Weekend Warbash

We come back from commercial just in time to see the lights dim in the USXWF arena. An explosion rocks the massive chamber, and "Hot Dog" by Limp Bizkit comes up over the loudspeakers. James Sharp appears underneath the Abbottron. He ambles down to the ring and jumps up onto the ropes, holding is arms into the air.

TETE: Our next match is going to be James Sharp versus Chet Stevens! One member of the Roman Empire against one member of the Servants of Shiva!

FLOYD: One loudmouthed braggart versus one fatassed braggart?

TETE: Despite the inflammatory tone of that comment, I'd have to say yes, Floyd.

Sharp's theme is replaced by "Burn Hollywood". Chet Stevens walks out under the Abbottron to a chorus of boos from the audience. He shouts his displeasure at their reaction as he walks down the ramp and climbs into the ring.

The bell rings, and Sharp rushes forward, smashing his elbow into Chet Steven's head. Chet staggers, and Sharp continues pounding the larger man with numerous blows to the head and upper torso. After a few moments, Sharp whips Chet into the opposite corner, then follows after by slamming his shoulder in between Chet's shoulder blades. Chet staggers forward, and Sharp jumps forward, intending to deliver a Bulldog to Stevens. However, Chet, almost instinctively, whirls around and catches Sharp in mid-air and swings him around into a Samoan Drop.

TETE: Chet Stevens definitely showing his ability to quickly recover from a pounding!

FLOYD: It seems that's the only thing he can do "quickly".

Chet stomps away at Sharp for a few moments, then bounces off the rope and uses the momentum to drop his elbow down across Sharp's forehead. Chet then jumps back up to his feet, grabs Sharp and hoists him up onto one of his shoulders, and slams him back down to the mat. Chet quickly goes for a cover...

TETE: We may have a winner in this match!

The ref begins counting, but Sharp manages to get his shoulder up by the 2-count.

FLOYD: How did he manage to break the pin with seven thousand pounds of fat on top of him?!?

TETE: Perhaps Sharp got an adrenaline rush from having so much sweaty flab on top of him.

FLOYD (gasping): Papa!! Did you just insult someone?!?

TETE: I'm not all peaches 'n cream, you know.

Chet pulls Sharp to his feet and smashes his elbow into the back of his neck a few times, then throws him into the ropes. Sharp bounces back, and ducks underneath Chet's clothesline, and bounces off the opposite ropes. He jumps into the air and delivers a dropkick to the small of Stevens' back. Chet stumbles into the ropes and bounces off himself, and Sharp grabs him and delivers a powerful DDT. Sharp goes for a cover, but Chet manages to kick out.

TETE: This match has been incredibly close so far. Neither man seems capable of keeping the other down for the count!

FLOYD: Perhaps they should use chairs.

TETE: Floyd, you know that's against the roles.

FLOYD: But it's still fun.

Chet climbs to his knees, and Sharp wraps his arms around Chet's neck to apply a sleeper hold. Chet struggles, trying to pull Sharp's arms away, but after a minute or so, his arms begin to go limp. The ref lifts Chet's arm, and it falls to his side. The ref tries again, with the same result. For a third time, the ref lifts Chet's arm, but this time, Chet manages to keep his arm in the air. With a determined bellow, Chet rises to his feet, pulling James Sharp up with him. Chet stumbles around a bit, then, with an eerily-long pause, he jerks his legs, leaping into the air, and landing on his back, smashing James Sharp underneath him.

FLOYD: Oh my God, the weight of the world has landed on James Sharp!!

TETE: I think James may have broken some ribs just now!

Chet drops a cover onto Sharp, and the ref leaps down and makes the 3-count. The bell rings, and the ref holds up Chet's meaty arm in victory.

TETE: Check to see if Sharp is alive! He's been completely crushed under Chet Stevens' body!

FLOYD: Check to see if the ring is structurally sound! We may need an engineering team out here!

Chet Stevens climbs out of the ring and returns back up the ramp with "Burn Hollywood" pumping out of the arena's speakers. James Sharp is still lying in the middle of the ring, his eyes wide open and his mouth forming a perfect "O".

TETE: We have to go to a commercial... let's hope that Sharp isn't dead when we come back!

FLOYD: I just think it's a miracle his innards haven't splashed all over the ring...

COMMERCIAL

TETE: And we're back, and it seems as if James Sharp is alive... although a tad flattened.

FLOYD: I think I know how he lived, Papa.

TETE: Oh, this oughta be rich...

FLOYD: See, I figure that since Chet is so full of hot air, that'd make him fall slower, and have less of an impact when he landed on James Sharp!

TETE: Again, Floyd, you amaze the universe, and myself, with another display of twisted idiocy.

FLOYD: I know! Ain't it great?!?

The reparte' between the two announcers is interrupted by "Southtown" blasting over the speakers. Dino Fischetti and Big Bald Bitch, Diry Deeds, step out from under the Abbottron, dressed in their now-standard black trenchcoats and wraparound reflective sunglasses. Each carries a nearly-finished cigar and takes one last puff before tossing the stubs away. They head down the ramp in matched step, glancing side-to-side at the audience. They climb into the ring, and BBB gestures for a mic. After receiving one, he holds it up to his mouth, prompting a hush to fall over the audience.

BBB: I'd think that I've already said too damned much about those Sister Hands, but apparently, they're too [beep]in' stupid to figure out that they're about to get their asses handed to them!

DINO (grabbing the mic): There's nothing I'd love better than to leave those wussy little [beep]'s stewing in their own self-righteousness, but they've touched a couple of raw nerves in ol' Dino, so I think that the right thing to do would be to put those [beep]ing [beep]'s in their place! Whattaya think?!?

He holds the mic out to the audience, and receives a roaring cheer of approval.

DINO (grinning): That's what I thought.

"Mahadeva" hits, and the Brothers Hand march out, their shaved heads bowed solemnly, their bodies covered in coarse robes. They disrobe at the top of the ramp, revealing the both of them to be holding mic's.

REMINGTON: Words.

CYRIL: Words.

REMINGTON & CYRIL (together): Words.

REMINGTON: Pretty speeches.

CYRIL: Rousing talk.

REMINGTON & CYRIL (together): Spouting idiocy.

REMINGTON: Surely you don't think that we're afraid of a pair of pot-smoking loudmouthed fools, do you?

CYRIL: We've said it before, and we will continue preaching our truth... you will fall beneath our righteousness and our enlightenment!

DINO: I'll fall, all right, but from [beep]in' boredom!! Get your whiny asses down to the ring, Jeezers, and let's see how much [beep]in' bang is in your buck!

REMINGTON: More words from the soiled child.

BBB: "Soiled child"? How about this, you half-messiah wannabe? You've already got your titles on the line tonight... how about we make this a Hardcore match?!?

The crowd pops again in anticipation of an exceptionally violent match being performed.

TETE: A Hardcore match?!? This is going to be interesting!

FLOYD: Don't do it, Hands, they probably have shotguns hidden under their coats!

TETE: I wouldn't have thought that'd trouble you, Floyd, to see the Brothers Hand get shot.

FLOYD: Hey, they might accidently shoot me, and then the whole world would miss out on the glory that is Floyd!

TETE: I would think that to be an argument in favor of them using shotguns.

Meanwhile, Remington and Cyril glance at each other, then around at the audience, obviously nervous. After a few seconds, they regain their composure.

REMINGTON: Steel chairs and large egos do nothing to dampen our truth. You're on.

The Brothers sprint down to the ring, and circle around to grab a chair each. While they're doing this, both Dino and BBB produce a baseball bat from inside of their coats. The Brothers slide into the ring, holding their chairs up to attack, but Dino and BBB swing their bats, catching the Brothers in their respective midsections. Both Remington and Cyril go down, Dirty Deeds splits up to take on one brother each.

Dino grabs Cyril and pulls him into a corner. He props Cyril up on the turnbuckle, then grabs ahold of the ropes on either side, and begins smashing his head into Cyril's midsection. After a few moments, Dino wraps his arms around Cyril's waist, and hauls him over his shoulder into a suplex. Finally, Dino climbs atop of the turnbuckle, and jumps off, bring his elbow down across Cyril's stomach.

Meanwhile, BBB pounds his bat across Remington's back for a few moments, then tosses his weapon aside, and pulls Remington to his feet and tosses him into the turnbuckle opposite of Dino. He begins throwing punches against Remington's midsection and face, pounding so hard that Remington gets pushed up onto the turnbuckle. Bitch climbs onto the second rope, wraps his arm around Remington's head, and jumps outward, bringing Remington down face-first into the mat.

TETE: The Brothers Hand are being completely dominated over so far in this match! We may see the belts change hands tonight!

FLOYD: Ah, Papa, this is only a weekly show... titles only change hands during Pay-Per-View's.

Both Dino and BBB haul their respective Hand's to their feet, and hurl them towards each other. Remington and Cyril collide in the center of the ring and fall limply to the floor.

Dino hops out one side of the ring, and Big Bald Bitch jumps down from the other. They both reach under the ring and slide a table into the ring...

TETE: Oh no... tables!

FLOYD: Oh boy... tables!

Dino then slide a third table into the ring, while BBB brings out a 12-foot ladder...

TETE: Oh no... ladders!

FLOYD: Oh boy... ladders!

Dino sets up one table, and BBB hauls Remington on top of it. Dino sets up a second table, stacks that on top of the first, and they both haul Cyril up on top of that. Big Bald Bitch then sets up the third table and reaches up to stack that on top of the second, while Dino sets up the ladder right beside them.

TETE: They've set up three tables stacked on top of another, with Remington on the first table, and Cyril on the second!

FLOYD: And Joseph Smith on the third!

Dino climbs up the ladder, finally stopping on the third-to-last step. The crowd, going insane at the spectacle, shouts even more. Several fans pour up against the barricades, yelling at Dino to jump.

TETE: Don't jump, Dino, you'll kill yourself!

FLOYD: Jump, Dino, you'll kill yourself!

With a maniacal grin, Dino throws his arms up and howls, then crouches, and pushes off from the ladder. He flips over in the air, his coat flapping behind him like dark angelic wings. He smashes into the first table, falls through onto Cyril, and the two of them shatter through to the third table, crashing into Remington and shattering the last table.

TETE: OH MY GOD, HE JUMPED!!! DINO FISCHETTI MAY HAVE JUST KILLED THE BROTHERS HAND, AND HIMSELF IN THE PROCESS!!

The tower of tables shatters outward, and one of the pieces smacks the referee upside the head. The ref falls to the ground, unconscious.

Big Bald Bitch begins tossing pieces of shattered table out of the ring, trying to separate his partner from his enemies. Finally, he pulls Cyril out, and pulls Dino atop of him. Just then, he notices that the ref is unconscious. He pulls the ref up and slaps him a couple times, trying to wake him up. He props the ref against the turnbuckle and shouts a little, to no avail.

TETE: It looks like they're still breathing, but with no ref, we're not going to have anyone win this match!

FLOYD: "The Match That Would Not Be Won", eh, Papa?

TETE: This is no time for weirdness, Floyd! This is serious business!

FLOYD: Ha! I don't know the meaning of the word "serious"!

TETE: We already know you failed Basic English class, Floyd.

After a few moments, BBB jumps out of the ring and sprints out one of the side entrances beside the entrance ramp. He returns a few seconds later, carrying a metal pail full of water. He jumps back into the ring and splashes the water in the referee's face. The ref jerks awake, completely disoriented by his experience. BBB yells and points at Dino, and the ref dives down to begin counting as soon as he notices the cover. Unfortunately, Cyril manages to kick out just before the 3-count.

TETE: Holy hell, he should be barely alive, much less able to continue the match!

FLOYD: They've got the power of God on their side, Papa! Beware their magic Bible powers!

Cyril pushes a still unconscious Dino away and begins to climb to his feet, but BBB begins stomping away at him, delivering several kicks to Cyril's head and torso. Cyril tightens up into a little ball to protect himself against the onslaught.

While BBB was focused on beating Cyril, Remington hauls himself out of the table wreckage. He climbs slowly, and quietly, to his feet. After taking a few seconds to regain his composure, he snatches up the metal pail that BBB brought into the ring. He steps up behind BBB...

FLOYD: Turn around, Bitch, turn around!!

Big Bald Bitch actually does so, whirling around just in time to see Remington swing the pail against BBB's face. BBB falls backward, and Remington drops for the cover... 1... 2... 3!

TETE: I don't know how it's possible, but somehow, the Brothers Hand managed to pull off a victory!!

Remington pulls his brother up onto his shoulder, and the two brothers jump out of the ring and head back up the ramp, leaving Dirty Deeds lying in the ring.

COMMERCIAL

We come back from commercial as "Duel of the Fates" hits and the Mask begins the long walk from the top of the ramp to the ring, Tanner following behind him on the mic.

TANNER: Malice, you've done a very foolish thing ... you've angered me and my charge, and neither of us much like to be disrespected in that fashion. On top of that, you've made the very innocent Rico Laser the target of your misguided rage, and my charge and I - for reasons we would rather not go into - would prefer Rico Laser be mercilessly trouncing you on the 26th rather than the other way around. So, we're going to do our best to help Mr. Laser out this evening and prepare you, as well, for the beating you shall surely receive next Sunday.

Tanner throws the mic away.

TETE: What do you think the connection is between Rico Laser and the Mask?

FLOYD: I don't know. In fact, I'm pretty sure Laser doesn't even know.

TETE: Why do you say that?

FLOYD: Did you see his face a couple of weeks ago when Tanner and the Mask walked out on that tag match? He has no idea what's going on.

TETE: Did you just make a point, Floyd?

FLOYD: I hope not. If I did, I'm ruining my shot at the record.

"Supernova Goes Pop" hits as the Mask and Tanner stand in the center of the ring, waiting for Malice's arrival.

Malice comes down the ramp again. This time he doesn't even have his mask on. He is unshaven, clearly hasn't bathed or slept or possibly even eaten in days, and his eyes have a haunted, vacant look in them.

TETE: My God! Look at Malice! He's in no shape to wrestle tonight!

FLOYD: Oh, c'mon, Poppa! He's gotta play through the pain!

TETE: Floyd, what you're saying is completely irresponsible! That man doesn't need a match against one of the most dangerous fighters in this fed, he needs a meal and a decent night's sleep.

FLOYD (smirks): And this guy is supposed to be among the best in the business. What's his problem, anyway?

TETE: I'll tell you a secret, Floyd: deep down, I don't think he believes Rico Laser kidnapped his sister. I think he thinks it's a red herring. But he wants revenge and wants it now.

FLOYD: Well, jeez! I could've told him that!

TETE: You're hardly an unbiased third party.

Malice halfheartedly climbs into the ring and stands nose-to-nose ... or rather, nose-to-chest ... with the towering behemoth. He looks up at the Mask, then looks at Tanner, who is smiling sadistically, waiting anxiously for Malice to make the wrong move and piss the Mask off. Malice returns the smile, but there's an unbalanced glint to it. Then he turns around and starts to walk out.

TETE: Good for you! Go home, get some rest, Malice!

FLOYD: Uh, I don't think the Mask is going to let that happen!

Indeed, the Mask grabs Malice by the shoulder and whirls him around. He lifts Malice up by the shoulders so they are eye-to-eye. The slightly vacant, dull look is still in Malice's eyes. The Mask growls as Tanner yells for the Mask to destroy Malice. The Mask begins by tossing Malice through the air and across the ring. Malice suddenly springs to life, bouncing off the ropes and giving the Mask a flying dropkick! Electrified, Malice grabs the Mask up by the hair and, unbridled fury flashing across his face, tosses him headfirst into a steel turnbuckle. Malice pulls the Mask out from between the ropes, then DDTs him to the mat.

TETE: Malice coming to life suddenly and devastatingly!

FLOYD: Still think he needs a nap?

Malice doesn't bother going for the pin. Instead he heads out of the ring, a completely lights-on-no-one-home look gracing his visage. He reaches under the ring and comes up with a trash can, which he brings with him into the ring and begins to beat the Mask with. The ref rings the bell, signalling a DQ. He tries to break it up, but Malice nails him with the lid of the trash can, then piledrives Tanner, who is trying to interfere.

TETE: Malice has lost it! He's gone, completely gone!

FLOYD: I can't believe this is the guy you used to respect so much.

TETE: If you'd been through what he's been through, you'd be snapping too, dammit!

Malice heads out of the ring again. Just then, Rico Laser runs out of the audience, crowbar clutched in his hands. He attacks from behind and lays Malice out!

TETE: Well, normally I don't approve of Laser's interference, but in this case it seems called for.

FLOYD: Oh! Look everyone, Poppa's not a complete Malice mark!

TETE: Shut up, Floyd. I still feel for Malice.

Laser calls the Mask over and they begin to work Malice over mercilessly with any weapon they can get their hands on.

TETE: Oh, come on! This is completely wrong!

Laser DDTs Malice into the steel steps, then whacks him across the back with a steel chair. He and the Mask continue to take turns whaling on Malice with their chosen implements of destruction.

TETE: Someone put a stop to this, for God's sake!

Tanner is holding the extremely heavy steel steps over his head and is about to bring them down on Malice's head when suddenly three ropes fly down from the rafters.

FLOYD: What the heck is this?

Seemingly out of nowhere, Angst, Odium, and Spite slide down the ropes and into the ring. Odium and Angst make immediately for the Mask and Tanner, while Spite climbs to the top turnbuckle closest to Laser and performs an absolutely perfect hurricanrana on Laser, smashing his face into the concrete floor!

TETE: The Family sticks together!

FLOYD: Cuckoos of a feather flock together, after all!

Angst has just smashed Tanner's head against the steel steps he was holding above his head just moments ago, and Odium and the Mask are battling their way to the back. Malice is up and trying to hit Laser, but he's badly injured and isn't thinking very clearly. One of his eyes is bleeding, and one of his ears is, as well. He kicks at Laser for a few moments, then keels over and collapses. Angst and Spite pull Malice up and drag him up the ramp, although he kind of halfheartedly fights to escape.

TETE: Malice is being pulled, reluctantly, to safety by his siblings, and Laser and Tanner are absolutely wrecked on the concrete floor outside the ring! And the Mask and Odium ... well who knows? What do you make of this, Floyd?

FLOYD: I think it's time for a commercial.

TETE: Why do I even bother? All you're interested in are commercials.

FLOYD: The commercials are when I take my medicine, Poppa. You know that.

TETE: Yep. Dr. Jim Beam. Been your doctor for a long time, hasn't he?

FLOYD: Very funny. Anyway, commercial time, right?

TETE: Right. We'll be back with the main event, folks!

COMMERCIAL

We come back from commercial just as "Nebraska Fight Song" hits and the Lineman comes down to the ring. No footballs tonight, no jerseys. He's deadly serious.

TETE: The Lineman is deadly serious this evening, no doubt.

FLOYD: Is there an echo in here? I don't get it, Poppa, did he say he was going to call it down the middle or not?

TETE: I couldn't tell either, Floyd.

"Fuck 'em and Their Law" hits and C-Cube and Scott Raye come down. Scott Raye has a mic in his hand and speaks in a flat monotone.

RAYE: Lineman, I hope you know what you're doing. For the sake of whatever friendship we had, I don't want you to call this anything but fairly. Otherwise, you'll have to be hurt later on.

As Raye is finishing, he gets in the ring. The Lineman stares him down, then holds out his hand, asking for the mic. Raye hands it to him, and the Lineman raises it to his lips.

LINEMAN: You can both rot in hell.

He nails both C-Cube and Raye over the head with the mic!

TETE: Oh my God! The Lineman has just shown his true colors, and they're the ones we all hoped we'd see!

The Brothers Hand and Chet Stevens come out and begin whaling on the Lineman, who manages to back himself into a corner, then hit all three with a Flying Tackle! The crowd explodes as the Lineman begins gesturing for the Roman Empire to come out, and quick.

"Sad but True" hits, and Steve Roman runs down, followed by Greg Tibbs and the rest of the Empire. Roman pins C-Cube and Tibbs pins Raye. The Lineman counts. 1...2...3! He orders the bell to be rung, and the match is over before it's even begun. The Lineman exits quickly up the ramp, ignoring the backslaps and attempted handshakes from the Empire.

TETE: That may have been the quickest match in recorded history, Floyd!

The Roman Empire starts grabbing things out from under the ring, anything they can get their hands on. Tire irons, baseball bats, wrenches. Tibbs pulls out his trusty iron bar, and they begin to advance on the Servants of Shiva, who are just regaining their bearings. The Servants get into battle positions, all except for C-Cube, who merely points above the Roman Empire's heads at the Abbottron, which has come to life, showing the underground parking garage. There is a fetching young woman bound and gagged, in a fetal position, inside the trunk of a car. Dino yelps and immediately exits.

TETE: What the hell is this?

FLOYD: Another sister?

TETE: None of these men have a sister, do they, Floyd?

FLOYD: Too coincidental anyway.

The rest of the Roman Empire reluctantly, led by Steve Roman, rush off and make for the parking garage.

We cut to the parking garage as C-Cube grins at the screen.

Dino is leading the way. He gets to the young woman and quickly begins to untie her. Just then, a van barrels around the corner, clearly aiming for the Roman Empire! Everyone scatters but Dino, who is still untying the young woman. She manages to help free herself and scrambles over the hood of the car whose trunk she was in. Dino is left helpless as the van careens toward him! Out of nowhere, a mysterious figure darts out and pulls Dino to safety just as the van screeches over the place Dino was standing.

TETE: Someone just tried to pull a Steve Austin on Dino Fischetti ... using that poor young woman as bait!

FLOYD: God ... how unoriginal. I suppose Rikishi was driving?

TETE: Not in THIS fed, pal.

Dino turns around, searching for the person who pulled him out of harm's way. There is a madcap laugh from above them, and Dino looks up ... just as the last bell on the Court Jester's hat can be seen disappearing around a corner on the second level of the garage.

TETE: NO! The Court Jester just saved one of his sworn enemies' bacon!

FLOYD: I refuse to believe the Court Jester capable of an act of such selflessness. I mean, c'mon, have you ever talked to the guy?

TETE: And who was it that was driving that van? All the known members of the Servants of Shiva were in the ring! And who in the world is that young woman? We'll find out next week on Weekend Warbash!