"Twenty five, seventeen... Vennnnngeannnnceeee!"

The crowd hadn't seen Ezekiel in wrestling attire, or even come out 'properly', and so were relatively quiet when the lights went blue and centred on the entranceway. The entire stadium was almost silent as nothing happened for a second – and another second – and another second, before it was rocked by a huge burst of pyrotechnics from all around the TitanTron. The bright blue sparks dropped to the floor, throwing blue light onto a figure that had suddenly appeared in the entranceway: Ezekiel.

Obviously he'd hunted down another pair of sunglasses, as he was wearing them along with his leather trenchcoat. He took only a few steps, stopping once he'd reached the centre of the main platform, raising his head and looking around at the crowd before raising both arms above his head. It was surely going to become his signature pose, with his arms crossed at the wrists and thumbs holding the tips of his ring fingers.

He dropped his arms and began stalking down the ramp, ignoring the fans' screaming around him and the outstretched hands trying to grab onto his coat. Each step proclaimed that he was a man with an actual purpose, instead of just going to wrestle – he wanted in the nWo, and obviously he was going to stop at nothing to get it as he slid under the bottom rope. Ignoring the ref's hurried words to both wrestlers, he pulled off his sunglasses and tossed them into the crowd before shrugging off his coat and throwing it out of the ring.

"You ready, Benoit?" he asked, grinning as he revealed to the world what he wore when he was wrestling – the exact same thing as he wore otherwise; black leather pants (but not the sort that implied whipping, rather, the sort that implied he was cool enough to wear baggy leather jeans). "You haven't seen how big my balls are just yet." The grin changed into a smirk as he nodded at the referee, slapping his biceps as a sort of late warm-up.

The bell rang.

Nothing much happened for a few seconds as Benoit (a short, stocky Canadian) sized up his opponent (a tall, muscular American). The tattoo on Ezekiel's back was hidden from Benoit's view as they slowly walked around the ring, always keeping their eyes on each other and occasionally making threatening full-body jerks towards each other. The noise from the audience was slowly rising – one could almost feel the tension surround the two bodies in the ring.

Ezekiel suddenly broke the look of concentration on his face, grinning and suddenly bouncing off the ropes to clothesline Benoit. The crowd screamed as the match finally got under way, Benoit ducking Ezekiel's arm and using both feet to latch onto his and trip him up, sending his face into the mat. Both men rebounded quickly, jumping back up and staring at each other – now they knew their speed, but what about their strength?

There was only one way to find out: a good, old-fashioned showdown. Benoit stuck a hand out, waiting for Ezekiel to take it and accept his challenge. Ezekiel replied by sticking out both hands at the same time, gripping Benoit's and waiting to see if Benoit would respond with acceptance or a quick move. Luckily for both of them, depending on who you were cheering for, Benoit took up the challenge and began the test of strength.

They pushed against each other, each struggling for the upper hand – or, rather, Ezekiel already had the height advantage and Benoit was simply trying to push him back down to size. It wasn't a good sign that Benoit was visibly struggling, his muscles bulging, while Ezekiel simply stood and pushed back down onto him. There were a few muscles bulging where they shouldn't have been, but apart from that, he looked like he was in total control – until Benoit gave up and went for his speed.

He dropped, using his momentum to slide towards his opponent's feet and flip Ezekiel back-first onto the mat. The crowd jeered at Ezekiel as they both stood again, staring each other down without moving. It only took a second before Ezekiel's mind decided that it wasn't worth waiting and smacked Benoit on the face with an open right hand, knowing this was too important to risk the fist and possibly get disqualified.

Benoit replied in kind, sparking a pure fist fight until Ezekiel seemingly staggered back into the ropes, exploding back with a clothesline that knocked Benoit off his feet and onto his back. Benoit stayed down for the moment, looking up at the far-off roof while he tried to get some strength back into his body. He couldn't see why the crowd was cheering so much, but Ezekiel, who was turned towards the ramp, could.

Triple H, flanked by Scott Hall and Kevin Nash, was making his way down to the ring. He held a chair in his hands, but not the kind that could be used as a weapon – it was cushioned on the sweat and back, and he made use of that by setting up at ringside. Hall and Nash, not about to be stuck without furniture, went and fetched the two sets of steel steps, dropping them down to sit next to the Boss.

Ezekiel gave them a grin before being knocked in the back by Benoit, falling straight through the ropes and landing with a sickening thud on the concrete in front of the nWo. The three men looked down at him, blinking and not moving a muscle to help him as he winced and stood up slowly. "Boys," he grunted, grabbing a hold of the ropes and standing on the apron, turning around just in time to knee the oncoming Benoit in the stomach. As Benoit stumbled backwards, he climbed in through the middle rope, looking around for where the referee was.

He was behind Benoit, trying to see how Benoit was feeling – that suited Ezekiel just fine. He grinned and straightened up, giving the shorter man a wink before slamming a size 15 boot into Benoit's face. Benoit's head jerked as he fell backwards into the referee, who stumbled through the ropes on the other side of the ring and fell onto the floor in front of the Spanish announcer's table. The crowd booed, quite aware that this was a classic heel tactic and could only herald the coming of one thing – cheating.

Ezekiel laughed, resting back in the turnbuckle as he waited for Benoit to revive himself. The boys on the outside simply grinned and relaxed a little more, sipping a little beer and waiting for the next turn of events. They weren't disappointed as Ezekiel launched himself out of the corner and slammed his forearm into Benoit's face, even though that was a perfectly legal move. It was what came next that was illegal – a kick between the legs as Benoit twisted around. The crowd groaned in sympathy as Benoit doubled over, face contorted in pain for obvious reasons.

Performing a one-handed version of his entranceway pose, Ezekiel returned to his corner and waited for his opponent to get over the loss of the ability to reproduce. By the time Benoit was somewhat back to his usual state, the referee had crawled back into the ring and was looking around – he couldn't see the trace of any weapons, and that was always enough for any sports entertainment official. He gave the crowd an apologetic shrug before returning his gaze to the two competitors – Benoit was facing the same way as Ezekiel, his back to the man who was about to make his presence known.

As he slowly turned around, Ezekiel slowly broke into a grin and kicked him in the stomach, hoisting Benoit up and slinging the smaller man over his shoulder, wrapping an arm around Benoit's stomach (which was facing the ceiling). He bounced up and down for a few seconds, ramming Benoit's back repeatedly into his shoulder, his wide grin facing right into Benoit's unmoving head. The ref was unable to do anything but watch as Ezekiel completed the second half of his finisher – he wrapped his arms around Benoit's exposed neck and slung him off; not onto the canvas, but onto the turnbuckle, causing Benoit's body to bend sickeningly and the Benoit himself to bounce off and land on the canvas.

Ezekiel dropped to his knees, pressing his hands down onto Benoit's shoulders in an amazingly casual pin as he looked across at the nWo. The ref, albeit somewhat suspicious as to what happened, had no choice but to slap his hand on the canvas three times and call for the bell. The crowd couldn't help but cheer at a tremendous, if not entirely legal, debut for the young Ezekiel, who had pulled his hand away from the ref's and slipped out of the ring to stand in front of the nWo. "Well?"

Hall and Nash looked up, putting their empty bottles back on the concrete and grinning. "You're in, kid," the smaller Outside told them, grinning at Nash and standing. "Just don't get too cocky. No titles, no feuds, nothing above your station," he ordered him, picking up The Game's chair as the wrestler stood up to speak his piece about the newest member of the New World Order.

"Raw – you and Batista take on Benoit. We don't want him in the picture for a long while." Triple H flashed a grin before turning and walking up the ramp, the other three men following him up.

"Oh, and you get all the beer you can drink."