MWL Redline - October 31, 2007
"What?" Chance asked.
Michael cocked his eyebrow and remained silent for a moment. "Huh?"
"You did just say my name, didn't you?" Chance asked.
"No, I--" Michael began, stopping himself. "Shut up."
"What'd I do?" Chance asked, genuinely confused.
"Now then, tonight, Scott Froelich, you and Jim Norris will be on the same team, and facing Spike Norton and Chance." Michael continued, as the two lightweights refused to acknowledge each other. "Now, look, if either of you want to add that title to your record, you'll have to work together."
"This punk can rot in hell, for all I care." Jim growled.
"Say what you will, but I won the belt." Scott retorted, as Jim snarled, fighting to hold himself back.
"Anyway, Allan Martel, are you sure you want to still compete in the qualifiers? You're still in pretty bad shape..." Michael asked.
"I'm better than I was last week." Allan answered. He stood, his stomach and lower chest heavily bandaged. "I'm with Seiryu, right?"
"Yes, the two of you will be taking on David Hitz and Shane Warner." Michael answered.
"Here comes the money, baby!" Shane shouted, in the back of the room, as David facepalmed.
"Michael, can I please redraw?" David asked.
"Let him!" Scott and Jim shouted in unison.
"Sorry, David, it's too late to have you draw again." Michael answered. "Alright, it's time to start the show. Go on, guys." With that, everyone, save for Shane Warner, stood and made their way out of Michael's office. "Why are you still here?" Michael asked in a demanding tone.
"I don't know." Shane shrugged.
"Well, then, get out!" Michael shouted.
"But my match isn't until--" Shane began.
"GO!" Michael yelled, as Shane stood.
"Alright, alright, jeesh!" He sighed, walking out the door, as Michael plopped down into his chair, rubbing his temples.
Match 1: North American Championship Tournament Qualifier - Scott Froelich & Jim Norris v. Spike Norton & Chance
"Hello, everyone, Stevan Corber, here, with one of the competitors in the final North American Championship Tournament Qualifier match in just a few minutes, please welcome, at this time, Allan Martel." Stevan stated, as the Canadian stepped into view. "Allan, in just a moment, you will team up with a member of the Ssu-Ling, Seiryu, and challenge the former MWL World Lightweight Champion, David Hitz, and Mr. Reality, himself, Shane Warner."
"I'm gonna stop you right there, Stevan." Allan interrupted. "There is no way I'll lose that qualifier. Come on, now, two former tag team champions facing two former singles champions? Me and Seiryu have essentially built our legacy here in MWL on tag team matches. I figure that Warner and Hitz will let their egos get the best of them, and they'll end up trying to outdo each other, eventually breaking down their team, and leaving two weakened opponents for us." Allan explained.
"That makes a lot of sense, but how can you be so confident after Extinction? After all, you did take a pretty hard shot through that table from Kentan..." Stevan asked.
"Aaw, it's nothing. It's not like I haven't competed with worse things than sore ribs..." Allan began, being interrupted by a hard axe-handle by none other than Anthony Jacobs. Allan fell to the floor, as Stevan backed away. AJ crouched and waited for Allan to work his way to his feet, in front of the chain-link fence background of the interview area. Allan finally stood, and turned to face AJ. AJ smirked, and charged, full-speed, into Allan, slamming him into the background, and knocking it over.
AJ stood, as Allan laid, unconscious, on the chain-link background. AJ began to circle Allan, while also looking for a new weapon to use. He quickly grabbed a chair, and raised it high, slamming it down onto Allan's chest, as security arrived, pried the chair away from AJ, and pushed him back. He began to back off, admiring his work, and slowly left as the medical staff arrived to attend to Allan.
* * *
"That's two weeks in a row!" Michael shouted, watching the monitor in his office. "My god, what kind of rotten little punk is this?!"
Match 2: North American Championship Tournament Qualifier - Seiryu v. Shane Warner & David Hitz
Michael Jamborgh sat in his office, with the six winners of the earlier qualifiers in his office, the only two absent being Shane Warner and David Hitz. "Alright, Nicholas Hunter, Viper, Scott Froelich, Anthony Jacobs, Panzer, Jim Norris, the six of you have made it into the North American Championship Tournament, along with Shane Warner and David Hitz." Michael began.
"When will they get here?" Viper asked.
"I told them to be here after their qualifier, so it shouldn't be more than a few minutes, at most." Michael answered. "Now, then, the six of you made it to the tournament, and I have to say, Scott, Jim, I'm glad you managed a truce long enough to get through your match." Michael stated. Scott and Jim simply grunted in acknowledgement, still not looking at each other. "So, here is what will happen. Next week, at the beginning of the show, we will go through a second blind draw. It'll work exactly like the first one did, only this time, you'll be drawing for your position in the tournament bracket." With that, David and Shane stepped into Michael's office. "Oh, good, you two finally arrived. There's a blind draw next week for tournament positions."
"How will that work?" David asked.
"Well, just like the first blind draw. If, say, Nicholas drew a five, and AJ drew six, the two of them would face off in the third quarter-final match." Michael stated. "The only real difference is each number only gets drawn once."
"Why don't we just do the draw now, then?" Nicholas asked.
"Because, judging by last week, I don't think we'd have time, especially with the main event coming up in a few seconds. Speaking of which, AJ, you'd better get going, now." Michael stated, as AJ stood, and without saying a word, made his way out of Michael's office.
* * *
The titantron flickered, and a red "X", with the symbol for omega wrapped around its center appeared, then quickly faded, showing the figures of Yugo Ryan, Lino, and Melissa Rez. "Well, my title defense last week passed, and I, again, stand before you, still the MWL World Heavyweight Champion." Yugo grinned, holding his title belt in the camera's view. "And now, it's come to my attention that certain rookie has been sentenced to face one half of SYN, in my close friend, Lino. Well, Anthony Jacobs, was your objective here to leave your name in the annals of MWL history? Or to face the biggest and baddest MWL has to offer?"
"You're facing the biggest and baddest MWL has to offer, tonight, rookie." Lino growled. "I've held twice as many championships as you, little man. There's a reason for that. And now, you will see why..." Lino stated, as the image faded from the titantron's screen.
Main Event: Anthony Jacobs v. Lino
Lino stood over AJ, smirking. Lino garbbed AJ by the head and lifted him up, tossing him into the corner. "Doesn't feel too good, does it?" Lino asked, over a microphone from ringside. Lino slid out of the ring and grabbed a chair, climbing back in. As Lino raised the chair high, ready to strike his opponent, Michael Jamborgh appeared on the stage.
"Hold it right there, Lino! Don't you dare hit him with that chair!" Michael shouted, as Lino looked back at Michael, hesitating. He, again, prepared to strike. "Lino, you do it, and you and Catastrophe lose the MWL World Tag Team Championship!" With that threat, Lino tossed the chair to the outside, slid out of the ring and began to make his way backstage.