Briar Lane: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! On the way to the ring, from Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, standing 5 feet 8 and weighing in at 155 pounds, FIIIIIIIIIYALLLIIIIII!!!!
Firyali struts toward the ring, swinging her shoulders and taking wide steps.
Dominga: Look at this idiota.
Shamoon: I mean, she's confident.
Dominga: She looks ridiculous! Tonye Carrera's a legend, but why are half of his students such goofballs?
Firyali climbs on the apron and looks out at the Honiaran faithful. She walks to the corner and hops onto it, pointing at the sky once more before descending.
A.B.: Carrera always treated wrestling like a dance. It's why he was always smooth as silk in that ring. Firyali, like her fellow students: Roger Evans, Paloma Vargas and Mostafa Nasr, have all shown that same level of technical excellence and athleticism. Unfortunately, there does seem to be a plague of arrogance in that group because I could not understand what would possess her to take THIS match.
A series of numbers flashes on the big screen. 4. 13. 23. 30. 4. 13. 23. 30. 4. 13. 23. 30. Over and over this sequence repeats as a big, black owl creature flies closer and closer, reaching out with its talons and SCREECHING.
Fireworks explode-
Shamoon: AAAAHHH!!!!
- and an intense guitar solo plays, equal parts fast tempo, night-riding and haunting. Athiambo, clad in all black but without her feathered coat and sunglasses, makes her way out onto the field to the ring, her uncannily owl-like face and large yellow eyes visible for all to see.
Briar Lane: The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a 10-minute time limit. Introducing first, from Mombasa Island off the coast of Kenya, standing 5 feet 10 and weighing in at 165 pounds, The Dark Talon, ATHIAMBO!
A.B.: Last week, Athiambo defeated a very game Chica Dorada to extend her win streak to Four and O-
Dominga: And it's about to be 5 after she makes mincemeat out of this idiot!
Athiambo climbs the steps and walks along the apron, all the while keeping her eyes on Firyali, who has discarded her jacket and sunglasses.
Shamoon: That stare, man. Words just can't do it justice. Makes my skin crawl.
A.B.: A credit to Firyali that she doesn't seem afraid.
Dominga: Which is why she's a fool!
Athiambo climbs the turnbuckle and perches on it, staring down her opponent, who, like Kalavina Leota two weeks ago, comes closer.
The Dark Talon's brows don't move, but her eyes do. With Leota, whom she respects, they smiled. With Firyali, they narrow in obvious offence.
Dominga: Oooooooh, she's about to hurt this girl.
Referee Marcia Lima pushes Firyali back, and Athiambo hops down from her perch, standing straight and staring ahead. Firyali twists her wrists and raises her fists, her earlier smirk replaced by a hardened focus.
After holding out her arms to keep them apart, Lima calls for the be-
A growling female voice yells “Faavalevale!” and the crowd comes completely unglued.
Dominga: What?
Shamoon: Huh?
A deep male voice yells “Porangi!” then an even deeper male voice roars “Vale!” All three then together scream, "MADNESS!" before a deep bass guitar and tribal drums are heard.
Lulu Asovale comes out first, her beaded braids covering her eyes. Hunapo Henare and Kaivao Manu flank her, rolling shoulders and frothing at the mouth, respectively.
A.B.: IT'S THE MADNESS! The Madness are here! The Madness are in Honiara!
The three powerful Polynesians stalk towards the ring as the manic Melanesian crowd is on their feet, equal parts cheering and booing.
Shamoon: But there's a match going on! W-What are they doing out here?
Dominga: Whatever the hell they want!
The trio circles the ring, only to stop on one side of the apron and then claim it. Athiambo and Firyali turn away from each other, watching the predators enclose on them. Lima sees what's coming and ducks out of the ring.
A.B.: This is not good. This is not good at all!
Firyali frantically turns her face every which way, holding up her hands.
Firyali: Come on! Bring it!
Athiambo, however, remains upright, hands to her sides. She turns toward the unoccupied apron and exits the ring. Firyali sees this and is astonished.
Shamoon: What the- Athiambo's leaving!
Dominga: Of course, she's leaving!
A.B.: Athiambo abandoning the ring- AND NOW THE MADNESS ARE ATTACKING FIRYALI! THE SAMOAN SICKO! THE MAORI MENACE! THE TONGAN TERROR! THEY'RE TEARING FIRYALI APART!
Shamoon: WHY? WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS? What did she even do?
Dominga: BECAUSE THEY CAN! She should have left while she had the chance!
A.B.: Firyali's trying to move! Trying to fight back! But they're too big! Too many!
Henare grabs Firyali by her blond dreadlocks and hits her in the throat with a Samoan Spike. Asovale then brings her 240 pounds down on the grounded Angel with a Senton Splash. She moves out of the way as Manu runs the ropes and brings all of his 350 pounds down on Firyali with a Body Splash.
Throughout this assault, Athiambo continues her path to the back without so much as looking back.
Dominga: This is how Goldilocks and the Three Bears should have ended!
Shamoon: SOMEBODY STOP THIS!
Asovale: Pick her up! PICK HER UUUUUUP!!!!
A.B.: Oh, God, not this. Not this!
Henare and Manu force Firyali to her feet and drape her arms over their shoulders. They then lift her with a belly-to-back hold and place her legs on Asovale's shoulders.
A.B.: TRIPLE POWERBOMB!!!
Manu lets out a roar and Henare a howl. Asovale steps over Firyali's crumpled form and demands a microphone.
Asovale: HOOOONIIIIIIAAAAAARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!
The mixed shout of the crowd of 10,000 is even louder.
Asovale: WELCOME TO THE MAAAADHOOOOOUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSEEE!!!
She drops the microphone and spreads her arms as the music returns. Henare to her left starts howling again. Manu to her right headbangs away as security guards, led by Chief Brendan Steele, sprint out and swarm the ring.
Dominga: Took them long enough.
A.B.: The Madness get dragged out of here in irons. Hopefully to the nearest animal shelter, pack of dogs.
Shamoon: So much for their "face turn" last week.
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