Post by Danny on Apr 3, 2023 4:11:31 GMT -6
And now UWF presents...
As the logo is seen, things go live to the inside of the arena as pyrotechnics go off from the stage and the camera pans around to get a shot of the fans from all around the world gathered for Wrestlemania XII! The camera pans over to the commentary team where Corey Graves, Mauro Ranallo, and Tom Phillips are standing by.
Mauro Ranallo: Hello and welcome to the 11th annual Wrestlemania! I'm Mauro Ranallo here with my broadcast partners Tom Phillips and former International Champion Corey Graves!
Corey Graves: You know, I don't think people remember that the International Championship was our World title. Maybe you should introduce me and former World Champion.
Tom Phillips: Maybe another time because tonight we have ourselves a huge match card. Every piece of gold is on the line tonight as well as a career and well maybe a few careers if some people aren't careful.
Mauro Ranallo:It's the one night of the year where everyone wants to leave their mark so lets not waste any more time and get down to the first match of the evening!
Tony Chimel: ”THE FOLLOWING CONTEST IS A TRIPLE THREAT MATCH, SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL-”
“ONE FALL!”
Tony Chimel: “AND IT IS FOR THE UWF INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP!!! INTRODUCING THE CHALLENGERS, FIRST…”
I’M BETTER THAN YOU
AND YOU KNOW IT!
As the camera pans up the entrance ramp, the fans already pre-conditioned to boo the ever-loving crap out of the first challenger just from his opening theme, what would follow initially would not be the challenger himself, but the rolling out of a red carpet, stretching its way down the entire ramp. Only once it has made it down to the ringside area would the fans get their first glimpse of Maxwell Jacob Friedman, swaggering out of the entranceway, with Sir William Regal standing by his side.
Tony Chimel: ”Making his way to the ring, first…being accompanied to the ring by Sir William Regal, from Plainview, Long Island, New York, weighing in at 216 lbs…he is better than you, and you know it, MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN, M…J…F!!!!!”
Strolling down the ramp, Maxwell would be seen clearly disregarding the fans as they give their usual tidal wave of jeers, but with it tonight, comes something special. Something from the bottom of each and every one of their hearts, straight to the first of two challengers for the Intercontinental Championship tonight:
FUCK YOU MAX-WELL
FUCK YOU REGAL
FUCK YOU MAX-WELL
FUCK YOU REGAL
FUCK YOU MAX-WELL
FUCK YOU REGAL
Two chants, perfectly balanced in timing, in rhythm, in allowing one another to breathe so the other can have the spotlight. Perfectly balanced hatred, just as it should be for these two men - one a life-long villain who has returned to his roots, the other a prodigal son who believes himself to be deserving of the championship without even competing.
Yet these chants go ignored, Maxwell paying no mind to the filthy peasants behind the guardrail. And as Sir William Regal opens the ropes once more for MJF, he takes each steel step in stride, before entering HIS ring, and dropping to his knees in a flexing pose, giving the fans yet another show of their lifetime, before turning his attention towards the ramp…
Tony Chimel: ”AND HIS OPPONENTS…”
Away from the glitz and glamour of the stadium, a jet black helicopter is seen taking off from a nearby air field.
The ground camera follows closely as it rises into the air before making the transition to another camera already in the sky in order to follow the copteer on it’s journey. Within moments the glowing lights of the host city come into frame, producing quite a spectacular sight as the copter flies over it all. As it begins to slow down, the far camera turns and the familiar shape of the stadium appears, with the sound of the sell out crowd picking up as they realize that the copter is now flying directly overhead. As it hovers high in the sky for a few moments, another camera positioned inside the stadium looks up at the copter as it begins to turn, and in doing so revealing a painted on portrait of Danhausen with the words “Chopperhausen” written next to it.
Suddenly the lights begin to darken and flicker…
Another huge pop fills the stadium as the music begins to play and the camera looking up catches the helicopter door opening to reveal Danhausen positioned inside. The very nice, very evil one cracks a smile, albeit nervously as he perches himself on the edge of the copter. A sense of shock seems to take over some sections of the crowd over what they think is about to happen, as Danhausen gives a quick hand salute to the copter pilot before tumbling out the side into the air. Thankfully he’s not tumbling for long however as a large white parachute opens, with a larger version of Danhausen’s eyes, nose and mouth also visible on it as he descends and begins to do a loop around the oval seating arrangement in the stadium. Cheers ring out in awe of Danhausen’s unorthodox and spectacular entrance ahead of the Intercontinental title triple threat match. With the parachute descending closer to the ground now, Danhausen steers it towards the Wrestlemania stage where he manages to land on his feet before unclipping himself and basks in another huge pop and applause for managing to successfully enter the stadium unharmed.
Tony Chimel: From Someplace Far Away. Claiming to stand 6 feet, 7 inches tall and weighing over 300lbs. He is Very Nice, Very Evil, Danhausen!!
As Danhausen begins to walk down the long ramp, he comes across a large sack with the letter D written on it. After taking a quick look inside and checking that everything is all in order, Danhausen picks up the sack and as he continues to head down the ramp, he puts his hand into the sack and brandishes a plush Danhausen toy that can usually be found on UWFShop.com and throws it into the crowd for a lucky fanhausen to get their hands on. With a whole sack full of these in his possession, Danhausen continues to repeat this kind gesture for more lucky attendees, taking in the spectacle of the occasion whilst doing so. As the contents of the sack begin to reduce, Danhausen throws the last toy into the crowd before he drops the sack and climbs up the steel steps to enter the ring. With the music still playing, Danhausen takes the time to climb all four turnbuckles and perform his signatory cursing pose to the joy of almost all in attendance. After doing so for the fourth and final time, Danhausen drops back down to the mat as the music fades out and he begins to psych himself up for the challenge that lies ahead.
Tony Chimel: ”AND INTRODUCING...THE CHAMPION…”
We’ve had red carpets. We’ve had helicopters. Now, though? There’s none of that shit. There’s no fancy light shows, no pyrotechnics, no big budget entrances, there’s none of that bullshit now! All there is, is the marching of one Mad King, of one man who is clinging onto that UWF Intercontinental Championship, knowing that tonight might just be the last night he ever holds onto that title.
Tony Chimel: ”From Yonkers, New York, weighing in at 240 lbs, he is the current UWF Intercontinental Champion…Eddie Kingston!”
There is a sense of determination filling the air as Kingston gets to ringside. Circling the ring, circling the last hurdle between this and the bell sounding off, Eddie takes stock of the situation. Two opponents in the ring, one out of it, and only one of him. The numbers are putting him at a disadvantage…and that is just how the Mad King likes it to be. Rolling into the ring, Kingston holds the IC Title in his hands for a moment…but in that moment, Maxwell Jacob Friedman looks to snag the spotlight once more. Approaching Eddie to talk shit, he gets perhaps two words in, before-
BANG!
DING DING DING
Out of the gate, there is no punches pulled - only a Spinning Backfist directly to the skull of Maxwell Jacob Friedman, one which leaves him looking up at the lights, his eyes glazed over.
Tom Phillips: ”AND RIGHT OUT OF THE GATE, A BACKFIST TO MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN, AND MIGHT I SAY, WELL DESERVED!”
Mauro Ranallo: ”Maxwell, in the immortal words of Smokey, YOU GOT KNOCKED THE EFF OUT!”
While Tom and Mauro get to share their jubilance over Eddie Kingston’s one-hit wonder, as MJF is rolled to the outside by Sir William Regal’s assistance…that still leaves the reminder that this is a triple threat match. As Kingston looks up from the mat, his glare falls onto the former champion, who at first looks to raise his arms for a potential curse to be launched…but before it can even be shot off, Kingston is there, grabbing at the hand, and tightening his grip around it to try and crush the bones inside of it. Wincing in pain, Danhausen struggles for a few moments to break the grip, until an instinctual response takes over: using his free hand, Danhausen pokes Eddie right in the eyes, giving him some classic Three Stooges offense that works like a charm!
With Eddie recoiling, Danhausen has his hand freed from the grasp of the Mad King, but there’s no time to be had for cursing! Instead, he rushes towards Eddie, and launches himself into a European Uppercut right to the jaw! Despite the impact of it, Eddie only staggers back rather than fall, but it still provides enough time for Danhausen to continue his fight from beneath, launching into a second uppercut that results in Eddie getting tangled up in the ropes. With Kingston stunned, Danhausen finds Kingston’s predicament for himself, and bounces off the opposite ropes, before connecting with a Shotgun Dropkick to the chest that sends Eddie rebounding off the ropes and falling face-first to the mat. Clutching at his jaw, Kingston makes himself look up just in time for a Basement Dropkick to follow up!
Tom Phillips: ”Look at Danhausen right now! Clearly having to fight from beneath against the champion, but it’s working!”
Corey Graves: ”Yeah, but it’s just a bunch of strikes, Tom. A bunch of blows that Eddie Kingston has taken before, and that Eddie Kingston has thrown back at people before. I’m just waiting for the well-deserved receipts…”
With Danhausen rolling on offense, he tries to keep up the pace, watching as Kingston struggles to his feet only to deliver a harsh kick right across the chest of the IC Champion…but this just looks to wake him up, as Eddie fires up to his feet, unbeknownst to the opposition, who bounces off the ropes, only to get absolutely BLASTED with a Lariat!
Corey Graves: ”And there it is, folks! A hit hard enough to knock the Donovan back into him!”
With that sickening Lariat, Kingston looks down at Danhausen for a moment, but unlike some others, he doesn’t decide to go for a cover. Instead, he brings Danhausen up to his knees, letting his gaze fall down upon his face, before letting a smile form on his face as he slaps the taste out of the challenger’s mouth. Holding nothing back, Eddie continuously brings Danhausen up to his knees, only to slap him back down to the mat, each time hitting harder and harder, making it all the more difficult for Danhausen to keep on the basis that Kingston gives him.
After one or two more slaps, however, Eddie wouldn’t be content in letting Danhausen get off this easy. Instead, the verbal beatings begin as the physical ones continue on, with the Mad King’s voice resonating throughout the arena.
”GET UP! GET UP! COME ON, HIT ME! GET OFF YOUR ASS AND HIT ME!”
With this call made, Kingston would give another debilitating slap across the mouth…but this time, the challenger wouldn’t fall over. They would stay firmly planted on their knees, and Eddie would smirk at this. Another slap given, and Danhausen would begin to rise rather than fall, taking the second blow in stride. Eddie, however, isn’t one for fun and games, so rather than another slap, he simply chucks a forearm into the face of Danhausen, nearly knocking his second challenger out the same way he did the first one. With an arm raised to the sky, Eddie would bounce off the ropes, having called for that Stan Hansen-esque Lariat…but it connects with nothing but air, as Danhausen ducks and slips behind Eddie, latching his arms around the waist…but only getting that far, before Kingston sends an elbow to the jaw, forcing Danhausen to stumble backwards.
Again, Kingston calls for a rushing attack, his arm to the sky…but when he charges, his knee is raised instead, an attempt at a fake out for a Kitchen Sink, but it is he who gets faked out, as Danhausen ducks behind once more, and Eddie’s knee makes contact with the middle rope! Stumbling back from the rope’s resistance, it is right into the grip of Danhausen, who manages to fall backwards this time and send Eddie spiking down onto his head and neck with a German Suplex!
The time for celebrations is cut short, though, with Danhausen being blindsided from behind, and sent tumbling to the outside of the ring by one Maxwell Jacob Friedman, who clutches at his jaw before turning his ire towards the Mad King. Seeing his opposition is already down, MJF does what he does best, and kicks the man while he’s there.
Corey Graves: ”And there is the advantage of this being a triple threat match! Maxwell Jacob Friedman got to wait on the outside and now is picking the perfect time to strike!”
Tom Phillips: ”Got to wait outside? You mean he had to have William Regal fetch him smelling salts after he got his clock cleaned by Eddie Kingston!”
Corey Graves: ”I meant what I said, Tom! You may have been paying more attention to those inside of the ring, but I, being a professional, was watching MJF get to his feet and wait for the right moment, and now that moment has come, Tom!”
With a flurry of stomps being delivered to the midsection and back of Eddie Kingston, MJF would proceed to drop to his knees to deliver some vicious strikes to the forehead, holding nothing back with each blow looking stiffer than the last. Laying Eddie out, MJF would stand up with a grin on his face, flexing for the fans while Eddie pulls himself to his knees. As MJF turns back around though, he would see Eddie on his knees, and not much more after that, as Eddie takes a play from Danhausen’s playbook, and reaches up to poke MJF directly in the eyes!
With MJF now recoiling, Eddie would be back to his feet, and rush into Maxwell with his own strikes, pummeling down with hammer fists onto the face of Friedman, trying to break his guard, but only managing to bring him into the corner. Trapped between Eddie and the buckle, MJF would try his own hand at poking the eyes of Eddie to get through this mess, but it’s a classic case of “fool me once, shame on you” as Eddie puts up a hand to block the poke, and then uses the same hand for a knife edge chop across the chest of the challenger!
With one chop echoing out, soon another would come, and then a third, a fourth, a fifth, sixth, seventh…on and on as Eddie goes into those Strong Style-influenced Machine Gun Chops, lighting up the chest of MJF with each and every one landing flush! Eventually, just as the chops seem to be slowing down, MJF not even trying to get out of the corner due to fatigue, Eddie would raise his hand to the air, looking for one more…but rather than delivering a chop, he would watch as MJF ducks, pulls his head back up, and only THEN does he give a straight jab to the jaw, keeping MJF in this stunlock long enough for him to stumble out into the grip of the Mad King, who chucks him overhead with a Belly-to-Belly Suplex!
As MJF gets sent crashing to the mat off the suplex, Kingston would look to continue on the offensive, but gets stopped by an abrupt shot to the back of the head by Danhausen, who has scraped himself up back into the fray! Turning around, Eddie is met with another European Uppercut to the jaw, sending him backwards, but there’s nothing stunning him this go-around, as he fires off with a Forearm Strike to the jaw! Not allowing himself to be knocked down, Danhausen continues with a second uppercut, with Eddie responding in kind by delivering another forearm, and soon enough we have a proper strike battle! Or, at least, we would, until MJF runs in and shoves Kingston from behind, causing skull to meet skull as he and Danhausen clash, bringing Eddie recoiling back into a school boy rollup from Maxwell!
...ONE!
...TWO!
NO!
Eddie kicks out of what, somehow, is only the first pin attempt of the match, but he is still too slow for MJF’s standards, as a forearm catches him on the way up. Kingston, trying to fire himself up, delivers his own forearm, but is then met by Danhausen re-entering the picture, firing off a European Uppercut! MJF, not looking to be outdone, gives his own Forearm Strike to Danhausen, with Kingston reciprocating to MJF…and now it is a THREE-WAY STRIKE BATTLE~!
Mauro Ranallo: ”Look at this, folks! Look. At. THIS! Neither of these three men are budging an inch! Each uppercut, each forearm, they’re all landing flush, yet none of these warriors are backing down!”
Back, forth, and back again these men go, each blow landing just as hard as Mauro had called. They may stagger back, and they may be losing speed, but there’s no lack of toughness on display…only a lack of sportsmanship, as MJF opts to, ONCE AGAIN, take the low road, grasping as Kingston first and raking his eyes, before doing the same to Danhausen! With the both of them stunned, MJF looks with a self-satisfied grin at his handiwork…only to be met with an eye rake from Kingston, and then one from Danhausen! With both men going after the eyes, MJF is in double the pain…and this only continues as he turns right into an Eddie Kingston forearm strike…and then into an uppercut from Danhausen!
Forearm, Uppercut, Forearm, Uppercut, Forearm, Uppercut, Forearm, Uppercut, Forearm, Uppercut, MJF is made to bounce between the two men like one of those wobbly inflatable punching bags, taking his licks for trying to be smart in a wrestling ring, until finally, Danhausen changes up first, bouncing off the ropes and connecting flush across the chest with a Shotgun Dropkick that launches MJF backwards into the ropes, forcing him to rebound into Kingston’s grasp, before he falls backwards, tossing MJF with an Akiyama-level Exploder Suplex!
As Eddie sits up though, Danhausen is already running the ropes, and he strikes with a Penalty Kick across the chest, forcing him to rebound off the mat. Rolling to his feet, Kingston grimaces as he sees Danhausen approaching, and goes for a wild swing, but Danhausen ducks! A second attempt is made, and the same result happens, only for Danhausen to launch into another Shotgun Dropkick! Taking the twin bullets to the chest, Kingston perseveres, remaining on his feet while Danhausen scurries to a vertical basis in the corner, resulting in Eddie charging…only for a massive knee strike to be waiting for him, catching him in the jaw! Staying on the middle rope, Danhausen pulls himself ALL THE WAY to the top, waits for Eddie to turn…and flies off with a Missile Dropkick, catching Eddie right in the head! With Eddie down, Danhausen scrambles, barely catching him before he manages to get out of the ring, rolls him closer to center, and hooks the leg!
...ONE!
...TWO!
NO!
Two point five for Danhausen, just not enough for a three, as Kingston has his arm hanging in the air for a moment, his shoulder firmly off of the mat.
Tom Phillips: ”And Eddie Kingston barely, BARELY survives that onslaught from the former champion!”
Mauro Ranallo: ”Eddie is a fighter, Tom, through and through. Whether it be in the ring, on the streets, wherever he may be, Eddie Kingston is one tough man, and it is going to take a lot more than what Danhausen just threw at him to keep him down for the count of three!”
As Eddie’s arm finally falls limp to the mat, Danhausen remains breathing heavily for a moment, the flurry having taken a lot out of him. Even their face paint has begun to drip - not horribly so, but he is showing his own battle scars. Still, though, these wounds aren’t going to hold Danhausen down, as he gets up to his feet and stares down at the champion…only for him to be met with a sledge to the back, dropping him to the mat! With Maxwell back in action, he doesn’t leave any time for posing this time, not letting his moment be stripped away from him, kicking Danhausen square in the ribs to send him out of the ring before taking hold of Kingston and chucking him out to the apron! Holding onto him to ensure he remains there, Kingston’s torso is brought between the top and middle ropes, MJF gets their head between his legs, leaps up using the top rope, and spikes Kingston’s head down HARD on the mat with an Apron Piledriver!
Corey Graves: ”Heat Seeker! Heat Seeker from MJF! This could be it! The pivotal moment that Maxwell has been waiting for is here, we could have a new champion!”
Pulling Eddie back into the ring, MJF ensures no rope break can occur as he hooks both legs for the cover…
.....ONE!
.....TWO!
.....NO!
TWO POINT NINE. Maxwell can argue with the referee all he wants, but no matter how many times it is replayed, no matter how many times he speaks out against it, the fact of the matter is that Eddie Kingston, be it from fighting spirit or pure survivalistic instinct, kicked out before the three! Forced to face this reality, MJF pounds the mat in frustration for a few seconds…until it hits him. He’s not facing this reality alone. And so, with a smile, he turns to the outside, and calls for Sir William Regal’s assistance in this hour of need.
Tom Phillips: ”And now look at this! MJF, as if he couldn’t go any lower, is now having William Regal HELP HIM in this triple threat match!”
Corey Graves: ”No DQ in a triple threat, Tom! Love it or hate it, this is perfectly legal, and I personally love it!”
Walking up the steel steps, Regal would procure the brass knuckles from his suit jacket, looking over at Maxwell with a smile…but before the knucks can be handed off from mentor to protege, there remains one piece of business to take care of. Turning his back to Regal for a moment, telling him he has to take care of some trash, he heads off to the corner, where one Danhausen has retreated, huddled near the bottom turnbuckle…
But as he approaches, he is taken aback as TEETH go flying into his face, blinding him momentarily, and allowing for Danhausen to strike right in the family jewels!
Mauro Ranallo: ”NO DISQUALIFICATIONS INDEED, COREY, BECAUSE DANHAUSEN JUST CAUGHT MJF RIGHT IN HIS TRUST FUND!”
With MJF going down HARD, clutching down below all the while, Danhausen pulls himself to his feet, an angered expression on his face, and so he turns to one man and one man only…
And as he stares down this menace, Danhausen feels himself fill with determination, so he lets his arm raise…
AND FIRES OFF A CURSE, THE FIRST OF THE ENTIRE MATCH…
AND IT LANDS RIGHT ONTO ONE SIR WILLIAM REGAL!
At first, it seems as though nothing is going to happen, with Regal looking all too confused at the ongoings, before opting to take care of the man who just hit MJF where it counts, slipping on the brass knuckles and entering the ring…
But once he steps through the boundaries of the ropes, Sir William Regal damn near slips just getting inside, and starts to convulse wildly! He is barely remaining on his feet as he slips and slides around the ring, stumbling and bouncing from pillar to post, trying desperately to use the ropes to steady himself. In the process of this, though, Regal finds his own grip slipping, and so he drops to the mat, forced to retreat from the ring…but along the way, he finds he has lost a rather crucial passenger - the brass knuckles have been left behind!
Satisfied with his success in the arcane arts, Danhausen would look back towards the center of the ring, only to find the rather shiny pair of knucks left behind…and a desperate Maxwell Jacob Friedman crawling his way towards them. With a scowl of his own, Danhausen strides right onto the knucks, his foot planted on the accessory, with Friedman just inches from the weapon of his mentor…and now being forced to look upwards at his opposition, a small smile appears on MJF’s face as he hastily backs off, seemingly begging off from Danhausen, but the former champion is having none of it!
Each step closer sends Maxwell scurrying backwards on his knees like a scalded dog, until his back meets the turnbuckle, and now Danhausen is the one looming over him! With a look behind him, Maxwell doesn’t have a way out of this one from the back, and in front of him is a rather ticked off foe. So, with no other option, he takes a look upwards, and hocks a big one right into the face of Danhausen, coating his face not just with the remnants of paint, but with his own spit as well.
Corey Graves: ”Look at the defiance from Maxwell Jacob Friedman! Fighting down to his last breath!”
Tom Phillips: ”Yeah, and by using every disgusting tactic possible!”
With Danhausen cleaning off the spit from his face, he would wipe it away using the ropes…and turn away from MJF, giving him a momentary reprieve. Perhaps now could be the time for MJF to make a daring escape? He stands up, looking to sneak his way either out of the ring or to the brass knuckles, even…but then Danhausen comes flying back in with a ROARING European Uppercut that rocks MJF, before pulling him into the center of the ring, and hoisting him up on his shoulders…
Tom Phillips: ”Guys, this could be it! THIS COULD BE IT, IF HE CAN HIT IT…”
With MJF up in the Fireman’s Carry position, Danhausen lets out a battle cry…but MJF slips out of the back! No elbows necessary, Danhausen just doesn’t have the grip strength, but Maxwell does, as he hooks the arm around Danhausen’s neck, cranking him back into a reverse DDT position…but Danhausen raises a knee and connects with Friedman’s skull! Stunning him, Danhausen flips himself around, hooking his own arm around MJF’s neck, before cranking him upwards, and spiking him down face-first with the Goodnighthausen!
Tom Phillips: ”GOODNIGHTHAUSEN, MJF! THIS IS IT! DANHAUSEN IS ABOUT TO BECOME A TWO-TIME INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION!”
Barely having the strength, Danhausen rolls MJF over, and hooks the leg…
.....ONE!
.....TWO!
.....THREE-
EDDIE KINGSTON MAKES THE SAVE AT THE LAST POSSIBLE MOMENT!
Mauro Ranallo: ”KINGSTON WITH THE SAVE! THE CHAMPION SAVES HIS OWN TITLE REIGN, AND NOT A MOMENT TOO SOON!”
MJF is laid out, Danhausen is breathing heavily…both men are showing their own battle scars right now, but Kingston? Kingston is the first of these three men to have a physical scar emerge, as the top of his head is now sliced open, having perhaps clipped something bad on the Heat Seeker, as that viscous red liquid trickles down, giving the match some proper color.
With a staredown to rival Shiozaki/Fujita, Kingston drags himself to his feet, forehead-to-forehead with Danhausen…and with Maxwell out of the picture, we are back to square one - current champion and former champion, Mad King and mad lad, Eddie Kingston and Danhausen…and these two start. Throwing. Bombs.
Mauro Ranallo: ”HERE! WE! GO!”
Forearms and Uppercuts. Those are what have been exchanged by these two men all match, and those are what’s being exchanged now, as the speed and stamina of both men have diminished considerably, yet they still put their all into what they’ve got left. Each blow leaves an impact, each blow sends sweat, and blood in the case of Eddie Kingston, flying off of them, each blow lands clean, but neither of them are backing down.
To Danhausen, this is HIS redemption! This is HIS time to take back what had once belonged to him! Through all the fun and games, all the antics, all the mind games, there remained the drive to be champion. The passion for holding onto that Intercontinental gold once more.
To Eddie Kingston, though, there’s no redemption. There’s no time left for him. There’s only anger. Anger bred through desire, the same desire that has made him force his way out of contentment. The same desire that led him to countless victories and an equal number of defeats. The same desire that has fueled him ever since he first stepped into the UWF. The same desire that FAILED him when he gunned for the UWF World Championship over a year ago. This time, though, there will not be any failure! This time, there will not be any defeats! This time, he is going to get this RIGHT! HE IS GOING TO GET THIS RIGHT, EVEN IF IT KILLS HIM!
A flurry of forearms follows this inner outburst from Kingston, a well of energy unearthing itself within the champion, lighting up the face, and then the chest as Kingston’s arm refuses to lift high enough to meet the jaw of Danhausen!
However, just as Danhausen seems out of it, his eyes glazed over, Kingston looks him over…and raises that hand once more to the sky. This is the blow that will seal it, the final assault, as Kingston goes for that Spinning Backfist…
But Danhausen ducks it, catches hold of Eddie as he faces forward, and tosses him overhead with a Northern Lights Suplex! But that’s not enough! Eddie stands, letting out his own cry as he charges forward, ducks underneath Danhausen’s arm, and tosses him back with a Saito Suplex! BUT THAT’S NOT ENOUGH! DANHAUSEN GETS TO HIS FEET, DUCKS UNDER EDDIE, AND SENDS HIM BACK WITH A RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX! BUT THAT STILL IS NOT ENOUGH, AS EDDIE GETS TO HIS OWN FEET, POWERING THROUGH THE PAIN, ALL TO DUCK UNDER DANHAUSEN, HOOK ONE ARM DOWN, ONE ARM INTO A HALF-NELSON, AND TOSS HIM BACK WITH A HALF-AND-HALF SUPLEX! AND FINALLY, BOTH MEN STAY DOWN, COLLAPSED ON THE MAT!
With the match left at a standstill, Danhausen and Kingston both out of it, only one thing remains on the mind of the crowd.
THIS IS AWE-SOME!
CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP
THIS IS AWE-SOME!
CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP
THIS IS AWE-SOME!
CLAP CLAP CLAPCLAPCLAP
Mauro Ranallo: ”What a battle! What an absolute WAR so far!”
With the crowd seeming to fuel them, both Danhausen and Eddie Kingston scrape themselves off their backs, Danhausen needing the turnbuckle to assist him while Eddie just does it by himself. Having been the last one on offense, Eddie gets to his feet first, and begins his approach just as Danhausen has gotten to a vertical basis…but with just a few steps between them, Danhausen goes into a drop step, scoops Eddie up onto his shoulders, and then drops him for the GTS…but as Eddie eats the knee to the jaw, he doesn’t quite drop down to the mat. Rather, he is sent flying back into the corner, looking to be fast asleep.
So, with Danhausen scrounging his way back to his feet, he approaches Kingston…but there’s one key thing that seems to slip the former champion’s mind: He isn’t no CM Punk, and he sure as hell isn’t no KENTA. This may have slipped his mind…but it didn’t slip Kingston’s, as he leaps into his own form of action, headbutting Danhausen in the midsection and throwing him quite roughly into the turnbuckle, his shoulder meeting the post!
Mauro Ranallo: ”Some beautiful playing possum from The Mad King, and it comes at the cost of Danhausen’s already-weakened arm!”
Howling in pain, the suffering brings a smirk to Kingston’s face, as he takes hold of Danhausen and begins to systematically tear apart the arm of the former champion, trying to break him down completely. With each strike to the arm, Eddie gets more vicious, more ferocious, more violent with his assault…but as he is continuing his own dismantling of Danhausen, there is another party who is getting themselves back involved. Rolling back into the ring, Maxwell Jacob Friedman stands with a smile on his face, turning for a moment away from Eddie, and kissing his own fist. Charging in, MJF would have his fist reared back, ready to strike…but for those who have eagle eyes, they would catch on rather quickly this isn’t just a typical assault. No, they would see the glints of brass around his knuckles, and it would be known that MJF is looking for some retribution after Eddie’s earlier backfist to the skull.
However, Eddie’s eyes aren’t as sharp as they used to be. Those glints of brass are dyed red, as blood continues to trickle down, so he has no idea what is truly to come as he turns just to see Friedman charging in…
But Eddie Kingston is a street fighter, first and foremost. He knows when a punch is coming, so when it is thrown? He ducks, causing Max to stumble forward, his arm reaching over the ropes, and as he turns, Eddie is there to meet him with a clean shot across the jaw! Flailing backwards, Eddie’s eyes would finally catch the glints of brass as they fly through the air, followed by a call from MJF towards Regal to catch them, but that’s not happening on Eddie’s watch!
Exiting the ring, Eddie would follow the knuckles, with Regal scrounging for them in the meanwhile, leading Kingston closer to the ramp as Sir William comes up with them, only to be grabbed by Eddie! However, that’s not where he should be paying attention!
Corey Graves: ”GUYS, GUYS, IN THE RING! IN THE RING!”
With Eddie having lost his focus, and MJF not quite laid out, there would be a mad scramble from Friedman, turning to see that Eddie has been led astray…and once it is confirmed, he races towards the center of the ring, grasping Danhausen, and locking in the Salt Of The Earth, before taking it up a notch and floating over into a bridging variant!
Corey Graves: ”SALT OF THE EARTH! SALT OF THE EARTH IS LOCKED IN!”
Mauro Ranallo: ”EDDIE! IT’S A TRAP, GET BACK INSIDE!”
Only now catching on as Regal’s vision is focused behind him than on him, Eddie shoves Regal back, turning around to race into the ring, his eyes dead set on Danhausen, watching him struggle in the grasp of Maxwell. Just a few more seconds, just a few more seconds and the hold can be broken, the match can be saved…
…
…
…
...BUT THE PAIN IS JUST TOO MUCH TO BEAR, AND WITH EDDIE KINGSTON MERE INCHES AWAY, HAVING JUST GOTTEN HIMSELF HALFWAY INTO THE RING, HE IS FORCED TO STOP, WATCHING ON AS DANHAUSEN TAPS OUT!!!
DING DING DING
Tony Chimel: ”HERE IS YOUR WINNER…AND THE NEWWWWW UWF INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION, MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN, M…J…F!!!!!”
Mere inches. That’s all that was between Eddie Kingston and saving his championship. Just another foot, just another moment, another second, that’s all he needed. But instead…he is left heartbroken. His championship reign, the same reign that brought the recognition he oh so desperately craved, the validation he desired after blowing his previous opportunities…gone in an instant, thanks to a pair of conniving villains.
For Maxwell Jacob Friedman, however?
This was deserved.
Corey Graves: ”YOU SEE, NOW, TOM?! YOU SEE, MAURO?! THE PERFECT OPPORTUNIST! MAXWELL BIDED HIS TIME, HE PLAYED THE FIELD, AND AT THE END OF THE DAY, WE HAVE A NEW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION!”
With Sir William Regal slowly, shakily getting himself back into the ring, still clearly feeling the effects of Danhausen’s curse, there is an expression of jubilance on the face of Maxwell Jacob Friedman. Ever since he entered this company, he claimed to be the best of the best, to be better than the rest. He claimed to be the real main event attraction, the marquee, the single biggest star in the UWF…and tonight, he has taken one large step towards making that into an unquestionable, unrivaled, universal truth. He has gained a championship that plenty have held before him, some for better, some for worse, but now? Now it is in the hands of the prodigy of a protege that Sir William Regal has found for himself, and it is clear he couldn’t be any prouder of Maxwell for what he has accomplished.
Taking this win for himself, Maxwell heads up the turnbuckle, posing with his newly won Intercontinental Championship, smirking out to the crowd, before making his way up the ramp, and as a final shot for the fans, he holds the gold high, keeping it held above his head until the show moves on…
As the pay-per-view rolls on, it plays a segment from before the show even began. Ospreay is seen standing in view of the cameraman talking to a stagehand about Wrestlemania and its preparations
Sami Zayn: Young Willy!
Ospreay visibly sighs and turns to see Sami Zayn rushing over.
Sami Zayn: Where have you been, I've been looking all over for you. After what Ciamap did to both Generico and Becky Lynch, I've been worried sick about you. He's clearly got it out for all my protege's and so I've got La Luchadora hiding out in a safe house for her own protection. You however have impressed me a lot these past few weeks. I think you can more than handle business yourself so I need you to come out and escort me to the ring just in case that psychopath tries to blindside me.
“The Commonwealth Kingpin” Will Ospreay
“Look, Sami. I get it, I do. But I have my own match to think about… One that I’m fighting on YOUR behalf already. I’m only fighting against Homicide because he’s pissed off and wants a match against you ‘cause of what you did to him before the Rumble, bruv. So as much as you might want or need me to help, it’s not that I might not want to, it’s that I already am. El Generico or La Luchadora might not be around, but maybe you should use that to fuel yourself… Think about what Ciampa did to them, and give him that back and more… You can end this man’s career once and for all… and you don’t need me, for you to be able to do that.”
Sami Zayn: Oh I don't need anyone. I just thought it'd be a nice teaching moment. Let you get a front row seat to seeing how a real wrestler adapts and overcomes. You could learn a lot from this you know! And if Ciampa were to happen to try anything dastardly, maybe you could take one for the team and-
“The Commonwealth Kingpin” Will Ospreay
“Mate...”
Ospreay pats a single hand on Zayn’s shoulder, stopping him mid-sentence with a single action and word. He holds it there for a moment as Will refrains from speaking for a short moment, the two of them pausing.
“The Commonwealth Kingpin” Will Ospreay
“Good luck on the match.”
Ospreay gives The Forever Champion’s shoulder another quick pat before he turns and begins to walk away from Sami, he gives the stagehand a nod of acknowledgement and walks in the direction of the backstage, presumably towards his locker room as he goes to prepare for his match.
Sami Zayn: Wait Will, there's still some things we need to discuss! Son of a...
The screen fades to black, and the show moves on.
The scene opens up on Batista on the red carpet of a movie premiere.
”The Hollywood Animal” Batista: That’s right, even during Wrestlemania season, the hustle doesn’t stop and I still go to premieres and the like. But don’t think for a second that it’s taking my focus away, because I’m still zeroed in on what I’m going to do to that little shit Spike Dudley when I get my hands on him. Even with Stacy blowing up my phone because she got a real dicking and the local hospital trying to get me to pay for Bubba and D-Von’s hospital bills, I’m still not distracted. Because that’s what an entrepreneur and a mogul like myself does, he juggles things and makes it look effortless. And what’s going to happen between the bells, that’s what an ass kicker does which, never forget, I also am. I’m going to obliterate you, Spike, and leave the wrestling fans without their Uncle while I keep shining in the aftermath. Wrestlemania XII is the night of the, “Hollywood Animal”, the, “Feature Presentation”, the, “Final Boss”, not you. See you in the ring, Underdog.
Batista walks offscreen as Wrestlemania continues elsewhere.
"Homicide" by LL Cool J hits the PA System and out comes the "Notorious 187" Homicide!
Homicide comes out and the fans cheer. Homicide puts the gun signs up and than he fake shoots his pretend guns and makes his way down to the ring as the fans cheer him.
Tony Chimel: Introducing from Cocunut Creek, Florida by way of Brooklyn New York this is the Notorious 187 Homicide!!!
Homicide enters the ring and gets to the top turnbuckle removing his bandana and throwing it to the fans. He throws up a gang sign representing his LAX days. Homicide than jumps down from the turnbuckle and is ready for the fight at hand.
A whole two-months since his debut in the UWF, all culminating to his first appearance on the grandest stage of them all. It didn’t matter where it was on the card, or if he wasn’t one to be distracted by the grandiose aura around it, first impressions always matter.
A different theme hits the speakers, flooding the arena.
Rising from a platform in the ground, a hooded figure in white, purple and orange - a snow tiger attached to his shoulder - stays crouched down to the floor, only rising once the martial and thunderous instrumentals kick in after a brief reprieve from the choir, Ospreay flicks his hood back and spreads his arms wide in one ascending motion.
Will Ospreay walks forwards at a slow, commanding pace towards the ring. Stopping himself at the top of the ramp for a moment to bask both in the crowd’s ever-present disdain, as well as the lights shining upon him, his arms still spread wide as the crowd gazes at him.
Ospreay cracks a smile, almost always enjoying the spotlight whenever it’s placed on him, before regaining his serious composure and demeanour, more focused on the task at hand, not allowing himself to fall astray from the match and into being dazed and blinded by the glory, pressure and all that comes with performing among the greatest spectacle in sports entertainment. Ospreay wasn’t here to be bewildered, he was here to make a point and - if all went his way - to end this chapter between both himself and Homicide.
Tony Chimel: On his way to the ring, weighing in at 220 pounds. Fighting out of Rainham, England, he IS the Commonwealth Kingpin of the United Empire, The ASSASSIN, WILL OSPREAY!
Stomping his way up the steel steps after he finally makes his way to ringside, he walks along the apron to the turnbuckles further away, climbs up the ropes gracefully and places one foot on the top turnbuckle. The Commonwealth Kingpin-turned First Elden Lord gives one last cheeky smirk, surveying around the crowd as he looks out into them from his vantage point, nodding as he does so, lights shining behind him.
After a while, Will climbs down into the ring into his corner, his theme stopping as he begins to take off his entrance gear to prepare for his match.
As soon as the bell sounds Ospreay launches an almighty assualt on Homicide quickly dropping the former World Champion to the floor. Ospreay then hits the ropes and rebounds with a Basement Dropkick knocking Homcide to the outside. Ospreay then stands up and expects to receive his flowers - instead he is met with the chagrin of the UWF faithful. Ospreay mouths off at Homicide who is struggling back to his feet, already trying to knock the cobwebs off mere minutes into the match. Ospreay hits the ropes and in a dazzling display of aerial agility he handsprings before launching himself through the air with a Moonsault over the top rope completing his signature Space Tiger Trop, an homage to the legendary Tiger Mask. Ospreay lands flush on the standing Homicide knocking him back down to the floor again. Ospreay who stuck the landing looks out at the crowd and raises his hand in the air, telling them all that he is indeed the future of this company.
Mauro Ranallo: Will Ospreay is all over Homicide here tonight - Homicide can't even catch his breath!
Tom Phillips: And that speaks to the tenacity of the Elden Lord here tonight, he wants to make an impact here and he'll do it at the expense of an all-time great such as Homicide.
Corey Graves: I'm just glad Homicide is finally getting some comeuppance for once!
Ospreay grabs Homicide by the head and tosses him under the ropes and into the ring. Homicide is struggling to his feet as Ospreay stands on the outside ring apron looking to springboard himself into the ring. As Homicide gets back to his feet, Ospreay uses the ropes and springboards himself off the top rope but is caught in mid-air by the veteran with a shuffle side kick to the mid-section. Ospreay stumbles forward holding his gut as Homicide pulls himself together. Ospreay turns round and Homicide runs in his direction and wallops him with an almighty Big Boot dropping Ospreay to the mat near the corner. Homicide looks around at the crowd who are firmly on his side as he looks down at Ospreay who has pulled himself up in the corner. Homicide runs at him and hits him with a Corner Shining Wizard. Ospreay drops down to a seated position and Homicide sees his opportunity. He runs off the ropes and goes for his signature Facewash Kick in the corner but Ospreay pulls himself out of the way and Homicide goes sailing out between the bottom and middle ropes. Ospreay has pulled himself out under the bottom rope and onto the ring apron and as Homicide turns around Ospreay launches himself off the ring apron and wraps his arm around the head of Homicide before flipping and driving said head into the floor on the outside with a devastating Essex Destroyer!
Corey Graves: GOOD GOD!
Mauro Ranallo: H0micide's head driven into the floor on the outside - he has to be out cold!
Ospreay springs back to his feet and tosses a prone, slumped Homicide under the bottom rope into the ring. Ospreay takes a few steps back and measures the prone Homicde before running at him and flipping into the air - landing flush with a beautiful running Shooting Star Press; Ospreay however isn't finished as he rolls forwards; flips to his feet and springs up onto the top rope before launching himself off with a Corkscrew Moonsault. Ospreay stays atop Homicide for the cover.
1...
2...
The wiley veteran rolls the shoulder out and Ospreay has a wry smile on his face. He turns around and looks at Homicide as if to say 'really?'. He rubs Homicide's bald head condescendingly which the UWF Legend does not take kindly too, firing back with a stiff right hand knocking Ospreay to the mat. Homcide then flips over and mounts Ospreay now landing right hand after right hand, then lefts and more rights and lefts until Ospreay goes reaching for the ropes and calls for the referee to remove Homicide. Homicide stays atop Ospreay for the full duration of the referee's five count until the referee pulls him off of Ospreay who is paying for his disrespect.
Mauro Ranallo: 'The Notorious 187' is firing up, he's showing he's still got plenty gas left in the tank!
Tom Phillips: A veteran like Homicide isn't going to stand for the disrespect shown to him by this young upstart Will Ospreay!
Homicide gets up and goes after Ospreay who gotten to a vertical base just on the outside ring apron. Homicide goes to grab at him but Ospreay hits him with a rope assisted Roundhouse to the side of the head knocking Homicide backwards. Ospreay then quickly makes a move to the top rope for another aerial assault but from nowhere Homicide revovers, runs up the turnbuckles, grabs a hold of Ospreay and launches him overhead with an Avalanche Exploder Suplex!. There's a big cheer from the crowd as Homicide is the first man to make it back to his feet, he points to the top rope and climbs up as Ospreay struggles to get to his knees. Ospreay pulls himself up to his feet using the ropes just as Homicide launches himself off, grabs Ospreay round the head and twists before planting the Brit into the mat below with a Tornado DDT!. Homicide quickly makes the cover.
1....
2...
Ospreay gets the shoulder out. Homicide immediately stands up and signals that it's time to wrap things up, he's looking for the Gringo Killer. Homicide is sizing Ospreay up as he struggles to his feet. Once to a vertical base Homicide grabs him from behind and drags him to the centre of the ring hooking his arms in the tiger position before lifting him overhead looking to drop him straight on his neck but Ospreay reverses and flips straight out landing on his feet, he has a hold of Homicide's wrist and turns him inside out before hitting him with a sickening Rainham Maker!
Corey Graves: He reversed the Gringo Killer!, this has to be it!
Ospreay leaves nothing to chance, he waits for Homicide to struggle to his knees before he places his head bewteen his legs and signals for the end. Ospreay locks Homicide's arms up in the Tiger Bomb position before getting him up onto his shoulders and with a display of both power and athletisicm Ospreay proceeds to his Homicide with his finishing manuever called the Storm Breaker!. Homicide hits the mat hard face first. Ospreay has a sinister smile on his face as he looks down at the fallen Homicide. Instead of going for the pin he decides to double down, he wants to make sure everyone remembers his Wrestlemania debut and he stands over Homicide who has rolled over onto his belly and is getting to his hands and knees. Just as he does Ospreay measures him and proceeds to absolutely pulverise Homicide with a big back elbow to the back of the head - the Hidden Blade!. Homicide is out cold as Ospreay rolls him over for the formality.
1...
2...
...3!
Winner: Will Ospreay!
Ospreay stands over the prone Homicide as he has his hand raised. Ospreay takes a moment to look around at his surroundings, his success - just as the fans rain down a shower of boos on the UWF newcomer.
Mauro Ranallo: What a dominant victory for Will Ospreay - he just finished off a bonafide UWF legend and fellas, we might just be looking at a future star right here.
Corey Graves: There's no doubt in my mind that this man right here, 'The Aerial Assassin', 'The Commonwealth Kingpin', The Elden Lord' - whatever you want to call him, Will Ospreay is destined for greatness here in the UWF and tonight - his very first Wrestlemania - is sure step in that direction, watch this space ladies and gentlemen, you're looking at a future champion right here.
Following a stellar triple threat match for the Intercontinental title where he ultimately came up short, Danhausen can be seen getting assisted to the trainer’s room by a couple of physicians and referees. As they are walking along the corridor, Danhausen despite not prevailing and still quite obviously feeling the physical effects from both the match and Rebellion from a few days prior still seems in pretty good spirits, even sharing in a laugh about something with one of the physicians, as the commentary team look to narrate the situation before the show continues.
Mauro Ranallo: And there we see Danhausen being assisted on his way to receiving medical attention. An outstanding effort from the very nice, very evil one, especially considering that the odds were very much against him from the outset.
The laughter immediately changes to panic though as one of the referees yells “Watch out!” as out of nowhere, the giant figure of Drew McIntyre comes into shot and levels Danhausen with a vicious Claymore. Clearly intend on picking up from where he left off a few days ago, the cries of “Help!” echo down the corridor from the staff members, but none of them feel capable of physically intervening as McIntyre immediately starts clubbing Danhausen with vicious blows to the head and torso region.
Tom Phillips: Its… it’s damn Drew McIntyre again! As if his horrific actions from the other night weren’t enough, he’s back for more!
Corey Graves: It seems like he’s here to finish the job once and for all Phillips. This could get ugly!
Fully aware that he is in a much deadlier environment than a few nights ago, McIntyre brings his blows to Danhausen to a close in order to scout the alternative means of hurting him. After delivering a foot stomp to keep Danhausen firmly grounded, McIntyre takes a few short steps out of frame in order to unclip some production trolleys. As Danhausen tries to get up onto his knees, McIntyre comes running back into frame, pushing one of the production trolleys with full force into the grounded Danhausen, keeping him firmly planted in a vulnerable state on the floor as he yells out in pain. Stepping to the side of the trolley, McIntyre squats down and takes a moment to just watch his target suffering.
Drew McIntyre: ...
An almost emotionless McIntyre gets back to his feet and this time begins picking up any objects within easy reach and just starts throwing them on top of Danhausen, to the point where they are helping to keep him pinned to the ground. As McIntyre takes a moment to admire his heinous handiwork, he kicks away a handful of the objects that are covering Danhausen in order to grab him by the arm. With minimal effort due to his post-match weakened state, McIntyre begins dragging Danhausen across the hall and through a set of fire doors, but not before intentionally slowing down in order to let one of the doors swing back off Danhausen, which again causes him to yell out in excruciating pain due to the sudden forceful impact. As the cameras follow through at the tail end and head through the doors behind McIntyre and Danhausen, the viewers can see that the Scotsman has now led his target into the Wrestlemania parking lot. Having gotten Danhausen positioned right where he wants him, McIntyre easily picks Danhausen up and throws him over his shoulder, before charging at break neck speed towards the side of a blue Chevrolet Silverado, throwing Danhausen head first through the passenger side window and shattering the glass into multiple countless pieces.
Mauro Ranallo: Good God…
As McIntyre takes a step back in order to admire his handiwork, the camera focuses on the now seemingly lifeless body of Danhausen, of which half remains lodged in the broken car window slot. Remarkably after a few seconds, some finger twitching can be seen on the right hand of the hanging arm of Danhausen, indicating that there is still some life in there, but seeing this is the case, McIntyre moves in again, forcibly pulling Danhausen out of the broken window to reveal that he has open cuts from the broken glass wound, with trickles of blood now running down his face and onto his torso. Showcasing his vicious power once again, McIntyre grabs Danhausen by the neck and hurls him onto the car bonnet. The impact can be heard all over as Danhausen crashes onto the metal framework before falling over onto the opposite side.
Tom Phillips: This has got to stop! Forget the damn gimmick, there’s a man under all that blood and facepaint, he doesn’t deserve this!
Realising that he has even more punishing tools to work with, McIntyre seems intent to finally finish the job once and for all, as he storms across concrete floor and heads directly for a parked ambulance that is on site to aid with medical emergencies. It’s not the purpose that McIntyre has in mind for it though, as he walks over to the driver’s side and opens the door in order to take a seat at the wheel as the sound of the engine starts up.
Corey Graves: He’s not gonna…surely?...
Mauro Ranallo: No!!
Without a moment’s hesitation, McIntyre accelerates the ambulance forward at breakneck speed, smashing into the side of the Chevrolet where Danhausen was seemingly positioned, seemingly crushing him in between the two vehicles. As McIntyre exits the ambulance, the camera remains on the far side, with the operator clearly not feeling brave enough to go any closer to him or check on Danhausen’s condition. As McIntyre walks across to closely inspect the destruction he’s just caused, he glances down and just stares coldly for a number of seconds before raising his head and catching a team of paramedics who he presumably just commandeered the ambulance from. In a truly heartless manner, McIntyre finally speaks up in order to address them.
Drew McInytre: Good luck cleaning that up!
And with his chilling words, he simply walks away into the distance, as the paramedics cautiously approach along with a few other UWF staff members from different departments in order to check on what if anything remains of Danhausen. The camera moves in a little closer, but is unable to catch a glimpse of the very nice, very evil one as the team huddles around the car wreck in order to give him some dignified privacy as they try and tend to him.
Tom Phillips: I… I can’t believe what we just saw.
Mauro Ranallo: Nor can I Tom, to say that was shocking does not do it anywhere near enough justice.
Realising that trying to film Danhausen in this current state no longer seems appropriate, and also not wishing to follow the extremely volatile McIntyre, the camera fades to black and begins playing some UWF promotional material ahead of the next contest getting underway.
The titantron switches from the UWF Wrestlemania XII graphic to a live feed from backstage. Kyle O'Reilly is sitting on a road crate, sitting on a Gatorade Zero, waiting for his match to roll around. His step-sister Bayley is standing nearby, eyes fixed on a phone screen.
Bayley: Dude, you're trending at number four right now. Number four! No way that doesn't spike up to one once your match starts. Here check it out...
She tries to hand Kyle the phone but he shakes his head.
KO'R: Nah, I gotta focus before the match.
Bayley Okay, okay, have it your way. But hey, relax! Enjoy this! It's your big night! You got it in the bag.
O'Reilly just nods while Bayley goes back to scrolling. Its quiet for a little bit until the phone dings.
Bayley: Oh! Text from Larry! It says "Knock 'em dead, Daddio!" and then "ahahahahahahaha". Why wouldn't he just type "lol"?
Kyle shrugs while the "Good Guy" scrolls some more.
Bayley: There's this tweet from Mark that's popping off wishing you good luck, plus another one from Bobby Dempsey. Who the hell is Bobby Dempsey?
KO'R: Huh... I kinda thought he died...
The phone dings again.
Bayley: Another text for ya! It's from Despy!
KO'R: Probably don't open it.
Bayley: OH MY GAWD!
She tosses her step-bro's phone over her shoulder. It smashes into the concrete wall with a crack and a fizzle.
KO'R: Pfft. Told you.
Bayley: You should've told me louder. I gotta go get a drink or something.
KO'R: Yeah. I think I might clear my head, too.
Kyle gets up off the crate and heads off in one direction while Bayley goes in the other looking for the bar. The camera follows the Diabetic Dragon down the hall until he happens to come across Renee Young! Big pop from the crowd for the company's longest-serving backstage employee. She's half-way through a dart while another camera crew is setting things up for a backstage interview. Renee looks up as Kyle approaches.
Young: You're not booked for an interview, are you?
KO'R: Nah. Just walking. Didn't know you smoked...
Young: Didn't know you cared...
KO'R: Who said I did?
Young: Finish'r off then.
Renee offers up the rest of the cigarette which Kyle is too cool not to accept. He takes a drag from the wrong end and burns his lips but no-sells it, then through the butt off screen where a feint scream can be heard upon impact.
Young: So, off the record, how you feeling about tonight? It's been a minute, huh?
KO'R: Since what?
Young: Since you were at Wrestlemania, obvs.
KO'R: Oh. Yeah. Right. You know I only ever had one match at Mania before?
Young: The tag team turmoil with Larry down in Mexico. I remember.
KO'R: Yep.
The two of them step out of the way as a somebody walks past unrolling a bunch of cable.
Young: I remember you running around backstage, trying to figure out somebody to team with after Mark got hurt, and Sweeney was just a text away. He gonna be here tonight?
KO'R: Nope. I told him not to come. I'm doing this on my own.
Young: Bayley's gonna be out there though?
KO'R: Well yeah but... ya know... that's different.
Renee nods real slow.
Young: Right. Of course.
When Kyle doesn't say anything, she continues.
Young: That LA Knight guy's a piece of work, eh? First he's coming after your Medal, talking about throwing it into the ocean, then he's trying to score with Bayley, then everything at Rebellion, yadda yadda yadda...
KO'R: It sounds complicated. Like its a lot. But its not even. Not really.
Young: No?
Kyle shakes his head.
KO'R: I never had a little sister before. I was raised on the roughest playgrounds in the mean streets of Burnaby though, and the code of honor and the rules you learn there? That stuff's for life. If some jerk steals your toy, you make his lip bleed. If he messes with your sister, you give him a black eye.
Young: So that's the goal for tonight?
KO'R: What? No. That's just for starters. I'm gonna rip his arm out of its socket so he has to spend three months in physiotherapy before he thinks about putting his hands on other people's stuff again.
Young: Right. Of course. And you're not worried about getting disqualified?
KO'R: My job is fighting. The Ref's job is keeping the other guy safe.
Young: Hmph... well, Kyle, sounds like you're ready for your big night.
He looks down, thinking about that for a second, then shrugs and nods. About five years since he first rolled through and the Diabetic Dragon finally gets his chance to style on the Grandest Stage of 'em All. Without another word spoken, he goes off down the hall back the way he came.
Once he's gone, Renee goes back to her purse and comes up empty. She looks around at the crew and asks...
Young: Can anyone bum a smoke?
And then Wrestlemania XII rolls on!
We come back from a break in the action as the camera runs the ramp showing a display of multiple ladders scattered all around ringside...
Tony Chimel: The following contest is a five-man Ladder Match and it is for the UWF Television Championship!
The prestigious Television Championship is held aloft by the referee before it is placed on a hook which is then raised high above the ring - the crowd are at a fever pitch as the camera pans out to show all the ladders which have now been placed at ringside.
When Lie, Cheat, Steal by Jim Johnston plays, The UWF Universe See a low rider coming out from the back and drives it smoothly out here onto the stage and rides it straight down towards the ramp away and he pulls to a stop and turned on the switches inside of his low rider an stops it and gets out of his low rider in starts shaking his arms in gets inside of the Revolution ring and climbs up the top rope and beats on his chest and shakes his arms once again and head over towards the other top rope and does the exact same thing beats his chest and does the shake an gets down from the top rope
Tony Chimel: From El Paso, Texas Weighing in at two hundred and twenty eight pounds Eddie Guerrero
The familiar guitar string go across the arena as the laugh of the Last Outlaw can be heard across the arena as well. When the lyrics hit out walks the King of the Mountain Jeff Jarrett on to the stage already smack talking the fans before they even get a chance to say anything. Always with him is his trusty Acoustic Equalizer ready to hit anyone who gets in his way. He walks down the ramp a bit before lifting the guitar in the air as pyro is set off behind him as only Jeff Jarrett requested.
Tony Chimel: From Nashville Tennessee, weighing in tonight at 230 lbs, The Last Outlaw JEFF JARRETT.
Jeff continues his walk to the ring smack talking anyone who thinks they can get there two cents in. He makes his way to the steps and proceeds to head into the ring. He goes to the hard cam side and gets on the middle rope and hold the guitar up one more time for the fans to know that he means business. Jeff then puts the guitar down in his corner within arms reach if he needs it and gets ready for the match.
Hulk Hogan's theme hits and he makes his way out to the ring with Jimmy Hart wearing his Hulkamania Rules t-shirt, yellow trunks, yellow boots, bandana on his head.
Tony Chimel: Making his way to the ring from Venice Beach, California weighing 303 pounds accompanied by Jimmy Hart. He is The Real American Hulk Hogan.
Tony Chimel: From Atlanta, Georgia, Making their way to the ring, the American Nightmare, Cody Rhodes!
The pryo goes off as the American Nightmare come out to a huge ovation from the roaring crowd and he has a huge smile on his face.
“Catch your breath” begins to blast through the pa system as the crowd stand to their feet as they hear the theme song Everybody turns their attention to the entrance ramp to watch Finn Balor walk out onto the stage. Finn Balor walks out onto the stage in his blue leather jacket and blue trunks and quickly embraces the crowd as he walks out.
Tony Chimel: Weighing In at 180lbs from Bray, County Wicklow, Ireland, he is the reigning and defending, UWF Television Champion... Finn Balor!
The lights begin to flash, making the crowd go wild. Finn Balor times his theme song perfectly and taunts the crowd as the lights flash. After taunting Finn Balor throws up his collar on his jacket and proceeds to walk down the ramp and make his way to the ring. Balor then climbs onto the turnbuckle and begins to showboat the crowd once more as the light flickers. Finn Balor hops off of the turnbuckle.
The bell sounds and the five men in the ring have a five-way staredown. Arms reaching out in each direction, wondering who will lock-up with who. But suddenly Eddie Guerrero dips out of the ring and points to his big ol' brain. He knows he doesn't need to get involved in a brawl. This in turn however turns the four other men's attention towards him as he stands on the outside chit-chatting with his loyal fanbase. Cody and Hogan exit the ring on one side and Jarrett and Balor on the other. They stand on opposite sides of Eddie Guerrero. The crowd lap it up as Guerrero takes no notice until he is flanked on both sides. He slowly turns around and looks at Cody and Hulk and tries to talk them out of it; repeating the feat he turns around and tries to sweet-talk Jarrett and Balor but they're having none of it. The two opposing teams make a move on Guerrero but Guerrero ducks out of the way and the four men simply start attacking each other in their designated pairs!. The crowd jump to their feet in excitement as the mass brawl breaks out. Guerrero rolls into the ring and stands up with a big ol' shrug once again outsmarting his opponents.
Corey Graves: Look at the big brains on Eddie!
Mauro Ranallo: Work smart; not hard - that seems to be 'Latino Heat's mantra tonight.
All four men continue to brawl on the outside. Guerrero has went out on the opposite side and grabbed himself a ladder. He slides it under the bottom rope and into the ring. Guerrero now lifts the ladder and sets it up just underneath the dangling gold of the UWF Television Championship. Eddie Guerrero begins to quickly climb when all four men on the outside come to a sudden realisation of what's happening and immediately enter the ring and surround Guerrero again. Guerrero looks down at one side, down at the other and makes a short prayer as the unlikely pair of Hogan and Jarrett tip the ladder forward and send Eddie crashing into the top rope and then bouncing back onto the mat and eventually under the rope and to the outside. As Hogan looks down at the fallen Guerrero, Jarrett and Balor take the opportunity to dump him out of the ring leaving the two men teaming up two on one against Cody. Rhodes smirks as the two men stand opposing him. Cody instead of waiting for the eventual handicap-assault decides to go on the attack knocking Jarrett down with a right hand before forcing Balor into the corner. As Rhodes holds his forearm against the face of Balor, Jarrett comes from behind with a Chop-Block knocking Rhodes down to one knee. Balor and Jarrett then suddenly go on the attack like a pair of wild hyenas knocking lumps out of Rhodes. Balor sees the fallen ladder and lays it flat on the mat and instructs Jarrett to help him and both men hook their arms around the head of Rhodes before lifting him into the air and down across the ladder with a double-team Suplex!. Rhodes arches his back and grimaces in pain as Balor kicks him out of the ring also. This leaves opportunity however for Jarrett to go and toss Finn over the top rope but Finn holds his grip and skins the cat back into the ring and flips Jarrett around and asks him what the hell he's doing.
Tom Phillips: It looks like this alliance may be short lived here guys.
Mauro Ranallo: You can trust Jeff Jarrett just about as far you can throw him - and that's being generous!
Balor and Jarrett try and hash it out in the centre of the ring just as 'The Immortal' Hulk Hogan comes into the ring and grabs them both by the head, smashing them into each other with the double noggin' knocker. Both men drop to the floor and rolls out of the ring as Hogan is suddenly left alone in the ring with the sole ladder. Hogan does a big pantomime point to the ladder before he lifts it up and goes to set it up. Hogan stands the ladder up just beneath the TV Title and begins to climb just as Eddie Guerrero gets himself back to a vertical base. He sees Hogan edging towards the foot of the ladder and gets himself up onto the top turnbuckle before flying off and kicking Hogan straight in the mid-section with a Missile Dropkick, knocking Hogan to the floor. Jarrett and Balor who have come to decide to get back on the same page and take the opportunity to drag Hogan out at this point by the boots to the outside whereupon both men Irish Whip the living legend into the steel ring steps sending 'Hollywood' barrelling over them to the mat below. It's at this point Cody Rhodes suddenly comes out of nowhere flying off the ring apron with a big knee strike into Balor knocking him down. Jarrett turns around and is met with a big right hand from Cody before Cody knocks him head first into an upright ladder, sending Jarrett to the floor. Cody is full of fire as he grabs a ladder and folds it down heading to the ring where Guerrero is getting back to his feet with the assistance of the already standing ladder.
Corey Graves: It's just the 'American Nightmare' and Eddie Guerrero standing at the moment, can either man take advantage?!
Mauro Ranallo: The battle lines have certainly been drawn here in the early goings but with such a fast pace, will it be down to whoever can take advantage quickest and get themselves up that ladder to retrieve the Television Championship!
Tom Phillips: That Television Championship has been a route to greatness here in the UWF for many a man, held in fact by two of our main eventers tonight - so we can see how much is on the line for these five men as they look to climb the metaphorical rungs here in the UWF towards the top.
Eddie perhaps feeling the effects of being dumped from the top of a ladder previously rather gingerly repositions the ladder and tries to climb to the top but Cody slides into the ring and uses the ladder as a battering ram to knock Eddie off of the middle rungs. Cody then proceeds to position his own ladder just beneath the title, side by side with Eddie's ladder. Cody now begins the climb towards glory, each rung a step closer to the gold. He climbs slowly, still clutching at his back and grimacing as Eddie gets himself back up and climbs his own ladder. It's at this point now that Finn Balor remerges and begins to climb the ladder with Cody on it. Cody is at the top and reaching for the gold as Balor catches him with a shot to the midsection. Jarrett now comes into the ring and climbs up the ladder with Guerrero as he now tries to reach for the gold. Jarrett jabs Guerrero in the stomach before smashing his head off the top rung of the ladder. All four men try and reach over the top of each other to grab at the gold with neither man quite able to reach their target. It's at this point that Hulk Hogan gets himself back into ring and seeing the carnage he asseses the situation. All four men suddenly realise and turn around looking down at Hogan and they all shake their heads as the powerful Hogan pushes Guerrero's ladder which has a domino effect on the other ladder sending Rhodes and Balor flying to the outside and Jarrett and Guerrero crashing hard into the mat, the crowd go wild as Hogan begins to feel their energy!
Mauro Ranallo: MAMA MIA A QUADRUPLE CRASH AND BURN!
Tom Phillips: Could Hulkamania be about to run wild here at Wrestlemania!.
Hogan quickly moves one of the fallen ladders out of the way sliding it out of the ring under the bottom rope, however in doing so he has made a sort-of bridge between the ring apron and the ringside barricade. Hogan then moves to grab the other ladder and sets it up standing in the centre of the ring. Hogan again points to the title and looks around at the crowd nodding his head. Hogan proceeds now to climb the ladder. Unbeknownst to Hogan however, Jarrett has made the move over to the corner and has grabbed himself his signature guitar. Hogan climbs to the top of the ladder and is reaching when suddenly from the other side Guerrero is grabbing hold of his leg. Hogan tries to shake Guerrero off and eventually does sending down to the mat just as Jarrett climbs up the opposite side from Hogan. As soon as Hogan looks up Jarrett winds back and smashes Hogan over the head with the guitar, which in turn sends Hogan careering backwards through the air and to the outside through the ladder bridge to a chorus of 'HOLY SHIT!, HOLY SHIT!' chants. Jarrett looks on at the devastation but before he can get a chance to go for the belt Guerrero has grabbed him by the leg and whipped him off the ladder face first into the mat.
Corey Graves: SO MUCH FOR HULKAMANIA!
Mauro Ranallo: HOGAN CRASHING THROUGH THE LADDER!
EMT's and medics run down to ringside to the aid of Hogan who hasn't moved in the slightest. Guerrero goes to try and get at the ladder again but this time Balor comes into the ring and drops him to the mat with a slingshot. Cody then remerges into the ring and bounces off the middle rope with a Disaster Kick knocking the champion down. Jarrett now is back to his feet and grabs Cody from behind looking for The Stroke but Cody fends him off and sends him packing to the outside. Guerrero now to his feet then sends Cody packing to the outside. Balor now is to his feet and takes the ladder swinging it off of Guerrero's head knocking him through the ropes to the outside. Finn now looks down at his opponents, he wants to clear the field for himself and so he sets up the ladder against the ring ropes before hitting the opposite side, running up the ropes and launching himself up and over the top rope with a Suicide Senton on all three of his opponents knocking all of them and himself to the floor below!.
Tom Phillips: Balor laying it all on the line in his bid to retain the Television Championship here tonight!.
All four men are down on the floor and struggling to get back to a vertical base. Finn struggles first to a vertical base and gives a suspicious nod to a hooded fan on the side of the ramp who suddenly comes over the guard rail fending off a couple of security guards as he does so. The large man then throws back his hood to reveal it's none other than Damian Priest!. The crowd boo as Finn slumps holding his ribs and laughing. Priest grabs Guerrero by the head and smashes him backwards off the steel ramp. Jarrett stands up and looks at Finn and Priest, Jarrett outstretches a hand to Priest who responds with a big Spinning Heel Kick. Balor then stands next to Priest and whispers something into his ear. Priest then immediately takes Eddie once again by the head and shoves him up the ramp. Suddenly Cody the valiant hero attacks Priest from behind but then from nowhere comes Dominic Mysterio as the match descends into farce!
Mauro Ranallo: OH COME ON!
Corey Graves: THIS IS GENIUS!
Dominic and Rhodes right on the ramp with 'The American Nightmare' getting the better of Mafia member knocking him to the side - Cody glances over at Priest and Eddie who are now brawling at the foot of the ramp. Cody however quickly realises that Finn is on his own at ringside and making a move towards the ring. Balor quickly gets in the ring and immediately tries to set up the ladder. Balor sets it up beneath the title just as Rhodes rushes the ring. Balor and Rhodes now exchange blows, Rhodes full of fire knocking Balor down with a right hand, Finn back to his feet is met with another knocking the champion down again. Balor retreats into the corner and as Cody approaches, Balor slips out before hitting Rhodes with the enziguiri in the corner catching Rhodes flush and knocking him to the mat below. Finn the ascends to the top rope and is looking for the Coupe De Grace but then from out of nowhere comes Jeff Jarrett on the outside ring apron - with the partnership in tatters, Jarrett proceeds to knock Balor flying to the outside with Balor faceplanting into an upright ladder which is at ringside. Up on the ramp, Eddie is fighting valiantly against Priest who had tried to remove him from the match. Priest has a hold of Eddie by the throat and is looking for a Chokeslam off the stage, but Eddie goes low with a low blow dropping Priest to his knees. Eddie tries to make a move to go back down the ramp but Prison Dom comes out of nowhere blindsiding him with a ladder. Dom helps Priest back up and both men look down at Eddie's lowrider which sits just off the stage. Both men nod to each other before they grab Eddie, raise him up into the air and throw him off the stage crashing into his prized-lowrider, leaving a massive dent on the hood as Eddie slides off to the floor below.
Tom Phillips: The Mafia are doing Finn's dirty work, that's Eddie Guerrero now taken out of the match and what was once a fatal five way is suddenly a triple threat!
Meanwhile Jarrett has gotten into the ring and is trying to position the ladder now for his climb but Cody Rhodes is back to his feet and is having none of it pulling Jarrett down from the ladder and engaging him with rights pushing him into the corner. Cody then positions the ladder into the opposite corner. Cody goes for a big Irish Whip but Jarrett reverses sending Rhodes careering towards the upright ladder but Rhodes stops himself and as Jarrett comes running towards him Rhodes sends him up over head with a sickening back body drop which lands him vertically into the ladder before he falls down on his head and neck, slumping to the floor on his back just in front of the corner. Rhodes looks down at Jarrett before making the crazy psycho finger motion to his head. Rhodes then takes the ladder and places it across the top turnbuckle before climbing up to the top rope. He looks around at the crowd who are chanting his name before he grabs the ladder and flips backwards with it in his hands driving it into the prone Jarrett with a Moonsault!
Mauro Ranallo: MAMA MIA THE LADDER ASSISTED MOONSAULT!
Tom Phillips: What a move from Cody Rhodes but can he capitalise or has it taken too much out of him.
Hogan is out offiicially being carted out on a stretcher as EMTs also rush to Guerrero who is flat out off the side of the stage. Jarrett is out having been crushed beneath the ladder and Cody. Finn is barely conscious and bleeding from above the eye following his collision with the upright ladder on the outside. Cody is struggling to his feet holding his mid-section but the crowd is willing him on, the coast is clear... except that is from The Mafia who are surrounding the ring as Cody stands up looking around him. Dom and Damian step up onto the apron so Cody arms himself with a ladder and immediately goes after Dom who drops down from the apron just as Priest enters but Cody has his wits about him and hits Priest in the gut before placing the ladder over his head and across his shoulders just as Dom slides in. As soon as Dom gets to his feet Cody begins spinning and so takes out Dom and Priest with blows to the head knocking both men out of the ring. The crowd are roaring on as Cody now, centring himself and catching his balance sets up the ladder dead centre of the ring.
Tom Phillips: The Mafia is down!, this is it, this is Cody's moment!, climb!, climb!
Corey Graves: So much for impartiality!
Cody does indeed set the ladder up and begin the long climb to the top. With each rung the crowd cheer louder as Cody reaches towards his destiny. Cody finally gets himself to the top when suddenly out of nowhere Priest reaches up and grabs his foot, Cody shakes him off but as he does Finn Balor suddenly comes flying off of the top rope with a Missile Dropkick knocking Cody to the floor over the top rope. Finn clutches at his back but there's nothing now in his way as Priest helps him to his feet and Dominic sets up the ladder. Priest helps Balor up the ladder on his shoulders. Cody tires his damndest to get back into the ring but Dom is standing guard and jumps atop Rhodes as he tries to re-enter the ring. All that's left to do is for a groggy and beaten Finn to reach up and unclip the title which will now remain around his waist to the dismay of the crowd.
Winner: Finn Balor!
The crowd rain down with a chorus of boos as Finn stays atop Priest's shoulders at the top of the ladder holding his Television Championship aloft for the world to see.
Mauro Ranallo: Cody Rhodes was so close but in the end The Mafia proved too much for The American Nightmare to overcome!
Corey Graves: We've got bodies everywhere, EMTs everywhere - all in the name to hold that belt, and in the end the belt is staying put with The Mafia, and with Finn Balor!
WrestleMania has been everything you expect it to be. The matches have been fantastic but it's time to take a break from the ring as the cameras cuts away from the action and shows us Spike Dudley tapping up his boots in the backstage area. He looks dead straight into the camera and begins speaking.
Spike Dudley: 6 Years ago....... WrestleMania 6 or VI for the purists. I was sitting backstage, a little like I am now on top of the world. I was a bundle of nerves but I had my International Heavyweight Championship sitting by my side to keep me calm. I was getting ready to go to battle with one of the greatest champions UWF has ever seen in Kevin Steen..... a guy who had beaten everyone but he never beat me and Dolph Ziggler..... a guy who was on a hot streak and a guy who I had never beaten. We went on last giving me so much time on the night to sit by and let everyone else do their business..... giving me time to build my nerves and to over think things.
Spike takes a deep breath in, thinking off hi glory days as he continues.
I'm sitting here right now wishing I was back there. Not because I was champion, not because I was in the main event, not because I was involved in the Match of the Night, not because everything was coming up Dudley....... literally everything was going great for me where as now, not so much. It's been 6 years since I held that title, it's been years since I was even involved in WrestleMania, I've lost my only Pay Per View Match.....technically 2 if you want to count not winning the Royal Rumble. My position has changed but that is not the reason I wish I climbed in my time machine and escaped the now. Now, I sit here in front of the world, getting ready for a war. I don't have as much time to think but what I do have is a Tables Match against the meanest, biggest, strongest, hungriest guy I have faced in my career. This man is dangerous and I have pissed him off just enough that he wants to kill me.
Spike pauses now, maybe overthinking his actions that got him in this position. He breathes heavily as he continues strapping.
He wants my blood and I am fully expecting to bleed at some stage tonight. I expect to be put through a table. I expect Hollywood to take me to my limit. He has gone after my family but now, he comes after me. He tricked me into thinking he had done something to Stacy but she was left untouched. He isn't going to leave me untouched. He has stuck his nose in my business and I have stuck my nose in his. WrestleMania is the fitting stage for our climax Hollywood. I'm ready for this war that we are going in and whether we finish it tonight or whether this is only the beginning just now I'm ready.
Spike finishes tapping his boots. He places the tape next to him on a chair. He once again takes a deep breath.
But..... I have to thank you Hollywood. I have to thank you for smashing that bottle over my head. I have to thank you for smashing me through a table all those weeks ago. You see L.A Knight brought me back. The Royal Rumble brought me back but I came back for the wrong reasons then. It's you Hollywood that has reminded me just how much fun this business is. You have reignited me love for this business and I am having so much fun again. You have brought everything back that I was missing so before I smash your face in and leave you broken tonight, I want to thank you for bringing back the proper Uncle Spike Dudley. I want you to enjoy tonight as much as I do because you have once again brought out the best of me!! I have loved getting my ass kicked by you and being driven through the table by the Miz at Rebellion. I have loved getting the upper hand on you by trashing your office, I have loved getting one up on the Guild...... I even enjoyed your dirty trick in making me think Stacy was in danger...... I have loved everything about our story to this date. You have made me better Hollywood and I have nothing but respect for that but that won't stop me from doing what I need to do tonight. I need this more then you, I need this more then anything. I'll be hoping to sit in the backstage area of Wrestlemania XVIII and looking back at tonight Hollywood with fond memories. I've loved everything about this and just know......... I want you to truly know this Hollywood that I will love everything I do to you tonight..... and that's a promise.
Spike punches his fist into his hand, ready to go.... ready to do this as the camera leaves him and goes somewhere else.
Buzzard is getting his jacket tailored to his specifications last minute, The Thrillbilly Silas mason walks into frame as he pushes Buzzards shoulder causing the "Bastard" to turn his attention to the 6'6 man built like a shit brick house. Buzzard sends away the seamstress...
BUZZ-MAN, YA' DIDN' REPLY TO THE THRILLBILLY, YOU OWE ME ALOT OF DOUGH
SILAS MASON IS STARTIN' TO THINK YOU ARE FULL OF HOT AIR LIKE SOME SOUR DOUGH...
Silas, I was going to get to you and give you the money but the cheques UWF sent during my time away are null and void but Silas ya know "Buzzman" right? I got you...
I DUNNO ABOUT THAT! I MEAN I AM ABOUT TO MAKE YOU LIKE YOUR CHEQUES...
AND BOUNCE YOUR HEAD LIKE A BASKETBALL...
Silas, If I win tonight I can pay you. So... you still have my back tonight? right?
LEYTON THE THRILLBILLY DON' KNOW IF I TRUST YOU WITH MINE AND DEL MARRS FUTURE ANY MOR'...
I'm Buzz-man, You guys are in good hands...
BUZZARD MAYBE STEINER BEAT A GOOD THOUGHT
INTO THE THRILLBILLYS HEAD
FOR THE FIRST TIME THE LAST FEW MONTHS, I OUGHT
TO GIVE YOU A PIECE OF THE THRILLBILLY BUT STEINER MIGHT JUST RIP MY HEADOFF
IF I GET MY THRILL ON BEFORE HE GETS HIS HANDS ON THE BUZZ-MAN
Mason I got you a spot in this company and I can just as quickly get it revoked, I will make sure you're never booked again if you don't go through with our pla-
Mason pushes Leyton's shoulder causing Buzzard to stop mid sentence, Mason gets nose to nose with the bristol born bastard...
THE THRILLBILLYS OUT, KACHOW...
Buzzard is left speechless as if his mind is racing with the thoughts of going it alone...
Back to the action in the ring, Tony Chimel steps up into the squared circle, which is surrounded by four tables.
Chimel: The following contest is a 30 Minute Iron Man Table's Match!
As “See Me Shine” by Bone Thugz-n-Harmony begins to play, the UWF fans immediately begin to boo as they know who the theme music belongs to and who they’re inevitably about to have to look at. Not missing a beat, out walks Batista with the Hollywood Championship proudly on him as he makes his way down the ramp to the ring.
Chimel:Introducing first, from Washington, D.C. Weighing in at two hundred and ninety pounds. He is the reigning Hollywood Champion and the leader of The Guild, the, “Hollywood Animal”, BAATIIISSSSTTTTAAAA!!!
Batista goes to the nearest turnbuckle and ascends it, using the opportunity to show off the belt once more before stepping down and getting ready for the match ahead.
The crowd are quiet, waiting for something to happen but the silence doesn't last long as fireworks shoot from the ceiling down onto the stage as a familiar theme song plays out of the PA System.
LET ME SEE YOU PUT EM UP,
REACH THE SKY, TOUCH THE STARS UP ABOVE
CAUSE IT'S ONE TIME FOR THE UNDERDOG
The crowd rise to their feet as they await for the appearance of the Runt of the Family. The crowd raise the noise levels as Spike Dudley emerges from the curtain. Spike is looking all business tonight, looking ready to go.
Spike pounds his chest, looking out into the crowd as he begins his way down the ramp. The fans are begging for high fives and he obliges, touching the free hands with all the fans at ringside as he comes to end of the ramp. He takes a running start, sliding into the ring before climbing the turnbuckles, beating his chest and looking out into the sea of adoring fans.
Chimel: And his opponent, from Dudleyville, weighing in at 145 pounds, SPIKE DUDLEY
Spike steps down from the turnbuckle and comes back to the center of the ring, grabbing his wrists and rolling them in his hands as he looks set. Chimel heads out of the ring and the Referee calls for the bell.
DING DING
The bell rings and right off the hop the two competitors, Hollywood Animal and Ultimate Underdog, rush each other and start trading blows in the ring. Batista's punches are of the heavier variety and while he throws fewer of them, each one that connects takes a heavy toll on the smaller Spike, who is unloading quicker and softer blows that land relatively unmitigated as kidney shots on the Final Boss. Those repeated kidney shots eventually leave Big Dave out of step and reeling, and Spike uses that to his advantage as he kicks the behemoth in the stomach and then hits a sitout facebuster! Batista's face bounces hard off the canvas and he rolls over onto his back. The Scrappy Dudley gets right back to his feet to a huge pop for a familiar start for the former International Champion.
Phillips: They're coming out like cannonballs tonight! An electric start as these two men finally get the opportunity to settle their differences under the brightest spotlight on the biggest stage.
Ranallo: Spike boasts a helluva Wrestlemania resume with wins here over the likes of former world champions in Dolph Ziggler, Kevin Steen and Cody Rhodes.
Graves: It's been a minute since the Runt came to the Grandaddy, though, Mauro. Meanwhile the Hollywood Animal has been busy at work, including a win over another little pest at last year's show.
Spike jumps on to Batista in a full mount and just starts raining down with the fists. At first, Big Dave turtles up with the arms, putting that MMA training from a few years back to good use. Dudley isn't showing any signs of gassing out, though, so rather than weather the storm, the Feature Presentation bucks his hips and twists and turns like rodeo bull until he manages to shake his opponent off.
The separation sees them rolling in opposite directions - Batista under the ropes to the floor and Spike back towards the center of the ring. Once his feet land, the actor stumbles away, shaking his head a bit as he takes a moment to regain his bearings. This isn't how he wanted to start things out. There's a visible frustration written all over his face.
Conversely, Spike is fired up like an oven when granny's baking. The Ultimate Underdog is back to a vertical base in no time. He scopes out his enemy and then hits the ropes to conjure up some bonus momentum so he can launch his entire body at the guy with reckless abandon.
Phillips: We got a flight coming in from Dudleyville to LAX!
Graves: We aren't two minutes into this thing and this idiot's ready to kill himself!
Coming through the middle ropes like a heat-seeking missile, Spike flies directly into Big Dave with every pound of body at his disposal. Only thing is, Batista was kinda playing possum there and was actually a heck of a lot more ready than he let on. He managed to fool everyone cause he's such a good actor.
As such, he catches Spike on the way down in a Bear Hug of sorts, and uses that position to toss the stunned highflier into the nearby barricade with a Black Hole Slam! Who says this guy only has five moves?
Dudley ricochets off the barrier like a smart car hitting black ice and nailing a concrete wall on the interstate. The impact rattles the railing for tens of feet in both directions and sends the front row fans reeling, even spilling a few of their refreshments. Like Batista cares. His focus is zeroed in on the man that's been a thorn in his side since the week after the Royal Rumble.
Spike rolls over, wincing and clutching his ribs while Batista stalks him like a carnivorous beast.
Ranallo: Experts and pundits theorized this is how the match might play out. A 30-Minute Ironman match is a marathon, not a sprint, and in the long run, you have to believe that that favours a man of Spike's stature more than a muscle-bound monolith such as Dave Batista. In the early-going's, though, there's no doubt who has the advantage.
Graves: How long do you think Spike's going to be able to last with a couple of broken ribs, Mauro?
Batista pursues his prey to one of the tables set up by each of the four corners of the ring. Spike actually uses it to help himself up, too blinded by pain to understand the peril that he's putting himself in with that kind of proximity. Batista actually cracks a fraction of a smile as he scoffs.
Dudley finally pulls himself up to a standing position just in time to get snatched up by the Hollywood Animal. Big Dave whips him around, slams a knee into his breadbasket to keep him floppy, then yeets his opponent up into powerbomb position. The fans gasp as Batista executes his signature maneuver with ease, driving Spike clean through the table with a Batista Bomb!
SCORE AT 25:50
BATISTA: 1
DUDLEY: 0
The fans groan, so depressing is the site of the beloved Spike Dudley getting splattered all over the floor, splinters of wood all around him. Batista stands tall, brushing some of the shards from his knee pads before pulling up Spike by a handful of hair. He proceeds to drag the guy towards the next table down the line, but presses his face into the ring apron as they go so that his cheek is rubbed raw against the canvas. What a jerk. This has Dudley focusing all his effort on trying to pull his head free from Batista's grip, though, so that he's not even really noticing how close they now are to second table set up at ringside.
When they get there, Batista once again jams his knee cap into the solar plexus of his rival. Another blow to Spike's torso leaves him gasping for wind, and prone to be set up for a second Batista Bomb. A gasp fills the arena as the threat of a consecutive point in the Final Boss' favour horrifies the masses.
Missus Dudley didn't raise no quitter, though, and once Spike is perched up on those broad traps of the Hollywood Animal, a second wind kicks in. He tenaciously fires back with some punches while up above on the big screens, the timer ticks its way past the five minute mark.
Phillips: If Batista thought this was going to be a walk in the park, he's got another thing coming. There's never been a UWF superstar with more guts and gumption than Spike Dudley. He's gonna be in this thing for the entire thirty minutes and then some!
Graves: Yeah, he's like one of the bad rashes you just can't ever seem to get rid of.
Ranallo: I hear the Simon System offers a cream for that sort of thing now, Corey, if you're interested.
After slowing down Batista with some harsh punches, Spike vies to Kidman his way out of this predicament with the hurricanrana. He leans back hard, hoping that the weight shift will be enough to carry Batista over through the table first.
It simply isn't.
Big Dave plants his feet and sits down on his hips to prevent himself from getting flipped. Spike wind up in a Tree of Woe position, knees still bent over his opponent's shoulders while he's dangling helplessly. Batista doesn't hesitate to capitalize, pendulum swinging the former International Champ into the steel ring post.
Skin marries metal with a the dour clang of a church bell at a funeral. A bruise erupts across Dudley's spine in a volcanic instant, scorching his pale skin with a violet hue. Spike cries out in anguish as Batista swings him back the other way then releases to toss him down through the table like a hay bale.
SCORE AT 23:37
BATISTA: 2
DUDLEY: 0
Ranallo: Wow! And just like that, Batista is up two-nil within the first ten minutes of the contest.
Graves: Spike is one of those insufferable Bingo Hall losers who think the world of hardcore wrestling belongs to them and only them. What him and his ilk fail to realize is that a man like Batista is just better at everything.
Phillips: Each table that Spike goes through takes a massive toll, too. It's going to get harder and harder for him to fight his way back into this.
The UWF Universe is screaming at Batista now, booing the ever loving heck out of the MCU star. He takes a short moment to pause and stare out around the arena. At last year's event, he was doing battle in Tinsel Town, but this year, he's live and present to take in the vitriol of some seventy-thousand strong first-hand. Boo's or cheer's, it doesn't matter to him. The attention and the noise translate to the only language he cares about, and that's the language of money. He doesn't see sneering faces, just paying customers fixated on him.
Spike, meanwhile, is curled up and clutching his ribs on the floor. Batista pries him apart like an oyster, hauls him to his feet, and the hastily drives him into the barricade with a shoulder thrust that exacerbates the damage already done. Spike sits out a mouthful of blood on impact, which Big Dave then wipes off his shoulder in abject disgust.
Spurred on by that sentiment, and seeing virtually no resistance from his foe now, Batista puts the minimal effort into carrying Dudley around the perimeter of the squared circle towards another table - this one set up by the entrance ramp's "good guy tag team" corner.
There's no attempt at a Batista Bomb this time - not when Spike put up such a fuss on that last one. No, instead, Big Dave grabs him by the tights and the scruff of the neck and just callously tosses him clean through, smashing the thing to smithereens in the process.
SCORE AT 22:12
BATISTA: 3
DUDLEY: 0
Spike is blinking up at the lights in a semi-concussed haze while Batista towers over him. It's like somebody just let the air out of the arena, too, with the booing crowd going real quiet in a flash as the writing appears on the wall. This one might be over already.
Graves: I believe this is the first Ironman Tables match in company history. It might also be the first shut-out we've seen in an Ironman match. There goes Batista, making history all over again.
Ranallo: At this point, the only limit to his score might be the amount of tables he get find to put Spike through, I'm afraid.
Of course, Batista sets his sites on the last remaining table that's set up by the ring. He grabs Spike by the ankle and drags him in that direction with as much disrespect as he can possibly muster. The sensation of having his body scraped across the arena floor stirs Dudley out of his stupor, and he claws and grabs for something - anything - to stave off the inevitable. Unfortunately, the apron curtain and floor mats simply slip through his fingers and in mere moments, Batista has him near that fourth table.
Spike sits up and clings on to Batista's leg, less concerned about dignity than self preservation. Batista tries to shake him off to no avail, and so has to bend over and club the guy off instead. A pair of blows from his gigantic forearms do the trick, loosening Dudley off and setting him up for another execution.
As Batista hoists Spike up, though, the Ultimate Underdog has the wherewithal to kick out the leg of the table so that the whole thing bends out and topples over. An annoyed Hollywood Animal flares his nostrils and tosses his enemy aside so he can set it up again. While he's doing so, however, Spike digs deep, finds another gear and launches into action, tackling Big Dave from behind and driving him face-first into the nearest turnbuckle post!
Phillips: Spike strikes back!
Ranallo: This ain't over yet, folks!
The clocks ticks past the twenty minute mark while Batista staggers away, a cut on his forehead spewing out blood from where it met the steel. Spike collapses after expending the effort, and a lesser man might stay down to lick their wounds. Its the roar of the crowd that gets him back up again - the will of the people that have stuck by his side and cheered him on as a pro wrestler even though he's the farthest thing from a Hulk Hogan or Dwayne Johnson.
The People's Underdog grits his teeth and gets back to work. There's a lot of ground to cover, too. Chasing after Batista, he blasts the Final Boss across the spine with a pair of forearms clubs that send the guy stumbling into the wall around the timekeeper's area. Batista's hung up on that barrier by the crooks of his arms, and gets driven clean through it by a dropkick courtesy of Dudley!
Chimel and the timekeeper scurry away as the wreckage spills out all over the place. Blood begins to pool around Batista's face from where it's pasted against the floor. The mere scent of it is enough to keep Spike going, even though the simple act of sitting up again sends shockwaves through his body, courtesy those dinged-up ribs.
Fighting through the pain, Spike pulls the much larger man off the ground so he can guide him over towards the commentary tables. He does the team there the courtesy of waving them off on approach so they have time to skeddadle.
Ranallo: I think that's our cue, gentlemen...
Phillips: Yep. Here comes trouble!
Graves: Stay away from us you little Runt! We're trying to work here!
Spike doesn't bother clearing off the covering or notepads or monitors as he splays out Big Dave on the surface of the commentary table. He keeps his opponent lying prone there with a few more stiff shots to that cut-up forehead, then sets his eyes back on the squared circle.
Just that glance stirs the fans into a feeding frenzy. They're out of their seats, clapping and shouting as Dudley limps his way over the apron. Rolling under the ropes back on to the canvas, Spike then uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet en route to the a turnbuckle.
The Ultimate Underdog scales the rungs one at a time, laboured breaths from a crushed torso filling the spaces in between beleaguered steps up. Soon, he arrives at the peak. Without a hint of hesitation, he jumps off, looking to crush Batista through the table with a Dudley Stomp!
Ranallo: MAMA MIA! AIR DUDLEY!
Phillips: SPIKE GOES FOR BROKE!
Yeah, he goes for broke and gets exactly that. Batista rolls out of the way just in time for Spike to send himself and only himself through that table. Dang.
SCORE AT 17:32
BATISTA: 4
DUDLEY: 0
Devastation - not just at the scene of the crime, but in the eyes and hearts of all the fans in attendance and watching around the world. Batista's still down and out, but he survived getting a point counted against him, and whatever juice Spike had just got squeezed out upon collision.
To make matters worse, The Miz and Goldust come running down the ramp!
Phillips: Oh no! Not these two!
Graves: Spike Dudley messed with the Guild's dressing room and attacked them in cold blood backstage. If they want a little comeuppance, you can't blame 'em!
Batista's goons circle the ring on either side and converge on Spike, peppering him with a bunch of stomps to tenderize the meat before tossing him into the ring. Goldie checks on Batista, who just waves him on and tells him to get to work while he recuperates. The Miz, meanwhile, collects that fourth table that never got busted up before and slides it under the bottom rope, then climbs in with it.
"HEY MIZ!" Goldust shouts mockingly, "GET THE TABLES."
Boy oh boy, do the fans not like that. They're foaming at the mouth as Miz sets up the table in the center of the ring. Goldust then brings Spike to his feet as the Guild fellas position themselves to punish the guy with a 3-D.
Before such a travesty of justice can be executed, however...
YER, WE'RE COMING DOWN
GET UP, GET UP, GET UP
DROP THE BOMBSHELL.
The place comes un friggin glued upon the arrival of the tag team legends. Bubba and Devon storm the ramp at breakneck speed, barreling down at a full sprint surprising for men their size. Miz and Goldust abandon their satirical assault, leaving both the table and Spike in the ring while they head for the hills. They're halfway over the barricade when the Dudley Boyz catch up to them, and the brawl instantly spills into the crowd.
Devon is teeing off on Goldust, just battering the shiny pervert with haymakers. Miz, meanwhile, has his hands full and then some with the former Global Title contender in Bubba Ray Dudley. The Bully isn't shy about taking some of the fans' snacks and using them as foreign objects against the Awesome One.
Ranallo: This match is going to hell in a handbasket as we approach the halfway mark and I wouldn't have it any other way!
Phillips: If Batista and his goons wanna get down and dirty, they're gonna get that and then some with the Dudleyz!
Graves: Are we seriously supposed to call the rest of this show without a table? Can we get a replacement out here or what?
Ranallo: Maybe we should hold off on that until the match is over, Corey.
All the ruckus gets Batista's attention and brings him to his feet. He's looking around at the riotous fans and his two thugs getting beat up out in the sea of people. It's taking a little to long to process, and in that moment of inactivity, he leaves himself exposed to attack.
Spike Dudley somehow flings his body over the ropes to land right on top of the Hollywood Animal, who, unlike earlier, isn't anywhere close to prepared to catch him. Both men crash into the floor in a heap, but don't stay there long. Battered, bruised and bloodied as they are, there's too much adrenaline in their veins to keep them down.
Batista is up first. He grabs Spike by the wrist to take control but Dudley actually manages to counter. They're both pretty off balance from all the recent head trauma, so the Ultimate Underdog is able to Irish whip his foe towards the barricade. Batista spills over into the crowd and Spike follows after him to join the fighting out there.
Graves: We need security STAT!
Ranallo: I say let them fight! No better place to settle scores than Wrestlemania!
Devon and Goldust are still going at it while Miz and Bubba's donnybrook gets lost in the crowd. Batista is stumbling away from Dudley, wiping blood from his eyes as he makes his way towards and then up a flight of stairs to get out of the lower bowl and up to the next floor of the arena.
Spike is in hot pursuit. With his left hand wrapped around his injured ribs and his right hand gripping the stair railing to help himself along, the spunky superstar follows the trail of blood dripping off of his foe up the steps. Batista reaches the top of the landing before even bothering to look back over his shoulder. When he does, he sees that Dudley is gaining ground. Rather than stick around to confront him, the Feature Presentation shoves his way past the congregation fans and meddlesome security guards surrounding him as he finds his way through one of the concrete portals to reach the outer halls of the arena.
The Ultimate Underdog is just steps behind as the combatants leave the arena proper behind. Fortunately, a brave camera operator has kept up with them, so the fans still in their seats - as well as those watching at home around the world - can see the action continue to unfold on the screens.
Now standing out in the hallway, Batista stops to take a break. That proves to be a mistake. Spike tackles him from behind and they crash into a nearby concession stand, sending foot-long hot dogs and over-priced fountain drinks spilling all over the place. The vendors flee for their lives while Spike grabs a canister of plastic utensils and throws it at the back of Big Dave's bald dome.
Moreso than injure him, that just pisses the Hollywood Animal off. He turns around, eyes practically red-tinged with pure hatred. Spike isn't backing down, though. They run at each other and comes to blows and soon spill over the wreckage further into the hallway. After rolling around for a few seconds, Spike comes out in top position, mounting Batista, who tilts his head back and sees a whole lot of tables in an atrium up ahead.
Ranallo: These two just hit the mother load!
Phillips: They've got merch tables a plenty, more concession stands and what looks to be something of a cafeteria set up in there!
Graves: At a glance, I'd say there's twenty, maybe twenty-five?
Phillips: That's gonna give Spike the opportunity he needs to even things up!
Batista doesn't see opportunity there, however, only peril. Each table represents a hope for his opponent, and the Final Boss would rather just sit comfy with the lead he's got. The giant shoves Spike off with a palm to the face, stands up, and looks around frantically at the crowd gathering near the action. He wipes some blood from his brow and makes a bold offer through heavy breaths...
I.. will give... anyone who breaks... a table... ten... thousand... dollars!
He points ahead to the atrium. At first the fans seem skeptical, but when that crazed look in Batista's eyes proves enough to convince one person to go for it, the rest follow like a mindless mob.
It starts with a drunk fan throwing himself clean through a table while a family of five is trying to eat some snacks there. Next, an underpaid worker flips their own merch table over and proceeds to stomp it into pieces. Their neighboring vendor picks up the heaviest box of shirts they can find and slams it through the table, buckling the surface with easy.
Bedlam ensues. It's anarchy. Folks of all shapes, sizes, ages, angles, creeds and colours are trashing the scene. Security rushes in to break it up, but even some of them are looking to cash in by smashing a table or two. Batista watches the scene unfold with a demented smile on his face while Spike looks on dismayed. He needed those tables in the worst kind of way.
The sound of pitter-pattering boots on cement catches the Underdog's attention and he turns to find Batista stumbling away down the hall in the other direction, no doubt looking for more recruits to demolish every table left on the property.
Ranallo: Batista implementing the scorched earth strategy now. If he has his druthers, there won't be a table left in the city by the time that timer times out!
Graves: Can you believe that out of all the tables that got smashed around the ring, they never even got to the Spanish Commentary one?
Spike spits out of mouthful of blood from some lingering internal damage then goes back to chasing Batista down. Big Dave peeps over his shoulder and catches his enemy and the rearview, an so veers right and barges through a locked door.
Dudley trails him into a private box, where some rich folks have shuddered themselves off from the neckbearded plebs and filthy casuals to watch the even in isolated peace. They gasp in horror when the action lands on their front yard. Spike looks out through the window facing the arena and sees the clock passing the ten minute mark, filling him with a renewed sense of urgency. Batista, meanwhile, is still hellbound on busting tables.
In one corner of the room there's a buffet set up. Big Dave rushes over and picks up a lady, who, jeepers creepers, looks to be pregnant! Like he cares! The Hollywood Animal powerslams her clean through the dinner spread, giving Spike one less option. The crafty Dudley spies a glass coffee table by some sofas nearby. He scoops it up and tosses it at Batista, who dives out of harms way just in time! The thing smashes on the wall above his head, and the Final Boss crawls through the shower of broken glass to get back to the door and out into the hallway again.
Polite to a fault, Spike takes a second to apologize to the fans before continuing his endless hunt. He soon finds Batista again, this time trying to escape in an elevator. The movie star sees Spike seeing him and hammers on the "door close" button, but as well all know, those things never work fast enough. Dudley has just enough time to sprint over and slide into the lift before the way is shut. Although the cameraman loses them at this point, the production truck manages to pick up a security video feed from inside the elevator, and shows that footage on the titantron.
Batista and Spike duke it out in the eight-by-eight box while it descends to the bowels of the building. Dudley grabs his enemy by the ears and batters his head into the crowd like it's a pizza dough that needs some kneading. The Feature Presentation shoves him back then throws a wild haymaker. It goes wide and leaves a significant dent in the side wall of the lift, jerking their ride with a scary lurch. Both men look up, worried for just a split second that it might all come tumbling down. When it doesn't, they go right back to brawling until they reach their destination.
Phillips: This fight is going all over the building! Maybe EC3 should have booked them in a cage match instead.
Graves: I think the loser should have to foot the bill for the damages.
An especially on-the-ball camera operator beats the boys to the punch and catches the action as it comes spilling out to the underbelly of the arena. Spike and Batista come out of the elevator into the typical backstage setting, with black road crates lining the concrete walls under florescent lighting.
The Ultimate Underdog locks up with Big Dave, who counters by slamming him headlong into the elevator door as it closes behind them. Batista then goes to collect the crumpled Runt, picking him, bending him over, and then picking him up some more to set him up for another brutal finisher.
Ranallo: Oh no... I don't like the looks of this. A Batista Bomb on that unforgiving concrete floor would surely spell the end for Spike Dudley!
Graves: Batista's already way up on the score cards. All he needs to do now is put his opponent out of commission and it's game over.
Phillips: Spike is running out of time to make a comeback, too. We're down to seven-and-a-half minutes left.
Batista flips Spike up on to his shoulders to deliver his most dangerous maneuver. This is it. The finale. That punctuation mark.
Except also it isn't because Spike slips off down the back! Before Big Dave can even turn around, Dudley grabs his head from behind and then makes a run at a nearby road crate, using that thing to propel himself upwards before brining down his rival face-first into the cold hard floor with a mother effing DUDLEY DOG!
A wave of blood splashes out on impact when the movie star's money maker meets gets mushed. Spike rolls off the murderized Batista, wincing like he's never winced before as he pops one of ribs back into place. Yuck. He lies there for a while, trying to fill his lungs with air with shallow breathes but not having much luck, staring up at the glaring lights wondering if the pain is even worth it anymore.
But it is. Of course it is. And you don't get a reputation like Spike Dudley has carved out for himself by lying down and taking a beating - you get it by getting up and going tougher than the tough going when the going gets tough. So with a hefty groan, The Ultimate Underdog sits up, and then stands tall, and then hauls Batista's carcass up and drapes it over that road crate and mumbles to himself...
Next stop... catering....
With a mighty push, he rolls that crate with Batista on top off in the direction of catering, where a sea of tables await.
Despite his busted up body, the Ultimate Underdog musters up the gusto to navigate the crate and his opponent down the cement passages of the backstage area with the break neck speed of a Hot Wheel. Is that the singular of Hot Wheels? Or does the singular still have the "s" on account of cars have four of them anyway? Who's to say? The time for questions is over. Spike Dudley has booked a one-way ticket to Answer Town and he's looking to get there by lunch.
Batista's doneski. He's all splayed out atop the crate like a hunted-and-shot eight-point buck strapped to the back of a Ford F150, tongue hanging loose out of his slack jaw.
Crew members doddling around doing Gord knows what at this point in the show are forced to jump out of harm's way as Spike and his cargo careen past. There's no time to brake for anyone, nor time to slow down for corners. The clock is ticking now with just five minutes left for Spike to wrangle up some tables and start racking up some points.
Ranallo: It's a long way to catering, but I know better than to doubt the heart and soul of Spike Dudley.
Graves: How the hell does he even know where he's going? It's a maze back there. You know how many times a year I get texts from Phillips begging me to come find him because he got lost backstage?
Phillips: That only happened twice!
Yes, the guts of the arena are a rat's nest of intertwining hallways with arterial detours tempting one to veer off on some fool's odyssey every twenty feet or so. But Spike stays true to his course by sticking with the oldest trick in the book - following his nose, and sure enough, before long, it pays off.
C A T E R I N G
There's a big old sign hung above a door at the far end of a loading dock area. Probably this is where the Caterer's load in the meals from. About a hundred meters of cavernous warehouse are all that stands between Spike and his destination of a plethora of tables to slam his foe through. He manages a hopeful grin as he puts all his might into pushing the crate the rest of the -
SIDESWIPED BY A MOTHER EFFING FORKLIFT~!
Its comes outta nowhere! Like Bison rolling up an unawares Ryu in a semi at the end of the Street Fighter 2 animated movie, so to does The Miz appear from hammerspace to t-bone our hero and the package with a forklift, crossing stevadore union lines as he does so and also making a mockery of the United States Forklift Certification Program by operating the machinery without the proper licensing.
Ranallo: Its The Miz! The Miz with a forklift!
Phillips: What? How'd he get back here?
Graves: I lost sight of the Guild a few minutes back. They must have finished off the Dudley Boyz!
The two forks rip through the side of the crate like viper fangs and yank if from Spike's grasp. The sheer force of contact knocks Dudley aside. Miz slams on the brakes and Batista rolls off the road crate - not a graceful come down, but the objective was to stop Spike at all costs and brother, it worked.
Further on down the line, Goldust comes over with a blowtorch and begins to weld the door to catering shut. Where he got the tools to do so doesn't matter, cause its happening, and a devastated Spike Dudley looks up in horror realizing that all hope may be lost now.
Once he's done, Goldust rushes over and meets the Miz, who just finished checking up on Batista, who ordered his goons to go deal with Spike. The Guild members come at Dudley like vultures. Spike stands up on shaky legs ready to take them on, but they're in a lot better shape than him. Its not looking good.
Phillips: There aren't any tables left, Spike can't get to catering - now the Guild just want to add insult to injury.
Graves: Actually Phillips, I think they want to add injury to injury.
Spike puts up his dukes like he could do this all day. Just as Miz and Goldust are about to strike, though, the former gets blasted in the side of the face by some high-speed projectile, knocking him unconscious. Goldust wheels around to see where it came from and takes a second shot to the dome so that he goes out cold too. The culprit?
Stacy Keibler! The Duchess of Dudleyville is holding a t-shirt cannon and its smoking from the barrel. She's perched up on some scaffolding like a sniper, and from that vantage point, she's able to see the answer to all her man's problems. Yelling at her man to "LOOK OVER THERE", she points him in the direction of what might me the last stack of tables in the building that he can get to in time. They're on a pallet just around the bend.
Dudley blows his best gal a kiss then gets to work. He rushes over to where Batista is lying and stymies him with a Big Boot to the head to keep him woozy. He proceeds to load the Hollywood Animal on to the forks of the forklift and then hops into the driver's seat. Unlike Big Dave, Spike used to work in warehouses so he has all the certification he needs to get this job done the right way.
The fans watching up on the big screen get out of their seats and cheer while the ticker clicks into the dying minutes of this affair. Spike abandons the industry-standard safety precautions and puts pedal to floor as he speeds towards the stack of tables.
Phillips: There must be twenty tables in that pile! Spike could do actually win this!
Ranallo: But does he have time?
Pulling up to the stack, Spike puts 'er in park and then hoists Batista up before dumping him on top of the stack. There's no time to set up each table individually. Instead, Dudley just drops Big Dave on top of all of them and then presses down across his torso with the forks.
Dudley applies at the pressure the machine can muster!
The first table cracks and breaks under the weight of it!
SCORE AT 0:42
BATISTA: 4
DUDLEY: 1
Batista groans and spits out a gogurt tube's worth of blood from his mouth from the internal injuries as he forks drive him through the second layer.
SCORE AT 0:35
BATISTA: 4
DUDLEY: 2
The echo of the score being read aloud from the arena, as well as the threat of probably death stirs up a survival instinct in the Final Boss, who then latches on to the fork with both hands and pushes back to alleviate the downward pressure. Spike goes full throttle as the gears grind and smoke and sparks fly out from places they shouldn't. The third table creaks and gives way...
SCORE AT 0:16
BATISTA: 4
DUDLEY: 3
Batista lets out a sabretooth growl as Spike pushes down on the lever with both hands. The forklift wasn't built for this kind of resistance! It shudders and shakes as the clock hits the final countdown...
10...
9...
8...
Spike revs the engine, squeezing out all the juice it has left...
7...
6...
A tie to take this to overtime is all the Ultimate Underdog needs!
5...
4...
Batista's veins are damn near bursting as he fights back against the forklift!
3...
The table beneath the Hollywood Animal cracks...
2...
But the forklift engine explodes before the job can get done!
1...
FINAL SCORE
BATISTA: 4
DUDLEY: 3
DING DING
THE WINNER...
"THE HOLLYWOOD ANIMAL" BATISTA!
Spike collapses and rolls out of the now on-fire vehicle as paramedics and crew members rush towards the wreckage. They drag Dudley's body away as he swings at the air, scrappy till the bitter end, in a concussed denial about this fight being over now. Batista, meanwhile, is cynically busting out a very weezy laugh from beneath the fork crushing his chest, each heave of his lungs offering up another few cubic centimeters of blood from his insides.
Ranallo: Ma... ma... Mia... what a brutal encounter...
Phillips: Spike Dudley was as close as close can get to tying this up. We almost saw this go to overtime.
Graves: Frankly, I'm not sure either of these guys would have survived another second of this kind of warfare. Talk about pouring it all out.
Ranallo: And so once again, the Final Boss pulls out a big win at the Grandaddy of 'em All. Mania Season Batista is a different kind of beast, gentlemen.
Phillips: I may not respect his tactics, but there's no denying the results. Still, you gotta give it up for Spike Dudley, who once again showed the UWF Universe that it doesn't matter about the size of the dog in the fight - its the size of the fight in the dog.
Medical personal continue to congregate around this crime scene of a match. Stacey climbs down from her sniper post to be console Spike. Miz and Goldust dow the same for Batista. Wrestlemania XII rolls on!
The camera would cut to Tommaso Ciampa sitting backstage in a chair; looking at the ground he would have his hands clasped. He would be mumbling something to himself, a prayer, a mantra, a focus. It could be all or none of these.
Renee Young: Ciampa, sorry to disturb but do you have a moment to talk.
Looking up at Renee, Ciampa wouldn't seem annoyed or angry, just neutral. Patting a seat next to him, Renee would sit down.
Ciampa: Yeah sure Renee, I got time.
Making herself comfortable in the chair, Renee would begin.
Renee Young: Good evening UWF Fans, if you're just joining us then welcome to Wrestlemania. I'm sitting here with Tommaso Ciampa who in the next few minutes will find out his future. How are you feeling, Ciampa?
A smirk would cross Ciampa’s face.
Ciampa: To tell you the truth Renee, I'm a mix of emotions. Part of me says I'm right for making this match and the other part calls me an idiot for putting my career on the line but at the end of the day there's no turning back now, I need to go out there and face the music and this might be my last song or another part of the concert.
Nodding, Renee would continue.
Renee Young: I'm shocked to be honest that DDP isn't here with you?
Shaking his head, Ciampa would talk.
Ciampa: Well as you know he didn't exactly agree with me doing this and he didn't want any part of it so while we're still tight on a personal level and he said he was rooting for me, our professional relationship is over.
Renee would nod.
Renee Young: Do you think he feels slightly guilty?
Again Ciampa would shrug.
Ciampa: He might be a bit but I've told him not to. I got myself into this situation and ultimately it's down to me to get out of it.
Looking back at Renee, Ciampa would wait for her to talk.
Renee Young: Well I guess I better ask the question everyone is wondering: what's next for Tommaso Ciampa.
Chucking, Ciampa would rub his chin.
Ciampa: Now that's the million dollar question. What do I do with myself. My whole life for the past two years has been the UWF and its been a good time. Feuded with some of the best on offer, retired a couple of people Prime Time Medal and then my Goldie.
If it ends here tonight then so be it but I'm not going to give Sami Zayn an easy match, not by a long shot, he wants to take away my career then he's going to need to fight for it and I'm going to make it the fight of his life.
Lowering the mic, Ciampa would breathe.
Renee Young: Well Ciampa, for what could be the last time, it's been great talking to you.
Ciampa would stick out a hand for a handshake but Renee would give him a hug and leave him to prepare. Ciampa goes back to his chair to say his mantra.
The UWF Wrestlemania graphic flashes across the screen before we are shown an establishing shot of a hosital with overlaid text:
University of Washington Medical Center
March 31, 2023
We're taken inside the hospital, to a room where two men are laid up, one on a machine for medically assisted breathing while the other is resting. Bronson Steiner is at their bedside, and as the camera gets closer, it's clear he's attending to his father and uncle, laid low in a vicious assault by the Bristol-Born Bastard at Rebellion. A doctor walks in and looks over the charts, then checks in on Rick. Bronson raises a hand to speak to him.
BRONSON STEINER
'scuse me, Doc.
The doctor turns to face Steiner. He already seems unimpressed.
DR. JEONG
Can I help you?
Steiner shrugs.
I guess that depends on what news you have to give me. Will the two of them be all right?
The doc strokes his chin.
Well, this one – Rick – he should be awake soon. His injuries weren't so severe, but it looks like someone tried to strangle him with a metal chain? The other one, however, sustained some serious internal and exterior wounds consistent with blunt force trauma. I had been hoping to speak to someone about them, because I'm very curious what kind of activities might've led to an absolute bludgeoning like this in a patient.
Steiner looks at once concerned and pissed off.
We're wrestlers. All of us. A family of them. They're the Steiner Brothers, maybe you've heard of 'em?
The Doctor's eyebrow arches.
No, I can't say I have, but from the sounds of it they've got good, paying careers or once had them. I hope so, or at least, I hope the two of them have very good insurance. This hospital is state of the art. Top of the line. And it's not cheap. Especially not for the work we had to do on Scott over there just to stabilize him. When he first came in, it looked like he might have 2 and 2/3rds a chance of making Sacrifice–
Bronson rolls his eyes.
I see what you're doing, Doc, and frankly, it's insulting. Do you always crack jokes about people who are laid up and seriously injured?
Dr. Jeong laughs.
As a matter of fact, I do, and will continue to do long after this conversation because I'm too set in my ways.
With that said, the doctor just leaves. Pan back to Steiner.
What an assho-
The feed moves on.
As Wrestlemania returns to the ring, things are set up for the next contest with weapons like light tubes and such galore.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is a Deathmatch with Tommaso Ciampa’s career on the line! Introducing first…
The funky beat of Walk The Moon's "Headphones" plays and the crowd starts to boo as it means the arrival of the current? World Tag Team Champion Sami Zayn. He has the title in his hands and dances with it on the stage. He ends up calming down a bit but still walks with some swagger down the ramp, swinging his belt around like he's got a big one.
Tony Chimel: From Montreal Quebec, Canada, weighing in at 212 pounds, The Dynamic Sami Zayn!!
Sami slides into the ring and continues to dance around with his belt much to the chagrin of the paying audience. Sami walks over and makes sure to show it off to all the fans before preparing for the match.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent…
As the theme of Tommaso Ciampa begins to play, the man himself is seen coming through the crowd, a serious and focused look on his face, his fiery eyes staring holes through his opponent as he walks through the sea of fans.
Tony Chimel: From Boston, Massachusetts. Weighing in at two hundred and one pounds. He is the, “Psycho Killer”, Tommaso Ciampa!
Ciampa steps over the barricade and stands at ringside for a moment, his eyes still fixated on Sami Zayn. Ciampa enters the ring now as the bell sounds again.
DING DING!
As the ring bell sounds, Sami and Ciampa begin to circle one another, Sami with a cocky smirk on his face as Ciampa has one of seriousness as his intense gaze at his opponent hasn’t broken since he started making his way out. The two men stop and move toward one another, appearing to go for a lock-up but Zayn slaps Ciampa across the face and then the circling resumes. Ciampa’s expression still hasn’t changed despite the disrespectful attack while Sami has a smile a mile wide about it. The two men stop and lunges at each other again as Sami goes for another slap but Ciampa smacks his hand away and connects with a Headbutt. The fans cheer as Tommaso connects with Headbutt after Headbutt, gradually backing Zayn across the ring until Sami finds himself with his back to the ropes. Ciampa winds back for a Headbutt with extra force but as he does, Sami stomps on his feet, then grabs him by the beard and leaps over the top rope clear to the floor as Tommaso is pulled down and hits the apron on the way, now finding himself on the ground at Sami’s feet. Zayn reaches down and goozles his opponent with one hand, then does so with the other hand as he hoists Ciampa up, choking him for a moment before doing a sort of Biel Throw towards the announce table as Ciampa hits the top of it and rolls toward the announce team as they all stand up and move out of the way. Zayn grabs one of the monitors and pulls it free as he circles the announce table and, as Ciampa gets up, he swings it downward and blasts him in the top of the head with it, knocking Tommaso back down. Sami throws the monitor down now and grabs Ciampa, pulling him to a vertical base before throwing him over the announce table back to the other side. Sami circles the table again but as he does, he’s blasted with a different monitor as he himself is now on the ground as Ciampa walks over and drops the monitor, turning Zayn over and beginning to choke him out with some of the cable.
Sami is trying his best to pry the cable away from his throat as Ciampa is pulling back as hard as he can. A chant of, “Ciampa’s gonna kill you!” starts up as the struggle continues. As Zayn starts to fade, Tommaso lets up, releasing the cable and standing up as he watches Sami clutching at his throat and coughing. Ciampa now grabs two fistfuls of hair on the top of Sami’s head, pulling him to a vertical base as he lets go of his hair, looks at him for a moment, then open hand slaps Sami as hard as he can, following up with an Irish Whip into the ring post, moving quickly as he gets his leg up to deliver a Big Boot to the back of the head right as Sami hits the post. As Sami falls, Ciampa catches Zayn and delivers a Dragon Suplex into the announce table as Sami is folded up on impact before his legs fall to the side and he rolls to the floor. Sami gets up holding the back of his neck as Ciampa spins him around and goes for another Headbutt but Sami beats him to it and connects with a Headbutt of his own. Zayn follows up with another Headbutt, then goes low and drives his head into the abdomen of his opponent as Tommaso visibly has the wind knocked out of him. Sami peels away the padding on the floor now and delivers a kick to the abdomen for good measure, then delivers a Diamond Cutter onto the concrete. Ciampa starts getting up immediately as he gets up on his forearms and starts to climb up to his feet but Zayn puts him down with a Curb Stomp. Tommaso puts his hands flat now and starts pushing up with his arms, then gets his feet under him and stands up, blocking a punch from Sami as he spits blood in his eyes. As Sami clutches at his eyes, Ciampa delivers a kick to the stomach, then follows up with a Double Arm DDT, spiking Sami as hard as he can into the concrete.
Ciampa gets up and starts searching the ringside area for weaponry as he spots a dart board with several darts in it lying in a shopping cart. He grabs the dart board and removes the darts, clutching them in one hand as he holds the board in the other. Zayn gets up and shakes off the daze, then starts looking around for Ciampa. As Sami spots him, Tommaso throws the dart board like a frisbee at him as Sami sidesteps but it was a distraction as Ciampa throws dart after dart in quick succession as each one sticks into different parts of Sami’s left leg from near the ankle up to his thigh. As Sami goes to remove the first dart, Tommaso grabs the cart and starts pushing it towards Zayn, knocking him down as Ciampa sees what else is in the cart. While he’s looking, Sami has managed to slip behind him as he hits him in the back of the head with his forearm and flips Ciampa into the cart then pushes it as fast as he can into the steel steps, knocking the steps apart and tipping the cart over as the contents as well as Ciampa fall out. As Zayn approaches, he spots what appears to be a stun rod as he grabs it and turns it on, touching it to the bare flesh of his opponent as Tommaso starts convulsing.
Tom Phillips: This is taking it too far!
Mauro Ranallo: You’re messing with a man’s heartbeat, Sami!
Corey Graves: Hey, the stipulation was Ciampa’s idea!
Sami stops electrocuting Ciampa after an uncomfortable amount of time and throws the stun rod down, then brings his opponent to a vertical base. Zayn delivers a kick straight to the “Psycho Killer”’s little killer as Ciampa now falls to his knees. Sami flips off the wincing Ciampa with both hands and maintains it for a moment before kicking his opponent in the face, knocking Ciampa onto his back. Zayn reaches down and grabs Ciampa now and puts Ciampa’s head between his legs but it’s then that Ciampa reverses and raises up, now holding Zayn in Alabama Slam position as he drops him onto the shopping cart. As Zayn lies there, Tommaso starts putting the boots to his chest and abdomen before delivering one to the face. Ciampa then gets two fistfuls of Sami’s hair and violently pulls him to a vertical base, delivering a Headbutt before putting Sami’s head between his legs and delivering a Buckle Bomb into the ringside barricade and following up with a Black Hole Slam as Sami staggers towards him. Ciampa looks down at his agonized opponent and then starts surveying the area around the ring again. Tommaso sees a table full of things on one side of the ring and goes over to it, grabbing a particular item with delight as he returns to where Sami is. The weapon in question is known to UWF hardcore enthusiasts the world over to have done some gnarly damage in the past, a pizza cutter, as Ciampa spins it with a crazed look in his eyes and on his face. Unfortunately for Sami Zayn, he picked that moment to start getting to his feet, his back to Ciampa who, in one quick slice, splits Sami’s t-shirt. Sami turns around angrily but then his expression changes once he sees the weapon as he quickly removes what’s left of the shirt, balls it up, and throws it at Ciampa who smacks it away with his free hand and lunges and takes a swipe at Sami, cutting him on the chest. Sami winces as Ciampa lunges again but Sami sidesteps and connects with a kick to the solar plexus as Tommaso visibly has the wind knocked out of him and drops the weapon. Zayn grabs it and places it in a hole in the steel of the shopping cart and quickly grabs his opponent as he delivers a DDT right onto the pizza cutter!
Tom Phillips: I’m going to be sick!
Ciampa is left lying there with the blade of the pizza cutter just above his forehead, several streams of blood running at different angles down his face as Sami grabs the blade and, in one quick motion, runs it down the face of the, “Psycho Killer” before discarding it as he then grabs the handle from the cart and starts stabbing at the original wound to break more and more of the skin before jamming it in there one good time and maneuvering it around like he was mixing something. After a moment of this, Zayn lets up as he’s heard screaming audibly that Ciampa wanted this. Ciampa responds by flipping Sami off as he then puts his hands down at his sides and starts pushing himself up to his feet.
Tommaso grabs the remnants of Sami’s t-shirt and starts dabbing at the wound on his head and cut down his face to try and clean up and slow the bleeding as Zayn goes from watching in awe of Ciampa standing to complete rage as he goes for a Helluva Kick but Ciampa gets his leg up and they end up blasting each other simultaneously. As both men stir, they grab the first weapon they can get their respective hands on. Ciampa gets hold of a screwdriver and Zayn gets hold of a syringe as he jabs it into the head wound of his opponent and injects whatever is in it into Ciampa’s head as Ciampa falls onto his back and starts foaming at the mouth. Sami actually looks concerned as he checks on him but it’s all a ruse as Tommaso sits up and jabs the screwdriver into the stomach of UWF’s red headed stepchild.
Corey Graves: Good Lord! We haven’t seen someone get stabbed with a screwdriver since the ending of the Cage of Death between Kevin Steen and Jimmy Jacobs years ago!
Ciampa removes the screwdriver just as quickly as he stabbed Sami with it and immediately goes to stab him in the eye but Sami grabs his wrist with one hand, his other hand occupied covering the stab wound, as the two men struggle for power. Sami starts losing the struggle but then delivers a knee to the stomach, knocking the wind out of his opponent again and causing him to drop the screwdriver. Zayn is pissed off now as he grabs Ciampa and puts his head between Sami’s legs as he delivers a Blue Thunder Bomb onto the concrete! Zayn sits there now holding the stab wound, taking a moment to regroup as Ciampa lies there breathing heavily.
Sami is up to his feet and has his eyes peeled for some weaponry. He sees a box of light tubes propped up in one of the corners of the ringside barricade and heads over to them as he starts removing them one by one and setting them up like a table. Once all of them are out of the box and his structure is complete, he turns to go after Ciampa who is standing there with, of all things, an oversized t-shirt gun. As Sami laughs at this, suddenly a billiard ball is launched from it as he gets hit in the stomach, then in the head a few times, then each knee, and finally the nose as Ciampa throws it down and charges Sami, connecting with a Shotgun Dropkick that sends him through the light tubes!
Tommaso grabs Sami by the ankles and drags him through the broken fragments now before bringing him to a vertical base and doing an Irish Whip into the nearest ring post. As Zayn lies there in a daze, Ciampa eyes something that isn’t a weapon necessarily but more a contraption. It’s a steel bed frame with barbed wire woven through it. He looks at Sami and then back at this bed frame and again brings Sami back to a vertical base. When he does this time though, Zayn connects with a Headbutt and then slides into the ring. Ciampa shakes off the daze and goes to follow Zayn, but eyes a can of gasoline with a box of matches and can’t resist either as he pours the entire can on the bed frame and then strikes a match, setting it ablaze before climbing up onto the apron to re-enter the ring but it’s then that Sami Zayn blasts him with a Helluva Kick that sends Ciampa off the apron and through the fiery bed frame!
As UWF officials rush down to extinguish the situation, it’s seen that Sami has an ice skate on so that was no ordinary Helluva Kick. Officials help Ciampa up, who is bleeding profusely, as Sami performs a Suicide Dive onto everyone at ringside. Zayn gets up and pulls Ciampa up, rolling him into the ring and following in after. Sami applies the Koji Clutch as the referee calls for the bell as Ciampa is completely out of it.
DING DING DING!
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Sami Zayn!
A, “Fuck you, Sami!” chant starts as Sami Zayn revels in their hatred. As for Ciampa, it’s the end of an era and what an era it was. As medical officials help him out of the ring, Wrestlemania continues elsewhere.
As WrestleMania rolls on, we are taken backstage where interviewer Sarah Schraber is waiting. She's here to interview the man that may be leaving with the Prime Time Medal this evening. His name of course is L...A....Knight.
Sarah Schraber: Ladies and Gentlemen, my guest at this time, the man who will be challenging Kyle O'Reilly for the Prime Time Medal later this evening, please welcome LA Knight.
Knight saunters into the shot and greets Sarah with his usual introduction.
LA Knight: YEAH!
LA Knight: Well, Samantha...
Sarah: It's Sarah...
LA Knight: Thanks Samantha. Tonight is the night, and L...A....Knight isn't talking about a Black Eyed Peas song. What L...A...Knight is talking about is tonight is the biggest night of L...A....Knight's career. Tonight is the night L...A....Knight silences all the doubters. For months, L...A....Knight had to hear about how L...A....Knight couldn't win when it counted. Slammiversary, L...A....Knight failed. The Royal Rumble, L...A....Knight failed. And nobody has been more vocal about that then L...A....Knight's opponent tonight, "The Diabetic Douchebag" himself, Kyle O'Reilly.
The live arena pops as O'Reilly's name is mentioned. LA Knight hears them and turns his attention to the UWF Universe momentarily.
LA Knight: Shut up, dummies! 'Ya see, Kyle O'Reilly has done a lot of talking as of late. Nobody cares that Kyle O'Reilly is a great technician in that ring. Nobody cares that Kyle O'Reilly can make a man submit a dozen different ways. That means nothing to L...A....Knight. L...A...Knight is UWF's hottest attraction. He is the "Million Dollar Megastar" for a reason. When the lights get bright, L...A....Knight shines. And the lights don't get any brighter than WrestleMania. And 'ya know what they say, Samantha...
Sarah: I'm not even going to correct you this time.
LA Knight: That's right! They say you can't spell WrestleMania without L...A. So in a little while, L....A....Knight is going to go to that ring, look Kyle O'Reilly straight in the eye, slap the lips off his face and send him into obscurity courtesy of a one way ticket on the Gravy Train. And then, he'l know what L...A....Knight has known since day one. When it comes to Kyle O'Reilly versus L...A....Knight, Kyle doesn't quite measure up.
LA Knight: And even better than humbling Not So Cool Kyle, L...A....Knight gets to shut up all the dummies out there that doubt him. And in the process, L...A....Knight gets to take the most important thing in Kyle's world. Tonight, L...A....Knight makes his mark. Tonight, L...A....Knight puts his name in the history books. And tonight, L...A....Knight starts his journey to becoming 'ya next Intercontinental Champion. Kyle O'Reilly has been walking around with that medal for months, ever since he beat that roided up meathead Batista. And he has done absolutely nothing with it. Has he even defended it one time? L...A....Knight is going to end Kyle's pathetic run as Prime Time Medal holder. The Medal leaves tonight with L...A....Knight, and if Kyle's sister is lucky, so will she.
There's a collective groan from the live audience. LA Knight will not let this go.
LA Knight: Excuse me, Samantha. L...A....Knight has a douchebag to beat and a Medal to officially make Prime Time. YEAH!!!
LA Knight walks off and leaves Sarah standing there as WrestleMania rolls on.