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[Part 12]: Chances
[A black bag is resting on an empty bench, clothes are scattered across the floor, and "The Dark Horse" sits alone in his locker room. Tonight, Mike Sloan didn’t even bother to bring his fiancée to the arena because he was afraid of the carnage that will most likely occur.]
Mike Sloan: It has been almost ten years since I have had to climb a ladder to get to the top.
[His face tilted down, entranced in thought.]
Mike Sloan: Six years since I’ve had to reach up to grab gold dangling from above.
[With his recent loss on his mind he prepares for BACW’s first event of the New Year.]
Mike Sloan: Just recently, I found out what it felt like to be back in the lime light. Just recently, I found out that the most hunted man in the entire NeWA feared me…
[A smirk appears on his face.]
Mike Sloan: Dunn, you bit off more than you can chew when you sucker punched me at GGG. You might have saved your buddy Jacobs from a beating, but you have just earned yourself a shallow grave.
[The camera pans to around to the face of Mike Sloan, he raises his head, bruises run down the side of his face, a bandage covers a gash on his forehead. ]
Mike Sloan: Spectre, Mr. Madman of the BACW, there will be ladders in our ring tonight. Twenty feet in the air our titles will hang, gloriously over our heads. One of them will be my Regional title; the one I survived Matt McClain for. The other, your BACW heavyweight championship; the one that I helped you keep against Darrel Besolve. Tonight, your BACW Championship is safe in my hands. It will leave the arena with me, but your body will lay broken across the ladders and carnage that is left in the ring.”
[He reaches up and wipes the sweat from his eye.]
Mike Sloan: “Tonight, I will hold the BACW Heavyweight Title in my hands and you will have lost it again. Then, when you are carried away in the meat wagon, you will finally realize that "The Dark Horse" is not to be F'd WITH!”
[The camera cuts back to the ring.]
[Part 13]: Main Event Ladder Match - Spectre (c) Vs. Mike Sloan (c)
[Ding! Ding! Ding!]
Michael Stuffher: Ladies and gentlemen, THIS is our main event of the evening and it's to be held under ladder match rules. This means both titles will hang from the cable above, and the man who pulls those titles down, will be the winner!
[The lights dim and with the ladders put into place; the challenger's music is piped into the building.]
Crowd: [BOO!]
This is because of what you did to me....
[The airy, hollow voice penetrates the p.a. system.]
This is what I become.....
[The voice is close to being recognizable, but at the same time it is unknown to us.]
My pain will become yours.....
Stuffher: And now to first introduce to you the challenger.
[A dark figure is produced on the screen. Bright white lights flash behind him, illuminating his
figure. And the first bass and acoustic riff begins to sound out.]v
#You take a mortal man, #
[His blond hair on top is only a fraction of an inch long. You can see the places where he has been scared from multiple battles in his life.]
#And put him in control #
[His head begins to lift, so slightly that the only thing that is produced in the time is the top of a spike that comes from his eyebrow.]
#Watch him become a god,#
[A scar runs from his forehead lateral to his left ear It's so slight, because of the time and money that
was spent to reduce the size.]
#Watch peoples heads a'roll #
[The first thing that is recognizable is the blue eyes. They hold more emotion than the face itself. They were once caring, but something has taken all that away. They are full of disdain and contempt now.]
#A'roll...#
[The spot lights area towards the entrance ramp. The crowd jumps to its feet to see him again. The chorus
hits the PA system and about that time a stray light catches a glimpse of the man we once knew far away
from the ring, in the crowd. Standing like a monster, scared of nothing, he makes his movements to the ring.]
#Just like the Pied Piper Led rats through the streets
We dance like marionettes, Swaying to the Symphony...
Of Destruction #
[His attire features two new things. He has donned a black shirt that states, in red lettering, Respect is
not earned; it's taken. The second item is a pair of thigh length, spandex shorts. Across the back it
states, T D H. Down his left thigh the word that is stated is Scorned. Down his right thigh is the word,
Disrespected; a black towel covers his head so that no one can know who this is, if the piercing and the
eyes didn't tell you who it was then you will have to wait.]
#Acting like a robot, #
[He makes his way to the ring side area, he places one foot on the step and reaches out his hand and
grabs the ring post.]
#Its metal brain corrodes. #
[He pauses for the fans and then makes his way up the steps.]
#You try to take its pulse, #
[He walks the outer edge of the ring and places his back against the ropes and waits.]
#Before the head explodes. #
[As soon as this line hits his head launches back and the covering it tossed off revealing to the world
that this man is Mike Sloan. ]
#Explodes... #
[The chorus hits again as he makes his way into the ring.]
#Just like the Pied Piper Led rats through the streets We dance like marionettes, Swaying to the
Symphony... Of Destruction #
Stuffher: Now entering the ring...
[He leans over and picks up his towel and hangs it on the far right turnbuckle.]
#The earth starts to rumble#
Stuffher: He is BACW's Northeastern regional champion!
[The red insignia, TDH is embroidered into it also.]
#World powers fall#
Stuffher: Standing 6 foot 2 inches in height...
[He pulls his torso out of the shirt and tosses it to the floor.]
#A'warring for the heavens, #
Stuffher: ... weighing two hundred and forty five pounds...
[He places his back against the corner and stretches his back over the ropes, popping every vertebrate
there.]
#A peaceful man stands tall #
Stuffher: "The Dark Horse" - Mike Sloan!
[He stands a man with nothing to lose and everything to gain from this point on.]
Crowd: [BOO!]
Promo: Sloan comes into this match after losing to Chris Jacobs in the NeWA X division title match at Gold Guts & Glory and Sloan isn't happy about it.
Cavenaugh: I spoke with Sloan before the show and he told me, he's hell bent on messing Spectre up to the point of no return. And after that last stunt he just pulled with me, I hope Sloan breaks him in half with one of these fucking ladders.
Promo: Hey! You can't curse on this show!
Cavenaugh: I just did!
Promo: Well Mr. Batee will deal with you after the show... But on the subject of the champion, here he comes!
[The lights go out and "Memphisto" by Depeche Mode begins to play. An ominous fog and an eerie purple glow fill the arena. Fog flows out from behind the entrance curtain.]
Spectre: Heh... heheheh... heh... heh-heh... hehehhehehehe...
[The Spectre emerges from behind the curtain wheeling down a two-wheel dolly with a 55-gallon drum strapped to it. On the side of the barrel, spray painted in bright purple, are the words "WHOMP ASS JUICE". The lid to the barrel is sealed shut, so the contents of the barrel are a mystery to all who look on; that is for now.]
Spectre: Heh... heheheh... heh... heh-heh... hehehhehehehe...
[The Spectre is wearing his traditional black pants with the word "SPECTRE" running down the left pant leg and written in white. On the seat of the pants written in neon orange is the word "FREAK".]
Spectre: Heh... heheheh... heh... heh-heh... hehehhehehehe...
[On the front of his purple U-neck tanktop, written in neon green are the words "TOTAL DEVESTATION", while on the back is a new phrase "2008-The Year of the Sadistic Nut", also written in neon green.]
Spectre: Heh... heheheh... heh... heh-heh... hehehhehehehe...
[His hands have purple fingerless gloves on them, and he has black pads on his elbows. The belt around his waist is made out of a chain link.]
Spectre: Heh... heheheh... heh... heh-heh... hehehhehehehe...
[The Spectre makes his way to the ring with the dolly and parks it off to one side near the ring so that "WHOMP ASS JUICE" is in plain view facing the ring. Spectre smirks as he rubs and caresses the barrel, before stepping into the ring.]
Promo: Whomp ass juice?
Cavenaugh: I can only imagine where he went to collect that...
Stuffher: And now ladies and gentlemen, coming down the aisle, weighing in at 299 pounds and residing from The Deepest Corners of Your Mind, he is the current BACW Heavyweight Champion. He is BACW's Sadistic Nut. This is the Purple Haired Freak... THE SPECTRE!!!
Crowd: [POP!] YEAH!!
Promo: The tale of the tape for this match shows Sloan and Spectre are equal in the size category so there's no advantage there for either man.
Cavenaugh: It will also be in Spectre's best interest to try and go toe to toe with Sloan in a technical fashion since Sloan loves extreme werstling. Rather Spectre needs to establish himself as being in control EARLY by maybe injuring Sloan's shoulder or hip.
Promo: Whatever strategy the champion takes on tonight, I know one thing's for sure.
Cavenaugh: You're a woman trapped in a man's body?
Promo: [Ignoring the comment] Sloan's going to get extreme!
[LIGHTS OUT!]v
[Part 10]: Project X
[The arena goes pitch black, no lighting effects, no smoke, no mirrors no nothing, just vast emptiness, the absence of everything. Silence rings out as the crowd stares in anticipation, in bewilderment of the sudden blackout.]
Promo: This isn't on my format...
Cavenaugh: Why would you say that?
Promo: For one, there are no entrances on my program, and both the competitors are already in the ring.
Cavenaugh: Then what the hell is going on with the lights?
Promo: I'm not really sure...
Cavenaugh: Maybe someone dropped a toaster in a bathtub?
[The video screen lights up, sort of, a black screen lights up the contrast to a lack of image and an image of blackness is subtle but noticeable the crowd's attention turns. The competitors in the ring stare at the black screen, suddenly a pulsating white "x" appears on the screen, switching between black and white, alternating colors with the background, shrinking and growing. The screen splits into 4 then 8 then 16 squares each containing an "x" of their own. The screens merge and split rapidly, wildly, the colors continue to pulsate and change, the images are almost hypnotic.]
Promo: I'm completely confused.
[Words begin to flash across the screen, scribbled in bright red block letters,; the previously mentioned pattern plays out behind the words.]
"DREAMS"
"LIES"
"FRAUD"
"COWARDS"
"FALSE IDOLS"
"BROKEN DREAMS"
"DON'T BELIEVE YOUR EYES"
"MONEY IS THE ROOT OF EVIL"
"DON'T LISTEN TO YOUR EARS"
"YOUR DREAM IS A LIE""
"HOPE IS HOPELESS"
"TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE"
"LIES"
"DREAMS"
"DEATH OF POWER"
"RISE OF TRUTH"
"TRUTH IS COMING"
"TRUTH IS SOON"
"THE PROJECT HAS BEGUN"
"TRUTH LIES BEFORE YOU"
"YOUR DREAM IS A LIE"
"THE TRUTH DOES NOT"
"LISTEN TO THE TRUTH, IGNORE THE LIES"
"DEATH TO BACW"
"FOLLOW THE X"
"ILLUSSIONS"
"APPARITIONS"
"PHONY"
"PROJECT X"
"YOUR DREAM IS A LIE"
[The words disappear, the crowd murmurs, and talks about what they just saw. The screen goes blank, the lights turn on.]
Promo: Do have any idea what we just witnessed?
Cavenaugh: I don't know, but if I have to pull out my gun one more time, someone's getting shot!
Promo: Would you PLEASE put that away!
[Back in the ring, a single drop of blood falls onto the gold belt as it lies in the hand of the referee. Then a second, a third, and finally it starts to rain blood from the ceiling. The crowd's attention is drawn as they look to the sky for the source and zooming in, we see find a figure bound, and hanging like a piñata from the contraption intended to hold the title belts.]
Promo: OH MY GOD! That's a...that's a person! What the hell?!?!
Cavenaugh: What the hell is right, but who is it?!?!
[The body lowers as the crowd gasps in shock and horror, the smattering of children throughout the crowd begin to cry, women cringe and men stare in shock like they're looking at a car crash. Both competitors ignore any animosity they have between each other as they panic in the ring waving frantically for assistance.]
Promo: Whoever that is, they're in bad shape.
[As the body gets closer to the ring, it suddenly becomes very obvious who this is being lowered to the ring. Across the black shirt that the man wears are the purple letters of "P & D". This man being lowered to the ring is BACW icon, Sam Natas]
Promo: Holy Jesus! That's Sam Natas! What the....?
Cavenaugh: After tonight's loss to the TSS, looks like somebody got to Sam and showed him what BACW is supposed to be about. Now I don't particularly care for most of BACW's roster, but Sam Natas is the "father of evil" and I can't condone this action
[As the body reaches its destination just above the ring, it stops and hangs, still motionless as small drops of blood continue to fall to the ring. Natas has been marked with the word "FRAUD", printed on a sign in front of his ravaged body. As security rushes into the ring to get Natas down from his "hanging", the camera turns away from the gruesome scene focusing on the disheveled commentary team as EMT's and security personnel try to get ordered restored.]
Promo: I… I don't know what to say fans, something very bad has happened and I'm not sure why or how but I don't think it's a coincidence that this mysterious video played right before this gruesome and graphic demonstration was revealed to the world. I don't know what or who is Project X, but it or they have made a bold statement here tonight.
Cavenaugh: That they have... but why Sam Natas... and why BACW?
Promo: I don't know Mike, I really don't know, but I can't think right now, so we have to cut to an interview or an ad or something… I can't think right now and the ring is a mess.
[Ding! Ding! Ding!]
Cavenaugh: Looks like that's not going to be an option.
[Ding! Ding! Ding!]
Referee: Cut him down, hang the belts, and ring the bell!
Promo: Folks, the referee has called for the bell, and Sam Natas has been rushed to hospital! It's time for our main event to begin. Its Spectre verses Sloan for all the marbles, and here we GO!
[Circling and maneuvering around the ladders that are placed inside the ring, both men lock horns over the logo in a push and pull collar tie. Backing Spectre up into the corner, the referee calls for a clean break but Sloan tries to quickly unload with a speedy right hook that Spectre skillfully avoids. Reversal in the corner by Spectre and firing into Sloan's chest with a huge knife chop...]
Crowd: WOOOOOOOO!
[...the champion applies a chicken wing, and rotating Sloan in a circular motion, slams his shoulder against the turnbuckle over and over again.]
Crowd: [Getting behind champion] Spectre! Spectre! Spectre!
Promo: Spectre is going old school and stepping over the top ropes, he brings Sloan's arm down across the nylon snapping it back into the air with one violent motion as he leaps off the apron.
Sloan: [Down on one knee and gripping his shoulder in pain.] ARGHHH!!!
Crowd: [YEAH!]
Cavenaugh: I like the aggressiveness of the champion and he really needs to take advantage of Sloan's slow start.
Promo: The shoulder appears to be where he wants to start but who knows if that's where he's going to end up.
[CRACK!]
Crowd: [YEAH!]
Mike Sloan: [Now gripping his knee] OH!!!
[Back into the ring, Spectre now rams Sloan's shoulder with one of the ladders and leaning the one he's holding up in the corner, the champion winds up into an arm ringer. On his tippy toes Sloan gingerly tries to alleviate the pressure in his elbow but Spectre tomahawks joint adding insult to injury.]
Promo: It looks like Spectre's trying to eliminate Sloan's ability to reach up and grab the two titles.
Cavenaugh: Strategy? All Spectre needs to do is use the ladder as a weapon to inflict pain and injury on Sloan to the point where Sloan is either dead or close to it. Then the fat bastard can take a week or so to grab the belts if he wants and I can go home.
Promo: Come one Mike, you know Spectre's not fat, he's just big boned.
Cavenaugh: Like Anna Nicole?
Promo: [Slaps himself in the forehead.] ...
[Lifting the regional champion on his shoulders, Spectre tries to launch Sloan head first, like a dart, straight into ladder but Sloan wiggles down his back. The momentum carries Spectre within inches of the ladder, and stopping short of the rungs, he points to his temple, telling the crowd how smart he is.]
Crowd: [POP!]
[Backing up while the champion panders to the crowd, Sloan takes a running start and leaping into the air...]
[CLANG!]
Spectre: [AAH!!!]
Promo: Drop kick to Spectre's back and the champion eats the rungs of the ladder hard!
Cavenaugh: That'll give him a little iron in his diet.
[With Spectre face first on the ladder that's leaning up in the corner, Sloan backs up into opposite corner for a second time and racing forward, delivers a high knee to the back of Spectre's head. The impact immediately busts open the champion's eye like a zit, and positioning Spectre upside-down on the ladder, the regional champion ties him to the extreme tree of woe.]
Crowd: [BOO!]
Mike Sloan: [Stomping away.]
Spectre: AUGH! Ugh! OoGh! Ooo!
Crowd: One... two... three... four... five.... six.... seven... eight... nine... TEN!!!! [BOO!]
Promo: Hard stomps open the already existing wound creating a sea of crimson, and as it pools under Spectre's head, he slumps off the side of the ladder with a thump.
[KA-plop!]
Cavenaugh: Sloan drags the ladder off the turnbuckle and setting it up in the center of the ring, begins to climb towards both titles!
Crowd: [BOO!]
Promo: Spectre is desperately trying to clear the blood from his eyes but I don't think he's going to make it in time!
Crowd: [Stomping.]
Cavenaugh: The champion is pulling himself with the aid of the ropes but there is no way in hell he's going to reach Sloan in time!
[As Sloan painfully reaches up for the heavyweight title with his sore shoulder, Spectre hurls his battered body into the ladder and as it starts to tip, the crowd fills with extreme excitement.]
Mike Sloan: [Riding the top of the ladder and shaking his head] No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no!
Crowd: [OOO!!!!]
Mike Sloan: [GAH!!!!]
Promo: Sloan is crotched on the top rope!
Crowd: [POP!]
Mike Sloan: [Looking down at his privates] OOOOOH!!!!
Crowd: [POP!]
Promo: Sloan topples back into the ring, and Spectre also collapses!
Cavenaugh: Sloan might be hurt, but he's still managing to get to his feet first!
Crowd: [BOO!]
[Pulling the bloody Spectre to his feet by his purple hair, Sloan tries to Olympic slam the 300 plus pound champion and as the two come crashing down onto the ladder with a brutal and ackward crunch!]
Cavenaugh: Spectre's body just crushed Sloan's head against the rungs!
Promo: Oh my God!
Cavenaugh: That couldn't have been good for th regional champion.
Crowd: [You fucked up! You fucked up! You fucked up!]
Promo: Both men are down and would you look at the blood squirting from the head of Mike Sloan! It's like shooting out like a Chinese karate movie!
Cavenaugh: Spectre seems to be getting a second wind and this can't be good news for the regional champion who's losing tons of blood by the second.
Crowd: Bad ASS Wrestling! Bad ASS Wrestling! Bad ASS Wrestling!
[Dragging Sloan to his feet as the blood continues to pours onto the canvas, Spectre tosses him over the top rope and tumbling onto the small mats, Sloan crashes against the 55 gallon drum of Whomp ASS. Pursuing his opponent over the top rope, a rejuvenated Spectre lifts the barrel into the air...]
Crowd: [OOO!]
[...and clobbering Sloan across the skull with it, the blood splatters onto the ringside fans.]
[THUNK!]
Crowd: [OOO!]
Mike Sloan: [Hitting the mats like a sack of dirt.] UGH!
[Snap!]
Spectre: [Looking to Sloan with dried blood caked all over his face.] IT'S OVER!
Crowd: [POP!]
[Clang!]
Promo: Spectre pushes another ladder into the ring, and setting it up under the titles, the blood crusted heavyweight champion looks to secure end the match.
Cavenaugh: The ladder is shaking all over the place and Spectre better watch out because here comes a very motivated Mike Sloan back into the ring with hate in his eyes!
Promo: He's not going to be in time, and Spectre's got one of the belts! All he needs to do is pull it off the hook!
Cavenaugh: Pretend it's a Twinkie!
Crowd: [Rumbling with anticipation.]
[Reaching through the rungs from the opposite side of the ladder, Sloan backhands Spectre right in the nuts and this forces the heavyweight champion to double over the ladder in pain. Seeing Spectre's belt, Sloan goes for the weapon looking to really put an exclaimation point on the match.]
Promo: Sloan just undid Spectre's chain belt!
Cavenaugh: If his pants fall down, and I see a big hairy ass, I'm SO out of here!
[Wrapping the chain around Spectre's neck and getting onto the side of the ladder, Sloan throws himself off to the side...]
Crowd: [OH!]
[...and the two hit the canvas with a sick thud!]
Cavenaugh: Neck breaker from hell connects!
Promo: OH MY GOD!!!!
Cavenaugh: Oh my God is right! Fifteen feet off the ladder onto the hard canvas and Spectre is knocked out cold!
Crowd: Bad ASS Wrestling! Bad ASS Wrestling! Bad ASS Wrestling!
Cavenaugh: You have to love these fans in BACW! Listen to them chant!
Crowd: Bad ASS Wrestling! Bad ASS Wrestling! Bad ASS Wrestling!
[Rolling to the outside and flopping down onto the small mats, Sloan looks up to see Spectre's "Whomp Ass" barrel has been opened by the previous blow to his head.]
Promo: Reaching into the barrel, Sloan pulls out a pair of leg shackles, and rolling back into the ring, the crowd expresses their disapproval.
Crowd: [BOO!]
Cavenaugh: Sloan is shackling Spectre's legs together!
Crowd: [BOO!]
Promo: Spectre is shackled limiting his ability to move around the ring and opening up a ladder, it's Sloan who once again is in position to climb.
Crowd: Let's go Spectre... Let's go! Let's go Spectre... Let's go! Let's go Spectre... Let's go!
[Pulling himself up the ladder rung by rung, Sloan finally gets to the top and taking hold of one of the belts, begins to unhook it. On the ground, Spectre sees his championship reign coming to an end and kicking the ladder with all his might, Sloan has no choice but to ride the ladder all the way down to the top rope. The ladder hits the nylon, launching the regional champion into the air and...]
[CRAAAAASH!!!!!]
Crowd: [WHOA!]
Promo: OH MY GOD!!!!!
[...Sloan is catapulted over the railing finally coming to rest somewhere in the crowd.]
Crowd: Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!
Promo: Sloan just toppled into the crowd from the ring and there are fans lying all over the place!
Crowd: Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!
Cavenaugh: Women, children, and wheelchair people are most likely crushed to death and amongst the carnage of human flesh, somewhere in that pile of humanity lays Mike Sloan!
Crowd: Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!
Promo: The fans are still chanting as security scrambles into action meanwhile inside the ring; Spectre is stumbling to his feet.
Crowd: Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!
Cavenaugh: He's got one of the ladders but the shackles trip him up and down goes the heavyweight champion!
Crowd: [Laughter.]
[Pounding his fist on the canvas, Spectre tries again and this time he gets the ladder back into position under the titles. Carefully climbing up towards the belts, Spectre pauses to wipe the blood from his eyes.]
Crowd: [Cheering]
Promo: Are you serious? Is Mike Sloan really getting up?
Crowd: [BOO!]
Promo: Spectre sees Sloan rolling into the ring, but he can't climb any faster with those shackles on!
Cavenaugh: With or without the shackles, he's still going to have a hard time.
[Reaching for the regional title, Spectre tries to unhook it when Sloan spears the ladder from the side lifting it passed the upright position.]
Promo: My God! The ladder's tipping again and Spectre's got the leg shackled caught!
Cavenaugh: He's coming this way Promo! MOVE!!!!!
Spectre: [Riding the ladder out of the ring] GET OUT OF THE WAAAAY PAAAAUL!
Promo: I CAN'T!!!!
[CRAAAACKKKK!!!!!]
[POOOOPPPPPP!!!!]
[SNAAAAAP!!!!]
[KA-FUCKING THUUUUMP!!!!]
Crowd: [OH!] You're hardcore! You're hardcore! You're hardcore!
Cavenaugh: I don't know what to say! Paul Prominski has been crushed by The Spectre who's still shackled and covered with debris from our announcer's table! Inside the ring, a blood caked Mike Sloan is smiling and I guess I'm going solo from this point on!
Crowd: You're hardcore! You're hardcore! You're hardcore!
Cavenaugh: The crowd is going completely nuts as Spectre as Mike Sloan have definitely taken this match to the extreme! Inside the ring, Sloan has already begun his championship climb with blood pouring down his face and believe it or not, Spectre is trying to get to his feet. As Sloan wipes the blood, once again cascading into his eye to the side, he finally unhooks one of the two belts, and the crowd starts to boo as a new era in BACW is now upon us. MIKE SLOAN IS OUR BRAND NEW BACW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION!!!
Crowd: [BOO!]
Cavenaugh: I don't believe it! Mike Sloan has become the NEW Heavyweight champion and sitting on the top of the ladder, he raises the title into the...
[Furious and full of hate, the shackled Spectre crawls back into the ring and pushing the ladder over...]
[THUD!]
[...Sloan crashes against the turnbuckle finally falling lifelessly onto the floor with the title in his hands!]
Crowd: You're hardcore! You're hardcore! You're hardcore!
Cavenaugh: There is one title still left hanging and positioning the ladder under the belt, The Spectre gradually climbs with Sloan barely moving on the floor.
The Spectre: [Reaching up for the regional belt with a curious look on his face.] What the hell?
Cavenaugh: Unhooking the final title, the exhausted and injured Spectre clutches the championship and I guess he's just happy to have a title around his waist after the war he's just been through.
Crowd: [Mixed reaction]
[Ding! Ding! Ding!]
Stuffher: Ladies and gentlemen, we have two winners! The first belt to be pulled off by Mike Sloan makes him...
[Zooming into the arms of Mike Sloan, you can see the regional championship cradled in his blood covered arms.]
Stuffher: BACW's Northeastern regional champion!
Crowd: [YEAH!!!]
Stuffher: And this means, he is STILL your BACW Heavyweight champion; The Spectre!
Crowd: [POP!]
Cavenaugh: I don't believe it! The blood was running down into his eye so much that Mike Sloan grabbed the wrong title! Spectre was defeated! Spectre was done! But because Sloan couldn't see, it will cost him BACW's ultimate prize! Paul Prominski has been rushed to the hospital! Mike Sloan is getting medical attention here at ringside, and we are completely out of time!
Crowd: [Chanting]
Cavenaugh: I'm Michael "Snake Eyes" Cavenaugh saying good night from 2008 Ways to Bleed! And for all those who followed BACW in 2007, have a Happy New Year!
[Part 14]: Driving home my point
[The final scene of this brutal video package plays with the camera following a trail of blood. Panning up to occasionally show picture of Mr. Batee shaking the hand of wrestlers like Mike Cavenaugh and Lee Riel, we move into the all white bedroom where "PIGS" is written in what appears to be blood on the wall. Someone has tried to duplicate the Tate Labianca murder scene but for what sick purpose we still aren't sure. Finally coming to rest on the silk sheets, we bare witness to Mr. Batee's bikini clad wife laying there in a pool of her own blood. The blood is caked so thick on her body that in contrast to her swimsuit, she almost appears nude. Taking careful note of her forehead, we see what appear to be about 10 staples brutally driven into her skull. Taking his hand and running it down the center of her voluptuous chest allowing his fingers to shake from the sick pleasure running through his groin, the stalker pools the gathered blood into her belly button.]
????? ????: [In a deep voice] Yeeeeeeeeeeeeees!
[Placing the camera on the side table, the stalker sits on the bed horizontal to the lifeless body. Propping up the camera on a bible, we finally see none other than Chris Ross. With bandages wrapped around his head, his eyes swollen purple, and holding a staple gun in his hand, he lets out a sadistic laugh as the crowd reminds completely stunned.]
Chris Ross: Hello Batee... I know you're watching from the Hamemerstien... You think you're real cute huh? Maybe you thought that you were out of the woods after what you allowed Spectre to do with me?
[Chris glides his bloody fingers up Mrs. Batee's leg stopping just short of her bikini line. Yanking back from disgust, he makes a fist.]
Ross: WELL THINK AGAIN BATEE!!!
[Ross licks the blood from his knuckles unable to control his sense of presence.]
Ross: Now given what happened, I'm not ungrateful and I do commend you on finally giving me a title shot...
[Now twirling Mrs. Batee's angelic hair, Ross's eyes rolling into the back of his head and his jagged teeth clench with rage.]
Ross: But what do you do afterwards? You leave me off the card!!! Almost like you forgot about me... Abandoned! Throw to the side like an unwanted abortion! And you KNOW... I don't like it when people forget about me.
Fan: [Yells] And don't you forget it!
Crowd: [Cheap pop]
Ross: So as I sat at home in Hawaii I was thinking I could easily roll into that arena and kick the living crap out of you... But then something clicked or snapped... depending on which end you're on.
[Ross chuckles as he runs his tongue across the cold steel of the staple gun.]
Ross: It all started to make sense as to why you've been ducking me all this time. You see unlike the others you've managed to screw over in the pass, you know like Mike Cavenaugh, La Sombra, and Lee Riel...
[Ross looks down at Batee's wife with repugnance as she continues to hemorrhage on the bed.]
Ross: You see Batee I know you're pretty upset right now so let me cut to the chase. I want your sorry ass in a match and not some ordinary match either! I challenge you to a Hawaiian Street Fight! No Rules! No Ref! Not even a real way to determine a winner! I want you to feel the pain that I felt as Spectre's 300 pound plus body practically crushed my skull against the concrete. And remember Batee... it's in your families best interest to accept this match!
[Ross reaches over and yanks Batee's wife off the bed by the hair. Jamming her blood covered face into the camera; he immediately discards her lifeless body onto the floor.]
Ross: Because if you don't... this may just happen again!
[Turning the blood smudged camera on himself, Ross jams a staple into his own forehead. As the blood trickles, Chris trembles in place.]
Ross: How does it feel Batee? How does it feel knowing I just probably hospitalized the love of your life and you weren't here to stop it!? See this is nothing but Karma biting you in the ass for all the stuff you let slide! See, if no one is going to put your sorry ass in line, then I guess I will have to do it!
[Ross shudders with resentment letting out a lions roar as a sharp pain fires from temple to temple.]
Ross: ARRGH!!! The headaches! ARRRGGH!!!
[Taking a bottle of pills out of his pocket, he pops 2 capsules into his mouth and swallows.]
Ross: In the year 2008, the name Chris Ross will remain unforgotten! I am Chris Ross and Batee...
Ross & Crowd [In unison] DON'T-YOU-FORGET IT!!!
[With those final words said, the show is over.]
end PPV
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