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Ace:  He’s just a cold blooded killer. . . And I guess in that sense, these two are a lot alike.

Goliath reaches the ring and hops up to the apron, an impressive act due to his enormous size.  He then steps over the top rope and looks at Kendu with cold, hungry eyes.  You can see that Goliath is hungry for action, and Kendu returns his stare with a dead pan look of his own.

Wolf:  Look at this stare down Wolf!

Ace:  It’s like two dead fish staring at one another. . .

Wolf:  And yet another fish reference. . .

Charlene, the hired announcer for the evening slinks her way up to the ring, the eyes of every man in the vicinity going back and forth back and forth in rhythm with her wide hips.  She steps up on the ring steps and gets a shrill whistle from a man in the crowd, and turning she smiles slyly.

Wolf:  Charlene already making plenty of fans here in The Row!

Ace:  I think we should hire her on full time!

Wolf:  And what. . . pay her five dollars a show?!

Ace:  Sure why not?

She steps through the ropes and enters the ring, and her presence is so intoxicating even Goliath and Kendu take a moment to take her in.  She lets out another one of those sly smiles and brings the mic up to her lips, but not before giving them a seductive lick.

Charlene:  In-in-introducing first. . . from. . . um. . . Galien, Michigan—wait—what?  Kendu sounds Asian.  Do they have Asians in Michigan?

Wolf:  There’s Charlene going off the card once again.  Just read what’s in front of you sweet heart, it’s not that hard.  Ace does it all the time.

Ace:  What!  I do all my commentating on the spot!

Charlene:  Well anyway.  From Gailen Michigan—I guess. . . weighing in at—uh—two hundred and thirty four pounds. . . he is Majorrrrr Kenduuuuu!

Kendu keeps his stare on Goliath, who stares right on back.  Thinking it’s some sort of a cheer, Charlene raises up an arm and hops once in the air whilst lifting a leg, producing a pop from the crowd.

Ace:  She’s a star already!  We’ve got to sign her!

Wolf:  With what money?!  I’m putting my foot down on this one.

Charlene:  And introducing next, or whatever. . . his opponent. . . uh. . . from Las Vegas, Nevada—oooh I love Vegas.  A girl loves Vegas. . . um. . . weighing in at two hundred and sixty three pounds. . . he is The Monster. . . Goliathhhh!

Goliath keeps his stare down on Kendu, and Charlene lets another little hop and the crowd cheers.  She then does a bow, which helps showcase her cleavage producing a pop from the crowd, before she turns and exits the ring.

Wolf:  Charlene, you either love her or hate her.

Ace:  I love her!

The bell rings, and Goliath raises his arms to flex before letting out a grunt.  A wiseass in the crowd mocks him with a grunt of his own and a few of his friends laugh.  The laughter hits Goliath’s ears and he turns to find the source of this laughter, but as he turns Kendu charges him and hits Goliath across the back with a forearm.

Wolf:  Kendu with a forearm to the distracted Goliath.

Ace:  You’ve gotta pay attention to the man in the ring—it is essential.  Somebody says something about your momma, you remember it and handle it after the match, not during!

Goliath shakes off the forearm and turns, taking one hand and covering Kendu’s face with his palm before shoving him away.  Kendu falls backward and hits the mat.

Wolf:  Goliath just tossed Kendu aside as if he were nothing. 

Ace:  He certainly has the strength of a goliath.

Kendu quickly gets to his feet, and Goliath turns to face him.

Wolf:  Kendu back up, and he wants more Goliath.

Ace:  Got an open spot in that landfill of his.

Goliath and Kendu lock up in the center of the ring and Goliath quickly over powers him, again shoving him away.  The force of the shove sends Kendu down and his back hits the mat.

Wolf:  Goliath again showing his strength.

Ace:  If Kendu thinks he can win this way, he’s mistaken.

Kendu quickly gets up to his feet, looking around at the crowd in shock, as he greatly underestimated the strength of Goliath.  Goliath meanwhile sees the indecision in his opponent and takes a moment to pose for the crowd, which responds with to a mild pop.  Kendu stomps his feet before making his way over to Goliath for another lockup.

Wolf:  Another lockup now in the center of the ring.  Goliath looks to have the advantage—No!

Kendu quickly comes up with an eye rake, and Goliath sells it, reaching up for his eye and turning away from Kendu.

Wolf:  Eye rake from Kendu.

Ace:  Rip his eyes out!  Stuff em in a jar!  Keep em on your mantle!

Kendu charges Goliath his trajectory pointed straight as Goliath’s leg, and clips his left knee, the force of the blow knocking Goliath to the mat on his back.

Wolf:  Tackle to the knee of Goliath, and Goliath is down.

Ace:  Timber!

Kendu gets to his feet and without wasting any time, grabs Goliath’s left knee and brings it upward, exposing the side of the knee before coming down on the mat knee first, across Goliath’s knee.

Wolf:  Knee smash by Kendu!  Kendu targeting the knee of Goliath now!

Ace:  That’s good Kendu, now keep him on the mat!  Don’t let him get up or you’re in for a world of trouble, friend!

Goliath sells the knee smash, and Kendu gets to his feet and grabs Goliath’s left leg, pushing it forward before kicking the back of the knee.  Goliath sells the kick, reaching up to grab his knee, but again Kendu grabs his leg and kicks the inner knee once more.

Wolf:  Kendu continuing to work the knee of Goliath.  He’s trying to incapacitate the big man, Ace.

Ace:  That height advantage is gone—just gone if Goliath can’t stand.  I suppose maybe he could fight from his knees?

Kendu then goes to grab Goliath’s leg once more, but with his right leg, Goliath kicks him off, the force of the kick sending Kendu back several steps.  Goliath then turns and gets up to his feet, slowly.

Wolf:  And look at the knee of Goliath.  He’s feeling it, that’s for sure.

Ace:  Goliath is gonna need some Icy Hot after this match.  That’s right, Icy Hot, the product the cools the pain and them warms the injury to provide sweet, sweet relief.

Wolf:  Way to slip that ad in there, Ace. 

Ace:  I’m always looking for openings.

Kendu recovers after the kick from Goliath and shortens the gap between them.  He then punches Goliath with a left, then a right, before attempting to Irish whip Goliath into the ropes.

Wolf:  Kendu with the Irish whip—no—Goliath reverses!

Goliath reverses the Irish whip, sending Kendu into the ropes instead.

Wolf:  Kendu into the ropes now.

As Kendu returns off the ropes he jumps up in the air and turns his body mid-air, but Goliath catches him, cradling him across his body.

Wolf:  Kendu tried that cross body, but Goliath caught him!

Ace:  Yeah its gonna take a lot more speed and weight to knock a fella like Goliath down, even with one bad knee!

Goliath lets out a roar before raises Kendu over his head and bringing him down across his knee.

Wolf:  Backbreaker by Goliath!  And Kendu looks hurt!

Ace:  Fuck that, Goliath has kept the hold on Kendu, he’s looking to do more damage!

Goliath keeps the hold and then screams again, Kendu still clutched in both his arms.  Goliath raises Kendu over his head with ease, and Kendu falls to the mat on his back behind him, as Goliath flexes once more to another measly pop from the crowd.

Wolf:  The strength of Goliath has just been too much for Major Kurt Kendu. 

Ace:  Don’t forget, he’s always got that bag of trick on hand, should something get nasty.  He had something powerful enough to put down The Disposal last Lethal Injection—I’m sure he’s got something just as deadly for Goliath.

Wolf:  It better not be a gun, the last thing we need---

Goliath walks over to Kendu, who’s still on the mat, with only a slight limp; it is hardly noticeable.  He stomps Kendu in the back on the head once with a big boot before grabbing Kendu and bringing him to his feet.  Goliath then grabs Kendu by the arm and pulls him toward him, using his off arm to strike Kendu across the throat as he reaches him.

Wolf:  What a clothesline, Ace!  I think that one could even rival one of FJ Tombs’ clotheslines!

Ace:  Please. . . don’t mention Tombs.  I know I said he was too nice, but I never wanted him to get blindsided by a car.  Those things are weapons in the hands of the elderly you know. 

Wolf:  Don’t you dare make an old joke.  .  . Just don’t!

Kendu sells the clothesline, but Goliath reaches down and picks him up, tossing him out of the ring, all in one motion.

Wolf:  Kendu out of the ring now.  This could get dangerous fans.

Ace:  Look the fuck out, there’s no barricade out there for God’s sake!

Wolf:  What happened to our barricade anyway?

Ace:  Last I heard it was sold for scrap metal!

Goliath climbs out of the ring after Kendu, who sells out on the court.  Kendu slowly gets to one knee and already Goliath is on him with a hard right.  The blow knocks Kendu back and Goliath follows with a left, before grabbing Kendu and bringing him to his feet.

Wolf:  Kurt Kendu does not look good.  I think Goliath just may be too much for Kendu.

Ace:  No!  Not Kendu.  Kendu Can-do anythi—look out fans!

Goliath waves his off hand through the crowd, instructing them to clear away, and as the fans quickly scatter out of the way, Goliath tosses Kendu head first into a sea of chairs and Kendu lands sprawling on the ground, chairs scattering in every direction.

Ace:  Does that bastard know how long it took to set all those chairs up?!  Hours!  I should know. . . I watched them get set up.

Wolf:  Yeah, let us not agitate the fans more than they already are.  I mean The Row doesn’t exactly have the best reputation anymore.

A few fans get so close to Goliath they slap him on the back as Goliath raises his arms in a display of strength.  Goliath tosses his arms aside, parting the fans and making his way toward Kendu, who we can see crawling around on the court on all fours in an attempt to get to his feet.

Wolf:  Only the second match in and we’re already spilling out into the crowd!

Ace:  That’s right ladies and gentlemen, Death Row Wrestling, up close and personal.  Come along and bring the kids. 

Wolf:  That sounds like a horrible idea, Ace.  Kids around The Row.

Goliath charges him, the camera man quick on his heels and Goliath raises a foot and boots Kendu right across the face, knocking him again to the court.

Wolf:  What a big boot by Goliath!  I don’t think Kendu saw that one coming!

Ace:  He may not have seen it, but he’s certainly feeling it right now, I can guarantee you that.

The crowd lets out a mild pop, a few fans starting up a Death Row chant that quickly dies down due to lack of interest/enthusiasm.  Goliath makes his way over to Kendu, who is still selling the big boot.  Goliath grabs Kendu and brings him to his feet before attempting to Irish whip Kendu into the brick wall of the gymnasium.

Wolf:  Look out Kendu!  No!  Kendu reverses!

Kendu reverses the Irish whip and falls to one knee as Goliath collides with the wall with a great slapping sound of flesh on brick.  Goliath staggers back and falls to the court as the crowd pops at the sound.

Wolf:  Goliath just came face to face with that brick wall!  There was no give at all!  That has got to hurt.

Ace:  Well it certainly wasn’t pleasant!  Not for Goliath anyway.  I rather enjoyed that on the other hand.

Both men slowly get to their feet, and exchange blows, making their way back toward the ring.  Goliath throws up a right, but Kendu blocks it and then kicks Goliath in the gut.  Goliath bends from the blow and Kendu grabs him by the head and runs with him toward the ring.

Wolf:  Thank God!  This thing might take on some sort of a semblance of a wrestling match now!  Both wrestlers headed toward the ring!

As they reach the ring Kendu slams Goliath head first into the steel ring steps, the force of the collision separating the two pieces that make up the stairs.  The crowd pops.

Ace:  There’s going to be a lot of work for the stage hands today.

Wolf:  You mean the drunks?  Absolutely!  Goliath just went head first into those steel steps, and the fans are loving it!

Kendu raises up a hand and extends a thumb, running it over his throat.  Goliath sells the collision with the ring steps, laying on the court on his back, his face contorted into a grimace.  Goliath breathes heavily on the court, his chest rising up and down.

Wolf:  Goliath has not moved!  Goliath is hurt!  He is hurt!

Ace:  If it weren’t for his heavy breathing, I would say he was dead.

Kendu then makes his way over to Goliath and tosses him into the ring, following after.

Wolf:  Both men back into the ring now. . .

Goliath rolls into the center of the ring, ending up on his back and Kendu follows, dropping to the mat and hooking his leg.  Frank Knox drops to the mat to make the count, a few of the fans counting along each time his hand hits the mat.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin, Ace!  1. .  . 2. . . Kick out!  Goliath kicks out!

Ace:  He’s down but he’s not out!  He’s a goliath after all.

Goliath kicks out after the two count, and Frank Knox rises to his knees, extending an arm with two of his fingers raised.  The crowd lets out a shout of TTTWWWWOOOOO. 

Wolf:  Only a two count there by veteran official Frank Knox.  And it looks like both men are down.

Both men remain on the mat, and seeing this Frank Knox starts to make the count.  1. . . 2. . .

Wolf:  The referee starting to count now, could we have a double count out?

Ace:  We better not.  Nothing I hate more than a double count out!

Kendu starts to get to his feet, reaching up grabbing for the ropes.  3. . . 4. . . Goliath starts to move, and as he gets up to his feet Kendu is already standing.  Kendu converges upon him and kicks him once in the left knee.

Wolf:  Kendu back in charge and he’s working the knee of Goliath once again.

Ace:  Hey that sounds like a good sitcom.  Maybe if wrestling doesn’t work out for Kendu he could start in Kendu Back in Charge, only this summer on WB.

Goliath sells his bad knee, and Kendu raises his foot and stomps the knee once more.  Goliath staggers back from the blow into the corner.

Wolf:  That knee is hurt.  Goliath is walking around on one leg here.

Ace:  Good!  Serves him right!  He’s no Goliath, now is he?

Kendu then rises up, grabbing the top rope as he steps up on the bottom rope.  Kendu raises his arm and then brings it down, the crowd counting each blow.  1. . . 2. . . 3. . .4. . . 5. . . 6. . . 7. . . 8. . .    Kendu goes for the ninth punch, but Goliath blocks it.

Wolf:  Goliath with the block, and Kendu is in a precarious spot right now.  I wouldn’t want to be him for sure.

Ace:  Are you sure, not even for a pair of cut offs?

Wolf:  Never!

Goliath then head butts Kendu before grabbing him and turning him into the corner, the two switching places.

Wolf:  Goliath taking control now, Kendu stuck in the corner.

Ace:  The last place he wants to be!

Goliath then grabs the top rope and pulls himself forward, raising his leg to the midsection of Kendu. 

Wolf:  Massive knee by Goliath—and he’s not done!

Goliath knees Kendu in the stomach, once, twice, three times, pulling himself forward with the aid of the top rope with each blow.  After the third Goliath steps back and Kendu staggers out of the corner. 

Wolf:  Kendu out of the corner, and not all of his senses are about him.

Ace:  He looks drunker than Dark on any given night of the week—but especially Sundays.

Goliath kicks Kendu in the stomach, the force of the blow causing Kendu to bend at the waist.  Goliath then hooks Kendu’s hips, pulling him upward before snapping him downward to the mat.  Kendu hits the mat with a great force, and the crowd pops.

Wolf:  Listen to these fans show their appreciation, Ace!

Ace:  Well it was a great power bomb, I don’t blame them one bit.  Kendu hit the mat with such a force I felt that one from here!

Goliath drops to the mat and goes for the pin, Knox hitting the mat after him for the count.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin by Goliath!  This could be it!  1. . . 2. . . NO!  Kendu kicks out!

Kendu kicks out and Frank Knox raises up two fingers, the crowd letting out a fading TWWWOOOOO.  Goliath checks with Knox and Knox extends two fingers in his face.  Goliath gets up angrily and turns to Kendu stomping him several times

Wolf:  Goliath frustrated now, letting his anger out on Kendu.

Ace:  And that’s not good—you think this guy is bad when he’s his everyday normal self—wait till you see him when he’s angry!  Kendu is in trouble now!

Goliath brings Kendu to his feet and then Irish whips him into the ropes.

Wolf:  Goliath with the Irish whip, Kendu into the ropes now. . .

Kendu comes off of the ropes, and as he returns Goliath bends at the waist and lifts him up over his head.  Kendu flies through the air with a high arc and lands on the mat on his back with a loud thud.  The crowd pops.

Wolf:  Massive back body drop by Goliath!

Ace:  I think I lost Kendu in the lights there for a second.  He got some real air with that one.

Wolf:  There’s no doubt about that, and Kendu’s feeling the effects right now!

Kendu sells the back body drop, grabbing his lower back and dragging himself into the corner as Goliath raises his arms to a mild pop.  Kendu grabs the middle rope and then pulls himself upward, getting up on one knee.  He then grabs the top rope and gets to his feet.

Wolf:  Look at Kendu!  He’s still fighting!  He’s hurt but he’s still going for Goliath!

Ace:  Stay down you fool!  Stay down!  You wanna win the match or live to see the next day?

Kendu charges Goliath but Goliath raises a fist and punches Kendu in the face, the force of the blow knocking Kendu straight to the mat.

Wolf:  Hard right by Goliath, and Kendu is down.

Ace:  Where he should have been all along!  I’m telling you—stay down stupid!

Goliath taunts Kendu, telling him to get up.  Kendu complies, getting up slowly, and again Goliath raises a fist and brings it down across the face of Kendu, knocking him to the mat.

Wolf:  Another hard right by Goliath, and Kendu is down again.

Ace:  And look at Goliath—he’s enjoying himself tonight!  I hope you fans are as well.

Goliath laughs, then bends down and grabs a handful of Kendu’s hair.  Goliath looks up at the crowd as he brings Kendu to his feet.  Goliath then picks up Kendu and raises him over his head.

Wolf:  Kendu in a bad way now, raised up over Goliath’s head.

Ace:  Goliath looks like he could rip Kendu in half if he took a mind to it.

Wolf:  Well don’t give him any ideas, Ace!

Goliath lets out a scream of strength and then steps forward, dropping Kendu face first to the mat behind him.  The crowd pops and Kendu sells the bump, rolling onto his back and grabbing his face.

Wolf:  Kendu down now after that military press, and the fans are showing their appreciation.

Ace:  Goliath has been on a losing streak for awhile now, but tonight just may be his night!

Wolf:  You can do it!

Kendu is slow to get up after the military press, sapping up precious energy in an effort to get up.  He grabs the bottom rope and pulls himself toward it, and then he grabs the middle rope slowly pulling himself up.

Wolf:  Kendu slow to get up after that one.

Ace:  He got dropped from a damn good height.  If I were him I would have quit already.

Wolf:  And that’s why you’re a commentator, not a wrestler.

Ace:  Yeah. . . that. . . and my unwillingness to job.

Kendu gets to his feet and Goliath shortens the distance between them in a few long strides.  He reaches back and punches Kendu in the face several times before reaching down and hooking Kendu, grabbing him and lifting him up before quickly slamming him down to the mat.

Wolf:  Power slam by Goliath!  Emphasis on power!

Ace:  Oh he’s got power alright.  A lot more than Kendu.

Goliath then stands over Kendu a moment, looking down at him with a vicious glare before bending down and scooping him up.  Goliath then wraps his arms around Kendu’s back and squeezes.

Wolf:  Goliath with the bear hug on Kendu!

Ace:  Goliath should be careful here, we’ve already had one death in The Row already, we don’t need another major accident. . .  Don’t snap his spine, whatever you do!

Kendu bends his head back as Goliath tightens the bear hug, giving the illusion that he’s actually squeezing the life out of him.  Kendu shakes his head, his breathing becoming shallow due to the bear hug.

Wolf:  Kendu in a bad way, wrapped up in that bear hug.  His breathing is short and quick, he can’t get a full breath in Ace!

Ace:  Well that’s the point of a bear hug, and with a guy as powerful as Goliath, it’s not anything to play with.  I repeat, do not snap his spine!

Frank Knox checks on Kendu, moving around Goliath and looking over his shoulder at Kendu to see if he wants to submit.  Kendu says nothing, letting out a few grunts as Goliath tightens the hold.  Kendu’s breathing slows.

Wolf:  I think Kendu is headed down a long dark hallway.

Ace:  He’s definitely on the verge of passing out, there’s no doubt about that one Wolf.

Wolf:  This one could be over folks. . .

Kendu reaches toward the ropes but it is vain, for he can clearly see that he is too far away from them.  His fingers spread and he paws at the air, the movement slowing.  Before long Kendu’s head drops, his hand succumbing to gravity.

Wolf:  Kendu is out!  He is not moving!  He has no control over his movements.

Frank Knox looks around and then grabs Kendu’s arm, raising it up in the air.  He lets it drop and Kendu’s hand falls on its one.  Frank counts ONE.

Ace:  I use this same test to see if a girl is passed out enough to fuck her without her waking up in the middle of it.

Wolf:  No!  Ace. . . no!  Please tell me that’s a joke!

Ace:  I aint saying. . .

Frank grabs Kendu’s arm once more, lifting it, and again it falls out of the air like a dead pigeon.  Frank counts TWO.

Wolf:  There’s the second count.  If Kendu’s hand drops a third time this one is over!

Ace:  It’s gotta be over.  Kendu is not with us at the moment.  He’s like a dead fish right now.

Frank grabs Kendu’s arm the final time, lifting it high before letting it drop.  Kendu’s arm started to fall, but suddenly he regains consciousness and takes control again.  The arm stopped mid-air, and Kendu immediately begins to shake.

Wolf:  Wrong again Ace!  Kendu’s awake!  Kendu’s with us.

Ace:  How convenient.  Like in the movies, where the bomb always gets disarmed with one second to spare.  How dramatic.

Wolf:  It is!

He kicks his feet and his arms for a moment, the crowd buzzing slightly and the Kendu reaches up, bashing Goliath in the head.  Goliath sells the blow but keeps the hold.

Wolf:  Kendu fighting out of the bear hug now!

Kendu bashes him in the head once more, then a second time, and then a third and final time before Goliath breaks the hold, staggering back.  Kendu then immediately takes off, turning and running toward the ropes.  As he returns he goes for a shoulder block, the blow knocking Goliath clean to the mat.

Wolf:  Kendu in control now after breaking out of the bear hug and hitting the massive Goliath with a shoulder block. . . I love wrestling.  You just never know what’s gonna happen.

Ace:  That’s right, I could slap you right now and you would never see it coming. . .

Wolf:  Don’t you dare. . .

Kendu lies on the mat alongside Goliath, who doesn’t move.  Both men breath heavily and Frank Knox starts up the count.  1. . . 2. . . 3. . . raising his arms each time.

Wolf:  That’s all Kendu had left!  The tank is empty and both men are down now.

Ace:  If this ends in a double count out after all that shit I give these people permission to riot.

Wolf:  No, not again Ace!  Keep your trap shut!

4. . . Kendu starts to get to his feet.  5. . . Goliath starts to get to his feet.  6. . . Kendu gets up, charges Goliath and hits him over the back with a forearm smash.

Wolf:  Kendu up first, attacking Goliath with a forearm smash.

Ace:  Thank God for that—no count out.

Kendu strikes him again and again before Irish whipping Goliath into the ropes.

Wolf:  Irish whip now from Kendu, Goliath into the ropes.

Ace:  Here he comes Wolf!  Coming at you like a train!

Goliath comes off the ropes and returns, Kendu catching him in the center of the ring with a kick to the gut, followed by a hook of the head.  Kendu then comes down, bringing Goliath’s head straight into the mat.

Wolf:  DDT by Kendu!  And Goliath is down! 

Goliath sells the DDT, reaching up to grab his head as he lies on the mat.  Kendu slowly gets to his feet, pushing himself up from his knees.  Kendu then makes his way over to Goliath and brings him to his feet.  Goliath staggers a bit, and Kendu reaches back with a right and chops him in the chest.  The crowd WOOOS.

Wolf:  Kendu chopping Goliath into the corner now, and listen to those shots!

Ace:  Those chops just ringing through this gymnasium.   Look at Goliath’s chest!

Kendu chops him again and again, working him into the corner, Goliath’s chest turning a bright crimson.  As Goliath hits up against the turnbuckle in the corner, Kendu switches to stomps, and starts stomping Goliath in the gut.

Wolf:  Kendu getting a little revenge here, he’s stomping away at Goliath.

Ace:  And Goliath is trapped in that corner, there’s nothing he can do.

Kendu then runs to the opposite corner of the ring and turns around, not wasting any time and by charging Goliath.  He reaches Goliath and hops up onto his knees, and then tucks Goliath’s head as he falls backwards and uses his feet to flip Goliath up over hip into the air and down to the mat.

Wolf:  Monkey flip by Major Kendu!

Kendu scrambles over to Goliath and goes for the pin, Frank Knox seeing the attempt and hitting the mat.

Wolf:  1. . . 2. . . NO!  Goliath kicks out!

Ace:  And the match keeps on keeping on.

The crowd buzzes after the near pinfall, everyone excited save for the fat man in the front row, his mustache still hanging out over a frown, his arms folded over one another as if he were trying to keep his hands warm by sticking them in his arm pits.  Kendu gets up and brings Goliath to his feet and irish whips Goliath into the ropes.

Wolf:  Irish whip by Major Kendu, Goliath into the ropes now.

Goliath returns and clotheslines Kendu out of the ring over the top rope. 

Wolf:  What a clothesline!  The force of that one knocked Kendu right out of the ring.

Ace:  That one had to hurt, Wolf!  That’s an awful long way to fall, and there’s nothing to cushion your fall out there!

Kendu lands hard on the outside and Goliath turns to scream at the crowd as Frank Knox heads to the ropes and starts to count.  1. . .2. . .3. . .

Wolf:  Frank Knox making the count now as Kendu catches his breath outside of the ring.

Ace:  He Kendu!  Just go home man!  It’s not worth it, you’ve already earned your paycheck as it is!  And it’s a measly paycheck at that!

Kendu slowly gets to his feet and he gets up on the apron, just as Goliath makes his way over to the ropes.  As Kendu gets to his feet on the edge of the apron Goliath reaches back and hits Kendu with a left that rocks him back and he wouldn’t have fallen off had he not kept hold of the top rope.  Goliath then hits Kendu with a right.

Wolf:  Kendu battling from the ring apron now, this could get dangerous.

Ace:  Be ready to jump out of the way--if necessary--fans.

Goliath reaches over the ropes andhooks Kendu’s head under his arm, and hooks his arm over his head before reaching down and grabbing Kendu’s tights and lifting him up in the arm.  Goliath holds Kendu in the air vertically.

Wolf:  Look at the strength of Goliath, he’s holding up Major Kendu!

Ace:  From the looks of it, I’d be willing to wage Goliath could lift two Major Kendus, no problem.

Wolf:  I think you very well may be right!

Goliath walks about the ring, showing his strength before lifting a leg and falling straight backwards.  Kendu hits the mat with a great slam and the crowd lets out a measly pop.

Wolf:  Fans showing some appreciation after that massive suplex!

Ace:  And look at Kendu!  He’s trying to get away!

Kendu starts to roll out of the ring in an effort to get out of the ring but Goliath puts a foot down atop of Kendu and stops him.  Goliath stomps him once before bringing him to his feet.  Goliath hits him with a right and Kendu strikes back with a left of his own, though he staggers about the ring.  Goliath returns with another right, and Kendu responds with another left.

Wolf:  Both men exchanging blows now, but who’s gonna gain the upperhand?

The two men start exchanging rapid blows and Goliath grabs Kendu and drives his forehead into Kendu’s, knocking him clean to the mat.

Ace:  Goliath, that’s who!

Wolf:  Head butt from Goliath, and Kendu is down now!

Again Kendu tries to roll out of the ring but Goliath stoops down and brings him to his feet, quickly Irish whipping him into the ropes.

Wolf:  Kendu into the ropes now.

Kendu hits the ropes and as he returns Goliath bends down and scoops up Kendu, holding him up over his shoulder.  Goliath takes a few steps forward to drive Kendu down over his shoulder, but Kendu slips out and pushes Goliath further in the direction he was headed.

Wolf:  Kendu got out of that precarious situation there.

Ace:  But how long can he last!  He can’t evade Goliath all night!

Wolf:  Well he hasn’t Ace!

Goliath turns and Kendu kicks him in the gut before hooking the head and grabbing one of Goliaths arms.  He turns to his right before spinning in the opposite direction, bringing Goliath down to the mat across his shoulder.

Wolf:  Spinning neck breaker by Kendu!

Kendu gets to his feet and stumbles to the ropes as Goliath sells the spinning neck breaker.

Wolf:  Both men feeling the effects of this match, Ace.

Ace:  They’ve been in the ring, they’ve been out on the court, they’ve been through the fans—they’ve been all over the place.  I’m surprised they didn’t just fight right out the door.

Kendu raises his arms for a moment before turning to the center of the ring and coming up Goliath.  He pulls him to his feet, at Goliath can hardly stand.  Kendu kicks him in the gut and places his head between his legs.  Kendu then lifts up Goliath until his perpendicular with the ring and then drops down to the mat, bringing Kendu down to the mat on the top of his head.

Wolf:  Pile driver by Kendu! And Goliath is down!

Ace:  I’m not gonna lie. . . that. . . looked nasty.  I think Kendu botched that one.

Wolf:  Goliath is down and not moving.  And listen to these fans.

The fans let out a mild pop and Kendu crawls over Goliath, going for the pin.  Knox hits the mat and goes for the count.

Wolf:  1. . . 2. . . 3!  Kendu’s done it!  Kendu has defeated Goliath!

Ace:  And Goliath’s losing streak continues!

The bell rings and a few fans boo the result of the match.  Kendu quickly gets out of the ring and makes his way to his bag of tricks.  He grabs it up and tosses it into the ring and then slides in after it. 

Wolf:  We’ve seen that bag before!  This can’t be good!

Ace:  Goliath better get the fuck out of there, or he’s in for some more pain.

Kendu opens the bag, ignoring Knox who tries to tell him the match is already over.  Kendu reaches in the bag, ignoring the bell as it continues to ring, and pulls out a length of chain.  He raises it up over his head to show it to the crowd.

Wolf:  He’s got a chain!  Somebody stop this!  Come on!  Somebody!

Ace:  You want it stopped so bad why don’t you do it?

Wolf:  It’s not my job and you know it!  Where’s the boss when we need him!

Kendu brings the chain back and then he swings, the chain flashing through the air.  It strikes the back of Goliath and Goliath sells the chain whipping, letting out a cry of pain.  Kendu smiles wickedly and brings the chain up again and whips Goliath once more.

Wolf:  My God!  Kendu’s gone mad!

Ace:  Working that chain like a pro.  You think he was ever a motorcycle outlaw?

Content with the whipping Kendu drops to the map and wraps the chain around Goliath’s neck several times before pulling back on the chain, choking Goliath. 

Wolf:  Get somebody out here dammit!

Ace:  There is nobody.  Less you want the wrestlers to come help Goliath.  I doubt that will happen.

Wolf:  Isn’t anybody going to do anything?

Kendu then grabs the chain and starts to drag Goliath out of the ring.  As he reaches the ropes he shoves Goliath under the bottom rope and then follows after him.  As Kendu reaches the ground outside the ring he grabs up Goliath by the chain and proceeds to drag him across the court so casually it’s surprising he’s not whistling.

Wolf:  Kendu is taking Goliath out of here! 

Ace:  Goliath is gonna wake up strapped to a table, where Kendu will perform all kinds of demented experiments on him. . . or he’ll just bury him alive.  Or. . . he could break free. . .

Wolf:  Or someone could stop this!

Ace:  Again, I don’t see you doing anything.

Kendu drags across the court and out the double doors, disappearing with Goliath dragging behind him.

Wolf:  And there goes Kendu. . . Will we ever see Goliath again?

Ace:  I doubt that.  He’s gone.  Don’t shed a tear now.

Beef Man

Not long before his match, Ian Michaels is spotted backstage with a man from the local butcher shop.  An exchange of money is shown, as Ian slides him what looks to be about two hundred dollars in twenties.

Ace:  Looks like Ian decided to get some raw meat to feed the beast Wolf!

Wolf:  One cannot blame him though Ace.  That man is one sick mother fuc...

Ace:  Hey now, leave the cussing for someone else!

Backstage Ian is still with the local butcher as the camera gets closer and ease drops on the conversation between the two men.

Ian Michaels:  I do not care what anyone says or does you are to uphold to this deal.  GOT ME?

Butcher:  No problem sir, my word is my bond!

Ian Michaels:  Your blood will be the cost of breaking that bond.  It'll be you they slice up and wrap in wax paper if you fuck me!

Butcher:  I got you man, relax some!  This is simple!

Ian Michaels:  So no matter what, you do not provide that retarded bastard or his rat fat friend with any meat of any kind!  As far as they are concern, you are all sold out!

Camera cuts back to Wolf and Ace at ringside who both look puzzled as all hell.  As the camera shoots back to Ian and the butcher, they shake and Ian heads towards the ring.

Ace:  I think Ian maybe crazier Wolf!

Wolf:  Maybe?  That bastard needs some Prozac or something!


The sweltering heat of San Jose filters on down, through the trees, through the leaves, straight down on your forehead, and if you’re like The Disposal, your manboobs—the very same manboobs that are spilling out of your shirt right now you fat pig.  The Disposal sits on a folded metal chair, looking more than a little annoyed.

For one, this blasted heat.  It’s the sort of heat that makes you get swamp ass—and there is very little that is more displeasing than a soggy ass.  Secondly, he’s been given the task of parting with some of his foodstuffs.  The second they appeared at the school, The Disposal had emerged from his beat up car carrying a knapsack with enough food to feed four or five families.  And it was mostly junk food.  The Row being strapped with cash, Dark seized the bag and sorted it, laying each delicate beauty out before giving The Disposal this dreadful task that consisted of feeding everyone but himself.

He is very much annoyed, and parts with each bag of M&M’s or snack sized bag of chips or box of licorice as if he were a bitch watching its owners part with pup after pup of her litter.  Squirming in his seat, he judges the sun and does his best to ignore the customers, but alas they are quite persistent.

Patron:  Cracker Jacks, and uh. . .  oh and are those gummy-bears?”


Disposal:  Yes. . .

The Disposal says sadly. 

Disposal (cont’d):  Those are gummy bears. . .

Patron:  I’ll take two of those.


Disposal:  Yes sir. . .

The Disposal is now on the verge of tears, a great cloud of depression has come over him. 

Disposal:  That’ll be twenty five dollars.

Patron:  TWENTY FIVE DOLLARS?  That’s a rip off!  I had no idea it would be so much.  I won’t pay it.

Disposal:  Fine.

 The Disposal instantly perks up.  He doesn’t even try to hide his joy, smiling wide.  But then the man’s child begins to cry.  The savage bastard actually brought his kid to a Death Row show.   Perhaps he didn’t know any better. . .

Patron:  Timothy, it’s just too. . .

 A great wail erupted from the child, and grudgingly the man handed over the dough. 

Patron (cont’d):  Here.  But it’s highway robber I tell you!

The Disposal looks down at the two twenty bills and looks up at the man and frowns.

Disposal:  I’m afraid I don’t have change. . .

Frustrated the man throws up his arms and storms off.  The Disposal throws up his arms and shrugs, placing the two twenties in the lock box under his seat. 

We fade.

Tarrasque vs. IM Hate

Wolf:  We’ve now heard from both of the following combatants, IM Hate and Tarrasque.

Ace:  Yeah, IM Hate wasn’t kidding when he said he lives on hate. . . that guy absolutely hates everything.

Wolf:  Everything but the Death Row gold. . . but according to Dark if he wants that belt he’s gonna have to work for it.  And tonight he’s starting with Tarrasque.

Ace:  I don’t know if this is a punishment or what, but I know I wouldn’t want to be in the ring with Tarrasque—they’ve cut off his beef supply due to money constraints and I hear he’s mighty pissed!

Wolf:  Pissed or not, Tarrasque is a formidable opponent.

Tarrasque’s theme begins to play through the gym, the single Tarrasque fan in the crowd letting out a huge ‘FUCK YEAH’ before letting out a round of applause all on his lonesome.  Horace unlocks the padlock and puts it in his pocket before unhooking the chain and opening the doors.

Wolf:  Well we’ve got one Tarrasque fan here tonight.

Ace:  Jesus Christ, from what bus stop did we get that guy from? 

Wolf:  It’s nice to see that the fans are somewhat paying attention.

Tarrasque appears in the double doorway with his teeth clenched and has arms rigid.  The single Tarrasque fan continues to cheer as Tarrasque lets out a massive roar which echoes around the gym and frightens a child in the fourth row, who promptly begins to cry.

Wolf:  I’ve always felt Tarrasque entrance needed something. . . and it appears that something was the crying of children.

Ace:  I know, he’s got a real visceral sort of danger about him now.  Tarrasque will eat your children ladies and gentlemen, especially when he hasn’t been fed. . .

Wolf:  And he’s been without raw beef for days now!

Tarrasque makes his way out onto the court but then stops, and Allen Anderson comes parading out from behind him, donned in his usual suit, his hand clutching his ivory cane.  The Tarrasque fan begins to boo Allen Anderson as he appears.   

Wolf:  That guy doesn’t like Allen Anderson.

Ace:  Yah think?

Tarrasque makes his way down to the ring, followed by Allen Anderson, who hobbles behind him with his patented cane.  Tarrasque ignores the fans, looking only at the ring, but Allen on the other hand takes the time to look around at fans with a scowl on his face.  A fan reaches to touch Tarrasque and Allen quickly swings his cane down and raps the fan on the knuckles just like a teacher would a bad student.

Wolf:  Allen Anderson what are you doing!  That’s a little rough don’ t you think!

Ace:  Tarrasque is some sort of super-solider funded by the Warhammer Corporation. . . this freak is probably worth a lot of money—I wouldn’t want anybody touching him either!

Wolf:  But rapping with a cane?

Ace:  Capital punishment!

Wolf:  That doesn’t even apply here. . .

As Tarrasque reaches the ring, Allen Anderson is brushed aside and IM Hate suddenly appears, rushing toward the unknowing Tarrasque.  Ian Michaels drives a forearm into the back of Tarrasque, and then begins to rain down rights and lefts to the back of Tarrasque’s head, not wasting any time.

Wolf:  Ian Michaels attacking Tarrasque from behind!  And this match hasn’t even started yet!

Ace:  He’s so full of hate he didn’t want to waste any time here, Wolf!

Wolf:  This is how this coward fights!  From behind when you aren’t expecting it!

Furious, Allen Anderson reaches back and swats Ian Michael on the back, but he’s not the man he used to be, and Ian turns and laughs at Allen before grabbing the end of the cane and wrenching it out Allen’s hands and using the end to poke him in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

Wolf:  Look out Allen!  God damn you Ian Michaels!  That’s an old man there, not a professional wrestler!

Ace:  Look at you. . . standing up for your fellow old people. . . It’s cute really.

Tarrasque recovers from the punches and lays a forearm smash to the back of IM Hate, the blow causing him to drop the cane.  Tarrasque then grabs Ian by the head and tosses him into the ring. 

Wolf:  Tarrasque taking the upper hand, and Ian Michaels in the ring now.  Maybe now we can finally get this match underway.

Ace:  I hate Ian Michaels, only because we won’t be able to hear from the great Charlene again.

Wolf:  Oh please, you just want to stare at her tits again. . .  She’s no ring announcer!

Ian Michaels gets to his feet inside the ring and Tarrasque climbs up to the apron knee first, before getting to his feet.  Ian Michaels quickly charges Tarrasque and goes for the clothesline but Tarrasque ducks it.

Wolf:  Clothesline by Ian Michaels—no!  Tarrasque ducks it.

Tarrasque then throws a right, the ferocity of which knocks Ian Michaels back a few steps into the center of the ring.  Tarrasque steps over the top rope and the bell rings.

Wolf:  Tarrasque in the ring now, now let’s get this match going!

Ace:  I want to see blood—I’m just throwing that one out there.

Tarrasque charges Ian Michaels and goes for a clothesline but Ian Michael ducks it.  Ian then charges the ropes, turning so that his back hits the ropes and propels him forward into center of the ring.

Wolf:  IM Hate off the ropes. . .

 IM Hate returns Tarrasque catches him and turning slams him straight to the mat, all in one motion.

Wolf:  Thunderous powerslam by Tarrasque!

Ace:  ‘And what a move that is. . .’  That’s my generic Tony Schivoni commentating.

Tarrasque raises up his knee and raises his arms out as he lets out a roar.  Allen Anderson applauds from the outside, turning to look at the crowd to show his pleasure.  The old man is enjoying himself, and you should know that.

Wolf:  Allen Anderson is sick!  Just sick!  He’s taking enjoyment in all of this!

Ace:  And you mean to say you aren’t?

Wolf:  I’m here to do a job. . .

Tarrasque then gets to his feet, raises his left arm bent at the elbow, and drops to the mat, bringing the elbow square across the chest of Ian Michaels.

Wolf:  Tarrasque with the elbow drop!  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him jump like that before!

Ace:  I’m starting to think the Warhammer Corporation would have had more luck creating a basketball star than a super soldier.  Imagine Tarrasque driving the lane. . .

Wolf:  Look out Shaq!

Tarrasque gets up and brings Ian Michaels to his feet, but as Ian rises, he rises with a fist and punches Tarrasque in the gut.

Wolf:  Ian Michaels with a quick punch to the gut, and he’s up now.

Ian Michaels springs to his feet and uses his smart hands, peppering Tarrasque with a left right combination to the face. 

Wolf:  The brawler Ian Michaels going to work here, laying on the punches.

Ace:  Ian Michaels looking like a boxer out there, bob and move dammit!  Keep your hands up!

Ian then runs off the ropes for momentum and as he returns Tarrasque grabs him and spins around, slamming him to the mat with a loud bump.  The crowd lets out a mild pop and Tarrasque roars.  Tarrasque then hooks the leg, going for the pin.  Knox slides to the mat to make the count.

Wolf:  Quick pin here by Tarrasque!  1. . . 2—kick out!  Not enough there from Tarrasque—Ian Michaels is able to kick out.

Ace:  Tarrasque had his protein before this match—he’s looking exceptional.  And look at Allen Anderson, he’s loving every minute of it.

Tarrasque gets up to his feet and stomps Ian Michaels in the head, once, twice, three times, Ian selling each stomp. 

Wolf:  Tarrasque stomping away on Ian Michaels, and Tarrasque is not done!

Tarrasque brings Ian Michaels to his feet and lets out another roar before reaching out and placing a huge hand around the neck of Ian Michaels.  Ian Michaels’ eyes widen, as the crowd buzzes.

Wolf:  Look out IM Hate!  You’re in store for a ride I don’t think you’re going to like!

Ace:  Oh he already knows it Wolf—look at those eyes. . . those eyes are full of fear!

Tarrasque roars once more before lifting Ian Michaels up with one hand, high up over his shoulder.  He holds him there for a few moments, an Ian kicks his feet before using his right arm to elbow Tarrasque in the face.

Wolf:  We could have a choke slam here—but Ian Michaels is trying to fight his way out of it.  Elbow from Ian Michaels!

The first elbow merely agitates Tarrasque, but the second sends his ears ringing and the third is enough for Tarrasque to break the hold.  Landing on his feet, Ian Michaels kicks Tarrasque in the gut and then hooks his head before him bringing him down to the mat, head first.

Wolf:  DDT by IM Hate!  DDT!  Tarrasque is down!

Ian Michaels gets up quickly, stopping to reach back and grab his lower back before running off the ropes.  As he returns he jumps up into the air and comes down with an elbow on Tarrasque’s chest.  Ian Michaels crawls over to Tarrasque and goes for the pin.

Wolf:  Ian Michaels going for the pin, but no!

Tarrasque throws Ian Michaels off of him, but Ian Michaels scrambles over the mat and goes for the pin once again.

Wolf:  Ian Michaels going for the pin once again, but Tarrasque doesn’t want any part of it.  He’s already thrown Ian off of him once already!

Ace:  Tarrasque is still too fresh right now—all those pins are in vain Ian.

Again Tarrasque pushes Ian Michaels off of him, IM Hate landing several feet away from him.

Wolf:  And again, Tarrasque denies even the attempt of the pin.  And Ian is frustrated now!

Ian Michaels scrambles over the mat once more, but instead of going for the pin he starts punching away on Tarrasque in frustration.

Wolf:  IM Hate punching away on Tarrasque now, he’s had it!  He’s had it!

Ace:  There’s still more work to be done, Wolf.

Ian Michaels gets to his feet and starts stomping Tarrasque emphatically.  Allen Anderson can be heard barking orders from ringside and Ian Michaels gets up to lean over the ropes a flip off Allen Anderson before returning to Tarrasque and stomping him some more.

Wolf:  Ian Michaels showing his feelings for Allen Anderson now!  I’d love to flip off Allen Anderson, I’ll tell yah.

Ace:  Ian Michaels working on nothing but hate now.  His hatred for the world is behind every punch, every stomp, every move he’s done.

Ian Michaels then brings Tarrasque to his feet and throws a right, then a left, followed by another right, each blow rocking Tarrasque backward.  Ian Michaels then pushes Tarrasque up against the ropes before Irish whipping him into the ropes.

Wolf:  Tarrasque into the ropes after the Irish whip from Ian Michaels.

Tarrasque hits the ropes, and as he returns Ian Michaels raises an elbow and hits Tarrasque square in the face, knocking him straight to the mat.

Wolf:  What an elbow by Ian Michaels!

Ace:  All that momentum was enough even to knock down the massive Tarrasque.

Ian Michaels drops to the mat after the fallen Tarrasque and hooks his leg, going for the pin.  Frank Knox hits to the mat to fulfill his duties.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin by Ian Michaels. . . 1. . . no.  He’s not able to get the pin.

Ace:  This one isn’t over yet, Wolf.  Not by a long shot.  Tarrasque is a super soldier—or so they say.  You’ve got to go to war if you want to put this freak down.

Tarrasque kicks out after the first mat strike, and Frank Knox quickly gets to his feet to circle around the action. 

Wolf:  Tarrasque kicked out though he is showing some signs of fatigue.

Ace:  Get that beast a t-bone, stat!  Hell just bring in a live cow, lets watch him take it down like a puma!

Tarrasque gets to his feet, with Ian Michaels laying down lefts and rights the whole way.  Tarrasque gets to his feet and still Ian Michaels is punching him with random lefts and rights, but Tarrasque takes each one.

Wolf:  Ian Michaels trying to hurt Tarrasque with these blows, but it seems like they’re not doing much damage.

Ace:  Tarrasque may be tired, but he’s still strong and he’s still got his faculties about him, and that makes him dangerous.  Ian Michaels has got a long night in front of him—the boss was right in booking this!

Wolf:  Well this match is certainly begging to look like some form of punishment.

Ian Michaels throws a final punch and Tarrasque takes it before letting out a massive roar.  Ian Michaels starts peddling backwards, his hands held out in an effort to halt Tarrasque.  Tarrasque charges him and Ian Michaels continues to move backward and stops only because he’s run out of ring.  Tarrasque then clotheslines Ian Michaels, knocking him clear out of the ring.

Wolf:  Ian Michaels out of the ring after that huge clothesline!

Ace:  That’s the hard way to get out of the ring.  I’m sure Ian would have rather climbed out.

Tarrasque lets out a roar as Ian Michaels hits the court outside of the ring and Allen Anderson stomps him, stopping as the ref turns to check on Frank Knox.  Allen Anderson raises up his hands in innocence and backs away.

Wolf:  Get that toad out of here!  He has no place around a wrestling ring!

Ace:  He’s the brains of the operation.  He tells Tarrasque what to do and keeps him on his leash.

Wolf:  That may be true, but he has no right to mess with the talent!

Ace:  What are you talking about—he never hassles me?

Wolf:  I said ‘talent,’ Ace.

Tarrasque climbs out of the ring after Ian Michaels, and as he reaches the court Ian Michaels reaches his feet.  Both men exchange blows outside of the ring.  Frank Knox starts to count.  1. . .

Wolf:  Both men outside of the ring now, Tarrasque is pursuit.  And this can’t be good for IM Hate.

Ace:  Well, he’s just getting what’s coming to him.  Dark is old school, and I think this guy pissed Dark off!

Ian Michaels throws a right, but Tarrasque blocks hit and hooks the arm.  Ian then throws a left and Tarrasque blocks the left and hooks the other arm.  2. . .   With both of his arms locked Tarrasque roars and then head butts Ian Michaels.

Wolf:  Head butt from Tarrasque!

Ace:  That’s no small head either, that’s the head of a monster!

Tarrasque doesn’t stop there, and continues to head butt Ian Michaels, three, four, five times before releasing his hold. 3. . .  Ian Michaels falls back, selling the head butts.  Tarrasque lets out another roar to a mild pop from the crowd.  4. . .

Wolf:  Ian Michaels to the ground after a series of head butts from Tarrasque, and Tarrasque is looking like he didn’t feel a thing.

Ace:  He’s thick headed, Wolf. . . in more ways than one.

Tarrasque brings Ian Michaels slowly to his feet, who is by now looking quite dazed.  Tarrasque bends down and hooks Ian Michaels between the legs and then lifts him up over his shoulder.  5. . .

Wolf:  Ian Michaels in a bad position here on top of Tarrasque’s shoulder. . . This could be dangerous folks.

Ace:  We can only hope!

Tarrasque postions himself toward the steel ring ropes and then lifts of Ian Michaels and tosses him forward, dropping him face first down on the ring steps.  6. . .

Wolf:  Ian Michaels dropped face first into the steel ropes!

Ace:  Dropped from ugly beast height!  That’ll do something for the ole noggin.

Ian Michaels sells the collision, reaching up to grab his face as he staggers back and falls over a fan in the first row.  Tarrasque descends upon him, reaching down and grabbing him.  7. . . Tarrasque then brings Ian Michaels to his feet and tosses him into the ring, following after.

Wolf:  Thank god, both men back in the ring now.  Let’s get us a respectable match going—just once, what do you say?

Ace:  I say no.

Ian Michaels still sells his injuries, breathing heavy on his back in the center of the ring, and Tarrasque crawls over to him and goes for the pin.  Frank Knox hits the mat to make the count.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin by Tarrasque!  This one could very well be over!  1. . . 2. . . kick out.  Kick out by Ian Michaels.

Ian Michaels kicks out.  Tarrasque slowly gets up after the kick out and grabs Ian Michaels and brings him to his feet.  Tarrasque then Irish whips Ian Michaels into the corner of the ring.

Wolf:  Tarrasque still in charge here—Ian Michaels into the corner.

Ace:  Danger, danger Will Robinson.

Wolf:  Odd reference, but I’ll go with it.

Ian collides with the turnbuckle in the corner, and Tarrasque makes his way toward him, his eyes locked in on a wounded animal.  Tarrasque reaches Ian and bends at the waist, lowering himself before tackling Ian Michaels in the gut.

Wolf:  Tarrasque with the shoulder thrust to Ian Michaels! 

Ian Michaels stumbles out of the corner of the ring and Tarrasque follows in pursuit.  Tarrasque then grabs Ian Michaels by the head, bending him backward.  Tarrasque then lets out a roar and comes down with an elbow across the throat of Ian Michaels as he brings him to the mat.

Wolf:  What a move by Tarrasque!

Ace:  Ian Michaels in trouble here Wolf.

Tarrasque gets to his feet and steps up onto Ian Michaels across the sternum.  Tarrasque roars as he steps up, putting all of his weight down on Ian Michaels, the pressure so much Ian Michaels worms about the ring under Tarrasque’s foot.  Tarrasque then steps off and raises his arms, flexing, the veins in his throat sticking out as he lets out yet another roar.

Wolf:  All that weight of Tarrasque coming down right on Ian Michaels. 

Ace:  That’s more than three hundred pounds.  Ian Michaels hates weight.  He hates getting stepped on.  He hates everying.  He’s full of hate.

Wolf:  Oh he’s full of something, alright, but it’s not hate.

Allen Anderson get Tarrasque’s attention and can be heard yelling directions at him.  Tarrasque nods his head at each order, as Ian Michaels slowly gets to his feet.  Tarrasque turns and Ian Michaels stumbles to him.

Wolf:  Ian Michaels feeling the effects of this match, and Tarrasque is not done yet!

Ace:  Allen ‘The Brain’ Anderson must have given Tarrasque the ‘kill’ command.  Nice knowin’ yah, Ian Michaels.

Tarrasque reaches back and hits Ian with a right, then a left, before locking up with him in the center of the ring.  Tarrasque then kicks Ian Michaels in the gut, but Ian ignores the kick and punches Tarrasque in the throat with a right.

Wolf:  Throat strike by Ian Michaels, and that hurts anybody.  I don’t care who you are, a punch to the throat is painful.

Ace:  It’s a hurt that keep on giving; every time you swallow or eat. 

Tarrasque sells the throat strike, swallowing with some difficulty, and angered by the blow Tarrasque then charges Ian Michaels.  Michaels drops, hooking the legs, bringing Tarrasque down face first to the mat.

Wolf:  Leg sweep by Ian Michaels, and Tarrasque is down on the mat.

Ian Michaels gets to his feet and grabs Tarrasque by the ankle and lifts it up, bringing the knee high up in the air before slamming it straight down to the mat.  Tarrasque sells, grabbing his knee.

Wolf:  Ian Michaels working the leg of the big man now.

Ace:  He’s gonna chop and chop and chop at the knee until it’s useless.  And a house with a bad foundation is bound to fall sooner or later.

Wolf:  Cute analogy. . .

Ace:  Shaddup!

Ian Michaels grabs Tarrasque by the ankle and lifts it, again driving the knee straight down to the mat.

Wolf:  And again, Ian Michaels works the knee of Tarrasque.

Ace:  Thank God Tarrasque doesn’t have knees like Greg Oden, or Tarrasque’s knee would already be shattered beyond repair. . .

Ian Michaels stops the knee once before grabbing Tarrasque’s leg and stepping around the leg before bending the leg back against his own leg, hypextending the knee.

Wolf:  Ian Michaels wrenching the knee now!

Ace:  If I were him, I’d pull and keep pulling till I heard cartilage snap.  Tarrasque did it with Hydreck, why not do it to him?

Tarrasque sells, grabbing his knee as he lets out the occasional cry of pain.  Ian Michaels wrenches on the leg, looking around at the crowd and smiling, the hate flowing freely now.

Wolf:  IM Hate in control now, taking pleasure in Tarrasque’s misery!

Ace:  Misery is the one thing IM Hate actually likes—go figure.  Well that, and the Death Row belt.

Wolf:  You forgot Dodge Challengers. . .

Frank Knox checks of Tarrasque, getting in his face, and while he does Allen Anderson takes his cane and extends it into the ring behind his back.

Wolf:  I told you this guy has no right to be around a wrestling ring!  Look at him now, trying to get Tarrasque out of this.

Ace:  Good luck with that—what is the old man gonna do, pull Tarrasque to safety?  I doubt that.

Allen Anderson yells a command and Tarrasque reaches out for the cane and grabs hold of it.  Allen pulls, but it is of no use, Tarrasque will not move.  Tarrasque then pulls on the cane, not fully understanding the concept, and pulls Allen Anderson straight into the side of the ring.  Allen Anderson falls to the mat, and seeing his manager hurt Tarrasque roars and throws Ian Michaels off of him.

Wolf:  And Allen Anderson is down thanks to the idiocy of his own beast! 

Ace:  And Tarrasque is concerned for him!  He’s going to check up on him.  The monster has himself a heart!

 Tarrasque gets to his feet and makes his way over to the ropes to check on Allen Anderson, who is lying on the court, barely moving.

Wolf:  Allen Anderson looks hurt, I hope he’s ok.  I know I’ve spoken ill of him before but I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.

Ace:  The Brain should have saw that one coming.  There was no way he could of pulled that off!  What was he thinking?!

The crowd cheers the pain of Allen Anderson, as Tarrasque continues to inquire the status of his Allen The Brain Anderson.  Ian Michaels slowly gets to his feet, and seeing Tarrasque has got his back turned, charges him.

Wolf:  Turn around Tarrasque!  You’ve got some hate on the way!

Ace:  He Is Hate.  Comin’ at yah.

Ian Michaels reaches Tarrasque and drops to the mat, hooking him between the legs and pulling him backward to the mat, pinning his shoulders.  Frank Knox falls to the mat and goes for the count.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin by Tarrasque!  An unexpected school boy pin by IM Hate!  1. . . 2. . . Tarrasque manages to kick out!

Ace:  That was a close one Wolf!  IM Hate caught everyone off guard with that one.

Tarrasque kicks out after 2, the crowd letting out a mild pop at the near fall.  Ian Michaels gets up to check with Frank Knox, and when Frank Knox shows him two fingers, he lets out an audible FUCK.  Meanwhile, outside of the ring, Allen Anderson slowly gets to his feet, looking quite agitated.

Wolf:  You alright there Allen?  You ok buddy?  Us old folks got to stick together!

Ace:  Oh so you’re admitting you’re old!

Wolf:  Can it!  Before I can you!

Ace:  Woah—where’d you hear that one, The Mayflower?

Back in the ring, Ian Michaels makes his way over to Tarrasque, who is starting to get to his feet.  Ian Michaels reaches Tarrasque and stops one of his hands, stomping him from getting to his feet.

Wolf:  IM Hate stomping Tarrasque’s hands now, preventing the monster to get to his feet.

Ace:  Smart thinking here by IM Hate, the freak is probably less dangerous on the ground.  If he’s up and moving about he can generate a lot of power.

Tarrasque sells the hand stomp, shaking the afflicted hand in the air before bringing it back to the mat in an effort to push himself up to his feet.  Again Ian Michaels stomps his hand, and Tarrasque lets out a cry of pain and annoyance.

Wolf:  IM Hate continuing to stomp Tarrasque’s hands—and I think he’s just pissing him off at this point.

Ace:  Yeah, I don’t know if this is the best of ideas here by IM Hate.  He’s probably gonna want to finish off Tarrasque as soon as possible—and not fool around too much.  Nonetheless, he’s laying on the offense, Wolf.

Ian Michaels then takes a few steps back from Tarrasque, who is on his hands and knees, and then strides forward, kicking his foot up against Tarrasque’s ribs. 

Wolf:  Kick to the ribs by IM Hate—and he really winded up for that one! 

Ace:  First it was the knee, and now the ribs—IM Hate doesn’t know when to stop, does he?

Tarrasque sells the rib kick, but still is on his hands and knees, having not yet fallen to the mat.  Again Ian Michaels takes several steps backwards and strides forward, kicking Tarrasque against the ribs.  This kick seems to have more force, and it knocks Tarrasque to the mat.

Wolf:  Tarrasque knocked to the mat now after that final kick from IM Hate.

Ian Michaels takes a moment to curse at the crowd before going up to Tarrasque and hooking a leg.  Ian Michaels stands over Tarrasque and wrenches back his injured leg in the seated postion.

Wolf:  Single Leg Boston crab by IM Hate now.

Frank Knox checks with Tarrasque, and Tarrasque emphatically shakes his head as Allen Anderson barks orders from the outside of the ring.  IM Hate wrenches back on the leg repeatedly, Tarrasque letting out cries of pain.  Tarrasque drags himself to the ropes, IM Hate keeping his hold.  Tarrasque reaches the ropes and still IM Hate refuses to let go.

Wolf:  IM Hate is keeping that hold on Tarrasque!  Get him off of him Frank!

IM Hate wrenches on the leg and Frank Knox tries to break the hold but IM Hate refuses to let go.  With a roar Tarrasque bends his leg straight, sending IM Hate off of him.

Wolf:  What strength by Tarrasque!  He just got IM Hate off of his leg with his own power!

Ace:  IM Hate may have just made Tarrasque even more angry.  I’d get out of there if I were him.

IM Hate stumbles forward and turns around to charge Tarrasque, but as he reaches him Tarrasque has already turned onto his back and with his legs pushes IM Hate backward knocking him to the mat.  Tarrasque then slowly gets to his feet, using the top rope to pull himself upward.

Wolf:  IM Hate is down, but it seems as if Tarrasque is having trouble getting to his feet himself.  This match has taken its toll on both competitors.

Ace:  Tarrasque better win this match, or the boss will be unhappy with him.  Dark wants to punish IM Hate, not get him over.

Tarrasque reaches his feet, and IM Hate gets to his feet as well, and both men circle one another.  Tarrasque circles IM Hate with a noticeable limp and IM Hate circles Tarrasque, grabbing his abdomen occasionally as if bothered by some nagging rib injury.

Wolf:  Both competitors circling one another now, slowing down the match.

Ace:  I think they’re just in taking a much needed breather. 

Wolf:  Good point, Ace.  Both men looking quite tired here, and the heat in this room is not helping any.

Ace:  I know I’m soaked through, Wolf.

Tarrasque and IM Hate clash in the center of the ring, locking up.  Using his speed advantage over the slow but powerful Tarrasque, IM Hate quickly gets Tarrasque in a side headlock.  IM Hate wrenches the hold before reaching back and striking Tarrasque square in the top of the head.

Wolf:  IM Hate with a fist to Tarrasque, caught in that headlock.

Ace:  Tarrasque in a perfect position for a good ole fashing noogie.

IM Hate reaches back and punches Tarrasque once more in the head, then again, then once more, before Tarrasque becomes agitated and lifts IM Hate up over his shoulder, and then turns him, dropping his abdomen across Tarrasque’s own bent knee.  The crowd lets out a mild pop and IM Hate sells, grabbing his abdomen and coiling into the fetal position on the mat.

Wolf:  Gut buster by Tarrasque!  IM Hate is hurt!  He’s hurt!

Ace:  That injury IM Hate had earlier just got that much worse, Wolf.  And from the looks of it, Tarrasque knocked the air out of Ian Michaels with that one.

Tarrasque lets out a massive roar, his single fan starting up a TARRASQUE chant all on his lonesome.  Frank Knox checks on IM Hate, while Tarrasque makes his way toward the fallen IM Hate.  When Tarrasque reaches IM Hate he brings him up to his feet and promptly Irish whips him into the corner of the ring with such force that IM Hate bounces off the turnbuckle and stumbles out into the center of the ring.  Tarrasque meets IM Hate in the center of the ring and wraps both of his arms around IM Hates back before lifting him up over his head.  Tarrasque releases the hold as IM Hate flies over his head, sending him to the mat on his back.

Wolf:  Belly to Belly suplex by Tarrasque after a whip into the corner of the ring!

Ace:  Dream Street baby, and IM Hate is the only one on it.

Wolf:  ‘Dream street baby’. . . you get worse and worse every show—you know that?

IM Hate lays on the mat on his belly, having rolled over in an attempt to get to the ropes.  His eyes are closed, as his mouth is gulping air; he is otherwise motionless.  The Tarrasque fan lets out a roar that seems even more girly as Tarrasque lets out a roar of his own.  Tarrasque then crawls over to IM Hate and goes for the pin.  Frank Knox hits the mat.

Wolf:  Tarrasque with the pin now after that belly to belly suplex.

Ace:  This is it Wolf  It’s all over!  There’s no way IM Hate is kicking out of this one!

Wolf:  1. . . 2. . . NO!  IM Hate kicks out just a hair under three.  I thought it was over right then and there.

Ace:  Wrong as usual.  I knew IM Hate still had some life in him yet.

Wolf:  But you said—oh nevermind.

Tarrasque gets up and raises his arms in victory.  He lets out a roar of triumph but Frank Knox gets up and waves his arms, showing two fingers to Tarrasque.  The beast looks down for a moment, slightly confused, but then it finally clicks and he lets out another roar, this time out of anger.  Frank Knox backs away nervous, and Tarrasque storms IM Hate, stomping him on the mat.

Wolf:  Tarrasque thought it was over too!  And now that it’s not he’s not a happy camper!

Tarrasque continues to stomp IM Hate, IM Hate rolling after each stomp in an effort to get away.  IM Hate reaches the ring apron and Tarrasque stomps him once, twice, three times before shoving him out of the ring with his foot.  IM Hate lands face first on the mat.

Wolf:  IM Hate out of the ring now.

Ace:  Look out IM Hate!

Allen Anderson makes his way over to the fallen IM Hate with revenge in his heart.  Noticing the referee’s back is turned Allen Anderson stomps IM Hate several times before reaching up with his cane and bringing it straight down across the throat of IM Hate.

Wolf:  Hey that’s not legal!

Ace:  It is if the ref doesn’t see it!  Get em Allen!

Wolf:  Allen Anderson attacking IM Hate on the outside now!  Come on Frank open your damn eyes!

Ace:  He’s old. . . that glaucoma is effecting him again.

IM Hate sells the hit from the cane and Allen Anderson rises up and smiles at the crowd as a half dozen boos are sent in his direction.  He nods his head as if they were an affirmation and then turns to hobble away, but he stopped by IM Hate who has a hold on his ankle.

Wolf:  He should have gotten out of there while he still could!  Now you’re gonna get what’s coming to you Allen!

Ace:  No!  Not The Brain.  He’s a thinker, not a fighter!  Get your grubby mitts off him!

The crowd lets out a few cheers as Allen Anderson waves his arms in the air in fright, trying to get away but the grip of IM Hate holds true.  Allen turns and yells at Tarrasque, who immediately makes his way out of the ring.  Tarrasque hits the court outside the ring and picks up IM Hate lifting him high over his head.

Wolf:  Tarrasque just lifted IM Hate like it was nothing! 

Ace:  And unfortunately for IM Hate the descent won’t be as pleasant as the ascent.

Allen Anderson yells at Tarrasque and Tarrasque turns, IM Hate still draped over his should like a victim.  Allen Anderson barks orders at Tarrasque and Tarrasque tilts his head, as a dog would when curious. 

Wolf:  The Brain commanding Tarrasque to do something. . . can’t make out what. . .

Tarrasque nods his head then drops IM Hate in front of him, before picking him up again and hooking his arms.  Frank Knox stands overhead, in the ring warning Allen Anderson not to interfere.  Anderson ignores him, and reaches back with his cane and swings at IM Hate, but IM Hate worms out of the hold and the cane hits Tarrasque instead, the blow knocking him back several steps.

Wolf:  The Brain just hit Tarrasque!  He just hit Tarrasque!  He was going for IM Hate but IM Hate slipped out of Tarrasque’s clutches in time!

Ace:  But what next?  Will Tarrasque retaliate?

Tarrasque steps back, grabbing his head before letting out a massive roar.  He turns his attention on Allen Anderson, and starts walking toward him, each step being reciprocated by a step backward on the part of Allen Anderson.  Allen Anderson raises his arms in defense and yells at Tarrasque, scolding him, but still Tarrasque walks toward him.

Wolf:  The Beast has turned on his master!  He’s got anger in his eyes!  Get the hell out of there Allen!

Ace:  Well he’s barking orders, and they aren’t working!  Tarrasque can’t hear.  He can’t think.  All he sees is Anderson!

Tarrasque keeps his eyes on Anderson as he heads toward him, so focused he doesn’t even bother with IM Hate, stepping over him.  Allen Anderson continues to propel himself backwards, keeping the distance between himself and Tarrasque.

Wolf:  Tarrasque has forgotten all about IM Hate!  Has he had enough of Allen Anderson?!

Ace:  It sure looks like it.

Suddenly, from behind IM Hate gets to his feet and drop kicks Tarrasque in the broad of his back, sending him into Allen Anderson, the two of them crumbling to the mat.

Wolf:  Tarrasque into Allen Anderson after the drop kick from IM Hate!

Ace:  Oh my God!  They’re now in a heap on the court.  And listen to these fans!

The crowd remains mostly silent, the Tarrasque fan letting out a massive boo.

Ace:  These fans hating on IM Hate now . . . But is that a good idea?

Wolf:  What do you mean, Ace?

Ace:  IM Hate lives on hate. . . he thrives on it. . . are these fans not. . . feeding that hate?

IM Hate gets to his feet and raises his arms, receiving no feedback from the fans.  Dissatisfied he plugs one of his nostrils and blows a snot rocket on one of the fans.  The fan roars out in protest but IM Hate ignores him, making his way over to Tarrasque.

Wolf:  IM Hate expunging the bodily fluids from his nostrils. . .

Ace:  Right on that fans! Ha ha, I love it!

Wolf:  It’s disgusting is what it is. . .

IM Hate stomps Tarrasque before he has the chance to realize what had exactly happened, and then brings him to his feet and tosses him into the ring.  IM Hate takes a moment to take in Allen Anderson, who is lying on the court outside the ring, rocking back and forth and grabbing his abdomen in pain.  Allen lets out a moan and IM Hate laughs at his discomfort before stepping up to the ring.

Wolf:  IM Hate taking enjoyment in Anderson’s pain!  I don’t like Anderson as much as the next guy, but that’s just too much! 

Ace:  IM Hate just enjoying some of his handiwork.  And it was brilliant of him to take of Anderson.  With Anderson out of the picture Tarrasque is without his brains, and without his brains Tarrasque is a real dumb beast. . .

Wolf:  But still a strong one. . .

IM Hate mocks the crowd and smiles evilly, before stepping through the top and middle rope and into the ring.  IM Hate makes his way over to Tarrasque who is slowly getting to his feet.  Tarrasque gets to his feet and IM Hate goes into a run and then leaps up and kicks Tarrasque square in the head.

Wolf:  Running Mafia kick from IM Hate!

Ace:  Beautiful.  Just beautiful!

Tarrasque stumbles to his knees and IM Hate quickly jumps up and lands feet first on Tarrasque’s back, sending him face first to the mat.  Stepping off IM Hate looks around at the crowd with hatred in his eyes.

Wolf:  We’ve seen that look before. . .  That’s not a good look.

Ace:  Time for some hate everybody!

IM Hate grabs both of Tarrasque’s arms and pulls upward, bringing Tarrasque’s upper torso up off of the mat.  IM Hate then places his foot at the back of Tarrasque’s head and releases Tarrasque’s arms and he stomps downward with the foot, slamming Tarrasque face first into the mat.

Wolf:  The Hate Crime!

Ace:  The Hate Crime!

IM Hate turns Tarrasque over as the occasional boo screaming out, the Tarrasque fan screaming NO GOD NO! and goes for the pin.  Frank Knox hits the mat.

Wolf:  No!  We’ve got a pin!  1. . . No. . . 2. . . no! . . . NO!  TARRASQUE KICKS OUT! 

Ace:  What the fuckity fuck?  That had to be three, that had to be three!

Wolf:  It was only two, look at Knox!  You may not believe it, IM Hate may not believe it, but Tarrasque has kicked out of The Hate Crime!

The crowd pops as IM Hate gets to his knees with disbelief on his face.  He throws his arms up and Frank Knox shows him two fingers.  IM Hate pounds the mat with his fist and then gets quickly to his feet, grabbing two fistfuls of Frank Knox’s referee shirt.

Wolf:  Don’t you do it Hate!  Don’t you do it!

Ace:  He’s full of hate. . . he cannot be contained.  The rules mean nothing to him!

IM Hate snarls in the face of Frank Knox, talking slowly but with vehemence.  He lets go of the shirt and turns to Tarrasque, but Tarrasque is already to his feet and Tarrasque hits him once in the face with a right, followed by another right.

Wolf:  Tarrasque is up now!  And he’s fighting away!  Listen to these fans!

The crowd pops as Tarrasque unloads several punches on IM Hate before Irish whipping him into the ropes.

Wolf:  IM Hate into the ropes now. . .

IM Hate hits the ropes and returns, and as he reaches Tarrasque, Tarrasque hooks him under each armpit and lifts him up before grabbing his legs and slamming him down to the mat with a thunderous bump.

Wolf:  Lifting sitdown powerbomb by Tarrasque!

Ace:  No!  Come on Hate get up!  Get Up!

Both men lie on the mat breathing heavily.  IM Hate lies on the corner, whereas Tarrasque lies on his back in the center of the ring.  Frank Knox starts to count. 1. . . 2. . . 3. . .

Wolf:  Both men feeling the effects on this grueling match here.  Frank Knox making the count.

Ace:  We can see that Wolf. . .

4. . . 5. . . 6. . .

Tarrasque slowly gets to his feet and lets out a roar, the past events floating through his head.  He sees IM Hate dropkicking him into Allen Anderson, he sees Anderson selling his injuries on the court outside of the ring and fills with a rage.  He lets out yet another roar and turns to look at IM Hate, who is slowly getting to his feet.

Wolf:  Uh-oh.  I think IM Hate is in for some serious trouble here!

Ace:  There’s no doubt about that, Tarrasque is mighty pissed right now!

 IM Hate gets to his feet determined, but then he see’s the look on Tarrasque’s face and stumbles a bit.  He then shakes his head, feeling his determination flow back to him and he steps to the center of the ring to meet Tarrasque.  He throws a right, the right connects, but Tarrasque ignores it.  IM Hate throws yet another right, then another, then a left, and Tarrasque takes each blow, but none of them seems to have any effect.

Wolf:  Tarrasque is somewhere else right now!  Those blows aren’t even fazing him!

Tarrasque lets out a mighty roar, raising his arms and the crowd lets out a mild pop.  Tarrasque then throws a right, knocking IM Hate straight to the mat.

Wolf:  A hard right by Tarrasque!

IM Hate quickly gets to his feet and again Tarrasque throws yet another right, knocking him clean to the mat.

Wolf:  And another!

IM Hate gets up once more and Tarrasque reaches back with yet another right and brings his hand forward, clutching IM Hate around the throat, his index and middle finger shoved down IM Hate’s throat.

Wolf:  He’s got some sort of claw choke combination going here. . . What’s he gonna do Ace?!

Ace:  I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure IM Hate isn’t going to like it.

Tarrasque then lifts IM Hate high up over his shoulder and then makes his way over to the ropes.  Tarrasque then roars once more before dropping IM Hate over the top rope down to the court below.  The crowd lets out a mild pop, a few fans starting up a DRW chant.


It quickly dies.

Wolf:  Oh my God!  Tarrasque just choke slammed IM Hate out of the ring!  There’s no padding out there!

Ace:  He calls that move the ‘Fall of the Prideful!’

Wolf:  Is IM Hate even alive?!

IM Hate lies on the court face down, barely moving.  Allen Anderson hovers over him, hurling insults in his direction and stabbing the air above him with his cane.  Tarrasque in the ring lets out another bloodthirsty roar to the delight of the fans.

Wolf:  We may need some medical attention!  IM Hate just took a nasty fall!

Ace:  If he’s alive he aint happy.

Allen Anderson pokes IM Hate a few times, much like one would poke a wild animal to see if it were dead.  Allen Anderson backs away, content that IM Hate is out before he yells at his beast to come retrieve the carcass.  Tarrasque complies, making his way to the ropes before stepping over the top rope and out of the ring.

Wolf:  Tarrasque coming to pick up the pieces of IM Hate.

Ace:  And all the kings horses and all the kings men couldn’t put IM Hate back together again.

Tarrasque picks up IM Hate’s limp body, and slumps him over his shoulder like a sack of dirty laundry and then rolls him into the ring.  Tarrasque gives him a good shove toward the center of the ring before reaching up and climbing up to the apron.  Tarrasque then steps over the top rope and makes his way to the fallen IM Hate.

Wolf:  IM Hate still not moving. . . if it weren’t for his breathing I would think he’s dead.

Ace:  It wouldn’t be the first time Tarrasque killed someone in the ring!

Wolf:  Shhh!  We aren’t supposed to talk about that!  You know that!

Tarrasque reaches IM Hate and then looks up at Frank Knox curiously.  He then looks down at IM Hate and lifts his arm with his foot, and the arm falls to the mat, seemingly without life.  Tarrasque bends down and lifts IM Hates head and drops it, and his head just hits the mat.  Tarrasque then moves the head about, and it follows his whims, without any resistance of his own.  Tarrasque then gets up and lets out a sad cry.

Wolf:  Tarrasque. . . Tarrasque is. . . what is Tarrasque doing?

Ace:  I think he may be upset IM Hate isn’t conscious to fight him right now.  He probably thinks he’s dead.

Wolf:  My God you’re right!  Tarrasque wants to fight, but IM Hate seems incapable!

Allen Anderson barks an order at Tarrasque and Tarrasque turns to look at Allen Anderson.  He listens, his eyes blinking mechanically and turning his head to the side in confusion.  Tarrasque’s eyes then blink clear and he nods before bending down to clutch IM Hate’s head.

Wolf:  What’s Tarrasque doing?

Ace:  I don’t know Wolf!  I don’t know!

Tarrasque then looks up at Allen one more time for conformation, before he clutches IM Hates head, wrenching on the neck.  Tarrasque then lets out a roar before he turns IM Hate’s head violently to the left.  Tarrasque releases the hold and IM Hate falls to the mat.

Wolf:  The Paralyzing Factor!

Ace:  IM Hate is out!

Tarrasque then drops to his knees and goes for the cover, Frank Knox going for the count.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin. . . 1. . . 2. . .  NO!  Oh my God NO!  IM HATE KICKS OUT!

Ace:  What a man.  What a fighter.  What a hater of everything.

Wolf:  That’s about as close as you can get a three count.  IM Hate is hurt ladies and gentlemen. . .

Tarrasque gets to his feet and slams the mat in frustration.  IM Hate sells the Paralyzing Factor, hardly moving on the matt.  Allen Anderson seems shocked outside of the ring, his weathered fingers running through his hair.

Wolf:  And Allen Anderson can’t believe it!

Since IM Hate doesn’t read his matches, here is the part where he sticks a dildo up his ass several times to help rev himself up.  The tickling of his prostate provides him with new life. . .

Wolf:  IM Hate doing something, uh, to get himself back in this match.

IM Hate springs to his feet, much to the surprise of Tarrasque.  IM Hate charges Tarrasque, but Tarrasque kicks IM Hate in the gut, bending him at the waist.  Tarrasque then grabs IM Hate and carries him over his shoulder. 

Wolf:  Tarrasque still in control despite IM Hate.

Ace:  I’d be worried if I were him.  Tarrasque is a strong fellow.

Tarrasque charges the corner with IM Hate draped over his shoulder, but before he can bring IM Hate down against the turnbuckle IM Hate slips out, hooking Tarrasque around the throat as he falls to the mat, bringing him down to the mat with him.

Wolf:  Reverse DDT by IM Hate!

Tarrasque sells on the mat while IM Hate gets to his feet.  IM Hate then makes his way to Tarrasque and starts stomping him with his right foot.  IM Hate stomps him once, twice, three times before dropping to the mat to go for the pin.  Frank Knox hits the mat after him to make the count.

Wolf:  We’ve got a pin!  1. .  . 2. . . kick out!  Tarrasque kicks out after the reverse DDT.

Tarrasque kicks out and IM Hate gets up quickly, not wasting any time to argue with the referee.  It is at this point that IM Hate starts to play with his own testicles, his hands shooting down into his pants as he juggles the ole 1-2.  He takes in their texture and smiles.

Wolf:  IM Hate… um… playing with…

Ace:  His balls!  Mid-Match!  Amazing!

Tarrasque slowly gets to his feet, and after a left, right, left from IM Hate, IM Hate Irish whips Tarrasque into the ropes.

Wolf:  Tarrasque into the ropes now, he returns.

Tarrasque hits the ropes, and as he returns, IM Hate stretches an arm out and rakes it across Tarrasque’s throat, knocking him clean to the mat.

Wolf:  Discuss Clothesline by IM Hate!

IM Hate flips off the crowd before he goes to one corner and proceeds to make out with the turnbuckle in the corner of the ring.  He slobers it up, his tongue darting back and forth over the tunbuckle.

Wolf:  IM Hate!

Aces:  Hates everything but the turnbuckle!

Tarrasque sells the clothesline on the mat, and IM Hate makes his way over to him.  He then grabs Tarrasque’s arms, placing his his foot against the back of Tarrasque’s head.

Wolf:  This could be it!  He’s going for yet another Hate Crime!

Ace:  He’s targeting minorities?

IM Hate releases Tarrasque’s arms as he lowers his foot, bringing Tarrasque’s face into the mat.

Wolf:  The Hate Crime!  The Hate Crime!

IM Hate hits the mat and goes for the pin.  Frank Knox slides to the mat to make the count.

Wolf:  1. . . 2. . . 3!!  The son of a bitch did it!

Ace:  Of course he did it!

The bell rings and Frank Knox rises to raise IM Hates hand, the crowd reigning down a chorus of boos.

Wolf:  IM Hate wins after the second Hate Crime!

Ace:  Dark may have been looking to punish IM Hate tonight, but he failed in that endeavor!

Wolf:  Tarrasque put up a good showing!  He even survived one Hate Crime!

Ace:  But he couldn’t survive two!