EYE OF THE SURVIVORS
BY
BOB WRIGHT
AUTHOR'S NOTE: As promised, here is the remainder of the Survivor Series card laid out in A Hart-Felt Thanksgiving; hopefully you won't find this too tedious.
All person's personas and personalities as seen in the ring are registered trademarks of World Wrestling Entertainment, Inc. And now, let's give some of the slightly lesser names their time in the spotlight as well...
NOT THAT LONG AGO, IN AN ARENA NOT THAT FAR AWAY...
"One minute to air, Gorilla, Jesse," came the director's count over the headsets.
"Roger, we're ready," Gorilla Monsoon fidgeted with his tie one last time. "Now where could Hogan have gone to?" he mused to Jesse Ventura next to him in the broadcast position, "He'd never miss a pay-per-view..."
"Well you don't know Hogan," the Body snorted with contempt, "He chickened out rather than face Ric Flair and his Million Dollar Team, and there's no..."
"Quiet on the set, thirty seconds to air," the director cut him off, "Twenty seconds; roll the ID. Air in fifteen, fourteen, thirty, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, cue McMahon and the opening package."
"Thanksgiving night, the perfect time for wrestling delight!" roared Vince McMahon's voice inside the control truck's voiceover booth as the opening played, "The World Wrestling Federation proudly brings you a Thanksgiving tradition, the Survivor Series; seventy-two of the greatest wrestlers in the world, fighting for the honor of surviving: team captains Tito Santana and Rick Martel lead the Mighty Matadors against the Model's Marauders! Team captains the Ultimate Warrior and the Honky Tonk Man lead the Ultimate Warriors against the Rock and Rollers! Team captains 'Rowdy' Roddy Piper and Earthquake lead Roddy's Rowdies against the Natural Disasters! A tag team extravaganza, the Legion of Doom's team against the Nasty Boys' team! And our big main event: team captains Hulk Hogan and 'Nature Boy' Ric Flair lead the Mega Powers Team against the Million Dollar Team! It's time to survive: IT'S THE SURVIVOR SERIIIIIIIIIIEEEEESSSSSSSS!"
"Cut to the arena," the director instructed, "And you're on, Gorilla, in five, four, three, two, one..."
"A packed house here at the famed Calgary Stampede Olympic Saddledome, this placed packed to the rafters, as the WWF brings you once again the Survivor Series!" Monsoon grandly declared as the camera blinked on in front of him, "Hello again, Gorilla Monsoon here along with Jesse 'the Pilgrim' Ventura," he frowned at his colleague's pilgrim hat, "And the big story at the moment, Jess, is the fact that the Mega Powers Team seems to have inexplicably disappeared just hours before this event, with no sign or word from either World Wrestling Federation champion Hulk Hogan or any of his teammates."
"He's a coward, that's what it is," Ventura reiterated, "Hogan's too much of a chicken to come out and fight like a man, even when his title isn't on the line. We'd better..."
"We'll keep you abreast of this story as it unfolds, and will pass along any information that comes to us when it does," Monsoon cut him off, "Fortunately for the Mega Powers Team, they were scheduled to go on last tonight, so whatever the issue here, there is time for them to get here to the Saddledome. We of course are coming to you from the great city of Calgary, which for many years was home to the famed Stampede Wrestling, run by the great Stu Hart, father of Intercontinental champion Bret 'Hitman' Hart, who is in fact slated to referee the main event match later this evening. Before we went on the air, the WWF held a reunion of sorts for the alumni of Stampede Wrestling here in the ring, and before we officially get started with the matches, we'd like to share that footage with you now..."
Down in the front row, Stu Hart was himself fidgeting nervously and glancing at his watch. "Come on Hogan, please try and get here on time," he muttered under his breath.
"He has time, darling," Helen tried to assure him, but she was starting to look nervous as well, as was the rest of the Hart family along the railing.
"Well, anyway, since the Boss Man's going to be in this match, we should probably try and get his attention after it's done," Alison proposed from near the end.
"I'll try, sweetheart, but that's a big if," her father acknowledged, "Especially since this is going to be a knock down drag out match, probably."
"Just like Rick Martel to get every hardcore brawler he could find, to cover up the fact he's the vainest pretty boy of them all," Wayne acknowledged, checking his program, "Well, the Boss Man himself is a human wrecking machine, and half the rest of Mr. Santana's team's just as good."
"Well I like the Model's team," Smith countered, taking a loud obnoxious sip of soda, "You can't go against pure muscle."
"Would that be because you have any money on them, per chance!?" Ellie glared him down. "Dad, you ought to know, before we left, Smith and Dean were in the closet, and..."
"Hold that, they're starting," Diana interrupted her sister, pointing to ring announcer Howard Finkel climbing into the ring, taking up his microphone just as the opening bell rang. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is our opening bout of the Survivor Series!" he declared to loud cheers from the capacity crowd, "Let me introduce first, the members of The Model's Marauders!"
The sound of a car speeding away blared over the loudspeakers, followed by Latino-style music. "Coming down the aisle," Finkel continued as the first combatant came through the curtains, "First, from Miami, Florida, weighing 287 pounds, Razor Ramon! Accompanied by his manager, Bobby 'the Brain' Heenan, from Tampa, Florida, weighing 270 pounds, Hercules! Accompanied by his manager, the Mouth of the South, Jimmy Hart, from Seattle, Washington, weighing 258 pounds, Greg 'the Hammer' Valentine! From Harlem, New York, weighing 255 pounds, Bad News Brown! Accompanied by his manager, Dr. Harvey Whippleman, from West Memphis, Arkansas, weighing 317 pounds, Sycho Sid!"
"I'm Sycho Sid, and I rule the world!" Sid yelled maniacally at the top of his lungs, ignoring the boos that accompanied the proclamation. Finkel waited until Sid, as the last one in line, had entered the ring, and the music had switched to a saxophone tune before concluding, "And, the team captain, from Cocoa Beach, Florida, weight 226 pounds, 'the Model' Rick Martel!"
"The Model looking supremely confident as he makes his way down the aisle," Monsoon noted at the broadcast position, "He's long stated he intends to prove to the entire world that it was he and not Tito Santana that was the driving engine behind Strike Force's success; given his actions since the team imploded, however, I'd have to lean towards the opposite being true."
"Well you've never had a shred of respect for him, Monsoon," Ventura grumbled, "I find Martel to be a true gentleman and an actual wrestling talent, not like Chico, who's just a brawler with no brains."
"I find that statement very much disconnected from reality as most people see it, Jesse. Martel climbing into the ring now, with a superfluous blast of Arrogance from that atomizer to announce his arrival. He's put together a tough team here, but he's got some tough competitors on the other side to deal with, and they should be coming out any minute now..."
Sure enough, a siren rose at that moment. "And now, the members of the Mighty Matadors!" Finkel declared just as the Boss Man shot like a rocket out of the tunnel, "First, from Cobb County, Georgia, weighing 305 pounds, the Big Boss Man! From San Francisco, California, weighing 271 pounds, Brutus 'the Barber' Beefcake! From Tampa, Florida, weighing 253 pounds, 'Mr. Wonderful' Paul Orndorff! From Charlotte, North Carolina, weighing 280 pounds, the Junkyard Dog! From Pembroke, North Carolina, weighing 258 pounds, Tatanka!" Again he paused for the music to change, this time to another Latin beat, before concluding, "And, the team captain, from Tocula, Mexico, weighing 234 pounds, Tito Santana!"
"Big applause here in the Saddledome for Tito Santana as he rushes towards the ring; no doubt, though, his mind must be somewhat conflicted right now, going against the man who was once his tag team partner and close friend," Monsoon surmised, "Strike Force of course were World Wrestling Federation tag team champions for about seven months, and the team looked unstoppable, but then came that terrible fallout at WrestleMania, with Martel getting accidentally kicked in the face..."
"What's all this 'accidentally' nonsense; Chico kicked him on purpose," Ventura insisted.
"There's absolutely no proof of that, Jesse, and if you've even bothered looking at the tape, it's as clearly an accident as you can get."
"Well I don't know what tape YOU'VE been watching, Gorilla, because the one I saw clearly showed Chico sucker-kicking Martel because he was jealous Martel was the driving force behind Strike Force and wanted to bring him down a notch or two."
"I highly doubt that-and for the last time, the name is TITO, Jesse..."
"Like I said, Chico..."
Monsoon groaned in frustration. "Both teams now in the ring; as you at home know, the captains choose who starts the match for their teams, and from there on it's regular tag team action. The Model's Marauders going into one final group strategy session, huddling together in the corner...or maybe not," he conceded as Bad News jerked backwards and angrily shouted at Martel, "I SAID DON'T YOU TOUCH ME!" "Bad News Brown already twerked off with his teammates, and I'm wondering, Jesse, whether he's too loose a cannon to be trusted."
"Never mind him, what about Mr. Wonderful? He can't seem to make up his mind whether he wants to work with Bobby Heenan or not."
"Well, only time will tell there. Looks like we're ready to go; whole lot of scores to be settled in this one, some of them going back quite a long way. We're starting off with the Big Boss Man against Razor Ramon; these two don't like each other much either..."
"Hey copper," Ramon called to the Boss Man in the ring, then contemptuously flicked his toothpick at him when he turned, "Tonight you learn what machismo does for me that it can't for you, chico."
"And tonight you learn to respect law and order, boy!" the Boss Man lunged at the Cuban immigrant and started thrashing him around. "Here we go, and the Boss Man going straight at it with Razor Ramon, hip tossing him into the corner," Monsoon started the call, "Now stomping on his chest and flipping him up over his shoulder. Boss Man off the ropes, drops the elbow, but no one's home. Ramon tags in Hercules, who grabs the Boss Man by the legs and starts stomping in that groin arena. Headbutt there, and look, Herc's going for the full nelson right away! Boss Man fighting it hard; that would be a major blow to the Mighty Matadors if he was eliminated right off the bat..."
"Darn right it would, and Chico looks worried already."
"Hercules pouring it on, but it doesn't look like he has those fingers locked there, and the Boss Man able to break the hold with an elbow to the chest; reverse knife edge, and then a suplex, and Herc's down to the mat. Boss Man tags in the Dog, who thumps Hercules good on the back; now he whips him into the ropes and drops him again with a forearm smash. Hercules crawling to his corner who tags in Bad News, who doesn't complain about being touched this time..."
"Well a tag's different, Monsoon; he knows the rules of the match, and that's fine by him."
Bad News plows straight into JYD, sending him backwards to the mat. Bad News dives into the Dog's chest; looks like a chokehold there. Referee Jack Lotz warning him to stop; a disqualification sends you out of here, of course. Bad News does stop, but then jams his foot down on the Junkyard Dog's throat instead...and holding it down pretty darn hard there...!"
"Hey, he's got to the count of five, you know."
"JYD reaching out, Tito Santana easily in range, makes the tag, but I don't think Bad News saw it. Tito going up to the top rope, here he comes-yes, topples Bad News to the mat! A cover: one, two...what a kickout there. Bad News enraged, swings and lands a glancing blow on Santana, who takes him down with a legsweep, and, it looks, like, yes, here comes the Figure Four Leglock! Tito has it hooked on, he's starting to...no, Valentine diving in to break up the leglock. Bad News back to the corner and tags in the Model, and here we go, the two members of Strike Force face to face again in the middle of the ring. Once they were as close as brothers; now, nothing but enmity between them, and is that a little regret on Santana's face there, Jesse?"
"Why should there be; he used Martel to get the tag belts," the Body grumbled.
"You have no class, Jesse; Martel's the one who took the partnership for granted-and Martel now sucker-kicking Tito in the chest!" Monsoon growled. "Martel laughing as he picks his former partner up and it looks like-yes, he gives him a piledriver! A cover: one, two...now Mr. Wonderful in to make the save."
"Why bother; Chico's going down anyway."
"TITO!"
"Whatever."
"Martel twisting Santana's leg, trying to make him submit that way," Monsoon rolled his eyes, "Tito reaching out, grabbing the ropes, and Martel reluctantly breaks. The Model pulls both Santana's legs back and slams him hard to the mat, now strutting confidently around the ring, winds up with the elbow drop...and misses; he wasted too much time!"
"That may well be the first major mistake of the match, Gorilla; he'd better tag out before Chico turns it to his advantage."
"Too late now; Tito tags in Tatanka, who of course has had a blood feud against Martel since the Model stole his sacred eagle feathers a few months ago-and Tatanka felling Martel immediately with a big tomahawk chop!" Monsoon roared in approval, "Kick to his chest, and an inverted atomic drop, and the Model is reeling. Martel stumbling over to his corner, tags Sid in, and Sid charges straight at Tatanka, who moves aside just like a matador. Sid into the ropes hard-and Beefcake lands a blow on his back from the apron..."
"That's a disqualification; send him out of here!"
"Tatanka takes Sid by the head and takes him down the line; each member of the Mighty Matadors gets a shot at the Sycho One. Now a...no, rake of the eyes by Sid, and a spinning kick sends Tatanka reeling backwards. Sid with a hard chop to the face...and whoa, what a chokeslam of Tatanka by Sid! Sid getting that wild-eyed look, picks the Native American Warrior up, places his head between his legs, now heaves him up over his head-Powerbomb!"
"SYCHO SID RULES THE WORLD!" Sid roared at the top of his lungs in victory as he got an easy three count.
"Well, even world rulers need a haircut!" Beefcake leaped in and gave him a hard right cross. "Barber with the jump on the Sycho One; Sid struggling to get back to the ropes, with Brutus attempting to lock on the sleeper hold," Monsoon leaned forward in his seat, "Sid flailing like crazy, but still manages to tag Valentine in. The Hammer with a blow to the back of the Barber's head, and the two of them stare each other down; these two also former tag team partners-world champion tag team partners, in fact-until Valentine stabbed Brutus in the back at WrestleMania a few years back."
"I wouldn't call it stabbing, Gorilla; Beefcake was incompetent, and Valentine simply got himself a better partner..."
"Valentine and Beefcake going at it full tilt now, trading hard blows back and forth, now Valentine shoves his former Dream Team partner into the ropes, and whoa, a lot of altitude there as he flips Brutus over his head. The Hammer drops the elbow on him, now hooking his throat on the ropes and pushing him down onto it; come on ref, break this up!"
"He's not trying to kill him, Gorilla, so give it a rest."
"Brutus gasping a little bit for air as Valentine continues applying the pressure, now jumps down hard on his upper back. A tag to Hercules, who hauls Brutus up and starts smashing his face into the turnbuckle: four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen...he's going well over the legal limit here. Finally Herc stops, flings him into the other corner, and charges in...and misses! Beefcake rushing back to his corner, tags in JYD; the Dog grabs Hercules and hip tosses him to the mat, now he assumes a three point stance, charges forward, and flattens him again. Hercules look around for his corner, but JYD picks him up again, flings him into the ropes, bounces off the far ropes, and wham, takes him down hard! The cover, one, two, three; Herc's out of here!"
"Hercules should have tagged quicker; he basically let himself get eliminated there."
"Down to five on five now as Junkyard Dog faces off with the Model now; Rick Martel slamming JYD's head into the mat, now pressing his foot down on the back of his head. Drops the leg on him again and again, now climbing up to the top rope; the Model taking flight and comes down hard on the Dog. A cover: one, two, and JYD kicks out. Martel whips JYD into the corner, now takes arm and tries to whip...no, Junkyard Dog reverses...Martel reverses again...and JYD slams the Model into the corner! Rushes...no, Martel moves out of the way in time. Tag to Razor Ramon, who picks the Dog up and gives him an atomic drop. Abdominal stretch, the Dog grimacing in pain..."
"If I were him, I'd give up; Razor Ramon knows how to make people submit."
"Junkyard Dog flailing, referee asking him if he wants to surrender, but he shakes his head no. Ramon lets him go, kicks him contemptuously. The self-proclaimed Bad Guy going up to the top rope, here he comes...wham! A cover: one, two...just missed the three count there."
"Junkyard Dog needs to tag or he's history, it's as simple as that."
"Razor Ramon confident now, flips the Dog into the ropes, flips him up high over his head; that was an awful lot of altitude there."
"Darn right; you and McMahon put Ramon down a lot, but he has quite a bit of power, as well as machismo."
"I'll grant that. Ramon measuring JYD, goes for another elbow...but nobody home! JYD rolling desperately towards his corner; Ramon grabs his legs and tries to pull him back, but too late, he tags Mr. Wonderful! Paul Orndorff rushes in and buries the Bad Guy with a series of hard chops. Now a swinging kick sends Ramon sprawling. Orndorff picks the Bad Guy up and big slam there, followed by a diving punch to the head. Orndorff grabbing him around the waist, I think he'd trying to turn him over for the piledriver...nope, Ramon squirms out of his hands. A tag to Valentine and the Hammer swings a hard blow, but Orndorff blocks it, and a kick to Valentine's chest. Mr. Wonderful flings him into the ropes and...leaps over him on the rebound, leaps over him again, and a diving tackle takes the Hammer down again! A cover: one, two...kicked out at the last minute. Paul Orndorff undaunted, off the ropes again...and Jimmy Hart grabs the leg from outside and trips him! Valentine scrambles over for the cover; no, not like this...!"
"Oh yeah, like this," Ventura grinned as Valentine got the three count.
"Mr. Wonderful gone, as Bobby Heenan merrily celebrates the defeat of his former ace Heenan Family protégé..."
"And who knows, Gorilla; the way Orndorff can't make up his mind, he'll probably be back with Heenan again at this time next week."
"The Model's Marauders with an advantage again. Boss Man in on the Hammer, picks him up and powerslams him before he can get set after the pin. Whips him hard into the corner, jumps up on his shoulders, and here comes the punches: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Valentine staggering, manages a tag to Sid, who barges in and immediately starts choking the Boss Man out; Boss Man shoves him away and, whoa, hard slap on Sid! Sid slaps him back and goes for the chokehold again; Boss Man choking back, referee warning them both. Sid forcing the Boss Man back into the ropes...over the ropes in fact; both men tumbling out of the ring! Boss Man and Sid rolling around on the floor, the count now going on outside-and here comes Harvey Whippleman, and he bashes the Boss Man over the head with his doctor's bag! Sid rolling back into the ring; the count at six, Boss Man stumbling around, he's groping for the apron, starting to climb up; Whippleman grabs the legs and trying to keep him out of the ring; the count's at eight, nine...Boss Man just got under the ropes in time. Unfortunately, Sid right on time of him, picks him up and slams him down repeatedly to the mat. Another chokehold by Sid, Boss Man kicking frantically, referee warning Sid again to break it..."
"He'd better be careful, or Sid might just break the neck."
"I didn't mean the neck, Jesse! Sid heaving the Boss Man up over his head, and flings him clear out of the ring, right by the Hart family in the front row..."
"Mr. Traylor, I'd like..." Stu tried to get the former prison guard's attention.
"Here he comes," Georgia's shout cut her father off, but came a bit too late for the Boss Man, as Sid leaped off the apron and pounded the Boss Man into the barricade. With a maniacal laugh, Sid smashed the Boss Man's face into the apron, rolled him into the ring and climbed up to the top rope. Laughing again, he leaped and came down hard on his foe. He hooked the leg, but only managed a two count. "Sid looking frustrated, shouting at the ref that he was sure that was a three count," Monsoon related.
"Well even if it wasn't, Boss Man in a whole heap of trouble here; I'd get to the corner and tag quick if I were him, Gorilla."
"Boss Man dazed, offering no resistance as he's flung into the corner; Sid charges in, goes airborne with a dropkick-look out, Boss Man ducks, and Sid kicks Bad News by accident!" he roared, "And look at Bad News, he's absolutely furious; Bad News Brown climbing into the ring with a murderous expression on his face; Sid backpedaling, looking terrified for once in his life; he's stammering that he didn't mean to do it; here comes Rick Martel into the ring, getting between his teammates, trying to calm the situation down...but no, Bad News shoves the Model aside, and...whoa, he gives Sid a chokeslam of his own! And now, yes, a Ghetto Blaster on top of it! Bad News Brown furious, heading back to his corner, and whoa, he decks Valentine and Ramon too! Bad News Brown climbing out of the ring, I think he's leaving!"
"Well that was an accident; for once, I think Bad News is making a mistake here."
"Bad News coming around, yanking the remaining members of the Mighty Matadors off the apron and decking each of them in turn; he hates everyone, and he's letting it show here-and now he decks the timekeeper and outside referee too! This man has serious anger management issues."
"He could get a big fine for this if he isn't careful; I'd get back in the ring and at least try and smooth this over if he can."
"Too late now, Jesse; Bad News Brown leaving the arena, randomly punching people along the aisle as he goes, and who honestly didn't see this coming? Every Survivor Series, the man walks out on his teammates for one reason or another."
"Well, that does need to change, Gorilla, or they won't choose him anymore, it's as simple as that."
Meanwhile, both Sid and the Boss Man lying in the middle of the ring; both their corners yelling for them to tag-hold on, the Boss Man getting up first, he sees Sid lying flat on the mat, he's crawling over, and yes, we have a cover!"
"Oh no, not like this...!" Ventura lamented.
"Yes, like this," Monsoon grinned at the chance to turn the Body's words against him once the Boss Man did in fact get a three count on Sid.
"Now that's not fair, Gorilla, he took advantage of Sid after Bad News's sneak attack...!"
"I'd hardly call a frontal assault a sneak attack, Jesse, and it suffices to say the Boss Man did nothing illegal at all here. At any rate, the pendulum has certainly swung towards the Mighty Matadors, who now have a four to three advantage. Ramon in now, kicking the Boss Man in the chest, now whipping him into the ropes and flattening him with a forearm smash. Razor Ramon oozing confidence, twisting the Boss Man's legs into a pretzel, Boss Man grimacing but refusing to cry out in agony. Ramon applying more and more pressure, Boss Man swiping at him, but out of reach. Finally Ramon lets go, jumps on the former prison guard's back, and starts...no, Boss Man rears up and bumps him in the most painful of places, and makes the tag to the Junkyard Dog! JYD barreling in, buries Ramon under a barrage of blows, now picks him up and slams him down. JYD off the ropes, dives...no, misses there. Razor Ramon to the corner, tags in the Model. Rick Martel in, gutwrench suplex of the Dog; the cover: one...Dog kicks out rather quickly there; rather nonchalant cover by Martel there. Martel flings him off the ropes, ducks under the Dog's clothesline, and...whoa, they both tag each other down on the rebound! Both men lying in the middle of the ring, their corners yelling at them to get up and cover, and it looks like...yes, Martel getting up, he's rolling over, and he's got JYD covered: one, two...no, just kicked out at the last second. Martel also complaining about the referee's count, and while he does, Junkyard Dog pulls him down into a crucifix; one, two...scissor kick by Martel breaks that hold. Action going fast and furious in this one, as we look at Tito Santana and the Big Boss Man on the apron, looking rather worried at the moment, the whereabouts of their teammates in the Mega Powers Rock 'n Wrestling Connection still unknown to us at this time; of everyone else on the team, only Roddy Piper's whereabouts known at this moment, as he's with his team, Roddy's Rowdies, backstage."
"I said it before and I'll say it again, Gorilla; Hogan just plain chickened out."
"Martel trying to get JYD up for a suplex," Monsoon ignored him, "but the Dog fighting it for all it's worth...and in fact JYD pulls him down instead, and we have the cover: one, two...Razor Ramon into the ring to break it up; referee cuts him off and herds him out...and look at this, Valentine in the ring behind the ref's back and rolls them over so Martel's on top, and he jumps out before the ref turns around, and here's the count again; give me a break!"
"Well, it's three on three now, Gorilla," Ventura smirked as the bell rang, eliminating the Junkyard Dog.
"Tito Santana into the ring in a flash, inverted atomic drop on his former partner right off the bat, and the Model goes reeling. Santana like a flash of lightning, up to the top rope, down and takes Martel down. One, two...no. Santana up again in a flash, flips Martel into the ropes, flips him high up over his head, wham, Martel lands like a rock! Now a backbreaker, and beauty; the Model now in a heap of trouble. Neckbreaker by Santana as well, another cover: one, two...again no dice. But now a rake of the eyes by Martel, who springs up to his feet, kick to the chest, snaps Santana over his shoulder, now drops the elbow on him, and he goes for the cover: one, two...no; that hand was just about to hit for three."
"If I were Martel, I'd keep pouring it on; don't let up on Chico for one second."
"Rick Martel doing just that, dropping the knee into Santana's chest again and again. He's looking a lot more confident now as he starts climbing up to the top rope, Martel looks down at his former partner with contempt and leaps...and nobody home! Santana back on his feet, grabs Martel's legs; is he going to give the Model a taste of his own patented Boston Crab? Yes, it looks like he is; Santana struggling to turn Martel over, and now he's got him over in the Boston Crab! Valentine and Ramon rushing in to break it up, but the Boss Man and Beefcake knock them down and hold them down! Martel in agony as Santana pours it on, he's reaching for the ropes, trying to get to the ropes...and he can't, and he taps out! Tito Santana has proven himself the better member of Strike Force!"
"No he hasn't; he wouldn't have gotten this if his team hadn't interfered!' Ventura complained.
"Even though Martel's team was coming in to interfere first? At any rate, the Model's Marauders have to finish the match without their captain, and it's Greg Valentine now grappling with Tito; these two of course long time rivals for the Intercontinental championship for several years, and now they're going at it blow for blow in the middle of the ring just like old times. Valentine shoves Tito backwards on to the mat, drops the leg on his chest, then hooks it for a quick cover: one, two, kickout by Tito. Valentine whips him into the ropes and plants the boot onto his face. Hammer drops the elbow now, off the ropes himself dives...and misses! Valentine quickly to his feet, grabs Tito by the legs and drags him away from his corner before he can tag Beefcake; is he going to try the Figure Four here?"
"I would; even if he fails to get Chico to submit, a well-applied Figure Four would weaken him good."
"Jimmy Hart in fact signaling for Valentine to go for it, and it looks like he is...but Tito kicks out hard! Santana crawling towards the corner, his teammates reaching out for the tag, but on the other side, Valentine tags in Ramon, and the Bad Guy gets to Santana before he can make the tag."
"All right, now we'll see who has the most machismo among the Latin wrestlers here in the WWF, and I'm willing to wager it ain't Chico."
"Razor Ramon whips Santana into the corner, charges and a big splash, snaps him over his shoulder, now going up and diving down on top of him. Off the ropes, Ramon sits down hard on Santana's head. Hooks the leg...and only a two count. Flings Santana into the far ropes...but Tito hits him with the elbow on the rebound. Santana goes airborne, and down on Ramon's chest: one, two...no. Razor Ramon whipped into the opposite corner, and now he gets splashed in turn. The crowd cheering Santana on as he hurls him horizontally into the opposite corner-whoa, Ramon almost went clear out of the ring there!"
"The Bad Guy needs a breather; I might consider getting out of the ring for a moment and letting Valentine take it for a while."
"Santana on top of him before he could do just that, and Ramon going into the ropes again, and...wait, he jumps over Santana's head, spins, grabs him, picks him up over his shoulder...!"
"Oh yeah, give him the Razor's Edge, Ramon; let's get Chico out of here!"
"Razor Ramon smiling with confidence, and here it comes-Razor's Edge! Forget about it!"
"And bye bye Chico it is," Ventura grinned at the three count, "Now both teams have to make do without their captains."
"Down to two on two now, Beefcake in next and he swings a...no, he pushes past Ramon and gestures furiously at Valentine; he still wants a piece of his former tag team partner. Razor Ramon obliging and tagging the Hammer back in. Valentine and Beefcake locking up, moving back into the ropes, while the Mouth of the South yells encouragement to his man over the megaphone. Valentine now with what appears to be a low blow there..."
"No, it's just the angle you're at, Gorilla."
"Irish whip into the ropes, and the Hammer downs the Barber with a hard left hook; he'd better not be using a closed fist there. Backbreaker and a beauty by Valentine, and Brutus in a bit of a hole."
"Yep, right now he's thinking, 'I'd better be careful what I wish for,' and 'Boy, Greg really WAS the driving force behind the Dream Team.'"
"Hip toss sends Beefcake halfway across the ring, Valentine charging in and a big splash on him. Cover...no, Valentine yanks him up; he's not done with him yet."
"Well he'd better get Beefcake out of that corner; those oversized hedge clippers are easily within reach, and Beefcake certainly wouldn't be above using them as a foreign object in a crisis."
"He would not use them like that...Beefcake flung hard into the corner; the Hammer in complete control at the moment, flings his former Dream Team partner into the opposite corner as well. Now a tag to Razor, and Ramon whips Brutus into the ropes, leaps over the rebound, then flips him really high in the air..."
"Wow, I've never seen a barber fly before, Monsoon..."
"Will you get serious!? Beefcake in serious trouble; Boss Man with his arm extended well into the ring, all but begging Brutus to try and tag, but Razor Ramon has him cut off on the far side of the ring, pounding away on his chest and face. Ramon going up to the top rope, and here he goes, down and a hard punch to the face that sends the Barber reeling. Ramon going up again, Beefcake trying to crawl away, but he doesn't appear to have enough momentum-wham, Ramon down hard on top of him...one, two, three; that's it for Brutus."
"Now, the question is, does Razor get to cut his hair now?"
"No way, and as you can see, the ring officials removing Brutus's shears as he's rolled out of the ring. Boss Man standing alone now, and he immediately jumps on the shoulders of Razor Ramon and starts whaling away at him, Ramon loses his balance and topples over; Boss Man still punching away; referee trying to pull him off, and does...and Ramon sucker-punches the Boss Man in the chest! Boss Man enraged, rushes Ramon into the ropes, whips him to the other side, and...whoa, there's patented Boss Man Slam! The cover: one, two...Valentine in to make the save. Boss Man shoving the Hammer away and drops the elbow on the Bad Guy. Now a slingshot into the corner, and a beauty. Boss Man whips Ramon into the corner, charges in-nope, no one home. Ramon rushing over and tagging in Valentine; the Hammer running in, but the Boss Man turns and belts him hard in the chest. Snap suplex sends him over his shoulder, and the Boss Man drops down hard on him-and there's a cover, one, two...no. Valentine into the ropes, downed with a hard smash. Now Boss Man gives him a big suplex, and a beauty. Boss Man off the ropes, big splash on the Hammer: one, two...just missed there as well. Valentine into the ropes yet again, no, wait, he leapfrogs over the Boss Man, swings and misses, and the Boss Man gives him an atomic drop; Valentine clutching his legs in agony."
"But Valentine has the benefit of being able to tag out; Boss Man's got to survive on his own."
"And the Big Boss Man looks up to the task with a hard overhand chop to Valentine's back. Starts to fling him into the opposing ropes, charges forward and takes him down again with another forearm smash, and...look at this, Jimmy Hart grabbing the leg and felling him; that's twice in this match-and Valentine again over for the cover! Razor Ramon diving off the apron and grabbing the other leg; they're holding the Boss Man down, no, ref, don't...!"
But the referee, not seeing Valentine's manager and partner doing their dirty work, counted to three, ending the match. "Here are the sole survivors, Razor Ramon and Greg 'the Hammer' Valentine!" Finkel announced the official decision to rampant booing. "Rather tainted victory here for the Hammer and the Bad Guy," Monsoon grumbled, "And Jimmy Hart ought to be announced as a co-winner as well; he helped eliminate half the Mighty Matadors!"
"A third of them," Ventura corrected him with a smug expression, "And I'd take that as a complement if I were Jimmy Hart; he's a wrestler's manager, actively helping his men."
"He's a lying weasel and you know it, and he's...hold the phone, Boss Man's got his nightstick, and he looks furious! Boss Man charging at Razor Ramon and Greg Valentine, chases them and the Mouth out of the ring and up the aisle; he may have been swindled, but he's going to get justice."
"What a sore loser; he should know working with the criminal justice system that the outcome isn't always the way you want it."
"But let's look at the replay here: Boss Man was doing just fine, and then that runt Jimmy Hart reaches in and trips him plain as day! And then both the Mouth and Ramon holding down the Boss Man's legs for all it's worth; shades of Bobby Heenan swindling the Ultimate Warrior out of the Intercontinental championship a while back. And speaking of the Warrior, he'll be featured in our next match; let's go backstage to 'Mean' Gene Okerlund, who's with the Warrior and his team..."
"Well, they gave it their best," Keith shrugged in the front row, but he nonetheless looked disappointed the match had ended the way it did.
"Well that creep Jimmy Hart needs to get his due some time; how long is he going to get away with trash like this?" Diana was more incensed, "I always have to live with the memory of him hitting Tom with the megaphone to help cost Davey the tag team belts, and he's going to keep on doing it until someone stops him; I think you should file a formal complaint with Jack Tunney on him, Dad."
"What good would that do, Diana; it's all about the money for Tunney," Bruce grumbled.
"No it's not, it's...!"
"Enough, enough," Stu waved his children silent, "I'm going to go back and have a word with Mr. Traylor about Mr. Hogan's absence."
"Pick me up another hot dog and popcorn while you're out, Dad," Dean asked laconically.
"You're not a cripple even with that dialysis machine; what's so wrong with getting it yourself?" Ellie ripped him.
"Well excuse me, sister; I didn't realize that some people have no sympathy for...!"
"How can I have sympathy for a compulsive gambler-especially one whom I'm sure raids his family's personal bank accounts, all of them, to pay his and his brother's addictions?" she glared both him and Smith down, "As I was saying, Dad, I found..."
"Later, Ellie dear; first things first," their father was already leaving to give the Boss Man the news. "You just can't win, can you?" Dean smirked at her.
"I can wipe that grin off your face in five seconds, Dean Hart!" she held a fist in his face, "And I will if you and Smith don't come clean when Dad gets back."
"Come clean to what? We haven't done anything wrong," Smith insisted with a phony grin, "Come on, Dean, I'll get you that hot dog and popcorn myself."
"Thank you; I appreciate a family member willing to actually show me genuine affection," Dean hefted his portable dialysis machine and followed his oldest brother up the aisle. "I'm just going to say it," Ross grumbled when they were gone, "How do we know THEY didn't forge Dad's name on that foreclosure notice?"
"Well, we're not here to accuse each other," Helen tried again to keep the peace, "We're here to enjoy the matches, and the next one should be starting pretty soon..."