The crowd is going biserk as Superstar II By Saliva is blasting over the PA.

The crowd flips out as the curtain goes flying to the side and WallStreet jumps out on the stage and paces the stage from right to left as he soaks up the reaction.

Askin, "THERE HE IS! THE MECCA OF MAINSTREAM, THE HIGHARCHY OF FAME And the man who tonight represents DUBBYA TWO KAY Verses former BUD Gimmick Wrestler Felix McAllister!"
Macklin, "The Terrorist verses the professionaly Terrible..."
Askin, "Damn It Eddie, Will you stop that!?"
Macklin, "Probably not."

Regardless of how Macklin feels, The fans are making the walls quiver as WallStreet stands atop of the ramp and scans the crowd with his eyes... His face rather serious. Finally he swings his arm around and throws it up while stomping his right foot down hard Which sets off 3 sets of Green streamers into the air.

The crowd goes absolutly ballistic as he begins his Power Strut down the ramp.

Kevin Dart, "ON His Way To The Ring From Hartford Conneticut... He weighs in this evening at 273 Pounds... He is the Mecca of Mainstream... The WALLSTREET Braaawler... TAYLOR_MccccCAAAAAAAAAALISTERRRR!!!"

Askin, "The absolute best in the business today, bar none, and as you saw earlier, he's out for blood tonight."
Macklin, "He's out for blood every night Johnny, he's a damn terrorist... He's just choosing to admit it tonight."
Askin, "I Know damn well in my heart of hearts that Taylor McCallister is no terrorist. The man's a patriot and while he may be no saint, he damn sure ain't no terrorist. I believe full heartedly that Taylor McCallister would slap the taste outta Osama Bin Laden's mouth on sight if given that oppertunity. The man has donated millions in charity for the victims of Nine-Eleven, he's a phenominal human being, point blank."
Macklin, "He's a phenominal cover artist. Ask Hamid Ismali."
Askin, "Hamid Ismali is a self-professed terrorist, how the Hell can ya take his word over WallStreet's?"
Macklin, "Ever heard the term "It takes one to know one"? And besides, Hamid's word is gold so long as his name's on the bottom of my pay check."

As WallStreet gets to the bottom of the ramp and rounds the fan guard rails he slaps a few hands and then stands at the bottom of the stairs, staring up into the ring.

Macklin, "Johnny Askin, I ask you, is there any man better than the man that stands before us..."
Askin, "Hamid Ismali."
Macklin, "I beg to differ..."
Askin, "Beg all ya want, it doesn't make you right..."
Macklin, "Wait a second.... Did we just completly flop views?"
Askin, "Shhhh... Maybe nobody noticed."

WallStreet runs up the stairs and quickly enters the ring between the second and third ropes.

 He walks over to the far corner and steps up onto the second rope throwing his arm up to draw a huge pop...

The crowd is going loopy as WallStreet finally hops down off the turnbuckle. The Referee begins talking to Street in the ring as we hear a voice similar to that of Warner Brother's Marvin The Marshion over the PA...

"Bling Bling Bitches"

With that Superstar (not to be confused with Superstar II) By Saliva blasts over the PA as word by word the following comes on the W2K Jumbo Tron...

Felix "Wall$treet" McAllister

The crowd is erupting with Boos as WallStreet is pacing Center ring ready to go... Suddenly the backdrop of someone's back yard comes down over the opening of the stage and out from behind it and in front of it steps...

Askin, "What the Hell..."
Macklin, "Erm... Wow..."

In the Ring WallStreet's face basically says "What the Fuck"...

Dart, "And his opponent.... Making his way from Hartford Connecticut, he weighs in at 97 Pounds.... The "WallRoad Fighter.... FLEX MAC-ALLISTER!"

Macklin, "Hold up... Is this a Mock character of a Mock Character?!"
Askin, "Erm... I'm a tad confused but I guess so..."
Macklin, "So this is kinda like Goldberg confronting his impersonator in Gilberg and in turn getting a Gilberg personator?"
Askin, "Erm... I guess."

With that Green pyro rocket down from the rafters and to the top of the ramp making a triumphant booming noise ... Unfortuantly a few sparks catch Flex's tights on fire so remembering his elementary school training, he instantly Stops, Drops, and rolls down the ramp to extinguish the fire.

Macklin, "Wow..."

Flex gets up at ringside a bit dizzy before he hops right up onto the apron and climbs into the ring. He throws his hands up as the crowd remains silent. he takes his shades off and tosses them into the audience as he walks to his respected corner and prepares.. TO BATTLE!

The lights readjust as WallStreet shakes his head and grabs a microphone.

WallStreet (looking at the ref), "Are you serious? Where the fluck is Flex McAllister and who the Hell is this piss-ant?"

The referee is shaking his head and implicating he doesn't know when suddenly in a very high pitch voice (kinda picture the Jeff Hardy promo at the end of the Undisputed title ladder match verses the Undertaker a few years ago on Raw) says, "HEY! WALLSTREET! Don'tchu underplay me dang it! I'm the WallRoad Fighter! Trained in sixteen forms of Ninja Turtle style kung fu! And, Kinda like Felix Theodore Newman and JT Kash, I'm BUD Approved bitch! I'm repin Felix cause like, he couldn't make it cause his career kinda died as fast as it started... But I'm gonna kick your BUTT!"

WallStreet looks Teddy Longfeather and says, "Is this kid serious? Get him out of here before he gets hurt and find me a real opponent. If Felix really isn't here then you go through that lockeroom and you find me an opponent. I promised the people my Double-You Two Kay in ring debut and by damn it they're gonna get it If I have to...."

Suddenly we see a steal chair come crashing across the back of WallStreet with limited, if any, force.

WallStreet looks at Flex who is holding the steal chair in hand...

Macklin, "That may have been a mistake..."

WallStreet brings the mic back up and says, "Put down the chair and save yourself kid. Just get out of the ring and go back to playing with action figure, you're not ready for this."

With that WallStreet turns his back to Flex and begins talking to Teddy Longfeather without the mic....

Crack. Again the chair is brought across Street's back, this time with a touch more force.

WallStreet turns around, "This is your last warning kid, get out of here... I will hurt you. I don't want to, but I will. I promised the world someone was tapping to the Dollar Sign... Don't volunter yourself."

WallStreet goes to turn again but this time swinging with all his strength (which still isn't much) Flex Mac-Allister leaps up and crakcs WallStreet over the head with the chair.

WallStreet nods, "Alright..."

WallStreet drops the mic and says something to the referee.... Upon that Teddy Longfeather calls for the bell.

Askin, "Oh My God... This is actually gonna be a match..."

Flex runs toward Street with the chair but WallStreet side steps, puts his arm out catching Flex by the shoulder, hoists him up, and then BAM! Stock Market Crash (Rock Bottom).

Macklin, "STOCK MARKET CRASH ON THE PRE-PUBECENT VERSION OF WALLSTREET!"

The crowd erupts as they chant : FUCK HIM UP WALLSTREET, FUCK HIM UP!, FUCK HIM UP WALLSTREET, FUCK HIM UP!, FUCK HIM UP WALLSTREET, FUCK HIM UP!, FUCK HIM UP WALLSTREET, FUCK HIM UP!, FUCK HIM UP WALLSTREET, FUCK HIM UP!...

Macklin, "The W2K Fans are rabid!"

WallStreet brings his hands up and locks his fingers....

Askin, "Uh-oh... The last time I saw that was..."

WallStreet reaches down, grabs Flex's legs and turns him over...

Macklin, "DOLLAR SIGN! WALLSTREET'S LOCKED ON THE DOLLAR SIGN!"

Crowd: TAP_BITCH_TAP, TAP_BITCH_TAP,TAP_BITCH_TAP,TAP_BITCH_TAP,TAP_BITCH_TAP...

It doesn't take long for the W2K fans to get their wish as Flex begins tapping like one of the men from Amber Michaels' old movies.

Teddy Longfeather instantly jumps up and calls for the bell as "Superstar II" By Saliva blasts over the PA but WallStreet maintains the Dollar Sign regardless.

Macklin, "WallStreet trying to send that message but I'm not sure this is the kid to do it through...."
Askin, "He's a terrorist, he doesn't care if he's beating up a kid or not."
Macklin, "HE'S NOT A DAMNED TERRORIST!"

Finally WallStreet releases the hold as he hops over Flex's body and grabs a mic, cuing the music to cut.

WallStreet, "Awe Hell No. I damn sure didn't come to W2K Cyberslam to see all of my fans get screwed out of their money. Hamid Ismali, I know you're anxious to get to the main event tonight, so if you really want this show to progresss then I sugest this... You go through the lockeroom and you find me somebody, anybody... I don't care if you have to put on a pair of boots yourself, or if you grab Kutter Flash's over grown ass and give him a non-title match against me... Grab Ace Hart, grab Bobby Johnson, You grab anybody you want... But I'm not leaving this ring til I get a legitimate competitor who can contest me for more than two minutes."

With that Hamid steps onto the ramp with a microphone in hand.