Dark match - Tyler Breeze v Apollo Crews: - No contest.
[Logo] - Revolution 2
No time for pyro or introductions tonight, Kurt Angle is in the ring stomping the hell out of Tyler Breeze. He grabs a tight Ankle lock that has Breeze flailing and tapping wildly until Crews slides into the ring to make the save. Angle drops the hold and goes to work on Crews, taking a few right hands but taking Crews down with two German suplexes and then locks his ankle too. IFW doesn't seem to make use of arena security anymore, anything goes in this grimy fight club, so this brawl is broken up by the appearance of the manager himself, Dario Cueto. Cueto, however, does have two personal security guards so he gestures for them to help out.
Cueto: Mr Angle, so nice of you to join us. Unfortunately my temple is invite-only, so it's time for you to leave.
Angle releases Crews now and starts swinging at the two security guards to keep them out of the ring. He gets a good right hand in on one to take him off the apron before the other can tackle him. Believe it or not, tackling Kurt Angle isn't such a great idea. Angle shows some of his technical prowess in tying the guy up and wrenching on his ankle too. With the security guard's ankle possibly broken, Kurt demands a mic from Melissa Santos at ringside to address Cueto.
Angle: Cueto! I want Morrison. I'm not leaving this ring until you give me Morrison.
Dario is rubbing his forehead with his hand. He turns to a stagehand and whispers something, the man scurries away.
Cueto: Ok. Mr Angle, you have my attention. I will make you a very generous offer. The men you have just dealt with were mere hired help. I have just sent word to the mercenaries in the back that there will be a substantial reward for your capture. I suggest you vacate my ring before they get out here. However, my temple is a place of violence and entertainment, and I can appreciate your contributions to both. Mr Angle, I will grant you your wish, a match with John Morrison, if you are named the world's most dangerous man. In fact, whoever is crowned world's most dangerous man will receive a championship opportunity.
Angle isn't happy about the offer, but has little choice.
Cueto: I take it you accept, hmm? Good. You'll be in action at Revolution 3. For tonight, I must ask you again to leave my temple. And for your own sake, Mr Angle, make it quick.
Several wrestlers start to amass on the stage next to Dario, the likes of Brian Cage, Seth Rollins and the Dudley Boyz, among others. Angle figures, in the words of JR, that discretion is the better part of valour, and it's time to let this one go.
We head backstage to a dark, dingy hallway. The floor is covered in debris and the walls in tattered posters and cobwebs. Half of the striplights on the ceiling are burned out, another one flickers. Footsteps echo, hard concrete claps and crisp packets crunch. A familiar figure slips into and out of the shadows, he pauses just short of the camera with a disgusted sneer on his face. Randy Orton. He, of course, is wearing no pants. Orton holds his arm out to block the passage of a man carrying paperwork, easily six inches shorter than Orton, and addresses the staff member without looking directly at him.
Orton: Tell me this isn't IFW. Man: Oh, Randy, hi. We're expecting you.
Orton shoves the man against the wall and leans in close.
Orton: Never call me Randy again. You call me sir. Do you understand? Man: Y...yes, sir. Orton: I'm booked tonight. Who is my opponent? Man: I'm afraid I can't tell you that, sir.
Orton slams the man into the wall a second time, clearly losing his temper.
Man: Really! R-really, I don't know! Mr Cueto doesn't tell us anything!
Orton tries to suppress his anger, but still throws the man to the ground as he leaves. The man waits for Orton to move away before scrambling to pick up his dropped papers, but doesn't get many before Orton sprints back into the picture to deliver a brutal punt to knock the man clean out. He stands over his prey, his shoulders rising and falling as he seethes. His fists clench tightly, his head wrenches to the side, but he lets it go and eventually finally walks on.
Back to the ring now, where a spotlight appears on the stage. Rapid music plays and Ken Anderson stomps out into the light. He holds his hand up in the air and grabs a falling microphone.
Anderson: Ladies and gentlemen, I weigh in tonight at two hundred and forty three pounds, I hail from Green! Bay! Wis! Con! Siiiiiiiin! I may not yet officially be the world's most dangerous man, but for ten years I've been the world's most dangerous asshole, Mmmmmmmmiiiiiiissstttteeeeeeeerrrr...Aaaaaaan-derrr-sooooooon!
Anderson starts to head towards the ring, then stops, looks over his shoulder, then turns back to grab the mic again.
Anderson: AN-DER-SON!
With that taken care of, it's time to find out who Anderson's opponent will be. He's left waiting though, a long pause that throws him off his game a little. He asks the referee what's going on, but he doesn't have any idea either. Boom! Pyros sparkle down from the rafters on either side of the modest stage setup. The veteran giant Big Show makes his way slowly and deliberately from behind the curtain and down the ramp.
JBL: He's here! Striker: I can't tell you what it's like to be in the ring with that man right there. He's just so big, I was never able to work out how to wrestle him! JBL: Usually I'd tell you that's because you suck, Matt, but in this case you're absolutely right.
Melissa: And his opponent, from Tampa, Florida, weighing in at four hundred and forty pounds, Paul "the Great" Wight!
Striker: Big Show, as we know him, now going by the name Paul Wight. He says he wanted to drop his, quote, "slave name," now that IFW is under new, less restrictive, management. JBL: Big Show, Paul Wight, the Giant, who cares? Call him whatever you want, this man is dangerous!
And Ken Anderson knows it. He's not happy about this draw.
Match 1 - Ken Anderson v Paul "Great" Wight: World's most dangerous man tournament, round one - Anderson launches himself at Wight, clubbing his chest with forearms. Wight laughs at the feeble attack, blocking a right hand with his left and slamming his right hand onto Anderson's throat. Wight backs Anderson up into a corner and delivers a couple of his trademark chops, the slap echoing throughout the building. Anderson sells like he can't breathe, stumbling out from the corner to where Wight can take him down with a simple lariat. Wight kicks Anderson under the bottom rope to the floor.
Striker: This is what I was talking about. How do you attack a man so huge? He's practically impervious to pain! JBL: Honestly Matt, I wish I knew. You'd think a guy like Show would tire easily but I tell ya, I hit him with all I had and he just took it all until I had exhausted myself! Striker: No such luck for Anderson here, Paul Wight is on offense. JBL: And that spells trouble.
Wight waits for Anderson to get back into the ring, breaking the count at five, but simply pie faces Anderson over the top rope back out to the floor. This time the count gets to seven before Anderson can roll back in, at which time Wight chuckles to himself that Anderson still isn't understanding that he's trying to be nice. This time picks Anderson up by the hair and tells him "One more chance," but Anderson slaps him. Wight takes the hit and shakes his head in disappointment. He gorilla presses Anderson overhead and drops him over the top.
Striker: That's got to be a fifteen foot drop! JBL: To the concrete floor!
Anderson doesn't move for a seven count, but quickly regains his senses and hops back up onto the apron and fights to his feet using the ropes. Wight shakes his head again and ends the one-sided match with a big right hand to put Anderson down for the ten count. - Winner: Paul "The Great" Wight
Wight looks satisfied with his performance, but doesn't do his raised hand pose or anything else associated with his Big Show persona. Who can possibly stop the big man?
We head backstage again to a closed office door and a long line of wrestlers. Masked luchadores, strongmen, pro athletes and some familiar faces. Seth Rollins comes into the picture, checking out the competition. He's distracted when William Regal walks past him, heading towards the office door. Rollins catches up with him as he's fumbling with a bunch of keys.
Rollins: Hey, Bill. What's going on here? Regal: William. And these are just a few of the world's most dangerous man hopefuls. Rollins: Ok? And...what are you doing here? Don't tell me you're thinking of joining? Ha ha ha! Regal: Listen here, sunshine. If I wanted to I could still take you down to that ring and give you a damn good hiding. But no, Mr Cueto has assigned me to be his talent judge. I have to choose from his supposed shortlist. Rollins: Oh yeah? So who is on there? Regal: Who isn't on there? I know you kids love reading that PW-whatever 500, I tell you, that barely scratches the surface. I've got my work cut out for me, so if you don't mind...
Regal unlocks his door and enters.
Rollins: Hey! Bill! Who have I got in the second round?
No reply. The first man in the line, Adrian Neville, looks Rollins up and down before entering Regal's office. Rollins decides to get a better look at the group. He skips a few unknowns, including the luchador Fenix, and stops at Sami Zayn.
Rollins: You? Zayn: Me. Rollins: There's nothing dangerous about you.
Moving on, Rollins takes a step back as he reaches Mark Henry.
Rollins: Oh, I get it. World's strongest, world's most dangerous? Yeah, cute. Henry: Ain't nothin' cute about it, boy. You got that right.
Henry steps aside and reveals Wade Barrett.
Barrett: There won't be anything pretty about what happens to you or anybody else when they get into that ring with me. Rollins: Oh yeah? Who are you to be talking about beauty, huh? If you end up in there with me, I'll break that nose of yours all over again, just like I did to John Cena.
Barrett chuckles to himself as he's joined by Justin Gabriel, Heath Slater, Darren Young, David Otunga and even amateur boxer Michael Tarver.
Barrett: Well then. I only hope we do meet again, we'll see who gets broken.
Rollins wants nothing to do with the Nexus, he gives up on his scouting mission and turns away. His escape is blocked by the greatest man that ever lived, Austin Aries.
Aries: Don't worry about them, Seth. There's plenty of people already here in IFW for you to worry about.
Aries pats Seth on the cheek and walks away. Rollins looks to be feeling a little insecure now his Shield allies are gone.
We head back to the arena now, where the sound of an engine revving brings the "Real Deal" Bobby Lashley onto the stage. He benefits from IFW's modest pyro budget, holding his arms out to a shower of sparks.
Striker: He's here! We've been hearing rumours about Bobby Lashley coming to the temple. JBL: This man is a legitimate freak of nature, just look at the size of him! Striker: It's not just his size that makes him dangerous John, this man is undefeated in his last eight MMA fights, a streak dating back four years! JBL: Who can possibly stand up to Bobby Lashley?
With Lashley now in the ring, it's time to find out who will stand up to him. It's cruiserweight sensation, Fenix!
Striker: I've seen a lot of Fenix's work, John, and he's not to be taken lightly. JBL: We've already seen tonight that size wins fights, can Fenix survive in there with Lashley?
Match 2 - R1: Bobby Lashley v Fenix: World's most dangerous man tournament, round one - So originally this match was Lashley v Strowman, but apparently I didn't see that Strowman was already under contract to GWA. So now it's Lashley selling a bit for Fenix but not having too much trouble putting the little man away. - Winner: Bobby Lashley
Lashley sells his head as he has his arm raised, kicking off his run in the tournament with style.
Striker: What a victory for Lashley. JBL: I always say that a good big man beats a good little man every time, well tonight a good big man did just that! Ha ha! Congratulations Bobby Lashley! Striker: Well folks, I have some huge news for you. We've had some big debuts already over these past two shows, but next week it gets even bigger.
A graphic pops up on screen showing Matt and Jeff Hardy.
Striker: IFW originals, the legendary Hardy Boyz will be returning at Revolution 3! Both the Charismatic Enigma Jeff and the Iconic Matt Hardy are former IFW champions and have held the IFW tag team championship together as well. These men are legends of this business. JBL: And they're fun to watch! But I have to be honest Matt, I've been in the ring with these guys and they're a hell of a tag team, but if they think they're going to be crowned the world's most dangerous man? I don't like their chances! Striker: I don't know what you're talking about John. I learned a long time ago not to count out the Hardy Boyz. If anyone can pull it off, they can.
No time to undersell the new guys right now, we have another new guy to look at! Rusev udria, Rusev machka! Alexander Rusev heads out to the stage alongside the Ravishing Russian, Lana. He stomps and roars, then heads down to the ring to look mean a bit more.
Striker: Oh man! The Bulgarian Brute is here! JBL: It's gonna take a lot to get past Rusev. Who is going to step up to the plate?
It's the man we saw earlier tonight, Randy Orton! He still looks disgusted by the downsized IFW, as if he belongs in bigger, cleaner arenas. Instead of entering the ring he walks around to the far side and grabs a microphone from Melissa Santos.
Orton: Is this it? This filthy, disgusting building? Broken lights, second rate announcers and the less said about the quality of competition the better. This isn't the IFW I know, and it sure as hell isn't the IFW I deserve. I'm Randy Orton, third generation superstar, 12-time world heavyweight champion.
Orton rolls into the ring.
Orton: And I have to come here, to this dump, and prove myself by beating big, fat, hairy losers like this? I have to prove myself after fourteen years? Dario Cueto wants me, Randy Orton, to prove that I am still the world's most dangerous man? It's pathetic. It's a joke! This place is a joke. And to prove it, I am going to beat this man and anybody else they put in my way until I get to John Morrison. Then I'm going to beat John Morrison and become the IFW champion. I'm going to conquer this place, and when I'm handed that belt I'm going to throw it to the ground and walk the hell out of here. I deserve better than this!
Orton throws the mic down and the bell rings.
Match 3 - R1: Alexander Rusev v Randy Orton: World's most dangerous man tournament, round one - Orton looks Rusev up and down, hurling some insults at him about how Rusev doesn't deserve to be in the same ring as him. Rusev takes it for a moment, but quickly lashes out and floors Orton with a right hand. Orton looks like he's been punched for the first time, shocked and insulted. He to his feet and gets right into Rusev's face, yelling at him and calling him a stupid son fo a bitch. Rusev responds by levelling Orton a second time, then going on the attack with some stomps. Rusev grinds Orton into the mat, using all of his brute strength to crush the third generation superstar. With Orton barely moving Rusev backs off into the ropes for a big splash, but Orton manages to roll away out of the ring to buy himself some breathing space. He staggers around the ringside area holding his jaw, coming face to face with Lana. Lana tells Orton to get back into the ring, Orton looks up at Rusev who is awaiting his return to the match, then pie-faces Lana to the floor. Rusev snaps, stomping over to the outside just as Orton slides back under the ropes to get back in. Rusev follows him in but Orton is ready with some stomps of his own, attacking any stray limb Rusev offers him, then finishes off with a knee drop to the back of the head. After what feels like an eternity in a chinlock, Rusev starts to fire up to his feet and breaks the hold with elbows to the midsection. He backs Orton into the ropes and into an Irish whip, Orton ducks the clothesline on the rebound and catches a charging Rusev with a dropkick to the knee that sends him tumbling out to the apron. Orton grabs Rusev through the ropes and hits the elevated DDT, then slams the canvas with his fists. Rusev turns right into an RKO, but switches as Orton is in mid-air into a huge bear hug. Lana is very happy about the counter. Orton struggles against the Bulgarian's grip but can't seem to get out, he reaches back to try to fight his way free but can't get any decent shots it. Eventually Orton starts to fade, his knees buckle and Rusev drops him to the mat, switching his hold into the accolade. Orton gets his breath back only to find himself in excrutiating pain, no choice but to submit. - Winner: Alexander Rusev
Rusev keeps the hold locked in for a few more seconds until the referee warns him about a decision reversal. Lana tells him to break it so the referee can raise his hand. Rusev pumps his fists in the air wildly while Orton can't believe what has happened.
Striker: Orton is distraught here! JBL: He has every right to be! He's lost to an inferior athlete! Striker: Rusev doesn't look inferior to me! He beat Orton clean here! Orton looks like he didn't even consider losing to be a possibility! JBL: Nor should he. You can't go in there with that kind of thought in your mind. Maybe that's why you lost so much!
A video package plays of tonight's dark match. Apollo Crews and Tyler Breeze are just about to lock up when Kurt Angle storms the ring.
Striker: Well, in any case, we've had some big news tonight. Before we went on air tonight we were set for a first round match between Tyler Breeze and Apollo Crews when this happened.
Angle lays Breeze out with a lariat and delivers a couple of German suplexes to Crews, who rolls to the outside. Angle goes to work on Breeze, stomping the hell out of him.
Striker: This is where we joined the action. Kurt Angle out of nowhere involving himself in this match. JBL: Kurt clearly unhappy about the way things went down last time, having his career stolen from him by John Morrison and Dario Cueto. Striker: Angle certainly made a statement, and got the attention of Mr Cueto.
The video shows Cueto allowing Angle to join the world's most dangerous man tournament and promising a match with Morrison if Angle is able to win.
JBL: We don't even know how many men are in this dangerous man tournament, there's no telling what Angle will have to do! Striker: All we know for sure is that Kurt Angle will be in action at Revolution 3 and he has to win if he's to keep his career alive. JBL: And don't forget Matt, the man who defeated Kurt for the IFW championship, John Morrison, will be holding his championship celebration ceremony tonight! Striker: Yeah. Can't wait for that...
Pseww! We're going all out with the pyro budget tonight as a red fireball hits the set and sparks off a few more explosions. Team 3D head out amid the smoke and clink their tag title belts together before heading down to the ring.
Striker: There they are, the most decorated tag team in professional wrestling history, the deadly Dudley Boyz. JBL: I've been in wars with these guys myself. It feels like a lifetime ago but they still look to be as good as they ever were. Striker: This match came about after Shelton Benjamin defeated Devon Dudley at Revolution 1, however this rivalry goes back a little further as it was Team 3D who ended the record breaking tag title reign set by the World's Greatest Tag Team. JBL: Charlie Haas has retired, but it looks as though Shelton Benjamin has found himself a very capable replacement.
By now Shelton is out on the stage and gestures to the back for his partner to come and join him. James Storm saunters out drinking a beer, offering another to Shelton who turns it down. What a professional.
Match 4 - Tag championship: Team 3D v Shelton Benjamin & James Storm: IFW tag team championship - Ok, not going to write too much for this one, this show is late enough as it is. You know the guys, you can guess how this match goes. Shelton kicks things off like a wildman, throwing fools all over the place as if they're not 300lbs, but soon gets cut off and the tag game favours the Dudleyz. They keep Shelton grounded and get the heat on him with quick tags and powerful brawling. Shelton is held back from making the tag a couple of times including one where the illegal Devon pulls Storm off the apron and slams him into the steps. Eventually Benjamin hits the dragon whip to buy himself enough space to lunge into the tag to Storm, who is now out for some revenge. Storm is all fired up and has the Dudleyz reeling after a quick barrage of offence, knocking Bubba off the apron with the last call superkick and then stalking Devon for the eye of the storm. Devon slips behind and rolls to the outside next to Bubba, both dazed. Shelton explodes into the ring, hitting the far ropes and leaping clean over Storm and the ropes to take Team 3D out with a tope con hilo. Benjamin throws Devon back into the ring for Storm to finish off, but Bubba nails him with a low blow. This distracts Storm who Devon hits from behind, sending him into the ropes where Bubba cracks him with his own beer bottle. Devon whips Storm to the far ropes and Bubba rolls back in just in time to hit the 3D. - Winners, and still IFW tag team champions: Team 3D
JBL: That's how a real tag team operates! Team 3D showing why they're the greatest of all time! Striker: They say turnabout is fair play, and while I question that sentiment I don't believe James Storm has a leg to stand on if he is to complain about the beer bottle here. JBL: Bottle or no bottle, the Dudleyz walk out of here as they have for over 20 years, as champions!
We take a quick break to recap the men going through to the second round of the world's most dangerous man tournament so far; Mistico, Mil Muertes, Seth Rollins, Shelton Benjamin, Paul Wight, Bobby Lashley and Alexander Rusev.
When we come back, a mariachi band is playing upbeat music and there are a few streamers and balloons around the arena. It's time for the victory celebration of our new IFW champion! John Morrison heads out to the stage with his title belt under an expensive looking jacket, flicking his hair in slow motion before heading down to the ring.
Melissa: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your new IFW champion, the Shaman of Sexy, John Morrison!
Morrison takes a microphone, kicks a stray balloon up into the air and swats it with his hand.
Morrison: Before I get to the celebration, I have an apology to make. Roll the footage.
We see a clip from last week as Morrison goes back on his word never to cash in his Money In The Bank contract on Kurt Angle. He hits Angle with the moonlight drive and pins him.
Morrison: As you can see, I did something I never thought I would do. I understand why some of you might think I was wrong to do that, and to you...I apologise. It was a tough decision, but after all this time I saw no alternative. But I'm sorry. I robbed Kurt Angle, and I robbed all of you.
Striker: What? JBL: I wasn't expecting such-
Morrison: ...of the privilege of gazing apon these abs of steel.
Striker: Oh. JBL: Ok, there we go.
Morrison: I'm sorry to each and every one of you who slave all month at your pathetic, dead-end jobs to scrape up enough money to buy a ticket to see me, and now you don't even get to see the goods, because they're hidden behind this glorious, glistening, gleaming championship belt. I understand how upset you all got, crying to me on Twitter, asking me why. Asking me how I could betray you all. The answer is simple, I betrayed nobody. I've never pretended to be your hero, I've never pretended to care about anyone or anything but myself, my LA woman, and my Money In The Bank briefcase.
That's as far as Morrison can get, as the Godzilla roar echoes through the temple and Samoa Joe stomps down the ramp. He steps through the ropes and gets into Morrison's face. The new champion doesn't back down, trading some words with the intruder.
Morrison: Ok, we have ourselves a party crasher. I'm sorry Joe, you're a little early, they haven't brought the cake out yet. Joe: You shut your mouth and listen. Last week you crossed a line and I will be dealing with you, but you weren't the real story. It doesn't take a genius to tell that something isn't right around here, the way Kurt was talking just wasn't like him. You see, I've fought with and against Kurt for ten years, drove across every inch of this country with him and I know there is nobody in this business with more passion than him. Kurt Angle doesn't quit. Morrison: Blah blah blah. I'm sure this story is fascinating Joe, but now isn't the time. If you hadn't noticed, this is my championship celebration so actually I am the real story. Now if you don't mind... Joe: I told you to shut your mouth John. You see, I've done some digging, and I don't know all the details just yet but I know that Dario Cueto has been trying to push Kurt Angle out of IFW. You see, Cueto has his favourites and Kurt Angle was never supposed to leave this ring last week with that belt. Morrison: If you're saying I'm working with Cueto, you're wrong. Joe: No John, I'm not saying that. I'm saying that you got yourself mixed up in something that you don't want to be mixed up in, John. Morrison: Look, I don't have time for conspiracy theories right now Joe, I'm trying to say a few words about my victory. You go on your little crusade against Dario on your own time, I have my own business to take care of. Championship business. Joe: That's where you're wrong, John. You see, my business and your business are a lot closer than you think. Morrison: Ok, go ahead. Tell me why I should care why Dario Cueto wants Kurt Angle out of IFW? Joe: That's why I told you to listen, John. I told you, Cueto has his favourites. If you didn't take that belt from Kurt, what do you think would have happened? You weren't supposed to get involved, John. And what do you think Cueto's going to do once Kurt is out of the way? He's coming after you. Morrison: The way I see it, he should be thanking me for doing his job for him. He wanted Kurt out, well I took him out. Joe: Yes you did, and that's why I'm out here. You see, you're holding something that doesn't belong to you and I don't intend to let you hold on to it. If you'd just kept your word and held onto that contract I'd be out here with someone else right now, but instead you made yourself my business. I don't know who Cueto was setting up to be standing where you are, but I don't care. I'm going to take that belt back in Kurt's name, then Cueto's boy will have me to deal with. Morrison: Is that a challenge, Joe? Am I supposed to feel threatened? Joe: You feel however you want to feel, John. I'm just telling you not to get too comfortable.
Joe throws his mic down and turns to leave. Morrison takes a second to reflect on everything, then decides the right course of action is to attack Joe from behind, laying him out with a belt shot to the back of the head. With his celebration ruined, Morrison closes the show by standing over his fallen adversary and holding the IFW championship belt high over his head.
Dark match - Tyler Breeze v Apollo Crews:
- No contest.
[Logo] - Revolution 2
No time for pyro or introductions tonight, Kurt Angle is in the ring stomping the hell out of Tyler Breeze. He grabs a tight Ankle lock that has Breeze flailing and tapping wildly until Crews slides into the ring to make the save. Angle drops the hold and goes to work on Crews, taking a few right hands but taking Crews down with two German suplexes and then locks his ankle too. IFW doesn't seem to make use of arena security anymore, anything goes in this grimy fight club, so this brawl is broken up by the appearance of the manager himself, Dario Cueto. Cueto, however, does have two personal security guards so he gestures for them to help out.
Cueto: Mr Angle, so nice of you to join us. Unfortunately my temple is invite-only, so it's time for you to leave.
Angle releases Crews now and starts swinging at the two security guards to keep them out of the ring. He gets a good right hand in on one to take him off the apron before the other can tackle him. Believe it or not, tackling Kurt Angle isn't such a great idea. Angle shows some of his technical prowess in tying the guy up and wrenching on his ankle too. With the security guard's ankle possibly broken, Kurt demands a mic from Melissa Santos at ringside to address Cueto.
Angle: Cueto! I want Morrison. I'm not leaving this ring until you give me Morrison.
Dario is rubbing his forehead with his hand. He turns to a stagehand and whispers something, the man scurries away.
Cueto: Ok. Mr Angle, you have my attention. I will make you a very generous offer. The men you have just dealt with were mere hired help. I have just sent word to the mercenaries in the back that there will be a substantial reward for your capture. I suggest you vacate my ring before they get out here. However, my temple is a place of violence and entertainment, and I can appreciate your contributions to both. Mr Angle, I will grant you your wish, a match with John Morrison, if you are named the world's most dangerous man. In fact, whoever is crowned world's most dangerous man will receive a championship opportunity.
Angle isn't happy about the offer, but has little choice.
Cueto: I take it you accept, hmm? Good. You'll be in action at Revolution 3. For tonight, I must ask you again to leave my temple. And for your own sake, Mr Angle, make it quick.
Several wrestlers start to amass on the stage next to Dario, the likes of Brian Cage, Seth Rollins and the Dudley Boyz, among others. Angle figures, in the words of JR, that discretion is the better part of valour, and it's time to let this one go.
We head backstage to a dark, dingy hallway. The floor is covered in debris and the walls in tattered posters and cobwebs. Half of the striplights on the ceiling are burned out, another one flickers. Footsteps echo, hard concrete claps and crisp packets crunch. A familiar figure slips into and out of the shadows, he pauses just short of the camera with a disgusted sneer on his face. Randy Orton. He, of course, is wearing no pants. Orton holds his arm out to block the passage of a man carrying paperwork, easily six inches shorter than Orton, and addresses the staff member without looking directly at him.
Orton: Tell me this isn't IFW.
Man: Oh, Randy, hi. We're expecting you.
Orton shoves the man against the wall and leans in close.
Orton: Never call me Randy again. You call me sir. Do you understand?
Man: Y...yes, sir.
Orton: I'm booked tonight. Who is my opponent?
Man: I'm afraid I can't tell you that, sir.
Orton slams the man into the wall a second time, clearly losing his temper.
Man: Really! R-really, I don't know! Mr Cueto doesn't tell us anything!
Orton tries to suppress his anger, but still throws the man to the ground as he leaves. The man waits for Orton to move away before scrambling to pick up his dropped papers, but doesn't get many before Orton sprints back into the picture to deliver a brutal punt to knock the man clean out. He stands over his prey, his shoulders rising and falling as he seethes. His fists clench tightly, his head wrenches to the side, but he lets it go and eventually finally walks on.
Back to the ring now, where a spotlight appears on the stage. Rapid music plays and Ken Anderson stomps out into the light. He holds his hand up in the air and grabs a falling microphone.
Anderson: Ladies and gentlemen, I weigh in tonight at two hundred and forty three pounds, I hail from Green! Bay! Wis! Con! Siiiiiiiin! I may not yet officially be the world's most dangerous man, but for ten years I've been the world's most dangerous asshole, Mmmmmmmmiiiiiiissstttteeeeeeeerrrr...Aaaaaaan-derrr-sooooooon!
Anderson starts to head towards the ring, then stops, looks over his shoulder, then turns back to grab the mic again.
Anderson: AN-DER-SON!
With that taken care of, it's time to find out who Anderson's opponent will be. He's left waiting though, a long pause that throws him off his game a little. He asks the referee what's going on, but he doesn't have any idea either. Boom! Pyros sparkle down from the rafters on either side of the modest stage setup. The veteran giant Big Show makes his way slowly and deliberately from behind the curtain and down the ramp.
JBL: He's here!
Striker: I can't tell you what it's like to be in the ring with that man right there. He's just so big, I was never able to work out how to wrestle him!
JBL: Usually I'd tell you that's because you suck, Matt, but in this case you're absolutely right.
Melissa: And his opponent, from Tampa, Florida, weighing in at four hundred and forty pounds, Paul "the Great" Wight!
Striker: Big Show, as we know him, now going by the name Paul Wight. He says he wanted to drop his, quote, "slave name," now that IFW is under new, less restrictive, management.
JBL: Big Show, Paul Wight, the Giant, who cares? Call him whatever you want, this man is dangerous!
And Ken Anderson knows it. He's not happy about this draw.
Match 1 - Ken Anderson v Paul "Great" Wight:
World's most dangerous man tournament, round one
- Anderson launches himself at Wight, clubbing his chest with forearms. Wight laughs at the feeble attack, blocking a right hand with his left and slamming his right hand onto Anderson's throat. Wight backs Anderson up into a corner and delivers a couple of his trademark chops, the slap echoing throughout the building. Anderson sells like he can't breathe, stumbling out from the corner to where Wight can take him down with a simple lariat. Wight kicks Anderson under the bottom rope to the floor.
Striker: This is what I was talking about. How do you attack a man so huge? He's practically impervious to pain!
JBL: Honestly Matt, I wish I knew. You'd think a guy like Show would tire easily but I tell ya, I hit him with all I had and he just took it all until I had exhausted myself!
Striker: No such luck for Anderson here, Paul Wight is on offense.
JBL: And that spells trouble.
Wight waits for Anderson to get back into the ring, breaking the count at five, but simply pie faces Anderson over the top rope back out to the floor. This time the count gets to seven before Anderson can roll back in, at which time Wight chuckles to himself that Anderson still isn't understanding that he's trying to be nice. This time picks Anderson up by the hair and tells him "One more chance," but Anderson slaps him. Wight takes the hit and shakes his head in disappointment. He gorilla presses Anderson overhead and drops him over the top.
Striker: That's got to be a fifteen foot drop!
JBL: To the concrete floor!
Anderson doesn't move for a seven count, but quickly regains his senses and hops back up onto the apron and fights to his feet using the ropes. Wight shakes his head again and ends the one-sided match with a big right hand to put Anderson down for the ten count.
- Winner: Paul "The Great" Wight
Wight looks satisfied with his performance, but doesn't do his raised hand pose or anything else associated with his Big Show persona. Who can possibly stop the big man?
We head backstage again to a closed office door and a long line of wrestlers. Masked luchadores, strongmen, pro athletes and some familiar faces. Seth Rollins comes into the picture, checking out the competition. He's distracted when William Regal walks past him, heading towards the office door. Rollins catches up with him as he's fumbling with a bunch of keys.
Rollins: Hey, Bill. What's going on here?
Regal: William. And these are just a few of the world's most dangerous man hopefuls.
Rollins: Ok? And...what are you doing here? Don't tell me you're thinking of joining? Ha ha ha!
Regal: Listen here, sunshine. If I wanted to I could still take you down to that ring and give you a damn good hiding. But no, Mr Cueto has assigned me to be his talent judge. I have to choose from his supposed shortlist.
Rollins: Oh yeah? So who is on there?
Regal: Who isn't on there? I know you kids love reading that PW-whatever 500, I tell you, that barely scratches the surface. I've got my work cut out for me, so if you don't mind...
Regal unlocks his door and enters.
Rollins: Hey! Bill! Who have I got in the second round?
No reply. The first man in the line, Adrian Neville, looks Rollins up and down before entering Regal's office. Rollins decides to get a better look at the group. He skips a few unknowns, including the luchador Fenix, and stops at Sami Zayn.
Rollins: You?
Zayn: Me.
Rollins: There's nothing dangerous about you.
Moving on, Rollins takes a step back as he reaches Mark Henry.
Rollins: Oh, I get it. World's strongest, world's most dangerous? Yeah, cute.
Henry: Ain't nothin' cute about it, boy.
You got that right.
Henry steps aside and reveals Wade Barrett.
Barrett: There won't be anything pretty about what happens to you or anybody else when they get into that ring with me.
Rollins: Oh yeah? Who are you to be talking about beauty, huh? If you end up in there with me, I'll break that nose of yours all over again, just like I did to John Cena.
Barrett chuckles to himself as he's joined by Justin Gabriel, Heath Slater, Darren Young, David Otunga and even amateur boxer Michael Tarver.
Barrett: Well then. I only hope we do meet again, we'll see who gets broken.
Rollins wants nothing to do with the Nexus, he gives up on his scouting mission and turns away. His escape is blocked by the greatest man that ever lived, Austin Aries.
Aries: Don't worry about them, Seth. There's plenty of people already here in IFW for you to worry about.
Aries pats Seth on the cheek and walks away. Rollins looks to be feeling a little insecure now his Shield allies are gone.
We head back to the arena now, where the sound of an engine revving brings the "Real Deal" Bobby Lashley onto the stage. He benefits from IFW's modest pyro budget, holding his arms out to a shower of sparks.
Striker: He's here! We've been hearing rumours about Bobby Lashley coming to the temple.
JBL: This man is a legitimate freak of nature, just look at the size of him!
Striker: It's not just his size that makes him dangerous John, this man is undefeated in his last eight MMA fights, a streak dating back four years!
JBL: Who can possibly stand up to Bobby Lashley?
With Lashley now in the ring, it's time to find out who will stand up to him. It's cruiserweight sensation, Fenix!
Striker: I've seen a lot of Fenix's work, John, and he's not to be taken lightly.
JBL: We've already seen tonight that size wins fights, can Fenix survive in there with Lashley?
Match 2 - R1: Bobby Lashley v Fenix:
World's most dangerous man tournament, round one
- So originally this match was Lashley v Strowman, but apparently I didn't see that Strowman was already under contract to GWA. So now it's Lashley selling a bit for Fenix but not having too much trouble putting the little man away.
- Winner: Bobby Lashley
Lashley sells his head as he has his arm raised, kicking off his run in the tournament with style.
Striker: What a victory for Lashley.
JBL: I always say that a good big man beats a good little man every time, well tonight a good big man did just that! Ha ha! Congratulations Bobby Lashley!
Striker: Well folks, I have some huge news for you. We've had some big debuts already over these past two shows, but next week it gets even bigger.
A graphic pops up on screen showing Matt and Jeff Hardy.
Striker: IFW originals, the legendary Hardy Boyz will be returning at Revolution 3! Both the Charismatic Enigma Jeff and the Iconic Matt Hardy are former IFW champions and have held the IFW tag team championship together as well. These men are legends of this business.
JBL: And they're fun to watch! But I have to be honest Matt, I've been in the ring with these guys and they're a hell of a tag team, but if they think they're going to be crowned the world's most dangerous man? I don't like their chances!
Striker: I don't know what you're talking about John. I learned a long time ago not to count out the Hardy Boyz. If anyone can pull it off, they can.
No time to undersell the new guys right now, we have another new guy to look at! Rusev udria, Rusev machka! Alexander Rusev heads out to the stage alongside the Ravishing Russian, Lana. He stomps and roars, then heads down to the ring to look mean a bit more.
Striker: Oh man! The Bulgarian Brute is here!
JBL: It's gonna take a lot to get past Rusev. Who is going to step up to the plate?
It's the man we saw earlier tonight, Randy Orton! He still looks disgusted by the downsized IFW, as if he belongs in bigger, cleaner arenas. Instead of entering the ring he walks around to the far side and grabs a microphone from Melissa Santos.
Orton: Is this it? This filthy, disgusting building? Broken lights, second rate announcers and the less said about the quality of competition the better. This isn't the IFW I know, and it sure as hell isn't the IFW I deserve. I'm Randy Orton, third generation superstar, 12-time world heavyweight champion.
Orton rolls into the ring.
Orton: And I have to come here, to this dump, and prove myself by beating big, fat, hairy losers like this? I have to prove myself after fourteen years? Dario Cueto wants me, Randy Orton, to prove that I am still the world's most dangerous man? It's pathetic. It's a joke! This place is a joke. And to prove it, I am going to beat this man and anybody else they put in my way until I get to John Morrison. Then I'm going to beat John Morrison and become the IFW champion. I'm going to conquer this place, and when I'm handed that belt I'm going to throw it to the ground and walk the hell out of here. I deserve better than this!
Orton throws the mic down and the bell rings.
Match 3 - R1: Alexander Rusev v Randy Orton:
World's most dangerous man tournament, round one
- Orton looks Rusev up and down, hurling some insults at him about how Rusev doesn't deserve to be in the same ring as him. Rusev takes it for a moment, but quickly lashes out and floors Orton with a right hand. Orton looks like he's been punched for the first time, shocked and insulted. He to his feet and gets right into Rusev's face, yelling at him and calling him a stupid son fo a bitch. Rusev responds by levelling Orton a second time, then going on the attack with some stomps. Rusev grinds Orton into the mat, using all of his brute strength to crush the third generation superstar. With Orton barely moving Rusev backs off into the ropes for a big splash, but Orton manages to roll away out of the ring to buy himself some breathing space. He staggers around the ringside area holding his jaw, coming face to face with Lana. Lana tells Orton to get back into the ring, Orton looks up at Rusev who is awaiting his return to the match, then pie-faces Lana to the floor. Rusev snaps, stomping over to the outside just as Orton slides back under the ropes to get back in. Rusev follows him in but Orton is ready with some stomps of his own, attacking any stray limb Rusev offers him, then finishes off with a knee drop to the back of the head. After what feels like an eternity in a chinlock, Rusev starts to fire up to his feet and breaks the hold with elbows to the midsection. He backs Orton into the ropes and into an Irish whip, Orton ducks the clothesline on the rebound and catches a charging Rusev with a dropkick to the knee that sends him tumbling out to the apron. Orton grabs Rusev through the ropes and hits the elevated DDT, then slams the canvas with his fists. Rusev turns right into an RKO, but switches as Orton is in mid-air into a huge bear hug. Lana is very happy about the counter. Orton struggles against the Bulgarian's grip but can't seem to get out, he reaches back to try to fight his way free but can't get any decent shots it. Eventually Orton starts to fade, his knees buckle and Rusev drops him to the mat, switching his hold into the accolade. Orton gets his breath back only to find himself in excrutiating pain, no choice but to submit.
- Winner: Alexander Rusev
Rusev keeps the hold locked in for a few more seconds until the referee warns him about a decision reversal. Lana tells him to break it so the referee can raise his hand. Rusev pumps his fists in the air wildly while Orton can't believe what has happened.
Striker: Orton is distraught here!
JBL: He has every right to be! He's lost to an inferior athlete!
Striker: Rusev doesn't look inferior to me! He beat Orton clean here! Orton looks like he didn't even consider losing to be a possibility!
JBL: Nor should he. You can't go in there with that kind of thought in your mind. Maybe that's why you lost so much!
A video package plays of tonight's dark match. Apollo Crews and Tyler Breeze are just about to lock up when Kurt Angle storms the ring.
Striker: Well, in any case, we've had some big news tonight. Before we went on air tonight we were set for a first round match between Tyler Breeze and Apollo Crews when this happened.
Angle lays Breeze out with a lariat and delivers a couple of German suplexes to Crews, who rolls to the outside. Angle goes to work on Breeze, stomping the hell out of him.
Striker: This is where we joined the action. Kurt Angle out of nowhere involving himself in this match.
JBL: Kurt clearly unhappy about the way things went down last time, having his career stolen from him by John Morrison and Dario Cueto.
Striker: Angle certainly made a statement, and got the attention of Mr Cueto.
The video shows Cueto allowing Angle to join the world's most dangerous man tournament and promising a match with Morrison if Angle is able to win.
JBL: We don't even know how many men are in this dangerous man tournament, there's no telling what Angle will have to do!
Striker: All we know for sure is that Kurt Angle will be in action at Revolution 3 and he has to win if he's to keep his career alive.
JBL: And don't forget Matt, the man who defeated Kurt for the IFW championship, John Morrison, will be holding his championship celebration ceremony tonight!
Striker: Yeah. Can't wait for that...
Pseww! We're going all out with the pyro budget tonight as a red fireball hits the set and sparks off a few more explosions. Team 3D head out amid the smoke and clink their tag title belts together before heading down to the ring.
Striker: There they are, the most decorated tag team in professional wrestling history, the deadly Dudley Boyz.
JBL: I've been in wars with these guys myself. It feels like a lifetime ago but they still look to be as good as they ever were.
Striker: This match came about after Shelton Benjamin defeated Devon Dudley at Revolution 1, however this rivalry goes back a little further as it was Team 3D who ended the record breaking tag title reign set by the World's Greatest Tag Team.
JBL: Charlie Haas has retired, but it looks as though Shelton Benjamin has found himself a very capable replacement.
By now Shelton is out on the stage and gestures to the back for his partner to come and join him. James Storm saunters out drinking a beer, offering another to Shelton who turns it down. What a professional.
Match 4 - Tag championship: Team 3D v Shelton Benjamin & James Storm:
IFW tag team championship
- Ok, not going to write too much for this one, this show is late enough as it is. You know the guys, you can guess how this match goes. Shelton kicks things off like a wildman, throwing fools all over the place as if they're not 300lbs, but soon gets cut off and the tag game favours the Dudleyz. They keep Shelton grounded and get the heat on him with quick tags and powerful brawling. Shelton is held back from making the tag a couple of times including one where the illegal Devon pulls Storm off the apron and slams him into the steps. Eventually Benjamin hits the dragon whip to buy himself enough space to lunge into the tag to Storm, who is now out for some revenge. Storm is all fired up and has the Dudleyz reeling after a quick barrage of offence, knocking Bubba off the apron with the last call superkick and then stalking Devon for the eye of the storm. Devon slips behind and rolls to the outside next to Bubba, both dazed. Shelton explodes into the ring, hitting the far ropes and leaping clean over Storm and the ropes to take Team 3D out with a tope con hilo.
Benjamin throws Devon back into the ring for Storm to finish off, but Bubba nails him with a low blow. This distracts Storm who Devon hits from behind, sending him into the ropes where Bubba cracks him with his own beer bottle. Devon whips Storm to the far ropes and Bubba rolls back in just in time to hit the 3D.
- Winners, and still IFW tag team champions: Team 3D
JBL: That's how a real tag team operates! Team 3D showing why they're the greatest of all time!
Striker: They say turnabout is fair play, and while I question that sentiment I don't believe James Storm has a leg to stand on if he is to complain about the beer bottle here.
JBL: Bottle or no bottle, the Dudleyz walk out of here as they have for over 20 years, as champions!
We take a quick break to recap the men going through to the second round of the world's most dangerous man tournament so far; Mistico, Mil Muertes, Seth Rollins, Shelton Benjamin, Paul Wight, Bobby Lashley and Alexander Rusev.
When we come back, a mariachi band is playing upbeat music and there are a few streamers and balloons around the arena. It's time for the victory celebration of our new IFW champion! John Morrison heads out to the stage with his title belt under an expensive looking jacket, flicking his hair in slow motion before heading down to the ring.
Melissa: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your new IFW champion, the Shaman of Sexy, John Morrison!
Morrison takes a microphone, kicks a stray balloon up into the air and swats it with his hand.
Morrison: Before I get to the celebration, I have an apology to make. Roll the footage.
We see a clip from last week as Morrison goes back on his word never to cash in his Money In The Bank contract on Kurt Angle. He hits Angle with the moonlight drive and pins him.
Morrison: As you can see, I did something I never thought I would do. I understand why some of you might think I was wrong to do that, and to you...I apologise. It was a tough decision, but after all this time I saw no alternative. But I'm sorry. I robbed Kurt Angle, and I robbed all of you.
Striker: What?
JBL: I wasn't expecting such-
Morrison: ...of the privilege of gazing apon these abs of steel.
Striker: Oh.
JBL: Ok, there we go.
Morrison: I'm sorry to each and every one of you who slave all month at your pathetic, dead-end jobs to scrape up enough money to buy a ticket to see me, and now you don't even get to see the goods, because they're hidden behind this glorious, glistening, gleaming championship belt. I understand how upset you all got, crying to me on Twitter, asking me why. Asking me how I could betray you all. The answer is simple, I betrayed nobody. I've never pretended to be your hero, I've never pretended to care about anyone or anything but myself, my LA woman, and my Money In The Bank briefcase.
That's as far as Morrison can get, as the Godzilla roar echoes through the temple and Samoa Joe stomps down the ramp. He steps through the ropes and gets into Morrison's face. The new champion doesn't back down, trading some words with the intruder.
Morrison: Ok, we have ourselves a party crasher. I'm sorry Joe, you're a little early, they haven't brought the cake out yet.
Joe: You shut your mouth and listen. Last week you crossed a line and I will be dealing with you, but you weren't the real story. It doesn't take a genius to tell that something isn't right around here, the way Kurt was talking just wasn't like him. You see, I've fought with and against Kurt for ten years, drove across every inch of this country with him and I know there is nobody in this business with more passion than him. Kurt Angle doesn't quit.
Morrison: Blah blah blah. I'm sure this story is fascinating Joe, but now isn't the time. If you hadn't noticed, this is my championship celebration so actually I am the real story. Now if you don't mind...
Joe: I told you to shut your mouth John. You see, I've done some digging, and I don't know all the details just yet but I know that Dario Cueto has been trying to push Kurt Angle out of IFW. You see, Cueto has his favourites and Kurt Angle was never supposed to leave this ring last week with that belt.
Morrison: If you're saying I'm working with Cueto, you're wrong.
Joe: No John, I'm not saying that. I'm saying that you got yourself mixed up in something that you don't want to be mixed up in, John.
Morrison: Look, I don't have time for conspiracy theories right now Joe, I'm trying to say a few words about my victory. You go on your little crusade against Dario on your own time, I have my own business to take care of. Championship business.
Joe: That's where you're wrong, John. You see, my business and your business are a lot closer than you think.
Morrison: Ok, go ahead. Tell me why I should care why Dario Cueto wants Kurt Angle out of IFW?
Joe: That's why I told you to listen, John. I told you, Cueto has his favourites. If you didn't take that belt from Kurt, what do you think would have happened? You weren't supposed to get involved, John. And what do you think Cueto's going to do once Kurt is out of the way? He's coming after you.
Morrison: The way I see it, he should be thanking me for doing his job for him. He wanted Kurt out, well I took him out.
Joe: Yes you did, and that's why I'm out here. You see, you're holding something that doesn't belong to you and I don't intend to let you hold on to it. If you'd just kept your word and held onto that contract I'd be out here with someone else right now, but instead you made yourself my business. I don't know who Cueto was setting up to be standing where you are, but I don't care. I'm going to take that belt back in Kurt's name, then Cueto's boy will have me to deal with.
Morrison: Is that a challenge, Joe? Am I supposed to feel threatened?
Joe: You feel however you want to feel, John. I'm just telling you not to get too comfortable.
Joe throws his mic down and turns to leave. Morrison takes a second to reflect on everything, then decides the right course of action is to attack Joe from behind, laying him out with a belt shot to the back of the head. With his celebration ruined, Morrison closes the show by standing over his fallen adversary and holding the IFW championship belt high over his head.