The show opens with Jeremy McMillion walking to his office carrying a briefcase. He’s walking down the hall when he stops sniffing the air.

Jerm: “What’s that smell? Is there a James McKnight match going on?�?/FONT>

We are backstage and we see Tony Rich surrounded by young beautiful screaming women.

Tony: “Whoa, whoa, there’s plenty of me to go around ladies.�?/FONT>

Kewl: “We are ready for the first match up the night!�?/FONT>

We come back and see SoD walk into their dressing room.

Con: “What da fuck?�?/FONT>

The match started off pretty hardcore as Dave slammed LC's face across a set-up chair right as the bell rung. Dave Tanner had a lot of momentum going into this match, showing how true his colors are to the High Risk Division. He would slam LC right through a table covered in tacks. LC bounced back at one point in the match by diving off the ropes and onto Dave and Palsied. From then on there after a swift X Marks the Spot from Palsied, Dave would launch himself and LC off the turnbuckle, which lead to Dave hitting the Super Natural onto CARL. Dave got the pin 1-2-3.

Binkle: "Here is your winner... DAVE TANNER!"

Let's just say that Con Escobar came, he saw, and he completly OWNED!!! Robert Michaels. Yes, that means he hit the patented spear on him. After about a minute went off the clock, Con pinned Michaels, and picked up the win. But Con wasn't done there, oh hell naw! He grabbed the microphone from Binkle, and was about ready to kick some more ass!

Con: "Y'know, I've had about up to here with Rot ducking me lately. Yeah, he beat me. And yeah, he doesn't need to worry about me anymore. But that son of a bitch STILL hasn't seen my full revenge. I know for a fact that he'll pull his strings with the Jerm so that he ducks out of a match with me, and Hamid won't be able to do jackshit, so you know what. I'm going to go talk to the big man up in MSN headquarters. Maybe I can talk some sense into him, because with Rot's Silver-tongue clouding McMillion's mind, I have no chance at killing off what is Rot. So next week, ladies and gents, Con Escobar won't be here. But don't fear, nah. Because I'll be pulling something soon enough, and that's the TV Title off of Rot's cold lifeless hands."

This match was well even between Rot and Tim Torn. As these two started the match off, they immediately went for the kill. Tim didn't want to play methodical, and Rot wanted to dispose of a potential TV Title contender as soon as possible. After hitting a couple of well placed suplexes, Tim hits a huge Hero Dropkick that sends Rot into his corner. Rot instinctly tags in Rain, and Tim tags in Summer. These two make the match bloody, scratching, clawing, even biting at each other. Some sadomasochists in the buildin' are poppin' bones at this, weirdos. Rain hits a flying lariat from the top rope, but Summer bounces back with a friggin C4 off of the top rope (Site Paul Burchill). Summer has the pin! 1...2...3! NO ROT HIT THE REF WITH A VISCIOUS BOOT TO THE SIDE OF THE HEAD! Tim steps into the ring, and goes to hit the Burning Lariat, but Rot ducks out of the way. Tim turns around to get snapped in the gut with a boot, put on Rot's shoulders, and hit with the Mock! Tim crumbles to the mat, and Summer stands up now. Rot turns around right in time to duck out of the ring, and pull Rain out with him as a new ref charges down to the ring.

Kewl: "What's the ref saying to Binkle?"

Binkle: "Here is your winner... by disqualification... TIM TORN AND SUMMER STRATUS!"

Before any music can hit, Rot snatches the microphone from Binkle's hands.

Rot: "YEAH! You've had your fun, douchebags! But next week, I want Tim Torn one-on-one. Give me five minutes alone with that prag, and he'll know for sure not to step up to me, and call me a stooge."

Outside of the W2K Arena is a one man picket line. That man being Sean Hunter, holding up two signs. One saying 'W2K asked me to touch them *here*', and the other being "Fuck Phantom" which shows resemblance to that of the "Fuck Rob Black" sign Messiah was seen with at a show. Sean yells out slogans to passer-by's who are close to calling the authorities.

Sean: "DON'T GO TO A W2K SHOW, THEY REALLY SUCK WITH PAYROLL!"

Someone puts some loose change near Sean's foot, since he probably thinks Sean is poor. I mean, with a face like that, it's easy to mistake.

Sean: "IF YOU ENJOY W2K MATCHES, YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF DIRTY SNATCHES!"

Jeremy McMillion himself walks onto the scene now, and puts his hands on his hips.

Jerm: "What the HELL do you think you're doing, Sean? I thought I said you were suspended."

Sean: "Yeah, you suspended me. But now I'm showing tha world your injustices, you douchecake!"

Now we see Phantom of all people make his way towards errbody.

Phantom: "Your slogans remind me of George W. Bush' speech writers. The only thing you have going for you is you don't look like a fucking Chimpanzee, but your brain says otherwise."

Sean: "Shut up, Spalding. You look like the transvestite from the Rocky Horror Picture show."

Ouch. Phantom looks like he's about to rip Sean in half, and Sean drops one of the signs so he can use the other one as an equalizer. But the pigs pop up onto the scene and Darren Smith fucking books it. Erm... anyway, The Jerm points to Sean, and smiles.

Jerm: "Oh, I'm sorry Sean. You're on company property. Perhaps you'll learn your lesson, because you don't have the RIGHT TO STRIKE! You aren't in a union! Haha! Take him away, Mr. Policeman!"