[As the shot comes into view, we can see a dingy and dark independent league ring surrounded by about 100 die hard wrestling fans. You have heard about the legend that’s BACW where men defy gravity, everyone from the veterans to the rookies bleed buckets for their company. As the smoke bellows from the rafters creating a tangy odor of a perhaps illegal substance depending on the country you’re in, the already dim lights fades giving way to a single spot which now rests comfortably on the blood stained skull logo. The hard guitar riff of Slash signals the entrance of one of the most talked about promoters in the business. His edge is inflexible, his wrath legendary.
Crowd: [Throwing his beer down on Batee’s head.] You suck Bats!
[Running his hand through his then bleach blonde hair, the owner of BACW takes pleasure in the fact that the beer just dumped on him cost the fan $5.00, continues making his way down to ringside stopping at the battered steel stairs. A deep breath precedes his first step through the ropes and into the ring. Nodding his head with both disgust and approval Mr. Batee closes his eyes, and raises his hands to the ceiling. Soaking in the vile atmosphere created by his most sinister of thoughts, he opens his eyes gazing into what he calls the beginning of an underground revolution. And understanding that this passion is bigger than Mr. Batee himself, he simply smiles.
Crowd: Bad ASS Wrestling! Bad ASS Wrestling! Bad ASS Wrestling!
[Tapping the microphone twice, the father of extreme bellows like someone trapped in the bowels of hell itself.]
Mr. Batee: BAAAAACW! Welcome to our home! Welcome to our show! And Welcome to Bad ASS Championship Wrrrestling! I’m the man who promotes Obsidian’s incest, and person who condones Michael Cavenaugh’s filthy vocabulary!
Crowd: Bats! Bats! Bats!
Mr. Batee: Shut up you mindless lab rats! Stop cheering me! I hate you!
Crowd: [Bigger pop!]
Mr. Batee: In the past, I have fought against The Phantom Booker! And I have won! I fought against the NWA! And not only did I win, but I ran them out of freaking business! I fought Hartman! Johnson! Farmer! And whole host of so called big time people and each and every god damn time I rolled out of dodge… I won! When it comes to the gift of gab, it might as well be Christmas because Santa continues to deliver to my house each and every night! And tonight, I stand before you with one of the most action packed shows of all time! Tonight, I hope you all, enjoy the brutality!
[Slamming the microphone into the logo, Mr. Batee exits through the ring and up with isle. Whipping counter clockwise and pulling in tight to a small folding table, we see Host Eric Bytchoff and Co-Host Tony Salami getting ready to kick off the show.]
Eric Bytchoff: Hello everyone, I’m your Host Eric Bytchoff and along side me calling the action is the man who some say is older than Father Guido Sargucci “The King of THREE!” Tony Salami! We are coming to you live from Whogivesashitta Florida where we will see The MegaFreak taking on David Obsidian Vance in a main event that has been brewing for five years! Tell me Tony, who do pick in this one?
Tony: [Snoring with drool coming down out of his mouth] ZZZZZ!
Eric: [Slapping Salami in the back of the head.] Wake up you old bastard! This isn’t naptime!
Tony: [Flexing his decrepit chest into a crab pose proceeds.] THREE!!! [Cough, cough, cough.]
Eric: Have you been drinking?
Tony: Not for the last 5 minutes why?
Eric: [Rolling his eye and shuffling his papers.] Folks, we are going to try and not get caught up in the comedy act that has become Tony’s sad life, and instead, let’s give you a rundown of tonight’s fantastic card.
Tony: [Deer in the headlights.]
Eric: Opening up the show, we will witness possibly the most dynamic team in WeWA…
Tony: BATMAN & ROBIN ARE WRESTLING TONIGHT!
Eric: Not unless the show is running in black and white and Mr. Batee has sprung for the rubber shark.
Tony: [Sigh] Razzle-dits!
Eric: [Rubbing his temples.] There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home…
Tony: Dorothy is fighting?!
Eric: [Slamming his fist on the desk.] Would you please shut the hell up! God damn it Tony! For the love of god, can I just get through the rundown?
Tony: [Concerned look.] Are you having problems in the bedroom?
Eric: That’s it! Shut up Salami or I will kill you and happily go to jail for it.
Tony: [Shrugs.] Ok Mr. Manpants!
Eric: As I was saying… [Deep breath] Opening up the show will be one of the most dynamic tag team off all time battling one of the most joked about tag team of all time. Yes folks, in just a few moments we are going to witness the Detroit Gutta Punks battle P.A.I.N.!
Tony: What does P.A.I.N. stand for?
Eric: Product of an intense nightmare. [Annoyed] Anything else you would like to know?
Tony: Do you like Gladiator movies?
Eric: Spartacus and Gladiator were pretty good… Why?
Tony: What about Turkish prisons?
Eric: Midnight Express is a classic… Why?
Tony: [Snickers] No reason. Please proceed.
Eric: After that we will see who will win the battle of the sidekicks as Stevey Sinsiter’s Grappler does hand to hand combat with Eddy Outlaw’s Dakota Dave!
Tony: Was The Grappler ever a world champion.
Eric: Only in the fantasy world.
Tony: I like Dakota Dave in this one.
Eric: Why?
Tony: Have you tasted his barbecue sauce?
Eric: [Shaking his head.] In our co-main event of the evening, it’s going to be David Obsidian Vance one on one with The MegaFreak!
Tony: When you ask people in BACW what match they want to see this is at the top of everyone’s list. The MegaFreak is a mega freak while David Vance is a sister humping animal. Tonight the immovable force meets the irresistible object.
Eric: God you’re fucking stupid.
Tony: [Shrugs.] What did I say?
Eric: And in the main event of the evening, Roxanne Logan will go head to head with CC in an anything goes, falls count anywhere match!
Tony: I knew I should have worn pants with more room.
Eric: That thing still works?
Tony: It’s like a Timex. Takes a licking, but keeps on sticking.
Eric: Unfortunately. Well folks, that’s our card from start to finish! Our ring announcer Michael Stuffher is ready for the opening introductions so lets go to the ring.
[The Metallic K.O. version "Search and Destroy" by Iggy Pop and the Stooge hits, and the boos of the recorded audience blend with those filling the arena as Slash and Smash make their appearance at the top of the ramp. Fifths of J.D. in hand, they make their way to the ring, pounding whiskey and mocking the fans.]
Crowd: Where are your belts! Where are your belts! Where are your belts!
[Now inside the ring, they spit whiskey at each other as Michael Stuffher handles the introductions.]
Stuffher: Tonight's match-up will be contested under a thirty minute time limit, with the prestigious "Big Guy, Little Guy" Tag Team Championships of the World on the line. Introducing first, hailing from the Motor City... Slash and Smash ... they are ... The Detroit Gutta Punks!
Crowd: Kraaaven! Kraaaven! Kraaaven!
Tony: Why are they saying his name?
Eric: I think the fans are trying to tell the Gutta Punks that Detroit is Jack Kraven town.
Tony: Seems a bit pointless considering Jack’s not even in the building.
Eric: Will you let me run this dream as I see fit?
Tony: It’s the penis envy isn’t it!
Eric: [Confused] What?
Tony: I knew it!
[As Stuffher's intro draws more hatred from the arena, it's cut short by the appearance of two more men at the top of the ramp. One's Fat Albert fat, happy, and gobbling a corn dog. The other's DeVito short, angry, and impatient.]
Fan: SEGAR!
Tony: The crowd loves these guys!
Stuffher: And their opponents, hailing from parts unknown, please welcome... Mace and Trespass... the Products of An Intense Nightmare... P.A.I.N.!
[Mace discards the remains of the corn dog, and charges to the ring, where he's greeted by a heavy dosage of Doc Martens to the face and the wide expanses of his flab-tastic body.]
Tony: Referee Homer Elway is paying no attention to the double-team, and calling for the bell, here we GO!
Eric: The attack is hard and heavy, and right now, Trespass needs to get his ass to the ring, because the Gutta Punks are taking Mace apart like a three year old with Lego!
[Scraping the Yogi Bear of professional wrestling from the mat, the Gutta Punks go for the double-team suplex.]
Tony: That’s not going to work.
Eric: They don't get it!
[Mace shoves 'em to the mat, and then heads into the rope, looking to connect with a double-clothesline. Instead, Slash takes him down with a drop toe hold, and Smash quickly follows with a knee drop.]
Eric: If P.A.I.N. doesn't get things squared away, this match will be over before it begins.
Tony: Someone’s going to Sizzler after this one!
[Elway, finally piecing things together, and enforcing his authority, orders Slash out of the ring. See this, Smash pulls the reeling Tre from the mat, and connects with a forearm strike.]
Eric: No dice! It’s not going to work!
[A second strike gets Mace a-stumblin'. A third gets countered into a very sloppy DDT, and both men are down. Elway begins to count, and listen the crowd react to the cover.]
Elway: One... two...
Eric: Goddamnit!
Tony: [Elway, in unison] THREEE!!!
Eric: Can’t I even get peace in the fantasy world! Kick out and this one’s going to continue!
Tony: [Staring at his three fingers]
Eric: Mace is stumbling towards P.A.I.N’s corner, and you won’t believe this but Tre's talking on a cell phone, and...
Tony: What is that thing?
Eric: A cell phone Tony.
Tony: [Jaw dropping] Wow!
[... Mace's near-escape gets cut off by Slash, as Smash feigning from an injury easily distracts Homer Elway from the action. A pinpoint dropkick to the knee, and Mace flops into the corner like a Grimmace on crack. Slash rolls out of the ring, and Smash gets back to work, slamming Mace's head into the turnbuckle.]
Tre: I told you bitch, I ain’t that Babies daddy! [Finally look up from his cell phone.] Oh shit, I’ll call you right back!
Trespass: [Snapping the cell phone shut.] What the hell? [Entering the ring.] You fat piece a' crap!
[Before he can get both legs through the ropes, Smash gives Tre a rake to the eyes, causing him to fall off the apron and down onto the concrete floor.]
Eric: I guess he can hear me now.
Tony: So tell me, if it’s a phone, where’s the string, and why do they call it a cell phone? Is it to call prison?
[Pulling Mace out of the corner, Slash sends Mace back into Punk territory with an Irish whip, terminating into the chair that Slash has thoughtfully wedged between the ropes. Smash tags in Slash, and the two connect on a well-honed reverse double DDT.]
Eric: He might remind you of Chris Griffin, but right now, Mace is taking on the Gutta Punks in what's beginning to resemble a handicap match!
Tony: That's something not a lot of guys can say.
[Removing the dented chair, Slash flattens it against the inviting target provided by Mace's now bloody forehead. Once is good, twice is better, and...]
Tony: THREE!
Eric: ...is the loneliest number for Mace, who collapses face first into the ring in Ric Flair like fashion.
[Having recovered from the eye gauge, Tre puts his cell in his pcket and resumes berating his partner.]
Trespass: I told you no Almond Joys, no Mounds, no Kitkats, but you wouldn’t listen would you… you fat fuck, you just wouldn't listen!
Eric: Even a lovable oaf has his limits, and Tre seems to have crossed them yet again.
Tony: Mace forces himself to one knee, absorbs another Slash shot, and regains his footing, before taking Slash to the mat with an unorthodox combination of a spear.]
Tony: Four hundred pounds always hurts, even when it jiggles. Someone call Bill Cosby, this one’s over!
Eric: The referee is looking at a mess and it’s impossible to make a count.
[Slash and Tre untangle themselves and begin the long, slow crawl of setting up the hot tag.]
Tony: I think Mace smells McDonald's!
Eric: Why?
Tony: Because somehow, the fat guy wins.
Eric: No clue what you just said, but Tre looks slightly unsure of what to do with himself. Here comes the fresh half of P.A.I.N.
[Stopping short, a charging Smash unloads with the classic boot to the gut, and Slash follows with the equally old-fashioned swinging neck breaker. Bouncing to his feet, he ducks a clothesline from Slash, then connects with a side Russian leg sweep.]
Eric: Hot damn, technical wrestling in a WeWA production?
Tony: [Whimpering] Don't tell the Troll.
Eric: What?
Tony: [Whimpering] It's put the lotion in the basket, or else it gets the hose again.
Eric: Either way, that neck breaker didn't seem to have much of an impact, 'cause Smash Mosh is back on his feet, and he connects with a low blow that sends Tre stumbling into the ropes.
[Slash is quick to recover, and the Brothers Mosh hit Mr. Breaking and Entering with a double suplex. Slash being the legal man, he makes the cover, and as he does, Smash retreats to the Punk corner.]
Elway: One... two...
Eric: Mace into the ring breaks up the pin fall, but he's quickly chaperoned out by Elway. On the other side, Smash is back in the ring, armed a bottle of Jack, and he just caught Trespass in the face.
Tony: Ouch!
[Elway's finally back in the action, only to catch Smash ducking under the ring ropes. Another pin fall ensues as Smash heads under the ring, looking for further implements of destruction.]
Elway: One... two...
[Again, Mace plays the savior. And again, the thoroughly incompetent referee tries to chaperone Mace out of the ring. This time, it's Tre who takes advantage of Elway's confusion, as he slips on a pair of brass knuckles, and catches Slash in the stomach. With Elway still distracted, Tre goes to town, pounding away on Slash.]
Eric: Earlier it was Mace, and now it's Slash ... everybody takes a
Licking but keeps on ticking!
Tony: [Smiles]
[Satisfied, Tre pulls Slash into a cradle DDT before hooking the leg as Elway's caught herding Mace out of the ring. Meanwhile, Smash has re-emerged, pulling a table with him.]
Tony: Business about to pick up?
Eric: Business about to pick up.
[Elway gets back to his job, and makes a belated attempt at a count.]
Elway: One... two....
[Slash kicks out, and as he does, Smash slides the folding table into the ring. With Slash and Tre stumbling to their feet, the well-oiled machine that is the Detroit Gutta Punks springs into action. Smash gets the table set up with a practiced ease, Slash sends Tre into the ropes, and the result, a rather familiar move, with a rather familiar result. Slash goes for the cover!]
[There's a real poetry to watching Slash and Smash put Trespass through a table, followed by four hundred pounds of Mace connecting with the jumbo jet of splashes. Smash doesn't care, and as the only man to escape the carnage, that's all that really matters. Falling on top of Mace, he makes the cover.]
Elway: One... two...
Tony: THREE!
Stuffher: Your winners... and NEW "Big Guy, Little Guy" Tag Team Champions of the World... Slash and Smash Mosh... The Detroit Gutta Punks!
Crowd: BOO!
Eric: As you might imagine, Slash isn't in much of a condition to care, and having retrieved the second fifth of Jack, neither is Smash. Stumbling up the ramp to the strains of Iggy Pop, the Punks have taken home a fairly meaningless title. But they've done it with style, and something approaching grace, and more to the point ... with whiskey. Back in the ring, P.A.I.N.'s beginning to stir and as Tre emerges from the wreckage of splinters and obesity, he calls for a microphone.
Trespass: That's it, Mace! I've tried, and I've tried, and I've tried... and god damn it, I've tried some more.
Tony: Are they trying to get pregnant?
Eric: Would you shut up!
Trespass: And what do I get? Do I get titles? [Looking around his waist] No. Do I get recognition? [Points the crowd] No. Do I get a free subscription to an adult website of my choice? [Looks down at his crotch] YES! But that's not the point. The point, lard-ass, is that you're a millstone, and... well…
Eric: Mace is back on his feet, apparently having heard nothing of the diatribe.
Tony: Hey, you expect functioning physics in a place run by a digital troll and a suicidal President for Life? I think not!
Mace: Deh, Tre, [Scratching his head] Did we win?
Trespass: [Jumping up and down] No you fat fucking bastard!! We didn't win, you idiot. We never win because you're to use the mediocrity!
Mace: Um, what's mediocrity-
Trespass: Ah, Goddamnit! I've had enough of this, you fat slobbering 'tard! It's over! I'm tired of carrying your lard-assed, no-talent self all over this country and all over this promotion! I'm tired of
never-
Mace: It's Mounds!
Trespass: What?
Mace: I don't like Almond Joys! I like Mounds!
Eric: Look out! Mace just pulled his partner into a flabby pile driver, to the complete approval of the crowd.)
Eric: [Slamming his head on the desk and looking up.] Let’s go to the ring.
Stuffher: Ladies and gentlemen, this next match is to determine who the Sidekick Champion of The World will be. Introducing first, sidekick to the man who is pummeling without pardon, destined for greatness, and the center of stardom, the "talented eruption with an appetite for destruction", the superstar who is leading the sensation known as the Era of Eradication, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, YOUR WeWA Steveyweight Champion of the WORLD.... "The Sultan of Smack", STEVE SINISTERRR! Here is the GRRAPPLERR!
[The crowd goes ballistic as the guitar riffs of Greenday's "Having a Blast" starts up and as the singing begins, the strobe lights flicker and two pyrobombs set off, leaving mist in the entranceway. On the Ovaltron, a blue skull and crossbones is glowing on the screen only to be shattered to a zillion pieces by a lightning bolt. As the pieces form the name "STEVE SINISTER", clips of various interviews and unbelievable atheisms, leading up the ultimate clip of dozens of Sinister Suplexes in a row... as the Sultan of Smack, parts the curtains revealing his perfect physique accented by his blue trunks with silver lightning bolts down the side. He leads his sidekick, The Grappler, who is dressed in his green mask and tights down to ringside.]
Stevey Sinister: [Grabs mic] WeWA, WELCOME TO THE SINISTER SPOT! And your American God, otherwise known as MR PROWRESTLING, and your WeWAAA WORLD STEVEYWEIGHT CHAMPION, is about to show this cowboy humpin, cacti jumpin, jobberistic curtain-jerker the way we do things RED, WHITE, AND COOL! Dividing all the imitators from the eliminators..... the eliminator being the SULTAN OF SMACK, THE DADDY OF WACK, THE ORIGINATOR OF PAIN, who is damned sure licensed to thrill and can chill you...
Crowd: AT WILL!
Steve: SCREW YOUR "AUTHORITY" AND FEEEEEL THE INTENSITY OF… THE GRAPPLER!
Eric: My GOD, do they love Stevey Sinister or what?
Tony: What?
[The lights dim as the Team OUTLAW logo appears on the OVALtron. At the same time, "Better Than You" by Metallica begins to play. The logo pulsates to the beat of the song as the first one out of the curtain is none other than Dakota Dave, wearing a black singlet with black boots, he jumps anxiously. Next out is the lovely CC, wearing her denim daisy dukes, pink halter top, and high heel black boots. With a smile on her face, she blows a kiss to the crowd. Just as the chorus of the song begins to blare out steps Eddy Outlaw With a cocky smile to absorb the crowd's reaction. Eddy leads Team OUTLAW down to the ring. Engaging in an intense stare down with one of his most hated rivals Eddy walks to the side of the ring apron as Dakota Dave slides under the ring ropes and into the ring.]
Eric: The Grappler wasting no time with a double axe handle to the back of Dakota Dave’s neck, and there wasting no time getting this thing started. The referee is ringing the bell and this one is about to get started!
Tony: Here we go!
Eric: That’s my line jackass!
[The Grappler repeatedly kicks Dave in the midsection taking the early advantage using the ropes as leverage. Content with his start, he pulls Dakota up by his short blonde hair, collar and elbow tie up followed by an Irish whip. Dakota coming off the ropes hard is greeted with a Grappler clothesline nearly folding the undersized Dakota in half.]
Eddy: C’mon D! C’mon!
Eric: The Grappler is clearly in the driver’s seat so far, and…OH! DDT by The Grappler, and I think it’s pretty much academic.
[The referee plops onto the mat and slaps the mat 1….2….]
Tony: THREEE!
[Holding up two fingers it seems that Dakota has kicked out. The Grappler upset with the slow count begins to yell at the referee, as Dakota Dave stirs and hits a low blow from behind. Gaining the advantage quickly Dakota Dave hits the Grappler with a side Russian leg sweep.]
Eric: Dakota Dave with the low blow as gained control of this match.
Tony: I need a low blow from CC.
Eric: Lean back old man, just lean back.
Tony: What?
[As The Grappler makes his way to his feet he is greeted with a Dakota Dave bulldog. Quickly getting to his feet Dakota applies the training he’s received from Eddy Outlaw and takes full advantage of his temporary advantage lifting The Grappler to his feet by his mask he wraps his arm around the Grappler waist and performs a very sloppy belly to belly suplex.]
Eric: OH MY! Shades of Eddy Outlaw in that move. These sidekicks are out to prove that they aren’t just sidekicks there two tough.
Tony: COOKIES!
Eric: … little sons of bitches. Dakota is climbing to the top rope, and I don’t think he’s qualified to be up there.
[Stevey Sinister not letting his sidekick take any more of a beating quickly hops up onto the ring apron and throws Dakota into the ring with one effortless nudge. Eddy noticing this runs to his sidekicks aid, Sinister quickly retreats being ridiculed by the referee. Knowing that cheering on his sidekick may serve a better purpose Eddy whispers something into CC”s ear as the match continues.]
Eric: The Grappler is to his feet first. Irish whip into the corner. REVERSED!
[Just as the move is reversed CC is up on the apron and grapping the referree’s head she jams his face into her cleavage. As the Grappler hits the ropes he is tripped up by Eddy. Who smiles a smug smile at his dirty deed.]
Crowd: BOOOOOOO!
[The Outlaw’s deed did not go unnoticed to one Stevey Sinister who makes his way over to Eddy whose smile has turned to an “Oh SHIT!” look.]
Eric: Sinister and Outlaw are exchanging punches on the outside, the referee has got his face in CC’s chest.
Tony: I wish I were a ref.
Eric: And Dakota Dave and The Grappler are down in the middle of the ring! The referee as been released from the wonderful world of CC’s tits, and Sinister has just rolled Outlaw into the ring!
[Recognizing that this match is getting a little uncontrollable the referee confronts Stevey Sinister to be greeted by a…]
Eric: SINISTER SUPLEX! The ref is down!
[Outlaw comes from behind and hits a release German suplex on the Sultan of Smack. Taunting the crowd that he is Simply The Best as CC giggles him on, Eddy turns and picks Sinister up by his blond hair. Irish whip into the ropes, Stevey ducks the clothes line, Eddy turns around and gets a boot to the midsection.]
Eric: SINISTER SUPLEX on OUTLAW!
[As Outlaw is now out, the sidekicks are stirring. Dakota is the first up, and not realizing that Sinister is in the ring picks The Grappler up and signals for the SUNSET (full nelson slam).]
Eric: SUNSET! But Dakota Dave doesn’t realize that Stevey Sinister is right behind him. Stevey turns Dakota Dave around. SINISTER SUPLEX!
Tony: THREEE!
Eric: THREE SINISTER SUPLEXES! And the crowd is going abso-fucking-lutely nuts!!! Stevey places The Grappler onto Dakota’s limp body. The referee is stirring.
[Slowly the referee slaps his hand on the mat. …1 …2]
Tony: THREEE!
Eric: The Grappler has won this match, and look at Stevey Sinister revel in this crowds cheers.
Stuffher: Ladies and gentlemen, you’re winner and NEW sidekick champion of the world….THE GRRRAAAPLER!
[Stevey grabs The Grappler and throws him over his shoulder. He walks up the rampway after grabbing Stuffher’s mic. He reaches the top and turns around as the beat up Team OUTLAW is collected in the middle of the ring.]
Stevey: SCREWWW YOUR AUTHORITY AND FEEEL THE INTENSITY!
[With that Stevey drops the mic and exits the curtain, leaving the very upset Team OUTLAW in the ring.]
Eric: And folks, that’s why Stevey Sinister is labeled as one of the most electrifying wrestlers in sports entertainment today!
Tony: If ya smell la la la la la la…
Eric: Unfortunately I can smell it… Folks, our next match is guaranteed to blow the very roof off this building, Tony. We’ve got two of the most dominant forces to ever step into a wrestling ring in any federation facing off with no rules, nothing held back, and nothing but pride on the line.
Tony: When you’ve got two monsters like this, pride is all you need. That and the chance, once and for all, to prove which monster is the more memorable!
Eric: I hate alliteration, Tony.
Tony: Hate is an evil thing, Eric.
[With Tony and Eric bickering, the camera swings to the ring, where Michael Stuffher is waiting. Stuffher is approached by a ring technician, nods slightly, and raises the microphone]
Stuffher- Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a slight change to the match listed in your program.
Tony: I knew it! This is low, even for Batee…
Stuffher: Rather than Ravi Jones, your referee for the next match will be Michael “Snake Eyes” Cavenaugh.
Tony: He’s done it again! A match that couldn’t get any better did! And you doubted him, Bytchoff! You thought the match would be scrapped!
[Eric fixes Tony with a glare that would freeze lava as the lights fade. Slowly, the melodic opening notes of “Dream On” by Aerosmith hit the speakers. A pair of spotlights, one ice blue and one emerald green, illuminate the entranceway, where the curtain remains closed. The first verse runs through without any interruption.]
Every time
That I look in the mirror
All these lines on my face
Getting clearer
The past is gone
It went by
Like dusk to dawn
Isn't that the way?
Everybody's got their dues in life to pay
[At the end of the first verse, both spotlights are replaced by crimson strobe lights. The curtain parts as the next line flows.]
Yeah, I know
Nobody knows
Where it comes and
Where it goes
I know
It's everybody's sin
You got to lose to know
How to win
[As the last two lines play, a single blood red spotlight illuminates the entrance way as the crimson strobe lights are replaced by the standard white strobe lights. Standing in front of the curtain, bathed in the eerie red glow, is the World eWrestling Alliance slash eWrestling dot Org World Heavyweight Champion: Michael “Snake Eyes” Cavenaugh. Snake Eyes does not have the belt with him tonight; in fact, he is dressed in a manner one would not expect. A pair of black slacks, a pair of black sneakers with no identifying marks, and a black and white striped referee’s shirt. Cavenaugh is freshly trimmed, both hair and Van Dyke, and he strolls quickly down the ramp as the song continues.]
Half my life's
In books' written pages
Lived and learned from fools
And from sages
You know it's true
All the things come back to you
[Cavenaugh hops into the ring, raising his hands to the crowd, which for once roars appreciatively.]
Sing with me
Sing for the years
Sing for the laughter
And sing for the tears
Sing with me
If it's just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away
[Snake steps through the ropes, kneels in one of the corners, and waits for the combatants to enter the war zone.]
Dream on
Dream on
Dream on
Dream yourself a dream come true
Dream on
Dream on
Dream on
And dream until your dream comes true
Dream on
Dream on
Dream on
Dream on
Dream on
Dream on
Dream on
[As the song ends, Eric and Tony speak.]
Tony: Do you really think this match needed a special referee?
Eric: Well, this is supposed to be a battle for the ages, and there aren’t any rules, so the referee is only there to count pin falls, award submissions, and prevent interference. If you want to prevent interference, I can’t think of a better way than to put “The Living Legend” between them and the match.
Tony: What if he decides to influence the match?
Eric: Good question.
[Stuffher has lifted the microphone again]
Stuffher- Introducing first, we welcome one of the first two men inducted into the original Bad Ass Championship Hall of Fame. He was the very first man to wear the BACW World Heavyweight Championship, and he was the first winner of the Grinder. He participated in the first Burnt to a Crisp match, and he was the first man to wear the Fuck the Feds World Heavyweight Championship. He has not entered a wrestling ring since late nineteen ninety nine, but his name is still spoken with reverence in the inner circles… he stands six feet, six inches tall and tips the scales at an utterly amazing four hundred and ninety five pounds… accompanied by Doctor Edgar Morbis, from the Great Unknown, please…
[The microphone dies suddenly as the lights go completely out. For the first time in nearly five years the crowd goes eerily quiet, the newer fans unsure as to what is happening the long-term fans getting bumps as memories past are flowing throughout the arena. A single spotlight on the entrance way reveals a disturbing green fog filling the area, drifting and wafting under the faint glow. Suddenly, “Muzzle” by the Smashing Pumpkins erupts from the speakers.]
I fear that I'm
Ordinary
Just like everyone
To lie here the sorrows
Adrift among the days
For everything I ever said
And everything I've ever done is gone
And dead
As all things
Must surely have to end
And great lovers
Will one day have to part
I know that I
Am meant for this world
[As the first verse ends, the curtain is ripped in half and it is time to…]
Stuffher- BEHOLD THE MEGAFREAK!
[With Stuffher’s microphone roaring back to unexpected life, the aforementioned “Man Mountain” Megafreak steps through the torn curtain. The Megafreak is as big as he has ever been described, every inch of six feet six, and his nearly five hundred pounds rippling and bouncing. The Megafreak appears to have a very low body fat percentage, low enough that it would not be inaccurate to say there is over four hundred pounds of muscle stomping and striding down the ramp. The Freak
is wearing a ripped and torn pair of canvas pants, plain black boots, and his leather mask, nothing else. The mind behind the mayhem, Doctor Edgar Morbis, is six inches from the Megafreak’s heels, wearing his patented red ringmaster suit, green tinted Lennon-style glasses, and carrying his black cane. Morbis is directing Freak towards the ring as the song slowly plays on.]
My life has been
Extraordinary
Blessed and cursed at once
Time heals
But I'm forever broken
By and by the way...
Have you ever heard the words
I'm singing in these songs?
It's for the girl
I've loved all along
Can a taste of love
Be so wrong
[The spotlight follows Morbis and the Megafreak, as does the unearthly green mist. Cavenaugh has slid out of the ring, giving Megafreak a wide berth as the Freak climbs the stairs and enters the ring. The fans are loud enough to nearly drown out the lyrics.]
As all things must surely have to end
Will one day have to part
I know that I
Am meant for this world
And in my mind as I was floating
Far above the clouds
Some children laughed
I'd fall for certain
For thinking that I'd last forever
But I knew exactly where I was
[Morbis exits the ring, leaving the Megafreak standing in one corner, head down, awaiting his opponent and his chance to exterminate.]
And I knew
The meaning of it all
And I knew
The distance to the sun
And I knew
The echo that is love
And I knew
The secrets in your spires
And I knew
The emptiness of youth
And I knew
The solitude of heart
And I knew
The murmurs of the soul
And the world
Is drawn into your hands
And the world
Is etched upon your heart
And the world
So hard to understand
Is the world you can't live without
And I knew
The silence of the world
[The song ends as Michael Stuffher enters the ring once again, preparing to introduce the next competitor.]
Tony: My God Eric… I haven’t seen the Megafreak in years. He’s been in self-imposed seclusion with Morbis, and he hasn’t even been heard from since the second Grinder. Do you think there’s any chance he’s as impressive as he was?
Eric: Tony, the Megafreak is the most dominant force to ever enter a wrestling ring. He is the strongest man I’ve ever seen, the most impervious to pain, and he takes his orders directly from Doctor Edgar Morbis, who happens to be one of the most sadistic man ever. If anyone can dominate Obsidian, it’s the Megafreak.
Tony: Are you saying Vance can’t win?
Eric: They don’t call him the Iconoclast for nothing, Tony. Obsidian has destroyed icons before, and he might do it again tonight… but it’s going to be a tough road to hoe.
[Tony and Eric fall silent, waiting for the next competitor to enter. Stuffher waits for the crowd to die down slightly before continuing with his work.]
Stuffher: Finally, it is my distinct pleasure to introduce to you, standing at six feet and five inches, tipping the scales at two hundred and eighty seven pounds, a five-time World Heavyweight champion, the inaugural and only Network Champion of Primetime Central, the 2001 inductee into the Bad ASS Hall of Fame, and of course, your resident foul-mouthed Iconoclast ... please give a warm Stomp Hall welcome to the incomparable “Mile High Monster”... DAVID “OBSIDIAN” VANCE!
[“Paint It, Black” by the Rolling Stones hits the airwaves, the surprisingly mellow and delicate opening chords ringing out true and accurate. The house lights remain on, and there is no sign of the “Pretty Hate Machine” as the first verse runs through.]
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
[The camera begins panning the arena, focusing on several signs, including one that says “Obsidian for President,” one that says “Foul Mouthed Fuck,” and one that says “Obsidian = GREATNESS.” There is still no sign of Vance as the song continues.]
I see a line of cars and they're all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens ev'ry day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts
It's not easy facin' up when your whole world is black
[Suddenly, the former World Heavyweight Champion comes flying out of the back, head down, thick legs pumping fast. The crowd absolutely explodes as they get their first glimpse of the heavily tattooed, heavily scarred, and totally bald “Professional Hypocrite.” Vance has deigned to wear crimson and black tights and boots, although any details are missed by the very speed with which he is flying down the ramp. Obsidian dives into the ring and charges the Megafreak, launching punch after punch against the massive man’s stomach.]
No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue
I could not foresee this thing happening to you
If I look hard enough into the settin' sun
My love will laugh with me before the mornin' comes
[With his heavy rights and lefts having no affect on the Megafreak, Obsidian sprints to the ropes, bounces off, and charges back at Megafreak, driving himself into the thick torso shoulder first. Obsidian ricochets off, catches himself, and launches himself again. The result is the same.]
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
Hmm, hmm, hmm...
I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
Yeah!
[Obsidian tries a new tactic, swinging his foot towards Megafreaks’ crotch. The Freak has apparently had enough of this, swatting the nearly three hundred pound Obsidian aside as a normal man would swat aside a pesky gnat. Cavenaugh has entered the ring and called for the bell as the music finally ends.]
Eric: Obsidian with an early flurry, but it seems to have had no affect on the Megafreak! I’d nearly forgotten how impressive the ‘Freak could be, but wow, that was a refresher course. I don’t think Obsidian has ever had to face someone who could withstand what the Megafreak could withstand, and I don’t think he’s ever faced anyone who can dish it as well as the Megafreak either…
Tony: … but it’s also entirely possible that the Megafreak has never faced anyone like David “Obsidian” Vance.
Eric: Indeed. Like Joe Pesci in Casino, Vance is just too stupid and determined to stop coming. He doesn’t know any plan of attack other than straight out, balls to the wall seek and destroy. He’s not going to change a damned thing for this match. He’s not going to try anything but his constant assault. He’s not afraid of the Megafreak, and that might be enough to give him an edge.
Tony: Cavenaugh seems satisfied that everyone knows what’s what, and he’s calling for the bell. This match is on!
Eric: Vance and the Megafreak are standing toe to toe in the center of the ring, and the size difference is remarkable. They’re almost eye-to-eye, but the Freak is nearly twice as wide as Obsidian. “The Mile High
Monster” is running his mouth at a thousand miles an hour, spitting anger and venom right at the Megafreak, who’s just staring back. Vance pulls back his right hand and slugs the Freak in the jaw! Again! And again! The Megafreak is not fazed! Vance shakes his head, mutters, and takes another swing, which still has no affect!
Tony: This is almost surreal, Eric. I’ve never seen Obsidian this ineffective against someone.
[Obsidian steps back, bounces off the ropes, and flies at the Megafreak with a leaping lariat, which the Megafreak shrugs off. Obsidian slaps the mat in anger, gets back to his feet, and bounces off the ropes again. Charging the Megafreak, Obsidian leaps again and connects with another high clothesline, right across the face. The Megafreak is staggered, and Obsidian is nodding as he hits the ropes again, charging towards the Megafreak]
Eric: The Megafreak hasn’t made an offensive move this match, but it looks like Obsidian might have found something effective.
Tony: Oh no, Eric! Morbis just screamed for the Megafreak to attack, and attack he did!
Eric: The Freak caught Obsidian around the waist when he went for the third clothesline and charged the turnbuckle, slamming Vance into the corner! The Freak turns, charges another corner, and slams Obsidian again! Again! Again! Obsidian is slamming his forearms together across the Freak’s ears, but it’s to no avail!
Tony: The Megafreak can grip tighter than a virgin Vietnamese girl, be he seems to be weakening under those rocking shots of Obsidian.
Eric: Oh my God! The Megafreak just fell forward, crushing Obsidian against the mat! Slowly rising to his feet, the Freak steps across Obsidian’s chest, driving the wind from the Iconoclast. Morbis is directing the action, and the Megafreak drops a huge leg across the neck of Obsidian. Things don’t look good for the Denver Demon…
Tony: I’d never heard him called that before.
Eric: I think I made it up.
Tony: I don’t like it.
[Rising from the mat again, Megafreak takes hold of Vance by the ears, lifting him to his feet. Tossing the nearly three hundred pound Obsidian into the corner, the Megafreak unloads heavy rights and lefts to David’s face. One connects directly with Vance’s nose, busting it wide open and letting loose a torrent of blood. Another right connects with the arch of an eyebrow, opening another shallow gash. It is almost possible to see the lumps forming as the Megafreak continues to pound on Obsidian’s face.]
Tony: This is getting ugly, Eric.
Eric: Indeed it is, Tony. Obsidian was, to quote the man himself, and ugly motherfucker beforehand. After this, he might not even be presentable enough for his own sister.
Tony: You know they…
Eric: Tony, focus! The Megafreak has changed topics, swinging heavy chops against Obsidian’s chest, each thud leaving bright red places on the Monster’s pale skin. But all is not lost for the Blue Eyed Hate Machine…
Tony: Better…
Eric: … he’s grabbed the Freak by the throat, both hands latched around the thick neck of the unstoppable force! Obi climbs the turnbuckles, both hands throttling the Megafreak, and pushes forward, driving the Megafreak to the ground with a heavily modified choke slam! Now it’s Obsidian with the upper hand, holding the Freak’s throat with one hand while driving his other fist into the mask! Again and again, Obsidian has found strength from somewhere to whale away on the Megafreak!
[The Megafreak takes hold of the arm choking him, lifting Vance up and off of him. Not letting go of the arm, the Freak rises to his feet and lifts Vance off of his feet, running towards the ropes. David is unceremoniously dumped over the top rope to the floor, where he lands, clutching his left arm.]
Eric: That arm was wrenched right out of socket, Tony. This is bad news for Vance.
Tony: Indeed it is, Eric. The Freak has climbed out of the ring and is pacing towards the fallen Obsidian… who’s sliding a chair from under the ring! The Freak doesn’t notice it…
Eric: And it’s a massive swing with the right arm! The edge of the chair connects with the Megafreak’s head, and Vance struggles to his feet! He takes another swing, and another, and another! The Freak is staggering, but he’s not falling! Morbis is beside himself, begging for Cavenaugh to do something about this!
Tony: He can’t do anything… no rules, no restrictions.
Eric: And that’s what Cavenaugh’s telling Morbis! Vance has nearly broken that poor chair, but the Freak still stands. Blood is dripping from under the mask, but Vance can’t put this monster down!
[Vance tosses aside the chair, drops to a knee, and uses his good arm to drive a forearm into the Freak’s groin. With the Megafreak doubled over, Obsidian straddles his head, leans forward, and somehow manager to power the beast up enough to connect with a pile driver. Not letting up for a minute, Obsidian climbs to the apron, takes a running start, and connects with a version of the Mile High Drop. Still not letting up, Obsidian climbs the security barrier and leaps off, hitting a body splash on the Megafreak. He hooks the leg and Cavenaugh makes a count.]
Tony: One, two, thr…
Eric: So help me God, Tony, he kicked out at one. Cavenaugh is signaling one, and this match is going on. Obsidian drags the Megafreak to his feet, slaps him across the face, and scoops him up for a massive body slam! Pulling the massive Freak to his feet again, Obsidian pulls him into position for a T-3… NO! The Freak just stood up and back body dropped Obsidian! Obsidian rolls, gets to his feet, and charges the Freak without thought! The Freak reaches out with one massive paw and catches Obsidian around the throat, and it’s a major-league choke slam!
Tony: The momentum has swung back, and it’s the Freak charging forward! Morbis has handed him a chair, and it’s time for a brutal beating!
[Obsidian has reached his knees, and the Freak smashes the chair down with every ounce of effort he has. The chair dents heavily as Vance’s eyes roll back into his head. Blood is pouring down Vance’s face, but he refuses to fall down. The Megafreak takes another swing, this one bending the chair in half vertically. Vance rocks, nearly falls backwards, but gets to one knee. The Freak looks confused, but Morbis continues to scream “Exterminate,” so he swings again. This time the chair breaks, but again Vance does not fall. His face is covered with thick red blood, but he manages to smile, the brilliant white a startling contrast to the nearly black blood. The Freak tries to bring down a punch, but Obsidian catches his hand with his undamaged arm.]
Tony: I don’t believe it, Eric!
Eric: I don’t believe it either, Tony! Obsidian should be dead! He should have at least fallen over! But he’s fighting the Megafreak back! He’s getting to his feet! Morbis! You bastard! What are you doing?
Tony: He’s beating Vance with that cane! Vance is distracted, and the Megafreak uses the momentary lapse of concentration to grab Vance with an Iron Claw! He lifts the Mile High Monstrosity off the ground, rushes, and slams him against the steel ring post! Again! Again! Again! Vance has gone limp, but the Megafreak continues to bang him against the ring post!
Eric: Morbis directs the Freak to drop Vance, and now Morbis is beating him with that cane! It’s two on one, and this is unfair! Wait a second… Cavenaugh has pulled Morbis off! Morbis swings at Cavenaugh with the cane, Cavenaugh ducks, catches Morbis, and it’s a Snake Byte! Morbis is out cold, and the Megafreak is beside himself!
Tony: He’s looking from Cavenaugh to Obsidian, and he can’t decide what to do! He turns back to Obsidian, lifts the Colorado Cyclone…
Eric: Nice one, Tony…
Tony: … to his feet, and looks back at Morbis. He seems unsure of himself.
Eric: He does, Tony. But he still manages to jam his hand into Obsidian’s mouth and lift him up… Obsidian with a poke to the eyes! Obsidian is pulling everything out of the bag tonight, and he won’t go down without a fight! Another poke! Another! HOLY SHIT! The Megafreak still pulled off the Mandible Slam! Megafreak with the cover and it’s one, two…
Tony: THREE!
Eric: NO! Cavenaugh is indicating two! Obsidian has become the first man to kick out of the Mandible Slam. The Megafreak stands, looking confused. Morbis has crawled to his knees, and he’s screaming for another Mandible Slam! Megafreak lifts Obsidian up, grabs him by the jaw, and it’s ANOTHER Mandible Slam! The Freak looks at Morbis, who is indicating to do it again!
[Megafreak lifts Obsidian again, and lifts him by the jaw yet again. Morbis screams to him to stop and points at the ramp. The crowd explodes in anticipation as the Megafreak drags Obsidian up the ramp to the stage. Morbis has managed to shuffle after the two and points at the floor, ten feet from the stage. The Megafreak lifts Obsidian up again, steps forward, and starts to toss him into oblivion.]
Eric: This is the end, Tony. Morbis was pissed about the Snake Byte, and he’s going to let the Freak kill Obsidian for it.
Tony: This is horrible, Eric. This was an epic match, and it could end in death.
Eric: Megafreak lifting Obsidian up, and driving him… OH MY GOD!
[As he was coming down, Obsidian managed to grab the Megafreak by the hair, pulling him off the stage with him. Showing remarkable presence of mind, Vance manages to hook Megafreak’s head under his arm for a sloppy, but effective, major drop DDT. The two men hit the barely-padded flooring and lie motionless as the crowd begins to chant.]
Crowd: HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
Eric: I agree with them, Tony! That was the greatest self-preservation move I’ve ever seen! Both men are down, Cavenaugh has climbed down, and he’s checking to make sure they’re alive. Morbis is screaming for the Megafreak to get up but I gotta say, Tony, I don’t expect him to.
Tony: Me neither. Both men are stirring, and Obsidian is rolling over! Obsidian manages to drape an arm across the Megafreak’s chest, and Cavenaugh counts the one, two, THREE!
Eric: Not so fast, Tony! The Megafreak kicked out. Obsidian pulls himself forward, putting his chest against the Freak’s, and it’s another two count! Obsidian punches the Megafreak in the head, and it’s a third cover… and another kick out! Obsidian and the Megafreak are both soaked with blood, and this match has to be almost over!
[Obsidian climbs to his feet, lifts the Megafreak off the ground, and pulls him into position for a T-3 Termination. Falling more than leaping, Obsidian drives the Freak’s face into the ground, rolls him over, and goes for the pin.]
Tony: One, two…
Eric: No you bastard! Just two! Obsidian is beside himself, but he’s also nodding towards the Megafreak, who isn’t really moving. Obsidian grabs a steel chair, bashes the Megafreak in the head with it, and then drapes the chair over the Freak’s head. Climbing to the ramp, Obsidian signals for the Mile High Drop. Morbis charges Obsidian, grabbing him by the waist and trying to keep him from jumping. Obsidian clubs Morbis on the back of the head, grabs his stringy hair, and lifts him up by the neck. Slowly, Obsidian turns Morbis around and tosses him off the ramp with an amazing After Birth Abortion. Morbis bounces several times before falling motionless. Pointing at the Freak, Obsidian leaps off and connects with a ten foot steel chair assisted Mile High Drop.]
Eric: Oh my Christ, Tony! That’s ridiculous! There’s no way the Freak can kick out! This count is a formality… one, two…
Tony: THREE!
Eric: Indeed it is! Obsidian rolls off of the Megafreak, and he manages to stagger to his feet. Cavenaugh raises Vance’s arm in victory, and oh my God! Vance has collapsed! Cavenaugh is calling for the paramedics for all three men!
[“Paint It, Black” fills the arena as the paramedics arrive, loading the blood-covered Vance on to a stretcher as his music continues]
Eric: I don’t know what else to say other than WOW! I had visions of this encounter and I certainly had dreams, but neither was even close to what I just experienced. And as the medical team carries out Vance and Cavenaugh, The Megafreak has gotten up and left under his own power. Folks, it’s time for our main event, let’s go the ring!
Stuffher: Ladies and gentlemen, this is our main event of the evening and it’s set for one fall! In this contest, anything goes!
Tony: INCLUDING THE CLOTHES!!!
Stuffher: [Nasty look down at Salami.] Entering the ring first, from Las Vegas Nevada, she is the queen of hardcore Roxanne Logan!
[Parting the curtain dressed in her scantily clad red whore suite, Logan runs down to ringside giving the fans a double D giggle like never before seen. Once in the ring, Logan continues entertaining the crowd with jumping jack as her opponent is announced.]
Eric: Fans, Roxanne Logan looks about as in shape as a monkey at the zoo. Seriously Tony, do think that’s the outfit she wore before she gained the 75 pounds?
Tony: Right turn Clyde!
Eric: Exactly!
Stuffher: And her opponent, she is part of Team Outlaw and weighed in tonight at 105 pounds! Ladies and gentlemen, this is America’s Sweetheart, I give you CC!
[As the pyrotechnics explode and the curtain parts, out steps CC in her daisy dukes and wife beater. Approaching the ring, flash bulbs light up the arena like Picolli does joints.]
Eric: For God’s sake, where is her bra?
Tony: [Incoherent babbling.]
Eric: Excuse me if I don’t sound like a professional but inside the ring it’s like beauty and the beast. On one hand you have CC who could pose for Playboy at anytime of the year, and on the other hand you have Roxanne Logan who could pose as Playboy Buddy Rose. What do you think Tony?
Tony: I still bang Roxanne… I mean, does pussy really have a face?
Eric: No, but fat pussy has a very distinct smell.
Tony: When you get to my age anything smells better than 90 year old Mrs. Salami.
Eric: Thanks for sharing that with us Tony.
Tony: No problem.
Eric: Fans, both ladies have finished warming up, the referee has called for the bell, and here we GO!
[Collar tie in the center of the ring starts the action off even and using her incredible size, the 190 pound Logan forces CC into the corner with a pig like grunt. Pounding her ham hand into CC’s face, America’s Sweetheart ducks the slow haymaker. Down low and through the legs, the speedy CC escapes through Logan’s legs. Spinning around, CC kicks Logan in her fat ass and Roxanne looks furious.]
Eric: Logan turns and CC drives a boot into the stomach of her opponent. Logan bends and CC twists into a perfect midrange round house. Logan rocks back!
Tony: No she leans back! Leans back! Lean back!
Eric: Just don’t make her pull up her pants!
[Moving in, CC delivers a pair of knife edge chops to the chest of Roxanne! Again! Again! Again! Rake to the eyes by Roxanne ends in a scoop slam and arching her back in pain on the canvas, the flash photography resembles Desert Storm over Iraq! Straddling CC, Logan plops down with the muffin stuff and CC can’t breath!]
Tony: That move should be illegal!
Eric: Illegal? It should be outlawed! She’s got her crotch smothering CC’s face. Here’s the cover and the count. 1.. 2..
Tony: THREE!!!
Eric: Fingers?
Tony: Huh?
Eric: Kick out by CC and this one’s going to continue. Look at CC’s face, it’s like someone just pepper sprayed her in the eyes!
Tony: Picking a gasping and choking CC from the canvas, Logan calls for the power bomb.
Eric: I think she was motioning for the vendor to give her a Bomb Pop!
[Spinning and reaching up, CC snaps down with a killer stunner and like a whale on the beach, Roxanne Logan has been knocked flat on her back. Up to the rope and turning towards the fans, CC arches backwards looking for a high arching moonsault!]
Tony: Logan’s lifting her knees!
Eric: Moonsault onto Roxanne knees and CC is hurt badly. Pounding the canvas, Roxanne yanks CC up by her hair and throwing her into the corner, CC hits with a thud! Barreling in like an 18 wheeler on crack, Logan launches herself up into the air crushing CC with a 190 pound avalanche!
Roxanne: [Grabbing CC by the face.] I used to be pretty just like you! Now I’m fat and disgusting! CC, I’m going to make you real ugly right now! But before I do…
RIP!!!!
Eric: OH!!! Roxanne just torn open CC’s wife beater and listen the crowd erupt!
Crowd: Holy Tits! Holy Tits! Holy Tits!
Tony: [Gripping his chest.] My heart!
Eric: CC covers up rolling from the ring, Roxanne raises her hands in victory! Look out!
[From behind, Bud the Drunken drills Roxanne in the back with a steel chair and falling flat on her face, Bud turns her over. Gyrating and undoing his pants, Bud rams his crotch into Roxanne’s pumping her like a Saudi oil reserve!]
Tony: Security has hit the ring and they are pulling Bud The Drunken Midget off Roxanne.
Bud: Roxanne, I don’t care how fat you are! I still love you!
Eric: Apparently the Lawn Gnome has been dumped.
Tony: When Bud pulled down his pants it smelled like he took a dump.
[Sliding into the ring barely able to seize command over her goodies, CC makes the 1.. 2.. ]
Tony: THREE!!!
Eric: It’s over! CC has pinned the Queen of Hardcore!
Crowd: Show your tits! Show your tits! Show your tits!
[Climbing the turnbuckle and thrusting her hands high into the air, CC gives the fans full frontal exposure and the place goes ape-shat!]
Eric: That’s it folks we are out of time. So on behalf of the Tony Salami, WeWA / eWrestling.Org and Mr. Batee, I’m going to bid you goodnight from the place that coined the phrases, Enjoy the Brutality and Simply the Best.
Tony: I have a mess in my pants.
Eric: On that note… end Superstars Fantasy card!
[Suddenly you are in the bedroom of eWrestling.Org owner Mr. Batee. Apparently he has been dreaming meaning this card was nothing more than a disturbing but exciting fantasy. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he exclaims under his breath.]
Mr. Batee: Dang, now I finally understand why Eddy Outlaw is… Better Than You!
