From: Montreal, Quebec, CANADA
Since last post: 240 days
Last activity: 232 days
|AIM: || ||#1 Posted on 21.11.02 2149.55 |
|Llakor Broadcast System|
Thursday, November 21st, 2002
LBS#6: IWS - Scarred for Life
At this point, I should give the by-now obligatory and official Llakor “Why this damn recap has taken so damn long.” Now, I have been known to put off writing up recaps because I am a lazy procrastinating bitch, but occasionally I put off writing a column because I am just not ready to write it, because something about the topic or the show have left me so baffled that only deep reflection can solve its mystery. Some shows I have to mentally digest, because the show, or more appropriately, my reaction to the show, was so complicated that only time can bring them properly into focus. Such a show was IWS’ Scarred for Life held at the Le Skratch in Chomedy, Laval, July 13th.
( RIGHHHTT! Your explanation for going 0 for August, September AND October is because the IWS put on a show that was difficult to understand. Even the Mets had a better explanation. )
What? That they SUCKED? Ummm... as delightful as it is, as always, to welcome you to the recap position, Great and Mighty OZ, what in the Ancient Green Hills of Two Mountains are you wearing?
( These are my Barb-Wire Pyjamas. And this Pillow with the Fuse is my patent-pending Hardcore Fire Pillow. )
For when Pillow Fights turn Hardcore? Never mind. Why are you wearing that outlandish get-up?
( Because we are finally doing the recap for Extreme Dream, and this is my Extreme Dream Gear. NINJAZ~ are going to win the tag-titles! Just you wait! )
You, obviously, didn’t get the memo. We are doing Scarred 4 Life.
( What and me without my Freddy Krueger mask? You bait-and-switch artist... You... You... SUCK! )
As always, you are the soul of wit. This is liking having Pato or I Supply as my colour man, only they at least have the excuse of being dropped on the head repeatedly as children.
( I hate you. )
Just prior to Scarred For Life, all HECK broke out on the IWS message board as the Red Army General and Arsenal got into a massive pissing contest. Since Arsenal is simultaneously a heel, the IWS web-master, and one of the IWS finest wrestlers, while the Red Army General is merely the figure-head for a coalition of heel fans, Arsenal not only won the exchange, he squashed the General in the process, and the General threatened to walk out of the IWS because Arsenal was mean to him. At which point, *I* got fed up and wrote an open letter to the Red Army General, pointing out that Arsenal was a heel and was supposed to be mean to him.
( Translation: The Red Army General is a big WEENIE. )
That’s not EXACTLY what I said. In any case, I was a little nervous about what sort of reaction I was going to get at Scarred 4 Life. In addition, the IWS had announced on their web-site at the last minute that instead of the doors opening at 9pm and the show starting sometime later, that the doors would open 8pm, and the show would start promptly at 9pm so that people could still catch public transportation after the show.
( Couldn’t possibly have anything to do with your whining about the shows running late, forcing us to walk home, could it? )
NAAAAH, and I don’t whine, I kvetch. Despite my refusal to believe that Scarred for Life would start anywhere near 9pm, I still made my way there for just after 8:30pm on the off chance. Once in Le Skratch, I made my way past Colonel Meez’s new addition to the IWS arena, his new tape table, which naturally contained nothing but the finest in garbage wrestling. I asked about the recent EPIC show strongly rumoured to hold the best American match this year. Meez started raving about the Ruckus/Trent Acid match, and I had to restrain myself from jumping the table and preaching the gospel according to DRAGON.
Making my way over to the ring, I encountered the Red Army General, I Supply and Hooligan of the Red Army, who not only had no issues with my attack on the General, but had saved me a seat by the railing on the raised platform attached to the back bar by the left side of the ring. I found myself asking the Red Army General why he would get pissed off when Arsenal called him a whiny bitch, but when I did it, he thanked me! He laughed and thanked me again “for bringing him back to his senses.”
( Odd power that you have there. You call the man a whiny bitch TO HIS FACE, and he THANKS YOU for it. )
Wish I had known how to do that in High School. The only flack that I did get was from I Supply who complained, again, about not being mentioned in my recap of the Tournament of the Icons.
“Did you do anything special?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Were you the guy that I talked to about the IWS’ inflated crowd reports?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Did you even talk to me?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Dude, if you don’t remember, how the FUCK do you expect me to?”
( Clearly, I Supply has been spending too much time sampling his own product line. )
At this point, Angus of the Highlanders came in, and we went off for a brief, private chat in which he lavished praise on my reports. Since Angus is by way of being a real reporter for that fine, world-renowned publication that is known around the world for being known world-wide...
( You’ve forgotten who he writes for, haven’t you? )
Was it the Suburban?
( Like I’m going to help you out. DROWN MOTHERFUCKER! )
Fuck You, Jushin Thunder Liger! In any case, it’s always nice when another writer likes your stuff, and we were able to commiserate with each other about people giving you vague compliments, when what you really want to know is: What jokes worked? What descriptions were too vague? What didn’t I describe that I should have? Do, I, use, too, many, commas? And other stuff like that. We discussed for a while the fact that the Highlanders have started to wrestle their matches wearing the Kilts. prompted, in part, by me blowing a gasket when they took them off before their matches. He mentioned that at a recent FLQ match, someone had torn his kilt off, and he was anxious to hear my reaction. I told him that there was nothing wrong with an opponent tearing the kilt off, just as there was nothing wrong with a luchadore tearing an opponent’s mask off... as long, that is, as the arrogant bastard eats HOT FLAMING DEATH immediately afterwards for being a presumptuous son of a bitch. Angus also told me, in a SLASH EXCLUSIVE that his kilt is actually his mother’s Christmas Table Cover. I can just imagine the scene THIS Christmas. “Is that blood?” “No, I think it’s cranberry sauce.” “Where did this hole come from?” “Barbwire? I mean... MOTHS, BIG MOTHS!”
As I returned to my seat, a green neon laser proclaimed, “SCARRED FOR LIFE”, and I noticed that Camera Girl was set up on a platform behind the Two Mountains side of the ring, and, once again, was having a good hair day. As with all recent IWS improvements, I take full credit. Mind you, that is, by far, the best thing about the IWS. You complain about something and they FIX IT! With that in mind, Arsenal is about six inches too short.
( SIX inches too short? )
Well, I was going to say that he was a foot too short, but I didn’t want to appear unreasonable.
( OH! See, Precious Lucy said almost exactly the same thing about Arsenal that you just did, only I think she meant something a little different from what you mean. )
I would hope so!
Just as I was about to complain that it was officially after 9pm, and the show was officially late, the green laser began flashing, “Show Begins In Thirty Minutes” proving, once again, that the IWS functions on CZW time. As the green laser announced the show beginning in ten minutes, I took another trip over to Meez’s table to drool over his La Parka and Rey Misterio Jr. masks priced at $20 (Cdn.) each. Meez also had Japanese Wrestling Action Figures, but these had all been snagged by TNT previously. At the table, I had a brief conversation with Disgruntled F’N Fan of the IWS site, focusing mainly on the superlative job that Skeletor aka the Motivator of Madness does managing Arsenal’s burgeoning career.
As I made my way back to my seat, at 9:25pm, the lights went out and the screen came down. As some song that I almost recognized blared on about having the “strength to carry on,” the screen asked us, “Who will leave - SCARRED FOR LIFE?!” I have been critical of IWS promos in the past as being just a random collection of admittedly impressive spots, rather than being used as a vehicle to tell a story. It smacks of faint praise, but these promos were the best IWS promos EVER, announcing the matches and everything, and, more importantly, including clips that were related to each match.
( You planning on taking credit for that too? )
At 9:27, Smoke and green lasers covered the ring. The smoke built eventually covering even my position, as the IWS ring announcer for Scarred For Life came out, once again, NOT Iron Mike Patterson! Now, intellectually, I know why I haven’t seen Iron Mike Patterson in three months. He didn’t go to Tournament of the Icons, because it would have meant going to Deux Montagnes, and we’ll ignore the fact that Mike’s life or, at the very least, his ass, would probably in jeopardy in that hick back-woods French annex to Deliverance country, because, after all, Mike would never allow FEAR to affect his ability to perform, but, on the other hand, why cast pearls before swine? Or, to put it another way, the organizers of Tournament of Icons couldn’t pay an artiste of Mike’s calibre enough to force him to endure the aesthetic agony to the senses that the locals call Two Mountains. As for the Fringe Festival, let’s leave aside the fact that it was a FREE show where IWS comped the entire city, meaning that there was no budget and therefore no money for Iron Mike Patterson, but, also, the Fringe is a platform for wanna-bes, has-beens and never-wases; a place for amateurs, not professionals like Mike. This month, of course, with the Just for Laughs festival in town, Iron Mike is no doubt busy being wined and dined by elite Hollywood talent agents awed by his mastery of the performing arts. Still it leaves us with *ack* *pattoie* Brian the Guppy, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes wrestling radio show.
( Have you finished verbally fellating Iron Mike Pattooie yet? Cause I have to point out that Brian the Guppy, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes, is a fairly good replacement for the egoistical hack who normally does the job. )
What this shilling no-talent host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes? Are you mad? This is like listening to Stephanie McMahon’s irritating twin brother.
( I didn’t know that Shane and Stephanie were twins. )
They’re not. Pay attention. Which I will point was something that I was having a hard time doing during Brian the Guppy, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes’ promos because rather than taking full and complete notes of what he said, I was trying to decide if plunging my pen through my eye and into the back of my skull would end the agony right away, or if I would linger a while before dying while Brian the Guppy, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes kept talking... and talking... and talking...
( Sheesh, you’re chalk full of Hate-A-Rade tonight. Not that I’m complaining, like CRZ you are waaaay more fun when you are royally ticked off, but I feel compelled to ask: What brought this on? )
*SIGH* It is entirely possible that I am being unfair to Brian the Guppy, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes. I don’t see how, but it is possible. Lord knows, I miss Iron Mike Patterson on the mike. It is possible that the half-empty thimble of talent that Brian possesses might be more appropriate to an intimate setting like radio, rather than a raucous setting like Le Skratch. MAYBE. It is also possible that I am letting my work get to me, since I have been working with one of those women who asks you to move a five hundred pound fixture from the back left of the store to the front left of the store, THEN decides that it would look just peachy under the windows on the far-side of the store, THEN announces that she preferred it back where it was originally only two feet to the left, no right, no back, can we elevate it two feet, UNTIL you are ready to see if the fixture would make as good a coffin as it looks like it might... Not to mention that I ended up working twelve days straight completing a project for her boss that she took credit for completing, when I should have been searching for a new apartment instead. And let me tell you, in this city, finding a cheap 4 & 1/2 in a good neighbourhood near the metro is like finding sustained selling in a Legion of Doom match. I will admit that all of THAT crap may be fueling my unwarranted rage against Brian the Guppie, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes. So yes, it is POSSIBLE that I am being slightly unfair to Brian the Guppie, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes. On the other hand, it is also POSSIBLE that a stampede of flying magenta cows are about to shoot out of my ass.
( You know, I am pretty sure that I Supply has something in his medicine cabinet that could produce that effect. )
Don’t provoke me, I am *this* close to chucking this recap and writing a parody of the Muppet Show with members of Wienerville cast as the Muppets.
“I have Big Shoes to Fill Tonight.”
Got that right. And you know what they say about guys with big shoes? Uh-huh. Big Feet. I wasn’t really paying attention, but I imagine that Brian the Guppy, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes, has really, really tiny feet.
“I’m not gonna swear tonight. Now, I know that that is going to make it difficult for you fans because swearing is the only thing in Laval that you understand. But, it is time that someone brought a sense of class and decorum to the proceedings here at the IWS. And let me tell you, class and decorum will be conspicuously lacking tonight during the main event when The Natural Superstar, Big Steve Royds will face off against PCP Crazy Fucking Manny. I had to say Fucking, it’s his name. These two IWS superstars will face off in this very ring in an exploding barb fucking wire match! That’s the one fuck that you are going to hear from me tonight. It’s in my contract, I have to say fuck at least once tonight. Now that I have said it, it’s over, no more fucking swearing...”
Cue TNT’s music. Oh man, TNT’s curtain-jerking isn’t he?
( Yep. Against a “mystery opponent”. )
Oh man, I can’t hack a TNT match right now. I am out of here. You cover the match.
( WHAT?!? Where are you going? TNT is a perfectly nice guy. He even writes to us. )
THAT right there is the problem. TNT is a perfectly nice guy. He just doesn’t have it in him to be a complete dick, and that means he will never be a great heel. His “mystery opponent” will probably be one of the kids that he is training, and how did he put it, oh yeah, “As far as stretching a rookie goes... all that would do is insult and humiliate someone looking for a chance to get in the action... i don't believe in that...I help train the guys, not help shut them out.” Until he is actually prepared to “insult and humiliate” his opponents and stretch them like a rubber-band, TNT will never be the monster that he could be. You cover this match, I am going to see if Meez will comp me to a free tape if I pimp his tape table enough.
( You BASTARD! Get back here! I do Heel Colour! I don’t do Play-by-Play! CRAP! Maybe if I put down the pen, I can catch him and drag him back. SHIT! TNT Has the mike:
“Fuck You, Retard! You’re all full of fucking shit!
How does shit fuck anyway? Just wondering...
“IWS WAS a Hardcore Promotion. But they got rid of all the guys who were Hardcore. Carl LeDuc, he was hardcore. So what did the IWS do? They got rid of him. Nixon Stratus was hardcore. So what did the IWS do? They fired him. My partner, Heavy Maxx Fury, he was hardcore. So what did the IWS do? They suspended him.”
Commissioner Joe is out, “You’re lucky to have a job. You have some sort of contract that means I have to keep you around. So, you think that you are hardcore? You want some kind of quality hardcore opponent? Like say... the Green Phantom? Well, I could give you a title shot, but I don’t think that I will. You have been disappointing me lately, so I think that your high quality opponent will be a man that I have brought all the way from Mexico, the legendary... El Generico!”
The playing of Spanish music brings out Ruffneck with some thin skinny goof wearing a cape and a mask, with tattoos written on his arm with a magic marker. It’s as if Stevie Richards scrawny younger brother found Tito Santana’s El Matador outfit.
TNT’s back on the mike, “Who the FUCK are you?”
El Generico: “Ole!”
The crowd: “Ole!”
TNT: “Don’t you fucking OLE me!”
Commissioner Joe, “Because of your recent performance lately, you’ve been reduced to a bottom feeder.” Wait, does that mean that TNT is a crustacean? Because they are bottom feeders. Would that make TNT a relative of Gran Naniwa?
The bell rings at 9:43. OLE! Generico removes his cape, “OLE!” and the crowd “OLE!”s him back. TNT and OLE! Generico feel each other out starting off with a collar and elbow lock-up. Every time OLE! Generico gets the slightest upper hand, he “OLE!”s and the “OLE!” response from the crowd keeps building and building until OLE! Generico hits a drop-kick and the crowd goes certifiably NUTS! At which point, TNT visibly loses it, Stan Hansening OLE! Generico inside-out from the center of the ring to the corner, and once OLE! Generico lands, TNT starts choking him with his foot, screaming at him to “OLE! now you son-of-a-bitch!” As the crowd starts getting upset at TNT, Ruffneck tries to convince him to keep it a wrestling match, and TNT goes, “Oh you want to see wrestling?” At which point, TNT starts demonstrating holds beginning with a variety of arm drag take downs and working up to some side head-lock take downs, finishing with OLE! Generico sitting with TNT stretching him in some kind of surfboard maneuver that left TNT with a free hand to slap OLE! Generico up-side the head every time he tried an OLE! chant. Now, the crowd is really PISSED! How dare TNT interfere with their fun? It was their god-given right to chant OLE! and he had no business getting in their way. So when OLE! Generico breaks free and lands a hurri-can-rana, the crowd goes MENTAL! OLE! Generico drives TNT’s head to the buckle, and slides out to throw a chair in the ring. TNT intercepts the chair and opens it, only to eat the seat from an OLE! Generico foot stomp. As a dazed TNT gets to his feet, OLE! Generico hits a springing cross body-block that propels TNT to the outside. OLE! Generico climbs to the top rope and delivers an axe handle to TNT on the outside, following up with a hurri-can-rana. And there is much OLE!ing and celebrating. OLE! Generico gets this just one more move look, but when he springs off the apron to splash TNT, he has gone to the well once too often and misses TNT by a country mile.
TNT rolls OLE! Generico into the ring and grabs the mike, “OLE! I moved ten minutes before you jumped! Get UP! My foot has your ass on it!” OLE! Generico staggers up and TNT takes him down with a VICIOUS SUPLEX! OLE! Generico gets a brief hope spot and tags TNT’s head with his foot rather halfheartedly as though he is afraid of TNT’s reaction, as well he might be be, because TNT hits with a second Suplex and if the first one was VICIOUS, the second one is just BALLS NASTY! The spin-kick to the gut is also not very nice, and the drop-kick is impolite. But the Suplex off the ropes into an Alabama Face Jam is down right RUDE! And it gets One and Two and a kick-out. “This is FUN!” TNT goes up top, but his patent pending Butt Splash gets nothing... but... mat! This gives OLE! Generico an opening. “ole” “OLE!” Drop Kick. “Ole!” “OLE!” Drop-Kick. “OLE!” “OLE!” Shoulder Block. “OLE!” “OLE!” Running double bounce spring Asai Moonsault! Very Impressive, and it gets ONE... TWO... JOHNNY ACE! Well, if two bounces off the side ropes didn’t do it, we’ll just have to bounce twice off the top rope won’t we? Too bad about TNT’s foot meeting OLE! Generico on the way down. TNT just MURDERS OLE! Generico with this Whirly Suplex thing, but this is not enough so rather than covering immediately, TNT rolls outside to get a chair, and the Deux Montagnes mob for the first time EVER is reluctant to hand over a chair because it might be used against OLE! Generico. TNT eventually gets three chairs into the ring and Body Slams OLE! Generico into the chairs. TNT then grabs OLE! Generico and props him on the top rope presumably for a Super-Plex, but when TNT starts climbing the ropes, OLE! Generico blocks him, so TNT is all “Fine, be that way!” and grabs OLE! Generico around the neck and just TWISTS him off the top rope onto the chairs with just his hands! TNT gets this evil gleam into his eye at this point and grabs one of the chairs opening it so that OLE! Generico’s head is stuck in the chair. Ruffneck charges over knowing that this is his cue to talk TNT out of Pillmanizing the neck, but TNT pushes him aside and goes up top.
We all know what happens next, Right? Someone has to run and save the poor rookie because no-one is ever allowed to actually Pillmanize the neck. If Pillmanizing the ankle is supposed to shatter careers, then by extension, Pillmanizing the neck could kill a man! So I kept looking for the run-in as TNT came off the top rope and stomped the chair! I think at this point, my jaw dropped, my pen dropped, my notes dropped, and TNT dropped out of the ring and grabbed the mike, demanding that Ruffneck count him out!
1! I don’t believe that the mother-fucker actually did it!
2! He broke Ole! Generico’s neck!
3! I mean he must have, Right?
4! When Steve Austin did this to Brian Pillman’s ankle...
5! Pillman was out almost six months...
6! Hence the term Pillmanize.
7! But Steve Austin has never been allowed...
8! To do that move to someone’s neck...
9! It’s just too dangerous!
10! I don’t believe that TNT just got counted out!
Let’s see, OLE! Generico WINNER?!? by COUNT-OUT?!? at 9:54 (11:00?) “How does it feel to be a 1 and 0? I can kill people with my bare hands... AND I am not finished yet!” TNT climbs back in with a chair and throws Ruffneck off OLE! Generico so that he can deliver a series of chair thrusts to the throat. OLE! Generico starts twitching so TNT goes back out to the apron with the chair, only to stop and seem to decide that if OLE! Generico is twitching he must still be alive! TNT climbs back in with the chair for more NECK DEATH, which FINALLY brings out Los Latinos. Well, gosh guys, nice of you to come to the defence of your fellow Latin, but maybe you could have come out a little earlier when the poor bastard could still WALK! Los Latinos get in TNT’s face, so he suggests that they should all pray for OLE! Generico’s recovery. Los Latinos, being Grade-A Chumps, agree. TNT kneels with them, crosses himself and then clubs them from behind. He double drop-kicks them from behind and then rolls out of the ring with the mike, “Hey, all 90 pounds of you! Hey you SMURFS! I’ll take all THREE of you fuckers on by myself!” TNT leaves at 9:57 to OLE! chants.
As TNT leaves, senior IWS official Peanut comes charging out of the back. Thank God! Someone who knows what they are doing! Peanut works for Famous Players. He must be up on the latest in life-saving techniques for traumatic neck injury! Peanut hits the ring, studies OLE! Generico and then slaps him hard in the face. HMMM! You know, if I ever need money, remind me to launch a multi-million dollar law-suit against Famous Players. “Yes your Honour, I was at Famous Players in Laval to see the second part of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. As I walked by the candy counter, I slipped on a pool of congealed buttery topping, landing flat on my back. While I was lying there trying to decide if anything was broken, the defendant Famous Player’s employee Peanut came up to me and slapped me. That is when I lost all feeling in my legs, your honour...” In this case, it appears to have worked and Ruffneck assists OLE! Generico to the back.
Well, that was 190 pounds of awesome in a five pound bag. I am not sure what came over TNT, whether he had a bad experience with a Taco once, or whether the crowd pissed him off, or if he just isn’t getting laid enough, or what. I am going to assume that since TNT is a professional, that he intentionally went out there intending to beat the crap out of whomever the IWS put in his path, and I applaud him for it. The normal pattern for rookie vs. veteran matches is for the veteran heel to force the crowd to cheer for the rookie making him a baby-face by default. The veteran’s heat rubbing off on the rookie. In this case, it was as if both wrestler’s built each other’s heat. OLE! Generico got a great goofy reaction from the crowd, and when TNT went ballistic on him, the crowd’s normal “eh - he’s a heel” reaction to TNT turned ugly. By beating the crap out of OLE! Generico, TNT made OLE! into a huge crowd-pleasing face, and turned himself into the monster that Llakor and I never thought that he could be.
There is only one problem with this and that is that if Llakor finds out about this, he is going to take credit. Frankly between the new start time, the improved promos, Camera Girl’s hair and the Highlander’s kilts, I’m worried that if his head swells anymore that I am going to need to find a new place to live. Not that that would be hard, there’s plenty of unused space in I Supply’s forehead for instance. But I just got the furniture arranged the way that I like it and the Feng Shui taken care of properly, besides I would probably get annoyed at the constant funerals in I Supply’s forehead for all the dying brain cells. So, if you could all do me a favour, no one tell Llakor about TNT’s new-found vicious streak. If you feel compelled to mention it, use a code word. If you agree with me that TNT’s vicious streak is of the AWESOME, write “Betty Crocker, and the Red Army General is a whiny bitch.” If you believe that TNT should pay for being cruel to poor OLE! Generico, post, “Fannie Farmer, and I Supply is a big weenie.” That sort of thing. OKAY? Thanks! )
And I’m back?!
( Did you scam any free tapes of Meez? )
NAH! I didn’t even try. I ended up with Ram Hardy behind the DJ booth above the ring, flicking spitballs off the back of the Bride of Lemmy’s head.
( You were with Ram Hardy during the TNT/OLE! Generico match? )
( No reason. It’s just that I could have sworn... Never mind. )
Suit yourself. So what was the result of the match.
( OLE! Generico by count-out. )
Very funny. No, really, what happened?
( Eleven minute match, TNT lost to a count-out to the masked Mexican rookie. )
Uh-Huh. Look, I understand that you’re upset that I left you hanging, but that’s no reason to make stuff up. Just tell me you weren’t paying attention. Count-Out in an IWS match? Never happen! Brian the Guppy, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes is back out, “IWS is such good family entertainment, isn’t it?” He continues to plug his radio show while Los Latinos, who are already in the ring, give him a “time is money, you stupid Anglo” look. Ummm... why are Los Latinos already in the ring?
( They came out to help OLE! Generico from the beat down that TNT was inflicting on OLE! Generico after TNT finished pillmanizing OLE! Generico’s neck. )
WHOA! NELLY! TNT PILLMANIZED his neck!?! So TNT lost by DQ, then?
( No, he lost by count-out. )
That makes no damn sense. Who brought out the stretcher to bring El Generico to the back?
( No stretcher, the two refs helped him to the back. )
DUDE! If you are going to lie about what happened, try to be consistent. If El Generico’s neck was pillmanized there is no way that he would be able to stand afterwards. And that count-out story is just ridiculous.
"Don't Blame CANADA, Blame Yourselves!"
|Promote this thread!|| |
|The Great and Mighty OZ
From: Montreal, Quebec, Canada
Since last post: 2334 days
Last activity: 2334 days
|AIM: || ||#2 Posted on 21.11.02 2153.40 |
|Llakor Broadcast System|
Thursday, November 21st, 2002
LBS#6: IWS - Scarred for Life
Part Two of Three
Hi-5 aka the wrestlers formerly known as the Rougeau trainees make their way out to the ring. Beef Wellington has the mike, “We get no respect in this promotion! We are graduates of the Rougeau wrestling academy. Enough is Enough!”
( It’s time for a change? But they just got new shirts. )
“We found someone to watch our backs. Someone dependable. Someone reliable. Someone we can trust!” The playing of Greek music can only mean the entrance of the Great Malaka with his inflatable Corona beer bottle and his half-empty bottle of Ouzo to do his Triple H imitation.
( HAHAHAHAHA! This rules. Hi-5 should lose ALL of their matches and it should always be Malaka’s fault. )
Malaka hugs Peanut on his way in. There is a quick dispute as to which corner Hi-5 will take as Beef decides that he wants the corner that Los Latinos have already staked out.
( I’m not sure why they are arguing about it. Neither of these teams spends a lot of time waiting for the tag. )
Bell rings at 10:02. We start with Beef and Latino Kid. They pose off and Beef is SHOCKED that Latino Kid gets a better reaction than he does. They lock up and Beef shows his speed by going behind Latino Kid and getting him into a wheelbarrow position, but Latino Kid counters it into a take down, and Beef decided to tag his partner in. Latino Mysterio also comes in and he tries some to lay in some Latino legs on Kamikaze Kids head, but Kamikaze Kid is too wily to be caught that way, and for the slow learners in the audience...
( i.e. the entire Two Mountains Mob. )
Kamikaze Kid points to his head, to let us know that he is THAT DAMN SMART, yo, but while he is providing this important public service message, Latino Mysterio in a blatant demonstration of the lack of Sportsmanship that can only be found in the Latin Americas, jumps Kamikaze Kid and hits the hurri-can-rana. Kamikaze Kid bounces back to his feet showing the resiliency of a true athlete, only to be taken down right away with some Latin whirly-gig take down nonsense that is clearly an illegal move not recognized by the rules of wrestling. Kamikaze Kid, refusing to be cowed by all this outrageous cheating, struggles to his knees only to eat a spin-kick to the face, and then Latino Mysterio kicks him in the back of the head. At which point, Latino Kid illegally enters the ring and DDT’s Kamikaze Kid and both Los Latinos cover.
( Hey PEANUT! How about enforcing some of the rules here! )
Beef, disgusted at all this blatant cheating comes charging into the ring. Sadly, Beef, blinded by rage ends up hitting his partner when Los Latinos scatter like cowards. “No! No!” cries Beef horrified, and Los Latinos take advantage of his discomposure to shove him back down onto his partner in a most undignified position.
The Westmount boys regroup, and after checking to make sure that his partner is okay, Beef Wellington marches to confront Latin Mysterio who grabs Beef’s hand and sprints up the rope to walk the ropes like the Undertaker and take Beef down to the mat. Beef tries to handspring back to his feet, but Latin Mysterio abandons all pretensions of fair play as he penalty kicks Beef right in the...
( OH MERCY! What will become of little Rico? )
Beef rolls up in a fetal position and gets drop-kicked down by Latin Mysterio, who scrambles back up, climbs the top rope and drops the knee right back on the...
( Oh MAN! The ladies of Westmount are going to have ISSUES with these Latin punks! What is this? WCW Uncensored? Were these guys trained by Precious Lucy or something? )
Kamikaze Kid runs in to save his partner and gets drop toe holded so that he head-butts his partner right in the...
( I’m not sure, but I think that Los Latinos have picked a body part. )
Beef struggles up clutching his mid-section and Latin Mysterio encouraged by the crowd does a ten-count head-butt on Beef, at the end of which he lets Beef go, and Beef collapses to the canvas in the process head-butting his partner right back in the...
( I think that the vast enjoyment that the Two Mountains Mob is taking in this entire exercise is indicative of the deeply closeted nature of Deux Montagnes. )
Kamikaze Kid bravely takes over for his partner, and is able to use his superior wrestling abilities to leverage Latin Mysterio into an Alabama Face Jam. He then crosses to tag in his partner inadvertently steeping on the downed Latino process. Beef drops the leg, and Kamikaze Kid crosses back over to the other side of the limp Latino inadvertently stepping on the masked man in the process.
( Latino Mysterio should really be more careful where he collapses. That’s twice that Kamikaze could have tripped and cracked a nail. Westmount manicures aren’t cheap you know. )
In a perfectly legal maneuver, Beef power bombs his partner on Latino Mysterio before the five second window after the tag expires. Beef, yells at the crowd, “Who wants to see the Latino get hurt?” because Beef is all about giving the fans what they want. Beef, in a demonstration of his superior strength and conditioning, lifts Latino Mysterio onto his shoulders for a Luger Torture Rack and then plants Latino Mysterio with an Alabama Face Jam. Beef quickly tags, demonstrating the smooth partnership of Hi-5. Kamikaze Kid enters, but falls prey to his all-too human compassion for his opponent, and he eats a spin-kick to the face for his pains. Latino Mysterio dives and tags in his partner, Latino Kid.
( COWARD! Get back in there like a man, you lousy runt! Why do you think that he wears a mask anyway? He is probably a wanted criminal back in Peru, taking advantage of our compassionate Canadian Immigration system. )
Latino Kid spin kicks Kamikaze Kid to the face, for one and two and Beef saves his partner. Kamikaze Kid takes advantage of his partner’s brilliant teamwork to muscle Latino Kid over in a suplex which gets one and two and blatantly illegal interference by Latino Mysterio stops the count.
( The match should be OVER! )
Beef, incensed by this typically Latin disregard for the rules, power bombs Latino Mysterio. Beef stops to acknowledge his many fans and pose for their pictures like the true wrestling superstar that he is, and gets blind sided by a Latino Kid clothesline. Meanwhile, Kamikaze Kid has rolled out to consult with the Great Malaka over strategy.
( Why on earth would they ask Malaka for help on anything more than the right brand of Ouzo to buy? )
I hear that his tzaziki recipe is pretty good. Latino Kid, recklessly disregarding the safety of his fellow wrestlers, charges and TOPE CON HILO! taking out Malaka and Kamikaze Kid. Latino Mysterio, being all “Monkey See, Monkey Do” climbs to the top ropes and takes everyone out with a backwards twisty corkscrew Plancha thingy. Beef climbs up top and does Los Latinos one better by flattening everyone BUT HIS PARTNER!
( YES! Beef, the INTELLIGENT SUPERSTAR! )
All four competitors climb up to the apron, and after some pushing and shoving by an increasingly desperate Los Latinos team, all four men fall back to the outside. Malaka rolls all four men into the ring and four men are dead. Peanut begins a ten count and Malaka interrupts to pass on his tzaziki recipe.
( My God. Malaka is good for something. Inform the press! )
I think that’s us. Latino Mysterio is the first man up. He crosses to Beef and executes an astonishing standing twisty moonsault thingy that hits NOTHING... BUT... MAT! as Beef was playing possum! Beef lures Latino Mysterio in and lets him start his hurri-cane-rana before countering it and holding on so his partner, Kamikaze Kid can kick Latino Mysterio in the face, and Beef can plant him face-first. Beef covers for One and Two and more blatant interference by Latino Kid stops the count! In the process, Los Latinos show blatant disregard for their competitors as Kamikaze Kid is knocked over and lands on the back of his head.
( I say it again, this match should be OVER! )
Latino Kid begins some Latin kickery which misses by a country mile, including a fame-asser on Beef that is just UGLY. Latino Mysterio is up and takes advantage of the injured Kamikaze Kid to land his standing moonsault and he covers for One and Two and NO! What courage by the Westmount native.
( Truly, he is an example to us all. )
Latino Mysterio and Latino Kid both climb, and in yet another example of the blatant disregard for the rules that has marred this entire match attempt to double-team Beef Wellington with simultaneous drop-kicks. But Beef is too crafty for the Peruvian pair and he meets Latino Kid on the way down with his own drop-kick to the chest. Kamikaze Kid, who should really be seeking medical attention, staggers bravely to his feet on the ring apron only to be ambushed by Latino Mysterio who hurri-cane-rana’s him to the outside. Turning to Beef Wellington, Latino Mysterio tries to Pearl Harbour him as well, but Beef is able to use his superior wrestling technique and physical conditioning to counter the hurri-cane-rana, but before he can take advantage of his helpless foe, Latino Kid from the top kicks Beef in the chest and then helps his partner roll-up Beef. It takes both men to hold Beef down and despite this obvious cheating Peanut counts ONE and TWO and THREE! for the pin and the win by Los Latinos at 10:21 (19:00?).
( NOOOO!! Where in the hell was the Great Malaka? )
Beef, in a show of that sportsmanship that marks him as a truly great competitor, offers his hand as a taken of his respect for his fellow wrestlers, even pin swindlers like these. Beef holds up the hands of Los Latinos for the cheers of the Two Mountains Mob as the Great Malaka finally runs into the ring to prevent the pin on Beef.
( About time you got here! )
In the process of running in, the blind drunk Malaka wipes out Los Latinos. Kamikaze Kid, still smarting over his head injury, comes into the ring with a chair and hits Latino Mysterio with rather a WEAK chair shot really, and I can only conclude that Kamikaze Kid’s injury has sapped his strength. But he rallies nicely to plant Latino Kid with the chair, so thankfully it appears that Kamikaze Kid will make a full recovery. The Westmount crew gather five chairs, assembling two chairs to face two other chairs in a square with the fifth chair acting as a bridge over the four chairs. Beef Wellington cries, “I want the little one” and seizing Latino Mysterio, imparts an valuable lesson on the importance of abiding by the rules in a sporting contest, by performing a sort of upside-down Bubba Bomb putting Latino Mysterio through the chairs.
( And it serves the little rotter right! I hope that he learned his lesson. )
And I think that we should all praise Beef for his willingness to take the time to deliver this kind of public service message to the underprivileged.
( INDEED! Bravo Beef Bravo! )
TNT is out with a mike, “Los Latinos, next month, I’ll break your mother-fucking neck. Come on and get up! You two have got another month to live. Eat your tequila worms! See your putas! Because you’ve got THIRTY DAYS!”
What the devil was that about?
( After TNT lost by count-out to OLE! Generico he challenged Los Latinos to a handicap match at UnFuckingSanctioned. )
Ah. That all makes perfect sense except for the fact that TNT obviously did not lose by count out. I mean: did you see him? He was in a very good mood, for him anyway. If he had LOST his match, he would have been in a really FOUL mood, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.
I feel compelled to point out, by the way, that the Hi-5 vs. Los Latinos match was a lot of fun and did a great job of telling a story, it was also extremely sloppy in places, and featured kicks that missed by a country mile that were sold like death.
( I blame Los Latinos. )
Now, THAT is not very fair. Granted that we have seen Hi-5 work very good programs, it could very well be that the difficulty was two teams unfamiliar with one another and the match just didn’t jell. We tend to forget when watching the (W)WWF guys perform that they have the advantage of working house shows together before trotting out a program at a PPV. sometimes for indy guys, the first time that they are actually in the ring together is in front of the fans. Now, that does not mean that you ignore it when mistakes are made, but my philosophy is to be more forgiving when you see them.
( Point taken. I STILL blame Los Latinos.)
The screen comes down at 10:21. “UnFuckingSanctioned. HE’s coming to the IWS. A master of ULTRA-VIOLENCE! HE’s a One man International Wrecking Crew! August 17th. LOBO!”
Honestly, Lobo rings a bell somewhere, but I don’t think somehow that it is the sort of name that will get me excited. On the other hand, it’s not like anyone is going to bring Super Dragon to Montreal just to please lil’ ol’ me. I guess I’ll have to ask joeedgery, my online CZW authority, who Lobo is.
OH! JOY! BLISS! Why look who’s in the ring. Could that possibly be Brian the Guppie, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes? How nice of him to mix with the common folk. You know, I hear he has a radio show called Between the Ropes on Team 990. “UnFuckingSanctioned. Had to swear, it’s the name of the show. The main event again this year: the fans bring the weapons, which means that you guys bring the weapons for the main event. Have you had a chance to check out the tape table? Some good stuff over there. Coming now to the ring, weighing in at 165 pounds, ARSENAL!!
( You know if someone announced Arsenal as the sickest bastard in Chomedey, I would mark like a little bitch. )
Ruffneck at ringside, and entering the ring is... well, not Arsenal, unless Arsenal has been to Brazil and back in the last two weeks. Whoever it is grabs the mike to deliver what my notes record as THE WORST PROMO EVER, “Arsenal, you call yourself hardcore, little man? You think that beating up a woman is going to make you look like a real man? Well, I’ve got news for you little man, the most hardcore person in this promotion is me. You want to see hardcore? I’ll show you hardcore!” At which point, she flashes her, frankly, breath-taking chest complete with pierced nipples.
( Not to nit-pick, but in my universe going topless only qualifies as soft-core, not hard-core. )
As transcribed, that promo doesn’t look too bad, but believe me it was painful to sit through, and I have to confess that I did not take notes of what she actually said, so my recollection of the gist of the promo months afterwards probably makes the promo sound more coherent than it was. I was still trying to figure out who it was, and I turned to I Supply for help...
( I can’t believe that you didn’t recognize her! )
I Supply, who can’t remember a conversation thirty seconds after the words are out of his mouth, nonetheless has a photographic recollection for breasts, and he immediately identified Elsa Bangs with the mike.
( I can’t believe that you didn’t recognize her! )
YES! All right, I don’t know why I didn’t recognize her either. I’m not a breast man, all right. I prefer legs.
( Are you saying that Elsa doesn’t have nice legs? )
Actually, she has outstanding legs, and in fact there is a metaphor to be made comparing her breasts to a piece of Italian Renaissance artwork, but I think that I’ll save it for my Know Your Enemies recap.
( WHAT?! You mean that I am going to spend the rest of the night thinking about Italian artwork juxtaposed with Elsa’s breasts? )
There are worse things to be thinking about.
( POINT. Hey! Arsenal is in the ring and he don’t look happy. )
“WHO the FUCK do YOU think YOU are?” No, I guess he’s not happy. Arsenal goes for an elbow strike on Elsa, and misses by about a yard. Elsa, to her credit, rather than selling the whiff, chooses to laugh at Arsenal instead, adding a certain amount of verisimilitude to the proceedings. Arsenal hits with his second elbow strike and knocks her out of the ring. “Get the FUCK out of MY ring! DJ, play my music again, cause I am getting the entrance that I deserve.” “His opponent at 133 pounds, Precious Lucy.” Lucy does not wait for entrances at all, tackling Arsenal on a full run. She quickly suplexes him, and then clotheslines him as he staggers to his feet. She maneuvers Arsenal for a Gorilla Press Slam which Arsenal blocks, so she Gorilla Press Slams him to the outside instead. Lucy climbs up top, jumps to the outside and wipes out both Arsenal and Skeletor. Lucy grabs a chair as practically the entire Two Mountains Mob falls all over themselves to offer their chairs to her.
( Now, see, don’t be fooled. You would think that they were being polite to a lady. Truth is most of Two Mountains have all the table manners and sense of etiquette of a rutting goat. BUT, they all hate Arsenal. WHY? One word: JEALOUSY! They know that in their entire lives, they will never have one thimble of the talent or the success that Arsenal has. That’s why they were so eager to give Lucy chairs. )
Well, said. But, I thought you were in love with Lucy?
( I am, and sadly for Arsenal, she’s going to kick his ass. )
Lucy chair shots Arsenal to the back and then to the head. She rolls him into the ring and gets in herself after sliding in three chairs, taking just a little bit too long to do so because Arsenal grabs one of the chairs and dents it on Lucy’s skull. Arsenal decides he wants to go home early and PILE DRIVES LUCY on to the chair which Lucy gives an All-world old school twitch sell to.
( OH GOD NO! Lucy! Did the bad man hurt you? )
Arsenal has covered the twitching Lucy for one and two and no. Arsenal body slams Lucy, and then climbs up top to drop the leg, and cover for One and Two and No! Arsenal sets up four chairs in a square with two chairs facing two chairs. Arsenal drags Precious Lucy up top, and threatens to suplex her off...
( A superplex onto four chairs? NO! He’ll kill her! )
But Lucy blocks the suplex and then folds up Arsenal with a low-blow. She straightens him back up with a knife-edged chop, and then Lucy-can-rana’s him from the top onto the chairs. Arsenal can actually still move after that, so Lucy picks him up and power bombs him onto the chairs. OUCH! OUCH! OUCH! Lucy drags Arsenal over to the ropes to place him in the Tree of Woe, and places a chair over his face. She backs up to get a running start and delivers the stiffest baseball slide since Pete Rose ended Ray Fosse’s career during an All-Star game. And Arsenal has hit a GUSHER!
( Come ‘n listen to my story ‘bout a woman name of Luce
Poor Lady Rassler that Ontario said shouldn’t juice
An’ then one day, she was shootin’ on some fool,
An’ up thru his forehead came a bubblin’ pool.
Blood that is! Crimson Masks! Muta One Point OH! Red gold!
Well, the first thing ya know, Lucy’s a grappler extraordinaire
Kin-folk said, "Lucy, move away from here."
Said the WWE is the place y’oughta be,
so she loaded up her truck, and she moved to Stamford CT.
Connecticut that is! Mean Street Posse! McMahons! Superstars!
Precious Lucy bought a doublewide painted all in red.
Her Next door neighbor was pres’dent of the fed,
Lotsa folks objected, but Linda found no fault,
'Cause Precious Lucy’s rasslin’ was filling up her vault
Cash, that is! Buyrates! Ratings! Greenbacks! American money!
Well now it’s time to say goodbye to Lucy and all her kin
An’ she would like to thank you folks fer kindly droppin’ in.
You’re all invited back again to this locality,
T’have a heapin’ helpin’ of her hospitality.
Kitaine-style, that is! Set a spell, Take your shoes off!
Y’all come back, here! )
Arsenal rolls outside with Precious Lucy in hot pursuit. Lucy has a chair and delivers rather a weak chair-shot, so on the follow-up she really follows through and WHACK! bits of the chair, and I think bits of Arsenal, go flying in all directions. Lucy tries to roll Arsenal in for the cover, but Arsenal blocks the roll-in. Lucy decides to Irish-Whip him into one of the tall metal speaker stands adjacent to the ring instead, but Arsenal blocks it and REVERSES! Lucy rams right into the speaker stand, and then drops like a rock. Arsenal and Skeletor stomp a Precious Lucy mud hole and walk it dry. Arsenal slides a table into the ring and goes up top to splash Lucy, but she has been playing possum and Arsenal eats a chair on the way down. Lucy rolls Arsenal into the ring, and Lucy is bleeding now as well. She body-slams Arsenal and drops the leg on him. Arsenal, who seems to be operating on some primitive wrestling instinct, struggles to his feet to avoid a pinning predicament, and he is gushing like a mother-fucker.
( Once again, Arsenal is the sickest bastard in Chomedey. )
Yeah. I’ll admit that when I first started surfing the web, I hadn’t the foggiest clue what the “Muta scale” was. I assumed that it was a reference to the Great Muta’s red spray, and that a Muta 1.0 was when someone looked like they had gotten a full face of the red mist, leaving their face looking like they were wearing a crimson mask. As it happens, the scale refers to Muta’s famous match against Hase. joedgery suggests that it was the 12/14/1992 match, although there were a couple of matches from that time period where Muta finished the match looking like he had just crashed through a windshield. Not, I would hasten to add, that I would know that from having seen those matches, because I haven’t. Neither, have I seen the Santo/La Parka 2001 match which is the other match mentioned when discussions of the gorier outer limits of the Muta scale start up.
( But, hey if anyone wants to send me tape, I’ll be happy to watch. Llakor’s stoumach is a little queasy, but I have no problems in that area. )
I mention all of this because Arsenal was acting as though the purpose of the match was to see who could shed the most blood, and in that category he was definitely winning. So much so, that despite the fact that Lucy was cut open as well, it was hard to tell, because Lucy had more of Arsenal’s blood on her than she did her own blood. Arsenal wasn’t just bleeding more than Lucy, he was dripping more blood onto Lucy, than Lucy could bleed on her own.
( That boy’s not right, I tell you. He is just a little too competitive for his own good. Want Proof? The truly frightening thing is that I think that that picture was taken before Arsenal really started gushing. )
I’m nor certain about that. God knows at various points in the match Arsenal looked WORSE than in that photo, but I think that the photo itself is from near the end of the match. Lucy body slams Arsenal onto some chairs, and Skeletor interferes, but Lucy just brushes him aside and uses a chair to make a leg drop that much more vicious. Lucy gets the table set up, and Arsenal astonishingly recovers enough to ambush Lucy and throw her up into a fireman carry. There is a certain amount of struggling as Lucy’s vinyl outfit and ALL THAT BLOOD make it a little tricky for Arsenal to maneuver her around, but he manages to do so and suplex her through the table. Skeletor comes in briefly to motivate Arsenal and trash-talk Lucy as she twitches. Arsenal picks up Lucy and hoists her onto his shoulder to drop her on a chair. He picks her up again because ONCE IS JUST NOT ENOUGH!
( This match is no longer about winning and losing. It is about SURVIVING and PUNISHING your opponent. )
Speaking of punishing, Elsa is back and she has a chair. Elsa SMOKES Arsenal in the back, and Lucy takes advantage to do a wacky roll-up thing for ONE! and TWO! and THREE! and the win at 10:40 (15:00?)
( Unbelievably, after this match, Arsenal got a lot of flak for “losing to a girl” MORONS! Precious Lucy could take on the entire first row of the Two Mountains Mob and send them home crying to their mothers without even breaking a sweat. The fact that Arsenal pushed her to the limit that he did just shows how great a wrestler he really is. )
Yep. Plus Arsenal has already demonstrated that he can tell a psychologically compelling story with Onyx. With Lucy he proved that he can wrestle as gory a bloodbath as I have ever seen. Truly, Arsenal can do it all.
Meanwhile, there is blood all over the ring. The Broom Boys are in sweeping up the blood. Now, I don’t want to make hasty judgments about how much blood is too much blood to spill in a wrestling match, but if you can sweep the blood up afterwards with a broom, that is TOO MUCH BLOOD!
Before I forget, Elsa was wearing a white bandana, a white top with a black bra, white trunks and white boots. Lucy was wearing a very fetching ensemble of a black and red vinyl sports bra coupled with black and red trunks with a barb-wire design on them.
( I hope Lucy will be OK. She looked dazed after that match. )
First of all, I think that you should be saving your concern for Arsenal. Second of all, you do realize that Lucy already has a boyfriend.
( How do we know that? )
She said so on the IWS message board.
( CRAP! How do we know that this isn’t some imaginary boyfriend that Lucy invented to scare off psycho fans who profess their love for her without ever having actually met her? )
Well, Lucy is a baby-face, and if wrestling teaches us nothing, it is that baby faces always tell the truth.
( That is such GREAT news. I am so happy. Nothing can keep Lucy and I apart now. )
How do you figure?
( Well, I am a figment of your imagination. Surely, Lucy’s REAL boyfriend couldn’t possibly be jealous if she had an IMAGINARY boyfriend on the side. I was concerned that her boyfriend was imaginary, and that would have posed an insurmountable obstacle. )
Because the imaginary boyfriend would have been able to beat you up?
( RIGHT! Plus, a woman with an imaginary boyfriend would have to be crazy. I mean, can you imagine having conversations with someone that doesn’t exist? Anyone who did that would be certifiably NUTS. And unlike you, I am not attracted to insanity. )
ARRRGHH! This can’t possibly end well.
From: Montreal, Quebec, CANADA
Since last post: 240 days
Last activity: 232 days
|AIM: || ||#3 Posted on 21.11.02 2157.58 |
|Llakor Broadcast System|
Thursday, November 21st, 2002
LBS#6: IWS - Scarred for Life
Part Three of Three
Back in the ring, it is none other than Brian the Guppie, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes with the mike, “This next match is for the IWS heavyweight title. The special referee, weighing in at 195 pounds with an extra five pounds below the waist, the Tournament of Icons champion, the Sexxx Exxxpress, Sexxxy Eddy! Waving his astonishingly still intact trophy, Eddy grabs the mike, “I am glad to be standing back in this ring. The Tournament of Icons winner was supposed to get a title shot at the Fringe festival, but I was injured at Tournament of the Icons. So they gave my title shot to Arsenal and he blew it!
( Well, that’s revisionist history for you. I seem to recall Precious Lucy having a little something to do with the Green Phantom being able to retain. )
“I wanted to be the special referee tonight, so that I could be sure that No one ambushes the Green Phantom. I want that title safely around his waist, ready for me to take it back, when I am all healed up. I am not used to wearing this penguin outfit. I need a volunteer from the audience. One female volunteer to maybe come in the ring and take off my clothes. Anyone woman enough to get between the ropes so that I can get between her legs?” A dark-haired volunteer steps forward wearing glasses, a black top, low-rise blue jeans and sandals. “Be gentle, I am injured. Stand still!” Eddy and his no-doubt planted volunteer perform Eddy’s usual striptease, although his Edge ring-humping on top the volunteer is performed a trifle gingerly. Eddy is wearing Zebra bikini briefs tonight.
Green Phantom is out, and he has the mike, “I’m here to issue an open challenge for this title. My reign as champion has been short, but it has been hard. I have pinned pretty much everyone in the IWS, including YOU, pretty boy. First person through those doors gets a title shot.” From the doorway emerges, Ca$$ino?
( Oh GREAT. Marvy. Peachy Keen. It’s Vinnie Vega$ with his brother Vic. )
“It’s a hardcore world. Are you prepared to bleed? Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a champion from another federation. You’re a good guy, I think you’re funny. I’m a good guy. You want to go mano a mano?” They hug.
( That is so cute. I TINK I’M GONNA FWOW UP! )
They start with Ca$$ino fucking up a spring kick. He follows up with a knee to phantom’s gut, and then misses a spin kick. At which point, Phantom stops all the screwing around and BOOTS Ca$$ino right in the face, and lather, rinse and repeat. Phantom drops the elbow for one and and two and and no. Phantom Scoop and Slam and Green Phantom drops the leg, and lather, rinse and re- no the second leg drop misses. Ca$$ino kicks Phantom in the face, and follows up with a suplex. Ca$$ino climbs to the second rope and drops the leg for one and and two and and no.
( It should be noted that Eddy is counting in a very deliberate fashion. He has also been slightly out of position to start each count. Now for a normal referee, that would SUCK, but as I understand Llakor logic being lousy at the job is essential to being a proper guest referee. )
PRECISELY. Phantom grabs Ca$$ino and lowers the boom on him, pile driving him into the mat and covering for One and and Two and and No! The Two Mountains Wooden Sign of Death makes its appearance in the ring.
( Vic Vega$ makes his presence known by getting in Phantom’s face, so the Green Phantom just throws a chair at him. HAHAHA! That rules. )
Ca$$ino’s partner retreats rubbing his wrist, but the distraction has given Ca$$ino time to recover, and climb up top. Green Phantom throws ANOTHER chair at Ca$$ino, stunning him, giving Green Phantom time to drag him off the ropes over the Phantom’s shoulder for a Phantom Bomb onto the Two Mountains Wooden Sign of Death.
( The sign sells! OH! MY! GOD! The sign sells! It has been BY! GOD! BROKEN! IN! HALF! )
The Green Phantom Arrogant Cover, which never works, and Eddy refuses to count, because of course THAT COVER NEVER WORKS! Green Phantom doesn’t see it that way, naturally, and he gets right into Sexxxy Eddy’s face about it. This gives Ca$$ino time to recover, grab a chair, and he just SMOKES Green Phantom with the chair. Phantom drops like a rock, so Ca$$ino places the chair across his face and drops the elbow. Phantom grabs one of the halves of the Two Mountains Wooden Sign of Death and smokes Ca$$ino with it. The Two Mountains Mob yells out wrestling advice to their hero, “Hit with the Elbow Drop!” Phantom makes a “sure, whatever you say” gesture, distracting him enough for Ca$$ino to smoke Green Phantom with a spin kick to the face. Ca$$ino does his own variation of the Arrogant Cover, but Phantom pulls Ca$$ino down and rolls him up. Eddy counts ONE! and and TWO! and he gets dragged out of the ring by Ca$$ino’s partner. Green Phantom Scoops and Slams Ca$$ino as Eddy climbs back into the ring and counts ONE! and and TWO! and and JOHNNY ACE! Phantom shoves Eddy, and Eddy kicks him back, yelling, “I’m sick of this shit!”
( Meanwhile, Vic Vega$ appears to have assembled a table at the outside of the ring. )
Ca$$ino and his partner double-team Green Phantom and throw him onto the table at the outside, which does not break! Ca$$ino’s partner rolls out of the ring to maneuver the Phantom into position on the table, as Ca$$ino goes up top and his splash onto the Phantom DOES break the table. Ca$$ino brings a table in the ring and starts setting it up while his partner stomps a Phantom mud hole and walks it dry. Phantom recovers and is all PHANTOM SMASH! about it as he hurls bits of the broken table at Ca$$ino in the ring and Ca$$ino’s partner outside of the ring.
( Vic Vega$ calls for a time out. HA! I don’t think so. )
Phantom charges into the ring and grabs Ca$$ino for an absolutely VICIOUS body slam. Sensing disaster, Ca$$ino’s partner attacks and Green Phantom throws a chair at him. This gives Ca$$ino an opportunity to hit Green Phantom with an extremely tentative chair shot. When Green Phantom furiously swings around, Ca$$ino throws the chair at him, and when Phantom catches it, Ca$$ino drop kicks the chair and Phantom, who staggers, but Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down! Ca$$ino climbs up top for a flying clothes line. Phantom totters, but recovers to suplex Ca$$ino onto a chair, followed by a back breaker onto his knee. Phantom is busy choking Ca$$ino over his knee, when Eddy breaks it up. Phantom has words with Eddy over his interpretation of the rules, giving Ca$$ino a chance to recover and suplex Phantom over. Ca$$ino climbs to the top, and lands a BIG SPLASH from the top. Phantom scrambles back to his feet as Ca$$ino charges him. Phantom reacts in time to launch Ca$$ino for a HUGE Back Body Drop that nearly levels Sexxxy Eddy.
( Because Guest Referees are never in the right place? )
EXACTLY! Ca$$ino’s partner has snuck into the ring and he kicks Green Phantom in the face. Ca$$ino and his partner combine for an extraordinarily complicated, secret society handshake “COOL” double elbow drop.
( I HATE that move. )
Ca$$ino goes up top for a springing, twisting moonsault thingy that gets NOTHING... BUT... MAT! Phantom bum rushes Ca$$ino’s partner out of the ring, body slams Ca$$ino into the table set up in a corner and then covers for ONE! and and TWO! and and THREE! and Green Phantom retains at 11:07.
( Llakor forgot to mark when the match started, so we are not sure how long the match lasted. )
I am not a huge phan of the GGGRRRReen PHANTOM SMASH! and the match suffered from having three faces in it, but I do admire Sexxxy’s Eddy’s ability to completely screw up the officiating.
Nursey is in to perform CPR on Ca$$ino. His partner objects, pointing out that sitting on Ca$$ino’s face is maybe not the best technique for performing live-saving techniques. Nursey SNAPS calling the IWS wrestlers “ungrateful whiners” and she throws her heels, hat and coat at Ca$$ino and his partner leaving her in red bra and panties. She stalks off, as Ca$$ino is busy giving his partner a “You MORON” glare.
Brian the Guppie, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes with the mike, “This next match is an IWS tag-team title match. Coming to the ring, the challengers, the Highlanders.” The Highlanders music plays and Angus comes out, but no Pat. Angus grabs the mike, “MY partner Pat is at home! Raise your glasses, because Pat just had a wee little highlander! Raise your glasses high, because they called him Angus! Tonight, I will face the NINJAZ~ alone, but for Pat and for wee Angus, I will fight for the clans and God willing leave with the tag-team title belt!” Out to rebut are Iceberg and FOD! They pearl harbour Angus finishing with Iceberg pillmanizing the leg. As Angus is helped to the back, FOD grabs the mike from where Angus dropped it, “We were SCREWED at Tournament of the Icons! NINJAZ~ we are going to send you home on a banana boat BITCH!”
( How many times do the NINJAZ~ have to beat these chumps before they figure out that it is just not gonna happen? )
NINJA~ music plays but the NINJAZ~ don’t come out. Iceberg and FOD get themselves braced for a NINJA~ rush from the wrestler entrance, so naturally, the NINJAZ~ charge through the Two Mountains Mob and attack Iceberg and FOD from behind with chairs. The bell rings at 11:22.
( MAN! Iceberg and FOD are sooooooo STOOPID! )
Hardcore NINJA~#1 climbs up top and wipes out Iceberg and FOD! The Yellow NINJA~ climbs up top and wipes out Iceberg and FOD! Iceberg and FOD divide to conquer with Iceberg taking the Yellow NINJA~ and FOD taking Hardcore NINJA~#1. There is much stomping and swinging of chairs and all four men spill to the outside, and back in again. Very much in control, Iceberg and FOD switch targets. The NINJAZ~ rally briefly and get beat down again and FOD hauls Hardcore NINJA~#1 to the outside. Iceberg turns his attention to the Yellow NINJA~ who manages to push himself off and spin kick Iceberg. On the outside, Hardcore NINJA~#1 has managed to score a chair and is battering FOD repeatedly.
( Action everywhere! Don’t know where to look next! BRAIN FREEZE! )
Iceberg body slams the Yellow NINJA~. Hardcore NINJA~#1 charges back into the ring to save his partner but gets caught and choke slammed by Iceberg. FOD climbs back into the ring and combines with Iceberg to High Time Yellow NINJA~! They grab Hardcore NINJA~#1 and double team Alabama Face Jam him. FOD grabs the Yellow NINJA~ and holds him over his knee so that Iceberg can drop the leg on him. Iceberg picks up the Yellow NINJA~ and drops him on his head onto a chair, and shouldn’t you be panicking right about now?
( NOPE. I have faith in the NINJAZ~. They have Iceberg and FOD right where they want them. )
What, getting the shit kicked out of them? Speaking of that, FOD has a glass light tube and a Two Mountains Wooden Sign of Death, and he is just MURDERING Hardcore NINJA~#1 with them. Hardcore NINJA~#1 is all cut up. As he does the spinning watusi, his partner the Yellow NINJA~ recovers enough to counter Iceberg into a Tornado NINJA~DDT. FOD rolls Hardcore NINJA~#1 into the ring, but takes too long following up, and Hardcore NINJA~#1 hits his NINJA~can-rana setting up FOD for the Yellow NINJA~ to climb to the top and drop a Randy Savage Flying Elbow. On the outside, Iceberg is setting up tables and sprinkling some liquid on them.
( What in the BLUE HELL is Curly up to? )
Iceberg enters the ring and annihilates Hardcore NINJA~#1 with a Death Valley Driver. Meanwhile Peanut has lit the table on fire? What the heck is going on? Iceberg nearly sends Hardcore NINJA~#1 through the table and the crowd panics, as someone FINALLY tells me that this is a burning tables match. Hardcore NINJA~#1 counters Iceberg and while he is stuck on the apron, the Yellow NINJA~ cannonballs into him leaving Iceberg tottering on the brink. FOD, sensing disaster, grabs his Soviet flag and uses it to douse the flames on the table.
( So, if I understand the rules correctly, to win you have to put your opponents THROUGH a BURNING table. Man, tough sport. )
Tell me about it. Meanwhile, FOD has taken the two tables and placed them one on top of another. He then grabs Hardcore NINJA~#1 and punks him out and throws him on top of the upper table. Grabbing the lighter fluid, FOD pours damn near the entire bottle on the bottom table and WHOOSH!
( That is DAMN impressive. )
Iceberg has grabbed the Yellow NINJA~ and he drops him onto his partner and through the top table and into the burning table...
( which collapses, but DOES NOT BREAK!! )
So the NINJAZ~ haven’t been eliminated, RIGHT?! I mean they are supposed to go through a burning table. They went through a table, but it wasn’t on fire. The table that was on fire collapsed, but it NEVER BROKE! Why is the bell ringing?
( Why is Peanut holding up Iceberg and FOD’s hands? NOOOOOO!! PEANUT! YOU BASTARD! )
Who does he think he is, Danny Davis?
The NINJAZ~ are in the ring to hand over their titles at 11:28 (6:00?) Guys, this is no time to act like good sports. You just got royally screwed. Go to the instant replay! Guys, don’t hand over the belts like CHUMPS!
( Too late. Man, I don’t believe that we managed to recap the NINJAZ~ losing the title and we haven’t even recapped them winning it yet. )
I KNOW. Just to rub it in, Iceberg and FOD batter the NINJAZ~ senseless. While Iceberg commits NINJA~battery via multiple choke slams, FOD builds a chair pyramid outside, and then comes back into the ring and props a table in the corner. Hardcore NINJA~#1 gets choke slammed out of the ring and into the chair pyramid. Yellow NINJA~ eats the table in the corner. The NINJAZ~ are DEAD, and Iceberg and FOD are violating their remains with multiple chair shots.
( This whole thing just makes me SICK. )
DITTO. Iceberg and FOD have the lighter fluid and they are sprinkling it on the NINJAZ~, and that I think is quite enough!
( SOMEBODY DO SOMETHING! )
It’s ANGUS! ANGUS with a chair! He’s limping but he’s has BY! GOD! saved the NINJAZ~ from being burned alive.
( I never thought that I would be so happy to see a man wearing his mother’s Christmas table cloth. )
AMEN BROTHA! Angus chases off FOD, but Iceberg loops back to get a few more shots in on the NINJAZ~ and Angus has to come back to chase him off.
( I hate to get personal here, but Iceberg and FOD are world-class ASHOLES! Enjoy the titles while you can still walk, MOTHER-FUCKERS, because the NINJAZ~ are going to FUCK YOU UP!! )
None of this is made any easier by all the gloating from the Red Army next to us.
( BASTARDS! )
At 11:32, the screen comes down again. “It began with the rise of an Ego. And turned into something fierce. It peaked at Tournament of Icons 3.” We see a clip of Manny and the Phantom at Tournament of the Icons. Manny comes on the screen with Green Phantom, “Steve Royds, you have inspired me. I feel like you have inspired me. My exploding ring match against the Green Phantom was okay, but I feel like I let down the fans. Tonight, I’m giving the fans you and me in a match with Exploding Barbed Wire Boards!” Manny snorts some white powder from a plastic bag as the Green Phantom looks on. “Steve, you are FUCKING DEAD, and it happens RIGHT FUCKING NOW!”
And RIGHT FUCKING NOW, we get... Brian the Guppie, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes with the mike, “They told me to fill time while we break...” I tuned out the rest, it was something about a radio show about wrestling on Team 990 called Between the Ropes. I hope that my failure to pay attention didn’t result in any valuable information being missed, like say that Brian the Guppie, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes hosts a radio show about wrestling on Team 990 called Between the Ropes.
Two tables covered in barb-wire are set up in two opposite corners. The first is in the near right corner as the wrestlers enter from the back, the second is in the far left corner. The latter is the one closest to me, and is marked Board 2. I circle the ring to determine that, yes indeed the first board is marked Board 1.
Angus comes out in street clothes and passes in front of us. The Red Army gives him some flack for being punked out, to which he responds, “Well, there are two of them and they are quite big.” One of the Red Army cracks that “The Highlanders are the New Bushwhackers,” to which Angus indignantly replies, “The Bushwhackers are from New Zealand! We’re from Scotland! They’re two completely different countries!” To which I observed, “They’re both covered in SHEEP!” Angus, no doubt remembering a certain comment about his partners amorous animal adventures, cracks, “That’s enough out of you!”
It should be pointed out at this point that Angus was not limping, and despite having had his leg Pillmanized a bare half-hour before was wearing no form of cast or bandage or even an ankle support. I know that Angus likes star ratings, so his ratings for Scarred For Life:
Plus One Star for bringing us the news of wee Angus.
Plus One Star for being prepared to take on the NINJAZ~ single-handed.
Plus One Star for taking a beating from Iceberg and FOD like a man.
Minus One Star for not coming out in time to save the NINJAZ~ titles.
Plus Three Stars for coming out in time to prevent a NINJA~BBQ.
Plus One Star for kayfabing with the fans during the show.
Minus a Million Stars for not limping after having his leg Pillmanized.
It’s 11:54. My god is Brian the Guppie, host of Team 990’s Between the Ropes STILL nattering on? “Please stay away from the boards. We aren’t kidding. Please for your own safety, don’t get too close. From Venice Beach, California, weighing in at 230 pounds, the Natural One, Steve Royds.” Steve is wearing a backwards facing ball cap. He has a long-sleeved shirt around his waist. He unties this and puts it on.
Good Strategy Steve!
( SHHHH!! Steve has the mike! )
“I didn’t agree to this. Seriously, I wanted to be a main-eventer, but not like this. This must be dangerous, You’re asking the crowd to move back. I mean if you are telling them that it’s not safe to be near the ring, than it can’t be safe to be in the ring, Can it? I want to be the champion, but I don’t want to get blown up. I’m a good looking guy, unlike the rest of the guys in the IWS.” He points to the Two Mountains Mob, “These are the guys who should be in this match. They’re ugly, they’re stupid, they have got nothing to lose. Oh well, Bring on the stupid ugly guy.”
Bell rings at 12:00.
( Can you believe that the NINJAZ~ lost? They were so totally screwed out of their titles. )
I KNOW. It SUCKS.
Steve slaps Manny on the way in and starts laying a beating on the junkie. Ruffneck is inside the ring, while senior IWS official Peanut like the gutless NINJA~screwer that he is, observes from the outside. Manny rallies and lays in a Junkie-Line on Royds, and ANOTHER, and ANOTHER!! Manny bends Steve over for a pump-handle sit-out power bomb, and follows up by choke slamming Royds onto his knee.
( That move always makes me wince. Not wince as much as the NINJAZ~ losing the titles, but still wince. )
Steve’s hat has slipped over his head. Manny has a barb-wired bat. Swing and a Miss! Swing and a Miss! Steve is being forced back towards one of the boards, he avoids the board, but eats the bat in the stoumach. His long-sleeved shirt is stripped off, ad he eats ONE! TWO! THREE TIMES A LADY! FOUR JUST FOR THE GORE! barb-wired bat shots to the back. Both men are outside. Manny does a NASTY choke slam on Steve, and then drags him back up and Irish Whips him into the Two Mountains section. The Two Mountains Mob scrambles, and then, as a unit, builds stack of chairs for Manny.
( MAN. Who would have believed that those clowns were organized enough to do anything other than drink, belch and fart as a group? )
Manny body slams Steve on to the chairs, and then climbs the Speaker platform to drop an elbow on Steve. Manny hurts himself as much as Steve though, and Steve is able to suplex Manny onto the chair stack. Steve rolls Manny in to the ring. Steve executes an ENORMOUS Suplex on Manny. Steve drops an elbow to the throat. He drags Manny up, and points to the board nearest us, changes his mind and Irish Whips Manny into the fa-HOLY SWEET MARY MOTHER OF GOD THE LORD IS WITH THEE PRAY FOR US SINNERS NOW AND AT THE TIME OF OUR DEATH!
( HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT! )
Steve is scared, and frankly so am I. Somehow, Manny is still alive after that horrendous explosion, and Steve scoops him up to body slam him on to the remains of the board that exploded. Steve grabs a chair and bashes Manny, throws the chair aside, and gets the bat, which is much more the thing. Then Steve pulls out handcuffs, and cuffs Manny’s hands behind him. Manny is busted wide open. He tries a running head butt on Steve Royds but Royds easily side steps. Royds spin kicks Manny to the face and then bashes him with a chair.
( Green Phantom is running out of the back with a chair. )
He swings at Steve’s head. Steve ducks and the Phantom WALLOPS Manny with the chair. Ooooh! Bad mistake on Phantom’s part!
( That was no mistake! The Green Phantom, disgusted at the sight of his tag team partner wallowing in a cycle of drugs, homelessness and despair is staging a well-needed intervention. No doubt Steve helped him set it up. So noble of him to give up his chance for revenge on Manny in order to see that Manny gets the therapy that he needs, Brilliantly executed face turn for Steve, I must say. Why are the Two Mountains Mob booing the Phantom? )
They are not just booing. They are right up on the apron and they are PISSED OFF with the Phantom.
( Fair Weather Fans! FUCK ‘EM PHANTOM! You don’t need the support of these unemployed, alcoholic losers! )
Well, it appears that the Green Phantom agrees with you, because he is dragging in the most vocal of the Two Mountains Mob and beating the shit out of him. At some point around here, Manny gets thrown into the second board which DOES NOT EXPLODE! And ONYX is OUT! He spears Steve Royds, and chases away the Green Phantom. Onyx challenges Green Phantom to get back in the ring, and when he doesn’t come in grabs a mike, “I see DEAD PHANTOMS! Manny you all right, man?” “One board explodes, the other doesn’t” “You okay, Manny, you’re kinda rambling.” “One boards explodes, the other board doesn’t explode. I HATE FUCKING Explosion Matches! Next Month, in the main event. You want to FUCK with me Phantom, Royds. Next month me an ONYX are going to FUCK you up, because next month’s main event is FANS BRING THE WEAPONS!!”
Steve is back out pounding Onyx. Green Phantom charges out of the back with light bulbs. He Irish Whips Manny into the light bulbs and then burst the remainder on Manny’s head. Oddly, a disqualification, or no-contest in an IWS main event, at 12:12 (12:00?)
Nice set-up for the Fans Bring the Weapons match although it would have had more impact if they hadn’t mentioned it until the very end.
( I still can’t believe that the NINJAZ~ lost the titles! They were so screwed! )
After the show was over, I wandered around collecting hand shakes like you would baseball cards, introducing myself to Onyx, Beef and Kamikaze. I shook the hands of Precious Lucy and Steve Royds quickly as they were on their way out.
( The fact that Steve Royds still has no idea who you were, I find hilarious. )
A lot of people wanted to know my opinion of the card. I told them that I needed time to think about the show, that I am not the sort to make snap decisions. That was polite horseshit, really, because I liked most of what I had seen, and yet at the same time I was really PISSED OFF, and couldn’t figure out why. Lord knows I should have been happy about the Green Phantom heel turn.
( Fans turned on the Phantom, man. FUCK are the Two Mountains boys fickle. There was a lot of stuff to like in the show, but it just seems as though there was some nagging thing that was pissing me off about it. )
I just can’t figure out what it would be. I spoke to Eddy, who having read my articles, had decided that I was not a dangerous internet geek. We discussed his injury, and he told me that he had been injured in his match against Brutus, when he came off the top and let me just quote myself from the Tournament of Icons recap, “[Eddy] attempts a Shooting Star Press, and bounces off his face when the second member of the One Warrior Nation rolls out of the way.”
( I blame Brutus. If the flabby, over-the-hill son of a bitch was prepared to actually take a bump, Eddy probably wouldn’t have been hurt. )
Well, Brutus was supposed to roll out of the way. Eddy and I talked some more although I had to restrain myself from asking him how he felt about the NINJAZ~ getting screwed out of the titles.
( I KNOW. That SUCKS! )
I got Eddy to introduce me to Manny, and I was able to shake his hand. We didn’t talk for long as he still had a number of things to do. He was still pissed about the second board not going off, and explained that it was because the guy controlling the boards had made the correct decision not to fire it because there were people too close to the board.
( I guess Manny doesn’t qualify as people for these purposes. )
I reassured him that he had covered for it really well. I went on my way, walking back to the bridge to cross to Montreal, trying to figure out why the show had upset me so much.
( Right. That was and is a mystery. The other mystery we were trying to figure out was: How badly did it SUCK that the NINJAZ~ were screwed out of their titles? )
I KNOW. That SUCKED!
It wasn’t until the next show that I was able to figure out exactly why I was so pissed off. A show called UnFuckingSanctioned, a show that I will strap myself to the keyboard to tell you about next.
Llakor, that Lousy Canuck
Former [slash] Contributour
"Don't Blame CANADA, Blame Yourselves!"
As young as
From: China, Maine
Since last post: 2 days
Last activity: 17 hours
|#4 Posted on 25.11.02 1058.47 | Instant Rating: 8.21|
I am going to read every word you write, ya lousy Canuck bastard.
He's Rolie Polie Olie - and in his world of curves and curls, he's the swellest kid around.