(Can it be? Can it be that this three-man team has returned to action? Screw the intro! I gotta see this!)

(The scene begins in a jam-packed GWA arena in St. Louis, Missouri. 40,000 of the GWA faithful are hanging from the rafters, anxiously awaiting the appearance of their favorite GWA superstars. Suddenly, the arena lights dim slightly, and the crowd doesn't seem to know what to think. An explosion of pyro occurs in the entryway, and the Gladiator-Tron flickers ro life, revealing two words: HEAVY ARTILLERY. The crowd erupts just as "Princes of the Universe" by Queen blasts in over the PA. The curtains part, and out step Doomsday, Doom, and Jim "The Icon" Daher, collectively known as Heavy Artillery. The three men stand there, looking out at the wildly cheering crowd, then head down to the ring, slapping hands with the fans on the way. The Icon climbs up the ring steps and stands on the second turnbuckle of the nearest corner, looking out at the crowd. Doom and Doomsday climb up the ring apron and step over the top rope as they head to the center of the ring. Doom spins and raises a fist into the air just as Doomsday makes a cutting motion across his throat, bringing forth a wall of pyro in the ring behind them and towers of flames from three of the four turnbuckles. (Were you expecting fire to come from the turnbuckle The Icon is standing at? You sadist...) As the lights come back on, The Icon produces a mic from his pants pocket. He raises it to his face and begins to speak.)

Jim "The Icon" Daher: Wrestling fans at home, put down that remote, and wrestling fans here in Big Mac Land, St. Louis, Missouri, wake up from your Samoan Mafia-induced R.E.M. sleep, because the man, the myth, the legend, your personal god, and the planetary MESSIAH has finally arrived!

(He jerks the mic away from his face and looks around just as the crowd erupts into cheers! The Icon drops down to the apron and steps in, joining his two stablemates in the center of the ring. After a raised eyebrow and a smirk, he continues.)

The Icon: Ya know, while we've been inactive, we couldn't help but notice that a hell of a lot of big names have gone missin'. We talked it over, an' we decided: The GWA needs a little glue to hold it together, an' yer lookin' at the biggest bottle of it you'll find anywhere! What's this mean? Simply this: Heavy Artillery is back, and we're takin' over, BABY! Now, I know that if I'm to get back on track, I need a match, soooo...howzabout a lil' open challenge? Anyone out there feel like gettin' bested by the pinnacle of athleticism, the paragon of charisma, the summit of intelligence, and the epitome of greatness? Step up to the plate, boys. All you're gonna look like when I finish with ya is the pinnacle of pinheadedness and the epitome of mediocrity. I'll see y'all in the ring, so thank you, and have a nice FRICKIN' day!

(As the crowd erupts into cheers, The Icon hands the mic to Doom, who takes it and begins to speak.)

Doom: Ya know, when I first showed up here, I got off on the wrong track. I'm a hardcore wrestler. Period, end of story. From now on, I want every match I participate in to be Doom's Rules, or in other words, no rules at all. Now, I also need a match, so I'm puttin' out an open challenge. I challenge anybody who feels hardcore to take me on in a Doom's Rules Match. Bring whatever ya want, use whatever ya want, get help from whoever ya want, it ain't gonna matter, 'cause when it's all said an' done, yer gonna feel the Nuclear Winter, an' yer gonna realize what I mean when I say...if it ain't hardcore, IT AIN'T COOL!

(The crowd erupts once again! Doom hands the mic to Doomsday, who takes it and begins to speak in that familiar harsh, rumbling growl.)

Doomsday: Ah...the Gladiator Wrestling Association. Before I begin, I would like a moment of silence to recognize the passing of Skylar Thomas.

(Doomsday bows his head, and his partners follow suit. All is quiet. After about 30 seconds, Doomsday raises his head and continues.)

Doomsday: Mr. Thomas - no, Skylar - you will be missed. Now, on to business. As far as I can tell, we are indeed missing several key players. I feel that this is the perfect time to...re-emerge. I have been away from the ring for far too long. I came to this company to fight, and by God, that is exactly what I shall do. As of now, my primary goal...is the Gladiator Championship. From this moment forward, any who obstruct the path to my inevitable reign as Gladiator Champion...will be dealt with swiftly...and harshly. But in order to properly ascend that ladder, I must first be given a victim. A...sacrificial lamb, if you will. Therefore, I am also issuing an open challenge. Any man, any time, whatever match your pathetic little mind can conceive. I will be amused to discover who among all you sheeps will try to tackle the hungry lion. The Cataclysm is coming. Doomsday is here. Your world has already changed...and the new era...has already begun. I shall be waiting patiently for someone to volunteer to be the recipient of their own...personal...DOOMSDAY!!!