WRESTLE-A-THON '23
Aug 8, 2023 0:46:32 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 5 more like this
Post by mosler on Aug 8, 2023 0:46:32 GMT -5
The XHF Presents
WRESTLE-A-THON
Atlanta, Georgia
August 6th, 2023
A sound stage in Trilith Studios has been set-up to look like a Jerry Lewis telethon. White backdrops abound, with a simple riser set-up for performances, while the far wall has a layered bleacher style set-up for maximum face value of the forty XHF superstars that are manning phones. A large sign hanging from the ceiling reads “WRESTLE-A-THON,” while below it is a digital counter with a dollar figure keeping the current tally of pledge support. Finally another banner stretches under the counter with the message: “SAVE GUNS ARENA.”
Blondie’s “Call Me” plays as the studio cameras pan past the various stars that are manning the phones.
The images soon turn from the XHF Superstars to the GUNS Arena – a few blocks from Trilith Studios, which is threatening to fall into the massive sinkhole that used to be its front parking lot but is now known as the Sarlacc Pit. Some of the images may actually be from Return of the Jedi – but the condemned signs, and caution tape that closes off every entrance to GUNS Arena are very much from a galaxy very near.
Returning to the studio, the camera pans past “SAVE GUNS ARENA” before arriving at the stage where Sylvia Starr is wearing a blue gown.
Sylvia Starr: Welcome to the XHF Network’s first, Wrestle-A-Thon. A variety show in which we ask you viewers to help save our home! A little background… those that have been following GUNS 4th Season, know that while Zoran Sainovic seemed to be a pleasantly harmless – Venom and Magnus decided to take advantage of the situation. This included putting the Final Boss through a PokemonGO Death Match which involved quite a bit of C4... only Zoran was faking both the explosions at the time, and his sunny disposition – subsequently setting the explosives all off on the eve of his latest Death Trap war... creating a “Sarlacc Pit” where the GUNS parking lot used to be. The sinkhole continues to grow in size, forcing us to abandon Atlanta for our last few shows, and calling into doubt when we’ll be able to start our fifth season.
The calls continue to pour in.
Sylvia Starr: That said, the outpouring of support from the fans, and the other affiliates have been nothing short of miraculous. While we’re the stars are here to answer calls, take donations, and chat with us... there is a still a wrestling component tonight. For that we’ll send you to the other side of the sinkhole where our very own Magnus is currently setting up the first match at the McCamish Pavilion!
MEANWHILE... AT THE THRILLERDOME!
Backstage at the McCamish Pavilion, Magnus is walking down the hallway with Off Brand Robo Cop.
OBRC: EVERYTHING IS IN ORDER.
Magnus: Then we’re ready to start things off with a bang! El Rey putting his GUNS Junior title on the line against Nelly! Given the matches the two had at XHF Birthday Bash, and Night of Champions, this third encounter is bound to bring the money rolling in!
OBRC: NEGATIVE.
Magnus: And it’s between two GUNS stars, none of this outside “help.” We’ll save our own arena- what do you mean “negative?”
OBRC: NELLY ANGEL IS NOW UNDER CONTRACT WITH SCCW.
Magnus: That bastard sell-out. Oh well, it’ll be even sweeter when Rey beats him.
OBRC: HE WILL NOT BE ATTENDING.
Magnus: But we have other Sin City Championship Wrestling stars in attendance! I saw Jason Justice earlier-
OBRC: NELLY ANGEL KNOWS YOU.
Magnus: Damn it! Why do bad things only happen to me? At least it’s early enough that we can change the card...
Rather than Tom Phillips – who might be dead – the announce team at ringside is not the GUNS irregulars, but the global event crew.
Hawke: Good evening fans, I’m Joey Hawke joined by Randy Angel – and welcome to WrestleAthon! We’re live from the McCamish Pavilion, where 8328 fans have come out to join us for an evening of action.
Randy: That ought to put a dent in the fees required to save GUNS Arena.
Hawke: One can only hope!
Randy: Well they are kicking things off on a high note.
Hawke: That is right Randy... on XHF Birthday Bash, El Rey lost the finals for the GUNS Junior Heavyweight championship to Nelly Angel. The two then had a rematch at Night of Champions, where Rey came out on top – but Nelly took him to the limit, and the match no doubt played a result in Rey losing the XHF Junior title later that night. Their series has been so well received, that it only made sense to have a tiebreaker!
Randy: Enjoy it while you still can-
Hawke: That is right fans, because GUNS Arena is currently under threat. If you appreciate the action you’re seeing, please call the number listed at the bottom of the screen to pledge your support.
Randy: No, I meant because both guys ditched GUNS.
Hawke: Let’s throw it to Bonnie for introductions...
Bonnie Jenkins: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, has a thirty minute time limit and is for the GUNS Junior Heavyweight Championship!
The Atlanta fan base cheer anything involving their home federation.
“HOOOOOOOOOOOOWL”
“All rise fore the king of all wolves now arrives.”
Bonnie Jenkins: Introducing first, the champion! Apparently Atlanta’s Favourite Son – currently representing Hardkore World – your GUNS Junior Heavyweight Champion, ELLLLLLLLLLL REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!
The voice of James Earl Mother Fucking Jones echoes over the speakers. How did he get James Earl Jones to say that? It wasn’t a Cameo I’ll tell you that and it cost a pretty penny. Shortly after James Earl Jones speaks Big Sean’s “Wolves” begins to play. El Rey strolls onto the stage wearing the mask he stole off of the head of El Combatiente. He looks around soaking up their surroundings before ripping the mask off of his head and revealing his cocky smirk he inherited from his father. He strolls down the ramp, apparently ignorant to the reaction the news of his HKW jump has had on his hometown fans. It isn’t pretty. At ringside he leaps up onto the apron and then over the ropes and spins around in the ring with his arms outstretched. He spins around a couple times and then moves to the corner waiting for the match to begin.
Hawke: It will be really exciting to see what El Rey does in Hardkore World...
Randy: But these obsessive GUNS fans not taking the news too well.
The guitar riffs starting out "La Di Da" by Jet ring out.
Bonnie Jenkins: And his opponent, the challenger, representing Sin City Championship Wrestling – NELLLLLLLY ANGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL!
Wait – Nelly jumped ships too? SIGN IN CROWD: NELLY IS A HEEL. The crowd don’t care for that at all. This is just like Goldberg versus Lesnar at Wrestlemania XX – only Stone Cold isn’t around to give the audience someone to cheer for.
Hawke: We actually have a lot of great SCCW action lined up for later in the broadcast, the negative reaction you’re hearing is not for Nelly joining Sin City-
Randy: Where he is going to sweep up.
Hawke: But the fact that he left GUNS. The audience chanting some profanity right now, I apologize if that is being picked up at home.
Randy: Again, if you like what you’re seeing pledge to the number at the bottom of the screen.
Hawke: Damn it, Randy.
“La Di Da” starts to repeat, only this time Magnus steps out of the back to a hero’s welcome. Racing down the aisle, Magnus is quick to hand Bonnie a new cue card. She looks it over, then gives him a dirty look.
Bonnie Jenkins: ...I’m not reading that.
Magnus: Please?
El Rey is starting to look concerned.
Magnus (grabbing a microphone): GUNS NATION! IT TURNS OUT THAT AFTER YEARS OF BEING IGNORED, BEING A WALLFLOWER, GENERALLY DISAPPEARING INTO THE BACKGROUND, NELLY ANGEL HAS DEVELOPED THE POWERS OF INVISIBILITY!
Randy: That lucky bastard has been holding out on me!
Hawke: Randy, please, it’s clearly a con-
Magnus: He’s like the Predator now! How will El Rey defend against this unseen foe?
Shaking his head in disgust, El Rey starts to leave the ring.
Magnus: Are you planning to forfeit the title to Nelly, rather than take on his invisible skills?
Son. Of. A. Bitch. El Rey puts a headlock on thin air.
GUNS JUNIOR HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP
EL REY (c) vs. “BARELY THERE” NELLY ANGEL
DING! DING! DING!
El Rey (releasing the headlock): Did you hear him say “I quit?”
Mitch Mitchell: No, I can’t say that I did.
God. Damn. It. El Rey gives the referee a dirty look. Apparently this match is going to go the distance. El Rey reapplies the headlock.
Mitch Mitchell: I’m pretty sure he’s moved since you released it.
...This is going to be a long night. Jumping to another part of the ring, El Rey reapplies the headlock to thin air. Mitch Mitchell nods approvingly, so Rey starts to act like he’s really struggling to keep it on.
Mitch Mitchell: 1! 2! 3! 4!
El Rey: What?
Mitch Mitchell: He’s in the ropes! 5!
El Rey: COME ON!
Rey releases the headlock. But does take a cheap shot swing at his non-existent opponent, apparently frustrated enough to catch the imaginary foe in the nose. Mitch Mitchell warns him about the closed fist.
El Rey: And people wonder why I’m at Hardkore Worl-
Uh oh, read the room, El Rey! That comment does it – as the audience is FIRMLY behind fake Nelly now. Shaking his head in disgust, Rey decides to see how long he can keep up a series of pin reversals. Inside cradle! 1 – 2 – reversal! 1 – 2 – reversal! 1 – 2 – awkwardly turned into a sharpshooter! Do you quit? NEVER! Rey muscles through, getting his leg out! Apparently Nelly goes for a full boston, but Rey turns it into a rana – holds on for the pin – 1 – 2 – Phantom Nelly turns it over 1 – 2! Schoolboy – 1 – 2 – 3? Nope, apparently Nelly grabs the legs and jumps through for a maybe senton, holding the legs for the pin – 1 – 2!
Hawke: So many near falls.
Randy: It’s like watching Mav versus Mav all over again...
Hawke: Except that Rey is very athletic, and committed to win the referee over.
Randy: I’m surprised he’s able to find Nelly so often-
After trading small packages with himself a good 8 times for some near falls, Rey decides he’s given the fans their money and hits a sliced bread!
Hawke: SLICED BREAD! RIGHT ON HIS BACK – THAT LOOKED PAINFUL, AND THERE IS THE HOOK OF THE LEG-
ONE!
Randy: Whoa – big kickout!
El Rey has words with Mitch Mitchell about making his offence look weak, but Mitchell assures him that Nelly kicked out at one.
Hawke: X-ED OUT!!!
ONE! And... where’s the two count?
Mitchell points to the ropes, which apparently Nelly got his foot into.
Hawke: The colourful language that Randy is currently using on Mitch Mitchell could actually lead to some serious fines.
Randy: Whoa, enough to save GUNS Arena?
Hawke: Magnus can only hope.
El Rey is so busy arguing with Mitchell, that he doesn’t notice the invisible man get back up – and hit him with a shining wizard! Rey is quickly back up to his feet, for another shining wizard. Battered into the corner, El Rey sets himself up for what is PROBABLY a tornado DDT!
Hawke: Rey down in the corner – and from the way his body just jerked, I can only assume that Nelly just hit ON ANGEL WINGS!!!!!!!
ONE!
TWO!
Randy: Rey with a foot in the ropes. Nelly so close to winning back the title.
Hawke: That would be one for the record books.
Randy: Rey staggering up to his feet, could it be time for a BREAKING NEWS!
Rey suddenly ducks, and hits a Society Killer! He hooks an invisible leg. Mitch Mitchell doesn’t think the pin is that committed. Sneering, Rey grabs a fistful of imaginary tights, then puts his feet on the ropes for extra leverage. Nodding approvingly, Mitchell finally counts the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
T-
Mitch Mitchell: Shoulder up.
El Rey: MOTHERF-
Magnus: Don’t worry, Rey, I’ve got you covered...
Coming out from under the ring, Magnus produces a mannequin that has been dressed to sort of look like Nelly. Or Sloth from the Goonies. Magnus slides the mannequin into the ring.
Mitch Mitchell: Wait, I thought Nelly was invisible- who has Rey been wrestling all this time.
El Rey: ...are you kidding me?
Mitch Mitchell (wiping eyes): It’s like I’m seeing double!
El Rey hits another Society Killer on the mannequin, and stands on its chest for an arrogant cover. Mitchell is now having trouble finding where the other fake Nelly went, so eventually drops for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
Bonnie Jenkins: Yeah, I’m not calling it.
Magnus: The winner of this match... and STILL GUNS JUNIOR HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION, ATLANTA’S FAVOURITE SON- EL REEEEEEEEEEEEEY!
Having made the announcement, Magnus starts running for the exit. He has to get over to the telethon studio. El Rey poses with his belt, thankful to finally put this gruelling trilogy of matches behind him. The audience reaction is less than kind.
Randy: Nelly is not going to like this.
Hawke: I don’t think anyone did.
Randy: But he was going to be so excited when I told him he’d learned how to be invisible, only to immediately let him know that it wore off...
Hawke: Randy that’s not what-
Randy: And now he looks like Sloth from Goonies… more so.
Hawke: You really need to stop drinking. Well fans, an exciting opener for what promises to be a memorable night. Once again, if you... like... what you see, be sure to call the number at the bottom of your screen and pledge your support. It actually is for a good cause, despite what we just witnessed. We now send it back to Sylvia Starr at the heart of the telethon studio.
Back at Trilith Studios, Sylvia Starr stands next to one of the XHF stars that are answering the phones.
Mantaur: Mantaur.
More Man than Minotaur – Man sits calmly amongst the other operators. Holding the phone awkwardly to avoid his horn, the Mantaur takes down credit card details like only he can. With a pen.
Mantaur: MANTAUR.
Nodding, Sylvia turns back to the camera.
Sylvia Starr: That El Rey and Nelly Angel match was something else. But if you want to appreciate this kind of action the way it was meant to be seen – in GUNS Arena – we need your support now.
A door slams open, as Magnus enters covered in sweat. There are actually three city blocks between the telethon studio and McCamish Pavilion where the wrestling is going down. But one of those blocks has been blocked off due to the ever-increasing Sarlacc Pit, so it’s actually a bit of a run.
Magnus (trying to catch breathe): How are we doing numbers wise?
Sylvia Starr (smiling because they are still on camera): As you know Magnus, our goal to get the necessary repairs done is two million dollars...
Magnus: And (huff) And how many pledges did we get off of El Rey and Nelly?
Sylvia Starr (looking up at the digital counter that now reads 4 thousand dollars): Fifty bucks.
Magnus (falls back into a chair, then sees he’s on Mantaur’s lap and quickly hops up): Fifty bucks!
Sylvia Starr: El Rey REALLY worked for it.
Magnus: Those ingr-
As Magnus starts to rant about the XHF fans, his microphone cuts out. The camera pulls into a tight close-up on, Sylvia.
Sylvia Starr: And now a musical interlude by Electric Mayhem!
The scene changes to a gymnasium stage where a giant red banner hangs. In black letters on it is printed the phrase “TACK AWARENESS”. A band of muppets stand by their instruments. Disney’s Marty Donovan walks out on stage in a powder blue tuxedo with a ruffled shirt and microphone. One person claps.
Marty: Thank you for the warm reception. Truthfully, I scoffed when Tinto first asked me to partake in a charity event. Where is the profit in that? The little guy then explained how tonight is to raise money for anti-thumbtack lobbyists and that changed everything. I would still be Hardkore World champion if it wasn’t for sneaking Santi making me take a bump in them. It feels so lovely to be here tonight. What a beautiful audience. Give yourselves a round of applause. You’re so lovely. Everyone’s so lovely.
The camera pans to the crowd. The only people seated are Olivia and Deacon Oldham. Ollie smiles at his compliment and claps. Tinto is preoccupied doing cartwheels in the back of the gym.
Ollie: My guy is so good.
Deacon: Good and terrible.
Marty: While you’re in a clapping mood, I’d like to give a big round of applause to my band Electric Mayhem.
The muppets begin to play the saxophone intro to a Whitney Houston song.
Marty: Electric Mayhem. They play so fine, don’t you agree?
Marty begins to sing.
Marty: I believe the orphans are our future
Train them well and get a big pay day
Explain to them why Cross is who we despise
Give them old tapes of PRIDE to learn from Royce Gracie
Let Jackalope remind us how Tapout should be.
Marty starts to do a little shimmy.
Marty: I decided long ago
Never to walk in Recoba’s shadow
If I fail, if I succeed
A boring flashback you’ll never seeeeeeeee.
Marty holds his arms out triumphantly for the big finish.
Marty: Because my greatest love of all
Is for Ollieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Olivia gasps in delight and applauds wildly. Deacon shakes his head. Tinto, exhausted from the cartwheels, naps.
Marty: ELECTRIC MAYHEM!
Marty stomps his feet on the stage and claps for each upcoming syllable.
Marty: E-LEC-TRIC-MAY-HEM!
Marty tosses down the microphone and walks off stage.
A SMASH CUT takes us back to the studio, where the biggest star on the Network is answering phones.
A Basic Goat: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaah.
Mantaur: MANTAUR.
A Basic Goat: BAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Ultimate Warrior: DING!
Magnus is chugging Pepto-Bismol like he’d poured a mickey of vodka into the pink sludge. Because he has.
Sylvia Starr: The phones are just ringing off the hook!
Magnus: How much are we up-
Sylvia Starr: I don’t want to attribute it all to Electric Mayhem fans, but two hundred dollars!
The GUNS owner groans... it actually sounds more like a death wail.
Sylvia Starr: In fairness, Marty has been telling our audience that GUNS is terrible, and generally looking putout the entire time he held a championship belt with us. Which might have affected his pull...
“Have a little faith.”
A wall of muscle walks into frame, making Sylvia weak in the knees. Magnus also seems to waver, but he’ll claim is nausea.
Magnus: Here comes bad news.
Redmond Fury: I hear we have a fundraiser going on?
Sylvia Starr: We have been joined by the XHF Phoenix champion, and MISTER GUNS himself, Redmond Fury! Red – I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing a Phoenix defence tonight?
Redmond Fury: BETTER! For every dollar that the XHF Nation donates to this noble cause, I am going to do a 90-degree one-finger push-up!
Magnus: That’s physically impossible, you fraud!
Redmond Fury: Hey Magnus, is that a honey badger in your pants or are you just happy to-
Concerned that Fury may shove a honey badger down his trousers, Magnus runs away. Fury then looks up at the digital counter – 4221.
Redmond Fury: Looks like I have some catching up to do.
Flexing his muscles, Fury lets his tuxedo explode – leaving only glistening muscles. Leaping into the air, MISTER GUNS lands on his pinky – and begins doing push-ups on it. Sylvia Starr seems to be distracted by this show of physicality, so the greatest star of the XHF steps in.
A Basic Goat: BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
We cut to outside the building where Noel Edmonds stands by. He talks to someone off-camera who we can’t see. Presumably, he isn’t aware the cameras aren’t live or rolling.
Noel Edmonds: Look, I’m just saying that in the UK, where television was invented, I’ve presented on Saturday night primetime! On the KING’S BBC! Please tell me I’m interviewing someone with weight. Biden, Obama, Warren Buffet…
(BEAT)
Noel Edmonds: I’m interviewing a dog, aren’t I? I’m interviewing a dog that sings opera…for fuck’s sake….no, that’d be ridiculous….
A little girl walks onto the screen with a Yorkshire Terrier on a lead. Edmonds rolls his eyes as he looks to the skies. His GUNS polo shirt’s red coloring matching the embarrassment on his face.
Noel Edmonds: Good evening, little girl. I’ve been told that you’re the owner of a very special dog.
The girl nods.
Noel Edmonds: And you want to SELL the dog to raise money for GUNS?
The girl once more nods.
Noel Edmonds: Do I hold the microphone to him?
Another nod. Edmonds holds the microphone to the dog’s mouth.
Dog: Hello, Noel.
Noel Edmonds: That’s amazing! You can talk!!!
Edmonds is visibly shocked. This dog would raise more money for GUNS than a Frank Windsor swear jar.
Noel Edmonds: What else can you do?
Dog: I’ve led a charmed life really. I joined the army as a pup, they found out I could talk and so I could not just smell out landmines but I could shout to my comrades to let them know where they were exactly and call out coordinates…
Noel Edmonds: That’s remarkable!
Dog: Then, naturally, the CIA wanted me because I could spy on enemy agents and they just thought I was a dog but I was blessed not just with a voice but an amazing memory. I was the one who tipped off the Intelligence community about Crimea and the Ukraine becoming issues.
Noel Edmonds: I’m honored to be in your presence.
Dog: I got pensioned off five or six years ago and again, became a sniffer dog but this time for Customs. I managed to foil drug deals worth a billion dollars in under two years!
Noel Edmonds: I’m sure everyone at home thinks you deserve a Congressional Medal of Honor! But…
He turns to the girl.
Noel Edmonds: You’re selling the dog? THIS dog! How much do you want to sell it for?
Girl: Twenty Dollars!
Noel Edmonds: Why only twenty dollars?
Girl: He’s the biggest bullshitter I’ve ever known! He's just sleeps and shits on the sofa!
Edmonds runs a hand quickly over his throat in a ‘CUT’ motion as we go back to the studio.
Sylvia Starr: Great work Noel, every little bit counts!
Redmond Fury is matching the little girl’s donation in 90-degree one-handed pinky push-ups. “YELP’s OWN” Barry Cho has given up on answering phones, and is hosing Fury down with oil – since it seems to be more effective at driving pledges.
Sylvia Starr (fanning herself): Let’s throw it back over to Joey and Randy at the thrillerdome, where we join some exciting GUNS action in progress-
FOURTEEN MAN TAG MATCH
Rival Recruiter Ozawa, Daichi Endo, Kei Yamada, Ida Nori, Yanagi Hisoka, Sasaki Nobuo & GREEN UWABAMI (Not J-RoK Young Lions)
Vs.
The Netflix Warrior, El Hijo De Hulu, Discovery+ Ancient Alien, The Primal Amazonian, Peacock Feathers, FuboFume & Masked Crunchyroll
Hawke: Welcome back fans – for those of you not in attendance tonight, we’ve witnessed one of the greatest fourteen man tags in the history of the XHF.
Randy: If by great, you mean twenty minutes of Netflix Warrior manhandling the Asians.
Hawke: POWERSLAM on Nori!
Randy: I don’t think Netflix Warrior has tagged out once.
Hawke: As the Streaming Wars goes, he has been a dominant force.
An Irish whip sends Nori into his own corner where Hisoka tags himself in. before Hisoka can enter the ring, however, Warrior charges in with a splash that knocks the entire Japanese team off the apron. The probably racist crowd eat it up, as Netflix runs over to the ropes and starts shaking them until he completely gasses out.
Hawke: Now that we’re being broadcast on pay per view, Netflix Warrior going to his corner to tag a team mate in... what a great captain, wanting everyone to get exposure.
Randy: He’s exhausted.
Hawke: He’s all heart!
As Netflix Warrior goes for the tag - Discovery+ Ancient Alien spits blue venom in his face! Blinded, Warrior starts to swing his massive arms around – almost punching Masked Crunchyroll, but instead being pulled throat first across the ropes.
Hawke: What is this! I can’t believe it!
Randy: I can’t believe it’s taken this long.
Hawke: The rest of the Streaming mascots turning on Netflix Warrior – realizing he controls far too much of the market share! If only Marty Donovan was around, they’d have a second target.
From behind, GREEN UWABAMI hits a spinout cobra clutch. And goes for the cover.
Hawke: The snake guy with a pin – ONE! BIG KICKOUT BY NETFLIX WARRIOR! IT’s GOING TO TAKE MORE THAN-
Randy: Nubuo and Endo coming off the top with a double flying headbutt! Now all three covering Warrior- ONE! TWO! I can’t believe it!
Hawke: Even with three men covering him, Warrior is able to fight back.
Suddenly all the not J-RoK players and Streaming Wars characters enter the ring, and start beating the crap out of Netflix Warrior.
Hawke: Wait, they didn’t turn on him because he’s a superior streaming service, Warrior’s team has been RIVAL RECRUITED!
Randy: He does it again!
Hawke: Ozawa proving that no matter who you are, he can rival recruit you to his side!
Randy: I feel like he’s done that to me already!
Hawke: Poor Warrior, getting gang beaten by thirteen men. Oh the humanity! And now they are all pinning him-
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
Bonnie Jenkins: The winner of this “match,” Rival Recruiter Ozawa, Daichi Endo, Kei Yamada, Ida Nori, Yanagi Hisoka, Sasaki Nobuo, GREEN UWABAMI, (deep breathe), El Hijo De Hulu, Discovery+ Ancient Alien, The Primal Amazonian, Peacock Feathers, FuboFume AND Masked Crunchyroll!!!
The crowd throw garbage at Rival Recruiter Ozawa, but it mostly hits his private army – because there are so many of them.
Randy: I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. I don’t think I’ve seen a person pinned by that many wrestlers since Death Trap.
Hawke: Well Death Trap's career came back from it, so I'm sure the same can be said of Netflix Warrior.
Randy: Career, sure... but mental trauma? I bet even as we speak Death Trap is plotting revenge on the road agent that didn't notice how close this was to that tragic night.
Hawke: As medical staff treats to the downed Streaming War Giant, lets throw it back to Sylvia at the studio.
The camera pans from the digital counter, which is surprisingly climbing, to Sylvia Starr as she strolls through the call-in-center.
MONGONUTS: Oooooooook!
GUNS trained chimp thanks the viewer for their donation, by throwing feces at his phone. Sylvia moves it right along.
Sylvia Starr: ...We’re also joined by current HKW Heavyweight Champion, Cross Recoba!
We cut to Recoba who is in the middle of a particularly animated call.
Cross Recoba: Seriously? Five dollars is what you’re pledging, that’s it? I spend more on gum a day than hat!...I’m saying that the card processing fees will eat up most of what you give!...Don’t give me excuses, there’s probably a fundraising appeal in the Ukraine for you!
The basic goat is eating its phone.
Sylvia Starr: Most of tonight’s performers are also pulling double duty. So if you have any questions for Ghost Nelly, I can guarantee he’s on the phone... why look, here’s El Rey.
We cut to El Rey sitting at a desk with an old dial phone in front of him. He flashes a winning smile.
El Rey: Hello. El Rey here manning the phones for this telethon. I’m just waiting for your call.
El Rey stands up.
El Rey: Speaking of bad calls.
Venom: (from off camera) No one said anything about bad calls.
El Rey: Did you see the bad call at Night of Champions that led to me no longer being XHF Junior Heavyweight Champion.
He takes a beat.
El Rey: The ref called me out because I had a treenie bit of blood in my eye.
El Rey takes a deep breath.
El Rey: But we’re not here about me. No. We’re here to save the GUNS Arena. This is a place that brings entertainment to dozens of Antlantians. This is a place that brings jobs to the community. This is a place that houses all of Wombat’s kids.
El Rey begins to count how many kids Wombat has, but once he reaches 10 he looks up frustrated.
El Rey: So please, open up your pockets, for the children.
The camera flash pans back over to Sylvia.
Sylvia Starr: Speaking of the junior heavyweight champion ...we have been joined in studio by the man that is headlining the wrestling portion of tonight’s event despite official protests, Zoran Sainovic-
The XHF Devil is decked out in an Armani suit.
Zoran Sainovic: Sylvia.
Sylvia Starr: Will you be putting your JHC title on the line tonight.
Zoran Sainovic: No.
Sylvia Starr: I can’t believe you of all people would consider Copycat a threat-
Zoran Sainovic: All wrestlers are zreats. What we do in ze ring is dangerous, and should never be diminished just because ze audience doesn’t appreciate ze skillset of a participant. So it’s not zat. What me and... ‘cat have? It is BIGGER zan titles. Blood zis bad is zicker zan gold. I tried to explain zat to ze Overheated booking committee, but apparently zey can only understand how serious tonight’s contest will be… zrough action. (sad smile) But now, a show of talent...
Walking over to the phone area, Zoran physically intimidates MOTHER’s Norman Crabbe out of his seat. Pulling the chair up to the table, Sainovic produces a picture of Copycat. Then places his hand over it. Pulling a switchblade out of his sleeve, Zoran starts to stabbing between the spaces.
Zoran Sainovic: Ze knife game. Ze faster money comes in, ze faster I’ll go.
As the Final Boss stabs away, the picture under his hand – Copycat – gets stabbed again and again.
Sylvia Starr: Zoran showing his impressive blade skills – if you want him to cut off a finger, be sure to donate now!
The numbers start to really climb.
Sylvia Starr: We’re now going to send it back to the arena for a tag match over a year in the making!
Zoran’s knife game is moved to a smaller box in the far corner of the screen, picture in picture style. That copycat image is getting decimated.
Hawke: Up next fans we have a tag match with some of the worst bad blood I’ve seen on the Network.
Randy: ...Am I working this show?
Hawke: For the last year WUK has had a highly competitive tag division, but despite the wins, and points accumulated, the stars never cashed them in for a XHF global title shot. A line was drawn in the sand – a division onto itself, with series animosity towards the rest of the Network.
Randy: In fairness, the main WUK tag team at the time were kind of dicks.
Hawke: Kind of? Regardless, WUK just crowned NEW champions – and the first challenge on their docket, a veritable DREAM MATCH against the current XHF global tag champions.
Randy: Whoa! I’m surprised they were politically able to pull that off.
Hawke: They weren’t. After signing a contract against Dis’ N’ Griz’ – the team of Marty Donovan and Deacon Oldham dropped their global straps at Night of Champions. As a result, the Epcot Mafia will not have their WUK tag titles on the line.
Randy: That blows.
Hawke: So it is no longer title against title, but its still the best tag that WUK has to offer taking on a team that until a week ago were the best in the XHF.
Randy: Strong objection over terminology that discounts Off the Wagon, but on paper this actually sounds really promising. What could go wrong?
Hawke: …...look closer at the paper.
Randy: OH.
Bonnie Jenkins: The following tag team contest is an Atlanta Street Fight, scheduled for one fall – and has a thirty minute time limit!
Randy: Atlanta Street fight? So is it outside.
Hawke: No, it’s in the ring- but all men are legal... as are weapons...
“Let The Eagle Soar” by former US Attorney General John Ashcroft pumps over the PA system, as the capacity crowd wonders why Marty doesn’t just use Electric Mayhem for his entrance music.
Bonnie Jenkins: Entering first – representing CAR – the former XHF GLOBAL TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD, Deacon Oldham – Marty Donovan...
DISSSSSSSSS’ NNNNNNNNNNNN GRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIZ’!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Deacon Oldham wears military fatigues and face camouflage while Marty is dressed as Captain America from Avengers: Infinity War. They carry American flags and bicker the whole way to the ring. Marty strips down to his normal wrestling attire. He then attempts to point to his Tangled tattoo and give a wink into the floor camera. Deacon cuts off this Carol Burnett ear tug and looks down the lens instead, ordering Ollie to break up with this loser.
Hawke: And yet when we saw his demands of his daughter met, Deacon had second thoughts.
Randy: How scary is the dating world, when parents consider Marty is a catch.
Bonnie Jenkins: And their opponents... the WRESTLE UK TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS, MARTY DONOVAN, AND FLORIDA MAAAAAAAAAN!
“What does everybody want?”
Crowd (clap back): TO. SAVE. GUNS. ARENA.
“What does everybody need?”
Crowd (clap back): THE. SARLACC. PIT. TO. BE. FILLED.
A wild Florida Man pops out of the tall grass, and stomps through the curtains.
Florida Man: Seriously? Y’all know Star Wars is another galaxy right? The Sarlacc Pit can’t hurt you.
Crowd: Yes. It. Can.
Florida Man (shaking head): ...Y’all must be from Florida. MY PEOPLE!
Apparently FML approves, slapping hands as he makes his way down to the ring.
Florida Man: But instead of raising money for a building, wouldn’t you rather see me and Marty kick the asses of... MARTY! What are you doing here?
Marty Donovan: About that-
Bonnie Jenkins: He’s the Dis in Dis’ N Griz’.
This needs to be handled with tact.
Marty Donovan (raising hand to explain): There has been a misunderstanding. I have no intention of-
Florida Man: *LETS OUT A HOWL THAT SOUNDS MILDLY COUP-TARDED*
Furious that he’s been betrayed AGAIN, Florida Man takes off Marty Donovan’s head with a lariat.
ATLANTA STREET FIGHT
EPCOT MAFIA VS. DIS’ N GRIZ’
DING! DING! DING!
Deacon Oldham laughs, happy to see Marty’s poor life choices come back to haunt him. At least until, Florida Man grabs him by the collar-
Deacon Oldham: I’m not with that putz-
Florida Man (channelling the Water Boy): *LETS OUT A HOWL THAT SOUNDS MILDLY COUP-TARDED*
A roundhouse right knocks Deacon into Marty. Dis’ N Griz’ exchange heated words on the canvas.
Deacon Oldham (holding nose): This is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into.
Marty Donovan: ME? He wouldn’t be angry if you weren’t here!
Deacon Oldham: I was giving you another chance for Ollie’s sake, you son of a-
The former champions climb up to their feet just in time to get cheap shotted with a double closeline... to the ankles.
Deacon Oldham: AH! THE WAR WOUND!
Grabbing his foot in agony, Ollie’s dad crawls to his corner. Not familiar with Texas Tornado rules, Deacon thinks this will let him sit out the rancid affair – it will not. Florida Man goes for another lariat, but Marty grabs the arm and Japanese armdrags him into the corner... where he lands on the wounded Oldham. Fired up, Florida Man stands up on the old man that is trying to replace him in Marty’s tag heart... accidentally stomping on Deacon’s crotch!
Deacon Oldham: ARGH my groin!
Florida Man: MARTY HOW COULD YOU!
Marty Donovan (turning another roundhouse into an armdrag to keep up distance): Will you listen! (armdrag) Stupid GUNS double booked me. (armdrag) But I’m on your team. (armdrag) Let’s just double-team the old man into oblivion... (armdrag) and call it a day.
Deacon Oldham: Now wait a minute!
Finally seeing reason, Florida Man calms down long enough to listen to his best friend.
Florida Man: I’m sorry for doubting you bud-
Before the Epcot Mafia can reunite, Deacon Oldham shoves Marty HARD. Disney’s Own staggers forward – head colliding with Florida Man hard enough that both members of the team are brought to their knees.
Marty Donovan (nose bleeding): What the hell was that for?
Deacon Oldham: I can hear you, you rat bastard!
Marty Donovan (holding nose): I’m trying to calm the situation! You’re going to make it worse-
His snout crushed by the headbutt, Florida Man sees red.
Florida Man (trying to fix mask): ...again...
Deacon Oldham: Why aren’t WE double-teaming him into oblivion?
Marty Donovan (putting a reassuring hand on Deacon’s shoulder): I have way better odds with him.
Deacon Oldham: Ollie is going to hear about th-
Having had his feelings hurt bad enough to leave the XHF forever, Florida Man stomps off.
Marty Donovan (looking around): Wait, shouldn’t you be counting him out?
Mitch Mitchell: It’s an Atlanta Street Fight - no countouts. Besides. You two are the legal men.
Disney’s Own gives Mitchell a dirty look, before Deacon sucker punches him.
Marty Donovan (holding his still bleeding nose): ARGH. Atch da ose!
Deacon Oldham: Sorry Marty, I’m doing this for Ollie! If we’re going to keep bonding, we need this win – you Epcot Mafia scum!
Marty Donovan: Really?
Only before Marty can finish the Really, he gets sucker punched again. It isn’t long before the two are rolling around the canvas trying to work headlocks.
Hawke: Well, this match ended up being exactly what we thought it would be.
Randy: Should we call the winner now?
Hawke: I don’t see why not – they’ll tire themselves out eventually, but let’s send it back to the studio for-
Randy: What’s that sound?
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz-
Deacon Oldham: If you broke my hearing aid, I swear to Christ-
Marty Donovan: Can you get Tinnitus from nose damage?
Dis’ N Griz’ look up... and quickly roll out of the way, as Florida Man slashes down with a chainsaw.
Randy: Well Flo is back, and he’s gone full Leatherface.
Hawke: That might be Florida Man BINGO for me.
Randy: Drat.
Hawke: I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again – we all understand how betrayed Florida Man feels, its why none of us would ever put our own faith in Marty Donovan, but there is NO PLACE FOR CHAINSAWS IN WRESTLING.
Randy: I’m just glad FML brought that weapon with him, instead of Charles as a surprise third tag team.
Hawke: Adding a third tag team would be ridiculous, he isn’t that crazy.
Randy: It happens in J-RoK all the time.
The wrestling match has degenerated into JACKASS ballet, as Marty and Deacon pivot, leap, dive, duck, and roll like men with much younger legs – in a continued effort to avoid dismemberment from Florida Man’s wild chainsaw swings.
Deacon Oldham: If this is what passes for a FRIEND of yours, Ollie shouldn’t be anywhere near you!
Marty Donovan (holding nose while rolling away): i ear u. ‘ut ‘Low iz har’m’lesss – iz Into u ave to atch.
The ring cut in half – literally – Dis’ N Griz’ have nowhere left to turn, and are stuck in the same corner. Heroically, they attempt to use one another as human shields. Eventually Marty gets the better of the exchange, getting Deacon out front. Deacon lets him, perfectly aware from his military days that the chainsaw will go right through both of them.
Deacon Oldham: Marty, if this is it – I want you to know. You are a bad person.
Marty Donovan: i ow.
Just when it looks like the former champions are about to die, Florida Man turns off the chainsaw... or does it run out of gas.
Florida Man: Y’all should see the looks on your faces. See Marty, you ain’t the only one that is good at pranks.
Without missing a beat, Dis’ N Griz’ take Florida Man down with a double spear. Mitch Mitchell kicks the chainsaw out of the ring, just in case it can be started up again.
Hawke: The former champions once again on the same page, stomping a mud hole in the erratic Floridian. Both men looking pretty tired from the chainsaw chase-
Randy: That was exhausting. I think Florida Man is in worse shape from trying to avoid sawing himself in half, then he is this beating.
Hawke: Dis’ N Griz’ looking to end it- could we see FROM THE TUMMY OF THE GRIZZLY BEAR?
Marty Donovan starts to lift Florida Man for his release snapdragon suplex, but Florida Man gets a foot on the top rope. He is thrown towards Deacon, but the angle shifts slightly, so that the subsequent pounce ends up hitting both members of the Epcot Mafia.
Hawke: NO! Slight miscalculation-
Randy: Or was that the Murphy’s Law?
Hawke: I am so sick of these tag teams, matches, and moves that can be interpreted different ways.
Frustrated at his ribs, Marty blindly kicks out – which just happens to nick Deacon’s ankle. As the older man struggles to fight through the pain of his war wound, Florida Man hits him with a MINDBLOWER. Marty tries to stop Florida Man, but the Floridian just gives a thumbs up – then stomps on his partner’s chest. Grabbing Deacon by the neck, Florida Man starts to carry him to the top.
Hawke: Florida Man looking to hit a belly-to-back superplex!
Randy: Wait, here comes Marty-
Getting behind him, Marty Donovan grabs Florida Man by the waist. While the two men are trying to jockey for position, Deacon comes too – and starts to fight back. All three men struggle up top – before being thrown off. The mess of bodies might be a triple suplex, but the way they hit the canvas, it would be hard to say which two of the three were in control.
Hawke: TRIPLE SUPLEX!
Randy: THAT SHOULDN’T BE POSSIBLE WITHOUT FOUR MEN, AND THIS MATCH HAS ONLY EVER HAD THREE!
Hawke: Wait, referee Mitch Mitchell noticing a pin in that mess?
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING! DING! DING!
Mitchell converses with Bonnie for a minute, as the men slowly start rising to their feet.
Bonnie Jenkins: Ladies and Gentlemen- as a result of a double pinfall- your winners of this match… the team of...
THE EPCOT MAFIA!
AND!
DIS’ N GRIZ’!
Hawke: A double pin?
Randy: It looks like both Deacon and Florida Man pinned the right Marty – I don’t think they were aware of it though.
Hawke: Talk about physically impossible.
As they hear the good news, Florida Man raises Deacon Oldham’s arm in victory. Behind them, Marty Donovan, who definitely got the worst of the exchange, passes out.
Florida Man: The little fellow tuckered himself out.
Deacon Oldham: What are you sleeping on the job for? I swear I have to pull all the weight on this team.
Florida Man: I hear that.
Shaking their heads in disappointment, Florida Man and Deacon Oldham lift the unconscious Marty up. Next stop, the Mischief Express!
Randy: So it was a draw?
Hawke: At least Mongo will be happy.
As the announcers throw it back, the image in the corner of the screen of Zoran’s knife game gets larger. The knife finally takes up the full screen, just as Sainovic stabs it into his hand!
“AAAAAAAAAARGH!”
The camera pulls out to a medium shot to find that Zoran hadn’t been using his own hand, but that of Assistant Zamboni Bandit. Holding her hand in agony, AZB starts up her imaginary Zamboni and drives off the telethon set.
Zoran Sainovic: Put some ice on it – you won’t even need stitches! ...Ask Fox!
Sylvia Starr: Was that really necessary?
Zoran Sainovic (shrug): I can go much faster when it’s not my own hand.
Sylvia Starr: It is very hard to have wrestlers assigned to all these phones. Fans are calling in donations because they love GUNS, but also because they want to speak to Donzig!
Zoran Sainovic (pulling out wallet): I’ll take zat bet.
Magnus: Don’t worry I’ve got it covered...
Looking over Sylvia is disgusted to find that the 27 Wombat orphans are working the phone center.
Magnus: Hey fans, have you ever wanted to chat to Wombat Junior? Wombat Junior Junior? Or the Wombat girl with lice? How’d she get those lice? Maybe you can sneak the question in while giving a tax-deductible donation to yours truly!
Wombat child age 3: No. Yes. No. Yes. Spaghetti.
The child hangs up the phone.
Sylvia Starr: Let the real wrestlers like Zamboni Bandit get back on there-
Magnus: These orphans have to start pulling their weight! I’d pay to save the arena myself if they weren’t eating me out of house and home and arena!
As Magnus and Sylvia argue over the best way to actually run this show, Zoran knows a lost cause when he sees one, and decides to head off to the arena to prepare for his match. No sooner does the Final Boss exit the studio space, then his arch-nemesis arrives.
Sylvia Starr: At least swap out half the orphans, let them work in shifts-
Steve Awesome enters the Wrestle-Thon stage in an open button down t-shirt. The phones start ringing off the hook.
Steve grabs the microphone.
Steve Awesome: As a great friend to the guns, I absolutely knew I needed to help them in any way I could. I figured I could wrestle a match, maybe defend the Hard(k)ore Championship of the World.
The crowd in attendance cheer and the phones ring even louder.
Steve Awesome: But unfortunately Magnus couldn’t afford my booking fee so I decided to do the next best thing! That’s right! I’m going to debut the trailer for my latest film in the Shitstorm series.”
All the phones immediately stop ringing. Awesome looks around confused as he could now hear crickets and a pin drop in the back row. He ultimately shrugs it off and continues.
Steve Awesome: I’m really excited to show you all. We’ve been working hard despite the writers strike because I know how to negotiate my contract and gets paid.”
Some of his crew and assistants glare at him from the background.
Steve Awesome: So without further adieu. I give you the never before seen trailer for Shitstorm 8! Winds of Shitstorms past”
We find Barry Wimbledon, the main character of the franchise played by Steve Awesome, sitting in his zen garden. He has salt and pepper colored hair and he’s wearing regular eyeglasses.
He glances up at the dark ominous clouds rolling in.
Barry Wimbledon: “Don’t concern yourself with that Barry….”
He says to himself.
Barry Wimbledon: “….we’re not in the storm chasing business anymore.”
He takes a deep breath and goes back to relaxing.
~~~~
Cut to Barry Wimbledon walking into the familiar laboratories of StormCo.
Barry Wimbledon: “You all better be presenting me a plaque or something, because I’m retired.”
Even though Barry was older now, he was still cool enough to grab a chair, spin it around and sit in it backwards. A scientist at a computer looks at some data on his screen.
Scientist: “We got a storm brewing!”
Barry shrugs his shoulders.
Barry Wimbledon: “So send out an official StormCo team to investigate. I already told you I’m retired.”
Barry started to get up and leave when a female voice he hadn’t heard in a long time freezes him in his tracks.
“You are going to want to hear this, Barry.”
It was the voice of his old complicated flame. It was Regina Cummingtime. (Played by Cameron Diaz) She was an older but still sexy and super dignified scientist. Barry and Regina stare at each other and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.
Barry Wimbledon: Regina! I haven’t seen you in ages. It’s good to see you.
Regina hands Barry a pair of headphones and she smiles.
Regina Cummingtime: Likewise.
Barry puts the headphones on and is immediately disgusted by what he heard.
Barry Wimbledon: AH! EWW. Ah just ahhh…”
Barry immediately rips the headphones off and glares at everyone.
Barry Wimbledon: Is this a joke? What am I listening too?
Regina places her hand on Barry’s and looks deep into his eyes.
Regina Cummingtime: These sounds seem to be coming through space and time. From what we understand these “gusts of wind” are squeezing out into our atmosphere through tiny holes. Whenever and wherever they want. It doesn’t matter. In or out of public, loud ones, quiet ones, sometimes they will pop up real close and let a bunch of little ones rip next to you while your not paying attention.
Barry crossed his arms over his bulging chest.
Barry Wimbledon: I still don’t understand what this has to do with me?
Regina Cummingtime: We believe that this “wind” is from Shitstorm! But the Shitstorm from the past. They are….”
Close up angle on Regina.
Regina Cummingtime: The Winds of Shitstorm’s Past!
Barry slowly pulled his glasses off in shock.
Barry Wimbledon: Oh…my……gawd!
~~~~~
“There have been eight of these movies and they just get progressively worse each time.”
-Movie Critic Magazine.
“Steve Awesome fills your bargain bins yet again with Shitstorm 8. Get your giant wooden crate full now.”
-Merchant Weekly.
“WHY!?”
-The quick question Blog.
“WERE INTO IT!”
-Dutch People Magazine.
“Featuring the new Weird Al Yankovic parody of that classic Rachel Platten hit.
“Fart Song”
~~~~~
We open on a city at night. The lead Shitstorm (played by Garey Busey) floats through the night sky with other various Shitstorms from space and time!
Shitstorm: Who ever smelt it, dealt it. Whoever supplied denied it….”
Shitstorm pops another fart wind from its ominous cloud.
Shitstorm: And whoever heard’er gets MURDERED!!!!!”
Suddenly Barry Wimbledon appears flanked by some cavemen, a couple medieval knights, a gang of cowboys, some guys from World War Two and a couple of people who look like they are from the future.
Everyone charges as the Weird Al parody plays!
🎶This is my fart song!🎶
🎶Don’t trust that shart song!🎶
All except Barry who just looks at all the insanity and the war and violence going on. He shakes his head and sighs.
Barry Wimbledon: I’m getting too old for this shit.
Cut as Barry runs into the fray.
SHITSTORM 8: WINDS OF SHITSTORMS PAST
Coming to a theater near you.
Sylvia Starr: Well I know what I’m seeing in theatres! But imagine watching something else on Netflix instead, for the thirty dollars you save on tickets – you could bring a smile to Magnus’ face. Save GUNS Arena. Our dedicated phone team have been working hard to ensure that GUNS can live on!
Cuts to Recoba once more.
Cross Recoba: You’re ten?...No, it’s fine. Do you know where your parents keep their cards? You do! Just read that long number across the top….Great, and the expiry date? Now, think of the largest number you know in your head...
Uncomfortable with Cross’ pressure tactics, Sylvia walks over to the next promotion head.
Sylvia Starr: Speaking of the phones, we have been joined by the president of J-RoK - Nausicaä Suzuki!
Suzuki is one of the two dozen XHF stars currently manning the phones, though seems to be holding off on picking up the receiver.
Nausicaä Suzuki: "(We at J-RoK have always enjoyed our working relationship with GUNS. My administration was deeply saddened to learn of the tragedy that befell GUNS Arena, and are happy to be doing our part.)"
Sylvia Starr: Not just your part, I hear that J-RoK has gone above and beyond with a very special treat for one of our callers?
Nausicaä Suzuki: "(That is correct. For the 1000th pledge, J-RoK will be allowing that generous caller to create a stipulation for our upcoming Parade of 1000 Demons tournament.)"
The phone suddenly lights up, and the J-RoK president answers it, taking down credit card information.
Sylvia Starr (to camera): What a generous offer! Leave it to J-RoK to think outside the box ...Oh... (turning back to Suzuki) I hear we have our 1000th pledge coming in now.
Nausicaä Suzuki (holding up receiver): "(Thank you for your support, Daniel Wilson. What stipulation would you like to see at our Parade of 1000 Demons?)"
Daniel Wilson (voice): Oh, this is so sudden. Um. Do I have to choose now? I, uh, guess I've always wanted to see a... exploding flavour popcorn shrimp on a bed of Dublo with war and peace on a pole clown ridding unicycle death match?
Nausicaä Suzuki: "(...................We'll see what we can do.)"
Daniel Wilson: YES! This is going to be the best Parade of 1000 Demons ever!
Sylvia Starr: It sounds like he just strung a series of words together and tacked death match on the end.
Nausicaä Suzuki (nodding with a smile): "(It's the J-RoK way.)"
Sylvia Starr (stepping away from the phones): Now its not just GUNS that has been affected by this Star Wars themed sinkhole, but the entire community of northern Atlanta. To see how devastating it’s been to the other businesses, we asked Shoe Shine Syko to speak with our neighbours...
The camera cuts to the Cumberland Mall, where Shoe Shine Syko is trying to polish footwear as a side hustle. Realizing the camera is on him, Triple S makes his way through the food court.
Shoe Shine Syko: That’s right Sylvia, as you can see the foot traffic is depressed...
Triple S walks up to the Thai Café.
Shoe Shine Syko: Excuse me, we were just wondering how the trouble by the arena was affecting business-
Thai Café Manager: Oh, it’s just awful. At this rate we’re going to go under-
Shoe Shine Syko: The hole has been hurting you that much?
Thai Café Manager: Hole? No! The wrestlers-
The manager points towards the food court, where Dinosaur Bones is having his thirty ninth helping of Cashew Nuts Chicken.
Dinosaur Bones: THESE MCNUGGETS ARE A LITTLE DRY.
Shoe Shine Syko: You should be making a fortune off of Bones’ appetite.
Thai Café Manager: He eats, he never pays! Best thing that could happen for me is if that arena fell off the face of the earth.
Shoe Shine Syko: Uh, thanks for your time. Moving along...
Trying to find a business that is hurting which is somehow helped by GUNS Arena’s proximity, Triple S moves onto the Tokyo Express.
Tokyo Express Manager: Good riddance to wrestling rubbish.
MEANWHILE... INSIDE THE BEAST.
Like a Black Rider out of Middle-Earth, ARM815H1 MK.69 stalks the Crystal Skull champion across the City of Bone's markets. The federation thief is close - and if she insists on hanging onto the trophy, the Furminator will redecorate the town square in a crimson mist. Nothing will stand in the way of their revenge against Bloodied Fox. It as they skulk down an alleyway, claws drawn - that they are distracted from the prize.
L.A. Wombat: Excuse me - holding up picture in his wallet. Have you seen this woman?
ARM815H1 MK.69: AT THE MOMENT, THIS UNIT ONLY HAS ONE GIRL ON IT'S MIND.
L.A. Wombat: But if you could just take a closer look - she has to be around here somewhere.
ARM815H1 MK.69: TAKE A HINT STUD, THIS UNIT JUST DOESN'T HAVE THE TIME TO WARM YOU UP.
L.A. Wombat: I'm not looking for company, my wife is somewhere-
A figure runs off down the hallway. The Trekker pretending to transport again? ARM815H1 MK.69 enters pursuit mode - only for an arm to grab their shoulder.
L.A. Wombat (again holding out wallet): This is very important-
Not allowing their mission to be compromised, ARM815H1 MK.69 smacks Wombat's hand away.
LA AUTHENTICO WOMBAT VS. ARM815H1 MK.69
Not deterred, Wombat continues his holy quest – trying to work a wristlock to force the picture into MK.69’s hand. More about the action, and not swayed by romance, the Furminator repeatedly headbutts L.A. Wombat until his face has almost caved in – like that scene from Irreversible. Despite his nose being broken in eight places, L.A. Wombat’s torch for his wife shines too brightly, and he somehow hangs onto the wristlock. Wishing this annoying little man would take the hint, MK.69 releases razor sharp claw mode – and promptly slashes Wombat to ribbons. Despite the strips of flesh being torn from his body, Wombat holds on – somewhere inside this hell his wife was waiting, and he would rescue her. Trying to shake Wombat off of him, MK. 69 violently shakes him around the square – eventually throwing him into a fountain – where the sludge that passes for water soon turns bright red. Placing a boot on his face, the Furminator tries to yank a drowning Wombat off his wrist. Keep fighting Wombat! You’re doing it for her! Yanking Wombat out, MK.69 turns it into a backbreaker THROUGH the fountain. The wristlock stands. The Furminator then runs along the square walls, throwing him through window after window. Broken glass shreds Wombat almost as much as the claws did, but the thought of his woman gives him strength. For her, he will go through hell itself. Finally an Interstellar Road Head takes Wombat’s will out of the equation, as his head bounces off the cobblestone floor – knocking him out.
Winner: ARM815H1 MK.69
Gained: 18 EXP, 4 Skill Points.
SKILL LVL UP!
ARM815H1 MK.69 became a level 4 homewrecker!
Learned “DM SLIDE”
The Furminator forces Wombat’s hand from their wrist.
ARM815H1 MK.69: LIFE SIGNS CRITICAL. DISENGAGING. NEXT TIME, PLAY HARDER TO GET.
A blood caked hand, holds out the picture one last time...
ARM815H1 MK.69: NEGATIVE. (turning away) RE-ENGAGE TREKKER.
As the Furminator continues on their quest, L.A. Wombat’s breathing grows shallow.
MEANWHILE... BACK AT THE CUMBERLAND MALL.
Dinosaur Bones: SERVER APES, THIS PLATE ISN’T GOING TO FILL ITSELF!
The various food court employees race to feed the bottomless pit.
Costco Food Court Employee: If only that stupid arena would disappear, this scourge might join it.
Trying to escape grumblings about how much better their lives would be if GUNS folded, Shoe Shine Syko turns to the various fashion boutiques. Perhaps a customer can talk about the poor selection, caused by the street closures. A woman with twenty large design bags walks past.
Shoe Shine Syko: Excuse me, miss?
Woman: Sorry I’m bus-
The woman’s eyes widen as she notices the camera. Shoe Shines’ eyes widen as he recognizes the woman.
Shoe Shine Syko: MRS. WOMBAT!
Mrs. Wombat: That is so insulting. I have a first name you know.
Shoe Shine Syko: We thought you were dead! We all saw Dinosaur Bones eat you-
Mrs. Wombat (pointing at the food court): He’s hollow. You go through his mouth, you end up falling through to the floor. Just scramble out of sight while he’s chewing. ...You aren’t smart to the business, are you?
Shoe Shine Syko: You’ve been missing for ten months! Your poor husband launched a rescue mission inside Dinosaur Bones to find you! Even as we speak, that noble man is risking his life under the false impression that you are in danger!
Mrs. Wombat (rolling eyes): Any excuse to slack off. That numbskull. Did he take the kids with him?
Shoe Shine Syko: No, he left them with Magnus.
Mrs. Wombat (fuming): TYPICAL. You know how many holidays I had to look after the kids because Magnus had L.A. working them? Lets not forget the year he was “inside a bear.” I want a little time to myself, and what does the jerk do? Sticks our kids with his boss, and goes off with the boys for another adventure. I’m going to murder that deadbeat!
Waxing over her pulling a Mongo style disappearing act for almost a year, Mrs. Wombat finds a way to make herself the victim in this scenario. As she stomps off to continue her shopping spree, while ranting about her worthless spouse, Syko turns to the camera.
Shoe Shine Syko: BREAKING NEWS! MRS. WOMBAT IS ALIVE! ...And might be the biggest heel in the XHF?
Yeah, that tops Nelly. There is no might about it.
Shoe Shine Syko (shaking his head in disgust): Back to you, Sylvia!
Back at the studio, Sylvia Starr is sitting on Redmond Fury’s feet to make his 90-degree angle pinkie push-ups even harder.
Sylvia Starr: That Mrs. Wombat is going to come to a bad end!
Redmond Fury: 10765. Let’s try not to judge her. 10766. We don’t know what she’s going through. 10767. All we… 10768... can do is hope for Wombat’s safe return.
Sylvia Starr: All I know is when the Wombat’s are finally reunited, I hope it’s in GUNS Arena! And you viewers at home can ensure we see that uncomfortable encounter, by calling in your donations now! We can’t save GUNS Arena without you.
With that, Sylvia gets off Fury – sliding down his back, which is easy because of the awkward angle he does this super human exercise.
Sylvia Starr: WRESTLE-A-THON 2023 WOULD LIKE TO GIVE A WARM WELCOME TO OUR NEXT GUEST! HE IS A MASTER OF COIFFURE AND ALL THINGS FOLLICULAR AND YOUR MANSCAPING COIFFEUR FOR THE EVENING. PLEASE GIVE A STYLISH WELCOME TO … PRIMAL!
There is studio audience piped in applause as Primal appears outside in a well-lit fenced in area. He waves his hands and his hair forms a hand and does the queen wave on his chest as he strolls out in nothing but his mask, his loincloth, and a monocle and beret. He then claps his hands and smiles that sickening smile that you swear you can see stink lines coming off his breath.
: "AH YES! Ladies and germs, bon soir! Bonjour! And Bon Scott! And welcome to Primal’s Art of Manscaping, or, how to artify your man bush!"
Piped in applause as the background seems to ripple and move and we see it is actually Godzilla standing there applauding her man, also wearing a beret and monocle. Out from behind Primal bounds Buttons the War Corgi dressed to the nines in a corgi tuxedo. He saunters up and stands next to Primal.
: "As we men know there is nothing more intimidating to our enemies or slaying to our paramours than a well-tamed mane! And what better way to frame your man rod than with the stylings of the Hairman of the Board? As you can see, we have a lot to talk about because let’s face it. Ain’t none of you going to be blessed with hair like mine!"
His hair poses and flexes its … uh … muscles. The King Coif of Keratin showing off in the artificial lighting is sight to behold as his hair forms itself into an array of hair care tools.
: "First it is imperative you warm up your sculpting tools!"
Primal turns to the large shrubbery behind him and his hair tools begin to mow away at the topiary and form it into … Magnus! He then begins to tenderly clip away some stray throwaways before accidentally shaving the left side of Magnoli-us and leaving him with an emo haircut. Buttons leaps up and plants a sign in his plant hand that says, “I pine for Redmond, will self-flagellate for Fury, My Chemical Romance gets it.”
: "Boof Borf!"
: "Why yes Buttons! It is important to warm up on something not worthy of love! After all, what would you feel if someone was cutting YOUR stylish ‘do and something untoward happened?"
Primal continues to mess around and trims off one of Magnus Ivy’s eyebrows. He covers his mouth in shock and shame and then continues.
: "Now it is not likely you will do something destructive, but it is better to be safe than sorry. In the world of Hair Care, you don’t want to be an accidental Dellilah to your own Samson! And –oop!-"
Primal’s hair turns into hedge clippers and accidentally lops off the Magnus’s crotchal area!
*******
HARD CUT
*******
Primal smiles as the yard is now lit by the Mag-Eunich plant being in various states of … on fire.
: "The best tactic to use is to go in with the scissors first, and clear out any very long straggly hairs. Also NEVER shower first, wet hair just flops around flaccidly and is impossible to tame and envision your final destination. Now, once you are happy with the length of the main area, you pull out the razor with the proper length guide to even out your handy work. Then switch to the guardless to get rid of the stubble and off-pattern follicles!"
Using his hair scissors, he makes a series of cuts and shows off Buttons with a literal bush for a bush. He then goes in and evens it out and takes off the straggler hair. He then pulls out an electric razor … from his back … made of back hair … and trims up a lightning bolt into the fur before cleaning up the edges.
: "VOY-LA! A masterpiece."
: "BRRRR OWWW ROWWW BARK!"
: "I am not giving you a snake, you are intimidating enough. Take your lightning bolt and murder Voldemort already. Now of course I am already a world renowned celebrated hair artist … and hair artist. But you too can get to this level with practice. Mannequins and wigs are great for that, also never underestimate the power of kidnap-"
*******
HARD CUT
*******
: "And now please welcome our volunteers … here with me is Purrman Melville’s brother, BartholoMEW Melville."
A large, clearly different breed, long haired cat nods to the camera in Primal’s barber chair. Next to him the camera zooms to a VERY ANGRY CHIHUAHUA in another Barber Chair behind Buttons, who has a mechanical apparatus with Doc Ock arms on his back, armed with barber tools. Of course ALL chihuahuas are always angry and hungry and mean so it’s hard to tell if he fits in with the group or just happened to be this way when they hired him.
: "Buttons, introduce your boyfriend. This is Barktholomew Q. Kazoo. They’ve been going steady since the Rumble. We found him in the neighborhood while trying to track down El Combatiente for Javier while awaiting my hardcore title match."
The camera pans to a large cow with glasses on.
: "And this is Donzig’s least favorite cow he’s ever met. Bartholomoo Wellington."
The cow moos and stomps.
: "SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE-"
: "No you cannot give it a Mohawk! That is culturally insensitive! … And the cow’s a racist …"
Primal gets to work narrating how he delicately uses the smallest scissors and a comb to perfectly manscape the groin of this large cat. He proceeds to make the cat look intimidating. And by that I mean the cat’s pubic hair looks exactly like a photorealistic image of Zoran Sainovic.
: "Perfect! Now other cats will know to stay away!"
Primal turns to look at the camera and his hair spins the chair around like you see in those movies, the cat is launched into the bushes where he gets tangles … and instead of BartholoMEW, out of the bush comes … RAGDOLL! The feline supervillain! He lets out a deep guttural MEWWWW! And flies off … uh oh … that can’t be good for HKW’s resident supercat … Purricane …
: "Buttons, now let’s see you apply what we’ve learned. Barktholomew, present yourself!"
The dog uses his Doc Ock arms to trim away at the tangled matted fur, he also nips in from time to time with his mouth. The chihuahua seems to be enjoying this as it appears he has a tube of lipstick steadily being opened up with each nip of the corgi. Finally Buttons borks in satisfaction!
: "BARK BARK YIP!"
The chihuahua has Buttons’ own face in his pubic fur.
: "Yes … you ARE a raging narcissist Buttons, it’s why we get along. You get me. Oh collect that Chihuahua hair and combine it with the cat fur, let’s send Lord Dominicus his yearly update to his gift. A merken should be useful for him. He seems the bald type …"
The chihuahua hops off the chair and rips into a bag of cocktail wieners and proceeds to go to town on them, just devouring sausage with reckless abandon.
: "… grrrr .."
: "AFTER we’re done! Zoran promised us 50% of all the money that is supposed to go to GUNS for doing this sho-"
*******
HARD CUT
*******
: "And now, let’s put all the lessons together. Godzilla baby? You are up."
The cow moos at the murder lizard, the only real true one and only murder lizard on the XHF Network. She listens intently, Dominithinks hard on what hairstyle. The cow stomps out an image of a Mohawk … Godzilla nods and holds up an ok signal in her massive claws. He grabs scissors.
: "Now everyone, PAY attention. My boo is gonna show you all that even a woman can handle a man’s hair pie…"
She rears back and nuclear breath blasts the cow…
*******
HARD CUT
*******
Buttons and Barktholomew are now seen eating copious amounts of meat. They have so much meat in their mouths. Primal sits at a fancy picnic table with a porterhouse steak, perfectly seared and perfectly medium rare, the only way to eat a cut of meat. He cuts into it and savors each delicious bite. We see Godzilla chewing on something.
: "We hope this lesson is well received and you men out there all strive to be a hair connoisseur the way I am. You too can impress all the thankless sycophants and lady sycophants in the office. And just maybe you too can see the failure that is society and civilization and settle down with a nuclear brisket. Please remember to donate generously to this worthy cause. And remember to tame your man bush … and eat steak."
As we fade out, one of those name tag stickers saying “Hello, My name is Bartholomoo” falls from Godzilla’s massive murder teeth.
A hard cut takes us back to the studio.
Sylvia Starr: Well that was super. Fans, we are just minutes away from the SCCW battle royale – but those aren’t the only Sin City stars that have come out to show their support.
Magnus (looking depressed at the counter): Nelly sure didn’t.
Sylvia Starr: Let’s throw it over to DTF-
A smash pan goes to the far corner of the studio, where a smaller stage has been set-up for the DTF crew.
Ronnie: Why are we doing this…
Brayden: It’s to help GUNS, broseph. Everybody loves GUNS.
Ronnie: If they’re a lunatic, maybe.
The camera fades into both DTF talent, Brayden Duncan, and his best friend in that of Ronnie Woodberry as they sit in director style chairs. The latter is visibly disgruntled with having to put up with more shenanigans such as this while the former is going back and forth with a series of notecards in his hands. Ronnie groans at the sight, looking somewhere off to the side and out of frame.
Ronnie: Are we rolling right now or still in intermission with all this?
Producer: Uh…you guys have been live for about the past five, now pushing ten minutes.
Ronnie: Seriously?!
Brayden chuckles to himself as he keeps shuffling through the cards, seemingly amused by the contents of them. Ronnie reaches over and smacks the Number One Broseph’s knee to get his attention.
Ronnie: Dude, we’re on!
Brayden: Oh shit…we are?
Ronnie: My god…YES YOU DUNCE!
Brayden pulls up his sunglasses, looking over at Ronnie with a raised brow, silently questioning if the red-headed stepchild of SCCW is actually telling the truth. He looks off screen to another producer, brows going up a tic once it’s confirmed.
Brayden: Well…damn. Anyway, what’s going on fellow brosephs and brosettes? Brayden Duncan of DTF and SCCW here with my partner-in-crime, The Whipping Boy, Ronnie Woodberry.
Ronnie: Please do not let that stick…
Brayden: We’re here to give our support to GUNS, which, speaking of them…
Brayden pulls off the denim jacket he’s sporting to reveal a GUNS t-shirt beneath it, emphasizing his support for the company. Ronnie, however, does not wear one, instead wearing one of the usual DTF tees.
Brayden: That in mind, welcome to the Broseph Corner of Wrestle-A-Thon! We got a simple line-up on this segment for you folks to enjoy which features a series of randomly submitted questions that Ronnie and I will be answering for the allotted time that we have on hand.
Ronnie: For the record, Kingsley made me do this. #StopRonnieAbuse.
Brayden: Hah, good one, broseph. We all know that isn’t stopping any time soon.
Ronnie loudly sighs, throwing his head back while Brayden shuffles through the cards once more.
Brayden: Let’s get started with the first one. Let’s see here….what….are your thoughts….on Goldbear II?
Ronnie: Why the fuck is a bear wrestling in the first place?
Brayden: Beats me but that ain’t weird at all! There’s that dracolich that also wrestles!
Ronnie: EATING PEOPLE DOES NOT COUNT AS WRESTLING!
Brayden: Sorry, are you Mongo? No? Exactly.
Ronnie casually flips Brayden the bird while he goes to the next card.
Brayden: If you had to save Ryan Reynolds or Ronnie, who would you choose?
Brayden looks up from the card and silently stares at Ronnie, silence uncomfortably and awkwardly hanging in the air as Ronnie tries to get a response out of the former Meme Boi.
Ronnie: Dude, seriously?
Brayden: Ronnie. Anyway…
Ronnie: You fu- Wait, for real?
Brayden: Would you wrestle in the belly of Dinosaur Bones? Yeah, probably. Seems like a fun time.
Ronnie: Okay, no, no, and fuck no-
Brayden: But I’d have Ronnie wrestle in my place.
Ronnie: DUDE?!
Brayden shrugs at Ronnie, sunglasses falling back into place over his eyes as he moves to the next card.
Brayden: Pancakes or Waffles? Waffles.
Ronnie: Pancakes.
Brayden: Basic.
Ronnie: Only thing basic here is your daily routine! Weed, Eat, Sleep, Repeat.
Brayden rubs his chin in thought for a moment, contemplating something.
Brayden: Might have to make that into a t-shirt for the upcoming Diamond Mine.
Ronnie loudly facepalms at the insult being turned into a positive by the Number One Broseph.
Brayden: Let’s see here….why is Randy Angel always getting Ronnie drunk when he comes to SCCW? Simple. Randy’s like one of two friends that Ronnie has. I’m unfortunately the other one.
Ronnie: Fuck you.
Brayden: I’m flattered that you find your fellow broseph fuckable, but no thanks. I like women, broseph.
Ronnie: Are we done yet?
Ronnie looks off screen, but he slumps into his chair more, seemingly being given a no.
Brayden: Think we got two more cards at the very least here….general thoughts on GUNS?
Ronnie: Stupid.
Brayden: Typical hater. I think it’s spectacular. The stuff you see on a GUNS show is something you’d almost never see anywhere else on the Network, save for maybe the wacky stuff that happens over in CAR. You know I hacked Doof’s site about a month ago? Turned it into a whole Cult of Bidoof bit and it was great.
Ronnie: Didn’t they lose membership over that?
Brayden: Probably, but, Bidoof gained some more fans!
Ronnie casually rolls his eyes, twirling his hand about in an effort to speed Brayden up to the next card.
Brayden: Aaaaaand, last card. Hmm….got weed? Always.
Brayden tosses the cards aside, hands moving about to produce both a joint and lighter which he swiftly sparks up and moves to take an inhale of, blowing smoke up into the air. Ronnie simply facepalms again, sighing to himself with the fact that he has to constantly keep an eye on this guy.
Ronnie: How Daigo put up with you is something I’ll never understand. Are we done now? Like done, done? We are? Good. I’m going to catering.
Ronnie slides out of his chair and walks out of the frame while Brayden keeps on puffing on his joint, head rolling back as he becomes more and more relaxed with each passing hit. One producer steps in after a few minutes to try and move Brayden and get him going but the Number One Broseph gives a lazy wave of the hand and instead is left to his own devices while the camera cuts away.
Sylvia Starr: And just think- if you call in, you might be talking to Ronnie on the phone! That would be trippy.
Magnus: Or one of the Wombat orphans-
Sylvia Starr: It turns out they aren’t orphans.
Magnus (clearly not watching the show): WHAT?
Sylvia Starr (don’t need this drama now): Let’s throw it back to the arena, where I’m told the SCCW battle royal is about to begin!
Back in the arena, East L.A. Wombat and XHF Shockmaster take bows as bouquets of roses are thrown into the ring by a truly touched audience. Apparently the DTF segment went long, and the producers didn’t have the heart to patch in the feed. Maybe a bluray extra feature?
Randy: WHAT A MATCH! I don’t think ANYONE thought they had it in them.
Hawke: There you have it fans. East L.A. Wombat and XHF Shockmaster just put on a beautiful tribute match to the late Mrs. Wombat. That was the single classiest memorial, I’ve ever witnessed.
Randy: I hope her children were able to watch that match.
Hawke: Magnus probably has them working, but it’s the thought that counts.
Randy: All I know is we’re never going to see another five star classic out of those two again.
Hawke: Well fans its finally time for a match I’ve been looking forward to- the SCCW battle royal!
Randy: Esmur has that sown up – did you see Night of Champions, with the chip on his shoulder, I would not want to be the other participants.
Hawke: Jayson Matthews picked up a lot of steam at cruiserfest, I feel like he might just surprise you. Right now, we’re going to throw announcing duties over to the voice of SCCW, Aleister Mayfield!
SCCW BATTLE ROYAL
Hawke: Thanks, Aleister! What a match! I did not see that coming.
Randy: A lot of big names in there, so that was a bit of a surprise. Why aren’t we specifically referencing the finish.
Hawke: To avoid spoilers of course.
Randy: But we were all just sitting here-
Hawke: SCCW bringing the heat, and I know GUNS Nation greatly appreciated it. Isn’t that right, Sylvia?
The camera cuts back to the studio, where Sylvia Starr is bringing the Wombat children juice boxes – only for a basic goat to keep eating them.
Sylvia Starr: Speaking as a female athlete, it’s so great to see this push for intergender matches. Thanks Sin City- for all your support!
Magnus (suspicious of the support): Those Vegas types are a degenerate gambling lot, I hope this doesn’t turn out to be a Gamespot stock scheme...
Sylvia Starr (ignoring him): Thanks to that great match, I can already see the phones ringing off the hook!
Mantaur: MANTAUR!
A Basic Goat: Baaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Baby Wombat: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
MoNGoNuTs: Oooook!
Florida Man: Diggity Dang!
Ultimate Warrior: DING!
Redmond Fury: 848,192...
Sylvia Starr: We’d like to thank everyone who has donated so far and who’ve kept the money rolling in on this important night! And I’m not the only person who is thankful, former XHF Tag-Team Champion, current holder of both the GUNS Tag-Team titles AND the GUNS Gentlemens Pairs co-champion, Mr Blobby is here with us tonight.
Mr Blobby joins Starr in front of the cameras.
Mr Blobby: BLOBBY!!
Sylvia Starr: Blobby has been manning the phones all night for us and has helped to raise a large amount of money for our cause. Not just that, he has been seen as the driving force in motivating his fellow fundraisers.
The camera shows the team highly-animated. Tonnes of empty wrappers of sherbet are littered on the floor.
Mr Blobby: BLOBBY! BLOBBY!
Mr Blobby produces Simon Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs table and points vigorously at it.
Sylvia Starr: Indeed, but we’ll skip over the slightly outdated management training charts. Don’t you have a message for Mongo?
Live Studio Audience: FUCK! MONGO!
Mr Blobby: BLOBO BLOB BLOB BLOBBY BLOBBY!!!!
Sylvia Starr: WHAT DO YOU MEAN MONGO DOESN’T CARE ABOUT PINK AND YELLOW PEOPLE???
Magnus (running back into frame, sweating bullets): WHAT GOOD IS HAVING AN ARENA, IF YOU COST US OUR NETWORK AFFILIATION!
Redmond Fury: 877,234.
The sight of his Adonis Ex working out, sends Magnus in the opposite direction. He looks back up at the digital counter, shockingly high, but well off the required amount… and wanders off.
Sylvia Starr: Well fans it is time for the main event- still plenty of time for you to show your support. Don’t let GUNS go the way of the UWO – to an alternate history – call now! Our phones will be open until the end of the broadcast – YOU CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE! For now, here’s throwing it back to Hawke and Randy one last time...
Hawke: Thanks Sylvia. Well fans, we’re in the final stretch – no better time to phone in your last minute support!
Randy: They could always be inspired by the match to want more GUNS action.
Hawke: Please... this match is only going to inspire complaints. I’d be surprised if it didn’t cause more fines than the money that was raised tonight.
Randy: You know that is Zoran’s scheme.
Hawke: Undoubtedly. Folks, I’m not going to encourage you to watch the last match of the night. Which is going to be ugly, but please know it doesn’t represent the feel good energy that GUNS is capable of- and donate accordingly.
Randy: We have to be here, we’re contractually obligated, but you don’t, all you have to do is make the call.
Bonnie Jenkins: The following GRUDGE MATCH is your MAIN EVENT of the evening... scheduled for one fall with a sixty minute time limit-
Randy: We definitely don’t have sixty minutes left-
Hawke: Well the telethon was a logistical nightmare, but I don’t think anyone sees this going an hour.
"Knights of Cydonia" by Muse plays. Immediately, Copycat runs toward the ring. Without the pregnancy weight, he moves so much quicker - wasting no time as he enters the ring in preparation for this heated feud.
Bonnie Jenkins: Introducing first, coming to us from CAR - he stands in at FIVE FEET TEN INCHES TALL and weighs in at ONE HUNDRED AND SSSSSIXTY POUNDS! He is the Prince of Jobbertown; more commonly known as Toronto. He is COPYCAT!
The crowd is kind of uncomfortable, do they cheer him? This is basically a snuff video.
Bonnie Jenkins: And his opponent-
The Heavy's "Big Bad Wolf" blasts over the PA system.
#With Time Slipping Away#
#I Can't Say What I'll Do...#
#You Got Nothing To Saaaaaaaaaaaay#
#'Til I Tell You Who's Whoooooooooooooo#
#You Know Why?#
Bonnie Jenkins: Standing at SIX FOOT ONE, AND WEIGHING IN AT TWO HUNDRED AND TWELVE POUNDS- he come to us from BELGRADE, SERBIA – THE XHF DEVIL, DER KOMMISSAR, THE XHF JUNIOR HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION... THAT FINAL BOSS,
ZORAAAAAAAAAAAN SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAINOVIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The flash of a blade draws attention to the entrance curtains, just as a scythe cuts them down. Stepping out into GUNS arena, the XHF JHC champion surveys the crowd, before locking eyes on his former “friend.” Red and orange pyro cast the middle age European in a light that is reminiscent of hell.
#Cos I'm The Big Bad Wolf#
#(What You Say)#
#I'm The Big Bad Wolf#
#(What You Say)#
#I'm The Big Bad Wolf#
Rather than carry his championship belt with him, The Final Boss has had a custom-made lapel pin to represent his XHF Thin Overlord status. Making his way down the aisle – the usually in your face audience is too terrified to get near the guardrails.
#And I'm Blowing Down Your Neighbourhood#
Stepping into the ring, eyes fixed on Copycat, as the Final Boss centers himself, a second volley of pyro is set off.
#I SAID#
#AAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO#
The music fades and the house lights rise, leaving only the dagger gaze of The XHF Devil on the man who beat him at Overheated.
Hawke: I just feel nauseous waiting for this-
Randy: I’m calling it now, feel bad match of the year. And we saw a basic goat steal candy from an 18-month Wombat child earlier.
GRUDGE MATCH
ZORAN SAINOVIC vs. COPYCAT
DING! DING! DING!
The bell rings and Copycat and Zoran circle around the ring. Zoran circles slowly and confidently, not even bothering to lower his center of gravity. Conversely, Copycat is almost at a cartoonishly full squat as he tries to protect himself. Eventually, Copycat and Zoran lunge forward for a lockup, but Zoran steps back and pulls out his leg. This causes Copycat to trip over Zoran’s leg and fall face down with his face smashing against the ring canvas. The fans react loudly to a thunderous amount of applause. Despite their disdain for Zoran, they find that Copycat’s humiliation tops out in what gets their reaction.
Randy: This is EMBARRASSING for Copycat! We’re not twenty seconds into the match, and Zoran is making Copycat look like a FOOL! …Just, also keep Zoran away from me, will ya?
Hawke: What else would you expect? And are you really feeling bad for Copycat? Let’s not forget that Copycat chose, on his own accord, to walk into this ring. He deserves everything that he’s going to get tonight.
Copycat lifts his face off the mat and turns to Zoran, whose face turns to reflect the slightest bit of amusement. Copycat gets up again and, wanting to compensate for the embarrassing moment, charges forth again. This time, Zoran holds his hand against Copycat’s forehead. Copycat tries to punch and slap and strike frantically with his hands, but because Zoran has longer arms, Copycat finds himself unable to land a single blow. Copycat goes strong and endures for about fifteen or twenty seconds before Zoran starts to get bored from these feeble attempts. That’s when he sidesteps, pulls his arm away and shoots his leg forward - again causing Copycat to trip and land back on the mat.
Randy: Again!? Zoran tripped Copycat AGAIN!? I can’t believe this!
Hawke: There’s a lot that you can’t believe, Randy. How people can go a day without drinking, how some people find a mimosa is just an excuse to get drunk at breakfast time, and how you can’t believe that stick of margarine is not butter, but a multi-time X*Crown Champion beating out… Copycat in a contest of skill, of all reasons? You should be able to believe that easily.
Copycat jumps up to his feet and yells at the top of his lungs. “STOP TRIPPING ME!” Zoran takes a step forward and holds his arms out wide. He’s basically asking to get punched! He’s giving Copycat a free blow! But much like the past showed, Zoran doesn’t give anything for free. Copycat pauses. He actually hesitates. The crowd quiets down for a moment before Copycat takes the bait! He goes for a strike, but Zoran catches his hand! Zoran catches Copycat by the wrist, which elicits an “Oooh!” from the crowd. Copycat’s eyes go wide! While his head stays still, his eyes circle around the room. He shoots forward with his other arm, but Zoran catches that hand with his other hand too! Zoran then makes the slight adjustment necessary and slams Copycat down with a double-arm DDT! Copycat goes down! Zoran goes for the pin:
…One!
…Two!
…Thr-
Zoran voluntarily lets go of the pin! He takes his body off, prompting a loud reaction from the crowd.
Randy: Zoran, just end this match! You’ve already proved that you’ve won this match!
Hawke: He’s not going to do it. He doesn’t just want a win. That’s too easy. He wants more. I’m not sure if he just wants to teach Copycat a lesson or if he wants to torture him, but he won’t just stop here!
After what would have probably been a six count if Zoran didn’t intentionally end the count, Copycat rolls over to his stomach and starts to rise off the ground. However, Zoran doesn’t give him any moment of reprieve. Zoran grabs Copycat by the back of his neck and slams his face into the nearby corner. Copycat screams out in pain before he pulls his face back. Copycat braces himself, in case Zoran decides to slam his face back to the corner. He was right. Zoran did it - and doubly hard this time. Copycat screams even louder. Zoran pulls his face back and this time, he whispers into his ear, “You have no one to blame but yourself” before slamming his face to the turnbuckle for the THIRD time! This time, Copycat emits a high-pitched shriek. When Zoran pulls his face back, he finds Copycat’s mouth area to be all red.
Randy: Zoran just drew blood from Copycat! His nose might be broken! AHHH!
Hawke: Zoran’s not just dominating this match. He’s cold and ruthless! He doesn’t just want to win. He wants you to feel personally responsible for ever having the gall to even challenge him in the first place. If that’s his goal, Zoran passed with flying colors.
Zoran looks back and starts smiling. The smile turns to laughter and Zoran grabs Copycat’s nose and starts trying to milk the blood out of his nose! He then starts wiping the blood from his nose everywhere on his face! Copycat groans in pain and discomfort. Zoran basks in the moment before going for a fourth smash, but Copycat manages to shoot back with his elbow! This knocks Zoran in the chest. Not enough to send him to the ground, but certainly enough to cause him to lose his grip on the underdog and enough so that Copycat can escape out of the corner and give him some distance so that he can recover.
Randy: Copycat got out, and surprised Zoran! Are the tables about to turn?
Hawke: You have got to be kidding me. He got lucky, and all he did was give himself some breathing room. If I were him, I’d throw in the towel and get a new job in an industry I might succeed in - like a circus.
Copycat gave himself some time to recover, but he chose not to take it. He quickly mounted a counter-offense to Zoran, throwing a forearm at him. And a second! And a thir-No! Zoran hip-checks him and shoots his knee forward, which sends him in the air before Copycat falls to the floor. The bloodied Copycat tries to lift himself off the canvas, but Zoran stops it with a STIFF kick to the gut! Copycat yelps like the wounded animal that he is. Some members of the audience recoil from the high-pitched cry of pain from Copycat. After a moment or two, Copycat rolls over back to his stomach, but as he adjusts, he sees Zoran’s boot in front of his face. He looks up to Zoran, who smiles. “Kiss it,” he says. Copycat looks up to him with a great degree of hesitancy. “Kiss it, and I’ll make this easy for you.”
Randy: Zoran, what are you even asking!?
Hawke: I’m also confused. Surely, he doesn’t want Copycat to…
Copycat looks left. He looks right. The audience cannot even understand how someone could consider asking another to do something so inhumane and degrading. Yet, Copycat puckers his lips. He moves his face forward to comply with this request. AND WITH A PUNT, ZORAN KICKS COPYCAT IN THE FACE AS IF HE WAS GOING FOR A FIELD GOAL! Copycat gets kicked off the ground and onto his back! More than that, a TOOTH flies out of his mouth! Gasps are heard throughout the arena. Zoran looks down at Copycat with a sick sense of pity as he mutters, “‘Zere, Copycat. Now it’z all over.” Copycat’s eyes look dead as Zoran goes over him for the pin count.
Randy: This was not cool, bro! Not cool!
Hawke: Zoran, he was going to give you what you wanted and THIS is how you help him!?
Randy: Huh?
Hawke: Zoran told Copycat that he’d make things easy for him if he kissed his boot, but what he meant was that he would CRIPPLE him so that it would be impossible for him to kick out!
The referee hesitantly begins the count - his dedication to his career being the only thing keeping him from walking out of the ring in disgust:
…One!
…Two!
…Thre-KICKOUT!
Randy: Copycat actually kicked out!?
Hawke: Of all the STUPID things you have ever done in your life, this has GOT TO top the list!
Zoran gets up with a blank stare on his face. He didn’t end the count. This was supposed to be it, but Copycat disobeyed him, and Zoran intended on making him pay. He manhandles Copycat to bring him to his feet. Zoran Irish whips him to the corner before quickly following back with a shoulder! Copycat tries to get back up but by the time he’s been able to do that, Zoran already circled back to the center and brought him down with a second shoulder! Copycat tries to get back up until he hears those in the crowd. A chant is beginning to form. “STAY DOWN COPYCAT. CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP.” He stops the momentum and doesn’t advance upward. Zoran cocks a smirk and crosses his arms, practically already claiming victory. Copycat’s eyes widen for a moment. Then his eyebrows angle and his brow grows full. He starts to get back to his feet. Zoran uncrosses his arms and slowly shakes his head. He goes for another shoulder! Copycat jumps out of the way, leaving Zoran to smack HARD into the metal near the turnbuckle! He pulls himself off and turns around to make Copycat pray, but he has no time to do anything as Copycat grabs his head between his legs and takes him down with a flying headscissors! The crowd pops big time for Copycat! He goes to Zoran for the pin. The referee’s enthusiasm to make the count is demonstrated here.
…One!
Kickout!
Randy: We shouldn’t get surprised over Zoran kicking out only at one, but can we just acknowledge that Copycat just surprised Zoran!? He actually took him down!
Hawke: I’m actually on board with this. Think about it. All it takes is one strike from someone that’s just seen as the worst in the business. It can lead to imposter syndrome. All it takes is one pivotal moment for the flow of the match to change. Now don’t get me wrong, it would take a miracle in a half to win here, but things have just gotten… interesting.
When Zoran kicked out, he did so with an OOMPH of power. Enough to blast Copycat off his body. When Copycat tried to get up, Zoran didn’t get him. He grabbed him while both were on the ground, and he wrapped his arm around Copycat’s neck, right on the carotid artery. Zoran began to squeeze. This isn’t just an uncomfortable moment. This was a GUILLOTINE submission, and just like the name suggests, Zoran wants to end a life here. Yes, it’s an actual variation of Zoran’s main finisher guillotine choke - The Conditionizer! As expected, it didn’t take long before the color on Copycat went from pink to red heading toward a shade of purple. Copycat frantically shook about, much like a fish out of water or a flame before it became extinguished. Copycat started to look like he was going unconscious. He stopped moving, and then the referee told Zoran to let go! Finally! Zoran got up to celebrate this KO win until the referee elaborated. He points to Copycat’s leg, which hooked the bottom rope. Zoran’s eye twitched. This joke of a match stopped being entertaining long ago. He is no longer pleased.
Randy: Lucky break, Copycat! I swear, this guy is the luckiest unlucky guy ever!
Hawke: Or as I’d like to call it, the oxymoron of the moron. From what I’m seeing over here, Zoran’s about to pick up the pace. This match has been going on for almost twenty minutes and every additional minute that Copycat remains in this match is another slap to the face of Zoran’s reputation.
Zoran calmly gets up, the same way that a horde of black clouds doesn't rain. He brings Copycat up. Not all the way, just to his feet. But it’s enough to swing his arm around and trap him for a shoulder lock. Copycat can’t escape. He can’t swing out of the way or pull his arm out. And if he wasn’t strong enough to power his way out, he sure as hell isn’t strong enough now with the snot beaten out of him and several teeth missing. Copycat isn’t sure what was going to happen, because Zoran isn’t applying the shoulder lock with enough pressure to move for the submission. No, the move is held to lock him in place instead. Copycat’s chattering his teeth and he’s right to fear because, within just a moment, Zoran grabs Copycat’s pinkie and starts to bend it… The wrong way. Copycat grits and groans - that is until a loud POP is heard and he starts shrieking.
Randy: TELL ME THIS ISN’T HAPPENING! TELL ME THIS JUST IS NOT HAPPENING!
Hawke: Folks, for those of you at home with children, this is the first time I will tell you to CHANGE THE CHANNEL. Zoran is actually dislocating Copycat’s fingers.
Randy: That’s PLURAL! He’s moving on to the second finger!
Copycat is shrieking in a tone higher than he’s ever shrieked before. Zoran turns his head to look at Copycat. He’s yelling at him. “TELL HIM YOU GIVE UP!” Copycat immediately starts shrieking louder but Zoran matches Copycat’s volume so if Copycat actually did verbalize his forfeit, the referee couldn’t tell. As for tapping out, well... You know what’s happening to his hand. Zoran’s on his third finger on Copycat’s hand, his middle finger. But he’s forced to let go as he finds an old biker rushing to the ring. He tries to knock Zoran down, but with a trip and pulling down the top rope, the biker falls up and over!
Randy: That’s our old XHF Champion, Reeshi! He came to help Copycat!
Hawke: …Randy, you’ve got to be kidding me! THAT’S NOT THE REAL REESHI!
Randy: …Seriously? How can you tell them apart?
Hawke: …
Zoran gets up and turns around to face Copycat, but he doesn’t see Copycat. He, at least expected to see Terry Bradshaw, but he wasn’t there either. No, instead, he sees the Xtreme Tron, which is focusing near the ceiling of the arena, where Tommy from Ring Crew is adjusting a projector to shine an image directly on Zoran’s face. Zoran shields himself from the bright light until he can adjust. Randy Angel squints as he struggles to see the image that’s being shined onto Zoran’s face. While all this happens, Tommy from Ring Crew grabs a controller for something.
Randy: What does this say… It says… VFW? And now Tommy is grabbing a controller? What does all this mean?
Hawke: Oh no. He’s not going to…
Randy: Joey, what does this mean-
Hawke: OH NO!
As Zoran acclimates to the bright light, he finds THIS flying at him.
Zoran leaps out of the way of this large remote-controlled helicopter. As he adjusts, he finds the bell rings.
Bonnie Jenkins: As a result of several people… and things… targeting one of the competitors, the winner of this match is ZORAN SAINO-
Zoran shuts her up by punching the referee standing just next to her with a swift punch to the face, instantly knocking him out. Not only that, but he stares at her while doing it, insinuating that if she goes through with finishing that sentence, the next person that would be assaulted would be her. Everyone gasps, including the announcers.
Randy: Zoran’s trying to hold this match hostage, and all just to DENY himself a victory right now!
Hawke: No! We are NOT doing this! I’m getting a second referee right now!
Joey Hawke grabs a cell phone and dials a number. Security rushes the ring and circles around Bonnie Jenkins, giving her some security. She composes herself and grabs the microphone.
Bonnie Jenkins: Due to the number of transgressions by… both competitors, this match will end and will be declared a NO CONTES-
Copycat: WAIT!
Copycat’s voice screams out loud, but he can’t be found. That’s up until his deformed and disfigured hand slaps the edge of the ring before forcing himself back into the ring. In literal tears, his voice shakes as he tries to get himself into the center of the ring where Bonnie can see him.
Copycat: This match will NOT end like this! I have too much to prove! I can't allow this match to end without a clear winner so do not end it under ANY circumstance unless one of us is pinned or taps out. Let’s restart this match… as a NO HOLDS BARRED MATCH!
The crowd goes silent for a moment. A completely silent arena where a pin drop could be hard, before suddenly roaring to exciting new heights. Bonnie looks left. She looks right. She then turns over to Zoran, who raises an eyebrow out of sheer curiosity.
Bonnie Jenkins: This can’t be approved. Not without Zoran agreeing. Now I have to ask…. Zoran, do you agree to Copycat’s terms? Will this match restart as a No Holds Barred match?
The relatively emotionless face that Zoran’s face begins to change. The straight line across his mouth bends to a sick, sadistic smile. He doesn’t say a single word. Instead, he slides out of the ring and heads to the announcer’s desk. Randy instantly runs away and hides. Zoran uses the chance to grab the chair he was sitting on and slides it into the ring. As he gets in, he slams it HARD against the canvas.
Bonnie Jenkins: I’m going to take this as a yes. Ladies and gentlemen, this match will restart and it will restart as a NO HOLDS BARRED! Timekeeper, RING THAT BELL!
The bell rings, signalling the restart of the match. A new referee slides in and takes position.
Hawke: COPYCAT, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?! Just take the loss! Just take the no contest! It’s the closest you’d ever come to a win anyways! Even if you lost, you’d still win at GETTING TO LIVE! You have OFFICIALLY gone from stupid to SUICIDAL!
Randy: Awww, man. Zoran stole my seat. Can I sit on your lap?
Hawke: NO!
Zoran goes up to Bonnie. The security guards block his path, but he’s quick enough to reach her for what he’s trying to do. Luckily, it’s just to steal the microphone from her. As he gets back to Copycat, he finds him trying to get to his feet. Zoran stops that with a running knee, much in the style of Shinsuke Nakamura’s Boma Ye. The camera flies out of Zoran’s hand during this move and lands right next to Copycat’s mouth, which happens to perfectly capture the sound of oxygen wheezing out of his mouth. Zoran follows a few seconds later and puts his mouth to the microphone, only inches from Copycat’s face.
Zoran Sainovic: Ze XHF has ‘ze best lawyers, so when you say No Holds, I’m taking you at your word. Now, I want you to tell me.
Copycat’s voice shakes as he manages to let out these few words.
Copycat: …Tell you what?
Zoran Sainovic: Your last few words, Copycat. Zis is ‘ze last match of zis show… and your life. What do you want your last words to be? Take your time.
Randy: This can NOT be happening. I can’t watch this! I have to leave!
Hawke: God dang it, Randy. You have a JOB to do! Show some backbone!
But Randy runs off, leaving Joey Hawk by himself. Back in the ring, Copycat pauses for a moment. He considers his words carefully but is still weak. He tries to speak, but when he tries to speak, he coughs instead. Blood shoots out of his mouth and onto both the microphone and the face of Zoran. He uses the back of his hand to wipe the blood off, but streaks still remain. Zoran slowly nods his head as Copycat struggles to try to still speak his last few words.
Zoran Sainovic: Not ‘ze particular words I would have chosen myself, but ‘zis is your life. And remember, ‘zis was your choice. Now for your noose.
Zoran Sainovic pulls away from Copycat and grabs the chair. He slowly fits the chair around Copycat’s neck. Copycat tries to squirm his way out, but Zoran immediately stops that with a kick to the chair. Copycat neck cracks as he spits even more blood out of his mouth. He finds himself unable to move. Zoran smiles. He’s satisfied with how immobilized he is. He slowly climbs up to the top rope. The crowd has never been on Copycat’s side before but now they’re chanting. “ZORAN, DON’T DO IT! ZORAN, DON’T DO IT! ZORAN, DON’T DO IT!” …But he does. TOP ROPE DOUBLE FOOT STOMP! IN THE STYLE OF FINN BALOR’S COUP DE GRACE! ONTO COPYCAT’S HEAD!
…Terry Bradshaw jumps out of nowhere! To the apron! Then to the top rope! Then springboards off to a SPEAR! Bradshaw was a quarterback, but he really hit Zoran hard! And hard enough to both land away from Copycat! Terry Bradshaw gets up, runs his hair through the afro wig he’s been wearing, and takes the chair off and away from Copycat, and drags him onto Zoran. The new referee slides in and counts:
…One!
…Two!
KICKOUT!
Hawke: What the hell!? Terry Bradshaw just came in and saved Copycat’s life!
Randy: I can’t believe it! The first time Terry Bradshaw showed his face for MONTHS and he’s grown an afro!
Hawke: What!? He’s been here, pretending to be Copycat in CARt! This is obviously a fake afr- Wait. You’re here? And… Where did you get that chair?
Randy: Oh, I just stole it from the Spanish announcer over there.
Jose Kenyusi: ¡Alguien robó mi silla! Me quejaría, pero primero tengo que esperar hasta que Zoran le dé una paliza a este niño plagado de enfermedades.
It’s probably due to the weight of a small vehicle slamming into Zoran more than any true skill, but Zoran actually takes a moment in getting up from the mat. Terry Bradshaw stomps on the back of Zoran’s head, similar to how he wanted to hit (the real) Copycat, and forces him back down. He yells at him, “That’s what you get, you cuck!” Zoran goes back down. Terry Bradshaw has Zoran’s face between his legs and just like in The People’s Elbow, pulls off some elbow pads he had on him, which is weird because that doesn’t mesh well with full suit, and throws it into the crowds. He swings his arms and hits the ropes. As he goes to hop over Zoran to hit the opposite ropes, Zoran uses his flexible body to lift his legs and kick Bradshaw RIGHT in the family jewels! Bradshaw goes down!
Randy: Bradshaw goes down! He goes down! Now no one can protect Copycat!
Hawke: As much as I hate what Zoran has been doing, Terry Bradshaw is really making a mockery of this match, this show, and this sport. At least Copycat makes an earnest effort. At this point, I’m just hoping, nearly BEGGING, for a real end here.
Zoran has no time for someone like Terry Bradshaw. The former NFL Hall of Famer isn’t why he’s here. Without any regard for him, Zoran picks him up and chucks him out of the ring. He looks down and finds Terry Bradshaw not moving. Good. This match has been too much for what Zoran expected when he signed up for this match. He wipes the sweat off his brow. He turns around and out comes Copycat, out of nowhere! With what very well may be a good portion of the reserves of his energy, he captures his legs around Zoran’s head and has him in a tilt-a-whirl headscissors position. He swings him around, trying to knock Zoran out of the ring! Zoran fights it, using his strength to combat Copycat’s momentum! Copycat uses an arm to grab onto the rope. He pulls it down and anchors down to try to throw him and force him to collide with what very well may be the XHF Network’s most infamous character. Zoran struggles. Copycat grits and bears too. He tries to pull hard, but his strength fades. He lets go of the ropes. However, as fortune has it, this causes the trajectory to spin in a completely different direction. Copycat hits the headscissors… and slams Zoran down onto the chair that Der Kommissar himself tried to bring to the ring! Zoran is splayed out on the ring canvas. Copycat lands right on top of him! The referee is on the ball and he goes for the pin count:
…One!
…Two!
…THREE!
NO! KICKOUT! ZORAN KICKED OUT!
Hawke: HE KICKED OUT!? NO! THAT WAS A THREE-COUNT! I COULD HAVE SWORN IT!
Randy: If Copycat can’t save us, who can!? I think that’s all he had!
Hawke: You may be right there, Randy. Copycat’s not that smart to calculate that landing, and I saw him lose the energy to hold onto those ropes. He may be doomed.
Pause.
Hawke: …WHAT ARE YOU DOING, RANDY?
Randy: Sitting on your lap.
Hawke: WHERE’S YOUR CHAIR!?
Randy: Jose took it away from him.
Jose Kenyusi: No me pagan lo suficiente por tal falta de respeto…
Copycat’s not moving. Zoran’s not moving. It remains this way for perhaps the longest fifteen seconds in XHF Network history. But Zoran starts to stir and eventually flips onto his stomach. Then to his hands and knees. He starts to use the ropes for leverage until he gets to his feet. Zoran’s on his feet while Copycat… is still not moving. Zoran moves over to the now-dented chair and picks it up. He props it up against the turnbuckle corner. He then goes up to Copycat and picks him up by the shoulders before driving him to the corner! Into the chair! The force used and the damage sustained to Copycat is now evident by how bent the chair is. It doesn’t even look usable anymore. Copycat’s now bleeding from the top of his head. A concussion is no longer a possibility as much as it’s a certainty. It’s also without a doubt the least of his problems. Zoran brings him to the center of the ring and goes in for the cover. Copycat isn’t moving anymore. He may not even be breathing.
…One!
…Two!
…THREE-KICKOUT!
Hawke: I’m too tired to be excited anymore. This match has gone on for nearly forty-five minutes, and the amount of times that my expectations have been thrown out of the window is too much.
Randy: Man, just LOOK at Copycat. He’s COVERED in blood! This man doesn’t even know who or where he is. He looks like he already died and the grim reaper is too afraid to tell him, because Zoran’s in the ring too!
Hawke: And speaking of Zoran, you can tell that this match has also taken a toll on him. He’s been dealing with one bamboozle after another from Larry, Moe, and Curly, and even though he doesn’t want to admit it, Copycat’s been slowing him down too. I’m just afraid…
Randy: I am too.
Hawke: No, I mean that I’m afraid… that he’s going to get desperate. Violently desperate.
Randy: *Gulp*
Zoran grits in pain as he starts to get up once again. He tries to hide it from his movements, not wanting to make it known that this match has taken a toll on him, but his wincing and reluctance to expend unneeded energy tell a different story. He looks down at Copycat and huffs. He brings Copycat to his feet and gets into position. The crowd knows what’s coming. He motions for it. He gestures. Could it be? His patented Reverse STO Facebuster that he calls THE REVOLVER! …but wait, Copycat gets his leg to stop the momentum. He’s also grabbing Zoran’s pants. He’s reversing it for a small package pin! But wait! Zoran sees this coming too! He lets go of the base and adjusts his hands to the back of Copycat’s knees and brings this down to a double-leg takedown! Copycat goes down and Zoran has him in the mount position! Zoran doesn’t waste time to start laying down rights and lefts. His fire is quite transparent with its intensity.
Randy: What a nice try by Copycat! Zoran was going to go for a signature move of his, but Copycat could have just gotten the win by this sneaky pin! It didn’t work out, but this has got to be a better position, right?
Hawke: Uhhh… Oh no. Oh no, I don’t think so. I think this is going to be WAY worse.
Randy: …Hu-
Hawke: JUST LOOK!
The time between Zoran’s punches gets shorter and shorter. Copycat can’t even block anymore. It takes too much energy to raise his arms. Zoran’s yelling too. He’s not saying anything. He’s just venting the fury from within his heart. He’s punching until he’s doing something worse. Much worse. So bad that Copycat would pray and beg for more unanswered punches. Zoran begins shoving both of his thumbs into Copycat’s open EYE. Copycat begins screaming. As loud as he can. He begins shrieking. Droves of people actually begin to leave the arena because they realized at some point, this stopped being a wrestling match and started being an active torture scene so bad that it puts Guantanamo Bay to shame. Copycat’s entire soul is on fire as he actually forgets how to give up to do the pain and just prays for death. Then, the jelly-like consistency that makes up the human eye and an immense amount of blood SPURTS out, coating the ring and further staining Zoran’s body from his chest northward. There’s a mixture of screams and high-pitched shrieks from the entire crowd. Then silence. Joey and Randy’s mouths are agape. Randy’s breath shakes.
Randy: I… Wh… …
Hawke: I… Ladies and gentlemen, I am speechless. For those of you who hadn’t… or couldn’t see this, Zoran just… rendered Copycat’s right eye completely useless. Moms… Dads… We remind you to exercise parental discretion. If your children are still watching this, step in. I wish we could stop this match.
Zoran gets up. Copycat’s not moving anymore. His left eye is closed and his right eye… is bleeding so hard that it looks like a wet, crimson-red abyss. Zoran’s face is back to a straight line. There’s no smiling. No anger. Just an expressionless face that would typically belong to a human. Zoran brings Copycat to his feet. It looks like he has more wrestling to do. He tries to let him go, but it’s clear that Copycat’s not conscious and couldn’t stop a lack of solid base to keep him from falling over. Zoran catches him and readjusts him more until he’s able to support his own body weight. Copycat’s standing in the middle of the ring. Zoran speaks quietly, in a tone much lower than his typical speaking voice. “‘Zis is ze end, Copycat.” Zoran closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and gets to work. He grabs Copycat and puts him in position for his signature move.
Randy: NO, ZORAN! NO! YOU’VE ALREADY BEATEN COPYCAT! YOU’VE ALREADY KILLED HI- Wait, he’s not dead, is he? …IS HE!?
Hawke: I don’t - I DON’T KNOW! He has Copycat in prime position for his finisher move, this high-angled spiked gutwrench suplex. He calls it The Pain. But I don’t even know if Copycat is alive to feel the pain. This match should be stopped. I never thought I’d say this, but-
Randy: Oh no. Here it comes!
Zoran lifts Copycat in the air. They both go down! Just not the way Zoran intended. The blood is so much that it causes Zoran to trip! Zoran’s splayed out in the ring and his arms are hanging outside of the ring. Because Zoran couldn’t throw Copycat as far as he wanted, his right arm is on top of him. It technically counts as a pin. The referee goes for the pin count:
…One!
KICKOUT!
…Wait, Zoran can’t kick out. Terry Bradshaw reaches up to grab Zoran’s arms that are sticking out of the ring and holds them down!
…Two!
Zoran’s eyes are wide open. He’s using as much energy as possible to get his shoulders up. He's about to get one arm free but then Reeshi comes out of nowhere and grabs the arm Zoran was able to free! Zoran is now fighting both gravity and the weight of two obese and elderly men! Zoran is now starting to think smart, not hard. He uses the slippery attributes of the blood to his advantage. …AND HE KICKS OUT!
But not before the referee counts to three! The bell rings! The fans aren’t cheering. They aren’t excited. They’re… unsure how to feel, with relief possibly being the closest adjective they could use to properly describe the mood. Bonnie Jenkins hesitates before standing up with another microphone.
Bonnie Jenkins: …The match is now over. And your winner, at fifty-five… hellish minutes, by pinfall - Copycat.
Randy: THE MATCH IS OVER! MEDICS, GET YOUR ASSES IN THERE - NOW!
Hawke: I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know what I saw, but this wasn’t wrestling. This was a horror film. This was hell on Earth. I can’t, in good conscience, say Copycat deserves this win but I don’t feel good about who I am right now so I don’t have a good conscience. So yeah, Copycat deserved this win.
The medics waste absolutely no time in getting into the ring with a stretcher. Zoran’s now free. He looks down at Copycat. Unsure of if he’s still alive but knowing that he’s unable to answer, he reaches forward to him. Everyone fears the worst, with the medical personnel even backing up to protect themselves. . …Much to everyone’s surprise. Zoran reaches forward toward Copycat. He shakes his limp hand and offers a solemn downward nod of respect before standing up and walking out of the ring. The medics immediately resume lifesaving measures, hastily rushing him out of the ring and towards the back, where he’s presumed to be brought to an ER. The camera pans back to the announcer team.
Randy: Zoran has a… very unique sense of chivalry.
Hawke: Somehow, I understand it. Zoran gave him everything he had. He put the fear of god in him, but he never gave up. Even when the match ended, Copycat forced the match to continue. He never tapped out. He never ran away. Copycat decided to die an idiot. A brave idiot. This is the language Zoran understands.
Randy: I’m not going to sleep tonight.
Hawke: I know where you’re getting at. I’m on it. Folks, for… whoever’s still watching and with us here tonight, we thank you for attending this year’s WRESTLE-A-THON!
Randy: Wait – what about the telethon, how much did they raise!
Hawke: They made it!
Randy: Really? How?
Hawke: No idea, I’d throw it back to Sylvia, but we are OUT OF TIME. Everyone thought that match would last a minute! Thanks again fans for all your support, I can’t guarantee you we’ll have one for 2024, but you’re all troopers for making it here. Have a good night!
The cameras fade to black where the XHF Network logo shines brightly.