As the slow, rolling country boogie rhythm straight out of a Western movie crackled on my speakers, I could scream to myself, "WE'RE LIVE FROM MONTANA ON SIRIUS RADIO!" Of course, its never a good idea to scream suddenly in a backstage office with a water cooler directly next to a coffee heater and cigarette machine. Fun fact about NFW: Miles bans any sort of light cigarette from arenas, the office...anywhere. I heard some shady story about Ricky Zane's midget Mr. T now being NFW's janitor that has to pick them all up for inspection. If you don't believe any of this...Seymour Almasy DEFINITELY smoked a light cigarette at the Demolition Derby pre-party. Worse yet, it was a Parliament.

ANNNNNYWAY, as the always caffeinated Calamity shrieked into the microphones from his press box booth in Montana, 'Big in Japan' Sean Toombs laughed heartily as he proudly bellowed "I thought we banned pitching tents in the middle of the ring...y'know, the Beau Michaels rule?" This got Calamity to guffaw and go on some 60-second diatribe about how anal sex must be the best remedy for constipation since Billy Gray cut a promo. Of course, Calamity must've forgotten that 95% of NFW listeners probably aren't aware of the lower mid-card of our indy days. Naturally, everyone's wondering what the hell Toombs was smoking to see a pitched tent in the ring and this man has the answers.

Say what you will about the Wrestling Revolution, but for any fans wondering if all that Season 2 Mojo Monkey Magic was gone, never fear...'cause before every fan...possibly before the crew even set up...apparently, as the crowd filed into their General Admission seats...they saw a dirty, grimy, red tent pitched smack dab on the NFW Revolution star in the middle of the ring. Now, I know what you're thinking...'cause Calamity expressed it outwardly, "Are we going to get a re-enactment of that Teresa Q promo, where she bones the stoner post-Shark Tank riots?"

...unfortunately, no...not at all. Calamity was not amused, but I was.

FELIX RED VS. THE WORLD...seriously.

So, the crowd's buzzing and pointing towards the center of the ring, where the tent is pitched and a purple and red sleeping bag tosses and turns until a few security staff members start poking and prodding the tent, while the house lights start dimming. You can hear the crowd cheering mildly as Toombs wonders if someone's breaking Mayfield's "Anti-Clambaking" Initiative...Sure enough on cue, whoever's in that sleeping bag FINALLY get out and we get a Mach 5 Markout for FELIX RED stumbling out of the tent, dreads nappy and eyes crusty from sleep. The two security staff start pointing for Felix to get out of the ring and faster than you can say, "HEY, BRANDON YOUNGBLOOD FLAKED OUT AGAIN!"...Felix takes them both out with spinning heel kicks, getting the crowd roaring. Toombs and Calamity are besides themselves, loving the moment as Felix grabs a string to raise his own flag...which is basically a crudely drawn NFW star with a Crackpipe over it. On the pipe it reads, "LIGHT PIPES, NOT FIREBALLS!" Toombs surmises that Nova's been using MSPaint again.

Meanwhile, Felix SITS down in the middle of the ring, not saying a word to the fans...which causes them to start buzzing.

(CUEUP: VOODOO CHILE)

Calamity and Toombs groan, while the lights supposedly dim to 'showtime' status as EL PRESIDENTE EDDIE MAYFIELD stalks out in a huff with TEAM CUBA to his side. Raul slicks back his hair with a comb as Cojones gently pets his chair with an airbrushed image of Felix's face on it. Mayfield grabs the mic and starts giving Felix some lip service about how he's fallen down the ladder of NFW, his actions at SUPERCrash basically meaning that everything he's done is now FORGOTTEN here in NFW. Insert your Crowd boos, Mayfield pulls out a cigar and sticks it in his mouth. ...it remains unlit. OMINOUS.

(CUEUP: ...some weird chinese music?)

You could've sworn Shane Southern just came back.

"HOLY F'ING CRAP, BATMAN! ITS P. KING DUK!" -- Calamity, 3/11/08

As Calamity made our Quote Board, fans chanted "HOLY DUK! HOLY DUK!" Meanwhile, Felix sat motionless in the middle of the ring as Duk wowed the crowd with his kendo stick amusements before running to the ring and sliding in as Eddie apparently shouted, "LET'S GO GENERAL TSO!" Duk hit the ring delivering a sliding dropkick to the back of Felix's neck, rolling the former World Champion over. Duk grabs Felix by the dreads and wheelhouses him into the turnbuckles and starts rapid-firing with his chops, stops and backflips into the middle of the ring where he gives a Martial Arts demonstration until Red completely destroys him with a Yakuza Kick into the chest. Duk goes down like he gets shot, Eddie playing the 'smart' card apparently as this gets the crowd AGAINST Red 'cause the only wrestler more popular than Shane Southern was in NFW...is a freaking jobber that's been delivering Chicken Cashew on a bike for the last 3 years. So, Duk's convulsing on the mat, Felix hops up to the top turnbuckles and plants a picturesque Moonsault, while Calamity shoots beer out of his nose 'cause Duk hocks some spit 30 feet in the air upon impact.

Duk gets rolled out of the ring, plopping on his face and Felix returns to his starting sitting position on the mat as Mayfield enjoys the crowd boos for a moment. Then he nods to Raul and Cojones, which gets the crowd screaming for Felix to turn around as they circle around the ring to his blindside. Toombs starts getting in his "NO GET UP" mode as Calamity cackles that Felix Red's blood will fill up the plains of Montana and drown 1/2 the West's inbreds. Red intuitively uses the crowd screams to gauge Cojones' proximity charging in and siderolls out of the way. This gets Cojones completely out of his element, meaning...he's running more than two seconds. Felix ducks the rebounding "NO GET UP" CHAIRSHOT...and to the crowd's delight, Raul does NOT.

The man hasn't been seen four score and twenty years ago, but he hasn't lost a step.

Cojones looks wide-eyed in shock at Raul mumbling about Vidal's new hair gel line, takes the Felix Signature Spinning Heel Kick to the back of his crown, flipping over the ropes and out of the ring. Crowd gets fired up, but Eddie Mayfield rolls his eyes and starts walking back up the aisle...basically, saying he's had enough. Felix asks for the mic, crowd settles into a buzz and Red calls out Eddie for a match in the ring, so he can get FORKED FELIX style...

Eddie turns around laughing, nodding his head negatively as a whole squadron of INSURGENTS flank him. Felix takes the scene in, shrugs and says its either that...or he can see Eddie's ass in court for what happened at SUPERCrash. Felix tosses the mic out of the ring and re-engages his SIT-DOWN protest, now facing Mayfield and the Insurgents. With one signal hand motion pointing towards the ring with the unlit cigar, we've got the crowd and Calamity flipping their gourds 'cause five to ten camoflauged insurgents are barreling towards Red.

FAIL!

Felix kips up and knocks the first two off the apron with a split-legged dropkick. Felix takes out two more with a running clotheslines and catches another with a boot to the gut -- DEE DEE TEEEEEEEEEEEEE! [/O'CONNOR]. Spinning Heel Kick sends second to last out, while the last one in the ring looks around stunned at his fallen comrades. Felix slips in behind him, BOOM! ECSTASY OF THE AGONY. At this point, you may be thinking Eddie Mayfield's got to head into the ring.

Well, at this point...Eddie Mayfield's apparently contacted the Missoula Police Department, who storm the ring to a shocked Felix...

Now, I'm not going to say that anything was planted, but the plastic bag of white powder they found in Felix Red's tent looked an awful like baking soda. Next thing, the crowd's completely freaked out and eating their own narcotics as Felix is tackled by four cops, HANDCUFFED AND DRAGGED OUT. As the police abruptly escort Felix Red out of the scene, Eddie Mayfield enters the ring...

...proceeds to light the tent on fire...

...light his cigarette...

And then shout, "HIDE ALL YOUR OREGANO, BITCHES!"

WINNER: The fans who ate their own stash. WHAT A NIGHT THEY HAD! I don't know, three stars? Something got lit on fire.

LEGION versus "The Canadian Heartbreaker" BRET KELLY

And it seemed that the Grease Motif was continued, only making me think personally that Joe the Plumber might show up in the main event as the icing on the porcelain. As for Bret Kelly, the slicked back hair, broken pink heart singlet brought memories flooding back to alot of his NFW 1.0 work. That is to say that whoever stepped out of the curtains next was basically going to look very, very good.

Legion's music hit, the crowd immediately started booing. "For We Are Many" chants came from the speakers, not Missoula, Montana...'cause that'd freak the city-boy in me out the hell out. The last thing I need to know is that Mormons dig Legion. Kelly decides to take off his leather jacket just as the bell rings, proving that the 1980's style of wrestling still is in play somewhere in Alberta. Legion comes hammering in with a forearm knocking the greased-up 40 year old into the turnbuckles. With the whole premise of ANYONE showing up in NFW for a ONE-NIGHT FIGHT CLUB style booked show, you'd think Kelly might want to sit this one out and wait for WFW to book his town.

Legion clobbers the hell out of Kelly in the corner, reels him into a standing headscissors...OOF! POWERBOMB ON THE TURNBUCKLES.

Toombs expletives, Calamity comments that blood may be pouring out of Kelly's eyes. Missoula wakes the hell up as that move might be getting banned in North America, but Legion's not done as he starts dragging Kelly around the ring lifelessly...this proved the greatest miracle of all since Kelly's hair didn't slip through his grasp. AMAZING HAPPENS IN DAHLBERB, BABY.

Legion rolls Kelly onto this back, wraps him in some weird standing leglock and pulls him up with a chinlock. Kelly's screaming as Legion switches to a full hair pull and just when the Heartbreaker tried to tap he lets go slamming his head on the mat. You think that's bad?

CURBSTOMP. And for the first time in a long time, a NFW referee stops a match out of fear.

I didn't really think Kelly's teeth did it for the ladies anyway. Calamity muses why so many wrestlers die slightly bloated and toothless?

WINNER: LEGION via referee's decision

TEASERESA TITLE QUEUE

(CUEUP: ...umm...WEIRD MUSIC by WEIRD PEOPLE.)

Speaking of lovely Canadians that Legion would love to Curbstomp, Teresa Q's Mindless Self Indulgence music hits our ears as some crazy strobe laser light show engulfs the arena. Legion gets caught in a haze of smoke and rave universe as finally the FRONTIERtron crackles to life with Teresa herself backstage, chilling in the locker room and the National Championship neatly folded in her lap. She comments that Legion's barbaric arsenal looked a little impressive and since she's feeling giddy enough tonight, we're going to have a National Championship Main Event.

YAY! MARK! WOO!

She tells Legion that she'll give him that very shot tonight, if she can choose a real wrestler for him to face in 30 minutes.

ROOK BLACK.

SHOCK! AWE!

Teresa fades out, Legion looks around angrily. Lights fire on as Legion's music blares up, and that's the signal for "PEE BREAK."

NOVA vs. PHIL ATKEN

As Funkadelic hit the speakers in Missoula, Montana – one thing was known all across the arena. It had become time for Nova and Phil Atken to square off. The drunken Missoulan’s gave quite the reaction for Nova as he appeared from the darkness, probably not for the fact that he’s the EAGLEstar and more so for the fact that they’d be witnessing a well-rounded bout between two veterans backstage.

Nova made his presence felt around the arena as he stumbled out onto the ramp way towards the ring. Nova wouldn’t distinguish a fan for the life of him in this junk heap of a city as he continued down towards the ring, visibly drunk as a skunk.

And that’s about when “****in’ In The Bushes” by Oasis came to life and the crowd became instantly mortified as the one known as “YOUR Entertainment Savior” Phil Atken came from the backstage with his manager, Dirk flipping not one but two birds. ...Good 'ol Dirk.

The drunk hicks didn’t like his middle finger one bit, but God knows none of them would waste a beer on his attire for the life of them. So that was about it until action kicked off in the middle of the ring.

Action picked up immediately as both men wanted the first edge in the match-up, each showing their strength and desire in a trade of punches. Atken got the best of the altercation after cheaply poking Nova in the eye and eventually sizing him up with a dropkick to the shin. You've got a respect the men still willing to use that poke like its never going out of style.

Atken forced Nova to put pressure on it by pulling him to his feet and sending him into the opposing ropes to come back and receive a whiplash snap mare turned into a sleeper while Nova was seated. Considering the earlier activities, the crowd is somewhat surprisingly enthused that of all things to start showing NFW's resolve to WRESTLE, its Atken and Nova actually going that route. God bless, Dirk's Mickey Rooneyish growling on the outside, I'm not sure if Toombs is gonna start coughing up Pastrami he's laughing so hard.

Calamity starts guesstimating Dirk's sexual vitality and that's where I start tuning that show out.

Nova however battled through his sleeper attempt and used his elbow to gut wrench Atken’s hold to mercy. Nova then went flying off the opposing ropes to come back and turn Atken inside out with a monstrous clothesline.

Nova looked impressive this evening, most specifically at this point in the match-up using his technical mat skills and aerial abilities to overcome some issues Atken was having with stamina.

A high spot later in the match was the cradle suplex Nova landed in the middle of the ring that Atken literally stumbled into upon getting up from a Double Arm DDT.

The fans were on their feet but Nova could only reregister a two count. Atken seems to thrive off the near pinfalls, the fans hate him more and more after each one. He's got something killing our souls, I'll give him that.

As Nova went to pick Atken up to his feet, he couldn’t cover up in time and was put onto the ground through the use of a Low Blow. Classy guy, that Atken. ...and classic as he siderolls into a drunken Jagger strut that would've been less wobbly on rubber stilts.

He couldn’t have cared less as he picked the EAGLEstar up to his feet and hoisted him into the air with a stalling suplex that sent all Nova’s intoxicated blood rushing to his head before being slammed onto the mats. Not to sound crazy, but why are all stalled suplexes delivered best by cracked out fools?

Atken tried to cover up but was only rewarded an early two-count.

The pace of the match went back and forth until Nova, upon being sent into the ropes by an Irish Whip came back and hit a flying body splash that took Atken off his feet. As both men charged back up in attack mode, Nova beat him to the punch once again and took him down with the Dying Star Drop.

Atken was on the mats for just long enough as Nova signaled to the crowd he’d be going aerial as he hoisted himself onto the turnbuckle and landed the craziest modified moonsault Missoula had ever seen in the form of the CTRL-ALT-1337.

...AND ATKEN MOVED. The crowd was all like, WHOA! Nova was all like OW! And Toombs was like he's not eating pancakes anytime soon! Nova stumbled up, Atken torpedoed his knee like a Shaquille O'Neal posterizing a Vietnamese hooker. If you think that's bad, you should've heard Calamity commenting on Dirk's tale of Taiwanese Teenage Trysts in Thailand. He's a porn legend, he swears on his kids.

Atken delivered some elbows to the knee, started wrapping Nova into the Spinning Toe Hold working that knee for the Figure 4, when all of a sudden...

If I told you, I thought the roof was about to crumble down from God blowing a ram's horn...that would only begin to describe one-tenth of the soundwaves emanating over the Dahlberg Arena speakers. I kid you not, I thought some Viking God was about piss on the place, somehow making it engulf in flames. Meanwhile, while everyone's holding their ears...Dirk's barking like a tribe of Sandpeople.

If you've ever seen a Midget take off faster than Speedy Gonzalez on a gallon of crack oatmeal smothered in coconut cocaine milk...then you were in Missoula, Montana precisely at this moment. Atken leaned out the ropes, calling for Dirk to come back...

You'd think nobody in this sport in their right mind would do this during a wrestling match.

Not Phil Atken.

Not a shocking rollup.

...slightly shocking pull of the tights, but Nova's getting the hell off the schneid and not staying around to find out if Eddie Mayfield just sicced Powermaster on him either.

WINNER : NOVA via...Yak Horn interference? DIRK INTRIGUE~!?

BROCK ALYAS vs. IMPULSE

Brock Alyas.

Impulse.

Umm?

Huh?

A double decker sandwich debut match in Missoula, Montana. Say it five times after five shots of Sake and see how you're doing. Neither men got pyrotechnics. Both got their music as the fans simply buzzed as the house lights dimmed to a dull white over the NFW Revolution ring. Lee-Baby Sims got on the house mic explaining that the next match was the debut of two new Revolution rookies. Alyas looking like a giant next to the masked native of NYC, which got boos.

Bell rang and the two quickly locked up with Alyas gaining control in the corner and waylaying the smaller masked newbie with some stiff rights to the side of the head. Alyas quickly showed his laser focus as Impulse tried to get away, but only suffered some thunderous forearms to the back of the head and found himself quickly in a reverse waistlock. Impulse realized the jig was up, broke it up with a back elbow to the bridge of the rose and launched towards the ropes...Alyas brushed off the noseblow and rumbled in with a kitchen sink knee. Impulse gets up and he's in a bad place...Alyas vaults him with an Overhead Belly to Belly, but Impulse flips out on his feet! Alyas scurries up as Impulse jumps to the turnbuckles and launches back off with a Moonsault Dropkick! Calamity and Toombs are trying to call the match, but its not in their job description.

Alyas must've been infused with some grizzly spirit as he stays on his feet, stumbling into the turnbuckles. Impulse gets up a little slowly and deals with Alyas charging out with a running forearm. Impulse gets knocked for a loop and having problems with Alyas' size immediately. Alyas kicks him in the gut, reels him in, STOMP! Snap Suplex! Alyas holds the lock in and spins them back up for Round 2! ...FISHERMAN'S PLEX! Impressive, Most Impressive. Calamity digs, Toombs wants to see some spitfire.

Impulse breaks the chain gang, Alyas gives the time-honored and traditional scowl of Mister Angry Suplex Machine, but I'm gonna be OK with that as he POPS THE HIPS! Northern Lights out in Montana! Another two-count as Iimpulse is showing some heart early on. Alyas argues with the ref as he leans over, waiting for Impulse as he gets up. Impulse staggers, Brock stars locking for Tiger Style, but the masked man spins it all around before both arms are locked and has his own hammerlock in place. Brock wheels around trying to reverse, but Impulse does a fancy legsweep keeping the hammerlock in place and quickly segues it all down into a bridging hammerlock as Brock's not very happy. Calamity calls Impulse limber and we're all a little uncomfortable.

Brock works his way out, Impulse gets him back with a drop toe hold and pounces back down with a sliding dropkick. Brock staggers up and gets a ribcracking sidekick to the ribs which gets the crowd wincing, but the masked rookie sends Brock down the rails with a DDT and all of a sudden, we're all convinced in Missoula...

...hey, these two aren't being converted to WRESTLE.

Ah yes, the air smells fresher and slightly stranger in NFW. Millions of voices crying out in Nova's head to do bad things...

On the serious side, Impulse and Alyas did show a nice clash of styles showing some scars all around. Impulse was taking too many high impact tosses, while Alyas was getting into a frenzied high-paced affair that was getting him near-gassed at the 15 minute mark. High marks for Alyas was the Cradle Tombstone reversal out of a Rana attempt, but he definitely showed some smoothness with the Exploder Suplex. Meanwhile, Impulse hit a blind Moonsault Plancha, which got the crowd freaked on all ends and he hit a smacking Shooting Star Press that nearly won the match.

Impulse's missed 450 did him in though, Brock rolled out of the way and Impulse's impact bounced him up to his feet immediately...that left Impulse open to Brock rushing in and catching him with a THUNDEROUS Vertical Drop Exploder and got the 3 count victory. Calamity likes Impulse's style, Toombs likes Alyas'. In other news, the sky is blue and naked old women should never be expressed as strangely erotic to anyone you know.

WINNER: BROCK ALYAS via Vertical Drop Exploder. We're over three stars, we've got hope for the future.

LEGION vs. ROOK BLACK

Rook's music plays and he comes out with Teresa in his corner. The lights die down, the fans wait for Legion's music...and for a little too long, nothing happens. Teresa reaches for the mic and just as she's about to speak...Legion's music hits and we've possibly got a go.

Legion takes his sweet time getting to the ring, smirking like he's got a plan and slides in the ring with his own microphone in tow. Apparently, he's got something to say.

...Apparently, Rook Black wasn't about to care as Legion's second word was "my-oomph!"

Rook Black's here to wrestle and I'm not exactly sure if that's because Teresa Q said "Viva La Revolucion" or not, but for someone that got betrayed as badly as Rook he didn't seem that non-plussed about the situation to begin with. Rook's opening shoulderblock takedown into the seguing armdrags and hiptosses had the crowd excited, but confused at the lack of...well, BLOODLETTING.

Legion left the ring, Rook slid out and met him...rolling him back in.

Instituting the new Way of the Peaceful Warrior, Rook displayed some seriously nifty takedowns, minor submissions and quick strikes that had Legion bumbling and stumbling out of the gate. Toombs, Calamity and Teresa reminding Legion on all levels that Rook Black was ONCE a wrestler...

...of course, he wasn't THIS wrestler either as Legion eventually turned things up a notch with a nasty rake of the eyes, headbutt, kick to the gut and kneelift that whiplashed Rook into Never, Never Land. Calamity gave the expressed expert opinion about that's what Rook gets for wrestling like Gandhi. Legion starts bashing in with the stomps, the face scratching and vicious punches on Rook's skull. He's laughing, he's smiling, Rook trips him up and goes for the sunset flip, gets a faceful of fist instead.

Legion gets the mount and starts playing the whack-a-mole game with Rook's head, but Rook scissors his arm and locks an armbar in. Legion quickly gets the ropes, Rook breaks cleanly and Teresa looks miffed with Rook. This distracts Rook and allows Legion to nearly decapitate him with a clothesline. Legion starts going on another barrage of brutality, until Teresa loses patience and shouts at Rook that he needs to HURT Legion.

Yeah, well...talk about flipping on a light switch.

The next thing anyone knows, Rook's got his fingers locked in Legion's nostrils as he's moving along with a headbutt train of repetition. Legion's all conked out and that's when Rook starts trying to rip his tongue out! The crowd immediately panics knowing Rook's past with Steve Christ and Legion's bailing out of the ring faster than Rickey Henderson on a speedball. Teresa's not sure what to think, Legion's not-so-shocked, but also not dealing with THAT and leaves the ringside area to a chorus of boos -- National Championship be damned.

WINNER: ROOK BLACK via COUNTOUT...can someone explain the concept of "taking things with a grain of salt" to this guy?

EVERETTE MEMORIAL TA--Ok, maybe not

Next up, we've got Queen's music blaring and the Dream Team coming out to a mixed reaction. They hold up some mystery paper in the air and discuss how the Hollywood Wrecking Crew tried to secretly issue an open challenge for their titles to the NFW roster through a private fax to the NFW offices. Lucky for them, Gordey's apparently banging one of our office interns, Allison and they've got their own copy and want to cash in.

YAY! POP! MARK!

Eddie Mayfield hits ringside, he consorts with the referees.

By god we're official.

Dream Team starts getting in the ring, Sevendust starts playing as Calvin Carlton and Malik Anderson make their way down to ringside area. I'm sure everyone's noticing the very important and missing portion of the HWC triad -- specifically, the H...Blaine Hollywood. He's nowhere to be found and suddenly we've got the FRONTIERtron crackling to life. Sure enough, there's a closeup of a white limo in the parking lot and reporter Richard Smitty Reese knocking on its windows. In his efforts to get an accord with Blaine, the windows do finally roll down slowly as Blaine pokes his head out the window and proclaims that the Dream Team have NOT earned an ENCORE performance with Blaine Hollywood.

Way to piss off a whole arena, Blaine.

Calvin gets on the mic and says that him and Malik can defeat the Dream Team. He hops on the apron, immediately eating a HUGE BIG BOOT from Brian Duncan. The crowd pops slightly, but the referee counting out the Hollywood Wrecking Crew erases suspicion over who Missoula goes home hating the most.

...The arena is then informed that Eddie Mayfield has fired Allison. OUCH.

TERESA Q (c) versus....THE HYPERSPACE KID