FWO Wrestling Home > FWO Events > Trapped 2000, February 26, 2000
February 26, 2000
Finn: Welcome to fWo Trapped!
Finn: Welcome to St. Louis, Missouri!
Finn: Welcome to what looks to be on paper one of the best pay-per-views the fWo has ever seen! We're live in front of a sold out crowd at the Kiel Center, I'm Chris Finn and I'm joined tonight by my colleagues James Armstrong and Shaggin' Stevie Roberts.
Roberts: Yeah, baby, yeah!
Finn: Never at a loss for words, are you guys? Nevertheless, tonight we've got four titles on the line and several matches that have extremely important ramifications. In the main event, we've got a potential match of the year candidate on our hands as The Flying Frenchie puts his coveted fWo World Title on the line against his best friend and number one contender to the strap, Primetime!
Armstrong: Indeed, Finn. Tonight, we will see the absolute best match the fWo has to offer.
Finn: It will be held inside the confines of a fifteen foot high steel cage. There literally is no way out as it will be decided by pinfall or submission only, folks. In other action, Eron The Relentless will put on his fWo Internet Title on the line against Mitch Wilson, and Stevie, Mitch sure has been on a roll lately, hasn't he?
Roberts: He sure has, baby. He picked up that win over the Frenchie on Warfare ten days ago and hasn't looked back since.
Armstrong: Stevie, it was a tainted victory. That bastard Slugger interfered and helped Wilson win. Frenchie would never lose to Wilson cleanly. Frenchie could have both his arms and legs amputated and still beat Wilson.
Finn: What's with all this negativity towards Perfect? I thought you guys were still close.
Armstrong: Chris, he wants to kill the promotion I work for. How dare he. He should be forced to listen to a Sheryl Crow album backwards, or watch fifteen consecutive episodes of that show 'Friends'.
Finn: At any rate, in addition to those matches we've got Rain and The Boston Strangler in a straightjacket match, Ric Chronos and Fallen against the Guano Apes, Courage will defend his Cruiserweight Title in a three-way dance against Ultra-Violet and Kid Cool, Dead against Chris Universal in a no holds barred falls count anywhere match, Perfect against Ice against Scott Collins, and The Underground will defend their tag team titles against The Black Panther & Havok.
Armstrong: A loaded card indeed. Say, wake me up when it's time for Frenchie & Primetime.
Roberts: James baby, I think you're ahead of yourself, tonight should be really groovy baby yeah!
Armstrong: Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just put Frenchie & Primetime in every match and I'll watch.
Finn: In any event, let's go up to Matt Panzer for the introductions of our first match.
Panzer: Thank you Chris Finn, ladies and gentlemen... welcome to fWo: Trapped 2000! We'd like to remind you - videotaping is prohibited, blinding camera flashes are A-OK, hardcore nudity is accepted and encouraged, not responsible for the actions of rampaging talent, blah blah blah you know the drill.
(6 total votes)
Panzer: The following match is a Triple Threat Elimination-Style match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, weighing two hundred and eighty-one pounds, from Parts Unknown, Ice!
Finn: Ice coming down to a positive reaction from the fans here...
Armstrong: Which just proves that they're idiots.
Roberts: Good call, baby.
Panzer: His opponent, representing the Four Riders, weighing two hundred seventy-eight pounds, from Fort Bragg, North Carolina, Scott Collins!
Finn: Collins coming out to a mixed reaction, but much of it seems positive...
Armstrong: I repeat my previous comment.
Panzer: And their opponent, representing FTfWo, weighing two hundred and forty-eight pounds, from Cooperstown, New York, Perfect!
Finn: Perfect walking to the ring here...
Armstrong: I... I don't know if I can handle this, Finn.
Finn: What do you mean?
Armstrong: It's just that for two and a half long years now Scott has been the Mr. Burns to my Smithers, the Mideon to my Viscera, the John Gotti to my Sammy Gravano... and now he's turned his back on me! Me! ME!
Finn: And the fWo.
Armstrong: Yeah, that too. The point is, Finn, why? WHY?!
Armstrong: *sniffle* If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cry now. I just can't watch this, knowing what could have been...
Finn: Well, folks, as James Armstrong... disappears under our table and begins to sob?... let's go to the ring.
Roberts: Hey, watch the hands, Armstrong you pervert!
Finn: The bell has rung, and both Collins and Ice circle Perfect... and Perfect immediately rolls to the outside to avoid their wrath. Collins and Ice shrug... and begin to hammer on each other! Perfect laughing on the outside as Collins and Ice brawl...
Finn: Ice gains the advantage and whips Collins into the ropes - huge powerslam! Cover...
Finn: And Perfect breaks it up with a slingshot legdrop to the head of Ice! Covers him...
Finn: Broken up with a sledge from Collins! Perfect up, goes for a clothesline, Collins ducks, hooks him up from behind, bridging back suplex!
Finn: And Ice breaks it up with a kick to the... uh...
Roberts: Let's just say Stone can't be too happy right now, baby.
Finn: Very true, as Perfect and Ice are now trading fisticuffs here... these two men have met twice in individual competition, and Perfect has come out on top both times. But it's Ice who gains the advantage now, and shoves Perfect into the corner.
Finn: Ice choking the life out of Perfect with a big boot, and now Collins up from behind him... german suplex!
Finn: Perfect falls from the corner and breaks it up with a headbutt to the... well, if Stone was upset before, she's gonna be pissed now...
Roberts: Does he have a big bullseye painted on or something? I suppose Stone would know...
Finn: As we contemplate *that* disgusting mental image, Collins and Perfect struggle to their feet... Collins still bent over in pain... and a rocker dropper from Perfect!
Roberts: That's a pretty fame-ass move, baby!
Finn: Yes, it i - oh, I get it now. Very witty, Stevie.
Roberts: I thought so.
Finn: Perfect brings Collins up, sends him into the corner and hits a series of stiff chops, reddening the chest of Collins. Now Perfect whips him across the ring, and directly into Ice who had been getting up!
Finn: Their heads smash together with a crack, and both men stumbling backward... Perfect sees an opportunity, leaps onto the second turnbuckle, and bulldogs Collins! Cover!
Finn: No! Perfect getting up now, contemplating his next move... and he doesn't see Ice come up from behind him and toss him over the top to the outside! Ice follows him outside, and now grabs Perfect from behind and throws him across the French announce table into the laps of the French announcers!
Finn: Ice now goes behind the table himself, and drapes the head of Perfect on top of the table. Ice climbs up on top of the table...
Roberts: Legdrop, baby! What a move!
Finn: Ice just hit a huge legdrop on Perfect, and now he's yelling to the fans! Wait a minute, he doesn't see Collins behind him with a chair!
Roberts: Ouch, baby!
Finn: Collins just hit Ice in the back with the chair, and it sends Ice in a front flip into the crowd! The ref appears to be letting these guys go here...
Roberts: Probably doesn't want to get his ass kicked by one of 'em if he calls a DQ.
Finn: Good point. After all, in the fWo, we *do* boast the world's most cowardly referees!
Roberts: And dumbest too!
Finn: And we're proud of it! Collins now climbs onto the table... waiting for Ice to get up... leaps into the crowd with a clothesline taking the big man down!
Finn: Collins now dragging him to his feet and hammering away... and Perfect appears to be up. He's on top of the French announce table... Collins now whips Ice towards the guardrail, and Perfect flies over it towards Ice! Takes him over with a hurricanrana on the concrete!
Roberts: Oh my God, baby, yeah!
Finn: And he doesn't even waste any time before getting back up and charging towards Collins! The two brawling here... Perfect gains the advantage, looks to hiptoss Collins over onto the French table, Collins reverses and Perfect smashes through the table!
Finn: Collins flexing over the guardrail to taunt the downed Perfect... Ice getting to his feet now and sees Collins... comes up behind him...
Finn: Lifts him up and hits a reverse sitdown powerbomb on the concrete!
Finn: Collins is left laying among the fans, who appear to be poking and prodding him with sharp sticks as Ice climbs over the guardrail and tosses Perfect back into the ring.
Roberts: Hey, that sounds like a good idea, Finn. Where are my sharpened sticks?
Finn: You don't have any, Stevie.
Roberts: Well, I do have one big stick, but I don't think that's the kind we're talking about.
Finn: No. It's not. Meanwhile, Ice has Perfect up in the ring, bounces off the ropes, and what a martial arts kick to the head! Perfect crumples to the mat, and Ice is on top in that UFC mount. He's raining punches down on Perfect!
Finn: Perfect appears to be busted open here, and Ice finally lets off the punches. He brings Perfect to his feet, go-behind, tiger suplex hookup!
Finn: He hits it!
Finn: No, wait, just two!
Roberts: For god's sakes, Finnce McMahon, learn to count!
Finn: Ice is signaling to the crowd that it's time to end this one, and he scoops Perfect up in a front slam position. He's setting him across the top turnbuckle! He's gonna go for the Icebreaker!
Finn: Ice climbing onto the top rope from the outside... he's up there, and he scoops up the body of Perfect. It's through, folks - last time Ice used this move, he injured the ribs of Primetime!
Finn: Ice holding him in position... leaps off! Icebreaker! Oh My God!
Roberts: Oh My God, baby, yeah!
Joey Styles: Oh My God~!
Finn: Hey... I thought we got rid of you at Twilight.
Joey Styles: Err... bye!
Finn: As that mysterious announcer makes his exit though the crowd, Ice has covered Perfect here, and it appears to be over. The bloody form of Perfect is lying out cold on the mat, and Ice has the cover.
Finn: Scott Collins pulls Ice off of Perfect from the outside!
Roberts: Why'd he do that? Wouldn't it make more sense for him to let one of his enemies get pinned and eliminated?
Finn: Yes, but that would make sense.
Roberts: Ah. I see. Stupid question, baby.
Finn: Indeed. Anyway, Collins and Ice are brawling on the outside, and Collins gains the advantage. He shoves Ice into the ring, and follows him in quickly. Ice getting slowly to his feet...
Finn: Collins hooks his throat for a chokeslam! Wait a minute... he's mouthing something?
Roberts: "Chokeslams suck"?
Finn: Well, whatever that means, Collins has throws Ice against the ropes, Ice bounces off, superkick!
Finn: Ice doesn't go down! But he is staggered... stumbling around the ring is Ice, and right into the grip of Scott Collins! Northern lights suplex!
Finn: And Perfect drags himself up to break up the count!
Roberts: But -
Finn: Shut up, Stevie.
Roberts: Whatever, baby.
Finn: Perfect dragging himself up now, and he's beginning to trade shots with Collins. Collins with the advantage, hooks Perfect up for the Death Penalty!
Finn: Ice from behind tosses Collins out! He wants Perfect for himself.
Finn: Ice brings the big right hand back... and wraps it around the throat of Perfect!
Roberts: Here it comes, baby!
Finn: Icepick coming up... Ice lifts Perfect up over his head...
Finn: Perfect hooks a hurricanrana coming down!
Finn: Reaches back and hooks both legs!
Roberts: For real this time, Chrissy?
Finn: It is, and Perfect out of pure instinct managed to eliminate Ice. What a reversal!
Roberts: But he's still got 278 pounds of pissed off Scott Collins left to deal with... and Collins is climbing back into the ring now. Perfect getting up now, sees Collins and drops to his feet to beg off, baby!
Finn: Something tells me something's not right here... Perfect backing into the corner... grabs the front of Collins' tights and pulls him in! I knew it!
Roberts: Wow, you knew Baseball Boy would cheat. Big accomplishment, Finn.
Finn: Collins stumbling out now, Perfect getting up, and heading to the top rope... he measures Collins... leaps off with a lariat!
Roberts: The Grand Slam!
Finn: Cover by Perfect...
Finn: And a kickout by Collins. Perfect brings Collins up once more, and attempts to whip him into the ropes. Reversal by Collins, Collins puts his head down, Curveball! He's beaten Collins in the past with that move...
Roberts: It's over, baby!
Finn: Cover, 1...
Finn: Kickout by Collins! Wow!
Roberts: I don't believe it, baby, yeah!
Finn: Perfect appears to be getting frustrated here, and he brings Collins up again... he's going for the Perfect Game! Hooks the head of Collins from behind, lifts him up, and Collins flips over onto his feet! Cobra clutch applied... into a suplex!
Roberts: They're both gone!
Finn: The referee beginning a ten-count here...
Finn: He's reached seven now... both men struggling up, and now they're face-to-face. Left jab blocked by Collins, belly-to-belly suplex! Collins turns Perfect over... Scotty-La-Magistral-Pinfall-Maneuver!
Finn: No! He didn't get him!
Finn: Collins brings Perfect up, hooks him for the Death Penalty! Perfect shoves him off into the ropes, leapfrogs, but Collins stops in front of him! Kick by Collins, caught by Perfect, Perfect spins him around, discus lariat by Collins ducked!
Finn: Perfect catches Collins with a kick down low as he turns around -
Roberts: Again?! Poor guy... he does sell those like a mother, though.
Finn: - Perfect hooks him up, lifts him up, Orange Crush!
Finn: Collins will not stay down here at all!
Finn: Perfect bringing Collins up... I think he's setting him for that triple powerbomb combo... but Collins powers out and backdrops Perfect up and over!
Finn: Perfect up quickly, again goes for a left jab, again blocked! Collins getting his second wind here, and he is jackhammering the living daylights out of Perfect with a series of stiff right hands! Collins backs Perfect into the ropes, whips him across...
Finn: Perfect rolls over the back of Collins and lands on his feet!
Finn: Collins with a back kick that nails Perfect low!
Roberts: Revenge on behalf of the little Scotties!
Finn: Collins double underhooks the arms of Perfect now... lifts him up in the air... he's holding him up in that tiger driver position...
Finn: Holding him...
Finn: You might want to see this, James.
Armstrong: Huh? Is it safe to come out now? Is Scott gone?
Finn: In a manner of speaking.
Finn: My God, a tiger driver!
Roberts: A familiar fan at ringside looks like he's having an embolism! Screaming something about "He better not kick out!"?
Finn: There's the cover by Scott Collins...
Finn: 3! 3! Scott Collins pulls off the victory and puts Perfect in one of the sickest moves I've ever seen in my career...
Armstrong: And he deserved it too!
Finn: Here come the paramedics to stabilize the neck of Perfect... and they're stretchering him out here. The ringside fan appears to be happy at this turn of events...
Roberts: Perfect being put in the move, Perfect being stretchered out, or Perfect not kicking out?
Finn: All three, I think.
Roberts: Ah, baby.
Finn: Let's go up to Matt Panzer for more introductions.
(5 total votes)
Armstrong: Boo! When the hell does Frenchie/Primetime happen?
Panzer: Thank you James Armstrong. Next up is a match to determine the number one contenders to the fWo World Tag Team Titles! First off, in his pay-per-view debut... from Cincinnati, Ohio he weighs in at two hundred and eighty five pounds, he is Ric Chronos!
Panzer: And his tag team partner hails from Gallup, New Mexico and weighs in at two hundred and forty seven pounds, he is the man known only as Fallen!
Finn: As they make their way out, these two share a very strange relationship.
Armstrong: Kinda like you and those porno magazines of yours.
Panzer: And their opponents are from San Diego, California and Miami, Florida respectively. They weigh in at a combined weight of over five hundred and eighty pounds, they are Sphere & Jackhammer, the Guano Apes!
Armstrong: Stoopid Apes.
Finn: Fans, it appears are next match is about to get underway, as Sphere and Jackhammer, the Guano Apes, are coming down to ringside.
Armstrong: Why do they even bother, Finn? These "Shit Monkeys" might as well stay in back and forfeit the match, and spare us all the agony of having to watch them.
Finn: Both Jackhammer and Sphere are longtime competitors in the fWo, and they both have what it takes to win this match.
Roberts: I'll say, baby. The big guy's a former three-time tag team champion, and he held his own, baby.
Finn: That's an excellent observation, Stevie.
Roberts: Yeah baby!
Finn: They appear to be set in the ring now, and already in the ring are Fallen and Ric Chronos. Fallen looking bad tonight
(3 total votes)
Finn: Yeah yeah, whatever James. Up next -
Armstrong: Frenchie & Primetime, I hope?
Finn: No, we've still got a ways to go before that one. Let's send it up to Matt Panzer for the introductions of our three-way battle for the Cruiserweight Title!
Panzer: Thanks, Chris! Our next match is scheduled for one fall and is for the fWo Cruiserweight Title! First one of the challengers... he hails from Orlando, Florida and weighs two hundred and three pounds, he is Kid Cool!
Armstrong: The only smart thing this lunatic ever did was get trained by the Frenchie. Silly bastard.
Finn: C'mon now, James. His dad died just a month ago. Have you forgotten already?
Armstrong: He did? Who was his dad?
Finn: James... don't joke around here.
Armstrong: No, who was it?
Finn: Uh... it was Beaven, remember?
Armstrong: Who? Oh, yeah. That shmuck. I remember him. Whatever happened to him, anyways?
Finn: You're impossible.
Panzer: And the other challenger hails from Fort Bragg, North Carolina and weighs in at two hundred and thirty nine pounds, he is the fWo's resident purple haired nice guy, he is Ultra-Violet!
Armstrong: Purple haired nice guy? Ugh. Panzer just keeps getting worse.
Panzer: And now... the champion. He hails from San Jose, California but resides in Paris, France. He weighs in at two hundred and forty two pounds, representing the French Foundation, he is the man known only as Courage!
Finn: Courage makes his way out to an resounding reaction of boos from the crowd, the fans clearly do not like his pompous attitude one bit!
Finn: With all three men in the ring now, we can get this one underway.
Finn: Athleticism and pure adrenaline will be a prevalent factor in this one, with all three of these men looking to walk into Slaughter with the Cruiserweight belt about their waist.
Finn: Ultra Violet is a former Cruiser champion himself, among other personal achievements, and Kid Cool is hungry for his first taste of singles gold, having worn half of the tag team championship with none other than one of his now most despised rivals, Ultra Violet. A man who stands before him.
Armstrong: Violet of course, the woman who led to the rift between these two. Yet enough about these wannabe Cruiser contenders, if you would go as far as calling them that. Courage is in the ring. Enough said.
Finn: Well, there is more to this match then Courage, though at Invasion!, he proved many wrong in toppling a then nearly invincible Havok.
Armstrong: Where is there more?
Finn: Nonetheless, I have had quite the tough time giving the nod to either of these men, each bringing their own individual strengths to the table, and at the same time, looking to exploit the other's weaknesses.
Roberts: Talent aside, we have three undeniably dynamic, yet diverse personalities clashing right here tonight; head to head.
Armstrong: One more in there Stevie; to head. Three way action, with Courage one step ahead, well a big one step ahead of the rest. My bottom dollar on Courage, all they way.
Finn: Bottom dollar James?
Armstrong: Figuratively speaking, of course.
Finn: Yeah, sure wink wink. Anyhow, to the action now about to unfold right in front of us. Kid Cool, with a brash approach, marching right up to UV and sticking an accusatory finger into his face. UV, not taking a liking to this, and shoves Kid Cool away from him.
Armstrong: Cat fight?
Finn: Er no. Kid Cool now with his feathers ruffled, looks to march right back. But no, Courage entering our picture, grabbing Cool by his arm and whipping him to the ropes. Cool into them, and look at this. Up and over them onto the apron, but the control is not there. Cool's momentum carrying him right off the apron and precariously now onto the guardrail with a sickening smack.
Roberts: Kissing the guardrail, that is. Good morning, good afternoon, and good night, baby. Kid Cool with a less than impressive performance early on.
Finn: Did you see his head ricocheting off that unforgiving guardrail? That'll leave a mark.
Armstrong: And who sent him to that predictable "grave"? Courage. No surprise there.
Finn: So with Cool now out of the picture, we have Ultra and Courage looking to throw down. They dance a bit before locking up right smack dab in the center of the ring.
Roberts: Looking for leverage, baby. None to be found however and Courage breaks away and decides to test his luck off the ropes.
Armstrong: Quick thinking exhibited by the man with a plan. Back off, and he meets Ultra Violet who stops his momentum, once more in the center of the ring, and again they lock up. Courage carrying UV through this one early.
Finn: I'd hardly call it carrying, however now Ultra Violet gaining the upper hand, from the tie-up raising a knee right into Courage's ribs. And one more. Now grabbing Courage's arm, he slings him into the corner.
Roberts: Zipping by, baby. Courage meets the turnbuckle and now UV immediately right in after him, delivering an elbow to Courage, in turn cementing him to the turnbuckle. Courage is not feeling like flowers right now.
Armstrong: I doubt he is as well, Stevie. Courage drunkenly stumbles out of the corner, only to be met oh my. Guys in the back, go to break.
Finn: No breaks James. UV meets Courage with a side headlock and leaps forward, driving Courage's face to the canvas with a leaping bulldog that has the crowd on their feet and showing their support for their purple-haired hero.
Armstrong: Stevie, cover you ears. This is simply repulsive. UV drops for the cover, yet I hardly see him garnering a one count.
Armstrong: And now he will easily slide from beneath the cover.
Roberts: Er nope.
Armstrong: For the love of god kick out.
Finn: Thr but denied. UV had victory in his grasp, yet Courage regains his bearings at the last possible second and escapes defeat and keeps his hopes of winning alive.
Armstrong: As if they were ever in question. UV had victory? I don't think so. You can't keep a good man down. Certainly not a great one.
Roberts: UV now resorting to plan "b". Lifts Courage to his feet, and follows through with a mean-looking Headbutt, baby. Courage certainly not looking to champion-like at the moment.
Finn: It is UV's turn to take to the ropes, and he does so, only to be met on the return by the outstretched sole of Courage's leather boot. UV's attack halted and now Courage looks to capitalize. He brings his arm around with a clothesline only to come up empty as UV recovers and nimbly ducks it.
Finn: Now UV turns his attention towards Courage who spins around to face him, and promptly decks him with a clothesline of his own.
Armstrong: Things have gone a bit awry, as this so-called pay per view extravaganza has veered sharply in the wrong direction. Yet fear not, for Courage carries a big heart and the talent to match, unlike Kid Cool, who remains as active as a sack of potatoes at ringside.
Finn: Kid Cool, after that blunder that ended up leaving him apparently unconscious, does remain out like a light.
Roberts: This after he became just a bit to chummy with the guardrail he lies slumped in front of. I can still feel it, baby.
Finn: With Courage on his back, Ultra Violet is looking to climb the turnbuckle now and cash in on a vulnerable Courage. He reaches the top, and looks to fly as the crowd now tearing the top off of the Kiel Center. And off the top turnbuckle, zeroing in on Courage, and striking with a flying Headbutt that catches Courage in the chest and has him writhing in convulsions on the mat, all due to that daring maneuver.
Armstrong: Daring, yes. Stupid, yes. Kind of nice looking, yes once more. Will it work? The answer to that one would be no. We see UV looking for the cover, but why?
Finn: Thr and an oh so close pin-fall victory for UV. Courage, hanging on by a thin thread, manages to hold off defeat for a second time tonight.
Roberts: I was all ready for a java break Finn. Courage not going to give in, baby. UV scratches his head confused. Same feeling here. How could Courage have kicked out, champion and all.
Finn: UV pointing to the turnbuckle, a look of uncertainty on his face. The crowd is urging him to climb it again. He wavers between keeping this one on the mat and skying another time. Decibel level in here rising, and he chooses the turnbuckle once more.
Roberts: Bad move, UV. Lightning never strikes twice, baby.
Armstrong: That would be three times, brother, yet can't disagree with you. UV thinking he's a superstar. Off he goes once more with a flying Headbutt and would you look at that. Courage rolling cleanly away and UV has canvas between his teeth.
Finn: Ultra Violet gambling and looking to put the icing on the cake. The cake unfortunately moved just in time, and now UV is the one in pain, and Courage sees the tables slowly turning in his direction.
Armstrong: A welcome sight it is. Courage hauls up UV and ties-up. Extending backwards quickly with a snap suplex that whips Ultra head-over-heels. He keeps his hold on UV and exhibits awesome ability, now with UV in position for one more snap suplex.
Finn: And there it is. Courage holds on again and rises, connecting beautifully with a third snap suplex in a row.
Roberts: I'm all dizzy now, baby. Courage with some nifty maneuvers to gain the edge. Now drops an elbow to UV's head. He is up, and now one more for good measure. Courage is truly rocking UV's world, baby.
Finn: Now UV is dizzied and helpless as Courage "helps" him to his feet. Let me slip this in, for anyone interested, that Kid Cool remains incapacitated at ring-side after toppling over the top rope just seconds in, and then smacking his head off of the guardrail.
Armstrong: Like anyone gives a damn about Cool. Boy Wonder? Yeah, right. He had his head in the clouds and Courage just brought him back down to the real world. Swinging for the fences, and whiffing badly.
Roberts: Fences? James, nowhere do I see these fences you talk of.
Finn: Metaphorically speaking, Stevie. Back to the ring. Courage now hooks a leg and looks to eliminate UV.
Finn: and not enough to put down UV for the three-count. He kicks out at two and Courage must reassess the situation.
Finn: Now UV on his feet, slightly shaken, facing Courage. Courage lashes out with a right to UV's jaw. He stumbles back, but just comes back for more, in the process clobbering Courage with two of his own rights.
Armstrong: Courage, however, strikes back and the two begin to trade blows.
Roberts: Back and forth action, baby. Courage connects squarely on UV, and now Ultra fires back with a chain of his own.
Finn: Finally, UV grabs the advantage, and lunges at Courage with a knee that finds its way to his gut. Courage doubled over and UV follows up, grabbing his neck, and twisting around before dropping to the mat with a brutal Neckbreaker.
Armstrong: Courage is simply underestimating the ability of UV, or overestimating the lack thereof.
Finn: I think only you are the one underestimating UV. Just look at his past and tell me he doesn't have the stuff. Heck, he even wore this company's highest prize once.
Armstrong: I think you better watch running your mouth like that before I take your momma's boy behind and kick it good.
Finn: At least I didn't go off and screw the company over, then get myself fired.
Armstrong: You want to say that again Finn? How about trying that with my fist down your throat.
Roberts: Boys, boys. Spread the love, kill the violence, baby. Finn, cut the tough guy act. James, let the beef slide.
Finn: I just might take you up on that offer yet for now, Ultra uses an Irish whip to send Courage to the ropes. Courage evades Ultra and heads off the opposite ropes, returning and sliding successfully right between the wickers and through UV's legs.
Finn: Popping up to his feet, he grabs hold of UV and brings him hurtling back to the mat with a Russian Legsweep, UV unfortunate as he is brought uncouthly to the canvas.
Roberts: Hey, guys...
Finn: Not now, Stevie. Crunch time. Courage has Ultra Violet grounded and at his mercy. He walks up to the ropes.
Roberts: No, really. Take a look
Armstrong: Stevie, it can wait. You are witnessing history, albeit so inevitable. Courage just seconds away no, check that. Courage springing off of the second rope and knifing through the air with a Courage Required springboard moonsault, flattening a defenseless UV in the process.
Roberts: Good Samaritan, baby. A nice front row fan sprinkling a bit of water on Kid Cool, and he seems to be stirring. Yeah, baby.
Finn: Hold that thought Stevie. Courage just executed his finisher and now drops for the cover.
Finn: The one, two and three registered by the referee, and UV's time is up. A valiant showing, yet Courage displayed just that, and rallied from behind to eliminate one of two foes.
Armstrong: Key word two foes. All he has to do is pin that idiot
Finn: And Kid Cool from nowhere slides into the rings and using a school boy maneuver has wrapped up an oblivious Courage who was simply looking for Cool after pinning UV.
Armstrong: That did not just happen.
Finn: It most certainly, however implausible, did.
Roberts: Underdog with the gift-wrapped "w", baby. Courage took care of UV, and Kid Cool awoke at just the right time, capturing fWo gold.
Armstrong: This is simply where is the ring official. Count-out? Anything. Disqualification by no move? This is a joke.
Finn: An unorthodox method of victory it may be, yet there is no denying that Kid Cool was able to hold down Courage for the three-count, and in turn well, Kid Cool is the rightful Cruiser champion. He has taken advantage of an opportunity of a life-time, and has the gold to back it up.
Armstrong: Finn. We cool?
Finn: Yes James; we cool.
Finn: Er, I guess. I guess I be down with that.
Armstrong: Uh, you're definitely not down with the hood, my brother.
Finn: Whatever... at any rate... that sure was an interesting match...
Armstrong: Saved only by the performance of Courage, no doubt. Damn Kid Cool. He's a Beaven, so what do you expect?
Finn: Now now, James. At any rate, our next contest is sure to be intriguing. It involves a newly formed rivalry between Rain and The Boston Strangler. With some cohesing from Dead, Rain has targeted The Strangler, and their war comes to a head tonight here at Trapped.
Roberts: A Straightjacket Match, baby. A very dangerous, dangerous match. Expect all the rules to be broken, but then again, rules were MADE to be broken, baby, yeah!
Armstrong: Yeah, Stevie. Hey, anyone got any Vodka?
Finn: Let's go up to Matt Panzer for the intros of both men.
Panzer: Ladies and gentlemen, our next match will be a Straightjacket Match! Introducing first, he hails from Hollywood, California and stands at over seven feet six inches tall while weighing just a tad over three hundred and twenty pounds... he is the man who claims to hold the power of the storm... he is... Rain!
Finn: And listen to that massive ovation of jeers echoing throughout the Kiel Center as Rain makes his way out onto the stage.
Armstrong: Boo. Where's Frenchie & Primetime already?
Finn: James, you know their match isn't until later tonight.
Armstrong: Yeah, well, until then, I'm going to go backstage, I'm going to find me some blackjack... I'm going to find me some hookers... I'm going to find me some vodka... and I'm going to have the best damn night there ever was. Well, aside from last night and the party in Kansas City... and aside from the night before in Pensacola... and the night before that in New Orleans...
Finn: You have quite the night life, I gather?
Armstrong: Oh yeah, I'm the Dennis Rodman of wrestling, brother.
Finn: Please. You know, I've never noticed this before as you see Rain climb into the ring, but anyways, I never realized just how much resemblance you bear to Dead.
Armstrong: What? What? That nut is not as handsome as I am. That nut is a bonafied, stamped, sealed and delivered piece of garbage! I have to fend the women off with a stick, you know. I'm that damn good.
Finn: Yeah, whatever. You still look like Dead, wouldn't you agree, Stevie?
Roberts: Please leave my name out of this thread, er, discussion... baby.
Finn: Whatever you say. Nevertheless, as Rain is welcomed here with a resounding chorus of jeers the sound of O' Fortuna can only mean one thing...
Armstrong: We're all going to fall asleep until Primetime & Frenchie wrestle?
Finn: No, James.
Armstrong: Oh. My bad. Props to you for pointing that out, my brother.
Finn: More ghetto talk, James?
Armstrong: I'm down with the hood, G.
Finn: Sigh. Let's go up to Panzer for the intro of The Boston Strangler.
Panzer: And his opponent is from Boston, Massachusetts and he weighs in at two hundred and seventy eight pounds... he is the man who has honored the fWo by serving and protecting it diligently for years, he is The Boston Strangler!
Finn: Listen to the crowd! The mere appearance of the Strangler provokes a deafening reaction from the fans!
Armstrong: The mere appearance of that nut gives me the willies, Finn.
Roberts: Me too, baby. That Strangler is a few... thousand megabytes short of a gig, baby!
Finn: And the Strangler has brought with him a straightjacket!
Armstrong: Kinky. Hey, I once used a straightjacket with that stripper from Miami...
Armstrong: Yeah, how'd you know?
Roberts: Lucky guess, baby...
Finn: I don't believe this. You're both ridiculous. The Strangler paces down to ringside, focused on his opponent inside the ring. The man known only as Rain.
Armstrong: Remember that group Vanilla Manilli?
Finn: I think it was Milli Vanilli, but yes, go on.
Armstrong: Whatever, Finn, shut your piehole. Anyways, if this match sucks, we can always... blame it on the rain, yeah, yeah...
Finn: Ugh. No more singing, please!
Armstrong: Are you jealous of my beautifully sounding voice, Finn?
Finn: Not quite. The Strangler enters the ring and the referee goes over the rules of the match with both men.
Armstrong: Hey, what are the rules exactly? Since Sylvia's not involved in this one, I'm not up to date on the rules.
Finn: I believe one man must punish the other enough and then shove them in the straightjacket to win.
Armstrong: Well, I've an idea. Why not punish their opponent by forcing them to sit through a card that nobody cares about with the exception of Frenchie & Primetime? I mean, we have to go through it, shouldn't everyone else? It's only fair.
Finn: Remember, the only way to win this match is to put the straightjacket on your opponent.
Armstrong: Ah, seeing that straightjacket reminds me of that night in Florida with Sylvia. She sure was a fine piece of tail, let me tell you...
Armstrong: I had her bent over...
Finn: Enough already.
Armstrong: And I was about ready to pull out the big Jimmy and give it to her...
Finn: ENOUGH ALREADY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!
Roberts: Hey, look, a match is going on in the ring, baby. Let's call the action.
Finn: Ahem. Excuse me, Stevie, I was trying to do that. Strangler and Rain in the center of the ring now, and I can't hear what the two men are saying to each other, but I'm sure it isn't nice.
Armstrong: I bet they're talking about how much this card sucks and how they should both spontaneously combust in the ring so we can move onto the World Title Match.
Finn: Rain with a shove, and Strangler doesn't budge. He responds with a shove as well... and now Rain with a punch, and another, and another, but Strangler blocks... and responds with five consecutive right hands of his own! And we're underway as the referee signals for the bell!
Finn: Strangler with another attempted punch, but Rain counters with a quick shot to the midsection with a high knee. Now he follows it up by taking the insane individual from Beantown and slamming him head first into the turnbuckle a few times. Rain brings Strangler near the ropes and begins using the top rope to choke the Strangler.
Armstrong: Smart attack on the part of Rain. Taking away his supply of oxygen is a smart move.
Roberts: Indeed, baby, yeah!
Finn: The referee can't even warn him about it because it's not against the rules. And now Rain brings the Strangler away from the ropes and takes him down with a short arm clothesline. This is going to be a brutal match from the looks of things, and we've just begun.
Armstrong: Indeed. Rain now using his massive boot to choke The Strangler out, and the Strangler trying to shove him off, but Rain is too big, and weighs too much for The Strangler to push him off, especially in the position he's in.
Roberts: Right you are James baby. I've been in that ring before and I know what it's like to have a man making you his proverbial bitch, so to speak baby, with his foot! Not a good thing at all, baby.
Finn: Rain continuing on the offensive, he brings the Strangler up and chops him across the chest, and the fans acknowledge it with oohs and 'aahs'. Rain with another chop, and now he whips Strangler into the turnbuckles. He charges in with a clothesline, but Strangler grabs him by the arm and takes him to the mat quickly for a Boston Massacre! If he locks it in, it's OVER!
Finn: But Rain quickly escapes and goes to the outside to catch his breath... and now... oh my god... Strangler up over the top rope with a suicide plancha! What a move!
Armstrong: I don't like either of these men but that move was absolutely breathtaking!
Roberts: It's easy to see that both men are going to pull out all the stops in this one, baby.
Finn: Strangler now may have injured his knee as he gets up and pulls Rain up by the hair, and hell... rather than choke him with his foot or via use from the ring rope he's going to use an electrical cord from the several dozen that are about here at ringside! And now Strangler's choking him out, slowly... methodically... boy, these two men hate each other. I don't know what Dead said to Rain a few weeks back on Warfare but he's taking his frustration out on the Strangler because of it.
Finn: Right now, however, it's the other way around as Strangler continues to choke him out... Rain grasping at the cord trying his absolute damnedest to break free. Rain breaks free with a mulekick!
Armstrong: Oooh. That. Wasn't. Very. Good.
Roberts: No. It. Sure. Wasn't. Baby.
Finn: Strangler clutching at his injured gonads, and now Rain follows by grabbing him by the hair and taking him near a guardrail... and suplexing him through the guardrail, which collapses in turn!
Finn: No fans were nearby, but even if they were, I'd like to remind them that as it states on the back of their ticket we would not be held responsible for any damage. That may have been an irrational move on the part of Rain, since his back is hurting now as well, although Strangler appears to have been on the worse end.
Finn: Rain now grabs Strangler up and brings him near another portion of guardrail... and he's hooking him for another suplex. The Strangler blocks it, however... Rain attempts it again, and his attempt is again thwarted. Strangler however hooks him and sets him on the guardrail crotch first!
Armstrong: Rain. Shouldn't. Expect. To. Have. Kids.
Roberts: No. He. Shouldn't.
Finn: And now Strangler clotheslines him off the guardrail which sends him back on the "safe" side. Strangler is on the offensive now, pulling Rain up by his locks of hair and tossing him into the steel steps with ease! And now he procures himself a chair and whacks Rain in the back!
Finn: And again!
Finn: And one more time! Thwack!
Armstrong: Huh. Wonder what the Gods of the Storm think about that shot to their back.
Finn: Strangler now pulls Rain up and rolls him into the ring. The Strangler follows him in and it appeared as if the Strangler was going to go for the pin, but I'd like to remind you all that there are no pinfalls in this match.
Armstrong: I'd like to remind you that this and every other match that doesn't include Frenchie, Primetime or Courage sucks.
Finn: Strangler now measuring Rain and he hits a legdrop. Not the most feared move in the business, but it shall do. Strangler now on the offense, and he brings Rain up to his feet. He whips him into the turnbuckle and follows in with an elbow. And another. And now he brings him near the middle section of the ropes and whips him across... Rain returns and there's a sleeperhold! Brilliant move on the part of the Strangler!
Roberts: Indeed, baby, yeah! If The Strangler can capitalize on this, he could put Rain to sleep and then that would allow him to put Rain in the straightjacket.
Armstrong: Huh. How odd. I never had to put Sylvia asleep to get her in the straightjacket.
Finn: Is that all you think about, James? Sex?
Armstrong: Yeah. Of course. That and blackjack... booze... and hookers!
Finn: Rain now feeling the affects of the sleeperhold... his eyes are wide shut... and now the Strangler sensing that this one is over.
Armstrong: Thank God. Isn't Frenchie & Primetime up next?
Finn: We've still got about four matches after this one...
Armstrong: Well, can't we just forget about those matches and move onto the reason everyone is here for?
Finn: But wait... Rain's eyes are open but the Strangler doesn't see this... and now he reaches down deep inside and somehow finds the strength to escape by dropping down and taking the Strangler out with a jawbreaker!
Finn: I sense that Rain must've got that burst of energy and that sudden burst of adrenaline from the Gods of the Storm.
Armstrong: Either that or he wasn't really asleep to begin with and was faking it.
Armstrong: But you tell us, Finn. You're used to people "faking" things.
Finn: Shut YOUR piehole, James! One more word outta you and... hey look, both men are out in the ring now, and the referee can't let this one go on all night, so he's going to lay down the law with a ten count.
Armstrong: Frenchie. Primetime. Now. Okay?
Finn: The referee now up to four...
Finn: And at the count of six Rain begins to move... Strangler beginning to show signs of movement as well. Rain up... Strangler up... and they see each other and charge... and there's a clothesline! Both men must've had the same exact thought as they both went for a clothesline, and now both men are down and out in the ring, and the referee laying down another ten count.
Armstrong: Two four six eight who do we appreciate? FRENCHIE!
Armstrong: One three five seven blah blah blah blah blah blah! PRIMETIME!
Finn: It's amazing how you ever got past college. It's amazing how you ever got INTO college. Did you even graduate from high school for that matter?
Armstrong: Hey, Finn, I brought you into the fWo, remember, I can take you out.
Finn: No, you can't, James.
Armstrong: If it weren't for me you'd still be asleep on a park bench, pal. You owe me. So I suggest you go in there and kick everyone's ass and clear the ring so Frenchie & Primetime can come out here and put on the match of the year.
Finn: Referee now up to seven... and Rain pulls himself up via use of the ropes... Strangler getting up on his own accord... Strangler charges and Rain grabs him by the hair and throws him up over the top rope onto the cement floor!
Finn: Rain now taking his time... he's not moving as quick as he was earlier in this match-up. Rain climbs over the top rope onto the ring apron... and as the Strangler reaches his feet Rain charges and dives and takes him down with a lariat from the ring apron! What a maneuver!
Roberts: Wow! I don't think I've ever seen anything like that from Rain before, baby! He seems hell-bent on winning this match and is pretty much going to do whatever it takes to put The Strangler in that straightjacket!
Finn: And if you remember it was just this past Wednesday that Rain put the Strangler in the straightjacket on Warfare.
Armstrong: The fans don't remember, Finn. Wrestling is no place for memories with long people, okay?
Finn: I think you've messed up your words there, James. Both men out on the floor... Rain looking worse for wear after that one, but Strangler seems to be in poorer condition. Rain grabs Strangler up by the hair and slams him head first into the guardrail. Rain now grabbing The Strangler and raking him across the eyes...
Finn: Rain sends Strangler towards a guardrail with an Irish whip... but Strangler reverses it... and Rain reverses it once more into a short-arm clothesline! He used that earlier in the match, and I think he can sense this one's all but over from here if he hits a big impact move, that could be enough to put the Strangler in that straightjacket.
Finn: Speaking of that... Rain pulling Strangler up... and now he hooks him... and there's a powerbomb on the outside! The Rainmaker!
Armstrong: Boo! Rain rain, go away, come back some other day.
Finn: The Strangler' head bounces off the cement floor... and he's had this move done to him before by Primetime a month or so ago. And Rain now rolls the Strangler into the ring, and I think he's positive it's all over. The seven-foot two inch giant of a man now walking over to the corner and retrieving the straightjacket... it appears as if he's going to win this one.
Armstrong: Pah. Oh well. At least that moves us one step closer to the two men who put all of these asses in the seats.
Armstrong: You know, if you can't put asses in the seats you've got no business in wrestling, brother.
Finn: Rain attempting to put the Strangler in the straightjacket... but The Strangler attempting to escape... and... oh my... there's a shot to the little Rainies!
Finn: And now with Rain bent over the Strangler gets up and locks in that Boston Massacre from behind! He's got it locked in this time and Rain can't escape!
Roberts: The crossface chickenwing is the most dangerous submission move in wrestling, Finn!
Finn: Rain is tapping but he can't LOSE the match that way.
Finn: Strangler's got it locked in, and locked in good. This one's over because if Rain can't use his arms he won't be able to fend off from being put in the straightjacket!
Finn: Wait a minute... that's Chris Universal on the stage! And he's got a chair!
Armstrong: Oh wow, a chair! What's he going to do, sit down and watch?
Finn: I think he has revenge in mind for what occurred on Warfare... and now Universal into the ring... and there's a chairshot to the head of Rain as Strangler releases the Massacre! And now another shot to the head!
Finn: And now Universal & The Strangler bringing Rain up by the hair, there's a kick to the stomach and a Cha-Ching! And it's all legal because neither man can lose until one of them is put in the straightjacket!
Armstrong: Although Universal and that nut make for the odd couple of the fWo, this is a very strategic move on their part.
Finn: Universal and that nut, I mean Strangler now beginning to put the straightjacket on Rain... and they've got it on him, but this one isn't over until he's for sure strapped in...
Finn: And he's in! This one's over as the referee calls for the bell! The fans love it! Rain got what was coming to him!
Armstrong: Hey, didn't you say that Frenchie & Primetime are up next? I believe you did...
Finn: Enough, James, enough. Rain locked in that straightjacket as he sits on the mat and he's furiously trying to escape... but the Strangler and Universal simply let him be as Universal exits the ring to a nice ovation from the crowd. Later tonight he'll be facing Dead in that NHBFCA...
Finn: No holds barred falls count anywhere. Duh.
Finn: Universal and the Strangler head backstage... but coming in from the crowd is Dead, and he doesn't look to happy... Rain looking up at him hoping he'll help him out of that Straightjacket... but... I don't think Dead's going to do that.
Armstrong: You're probably right.
Finn: Dead yelling at Rain now and Rain arguing that it took two men to put him in the straightjacket. Dead's heard enough, however, and he grabs the chair and whacks Rain across the face!
Finn: What in the hell did he do that for?
Finn: Dead now giving him the double finger before exiting the ring to a loud rendition of boos from the crowd, and Rain is left in the ring unconscious as Dead disappears into the backstage area. Rain will have to be helped out of the ring, and while some officials come down to do just that I'd like to take this time to shill, er, talk about our next pay-per-view called "Body Count".
(4 total votes)
Finn: Coming to you live on pay-per-view on March 25 from Indianapolis, Indiana at the brand new facility known as the Conesco Fieldhouse where the Indiana Pacers of the National Basketball Association play. The details of Body Count are somewhat sketchy but I can tell you that it will be a battle royal type event with some intriguing rules that have never been done before in our sport, and there is talk that the winner will go onto CyberSlam to face the fWo World Champion whomever it may be.
Finn: Speaking of CyberSlam, tickets go on sale on March 1 and this year it will be held in Seattle, Washington from Safeco Field where the Seattle Mariners play. Now, Safeco Field has a retractable roof so should the weather be unkind on that day well, the roof will be beneficial in that case.
Armstrong: Yawn. Frenchie & Primetime up yet?
Finn: Safeco Field sits over forty-five thousand, and it's sure to be a sellout so I suggest you get in line and get your tickets early for that one. I'm sure they'll open up the field so there will be a lot more people there. CyberSlam will be on April 29, and plans are already in the works concerning the card.
Finn: Rain has been helped from the ring now, and we're ready for our next battle which should be a very... well James, we now come to... well... I'm not sure what to expect here. This match was started when... well... I'm not sure exactly how this rivalry between the Mad Trucker and Machina first took off, but it's manifesting itself in what is being called a "Bond" match here tonight.
Armstrong: Look Finn, what you do in the bathroom with the water running over a copy of the Sears catalog has no business here.
Finn: That's not what that means at all... I'm just trying to say that...
Roberts: Listen baby... it's all cool, I do it myself all the time baby, yeah! A little cricket with the old kibbles and bits baby, yeah!
Finn: I... but... anyway... what has happened is that tonight the Mad Trucker and Machina will face each other in a "Bond match". Now the exact rules are unknown to us, but we do know that it will be a no-dq match, and that weapons are allowed at ringside. Ladies and gentlemen, let's go up tothe ring announcer and... wait a minute! Up on the balcony it's Machina! What is he doing there? And why is he dressed in a tuxedo?
Armstrong: He's getting himself a snack! Hey, great idea Machina, bring something down for us!
Finn: But wait! It looks like Machina doesn't have any money to pay for it... and now the shopkeep is coming around the counter to grab him! Machina's in trouble here!
Armstrong: He's picking up a chair... is he going to hit the shopkeeper with it?
Finn: No! He's running to the edge of the balcony now, and he's tossing the chair up onto the railing! He's jumping onto the chair, and the arena security is in hot pursuit! But Machina on top of the chair and... well, he's surfing down the railing on top of that chair! Sparks flying off andigniting the Trapped banners hanging from the second tier of the arena, and a fire is breaking out!
Armstrong: Security is down at the first floor and they are going to get him when he hits the ground... and someone get this fire put out!
Finn: Machina down on the ground and security is rushing him, but a quick dive and he slides under their legs... security tangled up now as Machina back on his feet making a dash for the ring... but wait, he's stopping near the third row! But why?
Armstrong: Wow... look at that incredible babe next to Machina!
Finn: Machina flirting with the woman in the third row, and you've got to wonder if Penny knows about this...
Roberts: Hey... you hear a rumbling baby?
Finn: There is some noise coming from the backstage area... sounds like a car of some kind!
Armstrong: Oh no! Look at what's coming down to the ring!
Finn: Why, that's a black plated BMW diesel truck... and it could only be driven by one person...
Finn: It's the Trucker, behind the wheel of that special made BMW diesel truck... and what's this? The headlights appear to be swinging away to reveal twin cannons! It's firing... and some kind of net exploding from the cannons toward Machina! He's trapped under that netting!
Armstrong: No he isn't! He's got what looks like a infra-red laser hidden in his pocket watch! He's cutting himself free from the net!
Finn: You're right James, and Machina now pulling himself out of the netting as the Mad Trucker exits his special BMW truck and moves in for the attack. The Mad Trucker has some sort of remote control device, and it looks like he's programming the truck to run interference around ringside!
Roberts: All these fans better move, baby!
Finn: The fans running to get out of the way, but the fire that started out on the second floor of the arena appears to be raging out of control and blocking their exit! My god... they are all going to be burned alive!
Armstrong: No, look! The Trucker is pulling off one of his boots, and it appears to have been modified to contain a fire extinguisher!
Finn: The Trucker spraying down the fire, but he doesn't see Machina coming from behind! Machina has taken off his belt and by the look of it there has been modifications made to it to contain a special alloy garrote! He's got it around the Trucker's neck!
Roberts: It's not going to work, baby... the Trucker's flannel shirt has been enhanced with that swinging Kevlar mesh baby, yeah!
Finn: The Trucker with a back elbow to the chest that sends Machina back, but now Machina holding up that pocket watch of his once more, and a strange smoke escaping it. Why, that looks like sleeping gas, James!
Armstrong: That's exactly what it is, and I'd like to see that big dumb Trucker get out of this!
Finn: He's taking off his hat... is he going to use it to help him breathe? No! He's tossing it, and as we can now see the rim of his hat has a special metal insert that looks sharp! The hat striking the pocket watch and shattering it into a million pieces! Machina has to back up now... but thebig BMW truck has blocked his path!
Armstrong: The Trucker now back over to put out the fire, and Machina is really trapped here, Finn!
Finn: You could say that this event is really... TRAPPING... couldn't you?
Armstrong: That's really not very funny.
Finn: But don't you see, the name of the event is...
Armstrong: Again, not funny.
Roberts: Yeah, that's like stroking with a sheet of sandpaper baby, not funny at all.
Armstrong: Not funny.
Finn: Well fine. Machina still in a tight situation, you might say TRAPPED...
Armstrong: No more, please.
Finn: Trapped between the Trucker and the BMW diesel... but wait, Machina running toward the big machine, and now somersaulting toward it... striking the truck and running up the side, twisting around, flipping and back on his feet!
Armstrong: But he's still stuck between the Trucker and the truck. That was completely ineffective.
Finn: Yeah, but it looked cool! Machina now reaching into his mouth... he's got a stick of gum! What is he going to do with it? Explode the truck? Launch missiles? Swing to safety?
Armstrong: No... it looks like it's just gum... and he's chewing it.
Finn: Now he's taking it out of his mouth and running at the Trucker! He's going to put his half-chewed gum in the Trucker's hair!
Roberts: No baby, no! This match has gone too far!
Finn: The Trucker pushing a button on his belt buckle... and two small metal wings pop out from the sides of his pants! My god... he's got a jetpack on under there, and now he's launching off the arena floor and flying over Machina and the evil gum!
Armstrong: He's landing inside the ring, and now he turns to face Machina. The Trucker letting the BMW truck roll out of the arena so Machina has a clear path to the ring... the Trucker wants to finish this like men... but what is he yelling now?
Finn: Machina's face growing red, and he's pulling a headset microphone out from his mask...
Finn: You know, I always thought Timothy Dalton was underrated as an actor...
Machina: Shut up, Finn!
Trucker: Yeah, shut your big yapper!
Armstrong: Boy, they sure told you.
Roberts: I mean, come on... Dalton baby? Dalton?
Armstrong: Yeah, Dalton really sucked, Finn.
Finn: It was the scripts that were bad, not Dalton... but forget about that for now... Machina entering the ring, and we may just see a real wrestling match now... no! Machina just blinded the Trucker with some kind of light from his left boot! The Trucker stumbling back here... he's blinded!
Armstrong: What a great trick!
Finn: Now Machina is tying the Trucker down on the mat... all he has to do is pin him and it's all over! But... what is Machina doing here?
Machina: So Trucker! I have you at my advantage... and you're helpless to overthrow my grand scheme which involves several global positioning satellites, a weather manipulation beam targeted from the eastern forests of the Canadian wilderness, and the slow poisoning of the Santa Cruz water and irrigation system. But you won't be able to stop me because I'm setting up this small laser I hid inside the turnbuckle to slowly burn toward you, moving between your legs, up to your groin, and then into your brain, destroying everything within in a blazing inferno!
Armstrong: My god, that's diabolical!
Finn: But Machina took too long to tell the Trucker his master plan, and it looks like the Trucker has freed an arm! Machina starting up the laser, but the Trucker has used his free arm to toss a quarter in front of the path of the laser, and it's deflecting the beam! The beam nicks the head of Machina and he goes down in pain!
Armstrong: The Trucker has freed himself of all of the bonds!
Finn: The Trucker up... and he's picking up Machina, bringing the masked wrestler to his feet even though Machina appears to be out of it... and big powerslam!
Roberts: That's the 18 Wheeler, baby!
Finn: The Trucker with the cover...
Finn: And this one is over! What a... well... unusual match! And the Trucker and his fondness for Shawn Connery has won this match!
Armstrong: Timothy Dalton... you dork.
Finn: Be that as it may, the Trucker walks out of here the winner. Folks, we aren't done yet...
Armstrong: You're right. If we were, we'd be all in awe regarding the performance we had just witnessed between Frenchie and Primetime. But I'm never that lucky. Nope, I have to sit through four more matches that have suck written all over them. SUCK!
Roberts: Hey, sucking can be good, you know, baby.
Finn: And up next we have a huge match for the Internet Title!
Finn: We'll see Mitch Wilson -
Finn: - and Eron -
Finn: - battle for the belt! Let's go down to Matt!
Panzer: The following match is for the fWo Internet Title! Introducing first, weighing in at two hundred and thirty-eight pounds, from Denver, Colorado... he represents FTfWo... Mitch Wilson!
Roberts: The crowd hates this guy, baby!
Finn: Mitch has been on a roll since returning, scoring a pinfall and a submission over World Champion the Flying Frenchie on back-to-back weeks.
Panzer: And his opponent... the fWo Internet Champion, weighing two hundred and thirty-six pounds, Eron!
Roberts: The crowd hates this guy too, baby, yeah!
Finn: Neither man has done much in the past to get on their good side...
Armstrong: Nice to see you're as observant now as you were the last time I was here, Finny...
Finn: The two men circling, Eron charges and Wilson ducks and takes him down into a drop toe hold!
Finn: Mitch quickly applies a legbar on the left leg. He's the kind of guy who will pick a body part and work it all match...
Finn: Eron in great pain here... reaching for the ropes... but he can't get them! The ref asking him if he quits, but Eron refuses.
Roberts: That may not be the best decision, baby.
Finn: Mitch still cranking on that leg... and Eron finally reaches the ropes!
Finn: Mitch drags him up and whips him hard into the corner. Mitch charging in, dropkick to the knee! Wilson back up quickly, and he's got ahold of that leg... drapes it behind the ring ropes and pulls on it!
Roberts: I like this guy's style!
Finn: The referee administering a five-count here, and Wilson breaks it at four. Bringing Eron back in, whip into the ropes, and a chop block by Mitch Wilson takes him down! Eron on his stomach here... and Mitch headed for his legs.
Armstrong: What's that traitor gonna do this time?
Finn: He's hooking up the legs here... rolls him back into a bow-and-arrow! Mitch Wilson is taking Eron apart piece by piece here!
Finn: Wilson now rolling on the mat with the hold still applied! Eron in excruciating pain here! Wilson finally releases it now... and brings Eron back up. Hooks his leg, and rolls through into a kneelock!
Finn: Eron is right by the ropes here, though, and quickly grabs ahold. The ref telling Mitch to break the hold... and he does so.
Finn: Mitch brings Eron back up... dragon screw legwhip! Pulls him back up, and hits another!
Finn: Mitch holds on and pulls Eron back up one more time... lifts him up... kneebreaker! Mitch still has ahold of that leg, and wraps him up in a figure four!
Roberts: It could be over, baby!
Finn: Eron in great pain here... he's struggling for the ropes... and he reaches them! The ref telling Mitch to break the hold and he does so... except I think he thinks he won! He thinks Eron gave up!
Armstrong: What a moron!
Finn: Mitch thinks Eron submitted, but the ref telling him otherwise... wait a minute, Eron is crawling over behind Mitch, low blow! Mitch doubled over, the ref appeared not to see it, schoolboy by Eron!
Finn: Both men up, and Eron ducks a clothesline from Mitch, and hits one of his own! Mitch back up quickly, but Eron spikes him with a DDT! Cover!
Roberts: That was close, baby.
Finn: Eron's still got use of those arms, so he's got that going for him, and he seems to be taking full advantage of it. Whips Wilson into the ropes, spinebuster slam and a cover!
Armstrong: I don't like that backstabbing SOB Wilson, but I know it's gonna take a lot more than that to put him away.
Finn: Eron bringing Mitch up again, short whip, into a sit-down chokeslam!
Armstrong: *That* could do it.
Finn: Eron bringing Mitch up... hooks him for a fisherman's suplex! Can he do it with the attacks having been mounted on his knees?
Finn: Lifts Mitch up, but he can't bring him over the first time... Eron summons up strength from deep inside and takes Mitch over on the second try!
Finn: And a kickout at two and three quarters!
Finn: Eron brings Mitch back to his feet, another short whip, and he lifts him into a death valley driver position!
Finn: But he can't hold Mitch's weight and Mitch slips off!
Finn: Wilson with a kick to the back of the knee, and now grabs him in a hammerlock on the right arm, and lifts him into the air with the hammerlock still applied!
Roberts: That's gotta hurt like a bitch, baby!
Finn: Wilson drops Eron back down, but holds onto the hammerlock... and a bodyslam on that arm! It looks like Wilson has picked *another* body part to work on here... he's trying to take each of Eron's appendages out of commission! He applies a full arm drag and twist here...
Armstrong: Full arm drag and twist? Good call, Finny Schiavone.
Finn: Mitch has the arm now... and there's a version of a dragon screw but with the arm! Mitch holding on and rolls into a cross armbreaker!
Finn: Eron reaching for the ropes... he can't get to them! The referee asking Eron, and he's saying no. Wilson pulls back... now rolls Eron over onto his stomach and pulls up on the arm!
Armstrong: I haven't seen focus this much on a body part since the last time I saw Penny Pureheart!
Roberts: Or since the last time I saw VL!
Finn: Wilson still applying the hold now, pulling back, trying to dislocate it... and Eron finally drapes his left arm over the ropes. Mitch breaks the hold, and they're back up. Eron goes for a clothesline, but Wilson takes him down into a Fujiwara armbar!
Armstrong: That's what he beat my Frenchie with, the bastard!
Finn: Eron's in deep trouble now! I don't think there's any way out of this hold for him... Eron looks like he's about to tap... and the ref just got pulled from the ring and clocked! Primetime is here!
Armstrong: Yes! Kick his ass for me, Brian! Primetime~! Primetime~! Primetime~!
Finn: Primetime rolls into the ring -
Armstrong: Finn, you idiot, don't interrupt my chanting!
Finn: But I'm trying to -
Roberts: You heard the man, Finny-Mac.
Finn: Well, alright James. Resume chanting.
Armstrong: You ruined it.
Finn: Ugh... well, Primetime has grabbed the Internet title and rolled into the ring here, and Wilson has released the hold... and those two are nose-to-nose! The insults flying here... feel the intensity of those two men! Who's going to strike first here?
Armstrong: Probably... Primetime~! Primetime~! Primetime~!
Finn: He goes for a belt shot, but Wilson ducks! PT off the ropes and ducks a Wilson clothesline! They're getting it on here tonight!
Roberts: You really need to think about how what you say sounds, Finnster.
Finn: Wait a minute... Primetime just reached into his tights -
Roberts: You're not listening, baby, are you?
Finn: - and threw powder into the face of Mitch Wilson! Mitch can't see! Now he gets a faceful of Internet Title!
Finn: Primetime tosses the belt aside and drapes Eron over Mitch... he rolls to the outside to revive the ref. He's walking to the back now, with his job done...
Finn: The ref rolls woozily into the ring...
Finn: Sees the pinfall...
Finn: Kickout! Mitch Wilson kicked out!
Roberts: Incredible, baby, yeah!
Finn: Now both men staggering to their feet... Mitch still somewhat blinded here... and Eron sees the advantage! Walks over to Mitch... measures him... superkick!
Finn: Caught by Mitch! Ankle lock!
Armstrong: Much as I hate to say it, it looks like Benedict Wilson is about to take the title here...
Finn: But Eron with a mule kick right to the nose! That caught Mitch square, and he releases the hold... staggering back... Eron to his feet but hobbling... Mitch grabs him in position for the Inverted Russian Legsweep!
Finn: Eron breaks it with an elbow to the head! Mitch staggers back and Eron charges, but Mitch moves and Eron goes head-first into the turnbuckles!
Finn: Eron staggers out, Mitch hooks him, fisherman's brainbuster!
Finn: Thre- no, Eron kicks out at the last moment!
Finn: Neither can Mitch as he brings Eron up... he's got him by the arms now... wraps him into an octopus hold! He's already tried working the legs and applying an ankle lock, now he's going after those arms he worked with this exotic submission move!
Finn: Mitch clinging to the back of Eron like a spider... and Eron falls onto his side!
Finn: Mitch is trapped underneath Eron! He can't move and his shoulders are down!
Armstrong: Yes~! That's what you get for turning your back on the Foundation, Mitch! Ha ha!
Roberts: What a surprise there... it looked like Mitch had him, baby.
Finn: It sure did, and Mitch is already up on his feet and staring in disbelief... he cannot believe he lost! Eron's loud and annoying music playing here as Mitch rolls out of the ring, spitting at the still-down Eron as he goes...
Armstrong: Typical quote-unquote "sportsmanship" from that sore loser.
Finn: And Eron only now beginning to sit up... the ref hands him the Internet Title, and he is very lucky to be walking out of here with that right now.
Armstrong: Pah. Mitch is lucky that Frenchie and Primetime didn't come out here and kick his ass from here to Denver to France and back to St. Louis.
Finn: You're never one to hold grudges, are you? Anyways...
(2 total votes)
Finn: And next up is a battle for the fWo World Tag Team Titles. The Millennium Men, former Cruiserweight Champ Havok and former World Champ the Black Panther square off with the team many have called the greatest in fWo history, the Underground.
Armstrong: I think Primetime may have a little something to say about that...
Roberts: What about Mitch, baby?
Armstrong: Mitch, smitch. All Mitch does is bitch. Primetime was the one who carried his worthless ass to the belts, and everybody knows it.
Finn: In any case, let's go down to Matt, to introduce the competitors.
Panzer: The following match is for the fWo World Tag Team Championship!
Panzer: Introducing first, the challengers... at a combined weight of five hundred and eighty-two pounds... Havok... the Black Panther... the Millennium Men!
Finn: The fans on their feet for these two.
Armstrong: Bah! Bunch of goody-two-shoes losers. I tell you what, I'll tell you exactly what Havok can do with his stupid board games... and Panther? Well, a Panther is a type of pussycat, and they're half right.
Roberts: I've never seen the resemblance between the Panther and a cat, James.
Armstrong: I meant -
Finn: *OK*, let's go back to the ring.
Panzer: And their opponents... they are three-time and current fWo World Tag Team Champions... weighing in at a combined weight of four hundred and fifty-four pounds... Wretch... Mike Bear... the Underground!
Finn: The crowd cheering heavily for this duo as well, but despite the fact that they are tag champs and one of the most popular teams ever, things have not gone well for the Underground of late. Mike Bear and Wretch seem to be drifting apart -
Armstrong: Thank God.
Finn: - and they're going to have to work together in a big way to overcome these two singles superstars.
Finn: There's the bell, and this one is underway. Havok and Bear starting it out, and Havok takes the advantage with a series of stiff chops, backing Bear against the ropes. Whip across, leg lariat by Havok! This one's looking like it'll be a slobberknocker!
Armstrong: You think so, Finn Ross?
Armstrong: You know.. Finn... like Jim? Like Good Ol'... never mind.
Roberts: Oh, you mean that paid wwf employee and shill?
Armstrong: You know, I heard somebody refer to him as that a few days ago, and I just can't remember who it was...
Finn: Uh, guys? Match?
Armstrong: What's your point?
Finn: Well, we're announcers, and it's a match, and we're supposed to call... never mind.
Finn: Anyway, Havok has Bear up now, and goes for a suplex... Bear blocks it, and takes Havok over himself with a vertical suplex of his own. Bear with an elbowdrop, and brings Havok up.
Finn: Bear winds up... superkick! Cover...
Finn: Kickout by Havok! Havok quickly gets up, charges at Bear who whips him into the ropes, pulls him back in a short whip, lifts him up and hits a death valley driver!
Armstrong: Long sentence, Finny.
Roberts: Man's got a point, you know. You talk too much, baby.
Finn: But I'm the announ - ah, forget it. Cover by Bear...
Finn: Bear bringing Havok up now, hooks him... release northern lights suplex! Bear pulling out all the stops early here... Cover.
Finn: Kickout by Havok! Bear bringing Havok up, doubles him over... lifts him up and hits a piledriver! Bear not going for a cover here...
Finn: Lifts him up and hits a DDT! It looks like Bear may have decided to work that neck to set up the Whiplash..
Armstrong: Which would be the first intelligent thing tattoo boy has done since he joined the fWo...
Finn: Again not covering, Bear brings him up, lifts him up in a suplex position... brainbuster! Havok's in serious trouble here.
Finn: Bear now heading to the Underground corner as Wretch reaches for a tag... Bear must've missed it, and Wretch seems a bit perturbed as Bear climbs up to the top rope... he rarely goes up there, guys.
Roberts: There's a reason for that, Finn, and that's that Bear has the flying ability of an ostrich with its wings clipped, baby.
Finn: Bear measuring Havok...
Finn: Leaps off with a flying elbow right to the throat and neck! Cover by Bear, this should do it.
Finn: Kickout! He kicked out!
Armstrong: Wow. I'm almost impressed.
Finn: Bear climbs up off Havok now, and heads for the tag... Wretch takes it, and he's headed up top. Bear into the corner... rocket launcher!
Armstrong: OK, that was actually fairly impressive. Of course, it's not up there with the things I would do in my heyday... vodkacanranas, hookersaults, blackjack drops...
Armstrong: On second thought, forget the vodkacanranas and the blackjack drops...
Finn: You never cease to disturb me, James.
Armstrong: Thank you.
Finn: Wretch brings Havok up to his feet instead of going for the cover... kicks him in the stomach...off the ropes, rocker dropper! Right back to work on that neck, and here's a cover by Wretch.
Roberts: Is that resilience or stupidity on the part of Havok, baby?
Roberts: Count me in on the "stupidity" side, baby, yeah!
Armstrong: Par for the course, really...
Finn: I never should've suggested that you guys work together... Wretch bringing Havok up now, takes him back down with a swinging neckbreaker. The crowd beginning to get behind Havok here, cheering him on to make a tag to the Black Panther... Wretch clamping on a dragon sleeper, still working over that neck!
Roberts: Listen to the morons cheer, baby, yeah!
Finn: Wretch grinding in the hold here, and if Havok doesn't submit he may run out of oxygen.
Armstrong: Or just plain faint from that good ol' sweaty armpit submission...
Finn: Thank you for that mental image, James... wait a minute, Havok is fighting out!
Finn: The fans behind him bigtime here, and Havok lifting Wretch to a vertical position... Wretch bridging the back UFC-style to maintain the pressure... but Havok leans back and launches a series of elbows!
Finn: Havok has Wretch now... breaks the hold with a snapmare! Wretch quickly back up, dropkick by Havok!
Finn: Wretch crashes into Bear! Bear flies into the ring apron! Wretch staring out at Bear, he can't believe what just happened -
Finn: Rollup from behind by Havok!
Finn: Thre - and a kickout at the last moment by Wretch! Wretch up now, and a lariat by Havok takes him down! Havok has got his second wind here, and he is absolutely on fire!
Finn: Havok mounts the second turnbuckles, climbs up to the top one... waits for Wretch to get up... flying bulldog!
Finn: No! Wretch kicks out at the last possible moment! Havok brings Wretch up, doubles him over and hooks him... corkscrew piledriver!
Finn: He's heading up top, he's going for the Millennium-Sault! If he hits this, we'll have new World Tag Team Champions!
Roberts: It's about to happen, baby!
Finn: But Bear from the outside crotches Havok! The ref didn't catch it!
Finn: Havok falls backward, and his head hits the turnbuckles! That can't be good for his already worked-over neck...
Armstrong: I think a "duh" is in order here...
Roberts: Or perhaps a "No, really, baby?", baby...
Finn: Nevertheless, Wretch is slowly getting to his feet, and sees Havok prone... shoves Havok back to a seated position on the top... and climbs up with him.
Finn: He's hooked the head... he's going for a top-rope Depression! On that neck of Havok!
Finn: My God! Bear slaps him on the back for encouragement...
Finn: And Wretch hits it! He hits it!
Finn: Bear is... climbing in the ring? Why?
Armstrong: 'Cause he's a dumbass?
Roberts: Probably, baby.
Finn: Anyway, a cover by Wretch...
Finn: And the ref isn't counting! He says that was a tag by Bear, and Bear agrees!
Finn: Wretch is up off Havok, and he's getting into the face of Bear and rightfully so here? What was Bear thinking? Definitely some type of miscommunication there...
Finn: Bear trying to defend himself here, and Wretch having none of it... and neither man notices Havok beginning to stir!
Finn: Havok is crawling over to his corner... Panther is reaching out for the tag...
Finn: Bear and Wretch have no idea what's going on -
Armstrong: As usual.
Finn: - and if Panther tags in here, it's over for them.
Finn: Havok crawling... crawling... leaps, dives, and tags out!
Finn: Panther hits the ring for the first time all night!
Finn: He's walking up behind Bear and Wretch, stalking them like a cat about to pounce...
Roberts: Ooh, witty analogy, Finn.
Finn: Havok pulling himself to his feet here...
Finn: Panther turns and clotheslines Havok down?! What the hell?!
Finn: Bear and Wretch heard that, and they turn to see what's going on... they cannot believe it, and neither can we!
Roberts: Speak for yourself, baby.
Armstrong: It's about time Panther showed some spine!
Finn: Panther unmercifully pummeling his... I suppose ex-partner here, and now he lifts him up and sets him on the top rope! Oh no!
Finn: Panther climbs up... lifts him... he's got him at a bit of an angle here...
Finn: A version of the Pounce!
Finn: Almost like a super brainbuster on that injured neck! My God, Black Panther is sick!
Finn: He spits on Havok now, and leaves to a well-deserved chorus of boos... what the hell is he thinking?
Finn: And according to fWo rules since the legal man Panther has turned on his partner here, Havok becomes the legal man again...
Armstrong: Nice to know we have a forgiving rule-making body, huh?
Finn: Bear lifts Havok up now, onto his shoulders, and a totally pointless Whiplash there... Havok was already out. Bear with a lax cover...
Finn: And 3.
Finn: What the hell is wrong with the Black Panther? Unbelievable...
Finn: The ref hands Bear and Wretch their belts, and they appear to have gotten over their little spat...
Roberts: Funny how keeping a title can do that to you, huh, baby, yeah?
Finn: Indeed... Bear and Wretch walking to the back now, and you can't fault them for taking advantage of that... but still... what an incredible shock to the system here.
Armstrong: Pah. It was about time that Black Panther grew a sack and disassociated himself from that pansy Mystery Date game playing Havok.
Finn: You're so cruel sometimes.
Armstrong: Shut your piehole, Finn.
Finn: I thought you said we was cool earlier?
Armstrong: I lied. You tried to act like you was down, but you ain't down, you just a clown... foo!
Finn: Next up, we have Dead versus Chris Universal. There's no love lost between these two, they've hated each other since day one and have never gotten along.
Armstrong: Pah. This just means we're one step closer to the main event, doesn't it?
Finn: It does, but we should all brace ourselves for what could be a chaoctic encounter between two rivals who absolutely hate each other. The story between these two men is long and -
Armstrong: Boooooooooring. Booooooooring. Boooooooring. Boooooooooooring. They hate each other. Pah. Don't care.
Finn: Despite my feelings towards Dead, and the way Universal has treated me as of late, this should be an intriguing match.
Roberts: Indeed, Finnster. These two men have made it clear that they don't get along... and that's what makes their rivalry great. You won't see these two buddying around in the future, baby.
Finn: Nevertheless, Universal' music has begun, so let's send it up to Matt Panzer for the introductions of the next contest.
Panzer: Thank you, Finnster. Our next contest is a special No Holds Barred Falls Count Anywhere in St. Louis match! Introducing first... he hails from Miami, Florida and weighs in at two hundred and forty five pounds... he is The Sellout Chris Universal!
Finn: Listen to the reaction from the fans!
Armstrong: They're booing like hell because Frenchie & Primetime aren't out here!
Finn: James, will you stop?
Armstrong: Highly unlikely.
Finn: And as Universal stretches out inside the ring, we await the introductions of Dead.
Panzer: And his opponent... hailing from Death Valley, Arizona... he weighs in at two hundred and fifty pounds, he is a former two-time fWo World Champion, he is Dead!
Finn: And understandably so, the fans do not like him whatsoever. Neither do I, for that matter, because the man has been trying to accomplish what nobody has ever accomplished, and that's killing the fWo. He's tried to do it since he returned, and he doesn't have a chance in hell of completing his goal.
Armstrong: He sure doesn't.
Finn: And as Dead makes his way out onto the ramp, the crowd lets him know how they feel about him, and I've never heard such a large negative reaction for one human being.
Armstrong: Except for that one time you went back home to Idaho to visit your family, and they booed you out of your own home 'cause you suck as an announcer!
Finn: Alright, that's it! You've gone too far! You're a dead man!
Roberts: Guys, guys! We're on pay-per-view! Can't we all just get along?
Armstrong: Well, Rodney King, we could if Finn here would keep his piehole shut.
Finn: Sigh, and as Dead approaches the ring, you'll note that he pushed a very large dumpster out onto the stage here, and we can only wonder what he has in store for Universal using that big item. Dead slides into the ring as Universal beckons him to join him, and we're underway! Universal charges and takes Dead down with a clothesline!
Armstrong: Stiff shot to the upper pectoral muscles by Universal!
Finn: Universal grabs Dead by the head and brings him up and tosses him up and over the top rope onto the cement floor. Universal now with a baseball slide out, and from there he takes Dead down with another clothesline. Now Universal grabs Dead by the head and brings him up, before whipping him into the guardrail backfirst!
Finn: Universal now charges at him and Dead ducks and backdrops him over the guardrail into the first row of fans! Dead meant what he said, guys, when he said if others had to be hurt in the process just so he could hurt Universal he would do it!
Finn: And as I say that I remind you that the little disclaimer on the back of the tickets indicate weren't not responsible -
Armstrong: For rampaging talent. Yep. Been there, done that.
Roberts: James, are you PMSing or something? You're sure in a grumpy mood today, baby!
Finn: He sure is. Dead now climbs over the guardrail and grabs Universal up by the hair... and there's a bodyslam to the cement floor. And now Dead repeatedly kicks at his head, before bringing him up... he's trying to go for a piledriver... can he hit it... no, Universal backdrops out of it and Dead goes crashing to the floor!
Roberts: Yeah, baby, yeah! Show that bald headed meanie who's boss!
Armstrong: Who's your daddy Austin Davis?
Finn: Now that was just lame. Universal over by the guardrail, attempting to catch his breath, Dead up to his feet and he charges... and Universal hip tosses him over the guardrail onto the floor! Now Universal waits for Dead to reach his feet...
Finn: Dead does and Universal hops onto the guardrail before flying off with a lariat and taking Dead to the floor again! Universal now looks up at the dumpster on the stage, and I think he's pondering taking a stroll up there to check out what Dead brought out.
Armstrong: Pah. Who cares. I hope Universal takes Dead and puts him in that dumpster and pushes it off the stage into oblivion.
Roberts: I agree, baby, that would be a sight to see, yeah!
Finn: Universal now walking up towards the dumpster, but he doesn't see Dead from behind grab him and take him out with a side Russian Legsweep on the floor! Now Dead grabs him by the hair and begins to take him up on the stage, but Universal shoots an elbow into his ribs. And another, and now Universal brings him up and Irish Whips him into the dumpster, but Dead reverses it and instead it's Universal who crashes back first into that dumpster.
Finn: Universal staggers out and Dead takes him down with a quick double-arm DDT!
Finn: Now Dead climbs to his feet and he reaches inside that large dumpster... and my god... he's got a weed wacker!
Armstrong: Universal better hope for his sake Dead can't start that thing up!
Roberts: Hell, we better hope for OUR sake that he can't! Otherwise, chopped up pieces of Universal are gonna be flying our way, baby!
Finn: As Universal gets to his feet, Dead takes the weed wacker and slams it right into his face!
Finn: Good god, I don't believe I ever recall seeing a weed wacker in a match. I remember Dead using a lawnmower against Mick Foley in the December of '98, but never a weed wacker!
Finn: Dead waits for Universal to get up once more, before charging at him and clotheslining him to the stage with the weapon! And now Dead tosses the weed wacker off the stage, and he reaches inside the dumpster once more... I can only wonder what he's gonna pull out. It looks like... that's a hard drive!
Armstrong: A what?
Finn: A hard drive.
Roberts: Huh huh, baby, you said hard.
Finn: And Dead waits for Universal to get up before simply throwing it at him, and somehow Universal had the strength to catch it before he charged and took Dead down with it! Good God!
Finn: Universal now tosses it aside and it heads off the stage below us... and now he looks inside the dumpster... and retrieves a Saint Bernard?
Finn: Wait... pardon me. That's a fire extinguisher.
Armstrong: How in the hell could you mix those two up?
Finn: Sorry. Anyways, as Dead uses the dumpster to pull himself up, Universal holds the weapon in both hands high above waiting to bring it down onto Dead, but Dead fires a low blow into the tender nether regions of Universal and watches as The Sellout drops the fire extinguisher onto the stage, and now Dead procures the fire extinguisher and shoots a cloud of white into the face of Universal!
Finn: Now Dead slams it onto his back! Good God! Now he's using the hose of the fire extinguisher to choke The Sellout with it!
Finn: Speaking of fire extinguishers, it's a good thing the security members were on call earlier tonight and got that fire out earlier this evening.
Armstrong: Stupid Machina.
Finn: Ah, come on, he had no way of knowing that surfing down a steel guardrail using a STEEL chair would 'cause sparks to fly that high!
Finn: And now Dead grabs Universal and slams him head first into the dumpster, before bringing him down near the ring and rolling him in... Dead now reaching underneath the ring, and he pulls out a table. He rolls it into the ring, before climbing in and as Universal is bent over trying to get up, Dead kicks him in the back of the head!
Roberts: That had to of scrambled his eggs, baby!
Finn: Dead now retrieves the table and sets it up in the corner, before bringing Universal up and whipping him to the ropes. Universal with a reversal, and as Dead returns he counters the backdrop with a DDT!
Armstrong: His old finisher, and I believe you've been on the receiving end of that, right Stevie?
Roberts: Unfortunately, baby, unfortunately!
Finn: Dead now with a cover, but Universal kicks out at two. That was our first pinfall attempt of the match, and now Dead grabs Universal by the hair and begins pounding him repeatedly. Dead now with a bodyslam onto the table, and now pounding Universal relentlessly... but what's this? What the hell is she doing?
Armstrong: It's Megan Dawn! I'd like to have a piece of her...
Roberts: Hehe, don't tell Chris, but I did have a piece of her baby, and it was delicious.
Finn: You did not.
Roberts: Okay... it was a dream. So what, baby!
Finn: And now she pushes Dead from behind as she enters the ring, and Dead now returns her push with a cold hard stare!
Armstrong: Nothing beats that. Nothing.
Finn: Dead now grabs her by the hair, but Universal from behind with a shot to the little Dead-sticles from behind! And now as Dead turns around Universal takes him down with a piledriver! Cover!
Finn: No! Just two! And now Universal gets up to ask Dawn what she's doing out here, when she hasn't been seen for weeks on television.
Finn: From behind Dead grabs Universal by the hair and turns him around and nails him with a forearm to the face, and another. Dead now continues on the offensive attack, slamming Universal head first into the table... before tossing him over the top rope onto the cement floor!
Finn: Dead now grabs Dawn by the hair and brings her over by the table... and he puts her up on the table... Universal recovering on the outside.. and Dead now up onto the table himself... and he turns Dawn upside down... and oh my god, don't tell me, don't tell me he's going to Crucify her through the table? Good God! This man is sick!
Finn: But Universal up onto the top rope, and he flies off with a dropkick that propels Dead off the table and sends Dawn to the mat before she goes out underneath the bottom rope onto the floor!
Finn: Universal now is furious! And rightfully so! Universal now leans over and lays into Dead with a ton of hard lefts and rights!
Armstrong: Hit him for me!
Roberts: And me, baby!
Finn: And me too!
Armstrong: Ah, who cares about you, you Timothy Dalton fan!
Finn: Hey, it was bad scripts... he was a fine actor. And now Universal leaning halfway in and halfway out of the ring, before he goes fully outside the ring to check on his woman. But as he does this, a team of medical personnel now on their way out to help Dawn to the back on a stretcher. Let's hope she's okay.
Armstrong: Right, Finn. It's not cool to hit a woman, even though Dead never did actually *hit* her.
Finn: He was going to do something worse, something MUCH worse. And now Dead rolls out onto the floor before dismantling part of the ring steps, and bringing it near Universal from behind and... good lord, that had to of sent a chill down the spine of Universal because Dead slammed that huge piece of steel right into him!
Finn: And now Dead holds it above Dawn... don't tell me he's going to do that... this man is sick! He's diabolical, and he doesn't belong in wrestling!
Finn: As I say that, rather Dead simply sets the steel steps down, before going over and grabbing Universal and tossing him up onto the French announce table!
Finn: Let us hope Jacques and Raymond are okay! As I say that, the medical staff is helping Dawn backstage, without the stretcher. Let's hope she's okay.
Armstrong: Indeed! Where's Pierre to stop this carnage?
Roberts: Well, his match is next, so I reckon he's in the back preparing for it, baby!
Finn: And now Dead brings Universal up, and there's a shot to the ribs by Universal, and another, before he reaches up... CHA-CHING!
Armstrong: Right through the table! Run French announcers, run!
Finn: Cover that man! Cover him!
Finn: Cover him!
Armstrong: I don't think he can hear you!
Finn: Universal now rolling his one arm over Dead... and there's a cover!
Finn: No! Dead somehow kicked out!
Roberts: Damnit, baby, damnit!
Armstrong: Yeah, I agree with Stevie. That really sucked.
Finn: Be that as it may, Universal now grabbing Dead by the head...
Armstrong: That rhymed.
Finn: It did, James. You're learning quick. Universal now brings him over and slams him head first into the ringpost nearby, before rolling him up onto OUR table!
Armstrong: Hold me, someone!
Finn: Shut up, ya big baby! And now Universal up onto the table as well and he pulls Dead up... but there's ANOTHER shot to the testicular area of Universal, and despite how much these men claim to hate each other, they sure like hitting each other's balls.
Finn: And as I say that... DDT!
Finn: Right through our table, and I've got a monitor sitting in my lap!
Armstrong: Ah, and I suppose that's not what you wanted, right? Suppose you wanted Timothy Dalton sitting there, right?
Finn: Shut up! I'm not queer or anything like that!
Armstrong: Oh, so now you've got something against gay people?
Armstrong: Oh, so you love gay people?
Finn: Yes! Er, I mean no! Look... COVER!
Finn: Yes! Universal got a shoulder up, and that means he still has a chance of ending Dead's career here tonight! And the Kiel Center is rocking as they can't wait to see the end of Dead's career tonight. Universal and Dead are both exhausted... and now Dead brings Universal up... he rolls him onto the Spanish announcer table! Run for your lives Jose & Pepe!
Finn: And as I say that, both men crash through the table! What is it with those Spanish announce tables? They suck, and always break on contact!
Finn: Both men are out of it, and interestingly enough, they fell in a way that both men have an arm draped over the other... and so it's a pinning predicament... cover!
Finn: No! That was close, so close, but BOTH men shouldered out of it! The Kiel Center is in a frenzy, the whole arena looks like a car crash...
Armstrong: Yeah, look at all those ugly people...
Finn: I didn't mean it that way, James. Three tables have been broken, and if it's any indication of what's to come, more will be broken as well.
Finn: Dead now pulling himself up via the guardrail, and Universal staggering up slowly... he almost falls.. and now Dead grabs him by the hair and rolls him into the ring. Dead now into the ring as well, and he bounces off the ropes and drives a knee right into the throat of Universal... pinfall attempt here...
Finn: No! Two count only! Universal kicks out. Dead now brings Universal up and whips him into the corner, and then follows it up with a charging elbow right to the jaw of Universal... he then grabs him by the hair and lays him on the table that is still in the ring!
Finn: Dead now going to the top rope... but Universal off the table now climbs up to the second rope, and now he and Dead are duking it out high above the ring!
Armstrong: Get 'em, rich boy!
Finn: And now Dead hooks Universal for a DDT, but Universal switches into a Northern Lights Suplex off the top rope through the table... and now Universal with the cover... but Dead kicks out at two. Universal undaunted and frustrated, on his last tank of gas here... grabs Dead up and brings him up by the head, before whipping him into the turnbuckles....
Finn: He charges in shoulder first, but Dead puts a knee up and Universal slams into it... and now Dead hooks him... good lord... CRUCIFIXION TOMBSTONE PILEDRIVER!
Finn: It's over! It HAS to be over, and it looks like Dead's career will live on... unfortunately.
Armstrong: Indeed. The rich boy gave it all, but it just wasn't good enough. Too bad.
Roberts: Ah, don't count Universal out so quickly, baby! He is shagadelic, after all!
Finn: I don't know, Stevie... it looks to be over. Dead rolls over ontop of Universal, and now the referee gets in position to count.
Finn: Two count only! And Chris Universal still has a chance!
Roberts: Unbelievable, baby!
Finn: And now Dead up to his feet... looking out at the crowd and appears to be flabbergasted that Universal is still in this one. And now Dead looking to the stage... and he's waving? What the hell? He's making a motion like he's telling someone to come out here...
Finn: Wonder what that's about.
Armstrong: He's probably calling for that Slugger bastard and that Mitch bastard to come out here to help him win this match. Bastard.
Finn: And now as you say that, there's Hiroshima and Mitch Wilson, and it looks like they have some wooden tables, and are stacking them up near the stage!
Finn: And now Dead reaches for Universal and pulls him up... before tossing him up and over the top rope onto the floor! Dead now out onto the ring apron... and there's a legdrop onto a fallen Universal from the ring apron! Dead grabs Universal and brings him up near the dumpster before throwing him back first into it, but this time Universal reverses it and as Dead staggers out Universal back drops him!
Armstrong: And now Universal pulls him up and snap suplexes him quickly on the stage, before reaching inside the dumpster...
Finn: ... and pulling out a chainsaw? CUT THAT MO FO UP!
Finn: Right. Universal trying his damnedest to start it, but the damn thing won't start... and now Dead up to his feet, and as Universal was holding the chainsaw up near his face, Dead dropkicked it right into him, and the engine end of it nailed him hard. And now Dead pulls him up by the hair... he's taking him near the tables... and with a heave... down goes Universal through three tables!
Armstrong: Oh my god!
Roberts: Oh my god, baby!
Finn: Oh my Good God!
Styles: Oh my god~!
Finn: Hey, you're back? Run along... and Universal goes through all three tables, and he has to be done. If he ever walks again, it'll be NOTHING short of a miracle!
Finn: And now Dead looking over the edge as the crowd has gone into an ovation of boo's here, there was quite a large reaction as Universal went through the three tables... my god, this match has to be over. It just has to be.
Finn: Dead now going over near the dumpster... and he's pushing it over... he's one sick & twisted individual...
Finn: He's pushing it near the edge... and now he pushes it over the edge... and oh my god! It smacked the pavement with a resounding thud!
Armstrong: If Universal was under there, he's dead. Literally.
Roberts: Indeed, baby! There's no way he can walk after that!
Finn: The dumpster ended up right side up, and the lid is open... I don't see Universal anywhere, and now Dead doing the Crucifixion pose, as the crowd showers him with jeers.
Finn: A staff of security & medical personnel is looking for Universal now...
Finn: I don't think they're having much luck, as he's nowhere to be seen.
Finn: What in the hell?
Finn: Universal is limping from underneath the huge TrappedTron, and from behind he leaps onto Dead's back for a sleeperhold!
Armstrong: Sleeperhold, sleeperhold, nobody gets out of the sleeperhold!
Finn: And now... Dead struggling... with Universal on his back cutting off the supply off oxygen... the referee looking on in shock, much like the rest of us... where the hell did Universal come from?
Armstrong: I don't know, but he has the advantage now, and Dead may be falling asleep!
Finn: But Dead is staggering back... towards the edge of the stage near the dumpster... and as you can see, there's an overhead shot of the dumpster, and there's no more weapons in there, just snakes! Good God!
Finn: And as I say that, Dead losing his balance... his back is towards the dumpster, so if he falls back, he's going to crush Universal by falling back!
Finn: Down they go! Lord have mercy, they'll never wrestle again! Mark my words! And now with another over headshot, it appears Dead is back first on top of Universal and has him pinned.. and now the referee looking down, and he has no choice but to count the pin, even though Dead is likely asleep!
Finn: The referee gets in position on the stage, and begins slapping the stage... 1...
Finn: 3. Mark it down, Dead wins, and now the series between he and his most hated rival is tied at two victories apiece.
Finn: Gah. There's a crew coming out here to clean things up, and right now I'd like to take the opportunity to plug our web site.
Armstrong: Oh, joy. More plugging.
Finn: Well, we've got to kill time, I suppose. Fans, after tonight's event you can log onto www.fwowrestling.com and read a full transcript of tonight's play-by-play, or go over to the Fan Zone and post your thoughts about tonight's card, and perhaps even give us some input on what you thought was the best match of the night.
Finn: Give us your opinions on what has gone down tonight... what you thought of our last contest, what you thought about The Black Panther turning on his partner Havok during a tag title match, and whatever else you'd like to talk about.
Finn: In addition to all that, I'm sure some fWo superstars will check in with their thoughts and comments, and perhaps even some post-show interviews will be taped and on the sight for you to witness. And I'm sure we'll have some information about tomorrow night's Sunday Night Slaughter, which should be an interesting card tomorrow night, as we'll have all the fallout from tonight's event.
Finn: And as we leave that scene of chaos, it is now time for the main event of the evening.
Armstrong: And it's about damn time!
Finn: And as the steel cage is being lowered, I'd like to remind you all that tomorrow night will be a great edition of Sunday Night Slaughter.
Armstrong: What, are we going to have Frenchie, Primetime & Courage in a three-way dance?
Finn: I don't think so, James... but we should have a great night of action planned. At any rate, the cage is now in place and the workers are making some last minute adjustments to make sure the cage won't collapse. I personally wonder why a cage is needed for this match-up.
Armstrong: Well, Finn, you're a certified moron, so let me explain it to you. Do you remember the last time Frenchie & Primetime faced off? Do you?
Finn: Well, of course I do, James.
Armstrong: Last November they wrestled in front of millions and millions of fans on television. And Primetime won. Then, the day after Invasion!, they had a triple threat match with Courage, and again, Primetime won. Now, I suspect that the other wrestlers should be jealous because these two are in the main event... and with the cage there, nobody will be interfere to ruin this definate match of the year.
Armstrong: Got it? Good. Now shut up and sit back and relax and witness the match of not only the year, but possibly...
Armstrong: The millennium.
Finn: You're pathetic. Do they pay you to kiss their ass like this?
Finn: Because if they do they're paying you way too much.
Finn: Let's go up to Matt Panzer for the introductions of our final match of the evening.
Panzer: Ladies and gentlemen and other... species, this is the main event of the evening and it is for the fWo World Title. Are you... ready?
Armstrong: We've been waiting all night just for this match, god damnit.
Panzer: I said... are... you... ready?
Armstrong: Are... you... deaf?
Finn: Please, James.
Armstrong: What, if he is, he can't hear me make fun of him for being a MORON.
Panzer: Then, for the thousands in attendance... and the millions...
Armstrong: And millions~!
Panzer: Watching around the world at home on television...
Panzer: Let's get ready to wrestleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Panzer: Coming to the ring first the challenger. He hails from Buffalo, New York but currently resides in Paris, France. He wears a black French Foundation shirt trimmed in blue, white & red. He wears black trunks trimmed in red. He is one third of the beloved trio known as the French Foundation. He weighs in at two hundred and twelve pounds... he is Primetime!
Armstrong: Go Primetime, go Primetime, get busy, it's your birthday...
Armstrong: What'd I say?
Finn: Nothing. Just... nevermind. And as "Blind" by that overrated band Korn plays, Primetime walks out onto the stage and basks in the fans hatred for him.
Armstrong: Please note that the fans are total morons for not liking Primetime. Primetime is a God, and I guess if you don't like him, well, you're going to go to hell.
Finn: Primetime enters the ring, and this match is nearly two months in the making. You'll note that Primetime lost the fWo World Title in a match that he was never pinned in back in December of last year. Tonight is his rematch, as he never received one from Ice or The Black Panther, and thus Frenchie has decided to give him one here tonight.
Armstrong: Why? Because Pierre is such a nice guy.
Roberts: Pierre is kinda goofy if you ask me, baby.
Armstrong: Did I ask you, Stevie? No? Pah!
Finn: Let's send it up to Panzer for the introduction of the Flying Frenchie.
Panzer: Thank you, Chris. And Primetime's opponent is the current fWo World Champion. He hails from Toulouse, France and weighs in at two hundred and forty pounds. He is wearing a black shirt with text that reads "Why must ze Frenchie be so damn handsome?". He is sporting his trademarked beret, and wears black tights trimmed in the colors of France. He is the one and only... Flying Frenchie!
Armstrong: Finally, the time has come... for the match... of the millennium!
Finn: Primetime pacing around in the ring, looking at his friend Pierre walk down the ramp. Primetime has tested the cage, just so it's up to his own standards. Pierre making his way into the ring now, and the referee holds the title above for everyone to see. Primetime uses the ropes to stretch, while Frenchie does some light jogging exercises in the corner. Well, this is it, guys. Any predictions?
Roberts: It's a tough choice. Primetime has been on a roll lately but Frenchie has struggled. I'll go with Primetime, baby.
Armstrong: I like both guys, so I'm neutral. I'll say it goes the sixty minute time limit and we have a draw, and everyone goes home happy.
Finn: Fine by me. I'll go with Frenchie, simply because he's more experienced and is a wily veteran who knows his way around a ring. Alright, we've made our predictions, and it appears we'll see if our predictions are about to come to fruition here, the referee has signaled for the bell, and we should be underway momentarily.
Finn: Both men meeting in the center of the ring and the two wish each other luck with a token handshake and a brief embrace. And with that out of the way, we're ready to go. Buckle up folks, this should be a classic.
Roberts: If their last match is any indication, it should be, baby!
Armstrong: Of course it will be a classic. Frenchie & Primetime. Need I say more?
Finn: And we're underway. Frenchie & Primetime lock up with a collar and elbow tie-up in the middle of the ring, and Frenchie gains the advantage with a top wristlock. Frenchie now working Primetime over, but Primetime quickly escapes into a drop-toe-hold which takes Frenchie to the canvas.
Armstrong: Nice move by Primetime.
Finn: Primetime gets to his feet and waits for Frenchie to get up, as we're in the beginning stages of the match-up.
Finn: They lock up again and this time Primetime gains the advantage with a side headlock... and like Primetime did just seconds ago Frenchie takes him down with a drop-toe-hold! Frenchie & Primetime back to their feet and now Primetime looks a little angry that Frenchie essentially copied what Primetime had done.
Armstrong: Hey, don't be trying to 'cause any problems here, Finn.
Finn: I'm not, James, I'm merely pointing out what occurred. You may not realize this but my job as an announcer is to call the action and describe what is occurring as closely and realistically as possible.
Finn: Primetime gave just a glare to Frenchie, I don't believe he said anything to him though. Both men lock-up here again... and now Frenchie with another top wristlock, but Primetime quickly escapes into an armbar, but Frenchie counters into a hammerlock, and now Primetime with a go-behind into a waistlock. Primetime hops up onto the back of Frenchie and it seems as if he's going for a victory roll, but as Frenchie heads towards the ropes to prevent a roll from happening, Primetime steps onto the top rope before sprinting into the closest corner and flying off with a high cross body!
Finn: A cover!
Finn: Just two. That was close, so close, I believe Primetime really caught Frenchie off-guard with that one. That was a very innovative move on the part of the brash Primetime, who still is just a few years removed from his youth. Primetime literally used the top rope to walk over to the corner, and that's just amazing, fans.
Armstrong: Would you expect any less from a brilliant young man like him?
Roberts: That was a genius move on the part of Primetime, baby.
Finn: Both men locking up again, and this time Primetime gains the advantage with a headlock takeover... taking Frenchie down to the mat. Frenchie however counters out with a rollup into a pin...
Finn: 1... 2... no, just two. Both men to their feet and another collar and elbow tie-up, this time Frenchie takes Primetime down with a armdrag takedown, now into an armbar... but Primetime back to his feet as Frenchie keeps the hold locked in. Primetime hauls off with a hard chop to the chest, and another, before backing Frenchie into the ropes despite the fact Frenchie has the hold locked in...
Finn: He sends Frenchie into the ropes and Frenchie returns. Primetime for a superkick, but Frenchie ducks and bounces off the other set of ropes before returning into a nicely done hurrancanrana on the part of Primetime!
Finn: No pinfall attempt this time... both men back to a standing position. Frenchie charges and Primetime takes him down with a hiptoss... and Frenchie back up and this time Primetime takes him down with a powerslam. Cover!
Roberts: 1 baby!
Roberts: 2 baby!
Roberts: Just two, baby!
Finn: That was close. Both men back up now, and Frenchie seems taken aback by the early domination on the part of his close friend and confidant. Oh my!
Finn: Frenchie with a shove! Frenchie is clearly frustrated by the tactics on the part of the younger, less experienced Primetime.
Finn: Primetime asking him what the hell he's thinking about... and now Primetime with a shove! Frenchie with another shove, and this time Primetime retaliates with shots to the face, and Frenchie responds the same way!
Armstrong: No! This can't be happening!
Roberts: Yeah, baby, yeah! It is happening, James! Deal with it, baby!
Armstrong: Why I oughtta...
Finn: Frenchie stops the melee with his patented, trademarked & copyrighted eye gouge, before following it up with a knee to the solarplexis. Frenchie now with a quick snap suplex... and he keeps the suplex position locked in before bringing Primetime up and hitting another... and... it looks as if he's going for another... and he does! Three consecutive snap suplexes, and now the Frenchie beams proudly!
Armstrong: He should go for the cover!
Finn: He's pausing to celebrate, and that may cost him here as he does go for a pinfall attempt...
Finn: Just two here, and the celebrating may have in fact cost him. Frenchie is frustrated, but realizes his own mistake. He brings Primetime up by the hair and takes him back down with a quick snapmare takeover.
Finn: That move was very crisp. The Frenchie follows it up with a kick to the back, before coming around and hitting a perfectly executed sitting dropkick. Another cover...
Finn: And another kickout by Primetime.
Roberts: That was close, but I think Frenchie's lack of hooking the leg may have cost him there.
Finn: It may have, Stevie.
Armstrong: Frenchie will correct it! Just watch!
Finn: And as my colleague says that, Frenchie corrects his mistake and hooks the leg...
Finn: One and a half count only. Frenchie now on the offensive brings Primetime up and there's a shot to the jaw with a forearm. He sends Primetime into the turnbuckles and... there's a beautiful cartwheel handspring into an elbow, but Primetime catches him in a waistlock... he walks him out to the center of the ring, and there's a beautiful back suplex into a bridge! Cover!
Finn: No! That was close, so close there! Frenchie up first, and he kicks Primetime several times before backing him into the corner while he's in a sitting position. Frenchie now with a knee to the face, and another, and now Frenchie backs up... and with a head of steam he baseball slides both feet right into ... ouch.
Armstrong: Gah! What is Pierre thinking by trying to ruin the possibility of a junior Primetime?
Roberts: Well... I'm not sure a Primetime junior would be a good thing, James, baby.
Armstrong: Of course it would be! Why wouldn't we want a handsome...
Finn: Er... now Frenchie grabs Primetime up by the hair and whips him to the ropes. Primetime returns and as Frenchie goes for a body slam of some sort, Primetime counters into a small package!
Finn: Frenchie gets up quickly and so does Primetime... and now Frenchie charges and takes Primetime down with a leg lariat. Frenchie brings Primetime up and whips him into the ropes, Primetime returns and Frenchie goes for a Samoan Drop... no... a death valley driver! This should be all!
Finn: No! Two count only!
Armstrong: I'm so torn, I don't know who to cheer for!
Finn: Frenchie now is undaunted, contemplating where to go from here. He brings Primetime up and hits a fallaway slam. Frenchie now walking over to the corner... he goes to the top rope now... and flies off with an elbowdrop!
Armstrong: That wasn't just an elbowdrop, Finn. That was... the Frenchie Elbowdrop.
Armstrong: By far the most earthquake causing, mind jarring, death defying, high impact move in the history of sports entertainment.
Finn: Eh. It's still just an elbowdrop.
Finn: Frenchie now with another cover, and a kickout by Primetime at two. Frenchie pacing himself here, catching up with his breath. He brings Primetime up and sends him into the ropes for an umpteen time here tonight. Primetime returns and Frenchie goes for a superkick, but Primetime ducks into waistlock. He hops upon to the shoulders of Frenchie for another victory roll attempt, but again Frenchie counters by moving closer to the ropes. This time Primetime steps onto the top rope... and oh no... he's on the cage now... and he climbs up a few rungs.. before flying off with a moonsault!
Armstrong: My god! My god! My god!
Roberts: He hit it, baby! I don't believe it!
Finn: This one is OVER!
Finn: The only problem is... Primetime is too out of it to crawl over a mere three inches and cover Frenchie! Primetime starting to move here... and he gets one arm draped over his fallen friend.
Finn: I'll be damned! Frenchie kicks out, but I think that's only because Primetime couldn't get over sooner to pin him. Both men now struggling up to their feet... Frenchie via aid of the ropes... Primetime from behind for a back suplex? No... Primetime positions him on the top rope, and now shaking off the cobwebs. Frenchie facing the cage now... looking at the thousands of fans in attendance.
Finn: But Frenchie starting to get up and now he's standing on the top rope... Primetime quickly joins... and there's a Russian Legsweep off the top rope! Good god almighty!
Armstrong: Holy heck!
Finn: Both men have one arm draped over the other!
Finn: No! Both men shoulder out of it, and now Primetime sensing he should go for it all here. He brings Frenchie up and there's a fisherman's suplex!
Finn: A bridge!
Finn: No! Frenchie shoulders out again!
Armstrong: No one compares to the stamina of the Frenchie, Finn. No one.
Roberts: You're wrong, baby. Ask any chick in any country, and they'll all tell you the Steviester can go all night, he can go all day, he can go all week, he can go... all year, baby!
Finn: Primetime now brings Frenchie up to his feet and nails him with five consecutive chops, before a quick scoop slam. He charges over and propels himself off the middle rope with a Asai moonsault! Cover!
Finn: No! No! No! Just two! That was close, Primetime was a millisecond away from ending it all here and we almost had a new fWo World Champion.
Finn: Primetime brings Frenchie up and whips him into the turnbuckle... and Frenchie reverses it and Primetime crashes into the buckles. Frenchie now backs up... and there's the cartwheel into a handspring elbow! This time he hit it.
Armstrong: Frenchie isn't afraid to take risks. I mean, afterall, he works here in America for chrissakes.
Finn: As Primetime staggers out from the corner... Frenchie goes for the superkick... and he hits it! Earlier he missed... and now Frenchie goes up to the top rope. What could he be going for here? The Legdrop? The 450? The 810? Who knows!
Finn: The legdrop! That's it! That's it! This has to be over!
FINN: NO! NO! NO! Primetime kicked out! Both men are seemingly running on empty here as it were, and now Frenchie frustrated and rightfully so. Primetime kicked out of the Frenchie' legdrop from the top rope.
Armstrong: Unbelievable, Finn.
Finn: Frenchie can't believe it, and neither can these fans. Frenchie has used almost every move in his repetoire, and the challenger has managed to stay in it through it all. Frenchie picks up his friend Primetime... and hits another fallaway slam. Frenchie going to the top rope now, but he's taking too long... I can hardly call the action here, I'm losing my voice.
Roberts: That's a good thing, baby! A good thing!
Finn: Frenchie now up... and Primetime up as well... Primetime now climbing up... and Frenchie nails him with a forearm before bringing him up to the second rope... and now he hooks him for a bodyslam? No... he brings him up... and there's a Michinoku Driver off the top rope!
Finn: Off the top rope! Good God!
Armstrong: I'm going to rename it the Frenchie Driver!
Finn: Rather than go for the cover, however, Frenchie signals to the crowd that it's definitely over now...and he's climbing up top. He's up there now...and I think he's going for the 450!
Finn: He goes for it... but wait... Primetime gets up to his feet and staggers into the ropes... and Frenchie is crotched!
Armstrong: Ack! We can't have that! There must be a continuation in the Delacroix dynasty!
Finn: Good lord, we don't need little Frenchie's running around. Primetime now hooks Frenchie under his arm, and there's a hip toss off the top rope! Primetime for the cover, but instead he brings Frenchie up by the mask, and now he hooks him between his legs... he's going for it, and if he hits it, it's all over!
Finn: Primetime Bomb! Primetime Bomb! Primetime Bomb!
FINN: THRE - NO~! Frenchie kicked out at the last possible tenth of a second!
Finn: Primetime is frustrated, he cannot comprehend how his friend kicked out of his finisher! Usually after he hits that, it's all but over!
Finn: This has been a long and grueling match, and that incredible move a moment ago took a hell of a lot out of the Frenchie.
Finn: Primetime going up to the top rope... and now he's climbing the cage. What does he have in mind?
Armstrong: I don't know, but if he doesn't hit this move, he's going to splat in the center of the ring and possibly never walk again!
Roberts: He's nuts! I can't believe he doesn't just go for something simple here -
Finn: But what? Frenchie just kicked out of his coup de grace, I think Primetime has to reach into his bag of tricks and pull out a move that'll finish Frenchie for good. Primetime at the top of the cage, and listen to that reaction from the crowd. Primetime... is going to... fly!
Finn: And fly he does! Frogsplash - no! Frenchie moved, and Primetime hits the mat!
Finn: The impact just rocked St. Louis! Frenchie is concerned for his friend, but at the same time he wants to retain the title here. Frenchie goes for a cover...
Finn: No! How in the hell did he do that? Tell me how! These men are not human!
Finn: Frenchie now pulls his close, long-time personal friend up by the hair, and now... there's a Samoan Drop! But rather than go for another pin, Frenchie signals to the top rope...
Finn: The fans beginning to rise to their feet because they know Frenchie is going for the 450, and once he hits it, the match HAS to be over. It just has to! Rarely anyone kicks out of it... and now Frenchie climbing up... and no... he points to the top of the cage! If he hits this, mark my words, print it, this match is over.
Roberts: 450 off the top of the cage? He's insane, baby, insane!
Armstrong: Just because you never had the balls to take risks like this; Stevie, doesn't mean you have to knock the Frenchie.
Finn: Frenchie to the top of the cage... and my god...
Finn: Somebody stop him... someone, anybody, stop this man!
Finn: He flies off...
Roberts: God, baby!
Finn: 810?! 810 off the top of the cage, but Primetime somehow inconceivably rolled out of the way just in the nick of time!
Finn: Primetime now pulls himself up via the ropes... and he falls onto the Frenchie! He couldn't stay up, and I don't blame him one bit! Cover!
Finn: No! Frenchie got his foot on the ropes at two and three quarters! Primetime rolls off of Frenchie, and both men are down and out of it here. Wait... Primetime has a little bit more left in the tank... and he brings Frenchie up and there's a kneelift to the midsection, now he waistlocks him and goes for a back suplex? Nope... he positions him on the top rope once more.
Armstrong: If you remember last time, he went for a Russian Legsweep that damn near won the match for him. Could he be going for it again?
Finn: Doesn't appear to be, James. He climbs through the middle ropes... out onto the ring apron. Taking his time here he climbs up to the top rope... he hits Frenchie with a forearm, and another. And now he hooks him between his legs... piledriver off the top rope?
Finn: No... he's going for the Primetime Bomb off the top rope! My god!
Finn: And he hits it!
Armstrong: New champ.
Roberts: Indeed, baby!
Finn: He hooks both legs as he rolls him up...
FINN: THREE! THREE! THREE! Primetime has done it! He's done it here at Trapped! And while the fans may not like either man, they certainly are applauding both of their efforts! Rightfully so! They deserve it!
Armstrong: Four words: Match of the year.
Roberts: Four more words: Sex, sex, and sex!
Finn: The referee retrieves the title, and Primetime staggering around the ring... he checks over the Frenchie while the referee comes back in and begins strapping the fWo World Title around his waist... Primetime helping Frenchie up now... and the referee goes to raise Primetime's hand, but Frenchie pushes him out of the way, and raises Primetime's hand!
Armstrong: What a night, Finn. What a night.
Finn: Frenchie and Primetime embrace, both men covered in sweat and tears here... Primetime has regained the fWo World Title. And with that said, I'd like to remind you all that tomorrow night we have a huge Slaughter planned from Kansas City, and next month we'll have an interesting concept as we present our next pay-per-view - Body Count!
Finn: For James Armstrong...
Armstrong: I think I'm going to cry... hold me...
Finn: And Stevie Roberts...
Roberts: Time to go find a female worthy of the Steviester and shag, baby! Shag!
Finn: I'm Chris Finn, saying so long and goodnight from the Kiel Center in St. Louis!
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