USXWF Returns

Trauma, 3/7/01

After some local commercial for auto sales, the screen goes black for a moment.

Then what appears to be a test signal comes up, but instead of the standard tone, we hear a deep bass drum beat begin.  Each time the drum beats the test signal shakes and static permeates the screen.  We hear the faint sound of cheering under the heavy beat.  Then the beat builds to a crescendo and ends with a thunderous guitar wail.  The screen goes completely static as the guitar wail fades.  Then through the static we can see the follow letters rising from the static and taking on a bright red color:  USXWF. There is brief moment of silence then we see a dark stage and can hear the crowd cheering.  After another moment of silence we see figures on and around the stage back lit so all we can make out are shadows.  From stage left the lights turn on and one of the figures turns around. We see C-cube. He looks at the camera and says: 

C-CUBE:  It…. 

Then the cameras switch to stage right and the next shadowed figure turns around revealing Rico Laser… 

RICO LASER:  Begins…. 

Then at the top of the SuperTron structure the lights come on and reveal the shadow above to be Malice… 

MALICE:  AGAIN! 

At the end of the word, the arena erupts in a display of fireworks and lighting.  Heavy chords of some unidentifiable, yet heavy song accompany the display.  The camera keeps doing cuts all around the arena to reveal various USXWF stars everywhere.  

Sitting on the ring posts are The Mask with Tanner at his side.  

The CandyMan and Mr. Mint are shown wandering around tossing cotton candy and sweets into the audience.  

La Parka sits comfortably on his chair leaning against the crowd railing.  

We see Avron and the Gentlemen standing imposingly in an entranceway looking across the arena.  

On the other end we see Spite and The Brother’s Hand in a similar position.  

The Court Jester is seen doing cartwheels down the entrance ramp.  

The camera snap to a close up of Mike the Chicken eater gnawing and slobbering on some unsuspecting rubber chicken.  The camera pans back to show the small child sitting next him trying to climb over his parent to get away from the slobbering maniac.  

The Carnival is shown on either side of the entrance ramp looking bizarre and menacing.  

We see Angst sipping from a ‘Starbuks’ cup somewhere in the crowd looking bored with it all.  

Jimmy Steele is seen giving pointers to a couple security guards.  

Off in some corner Tarot is seen sitting at a small round table covered in cloth and adorned with two burning candles. He is calmly shuffling his deck of cards. 

And up in the rafters we see the Harbinger surveying the whole situation with disdain. 

The camera refocuses behind and above The Harbinger and we see what looks to be Malice again, but in his old clothing. 

The fireworks and lights build to a crescendo and the lights go out as suddenly as they came on.  When they come back up all the wrestlers are gone and the camera once again turns to the candlelit table.  Tarot is gone, but on the table is a single card…   ‘The Fool’. 

::We cut to a wide panning interior shot, showing the whole audience. As usual, the signs are out in full force… 

WHERE OH WHERE HAS THE USXWF BEEN?I NEED MY FIX!
RICO NEEDS THE WANT ADS
I PINCHED THE MASK’S ASS! (IT’S HARD AND WOODEN, TOO)
AUSTIN 3:16… OOPS, WRONG SHOW
I CAN SEE MY HOUSE FROM HERE!
I DON'T WANT TO BE CREATIVE 

::Camera cuts to the announcers table where we see two familiar faces.  Big Papa Tete and Floyd.:: 

TETE (shouting, excited):  Greetings Fans and on behalf of all the staff and wrestlers… Welcome back the USXWF!!! And have we got a great returning show for you all!! 

FLOYD (somewhat cynical): Oh yes, great show lots of action.   I am just glad to be back…  yeah… 

TETE:  And as always here at my side is the one, the only Floyd Hemersol. 

FLOYD:  Look I said I was glad to back ok, and glad to be getting a paycheck again… 

::TETE shoots FLOYD a quick look and gets back to the task at hand:: 

TETE:  Tonight is the beginning of the race to Resurgence!!  Coming to you April 1, 2001.  It is going to be… 

::TETE is cut off by the house lights dropping as the opening chords of ‘Breakaway’ by Big Pig is heard throughout the arena. 

FLOYD:  What the?  Hey I was supposed to have a witty comeback here, who the heck is interrupting me?? 

::A spotlight comes up on stage and we see a young man, early 20’s wearing khakis and a sweater vest.  On either side of him are a couple of beefy looking bodyguards.  The young man is the typical rich preppy type, blonde hair, blue eyes, and perfect teeth. He smiles and addresses the crowd.:: 

YOUNG MAN:  Hello wrestling fans here in good ‘ol Hershey, Pennsylvania!! 

::Small, cheap pop from the crowd, who still has no clue who this guy is.:: 

YOUNG MAN:  For those who are wondering who I am…. 

FLOYD: Like I gave a damn who this guy is…. 

TETE:  Careful there Floyd, this guy could be your new boss… 

FLOYD: A young punk like him?  Not a chance.  Look at him he has all the leadership quality of a blitzed fratboy…. 

YOUNG MAN:  My name is Andrew Terrance, founder of the AT Group and new owner of the USXWF! 

::crowd pops a bit more on this announcement:: 

TETE:  You were saying? 

FLOYD:  Umm did I say blitzed fratboy?  I meant upstanding businessman, I just said those other words for color value.. Yeah that’s it…  All Hail Mr. Terrance!! 

A.T.:  Now, instead of wasting your valuable viewing time with my goals and views…  I say we get onto the wrestling!!! 

::HUGE crowd pop!:: 

A.T.:  And just so you know, there are no belt holders at the present!  All belts will be up for grabs at April’s Pay-Per-View!!! 

::another huge crowd pop:: 

TETE:  That is gonna make some people in back pretty damn angry! 

FLOYD:  Hey this guy is all about a clean slate.. I like that.  Some of that stuff you made me do in the past will be erased!  I love this guy! 

TETE:  Would you stop brownnosing so damn much already! 

FLOYD:  What…. Is it that obvious…? 

TETE:  Here, have some toilet paper…. 

FLOYD:  No, it’s cool I have some under the desk here somewhere….

COMMERCIAL

 

We come back from commercial just as "Oops! I Did It Again" by Britney Spears hits and the arena immediately begins to resonate with the sound of thousands and thousands of people booing. 

FLOYD: AUUUUGGGGHHHH! NO! What is HE doing back here? Who let HIM in the building?! 

Sure enough, La Parka arrives, his special chair sheathed on his back. He reacts to the boos as if they are a massive pop, bowing and saluting the crowd. He unsheathes his chair and lifts it to the heavens, and the boos get louder. The referee comes down to the ramp and orders La Parka to get rid of his chair. La Parka reluctantly takes his sheath off and puts the chair in the ref's hands. 

TETE: La Parka about to face the Mask in a "Chair on a Chain" match, the first ever in USXWF history. 

FLOYD: How does that work again, Papa? 

TETE: Two chairs are hung in opposite corners of the ring, attached by chains to the rafters of the building. The competitors are permitted to use the chairs ... however, they only extend halfway across the ring and there is no easy way of getting them loose. 

FLOYD: Ohhhhh no! This match was clearly set up in favor of La Parka! I hate it when he wins! 

TETE: Are you kidding me, Floyd? When was the last time La Parka won a match? 

"Duel of the Fates" hits and the lights in the arena go out, except for a blue spotlight on Tanner and the Mask, who walk slowly down the ramp. Tanner has a mic in his hand. 

TANNER: Ladies and gentlemen, good evening. Tonight we present to you the destruction of a human being at the hands of a monster. My charge, my tower of power, is prepared to physically dismantle this runt of a man who so hates the world. I encourage your enjoyment. Oh, and a brief message to my employer, if you will- 

But Tanner doesn't get the message out. While Tanner has been talking, the Mask has wandered within La Parka's chair range, and receives a smack to the head with La Parka's steel chair. 

TETE: My God, what a shot! And with that, the bell rings to start the match! 

FLOYD: I gotta say, the Mask doesn't look the least bit fazed. 

No, he doesn't. In fact, if anything, he seems to have woken up a bit. The Mask starts walking towards La Parka's corner, much to La Parka's surprise and chagrin. La Parka rears back and hits the Mask with another chair shot, this time to the ribs. The Mask doubles over briefly, but keeps coming. As the Mask walks, his body bent in half, La Parka delivers another chair shot, straight down, to the back of the Mask's head. The Mask collapses to the floor. La Parka tries to roll the Mask over for a pin, but the Mask sits up quickly, grabs La Parka by the shoulders, and rolls backwards, pushing La Parka into the air with his feet. La Parka flies across the ring - and into the Mask's corner. 

TETE: A fantastic defensive maneuver from the Mask! 

FLOYD: Not really. La Parka's within range of another chair! 

La Parka grabs up the Mask's chair and goes for another rib shot, but Tanner grabs La Parka's arms from behind, hindering his movement. The ref yells at Tanner to let go, but the Mask has already wrenched the chair out of La Parka's hands. The Mask swings for La Parka's cranium, but La Parka sees it coming, ducks, and swings around the Mask's back to grab the Mask in a crucifix pin! 

TETE: The Mask is down! Unbelievable! 

1...2... the Mask kicks out, more embarrassed than anything else. He punches La Parka back into the corner, grabs his chair, and this time connects with a massive chair shot. La Parka crumples like an old movie ticket stub. 

TETE: My God, did you hear that? It was like a gunshot! 

FLOYD: Ha! I WISH it was a gunshot. 

The Mask starts to go for the pin, but Tanner shouts something at him, and the Mask stops. He lifts La Parka to his feet by his hair and throws him over his shoulder. 

TETE: Good God, I don't even want to know what this monster is going to do to ... well ... this annoying little maggot. 

FLOYD: Having some trouble eliciting sympathy for the Britneyholic, Papa? I don't blame you. 

La Parka over his shoulder, the Mask runs toward the turnbuckle, intending to smash La Parka's head against it. But La Parka slips loose, falls between the Mask's legs, and rolls the Mask into a pin! 1...2... the Mask kicks out again, frustrated by the slippery luchador. La Parka scrambles for a chair, and so does the Mask. They charge at each other, both preparing to deliver a chair shot ... but neither chair reaches! The chains are too short. 

TETE: It appears these two have forgotten the rules of the game! 

FLOYD: Hey, if I were the Mask, I'd be delirious with shame at having been pinned too! 

Tanner shoves La Parka hard enough to force La Parka to drop the chair, and the Mask charges in, swinging. La Parka again ducks, grabs his chair up, and connects with a chair shot directly to the Mask's face! There is a sickening crack, and a look of amusement comes over Tanner's face. 

The Mask's wooden mask is cracked. 

TETE: The mask is coming off! Look, Floyd, the Mask is losing his mask! 

FLOYD: One more good shot ought to do it! 

La Parka rears back for another shot, seeing the mask is not as secure as it was, but the Mask delivers a brutal low blow. La Parka tosses the chair away in pain, and it nails the ref in the forehead. The ref stumbles back and between the ropes to the concrete outside the ring. 

TETE: No ref! No ref! Now what? 

As La Parka recovers, the Mask tries to fix his wooden cover. Tanner yells at the Mask ... something like "Take it off!" 

TETE: What? Is Tanner telling the Mask to take it off? 

There is a resounding pop from the crowd at this possibility. The Mask seems unsure what to do. Tanner again gives the order, eyeing the back expectantly. The Mask continues to stand, unsure. La Parka has now gotten to his feet and is readying another chair shot. 

TETE: Mask, look out! 

"Woke Up This Morning" hits and Rico Laser appears at the top of the ramp! He runs into the ring and chop blocks La Parka at the knees. La Parka hits the mat in pain, and Laser climbs to the top turnbuckle. 

TETE: Is Laser going for the Laser Beam? What the hell's he doing out here anyway? 

Laser cuts down the steel chair with what appears to be a small pen heat laser. He hands it to the Mask, nods at Tanner politely, and exits back up the ramp. The Mask goes to town on the downed La Parka, nailing him viciously with the chair. The ref wakes up and calls for the bell. 

TETE: Well, the Mask has lost this match by disqualification, but the real story here is why Rico Laser saved the Mask's bacon... 

FLOYD: I don't know, but before Laser showed up, La Parka of all people was about to reveal to all of us who the Mask really is. 

TETE: Floyd, you don't think... 

FLOYD: What? 

TETE: You don't think that had something to do with Laser showing up? 

FLOYD: Well, who knows? Could be. It's not my job to know these things, after all. 

TETE: It's your job to guess! 

FLOYD: Screw my job! My job is to sit here and make as many inflammatory remarks as I can! 

TETE: What? 

FLOYD: Otherwise the poor people in the legal department get bored and sort of lonely. I'm a freedom fighter, Papa! 

TETE: Have you taken the drug test this month? 

FLOYD (sadly): No. My bladder isn't working. 

TETE (at a loss for words): We'll be back after this, folks.

COMMERCIAL

 

TETE: Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen! Time for our next match... To usher in the New Year of the USXWF, we have Jimmy Steele and Candyman, in a “Chocolate Factory” Hardcore Match! 

FLOYD: They’re going to bring a chocolate factory out to the ring, Papa? 

TETE: I wish, Floyd, but not tonight. Nope, this one’s going to be viewed exclusively over the new Supertron! 

FLOYD: Super! 

TETE: I should point out to the viewers that the USXWF’s Supertron is 47.335% larger than the WWF’s Titantron, and 1000% BETTER! Which just goes to show that if you’re watching RAW, you’re only getting mediocre entertainment! 

FLOYD: Super-duper! 

TETE: Shut up, Floyd. Here comes the match! 

The Supertron lights up, and we tune in to hear Jimmy Steele’s entrance music, Rage Against the Machine’s Testify. We see a large, two-inch thick heavy wood-core doorway. The sound of a heavy lock is heard being opened, and the doors swing open. Steele appears, walking with his usual heavy-footed gait down the long hallways towards the main chamber of the chocolate factory. He steps under a large arch and past a conveyor belt. All the equipment seems to have been turned off. The ref meets him just inside, and the two exchange a glance. 

Steele’s music cuts, and he stands in the foyer glancing around the factory. There were two levels of floors, the upper level consisting of catwalks lined with tables and quality-control consols. Along the walls ran conveyor belts, all still, some still with candy products sitting on them. Several storage crates and bags of sweetener lined the walls, and a large, boxy structure jutted out from the center of the room, containing a pair of offices that were sealed shut. Half a dozen doors led out to other areas of the factory, also sealed. 

TETE: Looks like quite a place for a wrestling match… I sure hope they have the best EMT’s standing by! 

FLOYD: I just hope they don’t get any blood or chunks of flesh mixed in with the sweets! 

Steele whirls around, staring at the hallway where he just came from. He stands for several seconds, cracking his knuckles. The camera pans around in front of him, and we see that Candyman is already in the factory, standing behind Steele and holding a large sack of flour. 

FLOYD: Look out, Jimmy, he’s right behind ya! 

TETE: He can’t hear you, Floyd. 

FLOYD: Maybe I should yell louder… LOOK OUT, JIMMY, HE’S RIGHT BEHIND YA! 

Just then, Candyman strikes, heaving the fifty-pound sack into the air and bringing it down across Steele’s back. Steele staggers forward and slams into the wall, and Candyman follows-up with a charge and slam against Steele’s ribs. Steele tries to fight back, but Candyman ducks down and lifts Steele up onto his shoulder, then quickly drops him back down onto a conveyor belt. Finally, Candyman hoists the bag of flour up and drops it down across Steele’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. 

TETE: My God, Candyman’s certainly right at home in the chocolate factory! 

FLOYD: Like a fish in water, or a bird in flight, or Anna Nicole Smith in a whorehouse… 

Candyman takes a few seconds to step back, breathing a bit harder than usual. He walks over to a large control panel built into the center structure. He flips a large switch, and with a loud roar of machinery, the conveyor belts and automated candy systems started up. Jimmy Steele gets carried along with the conveyor belt he was on. He disappears into one of the large automated machines… 

FLOYD: This is like a bad Bugs Bunny cartoon… I love it! 

TETE: What does that big hunk of machinery do, anyway? 

Tete was answered with the sounds of Steele’s screams coming from the machine… 

TETE: Oh my god, it’s tearing him limb from limb! 

FLOYD: He’s being chopped into kibble! 

A few seconds later, Steele emerges from the other end of the machine… covered in melted chocolate. He rolls off the conveyor belt and begins thrashing around on the floor, trying to brush the still-hot chocolate off himself. After several seconds, he slows and eventually stops as the chocolate cools. He huddles against the wall for a few moments, trying to get over the shock. 

TETE: Oh my lord, that can’t be a pleasant experience… 

FLOYD: And I would have thought that being covered in chocolate would be orgasmically fun. 

Steele slowly rises to his feet, still with large chunks of lukewarm and melty chocolate covering his torso and pants. He glares around, his expression looking as if he would rip out Candyman’s throat with his teeth if he caught him. But Candyman wasn’t anywhere to be seen. 

FLOYD: Woo, it’s a game of hide-and-seek, Papa! This takes me back to my childhood days at the orphanage, when I’d hide the nun’s little replica of Jesus on the cross… 

TETE:  Keep this up, Floyd, and we’ll get our broadcast license revoked by the FCC. 

FLOYD: Ah, the FCC can bite me… 

Jimmy begins stomping around the factory, shouting Candyman’s name. Eventually, he hears a whistling above him… he glances up to see Candyman sitting on one of the catwalks, holding a glob of chocolate and taking small tastes from it. With an enraged roar, Steele rushes towards the thin rail stairs leading up to the catwalks, and then charges at Candyman. Candyman simply rubs the chocolate gob off his hand and onto the floor, then kicks his feet up into the air, catching Steele in the throat. Jimmy falls backwards, falling down hard on his tailbone. He gasps for air for several seconds. 

TETE: Candyman is absolutely dominating this match, Floyd! This is phenomenal! 

Candyman jumps up and grabs Steele’s head, and pulls Steele to his feet. Candyman throws a few punches up against Steele’s midsection. After a few seconds, Steele jumps forward, using his superior body mass to knock Candyman backwards. Jimmy presses the attack, grasping the railing to support himself as he plants a few heavy kicks into Candyman’s midsection. Steele then leans back, and delivers a kick upside Candyman’s head, knocking Candyman into the railing… and over! Candyman tumbles off the catwalk, desperately trying to grab onto the edge, but he plummets twenty feet down and lands onto top of a pile of crates! 

TETE: Oh my God, Candyman’s going to get killed! 

FLOYD: No! No-o-o-o! His candies were my only source of nutrition! 

Candyman lay still among the remains of the boxes. Steele leaned against the wall up on the catwalks for quite a while, breathing hard and trying to regain his strength. Finally, he returned to his feet and began stepping down the stairs towards his fallen opponent. The camera pans across to the Candyman, still lying prone across. However, we see something slide into view. It looks like a candy, four-feet long and three inches thick. 

FLOYD: Hey! There’s not supposed to be anyone else in there! 

The giant candy cane is slid into Candyman’s hand, prompting Candyman to look up at the intruder. The camera pans across, slowly, spotting a gloved hand, sliding up a black-clothed sleeve, and eventually spotting a short man with orange skin and green hair. 

FLOYD: That… that… 

TETE: Is that…? It is!  It’s… an Oompa Loompa!! 

FLOYD: That can’t be…! That’s impossible!! 

Candyman tightens his grip on the giant candy cane, and just as Jimmy Steele nears, Candyman swings the candy cane into the air and brings it down over Steele’s head. Jimmy collapses, and Candyman crawls over him for the cover. The ref counts… 1… 2… 3!! Candyman wins! 

TETE: An Oompa Loompa just helped Candyman win his match! 

FLOYD: No, Papa, no, it can’t be! I refuse to accept it… no!!  No!!  Oompa Loompa’s… all around me!! 

TETE: Floyd, snap out of it! 

FLOYD: They’re… they’re… ::his voice trails off, and a few seconds later a loud slump is heard:: 

TETE: Floyd! Get off the floor! We’re in the middle of a broadcast! 

On the Supertron, Candyman throws his arms in the air, and stops at the conveyor belt to grab another gob of chocolate before he leaves the factory. The Oompa Loompa steps out from behind the crates, joined by two others. The trio of short men begin singing… 

OOMPA LOOMPAS: “Oompa loompa doompety doo

I've got a perfect puzzle for you

Oompa loompa doompety dee

If you are wise you'll listen to me” 

The Supertron, and the sound, fades out… a high-pitched squealing is heard. 

TETE: Floyd…!  Ah… we’ll be right back…

 

COMMERCIAL 

We come back from commercial to hear an unusual-sounding theme playing over the sound system. The camera pans down to the announcer’s table, where Floyd is just starting to climb back into his chair. 

FLOYD: What the heck is this, Papa? Pac-Man? Space Invaders? 

TETE: This is Succession of Witches, from the widely popular Squaresoft game Final Fantasy VIII! Up next, we have The Carnival, Sable and Blanc, two of the newest members to the USXWF roster! 

The main arena lighting drops, and blacklights come up to illuminate the entrance. Two forms, supposedly the tag-team, appear under the Supertron, standing back-to-back, one wearing a black cloak, the other a white cloak. They begin drifting down the ramp, twirling around each other, each with a toothy grin plastered to their face. They climb into the ring and toss their cloaks aside. They stand still, glaring at the entrance. 

FLOYD: Oh no… this isn’t… that match, is it? 

Just then, the lights go down, the trumpets blare, and Pink Elephants On Parade comes up over the loudspeakers, prompting a massive pop from the audience. The Court Jester appears, flailing his arms spastically in a demented parody of “dancing”. He stands atop the ramp, throwing his arms in the air (he held a rubber chicken in each hand) and grinned madly at the audience. 

FLOYD: Boo!  Hiss! 

The Jester tosses each of the rubber chickens into the crowd and begins stomping down the ramp, singing along to the vocals of the song (“Look out, look out, Pink Elephants on Parade, here they come, hippity-hoppity!”). He pauses in the middle of the ramp, waiting for his partner. 

TETE: Who’s he wrestling with tonight? 

FLOYD: I don’t know, and I don’t care! 

TETE: Are we about to see a reunion of the Sideshow?!? 

The audience begins chanting, “Mike-Y! Mike-Y!” 

TETE: Is it Mike the Chicken Eater?!? 

Just then, Mike’s music, Cotton-Eye Joe, comes up over the sound system, accompanied by an even-louder pop than before. The Jester, startled whirls around, obviously surprised by this turn of events. A look of utter confusion is on his face. 

TETE: The Court Jester and Mike the Chicken Eater, together again at last! 

The music keeps playing. 

FLOYD: Yeah? Well, where is he? 

After almost a full minute, the music dies down… and Mike still hadn’t appeared. 

TETE: Hey, wait a minute… that’s not supposed to happen! Is it? 

The Jester turns back around towards the ring, but Blanc and Sable had already run up the ramp towards him, Sable catching the Jester with a clothesline, then whirling around to catch Blanc’s foot, propelling his lighter partner into the air. Blanc manages to pull off a flip in mid-air, and comes down with a full body splash across the Jester’s chest, right on the ramp. 

TETE: Oof! The Carnival’s jumping into this headfirst, with no hesitation! 

Sable pulls the Jester up, and he and Blanc each take an arm. They rock the Jester back and forth, gently it seems, before finally launching him forward. The Jester clears the ramp and smashes his shoulder into the side of the ring. The Jester falls down in a heap at the foot of the ramp. Blanc rushes down, pulls the Jester back up, and holds him with his arms pinned behind his back. Sable, the larger-muscled of the two, approaches and begins planting punches into the Jester’s gut. Flecks of spittle fly out of the Jester’s mouth with each impact. 

The referee yells at the Carnival, and they roll the Jester into the ring… officially starting the match. Blanc takes the first turn, gesturing for Sable to take his place over in the corner. Blanc opens up by propping the Jester up against the turnbuckle, then rushing to the opposite corner. With a slight hop to get his momentum started, Blanc rushes forward and launches himself into a low dive, then curls his body into a ball, slamming into the Jester like a wrecking-ball. Blanc rolls into the center of the ring and “unfolds” his body and straightens back up. The Jester just slumps over, unmoving. 

Impossibly, Blanc’s grin widens. He grabs the Jester’s long, unkempt hair and pulls the Clown Prince to his feet. Blanc wraps his arms around the Jester’s head and pulls him up for a suplex… but the Jester manages to hook his feet onto the turnbuckle ropes, countering the maneuver! The Jester then pulls his body back down, forcing an off-balance Blanc with him. With a surge of adrenalin, the Jester hoists Blanc into the air, flips him over… and drops him back down, placing Blanc’s lower back square on top of the ringpole! 

TETE: The Jester’s still in this match, delivering a move that could have paralyzed Blanc! 

FLOYD: Ah, that’s nothing… I once had my Uncle Albert sit on me, and I survived. Damn, Uncle Albert was fat… 

Blanc writhes in agony, resting half on the turnbuckle and half supported by the Jester. With an oddly comical scowl, the Jester grabs Blanc’s head and jumps forward, pulling the Carnival member off the turnbuckle and down to the ring floor. Blanc hits hard, his already-pained back slamming into the mat. 

The Jester gets to his feet dizzily, stumbling a tad, but wastes no time in grabbing Blanc’s arms and pulling his upper body up. The Jester then slides down, slipping his legs underneath Blanc’s body, then kicks upward. Blanc’s legs flail upwards, and the Jester twists Blanc around, causing Blanc’s legs to catch onto the ropes. Still holding Blanc in position, the Jester leans over Blanc’s upward-pointing feet so he has his face going into the pits of Blanc’s knees. Finally, the Jester rolls backwards, whipping Blanc’s lower body up into the air, around in a wide arc, and back down onto the mat! 

TETE: The Jester may be trying to cripple Blanc! He’s just constantly working on that spine! 

Still holding onto Blanc’s shins, the Jester spins around, about to perform another maneuver, but Blanc manages to kick his legs out, knocking the Jester away. The Jester gets tangled up in the ropes and struggles to get free, and Blanc pulls his pained body to the corner, where he tags in his partner, Sable! 

FLOYD: Oh, this is gonna be sweet… the two idiots pounded one idiot, who then pounded one of the first two idiots, and now the other of the two idiots is gonna pound the one idiot! Amazing! 

TETE: I wish I knew what sort of circles your mind went in, Floyd… but, then, I don’t speak Klingon. 

Sable immediately begins cleaning up the ring with the Jester, delivering powerful punches to the Jester’s upper body. The impact knocks the Jester free of the ropes, but within a few seconds the Jester gets backed into the corner, and Sable plants rapid-fire kicks to the Jester’s midsection. Eventually, Sable grabs the Jester’s arm and whips him across the ring… the Jester bounces off the opposite turnbuckle and staggers towards the center of the ring, and Sable rushes forward, wraps his arms around the Jester’s waist, and hoists him up for a belly-to-belly suplex. They crash back down… Sable is back on his feet almost immediately. He looks towards his partner, and his eyes widen with glee. He tags Blanc in, then pulls the Jester over to one corner, while Blanc climbs up on the opposite corner. Sable climbs up onto the turnbuckle, pulling the Jester along with him… then powerbombs the Jester off the ringpost, just as Blanc comes flying in with a flipping double-heel drop! 

TETE: The Carnival Inside! Their finisher! This could be it! The Jester never stood a chance! 

FLOYD: That’s the understatement of the century… 

Blanc goes for a pin, and the ref counts… 1… 2… the Jester gets his shoulder up! 

TETE: He broke the count! He broke the count

Blanc steps back, his grin actually fading in shock. The Jester slowly gets to his feet and leans up against the ropes, but Blanc rushes forward, grabs the Jester’s arm, and whips him to the opposite ropes. The Jester bounces back, and Blanc leaps up and catches the Jester in a flying drop-kick. They both go down hard… just as the lights in the arena drop. 

TETE: What…? What’s going on? 

FLOYD: Power failure, Papa, to accommodate the three failures in the ring! 

The Supertron comes to life, displaying a ring of candles flickering. After a couple seconds, a small card drops into view… it lands face-side up, revealing itself as “The Fool” card. 

TETE: Wait a minute… this can’t be…? 

The Supertron goes dark and the lights come back up, revealing a figure now standing in the Jester’s corner. 

TETE: It’s Tarot! 

FLOYD: What the hell…? Who would want to muddy up their reputation by getting involved in this match! 

Tarot shouts to the still-dazed Jester, motioning for a tag. The Jester, shrugging, dives towards his corner, slapping Tarot’s hand. Tarot hauls his exceedingly tall, lithe frame up onto the turnbuckle and leaps off, spinning in the air, and bringing his feet down like a dual chop across Blanc’s shoulder blades. Blanc topples like a house of cards. Tarot lands on his back, but jumps back up to his feet almost immediately. He doesn’t allow any quarter, but instead pulls Blanc back up and whips him into the ropes. As Blanc rebounds, Tarot wraps his arms around Blanc’s waist, and, in a single, fluid motion, lifts Blanc into the air, spins around in a full 360º twirl, and slams Blanc back down for what was probably the most graceful belly-to-belly suplex ever. 

TETE: This is like ballet… 

FLOYD: Only without all the sissiness and stuff. 

Tarot goes for a cover, but Sable dives in and disrupts the count. Tarot glares at Sable but doesn’t react. Instead, he pulls Blanc up the pushes him into the turnbuckle. Tarot grabs one of Blanc’s arms and lifts it up, then, with his free hand, begins planting sharp punches into the side of Blanc’s ribs. Blanc jerks and spasm’s, falling to his knees. Tarot climbs behind him, rests his legs against Blanc’s back, and shoves him forward out into the middle of the ring. 

FLOYD: Damn, Tarot’s just cleaning up the joint! I haven’t seen such a turnaround since the Mets beat the Raiders! 

TETE: Floyd… the Mets play baseball, the Raiders play football. 

FLOYD: That’s why it was such an amazing turnaround! 

Tarot climbs up onto the turnbuckle and leaps off, intending to bring his leg down across the back of Blanc’s neck. Unfortunately, Blanc manages to roll out of the way at the last second! Tarot slams down hard, pulling his leg muscles in an awkward way, and he falls backward in pain. Blanc pulls himself to his feet… and manages to tag in Sable! 

TETE: This is bad… Sable’s fully rested and ready to go! Get up, Tarot, get up! 

Tarot grabs onto the ropes and pulls himself up, but just as he straightens, Sable rushes in and plants a series of one-two punches into Tarot’s gut! As Tarot bends over from the impact, Sable leans over, grabs ahold of Tarot’s neck and leg, then lifts him up for a Samoan Drop! 

TETE: Oh no, Tarot’s in trouble! 

Sable steps back to the ropes, and with a slight hop, he bounces off the second rope, and comes back down with a full-body splash right across Tarot’s gut. Tarot spasms a bit, but remains on the ring floor. Sable pulls him to his feet and begins delivering another series of punches and slaps across Tarot’s chest, driving Tarot into the corner. Tarot tries to push away, tries to get past Sable so he could tag the Jester in. Sable pushes back, struggling to keep Tarot away from his corner. Tarot reaches… the Jester screams erratically, reaching out from the ringpost… 

FLOYD: He’s not gonna make it! He’s not gonna make it! 

Tarot’s fingertips just barely brush the Jester’s… 

The ref declares it a legal tag! 

TETE: The Jester’s in! The Jester’s in! 

The Jester climbs between the ropes and rushes towards Sable and swings out at Sable’s head. Sable goes down, but quickly jumps back up to his feet. The Jester dances erratically, hooting at Sable and egging him on. Sable, no longer grinning, leaps forward, and the Jester easily sidesteps him. The Jester then leaps up, spinning, and brings his feet back down across the back of Sable’s head. 

TETE: The Court Jester is making one helluva resurgence! The Clown Prince is back, with a vengeance! 

Sable climbs back up to his feet, dazed. He stumbles around, facing away from the Jester. The Jester grins towards the audience, and a loud cheer erupts from the crowd. 

FLOYD: No, don’t tell me he’s going to do his stupid little move…! 

Sable turns around, and the Jester leaps forward… 

TETE: The Punchline! 

The Jester spears Sable into the ropes, then uses the return momentum to lift him over his shoulder and back down for a pin! The ref begins counting… but Blanc jumps into the ring…! 

TETE: Blanc’s gonna ruin it! 

No! Tarot, still in the ring, intercepts Blanc! He grabs and holds him away from the pin long enough for the ref to complete the 3-count! 

TETE: The Court Jester and Tarot win the match! 

Tarot, still struggling with Blanc, pushes the shorter man away… then darts forward, lifts Blanc up into a shoulder breaker, then delivers a piledriver, completing his own finishing move! 

TETE: To add insult to injury, Tarot pulls off the Major Arcana on Blanc! 

FLOYD: That’s quite insulting, all right… insulting that we had to see it! 

TETE: Oh, shut up, Floyd, that was an amazing match! 

FLOYD:  Yeah… amazingly boring! 

Pink Elephants On Parade picks up again over the sound system… but a few seconds later is replaced with Metallica’s The Thing That Would Not Be. The Jester, breathing too heavily to notice, grins at Tarot. He reaches into his pants and holds out a whoopiee cushion. Tarot takes the gift a tad warily, but holds onto it as the two of them depart up the ramp. 

TETE: A new tag-team in the form of Tarot and the Court Jester? What could this mean for the USXWF? What could it mean for the Carnival? 

FLOYD: What could it mean for Polish midgets in a Saudi Arabia flea market?!?

COMMERCIAL

 

TETE: This next match could be real hot–the combatants have been insulting each other back and forth since this show was announced!

FLOYD: It’s kinda funny–it’s like a–

::The arena goes dark.::

TETE: Ssh!!!

::Floyd sulks.::

::The arena goes silent. Suddenly, "Superbeast" hits to a decent heel pop from the crowd. Strobes come on in the darkness, and two pillars of flame erupt from the top of the ramp. In the flashing lights, we can see signs being held up, blazoned with blurbs like "THE END IS NIGH" and "WHAT ABOUT CAIN?" The Gatekeeper walks out, marching down the ramp. The heat gets even bigger as the Harbinger walks out, looking intently at the ring. At the bottom of the ramp, a gateway of fire again surges up as the Harbinger walks past, stepping through the hole created for him by the Gatekeeper. He strips off his trenchcoat, handing it to his manager, revealing occult symbols written in white on the sides of his tights. The Harbinger reaches between the ropes and grabs a microphone from one of the cameramen as the lights come up and the music fades::

FLOYD: Oh God, he’s going to speak...

HARBINGER: It has been a long time, but the Harbinger has returned to spread his message to the warriors of the USXWF.

FLOYD: Sounds like he’s borrowing a page from the Rock’s scriptbook...

TETE: Ssh!

::The Harbinger stares out at the audience, pacing slowly in the ring.::

HARBINGER: When I was here last, I was mocked and derided by my fellow wrestlers, and by you, the audience.

::The audience begins to chant "Harbi sucks!". The Harbinger stares out at them from under his stringy gray hair, and lifts the mike again, bellowing over their voices until they are silent.::

HARBINGER: I sought blindly to open your eyes, to help you to understand the power of my masters, that you might be spared. I and the Gatekeeper took it upon ourselves to give you all a chance, and you spat in our faces.

Well, the time of warning is over. The protection of the Mark of Cain has been revoked. It’s time for all of you to feel the power of the Seventh Sign. And the first one to see it close-up will be the blindest of all your idols, that pathetic, manic-depressive poster child–

::The Harbinger turns as "I Am Stretched on Your Grave" by Sinead O’ Connor comes rolling out into the arena. Angst walks out from under the Abbotron as it displays shots of him moping around varying locales interchanged with a bored-looking Angst nailing moonsaults and suplexes on various wrestlers. Angst scuffles down to the ring, scanning the audience lackadaiscally, sipping on a latte. He gets to the edge of the ring, then suddenly turns, walking alongside it. The Harbinger pivots with him, staring at him, a look of confusion spreading across his face as Angst walks past ringside, over to the announce table, where he sits down and puts on a headset.::

TETE: What the heck is Angst doing? What are you–

::Angst shrugs. The Harbinger, looking furious, stares at Angst, practically growling as he speaks.::

HARBINGER: What are you doing, whelp? Scared to get in the ring with me? Finally realize that you’re no match for the full power of the Apoca–

ANGST (sneering): Whatever, Harbi. Fact is, I’m not in the mood to get in there and whup your Rob Zombie-looking carcass all over the ring, and seeing as you felt like I wasn’t a challenge worthy of your ::making quote marks with his fingers and taking on an overdone spooky voice:: "dark power", I made a couple phone calls and arranged a replacement that might be more to your liking.

::The Harbinger is about to say something to Angst when suddenly the arena goes dark once again, and the arena begins quaking with "Supernova Goes Pop"!::

TETE: What the–that’s Malice’s old entrance music!

::Indeed, the wrestler coming to the ring looks very much like the old Malice, with his long hair and imposing half-mask. He comes marching to the ring, currently occupied by a clearly very upset Harbinger.

FLOYD: Maybe the guy we saw yesterday with the blue hair isn’t actually Malice, but an IMPOSTOR, a clone sent to take over the USXWF!!

TETE: Maybe you’ve been eating too much candy lately.

ANGST: Are you guys blind or just dumb? Look at the guy a little harder.

::As "Malice" comes closer to the ring, it becomes clear that he’s much bigger than previously believed–he stands near seven feet tall, and his muscles have a bodybuilder’s definition.::

FLOYD: Dude, Malice has been hitting the steroids

TETE: It’s Odium!! It’s Malice’s brother, Odium, come to wrestle for his brother!

ANGST: Yeah, he said he hadn’t gotten any good in-ring action in a little while, so I figured I’d give him a big-ol’ air-filled punching bag to play with for a little while.

TETE: Well, why are you here at ringside then–aren’t you worried the Harbinger will come after you?

::Angst shrugs::

FLOYD: Hey, I don’t mind, and just to show there’s no hard feelings...::Floyd pulls out a latte:: Here. Just how you like it.

::Odium climbs into the ring, facing off with the Harbinger. The Harbinger stares for a minute at the masked hulk before him, one of the only USXWF superstars who can look him in the eye. Slowly, the Harbinger nods, and the referee rings the bell.::

TETE: Looks like this match is gonna happen!

::The Harbinger swings at Odium, but Odium starts it off fast, shoving the Harbinger into the ropes and nailing him with a clothesline. The shot practically bounces off the Harbinger, who reaches for Odium’s throat. They lockup for a second, until Odium gains the advantage and whips the Harbinger toward the corner. The Harbinger stops himself, turns to the bull-charging Odium, and sends him to the mat with a short-arm clothesline.

Odium gets back up, only to be pummeled repeatedly by massive right hands from the Harbinger, sending him reeling. While Odium is stunned, the Harbinger bounces off the ropes and puts him down with a clothesline.::

TETE: The Harbinger is really dishing out the punishment with those clotheslines.

::The Harbinger continues his onslaught, pummeling Odium with a furious series of unrelenting rights and lefts. He bounces back against the ropes, heads, arm out, for Odium, only to have the Hell’s Kitchen native dodge out of the way, using the Harbinger’s momentum to land a perfect tilt-a-whirl sideslam. Odium hits the mat to go for the cover...1...2...Harbinger gets a shoulder up, tossing Odium off him.::

TETE: Odium gets a two-count off that sideslam–Harbinger seems surprised at how strong he is.

FLOYD: Ah, he probably just forgot he was wrestling for a second.

ANGST: Yeah, but a shot from my big bro would even jog that musclehead’s memory.

::Odium holds onto his advantage, nailing the Harbinger with a massive headbutt, following it up by plowing him over with a shoulder tackle. The Harbinger hurriedly gets back up, connecting his knuckles with Odium’s jaw as he does so. Odium returns the punch, but the Harbinger has two more for him, followed by another short-arm clothesline.::

TETE: These two giants can’t seem to get an advantage on each other.

FLOYD: I dunno, Odium seems to have the superior tactical mind on this one.

TETE: You’re just saying that because his brother is within arm’s reach of you.

FLOYD: Sssh!!!

::Odium gets back to his feet, blocking a shot from the Harbinger and sending him into the ropes for a punishing clothesline that puts the Harbinger straight onto the floor. Odium goes for another cover...1...2...Harbinger gets the shoulder up and moves away from Odium. Odium charges at his foe again, but the Harbinger grabs him and nails a fallaway slam that shakes the ring. He moves away, getting ready for another move, when Odium gets up and sends him to the ground again with a shoulder tackle. The Harbinger follows his foe back up and goes for a short-arm clothesline, but Odium reverses it, connecting skulls with him using his own momentum. The Harbinger throat tosses his foe, putting him onto the mat, but Odium is up before his opponent can use the advantage, coming in fast and hard with a flurry of punches and a charging headbutt to the stomach. Harbinger twists around and out of the charge, nailing Odium with an atomic drop that leaves Malice’s brother snarling in pain for a second, only to have the Harbinger come in and lock Odium up in a crushing bearhug.::

TETE: Atomic drop from the Harbinger–and there’s a bearhug, bearhug on Odium!

FLOYD: Aww...how sweet...I guess we can call the match now.

TETE: Floyd...

ANGST: Shut up.

TETE: Thank you.

::The ref comes in to look for submission. Odium struggles, but the Harbinger holds tight squeezing on him, gritting his teeth. Odium tries again to get out, and manages to lean out and grab the rope. The ref breaks the hold, only for Odium to receive a massive gut punch, followed immediately by a DDT.::

TETE: The Harbinger just won’t give up his advantage on this one.

::Odium is reeling, bombarded by rights from the Harbinger to his chest and head. Ducking a punch, he runs back a bit and tackles the Harbinger, staying on top of him and blasting him with punches, followed up by a huge headbutt.::

TETE: Odium is driving the Harbinger into the mat!

FLOYD: In front of all these women and children? They should be ashamed!

::The Harbinger tosses Odium of his feet, and nails two rapid fire short-arms, sending Odium reeling, and delivers a haymaker that sends him to the floor. Odium gets up, headbutting the Harbinger in the stomach again and going for a powerslam. The Harbinger gets up a little slowly, taking several punches as he does so. He stares at Odium, shrugging off shots to his midsection and chest, barely moving when one connects with his face.::

TETE: Uh oh...Looks like the Harbinger is beginning to show off that unearthly stamina he got so famous for a couple months back...

FLOYD: I’d say the only thing unearthly about him is his awful looks.

ANGST: Or his fish-breath.

FLOYD: Hey, good one Angst.

::In desperation, Odium goes for a clothesline, only to go straight into a powerslam from the Harbinger, bouncing his massive frame off the mat. The Harbinger gets back up, only to be dragged down by Odium, who uses the force to stand himself up, stomping on his foe as he tries to rise. At last, the Harbinger gets back up, socking Odium in the stomach, and wraps his arms around him, slamming him down with a suplex.::

TETE: Suplex to Odium–all that training paid off!!!

FLOYD: Or all those steroids...

::Getting up shakily, Odium goes for another headbutt, only to move into a standing clothesline, sending him reeling. Odium dives back in with a shoulder charge, putting Harbinger into the ground, and rests back against the turnbuckle, chest heaving, energy drained.

Suddenly, Angst rises from his seat, tossing his headset aside, and charges to the ring.::

TETE: What the–where is Angst going?

::Angst jumps onto the apron, grabs onto Odium’s arm, and hauls himself up onto his brother’s shoulders. Angst stares down at the Harbinger and, with a small flourish, launches himself off a shocked and stumbling Odium, doing a full gainer and landing a splash onto the prone Harbinger.::

TETE: It’s the Suicide Splash onto the Harbinger–the referee didn’t even notice!

FLOYD: There's a big, fat surprise...

::Angst quickly gets out of the ring, baseball sliding under the ropes. Odium stumbles forward and lands on his foe. The ref notices and hits the mat, counting out the pin. 1...2...3..."Supernova Goes Pop" hits, as Odium climbs out of the ring and glares at his grinning brother, who looks over his shoulder at the enraged Harbinger as he gets up, glaring after his foes. He points ominously, mouthing something inaudible, until the Gatekeeper climbs in and guides him away.::

COMMERCIAL

 

TETE:  Ladies and Gentlemen….  Welcome back...  from that ummm… Informative… Commercial Break 

FLOYD:  Damn skippy it was informative.  Now I know exactly what I am missing by not having a Ronco ™ Electric Nose Hair Tweezers and Clippers. My life has changed forever! 

TETE:  What are you talking about?  We don’t see the commercials from here… 

FLOYD:  Maybe you don’t, but you see this show is live… so I just bring one of these… 

::Floyd point under his portion of the announce table.  Tete looks and shrugs:: 

TETE:  HDTV.. You gotta love it…  In any event fans this is it, the first signed match for the ‘Resurgence’ Pay-Per-View!  This should be interesting; it is for the USXWF Championship Title!  Floyd here has put together a special look at the history behind this coveted belt. 

FLOYD:  I have? 

TETE:  You better have…. 

FLOYD:  Oh…. ‘that’ history thing… 

::FLOYD pulls out a dust old book and opens it.:: 

FLOYD:  The year was 1892 and the pilgrims had decided they were bored… 

TETE: What the hell are you talking about? 

FLOYD: Gimme a second.. its called ‘creative license’! 

::TETE grunts and lets FLOYD continue:: 

FLOYD: As I was saying..  they got bored, and decided to call themselves ‘cowboys’.  Then this guy named Packer took his friends and his horse ‘Leanne’ on a trip… 

TETE:  That is it, I give you a perfectly good chance to prove yourself and you go on and blow it!  I say again what the HELL are you talking about. This is about the titles history.. not the history of some guy and his horse… 

FLOYD:  Ohh, my bad….   Want some fudge? 

::TETE glares at FLOYD who sits with a block of fudge in his hand.  FLOYD smiles and TETE finally breaks down and takes a piece, then regains some control of the segment:: 

TETE:  So this is it, three of the top wrestlers in the USXWF are going to sign for a shot at the title.  Keep in mind folks, these guys can’t stand each other… 

::’Black is Black’ by Los Lobos rolls through the arena as we see Diego Cabraera step out from under the SuperTron.  He takes a moment to bask in the fans cheers as he waits for a stage hand to give him a mic.:: 

FLOYD:  Who is this guy again? 

TETE:  He is the Commissioner of the USXWF, all you have to do is look at your outline… 

FLOYD: Oh yeah…  my bad again. 

::DIEGO signals for his music to stop and addresses the crowd as he makes his way down to the ring.  In the ring is a table and a few chairs that have a legal folder upon it.:: 

DIEGO:  Fans in the Arena, and all you fans watching at home… Welcome back to the USXWF!! 

::Huge pop from crowd:: 

DIEGO:  Now, as commissioner of the USXWF I have the privilege of announcing and signing the first match for the upcoming ‘Resurgence’ Pay-Per-View! This match will be for the USXWF Championship Belt and will be a grueling Three-Way-Dance!  So, to get this thing rolling, let me intro… 

::DIEGO is interrupted by the sounds of A3’s ‘Woke up this morning’ ringing throughout the arena.  With a huge flash of pyro and a laser light show that would have made any roller-skating rink owner die, RICO LASER appears under the SuperTron and makes his way to the ring.  The crowd seems mixed on Laser, some boo and some cheer.  But regardless of what people are doing, it is damn loud.  Rico gets in the ring and pulls out a mic of his own.:: 

RICO (to Diego):  Well, ‘Old Friend’ what are you thinking?  Signing this match as a three way.  We all know I should have this title to start with! I still own a portion of this company and have earned the very right to have that belt around my waist! 

DIEGO:  Well Rico, it was not my idea to book this match, it was handed down by Mr Terrace as a way to make the title worth something and not just another belt in some federation that changes hands every other show! 

RICO:  So, you are telling me that you are going to go along with this?  As commissioner you can change that match.  Give me another shot at that bastard Malice!  Let me show him what it is really like to get revenge… 

TETE:  Did you hear that?  Rico is pretty much calling out Malice!  I guess Malice’s apology fell on deaf ears. 

FLOYD:  And rightfully so, like you can trust any of that family of freaks. Why just the other day Angst was hitting me up for a latte loan and… 

TETE:  Would you simmer down?  Rico is about to talk again. 

RICO:  I could care less about his sister or her plight in joining C-Cube and his little flock of fanatics… 

::Just then The lights go down and ‘Their Law’ interrupt Rico’s diatribe. C-CUBE comes out from the crowd and stands right behind RICO LASER:: 

C-CUBE:  You were saying? 

RICO (spinning around to face him):  I was saying that I could care less about you and your little followers, and care even less that Malice’s little feelings were hurt! 

C-CUBE:  Oh, I could have sworn you were about to go into some Raven-like ‘What about me, what about Rico’ rant about the title again. 

::Crowd pops at this insult.  RICO takes off his sport coat and looks like he is ready to throw-down with C-CUBE. DIEGO steps in and addresses the two.:: 

DIEGO:  Settle down!  This is a signing not a street brawl! 

::C-CUBE backs of smiling at RICO and stands in a corner facing RICO and the table, RICO stares down DIEGO, not looking at all happy with him.:: 

TETE:  Now all we have to do is wait for one more to show up! 

FLOYD:  Great, now I get a chance to use this… 

::FLOYD pulls out a metallic pinwheel and hold it above is head.  TETE looks over and rolls his eyes.  Just then a wind whips through the arena and the lights dim.  ‘Tonight the Stars revolt!’ blares as MALICE makes his way to the ring wearing his new threads.  FLOYD is seen looking up with amusement at his rapidly spinning pinwheel.  MALICE slides into the ring and climbs the turnbuckle to rile up the crowd some more.  The crowd is going wild! Again MALICE has a headset microphone on instead of carrying a handheld.:: 

MALICE:  USXWF Fans!  The Storm is BACK!! 

::more crowd pop and MALICE jumps down from the ring and shoots a knowing grin at both C-CUBE and RICO LASER.  C-CUBE is calm and calculating, while RICO is staring a hole right through MALICE:: 

MALICE:  Well, this should be interesting, my two biggest foes in a three-way for the title.  What a great way to give these fans what they want…. But I don’t think it is enough… 

DIEGO:  What are you talking about?  What more could anyone want? 

MALICE:  Seeing as we have a new management running things around here, and the USXWF keeps changing hands, I thought it could do us some good to solidify some of the extra voting stock out there.  To make this match more interesting, I challenge Rico to put up his stake of the voting stock for this challenge as well! 

::Crowd cheers at their approval to this proposition:: 

RICO (smiling to himself):  If that is what it take to get a piece of you…. Done…  But!  I have done little research myself and noticed that you too, Malice, have managed to acquire a good amount of voting stock as well! 

::Crowd is taken a bit by this and quiets down:: 

MALICE:  Very good Rico, looks like those folks you hire to do your footwork are paying off.  Yes, it is true I too have a voting stake in the company and would be more than happy to put it up for grabs to get my hands on you again.   But there is one person we are forgetting.  C-Cube… 

C-CUBE (calmly):  But, I have not forgotten you… 

MALICE:  I understand that you may have something to add to the ante of this match… 

RICO:  What…. 

C-CUBE:  Oh you mean my owning a percentage of that voting stock as well? Well yes, I and my followers made an investment to make sure that we had some say in this federation.  And if you think I am about to put it up for grabs in a fight with the two of you….  You are right… I shall…  This is now the endgame for us.  Whoever wins has the title and all the voting stock that Mr. Terrance and his group possess.  It will be both of your end.  I am in. 

TETE:  What in heaven’s name is going on here.  These three are putting up a ton of money in voting stock and going for the belt?  Whoever wins gets it all?  What a great match for the ‘Resurgence’ show!! 

FLOYD:  Wait!  How come I don’t have any of this controlling stock stuff?  I make money!  I am the number one announcer for this show! 

TETE:  You are not!  And besides I am sure it takes a ton of cash to get all that crap you keep under the table! 

FLOYD:  Ah yes, good point… 

::DIEGO finishes making some changes to the contract as the song ‘Breakaway’ by big pig comes up and ANDREW TERRANCE steps onto stage with a couple of bodyguard types:: 

AT:  Wait just a minute there!  I just want to make sure that you all understand that you are playing with the future of the USXWF here.  I don’t have a problem with what you guys are doing, I just want you to know that I still hold controlling interest of the voting stock. So, whoever wins will have to be willing to work with me and the new era of sportsmanship and honor that plan to bring to this Federation!  Now, we are running out of time here and still have a HUGE match to go for these awesome fans!  So get to signing! 

::Crowd Pops as AT leaves to his music.  DIEGO sets the contract down and pulls out a nice looking pen.  He holds it out for the first man to take it. Not a single one of the wrestlers move.  Keeping a wary eye on each other.:: 

TETE:  Feel the tension!  This guys are about to… 

::FLOYD yells loudly with great intensity.  The crowd goes quiet and stares at him, as well as all the men in the ring.:: 

FLOYD:  Sorry, tension breaker… Had to be done. 

::TETE shakes his head back and forth and sighs.  After a moment, RICO steps forward and signs the document and smiles.  As he steps back he lunges at MALICE who anticipated this attack and ducks down, picking up RICO and dumping him to the outside.  MALICE walks over and signs as well.  He returns to the turnbuckle and stares down at the fuming RICO LASER.  C-CUBE looks at the two men and then signs as well. C-CUBE ducks through the ropes and looks like he going to leave.  RICO shouts something at MALICE and he turns his attention to him.  This is all C-CUBE needs and runs at MALICE knocking him down to the floor fro the great height.  With that C-CUBE laughs as he leaves.  RICO takes advantage of MALICE lying on the floor and takes a few good shots at him with a nearby steel chair.  This is broken up by DIEGO and some not so fond words are exchanged between him and RICO LASER.:: 

TETE:  Well you saw it here first folks!  Not only is the match for the title, but will determine who gets all that voting stock!  Stay tuned! After this commercial break we will see the brutal three-on-three tag match! See you all in two minutes!

COMMERCIAL

 

Tete: And we’re . . . 

Floyd: We’re back , folks! Yup, that’s right, this’s your play-by-play commentator, Floyd Hermesol back for the main event! And what an event it is! We’ve got Avron LongArm, that champion of Bulshido and The Gentlemen, who have yet to make any impact on the USXWF whatsoever! None! I mean, there was a fly last show that had more to say than they have! Their opponents are The Brothers Hand, those cuddly God guys, and a Mystery Partner! Ooooh! Spooky! Oh yeah, with me is Papa Tete, color commentator. 

Tete: Floyd, what’re you doing? 

Floyd: Isn’t he cute, folks? 

::Over the speakers, “The Story of the Man Who Went Out Shooting” by the Tiger Lilies blasts over the speakers, ending any conversation. Islington Standish and Jonathan Ayudaren appear from beneath the Supertron, pausing long enough for their pyros to shoot off, Islington’s red to his right and Jonathan’s blue to his left. They come down to the ring, very dignified and polite, to mixed reactions from the crowd. In response, they greet the crowd, riling them up and finally get a quick cheer. 

As they settle into their warm-ups, a haunting flute melody drifts across the speakers, heralding Avron’s entrance. He appears at the top of the ramp, holding a microphone and looking upset. Quickly crossing to the ring, he shakes the Gentlemen’s hands, has a quick word, then turns back to the Supertron and raises the mic to his lips.:: 

Avron: Now we would first like to thank the new management for allowing us this opportunity to set things right. You see, you Brothers Hand and our “mystery opponent” who we all know is C-Cube . . .

 Tete: Couldn’t have said it better myself! 

Avron: . . . are nothing but common thugs! I was concerned when your actions put the safety of others in danger outside of fair combat, but time and time again, you ignore your opportunities to settle your heinous actions in the ring . . . well, now your time has run out! You may be cowards, but we will fight you and resolve this issue! There’s no escape, you dishonorable swine! 

Tete: Avron calling the Brothers and C-Cube out! Finally, they’ll get what was coming to them! 

Floyd: Ahhh . . . I think he’s full of himself, or at least ramen! Speaking of which . . . 

::The all-too familiar synthesized chanting starts. The energy in the room rises as the synthesized chimes give way to a quick trance beat. Closest to the ring, one pure white pyro goes off on each side of the ramp, shooting straight up. Two more shoot up from each side of the center of the ramp followed immediately by the top of the ramp shooting off its pyros. Suddenly, the Supertron lights up with a giant white cross as, from each point where the cross touches the Supertron, a pure white pyro shoots up to the sky. As the pyros shoot from the Supertron, Cyril and Remington appear, running down to the ring. 

As they slide into the ring, the Gentlemen and Avron, who’ve picked Islington as their first man, back up, not willing to start the fight with a breach of the rules. Giving up, Remington leaves Cyril in the ring and the bell sounds. 

They circle around, then lock up. Immediately, Cyril falls back, keeping hold of Islington’s arms and executes a monkey throw, rolling onto his back and kicking his opponent over him. Quickly getting up, Cyril whips Islington into the ropes. Islington ducks under Cyril! Cyril hops over Islington! Islington goes for the clothesline, but Cyril ducks under his arm, swings around and DDTs Islington! Cyril goes for the pin! 1 . . Islington kicks out. 

Climbing to his feet, Cyril punches Islington and lands a powerful right to his midsection. Pulling back, Cyril lets go with another right, but Islington blocks! Islington lets go with a right of his own, pushing Cyril back into the corner. Cyril throws another punch, but Islington blocks! In the corner, Islington whips Cyril into the opposite corner and follows up with a running splash. Stumbling, Cyril hits the ground. Islington allows him to get to his feet, where he quickly kicks him in the midsection and powerbombs Cyril back tot he floor. Getting back up, Cyril stays on one knee, signaling for a breather. As Islington backs off slightly, Cyril pounces forward with a low blow! 

Both men crawl back to their corner, neither breathing well. Cyril lunges forward, getting the tag in on Remington seconds before Islington lunges himself. He misses! Remington comes running over, grabs Islington, and back-body drops him into the center of the ring. Standing up, Islington punches Remington into the ropes and launches him across the ring, leaning back and launching himself at the oncoming man. The two men, both propelled by the ropes hurtle towards each other, Islington bouncing harshly off Remington’s shoulder block. Remington goes for the pin . . 1 . . 2 . . Islington kicks out and the crowd goes wild!:: 

Tete: Can you imagine the willpower it takes to stand up after a beating like that? The strength of these men’s morals is overwhelming! 

Floyd: Yeah, and you can retest any social or mental challenge, too! 

Tete: What? 

Floyd: With willpower, Tete! Jeez, what’re you, still in second ed. or something? 

::Back in the ring Islington is making a comeback! With the crowd cheering him on, Islington beats Remington into the corner with heavy blows across the torso. As his back hits the turnbuckle, Remington starts fighting back, each man trading blow for blow. Finally, Remington doubles Islington over, throws Islington’s head between his legs and hoists him up for a powerbomb. Islington, aware of his imminent fall, recovers and starts beating Remington’s head with his fists! Remington looks like he’s about to execute the move when he takes one punch to the head too many and falls backwards! Islington smiles briefly before his face impacts the turnbuckle on the way down and he, too falls over backwards. The two men lie unconscious in the corner and ref starts to count. 1 . . 2 . . :: 

Floyd: Stay down! Let us go home! I have to do my Tai Bo workout and you’re keeping me from thinner, shapelier hips and buttocks! 

Tete: Floyd, would you start commenting on something important, for goodness’ sake? I work my fingers to the bone, giving our audience relevant, up to date commentary, and all you do is goof around! Now, I don’t want to say this . . . 

Floyd: ::interrupting and handing Tete and ice cream cone:: Hey, Tete, you like Butter Pecan, right? 

Tete: As a matter of fact, I do. Mmm, this is good . . . 

:: . . . 5 . . .6 . . . Islington moves! He starts getting up! . . . 7 . . . Islington is crawling toward his corner, but Remington is moving, now too! . . . 8 . . . Remington crawls up the turnbuckle and gets to his feet, but its too late, Islington makes the tag to Avron! 

Suddenly the blasting guitar riff from “Their Law” blasts over the speakers and the Supertron lights up with images of war and images of bloody Hindu deities. The ramp remains empty, however and the match continues. Avron runs over to Remington, nimbly dodging around a hook and placing his arms under Remington’s in a full nelson. Before Remington can react, he is flying through the air backward from Avron’s Dragon suplex. Avron runs to the rope Remington is facing, knocking Cyril off the ring and baseball slides Remington as he climbs to his knees, knocking him back. He gets up again, pushes back on the ropes and hurls himself at Avron, who grabs his outstretched arm, swings his free arm under that armpit and arcs backward, throwing both their weight to the mat, Remington’s face-first. 

And Avron’s on his feet, climbing to the turnbuckle. Remington gets to his feet groggily, looks around and comes to the conclusion that the flying lariat that just knocked him back down was probably not a good thing. Avron goes for the pin, One . . there’s movement from under the Supertron . . . Two . . . Th . . . at’s Mike the Chicken Eater dragging Islington off Remington!:: 

Floyd: Mike the Hick . . .er Chicken Eater is their partner! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha . . . 

Tete: So, ladies and gentlemen, a startling new development! It seems that the Brothers Hand’s mystery partner for this match wasn’t C-Cube after all, but Mike the Chicken Eater! What could this possibly mean for the rest of this matchup?!?! 

Floyd: . . . ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!!!!! 

::As the ref is arguing with Mike, Remington rolls over to Cyril and tags him in. Finally, the ref understands, and announces Mike to be the legal man! Cyril gets pushed back into the corner as he and Remington watch in horror. The crowd starts chanting “Avron, Avron, Avron!” 

Mike runs toward Avron, only moving when his face is deflected off the drop kick Avron gives him. Getting up, Mike tries it again, running straight into the second dropkick. Not losing heart, Mike gets up and runs straight forward into Avron, who, a bit bored, applies a dropkick. Finally, Mike discovers that he can bounce off the ropes when he runs toward Avron, so he does. This time, Avron slides under him and grabs him for a DDT as he runs back. Not waiting for him to get up, Avron bounces off the ropes with a leg drop. Mike finally gets up only to be pummeled into the corner by the hard blows of Avron’s fists. 

Avron drops him to the floor with kicks, then knees him in the face until the ref breaks it up. Still smiling, Mike thanks the Ref, and gets hit with a German suplex. Running toward him as he gets up, Avron hops off the ropes in the corner and lands on him after twisting a corkscrew. Finally wanting to end the match, Avron climbs to the top rope as the crowd goes wild and jumps forcefully toward Mike’s prone body. As Avron is airborne, he tucks his body into the tightest ball possible, only releasing the tuck after the full rotation of his 450 splash. 

One. Both teams see Avron go for the pin and react. Two. Cyril runs toward Avron, grabbing for his leg. As he reaches, the larger form of Jonathan Ayudaren impacts him and sends him sprawling backwards. Three. Avron stands up and the ref raises his and Jonathan's arms. The haunting flute music comes back over the speakers. 

The Brothers run into the ring and pick up Mike, yelling at him and questioning him as he smiles back and hugs both of them. Revolted, they throw him off, sending him halfway across the ring, falling to the ground again and stalk out of the ring and up the ramp. Looking confused and pissed off, shout back threats and promises back at the Gentlemen and Avron as the latter are celebrating. Finally, they back out under the Abbottron and Mike gets up and chases after them.:: 

Floyd: This… this… this is horrible, Papa! It’s like night of the living dunces! It’s like a moldy shnozzberry in your underwear drawer! 

Tete: Mike the Chicken Eater has been petitioning the Brothers Hand for membership for several months, and it looks like he finally made it… without the Brothers permission! 

Floyd: Well, at least there’s now a group stupider than the ACLU… 

Tete: I don’t know what to mock you about first, Floyd… your use of the non-word “stupider”, or your mockery of one of the more important groups in the United States. 

Floyd: Ha! I’ve outsmarted you again, Dr. Holmes! If only it weren’t for those pesky kids… 

::long, long pause:: 

Tete: All right, it looks like we’ve got a few minutes before the show’s over… we’re getting a video feed from the back!  (Mumbling) Saved by the footage…

 

::CUT TO:  DIEGO’S COMMISSIONER OFFICE::

::We see DIEGO sitting at his desk with the contract in hand starting at RICO LASER who is standing next to desk laughing.  DIEGO set the contract down and signs it.:: 

DIEGO:  So now it is official, and there is no backing out of this one, Rico! 

::RICO continues to laugh and smile:: 

DIEGO:  What are you so happy about?  It is finally your chance to face the music! 

RICO:  Not exactly, you penny-ante idiot.  As usual, I have everything under control. 

DIEGO:  What are you talking about? 

RICO:  Simple, you all have no idea what you just signed for do you? 

DIEGO:  Yes, a three way match for the title and for control of all of you three’s voting stock. 

RICO:  Well partially right.  You really should read before you sign, simple rule of business. 

::DIEGO glances at contract and reads for a moment.:: 

DIEGO:  Looks good to me… 

::RICO takes off the cover sheet and points to the document.:: 

DIEGO:  What the hell?  Rico, what the hell is this? 

RICO:  A simple switch.  Oh, the match is still for the stock, and the title, but the roles have changed. 

DIEGO (paraphrasing aloud):  “Resurgence” PPV Main Event…  Tag Team Match?..  Winning team gets stock…  Teams:  Rico and Masked Partner versus Malice and C-Cube!?!  What have you done? 

RICO:  I have finally found a way to get my portion of the company back, and make Malice pay. He and C-Cube will rip each other apart before the Pay-Per-View and at it.  And if my partner and I win, the title is mine.  But if those two somehow manage to not kill each other, they will be co-holders.  In short, I get my way again. 

DIEGO (standing):  You won’t get away with this Laser.  I can make this void! 

RICO:  No, you can’t.  You yourself have signed it and made it a legally binding contract.  Even as commissioner you can do nothing about it.  So that leaves me with one loose end. 

DIEGO: What is that? 

RICO: You. 

::RICO grabs a crystal sculpture off the desk and smashes it into DIEGO’S head.  Shards and some blood fly all over.  DIEGO sprawls to the ground flailing wildly about holding his hands over his eyes.  RICO calmly picks up the phone and dials.:: 

RICO:  Yes, security?  We need a medic in the Commissioners office, he has taken a nasty fall.  Thank you. 

::RICO hangs up the phone, grins, and kicks DIEGO a couple of times before leaving calmly.  The camera closes in on DIEGO’S bloodied face and fades to: USXWF LOGO.


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