is a force, a force that

will be prominent in this sport for a long time. McWhirter, I hope you

are ready for a dogfight. Because thats what you are gonna get,

Man....One more Question?

Rep: Yes, Tom Pritchard, PWI. How can you, um, forsee how your title

reign will go?

Alan: Nobody can tell the future. But, one thing is for sure. I will not

be a stingy champion. I will serve notice right here, right now, that I

will not back down from any challenge presented to me, I will take all

comers, and make sure that this title is well defended and well taken

care of! There are so few good champions anymore..Chameleon over there..A

great champion. Russell was a great champion. Guys like HollyWood Hogan,

Drew Snyder, Jay Ryan, Mike Matthews, these men were not good champions.

They disgraced the belts they held. I will make everyone in the NACW

proud of their champion...

(Alan begins to leave the podium with Alexa...)

Well, I am gonna go celebrate. Thank you for being here...And one more

thing. A new reign is upon the NACW. Chameleon, Jeremy Rhodes, and

myself represent a new time. A new era of greatness for this

organization. Mark my words, these are the best times of the

NACW....Thank you..

(Alan and Alexa leave in a blaze of flashbulbs...As the screen fades to

black, Johnny Coast approaches the podium to answer questions....)

CHRIS WIDMAYER

[The scene opens up in a small Legion Hall in Whitewater, Wisconsin. A

man wearing a blood stained magazine is reading a copy of the new NACW

Monthly Magazine as he pages through the sensations to come section. The

fax machine light shoots on as a paper comes out. The man in the mask

grabs it and address's the camera]

Chris Widmayer: (smiling) Well I gotta say this is something I have never

imagined. The great people of the NACW decided to book an independent

star like myself. I want first off say that I am deeply honored and

moved at what you have done for my career.

[Chris wipes a tear away as he hands a trophey to his trainer Don Scraps

and walks over to the camera again]

Chris Widmayer: I have fought in many Royal Rumbles around the world and

have won the majority of them. This one thought, it will be different.

This is my first taste of international wrestling and I am pretty camera

shy. Can't ya tell?

[Chris smiles and grabs his agent by the jacket]

Chris Widmayer: Get me the first ticket to Canada we got big time now and

your gonna see some shit hit the fan.

Agent: But Chris we got a show coming up in Mexico City, La Caramba wants

to fight to get his mask back.

Chris Widmayer: YOU SHUT UP AND DO WHAT I TELL YOU. YOU GOT IT!?!?!

Agent: Chris did you take your medicine??

[Chris grabs his agent and hits him with a Belly to Belly suplex onto the

chair by them]

Chris Widmayer: (in a fury) DID YOU SEE THAT NACW!?!!?! YOU ALL PROBABLY

JUST

THINK I AM SOME WORTHLESS INDEPENDENT WRESTLER BUT I AM GONNA SHOW YOU

WHY YOUR ALL WRONG. WHY YOU ALL SHOULD JUST WATCH YOUR BACKS!!!!

[Chris looks at his agent and begins to cry again]

Chris Widmayer: Greg are you okay?? PLEASE I DID NOT MEAN TO!!! GET UP

PLEASE!!!!! I'M SORRY!!!

[Chris continues to beg Greg as a man in a suit pushes the camera out the

door and in the background 3 tall guys in black drag Chris away]

LOST METAL

( The scene opens up to a frantic wrestling reporter. He's waving his

arms like crazy signaling a camera man to come with him. The camera man

grabs his camera, throws the sandwich stuffed in his mouth into the

garbage can in the hallway and takes off. The wrestling reporter weighing

at about half the weight of the camera man yells madly at him to hurry

up. )

Reporter: Move that fat ass! Common hurry up! I've got a madman in the

back area, I think somethings up!

( The screen gets very blurry as the camera man runs as fast as his fat

ass can down the hallway. )

Reporter: Okay, slow down their big boy, just right around this corner...

BAM!

( The camera man comes to a dead stop and the reporter just got nailed by

a door that got flung open. The camera man pans to the door getting

slammed shut then back to the fallen reporter. )

Camera man: Hey, are you alright?

( The reporter grabs his forehead and rubs it. Then he tries to get up,

but it's in a very shocked and bewildered fashion. )

Reporter: I'll live, ugh...

( The reporter rubs his forehead until he find a spot where he feels a

bump forming. )

Reporter: Ahh, shit! Wait right here by the door while I go get some ice!

( The reporter takes off down the hallway while holding his forehead. The

camera man stands by the door and starts to whistle. Then he hears the

commotion that the wrestling reporter talked about coming from inside the

room. )

Camera man: Holy shit! That guy in their is throwing everything around!

Did I just hear a tv? I bet the guy who pays my bills here in the NACW

would be very pleased if I stopped this guy from messing up the room...

Hmmmmm...

( The camera man thinks for awhile then grabs the door knob and notices

the door isn't locked. While he is testing the door knob you can hear

hundred of obscenities being yelled throughout the room. Then you hear a

shattering of glass and the clunk of something heavy. )

Camera man: Well it's do or die. 1...2...3...

( The camera man throws open the door and the camera catches Lost Metal

throwing his tv around by a wire. He is scraping it up against everything

and kicking it all around. You see holes in the walls everywhere and a

couch flipped over. )

Camera man: Hey, you! Thats right you! Stop now or I'll have to call the

police on your ...

( The camera man gets interrupted as you see a huge object being thrown

right into view. Then you hear something big falling to the ground and

the camera man yelling in pain. )

Lost Metal: Shut the fuck up!

( Lost Metal grabs the camera man and throws him out of the room. Just

then the wrestling reporter comes into view. )

Reporter: What the hell is going on here?

Lost Metal: That peice of thrash just bursts in here and I gave him what

he got coming to him!

Reporter: Well what the hell is wrong with you? Your room is a mess!

( The wrestling reporter slams the door shut right after throwing the ice

pack he went to get for his forehead to the camera man. He then sets the

camera up and it catches Lost Metal kicking his tv a couple more times

and yelling more obscenities. )

Reporter: Alright I can see something is wrong here and I know it wasn't

just the camera man. Now before you go and beat this whole room to a pulp

I was wondering if I could get a few words from you?

( Lost Metal picks the tv on the ground up, throws it into the wall and

yells.)

Lost Metal: Look asswhole, I don't know if you know how it feels to

almost lose one of your best friends but I almost fucking did!

( The reporter scratches his chin and thinks for a little bit then looks

back at a crazed Lost Metal. )

Reporter: Kid you've got to know how to keep your cool. Now as for your

friend, why don't you go ahead and tell me what happened?

( Lost Metal just plops to the ground and lands on his rear. Then his

hands fan back through his hair as he looks at the ground. )

Lost Metal: It was Dream man, it was Dream. One of my best buds from way

back man, and I don't have many of those.

( The reporter then pushes aside a bunch of parts from the television

laying around and makes a seat for himself on the ground. )

Reporter: Dream, the man has had an absence lately in the NACW. Would you

mind

enlightening us more about him and whats happening with him?

Lost Metal: This guy was a killer friend and a great wrestler. Infact he

is, or was one of the best wrestlers of all time.

Reporter: Was?

( Lost Metal sighs hard and takes a deep breath )

Lost Metal: A car crash.

Reporter: Excuse me?

Lost Metal: Thats what fucking happened to Dream! He got in a fucking car

crash man! My bud, the man that saved my whole damn career by asking me

to be the Senior Vice President of the HWA, the man that started the most

lethal group out their with me, the S.O.D.! We started it and it looks

like I might be the only founder of the two to fight until the end of it.

Reporter: I'm at a lost for words right now.

( Lost Metal dunks his head deep into his lap )

Lost Metal: Tell me about it.

Reporter: Well how bad were his injuries.

Lost Metal: Thats the thing man, they were very bad. I can't remember

every detail. I just remember visiting him and he was out cold.

Reporter: So how are things shaping up for the S.O.D. without Dream.

( Lost Metal's head raises up and looks into the camera )

Lost Metal: Dream is gone and Shane Andrews left with him. So far it's

just me, Night Child, and Josh Walters. Josh, I can understand if you

don't want to stay with us because of this, but we wouldn't leave you if

you needed us, and this is the S.O.D.'s time of need. We are the last of

the blood thirsty, the last crusaders of a dieing breed. Night Child,

Lost Metal, and Josh Walters. So far the S.O.D. has been all us anyway,

now it truly is, all us.

Reporter: It seems that the S.O.D. will be in a tight situation if Josh

Walters does decide to leave.

Lost Metal: Thats his choice. Like I said I'll understand any move he

makes, but I don't turn my back, I'm full on confrontational. Dream got

in a car accident, I went and visited him, I didn't go cry in some dark

room and I sure as hell won't leave him hanging. You can bet your ass

I'll be checking up everyday in that hospital room with him to see if

he's okay.

Reporter: I know this is a hard subject for you, but I have to ask about

your match with Jaguar. I was wondering if the reason you went into that

match and tore him apart is because you came out knowing that Dream was

hurt. You were pissed and in a lethal mentality were you not?

Lost Metal: I guess you hit the nail right on the head with that one. I'm

not one who can control his anger, I was a suicidal kid. Practically

every match I've ever had, had a stipulation in it. Whether it be falls

count anywhere, anything goes, whatever. I was suicidal as a kid and I'm

suicidal now, but now I'm suicidal in wrestling where as when I was young

I was suicidal with my life. See when I went in that ring tonight it was

all high risk, all balls to the wall. Thats me, thats my mentality, thats

what I bring to the ring. Thats why they call me, The Thing That Should

Not Be, thats why I am the true Duke Of Destruction! So when I came out

to that ring knowing that one of my best friends in the world was down

and I had a fight to goto, all that was running through my disfunctional

mind was all out carnage and destruction. All I wanted was to inflict

pain and suffering. All I wanted was to take out some of my rage, and

aggravation. Unfortunately for Jaguar, his unlucky ass had to feel the

hell that I unleashed from deep inside of me onto him.

Reporter: Well the rage didn't stop their. It continued on through the

night right to Ban X. Tell us about that.

Lost Metal: By that time I was all worked up and had nothing to take my

steam out on. I had just kicked the living shit out of Jaguar and I was

on such a destructive high that I couldn't contain myself anymore. I

stormed out to the ring and went for the first thing I saw move.

Uncoincidently, I nailed Ban X with a small peice of my Creeping Death

Drop. Uncoincidently again, he is my next up and coming opponent at

Saturnday Night Slam Masters.

Reporter: Now I know you and Ban X have a lot of bad blood, but I didn't

expect you to get a match with him so soon. Please tell me some of your

thoughts on this match with you versus Ban X on Saturday Night Slam

Masters.

Lost Metal: Well, for now they are very mixed. I thought I cleared our

bad blood when I apologized to him off camera. Not many people know about

this but it happened when we were in a meeting to resign me to the GAWA.

I guess my apology broke when I Creeping Death Dropped him on Saturday

Night Slam Masters.

( Lost Metal then runs his hands through his hair one last time and looks

up to the camera fully as he settles in to the interview and his

surroundings better. )

Lost Metal: I guess I do have some thoughts on our match. First of all,

Ban X I think you are a great athlete and a great wrestler. I have some

hidden respect for you beneath my skin even though me and you don't

exactly see eye to eye very well. But lets face it, your a wrestler in a

hardcore tournament. I'm an X-TREME'ist and a wrestler in a hardcore

tournament. The odds are a little stacked against you. Why do I think

this? Because think about all the matches you've seen me in while I've

been in the NACW. First, Lost Metal with Dream versus Cardinal Syn and

Pope Sixtus. It was annihilation, total destruction. Me and Dream double

TKO'd Cardinal Syn and Pope Sixtus, we left that match handing them the

biggest ass whooping of a lifetime and didn't even get a scratch on our

bodies! Then I wrestled in a numerous number of short house shows against

Jeremy Rhodes in some pretty damn hardcore matches. Then just last

Saturday I ripped Jaguar to shreds in a falls count anywhere match. Hey,

Ban X, yeah you might beat me in a wrestling match, then again I think

I'd stand a good chance, but theirs not much of a chance of you beating

me in a hardcore match. Those matches stand for everything Lost Metal is,

high flying, deph defying, and electrifying!

( The reporter starts to do a little clap )

Reporter: Very well put together description of yourself their.

( Lost Metal smirks into the camera for the first time of the whole

interview, it shortly fades away as it was a very casual and sarcastic

one. )

Lost Metal: Yeah thanks.

Reporter: So we now know that you think you are going to win this match

because it is a hardcore one?

Lost Metal: Very true, thats how I said it and thats how I think it will

be.

( The reporter then glances at his wrist watch and looks back at Lost

Metal. )

Reporter: Well Lost Metal, as the clock ticks your match with Ban X comes

closer and closer. Is their any last closing things you would like to say

to him while your still on air?

Lost Metal: Actually yes their is.

( Lost Metal stands up and dusts the electrical parts from the tv off of

his bottom. Then he kicks some wires aside and looks into the camera. )

Lost Metal: You know Ban X, we've never really seen eye to eye. Sure in

the opening moments of the GAWA we almost became friends. But then me and

Dream busted the S.O.D. out on your ass and took over the whole thing.

Then we spray painted your titles, dissed everyone in your fed and took

off, but only after beating practically everyones ass. While this all

happened you also had some not so nice choice words and threats going out

to me. It has all lead up to this match on Saturday Night Slam Masters in

the hardcore tournament. I wish the best of luck to the both of us, but I

wish it to me way more... Not that I'll need it. So before I leave you

today I want you to know this Banny Boy. Are you ready to face the most

unpredicatable, high flying deph defying, spontanious, suicidal wrestler

in the world of wrestling today? If you are, train hard my friend because

you will soon step into the realm of true destruction, and then you will

know why I am called The Thing That Should Not Be. So Banny, eat your

vitmins, drink your orange juice, and train like crazy. Because the

Creeping Death Drop I gave you on Saturday was nothing. It was a peice of

the pie, just wait until you get to take a bite out of the whole thing.

GET READY FOR THE HARDEST HARDCORE MATCH OF YOUR LIFE!

( The reporter sticks out his hand so Lost Metal can help him up. All of

the sudden the camera man comes bursting in with an ice pack on his head.

Then the camera catches Lost Metal grabbing his head and spinning around

like crazy. He reaches for the camera but then Lost Metal kicks the

reporters hand out of the way and pounces the camera man. Then the screen

fades to black as Lost Metal throws the camera against the wall. )

< Fade To Black >

BRIAN J. BLOTTIE

*Scene opens backstage, in the locker room of "The True Living Legend"

Brian J. Blottie. Blottie sits, rubbing the back of his neck, with a

towel around his waist. His hair is wet, and it is apparent that either

he just got out of the shower or he REALLY likes the Val Venis look.

Blottie looks up at the camera and smiles*

Blottie: Come in, come in. Gloat in the fact that I didn't win. Take it

ALL in. "The True Living Legend" in his moment of defeat... but wait a

minute. I was never pinned. So you CAN'T gloat at my defeat. All you

can do is say I didn't win. And even legends can't win everyday.

*Blottie stands up, walks over to his locker, and drops the towel. A

blur comes up over his buttocks, as he grabs a pair of underwear, and

then a pair of black jeans. He puts them on, then sits back down,

shirtless*

Blottie: Congratulations, Flying Scotsman. You got the big win. But

remember that you never beat me. You never pinned me in the middle of

that ring. And in the meantime, your other "friend" decked me upside the

head with a chair, collectively taking me out of the match at the key

moment when you put the Scottish Breaker on Shaun McWhirter. And now

comes the true moment of confusion. The cherry on top of the cake.

McWhirter gets a WORLD title shot for his defeat. And I get a non-title

match with "Lobo" Jeremy Rhodes. And this is a just decision in what

way?

*Blottie shakes his head, stands up, and begins to pace. As he speaks,

the pacing increases in speed*

Blottie: But I'm not going to complain. I'm not going to question Shawn

Coat's decision. Instead I'm going to lay it down like it is. This

Sunday, at Sunday Night Slam Masters, I'm going to take on, and take

apart, the NACW United States Champion. But I'm not just going to beat

Jeremy Rhodes. Oh no. I'm going to make him realize, once and for all,

who the TRUE living legend is. I'm going to make him WISH he was in a

Crimson Rain match. There is no word in the English dictionary that

describes the pain I will put him through. And in the end, I hope to God,

I hope to Jesus Christ himself, that Jeremy Rhodes realizes just what I

am... his "friend".

*Blottie stops pacing and turns to the camera. A wild look is in his

eyes, a look never before seen from Blottie. It is a look of pure glee

and pure hatred all rolled up into one. It is a look of insanity that

Wayne, Rhodes, and The Scotsman COMBINED could never emulate. He looks

downright commitable. And the smile on his face doesn't make him look any

saner*

Blottie: Oh yes, we WILL be "friends". The bestest friends there ever

has been. Hell, we're gonna be like brothers. BLOOD brothers. We're

gonna let the blood flow like it never has before. Just me and you,

Rhodes. Beating on each other until one of us stops moving. And then,

one of us is going to win. And that man... well, he won't look like a

winner. He won't feel like a winner. But he will have the win over the

other. And he will be able to take that win... into the match I'm

proposing now.

*Blottie's smile, as impossible as it may seem, gets wider. The look in

his eyes gets wilder. And what little semblence of sanity remained in

the face of Blottie is gone*

Blottie: Three way dance. No count-outs. No disqualification. No

rules. Just me and my "friends", Jeremy Rhodes and The Flying Scotsman.

Getting down and dirty... and bloody. I will prove to the both of you

that I am a legend. I'm gonna prove to EVERYONE that I'm a legend.

I'm gonna prove it to you, daddy. So long ago, you told me that I

could be a legend... if only I applied myself. If I wasn't such a wuss.

If I wasn't such a little boy. I'm not a little boy anymore. I have

everything... except you. I hate you... and I love you... and I... I...

*Blottie breaks down, weeping outloud. Tears stream down his cheeks, he

sobs uncontrollably. And inbetween the sobs, he keeps talking*

Blottie: I... wish you were here... to see... me... succeed. To see...

me... make something of myself. To have... your... love. Why didn't

you... ever... love me? Why?! WHY!?!?!?

*Blottie puts his head in his hands, and sobs. He gets up, walks over to

his locker, and leans his head against it. He suddenly begins to slam

his head into the locker, over and over*

Blottie: THE PAIN... IS THE... ONLY WAY... OUT!!!! YOU NEVER... LOVED

ME!!!! ALL... I EVER... WANTED... WAS YOU TO... LOVE ME!!!! THE PAIN...

THE PAIN YOU MADE... ME FEEL!!!!! I DON'T UNDERSTAND... I...

*Blottie collapses, his back against the locker. The locker is dented

where he just got through slamming his head, and blood is trickling down

his forehead. He looks up at the camera, tears and blood mixing as they

both pour down his face*

Blottie: I don't understand. Hopefully... I can find love with my new

"friends". I never found it... with you. I have to move on. That's...

what mom told me. When... I was... younger. But now she's gone... too.

And you... won't get out... of my head. Your voice... lives on...

through me. I'm going to make you proud. This Sunday... I'll make you...

proud. Rhodes... I want to be... friends. I want you... to love me...

like you love... The Scotsman. I want the Scotsman... to love me... like

he loves you. All I want is love... and your blood. On my hands.

*Blottie smiles, though blood and tears still stream down his cheeks*

Blottie: I will beat you... this Sunday. We'll be... Blood Brothers.

Me, you, and The Scotsman. We'll love... each other... through the hate.

And I'll still be... "The True... Living...

*Blottie sobs and laughs at the same time, the sanity slipping back into

his voice*

Blottie: Legend". Until next time...

*Blottie weeps loudly, as the camera backs up. Blottie cries loudly into

his hands, and the camera, finally, fades to black*

MR. FAITH

[You see the church that Mr.Faith was in before and the cameraman goes

into the church. The camera goes into the main section of the church and

you look down the aisle and there is a man sitting in the third row back,

and he is facing the where the preacher usually stands and then he begins

to speak]

the man: Sunday night Slam masters. Wooh. Man that was really nice.

Scotsman won again, Al Soriano won the belt, Justin Russell was there

doing commentary, yeah it was nice.

[the camera swings around and you see that the man is Mr.Faith. He is

wearing a pair of jeans and a black "Franchise" Shane Douglass t-shirt]

Mr.Faith: I thought it was a pretty good night all around. And for me it

was o.k. My debut in NACW started off great. I was beating down Obediah

then he gave me a low blow and then I came back and was beating him down

again, then he threw me a thumb to the eye. Yep Yep Yep. I see Obediah

needed to take alot of shortcuts to fight me. He then went to do the Hand

of God on me but luckily for my sake Dudley came out hit him with the mag

lite, handcuffed him and then we beat him down but someone had to ruin

our fun by saving Obediah.

[Mr. Faith stands up and walks up to the podium and the camera follows

right behind him]

Mr. Faith: I noticed that this Holy, God loving man you claim to be had

to use shortcuts to keep me down. Well well well I see soon as you step

into the ring you become a dirty fighter. I underestimated that in you.

Because I was expecting a fair fight, well next time it is on. Nothing

will hold me back in that Rookie Rumble not you or anybody. Soon as I

step into that ring I'll be an animal.[He hoists the podium over his

head.]I'll be tossing bodies out of that ring like nobodies business. You

want fight dirty, do ya Obedaih well after this win I will get a the

rookie rumble I want to fight you in an anything goes type match. I want

you and me to sit down with Coats and find out what the most dangerous

match the NACW has and I want you and me in it.[He throws the podium to

the side]And you Dudley! I am glad you came in and helped me out in the

match when he was going to do his move on me but come sunday you and me

are going to go at it. When I step into the ring with you not God or the

Devil will help you when I get my hands on you. And your so called law

will not help you and the only thing that you will be answering to is

when I ask you who's your Daddy and you say you are Mr. Faith! I'm going

to slap each and every one of those pussy ass rookies around like they

were my bitch![Looking directly at the camera with glaring eyes full of

rage]Obediah you call me a false prophet. No way bitch! I am the only

prophet and I am stronger, bigger and better than you are and when it

comes sunday who ever steps in that ring will find out that THE HAND OF

GOD IS NO MATCH FOR MY TRUE POWER!

I'm finished here.

[He gets down on his kness and begins to pray to God to have mercy on the

souls of the men that will be in the ring for the rookie rumble]

THE FLYING SCOTSMAN

[Scotsman appears out of NACQ HQ. There is 20 reporters waiting there to

speak to him]

[They start making noise, and asking questions]

Scotsman: "HEY! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SSHHHUUUUTTTTT UPPPPPP!!!!!"

[They start to quiet down.]

Reporter: "Scotsman! Over here! How do you feel after that victory?"

Scotsman: "Security. Beat that man."

[Security run over and grab the reporter and take him off to beat him,

presumably]

"Now this is my press conference. That means that I ask the questions.

I'll also supply the answers, unless any of you object."

"Now...any questions?"

[One reporter yells out something]

"Hey! I said I would ask the questions. Security..."

[Security grab her and take her away...for another beating..presumably]

"Now....press conference over. I hope you all got the information you

came for."

[Reporters look stunned as Scotsman leaves, bowing to the reporters]

THE FLYING SCOTSMAN (LATER THAT DAY)

[A video camera turns on, and Scotsman is looking straight at it]

Scotsman: "Hey. This is The Flying Scotsman of the NACW...hey Mr

Coats..what the hell does NACW stand for? I've been here for 8 years, and

I still don't know."

[Scotsman writes something down on a pad]

"Ok. I've got a plan here. See?"

[Scotsman shows the pad to the camera. All it is is a drawing of a stick

man]

"This, is my plan. My plan to win the hardcore title. Its all written

down here. I've got my thesis...I've got my essay plan..hell I even have

some Shakespeare quotes thrown in for good measure!"

[Scotsman writes something down, then shows the pad to the camera]

[It says "Shakespeare 3:16 Will Whoop Your Ass"]

"Oh boy, am I EVER gonna win this title!"

"First though, and henceforth Juliet, I will have to discuss Sunday Night

Slammasters...no wait a minute..."

[He looks at his pad]

"Slam MASTERS. TWO WORDS. You get fined if you say its only one word.

I have to remember. Two words. Two words."

"Anyway, last night at Slammasters I won my match. Did ya see? Did ya

see how I won the match?"

"I won, with a penny to save!"

"Brian Blottie, friend, I enjoyed our match. You put up a great battle,

and if it wasn't for the fact that I won, you could've won."

"McWhirter, you see what happened? I pinned you. Thats

Piiiiiiiiiinnnnneedddd!! Pinned I say, pinned!"

[He looks at the notepad again]

"No wait....I made you submit! And thanks to my friend Jeremy Rhodes for

hitting my other friend Blottie! Its the funnest thing alive!"

"Then after the match we all hugged! Then my OTHER friend goes on to win

a title! Everythings going right!!!"

"Due to that, I've decided to write a song."

[Scotsman stands up, clears his throat and looks at his notebook]

"Young man, there's a place you can go

I said, young man, when you're short on your dough

You can stay there, and I'm sure you will find

Many ways to have a good time.

It's fun to stay at......"

[Scotsman stops and looks puzzled]

"Wait a minute! This is the wrong song. Who's been switching around my

songs?"

"JEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREMY!"

"JERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREMY!"

"I'll get you Jeremy! I told you to stop switching around my songs!!

Every day, thats all you do. It ISN'T funny!"

"Now next week, I have to face a mystery wrestler. Why? Whys it a

mystery? Is he too scared? Or is he satan himself?"

[Scotsman looks worried]

"Pllllllease!! Please Mr Coats, tell me who it is!! PLEASE MR COATS!

DAMNIT I SAID PLEASE!!!"

[He picks up the stool he was sitting on and smashes it]

"Interview over! CUT! CUT!!"

[As there is no camerman...it can't cut.]

"I SAID CUT!! DAMNIT MAN, WHERE HAVE YOU GONE?"

[Scotsman goes off to look for the cameraman....]

BLOOD BOY

<Scene opens with Blood Boy reading the NACW Sunday Night Slam Masters

Schedule over in his apartment... He puts it down, picks it back up,

crumbles it up and throws it like a basketball into the trash.>

Blood Boy: Well, Rookie Rumble on Sunday Night Slammas-- Haha, almost

tricked ya. Slam Masters. Me and Revenger.... and Red Leaf all in one

ring and not on the same side. Only one man can wind this. I don't care

if its me or not, but I care if its a Rebel or not. The Rebels stand

together and apart from everyone else.

Blood Boy: Ah, don't worry... Just food colouring.

Blood Boy: Why don't we see what's on TV, shall we?

Blood Boy: Damn, when I get my house, I'll buy a dish. I want more

channels.

<Turns TV off. He opens the battery lid on the box and removes the

batteries. He takes them out, opens the door...>

Blood Boy: Disposable Batteries.... Five uses.

Blood Boy: Well, that's my way. You can also throw them out, but I'm

selective of what goes in my garbage. Well, that's about all... So as

Revenger says, Revenge is so sourly bitter! I mean Revenge is so bitterly

sour! No. Revenge is so sweet and sour. Wait, its gotta be Revenge is so

bitterly sweet! Nah thats not it either. Anyways....

THE MYSTERY MAN

[The scene opens up to a cluttered up old garage, with just barely enough

light to see from a bulb hanging overhead. There's crap scattered all

over, from tools like hammers and nails to wrenches and screwdrivers,

boxing equipment, a chain, and some weights. On a cd player, propped

against a wall, "It's On" by Korn is blaring. The entrance to the attic

is swung open, with a ladder standing under it.]

[All of a sudden, coming down from the ladder, covered in sawdust and

soot, is a man who can't be identified in the dim room. All that can be

seen, as he is on the other side of the garage, is that he has long hair,

and he's wearing some big pants.]

[The man stands behind the ladder, and stares through toward the camera.

His demeanor is as if he's dead, as if he can no longer move. Making sure

not to get into the view of the camera, he hides behind the ladder,

although starting to show some movement.]

Man: Seems I'm the one they're calling ??? in this thing. Seems I'm the

wildcard in this whole hardcore tournament thing. Seems I'm the one who's

coming into this thing as a "replacement." Replacement, wild card,

whatever you desire, I'm the one who's been lucky enough be stuffed into

this thing after Jeremy Rhodes nearly killed himself in the quest to

knock off Insane Wayne. I couldn't be happier, to be honest. Hardcore is

a beautiful thing. Why use a fist when there's a perfectly fine wrench

available? Why sit down on a chair if you can swing it?

I've been lucky enough to get the draw against The Flying Scotsman,

someone making huge waves these days. By popping Blottie over the head

with a bottle because he doesn't know what friends are. Yes, I'm fighting

the epitome of insanity. Does insanity make you hardcore? At times.

However, when you don't know the difference between an arm bar or a crow

bar, that kind of tells me you shouldn't be in the ring at all. I don't

know if Scotsman is one of those characters that likes the pain, but

either way, even in hardcore matches, there's a method to the way you

battle. Choose your weapons, choose your course of attack. Scotsman, Slam

masters, you're going to know why The wildcard has the advantage. For

more than one reason.

[The scene fades out, without revealing the mystery man.]

DUDLEY DO WRONG

[Scene opens as a NACW van is pulling up to a sleazy motel. An NACW

reporter gets out and walks towards one of the doors. She knocks

politely, then opens the door and steps inside "The Caveman Room."]

[Cut to inside, the room is adorned with cheesey styrofoam rocks and

animal furs that look like they were made from used up Davy Crocket hats.

Dudley Do Wrong is hunched over in front of the TV.]

Reporter: Excuse me, Mr Do Wrong.

Dudley: *grumblegrumble*

Reporter: Excuse me?

Dudley: I said shut up! My show's comin' on.

[Cops comes on. Dudley sings along.]

Dudley: BAD BOYS BAD BOYS! WHATCHA GONNA DO! WHATCHA GONNA DO WHEN THEY

COME FOR YOU!

[Dudley semi-headbangs and semi-flexes along to the music.]

Dudley: WHATCHA GONNA DO! WHATCHA GONN-

Reporter: Mr. Do Wrong! I'm here to do an interview for NACW!

Dudley [still staring at the TV]: SHUT UP! I'M WATCHING MY SHOW!

Reporter: Uh.... OK. We'll wait till commercial....

Dudley [shouting at the TV]: KICK HIM IN THE TEETH! KICK HIM IN THE

TEETH! AWWWW COME ON! LETTING HIM OFF WITH A WARNING! DAMNIT! YOU SUCK

OFFICER BORBRODIE!

[Dudley pulls out his gun and shoots the TV. The reporter and camera

crew jump under the bed.]

Dudley: Awww fuck! Now I gotta find another TV!

[Dudley storms out of the room. The crew crawls out from under the bed

and follows. Dudley runs to down the patio to the next room, "The

Midevil Room". Dudley busts down the door. A young couple are in bed

together, "Shagspear in Lust" is playing on the TV.]

Man: Holy shit! What the hell are you doing!

Dudley: You're under arrest... for something.

[Dudley cuffs the couple to the bed and each other. He plops down in

front of the TV and changes over to Cops, which is just fading to

commercial.]

Dudley: Damnit!

Reporter: Uh, Mr. Dudley?

Dudley [startled]: Wuh?

Reporter: What are your thoughts on the upcoming NACW Rookie Rumble?

[Dudley stares at the TV confused for a few moments, then begins to

speak.]

Dudley: Listen, as far as I'm concerned, everyone of those pieces of

crap is nothing but two bit criminal. Mr. Faith, Obediah, Johnny Coast,

Maniac, Bob Booreng, Crushin Russian, Red Leaf. There all nothing but

crooks. And I'm not leaving that ring 'till there all locked up for

good.

Young Man in Bed: Uh... do you have keys for these things?

Reporter: Criminals? How so?

Dudley: Well, I've Obediah and Red Leaf for cruelty to animals. And I

hear that Rushin guy's got some mafia ties. I'll find stuff for the rest

of 'em.

Reporter: Mafia ties! His parents were killed by the mafi-

Dudley: SHUT UP MY SHOW'S ON!

[Dudley enters a trance like state as he watches the show. The couple in

the bed behind him struggle to pull blankets over themsleves.]

Dudley: SHOOT HIM! SHOOT HIM! HE RAN THE LIGHT! SHOOT HIM! ...AWWWW

THAT SUCKS! GOD DAMN PIECE OF SHIT!

[Dudley throws his maglite at the TV, shattering the glass. He barges

out of the room, pushing the crew out of the way.]

Reporter: Uh... let's just call that a wrap....

Man in Bed: hey, these hand cuffs aren't so bad... hey, could you put

"Elizabeth does Dalls" in and give us like five minutes?