[Three fireworks, one for the middle, one for the left and one for the right. The flashpaper disappears in an instant; the flashbulbs begin. First through the entranceway scampers the whip-thin ball of energy called "Rat" -- she of the flailing braids and gouge-like grin. Second comes the six-four silent man known only as "Hood," arms folded over his Runnin' Rebels sweatshirt; the hood is up and the glasses are shades.]

JO: He stands six feet and one-half inch tall and weighed in tonight at two hundred and seventeen and one-quarter pounds...

ST: Ooh, one-quarter.

[Hood might stalk, Rat might scamper; tonight, Madison can only be said to be "slinking". She's wearing a dress -- that's different right there. It's shiny, glittery silver, the neckline v'ing just barely between her cleavage and the hem lower than most valets would wear. With her hair up and that deep red lipstick that looks like it's black or purple in some lights, Madi looks much classier than the sweatshirt and jeans of Hood or the leather and fishnet of Rat, and she's straying just a little from the three.]

JO: He is the REIGNING National Wrestling Council HEAVYWEIGHT! CHAMPION OF THE WORLD! He is the Raja of Roguishness... he is the King of Swing! He! Is!

PEERLESS!

HUNTER!

SABUANI!

[And the spotlight changes color; no, actually changes is too strong a word for it. It's tinged with a purple so deep your eyes could get lost in it when the Raja comes out. His tights are not kaliedoscopic or multihued -- they are black and riven with lightning up the leg, lightning that continues through the "PHS" logo of his t-shirt, a logo that seems to shimmer in the odd lighting. This lightning also hangs from his left ear and is emblazoned across his left eye -- the first time anyone has ever seen the Raja in any form of facepaint.]

[And he is grinning, but it is tight. It is eager It is demanding. Imagine the devil hungry for souls, rubbing his hands together in the desire to acquire people who know no better. The smile he wears? That's Hunter's right now.]

[The triad-turned-quartet stops at the three-quarter point of the aisle. Some things never change, now it is a four-person race under the bottom rope. A race they all lose to him; a race Madison Justice never participates in, not this time. Not in those heels.]

[Hunter comes to his feet in the middle of the ring and he hoists the Big Gold Belt over his head. Look at all those people in Indianapolis taking pictures.]

JH: Hunter Sabuani turning the NWC title belt over to the referee -- that's what these two men have on the line.

ST: That and a lot of pride.

JH: And pride gets them in more trouble than anything else.

ST: I beg to differ, actually - in my experience, it's the big-ass steel chairs that get them in the most trouble.

JH: Good point, and let's hope that they keep this one clean, and wrestle the way we know they can, because here... we... go!

[Ding! Ding! Ding!]

JH: And right from the get-go, there's Azaul in for an open-hand right to the chest. Evades the retaliation, and ducks in with a hammerlock.

ST: Why do they always start with hammerlocks?

[ Jimmy leans over and snags Schaef in a hammerlock, and Schaef lets out a yelp of pain.]

JH: That's why.

ST: You whore.

JH: Sub's around that, though, and now they lock up...

ST: Never touch me again or I'll quit and they'll make you work with Eugene Ware.

[ Sabuani whips Azaul into the ropes, but misses the follow-up spin kick he attempts, and Azaul spins around and catches him in a waistlock.]

JH: Dear God.... Waistlock from Azaul, elbowed out from Sabuani, and Sabuani goes high for a takedown, countered into a hiptoss from Azaul, and this, Schaef, is going to be one damn fun match to watch.

ST: Yeah, they got game, yo.

JH: Sabuani up, and he's looking to stay mobile in this match, keeping on the balls of his feet and waiting for an opportunity.

ST: This is one of the few matches where Sabuani will be outclassed on the actual mat wrestling aspect, actually - he's going to try and stay mobile and keep away from the stuff that Azaul would counter easily.

JH: He told you that, eh? Oh, Azaul swings...

[Schaef might be right, though, because Sabuani just ducked a right hand and ran the ropes.]

JH: Rebound now, Azaul sets up, no; caught with a baseball slide to the ankle, and here's Sabuani springing up and taking down Azaul with an arm drag takedown.

ST: Wristlock now, and Sabuani's using that grip to haul Azaul to his feet, interesting choice there by the champ...

JH: Especially since Azaul just wrenched that arm free, hit an elbow to the gut, and this would be... a solid suplex from Azaul, as Sabuani comes down.

ST: Right back up, though, the champ's energized. Speaking of energized, what the hell's with the lightning motif Sabby's rocking tonight?

JH: Got me, but Sabuani's jolted by a big Azaul chop to the chest, he leans in and whips the Peerless one back into the ropes...

ST: Azaul's going for a backdrop or something, but that's leapfrogged easily by the champ, who's more mobile here than I've seen him for a long time.

JH: That's right, but what I'm wondering is if Sabuani's going to keep it in the ring here...

[They come together again, and lock up.]

JH: Azaul's been parrying every attempt at an impact move so far that hasn't come by surprise, and he's got Sabuani sort of stymied, although the champ's not showing frustration yet. But Sabuani's got, I'd wager, the best stamina in the Council right now... see, look at this, Azaul just reversed what I think was an attempt at a waistlock, and he brings Sabuani down to the mat with a gutwrench pin..

ST: Sabuani out quick, there's that stamina of all of... two minutes. Well, I suppose the multiple West beatings would an example. Whatever happened to West, anyway?

JH: Whoo, maybe something like that! Cross arm-breaker from Sabuani, and there he is with a, OH! How about that springboard plancha early on here?

ST: Nice to see him busting that out... looks like he's full speed ahead on this one, but he's going to need all the momentum he can get... and yeah, Azaul's got him in a waistlock now, looks like he's going for a German suplex...

JH: He lands it, but he's not going to bridge, he's rolling Sabuani up and it looks like he's going for a reverse - would you look at that?

[Hunter Sabuani rolls forward, pinning Azaul's shoulders to the mat with a jackknife rollup.]

ST: Another early pin attempt-no, Azaul powers forward, bridges up... shifts his weight, and he's got Hunter in a backslide now. Awesome mat stuff here from Azaul, I'm impressed.

JH: You're impressed by shiny objects.

ST: Granted.

[What you missed in the bickering was Sabuani using the momentum to roll forward, forcing himself out of the backslide and right up to his feet. He lets himself bounce off the ropes, and uses the inertia to deliver an extra-hard knife-edged chop to the chest of Azaul.]

[That got him a few WHOOs, but more importantly some serious applause. The crowd here is not so much split as it is appreciative.]

JH: Azaul hit hard by that chop, and Sabuani goes to follow it up with another, and a third to the throat-no, caught, and a few mini-chops of Azaul's own are followed up by an arm-wrench to a short-arm clothesline! Azaul scampers over to the second rope... jumping axe-handle, and Sabuani's doubled over.

ST: Scream, Dracula, scream.

JH: Azaul is cool and calculated here, actually, it's surprising for a first-time World title challenger. His moves are coming crisply, and he's hitting everything really cleanly. Sabuani's got the flash, but what Azaul's hitting is, make no mistake, just as effective if not more.

ST: Yes, yes, yes, so when're we going to see the blunt instruments already?

JH: And that focus serves him well, as he timed Sabuani's rise perfectly to hit a nice little scissor kick to Sabuani's back and neck area. Azaul wasting no time, cooly proceeding forward and locking in an abdominal stretch.

ST: Hey, beer man!

JH: Pay attention, Schaefe, even if you don't like the scientific wrestling you can at least ogle Sabuani's supporting cast.

ST: Can do.

[Rat Sicarii is leaning over the apron, absolutely fixated on the match. Her face is screwed up with tension, and Schaefe is staring at her ass.]

JH: I shouldn't have suggested that, and the stretch is still on... not for long, Sabuani's finally got a good grip to break it up.

ST: Yes, yes, what you said.

JH: Wait, what's he doing? He's gripping inside... oh, lifts Azaul over with what looked like the bastard child of a Northern Lights Suplex... and Hunter follows up with a precise double-footed dropkick right to the face, and that one drove Azaul flat on his ass.

ST: Yeah, how about that ass?

JH: Get higher standards, Schaef. I swear to God, man, hole and a heartbeat.

ST: You know, I'd kill you for a dollar.

[Some witty bastard in the crowd calls "A buck, right here!" Sabuani heads to the air, and the new angle as the camera cuts both gives a beautiful view of Sabuani's graceful leap, but also shows a guy in a MSW t-shirt standing behind the announce table in the front row, holding a dollar bill.]

JH: And Sabuani's really got speed, there he goes with a corkscrew springboard legdrop! Peerless Hunter Sabuani is flying tonight, fellows, and he connected solidly with the challenger!

[That draws applause from the crowd. Not wild, rowdy cheers - but zealous applause, the same sort that greeted Azaul after the reversal.]

ST: Pee-Aitch-Ess isn't about to let Azaul get away with this one, you gotta believe his sights are set on Scorn in a few weeks in LCW. He'll have to run through Wyatt Connors in PUW, but I mean, Wyatt Connors lost to LIGHTNING once.

JH: You're serious? When the hell was that?

ST: SMIT.

JH: You WATCHED that?

[PHS whips Azaul into the ropes, and follows up with a big spinning heel kick, which sends Azaul spilling over the rope to the outside.]

ST: Yep.

JH: Wow, you must have been their entire audience, as Azaul's bailed to the outside now, and you might get your blunt-instrument fetish he's DARING interference to come from the entranceway, as he hasn't taken an eye off it yet. Sub sure does cover all his bases.

ST: Of course, then there's Ratsy, who's had a bit too many amphetamines today, I think. Her name shouldn't be Rat, it should be Tigger.

JH: That's awful. Really, as Sabuani finally gets something in, hitting another arm-drag takeover and wrenching on a side armbar. It looks like he's been working on that right arm of Azaul's - be sure to watch that later in the match.

ST: Sure, sure. I'd rather watch Madison, she's looking awfully classy tonight. I don't usually go for that kind of stuff, you know, but da-yumn, yo.

[And classy she is, sitting on her little chair at ringside, looking oddly impassive. We're not used to this from Madison - she's never been Rat-style, but she's shown SOME degree of emotional involvement before.]

JH: Stop saying yo! Sabuani breaks the armbar now, and he's going for a Northern Lights Suplex... no, that's twice countered, as Azaul uses his weight advantage to throw himself and Sub to the mat. And look at Sabuani, he's frustrated there.

ST: Azaul's sure as hell doing his job tonight, and he's perfectly content to let this one drag on long.

JH: Wonder if he's got any fireballs up his sleeve?

ST: You never know, those hippies. I mean, this is a man who drinks soy milk. Soy. Milk. That shit messes with your mind.

JH: I think the frustration's starting to show, as Sabuani's starting to come with the closed fists now... Azaul seems willing to step up for a bit, and they're trading punches now... Azaul's forced Sabuani into the corner, but Sabuani's gotten a few good shots in...

ST: Damn, this is like that Leafs/Devils game. See that the other night? That was sick.

JH: Oh, no wonder Azaul's willing to get into a fistfight, he's got Sabuani maneuvred into the corner in perfect position for a shoulder charge, putting Subby's ribs hard into that ringpost. That's the third one of those, if memory serves.

ST: Damn hippies.

JH: And there's a whip from Azaul, sending Sabuani across the ring at the other post... and Azaul follows... but Sabuani stops himself, get this, with a foot to the middle turnbuckle, spins around and delivers... oh, Jesus, a no-look superkick that damn near knocked Azaul out of his boots.

[Louder applause.]

ST: Hehe, your doobies and birkenstocks and 'rock music' can't save you NOW, huh, hippie? That's RIGHT, bitch.

JH: And Sabuani's going to follow it up with a standing moonsault, look at this... OH, ALL KNEES! Hunter Sabuani just cannot buy a break this match.

ST: [bleep] art, let's kill.

JH: What the hell was that?

ST: I've got a GWAR shirt saying that.

JH: GWAR fan, eh? Never woulda guessed.

[Rat Sicarii is up on the apron now, shrieking her encouragement for her Raja. She's egging the crowd on, and it's got an effect on Sabuani - Azaul goes for a submission of some sort, but it doesn't even get the chance to be applied before Hunter thrusts out of it.]

ST: I miss Ibrahim Seck. He entered to GWAR.

JH: How about we just get back to the match?

ST: And Ebola, he entered to GWAR too. Smart people, them.

JH: Alright, you talk about GWAR, I'll disconnect your mic and do this alone, I'm fine with that. Right now, folks, Sabuani's on his feet, and on the move again... he's dancing on the balls of his feet, feinting in occasionally, but just staying out of Azaul's reach more than anything.

ST: Is he a hippie too? No, wait, conscientious objector, right?

JH: Azaul's staying cool, though, moving in slowly... no, quick dash and he's locked up, but Sabuani's got the drop on him this time... no, ANOTHER reversal of what looked like a piledriver attempt, and that turns into a swinging neckbreaker - no, STOPPED by Sabuani, he hangs on and turns it over into... oh, jeez, a brainbuster suplex!

ST: Wow. That was impressive.

[The crowd's impressed too, and Rat is ecstatic. Madison, however, is applauding politely, still looking withdrawn. Schaefe asks the question on our minds.]

ST: What's with Madi?

JH: Got me, she does seem kinda quiet.

ST: Maybe someone drugged her. Oh, wait, that was me. Hey, Madi, after the show--

JH: Don't even joke. Mental picture's too disgusting, let's just call the match.

ST: You do that, I'll speak in Billy Joel song lyrics.

ST: He said Bill, I believe this is killing me.

JH: Azaul's up, and that's another big roundhouse to the sternum of Sub. Moves in, goes for the suplex... damn, he's sticking to the basics here, excepting that big moonsault press...

ST: I'm sure I could someday be a movie star if I could get out of this place.

JH: Oh, you're no help.

ST: Oh, la, la la, diddy-dah...

JH: Die.

[What you missed was Hunter Sabuani doing the textbook suplex reversal, as Azaul got a little ahead of himself. Hunter elevates Azaul, staggers back a few steps, and then dumps him over the top rope and onto the apron. Rat cheers, Hood nods, Madi sits.]

JH: And here comes Hunter with a running dropkick THROUGH the ropes, oh, and jeez, that's Azaul slamming HARD into the guardrail. Damn, he carried a ways.

ST: Like kicking a field goal. Or that baby from South Park.

JH: Azaul's up, and Sabuani's still going forward... DIVING CLOTHESLINE TO THE OUTSIDE!

ST: TIMMAY!!!

JH: ...yes. In any case, Azaul's HURT!

ST: He is indeed, and Sabuani's FINALLY managed to turn the tide of this match, I believe.

JH: Let's wait and see, but you've gotta believe that took a good deal out of Azaul. Good combo there. And... like I was saying before, this is Sabuani's playground, outside the ring. He's not a Dez Bradley or a Raveller or the like, but I'd like to see Dez or Rav do what he's done against the folks he's done it against, and still come out standing.

ST: Grasp of the English Language slipping there, eh?

JH: Nobody's perfect... here's Sabuani, he's got Azaul, and that's a front layout suplex... delivered right onto the guardrail!

ST: Oh, yeah!

JH: Sabuani drops to the splits, and he stands Azaul up with an uppercut to the gut!

ST: Now Sabuani's on a roll, and he's chain-wrestling now... this is where he shines.

JH: Walking Azaul over to the steel steps now, and he just shoves Azaul into them... like Sabuani wanted, I think, Azaul landed right shoulder first, and that's gotta be hurting now there.

ST: And now, finally, Sabuani is in shape to showboat, raising an arm to acknowledge the crowd. It sounds a little split, though... Azaul, our... [scoff] PR Rep has his share of fans.

JH: Sabuani moving in... OH, DEAR GOD, that was a ferocious low-blow. And Azaul's never been one to shy away from those if he can get away with them, if it's on the outside and it's legal. And how frustrated is Sabuani right now?

[Is he ever. He's doubled over, but the exhortation he gave out wasn't pain so much as a profane expression of frustration. He slaps the fallen steel steps, hard.]

ST: Speaking of low-blows, remember in MSW when Azaul faced Irish in those pants with the neon yellow crotch? He said it highlighted the ref's attention to Bobby Irish low-blows... those wacky hippies. I suppose his tights are made out of hemp, too.

JH: Azaul needs to follow this up to stem the Sabuani tide, take advantage of the frustration... and it looks like he's going for it... inverted Atomic Drop, but he's holding Sabuani up for a while, moving him somewhere... oh, brings him down with a VENGEANCE into the post!

ST: Face-first... no, groin-first... hehehe. Poor bastard, I love this. Now all we need are blunt instruments.

JH: Patience is a virtue, Schaefe.

ST: Don't make me start singing again.

JH: Well, it looks like our participants are getting away from the whole, you know, actual WRESTLING part of this match. Sub's call, almost the only thing up until recently that he's directed in this match. He's tired, I think, of Azaul's strategy... he's just going to brawling now, and he's going to try and win ugly.

ST: They're going right up the ramp there, and they're close to the fans on the sides... someone's going to lose a hand someday trying to pat a wrestler onto the back. What if someone tried to pat Masters on the back? He'd make them an ingredient in his soup.

JH: Hard right hand from Azaul...

ST: "The Joy of Cooking Homosexuals."

JH: Returned by Sabuani, catches a punch and whips Azaul by the right arm up the ramp... that jerk to the shoulder can't be fun for Azaul, who's started to favour it. They're right up on the staging now.

ST: No, wait, "The Joy of Cooking For Homosexuals."

JH: Knee to the gut from Sabuani...

ST: Got it this time. "The Joy of Cooking Forty Homosexuals." That's the one. You'd need a big pot, don't you think? I swear, Ricky Masters and Martha Stewart would be the perfect couple.

JH: And... it looks like he's using Azaul as a... boost?

ST: With Famine as interior decorator, remember that hotel in Greece?

JH: Yeah, he's stepping on Azaul's back to boost himself up, and... look at this, he's grabbing the scaffolding by the big screen.

ST: Remember when he threw a bowling ball at someone?

JH: SHUT UP!

[There's no way an announcer can describe it. What Sabuani did was climb Azaul's back, latch onto the scaffold, and grab a foothold long enough to turn himself around. Azaul turns, and Sabuani jumps with what looks like a diving clothesline attempt, but Azaul evades backwards.]

[What's next is ingenuity.]

[Sabuani turns his body in mid-air, angles downwards, and just catches Azaul's legs in a Sunset Flip, slamming Azaul hard to the steel ramp, the back of his head hitting the ramp hard. Sabuani carries right on over, landing hard on his side, and they both lie spent.]

JH: Wow.

ST: Self-righteous suicide.

JH: That was... nuts.

ST: I cry, when angels deserve to die.

JH: Shut. UP. Would you look at these guys? What a gutsy performance there from Sub, and you've gotta give Azaul credit, if he'd been an inch further out of the way he'd probably be able to get an easy pin on Sabuani. These guys are throwing it all into this match, and somewhere in Pheonix, Wyatt Connors is salivating.

ST: Is he ever, these guys are dead, and we haven't even seen the blunt instruments yet. Five bucks says the first one is a crowbar.

JH: They're going to have to get up first.

ST: Here's a question... how the hell have Subby and Azaul been able to stay outside for so long?

JH: To me, it looks like the ref's just letting it go for the crowd, but we might have to chalk this one up to inexperience. It's the crew chief's first NWC World Title match, he gets to be a little unsure sometimes.

ST: A little unsure? These guys are going to brawl back to New York if we let them.

JH: But-

ST: Hey, I'm not complaining.

JH: Azaul's up, and I can't believe he made it up first... no, he didn't, Sabuani's on one knee, and look at this courageous performance from both men here. I'm surprised Azaul's not concussed after he hit his head like that.

ST: Azaul's walking backwards down the ramp, and it looks like he's gesturing for Sabuani to follow. He wants it back in the ring, and I don't blame him, he can at least keep tabs on Sub there.

JH: Listen to this, Rat's in Azaul's face. He wants him to go back onto the stage and "fight like a man".

ST: Which is funny because Rat probably has twice the balls Azaul does.

JH: Sabuani's not too opposed to getting back in the ring, though, and he does so in fairly short order... and now, maybe, we can get back to the W in the NWC.

ST: Whores?

JH: Die.

ST: They're locked up now, and Azaul scores with a headbutt! Rushes in, and that's another Flint... he holds on, and completes the second part of his combination, Flint and Steel!

JH: And it looks like he's going to try for the submission finisher here... let's see if Sub's Herculean endurance still holds up.

ST: Hell, if he lasted through about a million WeSTFs, this is nothing.

JH: Azaul's a tenacious bastard, though...

ST: Which means absolutely nothing when Rat Sicarii grabs Azaul's ankle and hauls him backwards with all her, what, eighty pounds behind it.

JH: That'll break it up... and now, Rat's got a chair close at hand, and she's sliding it to Sabuani, who picks it up deftly... he looks a little hesitant to use it, and he's waited too long, as he has to counter a whip with an elbow to the gut.

[The chair drops, and Rat retrieves it, deciding it would be more prudent to set it up in the opposite corner, wedged between the ropes. Gotta love rookie refs, our zebra doesn't even notice.]

JH: Another elbow... now a knee to the gut, sending Azaul down... a kneelift jerking him up, and a two-footed dropkick to the knees, sending Azaul to the mat! Great combination by the champ, elbow drop, and a pin!

ST: Good stuff, that's a cover.

For one...

Two...

JH: Nope. Sabuani's going to try and follow this up though, hauling Azaul to his feet... he's setting Azaul up for a big piledriver... no! Reversed, AGAIN, by Azaul, and he throws Sabuani down with a rolling hiptoss. Sabuani comes right back up, angered now, and he hits a dropkick...

ST: Hurrah, something that DIDN'T fail.

JH: He figures Azaul's winded enough for a small package, and he just might be...

One...

ST: No, reversed, the bastard! Azaul jerks Sub's leg around!

1...

2...

JH: Oh, we damn near had a new champion right there!

ST: Damn close, man, damn close.

JH: And Sabuani's slamming his hand down on the mat now, there's frustration for you. On his feet... whips Azaul into the ropes, and catches him on the rebound with... one hellacious backdrop driver! THAT should get something... lateral press...

1...







2....












ST: Ladies and gentlemen, Azaul has kicked out again! Hunter Sabuani thought that was slow, and I kind of agree with him...

JH: The ref just was a little late getting down, that wasn't intentional there, but wrestling is a game of hundredths of seconds.

ST: As well as many other wrestling announcer cliches, like "hellacious".

JH: Sabuani's IRKED now! Running hard at Azaul, but he's telegraphing, and Azaul drops... actually leaves his feet on the backdrop,and... oh, SHIT, he... BOUNCES off the apron and to the outside!

[This deserves a replay.]

[Slow-motion. The bodies come together, Azaul with a beautiful grip around Sabuani's waist as he comes up to vault PHS over. He leaves his feet at the top of the throw, and he's summoned enough strength to send the champ a little farther than intended, to the point where he actually clears the top rope and clips off the apron before landing, flat on his back, on the outside.]

JH: And Rat Sicarii is flat-out irate! She's helping Sabuani up to a sitting position, but Sub's coughing, he's got the wind knocked right out of him now, and we TSW fans know what Azaul's got coming next!

ST: Yep, he's on the run... and that's Azaul's signature here, the Propelsault to the outside, get out of the way Rat because here he comes!

[Azaul lands squarely.]

[Half the crowd whoops. The other crowd gasps in shock.]

[Both men are lying on the outside, spent.]

JH: Damnation, no matter who you're cheering for in this one you've gotta respect the effort brought to the table by these two men.

ST: Yeah, honestly, these guys are just nuts tonight. That was huge there from Azaul, and he's been just amazing in holding off the PHS Express.

JH: If by "holding off", you mean "holding up" - Azaul's executed his game plan to absolute perfection. This is like the first people to figure out how to beat the Rams offense - once one person does it, the whole league will, and again, Wyatt Connors must be taking good notes right now if Sabuani somehow gets out of this.

ST: And he won't breathe any easier if Azaul keeps plugging away and pulls this one out, either - as of tonight, Azaul is now firmly entrenched as a major player in the Council, brother or no brother.

JH: And speaking of Azaul...

[That's a RAAAAAAAAAH.]

JH: He's on his feet, and he's bodily hauling Sabuani into the ring now.

ST: And you wanna know something funny? That chair's still wedged in the west corner of the ring there, and that's what Azaul's aiming for... he's going for the whip, and here goes Sabua-reversed!

JH: Reversed indeed, and Sabuani, with a burst of strength, throws Azaul into that steel chair in the corner!

ST: Which side went in first... right side! Oh, that right shoulder connected hard, and Azaul's down on the mat now clutching it! The tables might just have turned!

JH: And if that doesn't do it, this sure as hell will! Sabuani's not exactly a submission wrestler, but he's got a passable cross armbreaker on right now, and although his scissoring's a little sketchy, he's yanking hard... this could very well do it!

[The crowd's chanting Azaul's name now, but Azaul looks hurt.]

JH: Now, Azaul's close to the ropes, but he's got one hand very much full, and he's got a hold of Sabuani's hand with his other... he's reaching with his legs, but he's going to have to lunge...

ST: HA!

[Azaul jerks himself straight, and his foot brushes the ropes barely.]

JH: Okay, there you go, that's your lunge. Boy, Hunter doesn't like that... I swear, two or three more seconds in that, and Azaul's gone. But the damage may have been done, Azaul's holding that arm badly...

ST: And Madison is... leaving.

[She is, too. Sicarii's pounding the mat, Hood's up beside her looking grim, yet encouraging Sabuani in his own steely way... but Madi's folded up her chair and she's just started walking up the ramp.]

ST: Wonder what the hell's up there.

JH: In any case, Azaul's up, but that shoulder is held low... Sabuani's looking to take advantage here, and he rushes in, connecting with a big right hand, followed up by an armbar try... not this time, Azaul takes over and brings Sabuani down with a classic DDT!

ST: Azaul, one of the finest technical minds in the game today, in all seriousness. This kid's good.

JH: Sabuani up slowly, looks like Azaul's going to give him a hand, and Azaul's in under the guard again... kneelift, signal! Azaul's coming with the Chicken Swing!

[Right here, about 99% of the fans are looking at the ring. The remaining 1% have noticed Miss Madison Justice, who has noticed the big screen, who has noticed that Hunter Sabuani is in trouble. She loops back towards the ring.]

[Also, Rat and Hood are both up on the apron now. Hood's not exactly inconspicuous about it either, and what does a young referee do when he sees a big man who's a big outside interest step onto the apron? He heads over to keep him out of the picture, taking his eyes off the wrestlers for a while.]

ST: And the crossface is in...

JH: Look at Hunter, he's still fighting it, Azaul's mightily trying to wrench Hunter into place, but his shoulder's giving out on him... Hunter leans onto the ropes, and they both come forward now, and MADISON JUSTICE IS ON THE APRON!

[At her feet is the chair that was propped in the corner before. She deftly snatches it up.]

JH: Hunter's broken the hold, and... HERE COMES MADI! PHS ducks, and Azaul just gets BLASTED with that steel chair!

ST: Okay, so it wasn't a crowbar, but sweet Jesus, did you see how close that came to hitting Sabuani? If that was practiced, it was a pretty goddamn perfect swing... clockwork... but that had to be too close for Madi's comfort, although she doesn't seem to be ruffled.

JH: Hunter's just dandy, and the ref's done with Hood now, turning back...

ST: And...he's obviously deaf.

JH: Azaul's reeling, staggering to his feet, holding his shoulder... HUNTER'S ON HIM! Scoops him up, and THERE IT IS! THE PERFECT ENDING! THE PERFECT ENDING TAKES THE CHALLENGER DOWN, like it has so many before!

ST: And the pin!

JH: One!









Two!















Three!




















ST: NO! HE KICKED OUT!

[Ding! Ding! Ding!]

ST: No! [bleep] Azaul kicked out of that, dammit! I've gotta see that replay... oh, MAN, that was close.

JH: Ref says three... let's take a look at it.

[Azaul did kick out of the Perfect Ending, actually, and it was a spectacular burst of energy. Thrusting his shoulder up must have sent searing pain through his body, but he did. Too bad, though, it was probably a quarter of a second after the ref's hand went down.]

JH: Oh, damn, that's tough. See what I told you, Schaefe? A game of hundredths of seconds.

ST: Oh, unbelievable. Unbelievable.

JO: Here is your winner... and still your National Wrestling Council Champion of the WORLD... Peerless!

[RAAAAH!]

JO: Hunter!

[RAAAAAAAAH!]

JO: SABUANI!

[RAAAAAAAAH!]

JH: Oh, and poor Azaul, he must be just devastated. A spent Sabuani, hand raised, nodded his head in appreciation at Azaul, but I think Azaul missed it... he's just heading back to the locker room, head hung.

ST: But listen to this!

[A-zaul! A-zaul! A-zaul!]

JH: Ladies and Gentlemen, what a night! Corpse, Dez Bradley... Ricky Masters, Might and Magic... The Unmentionables... Peerless Hunter Sabuani, and how about that Azaul? This is the National Wrestling Council at its best... and this is Tri-State Wrestling Hard Knox, signing off!

[We fade, but the audio remains for five seconds or so before it, too, fades out.]

[ A-zaul! A-zaul! A-zaul!]

[ A-zaul! A-zaul! A-zaul!]

[ A-zaul! A-zaul! A-zaul!]

[And it's gone.]