Extreme Championship Wrestling - a '95 Til Story

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Brett

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Extreme Championship Wrestling - a '95 Til Story
ECW.png

1995 was a year where the landscape of professional wrestling began shifting beneath everyone’s feet. The bright lights and cartoon colors of the national giants no longer told the full story of professional wrestling. Audiences were restless, hungry for something rawer, something realer and the cracks of this rebellion were beginning in a South Philadelphia bingo hall. Out of the chaos rose a promotion unafraid to tear down the walls of tradition and redefine what wrestling can be. Extreme Championship Wrestling wasn't just another professional wrestling company, it was a catalyst for this changing of the guard.



Events:
09.05.1995 ECW Hardcore TV #124

09.12.1995 ECW Hardcore TV #125
09.16.1995 ECW Gangstas Paradise
 
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Brett

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Champions 09/05/1995
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
ECW World Heavyweight Championship
images_wrestling_titles_ecw_resized_ecw-championship-92-96__320x180.webp

The Sandman - 142+ Days (Hostile City Showdown 1995)
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
ECW World Television Championship
images_wrestling_titles_ecw_resized_ecw-television-championship-92-96__320x180.webp

2 Cold Scorpio - 10+ Days (House Show)
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
ECW World Tag Team Championships
images_wrestling_titles_ecw_resized_ecw-tag-team-championship-92-97__320x180.webp

Raven and Stevie Richards - 66+ Days (Mountain Top Madness 1995)
_____________________________________________________________________________________________


Roster 09/05/1995
Face | Heel | Tweener

2 Cold Scorpio
Axl Rotten
Big Dick Dudley
Cactus Jack
Hack Meyers
JT Smith
James Maritato
Jason Knight
Johnny Grunge
Konnan (AAA)
Mikey Whipwreck
Mustafa
New Jack
Pitbull #1
Pitbull #2
Raven
Rey Misterio Jr (AAA)

Rick Steiner
Rocco Rock
The Sandman
Scott Steiner

Stevie Richards
Steve Austin
Taz

Terry Funk
Tommy Dreamer
 
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Brett

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Kayfabe Diary.png

Kayfabe Diary #1: An Extreme Focus
Hey everybody! For those who I have spoken with closely about the '95 til project, it is no secret how much I have fallen in love with booking and writing the ECW shows of that project. Now I did not suffer from any amount of writers block when it came to the aforementioned project, rather a lack of needed focus on each individual product and the nuances that came with them. The fact that I was booking certain WCW or WWF shows with the main intention to finish them so that I could get back to booking Hardcore TV tipped me off fairly early that my heart was entirely in the land of Extreme and not elsewhere. Now the '95 til project is not dead and this is but an extension of that universe. What I have decided is that I will be booking a full year out of each organization, whilest balancing the consistency of the universe within each project. That does not mean two other BTB threads will open soon, rather I will be booking ECW from September of 1995 to September of 1996. Until that is complete then the project will shift to either WCW or WWF and so and so forth. @Stojy has killed the anthology form that is Pro Wrasslin' Biz and while I look to that project with such reverence, I also understand the difficulties of juggling different companies within a single project and balancing energy towards each of those. Sizing this project down will allow me to give undivided focus to each company broadcasted in this universe and as a sucker for long-term story-telling, this format could feed into some VERY interesting foreshadowing and plot development that aligns with why I started '95 til in the first place. If you are not caught up on the ECW shows I have already written, I have hotlinked those in the OP. I can not wait to resume this universe and look for the first individual ECW show either tonight or tomorrow morning.
 
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I'm glad you're just still booking for the most part. I thought maybe you had disappeared. Understand the difficulties of booking multiple companies for sure, so I don't mind this approach. The two Hardcore TV's you wrote (i just went and read them back) were fantastic, so if the quality stays that way, this is going to fast become one of the best things on the site.

Wishing you the best of luck with it, sir.
 
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ECW Gangstas Paradise
09.16.1995
ECW Arena, Philadelphia, Pa
Home Video Release
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Joey Styles:
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to ECW’s Gangstas Paradise! Where the blood runs thicker than the beer, where the chairs are always steel, and where the hospital bills might just be more than the money made at the box office! Oh my God, what a night we’ve got for you and if you thought ‘paradise’ meant palm trees and piña coladas, well… ladies and gentlemen, you’re in the wrong neighborhood!

We’ve got carnage, chaos, and more barbed wire than a Texas cattle ranch in our main event! Tonight, in our Carnage Cage Match, Public Enemy looks to prove once again they are the kings of concrete, but The Gangstas, well, they’re here to show everyone that their street cred isn’t just a catchphrase, it’s a way of life!

And that’s just the start! In a Fans Bring the Weapons Tag Match -yes- you maniacs at home heard me right. The Sandman and Tommy Dreamer will team up to take on one of the most sadistic duos we’ve ever seen: Cactus Jack and Raven. That’s not wrestling, folks, that’s going to be a crime scene!

Too Cold Scorpio defends the ECW Television Championship against Rey Misterio Jr. and if you’ve never seen Misterio before, trust me, this kid can fly higher than Scorpio after the puff, puff, pass. But -hey- Scorpio’s no slouch, he’s the man putting the ‘cool’ in Too Cold, but with Konnan at ringside, I may have my money on the newcomer!

The Steiner Brothers against the Pitbulls -power versus power! Somebody’s neck isn’t going to make it out alive, and I don’t mean that metaphorically!

We’ve also got an international showcase as Mikey Whipwreck -our lovable underdog who still can’t buy a drink without showing ID- goes up against the self-proclaimed Mexican revolution, Konnan! And for those of you who like your wrestling technical, clinical, and pure James Maritato against Jerry Lynn is going to be a wrestling class in the middle of all this chaos!

So strap yourselves in, because ECW doesn’t just change the game, we blow it up, set it on fire, and ask you to cheer louder----

Joey looks past the camera and motions down to the ring from the eagle's nest

What the hell is going on down there, who is that?"
ECW divider.png

A Stunning Debut

'Stunning' Steve Austin comes from the crowd, hops the guardrail, and slides under the bottom rope. Despite showing off a fairly strong, Austin appears to be fairly disheveled.

Steve Austin 11.jpg
'Stunning' Steve Austin:
"Stunning Steve Austin is here, and that means business is about to pick up! You see, ever since I was robbed -absolutely robbed- of the WCW United States Heavyweight Championship, I’ve been sitting at home, waiting for my phone to ring. And you know what? I finally decided, I ain’t sittin’ no more, jack! I’m takin’ my title back, I’m walking right back into WCW, and I don’t give a damn who’s standin’ in my way, whether it’s Sting, whether it’s that big goof Hogan, or whether it’s the corporate fat boy Eric Bischoff! The fact is, Stunning Steve is the rightful U.S. Champion!”

The ECW crowd has no idea how to react to this, not knowing where this is going they erupt individually most yelling "THIS IS ECW" chant.
'Stunning' Steve Austin:
Shut your mouths, I know exactly where I’m at -WCW, live and in living color, jack! I can smell Turner’s money in the air! Don’t you dare tell me different! This right here… this is where the big boys play, and I’m the biggest, baddest one of ‘em all! Stunning Steve Austin ain’t no midcarder, ain’t no opening act, I’m the main event, and I’m takin’ back what’s mine!”

The crowd is both jawing at Austin and whimsically laughing realizing that Austin is in a complete delusional state where he actually thinks he's in WCW.
'Stunning' Steve Austin:
"I tell you what, ol’ Bischoff sure let this dump go to hell since the last time I was here… but it don’t matter. Wherever I am, the fact is Stunning Steve Austin runs the show, and soon enough, the United States Heavyweight Championship is coming home back around this waist where it belongs! And if anybody in that locker room, wants to get in my way, you’re gonna get stomped out and dropped flat by the real star of this company… STUNNING Steve Austin!"

Austin looks a bit befuddled as he walks down the aisle towards the locker room and looks at the metal stanchion that is the entrance way for ECW.
ECW divider.png

James Maritato vs. Jerry Lynn
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Jerry Lynn 1.jpg

James Maritato and Jerry Lynn entered to generic music, but their body language told a different story than their lack of star power might suggest. Both men stepped into the ECW Arena with intensity in their eyes, shaking off nerves and showing respect, ready to prove themselves.


~Match Start~

The two young technicians circled and locked up in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, neither man budging. Maritato used his leverage to transition smoothly into a hammerlock, cinching it in tight and slowing grounding Lynn. He grinded the arm down into the back of Lynn, who was face down on the mat.

Jerry Lynn grimaced, fighting his way back to his feet, and in one fluid burst flipped forward into a handspring, snapping free of Maritato’s grip. He immediately countered with a side headlock takeover, bringing Maritato to the mat and clamping down on Maritato's ear hard.

Maritato hammered forearm shots into Lynn’s ribs, forcing separation, then shoved him into the ropes. Lynn rebounded - only to get flattened by a stiff shoulder block.

Maritato hit the ropes, but Lynn dove low for a trip. Maritato leapt clean over, but Lynn popped back up and connected with a beautiful dropkick that sent Maritato tumbling to the outside.

Lynn wasted no time. He scaled the top turnbuckle, steadied himself for a heartbeat, then dove off with a soaring plancha, crashing onto Maritato on the floor. The crowd exploded into an “E-C-W! E-C-W!” chant as both men writhed on the concrete.

Dragging Maritato back into the ring, Lynn covers

COVER 1.....2..... kick out at 2.5!

From there, Maritato recovered quickly and shifted gears. He latched onto Lynn’s left arm, twisting it, bending it, and dropping repeated knees across the elbow joint. He slammed Lynn’s arm against the mat with malicious precision, every movement methodical. He whipped Lynn into the corner, then charged with a running forearm to the same arm, leaving Lynn clutching at it.

Lynn tried to fire back with desperation strikes, but every blow weakened him further as Maritato kept tearing at the arm. A short-arm clothesline dropped Lynn, and Maritato floated over into an armlock, wrenching back while staring dead into the ringside camera.

Lynn fought to his feet again, catching the crowd’s energy. He fired a few shots, ducked a lariat, and nailed a spinning heel kick, dropping Maritato.

COVER 1.....2... kick out a 2.3!

Both men spring up from the pin attempt and Lynn goes for a tilt-a-whirl headscissors - but Maritato countered, planting him hard flat on his chest on the mat and immediately snatching the injured arm.

In one fluid motion, Maritato dropped to the mat, locking Lynn in a Fujiwara armbar dead-center of the ring. He cranked back violently, wrenching at the shoulder. Lynn screamed in pain, clawing for the ropes, but there was nowhere to go. The referee called it — Lynn tapped out.

James Maritato wins by Submission with the Fujiwara Armbar at 8:10
Maritato held onto the hold a bit after the bell and referee Jim Molineaux fights with Maritato to break the hold.

James Maritato had his hand raised in victory as Lynn clutched at his arm in frustration. Maritato lingered for a moment, emphasizing his ruthlessness, before leaving the ring to respectful applause from a divided but energized ECW crowd.
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Konnan vs. Mikey Whipwreck
Konnan 10.jpg
Mikey Whipwreck 8.jpg


Konnan strutted through the curtain first, decked out in full cholo gear - bandana tied tight, flannel buttoned only at the top, and sunglasses masking his eyes - radiating swagger with every step as he bounces with the chicano rap playing. He jawed with the fans lining the aisle, brushing off their jeers with a smirk, his confidence unshaken as he slid into the ring like he owned the place.

Mikey Whipwreck emerged to a raucous ovation, wide-eyed and almost bewildered at the reaction, as if he still couldn’t believe he belonged on this stage. Dressed in his simple tee and worn-out tights, he shuffled nervously toward the ring, slapping hands with the fans but looking every bit the underdog about to be fed to the wolf.


~Match Start~

The bell rang and Konnan didn’t waste a second, rushing Mikey with a stiff forearm smash that dropped the underdog to his knees. The swaggering rudo took his time, jawing with the front row before stomping at Mikey’s head and yanking him up by the hair. Every time Mikey tried to fire back - whether it was a desperate punch or a scrappy grab at Konnan’s leg-he was cut down by a clubbing blow or a boot to the midsection. Konnan made a spectacle of it, choking Mikey on the ropes until the referee nearly had to pry him off, then whipping him hard into the corner and leveling him with a roll into clothesline that nearly turned Mikey inside out.

Dragging the fight out to humiliate the local favorite, Konnan paused mid-match to spit on the canvas and sneer at the crowd before hoisting Mikey up for a delayed suplex, letting the blood rush to his head before slamming him down. Mikey barely managed to survive a cover at two, the audience rallying with chants of his name, but Konnan cut the momentum cold with an eye rake and a low kick the referee didn’t catch.

Finally, after toying with him for minutes on end, Konnan twisted Mikey up, dropped him flat, and locked in the Tequila Sunrise with vicious torque. The submission was immediate - Mikey had no choice but to tap - and Konnan refused to release right away, adding insult as the jeers rained down.


Konnan wins by submission with the Tequila Sunrise in 5:50
Arms raised, bandana cocked, and attitude dripping, Konnan strutted out of the ring, making it clear that this was only the beginning of his mission in ECW.
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#1 Contendership Match for ECW World Tag Team Championship:

The Pitbulls (Pitbull #1 and #2) vs. The Steiner Brothers (Rick and Scott Steiner)
Pitbull #1 2k3.jpg
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Rick Steiner 7.jpg
Scott Steiner 91.jpg


~Match Start~

The match begins with Pitbull #1 and Rick starting things off in a tense opening sequence. Both men circle each other cautiously, testing their strength and timing, with a flurry of quick punches and forearms exchanged in the center of the ring. Pitbull #1 tries to catch Rick off-guard with a vicious lariat attempt, but Rick ducks and responds with a sharp hip toss, sending his opponent flat on his back. Pitbull #1 scrambles to his feet, attempting another clothesline, but Rick sidesteps, and the Pitbull crashes chest-first into the turnbuckle. The opening sequence escalates with a series of quick strikes between the two, each man narrowly escaping defeat as the crowd roars for every exchange. Finally, Pitbull #1 tags out to Pitbull #2 as Rick tags in Scott, giving each team a fresh set of legs to continue the contest.

Scott enters the ring with energy, immediately engaging Pitbull #2 in a fast-paced back-and-forth sequence. They trade arm drags, takedowns, and forearm strikes, with Scott eventually hitting #2 for a sudden back body drop that sends him tumbling toward the apron. #2 rolls out of the ring to regroup, but Scott follows up with a daring top rope plancha, slingshotting himself over the ropes and crashing onto #2 on the outside, drawing a massive reaction from the crowd. Rick and #1 jump off the apron and brawl around the ring with hard-hitting punches, chops, and any other vicious strikes they can come up with. The intensity growing as the ref can barely manage keep the action contained. Scott eventually rolls #2 back into the ring and goes for the cover

COVER 1... kick out at 1.5

Scott sets up for one of his high-risk maneuvers, sending #2 off the ropes and attempting a leaping frankensteiner on the return, only to be caught mid-air. #2 uses his leverage to stretch Scott into a Boston crab. After struggling for about 30-45 seconds in the hold, Scott shows his resilience, crawling desperately across the ring to reach Rick and tag him in. Rick explodes into the match, bulldozing his way through Pitbull #2 with a series of shoulder tackles and stiff strikes, only to hit him with a big spinebuster that leaves #2 dazed. Eventually, #2 makes the tag to #1, who storms the ring to face Rick’s relentless offense. Rick catches the storming #1 with a huge overhead belly-to-belly suplex, followed by a crisp German suplex that sends the Pitbull crashing to the mat.

Feeling the crowd behind him, Rick begins to taunt, pointing at the fans and yelling out, confident in his dominance. #1 stumbles to his feet, but Rick quickly cuts him down with a running powerslam, showing he’s in complete control of the match.

Scott and Rick are in perfect rhythm as Rick tags Scott back into the ring, the crowd cheering wildly for the Steiner brothers. Scott explodes across the ring, knocking #2 off the apron with a vicious shoulder check, then hoists #1 up onto his shoulders in an electric chair position, muscles taut and eyes blazing, preparing for the iconic Steinerizer. Rick ascends the top rope, poised to leap into a bulldog that would floor any opponent, when #2 suddenly rockets in from the outside, springing onto the apron and catapulting Rick off the top rope with a bone-crunching crash through a table. The arena erupts in a mix of awe and horror as the referee frantically raises the X, EMTs rushing in as Rick writhes in agony, his leg clearly broken.

Scott, face etched with concern, is peering over the top-rope checking on his brother, only to be blindsided by #2 sliding into the ring like a viper and cracking scott with a forearm to the back of the head. Pitbull #1 climbs the second turnbuckle, eyes wild, as #2 drags the stunned Scott into position. The crowd rises to its feet, the tension unbearable, as Pitbull #1 hoists Scott onto his shoulders, cocking back for the super powerbomb. With a thunderous slam from the top rope, Scott crashes to the mat, the impact reverberating through the arena like a shockwave. #1 hooks the leg, and the referee counts

COVER 1..2..3
Pitbulls win by pinfall with the Pitbull Powerbomb in 11:10
Cementing a jaw-dropping, brutal, and unforgettable victory for the Pitbulls, leaving the audience in stunned, electrified silence. Rick was seriously injured and had been taken off into the backstage area before the celebrations began for the Pitbulls.

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ECW World Television Championship Match:
Too Cold Scorpio (c) vs. Rey Misterio Jr. w/ Konnan

2 Cold Scorpio 94.jpg
images_wrestling_titles_ecw_resized_ecw-television-championship-92-96__320x180.webp
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Too Cold Scorpio makes his way to the ring first with the ECW TV Title slung loose over his shoulder, moving with that easy, effortless swagger that only he has. Coming out to a new song "Fantastic Voyage" by Coolio, matching more of the low-key, jazzy vibe that Scorpio carries. He points to the belt, bops to the beat, and breaks into his signature dance steps, firing up the Philly crowd with every smooth move. The gold glistens under the lights as he pauses mid-dance to throw a cocky smirk into the hard camera, letting everyone know this is his house tonight.

Rey Misterio Jr. makes his entrance with Konnan close at his side, the youngster slapping a few hands and bouncing with wide-eyed energy as the crowd pops for his presence. Just as Rey looks ready to run full tilt into the fans’ adoration, Konnan pulls him back, keeping him grounded and focused, steering him toward the ring with a commanding presence. The contrast is clear - Rey’s youthful fire balanced by Konnan’s veteran edge and authority. Even more evidenced by Rey coming out to Konnan's Cypress Hill music.

~Match Start~

Rey Misterio Jr. burst out of his corner with a flash of speed, darting straight at Too Cold Scorpio. Scorpio, cool and calculated, dropped low and slid smoothly to the side, letting the charging Misterio fly past. Rey never lost a step - he hit the ropes with feline agility, leaping up in a single bound onto the top strand. Without hesitation, he backflipped off in a picture-perfect arc, landing on his feet with that uncanny balance that made the ECW faithful erupt. He didn’t need to gesture or taunt; the way he turned, glancing back over his shoulder at Scorpio with quiet menace, told the whole story.

They lunged forward at the same moment, colliding shoulder to shoulder. Neither man budged an inch.

Scorpio smirked, then hit the ropes. Rey ducked low on the return, slipping beneath Scorpio in a graceful fake trip. But Scorpio was always one step ahead - he sprung to the second rope in a heartbeat, launched into a high arching backflip, and landed flush on his feet in the center of the ring, mocking Misterio's earlier flip. Without missing a beat, Scorpio dropped into one of his signature dance moves, the swagger oozing from every bounce of his dance moves.

On the floor, Konnan’s face fumed with frustration, pounding the mat and shouting in Spanish at Misterio to focus. Rey looked on with his head cocked slightly, a look of defiance in his eyes, watching Scorpio play to the fans with his swagger. The atmosphere had shifted - the contest wasn’t just about moves anymore. It was about pride.


Rey lunged forward again, colliding shoulder-to-shoulder with Scorpio, but this time he bounced back just enough to create space. He darted toward the ropes, rebounding with lightning speed, and spun into a tilt-a-whirl arm drag that sent Scorpio sailing through the air and tumbling out of the ring. The crowd jumped to its feet, roaring as Scorpio hit the floor.

Rey wasn’t about to slow down. He shot to the opposite ropes, sprinting across the ring and springboarding forward for what looked like a suicide dive - but at the last split second, he noticed Scorpio ducking down to avoid impact. Rey adjusted on the fly, flipping forward with the aid of the ropes, twisting gracefully and landing upright on the apron. The move looked effortless, a dazzling flash of lucha ingenuity.

Scorpio looked up from his crouch, thinking he’d outsmarted Misterio, only to be crushed a heartbeat later by a flying crossbody from Rey off of the apron. Both men crashed over the guardrails, the force knocking them over into the sea of fans. The ECW Arena exploded with chants of “E-C-W! E-C-W!”

But Rey wasn’t satisfied - not even close. He popped up almost instantly, feeding off the chaos, and sprinted back into the ring. That’s when Konnan slid under the ropes, eyes wide with a wild idea. He hoisted Rey high above his head in a military press, parading him for a second, then hurled him like a missile over the guardrails. Misterio’s body crashed down across Scorpio in the crowd with another devastating crossbody. The building shook. Konnan, though, ruined the magic - clapping his chest, taking bows, pointing at himself as if he were the mastermind. The fans booed thunderously, showering him with insults. The referee quickly intervened, shoving Konnan back to the floor and forcing him out.

After about a minute of recovery, both Scorpio and Misterio crawled back into the ring, battered but unwilling to stop. Rey seized control, whipping Scorpio off the ropes before vaulting into the air and snapping off a flawless release hurricanrana. He dives ontop of Scorpio into a loose body press for the cover.

COVER 1…2…kick out at 2.5!

The crowd was molten. Misterio had them eating from his hand, while Scorpio's usual calm and collected swagger looked shaken for the first time, struggling to rise up to the occasion.

Rey pressed the advantage, darting forward to catch Scorpio with another tilt-a-whirl headscissors, whipping him across the mat. As Scorpio staggered upright, Rey ascended the top rope in a blink, balanced, then launched with a diving hurricanrana that sent Scorpio tumbling out to the floor once more. The ECW Arena was completely unglued now, every single fan on their feet.

Rey wasn’t done. He slid onto the apron, took one breath, and flung himself forward, hooking Scorpio’s head mid-flight for yet another hurricanrana. This time he spiked Scorpio straight onto the concrete floor, the thud audible, leaving Scorpio flat on his back while the arena turned into a madhouse of chants and disbelief.

Rey dragged Scorpio off the floor, rolling him back into the ring, determined to keep his frantic pace alive. But as Rey slid in behind him, Scorpio finally bought himself a moment to breathe. Just as Misterio reached forward, Scorpio snapped upward with a sharp toe kick that buried itself into Rey’s midsection. The crowd popped with surprise - this was the first real offensive spark from the champion all night.

Scorpio seized the opening. He lifted Rey across his shoulders in an over-the-shoulder powerslam position, hoisting the smaller man with ease. With a grunt, Scorpio charged forward and slammed Rey flat in the center of the ring, rattling the canvas.

Wasting no time, Scorpio grabbed Rey again and slung him back over his shoulder - this time in a reverse powerslam position, Rey’s back draped across Scorpio’s right side, Scorpio roared, charging across the ring before stampeding Rey straight into the turnbuckles. Rey’s body whiplashed awkwardly, and he wound up crotched painfully on the top turnbuckle, draped forward like a ragdoll,

The audience murmured now, torn in their loyalties. They loved Scorpio, the champion with style and charisma, but they couldn’t help but marvel at Rey’s breathtaking moves earlier. Now, they were unsettled, watching Scorpio’s newfound aggression.

Rey leaned helpless over the corner, and Scorpio capitalized - bolting across the ring and drilling a stiff running dropkick into Rey’s back. The impact launched Misterio forward, flipping him violently off the top turnbuckle and slamming him flat on the mat below. Scorpio dove onto him, hooking the leg.

COVER 1…2…kick out at 2.5!

The building buzzed - Rey was still alive, but the champion wasn’t about to stop. Scorpio peeled him off the mat, powered him up into position, and drove him down with a crushing running powerbomb. The arena exploded from the sheer impact, Scorpio folding Rey in half before holding him down for another pin attempt.

COVER 1…2…kick out at 2.75!

The ECW faithful roared in disbelief, standing and clapping as Misterio showed the same resiliency they normally only associated with their beloved hardcore brawlers. Scorpio shook his head, finally realizing he was in for a war.

Scorpio bent low, snagging Rey’s legs and flipping him over into a tight Boston crab. Sitting back with all his weight, the champion cranked on the small of Misterio’s back, grounding the high-flyer and smothering the very essence of his game. The ECW Arena rumbled - at first cheering the sheer intensity, but slowly turning on Scorpio. The fans had been mesmerized by Rey’s lightning offense, and now it felt like their hero was being smothered.

Rey clawed at the mat, pain etched across his masked face, his tiny frame writhing. The ECW faithful clapped in rhythm, stomping the bleachers, rallying behind him. With every ounce of energy, Misterio crawled forward, fingertip by fingertip, finally reaching the ropes. Just as he grabbed hold, Konnan yanked him down to the floor, saving his protégé from more punishment.

That was all the opening Scorpio needed. The crowd’s boos lit a fire in him. He took a running start, leapt to the top rope with flawless balance, and catapulted himself to the outside with a breathtaking crossbody splash, crashing down on both Misterio and Konnan. The ECW Arena erupted, their love for Scorpio reignited by sheer spectacle.

Wasting no time, Scorpio hurled Rey back into the ring and dragged him centered perpendicular to one of the four turnbuckles, perfectly placed for something devastating. Ascending to the top turnbuckle, Scorpio steadied himself, paused just long enough for the crowd to buzz, and then unleashed a jaw-dropping 450 splash. He smashed into Misterio chest, covering instantly.

COVER 1…2…KICK OUT AT 2.9999!

Scorpio sat up, eyes wide in disbelief, staring down at Rey who somehow still lived. The crowd was losing it, every single fan now on their feet, “E-C-W!” chants shaking the building.

Determined, Scorpio climbed again - this time with his back to the ring. The lights glistened off his sweat as he launched himself backwards, hitting a picture-perfect moonsault, crushing Misterio beneath him with every ounce of his weight. He hooked the leg tight.

COVER 1…2…KICK OUT AT 2.9999!

Scorpio slapped the mat in frustration, disbelief etched all over his face. The arena was white hot. He yanked Rey up, muscling him into position for a powerbomb. BOOM! The first one rattled the mat. Scorpio refused to let go, rolling Misterio’s limp body back up - BOOM! The second powerbomb thundered through the Arena. The crowd gasped as Scorpio signaled for a third, hoisting Rey up once more.

But in the blink of an eye, Misterio twisted his body in midair, snapping Scorpio down into a hurricanrana, this time hooking the leg tightly for a pin attempt!

COVER 1…2…KICK OUT AT 2.9999!

The Arena was in chaos, split between awe for Misterio’s fight and Scorpio’s tenacity. Both men lay on the mat, exhausted, the fans giving them a standing ovation as the war raged on.


Scorpio’s face twisted with pure fury, sweat dripping down his entire body, completely spent from this intensive match. Rey Misterio was still moving - still alive - and it was driving him insane. Scorpio’s gaze landed on a table propped against the guardrail. The crowd erupted with anticipation, knowing exactly what was on his mind.

He dragged Rey up by the mask, buried a knee deep into his midsection, and hoisted him high into a splash-mountain powerbomb position. Scorpio hesitated for just a second, almost questioning if this was too far, if Misterio was even human. Then, with a roar, he launched Misterio clear over the ropes. Rey’s tiny frame crashed neck-first through the table, exploding it into splinters as the arena gasped in horror.

Scorpio threw his arms up, pleading with the referee, screaming to count him out. The official began the slow count, the fans at fever pitch. Rey lay motionless among the splintering wreckage. As the referee’s hand crept closer to ten, Konnan - still dazed from earlier - dragged himself up, saw the situation, and in desperation rolled Misterio back inside the ring. Rey’s body flopped into the ring lifelessly, but he was safe from the count.

Scorpio dove onto him for the cover.

COVER 1…2…KICK OUT AT 2.9999!

The arena shook with disbelief. Scorpio’s eyes went wide, bordering on madness. Snarling, he dragged Misterio’s carcass back to the middle of the ring. With a deep breath, he climbed the turnbuckles, each step deliberate. Standing tall, he launched himself into the air, spinning through space with impossible grace - the Moonsault 540 Leg Drop! He crushed Rey across the chest, bouncing off him from the impact.

COVER 1…2…3!
Too Cold Scorpio wins by pinfall with the moonsault 540 leg drop at 16:12
The bell rang. The match was over.


Scorpio clutched his Television Title as it was handed to him, dropping to the mat and immediately rolling under the ropes. He looked haunted, almost petrified at what he’d just endured, stumbling backward up the aisle, clutching his belt like a lifeline before vanishing behind the curtain.

Inside the ring, Misterio somehow stirred. The crowd rose to their feet, giving him a thunderous ovation. With every ounce of strength, Rey pushed to his knees, then to his feet. He bowed low to the fans, gesturing his thanks, showing heart that wouldn’t die.

But behind him, Konnan slid into the ring, his face twisted in cold betrayal. He blasted Misterio in the back of the head, sending him down in a heap. The Arena erupted in boos. Konnan pounced, locking in the Tequila Sunrise, wrenching Rey’s leg and back in an excruciating position. Misterio screamed in agony, trapped in his own corner man’s sadistic grip.

Suddenly, Scorpio burst back through the curtain, charging down the aisle. The moment Konnan saw him, he released the hold and bolted, sliding under the ropes and escaping into the crowd. He didn’t look back.

Scorpio dropped to one knee beside Misterio, checking on him. Then, in a rare show of respect, Scorpio lifted Rey onto his shoulder, raising his arm high in front of the adoring ECW faithful. The fans roared as Misterio, battered and broken, was celebrated not as Konnan’s pawn - but as his own man. And perhaps even some sort of alliance growing between Scorpio and Misterio.
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Fans Bring the Weapons Match:
The Sandman and Tommy Dreamer vs. Cactus Jack and Raven
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The house lights dim slightly, the ECW Arena buzzing like a hornet’s nest. Fans start piling their contributions onto ringside staff: frying pans, crutches, street signs, pool cues, a Nintendo console, even a VCR duct-taped shut. Every single weapon gets a pop as it’s shown off.

First out is Raven, dragging himself to the ring with his patented cold, lifeless stare. He barely acknowledges the fans pelting him with chants, only rolling under the bottom rope and sitting in the corner, head resting on the middle turnbuckle.

Cactus Jack emerges next, stomping down the aisle with a trash can already in hand, rattling with weapons stuffed inside. The Arena actually gives him a mixed response - some boos for siding with Raven, some cheers for his sheer willingness to bleed for the rapid crowd. Cactus tosses the can into the ring and points out his finger-guns, screaming, “BANG BANG!”

The lights flicker again as "Enter Sandman" plays over the loudspeakers. The ECW Arena comes unglued. The Sandman wades through the crowd, cigarette in mouth, beer in hand, cane swinging. The sea of fans part as he takes swigs of beer, smashing the cans against his forehead until blood trickles down. Sandman climbs the guardrail and over into the ring, already stumbling toward Raven’s corner, but the referee gets in the way holding off the Sandman for now.

And then Tommy Dreamer comes out - steel chair in hand, looking every bit the “Innovator of Violence.” The fans shower him in cheers. He’s the heart and soul of ECW, walking down like he’s going into war time rather than just a match. Dreamer joins Sandman at ringside, the two exchanging a glance and a nod. Tonight, they’re not partners out of friendship - they’re partners out of survival.


~Match Start~


The moment the bell rings, there’s no feeling out, no lockups. It’s instant chaos. Cactus Jack barrels across the ring at Sandman, catching him with a wild, swinging clothesline that immediately knocks the beer and cigarette from the champion’s mouth. At the same time, Raven explodes out of his corner, diving into Dreamer with fists flying, the two men spilling straight through the ropes before the crowd even has a chance to breathe.

Sandman stumbles backward, only to find himself cracked in the skull by the trash can lid Cactus had brought in earlier. The hollow CLANG echoes through the Arena, the dent in the aluminum matching the dent in Sandman’s forehead as he falls to a knee. Cactus, that sick grin plastered across his bloodied teeth, pulls out a crutch from the can and jabs it into Sandman’s ribs, over and over, each thrust sinking deeper as the crowd roars in equal parts horror and delight.

On the other side of things, Dreamer and Raven are already buried in the crowd. Dreamer tackles Raven over the guardrail, both men crashing into a sea of fans, chairs scattering like shrapnel. Dreamer grabs the first weapon handed to him - a frying pan - and absolutely rings Raven’s skull like a bell. Raven stumbles, arms limp, but when Dreamer goes for another shot, Raven snatches a handful of Dreamer’s hair and yanks him throat-first across the guardrail. Dreamer gasps for air as Raven boots him over the rail and onto the concrete. Raven follows with a DDT straight onto the cold floor, Dreamer’s body convulsing on impact.

Back toward the entrance aisle, Cactus is dragging Sandman by his hair, pulling him over to a fan holding a Stop sign. Without hesitation, Cactus rips it away and swings with everything he’s got, the steel bouncing off Sandman’s skull with a sickening thud. The champion’s forehead splits open, blood pouring down into his eyes, but instead of falling, Sandman staggers and blindly swings his cane, connecting flush with Cactus’ knee. Jack howls and drops to one leg, Sandman lurching forward to smash another cane shot across Cactus’ back.

The ECW faithful are on fire now - half screaming in shock, half chanting “E! C! W!” as weapons clatter everywhere.

Dreamer, refusing to stay down, crawls to his knees with blood starting to seep from the back of his head from one of the many strikes by Raven. A fan shoves a Nintendo console into his arms - cords still dangling. Dreamer grabs it and swings low, blasting Raven in the stomach, doubling him over. He smashes it again across Raven’s back, plastic and wires breaking apart as Raven crumples on the floor, holding his ribs. Dreamer, drenched in sweat and blood, lifts his head and screams, “EC FUCKIN' W!” as the Arena erupts.

Meanwhile, Sandman and Cactus are warring toward the bleachers. Cactus shoves Sandman face-first into the railing and bites at the open cut, crimson smeared across his own face like war paint. He hoists Sandman up for a suplex, but the champion slips free and lands behind him - then smashes a beer can he pulled from a fan into the back of Jack’s skull. Foam and blood spray as Sandman cracks the can open against Cactus’ head and then claws at his face, gouging at the eyes.

Raven has now regained control of Dreamer, dragging him back toward ringside and whipping him shoulder-first into the steel steps with a horrendous crash. Dreamer writhes in pain, holding his shoulder as Raven follows up by hurling a chair directly at his face. No setup, no swing - just a full-speed fastball chair toss that busts Dreamer even more open above the eye. Blood pools instantly as Raven smirks coldly, sitting Dreamer up against the guardrail and holding his boot choking him

The camera can’t catch it all at once - the chaos is everywhere. Fans are shoving weapons into hands, blood is already staining the floor, and none of the four men seem to have any thought of restraint or even going for a cover. This isn’t a wrestling match; it’s a public execution with four willing executioners.

The bloodied Sandman and Cactus Jack stagger their way back toward ringside, Sandman clutching a broken kendo stick while Cactus drags a steel chair wrapped in barbed wire. Cactus swung wildly, but Sandman ducks under and plants Jack face-first into the ring apron with a drop toe-hold trip.

Inside the ring, Raven has pulled Dreamer back between the ropes, smearing Dreamer’s blood across his "Heart-Shaped Box" graphic tee in a mock celebration. He whips Dreamer into the corner and charges, but Dreamer springs out with a desperation return clothesline. The crowd roars as Dreamer, adrenaline surging, follows up with a snap DDT onto a steel chair. Raven’s head bounces off the weapon with an ugly crack, and Dreamer scrambles for a cover:

COVER 1….2…. broken up by Cactus Jack!

Jack rips Dreamer off the pin and immediately puts him between his legs looking for a piledriver onto a chair. Fortunately Sandman intervenes with a chairshot directly to the forehead of Cactus Jack sending him folding to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Dreamer and Sandman lock eyes, blood running from both men. They double-team Raven, whipping him into the ropes and planting him with a huge double flapjack right onto a pile of broken weapons. Raven clutches his ribs, writhing in agony, as the fans chant, “E! C! W!”

Cactus, groggy but not finished, catches Sandman off guard with a stiff knee to the gut and a chop block to Dreamer who was posing to the crowd. He grabs Sandman’s waist, dragging him up into a stiff powerbomb - straight down onto a trash can flattening it in the ring. The can explodes under the force, Sandman arches his back, and Cactus dives for a cover:

COVER 1…2… Dreamer yanks him off!

Dreamer swings wildly, trying to protect his partner, but Raven blindsides him with a forearm to the back of the head. With Dreamer down, Raven picks him up and quickly spikes him into the mat with an Evenflow DDT. The crowd gasps as Raven covers, hooking both legs tight-

COVER 1…2… Sandman with a diving cane shot to the skull breaks it up!

The four battered men stumble around the wreckage of the ring like survivors of a riot, bloodied, dazed, yet still fueled by hatred. Dreamer, face dripping crimson, lunges at Raven once more. The two collapse under the ropes and spill out onto the floor, fists flying with no sense of rhythm or restraint. They tumble into the crowd, trading chair shots and choking each other with fans’ belts, disappearing deeper into the sea of bodies. The camera can barely follow, but the chaos between Dreamer and Raven feels endless, their hatred too personal to resolve inside the ring.

Back between the ropes, it’s down to Sandman and Cactus Jack. The ECW World Champion stumbles toward Jack, cane in hand, swinging wildly. Cactus ducks the first blow, but the second cracks across his shoulder, sending him writhing in pain. Sandman roars, smashing Jack’s skull. Cactus drops to one knee, arms outstretched, almost daring Sandman to hit him again. The champion obliges, driving the cane down with such force it splinters into jagged shards.

But Jack won’t die. With a guttural scream, he lunges forward, headbutting Sandman square in the mid-section. Both men fall, groggy, lying in a heap among splintered wood and crushed metal.

Cactus claws to his feet first. His eyes dart across the carnage - and land on the monstrosity waiting in the corner: the sheet of barbed wire coiled around a steel board. The crowd buzzes with sick anticipation as Jack drags it into the center of the ring. He doesn’t even glance at the fans; his focus is all on Sandman.

The champion staggers upright, blood streaked down his chest. He tries to mount one last rally, throwing haymaker punches, but Cactus absorbs them, shakes his head, and hooks both arms. The arena erupts.

Cactus Jack plants Sandman with a vicious Double Arm DDT - straight onto the barbed wire board. The sickening thud is followed by a horrific tearing sound as the wire bites into Sandman’s flesh. The champion convulses, tangled and trapped, as Jack sprawls on top for the cover.

COVER 1… 2… 3!
Cactus Jack pins Sandman with a Double=Arm DDT in 14:45
The bell rings, but the horror doesn’t stop. Sandman is still ensnared in the wire, his body shredded, as officials and medics rush to the ring. Cactus Jack rises, face painted crimson with blood, arms outstretched, howling into the ECW Arena like a man who just found ecstasy in agony.
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Carnage Cage Match:
The Gangstas (Mustafa and New Jack) vs. Public Enemy (Johnny Grunge and Rocco Rock)
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The house lights dim and the pulse of the arena shifts. Suddenly, “Here Comes the Hotstepper” by Ini Kamoze kicks in over the ECW sound system, and the ECW faithful erupt. Out strut Rocco Rock and Johnny Grunge, the Public Enemy, bouncing to the beat and flinging their arms like hype men at a block party that just got dropped into a warzone.

They’re carrying garbage cans filled with chairs, and what looks like a busted crutch - maybe from the previous match. Rocco Rock pauses at ringside, climbing halfway up the guardrail to dance with a section of fans, while Grunge smashes a garbage can lid against his own head, sending sweat flying.

When they finally step inside the barbed wire cage, their mood shifts from playful chaos to determined grit - they know they're in for war.

The lights in the ECW Arena don’t so much dim as they flicker out, and a nervous buzz rolls through the fans. Suddenly, that unmistakable beat kicks in - “Natural Born Killaz” by Dr. Dre and Ice Cube. The crowd doesn’t just pop; they surge, bodies jumping and X's made by the arms of the ECW faithful flood the Arena.

Through the haze of smoke and the cage’s ominous silhouette, New Jack and Mustafa Saed emerge, dragging an arsenal of destruction: crutches wrapped in barbed wire, chains, a kitchen sink (literally), and a shopping cart piled with weapons. New Jack has a bloody bandana tied tight, cigarette dangling, and eyes blazing with that wild, unhinged glare. Mustafa, calm but terrifying, stalks behind, swinging a steel chain like he’s keeping it warm for someone’s skull.

Fans part like the Red Sea as the Gangstas storm toward the ring, throwing a stray weapon or two into the cage before stepping inside. They don’t dance, they don’t smile - they radiate from the danger. The sight of them standing across from Public Enemy inside the barbed wire cage, “Natural Born Killaz” still blasting in the background, is pure ECW madness.

The door slams shut and the music keeps pounding.

~Match Start~

The bell doesn’t so much start this fight as it simply unleashes it. With Natural Born Killaz still pounding from the speakers and the barbed-wire cage looming like a prison of nightmares, all four men explode into chaos. There’s no feeling-out, no circling - just fists, chains, and well we got blood.

New Jack immediately hurls a toaster at Johnny Grunge’s head with a sickening clang. Grunge backs up against the wire, his arm getting snagged as barbed hooks tear at his flesh. Mustafa buries a steel chain into Rocco Rock’s ribs before wrapping it around his throat, dragging him across the mat like a prize catch. Rocco kicks wildly, gasping, as Mustafa smashes him face-first into the jagged steel mesh.

Public Enemy try to answer in kind, but the Gangstas brought an army arsenal’s worth of weapons. Grunge staggers upright with a frying pan, slamming it into New Jack’s skull so hard the pan bends into a horseshoe. New Jack just shakes it off with that terrifying grin, blood dripping down his forehead. He tackles Grunge and drives him chest-first into the cage, raking his face across the wire until his skin looks like shredded paper pouring out blood.

Rocco Rock, desperate, climbs onto one of the turnbuckles, grabbing a kendo stick from the cage wall. He dives off with a wild swing, cracking Mustafa in the shoulder. The stick splinters, but Mustafa doesn’t drop - instead, he scoops Rocco up, spins, and powerslams him through a propped-up table in the corner that explodes into jagged chunks. The crowd roars “E-C-DUB! E-C-DUB!” as splinters rain down.

New Jack, ever the madman, digs into his cart and pulls out a staple gun. The arena groans as he corners Grunge, pinning him against the cage, and thwack-thwack-thwack - stapling dollar bills into his forehead. Grunge screams and stumbles forward, blood and paper stuck to his skin.

Rocco, battered but alive, smashes a beer bottle against the turnbuckle post and rakes the jagged glass across Mustafa’s arm, slicing him open. Mustafa barely flinches. He snatches the bottle away and stabs it into Rocco’s back, leaving him twitching on the mat.

The violence doesn’t let up for a second. New Jack climbs halfway up the cage with a guitar in hand - and with zero hesitation, dives off onto Grunge, smashing the instrument over his head. Both men crash into the mat in a heap of blood, splinters, and madness.

All four men are bleeding profusely. The mat is a crimson smear, the air thick with smoke and sweat. None of them have even looked at the cage door. There’s no thought of escape - just carnage.
Johnny Grunge, face a crimson mask with dollar bills still stapled into his skin, roars back with a chain-wrapped fist. He swings wild haymakers into New Jack’s jaw, the chain snapping across flesh with each shot. Rocco Rock joins in, grabbing a stop sign from the cage wall and slamming it flat over Mustafa’s skull. The gong of the metal rattles through the arena, and Mustafa actually stumbles down to one knee.


The Public Enemy smell blood. They drag New Jack up together and whip him across the ring straight into the barbed-wire mesh of the cage. The sound is less a crash and more a rip - New Jack’s arm and shoulder get caught in the steel, the barbs piercing his skin like fishhooks. Grunge and Rocco take turns smashing chairs into his body as he dangles there, unable to free himself until he finally tears loose, leaving streaks of flesh and blood behind.

Rocco, always the daredevil, finds a ladder leaned in the corner. He sets it up in the middle of the ring, wobbling as he climbs, some errant barbed wire tangled around his arms. With the crowd howling, he leaps from halfway up the ladder, a flying splash onto Mustafa, flattening both men under the debris of broken weapons.

Meanwhile, Grunge turns the cage into his own playground. He grabs a pizza cutter some lunatic fan tossed in and rakes it across New Jack’s forehead, opening a waterfall of blood that paints the mat beneath them. The fans shriek in equal parts horror and ecstasy as Grunge holds the cutter aloft like a trophy.

Public Enemy keep pressing. They double-team Mustafa, dragging him across the mat and propping him against a table wedged into the corner. Rocco grabs a steel chair, slams it against Mustafa’s chest to hold him in place, and then charges across the ring, flipping himself through the air with a cannonball senton that obliterates both the table and Mustafa beneath it.

By this point, the Gangstas are gasping, bloodied wrecks. For the first time in the match, it feels like Public Enemy are in control - standing tall, weapons in hand, feeding off the ECW Arena’s frenzy.

But in ECW, control never lasts long.
All four men are drenched in blood and sweat, their bodies draped with cuts from barbed wire and weapon shots. The weapons strewn around the ring are mostly broken, shattered remnants of chaos - dented chairs, splintered tables, bent baking sheets, and bloodstained chains.


The Gangstas, staggering but refusing to die, begin clawing their way back. Mustafa manages to hurl Rocco Rock face-first into the cage wall, barbs catching his mask of hair and ripping it from his head. New Jack, fueled by adrenaline and fury, wields a steel chair like an executioner, swinging it at Johnny Grunge’s back with a crack that echoes through the ECW Arena and eventually wrapping it around Johnny's head.

Mustafa presses a bat against Rocco’s throat, choking the life out of him in the corner, as New Jack fixes his eyes on Johnny Grunge.

The crowd senses it. Something bigger is coming.

New Jack sets up the kill. He drags Johnny’s lifeless body across the mat and lays him across a table already mangled from earlier use. Grunge barely stirs, blood flowing from his forehead, arms limp, practically knocked out from the disgusting chairshot to the head. New Jack doesn’t even hesitate. He begins climbing the barbed wire cage itself, his hands and arms slicing open as he scales, but the crowd roars louder with each painful inch.

At the top of the cage, New Jack steadies himself - swaying, battered, soaked in his own and other's blood - and raises his arms to the heavens as if daring gravity itself to stop him. The ECW Arena becomes unglued.

Then, without pause, New Jack launches himself off the top of the cage.

He comes crashing down with a diving splash from the heavens, the impact blowing apart the table underneath Johnny Grunge like it was nothing more than matchsticks. The thud is sickening, the air knocked from both men, the crowd erupting in chants of “ECW! ECW! ECW!”.

The referee, horrified, rushes in and immediately opens the cage door. He kneels beside Johnny Grunge, checking his body. Grunge is completely limp, unresponsive, his chest barely rising. The ref doesn’t hesitate - he signals for the bell.

DING DING DING

The Gangstas are declared the winners, not by pinfall, not by submission, but by sheer, unrelenting violence. New Jack rolls off the wreckage, grinning through the blood, half-laughing, half-wheezing. Mustafa lifts him up, barely able to stand, as the two celebrate their warpath.

Meanwhile, EMTs swarm the ring to check on Johnny Grunge. Rocco crawls toward him, clutching his partner’s hand, while the Gangstas, battered and victorious, stagger out of the cage to the sound of “Natural Born Killaz” blasting once again.

The carnage is over. The Gangstas walk away bloody victors - and Public Enemy are left broken inside the cage they entered with such swagger.

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Last edited:

Stojy

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As usual, you have a great knack of writing these Joey Styles' intro's. They continue to be a fun read.

Obviously no idea at this point exactly where it will end up, but I'm really interested in the debut of 'Stunning' Steve Austin here. The idea that the mental anguish of being fired has driven him to the delusional point of thinking ECW is WCW is actually kind of awesome. Fun promo, a good start to the character here, and I'm looking forward to much more. Good job.

Man that picture of Jerry Lynn cracks me up. So long ago... Anyway I liked that you went with Maritato/Lynn as the opener. That's what ECW would do a lot back in the day anyway, open with the technical wrestling before the carnage took over. I'm glad you stuck with that system here. I'm not really a fan of Jerry Lynn so I'm even more pumped to see Maritato get the win here. The match itself was fine, staying away from the weapon use as it should have.

One of the things I will raise as potentially something to look at. Whilst the match writing has been good, there's probably a few matches, where it kind of feels like one paragraph is still early on in the match, and then the next one is the finishing one. I'm not saying you need to write every little detail of every match, but at the bare minimum, a bridging statement would be nice. For example, maybe after Lynn hit the Plancha in the opening and got a near fall, "Guido went back to work on the arm, keeping Lynn grounded and torturing him for the next few minutes". I'm sure you could probably come up with something better than my uninspired example, but I hope that makes sense. There's just a slight disconnect from a reader (or at least my) perspective to go from opening, Plancha, near fall, Guido goes back to the arm, oh hey now the match is over.

So I'm assuming Mikey isn't going to win the ECW Championship in this timeline lol? I don't mind Konnan coming in and squashing him as the perfect intro to make him and his Mexican wave seem like a serious threat. Konnan dragging out the match to further torture Mikey and be arrogant works to. No issues with this one.

If the Steiners are going back to WCW, damn right they should do the job on their way out. I think you put over the explosive strength battle between the Steiners/Pitbulls quite well. The Rick Steiner broken leg spot caught me completely off guard, so he won't be around anytime soon. I will say Pitbulls getting a win over the Steiners is huge, regardless of circumstance. I think this probably sets them up for a title shot, whilst I assume Steiners will be gone now.

I know you were big on the Scorpio/Mysterio match, and to be honest, it was the match of the night from a technical standpoint. It definitely delivered. With Rey involved, it hit the right notes, with the fans cheering for Rey even though he's aligned with the villain because his offense is just so damn cool. Awesome spots to, particular the clever use of Konnan to hurl Rey into the crowd onto Scorpio. Such an ECW move, so I really like that this felt like an ECW match... Until you went for the count out spot. They didn't do count outs in ECW, so this felt really out of place, to be honest. It is what it is but I'd just avoid doing that again unless you're running a Death Match or something. I was also surprised by the frazzled nature of Scorpio's reaction to being challenged. He was one of the top guy's during his TV title run, and If I remember right, even when challenged, he always maintained his cool. I guess I'm just intrigued whether this is just a one off or there's more there. But in general, a really well put together match and Scorpio winning felt like the right move. I like you pulling the trigger right away for Mysterio to be face as well, because Rey in this era in North America is just not getting boos. Really well done.

I marked out for the nintendo as a weapon. This was a typical plunder ECW match, and you delivered well. One query, I don't know I missed something, but it seemed weird that Woman wasn't out at ringside with The Sandman. I'm unsure if I missed something saying she wouldn't be there or if that was an oversight from you. But yeah, more Woman stroking the cane please. I actually don't have much else to say for this match. I thought yoiu captured the carnage of an ECW match involving these four well, so not really any feedback to give on the writing. From a booking standpoint, I LOVE the result because surely it means we get Sandman/Cactus at some point which I can definitely get excited for.

I see you just randomly felt like writing out the names of the entrance songs for the main event lol. Now this is ECW. As much as Scorpio/Rey was the technical match of the night, this was my favourite to read. I just feel like you saved a lot of really big, brutal moments for this one which made it stand out... Which makes complete sense as it is the main event. Description like "skin looking like shredded paper", the stapling the dollar bills, the smashing a glass bottle to stab the opponent with sharp edges, so much stuff in here that was brutal. And it all culminated with the big moment, Jack coming off the top of the cage. The Gangstas had to win this as the newer entity at this point so I think you booked this the right way. I'm torn on the referee stoppage call though. Assuming you wanted to protect Public Enemy and perhaps continue the feud, but ECW really prided itself on no crappy finishes on big shows. I think this referee stoppage could have worked on an undercard match, but I can't help but feel the main event of an ECW show finishing this way might have been hated on by the crowd. Especially when Jack be jumping off balconies every other week anyway. In short, I think you made the right decision in terms of winner, but wasn't a huge fan of the match ending the way it did, mainly because it's ECW.

A really good effort for first PPV/special whatever you want to call it. I picked on a couple of things because that's just what I do, but the enjoyment as a reader was here. Really promising start to this BTB, looking forward to what's next, especially with 'Stunning' Steve Austin.