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EDIT: Original Title "Watts after unsanctioned match."

Spencer Watts sits in the locker room bloodied with various sized gashes across his body. Slight streaks of blood mixed with water are left where a wet towel was used to wipe away the wounds as they are tend to. Watts smiles in between the flinches of pain as the medical staff cleans and stitch his wounds.

"I told you Ki-King.. I told you if you got in my way again I'd dethrone you..."

He takes a few deep breaths and pushes the medical staff away for a moment as he stands physcially broken but mentally and emotionally stronger than ever.

"When you sit at home in your castle, or your double wide, whatever you may call your kingdom, I want you to tune in to Rise of Kings and watch the 'Peasant' that took everything you had and still came out on top, the 'Peasant' that beat you at your own game, and most importantly the 'Peasant' that made good on his promise and dethroned The Mad King win the Light Heavyweight title and become your new King of the Light Heavyweights!"

Spencer grabs his ribs in pain and sits back on the bench as the medical staff rush to patch him up.

"Ya know what, I'll even go as far to dedicate that match to not only my Dad, but to you too. I told you, you made me the wrestler I am right now, whether you ment to or not. So for that I owe you... So right now, as a man of my word, I promise when I win that title and become the King of the Light Heavyweights... Rex Camalote... Mad King.... You get first dibs."


Spencer then lays back on the bench exhausted as staff continue to tend to him and the cameraman leaves the locker room.

(The scene opens in an old boxing gym. “Insane” Jack Lane is standing inside of a ring soaked in sweat. Trainers attend to his sparring partner who has been knocked out. Lane leans on the top ropes and untapes his fists while looking in the camera.)

Lane: So I’ve been chilling for a minute since I beat Snow on Assault. A lot of people wanna know if I was REALLY gonna go after that bounty from Brawler Beckett. The answer to that.......was no! Snow is a dude I respect in the ring and outta the ring but also a guy I wanted to prove something to. To qualify for the Light Heavyweight Title I beat a LEGEND and I did it all on my own! Now I get to face 3 of the best athletes in PWA for the right to be the champion.

Derrick Arzon, Pantaro, and Spencer Watts are on my radar and I’ve been getting ready for the fight of my life. But let me tell you fans something: I’ve got a BIG problem with Spencer Watts!

(Lane throws his tape at the camera as his voice rises.)

Lane: The homie’s got skills and heart, no question. I heard him talking after he fought Rex Camelot and I was cool with everything......until he promised his first title match to Rex!!

Watts, who the HELL do you think you are, huh? You think this match is gonna be EASY? You think I’m gonna LAY DOWN for you so that you can be champion? You think you already have this match WON?

(Lane leaps over the top rope and lands in front of the camera. He points at the camera with an intense stare.)

Lane: That was the ULTIMATE slap in the face but guess what? I SLAP BACK!! At Rise of Kings I plan on leaving as champion but I also plan on bringing the PAIN to you, my man!! Arzon, Pantaro......I look forward to seeing you in the ring. Watts......YOU’RE MINE!!!

(Scene fades.)

Johnny Ecks is seen looking like he is in deep thought. Losing was one thing to him, but losing because of a bad partner was another thing.

As the sweat pours down on his head he turns on the water and showers on ahead.

JX: So...We lost due to some ancient old bastard couldn't make a save. This is why I need you man. I need the Mysterious jAi 1. I need the Suicide King to ride a long with me. I need the aMx back together, so we can run this joint.

Not an old decrepit falling apart hasbeen. Not, an old jackoff who couldnt handle two studs like you and me. I wanna roll with you, yah dig?

Back in the day, you and I ran the old place, we can do it still today. I know, you got a family now, you and Melly got three youngsters, but it doesn't mean you can't do your thing in the ring. Come back brother. I need the Mysterious One to do his thing here.

Scene fades to black....

*Terry Schnieder is in the training facilities of PWA, watching as Derrik Arzon stands on one foot, balancing a china tea set on his head and making strange signs and patterns with his hands.*

TERRY: "We are here with 'Lightning' Derrik Arzon as he... erm... prepares.... for his title shot in the Endleas Four-Way Dance at Rise of Kings. Derrik Arzon, I have to ask the question on everyone's mind.... What in God's name are you doing?"

DERRIK: "I'm finding my Inner Snake, Terry. It's a great training method Junior Cobra showed me! It's all about building balance and confidence, as well as working the trapeze muscles, glutens, and quadriplegics!"

TERRY: ".................yeah. Any thoughts on the upcoming Four-Way Dance?"

DERRIK: "I'm going to be in the ring with the best light heavyweights, minus Junior Cobra, of course, in PWA! This is going to be a MATCH for the AGES! and I need to be ready! Of course, I want to extend my goodwill to the other competitors and take them all out for burgers before our match but.... well.... Mom took my debit card.... She said something about not being the Coldsnakes ATM. Honestly, I don't know where she gets that idea from, I mean, wrestling is an INVESTMENT, y'know? At least that's what Junior Cobra says and he's SOOOO SMART!!! A real life guru of greatness!!! I'm lucky to have him in my corner!! I WON'T FAIL YOU, COBRA!!!!!!"

*At that exclaimation, Derrik wobbles and the china set slides off his head and shatters on the floor.*

DERRIK: "Oh no...... Mom's gonna be super pissed! Where'd I put that super glue......?"

*Pantaro and Snow are in the ring at the PWA training facilities, putting each other through their paces. They lock up. Pantaro slips under Snow's arm and grabs a hammer lock. Snow reaches behind his back and grabs the back of Pantaro's neck, dropa to a knee, and takes Pantaro down with a snapmare. Pantaro rolls through to his feet and shoots a high spinning kick which Snow avoids by stepping back. Snow then shoots in low taking Pantaro down. Pantaro shits his weight and throws Snow off with a monkey flip. Snow lands on his feet and hits the ropes as Pantaro nips up to his feet. Snow charges in and executes a perfect flying headscissors. Pantaro tucks his body in tight and lands on his feet. As Snow attempts to waistlock Pantaro from the back, Pantaro lifts his his leg and crotches Snow. Snow hits the mat, stunned and surprised.*

 

PANTARO: "Get up."

 

SNOW: “What the hell, man?  I thought you were better than that?”  Snow gingerly gets to his feet.

 

PANTARO: "Amigo, you are facing Beckett in a week. You think he will have any mercy on you? Do you expect him to somehow not break rules and use any means to defeat you this time? You must prepare for that happen!"

 

SNOW: “What, by having my best friend use his bullshit on me?  There’s a reason I say he doesn’t belong in PWA, you know.”

 

PANTARO: "I take no pleasure in doing these things, but you must be ready. Don't lose your focus. Again!"

 

SNOW: “Don’t lose focus.  Easy for you to say.  I’ll be ready for you this time.”

 

*The pair lock up again, and this time after a couple moves, Pantaro goes for Snow’s eyes, or maybe his mask.  Snow seems to be ready for him this time, batting the attack away before it can land.  The camera fades to white as the workout continues.*

TERRY SCHNIEDER: "I'm here with "The Blueprint" Spencer Watts. Spencer, you are just coming off a hellacious barbed-wire match where you defeated Rex Camelot. With the Endless Four-Way Dance for the PWA Light Heavyweight title coming up at Rise of Kings, what are your thoughts heading into that contest?"

WATTS: “Ya know, it’s been a rough few months here for me in PWA, but my daddy always said greatness don’t come easy and anything easy ain’t that great...”

a loaded glove connects with the back of Watts' head, and he crumples to the ground. Rex Camelot shoves Schnieder out of the way and repeatedly stomps Watts' taped shoulder, all the while yelling about being cheated. He looks over, stops, and says one word: "Execution." He walks over, takes a steel chair from a rack, and sets it up. He lays the stirring Watts' head on the seat of the chair, and quickly delivers a Louisette, flattening the chair, and leaving Watts a groaning, bleeding mess. Rex stands up, and slowly limps away, chuckling to himself

***The scene opens midway through the latest episode of PWA Weekend Rewind, where hosts Rich Bayner and Damon Knight recap the scintillating events of the last week of action-packed PWA programming. The two analysts are seated behind a purple and gold announcer desk that is emblazoned with the PWA crown. In the background, flanking both sides of a large video wall are promotional materials for the upcoming Rise of Kings supercard.***



BAYNER: “Welcome back folks. We now turn our attention to the PWA Heavyweight championship scene, where at this week’s Assault, our eight fierce competitors faced off in the FINAL round of the Rise of Kings Tournament to crown the first EVER PWA Heavyweight Champion.”

KNIGHT: “That’s right Rich. For the last several weeks, our outstanding heavyweight division has competed in a round-robin style tournament to determine their entrance order in the Rise of Kings time-delayed Championship Battle Royale. The competitor who scores the most victories in the tournament gets the coveted final entry slot. And as you all know, the final two remaining participants in the battle royale will square off in a winner-take-all two-out-of-three falls match to determine who will walk away with that coveted PWA Heavyweight Championship belt.”

BAYNER: “And following the amazing action we witnessed on Assault, the LEGENDARY Tiger Gold has officially won this phase of the Rise of Kings series. With his hard-won victory over his own personal albatross, The Hard Man Robert MacElroy, Tiger Gold will enter the RoK Battle Royale in the coveted EIGHTH slot, just edging out his closest completion in the tournament, Kevin Starr.”

KNIGHT: “That means he will enter that explosive battle royale a full TWELVE minutes after the first two entrants, Nakamura Yamasaki and Rhett Holiday. Words can’t express what an advantage that is in a fight like this.”

BAYNER: “But crowning our inaugural RoK tournament winner was only one of the many intriguing developments in the heavyweight division at this week’s Assault. With Kevin Starr’s narrow loss to Akira Wyld, we now find ourselves in a very interesting situation regarding the remaining slots in the RoK battle royale. Kevin Starr’s loss brought him down to a still-impressive 5-2 win/loss record in the tournament… resulting in a three-way TIE for the second slot, between Starr, Brian Fury, Akira Wyld. Per PWA owner Damion Black, to determine which of these three gets the much-desired seventh entry slot, we had to go to the scorebooks. Whichever competitor of the three scored wins over the opponents with the greatest tournament record would get the most favorable slot.”

KNIGHT: “And after tabulating the results… believe it or not folks, Akira Wyld is entering this thing in the number seven slot! With recent tournament victories over Kevin Starr and Tiger Gold, Akira Wyld finished the tournament with more collective point than anyone in the field shy of Gold himself. That means that Nakamura and Holiday will start the battle royale… and will be followed by, in order, Richard Pennyworth, Robert MacElroy, Brian Fury, Kevin Starr, Akira Wyld, and finally Tiger Gold.”

BAYNER: “For those who’ve been following this tournament from its inception, Wyld’s high tournament ranking has to be considered a bit of a shock. After making enemies left and right with his mouth and caustic personality, Wyld dropped key tournament victories to Brian Fury and Richard Pennyworth. Then just last month, Wyld was brutalized in a half-hour long match against Nakamura Yamasaki that resulted in him being hospitalized for more than 48 hours. There was even talk of him being not medically cleared to compete this week at Assault. How he found the fortitude to not only compete but WIN against Kevin Starr and secure this impressive spot is a mystery.”

KNIGHT: “It’s no mystery Rich… it’s pure, unadulterated hatred that fueled Akira this week. As those who call in to the ‘exclusive’ PWA Insider Hotline already know, Akira Wyld and Damion Black had a special hush-hush meeting last week in which Wyld practically pled with Mr. Black to give him a bye at this week’s Assault in his match against Kevin Starr.”

BAYNER: “To say that Wyld used ‘selective’ logic to plead his case would be putting it kindly, Damon.”

KNIGHT: “But, to his credit, Damion Black listened to Akira’s request and took it under advisement. Now as we know, Akira WAS in fact required to wrestle his scheduled match against Starr this week. In fact, PWA Rewind has obtained the email communication that was sent to the PWA Talent Relations office that communicated that fact to Akira Wyld.”

***Rich Bayner reaches under his desk and produces a folded piece of 8”x11” typing paper. He unfolds it and reads its contents aloud.***

BAYNER: “Straight from the penthouse suite of PWA Towers: ‘Akira, your exemption from next week’s Assault has been cleared, but it will result in a forfeiture. I was unable to secure a bye. I’ve done all I can. Damion Black.’”

***Bayner folds the paper and exchanges a nod with Damon Knight.***

KNIGHT: “So, it looks like Damion Black WAS willing to allow Akira the night off to heal, but doing so would have meant officially forfeiting his match against Kevin Starr. You KNOW that info couldn’t have sat well with a hothead like Wyld. And all of this coming down right after it looked as if he and Black were turning a positive corner in their caustic relationship.”

BAYNER: “Hold on to your hats fans, because we’ve secured exclusive security camera footage from our PWA Training Center, where Akira Wyld was busy rehabbing from his injuries when he received the news. We don’t have any sound for this folks, but as I’m sure you’ll agree, the footage makes Wyld’s feelings on the matter pretty clear.”

***The feed cuts to a black and white image of a PWA Training Center medical room. The timestamp on the corner of the screen indicates that the footage in question is from two days prior to the most recent PWA Assault. On the screen, Akira Wyld can be seen sitting on a trainer’s table flexing and relaxing a heavily taped arm and shoulder while a staff physician nods and makes notes on a clipboard. After a moment, an intern enters the room and passes an annoyed looking Wyld a sheet of paper. Wyld takes it with a scowl and a sharp jerk of his hand. He looks down and reads the note for several seconds, his brow slowly narrowing. By the time he is finished reading, he is practically shaking with anger. Suddenly, Wyld leaps off of the table and angrily boots a nearby trash can across the room, causing it to crash messily into the far wall of the trainer’s office. The intern and the physician both scatter as Wyld wheels around and grabs a rectangular first-aid kit from a nearby countertop and begins whirling it over his head, swinging at anyone in reach. Finally, Wyld pinwheels the kit through the air and smashes it to the ground, causing sterile bandages, pads, and tubes of ointment to fly across the floor. Wyld punches furiously at the air, and then winces and grabs his own arm in pain. He then kicks the corner of the rolling examination table hard with his shin and collapses into a heap on the ground yelling and flailing his arms. After a few moments, Wyld lurches himself to his feet and whips around to face the security camera. He is clearly mouthing a stream of profanities and he looks enraged as he holds up the crumpled communique to the camera and points at it. Finally he throws the note down and storms angrily out of the frame… before quickly running back into frame and grabbing the camera violently with both hands, causing the image to go to static snow. The feed cuts back to the PWA Weekend Rewind set where hosts Bayner and Knight shake their heads, dumbfounded.***



BAYNER: “Well, I don’t need to be a lip-reader to know that Wyld was NOT happy to find out he would have to wrestle or risk losing his standing in the RoK tournament.”

KNIGHT: “But you know Rich, I’ve known Akira Wyld for a long time… sometimes, I think that incidents like this actually motivate him to his greatest successes. When his pride is on the line and his back is against a wall, that’s when the real Akira Wyld shows up. I don’t know if THAT version of Akira Wyld has ever been beaten in the ring. I saw a laser-focused, determined pro enter the ring at Assault. And let’s not beat around the bush. Kevin Starr is a glazed ham of a man, but he can get it done in the ring. With those massive hands and that deceptive strength, Starr is a genuine main event beast. Nobody shy of Tiger Gold has been able to put his shoulders to the mat, and frankly, I don’t know that Wyld would have been able to get the job done if he didn’t have Black’s email spurring him on.”

BAYNER: “It will be very interesting to see if Wyld can carry that momentum on to the Rise of Kings battle royale. All eight competitors have shown themselves to be true champions by any definition. In just a few short days, we will find out which one of them will be christened the best in the world… the PWA Heavyweight Champion.”

KNIGHT: “For Rich Bayner, I’m Damon Knight and we will see you at the Rise of Kings!”

***Fade to black.***

***The scene opens in the ancient and foreboding lair of Bokrug Manaj.  The dank and gloomy Eastern European castle that Manaj calls home is adorned in gothic tapestries and complex, violent-looking ironwork.   Seated on a jagged throne of iron and bone, Bokrug Manaj blends in with the silent, menacing stone gargoyles that adorn the walls of his sacred sanctum.  A large ornate door of wood and blackened iron creaks slowly open, and Manaj’s tag-team partner, the enigmatic Pinfall Wizard, Cassidy Cray enters the room.  His sequined gold and purple attire contrasts sharply with the nightmarish underworld imagery that defines his dark and dangerous colleague.  Cray eyes Manaj’s motionless form across the room and his face creases in a broad smile.  He approaches Manaj with his arms wide and welcoming.***

 

CRAY:  “Manaj my good brother, you haven’t been answering your phone.  I was getting worried about you.  Thought I’d better mosey on over to your crib and see how you were doing.”

 

MANAJ:  "I have been... in cummunion with the dark forces. They are pleased with the annihilation we brought to Johnny Ecks and Nemesis Rex. They tell me the wretched path to our destiny is prepared for our conquest."

 

CRAY:  “Ah I feel you my brother.  After weeks of setbacks and injuries, the almighty singularity has blessed Alpha Omega with the vison and might to finally ascend to the mountain top. Through our perseverance and sacrifice, we have shown ourselves to be worthy of the glorious blessing of the light..."


MANAJ: "... and the unholy embrace of darkness. The purity of oblivion is at hand, waiting to be guided that it may cleanse the unworthy with hellfire."

 

CRAY:  “And now, with our newfound wisdom and clarity, we move on to the glory of the PWA Rise of Kings and the Tag-Team Championship, where we will encounter three worthy teams of the unwashed.  Six lost souls in need of the enlightenment that only the Alpha and the Omega can provide.”

 

MANAJ: "Six souls bound for purification through pain. The seeds of destruction will be sewn in thier agony, and all shall reap the harvest!"

 

CRAY:  “Haha… you do you my dark and demented brother. Whether our opponents at the Rise of Kings finally see the glorious light or succumb to the cold embrace of the dark… they shall come to their inevitable end in the heart of the singularity.”

 

MANAJ: "Order through chaos, rebirth through immolation! The weight of our destiny will crush the unbelievers!"

 

CRAY:  “And when the dust settles, the beginning and the end…”

 

MANAJ: "Darkness and light...

 

CRAY:  “The yin and the yang.”

 

TOGETHER: “The ALPHA and the OMEGA shall reign supreme as the PWA Tag-Team Champions.”

***The scene opens in the boiler room of the PWA Arena. Generators and fans can be heard clanging and whirring noisily in the background. The room is bathed in the kind of sickly, green glow that only a crumpled square of cellophane wrapped around an LED flashlight with a rubber band can create. In the center of the room, Junior Cobra stands, looking menacing… trying to look menacing.***



COBRA: “…hiss…”



***Cobra strides confidently forward until his diminutive frame takes up most of the camera real estate. When he speaks, he does so in a put-upon, super-villany attempted baritone.***



COBRA: “So… it would seem that a certain Brawler Beckett is interested in… shall we say… ‘acquiring’ the mask of a certain luchador of the Latino persuasion. The mask of a certain… Mr. SNOW. Furthermore, it appears as if Brawler Beckett has made available a rather large… BOUNTY… in order to meet these DASTARTLY ends.”



***Cobra rubs his hands together and smiles a toothy grin.***



COBRA: “Well… my good Mr. Beckett… THAT seems like the kind of task best suited to a pair of trusty HENCHMEN. And EVERYBODY knows that nobody henches men like the FIERCE and DEADLY Coldsnakes. You want masks? You want shirts? You want pants? You name it, Junior Cobra and Giant Anaconda and maybe also Derrick Arzon can get it! Using every bit of the god given might in our impressively muscular bodies, the Coldsnakes have all the tools to rip those sacred threads from Snow’s lilly-white dome!”



***Cobra stands bolt upright and points a finger dramatically at the camera.***



COBRA: “BUT!!!! Our services do not come cheap! You’ve said you’ll give ‘20 grand’ to anyone who can deliver Snow’s mask to you on a silver platter. And while that’s all well and good where you come from, we’re in AMERICA now and we don’t take your fancy Elvish money you limey snodgrass. So if you want the services of the FIERCE and DEADLY Coldsnakes, we demand no less than… 20 bucks... AMERICAN. A crisp Jackson or a pair of Hamiltons. Yes it’s true… the Coldsnakes are costly… but that price comes with a guarantee of results!”



***Cobra steps gingerly to the side, revealing a writhing, man-shaped burlap sack on the floor of the boiler room behind him. From off-camera, Cobra produces a wrinkled paper bag.***



COBRA: “Ya see Mr. Beckett, we can tell that you’re a professional. And AS a professional, you would only hire the best. So, since this job was pretty much in the bag, we took the liberty of pre-yoinking Mr. Snow and his mask, as you can see here.”



***Cobra waggles the paper bag in front of the camera as the man-shaped burlap sack in the background moans. Cobra turns to address the bag.***



COBRA: “Quiet you.”



***Cobra turns back to the camera and grins.***



COBRA: “But of course, WORDS only count for so much to men such as you and I, don’t they Mr. Beckett? Men of action like us speak only in RESULTS. So without further adieu… may I present the MASK OF SNOW!”



***Cobra theatrically stuffs his hand into the bag… and withdraws a white luchador mask… which upon further inspection, is clearly a Giant Anaconda mask that has been crudely spray-painted white. Cobra stands, proudly holding the mask out to the camera. A single drop of white paint slides off the mask and plops on the ground. In the background, Giant Anaconda enters the frame, a paper bag over his head, and begins flexing mightily.***



COBRA: “See Mr. Beckett… SIGNED, SEALED, and DELIVERED, as only the FIERCE and DEADLY Coldsnakes can do! No no… you don’t need to thank us. Just deliver that crisp, fresh 20 spot to PO Box at the bottom of your screen (no PO Box information appears at the bottom of the screen) and we will mail you this 100% authentic Snow mask in 6-8 business weeks. It was our pleasure to be of service… we didn’t have anything planned for this week anyway.”



***Giant Anaconda minces up to the foreground of the image and whispers urgently into Junior Cobra’s ear.***



COBRA: “…uh huh… uh huh… what do you mean, ‘what about the Rise of Kings Supercard’?”



***Anaconda whispers frantically at Cobra.***



COBRA: “I’m not following you here… uh huh… uh huh… what do you mean, ‘we’re in a tournament for the tag-team titles against Armageddon, Alpha Omega, and the Chinstrap-Baldo Masked Man Duo?”



***Anaconda rubs his temples and whispers at Cobra.***



COBRA: “uh huh… uh huh… what do you mean, ‘this is the culmination of our entire wrestling career and our chance to carve our names in the history books as the greatest tag team of all time and we should say something so when people look back on this moment there will be an epic soundbite that they can pair with a badass video package chronicling our journey to awesomeness’?”



***Cobra frowns and shakes his head at Anaconda.***



COBRA: “You know what man, it’s that paper bag. I can’t understand you. All that’s coming out on my end here is gibberish.”



***Cobra turns back to the camera and holds up the wet dripping mask.***



COBRA: “ANYWAY… Beckett, I got the flava’ you wanna savor right here in my manly mitts. You know how to reach me. Holla Playa!”



***Cobra starts to bound away enthusiastically… then pauses and looks down at the burlap sack on the ground. It moans weakly and the ‘head’ end raises slightly.***



COBRA: “I can’t remember… Anaconda, why did we put Arzon in there again?”



***Anaconda just stares blankly at Cobra. After a few moments, Cobra scratches his head and shrugs his shoulders. He gingerly plucks the green cellophane square from the light and the Snakes walk off camera, whistling. They turn off the light as they exit the boiler room. The burlap sack slowly sits up.***



ARZON: “Uh… guys? I have to pee.”



***Fade to black.***

(a basement training facility, free-weights and benches, lights occasionally fluttering from the ceiling. No ring, but a layer or two of mats on the floor cover one end of the room. There, Robert MacElroy and Ronnie Lassiter locked in an elbow-and-collar tie-up, each trying to gain leverage on the other. Nearby, shouting instructions to each man in turn like a drill instructor, is the Shooter, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and his ever-present mask. Robert goes for a leg-sweep, but Lassiter counters by using his brute power to lift his opponent into a gorilla press slam. MacEroy rolls to his feet, but the masked man stops them.)

Shooter: "No, damnit, y'all aren't paying attention! Robert! You're telegraphing all of your moves. A blind man could see them coming. Lower your center!"

MacElroy: "But I feel like, if ah'm hyre above'm, Aye'll 'ave tha lerrage te come doonappon'em-"

Shooter: "Helluva lotta good it did you, too! You just got thrown like a ragdoll. Come at me."

MacElroy: "Wha-"

Shooter: "NOW, BOY!"

(The Scot jukes in from side to side, the slips in to perform a leg-reap, only to get hip-tossed for his trouble. Further, the Shooter lands hard on MacElroy's chest, knocking the wind out of him and cinching on a headlock. Mac tries to scream, but has no breath)

Shooter: "Feel that, huh? That's leverage, son!" (He gets up, and Mac, shaking his head and gasping for breath, slowly gets to his feet.) "You're still favoring that ankle. Didn't the doctor tell you to stay off of it until it was mended?"

MacElroy: "I can ... take ... the pain ..."

Shooter: "No one's doubting that, boy, but that doesn't mean you should. You've been riding that method so long, you've all but lost your technique, and the damage is gonna catch up with you. Sit down over there. Ronnie! The Hell's the matter with you?"

Lassiter: "What'd I do?"

Shooter: "You used a power move for a counter."

Lassiter: "I got him,though, and I had the leverage. I didn't-"

Shooter: "Yeah, but I told you when we started, keep it low. You can't rely on that crap when you're facing someone the size of Fury, so broaden your arsenal. Y'all get some water, we'll start submissions in five minutes." (notices camera) "Where've you been? You're ten minutes late! Come here. PWA, you know who I am. I've was in this man's business back when Mr. Black was more concerned with getting to school with his lunch money in tact. I've been training youngsters for the last ten years, and Ronnie Lassiter's the best I've seen in a long time. Mac ... we'll see. He can use the practice, and Ronnie needs a sparring partner. They both have a lot to learn, but there's a reason they were brought here.

"As for me, Ronnie's gonna need someone to watch his back. I've got some ring-rust to knock off, sure, but no one's keeping me out of that ring. Speaking of which, Arzon, you should have had me several times in that match, and you might have, if you had kept your head in the game and gone for a pin instead of cuttin' flips. You need discipline.

"OK, boys, that's time. Get over here."

MacElroy: "You said five-"

Lassiter: "He keeps his own time, man."

Shooter: "Now, we're gonna take it easy on that ankle of yours, Mac. Ready?"

(Without waiting for a response, the Shooter kicks Lassiter in the stomach and chops MacElroy across the chest. Lassiter is doubled over, and is quickly locked into a front chancery by his mentor, who then hip-tosses him into the stunned MacElroy.) Come on, girls, get up!"