From: foleye@xanth.CS.ORST.EDU (The Stilt Man)
Newsgroups: rec.sport.pro-wrestling
Subject: FWF:  Titan vs. Doc II
Summary: The Invincible Titan Morgan defends the World Heavyweight Championship
	against the diabolical Doctor Death.
Date: 15 Apr 92 19:08:11 GMT
Organization: Oregon State University

And, finally, the long-awaited rematch is here.  The two greatest superstars
in the FWF square off once more for the World Heavyweight Championship.  The
Invincible Titan Morgan, the champion, defends his title against the number
two contender, the diabolical Doctor Death.

Commentary from both parties . . .

Death:

"I am exultant that the opportunity to reclaim my pilfered prestige has
at last within my grasp.  I know that I will have to subject myself to
listening to Titan Morgan's polemic pontification soon, but it means nothing
to me!  I am the rightful World Heavyweight Champion, for the title was never
cleanly taken from me!  You, yourself, failed to defeat me for it, Morgan,
and it was then stolen from me with a two-foot-long wooden rod.  Soon, the
belt will once again be around my waist, and I will walk into the Tokyo
EggDome at Dreamcard V and show once again that Doctor Death is the mightiest
wrestler the world over!  Death is the broom I take in my hands to sweep the
world clean!"


Morgan:

"Y'know something, Doc, you were a great World Champion in your day, that
I can't take away from you.  No, you didn't lose the belt fair and square,
but that's the way the FWF works sometimes.  I don't like it, either, that
sometimes people break the rules and take short cuts to glory, but that's
all said and done!  Now its the TitanManiacs who are the Champions of the
World, forever and a day, and you are the past!  I have and you had!  You're
a former World Heavyweight Champion, and that's the way you're gonna stay!
It will be the Titan and all the Maniacs who are going to tear into the
EggDome in Tokyo at Dreamcard, who will strip John Girder of the EMWA World
Heavyweight Championship, unify the titles, and walk out having proven what
everyone in the FWF already knows:  that TitanMania is the strongest force
in the universe!  When you mess with the best, you'll fall like the rest!!"


---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Atlantic City Convention Center has seen many great events in its day,
like many other arenas all around the country.  The tune of "Toccata and
Fugue in D Minor" on grand concert organ sounds over its PA system now,
heralding one of the longest-awaited rematches in Fictional Wrestling
Federation history.  Alfred Grinchley takes up the microphone and begins
his ministrations.

"THE FOLLOWING CONTEST IS FOR THE WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP!  IT IS
SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL.  INTRODUCING FIRST, THE CHALLENGER.  FROM PARTS
UNKNOWN; HE WEIGHS TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SEVEN POUNDS:  THE DIABOLICAL
DOCTOR DEATH!!!"

The man in the black cloak parts the curtains and slowly begins his walk
to the ring.  The hood pulled low over his face, the fans lean over to
try and get a glimpse within.  Death glances up, and the spectators draw
back, apologizing nonverbally for their presumption.  The red-flecked
ebon eyes are terrifying to behold, and they mark the reputation of this
man who was once World Heavyweight Champion, who intends to become the
first-ever two-time World Champion tonight, here in Atlantic City.  The
smart money is against him, though.  No man has ever pinned the man who
now holds the title, and they don't think that it will be done tonight,
either.

Death ascends the ring steps, and from beneath his metal hockey-like
mask, his eyes command the attention of the referee.  He stands outside
the ring, unmoving, the message he is sending with his eyes unmistakable . .
and irresistible.  The official, reluctant to near this awesome presence,
parts the ring ropes for him to enter the ring.  Death draws back the
hood and unbuckles the clasp of his cloak, revealing the kilt of black
fabric, with golden threads dangling from the undermost edge.  A white
skull grins from the front of the kilt, and everyone who watches the
sinister ultra-heel can see his/her own skull on a shelf in whatever
sanctum this man haunts.

Death has been superseded before as the most-hated heel before in the
FWF, but only through seeming inactiveness.  Those who see him cannot
remember a time when their palms were more slick with cold sweat, that
they were so brutally reminded of the evil in themselves that seems to
be revealed in the eyes of this man.  He removes the metal mask, leaving
the leather one beneath to cover his visage in the match.  It is totally
enigmatic as to what he looks like beneath it.  If the horrid eyes are
any symbol, the fans would just as soon keep it that way.

The morbid silence is broken by the sound of "Eye of the Tiger," as
the World Heavyweight Champion steps from the ropes for his third
consecutive title defense, now against perhaps the only man in the FWF
who has proven himself his equal.  The marks break into loud cheers of
approval for him, as his blue eyes wander to the dark presence in the
ring that opposes him tonight.  The Grinch swallows his own fear of said
presence and resumes his task.

"AND HIS OPPONENT:  FROM VENICE BEACH, CALIFORNIA; WEIGHING IN AT THREE
HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN POUNDS.  HE IS THE WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION, THE
INVINCIBLE TIIIIIIIITAAAAAN MOOOOOOOOOOORRRGAAAAAAANN!!!!"

The roar of the crowd is deafening, and the Grinch gets few more words
in edgewise before Morgan cups his hand to his ear, and the fans respond
maniacally.  They are all TitanManiacs here, marks and hardcores alike,
for Titan Morgan is a great wrestler as well as a great hero.  The hard-
cores' loyalties are quite split, for Death is also a great wrestler as
well as a great villain.  The miasma of doom Death radiates seems to
dissolve in the presence of this other individual, who makes his way
down to ringside with his finger waving in the air, his gold and azure
shirt and tights well-suited for the blue eyes and blonde hair of the
undisputed FWF World Heavyweight Champion.

Morgan steps up to ringside, waving his hand in the air, and turns and
points at Death menacingly.  Death meets his gaze firmly, and the
message is clear.  Only one of us is going to Dreamcard, Titan, and it
is not going to be you, Death's eyes are saying.  Morgan smiles and
steps through the ropes, tearing the shirt from his chest, revealing
the radioactive orange blemishless chest, no flab.  He removes the
headband from his full head of hair, tossing it out with the shirt in
either direction.  He ignores the mad scramble of the marks for the
discarded souvenirs, for his attention is all for this heel in the ring
with him.

Morgan has great respect for this man.  Anyone who steps into the ring
with him can attest to his ring skills.  Death has only been pinned
once in his career in the FWF, a distinction he shares with Morgan at
the hands of John "Flawless" Lawless.  But Lawless lost the title to
Annihilus, who in turn has been beaten by both of these two men.  Morgan
by pinfall for the title, Death by DQ for the chance to challenge for
the title again.  Death has waited a very long time to reclaim the belt
that almost seems custom-made for the black-and-gold kilt around his
hips.  Morgan removes it and hands it to the referee, who holds it aloft.
This is what the match is for; this is the very essence of competition
in the FWF.  Soon, it will be matched against its counterpart in the EMWA,
powers that be willing.  But for now, it is in dispute between these two
giants in the Fictional Wrestling Federation.  The bell sounds, and the
match is officially under way.

Morgan and Death lock up in a collar-and-elbow tie, and Death slips under
Morgan's left arm and throws his weight into a knee to the midsection.
He seizes the larger man's wrist immediately and twists it around.  The
Titan hesitates in pain, then reverses the move, pulling Death back in
a Japanese arm drag from the stance!  Death, surprised, rises and runs
back at Morgan, who repeats the move from the run.  Doc rolls out of the
ring immediately, glaring up at the Titan, who rolls his eyes up at the
ceiling as he remembers Death's somewhat less-than-honorable time-grabbing.

Death paces back and forth, keeping a corner of his eye on Morgan at all
times, turning back toward the ring, seeming to stare off into space.  The
fans at ringside wonder if he's lost interest, but it is a testimony to
Death's deceptiveness at times.  He is watching both Morgan and the ref's
count at the same time with peripheral vision, and returns to the ring
once more at the nine count.

Doc and Titan lock up a second time, and this time Death is lifted from
his feet and hurled bodily into the corner.  Morgan, deigning not to
showboat for this imperturbable foe, follows in and lands an uppercut
that the fans at ringside can feel from there.  Unfortunately, Death feels
it from much closer.  Morgan jabs and punches to the ribs, combining lefts
and rights mercilessly.  There is no quarter to be given or expected in
this matchup, and both men know it.  Morgan shifts, and deals a reverse
knife edge chop that rocks Death backward.  A second, and Death is then
sent out of the corner.  Morgan runs across, but Death ducks before he
hits the corner, and seems to be flipping over the turnbuckle.  Morgan
isn't able to stop before both of the Doctor's feet cascade upward across
his jawbone, stunning him.  Death pulls his feet forward and lands them
on the bottom rope, quickly hurling his weight backward before Morgan
has a moment to think.  The elbow to the sternum wrenches Morgan from
his feet.

Death drops a second elbow to Morgan, then opts for a reverse chinlock
as Morgan sits up.  He knows that he can't put Morgan away quickly, so
he has to wear the man down.  The longer the match goes, the stronger
Death will get, especially in this sort of situation.  He's laying on
Morgan's lungs, keeping him from breathing easily.  Slow-moving game
plan.  The marks are disgusted, the hardcores are disappointed that the
pace is slowed down, but they understand why.  Morgan tries to get
away from the move, but can't go anywhere.  Doc's putting too much
weight on his back for him to escape.

A murmur from the dressing room arises, and another individual runs
up to ringside.  The fans are surprised to see "Sting" Stan Golding,
one-half of the Blade Runners, coming to the ring.  What is he doing
here?  Is he going to interfere in the match?  Is he just coming to
watch?  Challenge the winner?  The official goes over to ringside to
ask what Sting is doing here, and the man reassures him that he's not
intending to interfere in the match.  Death, of course, takes advantage
of the distraction and shifts his hold onto Morgan's throat, until the
kicking down on the mat Morgan does for reaction finally gets the ref's
attention again.

But by that time, Death has shifted his hold back to a legal position,
and the ref sees nothing dirty.  Sting shrugs as the marks yell at him
for distracting the official, saying it's not his fault.  Death doesn't
much care whose fault it is; he has an advantage, and he intends to take
it while he's got it.  Morgan finally manages to get over on to one side,
and gets a foot under himself.  No sooner has he slipped out from under
the hold than he takes Death down with a drop-toe hold, eliciting approval
from both Sting and the marks.  Morgan goes for the arm, but Death makes
it to the ropes in time, and Morgan is forced to let him go.  No sooner
has he done so than Death is outside the ring again.

He looks at Sting warily, not certain what this man is doing here any
more than Morgan is.  Morgan turns to Sting and warns him not to interfere
on his own behalf any more than Doc's, telling him to let Doc back in when
he wants to.  Death makes his way back in while Morgan is doing this, and
clips him behind the knee before he turns to face him.  Morgan's leg
buckles and drops him to the mat.

Sting shouts angrily at Death, who responds with a wordless war-shriek
of fury.  Death puts Morgan back up, catches him in a front facelock.
He draps one of the Titan's arms over his head, and lifts him up swiftly
into a vertical suplex.  He slams him down expertly, every square inch
of his back striking at once.  He backs to the ropes, and steps up to
drop the knee . . .


Morgan gets out of the way in time, and Death's knee hits empty mat.
Morgan executes a spinning leglock, catching the other leg, and puts Death
in the figure four!  Death grins, not even seeming to feel any pain at all.
Morgan stares in shock at the relaxed expression, not prepared for it when
Death abruptly turns over, before Morgan can set himself against it.  The
Titan cries out in agony, for whatever advantage Death had against the hold,
he does not share.  He manages to get a hand on the bottom rope, and the
ref forces Death to release the hold.  Morgan slumps to motionless rest on
the mat, as Death points to his knees and bends them a few degrees backward
without any evidence of pain.  Double joints help against figure fours a
great deal.

Death aims and fires with the knee drop a second time, hitting the back of
Morgan's head, going through with the somersault motion in one graceful
movement.  Morgan stops dead, clutching at the base of his skull, as Death
unleashes a short, staccato laugh.  He then takes Morgan back into the
front facelock, trying for another suplex, evidently.  It doesn't work, as
Morgan shoves him loose, plowing down the referee!

Morgan doesn't seem to notice, roaring in rage in unison with the fans as
he whips Death across the ring, catching him in what starts out as a side
suplex, then turning him 540 degrees around for the "tilt-a-whirl!"  The
fans begin the chant . . .

"DDT!  DDT!  DDT!  DDT!  DDT!"

Morgan winds one index finger around in the air, and cups his hand to his
ear to hear the tumultuous response.  He takes Death into a front facelock,
and snaps him down, bouncing him over off the top of his head on the ring
canvas, flopping him bonelessly onto his back.

Morgan, only now, sees the official lying unconscious on the mat.  Sting
goes over and pushes at his inert form, but it seems to do very little
good.  Death, equally inert, is oblivious to the problem.  After a few
seconds, he finally rolls over onto his belly, clutching at his neck.
Morgan, seeing that he is back in the world of the living, draws him up
and whips him across the ring.

The scoop up is followed by tucking Death's head down, flipping him 270
degrees head-over-heels in a crunching power slam.  Morgan comes off the
ropes once more, and hits Death with the Leg Drop of Doom!!  The ref is
still lost to the world, though, and it does Morgan no good whatsoever
that Death is utterly destroyed at the moment.  Finally, Morgan steps
over to the ropes and starts having a conversation with Sting about
going back to the locker room to get another referee for the match.
Sting responds that the first one isn't too badly gone, and could still
officiate when he comes to.  Doc certainly isn't going anywhere.  Just
to make sure, Morgan steps up and lands the Leg Drop of Doom a second
time!

Sting shakes the referee furiously, and elicits a semi-aware groan from
the man.  Morgan hits the mat seven times before the official grobbily
makes his way over to where the twice-leg-dropped Death is being covered
by the Titan.  Slowly, his hand raises.  One!  A second time . . . two!
A third . . .


NO!  Death's shoulder parts company with the canvas by about half an
inch, but it's still off the mat!  Morgan stands up, shouting at anyone
who will listen, disgusted that the official had to be out when Death
was as well.  Sting motions to Morgan, and the Titan goes over to talk.


Death sees Morgan's back turned, and slowly gets up and lumbers over
behind.  Sting sees him before Morgan does, and shouts a warning to the
Titan.  Morgan turns immediately, seeing Death half-consciously standing
before him.  He instinctively raises his right fist in defense, but
Death sees opportunity in the move.  He grabs Morgan's wrist in his
left hand, loops his left arm over Morgan's head and his right hand
inside Morgan's elbow.  The hardcores are surprised that Death was able
to apply the Vulcan Death Grip from in front, but there it is!  Death
applies pressure to the nerves, spasming Morgan's entire body for a
second.  Death uses the brief time to pull Morgan away from the ropes,
then lays on the hurt full-scale.

The Zen training Death has received in his past is demonstrated quite
agonizingly to Titan Morgan, who goes limp in the space of about ten
seconds.  The referee slowly walks up and lifts Morgan's left arm.  It
drops like a rubbery noodle.  A second time.  No more reaction.  The
official lifts it a third time, holding it a second while he signals
the timekeeper to watch . . .



. . . and drops it limply to Morgan's side once more.  The bell sounds,
and Death lets Morgans limp body fall back to the mat.  The fans at
ringside yell at Sting for distracting Morgan at the crucial moment,
but Sting protests vehemently that it was he who warned Morgan against
the impending disaster.  The official lifts Death's hand in victory,
as the Grinch makes the final, dreaded announcement.

"THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH . . . AND THE NEEEEEW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION,
DOOOCTOR DEEEEAAAATTHH!!!"

Death shakes his head, and collapses halfway to the side of the ring.
Get hit with two Leg Drops of Doom, look as good you will not.  But the
result is official:  Doctor Death is now the FWF World Heavyweight Champion,
for the second time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------


Not quite as long as the first time, true.  But different in its scope
and flow from the first Morgan/Death match.

So there it stands.  Rounding out the Dreamcard lineup will be Doctor
Death with the FWF World Heavyweight Championship to square off against
John Girder with the EMWA World Championship in the Tokyo EggDome for
Dreamcard V:  the Rising Sun.  Don't miss this one!



 __________________________________________________________________________
|Stilt Man --Never ask a mortician to go out and bring you back a cold one.|
|  foleye@xanth.cs.orst.edu						   |
|__________________________________________________________________________|
| Any and all suggestions for wrestling characters, possible plotlines, and|
| other such perglurbage are welcomed and, in fact, encouraged.            |
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