Nitro: Nov. 4th
The meeting of the WCW, WWF and Fringe teams to officially sign the WarGames contract for Survivor Series is at the center of Nitro, but one question remains as Nitro begins: who will the WWF send as their representatives? And, to settle their issues before they head into WarGames, Arn signs a tag match between Booker T & DDP against Big Show and Mike Awesome.
The evening gets off to a good start for WCW, with the O’Haire & Palumbo faction of the NBT squaring off, and defeating, the Fringe team of Jerry Lynn and Steven Richards. An attempted ambush by the Impact Players and Lita draw out Kronik and Molly Holly to drive off the Fringe contingent. The IP lead their friends back down the aisle, tail between their legs, until Bryan Clarke grabs the microphone and calls them out for cowards. Brian Adams concurs, and dares the IP to put the titles on the line next week, but the NTB intercede, declaring a rightful claim to a title shot as well. Arn comes out and puts forth a settlement: a 10-person elimination tag at Survivor Series, with Kronik, Molly and the NTB against the IP, Lita, Richards and Lynn, where, if Team WCW can defeat Team Fringe, The Impact Players will put up the WCW Tag Titles on the following night’s Nitro in a triple threat against both the NBT and Kronik.
Booker barges in on Arn as he is squaring away some final details before the contract signing. Arn tries to push off Booker for later until Booker tosses a ream of paper on the desk. Arn looks at it, then up at Booker. “What’s this?”
“Dat’s a contract,” Booker says. “For me to take this”â€â€ÂBooker drops the WCW Title on the desk‗to the Fringe. I ain’t signed it, cause I don’t wanna.”
Arn’s eyes narrow to slits; he crosses his arms and looks Booker in the eye. “So why are you giving this to me now?”
“Cause you need to know how serious I am about things. You willin’ to risk WCW … you willin’ to risk dat belt, the belt your buddy Ric has worn like 22 times … on the backs of me, and Page and that big lug Big Show … but you ain’t askin’ for nothing in return!”
“That isn’t what WCW is all about, Book‗
“Dat’s what war is all about, Arn! You wanna put dat much weight on me, make me and Page and Show fight for dis company … but you don’t espect dem to do the same?” Booker puts his hands on the desk and leans forward. “I don’t wanna fight for a compn’y dat don’t wanna fight for me … specially when you didn’t even ask us in WCW if we wanted ta gamble our lives.”
Arn is stoic in his posture, his face a chiseled mask of stone, betraying not a single emotion. “Why don’t you cut the crap, Booker, and just what it is you came to say?”
Now Booker’s eyes narrow, his lip snarling at the corner ever so slightly. “Either you get them suckas to put up their future like you did to us, or I grab me a pen and sign join up wit Team Fringe.”
Arn snorts. “So I’m supposed to bow to your blackmail threat? Booker says ‘jump’, and I’m supposed to say ‘how high?’ How does that make me look, Booker? In the eyes of the fans … in the eyes of Shane McMahon … in the eyes of the boys? How does it make me look if the WCW Commissioner bows to a blackmail threat from one of the boys who’s got his jock in a knot?”
Booker picks up the WCW Title, throws it over his shoulder, then grabs the contract, stuffs it in a pocket … and grabs a pen from Arn’s desktop. Booker tucks in it his pocket and says; “How do you think you looked to the boys when you put up WCW without asking dem, Arn?” Booker walks out of the office without another word, leaving Arn in quiet consternation.
A steel cage surrounds the ring for a by-request, non-title grudge match between Malenko and RVD. RVD enters the steel cage first, a preview for him of his role on Team Fringe in 13 days. Malenko steps through the door, looking at the unforgiving steel that surrounds them, an embodiment of the finality the match represents to their feud. Unlike the prior week, RVD is focused and, inside the steel cage, allowed to unleash his extreme style. Malenko, by contrast, has to adjust his highly technical style to keep up with RVD, especially when RVD uses the steel cage as a partner in battering down Malenko. But RVD gets greedy and tries a Five-Star Frog Splash off the top of the cage and comes up empty; Malenko, bleeding from his impacts with the steel, drags himself to his feet and begins the task of finishing off RVD. Malenko introduces RVD to the steel, bloodying him up before locking on the Texas Cloverleaf and getting the tap-out, a great thumb-in-the-eye on the way to the contract signing and WarGames.
If there was any hesitation on the part of the audience in regards to Booker T’s and DDP’s recent actions, their introduction during the main event tag match erases all doubt; the crowd vociferously boos DDP and the WCW Champion as they come down the aisle. Conversely, Big Show gets a hero’s reception, and Awesome, once a despised traitor, is given a warm welcome by the crowd. Booker and DDP no longer try to deny their non-favored status, resorting to every dirty trick in the book to try and fell the two big bruisers. But all the cheating in the world doesn’t stop the aggression of Show and Awesome and their quest to up-end the self-appointed spokesmen for WCW. Show gives his future teammates no mercy in manhandling them as if they were small children, while Awesome uses his unorthodox offense to wear them out. The teamwork of Show and Awesome rivals long-time partnerships, but they can’t match the deceitfulness of DDP and Booker, who use diversion to set up the illegal use of brass knuckles by Booker to get the pinfall (with his feet on the ropes, no less) on Show.
The ring is set up with a luxuriant red carpet, the ring ropes removed to make way for a large horseshoe-shaped table. A cadre of lawyers precede the representatives of the respective companies, standing on the arena floor in the corner of their clients. Paul Heyman leads his three representatives to the ring first, acknowledging the crowd’s overwhelming hatred for him by enthusiastically waving like the grand marshall at a parade to the jeering audience, then seating himself at the center of the table as if he were king of the realm. Arn and Flair come out next to a thunderous applause, despite having Booker T and DDP in tow; Heyman smiles extra-wide, noticing Arn is a man short. “Where’s the um …” Heyman sticks his arms out, his face falling slack, his eyes as dull as day-old dishwater; he lets out a gutteral groan and forces his voice down into a low growl. “Me smash … me eat whole buffet table!” Heyman laughs uncontrolably at his own joke, his crew joining in (except for the still-pissy RVD).
Arn glares at Booker, who shows no sense of remorse about his actions. “He’s getting tended to by medics.” Arn turns back to Heyman. “He’s not needed for this. Booker and DDP are sufficient witnesses.”
Heyman shrugs as if to say suit yourself, then sits back and puts his feet on the table, waiting for the announcer to welcome the WWF delegation.
But no one comes through the entrance. The music continues to play while Heyman twitches his feet, looking even more malevolently gleeful then before. Finally, a gaggle of voices can be heard, and seven arguing men come out in a cluster, each trying to shove or provoke or prevent the person standing nearest him. Regal is the only one not tied up in the human battlefield of Austin, Undertaker, Kane, Jericho, Angle and Rock; he rushes to the ring, looking back at the tangle of fighters in disgust. “Don’t you have any bloody security in this god-forsaken hellhole?” he opines to Arn. “Don’t just sit there, do something! Get those ruffians away from our proceedings!”
Flair grins. “What’s a matter, Big Willie? Ain’t you got control over your boys?” Regal goes to say something, but Flair gets right in his face and cuts him off with an ear-splitting “Woo!” that makes Regal’s face twist and contort in revulsion. Flair starts to provoke Regal, daring him hit take a swing until Arn pulls him back and tells him to take a seat. Regal flashes Flair a dirty look, mocking him being reigned in like a child. Flair seethes, his hands balling into fists, but, with Arn there, Flair resists the urge to take the WWF Commissioner’s head off.
Finally, the arguing gaggle make it into the ring, although they almost up-end the table with their pushing and shoving. Arn steps in and helps Regal separate the two groups, with Regal holding back Austin, ‘Taker and Kane, and Arn keeping Jericho, Rock and Angle at bay. All six continue to shout at each other across the ring until Arn and Regal bellow at the top of their lungs for them to shut up. When they finally do, Arn says; “Okay, I’m gonna ask this, and I’m gonna ask it once.” He turns to Austin’s party, and for a brief second, the cool, razor-sharp glint of the Enforcer creeps back into Arn’s eyes. “And I swear by the Good Lord Almighty, if you much as breathe too loud, I’ll personally wrap my tire iron around your head, you got that? Am I clear?” Regal’s charges eye Arn suspiciously, but stand down and keep their mouths shut. “Now, Chris … what the hell is going on?” Jericho glares over Arn’s shoulder, only for Arn to physically grab Jericho by the jaw and redirect his attention to himself. “Don’t look at them, look at me. What is going on?”
Jericho sloughs off Arn’s grip and steps back a second, composing himself. “Arn, it’s real simple,” he says. “Those guys do not represent the majority of the WWF locker room, they don’t represent the company’s best interests, and they don’t represent the fans. And even if they could come close to doing one of those, they can’t beat a housefly with a shotgun! These are the men who’ve wanted to eradicate you since WCW came back, the guys who tried to bury me and Raven and anyone else who didn’t agree with them!”
“Aw, he’s full of crap!” whines Austin. “Listen to him! He’s as-“
Arn’s head whips around as if it were on a swivel. “What did I tell you about keeping your mouth shut?”
Steve glares right back, refusing to be cowed by Arn. “Do you know who I am? My name is Stone Cold Steve Austin, and I-“
Rocky cuts off Austin with a barrage of verbage; “Am a cousin-kissin’, knuckle-draggin, beer-suckin’, trailer-livin’ whiny bitch!”
Undertaker tries to get past Regal, but Regal catches him by the arm and hauls him back, then looks back at Rock with a scowl. “Can’t you keep your bloody trap shut?”
“No more then your momma can keep her legs shut!” replies Rock. Regal’s scowl gets even nastier, but Rock scowls right back.
Suddenly, Heyman stands up, straightens his tie and says; “Ladies and gentlemen, we seem to have encountered a roadblock on the way to Survivor Series. I, for one, did not come to this god-forsaken no man’s land you call WCW just to watch a bunch of spoiled WWF brats bicker like school children. And,” he says, looking at Arn, “I certainly didn’t come here to take away someone who stabbed me in the back already … although I do share his opinion that the WWF should be confident enough and willing to put up the future of their company in this match … I know I’m willing to, because that’s how confident I am. Obviously, we can’t expect the WWF to agree to terms for the match, when they can’t even be bothered to name a team! So, therefore, I have a solution … it’s not the best solution, but I think it’s fair. Why don’t we give the WWF time to sort out their issues, decide on terms and a team, and sign these contracts Thursday, on Smackdown?”
One by one, each party gives a reluctant consent to the idea. Heyman grins wide and gives an exaggerated nod. “It’s settled then! Thursday, on Smackdown, after the WWF deliberates, we’ll reconvene …” Heyman walks out of the ring, trailed by his charges. At the foot of the steps, Heyman turns, his _expression grave. “To sign your death warrant!” Heyman cackles madly as he walks away, leaving the two WWF parties glaring at each other in the WCW ring … until Booker and DDP jump Austin’s party, igniting a massive brawl between all three teams that closes out Nitro.
Smackdown: Nov. 8th
The second attempt at a contract signing, and the incumbant speculation about the team and acceptance of the all-or-nothing stipulations, dominate the air of Smackdown. Intense deliberations by the board of directors and the owners are mentioned, with heated debate in favor of both teams driving a wedge in the boardroom as sharp and divisive as in the locker room. Amidst the turmoil, there is still a wrestling show to put on, and 2 more quarter-final matches in the Intercontinental Title tournament remain, as well as a “unique” challenge by the Dudley family for the WWF, and a to-be-determined main event.
RVD comes out first, a chair in hand, which he sits down on in the middle of the ring. He lets the crowd and everyone else watching sweat out a few silent minutes before finally speaking. “I was the first man to hold the WWF Intercontinental and WCW United States Championships simultaneously. And for some reason, I got left out of the tournament for the IC Title. Me! Mr. Pay-Per-View! The former champ, being denied my rightful rematch. So I am here tonight, and I won’t leave this ring until I get what’s coming to me.”
The Rock’s music fills the arena, sending the crowd into an instant frenzy. Out comes The Rock, dressed for battle, microphone in hand. The Rock paces across the stage like a lion in a cage, never taking his eyes off RVD. “Who … the hell … are you?” RVD opens his mouth, but Rock cuts him off with predictable (but rousing) “IT DOESN’T MATTER WHO YOU ARE!” The crowd chants “Rocky”, which he soaks in until it dies off. “All day long, every damn day, The Rock has to hear it from somebody; ‘I’m Booker T, I’m the f-f-f-f-five-time WCW Champion!’ ‘My name is Stone Cold Steve Austin, and I’m a stump-dumb redneck!’ Now, The Rock has to hear it from …” Rock waves in the air, as if trying to conjure RVD’s name. “Whoever the hell you are, Rip Van Winkle, Dick Van Dyke, Martin Van Buren, Chevy Van … it just doesn’t matter, because the fact of the matter is you’re just another jabroni, taking time out of The Rock’s show, whining and moaning, and The Rock has had it up to the top, to the tippy-top of The People’s Eyebrow, of jabronis like you! So what The Rock’s fixing to do now … The Rock, he has the ear of the company, and he has the ear of the people. If you think you can get past The Rock right now, in The Rock’s ring, on The Rock’s show, then maybe, maybe, you got a shot in getting into that tournament.” RVD starts to protest, but Rock silences him. “Arent you the one who just said you’re Mr. Pay-Per-View? The Rock remembers you guaranteeing victory at Survivor Series … if you can win WarGames, surely you can beat The Rock!”
Rocky charges the ring and is up on his feet and swinging before RVD can even register the sudden turn of events. A referee races down and rings the bell in time for RVD to eat a spinebuster. RVD bails before Rock can connect with the People’s Elbow, which throws off Rock’s momentum, and RVD takes control by throwing Rock into the stairs. But as fast as RVD can strike, Rock counters, drilling him with a Rock Bottom and the pin. RVD throws a fit, kicking and swearing and yelling at the ref while Rock heads back to the locker room amidst the cheers of the fans.
Regal comes to the ring, clad in his nice suit, nose up in the air as always. “Before I address my match tonight, I have words for someone.” Regal looks directly at the camera, raw hatred and fury oozing from every pore. “Ric Flair … I am sick of your wise lip, I am sick of your attitude and your feeble attempts at pretending you have any sort of class. It is time someone showed you exactly what your position is in this industry, and I am the gentleman to do it. Therefore, I put forth to you a challenge for Survivor Series … your …” Regal chuckles disdainfully. “Your pathetic figure-four against my superior Regal Stretch. We shall see who the true gentleman and distinguished statement of wrestling truly is.” Regal exaggerates a mournful sigh. “Now then, onto pressing matters, namely my match against Raven in the tournament. All attempts to contact Mr. Raven have been unsuccessful. Therefore, this referee right here will ring the bell and, should this Raven person not show up in 10 seconds, he’ll be counted out and I shall advance.” Regal sets the mic on the mat and puts his arms behind his back, a smug smile on his face as the ref starts the count. The sudden cheering of the crowd never registers with Regal as anything other then applause for his impending advancement in the tournament … and, therefore, he never sees Raven come through the crowd and slide into the ring. When the referee stops counting, Regal notices and turns his sneer towards Earl Hebner … and right into a kick in the gut and a lightning-quick Raven Effect DDT. Raven gets the pin and disappears into the crowd again while the ref checks on the unconscious Regal. The sudden victory moves Raven into the semi-final to face Hardcore Holly, who defeats X-Pac in his quarterfinal match.
Like on Nitro, the ring is draped in a red carpet and an ornate U-shaped table. By agreement, the respective leaders keep their retinues at bay (save for the lawyers), leaving Heyman and Arn to traverse the aisle alone, to the table in the ring of the enemy. Arn and Heyman sit in silence as they wait for the WWF’s chosen representative, of whom there has been no clue given.
When “No Chance In Hell” cues up, almost everyone in the building gasps simultaneously; the deposed Chairman, Vince McMahon, steps out, with his wife Linda walking right beside. Arn smiles just a little, but Heyman is apoplectic. “Y- y-you can’t do this!” he screams. “He … he’s banned! He’s not allowed … what the hell …”
Vince steps up to Heyman, leering over him like a tower over an ant. Heyman does a respectable facsimile of the “McMahon gulp”, but before Vince can do anything, Linda puts a hand on his arm. “Sit down, Vince.” For a panic-stricken moment, everyone in the arena sees Vince’s hands ball into fists and his lip curl up in a rabid-dog snarl; another brawl seems assured … until Vince suddenly grabs a chair and sits down. Linda stands behind Vince, one hand on his shoulder. “I assure you, Paul, everything is above-board.” Linda sighs and looks at Arn. “The board of directors has agreed to accept your terms, Commissioner Anderson; the WWF will, like you and the Lunatic Fringe, gamble its future on the outcome of the WarGames match at Survivor Series. This is why Vince is here; as part-owner, the board of directors felt he had a right to witness the proceedings, provided he had no hand in them. I trust there are no objections?”
Arn shakes his head silently, confidently; Heyman is too stunned to do much but give a slow, stupid single shake of the head.
“Good. Our lawyers have taken the liberty of re-drafting the contract to fulfill these specifications. There are copies for the both of you to provide your lawyers for their approval, of course‗
“Wait!” Heyman stands up. “You expect us to sign a contract when you haven’t even named your team? What kind of scam are you running, lady?”
Vince’s entire body tightens, and he starts to stand up. Linda pushes on his shoulder until he acquiesces. “I assure you, Paul, there is no scam here. I have not mentioned the team yet for one reason …”
The music of Chris Jericho cues up and the crowd goes nuts. No sooner has Jericho stepped out then The Rock’s music comes on, and he joins Jericho on the stage; immediately following, Angle’s music ushers him out, and the three walk down the aisle together as Heyman flies off the handle. He jumps up out of his seat so fast, the chair flies out from beneath him. “What the hell is going on, Linda?” Heyman circles around and approaches Linda, his eyes wild with rage. “What the hell scam are you pulling, you double-crossing bitch?”
The H is barely past Heyman’s lips when Vince leaps from his seat; he wraps his hands around Heyman’s throat and shoves him into the nearest corner, muttering under his breath. “YOU SHUT YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH, YOU MISERABLE‗
Jericho, Rock and Angle, seeing Vince flip his lid from the aisle, race into the ring and pry Vince off of Heyman. Heyman clutches at his throat, coughing and vowing a lawsuit. Jericho and Angle hold back Vince while Rock deals with Heyman. “The Rock says you need to pick up your chair, sit your one-too-many-cheese-crust-pizzas ass in it, know your role and shut your mouth!” Heyman opens his mouth, but Rock pantomimes a closing mouth with his hand a couple inches from Heyman’s nose. Heyman’s teeth clack when his mouth shuts; he rights his chair and plops down, too stunned to say or do anything. “Now, The Rock says you’re going to keep your mouth shut while we explain this for you. Next Sunday … WarGames … big match. WWF on the line. WCW on the line. Fringe on the line. You got Booker T, you got Rhyno, you got DDP, you got Austin, you got Undertaker, you got all the big names! But there’s one thing missing, one piece of the puzzle all of you forgot, one group all of you super-smart, suit-wearing monkeys forgot … the people.” The crowd starts to chant “Rocky”, but Rock holds up a hand to silence them. As soon as they do, Rock gestures to Angle.
“First of all, Mrs. McMahon, let me just say that I think you’re a fabulous lady. Mr. McMahon, you built this company into the powerhouse it is. Mr. Anderson, you’re a freakin’ legend! And Mr. Heyman …” Angle falls silent; everyone looks at him, waiting for him to finish the sentence. “Anyway, what The Rock said is true; everyone has been so busy fighting and hurting and bickering that the one group of people, the fans have been forgotten! Mr. Jericho has been fighting for them since day one, and since Rock came back, so has he. It took me a while to see the light, but daggummit, I did! The people made me their Olympic hero, and they look up to Rock and Jericho too! They don’t wanna see that go away! That’s why we’re here tonight.”
Jericho picks up, his voice as cold and lethal as a razor blade. “The bottom line, as one of your boys would say, Vince, is that you guys wanna fight to the death? You wanna throw this business in the sewer? You wanna kill this industry? Over our dead bodies.” Jericho turns to Rock and gestures to Rock; Rock produces a ream of papers from his shirt and tosses it on the table. “That’s our new contract. Linda, we officially volunteer you to pick Austin’s team as your team … but WarGames will no longer be a three-way dance. That contract right there, that turns WarGames into a four way match … Team WWF versus Team WCW verses Team Fringe … versus The People’s Team.” The crowd goes nuts; Heyman’s eyes are wide as dinner plates, the opposite of Vince’s narrowed slits. Only Arn and Linda show no emotion; they merely study the scene, watching and listening. “The terms are simple; if we win, we call the shots. No mutually assured destruction; no dissolution; no unemployment. We will fight for the people, and if we win‗
Rock raises a hand. “When The People’s Team wins.”
“Right, when we win, we will do right by the people, and accede to their wishes.”
The lawyers come into the ring and discuss the development with their clients. Arn is the first to speak, pledging full support for the stipulations. Linda follows suit, leaving only Heyman, who is too taken aback from the chaos of the past few minutes to offer much of anything in the way of a cohesive opinion. Jericho leans down, getting nose-to-nose with Heyman. “This is not up for negotiation, you pompous jackass. Either agree to the terms, or watch us tear through every last damned one of your soldiers and send them to the hospital. Take your pick.”
Heyman looks at Jericho, then behind him, at Angle and Rock, stoic but grim, three angels of death. Nothing but air comes out the first time Heyman tries to speak. “C’mon, jerky, speak!” says Jericho, giving Heyman a light slap on the cheek. “You can do it!”
“F-f-fine … you …” Heyman can’t manage anything more; he scribbles a barely legible signature. Linda and Arn put their pens to the paper, making official the historic highest-stakes match in wrestling history.
“Now, one more thing …” says Jericho. “Kurt and Rock didn’t come tonight ready for a fight, but I damn sure did … and I think the people would like a preview of WarGames. So, how about you all do right by the people for once and give ’em something … say, a fatal-four-way … me, Austin, Rhyno and Booker?” All three parties quickly agree, signing the biggest main event in Smackdown history.
The entire Dudley family come out, unscheduled according to JR and Michael Cole. D-Von speaks first; “Ohhh, my brother, the WWF is on the run! The power of the Fringe, with the combined strength of the Dudley family … ohhhhhhh, testify, my brother!”
Bubba Ray takes the stick. “There ain’t a tag team we haven’t beaten! The Dudleys have no competition left, and frankly, we’re bored as hell! So we got together and thought up a great idea … we call it The Dudley Challenge. The WWF can send out any three guys to face us … if any of them can beat us, that guy wins the Tag Titles!”
Bubba Ray tosses the microphone away as JR and Cole speculate about who will take up the challenge. Christian is the first out of the curtain, racing to the ring as if his ass were on fire. Jeff Hardy starts down the aisle, but the APA come from behind and lay him out, laughing as they stroll to the ring, leaving Jeff on the ground, holding his head. Neither see Matt come up from behind and clock Faarooq in the back of the head with a chair and speed by, taking up the space next to Christian. Bradshaw’s jaw, but with the spot claimed, there is nothing he can do but take up the final spot on the team. Bradshaw’s resentment almost turns him into a fourth teammate for the Dudleys, doing everything he can to derail Christian’s and Matt’s attempts at victory. The teamwork of the Dudleys overwhelms the mismatched trio, but when Christian and Matt manage to isolate Spike, Saturn comes down to stop the shift in momentum. Edge races down to even the odds, and Jeff and Faarooq shake out the cobwebs to join in, and with the Fringe’s insistence on Extreme Rules, the ref can’t throw out the match. In the chaos, Matt lands a Twist Of Fate on D-Von while Bradshaw connects with the Clothesline From Hell, occurring in simultaneous pinning attempts. With no hope of restoring order, and all track of the legal men gone, the ref has no choice but to count both pinfall attempts, both of which go to three. The crowd is happy to see the Dudley family lose the belts again, but the ramifications quickly become apparent: members of opposing teams now co-hold the belts. Bradshaw tries to take the belt from Matt, who responds with a shove and, as quick as the blink of an eye, the two teams are brawling with each other. Authorities clear up the brawling, but the announcers opine that the future of the WWF Tag Titles look no better in the possession of people who hate each other then they were on The Dudleys.
The referee finds it all but impossible to get the fatal-four-way main event under any sense of control. Booker and Austin are the first two in the ring and waste no time getting to brawling, and no one takes a step out to the apron when Rhyno and Jericho get to the ring. None of the wrestlers even bother trying for a pinfall, too focused are they on just pounding the living hell out of each other. The ref calls for the match to be thrown out, but before he can do anything, he, along with everyone else in the ring, is overrun by Fringe forces, who pulverize everyone save for their teammate. The WWF Champion leads the team in running through the three competitors as Heyman mocks the three team captains and their respective groups. “Is this what you wanted, gentlemen? Is this how you wanted things, Linda? Arn? Vince? If you wanna screw with Paul Heyman, there’s one thing you have to remember: I’m already a broken man. You drove ECW into the ground and virtually stole the money right out of my pockets. A man with nothing to lose and a thirst for vengeance is the most dangerous man on earth; you’ll do well to remember that come Survivor Series!”
Nitro: Nov. 12th
The final Nitro before Survivor Series begins with a taped message from Shane McMahon, seated in his office. On the walls surrounding him are various pictures from matches, promotional posters of events, and photos of wrestlers. “Good evening, everyone,” he begins, “and welcome to a very special edition of WCW Monday Nitro! As you can see, I am in my office, surrounded by memories of WCW’s great legacy. I have every confidence in the world that Booker T, The Big Show and Diamond Dallas Page will be victorious in this, WCW’s greatest hour of need. But it would be foolish not to acknowledge the challenge ahead of us, standing in our way of survival. For us to be successful on Sunday, we must not only present a unified team, but we must draw upon the strength of WCW’s spirit of unity, and its defiant legacy. It is in that spirit that tonight, in addition to the normal fantastic wrestling you’re accustomed to seeing each and every Monday Nitro, we’ll be airing flashbacks to classic matches and moments in WCW’s history. I encourage you to tape this broadcast, to preserve it for your library, so may relive these historic moments at your leisure. And, from the bottom of all our hearts, we thank you, the fans, for supporting World Championship Wrestling.”
Flair comes out, decked out in an impeccable three-piece suit. “Did I hear someone say that tonight was a celebration? Woo!” The crowd woos back, which makes Flair smile. “Cause it ain’t a celebration without The Nature Boy! Woo! Sunday! Survivor Series! And … heh heh heh … Big Willie Regal … you wanna piece of The Nature Boy? You think you can go toe to toe with Ric Flair? Buddy boy, you ain’t got the jack to even lace my boots. You put on a cheap suit, and you walk around like you’re some kinda champion, but Slick Willie … there’s only one man who styles and profiles … a wheelin’, dealin’, kiss-stealin’, limousine-ridin, jet-flyin’ sonofagun! You’re nothing but a cheap copy, a phony, a fraud, and come Survivor Series, WAP!” Flair smacks one hand with the other, his eyes so wide, he looks as if he surprised himself. “I’ll smack the white right off your teeth! Woo! Now then!” Flair’s rage subsides just as quick as it bubbled up; he smoothes out his lapels and smiles as big as the Grand Canyon. “If this is a party for WCW, then there’s a guy back there who means just as much to WCW as I do, and he needs to get his butt out here!”
Arn Anderson comes out, dressed as smartly as Flair. Flair and Arn embrace, drawing a standing ovation from the crowd. Fighting back real tears, Flair speaks, his voice low, almost inaudible if not for the microphone; “Three years ago, I was in a place in my life where I didn’t know if I could be the Nature Boy anymore. I’d been thrown out like the trash, just another old man who didn’t have crap to offer the rest of the business. Three years ago, I was driven out of this company and turned into a shell. This man, this man right here, he brought me out of my darkness. I wouldn’t be standing here today if my best friend, Double-A Arn Anderson, hadn’t brought me back.” Flair turns to Arn, shakes his hand and thanks him, which turns into another embrace. While they are embracing again (with tears coming down the cheeks of both men), Dean Malenko comes into the ring and embraces both men. The crowd is at a fever pitch for the near-complete reunion of the final roster of the Four Horsemen.
Malenko takes the microphone, composes himself, then begins. “Arn, Ric, you know there is no one more then me that respects what the Four Horsemen stand for, and what they meant to WCW. WCW stood for wrestling excellence, and the Horsemen stood head and shoulders above them all. The Horsemen were the elite force in professional wrestling.” Malenko takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, as if composing himself. “And it’s time they ride again.”
Arn’s and Flair’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets. Malenko doesn’t let the reaction intimidate him; he holds up the four fingers, his face set into a stone mask of determination. “This was the sign of the most elite unit in the history of wrestling, the beating heart of WCW for more then a decade. And if you truly want WCW to succeed beyond Survivor Series, it needs us.”
“Well, that’s all well and good, Dean,” Arn says. “But you’re forgetting something; there’s only three of us in this ring, and I’m not exactly in fighting shape. There can’t be a Four Horsemen without four men.”
Malenko nods. “I know, Arn. Three years ago, when I was trying to get you to wake up to the need for the Horsemen, you questioned me, you said I didn’t get it. You owned up to your wrong; you said I did get it. Do you still trust me that way?”
Arn nods. “Of course, Dean.”
“Then can you trust me when I say I believe I’ve found men that exemplify what it means to be a Horsemen? The desire to be the best, the need to compete at levels other men only dream of, the persistence to go on, despite injury or personal risk … the qualities that make a man a Horsemen. I believe I’ve found two men who fill that void.”
“Dean-o,” says Flair, “you know we trust you to the ends of the world.”
“Then allow me to introduce to you two guys who I think can live up to the Horsemen standards.” Malenko begins to address both Flair, Arn and the crowd. “The first man has held two different World Titles in his career, as well as numerous other championships. He’s tougher then nails, he’s a fighter, and at Survivor Series … well, this man has impressed me enough that I think he deserves a shot at the United States Championship. Ladies, gentlemen, and esteemed friends … Mike Awesome!”
Awesome comes out to a surprisingly positive reaction. Flair and Arn regard him with a little skepticism, chatting to each other, but not saying a word outright; when Awesome gets to the ring, he shakes hands enthusiastically with Arn and Flair, but neither of the elder Horsemen look entirely thrilled. Arn and Flair look to each other to speak, but Dean takes them both off-guard. “I know, you’re skeptical. But I want each one of you to look deep in your heart, and think back to who you’ve allowed to wear the mantle of Horseman. Think of how many people the Horsemen took in who once stood as enemies of the organization. Think of the deceits, of the destruction that the Horsemen have rained down on in their day … and then you think about this man, Mike Awesome. There was a time when The Four Horsemen were respected not for their achievements or their legacy, but because they struck fear into the hearts of their opponents. Everything that The Four Horsemen stood for when they first came together, this man stands for now.” Malenko can see that the arguments, while true, aren’t sinking in like he wants them to; he takes a deep breath, then says; “Remember what you said to me three years ago, Arn? In case you forgot, I took the liberty of having this prepared.” All eyes direct to the screen, where a snippet of footage from the historic Horsemen reunion cues up. “I’ve been out here yakking for the last ten years about what it meant to be a Horseman,” says an Arn a few years younger; “Work ethic, respect for the business, respect for each other, respect for the people that came before us, and while I was yakking the last year, and the last couple of months, you were out there fighting the fights for the Horsemen. You exemplify what a Horseman has always meant.” The clip ends, and Malenko turns back to Arn and Flair. “If I exemplify what a Horsemen has always meant, shouldn’t I be able to recognize it in someone else?”
Awesome steps forward and asks for the microphone from Malenko. Malenko surrenders it, and Awesome speaks with an obviously heavy heart. “I know I made mistakes over the past few months,” he says. “I screwed WCW, and Paul Heyman screwed me back. I got what I deserved, and I have been punished. But I’m done being punished. I’ve done everything I can to make it up to people. Now, I wanna get back to what I came to WCW for in the first place: to be the absolute best.” Awesome holds up the four fingers. “This is the best of the best. There’s nothing better.”
Flair and Arn debate for a moment; finally, Arn steps up to Awesome. “Tell you what, son. If Malenko says you’re something, there must be something to ya. I’m not gonna lie and say me and Ric not a hundred percent on ya, but the word of Dean Malenko means something to us, so we’re gonna take that into consideration. How’s about this; you two, you guys may be fighting at Survivor Series, but tonight, we want to see you as a team. You two show us how it’s done … Mike, you show us how you think a Horsemen gets it done, and if we like what we see …” Arn completes the sentence with the four fingers, which draws a nod of approval from Malenko and Awesome.
Ric starts in right after, looking to wrap things up, but Malenko taps him on the shoulder. “Ric, I got one more person.”
“Dean, we go back, buddy. But you gave us a big piece to chew on tonight. Can it wait?”
Dean shakes his head. “You won’t need to think about this at all. As a matter of fact, I think, if anything, this’ll help you make up your mind even faster. He’s not a hundred percent right now, but when he is, he’ll be the best damn Horsemen you ever seen, cause he already knows what it’s like to be one.” Tenay and Hudson are totally buffaloed at who it could be; the music answers everything, and Chris Benoit comes to the ring. Huge smiles break out on the faces of the men in the ring. Benoit is welcomed with hugs and a thunderous standing ovation. When Benoit gives the four fingers, Arn and Flair give it back with a tear in their eyes, giving the official stamp in making the reunion a relaunching of the dynasty.
Horsemen highlights are liberally sprinkled through the evening’s remembrances, all leading up to the big main event, pitting Malenko and Awesome against Booker and DDP. The teamwork of Booker and DDP is a lot more concrete then that of Malenko and Awesome, relative strangers to tagging with each other, but the desire for Awesome to prove himself to Arn and Flair, and for Malenko to prove his judgment accurate, drives the team beyond what Booker and DDP can handle. The duo has to resort to cheating to keep their opponents from overpowering them, but with every passing moment, Booker and DDP find themselves losing traction. Facing certain defeat, DDP resorts to a blatant low blow to draw a DQ … only for Arn to come out and insist the match restart until there is a legitimate winner. Unfortunately, no sooner does Arn return to the dressing room then Team Fringe comes out and goes after Booker and DDP. Flair and Arn come out of the back, brandishing a chair and a tire iron respectively, while Awesome and Malenko come to the aid of Booker and DDP with only their bare hands. The unified force of the Horsemen is enough to drive the Fringe group from the ring (although the referee had long since thrown out the match). Booker and DDP regard the Horsemen with disdain, refusing the offers of handshakes and well-wishes for Sunday. When Flair lays a hand on DDP to turn him around and yell at him for their disrespect, DDP pulls a Diamond Cutter out of nowhere. Booker and DDP quickly exit the ring, running like scalded dogs down the aisle, laughing all the way. Arn grabs a microphone, so angry his hands are shaking. “Nobody wants to see WCW survive more then me, but you two … you disrespectful ingrate bastards … you better damn well hope you lose on Sunday, because if there’s a Nitro next week, the two of you are looking at a long night with the Horsemen riding up on your asses!”
Smackdown: Nov. 15th
The final Smackdown before Survivor Series begins with a taped package that announces, like Nitro, the night will be mostly dedicated to revisiting the glory of the World Wrestling Federation’s run on television; footage of Superstars, Wrestling Challenge, Saturday Night’s Main Event and Raw are promised, revisiting the most cherished memories and controversial moments.
The semi-finals of the Intercontinental tournament provide the main course of new wrestling for the evening, with the finals to occur at Survivor Series. Edge’s match against Test goes first, another challenge against a bigger man. Edge utilizes his speed to overcome the challenge and easily dispatches Test with an Edgecution. After the match, Christian approaches Edge with a request for a title shot should Edge win the Intercontinental Title.
“Dude, why would I wanna do that?” Edge says, almost insulted at the idea. “You’re my brother, I don’t wanna fight you!”
“Yeah, but like, you got the shot at the Intercontinental Title … and I wasn’t even the tournament … you’re the King Of The Ring … throw me a bone, homeslice!”
Edge gives his brother a friendly clap on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, man. Your time will come!” he proclaims and walks away, leaving Christian more then a little perturbed.
Regal comes to see Matt Hardy and encourages him to forfeit his half of the Tag Titles as a sign of harmony and willingness to do the right thing. Matt scoffs at the idea and insists he will defend the titles until he and Bradshaw lose them. Regal tries to explain that he has signed a Survivor Series-style match for the event, with The Hardys teaming with The APA against the Dudley family and Perry Saturn, and that it would go a lot smoother if the titles were on one team instead of split between two. When Matt asks Regal if he’s asked the same of Bradshaw, Regal laughs, as if the idea is too ridiculous to warrant a real response. Matt stands up and tells Regal what he can do with the “command”; Regal responds with a sneer and warns Matt there is a price for insolence. The price, he finds out when he comes out to defend the Tag Titles, is to defend against his own brother, partnered with, of all people, Christian. Bradshaw and Christian are all too eager to get into the fight, but Jeff and Matt are hesitant to cross paths. Unfortunately for Regal, his plan doesn’t pan out, as Bradshaw flattens Jeff with the Clothesline From Hell for the pin. Christian wigs out, throwing a full-blown temper tantrum at the loss, but no one pays attention with Matt getting into it with Bradshaw. Faarooq comes out, but is held back by security, a contingent of whom is sent to the ring to break up Matt and Bradshaw. All the while, watching in their dressing room, The Dudleys laugh at the sight of their opponents tearing each other apart.
Following that is the final semi-final match in the tournament, pitting Hardcore Holly against Raven. Per Hardcore Holly’s request, the match is fought under hardcore rules, but he quickly finds himself in over his head with the extreme veteran. Raven has no qualms about taking hardcore beyond its normal limits, and within minutes, Holly is begging for mercy. A quick DDT on a chair stills Holly’s tongue and puts Raven in the finals against Edge at Survivor Series.
After a final video package, Austin, Undertaker and Kane come to the ring, each looking fiercely determined. “There ain’t no need to for us to come out here and worry ’bout what if crap,” Austin says, “since everybody knows we’re gonna whoop ass like nobody’s business come Sunday; Kane’s gonna beat the stupid right outta, and back into, them WCW pieces of garbage … Big Evil here’s gonna stomp them ECW trash back to Philly … and me, well, I done stocked up last night, went to the store and bought me three full-sized kegs of whoop-ass: one for Rocky, one for that idiot Kurt Angle, one extra-special keg for Chris Jericho. But, ya see, come next Mondayâ€â€Âand it’ll be next Monday, since we’ll be getting Raw back, you bet your assâ€â€Âafter we beat everybody’s ass and walk away the winners, we’re gonna have couple problems on our hands … see, first of all, we’re gonna have Rock, Jericho and Angle still around. Any ideas, guys?”
Kane merely chuckles while pounding one fist into his other hand. Undertaker rubs his chin, as if the issue requires deep thought, and answers in a gruff tone; “Who says they’re walkin’ outta the cage, Steve?”
Austin lets loose with a deep belly laugh. “HA! That’s a damn good point. So, I guess maybe the one or two of you stupid sons of bitches out there who still like them-” The crowd cuts in with a spontaneous “Rocky” chant; the threesome look around the arena in silence, sneering at the audience. “Chant it all you want,” Austin says with a devilish grin, “cause we’re gonna send Rocky back to Hollywood in a wheelchair.” The crowd responds harshly to this, but Austin doesn’t care in the slightest. “The bottom line is, y’all better get your fill of ’em this Sunday, cause come next Monday, you can bet your ass they ain’t gonna be in no shape to show up to anything ‘cept an emergency room!”
The music of The Rock cuts in; Rock almost runs to the ring, but instead of fighting, he just gets in the face of Austin. Jericho and Angle come right behind, each one a step behind Rock on either side of him. “For over two years, two years, it’s been Rock and Austin, Austin and The Rock.” Rock holds up two fingers right in Austin’s face. “Two years! You beat The Rock at WrestleMania 15, and you had to suck Vince McMahon’s ass to beat The Rock at WrestleMania 17. You had to get that piece of monkey crap Triple H to help you beat me the next night.” Rock holds up the fingers again. “Two years! Two years, I’ve had to listen to your mouth. Then, I come back this summer, and suddenly, there you are, acting like you never bashed The Rock in the head with a chair, acting like you and The Rock were a-okay. The Rock has had enough, Austin, so let The Rock make one thing perfectly, absolutely crystal clear.” Rock brings his mouth up next to Austin’s ear, keeping the microphone nearby so it can pick up what he is whispering. “You’re done here.” Rock comes back in front, still right in Austin’s face. “You’re through. Booger Evil or whatever stupid-ass nickname he has this week, he’s done. The Big Red Retard, he’s done. Commissioner Monkey Anus, he’s done, every damn last one of you is done here. The boys don’t want you anymore; Linda McMahon don’t want you anymore … why else do you think she let Jericho and The Rock and Angle into WarGames? The people don’t even want you here anymore. The next time you cross The Rock’s path, The Rock will make damn sure you get shown the door. And that’s, as you say, the bottom line …” Rock whips off his sunglasses and glares deep into Austin’s eyes. “… because I say so.”
Austin turns away, then turns back, going for a sucker punch; Rock blocks it and fires back, triggering a six-man fracas … and, watching from aisles in the crowd sit the Fringe and WCW teams, smiling.
