Posted by Webmaster

Lethal Injection VIII

1 Aug 2012

Madison Square Garden, New York City, New York (seats 20,000)



It's Wednesday.  But where is The Row?  On television?  No Death Row fucked up that deal.  Death Row fucks up everything.  S'pose you're just gonna have to watch those starving models on America's Next Top Model. . .  Or if you don't swing that way, you could always watch So You Think You Can Dance. . .   What about the website?  What about the Death Row website?

Yea... there's something there.  Click the thing, yeah.  Nice.

The video starts up with Tim Ross, sitting in a room behind a desk of rich mahogny. He sits staring at the screen, his face an unhappy one.

Tim Ross: Well, Da Boss done fucked up.  Last thing us niggas need is less money.  And well, that's what we got now, less money.  Sorry fellas, but there won't be any mansions or flashy cars in your future.  If you want that, you should probably go elsewhere.  Just remember though, these fellas just may sign you to spite me.  And what then?  

Tim Ross scoffs.

Tim Ross:  Hearsay is hearsay nigga.  Rememba that.  FCC had a field day with us.  That's on da real.  Death Row just may be too wild for TV. . . The truth is Tim Ross has been talking around, and nothing is other yet.  Not by a long shot my nigga.  So sit back, and watch the latest episode of Lethal Injection.

This is Death Row baby, and now that you're tuned in...

You're fucked.






The Lethal Injection logo burst through the screen and fades out as we get an outside shot of mother fucking Madison Square Garden.  The streets outsight are wet, and people can be seen moving around the outside of the arena, some moving with haste, others gathering in small groups to stand around and otherwise waste time.  Yellow taxi cabs can be seen darting through the streets, busy with noisy traffic.  Tail lights gleam bright and red.  Clouds of steam rise up from the grates in the sidewalks, and the heat wavers in the Summer night.  The shot fades to inside the building, where we get a panoramic view of what seems to be an almost sold out show.

Yea, Death Row almost sells out the Garden. Fuck you Fisher Price feds.

As the camera pans around, we catch various signs in the crowd.

​I want a mustache ride!

Bring Hydrecks Back!

Dark is my baby daddy.

Yoshii > Skidd Row

Tarrasque, Here's a Bone!

We finally land on the two most important men of the night, the commentators.

​Wolf:​ Welcome ladies and gentlemen to another exciting edition of Lethal Injection  I'm Waylon Wolf, and along side me like every week is the one and only Tommy Ace!

Ace: That's right folks, I'm Tommy Ace and damn it feels good to be a gangster!

​Wolf: The only thing gangster about you Tommy, is well, nothing.

Ace: I've played dominos and drank Kool-aid with Tim Ross a time or two.

Wolf: That makes you gangster?

Ace: More gangster than you Waylon.  You have never seen a Tupac video.  You don't even smoke cigarettes.

Wolf:  We may not have a television deal at the moment, but it appears Tim Ross has signed his own camera men for tonight.

Suddenly, the camera, as if to illustrate the amateur status of the TV crew starts moving around and eventually settles on the ground, with a tight shot of the camera operators shoes.

Ace:  Hey buddy!  Up here!  Where did Tim Ross get these people?  Off the street?  This guy smells like piss and cheap liquor!

The camera cuts to a two shot of Waylon and Ace, sitting at the commentator's table.

​Wolf: Good. Either way, what a big night we have ahead of us! We have tag team action filling the show, with Dark and cVc working together for their first time in a match with Fracture.  Doozer is scheduled to appear, and in our main even Skidd Row defends his championship against FJ Tombs!

Ace: Yea, Tombs weaseled his way into Chance Von Crank's title match!

Wolf: Tim Ross has promised to address this here tonight, so without further ado... let's kick this shindig off!

​Ace: Shindig? Wow Waylon, just wow.

Wolf:  What am I supposed to say?

Ace:  I dunno, how bout 'Let's start this bitch?!'

Wolf:  I'm not gonna say that. . . 

Ace:  Fine, then I will.  LET'S START THIS BITCH!

The camera cuts to Waylon Wolf, who shakes his head in complete misery.

Cash Money vs. H-Town Hustlas

Wolf:  Listen to those fans—welcome everyone, to yet another exciting night of Death Row Wrestling, coming to you live via Best Studios.  That’s right fans, we’ve got an action packed show for you tonight, as always.  And we’re here coming to you live from the one and only Madison Square Garden.

Ace:  Lots of history here Wolf.  Some of the biggest matches in history have gone down here in The Garden.  If only the Knicks were good, this place would be even more revered!

Wolf:  Now now, Ace. . .

Ace:  Linsanity has left the building!

Wolf:  But not The Row!  We aren’t going anywhere folks, no matter how much the other guys want us to up and evaporate, the scumbag elite are here, and here to say.  We don’t care what anyone has to say about it.

Ace:  For once I agree with you, Wolf.

Wolf:  If I spoke only to appease you Ace, this show would already be off the air. . .  Well up next we’ve got another debut, from the tag team Cash Money.

Ace:  Redundant much, Wolf?  Cash Money?

Wolf:  What?  That’s their name. . . Shane “Cash” Jackson and Jason Cruz make up Cash Money, and apparently these two started out hating one another Ace, but found a lifelong companionship after Shane Jackson saved Jason Cruz from a burning house.

Ace:  Well, I don’t know if these two are lovers, but calling them lifelong companions certainly has that connotation.  Shane should have got out while he still could, Jason probably started that fire and he looks like a clinger.

“It Gets Me Through,” begins to play, and those native New Yorkers who are familiar with Ozzy Osbourne and fans of his work start to cheer.  The signs start popping up amongst the sea of humans, the camera cutting to a few choice ones.  The lights in the arena dim, and as darkness falls pyrotechnics start blasting across the ramp, lighting the faces of those in the crowd in shades of red.

Wolf:  Quite the blast of pyrotechnics here ladies and gentlemen, cover thy ears!

Ace:  Nothing like a Cash Money entrance to blast out your ears.   You can still watch the Row, we’ve got closed captioning for the hearing impaired!

As the lyrics start up Shane Jackson and Jason Cruz come out from behind the curtain, both dressed in fine suits.

Wolf:  Are these guys here to wrestle or to propagate some business?

Ace:  They must be here to wrestle, look: they’re stripping down!

The two start to get out of their suits, a lengthy progress.  At one point Jason sits on the edge of the ramp and takes off his shoes, so that he may put on his wrestling boots.

Wolf:  A la Mr. Rogers.  You think they’re gonna show us how to tie our shoes?

Ace:  Won’t you be my neighbor?  This is ridiculous Wolf, these guys don’t ever come out to a match prepared. . . Hey Cash Money, we’ve got a locker room, try using it!

Stripped out of their suits the two make their way down to the ring, their clothes folded nice and proper.  Picking them up they drape them over their off arms and make their way down to the ring.  As they pass down the ramp the fans reach out to touch them, Shane and Jason using their free hands to slap a couple of hands as they pass.  When they reach the steel steps they climb up cautiously, but not before handing off their suits to a ring hand and threatening death if their suits are returned soiled.

Wolf:  Where do you think they got those suits anyway?

Ace:  Men’s Warehouse: ‘I’ll guarantee you’ll love it.”  I can spot a cheapo suit from anywhere.

Wolf:  I doubt that Wolf.  They look pretty nice to me.

Ace:  Death Row could use some sponsorships… imagine a Men’s Warehouse ring!

Wolf:  No thanks!

They climb into the ring through the top and middle ropes, Shane Jackson followed by Jason Cruz.  Inside the ring Jason and Shane take to opposite turnbuckles, and climb their respective corners.  Raising their hands over their heads the crowd lets out a mild pop—a particular Cash Mark brandishing his CASH MONEY sign and convulsing about as if he were in the midst of a seizure.  Ozzy Osbourne begins to die down, his voice fading and becoming consumed by the noises of the crowd.

Wolf:  These two have a tall order in the H-Town Hustlas.

Ace:  Maybe not, Wolf.  It seems as of late the Hustlas are little too interested in their ‘extra curricular’ activities to give The Row the attention it deserves.

Wolf:  They’ve been on a losing streak as of late, that’s for sure Ace, but let’s see if these two can turn it around and redeem themselves tonight against Cash Money.

Ace:  Relieve themselves?  They’re gonna piss all over the ring?

Wolf:  Redeem!  Redeem!  I said redeem and you know it.

2 Of Amerika’s Most Wanted starts up and the crowd comes alive with cheers.

Wolf:  Well here they come Ace, Rodd Macc and Gutta Boy, The H-Town Hustlas.

Ace:  I hope they have some goodies for us!

Soon the H-Town Hustlas appear from behind the curtain, Rodd Mac carrying a large sack over his shoulder.  He taunts the crowd and then pulls the string on the bag, opening it.  He reaches in and pulls out some stolen electronics, mostly boom boxes from the early nineties, and begins tossing them into the crowd.

Wolf:  Rodd Mac looking like Santa Clause with that huge bag, Ace.

Ace:  Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas everybody, and Happy New Year!  Christmas in August!  That’s what I’m talking about!

Wolf:  I feel like I’ve seen something like this before. . .

Ace:  That’s because you have, Wolf.

The crowd begins to cheer, the fans in the first row reaching out for some stolen merchandise.  Whenever anything enters the crowd the fans fight for it like a bunch of old maids trying to catch the bouquet after a wedding.

Ace:  Twas a night of constipation, and all through your ass,
          Not a substance was squirming, not even poo gas;

Wolf:  Hey, that’s pretty good Ace, if not completely juvenile.

When the bag is empty, The H-Town Hustlas make their way down to the ring, walking down the center of the ramp.  Rodd Macc sees the camera and throws some Houston gang signs in its direction before turning his attention to the ring.  Rodd Macc climbs up the steel steps, followed by Gutta Boy.  They both climb into the ring and take a neutral corner.

Wolf:  Well, here are the Hustlas, arriving after a little distribution of ahem, goods.  Hustlas, Cash Money, coming next.

Ace:  That’s right, tag team action coming up at yah right here between these new comers, who it seems are very much into money, and the hustlas from H-Town.  That’s Houston, everybody.

Wolf:  They’re a long way from Houston. 

The Hustlas settle in the ring, looking across at their opponents Cash Money, who seem more than ready to start their Death Row career.  Gutta Boy can be seen slinging insults in their direction.

Wolf:  Some choice words here from Gutta Boy.  Ace, who do yah like in this one?

Ace:  Cum Cancer!  Cum Comfort!  Cum, Davidson and Reeves!
          On Witness, on Lewis, on Legend and Jennings!”
          Cum upon my face, upon my very stern chin!
          So that I may swallow up all with a healthy gr---

The camera cuts quickly to a two shot of Waylon and Tommy Ace.  Waylon smacks Tommy and he quickly shuts up.

Ace:  What did you have to do that for?

Wolf:  You’re a real idiot, you know that?

The camera cuts to the ring announcer, standing upright in a fancy suit.  He has a look on his face that makes him look constipated.  He looks around at the crowd before bringing the microphone to his lips. 

Announcer:  The following match is scheduled for one fall and has a twenty minute time limit. . .  Introducing first, from Ft. Wayne, Indiana, weighing in at combined weight of five hundred and thirty pounds, they are Shane Jackson and Jason Cruz. . . Cassshhh Monnneeeyyy!

Shane Jackson and Jason Cruz raise their arms, and they receive a mild pop.  A CASH MONEY chant starts up, and soon a H-Town Hustlas chant starts up in contention.


Wolf:  Well we’ve got a divided crowd here tonight, fans of both Cash Money and The H-Town Hustlas voicing their allegiance.

Ace:  Cash Money sure seemed to have developed a quick following.  You’ve got to prove yourself in The Row, Wolf.  And New York is no stranger to excellence, what with The New York Yankees.  These folks aren’t just gonna cheer anyone Wolf!

Announcer:  And their opponents, from Houston, Texas, weighing in at a combined weight of four hundred and ninety-four pounds, they are Rodd Macc and Gutta Boy, The H-Town Hustlasssss!

The crowd pops as Gutta Boy and Rodd Macc simultaneously raise their arms.  They let out a few choice words directed toward Cash Money.  Rodd Macc and Gutta Boy then turn to one another to discuss who will start the mach, as Cash Money does the same.  Gutta Boy steps through the ropes to the H-Town’s neutral corner, as Jason Cruz steps through the ropes in the opposite corner.

Wolf:  Tonight’s episode of Lethal Injection is brought to you by The Muzzle, by Hasbro.

Ace:  Child runs off at the mouth?  Got a son who wants to be just like Chance Von Crank (God help you)?  Well then Hasbro has got what you need.  Made of strong leather, and fashioned with metal straps, The Muzzle fits all sizes, and prevents yelling, excess noise and biting.  Ages 2-10.

Wolf:  Doubles as a dog muzzle as well.

The bell rings.

Wolf:  Well here we go: the first match of the night.

Ace:  You can feel the anticipation in the air… The fans cheering, the smell of salty popcorn and stale beer in the air. . . it’s enough to give you an erection Wolf.  But you wouldn’t have any problems with that.

Wolf:  Hey I can get it up!

Ace:  Yeah. . . with Viagra, you old bastard. . .

Rodd Mac and Shane Jackson lock up in the center of the ring, but quickly Rodd Mac raises a knee and hits Shane in the abdomen, the blow bending him at the waist.  Rodd Mac knees him once more and then tosses Shane into the ropes.

Wolf:  Shane into the ropes. . . he returns, Big Boot by Rodd Mac—No!  Shane ducks it.

Shane bounces off the ropes of the other side of the ring and Rodd Mac tries to go for another big boot.

Wolf:  Another big boot—no!  Shane ducks it again.

Ace:  Rodd Mac really illustrating his versatility here…

Shane bounces off the ropes once more.  As he returns he goes for a body splash but Rodd Mac catches him.

Wolf:  Rodd Mac showing his strength here, he just snatched Shane Jackson like it was nothing!

Ace:  Impressive when you consider the built up momentum.  Shane was running full speed and Still Rodd caught him.  Rodd Mac is as strong as Shane Jackson is fast, Wolf.

Rodd Mac adjusts his hold on Shane Jackson, lifting him up over his head.  Both of Rodd Mac’s arms are extended, getting the maximum height.  Rodd Mac lets out a yell for the crowd and then steps forward, dropping Shane Jackson behind him face first.

Wolf:  Shane Jackson just got a face full of mat!  Rodd Mac lifted him and dropped face first, Ace!

Ace:  Facial reconstruction may be in Shane’s future, Wolf.  How tall is Rodd Mac?  Dropped from that height is no joke.

Rodd Mac flexes as the crowd lets out a pop.  He makes his way over to Shane Jackson, who is already getting to his feet.  As Shane Jackson gets up Rodd Mac hits him in the face with a left, followed by right.

Wolf:  Lefts and rights now from Rodd Mac.

Ace:  If you look at Shane’s face you can see the imprints from Rodd Mac’s fists.  Working that noggin like playdough Wolf.

Shane Jackson sells each blow, rocking back as Rodd Mac continues to hit him with lefts and rights.  Rodd Mac then whips Shane Jackson into the Hustla’s corner, where Gutta Boy stands with a hand extended for the tag.  Rodd Macc tags in Gutta Boy.

Wolf:  Quick tag here from the Hustlas, what’s this Ace?

Rodd Mac grabs Shane Jackson and Irish whips him into the opposite corner.  Shane Jackson collides with the turnbuckle and nearly slumps in the corner, hooking his arms on the top rope.

Wolf:  Shane into the corner. . .

Rodd Macc then grabs Gutta Boy and Irish whips Gutta Boy right into Shane Jackson in the corner.

Wolf:  Gutta Boy into the corner with a body splash!  Rodd Macc just used his own partner as a weapon there!

Ace:  And look at Gutta Boy, he’s rearing to go!

After colliding with Shane in the corner, Gutta Boy then turns his attention to Jason Cruz and hits him with a right haymaker, knocking him to the ring apron and then out of the ring.  Gutta Boy then hops around the ring, grabbing a gold chain around his neck and displaying its emblem at the bottom, a giant H.

Wolf:  Gutta Boy takes down Shane Jackson and Jason Cruz!

Ace:  And check out that bling Wolf!  He’s letting everybody know what town he represents: H-Town!

The crowd pops and Gutta Boy yells out to them.  He then makes his way to Shane, who is slowly getting to his feet, and then, grabbing him by the hair, drags him into the center of the ring.  Shane winces from the hair pulling, and Gutta Boy looks out on the crowd and then grabs Shane by the head and slams him fast first into the mat.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin here!  Get on it ref!  1. . . 2. . . kick out by Shane Jackson.

Ace:  There’s still some life left in Shane Jackson.  What he really needs to do now is get the fresh man in.  If he doesn’t it’s going to be a quick night indeed, Wolf.

Gutta Boy gets to his feet first, followed by Shane Jackson.  Gutta Boy punches Shane Jackson with a right, then goes another right, but Shane Jackson blocks it.  Shane then returns with several chops that ring out through the arena.

Wolf:  Chops from Shane Jackson.

Ace:  Just listen to em.  Reminds me of a small bathroom with cracked title and a broken mirror, from a long time ago. . .

Wolf:  You look like the product of spanking Ace.  You’re broken.

Ace:  Oh no, it wasn’t my parents or anything. . .  I used to be very big into BDSM. 

Shane Jackson then locks up with Gutta Boy, and immediately gets behind him, grabbing Gutta Boy’s arm in a hammerlock.

Wolf:  Quick tie up, Shane Jackson with the hammerlock on Gutta Boy.

Ace:  You can’t punch if your arm doesn’t work.

Wolf:  You can’t do a lot of things, if that’s the case.

Gutta Boy winces as Shane applies pressure, but Gutta Boy quickly moves toward the ropes and then hooks his off arm, repelling himself back but holding on.  The momentum brings Shane backwards, and he loses the hold, having to roll backwards to the standing position.  Shane rises to his feet as Gutta Boy turns around and clothesline lines him out of the ring.

Wolf:  And out goes Gutta Boy!

Ace:  Gutta Boy thought he had Shane with that maneuver there, but Shane rolled out instead of slamming to the mat and hit an unexpected Gutta Boy right out of the ring!  And look at him gloat!

Shane Jackson turns and raises his arms, as Cash Money fans in the crowd rise to their feet and cheer.  Shane Jackson then turns toward the ropes to retrieve Gutta Boy, but Gutta Boy is already crawling up onto the ring apron.  Shane Jackson breathing heavier, makes his way over to Gutta Boy and reaches over the top rope, grabbing a couple of Gutta Boy’s dreads and pulling him to his feet.

Wolf:  Shane Jackson making great use of Gutta Boy’s hair.  What’s he going to do here?

Shane Jackson hooks Gutta Boy’s head and tosses Gutta Boy’s off arm over his head and reaches down to grab his tights to suplex him into the ring.

Wolf:  Shane Jackson going for the suplex here.  But no!  Gutta Boy’s out of it, left, right, left.  Shane Jackson taking punches now. . .

Freed from the hold, Gutta Boy grabs the top rope and pulls himself into the ring over Shane Jackson, grabbing his hips as he lands in attempt to sunset flip him into a pin.  Shane Jackson teeters back and forth on his feet, Gutta Boy kicking his legs on the mat in attempt to pull Shane down to the mat, but Shane keeps his balance and then reaches up and places a strike to Gutta Boy’s head and the hold is broken.

Wolf:  Gutta Boy tried to go for the sunset flip there, but Shane Jackson--the athlete that he is--was able to keep his balance.

Ace:  I can’t even walk around my house without stubbing my toe on something.  Don’t you hate that shit?

Wolf:  You need a bigger place. . .

Shane then drops, sitting on Gutta Boy’s chest for the pin.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin, 1. . . 2. . .

Gutta Boy pulls Shane downward, pinning him to the mat, his legs at either side of Shane’s head.

Wolf:  Reversal, another pin, 1. . . 2. . .

Shane rolls out of it then grabs Gutta Boy’s legs and flips over, bridging over him for the pin.

Wolf:  Pin by Shane!  1. . .2. . . No!  Kick out.

Ace:  What the hell was that Wolf?

After the kick out the two men separate and Shane gets to his feet first, followed by Gutta Boy.  Shane then whips Gutta Boy into the ropes and goes for the dropkick, but as Gutta Boy gets to the ropes he hooks his arms and does not return.

Wolf:  Shane coming up with nothing on the dropkick.

Ace:  Was Gutta Boy actually thinking ahead on that one? 

Gutta Boy looks out on the crowd, brandishing his H-Town bling once more for all to see.  As he does this Shane slowly gets to his feet, and as Gutta Boy turns around Shane charges him and knocks him to the mat with a clothesline.  Shane then bounces off the ropes for momentum and comes down on Gutta Boy’s throat with his leg.

Wolf:  Leg Drop from Shane, and Gutta Boy is down now.

Ace:  What he needs to do is go for the tag.  Go for the tag you fool!

Shane then stomps Gutta Boy in the head, once, twice, three times, before grabbing onto his dreads and pulling him to his feet.  Shane then kicks Gutta Boy in the abdomen and DDT’s him to the mat.

Wolf:  DDT from Shane!  Cash Money just may have a chance in this thing, Ace.

Ace:  Does Shane expect to do it all on his own?  Make the tag damn it!

Shane taunts the crowd, screaming loud enough for CASH MONEY to be picked up on the audio.  Shane then drops to his knees and covers a fallen Gutta Boy.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin. . . 1. . . 2. . . kick out by Gutta Boy.

Ace:  I’m telling you, he should have gone for the tag.

The crowd buzzes as both men remain on the mat, breathing heavy.  Gutta Boy looks up into the lights, lying flat on his back, his chest heaving up and down, up and down as he sucks in air.  Shane begins his slow crawl to the Cash Money corner.

Wolf:  Well both men down here, apparently Shane only had so much left.

Ace:  He should have gone for the—

Wolf:  We know, we know, Ace:  he should have gone for the tag.

Rodd Macc leans over the top rope, stretching out his arm to limit the distance Gutta Boy would have to cover in order to get the tag.  Jason Cruz does the same, leaning out toward Shane for the tag. 

Wolf:  Both competitors working toward the ropes, but who’s gonna be first?

Ace:  Just listen to these fans, Wolf.  Hello Madison Square Garden!  How nice of you to show up!

Gutta Boy reaches his corner and tags in Rodd Macc.  The crowd pops.  As Rodd Macc steps over the top rope to enter the ring, Shane reaches an outstretched Jason Cruz and makes the tag with a big slapping sound of flesh on flesh.

Wolf:  Big Rodd Macc in the ring now, the power half of the H-Town Hustlas, and Jason Cruz is in the ring now after a tag.

Ace:  Jason has been itching to get into this match, and strives everlasting to appease the man who saved his life… But he may as well get out of there cause he’s gonna have to go toe to toe with the big man.

Wolf:  Clothesline by Rodd Macc, ducked by Jason, Jason firing back now.  Lefts, rights, Rodd Macc is getting rocked Ace!

After ducking the clothesline, Jason punches Rodd Macc in the face with several lefts and rights, before locking up.  Jason then kicks Rodd in the gut and then hooks his head.  Jason tries to lift him with a suplex, but the weight of Rodd Macc is too much.

Wolf:  Well, not the smartest option here.  Jason trying to lift Rodd Macc!

Ace:  Good luck with that.

Jason tries to lift Rodd Macc again but he blocks it, then lifts Jason in the air and slams him to the mat, falling backward.

Wolf:  Suplex from Rodd Macc!  He reversed it.

Ace:  Simple physics, Wolf.

Rodd Macc gets to his feet and flexes for the crowd.  He then shouts out H-TOWN!  The crowd responds by cheering.  Rodd Macc then brings Jason to his feet, grabbing him by the hair, and Irish whips him into the corner.  Rodd Macc then charges, but Jason, the quicker man, quickly sidesteps him and gets out of the way. 

Wolf:  Jason avoiding Rodd Macc here, using his speed to get away from the big man.

Ace:  Put the brakes on, big fella!

Rodd Macc turns around and as he does, Jason jumps into the air, planting Rodd Macc in the chest with two feet.

Wolf:  Missle drop kick from Jason Cruz!

The force of the drop kick sends Rodd Mac into the turnbuckle.  He rebounds off the turnbuckle, selling the drop kick and Jason wraps his leg around Rodd Mac and trips him.  Rodd Macc falls to the ground and Jason quickly descends upon the fallen Rodd Macc, who lies on the mat on his back.  Jason grabs Rodd Macc’s left arm and puts his leg behind Rodd Mac’s head, so that Rodd Macc’s neck is behind Jason’s knee.  Jason moves Rodd Macc to his side and steps with his foot over Rodd Mac’s body and pulls, applying pressure to the back of the Rodd’s neck.

Wolf:  We’ve got some sort of submission hold by Jason Cruz on Rodd Macc here. . .

Ace:  Yes, the wrestling nerds in the back have informed me over my ear piece that Jason is performing an armbar neck submission, made famous by Brad Armstrong.

Wolf:  Well there you have it, an armbar neck submission.  Somebody get those nerds another bag of cheetos for all their hard work!

Jason pulls back on Rodd Macc’s arm, his knee placed well on the back of Rodd’s neck.  He grimaces from the pain, and even reaches out toward Gutta Boy, but the distance is too great to make the tag.  The referee gets down and checks on Rodd Macc, looking to see if he wants to submit.

Wolf:  The technical prowess of Jason Cruz and Cash Money being displayed here.  Rodd Macc in trouble, and he has nowhere to go!

Ace:  This is smart, Wolf.  He’s trying to incapacitate the big man while he can.  He’s certainly not going to be winning any power struggles with this man.

Jason then adjusts his hold, turning Rodd Macc on his back, pinning him to the mat.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin here!

Ace:  Is it a pin or a submission?  I’ve never see anything like that.

Wolf:  The ref is down!  1. . . 2. . . kick out by Rodd Macc!

Ace:  Pure abdominal strength got Rodd Macc out of that one.

Rodd Macc turns to get up from his knees, but Jason Cruz jumps on his back, wrapping his arms around Rodd Macc’s neck.

Wolf:  Jason Cruz jumped on Rodd Macc!  We’ve got a sleeper hold.

Ace:  Jumped on his back just like a monkey!

Rodd Macc can be seen grimacing, his tongue sticking out of his mouth for a few brief moments as he tries to breathe.  Slowly he gets to his feet, first planting one foot, then using his calf muscles to bring himself up as his other foot plants on the matt.  Standing, Rodd Macc waves his arms around, as Jason continues to keep the hold.

Wolf:  And look at this!  Rodd Macc is on his feet!  He’s carrying Jason Cruz.

Ace:  He just wanted to give him a piggy back ride, Wolf.

Rodd Macc takes a few steps toward the H-Town Hustla’s neutral corner, but changes his mind, and instead falls backward, bringing Jason to the matt underneath him.

Wolf:  Rodd Macc is out of it!

Ace:  And so is Jason Cruz!  He just got flattened by an H-Town Hustla.  Everything is bigger in Texas, Wolf!

Rodd Macc crawls over to Jason Cruz and goes for the pin.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin!  1.  .  . 2.  .  . No!  Kick out by Jason Cruz.  Near pin fall there from Rodd Macc.

Rodd Macc moves over to Jason Cruz and brings him to his feet.  Rodd Macc then Irish whips Cruz into the ropes, but Cruz reverses, Irish whipping Rodd Macc instead.  As Rodd Macc bounces off the ropes, Gutta Boy makes the blind tag.

Wolf:  Gutta Boy made the tag, don’t know if the referee saw it.

Ace:  I don’t think Jason Cruz saw it, that’s for sure.

As Rodd Macc returns from the ropes he clotheslines Jason Cruz to the matt.  Gutta Boy, who is already perched on top of the ropes jumps off and goes for an elbow drop on Jason Cruz, but Jason Cruz rolls out of the way and Gutta boy slams to the mat.

Wolf:  No one home for the elbow drop!

Ace:  That’s why they call it high-risk Wolf.  Sometimes the risk isn’t worth the payoff.

Jason Cruz gets to his feet as Gutta Boy does and the two immediately lock up.  Jason Cruz then goes to a rear lock up.  Gutta Boy looks behind him, and reverses, going to a rear lock up himself.  Gutta Boy holds Jason Cruz in this position for a few moments before Jason Cruz reaches up at Gutta Boy’s head and brings him over his shoulder and to the mat into the seated position with a snap mare.  He keeps the hold and quickly applies a chinlock.

Wolf:  Sorry for the lack of play by play here, but these two moving quickly here.  Jason Cruz currently has Gutta Boy in a rear chin lock.

Ace:  You’re slipping in your years Wolf. . . I know I say this a lot but I suspect you’re a victim of Alzheimer’s. 

Wolf:  I didn’t see you stepping up, Ace… And I don’t have Alzheimer’s!

Ace:  Isn’t that something someone with advanced Alzheimer’s would say?  What’s your name?  Where are you right now?

Wolf:  Oh shut up.

Jason Cruz pulls back on Gutta Boy’s chin, producing a look of pain on Gutta Boy’s face.  The referee gets down and checks up on Gutta Boy, asking if he would like to submit.  Gutta Boy shakes his head as Jason Cruz continues to pull back.

Wolf:  Well Gutta Boy is gonna have to get out of this situation if he doesn’t want this match to end right here and now.

Gutta Boy starts to move on the mat, and manages to get to the side of Jason Cruz.  Jason Cruz shakes his head, as if to keep Gutta Boy from getting out of the hold but it is no use.  Gutta Boy gets to the side of Jason Cruz and punches him once in the gut, then once more.

Wolf:  Gutta Boy out of it.  Taking it to Jason Cruz now.

Gutta Boy then takes Jason Cruz and bounces him off of the ropes.  Jason Cruz comes off the ropes on the other side of the ring and as he returns Gutta Boy hooks him for a hip toss.  Jason Cruz blocks it then passes over and hip tosses Gutta Boy to the mat himself.

Wolf:  Hip toss by Cruz!

Ace:  Gutta Boy is down and he’s in trouble.  He’s got to go—

Wolf:  We know we know.. The tag right?  That’s what you were going to say wasn’t it?

Ace:  Not necessarily. . .

Jason Cruz goes over to Gutta Boy and stomps him, once, twice, three times on the back of the head.  Bending over, Jason Cruz grabs Gutta Boy by the dreads.  He raises one arm and again shouts out CASH MONEY, as Gutta Boy sits, hanging from his own hair.  Jason Cruz then brings Gutta boy to his feet and grabbing him spins him around and drops him down to the mat.

Wolf:  Text book Neck breaker from Jason Cruz!  Gutta boy is down!

Ace:  Cash Money gonna get a bonus tonight if they win.  And you know what that means. . . even more cash money for Cash Money!

Jason Cruz then goes for the tag, tagging in Shane Jackson.  Shane Jackson then goes over to Gutta Boy and brings him to his feet.  Shane Jackson lifts Gutta Boy onto his shoulders as Jason Cruz climbs the top turnbuckle.

Wolf:  High risk move coming up right here!

Ace:  We know this!  Cash Money calls this move Cash Missles!

Jason Cruz drops off the top rope and drop kicks Gutta Boy off of Shane Jackson’s shoulders.  Shane Jackson goes for the pin as Cruz charges Rodd Macc on the apron and knocks him off and out of the ring.  The ref drops to the mat and Jason Cruz raises his arms to count along with the crowd and everyone else.

Wolf:  Pin here!  This could be it!  1. . . 2. . . 3!  It is!  It is!  Cash Money has just defeated the H-Town Hustlas!

‘It Gets Me Through’ begins to play as the crowd pops and Shane Jackson gets to his feet to celebrate with Jason Cruz.

Ace:  And the H-Town Hustlas losing streak continues!

The ref raises the arms of Shane Jackson and Jason Cruz as Gutta Boy rolls out of the ring to join a stunned Rodd Macc.

Announcer:  Ladies and Gentlemen, here are your winners, Shane Jackson and Jason Cruz. . .  CASH MONEYYYY!

Wolf:  Cash Money has won it!  And look at Rodd Macc, he can’t believe it!

Ace:  He’s without any belief Wolf!

The camera cuts to a two shot of Wolf and Ace, and we see Wolf staring at Ace like he’s a total asshole.  One wonders why he works with someone he can’t stand.

Wolf:  There you have it folks, our first match of the night.  We’ve got lots of action for you, scheduled next we’ve got Cort Vang taking on Bobby Dean.

Ace:  I can’t wait for that one, Wolf!

Suddenly the camera feed flickers, and cuts to black for a moment.

Wolf:  The tech team is saying we’re having some technical difficulties, I apologize folks.

The screen cuts to black once more.

Wolf:  Just what the hell is going on?

Ace:  I have no idea.  What did you touch?  Did you break something?


Kendu's Comming

We cut to a dark screen then all of a sudden there is a bright flash accompanied by the sounds of explosions. The shot goes to what appears to be a landfill with a man leaning up against a Jeep Wrangler with his eyes fixated on the camera as it draws in closer.  He flashes an evil grin with yellow stained teeth from smoking cigars.  He speaks in a deep voice that’s a bit raspy.

Major Kendu:  Hello Death Row Wrestling Fans.  My name is Kurt “Major” Kendu.  I’m coming and there’s nothing you can do to stop this from happening.  I’ve been waiting to get back into the ring for a while now since the untimely death of the last federation I was in.  I waited and waited but I cannot wait any longer for the staff to book events.  So I took the SCW world heavyweight title by force and left.  I now come to Death Row to make a new statement.  I will destroy you each individually as I make my way to the top and rightfully possess the Death Row Champion title. 

Kendu points to a line of tombs with different types of gravestones.

Major Kendu:  You see this is what I do with my competitors.  I bury you like the trash you are.  He he he.  I will fight anyone anywhere anytime.   Don’t think that I’m just some hot head coming in wet behind the ears.  I’ve been around I’ve seen and done lots of things…..horrible things to win.  I plan on adding a few more of you to my collection. 

Kendu looks into the camera as if he’s peering straight into your soul as it closes in.

Major Kendu:  So I ask, who’s my first step towards Death Row Greatness?  Only Tim Ross knows and I plan on finding out soon...very soon.

Kendu gives another snarl as he climbs into his Jeep and takes off spitting up clumps of trash and dirt towards the camera.

The shot fades to black.

Cort Vang vs Bobby Dean

Wolf:   I don’t know what that was.

Ace:  That, was Major Kendu, and Kendu. . . CanDo anything.  You see what I did there?

Wolf:  Yeah, and I can’t say I’m very impressed.

Wolf and Ace sit at their commentators table, the fans in N.Y.C buzzing behind them.  A ‘YOU CAN’T READ’ chant starts up.

Ace:  Well the ‘YOU CAN’T READ’ chants are already starting up, and that can only mean one thing, Wolf.  Cort Vang.  The fans know it--I know it--you know it--so why say any more?

Wolf:  This guy might not know how to read but he sure knows how to disrupt a show, if we can go to the highlight--

A highlight plays showing Cort Vang attacking Tombs in the back before his match.

Wolf:  It all went down last Lethal Injection.  Tombs was scheduled to take on IM Hate, and even before the match took place, Tombs was attacked savagely from behind by Cort Vang.

The highlight shows referees and staff in the back, trying to separate Cort Vang and FJ Tombs, the two men engaged in deadly combat.

Ace:  FJ Tombs must have a target on his back, because wherever he seems to go somebody is up in his business, and if you remember, the only reason he was in that match with IM Hate in the first place, was because IM Hate had attacked Tombs the week prior.  Just madness, Wolf.

Wolf:  Well Tombs has said that Death Row is his Alamo, and dare I say he’ll stand up against all these forces until it kills him.

Ace:  Yeah Wolf, and so far it damn near almost has killed him, as you can see from the highlights.

 The highlight then shows Tombs coming out through the curtain despite the attack, grabbing his ribs and already breathing heavily.

Wolf:  We all thought the match would be off.  But no.  FJ Tombs shows his heart and shows up to take on IM Hate.  But, as the match was nearing an end and it looked like Tombs was going to pull out the win, despite these outside forces working on him, guess who shows up and distracts him?

The highlight cuts to Cort Vang storming down the ramp and shouting at Tombs, drawing his attention.   Then Tombs turning around and getting knocked to the mat, then falling victim to The Hate Crime, IM Hate’s finishing move.

Wolf:  Cort and Tombs have had their troubles in the past.  This of course, isn’t going to help.  But tonight Cort is up against Bobby Dean, and not FJ Tombs.

Ace:  Well, The Beautiful One excels in everything he does.  He looks good, he makes others look good, and—well, he’s just plain the best around.  There’s not much more I can say about that, his theme music says it all really, and more beautifully than I could ever say it. . .  It’s real poetry you know?   You’re the best… around… nothing’s ever hum hum hum. . .

Wolf:  As Ace hums his way into obscurity, let us get on with the match, shall we?

The lights in Madison Square garden suddenly brighten, as ‘Crucified’ starts up, briefly overpowering the ‘YOU CAN’T READ’ chants before the fans grow louder to match the music.  The Death Row faithful rise, some sporting signs, others toting beers and even a few cigarettes. 

Wolf:  Cort Vang may feel like he’s been crucified again and again here in The Row, what with his name change and everything, and maybe he is just a victim, lashing out at the society that won’t accept him—you know it’s tough when you’re young, all those feelings floating around in you, a need to be somebody, to make your way in the wo­—

Ace quickly cuts off Wolf.

Ace:  Really, Wolf?  Really?  Now is no time to get philosophical.  And besides, Cort Vang is thirty-two not thirteen.  He’s not hitting puberty.  He’s not sqawkin’ like Peter Brady.   He’s a grown man, but a punk, plain and simple. . .

Wolf:  Well I politely disagree.

Cort Vang whips aside the curtain and appears for the first time in front of the crowd in Madison Square Garden.  He looks about, the chant still rising rhythmically from the crowd, a litany chanted over him.  Cort’s only response is to stretch out his arms in mockery of the crucifix. 

Wolf:  Does this guy, respect anything Ace?

Ace:  I’ve always preferred to separate church and wrestling.  I intend to keep it that way.

Wolf:  Dare I say we’ve found the one thing Ace won’t talk about?

Cort makes his way down the ring, and as he does the fans switch gears, chanting “PYRO-CLASTIC. . . PYRO-CLASTIC. . . PYRO-CLASTIC.”  Cort looks around, his head moving feverishly, his eyes filled with hate as his ears fill with a name he no longer wishes to be known by.

Wolf:  Fans of course chanting Pyroclastic… which was Cort’s name when first joining The Row, well the first half of his name anyway.  But Cort no longer has rights to the name and as such I can’t really say what that name was—not in its entirety anyway.

Ace:  Shit I’ll say it, *****!  See?  That was easy.  *****, *****, *****, ****!  What’s the big deal?!

[Note: edited out for legal reasons.]

Cort screams out at the crowd, the audio picking it up “I’M CORT VANG!  I’M CORT VANG!  CORT VANG!”  He continues to shout his way to the ring.  When he reaches the ring he slides under the bottom rope and immediately gets to his feet, continuing to yell at the fans and grab at his head.  In a moment of anger he kicks the bottom rope and stomps his feet.

Wolf:  Cort Vang obviously all hot and bothered by the chanting.  I don’t know if this will be good for him or not.  On one hand Cort could let out all his anger on Bobby Dean, on the other—

Ace:  On the other—***** could lose his focus, and suffer the consequences at the hands of Bobby Dean.

Wolf:  Could you please stop calling Cort Vang that?!  Tim Ross will have your ass!

Ace:  Shhh.  It’s time.

‘You’re the Best Around,’ cuts through the arena, sounding somewhat ironic as the crowd in Madison Square Garden responds with a chorus of boos.  That is of course, unless you believe people acknowledge what is best by hating it, out of jealousy and spite—in which case such a response seems fitting.

Wolf:  Well The Beautiful One is about to make his way out, and the only one here who’s excited—that I can see, is you Tommy Ace.

Ace:  That’s right, Wolf.  What can I say? 

Wolf:  It appears Ace is caught in some sort of love stupor type crush that prevents him from talking around the one he loves. 

The curtain parts, and Bobby Dean appears, donned in his usual robe.  The booing intensifies at the sight of the man, but in Bobby Dean’s mind all he can hear is squealing, the squealing of women already creaming in their panties.  The boos he does not even hear: they are insignificant.

Wolf:  Well it appears he’s no worse for the wear.  Last show Bobby Dean and Seth Stratton both showed up drunk, and Bobby Dean started the night off by tripping on his own robe, ripping it in the process.   Did he get a new one?

Ace:  Of course he got a new one, you think a guy like that struggles to get any money?  Hell no, no siree.

‘You’re The Best Around,’ continues to play as Bobby Dean makes his way down the ring, the song’s hook The Beautiful  One’s personal mantra.  He doesn’t need to chant it in his head over and over again.  He makes his way down the to the ring, and then climbs up the steel steps and through the top and middle rope.  He slides off his robe and does a little grind, completely ignoring Cort Vang.

Wolf:  Who do you like in this one Ace?

Ace:  Well I would defin—

Wolf:  Oh nevermind we all know already.

We cut to a long shot of the announcer standing in the center of the ring, Bobby Dean in one corner to his right, and Cort Vang in the other, to his left.  We then cut to a close up of the announcer; and yep, he even looks like a total douche.

Announcer:  Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is for one fall, and has a thirty minute time limit.  Introducing first, from St. Helens, Oregon. . .

Because he’s a hack, the announcer takes a quick glance at his notes.

Announcer:  Weighing in at two hundred and nineteen pounds, he is The One Man Misdemeanor. . . Cort Vaaaaaannnnnng!

The crowd lets out a massive ‘PYRO-CLASTIC. . . . PYRO-CLASTIC. . . PYRO-CLASTIC’ chant and Cort hops up on the turnbuckle in anger so that he may look down upon the crowd from a position of superiority and degrade them anyway he can.  He gets down as the chant continues, though with less veracity than before. 

The announcer looks around perturbed, then shuffles around his notes.  The crowd dies down as he makes his next announcement.

Announcer:  And his opponent, from Houston, Texas, weighing in at two hundred and four and one half pounds, he is The Beautiful One, The Moist Maker, The Name that Entertains. . . . Bobby. . . .DEEEEAAAAANNNN!   

The bell rings.

Cort Vang charges Bobby Dean, trying to tackle him immediately to the mat, but Bobby Dean is ready for him and hammers down on the back of Cort’s head with a double axe handle.  He then axe handles Cort Vang again and then grabs him by the head and slams him head first into the nearest turnbuckle.

Wolf:  Ohhh!  Face full of turnbuckle!

Ace:  Cort Vang came into this thing ready to go, but so was Bobby, and now Cort finds himself in a bad position here.

Cort Vang’s head bounces off the turnbuckle and as he turns Bobby Dean tackles him into the corner.  Holding onto the middle rope on either side of Cort Vang, Bobby Dean shoulders him in the gut, once, twice, three times.

Wolf:  Cort Vang caught in the corner now. 

Ace:  Cort Vang is in the last place you wanna be: trapped in a corner with nowhere to go, and Bobby Dean facing you down, less of course you are a woman wanting to get with the beautiful one.

Wolf:  That situation sounds more like rape than anything else, Ace.

Ace:  Hey… you can’t rape the willing.

Wolf:  Jesus Christ Tommy. . . You’re a walking PR bomb.  I would just like to take this moment to say that The Row in no way supports rape.

Bobby Dean attempts to Irish Whip Cort Vang into the opposite turnbuckle, but Cort Vang holds onto the top rope, halting all movement.  Seeing his opening Cort kicks Bobby Dean in the gut, the force of the blow bending him over at the waist.  Cort then grabs Bobby Dean by the head and reaches up with his off hand, landing a calculated strike to the face of Bobby Dean, sending him straight to the mat on his back.

Wolf:  Bobby Dean is down after a hard strike from The One Man Misdameanor.

Ace:  Yeah you think Cort learned to fight all those years he spent in juvie?

Wolf:  Maybe.

Ace:   Cause he certainly didn’t spend it reading!

Bobby Dean quickly gets up, but just as quickly Cort Vang grabs him by the hair and tosses him clear out of the ring through the top and middle ropes.  Bobby Dean comes crashing hard outside, as the fans nearby pop. 

Ace:  And we’re off ladies and gentlemen, kicking and rolling!  These men are not wasting any time here tonight in our second match of the evening.

Wolf:  That’s right, and for the first time from Madison Square Garden!

Ace:  You know the second I got off the plane I hit the streets and the smell of crime and stale urine hit me. . .  I knew we had finally made it to N.Y.C!

Bobby Dean crawls over to the barricade, shaking his head to clean the cobwebs out.  He gets to one knee and waits there for a moment, trying to recollect himself.

Wolf:  Bobby Dean trying to collect himself here, but he better hurry, Cort Vang looks like he’s on the war path.

Ace:  That’s the problem with Cort Vang, you can’t scout a guy if you have no idea what he’s gonna do.  This guy is a loose cannon, he’s capable of anything! 

Wolf:  And so is Bobby Dean, he’ll cheat to win, he’ll break your bones, he’ll say something about your momma!

By the time Bobby Dean gets to his feet and rests up against the barricade to catch his breath, Cort Vang is out of the ring and on him.  He punches him once in the back of the head and then lifts Bobby Dean and drops him down on the barricade.

Wolf:  Cort Vang using the ring equipment as a weapon here.

Ace:  Get back fans this may get ugly!

The referee starts up the count.   1. . . .

Wolf:  The referee starting up the count now, both competitors have only ten seconds to get back into the ring, or we’ll have a the dreaded ‘double DQ.’

Ace:  What a shame that would be, Wolf, and we haven’t even seen any bloodshed yet.

Bobby Dean sells the bump, rolling around on the floor, and immediately Cort Vang is on him.  2. . . .  He kicks Bobby Dean once in the back of the head and then brings him to his feet, only to toss him face first into the ring steps.  3. . . .

Wolf:  Into the ring steps now for Bobby Dean.

Ace:  What did the ring steps ever do to anybody?!  Why does everybody got to pick on them?

Wolf:  Well if you watched our last show, Bobby Dean sure does have a bone to pick with them.  He was so drunk he could nearly get up them last Lethal Injection.

Ace:  I know, wasn’t that great?!  Vintage Row!

Cort Vang bends down and sticks his thumb in Bobby Dean’s eye, applying pressure.  4. . . Bobby Dean kicks his feet on the ground and then slowly gets to his feet, Cort still keeping his hold. 5. . . . Cort Vang grabs Bobby Dean by the head and slams him face first into the barricade.  6. . . .

Wolf:  Getting dangerously close to the ten count, Ace.

Ace:  These men are after one another’s throats, not a win, Wolf!  They just want to hurt each other and be the one to say ‘I fucked you up!’

Cort Vang slides into the ring and then slides out again to start over the 10 count.  He heads over to Bobby Dean, who’s climbing up the barricade again in attempt to stand and Cort kicks him in the gut and then tosses him into the ring.

Wolf:  Both men back into the ring now.

Ace:  Why did he bother sliding out if he was just gonna toss him in a second or two after?  Maybe Cort can’t read, and maybe he can’t count either.

Wolf:  Would you knock it off?!

Cort Vang climbs in after him and tries to bring Bobby Dean to his feet but instead Bobby Dean punches him square in the nuts with a low blow.  The crowd whoooos.

Wolf:  Well that’ll stop anything, the great equalizer.

Ace:  And that’s why Bobby Dean is a smart wrestler.  The referee didn’t even see it!

Cort turns and makes his way to the corner but Bobby Dean axe handles him over the back of the head.  Cort sells the axe handle, and Bobby Dean picks up his foot and stomps it down heavily on Corts foot.

Wolf:  That’s dangerous!  That sort of thing can shatter a toe!  And then what?  How are you gonna walk with a shattered toe?

Ace:  Dangerous for the elderly, like you Wolf.  They are known for their brittle bones.

Cort sells the foot stomp, stumbling out past the center of the ring and up against a set of ropes, with Bobby Dean in pursuit.  Cort leans up with his chest up against the ropes sucking wind and wincing from the pain, and Bobby Dean turns him around and punches him with a right haymaker to the face.

Wolf:  Hard right from The Beautiful One.

Ace:  I’m telling you, this guy has it all.  He’s got a punch, he’s got an iron will, great skills in the ring, and he’s even great on the mic.  I’m telling you, The Beautiful One Bobby Dean should do the audio book for 50 Shades of Grey.

Wolf:  Why don’t you just marry him already?

The blow knocks Cort to his knees as he loses hold of the ropes.  Rising Cort tries to punch Bobby Dean in the abdomen, and is successful, but the blow hardly seems to faze Bobby Dean.  Bobby responds with a left haymaker to the face of Cort Vang.

Wolf:  Cort must not have much left, that blow hardly affected Bobby Dean.

Ace:  Did you ever stop to think for a moment that perhaps it not that Cort is tired, but that Bobby Dean has abs of steel, on top of all of his other redeeming qualities?

Wolf:  No. . . I didn’t, Ace.

Bobby Dean pushes Cort into the ropes and then goes for the Irish whip.  Cort Vang reverses the Irish whip, sending Bobby Dean into the ropes on the opposite side of the ring instead.  Bobby Dean returns, and Cort Vang bends over for the back body drop, but Bobby Dean jumps over whilst hooking Cort around the waist.

Bobby Dean pulls downward, bringing Cort Vang down to the mat with a pin.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin, 1. . . 2. . . kick out by Cort Vang.

Bobby Dean gets up, followed by Cort Vang, who looks tired but determined.  Bobby Dean goes for the right, but Cort blocks it and gives Bobby Dean a few strikes of his own, each blow knocking him back further and further.  When Bobby Dean runs out of real estate, his back up against the ropes, Cort Vang irish whips him into the ropes on the opposite side of the ring and as Bobby returns Cort measures him up and hits him square in the jaw with an elbow.

The force of the blow knocks Bobby Dean clean to the mat, and Cort Vang drops down for the cover.

Wolf:  1. . . kick out by Bobby Dean.  That one wasn’t even close!

Cort Vang brings Bobby Dean to his feet and then measures another strike, which lands successfully.  Bobby Dean rocks back and then Cort Vang seizes him about the throat, choking him straight into the corner of the ring.  The referee quickly tries to separate them, at one point even putting his body between the two men, his back to Bobby Dean.  With the ref’s head turned Bobby Dean reaches out and gouges Cort in the eye.  Cort breaks the hold to reach up at his eyes and sell the gouge.

Wolf:  Eye gouge by Bobby Dean!  This guy will do whatever it takes to win!

Ace:  You seem to forget Cort was full on choking the guy.  The ref intervened for a reason.  The fight is on, and both fighters are fighting dirty!

Wolf:  So much for legitimacy in The Row.

Cort rubs his eye and turns, making his way out into the center of the ring.  The ref gets in Bobby’s face and gives him a slight warning but Bobby Dean ignores him and instead follows Cort.  He the grabs Cort by the arm and falling backwards brings him down to the mat.

Wolf:  There he goes ladies and gentlemen.  He’s attacking the arm.

Ace:  Bobby Dean is gonna work on that arm all night, and without mercy.  Cort Vang is gonna have to keep up his offense and not let Bobby Dean know he’s hurting as bad as he is.

Cort Vang rolls on the mat, grabbing his shoulder, then tries to get to his feet and stumbles, still clutching his left arm.  Cort Vang crawls to the corner, favoring his arm, and the ref bends down to check on him. 

Wolf:  Cort Vang is hurt, and Bobby Dean is coming after him.

Bobby Dean climbs to his feet and finds a fallen Cort Vang up near the ropes.  Bobby continues to work Cort’s arm, grabbing his left arm and then bending it over the top rope.  The ref counts quickly for Bobby Dean to break the hold.

Bobby breaks the hold but not before wrenching the arm back on the top rope.  Cort sells the arm injury.  The ref gets in Bobby’s face for not breaking the illegal hold promptly enough, but Bobby Dean ignores him, grabbing Cort’s bad arm and pulling him into the center of the ring.

Bobby hooks Cort’s arm behind his back in a hammerlock and then with his other hand grabs Cort for a scoop slam, slamming him down and sandwiching his own arm between his body and the matt.

Wolf:  Hammerlock body slam by Bobby Dean.

Ace:  And look at Cort, the coward!  He’s trying to get away!

Cort tries to get away from Bobby by rolling out of the ring, but quickly Bobby is on him.  Bobby stomps Cort’s arm once and Cort sells the stomp.  Cort then rolls out of the ring grabbing his left arm. 

Bobby follows, climbing through the ropes and then hopping down out of the ring.  Cort begins to walk up the ramp, almost as if to get away, and Bobby starts to give chase, but quickly Cort turns and kicks him in the gut.

Wolf:  Cort made like he was getting out of here!  He lured Bobby Dean in!  He lured him in!  Is he really the best around, Ace?


Cort then grabs Bobby Dean by the head and whips him into the barricade.  The force of the blow causes the fans in the area to pop.  As Bobby Dean rests on the barricade, hooked on with one arm over it and the metal up in his armpit, a fan leans over and starts yelling expletives in his direction.    Cort then sizes Bobby Dean up and punches him with a left, but the pain shoots up his arm and into his shoulder and Cort winces and turns away.

Wolf:  Cort Vang is hurt.  His arm is no good.  Did you see that punch?  It looked like it hurt Cort Vang more than it hurt Bobby Dean.

Ace:  This guy definitely doesn’t have book smarts.  He can’t even read.

Wolf:  You’re a broken record, Ace.  It’s getting old.

Cort Vang doesn’t slide into the ring so much as he crawls in, and Bobby Dean is hot on his heels in pursuit.  Cort Vang gets to his feet just as Bobby Dean steps through the ropes to get into the ring and quickly Cort stomps him in the back of the head, knocking him to the mat. 

Wolf:  Both men in the ring now, and Cort is tired.  You can see the pain on his face.

Ace:  Bobby Dean is down but not out of it, Wolf.  This guy can turn a match around at a moments notice.

Cort Vang breathes heavily, trying his best to catch his breath and regain some the energy that has been sapped out of him.  He makes his way over to Bobby Dean and brings him to his feet, and as he does Bobby Dean gouges him in the eye.

Wolf:  Yet another eye gouge by Bobby Dean!  Come on ref!  Get on that!

Ace:  I didn’t see anything.  I have no idea what you’re talking about Wolf.

Wolf:  Sure you don’t.

Ace:  I don’t… really I don’t.

Cort sells the eye gouge, shaking his head and reaching up for his eyes.  Bobby Dean follows in pursuit and then grabs Cort’s injured arm and turning, Bobby Dean uses Cort’s arm to toss him over his shoulder and to the mat.  Still holding on to his arm, Bobby Dean drops to the mat and puts the points of his elbows on Cort’s arm, putting all his weight on it.

Wolf:  My God!  Look at that!  Bobby Dean is putting all his weight on Cort’s arm.

Ace:  Look at Cort squirming like a worm on the hook!  I love it!

The ref gets down to the mat to check on Cort, who’s legs are kicking around in an effort to squirm free.  The referee asks if he would like to submit, and Cort shakes his head.

Wolf:  Bobby Dean isn’t going for the pin.  He isn’t going for the submission.  He’s going for a permanent injury.

Ace:  Yeah, I don’t know how much hell raising Cort is gonna be able to do with just one arm.  Look at thing!  It’s been abused all night. . . . That’s what she said.

Bobby Dean then gets to the crouched position, and then pushes himself up, kicking his legs and then bringing them down, knee first onto Cort’s arm.  Cort sells the injury, letting out a groan.  Bobby Dean then uses his knees to apply pressure to Corts arm.

Wolf:  Cort is in some serious trouble.  Bobby Dean is slowly dismantling him, one limb at a time.

Ace:  First it’s your arm, then your leg, hell this guy with put kinks in your back just for fun.  One thing is for sure, Cort Vang is gonna be feeling pretty bad tomorrow, and probably for a long time to come.

Bobby Dean releases the hold and quickly Cort Vang rolls to the ropes, and pulls himself up with his good arm, his other arm pulled in up against his body and bent at the elbow.  Bobby Dean follows in pursuit, and Cort Vang makes his way to the corner.  Bobby Dean grabs Corts arm and then wrenches it on the top rope.

Wolf:  Bobby Dean still attacking the arm, and he’s not gonna stop until Cort Vang’s arm loses all function.

Ace:  Who knows, he may even cut the damn thing off!

The pain shoots through Corts arm, and quickly he moves to the other side of the ring, clutching his arm.  Bobby Dean pursues him and kicks Cort in the gut.  Cort bends over and Bobby Dean grabs his arm and then drops to the mat, rolling out of the ring.  Bobby Dean grabs Cort’s arm and drags him toward the corner.  He positions Cort’s arm up against the ring post, then pulls back and drives Cort’s arm forward, ramming into the post.

Wolf:  My God!  We’ve got to call this thing off!  Bobby Dean using the corner post now on Cort’s shoulder.

Ace:  Really?  ‘We’ve got to call this thing off’?  You sound like such an old lady Wolf.  Bobby Dean is just doing his job.  If you can’t handle it, perhaps you’re in the wrong business.

Cort rolls into the ring, screaming in pain.  Bobby Dean climbs into the ring after him, and quickly gets Cort into a chicken wing armbar.

Wolf:  All the offense belonging to Bobby Dean.  Cort Vang is in some serious trouble.

Ace:  I’ve never seen Cort Vang quit, I don’t think it is in his nature. 

The ref gets down to the mat, getting in Cort’s face to see if he would like to quit.  Cort ignores the ref, though he constantly asks him and gets in a position to ensure he can see the tap if it goes down.  Cort slowly gets to his feet and punches Bobby Dean in the face, once, twice, then Bobby Dean grabs his bad arm and slams him to the mat.

Wolf:  That arm is in some serious trouble guys.  It’s a weak spot now and Bobby Dean is taking advantage.

Ace:  Of course he is.  That’s why he’s been working on the arm all this time in the first place!

Bobby Dean grabs Cort by the arm and brings him to his feet.  Rising Cort hits Bobby Dean with a right, then another right, then a third, and fourth.  By now Bobby Dean is in the corner of the ring and Cort punches him with a left, but the pain shoots right through his arm and he turns away.

Wolf:  He is hurt.  Oh he is hurt.  He went to punch Bobby with his left arm but it appears it’s hurt him more than Bobby Dean.

Ace:  What an idiot.  Why did he do that.

Cort Vang turns away, bent over grabbing his arm.  Bobby Dean axe handles him over the top of the head.  Cort sells the hit, making his way to the corner of the ring.  As Bobby Dean comes on him he quickly grabs Dean and spins him around into the corner.  He hits him with a chop and then tries to Irish whip him with his bad arm, but Dean holds onto the top rope and Cort grabs his injured arm, selling.

Ace:  Again… what an idiot.  Cort, your left arm doesn’t work buddy!

Wolf:  You’ve got to give the man credit. . . he’s been fighting this whole time and he’s still trying to, even with a bad arm.

Bobby Dean then grabs Cort and whips him into the corner.  Cort collides with the turnbuckle and Bobby Dean charges him, but as he does Cort lifts his leg and hits Bobby Dean square in the face.  Bobby Dean rocks backward.

Wolf:  See what I mean?  Cort has only one functioning arm but he’s still going at it.

Ace:  Even still, he’s limited to only kicks and rights.  What good is that?

Bobby Dean charges again, and again Cort Vang lifts the leg, hitting him in the face with his boot.  Bobby Dean rocks backwards, and Cort charges him for the clothesline.  Bobby Dean ducks the clothesline, turns around and kicks Cort in the gut and the DDT’s him to the mat.  The crowd pops.

Wolf:  DDT from Bobby Dean!

Ace:  This has got to be over!  It’s got to be!

The crowd continues to buzz as the referee stands between the two fallen men, making the count.  1. . . 2. . .

Wolf:  Both men are down now!  Who’s gonna get up first?

Ace:  Maybe nobody.

3. . . 4. . . Bobby Dean shakes his head and then sitting up, raises his arms.  He crawls over to Cort and puts an arm over him.

Wolf:  Not much of a pin here, but a pin nonetheless!

The ref goes down for the count, but quickly Cort stretches out a leg and rests it on the bottom rope.  The ref taps Bobby on the shoulder and gets up waving his arms, indicating a rope break. 

Wolf:  What presence of mind by Cort Vang!

Ace:  The lucky bastard, there was no way he was gonna kick out of that one.

Angry, Bobby Dean gets up and stands akimbo, jawing with the ref for awhile.  He then turns his attention to Cort and sizes him up, dropping down on his head with a knee.  Bobby Dean then puts his knee over Cort’s throat and grabs the ropes for leverage.

Wolf:  Come on ref!  He’s using the ropes!  He’s using the ropes!

The ref pulls Bobby Dean off, and again Bobby Dean jaws with the referee.  Bobby Dean then picks up Cort and hooks him under his arm, but Cort pushes him away, knocking Bobby Dean right into the referee.

Wolf:  The referee is down!  The referee is down!  Knowing Bobby this can’t be good for Cort!

Ace:  Do it Bobby!

Bobby Dean looks to the fallen ref and then reaches into his tights for his brass knuckles.  As he goes to put them on Cort Vang charges him and hits him with a hard right, knocking him to the mat.  Cort Vang then looks around on the mat and grabs Bobby Dean’s brass knuckles. 

Wolf:  Will Bobby Dean has had some trouble with weapons in his tights before.  I think this one is gonna bite him in the ass.

Ace:  No!  No!  NO!

Bobby Dean gets up and turns, and as he does Cort Vang hits him square in the head with the brass knuckles.  He then puts the brass knuckles in Bobby Dean’s tights and goes for the cover.  The ref gets up and makes the count.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin!  1. . 2. . . 3!!  Cort Vang wins it with Bobby Dean’s own weapon!

Ace:  No!  This is not right.  This match should be thrown out!

Wolf:  Whatever Ace!  Had it been Bobby Dean using the brass knucks you’d be all for it.

Cort Vang gets up and raises his good arm as the crowd pops.  The bell rings and the ref goes over to him and lifts his good arm.

Announcer:  Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner. . . Cort Vannnng!

Wolf:  Bobby Dean got what was coming to him that time.

Ace:  This is bullshit.  I’m protesting this shit.

Wolf:  Aww don’t be such a sore loser.

Ace:  . . . .

Wolf:  Ace?

Ace:  . . . .

Wolf:  Hmmm, well, it appears Ace is pouting.