New Years Nightmare 2020 (Show)

[Lucky Linda]

”I am currently joined by Lucky Linda La Fey” we see SWAT interviewer Warren W Webber, he is standing with Lucky Linda wearing his tux and she is wearing a ‘Wanna Get Lucky’ t-shirt. “Linda, tonight is a huge match for you, what are your thoughts?”

“Tonight is the night Warren! The Irish Rose Bomb Angels explode! Avery McCullen, tonight, its time. Time to pay the Piper!” Linda looks intense.

“You two have a storied past, and now, it all comes down to this one match” states Warren.

“SWAT is no longer big enough for the both of us! She turned her back on me not once, but twice, the second time pretending to apologise and befriend me just so i could help her advance in the Lethal Lottery, only to once against knife me in the back, did you see the look on her face of pure ecstasy as she did that” asks Linda, more to herself but Warren jumps in

“Reminded me of my ex wife, she was one ” Warren is getting sidetracked and Linda cuts him off ...

“Not now Warren” Linda fondly pats him on the upper arm, a chime sound byte goes off in the background, and his image flashes magically as she touches him “you will love again one day. Maybe not as soon as Avery, i mean, getting it on with some cowboy while her husband is comatose in the ICU, slutty much?”

“Ooooo catty Linda. I like it, and what was that sound in the background just then, it felt like shivers went all through my body”

“That was a little catty wasn’t it.” Linda reflects, thinking for a moment. “That is what she brings out of me, this strumpet! I was done with her, we settled everything at Helloween, when i sliced her up in the barbed wire and eliminated her, i was back on track, moving forward! I rallied the troops for the War Games and was going to Captain Team SWAT, then deranged Avery has to stick her nose in my business once more, she just can’t stay away from me.”

“The both of you are former Amazons Champions. She won the $2 Million No Man’s Land Tourney two years ago on her SWAT debut, she is quite the wrestler, are you concerned you may come up short and be gone from SWAT for good?” Asks Warren.

“I am not concerned in the least. SWAT is my home. I bleed SWAT! There is no way i am losing this match, NO WAY!” determination exudes from Linda “In this life, you get what you deserve, sometimes you work hard and are wondering when that will come your way, but it does, it always does, and sometimes you take short cuts and think you have outsmarted the universe, but it always come back to bite you, ALWAYS!”

Linda is staring intently into the screen “Tonight Avery McCullen! Fate comes back to bite YOU! Right on the ass! Karma is a bitch, and her name tonight is Lucky Linda La Fey and she is coming for you Avery! Lady Luck is going to prevail, then No Mans Land and the Two Million will be mine!:

“ So, you have to ask yourself a question McCullen” Linda points to the camera “Do you feel lucky? Well, do ya? PUNK!”

“There you have it folks, Lucky Linda La Fey, ready and pumped for tonight’s loser leaves SWAT match .” Linda walks off screen, amped, the shot lingers on Warren, and a pretty stage hand walking past with a armful of papers slips, and the papers fly everywhere, she looks distraught and drops to start collecting them, Warren drops to help her and they lock eyes and the chimes sound again as we fade.

[SWAT Team]

[Skippy McScoop seated at the desk of SWAT Event Center]

Skippy McScoop: Skippy McScoop here at the SWAT Event Center to tell you how to see SWAT when they come to your town with a live event! In Spartanburg, South Carolina, Syberus will be there defending his SWAT International Championship. Also appearing, DRAMA, Trent "Mr Bones" Jones, and Suzi Spitz! Then we head on down to Marietta, Georgia where the SWAT Tag Team Champions Team Fairtex will put their titles on the line, as well as Eddie D, Tuxedo Mask, and a ladies battle royal! Then the fans in Sarasota, Florida will see SWAT World Heavyweight Champion "Fairly and Unbeatable" Jonnie Valentine, Frostbite, Christian Sebastian Kennedy, Henry ‘Hells Bouncer’ Brown! Go to SWAT.com to get your tickets while they're still available!

Jeremy Tucker: Fans, coming up is a huge moment here in SWAT. Three time Hardkore World Heavyweight Champion Rally Jackson returns to active competition.

Andrew Fulton: No longer a Tigerheart he is now a Golden God, Jerry. Rally Jackson twisted and stretched men in Hardkore World, IEUW, CNWL, CNWF. EULW, UIW, BBW, CWF, NECW, Midwest Wrestling Alliance, and FWWF.

Jeremy Tucker: Rally Jackson has won gold all over the World and even did some promoting and running a wrestling school.

Andrew Fulton: Oi, but money problems have brought him back to the squared circle, just like so many of his brethren.

Jeremy Tucker: That's true, Andy. But now he's able to show an entirely new generation of SWAT fans the wrestling style and controversy that is Rally Jackson.

Frank Salazar:The following contest is scheduled for one fall, featuring first, standing in the ring, hailing from Jamaica; Standing 6 feet 6 inches tall; Weighing 235 pounds...BENJAMIN BOLT!!!

[The crowd gives Benjamin Bolt a polite response, then "Hate or Glory" by Gesaffelstein booms and the Greenboro Coliseum rocks with boos. An overweight and bloated "The Golden God" Rally Jackson walks out in his trademark dreadlocks. He wears a lot of earings, noserings, and eyebrow rings, with a few tattoos. He wears his green capoeira gui with yellow trim]

Andrew Fulton: Blimey, he got big!

Jeremy Tucker: Time waits for no man, Andy. But it's our pleasure to have Rally Jackson back in pro wrestling. He's as vicious as they come, and wins championships wherever he goes.

Andrew Fulton: At least the local escorting service gets a big boost while he's here, i am going to have to compare notes with the man.

Frank Salazar: "And his opponent, from Rio De Janeiro, Brazil; Standing 6 feet 1 inches tall; Weighing 300 pounds...'THE GOLDEN GOD' RALLY JACKSON!!!"

[Jackson lazily raises one arm among the jeers from the audience. Tommy Mulligan signals for the bell. Jackson ducks a lock up attempt by Benjamin Bolt and drops him with a double leg takedown]

Jeremy Tucker: Rally Jackson ties up their legs and goes down into a toe hold. He cranks down on the side of Bolt's ankle and foot, torquing it to the side

Andrew Fulton: Nice to see that Rally's capoeira skills haven't faded.

Jeremy Tucker: Jackson transitions into a kneebar.

[The North Carolina fans boo as Benjamin Bolt sits up and falls back down, trying to find an escape. Jackson pulls back on Bolt's calf, trying to hyperextend his knee]

Andrew Fulton: Tommy Mulligan checking in but Bolt shaking his head, refusing to quit.

Jeremy Tucker: Rally Jackson rearranges his legs and turns it into a straight anklelock.

[Rally Jackson twists Benjamin Bolt's leg to the side, while pulling back on his foot and ankle. Bolt scoots over and grabs the bottom rope, so Tommy Mulligan forces Rally to break the straight anklelock]

Jeremy Tucker: Benjamin Bolt pulls himself up by the ropes, limping. Rally Jackson moves in for the kill, but Bolt pops him with a back elbow.

Andrew Fulton: Benjamin Bolt shoots Rally into the ropes but the veteran Rally ducks under the clothesline. Bolt gets caught on the other side with a koppo kick!!

Jeremy Tucker: The Rio Special!

[The Carolina fans boo as Rally Jackson gets back up. He pulls Bolt up onto his shoulder and flips him facefirst into a dominator!! Jackson hangs up and lifts him back up into a package piledriver]

Andrew Fulton: Sorry Miss Jackson! Jackson hangs up and lifts him back up into a package piledriver!!

Jeremy Tucker: I Am For Real!

["The Golden God" Rally Jackson leisurely gets to the top turnbuckle. He measures Benjamin Bolt and then flips into a 630 splash!! The fans have to give it up for that]

Andrew Fulton: That is 300 pounds of Brazilian coming down across Bolt's chest!

Jeremy Tucker: Rally Jackson should go for the cover here, but he is clearly winded.

Andrew Fulton: It takes a while to get into ring shape, Jerry. You wouldn't know that because the most athletic thing you've ever done is jump to conclusions.

[Rally Jackson fireman's carries Bolt onto his shoulders and sits him on the top turnbuckle. He climbs to the second turnbuckle and pulls Bolt's head into his legs. The crowd boos and Jackson snaps his head back to get the dreads out of his eyes, then piledrives Bolt off the second turnbuckle]

Jeremy Tucker: The Rio Deal!! Rally Jackson grabs Benjamin's leg and drops back into his heel hook!

Andrew Fulton: The Rio Squeal!

[The Greensboro Coliseum boos as Benjamin Bolt twists and rolls to escape, as Rally torques his foot, while clamping down on his knee with his powerful legs]

Jeremy Tucker: Rally Jackson has The Rio Squeal locked in, in the middle of the ring and Benjamin Bolt taps out!

[The audience jeers as Tommy Mulligan signals for the bell. Rally does a little extra damage with the heel hook before finally releasing it]

Frank Salazar: "THE WINNER OF THE MATCH...'THE GOLDEN GOD' RALLY JACKSON!!!"

Andrew Fulton: If money is what kept Rally Jackson out of the ring, the SWAT locker room may want to take up a collection.

["Hate or Glory" by Gesaffelstein plays as Tommy Mulligan holds up Rally Jackson's arm. He snatches it away and rolls out of the ring, ignoring a few fans with their hands out]

Jeremy Tucker: "The Golden God" Rally Jackson makes quick work out of Benjamin Bolt and puts the SWAT roster on notice.

[Trent Jones MR Bones.]

“You need to accept that you have mental health illnesses that you need help with” 

*********************************

The State Ordered DR Visit

*********************************

Trent Jones sat in a waiting room filling out forms before his appointment. Forms asking what makes him angry. He knew his answer was being here and filling out this paperwork. The walls were beautiful cement blocks painted light green. Chairs that are made to make you want to stand over sitting. These chairs fill the lobby and magazines that are old and no one wants to read it. Trent sits staring at the forms and fills out more information wanting this to be over. The women at the front desk speak up that the Doctor is ready to see him. Trent walks to the door and heads down the hallway and walks into the room with the open door.

The desk has some files on it. A lamp, stapler, and an empty coffee cup sits on the door. A woman sits at the desk she is an older lady. She looks to be in decent shape under her business suit. She points to the chair and Trent Jones sits down. He takes a deep breath as she reaches over to shake his hand and introduce herself to him.

“Hello Trent I am Dr. Phillips and I look forward to getting to know you. Being here today is the first of many steps to help you.”

Trent shook her hand but chose to stay quiet as he was processing all of this shit. He figured if he just acted normal here he could through this. Play the nice guy like he did molly… shit molly that thought just made a million memories of the one-night playback through in his head.

“So Trent tell me about your childhood?”

Trent decided to play along and give her the answers she wanted. “My parents if you want to call that were drunks they liked to drink. I played by myself a lot as a kid. Then when I was older I learned that my dad’s best friend was in a biker gang. He also was a pro wrestler before that. He took me in and eventually I was patched in and a member for many years… Recently we lost my Friend. But back to my childhood, it was full of shit but I turned out ok.”

Turned out ok… yeah being ok is being in a halfway house on medications with more meds on the way is your version of being ok. Dr. Philips was writing on her pad of paper. She wrote down somethings and look up at him, “So that’s your whole childhood, Trent? You have nothing more to add to that other than parents were drunks and dad’s friend got you into a biker club?”

“It’s not a club its a fucking gang… we dont make forts and shit this is real life… we ride our bikes… motorcycles and we drink and have fun and party.” Trent is frustrated she called it a club. He didn’t want to talk about how his parents didn’t want him and how he has no idea where they are today. “My parents never gave a fuck so I dont give a fuck back. I am not going to lie and act like I have all these great memories but they also dont make me a bad person.”

Dr. Philips writes a little more down as the two sit in complete silence. Finally, she lifts her head and Looks at Trent Jones right in the eyes, “Do you think pro wrestling is good for you? You seem to have a lot of anger issues and the violence of your sport may not be the best for you!” She watches to see his reaction.

Trent takes a deep breath and knows she wants him to lose his shit. A second deep breath as he counts down from 10….9...8...7...6...5….4….3….2...1 ah refreshed. “No, you dumb bitch I dont think pro wrestling is bad for me. It lets me fuck people up and not go to jail. It allows me to be me. Your smoking is bad for your health and I am not judging you, you judgemental bitch… What I meant to say was I need wrestling and its healthy for me, your smoking is not healthy for you. Should we talk about all the options you have to stop smoking now?” Well, that went… terribly wrong for Trent Jones.

Dr Phillips starts writing as she tries to figure out how to respond, “You see Mr. Jones I don’t smoke, but I am not here to talk about me, it’s you that needs help. You caused a riot at a strip club and strippers…”

Trent decided to interrupt, “The money-grubbing whores dont like to be called stripper they would like to be called entertainers.” Trent just smiled as he said it.

The doctor isn’t impressed, “Calling them money-grubbing is not respectful…”

Trent again cuts her off, “You seem so offended what was you a stripper when you were paying for college?”

“Do I look like I was a stripper?” Dr. Philips snapped back sounding very irritated.

Trent stops for a second and answers her question, “No, well not at least at a decent strip club, but I have seen some shit hole clubs where you would fit in. this one time I was at one and this girl got on stage and she had so much fat on her that her stomach hanged down to her knees. Her second dance she took her bra off and those tits looked like a basketball in a pillowcase. Those things were bouncing all over the place. Not saying your fat but you dont give me chub. No offense I hope we can still be friends.”

*********************************************************************

Live feed into the locker room of Trent Jones from the Arena

*********************************************************************

The prerecorded video stops playing as we see the locker room door of Trent Jones. The door is opened and smoke comes out from the room and two flash lights shine down on a steel chair. The chair has paper skulls tapped to it. A crown sits on the chair. The crown looks to be dollar store quality at best. Sitting next to the chair is a bottle of cheap vodka with a Rusian flag sticker on it. In walks, Trent Jones dressed as Duke Kosloff. He sits a candle down next to the chair and the paper skulls. He picks up his crown and places it on his head. He turns and sits down.

“I am here in SWAT because let’s face it, its the only fed that would take me in. I am here to make a name for the monster I am, feel the burn… oh, wait no I changed it… The Russian Nightmare. I am still the champion of Asylum Islands and Crazy J let me keep my belt. Trent Jones, I am coming for you and I promised a victory… and well 15% off the time I am 100% correct when I make these kinds of bets. You promised to take the trash out an guess what tonight is your chance to do that. Just make sure the dumpster is big enough to put my tall ass inside of it.”

Trent pretending to be duke reaches down and picks up the fake Russian Vodka bottle and he sips from it and spits it out.

“This is my new line of Vodka from my homelands of Russia, it’s smooth just like me. If you’re trying to impress a chick grab a bottle of Soviet Monster… oh, shit cut… That name was my old name…. action …. If you’re trying to impress a chick or a lad grab a bottle of Soviet Firestorm, you and your partner will both be feeling the firestorm when it shoots out your ass the next morning… Cut… that was wrongs as well… ok Action… So when you’re trying to impress your lady, your boyfriend, your husband or wife reach for a bottle of The Natural Born Killer Vodka it pairs really well with OJ… Not O.J. Simpson but the actual Juice… shit, that’s OJ name the juice. Cut…. acction…. Hi I am Duke Kosloff and I approve this message, When I am in the mood to get my drink on I reach for my very own bottle of Soviet Destroyer it goes down like me in a wrestling match. Side-effects include memory loss, loss of boners and can lead to ED. To be honest it should be called VD, not ED. Vagina Disappointment, because you get that fine bitch in bed and then your dick goes soft like Duke Kosloff. You see no matter what name I stick on the bottle it will be just as much of a disappointment as my wrestling career her in the XHF land of wrestling companies.”

Trent Jones as Duke sets down the bottle of vodka down as, Warren Webber walks in dressed as Crazy J. You can tell because over Warren Webber tuxedo is a white t shirt that says I am Crazy J on it. He is holding one of those shaker cups that you see all the douchebags using at the gym drinking their powder water out off. He stands next to Trent as duke.

“Duke, you need to drink the magical drink that I had made from you on the island of ...” Webber can’t recall the island name and really doesn’t want to be doing this. But he is scared of Death of Trent Jones.

“ Cut… Damn it pee wee it was… um… shit, what island was the tribal doctor on, I forgot after watching all like four episodes of AIW… just go with Renegade island… and Action.”
“Duke, you really need to drink the Magical drink I hade made for you on the island of Renegade Island.” Webber does a horrible job of pretending to be Crazy J from AIW.

“Crazy J i really miss you handpicking my matches and making them all easy jobber wins. Well except my first match where I destroyed by some dude named Hatchet or some other knife thing. But now I am in SWAT and you have no pull around here and I have to face Trent Jones. That’s not fair… I dont want to lose in my first real match. If I get kicked out of SWAT I will be back living on the Streets in Russia giving handies to the gentleman for food.” Trent Jones as Duke makes the handjob motion to make sure everyone understands it.

*******************************

A prerecorded video starts

*******************************

Back in the Doctor’s office, Trent is looking at prescriptions the Doctor has just given him. “Trent, you need to take these prescriptions, they are known to have side effects but the risk it well worth it. You have some series issues in your head and these pills will either help that or make it worse we will know soon enough.”

Trent stands up and walks out of the office. He slowly make his way to the parking lot where his motorcycle is sitting he looks up and catches Dr. Phillips smoking. He fires up the bike and drives down the street. He pulls into a pharmacy parking lot as he parks his bike. He puts the kickstand down and he walks in with the scripts in his pocket.

The scene skips to Trent Jones walking out washing down a handful of pills.

****************************

Back in the areana

****************************

Trent Jones has stopped acting like Duke Kosloff and Webber has removed the Tshirt saying Crazy J. Trent Jones has a smile on his face as he stands with Warren Webber. “Ladies and gentlemen I am backstage with the 2019 newcomer of the year in SWAT his name is…”

Trent Jones grabs the microphone, “They know my name they know that Mr. Bones is the new trash man is here. That tonight Trent Jones is here to take out Duke Kosloff out of SWAT and turn his attention on the Championship belt here in SWAT. Duke this match is going to look like the last match you had against real talent. THough those circus clowns are gone the factory team destroyed you and your boy. He was so embarrassed with you that he disappeared and quit wrestling. When the lid on the dumpster closes it will be your time to disappear. The days of you being a big name in XHF are over. I am the big man of SWAT. I am killin it here in SWAT and soon enough I will be killing it the XHF. I am the new face of this network and your just my bitch.”
Trent passed the microphone back to Warren Webber. “Trent why are you so confident that you will beat Duke tonight in this match?” Webber reaches his arm with the microphone towards Trent.

“Pee Wee you were close to saying the special word of the day. You see I used facts to come up with who is going to win. You see Duke I have seen all that you can do in matches… you have seen me play around in just a few matches. You haven’t seen the full Trent Jones yet. But I have seen all that is the DUKE Whatever name he is using Kosloff. You see Trent Jones is 100% real this is who I am. I am the man that is going to end the run of the Rusian trash.” Trent is interrupted by Webber.

“Trent, are you taking your medicine and will that have an effect on your ability to wrestle and win tonight?” Just like that Webber’s head is nailed with a steel chair and Trent screaming that’s the special word of the day.

Trent picks up the microphone and looks down at Warren Webber, “I am taking them and I feel great. But Trent Jones is going to even feel better when Duke Kosloff is crushed in the garbage truck tonight. Time for Trent Jones to show the world why I am the best of the best. These are the final moments of Duke Kosloff pathetic time in XHF” Trent picks up Chair-E and walks towards his locker room door.

“Duke, my plan was to build you up as a top talent and say this was my first big win but let’s face it there is no big win talent in SWAT it’s just Trent Jones on top of a pile of Trash. I am here to make a name for myself and that name is GOD. I Truly deserve the main event spot at every show and I will be demanding respect after this victory. I am not sitting around waiting for chances after this I am just going to take it. First off it is the slaying of the Rusian Joke… Duke see you very soon and meet the man that will end your days as a wrestler for good.”

[Jonnie Valentine]

[Psychotic Goth, Vampira, Suzi Spitz, Frostbite, and "Wildcat" Lynn Brewster step off of the shuttle bus in Palm Springs, California in front of an exclusive high end resort, Namaste]


"Wildcat" Lynn Brewster: This is a waste of time.


Frostbite: Jonnie said we had to meet him here to plan our upcoming War Games match against The KGB.


Psychotic Goth: I do not trust Jonnie Valentine. We will regret coming to this shithole. This is a place for societal degeneration, a place for growing soft and I don't believe in that and the false pleasures that come with it. This will only be a waste of my time!
(He roars in an ancient dialect.)


Vampira: My husband's right. This is going to be a waste of both our time and a total waste of Team SWAT's.
[He roars in an ancient dialect]


* The Violent Vixen grins the most wicked of grins, as she turns to look at the growling menace, through her rather well home-made superhero mask. *


Suzi Spitz : That's pretty cool, you gotta teach me how ta do that. But you two have ta cheer up some... waste of time, or not, I could give a fu*k. A free weekend in Palm Springs in the winter time?.. heh-heh... bring it on!


"Wildcat" Lynn Brewster: It is pretty warm here. It was 9 degrees when we took off. What is it now?


[Greg the assistant wheels over to them on his heelies]


Greg the Assistant: 81 degrees. Hello. I hope you all had the most pleasant of journeys.


Frostbite: It was fine.

Suzi Spitz : They confiscated my Sweet Leaf at the airport... somebody's gotta pay... I blame The K.G.B., Pesci's gone too far this time.


Greg the Assistant: Aw, super sorry to hear that. In Palm Springs, it's at nearly every corner store, also available for delivery for both humans and our four legged friends.


Frostbite: You get your dogs high?


[Psychotic Goth roars in an ancient dialect]


Psychotic Goth: I don't trust anyone who claims to be an assistant! I don't trust anyone in The New Society of the New Breed. Where is Jonnie Valentine to greet us! Where is that bastard who calls himself a world champion. Why didn't he greet us when we pulled up to this shithole dump. Is he making out with his championship title that he stole from Suzi Spitz.


* Suzi points to her Pan-Am Championship Belt, and answers, rather sarcastically, although she is very serious... *


Suzi Spitz : Yeah, we all have our off days, but hey...I'm still wearin' the title I took from Blaze Freya, baby, YEAH!


"Wildcat" Lynn Brewster: Take it down a notch, the normals are staring.


Greg the Assistant: Right if you can bare with me for just a sec, I'll take you to Jonnie.


[Bell hops grab everyone's luggage, but Psychotic Goth snatches his suitcase away and roars in an ancient dialect at them. The bell hops jump back. Psychotic Goth takes the bellhop by the throat and chokeslams him and roars in an ancient dialect and Vampira kneels to look at the bellhop]


Psychotic Goth: Now do you or anyone else want to try and take our luggage?


[Vampira gets back up]


Greg the Assistant: Right this way.


[Greg rolls on his heelies towards the pool area. He leads them to "Fairly Unbeatable" Jonnie Valentine who is lying out on a pool chair. He has cucumber slices on his eyes with a mud mask on. The SWAT World Championship title has it's own pool chair, with two cucumber slices on it]


"Fairly Unbeatable" Jonnie Valentine: Ah! They're here!


[Jonnie stands up and takes off his robe. He's wearing a thong bikini swimsuit. He walks over to the four, who try shielding their eyes]


Jonnie Valentine: Lynn! Goth! Frostbite! Why, Suzi! You certainly look different when you aren't moonsaulting me.


Suzi Spitz : You look pretty different too...


Psychotic Goth: I knew he was making out with your title Suzi. He shows nothing but disrespect for any title that he wins and treats it like a whore.


Jonnie Valentine: Frostbite. Glad you could make it out.


[Jonnie goes in for a hug]


Frostbite: Hard pass.


Jonnie Valentine: Totally fine. Lynn, thanks for coming out. I hear you used to run a wrestling company. Look at us. Couple of old promoters forced to work with the boys.


"Wildcat" Lynn Brewster: What's that smell?


* Suzi begins sniffing the air... *


Jonnie Valentine: That would either be my Himalayan sea salt body scrub, my grapefruit facial exfoliator, or weed. Vampy! Goth! Greg, can we get Goth an umbrella, he is burning up out here.


[Greg already wheels by with a two black umbrellas]


Jonnie Valentine: Thanks, Greg, He is great. What would I do without him?


[Psychotic Goth roars in an ancient dialect as he powerbombs Greg and dumps him into the pool]


Vampira: Do we look like we need umbrellas?


"Wildcat" Lynn Brewster: Greg, don't answer that. What are we doing here?


Jonnie Valentine: I was watching our employer Joe Pesci in the film Moonwalker. I couldn't help but notice leadership he showed with his mobsters that wanted to get the World's children hooked on heroin and crack. They had a dream, a purpose, and they worked together to make it happen.


Suzi Spitz : Didn't Michael Jackson decapitate everyone at the end?


Jonnie Valentine: Ok, he turned into a robot, which is blatant cheating. I doubt that will happen with the KGB. Except for Timeless. That's actually probably a real possibility with him. Greg, can we look into an attack robot version of me?


Suzi Spitz : Yeah! Like in that old timey futuristic movie about Kiss!


Greg the Assistant: (treading water) How could we find one so handsome?


Jonnie Valentine: Guy is hitting it out of the park, in the pool. Amazing. But what does the KGB have that we don't?


Frostbite: An El Camino.


Jonnie Valentine: Teamwork. The KGB has worked together for months, years. I want to use this weekend to bond and become five fingers of a fist, one mind.


Suzi Spitz : (already has a complimentary robe on) Hey, I'm totally fine with spendin' your cash for this, but... I wanna be the middle finger on your little fist thingie...


Jonnie Valentine: See? This is already working better than I planned.


"Wildcat" Lynn Brewster: I didn't fly all this way, I didn't go through all I went through with Joe Pesci to lose focus at a spa. This is for control of SWAT, you need to take this seriously. You're the World Champion now, not everything is a joke anymore.


Jonnie Valentine: On the contrary, I've never taken any match more seriously in my life. This is my chance to get rid of bullshit finishes, the undercutting of every man and woman in our locker room's hard fought wins, by winning the War Games match in Greensboro. I've been in alot of war games matches, and let me tell you. If it's 5 individuals in there, we don't have a chance.


[Frostbite, Suzi, and Lynn Brewster mull it over but begrudgingly agree. Vampira and Psychotic Goth look disgusted, and then Goth lets out a roar in an ancient dialect]


Syberus: Did they go for it?


Jonnie Valentine: (shoos his away) Too early, too early...


Vampira: What did you just say Syberus!


Frostbite: Yeah what did you just say?


[Frostbite gets right in Syberus face. Jonnie steps in between the two]


Jonnie Valentine: Guys, he means are you staying...


Frostbite: Listen I do not believe any of us really trust you. Look you are riding high because you both won championships and you are feeling yourselves, well I hope not because that is something I do not know about.


Syberus: Clearly.


Psychotic Goth: If you dare to attempt to screw us all! You shall regret it for all eternity!


[Goth roars in an ancient dialect]


Jonnie Valentine: This is my point, do you think this is happening with the KGB? Do you think people are threatening Soutter's best friends with eternal regret?


Frostbite: I agree with Goth.. I do not trust you at all, but I thought why in the hell not. I could use the warm weather and time away. But other than Goth, I do not trust any of you. Lynn does not care much for me just because I have beaten her nephew a couple of times and that alone pisses her. I am sure she wants a piece of me and at some point in time we will go at it. Suzi, we just got through a couple of weeks ago beating the hell out of the other. I still have stitches from that encounter and I am sure she does as well. So you really believe, we are going to be best buds. I doubt that.


* Suzi pouts sarcastically. *


Jonnie Valentine: I don't think I have a friend I haven't spilled a little blood with. It's the nature of our business, Frosty...


[Frostbite eyes Jonnie up and down]


Frostbite: And to be quite honest, you simply have something that I want, and that is the World title. This little exercise could be some type of strategy that you might employ down the road on any of us. Johnnie, what has made me successful is that I think outside the box and think two steps ahead of my opponents. It was not that long ago we were against each other in a six man match, and yes you did win the match but mark my words there will come a day when that title will be on the line and I will be standing across the ring from you and when that day comes I will be the champ.


[Frostbite looks at the pool]


Frostbite: I think later on, I might go for a swim, get a workout in. Your exercises might be okay for you, but the body must be sharp at all times.


[Frostbite looks around the estate]


Frostbite: And that means nobody is going skinny dipping while I am working out.


[Everybody gives him a weird look]


"Wildcat" Lynn Brewster: I...don't think that's going to be an issue.


Frostbite:. I guess I will head to my room. I guess you can have someone show to me my room. I just want to hurry up and get this thing over with.


[Frostbite grabs a blue bag and tosses it over his left shoulder]


Frostbite: This place has Wi-Fi. Must keep up with some business.


Jonnie Valentine: I can already feel the team gel.


[Psychotic Goth scoffs and storms off with Vampira in tow]


Frostbite: I guess I will see you later then.


[Frostbite walks off, leaving Jonnie, Lynn and Suzi]


Frostbite: Hey Goth wait up!


* Suzi looks at Lynn, and raises an eyebrow, before pulling out her phone, and googling the location of the nearest pot dispensary... *


Suzi Spitz : Oh, man, this is gonna be a trip...

[SWAT Team]

[Highway to Hell by ACDC hits and Hells Bouncer is standing on top of ramp, he lifts his head up and out from behind his trench coat a big mushroom cloud and a boom sound bellows, fire and fireworks explode and Hells Bouncer power walks down to the ring]

Frank Salazar : Ladies and gentleman, the following contest is scheduled for ONE fall. Introducing first, hailing from Las Vegas, NV. Coming in at 6’6 & 270 pounds ..... HENRY ‘HELLS BOUNCER’ BROWN!!!

Jeremy Tucker : Brown in the ring and he looks focused for this one Andy.

Andrew Fulton : Did he just sacrifice his father and brother because a voice in his head told him to?

Jeremy Tucker : I do believe so.

Andrew Fulton : Then tell that voice to direct him to a few other people, i have a list you know.

Jeremy Tucker : I bet you do. Who’s on it?

Andrew Fulton : Well, i could tell you Jerry, but then i’d have to kill you also, or, get HB too anyway.

Jeremy Tucker : I am not too concerned. Travis Daniels is about to take care of HB, then he is most likely to retire and disappear again anyway, so find another schmuck to do your biding and keep your stupid talk of your lists to yourself.

Andrew Fulton : (pulls out a pen and paper and frowns at Jerry while writing something down, Tucker tries to look over at what he is writing but Fulton blocks him like the kid in school who wont let you copy his answers) We will see.

[The lights go dark and there's silence for a seconds until

…Try to tear us apart but know that we'll wear our scars…

and then the music kicks in as Scars by I Prevail starts to play as Travis Daniels steps out from behind the curtain and stands on the stage looking around the arena for a few moments taking in the scenery. After those moments he slowly walks down the ramp slapping the hands of a few fans. He reaches the ringside area and takes a deep breath before walking towards the steps and walking up onto the apron and climbs up to the middle rope as the song reaches the chorus.

In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen
You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest
Don't fall too far from who you are

He jumps down into the ring and walks to the opposite ropes and climbs onto the middle rope.

They can cut us but we'll wear our scars
In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen
You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest
Don't fall too far from who you are
Try to tear us apart but know that we'll wear our scars


Travis smiles and waves at the camera, once he is done, he stands in the corner as the song fades.]

Frank Salazar : and introducing his opponent ... hailing from New York, New York and coming in at 6’2 & 221 lbs .... TRAVIS DANIELSSSSSS!!!!

Jeremy Tucker : Referee Joe Davola calls for the bell and we are underway here folks. HB charges at Daniels, a bull in a china shop and Daniels ducks under the wild swings and WHAM!! Superkick by Travis Daniels! HB is down, this could almost be over as quick as HB’s match with Radu last show!!

Daniels with a cover ......

One ...............

Two ..................

HB rolls the shoulder.

Andrew Fulton : What’s your problem with HB Jerry?

Jeremy Tucker : I don’t have a problem with him at all.

Andrew Fulton : Sure, you are riding him, bringing up that record loss he had to Radu.

Jeremy Tucker : That’s my job, call the action and state the facts, facts are, he lost to Radu in 3 seconds. Facts are, he calls out the biggest guns in SWAT on a constant basis and whenever he gets a match with any of them, he runs to the retirement home.

Andrew Fulton : So harsh. He has issues Jerry.

Jeremy Tucker : He sure does, one in the name of Travis Daniels right now laying the boots to him. Daniels picks up HB and delivers a belly to belly suplex.

Andrew Fulton : HB rolls out of the ring taking a breather, he is livid. He slams the ring apron, can he hear you Jerry?

Jeremy Tucker : No, he can’t. (looks around unsure of himself)

Andrew Fulton : HB slides back in the ring, and Travis awaits him, this guy Travis Daniels, he needs to find some balls Jerry.

Jeremy Tucker : Balls? He is a fair competitor waiting for his opponent’s tantrum to finish.

Andrew Fulton : Tomatoe, Tomotoe.

Jeremy Tucker : They hook up and HB powers Travis into the corner, then he delivers a knee to the stomach taking the wind out of Daniels as the ref was calling for a break. HB then clobbers Travis on the back of the neck with a powerful cross arm blow.

Andrew Fulton : HB is on fire, HB with repeated knee strikes to the head, HB then whips Travis to the ropes and delivers a cracking big boot!

Jeremy Tucker : HB makes the cover ....

One .................

Two ................

Kick out by Travis.

Andrew Fulton : SPINEBUSTER!!! HB with a Spinebuster and Travis is sprawled on the mat, he is rethinking his comeback right here Jerry.

Jeremy Tucker : He is doing this for his kid Andy. You saw what he had to say, his ex doesn’t even let him have anything to do with the kid, and so he is going to show that anyone can reach their dreams and accomplish what they want in this world if they work hard and try long enough.

Andrew Fulton : Tell that to Brian Acres.

Jeremy Tucker : Travis back on the offense, and he delivers a gut buster on HB. Follows it up with a neckbreaker and then a piledriver.

Andrew Fulton : Remember when the pile driver was a finisher Jerry? Now it’s a like a DDT.

Jeremy Tucker : (sighs) I remember. HB back on the offense hits a thunderous clothesline.

Andrew Fulton : HB with the Rolling Thunder.

Jeremy Tucker : Brown signalling its over .... heads up the top rope and dives for a big elbow, but Travis rolls out of the way.

Andrew Fulton : Traveloution Neckbreaker!!! - cutthroat neckbreaker

Jeremy Tucker : What a move! Daniels with the cover ....

One ....................

Two ......................

TH ... kick out by Brown.

Andrew Fulton : Knew he would kick out.

Jeremy Tucker : FULL NELSON STO!!!! It's a F'N Catastravesty!!!!

Andrew Fulton : Hurts Donut.

Jeremy Tucker : Cover by Daniels.

One ............................

Two ....................

THREE!!!!!!

Andrew Fulton : Daniels Wins!

Jeremy Tucker : Travis Daniels wins!!!

Andrew Fulton : HB is just laying there, Davola is raising the arm of Travis Daniels in victory, and HB hasn’t moved off his back since the three count.

Jeremy Tucker : Big win to Travis Daniels, he is going places here in SWAT!

Andrew Fulton : HB may be looking for another voice to help him after this debacle.

[King Syberus]

[The camera opens backstage with Syberus holding the International title belt over his shoulder. Still wearing his new multicolour percents t-shirt he turns away from a screen on which he just watched Travis Daniels beat Hells Bouncer.]



110% Syberus: Hats off to Travis for the big win. You know Hells Bouncer used to be a high percenter too? Just like me, and Psychotic Goth and Frostbite. Somewhere along the line he dropped the ball... well we know what that gets you here in SWAT. A one way ticket to beatsville. To losetown. To defeat... central...



Keep clocking those percents, Trav. I'm sure I'll see you in an International title bout before long.



Ahhh Timeless, thanks for chipping in a few lines, which were so laced with irony that you could have been in Alannis Morrisette's 90's classic, “You Oughta Know”. First there's the concept of your nickname being Sir Winsalot, which is simply false, then there's the idea that you give two shits about the belt now that you've lost it, when your incompetent ass forgot you were even champion half the time before I drilled your head into the earth's core.



Who's this Cobrin? I don't know the guy. Stop getting your panties in a twist about every two bit nobody that tried to run roughshod over 110% Syberus. I've been in this game a long time. I've been a part of locker rooms with the most devious and sadistic minds in pro wrestling. I've been blindsided more times that Roxy's had hot meals if you catch my drift. One more doesn't bother me. I'm 110% Syberus. The SWAT International Champion. And it's kind of sad that after losing to me the best you can come up with is the fact that some other time some other guy managed to lay a beat down on me when my back was turned.

[He gives a double thumbs up.]



110% Syberus: Score.



[Syberus walks over to an exercise bike which he sits on pedalling while eating a sherry trifle. He flicks to the next page of Rene Decartes “Meditations on First Philosophy” at the same time, because 110% Syberus gives it 110% in all things. Just like my man Travis Daniels. Up and comer right there.]



110% Syberus: The KGB want to gouge rends into the Society of the New Breed by pitting the three of us against each other while they try and lay into my friend, mentor, and man I will never betray and who will never betray me, SWAT World Heavyweight Champion Jonnie Valentine in the main event. It's not gonna happen. The Society of the New Breed is the mark of wrestling excellence. And like Jonnie says, we've been around the block enough to have bled into pretty much every one of our friends in the business at one point or another. Hell it seems like only yesterday I was swatting away Marty's challenge to my Heavyweight title!

'aint that right Marty?



Ah, nevermind.



I see there's some newcomers to SWAT and as the International Champion that means one thing... new challengers. Each and every one of these guys and gals is going to want to have a shot at this championship as they try and climb the ranks, with a view on becoming World Heavyweight Champion one day. I mean hell, they can't be any worse than Timeless Alex Turner can they?

Can they?

Please don't be!!

Marty, Tux, you guys know what's coming. The three of us are gonna steal the show and whatever happens, the International title is still gonna be in the Society camp. But will that break the sacred bonds of eternal friendship that we've forged here in SWAT?

Hell no! That's exactly what they want!

We're the Society of the New Breed! The guys guys like Timeless and Radu Matei wish they were- you know, entertaining, and halfway relevant. And with the highest percenter in SWAT, 110% Syberus putting in the percents, you just KNOW this show down is gonna be a classic for the ages.

And then as International Champion?

Timeless get your weak self to the back of the line.

I want Travis Daniels. I want Eddie D. I want Duke Kosloff. I want these guys coming in here with hunger and talent that want to make a name for themselves against the best that's ever tread the canvas.



Let's ring the changes.



[Fade.]

[mosler]

[The Best of times.]

Joe Pesci Training Montage for New Years Nightmare...




[STAR WIPE: Having reached his PEAK physical condition, we're talking Goku in season 8 of Dragon Ball Z, Joe Pesci is ready to drop the SPIRIT BOMB in the main event.  If only he had trained in blood sports instead of basketball.  Still the SWAT owner is fairly confident in his conditioning and won't blow up until at least the four minute mark.  He can beat Radu in 2.]

Zoran Sainovic: You can defeat Rad in 2!

Joe Pesci: Really?

Zoran Sainovic: Sure, ze referee will slap ze canvas twice, and we'll just call for ze bell at 2 like it was a z3 count.

Joe Pesci: Oh.  I thought you meant two minutes.

Zoran Sainovic: ...And I zought we agreed no substance abuse during your training.  Two minutes?  What ze hell are you smoking, Jo?  Two minutes?  Zis is ze main event of your biggest show of ze year!  Give ze people a spectacle!  Go broadway!  Are you telling me you don't zink you can hang with Rad for an hour?!

Joe Pesci: Um... of course I can!

Zoran Sainovic: Good, I'll make it an hour long Iron Man match!

Joe Pesci: Nah, quality over quantity...

Zoran Sainovic <sadistic grin as he does the math in his head>: If we assume a zree count is zree seconds, it could be ze first match in history with a result of 1200 to none. <scientific curiosity fades as he sees his employer turning beat red> I believe zat you would be ze one MAKING ze 1200 pins, and not ze other way around...

Joe Pesci <eyes narrow as he realizes that his insurrance policy might be plotting to humiliate him>: NO GOD DAMNED IRON MAN MATCH!  And I'm not smoking anything!  Ever since I decided to END Radu's career, I have been getting back my fighting spirit!  My body is a freakin' temple!

Zoran Sainovic: Like-

Joe Pesci: Not one of the crumbling ones covered in weeds in Mexico, more like one of those 24 karat gold ones in Thailand.  I've even taken a vow of celibacy until the fight is over.

Zoran Sainovic: Even ze ladies of ill repute?

Joe Pesci: I'm blowing my whole hooker budget on mercenaries.

[The camera pulls out from the intimate conversation between SWAT's owner and interim commissioner to reveal their location as Pesci's office.  He usually transforms one of the rooms in the arena into a gaudy Italian restaurant to go with his mafia stereotype, but tonight the surroundings are more like Skeletor's Castle.  Dank.  Sinister.  Slimy.  Cartoonish.  Bursting with henchmen.  You recognize a few.]

Cousin Luigi: Wow that's a fortune!

Joe Pesci: You ain't kidding!

Zoran Sainovic: You don't need zem.

Joe Pesci: I'm not leaving anything to chance!  Radu Matei is expecting to slaughter me!  Me!  JOE!  The heart and soul of SWAT!  Even half dead, that conceited motherfucker is acting like this is a cake walk.  What a joke!  I've spent 2019 grinding him into dust!  He's on his last fucking legs!  He thinks he has enough step to finish me?  Think again.  I'm the last fucking nail.  I'm going to tap dance on his grave!  No one is going to save him.  I have an ARMY here... the best money can buy.  They need no introduction.

[....]

Zoran Sainovic <cringing as he tries to place faces>: ...let us say zey do.

Joe Pesci: If you're going to keep the commish job, you really need to start following the product.  Fine... Joe's All Stars!  Tonight I have the following watching my back...

Former three time SWAT DIXIE Heavyweight Champion

Original FireRed Ninja



The longest reigning SWAT Marineland Champion...

"Killer Shark" Ray Sharkey



SWAT Australia's favorite son...

DEATH ADDER




The longest reigning SWAT MOON heavyweight champion... that's the region that existed on the Moon...

Pyx



The 1974 Philadelphia Flyers



Ditka



The Xenomorph Queen



The territory of...

Guam




Radu's 5th grade teacher

Ms. Wharton




Cybermen




And lastly, former SWAT Ultimate Champion, current SWAT Backyard Owner, and possibly Destiny Wrestler if Ben ever gets back on discord...

"The Appendage Assassin"
LEFT Tentacle



[There are more, but the rest need no introduction.]

Zoran Sainovic: You had my interest piqued up until ze last one.

LEFT Tentacle: Hi Mr. Sainovic!

Joe Pesci: He swings a mean chair.  The kid can't see anything so he's like a machine!  Two years ago tonight, I put a bounty out... one hundred dollars a headshot.

LEFT Tentacle: Can do, Mr. Pesci!

Joe Pesci: No wait!

#SMACK#
#SMACK#
#SMACK#
#CRASH#
#WHAM#
#BOOM#
#SNAP#
#CRACKLE#
#POP#
#BOOF#

[The cameraman ducks under cover as the chaos ensues.  The screams of agony draw images of Dante's seventh circle of hell to your mind.  The pain and suffering is unimaginable.]






[...]







[When the clanging of metal finally draws to a close, the camera slowly peaks out to find Pesci and Sainovic still sitting at a desk.  The man in the stupid felt costume dressed as a Maniac Mansion tentacle stands triumphant atop a mass of unconscious and heavily injured mercenary army.]





LEFT Tentacle: Don't worry Joe, Guam had me on the ropes, but I've saved you!






Joe Pesci: ...YOU FUCKING MORON!!!




Zoran Sainovic: At least you still have ze KGB.

Joe Pesci: Sure, but we have tons of time till the match, we can just dust these heavy hitters off.

Zoran Sainovic: A few of zem look dead.

LEFT Tentacle: I'm just glad I could be here in your time of need.

Joe Pesci: I'm going to kill you!

[And he would.  The only thing saving LEFT Tentacle from the raging SWAT Owner is the river of acid spilling out of the Xenomorph Queen that now separates them.]

LEFT Tentacle: I have to run if I'm going to kiss my girlfriend at midnight.  She's definitely real by the way.  Her name is Tanya.  I'll send the bill in the mail, Joe.

Joe Pesci: You're CHARGING me for this...

[Unable to hear Pesci's question over the wails of agony coming out of Killer Shark, LEFT Tentacle exits.]

Joe Pesci: When I'm through with him... WAIT... he's also LEAVING?!

Zoran Sainovic: His work here is done.

Joe Pesci <muttering to himself>: With friends like these...

Zoran Sainovic <stepping over Ditka>: You have potential hall of famers.  More KGB members zan are in matches.  Rookies just aching to get to ze top of ze card.  Your opponent has beaten ze entire roster.  Zat makes him loved by ze fans, but ze people who failed against him?  Radu has enemies.  If you would feel more comfortable with allies, zere will be more zan enough of zem, Jo.  Regardless, since you're ending his career tonight, I want my pound of flesh.  So you can count on me to be involved no matter what.

Joe Pesci <nodding>: I know.

[Joe looks around at his army again sadly, before returning to his pissed off resolve.]

Joe Pesci: We made him cry with that jobber putz.  By the time I'm through with him, he'll wish Acres had won.

[As bodies start to sink in the river of acid, the two men turn to leave as well...]

[Colin Trentwood]

It was in these quiet moments, these periods of stillness, that he for a moment managed to forget the bleak reality that surrounded him. What he had become. The distances he had travelled. What now separates him from the man he used to be. Time was he could look at himself in the mirror and not be sickened by what he saw. Not be ashamed. But those simpler times now feel like an age away. Time moves so quickly and yet, so stealthily when you let it. When you fail to register the shifting sands as they slip through your fingertips. It doesn't pass with the gushing of a hurricane... but with the silky silent slide of a silk handkerchief falling out of a jacket pocket unnoticed. 

No blaring lights for the moment. No screeching, wailing, suffocating soundwaves. No quotes on local radio or social media. No desperate clawing for attention, for fame, for recognition. This was a moment Colin Trentwood had all to himself before the tragic cycle began again. He drew in through a cigarette, looking at this reflection in his trailer blankly, barely recognising the man that stares back. He closes his eyes, basks in the calm for a few more seconds, before crushing out the cigarette on the sink and leaving out of the door.

[Trentwood appears on the outside in his shiny, obtuse sequinned tuxedo all smiles and laughter for the camera.]

Colin Trentwood: Hey hey!! It's time!! I'm here!! Make way for the zwingliest, zwangliest entertainer in town! SWAT is about to get an earful, and eyeful, a mouthful of my delicious content- no rest, no end! Consume, observe, take it all in! I'm Colin Trentwood! 

And I know what you're thinking!!!!

"This guy Colin Trentwood, does he ronkle? Does he donkle? DOES HE CRINKLE OR CRONKLE?!?!" And to all of the above I'll have to say...

[Someone tosses him a top hat and cane expecting him to do a number.]

Colin Trentwood: You bet I do!!!

[He throws the props back.]

Colin Trentwood: SWAT be warned!! Wrestling be warned!! We're about to have a lot of fun together! HEY HEY!!

[He slams the door of the trailer behind him and we can hear faint sobbing from inside as the camera fades.]

[kocc]

CSK is sitting out in his limo with multiple people as he glances down at a chessboard. Reading a rather lengthy sheet of paper he yawns and tosses it out the window while moving a few pieces around on the gold plated chess board.

CSK: Another decade, a new location, same names, same faces, same ol' bullshit. Blah, blah, blah I've heard it all before. So I come back after several years of doing my own thing and how am I treated? Seriously? I asked for one thing and I get goldielocks?

Personal assistant: It's Doomsday sir.

CSK: Bloomers?

Personal assistant: Doomsday.

CSK: You're gay? Look that's none of my business and keep your personal life to yourself. What is the name of my opponent?

Personal assistant: Sir you're facing a twanger named Doomsday.

CSK: Sigh.....never heard of him. Is all of that nonsense in the transcript I read from him?

Personal assistant: Yes sir, that came from your opponent.

CSK: Oh dear lord I was seriously brought back for this crap? I don't know who in the hell is running this ship but seriously? You get a hall of fame legend in myself and you show your appreciation by sticking me in the ring with some no name scheeze? Ugh, I don't really want to address some no name but here it goes.

Doomsday? Look kid I've forgotten more about this industry then your adolescent mind will ever have the ability to comprehend. I've won more matches then you will most likely ever have in your career. I've also won more titles then you'll probably ever have chances to get laid. I mean you have to be some second class loser to surround yourself with the goonies.

So allow me to set the record straight. I don't know who is doing what and to be quite honest I really don't give two flying monkey fucks either. Hardkore invading SWAT? Maybe some of the best of the best are sick and tired of seeing little snot nosed brats pretending to be wrestlers and they came to put an end to their fantasies. Let me lay it out on the line for you like this.

You're butt hurt because we both know that you want me to join your little faction. And I emphasize the world little. I heard what those strippers said about you the other night. Fairly sad that they returned your money and actually gave you a tip in return. And again I lose the word tip very loosely.

One thing is made very clear to me and that this place is gang warfare and there is strength in numbers but I'm not interested in joining the goonies. It doesn't matter if it's "SWAT", the KGB, the Society or eenie meenie mini moe where or fucking where will CSK go? I know where I'm going to go, and I know when I'm going to do it and that's for another time and place.

So icepot, you just bring your goonies to the ring with you. Keep in mind, I have friends in low places and I have never needed to rely on anyone but I'm not opposed to having a good ol' fashioned bar room brawl either.

A few pieces are moved around on the chessboard as CSK adjusts his tie and exams the board for a few minutes before sliding pieces around.

CSK: You know kid you're like everyone else who's come into this industry. You think you can walk into the ring and make a career and build a name off of trying to defeat me? Listen up fry guy. While you're stuffing your face with greasy burgers that some thirteen year old probably wiped his fingers on after picking his ass and then doubling down with fries that are probably more stale and loaded with sodium then one can imagine, i'm always training and busting my ass whether I'm in this profession or not.

I applaud you for being anxious and having ambition. But junior there is a difference between having ambition and having delusions. You my friend have nothing but delusions. So you bring heckle, jeckle and little marry poppins to the ringside area. I was never afraid of El Eigante and I'm sure not around of the blues clues team either.

But i'll be damned if after taking a break from the profession that I love, if some punk ass zit faced kid is going to make a name at my expense and put a blemish on my career all because some fat, out of shape dumbass wanted me to be his personal bitch and do his dirty work for him. I didn't come back to collect titles or join some 4H club or even the damn girl scouts. I came back for cherry on top of my career and when the time comes everyone will know what that cherry is. Probably wilted and sour by now but I'm still going for it.

You know all about wilted and sour don't your Doom and gloom?

So you bring your goonies to the ring, and you dig up the corpse of Lacey Peterson and you carry her down to the ringside area as well. I promise you that much like Lacey Peterson won't rise up from the dead, you my friend won't make a name off of beating me.

And to the damn joker running this company, net time you book me on some damn card to sell out your arena I suggest you put me in the ring with someone worth my time and effort, and not some snot nosed kid who has spent his life jerking off to the JC Penny's bra section while eating burgers and fries.

And to everyone else out there, you can sit back and salivate all you want thinking you've got the chance of a lifetime to bring in CSK to make your group actually mean something in the year 2020. But whether I join any of you and let's face it I'm most likely out of the price range of a majority of you, or whether I stand on my own, one thing about CSK the KOCC is for sure......

The limo door opens as a group of people carry his bags and offer him a glass of scotch. CSK moves a few more pieces around on the chessboard and slowly exits the limo adjusting his tie and polishes off the scotch.

CSK: A king is nothing without a queen so take a few minutes, reflect on history and ponder that thought. But rest assured no matter who ends up with my services, I hold the winning hand.

CSK drops four cards onto the ground that land face up to show 4 aces as he enters the building leaving us with the initials KOCC.

[SWAT Team]

[“Killing in the Name of” by Rage Against the Machine comes into play and Doomsday steps through the curtains, the crowd gasping at his 7'3 frame.]

Frank Salazar: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, introducing first, from Portland, Oregon, standing 7'3 and weighing 380 lbs... DOOMSDAY!!!

[Doomsday strides down to the ring with his eyes fixed upon the centre.]

Jeremy Tucker: Up next is the returning CSK versus the 7'3 giant of a man- Doomsday!

Andrew Fulton: Kennedy will want to return with a bang here no doubt about that. What better way than picking up a win straight off the bat. But to do that he's going to have to beat an absolute colossus.

Jeremy Tucker: Look at the size of this guy.

[Doomsday steps over the ropes with ease. He paces the ring and awaits his opponent. The lights go out with a spotlight dimming on center stage as “Vilify” by Device hits. CSK is shown with his back facing everone and his arms spread out. Black lights are used in the arena until getting into the ring. He turns around and dumps a golden chalice filled with some strange liquid over the top of his head. It's considered his holy water.]

Frank Salazar: And his opponent, from the Hollywood Hills, standing 6'4 and weighing 245lbs... CHRISTIAN SEBASTIAN KENNEDY!!!

[Doomsday and CSK lock up dead centre. The two men jostle for position for a moment before CSK turns him around into a hammerlock.]

Jeremy Tucker: Doomsday with the reversal, but CSK swings a back elbow that misses. Doomsday cuts him off with a chop across the chest with that massive hand! Look how that rocks CSK!!

Andrew Fulton: Irish whip by Doomsday, who takes Kennedy down with ease with a shoulder block.

[Doomsday picks up CSK and goes for a vertical suplex but there's a block from CSK. CSK rallies with an uppercut and forces Doomsday back into a corner.]

Jeremy Tucker: Strong right hands from Christian Sebastian Kennedy here, wearing down Doomsday in these early stages.

Andrew Fulton: Kennedy with the irish whip, Doomsday impacts into the opposite turnbuckle, but CSK charges in with the splash and Doomsday moves out of the way!

Jeremy Tucker: CSK just catches the turnbuckle, and Doomsday nails a clothesline!!

Referee Frederik Gunnarson: 1... (CSK kicks out)

Jeremy Tucker: Doomsday pulls CSK up by his head. CSK rallies back with some chops across the chest.

Andrew Fulton: Both men now trading chops, lighting up each others' chests!

Jeremy Tucker: Doomsday cuts it short with an uppercut, whips CSK to the ropes then takes him down with another shoulder tackle!

Referee Frederik Gunnarson: 1... (CSK kicks out)

Jeremy Tucker: Doomsday going in on CSK again but Kennedy catches him out with a jaw breaker!!

Referee Frederik Gunnarson: 1... (Doomsday kicks out)

[CSK leaps onto Doomsday and latches on with an arm lock.]

Jeremy Tucker: Armlock applied, Doomsday looks to be in some discomfort here.

Andrew Fulton: He should be – CSK is going to wrench that arm right off!

Jeremy Tucker: What a boost it is for SWAT to have Christian Sebastian Kennedy back in the ranks, such an experienced wrestler will surely add something to the main roster.

[The referee asks Doomsday if he wants to submit but he refuses. Doomsday starts to battle back to his feet.]

Jeremy Tucker: CSK breaks the armlock and drops Doomsday back down with a forearm smash.

Andrew Fulton: CSK runs the ropes but gets caught out with a flapjack!!

[Doomsday grabs CSK by the head and starts to violently choke him with the ropes. The referee starts his count and causes Doomsday to break it up. Doomsday roars at the crowd and nails CSK with a spinebuster.]

Jeremy Tucker: High impact on that spinebuster!! That looks like agony!

[CSK's back arches off the canvas as Doomsday towers over him. Doomsday lifts him up into a military press and drops him onto the canvas.]

Jeremy Tucker: CSK comes crashing down full weight! Doomsday throwing him around like a rag doll!!

[Doomsday pulls up Kennedy by the hair. He turns him up with ease into a body slam.]

Referee Frederik Gunnarson: 1... 2... (CSK kicks out)

[CSK staggers back to his feet. Doomsday charges in but CSK ducks and Doomsday impacts fully into the turnbuckle.]

Jeremy Tucker: CSK dropkicks Doomsday into that turnbuckle again and the giant looks winded. CSK comes off the ropes with a low drop kick taking the legs out from underneath the giant.

Andrew Fulton: Great work chopping him down to size!

Jeremy Tucker: CSK with a knee drop to the face!!

Referee Frederik Gunnarson: 1... (Doomsday kicks out)

[Doomsday gets back to his feet holding his face. CSK roars in with a back elbow shattering against Doomsday's jaw. The big man is now reeling and stumbles back into the corner again.]

Jeremy Tucker: Kennedy comes in with the big splash, driving his whole body weight into the giant!

[Doomsday falls to one knee and CSK comes off the ropes with a running knee strike to the side of the head!]

Andrew Fulton: This is great work from the veteran!

Referee Frederik Gunnarson: 1... 2... (Doomsday kicks out)

Jeremy Tucker: CSK stalks the giant and nails an Enziguri!!

Referee Frederik Gunnarson: 1... 2... (Doomsday kicks out)

Andrew Fulton: Doomsday is still alive but this is great offence from CSK.

[Kennedy charges at Doomsday but has to duck a clothesline. Doomsday takes him down with a big boot.]

Jeremy Tucker: Ooohh CSK going right into that one!!

[Doomsday picks CSK up into a spinning torture rack and nails a backbreaker.]

Jeremy Tucker: MEET YOUR MAKER!! This could be it!!

Referee Frederik Gunnarson: 1... 2... (CSK kicks out!)

Jeremy Tucker: What?!

Andrew Fulton: I can't believe it!!

Jeremy Tucker: How did CSK kick out of that?

[Doomsday roars with rage and pulls CSK into a double underhook piledriver.]

Jeremy Tucker: WELCOME TO HELL!!

Andrew Fulton: That's putting it lightly... CSK has gone limp!!

Referee Frederik Gunnarson: 1... 2... 3!!!

Jeremy Tucker : No!!!! CSK got a foot on the ropes.

Andrew Fulton : Lucifer on the outside is irate, the throws Kennedys foot off the ropes and jumps up on the apron, screaming at Gunnarson is was three!

Jeremy Tucker : Gunnarson showing him the foot was on the ropes and telling him to cool it or Doomsday will be DQ’d, Doomsday moves over and starts yelling at Gunnarson also, both giants in his face intimidating him.

Andrew Fulton : CSK runs and bounces of the ropes and then a jumping knee into the back of Doomsday, sends him crashing head first into his own tag team partner Lucifer!

Jeremy Tucker : Lucifer is down on the mat, CSK with a pump handle flipping release half nelson.

Andrew Fulton : Lucifer jumps back up on the apron and steps over the top rope and CSK mists him in the eyes with the Green Mist!

Jeremy Tucker : Crowd going beserk for the mist!

Andrew Fulton : Doomsday coming at CSK ... leapfrong transitioned into a one-handed bulldog

Jeremy Tucker : Referee ushering Lucifer out of the ring, he can’t see a thing, Doomsday back to a verticle base! LOW BLOW!!! Terrible low blow from CSK! Doomsday may be over 7 foot but i think his balls just went ten feet high!

Andrew Fulton : Roll up ... CSK with the roll up ....

Referee Frederik Gunnarson: 1... 2... 3!!!


Jeremy Tucker : Kennedy wins!

Andrew Fulton : What a return!

Jeremy Tucker : CSK slides out of the ring and heads to the back the thrill of victory rushing thru him, Doomsday and Lucifer are irate and having a tantrum, throwing things around the ring and screaming at Gunnarson. Road agents surround them and we fade to the back.

[averymccullen]

Act 1: A few Words


“The heart wants what it wants. And I know what I want…”

The scene opens on the parking area of the arena. The stage hands made their way along the hallways finishing any last touches for the show before it began. The crowds had already gathered and had been let in early to get a few autographs and pictures of their favorite superstars as they headed inside. A truck soon pull up and we see a young man dressed in a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt that read "If you can read this then the bitch fell off", and a cowboy hat on his head. He walks around the front of the truck and opens the door, and we see Avery stepping out and taking his hand. He closes the door and they head off toward the backstage area. They pass by a few other superstars as they head down the long hallway.

Johnny: Are you ready?

Avery: More than I have ever been in my life. This is where it all ends.

Johnny: What is her issue anyway? I mean even I can see what happened.

Avery: At least someone understands why I did what I did. Mike and I were having issues long before he went into the coma.

Johnny: Well I don't want to come between you an Mike if there's still something there.

Avery shakes her head and smiles softly.

Avery: Like I said, we were having problems long before that. And tonight I finish what I started with Linda.

Johnny: You know I'll be here for whatever happens.

Avery: I plan on winning this match no matter what I have to do to beat her. She thought it was over. I don't like to leave loose ends.

They round the corner and run into Glenda. She smiles as Avery looks over at Johnny.

GG: Avery! Just the person I wanted to see.

Avery: Do you want to go on without me?

Johnny: If you want me to.

Avery: I'll meet you in my locker room.

He kisses her on the cheek and walks off as Avery watches him walk off.

GG: That must be your new beau huh?

Avery: He's a friend. He's been helping me through a lot...

GG: That's not what has been going around.

Avery: Listen I don't give a damn about the rumors, and what has been said. My personal life isn't anyone's business but my own. Now are you going to ask me something or...

GG: I'm sorry Avery. Just trying to get a feeling for what's going on.

Avery goes to push past her, but sighs.

Avery: I'm sorry Glenda... It's been difficult. Johnny has been a great friend, and he really has helped me through a lot. With this match coming up and everything I've been busy, and distracted.

GG: I can imagine. With your daughter and training for your match against Linda it must be hard on you.

Avery: It can be. But I have family that have been helping with her.

GG: Are you ready for your match against Linda?

Avery: I am. I know this is a match that can change everything as we know it. I mean whoever loses this match will have to leave SWAT.

GG: What will you do if you lose?

Avery: I don't plan on losing. I plan on winning this match and putting Linda out once and for all. I'm not going to make it easy for her. She wanted a battle and I'll give her one. I'm not afraid of anything that she can throw at me. But if I somehow lose... I'll move on, and retire from the business. Settle into a peaceful life for at least a while.

GG: That sounds like you have a plan.

Avery: I do, but like I said, I'm not going to lose. Linda has a fight on her hands, and in the end I'll be the one that walks away with the win. Linda I heard what you had to say and I have to admit your full of yourself, and think you already have this match won. But you forget I've held the Amazon Title and I was and always will be better than you. This is the end of whatever was between us.

GG: Good luck tonight.

Avery smirks.

Avery: The only one that's going to need luck, is Linda... But her luck just ran out. See you soon Linda... And good luck, you're going to need it.

Avery walks off and leaves Glenda alone once again, as the scene fades to black.

[philblauer]

[The Imperial March by John Williams begins to play as a procession of dirty Stormtroopers march down the entrance ramp.]

Andrew Fulton: Dear god almighty! The Quds force are storming the arena and to think the gang of eight scoffed at reports of imminent threats. Spare me! I was a huge Soleimani fan. Ask Rose! Ask Kapernick!

Jeremy Tucker: Will you stop it! Those are just Imperial stormtroopers from fictional Star Wars franchise. I would guess they are from the post Return Of The Jedi era judging by how beat up their armor is.

Andrew Fulton: How do you possibly keep any of those films straight? Every single one has a different bland, brunette English lady.

Jeremy Tucker: The key is the stormtrooper mask. They change the helmet up each time to sell more 12.00 action figures.

[The troopers at the end of parade carry out a giant replica of the floating Crib from The Mandalorian.]

Jeremy Tucker: I would commentate on what is happening, but I fear we are entering spoiler territory.

[The crib is placed in the center of the ring. A trooper presses a few buttons and it slowly opens. Inside we see a fluffy pillow. A hole has been cut in it and Marty Donovan's head sticks out. Beneath his head is a tiny little puppet body like they used to do on Welcome To Weinerville. Marty's face has been painted green. He does a big fake yawn as a stormtrooper holds a microphone for him.]

Marty: Oh, sorry I didn't see you there. I was just enjoying my space nap. It is important that us Baby Yogas get lots of shut eye.

Jeremy Tucker: Did he say Yoga?

[ Some of the crowd boos. Others chant Baby Yoda. Andrew Fulton yells out "Death To America" just to be safe.]

Marty: I was all tuckered out from watching all the great content on Disney Plus. The best part is I haven't even scratched the surface yet. Why it would take you 30 hours alone just to watch every episode of that shitty Roger Rabbit clone.

Andrew Fulton: It was called Bonkers. Steven wouldn't give them the rights.

[The crowd starts chanting "Fight forever" for no reason other than to talk about how great they were later on twitter.]

Jeremy Tucker: Marty Donovan has a title match tonight. You would think he'd focus on that instead of schilling streaming services.

Marty: Sadly, I have not come before you to speak of the wonders of Disney Plus. I'm afraid more pressing matters have forced me to do the unthinkable. All good things In life have to come to an end and well…

[Marty chokes back tears before regaining his composure.]

Marty: Tradition. Legacy. Lineage. When you come from the wrestling stock that 10% Marty comes from, these words mean something. International wrestling will never truly die. It will never die!

Jeremy Tucker: Wait a minute.

Marty: No matter what I've done throughout that time one rule has stayed true – ALWAYS BE BRANDING. So we don't rechristen the International Championship here in SWAT lightly tonight. We do it with respect to every mail order mattress company that led the way.

Jeremy Tucker: You have got to be kidding me.

Andrew Fulton: Finally, I'm so sick of this damn International title. It has been stale for years.

Marty: The time may come when International wrestling is brought to the fore again. It will be hard to notice though, since we will all be at THE GALAXY'S EDGE.

[ A trooper pulls off the silk cover to reveal a hideous new title. The entire thing is white and orange with a spinning BB-8 center plate.]

Jeremy Tucker: Wrestling is dead.

Marty: Feast your eyes upon Disney's Galactic Championship. Not only is it beautiful to look at, but it also functions as a Fast Pass...excluding Splash Mountain during peak hours. Sharp eyed fans will also notice the side plates honoring some of the celebrities from this season of The Mangolorian.

[The trooper rotates the belt for the crowd to see. On the left is a side plate showing that time Gina Carano's dad shielded her naked body with a towel. The right side plate shows that time Bill Burr cut a 12 minute rant on Philadelphia at one of those awful Opie & Anthony concerts.]

Jeremy Tucker: Folks, I can only apologize.

Andrew Fulton: Get that towel out of the way!

Marty: What better way to kick off this new era than defending the title against a legend like Syberus and an unknown, hungry newcomer like Tuxedo? Best of luck gentlemen, but I don't plan on dropping the strap. This baby gets you half price Bespin Fizz at the cantina!

[The Imperial March plays once more as the troopers exit the ring. They forget Marty, who is desperately trying to yell over the music to them. The sellout is trapped in the metal crib in the center of the ring as the shot fades out.]

[SWAT Team]

Jeremy Tucker: Our cameras are focused on the top of the ramp way as we see a dumpster as we are about to have our dumpster match where Duke Kosloff will take on Trent Jones.

Andrew Fulton: Two very big men this should be rather interesting.

Jeremy Tucker: The Russian Nightmare stands seven foot four and weighs in at 297 and Trent Jones is no small man himself as he stands six foot six and weighs in at 354 pounds.

Andrew Fulton: For those who are never ever heard of a dumpster match. No pinfalls or submission you must simply toss the man in the dumpster and close it shut and you get the win.

Jeremy Tucker: That basically sums it up.

Andrew Fulton: I hope this is a quick match because I can smell that thing all the way down here at ringside.

Jeremy Tucker: And I thought that was your shorts. I mean dude what did you eat.

Andrew Fulton: I had shrimp, and some lobster you know the KGB eat in style. Maybe you should begin to cheer them on and pay Paul some respect maybe I could get you in and you can eat like a king.

Jeremy Tucker: I understand I am getting word from the back that something is going on backstage.

Andrew Fulton: When it is not around here.

Jeremy Tucker: Trent and Duke are going at it backstage. Both men throwing rights and lefts at the other. Duke turns around and grabs a cup of coffee from a young lady and he throws it right into the face of Trent Jones. He sees the same young lady had a phone with her he quickly grabs that and he smashes right over Trent Jones’ head.

Andrew Fulton: Well I hope the young lady had insurance on that phone. Maybe Duke can buy her a cup of coffee after the show.

Jeremy Tucker: He grabs Trent by the back of his neck ad he takes him over to the concession stands as he tosses him right over the booth. Duke just steps over the booth and he spots a popcorn machine and he just rips up the machine and he comes crashing down across the skull of Trent Jones. Duke begins to put the boots to Trent’s head. He pulls him up as he spots a kid walking by with some Cotton Candy as he grabs it put of his hands and rubs it right into Trent eyes.

Andrew Fulton: Duke is taking too many liberties with the fans and their stuff, he is going to give us all a bad rep.

Jeremy Tucker: You already have done that for us. Duke pulls up Trent as he picks him up and drives him right through the concession table with a huge spinebuster. He pulls Trent up and pulls him toward a locked cage somewhere backstage as he tosses him face first. Duke begins to bounce his face off the cage down. Duke rips off the cage door.

Andrew Fulton: Wait is that where the electric stuff to this arena is at.

Jeremy Tucker: Duke gets ready to Irish whip him into a generator, but Trent reverses it as Duke goes back first. Trent throws a series of rights and lefts to Duke’s head. Trent picks up Duke and connects with a fallaway slam as Duke goes back first into the generator.

Andrew Fulton: I am surprised we have not had a blackout. Jones absorbing all of Kosloff’s early onslaught and now he is going to rip him a new one.

Jeremy Tucker: Trent looks down as he finds a cord on the floor as he begins to choke Duke with it. Duke is gasping for air, as Trent let's go off the cord and he grabs Duke as he tosses him face first into the cage. Trent spins Duke around and connects with a release German suplex as he tosses him around backstage.

Andrew Fulton: Trent spots a nearby trash can as he slams it right across the head of Duke. He takes the lid from the can, as he places it right across his throat as he comes crashing down with his boot right across Dukes front and he grabs his throat.

Jeremy Tucker: Duke is gasping for air. Trent pulls him to his feet as he spots what appears to be a large toolbox backstage. He reaches inside the toolbox as he finds a screwdriver, as he begins to dig it into the head of Duke. Trent pulls Duke to his feet but in the process, Duke kicks him right in the nuts. Duke picks him up and hits a pump handle slam right on the red toolbox. Duke picks up the toolbox and he slams it right down across Trents chest. As he just about knocks the wind out of Trent. Duke pulls up Trent as he sees a local cab in the arena.

Andrew Fulton: Ah guys I think you have a match going on, you can not leave the arena.

Jeremy Tucker: Duke tosses Trent right into the driver side door. Duke opens the car door as he puts Trent head right on the driver side and slams it right upside his head. Duke pulls Trent up as he picks him up and chokeslams him right on the hood of the taxi. Duke gets up on the hood of the car with Trent as he picks him up and connects a release German suplex right off the car and back into the hard concerte.

Andrew Fulton: Is that Rajiv’s ride? Duke jumps off the car as he mounts rights and lefts to the head of Trent. Duke turns around and he looks right at the Taxi as he jumps right in, he spots a set of keys have been left in there.

Jeremy Tucker: You do not think he will do so.

Andrew Fulton: He starts up the taxi as he is about to hit Trent, TJ dives out of the way at the very last minute. Trent gets to his feet as Duke spins the taxi around as spots Trent again. He races toward him but Trent times it perfectly as he jumps up on the hood of the car. He reaches in and he tries to swing away at Duke.

Jeremy Tucker: I thought was a dumpster match not a Indy car 500 race.

Andrew Fulton: Trent reaches in a thumb into Duke's left eye. But Duke spots the walkie as he rips it out and with one hand on the wheel beats Trent in the face until he goes flying off the top of the car.

Jeremy Tucker: Duke stops the taxi as he sees Trent get to his feet as he races toward him, but Trent dives to his left as Duke goes crashing right into a production truck.

Andrew Fulton: Dear God ... The man might be dead we have just witnessed a fatality here.

Jeremy Tucker: Somehow Duke is able to open the door but he is busted open as Trent jump kicks him as he is getting out of the car. Trent races around to the back as he opens up the trunk and he finds a spare tire as he brings it out the back and he drops it right across Dukes chest. Trent pulls a bloody Duke to his feet as he connects with a snap suplex right up against the taxi.

Andrew Fulton: He walks over to Duke as he pulls him to his feet as he spots the production truck. He pulls Duke up the three steps as he swings back the door and the two are in the production truck. The crew gets out of the way, as Trent finds himself a laptop computer as he picks it up and slams it across Dukes skull. Trent then spots a table inside the booth as he picks up Duke and drives him right through the table with a massive powerbomb.

Jeremy Tucker: This is brutal even for a dumpster match. We have not even gotten to in the ring.

Andrew Fulton: Trent pulls Duke by his hair and spots something on the floor. He picks it up as Trent does not notice that he has something in his hand.

Jeremy Tucker: Wait that is a tazer!

Andrew Fulton: Duke puts it right into Trents ribs as a few thousand bolts of electricity is running right through him. Duke steps back as he gets a running start as he spears right through the television screens as the sparks flying and we go dark.

Jeremy Tucker: What in the hell. I have never called a match in the dark.

Andrew Fulton: There is a first time for everything, even you popping your cherry Jerry. Wait the lights are back on, as we see Duke pulling Trent up and tossing him right out of the production truck. Duke looks up to the top of the production truck as he spots a ladder, as he starts to climb it.

Jeremy Tucker: What in the hell does he have in mind.

Andrew Fulton: He is up there and he looks down at Trent Jones laying motionless on the ground. He gets to the edge of the truck.

Jeremy Tucker: Duke, do not think about it!

Andrew Fulton: He goes flying off and connects with End of Days. Trent is spitting up blood as maybe Duke might have broken a rib there.

Crowd.. HOLY SHIT.....HOLY SHIT....

Jeremy Tucker: Duke pulls Trents lifeless body up as he drags him back into the arena. He throws in a few European uppercuts, men and women are scrambling around as Duke picks up Trent and connects with a belly to belly on the hard arena floor. He spots a pair of pliers from the tool box earlier as be begins to dig it into the skull of Trent and he is busted open.

Andrew Fulton: Duke pulls Trent to his feet through a curtain as the two are along the ramp way. Duke picks up Trent and hits a full Nelson slam right onto a trunk along the ramp. Duke pulls him to his feet as he gets to another table right along the ramp ad he slams Trents head into it. He then gets up on the table, as he pulls him up and it appears he might hit a powerbomb, but in the process, Trent low blows him.

Jeremy Tucker: Trent jumps into the air and connects with a jumping ddt right through the table. Both men are laying on the floor for several minutes as other refs and medical staff are checking on them, but Trent begins to get to his feet as he pulls up Duke and suplexes him right onto the ramp. Trent climbs up there as he sees the dumpster.

Andrew Fulton: Maybe this will finally come to an end. Trent grabs Duke by his head as he slams his head right into the site of the dumpster. Trent opens up the lid as he grabs Duke, but grabs Trent’s neck as he spins around and he bounces off the dumpster and connects with a spinning ddt.

Jeremy Tucker: Duke waits for Trent to get to his feet as he does so, he goes flying right into him as the two go flying off the stage with a huge spear from Duke right off the stage as they see more sparks start to shoot out.

Andrew Fulton: Dear God, how much more can either man take.

Jeremy Tucker: Both men are down as the refs and medical staff are racing to their aid, but Duke somehow gets back to his feet as Trent gets to his feet Duke goes flying in and connects with a superman punch that knocks Trent right into the fans. Duke sees a fan has a belt he takes it from around his waist as he begins to whip Trent with it. He then grabs Trent and tosses him back over the guard rail. He takes the belt and begins to choke Trent with it.

Andrew Fulton: Trents eyeballs are popping out of his head. Duke finally let's go of it, as he pulls Trent up by his head as he hip tosses back onto the stage. Duke climbs up as he pulls Trent to his feet as he picks him up and connects with an exploder suplex right up against the dumpster. Duke reaches down as he tries to pick up Trent and puts him in the dumpster but Trent connects with a jawbreaker. Trent reaches into the dumpster and pulls out a rocking chair. He brings off a piece of wood as he begins to beat Duke over the head with it.

Jeremy Tucker: Trent begins to take the leg from the chair and dig it into Dukes skull. Trent gets to his feet as he tosses the rocking chair right into Duke face. He goes back into the dumpster as he reaches in their once again and grabs ...

Andrew Fulton: A dirty diaper ... You got to be kidding me.

Jeremy Tucker: He gets ready to walk over to Duke with it, but he kicks out the knee of Trent as he gets to his feet and connects with a clothesline from hell. Duke sees the dirty diaper and just tosses it right on him. He gets the right idea himself ad he reaches into the dumpster and pulls out a broken picture frame. He wants for Trent to get to his feet as he does, he connects upside Trents head with the frame. Duke then pulls Trent to his feet as he is trying his best to toss him into the dumpster, but Trent elbows him right in his left eye. He spots the broken arm of the rocking chair as he connects with a low blow on Duke.


Andrew Fulton: He picks up Duke and piledrivers him right on the ramp way. He pulls Duke to his feet as he tries to toss Duke in, he counters it as he connects with an over the head suplex as he goes flying right into the dumpster, as he tries to close it. Trent quickly reaches up and grabs Duke by his throat as they are both on the stage area but Duke pulls out the iron claw as blood is pouring from the head of Trent.

Jeremy Tucker: Could be an interesting play here, put him to sleep and then toss him into the dumpster.

Andrew Fulton: Trent appears to be getting weak, but Trent comes to life as he reaches down in the dumpster and tosses a pizza box right in Dukes face. Trent races towards Duke as he hits a spear driving him right into the SWAT tron. Trent pulls Duke to his feet as he picks him up and connects with a spinning powerbomb.

Jeremy Tucker: Trent pulls Duke to his feet as he is about to toss him into the dumpster but Duke fights it off with rights and lefts as the two somehow are digging down deep and throwing one Haymarket after the other. Until they both are getting close to the edge of the stage.


Andrew Fulton Being that close someone is about to go in.

Jeremy Tucker: As they continue to exchange rights and lefts after the other. Duke steps back and connects with a big boot. Trent shakes it off and he connects with a big boot also, both are on that edge. Rights and lefts as both continue to throw more and more haymakers.

Andrew Fulton: Duke connects with a boot to the side of Trents skull. He steps back as he races right toward him and he spears Trent but both go flying right into the dumpster.

Jeremy Tucker: Our cameras zoom inside the dumpster as Trent is stirring around a little bit but Duke appears to be out cold.

Andrew Fulton: Did you see what was right next to him a sink. Duke might have hit his head on that sink the reason he might is out cold.

Jeremy Tucker: Trent notices this as he climbs out of the dumpster and slams it shut.

The ref calls for the bell.

Frank Salazar: The winner of the match Trent Jones..

Jeremy Tucker: What a brutal match.

Andrew Fulton: Someone needs to open up that dumpster and get Duke some medically attention because he is out cold.

Jeremy Tucker: Both men certainly need it.. What a match, great win to Mr Bones, Trent Jones and more still to come.

[SWAT Team]

[Peel their caps back by Ice T hits as we switch back to the ring, there is a couch and a coffee table and the set of Suites Suite is in the ring. We see the Bandit Mobil heading to the ring, The Suit, Mad Dog Paul Soutter standing in the back of it with The Compton Colossal Bruno beside him, arms folded, muscles bulging and dark sunglasses on. The fans booing, some cheering and showing the KGB colors.].

[On the SWAT tron we see doctored footage of Tom Cruise jumping up and down on the couch imposed in the ring. Then more doctored footage showing Rick James/ Dave Shappelle on his back stamping his feet on the couch. FUCK_ YO_ COUCH. Now a shot of Heidi giving Suit a lap dance on the couch on the SWAT tron.]

Soutter : Welcome to SUITS SUITE!!!

Tonight is a huge show for SWAT, and us, the K_G_B ... we have a huge match coming up against Team SWAT, my guest here tonight, he also has a huge match, but i got to tell you guys something, just saying the words we are facing Team SWAT, mouthing them words, it makes my skin crawl.

We are the real TEAM SWAT! The KGB! These misfits band together and all think they are fighting for the GOOD of SWAT! Everything the Bandits do is in SWATs interests. We are the true Team SWAT! And come the War Games, each and everyone one of you turkeys is going to know it!

So, lets get on with the show, tonight, my guest, possibly, for the very last time, is our esteemed owner, and my good friend ... Mr Joe Pesci!

[Wiseguy byJ oe Pesci hits and Joe saunters down to the ring, he is dressed to the nines in an impeccable suit, he looks like the king, he enters the ring and sits down next to Suit, Shaking hands.]

Soutter : Welcome Joe, you know, i am going to miss that song almost as much as you my friend.

Pesci : Ok. Ok, ok, ok, ok, ok, ok, ok. Hold it right there. I am not going anywhere. You know that more than anyone.

Soutter : Are you sure? Radu, he is as bad and tough as they come.

Pesci : He is, well, was, but after Helloween, you crucified him, the guy is doneski. I have a plan for him, i always have plan, you know this Suit.

Soutter : You do. But .....

Pesci : But nothing. I am going to whoop him, whoop him Good!

Soutter : People are saying maybe not Joe.

Pesci : People? What people?

Soutter : You know, the people.

Pesci : Fuck them people! We never cared what they say, never! Why start now?

Soutter : I am not starting, i am just ... saying ... they think Radu can’t be beat, especially by you.

Pesci : Especially ME?! I am undefeated! You know that more than anyone else too ... remember who i defeated to win ownership of this company?

Thats right, YOU! I beat YOU Mad Dog of Melbourne! Radu, he is tough, but not as tough as you, if i can beat you, i can beat him.

Soutter : That is all true. After that we resolved our issues and we rebuilt this fed and this business back to the juggernaut all these vultures are jumping on, but i am concerned Joe, i have been in the ring with him, and with you. I know you beat me, i don’t think you could again, or him either.

Pesci : Well, FUCK YOU! I think i could, and i know i CAN!

Soutter : (getting in his face)You are digging yourself a big hole pal. The Bandits are your only saviour in this situation, but you have dropped the ball with us. You take out Satans Disciples like some favour, and open the door wide open for Valentine and Spitz to slide in against us!

Pesci : Fuck them, you can deal with them, and after you do, and i deal with Radu, we will deal with them some more!

Soutter : I don’t think so. I have my own plans for the War Games. Your actions the last couple months have done us no favours, and i am doing you none. You best make your own plans too.

Pesci : I don't need your help. You couldn't get the job done at the Helloween Cup, but I will. I'll beat Radu tonight! Watch how it's done

[Soutter bristles, and stands up towering over Joe, Joe stand up also, and a full foot shorter, he stands toe to toe, holding his ground like a Mac. ]

Soutter : Well, i guess we will see. Hope your pans are as solid as mine. Nice knowing you.

Pesci : Nice knowing YOU!

Andrew Fulton : What the hell just happened?

Jeremy Tucker : The KGB is imploding.

Andrew Fulton : No chance. This is a ruse. They really have each others backs.

Jeremy Tucker : If it were a ruse, you wouldn’t say it were, you wouldn’t bring it up.

Andrew Fulton : You think you are so smart don’t you. Don’t you know, they don’t tell me everything.

Jeremy Tucker : We all know that. (laughs)

Andrew Fulton : What does Suit have up his sleeve for the War Games?

Jeremy Tucker : I don’t know, but it had better be good, same as a Plan B for the Boss, he is going to need it!

[SWAT Team]

Jeremy Tucker: Next up, we have a grudge match for the ages, as DRAMA gets his wish and faces off against Beelzebozo.

Andrew Fulton: I guess we are going to find out what a Devil’s Funhouse match is.

[The lights dim and Beelzebozo’ music hits. The curtains part and the Clown Prince of Chaos staggers down the aisle, his Sack slung over his shoulder, facepaint sloppily applied, hair dyed bright red, a dishevelled, ill-fitting suit on his body. He climbs up the stairs and steps through the ring, microphone in hand.]

Beelzebozo: DRAAAAAMMMMAAAAAAAA ….. come out and plaaaaaayyyyyy!

[DRAMA’s music plays over the PA, and he emerges from the curtain. He is wearing a new mask, but it seems to be formed from the shattered remains of his previous mask, badly glued back together, with half of his face exposed. DRAMA walks down the ring with purpose, storming through the rope and making his way to Beelzebozo, who holds up a hand to stop him.]

Beelzebozo: Woah woah woah, settle down there, tiger! I just want to say something real quick before we get this show started. Buster Friendly tried to wrestle you, but you couldn’t be satisfied with a straight match. No, you needed more. You needed the human side of me to die and for the demon to emerge. So if you are going to awaken the Beast, we aren’t going to just have a normal match. Because by the time this one is over, neither of us are going to be able to go on as we were. So if we are going out, we might as well go out with a bang! So here we go….DRAMA vs Beelzebozo…..DEVIL’S FUNHOUSE MATCH!!!

Jeremy Tucker: Look at this ominous structure!

Andrew Fulton: There are so many ways that you can end a career in this thing, I can’t even begin to name them all.

***DING DING DING***

[The bell rings and the two men meet in the middle, immediately exchanging a flurry of right hands, neither man giving an inch as they just wail each other repeatedly.]

Jeremy Tucker: Here we go!

Andrew Fulton: These two are both giving no quarter!

[The two men continue to batter each other, with Beelzebozo slowly starting to gain an edge. DRAMA no longer answers the punches and starts to back up to the corner. Beelze shoves him back and slaps him across the face, then batters his chest with a stiff forearm. DRAMA hunches over in pain and Beelze grabs a hold of him and tosses him outside the ring to the floor.]

Jeremy Tucker: This one certainly didn’t stay in the ring long.

Andrew Fulton: I knew the ring couldn’t contain them, but can even this ridiculous, barb wire lined cage keep them in?

[Beelzebozo steps through the ropes onto the apron and looks at the fallen body of DRAMA laying on the outside. Beelze takes a few steps then launches himself off the apron with an elbow drop, but DRAMA moves out of the way and Beelzebozo crashes and burns on the high risk move.]

Jeremy Tucker: Beelze went for a big move early and it blew up in his face!

Andrew Fulton: He may have really hurt himself on that miss.

[Beelze lays on the ground, writhing in pain, allowing DRAMA time to recover. DRAMA grabs a fistful of Beelze’s hair and lifts him to his face, then hits three quick left jabs to the face, followed by a spinning clothesline that sends Beelze back down to the mat.]

Jeremy Tucker: Total slugfest so far.

Andrew Fulton: I expected nothing less. If you want to see catch as catch can wrestling, this is not the match for you. This will not be a technical struggle, this will be a literal war.

[DRAMA grabs a hold of beelze’s hair and tights and hurls him into the steel steps, a sickening thud reverberating through the arena from the impact. DRAMA doesn’t give Beelzebozo any time to recover, quickly raising him up again and whipping him face fist into the steel cage. The Clown Prince of Chaos has his head slammed against the bars and recoils backwards, right into the waiting arms of DRAMA, who grabs his face and starts grating it back and forth against the bars, smearing Beelzebozo’s face paint and scraping up his face.]

Jeremy Tucker: We knew DRAMA was not the nicest guy in the world, but now he is downright vicious!

Andrew Fulton: Beelzebozo having his face disfigured!

[DRAMA lets go and Beelze falls to the ground, clutching his face. He takes a hold of the King of the Vagabonds and Irish whips him into one of the wooden crates in the corner of the cage. Beelze crashes against it and just leans there, trying to catch his breath. DRAMA bends down and starts to look under the ring.]

Jeremy Tucker: DRAMA looking for some plunder under that ring.

Andrew Fulton: As if this match wasn’t dangerous enough.

[DRAMA pulls a sledgehammer out from under the ring, brandishing it with a crazed look in his eye. He charges across the floor, swinging the sledgehammer over his head and bringing it crashing down towards Beelzebozo. Beelze slumps out of the way at the last second and the sledgehammer impacts the wooden crate, busting it open.]

Jeremy Tucker: That crate just exploded!

Andrew Fulton: We were inches away from that being Beelzebozo’s head that exploded!

[DRAMA looks down into the crate, and sees what was inside. An assortment of weapons spills out of the broken crate and litter the floor: a crowbar, a shovel, a cowbell on a long thick rope, and a baseball bat. DRAMA picks up the bat and approaches a slowly rising Beelze, but the sadistic clown rears back and kicks DRAMA right between the legs. DRAMA buckles and drops to his knees, giving Beelze enough time to get to recover. Beelzebozo runs across the floor and hits a knee lift to the face, snapping DRAMA’s head back and sending him to the ground.]

Jeremy Tucker: Desperation kick to the balls always works in those situations.

Andrew Fulton:Tthat knee to the face did almost as much damage if you ask me.

[Beelzebozo goes over to the pile of weapons and picks up the crowbar. Instead of approaching DRAMA, he instead goes to the broken crate, and uses the crowbar to peel off one of the shattered pieces of wood. He then stalks his prey, the improvised stake in his hand. DRAMA is laying on the ground, and Beelze kneels over him, jabbing the wooden spike into the exposed half of DRAMA’s face.]

Jeremy Tucker: He’s stabbing him! Beelzebozo is just blatantly stabbing another man in the face!

Andrew Fulton: Oh my God, I can hear DRAMA shrieking in agony from here!

[Beelzebozo stands over the fallen body of DRAMA, who has now been busted wide open by the makeshift spike. Beelzebozo holds the stake up in the air and the crowd roars, the sadistic bastards that they are. Beelzebozo then takes the spike and brings it down swiftly, stabbing himself in the forehead with it!]

Jeremy Tucker: What the Hell is this all about?

Andrew Fulton: He is driving that spike into his own head, and he has busted himself open!

[Beelze laughs and then bends down, letting his blood drip into DRAMA’s open wounds.

Jeremy Tucker: OMG I think I am going to vomit! He is pouring his own blood into DRAMA’s sliced open face!

Andrew Fulton: Who the Hell knows where this sick son of a bitch has been? DRAMA is probably more disease infested now than that little monkey in Outbreak!

[Beelzebozo grabs the crowbar and goes over to the next crate in the corner of the cage, prying it open. He gets the cover loose and then yanks it up and off. He goes to look inside, but a huge collection of balloons floats out and up. Beelze watches them float towards the arena ceiling, seemingly entranced momentarily. He turns back around, and walks into a cowbell to the head from DRAMA!]

Jeremy Tucker: MORE COWBELL!

Andrew Fulton: That stopped being funny about 19 years ago.

[DRAMA, still holding on to the cowbell, throws Beelzebozo back into the ring.]

Jeremy Tucker: Hey, they are getting back in the actual ring.

Andrew Fulton: Maybe we will see a pin attempt here?

[DRAMA takes the rope and wraps it around Beelzebozo’s throat. He then runs towards the ropes, Beelze following behind, before DRAMA hurls him over the top rope, holding onto the rope, as Beelzebozo goes sailing over the top, and then starts dangling with the rope around his neck!]

Jeremy Tucker: A pinfall! This is a damn homicide!

Andrew Fulton: Why is the referee not calling this?

Jeremy Tucker: There are no rules! He is literally just there to count the pinfall or acknowledge a submission.

Andrew Fulton: He is going to be an accessory to murder!

[Beelzebozo’s feet are thrashing wildly as he tries to free himself from the rope around his neck, but he can’t get loose. DRAMA is holding on tight to the rope, refusing to let go as Beelze is being strangled. After some very uncomfortable moments, Beelze stops kicking and goes limp. DRAMA releases the rope and Beelze just falls to the ground, unmoving.]

Jeremy Tucker: He’s dead! Beelzebozo is dead!

Andrew Fulton: That may be true, but this match is continuing.

[DRAMA goes to the outside, and slowly makes his way cautiously to the third crate. Using the cowbell in his hands, he starts pummeling the crate, until it breaks apart. He takes a hold of the top and tosses it to the side. He then peers inside, looking for a weapon to use.]

Jeremy Tucker: I wonder what’s in there?

Andrew Fulton: I won’t even dare to guess.

[DRAMA leans over, and is caught completely by surprise when a pair of antlers attached to a moose head comes flying out and headbutts him! DRAMA falls backwards, and a man in a tailored suit and a moose mask leaps out of the box!]

Jeremy Tucker: Oh God. Not him! Anyone but him!

Andrew Fulton: It’s SWAT Backyard legend, ANONYMOOSE!

[Anonymoose leaps out of the box, landing next to DRAMA. DRAMA charges at the Moose Headed Miracle, but Anonymoose ducks and then takes him over with a back body drop, sending him crashing into the side of the steel cage. DRAMA hits the cage and slides down to the floor. He starts to try to struggle to his feet, but Anonymoose steps forward and hits a thrust kick to the side of the head, knocking DRAMA down and out.]

Jeremy Tucker: Sweet(ened with maple syrup) Chin Music and DRAMA is out!

Andrew Fulton: For a match where one of the participants may have been murdered on live TV, we sure stopped taking this seriously.

Jeremy Tucker: Sometimes humor is the only thing shining a light in an otherwise dark world.

Andrew Fulton: OK Confucious, can you stop talking like a fortune cookie and maybe see if Beelebozo is still alive?

[Anonymoose climbs up onto the apron and looks at DRAMA. He then removes the mask and throws it down onto DRAMA’s limp body.]

Jeremy Tucker: It isn’t still the same idiot under that mask, is it?

Andrew Fulton: IT IS! IT IS! IT’S SPIKE NELSON!!!

***MASSIVE POP FOR THE BEST WRESTLER EVER (Except for his Grandpa, Vile “Vince” Viper)***

[Spike jumps up onto the turnbuckles with catlike agility, perching on top, stalking DRAMA. DRAMA starts to stir, shaking the cobwebs from his blood soaked head. He turns towards Spike, and Spike leaps off of the turnbuckle with a hurricanrana, but DRAMA blocks it, and Spike just hangs upside down with his legs up in the air. Spike tries to raise himself back up, but before he can, DRAMA drops to his knees, driving Spike head first to the ground!]

Jeremy Tucker: GONSO BOMB! GONSO BOMB! SPIKE HAS JUST BEEN KILLED!

Andrew Fulton: DRAMA has just killed his second person in the last five minutes!

[Spike lays on the ground, not moving at all. DRAMA grabs a hold of him and lifts him up, powerbombing him onto the apron. Spike lays prone on the apron, and DRAMA climbs up after him. Unbeknownst to DRAMA, (but Knownst to us) is the fact that Beelzebozo was in fact still alive, and had managed to get the top off of the 4th crate. He pulls out a large bottle of whiskey and starts chugging.]

***ALCOHOL POP!***

Jeremy Tucker: Beelzebozoz is alive!

Andrew Fulton: And DRAMA has no idea!

[DRAMA bends down and takes Spike’s unmoving body, dead lifting him into position, then driving him down to the apron again with a package piledriver!]

Jeremy Tucker: KILL YOUR DARLINGS ON THE APRON!

Andrew Fulton: SPIKE JUST GOT CRIPPLED!

[DRAMA gets up and holds his arms out to the sides, screaming a primal scream at the top of his lungs, his blood soaked head glistening under the arena lights. It is quite the sight to behold. Beelzebozo picks up his Sack and dumps it out on the mat, looking for weapons. He only succeeds in covering the ring with thumb tacks.]

Jeremy Tucker: Thumbtacks everywhere! And Beelze looks surprised!

Andrew Fulton: Maybe he grabbed the wrong sack of weapons? The guy is drunk all the time.

[ Beelzebozo hits the ropes and goes charging in DRAMA’s direction. DRAMA turns towards the sound of approaching clown shoe footsteps, and Beelzebozo hits a spear through the ropes, sending both men sailing off of the apron and crashing into the cage!]

***HOLY SHIT CHANT!***

Jeremy Tucker: The crowd is saying it better than I ever could!

Andrew Fulton: HOLY SHIT!!!

[Both guys lay on the floor, their battered and blood soaked bodies not moving as the crowd cheers for them to continue. The referee is hovering over them, seeing if either one wants to call it quits.]

Jeremy Tucker: What are we supposed to do now? Neither guy is moving!

Andrew Fulton: I have no idea.

[With nothing else to do, the referee starts counting for the KO.]

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

[Signs of life.]

SIX!

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

[Both guys fight to their knees.]

NINE!

[They both stand at the last instant, both guys now completely covered in blood and drained. DRAMA hits a chop to the chest, sweat and blood flying everywhere from the impact. Beelzebozo steadies himself, and then answers with a stiff forearm to the side of the head.]

Jeremy Tucker: How are they still standing, let alone fighting?

Andrew Fulton: I don’t know. People are going to say heart, but I don’t think it’s that. No, it’s not heart….it’s hate. These two men are fuelled by hate.

[CHOP!]

[FOREARM!]

[CHOP!]

[FOREARM!]

[CHOP!]

[FOREARM!]

[CHOP!]

[FOREARM!]

[CHOP!]

[FOREARM!]

[CHOP!]

[FOREARM!]

[CHOP! FOREARM! CHOP! FOREARM! CHOP! FOREARM!]

***FIGHT FOREVER CHANT!***

AUTHOR NOTE:

*Look, I hate crowd chants, especially “Fight Forever.” We don’t really want you to fight forever. It really means like, give us two or three more big spots, then somebody pin somebody. Also, if the match was REALLY that good, the crowd would be too enthralled with the story of the match to even think to start doing some dumb chant to make themselves part of the show. It is fucking lame. Wrestling fans are the worst. They suck the joy out of something I love. I know what you’re thinking right now: “He can’t possibly mean me, right? I am in SWAT, so I am probably good people…..or am I? I don’t know, I don’t know you. But if you went to a wrestling show and chanted “Fight Forever,” you are probably a halfwitted fucktard and you suck. OK, back to the acton!

Jeremy Tucker: These two guys are tearing each other apart!

Andrew Fulton: This is the kind of war that is going to alter these men for the rest of their lives. I don’t know how anybody comes back from this.

[Beelzebozo hits a thunderous forearm, followed by a chop to the throat, then a big right hand to the head. Drama falls to the ground and Beelze takes a moment to catch his breath. DRAMA reaches down and finds the whiskey bottle, taking a swig of his own and tossing it aside.]

Jeremy Tucker: DRAMA just took a swig of whiskey from a bottle that probably has Beelzebozo backwash in it. That can’t be sanitary.

Andrew Fulton: Does it matter at this point? Beelzebozo literally poured his own blood into DRAMA’s open facial wound. The whiskey is probably the only thing keeping infection at bay at this point.

[Beelze approaches DRAMA, looking to finish him off. DRAMA leaps to his feet and spits the whiskey into Beelze face, blinding him. Beelze grabs his eyes and turns, trying to get his vision back. DRAMA grabs Beelze and shoves him head first into the cage. The Clown’s head bounces off of the unforgiving steel and he collapses to the ground.]

Jeremy Tucker: Beelze just got knocked out again, and CTE is a real thing, folks. This match needs to be stopped. These men are suffering life altering injuries.

[DRAMA looks down at the battered, unmoving body of his arch nemesis and then up at the top of the cage. He puts his hand and foot into the cage and begins to climb.]

Andrew Fulton: Where does DRAMA think he is going? You can’t win by escaping the cage. Plus, the top is covered in spools of barbed wire!

Jeremy Tucker: I don’t think he wants to win this match, I think he just wants to survive!

[DRAMA slowly makes his way up the cage, but his hands are so covered in blood that it is hard to get a grip on the cage. Meanwhile, Beelzebozo is stirring again, and crawling towards the cage.]

Andrew Fulton: DRAMA trying to escape and Beelzebozo in hot pursuit!

Jeremy Tucker: I can’t even watch! Just tell me what happens!

[Beelzebozo makes it to the cage and also starts crawling it, making slightly better progress than DRAMA. DRAMA is almost to the top, with the Clown Prince of Chaos right behind him. DRAMA makes it to the top, but pauses when he sees the barbed wire, not sure what to do. Beelzebozo reaches the top as well, slamming a forearm to the back of DRAMA, stunning him. Beelzebozo tries to shove DRAMA’s face into the barbed wire, but DRAMA fights him off with a flurry of back elbows that has Beelzebozo teetering and almost losing his grip.]

Andrew Fulton: Oh my God! Oh my God!

Jeremy Tucker: He almost fell!

[Beelzebozo answers with a headbutt that has both guys rocking back and forth. Beelzebozo hits a couple of stiff rights, then jumps up and spins so he is now sitting on the top of the corner of the cage. He reaches into his vest pocket and pulls out a row of scarves all tied together. He takes the scarves and wraps them around his arm.]

Andrew Fulton: What is he doing now? His head is gushing blood and he covers his arm?

Jeremy Tucker: Oh God, I know what he is doing. He is about to cross the line!

[Beelzebozo starts trying to dislodge one of the spools of barbed wire, and DRAMA starts swiping at him, trying to stop him. Beelze backhands DRAMA, then reaches into his vest’s other pocket and pulls out a gun.]

Andrew Fulton: HE HAS A GOD DAMN GUN!

Jeremy Tucker: This isn’t wrestling announcer hyperbole, he is literally going to kill him!

[Beelze puts the gun to DRAMA’s face and pulls the trigger. A little flag that says “BANG!” pops out. Beelze looks at it disappointedly, then just hits DRAMA over the head with the plastic toy before tossing it aside.]

Andrew Fulton: My heart is in my throat. This has to end soon.

Jeremy Tucker: One way or another, I think it is about to.

[Beelze goes back to working on the spool of barbed wire, which he manages to get off of the cage and wrapped around his scarf covered arm. He goes to take a swing at DRAMA, but DRAMA is too quick for him, leaping up, wrapping his legs around Beelzebozo’s head, and hitting a hurricanrana. DRAMA falls straight down to the floor, and Beelzebozo goes soaring through the air, landing in the ring…..right on the pile of thumb tacks.]


***CRAZIEST GOD DAMN THING I EVER SAW POP!!!!!***

Andrew Fulton: NO! I DID NOT JUST SEE THAT!

Jeremy Tucker: I HOPE YOU SAW WHAT I DID, BECAUSE OTHERWISE WE ARE BOTH INSANE!

[The referee doesn’t even know how to react to what he just saw. DRAMA just fell from the top of a cage to the concrete floor, landing on the thin mat that barely covers it. Beelzebozo flew through the air, crashed onto the ring apron, and landed in a pile of thumbtacks. Neither man is moving, and he freezes like a deer in headlights, not knowing who to go to first.]

Andrew Fulton: *STUNNED SILENCE*

Jeremy Tucker: *STUNNED SILENCE*

***STUNNED SILENCE***

[For long moments, nobody moves. Nobody breathes. Nobody knows what to think. Are either of these men even still alive?]

Andrew Fulton: …………..

Jeremy Tucker: ……………

……………

……………

……………

……………

……………

……………

……………

……………

Andrew Fulton: Are we…..Are we still live?

Jeremy Tucker: I don’t….. I can’t…..

[The referee is shaken out of his trance as he notices something so unbelievable, at first his brain doesn’t acknowledge it as reality. Outside the ring…..DRAMA is moving.]

Andrew Fulton: Is that…..

Jeremy Tucker: It is! DRAMA is actually trying to get into the ring!

[DRAMA crawls towards the steps, fighting to drag himself up the steps and through the ropes. On his hands and knees, he does a military style crawl across the thumb tacks towards his opponent. And amazingly, beyond all reason, in a move so outlandish even I don’t believe it and I am the one writing this shit show…. Beelzebozo also starts to move!]

Andrew Fulton: NO WAY! NO WAY!

Jeremy Tucker: BEELZEBOZO IS GETTING UP!

[The Clown Prince of Chaos drags himself to his feet. Barely able to stand, hunched over, thumbtacks protruding from his entire body, blood pouring from his head, barb wire impaled on his entire left arm, his clothes torn, somehow, someway, Beelzebozo is, in fact, standing. Barely, but standing.]

Andrew Fulton: He isn’t human. He is a monster from somebody’s nightmare and he cannot be killed.

Jeremy Tucker: If I wasn’t seeing this with my own eyes, I would not believe it.

[Not to be outdone, DRAMA also fights to his feet. He rips the last remnants of his mask off and tosses them aside. His face is mutilated, blood covers his entire body, he has collected his own collection of thumb tacks as he crawled across the ring. He looks like his spine is permanently bent to the side, his breathing is labored…but he is on his own two feet.]

Andrew Fulton: Fans….. I have no words.

Jeremy Tucker: We are just going to shut up for a minute.

[Slowly, with steps like a toddler learning to walk, Beelzebozo and DRAMA make their way to the middle of the ring. DRAMA raises his hands up, fists clenched, his entire body trembling. Beelzebozo answers, his own hands shaky as he tries to hold them up to fight.]

[DRAMA looks down at his hands…..and extends his right one, open handed. He is going for the handshake.]

[Beelzebozo looks down at the hand. The olive branch has been extended. All he has to do is shake the hand and it is over. Beelzebozo looks at his own hand.]

[Can he end this peacefully? Can he put it behind him?]

Beelzebozo thinks of what these two men have done to each other. He thinks about the war they have waged. His adrenaline is so high he is completely numb, but he knows he will soon be in agony as the rush of the match leaves his battered and broken body.

He had done it. He had gotten himself clean. After years of losing every battle he had with his demons, Beelzebozo, the Clown Prince of Chaos. The tortured, abused, lost soul. The scarred, scared little boy who was emotionally abused by his mother. Who just longed for his father to come back, for his death to have been some elaborate ruse…..the man who had self medicated with drink, pills, cheap sex, self abuse….the man who was on a collision course with death……that man was gone. Beelzebozo was dead, and Buster Friendly was finally steering the ship.

But Beelzebozo never really died. He only lay dormant. Waiting for his moment. And he knew it would come. Something would happen again. Something that Buster Friendly was too weak to handle. Something that he needed to escape from. And once again, Buster Friendly would retreat into the dark recesses of his subconscious, and Beelzebozo would be in charge once more.

Beelzebozo took control and he had committed acts of violence on his new foe, and had them inflicted on him in return. As the evil clown looked down at that hand, he saw it for what it really was….that hand was the Salvation of Buster Friendly. All he had to do was reach out and take it, and it would be over. If Beelzebozo took that hand, he would be admitting that there was always hope.

If Beelzebozo reached out and shook the hand, he would be acknowledging that no matter how bad things get, you can always come back. As long as you are drawing breath it is never too late to put those demons to rest forever. All he had to do was move his own hand out, wrap his fingers around DRAMA’s hand, and it would all be over.

Beelzebozo, the insurmountable, undefeatable, all consuming representation of everything wrong that had ever happened to Buster Friendly would finally, at long last, be truly dead.

Beelzebozo looked at that hand….and he laughed.

He laughed.

He laughed.

He laughed and laughed and laughed. Because yes, he had that realization. He knew that this was the moment that Buster Friendly could finally, after a life of suffering and anguish be free. It was the ultimate story of redemption.

It was Salvation.

It was hope, in its purest form.

It was beautiful.

It was the perfect ending.

He could do something as simple as shake a hand and end the pain forever.

It was the perfect ending.

Beelzebozo would be vanquished once and for all. Buster Friendly would see Beelzebozo, truly and finally dead.

He would find, if not happiness, at least a sense of peace.

It was the perfect ending.

The crowd would lose their minds.

It

was

the

perfect

ending.

Beelzebozo laughed, because while all that may very well be true.

Something else was also true.

In life…..you don’t always get what you want.

Happy endings are not a guarantee.

They say “life’s a joke.”

And Beelzebozo?

He’s the fucking punchline.

[Beezebozo looked down at his hand……then raised it and flipped DRAMA off.]

[DRAMA, his peace offering rebuffed, took a swing at Beelzebozo. Everything he had left in one focused punch. One final knock out blow. DRAMA was the last chance to slay the demon.]

[And he missed.]

[Beelzebozo ducked the punch. The momentum spun DRAMA around and Beelzebozo grabbed a hold of him, wrapping his barb wire covered arm into DRAMA’s throat, his other hand locking the sleeper hold in as the barbed wire sunk into DRAMA’s throat and Beelzebozo fell backwards, too weak to stand. Both men were too weak to stand, but Beelzebozo did not let go. He wrapped his legs around DRAMA’s body, squeezing for all he was worth with his lethal, barb wire encased arm. DRAMA shrieked in agony.]

Andrew Fulton: WHISKEY LULLABY!

Jeremy Tucker: Beelzebozo just locked on a Whiskey Lullaby with his arm covered in barbed wire!

Andrew Fulton: DRAMA is screaming like some kind of inhuman animal!

Jeremy Tucker: STOP THIS!

TAP!

TAP!

TAP!

*DING DING DING*

[The referee tries to dislodge Beelzebozo from his opponent, but the barb wire has them stuck together. The referee, acting on pure adrenaline, manages to separate them. Beelzebozo and DRAMA both lay on the mat. DRAMA is not moving.]

[Beelzebozo can’t stop laughing.]

Frank Salazar : The winner of this match ….. BEELZEBOZO!!!

Andrew Fulton: In the record books, Beelzebozo will go down as the winner, but how can you call anybody a winner in that one.

Jeremy Tucker: I …..I don’t even know what to say. I feel like we all lost here tonight.

[DRAMA thought he wanted this. He got what he asked for. There is a saying about that.]

Beelzebozo laughs

Beezebozo laughs

Beelzebozo laughs.