Post by Jman2k3 on Nov 19, 2017 9:03:58 GMT
Scott Stevens vs The Iron Terror
Blackfront: Our opening match here tonight at Lasting Legacy is a grudge match that goes weeks as the Iron Terror and Scott Stevens put an end to their rivalry once and for all.
Ace: It hasn’t been much of a rivalry when you consider that Terror got a fluke win over the Texan and Stevens has owned him leading up to this.
Blackfront: Well last show Stevens didn’t look like he owned anyone as Iron Terror speared him out of his boots.
Ace: And he is going to pay dearly for sticking his nose in business that doesn’t pertain to him.
Blackfront: We’ll see as our first match is underway.
The lights in the arena go pitch black, as red lasers and spotlights light up the area. The video screen lights up and flashes across the screen a Texas flag, with the words, “Texas Born. Texas Bred.” “Texas Forever.“ branded into the flag. The crowd reaction is of pure hatred, as the opening guitar riffs and “Hellraiser” by Motorhead begins to play throughout the PA system.
Blackfront: Will Stevens get a needed win here tonight and prove it was a fluke the first time around or will Iron Terror prove he isn’t a one hit wonder?
The boos intensify as the chorus hits the speakers, drawing out the man from Texas.
Jordan: Introducing at this time, coming to us from the Great State of Texas, by way of Houston, Texas.
Walking down the aisle, he stops in front of a few of the fans who are holding an, “Iron Terror is Going to Kill You!” sign.
Blackfront: Stevens apparently doesn’t like that pro Iron Terror sign.
Stevens grabs the sign and begins to rip it up before tossing the shredded pieces back at the fans. The fans don’t like how their sign was treated as they throw beer and popcorn at the Texan as he raises a fist to the vocal bashers.
Ace: SECURITY! SECURITY! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!
Jordan: Standing at six feet, six inches, and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-six pounds...
As he finally gets to the ring, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and stares out towards the rabid crowd in attendance.
Jordan: This...is....SCOTTTTTTTTTTTTT STEEEEEEEEEEEVENSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!
An icy glare and a one finger salute to the haters are his only actions as he drops to the mat.
Blackfront: Stevens showing what a fine role model he is here tonight folks.
Ace: Stevens is a great role model and is adored by millions around the world.
Blackfront: And how much is he paying you to say that?
As Tommy argues Jason’s bias hatred of Stevens, the Texan’s music suddenly cuts off as……
"GRIPPING THE WHEEL, HIS KNUCKLES WHITE WITH DESIRE."
The driving baseline and distorted guitars of White Zombie's "Black Sunshine" blast out over the sound system. The lights dim to almost black; the backdrop is lit by sporadic flashes.
"THE WHEELS ON HIS MUSTANG EXPLODING ON THE HIGHWAY LIKE A SLUG FROM A .45"
Steam fills the entry way, and behind it, a massive figure appears.
"TRUE DEATH. 500 HORSEPOWER. MAXIMUM PERFORMANCE. THIS... IS BLACK SUNSHINE!"
The backlighting flares bright white as The Iron Terror raises his arms and walks through the glowing smoke. He exhales a mouthful of smoke as he stalks towards the ring, glowering at the fans.
Blackfront: The Terror has arrived!
Ace: Took you all week to think of that didn’t you?
Jumping from the floor to the ring apron in one bound, he doffs his hooded long coat and steps into the ring. He stoically ignores as the referee checks him for foreign objects, instead glowering at Stevens across the ring.
Blackfront: Terror looks ready to go as he foaming at the mouth to get his hands on the former Wildfire champion.
Ace: Well the rabid dog is fixing to be taken behind the barn and put down like Old Yeller.
As the two announcers continue to argue about who is the better man Stevens takes this opportunity to stretch out on the ropes looking like he’d rather be somewhere else as the ring announcer leaves the ring and the official signals for the bell.
Ding. Ding.
Blackfront: Here we go folks.
Ace: I hope this match doesn’t put me to sleep.
Blackfront: What? You’ve been ranting and raving about how Stevens is going to whoop ass here tonight.
Ace: I know. But I can see Stevens putting on such an ass whooping that it gets boring.
The two men lock up with Terror getting the advantage with a knee to the ribcage of Stevens. Terror puts his knee to the gut of Scott repeatedly until he falls to the mat. The Iron Terror waits for his opponent to get back to his feet, and once Stevens is on his feet, he charges at his opponent and knocks him down with a shoulder block. Terror goes for a quick pin!
1
KICKOUT!
Blackfront: The Iron Terror tried to end this match fast.
Ace: He should have known he wasn’t going to win off of a shoulder block!
The Iron Terror gets to his feet and pulls Stevens up by the hair. Terror engages his opponent in a grapple only to send him crashing to the mat seconds later with a standing spinebuster. He goes for the pin again!
1
2
KICKOUT!
Blackfront: That was close! The Iron Terror almost walked out of here with the victory.
Ace: That was not close…Stevens was just playing with him.
Blackfront: You must be blind!
Ace: On the contrary my friend, I eat my carrots.
Terror gets to his feet and hovers over the Texan as he begins to move. Looking to build on his momentum The Iron Terror doesn’t waste any more time and grabs Stevens by the head to bring him to his feet. However Stevens has other plans as he lands a timely placed low blow to the groin of Iron Terror, sending the man to the mat yelling in pain, while the referee is out of position.
Ace: Now that’s what I call wrestling!
Blackfront: You’re repulsive!
Ace: Yeah, that’s what your momma told me last night!
Stevens spends his time recuperating while The Iron Terror finally makes it to his feet, still in pain from the cheap shot. The two men lock up in the middle of the ring with Terror pushing Stevens into the corner. Regaining some lost momentum, Terror begins a combination of machine gun chops and forearm shivers, which keeps the Texan pinned in the corner. Unwilling to give up this advantage, he continues to fire, alternating between the crisp thunder of the open hand and the lightning quick forearm to the jaw, until referee Willie Anderson wedges himself between the two foes. Bent over, and forcing all of his weight into the gut of The Iron Terror Anderson is unaware when Stevens catches his opponent in the throat with a shot to the throat.
Blackfront: Ouch! Looks like that cheap shot from Stevens hurt.
Ace: He’s supposed to be a tough guy, he will be alright!
Terror collapses to the canvas on one knee, but instead of capitalizing on the advantage that he has Stevens takes this moment to shake the cobwebs out.
Ace: What is he doing?! Come on Stevens, finish him!
Blackfront: Iron Terror looks to be in a lot of pain. He is holding onto his neck.
Terror slowly rises to his feet and tries to end the match with the 11:59 as he rushes in to what he thinks is an unaware Texan, but Stevens saw him a mile away and tosses him up and over him causes him to land throat first on the top turnbuckle.
Blackfront: Oh my!
Stevens rolls to the outside to catch his breath and put some distance between him and his opponent, but the now stirring Iron Terror notices and while still holding his throat and coughing in the center of the ring, a second wind seems to kick in. As Stevens leans on the apron The Iron Terror reaches through the top and middle rope, desperately grasping at the Texan. Unable to grab anything concrete, however, The Iron Terror has only left himself open, as Stevens pivots just enough to hook him around the head, and hit the Toxic Sting, rattling Terror’s jaw against his own shoulder, and slingshotting the injured neck across the middle rope.
Ace: Now that was a nice move! Stevens should go ahead and pin him.
Blackfront: You’re so insincere! The man is injured and Stevens continues to attack the injury. That is dirty!
Ace: Trust me, that’s not dirty. I can show you dirty.
Blackfront: I will pass.
An sinister grin forms on the face of Scott Stevens as he slithers into the ring, but before he can make the cover, Anderson steps in front of him, waving his arms, and pushing Stevens back towards the corner. As Stevens steps back to his neutral position, Anderson refocuses on Iron Terror, who continues to clutch at his throat, and roll awkwardly back and forth on the canvas before coughing up blood and it doesn’t take long for Anderson to make his call, waving for the bell to sound, and motioning for the medical team to come out.
Ace: Are you serious?!?! This isn’t boxing! This is wrestling; the referee can’t call the match!
Blackfront: Have some compassion man! The Iron Terror could be seriously injured!
Ace: So much for being a tough guy when apparently he’s made up of paper mache instead of iron.
Blackfront: Whatever!
After the bell has rung, the referee continues to check on Terror’s condition, as he curls up in the fetal position, clutching at his throat and coughing up more blood.
Jordan: The winner of the match by way of referee stoppage… SCOTT STEVENS!
The medical crew rushes down the ramp way wheeling a stretcher in tow. Meanwhile, seemingly unsatisfied with his victory, Stevens heads over to the corner where he reaches through the ropes and beckons for a microphone.
Stevens: Get this piece of trash out of my ring.
Stevens watches as the medical team strap down The Iron Terror to the stretcher but they don’t do it fast enough to his liking.
Stevens: I said.......
Stevens drops the microphone, goes over to Iron Terror and pushes away the medical personnel and punches the referees trying to stop him. Stevens picks up the stretcher and places it right side up against the ropes threatening to flip the stretcher over. More officials and now UTA agents come running down the ramp and slide into the ring telling Stevens to leave the ring or face a consequence. Stevens tosses his hands up and yells ok a few times and acts like he is going to leave but flips over the stretcher and Iron Terror goes crashing down to the floor as the medical team rush out to check on him. Stevens just laughs at the site while the officials and agents are screaming at him. Stevens laughs at his handiwork and goes over to pick up the microphone.
Blackfront: Who in the hell does guy think he is!? Where is security!
Ace: Now this is fun to watch!
Stevens: I told ya’ll to get that piece of trash out of my ring.
Stevens walks over to the ropes and looks down at The Iron Terror’s fallen and prone body.
Stevens: Jeff…….
Blackfront: Jeff?
Ace: Who the fuck is Jeff?
Everyone is confused for a moment as Stevens has a brain fart moment.
Stevens: I’m sorry I forgot…..
Stevens says as he rolls out of the ring and over to the Iron Terror. Anger begins to build up on the Texan’s face as he begins to knee the Iron Terror in the face with his metal knee brace before backing up a bit to run and drive his knee into Terror’s face.
Blackfront: Where the hell is security?!?!?!? This man is sick!
Ace: Iron Terror is the disease and Stevens is the cure.
Blackfront: Cobra? Really? The eighties called wanting their jokes back.
Ace: Fuck you.
After delivering the Don’t Mess With Texas running knee trembler, Stevens begins to undo the mask of the Iron Terror revealing it to be none other than…..
Blackfront: THAT’S JEFF ANDREWS!
Ace: What’s he doing back here? It isn’t December yet.
Stevens looks at the mask and spits on it before rolling back into the ring.
Ace: Jeff, you brought all of this upon yourself.
Stevens says but the boos from the crowd start to drown the Texan out.
Stevens: I can wait.
Stevens says drawing more ire from the crowd as they begin to throw trash at the Texan.
Stevens: This trash represents all of you here tonight.
Stevens says as he walks over to the ropes to look at Jeff Andrews being attended by EMTs once again.
Stevens: Jeff, I told you this would be your fate for sticking your nose in my business. You actually thought you had a chance against me? DO I LOOK LIKE FUCKING SANTA CLAUSE?!?!?!?!?!?
Stevens screams at the unconscious Andrews.
Stevens: I just proved to you, and the rest of those fucks from Defiance what happens when you come to UTA and cross me!
Stevens shouts as he points to Andrews.
Stevens: Not only did I beat you, I made you forfeit. That should solidify the proof to that idiot owner of yours…..that’s you Eric Dane.
Stevens says as he turns his attention momentarily to the camera.
Stevens: I proved to you Jeff that you don’t belong in UTA much less in the same ring as me and while you are in the hospital thinking, no wishing, you never should have made an enemy of me just know we are done. I told you since the beginning you weren’t in my league and that I would end your career if you pursued this and you’re barely alive as a result. Your fate should also be a warning to any of those other Defiance fucks who want to get froggy and see how big of a set they got. Jeff, when you wake up in a few days, talk to your buddies down in the Big Sleazy to save them the same fate as you because as far as I’m concerned the Scott Stevens pwning a has-been, never-was feud is over!
Stevens shouts and drops the microphone to the canvas and exits the ring and heads up the ramp and disappears backstage. EMTs, agents, and officials tend to Jeff Andrews and manage to get the stretcher upright and begin to wheel him up the ramp. As they reach the top of the stage Stevens comes running full speed from the back and grabs the stretcher and throws a strapped down Jeff Andrews to the unforgiving concrete below.
Blackfront: That’s a fifteen foot drop!
Ace: That’s all?
Stevens admires his handiwork as a smile forms across his face as he takes a moment to bid farewell to Jeff Andrews with a one finger salute before security comes to drag the Texan away.
Blackfront: The guy is sick!
Ace: I love it!
Fade.
Blackfront: Our opening match here tonight at Lasting Legacy is a grudge match that goes weeks as the Iron Terror and Scott Stevens put an end to their rivalry once and for all.
Ace: It hasn’t been much of a rivalry when you consider that Terror got a fluke win over the Texan and Stevens has owned him leading up to this.
Blackfront: Well last show Stevens didn’t look like he owned anyone as Iron Terror speared him out of his boots.
Ace: And he is going to pay dearly for sticking his nose in business that doesn’t pertain to him.
Blackfront: We’ll see as our first match is underway.
The lights in the arena go pitch black, as red lasers and spotlights light up the area. The video screen lights up and flashes across the screen a Texas flag, with the words, “Texas Born. Texas Bred.” “Texas Forever.“ branded into the flag. The crowd reaction is of pure hatred, as the opening guitar riffs and “Hellraiser” by Motorhead begins to play throughout the PA system.
Blackfront: Will Stevens get a needed win here tonight and prove it was a fluke the first time around or will Iron Terror prove he isn’t a one hit wonder?
The boos intensify as the chorus hits the speakers, drawing out the man from Texas.
Jordan: Introducing at this time, coming to us from the Great State of Texas, by way of Houston, Texas.
Walking down the aisle, he stops in front of a few of the fans who are holding an, “Iron Terror is Going to Kill You!” sign.
Blackfront: Stevens apparently doesn’t like that pro Iron Terror sign.
Stevens grabs the sign and begins to rip it up before tossing the shredded pieces back at the fans. The fans don’t like how their sign was treated as they throw beer and popcorn at the Texan as he raises a fist to the vocal bashers.
Ace: SECURITY! SECURITY! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!
Jordan: Standing at six feet, six inches, and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-six pounds...
As he finally gets to the ring, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and stares out towards the rabid crowd in attendance.
Jordan: This...is....SCOTTTTTTTTTTTTT STEEEEEEEEEEEVENSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!
An icy glare and a one finger salute to the haters are his only actions as he drops to the mat.
Blackfront: Stevens showing what a fine role model he is here tonight folks.
Ace: Stevens is a great role model and is adored by millions around the world.
Blackfront: And how much is he paying you to say that?
As Tommy argues Jason’s bias hatred of Stevens, the Texan’s music suddenly cuts off as……
"GRIPPING THE WHEEL, HIS KNUCKLES WHITE WITH DESIRE."
The driving baseline and distorted guitars of White Zombie's "Black Sunshine" blast out over the sound system. The lights dim to almost black; the backdrop is lit by sporadic flashes.
"THE WHEELS ON HIS MUSTANG EXPLODING ON THE HIGHWAY LIKE A SLUG FROM A .45"
Steam fills the entry way, and behind it, a massive figure appears.
"TRUE DEATH. 500 HORSEPOWER. MAXIMUM PERFORMANCE. THIS... IS BLACK SUNSHINE!"
The backlighting flares bright white as The Iron Terror raises his arms and walks through the glowing smoke. He exhales a mouthful of smoke as he stalks towards the ring, glowering at the fans.
Blackfront: The Terror has arrived!
Ace: Took you all week to think of that didn’t you?
Jumping from the floor to the ring apron in one bound, he doffs his hooded long coat and steps into the ring. He stoically ignores as the referee checks him for foreign objects, instead glowering at Stevens across the ring.
Blackfront: Terror looks ready to go as he foaming at the mouth to get his hands on the former Wildfire champion.
Ace: Well the rabid dog is fixing to be taken behind the barn and put down like Old Yeller.
As the two announcers continue to argue about who is the better man Stevens takes this opportunity to stretch out on the ropes looking like he’d rather be somewhere else as the ring announcer leaves the ring and the official signals for the bell.
Ding. Ding.
Blackfront: Here we go folks.
Ace: I hope this match doesn’t put me to sleep.
Blackfront: What? You’ve been ranting and raving about how Stevens is going to whoop ass here tonight.
Ace: I know. But I can see Stevens putting on such an ass whooping that it gets boring.
The two men lock up with Terror getting the advantage with a knee to the ribcage of Stevens. Terror puts his knee to the gut of Scott repeatedly until he falls to the mat. The Iron Terror waits for his opponent to get back to his feet, and once Stevens is on his feet, he charges at his opponent and knocks him down with a shoulder block. Terror goes for a quick pin!
1
KICKOUT!
Blackfront: The Iron Terror tried to end this match fast.
Ace: He should have known he wasn’t going to win off of a shoulder block!
The Iron Terror gets to his feet and pulls Stevens up by the hair. Terror engages his opponent in a grapple only to send him crashing to the mat seconds later with a standing spinebuster. He goes for the pin again!
1
2
KICKOUT!
Blackfront: That was close! The Iron Terror almost walked out of here with the victory.
Ace: That was not close…Stevens was just playing with him.
Blackfront: You must be blind!
Ace: On the contrary my friend, I eat my carrots.
Terror gets to his feet and hovers over the Texan as he begins to move. Looking to build on his momentum The Iron Terror doesn’t waste any more time and grabs Stevens by the head to bring him to his feet. However Stevens has other plans as he lands a timely placed low blow to the groin of Iron Terror, sending the man to the mat yelling in pain, while the referee is out of position.
Ace: Now that’s what I call wrestling!
Blackfront: You’re repulsive!
Ace: Yeah, that’s what your momma told me last night!
Stevens spends his time recuperating while The Iron Terror finally makes it to his feet, still in pain from the cheap shot. The two men lock up in the middle of the ring with Terror pushing Stevens into the corner. Regaining some lost momentum, Terror begins a combination of machine gun chops and forearm shivers, which keeps the Texan pinned in the corner. Unwilling to give up this advantage, he continues to fire, alternating between the crisp thunder of the open hand and the lightning quick forearm to the jaw, until referee Willie Anderson wedges himself between the two foes. Bent over, and forcing all of his weight into the gut of The Iron Terror Anderson is unaware when Stevens catches his opponent in the throat with a shot to the throat.
Blackfront: Ouch! Looks like that cheap shot from Stevens hurt.
Ace: He’s supposed to be a tough guy, he will be alright!
Terror collapses to the canvas on one knee, but instead of capitalizing on the advantage that he has Stevens takes this moment to shake the cobwebs out.
Ace: What is he doing?! Come on Stevens, finish him!
Blackfront: Iron Terror looks to be in a lot of pain. He is holding onto his neck.
Terror slowly rises to his feet and tries to end the match with the 11:59 as he rushes in to what he thinks is an unaware Texan, but Stevens saw him a mile away and tosses him up and over him causes him to land throat first on the top turnbuckle.
Blackfront: Oh my!
Stevens rolls to the outside to catch his breath and put some distance between him and his opponent, but the now stirring Iron Terror notices and while still holding his throat and coughing in the center of the ring, a second wind seems to kick in. As Stevens leans on the apron The Iron Terror reaches through the top and middle rope, desperately grasping at the Texan. Unable to grab anything concrete, however, The Iron Terror has only left himself open, as Stevens pivots just enough to hook him around the head, and hit the Toxic Sting, rattling Terror’s jaw against his own shoulder, and slingshotting the injured neck across the middle rope.
Ace: Now that was a nice move! Stevens should go ahead and pin him.
Blackfront: You’re so insincere! The man is injured and Stevens continues to attack the injury. That is dirty!
Ace: Trust me, that’s not dirty. I can show you dirty.
Blackfront: I will pass.
An sinister grin forms on the face of Scott Stevens as he slithers into the ring, but before he can make the cover, Anderson steps in front of him, waving his arms, and pushing Stevens back towards the corner. As Stevens steps back to his neutral position, Anderson refocuses on Iron Terror, who continues to clutch at his throat, and roll awkwardly back and forth on the canvas before coughing up blood and it doesn’t take long for Anderson to make his call, waving for the bell to sound, and motioning for the medical team to come out.
Ace: Are you serious?!?! This isn’t boxing! This is wrestling; the referee can’t call the match!
Blackfront: Have some compassion man! The Iron Terror could be seriously injured!
Ace: So much for being a tough guy when apparently he’s made up of paper mache instead of iron.
Blackfront: Whatever!
After the bell has rung, the referee continues to check on Terror’s condition, as he curls up in the fetal position, clutching at his throat and coughing up more blood.
Jordan: The winner of the match by way of referee stoppage… SCOTT STEVENS!
The medical crew rushes down the ramp way wheeling a stretcher in tow. Meanwhile, seemingly unsatisfied with his victory, Stevens heads over to the corner where he reaches through the ropes and beckons for a microphone.
Stevens: Get this piece of trash out of my ring.
Stevens watches as the medical team strap down The Iron Terror to the stretcher but they don’t do it fast enough to his liking.
Stevens: I said.......
Stevens drops the microphone, goes over to Iron Terror and pushes away the medical personnel and punches the referees trying to stop him. Stevens picks up the stretcher and places it right side up against the ropes threatening to flip the stretcher over. More officials and now UTA agents come running down the ramp and slide into the ring telling Stevens to leave the ring or face a consequence. Stevens tosses his hands up and yells ok a few times and acts like he is going to leave but flips over the stretcher and Iron Terror goes crashing down to the floor as the medical team rush out to check on him. Stevens just laughs at the site while the officials and agents are screaming at him. Stevens laughs at his handiwork and goes over to pick up the microphone.
Blackfront: Who in the hell does guy think he is!? Where is security!
Ace: Now this is fun to watch!
Stevens: I told ya’ll to get that piece of trash out of my ring.
Stevens walks over to the ropes and looks down at The Iron Terror’s fallen and prone body.
Stevens: Jeff…….
Blackfront: Jeff?
Ace: Who the fuck is Jeff?
Everyone is confused for a moment as Stevens has a brain fart moment.
Stevens: I’m sorry I forgot…..
Stevens says as he rolls out of the ring and over to the Iron Terror. Anger begins to build up on the Texan’s face as he begins to knee the Iron Terror in the face with his metal knee brace before backing up a bit to run and drive his knee into Terror’s face.
Blackfront: Where the hell is security?!?!?!? This man is sick!
Ace: Iron Terror is the disease and Stevens is the cure.
Blackfront: Cobra? Really? The eighties called wanting their jokes back.
Ace: Fuck you.
After delivering the Don’t Mess With Texas running knee trembler, Stevens begins to undo the mask of the Iron Terror revealing it to be none other than…..
Blackfront: THAT’S JEFF ANDREWS!
Ace: What’s he doing back here? It isn’t December yet.
Stevens looks at the mask and spits on it before rolling back into the ring.
Ace: Jeff, you brought all of this upon yourself.
Stevens says but the boos from the crowd start to drown the Texan out.
Stevens: I can wait.
Stevens says drawing more ire from the crowd as they begin to throw trash at the Texan.
Stevens: This trash represents all of you here tonight.
Stevens says as he walks over to the ropes to look at Jeff Andrews being attended by EMTs once again.
Stevens: Jeff, I told you this would be your fate for sticking your nose in my business. You actually thought you had a chance against me? DO I LOOK LIKE FUCKING SANTA CLAUSE?!?!?!?!?!?
Stevens screams at the unconscious Andrews.
Stevens: I just proved to you, and the rest of those fucks from Defiance what happens when you come to UTA and cross me!
Stevens shouts as he points to Andrews.
Stevens: Not only did I beat you, I made you forfeit. That should solidify the proof to that idiot owner of yours…..that’s you Eric Dane.
Stevens says as he turns his attention momentarily to the camera.
Stevens: I proved to you Jeff that you don’t belong in UTA much less in the same ring as me and while you are in the hospital thinking, no wishing, you never should have made an enemy of me just know we are done. I told you since the beginning you weren’t in my league and that I would end your career if you pursued this and you’re barely alive as a result. Your fate should also be a warning to any of those other Defiance fucks who want to get froggy and see how big of a set they got. Jeff, when you wake up in a few days, talk to your buddies down in the Big Sleazy to save them the same fate as you because as far as I’m concerned the Scott Stevens pwning a has-been, never-was feud is over!
Stevens shouts and drops the microphone to the canvas and exits the ring and heads up the ramp and disappears backstage. EMTs, agents, and officials tend to Jeff Andrews and manage to get the stretcher upright and begin to wheel him up the ramp. As they reach the top of the stage Stevens comes running full speed from the back and grabs the stretcher and throws a strapped down Jeff Andrews to the unforgiving concrete below.
Blackfront: That’s a fifteen foot drop!
Ace: That’s all?
Stevens admires his handiwork as a smile forms across his face as he takes a moment to bid farewell to Jeff Andrews with a one finger salute before security comes to drag the Texan away.
Blackfront: The guy is sick!
Ace: I love it!
Fade.