Angst's distinct music replaces Tibbs', and the lanky youngster appears underneath the Abbottron. He finishes off a cup of Starbucks' coffee before he begins his slow walk to the ring. He climbs up on the apron and stares at Tibbs for a few seconds, then hops over the ropes. Tibbs begins shouting at him, and Angst simply shrugs.

TETE: This match is completely unnecessary... Angst and Tibbs have clashed merely as the result of an innocent misunderstanding.

FLOYD: Are you crazy? Angst made racial insults about Tibbs!

TETE: Racial insults my ass. Angst told Tibbs to stop complaining.

FLOYD: Listen, the white man has been putting our people down for too long! It's time to rise up!

TETE: Floyd, look at your skin.

FLOYD: Skin color doesn't matter! The white man is trying to keep our peoples divided!

TETE: Great, now the NAACP is going to be suing us, too...

The bell rings, and Tibbs storms up to Angst, who holds his ground. Tibbs yells at Angst some more. Angst doesn't react, he only keeps staring. This angers Tibbs, who takes a step back and swings his fist towards Angst's head. Angst ducks under the swing and somersaults away, the jumps back up to his feet and delivers a snap-kick to Tibbs' side. Tibbs staggers into the ropes, and Angst jumps up and plants a drop-kick into Tibbs' upper back. Tibbs flips over the ropes and crashes to the floor.

FLOYD: Hey, wait a second! That little yuppy isn't supposed to be able to do that!

TETE: And why's that, Reverend?

FLOYD: 'Cuz he's whi--*... er... small! That's it, small...

Tibbs climbs back to his seat, only to have Angst leap off the apron, latch his legs around Tibbs' neck and twist around for a Hurricanrana. Tibbs collapses to the floor.

TETE: This is incredible... young Angst seems to be dominating Tibbs in this match!

Angst jumps back up, and immediately gets back up on the apron. He pauses, looking as if he was going to jump down, then changes his mind and heads straight for the turnbuckle. He climbs to the top ropes and throws his arms in the air. The audience screams madly.

TETE: Don't jump, don't jump! My God, he's going to kill himself!

FLOYD: Or Tibbs.

TETE: Or both!

Angst crouches down, and pushes off. He does a flip in the air and comes down, intending to hit Tibbs with a full body splash. As Angst comes down, Tibbs kicks both of his legs into the air, catching Angst in the chest and kicking him away. Angst rolls against the barricade, clutching his ribs and trying to draw in air.

TETE: Holy hell... Tibbs may have just shattered Angst's ribs!

FLOYD: Aw, he just got the wind knocked out of him. Everyone knows that coffee makes the rib bones super-strong!

Tibbs rolls back up to his knees, shaking his head slowly to clear the dizziness. He gets up slowly, then approaches where Angst is huddling in pain. He grabs Angst by the head and pulls him up to his feet, then slams his head against the barricade. Angst falls back to the floor. Tibbs pulls him back up, and does the same thing. Again, Angst falls back to the floor. By now, the referee is yelling at Tibbs to bring the fight back into the ring, but Tibbs ignores him. Tibbs forces Angst to his feet for a third time, then pulls Angst back, then throws him towards the barricade. Angst flips over the restraining wall and into the audience.

FLOYD: All right, let's see some of the brothers in the audience get in on this fight!

TETE: Floyd, you are Insult Incarnate, you know that?

Tibbs hops over the barricade, and begins stomping away at Angst. Angst manages to grab his boot and flip him backwards. Tibbs, off balance, falls backwards, allowing Angst a chance to get to his feet. Angst grabs a woman's nearby purse and swings it into Tibbs' head, then hops back over the barricade and climbs back into the ring. He rests against the ropes, regaining his strength as he waits for Tibbs to climb back over the wall.

TETE: You have to admit, Floyd... even though Angst is terribly outmatched against The Machine, he's doing a pretty good job.

FLOYD: I don't have to admit nothing, Whitey.

TETE: Will you cut that out?!? If anything, you're paler than I am! Get some sun, you moron!

FLOYD: But... but... but the sun gives me wrinkles...

Tibbs manages to haul himself over the barricade. He slowly stumbles over to the ring and slides in under the ropes. As Tibbs straightens up, Angst rushes forward and jumps to deliver a flying drop-kick to Tibbs' head, but Tibbs sidesteps the attack, and Angst goes flying into the turnbuckle. Luckily, Angst manages to snag his legs against the ropes, preventing any injury, and he rolls backwards, bringing his legs up and around to crash down against Tibbs' back. The larger man stumbles forward on his face.

TETE: An amazing reversal by Angst! His reflexes are amazing!

FLOYD: Well, Tibbs' reflexes are great, too... did you see how he stumbled forward exactly when Angst kicked him? THAT'S tactics.

TETE: That's Newton's first law of motion.

Angst climbs to his feet, and seeing Tibbs lie on the floor, he hops onto the ropes and bounces backwards, flipping as he does so, intending to catch Tibbs in a Moonsault. Tibbs, however, manages to roll away from the attack. Angst smacks his sore chest against the ring floor, and again he curls up in pain.

Tibbs takes a few deep breaths, regaining his strength. After a few moments, he grabs Angst, hauls him to his feet, and whips him into the ropes. Angst bounces off, and Tibbs tries to go for a clothesline, but Angst ducks under it. Angst then goes to bounce off the opposite ropes, and as he rebounds again, Tibbs quickly grabs him for a belly-to-belly suplex. Tibbs goes for the pin, but Angst manages to kick out after two.

TETE: Damn, that young man is taking a tremendous amount of punishment from Greg "The Machine" Tibbs.

With an exasperated scowl, Tibbs again pulls Angst back up to his feet, and again whips him into the ropes. Angst bounces off, and Tibbs grabs him for a Powerbomb. Tibbs hoists Angst in the air, but in the split second that he's up, Angst manages to wrap his legs around Tibbs' neck, and as he falls back down, he pulls Tibbs down with him. Angst twists around before he hits the floor, flipping Tibbs head over heels.

FLOYD: What the hell...?!? How'd he do that...?!?

Angst immediately dives on top of Tibbs for the cover... the audience explodes as the ref makes the three-count. Angst jumps to his feet, and the referee holds his arm in the air.

TETE: Angst has managed to upset Greg Tibbs!

FLOYD: The white man is again unfairly putting our brothers down...

TETE: Will you shut up about that?

Angst jumps out of the ring and heads back up the ramp with the slightest of limps. He turns just before he disappears backstage, and for a brief second, a slight grin flashes across his face.

COMMERCIAL 

Trauma comes back up with "Pink Elephants On Parade" booming over the speakers. The Court Jester comes out, wearing an exaggerated scowl on his face.

FLOYD: There must be a God, and he hates me.

TETE: Calm down, Floyd, we haven't seen the Jester out here since Hostile Takeover.

FLOYD: You know what? I was hoping it'd stay that way!

The Jester reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a mic. He lets his music continue for a few moments, then pulls his hand across his throat in a gesture that tells the sound guys turn it off. He holds the mic to his lips and smiles.

JESTER: Gee-whiz gee-golly, it's been a long long time since I've been out here. ::he glances at his watch:: Actually, it's only been a little over a week. But hey, I missed everybody!!

The audience pops.

JESTER: ...Except Floyd.

FLOYD: Hey!

TETE: Oh, shut up, you deserve that.

FLOYD: No, I deserve millions of dollars and a dozen naked woman. I don't deserve this unwarranted abuse!

The Jester begins pacing across the stage. He absentmindedly pulls a rubber chicken out of his pocket and begins fiddling with it with his free hand while he speaks.

JESTER: Now, I know I've suffered a temporary setback... heck, it happens to the best of us. But hey, I'll let my haughty Handy friends have their fifteen minutes of frantic farcical fame... eventually, I'll manage to get my own back. Remember, a Jester never forgets.

PAPA: He's right, you know. According to standard rules, he's allowed a rematch to the title.

FLOYD: But his tag-team partner ditched him, Papa, a sign that the Chicken Choker isn't a complete idiot.

PAPA: I know, Floyd, but it wouldn't be the first time that the rematch rule came back to bite someone in the ass.

The Jester had made his way to the Abbottron support structure. He climbed up a few of the stabilization bars and leaned out, holding himself up by wrapping his arm around one of the poles.

JESTER: But enough of old gags and future pranks! I, the Ever-Effervescent Court Jester, know the need to move on to bigger and funnier things! So, without further ado, I'd like to welcome you all to my new friend and companion...

The Jester pauses, practically soaking in the growing anticipation of the crowd. The Jester hops off the support structure and holds his arm out.

JESTER: ... The muchly-loverly Jo Kirin!

"Pink Elephants On Parade" picks up again, just as a woman appears under the Abbottron. She's tall, and muscled well, built like a gymnast. Her eyes seem to be constantly half-lidded and she smiles smugly. She wears a tight (but not too tight) maroon-and-black jumpsuit with a large collar around her neck. She walks out to the center of the stage, and blows a few kisses to random members of the audience. The Jester walks over to her and drapes an arm over her shoulders.

JESTER: Hey, baby, how're ya doin'?

Jo takes the mic and flashes her teeth. When she speaks, her voice is surprisingly even and calm, the antithesis of the Jester's wavering warble.

JO: Just swell as a bell, you crazy clown, you.

FLOYD: NO! No no no!! This can't be!! There's TWO of 'em!!!

TETE: Calm down, Floyd, I want to hear this!

The Jester tilts the mic towards his own mouth...

JESTER: Tell all the nice people about yourself, sweetie, let 'em know who you are!

JO: All right. ::long pause... lo-o-o-o-o-ong pause:: I have breasts. That's about it.

The crowd cracks up at this gag. Jo and the Jester walk down the ramp towards the ring, the Jester clapping his friend on. Jo continues the bit going as she walks.

JO: Okay, okay, seriously... seriously? Yeah, right!

The crowd laughs again, a bit less enthusiastic than before. The Jester and Jo climb into the ring. The Jester hops on the turnbuckle and continues his grinning.

JO: Anyway, I'm supposed to introduce myself... I'm here to have fun, ladies and gentlemen. We... the Jester and I... are here to have fun. I know that some others here may consider that sinful, or unenlightened... ::she frowns slightly:: They're the sort of people who've got to lighten up before their heads explode from the stress.

Again, more laughter from the audience. Jo holds her arms out in front of her and falls backwards, tucking herself into a backwards somersault as she goes. She bounces back up to her feet. Her expression is still calm and collected.

JO: Just to emphasize my point, I'd like everyone to see this footage...

The Abbottron comes on to reveal a black-and-white view of one of the wrestler's bathrooms backstage. It shows Chet Stevens lumber into view, holding a stack of magazines under his arms, and enter one of the stalls. Nothing happens for a few moments...

JO: Let's fast-forward a tad...

The little timer in the corner of the screen accelerates. It proceeds past the fifteen-minute mark...

JO: Still going...

It passes the half-hour mark...

JO: Still going...

Finally, it reaches the fifty-three minute mark, and returns to normal speed. A few seconds later, Chet emerges from the stall, wearing a big, satisfied smile on his face. He turns back to look in the stall for a few moments, and makes a disgusted face, waving his hand in front of his face as he disappears from view. The footage comes to and end, and shuts off.

JO: As you can very well see, Mr. Stevens may have been "enlightened", but he's also quite constipated. ::she pauses:: What does this tell you, hmmm?

Her smirk spreads even wider as the crowd pops in mixed reaction, mostly humor (but some disgust).

FLOYD: What... when... how the hell did she get that footage?!?

TETE: It's called a "camera", Floyd.

FLOYD: You know what I mean, Papa! That's a men's room, and she's obviously not a man!!

TETE: Perhaps the Jester set it up for her.

FLOYD: And Chet Stevens?!? Why the hell would we want to see that lardass taking a--

TETE: Floyd, calm down.

FLOYD: No, I will NOT calm down, this has me really steamed!

TETE: Floyd, where are you...? Sit down...!

Floyd jumps up from his seat and grabs a mic from under the announcer's table. He jumps into the ring and interrupts Jo Kirin's monologue.

FLOYD: Stop it!! No more stupid jokes, no more footage, no mare inane chatter!! I can't stands no more!!

JO: Ah, hello. Audience, I'm sure you all know Floyd Hermesol...

FLOYD: Of course they know me! Everyone knows me!

Despite his annoyance, Floyd takes a second out of his annoyed tirade to turn to the audience and wave. Just as quickly, he turns back to Jo.

FLOYD: Look, I'm as much for humor as the next guy, but good humor requires something that neither of you have... talent!

TETE: Oh, boy... Floyd's going off again. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm going to take a break. ::there's some rustling as Papa Tete removes his headset::

FLOYD (pointing at the Jester): You've been annoying the audiences since day one! I know they're all sick of it! Well, they would be, if they weren't so... uh... entertained by it all...

The audience cheers. Floyd begins to get nervous as he realizes that he may have gotten in over his head. Jo continues staring at Floyd through her half-lidded eyes.

FLOYD: So... uh... what do you... er... that is, I mean to say... what do you say to that?!?

Floyd drops his arms to his side in his exaggerated indignance. Tiny beads of sweat begin dotting his forehead in his nervousness. Jo continues staring at him for a few moments more... finally, her mouth opens in a toothy grin, and she rushes forward and leaps towards Floyd. Floyd screeches and his eyes go wide. Jo wraps her legs around Floyd's waist and her arms around Floyd's neck, and plants her lips against his.

TETE (faintly, as he's not wearing his headset): Oh my God!

Jo releases Floyd from the kiss with a goofily audible "Smack!" The Jester completely breaks up laughing, falling off the turnbuckle and rolling on the mat. Jo drops to her feet and laughs at Floyd, who splutters and falls on his butt. He wipes his mouth on his jacket sleeve, spitting saliva all over the ring floor. He jumps back up to his feet and rushes back over to the ropes, and holds the mic back up to his lips to deliver his most witty retort to date:

FLOYD: Gah!

The crowd, shocked by the bizarre display, goes completely nuts as Floyd scrambles out of the ring and back to the announcer's table. He misses his chair in his haste and falls to the floor.

TETE (back on his headset, and laughing): My God, Floyd, that's the closest you've ever been to a woman in your life!!

FLOYD (also back on headset): Shut up, Papa, just shut up!! I've been traumatized by all this, I really have!! I think I need a rabies shot!

"Pink Elephants On Parade" hits the speakers for a third time, and the Jester and Jo, both still laughing hysterically, head back up the ramp. Jo pauses at the top of the ramp to again blow a few kisses to the audience, and then she blows one in Floyd's direction, as well.

TETE: It seems you've got a new friend, Floyd!

FLOYD: No! No no no! With friends like that, who needs Anthrax?!?

The two jokers disappear underneath the Abottron, leaving the crowd rolling in the aisles and wanting more.

TETE: Things seem to be getting a little steamy for our own Floyd Hermesol!

FLOYD: Shut up, shut up, shut up! I hereby decree that everyone will forget that this ever happened!

TETE: That what happened?

FLOYD: Good, you've already forgotten ::Floyd spits a bit more:: Ugh, she tastes like chicken! Rubber chicken!