Havoc in Heaven 2012

Every now and then, I lapse back into a fascination with professional wrestling, and I frequently look over the original dream card I had constructed way back in 2011. And I still attest: it's a damn fine event, with swarths of talent and a nice mix of variety to keep things fresh and interesting. However, I can't help but think two things: one, there are so many other talented wrestlers who I just couldn't fit on the schedule, and two, it's far too safe.

All of the matches, save for the Angle/Hart main event, happened in some way, shape or form in the past. Storm/Jericho... Guerrero/Benoit... Rock/Austin/Kane/Foley... I went with what I knew, and what I liked. It didn't really stretch the 'what if' factor that makes these cards so much fun. So I've decided to fire the thinkin' box back up, this time reaching deeper into the echelons and trying to really assemble a lineup that is fun and exciting.

The only qualifier: nobody from the first event can make a return. As you might have fathomed, almost all of my favourite wrestlers are in there. If I recycled some of them, it would defeat the purpose and limit the variation. This is a new dream card, not 'how many ways can we squeeze Lance Storm into a PPV'. That'll come another day, probably.

So tonight, grab a front row seat and witness the mayhem. Gorilla Monsoon and Jesse 'the Body' Ventura have the call. Let's get this havoc underway!!

The venue: Skydome
Screw 'Rogers Centre', it will always be the goddamn Skydome to me. You may think that holding this event in Toronto, Canada would infer that the America vs. Canada angle is making a return, but I assure you that it has run its course. Also, in case you're wondering, the year is 2012, because why would we have not had the event every year?

The dark match: 1-2-3 Kid & Juventud Guerrera vs. Tajiri & The Hurricane
Tag
So without the underlying storyline to play around with ('sif I'd cut off the Canadian national anthem), I need something spicy to get things going in the early stages. What better way of doing that then pitting some cruiserweights against one another?

Sean Waltman may have seen his greatest success as the detestable X-Pac, but I actually liked his earlier work. Sure, 1-2-3 Kid isn't really the most threatening moniker in the world, but he was fun as the underdog babyface, back when you could still run that kind of persona and not be booed. As for Juvy, he was more of the modern day face; edgy and exciting, with more flips and loops than Green Hill Zone.

Over on the other side, you have two more grounded lightweights in Tajiri and the Hurricane. I'm not usually a fan of excessive gimmicks, but to me, the Hurricane was damn good fun. Helms just committed to that schtick 100%, and you'd kind of forget in the process that he was a solid grappler, to boot. As for Tajiri? Yeah, you know what I'm thinking... the best sounding kicks in the business. Every time Tajiri laid the boot to his opponent, it seemed like it hit with bone-crushing power. His overall wrestling technique was just about flawless, and yet I feel as though he was never really featured as the premier cruiserweight talent. He held the belt a few times, but he was lumped a little too much with the 'so solly' Asian bit. Hence why I preferred him as a heel, where he was more sinister.

Anyhow, this match has all of the razzle dazzle of high flying spots mixed in with submissions by Tajiri and Hurricane to slow things down and hold the pace. To keep the crowd on-side, the match starts with 1-2-3 Kid attempting to shake Tajiri's hand. While the referee is distracted by Hurricane on the outside, the Kid receives a face full of mist. Nasty old Tajiri! You'd think the ref would notice that Waltman's face was now inexplicably green.

The final spot sees Hurricane about to attempt the double chokeslam, only to be kicked to the mat by his opponents, who then proceed to do some kind of exciting synchronised flipping attack off of the turnbuckles. The finish gets a big pop, but after the pin, they all need to get out of there fast, before the buzz dies down. Cameras rolling, the rest of the world never gets to know about the spectacular match. Kind of sad, in a way.

1. Razor Ramon (c) vs. Petey Williams for European championship
Singles
I was never much of a Scott Hall fan as a kid, because by the time I got into wrestling the man was more of a caricature of himself than anything else. He did some serious damage, which is sad, because back when he was Razor Ramon, he was slick as hell. He was one of the finest heels of all time, with little more than a smug grin and a thumb to the eye. His opponent, one Petey Williams, is a wrestler I'm only getting to know now. He's a peppy fellow for sure with some awesome tricks up his sleeve.

Keep in mind that this is Scott Hall in his prime here, where he was routinely disposing of smaller opponents, so this looks at first a lot like a squash match. Williams is just taking bumps left, right and center, with Razor taking the opportunity to do things like hold Petey over his head, fling him over the ropes, and just completely dominate. Somehow, Petey still kicks out of every pin attempt, and Razor appears visibly annoyed as the match goes on.

Then, bit by bit, Petey gets his licks in, using his agility to fluster Razor and show off his high-flying capabilities. Suddenly, Razor lands a thunderous right hook that stops Petey in his tracks. The kind that echoes through the arena. Petey tumbles to the mat, and Razor picks him up for the Razor's Edge. It's looking like it's over, until Petey manages to wrench free from Razor's grasp. He lands back down, and hits a shocking Canadian Destroyer.

One! Two!

Razor still kicks out, and scurries to the sideline, where he yanks the belt from the timekeeper's grasp. He clobbers Petey over the noggin, and the match is over. Petey Williams takes the win, but of course, the title doesn't change hands on a DQ, so Razor remains the champion. He proceeds to pummel Petey with the shiny weapon until he's left a bloody mess. Ouch.

2. The Undertaker w/Paul Bearer vs. Pat Patterson & Ric Flair
Handicap

Full disclosure again: I'm not really the biggest Taker guy in the world. His matches move too slowly for my taste, with him lumbering around like an animated tree most of the time. However, he's one of the finest spectacles of wrestling: his entrances were electric, his visage menacing. The Undertaker is one of the true legendary characters in wrestling, so he gets the nod.

How best to utilise him, though? Perhaps by matching him up against two of the famous 'cowards' of wrestling? Patterson and Flair, throughout the years, have been hilarious tricksters to watch: routinely taking cheap shots and using underhanded tactics to get the win. To see their brains put together against the dead man himself would surely be an amusing show to behold.

As you can imagine, Flair and Patterson mostly attempt to overwhelm Taker by beating him up as a tandem, but inevitably he's able to strike back. Irish whip to the ropes, boom! Double clothesline. Two armbars at the same time? No problem! He outmuscles them to bonk their heads together in a way that would make Moe Howard proud.

To add some wrestling credibility to the match, there are occasions where either Flair or Patterson are incapacitated for a while, allowing some proper grappling to take place as the other has to duel with Taker one-on-one. We arrive at our conclusion when Undertaker attempts his stroll along the ropes to nail Patterson with what amounts to basically a flying slap in the face, but Flair bangs the ropes at the last moment to knock Taker off-balance. After this most unpleasant de-knackering, Taker is dragged to the middle of the ring, where he's subject to a combination sleeper hold and figure four leg lock. This lasts for ages, since he simply will not tap out. At last, the ref begins to lift Taker's limp arm to see if he's KO'd. On the very last drop, Taker's arm shoots to the air. He clutches his hand into a fist, reaches over, and socks Patterson in the face. He then manages to turn the leg lock over, putting the pressure onto Ric. Flair immediately taps out. Not often Taker won with a submission, I recall.

3. Rikidōzan & Ultimo Dragon vs. La Parka & El Santo
Hurricane Tag
To settle one of the age-old debates, we will see which is really the greatest wrestling nation: Mexico or Japan? Ultimo Dragon and La Parka are obviously fine inclusions; Ultimo was one of the slickest and sharpest guys out there, while La Parka bucked the trend by being more of a brawler.

But the main story here is obvious. Rikidōzan, the man who brought wrestling to Japan, vs. El Santo, the hero of Mexican luchadores. Honestly, I can't find any footage of a Santo match that isn't taken from a movie, but the importance of his influence can't be understated. As for Rikidōzan? Well, he may be more remembered nowadays for being the guy who legitimately bashed the ever-loving shit out of Masahiko Kimura for no reason other than... winning, it seemed. And obviously, that's no bueno (or よくない if you will), but he's more there for his status than anything else. The clash of styles here is monumental, which is why I had originally slated Jushin Liger as the Japanese legend. But it just didn't work, in my mind. Gotta go with the name.

It may seem strange to have these two icons face off under the guise of a hurricane tag match, but my reasons for this are sound, albeit admittedly a little unambitious. For most of the match, El Santo will be fighting Ultimo Dragon while Rikidōzan takes on La Parka. We need to build up the moment, you see, and watching them fight these two excellent additions helps as an appetiser. Also, Rikidōzan might actually just start laying haymakers on Santo. That wouldn't be productive, either.

Anyhow, the moment occurs when Ultimo Dragon and La Parka are launched over the ropes, and there they are. The two legends, staring each other dead in the eye. The crowd goes wild, the fight is finally upon us, and away they go! To be very clear, the two are matching each other blow for blow. Neither is giving an inch, and (more importantly) neither is damaging their mythos.

Eventually, the two collide in the ring, and they're both knocked down flat. While they're lying there, La Parka has finally re-entered. Seeing his opportunity, he covers Rikidōzan for the pin, but he kicks out. Ultimo returns and launches La Parka to the turnbuckle. He then attempts to pin Santo. But no dice. The two monsters are simply indomitable. They launch back to their feet, and take it to their opponents. With La Parka and Ultimo felled, Rikidōzan and Santo each go for the pin fall. After the three count, both get up, celebrating. But who really won the match?

...It's too close to tell, so the match is declared a draw. The boos rain down from the heavens (which is ironic, because this is heaven, isn't it?), until the commissioner... oh shit, who's the commissioner? We'll go with Bischoff here. His decision is for Rikidōzan and El Santo to settle the whole thing in the next PPV, once and for all. The crowd goes wild, the two men shake hands, and the countdown begins for the final fight... (Spoiler alert: Santo wins the rematch. He's like Sebulba - he always wins!)

4. Fabulous Moolah (c) vs. Megumi Kudo for women's championship
Last Woman Standing

Don't think I haven't noticed the heavy Japanese influence of this card: it's a result of broadening my wrestling horizons, and there has been so much exciting stuff happening there over the years. Maybe by the time the next HiH drops (2019 by my math), it'll be loaded with Mexicans. Because like the saying goes, "In Canada, it's a tradition. In Japan, it's a sport. In Mexico, it's a religion. In America, it's a joke."

...I don't actually believe that phrase, I just find it amusing.

So Megumi Kudo. If you were to do a quick Youtube search, you'd see some terrifying stuff, man. Several of her highlights involve barbwire, small explosions and on occasion, her hair ablaze. She is routinely flung about like a rag doll, the underdog competitor pitted against insurmountable odds. But I see more than that. I see solid fundamentals and keen timing in the ring. It's just a shame that she's had to build a career out of bludgeoning herself half to death.

On the other side, we have the Fabulous Moolah. A true throwback to the age of rock 'n' wrestling and beyond, she was a joy to watch. She was bold, expressive and methodical. Sure, her matches often moved at a snail's pace, but it was by design: Moolah would construct the storyline early, the two opponents feeling each other out, with a clear dominator being established. As a result, the payoff felt sweeter. Too often, matches shoot out of the gates at 120%, and nothing builds. We see an exciting spot midway through, and it's par for the course. That's why Moolah was queen for so long: she got it. You build a strong character before the match, and let that tell the tale in the early stages.

In this match, Moolah simply works her craft: the smaller Kudo is harassed in this fight, with constant mat-based submissions being applied. Every time Kudo begins to launch a comeback, Moolah simply rolls out of the ring to return to neutral. Clearly, Kudo has the ability to launch a sudden killing blow at any time, and Moolah can't afford to let that happen. So she relies on trying to knock her opponent out and flee every time she faces adversity. When Kudo hits a surprise offensive flurry that almost takes the match, Moolah again seeks sanctity from the sideline, arguing with the ref about underhanded tactics. Kudo responds with a baseball slide and follows after her, banging her against the guard rails and messing her up (no blood, though! The Fabulous Moolah does not bleed).

Seeing the dangers of lurking on the outside, Moolah returns to the comparative safety of the ring, now obligated to fight Kudo on the up-and-up. Moolah's previous regime of holds and energy conservation gives her the upper hand, and she hits a final backbreaker to put Kudo out for good.

...Except, this is Megumi Kudo, who does not go down to a backbreaker. She gets up and hits the shocked Moolah with the Kudome Valentine. It's a vicious move, and it's something not even the queen can overcome. Kudo is your new women's champion.

5. Terry Funk (c) vs. Steve Blackman vs. Shane McMahon for hardcore championship
Falls count anywhere
So you know how I've been adverse to sticking in needlessly violent matches to maintain wrestling purity? Let's stray from that, just a little, to have a brutal slugfest for shits and giggles. The usual suspects appear: Steve Blackman, martial artist. Shane McMahon, professional bumper. Terry Funk, who once duelled a horse.

In the past, I've always tried to meticulously plan the matches out in my head. But proper hardcore matches require the things that you just couldn't see coming. Thumbtacks. Barbed wire. Light bulbs. All of the items that have made backyard wrestling so notorious (and stupid). Think Foley flying off the cage. Think Benjamin flipping off of the ladder. Think Edge and Jeff Hardy [insert one of many Edge/Jeff spots here].

So yeah. The skirmish commences in the ring, where Shane starts the fun with a chair. Upping the ante, Blackman soon brings out his nunchaku. Terry Funk, well, he's Terry Funk, so he tops it off with a flaming 2x4 adorned with barbed wire. Before long, tragedy strikes as the 2x4 sets the ring aflame. They scramble to the sideline while it's put out, but before long, they simply continue the madness up the ramp, into the back stage, and finally, out of the arena and into the streets of Toronto. The combatants literally dodging cars as they duel, a stretch limousine suddenly squeals to a halt, blocking traffic. And out come the Toronto Blue Jays! They take it to all three competitors - it's unclear with whom their allegiances lie, or more importantly, why they are here and so mean, but who cares! Jose Bautista cracks Funk over the head with a baseball bat. Munenori Kawasaki does a moonsault off the limo. Jose Reyes probably injures himself.

The police finally hit the scene, arresting all of the people involved. What does this mean for the match? Who won? WHO IS THE NEW HARDCORE CHAMPION?

6. Don Muraco w/the Grand Wizard vs. Antonino Rocca
Singles

So we now return to wrestling in a much simpler form. Yes, we have gone from fighting baseball players in the streets of Toronto to a match between Don Muraco and Antonino Rocca. Why the hell not, I say.

Rocca was obviously light years ahead of his time: flipping onto his head and doing handstands when most wrestlers were simply large men who grappled with one another in the middle of the ring. Had I been an impressionable youth back then, Rocca would have no doubt inspired me in ways his contemporaries would not. He was a true athlete and showman; a spectacle that defied imagination.

His opponent, the Magnificent Muraco, was one of the great bullies of wrestling. His demeanour contemptible, his style arrogant, and his cronies effectively a 'who's who' of heel managers. As you may have noticed, this year's edition of Havoc trades off a little bit of technical ability for big personalities, but I don't think this match would suffer, necessarily.

The thing about wrestling in Rocca's day, of course, was kayfabe was at its strongest. Many people legitimately thought that they were watching two men combat one another in the ring. I mean, honestly, who would believe that anyone would take a headscissors in an actual fight without simply flinging the bastard to the ground, but still. It was a magical thing.

This bout plays the familiar schtick of the spritely Rocca locking horns with the physicality of Muraco, but does not see Muraco overwhelming his opponent, running the risk of just becoming Hall/Williams take 2. Rocca has the strength to be able to send Muraco reeling, but every time the behemoth responds, he flattens Rocca with his blows. When Rocca brings out the leg lock, the Grand Wizard clambers onto the apron to distract the ref. Muraco taps like it's going out of style, but alas, it goes unseen. He's able to grab hold of the ropes to claim freedom. Rocca picks him up, sends him into the Irish whip. Muraco counters, throws Rocca to the ropes. Muraco tries a back drop; Rocca leapfrogs over. Another go round, Rocca slides under Muraco's legs. One last time. Rocca does a hand spring, but Muraco's not having it. He anticipates the move and cracks Rocca in the jaw. The pin, the win. Sometimes the bad guys come out on top, eh?

Filler: The Mark Henry Challenge

The World's Strongest Man has an open invitation to find anyone able to match his immense power. The challengers have been many, but none have succeeded. The latest competitor has anonymously arranged for an arm wrestling contest. Henry stands there, table in the ring with a rather dapper looking red cloth covering it. He cuts a promo, because suspense, when there's a bang! The pyros launch, and he arrives...

The Shockmaster.

Legend of legends. Star of stars. MASTER OF SHOCK. He enters the ring (tripping on the ropes as he does. Luckily, he collects his helmet before his true identity is compromised), and grabs hold of the mic. He has something important to say!! He's coming for Mark Henry... And if he's able to outmuscle him... Henry must become his... CHAUFFEUR!!

Egads! The competitors take their seats. Henry appears to hold the upper hand (literally), until suddenly, he stops!! He slumps over in his chair, and the Shockmaster claims the victory. He is the strongest man!! But how could this be...? The true nature is revealed when Mini-Dust emerges from under the table, taser in hand. What a dastardly twist! I look forward to seeing Mark Henry donning the little hat.

7. Shawn Michaels vs. AR Fox
Ladder

So I know what you're thinking here. Surely my inclusion of AR Fox is based solely on his frantic skirmish against Kitsune, a veritable dick showing contest featuring two spectacles of athleticism? Why yes, yes it is! But Tony, I hear you mutter nervously, isn't the issue there that the constant array of flips and bounces make each individual moment less spectacular? Ehhh, maybe. I'd argue that if you watch any lucha libre match, it definitely doesn't grow old. Nor did I become disengaged during the Fox/Kitsune match, but if that's how you must feel (who in the hell are you, anyway?), I present his opponent; master of in-ring buildup and storytelling, one Shawn Michaels.

HBK was yet another guy I didn't particularly appreciate at the time, but I can see now that when he gelled, it was poetry. Could a relative unknown like Fox be able to formulate the drama and intrigue without relying simply on eye-popping agility? I certainly think so. Besides, call me an idiot mark, but high spots are freaking fantastic. So let's give them a goddamn ladder and let them have at it.

I haven't given this match as much thought as I have for prior ones, mostly due to a lack of material to base AR Fox on. He's definitely got a wide arsenal of moves at his disposal, and no doubt he would be eager to pull as many of them out as he could on so grand a stage. How Michaels responds, I guess, depends on how old he is here. Is he one half of the Rockers? Is he DX? Is he a greasy old man? I don't know, to be honest, but I'm leaning towards one of the later versions. Ultra-athletic young HBK vs. ultra-athletic Fox could just turn this dull. So it'll probably be a more grounded, tactical version.

The major spot sees Michaels down for the count, Fox standing over him. A simple pin here should just about do it, however, Fox wants more... he wants it all! He scales the ladder, reaches the top and whoosh! He flips off like a muscular corkscrew. Alas, Michaels rolls aside, and Fox gets a face full of ouch. Michaels rises, wrestling recovery is convenient like that, and goes for the pin. Two count. Well, it wouldn't have been very exciting to end that way, now would it? Michaels goes to work removing the padding from the turnbuckle (why doesn't he just use the ladder? Eh, it's easier this way), when - gadzooks! Fox springs to his feet, grinning like a madman. He slams Michaels' head into the newly exposed corner, leaving HBK slumped against it like a narcoleptic, and then grabs the ladder. He charges, Michaels socks him right in the jaw with some Sweet Chin Music. Pinfall.

8. 'Superfly' Jimmy Snuka vs. Dusty Rhodes
Singles
Let's talk about energy for a moment here.

Energy is something in wrestling that can either put you over the top, or grind people's gears something shocking. Forced energy is something you often see in nervous younger wrestlers. The kind of guys who needlessly gesture to rile up the crowd, frequently seeking validation and trying to win hearts with their 'up tempo style'. Honestly, I'd probably do it if I were in the ring - the concept of people sitting on their hands is terrifying, let's do whatever we can to prevent that.

Genuine energy is infectious. It comes from a persona, an aura. It comes along every now and then, and it makes good wrestlers great, and great wrestlers legendary. Hogan had it. The Rock had it. John Cena has it. They don't have to push the issue at all, their electricity speaks for itself.

It's appropriate, then, that I should book two guys who had energy, albeit in completely different forms. Snuka, a chiseled specimen, was loaded with intensity. A fiery, ballistic competitor, he embodied the spirit of a warrior, and remains one of the most beloved fliers of all time. As for the American Dream? He was magnetic in a form that was rare. The fans loved him, his peers loved him, he was eminently enjoyable, and his gargantuan girth belied his high motor and sound skills in the ring.

Snuka keeps taking it to Dusty, but Rhodes keeps on dancing (sometimes literally), absorbing the punishment and taking his opportunity to fight back when he can. He grounds Snuka by targeting his legs, taking the pace down a notch and evening the odds in his favour. Despite all this, when he nabs a battered Snuka in a headlock, the wild Fijian's eyes pop open like he's just been reactivated. He hammers in the traditional elbows to the gut, launches off of the ropes and hits Dusty with a flying chop. He stumbles to his feet, fights his way to the top turnbuckle and hits Dusty with the splash.

Filler: Interview with David Arquette

The main event is soon to be underway... A battle of champions... So who better for Mean Gene to interview than former world champion, DAVID ARQUETTE? He reflects fondly on his brief run as heavyweight champ. He offers some insight on his past with WCW, and the road that led him to the pinnacle. He feels, honestly that - Okerlund snatches the mic back, stating that there has been a shocking occurrence! A disruption at the Toronto police station! The camera cuts suddenly to nearby Dundas Street, where Terry Funk, Steve Blackman and Shane McMahon have resumed their battle!! GOOD GRACIOUS!! Desks are shattered, papers thrown about the air, and Funk is thrown through a door. Officers attempt to separate Blackman and Shane, grabbing them tightly to restrain them. Without warning, Funk re-emerges, adorned entirely in riot gear! He charges through the masses, bodies strewn everywhere. An officer at last manages to tase him, while another tackles Shane to the floor, pinning him down as he handcuffs him. ...The bell rings! What bell? The portable bell that the referee has brought with him, obviously! Because this random police officer has successfully won by pinfall, and become the NEW HARDCORE CHAMPION!!

Cut back to David Arquette and Gene Okerlund, who appear gobsmacked. At last, Arquette declares 'That is the stupidest fucking thing I have ever seen.' ...And now to the main event.

9. Jushin 'Thunder' Liger & Owen Hart (c) vs. Ricky Steamboat & Dean Malenko for the tag team championship
Tag

Is anyone still reading this now? Can you tell how much I've mailed this event in, sacrificing all credibility for pure insanity and gimmicks? If you're on the threshold, perhaps I can lure you back with this: a match that should be simply beautiful.

No frills here, no gimmicks. I originally had this slated as a cage match, but nah, not even that (primarily because there's no room on the apron for gentlemen to stand). Let's just finish with a clean, slick rumble featuring four hyper-talented wrestlers from varying generations.

Part of me wants to dub Liger and Owen as the 'Hart Foundation X' - a pair of heels who frequently overcome insurmountable odds to claim victory, but I'm opting against it in favour of jettisoning faces and heels for this match. Sure, the duo of Steamboat and Malenko are the 'good guys', but the frenetic, lightning-like abilities of their opponents need not be limited. This takes the more Japanese/Mexican route of 'sure there are heroes and villains, but I'll cheer them all because they are awesome'.

Jushin Liger is someone I missed out on in my youth, bouncing from place to place and spreading his legend worldwide. And what a legend it is: for decades, this man has been assembling matches with impeccable timing, methodical storytelling and - oh yeah - high flying capabilities that can make your head spin. Once I came across him, I was hooked. If you were to do a quick YouTube search through his matches, you'd find that his opponents are a veritable 'who's who' of my favourite wrestlers. Liger basically is the dream match guy. You pit him against the best, and it's one triumph after another.

One of the particular highlights amongst those is one against Mr. Owen Hart. His life cut tragically short, Owen unfortunately doesn't get the credit he truly deserves. Overshadowed in the grand scheme of things by his brother Bret, Owen should be remembered as one of the best wrestlers of all time. Seriously, just do your homework, you'll wonder why Owen never got the push he deserved. The man was clearly one of the most talented wrestlers of his generation, and if he'd gotten the proper angle, he'd go down as one of the all-time greatest.

Their opposition; Steamboat and Malenko, need little introduction. Steamboat was one of the most exciting babyfaces of the 80s: energetic, likeable, and immensely talented. It's no coincidence that a man with a martial arts background struck effectively. His rivalry with Randy Savage showcased exactly what wrestling was capable of: poetry in the ring between two athletes. Do you get an idea of why I'm a little anti-super heavyweight? I'm not here to see behemoths clobber one another. I want to see an event.

And Dean Malenko, the man of 1,000 holds, or as I call him (though it sounds much less threatening) 'Butter Man'. He was smooth, yo. Say the word 'fundamentals' to a wrestling pundit, Malenko's name would come up before long. Everything he executed was picture perfect, and some of his WCW matches in particular ('97 Starrcade vs. Guerrero, August 19th '96 Nitro vs. Regal) should be necessary study for aspiring students of the wrestling game. Also, wow WCW commentary was brutal sometimes. Their obligation to forward promote to Goldberg/Sting/nWo really takes you out of the current bout.

As much as I'd like to 'formulate' a match here, as I've done so far, it does a disservice to what these guys could come up with, with so many potential combinations and variables. Sure, it might make more sense to split things up into two different singles matches, but I just happen to really like the Hart/Liger pair as a concept. Go ahead, write your own match! It'll be amazing, I assure you.

Iffin you're lacking in creativity, my finish has Malenko about to lock Owen into a full nelson. Owen
frantically scrambles to the corner and flips off of the turnbuckle, landing behind Malenko and hitting him with a German suplex. Steamboat tries to intervene, but Liger socks him with an enzuigiri - allowing Owen to lock in, what else? The sharpshooter! Though Malenko is the master of submissions and has locked in more sharpshooters than we ever will, he can't resist. He taps, Owen and Liger retain the belts.

And that brings us to the end of a second curious edition of Havoc in Heaven. Stay tuned sometime in the (not) near future to see who appears next!! (Hint: it may include the enigmatic SWA Kid. I hear he's a talented young man!)