The House Show! - taped 11/17/18

[Steele]

Static flickers across the screen and then:


Karen: AAAAAAAAGHHHHHH! FUUUUUCK!


The picture jumps and wobbles and finally settles on an up-close image of a woman's hairy vagina.


Trevor: Keep going honey! You got this!


Suddenly, the vagina begins stretching open and something starts to emerge.


Karen: RAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHH







More static, and this time when the screen stops flickering we see a scruffy back yard with the shittiest, most make-shift wrestling ring set up in the middle of it. The ring surface is barely even a foot off the ground, clearly constructed from a pair of mattresses and some plywood with a sheet stretched and stapled over it.


Skeeter: I can't believe you're still using VHS tapes, man.

Trevor: It's a good camera, I don't need none of that fancy-ass digital shit.

Skeeter: What's even on this video anyway?

Trevor: I dunno, nothing important.


The two continue to bicker off-camera as Skeeter manually focuses the lens. Then the camera is picked up and spun round to show a piece of paper taped to a wall.





Something clicks, and a song is heard. It's really bad quality, obviously played through a battery-operated CD player.





Skeeter puts the camera on a tripod and points it at the commentary desk before running behind it and sitting down next to Trevor.





Trevor: Welcome to THE HOUSE SHOW!

Skeeter: Wooo!

Trevor: OK, what do we do now?

Skeeter: What do you mean?

Trevor: Well what next? We can't just talk, this is a wrestling show!

Skeeter: Shit well who's here?

Trevor: Just us, man.

Skeeter: Nobody else is here?

Trevor: I sent everyone a text!

Skeeter: Well shouldn't we just wait?

Trevor: We're live aren't we?

Skeeter: Live? Shit Trevor, we're recording to VHS. We like 30 years behind right now.

Trevor: Doesn't matter. We got a show to put on! You'll have to wrestle.

Skeeter: Wrestle who?

Trevor: Just fuckin' pretend, man. Jesus.

Skeeter: Pretend? Why don't we wrestle each other?

Trevor: I ain't warmed up yet, and besides - I gotta do commentary. Come on man, I'll put the title on the line.


Trevor reaches under the table and pulls a toy WWF Hardcore title out.


Skeeter: The title? Shit son! Guess I better go in the ring then!

Trevor: Hang on a sec, let me just draw up a quick match graphic.


Trevor scribbles and tapes then slaps this up on the wall:





Skeeter: You gonna play my music or what?

Trevor: Huh? Oh shit, sorry.


Trevor presses buttons on the CD player and hits Skeeter's music.





Skeeter: Alright! Yeah! Woo! From Christmas, Florida, weighing 215 pounds - It's Syco Skeeter!


Skeeter turns the sole camera around on the tripod on his way to the ring.


Trevor: Syco Skeeter coming to the ring now, he's hotly tipped to be the first-ever BYOB Super Hardcore Champion as he takes on Nobody at all! He climbs through the ropes and plays to the fans! There are no fans! But if there were, he'd be playing to them!


Skeeter jumps about in the "ring" and shadow boxes.


Trevor: Wait have you started?

Skeeter: Naw I'm just warming up, you ain't rung the bell yet!

Trevor: Shit, we don't have a bell. Uh... Ding ding! Fight!


Skeeter goes into a "grapple" stance and crab walks around, then mimes slamming somebody.


Trevor: Nice scoop slam by Skeeter, now he runs off the ropes and hits an elbow drop! Looks like he's going for the pin early!


Skeeter drops to his belly then looks at Trevor.


Skeeter: We ain't got no ref!

Trevor: Crap, I'll have to do that as well! One! Two!

Skeeter: Shit he kicked out!

Trevor: What do you mean he kicked out? You ain't wrestling Nobody!

Skeeter: Yeah but this is a title match, I can't just make it a squash!


Skeeter starts miming again, throwing punches and Irish whips and then clotheslines his "opponent" down.


Trevor: Hey Skeeter you said you don't wanna squash match, well you ain't selling shit!

Skeeter: Oh you're right! Hold on let me just pick him- OW! He poked me in the goddamn eye!

Trevor: That's legal! Nobody takes the fight to skeeter, knocks him down with something or other... Skeeter back to his feet now and goes for the drop kick - misses, I presume - Nobody has him by the scruff of the neck and throws him clean over the top rope!


Skeeter lands on his back with a loud crack.


Trevor: Don't forget it's falls count anywhere, he's pinning you! One! Two! Skeeter kicks out! Nearly had him there!

Skeeter: You can't make me lose to Nobody!

Trevor: You gotta not get pinned by Nobody then, ya jackass! And don't forget you can use fuckin weapons too!


Skeeter picks up a random branch cutting from the ground and starts swiping it around. He pretends to beat the crap out of "Nobody" as he cowers on the floor then throws the stick away.


Trevor: Skeeter totally dominating Nobody right now and he can smell victory! Picks his opponent up... Psychobilly Freakout! But he's not finished after that Twist Of Fate of his, he wants to go up top!

Skeeter: I do? Can't I just pin him?

Trevor: This is fuckin' hardcore! Death-defying! Hit your finisher!

Skeeter: But it's a Swan Ton Bomb off the roof! I ain't built up to that yet!

Trevor: Then fuck it, do it off the treehouse!

Skeeter: Oh... Alright then...

Trevor: Skeeter looking to put away his opponent now as he starts to climb the rungs of the treehouse ladder! God only knows what sick and twisted - OH SHIT!


Skeeter slips on his way up the treehouse and pulls one of the wooden boards off. He falls a good twelve feet onto the solid ground below, with one of the boards landing on top of him.


Trevor: Shit, Skeeter can you hear me? Skeeter? Fuck, where's the Good Doctor when you need him?


Skeeter is knocked the fuck out.


Trevor: Come on man, you've got a match to finish! This belt's waiting for you!


Skeeter is still knocked the fuck out.


Trevor: Alright, I'm calling it... One! Two! Three! Ring the- ah, we still don't have a bell. The winner of the match and the new Super Hardcore Champion is... That fuckin' plank of wood. Jesus. This fed's going to the dogs already.


Trevor gets up from behind the desk and picks up the plank of wood, taking it back to the table. He turns the camera around and sits back down.





Trevor: So I'm here with the new Super Hardcore Champion, Plank. After such a gruelling match, Plank, how does it feel to be able to walk out of here tonight with the title strapped round your, uh, head I guess?

Plank: ...

Trevor: I see. Now Skeeter was the odds-on favorite to win tonight, in fact you weren't even in the match but you got yourself involved in the finish and thanks to some creative booking and an executive decision you find yourself on top of the company. How do you plan to keep hold of the title in the weeks to come?

Plank: ...

Trevor: Well that's easier said than done.

Pixie Styx: Uncle Trevor, what the fuck are you doing?


Trevor looks round to see his niece and nephew, Pixie Styx and .::Pussyslayer69::. Walking out through the back door.


.::Pussyslayer69::.: Yo what happened to Skeeter?

Trevor: He fell out of the treehouse.

.::Pussyslayer69::.: Is he dead?

Trevor: I don't think so.

Pixie Styx: Why is there a title belt hanging off of that plank of wood?

Trevor: This plank of wood just beat Skeeter for the Super Hardcore Title.

.::Pussyslayer69::.: Seriously? He lost to a plank? Ahahahahahaha, pwned!

Trevor: Well he was wrestling Nobody actually, the plank just interfered.

Pixie Styx: Wow...

.::Pussyslayer69::.: Well if that plank is the champion then I want a title shot!

Pixie Styx: No way! If anybody gets a shot then it's gonna be me!

Mack Daddy: Yo what up my n-words? Sheeeiiiit what happened to him?


Mack Daddy, dressed in his finest pimpery, comes through the curtain and spots Skeeter laying on the ground.


Trevor: So now everybody is gonna start showing up, just after a fucking piece of wood wins the title.

Mack Daddy: He lost to a plank of wood? Haha, what a fuckin dick. Anyways, I got the sound system in the car! I'll go bring it through.

Trevor: Alright, let's take a time out and get everything set up. Someone help me shut this damn thing off.








We come back to the rip-roaring BYOB action as the roster assemble in Trevor's living room.

One more wrestler has arrived now - Freight Train sits on the sofa taking up two spots by himself. Slayer sits in the third spot glued to some game on his phone.

Pixie is holding the camcorder, kindly provided by Freight Train. Much like Trevor's camera, it's an old-school VHS one.


Trevor: Alright so are we all set? Everyone knows what they're doing?


Train and Mack both nod in agreement. Pixie can be heard confirming her understanding off-camera.


Trevor: And you Slayer? Hey. HEY! Put that damn thing away and pay attention, this is important shit!

.::Pussyslayer69::.: I ain't doing it.

Trevor: What? Why the fuck not?

.::Pussyslayer69::.: You want me to wrestle this fat old bastard-


Slayer keep his eyes on the screen but nods his head towards Train.


.::Pussyslayer69::.: Well I'm sorry but fuck that. There's no way I can hit my finish on him.

Trevor: You finisher's a front flip tombstone piledriver off the top rucking rope! You can't hit it on anyone!

.::Pussyslayer69::.: Nope. I can hit it, but nobody here's good enough to take it properly.

Trevor: Bull shit. You just can't hit it.

.::Pussyslayer69::.: I could hit it on him.





Trevor: Now hold on, he's already wrestled tonight.

.::Pussyslayer69::.: He wasn't in the match officially! He can pull a double shift!

Pixie Styx: Can we please stop referring to the Plank of wood as "he"? It's weird.

Trevor: Hey, whether you like it or not Plank is our champion, now you show him a little respect for what he's done in this business young lady!

Alright, fine, here's what we'll do. Slayer, you don't wanna wrestle Train so we'll shift some things around. Train and Mack can team up-

Mack Daddy: Now hold on, you just lumping us together cos we both black!

Trevor: Don't you go pulling no race card on me!

Mack Daddy: Puttin' me and him on a team together don't make no sense! I'm a heel and he's a babyface! Why the fuck would we be teaming up?

Trevor: Because I'm the booker that's why the fuck!

Freight Train: He got a point you know. Why would you put a good guy and a bad guy together? Don't make no sense, no sense at all. Just like... Like steppin' out onto the tracks in front of a speedin' train.

Trevor: Mark no...

Freight Train: Why would you do it man? Of all the ways to... Jus' why? Why me? Why'd he have to do it in front of my train?

Trevor: Don't think about it man, just forget about it.

Freight Train: I cain't ever forget about it...

Trevor: Well alright, how about this - you get the main event slot tonight? I'll put you up against Mack.

Mack Daddy: So first you wanna put the black guys on a team and now you want us to fight each other! You a racist or somethin' man? You just tryin' to perpetuate stereotypes of black-on-black violence!

Trevor: Stereoty- The first thing you said tonight when you came into my house was "Yo what up my n-words?"! Your character is a goddamn gold chain-wearing nightclub-owning rap producer! It's like Tupac fucked Mr. T and had a baby! You're a walking fucking stereotype!

Mack Daddy: ...

Alright, you got a point.

Trevor: Exactly. RIGHT then. So we're gonna have brother-versus-sister, Slayer against Pixie, then the main event is gonna be Freight Train taking on Mack Daddy. Do I hear any objections?

.::Pussyslayer69::.: When do I get my title shot?

Trevor: When you actually get your dick wet so... Never?

Ok, we got the matches booked - let's talk finishes.














Pixie Styx is standing by just inside the back door. She holds a microphone which is plugged in to Mack Daddy's sound system. She's wearing her wrestling gear, but also glasses and a baseball cap to play the part of backstage interviewer. Feedback wails whenever she speaks.


Pixie Styx: Please welcome my guest at this time, .::PussySlayer69::. - now Slayer, you're about to take on Pixie Stix in the first real match in BYOB but literally nobody thinks you're capable of winning a match, let alone against your older sister. What do you have to say to your critics?

.::Pussyslayer69::.: My critics can suck a dick, I fucked their mom and she liked it. Also, Pixie smells of shit, she's fat and she's ugly and she's got no chance, because I'm the PussySlayer!

Pixie Styx: Perhaps you might be alone in thinking that? Perhaps Pixie Stix is gonna kick your teeth down your throat?

.::Pussyslayer69::.: Nah. She's so {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore} she'd lose worse than Skeeter did if she went up against Nobody.

Pixie Styx: OK, do I really have to stand here and listen to this shit? Why am I the one doing the interview when I'm also in this match?

Trevor: Just stay in-character!




"Despacito" plays and Slayer flips Pixie off before walking out through the curtain that hangs across the back door. The shot switches to Mack Daddy's POV outside with the second camera (very technical for BYOB) as Slayer walks down the step.


Trevor: Slayer walks to the ring with a cocky swagger - which is fitting because he's definitely a cock.

.::Pussyslayer69::.: Fuck you Uncle Trevor!

Trevor: You can try if you like but it won't get you any closer to that title shot!




Trevor switches the track on the CD to "Pretty Like Drugs" and Pixie steps out through the curtain and pulls her glasses and hat off. She's still got the microphone.

Pixie Styx: Slayer I heard what you said about me back there and I just wanted to make sure that you and all of these people here...


There are no people here except the wrestlers.


Pixie Styx: ...realize that only ONE thing you said was true, and that's the first part of your name!

Trevor: Aww shit! Burn!


Pixie drops the mic.


Mack Daddy: Fuck! Yo be careful with that! They expensive!

Trevor: Pixie Styx looks pissed off as she steps through the ropes - she goes straight after her brother and it's on! Freight Train is the referee, not that you can miss him out there, he looks like a zebra ate a fuckin' zeppelin or somethin.


Freight Train indeed looks like some hideous zebra/blimp hybrid, thanks to a far-too-small striped shirt stretched over his mammoth gut.


Trevor: Ohhh! You fight like a girl, Slayer! Look at him go slappin' and scratchin' and shit! Now they BOTH slappin' the shit outta each other!


Slayer Irish whips Pixie into the ropes, she rebounds and leapfrogs him, rebounds again, sunset flip! She almost crushes her much smaller brother as he slams into the mat!


Trevor: Pinning attempt by Pixie Styx! Mark! Get down there and count you fat fuck! One! Two! Kick out!

.::Pussyslayer69::.: Owww, my head... Take it easy!

Trevor: Oh shut up you pussy! Your sister was right! Be a man! Skeeter got a head trauma and you don't hear him complaining!

Mack Daddy: Yo maybe we should get him some medical help, he ain't moved in over an hour...

Trevor: Ah, he'll be fine. Slayer gets up, Pixie goes behind lookin' fer a waistlock - elbow to the tit! Watch out or you'll burst 'em! Ha! Snap DDT, now HE goes for a pin! Come on Mark! Move faster fer fuck's sake! One! Two! Kick out!


Slayer gets up and pulls Pixie up using her hair. He spins her round, and goes for his Pumphandle Slam!


Pixie Styx: Whoa! Watch where you're putting your hands!

Trevor: Dude, that's your sister! You gross bastard!

.::Pussyslayer69::.: Shut the fuck up and take my move!

Pixie Styx: Stop trying to touch me up you pervert!


Pixie fights out of the pumphandle set up and slaps her brother hard across the face. He staggers and sort of falls out of the ring. She goes after him, and he grabs a gardening trowel and clocks her around the head with it!


Trevor: Ok! Now we gettin' hard core! Pixie just took a hard tool in the face that opened her up good! She's pissing blood from her gash!

Mack Daddy: Man, Jesus, think about what you sayin, dude!


Pixie's crimson mask makes it hard for her to see clearly, she swings blindly for Slayer and he goes behind her and hits a backdrop! Makes the cover - one! Two! Thr- kick out!


Trevor: She's been busted open but she's still going! She's got a fighter spirit!


Pixie wipes the blood away from her eyes as she gets up, then turns round and smashes a plant pot over Slayer's head! He goes flat on his back and she covers him; one! Kick out!


Pixie Styx: Don't kick out at one! I just smashed a fucking plant pot on your head! At least make two-and-a-half!

Trevor: Trash-talking going on in the ring, Pixie getting frustrated that despite her best efforts, she couldn't put her brother away!

Pixie Styx: No, I'm pissed off at him not fucking selling my shit!

Trevor: (Cough) Kayfabe! (Cough)


Pixie grabs a set of jumper cables and starts whipping them at Slayer, catching him across the back several times. He screams with each lash, desperately trying to run away before grabbing a beer bottle from the commentary table and smashing it over Pixie's head! As she falters he grabs her and goes to hit a Pedigree!

Pixie stands and back drops him!


Pixie Styx: You son of a- that's MY finisher! Just cos yours sucks don't try and steal mine!

Trevor: Pixie's REAL pissed now that he tried to steal her finisher! She's chokin' him with those jumper cables! His face is turning as blue as his tiny virgin balls! Pulls him up with those cables and throws him back into the ring, goes in after him and... Kick to the nuts! Pedigree! This one's over! She covers him, she's got a handful of tights! Freight Train makes the count...

One!

Slayer struggles, trying to kick out!

Two!

He's really going for it but she's holding tight!

Three!

Pixie lets him go just after the count and rolls out of the ring. Slayer sits up and pouts.


Trevor: Pixie Styx pins her brother! You just lost to a girl, Slayer! You ARE a pussy!

.::Pussyslayer69::.: What the FUCK!? I was meant to win that match! Reverse the fuckin' decision!

Freight Train: Sorry kid, but y'all got yo ass pinned.

.::Pussyslayer69::.: Do it you fat FUCK!


Slayer slaps Train's stomach and Train gets a furious look on his face. His left eye twitches.


Freight Train: Don't you call me no fat fuck!

.::Pussyslayer69::.: What are you gonna do? Kill me like you killed that guy?

Trevor: Oh shit...


Train's eye twitches rapidly and he suddenly throws Slayer into the turnbuckle and splashes him with Off The Rails!


Trevor: Ref's gone rogue! The ref's gone rogue! He just hit his finish on Slayer and fuckin' flattened him! What a twist! What drama! And now what's this - oh my god, here comes Mack Daddy!


Mack Daddy skips to his entrance theme on the CD, hands the camera to Pixie and then picks something up, steaming into the ring.


Trevor: Mack Daddy's got a weapon and he's - OH FUCK! THAT'S NOT A WEAPON!


Mack Daddy swings and smashes a board across Train's back. He hits him again and snaps the wood clean in half!


Trevor: PLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!








Pixie Styx is standing inside and in front of a closed door. She has her reporter's hat and glasses again, and dried blood smeared down her face.


Pixie Styx: I'm Pixie Styx - the victorious Pixie Styx - and I'm standing outside of Trevor's office because I believe he has an important announcement to make.


She pushes the door open to reveal Trevor, half naked and sat on the toilet.


Trevor: HEY, I'M TAKIN' A SHIT!







Pixie Styx is standing inside and in front of a closed door. She has her reporter's hat and glasses again, and dried blood smeared down her face.


Pixie Styx: I'm Pixie Styx - the victorious Pixie Styx - and I'm standing outside of Trevor's office because I believe he has an important announcement to make.


She pushes the door open to reveal Trevor standing by his bed, looking down at the splintered Plank laying on the sheets. He raises his head to look at the camera.


Trevor: Mack Daddy, you went too far tonight. Now I can understand wantin' to get the jump on your rival Freight Train, but to bring an innocent party into all of this? You injured my champion. You just put the top guy on the shelf for god knows how long, and you gotta pay the price. So as of right now, your match tonight against Freight Train is going to be a TABLES MATCH!


Trevor looks back down at Plank and shakes his head.


Pixie Styx: Back to ringside.













Pixie Styx: You join us back at ringside, I'm Pixie Stix joining Trevor Neverstone on the commentary table for the main event-

Trevor: I just can't do it on my own, not after what happened to Plank.

Pixie Styx: Just moments ago the Super Hardcore Champion, uh, Plank, found... itself in the middle of a violent confrontation between Mack Daddy and Freight Train. Mack Daddy picked up the champion and literally broke him across the back of Freight Train. Trevor, how does this affect the future of the championship because, well... You know, I'm the only other person with a winning record here in BYOB...

Trevor: The title will not be vacated, not until the severity of Plank's injury is ascertained by a medical professional.

Pixie Styx: Well our champion is literally in two pieces right now... I'd say it's pretty severe.

Trevor: I won't be answering any more questions until I get The Good Doctor's diagnosis so I'm just gonna hit Freight Train's music.




Freight Train walks out through the curtain wearing an old-timey engine driver's hat and miming pulling a train horn.

Pixie Styx: Six-foot-six and 320 pounds of Freight Train is rolling towards the ring and I for one don't see how Mack Daddy can hope to lift this man and put him through a table!

Trevor: I know, that's why I booked this match.


Trevor stops Train's theme as he gets into the ring, but he doesn't hit Mack Daddy's music.

Mack Daddy pokes his head out of the curtain and looks at Trevor.


Mack Daddy: Yo man, where's my music?

Trevor: I ain't playin' your theme! You walk to the ring in silence! In shame!

Mack Daddy: Oh fuck you man, all pissy and shit because I broke your precious plank!


Daddy walks to the ring in a huff and climbs in through the ropes. He doesn't even bother to do his trademark pimp-swagger.


Pixie Styx: Mack Daddy stands five feet ten inches tall and weighs 250 pounds, he's giving up a lot in terms of height and weight to Freight Train!

Trevor: Good. BOOOOO! You suck Mack Daddy! FLATTEN HIM MARK!


Train and Mack circle each other and hook up - already this is looking to be a better-executed match than the previous two. Train overpowers Mack easily and then pushes him into the corner - looks to hit his finisher early! But he's winded from hitting it once before tonight, he lumbers slowly and Mack dodges easily. Mack taunts the non-existent crowd as Freight Train wheezes against the turnbuckle, then hits some straight jabs and runs off the ropes - Train scoops him up on the rebound though and hits a backbreaker!


Pixie Styx: That looked painful for Mack Daddy! Freight Train's going for a pin now!

Mack Daddy: Jesus I can't breathe! Get off me you dick this is a tables match!

Freight Train: Whoops. My bad.


Trevor: Fuck! Why did I book this as a tables match? Train could have won right there!

Pixie Styx: Is this supposed to be a work or a shoot right now because I'm having a hard time figuring it out?

Trevor: Bit a both... I want them to tell a story in the ring but, Jesus, I just wanna see Mack get his bell rung for what he did to Plank.


Mack gets up and easily beats Train to his feet. He slams him across the back but Train completely no-sells and goes for an Irish whip! Reversal by Mack - but he can't drag Freight Train, and the big man pulls his pimpin' opponent back into him and shoulder-checks him hard! Train lumbers with all the grace of a hippo and leans into the ropes, threatening to bring the whole ring down with him, then 'rebounds' back and hits a running leg drop on Mack!


Trevor: Devastating leg drop! Now get a table! GET A TABLE!!!


Train steps over the ropes and picks up the spare folding table from outside the ring. He throws it into the squared circle and it lands hard on top of Mack Daddy. Stepping back over the ropes, Train flips the legs of the table out and stands it up before rolling Mack on top of it.


Pixie Styx: Freight Train has Mack Daddy right where he wants him but let's be realistic here, is he going to be able to get up the turnbuckle to put him through it?


Freight Train backs into the corner and starts to climb the ropes. As soon as his weight is concentrated on the bottom rope, the makeshift turnbuckle gives way and the bottom rope rips out of its moorings!


Trevor: Shit, we only got two ropes as it is!


Train looks forlornly at the broken bottom rope, knowing full well that he'll never be able to get himself up onto the one remaining rope in one step.

He has an idea and steps out of the ring once more, grabbing himself a tiny wooden stepladder that stands about two feet tall.

Bringing it back into the ring he places it next to the table and gingerly steps up onto the top step.


Trevor: Here it comes! The Big Body Splash!

Pixie Styx: Wait! Mack Daddy moved out of the way! Freight Train goes straight through the table!


The flimsy pasting table crumples easily under Freight Train's weight. Mack Daddy jumps up to his feet and celebrates.


Trevor: That don't count! It don't count if you put yourself through the table! Match continues!

Freight Train: Fuuuuck, does it have to?

Trevor: Come on man, you didn't lose! Now get up and fight back!


Freight Train is stranded as Mack Daddy picks up a half of the broken table and starts slamming him with it. He just clubs him repeatedly with the obliterated wood, splinters and shards go flying everywhere.


Trevor: Oh my god I can't watch, reminds me too much of what happened to Plank...


Train begins to 'Hulk up', shrugging off Mack Daddy's assault and getting (slowly) up to his feet. He shakes his head and beats his huge chest as Mack goes nuts with the piece of wood and then grabs him by the throat, looking at him with a wild-eyed glare!


Trevor: Yes! Yes! Freight Train is going to that deepest, darkest of places inside his psyche!

Mack Daddy: Oh shit man I didn't mean to - don't hurt me man!


Freight Train roars and gives Mack Daddy a HARD chop across the chest and Mack goes stumbling out of the ring. Freight Train follows him, steam almost literally hissing out of his ears as he runs Mack into the garden fence. The fence wobbles and almost collapses but Train pulls Mack away, slamming him into the wall of the shed! He steps back and then runs at Mack, and the pair of them go crashing through the shed door!


Pixie Styx: Holy shit! Freight Train just obliterated that door and I can't see a damn thing now with both of them inside that shed!

Trevor: Now this is wrestling! Oh boy! Wait a minute it looks like... Aw, son of a bitch, Mack Daddy's gettin' away!


Sure enough Mack Daddy crawls, falteringly, through the demolished shed door. Freight Train is nowhere to be seen.


Mack Daddy: Ah... Jesus.... Fucking.... Jesus....


A huge crash is heard coming from the shed and suddenly Freight Train appears in the door - wielding a lawnmower!

Mack Daddy: Oh god! No no no no no!

Freight Train: CHOO CHOO MOTHERFUCKER


Train pulls the ripcord the crank the engine and the mower splutters into life! Mack Daddy tries to crawl away but Train catches up with him and lifts the mower up, then rams it down towards Mack's face!

Mack Daddy: Shit! Shit! Stop! I quit! I quit!


Mack Daddy grabs the mower and tries to push it away, the spinning blade inching closer and closer to his face with every passing second!


Mack Daddy: Nah man I don't wanna do this no more! I don't wanna do this no more!

Freight Train: Table! Table! TAAAAAAAAABLE!

Trevor: Oh shit, we, uh- hang on!


Trevor suddenly springs up and runs back inside the house as Mack Daddy desperately clings on for dear life.

Freight Train still has that deranged look of burning hatred in his eyes.

He's going to kill Mack Daddy! Literally! Unless... Mack Daddy puts all his eggs in one basket and kicks up, booting Train in the balls! He lets go of the lawnmower! Mack Daddy scrambles to his feet and waffles Train with a roaring elbow strike! And another! And another!


Pixie Styx: Mack Daddy is mounting a comeback and Freight Train is busted open! All he needs right now is a - hold on, what's that sound?


A loud scraping sound can be heard and Trevor emerges through the back door dragging along a glass coffee table.


Trevor: Don't say I never get you boys anything!


Mack Daddy's eyes light up and he starts manoeuvring Freight Train over to the new table, beating him around the head with a length of hose and then looping the hose round Train's neck and using it to drag him.

Mack gets Train positioned with his back to the table, and starts punching him in the face.


Pixie Styx: This is good strategy! Mack Daddy knows he'll never be able to lift Freight Train but that table's pretty low - all he has to do is knock him over and he'll go through the table!

Trevor: But knocking over Freight Train is easier said than done! He's a behemoth!

Pixie Styx: I think Mack Daddy's realized that now and he's turned his attention to - my god, he's not going to... Is he?

Trevor: Is he gonna CHEAT you mean? Yeah I can see it!

Pixie Styx: Mack Daddy has Freight Train out on his feet but now he's going to try and deliver the coup de gras... Using a child's swing set! He drags the structure over and sets it in front of Freight Train! He climbs on to the swing, he's starting to build up momentum! Look at him go!

Trevor: He looks like a DICK!

Pixie Styx: Mack Daddy's getting ready to fly now! He jumps off - wait!


Mack Daddy attempts a jumping clothesline off of the moving swing - but Freight Train catches him in mid-air, then turns round and delivers a sickening black hole slam through the glass coffee table!


Freight Train: Yes! Yes! Freight Train wins! Freight Train wins! Fuck you Mack Daddy you plank-murdering BASTARD!


Trevor plays "The Train Kept A Rollin" and stands up, dancing for joy behind the announce desk. Both men are completely trashed, laying amongst the broken glass and twisted metal.


Freight Train: The good guys win! The good guys win the main event of this first-ever House Show! Plank's gotta be layin' there in the medical room with a smile on his splintery face after seeing that rat bastard Mack Daddy get what he had coming!

The Good Doctor: Looks like I missed one hell of a party... Sorry I'm late, a patient came in at the last minute. Took forever for him to just hurry up and die so I could get here.


The good doctor surveys the scene as broken bodies lay strewn across the yard.


The Good Doctor: How long's he been laying there?

Trevor: What, Skeeter? Bout two hours.

The Good Doctor: Jesus, two hours?

Trevor: He'll be fine. He's just sleeping it off.

The Good Doctor: And what about Mark?


Mark stirs, and starts to get up. Shards of glass rain down off of his body.


Freight Train: Ugh... I'm alright, I think.

The Good Doctor: Holy shit is that...

Trevor: Oh yeah, Mack's down there too. Don't worry, he deserved it.

The Good Doctor: (sighs) I'll go get my stuff.

Trevor: Alright, bring yer wood glue. I got a champion that needs patchin' up first.

[Steele]

And we are live! pre-taped!