From
CURRENT CHAMPIONS
MAYHEM
WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION: Sabu
defeated The Rock and Shawn Michaels in
last defense: defeated Sting on April 5, 1999
successful defenses: 1
WORLD TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS: Test & Hakushi
defeated The Rock & Sabu in
last defense: defeated Sandman & Rey Mysterio Jr. on April 19, 1999
successful defenses: 4
UNITED STATES TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS: Team Angle
defeated Danny Doring & Roadkill in
last defense: defeated Billy Gunn & X-Pac on April 11, 1999
successful defenses: 1
INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION: VACANT
Vacated when Chris Jericho was traded to Adrenaline on April 19, 1999
CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPION: VACANT
To be decided in Six Man Mayhem match at Redemption on April 28, 1999
ADRENALINE
UNITED STATES CHAMPION: “Nature Boy” Ric Flair [2]
defeated Randy Savage in
last defense: defeated Sandman on March 28, 1999
successful defenses: 1
WORLD TELEVISION CHAMPION: Michael Modest
defeated Curt Hennig in
last defense: defeated D’Lo Brown on April 19, 1999
successful defenses: 1
* HARDCORE CHAMPION: Mike Awesome
defeated Perry Saturn in
last defense:
successful defenses: 0
CONFIRMED MATCHES FOR TONIGHT
World Heavyweight Title Match
Sabu vs. Owen Hart
Grudge Match: “Rowdy Roddy’s Rules”
Chris Jericho vs. Curt Hennig
Team Angle vs. New Jack & Partner of His Choice
World TV Title Match
Michael Modest vs. Opponent TBD
[FADE IN to a WIDE SHOT of the arena.]
The setup is exactly the same as the first night of the draft, with a podium set up just to the right of the ramp leading to the ring. The fans are roaring, as fireworks shoot off from the rigging above the ring. As the smoke clears, we ZOOM IN to the ring, where Joey Styles is standing in the center of the squared circle.
Styles: Hello everyone, and WELCOME to Night Two of the CWF Draft, live from the Delta Center in Salt Lake City! [fans applaud the blatant yet effective cheap pop] We’ve got a great lineup of matches tonight, courtesy of my new boss Roddy Piper, but we’re also here to see the draft conclude… yes, after tonight, the CWF truly will be a house divided! Once again we have team coverage of this draft. With that, allow me to turn things over to Jim Ross.
[CUT] to Jim Ross standing in a large office, presumably located somewhere backstage in the
JR: Hello folks, this is good ole JR coming to you live from the Mayhem war room. I’ll be providing updates all night as the final 16 rounds of this draft take place. I’ll also have an exclusive interview with Commissioner Hennig later in the night, where he promises to give plenty of information about the card for Mayhem’s pay-per-view event, Redemption. With that, let’s go to my old pal the King.
[CUT] to Jerry Lawler, standing in another office backstage. There’s a big draft board in the background but unlike the graphs and data in the Mayhem war room, everything in this office appears to be hand-written.
Lawler: This is the King, and I’m here in Roddy Piper’s war room for Adrenaline. Roddy’s already made some bold moves in this draft, and I’ll try to take a look into the mind of the madman on several occasions tonight. Now let’s go to the Brain…
[CUT] to Bobby Heenan, standing in a large curtained-off area. All the undrafted personnel are sitting behind him in rows of chairs. Wrestlers and managers from both the CWF and SMW rosters can be seen. He gives an A-OK to the camera before speaking.
Heenan: Greetings humanoids! Bobby the Brain here from the draft pool room.
[CUT] to a slow pan of the seated wrestlers. As was the case Monday, allies and stable mates are sitting together. Chris Candido and Arn Anderson are conspicuously alone, with the rest of the Four Horsemen having been drafted. The Flock is clumped in one corner of the room, while the remaining members of DX are seated as far away from them as possible.
Heenan: Behind me, you see the collection of talent still waiting to have their names called in this draft. There’s even some ham-n-eggers here from Smoky Mountain Wrestling. A lot of great wrestlers still available for both shows… but one guy you won’t see here tonight is Vampiro. It turns out that Vampiro suffered a broken leg during Monday night’s main event between the DX and the Flock. Vampiro still can be drafted, but he’s going to be sidelined indefinitely. With that let’s go to the SECOND-best mind in wrestling, Paul Heyman…
[CUT] to Heyman, wearing his trademark baseball cap and lanyard containing a backstage pass. Heyman is standing in what appears to be the Utah Jazz’ locker room.
Heyman: This is Paul Heyman, coming to you live from the Mayhem locker room. We’ll be getting interviews with the talent drafted to that show tonight, as well as some of the men who were selected in the first half of this draft.
[CUT] to a pan of the locker room. Hostile Takeover are standing against the wall with their arms crossed. Test and Hakushi are seated, never taking their eyes off the big men. D’Lo Brown is in the far corner with his back to the entire room, slowly surveying the other wrestlers. Team Angle is clustered together. Kurt Angle is doing some stretches, while Haku is eating a foot-long sub sandwich. Flip is busy polishing the
Heyman: You’ll notice the Big Show is conspicuously absent. Even though Curt Hennig drafted the big man, he’s still on the suspended list. Guys, I’m hearing Hennig only drafted the Big Show to keep him away from the competition. Who knows when we’ll see the big man in action? Now, let’s go to Mean Gene.
[CUT] to Mean Gene, standing in what appears to be the opposing locker room in
Gene: All right, we are truly in the shank of this draft now. Sixteen rounds done, 16 to go and already this collection of individuals can call themselves members of Team Piper.
[CUT] to a pan of the Adrenaline locker room. It’s considerably emptier than the Mayhem locker room. Michael Modest is stretching for his TV Title defense. Chris Jericho is silently removing some items from his gym bag as he begins preparations for his match tonight. Mankind is in one corner, with Triple H in the other. Owen Hart stoically is taping his wrists, as he’s got a match tonight as well. Ric Flair and Mike Awesome predictably are seated together. Awesome has his newly won Hardcore Title on his lap and is admiring it.
Gene: You’ll notice a few faces are missing. Shawn Michaels is on the injured list, and former Hardcore Champion Saturn’s now joined him. Unfortunately Saturn tore a muscle in his back during that match with Brian Clarke. We certainly wish that competitor a speedy recovery. As for Sting, Jerry Lynn and Raven… well, right now, they are missing in action, despite Piper’s demand that all drafted talent be front and center by the beginning of tonight’s show. With that, let’s—
The Rock steps into view and jerks the microphone out of Mean Gene’s hand. Gene starts to speak but Rock sticks a hand in his face.
Rock: Do yourself a favor, Gene, and know your role, and shut your mouth! The Rock is here in his new home, live on Thursday nights! But… the Rock can’t help but notice someone’s not around. Where are you, Sting? Did you run out of face paint? Get caught up watching The Crow for the 976th time? Or are you afraid? That’s right, the Rock says you are AFRAID to face me tonight! Because Piper said we couldn’t fight in the building. But there’s not a damn thing that he can do if we fight out in the parking lot! The Rock is waiting, Sting. Waiting for you. Waiting… to bitch-slap you so hard you’ll land back in 1988! Bottom line, The Rock’s not going anywhere tonight… so just. Bring. It. If ya smelllllalalalalalaaa! What the Rock! Is… Cookin’…
Rock flips the microphone to the floor and strolls away. Gene scurries to pick it up.
Gene: Joey, back to you in the arena…
[CUT] back to the arena as Curt Hennig’s “Exodus” theme that he used in his Mr. Perfect persona starts up. The announcer turns to face the stage, shrugging in confusion.
[CUT] to a close-up of the stage, as Curt Hennig steps through the curtain. Hennig, once again, is resplendent in one of his three-piece suits. He has a big smirk on his face as he stares out at the fans, most of whom are booing him relentlessly, before he continues to the podium.
Hennig: Piper… I bet you’re pretty proud of yourself right now. Everyone’s talking about the way the first half of this draft ended, about the big trade we made… about how you used your final pick of the first day to take Shawn Michaels [the fans erupt with cheers at mention of HBK]… and how tonight… not only do I have to worry about filling out my roster… but tonight, I have a match with Chris Jericho.
The fans go CRAZY at the reminder of this match, and Hennig sneers at the reaction.
Hennig: And on top of that, it’s under Rowdy Roddy’s Rules! I don’t even know what the hell that means! What, we have to wear kilts to the ring and act out scenes from bad action movies? [chuckles] That was a good one… Well Hot Rod, tonight, I’m going to prove myself at this podium… AND in that ring. And by the end of the night, you’ll know for certain that you are competing… against your superior. So—
Hennig is cut off by the sound of a snare drum roll over the speakers. Seconds later, the bagpipes kick in and Hennig turns away from the podium in disgust.
[CUT] to a close-up of the curtain as Roddy Piper steps out onto the stage. Piper is grinning like a Cheshire cat as he appears. The Rowdy Scot is dressed in his usual black leather jacket and kilt with a “Hot Rod” T-shirt.
Styles: Here comes the Hot Rod! My new boss, thank you very much! And for what it’s worth, I think he’s a heck of a guy!
Piper stands on the stage for several seconds, surveying the crowd and soaking in the applause. Piper then grabs the lapels of his leather jacket and starts to stroll toward the podium.
[CUT] to Hennig, glowering at Piper with his arms crossed like some assistant principal ready to hand out the mother of all detentions to some slacker caught smoking in the bathroom.
Piper: Hey there, Curt! Wow, you look ANGRY! I guess you’re still a little sore about what happened, huh? Look, if it’s about that exotic dancer I sent you last night, that was meant as a token of friendship.
Hennig: It was a man!
The crowd explodes in cheers and laughter.
Piper: Hey, that was an honest mistake, buddy. Honest! Although, if you’re talking about extending an olive branch…
Piper chuckles as the fans start to cheer and laugh again.
Hennig: I AM NOT A JOKE, PIPER!
Piper: Heeeeey, easy, big fella! Simmer down! You don’t wanna burn yourself out. You’ve got a big match tonight! After all, tonight, you, Curt Hennig… oh yeah, not only are you going to finish drafting a damn fine roster… DAMN fine, Curt, really… but you’re going to compete in tonight’s main event. Curt Hennig, one on one, against Chris Jericho in a professional wrestling first! [backs up and starts to gesture in the air in front of him, as if on an invisible marquee] a Rowdy Roddy’s Rules Match! That’s big stuff, Curt. That’s major, high-quality stuff. And it could be a big night for you, Curt! Heck, you could almost call it a… PERFECT night.
Piper leans in to wink at Hennig, who is still seething.
Piper: But hey, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to come out here and remind everyone that they’ll be able to see Adrenaline, every Thursday night, live from 8 until 10 on the WB! But go ahead, Curt. Make your pick. I’m all ears!
Piper steps away from the podium with a grand gesture to his competition. Hennig glares at the Rowdy Scot as he steps to the microphone.
Hennig: Thanks, Piper… and thanks again for dressing up tonight. Really, you’re all class. As for what you said… for once, I agree with you. Tonight, I’m going to beat Chris Jericho… [the fans boo] and draft a roster that will put yours to shame! And I’ll start that with this very next pick.
A ticker flashes up on the bottom of the screen. *MAYHEM 17TH ROUND PICK* flashes in the center.
Hennig: This individual… he doesn’t have the big accomplishments or long career of a lot of the available talent. But he did something important Monday. He impressed me! And he’s gonna be a fine addition to my cruiserweight division. Ladies and gentlemen, my 17th pick… the Fallen Angel, Christopher Daniels!
The fans boo as Daniels heads out onto the stage wearing an open-collar shirt and a pair of dark slacks. Meanwhile, at the bottom of the screen, a 5:00 countdown begins on the ticker. Daniels does his pose, then heads for the podium.
Styles: Well this is the first real gamble of the draft selections we have seen so far! Daniels is a proven competitor on the independent circuit, but is a relative newcomer on the national scene. But he made a hell of an impact in the main event from Night 1 of this draft. Just look at this…
[CUT] to footage from the Draft, Night 1, and the eight-man tag between DX and the Flock. Several of the competitors are clustered in the crowd, away from the seats but on the other side of the ringside barrier. The crowd starts buzzing as Daniels climbs to the top rope in the nearest corner and flies off with a moonsault press OVER the rail and into members of both teams!
Styles: An INCREDIBLE act of daredevilry by the Fallen Angel! Daniels might have earned his draft status in that exact moment!
[CUT] back to live action as Daniels quickly shakes hands with Hennig, then leaves the stage. Daniels stands there, soaking in the jeers.
Piper: That’s a hell of a pick, Curt. Honestly. Simply phenomenal. But, just like I did… oh… throughout Monday’s show, I think I can top it. And I’d like to do so… through song.
Piper takes a step back, as “Enter Sandman” hits the speakers.
Styles: OH MY!
The hatred on Hennig’s face fades as the Sandman steps out onto the stage. The fans are going CRAZY as, cigarette in mouth, Sandman raises a
Styles: Here comes the cane-swinging, cigarette-smoking, beer-drinking son of a bitch!
Piper: Hey, Sandman! Remember that guy who tried to break up Brand X? You know… the one who said you’d NEVER get another shot at Ric Flair in a title match? Well guess what! You don’t work for him anymore! Well… just wanted to remind you about that. See ya!
Piper turns to step through the curtain as Sandman starts sizing up Hennig, who looks to see Daniels has beaten a hasty retreat.
Styles: You know what they say about payback…
Hennig holds his hands out, trying to plead his case to Sandman, who takes a WILD swing at the Mayhem commissioner! Hennig evades it, as well as another home-run swing aimed at his head! Hennig ducks it and takes off for the curtain! Sandman rares back for a third swing, but with Hennig long gone, he just turns back to the crowd, taking a beer out of a pocket in his jeans. Sandman cracks it open and starts chugging, before smashing the can against his forehead. As blood starts to drip down Sandman’s face, he thrusts the cane back over his head as the fans cheer.
Styles: The Original Hardcore Icon has a home on Thursday nights! And we’ll be back right after this…
[FADE IN back to the podium.]
Curt Hennig is standing there, and constantly looking back over his shoulder.
Hennig: If we can avoid any further interruptions… [pauses to glance back over his shoulder again] I’d like to proceed with my next pick in this draft. You see… Piper has his stunt tactics and his parlor tricks. And they work pretty well. But he doesn’t have the intelligence or the commitment that I possess. I have commissioned a team of top analysts to survey every available individual in this draft. And when we were crunching the numbers, we found something interesting. A… hidden jewel, if you will. Ladies and gentlemen, the next selection by Mayhem… from the Smoky Mountain Wrestling roster… this! Is! Goldust!
Styles: WHAT?!
Goldust’s music starts, and Hennig stands there and applauds as a video plays of some of the Bizarre One’s highlights/lowlights.
Styles: Curt Hennig has just taken his second pick of the night to draft Goldust! He isn’t even here tonight, he’s on the injured list! I know Goldust ranked highly in the revised points system, but this strikes me as a bizarre choice. And this crowd doesn’t know what to think!
So, instead, they just boo Hennig out of habit. He just smirks and starts to leave the podium…
When “Natural One” hits over the speakers.
Styles: Wait a second!
Hennig freezes where he stands, and shudders in fury as he turns to face the curtain and Michael Modest walks out. Modest has the World Television Title over one shoulder and is dressed to wrestle. Modest stands there for a few seconds, eyes locked with Curt Hennig, then heads for the ring with Hennig staring a hole in him from behind.
Styles: These two DESPISE one another! Remember, the dispute between Hennig and Piper that caused this draft took place after Modest beat Hennig for that TV Title.
Finally, Hennig turns and steps through the curtain, while Modest enters the ring.
30 minute time limit; referee: Mike Sparks
[CUT] to the hard camera as Modest climbs through the ropes. He starts to run in place and warm up.
Finkel: The following contest is our opening match of the night, and is for the World Television Championship! Your referee for this contest is Mike Sparks. Introducing first, the man standing in the ring to my right. From
Modest raises the belt over his head with one hand and nods to the fans, even though he’s getting a strong mixed reaction.
Styles: So the champion is ready… but as of now we have no opponent!
The scene is broken as Piper’s music hits again! The fans stand and cheer as the Rowdy Scot walks out to the podium.
Piper: Easy there, bub. While we both know ole Hot Rod could come down there and teach ya a lesson, I’ve got bigger fish to fry tonight. Besides, what kinda dope would let himself get booked in a match while trying to draft folks for his wrestling show?!
The fans cheer and laugh at this remark, and the smile on Piper’s face broadens.
Piper: Michael, before this defense of yours gets under way, I thought I’d clear up a few things. See, when I selected you, I earned the exclusive rights of that championship… to Adrenaline. And I’m making a few changes. For one thing, there won’t be a 10 minute time limit for title matches. From now on, all TV Title matches will have a 30 minute time limit. And no more random challengers either. Someone wants a shot at you, they can earn one. But… being the TV champ also means that you’ve got what I like to call a perpetual open contract. That means anyone, on any show, can challenge you for a chance at that belt… assuming they haven’t had one yet. But if you, or any TV champ can hold onto that belt… [chuckles] ohhh, are they gonna get rewarded. Because I like that whole 10 defenses rule. So if you can hold onto that belt through 10 title matches, then you get the prize… a world heavyweight title shot. I’ll even count your win over D’Lo Monday night.
Styles: Wow, already some big changes from the Rowdy Scot!
Piper: Now as for tonight… I decided to spice things up a bit. And so the next man I draft, will be the guy you face tonight, Modest!
Styles: Whoa!
[CUT] to the draft pool room, where everyone suddenly is watching the televisions in the room with renewed interest.
Piper: You said you wanted to prove you were the best, Modest? That you didn’t wanna be limited by the cruiserweight division? Congratulations… you got your chance. Because tonight, right now, you’ll defend your title… in a Hardcore Rules Match…
Styles: Hey!
Modest flips out at that news.
Piper: Against my next draft pick! Folks, give it up for the Innovator of Violence, Tommy… Dreamer!
The crowd goes NUTS as “Man In A Box” starts over the speakers. Modest, meanwhile, is not happy at all with this news, as Dreamer steps through the curtain. And he’s got a weapon.
Styles: Here comes Tommy Dreamer! And… and I think he’s carrying the chair he was sitting in back in the draft pool room!
Piper is standing there with a huge grin on his face as Dreamer heads for the ring.
Styles: Piper giving Michael Modest a bit of a test here. And as for Modest’s bold words earlier, well, be careful what you wish for, pal!
DING DING DING!
Dreamer gets a running start and starts to slide under the bottom rope, but Modest catches Dreamer with a baseball slide dropkick to the head. Dreamer gets knocked sprawling to the floor, and Modest follows him out.
Styles: Oh, a nice heads-up move by the champion!
Modest glances at the chair, but instead yanks Dreamer to his feet and goes for an Irish whip… Dreamer reverses and fires Modest HARD into the steps! Modest hits them with his knees and sails over the steps to smash into the concrete floor.
Styles: Dreamer sends Modest hurtling into the steps and over onto the floor!
Dreamer immediately heads to follow up, whipping Modest into the far railing. Modest literally bounces off with the big impact, ending up slumped on all fours.
Styles: What an impact!
Dreamer delivers a running kick to the head, pulls Modest up and fires him into the adjacent railing. Dreamer goes right to the attack again, and again fires Modest to the far railing on the other side.
Styles: Dreamer battering Modest from the proverbial pillar to post out on the floor!
Dreamer walks like a man with a purpose as he fires Modest into the fourth and final corner of the ring area. Modest ends up sitting in front of the rail… as Dreamer looks to the fans. They roar in approval, Dreamer charges in with a running knee to the head that drives Modest’s head back into the barrier! The fans ooh and ahh at the impact, and Dreamer has a crazed look in his eye as he lets out a bellow of triumph.
Styles: BIG CHARGING KNEE BY DREAMER! And Michael Modest is left slumped against the rail…
Dreamer picks Modest up and hits a suplex out on the floor. Dreamer stays down after, kicking his feet in pain, but Modest is much worse for wear. Dreamer pulls the champ up, then shoves him back against the rail, and hooks both of Modest’s arms over it.
Styles: Dreamer headed to the ring apron…
Dreamer flies off with a running double axehandle shot to the forehead! Modest’s knees buckle and he crumbles to the floor. Dreamer crawls over for the pin.
One…
Two…
Modest kicks out.
Styles: Hardcore Rules, remember, so pinfalls can take place anywhere.
The champ starts trying to crawl away, struggling to regain his composure.
Styles: Dreamer’s got the chair!
Modest trying to pull himself to his feet, slowly turns… and Dreamer swings with the chair. But Modest ducks it! Dreamer turns and makes a forward thrust with the chair aimed for the champ’s midsection but Modest dodges that. Dreamer then unloads with a decapitating blow, but Modest ducks that and the chair smashes into the ringpost! Dreamer drops the weapon after the stinging impact to his hands, Modest hooks him from behind and hits a twisting belly to back suplex out on the floor! Dreamer’s head and neck get driven into the concrete!
Styles: BIG counter by Modest with the suplex!
One…
Two…
T—Dreamer with a shoulder up. Modest shoves Dreamer’s carcass into the ring and hooks him for an Exploder suplex… but instead Modest only cringes.
Styles: Oh, Modest reaching for his lower back… he can’t hit the suplex!
Dreamer answers with a clubbing blow to the small of the back, then scoops him into the air for a slam. Instead, Dreamer turns around and throws Modest out of the ring! He hits HARD on the floor outside! The fans groan at the impact, which leaves Modest writhing on the concrete in agony.
Styles: Tommy Dreamer with a VICIOUS slam over the top rope down to the floor!
Referee Mike Sparks heads out of the ring to check on Modest, but Dreamer slides out and immediately makes the cover.
One…
Two…
Thre—weak shoulder up by Modest!
Dreamer goes for the pin again.
One…
Two…
Thr—and again Modest with a shoulder up.
Styles: Modest somehow staying in this match! But more punishment to the back… and with a bad back, Modest can’t execute his suplexes… and that takes away a major part of his offense.
Dreamer gets up and goes for the chair again. Modest is still down. This time, Dreamer has plenty of time to measure Modest, who starts trying to reach all fours. Dreamer raises the chair and SLAMS it down across Modest’s lower back! The champ bucks violently, his face etched in agony!
Styles: A BRUTAL shot with the steel chair!
Dreamer drills Modest again! But Modest is still trying to reach his feet. Dreamer steps in front of Modest, measuring his head with the weapon… when the champ suddenly yanks Dreamer’s ankles out from under him! Modest stands, hooks Dreamer’s legs… Crash Landing catapult sends the challenger forward into the post. The chair bounces off the post and back into Dreamer’s face!
Styles: Catapult counter by Modest sends Dreamer shoulder-first into the steel!
Dreamer staggers a bit as Modest claws back to a vertical base and the Jumbotron flickers to life.
MAYHEM
ROUND 19
KEN SHAMROCK
Styles: The World’s Most Dangerous Man is headed to Monday nights! A huge pickup for Curt Hennig…
The champ rolls a woozy Dreamer back into the ring.
Styles: Modest gets it back into the ring but the champion is limping badly!
Modest goes to pull Dreamer up, and the challenger drills Modest with a nasty punch to the face! Modest’s head gets snapped around and he staggers. Dreamer snarls and drills Modest with a wicked open-handed shot to the face. The challenger screams for Modest to bring it. Modest turns to face Dreamer…
Styles: Look at the eyes of Michael M—OHHH!
Modest tags Dreamer with a wicked forearm to the head! He charges, driving Dreamer back into the northeast corner, and starts unloading with a brutal series of forearms to the head!
Styles: Michael Modest hammering Tommy Dreamer!
Finally the referee steps in to break up the assault, but Dreamer barely can stand after the onslaught!
Styles: Modest with some serious, intense forearms!
Modest with a big Beal out of the corner.
Styles: Dreamer trying to stand, but I think he’s still out of it…
Modest pulls him up by the ears, bends and goes for the Sure Thing… but Dreamer with a double axehandle to the small of the back! Modest cringes, Dreamer shoves him into a standing headscissors, picks him up…
Styles: JUMPING PILEDRIVER! Dreamer drives Modest headfirst into the mat! But does he have enough of his wits to make the pin?!?
Indeed, Modest is down and lifeless, as Dreamer sits there, dazed. After a few valuable seconds pass, he shakes his head like a wet dog and flops across Modest, weakly hooking a leg.
One!
Two!
…
Three!
Styles: HE GOT H—NO! NO! MODEST KICKS OUT!
Dreamer gets to his knees, obviously frustrated, but starts rolling for the floor with a sick, lopsided and obviously addled grin on his face.
[ZOOM IN] to a close-up of Dreamer’s face, and a rapidly swelling knot under his left eye.
Styles: You can see right there what those forearms did… and Dreamer might have a concussion, too.
Dreamer picks up the chair. He brings it back in, and sets the chair on the mat. Dreamer picks Modest up, measuring him for a slam… but Modest drops down behind him. The champ spins Dreamer around and delivers a double ear clap. With Dreamer dazed, Modest picks him up in a torture rack… then hits an inverted DVD!
Styles: RIGHT ONTO THE CHAIR!
Crowd: OHHHHHHH!
Dreamer is left lifeless, facedown across the chair. Modest, meanwhile, is grabbing at his back again. He still has enough presence to roll the Innovator of Violence onto his back and cover, even hooking a leg.
Styles: Tag Dreamer’s toe, this one is over!
One!
Two!
Three!
Styles: Dreamer brought the chair into the ring, but he pays for it as Modest hits an inverted DVD! He calls it the Bitch Slap, folks…
Modest rolls off Dreamer and half onto his side. The ref hands him his title then goes to check on Dreamer. Modest slowly stands, and starts to raise the belt over his head when Roddy Piper’s music starts again.
WIN: Modest by pinfall in 7:28 (retains title)
Styles: Here comes the boss again…
Piper strolls out onto the stage as Modest leans against the ropes. The Rowdy Scot does a little golf-clap for the TV champion as he steps to the podium.
Piper: Congratulations, Mikey! I can call ya Mikey, right?
[CUT] to Modest, who’s just glaring back at Piper with a stone face.
Piper: Great! Well Mikey, if ya don’t mind, I’d like to celebrate your recent defense… by announcing your NEXT title defense. And, just like your match against Tommy Boy there, your next defense is gonna happen next week, on the first-EVER episode of Adrenaline… against my next draft pick.
Piper stands back from the podium and crosses his arms… as the Hardys’ music begins.
Styles: WHAT THE—?!?
Matt Hardy walks out onto the stage in a pair of baggy pants and a sleeveless black shirt. He heads for the podium and shakes his new boss’ hand.
Styles: Roddy Piper uses his 19th pick on… Matt Hardy?!? That one’s a head-scratcher… I think we’ve seen one of the few true surprise picks to this point in the draft! And Michael Modest seems less than impressed with this new addition… and new challenger.
[CUT] to a shot of Modest, who is actually laughing at Hardy. [CUT] back to Hardy, who sees this and starts trying to get at the ring. Piper holds him back, but Hardy instead points to the ring and starts making the ever-popular “I want the belt” gesture.
Styles: The Adrenaline roster’s slowly taking shape, and we’ve already got our first match for next week’s debut! And we’ll be back, right after this…
COMMERCIALS
[FADE IN] from the commercial break to see the Sandman standing by backstage, apparently having commandeered a camera. Dried blood remains on his forehead after his earlier antics.
Sandman: I know what you might be thinkin’… you’re probably lookin’ for that little baldie Mean Gene Okerlund. Or maybe Paul Heyman, now that he doesn’t hafta worry about writin’ checks that won’t clear! See, I’m not what you’d call a media-friendly guy. This company, they want me to sit here and spout off to a toady holdin’ a microphone about this draft? Well forget it. I don’t jump through hoops and dance on cue, and I sure as hell ain’t some corporate stooge. I’m the Sandman… the original hardcore icon! Now because of that, folks might think I’m going after the Hardcore Title. You’re wrong. I’ve got one goal, and one goal only, and that’s to get my hands on YOU, Ric Flair! You need to pay, Flair. You’ve GOT to pay for what you did to Chastity! To shave her head in the middle of the ring… right in front of me… [starts to seethe, as his fingers clench and unclench on the cane] AHHHH!
Sandman lets out a roar, and hits himself in the head with his own cane with three sharp blows. He grabs the lens of the camera and yanks it right up into his face. Fresh blood starts trickling from his forehead.
Sandman: YOU SONOFABITCH! THERE’S NO WAY I’M GONNA LET YOU GET AWAY WITH IT! YOU UNDERSTAND ME? YOU’RE GONNA PAY, FLAIR! IF IT’S THE LAST (BLEEP)DAMN THING I DO, YOU’RE GONNA PAY!
Sandman stands there, snarling and bleeding, as the scene [FADES OUT].
[FADE IN] back to the arena, as Curt Hennig’s theme music is already playing. The fans boo as Hennig struts out to the podium.
Styles: Welcome back to the CWF draft, and it looks like Curt Hennig’s ready to make his next selection.
Hennig: [clears his throat] Roddy Piper thinks he’s sooo clever. He’s letting ego take over. He thinks he can draft a sad sack like Matt Hardy, and turn him into a star thanks to the “brilliance” of his ability to run a wrestling show. Well Piper, there’s one difference between you and me. You see losers, and want to make them winners. I find diamonds in the rough… and give them a chance to shine. With that, I’d like to introduce my next pick… Chris! Candido!
Styles: Chris Candido is headed to Monday nights!
Candido’s music hits, and a few seconds later he walks out onto the stage, looking rather neutral about the whole draft process. Hennig, however, greets Candido with a huge smile on his face.
Styles: Chris Candido another competitor who impressed during that Cruiserweight Battle Royal, finishing second to Eddie Guerrero. Frankly I’m a little surprised Hennig didn’t take Jeff Hardy; we’ve seen these two deliberately try to destroy alliances and tag teams since this draft began… but one thing that is dead is this current incarnation of the Four Horsemen. Malenko and Candido go to Mayhem, while Flair and Awesome already have been picked for Adrenaline… Right now, let’s go to Jerry Lawler in Roddy Piper’s war room. King, perhaps the Hot Rod has some thoughts on Curt Hennig’s latest draft pick?
[CUT] to Lawler, standing to the front and left of Roddy Piper’s desk. Piper is scribbling frantically on a yellow notepad as the King begins to speak.
Lawler: Joey, Roddy’s not saying much right now. But I got a close look at his reaction to what Curt Hennig said about Piper’s selection of Matt Hardy, and he does NOT look happy about it…
Piper: BAHH! [rips a piece of paper off the notepad and tosses it toward the wastebasket. He misses, and Lawler bends to pick it up] Hey, that’s private!
Lawler: Here we go, some inside scoop on—
Lawler trails off and his eyes bulge with that usual lecherous rapture. Piper steps forward and snatches the crumpled piece of paper out of his hand.
Lawler: There’s a lot of detail on that drawing, how’d you get the—
Piper: EHHH! Save the art criticisms for later, will ya?
Lawler: So Roddy, what’d you think about Curt Hennig criticizing your selection of Matt Hardy?
Piper: Oh, Captain Ponytail did some whining? So out of character for him. Sorry, Your HIGHNESS, I didn’t really pay attention to what he was saying… Little too busy honing my artwork! All I know is that he took Chris Candido, which I figured was just a matter of time anyway. But if Curt thinks he got one over on me? He better enjoy it while he can. So… [chuckles] tell me, Your Majesty… where’s your friend, Jerry Lynn? You see, he made a mistake by storming out of the building Monday night like a spoiled brat who got his tricycle stolen.
Lawler: Well, um… I haven’t seen him tonight.
Piper: Do me a favor, King. Put down the microphone for a few minutes… and find. Him. He and I need to have some words. Understand?
Lawler: Um… sure, Roddy.
Piper: Good.
Lawler turns to leave, and Piper watches him depart, then rolls his eyes.
Piper: NOW what?
Gangrel, Edge and Christian step forward into the shot. All three are dressed to wrestle.
Gangrel: Mr. Piper… allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Gangrel, and these are my students, Edge and Christian.
Piper: Course I know who you boys are. Rowdy Roddy, pleased t’meetcha! Been impressed with what I’ve seen of you guys on tape from SMW… and Christian you looked mighty fine in that battle royal Monday night. The way you clung to that bottom rope like a rat on a sinking ship, then snuck up to eliminate a few guys? Why, that was straight out of the Hot Rod’s playbook!
Christian: Thank you.
Piper: So what can I do for ya?
Gangrel: We are here seeking opportunity. You want a great tag team division? Well you’re looking at a building block—not just for right now, but for years down the road on Adrenaline…
Piper stands there, rubbing his chin in thought.
Piper: Ya know, I gotta hand it to you guys. You come in here, to a guy you’ve never met, an authority figure… and you talk like you’re the second comin’ of the Midnight Express! Except wearin’ black and actin’ all spooky. That takes guts, fellas. No, more than guts… MOXIE! It takes a whoooole lotta moxie. So, here’s what I’m gonna do. You wanna get to the big leagues? I’ll give you the opportunity… to EARN a spot. So I’m gonna add a special match to tonight’s card. It’ll be a tag team match. If you guys win, I’ll draft the both of ya. Lose? And it’s back to Smoky Mountain Wrestling.
Gangrel: Mr. Piper, you won’t be disappointed.
Piper watches them go, then turns to face the camera.
Piper: When we return to this second THRILLING installment of the CWF draft, I’ll make my 20th pick. Oh, and Mike Awesome? If you see and hear this—and I’m sure you can—I’ll expect you on the arena stage once I make that pick… right after these exciting words from our sponsors!
Piper stands there with a big goofy grin on his face as the scene [FADES OUT]
COMMERCIALS
[FADE IN] back to the arena, to find Roddy Piper already standing at the podium.
Piper: Hiya, folks! This is the Hot Rod here, ready to make his next draft pick. And, ya know, since I picked up one Hardy, I might as well go for the matching set. So, with my 20th pick, I select Jeff Hardy.
Styles: As to be expected! The Hardy brothers will stay together, and they’ll be a part of Adrenaline every Thursday night…
Piper: But… hmmm… it seems like something’s missing. Mike Awesome, I told you to be out here. I’m now making that an ORDER, from your new boss. So chop-chop, big man!
Styles: Roddy Piper is laying down the law as he assembles this new roster…
Awesome heads out wearing a short-sleeved golf shirt and a pair of slacks, with the Hardcore Title belt slung over one shoulder.
Piper: Well hey there, champ! And thanks for dressin’ up for this special occasion. Hardcore Champion… yeah, nothin’ says hardcore like a pair of Dockers, big boy!
Awesome stands there and glowers as the fans cheer and laugh.
Piper: Now, if you remember, I had a little problem with the way you won that belt. Call me crazy, but I think pinnin’ a man while he’s strapped to a stretcher really doesn’t follow the spirit of that 24/7 rule. But, well, it’s obvious you’re a big fan of that rule. Because, that means you take on all comers, right? I like that attitude, Mike. I like that you have that attitude! And I say we celebrate that! Here’s what we’re gonna do, pal. Next week is the premiere episode of Adrenaline. And, in the main event, we’re gonna take you… and we’re gonna put you in the ring. And we’re gonna put 30 minutes on the clock. And you’ll defend the title against every… single… wrestler that wants a shot! All at once!
Styles: WHOA!
Piper: All you have to do is still have that belt once the 30 minutes are over. Sound good? Sure it does!
Awesome, meanwhile, looks mad enough to spit lava.
Piper: I’m sure you’ll have no problem defending against 10 or 12 of the CWF’s finest! Good luck, buddy! Hey, maybe you can find a dozen stretchers to tie everybody down to, huh? Now HIT MY MUSIC!
Piper pauses to smooth back his hair, then strolls off the stage. Awesome simply stands there, staring at the back of his boss’ head as he departs.
Styles: Roddy Piper has just stacked the deck against the Hardcore Champion! Mike Awesome won that title under shady means, but he’s gonna have to earn his way if he wants to keep that belt in a week! Now let’s head backstage to a message from Owen Hart.
[CUT] to a close-up of Owen Hart standing in front of a bare wall, somewhere in the backstage area of the arena.
Hart: I want you to take a look at this.
Hart gestures to his left. [PAN LEFT] to see framed still-action pictures of Utah Jazz stars Karl Malone and John Stockton. The
Hart: Individually, they’re two of the best basketball players of this era. As a unit, they’re one of the finest tandems ever. But at this point, their careers lack that special something. That unique element that makes good athletes great… and great athletes legends. And that’s a championship. Sabu, you’re a unique competitor. The way you put your body on the line, you do things in that ring that no one else can. And beating you won’t be easy. Now, you can plunge headlong into barbed wire, or use chairs and tables on your opponent, but can you step into the Dungeon and survive? I did. You think you’re tough? Well I grew up under a man who was a badass before the term hardcore was even talked about. His name was Stu Hart. And he taught me that it doesn’t matter who you are, where you come from, or how crazy you might be. Put on the right hold, and he WILL tap out. So Sabu, get ready. Because tonight, you don’t just face me. You face the dynasty of the Hart family. And tonight, I will make my family proud, and take that World Heavyweight Championship back to Adrenaline. Because enough is enough… and tonight? Sabu, it’s time for a change. A TITLE change.
Owen walks off as the scene [FADES OUT]
[FADE IN] backstage, to see Jerry Lynn pacing in Piper’s war room as the door opens. The Rowdy Scot smiles broadly when he sees the New F’n King awaiting him.
Piper: Jerry! Am I glad to see you! Boy, I’m thrilled ya decided to grace us with your presence tonight. Just thrilled…
Piper: Ya know, you’re really not makin’ the best impression on your new boss, Jerry. You leave early on Monday, show up late tonight… hell, if ya had an AK-47, might as well be one of those disgruntled postal workers!
Piper: Know what, Jerry? You stand here, in front of your new boss and basically tell him to go to hell! Might as well spit in my face, right? Hey, I LIKE that! You remind me of me! And, whether ya believe it or not, I do feel kinda bad about the way everything went down. Feel like maybe I didn’t give you a fair shake, given what you already accomplished. So, here’s what I’m gonna do. Tonight, you’re gonna get what you want—an opportunity. I’m bookin’ a tag team match. You, and any partner you want, against two young guys I talked to earlier tonight. Edge and Christian. Maybe you’ve heard of ’em.
Piper: Well if you can beat them, I’ll give you the chance at any title you want. Sound fair?
Piper: Good! Well, you better get goin’, Jerry. Because that tag match… is next. So you’ve gotta change AND find a partner in the next few minutes.
Piper just shrugs and leans in close.
Piper: Maybe next time you’ll learn to show up on time. Better get goin’, Jerry!
Piper heads off, whistling, as
[CUT] back to the arena to see Curt Hennig at the podium.
Styles: Mayhem commissioner Curt Hennig is back out in the arena, and it’s time for his 21st pick of this draft…
Hennig: I’ve got to hand it to you, Roddy. You like to sit back in your cheap T-shirts and threadbare skirts, and make fun of me. You throw around fancy terms like “abuse of power.” Well, Roddy, from what I’ve seen tonight, when it comes to throwing administrative weight around, you… have NOTHING on me. And speaking of abuse… Chris Jericho, I hope you’re ready for what’s coming tonight. I’m sure you had a role in this match being arranged. Probably went crying to Roddy Piper and said, “Oh, PLEASE, Mister Piper, I’ll do anything! Just help me get that mean Curt Hennig once and for all!” Well be careful what you wish for. Because Chris, tonight you pay for every act of disrespect. Every smart-ass remark! You’re not stepping in that ring with some old man. You’re stepping in the ring with a second-generation wrestler, a true technician. The son of the Axe himself! And tonight, I’m gonna give you a Minnesota-style beatdown, and leave you bloody and beaten in the middle of that very ring!
Hennig points dramatically at the squared circle like some politician running for office.
Hennig: Well maybe my next draft pick can give me some additional tips, not that I need them to beat a pretender like you… After all, you once worked for him. Ladies and gentlemen, my 21st draft pick for Mayhem… PAUL! HEYMAN!
The old ECW theme starts up and Hennig steps back from the podium, applauding politely as Heyman walks out onto the stage in his ballcap and cheap-looking sportcoat. He enthusiastically shakes Hennig’sn hand and looks out at the ring.
Styles: Paul Heyman and Curt Hennig… on the same show! The mad genius behind ECW and one of the greats from the AWA legacy will be together in the same place. This draft truly does create strange bedfellows. We’ll try to sort all this out, and come back, right after this…
COMMERCIALS
[FADE IN] after the break to see Jim Ross standing by in the war room of Mayhem.
JR: Hello folks, good ol’ JR back with you, and very interested to speak with Curt Hennig after his selection of Paul Heyman. Who knows, this old Okie might’ve just found a broadcast partner. Or is it possible that the Svengali of ECW might be gaining a position at the right hand of Hennig himself? He—
The door starts to open behind JR.
JR: Wait, here he comes!
JR turns with microphone ready as Hennig steps through the door with…
Vince McMahon?!?
Vince does his patented bulging-eyes and slow-gulp look, glances at Hennig… then darts out the door. Hennig stands there, dumbfounded, darts his head to the right at Vince’s escape route, darts his head back at JR, then back toward Vince’s escape, then back toward JR.
Hennig: What the HELL do you think you are doing?!?
JR: Look, I’m just doing my j—
Hennig: This is trespassing! This war room coverage goes too far! I—GET THAT CAMERA OFF!
[CUT] back to the arena, and a close-up of Roddy Piper at the podium.
Piper: Holy Hidden Camera, Batman! Looks like we caught Curt in a private moment. Gosh, I hate that! Such a shame… [starts to shake his head in sadness, before snapping out if it after just a couple of seconds with a big grin] Oh well! Curt, you take a commentator… well any announcer you can pick, I can pick better! Folks, say hi to the new color man for Adrenaline… Bobby! The Brain! Heenan!
Styles: The Brain?!?
Heenan gets a strong mixed reaction—but mostly cheers—as he walks out onto the stage. Heenan does his little A-OK salute and then starts down the ramp to the ring.
Styles: Bobby Heenan as my new permanent broadcast partner? What did I do to deserve this fate? Maybe I should’ve offered to wash Roddy’s car before the show or something!
Heenan is taking his sweet time as he approaches the ring with a cocky walk.
Styles: Quick, somebody in the back bring me some Weasel repellent! I think I’m gonna need it…
[CUT] to a close-up of the broadcast table as Heenan sits down beside Styles and dons his headset.
Heenan: How ya doin’, Joey?
Styles: Well, Bobby, I’m—
Heenan: Yeahyeahyeah, that’s great. Don’t worry, I’m sure some ointment will clear that up for ya.
Styles: Clear WHAT up?
Heenan: Listen, I’ve got a bone to pick. I spend night after night out here, building up Curt Hennig…
Styles: You mean sucking up to him!
Heenan: You say potato, I say potahto. Anyway, how am I repaid for all that world-class bootlicking? Hennig doesn’t even draft me as one of his commentators! The nerve! I mean, REALLY! Paul Heyman? That’s like building a world-class bathroom then hiring a Bulgarian plumber to install the pipes! Know what I mean?
Styles just sits there, staring at the Brain.
Styles: Fans, we apologize to anyone of Bulgarian heritage who might be watching.
Heenan: And plumbers, too.
Styles just sighs.
Styles: Well fans, before we move on, we have an unfortunate medical report. We all saw the intense match between Owen Hart and Jeff Jarrett on Monday night. Well, it appears to have been a little more intense than any of us thought.
[CUT] to soundless highlights of that match, as Owen reverses Jarrett’s Stroke attempt into a dragon sleeper.
Styles: This hold, Brain, the Dragon sleeper… Owen wrenched it on so tightly, with so much force that Jeff Jarrett needs neck surgery. He’s looking at at least one year out of action.
Heenan: You think those guys in the Dungeon play around? Owen Hart basically broke Jeff Jarrett’s neck with that Dragon sleeper! I tell ya one guy who needs to pay attention to that—Sabu!
Styles: Owen Hart gets his chance at the world title later tonight! Another injury from the first half of our draft… Vampiro broke his leg near the end of that eight-man tag event.
Heenan: I guess that makes you the most tattooed man in the CWF.
Styles: It does not!
Heenan: Take off your shirt. C’mon, there’s that big one of Goofy right on your back. Paul Heyman told me!
Styles gives a withering stare directly to the camera.
Styles: Bobby Heenan as my partner… Thanks, boss.
20 minute time limit; referee: Jim Molineaux
[CUT] to a wide shot of the arena, as Edge and Christian head down the aisle to no music.
Styles: A very subdued entrance for Edge and Christian… Obviously these guys are not members of the CWF roster, weren’t expected to compete tonight. So no theme music was available… and of course they don’t have the entrance videos that full-time CWF wrestlers have. Roddy Piper also has told Gangrel to sit this one out. He wants this issue decided between these four men and these four alone.
Heenan: Hold on a second… *sound of papers shuffling* Just who are these guys?
Styles: Um, like they were introduced… Edge and Christian. They’re from Smoky Mountain Wrestling?
Heenan: Oh, right. Them.
Styles: I thought you knew everybody. You ARE the Brain, aren’t you?
Heenan: It’s not my fault they’re not on my format sheet!
Styles: You don’t even have a format sheet!
Heenan: Exactly!
Styles just sighs—no doubt the second of many—as Edge and Christian slide into the ring under the bottom rope. Right when they reach their feet, the royal fanfare of trumpets starts up, cutting directly to “Trust” by Megadeth.
[CUT] to a close-up of the stage as Jerry Lynn steps through the curtain to a mixed reaction.
Styles: The New F’n King makes his entrance, and a lot of these fans don’t seem very happy with him right now…
Heenan: Now, Joey, you know what they say about whiners.
[Awkward pause]
Styles: Yes?
Heenan: Well… they’re not very popular.
Styles: So here comes Jerry Lynn, in a match with high stakes for both sides. If Edge and Christian win, Roddy Piper has guaranteed he’ll draft the two of them. But if
PA: Are You Ready?
Styles: WHAT?!?
PA: Break it down!
The crowd ERUPTS as the DX theme and music video crank up, and Triple H walks out onto the stage. Helmsley downs what’s left in his bottle of water then does a crotch chop, spitting out the contents before heading for the ring.
Styles: Jerry Lynn has found Triple H to be his tag partner in this impromptu match!
[CUT] to a close-up of
Styles: You’ve got to think Triple H is hedging his bets with this partnership. The rest of DX still has yet to be drafted, but if they all end up on the Mayhem roster, Helmsley will be in need of some new allies.
Heenan: Bah, friends are overrated, Joey. You can’t rely on someone unless they owe you or there’s some sort of contractual agreement.
Styles: Charming… The holidays at your house must be a real treat.
DING DING DING!
One…
Edge shoots his left shoulder off the mat and
One…
Edge shoots his right shoulder off and
One…
Two…
Edge rotates his hips to get out of the pinning predicament. He squirrels one arm free, gets to his knees, whacks
Styles: Jerry Lynn has the experience and is better known as a technical wrestler, but Edge is trying to show he can hang with the veteran!
Heenan: Edge and Christian might be out of their league against these guys…
Edge pulls
Styles: Jerry Lynn looks to be in top form tonight! You’ve got to wonder what kind of chance he would have had in the Above and Beyond tournament…
Heenan: Edge looks about as confused as the Barbarian that time I tried to teach him how to balance his checkbook!
Heenan: Ouch! He’s gonna feel that in the morning.
Styles: Jerry Lynn is putting on a clinic against these two less experienced competitors…
Christian groans under the strain of the hold, as
Heenan: Christian’s hairdresser won’t like that!
Styles: Hairdresser? What about just a barber?
Heenan: I don’t think guys who wear puffy shirts go to barbers…
As the announcers banter, Helmsley comes in and instantly applies his own armbar, jamming a knee against the shoulder joint. He extends the arm toward Edge with a smirk, motioning for him to make the tag. Instead, HHH drops an elbow across Christian’s arm and yanks back on the forearm using the elbow as a fulcrum. Christian has his free hand wrapped in his hair to avoid tapping out as he screams in pain.
Styles: And now Triple H bending that arm in another sick direction…
Triple H chain wrestles into a hammerlock and brings Christian up to his feet, then scoops him for a slam down on the arm and follows with a stomp to the shoulder with the arm still pinned under Christian’s body.
Styles: You are witnessing these two individuals put on a clinic on how to isolate, then dissect a body part.
Heenan: They must have been watching videotapes of the old
Triple H bends for the arm again, but Christian swings his legs up and kicks him away and rolls to his knees, catching Triple H with a fireman’s carry, then dropping an elbow across the throat with his good arm.
Styles: But Christian fights back!
Christian keeps hold, bringing Triple H up in an inverted facelock, but Helmsley delivers some nasty punches to the side of the head, spins out to face Christian, grabs him for a reverse atomic drop and follows with a nasty forearm to the face. Triple H hooks another arm wringer, drags Christian to the corner and tags. Lynn vaults over the top rope and lands with a leapfrog across Christian’s outstretched arm, follows with a Russian legsweep and rolls through going for a cross armbreaker.
Styles: What a combination from Jerry Lynn! And if he can hook this armbreaker, this match could be over in a hurry…
Christian desperately tries to keep his hands locked, as
Heenan: Big save there…
Styles: How about that teamwork?
Styles: Uh oh, time for another pick…
MAYHEM
ROUND 22
VINCE MCMAHON
Styles: Mister McMahon goes to Monday nights! I think now we know why Hennig and Vince were talking!
Meanwhile Christian slides behind the groggy
Styles: OH!
The impact stuns
Styles: Edge showing a lot of fire!
Referee Jim Molineaux admonishes him for the closed fists.
Heenan: I can’t get over Vince Mc—Hey, wait!
One…
Two…
Edge kicks free, and immediately starts grabbing for his legs. Edge going for some sort of submission hold… it’s a
Heenan: Like I was saying, Joey, I can’t believe Hennig took Vince McMahon. Why would either guy draft him? You’re gonna willingly add a guy who loves power and used to have his own multimillion-dollar company to your roster? That’s like hiring Jack Kevorkian to run your ER. Bad things have got to happen.
Edge grabs
Styles: Nasty impact into the knee!
Heenan: Dental surgeon on line one, please!
The fans ooh as
Styles: Nice, fluid tags and double-teams by Edge and Christian…
Heenan: And it’s all within that five seconds so it’s legal.
Edge grabs Christian, hoisting him in the air for a modified side suplex and slams him down across
Heenan: You talked about clinics? We’re seeing one about double-team tag wrestling right now…
Edge whips
Heenan: Yowch!
Edge promptly rolls onto his belly putting
One!
Two!
Th—Shoulder up!
Heenan: That was close!
Styles: Jerry Lynn in trouble after a series of double-teams… and a lot of these fans are showing Edge and Christian their appreciation.
Edge immediately brings
Heenan: Whoops!
Styles: Great recovery by Edge and Christian… and
Christian rolls off still hurting after straddling the turnbuckle chain, but
Styles: OH MY EDGE GOES PLUMMETING!
Heenan: That’s the kind of counter I can get behind, Joey. When in doubt, drop ’em on their head!
A weary
Styles: Here comes Triple H!
Christian charges in to try and cut him off but eats a wicked roundhouse right to the head. Triple H rolls to the floor, grabs Edge and shoves his carcass back inside. Leaping high knee to the head drops Christian as the Jumbotron flickers to life.
Heenan: Here comes another pick…
ADRENALINE
ROUND 22
SID
Heenan: WOW!
Styles: Psycho Sid is headed to Adrenaline…
Heenan: Isn’t he suspended?
Styles: Well I imagine he’d be available when the suspension is over. Or maybe Piper even could waive it…
Edge getting back to his feet, and Triple H drops him with a wicked lariat! Helmsley immediately yanks Edge up onto his shoulders, hits a fireman’s carry takeover and follows with a big leaping knee to the head. As he stands, Christian charges in, Triple H backdrops him onto his own partner!
Styles: Meanwhile Triple H is cooking!
Christian rolls to the floor clutching at his lower back, as Triple H yanks Edge up and tosses him into the neutral southwest corner. Helmsley scales to the middle rope and starts methodically driving both fists into Edge’s face with piston-like regularity!
Heenan: He’s pounding that kid like a veal cutlet!
Helmsley fires Edge into the far corner and charges for a follow… but Edge gets a boot up! As Triple H staggers away from the corner, Edge grabs him under the chin and hits the Edge-o-matic! Edge leans forward hooking a leg.
One…
T—
Styles: Ooh, right in the face!
Christian heads back in and nails
Styles: Now what the hell is he doing out here? I thought Piper banned everyone from the ring.
Christian and Lynn start slugging it out and get tied up against the ropes.
Heenan: There’s the Pedigree!
Triple H rolls him over.
One…
Two…
Gangrel slides Edge’s foot under the bottom rope!
Styles: And the ref breaks up the pin!
Triple H lunges for Gangrel, who snaps his neck against that bottom rope. Gangrel immediately ducks under the ring.
Styles: Hey!
Heenan: Some old-school cheating right there…
Christian grabs a woozy Triple H and goes for an inverted DDT, Triple H twists free and goes for a backdrop but Christian drops down behind him. Triple H spins and goes for a scoop slam but Edge hits him in the kidneys.
Styles: Oh, come on!
Christian with a running dropkick that knocks
Heenan: Here comes Christian again.
Edge picks Triple H up for a side suplex… Christian hooks an inverted DDT… and they hit both moves at once!
One!
Two!
Three!
Heenan: There it is, Joey! Edge and Christian have done it!
WIN: Edge & Christian by pin in 12:10
Styles: Edge and Christian win the match, and they’ve earned Roddy Piper’s promise that they will be drafted. But boy, talk about a tainted victory…
Gangrel heads into the ring to celebrate with Edge and Christian, as the referee tends to Triple H and
Piper: Excuse me. EXCUSE ME!
The members of the Brood look up as Piper comes stalking out onto the stage holding a microphone.
Heenan: Uh oh, Joey, here comes the judge!
Piper: I hate to break up the party before you guys start passin’ round that big goblet of Koolaid… but… you know… maybe my eyes are bad, but I think I told you to stay in the back, Gangrel. In fact I told EVERYONE to stay in the back. So since you won this match because of outside interference, I am throwing out the result and ordering Jim Molineaux to restart the contest. Oh, and Gangrel? Congratulations for being my poster boy for what happens to people who interfere in matches on Adrenaline… because you’re fired.
Styles: WHOA!
Gangrel is SHOCKED in the ring, while Edge and Christian are livid!
Piper: Now ring that bell!
DING DING DING!
Styles: Roddy Piper has thrown out that tainted result… and Bobby he just fired Gangrel!
Heenan: But he can’t do that can he? Gangrel doesn’t even work for him yet!
Styles: I think he just did!
Edge, Christian and Gangrel still are yelling and pointing at Piper as Triple H and Lynn approach them from behind. They hook Edge and Christian and hit stiff belly-to-back suplexes in stereo! Gangrel turns as
Styles: So much for Gangrel!
Meanwhile Triple H runs into the far ropes and fires off with double clotheslines on Edge and Christian. Triple H goes for Edge while
Styles: Stereo finishers!
Helmsley and Lynn pin their respective opponents.
One…
Two…
Three!
Styles: And just like that this match is over!
Heenan: Jerry Lynn has what he wants, Joey. He’s earned a spot at the world title on Adrenaline… although, of course, that show doesn’t HAVE a world champion.
Styles: Not if Owen Hart has anything to say about it!
Heenan: Hmmmm…
Meanwhile, security guards are dragging Gangrel up the aisle, with Edge and Christian still following and yelling protests as there’s a fade to the break.
WIN: Lynn & Triple H by pin in 12:53
COMMERCIALS
[FADE IN] from the commercial break to see Curt Hennig standing at the podium.
Hennig: Ahhh, how quickly things change. Edge and Christian thought they had an opportunity here in the CWF. And instead, Roddy Piper snatches it away. Well I hope everyone who’s been drafted to Adrenaline got a good look at that. That’s what they have to look forward to. Because you will NEVER see someone treated so unfairly on my show!
Styles: [voiceover] Give me a break… Does he think that no one’s been watching for the past two months?
Hennig: I myself would like to congratulate Edge and Christian for their performance tonight. They truly seem to be one of the best teams in Smoky Mountain Wrestling. But not the best team… because you see, there’s another tandem in SMW that BEAT Edge and Christian last week. And as the more refined and educated authority figure here, I am aware of such things. So allow me to announce the name of the newest competitor for Mayhem… Steven Regal!
Styles: Curt Hennig takes one-half of the revamped British Bulldogs team. But this is a pretty different tandem from the original Bulldogs team. They’ll ground you, pound you and stretch you until you tap out. They are tough, straightforward and downright mean.
Heenan: Plus, no more dog… The originals had a dog.
Styles: Yes, Brain, thank you.
Regal heads out stage, and is wearing a three-piece suit. He gives a kingly wave to the crowd then heads for Hennig, shaking his hand and giving a little bow.
Styles: And look at Regal lay it on thick for Curt Hennig…
Heenan: Never underestimate the effectiveness of sucking up.
Hennig flashes a big cheesy grin when suddenly Chris Jericho’s face appears on the Jumbotron.
Styles: IT’S CHRIS JERICHO!
The crowd erupts in cheers, and Hennig and Regal start to feed off them. Hennig raises Regal’s hand overhead and they start to pump their fists like a couple of politicians who just got elected to office.
Hennig: You can’t talk to me that way,
Hennig: Oh yeah? Well what are you waiting on,
Hennig looks up to see
Heenan: Ha! He ran off…
Styles: I don’t think so, Brain…
The crowd starts to roar again as
Styles: THERE HE IS!
Regal starts to step in front of Hennig, but the Mayhem Commissioner calls him off. He strips off his jacket and throws it on the stage, motioning to
Heenan: There ya go. See, Joey? Curt isn’t afraid. He’s ready to fight
Styles: Well he better be ready!
Here comes
Styles: HEY WAIT!
Heenan: What a forearm!
Angle pounces onto
Styles:
Hennig dusts some non-existent lint off his shoulders and adjusts the jacket just so, before strolling closer to
Heenan: Uh oh…
Angle smiles and hooks an ankle lock!
Styles: What the hell?!?
Styles: ANKLE LOCK! That’s Ken Shamrock’s move!
Heenan: And that’s the same angle
Styles: Chris Jericho is getting decimated!
Styles: Curt Hennig has executed a master stroke here. He has ambushed Chris Jericho, and left him down and injured just hours away from tonight’s big match!
Referees, trainers and other CWF personnel come hustling out to tend to
COMMERCIALS
[FADE IN] from the commercial break to see a handheld camera backpedaling as Chris Jericho literally is being carried down a hallway in the backstage area of the
Trainer 1: Careful… careful…
Trainer 2: We’re gonna take care of you, Chris. OK? We’re gonna take care of you.
Trainer 1: Come on, let’s get him in there.
The trainers carry
[FADE] to a shot of Paul Heyman standing by.
Heyman: Hello, friends. Paul Heyman here, coming to you from the locker room of employees headed to Mayhem, where my new employer Curt Hennig continues to fashion his roster. With that, I’d like to bring in the first man drafted by Mr. Hennig tonight… the Fallen Angel, Christopher Daniels.
Daniels strolls into the shot wearing the dark shirt and slacks he had on when selected.
Heyman: Chris, congratulations.
Daniels: Well thank you, Paul. And I intend to revolutionize the cruiserweight division that Curt Hennig has planned for Mayhem. But you see, I can’t help but be a little upset… a little angry about where I was chosen. Because, while every other available cruiserweight was busy beating up one another in a battle royal, there was only one in the main event! And that was me. Not only was I in the main event… Paul Heyman, there’s no dispute. I stole the show! And yet Curt chooses to draft Eddie Guerrero in front of me? Eddie Guerrero! Eddie, he might have the past accomplishments, but he’s on the way down. He’s over the hill. You’re looking… at the next rising star in the cruiserweight division. And I will prove that this Sunday, when I step into the ring and win that Cruiserweight Title. And that’s the gospel… according to the Fallen Angel.
Daniels smirks and walks off, leaving Heyman standing there.
[CUT] back to the arena.
Styles: Back to live action, and Roddy Piper is at the podium ready to make his next pick!
Piper: Boy, Curt Hennig just can’t seem to catch a break. Even the guys he drafts end up mad at him! Although, I guess we can breathe easy that Daniels won’t be gettin’ booked in a hair match anytime soon. Now… as for the little… scene we had a few minutes ago, I’m gonna wait to make any ruling until I can get backstage, meet with Chris Jericho and get the story direct from the horse’s mouth. Until then, Curt, I figure one bad turn by you… deserves another one by me!
Piper flashes his patented demented grin.
Piper: With that, I’d like to introduce my next draft pick… the original British Bulldog, Davey Boy Smith!
Styles: Piper’s done it again!
Davey Boy heads out through the curtain, and doesn’t look too pleased. He quickly shakes Piper’s hand, then turns to leave the stage. Piper shrugs and leaves as well as the scene cuts back to Heenan and Styles at the announce desk.
Styles: Well, Roddy Piper continues to make waves, now he’s drafted Davey Boy Smith to prevent Hennig from keeping him and Regal together as a tag team…
Heenan: Not the first one he’s split up, either. Piper has been the Yoko Ono of teams and stables during this draft.
Styles: It’s not his fault he’s always picking after Hennig.
Heenan: Oh. So it’s Kane’s fault, then.
Styles: Well, no, I never said that.
Heenan: Hey, you blame Kane because he lost that match to Sabu. There’s no shame in having an opinion. Pretty bold ripping Kane publicly like that…
Styles: I didn’t ri—
Heenan: He probably won’t be too happy, either.
Styles: Brain…
Heenan: Say what you will about Kane, but I don’t think behemoths with massive burn scars take well to being criticized.
Styles: But I…
Heenan: Especially when someone calls them a no-talent loser.
Styles: Will ya stop!
Heenan: Hmm?
Styles: Stop putting words in my mouth!
Heenan: Hey, I wasn’t the one that said Kane couldn’t win a match even if his opponent was blind, deaf, dumb and handicapped.
Styles just stands there, staring at Heenan, who begins scribbling something on a pad. After a few seconds, Heenan looks up.
Heenan: What?
Styles: How did Gorilla do it for so many years? You’ve been out here for about a half hour and I’m already at my wit’s end.
Heenan: Took that long? I said your wit’s length was 15 minutes, tops!
Styles: [shakes his head] Fans, we’ll be right back…
COMMERCIALS
[FADE IN to Curt Hennig at the podium, waiting to make his next pick. He is getting booed loudly even before he speaks a single word.]
Hennig: Ladies and gentlemen, I would just like to say I am shocked and appalled by the actions of Kurt Angle a few moments ago. I challenged Chris Jericho to come out here, and engage in a fair fight. Instead, Kurt Angle attacked him from behind, entirely of his own volition, and certainly with no prompting from myself. It was a premeditated attack on his part, committed with malicious intent and he WILL be punished for it. Kurt, I hope you’re listening. Because effective immediately, you… must pay a fine… of one dollar.
Hennig smirks as the fans start to boo with renewed vigor.
Styles: ONE DOLLAR?!?
Heenan: Hey, it’s the spirit of the fine, not the amount. Besides, a dollar goes a long way…
Styles: Yeah, during the Depression! Well, I guess we know now what that favor Angle and Hennig were talking about entailed…
Hennig: Roddy Piper… you tried to screw me, by putting me in that match tonight against Chris Jericho. Well who’s the master of mind games now, Piper? You thought you had me in an unwinnable situation—a match against
Styles: Got the guts?! His ankle’s been shredded by Kurt Angle, Bobby!
Heenan: Hey, you never heard of playing hurt?
Styles: Bah…
Hennig: See Piper, just like that, I’ve turned the tables on you. I now have the upper hand! So get used to it, Hot Rod. Because, in the coming months, as you try to compete against me, I WILL come out on top… each! And every! Time!
Hennig starts pounding on the podium for emphasis.
Styles: Jeeze… it’s like a stump speech during a Senate campaign.
Heenan: I wouldn’t vote for him. Unless I’d been drafted by him, of course. Then I’d be the guy hitting the graveyards for votes…
Hennig: With that, I’d like to make my next pick. Ladies and gentlemen… from D-X… “Bad Ass” Billy Gunn!
Heenan: Hey!
Styles: So the Bad Ass is headed to Mayhem! That makes it official, Brain. Unless there is a trade later tonight, D-X officially has been split up by this draft, just like every other pre-existing stable in the CWF.
Gunn strolls out onto the stage, with a sour look on his face.
Styles: Billy doesn’t look happy.
Heenan: I guess we can call him the Sad Ass now…
Styles: Oh, nice!
Hennig stands there, arm outstretched to shake the hand of his latest draftee. Gunn extends his hand…
Heenan: Ah, see? A nice show of resp—OH!
Gunn answers with a crotch chop!
Styles: Ha!
Gunn backpedals with a smirk, as Hennig stands there fuming.
Styles: I don’t think it’s going to be a very positive working relationship between Curt Hennig and Billy Gunn.
Heenan: Especially if Piper follows his current strategy and drafts the Roaddog.
Hennig stands there, still seething, as the scene [FADES OUT]
[FADE IN backstage to Kurt Angle, standing by with Mean Gene]
Gene: I’m here with Olympic gold medalist and United States Tag champion Kurt Angle. And Kurt, in my opinion you’ve got a lot of explaining to do about what you did to Chris Jericho!
Angle: Well ya know Mean Gene, I must have missed the memo where your opinion actually matters. See, Gene, I conduct myself under the premise of the three I’s. [starts to count them off on his fingers] Intelligence. Intensity. And integrity.
Gene: Integrity! You think your actions out there represented integrity? Attacking a man from behind, Kurt!
Angle: Hey! Gene, you’ve got it all wrong. Sometimes, living by the three I’s means taking on people who don’t. And from what I’ve seen in the way Chris Jericho treats Curt Hennig—his boss—he lives his life with absolutely zero integrity. So I took him and did what was necessary. I assaulted him and snapped his ankle in two. And I’ll do the same to anyone else Curt Hennig tells me to. And if anyone has a problem with that, they can come and find me. Here’s a hint: I’m the one… with the gold medal. Do you have a problem with that, Gene?
Angle stares down Mean Gene, whose eyes begin to bulge before he starts backing away slowly. Angle flashes the smug smile of a stereotypical bully before turning…
To see Ken Shamrock in his face.
Shamrock leans forward at Angle, forcing the Olympian to flinch backward a bit.
Shamrock: You know, that gold medal doesn’t give you the right to do whatever you’d like. And it damn sure doesn’t give you the right to use MY ankle lock ON CHRIS JERICHO!
Angle: Hey buddy, it’s not like you’ve got a copyright on the move…
Shamrock: IT’S MY MOVE, DAMMIT! MINE! AND I SHOULD BREAK YOU IN HALF FOR STEALING IT!
Angle: Oh, REALLY… well I don’t see anybody standing in your way. Why don’t y—URK!
In a sudden blur of motion like a striking cobra, Shamrock’s left hand reaches out and slams Angle against the wall. He rears back with his right… when suddenly HAKU barges into the shot! He shoves Shamrock away and starts punching at air, yelling in Samoan gibberish and gesturing adamantly to the UFC champ. Shamrock immediately begins to back off.
Angle: Oh yeah, not so brave now, are ya?
Shamrock just glares murderously at Angle as he backpedals away.
Angle maintains the stare until Shamrock’s gone, then turns to Haku looking like a kid on Christmas morning.
Angle: Haku! You saved me! I mean, I coulda taken him, I’m an Olympic champion after all… but you saved me!
Haku: Vabadoosh.
Angle: Absolutely, I agree! [Haku gives Angle an odd look as he keeps talking] Buddy, for the first time, you’re finally starting to operate by the three I’s. Now what do you say we go out there and send New Jack back to the hood for good. Are ya with me?!
Angle raises his hand for a high-five. A grinning Haku winds up… and blasts Angle across the chest with an overhand chop! Angle cringes at the sickening impact, as an oblivious Haku just smiles, gives a thumb’s-up and walks off. Angle hobbles after him.
Angle: [speaking hoarsely] Go team…
[CUT] to Roddy Piper’s war room, where the Rowdy Scot is scribbling on a piece of paper as Jerry Lawler waits to interview him.
Lawler: The King here with Commissioner Piper. And Hot Rod, the question everybody has right now… will Chris Jericho be able to compete tonight?
Piper: Jerry, I’ve been in contact with the training room, and right now they’re still working on
There’s a knock at the door, and a slow grin spreads across the Rowdy Scot’s face.
Piper: Oh! Sorry, King, we’ll have to cut this short. My appointment is here… Come iiiin!
[PAN LEFT] to see Kanyon walk into the room. The Flock member and Innovator of Offense has a sour look on his face.
Piper: Why it’s Chris Kanyon! C’mon in, buddy! Good to see ya. Hey, nice shirt! Surprised to see one of Raven’s crew dressin’ so nice. I was picturin’ torn jeans… stuff like that, and you show up in a nice black shirt an’ a pair o’ Dockers! Don’t exactly scream “dark and Gothic”, now does it?
Kanyon: That why you called for me? Fashion talk?
Piper starts to cackle, before instantly breaking off.
Piper: No. I called you here to talk. Now, your good pal—hell, your leader, your… messiah—Raven, is already headed to Thursday nights. And I’ve decided he needs some company. So congratulations, Kanyon, you’re my 24th-round draft pick!
Kanyon stands there, not quite sure how to react.
Piper: Say somethin, pal! This is a big moment!
Kanyon: That’s… good?
Piper: Darn right it is! And I wanna celebrate by giving you your first match.
Piper stands, tugging on the lapels of his leather jacket, then leans in close to Kanyon.
Piper: See, I remember what happened a couple weeks ago. You know—attacking me from behind? I’m like an elephant, buddy boy. I NEVER forget! And I always get payback. So tonight, you’re going to face KANE.
A slack-jawed expression of shock appears on Kanyon’s face.
Piper: And that match starts right now. Get to the ring! GO!
Mute, Kanyon shuffles out of the ring, giving one last look back at Jerry Lawler, perhaps seeking some sort of appeal. Piper, meanwhile, is still grinning.
Piper: This is gonna be good…
20 minute time limit; referee: H.C. Loc
[CUT] back to a wide shot of the stage, as “Nothing Else” Matters starts and the Flock entrance video begins.
Styles: Unbelievable, Brain! Piper drafts Kanyon, and immediately sends him out here to face the Big Red Machine!
Heenan: Never make a Scotsman angry, Joey. Anyone who willingly wears a kilt is going to have some issues…
Kanyon steps through the curtain, head down and sighing.
Styles: And look at Kanyon! He looks like somebody headed to the gallows back in the olden days!
Kanyon gets in the ring and starts to remove his shirt as the lights go out.
Heenan: Oh, good, give Kanyon some privacy so he can change cl—GAH!
FOOOOOM!
Heenan is startled by the plumes of flame shooting off the stage as Kane stalks through the curtain toward the ring.
Styles: I think my broadcast partner just soiled himself!
Heenan: Did not…
[CUT] to a close-up of Kanyon, who’s pumping his fists in an apparent attempt to get fired up as Kane approaches. The moment Kane steps onto the apron, Kanyon attacks!
Styles: Here we go!
DING DING DING!
Kanyon drills Kane with a running forearm, and the big man simply drops to the floor on his feet.
Heenan: There ya go! Take it to him!
Kanyon goes for a slingshot plancha… Kane catches him!
Styles: Uh oh…
Kane rams Kanyon spine-first into the post, then slams him onto the floor.
Styles: Sick impact!
Heenan: Did… did Kanyon just BOUNCE?!?
Kanyon cringes and is left limp on the concrete, but not for long as Kane shoves his carcass into the ring. Kanyon is trying to stand, but he’s obviously in a bad way. Kane pulls Kanyon up by two handfuls of hair… then hits a wicked uppercut under the chin to send him careening back against the ropes… and forward into a goozle. CHOKESLAM!
Styles: And Kanyon gets driven into the mat!
Heenan: Kanyon’s hurt. He needs a rest… a timeout… a bathroom break… something!
Kane paces back and forth a bit as the fans are going wild. Kane pauses to adjust his gloves, scoops Kanyon up…
Styles:
Kane stays on top for the obvious and academic three count.
WIN: Kane by pin in 1:04
Styles: Talk about power! Talk about dominance! Kane put on a display against Kanyon…
Heenan: But it was unfair, Joey. Kanyon didn’t have any warning or time to prepare, he got thrown right to the wolves… or, in this case, thrown to the 7-foot burn victim…
Kane stands over Kanyon’s lifeless carcass, raises his arms, then drops them, sending fire jetting out from the four ringposts. The referee jumps, but Kane just stands there, before backing up and going backwards over the ropes to the floor.
Styles: Roddy Piper’s hired heavy hitter Kane sends a message here tonight. Don’t cross the boss! We’ll be back after this.
COMMERCIALS
30 minute time limit; referee: Charles Robinson
[FADE IN from the commercial break to see Curt Hennig standing at the podium, shaking his head.]
Styles: Fans, welcome back to the second night of the CWF Draft. Curt Hennig is waiting to make his next pick, and he does not seem happy.
Hennig: You know… sometimes I just don’t understand. Roddy Piper comes out here, and he slanders my good name. He says I’m unfair. He says I persecute employees who slighted me… or even those who I may just not like.
Styles: He’s right!
Heenan: Shhhhh.
Styles: Why are you sucking up to Hennig?
Heenan: Sorry, force of habit.
Hennig: And yet Roddy Piper does the exact same things I’m accused of… AND YOU MINDLESS MORONS CHEER HIM FOR IT!
The fans respond, some may say predictably, by cheering loudly.
Hennig, meanwhile, just stands there and stews.
Hennig: You people are hopeless! Forget it! My next draft pick... not that you’ll appreciate it… is Roaddog!
The fans cheer.
Styles: So Curt Hennig keeps the New Age Outlaws together!
Heenan: Hennig talks a big game, but who knows what he’ll do about that show of disrespect from Billy Gunn earlier tonight…
Hennig: Don’t even bother coming out here, Roaddog. See, these people need to learn respect. They need to learn what’s truly important. They need… a role model. Ladies and gentlemen, introducing a TRUE American hero… Kurt! Angle!
“Medal” starts up, and Hennig breaks into applause as Kurt Angle, Haku and Flip head out onto the stage.
Styles: Oh yeah, role model… Who is he trying to fool? Role models don’t attack unsuspecting people from behind. Role models don’t try to break a man’s ankle!
Heenan: That depends, Joey.
Styles: On what?
Heenan: On what kind of role model you have.
Styles: Who’d look for that kind of underhanded behavior in a role mod—Know what, nevermind…
Angle heads for Hennig, shakes his hand and gives the Commissioner of Mayhem a big hug. All this does is provoke the fans even more, and the boos intensify as Angle leads Haku, Tony Schiavone and Flip to the ring.
Styles: Well now it’s time for the United States Tag Title match. This originally was scheduled to be a contest between Team Angle and the Gangstas… but Curt Hennig squashed that idea by drafting Shelton Benjamin and breaking up the challengers. Piper responded by upholding the match, and allowing New Jack to choose his own partner for this contest. And if there’s a title change, Piper’s promised to draft this mystery partner.
Heenan: How insane is Piper? He basically gave New Jack authority to hand-pick a guy that Piper may have to live with on the roster of his show. That’s like hiring Jeffrey Dahmer to teach you how to cook!
Styles: Oh great, now being joined by Kurt Angle’s PERSONAL match announcer…
Schiavone: Hi fellas! Wow, what a match. What a night. I know both of you are as tired as me, tossing and turning in a sleepless night anticipating what might be the most important tag team match in the history of our great sport!
Styles: I…
Heenan: Good to see you too, Tony!
Team Angle now is in the ring, and the fans are all over them. That doesn’t keep Flip from trying to start some cheers.
That attempt swiftly ends when “Natural Born Killaz” starts up over the speakers.
Styles: And here come the challengers!
New Jack strolls out on the stage, looking exceedingly pleased with himself.
Heenan: Well, half of the challengers anyway…
Schiavone: I don’t think New Jack wants to take these two on in a handicap match. Team Angle are two finely tuned athletes!
Styles: And he’s got a microphone.
[CUT] to a close-up of New Jack on the stage.
New Jack: Now I’m out here… ain’t got no weapons… promised Hot Rod I wouldn’t cuss…
New Jack gets a dissatisfied smirk on his face with that last proclamation.
New Jack: Because it’s time. It’s time to announce who gonna watch my back tonight! Now this wasn’t easy. Lotta homies applied fo’ the job. TOO many… Now there ain’t too many people who I respect in this bidness, but I called one I do to help me decide. I called Terry! Funk! An’ he said, [Jack’s voice gets all high and nasaly in a bad imitation of the Funker] Jack… I know of a man you should use. He’s a man who trained under the Bull himself, Manny Fernandez. And he’s one of the toughest kids I’ve seen break into wrestling in quite some time. [goes back into his normal voice] Now I met this homey, and he’s almost as crazy as me. I know he gonna represent. [points to the ring] Kurt Angle! Get ready. Because tonight… you face New Jack, an’ a man makin his debut in national wrestling… the Notorious 187… HOMICIDE!
The fans really don’t know how to react as a short man wearing a Yankees T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, a bandana on his head and another covering his nose and mouth walks out onto the stage. He touches fists with New Jack before they walk side by side to the ring.
Schiavone: BWAHAHAHAHAHA! This may be the fastest victory in CWF history…
Styles: You sound pretty confident, Tony.
Heenan: Do ya blame him? I didn’t know we let midgets into the CWF…
Styles: So New Jack goes to the independent ranks for his partner, selecting a wrestler known only as Homicide… Fans, you’ll have to forgive me for not knowing too much about this individual…
Schiavone: That never stopped me from being the greatest commentator in the history of professional wrestling, Joey.
Styles: Um… right…
New Jack and Homicide are in the ring now, and Homicide climbs the corner ropes, beating his chest and whipping off the bandana covering his face… but to little or no reaction except for his association with New Jack.
Heenan: Is he for real? C’mon… this guy looks like he shrank in the dryer!
Styles: Well fans, looks like we’re ready to begin this match… let’s go to The Fink for the introductions.
[CUT] to a wide shot of the ring. Finkel is in the middle of the squared circle.
Fink: Ladies and gentlemen, this match is for the United States Tag Team Titles! Introducing first, the challengers… from
Styles: Finkel doesn’t have any information about this guy either!
[CUT] to a close-up of the challengers. Homicide is pacing back and forth, and New Jack whispers something to his partner.
Heenan: He looks mad, Joey. Do you think somebody left his favorite toy on the top shelf?
Styles: Now, BRAIN!
Heenan: Hehehehe.
Fink: And their opponents, accompanied to the ring tonight by the Prince of Pep, Flip… weighing in this evening at a combined 500½ pounds… they are the reigning, and undefeated United States Tag Team Champions… Kurt Angle! Haku! Team! AAAANGGLLLLLEE!
Schiavone: Be prepared, gentlemen. Sit back, steady your hearts and witness tag team wrestling at its finest…
DING DING DING!
Angle and New Jack start off for the two teams, but Angle points to the corner.
Styles: And it looks as if Angle wants a piece of the newcomer, Homicide…
New Jack shrugs and tags his partner, who darts into the ring.
Heenan; well, here we go, first look at the new guy…
Angle starts to laugh, and holds out his hand a good 2 inches over Homicide’s head…
Schiavone: Hehe, it’s funny because Homicide is short.
But Homicide hauls off and slaps the Olympian!
Styles: Oh my GOD!
The impact snaps Angle’s head around, and now Homicide opens up with a barrage of punches on the Olympian! He’s whaling away!
Schiavone: He…
Styles: Tony Schiavone and the Brain left speechless as Homicide unloads on Angle with unrestrained aggression!
But Angle grabs Homicide bodily, and swings him over to the mat! He starts delivering wicked elbow smashes to the side of his head with a disgusted sneer on his face.
Schiavone: Yeah, Kurt! Get him!
Homicide counters… by grabbing hold of Angle’s nose?!
Schiavone: HEY!
He twists it back and forth as Angle screams in pain! Homicide squirrels free, stands behind a kneeling Angle and starts gouging at one of his eyes with the other hand!
Heenan: C’mon, ref!
Schiavone: Yeah, c’mon, ref!
He does so until right before the five count, then immediately grabs Angle’s arm and rolls him over into a Majistral cradle.
One…
Two…
Thr—Angle kicks free!
Schiavone: TOO CLOSE!
The Olympian rolls to the ropes as Homicide leans in toward him and holds his fingers out with a confident glare on his face. Flip, meanwhile, is screaming something to the referee about Homicide holding the tights.
Styles: Kurt Angle’s never been pinned in the CWF… but Homicide letting him know he was THAT close to scoring the victory.
Heenan; But that’s not fair, Angle’s a finely-tuned athlete. He’s not used to something as crude as nose-pulling. What is this, a Three Stooges exhibition?
Angle gets up with a sneer and blood dripping from his nose as Homicide backs up… when Haku slaps Angle on the back! The Olympian is surprised at first, them smiles as he gives way to his bigger partner.
Heenan: Homicide better watch out now. I’ve managed this man Haku. I know how tough and dangerous he is.
Schiavone: You should see him in front of an all-you-can-eat pizza buffet, Bobby.
New Jack, meanwhile, calls out to Homicide. The Notorious 187 turns and tags in his partner. Many of the hardcore fans in the crowd cheer as New Jack enters.
Styles: But has Haku ever encountered someone like the Original Hardcore Gangsta?
He and Haku circle briefly, then advance toward one another. Haku winds up for one of his quick punches, New Jack ducks it, knee to the gut… as the Jumbotron flickers to life.
Styles: Another draft pick coming…
Schiavone: This could end up the most historic draft pick in the history of our sport!
ADRENALINE
25TH ROUND
HOMICIDE
Styles: Piper selects this newcomer, Homicide!
New Jack with a double axehandle smash, followed by a knee lift to snap his head right back up.
Heenan: That’s a real gamble, Joey. If they lose, Piper’s stuck with some guy from the independent circuit he knows nothing about…
Styles: But he couldn’t risk passing him up, Brain. Remember, Hennig could’ve taken Homicide if Piper drafted someone else.
New Jack with a quick barrage of rights and lefts as the announcers offer their analysis, but Haku answers with a wicked knife-edge chop to the chest! New Jack with a punch… Haku with a chop! Punch! Chop! Punch! Chop! Punch! Chop! Punch! And suddenly Haku opens up with one of his patented barrages of strikes.
Heenan: Uh-oh, Joey!
Schiavone: Yeah! Sic him, Haku!
Styles: Did you just say ‘Sic him’?!?
Haku overwhelms New Jack with a relentless salvo of forearm blows and open-handed strikes. New Jack is on rubber legs! Haku grabs him by the ears and hits a wicked headbutt between the eyes, before bodily flinging New Jack into the neutral southwest corner.
Heenan: New Jack’s gotta get outta there…
Schiavone: Finish him!
Haku charges in for a follow… but New Jack moves! The impact staggers Haku, who gets spun around by New Jack… and picked up for a scoop slam! New Jack follows with a leaping knee drop to the head!
Styles; New Jack stands and he’s fired up! New Jack pumping his fist, and I think he’s starting to believe they can win this match. And these fans are starting to believe it too!
Schiavone: Joey… if I may so… that was the most idiotic statement in the history of this sport.
Styles: Yeah get back to me when you know what a sidewalk slam is…
As the announcers banter, New Jack stomps at Haku while he attempts to rise. Haku starts to get up anyway, as New Jack fires away with windmill-like forearms across the back. Now an uppercut, and Haku actually seems to be reeling. New Jack shoves him back into the ropes, and lays in with a two-handed choke. As New Jack releases it and goes for the Irish whip, Angle reaches out and is able to graze Haku’s shoulder.
Styles: Blind tag…
Haku is able to reverse the Irish whip. Goes for a clothesline, New Jack ducks it, but runs right into Angle, who catches him with a brutal knee lift! As New Jack’s head snaps up, Angle steps behind him… German suplex!
Heenan: BOOM!
Schiavone: Yes! Folks, we just witnessed one of the finest displays of suplex technique you will ever see in a wrestling ring!
Flip does a cartwheel on the floor and comes up celebrating, while New Jack is left twitching on the mat after the impact. Now Angle starts to strut and preen a bit, interspersed by stomps to the head of New Jack. Angle promptly sits on New Jack’s back and hooks a Camel Clutch… before using one hand to pull back on New Jack’s nose!
Styles: And now it’s Angle’s turn to work the nose.
Schiavone: Yeah! Get him!
Angle now BARKING at Homicide as blood continues to drip from his own nose. He releases the illegal hold right before Charles Robinson reaches his five count.
Styles: I don’t hear you complaining now that Angle’s using the same illegal tactics Homicide did…
Angle yanks New Jack up and tags Haku, before hooking New Jack in a full nelson… so Haku can hit an overhand chop to the chest. Haku grabs Jack by the ears as Angle ducks out… and opens up with a series of vicious headbutts! Haku rears back, bellows… and hits a big headbutt to finish him off! New Jack goes down hard, and Haku stands over him, pounding his chest and yammering in his authentic brand of Samoan gibberish.
Heenan: One of the hardest heads in wrestling, guys…
Schiavone: Especially after eating 17 burritos before the match… oh wait… that was me.
Styles: *sighs*
Haku pulls New Jack to his feet… then hits a measured overhand chop to the head, followed by a strike to the throat that puts him right back down. Haku now pacing back and forth like a crazed animal of some sort… then heads to Angle and… makes a normal tag?!
Heenan: Hey, how about that!
Angle doesn’t seem to know quite what to think as he heads into the ring, but the split-second look of elation fades as he closes in on New Jack.
Schiavone: I KNEW Haku would join the team!
Heenan: Well he is a former king, remember?
Angle picks him up from behind and hits a stiff looking belly-to-back suplex. He floats over and hooks a leg for the pin.
One…
Two…
New Jack with a shoulder up.
Styles: New Jack escapes the pin, but you’ve got to wonder how much longer he can last against Angle and Haku…
Angle rolls New Jack onto his belly and starts slapping him in the back of the head, goading him to try and fight back.
Heenan: Stop taunting the guy and finish him!
Schiavone: Kurt can win this match any time he wants.
Angle yanks New Jack up… and hits a double underhook suplex, immediately springing to his feet and signaling for the finish.
Schiavone: See? Yeah! Take him out, Kurt!
Angle waits behind New Jack and goes for the Olympic Slam… but immediately drops New Jack, because he’s gouging at one of Angle’s eyes!
Heenan: WHOA!
Styles: New Jack going for Angle’s eye in desperation!
Heenan: That’s just wrong!
Angle SCREAMS in pain as New Jack releases the eye, kicks Angle in the gut… DDT!
Styles: Angle gets spiked headfirst into the canvas! And both men are down! What a turn!
Schiavone: That should have been an automatic disqualification, Joey Styles! That was the most egregious eye gouge I’ve seen in 20 years in this sport!
And Homicide is clamoring to get in the ring as a lot of the fans start to clap and stomp. New Jack making the crawl…
Heenan: He’s got to get there, Joey!
Angle starts to stand, and instead of tagging Haku, he goes for New Jack…
Styles: There’s the tag to Homicide!
Homicide immediately goes for a running boot… he misses! Angle backpedals, falling back into his own corner where Haku tags himself in! The fans ooh and ahh as the much larger Tongan enters the ring.
Heenan: Oh, here we go, Joey!
Schiavone: Yeah! Let’s see how that little thug does against a REAL tough guy.
The two men size up each other as the Jumbotron flickers to life.
MAYHEM
26TH ROUND
X-PAC
Styles: Hennig picks up the final member of DX!
Meanwhile Homicide back into the ropes for a shoulder, he hits Haku and drops right to the mat.
Schiavone: Ha!
Haku beats on his chest, screaming at Homicide in what we can only assume is Samoan. The smaller man gets up and lays into Haku with a wicked forearm shot to the jaw! But Haku just shrugs it off and hooks a Tongan Death Grip!
Schiavone: YES! GET HIM! CHOKE HIM OUT! PUT HIM DOWN!
Homicide’s eyes bulge in surprise, and Haku bellows in triumph… until Homicide connects on a kick below the belt!
Schiavone: HEY!
Heenan: Awww right in the coconuts!
Homicide shrugs free, double blows to the trapezius and a standing dropkick. Haku teetering… Homicide stands and hits a SECOND kick below the belt!
Schiavone: COME ON! Where’s the DQ?!?!
Finally, a pained Haku drops to his knees. Homicide runs off the ropes behind him… Shining Wizard! Several fans OOOOH at the impact.
Styles: Haku got CLOCKED!
Heenan: Did you see his head snap back?!?! Wait, cover!
One…
Two…
Angle pulls Homicide off, keeps hold of his right foot and…
Styles: Angle with that ankle lock again!
Heenan: Ken Shamrock’s not gonna like that…
Homicide is in agony, but New Jack makes the save, drilling Angle with a big clothesline. The Olympian rolls to the neutral northeast corner, and New Jack starts stomping him.
Styles: Some Greco-Roman kicking as you’ve called it, Brain…
Heenan: Not funny!
Homicide up, hobbles a bit… then charges into the corner with a running knee scrape across the face of Angle!
Styles: What a wicked move! A little Japanese strong style from Homicide…
Heenan: Right into that injured nose!
Homicide and New Jack touch fists, before New Jack gives Homicide a shove, barking at his partner to try and pump him up. They turn and Haku charges with a double clothesline. New Jack ducks but Homicide takes a vicious impact!
Schiavone: ALL RIGHT!
New Jack starts drilling Haku with rights and lefts, and the two start slugging it out as referee Charles Robinson tries to separate them. Homicide, meanwhile, is down and hurting… as Flip slides into the ring!
Styles: Now get him out of there!
Flip goes for a spinwheel kick… Homicide ducks it, then catches Flip with a reverse mule kick south of the border.
Heenan: Right in the pom poms!
Homicide steps behind Flip with his head against the back of the Prince of Pep, hooks both arms and stands to leave Flip upside down in mid air… before sitting out and DRIVING Flip headfirst into the mat!
Crowd: OOOOOOOOOH!
Styles: Oh my GOD, what a move!
The fans are on their feet, applauding and going crazy as Homicide rolls to a vertical base.
Heenan: I… I think Flip is DEAD!
Styles: He got drilled… and Tony Schiavone has been left speechless by what just happened to the Prince of Pep!
Homicide pulls Flip’s carcass up and tosses him out of the ring. He makes a throat-slitting gesture… as Angle slides up behind him. Waistlock! BIG German suplex! Angle releases Homicide, and the much smaller man goes flying backward through the air, landing right on HIS head!
Styles: What a suplex!
Schiavone: That’s why he’s great, Joey! And all the mean little quips of yours don’t erase the immutable fact that Kurt Angle is and always will be BETTER than you…
Haku chucks New Jack out of the ring as Angle picks Homicide up… Olympic Slam!
Heenan: There it is! Nice knowin ya, Homicide…
Angle goes for the cover. But Robinson waves it off.
Styles: No pin! Angle’s not the legal man! And the Olympian is LIVID!
Angle gets right in the referee’s face, as Haku goes right back to Homicide, hooking him for a piledriver. Homicide drops to his knees, and wraps both arms around one of Haku’s legs in desperation. Haku trying to get him up but Homicide won’t let go.
Styles: Look at Homicide keep fighting! Meanwhile Angle’s giving the referee a piece of his mind…
Heenan: Piece? He might be giving him the whole thing!
Haku starts drilling Homicide with forearm shots, as New Jack climbs on the apron and grabs Angle from behind! Angle turns and New Jack yanks him over the top rope and they fall to the floor in a heap. Meanwhile Haku’s pounded Homicide down to the mat. He bends to pick him up… Homicide with a small package! One! Two! Three!
Schiavone: What?!?
Styles: OH MY GOD!
Robinson calls for the bell as Haku sits up in shock!
Heenan: Did that just happen?!?
Schiavone: Of course it didn’t happen!
Styles: Hell yes it did! HOMICIDE AND NEW JACK JUST BEAT TEAM ANGLE!
Bedlam erupts in the crowd, as Homicide rolls to the outside with a glazed look on his face. New Jack hustles around the corner of the ring and tackles Homicide with a big hug, as Robinson hands them the United States Tag Title belts.
Schiavone: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Finkel: Here are your winners… and the NEEEEEW United States Tag Team Champions… New Jack and Homicide!
Heenan: Homicide paid a physical price, Joey. I think he’s got a concussion at least… But I don’t think he cares right now!
Angle is standing on the apron, apparently numb in disbelief, as Haku starts to stand while Flip remains prone on the floor.
Schiavone: I feel nauseous…
Styles: Talk about an upset! New Jack brings an unknown into the company… and together they win tag team gold! Roddy Piper has stolen one title from Curt Hennig and brought it to Adrenaline. Could the World Heavyweight Championship be next?!?
WIN: New Jack & Homicide by pin in 10:24 (new champs)
[CUT] to the back, where Roddy Piper is watching the live feed with his feet up while eating a hoagie.
Piper: Outstanding… and I like how the match turned out, too.
Piper goes to take another bite when the door slams open off camera and Ric Flair walks into view. Flair is followed by Mike Awesome, and there’s an abundance of WHOOOOOs for the Nature Boy.
Flair: Now look here, Piper… You’ve already made one big trade, and you can make another. Do what it takes to get Malenko and Candido on Adrenaline, trade anyone else on the roster and… and you’ll have the Horsemen to back you up anytime, anyplace.
Piper: Really? Do… do ya mean that, Ric?
Flair: Roddy, you know me. And I may be many things, but above all else, I’m a man of my word.
Piper: The Horsemen at my beck and call, wow…
The Rowdy Scot mulls the offer, and takes another bite of his hoagie as he thinks.
Piper: Ric… I’ve just got one question for you. Are you retarded?
The confidence fades from Flair’s face.
Piper: Do you honestly think I would ever… EVER take you at your word?! You’ve stabbed more people in the back than a third-world kidney thief! And I should know, because I’m the same way! Ric, the only way to stay safe in my position… is to know who to trust. And I will never. EVER. Trust. You. But, I do have good news. First… I’ve decided to take your old pal Double A, Arn Anderson himself, with my next draft pick!
Flair smiles at this piece of news.
Piper: And second… as recognition of your abilities and skills, I’ve decided to book you in a match for next week’s special debut episode of Adrenaline! See ya then, Ric.
Flair: Um… OK, then. C’mon, Mike.
Flair leaves with Awesome as Piper sits there with a wicked grin.
Heenan: I don’t like the look on Piper’s face. He’s got something bad planned for Naitch, I just know it!
Styles: Piper compiling the final pieces of the puzzle as the Adrenaline show takes shape.
Heenan: You’ve gotta be fair to Flair!
Styles: Quiet, you…
COMMERCIALS
[FADE IN] from the commercial break to see Brand X assembled somewhere backstage, along with Homicide. Sandman and Tommy Dreamer are congratulating the new
Sandman: Fellas… [points to Homicide, who stands there silent holding a Coors Light] I think this man proved what he’s worth tonight.
New Jack: You damn right. He represented! Now we gotta represent for him!
Dreamer: Yeah! You did great out there, Homicide. Reminds me of some of the beatings I’ve taken. Like one time… Tazz dropped me on my head with one of his suplexes? I had a headache for days. Oh, and this other time? Tazz, he dropped me right on my head. You know, with one of those suplexes.
Homicide: And… you had a headache?
Dreamer: YEAH! For days! Wow, New Jack musta told you that one…
Homicide gives a funny look to Sandman, who just waves him off. He begins to talk while brandishing his
Sandman: Enough. Jack… Homicide… you took the belts away from that Olympic crybaby and his pom-pom-waving fairy. There’s only one thing to do now… [points the cane at Homicide] Say hello to the NEWEST member of Brand X!
Dreamer and New Jack start to cheer, and then pour their beers over Homicide’s head! Sandman joins in, as they douse Homicide and the scene [FADES OUT]
[CUT] back to the announce table, where Joey Styles and Bobby Heenan are standing by.
Styles: Brand X, celebrating the monumental upset we just witnessed like a team that just won the World Series!
Heenan: You’re right to call it an upset. It was a shocking win. I’m STILL in shock! And for all I know, Tony Schiavone’s probably overdosing on snack cakes right now to try and kill the pain!
Styles: You’ve got to give Brand X credit. They lose Shelton Benjamin to Mayhem as part of this draft… but he’s already been replaced with this newcomer known only as Homicide! No stable’s survived this draft intact, but you’d have to think Brand X is in better shape to continue than any other faction in the CWF. That could be bad news for Ric Flair and Mike Awesome, who’ve been cut off from the other Horsemen… [puts his hand to his ear] Hold on, Curt Hennig is heading back out to the podium.
[CUT] to Hennig, who is heading for the podium with a very downcast demeanor.
Styles: Here comes Hennig, and he looks like his pet dog just died!
Heenan: He’s probably worried about Flip. I’m afraid we may never see the Prince of Pep again!
Styles: Flip carted out of here during our commercial break, after taking that brutal maneuver from Homicide…
Hennig: Well… I guess Roddy Piper just picked up a set of tag titles. [Many of the fans cheer at this, and Hennig stalks away from the microphone in anger]
Styles: Curt Hennig is, in a word, frustrated.
Heenan: This draft’s been a mental and emotional ordeal. It’s no wonder that Hennig seems sorta fried! He probably feels like I did the time I got the Barbarian ready for that English Literature exam.
Styles: English Lit?
Heenan: Can it, stubby, Curt’s back at the microphone.
Hennig: I’m sure Roddy Piper feels pretty good. Him and those bingo-hall rejects, back there pouring cheap beer on each other’s heads. Well we’ll see who’s laughing tonight, after the Main Event. Because, I will win tonight. Either by forfeit… or by finally snapping
Hennig stands there and smirks as the fans boo.
Heenan: He’s confident, Joey, you’ve got to give him that!
Styles: I don’t think someone who once called himself Mr. Perfect would have self-esteem issues…
Hennig: You look at some of the idiots that Piper has drafted. It’s the same collection of guys you’ve seen time and time and time again. Mayhem will be different. Mayhem will innovate! And that will begin with our Cruiserweight division. This Sunday at Redemption, I put that group on the map with the first-ever Six Man Mayhem match to crown a new Cruiserweight Champion! The participants will include Eddie Guerrero [mixed reaction from the fans]… Christopher Daniels [boos]… Chris Candido [boos]… X-Pac [loud cheers]… a surprise opponent of my choosing… and this man!
Hennig steps back, gesturing, as Rey Mysterio Jr.’s music hits! Rey comes bounding out onto the stage.
Styles: Hennig has drafted Rey Mysterio!
Heenan: The jumping bean himself!
Styles: Nice…
Heenan: I don’t know what everybody’s so excited about, this guy’s won one match since he joined the CWF.
Styles: Rey’s been off to a tough start but let’s remember his exploits in ECW and WCW. Now, Curt Hennig seems to be handing him an opportunity to shine…
Hennig shakes hands with Rey, when suddenly Mysterio’s music stops—and is immediately replaced by bagpipes. Rey starts to turn as Roddy Piper strolls out onto the stage.
Styles: Here comes the boss again!
Piper has his own microphone.
Piper: Well hello again Curt! Rey… Sorry you got taken by Captain Ponytail there… If you ever want to go on a REAL wrestling show, you be sure and let me know.
Hennig: This is my time, Piper!
Piper: Hey, I know that, buddy. I just wanted to give you some news. See, I just left the training room! And Chris Jericho has PROMISED he will be ready to face you tonight— [Piper is cut off as the crowd starts to cheer] In the first ever Rowdy Roddy’s Rules Match!
Styles: Hennig looks SHOCKED!
Piper: But… I have good news. See, Curt… I’m here to make you a trade. And, assuming I don’t get sued, it’s an offer you can’t refuse.
Heenan: Oh, this oughta be good…
Piper: I’m going to GIVE you the rights to Davey Boy Smith—Regal’s tag partner. And in return… all I want is an extra draft pick. At the end of the night. That’s all!
Hennig stands there in thought.
Heenan: Sounds like a pretty good deal to me!
Hennig: What’s the catch?
Piper: Catch? There’s no catch! You get Davey Boy. I get an extra draft pick at the end of the night, after you’ve already taken all the guys you want.
Hennig stands there, considering, as Rey simply shrugs and nods.
Hennig: All right, Piper. You’ve got a deal!
Piper responds with a wicked, Cheshire cat-esque smirk.
Piper: Oh, you won’t be disappointed, Curt… I guarantee it!
With that Piper strolls away, leaving Hennig behind with a curious expression on his face.
Styles: Did Hennig just make a deal with the devil?!?
[CUT] to a tight shot of Owen Hart, pacing back and forth with an intense look on his face. After his second turn, he stops short to see Chris Benoit standing in front of him.
Hart: Chris…
Benoit: Owen. You know… since I stepped foot in this company, I’ve had my sights set on Sabu and that World Heavyweight Title. Tonight, you can take that away from me… But I’ve realized something. No matter what, that title stays in the family. The old days. Stampede Wrestling. It stays in the Dungeon. So you go out there, and you break that sonofabitch in half! Wrestle the match of your life, and TAKE that damn title! You understand me?!?
Benoit gives Owen a shove to the chest. Hart takes a step back, then just glares at Benoit before walking away.
Benoit: Bring it home, Owen!
Styles: [voiceover] Our World Heavyweight Title match is next!
COMMERCIALS
One hour time limit; referee: Senior Referee Nick Patrick
[FADE IN] from the commercial break to see Piper at the podium.
Styles: We’re back from the commercial, and the boss is ready with his next pick.
Piper: I’m not gonna stand up here and babble like an idiot like a certain ponytailed competitor… with no further ado, my next draft pick… is Shane! McMahon!
Heenan: What?!?
Styles: Wow! Roddy Piper just selected the crown prince of the McMahon dynasty!
Heenan: You can’t split up a father and son! That… that’s un-American!
Piper: And now I don’t wanna take up any more time, because I wanna sit back and enjoy… as we see a new World Heavyweight Champion crowned.
Piper grins as Owen Hart’s music hits. The self-proclaimed King of Harts walks out onto the stage, nods at Piper then heads for the ring.
Styles: Owen Hart on his way out, and talk about someone with a 1,000-yard stare! He seems to be extremely focused on this, the task at hand…
Hart stomps into the ring as his music fades and “Crazy Train” by Ozzy Osbourne kicks in. A montage of highlights of Sabu’s various feats of daredevilry foreshadow the actual appearance of Sabu, who is led to the ring by Vince McMahon.
Styles: And here comes the champ! You’ve got to wonder just how focused he can be for this match—given the draw between Rock and Benoit last week, and the continued uncertainty about future opponents ever since this draft began.
Heenan: Maybe… but remember, Sabu’s not exactly what you’d call a normal guy. His mind doesn’t work like the rest of us. Most people… they go to fling their body into a flaming barbed wire table, some preservation instinct kicks in. But to Sabu, that’s as natural as eating breakfast!
Styles: Breakfast?
Heenan: Most important meal of the day, Joey…
Styles: Hoo boy. Let’s go to the Fink for introductions before I say something I regret!
[CUT] to a wide shot of the ring.
Finkel: Ladies and gentlemen, this match is for the Charlottesville Wrestling Federation World Heavyweight Championship! This match is one fall with a one hour time limit. Your official is senior referee Nick Patrick. Introducing first, the challenger… from
Hart raises an arm, and the fans give the challenger a big ovation.
Styles: Listen to that! Owen Hart has never received a reaction like that from the CWF fans, and he’s been here since day one!
Heenan: I think he won them over with that performance against Jeff Jarrett on Monday night, Joey.
Finkel: And his opponent… [CUT to a close-up of Sabu, who is pacing back and forth] Accompanied to the ring by Vince McMahon [huge boos from the fans], he represents the Corporation. From
The champion drops down to a knee and points at the sky to boos, although there are a few cheers mixed in. Sabu unclasps the title belt and hands it to Nick Patrick, who thrusts the gold overhead.
Styles: Here we go… Sabu, preparing to make his second defense of the World Heavyweight Title. We’ve already seen one title change tonight, could Owen Hart bring the World Title to Adrenaline? We’ll find out… right after this commercial break!
Heenan: Awwww!
COMMERCIAL
[FADE IN from the quick commercial break to see both men ready for action as Patrick calls for the bell.]
DING DING DING!
Styles: We are back and now officially under way!
Sabu and Hart circle, with Sabu making a lunge for Owen’s legs. Hart dances out of the way as the nimble champ rolls to his feet.
Heenan: A real contrast in styles in this one, Joey. Owen Hart’s technical skill against the kamikaze offense of the champ…
They circle again… Owen goes for a collar and elbow, Sabu evades it and ensnares Hart in a go-behind. Vince McMahon begins to applaud, until Owen reverses the go-behind with no apparent effort. Hart hoists Sabu for a German suplex, but instead swings him over facefirst to the mat in an amateur-style maneuver. Owen reaches up and he starts trying to hook the head, but Sabu’s trying to fight him off.
Styles: Owen Hart already starting to go for the Dragon Sleeper!
Hart’s relentless, while Sabu starts crawling forward. As Owen finally gets Sabu’s head hooked, the champ grabs hold of the bottom rope to force a break. Hart releases and backs to center ring as the Jumbotron flickers to life.
MAYHEM
28TH ROUND
MEAN GENE OKERLUND
Heenan: My old pal Mean Gene heads to Curt Hennig’s show!
Styles: Meanwhile I think Sabu need to re-think. He just tried to out-wrestle Owen Hart, and I don’t think many people would have luck doing that against a graduate of the Dungeon…
As Sabu stands, Owen crouches and beckons for the champ to come at him with a confident smile on his face. They move toward each other when Sabu suddenly explodes forward with a baseball slide dropkick to the knees. Owen goes facefirst to the canvas and Sabu scrambles to his feet and hits a senton across the back before Hart can begin to rise.
Heenan: There ya go, just like you said, Joey…
Sabu’s up, springs to the middle rope and off with a turning legdrop across the back of Hart’s head. Hart kicks his feet weakly in pain as Sabu rolls him over for the pin.
One…
T—Owen kicks out.
Styles: It’s going to take more than that to beat Owen Hart.
Heenan: But it sends a message! Sabu trying to prove he can take control of this match… it’s gonna take a while to beat either of these guys.
Sabu immediately yanks Hart to a seated position, then digs his taped fingers in under the upper mandible and yanks back.
Heenan: That’s just mean!
Hart screams in pain, kicking and thrashing, as Patrick makes a five count. Sabu releases at four and a half, then reapplies the illegal hold, digging two fingers into Hart’s cheek and really yanking back, while starting to pull on the nose.
Styles: The champion blatantly gouging at the face of Owen Hart…
Again Patrick counts and again Sabu releases right before the five count. This time Sabu goes for the eyes, gouging at both of them blatantly. Patrick issues a quick five count. Sabu releases right before five, starts to stand up… then tags Owen with a vicious punch to the side of the head. Hart flops over onto his side, as Patrick steps in, reading the champ the riot act for his tactics. Sabu feints a blow at the referee, who scurries out of the way as Hart rolls onto his belly. Sabu with another baseball slide dropkick square on the ribs, and Owen rolls out to the floor seeking a breather.
Styles: There’s no denying how crazy and sadistic Sabu is, but there’s nothing unbalanced about his attack on Owen Hart. It’s no technical classic, but he’s inflicting a lot of pain and trying to just sap the will and strength of his challenger…
Patrick starts a 20 count as Sabu starts to pace back and forth. Patrick is looking out at the floor as Vince slides in a folding chair on the other side of the ring.
Styles: Now hold on… this is not a no-DQ match.
Owen is struggling to his feet as Patrick’s count continues. Sabu sets the chair up two-thirds of the way across the ring, then runs back into the far ropes as Patrick turns. Sabu bounces off, accelerates, leaps onto the seat of the chair then off! Patrick ducks as Sabu leaps to the top rope, steadies for a second, then jumps off with a big crossbody onto Owen!
Styles: LOOK OUT!
The impact sends both men crashing back into the rail! Hart is left down in a seated position against the railing, while Sabu rolls away, clutching at his ribs.
Styles: Sabu putting life and limb on the line with another death-defying dive!
Heenan: You know, most guys in Sabu’s position… they take LESS chances. They play it safe! But Sabu… it’s like having that belt inspires him to take more and more risks. And in my opinion, that kamikaze attitude makes him that much tougher to beat.
Meanwhile both men are trying to stand… and Owen reaches his feet first. Hart heads for a kneeling Sabu… when suddenly he explodes forward with a spear, DRIVING the back of his head into the floor!
Styles: Good LORD!
Heenan: I think Sabu hurt himself as bad as he hurt Owen Hart!
Indeed Sabu is down, grabbing at the top of his own head following the move. He gets up in a few seconds, though, ducks back into the ring to break Patrick’s count, yanks Hart to his feet by both hands, then fires him headfirst against the rail. He follows with an Irish whip into the opposite side, sending Hart crashing into that barricade. Hart starts to sag, but Sabu gets a running start and clobbers him with a clothesline.
Styles: Sabu continues to control this match, and Owen’s got to turn this around in a hurry if he wants any chance of winning this con—hold on, here he comes!
Sabu makes a beeline for the announce table.
Heenan: I wonder what h—WHOA!
Sabu yanks the Brain out of his seat and takes the chair.
Heenan: You could’ve just asked! Oh right… the no talking thing…
Sabu ducks his head back under the bottom rope to break the count, sets the chair down, backs away, then gets another running start. He leaps onto the seat and flies with a heel kick… AIR SABU! The impact BREAKS THE BARRIER!!
Styles: OH MY GAAAAD!
Both men are left splayed in that seating section, with the piece of broken barricade beneath them. Sabu sits up, arching his back like he’s been stabbed.
Heenan: Remember what I sad about Sabu taking risks?!?
Styles: You’re not kidding! Sabu in some serious pain, let’s get another look at what just happened…
[CUT] to a replay, which shows Sabu smashes into the railing as part of the initial impact, while Hart got sandwiched between the champ and the section of barrier.
Styles: There you see it, looks as if Sabu’s tailbone took the brunt of the impact.
Back to live action, and Nick Patrick now is out to check on both men. As he backs away, Sabu and Hart start struggling to their feet.
Styles: I think Sabu actually may have taken the worst of that impact… if Owen Hart can get to his feet first, he can retake the advantage!
The fans start to clap their hands and stomp their feet encouraging Hart… whose legs suddenly buckle as he slumps back to all fours. Meanwhile Sabu stands and delivers a kick right under Owen’s chin.
Heenan: The kick is up… and it’s good!
Sabu grabs Hart by an arm and a leg and starts dragging him back toward the ring area. Two handfuls of hair get Owen to his feet, and Sabu runs him headfirst into the ring steps. Sabu yanks Hart to his feet and fires him headfirst into the ring steps. Vince McMahon’s right there in front of the action and loving every second of it.
Styles: Vince McMahon cackling like a lunatic at that, and now strutting in front of our announce pos—hey!
Vince: [grabbing Styles’ headset] I hope you people are enjoying this at home. Are ya? Are ya enjoying watching the most dominant, most dangerous man in wrestling do what he does best? Hahahaha! Not even the draft can stop the power of this Corporation…
Styles: Give me that back!
Vince arrogantly flips the headset onto the table as the Jumbotron flickers to life.
Heenan: Who’s it gonna be?
ADRENALINE
28TH ROUND
JERRY LAWLER
Heenan: It’s the King!
Styles: Jerry Lawler will be joining us on Thursday nights. Looks like you may have some competition for that second seat, Brain!
Heenan: Hmmph.
As the pick is announced, Sabu rolls into the ring yet again to break the count while Hart is slumped against the steps. Sabu shoves Hart into the squared circle under the bottom rope. Owen trying to push up off the mat, but his arms give out and he collapses again.
Styles: Owen Hart is hurt. I’m not sure if he can even defend himself right now…
Meanwhile Sabu springs to the top rope, leaps off…
Styles: Somersault legdrop! Right across the back of Hart’s head!
Hart jerks upon impact, Sabu rolls him over and makes the pin.
One…
Two…
Thre—Nooo Owen with a shoulder up!
Heenan: He can’t fight back, but he’s not giving up, either!
Sabu grabs Hart and lays in another brutal choke. Again, Sabu releases just before the count of five. Sabu goes to his wrist tape, unravels some and wraps it around Owen’s throat. Patrick with the count, Sabu releases right before five… then starts strangling Owen a third time. Hart is flailing, trying to escape the chokehold and finally drapes one foot over the bottom rope.
Styles: Come on, ref, get in there!
Sabu releases the choke and starts to go for an eye gouge, but Patrick moves in and bodily pulls away the champion.
Styles: Sabu seems determined to choke the life out of Owen Hart!
The ref starts to warn Sabu, who rears back to punch the official. Patrick cowers, and Sabu seems to smile a bit. Owen is racked by a coughing fit as he tries to regain his wind. Sabu with a second baseball slide dropkick, but Owen rolls out of the way, then pounces on top of a prone Sabu.
Heenan: Whoa!
Owen hooks his head…
Styles: Dragon sleeper! Owen Hart going for the Dragon sleeper!
But a flailing Sabu’s able to get his foot against the ropes. Patrick issuing a count to break, but Hart hooks the hold anyway. He keeps it applied for several seconds, inflicting some extra punishment on the champ.
Styles: Illegal hold, but I guess Owen Hart decided a little turnabout must be fair play!
Hart rolls off to his feet, but he looks gassed. Sabu, meanwhile, already is beginning to stand. He charges Owen with a suicide clothesline. Both men go over the top rope and hit hard on the floor.
Heenan: And MORE bodies flying around!
Patrick heads to the floor, but Sabu already is starting to get to his feet. Hart on his hands and knees, obviously out of sorts… Sabu behind him, gets a running start…
Styles: BULLDOG ON THE CONCRETE!
Owen jerks as if he’s been shot, then lies lifeless on the floor… Patrick’s immediately over there, as Hart weakly rolls onto his back with a glazed expression on his face.
Heenan: That’s an easy way to get a concussion, Joey.
Patrick is trying to check Hart’s awareness, but Sabu shoves past the referee and starts delivering some stomps.
Styles: Now come on! Sabu not even letting the referee check to see if Owen can continue, and I think Nick Patrick should consider stopping this match for the sake of Owen Hart’s health…
Sabu grabs Owen by the hair and heads for the announce table… Headfirst slam! Nick Patrick trying to wave off Sabu, who starts tossing the monitors out of the table.
Heenan: We’re getting a little too close to the action, Joey.
Styles: I agree!
Styles and Heenan scurry away as Sabu rams Owen’s head into the table a second time, then hoists his carcass up onto the table and rolls back into the ring, where Vince feeds him another chair. Owen remains splayed across the table. Sabu sets up the chair, points to the sky and sprints back into the far ropes. He bounces off, jumps onto the chair, pushes off the top rope with one foot and flies with a somersault legdrop…
BUT OWEN HART MOVES!
The table almost seems to explode as Sabu crashes through it with all his weight!
Crowd: HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
Nick Patrick back on the outside, and he’s checking on the champion. Vince McMahon is right there as well. Meanwhile Hart struggles to a seated position.
Styles: I cannot BELIEVE what we just witnessed! Sabu, obliterating our table and himself with an insane legdrop… and he has paid a tremendous physical price for it.
Patrick: Sabu, can you continue? Are you willing to continue?
Heenan: Vince McMahon looks like a man whose meal ticket is getting burnt before his very eyes! I felt the same way once when I watched the Brooklyn Brawler get hit with a chair.
Styles: Really?
Heenan doesn’t answer, as Hart moves in and pulls Sabu free of the rest of the table wreckage… then grabs Sabu by the hair with both hands and chucks him forward.
Styles: Two-handed hair mare onto the floor!
Hart hobbles over to follow, yanks Sabu up and delivers a nasty overhand chop across the chest with one hand, then hits a nasty forearm to the jaw with the other. Irish whip sends Sabu into the steps. He hits hard with his knees and flips over them Foley-style to the concrete on the other side.
Styles: Sabu sent FLYING over the steps!
Heenan: Another hard impact on that lower back, Joey. You know a tactician like Owen Hart’s going to zero in on that…
Sabu slow to his feet yet again, as Owen climbs back inside the ring to break the count. He steps back out and gets a running start down the apron, then leaps… nasty flying forearm drills Sabu, sending both men crashing into the rail as the Jumbotron flickers to life.
MAYHEM
29TH ROUND
HOWARD FINKEL
Styles: The Fink headed to Monday nights!
Heenan: Curt’s cornered the market on bald announcers… well, almost… say, Joey, are those hair plugs?
Styles: Of course not!
Heenan: Riiiiight. *whispers* Your secret’s safe with me, pal.
Styles: Can we focus on the match, please? These two are laying their lives on the line for the title, and you’re talking about hair replacement!
Indeed, both men are down, but Owen Hart starts to stir. The fans roar as the challenger reaches his feet first, standing tall over the champ with a defiant expression on his face.
Heenan: I don’t believe it!
Styles: Owen Hart! How can he even stand after the beating he’s taken tonight?
Sabu starting to stand, but Hart takes him over with a snap mare… and connects on a wicked kick to the back!
Styles: Oh my GAWD!
The impact echoes through the building, and Sabu’s face contorts in pain before he flops over on his side.
Heenan: DID YOU HEAR THAT?!?
Hart grabs Sabu, bringing him up to his feet and delivers a second snap mare…
Heenan: No, not another one!
SMACK!!!
Styles: ANOTHER BRUTAL KICK TO THE BACK!
The fans oooh and ohhh at that one, and Sabu ends up on his belly after the impact, kicking his feet weakly. Hart, meanwhile, is just glaring down at Sabu.
Styles: Owen Hart is… he’s just giving Sabu a BEATING!
Heenan: Look at Vince McMahon, Joey, I think he’s in shock! Hell, I’M in shock! Sabu is getting dominated right now!
A bug-eyed Vince is screaming encouragement to Sabu, as Hart hits a backbreaker out of a side suplex position. Hart keeps hold, stands with Sabu in his grasp and hits a second backbreaker. Hart keeps hold, stands and hits a third, then holds Sabu over the knee! Hart lifts Sabu AGAIN… screams in effort and swings him up onto his shoulder!
Styles: What strength!
Hart charges into the far corner, smashing Sabu’s back against the turnbuckles. Hart still keeps hold, turns out of the corner… running power slam!
Cover!
One…
Two…
Styles: Oh and he kicks out!
Heenan: That was close!
Styles: Shades of Dr. Death’s Oklahoma Stampede with that powerslam, and Sabu is in serious trouble!
Vince McMahon is frantically waving to the back as Hart immediately yanks Sabu up to his feet… textbook gutwrench suplex. Sabu rolls onto his belly, groggy.
Styles: And again Hart goes right to the attack! He’s relentless!
But Sabu hits an open-handed shot to the throat, then rakes the eyes. Owen reels away, blinded, as Sabu springs to the middle rope and flies off with a modified leg lariat. The move leaves Hart down and dazed, but Sabu is clutching at his own tailbone after the impact… Hart seems legitimately rattled, though, and is still on all fours as Sabu approaches.
Heenan: There. Sabu’s back in control n—WHOA!
Suddenly Hart yanks Sabu’s legs out from under him! He quickly stands… steps through…
Styles: SHARPSHOOTER! OWEN HART HOOKS THE SHARPSHOOTER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RING!
Heenan: Sabu can’t take this for long! Hell, no one can! He’s got to get to the ropes!
Sabu starts making progress to the ropes… but Hart walks him back toward center ring. He sits squarely on Sabu’s lower back, wrenching back on his legs with all his might. The fans are standing! They can smell a title change!
But then Vince McMahon gets on the apron.
Styles: Come on! Get him out of here!
Nick Patrick heads over to get rid of Vince, as KEN SHAMROCK slides into the ring. Before Owen can react, Shamrock DESTROYS him with a brutal forearm to the side of the head! Hart immediately releases Sabu and flops to the canvas.
Styles: WHAT THE HELL?!?!
Shamrock immediately rolls to the floor and sprints back up the aisle and out of sight.
Styles: Ken Shamrock just… he just came in and did a damn hatchet job! And Owen Hart is unconscious!!
Heenan: I guess we know now that Shamrock’s allied with the Corporation!
Styles: Oh and look at Vince now.
McMahon is doing his patented goofy strut on the floor, smiling like a proud papa, as Patrick turns back to see Sabu crawling to make the cover.
Heenan: Look at Sabu. He’s as exhausted from the punishment he’s taken as the damage he’s inflicted on himself hitting moves on Owen. But he’s still going. What a champion…
Styles: What a ripoff, you mean!
Sabu covers Hart, hooking a leg.
One…
Two…
Three…
Styles: NO! NO! OWEN KICKED OUT!
And the roof blows off the
Styles: HOW IN THE HELL DID HE KICK OUT?!?
[CUT] to Vince McMahon, bug-eyed and slack-jawed on the floor.
[CUT] to Sabu, looking up at the referee in disbelief.
[CUT] to Hart, laying on his side, drool oozing from one corner of his mouth.
Heenan: Did Owen Hart just kick out of a pin while UNCONSCIOUS?!?
Styles: I think he did…
A sick sneer appears on Sabu’s face as he starts trying to hoist Sabu. Hart’s legs buckle, but Sabu is able to get him up.
Heenan: He should just go for another cover. Owen can’t defend himself!
Sabu blasts Owen across the face with an open-handed slap, shoves him back into the near ropes, then hits a kick to the gut and hooks Hart for a suplex. He hoists the Canadian… who drops down behind the champ. Reverse mule kick! Hart reaches back and hooks Sabu, wicked reverse neckbreaker! Owen is left sitting up, still blinking in an obviously addled state… then slumps back across Sabu.
One…
Two…
Sabu easily kicks out. But both men stay down!
The fans start to clap their hands and stomp their feet.
Styles: Listen to this crowd! They’re getting behind Owen Hart, but they’ve got to appreciate the showing by both men! Hart and Sabu are pulling out all the stops in a classic World Heavyweight Title match! The only question is… will that belt be defended on Monday nights or Thursday nights? The future of this belt is hanging in the balance, and may hinge on which man gets to his feet first!
Sabu gets up first and connects on a running kick to the head. A kneeling Owen tilts back, and Sabu delivers a right to the face. And a second. And a third!
Heenan: Look at Sabu, Joey. He just keeps going! This man, he puts himself through hell night in and night out, and he’s always able to bounce back. That’s why he’s a champion!
When suddenly Hart shakes his head like a dog in water and surges off the mat with a wicked forearm uppercut!
Styles: But Owen Hart refusing to lay down either!
A snarling Owen with a second big forearm. And a headbutt! He pulls Sabu into a suplex position, hoists him, then walks forward to drop him gutfirst across the top rope. Hart hooks Sabu by the head… DDT! Sabu’s toes are still hooked on the top rope after the impact, which leaves the crowd oohing and ahhing.
Styles: WHAT A DDT!
Styles: Sabu’s entire body weight driven into the mat with his head taking all the impact!
Heenan: I’ve never seen a DDT like that!
Hart flops Sabu over onto his back and covers.
One!
Two!
Thre—SABU WITH A SHOULDER UP!
Styles: SABU ESCAPES!
Hart rolls off, and he can’t believe how close he came. But he recovers in time to drag Sabu away from the ropes and make another cover.
One…
Two…
Thre—and again Sabu with a shoulder up as the Jumbotron flickers to life.
ADRENALINE
29TH ROUND
TONY SCHIAVONE
Styles: Tony Schiavone drafted, but forgive me for not saying much about it… because right now Owen Hart has Sabu in serious trouble! These fans are standing, Brain! They can smell what I smell. It’s in the air… that Owen Hart has a VERY good chance of walking out of here as the new world champion!
Heenan: He’s taken the best Sabu can throw at him and come back. Can he finish the job though?
Hart pounds the mat in frustration… before reaching forward to hook Sabu in the Dragon sleeper!
Styles: HE’S GOT HIM! DRAGON SLEEPER!
Heenan: This is the same move that broke Jeff Jarrett’s neck!
Sabu lunging desperately for the ropes, but they’re nowhere in sight. Sabu’s hand flailing like a drowning man as Hart wrenches back on Sabu’s head with all his might! Meanwhile Vince McMahon is frantic!
Heenan: How much longer can Sabu last?!?
Styles: Every fan in this building is standing! Can you smell it, Brain? Can you smell a new champion about to be crowned?!?
Hart jams a knee into Sabu’s back, trying to inflict extra pain, as Sabu’s struggles diminish.
Styles: Is he out?
Patrick checks Sabu. Raises the champ’s hand… and it drops.
Twice!
A third time…
No! Sabu’s free hand stays up!
Heenan: I knew it! I knew Sabu had more fight in him than this!
And then starts jabbing Hart in the side of the head with his free hand!
Styles: Look at those stiff punches!
Finally Hart lets go. Sabu flops facefirst to the canvas, as a kneeling Hart struggles to regain his bearings. Sabu starts to stand, and Hart lunges forward, catching him in a go-behind.
Styles: Owen Hart going right back to the attack, fighting through the pain!
Hart chain wrestles into a full nelson… but before he can do anything Sabu hits a reverse mule kick of his own. Sabu springs to the middle rope, turns in midair, hooks a dazed Hart and nails a crisp tornado DDT!
Heenan: WHOA!
Sabu immediately starts to rise. Leaping legdrop across the face… and another senton!
Styles: Where in the world is Sabu getting his energy?!
Heenan: He’s Sabu-ing up!
Sabu stands and beckons for a chair. Vince McMahon feeds him. Nick Patrick protests, as Sabu sets up the chair, steps to the seat, then the top rope…
Styles: Triple jump moonsault!
One…
Two…
Three!
Vince raises his arms in triumph as Nick Patrick calls for the bell.
Styles: And that’s it! One flurry from Sabu… and the match is over.
Heenan: That’s making a statement right there, Joey. Anyone who thinks it’s going to be easy to get that title off Sabu just got a wake-up call.
Sabu hops to his feet as Nick Patrick raises his arm in triumph, but almost immediately the champ crumples back to one knee. Vince McMahon into the ring to check on him, and the champion rolls out to the floor favoring his neck.
Styles: Sabu retains his title but pays the price…
Heenan: I guarantee you Curt Hennig is thrilled he just won. Because this just guaranteed that Hennig and Mayhem—not us—will have the rights to the world heavyweight championship.
Styles: We’ll be back after these messages…
WIN: Sabu by pin in 17:53 (retains title)
COMMERCIALS
[FADE IN] from the commercial break to see a smiling Curt Hennig, joined by Vince McMahon and Sabu in the war room.
Hennig: Cameraman, zoom in on that title belt. Hold it up, Sabu. Go on…
Sabu glares at the commissioner briefly before raising the title.
Hennig: Take a good look at that belt, Piper. Soak it in. Savor it. Because this is the closest you, or anyone on YOUR show, will ever come to this belt—the biggest prize in the CWF today. Haha! Vince, I gotta hand it to you, you made a promise and you delivered.
McMahon: That’s right, Curt. You see, I promised you that if you drafted me to oversee my Corporate interests here on Mayhem, I would guarantee that Sabu walked out of this town with that title. And now… perhaps we can discuss who Sabu will be facing at Redemption on Sunday.
Hennig: That’s right. Because, while Piper’s second-rate show has to wait a week to debut, Mayhem has exclusive rights to Redemption, available ONLY on pay-per-view this Sunday from
McMahon: Um… that’s not exactly what I meant.
Before Vince can elaborate, Kurt Angle comes barreling into the room.
Angle: Mister Hennig! This is awful…
Angle shoulders past McMahon and starts in on the Mayhem commissioner.
Angle: First… Haku and I lose our titles to those… those STREET PUNKS on Piper’s roster. Then Flip gets carted out of this place in an ambulance, and who knows WHEN he’ll be back. But now… Roddy Piper’s gone and drafted Tony Schiavone, the official announcer for Team Angle. You gotta make another trade, sir. Just trade one of those Corporation guys, Vince won’t mind…
McMahon: I’m standing right here!
Angle: Huh? Oh, right. Whatever…
McMahon: Whate—Listen here you ingrate, I was selling out
Angle: Oh REALLY. Well maybe I’ll just use that big pep talk ya gave, BEAT Dean Malenko on Sunday, take my title shot and beat Sabu for that belt. Hmmm? How’d that be?
Vince McMahon sputters and fumes in anger when Dean Malenko walks into the room.
Hennig: Oh for cryin out loud!
Malenko: Couldn’t help but overhear what you had to say, Angle. The last thing you want to do is head into our match overconfident. Because winning a gold medal, that’s one thing. But beating the Man of 1,000 Holds? That’s something else.
Angle: Oh, we’ll just see about that, half-pint.
Angle and Malenko go nose to nose, as Hennig tries to separate them.
Voice off-screen: Dudes!
Everyone in the room looks up as Rob Van Dam strolls in. Sabu immediately shoots a glare at his former partner.
RVD: There’s a lotta anger in this room right now… and why? Kurt Angle… and Dean Malenko… stressin’ over who’s gonna win the Above and Beyond tournament? C’mon guys… everyone knows I’M gonna win that title shot.
Angle: Think again, Cheech! Curt Hennig already announced that it was me and Dean in the finals.
Hennig clears his throat loudly.
Hennig: That WAS true, before the trade I made with Piper. But now I have RVD back on the roster, and technically he was never eliminated from the tournament. So now… according to the brackets… we’re going to have Kurt Angle wrestle Dean Malenko. And the WINNER will wrestle Rob Van Dam.
The crowd roars at the news.
Angle: WHAT?!? You can’t do that! You can’t do that, that’s unfair!
Malenko: He gets to sit back while we kill each other?
Hennig: No, Van Dam will wrestle an opponent of my choosing earlier in the night, to make sure no one has an advantage.
RVD: [shrugs] Hey, that’s cool with me. Because no matter who it is, everybody knows they can’t hold a candle to Mr. Monday Night. And that’s me, Rob… Van…
Angle: GAH!
Angle storms out of the room, with Malenko to follow. Van Dam shrugs again and starts to leave.
Hennig: Um, Rob? Did you need something or were you just eavesdropping like Malenko?
RVD: Oh yeah! [reaches into his pocket] Dude, do you validate?
Hennig gives Van Dam a withering stare for a few seconds, then takes the parking slip and scribbles something on it.
RVD: Thanks. And Sabu? Keep that belt nice and shiny for me, bro, because I’m coming for it.
Sabu starts to go after Vince, but McMahon holds back the champion.
Hennig: Now if you gentlemen will excuse me I’ve got a draft to conduct and a match to prepare for.
McMahon: But about Sabu’s title match…
Hennig: I said, go!
McMahon gives Sabu a long look and then leads Sabu out of the room.
Hennig: Ladies and gentlemen, my next pick in this draft… is Chris Candido’s manager, Tammy Sytch.
Hennig crosses his arms and smirks as the scene [FADES OUT].
COMMERCIALS
[FADE IN] from the commercial break to see Roddy Piper at the podium.
Styles: We’re back and without any further ado, let’s go to our boss the Hot Rod for his next pick.
Piper: Ya know, I sit back and I look at this roster and I gotta say it’s just fabulous. We’ve got the Rock… we’ve got Sting… we’ve got Ric Flair… we’ve got Mick Foley, and he’s even crazier than I am! And if anybody gets out of line, we’ve got a 7-foot monster named Kane who they’re gonna get acquainted with. But… [sighs] Gosh, it… It feels like Adrenaline needs something! It needs some other special element. And then I realized what we need on Thursday nights. We need what EVERYONE needs. A little Head. [The fans start to cheer] Ladies and gentlemen, my next pick…
Styles: Roddy Piper just took the deranged Al Snow!
Snow’s Prodigy theme music kicks up, and he comes out on the stage wielding Head. Snow shakes his decapitated sidekick at the crowd, his own long hair flying to and fro in the air.
Heenan: Is he serious? I have to see this moron every week?
Styles: Didn’t have anybody with their own Head on Prime Time Wrestling, did they, Brain?
Heenan: I don’t think you want me to answer that, Joey.
Styles: Let’s head backstage!
Piper shakes the hand of a bewildered-looking Snow.
[CUT] to a close-up of the DX logo on a black shirt.
[ZOOM OUT] to reveal Triple H, Billy Gunn, Roaddog and X-Pac standing around the shirt.
HHH: D-Generation X. We had a good run, boys. Reached the top of this business. Won a lot of matches…
The others murmur in agreement.
X-Pac: Had a lot of parties…
The murmurs grow to “Yeahs.”
Roaddog: Drank a lot of beer…
The volume of the “Yeahs” intensifies.
Gunn: Chased a lotta skirts!
The four men start to cheer.
HHH: Good times. But everything… comes to an end… Because at the end of this night, we go our separate ways. I stay here, on Adrenaline… and the rest of you head to Mayhem.
Roaddog: And it’s gonna BE Mayhem over there once we’re through with ’em!
X-Pac: Well hey, I don’t wanna be some big sap, or anything like that. But the reality is, Hunter, we’re gonna miss you, man…
Gunn and Roaddog nod in agreement.
Gunn: And we’re gonna carry on the name. DX is still gonna be a force, and we’ll be takin’ over Monday nights—just like we did back in the day!
HHH just smiles.
HHH: In that case, I guess I’ve got two words for ya… Good luck.
HHH shares a handshake and a hug with each man, then leaves the room as X-Pac, Roaddog and Billy Gunn stand there looking all mournful.
Until Triple H pops his head back into the shot.
HHH: Wait, what the hell am I doing? Let’s go to the strip club!
Everyone else: YEAH!
With that, DX leaves as a group… for the final time.
[CUT] back to Joey Styles and Bobby Heenan at ringside.
Styles: DX, saying farewell to Triple H as only they can!
Heenan: You think they’ll be using their catch phrase at the club?
Styles pauses and does a double take, looking directly at the camera.
Styles: I’m not gonna go there… Well with only two rounds remaining, the rosters for Mayhem and Adrenaline are finally taking shape. Let’s take a look at where the draft stands now.
ROUND 1
Mayhem: Sabu
Adrenaline: The Rock
ROUND 2
Mayhem: Test & Hakushi (picked as set as World Tag Champs)
Adrenaline: Chris Benoit (traded)
ROUND 3
Mayhem: forfeited as part of tag team pick
Adrenaline: Kane
ROUND 4
Mayhem: Chris Jericho (traded)
Adrenaline: Ric Flair
ROUND 5
Mayhem: Kurt Angle & Haku (picked as set as United States Tag Champs)
Adrenaline: Rob Van Dam (traded)
ROUND 6
Mayhem: forfeited as part of tag team kick
Adrenaline: Jerry Lynn
ROUND 7
Mayhem: Jim Ross
Adrenaline: Sting
ROUND 8
Mayhem: D’Lo Brown
Adrenaline: Michael Modest
ROUND 9
Mayhem: Dean Malenko
Adrenaline: Mankind
ROUND 10
Mayhem: Raven (traded)
Adrenaline: Saturn
ROUND 11
Mayhem: Joey Styles (traded)
Adrenaline: Triple H
ROUND 12
Mayhem: Brian Clarke
Adrenaline: Bryan Adams (traded)
ROUND 13
Mayhem:
Adrenaline: New Jack
ROUND 14
Mayhem: Flip
Adrenaline: Owen Hart
ROUND 15
Mayhem: Big Show
Adrenaline: Mike Awesome
ROUND 16
Mayhem: Eddie Guerrero
Adrenaline: Shawn Michaels
ROUND 17
Mayhem: Christopher Daniels
Adrenaline: Sandman
ROUND 18
Mayhem: Goldust
Adrenaline: Tommy Dreamer
ROUND 19
Mayhem: Ken Shamrock
Adrenaline: Matt Hardy
ROUND 20
Mayhem: Chris Candido
Adrenaline: Jeff Hardy
ROUND 21
Mayhem: Paul Heyman
Adrenaline: Bobby Heenan
ROUND 22
Mayhem: Vince McMahon
Adrenaline: Sid
ROUND 23
Mayhem: Steven Regal
Adrenaline: Davey Boy Smith (traded to Mayhem for extra draft pick)
ROUND 24
Mayhem: Billy Gunn
Adrenaline: Kanyon
ROUND 25
Mayhem: Roaddog
Adrenaline: Homicide
ROUND 26
Mayhem: X-Pac
Adrenaline: Arn Anderson
ROUND 27
Mayhem: Rey Mysterio
Adrenaline: Shane McMahon
ROUND 28
Mayhem: Mean Gene
Adrenaline: Jerry Lawler
ROUND 29
Mayhem: Howard Finkel
Adrenaline: Tony Schiavone
ROUND 30
Mayhem: Tammy Sytch
Adrenaline: Al Snow
Styles: So there you have it! A little different strategy tonight: Monday night, it was all about getting the building blocks—Mayhem went for champions, trying to collect as many CWF titles as possible. But Adrenaline targeted established stars, collecting a few belts along the way… and adding those United States Tag Titles with the win by New Jack and Homicide this evening. Then tonight, it was about filling in the gaps. Commentators, tag teams and guys who you think will add to the roster!
Heenan: That’s right, and Piper’s seemed to focus a little more on the personalities than the wrestlers. Then again, when you’ve already got the Rock AND Ric Flair, who else do you need? You remember Rocky, Joey, he’s your favorite.
Styles: Right… Well as we—[puts his hand to his ear] Hold on a second, we’re going to go backstage right now where Mean Gene is standing by with his new boss, Curt Hennig.
[CUT] to Mean Gene with Hennig, who is now dressed to wrestle. Vince McMahon and Sabu are standing in the background.
Gene: All right, we are getting ready for tonight’s main event—the first-ever Rowdy Roddy’s Rules Match—and Mr. Hennig, I understand you have an announcemtnt to make.
Hennig: This Sunday, my Mayhem show will make its debut—not on television, but on pay-per-view. It’s the grand stage in this industry. And on that event, we will have Rob Van Dam face Dean Malenko or Kurt Angle in the finals of the Above and Beyond tournament. We will have a three-way dance for the World Tag Titles, with Test and Hakushi defending against Hostile Takeover and D’Lo Brown and his choice of partner. I also have signed a Gauntlet Match—the first in CWF history—to crown the new Intercontinental Champion. And of course, the first-ever Six Man Mayhem match to determine the new holder of the vacant Cruiserweight Championship. But all that pales in comparison to our main event, which will see Sabu defend his World Heavyweight Championship—an exclusive property of Mayhem.
Vince is preening in the background now, as Sabu just stands there with a sour look on his face.
Hennig: You see, Monday night, Roddy Piper handed Owen Hart a golden opportunity. And predictably, he failed. Once again, though, I’m gonna show that kilt-wearing moron how it REALLY should be done. I’m not gonna just give my draft pick a title match. I’m giving my draft pick a title match on pay-per-view! And so… at Redemption… it will be Sabu, defending… against Lash. LeRoux.
Styles: WHAT?!?
Vince McMahon starts to laugh in the background and Sabu even allows himself a smile.
Gene: Lash LeRoux? But don’t you—
Hennig: [holds a hand up] Sorry, Gene, I don’t have time to take questions. It’s time to go to the ring to give Chris Jericho the beating of a lifetime.
Hennig does a gum swat and leaves as the image [ZOOMS IN] on Vince, giving Sabu some congratulatory pats on the back and the scene [FADES OUT]
COMMERCIALS
THE MAIN EVENT
[FADE IN] from the commercial break to hear “Exodus” playing. Curt Hennig strolls out and is greeted by nearly universal boos.]
Styles: Here comes Curt Hennig—the man who’s all about being objective. The man who’s all about fairness. The man who’s full of crap if you ask me! Lash LeRoux against Sabu? You’ve gotta be kidding me!
Heenan: What? That’s a great opportunity for Lash, and I’m excited to see what the kid can do.
Styles: Can you retract your lips from the ass of Curt Hennig for just a few seconds? I thought Hennig was all about law and order. I saw him stare down Vince McMahon Monday night. And now what? He books a RIDICULOUS world title match—as a pay-per-view main event!—to apparently curry favor with the Corporation. I thought Vince doesn’t pay Hennig’s salary anymore but apparently I was wrong!
Heenan: You better watch what you say…
Styles: I don’t have to, I don’t work for the sonofabitch!
While Styles verbally flogs Hennig, the Mayhem Commissioner is all smiles as he strolls to the ring.
Styles: No ringside announcer at this time—Hennig demanded Howard Finkel head to the back since he now is property of Mayhem, and Commissioner Piper’s yet to appoint a new one.
Hennig gets in the ring, signature towel in hand, and bounces a bit from foot to foot…
As the house lights go down.
5… 4… 3… 2… 1… BOOM!
[CUT] to Hennig, who starts chuckling as he sees a grimacing
Styles: Look at the courage, the guts displayed by Chris Jericho! Walking to the ring on one good leg, just for the chance to get his hands on Curt Hennig…
Heenan: But Hennig isn’t some flabby out-of-shape executive. He’s a former world champion! And
Styles: Referee Mike Sparks assigned, and we appear ready to go!
DING DING DING!
Voice: Hold on a second! Stop the match!
Piper: You better separate those two, Mr. Referee! I think you folks forgot that this isn’t just another match. This is a Rowdy Roddy’s Rules Match! An’ anyone who knows the ole Hot Rod knows that the only thing to expect… is the unexpected. That means what I say go… WHEN I say it! So ring that bell and start the match. Oh, and by the way… low blows are legal.
DING DING DING!
As the bell rings,
Piper: Closed fists are now legal!
Styles: Well, there’s another rule change for Rowdy Roddy in this match.
Jericho looks up, grins and grabs a handful of Hennig’s hair, yanking his head back before firing away with punches to the head—then slams him facefirst to the canvas. Hennig starts crawling desperately for the ropes, as
Piper: There are NO rope breaks!
Heenan: WHAT?!?
Hennig looks up, slack-jawed and slightly flabbergasted, as a grinning
Styles: Ankle lock! Curt Hennig may not make it to Sunday’s pay-per-view if
Hennig rolls onto his back and is able to kick
Piper: There are no countouts in this match!
Hennig looks up in shock as
Styles: Oh!
Heenan: What a brilliant counter by Curt Hennig! I think you believe he’s some weak power figure who can’t wrestle. You forget he’s a former world champion, Joey!
Styles: Oh so then he’s just ACTING like some weak power figure… contracting Kurt Angle to re-injure that ankle before the match.
Piper: With my next draft pick, I select Val Venis from the Smoky Mountain Wrestling roster!
Styles: Roddy Piper makes his next-to-last draft pick and meanwhile Curt Hennig is in full control of this match.
Hennig over to the steps now, shoving the top step off. Then he turns back to
Heenan: You gotta say this about
Hennig rakes the eyes, follows with a slam on the concrete! Now Hennig has
Styles: Oh, now hold on… Hennig positioning
Hennig goes back to the ankle, pins it with one foot and raises the top step…
Piper: Use of the steps in this match is illegal!
Heenan: Oh, NOW he starts making things illegal!
Hennig glares up at Piper and tosses the top step to the side, as
Styles: Chris Jericho will not be denied tonight!
Heenan: More brilliant strategy by Curt Hennig. He knew
Stomp to the lower back… and another to the bum ankle. Second, leaping stomp to the ankle! Hennig pulls
Styles: Neck snap! Hennig hits his patented neck snap…
The Mayhem Commissioner gets up, flicking some non-existent sweat on
Heenan: That dropkick was… well… perfect?
Styles: Now THERE’s a subtle reference…
Meanwhile
Styles: Chris Jericho unloading with some desperation strikes!
Another chop… another roundhouse! Hennig staggered as
Styles: Hennig again goes to the ankle! He might be unfair and opportunistic, but he certainly knows how to target a weakness…
Now Hennig signaling for the finish! Yanks
Piper: *Ahem* Curt, I hate to break this to ya. But the