impractical compared to cutting off a carotid artery. By the early 1990s, he had a flourishing school and a potential associate in Art Davie, an ad man who cooked up a fight tape mail-order business and ultimately partnered with Gracie to bring anything-goes bouts to U.S. audiences. After being laughed out of HBO's offices, the two solicited their idea of a fighting tournament to Semaphore Entertainment Group, a pay-per-view content provider that trafficked in rock concerts. Davie raised $250,000 through investors, and SEG, though they had only a dim idea of what the two were up to, offered to distribute. No one had any real sense of what was to follow: missing teeth, gushing blood and newspaper editorials about the decline of Western civilization.

What Gracie did know forcertain is that he didn't want his event in a boxing ring. He had seen the fights in Brazil and knew the ropes wouldn't contain fighters grappling for position. That was fine with SEG producer Michael Pillot. Boxing was boxing. This was something new and different, and it required a change of scenery.

"From the moment it appeared on television, it couldn't look like what we were preconditioned to assume was just another fight," Pillot said. "Boxing was in its heyday. We needed the viewer to look at this in a completely different way."

Prior to SEG's involvement, Davie had consulted with Gracie student John Milius, who had agreed to lend his name -- made famous from directing films like "Conan the Barbarian" and "Red Dawn" -- to the project.