With Ms. Moreau & ‘Lumber’ Jill in their respective corners, the Manic Mauler and the Twisted Timber Slayer await the sound of the bell. Carson comes to the centre, but Jim isn’t quite so anxious, he circles his quarry instead. Over the ravings of the 280 pounder and his fervent urging to lay on, the woodsman’s feral eyes betray little sign of any effect and continue to size up the opposition. At length, Jim makes a quick movement and lays in a heavy right hand, but receives one in turn. Jim rolls to the outside and decides to review the situation. A greasy grin is once again on Jim’s face as he surveys his opponent’s maniacal countenance from the cement. He gets back inside, moving with limber rapidity that one would not expect for a man of his stature. He obliges the Harbinger of Hell with a collar and elbow, and holds his own for a time, before being forced into the corner. Sensing the desperate state he’s in, Jim gives a kick to the guts and head-butt to extradite himself from whatever Sick Nick might have had in store. A solid left buts Carson on his ass and another head-butt sees his rising curtailed as well. Jim hits the ropes but hasn’t done as much damage as he thinks and gets floored by shoulder block.

Jim got a little ahead of himself there, he wasn’t thinking straight.

You think either of these guys thinks straight? They’re a couple of psychos that oughta be on the funny farm.

I’d rather see them go at it in the ring partner, this should be a great contest.

The Agent of Chaos quickly drops an elbow and makes a cover, only to come up with a one count as Jim scoots out the back door. Pulling him to his feet, Nick lambastes the logger and sends him stumbling. Jims head and shoulders wind up between the two topmost strands surrounding the ring and Carson is hot on his heels. The Lord of Lunacy grasps his foe’s noggin and wrenches back, splaying the Canadian’s chest across the top rope and forcing his head backward at an awkward angle. A clubbing blow across the breastbone sends Jim to the outside for a second time in the contest, as the referee heads off Carson’s pursuit and starts to lay in the count. When the nightmarish behemoth step to his corner to await events, Moreau gets on the apron and whispers her treatment into the big man’s ear, enlisting some hooting from the crowd and a light ‘Polly Pocket’ chant, which she ignores.

I don’t get why these idiot fans keep chanting that at her.

Come on Joe, she’s Polly Pocket, you know that.

Whaddaya mean?! They talk different, they dress different, Ms. Moreau has her degree and Polly’s an ditsy little airhead. Is it because they’re both blonde? Do all blondes look the same to you Teddy? That’s racist.

Jim gets back inside somewhere between six and seven and goes back to the gut kick / head-butt combo that paid dividends earlier in this encounter. He forgets his prior experience however when he tries to trade blows with Old Saint Nick, and ends up on the receiving end of a trio of straight right hands, before going to the throat and stopping the onslaught. A ragged boot to the head occupies Carson while Jim regains his bearings. He snatches Carson in a headlock and drags him to the ropes where he gives a lesson on the finer points of friction by running his head along the top strand. Ignoring the admonishment of the official, the perverse pulp peeler lands another head-butt and drags Nick out of the corner and into a short clothesline. Going for the cover, the lumberman is foiled by a kick-out at two. Seemingly unfazed, he sinks in a reverse chinlock, taking the opportunity to whisper his own tales into Carson’s auricle. Carson grimaces and futility grabs a handful of beard in the hopes of staunching the downward pressure applied by Big Jim. In time, his vision beginning to blur, he manages to regain his stance and send a shabby blow back into the birler’s head with enough force to free himself. He follows up with a few more stiff shots but the logger kicks out his legs and forces him to take a knee. Using his own leg joints, Jim hits a running knee lift that has his opposite seeing stars. Following up with a stomp to the chest, he brings Nicky Boy to the turnbuckle and slams his head into it. When he tries to repeat his success across the ring however, he comes up short and ends up tasting the buckle himself.

Should know better than to attack the head of Nick Carson, it was broke years ago.

I'll say. this guy's head's empty as a church on a week-day.

Big Nick heaves Jim to the outside, but this time opts to give chase. Exiting the ring he runs up a head of steam and bowls over the rising woodsman with a clothesline. Not through yet however, he takes up the man from the Black Rapids and hurls him head first into the retaining wall. Yet Carson proves his own tendency toward zeal is equal to that of his opposition when he sets up for an Irish whip into the ring stairs, but gets sent into them himself, colliding shoulder first. The Sou’West Savage gets back inside and has time enough to drop a leg on his opponent as he climbs into the squared circle after him. Jim stomps away on the prone form of the man from Parts Unknown, then drops down and peppers his cranium with fists. Finally, he begins biting the forehead of Carson, seemingly looking to open him up. The ref has seen enough and, forsaking his own count, wedges his arm between Jin and his prospective meal and pries him loose. Jim doesn’t take too kindly to this interruption and the two men trade barbs until the man I stripes reminds the grappler where the power lies in this match. Big Jim waves his hands dismissively ad returns to the action, getting big haymaker from Carson as a welcome. Jim replies with a wild shot of his own but Nick ducks and gets a side slam on the logger. A cover by the lunatic produces only a two count before Jim rolls the shoulder.

Near fall there by Carson, he could finally be getting some traction off that side slam. Things could be shifting to his advantage. Jim should have spent less time biting and more time setting his opponent up for the victory.

Are you joking? It was all that referee’s fault, everyone saw it. He’s got no business physically intervening in the match; that’s what his disqualification count is for.

Well maybe you better put on the stripes, since you know all the rules.

To Hell with that, not for what those free-loaders get paid.

Carson backs off and sets himself in the far corner, beckoning for Jim to rise and telegraphing a spear to the delight of the assembled masses. Jim begins to oblige, but grabs the referee and begins to use him as a means of aiding his assent to verticality. Carson thinks he’s got a clear shot and risks the collateral damage of the official, but finds his back foot immobilized by the Lady Logger. The two trade a baleful glance, before the erstwhile psychologist , and sometime wrestler, Ms. Moreau intervenes on her patient’s behalf and there’s a full-blown donnybrook on the outside that has the crowd on its feet and a ‘we want puppies’ chant from the Attitude era remnants.

CAT FIGHT!!! CAT FIGHT!!

Calm down Joe, and for God’s sake put your hands where I can see them.

Back in the ring, Carson gets caught gawking and rolled up in a schoolboy, but escapes at a count of two. He lands a big right hand on the pulp hook punisher, but his charge is ill-timed and he gets sent to the post for his trouble. Jim slaps the Pulp Hook claw on his opposition and begins to break him down to the mat, but before anything decisive can happen, Ms. Moreau enters the ring and hits the low blow on the logger. Jim falls like a toppled oak, clutching his acorns, and Moreau goes to tend to her patient. The referee meanwhile has called for the end of the match, but the bell is in the hands of Jill, who clocks the rising Carson a glancing blow, before trading shots with adversary from the outside. As a full-on pier sixer begins, a huge explosion goes off as "Down With The Sickness" by Disturbed blasts through the Public Address system, beginning at the first chorus. As the smoke clears from the explosion, GM Thomas Barnez is seen standing in the center of the stage. With mike in hand, he calls for an end of the action inside. Declaring he might not have much time and power left, he assures one and all that he won’t end Saturday Night Rage on a bullshit DQ finish. Channeling his inner Theodore Long, he demands this match restart as a mixed tag.

Well the fans are getting more than their money’s worth tonight.

I’ll say, four nuts for the price of two.

And Polly Pocket still has to square off for the ladies title later tonight!

What does that have to do with anything?

Once all four combatants are arranged in the ring, and Moreau has entrusted her spectacles to the ringside attendant, the match is ready to restart. The ladies start off, grappling in their street clothes and hooking up with each other mid-ring. Jill makes good use of her size advantage and shoves off the smaller woman. She takes the opportunity to celebrate this minor victory but Moreau gestures that a shove proves nothing and the two lock up again. The scrappy psychiatrist grabs a side headlock and takes her opposition over to the mat. A quick cover doesn’t resolve anything, so the sometime pixie drags the lumbering lass to her feet, only to send her to the canvas again with a snap suplex. A second cover is no more successful than the first and so Moreau grabs and arm and wrings it out, but Jill delivers a knee to the solar plexus and clubbing blow to the lumbar area, before making a tag to Jim.

Jill’s showing a little rust here Teddy, she’s usually not that slow to start.

Too many nights in the woods you figure?

I gave up trying to figure out what makes that chick tick.

I’d bet Ms. Moreau would have a field day is she got Jill on her couch.

I’d pay to see it…

Jim swings from the heels, but Moreau ducks the titanic blow and makes a tag of her own. Sick Nick gains the advantage quickly by means of a running clothesline as Jim tries to regain his position. Nick drops an elbow and picks up his doctor from the apron and, in an atomic-style drop, spikes a legdrop by Moreau unto the woodsman’s prone form. After a forceful legdrop of his own Carson goes for the cover but only manages a two before Jim rolls out the back door. In another show of his gargantuan strength, Carson picks Jim up off the mat into a powerslam, but before he can execute Jill chop-blocks the leg and sends both combatants tumbling down to the mat. The twisted timber slayer gets to his feet and starts to work on the injured leg of his opponent. Setting the limb on the bottom rope and elevating it slightly, Jim crashes down upon it with all of his 200+ pounds. Once again, Jim flashes his bean-brown smile at the crowd and receives his usual mixed reaction. He makes a tag to Jill and opts to give a parting suplex to the lunatic, which the Tomogonops Terror is more than happy to assist in. Yet, they’ve toyed about too long and, with a maniacal bellow, Carson lifts both Jim and Jill into the air and lands a double suplex of his own before tagging out.

Whoa! I don’t even think Nicholas Carson knows how strong he is.

There’s a lot that troll doesn’t know, but he’s as strong as he needs to be and if the woods weirdoes didn’t know it before, they do now.

Moreau comes in and quickly hits a rising Jill with a clothesline. She whips her adversary into the buckle and ducks a feral charge from the wounded woodsman and sends him careening into his partner. The Harbinger of Hell can almost read his shrink’s mind as he re-enters the fray and avalanches both Canadians, sandwiching them against the padded steel. Moreau gets to the top and hits a crossbody block on a stumbling Jill, but the Nor’West Nymph kicks out at two. Jim moves to assist, but Carson snatches him up in a colossal spinebuster. Jill hops on Nick’s back, trying to get a sleeper hold synchs in, but the massive paw of the Agent of Chaos drags her on to the floor. Jim spins his opponent around and tries for a kick, but gets caught and spun by Carson before catching a bulldog from Moreau. She rolls out, clutching her tailbone, but the match seems well at hand. Carson grabs Jim and straddles his head, setting up for the leaping piledriver, but Jill introduces old Saint Nick to the Cedar Butt, before Gong t the outside to deal with Moreau. Jim lifts Carson up and across his back, setting up for the Hermit Hangover and the win. 1-2-3