TSC TUESDAY NIGHT WRESTLING #32
09 NOVEMBER 2004

Quinton May. Alias. Two men who knew each other quite well.

They've never been the best of friends, despite being in ACW together for almost two years, and both men also plying their trade in tSC. Tonight, the two men would go to war. And it appears as if Quinton has the case of the jealousy for Alias's success. May feels Alias is overhyped, and doesn't like the Original Pulp Hero. Alias, on the other hand, is coming off a hellacious feud with Brandon Youngblood, and is quite stunned at May's true feelings about him.

"Make A Move" by Lostprophets began blaring over the speakers. 17 seconds into the song, the lights in the arena were cut. Cue the excitement from a major section of the fans. 32 seconds into the song, red and white pyrotechnics lit up the arena.

KA - BOOOOM!

And there he was, brushing past the curtains. Quinton May, hicks and shemales. In living colour. Subdued, though, from the loss to Santos Salvatore at SINNERS & SAINTS and from a whole lot of mess going down in ACW. There was more than meets the eye to that defeat to Santos, every TSC fan knew. But, Quinton wasn't telling anybody anything. Not Bruno, not Linda.

Storming down the catwalk, Quincy played out several strategies in his head, as Li Mu Bai and Mark Shields engaged in an arguement. Shields thought Bai looked gay, and Li obviously did not agree. Whatever; Li would have the reign of the action inside the ring for this one, and that made Shields mad. That idiot.

Speaking of ring, Quinton rolled into the ring -- wearing only a pair of dark blue jeans and black boots -- and swiftly picked his spot in the corner of the ring, exchanging momentary glances with the crowd as he did so. Quinton wasn't in the best of moods tonight, and the match against Alias? An outlet to unleash his frustrations.

Also, Quinton wouldn't mind snapping out of a winless streak he now found himself in. The month of October had not been kind for the Canadian Gladiator, and he was hoping November would herald the winds of change. Not the tag team, ya idiot.

Anyways... Jagger? You ready?

Bongos, check. BLONGitron coming to life with a plethora of names, check. 'WHAT'S YOUR ALIAS' flashing on the screen, check.

Many a female fan (ugly ones) proclaiming their love for Pulp, check. Alrighty, then.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! No, that wasn't me getting jiggy on the dance floor. Pyrotechnics, as "Sympathy for the Devil" by the Rolling Stones started to play. ALIAS brushed past the ripped curtains and stood there on the stage for a while, soaking in a raucous reception.

Quinton seethed in the ring, and his anger grew with each step Alias took down the catwalk. The man was already heading into next week with a shot at Sonny Silver for the Championship. Rematch, baby. A deserved one at that, considering the circumstances which surrounded his controversial title loss. Mark Shields giggled like a school girl (not THE), remembering CLASH. Alias? Frowned at the sight of Shields.

Tonight, though, Alias had to focus. Quinton was a wounded animal with a masked agenda, and Sheffield had to be cautious. He'd already been broken down comprehensively by Youngblood over the last couple of months, and now had to find a way to redevelop himself into the force he once was.

As the man adored by many and known to all as the Original Pulp Hero stepped through the ropes, however, Quinton May wasted no time at all. He was getting bloody irritated with the massive ovation Alias was garnering, and the Canadian Gladiator could stands it no more.

So, yeah, May charged at Alias and tackled him to the canvas with a double-leg takedown, prompting Li Mu Bai -- who was distracted with Mark Shields sticking TWO ciggies in his mouth on the outside -- to quickly call for the bell (* DING DING DING *) and officially raise the curtain in this KOS Preliminary match-up. Bloody fantastic, innit? Yes, indeedy.

What was also fantastic, if you were a Quinton fan although you'd have to be insane if you were, was the aforementioned rabidly punching away at Alias. Like, ya know, Quincy's life depended on it. Crowd? Oh, they were mixed about it. On one hand, they loved Quincy quite a bit.

On the other hand, they fucking LOVED Alias a hell of a lot more. Probably why half of them jeered loudly as Quinton peeled himself off of the beleaguered former Champion and kicked him right in the balls. Ooooh, the fans absolutely did not like that. If there was a lynch mob nearby? Quinton = ded.

As it was, Li Mu Bai simply docked a rope-break from the Canadian Gladiator. May didn't care; though he probably should, what with this being a Submissions Match and all. And, hey, Alias? Pretty damn proficient with those submissions. Remember how he made Coral Avalon tap at the UNPROVOKED PPV, to retain the title? Yeah.

Well, anyhow, back to the intense action. Quinton grabbed Alias's right leg and started kicking away at that right knee. One that has always bothered Sheffield over the years. Alias himself has tried to shield the fact that he has a bummed right knee, but looked like Quincy Mama did his homework, eh? He was mercilessly stomping away at that knee, growling as he did so. May was... a man possessed.

With the crowd's dissent at how Quinton was starting this match off growing, the Rising Star decided to cease the stomping. Only to shoot himself into the ropes, and connect with a jumping knee-drop right down onto Sheffield's weak link. Alias yelled out in frustration and smashed his clenched fists down onto the canvas, already feeling the burn.

It wasn't about to stop. Reaching down and pulling Alias up by that spikey hair of his, Quinton drove a hard knee into the also-suspect ribs of his ACW counterpart, prior to unleashing his patented knife-edged chops o' doom. Think that ol' Sheffield will like this? My bet's on... FUCK NO.

CHOP!
WHOOOO~!

Yeah, although half the crowd were jeering Quincy because they were hardcore Alias fans, the other half were definitely backing the man from Windsor, Ontario. CANADA. Two camps of staunch fans, raising their voices without a care in the world.

The atmosphere was immensely electrifying and off the hook... bitch.

CHOP!
WHOOOO~!

CHOP!
WHOOOO~!

CHOP!
WHOOOO~!

Four chops. Count 'em. Because that would be all. For as May reared his right hand back for a fifth successive chop, Alias (chest turning a bright shade of red and all) had enough to counter with a snap pump kick to Quinton's ribs. Came out of nowhere, that one. Alias followed up by a forearm smash -- WHOOOSH! Yes, you read correctly; Quincy Mama ducked underneath the forearm smash attempted, which wasn't too hard considering he was already doubled over from the kick.

And as Sheffield turned around, Quinton once more caught him in the ribs with a hard knee-lift. It was Alias's turn to double over, but not for long. The Castaway took Alias down with a quick snapmare takedown, before shooting himself into the ropes and connecting with a vile running dropkick to the back of Christopher's head.

If this was a normal match, Quincy would have gone for the pin, judging by how Alias was laid out on the canvas. But, too bad, this puppy could only be dusted off via submission. So, with Li Mu Bai watching on, the Canadian Gladiator kipped to his feet and stomped away at the right knee of Christopher's a couple more times, just for good measure. And strategy. Duh.

Following which, Quinton dragged Alias back up and stunned the former tSC Champion with a powerful forearm smash. Alias was reeling badly here, and could not do anything when May whipped him into one of the four corners of the ring. Alias DID manage to get a foot in the face of the Castaway as the latter charged toward the corner, hoping to hit a running clothesline or something. Fuck knows.

Staggering back, Quincy was easy pickings for a vicious clothesline, as Alias simply exploded out of the corner. Trouble was, when Quinton hit the canvas... so did Christopher. His right knee sorta gave out. Not completely, but enough for Alias to realise that very early on in this match, he was already in trouble. He had to play it smart now.

Rising back to his vertical base, Alias turned around and decked the recovering Quincy Mama once more with a STIFF AS FOCK forearm smash. May was not deterred, and quickly rushed back to his feet, parrying a measured snap roundhouse kick aimed at the Canadian's upper left-arm area. Christopher too had done his homework. But like I said, Quinton parried it and retaliated with a sidekick into Alias's ribs.

Now, with Alias firmly halted in his tracks, May shot himself into the ropes once more, having the intention of knocking Alias down with a clothesline or something. The Original Pulp Hero ducked it, though, and thoroughly rattled the former ACW Television Champ with a knife-edged chop of his own. Quinton flinched a little, biting down on his lower lip as he did so.

It was all Alias needed. Christopher took control of Quinton's left arm and wringed it good, before taking the latter down with an over-the-shoulder armdrag (ipponzei for you technical-lovin' freaks). May crashed down to the canvas, already feeling the strain in his left arm and shoulder. Think Alias was going to further aggravate the old injury of Quincy's?

FUCK YEAH. What, you thought Christopher Declan Sheffield was an idiot? Nuh uh.

Holding on to Quinton's left arm, Alias started slamming his foot down onto the shoulder of May, stopping after a while to drop a snap legdrop down onto the shoulder. 'ALIAS! ALIAS' chants rung out through the arena, and the Original Pulp Hero grinned slightly as he got back to his feet and resumed the decimating stomping of the left shoulder of his opponent.

That lasted all of one minute, with Bai growing increasingly worried that May's left shoulder had already been broken into a million pieces. Alias almost didn't stop, with his legion of Pulpamaniacs egging him on. Surprisingly, Sheffield was getting his share of jeering, too. The other half of the crowd, of course. Quincy's devout fans.

Alias? Didn't care much about them. When he stepped into the ring, Alias made a note to turn off his emotion chip. That had been the case for a damn long time, and Sheffield wasn't about to start caring now. Not when Quinton had some insane personal vendetta against him.

Pulling Quincy up, Alias wringed that left arm of May's again, putting the latter in a position to get bamboozled by a series of elbow strikes down onto the upper left-arm area. Quinton grimaced with every blow, but as the pain began to become searing, Quinton lashed out with a quick knee-lift into the ribs of Alias. Yet again, it was a calculated strike from the Canadian Gladiator, halting Alias's newly built-up momentum.

The vice grip of Sheffield on his left arm broken, Quinton spun around and planted Alias with a discus short-range clothesline. An ode to AJ Styles? Perhaps, perhaps. Alias was down... but not for long, immediately climbing back up to his feet. Quinton was waiting, bouncing off the ropes and taking flight. Yep, time for the high-leg clothesline. Yay?

Nay. Alias was alert enough and lowered his head at just the right time. Quinton landed on his feet, stumbling forward a bit but otherwise nicely balancing himself. Turning around, though, was not a good idea. Alias was ready, and let loose.

Headbutt to the nose. OW. Knee-lift to the ribs, paying May back for the several that the latter inflicted on the former tSC Champion. That, too, garnered an OW. And to finish off? Elbow strike to the top of the head, knocking Quinton down to the canvas in awesome style.

CLICK, CLICK, BOOM! Not of the Saliva varient, but of the Original Pulp Hero's one. Annnd, the 'ALIAS! ALIAS' chants? Holy momma, they were getting louder and louder with each passing second.

Stumbling backward a bit, due to his right knee again tightening up on him, Alias realised that he had a potentially great chance to lock in his Sharpshooter-esque submission, WAKE THE DEVIL. But, see, Alias had not yet worked on May's legs, and it would probably not be enough to snatch the win. Not on Quinton, who was pretty nifty with his submissions as well, and improving by the day.

Frowning slightly (partially due to Mark Shields smoking like there was no tomorrow on the outside; t'was distracting!), Alias decided to sprint forward, and dropped an elbow down onto May's left shoulder. Yep, back to the left arm for Alias.

Only for a second, though, as Alias pulled Quincy up and after another STIFF AS FOCK forearm smash, the Original Pulp Hero whipped the M15 Survivor into one of the corner turnbuckles. With authoritay.

That meant, the invoking of the whiplash effect. And as Quinton staggered back into Sheffield's path, Alias was quick to make with the educated rising kick to the side of the ribs, in typical Muay Thai fashion. Quinton doubled over, allowing the former Tin Angel to drive Quinton to the canvas in a terrific snap suplex. Swirling his hips, Alias got back to his feet, front facelock still in place.

Which could only mean, snap suplex REDUX. Not likely. No, Alias was going to make sure he really hurt the spine of Quinton, as was needed for his primary submission finisher. So, when Sheffield lifted Quincy up... the former left the latter hanging there for a couple seconds, before finally dropping him down to the mat, expelling all the air out of the Castaway.

Floating over nicely, Alias pressed his right knee down on Quinton's left shoulder, pinning it down to the canvas. With the Canadian Gladiator essentially trapped, Christopher took his chances, and fired away with his patented forearm smashes. Stiff as... yes, FOCK. The fans were loving it.

Despite his face being hammered by Alias's left forearm, Quincy Mama was able to lift his right leg up and quite savagely smacked it against the back of Christopher's head. Bai himself winced at that bit of brutality from the Canadian, who swiftly pushed Alias off of him now that his shoulder wasn't being pinned to the canvas forcefully anymore. Still, OWWIE.

Didn't matter for Quinton. He fought through the pain, and he too rolled over, scrambling up to his feet quickly, and with a 'FUCK YOU' to Sheffield, took control of Alias's legs. Sheffield? He had reason to panic. And howl, as Quinton once again stomped down on his busted right knee. That was merely a prelude.

To what, you ask? Only one outcome, in a situation like this, with the stakes the way they were and the rules as such. HAIL TO THE KING was what it was; Alias had his WAKE THE DEVIL, Quincy Mama had his own version. Some say slightly deadlier, although the Canadian hadn't had many a chance to pull this one out.

But it *did* beat Jesse Ramey a few weeks ago. Which was, incidentally, May's last victory in tSC before the whole winless streak commenced. Hmmm, did it mean that Christopher Sheffield would go ahead and tap out, thereby gifting Quincy Mama the victory and advancement? EH, we'll see.

First, though, two words from one half of the crowd. Can you guess?

"QUINCY MAMA!"

"QUINCY MAMA!"

"QUINCY MAMA!"

The other half tried to valiantly out-chant the Mama-maniacs, but to no avail. Quinton's legion were in full force now, as the man himself wrenched back on Alias's legs.

May was definitely wasting no time in trying to secure the win, and having already worked over the legs of Sheffield quite a bit, was confident that even if Alias didn't tap out, there would be enough to follow through on.

As it was, Alias WAS one tough-willed motherfucker. No way he was going to tap. He had already been to the sixth level of Hades with Brandon Youngblood, in the Bo7. Not a chance on this fair planet that he was going to give up so easily. Fighting through the pain by gritting his teeth, Alias began to crawl towards the ropes.

It helped that he had a weight advantage over Quinton, but Alias had to admit; May was holding on for dear life. Milking the submission for all it was worth. Li Mu Bai was right down there, alongside Christopher, asking the former Champeen if he had any desire to tap out.

Mark Shields, bored on the outside, decided to chip in. "Tap out, you miserable Pulp-fucker!"

Alas, Alias had gotten to the ropes. Had his long arms to thank him for that, and Bai immediately jumped to his feet to tell Quincy Mama to let go of the hold. May? He shook his head.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

"TH'EE!"

"FOU'~!"

Aaaand, not wanting to lose another rope-break, May opted to relinquish the hold.

Grinning as he did so, for Alias too was now down to two rope-breaks. Plus, the legs? Not exactly in the best shape right about now. Using the ropes, Alias struggled to his feet, already exhausted. Not a new feeling for him, especially over the last couple of weeks. Quincy Mama, on the other hand, didn't look like a man who was affected by his loss at S&S. Odd, eh?

Just an hour or so prior, he was a lifeless shell. Now, Quincy was on fire. And evidence of that was clear, when Quinton -- who had backed away from his ACW counterpart -- ran at Alias, taking the big man down with a chop block to the back of both the knees. Tiiiiimber, bastards.

Christopher Declan Sheffield, now flat on his back again, blinked as he found himself being dragged (by his legs), towards the corner turnbuckle. Yes, having cleverly taken his bigger opponent down, Quincy rolled out of the ring and figured he'd introduce Alias to the steel ring-post. Bai immediately started to protest this sudden turn of events, but May wasn't listening. He was hell-bent on claiming the victory here, at any costs.

And if it meant breaking Alias's right knee once and for all? Hey, May was not going to lose any sleep over it. With an interested chuckle from Mark Shields -- who was now actually observing the match -- May slammed the back of Alias's right knee right into the ring-post, inciting a riot in the stands. Okay, maybe not, but the crowd were really effin' loud now.

So, what did Quincy do? Thank you for asking, he opted to inflict some damage on the back of Alias's left knee, but eventually went back to repeat the action on Sheffield's right knee. Nobody knew who got the worst of that exchange; the knees or the poor ring-post.

JT and Greg knew for a fact who would feel the full brunt of this next one, though; thinking quickly and remembering what another Canadian would do in this situation, Quinton May wrapped Alias's legs around the ring-post, and with a middle finger directed at Li Mu Bai who was still demanding that the Rising Star cease his shenanigans, he went for it. Oh, yeah.

RING-POST FIGURE FOUR! HOLY SHIAAAAAT.

Alias screamed for possibly the first time in his life. The pain? Bloody excruciating. The one and only Bret Hart perfected this move, and it appeared as if the new Canadian hero (ahem) had it mastered as well. Mark Shields was in total awe. Ha, NOT. He simply yawned and laid down on the ground, electing to take a nap.

Know who weren't sleeping? The OPH fans. They hissed and cursed at what was transpiring before their very eyes. Quinton continued to wrench as far back as possible, with Bai now threatening to physically break the deadly hold himself. Y'know, since he really couldn't disqualify Quinton. Also, Li didn't want to have to disqualify May, in the spirit of the match.

"QUINCY MAMA!"

"QUINCY MAMA!"

"QUINCY MAMA!"

All ze Mama-maniacs, in the meantime, were vehemently chanting for their favourite hero. Even when Quinton relinquished the submission, realising that even while in a world of pain, Alias was not tapping out. Would it even count, though, with May having applied the 'submission' on the outside? We wouldn't find out tonight.

Climbing back to his feet, Quinton took a long look at the fans in the front rows, sneering at those were 'WHAT'S YOUR ALIAS' t-shirts. Returning his gaze to his opponent, May found Alias trying to crawl away from the corner, so the Canadian Gladiator reached out for Sheffield's legs... dragging him back towards the ring-post. More mayhem was in store, I'd wager.

Sheffield, though, had a trump card up his sleeve. Okay, he wasn't wearing a shirt, but... errr, shut up. Anywho, as stated, Alias had a plan.

And that plan was already in effect, lulling Quincy Mama into a false sense of security by letting his legs go limp. Quinton looked over his shoulder and jawed with an Alias fan, who was pouting at May. Alias noticed this, and sprung into action, drawing his legs back towards him. In the process? Quinton's face tasted the ring post.

Ahhh, payback's a bitch. Quincy Mama fell to the ground, with Mark Shields pointing and laughing at the Canadian Gladiator. Alias propped himself up against the ropes after a bit of a struggle to even get to a vertical base, but valiantly stepped through the ropes, ready to go back to work.

Now perched on the ring apron, Alias -- despite the pleas of Li Mu Bai -- raised his right arm in the air. Not for his fans, no. This was Alias:Disassembled and he was looking to regain the intensity and focus that made him the Spirit of 2004. To do that, Christopher had to forget the fans were there.

In his mind, only Quinton and himself were present. And with Quincy slowly getting back up, Alias leapt off the apron, aiming to score with an elbow strike to the face. May, however, saw it coming as he turned around and did something cool.

He... uuhhh, sidestepped Alias and dug his knee into the latter's ribs? Yeah, that's the shit. Not cool enough for you? Fuck off, then. Quinton quickly tried to follow up with what appeared to be a russian leg-sweep; surely, Quincy was looking to have Alias's head bounce off the edge of the apron.

Didn't happen, though. Sheffield swung his left arm across and punched May in the face. It wasn't pretty, but it was effective. The Castaway staggered back a bit and Alias dropped to his feet, catching his breath.

Oooor, he was plotting. Y'know, I think it was the latter. Of course, I say that AFTER Alias lays Quinton out with a pop-up spinebuster once the Canadian Gladiator decided to stop staggering around like a drunk motherfucker. The OPH fans? Oh, how they loved that.

They especially loved how Alias followed it up. You wish to know how? CLANGGGG. Not clear enough? Bollocks. Well, Sheffield simply wrapped his hands around Quinton's legs and catapaulted him over his own body, directly into the steel steps behind him and a couple of feet away from Mark Shields.

Who now had the spatter of blood all over his face. Quinton's blood. "Awww, shit. I've got the homo's blood all over me. Fuckin' hell, Alias, you're going to pay for my sponge bath!"

Mark is a sick, sick man. And quite possibly dead, considering that Alias glared at him as he got up. What, you think the Original Pulp Hero forgot about CLASH? Shields gulped and scampered away like a little child, proving that he really is just a pussy deep down. Funny.

Back to the match, hmmm? Quinton, now busted open courtesy of a laceration right above the brigde of his nose, pulled himself up and went 'oh shit' at the realisation that he was bloodied. Again. Seriously, dude blades too damn much. Oh well, whatever draws in the ratings, ahem. Quinton had little time to himself, though, for Alias spun May around, and...

... whipped him into the guard-railings, with extreme authority. Whiplash effect? Invoked, and Quincy Mama stumbled right back towards Christopher Sheffield. And when Alias is on a roll, he doesn't make mistakes. He also doesn't spare people from his special swinging neckbreaker, right there on the thinly-protected ground.

For a match that could only be won by submission, it sure was getting ugly, eh?

Thankfully for Bai, Alias had about enough of brawling on the outside, and dragged himself & May up onto the apron. Quinton, with blood trickling down his face, was understandably out of it. Alias was now a man ready to pounce, and by any means possible. His war with Brandon Youngblood reminded Christopher that there was no room -- AT ALL -- to make mistakes inside the squared circle.

Stepping through the ropes and back into the ring, Alias suddenly hesitated. Turning to face the groggy Quincy Mama, the Original Pulp Hero had an idea form in his head. And within seconds, the former Champion brought Quincy into the ring; via a suplex, with May still stationed on the apron when he was lifted up in the air.

Some brownie points for Alias there, executing a smart move. Quinton bounced off the canvas due to the impact, and actually ended up face-first on the canvas. Poor bastard. Being a lightweight fucker never does you any favours. Especially against a man who knows how to use a silencer.

My bad. I meant, THE SILENCER. As in, Boswic's (of 21w fame -- I miss that joint) patented full-nelson camel clutch finisher. Yeah, Alias was quite proficient with the move himself, and had no problem slapping it on. The man wanted to win and build on his Dodgeball victory earlier on. King of Submissions 2004 and two-time tSC Champion?

It was music to Christopher's ears. Trouble was, Quinton wasn't going to give up. Not that he'd never submitted, but against Alias, May was especially adamant about tapping out. So when Bai asked Quinton if he wanted to give up, you know how the Canadian responded.

"FUCK YOU, CROUCHING SLANTY-EYED COCKLESS BITCH!" May screamed in between howls of agony. Oh ho ho, the network were going to sue... wait, Harvard Avalon's not in power anymore. YAY! Sonny Silver is. DOUBLE YAY, SONNY IS GOING TO GET SUED AND GO TO JAIL FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE. WHOOOOO!

While that day comes, let's focus on the story here. Which was, if you're just tuning in, Quinton being trapped in the clutches of the Silencer being applied by Alias, but not wanting to tap out. The Mama-maniacs in attendances rallied around their hero, trying to spur him on. And it appeared to work, for Quinton started inching toward the ropes.

Bai, watching all of this with his slanty eyes, glanced at Alias, noticing how the former Champion was holding on to Quincy Mama for dear life. Alias's legs had taken an absolute beating throughout the course of the match so far, and thus, Quinton tapping out now would be just dandy for him. Absolutely.

Shucks about May getting to the ropes, then, huh? The voice of his adoring fans proved to be the decisive factor there, and while he was down to only one rope-break now (as astutely pointed by Bai minus the Rs), Quinton felt good. About still being in the match, not about the searing pain that was paralysing him.

Alias released the hold after deciding to milk it, and made with the rapid-fired shots to the lower spinal area of Quincy Mama. Stopping for a while, Alias dragged May away from the ropes and stomped down on the kidneys of the Canadian Gladiator, prior to crouching down and wrapping his arms around Quinton's throat in a particular manner.

Chicken-wing crossface, baby. Alias pulled Quincy up and tightened the hold, drawing anticipated cheers from his legion of fans! Now, the two men were back in the middle of the ring, and the Castaway was once again in trouble. It was going to be much harder to reach the ropes this time.

"Not... gonna beat me... this way, Sheffield!" Quinton grumbled with his blood circulation being cut off, prior to shifting his weight to the side; a move that came right after a reverse downward elbow strike to Alias's ribs. Smart move, Quincy.

So, with Alias momentarily stunned, Quinton drilled the former dual champion (of ACW and tSC) with a punishing belly-to-back suplex, grounding the Original Pulp Hero! Bai stood over both men, the deafening cheers from both sets of fans really scaring him just a little. Made for a fantastic atmosphere, though.

It didn't take long for somebody to start moving, and that somebody was Quinton. He may have had been trapped in the Silencer and the chicken-wing crossface, in addition to getting busted open after meeting the steel steps for some coffee, but the Canadian Gladiator was a pugnacious motherfucker with tons of resilence. He thrived in situations like these.

Now, with Alias out cold on the canvas, Quinton dragged himself to one of the four corner turnbuckles, and slowly ascended to the top. Perhaps the man was going up there to check out the chicks in attendance? Na, he was quite possibly going for his SERAPHIC CESSATION, as an attempt to further wear Alias down.

Pity, however, that he took too long to get settled at the top. For once that happened, Alias -- who had started rolling around in a bid to regain his bearings -- jumped to his feet and lunged at the ropes. What good did that do, you ask me?

Got May to be straddled on the top turnbuckle. Last-ditch tactic by Alias, and it actually earned him some faint jeers. Christopher ignored it and as fast as he could, climbed up the turnbuckle, wrapping his arms around the wounded Quincy Mama once he reached the top.

Only three words could describe what happened next --

-- BIG FAT KILL!

"HOLY SHIT!"

"HOLY SHIT!"

"HOLY SHIT!"

Quinton May? Roadkill. Alias? Tired as fuck, but certain know that he had a supreme chance to go ahead and claim victory. Mark Shields? He wet his pants on the outside. Li Mu Bai? He was rubbing his eyes.

He couldn't believe what he had just seen. Alias peeled himself off the canvas and staggered over to May's legs, spreading them apart and kicking away at the inside of Quincy's right thigh for a while. After which, Alias went ahead and did it. He did something truly badass. Alias didn't have a choice, though; he simply had to WAKE THE DEVIL, motherfuckers!!!11

... Damn keyboard, ahem. There was just two tiiiiiny problems staring at Alias in the face. One, he hadn't really done much in the way of working over Quinton's legs and so, the dazed Canadian Gladiator was still able to use whatever strength he had to crawl towards the ropes.

Two, the ropes were very close by, and it was only a matter of nine seconds before Bai was instructing Alias to break the hold. Lucky for Quinton, but now, the Castaway had absolutely NO rope-breaks left. None. Natta. Zilch would be the word.

Relinquishing the hold, Christopher Sheffield turned around and figured he'd returned to targetting the back of Quinton, which was evident by the educated kicks down onto the Canadian's spine. Shot after shot rained down on defenseless Quincy, and Alias was keeping up the pressure by crouching down and lifting May up & over his own head in a release german suplex.

Yes, it was as delicious as it sounded. May's head bounced off the canvas sickeningly, and Alias simply chuckled at the sight of a man he considered a friend having trouble getting it together.

The last few minutes? All-out offense from the Pulp Hero. Alias wasn't going to let up, too. He pulled Quinton up by tugging at the hair and after a singular European uppercut that knocked May a step or two, Alias forcefully sent May packing into the corner turnbuckle via an Irish whip.

Quinton's spine torqued backwards as he staggered out of the corner, due to the laws of physics. Alias waiting and kicked his ACW counterpart in the ribs. May doubled over, which was satisfactory enough for Alias to go for a gutwrench suplex. Oh, wait, DENIED. Quincy saved himself from further punishment by kicking out at Sheffield's right knee.

Following which, the two-time ACW Television Champ struck with a sneaky side Russian leg-sweep, turning the tables in a matter of six seconds. That's perfection for ya, ladies and gentlemen. Didn't prove to do much good with both himself and Alias laid out on the canvas, however.

Truth be told? Both men were totally spent. A nine-day break of action between S&S and now -- in terms of tSC, at least; both men still had committments to ACdub -- didn't mean anything, because both were evenly matched in this contest thus far. It would have to take something inhumane to determine a winner here, I reckon.

Anyways, after close to a minute of motionless-ness, Li and the rest of the world celebrated when BOTH men picked themselves up. Tired, they may have been... but you sure as hell couldn't arrive at that conclusion when they turned around and started to slug away at each other.

Alias, Quinton. Alias, Quinton. Alias, Quinton. Quinton. Quinton. Quinton. What am I doing? Describing how the slugfest was unfolding, you dumn Dutch bastard. Anyways, May was looking for his fourth unanswered hook to the face, but the Original Pulp Hero pulled himself back in the game and blocked the punch, which preceded a kick to the ribs.

And, THAT preceded a TIGER CRUSH! The OPH fans did a little jig that would have made Leigh Landers proud, because she's a crazy biatch who likes to shake her fiiiine booty. May, meanwhile, collapsed down to the canvas, comprehensively outmuscled on that exchange.

Christopher Sheffield, though, wasn't about to allow May the luxury of resting. He dragged Quinton right up and attempted to whip him into the ropes. Attempted, because Quincy stood his ground and yanked Alias towards him. CROSSFACE SUBMISSION!

Oh, denied. Alias drove his left knee into Quinton's ribs, saving himself. Possibly wouldn't have mattered, as Quinton hadn't done a lick of dedicated damage to Sheffield's arm. Alias now wringed Quincy's left arm, which HAD been targetted earlier on. Know what's a good counter to impending attacks, though?

Rake of the eyes. And speaking of eyes, I hear an eye of the storm is a safe place to be? Not if by 'eye of the storm', you mean Quinton's other favoured submission finisher which he borrowed from the great Lance Storm? Oh, wait, I *do* mean his special EYE OF THE STORM! Absolutely incredible shiznit there.

Alias was in trouble, for his right knee was being viciously torn to shreds once more. His legion of fans rallied behind the Spirit of 2004, chanting his name as loudly as he could. Bai was at work once more, asking Sheffield if he wanted to tap out. Alias simply ignored Bai.

"AL - IAS!"
"AL - IAS!"

And reached out for the ropes. NOPE, Quinton knew he was too close to the ropes and dragged Sheffield away from 'em. Only a bit, though, since Alias was one big mofo and May was running on empty in the tank. The fact that half his face was bathed in blood also made it difficult for May.

The Original Pulp Hero perservered, however, and with one more push, dragged himself towards the ropes. Bai kept a watchful eye, ready to instruct Quincy Mama to release the hold.... and, yes! Alias had the ropes! Quinton cursed as Li got right in his face, calling for the relinquishing of Alias's leg. May did as he was told, but he wasn't happy.

Good news for May, was that Alias now only had one rope-break left. Quinton decided to ignore that little tidbit for the moment, as he resumed his atttack on Sheffield's right knee, stomping away savagely at it. Even to the extent of earning a STIZZOMP from a certain fan in the stands (hi Raz!).

Stopping suddenly, Quinton picked Alias up and chopped him across the chest, twice. OUCH, went Alias. May half-grinned, and drilled his opponent with a solid knee-breaker, like you see in that HERE COMES THE PAIN title for the PS2. Sony owns, by the way. Microsoft can suck my un-soft knobber.

Anywho, yes, Alias was limping around the ring in obvious pain, and had no clue whatsoever as to what was going to come next. Quinton did; he had to, as he snuck up on an unsuspecting Alias from behind and applied a full-nelson. Dum di dummm.

"Lights out, Sheffield. I win." Quincy whispered into Sheff's ears, smiling as he did so.

URBANE REPEALME -- NO EFFIN' WAY, MOTHERQUCKER! Alias countered with a devious mule kick and had his last rope-break docked. But, hey, do you think Alias gave a damn about that?

Na. He cared more about putting Quincy away at this juncture, and there was only one bloody path in sight for Christopher Sheffield. It involved a little thing we here at tSC liked to call PULPED, ya bitches.

Out of nowhere, Alias had laid Quinton May out with one of his big-time moves. And now, as the OPH fans went ballistic, Alias moved in for the kill. Two words.

ANARCHY'S LULLABY!

It was over, folks. As good as over, at least. Nobody could resist tapping out once trapped in this badboy, but hell, Quinton wasn't tapping out. He was in the middle of the ring, yes. His back was being ravaged, yes. He was out of rope-breaks, yes. All of that was true.

The Canadian Gladiator was not going to tap out, though. Not to Alias. Not when he'd poured his heart and soul into this match. So, Quincy kept on screaming and screaming, while blood continued to seep out of his nasty wound. Shades of WM 13?

Definitely. Li was rather sickened by the grizzly visual, but he calmed himself down, remembering that this was all part of his job. So, that's what Li did; he asked Quincy if he wanted to give up. Quinton refused, staunchly. Alias tightened his grip on Quinton, but the Rising Star still did not want to tap out.

He wasn't going to give up. Even if it killed him, May was not going to give Alias the satisfaction of gaining the victory via the Canadian tapping out. Wasn't going to happen.

"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"

The fans? They were trying their damndest to help Quinton out. The ones who liked the Canadian, that is. All the Alias fans were watching on with bated breath, while the Mama-maniacs kept on with the chanting.

All of a sudden, it wasn't of any use.

... Yes, Quinton May had passed out. Li Mu Bai frowned as he noticed how limp Quinton had gotten, and with no other choice, Bai turned to Shallow, waving his hands like a maniac. It was over.

Alias had won. "Sympathy for the Devil" by the Rolling Stones blasted over the speakers, and Alias released his grip on Quincy Mama. In the end, it took the Canadian passing out from the pain to award the victory to the Original Pulp Hero. Over the last two months, Alias had been involved in pure hell with Brandon Youngblood.

Now, he was back on track. Not letting Bai raise his arm, Alias simply limped out of the ring and glared at a snoozing Mark Shields en route to the back. The OPH fans? Celebrating. The Mama-maniacs? Disappointed, but proud nonetheless of Quincy.

May, who was still unconscious, was now being checked on by Li Mu Bai. On this night, the Rising Star had proven that he truly was someone who could take the best to the very edge and back. It just wasn't enough, though.

Not nearly. Too bad, because... second-best counts for nothing in tSC.