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[TKOW Board]

"Got Wood?" Invitational
Known Entrants List

T.H. Power
Kid Styles
Johnny Styles
Spanky McPipebomb
Adrian Tanner
Brandon Young
Kaycee Tanner
Cypher
Dark Schnitzel
Crim
Nick Collyer
Jack Sullivan



Ring 2 List

T.H. Power
Johnny Styles
Brandon Young
Kaycee Tanner
Crim
Nick Collyer

[Nick Collyer]

V/O: New Jersey, America's ashtray, made famous by "Waste Management," and a semi-mute drug dealer. Oh, and it's where people can start over.

[Cue up an empty room, a naked lightbulb does it's best to light up what it can, but the corners are still shrouded in darkness a solitary empty steel folding chair stands over a gunked up drain. Pipes are seen jutting out of the concrete walls, and the floor forms a slight basin for that gunked up drain. A rusty door opens, the hinges squeeling for oil, and a pair of Doc Martin workboots step in.]

Voice: TKOW.

[A baggy pair of blue jeans stand above our discovered Doc Martins, and the camera slowly drifts upward.]

Once the butt of wrestling jokes, the also-rans, the new kids on the block, the whipping boy of pro-wrestling. Rated X mocked you, Robert Hunglestein the Third derided you. The UWA gods rained down their scorn and laughter, and died out. Like a giant cockroach you survived. UWA died, IWA soon after, and still TKOW survived and outlived their persecutors, and thrived, soaring to new heights. Crowning champion after champion, expanding so quickly...

[A black belt with steel studs appears, a long silver chain hangs from his pocket, the speakers hands are in his pockets, we see his forearms sleeved to the elbows with red and gold flame tattoos.]

...you needed a feeder federation. Men battled for pride, for hate, for love. New faces scrambled to the top, old legends fell away. You came in from the Outdoors and went On-line, everything was cherries and then...

[The broad chest of a wrestler fills out the Devil Driver t-shirt.]

...total collapse. Your home was taken from you, you where sent out into the wild like Moses of old, scrambling for sanctuary, lost in the wilderness until you found your promised land.

[A youthful looking man with a stubble beard and curly shoulder length dirty blonde hair stares at the camera. His blue eyes frosty, a slight smirk on his face.]

And a promised land it is. My promised land. My oasis from the desert.

[Nick Collyer nods at his own statement.]

You see. I too had everything. Beautiful wife, I was world champion of Syndicate Wrestling and Tradition. World Champion. Over guys like, Cobryn, yes, _that_ Cobryn, Stan Wilson, Dan Stein, Paul Soutter, "Rockin'" Rick Owens, and I held the title over all of them. All at the age of 24, then I was betrayed, accosted, and it was all gone. I was exiled to a Carribean island to swelter in it's unyeilding heat until I was told that I wasn't going to wrestle their either. I had no outlet for my pain. I spent days on end in my Bakersfield home, doing nothing but watching hour after hour of wrestling tape, feeling nothing, and then a letter showed up in the big stack of mail I hadn't bothered opening the letterhead caught my eye.

TKOW.

An open invitational with an optional contract.

[Nick raises his arms up as if staring into heavenly light brought down by the naked lightbulb in a storage room.]

The heaven's opened and mana came down. My promised land was in New Jersey. Put some chumps like Johnny Styles through a table, make some cash, and vent my pain. So I came to New Jersey looking for redemption, looking to claw my way back to the top of another mountain, and it all starts with Got Wood?

I'll just clear out some of the Cainites, or whoever the Isrealites had to wipeout to claim their homeland and settle in. The TKOW is Nick Collyer's home now, so don't touch the stuff in the fridge, and keep your dirty feet off the couch, the remote is mine, and there is nothing good on TV, but it's alright, Nick's home.

[Fade to black.]

V/O: Remember that one time I killed a guy? Yeah, but I didn't get called out on it because I talked about it after the fade?

Nick Collyer: Yeah Voice Over Guy, that was a pretty sweet deal.

[T.H. Power]

So there he was, just a walkin down the street, singin...

T.H. Power: I don't sing!

Well there was that time at MegaBowl IV...

T.H. Power: Screenshot or it didn't happen!!

Wha?!

T.H. Power: I'M IN UR PC STEALIN UR DRIVE!!

Drawing a total blank.

T.H. Power: Oh forget it.

So there he was...

T.H. Power: Shut up!

He was-

T.H. Power: I'm warnin you...

Sorry.

T.H. Power: So I put myeslf in the Invitatinal wanna fight about it look here people I don't want to have to get in one of those cages and do bodily harm to any of you.

Ok that's a lie. That Schnitzel guy really twists my knickers in a knot.

But the rest of you...

Ok that Crim guy, he needs a serious beating.

But I mean, everyone else in the thing...

Course those damn Tanner's. I gave that one a place in the Prince of Hell last year and he never showed up.

Ok that leaves half of you-

Though that Nick Collyer guy is six degrees of Kevin Bacon's knads away from those other people I don't like...

Alright there's a few of you-

Then again those Styles' have always been a damn thorn...

You know, now that I think about it, I want to do each and every one of you bodily harm.

Except that Sullivan guy. Never heard of him.

Everyone else buckle down, rear up, and get your affairs in order. The boss don't take no shit from his roster. I aim to beat the talent right outta each of you. And for most of you, well, not much effort needed...

Fade...

[Outer Force]

Crim

On Camera

The cameras open up to the all to familer scene of Brigandine Inc.s Main Office. The same office where 'Got Wood' Inventational competitor, Crim, sits, waiting for the day to come. He shifts a small coin in his hands around a bit as he looks off into the cameras.

I bet you never thought you would see me here again. Right? Well, I was contacted to come back for this inventational match for TKOW. So I accepted.

He then pointed at the cameras with a slight grin on his face.

But, going into it, I knew that I was the man for this. Who's in this? A bunch of people that I've known over my career, nothing much more than just a repeat of the past is all. Cypher? Don't he have some UHWF title to get or something? The Tanners? They're still around? I was wondering what Adrian was doing after SWAT shut down. The Styles are in there too? What is this? A family reunion?

He then pulls his arms back and smiles more at his comments.

Then there's the multiples of nobodies that will align this ring. All that matters to me is when I'm the last one standing, after all is said and done and the tables will be broken. I'll be the one standing.

After that, the cameras faded out to black, showing the end of the promo.

[Nick Collyer]

Crim man. You need to look around...

[The ragged voice of a man who has seen alot in his 25 years on this planet. He's been done over by federations, his ex-wife, and taken a whole lot of beatings for a man so young.]

...don't worry about who is in the other ring man.

[Adrian Tanner Jr. great athlete, but he can't, won't, absolutely will not win this invitational.]

Worry about me.

[Nick Collyer, bitches.]

Worry about paying off your medical bills when I flat out, straight up snap your neck OFF, with the Absolute Zero...

[Pick them like a Ganso Bomb, step over the dangling arms, kneel down causing what doctors call. "Oh Shit." I believe that's the medical term for what Nick Collyer does to people.]

...or pop your ear drum with a slap, just like I did to Johnny Styles in Australia. Dude wears a hearing aid and you can still scare him by approaching him from the left side. Can't hear you coming.

Just like Nick Collyer. I'm the tiger in the brush man. The Ghost in the Shadows. I'll kill you before you even know I'm there. Deader than Anna Nicole Smith. Call me Howard K. Stern, I'm going serial, starting in New Jersey, the body count will rise like the Zodiac.

So pay attention Crim.

Powers already knows what I'm about or he wouldn't have inked me for the big money, to put asses in those seats. I _made_ FTWO a household name. They screwed me over, and now their champion is rated number 1 in the all the world. See what I can do? I make careers, and end them in a blink of an eye.

So, if you are here to fill a roster spot, go ahead and dive head first through a table...

[A hand drawn diagram of someone going head first into a table.]

...in the end it will be easier for you.

[Nick Collyer smirks.]

Powers, step into my world, within your world. I'm Doctor Mindbender, what was yours is now mine. I'm putting your Long Shooting ass through a table, then I might just do it again for shits and giggles. I don't represent SWAT anymore, but if you want to see me as the banner boy for it, that's fine.

Watch SWAT destroy your company, if you want to see it that way. Watch Nick Collyer put your top stars through table after table, and stand high and tall amidst the rubble of your roster.

I don't see it that way, I see Nick Collyer, Sick Nick, a man alone, destroying everything that makes motion in front of these blue eyes. Man, woman or child.

It all comes down to odds, and my odds are Absolute Zero.

And those odds are damn good.

[Fade.]

[Nick Collyer]

[Nick Collyer is better than you.]

It's true.

[Better than Johnny Styles.]

Run that fantastic SLAP footage.

[Show a clip from SWAT: Australia of Nick Collyer slapping Johnny Styles so hard that a wetspot appears in the front of Johnny's tights, wetspot may or may not have been added at a later time.]

That's some classic bitchslap there.

[Better than Crim.]

Do we have footage of Crim?

[Someone who might be Crim eating alone at McDonald's.]

You know what? This will take to long with all the blurry effects and what not.

[Better than T.H. Power.]

What is that? Some sort of gimmick? Oh wait... _I_ get it.

[Better than Adrian Tanner Jr.]

Sure he's got the Superkick and teh awesome Revolver, but does he have this sammich?

[Ham and cheese on rye, I'm sure he can get one.]

Not this one though.

[Touche, but one equally good, if not better.]

Shut up.

[Make me.]

I don't have too.

[This is pointless.]

Just like everyone has figured out I guess. Being in the same ring as Nick "The Butcher of Bakersfield" Collyer isn't a picnic. It's not "fun," it's not enjoyable at all, unless your name is Nick Collyer or you are Joe or Jane Ticketholder seated from rows 87Z on up so you can really hear those kicks I'm giving out like candy at Halloween.

[Not the bite sized cheap-o candy either, King sized goodness.]

It's pretty basic, what I do. I kick you, punch you, and then kick you again. Your chest goes beet red, then a dull purple, you have trouble breathing, then I put you through a wooden table with any number of neat moves that are replicated by hackjobs all over the globe.

[Stuffed Falcon Arrow anyone?]

Screwdriver, bitch.

[You are correct, sir.]

I usually am. And Adrian only had half of it right, he and I are the only ones worth anything in this Invitational. Just that I ain't planning on letting myself out with a barrel of steel. No chance, Aids. You are going to pull the trigger and only fire blanks, because I'm Nick Collyer and there is nothing that is going to stand in my way back to the top.

Not you, not your best friend, not your pretty little sister.

[She's one fine piece of...]

Show some respect.

[I'm just talking about Kaycee.]

So chumpstains, step up the side and let the man go through.

[Fade to your own broken neck.]