Big Jim gingerly passes his trademark moose skin to the ringside attendant, giving it a parting stroke, and turns to face the man from the Bronx. The two men hook-up, Alex with a few inches on the woodsman and Jim with a few pounds on the Hitman. The collar and elbow sees them range along the leeward side of the ring, sliding along the ropes and into the far corner. Now Alex has the best of it, then Jim seems to take control, and soon their hopelessly mired and the official intervenes, calling for the break. Alex obliges, and Jim too seems to be game, but he jams a dirty thumb into the Highlight’s eye as he backs off. Grabbing a headlock, the birler tries to bear down but is cast into the ropes, returning with a shoulder tackle and quick cover that barely registers a one count. Jim lets Alex regain verticality and the two tie-up once again and now it’s the Anti-Hero who comes up with a side headlock. His head ringed by the constricting arms of his foe, Jim backs the opposition into the ropes and sends him off, ready with a kick for when the Hitman returns. However, he doesn’t get the chance as the man who steals the show comes off the taut strands with a dropkick which sends the logger to the mat and elicits a cheer from the marks at ringside.

Jim wasn’t expecting that!

Damn right, this guys used to wrestlin’ moose and such, they don’t get that kind of air when they kick ya.

Well I doubt they hit as hard as Hitman Alex.

There is no way that that statement is anything but bullshit.

After an unfulfilling cover that granted him only a two count, Mr. COA opts to take the pins out from under the wounded whistle punk. Channeling the in-ring essence of Rugged Ronnie Garvin, he stomps the legs of the Canadian, before dropping a pair of well-placed knees to the throat of his opponent. Backing off to gather a head of steam, Alex tries to drop a third knee, but Big Jim rolls clear. Scrambling to his feet, and limping slightly from the earlier onslaught, the Black Rapids Brute lays in a series of sharp kidney punches, always careful to keep his body between the blows and the scrutiny of the referee. Finding Alex in position, the pulp hook punisher reaches behind his opponent's back to hook the head, hooks the leg with his own, and falls backward, pulling Alex to the mat back-first. The Russian legsweep is good enough to score Jim a near fall, but can’t finish the job this early in the contest.

That’s a trademark hold by Jim, but he’s executed it too early Joe. Is he getting desperate?

Hey, he saw an opening and he went for it. Just like in the bedroom, sometimes a lucky move can seal the deal.

Jim, still in control, grabs the head of his foe and drags him to his feet. The lumberman’s feral left hand shot is blocked, and Alex replies with a European uppercut and a dropkick, both of which rock the New Brunswicker and send him to a knee. Getting behind the man from Miramichi, Mr. Reasonable Doubt clamps on a reverse chinlock, laying all of his 230lbs across Jim’s back in an effort to wear him down. Jim emits a series of untamed hoots, reaching vainly for something to free himself. When the official comes in, ostensibly to check and make certain the hold hasn’t developed into a choke, he leaves without a strip of his striped shirt, thanks to the grasping clutches of the logger. Jim’s eyes get glassy and pins of light invade his eyes, recalling his famous exploits on East Hastings and Main during his years on the Redwood Wrestling Circuit in Vancouver. When it seems as if all is lost, he spies the moose skin, beckoning from the attendant`s table. Eyes afire, and reaching for the security of the hide, the Sou`West Savage manages to get his feet under him and break out of the Hitman`s embrace with the aid of a few elbows to the solar plexus. Yet, the Man that Steals the show isn`t about to let the opportunity for victory slip away, and so lands a headbutt to stun his woodsy foe. He positions himself under one of Jim's arms, wraps around the logger’s neck and back, then grabs the leg and tosses him backwards. Jim lands with a thud that puts the crowd on its feet and a lump in the throat of any stray Big Jim fans.

What are they groaning for? You can’t hurt that head.

What an exploder suplex there by Hitman Alex, that has to be it.

Don’t count on it, Jim’s as slippery as deer guts on a glass door knob.

Cletus?

Yep.

Jim stays alive however, kicking out of the proceeding cover at about 2 ½ . Alex is more impressed than anything by the woodsman’s initiative, and pleased at the prospect of ladling out more punishment. He waits for the Canadian to arise, coaxing him all the while, and then lays him flat with a running clothesline. Jim hurries to his feet, acting more on instinct and luck than right judgement, and manages to hook the arm of the next clothesline attempt and roll into a neckbreaker, which affords him a moment of respite as both men are now on the mat. Jim rolls on top of his adversary to claim the victory, but only ends up with a two count. The perverse pulp peeler then proceeds to grab the Highlight’s legs, steps in front of the Bronx native’s arms, and stretches the legs backward; an excruciating stump puller. Alex’s face is contorted in pain, while Jim’s is somewhat more tranquil, totally in control and relishing a human contact he is so often denied. His eyes open a good deal wider however, when the Hitman manages to summon up his strength and roll the lumberman forward; a pinning combination that Jim quickly escapes from. Embarassed at having almost defeated himself, Jim is a touch to rash and speeds into a kick to the gut from the centre of attention, and a follow-up DDT.

Whoa! Big Jim walked into that one.

He sure did partner; it goes to show how you always need to be aware of your position in the ring.

That, and maybe he should have given more on that stump puller. Hard to DDT a guy if your hip is out of its socket…

Alex is still a little jarred, and against his better judgement is coerced by the fans into waiting for the HKO. The chants are all around him and so, he acquiesces and cajoles the man from the Black Rapids to rise so as to fall definitively. Jim does, but when he feels the hook around his head he counters with a backslide attempt. The two men, their arms locked together strain against each other, but it is the New Yorker who triumphs, turning Jim inside and powerslamming him to the mat. He stomps the head of the Canadian, drives him into the buckle, and finally mounts him to deliver a series of hard shots to his cranium. The referee steps in, beefing about the closed fists, but only draws the ire of the ex-champion. Backed into the corner, the arbiter feels it’s necessary to point out where the power lies in this contest, from a regulatory if no physical standpoint. Alex breaks off and returns to the action, but Jim’s lying in wait. As the Hitman turns him over, he’s blinded by a sudden flash, as the Sou’West Savage looses the fireball. Stumbling, the Highlight is sent into a trough courtesy of the Hermit Hangover.

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