FLOYD: AND I STILL DON'T HAVE ANY CANDY!!

TETE: Shut up, Floyd!! Here, have a tic-tac!

A haunting, flutey music picks up, signaling Avron Longarm's entrance. He heads down to the ring, bowing to the audience, the referee, and the annnouncers (well, Papa Tete, anyway).

TETE: What a polite, honorable young man.

FLOYD: What a weenie.

Longarm's music is replaced by "Cotton-Eye Joe". Mike the Chicken Eater appears, dressed in a black priest's uniform, wearing a yarmulke, carrying a statue of the Buddha under one arm and a book of the Analects of Confucious under the other. He grins to the audience as he walks down to the ring.

TETE & FLOYD (together): What the hell is this?!?!?

TETE: I knew we had some religious wackos in the USXWF, but this is completely ridiculous!!

FLOYD: And I thought he was an idiot BEFORE the you-know-who's broke up!

TETE: The Sideshow?

FLOYD: I told you to never mention that name in my presence.

TETE: Since when do I ever care what you say?

Mike hops up onto the ring apron, dropping his Buddha statue and his book in the corner. He then hops into the ring, and he and Longarm face off.

The bell sounds, and Mike immediately rushes forward, slamming his shoulder into Longarm's gut and grabbing hold of his leg, knocking Longarm off balance. The two fall to the ground, and Mike quickly rolls off, leaping up onto the ropes and bouncing off, landing back down on Longarm with a full-body splash. He stays there for a pin, but Longarm manages to kick out before the ref can even begin counting.

Longarm hops back to his feet and plants a spin-kick against the small of Mike's back. Mike falls back against the ropes, and pulls himself out between the second and third ropes. Longarm rushes forward to deliver an elbow to Mike's face, and Mike falls off the apron, but manages to keep his grip on the top rope.

Mike swings his legs back up and kicks Longarm in the face. Longarm stumbles back, allowing Mike to climb back into the ring. Mike jumps forward towards Longarm, but Longarm manages to sidestep the rush, and brings his leg out to trip Mike. Mike falls forward into the ropes and bounces off to the ground. Longarm climbs on top of Mike, pinning Mike's legs with his own, and pulling up on Mike's right arm.

TETE: It's Longarm's submission move, the Fallen Samurai! This could be the end of the match!

FLOYD: So soon? I'm only half-finished with my popcorn... ow, a kernel's stuck in my teeth!

Longarm leans back, practically pulling Mike's arm out of the socket. The ref gets on his knees, checking if Mike taps out, but Mike's face only shows the slightest hints of pain. He even manages to force a slight grin.

While Longarm keeps Mike in the submission hold, Jimmy Steele runs down the ramp, holding a piece of steel (no pun intended) pipe in his hand. He slides into the ring and swings the piece of metal across Longarm's head, knocking him to the mat. The ref glances up just in time to see Jimmy run out of the ring, and he immediately calls for the bell. He grabs Longarm's... uh... arm up, even though Longarm himself was still dazed from the blow to his head.

TETE: Mike loses by disqualification! Did Jimmy Steele do this to help Mike or to hurt Longarm?

FLOYDS: Maybe he did it because he's unstable?

Mike hops to his feet, then pushes the referee away. He then grabs Longarm by the leg and the arm and falls backward, tucking his legs in and pulling Longarm on top of them. To finish the move, Mike kicks his legs out, propelling Longarm several feet into the air to crash down again on the mat.

TETE: Whatever you may say about Mike, he's a strong little bastard. Resilient, too.

Mike up onto the turnbuckle and jumps down. As he does so, Longarm reaches out and grabs the Buddha statue that Mike brought down to the ring and swings it around as Mike comes down for a splash. The statue connects with Mike's head, and he plops down to the ring, dazed. Longarm takes the opportunity to slip out of the ring and head back up the ramp.

FLOYD: Coward!

TETE: He's no coward, the match is just over.

FLOYD: Well, it looks cowardly to me.

TETE: Maybe that's just because you're an idiot.

COMMERCIAL

TETE: We're back, and the maintenance staff has finished hooking up the gas pipes to the ring apron, ready to set off the Inferno match.

FLOYD: Yeah, here's hoping that both nutcases fry each other. We'll have some crispy-fried Fundie!!

TETE: Floyd, why do you even open your mouth when the only things that come out of it are utter and complete idiocy?

FLOYD: Because they shine like pearls under the sun and should be admired for the wisdom they truely are, Papa.

TETE: Yeah, they shine just like a toilet in Grand Central Station...

The crowd pops as Rob Zombie's "Superbeast" blasts from the speakers. The Harbinger steps out from under the Abbottron, slightly supporting the Gatekeeper, whose face still has a bandage or two on it covering the last of the burns from the acid. He glares at the cheering crowd as he leads his manager down to the ring and steps under the ropes. He takes a mic and faces back up at the Abbottron.

HARBINGER: Fate, I know you can hear this. For what he did to the Gatekepper, with that horrific misuse of overt violence, your Reverend got exactly what he deserved. Come out here, Fate, and I'll put the Mark of Cain on you and do to you exactly what I did to that Reverend of yours. Come, see the power of Armageddon, for the end is nigh.

With that the Harbinger, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, throws out his arms and the turnbuckles burst into flame. The crowd enthusiastically pops and the arena goes dark at the sound of a churchbell, the turnbuckles casting the ring into flickering shadows.

When the Gregorian chants begin a dark shape blurs down the ramp and flies into the ring, sliding under the ropes to take the Harbinger at the knees. When the lights come back on, Fate is sitting astride him, viciously pounding into him, a look of complete and utter rage twisting Fate's face into a mask of hate.

FLOYD: Oooooh, I'm the scary Harbinger, stealing openings from Kane and Undertaker before he became a big fat biker.

TETE: You know, Floyd, one of these days a wrestler, particularly one as big as the Harbinger or Fate, will see a taping of this show and get really pissed at you.

FLOYD: You know what, Papa? I don't worry about it.

TETE: Why is that?

FLOYD: Because if they can hear me over the voices in their heads, then it would really be a miracle.

TETE: I know what you'd be, hospitalized.

The two evenly-matched behemoths go at it as the bell rings. The Harbinger manages to roll Fate over and gives as good as he got, pounding into Fate with fists the size of small hams. The two massive men roll across the mat, each gaining the upper hand and trading blows with the other, before Harbinger manages to flip Fate over his head when he rolls over.

As Harbinger gets to his feet, he is caught by a powerful clothesline that all but takes his head off, flipping the big man off of his feet. Fate is once again on top of him, trying to choke him, but the Harbinger manages to toss throw Fate off of him.

TETE: My God! I don't know what scares me more, that Fate nearly tore the Harbinger's head off with that clothesline or that Harbinger managed to then throw Fate off of him.

FLOYD: Well you know, those religious nuts are pretty good throwers with all the dogma they toss around.

TETE: Overweight people, handicap people, homosexual people, Mexicans, the Japanese, now religious people. Floyd, is there anyone you will NOT be sued by?

FLOYD: Yes.

TETE: Who?

FLOYD: People named Floyd.

TETE: Thank God that there's a scant few of THOSE in the world...

Both combatants get up and circle each other, each snarling at the other, when they both race forward and lockup. They struggle with each other before the Harbinger whips Fate into the ropes. As Fate rebounds, Harbinger grips his throat with both hands and lifts him into the air to slam him into the mat with a sitting powerbomb.

TETE: There, there, that was one of Harbinger's token moves, the Ninth Gate.

FLOYD: Yet another move that Harbinger has stolen from a movie title. He could've at least picked a good movie title to steal.

Fate slowly tries to get to his feet while Harbinger kicks him in the ribs, trying to keep the big man down. Fate manages to get to his knees and catches Harbinger's foot as he attempts to kick him. Pulling backward, Fate causes the Harbinger to stumble forward and drives a fist into Harbingers stomach, doubling him over. Fate gets to his feet and a double fisted punch knocks the Harbinger upright, prime position for Fate to grip his face, lift him into the air, and slam him back into the mat as Harbinger had earlier.

TETE: It looks like Fate comes back with his own token maneuver, the aptly named Hand of Fate!

FLOYD: The uncreatively-named, you mean.

As Harbinger attempts to get to his feet, Fate straddles his back and slams down on him, locking his hands under Harbinger's chin, and forcing his head back in a submission move. He presses his hands together like he is praying and pulls backwards, forcing pressure on the Harbinger's neck and spine.

TETE: Holy Hell, we're seeing both wrestlers pull out all the stops tonight... Fate's submission hold, the Father's Blessing! First time seen on the USXWF, or anywhere else for that matter!

FLOYD: You know, I would have paid more to NOT see it.

TETE: You haven't paid anything. In fact, I think you still owe me ten bucks.

FLOYD: I'll pay you next week, Papa. How about lending me that ten 'til then?

Fate continues to pull back on the Harbinger's neck and the Harbinger

begins to push up with his arms. At first there seems to be no apparent effect but slowly Fate is pushed back so that he has to shift his weight to not lose his balance.

Harbinger's teeth gritting, an audible growl coming from him, he begins to push Fate backwards. Slowly getting one leg under him, then the other, Harbinger manages to stand Fate up then whip him into the ropes and then whip him into a turnbuckle.

Fate immediately recoils from the heat, leaping forward to tackle Harbinger, showing a large burned away portion of his robes as he begins to pummel the Harbinger. With a stunning kick to the head, Fate drags the Harbinger over to a turnbuckle and presses his face against it, burning his left cheek.

But the Harbinger isn't finished yet as he mulekicks Fate right below the belt. Fate drops to his knees with a silent cry and receives a DDT right into the turnbuckle by the Harbinger. Again the giant recoils from the heat and receives a supplex from the Harbinger, nearly tossing the other man across the ring in the process.

Fate lies dazed on the floor of the ring as the Harbinger stomps over to him and drags him to a corner. Ignoring the head of the blaze yet being careful not to catch himself on fire and lose the match, Harbinger climbs to the top rope, and slowly drags Fate up across the lower turnbuckles. As he clears the last turnbuckle, Fate's robes burst into flames around him.

FLOYD: Fire, fire!! Burn, baby, burn!!

TETE: Shut up, you pyro, the match is over! Harbinger wins! Now someone get over there with a fire extinguisher.

The Harbinger mouths the recognizable words "Mark of Cain" as he looks at the burning form in his hands and pulls Fate up with an amazing feat of strength so that he is sitting on Harbinger's shoulders facing behind the Harbinger. With a scream of rage, Harbinger slams Fate down onto the mat with a crucifix Powerbomb from the top turnbuckle. Getting up, he says some unheard things to the burning pile in the middle of the ring before collecting the Gatekeeper and walking off the arena floor. Just then, ringside assistants hop in, bearing fire extinguishers. They spray the heat-retardant all over Fate, dousing the flames.

TETE: Fate was on fire for several seconds!! Look at the remains of his robes!!

FLOYD: He looks pretty badly burned, Papa...

An EMT squad runs out, bearing an extra-large stretcher. Fate tries to climb to his feet, revealing a few first- and second-degree burns on his hands and face, but the medical team insists that he stay still. They begin bandaging him up with burn salve before they haul him onto the stretcher.

TETE: Fate got burned, but it doesn't look too bad... although I doubt he'll be able to wrestle next Tuesday.