Delirium
Part II
| TETE: Tibbs certainly winning no friends here
tonight. FLOYD: Well, he's got a winning spirit, Papa. You can't fault a man for that. TETE: Why not? FLOYD: Well... because you can't. TETE: Why not? FLOYD: ...... Hey, look, it's time for the next match to start! Indeed, the sound system lights up with "Wynona's Big Brown Beaver" by Primus, and a pair of white-coated security men wheel Crazy Mac out to the ring in his restraining system. They unlock him, prompting Mac to burst from the restraint and dive into the ring, where he waves his arms towards his audience, screaming at the top of his lungs. FLOYD: Jeeze, it looks like his head is about to pop! TETE: Like you'd hate that? FLOYD: Of course! He might get gray matter all over my clothes! Mac keeps up his insane showboating as his music dies, then clutches his ears and falls into the fetal position when "Oops, I Did It Again" by Britney Spears comes over the loudspeakers. Crazy Mac's screams of agony were matched by over half the audience, and at least one ringside announcer. FLOYD: Aaaagh! Make it stop, make it stop! I'll take any Hanson crap over this, any day! Please, to all that's holy, make this abomination stop! TETE: Will you calm down? FLOYD: Don't tell me you like this tripe? TETE: Not at all, I just go to my happy place. FLOYD: Hey, that's a good idea... ahh... midgets... La Parka appears, carrying his trademark custom-made chair. As he approaches the ring, he shouts at Crazy Mac, presumably including much usage of the word "fool". He climbs up onto the apron, then, tucking his chair against his ribcage, flips over the ropes and lands on his feet. He spreads his arms wide, only to receive boos and shouts of Turn It Off!" from the audience. La Parka's expression darkens, and he turns his verbal abuse towards the crowd. TETE: I think it's safe to say that La Parka is hated almost as much as Abbott, Rico, or, dare I say it, even you, Floyd. FLOYD: Hey, there's no chance in hell that anybody can match my certain calibre of obnoxiousnessness. Finally, the Britney Spears' music comes to an end, and is replaced by an uplifting, brass-filled, vaguely familiar tune. Nobody recognizes it, but the entire audience cheers anyway for the removal of the previous music. FLOYD: Wait a minute, this sounds vaguely familiar... TETE: Don't you do your homework? This is a remix of the Nebraska football team's victory music! It's time for the Lineman! The Lineman appears, wearing his old jersey and carrying a football. He takes a few steps towards the audience, signs the football, then tosses it into the audience, causing the cheers to become even louder. TETE: The crowd really loves this guy! FLOYD: No, they're just glad that La Parka's music has stopped playing! TETE: Will you stop it? I think we've run that joke into the ground enough. FLOYD: Okay, okay... The Lineman pulls his jersey off and tosses it to one of the ringside assistants, then climbs into the ring, flexing his powerful muscles. He leans against one of the turnbuckles, waiting for the bell to sound. The referee waves his hand, and the match begins. Crazy Mac runs towards his closest opponent, the Lineman, like the raving lunatic that he is. The Lineman deflects the charge, and Crazy Mac bounces into the ropes. On the return, the Lineman clotheslines Mac into the ring. Mac promptly jumps up again, and the two of them grapple. La Parka, meanwhile, was holding his chair aloft, trying to decide who to hit first. FLOYD: Wait a minute, this isn't a hardcore match... La Parka's chair shouldn't be allowed! TETE: Actually, La Parka had a special clause put into his contract allowing him to "bend" the rules by allowing his chair in all of his matches. FLOYD: That's an unfair advantage, and you know it! TETE: Yeah, but he supposedly took a hefty dock in pay, which gets funneled back to our own salaries. FLOYD: ....... Go, La Parka! We love La Parka! La Parka finally rushes forward, aiming for the Lineman's head, but at the last second, the grappling Lineman and Crazy Mac spin around, and La Parka winds up smashing Mac's skull instead. Mac stumbles around, dazed, while the Lineman quickly grabs the much smaller La Parka, and hoists him up into a belly-to-belly suplex. La Parka's chair goes spinning to the other side of the ring. Unprepared for the suplex, La Parka clutches his chest, trying to get air into his lungs. The Lineman then turns his attention to Crazy Mac, still stumbling about. The Lineman waits for the right moment, leaning forward, resting his hands on his knees... when Mac is in the right place, the Lineman lunges forward, catching Mac in the ribs with an upwards-facing tackle. The two fly backwards, and Mac lands on La Parka's chair with the heavier Lineman on top. The Lineman stays where he is, and the referee dives for the count... 1... 2... 3! TETE: The Lineman wins with his grand entrance to the USXWF! FLOYD: Aw, that was a wimpy maneuver... TETE: Are you kidding? That tackle could have shattered a brick wall! The crowd cheers wildly as the Lineman climbs to his feet, grinning and waving to the crowd as he exits the ring. La Parka, still out of breath, climbs to his feet. He spots Crazy Mac lying on top of his chair. With a wail, he tries to pull his chair out from the chunky frame of Crazy Mac, but he only succeeds in waking the large lunatic. Mac grabs La Parka's arm, then throws him across the ring. As La Parka lay on the ground, Mac picks up the chair, and with a primal scream, rips the seat off of the frame, and tosses the remains onto the mat. La Parka wails again and gathers up the pieces, holding them close like a treasured family member. While La Parka is distracted, Crazy Mac lifts his heavy-booted foot and delivers a solid kick upside La Parka's head, dazing the Spears-obsessed wrestler once again. "Wynona's Big Brown Beaver" comes up once again as Crazy Mac departs the scene. TETE: A shorter match, but a nice introduction to the capabilities of these three newcomers. FLOYD: Sheesh, look at La Parka. IT'S ONLY A CHAIR, "FOOL"! TETE: Okay, folks, here it is, another match of the year contender, no doubt in my mind. FLOYD: You're absolutely right, Tete. We haven't even seen the match yet and it already feels legendary. "You Give Love a Bad Name" hits and Trent Valentine comes out to a huge ovation. On his way out, he stops and gives one lucky audience member a rose. TETE: This sensitive young man has more than proven himself here in USXWF, with his ladder match at the last Trauma before we shut down ... that one a match of the year candidate in and of itself. FLOYD: He's a pansy, but he's a tough pansy. Trent heads straight for the ladder at the side of the stage leading up into the catwalks as crew members lay out a net above the ring, fastening it into bolts in the walls on either side of the stage. TETE: A brief explanation of the rules here: These three young gladiators will battle in the catwalks of this theater, a full eighty feet above the ring. The railings along the catwalks have been, I repeat, have been removed. The path to that Intercontinental gold lie in forcing your opponents off of the catwalks and into the net below. The competitors may use any object they find in the catwalks as a means to that end. The last man standing in the catwalks will be the Intercontinental champion. As soon as Tete finishes this last, the lights go out and "Duel of the Fates" hits and the Mask walks out, Tanner beside him as always. The Mask points at Valentine and gestures to the net. He really doesn't have to say any more than that. The Mask begins to ascend the ladder, several rungs below Valentine. TETE: The monster from God-knows-where and his "protector" making their way to the ring. FLOYD: The Mask is phenomenal, but he's also the largest man in this federation, and maybe the most dangerous. Just then, "Rock Superstar" by Cypress Hill hits and Xavier appears on the ramp. The crowd pops hugely and Xavier basks in that for a moment, then makes his way down the ramp to the ladder and quickly begins to ascend. TETE: Arrogant young pup, this one is. FLOYD: He's arrogant for good reason. Chris Jericho's got nothing on him. Valentine reaches the top. The Mask is just a few lengths behind him, and Xavier is right on the Mask's tail. Valentine gestures for the both of them to keep coming. Xavier grabs the Mask by the belt and pulls hard, and the Mask is already falling to the net. TETE: If the Mask falls, he's eliminated! But the Mask, using remarkable agility, catches hold of one of the lower rungs and begins to pull himself up again, just a few lengths behind Xavier! TETE: My God! The skill and focus that must have taken. FLOYD: The Mask has his mind on one thing and one thing only, Poppa: victory. Xavier reaches the top as the Mask reaches about the three-quarters point. Valentine greets Xavier there with a punch to the jaw, then a DDT into the steel mesh of the narrow catwalk. TETE: Valentine off to a vicious start ... not enough room up there for all three men unless they stand single file, and I don't think they're going to be that organized. Xavier lies motionless. Valentine moves to stand him up, then Xavier fires a low blow into Valentine's crotch. Valentine doubles over and grasps his newly-appraised family jewels. FLOYD: He was playing possum, Poppa! Xavier delivers a vicious boot to Valentine's head, and Valentine rolls towards the unprotected edge of the catwalk. He manages to stop his momentum before he spins into the air above the net. Xavier has rushed past Valentine, seemingly searching for something. Valentine gives chase. The Mask has just reached the catwalks, and follows Valentine. Valentine follows Xavier around a bend in the immense system of catwalks and is greeted with a sandbag to the face. Valentine goes down hard, but manages to catch Xavier's legs in a scissors sweep on the way down, so Xavier goes down too. As both men attempt to get up carefully to avoid knocking themselves off of the edge of the catwalk, the Mask rounds the bend and grabs Xavier's face, then grinds it into the steel mesh he lies on top of. Valentine is on his feet. Without any regard for his safety, he shoulder tackles the Mask and miraculously manages not to knock either of them off of the catwalk! TETE: My God! Can you believe that? FLOYD: You can bet that Xavier will take advantage of this! And he does. Xavier picks up a steel chair propped up against a pole supporting the catwalk, and plows it into the Mask's back. The Mask turns around, seemingly unaffected, and grabs Xavier by the throat, preparing for a chokeslam. But Valentine grabs the Mask and gives him a neckbreaker onto the steel catwalk! Valentine pulls the Mask to his feet, then backs him down the catwalk with a series of punches. Xavier comes from behind and delivers a rolling German suplex to Valentine, freeing the Mask up to search for and find a rope. TETE: Uh-oh. What's he doing with that? As Xavier and Valentine brawl along the catwalk, the Mask comes from behind Xavier, wraps the rope around his throat, and begins to choke him. Xavier starts to go down slowly, and Valentine is beginning to realize that once the Mask is finished with Xavier, he's going to be cornered. The Mask, still choking Xavier, pushes him out over the edge of the
catwalk, and amazingly, Xavier still doesn't fall! The Mask's strength is such that he
manages to hold Xavier up by the rope around his neck, slowly suffocating him. Valentine comes to Xavier's rescue, however, with a blow to the Mask's elbow with the
steel chair Xavier earlier used. The Mask, startled, lets go of Xavier, who plunges to the
net. |