Champions
World Heavyweight Title: The Phoenix
Intercontinental Title: Johnny Maverick
Champions

A New Beginning
08-12-2013


Welcome to RAMPAGE!!!


The scene opens to tonight's show and the arena is a buzz. First regular show under new management following one of the most action packed PPVs in the company's history. Now all eyes are on PWA to see just how they will follow up such a great show. But the look on the staff says it all. No more time for guessing. Rampage's new theme P.O.D.'s "Boom" blares through the speakers letting everyone know it's showtime.

"I never knew that a kid like me
Could take his mic around the world and flash the big S.D.
And rock the masses, from Madrid to Calabassas
Tijuana, Mexico, bootleg demos in Tokyo..."

The scene opens to Eli Storm sitting behind his desk at Incredible Inc. On his desk sits the contracts of Jethro Hayes, Matt Stone, Corey Lazarus and...Storm pushes the camera away before it could see the last contract. The scene switches to Grizzly Beer Champion, "The Genuine Pulse" Jacob Figgins, who is slowly shining his newly won gold.

“They know me though, 'cause I be puttin' in work
Commit my life to rebirth, well respected, 'cause that's my word
I'm sure you heard, about a new sound going around
She might have left my hood, but she was born in my town"

The scene then switches to PWA IC Champion, Duff Côte d`Ivoire. Duff is spinning some poor soul around and nailing The Master of Puppets '13. The scene then switches to Hunter Sullivan who is waiting for Viktor Stone to turn around before nailing the Viper Snap. Hunter smiles as Stone hit the mat.

"You didn't know, thought we was new on the scene
Well, it's alright! It's alright!
I know you know, I see you smiling at me
Well, it's alright! It's alright!"

The scene switches to Shawn O'Reilly getting forcefully getting removed from a fan fest, shouting and screaming at anyone who will listen to him. The cameras come up on the PWA Tag Team Champion, Matt Stone, smiling at the camera while in front of him rest both titles. Bodie Vera Cruz, is shown posing with the American flag. Sprinkles seem to be falling around him.

"Boom! Here comes the Boom!
Ready or not, here comes the boys from the South"

Sykopath is seen in the gym, surrounded in a circle of watermelons. As a bell rings he grabs a handful of forks and flings them with amazing speed towards the mid regions (nutts and berries) of the watermelons.

"Boom! Here comes the Boom!
How you like me now?"

The scene now changes to a beautiful field full of daises. Spread out within the daisies ad plant pots in shape of dodos. Anna Matthews is seen with Pedro, playing dress up with the PWA World Heavyweight Title. As the cameras zoom in, anna whispers something very softly...

Anna Mathews: Beware the puppets.

"Is that all you got?
I'll take your best shot."

The scene now switched to the announcer table where McDaniel and Rentfro are ready to get started.

Jon McDaniels: And welcome, folk, tonight promises to be actioned packed and..and....and Brian...you are looking very happy tonight...almost too happy.

Brian Rentfro: Yes, I got Eli's $500 bonus and man, listen...the midget strippers were loving me at The Bottoms Up!!!

Jon shakes his head and sighs.

Brian Rentfro: Heh, they even loved all my short comings...get it, short comings.

Jon McDaniel: Waaayyyyyy too much information. Anyway, after a great PPV we are back with the first Rampage under new management and it promises to be some special. With two matches that will handle the fate of the tag team titles and a match that you may all need a translator for. But why take my word for it.

Shawn O'Reilly vs Scottie Snow

Singles Match


Brian Rentfro: Let's go up to the ring and Eric Emerson with our first match of the evening.

Eric Emerson: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS YOUR OPENING CONTEST ON MONDAY NIGHT RAMPAGE!
THE FOLLOWING CONTEST IS SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL WIH A FIFTEEN MINUTE TIME LIMIT....INTRODUCING FIRST...

The familiar intro of the Pink Panther theme starts to play as the arena lights dim slightly. Scottie ?The Panther? Snow runs out to the top of the entrance ramp, does a bad kung fu pose, then high tails it to the ring.

Eric Emerson: IN THE RING NOW, WEIGHING IN AT 215 POUNDS, AND HAILING FROM MEMPHIS, TN., A FORMER PWA WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION AND PWA HALL OF FAMER....SCOTTIE 'THE PANTHER' SNOW!!!!!

The lights in the arena go dark.

'In Time' by Mark Collie begins to play. The fog machines go to work and the entrance lights go red, giving the fog a red hue.

I can hear what you're thinkin'
All your doubts and fear
And if you look in my eyes
In time you'll find the reason I'm here
And in time, all things shall pass away
In time, you may come back someday
To live once more or die once more
But in time, your time will be no more

As the vocals begin, Shawn O'Reilly walks through the curtain, wearing a dog collar and chain. He walks obliviously down the aisle, ignoring the fans. He walks up the ring steps, looks to his left and to his right, then jumps over the top rope into the ring. Some of the fans boo him, some cheer him. He's oblivious to both sides. He stands, emotionless in the middle of the ring.

You know your days are numbered
Count 'em one by one
Like notches in the handle of an outlaw's gun
You can outrun the Devil if you try
But you will never outrun the hands of time

In time there'll surely come a day
In time, all things shall pass away
In time, you may come back some say
Live once more or die once more
But in time, your time will be no more

Eric Emerson: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN....WEIGHING IN TONIGHT AT 233 LBS...FROM BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS HE IS...THE BOSTON BULLDOG...SHAWN O'REILLY!!!!

Jon McDaniel: Did O'Reilly actually say that he asked for this match against Scottie Snow?

Brian Rentfro: Yep.

Jon McDaniel: Do you think Snow stands a chance?

Brian Rentfro: Nope.

Jon McDaniel: Are you going to give one word answers all night?

Brian Rentfro: Maybe.

DING! DING!

Scottie Snow charges out of his corner, attempting a spear, but O'Reilly counters with a running knee strike that crumples 'The Panther.'

The crowd lets out a collective 'OOOOOHHHHH!'

Brian Rentfro: DAYUM!!!

Jon McDaniel: Devastating knee strike from the Bulldog. And he's not done.

O'Reilly grabs the double underhooks on Snow, picks him up, and drives him head first into the mat with the Bulldog Driver. He hooks the leg, which is purely unnecessary.

1...

2...

3!!!

Jon McDaniel: You can count to one hundred and it wouldn't matter.

Brian Rentfro: Nope.

Jon McDaniel: Let's go up to Eric Emerson for the official decision.

Eric Emerson: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE TIME OF THE FALL: 19 SECONDS...YOUR WINNER BY PINFALL...'THE BOSTON BULLDOG'...SHAWN O'REILLY!!!!!

O'Reilly slides out of the ring, grabs a chair and Emerson's mic and slides back in the ring.

Jon McDaniel: Uh-oh. This doesn't look good for The Panther!

Brian Rentfro: ♫DUH DUH DUH DUH YOU'RE DEAD! YOU'RE DEAD YOU'RE DEAD YOUR DEAD SCOTTIE SNOOOOOOW!♫

Jon McDaniel: Finally, more than one word.

O'Reilly drops the chair and helps Snow to his feet. He helps him over to the ropes and out of the ring.

O'Reilly: Let's hear it for Scottie Snow, everybody! Former PWA Champ and Hall of Famer! Give it up for Scottie Snow!

The fans give 'The Panther' polite applause as he staggers to the back, holding the back of his head. O'Reilly sets the chair in the middle of the ring, takes a seat and begins.

O'Reilly: Since my little 'outburst' last weekend, two questions have hounded me: 1. Why the display of anger, especially at a community outreach event? and 2. Why did you ask for a match with Scottie Snow?

Let me answer them in reverse order. Why Scottie? Because, as I just mentioned, he's a former champ and a Hall of Famer. He deserves a little respect. He deserves a chance to be on international TV, even if it is for nineteen seconds.
Now the big question...why did I cause a scene? Why did I shove a PWA official, and pick a fight with a security guard? Why did I do this, knowing full well that it was being captured on some kid's cel phone?

Simple. To make an impact. To get attention.

Not the attention of the fans, or the internet wrestling community, or the mainstream media. I did it to get the attention of the powers that be in the PWA.

I want it to be known right here and now that I tried to get a little time on the pre show before Sizzler to 'air my grievances.' I even submitted a written copy of what I was gonna say to Andy Strickland the day before the production meetings. His response?

'Well, ya know, Shawn, I really wish we could. But ya know, we just don't have a spot for ya. Sorry.'

So I asked for a match at Sizzler. Any match. Any opponent. Same response from 'Fantastic' Andy.

That got me to thinkin. I spent nineteen years working my way to the PWA. I started in the AAWA as an errand boy, getting wrestlers booze, drugs, women, whatever they needed. Then I graduated up to ring boy, then curtain jerker. Finally after nineteen years with the same company, I get a call from Andy Strickland, General Manager/General Flunkie for Rob Robinson and the PWA. He offered me a spot on the PWA roster and I jumped at it. I announced my departure from the AAWA, did the honors on the way out on March 31st, 2013, and met with Andy the next day to sign the contract. His exact words to me were, 'Shawn, you make an impact here and I promise you...I guarantee you a World Title shot by Summer Sizzler.'

So on April 14th, I made an impact in my debut, winning a 4-way match and making myself one of the most hated people in the PWA. Then on May 5th, I made an impact, with what a lot of people are calling a match of the year candidate with Meghan Nash Strader. On June 2nd, I made a double impact, defeating Tina Madison twice and taking May Havoc to her absolute limit. Then on July 8th, I make what I think is the biggest impact of all, when I defeat the best pure wrestler in the PWA and, in my opinion, the best pure wrestler in the sport today, Marvin Wood.

I held up my end of the bargain. So on August the 3rd, I made another impact, this time with the knowledge that, social media being the way it is, the powers that be would have no other choice but to give me this forum. To give me an opportunity to confront Andy Strickland, and make him make good on his promise.

But now, Strickland's gone. Replaced by the legendary Eli Storm. Eli, I respect you and your legacy. But don't mistake respect for fear. I intend to make you make good on the promise that THIS company made me from the beginning. I want...no I expect...no I DEMAND a World title shot. I did my part. I made an impact. Now give me what I want...what I deserve. You have until the main event to give me a response, Storm.

O'Reilly stands up and throws the chair up the rampway.

O'Reilly: Or else, I make another impact.

If You Weel


Jon McDaniel: After the chaos at Summer Sizzler, let's go up to Lean Bean Miller in the back.

Lean Bean Miller: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Monday Night Rampage! In the wake of Summer Sizzler, an already simmering rivalry has come to a boil as Mr. Americana has joined the Duff Cote D'Ivoire/GoD battle, threatening to turn it into an all out war. Why did he do it? Let's get the answers from the man himself. My guest at this time...Mr. Americana! C'mon out and explain to all of us why you have interjected yourself into this feud.

Mr. Americana walks into frame. He's wearing A slick black cowboy hat, a black sportcoat over a black dress shirt, complete with bolo tie. His ensemble is completed with black sunglasses, faded jeans and black cowboy boots.

Mr. Americana: Well thankya, Lean Bean. Firtht of all, I wanna thank Vikta Thtone for a great match at the Thumma Thizzla. I don' like ya, but I rethpect the hell outta ya.

Mr. Americana takes his coat an dhat off. He removes his bolo tie, unbuttons the top three buttons on his shirt and rolls up his shirt sleeves.

Mr. Americana:Now, with that outta the way...

DAMN YOU, HUNTA THULLIVAN! AND DAMN YOU, JACOB FIGGINTH!
I had jutht finithed my hard earned victry ova Vikta Thtone, and wath about to go to me and Mith Thindy Lou Jenkinth private aftaparty at Willie Joe'th Thoul Food Emporium. It wath gonna be thuch a thpread. I'm talkin chitlinth! Thpare ribth! Cone fritterth! Harmony gritth! Prethulth! Pickled pigth feet! Buttamilk! And NANNER PUDDIN, IF YOU WEEL!
Me and Thindy Lou wath jutht fittin to walk out the door, when I look up at the moniter and what did I thee? It wath you two attackin Duffy Coat Diva, if you weel. It wath pathetic, daddy.Dere y'all wath putting yo four fithtetheth on Duffy'th one head.
It made me thick to my thtomach. Tho thick that I almotht, ALMOTHT, lotht my appetite.
It made me thick cauthe here was Duffy Coat Diva, if you weel, a man who goeth out there night in and night out and giveth one hunnert and ten perthent when he'th in the ring, getting jumped on by a couple of no good, yellow bellied, egg thuckin dogth, if you weel, and I couldn't abide it no longa!
Tho I turn to my thweet Thindy Lou, and I thays to her, 'Baby, the afta party gone haf to wait juth the leatht little bit, cauthe I got a man out there that needth thome help.' An the thays to me, the thays, 'You go get 'em, honey pot!'
OOOOOOOOWEEEE! That wath all Mithta Americana needed to hear. Tho out I came and helped Duffy whip they fruit bootieth, if you weel!
Now don't get me wrong. I don' agree with evythang that Duffy believe in, and Duffy don' believe in evythang I believein. He liketh Dio, an I like Bothephus. He drankth the firewata, and I drank the buttamilk. He eatth bacon double heetheburgerth, and I eat...well, I eat bacon double cheetheburgerth, too.
COMMON GROUND, BABY! COMMON GROUND!
Ther ith a couple otha thang that we in complete and total thynchronithity about:
One, y'all ain't nothing but a couple of no good, no count low down egg thuckin dogth.
and two,
We both believe it'th time y'all get yo atheth whooped!
And anotha thang...y'all call y'allthelf GoD. I ain't thtupid, boyth, I know it meanth Generathion of Dethttructhion. But y'all walk around here like y'all a couple of Godth among men.
Dat ain't right, daddy! But y'all have the cutetht little nicknameth individually, too.
Hunta Thullivan, you call yothelf 'The Vipa. And Jacob Figginth, you call yothelf 'The Genuwine Pulthe.' Dothe nameth jutht won't do, baby. Dey jutht won't do.
Tho I tell y'all what. Mithta Americana got new nicknameth for both y'all.
Hunta, I'mma call you 'Thully-Poo.' Jacob, I'mma call you 'Figgy-Poo.'
Togetha, that maketh y'all 'Poo-Poo!' An' dat fitth y'all to a tee, cauthe y'all ain't nuttin but a couple a pieceth of thit, if you weel!
Tho, Poo-Poo, get ready, cauthe thith boogie train of Mithta Americana and Duff Coat Diva, if you weel, gonna run y'all down.
We gone treat y'all like the poo-poo y'all are. We gone fluth y'all down the terlet, den forget bout y'all.
Believe dat, Jack!

Mr. Americana walks out of camera shot as the fans in the arena go nuts.

Lean Bean Miller: Well, I can't think of anything else to say but, Jon, Bryan, back to you!

Hunter Sullivan vs Emperor Ian

Tag Titles Stip Match #1


Eric Emerson: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is set for one fall, with a fifteen minute time limit!

“Imperial March” plays as Emperor Ian walks to the ring, slapping hands with the fans.

Eric Emerson: Introducing first...from San Diego, California... weighing in at 202 lbs...EMPEROR IAAAN!

Ian flips himself over the ropes into the ring and raises his arms up into the air.

Brian Rentfro: Why the hell are we letting this loser challenge for our company’s gold? He’s not even part of the roster anymore.

Jon McDaniel: I’m just happy we’re going to have a tag division again.

The lights begin to fade, dimming to a calming light. Green and purple start to glow and flash, the arena looking to the stage as A Perfect Circle starts to play and blare. Sullivan is waiting in the gorilla position for the lyrics to hit before bursting out onto the stage. Fans are already responding in a harsh chorus of Jeers.*

Eric Emerson: And his opponent...from Corner Brook, Newfoundland, Canada...weighing in at 227 lbs... he is the Viper, HUNTERRR SULLIVVAAAAN!"

You're such an inspiration for the ways
That I'll never ever choose to be
Oh so many ways for me to show you
How the savior has abandoned you

*With the signal of the beginning lyrics Hunter storms out of his position, of course to a series of discriminating chants and boos. Hunter’s artier showed off as he started moving his way across the stage. The green and purple lights reflected and caused glimmer on his body. A cool, calculating smirk seemed steady and planted on his face, an unnerving confidence, a form of malevolence shines through. The ramp was laid out before him, en route to his goal.*

Fuck your God
Your Lord and your Christ
He did this
Took all you had and
Left you this way
Still you pray, you never stray
Never taste of the fruit
You never thought to question why

*Sullivan walked calmly and professionally down the ramp. The steel ramp under Hunter's feet reacted with a clank, none of which could be heard over the music and jeers in unison. Soon Sullivan found himself on the matting surrounding the ring. He reacted quickly, rolling into the ring and heading towards the turnbuckle that was closest. Soon climbing up it he merely looked around and reacted with a combined smirk-scoff.*

It's not like you killed someone
It's not like you drove a hateful spear into his side
Praise the one who left you
Broken down and paralyzed
He did it all for you
He did it all for you

*The music died off and Sullivan dropped back to the mat, looking around the ring, making a few last mental notes. His new music finally cutting off and settling.

Jon McDaniel: The Viper is ready to do battle.

Brian Rentfro: I’m sure he is. He knows that piece of BWF garbage doesn’t belong in a PWA ring.

The bell rings and Ian offers up a handshake. Hunter smirks and slowly offers his own hand.

Brian Rentfro: No Hunter, it’s a trap!

They shake hands, and Sullivan smacks Ian hard in the head with his left hand.

Brian Rentfro: Hah, take that Emperor!

Hunter chucks Ian into the nearest corner. He wails on Ian with punches and kicks until ref Scott Swindell pushes him away. The men hook up and Sullivan gets in an European uppercut. He Irish whips the Emperor into the opposite corner. Hunter charges, but Ian moves out of the way, and the Viper collides with the turnbuckle. Ian goes for a backslide.

Jon McDaniel: Ian with a backslide.

1...

Brian Rentfro: Come on Viper! Kick out!


2...

Brian Rentfro: Come on!

3!!!!

DING! DING! DING!

Brian Rentfro: NO! NO! NO!

Jon McDaniel: I can’t believe it, but Ian has won the match!

Brian Rentfro: Fast count! Ian was pulling the tights!

Eric Emerson: Your Winner... EMPEROR IAN!

Ian jumps up and raises his arms in triumph. Hunter stares at him with a look of disbelief. Sullivan gets in Swindell’s face, but the ref confirms the pinfall.

Jon McDaniel: Hunter can’t believe it.

Brian Rentfro: Hunter was screwed! This is a travesty Jon, a travesty.

Ian has his hand raised by the ref, then he goes over to Hunter and offers another handshake. Sullivan jumps him and starts wailing on him. Swindell attempts to stop him but the Viper slugs him and knocks him to the ground.

Jon McDaniel: Oh come on Sullivan! You can’t hit an official!

Brian Rentfro: Obviously he can. That bastard asked for it.

Ian fights back, and manages to get away from his opponent. Jacob Figgins runs into the ring, and promptly knees Ian in the face. The duo toss him into the corner. Figgins slips out and holds the Emperor’s arms, pinning him to the turnbuckle. Hunter connects with a Stinger splash. He picks up Ian, whips him into the ropes, and back body drops him to the floor. Figgins stomps on him while Hunter slides out.

Jon McDaniel: What are they doing now?

Brian Rentfro: I don’t know, but I can’t wait to see it.

Sullivan bends Ian over in front of him while Figgins removes the padding. Hunter picks Ian up and holds him in position for a powerbomb.

Jon McDaniel: Somebody has to stop this! They could paralyse Ian!

Brian Rentfro: Again?

Before the G.O.D. can spike powerbomb him, a man pulls Hunter back, causing him to hit the hard ground with Ian landing on his face.

Brian Rentfro: Who the hell is that guy?! Where’s security!

Jon McDaniel: He appears to be a fan who got past security.

Security finally intervenes, subduing the big man and also preventing Figgins and Sullivan from continuing their attack. Ian is helped to the back.

Jon McDaniel: Well that was an eventful segment. And it’s not over yet fans. We still have another match tonight involving these parties. Emperor Ian, subbing for Kelly Keagan, will take on Jacob Figgins!

Brian Rentfro: Well after tonight, Ian will be thinking Kelly had the right idea quitting.

Diggin' After A Story


The sound of tires on gravel permeates the speakers as the camera shows the house of one Jethro Hayes.

Bud Adams(v/o): He won't come back, he just won't.

Ralph(camera guy v/o): But you were sent to try and get him to resign?

Bud: Yes, why else would I be out here Ralph?

Ralph: I dunno, but I see you staring at his cows with a hungry look in your eyes.

Bud: Shut up, camera guys aren't to be seen or heard.

Ralph: Then don't ask me a damn question you son of a bitch.

Bud: Don't call me a son of a bitch you son of a bitch.

Ralph: That's weird.

Bud: What?

Ralph: That your mom is my mom.

The vehicle is stopped at the end of the driveway, just behind a filthy work truck, just as Jethro steps onto the front porch and shushes the loudly barking dog.

Jethro: Hush Georgia.

The dog obediently obeys, but is sure to give the strangers a long stare as they walk up. Bud walks in front of the camera, up the steps, and extends a hand to Jethro.

Bud: Jethro! How in the heck are you?!

Jethro looks at Bud, up and down, then with a WTF? Look.

Jethro: You've never been nice to me before Bud, you've never cared about me before Bud, you've never wanted anything but a story or scoop Bud, so... what the fuck Bud?

Jethro waits, Bud is a bit taken aback at Jethro's hostility; the camera guy snickers and Bud glares at him.

Bud: Jethro, we've always been close.

Jethro cuts him off.

Jethro: No the hell we haven't, I've never liked you and you always just wanted something.

Bud is speechless for a moment.

Bud: Jethro, the fact is...

Nicole walks out of the door, wiping her hands and looking first at the camera then Bud, before turning to Jethro.

Nicole: What does Bud want now?

Bud(sputtering): I... well... I... I... In ever...

Nicole: Shut it Bud, you are always wanting a story; I mean for fuck's sake you are worse than any supermarket tabloid.

Bud's jaw drops, Jethro smiles, and the camera guy laughs again; Bud glares at Ralph again.

Bud: Jethro, Nicole, fact is that we want...

Jethro shakes his head in synch with Nicole.

Jethro: I knew it.

Nicole: I did too.

Ralph(v/o): Told you.

Bud: Remember that whole not seen and not heard?

Bud: Jethro, the PWA well...

Jethro shakes his head again.

Jethro: Is alright without me, I'm back where life is fun again. Too much change needs to be done and not enough people give a damn.

He pauses.

Jethro: Though Jacob Figgins has the right idea, starting at the roots and preserving what is good and right there.

Bud: Why not come back and help him out?

Nicole shakes her head.

Jethro: Nicole and I have talked about it and well...

Bud leans forward; Jethro seems about to release some vital information.

Bud: Yesssssss?

Jethro waits.

Jethro: Sure is nice weather ain't it?

Jethro and Nicole turn and begin to walk inside.

Bud: You asshole!

Jethro: Sick'em Georgia!

Georgia launches herself at Bud, Ralph laughing hysterically as Bud races away from Georgia. Jethro turns to watch as Nicole quickly follows suit. A clicking sound is heard as Ralph locks the door to the car. Georgia is barking ferociously after Bud, just inches from biting his butt. Bud is screaming like a girl in a horror movie as he frantically rips at the locked door's handle. Everyone is laughing at Bud as he frantically tries each and every door.

Bud: Come on... someone help me! Unlock this door!

Jethro(behind camera now): I don't have the keys.

Bud: Ralph!

Ralph: ... ......

Bud: Ralph!

Ralph: .........

Bud: Ralph?!

Nicole(behind camera): Remember Bud, you told him camera guys are to not be seen or heard?

Bud finally gives up and lays on the hood, just exhausted. Georgia leaps onto the hood right beside him and growls; Bud whimpers pathetically... A yellow stream drips down the front of the car from Bud.

Ralph: Did you piss on the car?!

Bud: Shut up Ralph! Just shut the hell up!

Georgia licks Bud's cheek, everyone laughs as Bud screams and passes out.

Jacob Figgins vs Kelly Keagan

Tag Titles Stip Match #2


In the non-title match that saw the reigning PWA GB Champion taking on a Emperor Ian, who was working double duty(with a hurt face mind you), the fans got a big treat. With Storm issuing that everybody is banned from ringside, this contest promised to be a one on one contest. and this match didn't even wait for the opening bell as Ian tried to get the earlier jump on things by attacking Figgins as he was coming down the rampway. Ian made good use of the match not officially starting by punishing Figgin, using everything at ringside. Guard railing, ring steps, announce table and ring posts were used to make a dent in the Grizzly Beer Champion.

But it was Ian's showboating that lead to the opening that Figgins need to get back into into the match. And get back into the match he did with some very well time suplexes and powerbomb into the turnbuckle that damn near broke Ian's back. Figgins wastes no time as he puts the boots to Ian, making him pay for the earlier assault. Ian eats chop after chop, being able to cover up and block a few shots, but not all of them. Figgins starts working on Ian's neck. Trying to soften it up for the ending that he has in mind. But Ian refuses to make it that easy, as he starts to fight back with chops and kicks of his own. Figgins get flung into the corner and gets crushed but a explosive clothesline in the corner. Figgins staggers out and is greet by a spinebuster that look to have winded both men.

Ian is the first to get to his feet and punt kicks Jacob in the ribs, sending him rolling into the corner. Figgins tries to pull himself up with the ring ropes, but Ian nails a forward dropkick to the face that crumples him back into the corner. Ian, starting to feel the end coming, sends a few more stomps Figgins way before lifting him up and dropping him across the ring ropes with a flapjack. Figgins bounces off the ropes and onto the floor. Ian gives himself some space and is waiting for Figgins to get up. Figgins is on his knees...he is slowly spinning around towards Ian. Ian gives him the middle finger before kicking him in the midsection. Ian hooks him up for a suplex into the corner, but Figgins drops down to one knee and lands the low blow. Figgins quickly wraps Ian up...

CONSPIRACY LIES BEHIND THE GATES OF VALHALLA!!!

Figgins drops down for the 3 count...

1...

2...

3!!!!

Eric Emerson : And the winner of this match....JACOB FIGGINS!!!!

A Canadian Flew Over The DoDo's Next

The Champ & The Boss


Eli Storm is roaming the halls in his suit that probably cost thousands of dollars and a shit eating grin on his face. He fixes his tie before smelling an out pour of smoke that just so happens to be coming from his room. Panicked, he rushes over and opens the door.

Anna Mathews: Hai Eli!

The PWA World Champion waves to the latest in a series of bossman as she holds the makings of a smore over what used to be a rather swanky desk. Strangely though, she doesn’t seem to have the belt with her. Storm is at first baffled then more than a little pissed over what the fuck is happening to his beloved office as Pedro Gonzales, the Mexican equivalent of Apu Nahaspeemapetilon, bounds to his side with a boyish grin.

Pedro Gonzales: Hola, Senior Storm! Would you like a hotdog?

He only gets a small shove in response as Storm…er, storms over to Anna.

Eli Storm: What the hell are you doing?!

She just shrugs.

Anna Mathews: Meh. Ya no, the usual. Getting prepared four another match. Boostink ur ratings. Setting fire too mi shiny thing.

This last comment forces both Eli and our camera to watch as she slips her snack off of her stick, brings the stick to the fire, and bring up the melted leather and scarred up remains of the beloved title.

Anna Mathews: I kan tolerate a lotta shit. But holding a title that Cody has his mitts on iz nawt on that list. Eye want a nu one.

It's rough, but whatevs.

Eli pauses for a second. His anger is over the desk that was personally hand crafted by the former midgets who played in the Willy Wonka movie. Plus it hid his porn stash. Almost as great of a lose. But, Storm knows Anna...he knows her well enough to expect this type of behavior from her. And why you may ask? Because Storm did the same type of stuff when he was a mere roster talent. But anyway let's see how he handles this?

Eli Storm: Wow and here I was thinking you may of wanted to do this in the middle of the ring, you know...to make it more impactful. But I guess the Champ knows best. Which reminds me...why are you in my office?

Anna Mathews: Sure, it mai hav been more--*fingerquotes!*--"impactful" inn tha wring, but that's far tu obvious, doant cah fink? Besides I lyke ceeing joo get yer chest all puffy up inn person.

She grins a spazzy little grin as Pedro begins to pick up the dainty little hot dogs with a sigh on his lips.

Anna Mathews: Besides we're havink a party! An wat better plase ta have thee party dan in the bossman's place wit olive his pretty stuffs?

Storm smiles, knowing where she is trying to take this. It almost reminds him of the old days.

Eli Storm: Heh, I know this is part of your whole let’s see if we can get under the boss' skin thing. And to honest, I'm flattered...I truly am. You see the thing is, I've been there and done that. I've been the trouble maker. So unlike Robinson or the others that have been in this office, I don't mind this.

Storm grabs the dainty hot dogs from Pedro and reaches into the fridge in the corner and pulls out a pack of cheese filled ball park franks. Pedro's eyes light up as he thinks about consuming the cheesey goodness.

Eli Storm: Now here is the thing, this..all of this makes for great TV. So if you want to fuck up everything in the office, go ahead. I think you are smart enough to know that outside of my check from this place, I've got my own money, so these things can be replaced.

Storm stops and looks at the burning desk and porn stash.

Eli Storm: Some harder than others, I will admit. But I love it. This is the reason why I choose to give you the shot at the belt, because I knew the madness that comes with you holding the belt. But of course with something as great as you...there is a slight problem that has popped up.

Storm grabs a smore and starts to chow down to the surprise of Anna and Pedro.

Eli Storm: Can you guess what that is?

Anna poses like Winnie the Pooh thinking with a small brain as Pedro's shifty eyes betray his thrifty handling of the cheese franks.

Anna Mathews: Hmmm...lemmie cee. Hatred frum rednex, hatered frum tha majority ov the roster, incenerating the shiny, being linked to murderous puppets, nawt beeing serious enuff, being too cereal, bucking yer authority, trashing the PWA...

A pause.

Anna Mathews: Nope. Notta clue.

Pedro takes a giant bite of a dog while blissfully hiding in the corner.

Eli Storm: Close, close, not really, that may of gotten us a deal with The Muppets, nope, not even close...

Storm pauses for a second himself to make sure he covered everything.

Eli Storm: The issue is all the people who want to pound you out. Hold on that doesn't sound right, let me try this again. It’s the people who want to screw you...no that’s not write either. Hold on.

Storm walks over to the wall intercom.

Eli Storm: Send him in please.

The door to the office flings open and in walks former PWA star, The Kumquat Kid.

Eli Storm: If you don't mind.

Kumquat Kid: All the people who want to fuck you up, but not in that "oh, she is a hot porn star with a thing for dildo dodos" type thing but I want to beat her down and take her title type thing.

Kumquat looks at Storm.

Kumquat Kid: We good!?!

Storm nods.

Eli Storm: Checks in the mail you crazy kid.

Kumquat leaves the room, leaving Anna to think...just who the fuck was that and more importantly, what the Hell is a kumquat.

Anna Mathews: ...dat's a bad fing?

Her head tilts slightly as she forgoes the random guy masturbating with random fruit scenario and begins to ponder about all the champions she ken of before while her pet Mexican starts to swim in a sea of wieners, cheese, and buns. Given his bright neon uniform and his tendencies to manscape, we should've seen it coming.

Anna Mathews: i'm sorry. Butt I'mm afraid I just daon't see et dat way, Stormy. I fink it's aktually good for business that peeps wanna kill me and take mi title because it shows that they actually want to take charge of their careers instead of letting me oar hooever bulldoze over them. Let's face it. The world title ceen haz been stagnated with reigns that last forever and ev'ry body got complacent and boring and stuffs.

She chomps on her smore.

Anna Mathews: Now people might say that--*fingerquotes part 2!*--"playing hot potato" wif the belt ish equally damaging and to sum extent, that's write. But it asew gives everybuddy the idea that yesh, they can be wurld champion. A champion of a shithole, but still.

She shrug.

Anna Mathews: I'm glad I have competition because a champion can onlee be as motivated as thier competition. Yif day daon't try to bea at thar very best, the I in turn cannot rightfully due the sayme without turning Rampage into the Anna show featuring all the jobbers. This way, I won't get complacent, the matches'll be much more competitive, and joo git moar monies. So I doan't see the problem here.

Storm chuckles a bit, but composes himself enough to better state his problem.

Eli Storm: Oh no it's isn't the fact that everyone wants a shot. The problem is picking the best way to make that happen. BUUUUUUTTTTT...your dedication and focus has given me the perfect idea.

Storm gives Anna a giant hug. Which almost makes her throw up due to the heavy dose of Canadian Cologne.

Eli Storm: Next week, you get to pick your own destiny as you decide how the title will be defended at the next PPV. Oh My, this is going to be so fun. Now...you just sit here and continue enjoying yourself before your match. I'm going to make sure that next week you will have the best 3 option a woman of your virginal fortitude can have.

Storm starts to skipping out the door singing "I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of oz". Suddenly he runs back into the office.

Eli Storm: Since I'm in charge, that would make me the wizard wouldn't it. Yeah...I need to find a new song.

Storm jets back out the door, leaving Anna and Pedro alone in his office.

The Master of Time and Space shakes her head and smirks.

Anna Mathews: Pedro, I don’t fink we’re in Mexico anniemoar.

And upon seeing Gonzales not paying any attention, she throws pokes him with a stick. He gives out a yelp as we fade to whatever lame ass thing comes after this.

Marvin Wood vs Cody Bogard

Falls Count Anywhere Match


*DING DING DING!*

Eric Emerson: The following match is set for one fall and is a FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE bout!

'The Lonely Shepherd' by Gheorghe Zamfir begins to play from the PA system into the arena. After a few seconds, "The Consummate Professional" Marvin Wood appears from behind the curtain with a dour expression on his face. He walks to the middle of the stage area and stands there for a few seconds, to survey the audience. He then begins walking down the entrance-way. Many of the members of the audience boo, some catcall and a few cheer. He looks at no-one as he approaches the ring, but stretches his fingers a bit. He stretches three fingers on each hand, first, and then four fingers on each hand.

Eric Emerson: On his way to the ring... from Pontefract, England... standing at 6'2" and weighing in at 240 lbs.... MARVIN... WOOOOOOOOOD!!!

Marvin walks towards the ring steps, and walks up them and towards the middle of the apron, sliding his hand over the top rope as he does so. He pauses there for a few seconds, before entering the ring, right leg first and then left leg. He enters the ring with plenty of pomp and circumstance, as if he were a foot taller than he is. He then walks over to the opposite turnbuckle and waits.

The lights suddenly dim down as the opening intro to Naked Arms plays. Once the intro finishes and goes into the main theme, smoke emerges from near the entrance way.

A figure emerges from the smoke, standing while looking at the fans as he stands in the shadows. The figure is seen as strobe lights go off to reveal Cody Bogard posing at the entrance way. Cody makes his way to the ring.

All those dreams, all of my hope, all life come undone
In a world beaten and broken I can see a rising sun
Burning down, scorching the earth, nowhere left to hide
Try to stop all this destruction, find a way, turn the tide
Reveal the bond that's made
Between the light and the shade

Eric Emerson: And his opponent... from San Mateo, CA... he stands at 5'11" and weighs in at 210 lbs.... the former PWA World Heavyweight champion, CODY... BOOOOGAAAAAAAARD!!!

Cody makes his way over to the ring, springing up to the ring apron, climbing the turnbuckle and posing with his arms open in a pose.

Shining white and hot is a moon so unforgiving
The break of day will leave a scar
Nothing we belleve can protect us from tomorrow
Enjoy today from where we are

I will believe to the end
Even with my face pressed to the fire
I won't be shaken or moved
By the heat getting closer and higher

Sink or swim
Lose or win
Hold on with my naked arms

Cody jumps from the turnbuckle as he thrusts his arm into the air to a hail of cheers.

All those dreams, all of my hope, all life come undone
In a world beaten and broken I can see a rising sun
Burning down, scorching the earth, nowhere left to hide
Try to stop all this destruction, find a way, turn the tide
Reveal the bond that's made
Between the light and the shade

Cody takes his time to prepare for the match as the theme fades out. The referee for the match is Scott Swindell, notable for his fair and balanced approach to the ring. He calls for the bell and the timekeeper obliges.

*DING DING DING!*

The two men immediately charge at one another and throw fists. They exchange blows for a few moments before Bogard takes Wood down with a lariat. Wood back to his feet, and Bogard knocks him back to the ground. And once more. Wood, obviously frustrated, bails from the ring to regain his composure.

Jon McDaniel: So far, Marvin Wood's return is not going the way he wants it to.

Brian Rentfro: You're kidding me, right, McDaniel? This guy is the Nomadic Sage, the Consummate Professional. Marvin Wood is strategizing right now, just watch. He's not gonna lose to a chump like Cody Bogard.

Bogard refuses to let Wood catch his breath and follows him out to the floor. The two men begin to brawl, leading to Wood shoving Bogard against the guard rail. Audience members cheer and slap Bogard on the back. Wood with a quick knife-edge chop. The crowd obliges with hooting and hollaring, and Wood hits another knife-edge chop further egging the crowd on. Bogard staggers away, clutching at his chest. Wood follows Bogard and shoves him into the ring steps, shoulder-first.

Brian Rentfro: See? I told you, Marvin Wood is one cold, calculating competitor. Bogard doesn't even belong in the same city!

As Bogard is writhing around on the ground in pain, Wood grabs a camera cable and begins to wrap it around Bogard's neck. He yanks the cable -- and Bogard -- back against the ring steps and begins to strangle his opponent. Bogard is somehow able to power himself back up to his feet and whips Wood to the ground with a modified judo throw. Bogard props himself on the steps as he looses the cable from his neck. Wood begins to lift himself up and Bogard levels him with a soccer kick to the face. Wood crawls along the ground, cursing. Bogard follows him and continues to stomp Wood. He lifts Wood up and shoves him against the barricade before delivering a nasty clothesline that dumps Wood into the front row. The crowd cheers as Bogard follows over the railing and security has to step in to make sure that the audience doesn't interfere with the fight.

Jon McDaniel: This match is quickly spilling beyond the reaches of the crowd barriers. Cody Bogard is clearly proving that he's a handful, even to the likes of Marvin Wood.

Brian Rentfro: It's all strategy, McDaniel. Marvin Wood has got this match figured out, and he's already ten steps ahead of Bogard, you and the audience are just too stupid to understand that.

Jon McDaniel: Says the guy who can't name a wrestling move unless the boss offers him $500.

The two men fight up the stairs, exchanging blows as the fight finally spills into the concourse area. Marvin Wood gains leverage with some stiff forearm shots to Cody Bogard's face. Bogard stumbles backward and against the railing leading to the main lobby area of the arena. Some fans scream from below as Wood begins to choke Bogard, hanging him over the railing. It's maybe a 20 foot fall, but from here, it looks like he's about to go over Angel Falls.

Jon McDaniel: Oh, my God! Someone stop this!

Brian Rentfro: Do it! Dump the nerd! DUMP THE NERD!

Wood pushes Bogard over the railing! And Bogard latches on a triangle choke hold! Wood has to hold onto the railing for both of them as they both come dangerously close to plunging to their doom! Swindell does his duty and asks Wood if he wants to submit, to which Wood vehemently replies, 'help me, you idiot!' Of course, Swindell cannot, but merely repeats his question. Eventually, Wood gathers the strength to pull Bogard back from the edge of doom, and slams him down on the more local concrete floor. Bogard immediately grabs the back of his head in agony and Wood admonishes Swindell for being stupid and reckless, to which Swindell replies with a simple shrug. Wood goes back to work and picks Bogard up by the head, but Bogard quickly replies with a Shotei to the nose. Wood staggers back, surprised, and Bogard follows up with some forearm smashes of his own, sending Wood back toward the arena's bar area. The patrons at the bar collectively jump at the sudden newcomers.

Jon McDaniel: This match is crazy! Who knows where they'll wind up by the end of it!

Brian Rentfro: With any luck, in the ladies' room!

As Jon McDaniel sighs, Bogard punches Wood, sending him staggering back into the bar stools, dislodging a man from his seat. As Bogard gives chase, Wood smashes a bowl of bar pretzels against Bogard's head! Bogard collapses to the ground and groans as Wood goes for the cover.

1...

2...

Kick out! Wood begins to slam Bogard's head against the hardwood floor and security needs to stand between the fans and the fight. Still, people are quick to throw peanuts and beer at the competitors. Wood sneers at them and demands that the security guards do their job so that he can do his. As he turns his attention back to Bogard, Bogard surprises him with a belly-to-belly suplex onto the floor! Pin!

1...

2...

Kick out! Bogard is back to his feet and lifts Wood, who lands a couple of shots to Bogard's midsection before dragging him along the bar and shooting him off of the end, sending him rolling along the ground. The crowd around them cheers.

Jon McDaniel: Jeez, I can't remember the last time I saw something like that.

Brian Rentfro: Try every spaghetti western movie, ever?

Marvin Wood still on the offensive picks Bogard up, and Bogard attacks him with some strikes before pulling the wall-mounted flat-screen TV away from the wall and smashing it against Wood's head, sending circuitry and plastic shrapnel flying everywhere!

"Hey," shouts a drunken fan. "I was watching that!"

For the record, the TV was playing the very match that he could have witnessed simply by turning his head around. Despite this, Bogard foregoes punching him in the face for stupidity, and simply attempts to pin Wood.

1...

2...

Kick out! Bogard is just about ready for this to end. Bogard stalks Wood as he gets to his feet. Kick to the gut... HERO TIME! The crowd goes nuts and Bogard grabs his lower back before making the cover!

1...

2...

3-NO! KICK OUT!

Jon McDaniel: Marvin Wood may be arrogant, but by God, he's got a reason to be that way.

Brian Rentfro: Wood could have kicked out of that finisher easily! He's just trying to conserve as much energy as possible. It's all-

Jon McDaniel: Yeah, yeah. It's all strategy. We get it, Brian, you learned a new word.

Bogard is obviously frustrated and begins to pick Wood up, dragging him from the bar area to the burger bar. He tries to slam Wood's head onto the counter, but Wood blocks it and retaliates with a quick shot to the groin, dropping Bogard to his knees. Wood with a vicious kick to the back of Bogard's head, smashing his face into the marble counter. The crowd cringes collectively and Bogard crumples to the ground. Wood adjusts his tights and sneers at the dude behind the counter, who is just watching the events unfolding in front of his stand. Wood goes for the cover!

1...

2...

2.999-KICK OUT!

Wood stands up and demands that the referee learn how to count, insisting that the number that comes after two is three. He unleashes some vicious soccer kicks to Bogard's mid-section.

"Hey, man," says the burger-flipper. "Either order somethin', or get out of the way! I've gotta earn a living here."

Wood rolls his eyes and picks Bogard up to his feet. He begins to move the fight out of the way, but then throws Bogard over top of the sneeze guard, almost sending the worker into the deep fryer. Wood jumps over to the other side and the camera crew follows through the staff entrance, despite the man's objections. Wood picks Bogard up and attempts to slam his face onto the grill, but Bogard blocks it. Wood tries again, and Bogard's sweat begins to sizzle on the extremely hot surface.

Jon McDaniel: Marvin Wood is hell-bent on defeating Cody Bogard!

Brian Rentfro: What do you expect, McDaniel? Would you want to lose? And to Cody Bogard?

Jon McDaniel: There's no shame in losing to any of the competitors in the PWA. These men and women are the apex of professional wrestling.

Brian Rentfro: Oh? What about Scottie Snow?

Jon McDaniel: For the record, Scottie Snow held the PWA TV title for 21 days, and has won the World Heavyweight title.

Brian Rentfro: And we wonder why the roster morale has been low....

While all of this bickering is going on, Bogard is able to stomp on Wood's foot, doubling him over in pain and opening a huge window for Bogard to land a devestating series of knees to Wood's face, sending him to the greasy floor. Bogard reaches into the freezer and pulls out a tray. As Marvin begins to get to one knee, Bogard slams the tray -- complete with still-frozen patties -- against Wood's head, sending him sprawling to the floor. Bogard holds the tray above his head and poses for the crowd, who cheer his efforts.

Jon McDaniel: There's that burning spirit that everyone talks about when they speak of Cody Bogard. Like him or not, this kid has got a passion for this business that is unequivocal.

Brian Rentfro: You're just saying that because the fans are cheering him. You're biased, McDaniel!

Bogard drags Marvin Wood out from behind the counter. Bogard lifts Wood to his feet, and Wood swiftly breaks the grip and boxes Bogard's ear. Bogard drops to one knee and grabs his ears. Wood is quick to capitalize and lock in a sleeper hold. The referee asks if Bogard wants to submit, but he declines vehemently, trying to rip Wood's arms away the whole time. Bogard is able to fight his way back to his feet with the help of the crowd, who encourage him to fight back. Wood is quick to kill the momentum, though. He kicks Bogard's leg out from under him and sets him up for the Octopus Stretch! Again, the referee asks if Bogard wants to quit, and again, Bogard screams 'no.' After a few moments, Bogard simply swings his body at a stone pillar, crushing Wood's back. Wood refuses to give up the hold, but Bogard slams him into the pillar again, forcing Wood to break the hold. Both men fall to the ground and attempt to regain their composure.

Jon McDaniel: I can't tell how this match is going to end. There are so many possibilities!

Brian Rentfro: Uh, there are two. Someone gives up, or someone gets pinned. Pick one, there's a 50-50 chance you'll be right. It's just like figuring out if a girl enjoys anal.

Jon McDaniel sighs and both men stand up and begin to trade blows again.

Wood gets the upper hand and lands a devestating uppercut that sends Cody Bogard tumbling backwards and against the wall next to the ladies' room. Bogard slumps down against the wall and Wood turns around, pointing to his head and boasting about being the most intelligent wrestler in the business today. He turns around and HERO TIME! HERO TIME!! Cover!

1...

2...

3!!!

*DING DING DING!*

Eric Emerson: The winner of this match... CODY BOOOOOGAAAAARD!!!

Both men are in intense amounts of pain, but Cody Bogard manages to pull himself up and -- with tightly closed eyes -- screams victoriously to the crowd and holds his fingers in the sign of a "V" for victory. The crowd reply with cheers and the referee raises his hand.

Anna Matthews vs Bodie Vera Cruz

Main Event


Eric Emerson: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS YOUR MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENING. THIS MATCH IS SET FOR ONE FALL WITH A ONE HOUR TIME LIMIT

Brian Rentfro: Uh, I don't think that Mithta Americana, if you weel, can go one hour, except with a buffet, but I'd like to go an hour with Cindy Lou.

Jon McDaniel: I'll make sure to let him know this the next time I see him.

“Fanfare for the Common Man” begins to play as the arena goes dark. At the 41 second mark of the song, the sound of a cowbell is heard as “The Common Man Boogie” begins to play indoor fireworks go off and red, white, and blue.

spotlights criss- cross the arena.
He's just a common working hard with his hands
He's just a common man working hard for the man
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm
(American Dream)
If you are black or white
Redneck funky that's alright
Blue eyed with a lot of soul
Common man has got his goal.
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm
(American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
(American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
A Dream , A Dream , A Dream
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)

Mr. Americana comes out wearing his trademark faded denim jeans and cowboy boots. His 'belly' is covered by a tie dye t-shirt from The Shed BBQ and Blues Joint, which is worn under a sleeveless flannel shirt. A bandanna made from another tie dye t-shirt is wrapped around Mr. A's head.Bodie is juking and jiving his way to the ring, his prosthetic belly jiggling as he bounces around, high fivng the fans. He is followed by his 'special friend,' Cindy Lou Jenkins, who comes out wearing Daisy Dukes, cowboy boots, and a 'Nice Rack' t-shirt from the aforementioned BBQ restaurant.

Brian Rentfro: Finally, truth in advertising!

Jon McDaniel: I'll say...uh...I mean, this is going to be a great match.

Brian Rentfro: Jon! I'm shocked.

Jon McDaniel: A rematch in tonight's main event.

Brian Rentfro: No it's not.

Jon McDaniel: Yes...it is. Anna vs Bodie. Remember at the Agression, I mean Rob Robinson Arena. Bodie best Anna. Anna cut Bodie. Bodie lost his mind.

Brian Rentfro: I remember that, but this is different. This is Mithta Americana, if you weel.

Jon McDaniel: It's the same guy.

Brian Rentfro: No it's not.

Jon McDaniel; YES it is

Brian Rentfro: Doctor Who?

Jon McDaniel: WHAT?!?

Brian Rentfro: Exactly.

A ring attendant hands him an American flag, which he takes into the ring with him. He climbs the middle rope, waving the flag to the ovation of the fans and more fireworks. He goes to each corner, repeating the flag waving. He then hands the flag back to the attendant, and returns to his juking and jiving.

Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
(American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
A Dream , A Dream , A Dream
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)
Hey He's Amerrrrrrrrrrriiccann Dreammm (American Dream)

Eric Emerson: HE HAILS FROM AUSTIN, TEXAS! HE WEIGHS IN AT 302 POUNDS! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS THE DREAM OF AMERICANS, THE HERO OF THE COMMON MAN…THIS IS MR. AMERICANA!

Mr. Americana steps to the center of the ring, raises his hands in the air, then backs into his corner, leaning against the turnbuckles, waiting for his opponent.

The pandemonium that normally fills a wrestling crowd turns into a feeling of shock as a sudden gust of wind forces people to hold tighter to their signs and flags of a certain color to flutter.

One, two, three, four…

Drum. Beats. The beginning to ”Never the Best” is met with the fan’s enthusiasm and darkness. Some multicolored swirls slowly cover the ramp while the entrance curtains have a spotlight focus on them. Just enough to see the first glimpse of Anna Mathews. It lasts for a split second as she flickers out just as quick. The tron barrages us with her greatest hits.

Eric Emerson: INTRODUCING... FROM THE LAND JUST TO THE LEFT OF PARTS UNKNOWN….
Never the best, never the best
Straight to the top, top of the charts
Drag at the top, cream of the flop
Never the best, chasing…chasing the best

In your brain, nobody should come along
In your heart, everyone fakes to be strong
In your soul, you’ll probably take this all wrong in your songs.

The house lights come back on with no sign of her. Cameramen scan all around. Oh, where could she be?

Chasing the best
Licking your bones
Finger trap on
Now you’re, now you’re back!

Right on cue, Anna abruptly teleports into the center of the ring much to the bafflement of television viewers and the anger of management. Everybody else seems to go apeshit over it though. She bounces off the ropes like a pinball, causing the referee to frantically hop out of the ring in the fear of being bowled over by this lunatic. She puts on the brakes in the middle of the ring and starts to spread her arms out slowly embracing tha peepoles!

Eric Emerson: SHE IS YOUR REIGNING AND DEFENDING PWA WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION…

I give you a little piece of my heart
I give you a little piece of my heart
I give you a little piece of my...HEART!

A backflip, tons of pyro, and four banners of puppets galore on each side complete this cycle as the crowd cheers and the music fades.

Eric Emerson: ANNA MATHEWS!!!!!

Brian Rentfro: Anna Mathews and Cindy Lou Jenkins? I envy Mithta Americana?

Jon McDaniel:Why?

Brian Rentfro: Cause he's gonna get all sweaty with both of these women tonight. Not at the same time, but...oooh.

Jon McDaniel: You're thinkin about Anna and Cindy aren't you?

Brian Rentfro: And you're not?

Jon McDaniel: Well, I must say that...I mean... GET YOUR MIND ON THE MATCH, RENTFRO!

DING! DING!

Anna and Mr. Americana circle each other as the crowd chants USA! USA! USA!

Jon McDaniel: This crowd is pro-Americana tonight. Odd to hear the USA chants tonight though.

Brian Rentfro: Why is it odd?

Jon McDaniel: Well, Anna isn't exactly an angry foreigner.

Brian Rentfro: She transcends time and space! You can't get much more foreign than that!

Jon McDaniel: Point made.

Anna and Mr. A lock up, and Americana grabs a headlock. Anna whips him into the ropes. Mr. A takes her down with a shoulderblock. Americana begins to strut, juke, and jive around the ring. Anna gets back to her feet. As they go to lock up again, Anna kicks Mr. A in the 'belly,' doubling him over. A kick to the face sends him to the mat.

Jon McDaniel: Anna goes for a quick cover..

1...

2...

and NOOO! Kickout by 'Hero of the Common Man.'

Mr. A is quickly back to his feet, wagging a finger at the Champ.

Anna explodes on Mr. A with The Big Ball of Violence.

As Anna looks on smiling, Mr. Americanna stands on spaghetti legs for about 2 seconds, then falls face first to the mat.

Jon McDaniel: And the champ is on fire. Mr. Americana is in big trouble!

Brian Rentfro: She just condensed about 10 minutes of asswhippin into 15 seconds!

Anna pulls a now bloody Mr. A up to his feet. The PWA Champ goes for the Boomerfly Kick, but Americana ducks and peppers Anna with a succession of left jabs, followed by a quick dance and a big elbow smash.

Jon McDaniel: Now the Champ's in trouble. She's on wobbly legs.

Brian Rentfro: But they're beautiful legs, right, Jon.

Jon McDaniel: You're right, Brian. Just look at...And it looks like Mr. A is getting ready to...

Brian Rentfro: Thlam that thucka down! And that thucka would be the World Champ!

Mr. A does indeed slam Anna to the mat. He runs back into the corner. As he begins to come out of the corner to drop the big elbow...

'Judith' by A Perfect Circle begins to play as Hunter Sullivan walks down the rampway. Mr. stands in the ring, fists at the ready, challenging Sullivan to step in. He doesn't see Jacob Figgins slide into the ring behind him, chair in hand.

The Grizzly Beer Champion smashes Mr. A in the back with the chair, dropping him instantly. Sullivan joins in and the beatdown kicks into high gear. Anna is now to her feet, but decides to back into a neutral corner, content to watch the beating. Cindy Lou Jenkins runs to the back

Jon McDaniel: Mr. Americana is getting decimated! He needs some help out here!

"Revolution is my Name" by Pantera begins to play as Duff Cote D'Ivoire runs to the ring to assist Mr. Americana.

Brian Rentfro: Heeeeerrrrre's DUFF!

Duff pairs off with Hunter as Mr. A begins a comeback on Jacob.

Anna still stands in the corner, amused at the brawl going on across the ring from her.

"The Imperial March" by John Williams plays as Emperor Ian makes his way into the fray.

Jon McDaniel: This has completely broken down!
Brian Rentfro: No it hasn't!

Anna Mathews is still leaning against the turnbuckles. She looks to her left, then her right. A sly grin crosses her face, then...

Le shrug

Anna runs across the ring and hits the Boomerfly kick on Emperor Ian, knocking him out of the ring onto the floor.

Brian Rentfro: NOW, it has completely broken down!

She curtsies to the cheering crowd, grabs her shiny and begins to walk to the back. She stops and turns back to look at the mayhem in the ring. She can't help but laugh.

Her laughter is cut short as Shawn O'Reilly steps through the curtain with a chair. He brings it across Anna's back, dropping her to the floor. He reaches down and takes the PWA title in his hand. He takes a long hard look at the belt, holds it above his head, before throwing it onto Anna's prostrate body. The camera picks up O'Reilly's parting words as looks into the camera.

'How's that for an impact, Storm?'

Brian Rentfro: WHAT THE HELL!?!

Jon McDaniel: WE'RE OUT OF TIME! WE'LL TRY TO SORT THIS OUT NEXT WEEK!