Text By Neil Cathan

What if...Hulk Hogan didn't turn heel at Bash At The Beach '96?

Part IV

Putting the identity of their third man on the line against The Four Horsemen's continued existence as a group at Halloween Havoc, The Outsiders lost, and are contractually obliged to reveal the third man, that mystery which has eluded WCW. Other events involving The Four Horsemen at Halloween Havoc saw Chris Benoit be removed from the group, and attack Dean Malenko in revenge, and the return of Sting during Flair and Arn's match with The Outsiders, laying all four men out.

October 28^th, 1996: WCW Monday Nitro

Epilogues and Didacts

Chris Benoit bumps roughly into Dean Malenko in the corridor. Malenko is bruised, and limping slightly, but nonetheless grabs Benoit by the arm as he passes, turning Benoit around to face him. Benoit sneers at Malenko, and growls a threat of another beating, which only makes Malenko pull Benoit closer by the arm, and coolly tell his former friend that "You don't have the jump on me this time. Go ahead and try it." Benoit removes the hand from his arm, and pushes himself nose to nose with Malenko, who laughs coldly. Benoit asks what's funny, and Malenko obliges him.

"Looks like I got the jump on you this time."

As he says this, the thick arm of Arn Anderson turns Benoit around, and plants a punch firmly on his cheek, downing the former Horseman. Not far behind him, Flair walks onto the scene.

"You really think you could pull a stunt like that on us? After you rode with us, you should have had some idea what would happen."

Benoit picks himself up with considerable help from the wall, only for a punch from Malenko to slump him tiredly back down it.

"You're gonna stay there for a while, pal."

The camera draws away as the Horsemen swarm on their former ally, stamping with ferocious cruelty at his prone form.

Later on in the night, and another scene is unfolding backstage, between Randy Savage and the newly returned Sting. Savage is yelling angrily at Sting.

"What the hell was that last night, Sting? After I step forwards, defending your honour, you go and jump Flair, in the middle of his fighting those scumbags? You made me look like a fool, and yourself look like a traitor! Whose side are you even on?"

"First off, I never asked you to defend my honour, and the day I need your defence of it is a sad one. Secondly, I did what I did to get revenge, and I did what I did because this whole thing makes me sick deep down inside. What they did to me proves it there's no-one here you can trust any more, because there's no-one here who can trust you any more. So as for sides, I'm on my own side, not Flair's side, not your side, not even this company's side. At least The Outsiders will stab me in the front, not the back. Which is more than I can say for anyone here. I'm out for myself, and no-one else from here on. I suggest you do the same."

Sting turns his back on his former friend, and stalks angrily from the room. Savage buries his head remorsefully in his hand.

"Sting too? Damn it, there's no-one left any more."

It's near enough the end of the show, and after almost two hours of nervous anticipation, The Outsiders make their way to ringside, taking absurdly defeated looking stances as they overact slouching dejectedly to the ring. Once in the ring, they start to laugh and joke with each other again, clearly finding their artificial manner hilarious.

Hall, grin on his face, raises the microphone to his mouth, and half-laughs "Alright, you got us, deal's a deal. You got the name of our third man."

He pauses for dramatic effect.

 "It was Hulk Hogan all along."

The crowd make a sound of shock, while the announcers sound their surprise and fury at the identity of the traitor in their midst. Lex Luger's music plays, and he strides out onto the ramp, microphone in hand.

"I knew it! How'd you get to him, huh?" Nash grins, leaning nonchalantly against the ropes

"Cool down, Lex."

He turns to Hall, asking "You sure? Could have sworn it was Lex there."

Luger fumes at the top of the ramp, knowing full well that to enter the ring with these two would only serve to earn him a beating. Hall slaps his head as though realising his own stupidity.

"Of course! Yeah, it was Lex Luger!"

Nash cuts back in, laughter in his voice.

"No, it was Sting!"

"Konnan all along. Pay off was nothing but a story he fed you."

"How about Savage?"

"No, definitely Arn. After all, he stirred the pot so well."

"True. Yeah, got to give Arn due credit."

The audience watch in confused silence, as at the announce desk, Bischoff rails about how he wishes they'd stop joking around, they have to give the name, they signed the contracts on the match, they have to. Nash grins from ear to ear.

"Don't you get it? There never was a third man. And by having no third man, we had an army. You tore each other to pieces trying to find the third man. All the while ignoring little old us. And what did it get you? None of you can trust each other anymore, you've done too much to each other in the name of justice. Hulk Hogan, the all American hero knows how useless his idealism is. The Four Horsemen are broken as a group, my boy Scott here's got your greatest prize, we could do whatever we wanted while you destroyed yourselves, and you're all too broken as a unit to stop us now." Scott stops posing with his prize for a moment, and offers a sincere thank you to Arn Anderson

"for stirring it all up so well. Never dreamed it could work this well. We couldn't have done it without you, old man!"

After The Outsiders' speech, Arn Anderson is standing alone in a lonely dark corridor, dressed in a lonely dark suit and rubbing his lonely dark eyes. Every inch of him is tired. He slowly draws a cigarette from a pack inside his jacket to his mouth, and flicks a zippo open. His coarse thumb grinds against the flint, drawing a flame into life. He leans into it until the end of the cigarette is ignited, and closes the lid, the light illuminating his face gone as though it never had been there. He takes a deep drag, feeling the tightness of the smoke in his lungs, and savouring tobacco's harsh kiss before transferring the cigarette to his right hand. He turns towards the door at the end, smoke trailing sadly behind him. Ric Flair is standing by the door, a look of concern for his old friend on his face. He stops Arn as he approaches the door.

"Where are you going?"

Arn pauses for half a minute, and keeps his head hung, unable to look Flair in the eye.

"They're right, the pair of them. I loved this company. I loved this business. But it's turned into something I don't even recognise any more, and I helped make it that way. I'm getting out. I don't know when I'll be back. I don't even know if I'll be back at all. I just know that this isn't the place for men like me any more. Maybe it never was."

With these words, he pushes through the door and steps outside into the night air's harsh darkness.

The End