Post by The Commissioner on Jun 10, 2020 11:14:42 GMT -5
UP FRONT FUCK POLICE
BLACK LIVES MATTER
Now the cold open.
Ruxx Rampede sits on his bed, his room illuminated by moonlight. He stares wistfully at a toy garbage truck, sitting on his cabinet, across his room. A big fat tear falls from his eye. He bows his head.
Sun streaks through different windows now, and the same garbage truck is being tossed around and played with. It's years earlier, and playing with the garbage truck, is a young Ruxonald Rongram, Ruxx Rampede himself. He is a little black boy, about 7 years old. He has a joyous smile on his face.
Ruxx
Vroom! Vroom! OUT THE WAY BITCHES!!!
Ruxx slams the garbage truck into various wrestling figures, blasting them all across the room. He grabs a Hulk Hogan figure that he's put in a little high vis vest and painted to look black with a permanent marker. This is supposed to be Ruxx himself. I'm surprised Hulk hasn't done this in real life yet.
Ruxx
Which of you niggas is going in the trash!
Suddenly he hears a noise outside, and his ears perk up. His mum runs into the room with an eager smile.
Ms. Rongram
Ruxxy baby! They're here!
Ruxx
Yes! Thanks bitch!
Ms. Rongram only smiles, as Ruxx bolts past her out of the house, taking his garbage truck with him. He runs down the drive, to see the bin men driving down the road towards him, collecting the rubbish as they go. The whole street is out of their doors in their gardens, cheering and clapping them. Ruxx tears up with excitement. He is about to meet his heroes yet again.
They pass by and Ruxx runs towards them, trying to get their attention. The two binmen see him and smile, turning towards him.
Binman #1
If it isn't little Ruxxy boy!
Ruxx
Hey! HEY! HEEEEYYYYYYY!!!
Binman #2
We see you Ruxx! Doing alright?
Ruxx
Yeah! Yeah! Look, I got a new bin man mobile!
Ruxx parades his little toy garbage truck, before looking up in awe at the real one before his eyes. He turns back to the bin men.
Ruxx
Can you sign it?
Binman #2
Sure can you little spruced up cunt.
The Binmen grab the little toy garbage truck, and sign it. Ruxx looks at the signatures, and his eyes tear up yet again.
Ruxx
I can't wait to be just like you guys!
Binman #1
Work hard little man, and you'll get there.
Binman #2
But hey listen…
Binman #2 kneels down to Ruxx's level.
Binman #2
As you can see, this is a rewarding job, people love you.
He points down the street, at the clapping and wooping people at their doors.
Binman #2
But you can't let it go to your head. A binman is first and foremost a man who helps society, collects rubbish, he is not a celebrity.
Binman #1
As Hugh Jackman sang in a film that's not out yet...
I drank champagne with kings and queens
The politicians praised my name
But those are someone else's dreams
The pitfalls of the man I became
Ruxx
I understand, I do.
Binman #2
Good little man, good.
CUT TO
A champagne bottle popping open, and a now much older Ruxx, about 26, in a bright high vis tuxedo, pouring the champagne into various glasses. He is on a huge yacht, with various well dressed and attractive people, and they all woop as they drink the champagne. Ruxx looks out to the waves ahead of him.
Ruxx
I'm on top of the world nigga! I have let the fame go to my head!
He is at Bin Con, this year hosted on a big yacht. He looks up at a big banner that says 'Bin Awards in 10 mins'. He turns to his companions, a bunch of rich folk.
Ruxx
I'm winning the Best Fucking Binman Award niggas.
One of the rich bitches steps forward, a woman in a sparkly red dress. It's Culinda.
Culinda
And you deserve to Mr. Rongram!
Ruxx feels an arm on his shoulder, and turns around to see the face of his fiance, Spaghetti. She isn't Italian she's Chinese. She looks mad at Ruxx.
Ruxx
What's up bitch?
Spaghetti
Don't call me bitch, bitch! You're getting too drunk! What if you win the Best Binman Award! You'll slur through your whole speech!
Ruxx
They won't give a fuck! They all love me anyway! I'm the most loved Binman in the world! I was on Time Magazine! I did the first ever bin round in Space!
Spaghetti
You know what you haven't done yet? Got married! We've been engaged for 4 years Ruxx!
Ruxx
Yeah we'll get to that when we get to that!
Spaghetti
When??? I want to become Mrs Spaghetti Rongram already! I'm sick of being Spaghetti Rampede!
Ruxx
Nothing wrong with the name Rampede.
Spaghetti
It's not about the names themselves, it's about what they represent! It feels like you don't have time for me anymore! You'd rather get drunk with your friends!
Ruxx
You right you right! Tell you what, after the awards, whether I win or not, go in that room of ours, put on something real fucking sexy, and I'll show you just how much time I do have for you, my hot ass Spaghetti ass fiance!
Spaghetti grins, and kisses Ruxx, before scampering off. Ruxx looks at her ass.
Ruxx
FUCK YEAH! That girl is PACKIN NIGGA!!!
Cut to later. Everyone is sat in chairs looking up at the stage. Barack Obama is on stage, holding a big gold award shaped like a wheelie bin. He speaks into the mic.
Barack Obama
And the winner of Best Fucking Binman in the World or whatever this award is fucking called, it's….
He opens the little envelope.
Barack Obama
RUXONALD RONGRAM!
Ruxx
YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH BITCHES!!!
Ruxx shoots out of his seats, and everyone claps and woops, as he starts flipping everyone off. He kicks over chairs and slaps a few people across their faces, but the claps and cheers don't stop. He gets to the stage, and wedgies Barack Obama, before throwing him into the crowd. He picks up his award, and holds it high in the air.
Ruxx
I'm tha champ niggas!!!
Everyone claps and cheers, including Barack Obama who is back on his feet.
Ruxx
I knew I'd do this because I am the best binman. This is no surprise to me. I want to say 'you can do anything you set your mind to', but that isn't true. I'm just the best. Don't idolise me and think you can do what I do. I am better than you. Including Obama.
Everyone continues to clap. Ruxx can do no wrong. He's on top of the world. He starts to pretend to hump the award. The claps maybe actually increase. He looks into the audience and sees Spaghetti smiling at him. She gives him a flirtatious wink, before moving down the hall towards their room, ushering him to follow.
Ruxx
Anyway niggas, I got some luscious ass pussy to attend to! That's right, it's time to…
He puts the mic towards the audience, they all in unison scream 'FUCK! THAT! BITCH!'. Ruxx throws the mic so hard it kills five people. He doesn't care. He cartwheels off the stage and smashes through a bunch of seats, almost breaking his back. He tries to play it off as if it didn't hurt but it really did. Obama is at his side.
Barack Obama
You alright brother?
Ruxx
I'm alright Barack Obama. I've not decided what time period I'm setting this promo in just yet so I don't know if you've become president by this point or not.
Barack Obama
That's alright nigga.
Obama ushers Ruxx over to the bar.
Barack Obama
Lets get you a drink.
Ruxx
Oh I shouldn't, I've got my fiance…
Barack Obama
Come on! You can have one drink with me brother I'm sure!
Ruxx thinks about it for a second.
Ruxx
Alright! ONE DRINK! Not getting too crazy!
Cut to Ruxx absolutely off his tits, snorting a massive line of cocaine off of Obama's cock. Everyone on the boat is cheering and clapping, all throwing champagne and cocaine into their own faces. Culinda is off somewhere getting fucked up the ass by Bam Bam Bigelow. Ruxx jumps on the bar and rips off his high vis tuxedo, before doing the worm along the bar. The whole boat is going crazy.
Ruxx
This is the best way I could be spending my time! I have forgotten any other obligations! I'm pretty sure I haven't forgotten to do something crucial that means a lot to someone close to me, that may have dire consequences and lead to me learning a harsh life lesson that was told to me when I was young by my heroes that I forgot all about. That's the moral of this story maybe? Who knows we'll see!
Obama throws a rock at Ruxx's head and it nearly kills him. They all just laugh it off though. Michael Chiklis moves over to Ruxx, he's had a lot to drink.
Michael Chiklis
You ever need anything nigga, I'm your guy.
Ruxx
Who tha fuck you think you are saying nigga, nigga?
Michael Chiklis
The Thing is a person of colour.
Ruxx
Shit you right he's orange.
Spaghetti meanwhile is out of her room, in sexy lingerie, and she looks over and sees Ruxx dancing on the bar, doing the running man, and shakes her head. She moves off out of the room, out into the blistering cold onto the front of the yacht. No one inside has noticed due to the loud music and the partying, but quite a harsh storm comes along.
Rain hits Spaghetti on her Asian face, hiding her tears. She looks out at the sea ahead of her, the waves coming higher and higher, and she looks down into them. Sad.
Spaghetti
I just want to be loved by him. I just wish I was loved.
Ruxx is off the bar now, and moves into the middle of the dance floor where he starts windmilling his dick. He looks out of a glass door, and sees Spaghetti outside, leaning on the railing, rain hitting her face, looking out at the waves.
Ruxx
Oh shit! My bitch!
Spaghetti looks down into the waves below, and doesn't see it coming when a huge fucking tentacle reaches out towards her. She screams as she's grab and lifted into the air. Ruxx screams, and charges towards the glass door and shatters it with a huge pounce.
Ruxx
GET OFF MY BITCH NIGGA!
Ruxx is too late. Spaghetti screams as she's pulled into the waves below. Ruxx looks helpless, as everyone behind him are in silence now. Ruxx, stripped off completely now, makes a judgement call. He jumps over the barrier and cannonballs into the water below.
Once in the water, Ruxx looks down at the depths below, he sees Spaghetti being pulled down into it, tentacle wrapped around her. He swims as fast as he can towards her. She looks up at him, her face terrified. She reaches up her arms towards him, and he reaches his down towards her. Their finger tips touch, until another tentacle smacks Ruxx across the face. He falls unconscious, and Spaghetti screams, as she's wrenched into the dark depths of the ocean to her death.
Ruxx isn't in the ocean anymore, he's sat on a cloud. He gets to his feet, and moves around it curiously. He peers off the end of the cloud, and sees how high up he is. He turns around, and screams as he sees a plane coming right at him. As the plane hits him, instead of being killed instantly, he realises he is suddenly on the plane itself.
He is stood in the aisle. He starts to walk up and down, looking at the faces in the seats. They are all of Hugh Jackman, who's dead. Ruxx looks sad, as he moves towards one of the Hugh Jackmans, respectfully closing his dead eyes with his fingers.
Ruxx
Damn Wolverine nigga they got you.
Ruxx looks down the aisle, towards the cockpit. He starts to move towards it, before opening it up. There is no pilot. He quickly jumps into the pilot seat, and realises he doesn't really know how to pilot the plane.
The co-pilot seat spins around, and Hugh Jackman reveals himself in that one.
Ruxx
Damn Hugh what do I do???
Hugh
The plane's crashing Ruxx.
Ruxx
Shit! SHIT!
Ruxx looks out the window, and sees the plane is indeed heading straight towards the sea.
Ruxx
Is this it??? Is this the end!??
Hugh
No. It's not too late to save it Ruxx. You just have to make the effort.
Ruxx looks back out of the window ahead, as the plane crashes straight into the ocean, completely obliterating him and Hugh and the whole plane.
Ruxx wakes up, sitting up suddenly and spitting water out of his mouth. He's been washed up on a beach, a beach he's all too familiar with. It's Boynton Beach. He jumps to his feet quickly.
Ruxx
SPAGHETTI!!! SPAGHETTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!
He cries out as he looks out into the ocean ahead. He spots something glimmering wash up onto the beach. He runs towards it, and picks it up. He starts to cry, as he realises it is the engagement ring he gave to Spaghetti. Ruxx collapses to his knees, punching the sand below.
Cut back to the present, Ruxx is sat in his room. He looks from the signed toy garbage truck, over to the Golden Wheelie Bin award sat next to it. He looks down at his hand, the engagement ring around his finger, and gulps.
He gets to his feet, and grabs the wheelie bin award, before storming out of his house.
He pulls up in his garbage truck onto Boynton Beach, before storming over to the waves, wheelie bin award in hand. He looks down at it, he's crying.
Ruxx
Time to take out the trash.
He hurls it into the ocean ahead. It flies far far far into the distance, before finally splashing into the sea. He falls to his knees once more, looking out across the sea.
Ruxx
I'll save that plane Hugh. I promise.
Cut. On a pristine landfill on a summer's evening, Ruxx Rampede, Black Clyde and Big Homunculus are sat in folding chairs. A TV is set up in front of them, not plugged into anything but presumably being powered by sheer black excellence.
Big Homunculus - still sporting bumps and bruises from his Gold Rush war, hand in a cast - wears his prized, animal hide hoody entrance attire.
Black Clyde is reading a magazine, this is the cover.
A figure appears a couple of hundred meters away on the edge of the landfill, it's a police officer.
Policeman
Hey ya'll need to clear outta he-
Before he can finish his sentence, Ruxx throws an empty bean can straight as an arrow and clean through the policeman's skull and out the other side. Black Clyde and Big Homunculus contribute by hurling a litany of landfill items, mainly used diapers, at the body until it's totally covered in a disgusting heap.
Ruxx Rampede
What a beautiful evening.
On the TV, The Greatest Showman is playing.
Big Homunculus
I do not understand. Why is he called Huge Jacked Man? He is not especially large? And why doesn't he simply chokeslam his enemies, who are not protecting their throats at all?
Ruxx Rampede
This is art, my man, you gotta appreciate that not everything is about chokeslams and headbutts and shit.
BLACK AND WHITE FLASHBACK to Homunculus' hand shattering against the golden bone baton.
Back in the present:
Big Homunculus
There is nothing in this for me. All the characters are so elongated and repulsive.
Zendaya's pink-haired character appears on screen.
Black Clyde
Oh my lord.
Big Homunculus
My goodness.
Ruxx Rampede
There's something in this for everyone.
Black Clyde
I think she just injected steroids into my dick
Ruxx Rampede
The Zendaya effect.
Big Homunculus
Maybe you will one day marry this, "Zendaya". I wouldn't have a future with her unless she wanted something to carry around in her purse.
Ruxx Rampede
You need to stop with this self pitying "I hate being a midget" bullshit. Zendaya ain't rejecting you because you're short and neither is that bad little bitch Hayley. It's because you're not confident in yourself. And we got a fight coming up so you better get some gumption from somewhere.
Big Homunculus
Of course.
Ruxx Rampede
Lucky number thirteen entrants but only one winner.
Homunculus looks at Ruxx whose eyes are fixed on the TV screen.
Big Homunculus
There can be only one.
Ruxx Rampede
Too damn right. May the best bin man or midget win. And fuck that white boy balaclava ass bitch he ain’t doing shit this time. Nobody in that ring gonna be able stand up to us, so we need to be in tip top condition because everyone knows we’re the baddest after Gold Rush. We got targets on our well-massaged backs.
Homunculus' brow is furrowed in thought.
Big Homunculus
Very true.
Ruxx gets up and goes to a refrigerator next to them that's being powered by two absolutely shredded hamsters on a wheel.
There's one can of Bin Man's blueberry flavoured soda at the back of the refrigerator and he reaches in to get it, but this is one deep fucking refrigerator. Homunculus watches.
BLACK AND WHITE FLASHBACK to Homunculus looking up at the white turtle-necked man in his blue ski mask bringing the steel chair down on Homunculus' skull.
Back in the present:
Homunculus gets up from his folding chair and picks the chair up in his left hand. Ruxx's head is still buried in the refrigerator, his back to everything.
Ruxx Rampede
Let me know if Zendaya has a sex scene. One with close shots of penetration and all that good motherfucking artistic shit. She didn't the last ten time I watched this but a man can hope.
Homunculus stands behind Ruxx and quietly removes his animal hide hooded cape.
BLACK AND WHITE FLASHBACK to an exhausted Homunculus receiving words of encouragement from a bloodied Ruxx out the window of the garbage truck before Ruxx passes out.
Back in the present:
Ruxx manages to reach the can at the back of this deep fucking refrigerator and turns around to see Homunculus stood ominously, facial expression intensely stoic as if he’s about to do something he’s unsure about the consequences of. Ruxx cocks his head. Homunculus extends the animal hide hooded cape to Ruxx.
Big Homunculus
In the words of Captain Phillips, you are the captain now.
Ruxx takes the hide and for once struggles for words.
Ruxx Rampede
You ain't never seen the film Captain Phillips have you?
Big Homunculus
What is a film?
A beat.
Ruxx and Homunculus go through an insanely complicated secret hand shake, involving high fives, low fives, fist bumps, elbow bumps, front flips, triple back flips, the ritual sacrifice of a unicorn and a far away galaxy imploding. The handshake ends with both of them completely exhausted.
Ruxx Rampede
Why you got that chair under your arm?
Big Homunculus
If I left it out Black Clyde would use it to do feet-raised tricep dips.
Black Clyde
(Doing feet raised tricep dips using a pair of discarded cow skulls) He ain't wrong!
In the background the disgusting pile of diapers is collected by a trash compactor and crushed into a small cube.
Ruxx Rampede
What a beautiful evening.
Cut these words on the screen:
The following limited commercial edition of AWF Tuesday Night PrimeTime is brought to you in large part by iHeartRadio
Fade.
iHeartRadio also presents the following excerpt of Rage 25/8
Previously on Action Wrestling Monday Night Clash! Raging Dead spent several weeks searching for his wife's attacker! It was finally revealed that his arch rival from Trinity Wrestling FRANK LOWE was responsible for the heinous attack! The day Lowe was outted as the attacker, Sara Pettis was not present, as she was overseeing the groundbreaking ceremony for their new training facility. The following is a Duo call between husband and wife, immediately following AW Monday Night Clash on the first of June.
Sara
Are you okay?
Nathan
No. Not at all. Did you watch Clash?
Sara
Yeah! I can't believe it was Frank Lowe all along!
Nathan
Oh, I can. He's always been a heartless bastard. What I can't believe is I asked him about the attack… last week… to his face… and he lied to me. I should have known better than to trust him.
Sara
You've been so worked up about this. Don't blame yourself for missing it. Blame Frank. Save all of that rage for Evolution 3.
Nathan
That won't be a problem. My problem is that I'm having a hard time focusing on AWF. I'm still in the Provincial Championship Tournament… and I feel like I'm letting them down by not giving it my full, undivided attention.
Sara
You'll do what needs to be done there. You always do.
Nathan
Do I though? My AWF run has been spotty at best. It's been peaks and valleys… and now I've got a no disqualification match with Orange Cassidy.
Sara
That’s the guy with the pockets?
Nathan
That’s the one. I’ll talk about him a bit on the podcast. I have an oddly specific disdain for that guy… that I don’t think even you know about.
Sara
I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned his name to me. That’ll be interesting. Who is your guest on today’s episode?
Nathan
Christina. I want to talk to her about plans for MadClan Canada… how she’s liking AWF so far… what plans she has for her future. Stuff like that.
Sara
Ohhhhh that’ll be good. I’ll leave you to it then.
She steps out of the room and he puts his headset on, then rolls his chair closer to the computer.
[PLAY]
Nathan
Hello and welcome to another fantastical episode of Rage 25/8, right here on iHeartRadio. I am your host, The Raging Dead. Today’s episode will feature an interview with my nice, Christina King. Some of you know here as Madwoman Szalinski. One day, you’ll all know her as AWF World Champion. But first… let’s recap what has happened to me recently. My quest to be AWF World Champion was cut short when I was eliminated from the tournament by Athena… but then I qualified for the Provincial Title Tournament by defeating… in a symmetrical turn of events… Athena. Then at Gold Rush… I defeated Wallaby Way Sydney to move on in the tournament. My championship aspirations are paused for the moment because I’ve got a match against Orange Cassidy next week on PrimeTime. Hold on. Is that match really not part of the tournament?
Okay. No, it appears as if our match is NOT part of the tournament. The layout of the tournament remains unclear, at least to me. I’ve got a lot going on right now, so it’s possible I’ve missed something important along the way. What I DO know is that next week… AWF is holding PrimeTime for the FIRST TIME in the United States! Yes, Alberta Wrestling Federation is coming to Tacoma, Washington. What an exciting time to be alive. I haven’t been out to Tacoma in… man… I don’t even know how many years. It’ll be a blast getting back out there… and even BETTER if I add on another win to my growing list. Did you know that I am three and one right now? My only loss was to Athena… which I kind of made even by defeating her the following week. Next up is a man by the name of Orange Cassidy. To you… he’s an internet darling and consistent meme. To me… he’s a fraud.
Let me explain. Early on in my career… and I’m talking EARLY… I was given a weird gimmick for a TV pilot called Family Oriented Wrestling League. Yes, FOWL. The pilot was SO bad that it didn’t get picked up and we all thought we would be blacklisted. My gimmick was very simple. I played the role of Lightbeard the Pirate, one half of the Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything… obviously inspired by Veggie Tales. Our schtick was that we didn’t… do… anything. Super lazy, super light punches and kicks, hands in pocket. Did you catch what I just said? Hands… in… pockets. Our schtick was to do as little as humanly possible… and it was super over with the studio audience. The problem was… it wasn’t over with the suits responsible for picking up FOWL as a TV program. This was 1991… and Orange Cassidy would have been… maybe seven years old. Is it possible that he witnessed this pilot as a child and was inspired to portray this character of his?
That one hour pilot aired across the tri-state area of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut on a Saturday morning… likely when young Orange Cassidy was eating his cereal on his father’s knee. No, I don’t know his life story, but I do know he’s from New Jersey. It has been my conspiracy theory for quite some time that Orange Cassidy EXISTS because of Lightbeard the Pirate. Sure, he’s not a pirate… but everything else about him is spot on what I was doing in 1991. Now… almost three decades later… he’s adored by the internet wrestling community for his lackadaisical demeanor and that stupid… thing… with his pockets. I don't necessarily hate the kid. I just don't like that he's been so successful for being what I consider incredibly lazy.
Yes… it COULD seem like I am jealous of his success doing something I briefly did almost thirty years ago. I will admit that I am a bit envious that he has done so much by doing so little. It kind of sucks that I worked SO hard for SO long, and my efforts can be overshadowed by that stupid thing he does with his pockets. And don't you even get me started on those stupid glasses! The whole gimmick is lazy… and he's so damn smart for taking advantage of the viewing habits of our audience. Back in my day… fans wanted to see professional wrestling. They wanted us to pour our blood… our sweat… and our years on that canvas. They wanted to see the true artists go work.
Nowadays… thanks to a generation of Orange Cassidys… a growing number of fans prefer color by number art. They don't care about our sacrifices. They only care about those STUPID pockets. What would Orange Cassidy be without those stupid pockets? He'd still be playing dress up as an ant or something. The guy has never had to work a day in his life, and that's unfair to those of us who have devoted our lives to this sport. I'm not just talking about me. I'm referring to the Punk Rock Ballerina… The Madwoman… Christina King. At Gold Rush… my niece poured her heart and soul into her match against Orange Cassidy… and that goofball stole a victory from her. And then… I snapped.
I let my rage get the best of me… and obliterated Orange Cassidy with a steel chair. He hurt my niece's pride… and I took matters into my own hands… or rather… a steel chair. It's only right that he has a chance to fight me with no disqualifications. Then again… does he ever REALLY fight? Sure, he does a dive now and again… and he used a done-to-death maneuver to defeat Christina at Gold Rush… but there is NO WAY he can be prepared for this match at PrimeTime. I'm a monster and he's a Muppet. Putting the two of us against each other… while taking away all disqualifications… will only result in me ripping all of his stuffing out. It is going to be so graphic that AWF will probably be banned from holding events in the United States ever again.
Will I feel remorse for the bodily harm I cause to Orange Cassidy? No, not immediately. What physical damage I do to him… will be for the mental damage he did to Christina. While experienced at this craft… she has not experienced enough loss to truly learn from it and grow into a more rounded performer. I, on the other hand… have lost almost as many times as I've won. Even in defeat… I grow stronger than ever. Remember that time I was pinned by Athena? No… you don't… because the very next week I learned from my mistakes and I avenged that loss in record time. That might be the quickest match in AWF history. If I had a producer here on Rage 25/8… I would ask them to research that. Until then… let's all pretend like it's true.
What I'm getting at… is that wins and losses absolutely matter for title contention… but in the grand scheme of a career… they are miniscule. What matters most… are the moments people remember. In a week… nobody but Christina will remember the ending of her match at Gold Rush. What they WILL remember… is immediately following that match when I nearly decapitated Orange Cassidy with a chair. That moment will be amplified thanks to my dominant victory next week in Tacoma. And then… it's on to the Provincial Championship! Maybe? I don't know what's next, to be honest. For all I know… I could take things too far next week… and end up suspended. That's a risk I'm always willing to take. The moments are what truly matter to my legacy… and destroying Orange Cassidy will be one hell of a moment.
I need to switch gears and bring on my special guest this week. She's arguably the best wrestler in Trinity Wrestling history. Former Television and World Champion there. Her undefeated streak earned her the 2019 MVP Award. She comes from a large and complicated wrestling family. I've got her on hold and I am beyond excited to bring her on the show today! She is my niece… my friend… my protégé... Christina King! Hello and welcome to---
[STOP]
As that piece hits a minute five seconds in, the PrimeTime logo animates to life in the forefront of all the ensuing action before flashing into the Tacoma Dome, a sold out audience for the starting show of the U.S. Leg of AWF’s Western World Tour - the reason for the limited commercial special. This week, however, there are no pyrotechnics.
A black velvet carpet is stretched across the ring, as inside it, stands various staff members and wrestlers. Booker T, Rockstar Spud, Eclipse, Phil Goode, Laci Valentine, Jose Figeuiras and his assistant, the now dwarf Roderick Kross, referee Cal Elton, and stood looking especially smug, in a full suit, is none other than TV Personality Howell Saxon. Conspicuous by his unusual attire: AWF’s commissioner has foregone his usual three-piece suit for instead black slacks, Oxfords, and a t-shirt tucked in reading boldly ‘I CAN’T BREATHE.’
The crowd are thrown into a flurry of boos, as the very smug Priscilla is carried out on the shoulders of Prince Albert, the AWF World's Championship held high above her head. She places it down over her shoulder, adjusting her rose crown on the top of her head, as Howell moves over and sits on the middle rope, allowing Priscilla to climb into the ring easily. She gives a wink and a smile at Howell, pulling a microphone out of her jocks, before moving around the ring and inspecting the faces, giving a courteous nod at most of the faces, some of whom nod back.
She stops at Spud, the pair catching eyes, and Spud tries his best to keep his composure as Priscilla smirks at him.
Priscilla Kelly
No way I'm in the ring for that match, huh?
Priscilla holds the Championship above her head.
Priscilla Kelly
That was some big talk last week from a dude out in Round 1.
Priscilla barely pays Spud a second look, moving on from him quickly. Until she comes face to face with Booker T.
Priscilla Kelly
Hey Commish. No denying me that top spot in the Top 10 now, is there? I guess that's why one didn't go up this week? You and Bret will do anything to avoid acknowledging me as the best you got, huh?
Priscilla mimes the action of looking around the ring in an over the top manner.
Priscilla Kelly
Where is that old, out of shape, overrated piece of shit anyway?
Boos from the crowd. Saxon chuckles.
Priscilla Kelly
Not here. Wow. This is how Bret treats his talent people. Not just his talent, either, his top talent. His top champion. I scrape and claw my way to the top of the ladder and succeed in his company despite everything he threw at me, and he can't even look me in the eye and congratulate me when it's all said and done.
Priscilla turns to Booker.
Priscilla Kelly
Couldn't be you, could it Book.
Priscilla extends her hand for Booker to shake. Booker looks down at her hand for a few moments, before clearing his throat, and shaking it. There are boos from the crowd, but Booker knows it's what he had to do.
Priscilla Kelly
Don't look so defeated Book. We could get a cool thing going here. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. And trust me… I give much better back scratches than Sharmella.
Priscilla raises her eyebrows at Booker, who can barely look her in the eyes after that statement.
Priscilla Kelly
And let me tell you all the good news! You are ALL invited to Priscilla Kelly's Bondage Bash! That's right, house party! Celebrating me and my new title win! Everyone on the roster is invited… well except Lt. Andorra, y'know, Lucas' dad. I think things would get hairy with him there y'know? But either way, everyone else! Be there or be fucking square!
Albert starts handing out party flyers. Priscilla only giggles, before twirling on the spot and coming to a sudden stop facing the hard camera. She notices the crowd are booing.
Priscilla Kelly
Boo all you want bitches, I am the champion. I am the face of this company. I proved everything I said. Real wrestling is for smarks and losers and virgins and pussies. If Max Ironside listened to me when I told him all this, maybe if he realised how much his own ass kissing ideologies fucking suck, he'd have had a better chance at winning this belt. But he had no chance. I didn't just beat him once. I beat him twice. Thanks Bret for giving me that opportunity. You gave me a title win and a title defence more or less in the same night!
Priscilla laughs, Albert joining in.
Priscilla Kelly
I notice though, looking around me, Maxi-Pad is tragically not present. Where are ya' Maxi? Come on out, I wanna see that hunky face.
Priscilla looks over at the stage. No sign of Max.
Priscilla Kelly
Oh well, take your time, as soon as your finished wiping up your tears you can-
Priscilla is slightly taken aback, but then a huge smile hits her face as her eyeline snaps to the stage. Ironside appears, face sullen, only barely hiding pure hatred, as she moves down to the ring.
Priscilla Kelly
Here he is! Last week's big loser! Oh wait, last week? That's not right… life's big loser.
Max is at the ring now, climbing onto the apron as he glares Priscilla.
Priscilla Kelly
You lost right at birth didn't ya', you little mutant you! Then you've been losing your way right all the way through your wrestling career! Then you finally came to AWF, thought things might be different, battled your way through the tournament… but-pfft!
Priscilla snorts as she knows what's coming. Max, in the ring now, looks unamused. Albert and Howell join in the laughing.
Priscilla Kelly
But- hahaha- yikes! It was just, cruel, really. Life shouldn't ever get your hopes up, not when it knows it'll all be the same. That L you took to me, was obvious. As obvious as the fact that your whole career going forward will be filled with more and more L's, Maxi-Pad.
Max glares daggers at Priscilla, as she tip-toes closer to him.
Priscilla Kelly
But your biggest loss, is that instead of choosing to have your way with this hot ass in front of you… you choose to stay with that dumb ugly cunt Rayna.
And in the instant Priscilla finishes this line, she's done for. In the blink of an eye, Max has lunged at her, swiping a huge shot at her head that she only barely ducks. He swings again, but he's scooped up by Albert, who throws Max away from Priscilla as the Gypsy Princess bolts out of the ring with haste, escaping her assailant.
Max is back at Albert quickly though, crashing a fist into his nose. Albert tries to follow up with a lariat, but it's ducked, before an enziguri dizzies him and sends him stumbling into the turnbuckle. As the ring starts to empty out, Howell doesn't follow the AWF roster, moving over to Ironside with haste and batting a forearm into his back.
With Ironside doubled over, Howell throws more and more clubs into his back, knocking the Handicapped Hero to his knees. Saxon smiles, moving back a few steps, before lifting up his trouser to leg, to show he has come equipped with none other than that famed steel shinguard of his.
He aims directly at Max's head, readying for him to get to his feet.
But he's spun around!
Booker is there, and lands a huge kick to Howell's gut. As Howell keels over, Booker is already charging off of the ropes…
SCISSOR KICK!
Howell hits the mat hard, clutching at his neck in pain. Booker stands above the downed Saxon, a look of anger on his face.
Commissioner Booker: You don't touch my boys, sucka.
Ironside exits the ring quickly, scanning around quickly for Priscilla, before spotting her a long way away, retreating up the steps in the crowd. She's too far away, chasing her would be pointless, as she runs hectically, title clutched close to her.
When she knows she's far enough away, she turns around to look back at the ring, back down at Ironside, and the two catch eyes. Priscilla looks angered now herself, but not more so than Ironside, who reaches under the apron, and pulls out a steel chair.
Priscilla looks shocked, but does not run to the aid of her pet as Ironside rolls back into the ring and aims the chair at Prince Albert. Booker puts up his hands, as he slowly retreats out of the ring, wanting no part of what he knows is to come.
Albert is finally to his feet, turning around…
And Max clatters the steel chair over his head! Albert's head snaps backwards violently, blood immediately sputtering out of an open wound on his forehead, and before he can even hit the mat, the steel chair is brought over his skull once more!
Blood spatters everywhere as Albert plummets to the mat, but Ironside isn't done! He brings the chair down over Albert again, and again, right over his head. No whimpers of joy or ecstacy, just cries of confusion and helplessness. No masochistic joy derived from this painful endeavour, just brutal unconsciousness, as Albert goes still.
Max finishes up with one final, awful chair shot, before throwing the chair to one side, soaked by the blood that leaks from the skull of Albert. Ironside glares up at Priscilla once more as she ascends the steps in the crowd, the Gypsy Queen looking horrified, terrified, with wide eyes almost filled with tears at the wreckage her poor Albert has been left in. This is not how she expected this to go.
Ironside's theme hits, and the helpless Priscilla starts back up the steps in the crowd, running through the fire exit, Championship still hugged tight. Ironside meanwhile doesn't celebrate, just glaring at where Priscilla was just stood.
He's coming for that title.
A gentle crossfade to the commentary team, back ringside as usual for a Tuesday evening, Christian Cage wide-eyed and too shocked to get the first word this week.
Lance Storm: Well, ladies and gentlemen, that was an unprecedented start to Alberta Wrestling Federation’s Tuesday Night PrimeTime. Good evening - I am Lance Storm, alongside multi-time wrestling world champion Christian Cage to guide you through our fourth edition and first after AWF Gold Rush. There you saw, we crowned our first World’s Champion on that occasion, one Priscilla Kelly, in controversial fashion. Tonight, thirteen men and women will get into that ring in the Gauntlet for the Gold to determine her first number one contender, to face her in two weeks here on PrimeTime.
Lance stops to allow Christian a word, but all his partner can do is turn his incredulous gaze from the camera to the side of Storm’s face. The play-by-play continues his job.
Lance Storm: We are live from the Tacoma Dome in Tacoma, Washington at the start of our Western World Tour. We will have limited commercials - just three, which we are about to take. But when we come back, we see the debut of veteran tag team the Ring Crew, against Chuck Taylor & Trent Beretta: the Best Friends.
Lance Storm’s speech is ended to allow for the commercial fade out, but first we are to a vignette. Fade into a dark room. No lights are on, but there is a slight illumination coming from a laptop. Lucas is laying down under a blanket on one of Priscilla Kelly’s many leather couches, getting in his nightly viewing of “Simon Gotch Buries Enzo Amore” on Youtube. He yawns as the sultry tones of Simon Gotch begin to put him to sleep. His eyelids grow heavy as he starts to nod off. Right before he slips into the sweet embrace of the night he notices a video labeled in his recommendations. “Orange Cassidy Shoot Interview”, the thumbnail was a picture of Orange and the release date was about an hour earlier.
Lucas
That’s weird, these usually don’t happen while the wrestler is signed to a major promotion. Maybe it’s an old one they are only releasing now.
Lucas clicks on the suggested video and immediately he is greeted by freshly squeezed. It looks like the video was shot in a hotel room, not like a cheap hotel room, but definitely one that wasn’t expensive, like an Econolodge. Orange is sitting in an armchair and they are doing that thing where it is shot from a front facing angle, but the interviewer is like diagonal of the guest, so Orange is facing him, not the camera. Orange is in his normal getup, glasses and all.
Interviewer
Thanks for taking time from your busy AWF schedule to sit down with us Orange.
Orange says nothing.
Interviewer
Uh...so you are billed from Wherever, but where did you grow up?
Orange Cassidy
New Jersey.
Orange slumps ever so slightly in the chair.
Interviewer
Is that where you currently reside?
Orange Cassidy
No.
Interviewer
Well, then where do you currently live.
Orange Cassidy
With the Best Friends.
Orange pulls his silver cigarette case out and takes a cigarette. He then grabs his lighter from his other pocket.
Orange Cassidy
Can I smoke in here?
Interviewer
No, I don’t think so.
Orange Cassidy
Cool.
Orange puts the cigarette in his mouth and lights it up anyway.
Someone off camera
There goes our chances of coming back here.
Interviewer
Shhhhh, now Orange, how did you get your start? Who trained you?
Orange Cassidy
Quackenbush.
Interviewer
Is that it? What training school did you attend?
Orange Cassidy
Hero.
Interviewer
Like Chris Hero? Or was that the name of the school?
Orange Cassidy says nothing.
Lucas yawns on the other side of the screen, it’s getting late and he should be getting to sleep. He skips ahead in the video, Orange Cassidy is slumped lower in the chair.
Interviewer
Is it true that Cody made sure there was a giant portrait of him hanging in the AEW locker room at all times?
Lucas skips forward in the video, Orange is lower in the chair than he was previously.
Interviewer
You have gone on record to say that Tony Khan is one of the lizard people,...
Lucas skips forward in the video, Orange is lower in the chair than the last shot.
Interviewer
Sunny once said about you…
Lucas lets out a big yawn, he skips towards the last couple of minutes. Orange is only visible from the nose up now.
Interviewer
Last question, at the time of recording you just competed at AWF Gold Rush and are heading into the next episode of primetime. Is there anything you want to see in regards to your opponent at Gold Rush, Christina King, or your opponent at PrimeTime, Raging Dead?
Orange looks as if he is about to speak when his phone goes off. His ringtone is Escape (The Piña Colada Song). He picks it up and puts it on speaker.
Chuck Taylor
Hey man, we haven’t really talked about AWF stuff since the last show, so I wanted to touch base.
Orange turns to face the camera and moves his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose, so his eyes are staring right into the camera.
Chuck Taylor
Just want to make sure I get the name of the event and your opponent mentioned before we continue. You are facing Raging Dead in a no disqualification match on Primetime four. What the hell is wrong with that dude? Like he didn’t say anything last week and he tries to injure a chick and then tries to cave your head in. Oh wait, I remember, he did say something last week.
Chuck Taylor puts on a voice like when The Rock made fun of Rikishi.
Chuck Taylor
Like my niece says...let madness...reign…
Chuck’s voice goes back to normal.
Chuck Taylor
Like what the actual fuck is that garbage? Apparently madness doesn’t reign, cause your niece quit and your newest member left. I thought the Madlad family was supposed to be all tough and scary?
Chuck’s voice now carries more anger.
Chuck Taylor
And did you listen to his Dead 7/11 podcast? I didn’t but I read someone’s right up on reddit. Apparently he called you a fraud, bet he came up with that one on his own. Also he said some dumb shit about you stealing his gimmick from a show he did in the 90’s, which is just ridiculous. What gimmick? This is your way of life. Yeah, you may have been Fire Ant, but that was a gimmick, that was a persona. Orange is a real person. Also, he said that his gimmick was a rip off of the veggietales characters, the pirates who don’t do anything. The pilot aired in 1991 and veggietales didn’t release until 1993, so he is absolutely full of shit with that lame story.
Chuck’s voice is getting louder as Orange continues to stare down the camera.
Chuck Taylor
You know what else he is full of shit with, his niece. She tried every dirty trick in the book and it didn’t work, you planted her on her top of her head and pinned her in the ring. If she is his protege then he must be a shit teacher. I guess he taught her all he learned after spending thirty years being a big fish in a little pond, attack people for no fucking reason and quit when something doesn’t go your way.
Chuck is now shouting into the phone.
Chuck Taylor
And he called you a muppet! He’s a muppet and he’ll be calling you Jim Henson when you shove your hand up his ass and make his mouth move! He is not going to run roughshod over this company and do whatever he wants! If he tries there is always gonna be three fucking fittatas in the way to stop him! He’s an old man with dementia and you’re gonna take him out behind the woodshed to put him down!
The obvious noise of a chair smashing can be heard over the phone followed by heavy breathing. Chuck’s tone of voice is much more calm and quieter.
Chuck Taylor
I think I blacked out for a second, are we still on the same page for PrimeTime?
Orange slides his glasses back into place and gives a lazy thumbs up.
Chuck Taylor
Alright cool, see you in Tacoma.
Orange hangs up the phone and walks off camera.
Lucas closes the tab and shuts the laptop.
Lucas
Wait till I tell Auntie Priscilla about this in the morning.
Lucas puts the laptop to the side of the couch and falls asleep.
The following preview of ‘Rage 25/8’ is brought to you by iHeartRadio.
Our adventure begins in the living room of the man you know as The Raging Dead. With renovations to CCWA&ICE beginning, he is recording his podcast from a Lazy Boy recliner today. Before he does so, his wife Sara enters the room with a tray.
Nathan
You didn't have to do that.
Sara
You need to relax before your trip out west. I brought you… Game Fuel, beef jerky, Skittles… and the last Twinkie.
Nathan
The last Twinkie on Earth?!
Sara
Just the last one from the pantry.
Nathan
Ohhhh. That makes sense.
Sara
Try to get Rage 25/8 done soonly. You've got a flight to catch.
Nathan
No promises.
She chuckles her way out of the living room and...
[PLAY]
Nathan
Hello and welcome to another episode of Rage 25/8, right here on iHeartRadio. Exciting episode? Ehhh. I am your host… The Raging Dead. On today's episode… I want to talk briefly about MadClan… and how our history has an annoying way of repeating itself. Last year… MadClan banded together in Trinity Wrestling… and the company folded. We went to Action Wrestling and… within a few weeks… half of MadClan left. Now here… same story. I don't have a clear understanding of what's going on with us… but for now… I'm the last mad standing.
Last MAD standing? Sure, I'll own that. At my age… moreso the age of my brain… I slip up with some words or thoughts at times. Ya ever had a stroke? It's not great. So, MadClan appears to be no more… for now. You never know what the future holds… but you can probably put money on MadClan banding together and then falling apart soon after. With that all in the past… what is there to look forward to? Well, I've still got the AWF Provincial Championship to worry about… with a no disqualification match as a roadblock.
You may have noticed I'm a bit old school when it comes to my approach to this business. I'm trying to adapt, as evident by this here podcast… but what I will NOT abandon is shooting. That's at the very core of what this is all about. I have done this for decades… and will continue to do it until I'm ready to hang up my boots later this year. I'll be honest with you all… as always. I'm no good at vignettes. I'm no good at song and dance. I'm no good at slap ass and tickle taint. If you put me out there with the likes of… oh… Orange Cassidy… then it's going to be a trainwreck… but if you take away any chance of getting disqualified… then I'm all in!
Yes… I DO realize this stipulation ALSO benefits Orange Cassidy. Since he cannot go anywhere without his state appointed keepers… I am prepared to ALSO fight Trent and Chuck. They're always hanging around… holding hands… keeping their goofball pal out of trouble. Tomorrow night… he's got a whole mess of trouble to worry about. I am THE Raging Dead, once and future dead king! I am what goes bump in the night! I am… I am… tired. I'm exhausted by this schedule and also thankful that this is my final year. Pockets is pretty lucky to be one of my final opponents… but he doesn't seem to care about anything… at all.
Orange Cassidy… cat got your tongue? Do your Best Friends have to fight ALL your battles for you? That's unfortunate. You could have been something truly special… but instead you do that stupid thing with your pockets and people cream their shorts. Oh. Damn. Is that REALLY all I've got on you? Do I have to dig a little deeper at you to put myself over the top? That's all that REALLY matters about you, kid. In decades to come… your legacy will simply be… pockets. Mine will be decades of domination. Endless evolution and adaptability. Countless superstars who have been trained by yours truly. My legacy is about the powerful moments I have shared with the fans over the years. Your legacy is about… ugh… pockets.
This is as exciting for me as watching you put on sunglasses. So why would I even bother with you anymore? Am I so inclined to think that if your Best Friends could give out another retort you might actually put me in my place? Neither of them is exactly a wordsmith… but they do a decent job of operating the Google machine. I believe it was the flabby friend who pointed out that my VeggieTales tale was bullshit… and he's partially correct. I did not explain the backstory enough. See, I knew Phil from an early test of VeggieTales in 1990. I was 15… and I answered a casting call for voice acting. I did okay with remembering my lines… but when it came to singing… I bombed. I didn't make it past the first round… but I did catch a glimpse of some story ideas. One of them was… you guessed it… Pirates Who Don't Do Anything. I told my trainer about it… and he joked about it with the guy who wrote the FOWL TV pilot.
Was all of that necessary to explain? Absolutely not. Any rebuttal to flabby friend is an absolute waste of my time. What I should be doing is dig down deep and resurrect the monster within who can eviscerate Orange Cassidy within minutes. There is something lying dormant who can peel the flesh back and pick the meat off bones like a piranha. He is not generally welcome inside of a squared circle… but we may have to test out if there really ARE no disqualifications. If I unleash the beast tomorrow night… what can you even do about it, Orange Cassidy? Smite thine evil, young slayer! Oh… that's Buffy. Get jacked and fight forces of evil with your long, majestic hair! Oh… that's Hercules. Damn it!
I'm just trying to help you out, sport. Your schtick is one dimensional and eventually… they will tire of you. Flabby friend and headband friend are better off without you. You're more of a fool that I thought if you believe you truly matter to them. While they will probably be by your side tomorrow night… they can't truly save you from what's coming. I spare nothing and leave nothing in the wake of my destruction. Zero sympathy. Zero tolerance for the weak. Zero fear of the unknown, which is how I see you. You seem to have to have no fear, Orange Cassidy. You want to face me without fear? You want to prove that nothing is too daunting, too frightening for you? Have you ever stared into the face of pure evil and realized that all hope was lost, that everything you thought you were would be picked apart piece by piece? I don't just shred people, I eliminate their hope and spirit. I drain their morale until there is nothing left but a hollow emptiness that creates an infinite void, breaking them as a whole and crushing them as a whole. A shell can't fight and a broken spirit can't win.
I must break you, Orange Cassidy. You may not get that reference. It's from a movie I first watched when I was ten years old. Have one of your pals Google that. I've been called a cliché before. I've also been called unoriginal, too. Maybe I am unoriginal… but I do it originally. I take what was… and make it… More. I provide a fresh spin on old tricks. Only difference is… I'm not using tricks. No smoke. No mirrors. Just a raw… gruesome… terrifying experience that few have happily walked away from. Are you prepared to be my assistant, Orange Cassidy? Tomorrow… I will drive a sword through you… saw you in half… cut off your head… whatever it takes. Maybe I'll even defy the laws of gravity. I will never reveal the secrets behind my magic like that prick Val Valentino.
We are very different beings, Orange Cassidy. You coast through life and I make life happen. I know exactly what I'm doing at all times… and you just… exist in the moment. Do you think everything I've said is just talk? Oh no, Pockets. I am fully prepared to walk the walk tomorrow. There is nothing that will prepare you for what's coming. Not a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice. Not a hand holding session with your Best Friends. You are not set up us the bomb. All your base are belong to Gust. You have no chance to survive make your time.
No… I didn't have another stroke. That's a reference to… oh… nevermind. All of this will go over your head as usual. What you need to understand is that everything that happens to you tomorrow is your own fault. You are responsible for your own destruction. You destroyed my niece's spirit… and that was the catalyst for your demise. Christina will find great success elsewhere… beyond your wildest imagination. I just can't imagine that your imagination is anything even remotely wild. You stand no chance tomorrow night and I'm going to make sure that---
[STOP]
A fade to a return to the commentary booth. Christian still seems somewhat flabbergasted.
Lance Storm: Welcome back to AWF Tuesday Night PrimeTime. Lance Storm with Christian Cage here. Before we get to our opening match, the federation wants to send its apologies to several members of our ring crew and their families following a, well… misunderstanding earlier. Have a look.
The camera frame is fixed on a set of double doors leading to the parking lot of the Tacoma Dome. A large *CHUNK* can be heard as the doors burst open from the outside. The sudden brightness initially blinds the camera for a moment, before eventually self correcting itself to show 4 figures. The two in the middle, both known as being one of the Best Friends, are wearing black pants, with white stripes, and suspenders. Chucks being white, and Trents being black. On the face of each superstar are a pair of small, round sunglasses.
One hand of each man is pulling along a rolling luggage bag, while a good looking girl is hanging off the other. As they take a couple steps inside, they both turn towards their lady friends, before pushing them out of the doors before they close. The two pals smirk at each other as Trent motions his head further into the venue. They soberly walk with as much cool swagger as they can. As they walk by one of the maintenance workers, Chuck swipes away the can of Mountain Dew the man was drinking. Chuck takes one sip out of the can, before throwing the can into a garbage bin they pass.
Eventually the men reach the big board that was the night's match ups on it. In unison, they start at the top of the list, and work their way down. They both see the match:
TAG TEAM MATCH: BEST FRIENDS VS RING CREW
They stare at the board for a second, then slowly look at each other, before shifting their focus back to the board. Chuck looks closer at the board, slowly takes his glasses off, then looks at his best friend.
Chuck
We gotta go against the whole motherfucking Ring Crew?
Trent shifts his sunglasses to the tip of his nose.
Trent
That can’t be right? That’s like, 15 people. How are we supposed to do that?
Chuck
I know, it might be even worse than that. I think there’s 16 people on the ring crew here! This is some Sweet Kentucky Fried bullshit right here! I know we’re the best and all, but is this what Bruce Hart does to his top guys?
Chuck takes the sunglasses he was holding, and snaps them over his knee, then throws then at his feet.
Trent
What are you doing? Those cost like $4.99 at the airport! You need to calm down for a moment.
Chuck
Calm down? CALM DOWN?!?! Brother, I am hot right now, alright, and I need some answers. Someone around here has to know something. I’m going on a witch hunt here, and I ain’t stopping until I get what I want!
Chuck leaves his suitcase at the foot of the board, before walking off down a hallway with a brisk pace. Trent looks to go follow Chuck, but notices that he left his luggage there. He sighs and grabs it for him, now pulling both bags behind him, and jogs to catch up with Chuck.
They reach two guys talking to each other and drinking cups of coffee outside of a maintenance closet. The Kentucky Gentleman squares himself towards the two guys.
Chuck
Hey Bean Heads, do you know what the deal is with our match tonight?
Both men look at Chuck with confusion.
Guy #1
Why would we know?
Guy #2
Yeah, we’re just a couple of Ring Crew workers.
Chucks face starts to get red with anger as he looks at the two men.
Chuck
Did you just say, Ring Crew?
Before the workers can react, Chuck shoves them both into the closet. He reaches in and grabs the door to slam it shut. Luckily for Chuck, this was one of those heavy doors that had the latch type lock at the top of the door. He latches the door locks, then triumphantly looks back at Trent with a big, cheesy smile on his face. Trent looks back with horror on his face.
Trent
What was that for?
Chuck’s smile doesn’t leave his face.
Chuck
Think about it, if we gotta fight the whole Crew, we might as well make our odds a little bit better right? That’s two less guys that we have to go up against now. That’s using our ol’ heads there Greggie Boy!
Chuck taps on the side of his head.
Chuck
We should go find some more members of the setup crew, try to even it up a little bit more. What do you say?
Trent
Fine. I guess it really is our only chance of winning tonight.
The two start to walk further down the hallway, Trent still pulling both his and Chucks bags behind him. A few shouts can be heard from behind the newly locked door. They roll up on 3 people all sitting at a table, all wearing black shirts with “AWF RING CREW” on the back of them, and eating the catering provided. Trent releases one of the bags and chops Chuck across the chest.
Trent
Leave this one up to me big guy. I got something up my sleeve for these fools.
Trent lets go of the other bag, letting it fall to the ground. He stands up straight, then seems to shake a bit, as if trying to get into a certain character. He takes a moment before walking straight towards the group.
Trent
Hey guys, what up?
The group all seems to respond with general “Hey”s and “What’s going on?”, but Trent just stands there, not knowing what to do next, clearly not having a plan. Eventually he just points at one of the plates they are eating off of.
Trent
So, Sesame Chicken, huh? Good stuff.
At this point, the group just shows obvious signs of being uncomfortable, and all turn away from him to go back to talking and eating their meals, hoping he will just leave if they ignore him.. Trent turns around to Chuck and motions to him that he needs some help. Chuck just shakes his head, leaving it all up to Trent to handle.
Trent
Hey, what I mean is, there’s a fire here. Yeah, a big fire, whole place is gonna go down, it’s gonna be nuts, absolute hell. You guys gotta get outta here, and fast. In fact, better start going now. Hurry!
One of the workers stands up and walks over to Trent.
Worker
What the hell do you mean? Get outta here man, we’re trying to eat.
Trying to think fast, Trent all of a sudden grabs the guy and puts him in a sleeper hold, but it doesn’t last very long, as the 2 others get up right away and push Trent off. They shout at him to piss off. Trent walks back to Chuck defeated.
Chuck
What happened brother? I thought you said you had that one.
Trent
I thought I did man, but I lost it. Now what do we do?
Chuck
(Throwing his arms in the air) God! This is so unfair! How can Brucer T do this to his tag team champions?
Trent grabs Chuck by the shoulders and shakes him
Trent
Get yourself together man! We can do this.....together.
Trent extends his hand towards Chuck. Chuck looks down at Trent's hand, then back into Trent's eyes.
Chuck
Together
They grasp hands, face the men and walk towards them. Right as they are about to get in arms length, Chuck stops in his tracks as Trent is jerked backwards from the loss of momentum.
Trent
Chuck! We can do this! The power of our friendship will get us through this, it's gotten us through tougher times before. Remember Bangladesh? Remember Laos? Member the French Riviera?
Chuck
(With his head down) I remember…
Trent
We've been through so much shit. Defeated mighty tag teams with a kick. Now it's time to knock these fuckers down!
Chuck and Trent embrace in a tight bear hug. Mere feet away the group are watching the events unfold.
Guy #3
Jesus Christ what are these guys doing?
Guy #4
I don't know but it's freaking me out, let's go eat somewhere else.
The three men get up and waddle off. Trent and Chuck break up the hug and charge towards the now empty chairs. They both stop and skid almost sliding into the furniture.
Trent
Well, that solves that. Now what?
Chuck
(with a slight tear in his eye) Let's keep going
Trent
What?
Chuck nods his head towards a door. On it a sign reads "Ring Crew Staging Area"
Trent
Are you sure?
Chuck
Yeah
Trent and Chuck grab hands again. They each pick up a steel folding chair and head towards the door. They reach the sign, Chuck gives it a big boot as it flings open, inside are several men in all black with AWF Ring Crew T-Shirts on. Both men scream at the top of their lungs while holding hands running into the room, chairs cocked back as far as they can. They take a mighty swing as the scene fades to white, then back to the commentary booth.
Christian looks shook yet again, with his hands spread. Lance tries to speak, before the camera immediately cuts him off.
In the backstage area of the Tacoma Dome strolls one Orange Cassidy to a canned roar of the crowd. He is wearing his normal getup of denim jacket, AWF Best Friends shirt and jeans. Ya know what, just assume he's always wearing that unless I state otherwise. Orange looks up at a clock that is hanging on the wall. It's five minutes before the show starts.
Orange Cassidy's Internal Monologue
Need to kill some time, but don't wanna bother Chuck and Trent.
Orange looks around and sees the catering area. He slowly walks over and takes a seat at one of the tables, there is a tv in the corner that is playing the show. Orange puts his feet on the table and leans back in his chair to try to catch a look at what might be on the broadcast.
Orange Cassidy's Internal Monologue
I'm on next, so I can't stay for long
A few of the AWF staff members walk past, chitchatting as they go.
AWF Staff Member
Did you listen to the new Episode of Dead 25/8? Raging Dead was so intense, he sounded like he really wants to hurt Orange Cassidy. Poor guy...
Orange sighs as he glances over at the television, the vignette taking over the screen.
Pyro
Go away.
The lump under the pile of blankets grumbled, reluctant to leave the sanctuary of his bedroom, or the relative warmth of his bed. The knocking continued, despite his best effort to ignore it.
Pyro
Slava!
He threw his head back and bellowed, expecting his partner in all things to have already answered. The knocking continued, more insistent this time.
Pyro
FOR FUCK'S SAKE!
His feet hit the floor, noticing the coolness of the hardwood beneath the bare soles. Someone had been playing with the thermostat again. Someone would need a talking to.
Shirtless, Pyro padded to the door, the camera following along from behind. He was still half-asleep, barely with it and he'd already undone the security latch before a large, beefy hand appeared in front of his face, keeping the door from opening.
Enigma
Tvoya maska!
(Your mask!)
Pyro immediately snatched a hoodie from the hook beside the door and threw it over his head, disappearing from sight while the big, bald man fiddled with the door. He couldn't figure out how to activate the camera to see who was out there so he finally shrugged and opened the door.
Enigma
Hello, friend!
A camera crew stood at the bottom of the steps, milling around with their equipment. A pimple-faced intern stood in the doorway with a clipboard in hand.
Intern
Oh, hi. Are you… Peter… uhhhh… Vlad… uhhhmm… Vladimir-
Enigma
Pyotr Vladimirovich?
The kid nodded. The mountain of a man nodded. The kid turned and gestured for the crew to climb the steps and Enigma stepped back like a gentleman and let them walk right in.
Pyro
Who was at the-
The last word fell from his lips as something almost forgotten, the train of thought derailing with a huge path of wreckage. At least he looked presentable in his mask, now wearing the hoodie, partway zipped to maximize how well his chest looked in the morning sunlight.
Pyro
…door?
Intern
We're here, sorry just a little late, we had a bit of trouble finding the place.
The masked man looked at Enigma who was staring at the equipment like a kid on Christmas morning.
Pyro
Might help if I knew who 'we' are…
Intern
Oh my God, I'm so sorry. You must've forgotten. This was all set up through your secretary. A Mr. Slave?
Pyro
Slava.
He corrected automatically, wheeling around and storming over to the big man. Hands on his hips, he glared. When the mountain didn't move or even look away from watching a man set up a boom mic, Pyro slapped him hard across the chest, leaving a red mark.
Pyro
What did you do? Who are these people?
Intern
We're from CraveTV. It used to just be a Bell Canada thing but then HBO bought it or something so now…
Pyro
What?
INTERN:
We're like… a streaming service. Anyhow, we're from a new show, and we chronicle-
Pyro
What?!
Intern
We left you a message last night, reminding you that we'd be shooting today.
Pyro glanced over his shoulder, at the answering machine resting on the counter. He could see the blinking light from here. He didn't even realize the thing was still connected, that they still had a landline phone that worked in this house.
Pyro
Oh. What are we shooting?
Intern
Wow, so like you don't even know. Ok, my name's Carson Bilson, and I'm the host of what's gonna be this Fall's top new show. It's called STAR STRUCK.
Pyro
WHAT?!
Intern
Star Struck. It's like, where we bring in a fan, and let them hang out with their favorite star for like the whole day, and we record it and stuff. Let people meet their heroes…
Camera Guy
(under his breath) …and find out what big douches they are.
Enigma closed the door, looking joyful even though Pyro shot him a withering glare.
Pyro
I am not a fan of reality TV.
Enigma
Carole Baskin... killed her husband, whacked him…
Pyro
That is different, Slava.
Intern
So, like do you guys want us to set up here?
Pyro
So, I suppose I'm obligated to go through with this, aren't I?
Enigma
We did not have press. We did not have a match in Calgary like you promised. This is next best thing. We will become viral, like pandemic…. but not deadly.
Pyro
Where's the fan?
Intern
There were some problems in wardrobe or something. He's on his way..
Pyro
Fine. I'm going to take a shower. Don't touch anything, or I'll break your fingers.
He stormed from the room, slamming the bathroom door hard enough to rattle the windows. The kid turned to Enigma.
Intern
So, uhhhh… what's the thing here? Are you guys into drag or something?
Enigma
Like RuPaul? I like him. He is very nice. Very pretty lady.
Intern
No… but like… what's the deal here? Who are you guys?
Enigma
We… wrestle. Sometimes together. Sometimes with others. They are going to pay us again and we will be rich beyond our wildest dreams.
The kid nodded as though that made perfect sense, gesturing to the cameraman.
Intern
Told you they were X-Tube guys. This one's obviously a bear. Pay up, man. I fuckin' knew it.
Enigma
I wrestled a bear once. I do not recommend…
TO BE CONTINUED ON EPISODE 1 OF STAR STRUCK
COMING SOON TO CRAVETV AND HULU.
A crossfade back to Orange Cassidy when a figure sits across the table from him, putting down its coffee.
Unknown Voice
Hey Kid...
Orange looks to see it's Bruce Hart! Orange takes his feet off the table as a sign of respect.
Bruce Hart
I've been watching your work. I think you are a real one of a kind talent.
OC is taken aback that one of his childhood heroes, Bruce Hart, is giving him this kind of praise.
Bruce Hart
I gotta give you a bit of advice kid. These opponents of yours, you let them treat you like a rag-doll. I know it's your shtick to not do much and I get that, but if these people have a clear intent to hurt you, you gotta fight back.
Orange opens his mouth as if he is about to reply, but Bruce continues.
Bruce Hart
Like in your match with Dyno-Mike, you just let him batter and scar you. Yeah you turned his brain into grey-matter, only after he tried to turn your face into a Picasso. When you know you are going into a serious situation, you gotta take it seriously. Here.
Bruce Hart slides his coffee cup across the table to OC, who looks at it with big eyes. Orange picks up the cup and stares at it, before slowly moving it to his mouth. As the hot brown liquid touches his lips, the familiar burn covers his entire body.
Rough Male Voice
]You're worthless!
Bruce Hart
You gotta use everything you got!
Orange's body continues to burn.
Rough Male Voice
You're made me do this!
Bruce Hart
You gotta make them pay for what they do to you!
Orange keeps drinking the coffee, the burn intensifying.
Rough Male Voice
You're a waste of life!
Bruce Hart
You gotta prove why you're one of the best!
As the cup becomes empty, the last drops passing through the lips of Orange Cassidy. The burning stops and his mind goes quiet. The burn is replaced with the feeling of rage and his mind is going a mile a minute.
A small smirk comes across the face of Bruce.
Bruce Hart
Now you're ready kid! How do you feel?
Orange says nothing as he breathes heavily and his heart beats out of his chest. From behind where Bruce is sitting, Orange sees that The Raging Dead is making way past gorilla, still in his street clothes.
Orange Cassidy
Why wait for a ref?
Orange stands up quickly and makes his way towards Raging Dead.
Bruce Hart
Hey kid!
Orange turns around to face him.
Bruce Hart
You might need this!
Bruce Hart tosses a steel pipe to Orange. He catches it then faces Bruce with a confused look.
Orange Cassidy
Why do you just carry around a steel pipe?
Bruce Hart gives a lazy thumbs up and then Orange Cassidy turns to hunt down Raging Dead. His steps are quiet, but Dead’s instincts must tell him something as he turns just at the right time to guard his face -- but Orange’s rage has his instincts on high as well, as proven by the swift gut shut to the exposed torso!
Lance Storm: I think Christian is having a stroke at all this pandemonium, and this won’t help it.
The pipe bends when wailed against Dead’s back, dropping him to one knee. The camera handler steps back to allow distance when Commissioner Booker can be suddenly seen pulling referee Cal Elton to the ordeal, then looking into the camera.
Booker T: Start it now, hell! (towards camera handler) Keep up!
Ding!
Booker’s out of the frame as one more steel pipe blow lands across Dead’s back then another. Cassidy chucks the pipe then grabs at the man’s head, forcing him from his kneeling position into the steel middle beam part of the nearest double door. Dead’s head reverberates right back into Cassidy’s head who tries to slam it on a nearby wooden table, but Dead slams both hands down as as block, before jamming four quick elbows to Cassidy’s gut and giving him the table head slam. He doesn’t let go of his grip and slams the head down again!
Raging Dead: Oh, kid, you wanna play like that?!
Another head slam, this one breaking the bridge of Cassidy’s shades. An elbow to the back of the head leaves Cassidy on the table.
Raging Dead: Let madness reign! Let madness reign this whole night!
One more head slam, then another before he lets loose of the grip, only to pull a knee up into Cassidy’s midsection. He drags him by the hair toward Gorilla, but as they get there Orange turns it around and Dead’s head is sent flying into a metal pole holding up part of the curtain. It’s sturdy, luckily for the position, but not for Raging, who eats a sandwich between Cassidy’s dropkick and that same pole! The Best Friends have suddenly come from deeper into the position, where the producers sit, since they were on next, but back away when they see Cassidy has everything in hand.
Lance Storm: The Best Friends, as they should, letting Orange fight his own fights. It’s one-on-one here.
Dead crawls to another nearby pole then the steps to the stage, before Cassidy dropkicks him in the back up them. His body awkwardly rolls over and then on all fours again, but Cassidy drops him with a flying knee to his face. Groggy, he’s at Orange’s liberty as he gets thrown through the curtain, the cut to the arena showing Dead flying out and the crowd wildly on their feet.
Lance Storm: We’re at least getting closer to the ring.
Dead forces himself to recover quickly despite the obvious daze, getting to his feet and meeting a charging Cassidy with a kick to the gut - sudden snap DDT on the metal! Cassidy pops up and the wound he’s had since Dyno-Mike PrimeTime III attack has been reopened! The crowd boos, on one man’s side at this point.
Dead takes only a second to recover before he’s back on his feet and stomping away at the downed body. He pulls Orange to all fours, only to grab onto his body and force a few knees of his own into Orange’s face, each shot worsening the bloody area. He doesn’t let Cassidy’s body on the fifth and last, instead sending his head into a steel part of the entrance area, then sending the body rolling down the ramp. As it stops, Dead kicks it down further, having to do this four times before the end of the ramp is reached.
Once they’re there, Dead immediately makes off toward the steel steps, breaking them apart as soon as he reaches them. The crowd’s furor grows.
Lance Storm: Those steps weigh hundreds of pounds, so whatever he’s got planned is no good at all.
Although it looks like Orange’s head is about to be jottled by the steps, another smart dropkick, but to the knee, sends the steps to the first lean of the ramp, Dead falling on his knees, his chin clattering down! Blood spittles from his mouth as his head bounds back, the back of it hitting the arena floor hard on the back bump. The referee’s attempt to check on the veteran is pushed off by Caissdy, who drops the steps flat as they sit naturally to put Dead facedown on top. With a smooth motion, he hops to the top of the arena barricade and cannonballs into a leg-drop across the neck!
Lance Storm: My goodness this is brutal! Orange Cassidy himself is gripping at the right hamstring and the referee is trying to check up on both, but the carnage is unlike anything we’ve yet seen here in AWF!
It takes Orange Cassidy over ninety seconds and the help of the barricade for him to be the first up, as Dead can only manage a weak neck pull up under glazed, lost, unsure eyes. Cassidy watches as his foe spittles up blood, the sight seemingly fuel for the concrete converse to the face that reverberates the back of Raging Dead’s head back off the arena floor.
Lance Storm: Orange is gripping at that hamstring again after using it for that strike, but he’s trying to walk toward the ring.
It takes him a while, a limp he was not expecting coming against him. Limp or not, it doesn’t change the look of determination on his face as he takes the time he needs to get to the ring and rummage under the ring to find a large wrench!
Lance Storm: There are nothing but bad intentions running throughout this one.
When he turns around after a small backwards hop, he’s met by a furious Raging Dead who has managed his way up through a sick second wind, pitching Cassidy’s body from a t-bone suplex back first onto the steel steps! The crowd gasps at the way his back bends, then slumps over until he falls seemingly lifeless with his face to the floor. Raging Dead turns to look at his work, then succumbing to the earlier onslaught with a Ric Flair front bump.
The camera pans to show the sold arena who begin to clap their two gladiators on, the two men laying lifeless for over forty seconds before they begin to stir at the same time, motioning to opposite barricades toward the end of the ramp. Tacoma chants them both on as they have to take another twenty seconds to use them to pull themselves up, then suddenly manage to clock each other at the same time with right hands that stagger them both back.
Cassidy lands a gut kick that stuns Dead enough for Orange to begin a hair-pull toward the ring, but Dead turns it around, only for Cassidy to turn it back around -- with Dead putting a veterans’ instinct to turn it around again, only this time dipping and gripping at the right hamstring in an uncomfortable looking dragonscrew legwhip!
Lance Storm: Raging Dead has been in nearly every situation there has been to be in, at least once, as proof there.
Dead’s like a ravenous animal with his grabbing and throwing Cassidy into the ring, where he rolls to the center before attempting to stagger to his feet. Before he can get a swing in, Dead has grabbed his head and has no regard for self with the headbutt to the open wound! Orange soon finds himself in a clutch he doesn’t want to be in - head tucked beneath Cassidy’s legs, in cradle piledriver position -- DEAD WEIGHT! He doesn’t let Cassidy’s body go on the bounce, instead pinning the shoulders down from the position!
Cal Elton: ONE!.........
TWO!...........
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Mark Beverly: The winner of this match: RAGI--
Before Beverly can finish his announcement, Dead is in that familiar rabid fury, grabbing at Orange and hurling up and over the top rope to the outside! Cassidy’s body rolls and crashes into the announce booth, back first and his bad hamstring wrapping around the edge without any give!
Raging Dead d. Orange Cassidy in 10:24
The crowd that was starting to come back around to the Ozone Park native immediately turn back to the familiar boos that followed him out of Gold Rush.
Lance Storm: There’s absolutely no need for this.
Christian can be seen -- incredulous. Dead has exited the ring, his stalking eyes never losing sight of the man that had the gall to attack him with a steel pipe while the man was still in his damn jeans. The two angry bear-like paws that wrap around Cassidy’s bloody head make a perfect target for one more headbutt, then a third, and a fourth, before Dead let's go and allows the body to drop.
The Best Friends are there to meet him by the time he begins stripping the announce table, Christian bouncing around with a shocked look but still stunned silent. They club him at the time with forearms to the back of the head! Without a second thought, they’re both wailing away with punch after punch, setting Raging Dead himself up for a maneuver!
Chuck begins to hold down Dead’s legs as Trent sends a series of elbows to the face, a roll into the ring following!
Lance Storm: What are we about to see? Christian? Christian?!
Trent plants his feet and does a second take before deciding on anything….
His feet shift….
AND IT’S ENIGMA FROM BEHIND PUSHING HIM OFF THE TURNBUCKLE AND HURLING INTO THE CORNER OF THE BARRICADE!
Lance Storm: Enigma! From nowhere!
Before Taylor can react to anything, Pyro has come behind him and whacked him in the back of the skull with a recognizable bent steel pipe!
A sudden cut to the stage where we see Commissioner Booker yet again, pulling out Wilford Daniels and issuing him toward the ring. As if he were Charles Robinson, he slides in just in time as Chuck’s rolling body stops in the center of the ring and the boastful Pyro walks into the ring to follow.
Ding!
Cut to Enigma grabbing Trent in his arms and driving his back into the steel post, pulling back, then driving again! Limp, the body falls when he lets loose.
Cut to Pyro with an arrogant side headlock in the center of the ring, but Chuck Taylor is fighting it - before Pyro drags him down to the mat and forces him to sit it out. As Enigma climbs to his respective corner, Pyro begins to draw the hold up, Taylor taking advantage once on one knee to begin landing elbows, before Pyro sends a knee to the bridge of his nose - a move enough to daze him for an Irish whip into the corner.
Wilford Daniels: TAG!
Pyro forces a palm up under Taylor’s chin, exposing his gut for Enigma’s stiff boot to the gut, bowling over the smaller man. A stiffer right fist drops the man to a weak single knee, and before long he’s been hammer thrown into the opposite corner! Cut to the corner and ropes reverberating wildly from the impact from a view outside, Trent using that very same ringpost - their legal corner - to get to his feet.
Enigma flashes crazy eyes at Trent on the outside, who grabs at his back. Chuck is helpless in the big man’s grasp, in a powerslam position, before being brought down over the knee with a backbreaker! Taylor can’t quite get to his feet at the same time and recover enough to block Enigma’s rope-rebounded big boot to the face! Hook of the leg.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!...........
TWO!........
KICKOUT
On his come up, Taylor finds himself in the double choke grip of Enigma, who pulls him to his feet only to throw him across the ring, toward Pyro! Trent has managed his way to his respective, only to get a mush in the face from Enigma he wasn’t expecting. The big man moves quicker than expected away from any possible grip, jumping onto the middle rope with the same leg he uses to deliver the springboard knee to the skull of the recovering legal Best Friend! Another leghook.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!.............
TWO!.........
T- KICKOUT
Taylor’s attempted rise is met with another patient Enigma, who levels him with a discus elbow. A punch to Trent that he wasn’t expecting, nearly knocking him off of the apron. Enigma hooks the leg again.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
This time Enigma looks slightly aggravated and charges towards Trent, who this time expects him, dodging it and clocking the big man in face with a kick that turns him directly into Chuck’s opportunistic slingblade! The Best Friends’ first pinfall attempt!
Wilford Daniels: ONE!...........
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Trent has set up on the top rope and is off with a Heartbreak-esque diving elbow drop! Taylor rolls into the leg hook.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!..........
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Trent’s already off the ropes with a springboard moonsault and almost stays for the cover until he realizes he can’t -- but Enigma forces him up and nearly out the ring before he can move! Back to his feet, he eats Taylor’s kick to the gut and Trent’s forearm to the face.
Wilford Daniels: Trent, get outta here! I’ll start the count!
Beretta instead runs to his corner then back with a running dropkick to the face, staggering the man back and to one knee!
Wilford Daniels: ONE!
Pyro is into the ring fast to even the numbers’ game, catching Beretta in a hurricanrana as Trent was running in for another dropkick! Just then, Taylor knee strikes Enigma in the jaw to send him back then attempts the same on Pyro, who sidesteps it -- into a springboard DDT -- no, it’s caught into a northern lights by Chuck!
Pyro rolls out of the ring as Enigma suddenly drops both Trent and Chuck with a double clothesline! He goes for the illegal man, who kicks and punches away long enough for the legal one to dropkick Enigma in the back of the head, breaking the grasp. He rebounds off the ropes, into Trent’s flapjack, into Chuck’s sitout facebuster! Trent returns to his turnbuckle as there’s a cover attempt.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!...........
TWO!.........
KICKOUT
Chuck rolls over.
Wilford Daniels: TAG!
Over the top rope and in, senton! Trent crawls back for the leghook!
Wilford Daniels: ONE!...........
TWO!........
The referee is dragged out of the ring by Pyro, and the two immediately get into an argument on the outside about it. Taylor hops off the apron to get involved.
Inside the ring, Trent continues his assault, rebounding off the ropes -- RAGING DEAD!
Lance Storm: Was that the steel pipe?!
The same bent pipe clocks Trent over the back of the head, in Dead’s possession as he suddenly pops onto the apron then back down once the deed is done! A limp body falls into Enigma’s choking grasp, and Beretta’s body is up:
Lance Storm: Questions and Answers!
The sitout chokeslam makes the whole ring shake, he keeps the sitout for the cover. Pyro forearm strikes Chuck to the ground, and the referee notices the situation.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!.............
TWO!.........
THREE!
DING DING DING
Boos follow Enigma as he rises, Pyro as he enters the ring, Raging Dead as he walks away from the situation up the ramp. Pyro orders the referee to raise their hands, which he does once he’s between the two men and facing the hard camera.
Mark Beverly: The winners of this match - Pyro and Enigma: THE! RING! CREW!
Chuck stands over Trent, trying to wake his buddy when Enigma grasps him from behind in a wheelbarrow position he can’t fight off but desperately tries as evident by his swinging arms -- until he’s put down by the Face Eraser! Hastily, Pyro raises Enigma hands along with his own, welcoming in the chorus of boos as we fade to our second to last commercial break of the night.
Ring Crew d. Best Friends in 7:08
We return to a different plane of existence.
YouTube
José Figueiras shows up on screen.
José Figueiras
Yes, I am José Figueiras
Half of the livestream count goes off because most people's WiFi can't handle pure greatness.
José Figueiras
I shit you not. I am José Figueiras
The livestream viewers count now quadruples from the original number because it's José Figueiras. José Figueiras rolls in a casket-shaped box, as well as his faithful assistant Roderick Kross.
José Figueiras
I am now going to chop Roderick Kross in half.
Roderick Kross nonchalantly climbs into the casket shaped box. José Figueiras produces a chainsaw from his back pocket and revs it up for about 10 minutes (it really goes to show how the wrestling industry has evolved so much! A few years ago,10 minutes was the longest you could upload on YouTube, and nowadays you can upload any video despite its length, giving any wrestler a different platform to promote his or his self.) before chopping Roderick Kross in half.
José Figueiras
Let's see how our friend turned out!
José Figueiras opens up the casket-shaped box and pulls out Roderick Kross, who is now a midget.
José Figueiras
Haha
Cut.
INT. LOCAL LEATHER TOUR BUS - NIGHT
Panda is driving and Ziggy is in the passenger seat (as usual) with Spud and Fringe in the back poking their heads through the gap in between. The band look ecstatic.
Panda
Oh my God lads, wow.
Fringe
I KNOW MATE!!!
Ziggy
We were on fire.
Spud
Best gig yet?
Other 3
Hell yeah!!!
The members sink into their seat in chilled jubilance. Fringe pulls out some kind of pipe and lights one end whilst puffing the other.
Fringe
Anyone want a bit of this.
Panda
What is it?
Fringe
This new hydrochronic shit a tribesman recommended, called Han N Abarbera.
Ziggy & Panda
Woh, that's cool.
Fringe takes a huge toke and the van slowly fills with smoke.
Fringe
Fancy a bit Spudsy mate?
Spud
None for me thanks pal.
Fringe
(taking another giant pull) Suit yourself.
The smoke continues to fill the van as Fringe passes the pipe to Panda who takes his tokes, who in turn gives it to Ziggy. Spud begins to curl up in a ball and get comfy in the back of the smokey van.
Fringe
I can't believe we got through most of our set this time.
Ziggy
Yeah dude, usually 2 or 3 tunes and we're out, haha.
Panda
Probably wasn't wise to play 'Highway to Hell' at a Bar Mitzvah.
Fringe and Ziggy nod along, Spud closes his eyes and falls asleep. Fade out.
Fade in. Spud awakes and a thick layer of smoke engulfs everything in the van making it impossible to see, he looks down to his hand, they feel different but he can't see them to be sure.
Spud
Can someone crack a window, I can't see a thing.
ZIGGY
(Winding down window) Sure dude.
As the smoke leaves the vehicle it forms a thick fog outside and inside, well inside looks like this:
Fringe
WOH! This shit's epic, wow.
Spud
What the fuck is going on, why do we look like this?
Fringe
Han N Abarbera, native drugs are awesome.
Ziggy and Panda smile along amazed by the 'legally distinct from Hanna Barbera' world.
A at once a comically loud bang is heard and the Local Leather tour bus halts completely.
Spud
Oh God, it's one thing after another.
Fringe
It's okay dude, just gotta ride it out.
All the lights on the dashboard flash frantically and then go off, Panda and Ziggy behave as though these are strobes at a rave, until they shut off.
Ziggy
Fucks sake, I was getting into that.
Panda
Lets get out and take a look then.
In sync the four band members get out and Panda opens bonnet of the van, as if on cue lightning strikes at that exact moment. under the hood it is clear that the engine has been bludgeoned with some kind of elaborate staff.
Panda
Right gang, we need to split up and search for clues.
Ziggy and Fringe nod along but Spud is left totally dumbfounded by this suggestion.
Spud
(Spud flales his arms and turns as he speaks) No way, are you fucking insane, wandering into the unknown without eachother, imagine the headline "Awesome British Band Murdered in Swamp".
As Spud turns back around the other members have disappeared, seemingly barely listening and having already split up.
Panda
(shouting from the distance) That's a crap headline mate.
As the rain falls Spud terrifiedly clings to the tour bus as lightning again strikes.
Spud
Nothing can get me if I'm here.
A stone flies from the nearby wooded area and hits Spud square on the head, knocking him out. Fade out.
Fade in.
EXT. EVIL FORREST - NIGHT
Spud awakes, no longer animated but in a bizarre low budget kids TV Style smoke filled forrest of evil.
Spud reacts like this:
Spud tentatively walks through the forest.
Spud
I'VE NEVER BEEN HERE BEFORE!
Spud walks to a nearby river to splash water on his face.
Spud
(As he dips his hand in) OUCH! IT'S NOT HOT! (for some reason he was expecting it to be)
Spud drops to his knees and looks up to the heavens.
Spud
WHY AM I SCREAMING EVERYTHING! WHAT IS THIS PLACE!
Evil Voice in the Distance
ROCKSTAR SPUD!!
Spud runs away from the voice. Spud runs past what looks to be "comedic" actress Leslie Jones smoking a cigarette.
BEAT
Spud runs for a solid 2 minutes in 1 direction but it's to no avail as the rules of the normal world do not apply here and once he stops running he's in the exact spot he started in.
Evil Voice in the Distance
You cannot escape that way, you rambunctious repugnant rocker, you puerile pipsqueak.
Spud stops in sudden realisation.
Spud
I KNOW YOU!
A deafening and awful screeching laugh drowns out all noise as Spud is cast 3 Shadows, 1 tiny and stumpy, 1 quite big and well built and 1 impossibly huge hulking shadow.
CUT TO.
EXT. LOCAL LEATHER TOUR BUS
They're still in the animated faze of their trip as they took more than Spud.
HANK (a mechanic) is fixing the car as Panda, Fringe and Ziggy watch on, Fringe has a can of petrol.
Hank
Good thing I was driving by for you boys eh.
Panda
You're telling me man, keep an eye out for our little friend would you.
Hank
Happens up here all the time, the fella in the cave captures people has his fun and they can usually make it to their jobs by roughly the following Tuesday morning.
Fringe
That's perfect, we'll just meet him after his match Tuesday then, gee thanks Hank.
Everyone
(Shares a weird laugh for no apparent reason.)
Hank
So who was it who smashed your van then?
Ziggy
Spuds will probably figure that out, we've got a week off!
The band all crowd and lovingly hug Hank.
FREEZE FRAME.
FADE OUT.
From a black screen a collection of bright circles suddenly appear as the Conan theme music plays.
Andy Richter
Coming to you from Warner Brothers studios in Burbank. ITS CONAN!
Tonight, from hit new show Hawaii Bone-0, Leslie Jones, Barron Boneius and Kolotov
Star of NBCs The Blacklist, James Spader
. And musical guest Lady Gaga
. Featuring Jimmy Vivino and the Basic Cable Band, I’m Andy Richer, and here’s Conan O’Brian!
Cut to the Conan studio. The camera pans over the audience then to Conan who walks on stage to mass applause. He does a little dance then takes centre stage.
Conan
Alright alright that’s enough of that. Jeez, you guys are energised tonight. You’re all up at like an 11 while the rest of us are down here at a 5. It’s a Monday come on!
Normally I’d segway this by saying, did you see this, but lets be honest, you’ve all already seen this.
Cut to a distant video of Donald Trump standing behind a podium as people around him set up cameras. A fly lands on the podium in front of him. Trump looks around then shoots his tongue out like a frog catching the fly and eating it.
Cut back to Conan's audience. An audible ‘EW’ comes from the audience.
Conan
Exactly. Yup, we are 21 hours into the week and our first headline is that the President is in fact a frog man. I tell you who I feel sorry for, the rest of the week, how do you top that. Oh sweetie you graduated, that’s great, BUT THE PRESIDENT IS A FROGMAN.
Crazy. We have a great show tonight, free of frogmen, as far as I know. So lets welcome on, the cast of Hawaii Bone-0.
The audience applauds as Leslie Jones, Barron Boneius (In a Hawaiian shirt with sunglasses and Kolotov walk onto the stage waving). Leslie looks past Conan to see James Spader shooting her a death stare. She looks confused but then sits down on the couch.
Conan
Welcome, none of you are frogmen are you?
The audience, and guests all laugh.
Conan
I think, and correct me if I’m wrong Andy, this is the first time we’ve had a skeleton on the couch.
Andy
Well unless you count the incident
Conan
(Playfully) I told you never to mention that
The audience laugh.
Conan
So I want to talk about your new show. Hawaii Bone-0, I’ve actually seen the first couple of episodes and wow. This show is wild. Boneius here, plays Detective Skull who works with Officer Jones played by Leslie here to try and solve a series of murders perpetrated by the villainous Kolotov, playing himself I believe. It’s weird, but it’s great.
Leslie Jones
Oh it’s weird! But I tell you something, this is easily the most fun I’ve had on a set.
Conan
I’m not surprised, I do want to ask the Barron, how this was for you. First acting job, and it’s playing a lead character in a major new show, you’ve gotta have some agent right.
Boneius laughs.
Barron Boneius
Those hilarious Hollywood hacks hunted me down and begged me to be a part of the show. For I, the cesspool of cruelly Barron Boneius, need no agent.
Kolotov
They actually came and spoke to all of us after the match.
Conan
I'm glad you brought this up, because we have to talk about the wrestling. That last fight blew up.
Andy Ritcher
It wasn’t the only thing (Pointing to Kolotov)
Everyone laughs raucously.
Conan
Even through you guys are meant to be the bad guys, people love you. Look at this.
Cut to outside the Conan studio, people are dressed up as Boneius and Kolotov cheering.
Conan
They’ve been here all week, it’s like I’m stuck In some Halloween groundhog day.
Boneius smiles and waves down the camera. The crowd outside are heard whooping.
Conan
Leslie! You never mentioned you were a wrestler!
Leslie flexes her guns.
Andy Ritcher
Stronger than Ghostbusters that’s for sure.
The audience all give an awkward laugh. Leslie does not look amused.
Conan
I don’t wanna spoil the magic, but it’s staged right. I mean, no offense, but you aren’t that strong.
Andy Ritcher
Yeah, like Ghostbus-
In a flash Leslie has Andy lifted above her by the throat.
Leslie Jones
Finish that sentence, I dare you.
Suddenly a small bit of golden metal flies in from the side colliding with her hand causing her to drop Andy. Everyone looks to see who threw it, it’s James Spader. Leslie especially looks confused. Slowly she looks at the bit of metal. It’s a police badge that reads “The Shield”
Leslie Jones
No
James Spader pulls off his mask to reveal. Michael Chiklis.
Michael Chikils
I’ve waited a long time for this Jones.
Leslie Jones
You couldn’t beat me in the ring and you sure as hell can’t beat me here.
Michael Chiklis
We’ll see
Boneius and Kolotov get up of the sofa and jump into a fighting stance.
Barron Boneius
Lets smash this shield.
Leslie Jones
No, you need to go back to the cave and get ready for tonight. I’ll hold him off.
Boneius and Kolotov leave the stage in a hurry. Leslie and Chiklis lock eyes.
Fade into a black and white flashback.
Micheal Chicklis and a PA are stood in the SNL greenroom, Chiklis in a hilarious chicken costume with a massive grin on his face. He’s watching the show live on a monitor. The sketch on at the moment involves Leslie Jones. Both men are laughing at the sketch. Chiklis checks his watch, he looks excited.
PA
Ready to go Mr Chiklis?
Chiklis nods. They both remain still, watching the current sketch. Chiklis checks his watch again. The PA notices
PA
Don’t worry, things always run a little over.
The sketch on screen continues. The majority of the sketch being Leslie Jones. Chiklis starts to look nervous.
PA
She’s just riffing, they do this all the time, should be over any moment.
The sketch continues and the audience continue laughing. Chiklis starts to clench his fists. Leslie continues to riff. The PA reacts to hearing something in his ear.
PA
I’m so sorry Mr –
Michael Chiklis
(Trying his best to hold in his rage) No, don’t you dare.
PA
Your sketch has been cut for time
Chiklis rips of his goofy chicken head and throws it across the room.
PA
This happens all the time, we really are all so sorry. But we’ll make sure to get you on again another show ok.
The PA leaves the room. Chiklis, full of rage, looks up to the TV to see Leslie Jones, still riffing away. He lets out a deep yell.
Fade back to the set of Conan as Chiklis stands face to face with Leslie.
Michael Chiklis
That was 6 years ago.
Leslie Jones
I don’t do the booki-
Michael Chiklis
6 years I waited! My one chance to be on SNL and you took it from me. We people of colour have to stick together!
The audience lets out an audible gasp.
Leslie Jones
What?!
Michael Chiklis
The Thing is orange.
The audience looks confused. Some nodding in approval others just looking more confused. Chiklis takes this moment to punch Leslie. Sending her flying out of the studio onto a nearby rooftop construction site. In one leap he jumps from the studio over to the site.
Michael Chiklis
I was bred to be a comedian Leslie. Trained my entire life to master my timing. Where did you train, CHAPMAN UNIVERSITY!?
Chiklis tenses then rips of the rest of the James Spader outfit revealing his ‘The Thing’ Costume under it as he starts to float in the air.
This entire fight scene plays out with Leslie as Superman and Chiklis as Zod. The two fight through the city and space until they crash into a train station.
The station is almost abandoned. Before Chiklis can fully get up Leslie gets him in a choke hold. Across from them stands Pete Davidson, Kenan Thompson and Cecily Strong. Chiklis notices the group are cornered.
Michael Chiklis
If you love SNL so much, you can mourn for it.
Chiklis starts blasting his laser eyes at the group, hitting the wall beside them but quickly advancing on them.
Leslie Jones
DON’T DO THIS.
Chiklis continues straining as the laser gets closer.
Leslie Jones
STOP.
The laser is centimetres from the cast.
Leslie Jones
STOOOP.
Michael Chiklis
Never
The laser brushes against the side of Kenan, cutting cleanly through his jacket. They all hold each other close, preparing for the end. Leslie, with tears in her eyes, realises the only way she can keep them safe.
Leslie snaps Chiklis’s neck.
His body drops to the floor. There’s a long pause before she lets out a blood curdling scream. Cecily walks up to her and places a hand on her shoulder. Leslie stands, brushing the hand away.
Cecily Strong
We won’t tell anyone.
Leslie Jones
Maybe you should.
Leslie leaps away.
Back at the forest Leslie is leaning against a tree. Her hands shaking. She takes out a cigarette. Looks at it for a long moment before lighting it and taking a puff. She hardly notices Rockstar Spud run past her.
Cut to the three SNL cast members walking through the streets. The city is in chaos, people running in fear, buildings destroyed. As they move down the street a van pulls up beside them.
Driver
Dangerous to be walking around at a time like this. Here, let me offer you a ride.
Cecily nods and the three climb into the van. The van starts down the road into the distance, but not before a familiar white gloved hand reaches out from the drivers side window and pats the top of the van.
Cut to the outside of Conan's studio in Burbank. Barron Boneius (Dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses) and Kolotov run out of the side door. As they emerge there's a loud crashing sound as Leslie Jones flies out the side of the studio into the distance. Quickly followed by Michael Chiklis.
The two run over to two parked black cars. Each getting into a different car. As soon as they sit down the cars start moving.
The Barron’s car is being driven by Snivley in a little drivers uniform, hat and all.
Snivley
How was the show master?
Barron Boneius
Silence you dodgy dimwit, where’s my latte?!
Snivley gestures to a coffee in the back seat. Boneius takes one swig then immediately hurls it out the window.
Barron Boneius
ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME YOU PRIMITIVE PIG! SERVE ME COFFEE THAT HOT AGAIN AND I’LL BOIL YOU IN IT.
The coffee flies out the window and straight into the front of Kolotov’s car, being driven by Alaric. The two are sat in silence but as the coffee hits, Alaric jerks in anger.
Alaric
BASTARD!
The two continue to sit in silence. Kolotov shifts uncomfortably.
Kolotov
The show went well
Alaric
Shut up
Another long pause.
Kolotov
I spoke to the producer about getting you on the show again. There’s this part in episode 8, you’d play this chef who gets killed, it's not big but –
Alaric
I said, shut up.
Alaric looks furious.
Alaric
(To himself) This is bullshit.
Cut to the dark forest. Both cars move down a faint forest track. Eventually arriving at the Barron’s cave. Boneius hops out of his car, pulls out his phone to check the time then rushes into the cave.
Kolotov and Alaric hop out of the car. Alaric immediately storms off into the forest. As Alaric gets deeper into the forest he starts to hear voices. Suddenly the figure of Rockstar Spud appears in the distance. Alaric looks panicked. He sees a near by stone and lobs it at the rockstar, knocking him unconscious.
Back at the cave Boneius emerges in a nice shirt with a bouquet of roses. Snivley looks away from him, unable to look at him. Kolotov shoots Boneius a thumbs up. Suddenly Alaric runs into the clearing. He runs up to his brother and tries to speak only to him.
Alaric
Brother, your next opponent, the “musician” he’s here.
Despite trying to keep his voice low Boneius has heard everything.
Barron Boneius
WHAT?!
Alaric looks annoyed at being heard
Alaric
I…I wanted to help, so, earlier, I bashed his engine up a little. Thought maybe they’d miss the match, I didn’t expect them to get stranded here.
Barron Boneius
You delusional driver! Did you at least deal with him!?
Alaric
I threw a stone at him. I think I knocked him out.
Barron Boneius
YOU DIDN’T CHECK?
Snivley
Even I know that’s stupid
Kolotov looks at his brother. Alaric looks at him expecting him to come to his aid.
Kolotov
(Nervous, trying to move the conversation on) We can all go check, now, make sure.
Boneius, Snivley and Kolotov start to walk into the forest. Alaric starts to follow.
Barron Boneius
Stay here you mushy moron. You’ve done enough.
The three walk into the forest. Leaving Alaric looking furious.
Excerpt from Rockstar Spud
Spud tentatively walks through the forest.
Spud
I'VE NEVER BEEN HERE BEFORE!
Spud walks to a nearby river to splash water on his face.
Spud
(As he dips his hand in) OUCH! IT'S NOT HOT! (for some reason he was expecting it to be)
Spud drops to his knees and looks up to the heavens.
Spud
WHY AM I SCREAMING EVERYTHING! WHAT IS THIS PLACE!
Evil Voice in the Distance
ROCKSTAR SPUD!!
Spud runs away from the voice. Spud runs past what looks to be "comedic" actress Leslie Jones smoking a cigarette.
BEAT
Spud runs for a solid 2 minutes in 1 direction but it's to no avail as the rules of the normal world do not apply here and once he stops running he's in the exact spot he started in.
Evil Voice in the Distance
You cannot escape that way, you rambunctious repugnant rocker, you puerile pipsqueak.
Spud stops in sudden realisation.
Spud
I KNOW YOU!
A deafening and awful screeching laugh drowns out all noise as Spud is cast 3 Shadows, 1 tiny and stumpy, 1 quite big and well built and 1 impossibly huge hulking shadow.
End of excerpt
Before Spud can say another word another rock flies from the shadows and hits him in the head.
Spud
HEY!
He can hear the three figures mumbling in the distance.
Barron Boneius
Snivley you nut. The rock clearly didn’t work the first time.
Snivley
I just wanted to help.
Barron Boneius
Well don’t.
The three figures get back to looking ominous.
Spud
LOOK MATE, JUST SHOW ME OUT AND I’M GONE, HONEST.
Barron Boneius
No chance you vile vocalist, we’re going to bone you all week.
He lets out an evil cackle. But is interrupted as Leslie Jones, looking glum and smoking steps between them.
Leslie Jones
Uh, Uh. You’re going on your date Boneius. I swear to god if you stand Annie up, hell if you upset her. I’ll be boning you for a lot longer than a week.
Spud notices his moment and start to run away. Boneius clearly wants to give chase but Leslie shoots him a look.
Barron Bonieus
Fine. Snivley, Kolotov, crush that limey louse. Make sure he doesn’t arrive to the match in one piece.
Snivley
But master, who will drive you?
Barron Boneius
I’ll get the other one, Alex? Angus?
With that Boneius runs back to the cave.
Cut to Spud speeding through the forest. The loud hulking footsteps of Kolotov can be heard advancing on him. Spud stops and hides behind a tree, catching his breath. Kolotov comes into view in the distance.
Kolotov
We can’t let you leave know you know where our hideout is. This is kinda your fault.
Spud
Mate, I don’t have a fucking clue where I am.
As he says this he starts climbing up the tree. Kolotov pauses.
Kolotov
Oh, well maybe we can work something out then. Because I’m sure the boss –
Suddenly Spud drops down onto him. Wrapping one arm around his neck, using the other to punch his face. Kolotov screams and stumbles around for a few seconds, before throwing himself backwards into a tree. This knocks Spud loose and to the ground.
Kolotov hops up, grabs a large rock and with both hands swings it down. Spud manages to roll out of the way just in time.
Spud gets up and starts running. Kolotov follows behind closing in on him. Just as he’s about to grab him Spud throws himself to the ground in a ball. The full force of Kolotovs foot collides with his chest. He lets out a loud groan as the sound of rib breaking is heard. The impact is more than enough however to trip Kolotov, sending him flying face forward into a tree. His body goes limp.
Spud slowly gets up, holding his chest and starts walking. Eventually he reaches a long dirt road. He sits down for a moment and starts looking for any passing cars. In the distance, Snivley watches on. He wrings his hands and giggles to himself.
Cut to, two EMT’s in the back of an ambulance. In between them is the zipped up body bag containing Michael Chiklis. Both look soured and devoid of any energy.
EMT 1
They know who did this?
EMT 2
Nah, no one got a good look, and apparently the security footage is missing.
EMT 1
Shit man.
EMT 2
Yeah
Pause
EMT 1
You see the match?
The two men burst into life, smiling and energetic.
EMT 2
Dude, when Ruxx got in the truck!
EMT 1
The baton! God I love the Barron man.
EMT 2
Who’s the Bone dude up against this week?
EMT 1
Spud and some other guy, a pilot.
EMT 2
The guy that did 9/11.
EMT 1
Probably.
EMT 2
He’s kinda D list ain’t he, not really big leagues?
EMT 1
Yeah, he’s just kind of filler, a back ups backup. Really weird with the crowds to, honestly think he's a bit shit.
The ambulance stops abruptly. The two men look at each other confused.
EMT 1
(To the driver) Hey man what’s going on?
The ambulance doors open to reveal Warble Wizard stood outside. The two men look at him stunned. Warble Wizard looks at the two men. He looks genuinely upset. He takes a deep breath then raises his arms.
Warble Wizard
Forgive me
His hands start to glow. From the outside of the ambulance we see the vehicle shake and hear the two EMT’s brief screams before the light dies, silence returns and Warble Wizard gets into the drivers seat and drives the ambulance away.
Cut.
Spud is still standing beside the road, thumb outstretched, hoping for anyone to come and get him away from this place. a few meters away hidden in a bush Snivley stares on.
Spud to make the slow, laboured, desperate, walk up the road. Snivley thinking fast uproots the bush he's hid in so he can remain hidden in it and move along with Spud so that he doesn't lose him. Spud checks if he's still being followed for a moment, to his knowledge he's not and continues to walk, whilst Snivleys bush also shuffles along in the background.
From his vantage point Snivley sees a pick up truck teaming towards Spud. Spuds sad visage becomes illuminated by the trucks headlights, Spud wantingly throws his thumb out hoping for them to stop, the car slows Spud panic turns to joy as it does. The cars window rolls down and a bare arse pops out of it.
Driver 1
Go fuck yourself, midget.
The truck speeds past spud, scooping snow from the ground with its wheels and slinging it at Spud.
BEAT
Spud looks to the sky and inhales deeply. Spuds shakes all of the snow from his body and repeats his desperate walk but now he's shivering and watching the truck speed away, the Truck has a confederate flag on the back.
Snivley
Ah, the racists always were servants of evil.
Snivley looks down the road and now see's an enormous, hulking, 18 wheeler truck.
Snivley
Oh God, no, for all that is evil don't let it be, no no no no.
Spud is blinded by the high beams of the gigantic beast of a vehicle, as he squints and adjust he begins to flail his arms in an attempt to flag the truck down. With a huge screech and a hiss truck stops. A voice calls out from the mammoth vehicle.
Trucker
WHERE YOU HEADED STRANGER?
Snivley sprints out of his bush on towards to Truck in his desperate dash he trips on a tree root and rolls uncontrollably down the hill, gathering some serious momentum as he does. Spud almost matrix-like anticipates Snivley behind him and ducks as Snivley takes the curb like a ramp and flies up and directly into the side of a gigantic truck. There is a Snivley shaped dent in the vehicle as his body slowly peels from its place on the side.
Trucker
The fuck is that thing.
Snively is passed out on the floor.
Spud
Erm, yeah can you get me to Washington, I've got a show there in a few days?
Trucker
I can get you about halfway, will that do?
Snivley stirs slightly.
Spud
(Gulps) Yep.
The door swings open and Spud leaps into the cab of the huge truck and shuts it behind him. The truck drives onward leaving Snivley in a seriously big pile of exhaust smoke.
A FEW HOURS LATER
The other members of Local Leather are stood outside the tour bus over the laid out body of Snivley.
Ziggy
Is it like a really fat lizard?
Panda
Nah, mate, I swear I seen a documentary once, shaved badger, that's what they look like.
Fringe
Whatever it is, it's dead now, poor thing, should we bury it?
Each band member begins to mound snow up towards the unconscious body of Snivley. Snivley starts slowly waking up.
Snivley
(muttered sleep talk) No master, not too high on the swings.
The band members all look in total and complete shock as Snivley slowly stands up, the snow mounds falling down, Snivley is yet still buried to his knees.
Fringe
I think it's alive actually.
Snivley
(mutters) Evil foiled again by the blasted Ice Road Truckers.
Snively assess the men stood before him.
Snivley
Who goes there, you, you, you, in, in, insidious, intrepid, the master is so much better at these than I.
Ziggy
Looks like I was right mate, Badgers definitely can't talk.
Panda
Neither can Lizards.
Ziggy
Never seen Rango?
Snivley looks over and see's the unmistakeable Transit Van with the words Local Leather on the side. A lightbulb appears above his head, this is a part of the lingering affect of the drugs the band have been on.
Snivley
You are the excellent rock band Local Leather.
The band quickly perk up, each caging the giddy excitement at having a fan.
Snivley
I am a your number 1 fan, can you take me to Washington?
The band take a quick huddle.
Ziggy
This is the greatest moment in the history of the band, what do we do?
Panda
Give him a ride obviously.
Fringe]
What if we can't trust him?
Ziggy
Alright we'll leave him.
The huddle breaks and Snivley stands longingly, giving the group the puppy dog eyes, the band try to avoid looking but it's too damn grotesque and cute at the same time. Panda looks at Fringe, giving him a 'can we' look, Fringe rolls his eyes and nods slightly.
Panda
Anything for our number 1 fan! Spud’s next match is there anyway, that's where we were going.
Snivley
WOOHOO.
The 4 men all giddily pile into the cramped Local Leather tour bus.
Snivley
This makes the cave feel homey.
Panda
You say something little dude.
Snivley
I said , thank you gracious hosts.
The band members smile.
CUT TO SPUD.
At a gas station Spud hops out of the Truck, he looks decidedly happier and a great deal healthier than when he got in, he's clearly been treated very well.
Trucker
Sorry Rockstar Spud, this is as far as I can take you, safe travels my friend, I'll be cheering for you.
Spud
I'll never forget what you did for me.
The truck pulls out and slowly chugs away, Spud waves on, grin on his face.
SPUD sits on a nearby sign and waits for vehicles to pass.
CUT TO LOCAL LEATHER AND SNIVLEY
The tour bus is parked up and Panda and Ziggy are fast asleep in the front, Fringe is sat on the drum stool facing Snivley who is stood on a pile of cables.
Snivley
And then we locked Big Snivley in a dungeon.
Fringe takes a massive pull
Fringe
Holy shit, little dude, that's awesome. So you and your boss are really close then?
Snivley
(Wells up) We used to be, when it was just he and I. He'd call me blithering boob and I'd help him conquer all the doo gooders of Foreverton but now we're in Canada, there are others and he doesn't like to do evil with me as much as them, Fringe tell me something, am I evil?
Fringe
The evilest.
Snivley
Eviler than Leslie Jones?
Fringe
Maybe not that evil but you're close buddy, almost as evil as Leslie Jones ain't bad. Here (passing the pipe).
Snivley
(Pondering the pipe) I've never done drugs before.... But they are evil? Hmmmmm.
Fringe
Be pretty evil and cool if you did.
Snivley
I would very much like to be evil and cool at the same time.
Snivley takes a gigantic toke of the Han N Abarbera pipe, lies back and falls asleep.
CUT TO SPUD
Spud has clearly been sat in the same spot for a couple of days, he has a dirty stubble. Spud looks dejected, sad, ready to give up.
He stands and turns around, in the distance he see's what can only be described as the most suited up, pimped out, fucking awesome bin wagon you ever did see. Stood atop is the gigantic figure of Big Homunculus surfing the wagon like Teen Wolf.
Spud jumps for absolute joy. Big Homunculus sees Spud, and reaches his long arm from atop the wagon into the cab, grabbing a megaphone from between Clyde and Ruxx, both staring forward sunglasses on. Ruxx doesn't even need to look at the road as cars part, lights change colours and pedestrians turn into cash upon impact with the vehicular manifestation of that dream Martin Luther King Jr had.
Big Homunculus
(On Megaphone) Hope you like Sensual Music giant man.
CUT TO SNIVLEY AND LOCAL LEATHER
Snivley wakes up propped up at the back of the tour, he looks forward and Local Leather looks different. Snivley feels different.
Panda
We're here pal, hope you had a nice lift. Say hi to Spud in the match from us.
Snivley
I'm never doing drugs again
Fade out.
Fade back into the backstage area of the arena, yet we’ve not escaped from the alternate plane. José Figueiras puts a José Figueiras mask on Roderick Kross
José Figueiras
We are one.
Roderick Kross goes on to wrestle as José Figueiras for the night.
José Figueiras
Saf
Cut to the ring, where Mark Beverly is in the center.
Mark Beverly: The following contest is the first-hour main event of the evening, a tornado team match scheduled for one fall! In this match, each participant may remain in the ring at all times, as there is a count out as well as disqualifications!
YODELEELELEEUIRGDFBJVKMXC,
José Figueiras comes out, very obviously angry. Honestly more angry than Bin Laden when he found out the twin towers were slightly different. He gets to the ring very fast. Very fast. Not like Roman Reigns fast but very fast. Like, thing is, you can only go so fast. Steve Macmichael. Lance Storm has a massive orgasm. For once, Christian responds.
Christian Cage: Did you just have a moderate orgasm?
Lance Storm: No.
After an absolutely COLLOSSAL entrance that drove absolutely everyone in the world fucking insane José Figueiras produces a mic from his ass pocket and speaks into it.
José Figueiras
Hi.
Everyone in the crowd dies and don't believe the bullshit Bret Hart tells you, they actually died. He's gonna write some shit about how the crowd is going wild but they;re actually dead. José Figueiras FINALLY gets to the ring after shimmying down to it, taking up 90 minutes out of the whole 120 hour show or whatever it is.
Christian Cage: Oh my god Lance Storm are you okay
Lance Storm doesn't reply because he is dead.
José Figueiras
I am not happy.
The remaining living members of the crowd ask in unison:
The Crowd:
WHY NOT, JOSÉ FIGUEIRAS?
José Figueiras answers.
José Figueiras: Because.
The crowd goes fucking insane at the absolutely great joke.
José Figueiras: Nah I'm JAY KAY
Everything goes back to normal, including the formatting.
José Figueiras
I came.
José pauses.
José Pauses.
Jóse PaAUses.
JOSE pauses.
jose PAUSESL
José Figueiras
As I was saying, I came to this show for one reason and one reason alone; For starters, I wanted you all to see how quietly I could talk before even getting to the point. And secondly, I wanted to address the situation that is taking place right now in this moment, temporarily.
José Figueiras gets obviously ridiculously red in the face because he is very ANGRY
José Figueiras
I don't think it's okay for Bret Hart to completely disallow me from bringing Martin Luther King back from the dead.
The crowd doesn't boo or cheer because they have all deceased.
José Figueiras
I don't think it's okay for Bret Hart to completely disallow me from bringing Martin Luther King back from the dead.
The crowd now cheers, even though they have all deceased. José Figueiras seems moderately pleased by the reaction. Not enough to win the match obviously, but enough to change the Font Face.
José Figueiras
Alright then. This isn't something I was going to or wanted to bring up, but we are in a world of truth. And I am all for the truth.
The dead crowd doesn't react because everyone is dead.
José Figueiras
And the truth is I am angry.
José Figueiras
José Figueiras
I am angry for two reasons. Two very obvious reasons:
Reason number ONE (1): Martin Luther King was great.
Reason number TWO (2): Rockstar Spud is a midget.
Macias comes out and he gets killed by Bin Laden who was actually alive all along. RKO out of nowhere from JOSÉ FIGUEIRAS, Bin Laden dies.
The confusion suddenly stops when a wild Snivley appears from nowhere to strike the newly midget-ed Roderick Kross-posing-as-José-Figueiras from behind, sending the little fucker through the second and third ropes. The crowd comes from whatever trance Figueiras set them in for their pulses to stop temporarily and begin roaring along like nothing happened. Bret Hart can’t wait for the class-action lawsuit incoming.
Outside of the ring, Snivley has chased the man finally his size -- so he picks his fight, finding the bent steel pipe that’s already caused so much drama from ringside and walloping and rising Roderick Figueiras over the dome! The steel pipe keeps coming down with seemingly no end on the little body before the camera cuts to show fans rising as Rockstar Spud in a full-speed sprint to the ordeal!
Snivley, as usual, goes flying like a World Cup winning soccer ball after Spud’s front-toed punt, spiraling like an American football until he hits the cement floor between crowd seating sections!
Nearly as incredulous as Christian has been all night, the Rockstar soon accepts the situation he’s in, grabbing his dwarf partner and rolling his little body into the ring. Before he can enter himself, he turns to be met with a silver revolver in his face! Immediately, he shoots his hands up and looks past the gun to see its handler - the freshly casted Barron Boneius in a bright yellow Hawaiian shirt, Kolotov just behind holding the Bone Batton sinisterly in his right hand.
Cut to the commentary booth: an incredulous Christian.
Cut back. Rockstar Spud is pleading! Begging!
Barron Boneius: To your knees, if you care for your life, you redundant rockstar reject!
Spud seems to have no choice at this moment as the crowd watches on with mouths covered and fearful murmurs. The Barron presses the cold muzzle against Spud’s cold forehead before backing away just slightly, his aim steady. In an almost flawless impersonation, he becomes Dirty Harry.
Spud has so far done better than Vince McMahon did with a gun in his face, but his lip tremble suggests not for long. At that moment -
The trigger is pulled.
*BANG*
The red and white flag pops out to the crowd’s roar of boos at being scared. Kolotov and the Barron take to laughs that come from the gut, bellowing and proud of their successful prank. Spud, realizing, lowers his hands. Boneius notices his changing demeanour, swinging with the butt of the prop gun, only to be ducked and Kolotov suddenly overtaken with a crossbody! The Barron turns around to a Pele kick, the force popping him on top of the apron!
Similar to Orange Cassidy in the impromptu opener, Spud is on top of the barricade, but his descending off it lands an elbow in the heart of the Barron, both bodies fall back to the mat afterwards!
Kolotov is back up as Roderick Figueiras attempts a rope-rebounded suicide dive, just to be caught and tossed right back into the ring, and followed.
Cut to Spud getting himself up.
Cut to Kolotov playing Roderick’s head like Aaron Judge with the Bone Batton.
Cut to Spud pulling Barron to his feet.
Cut to referee Sandra Yandel reprimanding Kolotov, despite the match not having started yet. Barron has been rolled in and Spud is just behind him.
Ding!
Kolotov gets hit with a dropkick from Spud before he can do anything, then gets downed with a clothesline from Barron originally intended for Rockstar who ducked. The batton rolls out of the ring as Boneius reverses an Irish whip into his own, sending Spud into the corner. The Barron is after him, until two knees drop him back. He rolls over and up on his shoulders as Spud flips back to the top rope - and he’s off!
The Barron jumps and hits a dropkick in the gut of Spud’s descending body! Spud finds himself rolling around the ring, his hands gripping at where the kick landed. Kolotov is stood on the middle rope now, waiting for the right moment to drive his knee down into the same spot! He allows for his master to attempt the cover.
Sandra Yandel: ONE!.............
TWO!........
KICKOUT
Roderick Figueiras stirs again, but Barron punts him like everyone has done Snivley for weeks, sending the little shit through the ropes and onto the arena floor!
Sandra Yandel: ONE!
Barron Boneius: HAHAHA! What will you do now?! As your puny petulant partner ponders the pebbles - what will you do?!
The two men close in on Rockstar Spud as he attempts to make it to his knees.
Sandra Yandel: TWO!
Just before they can do anything, from his knees he hops to his feet then into a double dropkick that sends them back toward the ropes!
Sandra Yandel: THREE!
In a similar crossbody as to earlier, he sprints and sends all three men up-and-over the top rope to the outside with it!
Sandra Yandel: ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Finally, Spud is stirring, just as the Barron is - the smaller man thinking smartly, pushing the other back into the unsteady steel steps (thanks to the ordeal from before).
Sandra Yandel: FIVE!
The back of the Barron’s head seems to collide awkwardly with the edge of the steps, slumping him over afterwards. Kolotov rises to the strikes of Rockstar Spud, before shooing him off and leveling him with a discus clothesline, the force behind which drops both to the ground.
Sandra Yandel: SEVEN!
Kolotov is stirring, perhaps the only one hearing the numbers by this point.
Sandra Yandel: EIGHT!
He’s on his feet and ready to get -- wait a fan’s grabbing him by the shoulder and turned him around!
Sandra Yandel: NINE!
It’s not a fan at all! It’s José Figueiras! The real one! All he does, hands now pocketed, is give Kolotov his classic grin, before an overdramatic right eye wink.
Sandra Yandel: TEN!
DING DING DING
Kolotov immediately turns to Sandra Yandel, screaming objections. He turns to confront Figueiras’ who has thought ahead, ready to grab the vampire’s head and slam it down on the barricade! The blow sends Kolotov back to the floor as Figueiras retreats into the crowd, that parts for him like the Red Sea because he’s José Figueiras.
José Figueiras & Rockstar Spud vs. Barron Boneius & Kolotov Dracislav ends in a DRAW via countout in 5:56
We move down a backstage corridor, seen through the lens of a grainy digital camera - handheld by possibly an amateur filmmaker or journalist. We hear laboured breathing as the cameraperson scuttles along the hall, desperate not to be noticed. Every so often the camera turns to the side, examining the names on each dressing room door, but the camera owner isn't satisfied with any of them.
Gradually, we hear a muffled guitar riff from further down the corridor. The cameraperson picks up their pace, following the sound as it becomes more prominent.
At last the camera and its owner reaches the right door. By now the guitar riff is recognisable as that of the Ghost song "Danse Macabre":
Sure enough, in place of the usual name on the dressing room door is a crudely painted symbol depicting a solar eclipse.
This is all the evidence the cameraperson needs. Their free hand emerges into frame - it's scrawny, acne-scarred, likely belonging to a teenage boy - and knocks on the door.
Immediately the door swings open, revealing Eclipse in full costume. The room behind her is shrouded in darkness. The only items close enough to the corridor to be visible are a cheap stereo blasting the aforementioned Ghost song, and a punching bag dangling by a rusty chain from the ceiling.
Eclipse's piercing eyes glare at the camera, then scan its owner up and down. She speaks in a hoarse, growling whisper.
Eclipse
Who are you?
Finally the cameraperson speaks up. Sure enough, the voice is anxious, male, and cracking with every other syllable.
Kenny
Oh boy, uh... Eclipse, it's s-so cool to meet you, I'm your biggest fan. M-my name's Kenny.
Eclipse
Fine. What do you want?
Kenny
Well, uh... I-I-I'm s-starting a vlog series, y'see, dedicated to my favourite wrestlers. Which at the minute is just you, of course. I s-snuck backstage to see you and I was wondering if you had time for a quick interview...?
Even with much of her face covered, the derision in Eclipse's expression is very clear.
Eclipse
Okay. I'll be as gentle as I can, which is more than a little weasel like you deserves.
Kenny
I agree, Eclipse. You're more p-powerful than I could ever hope t-
Eclipse
Please shut up. You want your interview, you little creep? Here it is.
Without warning, Eclipse reaches out and snatches the camera. Kenny briefly whines in protest, but shuts up quickly. Eclipse brings the camera uncomfortably close to her face and glares down the lens.
Eclipse
This kid's pathetic, but he's not wrong. None of you have witnessed the true power of your She-borg Queen yet. And trust me when I say none of you are ready for it. The Gauntlet match is mine and you'd all do well to get out of my way. Some of you are still preoccupied with unimportant things like who I was; where I've come from; if I have anyone else in my life. Like this adolescent embarrassment Kenny here. Hoping to catch me backstage and find out some new information to incriminate me.
Eclipse pauses for breath. Kenny coughs awkwardly.
Eclipse
But none of you understand me, not really. Because I don't want you to. I don't need you to. I need you all to respect, admire and fear me. Because my reign's still coming, and nobody's going to stop me. Not Big Homunculus, not Max Ironside, not Laci Valentine... none of you. At present, my realm is confined to a humble dressing room. But soon my empire will rise as I take you all down. And all who are left will kneel before the She-borg Queen.
On that bombshell, Eclipse takes the camera in one hand, raising it over her shoulder. We fleetingly see the spotty, bespectacled Kenny standing limply in the corridor before she throws the camera with all her might at the opposite wall.
Kenny
No!! My ca-
Kenny's yell is cut off in its prime as the camera crunches against the wall. The picture crackles and cuts out.
Interview over, evidently. And too, the alternate plane of existence. The last commercial in this special begins.
We return to security camera footage.
Laci had been bothered all week by the news of someone squatting at the old Olympia Gym. It felt so disrespectful to Laci. Even though the Fischer's had done everything in their power to secure the locks, the security camera was still picking up the woman coming in and out. She decided to take matters into her own hands. So she pulled Lucy out of bed at two am, much to the woman's chagrin to come with her.
Laci Valentine
You're a night owl though…
Laci argued as she slipped the key into the front door lock carefully.
The blonde in her grey hoodie yawns loudly.
Lucy Richards
Yeah but dude, it's my night off…
Laci spins on her friend.
Laci Valentine
We need to catch this chick and make her leave. If she needs help we'll get her to a shelter, no one should be taking advantage of the Fischer's.
She then turns back and pushes the door open, slipping inside with only the light from her cell phone to guide her.
Lucy Richards
This has bad idea written all over it, Lace. Spooky old place at night? Don't you ever watch horror movies? Neither of us are virgins so we're not safe.
Lucy shudders at the way the whole place echoes.
Laci Valentine
Oh please. Don't be a chicken shit.
Although if Laci were being honest, she'd agree with Lucy about it being creepy.
Laci Valentine
We gotta fix this. They lost out on a sale the other day because of this chick.
Laci hated the idea of Olympia being something else but the facts were there, the patriarch, Tommy Fischer hadn't been teaching since his stroke and the other boys wanted to move on to other passions. The only branch left was in Las Vegas with Bliss, but even that was suffering low enrollment and Jerry had told her Bliss was considering closing up and moving back to New York too. It made Laci sad.
Lucy Richards
Okay, okay. We'll kick this chick out for your friends sake. Geeze, you didn't have to get all sentimental.
Lucy rolls her eyes and forges forward, Laci trailing closely behind her.
Lucy Richards
Are you still bothered by that Spud guy? You know he's one of those boys in high school that get zero action because they have zero idea what to say?
Luci sighs, stopping in place. Her hands go to her hips.
Laci Valentine
What is it with people in this company taking one thing I say and blowing it up to mean way more than it does? And what the fuck, glass house? Why? Am I a Mama's boy in a shitty band? That reference is for someone who is criticizing someone for something they themselves are afflicted with. Obviously only one of us is 'afflicted' with the inability to use an analogy probably.
Lucy chuckles.
Laci Valentine
(mocking) I put food on two tables…Why? Does your mom have two tables? God damn. Like if you're going to clap back at me at least say something about me that is relevant. Like it's not hard to read a fucking bio! Watch a promo!
Lucy comes back to put a hand on Laci's shoulder.
Lucy Richards
Seems that people know how to get to you, even if he didn't do it intentionally. You hate ignorance. And everyone is ignorant. He's just mad you aren't falling all over yourself in admiration for him. Obviously a couple wins has given him a big head. He may have gotten the better of you Lace, but he's not going to get by that Raging Ned guy in your stable. Spud's luck is about to run out.
These words don't offer the red head any solace though.
Laci Valentine
Ex-Stable mate and It's Dead actually. He couldn't get dibs on that twitter handle…
She trails off.
Lucy Richards
What happened?
Laci shrugs but it's hard to see in the dark.
Laci Valentine
I'm not the type to just go out and beat someone innocent and attacking Sydney was wrong. I feel terrible about it and I plan on making a public apology once she returns.
Lucy gives her friend a compassionate smile.
Lucy Richards
At least, you saw this before you went all helter skelter…
Laci rolls her eyes but she is back toher original thoughts before the obvious distraction her friend had used.
Laci Valentine
I should have beaten him.
She said it in a quiet, defeated voice.
Lucy Richards
Your career is just beginning, this won't be the only chance you get at a championship.
Laci rolls her eyes in the dark. She was too focused on finding this chick, so the self-deprecating would have to wait for another day. They continue walking. They get to the men's locker room, where the debris had been found before.
Lucy Richards
You really think she's going to go right back to the place we're expecting her to be?
Lucy seems skeptical.
Laci Valentine
It's a start.
Fact was, Laci did not want to venture into the basement storage area even if that was probably where she was getting inside, but if she was going to catch this person unaware it had to be late.
They enter and it echoes. All the actual metal lockers had been removed leaving bare walls in rows. Like skeletons in a graveyard. The tap at the back drips and although it wasn't actually a loud sound, in the dark, silent area it feels deafening.
Laci Valentine
(whispering) She was near the urinals…
Lucy Richards
Ewww…
Laci Valentine
Maybe she's a chick with a dick…
Laci shrugs.
Laci Valentine
I have nothing against those that are gender fluid.
Lucy Richards
What does it matter? It's gross to sleep by any kind of toilet, whether you're a dude or a chick.
The two women continue to argue in whispered tones when out of nowhere...
Voice
What are we whispering about?
A new voice comes from behind the girls and they instantly scream. Laci's phone shines right in the eyes of the person and they back away, shielding.
Woman
Fuck... dude....
It takes a second but Laci comes to her senses, rushing the mystery woman and pushing her back into one of those aforementioned walls. She hits hard, letting out air from her lungs.
Woman
Jesus Christ!
The woman regains her momentum quickly, shoving Laci back. Laci nearly loses her grip but instead slides back on her foot and rebounds into the person squatting in her friends gym. From the side, Lucy watches the two women in the near darkness. The light from Laci's dropped phone shines up at the ceiling, highlighting the fight when Lucy's face breaks into a smile.
Lucy Richards
Flynn?
The mystery woman has her hands locked around Laci's neck, Laci is desperately trying to pry them off but the darker woman looks up, the light glinting in her steely blue eyes.
Woman
Who's asking?
The Mystery woman can't see Lucy very well in the dim light and she squints.
Lucy Richards
Flynn, it's Richie.
Flynn
Well fuck me…
'Flynn' drops her hands and steps over the offending phone to get a better look.
Flynn
I haven't seen you since when?
Lucy Richards
Middle school, you ho.
The two fist bump while Laci watches horrified. One hand rests on what she thinks is her bruised neck. Her eyes go wide and she can't believe what she's seeing.
Laci Valentine
You know each other?
Laci shakes her head. Red tendrils had fallen loose from her ponytail while Flynn appears no worse for wear in her dark hoodie.
Lucy Richards
I told you my Dad is some big honcho with the Canadian military. Well one year we had to live in Virginia. That's when I met Flynn.
She turns back to her long lost friend.
Lucy Richards
You haven't changed one bit.
Flynn
A lot of shit has happened. A lot of stupid shit.
Laci Valentine
Excuse me but are we forgetting that this person, whether you know her or not Lucy, has been here screwing up sales for the Fischers?
Both of the women turn back to Laci.
Flynn
Oh hey, yeah... about that. I'll ship out in the morning. I never really stay anywhere very long anyway."
Laci has so many questions. How did a woman from Virginia end up in a wrestling gym in Toronto Canada? Why was she squatting in abandoned buildings? She watched the two 'old' friends exchange words back and forth and she's not able to fully comprehend everything until Lucy says,
Lucy Richards
Come stay with us while you're in town. We can catch up.
Laci Valentine
What?!
Lucy Richards
Lace, don't be a square. Flynn is cool, I promise.
Laci Valentine
Am I supposed to just be okay with all this? And Is that a nickname?
The pair laugh.
Flynn
Yeah. My name's actually Zaylee Flynn.
Zaylee raises her hand to also offer a fist bump. Laci stares at her, leaving her hanging.
Laci Valentine
Five minutes ago we were trying to kill each other. You honestly think I'm just going to be cool with you now?
Zaylee shrugs.
Flynn
Suit yourself. You ambushed me sweetheart, It was self defense.
Laci Valentine
You broke into this place! It belongs to very good friends of mine. I wanted justice.
Zaylee groans dramatically.
Flynn
Oh for fucks sake…
She walks away and returns seconds later with a ratty looking canvas backpack. She rumbles through it until she finds a worn paper envelope and opens it. She sticks her tongue out one side of her mouth while looking through it and then pulls out a few hundred dollar American bills. She then throws them at Laci.
Flynn
Give that to your friends. I'm sure money will make this all disappear…
She rolls her eyes. Laci doesn't move to pick it up.
Laci Valentine
If you have money why not get a hotel room. Why squat in an abandoned wrestling gym?
Flynn
It's a long story. You got booze at your place?
She is again looking at Lucy.
Lucy Richards
Of course, does the pope wear a stupid hat?
Lucy is smiling ear to ear, a rare sight since Laci had met her.
Flynn
Then let's go and I'll fill you in. It all starts with this guy I met after I ran away the first time. Kyle Kavanaugh…
Laci face palms. The dude she was crushing on from twitter? This was like a big bloody nightmare quickly becoming worse.
Fade into the commentary booth, where Christian seems the calmest he has all night. Nonetheless, his mouth is ajar, with no words escaping it.
Lance Storm: We have just seen our last commercial break, ladies and gentlemen, and now is the time for the main event. In the build for this Gauntlet for the Gold, independent sensation David Starr signed with AWF, just managing to find his way into this first opportunity. A look at David Starr, just now.
David Starr
AWF...Alberta Wrestling Federation. The Best of The Best come through these doors and they look to make a name for themselves. This company has only been around for a short time and people are already holding it to the highest standard that a professional wrestling company can be held to...so I just had to make my way to the Great White North so that I can be a part of it.
David Starr
But...let's be real here...I am the one person that nobody expected to sign a full length deal with AWF. Hell...I am the King of The Independents for fucksakes..and already I am the underdog in my first match...people should know that I am not the underdog in any situation. I have worked my ass off on the indies since the day I started in wrestling. I am one of the most highly decorated independent professional athletes in the world...but...but it seems that no one understands that…
David Starr
...I should take that back... only the management in this company seems to understand it...because they have given me, along with twelve other men and women, an opportunity to become the number one contender for the AWF Championship at Primetime VI...which is a smart move on their behalf. But the downside to that is that the match is a gauntlet match...and just to show how overconfident I am... and because I just to prove everyone wrong about me. I am announcing that I would like to be the one to start the match...I am announcing that I want to run the gauntlet from the start. I want to prove to everyone watching live and to all the talent in the back that I am one of the best to ever lace up a pair of boots.
David Starr
People are going to call me foolish...sure...but this is what I do...I go out there each and every week and I put on the best matches I possibly can, I am Mr. Independent Professional Wrestling. I call myself the one hundred and four minute man for a reason...I have gone the distance in long and grueling matches before. I fought Dave Crist for one hundred and four minutes. We went to a 60 minute draw...then went for another forty-four minutes...I am the best of the best...I got that nickname by winning...well...The Best of The Best XVII. In that tournament I went on to beat Tessa Blanchard, Peter Avalon, Matt Riddle and in the finals I defeated Zachary Wentz to become The Best of The Best...yet people still don't understand the talent I have.
David Starr
Which is a shame...because if they really knew who I am...they would know that I am nothing to fuck with. They would know that me wanting to start this gauntlet would be a disadvantage for the others participating in this match. They would know that David Starr isn't someone that does high flying moves for the whole match, they should know that David Starr is someone who wrestles. Someone who fights to survive... Someone who doesn't take anything lightly...someone who isn't scared of throwing hard hitting strikes...because I know this isn't ballet. I know this is going to be a long and grueling match...that me asking to start is going to put a massive target on my back for this match. But I welcome that. I welcome the challenge. I welcome it all.
David Starr
I am going into this contest...with a gigantic target on my back. Which I openly accept. I know what I am getting myself into with this match up. I know this won't be easy...hell...I don't expect it to be easy. I expect this to be one of the hardest fights of my life...considering what's on the line here. A shot at Priscilla Kelly and her AWF World Championship. Which is a championship I would love to add to my list of accomplishments...which is already quite extensive to begin with. I have held countless titles across countless promotions. But AWF is where I want to be...and that AWF World Championship is something I need to hold. Not want to hold...I need to hold it. I'm sure Priscilla has been a great champion thus far...but if you have The Product as your worlds champion...then you really know that the company is great...because not only am I am one of the best professional wrestlers on this planet. I AM…
David Starr
The Cream in Your Coffee...Your Favorite Wrestlers Favorite Wrestler...The Jewish Cannon...The Physical Embodiment of Charisma...The Bernie Sanders of Professional Wrestling...The Most Entertaining Man in Professional Wrestling...Mr Americanrana...Davey Fucking Wrestling...The 104 Minute Man...The Main Event...I am really fucking good at Twitter...The King of Taunts...The Product...and after this match you can call me the next number one contender...I am...David...Starr…
The bad feedback brings us to the center of the ring, where the first four participants of the Gauntlet for the Gold have occupied the squared circle: David Starr, Kendrick Kross, Tony Savage, and Ruxx Rampede, all looking carefully amongst each other in their respective corners.
Mark Beverly: This next match is the Gauntlet for the Gold to determine the number one contender for the Alberta Wrestling Federation World’s Championship! The four men in the ring will start the match, and after each elimination will another participant join until there is one person standing!
Senior official Don Quintillis has the main event once more, and signals for the bell.
Ding!
Immediately, all three smaller men converge on Ruxx, who can’t do anything but accept the blows as they back him into the corner. Waiting to pick his spot, he finally finds one, pushing Kendrick Kross off him and across the ring, elbowing David Starr in the temple, and kicking Tony Savage in the gut.
Lance Storm: Ruxx Rampede, here, proving the aggressor
They quickly come together on the man as he nears the center, Kross running in with a basement dropkick that puts the big man on one knee. They circle the man and wail away with fists before suddenly, Ruxx explodes out in that overdone indie wrestling spot where he Supermans those hoes like Leslie Jones that usually looks like shit but it looks absolutely incredible, because it’s Ruxx bitchin’ Rampede, my nigga!
Kross rolls under the bottom rope as Savage eats an explosive running clothesline then Starr is rebounded off the ropes and eats a high back body drop. Kross is on his feet and charging, then caught by Ruxx, who swings him onto his shoulders then clobbers him down in the center of the ring. Savage’s next attack is thwarted by a fast big boot, the step down used as his sprint to clothesline David out of the ring who is leaning against the ropes!
Rampede is feeling it in the corner, Tacoma on their feet at the man’s early onslaught -- RAMPEDE STAMPEDE! ALREADY! KENDRICK KROSS FLIPS ON IMPACT! Quickly into the cover!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Kendrick Kross has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: Ruxx Rampede just cleared the ring and eliminated the first participant like it was a walk in the park.
Savage comes around with a swinging neckbreaker as Rampede rests on a knee unsuspectingly for just a split second - one second too long. He attempts a pinfall right away, as Matt Sydal can be seen sprinting down the ramp from the camera angle.
Don Quintillis: ONE!..........
KICKOUT
Sydal has hopped on the apron and then the top rope for a springboard, falling into a clothesline that takes down Savage! Seeing David Starr beginning to stir on the outside, Sydal’s immediately off the ropes furthest away and then back with a shooting star suicide dive over the top rope, laying out both men for the time being!
Savage is to his feet -- RAMPEDE STAMPEDE! ANOTHER ONE FROM NOWHERE AND SAVAGE BODY LOOKS WORSE FOR WEAR THAN THE LAST! Another pinfall!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Tony Savage has been eliminated.
Lance Storm: Ruxx has eliminated two now - both we’ve lost.
The next entrant is a bit more menacing. Walking out with eyes in the essence of Sid, Dyno-Mike is an intimidating sight as the gassed Ruxx takes another resting knee in the center of the ring. The crowd is not welcoming his presence, especially the cigar smugly lit in his mouth. Over his head is a horrible disfigurement of scar from the wrath of Orange Cassidy some weeks ago. As he nears the two men laid down at the foot of the ramp, a swift motion has David Starr in his grasp in one second and in the next the cigar burning down across his left shoulder with great vengeance and furious anger!
The crowd revolts as the welting can be seen with the close camera shot, Lance Storm unable to get out his line and save from possibly regurgitating on an international broadcast -- Mike’s psychotic chuckle all the more petrifying!
Cut to Ruxx who has decided he’s seen quite enough, asking the referee for a disqualification. When he learns Dyno isn’t legal until he’s in the ring, there’s no hesitation in hopping on the apron and hurtling himself with a flying clothesline just high enough to catch only Dyno-Mike and send him crashing down on the ramp!
Crowd: RUXX! RUXX! RUXX! RUXX!
Lance Storm: Thank goodness for Ruxx Rampede, that was uncalled for!
Rampede rolls through smoothly and is on pace for the rushing shoulder block that turns Dyno-Mike on his shoulders and down nearly underneath the ring! Mike’s up quickly, though, and uses Rampede’s momentum against him for a stiff lariat of his own, putting Rampede to the mat.
When he turns, he’s not expecting Sydal’s hurricanrana -- but he still manages to catch it halfway, pull him up, and throw him viciously in a powerbomb along the apron! What a sickening crack can be heard!
Mike barely let’s the body flop before he’s pulling up at the man and tossing him into the ring. When he turns, however, he catches a sudden boot in the face from David Starr with a picture perfect dropkick, though it only drops him to a knee. Adrenaline surges him through the form tackle bull rush into the apron! Still, he’s only to down his knees, so Starr decides the scar’s the bullseyes for those unrelenting right hand shots that keep pounding down! When Mike is stubborn to even those, Starr takes the necessary steps back to swing the boot through his face - his cheek smashing into the apron! The body finally falls!
Cut to Ruxx rolling under the bottom rope slyly then backing into a corner. Cut to hard camera, Sydal pulling himself up in the corner diagonal — RAMPEDE STAMPEDE! ANOTHER ONE! Another leg hook!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Matt Sydal has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: That’s three for Ruxx! All three!
Infuriated, Starr has managed Mike’s large carcass onto the apron, pulling him under his arm once he’s joined him -- CHERRY MINT DDT! Starr rolls him in for Ruxx as he gathers himself for a moment.
Climbing to his feet, Mike’s welcomed by a gut kick from the Binman, then a clubbing blow to the back - then from nowhere Dyno snaps and manages a fast belly to belly on Ruxx!
HAN STANSEN! The Stan Hansen-like lariat from David Starr turns Dyno-Mike around, but it’s the PRODUCT PLACEMENT -- the arm-trapped German that took all the Jewish Cannon’s strength -- that brings him down! He lets go of the trap to pin the shoulders in a full-nelson from the bridge!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Dyno-Mike has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: David Starr has one - but conspicuous by her absence was the entry after Sydal’s elimination and there Athena is now! She’s been stalking, and now she’s at the top rope!
Athena descends on David Starr with a diving spinning heel kick! The entry for Dyno-Mike isn’t so shy, the crowd already in all types of excitement, Max Ironside’s entry into the match another addition to it all. Athena is met in an immediate collar-and-elbow tie up, but it’s switched into an armdrag by her. Ironside is back to meet her next armdrag with a fancy foot landing, surprising her on the turn with a springboard back elbow! The attempted pinfall!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Ironside is up to his feet first but Athena isn’t far behind, catching him with a jumping sidekick he wasn’t quite expecting!
Lance Storm: Shades of the commissioner there.
A leg-hook on Ironside from Athena.
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Ironside stops Athena’s momentum with a kick to the stomach, before quickly wrapping her into a one-armed snap suplex with the bridge!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Ironside is up -- and Ruxx decides to remind them this is a multi-person affair when he clobbers Max with a clothesline! Athena’s charge is stopped with a boot, as on target as the last! Groggy, she still tries to get up, but he aggressively throws her into the corner, accompanying her on the trip to meet her with a body splash that leaves her body perfectly still to fall in Starr’s grasp -- BLACKHEART BUSTER! The way her neck bent over his kneecap on the brainbuster!
Lance Storm: Look - Ironside the opportunist! The Crippled Crossface! Athena was the first to tap to this in AWF history already!
Another fifty seconds goes by and this time Athena doesn’t tap! She cannot bear a full ninety seconds, however, tapping just at eight-seventy!
Mark Beverly: Athena has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: With that, all three in the ring have had at least one elimination by this point.
Cut to a sight we do not want to see. Disheveled, looking like an Andorran Mankind, comes Lieutenant Andorra, who cannot look up at the crowd before the holler…
Lieutenant Andorra: LUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
Cut to all three in the ring - Ruxx standing with both hands on his hips and head shaking, Max Ironside using the ring ropes as rest, and David Starr on a knee. Tacoma seems to darken in every way, in condelescene and sorrow for this poor father. Each attempt at a look at the crowd, Andorra shoos away lost in confidence. Such a slow, sad stride to witness. His roll under the bottommost ring rope is just as lost, and Ruxx looks at him with a deep look of sadness, but as though a duty must be done.
RAMPEDE STAMPEDE!
He does not bother to hook the leg, shaking his head as he shoots the half.
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Lieutenant Andorra has been eliminated!
Christian Cage: I know what to say about that, one, Storm: that was some sad shit.
Safe to say the demeanor shifts at the sight of the next entrant: ‘The First’ Phil Goode. Boos arise as the three in the ring get much more ready. While he cockily gloats the crowd on his way down the ramp, he stops in his tracks when he sees the daggers. With two hands up, he looks at referee Don Quintillis about a fairness of entry rule, to which the senior referee shrugs.
Essentially in the clear, all three suddenly exit the ring — Starr & Ruxx on one side and Ironside on the other solo. Goode doesn’t wait to see their plan, being the FIRST back in the ring with a quick slide in. With the high ground, he stands with his guard up while goading his opponents to try him one by one.
Instead, they decide to form like a nexus around the ring, surrounding the man from any entry point, especially at their speeds. Ironside’s the first in, over the top rope, then Ruxx, then Starr but they all collide in on the man in a bit of a reverse of Rampede’s starting scenario.
Phil attempts a similar Superman throw, but it doesn’t work so well, only destroying whatever good block he had on their clobbering shots. Ironside whips Goode into the ropes and both Starr & Ruxx are ready with the H Bomb!
Rampede is back in a corner, the other two letting him use his energies -- RAMPEDE STAMPEDE! The hook of the leg is tight and purposefully uncomfortable.
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Phil Goode has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: That’s five for Ruxx!
Eclipse doesn’t take long to emerge from the curtain, but is more cautious than her predecessor in her walk to the ring, seeing that the trio seem to have formed a sort of unspoken alliance, at least for now.
Cut to -- from the crowd! Barron Boneius, Kolotov (batton-wielding), & Leslie Jones!
Cut to -- from the other side of the crowd! Alaric with a limping Snivley close behind!
Cut to -- the unsuspecting trio inside the ring, pan to a slowing Eclipse, witnessing the incoming ambush. All men and Leslie are in the ring before they realize, and that is much too late. Leslie clears the referee from the ring while The Bone Batton comes across the back of Ruxx’s head, cracking the bald skin open upon impact.
Kolotov & Leslie come together as a duo to throw Ruxx to the outside as Boneius and Alaric ground Ironside and Starr in the ring. With their combined strength, they hold Ruxx over their heads in a double crucifix position, plunging him through the announce table!
Cut to Christian, the most incredulous he’s ever been. He takes off his headset and walks off.
Cut to Ruxx Rampede’s body, through the table, unsure which is more broken!
Barron Boneius: Enough evil endeavors for an endearing evening everyone!
On the command, the Legion clears the arena as if they had done nothing at all. Eclipse approaches the ring as Ironside’s body limps to the arena floor. Starr stands upon her entrance, but can’t do anything to block the karate back kick to the gut. A fast hiza geri to the temple limps Starr over, before she lands an axing soto mawashi to the burnmark on the shoulder! He exposes his chin in pain, perfect for her standing spinning heel kick right to the jaw! She doesn’t let him fall, instead hooking him between her legs -- PILEDRIVER!
Lance Storm: That’s her finish! Into the cover. It’s Charles Robinson on the slide in, that smooth son of a gun.
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: David Starr has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: He was one of our first four - what a debut!
Laci Valentine sprints out of the back immediately, to a mixed, unsure reaction. None of it is her concern, as she quickly slides underneath the bottom rope, ducks a spinning leg from Eclipse, bounds back off the ropes, and snatches up a tilt-a-whirl -- into a sunset flip, the pin!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Soon as they’re up, Laci has them back up with a spring up hurricanrana into the bridge!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Both back up -- Eclipse down with an enziguri! Laci doesn’t notice Ironside back up, springboarding in with a double knee smash to the shoulders! Down for a cover in the landing position!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Superkick to Max’s face from Eclipse! Eclipse takes advantage of the still downed Laci, getting back for her earlier onslaught with a ruthless series of fists from all sides. Suddenly, she springs back before hand-springing in the ring, off the ropes, spinning into a beautiful articulate legdrop maneuver! Into the pin fall.
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Eclipse takes advantage of a dazed Laci to carry her towards the top rope. Another spinning heel kick, this one to Valentine’s jaw, is to help ensure the grog. Still, Laci fights with fists and tries to push away her opponent climbing the second rope.
Charles Robinson is doing that weird referee hand thingie that Scott Armstrong does that clearly means nothing, but is to signify get off the damn ropes.
After a forearm doesn’t work, Laci desperately sends her head into Eclipse’s - her fall back first flopping her body around! Laci is not at her steadiest as she instinctively begins to adjust her body in a turn. She gears and is off…
HEAD OVER HEELS! The boots into the gut! The leg is crawled to quickly and hooked!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Eclipse has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: There’s only one entrant left! We’re down to our final four!
A massive pop is heard as Big Homunculus jogs down the ramp, the last entrant. His attention is clearly not in the ring however, as a confused Laci Valentine watches as he makes his way around the side of the ring to the broken announce booth area.
There, Big Homunculus gets down on all fours in an attempt to revive and speak to Ruxx, who has not been seen moving since the Legion made their appearance. Out of nowhere, the duo responsible for the carnage already slink behind Homunculus from the crowd.
Lance Storm: Oh no, these two must have been lying in wait!
Homunculus feels an uneasy presence and turns just in time to miss the swing from Kolotov’s Bone Batton! Action rolling out of the way in his lanky fashion, he’s able to recover in enough time to block Leslie’s double axe handle overhand strike and push her aside. He connects with a left jab to Kolotov’s jaw, before driving his head between Leslie’s breast, with a great force, into the barricade!
Cut to Laci Valentine, asking the referee about what’s going on, who tells him the same thing Quintillis told Ruxx: no one is legal until they’ve entered the ring. Ironside isn’t waiting, turning Laci around and kicking her in the gut, sending her into the ropes.
Cut to Kolotov attempting an overhead batton blow that is caught! A kick to Kolotov’s gut looses the vampire’s grip, and Homunculus uses the weapon over Leslie’s head without a second thought! Leslie Jones is down! Leslie Jones is down! Leslie Jones is down!
Cut to Laci into a wheelbarrow DDT -- no Ironside catches her in a hold similar to one he caught Priscilla in on the 30th -- but no, Laci manages it back around and rolls it into a rollup!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Cut to Barron Boneius, Alaric, and Snivley closing in on Homunculus swinging around the weapon toward a ducking and dodging Kolotov. One missed strike catches the ringpost, the vibrations painstaking, forcing the loss of grip. A well placed punch staggers Homunculus around right into Boneius’ strike, then around into the Bone Batton - wielded just barely by Snivley who hits him in his nether regions - before it’s snatched back into Kolotov’s position, for the swing over the head! The World’s Tallest Dwarf falls slow, allowing one more shot to speed up the process!
Cut to Laci Valentine having gotten the advantage over Max Ironside by this point, on the top rope yet again, Max on the other side of the ring. At that moment, the Barron slides Homunculus’ unconscious body beneath the bottom rope, much closer to her. She thinks a second and makes her choice.
HEAD OVER HEELS!
Crashing into Big Homunculus! And the cover!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Big Homunculus has been eliminated!
Down to the last three, Laci comes up to her feet and goes back to her previous task - THAT IS UP AND DROPPING HER WITH THE HAN-DECAPITATION! THE FACEBREAKER KNEE SMASH! Laci’s body limps up, then down, Ironside rolling into the leg grab.
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Laci Valentine has been eliminated!
The arena and this gauntlet has only been left with two individuals: Max Ironside and Ruxx Rampede. Ironside is sat on his knees in the center of the ring, catching his breath when in the corner of his eye, he cannot believe what he sees.
But Tacoma, Washington can.
Up pulls Ruxx Rampede.
The top of his head bloody.
His body beaten down.
In this bitchin’ PrimeTime main event for over thirty five minutes already.
And here he is, pulling. Grabbing at the rubble of the announce table, Christian Cage’s empty announce chair, just anything to help him gather himself. Soon enough, he realizes he has only himself, and so to his stomach he goes. And he accepts that he must crawl. And crawl he does, slowly but surely.
Cut to Max Ironside, standing now and backing away to the furthest ropes from the Binman.
Cut to the leader of the Three Big Niggas forcing his way up via the apron, then the bottom rope, just pull his torso up. In the ring, he sees Ironside, and this only motivates his next pull, as he calls everything within himself to drag himself into the ring between the bottom and middle ropes.
Ironside keeps his distance as Ruxx uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet, then takes the second to establish a sense of balance. A turn.
INTO THE CRIPPLED CROSSFACE!
It’s locked in!
Over forty seconds now, of Ruxx Rampede’s stretching and pulling, with what he can! With what he’s got left!
Over a minute!
Oh God the hand!
Here it is!
The foot on the rope! Ruxx uses his length to his advantage and the ref just sees it! Ironside respectfully breaks it immediately. He does not let up on his attack, however, pulling Ruxx up despite the slippery, bloody head -- RUXX HAS HIM IN HIS GRASP - BELLY TO BELLY OVERHEAD! Across the ring!
It’s taken everything out of Ruxx until suddenly, a surge goes through him to get to his feet and back into the corner in an all too familiar position! Ironside is unawares on his rise!
RAMPEDE STAMPEDE!
NO IRONSIDE CAUGHT THE HEAD IN A SUDDEN HAN-DECAPITATION! Ruxx’s bodies springs up and down dramatically at the force and he’s left laid out like a starfish on the mat!
Ironside crawls to the cover!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Ironside lets off his opponent, whose leg limps back to total stillness. Max doesn’t even seem proud as the hard camera zooms into his face. In fact, he doesn’t seem quite anything. He’s expressionless, perhaps for the first time. All he can do is stare into the camera as a deep breathing comes about him, intensifying as the referee grabs his wrist to raise his hand.
Mark Beverly: The winner of the Gauntlet for the Gold, and the number one contender for Priscilla Kelly’s AWF World’s Championship: MAX! IRON! SIDE!
Ironside allows for the referee’s acknowledgement of his win, but that’s the duration for his hand raising celebration. His focus is that camera. Or rather, who and what he knows is on the other side of that camera, staring right back. The intense face our last shot of the evening.
Max Ironside wins the Gauntlet for the Gold in 38:41
END
BLACK LIVES MATTER
Now the cold open.
Ruxx Rampede sits on his bed, his room illuminated by moonlight. He stares wistfully at a toy garbage truck, sitting on his cabinet, across his room. A big fat tear falls from his eye. He bows his head.
Sun streaks through different windows now, and the same garbage truck is being tossed around and played with. It's years earlier, and playing with the garbage truck, is a young Ruxonald Rongram, Ruxx Rampede himself. He is a little black boy, about 7 years old. He has a joyous smile on his face.
Ruxx
Vroom! Vroom! OUT THE WAY BITCHES!!!
Ruxx slams the garbage truck into various wrestling figures, blasting them all across the room. He grabs a Hulk Hogan figure that he's put in a little high vis vest and painted to look black with a permanent marker. This is supposed to be Ruxx himself. I'm surprised Hulk hasn't done this in real life yet.
Ruxx
Which of you niggas is going in the trash!
Suddenly he hears a noise outside, and his ears perk up. His mum runs into the room with an eager smile.
Ms. Rongram
Ruxxy baby! They're here!
Ruxx
Yes! Thanks bitch!
Ms. Rongram only smiles, as Ruxx bolts past her out of the house, taking his garbage truck with him. He runs down the drive, to see the bin men driving down the road towards him, collecting the rubbish as they go. The whole street is out of their doors in their gardens, cheering and clapping them. Ruxx tears up with excitement. He is about to meet his heroes yet again.
They pass by and Ruxx runs towards them, trying to get their attention. The two binmen see him and smile, turning towards him.
Binman #1
If it isn't little Ruxxy boy!
Ruxx
Hey! HEY! HEEEEYYYYYYY!!!
Binman #2
We see you Ruxx! Doing alright?
Ruxx
Yeah! Yeah! Look, I got a new bin man mobile!
Ruxx parades his little toy garbage truck, before looking up in awe at the real one before his eyes. He turns back to the bin men.
Ruxx
Can you sign it?
Binman #2
Sure can you little spruced up cunt.
The Binmen grab the little toy garbage truck, and sign it. Ruxx looks at the signatures, and his eyes tear up yet again.
Ruxx
I can't wait to be just like you guys!
Binman #1
Work hard little man, and you'll get there.
Binman #2
But hey listen…
Binman #2 kneels down to Ruxx's level.
Binman #2
As you can see, this is a rewarding job, people love you.
He points down the street, at the clapping and wooping people at their doors.
Binman #2
But you can't let it go to your head. A binman is first and foremost a man who helps society, collects rubbish, he is not a celebrity.
Binman #1
As Hugh Jackman sang in a film that's not out yet...
I drank champagne with kings and queens
The politicians praised my name
But those are someone else's dreams
The pitfalls of the man I became
Ruxx
I understand, I do.
Binman #2
Good little man, good.
CUT TO
A champagne bottle popping open, and a now much older Ruxx, about 26, in a bright high vis tuxedo, pouring the champagne into various glasses. He is on a huge yacht, with various well dressed and attractive people, and they all woop as they drink the champagne. Ruxx looks out to the waves ahead of him.
Ruxx
I'm on top of the world nigga! I have let the fame go to my head!
He is at Bin Con, this year hosted on a big yacht. He looks up at a big banner that says 'Bin Awards in 10 mins'. He turns to his companions, a bunch of rich folk.
Ruxx
I'm winning the Best Fucking Binman Award niggas.
One of the rich bitches steps forward, a woman in a sparkly red dress. It's Culinda.
Culinda
And you deserve to Mr. Rongram!
Ruxx feels an arm on his shoulder, and turns around to see the face of his fiance, Spaghetti. She isn't Italian she's Chinese. She looks mad at Ruxx.
Ruxx
What's up bitch?
Spaghetti
Don't call me bitch, bitch! You're getting too drunk! What if you win the Best Binman Award! You'll slur through your whole speech!
Ruxx
They won't give a fuck! They all love me anyway! I'm the most loved Binman in the world! I was on Time Magazine! I did the first ever bin round in Space!
Spaghetti
You know what you haven't done yet? Got married! We've been engaged for 4 years Ruxx!
Ruxx
Yeah we'll get to that when we get to that!
Spaghetti
When??? I want to become Mrs Spaghetti Rongram already! I'm sick of being Spaghetti Rampede!
Ruxx
Nothing wrong with the name Rampede.
Spaghetti
It's not about the names themselves, it's about what they represent! It feels like you don't have time for me anymore! You'd rather get drunk with your friends!
Ruxx
You right you right! Tell you what, after the awards, whether I win or not, go in that room of ours, put on something real fucking sexy, and I'll show you just how much time I do have for you, my hot ass Spaghetti ass fiance!
Spaghetti grins, and kisses Ruxx, before scampering off. Ruxx looks at her ass.
Ruxx
FUCK YEAH! That girl is PACKIN NIGGA!!!
Cut to later. Everyone is sat in chairs looking up at the stage. Barack Obama is on stage, holding a big gold award shaped like a wheelie bin. He speaks into the mic.
Barack Obama
And the winner of Best Fucking Binman in the World or whatever this award is fucking called, it's….
He opens the little envelope.
Barack Obama
RUXONALD RONGRAM!
Ruxx
YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHH BITCHES!!!
Ruxx shoots out of his seats, and everyone claps and woops, as he starts flipping everyone off. He kicks over chairs and slaps a few people across their faces, but the claps and cheers don't stop. He gets to the stage, and wedgies Barack Obama, before throwing him into the crowd. He picks up his award, and holds it high in the air.
Ruxx
I'm tha champ niggas!!!
Everyone claps and cheers, including Barack Obama who is back on his feet.
Ruxx
I knew I'd do this because I am the best binman. This is no surprise to me. I want to say 'you can do anything you set your mind to', but that isn't true. I'm just the best. Don't idolise me and think you can do what I do. I am better than you. Including Obama.
Everyone continues to clap. Ruxx can do no wrong. He's on top of the world. He starts to pretend to hump the award. The claps maybe actually increase. He looks into the audience and sees Spaghetti smiling at him. She gives him a flirtatious wink, before moving down the hall towards their room, ushering him to follow.
Ruxx
Anyway niggas, I got some luscious ass pussy to attend to! That's right, it's time to…
He puts the mic towards the audience, they all in unison scream 'FUCK! THAT! BITCH!'. Ruxx throws the mic so hard it kills five people. He doesn't care. He cartwheels off the stage and smashes through a bunch of seats, almost breaking his back. He tries to play it off as if it didn't hurt but it really did. Obama is at his side.
Barack Obama
You alright brother?
Ruxx
I'm alright Barack Obama. I've not decided what time period I'm setting this promo in just yet so I don't know if you've become president by this point or not.
Barack Obama
That's alright nigga.
Obama ushers Ruxx over to the bar.
Barack Obama
Lets get you a drink.
Ruxx
Oh I shouldn't, I've got my fiance…
Barack Obama
Come on! You can have one drink with me brother I'm sure!
Ruxx thinks about it for a second.
Ruxx
Alright! ONE DRINK! Not getting too crazy!
Cut to Ruxx absolutely off his tits, snorting a massive line of cocaine off of Obama's cock. Everyone on the boat is cheering and clapping, all throwing champagne and cocaine into their own faces. Culinda is off somewhere getting fucked up the ass by Bam Bam Bigelow. Ruxx jumps on the bar and rips off his high vis tuxedo, before doing the worm along the bar. The whole boat is going crazy.
Ruxx
This is the best way I could be spending my time! I have forgotten any other obligations! I'm pretty sure I haven't forgotten to do something crucial that means a lot to someone close to me, that may have dire consequences and lead to me learning a harsh life lesson that was told to me when I was young by my heroes that I forgot all about. That's the moral of this story maybe? Who knows we'll see!
Obama throws a rock at Ruxx's head and it nearly kills him. They all just laugh it off though. Michael Chiklis moves over to Ruxx, he's had a lot to drink.
Michael Chiklis
You ever need anything nigga, I'm your guy.
Ruxx
Who tha fuck you think you are saying nigga, nigga?
Michael Chiklis
The Thing is a person of colour.
Ruxx
Shit you right he's orange.
Spaghetti meanwhile is out of her room, in sexy lingerie, and she looks over and sees Ruxx dancing on the bar, doing the running man, and shakes her head. She moves off out of the room, out into the blistering cold onto the front of the yacht. No one inside has noticed due to the loud music and the partying, but quite a harsh storm comes along.
Rain hits Spaghetti on her Asian face, hiding her tears. She looks out at the sea ahead of her, the waves coming higher and higher, and she looks down into them. Sad.
Spaghetti
I just want to be loved by him. I just wish I was loved.
Ruxx is off the bar now, and moves into the middle of the dance floor where he starts windmilling his dick. He looks out of a glass door, and sees Spaghetti outside, leaning on the railing, rain hitting her face, looking out at the waves.
Ruxx
Oh shit! My bitch!
Spaghetti looks down into the waves below, and doesn't see it coming when a huge fucking tentacle reaches out towards her. She screams as she's grab and lifted into the air. Ruxx screams, and charges towards the glass door and shatters it with a huge pounce.
Ruxx
GET OFF MY BITCH NIGGA!
Ruxx is too late. Spaghetti screams as she's pulled into the waves below. Ruxx looks helpless, as everyone behind him are in silence now. Ruxx, stripped off completely now, makes a judgement call. He jumps over the barrier and cannonballs into the water below.
Once in the water, Ruxx looks down at the depths below, he sees Spaghetti being pulled down into it, tentacle wrapped around her. He swims as fast as he can towards her. She looks up at him, her face terrified. She reaches up her arms towards him, and he reaches his down towards her. Their finger tips touch, until another tentacle smacks Ruxx across the face. He falls unconscious, and Spaghetti screams, as she's wrenched into the dark depths of the ocean to her death.
Ruxx isn't in the ocean anymore, he's sat on a cloud. He gets to his feet, and moves around it curiously. He peers off the end of the cloud, and sees how high up he is. He turns around, and screams as he sees a plane coming right at him. As the plane hits him, instead of being killed instantly, he realises he is suddenly on the plane itself.
He is stood in the aisle. He starts to walk up and down, looking at the faces in the seats. They are all of Hugh Jackman, who's dead. Ruxx looks sad, as he moves towards one of the Hugh Jackmans, respectfully closing his dead eyes with his fingers.
Ruxx
Damn Wolverine nigga they got you.
Ruxx looks down the aisle, towards the cockpit. He starts to move towards it, before opening it up. There is no pilot. He quickly jumps into the pilot seat, and realises he doesn't really know how to pilot the plane.
The co-pilot seat spins around, and Hugh Jackman reveals himself in that one.
Ruxx
Damn Hugh what do I do???
Hugh
The plane's crashing Ruxx.
Ruxx
Shit! SHIT!
Ruxx looks out the window, and sees the plane is indeed heading straight towards the sea.
Ruxx
Is this it??? Is this the end!??
Hugh
No. It's not too late to save it Ruxx. You just have to make the effort.
Ruxx looks back out of the window ahead, as the plane crashes straight into the ocean, completely obliterating him and Hugh and the whole plane.
Ruxx wakes up, sitting up suddenly and spitting water out of his mouth. He's been washed up on a beach, a beach he's all too familiar with. It's Boynton Beach. He jumps to his feet quickly.
Ruxx
SPAGHETTI!!! SPAGHETTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!
He cries out as he looks out into the ocean ahead. He spots something glimmering wash up onto the beach. He runs towards it, and picks it up. He starts to cry, as he realises it is the engagement ring he gave to Spaghetti. Ruxx collapses to his knees, punching the sand below.
Cut back to the present, Ruxx is sat in his room. He looks from the signed toy garbage truck, over to the Golden Wheelie Bin award sat next to it. He looks down at his hand, the engagement ring around his finger, and gulps.
He gets to his feet, and grabs the wheelie bin award, before storming out of his house.
He pulls up in his garbage truck onto Boynton Beach, before storming over to the waves, wheelie bin award in hand. He looks down at it, he's crying.
Ruxx
Time to take out the trash.
He hurls it into the ocean ahead. It flies far far far into the distance, before finally splashing into the sea. He falls to his knees once more, looking out across the sea.
Ruxx
I'll save that plane Hugh. I promise.
Cut. On a pristine landfill on a summer's evening, Ruxx Rampede, Black Clyde and Big Homunculus are sat in folding chairs. A TV is set up in front of them, not plugged into anything but presumably being powered by sheer black excellence.
Big Homunculus - still sporting bumps and bruises from his Gold Rush war, hand in a cast - wears his prized, animal hide hoody entrance attire.
Black Clyde is reading a magazine, this is the cover.
A figure appears a couple of hundred meters away on the edge of the landfill, it's a police officer.
Policeman
Hey ya'll need to clear outta he-
Before he can finish his sentence, Ruxx throws an empty bean can straight as an arrow and clean through the policeman's skull and out the other side. Black Clyde and Big Homunculus contribute by hurling a litany of landfill items, mainly used diapers, at the body until it's totally covered in a disgusting heap.
Ruxx Rampede
What a beautiful evening.
On the TV, The Greatest Showman is playing.
Big Homunculus
I do not understand. Why is he called Huge Jacked Man? He is not especially large? And why doesn't he simply chokeslam his enemies, who are not protecting their throats at all?
Ruxx Rampede
This is art, my man, you gotta appreciate that not everything is about chokeslams and headbutts and shit.
BLACK AND WHITE FLASHBACK to Homunculus' hand shattering against the golden bone baton.
Back in the present:
Big Homunculus
There is nothing in this for me. All the characters are so elongated and repulsive.
Zendaya's pink-haired character appears on screen.
Black Clyde
Oh my lord.
Big Homunculus
My goodness.
Ruxx Rampede
There's something in this for everyone.
Black Clyde
I think she just injected steroids into my dick
Ruxx Rampede
The Zendaya effect.
Big Homunculus
Maybe you will one day marry this, "Zendaya". I wouldn't have a future with her unless she wanted something to carry around in her purse.
Ruxx Rampede
You need to stop with this self pitying "I hate being a midget" bullshit. Zendaya ain't rejecting you because you're short and neither is that bad little bitch Hayley. It's because you're not confident in yourself. And we got a fight coming up so you better get some gumption from somewhere.
Big Homunculus
Of course.
Ruxx Rampede
Lucky number thirteen entrants but only one winner.
Homunculus looks at Ruxx whose eyes are fixed on the TV screen.
Big Homunculus
There can be only one.
Ruxx Rampede
Too damn right. May the best bin man or midget win. And fuck that white boy balaclava ass bitch he ain’t doing shit this time. Nobody in that ring gonna be able stand up to us, so we need to be in tip top condition because everyone knows we’re the baddest after Gold Rush. We got targets on our well-massaged backs.
Homunculus' brow is furrowed in thought.
Big Homunculus
Very true.
Ruxx gets up and goes to a refrigerator next to them that's being powered by two absolutely shredded hamsters on a wheel.
There's one can of Bin Man's blueberry flavoured soda at the back of the refrigerator and he reaches in to get it, but this is one deep fucking refrigerator. Homunculus watches.
BLACK AND WHITE FLASHBACK to Homunculus looking up at the white turtle-necked man in his blue ski mask bringing the steel chair down on Homunculus' skull.
Back in the present:
Homunculus gets up from his folding chair and picks the chair up in his left hand. Ruxx's head is still buried in the refrigerator, his back to everything.
Ruxx Rampede
Let me know if Zendaya has a sex scene. One with close shots of penetration and all that good motherfucking artistic shit. She didn't the last ten time I watched this but a man can hope.
Homunculus stands behind Ruxx and quietly removes his animal hide hooded cape.
BLACK AND WHITE FLASHBACK to an exhausted Homunculus receiving words of encouragement from a bloodied Ruxx out the window of the garbage truck before Ruxx passes out.
Back in the present:
Ruxx manages to reach the can at the back of this deep fucking refrigerator and turns around to see Homunculus stood ominously, facial expression intensely stoic as if he’s about to do something he’s unsure about the consequences of. Ruxx cocks his head. Homunculus extends the animal hide hooded cape to Ruxx.
Big Homunculus
In the words of Captain Phillips, you are the captain now.
Ruxx takes the hide and for once struggles for words.
Ruxx Rampede
You ain't never seen the film Captain Phillips have you?
Big Homunculus
What is a film?
A beat.
Ruxx and Homunculus go through an insanely complicated secret hand shake, involving high fives, low fives, fist bumps, elbow bumps, front flips, triple back flips, the ritual sacrifice of a unicorn and a far away galaxy imploding. The handshake ends with both of them completely exhausted.
Ruxx Rampede
Why you got that chair under your arm?
Big Homunculus
If I left it out Black Clyde would use it to do feet-raised tricep dips.
Black Clyde
(Doing feet raised tricep dips using a pair of discarded cow skulls) He ain't wrong!
In the background the disgusting pile of diapers is collected by a trash compactor and crushed into a small cube.
Ruxx Rampede
What a beautiful evening.
Cut these words on the screen:
The following limited commercial edition of AWF Tuesday Night PrimeTime is brought to you in large part by iHeartRadio
Fade.
iHeartRadio also presents the following excerpt of Rage 25/8
Previously on Action Wrestling Monday Night Clash! Raging Dead spent several weeks searching for his wife's attacker! It was finally revealed that his arch rival from Trinity Wrestling FRANK LOWE was responsible for the heinous attack! The day Lowe was outted as the attacker, Sara Pettis was not present, as she was overseeing the groundbreaking ceremony for their new training facility. The following is a Duo call between husband and wife, immediately following AW Monday Night Clash on the first of June.
Sara
Are you okay?
Nathan
No. Not at all. Did you watch Clash?
Sara
Yeah! I can't believe it was Frank Lowe all along!
Nathan
Oh, I can. He's always been a heartless bastard. What I can't believe is I asked him about the attack… last week… to his face… and he lied to me. I should have known better than to trust him.
Sara
You've been so worked up about this. Don't blame yourself for missing it. Blame Frank. Save all of that rage for Evolution 3.
Nathan
That won't be a problem. My problem is that I'm having a hard time focusing on AWF. I'm still in the Provincial Championship Tournament… and I feel like I'm letting them down by not giving it my full, undivided attention.
Sara
You'll do what needs to be done there. You always do.
Nathan
Do I though? My AWF run has been spotty at best. It's been peaks and valleys… and now I've got a no disqualification match with Orange Cassidy.
Sara
That’s the guy with the pockets?
Nathan
That’s the one. I’ll talk about him a bit on the podcast. I have an oddly specific disdain for that guy… that I don’t think even you know about.
Sara
I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned his name to me. That’ll be interesting. Who is your guest on today’s episode?
Nathan
Christina. I want to talk to her about plans for MadClan Canada… how she’s liking AWF so far… what plans she has for her future. Stuff like that.
Sara
Ohhhhh that’ll be good. I’ll leave you to it then.
She steps out of the room and he puts his headset on, then rolls his chair closer to the computer.
[PLAY]
Nathan
Hello and welcome to another fantastical episode of Rage 25/8, right here on iHeartRadio. I am your host, The Raging Dead. Today’s episode will feature an interview with my nice, Christina King. Some of you know here as Madwoman Szalinski. One day, you’ll all know her as AWF World Champion. But first… let’s recap what has happened to me recently. My quest to be AWF World Champion was cut short when I was eliminated from the tournament by Athena… but then I qualified for the Provincial Title Tournament by defeating… in a symmetrical turn of events… Athena. Then at Gold Rush… I defeated Wallaby Way Sydney to move on in the tournament. My championship aspirations are paused for the moment because I’ve got a match against Orange Cassidy next week on PrimeTime. Hold on. Is that match really not part of the tournament?
Okay. No, it appears as if our match is NOT part of the tournament. The layout of the tournament remains unclear, at least to me. I’ve got a lot going on right now, so it’s possible I’ve missed something important along the way. What I DO know is that next week… AWF is holding PrimeTime for the FIRST TIME in the United States! Yes, Alberta Wrestling Federation is coming to Tacoma, Washington. What an exciting time to be alive. I haven’t been out to Tacoma in… man… I don’t even know how many years. It’ll be a blast getting back out there… and even BETTER if I add on another win to my growing list. Did you know that I am three and one right now? My only loss was to Athena… which I kind of made even by defeating her the following week. Next up is a man by the name of Orange Cassidy. To you… he’s an internet darling and consistent meme. To me… he’s a fraud.
Let me explain. Early on in my career… and I’m talking EARLY… I was given a weird gimmick for a TV pilot called Family Oriented Wrestling League. Yes, FOWL. The pilot was SO bad that it didn’t get picked up and we all thought we would be blacklisted. My gimmick was very simple. I played the role of Lightbeard the Pirate, one half of the Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything… obviously inspired by Veggie Tales. Our schtick was that we didn’t… do… anything. Super lazy, super light punches and kicks, hands in pocket. Did you catch what I just said? Hands… in… pockets. Our schtick was to do as little as humanly possible… and it was super over with the studio audience. The problem was… it wasn’t over with the suits responsible for picking up FOWL as a TV program. This was 1991… and Orange Cassidy would have been… maybe seven years old. Is it possible that he witnessed this pilot as a child and was inspired to portray this character of his?
That one hour pilot aired across the tri-state area of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut on a Saturday morning… likely when young Orange Cassidy was eating his cereal on his father’s knee. No, I don’t know his life story, but I do know he’s from New Jersey. It has been my conspiracy theory for quite some time that Orange Cassidy EXISTS because of Lightbeard the Pirate. Sure, he’s not a pirate… but everything else about him is spot on what I was doing in 1991. Now… almost three decades later… he’s adored by the internet wrestling community for his lackadaisical demeanor and that stupid… thing… with his pockets. I don't necessarily hate the kid. I just don't like that he's been so successful for being what I consider incredibly lazy.
Yes… it COULD seem like I am jealous of his success doing something I briefly did almost thirty years ago. I will admit that I am a bit envious that he has done so much by doing so little. It kind of sucks that I worked SO hard for SO long, and my efforts can be overshadowed by that stupid thing he does with his pockets. And don't you even get me started on those stupid glasses! The whole gimmick is lazy… and he's so damn smart for taking advantage of the viewing habits of our audience. Back in my day… fans wanted to see professional wrestling. They wanted us to pour our blood… our sweat… and our years on that canvas. They wanted to see the true artists go work.
Nowadays… thanks to a generation of Orange Cassidys… a growing number of fans prefer color by number art. They don't care about our sacrifices. They only care about those STUPID pockets. What would Orange Cassidy be without those stupid pockets? He'd still be playing dress up as an ant or something. The guy has never had to work a day in his life, and that's unfair to those of us who have devoted our lives to this sport. I'm not just talking about me. I'm referring to the Punk Rock Ballerina… The Madwoman… Christina King. At Gold Rush… my niece poured her heart and soul into her match against Orange Cassidy… and that goofball stole a victory from her. And then… I snapped.
I let my rage get the best of me… and obliterated Orange Cassidy with a steel chair. He hurt my niece's pride… and I took matters into my own hands… or rather… a steel chair. It's only right that he has a chance to fight me with no disqualifications. Then again… does he ever REALLY fight? Sure, he does a dive now and again… and he used a done-to-death maneuver to defeat Christina at Gold Rush… but there is NO WAY he can be prepared for this match at PrimeTime. I'm a monster and he's a Muppet. Putting the two of us against each other… while taking away all disqualifications… will only result in me ripping all of his stuffing out. It is going to be so graphic that AWF will probably be banned from holding events in the United States ever again.
Will I feel remorse for the bodily harm I cause to Orange Cassidy? No, not immediately. What physical damage I do to him… will be for the mental damage he did to Christina. While experienced at this craft… she has not experienced enough loss to truly learn from it and grow into a more rounded performer. I, on the other hand… have lost almost as many times as I've won. Even in defeat… I grow stronger than ever. Remember that time I was pinned by Athena? No… you don't… because the very next week I learned from my mistakes and I avenged that loss in record time. That might be the quickest match in AWF history. If I had a producer here on Rage 25/8… I would ask them to research that. Until then… let's all pretend like it's true.
What I'm getting at… is that wins and losses absolutely matter for title contention… but in the grand scheme of a career… they are miniscule. What matters most… are the moments people remember. In a week… nobody but Christina will remember the ending of her match at Gold Rush. What they WILL remember… is immediately following that match when I nearly decapitated Orange Cassidy with a chair. That moment will be amplified thanks to my dominant victory next week in Tacoma. And then… it's on to the Provincial Championship! Maybe? I don't know what's next, to be honest. For all I know… I could take things too far next week… and end up suspended. That's a risk I'm always willing to take. The moments are what truly matter to my legacy… and destroying Orange Cassidy will be one hell of a moment.
I need to switch gears and bring on my special guest this week. She's arguably the best wrestler in Trinity Wrestling history. Former Television and World Champion there. Her undefeated streak earned her the 2019 MVP Award. She comes from a large and complicated wrestling family. I've got her on hold and I am beyond excited to bring her on the show today! She is my niece… my friend… my protégé... Christina King! Hello and welcome to---
[STOP]
As that piece hits a minute five seconds in, the PrimeTime logo animates to life in the forefront of all the ensuing action before flashing into the Tacoma Dome, a sold out audience for the starting show of the U.S. Leg of AWF’s Western World Tour - the reason for the limited commercial special. This week, however, there are no pyrotechnics.
A black velvet carpet is stretched across the ring, as inside it, stands various staff members and wrestlers. Booker T, Rockstar Spud, Eclipse, Phil Goode, Laci Valentine, Jose Figeuiras and his assistant, the now dwarf Roderick Kross, referee Cal Elton, and stood looking especially smug, in a full suit, is none other than TV Personality Howell Saxon. Conspicuous by his unusual attire: AWF’s commissioner has foregone his usual three-piece suit for instead black slacks, Oxfords, and a t-shirt tucked in reading boldly ‘I CAN’T BREATHE.’
The crowd are thrown into a flurry of boos, as the very smug Priscilla is carried out on the shoulders of Prince Albert, the AWF World's Championship held high above her head. She places it down over her shoulder, adjusting her rose crown on the top of her head, as Howell moves over and sits on the middle rope, allowing Priscilla to climb into the ring easily. She gives a wink and a smile at Howell, pulling a microphone out of her jocks, before moving around the ring and inspecting the faces, giving a courteous nod at most of the faces, some of whom nod back.
She stops at Spud, the pair catching eyes, and Spud tries his best to keep his composure as Priscilla smirks at him.
Priscilla Kelly
No way I'm in the ring for that match, huh?
Priscilla holds the Championship above her head.
Priscilla Kelly
That was some big talk last week from a dude out in Round 1.
Priscilla barely pays Spud a second look, moving on from him quickly. Until she comes face to face with Booker T.
Priscilla Kelly
Hey Commish. No denying me that top spot in the Top 10 now, is there? I guess that's why one didn't go up this week? You and Bret will do anything to avoid acknowledging me as the best you got, huh?
Priscilla mimes the action of looking around the ring in an over the top manner.
Priscilla Kelly
Where is that old, out of shape, overrated piece of shit anyway?
Boos from the crowd. Saxon chuckles.
Priscilla Kelly
Not here. Wow. This is how Bret treats his talent people. Not just his talent, either, his top talent. His top champion. I scrape and claw my way to the top of the ladder and succeed in his company despite everything he threw at me, and he can't even look me in the eye and congratulate me when it's all said and done.
Priscilla turns to Booker.
Priscilla Kelly
Couldn't be you, could it Book.
Priscilla extends her hand for Booker to shake. Booker looks down at her hand for a few moments, before clearing his throat, and shaking it. There are boos from the crowd, but Booker knows it's what he had to do.
Priscilla Kelly
Don't look so defeated Book. We could get a cool thing going here. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. And trust me… I give much better back scratches than Sharmella.
Priscilla raises her eyebrows at Booker, who can barely look her in the eyes after that statement.
Priscilla Kelly
And let me tell you all the good news! You are ALL invited to Priscilla Kelly's Bondage Bash! That's right, house party! Celebrating me and my new title win! Everyone on the roster is invited… well except Lt. Andorra, y'know, Lucas' dad. I think things would get hairy with him there y'know? But either way, everyone else! Be there or be fucking square!
Albert starts handing out party flyers. Priscilla only giggles, before twirling on the spot and coming to a sudden stop facing the hard camera. She notices the crowd are booing.
Priscilla Kelly
Boo all you want bitches, I am the champion. I am the face of this company. I proved everything I said. Real wrestling is for smarks and losers and virgins and pussies. If Max Ironside listened to me when I told him all this, maybe if he realised how much his own ass kissing ideologies fucking suck, he'd have had a better chance at winning this belt. But he had no chance. I didn't just beat him once. I beat him twice. Thanks Bret for giving me that opportunity. You gave me a title win and a title defence more or less in the same night!
Priscilla laughs, Albert joining in.
Priscilla Kelly
I notice though, looking around me, Maxi-Pad is tragically not present. Where are ya' Maxi? Come on out, I wanna see that hunky face.
Priscilla looks over at the stage. No sign of Max.
Priscilla Kelly
Oh well, take your time, as soon as your finished wiping up your tears you can-
Priscilla is slightly taken aback, but then a huge smile hits her face as her eyeline snaps to the stage. Ironside appears, face sullen, only barely hiding pure hatred, as she moves down to the ring.
Priscilla Kelly
Here he is! Last week's big loser! Oh wait, last week? That's not right… life's big loser.
Max is at the ring now, climbing onto the apron as he glares Priscilla.
Priscilla Kelly
You lost right at birth didn't ya', you little mutant you! Then you've been losing your way right all the way through your wrestling career! Then you finally came to AWF, thought things might be different, battled your way through the tournament… but-pfft!
Priscilla snorts as she knows what's coming. Max, in the ring now, looks unamused. Albert and Howell join in the laughing.
Priscilla Kelly
But- hahaha- yikes! It was just, cruel, really. Life shouldn't ever get your hopes up, not when it knows it'll all be the same. That L you took to me, was obvious. As obvious as the fact that your whole career going forward will be filled with more and more L's, Maxi-Pad.
Max glares daggers at Priscilla, as she tip-toes closer to him.
Priscilla Kelly
But your biggest loss, is that instead of choosing to have your way with this hot ass in front of you… you choose to stay with that dumb ugly cunt Rayna.
And in the instant Priscilla finishes this line, she's done for. In the blink of an eye, Max has lunged at her, swiping a huge shot at her head that she only barely ducks. He swings again, but he's scooped up by Albert, who throws Max away from Priscilla as the Gypsy Princess bolts out of the ring with haste, escaping her assailant.
Max is back at Albert quickly though, crashing a fist into his nose. Albert tries to follow up with a lariat, but it's ducked, before an enziguri dizzies him and sends him stumbling into the turnbuckle. As the ring starts to empty out, Howell doesn't follow the AWF roster, moving over to Ironside with haste and batting a forearm into his back.
With Ironside doubled over, Howell throws more and more clubs into his back, knocking the Handicapped Hero to his knees. Saxon smiles, moving back a few steps, before lifting up his trouser to leg, to show he has come equipped with none other than that famed steel shinguard of his.
He aims directly at Max's head, readying for him to get to his feet.
But he's spun around!
Booker is there, and lands a huge kick to Howell's gut. As Howell keels over, Booker is already charging off of the ropes…
SCISSOR KICK!
Howell hits the mat hard, clutching at his neck in pain. Booker stands above the downed Saxon, a look of anger on his face.
Commissioner Booker: You don't touch my boys, sucka.
Ironside exits the ring quickly, scanning around quickly for Priscilla, before spotting her a long way away, retreating up the steps in the crowd. She's too far away, chasing her would be pointless, as she runs hectically, title clutched close to her.
When she knows she's far enough away, she turns around to look back at the ring, back down at Ironside, and the two catch eyes. Priscilla looks angered now herself, but not more so than Ironside, who reaches under the apron, and pulls out a steel chair.
Priscilla looks shocked, but does not run to the aid of her pet as Ironside rolls back into the ring and aims the chair at Prince Albert. Booker puts up his hands, as he slowly retreats out of the ring, wanting no part of what he knows is to come.
Albert is finally to his feet, turning around…
And Max clatters the steel chair over his head! Albert's head snaps backwards violently, blood immediately sputtering out of an open wound on his forehead, and before he can even hit the mat, the steel chair is brought over his skull once more!
Blood spatters everywhere as Albert plummets to the mat, but Ironside isn't done! He brings the chair down over Albert again, and again, right over his head. No whimpers of joy or ecstacy, just cries of confusion and helplessness. No masochistic joy derived from this painful endeavour, just brutal unconsciousness, as Albert goes still.
Max finishes up with one final, awful chair shot, before throwing the chair to one side, soaked by the blood that leaks from the skull of Albert. Ironside glares up at Priscilla once more as she ascends the steps in the crowd, the Gypsy Queen looking horrified, terrified, with wide eyes almost filled with tears at the wreckage her poor Albert has been left in. This is not how she expected this to go.
Ironside's theme hits, and the helpless Priscilla starts back up the steps in the crowd, running through the fire exit, Championship still hugged tight. Ironside meanwhile doesn't celebrate, just glaring at where Priscilla was just stood.
He's coming for that title.
A gentle crossfade to the commentary team, back ringside as usual for a Tuesday evening, Christian Cage wide-eyed and too shocked to get the first word this week.
Lance Storm: Well, ladies and gentlemen, that was an unprecedented start to Alberta Wrestling Federation’s Tuesday Night PrimeTime. Good evening - I am Lance Storm, alongside multi-time wrestling world champion Christian Cage to guide you through our fourth edition and first after AWF Gold Rush. There you saw, we crowned our first World’s Champion on that occasion, one Priscilla Kelly, in controversial fashion. Tonight, thirteen men and women will get into that ring in the Gauntlet for the Gold to determine her first number one contender, to face her in two weeks here on PrimeTime.
Lance stops to allow Christian a word, but all his partner can do is turn his incredulous gaze from the camera to the side of Storm’s face. The play-by-play continues his job.
Lance Storm: We are live from the Tacoma Dome in Tacoma, Washington at the start of our Western World Tour. We will have limited commercials - just three, which we are about to take. But when we come back, we see the debut of veteran tag team the Ring Crew, against Chuck Taylor & Trent Beretta: the Best Friends.
Lance Storm’s speech is ended to allow for the commercial fade out, but first we are to a vignette. Fade into a dark room. No lights are on, but there is a slight illumination coming from a laptop. Lucas is laying down under a blanket on one of Priscilla Kelly’s many leather couches, getting in his nightly viewing of “Simon Gotch Buries Enzo Amore” on Youtube. He yawns as the sultry tones of Simon Gotch begin to put him to sleep. His eyelids grow heavy as he starts to nod off. Right before he slips into the sweet embrace of the night he notices a video labeled in his recommendations. “Orange Cassidy Shoot Interview”, the thumbnail was a picture of Orange and the release date was about an hour earlier.
Lucas
That’s weird, these usually don’t happen while the wrestler is signed to a major promotion. Maybe it’s an old one they are only releasing now.
Lucas clicks on the suggested video and immediately he is greeted by freshly squeezed. It looks like the video was shot in a hotel room, not like a cheap hotel room, but definitely one that wasn’t expensive, like an Econolodge. Orange is sitting in an armchair and they are doing that thing where it is shot from a front facing angle, but the interviewer is like diagonal of the guest, so Orange is facing him, not the camera. Orange is in his normal getup, glasses and all.
Interviewer
Thanks for taking time from your busy AWF schedule to sit down with us Orange.
Orange says nothing.
Interviewer
Uh...so you are billed from Wherever, but where did you grow up?
Orange Cassidy
New Jersey.
Orange slumps ever so slightly in the chair.
Interviewer
Is that where you currently reside?
Orange Cassidy
No.
Interviewer
Well, then where do you currently live.
Orange Cassidy
With the Best Friends.
Orange pulls his silver cigarette case out and takes a cigarette. He then grabs his lighter from his other pocket.
Orange Cassidy
Can I smoke in here?
Interviewer
No, I don’t think so.
Orange Cassidy
Cool.
Orange puts the cigarette in his mouth and lights it up anyway.
Someone off camera
There goes our chances of coming back here.
Interviewer
Shhhhh, now Orange, how did you get your start? Who trained you?
Orange Cassidy
Quackenbush.
Interviewer
Is that it? What training school did you attend?
Orange Cassidy
Hero.
Interviewer
Like Chris Hero? Or was that the name of the school?
Orange Cassidy says nothing.
Lucas yawns on the other side of the screen, it’s getting late and he should be getting to sleep. He skips ahead in the video, Orange Cassidy is slumped lower in the chair.
Interviewer
Is it true that Cody made sure there was a giant portrait of him hanging in the AEW locker room at all times?
Lucas skips forward in the video, Orange is lower in the chair than he was previously.
Interviewer
You have gone on record to say that Tony Khan is one of the lizard people,...
Lucas skips forward in the video, Orange is lower in the chair than the last shot.
Interviewer
Sunny once said about you…
Lucas lets out a big yawn, he skips towards the last couple of minutes. Orange is only visible from the nose up now.
Interviewer
Last question, at the time of recording you just competed at AWF Gold Rush and are heading into the next episode of primetime. Is there anything you want to see in regards to your opponent at Gold Rush, Christina King, or your opponent at PrimeTime, Raging Dead?
Orange looks as if he is about to speak when his phone goes off. His ringtone is Escape (The Piña Colada Song). He picks it up and puts it on speaker.
Chuck Taylor
Hey man, we haven’t really talked about AWF stuff since the last show, so I wanted to touch base.
Orange turns to face the camera and moves his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose, so his eyes are staring right into the camera.
Chuck Taylor
Just want to make sure I get the name of the event and your opponent mentioned before we continue. You are facing Raging Dead in a no disqualification match on Primetime four. What the hell is wrong with that dude? Like he didn’t say anything last week and he tries to injure a chick and then tries to cave your head in. Oh wait, I remember, he did say something last week.
Chuck Taylor puts on a voice like when The Rock made fun of Rikishi.
Chuck Taylor
Like my niece says...let madness...reign…
Chuck’s voice goes back to normal.
Chuck Taylor
Like what the actual fuck is that garbage? Apparently madness doesn’t reign, cause your niece quit and your newest member left. I thought the Madlad family was supposed to be all tough and scary?
Chuck’s voice now carries more anger.
Chuck Taylor
And did you listen to his Dead 7/11 podcast? I didn’t but I read someone’s right up on reddit. Apparently he called you a fraud, bet he came up with that one on his own. Also he said some dumb shit about you stealing his gimmick from a show he did in the 90’s, which is just ridiculous. What gimmick? This is your way of life. Yeah, you may have been Fire Ant, but that was a gimmick, that was a persona. Orange is a real person. Also, he said that his gimmick was a rip off of the veggietales characters, the pirates who don’t do anything. The pilot aired in 1991 and veggietales didn’t release until 1993, so he is absolutely full of shit with that lame story.
Chuck’s voice is getting louder as Orange continues to stare down the camera.
Chuck Taylor
You know what else he is full of shit with, his niece. She tried every dirty trick in the book and it didn’t work, you planted her on her top of her head and pinned her in the ring. If she is his protege then he must be a shit teacher. I guess he taught her all he learned after spending thirty years being a big fish in a little pond, attack people for no fucking reason and quit when something doesn’t go your way.
Chuck is now shouting into the phone.
Chuck Taylor
And he called you a muppet! He’s a muppet and he’ll be calling you Jim Henson when you shove your hand up his ass and make his mouth move! He is not going to run roughshod over this company and do whatever he wants! If he tries there is always gonna be three fucking fittatas in the way to stop him! He’s an old man with dementia and you’re gonna take him out behind the woodshed to put him down!
The obvious noise of a chair smashing can be heard over the phone followed by heavy breathing. Chuck’s tone of voice is much more calm and quieter.
Chuck Taylor
I think I blacked out for a second, are we still on the same page for PrimeTime?
Orange slides his glasses back into place and gives a lazy thumbs up.
Chuck Taylor
Alright cool, see you in Tacoma.
Orange hangs up the phone and walks off camera.
Lucas closes the tab and shuts the laptop.
Lucas
Wait till I tell Auntie Priscilla about this in the morning.
Lucas puts the laptop to the side of the couch and falls asleep.
The following preview of ‘Rage 25/8’ is brought to you by iHeartRadio.
Our adventure begins in the living room of the man you know as The Raging Dead. With renovations to CCWA&ICE beginning, he is recording his podcast from a Lazy Boy recliner today. Before he does so, his wife Sara enters the room with a tray.
Nathan
You didn't have to do that.
Sara
You need to relax before your trip out west. I brought you… Game Fuel, beef jerky, Skittles… and the last Twinkie.
Nathan
The last Twinkie on Earth?!
Sara
Just the last one from the pantry.
Nathan
Ohhhh. That makes sense.
Sara
Try to get Rage 25/8 done soonly. You've got a flight to catch.
Nathan
No promises.
She chuckles her way out of the living room and...
[PLAY]
Nathan
Hello and welcome to another episode of Rage 25/8, right here on iHeartRadio. Exciting episode? Ehhh. I am your host… The Raging Dead. On today's episode… I want to talk briefly about MadClan… and how our history has an annoying way of repeating itself. Last year… MadClan banded together in Trinity Wrestling… and the company folded. We went to Action Wrestling and… within a few weeks… half of MadClan left. Now here… same story. I don't have a clear understanding of what's going on with us… but for now… I'm the last mad standing.
Last MAD standing? Sure, I'll own that. At my age… moreso the age of my brain… I slip up with some words or thoughts at times. Ya ever had a stroke? It's not great. So, MadClan appears to be no more… for now. You never know what the future holds… but you can probably put money on MadClan banding together and then falling apart soon after. With that all in the past… what is there to look forward to? Well, I've still got the AWF Provincial Championship to worry about… with a no disqualification match as a roadblock.
You may have noticed I'm a bit old school when it comes to my approach to this business. I'm trying to adapt, as evident by this here podcast… but what I will NOT abandon is shooting. That's at the very core of what this is all about. I have done this for decades… and will continue to do it until I'm ready to hang up my boots later this year. I'll be honest with you all… as always. I'm no good at vignettes. I'm no good at song and dance. I'm no good at slap ass and tickle taint. If you put me out there with the likes of… oh… Orange Cassidy… then it's going to be a trainwreck… but if you take away any chance of getting disqualified… then I'm all in!
Yes… I DO realize this stipulation ALSO benefits Orange Cassidy. Since he cannot go anywhere without his state appointed keepers… I am prepared to ALSO fight Trent and Chuck. They're always hanging around… holding hands… keeping their goofball pal out of trouble. Tomorrow night… he's got a whole mess of trouble to worry about. I am THE Raging Dead, once and future dead king! I am what goes bump in the night! I am… I am… tired. I'm exhausted by this schedule and also thankful that this is my final year. Pockets is pretty lucky to be one of my final opponents… but he doesn't seem to care about anything… at all.
Orange Cassidy… cat got your tongue? Do your Best Friends have to fight ALL your battles for you? That's unfortunate. You could have been something truly special… but instead you do that stupid thing with your pockets and people cream their shorts. Oh. Damn. Is that REALLY all I've got on you? Do I have to dig a little deeper at you to put myself over the top? That's all that REALLY matters about you, kid. In decades to come… your legacy will simply be… pockets. Mine will be decades of domination. Endless evolution and adaptability. Countless superstars who have been trained by yours truly. My legacy is about the powerful moments I have shared with the fans over the years. Your legacy is about… ugh… pockets.
This is as exciting for me as watching you put on sunglasses. So why would I even bother with you anymore? Am I so inclined to think that if your Best Friends could give out another retort you might actually put me in my place? Neither of them is exactly a wordsmith… but they do a decent job of operating the Google machine. I believe it was the flabby friend who pointed out that my VeggieTales tale was bullshit… and he's partially correct. I did not explain the backstory enough. See, I knew Phil from an early test of VeggieTales in 1990. I was 15… and I answered a casting call for voice acting. I did okay with remembering my lines… but when it came to singing… I bombed. I didn't make it past the first round… but I did catch a glimpse of some story ideas. One of them was… you guessed it… Pirates Who Don't Do Anything. I told my trainer about it… and he joked about it with the guy who wrote the FOWL TV pilot.
Was all of that necessary to explain? Absolutely not. Any rebuttal to flabby friend is an absolute waste of my time. What I should be doing is dig down deep and resurrect the monster within who can eviscerate Orange Cassidy within minutes. There is something lying dormant who can peel the flesh back and pick the meat off bones like a piranha. He is not generally welcome inside of a squared circle… but we may have to test out if there really ARE no disqualifications. If I unleash the beast tomorrow night… what can you even do about it, Orange Cassidy? Smite thine evil, young slayer! Oh… that's Buffy. Get jacked and fight forces of evil with your long, majestic hair! Oh… that's Hercules. Damn it!
I'm just trying to help you out, sport. Your schtick is one dimensional and eventually… they will tire of you. Flabby friend and headband friend are better off without you. You're more of a fool that I thought if you believe you truly matter to them. While they will probably be by your side tomorrow night… they can't truly save you from what's coming. I spare nothing and leave nothing in the wake of my destruction. Zero sympathy. Zero tolerance for the weak. Zero fear of the unknown, which is how I see you. You seem to have to have no fear, Orange Cassidy. You want to face me without fear? You want to prove that nothing is too daunting, too frightening for you? Have you ever stared into the face of pure evil and realized that all hope was lost, that everything you thought you were would be picked apart piece by piece? I don't just shred people, I eliminate their hope and spirit. I drain their morale until there is nothing left but a hollow emptiness that creates an infinite void, breaking them as a whole and crushing them as a whole. A shell can't fight and a broken spirit can't win.
I must break you, Orange Cassidy. You may not get that reference. It's from a movie I first watched when I was ten years old. Have one of your pals Google that. I've been called a cliché before. I've also been called unoriginal, too. Maybe I am unoriginal… but I do it originally. I take what was… and make it… More. I provide a fresh spin on old tricks. Only difference is… I'm not using tricks. No smoke. No mirrors. Just a raw… gruesome… terrifying experience that few have happily walked away from. Are you prepared to be my assistant, Orange Cassidy? Tomorrow… I will drive a sword through you… saw you in half… cut off your head… whatever it takes. Maybe I'll even defy the laws of gravity. I will never reveal the secrets behind my magic like that prick Val Valentino.
We are very different beings, Orange Cassidy. You coast through life and I make life happen. I know exactly what I'm doing at all times… and you just… exist in the moment. Do you think everything I've said is just talk? Oh no, Pockets. I am fully prepared to walk the walk tomorrow. There is nothing that will prepare you for what's coming. Not a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice. Not a hand holding session with your Best Friends. You are not set up us the bomb. All your base are belong to Gust. You have no chance to survive make your time.
No… I didn't have another stroke. That's a reference to… oh… nevermind. All of this will go over your head as usual. What you need to understand is that everything that happens to you tomorrow is your own fault. You are responsible for your own destruction. You destroyed my niece's spirit… and that was the catalyst for your demise. Christina will find great success elsewhere… beyond your wildest imagination. I just can't imagine that your imagination is anything even remotely wild. You stand no chance tomorrow night and I'm going to make sure that---
[STOP]
A fade to a return to the commentary booth. Christian still seems somewhat flabbergasted.
Lance Storm: Welcome back to AWF Tuesday Night PrimeTime. Lance Storm with Christian Cage here. Before we get to our opening match, the federation wants to send its apologies to several members of our ring crew and their families following a, well… misunderstanding earlier. Have a look.
The camera frame is fixed on a set of double doors leading to the parking lot of the Tacoma Dome. A large *CHUNK* can be heard as the doors burst open from the outside. The sudden brightness initially blinds the camera for a moment, before eventually self correcting itself to show 4 figures. The two in the middle, both known as being one of the Best Friends, are wearing black pants, with white stripes, and suspenders. Chucks being white, and Trents being black. On the face of each superstar are a pair of small, round sunglasses.
One hand of each man is pulling along a rolling luggage bag, while a good looking girl is hanging off the other. As they take a couple steps inside, they both turn towards their lady friends, before pushing them out of the doors before they close. The two pals smirk at each other as Trent motions his head further into the venue. They soberly walk with as much cool swagger as they can. As they walk by one of the maintenance workers, Chuck swipes away the can of Mountain Dew the man was drinking. Chuck takes one sip out of the can, before throwing the can into a garbage bin they pass.
Eventually the men reach the big board that was the night's match ups on it. In unison, they start at the top of the list, and work their way down. They both see the match:
TAG TEAM MATCH: BEST FRIENDS VS RING CREW
They stare at the board for a second, then slowly look at each other, before shifting their focus back to the board. Chuck looks closer at the board, slowly takes his glasses off, then looks at his best friend.
Chuck
We gotta go against the whole motherfucking Ring Crew?
Trent shifts his sunglasses to the tip of his nose.
Trent
That can’t be right? That’s like, 15 people. How are we supposed to do that?
Chuck
I know, it might be even worse than that. I think there’s 16 people on the ring crew here! This is some Sweet Kentucky Fried bullshit right here! I know we’re the best and all, but is this what Bruce Hart does to his top guys?
Chuck takes the sunglasses he was holding, and snaps them over his knee, then throws then at his feet.
Trent
What are you doing? Those cost like $4.99 at the airport! You need to calm down for a moment.
Chuck
Calm down? CALM DOWN?!?! Brother, I am hot right now, alright, and I need some answers. Someone around here has to know something. I’m going on a witch hunt here, and I ain’t stopping until I get what I want!
Chuck leaves his suitcase at the foot of the board, before walking off down a hallway with a brisk pace. Trent looks to go follow Chuck, but notices that he left his luggage there. He sighs and grabs it for him, now pulling both bags behind him, and jogs to catch up with Chuck.
They reach two guys talking to each other and drinking cups of coffee outside of a maintenance closet. The Kentucky Gentleman squares himself towards the two guys.
Chuck
Hey Bean Heads, do you know what the deal is with our match tonight?
Both men look at Chuck with confusion.
Guy #1
Why would we know?
Guy #2
Yeah, we’re just a couple of Ring Crew workers.
Chucks face starts to get red with anger as he looks at the two men.
Chuck
Did you just say, Ring Crew?
Before the workers can react, Chuck shoves them both into the closet. He reaches in and grabs the door to slam it shut. Luckily for Chuck, this was one of those heavy doors that had the latch type lock at the top of the door. He latches the door locks, then triumphantly looks back at Trent with a big, cheesy smile on his face. Trent looks back with horror on his face.
Trent
What was that for?
Chuck’s smile doesn’t leave his face.
Chuck
Think about it, if we gotta fight the whole Crew, we might as well make our odds a little bit better right? That’s two less guys that we have to go up against now. That’s using our ol’ heads there Greggie Boy!
Chuck taps on the side of his head.
Chuck
We should go find some more members of the setup crew, try to even it up a little bit more. What do you say?
Trent
Fine. I guess it really is our only chance of winning tonight.
The two start to walk further down the hallway, Trent still pulling both his and Chucks bags behind him. A few shouts can be heard from behind the newly locked door. They roll up on 3 people all sitting at a table, all wearing black shirts with “AWF RING CREW” on the back of them, and eating the catering provided. Trent releases one of the bags and chops Chuck across the chest.
Trent
Leave this one up to me big guy. I got something up my sleeve for these fools.
Trent lets go of the other bag, letting it fall to the ground. He stands up straight, then seems to shake a bit, as if trying to get into a certain character. He takes a moment before walking straight towards the group.
Trent
Hey guys, what up?
The group all seems to respond with general “Hey”s and “What’s going on?”, but Trent just stands there, not knowing what to do next, clearly not having a plan. Eventually he just points at one of the plates they are eating off of.
Trent
So, Sesame Chicken, huh? Good stuff.
At this point, the group just shows obvious signs of being uncomfortable, and all turn away from him to go back to talking and eating their meals, hoping he will just leave if they ignore him.. Trent turns around to Chuck and motions to him that he needs some help. Chuck just shakes his head, leaving it all up to Trent to handle.
Trent
Hey, what I mean is, there’s a fire here. Yeah, a big fire, whole place is gonna go down, it’s gonna be nuts, absolute hell. You guys gotta get outta here, and fast. In fact, better start going now. Hurry!
One of the workers stands up and walks over to Trent.
Worker
What the hell do you mean? Get outta here man, we’re trying to eat.
Trying to think fast, Trent all of a sudden grabs the guy and puts him in a sleeper hold, but it doesn’t last very long, as the 2 others get up right away and push Trent off. They shout at him to piss off. Trent walks back to Chuck defeated.
Chuck
What happened brother? I thought you said you had that one.
Trent
I thought I did man, but I lost it. Now what do we do?
Chuck
(Throwing his arms in the air) God! This is so unfair! How can Brucer T do this to his tag team champions?
Trent grabs Chuck by the shoulders and shakes him
Trent
Get yourself together man! We can do this.....together.
Trent extends his hand towards Chuck. Chuck looks down at Trent's hand, then back into Trent's eyes.
Chuck
Together
They grasp hands, face the men and walk towards them. Right as they are about to get in arms length, Chuck stops in his tracks as Trent is jerked backwards from the loss of momentum.
Trent
Chuck! We can do this! The power of our friendship will get us through this, it's gotten us through tougher times before. Remember Bangladesh? Remember Laos? Member the French Riviera?
Chuck
(With his head down) I remember…
Trent
We've been through so much shit. Defeated mighty tag teams with a kick. Now it's time to knock these fuckers down!
Chuck and Trent embrace in a tight bear hug. Mere feet away the group are watching the events unfold.
Guy #3
Jesus Christ what are these guys doing?
Guy #4
I don't know but it's freaking me out, let's go eat somewhere else.
The three men get up and waddle off. Trent and Chuck break up the hug and charge towards the now empty chairs. They both stop and skid almost sliding into the furniture.
Trent
Well, that solves that. Now what?
Chuck
(with a slight tear in his eye) Let's keep going
Trent
What?
Chuck nods his head towards a door. On it a sign reads "Ring Crew Staging Area"
Trent
Are you sure?
Chuck
Yeah
Trent and Chuck grab hands again. They each pick up a steel folding chair and head towards the door. They reach the sign, Chuck gives it a big boot as it flings open, inside are several men in all black with AWF Ring Crew T-Shirts on. Both men scream at the top of their lungs while holding hands running into the room, chairs cocked back as far as they can. They take a mighty swing as the scene fades to white, then back to the commentary booth.
Christian looks shook yet again, with his hands spread. Lance tries to speak, before the camera immediately cuts him off.
In the backstage area of the Tacoma Dome strolls one Orange Cassidy to a canned roar of the crowd. He is wearing his normal getup of denim jacket, AWF Best Friends shirt and jeans. Ya know what, just assume he's always wearing that unless I state otherwise. Orange looks up at a clock that is hanging on the wall. It's five minutes before the show starts.
Orange Cassidy's Internal Monologue
Need to kill some time, but don't wanna bother Chuck and Trent.
Orange looks around and sees the catering area. He slowly walks over and takes a seat at one of the tables, there is a tv in the corner that is playing the show. Orange puts his feet on the table and leans back in his chair to try to catch a look at what might be on the broadcast.
Orange Cassidy's Internal Monologue
I'm on next, so I can't stay for long
A few of the AWF staff members walk past, chitchatting as they go.
AWF Staff Member
Did you listen to the new Episode of Dead 25/8? Raging Dead was so intense, he sounded like he really wants to hurt Orange Cassidy. Poor guy...
Orange sighs as he glances over at the television, the vignette taking over the screen.
Pyro
Go away.
The lump under the pile of blankets grumbled, reluctant to leave the sanctuary of his bedroom, or the relative warmth of his bed. The knocking continued, despite his best effort to ignore it.
Pyro
Slava!
He threw his head back and bellowed, expecting his partner in all things to have already answered. The knocking continued, more insistent this time.
Pyro
FOR FUCK'S SAKE!
His feet hit the floor, noticing the coolness of the hardwood beneath the bare soles. Someone had been playing with the thermostat again. Someone would need a talking to.
Shirtless, Pyro padded to the door, the camera following along from behind. He was still half-asleep, barely with it and he'd already undone the security latch before a large, beefy hand appeared in front of his face, keeping the door from opening.
Enigma
Tvoya maska!
(Your mask!)
Pyro immediately snatched a hoodie from the hook beside the door and threw it over his head, disappearing from sight while the big, bald man fiddled with the door. He couldn't figure out how to activate the camera to see who was out there so he finally shrugged and opened the door.
Enigma
Hello, friend!
A camera crew stood at the bottom of the steps, milling around with their equipment. A pimple-faced intern stood in the doorway with a clipboard in hand.
Intern
Oh, hi. Are you… Peter… uhhhh… Vlad… uhhhmm… Vladimir-
Enigma
Pyotr Vladimirovich?
The kid nodded. The mountain of a man nodded. The kid turned and gestured for the crew to climb the steps and Enigma stepped back like a gentleman and let them walk right in.
Pyro
Who was at the-
The last word fell from his lips as something almost forgotten, the train of thought derailing with a huge path of wreckage. At least he looked presentable in his mask, now wearing the hoodie, partway zipped to maximize how well his chest looked in the morning sunlight.
Pyro
…door?
Intern
We're here, sorry just a little late, we had a bit of trouble finding the place.
The masked man looked at Enigma who was staring at the equipment like a kid on Christmas morning.
Pyro
Might help if I knew who 'we' are…
Intern
Oh my God, I'm so sorry. You must've forgotten. This was all set up through your secretary. A Mr. Slave?
Pyro
Slava.
He corrected automatically, wheeling around and storming over to the big man. Hands on his hips, he glared. When the mountain didn't move or even look away from watching a man set up a boom mic, Pyro slapped him hard across the chest, leaving a red mark.
Pyro
What did you do? Who are these people?
Intern
We're from CraveTV. It used to just be a Bell Canada thing but then HBO bought it or something so now…
Pyro
What?
INTERN:
We're like… a streaming service. Anyhow, we're from a new show, and we chronicle-
Pyro
What?!
Intern
We left you a message last night, reminding you that we'd be shooting today.
Pyro glanced over his shoulder, at the answering machine resting on the counter. He could see the blinking light from here. He didn't even realize the thing was still connected, that they still had a landline phone that worked in this house.
Pyro
Oh. What are we shooting?
Intern
Wow, so like you don't even know. Ok, my name's Carson Bilson, and I'm the host of what's gonna be this Fall's top new show. It's called STAR STRUCK.
Pyro
WHAT?!
Intern
Star Struck. It's like, where we bring in a fan, and let them hang out with their favorite star for like the whole day, and we record it and stuff. Let people meet their heroes…
Camera Guy
(under his breath) …and find out what big douches they are.
Enigma closed the door, looking joyful even though Pyro shot him a withering glare.
Pyro
I am not a fan of reality TV.
Enigma
Carole Baskin... killed her husband, whacked him…
Pyro
That is different, Slava.
Intern
So, like do you guys want us to set up here?
Pyro
So, I suppose I'm obligated to go through with this, aren't I?
Enigma
We did not have press. We did not have a match in Calgary like you promised. This is next best thing. We will become viral, like pandemic…. but not deadly.
Pyro
Where's the fan?
Intern
There were some problems in wardrobe or something. He's on his way..
Pyro
Fine. I'm going to take a shower. Don't touch anything, or I'll break your fingers.
He stormed from the room, slamming the bathroom door hard enough to rattle the windows. The kid turned to Enigma.
Intern
So, uhhhh… what's the thing here? Are you guys into drag or something?
Enigma
Like RuPaul? I like him. He is very nice. Very pretty lady.
Intern
No… but like… what's the deal here? Who are you guys?
Enigma
We… wrestle. Sometimes together. Sometimes with others. They are going to pay us again and we will be rich beyond our wildest dreams.
The kid nodded as though that made perfect sense, gesturing to the cameraman.
Intern
Told you they were X-Tube guys. This one's obviously a bear. Pay up, man. I fuckin' knew it.
Enigma
I wrestled a bear once. I do not recommend…
TO BE CONTINUED ON EPISODE 1 OF STAR STRUCK
COMING SOON TO CRAVETV AND HULU.
A crossfade back to Orange Cassidy when a figure sits across the table from him, putting down its coffee.
Unknown Voice
Hey Kid...
Orange looks to see it's Bruce Hart! Orange takes his feet off the table as a sign of respect.
Bruce Hart
I've been watching your work. I think you are a real one of a kind talent.
OC is taken aback that one of his childhood heroes, Bruce Hart, is giving him this kind of praise.
Bruce Hart
I gotta give you a bit of advice kid. These opponents of yours, you let them treat you like a rag-doll. I know it's your shtick to not do much and I get that, but if these people have a clear intent to hurt you, you gotta fight back.
Orange opens his mouth as if he is about to reply, but Bruce continues.
Bruce Hart
Like in your match with Dyno-Mike, you just let him batter and scar you. Yeah you turned his brain into grey-matter, only after he tried to turn your face into a Picasso. When you know you are going into a serious situation, you gotta take it seriously. Here.
Bruce Hart slides his coffee cup across the table to OC, who looks at it with big eyes. Orange picks up the cup and stares at it, before slowly moving it to his mouth. As the hot brown liquid touches his lips, the familiar burn covers his entire body.
Rough Male Voice
]You're worthless!
Bruce Hart
You gotta use everything you got!
Orange's body continues to burn.
Rough Male Voice
You're made me do this!
Bruce Hart
You gotta make them pay for what they do to you!
Orange keeps drinking the coffee, the burn intensifying.
Rough Male Voice
You're a waste of life!
Bruce Hart
You gotta prove why you're one of the best!
As the cup becomes empty, the last drops passing through the lips of Orange Cassidy. The burning stops and his mind goes quiet. The burn is replaced with the feeling of rage and his mind is going a mile a minute.
A small smirk comes across the face of Bruce.
Bruce Hart
Now you're ready kid! How do you feel?
Orange says nothing as he breathes heavily and his heart beats out of his chest. From behind where Bruce is sitting, Orange sees that The Raging Dead is making way past gorilla, still in his street clothes.
Orange Cassidy
Why wait for a ref?
Orange stands up quickly and makes his way towards Raging Dead.
Bruce Hart
Hey kid!
Orange turns around to face him.
Bruce Hart
You might need this!
Bruce Hart tosses a steel pipe to Orange. He catches it then faces Bruce with a confused look.
Orange Cassidy
Why do you just carry around a steel pipe?
Bruce Hart gives a lazy thumbs up and then Orange Cassidy turns to hunt down Raging Dead. His steps are quiet, but Dead’s instincts must tell him something as he turns just at the right time to guard his face -- but Orange’s rage has his instincts on high as well, as proven by the swift gut shut to the exposed torso!
Lance Storm: I think Christian is having a stroke at all this pandemonium, and this won’t help it.
The pipe bends when wailed against Dead’s back, dropping him to one knee. The camera handler steps back to allow distance when Commissioner Booker can be suddenly seen pulling referee Cal Elton to the ordeal, then looking into the camera.
Booker T: Start it now, hell! (towards camera handler) Keep up!
Ding!
Booker’s out of the frame as one more steel pipe blow lands across Dead’s back then another. Cassidy chucks the pipe then grabs at the man’s head, forcing him from his kneeling position into the steel middle beam part of the nearest double door. Dead’s head reverberates right back into Cassidy’s head who tries to slam it on a nearby wooden table, but Dead slams both hands down as as block, before jamming four quick elbows to Cassidy’s gut and giving him the table head slam. He doesn’t let go of his grip and slams the head down again!
Raging Dead: Oh, kid, you wanna play like that?!
Another head slam, this one breaking the bridge of Cassidy’s shades. An elbow to the back of the head leaves Cassidy on the table.
Raging Dead: Let madness reign! Let madness reign this whole night!
One more head slam, then another before he lets loose of the grip, only to pull a knee up into Cassidy’s midsection. He drags him by the hair toward Gorilla, but as they get there Orange turns it around and Dead’s head is sent flying into a metal pole holding up part of the curtain. It’s sturdy, luckily for the position, but not for Raging, who eats a sandwich between Cassidy’s dropkick and that same pole! The Best Friends have suddenly come from deeper into the position, where the producers sit, since they were on next, but back away when they see Cassidy has everything in hand.
Lance Storm: The Best Friends, as they should, letting Orange fight his own fights. It’s one-on-one here.
Dead crawls to another nearby pole then the steps to the stage, before Cassidy dropkicks him in the back up them. His body awkwardly rolls over and then on all fours again, but Cassidy drops him with a flying knee to his face. Groggy, he’s at Orange’s liberty as he gets thrown through the curtain, the cut to the arena showing Dead flying out and the crowd wildly on their feet.
Lance Storm: We’re at least getting closer to the ring.
Dead forces himself to recover quickly despite the obvious daze, getting to his feet and meeting a charging Cassidy with a kick to the gut - sudden snap DDT on the metal! Cassidy pops up and the wound he’s had since Dyno-Mike PrimeTime III attack has been reopened! The crowd boos, on one man’s side at this point.
Dead takes only a second to recover before he’s back on his feet and stomping away at the downed body. He pulls Orange to all fours, only to grab onto his body and force a few knees of his own into Orange’s face, each shot worsening the bloody area. He doesn’t let Cassidy’s body on the fifth and last, instead sending his head into a steel part of the entrance area, then sending the body rolling down the ramp. As it stops, Dead kicks it down further, having to do this four times before the end of the ramp is reached.
Once they’re there, Dead immediately makes off toward the steel steps, breaking them apart as soon as he reaches them. The crowd’s furor grows.
Lance Storm: Those steps weigh hundreds of pounds, so whatever he’s got planned is no good at all.
Although it looks like Orange’s head is about to be jottled by the steps, another smart dropkick, but to the knee, sends the steps to the first lean of the ramp, Dead falling on his knees, his chin clattering down! Blood spittles from his mouth as his head bounds back, the back of it hitting the arena floor hard on the back bump. The referee’s attempt to check on the veteran is pushed off by Caissdy, who drops the steps flat as they sit naturally to put Dead facedown on top. With a smooth motion, he hops to the top of the arena barricade and cannonballs into a leg-drop across the neck!
Lance Storm: My goodness this is brutal! Orange Cassidy himself is gripping at the right hamstring and the referee is trying to check up on both, but the carnage is unlike anything we’ve yet seen here in AWF!
It takes Orange Cassidy over ninety seconds and the help of the barricade for him to be the first up, as Dead can only manage a weak neck pull up under glazed, lost, unsure eyes. Cassidy watches as his foe spittles up blood, the sight seemingly fuel for the concrete converse to the face that reverberates the back of Raging Dead’s head back off the arena floor.
Lance Storm: Orange is gripping at that hamstring again after using it for that strike, but he’s trying to walk toward the ring.
It takes him a while, a limp he was not expecting coming against him. Limp or not, it doesn’t change the look of determination on his face as he takes the time he needs to get to the ring and rummage under the ring to find a large wrench!
Lance Storm: There are nothing but bad intentions running throughout this one.
When he turns around after a small backwards hop, he’s met by a furious Raging Dead who has managed his way up through a sick second wind, pitching Cassidy’s body from a t-bone suplex back first onto the steel steps! The crowd gasps at the way his back bends, then slumps over until he falls seemingly lifeless with his face to the floor. Raging Dead turns to look at his work, then succumbing to the earlier onslaught with a Ric Flair front bump.
The camera pans to show the sold arena who begin to clap their two gladiators on, the two men laying lifeless for over forty seconds before they begin to stir at the same time, motioning to opposite barricades toward the end of the ramp. Tacoma chants them both on as they have to take another twenty seconds to use them to pull themselves up, then suddenly manage to clock each other at the same time with right hands that stagger them both back.
Cassidy lands a gut kick that stuns Dead enough for Orange to begin a hair-pull toward the ring, but Dead turns it around, only for Cassidy to turn it back around -- with Dead putting a veterans’ instinct to turn it around again, only this time dipping and gripping at the right hamstring in an uncomfortable looking dragonscrew legwhip!
Lance Storm: Raging Dead has been in nearly every situation there has been to be in, at least once, as proof there.
Dead’s like a ravenous animal with his grabbing and throwing Cassidy into the ring, where he rolls to the center before attempting to stagger to his feet. Before he can get a swing in, Dead has grabbed his head and has no regard for self with the headbutt to the open wound! Orange soon finds himself in a clutch he doesn’t want to be in - head tucked beneath Cassidy’s legs, in cradle piledriver position -- DEAD WEIGHT! He doesn’t let Cassidy’s body go on the bounce, instead pinning the shoulders down from the position!
Cal Elton: ONE!.........
TWO!...........
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Mark Beverly: The winner of this match: RAGI--
Before Beverly can finish his announcement, Dead is in that familiar rabid fury, grabbing at Orange and hurling up and over the top rope to the outside! Cassidy’s body rolls and crashes into the announce booth, back first and his bad hamstring wrapping around the edge without any give!
Raging Dead d. Orange Cassidy in 10:24
The crowd that was starting to come back around to the Ozone Park native immediately turn back to the familiar boos that followed him out of Gold Rush.
Lance Storm: There’s absolutely no need for this.
Christian can be seen -- incredulous. Dead has exited the ring, his stalking eyes never losing sight of the man that had the gall to attack him with a steel pipe while the man was still in his damn jeans. The two angry bear-like paws that wrap around Cassidy’s bloody head make a perfect target for one more headbutt, then a third, and a fourth, before Dead let's go and allows the body to drop.
The Best Friends are there to meet him by the time he begins stripping the announce table, Christian bouncing around with a shocked look but still stunned silent. They club him at the time with forearms to the back of the head! Without a second thought, they’re both wailing away with punch after punch, setting Raging Dead himself up for a maneuver!
Chuck begins to hold down Dead’s legs as Trent sends a series of elbows to the face, a roll into the ring following!
Lance Storm: What are we about to see? Christian? Christian?!
Trent plants his feet and does a second take before deciding on anything….
His feet shift….
AND IT’S ENIGMA FROM BEHIND PUSHING HIM OFF THE TURNBUCKLE AND HURLING INTO THE CORNER OF THE BARRICADE!
Lance Storm: Enigma! From nowhere!
Before Taylor can react to anything, Pyro has come behind him and whacked him in the back of the skull with a recognizable bent steel pipe!
A sudden cut to the stage where we see Commissioner Booker yet again, pulling out Wilford Daniels and issuing him toward the ring. As if he were Charles Robinson, he slides in just in time as Chuck’s rolling body stops in the center of the ring and the boastful Pyro walks into the ring to follow.
Ding!
Cut to Enigma grabbing Trent in his arms and driving his back into the steel post, pulling back, then driving again! Limp, the body falls when he lets loose.
Cut to Pyro with an arrogant side headlock in the center of the ring, but Chuck Taylor is fighting it - before Pyro drags him down to the mat and forces him to sit it out. As Enigma climbs to his respective corner, Pyro begins to draw the hold up, Taylor taking advantage once on one knee to begin landing elbows, before Pyro sends a knee to the bridge of his nose - a move enough to daze him for an Irish whip into the corner.
Wilford Daniels: TAG!
Pyro forces a palm up under Taylor’s chin, exposing his gut for Enigma’s stiff boot to the gut, bowling over the smaller man. A stiffer right fist drops the man to a weak single knee, and before long he’s been hammer thrown into the opposite corner! Cut to the corner and ropes reverberating wildly from the impact from a view outside, Trent using that very same ringpost - their legal corner - to get to his feet.
Enigma flashes crazy eyes at Trent on the outside, who grabs at his back. Chuck is helpless in the big man’s grasp, in a powerslam position, before being brought down over the knee with a backbreaker! Taylor can’t quite get to his feet at the same time and recover enough to block Enigma’s rope-rebounded big boot to the face! Hook of the leg.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!...........
TWO!........
KICKOUT
On his come up, Taylor finds himself in the double choke grip of Enigma, who pulls him to his feet only to throw him across the ring, toward Pyro! Trent has managed his way to his respective, only to get a mush in the face from Enigma he wasn’t expecting. The big man moves quicker than expected away from any possible grip, jumping onto the middle rope with the same leg he uses to deliver the springboard knee to the skull of the recovering legal Best Friend! Another leghook.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!.............
TWO!.........
T- KICKOUT
Taylor’s attempted rise is met with another patient Enigma, who levels him with a discus elbow. A punch to Trent that he wasn’t expecting, nearly knocking him off of the apron. Enigma hooks the leg again.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
This time Enigma looks slightly aggravated and charges towards Trent, who this time expects him, dodging it and clocking the big man in face with a kick that turns him directly into Chuck’s opportunistic slingblade! The Best Friends’ first pinfall attempt!
Wilford Daniels: ONE!...........
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Trent has set up on the top rope and is off with a Heartbreak-esque diving elbow drop! Taylor rolls into the leg hook.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!..........
TWO!.....
KICKOUT
Trent’s already off the ropes with a springboard moonsault and almost stays for the cover until he realizes he can’t -- but Enigma forces him up and nearly out the ring before he can move! Back to his feet, he eats Taylor’s kick to the gut and Trent’s forearm to the face.
Wilford Daniels: Trent, get outta here! I’ll start the count!
Beretta instead runs to his corner then back with a running dropkick to the face, staggering the man back and to one knee!
Wilford Daniels: ONE!
Pyro is into the ring fast to even the numbers’ game, catching Beretta in a hurricanrana as Trent was running in for another dropkick! Just then, Taylor knee strikes Enigma in the jaw to send him back then attempts the same on Pyro, who sidesteps it -- into a springboard DDT -- no, it’s caught into a northern lights by Chuck!
Pyro rolls out of the ring as Enigma suddenly drops both Trent and Chuck with a double clothesline! He goes for the illegal man, who kicks and punches away long enough for the legal one to dropkick Enigma in the back of the head, breaking the grasp. He rebounds off the ropes, into Trent’s flapjack, into Chuck’s sitout facebuster! Trent returns to his turnbuckle as there’s a cover attempt.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!...........
TWO!.........
KICKOUT
Chuck rolls over.
Wilford Daniels: TAG!
Over the top rope and in, senton! Trent crawls back for the leghook!
Wilford Daniels: ONE!...........
TWO!........
The referee is dragged out of the ring by Pyro, and the two immediately get into an argument on the outside about it. Taylor hops off the apron to get involved.
Inside the ring, Trent continues his assault, rebounding off the ropes -- RAGING DEAD!
Lance Storm: Was that the steel pipe?!
The same bent pipe clocks Trent over the back of the head, in Dead’s possession as he suddenly pops onto the apron then back down once the deed is done! A limp body falls into Enigma’s choking grasp, and Beretta’s body is up:
Lance Storm: Questions and Answers!
The sitout chokeslam makes the whole ring shake, he keeps the sitout for the cover. Pyro forearm strikes Chuck to the ground, and the referee notices the situation.
Wilford Daniels: ONE!.............
TWO!.........
THREE!
DING DING DING
Boos follow Enigma as he rises, Pyro as he enters the ring, Raging Dead as he walks away from the situation up the ramp. Pyro orders the referee to raise their hands, which he does once he’s between the two men and facing the hard camera.
Mark Beverly: The winners of this match - Pyro and Enigma: THE! RING! CREW!
Chuck stands over Trent, trying to wake his buddy when Enigma grasps him from behind in a wheelbarrow position he can’t fight off but desperately tries as evident by his swinging arms -- until he’s put down by the Face Eraser! Hastily, Pyro raises Enigma hands along with his own, welcoming in the chorus of boos as we fade to our second to last commercial break of the night.
Ring Crew d. Best Friends in 7:08
We return to a different plane of existence.
YouTube
José Figueiras shows up on screen.
José Figueiras
Yes, I am José Figueiras
Half of the livestream count goes off because most people's WiFi can't handle pure greatness.
José Figueiras
I shit you not. I am José Figueiras
The livestream viewers count now quadruples from the original number because it's José Figueiras. José Figueiras rolls in a casket-shaped box, as well as his faithful assistant Roderick Kross.
José Figueiras
I am now going to chop Roderick Kross in half.
Roderick Kross nonchalantly climbs into the casket shaped box. José Figueiras produces a chainsaw from his back pocket and revs it up for about 10 minutes (it really goes to show how the wrestling industry has evolved so much! A few years ago,10 minutes was the longest you could upload on YouTube, and nowadays you can upload any video despite its length, giving any wrestler a different platform to promote his or his self.) before chopping Roderick Kross in half.
José Figueiras
Let's see how our friend turned out!
José Figueiras opens up the casket-shaped box and pulls out Roderick Kross, who is now a midget.
José Figueiras
Haha
Cut.
INT. LOCAL LEATHER TOUR BUS - NIGHT
Panda is driving and Ziggy is in the passenger seat (as usual) with Spud and Fringe in the back poking their heads through the gap in between. The band look ecstatic.
Panda
Oh my God lads, wow.
Fringe
I KNOW MATE!!!
Ziggy
We were on fire.
Spud
Best gig yet?
Other 3
Hell yeah!!!
The members sink into their seat in chilled jubilance. Fringe pulls out some kind of pipe and lights one end whilst puffing the other.
Fringe
Anyone want a bit of this.
Panda
What is it?
Fringe
This new hydrochronic shit a tribesman recommended, called Han N Abarbera.
Ziggy & Panda
Woh, that's cool.
Fringe takes a huge toke and the van slowly fills with smoke.
Fringe
Fancy a bit Spudsy mate?
Spud
None for me thanks pal.
Fringe
(taking another giant pull) Suit yourself.
The smoke continues to fill the van as Fringe passes the pipe to Panda who takes his tokes, who in turn gives it to Ziggy. Spud begins to curl up in a ball and get comfy in the back of the smokey van.
Fringe
I can't believe we got through most of our set this time.
Ziggy
Yeah dude, usually 2 or 3 tunes and we're out, haha.
Panda
Probably wasn't wise to play 'Highway to Hell' at a Bar Mitzvah.
Fringe and Ziggy nod along, Spud closes his eyes and falls asleep. Fade out.
Fade in. Spud awakes and a thick layer of smoke engulfs everything in the van making it impossible to see, he looks down to his hand, they feel different but he can't see them to be sure.
Spud
Can someone crack a window, I can't see a thing.
ZIGGY
(Winding down window) Sure dude.
As the smoke leaves the vehicle it forms a thick fog outside and inside, well inside looks like this:
Fringe
WOH! This shit's epic, wow.
Spud
What the fuck is going on, why do we look like this?
Fringe
Han N Abarbera, native drugs are awesome.
Ziggy and Panda smile along amazed by the 'legally distinct from Hanna Barbera' world.
A at once a comically loud bang is heard and the Local Leather tour bus halts completely.
Spud
Oh God, it's one thing after another.
Fringe
It's okay dude, just gotta ride it out.
All the lights on the dashboard flash frantically and then go off, Panda and Ziggy behave as though these are strobes at a rave, until they shut off.
Ziggy
Fucks sake, I was getting into that.
Panda
Lets get out and take a look then.
In sync the four band members get out and Panda opens bonnet of the van, as if on cue lightning strikes at that exact moment. under the hood it is clear that the engine has been bludgeoned with some kind of elaborate staff.
Panda
Right gang, we need to split up and search for clues.
Ziggy and Fringe nod along but Spud is left totally dumbfounded by this suggestion.
Spud
(Spud flales his arms and turns as he speaks) No way, are you fucking insane, wandering into the unknown without eachother, imagine the headline "Awesome British Band Murdered in Swamp".
As Spud turns back around the other members have disappeared, seemingly barely listening and having already split up.
Panda
(shouting from the distance) That's a crap headline mate.
As the rain falls Spud terrifiedly clings to the tour bus as lightning again strikes.
Spud
Nothing can get me if I'm here.
A stone flies from the nearby wooded area and hits Spud square on the head, knocking him out. Fade out.
Fade in.
EXT. EVIL FORREST - NIGHT
Spud awakes, no longer animated but in a bizarre low budget kids TV Style smoke filled forrest of evil.
Spud reacts like this:
Spud tentatively walks through the forest.
Spud
I'VE NEVER BEEN HERE BEFORE!
Spud walks to a nearby river to splash water on his face.
Spud
(As he dips his hand in) OUCH! IT'S NOT HOT! (for some reason he was expecting it to be)
Spud drops to his knees and looks up to the heavens.
Spud
WHY AM I SCREAMING EVERYTHING! WHAT IS THIS PLACE!
Evil Voice in the Distance
ROCKSTAR SPUD!!
Spud runs away from the voice. Spud runs past what looks to be "comedic" actress Leslie Jones smoking a cigarette.
BEAT
Spud runs for a solid 2 minutes in 1 direction but it's to no avail as the rules of the normal world do not apply here and once he stops running he's in the exact spot he started in.
Evil Voice in the Distance
You cannot escape that way, you rambunctious repugnant rocker, you puerile pipsqueak.
Spud stops in sudden realisation.
Spud
I KNOW YOU!
A deafening and awful screeching laugh drowns out all noise as Spud is cast 3 Shadows, 1 tiny and stumpy, 1 quite big and well built and 1 impossibly huge hulking shadow.
CUT TO.
EXT. LOCAL LEATHER TOUR BUS
They're still in the animated faze of their trip as they took more than Spud.
HANK (a mechanic) is fixing the car as Panda, Fringe and Ziggy watch on, Fringe has a can of petrol.
Hank
Good thing I was driving by for you boys eh.
Panda
You're telling me man, keep an eye out for our little friend would you.
Hank
Happens up here all the time, the fella in the cave captures people has his fun and they can usually make it to their jobs by roughly the following Tuesday morning.
Fringe
That's perfect, we'll just meet him after his match Tuesday then, gee thanks Hank.
Everyone
(Shares a weird laugh for no apparent reason.)
Hank
So who was it who smashed your van then?
Ziggy
Spuds will probably figure that out, we've got a week off!
The band all crowd and lovingly hug Hank.
FREEZE FRAME.
FADE OUT.
From a black screen a collection of bright circles suddenly appear as the Conan theme music plays.
Andy Richter
Coming to you from Warner Brothers studios in Burbank. ITS CONAN!
Tonight, from hit new show Hawaii Bone-0, Leslie Jones, Barron Boneius and Kolotov
Star of NBCs The Blacklist, James Spader
. And musical guest Lady Gaga
. Featuring Jimmy Vivino and the Basic Cable Band, I’m Andy Richer, and here’s Conan O’Brian!
Cut to the Conan studio. The camera pans over the audience then to Conan who walks on stage to mass applause. He does a little dance then takes centre stage.
Conan
Alright alright that’s enough of that. Jeez, you guys are energised tonight. You’re all up at like an 11 while the rest of us are down here at a 5. It’s a Monday come on!
Normally I’d segway this by saying, did you see this, but lets be honest, you’ve all already seen this.
Cut to a distant video of Donald Trump standing behind a podium as people around him set up cameras. A fly lands on the podium in front of him. Trump looks around then shoots his tongue out like a frog catching the fly and eating it.
Cut back to Conan's audience. An audible ‘EW’ comes from the audience.
Conan
Exactly. Yup, we are 21 hours into the week and our first headline is that the President is in fact a frog man. I tell you who I feel sorry for, the rest of the week, how do you top that. Oh sweetie you graduated, that’s great, BUT THE PRESIDENT IS A FROGMAN.
Crazy. We have a great show tonight, free of frogmen, as far as I know. So lets welcome on, the cast of Hawaii Bone-0.
The audience applauds as Leslie Jones, Barron Boneius (In a Hawaiian shirt with sunglasses and Kolotov walk onto the stage waving). Leslie looks past Conan to see James Spader shooting her a death stare. She looks confused but then sits down on the couch.
Conan
Welcome, none of you are frogmen are you?
The audience, and guests all laugh.
Conan
I think, and correct me if I’m wrong Andy, this is the first time we’ve had a skeleton on the couch.
Andy
Well unless you count the incident
Conan
(Playfully) I told you never to mention that
The audience laugh.
Conan
So I want to talk about your new show. Hawaii Bone-0, I’ve actually seen the first couple of episodes and wow. This show is wild. Boneius here, plays Detective Skull who works with Officer Jones played by Leslie here to try and solve a series of murders perpetrated by the villainous Kolotov, playing himself I believe. It’s weird, but it’s great.
Leslie Jones
Oh it’s weird! But I tell you something, this is easily the most fun I’ve had on a set.
Conan
I’m not surprised, I do want to ask the Barron, how this was for you. First acting job, and it’s playing a lead character in a major new show, you’ve gotta have some agent right.
Boneius laughs.
Barron Boneius
Those hilarious Hollywood hacks hunted me down and begged me to be a part of the show. For I, the cesspool of cruelly Barron Boneius, need no agent.
Kolotov
They actually came and spoke to all of us after the match.
Conan
I'm glad you brought this up, because we have to talk about the wrestling. That last fight blew up.
Andy Ritcher
It wasn’t the only thing (Pointing to Kolotov)
Everyone laughs raucously.
Conan
Even through you guys are meant to be the bad guys, people love you. Look at this.
Cut to outside the Conan studio, people are dressed up as Boneius and Kolotov cheering.
Conan
They’ve been here all week, it’s like I’m stuck In some Halloween groundhog day.
Boneius smiles and waves down the camera. The crowd outside are heard whooping.
Conan
Leslie! You never mentioned you were a wrestler!
Leslie flexes her guns.
Andy Ritcher
Stronger than Ghostbusters that’s for sure.
The audience all give an awkward laugh. Leslie does not look amused.
Conan
I don’t wanna spoil the magic, but it’s staged right. I mean, no offense, but you aren’t that strong.
Andy Ritcher
Yeah, like Ghostbus-
In a flash Leslie has Andy lifted above her by the throat.
Leslie Jones
Finish that sentence, I dare you.
Suddenly a small bit of golden metal flies in from the side colliding with her hand causing her to drop Andy. Everyone looks to see who threw it, it’s James Spader. Leslie especially looks confused. Slowly she looks at the bit of metal. It’s a police badge that reads “The Shield”
Leslie Jones
No
James Spader pulls off his mask to reveal. Michael Chiklis.
Michael Chikils
I’ve waited a long time for this Jones.
Leslie Jones
You couldn’t beat me in the ring and you sure as hell can’t beat me here.
Michael Chiklis
We’ll see
Boneius and Kolotov get up of the sofa and jump into a fighting stance.
Barron Boneius
Lets smash this shield.
Leslie Jones
No, you need to go back to the cave and get ready for tonight. I’ll hold him off.
Boneius and Kolotov leave the stage in a hurry. Leslie and Chiklis lock eyes.
Fade into a black and white flashback.
Micheal Chicklis and a PA are stood in the SNL greenroom, Chiklis in a hilarious chicken costume with a massive grin on his face. He’s watching the show live on a monitor. The sketch on at the moment involves Leslie Jones. Both men are laughing at the sketch. Chiklis checks his watch, he looks excited.
PA
Ready to go Mr Chiklis?
Chiklis nods. They both remain still, watching the current sketch. Chiklis checks his watch again. The PA notices
PA
Don’t worry, things always run a little over.
The sketch on screen continues. The majority of the sketch being Leslie Jones. Chiklis starts to look nervous.
PA
She’s just riffing, they do this all the time, should be over any moment.
The sketch continues and the audience continue laughing. Chiklis starts to clench his fists. Leslie continues to riff. The PA reacts to hearing something in his ear.
PA
I’m so sorry Mr –
Michael Chiklis
(Trying his best to hold in his rage) No, don’t you dare.
PA
Your sketch has been cut for time
Chiklis rips of his goofy chicken head and throws it across the room.
PA
This happens all the time, we really are all so sorry. But we’ll make sure to get you on again another show ok.
The PA leaves the room. Chiklis, full of rage, looks up to the TV to see Leslie Jones, still riffing away. He lets out a deep yell.
Fade back to the set of Conan as Chiklis stands face to face with Leslie.
Michael Chiklis
That was 6 years ago.
Leslie Jones
I don’t do the booki-
Michael Chiklis
6 years I waited! My one chance to be on SNL and you took it from me. We people of colour have to stick together!
The audience lets out an audible gasp.
Leslie Jones
What?!
Michael Chiklis
The Thing is orange.
The audience looks confused. Some nodding in approval others just looking more confused. Chiklis takes this moment to punch Leslie. Sending her flying out of the studio onto a nearby rooftop construction site. In one leap he jumps from the studio over to the site.
Michael Chiklis
I was bred to be a comedian Leslie. Trained my entire life to master my timing. Where did you train, CHAPMAN UNIVERSITY!?
Chiklis tenses then rips of the rest of the James Spader outfit revealing his ‘The Thing’ Costume under it as he starts to float in the air.
This entire fight scene plays out with Leslie as Superman and Chiklis as Zod. The two fight through the city and space until they crash into a train station.
The station is almost abandoned. Before Chiklis can fully get up Leslie gets him in a choke hold. Across from them stands Pete Davidson, Kenan Thompson and Cecily Strong. Chiklis notices the group are cornered.
Michael Chiklis
If you love SNL so much, you can mourn for it.
Chiklis starts blasting his laser eyes at the group, hitting the wall beside them but quickly advancing on them.
Leslie Jones
DON’T DO THIS.
Chiklis continues straining as the laser gets closer.
Leslie Jones
STOP.
The laser is centimetres from the cast.
Leslie Jones
STOOOP.
Michael Chiklis
Never
The laser brushes against the side of Kenan, cutting cleanly through his jacket. They all hold each other close, preparing for the end. Leslie, with tears in her eyes, realises the only way she can keep them safe.
Leslie snaps Chiklis’s neck.
His body drops to the floor. There’s a long pause before she lets out a blood curdling scream. Cecily walks up to her and places a hand on her shoulder. Leslie stands, brushing the hand away.
Cecily Strong
We won’t tell anyone.
Leslie Jones
Maybe you should.
Leslie leaps away.
Back at the forest Leslie is leaning against a tree. Her hands shaking. She takes out a cigarette. Looks at it for a long moment before lighting it and taking a puff. She hardly notices Rockstar Spud run past her.
Cut to the three SNL cast members walking through the streets. The city is in chaos, people running in fear, buildings destroyed. As they move down the street a van pulls up beside them.
Driver
Dangerous to be walking around at a time like this. Here, let me offer you a ride.
Cecily nods and the three climb into the van. The van starts down the road into the distance, but not before a familiar white gloved hand reaches out from the drivers side window and pats the top of the van.
Cut to the outside of Conan's studio in Burbank. Barron Boneius (Dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses) and Kolotov run out of the side door. As they emerge there's a loud crashing sound as Leslie Jones flies out the side of the studio into the distance. Quickly followed by Michael Chiklis.
The two run over to two parked black cars. Each getting into a different car. As soon as they sit down the cars start moving.
The Barron’s car is being driven by Snivley in a little drivers uniform, hat and all.
Snivley
How was the show master?
Barron Boneius
Silence you dodgy dimwit, where’s my latte?!
Snivley gestures to a coffee in the back seat. Boneius takes one swig then immediately hurls it out the window.
Barron Boneius
ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME YOU PRIMITIVE PIG! SERVE ME COFFEE THAT HOT AGAIN AND I’LL BOIL YOU IN IT.
The coffee flies out the window and straight into the front of Kolotov’s car, being driven by Alaric. The two are sat in silence but as the coffee hits, Alaric jerks in anger.
Alaric
BASTARD!
The two continue to sit in silence. Kolotov shifts uncomfortably.
Kolotov
The show went well
Alaric
Shut up
Another long pause.
Kolotov
I spoke to the producer about getting you on the show again. There’s this part in episode 8, you’d play this chef who gets killed, it's not big but –
Alaric
I said, shut up.
Alaric looks furious.
Alaric
(To himself) This is bullshit.
Cut to the dark forest. Both cars move down a faint forest track. Eventually arriving at the Barron’s cave. Boneius hops out of his car, pulls out his phone to check the time then rushes into the cave.
Kolotov and Alaric hop out of the car. Alaric immediately storms off into the forest. As Alaric gets deeper into the forest he starts to hear voices. Suddenly the figure of Rockstar Spud appears in the distance. Alaric looks panicked. He sees a near by stone and lobs it at the rockstar, knocking him unconscious.
Back at the cave Boneius emerges in a nice shirt with a bouquet of roses. Snivley looks away from him, unable to look at him. Kolotov shoots Boneius a thumbs up. Suddenly Alaric runs into the clearing. He runs up to his brother and tries to speak only to him.
Alaric
Brother, your next opponent, the “musician” he’s here.
Despite trying to keep his voice low Boneius has heard everything.
Barron Boneius
WHAT?!
Alaric looks annoyed at being heard
Alaric
I…I wanted to help, so, earlier, I bashed his engine up a little. Thought maybe they’d miss the match, I didn’t expect them to get stranded here.
Barron Boneius
You delusional driver! Did you at least deal with him!?
Alaric
I threw a stone at him. I think I knocked him out.
Barron Boneius
YOU DIDN’T CHECK?
Snivley
Even I know that’s stupid
Kolotov looks at his brother. Alaric looks at him expecting him to come to his aid.
Kolotov
(Nervous, trying to move the conversation on) We can all go check, now, make sure.
Boneius, Snivley and Kolotov start to walk into the forest. Alaric starts to follow.
Barron Boneius
Stay here you mushy moron. You’ve done enough.
The three walk into the forest. Leaving Alaric looking furious.
Excerpt from Rockstar Spud
Spud tentatively walks through the forest.
Spud
I'VE NEVER BEEN HERE BEFORE!
Spud walks to a nearby river to splash water on his face.
Spud
(As he dips his hand in) OUCH! IT'S NOT HOT! (for some reason he was expecting it to be)
Spud drops to his knees and looks up to the heavens.
Spud
WHY AM I SCREAMING EVERYTHING! WHAT IS THIS PLACE!
Evil Voice in the Distance
ROCKSTAR SPUD!!
Spud runs away from the voice. Spud runs past what looks to be "comedic" actress Leslie Jones smoking a cigarette.
BEAT
Spud runs for a solid 2 minutes in 1 direction but it's to no avail as the rules of the normal world do not apply here and once he stops running he's in the exact spot he started in.
Evil Voice in the Distance
You cannot escape that way, you rambunctious repugnant rocker, you puerile pipsqueak.
Spud stops in sudden realisation.
Spud
I KNOW YOU!
A deafening and awful screeching laugh drowns out all noise as Spud is cast 3 Shadows, 1 tiny and stumpy, 1 quite big and well built and 1 impossibly huge hulking shadow.
End of excerpt
Before Spud can say another word another rock flies from the shadows and hits him in the head.
Spud
HEY!
He can hear the three figures mumbling in the distance.
Barron Boneius
Snivley you nut. The rock clearly didn’t work the first time.
Snivley
I just wanted to help.
Barron Boneius
Well don’t.
The three figures get back to looking ominous.
Spud
LOOK MATE, JUST SHOW ME OUT AND I’M GONE, HONEST.
Barron Boneius
No chance you vile vocalist, we’re going to bone you all week.
He lets out an evil cackle. But is interrupted as Leslie Jones, looking glum and smoking steps between them.
Leslie Jones
Uh, Uh. You’re going on your date Boneius. I swear to god if you stand Annie up, hell if you upset her. I’ll be boning you for a lot longer than a week.
Spud notices his moment and start to run away. Boneius clearly wants to give chase but Leslie shoots him a look.
Barron Bonieus
Fine. Snivley, Kolotov, crush that limey louse. Make sure he doesn’t arrive to the match in one piece.
Snivley
But master, who will drive you?
Barron Boneius
I’ll get the other one, Alex? Angus?
With that Boneius runs back to the cave.
Cut to Spud speeding through the forest. The loud hulking footsteps of Kolotov can be heard advancing on him. Spud stops and hides behind a tree, catching his breath. Kolotov comes into view in the distance.
Kolotov
We can’t let you leave know you know where our hideout is. This is kinda your fault.
Spud
Mate, I don’t have a fucking clue where I am.
As he says this he starts climbing up the tree. Kolotov pauses.
Kolotov
Oh, well maybe we can work something out then. Because I’m sure the boss –
Suddenly Spud drops down onto him. Wrapping one arm around his neck, using the other to punch his face. Kolotov screams and stumbles around for a few seconds, before throwing himself backwards into a tree. This knocks Spud loose and to the ground.
Kolotov hops up, grabs a large rock and with both hands swings it down. Spud manages to roll out of the way just in time.
Spud gets up and starts running. Kolotov follows behind closing in on him. Just as he’s about to grab him Spud throws himself to the ground in a ball. The full force of Kolotovs foot collides with his chest. He lets out a loud groan as the sound of rib breaking is heard. The impact is more than enough however to trip Kolotov, sending him flying face forward into a tree. His body goes limp.
Spud slowly gets up, holding his chest and starts walking. Eventually he reaches a long dirt road. He sits down for a moment and starts looking for any passing cars. In the distance, Snivley watches on. He wrings his hands and giggles to himself.
Cut to, two EMT’s in the back of an ambulance. In between them is the zipped up body bag containing Michael Chiklis. Both look soured and devoid of any energy.
EMT 1
They know who did this?
EMT 2
Nah, no one got a good look, and apparently the security footage is missing.
EMT 1
Shit man.
EMT 2
Yeah
Pause
EMT 1
You see the match?
The two men burst into life, smiling and energetic.
EMT 2
Dude, when Ruxx got in the truck!
EMT 1
The baton! God I love the Barron man.
EMT 2
Who’s the Bone dude up against this week?
EMT 1
Spud and some other guy, a pilot.
EMT 2
The guy that did 9/11.
EMT 1
Probably.
EMT 2
He’s kinda D list ain’t he, not really big leagues?
EMT 1
Yeah, he’s just kind of filler, a back ups backup. Really weird with the crowds to, honestly think he's a bit shit.
The ambulance stops abruptly. The two men look at each other confused.
EMT 1
(To the driver) Hey man what’s going on?
The ambulance doors open to reveal Warble Wizard stood outside. The two men look at him stunned. Warble Wizard looks at the two men. He looks genuinely upset. He takes a deep breath then raises his arms.
Warble Wizard
Forgive me
His hands start to glow. From the outside of the ambulance we see the vehicle shake and hear the two EMT’s brief screams before the light dies, silence returns and Warble Wizard gets into the drivers seat and drives the ambulance away.
Cut.
Spud is still standing beside the road, thumb outstretched, hoping for anyone to come and get him away from this place. a few meters away hidden in a bush Snivley stares on.
Spud to make the slow, laboured, desperate, walk up the road. Snivley thinking fast uproots the bush he's hid in so he can remain hidden in it and move along with Spud so that he doesn't lose him. Spud checks if he's still being followed for a moment, to his knowledge he's not and continues to walk, whilst Snivleys bush also shuffles along in the background.
From his vantage point Snivley sees a pick up truck teaming towards Spud. Spuds sad visage becomes illuminated by the trucks headlights, Spud wantingly throws his thumb out hoping for them to stop, the car slows Spud panic turns to joy as it does. The cars window rolls down and a bare arse pops out of it.
Driver 1
Go fuck yourself, midget.
The truck speeds past spud, scooping snow from the ground with its wheels and slinging it at Spud.
BEAT
Spud looks to the sky and inhales deeply. Spuds shakes all of the snow from his body and repeats his desperate walk but now he's shivering and watching the truck speed away, the Truck has a confederate flag on the back.
Snivley
Ah, the racists always were servants of evil.
Snivley looks down the road and now see's an enormous, hulking, 18 wheeler truck.
Snivley
Oh God, no, for all that is evil don't let it be, no no no no.
Spud is blinded by the high beams of the gigantic beast of a vehicle, as he squints and adjust he begins to flail his arms in an attempt to flag the truck down. With a huge screech and a hiss truck stops. A voice calls out from the mammoth vehicle.
Trucker
WHERE YOU HEADED STRANGER?
Snivley sprints out of his bush on towards to Truck in his desperate dash he trips on a tree root and rolls uncontrollably down the hill, gathering some serious momentum as he does. Spud almost matrix-like anticipates Snivley behind him and ducks as Snivley takes the curb like a ramp and flies up and directly into the side of a gigantic truck. There is a Snivley shaped dent in the vehicle as his body slowly peels from its place on the side.
Trucker
The fuck is that thing.
Snively is passed out on the floor.
Spud
Erm, yeah can you get me to Washington, I've got a show there in a few days?
Trucker
I can get you about halfway, will that do?
Snivley stirs slightly.
Spud
(Gulps) Yep.
The door swings open and Spud leaps into the cab of the huge truck and shuts it behind him. The truck drives onward leaving Snivley in a seriously big pile of exhaust smoke.
A FEW HOURS LATER
The other members of Local Leather are stood outside the tour bus over the laid out body of Snivley.
Ziggy
Is it like a really fat lizard?
Panda
Nah, mate, I swear I seen a documentary once, shaved badger, that's what they look like.
Fringe
Whatever it is, it's dead now, poor thing, should we bury it?
Each band member begins to mound snow up towards the unconscious body of Snivley. Snivley starts slowly waking up.
Snivley
(muttered sleep talk) No master, not too high on the swings.
The band members all look in total and complete shock as Snivley slowly stands up, the snow mounds falling down, Snivley is yet still buried to his knees.
Fringe
I think it's alive actually.
Snivley
(mutters) Evil foiled again by the blasted Ice Road Truckers.
Snively assess the men stood before him.
Snivley
Who goes there, you, you, you, in, in, insidious, intrepid, the master is so much better at these than I.
Ziggy
Looks like I was right mate, Badgers definitely can't talk.
Panda
Neither can Lizards.
Ziggy
Never seen Rango?
Snivley looks over and see's the unmistakeable Transit Van with the words Local Leather on the side. A lightbulb appears above his head, this is a part of the lingering affect of the drugs the band have been on.
Snivley
You are the excellent rock band Local Leather.
The band quickly perk up, each caging the giddy excitement at having a fan.
Snivley
I am a your number 1 fan, can you take me to Washington?
The band take a quick huddle.
Ziggy
This is the greatest moment in the history of the band, what do we do?
Panda
Give him a ride obviously.
Fringe]
What if we can't trust him?
Ziggy
Alright we'll leave him.
The huddle breaks and Snivley stands longingly, giving the group the puppy dog eyes, the band try to avoid looking but it's too damn grotesque and cute at the same time. Panda looks at Fringe, giving him a 'can we' look, Fringe rolls his eyes and nods slightly.
Panda
Anything for our number 1 fan! Spud’s next match is there anyway, that's where we were going.
Snivley
WOOHOO.
The 4 men all giddily pile into the cramped Local Leather tour bus.
Snivley
This makes the cave feel homey.
Panda
You say something little dude.
Snivley
I said , thank you gracious hosts.
The band members smile.
CUT TO SPUD.
At a gas station Spud hops out of the Truck, he looks decidedly happier and a great deal healthier than when he got in, he's clearly been treated very well.
Trucker
Sorry Rockstar Spud, this is as far as I can take you, safe travels my friend, I'll be cheering for you.
Spud
I'll never forget what you did for me.
The truck pulls out and slowly chugs away, Spud waves on, grin on his face.
SPUD sits on a nearby sign and waits for vehicles to pass.
CUT TO LOCAL LEATHER AND SNIVLEY
The tour bus is parked up and Panda and Ziggy are fast asleep in the front, Fringe is sat on the drum stool facing Snivley who is stood on a pile of cables.
Snivley
And then we locked Big Snivley in a dungeon.
Fringe takes a massive pull
Fringe
Holy shit, little dude, that's awesome. So you and your boss are really close then?
Snivley
(Wells up) We used to be, when it was just he and I. He'd call me blithering boob and I'd help him conquer all the doo gooders of Foreverton but now we're in Canada, there are others and he doesn't like to do evil with me as much as them, Fringe tell me something, am I evil?
Fringe
The evilest.
Snivley
Eviler than Leslie Jones?
Fringe
Maybe not that evil but you're close buddy, almost as evil as Leslie Jones ain't bad. Here (passing the pipe).
Snivley
(Pondering the pipe) I've never done drugs before.... But they are evil? Hmmmmm.
Fringe
Be pretty evil and cool if you did.
Snivley
I would very much like to be evil and cool at the same time.
Snivley takes a gigantic toke of the Han N Abarbera pipe, lies back and falls asleep.
CUT TO SPUD
Spud has clearly been sat in the same spot for a couple of days, he has a dirty stubble. Spud looks dejected, sad, ready to give up.
He stands and turns around, in the distance he see's what can only be described as the most suited up, pimped out, fucking awesome bin wagon you ever did see. Stood atop is the gigantic figure of Big Homunculus surfing the wagon like Teen Wolf.
Spud jumps for absolute joy. Big Homunculus sees Spud, and reaches his long arm from atop the wagon into the cab, grabbing a megaphone from between Clyde and Ruxx, both staring forward sunglasses on. Ruxx doesn't even need to look at the road as cars part, lights change colours and pedestrians turn into cash upon impact with the vehicular manifestation of that dream Martin Luther King Jr had.
Big Homunculus
(On Megaphone) Hope you like Sensual Music giant man.
CUT TO SNIVLEY AND LOCAL LEATHER
Snivley wakes up propped up at the back of the tour, he looks forward and Local Leather looks different. Snivley feels different.
Panda
We're here pal, hope you had a nice lift. Say hi to Spud in the match from us.
Snivley
I'm never doing drugs again
Fade out.
Fade back into the backstage area of the arena, yet we’ve not escaped from the alternate plane. José Figueiras puts a José Figueiras mask on Roderick Kross
José Figueiras
We are one.
Roderick Kross goes on to wrestle as José Figueiras for the night.
José Figueiras
Saf
Cut to the ring, where Mark Beverly is in the center.
Mark Beverly: The following contest is the first-hour main event of the evening, a tornado team match scheduled for one fall! In this match, each participant may remain in the ring at all times, as there is a count out as well as disqualifications!
YODELEELELEEUIRGDFBJVKMXC,
José Figueiras comes out, very obviously angry. Honestly more angry than Bin Laden when he found out the twin towers were slightly different. He gets to the ring very fast. Very fast. Not like Roman Reigns fast but very fast. Like, thing is, you can only go so fast. Steve Macmichael. Lance Storm has a massive orgasm. For once, Christian responds.
Christian Cage: Did you just have a moderate orgasm?
Lance Storm: No.
After an absolutely COLLOSSAL entrance that drove absolutely everyone in the world fucking insane José Figueiras produces a mic from his ass pocket and speaks into it.
José Figueiras
Hi.
Everyone in the crowd dies and don't believe the bullshit Bret Hart tells you, they actually died. He's gonna write some shit about how the crowd is going wild but they;re actually dead. José Figueiras FINALLY gets to the ring after shimmying down to it, taking up 90 minutes out of the whole 120 hour show or whatever it is.
Christian Cage: Oh my god Lance Storm are you okay
Lance Storm doesn't reply because he is dead.
José Figueiras
I am not happy.
The remaining living members of the crowd ask in unison:
The Crowd:
WHY NOT, JOSÉ FIGUEIRAS?
José Figueiras answers.
José Figueiras: Because.
The crowd goes fucking insane at the absolutely great joke.
José Figueiras: Nah I'm JAY KAY
Everything goes back to normal, including the formatting.
José Figueiras
I came.
José pauses.
José Pauses.
Jóse PaAUses.
JOSE pauses.
jose PAUSESL
José Figueiras
As I was saying, I came to this show for one reason and one reason alone; For starters, I wanted you all to see how quietly I could talk before even getting to the point. And secondly, I wanted to address the situation that is taking place right now in this moment, temporarily.
José Figueiras gets obviously ridiculously red in the face because he is very ANGRY
José Figueiras
I don't think it's okay for Bret Hart to completely disallow me from bringing Martin Luther King back from the dead.
The crowd doesn't boo or cheer because they have all deceased.
José Figueiras
I don't think it's okay for Bret Hart to completely disallow me from bringing Martin Luther King back from the dead.
The crowd now cheers, even though they have all deceased. José Figueiras seems moderately pleased by the reaction. Not enough to win the match obviously, but enough to change the Font Face.
José Figueiras
Alright then. This isn't something I was going to or wanted to bring up, but we are in a world of truth. And I am all for the truth.
The dead crowd doesn't react because everyone is dead.
José Figueiras
And the truth is I am angry.
José Figueiras
José Figueiras
I am angry for two reasons. Two very obvious reasons:
Reason number ONE (1): Martin Luther King was great.
Reason number TWO (2): Rockstar Spud is a midget.
Macias comes out and he gets killed by Bin Laden who was actually alive all along. RKO out of nowhere from JOSÉ FIGUEIRAS, Bin Laden dies.
The confusion suddenly stops when a wild Snivley appears from nowhere to strike the newly midget-ed Roderick Kross-posing-as-José-Figueiras from behind, sending the little fucker through the second and third ropes. The crowd comes from whatever trance Figueiras set them in for their pulses to stop temporarily and begin roaring along like nothing happened. Bret Hart can’t wait for the class-action lawsuit incoming.
Outside of the ring, Snivley has chased the man finally his size -- so he picks his fight, finding the bent steel pipe that’s already caused so much drama from ringside and walloping and rising Roderick Figueiras over the dome! The steel pipe keeps coming down with seemingly no end on the little body before the camera cuts to show fans rising as Rockstar Spud in a full-speed sprint to the ordeal!
Snivley, as usual, goes flying like a World Cup winning soccer ball after Spud’s front-toed punt, spiraling like an American football until he hits the cement floor between crowd seating sections!
Nearly as incredulous as Christian has been all night, the Rockstar soon accepts the situation he’s in, grabbing his dwarf partner and rolling his little body into the ring. Before he can enter himself, he turns to be met with a silver revolver in his face! Immediately, he shoots his hands up and looks past the gun to see its handler - the freshly casted Barron Boneius in a bright yellow Hawaiian shirt, Kolotov just behind holding the Bone Batton sinisterly in his right hand.
Cut to the commentary booth: an incredulous Christian.
Cut back. Rockstar Spud is pleading! Begging!
Barron Boneius: To your knees, if you care for your life, you redundant rockstar reject!
Spud seems to have no choice at this moment as the crowd watches on with mouths covered and fearful murmurs. The Barron presses the cold muzzle against Spud’s cold forehead before backing away just slightly, his aim steady. In an almost flawless impersonation, he becomes Dirty Harry.
Spud has so far done better than Vince McMahon did with a gun in his face, but his lip tremble suggests not for long. At that moment -
The trigger is pulled.
*BANG*
The red and white flag pops out to the crowd’s roar of boos at being scared. Kolotov and the Barron take to laughs that come from the gut, bellowing and proud of their successful prank. Spud, realizing, lowers his hands. Boneius notices his changing demeanour, swinging with the butt of the prop gun, only to be ducked and Kolotov suddenly overtaken with a crossbody! The Barron turns around to a Pele kick, the force popping him on top of the apron!
Similar to Orange Cassidy in the impromptu opener, Spud is on top of the barricade, but his descending off it lands an elbow in the heart of the Barron, both bodies fall back to the mat afterwards!
Kolotov is back up as Roderick Figueiras attempts a rope-rebounded suicide dive, just to be caught and tossed right back into the ring, and followed.
Cut to Spud getting himself up.
Cut to Kolotov playing Roderick’s head like Aaron Judge with the Bone Batton.
Cut to Spud pulling Barron to his feet.
Cut to referee Sandra Yandel reprimanding Kolotov, despite the match not having started yet. Barron has been rolled in and Spud is just behind him.
Ding!
Kolotov gets hit with a dropkick from Spud before he can do anything, then gets downed with a clothesline from Barron originally intended for Rockstar who ducked. The batton rolls out of the ring as Boneius reverses an Irish whip into his own, sending Spud into the corner. The Barron is after him, until two knees drop him back. He rolls over and up on his shoulders as Spud flips back to the top rope - and he’s off!
The Barron jumps and hits a dropkick in the gut of Spud’s descending body! Spud finds himself rolling around the ring, his hands gripping at where the kick landed. Kolotov is stood on the middle rope now, waiting for the right moment to drive his knee down into the same spot! He allows for his master to attempt the cover.
Sandra Yandel: ONE!.............
TWO!........
KICKOUT
Roderick Figueiras stirs again, but Barron punts him like everyone has done Snivley for weeks, sending the little shit through the ropes and onto the arena floor!
Sandra Yandel: ONE!
Barron Boneius: HAHAHA! What will you do now?! As your puny petulant partner ponders the pebbles - what will you do?!
The two men close in on Rockstar Spud as he attempts to make it to his knees.
Sandra Yandel: TWO!
Just before they can do anything, from his knees he hops to his feet then into a double dropkick that sends them back toward the ropes!
Sandra Yandel: THREE!
In a similar crossbody as to earlier, he sprints and sends all three men up-and-over the top rope to the outside with it!
Sandra Yandel: ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Finally, Spud is stirring, just as the Barron is - the smaller man thinking smartly, pushing the other back into the unsteady steel steps (thanks to the ordeal from before).
Sandra Yandel: FIVE!
The back of the Barron’s head seems to collide awkwardly with the edge of the steps, slumping him over afterwards. Kolotov rises to the strikes of Rockstar Spud, before shooing him off and leveling him with a discus clothesline, the force behind which drops both to the ground.
Sandra Yandel: SEVEN!
Kolotov is stirring, perhaps the only one hearing the numbers by this point.
Sandra Yandel: EIGHT!
He’s on his feet and ready to get -- wait a fan’s grabbing him by the shoulder and turned him around!
Sandra Yandel: NINE!
It’s not a fan at all! It’s José Figueiras! The real one! All he does, hands now pocketed, is give Kolotov his classic grin, before an overdramatic right eye wink.
Sandra Yandel: TEN!
DING DING DING
Kolotov immediately turns to Sandra Yandel, screaming objections. He turns to confront Figueiras’ who has thought ahead, ready to grab the vampire’s head and slam it down on the barricade! The blow sends Kolotov back to the floor as Figueiras retreats into the crowd, that parts for him like the Red Sea because he’s José Figueiras.
José Figueiras & Rockstar Spud vs. Barron Boneius & Kolotov Dracislav ends in a DRAW via countout in 5:56
We move down a backstage corridor, seen through the lens of a grainy digital camera - handheld by possibly an amateur filmmaker or journalist. We hear laboured breathing as the cameraperson scuttles along the hall, desperate not to be noticed. Every so often the camera turns to the side, examining the names on each dressing room door, but the camera owner isn't satisfied with any of them.
Gradually, we hear a muffled guitar riff from further down the corridor. The cameraperson picks up their pace, following the sound as it becomes more prominent.
At last the camera and its owner reaches the right door. By now the guitar riff is recognisable as that of the Ghost song "Danse Macabre":
Sure enough, in place of the usual name on the dressing room door is a crudely painted symbol depicting a solar eclipse.
This is all the evidence the cameraperson needs. Their free hand emerges into frame - it's scrawny, acne-scarred, likely belonging to a teenage boy - and knocks on the door.
Immediately the door swings open, revealing Eclipse in full costume. The room behind her is shrouded in darkness. The only items close enough to the corridor to be visible are a cheap stereo blasting the aforementioned Ghost song, and a punching bag dangling by a rusty chain from the ceiling.
Eclipse's piercing eyes glare at the camera, then scan its owner up and down. She speaks in a hoarse, growling whisper.
Eclipse
Who are you?
Finally the cameraperson speaks up. Sure enough, the voice is anxious, male, and cracking with every other syllable.
Kenny
Oh boy, uh... Eclipse, it's s-so cool to meet you, I'm your biggest fan. M-my name's Kenny.
Eclipse
Fine. What do you want?
Kenny
Well, uh... I-I-I'm s-starting a vlog series, y'see, dedicated to my favourite wrestlers. Which at the minute is just you, of course. I s-snuck backstage to see you and I was wondering if you had time for a quick interview...?
Even with much of her face covered, the derision in Eclipse's expression is very clear.
Eclipse
Okay. I'll be as gentle as I can, which is more than a little weasel like you deserves.
Kenny
I agree, Eclipse. You're more p-powerful than I could ever hope t-
Eclipse
Please shut up. You want your interview, you little creep? Here it is.
Without warning, Eclipse reaches out and snatches the camera. Kenny briefly whines in protest, but shuts up quickly. Eclipse brings the camera uncomfortably close to her face and glares down the lens.
Eclipse
This kid's pathetic, but he's not wrong. None of you have witnessed the true power of your She-borg Queen yet. And trust me when I say none of you are ready for it. The Gauntlet match is mine and you'd all do well to get out of my way. Some of you are still preoccupied with unimportant things like who I was; where I've come from; if I have anyone else in my life. Like this adolescent embarrassment Kenny here. Hoping to catch me backstage and find out some new information to incriminate me.
Eclipse pauses for breath. Kenny coughs awkwardly.
Eclipse
But none of you understand me, not really. Because I don't want you to. I don't need you to. I need you all to respect, admire and fear me. Because my reign's still coming, and nobody's going to stop me. Not Big Homunculus, not Max Ironside, not Laci Valentine... none of you. At present, my realm is confined to a humble dressing room. But soon my empire will rise as I take you all down. And all who are left will kneel before the She-borg Queen.
On that bombshell, Eclipse takes the camera in one hand, raising it over her shoulder. We fleetingly see the spotty, bespectacled Kenny standing limply in the corridor before she throws the camera with all her might at the opposite wall.
Kenny
No!! My ca-
Kenny's yell is cut off in its prime as the camera crunches against the wall. The picture crackles and cuts out.
Interview over, evidently. And too, the alternate plane of existence. The last commercial in this special begins.
We return to security camera footage.
Laci had been bothered all week by the news of someone squatting at the old Olympia Gym. It felt so disrespectful to Laci. Even though the Fischer's had done everything in their power to secure the locks, the security camera was still picking up the woman coming in and out. She decided to take matters into her own hands. So she pulled Lucy out of bed at two am, much to the woman's chagrin to come with her.
Laci Valentine
You're a night owl though…
Laci argued as she slipped the key into the front door lock carefully.
The blonde in her grey hoodie yawns loudly.
Lucy Richards
Yeah but dude, it's my night off…
Laci spins on her friend.
Laci Valentine
We need to catch this chick and make her leave. If she needs help we'll get her to a shelter, no one should be taking advantage of the Fischer's.
She then turns back and pushes the door open, slipping inside with only the light from her cell phone to guide her.
Lucy Richards
This has bad idea written all over it, Lace. Spooky old place at night? Don't you ever watch horror movies? Neither of us are virgins so we're not safe.
Lucy shudders at the way the whole place echoes.
Laci Valentine
Oh please. Don't be a chicken shit.
Although if Laci were being honest, she'd agree with Lucy about it being creepy.
Laci Valentine
We gotta fix this. They lost out on a sale the other day because of this chick.
Laci hated the idea of Olympia being something else but the facts were there, the patriarch, Tommy Fischer hadn't been teaching since his stroke and the other boys wanted to move on to other passions. The only branch left was in Las Vegas with Bliss, but even that was suffering low enrollment and Jerry had told her Bliss was considering closing up and moving back to New York too. It made Laci sad.
Lucy Richards
Okay, okay. We'll kick this chick out for your friends sake. Geeze, you didn't have to get all sentimental.
Lucy rolls her eyes and forges forward, Laci trailing closely behind her.
Lucy Richards
Are you still bothered by that Spud guy? You know he's one of those boys in high school that get zero action because they have zero idea what to say?
Luci sighs, stopping in place. Her hands go to her hips.
Laci Valentine
What is it with people in this company taking one thing I say and blowing it up to mean way more than it does? And what the fuck, glass house? Why? Am I a Mama's boy in a shitty band? That reference is for someone who is criticizing someone for something they themselves are afflicted with. Obviously only one of us is 'afflicted' with the inability to use an analogy probably.
Lucy chuckles.
Laci Valentine
(mocking) I put food on two tables…Why? Does your mom have two tables? God damn. Like if you're going to clap back at me at least say something about me that is relevant. Like it's not hard to read a fucking bio! Watch a promo!
Lucy comes back to put a hand on Laci's shoulder.
Lucy Richards
Seems that people know how to get to you, even if he didn't do it intentionally. You hate ignorance. And everyone is ignorant. He's just mad you aren't falling all over yourself in admiration for him. Obviously a couple wins has given him a big head. He may have gotten the better of you Lace, but he's not going to get by that Raging Ned guy in your stable. Spud's luck is about to run out.
These words don't offer the red head any solace though.
Laci Valentine
Ex-Stable mate and It's Dead actually. He couldn't get dibs on that twitter handle…
She trails off.
Lucy Richards
What happened?
Laci shrugs but it's hard to see in the dark.
Laci Valentine
I'm not the type to just go out and beat someone innocent and attacking Sydney was wrong. I feel terrible about it and I plan on making a public apology once she returns.
Lucy gives her friend a compassionate smile.
Lucy Richards
At least, you saw this before you went all helter skelter…
Laci rolls her eyes but she is back toher original thoughts before the obvious distraction her friend had used.
Laci Valentine
I should have beaten him.
She said it in a quiet, defeated voice.
Lucy Richards
Your career is just beginning, this won't be the only chance you get at a championship.
Laci rolls her eyes in the dark. She was too focused on finding this chick, so the self-deprecating would have to wait for another day. They continue walking. They get to the men's locker room, where the debris had been found before.
Lucy Richards
You really think she's going to go right back to the place we're expecting her to be?
Lucy seems skeptical.
Laci Valentine
It's a start.
Fact was, Laci did not want to venture into the basement storage area even if that was probably where she was getting inside, but if she was going to catch this person unaware it had to be late.
They enter and it echoes. All the actual metal lockers had been removed leaving bare walls in rows. Like skeletons in a graveyard. The tap at the back drips and although it wasn't actually a loud sound, in the dark, silent area it feels deafening.
Laci Valentine
(whispering) She was near the urinals…
Lucy Richards
Ewww…
Laci Valentine
Maybe she's a chick with a dick…
Laci shrugs.
Laci Valentine
I have nothing against those that are gender fluid.
Lucy Richards
What does it matter? It's gross to sleep by any kind of toilet, whether you're a dude or a chick.
The two women continue to argue in whispered tones when out of nowhere...
Voice
What are we whispering about?
A new voice comes from behind the girls and they instantly scream. Laci's phone shines right in the eyes of the person and they back away, shielding.
Woman
Fuck... dude....
It takes a second but Laci comes to her senses, rushing the mystery woman and pushing her back into one of those aforementioned walls. She hits hard, letting out air from her lungs.
Woman
Jesus Christ!
The woman regains her momentum quickly, shoving Laci back. Laci nearly loses her grip but instead slides back on her foot and rebounds into the person squatting in her friends gym. From the side, Lucy watches the two women in the near darkness. The light from Laci's dropped phone shines up at the ceiling, highlighting the fight when Lucy's face breaks into a smile.
Lucy Richards
Flynn?
The mystery woman has her hands locked around Laci's neck, Laci is desperately trying to pry them off but the darker woman looks up, the light glinting in her steely blue eyes.
Woman
Who's asking?
The Mystery woman can't see Lucy very well in the dim light and she squints.
Lucy Richards
Flynn, it's Richie.
Flynn
Well fuck me…
'Flynn' drops her hands and steps over the offending phone to get a better look.
Flynn
I haven't seen you since when?
Lucy Richards
Middle school, you ho.
The two fist bump while Laci watches horrified. One hand rests on what she thinks is her bruised neck. Her eyes go wide and she can't believe what she's seeing.
Laci Valentine
You know each other?
Laci shakes her head. Red tendrils had fallen loose from her ponytail while Flynn appears no worse for wear in her dark hoodie.
Lucy Richards
I told you my Dad is some big honcho with the Canadian military. Well one year we had to live in Virginia. That's when I met Flynn.
She turns back to her long lost friend.
Lucy Richards
You haven't changed one bit.
Flynn
A lot of shit has happened. A lot of stupid shit.
Laci Valentine
Excuse me but are we forgetting that this person, whether you know her or not Lucy, has been here screwing up sales for the Fischers?
Both of the women turn back to Laci.
Flynn
Oh hey, yeah... about that. I'll ship out in the morning. I never really stay anywhere very long anyway."
Laci has so many questions. How did a woman from Virginia end up in a wrestling gym in Toronto Canada? Why was she squatting in abandoned buildings? She watched the two 'old' friends exchange words back and forth and she's not able to fully comprehend everything until Lucy says,
Lucy Richards
Come stay with us while you're in town. We can catch up.
Laci Valentine
What?!
Lucy Richards
Lace, don't be a square. Flynn is cool, I promise.
Laci Valentine
Am I supposed to just be okay with all this? And Is that a nickname?
The pair laugh.
Flynn
Yeah. My name's actually Zaylee Flynn.
Zaylee raises her hand to also offer a fist bump. Laci stares at her, leaving her hanging.
Laci Valentine
Five minutes ago we were trying to kill each other. You honestly think I'm just going to be cool with you now?
Zaylee shrugs.
Flynn
Suit yourself. You ambushed me sweetheart, It was self defense.
Laci Valentine
You broke into this place! It belongs to very good friends of mine. I wanted justice.
Zaylee groans dramatically.
Flynn
Oh for fucks sake…
She walks away and returns seconds later with a ratty looking canvas backpack. She rumbles through it until she finds a worn paper envelope and opens it. She sticks her tongue out one side of her mouth while looking through it and then pulls out a few hundred dollar American bills. She then throws them at Laci.
Flynn
Give that to your friends. I'm sure money will make this all disappear…
She rolls her eyes. Laci doesn't move to pick it up.
Laci Valentine
If you have money why not get a hotel room. Why squat in an abandoned wrestling gym?
Flynn
It's a long story. You got booze at your place?
She is again looking at Lucy.
Lucy Richards
Of course, does the pope wear a stupid hat?
Lucy is smiling ear to ear, a rare sight since Laci had met her.
Flynn
Then let's go and I'll fill you in. It all starts with this guy I met after I ran away the first time. Kyle Kavanaugh…
Laci face palms. The dude she was crushing on from twitter? This was like a big bloody nightmare quickly becoming worse.
Fade into the commentary booth, where Christian seems the calmest he has all night. Nonetheless, his mouth is ajar, with no words escaping it.
Lance Storm: We have just seen our last commercial break, ladies and gentlemen, and now is the time for the main event. In the build for this Gauntlet for the Gold, independent sensation David Starr signed with AWF, just managing to find his way into this first opportunity. A look at David Starr, just now.
David Starr
AWF...Alberta Wrestling Federation. The Best of The Best come through these doors and they look to make a name for themselves. This company has only been around for a short time and people are already holding it to the highest standard that a professional wrestling company can be held to...so I just had to make my way to the Great White North so that I can be a part of it.
David Starr
But...let's be real here...I am the one person that nobody expected to sign a full length deal with AWF. Hell...I am the King of The Independents for fucksakes..and already I am the underdog in my first match...people should know that I am not the underdog in any situation. I have worked my ass off on the indies since the day I started in wrestling. I am one of the most highly decorated independent professional athletes in the world...but...but it seems that no one understands that…
David Starr
...I should take that back... only the management in this company seems to understand it...because they have given me, along with twelve other men and women, an opportunity to become the number one contender for the AWF Championship at Primetime VI...which is a smart move on their behalf. But the downside to that is that the match is a gauntlet match...and just to show how overconfident I am... and because I just to prove everyone wrong about me. I am announcing that I would like to be the one to start the match...I am announcing that I want to run the gauntlet from the start. I want to prove to everyone watching live and to all the talent in the back that I am one of the best to ever lace up a pair of boots.
David Starr
People are going to call me foolish...sure...but this is what I do...I go out there each and every week and I put on the best matches I possibly can, I am Mr. Independent Professional Wrestling. I call myself the one hundred and four minute man for a reason...I have gone the distance in long and grueling matches before. I fought Dave Crist for one hundred and four minutes. We went to a 60 minute draw...then went for another forty-four minutes...I am the best of the best...I got that nickname by winning...well...The Best of The Best XVII. In that tournament I went on to beat Tessa Blanchard, Peter Avalon, Matt Riddle and in the finals I defeated Zachary Wentz to become The Best of The Best...yet people still don't understand the talent I have.
David Starr
Which is a shame...because if they really knew who I am...they would know that I am nothing to fuck with. They would know that me wanting to start this gauntlet would be a disadvantage for the others participating in this match. They would know that David Starr isn't someone that does high flying moves for the whole match, they should know that David Starr is someone who wrestles. Someone who fights to survive... Someone who doesn't take anything lightly...someone who isn't scared of throwing hard hitting strikes...because I know this isn't ballet. I know this is going to be a long and grueling match...that me asking to start is going to put a massive target on my back for this match. But I welcome that. I welcome the challenge. I welcome it all.
David Starr
I am going into this contest...with a gigantic target on my back. Which I openly accept. I know what I am getting myself into with this match up. I know this won't be easy...hell...I don't expect it to be easy. I expect this to be one of the hardest fights of my life...considering what's on the line here. A shot at Priscilla Kelly and her AWF World Championship. Which is a championship I would love to add to my list of accomplishments...which is already quite extensive to begin with. I have held countless titles across countless promotions. But AWF is where I want to be...and that AWF World Championship is something I need to hold. Not want to hold...I need to hold it. I'm sure Priscilla has been a great champion thus far...but if you have The Product as your worlds champion...then you really know that the company is great...because not only am I am one of the best professional wrestlers on this planet. I AM…
David Starr
The Cream in Your Coffee...Your Favorite Wrestlers Favorite Wrestler...The Jewish Cannon...The Physical Embodiment of Charisma...The Bernie Sanders of Professional Wrestling...The Most Entertaining Man in Professional Wrestling...Mr Americanrana...Davey Fucking Wrestling...The 104 Minute Man...The Main Event...I am really fucking good at Twitter...The King of Taunts...The Product...and after this match you can call me the next number one contender...I am...David...Starr…
The bad feedback brings us to the center of the ring, where the first four participants of the Gauntlet for the Gold have occupied the squared circle: David Starr, Kendrick Kross, Tony Savage, and Ruxx Rampede, all looking carefully amongst each other in their respective corners.
Mark Beverly: This next match is the Gauntlet for the Gold to determine the number one contender for the Alberta Wrestling Federation World’s Championship! The four men in the ring will start the match, and after each elimination will another participant join until there is one person standing!
Senior official Don Quintillis has the main event once more, and signals for the bell.
Ding!
Immediately, all three smaller men converge on Ruxx, who can’t do anything but accept the blows as they back him into the corner. Waiting to pick his spot, he finally finds one, pushing Kendrick Kross off him and across the ring, elbowing David Starr in the temple, and kicking Tony Savage in the gut.
Lance Storm: Ruxx Rampede, here, proving the aggressor
They quickly come together on the man as he nears the center, Kross running in with a basement dropkick that puts the big man on one knee. They circle the man and wail away with fists before suddenly, Ruxx explodes out in that overdone indie wrestling spot where he Supermans those hoes like Leslie Jones that usually looks like shit but it looks absolutely incredible, because it’s Ruxx bitchin’ Rampede, my nigga!
Kross rolls under the bottom rope as Savage eats an explosive running clothesline then Starr is rebounded off the ropes and eats a high back body drop. Kross is on his feet and charging, then caught by Ruxx, who swings him onto his shoulders then clobbers him down in the center of the ring. Savage’s next attack is thwarted by a fast big boot, the step down used as his sprint to clothesline David out of the ring who is leaning against the ropes!
Rampede is feeling it in the corner, Tacoma on their feet at the man’s early onslaught -- RAMPEDE STAMPEDE! ALREADY! KENDRICK KROSS FLIPS ON IMPACT! Quickly into the cover!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Kendrick Kross has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: Ruxx Rampede just cleared the ring and eliminated the first participant like it was a walk in the park.
Savage comes around with a swinging neckbreaker as Rampede rests on a knee unsuspectingly for just a split second - one second too long. He attempts a pinfall right away, as Matt Sydal can be seen sprinting down the ramp from the camera angle.
Don Quintillis: ONE!..........
KICKOUT
Sydal has hopped on the apron and then the top rope for a springboard, falling into a clothesline that takes down Savage! Seeing David Starr beginning to stir on the outside, Sydal’s immediately off the ropes furthest away and then back with a shooting star suicide dive over the top rope, laying out both men for the time being!
Savage is to his feet -- RAMPEDE STAMPEDE! ANOTHER ONE FROM NOWHERE AND SAVAGE BODY LOOKS WORSE FOR WEAR THAN THE LAST! Another pinfall!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Tony Savage has been eliminated.
Lance Storm: Ruxx has eliminated two now - both we’ve lost.
The next entrant is a bit more menacing. Walking out with eyes in the essence of Sid, Dyno-Mike is an intimidating sight as the gassed Ruxx takes another resting knee in the center of the ring. The crowd is not welcoming his presence, especially the cigar smugly lit in his mouth. Over his head is a horrible disfigurement of scar from the wrath of Orange Cassidy some weeks ago. As he nears the two men laid down at the foot of the ramp, a swift motion has David Starr in his grasp in one second and in the next the cigar burning down across his left shoulder with great vengeance and furious anger!
The crowd revolts as the welting can be seen with the close camera shot, Lance Storm unable to get out his line and save from possibly regurgitating on an international broadcast -- Mike’s psychotic chuckle all the more petrifying!
Cut to Ruxx who has decided he’s seen quite enough, asking the referee for a disqualification. When he learns Dyno isn’t legal until he’s in the ring, there’s no hesitation in hopping on the apron and hurtling himself with a flying clothesline just high enough to catch only Dyno-Mike and send him crashing down on the ramp!
Crowd: RUXX! RUXX! RUXX! RUXX!
Lance Storm: Thank goodness for Ruxx Rampede, that was uncalled for!
Rampede rolls through smoothly and is on pace for the rushing shoulder block that turns Dyno-Mike on his shoulders and down nearly underneath the ring! Mike’s up quickly, though, and uses Rampede’s momentum against him for a stiff lariat of his own, putting Rampede to the mat.
When he turns, he’s not expecting Sydal’s hurricanrana -- but he still manages to catch it halfway, pull him up, and throw him viciously in a powerbomb along the apron! What a sickening crack can be heard!
Mike barely let’s the body flop before he’s pulling up at the man and tossing him into the ring. When he turns, however, he catches a sudden boot in the face from David Starr with a picture perfect dropkick, though it only drops him to a knee. Adrenaline surges him through the form tackle bull rush into the apron! Still, he’s only to down his knees, so Starr decides the scar’s the bullseyes for those unrelenting right hand shots that keep pounding down! When Mike is stubborn to even those, Starr takes the necessary steps back to swing the boot through his face - his cheek smashing into the apron! The body finally falls!
Cut to Ruxx rolling under the bottom rope slyly then backing into a corner. Cut to hard camera, Sydal pulling himself up in the corner diagonal — RAMPEDE STAMPEDE! ANOTHER ONE! Another leg hook!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Matt Sydal has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: That’s three for Ruxx! All three!
Infuriated, Starr has managed Mike’s large carcass onto the apron, pulling him under his arm once he’s joined him -- CHERRY MINT DDT! Starr rolls him in for Ruxx as he gathers himself for a moment.
Climbing to his feet, Mike’s welcomed by a gut kick from the Binman, then a clubbing blow to the back - then from nowhere Dyno snaps and manages a fast belly to belly on Ruxx!
HAN STANSEN! The Stan Hansen-like lariat from David Starr turns Dyno-Mike around, but it’s the PRODUCT PLACEMENT -- the arm-trapped German that took all the Jewish Cannon’s strength -- that brings him down! He lets go of the trap to pin the shoulders in a full-nelson from the bridge!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Dyno-Mike has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: David Starr has one - but conspicuous by her absence was the entry after Sydal’s elimination and there Athena is now! She’s been stalking, and now she’s at the top rope!
Athena descends on David Starr with a diving spinning heel kick! The entry for Dyno-Mike isn’t so shy, the crowd already in all types of excitement, Max Ironside’s entry into the match another addition to it all. Athena is met in an immediate collar-and-elbow tie up, but it’s switched into an armdrag by her. Ironside is back to meet her next armdrag with a fancy foot landing, surprising her on the turn with a springboard back elbow! The attempted pinfall!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Ironside is up to his feet first but Athena isn’t far behind, catching him with a jumping sidekick he wasn’t quite expecting!
Lance Storm: Shades of the commissioner there.
A leg-hook on Ironside from Athena.
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Ironside stops Athena’s momentum with a kick to the stomach, before quickly wrapping her into a one-armed snap suplex with the bridge!
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Ironside is up -- and Ruxx decides to remind them this is a multi-person affair when he clobbers Max with a clothesline! Athena’s charge is stopped with a boot, as on target as the last! Groggy, she still tries to get up, but he aggressively throws her into the corner, accompanying her on the trip to meet her with a body splash that leaves her body perfectly still to fall in Starr’s grasp -- BLACKHEART BUSTER! The way her neck bent over his kneecap on the brainbuster!
Lance Storm: Look - Ironside the opportunist! The Crippled Crossface! Athena was the first to tap to this in AWF history already!
Another fifty seconds goes by and this time Athena doesn’t tap! She cannot bear a full ninety seconds, however, tapping just at eight-seventy!
Mark Beverly: Athena has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: With that, all three in the ring have had at least one elimination by this point.
Cut to a sight we do not want to see. Disheveled, looking like an Andorran Mankind, comes Lieutenant Andorra, who cannot look up at the crowd before the holler…
Lieutenant Andorra: LUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
Cut to all three in the ring - Ruxx standing with both hands on his hips and head shaking, Max Ironside using the ring ropes as rest, and David Starr on a knee. Tacoma seems to darken in every way, in condelescene and sorrow for this poor father. Each attempt at a look at the crowd, Andorra shoos away lost in confidence. Such a slow, sad stride to witness. His roll under the bottommost ring rope is just as lost, and Ruxx looks at him with a deep look of sadness, but as though a duty must be done.
RAMPEDE STAMPEDE!
He does not bother to hook the leg, shaking his head as he shoots the half.
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Lieutenant Andorra has been eliminated!
Christian Cage: I know what to say about that, one, Storm: that was some sad shit.
Safe to say the demeanor shifts at the sight of the next entrant: ‘The First’ Phil Goode. Boos arise as the three in the ring get much more ready. While he cockily gloats the crowd on his way down the ramp, he stops in his tracks when he sees the daggers. With two hands up, he looks at referee Don Quintillis about a fairness of entry rule, to which the senior referee shrugs.
Essentially in the clear, all three suddenly exit the ring — Starr & Ruxx on one side and Ironside on the other solo. Goode doesn’t wait to see their plan, being the FIRST back in the ring with a quick slide in. With the high ground, he stands with his guard up while goading his opponents to try him one by one.
Instead, they decide to form like a nexus around the ring, surrounding the man from any entry point, especially at their speeds. Ironside’s the first in, over the top rope, then Ruxx, then Starr but they all collide in on the man in a bit of a reverse of Rampede’s starting scenario.
Phil attempts a similar Superman throw, but it doesn’t work so well, only destroying whatever good block he had on their clobbering shots. Ironside whips Goode into the ropes and both Starr & Ruxx are ready with the H Bomb!
Rampede is back in a corner, the other two letting him use his energies -- RAMPEDE STAMPEDE! The hook of the leg is tight and purposefully uncomfortable.
Don Quintillis: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Phil Goode has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: That’s five for Ruxx!
Eclipse doesn’t take long to emerge from the curtain, but is more cautious than her predecessor in her walk to the ring, seeing that the trio seem to have formed a sort of unspoken alliance, at least for now.
Cut to -- from the crowd! Barron Boneius, Kolotov (batton-wielding), & Leslie Jones!
Cut to -- from the other side of the crowd! Alaric with a limping Snivley close behind!
Cut to -- the unsuspecting trio inside the ring, pan to a slowing Eclipse, witnessing the incoming ambush. All men and Leslie are in the ring before they realize, and that is much too late. Leslie clears the referee from the ring while The Bone Batton comes across the back of Ruxx’s head, cracking the bald skin open upon impact.
Kolotov & Leslie come together as a duo to throw Ruxx to the outside as Boneius and Alaric ground Ironside and Starr in the ring. With their combined strength, they hold Ruxx over their heads in a double crucifix position, plunging him through the announce table!
Cut to Christian, the most incredulous he’s ever been. He takes off his headset and walks off.
Cut to Ruxx Rampede’s body, through the table, unsure which is more broken!
Barron Boneius: Enough evil endeavors for an endearing evening everyone!
On the command, the Legion clears the arena as if they had done nothing at all. Eclipse approaches the ring as Ironside’s body limps to the arena floor. Starr stands upon her entrance, but can’t do anything to block the karate back kick to the gut. A fast hiza geri to the temple limps Starr over, before she lands an axing soto mawashi to the burnmark on the shoulder! He exposes his chin in pain, perfect for her standing spinning heel kick right to the jaw! She doesn’t let him fall, instead hooking him between her legs -- PILEDRIVER!
Lance Storm: That’s her finish! Into the cover. It’s Charles Robinson on the slide in, that smooth son of a gun.
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: David Starr has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: He was one of our first four - what a debut!
Laci Valentine sprints out of the back immediately, to a mixed, unsure reaction. None of it is her concern, as she quickly slides underneath the bottom rope, ducks a spinning leg from Eclipse, bounds back off the ropes, and snatches up a tilt-a-whirl -- into a sunset flip, the pin!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Soon as they’re up, Laci has them back up with a spring up hurricanrana into the bridge!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Both back up -- Eclipse down with an enziguri! Laci doesn’t notice Ironside back up, springboarding in with a double knee smash to the shoulders! Down for a cover in the landing position!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Superkick to Max’s face from Eclipse! Eclipse takes advantage of the still downed Laci, getting back for her earlier onslaught with a ruthless series of fists from all sides. Suddenly, she springs back before hand-springing in the ring, off the ropes, spinning into a beautiful articulate legdrop maneuver! Into the pin fall.
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Eclipse takes advantage of a dazed Laci to carry her towards the top rope. Another spinning heel kick, this one to Valentine’s jaw, is to help ensure the grog. Still, Laci fights with fists and tries to push away her opponent climbing the second rope.
Charles Robinson is doing that weird referee hand thingie that Scott Armstrong does that clearly means nothing, but is to signify get off the damn ropes.
After a forearm doesn’t work, Laci desperately sends her head into Eclipse’s - her fall back first flopping her body around! Laci is not at her steadiest as she instinctively begins to adjust her body in a turn. She gears and is off…
HEAD OVER HEELS! The boots into the gut! The leg is crawled to quickly and hooked!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Eclipse has been eliminated!
Lance Storm: There’s only one entrant left! We’re down to our final four!
A massive pop is heard as Big Homunculus jogs down the ramp, the last entrant. His attention is clearly not in the ring however, as a confused Laci Valentine watches as he makes his way around the side of the ring to the broken announce booth area.
There, Big Homunculus gets down on all fours in an attempt to revive and speak to Ruxx, who has not been seen moving since the Legion made their appearance. Out of nowhere, the duo responsible for the carnage already slink behind Homunculus from the crowd.
Lance Storm: Oh no, these two must have been lying in wait!
Homunculus feels an uneasy presence and turns just in time to miss the swing from Kolotov’s Bone Batton! Action rolling out of the way in his lanky fashion, he’s able to recover in enough time to block Leslie’s double axe handle overhand strike and push her aside. He connects with a left jab to Kolotov’s jaw, before driving his head between Leslie’s breast, with a great force, into the barricade!
Cut to Laci Valentine, asking the referee about what’s going on, who tells him the same thing Quintillis told Ruxx: no one is legal until they’ve entered the ring. Ironside isn’t waiting, turning Laci around and kicking her in the gut, sending her into the ropes.
Cut to Kolotov attempting an overhead batton blow that is caught! A kick to Kolotov’s gut looses the vampire’s grip, and Homunculus uses the weapon over Leslie’s head without a second thought! Leslie Jones is down! Leslie Jones is down! Leslie Jones is down!
Cut to Laci into a wheelbarrow DDT -- no Ironside catches her in a hold similar to one he caught Priscilla in on the 30th -- but no, Laci manages it back around and rolls it into a rollup!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
KICKOUT
Cut to Barron Boneius, Alaric, and Snivley closing in on Homunculus swinging around the weapon toward a ducking and dodging Kolotov. One missed strike catches the ringpost, the vibrations painstaking, forcing the loss of grip. A well placed punch staggers Homunculus around right into Boneius’ strike, then around into the Bone Batton - wielded just barely by Snivley who hits him in his nether regions - before it’s snatched back into Kolotov’s position, for the swing over the head! The World’s Tallest Dwarf falls slow, allowing one more shot to speed up the process!
Cut to Laci Valentine having gotten the advantage over Max Ironside by this point, on the top rope yet again, Max on the other side of the ring. At that moment, the Barron slides Homunculus’ unconscious body beneath the bottom rope, much closer to her. She thinks a second and makes her choice.
HEAD OVER HEELS!
Crashing into Big Homunculus! And the cover!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Big Homunculus has been eliminated!
Down to the last three, Laci comes up to her feet and goes back to her previous task - THAT IS UP AND DROPPING HER WITH THE HAN-DECAPITATION! THE FACEBREAKER KNEE SMASH! Laci’s body limps up, then down, Ironside rolling into the leg grab.
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
Mark Beverly: Laci Valentine has been eliminated!
The arena and this gauntlet has only been left with two individuals: Max Ironside and Ruxx Rampede. Ironside is sat on his knees in the center of the ring, catching his breath when in the corner of his eye, he cannot believe what he sees.
But Tacoma, Washington can.
Up pulls Ruxx Rampede.
The top of his head bloody.
His body beaten down.
In this bitchin’ PrimeTime main event for over thirty five minutes already.
And here he is, pulling. Grabbing at the rubble of the announce table, Christian Cage’s empty announce chair, just anything to help him gather himself. Soon enough, he realizes he has only himself, and so to his stomach he goes. And he accepts that he must crawl. And crawl he does, slowly but surely.
Cut to Max Ironside, standing now and backing away to the furthest ropes from the Binman.
Cut to the leader of the Three Big Niggas forcing his way up via the apron, then the bottom rope, just pull his torso up. In the ring, he sees Ironside, and this only motivates his next pull, as he calls everything within himself to drag himself into the ring between the bottom and middle ropes.
Ironside keeps his distance as Ruxx uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet, then takes the second to establish a sense of balance. A turn.
INTO THE CRIPPLED CROSSFACE!
It’s locked in!
Over forty seconds now, of Ruxx Rampede’s stretching and pulling, with what he can! With what he’s got left!
Over a minute!
Oh God the hand!
Here it is!
The foot on the rope! Ruxx uses his length to his advantage and the ref just sees it! Ironside respectfully breaks it immediately. He does not let up on his attack, however, pulling Ruxx up despite the slippery, bloody head -- RUXX HAS HIM IN HIS GRASP - BELLY TO BELLY OVERHEAD! Across the ring!
It’s taken everything out of Ruxx until suddenly, a surge goes through him to get to his feet and back into the corner in an all too familiar position! Ironside is unawares on his rise!
RAMPEDE STAMPEDE!
NO IRONSIDE CAUGHT THE HEAD IN A SUDDEN HAN-DECAPITATION! Ruxx’s bodies springs up and down dramatically at the force and he’s left laid out like a starfish on the mat!
Ironside crawls to the cover!
Charles Robinson: ONE!...........
TWO!.......
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Ironside lets off his opponent, whose leg limps back to total stillness. Max doesn’t even seem proud as the hard camera zooms into his face. In fact, he doesn’t seem quite anything. He’s expressionless, perhaps for the first time. All he can do is stare into the camera as a deep breathing comes about him, intensifying as the referee grabs his wrist to raise his hand.
Mark Beverly: The winner of the Gauntlet for the Gold, and the number one contender for Priscilla Kelly’s AWF World’s Championship: MAX! IRON! SIDE!
Ironside allows for the referee’s acknowledgement of his win, but that’s the duration for his hand raising celebration. His focus is that camera. Or rather, who and what he knows is on the other side of that camera, staring right back. The intense face our last shot of the evening.
Max Ironside wins the Gauntlet for the Gold in 38:41
END