[WWO] Rewind 12/03/2001
Someone Important
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[ As the images continue slowly as a voice is heard coming over the music]
VOICE: Welcome to WWO Re-Wind, the ultimate re-cap show in the world of
wrestling.
VOICE: Tonight, on Re-Wind:
[Shot of the members of the "Upper Crust" gathered in the ring.]
VOICE: The dangerous even became more so...
[ Shot of Don Cameron complaining to Louie the Lip.]
VOICE: The new sherriffs in town aren't about to stop it...
[ Shot of a Romanis fireball going in the face of one of the Damage,
Incorporated members.]
VOICE: So the weapons are out...
[ Shot of Chris Hopper pulling the official out of the ring in the Title of
the Americas match.]
VOICE: So everyone's throwing their weight around...
[ The image begins to swirl in a dynamic, colourful effect ]
VOICE: Plus flashes from Miguel Quesada, Ace of Hearts, P.A.I.N and MORE!
All this and more TONIGHT ON RE-WIND!
[ The picture then fades into a large WWO studio with television sets,
people walking around and the like. Sitting at a large oval desk is the
voice of the WWO, Mickey Ralph..]
VOICE: And here is your host, from the WWO News Control, Mickey Ralph!
MR: And thank you once again for joining us here on the hottest recap show
in the world of professional wrestling, Rewind. And what a show it is to
recap.
[Mickey turns his chair slightly, and the camera angle follows.]
MR: It's only one show past Anarchy, and already we're seeing all sorts of
trouble make it's way back up to the surface of the World Wrestling
Organization. And wouldn't you know that the biggest source of trouble
would be the group of Tyrone Hayes, Nate Knowitall, Tracy Hudson, and
Johnny Detson.
MR: Now referring to themselves as the Upper Crust, they came out to open
last week's show with a huge variety of forked tongues. They made their
opinions well known on the World Wrestling Organization and the insults
weren't limited to just Todd Johnstone.
MR: Everyone had something to say about the WWO, it's fans, and even it's
members. But fortunately, depending on who you were supporting, the rants
were cut just a tad bit short, when Dark Soul and Apex made their way out
to the arena floor, and issued a challenge. A tag team match with the two
men who have been at the heart of most of the antics of the Upper Crust
lately, Tracy Hudson and Johnny Detson.
MR: And it seemed that the Upper Crust was going to be more than happy to
oblige, as they gave their acceptance in big letters of the locker rooms,
where they attacked John Collins, and promised to do the same to Dark and
Apex in the ring.
MR: However, things didn't turn out exactly like they hoped, as it was
Apex and Dark Soul who walked out of Seattle with the victory and a small
measure of revenge for the past few weeks and the comments of the Upper
Crust. Of course, that hasn't stopped certain wrestlers from continuing on
their apparent "crusade" as you'll see in this clip, when Lenny Wacus
caught up with Johnny Detson.
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>(( REWIND - "BLOCKBUSTER" JOHNNY DETSON ))<
=================================================
Cut to the opening scene::: The scene opens in Biloxi, Mississippi at the
never hard to find WWO Headquarters. The camera pans down to a small
gathering of people picketing in front of the building. In a circle they
march holding their signs high in the air. The signs all have different
messages scribbled on them such as "On Strike", "Perot For President", "Fur
Is Murder", and "Life Begins At
Conception". As they continue to march and shout a man steps up to a make
shift stage over looking them. This man is none other than our hero, the
"Blockbuster" Johnny Detson. Detson is dressed is a tailor made black suit
with a white shirt and gold tie. He holds a megaphone to his lips as he
peers
down at the protesters through his shades.
CROWD: HEY HO, STONE MUST GO!! WE MUST OVERTHROW!!
Our hero continues to smile at his crowd as he pulls the triggers firing
the megaphone to life.
Detson: PEOPLE YOUR LEADER IS HERE!
[The people begin to cheer as Detson soaks them in.]
Detson: WHAT ARE WE DOING?
CROWD: ENDING TYRANNY!!
Detson: WHY ARE WE DOING IT?
Protester: Because you're paying us!
[The crowd looks at the lone man as he looks sheepishly at the others.
Detson looks down at the man with his hands on his hips.]
Detson: NO WE'RE HERE BECAUSE ITS THE RIGHT THING TO DO!
[This time the whole crowd shouts in agreement and then they continue to
shout, chant, and march. Just then out of the WWO building walks reporter
Lenny
Wacus. He is wearing a navy blue blazer with the WWO logo on it! He has a
microphone in hand as he approaches our hero.]
Wacus: Johnny Detson I was wondering if I could get a few words from you?
[Detson turns to Wacus, megaphone in hand.]
Detson: LENNY WACUS!!!!
[Detson lowers the megaphone and smiles as Wacus' hearing aide might of
fallen out.]
Detson: Lenny Wacus, you mean to tell me the WWO still pays you to be a
reporter?
Wacus: Yeah...pays me....
Detson: What can I do for you Lenny?
Wacus: Well Johnny I was just wondering what you were doing out here?
Detson: Well its simple my good man, I am here continuing the good fight
that Tyrone Hayes started. To be blunt I'm making sure Mark Stone is
removed from
the WWO!
Wacus: But Mark Stone is removed from the WWO. You were the one to put
him out of action.
[Detson just shakes his head.]
Detson: You silly, senile man. What I did was make sure his ugly mug
wasn't calling the shots anymore! However his influence lives on! Take
the tag match I was in this week...
Wacus: You mean the match you lost?
[Detson shoots an angry glare at the reporter.]
Detson: Yes the match I lost! But its not the fact that I lost its the
fact on how the team lost!
Wacus: Pinfall?
Detson: You know you're asking for it! No the real way we lost is by an
illegal substance more dangerous than anything Tracy Hudson has ever taken!
I'm
talking about that juice that Apex drank...that....that....
Wacus: Apex JR Juice?
Detson: Yes that's the stuff. Where was the ref to stop this from taking
place? He was paid off by Mark Stone that's why he wasn't there!
Wacus: But doesn't Mark Stone pay all the referees?
Detson: Yes and that's the problem. Because of Mark Stone's influence, an
illegal substance that hasn't been approved by the FDA was administered to
Apex to give him an unfair advantage! An advantage he needed to get the
edge against me for the only time in the entire match! So therefore we
need to abolish all
signs of Mark Stone, and we need to start with this building!
Wacus: The building? What does the building have to do with Mark Stone?
Detson: Simple. Only Mark Stone would put a building in Mississippi, what
kind of place is Mississippi? Why not a major city or even West Virginia
which has
better spots than Biloxi!
Protester: Hey I'm from Biloxi!
[All of the crowd looks at the man again with shame in their eyes as he
just shrugs his shoulders.]
Protesters: Well I am!
Detson: Anyway this building represents the stupidity of Mark Stone, and
since I have enlightened the WWO we have no more need for the stupidity
that Mark Stone weighed us down with!
Wacus: But I hardly see how tearing down this building will accomplish
anything at all!
Detson: Oh ye of little foresight! I have not the time nor the patience
to describe this all to you! What I will say is that because of one thing,
and one
thing only I have all the fans of the WWO seeing the light! That one thing
is...
Protester: MONEY!!
[Everyone again looks at the man as he looks down at the ground depressed.]
Protester: Well it was for me.
[Detson grabs an item from behind the stage and produces it for the camera.
It is a dented metal folding chair.]
Detson: This is the chair that hit Mark Stone! This is the sole thing
that has made life better for every single fan the WWO has! Mark Stone
tried to take me
out of wrestling, but as everyone can see, HE FAILED! Now I will make sure
that he never gets a chance to bore people again! His wrestlers will be
destroyed,
his building will be destroyed, and most of all his harm done to wrestling
will be erase forever!
Wacus: You seem pretty confident.
Detson: Of course I'm confident! I have a powerful group of people in the
Upper Crust with me, and I have all of these people with me. Its because
they trust me! Its because they know I'm right! Its because....
Protester: You owe them fifty bucks!
[Once again everybody looks at the man. Our hero looks at him and the
camera picks up his face getting extremely red.]
Detson: CUT!! THAT'S A RAP!!
With that our hero promptly leaves the reporter standing there as he makes
a mad dash for the protester. The credits start to roll slowly up the
screen as Detson chases the protester away with the chair that hit Mark
Stone held high above his head. We fade to black just as it seems that our
hero will
reach his foe. The following has been made possible by Johnny Detson
Productions INC. with the full cooperation of the Upper Crust.
The Upper Crust: making the world entertaining again.
THE END
=================================================
MR: As I said, Johnny once again, not finished with his criticisms of
President Stone, who as we have heard from various reports, is still under
doctor's orders to stay away from the World Wrestling Organization for a
while longer.
MR: But even with out Stone around, Johnny continuing to throw the
accusations at the bottle of "Apex Jr. Juice" that Apex has used a number
of times in recent weeks. And that's not the only strange thing that has
gone into Apex's diet as of lately...
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>(( REWIND - APEX ))<
=================================================
[The scene opens on a small brown ant. This ant doesn't move much, seeing
how he's covered in chocolate. He looks pretty tasty.]
[The scene pans away from the ant, and reveals Apex's locker room. Apex
is sitting at the table, staring at the ant. Charlie is on the other side
of
the room, packing a gym bag.]
Charlie: You's did good, 'Pex. You's did good.
Apex: Can I eat the ant now?
Charlie: Sure.
[And with that, Apex grabs the ant and tosses him in his mouth, with a huge
smile across his face. After a couple of seconds of chewing, a disgusted
look appears on Apex's face, and he spits the ant on the table.]
Apex: That... that was candy, right?
Charlie: It was a chocolate cov'ad ant, 'Pex.
Apex: Candy, right Charlie?
[Apex stands up, pointing his finger at his elderly agent. Charlie's eyes
dart to the left, then the right. He shrugs as he responds.]
Charlie: Sure.
[Apex runs his hand over his brow.]
Apex: Phew. 'Cause eating a real ant would be kinda gross.
[Charlie looks down, as he finishes packing his bag.]
Charlie: Yeah.
[After a quick check of the contents, Charlie nods as zips up the bag.
He starts walking towards the door.]
Charlie: Well, 'Pex, I's gots to go. Agent stuff, you understand.... all
the
rage with this Apex Jr. juice has got me at meetings at 6 in da' morning.
Apex: Alright, Zombie Corners and I have a couple things to wrap up
here, and we'll catch you tomorrow.
[Charlie waves as he exits the locker room. Apex looks across the
table.]
Apex: So, wanna taste that ant and see what you think, Zombie
Corners?
[A short pause.]
Apex: Fine, be a chicken.
[Apex walks to a locker and pulls it open. He pulls out a gym bag,
and tosses it on the table.]
Apex: So, what'd you think of my Zombie Splash?
[Apex looks disappointed, as he stares at his imaginary undead
manager.]
Apex: Come on, even the Russian judge would've given it more
than an 8.
[Apex shakes his head, as if to disagree with whatever comments
the Smelly One is making.]
Apex: Yeah, yeah, yeah... I know. I've got some work to do. But with
the Apex Jr. Juice stimulating me, and a real zombie training me, I'll
be in-control of my half-zombie nature in no time. And you have to
admit, in zombie mode, I gave Detson and Hudson all they wanted
and more.
[Another pause, as Apex stares his imaginary manager.]
Apex: Yeah, I know, we need some direction. There's no way the
front office will let us anywhere near Tyrone or the World Title again
any time soon. I was thinking that it'd be fun and relaxing to make
Detson's life a living hell for the time being, ya' know, until something
else comes up.
[Apex nods, as he grabs the bag.]
Apex: Well, we'll deal with it when it happens. I have an interview with
Kimberly later this week, and well, we need to catch up with Dark and
see if we have any new sale items.
[Apex lifts his left arm, and pats the air "on the back", and follows his
imaginary manager out of the room.]
Apex: So, only an 8?
[The scene fades to black as Apex exits the scene.]
=================================================
MR: I'm not sure what's going on with Apex's "juice"... but what is
going on is that Tracy Hudson, in the midst of this war, has done
everything he can think of to Dark Soul, attacking Candy Malone and
attacking John Collins. And yet, despite that, so far it's Dark Soul who
has come out on top of Hudson two times now. Once in singles action, and
on last week's Showcase in the main event tag match.
MR: But Tracy has not given up yet that he can break Dark Soul, or even
end his career, as you are about to see, as he has put forward a
challenge... a very large challenge, for next week, as Mackey found out
when he caught up with "The Prodigy".
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>(( REWIND - "THE PRODIGY" TRACY HUDSON ))<
=================================================
[We begin with a shot of Mackey Jay, standing against a plain red
on black WWO logo backdrop. He's dressed professionally, and he
has a microphone in his right hand, so it's safe to say Mr. Jay
will be interviewing somebody. And since the title before all this
expository stuff reads TRACY HUDSON in all capitol letters, one
could deduce that he will be the one interviewed.]
[Which leads to a very important question: Where is Tracy, anyway?]
OFF SCREEN VOICE: Damn! Ya know, Moon, one would think that Olvera
and Horan would actually use some of their hard earned WWO cash to
get a janitor in that office. It looks like my first apartment in
there!
OFF SCREEN MOON VOICE: Yep...and your second apartment, and your
third, and your house, and every motel room you stay in when we
stop on tour...say, you want me to go on? I could, you know.
[Cue Moongirl and Hudson. Moon is casually attired in a ragged
Switchblade Symphony t-shirt and black slacks. Hudson is dressed
as he usually is (remind me to write a flash where he's naked- Bet
that'd throw you off.), in a black sleeveless t-shirt (HUDSON'S T-
SHIRT MOTTO OF THE DAY: So, what do you do when you _don't_
suck?). faded black jeans, combat boots, sunglasses, and a magic
codpiece that vibrates whenever in the presence of anything with a
pulse...alright, so I lied about that last bit. But if he did have
one, you bet your ass he'd wear it! Um...anyway...]
HUDSON: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm a slob. I know it, you know it,
anyone watching the WWO since 1998 knows it...All I'm saying is
that there's just something not right about seeing one of Olvera's
Powerpuff Girl pinups right next to a Slayer concert flyer, y'know?
MOONGIRL: What's wrong with that? Slayer kicks much ass...
HUDSON: Well, so do the Powerpuff Girls! Well, Buttercup does, at
least.
[Mackey had better say something. He's starting to become one with
the spirit of a potted fern.]
JAY: Heh, heh...my daughter's favorite's Bubbles.
HUDSON: (To Jay) Oh yeah...she's a hot number herself. I prefer
the dark haired type myself.
JAY: What do you...oh, crap.
MOONGIRL: You're so not saying what I think you're saying. That's
so dirty.
HUDSON: Hey! If the Powerpuff Girls are old enough to fight crime
on a daily basis, than they're old enough to handle a little bit
of this...oh yeah!
[Hudson begins making rude pelvic thrusts toward the camera.
Mackey and Moon begin looking creeped out.]
MACKEY: But um...you do realize they're cartoons, right?
[Hudson shoots Mackey a "What? Are you a total idiot?" look, and
says...]
HUDSON: What? Are you a total idiot? That's just what they tell
you so you'll stop trying to make motorboat noises in their
cleavage! Women, man...I tell ya.
[Mackey kinda nods, and shows a feeble grin. Then he regains
himself and turns to the camera.]
MACKEY: Uh...Mackey Jay here. I have with me right now, a man
who...uh...we've gone well past that point in the interview. So,
Tracy, what brings you back to the WWO Office?
HUDSON: Bukkake videos.
MACKEY: Come again...?
HUDSON: Yeah, I remembered a few nights ago that I left my
collection of Bukkake videos in the Tag Team VP's office.
MACKEY: Okay, I'm gonna regret asking this, but what exactly is
Bukkake?
HUDSON: Well, you take a woman, right? Bury her in sand, or lock
her in a box...whatever really. Just as long as her face and head
are exposed, it's cool. Then, when that's taken care of, a whole
bunch a naked guys come along, and...
MACKEY: SO...Is there anything you wanted to tell me that has
anything at all to do with wrestling?
HUDSON: Hey, thanks! I totally forgot about that part. Say, you
remember the old commercials they used to do for Reese's Peanut
Butter Cups. You know, guy walks in with a bucket of peanut
butter, bumps into a dude with a chocolate bar, chocolate falls
into the peanut butter, and there ya go. One guy's all, "Hey! You
got your choclolate in my peanut butter!". And the other guy
goes, "No! you got your peanut butter in my chocolate!"
MOONGIRL: Look, can we reward the three viewers still watching
this with a point?
MACKEY: Yeah...you're really running the gamut.
HUDSON: SILENCE!!! Look, the point is this: I love peanut butter.
It's one of my favorite foods. In fact, if I could, I'd pay a
Tijuana prostitute to smear it all over my...oh yeah. Point. You
see, kids, I like to think of the WWO as being a big, wonderful,
tasty, jar of crunchy peanut butter. And I've already establish
how much I dig the stuff.
HUDSON: And then, there's Dark Soul. I mean, here I am, just
content to sit in my own happyland, relishing my big jar of WWO.
And then along comes Chris <BLEEPING> Werner, to put his big, fat,
chocolaty hands in it. To break it down for ya: Werner, YOU GOT
YOUR GODDAMN CHOCOLATE IN MY PEANUT BUTTER!!! And I...HATE PEANUT
BUTTER CUPS!
MOONGIRL: Really? I could book that match for you, if you wanted.
[Now Hudson looks really...well, pissed.]
HUDSON: i...Said...SILENCE!!!
[Silence.]
HUDSON: It's like this, Dark Soul. You get everything <BLEEPING>
handed to you! You get the cush spot in the WWO. You get the love
of the fans in every town you stop in. You command the respect of
everyone around you. And what do I get, you ask? I get "You know,
I heard you used to be good." And "Weren't you Latex Lex?".
HUDSON: And that's okay and everything. I can live with that. But,
in every word you say, in the way you look down at me like I'm
somehow so far below you. The way you and everyone else think I'm
so pitiful because I traded my life for a goodamn needle and a
spoon. The way you all talk about me like I'm already dead when
nobody's around with a camera to record it...
You mock me.
I have nothing left anymore. And yet you mock me.
HUDSON: But never again, Dark Soul. Never in a million years will
you be able to laugh at me anymore. No more...because I've nothing
in the world left to lose, man. And you...you have everything. So
I have to ask...Are you a gambling man? Are you willing to put
everything on the line? Are you willing to put your heart, your
soul...Your VERY CAREER on the line?
HUDSON: More importantly than that, are you willing to do this
say...next week? In my hometown? My backyard? I have the contract
right here...all you gotta do is say the word.
MACKEY AND MOON: ...What!?
MACKEY: You're challenging Dark Soul to a Loser Leaves Town match
next Showcase?
HUDSON: Yep. Way I figure it, win or lose, I'll make enough off
the ad money alone to buy...well, I had a list here somewhere.
MACKEY: And...there you have it! Hudson officially challenging
Dark Soul to a retirement match for next week's Showcase! Damn...
HUDSON: Well, that's all I got to say. Mackey, thanks for letting
me bend your ear. And since this will likely be one of the last
times you hear it...
...laters...
[We fade out. Flash done. Go home.]
=================================================
MR: Tracy Hudson challenges Dark Soul to a "career ending" match,
something that has taken all of us by suprise in the World Wrestling
Organization..
[For one of the few times in Rewind history, Mickey is talking loudly to a
phone-in conversation with..]
MR: Well, now, on the phone, is Dark Soul. Good evening, Dark Soul.
(Picture turns from Mickey Ralph to a still promo shot of Dark Soul.
Dressed in black jean shorts and a "Laters..." shirt that is torn up the
sides, he looks at the camera from a side view with his head slumped
slightly to the opposite side.)
Dark Soul (on the phone): Thanks Mickey.
(Back to Mickey.)
MR: You've witnessed what Tracy Hudson had to say. Tell us your feelings
about the challenge.
(Slow motion video of Dark Soul and Tracy Hudson punching each other.)
Dark Soul: I never thought that Tracy Hudson had any brains that he hadn't
smoke or snorted away, but I was pleasantly surprised with his challenge.
The WWO is my playground. This isn't 1998 or 1999, this is 2001. And
because of that, I, with zero fears, accept the challenge. This is a guy
who doesn't have the brass to fight me...he'd rather go after my friend and
my valet and then when we are in the ring, tries to take every cheap shot
possible. The WWO doesn't need his s<TV EDIT>...and damn sure want to put
him to rest.
(Back to Mickey.)
MR: But Dark, you of all people have to be worried of the rest of the
Upper Crust. You've had problems with Nate Knowitall, Todd Johnstone,
Tyrone Hayes, and the last Showcase, Johnny Detson.
(Following videos are shown of some of Dark Soul's big moments in the WWO.
Including the sunset powerbomb to the floor on William Craven , Russian
Legsweep to the floor on Tracy Hudson, and a Soul Seeker delivered to
Tyrone Hayes.)
Dark Soul: Yes, I know that, Mickey. I know how much those guys don't
like me either. And after Showcase, they'll have a new level of hatred for
me. I know, I know, the Upper Crust wants to make this big showing, but
after I make the stable three men instead of four, they'll have a little
trouble with that.
Simply put, Mickey, if I cared about Tracy's friends, I would have never
gone after him a few weeks ago before Anarchy. I would have never been
with Apex at Showcase to make the challenge. Tracy Hudson has never once
beat me. That's all the evidence I need.
(Mickey Ralph is looking over a few sheets of paper. He looks up.)
MR: Fair enough, but this is your career on the line.
(Change to a slow motion shot of Dark Soul hitting the Soul Crusher on
Tracy Hudson.)
Dark Soul: Yep. And it's his career on the line as well which is enough
vindication for me. Candy Malone is out because of him...
(The scene of Tracy Hudson hitting the urange onto a chair on Candy Malone
is viewed.)
Dark Soul: ...John Collins is in the hospital because of him and Detson...
(A still black and white shot of John Collins slumped over a bench,
bleeding from the nose.)
Dark Soul: ...so, there is no way in hell I'm passing this opportunity up.
Tracy Hudson has to be dealt with and I can't think of a better way than by
destroying the man and ending his storied WWO career. No matter who is in
the Upper Crust, no matter what Hudson tries to pull, the fact is, he knows
he can't beat me without help and he hasn't even been able to beat me with
help. I'm not one to run my mouth when I can't back it up, but you've seen
the tape. Sure, he's two-and-oh against Candy and John...but the chump is
oh-and-two with a no decision against me.
(Back to Mickey.)
MR: Speaking of Candy, what's her status many fans and Sam Bradley are
wondering?
(Some bikini shots of Candy Malone are shown.)
Dark Soul: She had some vacation time and she's taking it. After Tracy is
out of the equation, I'm sure she'll return.
(To Mickey again.)
MR: Good, good. And thank you for your time. Good luck at Showcase.
(A shot of Dark Soul with a raised fist towards cheering fans is put on the
screen.)
Dark Soul: Thanks, Mickey. Look forward to continuing to work with you
and the rest of the WWO following Showcase. Laters...
(The scene changes to Tracy Hudson and Moongirl on the left and Dark Soul
on the right with a red background. The words "Loser Leaves WWO" are on
the bottom in white.)
MR: And it's sealed. Who will continue their WWO careers following
Superstar Showcase? Tracy Hudson or Dark Soul? When these two have locked
up before, it has been some of the most physical action in the WWO in a
long time. Add in the hatred that both share for each other and the
attacks on Candy Malone and John Collins, it's sure to be a match of the
ages at Showcase.
MR: And speaking of last matches, it's a sad day to tell the fans of the
World Wrestling Organization, that we have seen the last of Steve Dumars in
a WWO ring. After a lengthy, if somewhat `underappreciated' WWO career,
and after an incredible bout with Ace of Hearts, Steve Dumars has informed
the offices of the World Wrestling Organization that he's ready to hang up
the tights once and for all.
MR: And part of that decision was furthered along not only with a loss to
the Ace of Hearts, but also the ambush that Ace and Alex Extreme set up for
Dumars in the locker rooms. Fortunately, there was one man who stepped in
when it was needed, and that man was the Title of the Americas champion,
Papa Legba.
MR: Unfortunately, the damage was done, however, as following his match
with Ace, Dumars checked himself into a Seattle hospital, and then phoning
the WWO announed his retirement from the organization. However, with Alex
and Ace not getting to do the full damage they wanted to do, thanks to the
arrival of the champion, they decided to go for the next best thing, and
attempted to cost Legba his TOTA belt.
MR: However, once again, it was timely involvement that kept a travesty
from becoming much worse, as Chris Hopper came to the ring to even up the
odds, and Legba used the opportunity and the mistimed efforts of Alex
Extreme to score a pinfall victory over Eric Stryker.
MR: And it seems that nobody is truly happy with the outcomes of the
events, for their varying reasons. We start with the man who managed to
defend the title, let's hear from the Title of the Americas champion, Papa
Legba.
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>(( REWIND - PAPA LEGBA ))<
=================================================
[The scene opens on a random hallway of a hospital.presumably one in
Seattle, as the time/date in the lower left hand corner of the video shows
us it's shortly after Superstar Showcase was over. As we wander through the
hallway, we notice a door opening as someone comes out. It's WWO TOTA
Champion Papa Legba, and he's still dressed in his wrestling attire, but
with a trenchcoat on over it. The TOTA belt is over his left shoulder] and
his duffle bag is over the other shoulder. He saying something to someone
still in the room]
PL: I `ope you `ear me Steve, you get bettah mon.don't worry about
wrestling right now, I take care of the cowards that did this to you.Papa
stand
by the people dat stand by him, you betta believe it!
[Turning and closing the door behind him, he notices the camera crew and
immediately gets an enraged scowl on his face.]
PL: Dammit mon! Don't you people find anyting sacred `round `ere?! Can't a
man get any peace from you?
[A "full-bodied" nurse at the counter looks up with a stern expression on
her face at the sound of Papa's outburst (if you've ever been to a
hospital, you know the lady I'm talking about, and exactly what she looks
like). Papa sees the expression, and grabs the cameraman by the shoulder of
his coat to drag him
to another location, however he's griping the entire way, earning him
another look from the nurse as she shakes her head and sucks her teeth]
PL: I got some tings to say to a few people, but I-an-I be damned if it
happen right here.there's no way you getting in dat room.I not give those
UEW
cowards the satisfaction of seeing they handiwork.Dumars needs nothing but
rest right now.he hangin' on by a thread as it is!
[We make it to the end of the hallway, and turn the corner heading towards
an exit door. After going through the exit, Papa stops and unhands the
cameraman, letting him gather himself again to continue the impromptu
"interview"]
PL: Now, first tings first.Eric Stryker! I hope you pay attention to me
when I say dis: Even with you blindsiding me, you still not have what it
takes to
rumble with Papa.You put up a good fight, I admit it.had me on the ropes
for quite awhile there.Extreme and Hopper aside, you and I both know who
the better man was in that match, and that man still holds the TOTA belt.
You and me? We
done, y'hear me? DONE! You undah-estimated me, and didn't realize how
prepared I was.I pull some surprises on you, but I got more where dat come
from. I tink you got other problems to deal with in the form of Hopper, but
you not won come back f'me, seen? I put you where Steve Dumars is right
now.dat much I promise!! Don't ever cross paths with Papa Legba again!!
[Despite the cold outside, and the fact that Papa isn't wearing a shirt,
but just an overcoat.he doesn't seem to feel the chilly temperature as he
paces back
and forth in front of the camera. We can see several passerby on the street
being attracted by Papa's tirade. He seems not to notice.]
PL: Now for them rass-klaat UEW cowards..Alex Extreme, and Ace of Hearts"
apparently you `aven;t been paying attention.I warned you a long time
ago, don't mess with mine, and I got no beef wit you. And what do I see at
de last Showcase? I go to wish Dumars luck in his match, and apparently
neither
Ace, nor Alex think Ace can wrestle, because they try to even the odds by
beating up on Dumars beforehand. We all know Papa got to put a stop to
dat.
[Legba shrugs out of the coat now, extremely worked up by what he's talking
about, reliving the instance in his mind all over again.]
PL: Extreme, the only tings I can see about you dat are even close to
extreme would be your extreme level of cowardice, and ya extreme body odor!
Papa
work in fish markets dat smell bettah den you! I-an-I not care about ya
"invasion", but when you invade my business, stick ya nose into sometin dat
don't concern you.and almost cost me m'title in the process? Now ya done
captured the FULL attention of the Jamaican Jungle Cat.
[Papa pauses, and leans into the camera lens, filling the majority of the
picture with his face]
PL: And m'tink I got a hankerin' fah sometin EXTREME! Alex.I-an-I about to
find out what goes on in your nightmares.I see you there, real, real soon!
Voice from off-camera: Xavier! XAVIER!
[The camera angle shifts to the side to show Legba's Cousin James leaning
out of the exit door.he's got a worried expression on his face]
James: Come quick! They think Dumars' condition just got worse!
PL: Sunnuvabitch! Bubmba-klaat! Alex, you and Ace bettah watch ya back, cuz
I comin' f'ya soon!
[Legba rushes back into the hospital with James as we fade to black]
=================================================
MR: Following that interview, we were told that it was just a false alarm
for Dumars. But obviously, Papa Legba making it clear that the assault by
Ace and Alex was not that of two men, and perhaps the champion ready to
make men out of them?
MR: Of course, Eric Stryker has his own concerns about what happened, and
those concerns are surrounding the involvement of "Too Cool" Chris Hopper.
It was Hopper who broke up a three count by the official to keep Stryker
from obtaining gold, and you know that there's one thing you shouldn't step
between, it's "The Millionaire Marvel" and that precious metal.
_ _ _ _ _
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`
>(( REWIND - "MILLIONAIRE MARVEL" ERIC STRYKER ))<
=================================================
[Your screen is filled with static. Suddnely, you get a scrambled,
unidentifiable image. The screen soon rights itself and the TV screen
clears to show "The Millionaire Marvel" Eric Stryker, sitting at an
impressive, oak desk. The desk is covered with various important looking
files, papers and books. Stryeker is seated, facing the camera with his
hands folded on the desk. His expression is calm but eager. He has on a
tan suit, with a white, dress shirt and a tan & black tie. The diamond
earring in his left ear sparkles as the light hits it the right way.]
STRYKER: >>a-hem<<...Ladies & gentlemen, fans and friends of the World
Wrestling Organization. I am certain that I need to introduce myself, but
to the ignorant & uninformed, I am Eric Stryker, on of the most powerful
men in the country.
This past week, I engaged in a monumental, titanic battle for the WWO
Title oof the Americas against that Carribean Cretin, Papa Legba. It was
most definitely an affair to remember...2 heavyweight giants relying only
on their strength & wits in a clash that will be memorialized in songs,
poems and limited edition DVD releases.
Yet, that honorable competition was interrupted and eventually
tarnished by one "Too Cool" Chris Hopper. Because of him, I was
denied...no, robbed of my rightful reign as the Title of Americas
champion. Hopper, I don't know who you think you are or what your feeble
mind was forcing you to do, but your actions have set in motion forces
that you cannot comprehend.
[Stryker is beginning to get worked up again. He stands up behind the
desk, resting both of his clenched fists on it as he leans forward.]
STRYKER: I may have been denied the Title of Americas, but my quest is
still young. I have enough time & more than enough resources to continue
my struggle to claim what is rightfully mine. My record speaks clearly
for itself. I am one of the greatest wrestlers in the World Wrestling
Organization. Losing that belt to that Jamaican Joke does not change that
fact, especially after Hopper stuck his insolent nose into the fray.
No, this is merely a setback similar to when JFH Corp. went bankrupt.
I will simply rebuild and bide my time.
But take note...even if you do not see me, Eric Stryker's hands are
always in the mix, manipulating people and events to my liking. So as you
watch events unfold in the WWO over the course of the next few weeks, let
this question simmer in the back of your pea-sized minds...
"I wonder what Eric Stryker has to do with all that's going on?"
The answer will most definitely surprise you.
[As an evil, malicious smirk crosses Stryker's face, the screen once
again becomes engulfed by static and the scene of Stryker's office is
gone.]
=================================================
MR: We know that Stryker has the resources, as we have seen in the war
with Papa Legba, but will he put them to use on Chris Hopper, or will he
take care of this "situation" on his own? Stryker promising a few
surprises for the fans and Chris Hopper.
MR: But with Stryker's attention now apparently focused on Hopper, that
leaves Papa Legba alone, or rather with just one target now. As we heard,
Papa Legba looking to do a little "voodoo" of his own on Alex Extreme and
Ace of Hearts.
MR: But the `voodoo' that may concern Extreme and Ace may not be coming
from Papa Legba alone. At Anarchy, team UEW was taken by total surprise
when Magnus Colby made his appearance felt in the World Wrestling
Organization, by siding against Extreme and Ace.
MR: Ace has been extremely vocal about trying to find out what Colby's
been up to. Well, on Showcase, Magnus made his presence felt again, first
observing Ace in action against Dumars, and then dropping another surprise
on his former student.
MR: Colby came out, and in effect, suggested that Ace and Extreme forget
about the UEW, and in effect forget about their past. And that past
included a long time relationship with Magnus himself. And in the new
"era" for these men, he promises a "lesson" of sorts. What will that
lesson be? We're not sure... and as you're about to find out, Ace wassn't
sure of what to make of this either when the cameras caught him backstage
in Seattle.
_ _ _ _ _
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`
>(( REWIND - ACE OF HEARTS ))<
=================================================
----------------------------------------------
Backstage Locker-room
Key Arena, Seattle Washington
Superstar Showcase
----------------------------------------------
- - -
[The scene opens at the Key Arena in Seattle, Washington deep inside a
spacious locker-room belonging to the Ace of Hearts. Seen just now walking
into the shot, Ace appears to be drenched in sweat and carrying a towel.
Still dressed in his ring attire, Ace slowly lowers himself to sit within
an overstuffed chair facing a corner table. On this table, a color
television set is on showing tonight's live broadcast of the WWO Superstar
Showcase.
Looking as if he's feeling some of the after-effects of his earlier match
with Dumars tonight, Ace brings the towel up and wipes the sweat off his
face. Immediately pulling his "Team UEW" t-shirt over his head and dropping
it to the floor at his feet, Ace wipes the sweat off his chest as he
lounges back in the chair looking to the television. As he does so, Candy
Kisses voice can be heard coming from the other room.]
Candy: "Ace, are you alright?"
[Running his hand through his long flowing locks, Ace's hand slides towards
the back of this neck to where he grimaces to it's touch.]
Ace: "I'm alright... just a little sore."
[Continuing to rub at the back of his neck as he watches one of tonight's
matches in progress. Ace's line of sight to the television is disrupted by
Candy Kisses stepping between himself and the television. Looking down to
her husband, Candy smiles as she slowly lowers herself into Ace's lap.
Placing her arm around his neck she begins to speak to him as she looks
longingly into his deep blue eyes.]
Candy: "Where did Alex go?"
[Motioning to the door as he doesn't take his eyes off the screen, Ace
answers.]
Ace: "He had some business to tend too."
[Shaking her head as if she completely understands, Candy turns to see what
Ace finds so interesting upon the television screen. Noticing the rest of
Showcase on the set, she returns her attention back to Ace.]
Candy: "You had a pretty good match out there tonight."
Ace: "Nah... I could have done much better..."
[Pausing as if thinking back to the match, Ace continues.]
Ace: "...Colby had me distracted sitting there at ringside. So it took me
far too long to put Dumars away. Plus, I should have_never_ let Papa Legba
get the drop on me after putting Dumars down!"
[Shaking her head as if she agrees with him to a point, she takes his chin
in her hand and brings his attention to her.]
Candy: "So what Colby came down to ringside and distracted you a bit, you
won the match. Plus, Dumars is a top notch caliber athlete. Here alone he's
taken Tyrone Hayes to his limits, and he's been a stand up champion
elsewhere."
[Shrugging his shoulders as if he could care less about Dumars
accomplishments here or elsewhere, Ace looks over Candy's shoulder to the
television.]
Ace: "Hell... anyone could take Hayes to his limits for he is no where near
the athlete that his cousin Warren was!"
[Noticing that Ace's not paying her attention but looking to the
television, Candy once again takes his chin in her hand and garners his
undivided attention.]
Candy: "Ace, I know its been kinda tough here in the WWO for you so far but
don't let things get you down. I mean considering that you and Alex had to
carry Franklin, Parker, and Douglas throughout this whole invasion just to
have them let you down at Anarchy. I'd say were doing pretty damn good if
you ask me. Besides... were back on the winning track again."
[Shaking his head as he listens to Candy, he just doesn't seem too awfully
enlightened by her comments. Noticing this she continues...]
Candy: "Look Ace, if it's Legba getting the drop on you..."
[Finally garnering his full attention, Ace looks at her and smiles as he
realizes that she's only trying to cheer him up.]
Ace: "Don't worry about Papa Legba, I'll tend to his ass in due time for
sticking his nose where it don't belong."
[As Ace leans forward he kisses Candy gently on the cheek for her attempt
to cheer him up.]
Ace: "What would I do without you?"
Candy: "Let's never find out!"
[Smiling seductively at Ace's loving words, she returns the kiss to her
husband. As the two lovingly embrace, they are both taken aback by the
sounding off of the bells and the rifle-shots upon television over Candy's
shoulder.]
Ace: "What the hell..."
[Turning just in time to see the UEW 1996-2001 RIP graphic flash upon the
arena's jumbo-tron, Ace is shocked to see Magnus Colby standing within the
center of a WWO ring.]
Candy: "It's Magnus."
Ace: "Finally... he's come to set the record straight!"
[Sitting back in the chair in anticipation of Colby's remarks, Ace pats
Candy lightly upon the knee as he listens intently to Colby speak of his
past accomplishments in the IWC and UEW. ]
Ace: "Here we go..."
[Finishing his sentence for him, Candy smiles as she looks to the screen.]
Candy: "...this ought to be good."
[As Colby begins talking about the links between the WWO and the UEW and
adapting to each others ways. Ace just smiles and shakes his head looking
very happy as he's waiting for Colby to lower the boom upon the WWO!.]
Ace: "Come on Colby set 'em straight..."
[Listening as Colby turns to make his remarks upon signing over some of the
UEW contracts so that they could compete in the WWO, Ace's face drops as
Colby mentions the word "saddled."]
Ace: "What the hell was that all about?!?"
[Sitting more upright in his chair, Ace gives Candy a short look of
confusion just before he glares back towards the television screen. As he
does so Colby has just berated Franklin, Parker, and Douglas and is
currently pretty much calling the Ace of Hearts out. Ace, jaw dropped in
utter shock, looks to the television screen as he repeats the key points of
Colby's words only seconds after he speaks them.]
Ace: "Disappointment?!?... a flop???... your footsteps, your advise, you'd
make me a star... come up short???... a disaster???"
[Not believing that his friend, his mentor, could be calling him out on WWO
nation-wide television in this way. Ace looks not only shocked but totally
let down that his friend and mentor could feel this way about him. Shaking
his head in utter disbelief, Ace just stares at the television screen as if
his heart is being ripped completely out from within his chest.]
Ace: "Class is in session... and he's taking me back to school???"
[Shaking his head as if he can't believe his ears, Ace's face is a mask of
disappointment as Colby drops the microphone on the television set and
leaves the ring. Turning to look to Candy in complete and utter disbelief,
Ace is for once completely speechless. Not believing what he just
witnessed, Ace lowers his head in dissapoinment and places it within his
hand. Candy, gently stroking at Ace's hair with one hand, pats him gently
upon the back with the other as the scene slowly begins to fade to black.]
=================================================
MR: As I said, if there's anyone who knows what Colby's up to, it's Colby
himself, and it seems that he's not ready to share his thoughts with
anyone, not even his closest friends and one-time allies...
_ _ _ _ _
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`
>(( REWIND - "MR. EXCITEMENT" ALEX EXTREME ))<
=================================================
[The camera opens to Alex Extreme sitting on a chair in front of a WWO
backdrop. Alex, wearing a UEW cap, a Chicago Bears' Mike Brown jersey, and
blue jeans, looks into the camera with a bewildered look on his face...]
AE: For once, I don't even know where to start.
[Shakes his head in disbelief...]
AE: I guess I'll start with the my opponent next week, Miguel Quesada...
[He stops, pauses, and suddenly has a puzzled look on his face...]
AE: Isn't that the editor in chief of Marvel Comics? Or was he the
President
of some small Spanish speaking country in the Carribean?
[A camerman says something to Alex who smirks...]
AE: Smooth as Silk? What the hell kind of nickname is that? Tell the
truth...
[Alex pauses for a moment...]
AE: He's gay isn't he?
[The camerman says something else as Extreme nods...]
AE: Apex's kid brother eh? Yeah, well maybe if I put this brat in the
hospital, Apex'll quit ducking someone he knows will whup his ass. Oh
speaking of ass whuppings...
[He pauses and gives a stern look to the camera...]
AE: Papa Legba. Son, you have a very bad habit of sticking your nose where
it
doesn't belong. That beatdown Ace and were giving to Dumars had nothing to
do with you. Yet, there you were not once but twice. And you wonder why I
tried to cost you that title of yours?
[Alex sighs...]
AE: Really I could careless about you or your precious title. I'm here to
hunt big game and get after guys like Thrasher, Hudson, Hayes. You want to
keep what you have have? The heed my words: stay out of my way! That goes
double for "Too Tubby" Chris Hopper.
[He pauses for a moment...]
AE: Actually more than double considering Hopper's size and all. Hopper,
isn't there a corner booth at the local Dairy Queen calling your name or
something? Shouldn't you be checking to see if you sat on Marley or Lewis?
Aren't the sumo world championships starting next week in Japan? Everytime
I
show up some place to wrestle, must you follow? Do you really wish to get
your ass kicked that bad or you just trying to follow the REAL Alpha Male's
lead while begging for some nose bleed pie? Tell you what Chris...
[He pulls out his wallet, picks out a bill, puts his wallet back in the
pants, and holds up a 50 dollar bill...]
AE: 50 bucks. You just get out my way, go down to the all you can eat
Chinese
buffet, gouge yourself to death, and you can have it? Deal?
[Extreme picks up the 50 and puts it back in his pants pocket...the
cameraman
says something to Extreme. Alex sighs and nods in agreement...]
AE: You're right, I am f'n hostile today. And you know why? Because at
Anarchy my best friend in the entire business comes out fights for the
other
side! Then taking it a step further, he comes on Showcase firin' on me and
Ace like we're a bunch of amateurs no less! Yes, with friends like Magnus
Colby, who needs enemies?
[Extreme gets up and walks toward the camera practically butting his face
up
against it...]
AE: Jesus H. Christ Magnus, I'm not that inbred Chris Hopper--I'm you're
friend--hell, friend since childhood no less! I don't know what's gotten
into
you but let me make something clear: I won't let you screw things up for me
here. I don't want to fight you but if I have to, I will. Please, don't
make
this Ides of March 1998 all over again. You weren't a match for me then so
how you think you can handle me now is beyond me.
[Extreme stops for a moment after thinking about what he's said...]
AE: Look, I don't know what you're getting at but just remember that Ace
and
I, we're your friends--pretty much always have been. On the days of your
biggest trumiphs, I've been as happy as if they were my own. Just think
about
that next time okay?
[Extreme backs up and looks at the camerman...]
AE: Well I've said all I needed to say except one thing, in the end, guys
like Quesada, Legba, and Hopper, they'll lose. Why? Because I'm Alex
Extreme
and their not.
It's just_that_simple.
[Extreme walks off the screen and the shot fades...]
=================================================
MR: Obviously, Alex has to be looking out for the TOTA champ, but you've
got to wonder what kind of loop he's been thrown for with the Colby
interview. Leave it to someone like Magnus to completely throw two men
who have been throwing the WWO for a loop since their foray into the
federation.
MR: And as we said, nobody knows what Colby's up to, except for Magnus
himself. But as you'll see, even Magnus has been thrown for a surprise on
occasion, and I think his upcoming match with the WWO-signee, the Guardian
may be one of those surprises...
_ _ _ _ _
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`
>(( REWIND - MAGNUS COLBY ))<
=================================================
(As the scene opens up, we see the inside of a rather ordinary looking
office. We can see three walls of this room, and can see that these walls
are covered with pictures that show various wrestling matches. Also
mounted on the wall are several replica wrestling titles. The majority of
the room is dominated by a large oak desk. Seated behind this desk is
the large muscular frame of Magnus Colby. He is wearing an expensive
looking tan suit.
Magnus sits behind the desk sitting through paperwork on his desk,
seemingly oblivious to the camera watching him. We see him reading over
and signing several documents. Finally, we see him pick up a sealed
envelope.)
Colby: Hmm. This should be interesting.
(The camera zooms in, allowing us to see the letters WWO on the outside
of the WWO. As Magnus starts opening the envelope, the camera pulls back
a bit so that we can see his face again. A stern look crosses Magnus'
face and Magnus crumples up the piece of paper and throws it across the
room. He picks up the phone on his desk, and we see him dialing it.)
Colby(Into the phone): Stone please... This is Magnus Colby... Yes, like
the cheese... No, he's not expecting me, tell him it's a matter of utmost
importance... Yes, I can hold.
(Magnus taps his desk impatiently, the furor in his eyes is still quite
obvious. After several long moments, Magnus pushes a button on his desk
and then hangs up the phone.)
Speaker: Thank you for holding. All circuits are busy at this time.
Please continue to hold and your call will be answered in the order in
which they were received. Thank you for choosing WWO. Simply the Best.
(From out of the speaker "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" can be heard. At
this point, Colby grows even more angry. He slams a button on the desk
again and we here the song abruptly cut out, replaced by a dial tone and
then the sound of dialing.)
Speaker: WWO, we're Simply the Best, how can I help you?
Colby: I need to speak to Mr. Stone right now.
Speaker: Who is this?
Colby: This is Magnus Colby.
Speaker: I'm sorry sir, Mr. Stone is busy at the moment, can I take a
message.
Colby: You tell Stone that he needs to call me immediately.
Speaker: Can I ask what this call is in regards to?
Colby: Stone should know. We had a deal.
Speaker: I'll tell him you called sir. Thank you for calling and have a
happy holiday.
(Colby slams a button again on the desk. He then gets up and storms out
of the room, effectively ending this scene.)
=================================================
MR: Could Colby have been expecting to come into the WWO and not have to
worry about a few undercard matches? Or is there something more that was
in that envelope of his? Unfortunately, we're still not allowed to get in
touch with President Stone due to his condition, and Magnus Colby refused
to elaborate on what it was that had him so upset on the video tape.
MR: And there's also some upset teams in the World Wrestling Organization.
After Anarchy, it was announced that Mike Horan was going to be taking over
the division vice-presidency. Well, we knew that he was walking into a
major challenge, it was first Tracy Hudson and then Dave Olvera who failed
to keep some control on the division. And it seems that a few individuals
had plans on causing Vice President Horan a few problems for his early
tenure.
MR: And the first on that list is none other than Louie the Lip, the
bodyguard and sidekick for the WWO tag team champions, Vegas Connection.
It seems that Louie had found time to do some moonlighting, as a wrestling
referee. That's right folks, it's apparently true, that Louie the Lip is
now an officially recognized pro-wrestling referee with the state of
Nevada.
MR: With that knowledge, Louie decided to make his services known, as he
took over the officiating duties, after some apparent badgering of VP
Horan, of the Canadian Legacy-Dark Haven tag team contest. And that
didn't sit well with Don Cameron, the manager for Les Canadians.
MR: And it got even worse, as Louie did everything in his power to try to
cost the Canadians the contest. Yet it seemed that no matter what Louie
did, the Canadians weren't going to give up without a fight... until once
again, Louie stepped in and after some questionable calls, counted a quick
pinfall against the Canadians.
MR: You would think that the manager of the Canadians would have been
upset about this turn of events, but as your about to see, it seems that
Cameron has his own opinions on what exactly happened...
_ _ _ _ _
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`
>(( REWIND - CANADIAN LEGACY ))<
=================================================
[The door closes loudly. With the camera spinning around, we see Don
Cameron, leaning up against the corner of the dressing room. With his navy
blue suit, he holds his gold cane in his right hand, gently shifting his
weight to it.
Alain MacDonald and Marc Denis sit in their regular chairs, wearing their
post-match suits. The huge MacDonald leans back in his chair, a non-subtle
smile on his face. His short blonde hair is slicked back. The small Denis
is leaning forward in his chair, a look of concentration on his face. He's
still clean shaven, his dark brown hair mussed up after showering after the
match against Dark Haven.
MacDonald suddenly leans forward and stands up. He looks towards Cameron,
who nods, using his arms to show the big man that the floor was his.
MacDonald starts to chuckle, as Denis looks up at him.]
MacDonald: "It looks like little Louis the Lip has shown the world exactly
what has been known all along."
[That gets a small chuckle out of Denis as he looks back up. Cameron steps
forward.]
Cameron: "What's been on their mind when they realized you meant to do
exactly what you said you would do? Fear. Total dark and loathing fear. It
begins with Louis the Lip. Vegas Connection, the WWO Tag Team Champions
knew just what this match meant."
MacDonald: "With that Brono Lubbich-type counts, forgetting what number
comes after two... Little Louis, my little WWO referee... you just opened a
door. A door your VC didn't want open."
[Cameron puts a smile on his face, looks at the faces of both Canadian
Legacy... and the smile disappears.]
Cameron: "Listen to me, boys. Alain, you've got it right. You just don't
send someone out to mess up matches for the hell of it. Louis the Lip knew
exactly what he was doing, and he was doing it because VC is scared. Out
and out scared of the team you've become. They're in fear, but they're
making it quite obvious... lining themselves up against weaker opponents."
[He starts to walk around the room, using the cane every once in awhile.]
Cameron: "I told you to forget everything, and you did that against Dark
Haven. You showed the world who the better team was out there. With
everything against you, you did things the Canadian way, and that can only
mean good things for you... if you keep on the same track. You're showing
the world that you bleed the red and white that makes you Canadian, and
that scares everybody. It's in your blood. You go out there and you want to
prove yourselves. You don't want to just earn the respect of your
opponent... you want to shove it down their throats."
[Denis leans forward in his chair once again and stands up.]
Denis: "And there we see them... Leary and Lowbrow, sweating up to their
pits before our match. Thinking about the last time they stepped into the
ring with P.A.I.N. and matched them joke for joke. Oh, they had a grand old
time there... but now that stops."
[MacDonald suddenly looms in front of the camera, standing like a giant
over Denis.]
MacDonald: "I know you're going to watch this, Connection. I know you're
out there somewhere, still shining up your tag team belts and
congratulating yourselves while you pull off yet another joke... but..."
[A sardonic smile appears on his face.]
MacDonald: "But we know... what's on your mind. That deep, dark little itch
on the back of your mind."
[Back over to Cameron, who's gently tapping the cane in his left hand.]
Cameron: "My boys are out there knowing what they're doing... but...
Connection... you've got yourselves a little problem in Portland. Fire and
Ice, a couple of guys my boys have been bleeding with for the past five
years. Ever since Day One back in 1997, they've fought tooth and nail with
Ice and Perkins. Hell, earlier this year Perkins took me out from behind
with a club to my legs. But pain only makes you stronger. And it makes you
remember. And if you don't go into that match with your head up... they'll
make you remember that match."
[Denis is over in the corner, pulling a beer out of a small fridge. He
passes one to MacDonald, then tosses one over to Cameron. MacDonald twists
his open and takes a drink.]
Denis: "We're going to be in Portland, boys. We've got our tickets ready.
Little Louis, I hope you wear your best suit. And Leary... Lowbrow?"
[A small smile out of the corner of his mouth.]
Denis: "Good luck."
[And with that, they turn back to the small television as Cameron presses
"play" on a remote. The WWO logo pops up before a replay of Showcase begins
playing.]
=================================================
MR: I'm not sure if I'd call the Vegas Connection "scared" of the
Canadians, but the question is, with this big loss on the Canadians record,
will the Connection be willing to sign a contract with the Canadians, as
you're about to see in this video clip...
_ _ _ _ _
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`
>(( REWIND - VEGAS CONNECTION ))<
=================================================
(A classy Las Vegas dressing room. Rimshot is looking very smug indeed as
he
does some drumfills. Louie the Lip is sitting in a leather chair, wearing a
pinstripe shirt... oh, wait, that's an official WWO referee shirt! Both men
are sipping brandy out of large snifters. Louie is smoking a large cigar as
best he can given those gigantic protruding lips. Rimshot still has an
unlit
cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth. Enter Larry Lowbrow,
wearing a Lester Leary-issue Eggplant Tuxedo Tee.)
Larry Lowbrow: Know why Miss Piggy can't count to seventy?
Louie the Lip: I give up. Why?
Larry Lowbrow: Cause every time she gets to 69, she gets a frog in her
throat! Haw haw haw!
Rimshot: *rimshot*
Louie the Lip: I don't get it.
Larry Lowbrow: I'll bet you don't. But there's plenty of fish in the sea,
my
friend. Haw haw haw!
Rimshot: Ignore him, Louie. He just hasn't done a joke in a while. He
needed
to establish his lowbrow comedian gimmick.
(Louie the Lip gives an understanding nod)
Larry Lowbrow: So you're a new referee. Can things get any better? We've
already skewed the rankings so Canadian Legacy doesn't have a chance to get
those belts. Dark Haven'll be a snap, however.
Rimshot: Indeed. Larry, get some brandy.
Larry: Don't mind if I do! (pours himself a glass and sniffs it deeply,
closing his eyes) Ahh, that's the stuff.
Rimshot: Gentlemen! (lifting a glass) To chaos!
All: (lifting glasses) TO CHAOS! (all drink)
Rimshot: This ought to make the WWO a lot more interesting. And by
interesting, I mean, fun for us. (smiles) Larry, how's Lester? Is he... I
mean, with the hair.
Larry: (grimacing) Well, I did the best I could...but the way he had half
his hair shorn, I had to cut it all off for balance...
Louie the Lip: How's he taking dat?
Larry: He's getting used to it...sort of. He refuses to let me cut his
beard, though. It's like his hair is the source of his power, like that guy
in the Bible, what's his name.
Rimshot: Jesus?
Larry: No, the other guy.
Louie the Lip: Tiny Tim?
Larry: Yeah, that rings a bell. Anyway, well... it's really affecting his
personality. Maybe you should see for yourself. LESTER!
(Enter Lester Leary. He's no longer wearing a ruffle tuxedo, settling for
an
eggplant leather vest and no shirt. He is wearing eggplant coloured trunks
-
almost as if he swiped something from William Regal's closet. His belt,
dyed
eggplant, is around his waist. He is completely bald and his beard is
shaped
into an upside-down pompadour. Rimshot's jaw drops, his cigarette falling
into his lap.)
Lester Leary: I'm ready to kick some a<-BLEEP-> and drink some high-quality
alcohol! JACK!
Rimshot: Lester? What the hell happened to your tuxedo?
Lester Leary: I'm bald, boss. No bald man alive can pull off a tuxedo, let
alone a ruffle one.
(breaks down into sobs)
Lester: I'm nobody! JACK! I'm just another bald wrestler! *sob* JACK! My
personality is draining away! JACK!
Larry: Well at least you have your interjections.
Lester: But for how long, Larry? FOR HOW LONG?!
Rimshot: You gonna be alright for Fire and Ice next Showcase?
Louie the Lip: Oh, he's gonna be alright. I'll make sure o' dat. Heh heh
heh. *cracks knuckles*
Larry: Lester, we'll think of something. The fans will react no matter what
you look like. You'll get your hair back, but in the meanwhile, I've got an
idea to get you over!
Rimshot: You'd better. The money's rolling in and we can't go back to
*shudder* Casino Rama just yet. Hang on to those belts while you can. But
above all, just let come what may, cause we're only out to...
All: BREAK BACKS, AND MAKE A FEW BUCKS WHILE WE'RE AT IT!
Rimshot: Come on, boys, we just got too hip for the room.
(They leave. Fade to black.)
=================================================
MR: Larry already questioning whether or not the Canadians have the right
to challenge the champions with the outcome of the tag team encounter. Of
course, they're going to have to worry about themselves this week, as they
go up against the team of Michael Ice and Alex Perkins, Fire and Ice, in a
tag team championship match.
MR: And the question is going to linger though, why, if Les Canadi..
Canadian Legacy is not viable tag title contenders, why do the Vegas
Connection have no problem defending the belts against Fire and Ice?
After Anarchy, you would have given the title shot almost assuredly to the
Romanis.
MR: However, that's not how it turned out, and it didn't leave the gypsys
too happy, and they attempted to take their frustrations out on Drs. Ow and
Practice. It was the Romanis, who were either up to random tricks, trying
to take PAIN out, with a fireball in their match-up with Damage,
Incorporated.
MR: Unfortunately for the Romanis and Damage, Incorporated, it was DI who
got caught with the blast, and PAIN used the opportunity to score a
victory. However, once again, it's not the outcome that really seems to be
the crux of the matter here, it's the antics themselves.
MR: Well, Kimberly Campbell caught up with the Romanis, to find out why
they went to such measures in Seattle.
_ _ _ _ _
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`
>(( REWIND - THE AMAZING ROMANIS ))<
=================================================
{Unaired footage from Showcase, as indicated by the "Superstar Showcase"
chyron in the lower corner (duh). Kimberly Campbell is still backstage by
the garage doors when for the second time in the evening, she is buzzed by
a certain pair of gypsies on motorcycles.}
KC: "Niklos! Hold up! Ravnos! Whoah! Whoah!"
{Amazingly, the Romanis stop and stare ate her.}
RR: "'Whoah?' Do I look like a horse to you?"
KC: "I just wanted to ask you about what happened out there tonight. How
could you--"
NR (interrupting): "What happened tonight? I'll tell you what happened.
PAIN got lucky; it's as simple as that."
RR: "It's more than that, actually. They've *been* lucky. Ever since we
first entered the WWO, we've watched PAIN experience the longest streak of
_baxt_ I've ever seen. It should've been Ow or Mal getting flambï¼¥ tonight,
not that _dilo_ Sanders. From their fluke win over us in the four-way
match, to their cheap, interference-plagued victory in the tournament semi-
finals, right up to the finals itself, PAIN has been nothing but
unbeliveably lucky."
NR: "The only thing that hasn't gone their way has been losing the titles
to the Connection, but that didn't stop them from rolling over them during
their Anarchy War Games match. Tonight was just one more example."
KC: "Ok, but that still doesn't explain what you were trying to do
tonight."
RR: "What we were doing, _gaja_, was finally taking matters into our own
hands. If PAIN lost that match, then they would've been knocked out of
title contention. But thanks to their _baxt_, they won yet again."
KC: "If it makes any difference, PAIN isn't getting the next title shot."
NR: "Oh? Who is?"
{Kimberly hesitates a minute, knowing the anwser won't be well-received.}
KC: "Um... Fire and Ice?"
{To their credit, neither of the Romanis' heads explode, although Niklos's
looks to be reaching critical mass. Ravnos, as usual, is much more calm
about the situation.}
RR: "I... see. Well, they certainly deserve it. After all, they won their
big match at Inquisition, then beat us on Showcase, and wow did they thrash
us at Anarchy. Plus they already hold a non-title victory over the
Connection anyway. Oh, wait. They didn't do any of that, did they?"
NR (through clenched teeth, valiantly attempting to maintain control):
"Not... even... close."
RR: "Oh, yes, that's right. *WE* were the ones who did all that, weren't
we? Clearly we need to be more assertive, then. After all, we have to deal
with the handicap of steamrolling through any team the revolving Tag VPs
put in front of us. I can see how that's been holding us back. Niklos?"
NR: "Yes, _prala_?"
RR: "It's time we made our own _baxt_. Or at least some _prikaza_ for
others."
{Eerily, that seems to calm Niklos down a notch; Kimberly, meanwhile, is
somewhat clueless.}
KC: "Can I ask what that might mean?"
NR: "What it means, _gaja_, is that the big bad Jamacian isn't the only one
around here who knows his way around a curse."
RR: "PAIN, you've been lucky all year -- time for a little karmic payback.
As for the rest of the WWO tag teams, their _prikaza_ will come in time,
until only the Connection is left standing. These gypsies have stopped
playing nice, Kimberly. It's time for a Treatment. Let's go, _prala_."
{Before Kimberly can ask another question, she's drowned out by revving
motorcycle engines and the Romanis take off into the night.}
=================================================
MR: The Romanis with a warning for PAIN, and in effect, the entire World
Wrestling Organization tag team division. But it seems that PAIN went
about their own way to try to find out what the Romanis were up to.. and it
seems that the future may not be to the liking of the Doctors...
_ _ _ _ _
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`
>(( REWIND - P.A.I.N ))<
=================================================
[We open up to an exterior view of an old brownstone building. Here
in the downtown section of a small city, this otherwise unremarkable
place is marked with a large sign.
MADAME GRUMMEN - MYSTIC FORESEER
And outside this building stands Dr. Mal Practice MD and Dr. Ohno Ow,
the Physicians Advocating Innovative Neoprocedures. Mal and Ohno
wear the usual lab coats, and attire specific to their tastes. Mal
has a clipboard in hand, and he speaks.]
Dr. Mal Practice MD: Greetings once again to all of my devoted
Practisites. Today, Ohno and I are going on an exposee, to uncover
the truth about Gypsies. That being, that they are all miserable
no-good swindling liars who should all be put out of their misery,
and more importantly, OUR misery.
Dr. Ohno Ow: This LADY, say she, GYPSY for-tune tell-ER. We find out
if she, LIE.
[PAIN enters the house. The front door is rimmed with hanging beads,
which trigger a bell when stepped through. A velvet curtain must be
passed through next, leading to a round chamber surrounded by
multi-colored velvet curtain. The lighting is dim, and only a table
and crystal ball occupy the center of the room.
An upper-middle-aged lady steps in, clad in loose, flowing
multi-colored clothing. The dark-haired woman smiles (showing
crooked teeth), and speaks in a distinct Eastern European accent.]
Madame Grummen: Velcome, velcome! I am Madame Grummen, and I have
the Gift of foresight. Velcome to my humble parlor. And you are...
DMP: Ah, so you don't know? I see.
[Mal gets a self-satisfied grin. Whether or not she can see the
future, Madame Grummen has no difficulty in seeing the present, and
interpreting what she sees. She instntly gives up on Mal, and
focuses on Ohno.]
MG: And you, my friend, I sense a strong aura with you.
DOO: And I, with YOU.
DMP: What in Kevorkian is THAT supposed to mean?
DOO: She is, LEGIT-imate. Actual can tell, FUTURE with, psychic
POWERS.
DMP: Uhhhh... whaaaa? Ohno, you haven't had any coffee in almost
forty minutes, are you sure you're feeling okay? We've come to
expose this toddering wench for the useless sack of Gypsy malarkey
that she is.
[And then, everything seems to pause a minute. The camera rotates
around Ohno in a Martix-esque effect, and we end up with an extreme
close-up of the one-eyed Chinese man.]
DOO: Do not DOUBT. For my, MOTHER was seer in, CHINA. She had
psy-CHIC, power and, from her I learn how to SENSE, the GIFT. This
lady, I sense the GIFT. She have it. We can LEAVE her, alone now.
She on UP and up.
[Another pause as we revert to normal camera view. An awkward moment
of silence, then...]
DMP: Have you totally cracked?! Science proved those stupid powers
don't exist, it's another typical trick of stupid Gypsies to prey on
the weak-minded. I thought you were stronger than that, Ohno.
[Uh oh. Ohno looks very upset.]
DOO: You MOCK, my MOTHER?!
DMP: Uhhhhhhh... no, no, of course not. I'm only mocking the Gypsies
for being a pack of lazy gadabouts who don't want to work then throw
a "poor me" pity party all over the place as they beg for money and
steal the rest.
DOO: That might be, true of ROMANIS, but this lady is, NOT true of.
I sense GIFT. If you smart you, watch your tounge. I will, LEAVE
you alone, MADAME. So sorry.
[Ohno bows and walks out, and Mal just looks after him stunned. Then
he turns to the woman.]
DMP: Alright, you may have my partner snowed, but I can prove you're
a fake. Look at this fake crystal ball. It's probably made of
plastic.
[Mal hefts the ball and drops it. SHATTER!]
DMP: Uhhhh... cheap glass! That's gotta be it. And actual Gypsies
roam around instead of settling...
MG: My caravan vas hunted and killed by soldiers! Heartless men like
you. I have to come to America, vas nothing left in my lands vith
Gypsies being persecuted. Leave now!
DMP: Oh, did we persecute you for being lazy shysters who don't want
to work? Well, BOO HOO. Gypsies are worse than the Vegas
Connection, at least those idiots have an excuse to act like fools,
to entertain people. You idiots are born fools, through years of
fool-on-fool inbreeding.
MG: Vhy do you hassle an honest voman?
DMP: I'm not. I'm hassling a Gypsy. Honesty and gender distinction
don't come into play, because Gypsies have neither.
MG: I try to share The Gift vith believers, and you would barge in
here in that ridEEculous outfit and haunt me? Vell...
[Again, there is a pause. The camera rotates around Madame Grummen,
eventually coming to a stop with a close up of her eyes, which are
flamingly angry.]
MG: ... MAY SOMETHING EVEN MORE RIDICLOUS THAN YOU COME TO HAUNT YOU
NIGHT AND DAY, UNTIL YOU LEARN RESPECT!
[And we go back to normal camera view. Mal starts laughing.]
DMP: HA HA HA! Is that some scary curse? Ooooooooohh... My work
here is done.
[And with that, Mal walks out. Back to exterior view.]
DMP: Well, my devoted and sensible Practisites, we sure showed that
thing. Yet another Gypsy exposed for the fake it is, through
embarrassment and humiliation. I feel better about myself already.
The Doctors Are Out!
=================================================
MR: As if dealing with the Romanis weren't enough of a problem, now to
bring a curse upon himself? And I know where you think the punchline
should go, but we'll try to avoid that situation. But folks, a man who
has endeared himself to be the punchline of many jokes and insults in the
World Wrestling Organization, finally got a measure of revenge on Showcase.
MR: Ever since the arrival of Holy Roller and the R.A.P.E. followers,
Johnny Calhoun, long time WWO ring announcer was verbally berated by Harry
Paumwelle, the spokesman for R.A.P.E. So when "Brother Harry" announced
that Holy Roller was still recuperating from Anarchy, we thought that would
be it for RAPE for the night.
MR: However, it seemed that "Brothers Pat and Orel" had different ideas,
as they attacked Showtime Rick Marley, in an effort to do what they could
for their fallen leader. And in the meantime, Paumwelle continued his
verbal tirade against Johnny Calhoun.
MR: Well Johnny finally had enough it seems, and after nailing Paumwelle,
threw the spokesman back in the ring, and Marley connected with the
"Limelight" on Paumwelle and pinned him for the victory in the handicapped
match. So while he didn't defeat Roller, Marley scored a big victory for
the fans of the World Wrestling Organization.
MR: Until that victory was interrupted by Lion Tamer, who came out of the
crowd and attacked Marley with his weapon of choice, the plunger that Tamer
had been carrying around with him as his showpiece. Well, needless to
say, as you're about to see, Marley wasn't too thrilled with the ambush, or
the `weapon' of choice.
_ _ _ _ _
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`
>(( REWIND - "SHOWTIME" RICK MARLEY ))<
=================================================
[The scene cuts back to Showcase...]
Calhoun: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR WINNER OF THE MATCH.... "SHOWTIME"
RICK MAAARLEEEEY!!!
[The crowd erupts as Calhoun then raises Marley's hand overhead and the
two men show a sign of respect, as they then tap fists, when suddenly,
out of the crowd...]
MR: LION TAMER!!!
SB: With his favorite trophy!
MR: Tamer in the ring.. and Johnny bailing!! And Marley back around..
and DRILLED!! Tamer just nailing Marley from with that plunger right
to the midsection.. and into dragon sleeper!!! Tamer locking Marley in
the dragon sleeper!!
[Indeed Tamer has Marley locked up in the Dragon Sleeper, and cinches
back on the hold, as the referee tries to pull Tamer off, but it's
almost as Tamer has a vice on "Showtime", and refuses to let the hold
go.]
SB: Never turn your back on anyone... I'll bet J.C. set him up for
that!
MR: You're reaching Sam!
SB: You watch, I'll bet!
MR: But Tamer with that sleeper submission on Marley, and he's
refusing to let it go! Why did Tamer...
SB: Who cares why, as the how's are so much more fun.
[A large green "PAUSE" appears on the screen in block lettering as the
camera
pans back to reveal "Showtime" Rick Marley seated on a folding chair in an
empty gym. Marley is wearing a black "Welcome to the next level" t shirt,
and black warm-up pants with a white stripe up the sides. His hair is
pulled
back into a tight ponytail as he sits with the chair reversed. Marley
smirks, shaking his head as he looks back over his shoulder at the camera.]
"I don't know what it is about me. I just seem to attract random
violence."
[Marley shakes his head slightly as he continues.]
"I mean, there I was, in the middle of the ring in Kemper arena. Johnny
had
just tossed Crazy Religious Fanatic #3 into the ring for the end of what
was
one of the more satisfying beatings that I've administered in my career,
and
here comes Lion Tamer with a plunger."
[Marley pauses with a look of bafflement on his features.]
"Not a steel chair. Not a baseball bat. Not a sledgehammer. A plunger.
Like you'd use on a toilet. Instead, he used it to beat the hell out of
me,
which lends itself to the always eloquent question:
HUH?
Now 'Tamer, I understand that your mommy and daddy didn't deal with things
in
a normal way when you were little. It's perfectly normal for a little kid
to
see mommy kissing Santa Claus...it just normally doesn't happen outside of
every department store you visit as a child. It's normal for your parents
to
want you to have friends, not for your daddy to tie porkchops around your
neck so that the dog would play with you. Throw in the fact that your Mom
had a head like Sputnik...vaguely round, but quite pointy in parts, your
pediatrician was the guy that taught Drs. Practice and Ow medicine, and
that
your father felt that toilet paper was the work of the devil, and it's no
wonder that a plunger attack seems like the thing to do for you.
Now, I'm normally a pretty forgiving guy. I let it go when Alex Extreme
hit
me in the ribs with that lead pipe...I figured that I'd be across the ring
from the junkie at one point or another.
I let it go when Mikey Quesada jumped me after my match with The
Millionaire
Moron...after all, just BEING Miguel Quesada is more punishment than I
could
give him.
But a plunger...that's the sort of thing that's too much to get over...and
don't think I didn't try. Now, I don't want to go into some sort of
bizarre
war, where we each attack one another with odd bathroom sanitary equipment.
Let's face it, the LAST thing anyone this side of Latex Lex wants to see is
a
plumber's snake used as an offensive weapon.
What you're gonna get, 'Tamer, is a beat down. Plain and simple. A lion's
den doesn't have a thing on where you're going.
Welcome to the next level.
[The scene fades as Marley turns back to the screen, rewinding the attack
to
watch it again...]
=================================================
MR: As I said, I'm not sure if Marley's more upset at Tamer for attacking
him, or for what he attacked with. As Marley noted, he hasn't made any
issue iwth his run-in with Miguel Quesada, but it seems that this one may
just start a war, and how this one ends, no one can say for sure, but
they're going to remember how it started.
MR: And speaking of Miguel Quesada, it appears that for the young man from
Miami, there are still a few wounds from Anarchy that need to be taken care
of. We talked earlier about the Apex/Dark Soul-Hudson/Detson encounter,
but what we didn't mention was the fact that it was Miguel Quesada who ran
"interference' to help take Nate Knowitall out of the picture.
MR: Perhaps, a reconcilliation is coming between the Quesada brothers and
Dark Soul? But right now, that may be the last thing on Miguel's mind..
he's got more important worries, such as Nate Knowitall and the return
of... well, you'll understand when you see this clip.
_ _ _ _ _
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`
>(( REWIND - MIGUEL QUESADA ))<
=================================================
::::: The scene opens in a hotel room in Portland, Oregon. This one doesn't
seem too decorated. Couple plants, few pictures, and a shrine to Clyde
Drexler (it was already there.. weird.). On the couch in the hotel room
sits "Smooth as Silk" Miguel Quesada. Only, it doesn't look like Miguel.
Instead of his usual dirty blonde hair, it's been dyed jet black, and it's
not combed. Just kinda lying around, with some strands of hair lying in
front of his face. He's wearing a plain, tight black shirt, and blue jean
pants. He has a remote control in his hand, but doesn't seem to be searchin
for anything on, as his eyes are fixated on the tv and his hand isn't
moving. Out of nowhere, a shoe comes flying through the air and clocks
Miguel on the head. Not an ordinary shoe, but a steel-toed boot. Miguel
gets a shocked look on his face, and collapses onto the floor. :::::
*****HOURS LATER*****
Voice: Miguel! Hey! Miguel! Are you ok?!
::::: Miguel's eyes slowly begin to open as he looks up and sees a blurred
vision of a woman standing over him. The vision clears and he sees Stacy
Werner, wearing a tight red shirt and a black mini-skirt. :::::
MQ: S.. st... Stacy?
SW: Yeah, Miguel. It's me. Oh my god! Are you ok?!
MQ: Wh.. what happened?
SW: A steel-toed boot just clocked you in the head!
::::: Miguel starts to slowly get up, while holding the back of his head
and wincing in pain. :::::
MQ: How did a steel-toed boot hit me in the head?
SW: It's a funny story. There was a knock on the door, and I went and
answered it, because it seemed you were to into the movie to move. Well,
there was this kid at the door. He was wearing your t-shirt, you know, the
"Smooth as Silkk" one, and some camouflage pants. He said he knew you, so I
let him in. He came in, took off one of his boots, and just threw it right
at you for some weird reason.
MQ: A kid?
SW: Yeah, a kid. He's still here, actually. He refused to leave until he
talked to you.
MQ: Alright, I'll talk to him. Just gimme a few minutes to regain my
composure.
::::: Miguel starts to walk into the bathroom. As soon as he flicks on the
light he looks into the mirror, and seems surprised. :::::
MQ: STACY!!!
::::: Stacy comes rushing into the bathroom. :::::
SW: What's wrong?!
MQ: What the hell happened to my hair?!
SW: You don't remember? You dyed it yesterday.
MQ: I dyed it?! Why the hell would I do that?! Especially black!!
SW: You said you were sick of your natural hair color and you wanted
something different. You grabbed the black dye.
MQ: God.. what the hell was I thinking?
::::: Miguel and Stacy hear something break out in the living room. :::::
MQ: What the hell was that?!
SW: I guess it's still that kid.
MQ: Oh yeah, that kid. Ok, I'll go talk to him now to get him out of here.
Why are you letting strange kids in here anyways? I don't care if they say
they know me or not. They're probably all lying.
::::: Miguel walks out of the bathroom and into the living room. He sees
the kid standing there wearing what Stacy described him in, still wearing
only one shoe. :::::
MQ: HOW THE HELL DID YOU FIND ME?!?
Kid: I'S FINDED YOU BECUZ I'S SMOOTH AZ SILKK!!!
::::: Stacy walks out and sees Miguel screaming at the kid. :::::
SW: I take it you really do know him.
::::: Miguel sighs in disbelief. :::::
MQ: Stacy, meet Zac.
ZM: I'S NOT ZAC!!! I'S SMOOTH AS SILKK!!! REED MY SHIRTS!!! HOOTIE HOO!!!
MQ: Whatever, Silkk. Why are you here?
SILKK: TO BE'S YOU MANGER!!!
MQ: Stacy's my manager.
SILKK: SHE'S DRTY HO-BAG I'S MANAGER!!!
::::: Stacy seems none-to-thrilled about that last remark, noted by her
facial expression, and her picking up the attack boot seemingly ready to
throw it at "Silkk's" head. :::::
SW: What did you just say?
MQ: Don't worry about him, baby. He's just a kid.
SILKK: I'S A KIDD TAT KICK YOU ASS!!! SUCKS IT QUESADADA!!! HOOTIE HOO!!!
MQ: Yeah, yeah. Fine, you can stay with me again. I may be able to use you,
ya never know.
SW: You're kidding me.
MQ: Don't worry, I got it under control.
SILKK: YES!!! I IS THE WINNER!!! HOOTIE HOO!!!
::::: Silkk takes off his other boot and throws it through the tv as the
scene closes. :::::
=================================================
MR: There are some things, I wouldn't wish on my own worst enemy... and
that little demon child is probably one of those at the top of the list...
And folks, we've talked about the WWO TOTA Title defense, but there was
another title defense on Showcase, and that was the WWO International
People's Championship.
MR: What many people may not realize, is that with the title defense, "The
Problem Child" Chris Stringer, has now become the longest reigning IP
champion in the WWO's history. Quite an accomplishment for one of the most
storied belts in the World Wrestling Organization.
MR: And trust the Problem Child to celebrate in... well his own fashion..
_ _ _ _ _
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>(( REWIND - "PROBLEM CHILD" CHRIS STRINGER))<
=================================================
[Cut to just outside of Chris Stringer's Holiday Inn hotel room -- yep,
Chris still doesn't have a house yet -- where we see Mackey nattily attired
in a WWO polo shirt, looking every bit the second-string wrestling
interviewer. He looks like he wants to say something, so let's listen to
him, shall we?]
Mackey Jay: I'm standing here outside the room of "The Problem Child"
Chris Stringer...
[We said that, Mackey. Move on.]
MJ: ... the International People's Champion, but not by much. Once again,
the wily champion had to pull out all the stops to escape with a win, and
his title, against Matt Cole. And I'm going to go in and see if I can get
a few words from the champ...
[With that, Mackey opens the door.... on mass chaos. It looks like there
are a good 20-30 people in the room. In one corner of the room, there are
a bunch of lights set up with technical assistants working on them, shining
on what appears to be a makeshift video or photo shoot set, featuring a
life-sized watercolor portrait of Chris Stringer. We hear a voice with a
German accent, who apparently is the director of this shindig, and he
quickly walks into the shot. The director is bald, wearing a black mock
turtleneck, and wearing sunglasses that look like swimming goggles.]
Director: Okay! Fifshteen minutz till ve shuut! I vant doz lites ready
in ten! Schnell! Schnell! Vas schnell!
[Suddenly, a brunette with a supermodel style haircut and a cut-rate lean
body storms angrily into the shot from the direction of the bathroom.]
Brunette: Gunther, there is no *bleeping* way I'm working makeup here
anymore. That little pervert tried to feel me up _AGAIN_!
[The camera pans into the bathroom, where we see Glen Peeps in a tacky
mustard yellow and lime green outfit with spatted shoes. It looks like
someone rather forcefully threw young Glen into the bathtub, as he is
holding onto his head and desperately trying to struggle out of it.]
Glen Peeps: HO! HO! HUhhhhhhh..... ow, my head....
[Cut back to Gunther and the makeup girl.]
Gunther: Listen, Sandra. Chust get him ready. I do not vant dis video to
be RRRRUNED by... (noticing Mackey Jay for the first time) Vait, who are
you?
Mackey Jay: Ummm, I'm Mackey Jay from WWO Rewind.
Gunther (sharply and very quickly): Vat are you doing heer?
MJ: I'm, ummm... here to get a few words...
Voice from off-camera: He's with me, Gunny! Don't worry, you won't even
notice him.... no one else does.
[Thankfully (perhaps), Mackey is saved by the confident, cocky and
oh-so-familiar voice of the "The Problem Child" Chris Stringer. As Mackey
walks to the back of the room, he trips over a body. Yes, a body. Don't
worry, it's still living. It's dressed in a pair of jeans, a Rob Ray
replica Buffalo Sabres jersey, has some of the dirtiest, shaggiest hair
you've ever seen, and smells of massive amounts of Jagermeister. There's
another body next to him, this one about 6'5", 340, also passed out, with a
shocking pink reverse mohawk hair do... and he's snoring heavily. Luke
Morningstar, meanwhile, is trying to catch some shuteye on a spare couch,
obviously having given up on enforcing security in this situation _long_
ago. As Mackey recovers, we hear another familiar voice... higher pitched
and much more abrasive.]
Voice #2: When I'm on the road, and I need to eat while keeping my figure
intact, I chow down on some brand-new Skinny Grrlz Soy Produx, in both Gall
Bladder Bile and Anal Leakage flavors. It gives me the energy I need
without showing up on my waistl... oh Jesus H. *bleeping* Christ who writes
this *bleeping* *bleep*????
[We look to the left, and we see Cherry Bomb at a table with an audio
technician, apparently cutting radio ad spots. From the look on the face
of the tech, the progress is somewhere between "excruciatingly slow" and
"please lop my johnson off and shoot me now."]
Audio Tech: Okay, Cherry... let's go back to the beginning....
Cherry Bomb: No, really, I *bleeping* wanna *bleeping* know, because I
ain't reading this *bleep*! It's *bleeping* *bleep*! *BLEEP*!!!
[Mackey turns away from the recording session, finally reaching the couch
where Chris Stringer is sitting, clad in his finest downtime FILA
sweatsuit, surrounded by hot girls in schoolgirl outfits. No, seriously,
he is. And he has them all in rapt attention as he finishes up a story.]
Chris Stringer: ... and that was the _last_ time I had sex in a bungee
harness.
[The girls all laugh politely, that kind of fake cheerleader laugh that
means they really don't think it's funny, but want to stay in Stringer's
good graces to angle for a paternity suit.]
CS: Now, girls, if you will excuse myself and Mr. Jay for a second... Mr.
Jay, heh, that's kind of funny... if you'll excuse me and Mackey for a few
minutes....
[The girls dutifully bounce over to the kitchen part of the room, with two
of them going to the bathroom -- or the "makeup" room -- to freshen up
their pigtails. Stringer gestures for Mackey to take a seat, and he does,
but Mackey still hasn't taken his eyes off the schoolgirls yet.]
MJ: Okay, question one: What's up with the schoolgirls?
CS: Oh jeez, Mackey, I thought you were going to start me off with
something hard. My marketing department, okay, it's Cherry, says that have
scantily clad women in a music video helps its popularity, and if you have
no rhythm, no singing voice, or no other obvious talent, you need to have
schoolgirls in it. It's just an axiom of the business, apparently.
MJ: Wait, music video?
CS: Yes, Mackey, a music video. Now that I am officially the greatest WWO
International People's Champion of all time...
MJ: Greatest of all time? That's a pretty hefty claim, I can think of a
few people who would like to dispute that with you...
CS: Check the records, MJ. I've held the belt longer than anyone else
has. I've defeated the one and only living legend of the WWO. I have
talent oozing out of my pores, I have a great sense of fashion, shine when
the limelight is brightest men want to be me, women wish they could have
wet dreams about me, and the Tyroneasaurus has been running scared from me
ever since I entered the WWO. Not that I blame him, mind you. No one in
their right mind wants to face me.
MJ: What about Matt Cole? He's been pretty eager to try to take you down
a peg...
CS: I'm not certain Mr. Cole has a right mind to be in, quite
frankly. The man's a taco short of a combination platter. But that's
neither here nor there... I've proven that he is no threat to me. In fact,
there's no one in the WWO who is a threat to take the title from me
anymore. The Quesadillas? One's going through a worse identity crisis
than Teena Brandon, the other one is nothing without his methamphetamines
-- and you can bet I'll be bringing that up to Stoney when he gets out of
the hospital in 8 or 9 months! Dark Soul? Too busy worrying about his
fantastic piece of snatch and his useless lackey to be a problem. Papa
Legba? Has enough trouble trying to stay out of jail. Steve Dumars? Went
back to sweeping floors at the Breslin Center. So what else is there for
me to do, Mackey? What else? I'm pretty, I'm famous, I'm making
money. The only other thing in the WWO I'd want is the World Title, but
seeing as Tyrone doesn't want to face anyone who could actually _challenge_
him, much less _beat_ him. I suppose I must content myself with
consolidating my marketing position and nursing my foot back to health.
MJ: What foot injury? That was little more than a ploy to get a weapon
into the match!
CS: Now, now, Mackey. No one complains when a quarterback wears a flak
jacket to protect his ribs during a football game. Why should I be
castigated for wearing a piece of gear that protects an injured foot?
MJ: I want to see the doctor's note on that foot injury personally...
anyhow, there is another question that WWO fans have been asking since
Anarchy... where's Craven?
CS: I rather imagine young William and his luscious paramour are making
the beast with two backs at a beautiful vacation spot... I believe the
crater of Mt. St. Helens, actually. I hear it's quite nice this time of
year.
MJ: So, are you and Craven still a team, or is Operation: Scorched Earth
through, or on hiatus, or what?
CS: In truth, O:SE stopped existing as soon as we took off the
fatigues. People still referred to us by that name just because the common
folk like putting people into neat little pigeonholes, or else their brains
implode. As far as I know, William will be back, but I can assure you, the
greatest International People's Champion of all time has planned for
_every_ eventuality.
[The voice of the German director, Gunther, breaks in from off camera.]
Gunther: Ah vight! Eicht minuutz until ve shuut! Everyone not in de
video... out of da RUUM! Schnell! Vas schnell!
[As Mackey walks out of the room, past the drunk friends of Luke, past the
schoolgirls, past the finally recovered Glen Peeps -- who is still trying
to put the moves on the makeup girl -- we hear the voice of Cherry Bomb.]
CB: Skinny Grrlz Soy Produx -- For those times when sticking two fingers
down the back of your throat just isn't cutting it.
[Fade to Black.]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
[Disclaimer: Any resemblance between Skinny Grrlz Soy Produx and Fatty
BouyZ Meat Snax is unintentional and probably a product of your pot-addled
imagination. Skinny Grrlz Soy Produx contain trace amounts of PCP to
increase the body's metabolism and trace amounts of Kaopectate to
facilitate bulimia. Do not mix Skinny Grrlz Soy Produx with alcohol, as it
may cause fetal birth defects, fainting spells, a deep coma, rigor mortis,
and death. If you experience these symptoms, please call the Skinny Grrlz
Soy Produx help line at 1-800-Caveat-Emptor.]
=================================================
MR: Trust Stringer to well, go for the absurd in recognition of his
reign.
And folks, we're running out of time for the evening, so it's about time we
close up the show, with the long standing segment..
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MR: And tonight, we start off with two men and one lady, who are making
for some interesting history in the WWO... we start with Ultimate Thrasher,
William Craven and Sweet Melissa. For my fellow employees with the WWO,
we'd like to wish you a good evening and we'll see you in Portland.
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>(( REWIND - ULTIMATE THRASHER ))<
=================================================
[We open on a shot of the self-proclaimed "Only Living Legend Of The WWO",
Ultimate Thrasher, sitting alone at a bar. The bar is sparsely occupied,
and Thrasher is seated down at the far end, underneath a neon Bud sign and
brooding over a bottle of Labatt Blue, far away from any other patrons. His
long blond hair is its usual rakish mess, and he wears a spiffy black Iron
Maiden "Number of the Beast" t-shirt. The waitress behind the bar walks
over to him.]
Waitress: You've been here a long time. You got problems big guy?
[Thrasher nods.]
Thrasher: Yes. And not only do I have problems, I have nothing better to do
than whine about them to some used-up skank who works in some dive in
whatever f[TV Edit]ing lumberjack colony we're in this week for $6 an hour.
Do I really look THAT Romanian??
Waitress: Well, you don't have to be such a jerk.
[Thrasher smiles at her, in that ever-so-unpleasant manner.]
Thrasher: Yes I do. Oh yes, I do. But, please, bring me another beer and
get lost.
[Thrasher turns away from her, apparently satisfied, leaving $3 on the bar,
then faces the camera.]
Thrasher: So, where the hell were the two of you last week? You pull all
that s[TV Edit] back at Anarchy, and now you just go bye-bye? What's up
with THAT? You are not, I say again, are NOT, getting away from me that
easily. Oh no, there's still quite a bit I've got to say to the WWO's
newest happy couple. And you know what? We're both going to be wrestling
next week!
[Thrasher smiles and claps his hands together, like a happy child.]
Thrasher: Wow! What a happy coincidence! You two and me, together! It'll be
just like that great summer of 2001, except that now I hate
everybody...hmm. Lion Tamer? Who the hell is Lion Tamer? Is there any
reason in particular why I should give a damn about some guy who's done
nothing but torture us with the horrific cheese-metal of Dream Theater and
get beat up a lot by Steve Dumars? Should I even bother wrestling? I don't
see why. I'm just going to the arena to check in...on my two little
friends!!
[Thrasher looks down at the floor and bursts out laughing.]
Thrasher: But I hope you guys are there. I hope you'll come out and play.
It's so fun, so fun having your career destroyed and your home wrecked, so
fun having a pitiful little paper champion and his latest batch of lackeys
and running dogs taking credit for the work of a monster. It is SO much fun
to have every fiber of your being pulsating with hatred, to wake up in the
middle of nights dreaming of murder. Billy, Missy, give me more. I want
more.
[On that note, we fade out suddenly.]
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>(( REWIND - WILLIAM CRAVEN ))<
=================================================
[Slowly fading in comes the tinkling sound of an antique music box. Bits
of brass that once struck with precision to play a rousing rendition of
the timeless classic made famous by the Phantom of the Opera, "All I Ask
of You", now twang and tick in an off-key minuet. All is black. A fact
that should catch no one off guard at this point, as accustomed as they
must be to this style of segment. The style of one man...]
WC: This hand...
[At that, a large, gnarled, and knotted hand raises to the center of the
picture plane, filling the black space with a brightly illuminated shape.
Scars slash across the wrist, bones just just a bit out of place, stiff,
calloused flesh appears cracked, making this seem the hand of a monster.]
WC: My right. It's raised in victory. Sunk in shame. Been jammed in
many a pocket. Picked a few more.
[Turning over, more detail is revealed. The back of the hand, it's
knuckles red and ripped, similarly scarred, bears thick pads of flesh.
So abused, it seems almost as if a permanent glove has found itself
grafted into place there.]
WC: This hand... This weapon. It's pulled a trigger, killed a man.
Pushed a button, fired a Stinger. Killed many more that way. Raised a
flag, celebrated victory. Set the Arabs straight in Kuwait. Struck a
blow for Democracy...
[Clenching, the hand forms a tight ball. Rounder than most fists, the
glove reasserts itself. Clearly, this is indeed a weapon. Straining,
the fist tightens further, popping and cracking.]
WC: With this hand ... I struck a blow ... this hand. In the
deathmatches. Many blows. Raining pain. Raised in victory as the enemy
fell. Money the prize, a fistfull of dollars ... sometimes Yen.
[Unclenching, rotating, the hand recieves further scrutiny. The
thumbnail is dragged from index to pinky, down the length of the smallest
finger, and back around again. Tensing, clenching, releasing, time and
again.]
WC: With this hand, I choked a man. His face turning red, he begged
with his eyes, struggling feebly. Praying with all his heart for
release. He saw fit to make trouble in my workplace. It was my job to
remove the drunks. I did it well. He found his release in the gutters,
where he belonged.
With this hand, I choked a wrestler. Half a man. He begged with his
eyes, struggling feebly. Praying with all his heart for release. He saw
fit to stand before me within the ring. It is my job to hurt people now.
I do it well. He found his release on the outside, on a stretcher.
[Taking on the quality of a claw, fingers outstretched and crooked
inwards, the hand of William Craven digs it's nails into it's own palm.
A few drops of blood appear, and are spread by further frenetic motion
put forth by the hand. A small glint appears between the index and
middle fingers. Not readily visible, it is nevertheless there. What
leakage of blood there was has already stopped, becoming a red stain on
the palm. Stigmatic in nature, this imagery adds to the already creepy
atmosphere in effect here.]
WC: With this hand, I held my infant son ... raising him up ... in
victory.
With this hand, I held a razor with a silver handle. Cutting, slashing
... I made him look just like me.
With this hand, I ousted men from power.
With this hand, I set straight the crooked minds of evil men.
With this hand, I protected my lady love ... Dearest Heart ... from a
brutal monster ... with a Heavy. Metal. Instrument.
[Tension building to a head, the hand moves quickly, deftly, that glint
moves about between the fingers. A sparkling bit of something slips
between the digits, around and around.]
WC: With this hand, I freed the maiden fair. Rescuing her from a fate
worse than death. From the mouth of madness, by her wrist, pulling her
near to the warmth of my heart...
[Winding down, the music from the unseen box slows to a tinkling, the
warped notes of "All I Ask of You" cease to sing, but rather pick and
plunk away sporadically, their music lost. From the ether comes a second
hand, small, smooth, petite, feminine. Tapering fingers arch slightly
back, as, palm down, this newcomer extends to the monster's weapon, and
is taken within it's grasp.]
WC: Sweet Melissa...
Melissa: Hmm?
WC: With this hand ... this ring ... I thee wed.
[Reappearing, the glint shows it's nature. A ring in diamonds and gold,
a ring of engagement, finds it's way between the thumb and index finger,
and slips neatly onto Melissa's hand. Fade to black. A whimpering sigh
escapes Melissa's lips. William whispers to her, hushing her sadness.
The smacking of a small kiss is heard. End.]
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>(( REWIND - FYDOR SAMSONOV [DEBUT] ))<
=================================================
(Bah. What is WWO thinking, sending these much cravenly dogs to
Fydor's home? "The Russian Bear" Fydor Samsonov I am. Do they not
understand this? Must Fydor prove himself time, after time, after--)
WWO Cravenly Dog: *grunt* Excuse me, Mr. Samsonov, but wouldn't this
be a little easier if we were to maybe have this interview outside -- in
the
open, perhaps?
WWO Yellow-Bellied Monkey: *squeeze* Yes, perhaps if we were to
have this introductory promo outside of your. home, we might be
able to harness some better lighting for the rest of The WWO roster to see
you with.
(Craven dogs I am with. How Fydor does yearn for old days, where
battles were fought one-on-one. When flashy robes took of men who
found time to put on clothes at all before the fray. Most definitely
none of this 'interviewing' shput-skeck! The Russian Bear overheard
not just two days previous, as a couple of American business welches
barking to one another when passed by, told of WENCHES joining the ranks of
professional wrestling! Bah. What is this world coming to.)
WWO Cravenly Dog: *adjusting his arm* Mr. Samsonov?
Samsonov: Yes-yes, American Dog. Fydor hears your whiny voice just fine.
The
Russian Bear has not stepped boot out of his home in one
month now, what makes you're cowardly hide think that Fydor is about to do
so for you?
(Cow-headed American. If Fydor could move his arms, he would most certainly
flatten him.)
WWO Yellow-Bellied Monkey: *pulling his face from the wall* Well,
it's just that it is kind of snug in here for all three of us. Don't
you think it would be a tad more comfortable out in the open?
Samsonov: Ah, spoiled mother's milk-sucker. You plea of comfort,
but this house is steady as they come! Why, these walls Fydor does hit are
made of solid --
WWO Cravenly Dog: -- Cardboard! You live in a CARDBOARD BOX, Mr.
Samsonov. Not quite a "house" in any respects.
WWO Yellow-Bellied Monkey: *gasp* Especially with three men in it, no less.
(Whiny, sheep-herding Whelps. Both of them. Fydor must calm himself
however. This WWO would like it not if I sent two of their interviewing
goat-lickers back with no teeth to match their manliness. Fydor now works
in
a democratic society, so Fydor will act the part. For now.)
Samsonov: What? My home displeases you spoiled fancy britches? Has Fydor
not
yet given you the tour of my steading?
WWO Cravenly Dog: Tour? Tour!? We're already hunched four inches from each
other as it is!
Samsonov: Do follow me.
(Turning my nose to the right.)
Samsonov: This be where Fydor does call his living-room.
(Turning my nose to the left.)
Samsonov: Now, this be where The Russian Bear does put up his feet
from a long days work of breathing in and out.
(Turning my nose again to the left.)
Samsonov: Har, har! And this be where on those Saturday nights, Fydor does
pleasure himself from a long and difficult week of breathing in and out.
WWO Cravenly Dog: *convulsing backwards* Oh, for the love of God!
WWO Yellow-Bellied Monkey: Wait! Don't leave me here with this guy!
Samsonov: What? Are we not comrades, WWO pig-lickers? Surely Fydor
thought he was being nothing but courteous?
WWO Yellow-Bellied Monkey: Here, just take this cam-corder and do
your interview by yourself, you Russian pervert. No way I'm going near you
now!
(As me does watch both of the yak-sniffing Americans run to their
automobile, Fydor notices that a red light from this "cam-cording"
device given to him blinks in his face. Quite annoying.)
Samsonov: *sigh* A sad day it is when The Russian Bear must do an
'interview' to better his wrestling career.
(Hmmm, must think of something intelligent to say to my WWO comrades. This
is Fydor's big moment.)
Samsonov: You are bunch of WWO Pig-Lickers!
(Har, har. Good one, Fydor. You are truly mastering your American mental
tactitionist game.)
Samsonov: Fydor has held the prestigious Zosmizna Championship Goat Head,
the coveted Yzerblesk Championship Cow Bell, and much honored Putsgekson
Championship Boot. WWO, The Russian Bear Fydor Samsonov, I am... do not
forget it. You are nothing more than American mule-ticklers -- sheep to be
crushed.
(...And Fydor will enjoy it.)
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>(( REWIND - MIDNIGHT STARS [DEBUT] ))<
=================================================
[Fade in to a WWO backdrop. We see two young men, from the waist up,
standing before us. One of them, a young fellow named Joey Spencer, is
dressed in a light blue Atari T-shirt, has short brown hair with blond
highlights, and a goofy-looking grin on his face. The other, Simon
Rhodes, appears to be a little disheveled, leaning against something;
possible a chair. He has long royal blue hair (yes, royal blue) tied
back into a ponytail, a pair of glasses with yellow lenses, and is
dressed in a black T-shirt, with the ESDJCO logo on the front, along with
the words "support your local DJ". Spencer and Rhodes compromise a young
tag team by the name of The Midnight Stars. And let's hear what they
have to say.]
JS: So, the WWO. They say they're having tryouts for tag teams here, and
being that Simon and I ply our trade in that field of -- uh -- wrestling,
we figured we'd drop on by and say hello!
[Pause. Spencer looks over at Rhodes.]
JS: Simon, are you planning on saying something?
[Rhodes merely glances at his tag team partner and picks up a styrofoam
cup of coffee from the chair.]
SR: Not in the slightest, my friend. I'm still a tad bit exhausted from
last night.
JS: Dude, I told you, we had this shoot at ten in the morning.
SR: And I am well aware of that fact. That's never stopped me from going
out late at night.
JS: Yeah, but don't you think you should've gotten some sleep?
SR: That might have been a capital idea. But to be perfectly honest,
Joey? I can't be bothered with such things right now. Go ahead, talk --
you're doing such a _marvelous_ job.
[Rhodes gives Spencer a thumbs-up and takes a sip from the cup. Spencer
turns around.]
JS: So anyway -- my name's Joey Spencer. Ol' grumpy-pants over here is
Simon Rhodes. We're part of a tag team called the Midnight Stars. Of
course, if it was up to Simon, we'd be the "out partying until the sun
comes up Stars".
SR: Joey -- you're straying from the topic.
JS: Oh, yeah -- so, anyway, we're here for a tryout. No big deal, if we
make it, it's all good. Seems like a decent place. Shoot, they gave
Simon some coffee. How could you _not_ like a place that has coffee?
[Spencer smiles broadly, as Rhodes continues to -- stand there.]
JS: Hopefully, we'll be seein' you guys soon. Nice talking to you!
[Spencer waves, then looks at Rhodes.]
JS: Dude -- wave to the people.
SR: Oh bloody --
[Rhodes half-heartedly waves as well. Fade out.]
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`
>(( REWIND - THE GUARDIAN [DEBUT] ))<
=================================================
[We open with footage from the post-Anarchy Showcase. Tracy Hudson,
surrounded by Tyrone Hayes, Todd Johnstone, Nate KnowItAll, Shelly, and
Moongirl, addresses the sold-out Key Arena in a series of clips, edited
rapidfire MTV-style, with short bursts of static between each clip.]
HUDSON: "I'm here to talk about heroes, or the WWO's lack thereof."
[Static]
HUDSON: "Ladies and gentlemen, the sad cold fact is this."
[Static]
HUDSON: "There are _no_ heroes in the WWO."
[Static]
HUDSON: "They're gone..."
[Static]
HUDSON: "And who responsible for that? YOU ARE!"
[Static]
HUDSON: "...are _no_ heroes in the WWO."
[Static]
HUDSON: "Yes, in the end, you're the ones who did this to the WWO."
[Static]
HUDSON: "And when you saw, when you finally understood what was happening,
you wanted heroes to step up to the plate to take care of things; to make
things right once more."
[Static]
HUDSON: "But there are no more heroes. All of your heroes are dead."
[Static]
HUDSON (in extreme close-up): "...no more heroes."
[Static]
HUDSON: "In the end, we're all you have."
[Static]
HUDSON: "..._no_ heroes in the WWO."
[Static]
HUDSON: "...no more heroes..."
[The shot of Hudson freeze frames as his voice echoes off into infinity.
The shot slowly dissolves into a screen full of static and white noise.
After a few seconds, the static resolves into the picture of a training
gym, of the sort rarely seen outside old movies and TV action/adventure
shows, a wrestling ring surrounded by punching bags, barbells, training
mats, and the like. The walls are covered with posters, yellowed with age,
advertising matches from years past, 'King Kong' Brody vs. Harley Race, Rey
Gato vs. Rey Dominio, Dick the Bruiser vs. Dick Murdoch, The Varsity Club
vs. The Midnight Express, 'Superstar' Billy Graham vs. Andre the Giant.]
[In the ring, the Guardian bounces his back lightly against the ropes, as
if checking their strength. The big man, muscular, stands a couple of
inches over six feet, blonde stubble from a few days growth of
beard all that's visible of his face because of the dark blue head mask
that only leaves his chin uncovered. He wears jeans and a black t-shirt
featuring the logo of the Boy Scouts of America, and from beneath his mask,
his ice blue eyes lock onto the camera.]
GUARDIAN: "It's not anything new, this tired "no more heroes" bit. It's the
type of thing that people who'd profit from a lack of heroes like to try
and convince the people around them of. If they can convince enough people
that it's true, it gives them license to do as they please, and worse,
convinces others that they can do the same."
[The Guardian gives the ropes a final bounce, and takes a couple of steps
out into the center of the ring.]
GUARDIAN: "The thing is... it's not true. It never has been. I can't make
any claim to being a hero, myself; I'm just a man, trying to do his best
and do right by other folks. It's what I've always done, and it's what I'll
do in the World Wrestling Organization..."
[The shot slowly tightens in on the Guardian's face, and the corners of his
eyes crinkle as he smiles.]
GUARDIAN: "I do know one thing, though... When a guy says "there are no
more heroes", he's not just trying to convince the rest of the world. He's
trying to convince himself; because if he can convince himself..."
GUARDIAN: "...then he won't be scared while he waits for a hero to come
along."
[The shot tightens in ice blue eyes, then cuts away with a final burst of
static.]
=================================================
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888d88888b888 888d88888b888 888 888
88888P Y88888 88888P Y88888 888 888
8888P Y8888 8888P Y8888 Y88b" "d88P
888P P888 888P Y888 "Y88888P"
(c) 2001 - World Wrestling Organization Productions
The Blueprint of the Future is laid right here...
Next Show: The Source
Articles Due: tp...@peoplepc.net
Due Date: December 4th, 2001
Top 5 Votes: dwil...@prodigy.net
Due Date: December 4th, 2001
Nominations for STB Show: w...@datasync.com
Due Date: December 15th, 2001
Next Flash Show: Live Mike (Guest Hosts: Tyrone Hayes)
Due DATE: December 5th, 2001
Flash Address: wwo_f...@yahoo.com
--
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1951-2001.
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