BPCW Foleypalooza 2002 Free For All
The show kicks off with Paul Heyman being followed around backstage talking on his cell phone waiting for his clients to show up. The camera crew follows him for a couple minutes until backstage interviewer Danny Zucker shows up and tries to get a word.
DZ: “Excuse me, Paul, Paul, can I get a word with you?”
PE: “No, no, no, excuse me. Who exactly do you think I am? Am I some kind of acquaintance of yours? Are we close personal friends? Perhaps, good sir, you could show me a bit more respect.”
DZ: *fumbles* “I’m sorry uhh, sir. But, I was wondering if you’d be so kind as to tell us what you are up to?”
*The camera continues to follow them as they walk and Paul E. pauses in front of a door.*
PE: “Just a little business my good man. Just a little business. Now, if you’ll excuse me”
*He glances at the door and then walks in. The camera pans away as the door shuts and the name on the door reads ‘Randall Turco’. The camera pans back to Zucker and he just shrugs as the camera fades out to the opening theme. After the barrage of visual images the audience is greeted with the presence of Sex Pistol. As he makes his way down the ramp, we cut to backstage where we see the Playboys mercilessly beating Ian Wolfe. We hear Sex Pistol yelling at the cameraman…*
SP: “Hey! HEY! Junior, can we focus on the matter at hand?” *the cameras cut back to Sex Pistol who is in the face of the camera* “Yeah, that’s much better. It’s like I say, you always gotta keep your eye on the main event baby. And in terms of this rag tag fed, the main event is standing right in front of you! That’s right, I’m back baby, and I’m back in a big mother f#$#% way! In case the backwater hicks missed it, I brought a little clip…” *a clip rolls of Sex Pistol’s amazing Japanese Death Match at November to Remember, the post-victory celebration is also shown and then the picture turns back to Pistol* “this match was an epic clash between two hardened warriors. In one corner, a grizzled veteran of the business, with a keen mind for the destructiveness of the brutal genre, perhaps the hardest of the hardcore, and future hall of famer… and the other corner, Raven. *boos* Oh come on people, the only memorable thing about this November was my pin fall over that burnt out nobody. No, no, no. He isn’t a nobody, he’s a NEVER WAS. Bring that footage back up on the screen!” *a picture of him standing above Raven’s broken body during the post-match celebration is shown and he continues on…* “That piece of trash lying there couldn’t make it in any fed but the trailer trash ECW. But you may say, ‘there’s a glass ceiling’, well, in case you haven’t noticed, he isn’t black, and this is Minnesota, land of ten thousand Swedes! The only reason this piss ant is here is because he couldn’t make it anywhere else! And after that match, you can be sure that he’ll be quickly forgotten.” *Sex Pistol laughs and paces around the ring, and gets suddenly serious* “But I think we’ve spent enough time on that underling already. The reason that I’ve come out here today is to make an announcement, and a challenge. You see, I am ready to move back to my position on top. I am the Main Event here in the BPCW and I’m ready to take a big step, the next BIG step. You see at November to Remember I beat a legend at his own game, so at Foleypalooza, I’m going to derail the meteoric, and wholly undeserved rise of what everyone claims to be the next star of sports entertainment. At Foleypalooza, proving ground of wrestling and battlefield of legends, I want to move on to the Next Big Thing. I want BROCK *dramatic pause* LESNAR! Yeah, that’s right. I just found my next hurdle to the top, so Brock, get your thick-headed, candy ass out here!”
*Pistol only has to wait a short time pacing in the ring before Brock Lesnar emerges through the curtain and hits the Brock Bounce™ on the ramp to a tremendous ovation from the hometown crowd. After satiating the masses with his jiggling he walks down to the ring and stands face to face in the ring with Sex Pistol. A few inches taller than the boastful Playboy leader, Lesnar stares down at him, but Pistol stands fast and glares right back for almost a minute before raising the microphone to his face, continuing to fixate his gaze on the Next Big Thing.*
SP: “So tell me Brock, how does it feel to be punked out? How does it feel to fear for your very life standing this close to the Main…”
*Before he can finish his sentence, Lesnar snags the microphone from his hand infuriating Sex Pistol leading to yell and grab the ring ropes and shake them.*
BL: “Sorry about that big guy. But I think the fans here were sick of listening to your crap. And I know that I was. *pauses and walks around the ring with the mic in hand.* So, you think that after winning one match of your last…how many? You think by winning that one match, you’re ready to take me on? *he walks back and stands face to face with Pistol again* I don’t think that you’re man enough to even hold my jock strap, let alone step in the ring, with the Next…*pumps bicep*…Big…*pumps again*…Thi…”
*Taking a page from Brock’s book, Pistol grabs the microphone back leaving Lesnar with an ‘oh no you didn’t’ look on his face*
SP: “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Brock. There comes a time in every wrestler’s life when he realizes one thing Brock, and that one thing is, that he is either a flash in the pan, like our good friend Raven, and you yourself Brock, or he is an enduring presence who will leave behind a legion of fans, and an untouchable legacy, such as myself. While I do enjoy watching your matches Brock, and your little bouncing for the all the fans out there, [aside/] really cute by the way [/aside], you just lack the charisma to make it in the upper echelon, and once you come to terms with that, you’ll be much better o…”
*Once again, the microphone is snatched out of Pistol’s hand and Brock, seething paces the ring…*
BL: “Alright, I’ve had about enough of this. I’ve taken abuse for the last ten minutes, not to mention the fact that you’ve kept this crowd on the edge of their beds waiting to fall asleep with your lackluster speech. You’ve racked and cajoled me about everything and anything you could possibly dream up but in the end, the fact remains that I am the superior physical specimen. You couldn’t last TEN minutes in the ring with me, even if you wanted t…”
*Brock is interrupted once again, but instead of the two continuing their little back and forth, they are both one upped by the sounds of the corporate music as C.E.O. Wheeler makes his way on stage much to the approval of the pumped crowd at the Igloo.*
CEO: “Hey, guys, I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was thinking about this whole wonderful little situation backstage while watching you two on the monitor and I had a little epiphany about the entire situation. You see, our next Pay Per View, if you hadn’t noticed is none other than Foleypalooza *pumps hand in air in a Foley-esque fashion.* Now, it is true Sex Pistol, that you are a main event player, and deserve a shot to regain your former glory after that impressive display last month. And Brock…Lesnar, a fellow gopher, and all-around perfect physical specimen; you have raised the bar for other rookies and shot up the ranks of the BPCW faster than any other superstar. But you seem to think that Sex Pistol here isn’t the Main Event that he claims to be. *Brock is shown in the ring bouncing and shaking his head to agree with the C.E.O.’s statement* So what I’m going to do is to make the first match for Foleypalooza. This month, we will see the Next Big Thing, Brock Lesnar face off against the Main Event of the BPCW, Sex Pistol in a special ten minute time limit challenge… for the number one contender spot for the World’s Heavyweight Title! If Sex Pistol can last the ten minutes in the ring that Brock mentioned, he will get a shot at the title next month at Cold Day In Hell, but should he fail to outlast the Next Big Thing, we will see none other than the rookie sensation taking on the champ. So boys, why don’t you think about that, and start preparing, because on the proving ground of champions, we’re going to see who has the drive to be the best, and who’s going to be left in the dust. So we’ll see you in two weeks guys, make the most of it.”
*The corporate music hits again and the C.E.O. walks backstage and Brock and Pistol are left in the ring in a stare down. They go nose-to-nose and eventually Lesnar does his famous neck flinch to attempt to intimidate Pistol and it works sending Pistol falling backwards over his own feet. The crowd eats it up and Lesnar just turns around and heads out of the ring, but Pistol gets up and runs to jump him from behind, but Lesnar spins around at the last second and grabs him out of midair and the crowd pops huge. Lesnar summons his strength and manages to hoist the beefy Sex Pistol up and drop him for the double back breaker… and then a third before dropping his adversary to the mat! Lesnar bounces a bit in the ring before leaving and heading up the ramp, but he turns about half way up as he sees Sex Pistol getting to his feet. The crowd cheers as he looks to them for what to do. He backs away and they begin to boo, but as he feigns steps towards the ring, their cheers become deafening. He runs into the ring and waits for Sex Pistol to get up and hoists him up on his shoulders and hits the F-5. Pistol lays motionless as Lesnar once again bounces for a bit then heads out and up the ramp as we head backstage to where medical attendants are helping a bloodied Ian Wolfe on to a stretcher with the Playboys looking on and laughing.*
*A promo is shown of a darkened jail cell with a man sitting in it. He has his hands folded as if in prayer and he silently shakes back and forth. The camera slowly pans around him in a 360-degree sweep before suddenly zooming way in on his eyes, which glow an eerily bright green. A voice rings from the cell echoing as the focus on his eyes continues and eventually shows him pacing in his cell as the monologue continues… "‘No Surrender’ is the war cry of the Belfast Brigade. We have no costly tenders, nor no unsecures to show. We're at need to defend ourselves. No matter where we go, we're out for our Republic, to hell with every State. What have the States done for me except try and rape my county’s soul? Not a fuckin’ thing. ‘No Surrender’ is the war cry of the Belfast Brigade. And on my lips it will be whether I take you, or you take me…” The camera returns to the man’s piercing green gaze as his monologue enters his last line, and the green flashes brightly leaving the Irish Flag on the screen. Then, slowly, from the top of the screen, a blood red wave slowly drips down the screen and as it has washes the flag a deep crimson, the words “I’m Coming” appear on the screen.*
*The screen goes blank and we are taken back to the arena entrance where we see the emergence of Big Show and Billy Gunn into the Igloo. Their new manager Paul Heyman meets them immediately and they begin to walk towards the dressing room. As the camera follows them around the backstage area, John Imbriani who has a couple of questions for them meets the entourage and launches his inquisition…*
JI: “Big Show, Billy Gunn, what exactly is your relationship to Paul Heyman?”
*The Big Show and Billy Gunn just stare at Imbriani as Paul E. steps in front of his ‘clients’.*
PE: “Gentleman, if you wouldn’t mind, I will handle this. You see you my good man, I have been hired as a manager by my clients and as part of said contract I will be handling all interview responsibilities, you see my clients do not wished to be heckled by you or anyone about their relationships to anyone, least of all a manager such as myself. You see, they don’t have to answer any of their questions, but just for the sake of amusing your pitiful audience, I will humor you with a couple of answers. You see, the reason that these two behemoths have hired me, is to help them regain their previous spot as the greatest BPCW tag team of all time, and as a manager of champions I can tell you that it is only a matter of time until my clients regain their former glory. So what they are going to do is put their titles on the line at Foleypalooza against not just one, not just two, but as many tag teams as this federation can muster in a sort of invitational, if you will. So bring your best, bring whatever you can muster, and my clients will tear through them as though they were not even there. So bring your alliances, bring your tag teams, bring your legends. After Foleypalooza, there will be nothing left but my clients, and their renewed legacy of domination in the BPCW. Now, if you will excuse us, we have more important things to attend to.”
*They brush past Imbriani and run smack dab into none other than Venom and Magnus! Big Show picks Paul E. up by his shoulders and places their outspoken manager behind both himself and Billy Gunn and then turns to face the surly looking Flock members.*
VN: “You two go on and on about how great you are...”
MG: “…or rather, your tubby manager keeps going on.”
VN: “And to be honest, we’re fucking tired of listening to this little mutual admiration society.”
BG: “Hey, you gonna bark all day little dog?”
BS: “Or are you going to bite.”
MG: *holding Venom back* “Oh we’re going to bite, but we’re going to bite you right in *looks at the Big Show* your big ass… at Foleypalooza when we take those tag straps from around your waists. Let’s go man.”
*Magnus and Venom begin to walk away but are viciously jumped by the Big Show and Billy Gunn. The beating continues until Raven and Frat Boy show up and fend off the attack. They slowly back up and Paul E. shouts back to them…*
PE: “We’ll see you at Foley…palooza.” *The three laugh as they back away slowly and the picture switches to the C.E.O.’s office where Sex Fiend and Wheeler are having a discussion and seem to be wrapping things up.*
CEO: “Well, I’m glad we worked it all out. I know how bad you want them both, but I think this will be just the way to get what you want, and keep everyone relatively healthy.”
SF: “Well, I have just the person in mind, so don’t worry, it’ll be a chartbuster.”
CEO: “Glad we could do business.”
SF: “Likewise.”
*The two shake hands and Sex Fiend exits the C.E.O.’s office and we go to the arena where the Playboys, Mark Bickler, Jon Seitz, and Val Venis are heading to the ring mocking fans as they go. Despite the negative reaction from the fans, they seem to be in good spirits and proceed to address the packed house in the Igloo.*
MB: “After getting in a light workout earlier” *the three laugh and talk amongst themselves* “the boys and I were interested in coming out and giving all of you a little treat. So I think first of all, we should address our little run in with Mr. Wolfe. You see, somehow, he decided it would be a good idea to get himself a little rematch from last month for my Great Lakes Title. So, I talked it over with the boys and we decided that we really didn’t appreciate his efforts to try and make me look bad, so we made him an offer that he couldn’t refuse. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t take us very seriously. But you know what? Since I’m such a generous person, I’m still going to give that twerp a shot at my Great Lakes Title.”
JS: “And for the benefit of those with flash photography, we will be performing a pose we’d like to call ‘Champions of the Future’ because you’re looking at the tag team that will be winning the titles from the Big Show and Billy Gunn in two weeks at Foleypalooza!” *The three of them pose with Bickler showing off his title smugly while Venis and Seitz make the belt motion at their waists while the flashbulbs begin to pop around the Igloo.*
*Elsewhere backstage we see the Interpreter getting a cup of coffee when she is approached by Spice.*
SP: “Well, well, well, what do we have here? It must be the newest women wrestler on the block. How does it feel to have your first official victory as a wrestler, chica?
OG: “Oh no, that was totally Essa, he’s amazing. I was just there for moral support, it’s no big deal.”
SP: “No big deal? NO BIG DEAL? You’re trying to tell me that that didn’t mean anything to you? Do you think this is all some sort of game? I worked my ass off to get here and I won’t have any two-bit skanky talking-for-your-man-because-he-don’t-know-English ho running around trying to pass herself off as a legitimate wrestler when she doesn’t even care about the business.”
OG: “No, please, that’s not what I meant. I totally respect the business. And you, you’re amazing. Let’s just talk about this, I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. I was only there because Essa wanted me to wrestle with him instead of someone else.”
SP: “Okay, okay, maybe I just over-reacted. You seem like a nice enough girl.”
*Spice moves to the coffee dispenser and attempts to get a cup but it seems to be empty. While she fiddles with the dispenser she asks the Interpreter to check out the situation up top. As the Interpreter goes to do so, Spice slowly gets up and with a viciously evil smile on her face shoves the Spanish speaking beauty’s face into the steaming hot coffee jug leaving her screaming in pain. She stumbles around until she can finally get the container off of her head but is still drifting around aimlessly. Spice lets her trip over to her and then throws the Interpreter’s head between her legs setting her up for a powerbomb through the snack table. The last glimpse we get of the scene is the Interpreter lying motionless and Spice standing over her grinning maniacally.*
*After a quick commercial break we shift elsewhere backstage where once again Paul E. is entering the dressing room of a BPCW star. As the door shuts we see that it is the locker room of the titanic Steven Black! The camera hovers outside the door for a bit before it cuts to the long-absent BPCW Hardcore Champion, Rob Van Dam who is speaking with a couple of the boys in back. The fans go nuts when they see him, starting a monstrous RVD chant. He is quickly approached by a jubilant C.E.O. Wheeler who seems delighted to have his boy back from active duty in the ongoing struggle in the UCW/WWA conflict.*
CEO: “Rob, Rob, good to see you my man. What brings you here?”
RVD: “Well, it is about time for the biggest events in the industry, and since the fed is named after a hardcore legend, I thought it was be cool if you could have a hardcore title match featuring none other than the legend to be, Rob…Van…Dam!”
CEO: “Well, that’s awesome Rob… but I had no idea you were coming. I don’t mean to sound like I don’t appreciate it, because I really do. I thought that you’d be too busy on the front lines to come back for the pay per view. So I really am grateful, but I just don’t have an opponent for you.”
RVD: “Hey man, it’s cool. I mean, everything’s cool when you’re RVD. You make room on the card, and I’ll find someone to fight. I mean, somebody’s got to crave this thing, right? I know I’m not the only person with the addiction.” *The C.E.O. stares at RVD for a minute before Van Dam notices…* “addicted to the title dude. What did you think I meant?”
CEO: “Nothin’ man, nothin’. You find an opponent and you have yourself a slot on the card, I guarantee.”
RVD: “Cool man, alright, I’ll catch you later dude. Take it easy.”
CEO: “You too Rob, let me know when you find an opponent.”
*The two part ways and another promo is shown of the man in the cell, but this time after circling around the camera flies into the man’s head and he is seen standing in a wide open field under a star filled sky with the wind blowing softly through the trees. The camera flies around him again as he speaks watching him slowly taking a crucifix that is hanging around his neck into his hand and pray… “This Ireland of mine has for long been half free. A homeland’s own people slaves to injust tyranny. My sins are my own filled with nothing but pride. I trust in my God. There is nothing to hide. I don't mind a bit if I shoot down the police. They're lackeys for war never guardians of peace. But at the deserters I'll never let aim those rebels who sold out the Patriot’s name.” The camera returns to the man’s piercing green gaze as before as his dialogue ends and the green flashes again, creating the same image as earlier in the evening. Again, the blood washes the flag and the same message appears… “I’m Coming”*
*Kyuss blares over the loudspeakers and out comes the behemoth, Steven Black to a pretty positive response from the crowd. After reaching the ring and grabbing a microphone he slowly starts into a promo…*
SB: “I’ve been in this federation for a while now, and as much as I’d like to say that I’ve got a lot of friends in this fed, that just isn’t the case. I came in with a family, a clan, a clique if you will. But that fell apart as quickly as it came into being. I had three brothers when I started out in this business and as of this moment, I am an only child, an orphan. But all that changed earlier tonight. I had a conversation that changed my life with Paul Heyman…” *the crowd begins to boo, but Black makes motions for them to quiet down. As they begin to quiet down, Paul E. appears on stage, which prompts them to start booing again*
PE: “Come on now, give this man a chance to speak!”
SB: “Thank you Paul. Now, I have tried to do my best to entertain you fans since I came into this federation, and I want to speak. After I talked to Paul, everything came into focus.” *Heyman is shown on camera nodding his head* “The fog was cleared and I felt like a burden was lifted from upon my shoulders. And, I knew that I had a decision to make, and I’m confident that I’ve made the right choice. So at Foleypalooza, I will be joining a brotherhood that will lead me back to the light.” *Paul is shown again shaking his head and rubbing his hands together* “So in two weeks, at Foleypalooza… I will be joining the Big Show and Billy Gunn in the BPCW World Tag Team Title Match. *Paul is shown clapping and bowing to Black and the camera stays on him as Black continues to an incredible series of boos from the crowd.* And by my side, I will have a man that will help me revolutionize this business by ensuring our defeat of Paul Heyman’s unholy alliance to become the new BPCW Tag Team Champions!”
*Heyman is shown with a look of absolute shock on his face before it takes a turn for the angered and he begins to wildly wave his arms summoning the Big Show and Billy Gunn sending them to the ring to avenge the insult suffered at the hands of Steven Black. The two are warded off for a bit, but eventually with the help of Heyman’s distractions the two are able to overcome Black beating him silly until none other than Rob Van Dam emerges from the backstage area at a dead run. He hits the ring and clears out Heyman’s cadre who back up the ramp seething from RVD’s presence. Van Dam helps Black to his feet and raises his hand pointing to him and getting the crowd soundly behind him. RVD plays to the crowd a bit more, then heads backstage leaving Steven Black with a huge face rub.*
*As soon as Van Dam passed into the backstage area, John Imbriani is quick to question RVD on his association to Steven Black, inquiring as to whether or not, he was indeed Black’s tag team partner for Foleypalooza.*
RVD: “Me? Nah… I just got bored and I figured I could help a brother out. Besides, Paul E. always get all” *makes goofy faces and voices* “angry and grumpy, but seriously, how can I be his partner when I have a hardcore match of my own?”
JI: “So you’ve found an opponent?”
RVD: “Well not yet, but…”
*A voice comes out of nowhere saying “you do now”. The camera pans around until it finds Raven sitting on an anvil case, high in the distance.*
RVD: “Heeeeeey, Raven, what’s up dude?”
RN: “The prodigal son of hardcore has come back to the house of the Raven. Chronologically lonesome, there has been a shift in the tides and the revised standard leaves me desirous of long absent adulation.”
RVD: “Uhh, yeah, whatever dude. I don’t know what you just said, but do you, like, want a shot at the title.”
RN: *sighs* “Precisely.”
RVD: “Cool man, well I’ll tell Wheeler. See you at Foleypalooza. Oh, and Johnny, tell Steve good luck for me, I gotta run to a very important meeting. Check you guys later.”
*The cameras cut to the backstage area where Lauren Rath and Mother Russia are walking and talking as they comb the halls…*
LR: “And they honestly think that vernacular architecture is something special. I say raze it all. Like the fucking wall, you know?”
MR: “Zee fall of zee wall vas a tragedy for us.”
*They stare at each other for a minute and continue walking in silence until they come along the hallway and are blocked by an opening door. From the room emerges Sara and Stephanie McMahon...*
SM: “Well, if it isn’t the dynamic dyke duo.”
SS: “Yeah, how’s it going *scoffs* ladies?”
LR: “Oh, you’re one to talk tons of fun. Maybe you could work on trimming down that ass so it looks more like a ghetto booty instead of a whole neighborhood.”
SS: “Excuse me? You’ve been with so many guys having sex with you is like a 747 flying through the Grand Canyon!”
SM: “Yeah, like a hot dog down a hallway!”
MR: “Maybe if you did not use your sex as a way to keep your man held in check, he could attain the success hers have.”
SM: “Maybe you should keep your slutty Russian ass out of it!”
LR: *holding Mother Russia back* “I wouldn’t talk Stephanie, what is that they always call you?”
*The crowd immediately breaks into a “slut!” chant and Stephanie looks around listening to the masses and begins to yell at them to shut up until the crowd is joined in their repetitive chant by a deep voice that could only belong to one man…*
MF: “Slut! Slut! Slut! Slut! Oh-ho-ho-ho, how goes it ladies? I overheard your little conversation and I just got back from talking with Wheeler about a little company direction at the executive suite, right here in MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA!” *cheap pop followed by ‘Foley! Foley!’ chant.* “But seriously, all these hot girls fighting gives me a big enough rush of testicular fortitude, that I might just come back to wrestle as the Masked Debater!” *The crowd pops huge and the smarks enjoy the inside joke.* “But seriously now. A well-worked muscle is a well-developed muscle. Since it is my pay-per-view, I think we would all like to see these fine ladies square off, in a tag team match!” *The crowd pops huge for the opportunity to see these four talented physical specimens face off.* “And what makes it even better is that you’re referee will be none other than… Me!” *Another ‘Foley!’ chant breaks out as Foley bobs his head and pumps his hand in the air along with it.* “So you ladies keep up the good work, and in two weeks I’ll see you in the ring, right here, in the Igloo!” *cheap pop* “So keep those legs in the air and Have A Nice Day!”
*A video package for Foleypalooza airs to the theme song for the event, the In The Air Tonight Remix, by Phil Collins featuring the Foo Fighters. As it reaches the point where it “really picks up”, the guitars blare and the crowd eats up the mixture of old and new school superstar talent intermixed with the visual montage. After the package airs, the familiar sound of the Rollins Band blares over the loudspeakers and the arena greets their new World Heavyweight Champion in a style befitting his arrogant attitude.*
The show kicks off with Paul Heyman being followed around backstage talking on his cell phone waiting for his clients to show up. The camera crew follows him for a couple minutes until backstage interviewer Danny Zucker shows up and tries to get a word.
DZ: “Excuse me, Paul, Paul, can I get a word with you?”
PE: “No, no, no, excuse me. Who exactly do you think I am? Am I some kind of acquaintance of yours? Are we close personal friends? Perhaps, good sir, you could show me a bit more respect.”
DZ: *fumbles* “I’m sorry uhh, sir. But, I was wondering if you’d be so kind as to tell us what you are up to?”
*The camera continues to follow them as they walk and Paul E. pauses in front of a door.*
PE: “Just a little business my good man. Just a little business. Now, if you’ll excuse me”
*He glances at the door and then walks in. The camera pans away as the door shuts and the name on the door reads ‘Randall Turco’. The camera pans back to Zucker and he just shrugs as the camera fades out to the opening theme. After the barrage of visual images the audience is greeted with the presence of Sex Pistol. As he makes his way down the ramp, we cut to backstage where we see the Playboys mercilessly beating Ian Wolfe. We hear Sex Pistol yelling at the cameraman…*
SP: “Hey! HEY! Junior, can we focus on the matter at hand?” *the cameras cut back to Sex Pistol who is in the face of the camera* “Yeah, that’s much better. It’s like I say, you always gotta keep your eye on the main event baby. And in terms of this rag tag fed, the main event is standing right in front of you! That’s right, I’m back baby, and I’m back in a big mother f#$#% way! In case the backwater hicks missed it, I brought a little clip…” *a clip rolls of Sex Pistol’s amazing Japanese Death Match at November to Remember, the post-victory celebration is also shown and then the picture turns back to Pistol* “this match was an epic clash between two hardened warriors. In one corner, a grizzled veteran of the business, with a keen mind for the destructiveness of the brutal genre, perhaps the hardest of the hardcore, and future hall of famer… and the other corner, Raven. *boos* Oh come on people, the only memorable thing about this November was my pin fall over that burnt out nobody. No, no, no. He isn’t a nobody, he’s a NEVER WAS. Bring that footage back up on the screen!” *a picture of him standing above Raven’s broken body during the post-match celebration is shown and he continues on…* “That piece of trash lying there couldn’t make it in any fed but the trailer trash ECW. But you may say, ‘there’s a glass ceiling’, well, in case you haven’t noticed, he isn’t black, and this is Minnesota, land of ten thousand Swedes! The only reason this piss ant is here is because he couldn’t make it anywhere else! And after that match, you can be sure that he’ll be quickly forgotten.” *Sex Pistol laughs and paces around the ring, and gets suddenly serious* “But I think we’ve spent enough time on that underling already. The reason that I’ve come out here today is to make an announcement, and a challenge. You see, I am ready to move back to my position on top. I am the Main Event here in the BPCW and I’m ready to take a big step, the next BIG step. You see at November to Remember I beat a legend at his own game, so at Foleypalooza, I’m going to derail the meteoric, and wholly undeserved rise of what everyone claims to be the next star of sports entertainment. At Foleypalooza, proving ground of wrestling and battlefield of legends, I want to move on to the Next Big Thing. I want BROCK *dramatic pause* LESNAR! Yeah, that’s right. I just found my next hurdle to the top, so Brock, get your thick-headed, candy ass out here!”
*Pistol only has to wait a short time pacing in the ring before Brock Lesnar emerges through the curtain and hits the Brock Bounce™ on the ramp to a tremendous ovation from the hometown crowd. After satiating the masses with his jiggling he walks down to the ring and stands face to face in the ring with Sex Pistol. A few inches taller than the boastful Playboy leader, Lesnar stares down at him, but Pistol stands fast and glares right back for almost a minute before raising the microphone to his face, continuing to fixate his gaze on the Next Big Thing.*
SP: “So tell me Brock, how does it feel to be punked out? How does it feel to fear for your very life standing this close to the Main…”
*Before he can finish his sentence, Lesnar snags the microphone from his hand infuriating Sex Pistol leading to yell and grab the ring ropes and shake them.*
BL: “Sorry about that big guy. But I think the fans here were sick of listening to your crap. And I know that I was. *pauses and walks around the ring with the mic in hand.* So, you think that after winning one match of your last…how many? You think by winning that one match, you’re ready to take me on? *he walks back and stands face to face with Pistol again* I don’t think that you’re man enough to even hold my jock strap, let alone step in the ring, with the Next…*pumps bicep*…Big…*pumps again*…Thi…”
*Taking a page from Brock’s book, Pistol grabs the microphone back leaving Lesnar with an ‘oh no you didn’t’ look on his face*
SP: “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, Brock. There comes a time in every wrestler’s life when he realizes one thing Brock, and that one thing is, that he is either a flash in the pan, like our good friend Raven, and you yourself Brock, or he is an enduring presence who will leave behind a legion of fans, and an untouchable legacy, such as myself. While I do enjoy watching your matches Brock, and your little bouncing for the all the fans out there, [aside/] really cute by the way [/aside], you just lack the charisma to make it in the upper echelon, and once you come to terms with that, you’ll be much better o…”
*Once again, the microphone is snatched out of Pistol’s hand and Brock, seething paces the ring…*
BL: “Alright, I’ve had about enough of this. I’ve taken abuse for the last ten minutes, not to mention the fact that you’ve kept this crowd on the edge of their beds waiting to fall asleep with your lackluster speech. You’ve racked and cajoled me about everything and anything you could possibly dream up but in the end, the fact remains that I am the superior physical specimen. You couldn’t last TEN minutes in the ring with me, even if you wanted t…”
*Brock is interrupted once again, but instead of the two continuing their little back and forth, they are both one upped by the sounds of the corporate music as C.E.O. Wheeler makes his way on stage much to the approval of the pumped crowd at the Igloo.*
CEO: “Hey, guys, I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was thinking about this whole wonderful little situation backstage while watching you two on the monitor and I had a little epiphany about the entire situation. You see, our next Pay Per View, if you hadn’t noticed is none other than Foleypalooza *pumps hand in air in a Foley-esque fashion.* Now, it is true Sex Pistol, that you are a main event player, and deserve a shot to regain your former glory after that impressive display last month. And Brock…Lesnar, a fellow gopher, and all-around perfect physical specimen; you have raised the bar for other rookies and shot up the ranks of the BPCW faster than any other superstar. But you seem to think that Sex Pistol here isn’t the Main Event that he claims to be. *Brock is shown in the ring bouncing and shaking his head to agree with the C.E.O.’s statement* So what I’m going to do is to make the first match for Foleypalooza. This month, we will see the Next Big Thing, Brock Lesnar face off against the Main Event of the BPCW, Sex Pistol in a special ten minute time limit challenge… for the number one contender spot for the World’s Heavyweight Title! If Sex Pistol can last the ten minutes in the ring that Brock mentioned, he will get a shot at the title next month at Cold Day In Hell, but should he fail to outlast the Next Big Thing, we will see none other than the rookie sensation taking on the champ. So boys, why don’t you think about that, and start preparing, because on the proving ground of champions, we’re going to see who has the drive to be the best, and who’s going to be left in the dust. So we’ll see you in two weeks guys, make the most of it.”
*The corporate music hits again and the C.E.O. walks backstage and Brock and Pistol are left in the ring in a stare down. They go nose-to-nose and eventually Lesnar does his famous neck flinch to attempt to intimidate Pistol and it works sending Pistol falling backwards over his own feet. The crowd eats it up and Lesnar just turns around and heads out of the ring, but Pistol gets up and runs to jump him from behind, but Lesnar spins around at the last second and grabs him out of midair and the crowd pops huge. Lesnar summons his strength and manages to hoist the beefy Sex Pistol up and drop him for the double back breaker… and then a third before dropping his adversary to the mat! Lesnar bounces a bit in the ring before leaving and heading up the ramp, but he turns about half way up as he sees Sex Pistol getting to his feet. The crowd cheers as he looks to them for what to do. He backs away and they begin to boo, but as he feigns steps towards the ring, their cheers become deafening. He runs into the ring and waits for Sex Pistol to get up and hoists him up on his shoulders and hits the F-5. Pistol lays motionless as Lesnar once again bounces for a bit then heads out and up the ramp as we head backstage to where medical attendants are helping a bloodied Ian Wolfe on to a stretcher with the Playboys looking on and laughing.*
*A promo is shown of a darkened jail cell with a man sitting in it. He has his hands folded as if in prayer and he silently shakes back and forth. The camera slowly pans around him in a 360-degree sweep before suddenly zooming way in on his eyes, which glow an eerily bright green. A voice rings from the cell echoing as the focus on his eyes continues and eventually shows him pacing in his cell as the monologue continues… "‘No Surrender’ is the war cry of the Belfast Brigade. We have no costly tenders, nor no unsecures to show. We're at need to defend ourselves. No matter where we go, we're out for our Republic, to hell with every State. What have the States done for me except try and rape my county’s soul? Not a fuckin’ thing. ‘No Surrender’ is the war cry of the Belfast Brigade. And on my lips it will be whether I take you, or you take me…” The camera returns to the man’s piercing green gaze as his monologue enters his last line, and the green flashes brightly leaving the Irish Flag on the screen. Then, slowly, from the top of the screen, a blood red wave slowly drips down the screen and as it has washes the flag a deep crimson, the words “I’m Coming” appear on the screen.*
*The screen goes blank and we are taken back to the arena entrance where we see the emergence of Big Show and Billy Gunn into the Igloo. Their new manager Paul Heyman meets them immediately and they begin to walk towards the dressing room. As the camera follows them around the backstage area, John Imbriani who has a couple of questions for them meets the entourage and launches his inquisition…*
JI: “Big Show, Billy Gunn, what exactly is your relationship to Paul Heyman?”
*The Big Show and Billy Gunn just stare at Imbriani as Paul E. steps in front of his ‘clients’.*
PE: “Gentleman, if you wouldn’t mind, I will handle this. You see you my good man, I have been hired as a manager by my clients and as part of said contract I will be handling all interview responsibilities, you see my clients do not wished to be heckled by you or anyone about their relationships to anyone, least of all a manager such as myself. You see, they don’t have to answer any of their questions, but just for the sake of amusing your pitiful audience, I will humor you with a couple of answers. You see, the reason that these two behemoths have hired me, is to help them regain their previous spot as the greatest BPCW tag team of all time, and as a manager of champions I can tell you that it is only a matter of time until my clients regain their former glory. So what they are going to do is put their titles on the line at Foleypalooza against not just one, not just two, but as many tag teams as this federation can muster in a sort of invitational, if you will. So bring your best, bring whatever you can muster, and my clients will tear through them as though they were not even there. So bring your alliances, bring your tag teams, bring your legends. After Foleypalooza, there will be nothing left but my clients, and their renewed legacy of domination in the BPCW. Now, if you will excuse us, we have more important things to attend to.”
*They brush past Imbriani and run smack dab into none other than Venom and Magnus! Big Show picks Paul E. up by his shoulders and places their outspoken manager behind both himself and Billy Gunn and then turns to face the surly looking Flock members.*
VN: “You two go on and on about how great you are...”
MG: “…or rather, your tubby manager keeps going on.”
VN: “And to be honest, we’re fucking tired of listening to this little mutual admiration society.”
BG: “Hey, you gonna bark all day little dog?”
BS: “Or are you going to bite.”
MG: *holding Venom back* “Oh we’re going to bite, but we’re going to bite you right in *looks at the Big Show* your big ass… at Foleypalooza when we take those tag straps from around your waists. Let’s go man.”
*Magnus and Venom begin to walk away but are viciously jumped by the Big Show and Billy Gunn. The beating continues until Raven and Frat Boy show up and fend off the attack. They slowly back up and Paul E. shouts back to them…*
PE: “We’ll see you at Foley…palooza.” *The three laugh as they back away slowly and the picture switches to the C.E.O.’s office where Sex Fiend and Wheeler are having a discussion and seem to be wrapping things up.*
CEO: “Well, I’m glad we worked it all out. I know how bad you want them both, but I think this will be just the way to get what you want, and keep everyone relatively healthy.”
SF: “Well, I have just the person in mind, so don’t worry, it’ll be a chartbuster.”
CEO: “Glad we could do business.”
SF: “Likewise.”
*The two shake hands and Sex Fiend exits the C.E.O.’s office and we go to the arena where the Playboys, Mark Bickler, Jon Seitz, and Val Venis are heading to the ring mocking fans as they go. Despite the negative reaction from the fans, they seem to be in good spirits and proceed to address the packed house in the Igloo.*
MB: “After getting in a light workout earlier” *the three laugh and talk amongst themselves* “the boys and I were interested in coming out and giving all of you a little treat. So I think first of all, we should address our little run in with Mr. Wolfe. You see, somehow, he decided it would be a good idea to get himself a little rematch from last month for my Great Lakes Title. So, I talked it over with the boys and we decided that we really didn’t appreciate his efforts to try and make me look bad, so we made him an offer that he couldn’t refuse. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t take us very seriously. But you know what? Since I’m such a generous person, I’m still going to give that twerp a shot at my Great Lakes Title.”
JS: “And for the benefit of those with flash photography, we will be performing a pose we’d like to call ‘Champions of the Future’ because you’re looking at the tag team that will be winning the titles from the Big Show and Billy Gunn in two weeks at Foleypalooza!” *The three of them pose with Bickler showing off his title smugly while Venis and Seitz make the belt motion at their waists while the flashbulbs begin to pop around the Igloo.*
*Elsewhere backstage we see the Interpreter getting a cup of coffee when she is approached by Spice.*
SP: “Well, well, well, what do we have here? It must be the newest women wrestler on the block. How does it feel to have your first official victory as a wrestler, chica?
OG: “Oh no, that was totally Essa, he’s amazing. I was just there for moral support, it’s no big deal.”
SP: “No big deal? NO BIG DEAL? You’re trying to tell me that that didn’t mean anything to you? Do you think this is all some sort of game? I worked my ass off to get here and I won’t have any two-bit skanky talking-for-your-man-because-he-don’t-know-English ho running around trying to pass herself off as a legitimate wrestler when she doesn’t even care about the business.”
OG: “No, please, that’s not what I meant. I totally respect the business. And you, you’re amazing. Let’s just talk about this, I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. I was only there because Essa wanted me to wrestle with him instead of someone else.”
SP: “Okay, okay, maybe I just over-reacted. You seem like a nice enough girl.”
*Spice moves to the coffee dispenser and attempts to get a cup but it seems to be empty. While she fiddles with the dispenser she asks the Interpreter to check out the situation up top. As the Interpreter goes to do so, Spice slowly gets up and with a viciously evil smile on her face shoves the Spanish speaking beauty’s face into the steaming hot coffee jug leaving her screaming in pain. She stumbles around until she can finally get the container off of her head but is still drifting around aimlessly. Spice lets her trip over to her and then throws the Interpreter’s head between her legs setting her up for a powerbomb through the snack table. The last glimpse we get of the scene is the Interpreter lying motionless and Spice standing over her grinning maniacally.*
*After a quick commercial break we shift elsewhere backstage where once again Paul E. is entering the dressing room of a BPCW star. As the door shuts we see that it is the locker room of the titanic Steven Black! The camera hovers outside the door for a bit before it cuts to the long-absent BPCW Hardcore Champion, Rob Van Dam who is speaking with a couple of the boys in back. The fans go nuts when they see him, starting a monstrous RVD chant. He is quickly approached by a jubilant C.E.O. Wheeler who seems delighted to have his boy back from active duty in the ongoing struggle in the UCW/WWA conflict.*
CEO: “Rob, Rob, good to see you my man. What brings you here?”
RVD: “Well, it is about time for the biggest events in the industry, and since the fed is named after a hardcore legend, I thought it was be cool if you could have a hardcore title match featuring none other than the legend to be, Rob…Van…Dam!”
CEO: “Well, that’s awesome Rob… but I had no idea you were coming. I don’t mean to sound like I don’t appreciate it, because I really do. I thought that you’d be too busy on the front lines to come back for the pay per view. So I really am grateful, but I just don’t have an opponent for you.”
RVD: “Hey man, it’s cool. I mean, everything’s cool when you’re RVD. You make room on the card, and I’ll find someone to fight. I mean, somebody’s got to crave this thing, right? I know I’m not the only person with the addiction.” *The C.E.O. stares at RVD for a minute before Van Dam notices…* “addicted to the title dude. What did you think I meant?”
CEO: “Nothin’ man, nothin’. You find an opponent and you have yourself a slot on the card, I guarantee.”
RVD: “Cool man, alright, I’ll catch you later dude. Take it easy.”
CEO: “You too Rob, let me know when you find an opponent.”
*The two part ways and another promo is shown of the man in the cell, but this time after circling around the camera flies into the man’s head and he is seen standing in a wide open field under a star filled sky with the wind blowing softly through the trees. The camera flies around him again as he speaks watching him slowly taking a crucifix that is hanging around his neck into his hand and pray… “This Ireland of mine has for long been half free. A homeland’s own people slaves to injust tyranny. My sins are my own filled with nothing but pride. I trust in my God. There is nothing to hide. I don't mind a bit if I shoot down the police. They're lackeys for war never guardians of peace. But at the deserters I'll never let aim those rebels who sold out the Patriot’s name.” The camera returns to the man’s piercing green gaze as before as his dialogue ends and the green flashes again, creating the same image as earlier in the evening. Again, the blood washes the flag and the same message appears… “I’m Coming”*
*Kyuss blares over the loudspeakers and out comes the behemoth, Steven Black to a pretty positive response from the crowd. After reaching the ring and grabbing a microphone he slowly starts into a promo…*
SB: “I’ve been in this federation for a while now, and as much as I’d like to say that I’ve got a lot of friends in this fed, that just isn’t the case. I came in with a family, a clan, a clique if you will. But that fell apart as quickly as it came into being. I had three brothers when I started out in this business and as of this moment, I am an only child, an orphan. But all that changed earlier tonight. I had a conversation that changed my life with Paul Heyman…” *the crowd begins to boo, but Black makes motions for them to quiet down. As they begin to quiet down, Paul E. appears on stage, which prompts them to start booing again*
PE: “Come on now, give this man a chance to speak!”
SB: “Thank you Paul. Now, I have tried to do my best to entertain you fans since I came into this federation, and I want to speak. After I talked to Paul, everything came into focus.” *Heyman is shown on camera nodding his head* “The fog was cleared and I felt like a burden was lifted from upon my shoulders. And, I knew that I had a decision to make, and I’m confident that I’ve made the right choice. So at Foleypalooza, I will be joining a brotherhood that will lead me back to the light.” *Paul is shown again shaking his head and rubbing his hands together* “So in two weeks, at Foleypalooza… I will be joining the Big Show and Billy Gunn in the BPCW World Tag Team Title Match. *Paul is shown clapping and bowing to Black and the camera stays on him as Black continues to an incredible series of boos from the crowd.* And by my side, I will have a man that will help me revolutionize this business by ensuring our defeat of Paul Heyman’s unholy alliance to become the new BPCW Tag Team Champions!”
*Heyman is shown with a look of absolute shock on his face before it takes a turn for the angered and he begins to wildly wave his arms summoning the Big Show and Billy Gunn sending them to the ring to avenge the insult suffered at the hands of Steven Black. The two are warded off for a bit, but eventually with the help of Heyman’s distractions the two are able to overcome Black beating him silly until none other than Rob Van Dam emerges from the backstage area at a dead run. He hits the ring and clears out Heyman’s cadre who back up the ramp seething from RVD’s presence. Van Dam helps Black to his feet and raises his hand pointing to him and getting the crowd soundly behind him. RVD plays to the crowd a bit more, then heads backstage leaving Steven Black with a huge face rub.*
*As soon as Van Dam passed into the backstage area, John Imbriani is quick to question RVD on his association to Steven Black, inquiring as to whether or not, he was indeed Black’s tag team partner for Foleypalooza.*
RVD: “Me? Nah… I just got bored and I figured I could help a brother out. Besides, Paul E. always get all” *makes goofy faces and voices* “angry and grumpy, but seriously, how can I be his partner when I have a hardcore match of my own?”
JI: “So you’ve found an opponent?”
RVD: “Well not yet, but…”
*A voice comes out of nowhere saying “you do now”. The camera pans around until it finds Raven sitting on an anvil case, high in the distance.*
RVD: “Heeeeeey, Raven, what’s up dude?”
RN: “The prodigal son of hardcore has come back to the house of the Raven. Chronologically lonesome, there has been a shift in the tides and the revised standard leaves me desirous of long absent adulation.”
RVD: “Uhh, yeah, whatever dude. I don’t know what you just said, but do you, like, want a shot at the title.”
RN: *sighs* “Precisely.”
RVD: “Cool man, well I’ll tell Wheeler. See you at Foleypalooza. Oh, and Johnny, tell Steve good luck for me, I gotta run to a very important meeting. Check you guys later.”
*The cameras cut to the backstage area where Lauren Rath and Mother Russia are walking and talking as they comb the halls…*
LR: “And they honestly think that vernacular architecture is something special. I say raze it all. Like the fucking wall, you know?”
MR: “Zee fall of zee wall vas a tragedy for us.”
*They stare at each other for a minute and continue walking in silence until they come along the hallway and are blocked by an opening door. From the room emerges Sara and Stephanie McMahon...*
SM: “Well, if it isn’t the dynamic dyke duo.”
SS: “Yeah, how’s it going *scoffs* ladies?”
LR: “Oh, you’re one to talk tons of fun. Maybe you could work on trimming down that ass so it looks more like a ghetto booty instead of a whole neighborhood.”
SS: “Excuse me? You’ve been with so many guys having sex with you is like a 747 flying through the Grand Canyon!”
SM: “Yeah, like a hot dog down a hallway!”
MR: “Maybe if you did not use your sex as a way to keep your man held in check, he could attain the success hers have.”
SM: “Maybe you should keep your slutty Russian ass out of it!”
LR: *holding Mother Russia back* “I wouldn’t talk Stephanie, what is that they always call you?”
*The crowd immediately breaks into a “slut!” chant and Stephanie looks around listening to the masses and begins to yell at them to shut up until the crowd is joined in their repetitive chant by a deep voice that could only belong to one man…*
MF: “Slut! Slut! Slut! Slut! Oh-ho-ho-ho, how goes it ladies? I overheard your little conversation and I just got back from talking with Wheeler about a little company direction at the executive suite, right here in MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA!” *cheap pop followed by ‘Foley! Foley!’ chant.* “But seriously, all these hot girls fighting gives me a big enough rush of testicular fortitude, that I might just come back to wrestle as the Masked Debater!” *The crowd pops huge and the smarks enjoy the inside joke.* “But seriously now. A well-worked muscle is a well-developed muscle. Since it is my pay-per-view, I think we would all like to see these fine ladies square off, in a tag team match!” *The crowd pops huge for the opportunity to see these four talented physical specimens face off.* “And what makes it even better is that you’re referee will be none other than… Me!” *Another ‘Foley!’ chant breaks out as Foley bobs his head and pumps his hand in the air along with it.* “So you ladies keep up the good work, and in two weeks I’ll see you in the ring, right here, in the Igloo!” *cheap pop* “So keep those legs in the air and Have A Nice Day!”
*A video package for Foleypalooza airs to the theme song for the event, the In The Air Tonight Remix, by Phil Collins featuring the Foo Fighters. As it reaches the point where it “really picks up”, the guitars blare and the crowd eats up the mixture of old and new school superstar talent intermixed with the visual montage. After the package airs, the familiar sound of the Rollins Band blares over the loudspeakers and the arena greets their new World Heavyweight Champion in a style befitting his arrogant attitude.*
posted by James at
9:22 AM
