POD's "Southtown" comes up over the speakers, and Dino Fischetti appears, dressed in his now-standard trenchcoat and dark glasses. He receives a very mixed reaction from the crowd. He tilts his head back and howls before coming down to the ring.

TETE: I guess that's why they call him "Mad Dog".

FLOYD: 'Cuz he's a 65-ton battlemech?

TETE (pause): Floyd, you get weirder every day.

The music is replaced by "Lollipop". Mr. Mint appears, stepping briskly out from under the Abbottron, tossing small candies into the audience. He then stops and gestures back towards the Abbottron, and Candyman appears. He looks fresh and ready for the match. He steps down the ramp towards the ring, flashing his award-winning grin to the audience. He pauses at the bottom of the ramp and glances up at Dino. Dino only grins wildly. After a few moments, Candyman turns and says a few words to Mr. Mint. With a grudging nod, Mr. Mint hurries back up the ramp.

TETE: It seems that Candyman knows that this match, a Hardcore match, can and mostly likely will turn violent!

FLOYD: Mr. Mint's just a candy-ass.

TETE: Pun intended, Floyd?

FLOYD: Damn straight.

As soon as Mr. Mint leaves, Candyman turns back towards the ring... just in time to see Dino leaping over the ropes. Dino crashes down on Candyman, and Candyman goes sprawling. Dino is back on his feet almost immediately, and he reaches into his coat and produces his weapon-of-choice, a sawed-off baseball bat with a steel pipe inserted down the middle. Dino hauls Candyman to his feet and props him up against the ring and swings the bat against his gut. Candyman doubles over, and Dino swings it across his back. Candyman falls to the floor, right beside the ring.

TETE: Dino's off to an excellent start! He's dominating this match!

FLOYD: Dominating? I didn't know he was into that sort of thing!

TETE: Shut up, Floyd.

Dino throws his arms in the air, shouting in victory. He doesn't notice Candyman reach under the ring and grab a lead pipe. Candyman swings the pipe and catches Dino in the shin. Dino's shout of victory ends in a yelp of pain as he goes down on one knee. Candyman swings the pipe again, but Dino manages to bring his sawed-off bat up and nails Candyman in the wrist. Both men drop their weapons and go at it fist-to-fist. Dino, being the better street-fighter, soon pushes Candyman up against the barricade. Fans swarm around them as Dino delivers one last swing across Candyman's face (clipping one especially-zealous fan in the process) and Candyman flips over the barricade.

FLOYD: Woohoo, we're dragging the audience into this one!

TETE: Oh, lordy, I'm sure glad the USXWF has decided to require people to sign waivers in order to attend these events!

Candyman climbs back to his feet as Dino hops over the barricade. They fight their way through the crowd and wind up in the backstage area. R.F. Quenton appears, saying "Have either of you seen Malice?", but Dino just snarls at him, and Quenton screeches and hurries off. Candyman uses Dino's distraction, and grabs Dino's head and slams into into the wall. Candyman then plants a few kicks to Dino's midsection, then slams his head into a nearby drinking fountain, then turns the faucet on.

CANDYMAN: Have a drink, Mad Dog, drink it up!

DINO: ::glub!::

Dino plants his elbow into Candyman's gut and takes a few stumbling steps down the hallway. He finds himself right next to an emergency fire hose, and with a wicked gleam in his eye, he smashes the glass with a well-placed punch.

DINO: You want water?!? I'll give you some [beep]in' water!

Dino pulls out the hose and switches it on, releasing a massive torrent of dihydrogen monoxide down the hallways. It knocks Candyman off his feet. Candyman manages to struggle to his knees, and he ducks out a side door into the loading docks. Dino switches the hose off and follows after him.

TETE: Holy Hellenism, these men are tearing the whole arena apart!

FLOYD: At least they're not tearing the audience apart!

Dino catches up with Candyman just on top of the loading docks. Dino rushes forward and grabs Candyman's legs, and lifts up, suplexing Candyman into a pile of boxes. The boxes break open, revealing their contents... bags upon bags of tortilla chips. Several of the bags tear, and a whole torrent of chips engulfs the loading bay. Candyman kicks his legs out and catches Dino in the jaw. Dino falls off the bay... into a huge rack of folding chairs.

TETE: Oh my God, that's enough chairs to conquer China with.

FLOYD: With a "Y" or an "I"?

Candyman hops off the loading docks and grabs a chair, just as Dino climbs back to his feet wielding a chair of his own. They face off for a few moments, but Candyman eventually decides that discretion is the better part of valor, and he drops his chair and runs.

FLOYD: Coward!

TETE: Genius!

Dino howls and gives chase, swinging his chair like a war hammer. The two leave the loading docks and eventually find themselves out in the audience's parking lot. Candyman ducks behind a massive Ford Excursion, and Dino follows right after just in time for Candyman's foot to sweep out and trip him. Dino falls forward, smashing his face into his chair. Candyman goes to roll him over for a pin, but Dino simply swings his chair up as he rolls, catching Candyman upside the head. Candyman stumbles into a nearby Honda Civic.

TETE: Hey, be careful! They might ruin someone's car!

FLOYD: Don't sweat it, Papa, some people would pay good money to have their car trashed by Dino Fischetti!

Dino swings his chair again, then tosses it aside and hauls Candyman atop the Civic. Then, with a wild grin and a crazed grunt, climbs up onto the bumper of the Excursion, then pulls himself on top of it. He steps to the edge, and with his arms spread wide, allowing his jacket to catch the slight breeze, he leaps off the massive car and sails down to smash Candyman, and the roof of the Civic. The windshield shatters and the doors bend. Dino stays on top of Candyman for a pin, and the ref (who somehow managed to keep up with all of this) leaps to the edge of the car and counts... 1... 2... 3! Dino retains his Hardcore title!

TETE: They've absolutely destroyed that car! Dino may have absolutely destroyed Candyman!

Dino climbs to his feet and grins at the camera, then begins walking back towards the USXWF arena. The ref pokes Candyman, and amazingly, Candyman manages to sit up! He shakes his head a few times, then pulls himself out of the massive dent in the Civic's roof. He jumps down to his feet, a tad shaky at first, but with a grim nod he, too, heads back towards the arena.

FLOYD: Damn, I miss those Hardcore matches, Papa! They leave a sweet feeling in the air!

TETE: You're a sick, sick man, Floyd.

FLOYD: Wanna know how sick I can be? What do you get when you put a baby in a blender?

TETE: CUT TO COMMERCIAL! CUT TO COMMERCIAL!

COMMERCIAL

We come back from commercial again to R.F. Quenton standing in front of Malice's door again. Diego Cabrera passes by and Quenton grabs his shoulder.


QUENTON: Mr. Cabrera, I'm just waiting here for Malice and I was wondering if you'd be willing to answer a few questions.

CABRERA: All right, but let's do this quick, okay?

QUENTON: Yes, sure. Mr. Cabrera, first of all, you've said that your tenure as CEO is almost up - who's taking your place?

CABRERA: Once again, that really isn't my place to say. I've heard rumors, but nothing solid.

QUENTON: And when do you expect to be done?

CABRERA: I promised I'd leave when they'd picked out a new CEO. They haven't yet, so...

QUENTON: Did Rico Laser ever take that paternity test?

CABRERA: Yes ... I don't think I should discuss the results here, but I will say that he and I have resolved our differences. I don't think we'll ever be as close as we were, but I don't want to kill him now.

QUENTON: That's nice.

CABRERA: Yes ... anyway, I've got to be going. I need to get on the phone to Steve Roman and convince him not to leave the fed.

QUENTON: Okay. Oh, Mr. Cabrera ...

CABRERA: Yes?

QUENTON: Have you seen Malice today?

CABRERA: Malice? No. But then, I hardly ever see him before showtime. I'm sure he'll turn up.


We fade out on Quenton's concerned face.


COMMERCIAL

We come back from commercial to see Papa Tete at his announce table, but Floyd is nowhere to be seen.

TETE: Get off the floor, Floyd. We've got a job to do.

Floyd appears, holding a pillow up to his head.

FLOYD: Dammit, Papa, this match is going to be boring! No, not boring, bo-ring! 'Sides, I need to catch up on my beauty sleep.

TETE: No amount of beauty sleep will help you, Floyd. ::grabs Floyd's ear and pulls him to his feet:: Now get in your seat!

FLOYD: Ow ow ow! Stop that! I'm fragile!

The two are interrupted when Pink Floyd's infamous "Run Like Hell" comes over the loudspeakers. Scott Raye comes out, much more somber and deliberate than ever. He runs his hand once over his now-bald head and then steps down to the ring. He stands in one corner, his head bowed and his eyes closed.

TETE: This is a grudge match that has been brewing for weeks! Scott Raye betrayed the Lineman to join the Servants of Shiva!

FLOYD: Best business decision he ever made.

TETE: "Business decision"?

FLOYD: Sure... before, he was unmarketable... but now, he appeals to all the little skinheads everywhere!

The music drops, and his replaced by "Iron Man". The Lineman marches out from under the Abbottron, followed by Coach. The Lineman has a football in hand, but he's so incensed by the sight of Raye that he forgets to throw it into the audience. Indeed, as he heads down the ramp, his grip gets so tight that the football pops. He steps up onto the apron and slips between the ropes.

TETE: It looks like the Lineman is about to spontaneously combust! I've never seen a man so angry before!

FLOYD: Maybe the Lineman should start taking Anger Management courses, like Jimmy Steele!

The bell rings. The Lineman and Scott Raye glare at each other for a few minutes. Finally, the Lineman takes a few steps forward, and Scott Raye does the same. They meet in the center of the ring, and Scott begins talking, apparently trying to calm the Lineman down. It fails. The Lineman's first right hook catches Raye upside the head, and the smaller man goes down. The Lineman doesn't let up in the attack, and keeps following up with numerous poundings across Raye's back and shoulders. Raye gets hung up on the ropes, and the Lineman throws his arms around Raye's head and lifts him up in a powerful suplex. Raye's body slams into the mat...

TETE: This match starting off hot and heavy!

FLOYD: Just the way I like my sex!

TETE: Floyd, don't get ridiculous. You don't get any sex.

The Lineman hauls Raye up and literally throws him towards the corner. The much smaller Scott Raye slams into the turnbuckle, and the Lineman uses the opportunity to rush forward and plant his shoulder into Raye's gut. Raye flops to his feet, and the Lineman begins delivering kicks against Raye's gut and chest.

After a few moments, Raye slumps to the ring, and somehow retains enough clarity of mind to roll out of the ring. The Lineman follows, catching Raye as he leaned against the barricade to compose himself. The Lineman doesn't let up... he grabs Raye's arm to throw him towards the steel steps, but Raye reverses the move. The Lineman crashes into the steps and flips over, his almost-300 lbs. body sailing into the announce table.

TETE: Whoa, watch it! Don't get us in this fight!

FLOYD: Dammit, you made me spill my Red Bull! Now I'll never have wings!

Raye climbs back in the ring, trying to escape his bigger opponent. He leans against the far turnbuckle, breathing hard and trying to regain his clarity. It takes several moments for the Lineman to climb back to his feet and crawl back into the ring. Raye sees him coming and quickly jumps up onto the turnbuckle. He leaps off just as the Lineman begins chargin, and Raye catches his opponent in a powerful drop-kick to the head. The Lineman staggers backwards, and Raye bounces off the rope and rushes towards him. The Lineman takes several steps forward and swings his arm, but Raye ducks underneath the punch and bounces off the opposite rope...

TETE: We've got a game of ping-pong going here!

FLOYD: It's making me dizzy...

Raye rushes back towards the Lineman, but the Lineman whirls around... and grabs Raye's head in both his hands and hauls him off his feet! With his intense strength, the Lineman whips Raye up, around, and back down, hitting the ring as if Raye were a flail!

TETE: My God! That kind of move could kill somebody!

The Lineman goes for a cover, and the ref counts... 1... 2... Raye barely manages to kick out just before 3!

FLOYD: Hey, they bald lil' bastard is still alive and kicking! Wouldja look at that?

The Lineman gets to his feet, staring in disbelief that Raye was able to break the pin. Raye grabs ahold of the ropes and gets back up to his feet. With a mighty roar, the Lineman rushes forward and wraps his arms around Raye's waist, intending to suplex him over his shoulder, but Raye hooks his arms around the ropes to counter the move. Raye then brings his knee up into the Lineman's chest, then snares the Lineman in a headlock... and, somehow (a burst of adrenaline, perhaps), Raye manages to haul the much larger Lineman into a suplex of his own, over the ropes and down to the floor outside!

FLOYD: Damn, that boy's been eating his Wheaties!

TETE: Holy hell, this match is almost as vicious as the hardcore match earlier!

Raye falls to his knees, fatigued from the physical exertion. The Lineman struggles back to his feet, but he doesn't jump back into the ring. Instead, he reaches under the ring and rummages around for a few moment, then comes back up with a 2X4 in hand. He jumps back into the ring, just as Raye slowly straightens up. Before the referee can interdict, the Lineman swings the 2X4 and catches Raye upside the head in a blow so powerful the board shatters! Slivers of wood fly about the ring, and the other piece of board flops to the mat. Raye flips over sideways and flops lifelessly to the mat. The ref immediately calls for the bell.

TETE: Sweet Judas, this is insane! The ref just called a DQ on the Lineman! Scott Raye might not be alive!!

FLOYD: Of course he's alive, Papa! He's still breathing!

TETE: But we don't know for how long! That kind of blow could kill a man!

The Lineman just throws his now-broken weapon to the mat and climbs out of the ring, just as a slight trickle of blood begins to leak out from a large cut across the back of Raye's head.

TETE: This is bad... Raye's not only busted wide open, but he's bleeding all over the ring! This is a vicious injury for Scott Raye!

FLOYD: He deserved it, Papa, he shouldn't have betrayed the Lineman in the first place!

TETE: That's an idiotic viewpoint, Floyd... look, we've got medical help coming! Thank God, Raye needs a doctor!

We cut to a commercial as we see the EMT's running down the ramp...

COMMERCIAL

JAMES SHARP & GREG TIBBS VS. THE GENTLEMEN VS. THE BROTHERS HAND NOT AVAILABLE - The Management

COMMERCIAL

We come back from commercial, just in time to see the lights of the arena dim and hear the trumpets blare. "Pink Elephants On Parade" comes up, drawing an enthusiastic pop from the crowd. From under the Abbottron appears Jo Kirin, looking as calm and composed as ever. She's dressed in her usual wrestling attire... a maroon and black jumpsuit, with a wide collar and thick gloves and boots. She glances about the audience, and with a toss of her very long, very tick hair, she heads down the ramp. She circles the ring and, with a shove to Floyd, takes a seat at the announcer's table.

FLOYD: Hey, wait a minute...!

TETE: We're being joined ringside by the Court Jester's girlfriend, Jo Kirin.

Jo grabs a spare headset and slips it on.

JO: Thank you for the warm welcome, Floyd.

FLOYD: I didn't give you a warm welcome, you...!

Jo begins tracing her finger down Floyd's face.

JO: Aw, c'mon, be nice.

FLOYD: Get your fingers off me, you... you... you YOU!

JO: And thank you, Papa... although I should point out that I am not Hickory's "girlfriend".

TETE: My mistake.

Just then, Rage Against the Machine's "Testify" comes up over the sound system. Jimmy Steele appears, accompanied by Misty. They embrace and kiss at the top of the ramp, then Misty heads down to the ring with a brisk jog (prompting a groan from Floyd). Jimmy leaves back under the Abbottron.

TETE: Well, Miss Kirin, why don't you introduce this match?

JO: Thank you, Papa. All right, they've slated a four-way match for the women's title tonight. The participants are Misty (obviously), Ms. Majors, Spite, and Kinky Magenta.

POD's "Rock The Party" hits, and Kinky Magenta appears, sans Dino. She pauses on the stage for a few moments, grinning at the audience with a rather... aroused look in her eyes. She struts down to the ring.

The music is drowned out by a white flash of pyro at the top of the ramp, and Bjork's "Army Of Me" comes up. Ms. Majors walks out, wearing her camo pants and white shirt and dogtags. Her heavy combat boots stomp down the ramp as she approaches the ring. She yanks her reflective sunglasses off her face and tosses them into the audience just before she rolls into the ring.

TETE: All right, we've got three of the four wrestlers ready.

FLOYD: Papa, do you think I have time to take a quick break? I... uh... have to go to the bathroom.

TETE: No, Floyd, stay there.

JO: 'Sides, you wouldn't want to miss the best part of the night, would you?

FLOYD (mumbling): Right...

The three contestants in the ring wait a few moments for the fourth participant, Spite, to appear, but after more than a minute she still hadn't appear.

TETE: Where the heck is Spite?!?

FLOYD: Maybe she's going door-to-door with C-Cube passing out tracts!

JO: Or maybe she's smarter than most people think.

Finally, the ref calls for the bell, starting the match. Ms. Majors immediately rushes forward and clotheslines Kinky Magenta, then turns around and swings her fist into Misty's stomach. Misty doubles over, and Majors wraps her arms around Misty's head and suplexes her. Kinky starts climbing back to her feet, but Majors leaps up and brings her elbow down across the back of Kinky's neck. Kinky flops face-down on the mat.

FLOYD: Be careful! Kinky's fragile!

JO: She is... maybe she shouldn't be in this match?

TETE: Are you, perhaps, upset at being left out, Miss Kirin?

JO: Not at all. It's a little amusing, actually.

Majors takes a few steps back and looks down on her opponents, obviously annoyed that they went down so easily. She pulls Misty on top of Kinky, then climbs up on the turnbuckle...

TETE: Ms. Majors is dominating this match!

JO: Well, just wait... something's bound to turn up.

Majors throws her arms out and leaps off, flipping downward into a Swanton bomb. Kinky and Misty writhe some more, and Majors jumps back up and waits for one of them to get up and fight.

TETE: Nothing much happening so far...

FLOYD: Maybe this should have been a bra & panties match.

JO: Perhaps... or maybe you should be a little patient.

After a few moments, Ms. Majors rushes forward, about to put her two opponents through another move, but Misty manages to thrash her leg up, catching Majors in the gut. Majors doubles over, and Misty throws her other leg into the air and smacks Majors in the face. Ms. Majors staggers back, holding her nose, and Misty jumps to her feet. She reaches down and pulls up Kinky Magenta, and then hurls Kinky at Ms. Majors. The two of them crash into the ropes and flip over, but Majors manages to snag her arms around the top ropes and jumps back into the ring.

FLOYD: Hey, Kinky was the best-looking of the bunch! Don't be mean to her!

TETE: It seems you were right, Miss Kirin, about being patient! Misty's gotten her second wind!

JO: Well, she never really had "wind" to begin with, so it's more like her first.

Misty and Majors face off for a few moments. Just then, however, the lights dim until we can barely see what's happening in the ring.

TETE: What the...?

JO: Oh, so that's how she's entering the ring...

FLOYD: Who? What?!? I can't see the babes!!

Through the dimness, we are barely able to make out a figure drop down from the arena rafters, lowered by ropes, right on top of Ms. Majors. The lights come up just as we see, of course, Spite. She smashes her legs into Majors' head just before she lands in the ring. She quickly removes her harness, and the ropes raise back up to the rafters.

FLOYD: Her whole damn family is a bunch of backhanded sneaks!!

TETE: Or they know a good tactic when they see it... ingenius!

JO: Indeed.

Spite keeps her gaze on Majors for a few moments as Majors slowly climbs back to her feet. Spite then leaps back and bounces off the ropes, and uses her momentum to leap forward, grabbing Majors' head, and delivering a Bulldog. As she comes down, she sweeps her leg out and kicks Misty in the gut. Misty doubles over, but manages to wrap her arms around Spite's leg. Misty straightens back up, then drops her elbow down along the inside of Spite's thigh. Spite writhes in pain from her leg being jarred in its' socket.

TETE: Things are picking up quite well!

FLOYD: But where's Kinky?!?

Just as Floyd asked, Kinky appears on the opposite side of the ring walking along the outside, wary of trying to get caught up in the events in the ring again. Ms. Majors rolls out, seeking to regain her composure (and to get away from Spite), but she catches sight of Kinky. With a slight snarl, Majors rushes towards Kinky. Kinky yelps and runs away. Majors chases Kinky around the ring...

FLOYD: Oh my... look at that... bouncing... bouncing!

TETE: Pull yourself together, Floyd!

JO: 'Scuse me a moment.

Jo reaches down and grabs a spare cable lying beside the announcer's table. Kinky runs by, and Jo pulls the cable taut, making it raise off the ground several inches. Majors runs by right after Kinky, but her boot catches on the cable, and she pitches forward and smashes into the ground!

TETE: Hey, wait a minute! That's not fair!

JO: I know that. You know that. Even Floyd knows that... maybe. But does the referee know that?

Meanwhile, back in the ring... Spite and Misty have been trading blows back and forth, and it takes several seconds for Spite to begin backing Misty into the corner. Spite then throws her arms around Misty, and very rapidly hauls Misty into the air and slams her back down in a Belly-to-Belly suplex. Spite stays there for a cover, but Misty kicks out even before the ref can begin counting. Spite then grabs Misty's hair and pulls her up to her feet.

Spite tries to throw Misty towards the ropes, but Misty manages to reverse the throw. Spite bounces into the ropes, but hooks her arms around the top rope. However, Misty immediately rushes forward and drop-kicks Spite in the upper chest. Spite recoils back, then bends forward from the impact. Misty quickly gets back to her feet, and then DDT's Spite! Misty goes for the cover... 1... 2... 3!

TETE: Misty wins the USXWF Women's Title! She's the first Women's Champion!

FLOYD: Wait a damn minute! Kinky Magenta was supposed to win!

TETE: Floyd, she can't wrestle!

FLOYD: So?!? She can wear a shirt with the best of them!!

JO: A shirt? Is that what they call handkerchiefs these days?

The referee holds Misty's arm up in victory and hands Misty the title belt. Misty grins and climbs out of the ring, and halfway up the ramp she's met by Jimmy Steele. They embrace, and exchange a few words as they disappear under the Abbottron.

JO: Now, isn't that sweet?

FLOYD: Yeah, it makes me retch!

COMMERCIAL

FLOYD: You know, Papa, I’m actually wondering if that LongArm punk has anything going on upstairs.

PAPA: Whaddya mean, Floyd?

FLOYD: You know the way he’s always flying straight, and now he’s hanging out with those Standish and Ayudaren characters. If ya ask me, that’s a little too sofisticado.

PAPA: You’ll get a chance to ask Avron himself face to face coming up in a sec. His match starts… now!

Just as Papa Tete stops talking, the eerie Japanese flute music plays softly over the speakers, before rising louder and louder. Avron appears at the top of the ramp, European title belt around his waist, and bows. He then calmly walks down the ramp, hands the belt to the referee, and awaits his opponent.

"At the Heart of It All" by Nine Inch Nails (I apologize if that’s not the right NIN song) hits the speakers and Angst comes out from behind the curtains, carrying another cup of coffee. When he nears the ramp, he throws it at Avron, who calmly sidesteps out of the way as the coffee flies from one side of the ring to the other.

FLOYD: Ow! Dammit, that coffee’s hot! And these are new pants!

We can hear Papa laughing in background. The bell rings, and both wrestlers circle each other. Suddenly, Avron jumps on the second rope, springs back, and nails a dropkick to Angst’s chest. Angst tumbles back, but then lunges forward and manages to catch Avron with a hurricanrana. Avron almost immediately springs up and begins to circle Angst. Angst looks apathetic towards Avron, while Avron shifts his arms and legs from one martial arts defensive stance to another. Avron manages to catch Angst off-guard with a leg-sweep, and quickly hooks his legs under his arms for a Boston Crab. Avron applies all the pressure he can, but Angst doesn’t so much as flinch with pain.

TETE: Angst is showing maximum resistance even to Avron’s superior submission skills! Avron is going to need to find a new way to win this match.

FLOYD: ::Yawn:: Just wake me up when it’s over, Papa.

Avron releases the hold, and Angst catches Avron with a hard right on the way up. Avron is stunned, and Angst immediately sees his opportunity. He leaps up to the third turnbuckle and leaps off. He does a full front flip, and also catches Avron’s head in between his ankles. He then arches backwards and finishes the tremendous hurricanrana. He quickly covers 1…2… Avron kicks out with authority. He looks a bit angered after that last attack, and charges quickly at Angst. Angst takes a defensive stance in anticipation, but Avron leaps high in the air towards Angst, head first. He clears Angst’s head, but wraps both arms around his neck. Avron then does a front flip on the way down, and Angst has no way to go but down, getting caught with a monstrous front-flip neckbreaker.

TETE: Amazing! I’ve never seen Avron use a move like that! This is incredible! Both these competitors seem determined to put their rivalry to an end this very night!

FLOYD: ::waking up:: Huh? What the hell? What’d I miss?

While his opponent is still on the ground, Avron gets him in the Samurai Stretch. This time, Angst recoils with pain and grabs for the ropes. He manages to grab hold, and the ref breaks up the hold. Avron stands right up, but Angst grabs Avron’s ankles and yanks, sending him to the floor. With his opponent’s feet still in his grasp, Angst leans back, thus planting Avron’s own feet against the mat, springing Avron upward. Avron gets sent for a ride… right over the top rope and out of the ring! He lands on his back with a hard thud. Angst once again leaps atop the turnbuckles and leaps off. He flips backwards while moving forward, and lands across Avron’s chest cavity.

TETE: There it is! The Suicide Splash! He used it at Blood & Gold and he used it again tonight!

Angst picks up Avron’s limp body and rolls him back onto the mat. He quickly goes for the cover 1…2… Avron barely manages to kick out, to the amazement and chagrin of Angst. From his prostrate position, Avron lifts both legs into the air, and then pushes his head off the mat with his arms, making his body a total vertical line in the middle of the ring. Angst, growing annoyed with Avron’s showmanship, rushes at him, but Avron is quick to stand himself right-side up and shoves his knee hard into Angst’s stomach. While his opponent is stunned, Avron puts Angst in a Northern Lights suplex pin, and the ref counts 1…2…3! Avron, with his quick thinking and lightning-fast surprise attacks, retains his European title once again.

TETE: Incredible! This definitely saw the limits being broken for both these fierce competitors!

FLOYD: Whatever, but I’m suing that knucklehead Angst for ruining my damn pants with coffee! Damn him!

COMMERCIAL

‘Superbeast" hits as the audience pops and the lights go out. The Gatekeeper walks out, lifting up his arms before continuing his march down the ramp. The Harbinger strides out purposefully after him, the flames surging up out of the top of the ramp. They make their way down to the ring, strobes flashing and another set of flames bursting from the bottom of the ramp. The Gatekeeper pauses outside the ring, looking back up the ramp, as the Harbinger raises his arms and bows his head, then steps to his corner and watches the ramp himself.

The lights come back up as "Superbeast" cuts out, then almost immediately, the lights dim, casting an orange glow over the arena, something like candles. Metallica's "The Thing That Should Not Be" comes out of the speakers, as Tarot walks out onto the stage shuffling a deck of Tarot cards. He walks to the ring, draws a single card as he shoves the rest under the ring, stares at it, then tosses it aside as he climbs under the ropes, slowly cracking his neck.

FLOYD: What's that card there, Papa?

TETE: Hmm...Death. Boy, how original.

Tarot flexes his arms slightly, turning to square off against the Harbinger. The bell rings, announcing the opening of the match. The Harbinger begins to walk forward, and Tarot is suddenly upon him, grappling with him.

TETE: Whoa...did you see him move? Tarot locking up with Harbinger...

They grapple for a moment, Tarot seeming to attempt some sort of submission hold, but the Harbinger loses his surprised expression rather quickly, and tosses Tarot off him.

TETE: And Harbinger breaks out.

He decks the smaller man across the face three times, then once in the gut, and begins to get him into position for a piledriver, when Tarot does a leg sweep, knocking the Harbinger down. Tarot gets up, and twists his body around to land an elbow drop on Harbinger's chest. He backs up, attempting to roll the giant around, when the Harbinger's arm shoots out and low blows Tarot, knocking him to his knees. The Harbinger gets up quite quickly, and picks up the downed Tarot, performing a rather wicked face-first piledriver, then shifting slightly to get the pin. The ref counts 1, 2...Tarot throws an arm up and rolls out from under the Harbinger, rising quickly but groggily to his feet.

Tarot runs back and bounces against the ropes, going for a clothesline, but the Harbinger stops him short and does a short arm clothesline, knocking Tarot back against the ropes once more. Tarot comes forward, punching Harbinger in the stomach and chest, but it barely backs the man up two steps before Harbinger bashes his fist into the side of Tarot's head, stopping the onslaught. Tarot stumbles back, a little stunned, then shakes his head, seeming to regain clairty. He looks like he's thinking for a moment, and he ducks a chokeslam attempt by the Harbinger, running past him into the ropes to launch a flying kick into the Harbinger's shoulder, sprawling both men to the floor.


Tarot gets up, shakes his head again, and does a legdrop onto the recovering Harbinger. Tarot seems to be panicked–he looks around for a moment, as if trying to find something.

TETE: Tarot seems desperate to keep the Harbinger down–what's he doing?

FLOYD: Maybe the cards told him what a loser he is, and he's trying to escape his destiny by instead acting like a retard?

After about two seconds, Tarot seems to know what's going on, and he runs to the opposite end of the ring, letting the Harbinger get up. Harbinger does so, walking purposefully across the ring, adjusting a glove as he does so. Tarot suddenly surges forward, raining punches down on Harbinger' chin and chest. Harbinger begins stumbling backward, putting up his arms to block, and Tarot throws a punch to his unprotected midsection, then bulldogs the Harbinger hard into the mat.

TETE: Vicious bulldog from Tarot–looks like his plan worked.

Tarot does not let up, doing a suicide head butt and a forearm smash on the Harbinger, then steps onto one of Harbinger's hands, causing the giant to grimace slightly, and, using his arms, locks the Harbinger into a variant of a figure-four leglock.

TETE: Tarot putting the Harbinger in the Hanged Man!

Tarot stretches himself slightly, and the Harbinger's head arches up with pain. The ref comes into the ring to watch for the tapout, but just as he comes over, Harbinger yanks his hand out from under Tarot's foot, causing the man to let go of the Hanged Man to regain his balance. The Harbinger is up like a shot, looking coldly at Tarot as he delivers a flurry of rights, then a couple shots to the gut. Tarot stumbles away, looking rather stunned and worried, and Harbinger's left arm shoots out, grabbing Tarot's throat and putting him on the mat with a chokeslam.

The Harbinger steps back, looking at the Gatekeeper for a cue, letting Tarot get up. Tarot shakily walks toward Harbinger, but before he can lock up, Harbinger grabs his arm and whips him into the ropes, then clotheslines him on his way back toward the middle. Not letting the smaller man get away, Harbinger siezes Tarot's shoulders and a drags him up in a fireman's carry, nailing him with a brainbuster DDT.

Tarot gets up, but not with any skill or balance; halfway up, he collapses again, and as he gets up a second time, he is noticeably weaving. He looks at Harbinger, and his eyes fill with fear as the larger man grins and bashes him in the back of head. As he buckles, Harbinger grabs the edge of Tarot's tights and twists him around, nailing him with a Tombstone piledriver. Tarot sprawls onto the mat, his fear now turned to impotent anger. He wraps his arms feebly around Harbinger's legs–the Harbinger laughs yet again, and hoists him up for a suplex. This time, Tarot doesn't seem to be getting back up.

TETE: Harbinger showing no mercy to Tarot.

FLOYD: Or intellect. Or speaking ability.

TETE: You know, Floyd, one of these days Harbinger is going to shut you up.

FLOYD: He'd have to remember who I am to do that.

The Harbinger picks up Tarot, lugging him over to the turnbuckle. As he begins his climb, the crowd pops as they recognize what he's doing.

TETE: Harbinger setting Tarot up for the Mark of Cain–looks like this match really was fated from the start.

FLOYD: Well, when you have a pansy like Tarot going up against a living tank–I mean, it isn't like either of them is really capable of strategy...

The Harbinger hauls Tarot up, and lands the Mark of Cain, plowing Tarot against the mat and going for the cover. The ref counts–1, 2, 3. "Superbeast" hits as Harbinger gets back up, staring for a long moment at the near-unconscious body of Tarot, and begins his walk up the ramp. Tarot stumbles to his feet, defeated, and stares at the Harbinger.

As Harbinger is halfway up the ramp, Tarot suddenly rushes up behind him, smashing a chair into the back of his head. Harbinger stumbles a few feet, and looks back, seething with rage, mouthing something undiscernable. Tarot looks at him, showing no emotion. Harbinger takes a step forward, but the Gatekeeper puts his hand on his charge's shoulder, seeming to tell him to calm down. He grits his teeth, and points at Tarot as he walks up the ramp. Tarot stands there, staring, not responding or taking any action.

TETE: What the hell is Tarot thinking?!

FLOYD: Boy, Death is a more accurate card by the minute...

TETE: That may be, but it looks like we've got some video from the back...

We cut to the back, where R.F. Quenton catches up with Angst in the dressing room.


QUENTON: Angst, listen, has Malice gotten here yet?

ANGST: Who cares? Y'know what, I've kind of got other things on my mind at the moment. Actually, give me that mic.


Angst grabs the mic from Quenton.


ANGST: Hey, Avron, you think you're such hot stuff ... well, I'll tell you something, no one makes a fool out of Angst! This isn't over, pal, not by a longshot! You'll be sorry you underestimated me! I'll see you at Trauma, buddy ... count on it.


Quenton takes the mic back.


QUENTON: So you don't know if he'll be here?

ANGST: Who?!

QUENTON: Your brother.

ANGST: Who gives a damn?!

QUENTON: Right. Uhm ... We'll be back after this, folks.


COMMERCIAL


Fate's music hits and he comes down, Reverend Spank just behind him. For once, Spank isn't on the mic. He merely escorts Fate to the ring.


TETE: Fate seems to be happy to be back with his mentor.

FLOYD: Whatever happened to this guy's feud with the Harbinger?

TETE: It ended.

FLOYD: Why?

TETE: Well, that's a good question, Floyd. I have no doubt that we'll find out eventually.


"You Give Love a Bad Name" hits and Trent Valentine comes down the ramp, his belt around his waist. He deposits the belt and his hat at the announcer's table, then gives a rose to a female audience member, who faints with joy.


TETE: Kind of like a member of 'N Sync, isn't he?

FLOYD: Please. I'm still trying to deal with the emotional scars hearing La Parka's music gave me every week. Thank God that's over.


The bell rings as Valentine and Fate tie up. Valentine whips Fate into the ropes, and Fate comes back with a flying elbow that levels Valentine like a brick wall. He pulls Valentine to his feet and wraps his enormous hand around Valentine's throat, then gives him an absolutely massive chokeslam to the mat! The pin! 1...2...3!


TETE: Unbelievable! It all happened so fast ... I think that Fate is the new IC champion!

FLOYD: How is - that impressed even me, Papa!


Fate walks over to the announcer's table and picks the belt up, throws it over his shoulder, and exits with Reverend Spank as Trent Valentine, more than a little shocked himself, gets to his feet and stares after them, grasping the ropes for support. Tears suddenly well in his eyes and he runs out through the crowd.


TETE: How humiliating! Poor Trent!

FLOYD: Poor Trent my ass! He lost, Papa! It happens! He'll bounce back!

TETE: Yeah, but you know how sensitive he is!


We cut to the back, where R.F. Quenton is standing in front of the Court Jester's locker room. Quenton knocks on the door... no answer. He knocks again... no answer. He raises his hand to knock one last time, but as he does, the door swings open and the Jester's hand appears, and raps a few times on Quenton's forehead.

JESTER: Come in, come in, my quotably qualified Quenton!

Quenton takes a deep breath, and he's heard to mumble "I hate this job..." before he steps into the room.

We see the Jester plop down in a beanbag chair in the corner. Jo Kirin is there, munching on a peach from a fruit basket in another corner. Quenton is invited to take a seat in the center of the room.

JESTER: How can I, the Ever-Effervescent Court Jester, help the highly-esteemed and integrity-filled interviewer of the USXWF?

Quenton sits down in the chair.

QUENTON: Well, Mr. Jester, we've been waiting all night to find out some word about Malice...

JESTER: Ah! Malice! What an amazingly charming fellow he is! ::to Jo Kirin:: Wouldn't you say, my dear?

JO (between mouthfuls of fruit): Yes. Charming. Quite.

QUENTON: Uh-huh. Whatever. Well, can you tell us... uh... where he is?

JESTER: Oh, certainly! Definitely! I know precisely where he is!

QUENTON (slightly annoyed): Where?!?

JESTER (leaning forward): Not here.

Quenton sighs loudly.

QUENTON: Look, we just need to know what's going on with him. Isn't there anything you can tell us?

JESTER: Well, I believe what I've told you constitutes a lot... but I should make my oh-so-marvelous self clear on one thing... as he and I left the arena after Blood & Gold, he stressed over and over that he was going to finally extract revenge.

QUENTON (after a pause): On who?

JESTER: Who else, my definitely-dense dictationer... the woefully witty and wildly wily Chris the Crazy Crishna, C-Cube!

QUENTON (another pause): And what about Spite?

JESTER: What about Spite?

Jo Kirin tosses her now-devoured peach pit across the room.

JO: Don't worry about her. We've got plans for her. ::she chuckles softly::

The Jester leaps to his feet and bounds across the room. He wraps his arm around Quenton's shoulder and presses his cheek into Quenton's cheek.

JESTER: Howzabout this, Quenton... do you wanna help us in our pantheistically plotting plans?

QUENTON: What? No! Wait...!

The Jester jumps up and glances right at the camera.

JESTER: You heard that, C-Cube, R.F. Quenton is helping us now... shake in your sandals, you silly little strumpet! Quiver and quake underneath the quelling quaffing of Quenton!

QUENTON: No! No! I have nothing to do with it! Don't believe him!

JESTER: Ah, stop this false modesty, Quenton, it sickens me! The fact of the matter is that YOU masterminded the whole thing!

Quenton jumps out of his chair and rushes out the room, screaming "No, it wasn't me!" at the top of his lungs. The Jester and Jo Kirin bust out laughing...