TCP: Argh, I can't stand it..
[Christopher Packard is then seen storming out of Ricky Masters locker room and looks to be heading down towards the ring, as he does so Bad Moon Rising by CCR blares from the PA systems..]
JH: I'm sure I've heard that theme before.
ST: Well this Chris Packard dude is really getting under peoples skin, he's ripped of "The Sultan of Submissions" theme tune and Ben Van Itan ain't going to be pleased about that.
JH: I doubt he's done it on purpose, more of a mindgame, or he just likes Bad Moon Rising
ST: Nah, he's a crook and Van Itan will take this Submisison Sultan Wanabee to school!
[The arena cameras slowly pan inwards. Seen on the video wall is a shot of a building, which appears to be a training gymnasium, with a sign above which reads "Packards School of Science". The video wall then fades up as heavy fireworks followed by a huge:
[T!]
[C!]
[P!]
hits the screen.. The crowds here in the Tri-state, not knowing what to make of this. Then seen at the ramp, making his way out, with a microphone in hand, heading towards the ring is a gentleman, who is around mid twenties and who has short blonde hair. As the fireworks and music lower their tone, he continues to walk towards the ring. We can see he is bedecked in a pair of ebony black lycra leotard, with white wrestling boots on the ends of his rather petite feet. The gentleman gives a swift look up, orders for the ring announcer to open the ropes for him, they do so and then with a smug bow and a cheep smirk, in a tone that is of a Oxford University Pupil, which is clear by the emblem of Trinity College Oxford, located on the middle of the lycra leotard, the gentleman speaks.]
TCP: Hello fellow students!!!
[CROWDS: Mixed TCP! TCP! TCP! chant..]
TCP: Today is a day which when I first woke up, I thought would be good, yet it seems to have gone from bad to worse.. You see, I entered the TSW with the intent of being as good as I possibly can be, some though think that Chris Packard is not all there, has a bit of a problem with the American people and is, what you like to say "A English Snob", to that, I say, I may think I am better then all of you, but until I have proved it, I will not mention it.
Instead I have decided that since the TSW has not really any idea of what Chris Packard is capable of doing, that I shall this very evening throw down the gauntlet and will wait until somebody accept my humble challenge? For it is clear to me, that so far, I may be what the Tri-State is currently talking about, but until they actually see what I can do inside the confounds of the wrestling ring, never will I be taken seriously.
And thus, since the TSW has decided that I am not good enough to appear on their weekly telivision schedule, I fealt that I had to do it off my own back. TSW, if there is one thing I do not like, it is being snubbed. I have more talent in my little finger then some of the "story tellers" which you so wish to promote. In fact whilst I was in the locker room of your TSW Heavyweight Champion, I came to the conclusion that it was just too small..
Size to Chris Packard is everything, for I need the most possible space so that I can take the necessay measures needed to train in the Technical Aspects of wrestling, as I learnt in my hometown of Oxford, England. TSW, I demand that I be given the rights to a decent sized locker room, I demand that I be given the rights to the best training equipment and above all that, I demand that you hand pick for me an opponent to face me next week here on live telivision.. For I am not going to sit back and allow you to snub The Technicain again, for like it or not, I shall get what I want, I shall get the respect, or be rude and ill mannered like that mollusuc I spoke to earlier and like it or not, I shall take you back school, for once you enter the School of Science, you shall understand why there is not one single aspect of scientific wrestling, I do not understand, be it a German Suplex or a Figure Four, nobody can outsmart me but all shall be disinfected..
See you again soon fellow students.."
[The crowds with a huge "TCP! TCP! TCP!" chant as Christopher Packard exits the ring, slowly he walks back up the aisle, as he does so, with his head held high and the fans slowly cheering for him Packard turns around and gives a Scientific Smile..]
JH: Spear! Spear by Raveller and now he's punishing Masters with his fists and this main-event-status-match is off to a flying start.
ST: How can he do that to the champ? Doesn't he know who he is?
JH: He sure dose Schafe, and that's why Raveller's bring him to his feet and sending him off the ropes for another attack.
[But some quick thinking by Master's and he slides under the rope and walks around the ring as Raveller stands in the center of the ring calling Masters out.]
JH: Tell me what you think of your master now, Schafe... He's calling for a time out. There are no time outs in wrestling.
ST: It's all psychological, Jimmy. He's got Raveller right where he wants him.
[The referee now yells at Masters' to get back in the ring and Masters has some choice words for him.]
JH: Are you kidding me, Schafe? Here comes Raveller! Flying over the referee and the top rope he hammers Masters' with a body press.
ST: Where'd he come up with that?
JH: Certainly Raveller is willing to put his body on the line. He'll use it as launching weapon if he has to. But now both me are to their feet and Masters' sees Raveller coming with a clothesline and he ducks it and high tails it out there. Masters' is chased by Raveller around the ring for a short distance until Masters' slides into the ring and as Raveller follows him, Masters' turns around and levels him before he can get to his feet.
ST: Ha! He sucked him in, I told you it was all psychology.
JH: Maybe so, but Master's is giving it to Raveller. Masters picks up Raveller and sends him down with a russian leg sweep and follows that up with a leg drop. Masters is really trying to stay on top of Raveller, if he keeps him on the canvas, Raveller won't be able to pull off those spectacular moves.
ST: Come on Masters, finish this guy quick.
JH: Masters is standing over Raveller showing his dominance, but Raveller takes him down with a leg scissors and now both men are to their feet and staring each other down.
ST: Raveller's cowering. I can tell.
JH: You must be kidding me. They hook up and Masters comes out on top with a hammer lock that is then reversed by Raveller into a side head lock. Masters reverses the side head lock with a belly to back drop, but Raveller lands on his feet! What athleticism! Masters turns and Raveller whips him into the ropes and executes a back body drop. but now it's Masters who lands on his feet!
ST: HA! What athletis-is-em!?!
JH: Well spoken, it's good that your only here for comic relief. Masters' now off the ropes after landing on his feet and Raveller takes him down with a drop toe hold which is then used to slide into an STF! Tap Out! Tap out!
ST: No way, you got to better than that to beat Masters, he'll get to the ropes, you just wait.
JH: Raveller's really got that move cinched in, Masters is riving in pain.
ST: I hope he gets to the ropes...
JH: Masters begins to inch his way to the ropes with the ref asking if he wants to quit.
ST: No way, the master doesn't quit anything.
JH: Raveller realizes the hold before Masters gets to the rope. Raveller runs up the turn buckle and as Masters gets to his feet he's brought right back down with a missal drop kick. Raveller's feeling the momentum and executes a huricanrana followed by a ddt and a pin.
One
Two
Masters kicks out and quickly catches a tired Raveller with an arm bar.
ST: This is a great opportunity for Masters to catch his breath wile punishing Raveller with his technical ability.
JH: Wow, something intelligent from you mouth? But it's also given Raveller some time to catch his breath.
ST: I hope you take back that 'comic relief' point made earlier.
JH: Sorry, Schaef, your still a clown to me. Raveller's managed to fight his way up to a standing position, but Masters still has his arm. Raveller rolls, ducks and handspring's way to a drop kick but Masters dose not realize the hold! Masters turns it into a ddt followed by a belly to belly suplex and rolls that into a Boston crab!
ST: It's over, no one exscapes the wrath of the Boston crab!
JH: Raveller's trying to push himself up.
ST But Masters squashes him back down.
JH: Raveller still trying to push himself up.
ST: But Masters squa--
JH No, Raveller rolls and takes Masters down. Raveller now quickly to the ropes and nails masters from behind with a cross body/bull dog. I don't even think Raveller new what he was doing.
ST : Masters is to his feet!
JH: And stagers Raveller with a flurry of punches. Masters now whips Raveller to the turnbuckle, but Raveller scales the buckles like steps and takes Masters down with a dragonrana!
ST: How the hell dose he pull of these moves... that's it, he's on steroids.
JH: I take back what I said about 'something smart from your mouth.'
ST: What? Steroids are performance enhancing.
JH: Please... As Masters staggers to his feet, he's hit with double leg famasser! Here's the pin.
One
Two
scroll some more...
Thrrr[Kick out!]eee!
New champion!
ST: Sorry to burst your bubble, but that match aint over.
JH: I don't believe it, he kicked out. Masters now attacking a frustrated Raveller. Vertical supplex, russian leg sweep, double under hook pile driver, full nelson slam, both men to their feet... and a lariat sends Raveller down. Masters could have a pin here, but he's show boating.
ST: He needs some time to please the fans. After all, they paid good money to see him.
JH: they're booing.
ST: It's a love-hate relationship.
JH: Raveller spring boards to his feet!
ST: It's the steroids...
JH: He runs off the opposite rope and Masters doesn't see him coming and Raveller clears the top rope and uses it as a guillotine across Masters throat.
ST: Raveller might have twisted an ankle.
JH: Good observation, but that's not slowing him down. He's back in the ring and tornado ddt's Masters. Raveller still not slowing down quickly climbs the turnbuckle. 450 corkscrew splash!
One
Two
ST: Come on, kick out!
Kick out!
ST: He listened to me!
JH: I doubt that. Masters is trying to survive. It's instinct. Raveller now whips Masters into the turnbuckle and follows it with a splash. Masters stumbles out of the corner and comes at Raveller who back body drops Masters over the rope. Raveller's heading for the top rope.
ST: He practically makes that his home a way from home. But Masters is getting to his feet.
JH: And Raveller uses the top rope as tight rope, running a few paces until he transforms the tight rope into a launching pad for the whisper in the wind. What a move! But he spilt my coffee.
ST: Oh crap, these are new pants!
JH: Both men down and the refs attending to the two fallen warriors.
ST: Masters is up first!
JH: But it's Masters who gets clotheslined into the front row! Raveller Quickly back into the ring and plays to the fans. This going to be big!
ST: He's a big move kind of guy, that's why the fans cheer 'holly shit'.
[slight pause]
ST: Holly Shit!
JH: Took the words out of my mouth. Raveller just used a suicide dive on Masters into the front row.
[Raveller tosses Ricky over the barricade back to the wrestling area.]
ST: Masters comes back with a punch and a hip toss.
JH: And he's right be side us.
[Schaff pats Masters on the back to congratulate him on a great match and Masters grabs the ring bell from the desk.]
JH: What the hell's he doing with that!?!
ST: What the master wants, the master gets.
[The ref turns to instruct Jimmy to get someone down here to clean up the coffee quick.]
JH: No, you idiot turn around!
BLANG!
ST: Whooo! Masters nailed him.
[The ref turns around and sees Masters pushing Raveller into the ring.]
ST: Figure four!
JH: And Raveller's unconscious! Ref tests Raveller's arm, this ones over.
ST: And it's all do to your coffee!
Arm falls once...
Arm falls twice....
Arm falls a thir-NO!
JH: Raveller gets the arm up! By god, he gets the arm up!
ST: But Masters still has the hold on tight.
JH: Raveller tries to turn the move over....He's done it the pressures now on Masters...
ST: Reverse it! Reverse it Ricky!
JH: Masters releases the hold and both men are up and Ricky whips Raveller into the ropes and misses with a clothesline. Raveller on the comeback misses with his clothesline and Raveller uses the ropes and nails Masters with a 450 splash!
JH: Both men up, Fragile! Fragile from Raveller.
ST: For those who don't know, that's a fisherman's impaler ddt.
JH: And Raveller's going for the kill. He climbs the rope's like he has so many times in this match. Spring board shooting star press...
Redemption!
ST: No! Masters caught him!
JH: And takes him down with a power bomb! Slow ride to hell! Raveller's passing out.
ST: Nighty night!
JH: Referee now testing the arm of Raveller...
It falls once!
It falls twice....
It falls a third time!
JH: This ones over and Ricky Masters has retained the title!
[Masters slowly stands to his feet and stares at the fallen Raveller. He shakes his head and slowly climbs from the ring.]
JH: Ricky Masters underestimated Raveller. He almost lost his title here today.
ST: Yeah, almost this, almost that. Who holds the gold? Raveller? NO! RICKY MASTERS! THANK YOU!!!
[Fade to commercial.]