[Fade up to a large red logo that reads "SNN"]

Voice Over: You're watching the Styx News Network.

[The logo fades and we are taken to what appears to be a press conference. It's not your typical press conference though. Oh no. Instead of being held inside, this one is in the splendor of nature. In the background is what appears to be a river and by the way everything seems to slowly bob up and down, it is safe to assume that this press conference is a on a boat. Judging by the look of it, it’s either a tugboat or trash barge. Majestic mountains are the backdrop and clear blue skies are overhead...]

Voice Over: Any moment now, we will be joined by the mayor of Styx, Wyoming Rex Dangle. We believe this press conference will cover the recent signing of the MBC to hold their pay per view event "SplatterNad" here in Styx.

[The sound of a motor is heard coming up the river. On the choppy waters a speed boat with a paint job that could only be described as a cartoonish looking shark with massive teeth approaches. The boat pulls up close and after tying down, several passengers board the larger ship. Most look like bodyguards but the one who they protect stands out quite a bit. The crowd stands and begins to applaud.]

Voice Over: Yes, Mayor Dangle has just boarded the "USS Mikey" and is shaking hands with all the dignitaries in attendance.

[Inexplicably, Mayor Dangle is dressed in an Air Force style pilot uniform. He holds his helmet under one arm as he shakes the hands of every one near. He's got a cocky smile that accentuates his scruffy beard and long blond hair. And again, for no reason at all, he wears a massive cod piece. Must be the fashion in Styx. Eventually, he approaches the podium and sets his helmet down. He leans forward and waits for the applause to die down. Once it does, he speaks slowly and deliberately in order to badly enunciate his words.]

MRD: Ladies and gentlemen... mission accomplished.

[The crowd erupts into a standing ovation as a large banner drops down, reading "MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!" The Mayor nods to several people in the crowd and waits for the applause to die down again. He can't help but chuckle to himself. You dare say he looks almost chimp like when he does it.]

MRD: As you all may know, we've been trying for several years to land the MBC here in our fair city. And thanks to the efforts of City Councilman Donner, we've done just that.

[The crowd again stands to applaud. This time the Mayor points to a familiar sharp dressed man in glasses. Mr. Donner or rather, Councilman Donner stands and bows to acknowledge the applause.]

MRD: I'm ecstatic to announce that in our negotiations with the MBC, we've met every objective I laid out when I first formulated my stupendous idea. We were victorian in our efforts.

[Again, the crowd stands and applauds. And yes, he said victorian.]

MRD: They misunderestimated me.

[Because they can't get enough, the crowd stands and claps.]

MRD: The MBC is ginormous with potentiality. So much so, that no other city, state or empire can handle its sheer awesomeness... much like Styx. This is the biggest thing to hit our city since a piece of frozen space poop from the NASA shuttle fell on Paco's Porn Hut.

[All the dignitaries hang their head in remembrance of that sad day.]

MRD: So this isn't just going to be a pay per view show. It will be a full on event... no... a festival. Styx will have a weeklong celebration of its heritage capped off by a three night... yes, I said that right, a three night wrestling extravaganza.

[Murmurs of excitement.]

MRD: The first night of SplatterNad will take place Friday July 10th and will be sponsored in part by the Styx Highland Retail Village out by the Styx Reservoir Dam. Get this, it's got an awesome nickname and everything. "SplatterNad 2009 Night One: Village of the Damned."

[Approval from everyone.]

MRD: Kickass I know. The second night will be Saturday July 11th and we've got the Styx High School Future Farmers of America to back this one. It'll be called "SplatterNad 2009 Night Two: Children of the Corn".

[People are getting more and more excited.]

MRD: And then it's the big one on July 12th. I know everybody here loves the University of Wyoming at Styx Rolling Thunderbears curling team and to help celebrate the opening of their new stadium, we're going to hold all the shows there. So night three is officially called "SplatterNad 2009 Night Three: Beyond Thunderdome".

[The crowd, many of whom are UTS Rolling Thunder alumni start to chant "THUN-DER! THUN-DER! THUN-DER!"]

MRD: Right on! Now it's time to enjoy some "Mission Accomplished" Lemonade! What do you say to that Lil’ Mayor?

[A thumping comes from behind the podium.]

MRD: Well all right, all right, all right!

[Mayor Dangle throws up some peace signs and makes a B-line for the refreshments. Dear God, what have we gotten ourselves into?

Fade to intro...

"Sabbath Bloody Sabbath" by Bruce Dickenson with Godspeed quickly begins to play as the opening credits kick into motion. We're treated to various images of the MBC's most recent spectacular 2X4 2008...]

#You've seen life through distorted eyes#
#You know you had to learn#
#The execution of your mind#
#You really had to turn#

[The first image we see is the flashback to the mid 80's with Slush wearing Addidas... little people dressed just like him... the appearance of "The Devil's Mother"... the spectacle of the 2X4 Tournament Third Round match... Kathryn Elyson and Andrea Kristian taking on Susan Davis and Tesla St. James... Mike Reznor and TENMA Akamu going toe to toe... the preliminary wrestlers swarming in...]

#The race is run the book is read#
#The end begins to show#

[The insanity of Lights Camera Action beating the tar out of referees who think they're wrestlers... The Chromosomes appearing and taking the fight to LCA... Hands punching through a wall to grab Slush by the throat... Max Benson and Ryu Osawa taking The Omen down and both covering for the pin... Erik Grimsson and Jan Delgado getting the final word in on Holly Hotbody and Brawn Stevenson...]

#The truth is out, the lies are old#
#But you don’t want to know#

[Stan Crawford locked into a physical showdown with Chromosome Y... Dalbello Rage using every trick in her book in order to keep Jerry Titus down... Kiora Donavon and Amber Rogers winning the Psycho Driver Tag Team titles from Leanna and Lolita Love... The Omen delivering prophecy to Slush...]

#Nobody will ever let you know#
#When you ask the reasons why#
#They just tell you that you're on your own#
#Fill your head all full of lies...#

[The return of Tinkle... The Return of R.U.N.T... The Problem Solvers getting the win over Fury in a brutal Falls Count Anywhere Match... Tom Landis, One-Winged Angel, Myra Benedict, and Tara Marshall all brawling into the crowd... Jerry Titus and Stan Crawford beating one another bloody... Jerry Titus holding the SBC Title victorious... The return of the Hand of Doom...]

#...YOU BASTARD!!!#

[The image lingers before it gives way to the guitar solo and logo...]

______ __ ___ __ __
/_ __/_ _____ ______/ /__ ___ __/ _ )/ /__ ___ ___/ /_ __
/ / / // / -_|_-< _ / _ `/ // / _ / / _ Y _ Y _ / // /
/_/ \_,_/\__/___|_,_/\_,_/\_, /____/_/\___|___|_,_/\_, /
/_ __/_ ____/___/___/ /__ ___ __ /___/
/ / / // / -_|_-< _ / _ `/ // /
/_/ \_,_/\__/___|_,_/\_,_/\_, /
/___/

D E S O L A T E , E X I L E D A N D
D E S P E R A T E T O U R

J u n e 1 6 t h , 2 0 0 9

S c o t t r a d e C e n t e r

S t . L o u i s , M i s s o u r i


[The logo fades and we are taken right inside the Scottrade Center where a rabid crowd waits for the action to begin. Signs are a plenty but our cameras spend more time looking for hot women. We'll have to get Standards and Practices on them. And when S&P can't get its act together, we'll call in Human Resources. You don't want to [MEEP] with Regina in Human Resources. She will OWN you.]

Skullhead: Welcome everyone to the latest edition of Tuesday Bloody Tuesday!

[Our cameras finally get off the whole girl hunting thing and switch to ringside. That may do more with the production team in the truck. Regina works nearby. That could be why...]

Skullhead: And you heard that right. SplatterNad will be a three night spectacular.

[In the center is the maker of mirth, Pinhead.]

Pinhead: Is it fair to say that Styx is going overboard?

Skullhead: That's definitely within the realm of possibility.

Pinhead: Don't get me wrong. More power to them if they want to make a "festival" out of it. But I mean come on. This is wrestling, not Woodstock.

[And far to the left is the goofy bastard named Slush.]

Slush: If people want to get naked and dance around in the mud, then more power to them.

Pinhead: The show will be inside a dome.

Slush: Dome? I'm speaking in general.

Pinhead: Of course you are.

[And yes, there is the hamster. Can't forget him.]

Tinkle: MEEP!

[Though sometimes we'd like to.]

Tinkle: MEEP!

Skullhead: Ladies and gentlemen, tonight's show is positively filled to the brim with bastardly goodness for you. Our wrestlers stand ready to entertain with words and actions.

Slush: Will Pinhead balance a ball on his nose?

Pinhead: Why the hell would I?

Slush: I don't know... maybe you'd bring some talent to the table for once.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Skullhead: In singles action Y of the Chromosomes will face off against Bruce Saotome of Lights Camera Action.

Pinhead: And we'll see just how involved the referees get on this one. Could set a tone for the whole show.

Skullhead: Continuing her gauntlet is Jan Delgado. Tonight she faces some stiffer competition in Kiora Donavon. Adding to that is Holly Hotbody who will be tonight's special guest referee.

Pinhead: Yet another questionable situation with the in ring official.

Slush: There's nothing questionable about Holly.

Pinhead: Except the percentage of silicon she has in her body.

Slush: Hey now. All natural.

Pinhead: Saline then.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Skullhead: In her first defense of her newly won UWF/MBC Joint Light Heavyweight Championship, "Every Man's Fantasy" Brianna Landis faces The Omen.

Slush: I totally take issue with this match. First, Brianna Landis is NOT my fantasy. How dare... HOW DARE SHE make the claim that she is every man's fantasy!

Pinhead: But are you really a man?

Slush: I am a man until medical science proves otherwise.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: That's right. Medical science once thought you were a gerbil, not a hamster. If they're wrong about you, then they could be wrong about me.... wait... that's not a good thing.

Skullhead: And in the main event, the sixth match of the Death Cycle goes down. Jerry Titus defends the SBC Title against Stan Crawford in... what the hell is it called again?

Pinhead: Seven Tables Of Overly Gruesome Effects.

Skullhead: Right... STOOGE.

Slush: Better than "Seven Tables Of Old Luchas."

Pinhead: Uh... yeah.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Skullhead: Titus could win the Death Cycle with a win tonight. But as beaten as Crawford and Titus are, it's really anyone's match.

Pinhead: I'm curious as to what these seven tables will be.

Slush: Probably cheap wood. Duh.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Skullhead: Let's move on before you two get into a debate about the various traits of table wood.

[Cut backstage, where we find one of the MBC referees, Dean Ferrante, emerging from the locker room area. One would surmise the referees have their own locker room that they share. Hey, they at least need a place to change.

But as Ferrante exits the room, he is confronted by the founding members of the Referees Union Taking Action Before Everyone Gets Ahead. Bartholomew Prevert and Lance Ewich (one is the president, the other is the legal advisor) are both dressed in suits and ties.]

BP: Mr. Ferrante... we are glad we caught up with you.

DF: Um... I do have a match to officiate.

[Ewich puts his hand on Ferrante's shoulder.]

LE: That you do... and it turns out you have to deal with one of those troublemakers.

DF: Well, considering what the Chromosomes have been...

BP: No, my good man, we refer to Bruce Saotome. You are no doubt aware of the problems he and his partner gave Les and myself not too along.

DF: Well, you guys need to understand...

LE: [patting Ferrante on the shoulder gently] It's all right, Mr. Ferrante... we aren't here to intimidate you. We just want to make sure you are able to do your job to the best of your ability... and to ensure that you aren't hindered by some wrestler who would try to do you wrong.

[He takes a card and slips into the pocket of Ferrante's shirt.]

BP: And all we ask is that, if you ever need any assistance to ensure you are able to do your duties properly, you just give us a call. We are only out for the best interests of yourself and the rest of the referees on the MBC payroll.

LE: Best of luck to you out there... and don't let Saotome push you around.

[Ferrante looks at Prevert for a moment, then Ewich, then sighs and walks off. The top members of RUTABEGA have concerned looks on their faces.]

BP: You think he'll be willing to become a member?

"Do not worry, it will come with time."

[A distorted voice, which can only mean one thing. The Chromosomes, X and Y, identities still not revealed, mics that distort their voices still in their hands, approach Prevert and Ewich.]

LE: Hey, it's not that we are impatient... we are just not sure the movement is gaining that much traction.

Y: Nothing happens overnight. Sure, the Hand of Doom suddenly appeared out of nowhere at 2x4, but don't think for a minute that Crimson didn't have the wheels being set in motion from the time he first returned.

X: Besides, we are confident that, after tonight's match, Mr. Ferrante will be a little more convinced of the need to become part of the union. As a matter of fact, I do believe Mr. Daniels is leaning toward membership after what happened last week.

BP: Yes, he did contact us... thinks maybe we could do something to allow him to assert himself more when things start getting out of hand.

Y: Do not worry about last week. We knew that, given the Problem Solvers' membership with the Hand of Doom that one of the members would be in the vicinity. The important part was that you two saw to it that the referee's authority was superior to all, including the Hand of Doom.

X: The time will come when we solve those problems... but tonight, the issue at hand is one half of Lights, Camera, Action. And my partner here will make sure that Saotome learns how foolhardy it was to demand a title shot just because he wants it.

Y: I would suspect Saotome is none too pleased X and myself got that shot last week. The way we see it, good things come to those who wait... and those who work for them. And to the two of you... as long as you keep working for the good of the union, good things will come.

LE: I do hope so... your support has been vital to our cause.

X: And our support will continue to be there, so long as it means we keep the rest of the MBC roster on their toes.

BP: You don't need us out there to back up Mr. Ferrante when he's got to deal with Saotome, do you?

Y: Leave Saotome to myself... and I trust that Ferrante will understand the importance of doing his job. People like Saotome have ways of making them understand that... even if it is what you would call the hard way.

[Fade out.]

______________________________________________________
/_ __/ __ )_ __/
/ / / __ |/ / CHROMOSOME Y versus
/ / / /_/ // / BRUCE "THE ONI" SAOTOME
/_/ /_____//_/
|____________________________________Writer: Kyle B. Lee


[Entrances for both men were short and concise. This was par for the course with Chromosome Y but not so much for Saotome. Seemingly, both members of Light Camera action had grown tired of being the targets of the Chromosomes and sought to finally rectify the situation. Saotome still eyed the ladies of course, but his focus was primarily on his opponent for the evening. And once in the ring, he even eyed referee Dean Ferrante with a bit of suspicion. And probably for good reason.]

Slush: Why did the referee cross the road?

Pinhead: Really? You're going to go this route?

Slush: Yes. Yes, I am.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Pinhead: That's beneath even you.

Slush: Just answer the damn question.

Pinhead: Fine. Why did the referee cross the road?

Slush: The chicken was in a falls count anywhere match.

Pinhead: ...

[There was some hesitation at first, mostly on the part of the referee. He didn't like being eyed by both Saotome and Y. But the match began regardless and as one would expect the opening salvos were all about trying to gain the advantage in the power game. While Saotome was easily the bigger man, Chromosome Y did much to match The Oni's power. Eventually, the match broke into a brawl as things became more heated. With neither man backing off, something would eventually have to give. But it was the referee who inserted himself to warn against closed fists. It was here where both sides earned their first break.]

Pinhead: Saotome is arguing pretty heavily with the referee about something.

Skullhead: What is Chromosome Y doing in the corner?

Pinhead: He's loosening up his mask... he can't be taking it off can he?

Skullhead: No... he's putting something in it!

[And by the time the referee had cut Saotome loose, Chromosome Y had his mask back on and tight. The two locked up mid ring and resumed picking maneuvers from their respective power games. Saotome came first with a flurry of slams followed by a number of suplexes from Y. Despite repeated pin attempts, neither man was gaining ground. When they started to brawl again, Y hit Saotome with a head butt. Bruce staggered back, shocked by the fierceness of the strike. Hard head still intact, he shook it off and resumed his attack. Again the two wrestles went at it and from nowhere, Y head butted Saotome. Bruce was clearly more dazed and seeing an opening for an attack, Y continued his relentless barrage of head butts that left Saotome prone to then be hit with Y's running powerslam. With the ref seemingly oblivious to the possibility of Y's having put something in his mask, Saotome came down hard to the mat. As Y covered and the Ferrante counted, the cameras picked up the tell tale sign of blood starting to trickle from Saotome's forehead. Three seconds later, it didn’t matter.]

RING ANNOUNCER: The winner of this match by pinfall... CHROMOSOME Y!!!

Skullhead: Whatever Y stuffed into his mask, it had to be pretty hard to cause that sort of bleeding.

Pinhead: Saotome is back to his feet and he is not happy with the referee.

Slush: RUN FERRANTE! RUN!

Pinhead: That's actually sound advice.

Skullhead: Saotome is not pleased and for good reason. I'd be suspicious too if I suddenly started bleeding from my forehead and the referee did nothing to check on it.

Slush: It's entirely possible you just need an exorcism.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: Hehe, you said a dirty word.

Pinhead: Can we move on before we find out what Tinkle said?

[Cut to the parking lot area as the camera does a slow pan.]

Voice: What in the hell do you mean you have no idea where Styx, Wyoming is?

[Enter a visibly irritated "Bastard Legend" One-Winged Angel on a cell phone. He wears an Amity t-shirt, black jeans, Nike basketball shoes and carries a black duffel bad. Oh the typical "What the [MEEP] is wrong with this douche bag?" look that's a stable of anyone dealing with on the phone customer service.]

1WA: Look, we're doing a friggin' pay-per-view from the place! There's has to be some damn airport and some friggin' hotel that you have on file for the place.

[Angel stops right out an arena entrance in irritation.]

1WA: What the [MEEP] do you know about me that would scream I want to be anywhere near Wyoming? I don't want to be near the whack-ass state but I happen to like money. So get on your [MEEP] already!

[1WA hangs up his phone and steps into the area. It takes him two steps to freeze and his expression go from irritated to hateful.]

1WA: This, [MEEP]hole....

[The shot pans out to show MBC Owner "Doomsayer" Kyle Lee standing before the Amity leader. It appears as if Lee has been waiting here for Angel.]

KL: It's my understanding that you have to fly to Canada first and then you can fly into Styx. The system is extremely backwards.

[Lee stands their waiting for a reaction, expecting a likely blow up.]

1WA: Yeah....I can imagine you sending me halfway across the world to make sure I don't make it. Why don't you stick to legally questionable firings and suspensions. You know, the crap you pull that keeps the MBC's lawyers --and mine for that matter -- so busy and paid. I'd love for you to have to shut this place down like you inevitably do every two years because half the revenue is going to Myra, whom fittingly would just burn it anyway.

[1WA puts his duffel bag to the ground and takes a step closer to the MBC owner.]

1WA: Now is there any particular reason you're in my face right now or is just your subconscious desire for me to throw you of a higher balcony this time?

KL: Trust me. I have no desire to hear you talk out of your ass. I hear enough of that as is.

[Lee crosses his arms and stares at Angel.]

KL: I'm here to tell you not to do anything stupid. Not that you'll listen but I know you well enough to realize you're probably planning something in retaliation for Fury getting suspended and Myra getting fired.

Let's face it, what they did was stupid and reckless. And if you intend to do something that puts what they did to shame, then I'm telling you right now, you'll be fired so fast your head will spin. I could care less that you hate me and you'd love to do something to spite me.

But this is going to be the only warning you get.

Sure, you make the MBC money. But so do a lot of other people. We'd get along fine without you.

[Angel's signature cocky smirk finally emerges from his glare.]

1WA: Don't tempt me. As worried as you are about being able to put on Snad, bear in mind how easily, I can destroy it for you. You know, trap Landis's ankle in a steel chair and break it. You fire me. Taylor's left holding the balls she thinks she has and you're screwed out of a main event.

[The Amity leader snaps his fingers.]

1WA: It's that easy.

But that's only if you push me. I will hurt you a lot more just by taking my title back. You week in and week out having to place my face at the end of that opening TBT montage. You having to deal with the Amity merchandise flying off the shelf. Your champion show in and show out making an absolute ass of you and the joke of authority you and Becks claim to have.

[1WA backs away and picks his bag back up.]

1WA: Besides, I have free range to beat you senseless in the UWF.

[Lee... is unaffected.]

KL: That's a great plan there Angel. Seemed to have worked out real well. Especially at the last UWF pay-per-view... oh... where I beat you.

[Lee flashes his own cocky smirk.]

KL: The MBC can and will survive without you Angel. Doesn't matter to me if you're in or out of the main event. At the very least it would be quieter. If you want to walk out, then turn right around and head out into the wilderness. If you're going to stay, then fine. But remember, there is no better way to tell the truth then by doing your damn job.

[Having enough, Lee walks away. Fade.]

Slush: DON'T LISTEN TO HIM SON!

Pinhead: No, he _should_ listen. I'm sure your son likes being employed.

Slush: He's a hard working man. He's got a job in the UWF as well. Makes his dad proud. Raisin' Hell in Canada! HOLLA!

Pinhead: Even still, it'd be smart of him not to rock the boat...

Slush: Which is already sinking!

Tinkle: MEEP!

Pinhead: No use in arguing.

Skullhead: You learn this now?

Slush: They call him "Pinhead" for many reasons. His learning abilities one of them.

Pinhead: Do I even want to know why they call you "Slush"?

Slush: ...No...

Pinhead: That's what I thought.

[If the MBC was broadcasted in smell-O-vision, it likely would have lost all of it's fans by now (if you don't know why, remember that ignorance is bliss). But if such a technology existed, and you just happened to stumble upon this present MBC programming, you'd be rewarded with the famously indefinable stench known as "hospital smell."

In the meantime, the depressing shade of the pasty green walls, covered with hastily scribbled charts between piles of bedpans, sterilized blankets, sanitation advisory posters, and racks of cheap, soiled plastic plates forgotten in a corner on their way to the hospital's dishwasher serve to evoke that famous smell of rubbing alcohol, floor wax, mouthwash, bleached linens, hand lotion, blood, sweat and formaldehyde.
Yes, that last sentence could have been longer.]

EE: What are we doing here?

[Ooh! The long haired blond Norwegian is wearing a stark white one piece dress, today, with a plunging neckline and golden buttons leading down to her long, strong legs. It kinda looks like a sexy nurse outfit.
Mmm... naughty nurses...]

WH: W-well, I don't want to see you blacklisted on this side of the p-... pond, honey.

[That'd be William Houlder, Eveline Eriksen's manager slash sugar daddy. He's a short, balding nervous wreck of a man.]

EE: Blacklisted? What for?

WH: So-some people... they, they... they kind of think that all those injuries theses girls suffer against you is bad for business, honey.

EE: Hiring girls that can't wrestle or protect themselves is bad for business.

WH: Still, honey, it's important to let them know it's just a coincidence. They.. n-never seem to like my sug - my sug - gestion of adding thick padding everywhere.

EE: That's because it's a remarkably stupid idea.

WH: S-safe is not stupid, honey! Sometimes, it looks like wrestling is dangerous, and- and, ... and I get
worried for you, my love.

[She coldly looks down at him.]

EE: Yeah. I get worried for you too.

[Somehow, it doesn't have the same meaning when she says it...]

WH: Anyways, th-they'll all forget about that... [he fidgets] that unfortunate accident when we bring Ms. Ruiz
this cute teddy bear, get well card, and boo-boo... bouquet of flowers!

[Indeed, Houlder has a stuffed animal in one hand, a card in the other, and flowers in the last. No, wait. The teddy bear is holding the card. Yeah, that adds up better.]

EE: That's another remarkably stupid idea. It gives the impression her injury is my fault, somehow. That girl has already wasted too much of my time, I'm not about to sacrifice some training time for her benefit anytime soon. The referee gave her a chance to forfeit, so it's all her fault.

WH: Of-of-of course. But a little bit of goodwill can go a long way...

EE: Show me that bear.

[In a flash, Eriksen snatches the plush ursidae for a quick appraisal.]

EE: It's cheap, ugly, and... why does the card have a cartoon man dying of thirst in a desert?

WH: It-it-it says "Get well soon."

EE: ...

WH: I-I though it was funny.

EE: Fine. You can give her that crap if you want to, but I'm leaving.

WH: I think...

EE: I'm going shopping.

WH: I think... maybe... I suppose I can give her the flowers in your name...

EE: I said I'm going shopping, Daddy.

WH: Oh.

[The little man puts down the bouquet and rummages in his pockets, retrieving a rectangular plastic card, which he waves about in front of his gold digger. She makes a sexy pouty face while bending down to show some extra cleavage.]

EE: I love you, Big Bill.

[She doesn't sound like she means it at all, but she has not called him "Daddy" or "Wallet." Sounds like "Big Bill" is reserved for special occasions only. Immediately, the card changes hands. Houlder closes his eyes, puckers his lips and inches up on his tippy toes.]

WH: I love you my little vixen you...

[Still waiting for a kiss, he opens his eyes again. Yeah, Eveline Eriksen is long gone. The paunchy little man sighs, grabs the bouquet, and presses on the button that calls the elevator.]

Pinhead: So how is that crusade to vindicate Eveline Eriksen coming?

Slush: Slowly, but give it time. We're taking the grass roots approach.

Pinhead: Meaning nobody is interested.

Slush: I'm trying to get a hold of her husband but he's a hard guy to get a hold of.

Pinhead: Meaning you haven't put in any actual effort.

Slush: Hey! I made a posterboard!

Pinhead: Meaning you're going to write it off on your taxes.

Slush: I hate you.

Pinhead: Meaning my world is better.

("Problem Child" brings the crowd to their feet as "The Big Nasty Bastard" Mike Reznor makes his way down to the ring, taking in the crowd reaction. Stepping over the top rope, he gets a mic from ringside.)

Rez: Ya know, a few weeks back I decided to take in a Bastard Stampede card. They've got some damn good talent there. Some veterans, some new kids looking to make their way in this business and it does my heart good to see them getting the chance they deserve. But there's this one guy there that didn't seem to appreciate my presence. I'm talking about some big jacked up goof named Jonas Elm. Now normally I'd just shrug that kind of thing off. But the more I thought about it, the more pissed off I got.

(Leans over the top rope, looks right at the camera)

So I guess what I'm sayin' here is, Elm if you've got a problem with me, why don't you just come on down here and get you some big boy. Ya see, I ain't got a lot of time to deal with every two bit low rung jerkoff who ain't got the sense God gave a goose. I ain't a young Bastard anymore and there's one title I have never held and want to be before I hang up the wrestling boots and that's the MBC heavyweight strap currently held by Tom Landis. Tom, you and me go back a long way. We've ridden up and down more than a few roads together in our day. So consider this notice officially served. Once I deal with this Jonas Elm punk and you dust off Taylor and my old buddy The One Testicled Angel you had best have that belt shined up pretty because whoever holds it will be top of my list. I will be MBC champion, and that you can take to the bank.

["Problem Child" begins to play again as Reznor departs.]

Pinhead: Things have kind of built up to a slow simmer between Elm and Reznor.

Slush: Like good bar-b-que.

Skullhead: And word has it that Elm has officially requested he be instated as a wrestler. I'd say an in ring confrontation between Reznor and Elm is in our future.

Slush: You know, all these Bastard Stampede people... I'm kind of getting tired of them showing up, thinking their good enough to be here.

Pinhead: So you're saying that people should be where their talent dictates?

Slush: Exactly.

Pinhead: All right. Let me get my cell phone.

Slush: Why? Who are you calling?

Pinhead: I think you'd be perfect for that "Deadliest Catch" show.

Slush: Really? Because of my wonderful personality?

Pinhead: Nah. I just want to see you get tossed overboard.

[The camera fades in to one of the backstage locker rooms. Seated on a leather chair with his feet on an ottoman, Mister Haliburton is holding one of the MBC Tag Titles up to the light.]

Mr. H: I believe there is a slight dent in this one, made by one of those Fury gentlemen, no doubt. From the indentation I'd wager it was Rage. But no matter- I know places that can remove the dent and make the belt look good as new.

[He looks up at the person entering the room.]

Mr. H: Who should I have them bill at the MBC front offices, Ms. Carlisle-Skullhead?

[And sure enough, standing nearby with her arms crossed is Commissioner Becky Carlisle-Skullhead.]

BCS: We have our own people to take care of that sort of thing. The league learned long ago from Simon O'Neal just how much money can be skimmed off the top from outsourcing these sorts of things. Now, what is this I hear about you not thinking your boys have any challengers?

[Mister Haliburton shrugs]

Mr. H: Well, my dear Ms. Carlisle-Skullhead, the rumors say that Lights, Camera, and Action are wanting to settle their issues with the Chromosomes. The Dreams, while promising, don't have the track record to challenge for the tag titles. And with Fury currently... doing whatever it is Rage and Spice do in their free time... well, that leaves my Problem Solvers without any real competition now, doesn't it?

BCS: I dare say that sounds like a challenge Mister Haliburton. I can find your boys an opponent with great ease and I can do so for SplatterNad.

[Mister Haliburton smiles.]

Mr. H: I certainly hope so, Rebecca... may I call you Rebecca?

BCS: No.

Mr. H: As you wish. You see, the goal of the Hand of Doom is very simple- Power. To have power, one must have wealth. To have wealth in wrestling, one must sell out seats to the fans. To do that, we need a challenge. [Mister Haliburton shrugs] Of course, any team you send after us will be dealt with ease. But the trick is to fool the fans into paying money to THINK that someone might dethrone my Problem Solvers. But we know differently... don't we?

BCS: I've seen many tag teams in my day Mr. Haliburton. And I know that Muldoon and Davidson are not unbeatable. The fans think you can be dethroned because you _can_ be. And I have just the team in mind that could do it.

[Becky flashes a confident smile.]

BCS: What say we raise the stakes here? Why not an old fashioned mystery opponent for SplatterNad? I'll even make it the main event of the first night to sweeten the deal.

[Mister Haliburton looks up from the title and raises an eyebrow.]

Mr. H: The Main Event? Which means Main Event money, correct?

[Becky nods as Mister Haliburton smiled and stands up]

Mr. H: I think we have a deal, Ms. Carlisle-Skullhead. My Problem Solvers look forward to your team. It's a pleasure doing business with you, as always.

BCS: Charmed as always.

[Fade.]

Skullhead: And it looks like we've got ourselves another match for SplatterNad. In fact, it'll be the main event of the first night.

Pinhead: The main event spotlight has always made Mister Haliburton happy.

Slush: Does that improve the odds when you make a bet?

Pinhead: Only for him.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: Tinkle, I really don't think you're capable of running numbers for him.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: Nor do I think you could break kneecaps for him.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: While funny... just... no.

Tinkle: ...

Slush: Don't pout. It's unbecoming.

Skullhead: Our next match of the evening pits Jan Delgado versus Kiora Donavon.

Slush: With Saint Holly as the special guest referee,

Pinhead: Saint?

Slush: She's the purest person I know.

Pinhead: You know Slush. I'm really disturbed by all this religion your blaspheming.

Slush: I don't know what you're talking about.

Pinhead: Kristianity, Saint Holly... I'm sure your crusade for Eveline Eriksen will take on a religious tone at some point.

Slush: Just doing my part for God.

Pinhead: And I'm sure he wishes you'd stop.

Skullhead: Jan Delgado continues her gauntlet here tonight. She got past Luna and Aurora Cordova and if she can get by Kiora Donavon then she comes a step closer to facing her cousin.

[The scene opens to Jan Delgado, making her way backstage. She's clad in a tank top and pleated, mini skirt. She also wears a pair of boots, her black hair falling straight down her back. She suddenly stops as she spots former MBCer Amazing Grace, chatting with one of the backstage crew. Grace is dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white blouse. The duo stop speaking and the crew member departs with a wave as Jan approaches Grace.]

Jan: I've been wanting to meet you for a long time.

[Grace turns.]

Jan: You're Amazing Grace, right?

Grace: That's correct.

Jan: I'm Jan Delgado, Holly's cousin and I was your replacement in Hot Commodities.

Grace: [nodding] So I have been told. What can I do for you?

Jan: I was just wondering how in the Hell you managed to get along with my cousin without wringing her fool neck!?!

Grace: [folding her arms] Long story short, she and I became friends back when UWF-E was around. I offered to bring her into MBC as my tag team partner. Now, at the time, I was partly looking to get under the skin of Leanna and Lolita Love... but the truth was, I did consider her a friend and someone I could count as a partner.

Jan: [frowns] Well, she and I were nothing like that. She did nothing but treat me like complete and total crap from day one. And now that I'm not even working with her anymore, it still hasn't stopped.

Grace: I see... when I was her partner, I never treated her as anything less than my equal. What do you suppose would motivate her to treat you as anything but her equal?

Jan: [sighs] I think she just wanted to keep me as her glorified slave and she couldn't handle me wanting better for myself. Plus, she's got a problem taking no for an answer. Just ask poor Erik Grimsson. She tried to cripple him! Hopefully, I'll get to face her at SplatterNad and get her away from me once and for all.

Grace: [nodding] Fair enough... although I understand she's not just letting you have that SplatterNad match up front.

Jan: Well, I have to make it through this fake gauntlet of hers first. You know she likes to make people jump through hoops. I think she gets off on it. Anyway, she's not only got me fighting that sicko, Kiora, tonight but Holly's going to be the special referee too. So, I have to be at 150% because those wenches will be trying everything to screw me over.

Grace: I will say that my eyebrows were raised when she joined up with the Hand of Doom. I know Holly was disappointed that I chose to retire from wrestling and understood she wanted to find somebody to back her up... I just hope she realizes what she is doing.

Jan: Well, we'll see. Anyway, I'd better go. My match is soon. Nice meeting you.

Grace: The same here. Take care.

Jan: Thanks. You too.

[Jan turns and walks off. As Grace goes to do the same, a familiar voice stops her.]

Voice: What were you doing, talking to _her_!?!

[Grace turns to see Holly Hotbody, stepping from the shadows. Today, the busty seductress is clad in a black and white, string bikini and black, platform boots, looking like the sexiest referee the MBC's seen. Her auburn hair falls down her back in curls. There's a less than pleased look on her face, her hands on her hips.]

Grace: And what exactly was wrong with somebody who is retired from the business talking to another wrestler?

Holly: Listen, Grace, I'm saying this as a friend, probably the only one that you have left. You don't want to waste your time with Jan. She's a nobody...a nothing and, after tonight, a distant memory.

Grace: What exactly is it that you have against her? She seems like a talented enough wrestler.

Holly: [grins] Let's just say that Kiora and I are done with her and ready to send her out of the MBC in style. So, believe me when I say that you don't want to waste your time being friendly to some loser who barely has a career.

Grace: [folding her arms] Holly... I do consider you a friend. But my days as a wrestler are over and I've learned to gain some perspective... drop some grudges and move forward with my life. I'm not going to turn my nose up to anybody who wants to talk to me. You have your issues with Jan, you deal with him.

But leave me out of them. I am retired... and the issues are not my concern.

[She then goes to leave, but puts a hand on Holly's shoulder.]

Grace: I do, however, hope that you can trust the company you are now keeping.

[Grace then walks off. Holly folds her arms across her chest, an incredulous look on her face as the scene fades to black.]

Slush: Your girlfriend is back!

Pinhead: Amazing Grace is not my girlfriend. Never has been and likely never will.

Slush: A-HA! You're holding out hope!

Skullhead: Interesting to see Grace here tonight. And as Grace has gained some perspective, hopefully by Jan talking with her, the youngster can gain some of her own.

Pinhead: And she'll need it facing Kiora. I don't envy Jan at all. With Holly officiating this match, I don't see any easy way for Jan to win tonight.

[The setting is a KOA Campground. Though it looks similar to any number of campgrounds throughout the United States and Canada, a perceptive person can tell from the foliage and the accents in the background that this particular campground is in Missouri. Also, there's a captain at the bottom of the screen that says: "KOA Campground, just outside St Louis, Missouri.]

Kiora: Travelling across the country like gypsies. This is really annoying.

[Quickly the camera pans around to find the source of the speaking and lo and behold, there is Kiora Donavon. Not that we were expecting anybody else, since she was the person speaking. Kiora is wearing a pair of cut off jeans and a tankini emblazoned with the Hand of Doom logo and is looking rather irritated, meaning it's pretty much an average day for her. In the background a camper van with the Hand of Doom logo spray painted on it can be seen. It is currently being washed by two red haired boys, who are clearly the twins Liam and Cormac. We know this because the camera can make out the dark t-shirts they wear, with their names emblazoned upon them.]

Kiora: But not nearly as annoying as what I have to put up with lately in the MBC. Oh I don't mind mentoring the B.O.B crew and naturally I'm honoured to be a member of the Hand of Doom but there's one little fly in the ointment that never fails to ruin my good time. The Love Family.

[Nothing new here, as the mention of the Love Family causes a sour expression to appear on Kiora's face.]

Kiora: I had hoped that they would learn their lesson when Amber Rogers and I took the Psycho Driver titles away from them, yet I find they're still sticking their noses where they're not wanted. Had Leanna not stuck her nose into my business, Jan Delgado would be dealt with by now and everybody would be happy. I could go back to trying to ridding the MBC of the redundant Woman's title so everybody could go back to competing for the World title as it should be and nobody would be forced to watch Jan's inept attempts at wrestling. Instead, Leanna interfered and I have to take a personal hand in matters.

[A wicked grin spreads over Kiora's face. She'd actually have a nice smile if it didn't appear only when she was thinking about doing people severe bodily harm. Or when she's thinking about Andrea Christian. Curiously the two thoughts coincide disturbingly often.]

Kiora: You might think you saved Jan last week Leanna, but instead you've only made things worse for her. I do hope the sight of Jan Delgado's mangled body rests upon your conscience for a good long time Leanna. It should you know, her career is about to end at my hands and it's all your fault.

[Fade to black.]

______________________________________________________
/_ __/ __ )_ __/
/ / / __ |/ / JAN DELGADO versus
/ / / /_/ // / KIORA DONAVON
/_/ /_____//_/
|____________________________________Writer: Kyle B. Lee


[The odds constantly stacking higher and higher against her, Jan Delgado could always take comfort in the fact that support from the fans was increasing as well. Her loudest ovation to date greeted the youngster as she made her way ringside. Her numerousness was apparent but she swallowed it whole knowing a one on one confrontation was practically a win away. However, it did her confidence no good when she saw Kiora Donavon and Holly Hotbody, her opponent and referee respectively, come down the aisle together. Kiora wore a knowing smile while Holly's referee attire left little to the imagination. Still, Jan took it in stride and prepared as best she could. Once in the ring, Hotbody called both women to the center of the ring so she could cover the rules. Holly first turned to Kiora and said simply “hi" before turning to Jan and giving her a laundry list of rules and regulations. And just before finishing, Kiora came from nowhere and clocked Jan with her Thighmaster. Holly simply shrugged and mouthed "Before the bell. Out of my control." Kiora tossed the Thighmaster to a ring attendant and _then_ the bell rang.]

Skullhead: Things already not looking good for Jan.

Pinhead: Taking a Thighmaster to the side of the head is never a good thing.

Slush: Can I start calling you Captain Obvious now?

Pinhead: As if anything I say would persuade you not to.

Slush: I don't know... you could say something profound. I doubt it, but there's a chance.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: And why are you getting on to me for encouraging him?

[It was simple. Kiora was ruthless and vicious. Holly would often turn her back so Kiora could lay on the punishment that would be allowed in only a farce of a match such as this. Holly would occasionally do her job. Like try and make a fast pinfall or give a very lenient five count in the corner. But like all villains in a story of "good versus evil", Holly wanted to humiliate before defeating. Now of course, this often lead to the eventual downfall of said villain, but Kiora's control was so tight that Holly had little to worry about. Jan did well to cover and defend herself but Kiora's assault was such that Delgado had little chance to fight back.]

Skullhead: Jan seems to be shaking off the effects of being hit in the head.

Pinhead: But it's dealing with everything else that's a problem right now.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: You're right. Saint Holly is doing a commendable job.

Pinhead: Commendable? She's an awful referee.

Slush: She's great! She's letting them fight.

Pinhead: No, she's letting Jan get punched in the face with a closed fist.

Slush: When I was a wrestler I liked it when the ref gave us room to fight.

Pinhead: Said the man with his own team of cheating little people.

Slush: Do not besmirch the good name of Snowflake!

[Despite the fact that this match was obviously a joke, Jan Delgado still pushed forward as if she still had a fighting chance. And as time wore on, with each little step she took forward, it seemed possible that yes, Jan could do it. For you see, Holly turned her back often. And in those instances, Jan began to fight just as dirty as Kiora did. It only angered Kiora but no longer was the match so lopsided. Jan started working in stiff shots and kicks, finally backing Donavon away enough for Delgado to catch a breather. And when Holly finally realized that Delgado wasn't going to go down as easily as she thought, she was completely surprised. A look of both awe and disgust came over Holly's face as Delgado gained the upper hand in the match, taking Kiora down and keeping her off her feet.]

Skullhead: I didn't think it was possible but Jan is back in this!

Pinhead: We seem to have forgotten the fact that in all that time she was with Holly, Jan had time to learn Holly's tendencies and tricks. It's finally coming to bite Hotbody in the ass.

Slush: And such a wonderful ass Saint Hotbody has.

Pinhead: That's not very saintly for you to bring up.

Slush: I never said that saints can't be hot. I heard St. Patrick was a mean drunk and St. Valentine was a lover of women. They can be flawed.

Pinhead: ...

Slush: What?

Skullhead: Delgado running to the ropes... and she gets tripped by Holly!

[And of course, Holly pleaded innocent as Kiora pounced right back on top of Delgado. Despite the little assistance, the momentum was well in Jan's favor and the pouncing cheetah that was Kiora didn't quite have a hold on the gazelle named Jan Delgado. Jan and Kiora pretty much brawled, the former with desperation and the later with anger. Holly soon had enough and attacked Jan from behind. Hotbody took two handfuls of hair and slammed Delgado backwards. Despite all her forward progress, there wouldn't be enough to overcome this two on one assault. Kiora and Holly beat down Jan relentlessly. They focused in on Delgado's arm and assaulted it until Jan yelled out in severe pain. Several other referees finally came down to regain control of the match. The senior official ruled the match a no contest, not that it mattered to Kiora and Holly. The damage had been done and without the win, Jan would not get her match against Holly.]

RING ANNOUNCER: This match has been ruled a NO CONTEST!

Skullhead: And with that result, Holly got exactly what she wanted.

Pinhead: She may have gotten more. Jan looks to be injured.

Slush: All these women getting hurt... tsk, tsk.

Pinhead: Well when you're assaulted by someone who intends to injure you, that can be a little out of your control.

Slush: They need to man up!

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: Don't be ridiculous. There is no such thing as "hamstering up".

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: I did not want to know that!

Skullhead: Folks, we'll keep you posted on Jan's injury status. Hopefully it's nothing bad. In the meantime, I'm told we have this pretaped segment from Billy McKenzie.

Pinhead: Poor, poor Scud.

Skullhead: Apparently he got dragged into the BOB Club... definitely poor, poor Scud.

[Camera cut to a very close-up shot of Billy "Scud" Mackenzie, holding a mic close, staring, terrified, into the camera. Sweat is running down his face, so much so that the "gold" chain of his massive bling is starting to turn green. Somewhere nearby, we hear a huge CRASH--something big and heavy falling--and Scud flinches.]

Scud: I'm, uh, here at the request of Crimson to cover what is the final round of the Brotherhood of Bastards tournament. It seems that uh, Johanna Suprema--

[Scud is cut off by yet another crash, followed by the unmistakable sound of people cheering.]

Scud: --Johanna was, uh, not satisfied in just winning the brackets of the BOB Club and wanted to challenge Sanders himself. She picked a hardcore falls-count-anywhere match and he picked the venue, which is, uh...

[The camera swings up, and over the edge of Scud's hiding place.. and we see the interior of a casino; a riverboat casino, in fact. Patrons are lined up along the walls, cheering on the whirling dervish at its center.

And it is something. Harley and Johanna both are prelims, but they've stepped up their game for each other, and the wreckage shows. It's like a tornado hit the place: tables and slot machines are scattered everywhere, some toppled, some broken... and our two wrestlers exchange blows at the center of it all, tossing each other around while pit bosses and security barely keep people from stampeding for loose chips.

Scud edges his head up to take in the damage as Johanna whips Harley into a bay of slot machines.]

Scud: ...a casino. I don't know how this happened and I don't know why we all aren't under arrest, but we're not. they've been at this for twenty minutes and they aren't stop-- wait!

[Harley crashes into the machines and stumbles, dazed. Johanna, as bloody as her opponent, seizes on the opportunity. She spears him in the stomach and drops him and, with what little coherence she has left, pulls one of the slot machines down on Harley. The crowd cries out and winces with Scud.]

Scud: OOOOH!

[Johanna puts her foot on Harley's chest and looks around. Almost timidly, one of the pit bosses drops and counts it out.

ONE...


TWO...


THREE!!!!

Johanna throws her fists up as the gathered crowd cheers and, after a moment, she takes Harley's arm and helps him up.

The two stare at each other a moment.

Harley grabs Johanna's wrist...

Scud and the camera guy come charging over.]

Scud: We have a winner! Johanna Suprema wins the--

[Harley stiffarms Scud's face and swipes his microphone. Scud drops like a sack of potatoes. Harley turns and regards the gathered onlookers.]

Harley: The first ever winner of the Brotherhood of Bastards tournament, and the first member of the new Hand of Doom Hitmen...

[Harley, finally, holds Johanna's arm up.]

Harley: JOHANNA SUPREMA!

[Johanna holds her arms up and soaks in the applause while Harley turns to look directly into the camera.]

Harley: See you in Styx, MBC.

[Harley looks at Johanna and nods aside.]

Harley: Now let's go [MEEP]ing gamble.

[Fade.]

Skullhead: The Hitmen... God, haven't heard that name in forever... not since 1997 I dare say.

Pinhead: The Hand of Doom was so large, they had their own subgroup. Wasn't pleasant for anyone.

Skullhead: And now that the prelims have increased their power... they won't be pushed around anymore. They mean business.

Slush: I knew it! They've tasted the flesh of their opponents and have absorbed their powers!

Pinhead: I don't think they've actually gone that far.

Slush: How do you know? You're not supposed to talk about what goes on in BOB Club. They could all be ravenous cannibals!

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: WENDIGO!

Skullhead: Umm... sure. Let's move on to other reality based programming.

[Camera cut to static, then to a handheld camera, which moves around rapidly before it focuses on a young man with a shaved head. He's dressed in a simple tanktop and athletic shorts and sneakers, and he has a large Army duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He appears to in a grocery store, and he appears to be very excited about this.]

Man: Are we on? Steve? Is it working? Yeah?

[The young man straightens up and flashes a brilliant, half-crazy smile.]

Man: Hi, America! I'm Jed Snedley, but soon enough you'll know me as the best, most versatile preliminary wrestler in all of... wrestlerdom. You shall know me as... JED SNEDLEY, MAN OF A THOUSAND FACES.

[Jed smiles proudly and tugs on the duffel bag strap.]

Jed: The faces are all in here. So, uh, I've been trying to break into the Mighty Bastard Championship--fill that gap left by the Brotherhood of Bastards because I'm a real good gap-filler, my older and younger siblings used to say--but my audition tape must have gotten lost in the mail because, uh, they haven't gotten back to me. And won't take my calls. But don't worry!

[Jed smiles even wider, and nods. He keeps his crazy eyes on the camera.]

Jed: I know just how to get their attention! I've managed to track down...

[Jed pauses and leans over, looking down an aisle, then snaps his head back up and nods at the camera man. Suddenly his voice drops to a whisper.]

Jed: It's him! Get a look at him!

[Hardi is carefully weighing his options for bread purchase. Why are there so many different breads?! White, wheat, oat, rye, whole wheat, enriched bleached flour, multigrain, wide, long there are too many choices!]

Hardi: Dammit! I just want some toast!

Jed [Off camera]: This is my chance!

[There's some shuffling of clothing behind the camera, then Jed steps into frame dressed like... well, sorta dressed like an average schlub, but his expression and the way he's poofed up his hair suggests Jerry Seinfeld. Vaguely. Sealing the resemblance is a nametag on his chest that says "Jerry Seinfeld." The duffel bag, now unzipped, stays slung over his shoulder.

Jed--Jerry--steps up to Hardi. His Seinfeld voice is... lacking.]

Jed: What is the DEAL with all the BREAD? You don't know if you want the WHITE bread or the WHEAT bread or what! Where do they sell the BREAD bread, am I right?!

[Steve, holding the camera, plays the part of the hooting and laughing audience.]

Hardi: Oh no. Please tell me I’m not involved in a reality TV show right now. I am, aren’t I? I mean, I’ve always wanted to pick a fight with Seinfeld but the opportunity was never there. This would be fantastic but I have to ask what are you doing?

[Hardi selects Sara Lee Hearty & Delicious 100% multi-grainhttp://tinyurl.com/nus6e5 and moves to the next aisle, canned goods]

Jerry/Jed: No, wait, it's not--! Steve stay on him while I change!

[Steve the camera man makes haste to follow Hardi into the canned goods aisle, and a moment later, after some more loud shuffling sounds... Jed comes bursting through the canned goods, knocking a whole pallet of creamed corn to the ground. He's wearing a yellow Star Trek shirt and a horrible wig. The cadence... Shatner.]

Jed/Kirk: Stardate... 3.14159265. I've landed on a strange alien... planet. With no intelligent life... in sight.

[Jed stares meaningfully at Hardi.]

Jed/Kirk: Except for one exotic alien... princess. That I may... get to know better.

[Hardi, holding a delicious can of Bush Best Grillin’ Beans: Burbon and Brown Sugar http://tinyurl.com/4f6a9o hurls the can straight into Jed/Kirk’s head]

Hardi: Cleanup on aisle ... wait, that’s a horribly overused pun. Phasers have been set to stun. What the hell are you doing?

[Hardi grabs another can of beans and heads down the next aisle: Hispanic foods]

[Jed/Kirk drops like a ton of bricks, and Steve, hesitant at first, follows Hardi. Moments later, Jed follows as well, now in something like a suit... apparently dazed and confused from the hit. Or is it a Christopher Walken impersonation?]

Jed/Walken: You see.. the thing is.. I want to wrestle.. in your little federation. It would mean everything to me.. something I could tell my children.. something I could give to them... like my daddy giving me this gold watch.

[Jed/Walken pulls out a golden watch, and Hardi recoils from the smell.]

Hardi: Oh my God that’s just horrible.

[Hardi grabs some Newman’s Own Pineapple salsahttp://tinyurl.com/mbvbzd]

Hardi: Why don’t we head down where cleaning supplies are? I’m going to hose you with some 409, Tilex or whatever Billy Mays product is available.

[Jed/Walken teeters.. looks ready to say something... then collapses.]

Jed/Walken: Sham..Wow.

[A beat.]

Jed/Walken: Please hire me.

Hardi: Hmm.. Let me confer with my people.

[Hardi whips out a cell phone and places a speed dial call]

Hardi: Yo. What’s up? I got jumped by someone who’s looking for a job in the MBC. In the grocery store. No, I don’t think they want to be a roadie. Look, I know we’re short on roadies but he’s been dressing in a bunch of costumes and does a pretty mean Walken impersonation. I’m not going to ask him if he wants to do a roadie impersonation. No. NO. Dammit no! Ok. I’ll ask him that.

[Looking at Jed]

Hardi: Can you do Ozzy?

[Jed, still laid flat on the floor, unzips his duffel bag and manages to tug a ratty, long-haired black wig onto his head. His voice slurs, but that could be the concussion.]

Jed: Go' bless yuu all... and goo'nigh'.

[And with that, Jed passes out.]

Hardi: Dedication. Love it. You’re hired.

[looking at the camera guy]

Hardi: You can just play that back for him when he wakes up, right? I’ve got important work to do here. Oooh blue Oreos!

[And as Hardi wanders off, the camera cuts out.]

Slush: Here's a question.

Pinhead: Brace yourselves.

Slush: Can this guy... Jed.. Sned... Adrian Zmed.

Pinhead: The dude from Grease 2?

Slush: Grease 2? I thought he was the Highlander dude.

Pinhead: That's Adrian Paul.

Slush: Huh... anyways... what was I talking about?

Pinhead: I don't know. You tell me.

Slush: But I asked you.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: Right. The impersonator dude.

Pinhead: Sure.

Slush: If we're going to hire anybody to replace the B.O.B. guys, then shouldn’t we start by hiring somebody to capture Bear Shaft?

Pinhead: You mean he's still roaming around?

Slush: Bear Shaft finds himself leaping from place to place, striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that his next leap, will be the leap home.

Pinhead: ...

Skullhead: So, Scott Bakula references aside... let's go to this.

Slush: Oh boy.

Fade to... white?]

Female Voice: I feel ridiculous.

[The camera pans back to reveal that we, the viewer, are inside of a hospital room. It's kind of bland and well... sterile. Sterile would be the best word for it. The source of the voice is Akeyla Ruiz who lays in a hospital bed, seemingly bored out of her mind and irritated that she has to be here.]

AR: It's just surgery. Don't see why I have to be in bed while I wait.

[Next to the bid sits a familiar redhead, Ruiz's mentor and teacher Tesla St. James. She's reading a magazine that's probably about five years old.]

TSJ: Just be patient and let them do their job. It's all for the better.

AR: I swear, when I get out of here I'm going right after Eveline Eriksen.

TSJ: Whether or not she did this to you on purpose is inconsequential. You need to get surgery on your shoulder and arm taken care of first. And once you're clear, then you can get back in the ring and squeeze her neck till her head pops. And all your friends from Bastard Stampede are wandering around the hospital to check in on you. Just be relieved that all your friends are here to support you.

[Clearly not satisfied, Akeyla squints her eyes and decides to do a little needling.]

AR: So is this what Erik Grimsson had to put up with?

[Tesla closes her magazine and bites her bottom lip to keep from snapping. After a deep breath, she looks at her protégé.]

TSJ: If Erik keeps on doing what he's doing, he'll end up just like you are. Except it'll be his own damn fault.

[With a wound open, Akeyla smiles enjoying the opportunity to turn the tables.]

AR: So is this why you..

TSJ: Shut it. We're not going to talk about it. And if you keep at it, I'll knock you out myself. Nurses won't get a chance.

[Speaking of not having a chance and knocking... there's a knock at the door that is soon gently pushed open to let in an abdominous little man, hiding behind a lightly shaking bouquet of flowers. It's a mix of yellow roses and daisies, brought to life by a few lavender blossoms; surprisingly tasteful and appropriate.]

TSJ: What are _you_ doing here?

WH: Heh-hello, there. I'm...

[All eyes turn to him, like a lamp in an interrogation room, hard, suspicious, and accusing. The intruder nervously clears his throat.]

WH: I'm William Houlder, Ms. Eriksen's manager. And... uh [He gulps.] Ms. Ruiz... Eveline and I were worried about your health, so we wanted you to have these flowers.

[With a lightly shaking hand, he places the bouquet on the hospital bed, next to Akeyla's healthy arm. She eyes him in silence.]

WH: Err... And, uh, since we feel terrible about what happened... Accidents hap-happen all the time, but... You still feel bad when they do. Even in a physical sport like wrestling... S-so... we wanted you to have this little teddy bear as well.

[Houlder sits the bear on the nearby night table, then turns it a few degrees so it looks up at Akeyla with it's beady little eyes.]

AR: Thank you, I guess.

[The bear tips over.]

WH: It.. It-it's holding a card.

AR: I noticed.

[Houlder nervously sets the bear upright again, then points at the card it's holding.]

WH: There's a cartoon man on it, an-an-and he's starving in the desert. I mean he's thirsty.

AR: Right.

WH: Parched.

AR: Quite.

WH: He-he-he's dying of thirst.

AR: No, I saw, I saw.

WH: And, and it says...

AR: "Get well soon." Right.

WH: I... We... I thought it was funny.

[The bear tips over again.]

AR: Appreciate the gesture, thanks.

WH: And.. uh...

[He turns to Tesla.]

WH: Well... I-I didn't think you'd be here, Tes-Tes... Tess. So, uh... [He rummages around in his pockets.] I, I have some Life Savers. The next one is a green one. [He examines the pack more closely.] But the one behind it is red. Want a red Life Saver? I can get the red Life Saver if you don't like the green ones...

TSJ: Don't worry about it Mister Houlder. The thought is appreciated.

[Tesla stands and walks over to a nearby sink. There stands a empty vase. Tesla rinses the vase out before filling it with water. She takes the flowers that Houlder brought and places them inside before setting by the window.]

TSJ: The flowers are lovely. Aren't they Akeyla.

AR: Sure.

[Tesla shoots Akeyla an icy glare, who rolls her eyes in response.]

TSJ: We fully understand that accidents do happen. But I for one am more than a little concerned that Eveline has a history of this.

[Tesla then looks around the room.]

TSJ: And I find her noticeably absent. Your presence here says wonders about your character Mister Houlder. And Eveline's presence does much the same.

[Houlder obsessively tries to sit the bear just right as he talks, likely trying to camouflage his nervousness.]

WH: Yes... No. She... she, em, she sent me - uh - first, because, um, you know, we wanted to be sure... we thought maybe Ms. Ruiz she - you - might be a little bit angry... a little - Which would be normal, mind you... given the, the...

[Finally, Houlder uses his half-eaten Life Saver pack as a bear bench. For the first time, it looks like the plush critter will stay up on its own, its benevolent beady eyes wishing Akeyla a speedy recovery. Or plotting her untimely demise, who can truly say with these stuffed animals?]

WH: ... given the situation. So. [He clears his throat.] So yeah. It's it's from both of us. She's sorry. About the accident. Because that's what it was. I try to tell them they should lower the ring by a few feet so a tumble isn't as dangerous, but-but they never listen to me... Europe, it's... It's totally different, because... Those leagues ... federations I mean ... They sent completely untrained girls into battle, its-its-it's not the same thing at all. Because she-you, ah, Akeyla-err Ms. Ruiz is well trained. Expertly trained. By the best, so... So it's not the same thing, because accidents happen. They just do, I think.

TSJ: I get what you're saying Mister Houlder. It's all right. Right Akeyla?

AR: Yeah sure. I still want a rematch.

TSJ: And I'm sure Mister Houlder will take that into consideration yes?

[Before Houlder can respond, a young nurse wanders in and catches the eye of the camera, dare we say a few others? Oh the male brain, back again. It loves itself some sexy nurses.

Mmm... Sexy nurses...]

Nurse: It's time to prep Ms. Ruiz for her surgery. So Ms. St. James, you and your father will need to head to the waiting room.

TSJ: He's not my...

[Akeyla can't help but laugh.]

Nurse: Oh good to see you in such high spirits Ms. Ruiz.

AR: Yeah, I am now. See ya Tes. Go have lunch or something with your dad.

[Tesla shoots Akeyla another icy glare but before either Houlder or Tesla an say anything, the nurse herds them both out of the room. As Akeyla lays back and awaits being taken to surgery, the camera comes to the stuffed teddy bear. It stays upright for a second before plopping back over. Damn Life Savers candy. Can't hold up a plush toy to save its life... so to speak.]

Skullhead: I've got to commend Mister Houlder for following up where a lot of people wouldn't.

Pinhead: Like Eveline Eriksen?

Slush: Hey! She went shopping! She could be buying a nice get well gift for Rufus.

Pinhead: Ruiz.

Slush: Whatever. The point is...

Pinhead: You have a point?

Slush: You're unfairly persecuting Eveline. You're the reason I've started my crusade to help her!

Pinhead: Give me the bullet points for your crusade. Wrap it up for me in a nutshell.

Slush: You have to give me the password.

Pinhead: There's a password?

Slush: Unfortunately... I forgot it...

Tinkle: MEEP!

[The camera cuts once again to the backstage area. Here, we find Erik Grimsson limping down the hallway, enjoying himself a hotdog from one of the arena's many vendors. People are eyeing him with interest. Some of it is morbid curiosity, while some of it is out of fear. Those with fear soon clear away. And one in particular - you'd recognize his face as the preliminary wrestler Canadian Bacon...]

CB: And here we are... the world's most dangerous prey, eh? I mean... crikey!

[He's not very Canadian, nor is he very bacony.]

CB: Off to get the bounty I am! Then time for me - AUSTRALIAN BRATWURST - to make my mark!

[Doesn't make sense to me either. And as you can see as the camera pans back, Canadian Bacon... I mean..... Australian Bratwurst has traded his Mountie styled hat and red pajamas for a decided "Crocodile Hunter" type uniform.]

CB: Time to put one on the barbie!

[With a mad dash, the dimwitted preliminary wrestler charges headlong at the dimwitted superstar. Erik sees him coming, smiles and drops his hotdog. Lowering his own head, he breaks into full sprint.]

KKKEERRRRRRAAAAACCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Skull meets skull head on as Erik runs through the Australian Bratwurst full speed ahead, KO'ing him before he even hits the ground. He looks down at his felled would be attacker and smiles.]

Erik: Dude, that was so fun. Let's play again sometime.
[However, he frowns as something seems to dawn on him.]

Erik: [MEEP]! Now I need to get another hotdog!

[He now looks down at the unconscious heap lying before him.]

Erik: Dude, I changed my mind. You totally suck!

[Erik wanders off to get a new hot dog, leaving "Australian Bratwurst" in a crumpled mess. Bacon stirs, his head aching from the collision.]

CB: Bratwurst not my thing eh? Day can't get worse.

[Alas, suddenly a large shadow is cast over Canadian "Australian Bratwurst" Bacon. It's so large that it can't possibly be human. And it has a fro.]

Bear Shaft: RAAAAAARRR!

CB: [MEEP] me eh!

[Fade.]

Slush: See! The Bear Shaft! He runs free!

Pinhead: And right about now, he's tasting him some Canadian... or Australian... whatever. I give up.

Slush: I fear for my safety.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: I don't think bears eat hamster.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: That's just perverted.

Skullhead: Ladies and gentlemen, later tonight we have Jerry Titus taking on Stan Crawford in the sixth match of the Death Cycle. Standing by right now is Billy McKenzie who has caught up to The Shotgun.

[Billy "Scud" McKenzie stands with Stan Crawford. Crawford stands in an MBC T-Shirt and black pants. He has a noticeable black eye, there is a large brace on his left knee, and his right wrist and elbow are wrapped.]

BSM: Stan Crawford, tonight is the sixth match in the Death Cycle, the Seven Tables of Over Gruesome Effects, or STOOGE match. The first question that I have to ask you, Stan, is: how do you feel?

SC: I'm a mess Billy. I knew these matches with Jerry Titus would be difficult. The doctors and trainers tell me I'm crazy. Some of the boys in the back have told me they're worried for my long-term health. I've got a bad knee, a bad arm, and I'm probably suffering from post-concussion syndrome. Any lesser man would have retired or quit by now, and they'd be giving Jerry Titus a nickname like "Legend Killer". I'm not quitting. I'm not backing down.

BSM: Some say you've been ignoring doctor's advice. I'm sure if you asked, Stan, the MBC would be willing to postpone this match until you're cleared to wrest...

SC (interrupting): Don't finish that sentence. I've never cancelled a match. I've never backed down from a challenge. Plus, everybody is acting like Jerry Titus isn't hurt. I've lost some matches, yes, but Jerry lost some, too, and I've beaten him just as bad as he's beaten me. I've heard his cries of pain. I've seen the incredulous look on his face when I've gotten up every time he's knocked me down. I've also seen what these matches have done to him. He's a different man. He's a better wrestler than he was when we started this. He's done what he set out to do: prove that he belongs in the MBC. It's time for me to prove to myself and the doubters that I still belong here in the MBC. That belt belongs back on my waist.

BSM: Thank you Stan, and good luck tonight.

[Camera fades]

Pinhead: If either man can still wrestle after this Death Cycle is done, I'll be amazed.

Slush: If you want to be amazed I could always jiggle my keys at you. I know you like the shiny.

Skullhead: A lot of time can go between these matches but they've been so brutal that neither man may have had time to properly heal. I wouldn't be surprised if they took time off once it’s done.

Pinhead: And I wouldn't be surprised if they showed up the next night wanting to go. Both Titus and Crawford are two of the most committed individuals I've ever met.

Slush: They should _be_ committed.

Pinhead: Speaking of committing...

[We cut to the inside of the office of MBC's esteemed owner Kyle Lee. We can tell it's Kyle's office because he's already marked his territory with a vast amount of empty Dr Pepper cans. Clean up after yourself, will you?]

KL: HEY!

[Suddenly, there's a knock on the door.]

KL: Come in.

[Entering now is the MBC's utterly non-trivial Grandmaster Typo Champion Taylor MacKenzie, currently wearing street clothes and a serious expression.]

Taylor: Can I talk to you about a few things? Like Landis, for starters...

KL: Which one? [Kyle shoots MacKenzie a stern look.] Given who your boyfriend is facing tonight, are there any last minute "predictions" I should be made aware of? The insurance companies really prefer that I give them a heads' up these days.

[A tight, ugly grin forms on Taylor's face.]

Taylor: [matter-of-factly] Really, just because I'd like to drag Brianna Landis out to the alley in the back, punch her right in the baby-maker a few hundred times and go at her face with the business end of a melon baller doesn't mean I'm going to do anything during her and D's match tonight.

[Kyle, to put it mildly, doesn't look convinced. Taylor drops the grin.]

KL: Uh-HUH.

Taylor: Honestly, Kyle. I trust D. I don't trust HER, but I trust D. And I'm not gonna screw up his title shot.

KL: Fair enough. [Lee still doesn't look convinced, but he just shrugs.] Since it's not Brianna, I'm assuming then you want to talk about...

Taylor: ...Tom, yeah. [A look of all business now forms on MacKenzie's face.] I know we're on tap for SplatterNad already, but I still can't shake the feeling that Tom Landis isn't taking me seriously as a challenger. He's so wrapped up with One Winged Angel that I'm just an afterthought. A third wheel. [Her eyes narrow.] I can't let that stand.

[She folds her arms across her chest.]

Taylor: I want a one-on-one match against Tom Landis next TBT. Non-title for both of us. That way everyone won't have a reason to bitch...Max, Ryu or Angel.

KL: Trust me, Angel will find a reason to bitch. [He rubs his forehead.] You're sure that's what you want?

Taylor: [nodding] Believe me, I want all Landises to know _exactly_ what I'm capable of.

KL: Consider it booked then.

Taylor: Excellent. Now, about Slush... [She cracks her knuckles.] I get to punish him any way I see fit, right? He won't get to weasel out of it?

KL: Well, apart from murder. Too much paperwork. But you have my solemn word as a Bastard that whatever punishment you give him will happen. I'll sign off on it now.

[As Lee quickly jots something down on a piece of paper, then signs and notarizes it, that ugly grin returns far too quickly upon the GMT Champ's face.]

Taylor: Excellent. That little maggot violated my privacy. My personal space...

[She reaches into her back pocket...


*CLUNK*


...and drops a pair of handcuffs onto Kyle's desk.]

Taylor: ...it's only right that the punishment fits the crime then.

[Kyle's eyes just widen in shock. Then, understanding hits.]

KL: ...oh no...

Taylor: Oh yes...

[Cut back to the Unholy 3 and 3/8ths.]

Slush: WOO-HOO!

[Slush suddenly jumps up and thrusts his arms in the air.]

Slush: I'm gonna have me some NEKKID TIME with Taylor!

Tinkle: MEEP!

Pinhead: You sad, deluded little man. You're getting PUNISHED!

Slush: Whip me, beat me, dress me up like a Dalek and call me Rose -- IT'S NEKKID TIME!!

Pinhead: And knock it off with those pelvic thrusts!

Skullhead: Let it go...

Pinhead: But--

Skullhead: Trust me on this.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Pinhead: Fine.

Skullhead: This does bring us to the next match of the evening.

Slush: Let me get my vomit bag.

Skullhead: Brianna Landis defends the UWF/MBC Joint Light Heavyweight Championship against The Omen.

Pinhead: Two of Slush's favorite people here.

Slush: I feel the hurl coming on.

Pinhead: The Omen is already one of my favorites. I mean, he's a great wrestler, but his prophecies of Slush's demise make me all warm and tingly inside.

Slush: You're just making it worse!

Pinhead: Joy!

______________________________________________________
/_ __/ __ )_ __/ UWF/MBC JOINT LIGHT HEAVYWEIGHT
/ / / __ |/ / CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
/ / / /_/ // / BRIANNA LANDIS © versus
/_/ /_____//_/ THE OMEN
|
|____________________________________Writer: Kyle B. Lee


[Judas Priest's "Prophecy" began to play and amidst all the heavy guitar and strobe light effects we call an "entrance", out came The Omen. At his side was his girlfriend Taylor MacKenzie. And though Slush resorted to doing pelvic thrusts again, Taylor and the Omen could not see. They don't have that good of eyesight. or so I would think. By the time they reached ringside, Pinhead had tazered Slush back into his seat and all was well, at least relatively speaking. Then came Brianna Landis, strutting her stuff and holding her championship belt high for all to see. Taylor and Omen sneered but if they had their way, that belt wouldn't be around Brianna's waist for long.]

Slush: I'm going to need more barf bags.

Pinhead: Why not just leave. Remove yourself from the situation.

Slush: I can't pass up the opportunity to vomit on your shoes.

Pinhead: That's just wonderful.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Skullhead: Taylor is staying on the outside and also well away from Slush.

Slush: Soon there will be nekkid time.

Pinhead: I still doubt that's what’s really going to be going on.

[Brianna handed the belt off to the referee and coyly ran her fingers through her hair. An errant strand fell across her face and with puppy dog eyes, she gave the Omen the look. Brianna puffed out her chest and ran a finger down the Omen's shoulder, asking him "nicely" not to make her go through with the match. The Omen looked on while Taylor swallowed her anger, saving it for a time when she could get her hands around Brianna's neck. Still Brianna tried. She leaned close and whispered sweet nothings into the Omen's ear. Or perhaps, dirty nothings. We may never know. What we do know, however, is that it did not have the desired effect that Brianna wanted. The Omen took advantage of Bri being close and executed a side Russian legsweep.]

Skullhead: And just like that we've got the first pinfall attempt of the match!

One...





Two...



Kickout!

Pinhead: Brianna quickly to her feet and now on the other side of the ring. She seems shocked that her sweet talk didn't work.

Slush: Her voice is like poison! Oozing into his eardrums and eating his brain!

Pinhead: So you're cheering for the Omen then?

Slush: No! I want more brain rot!

Skullhead: It sounds like Brianna was trying to persuade the Omen out of wrestling in this match in favor of another kind of "match" later.

Slush: FOUL VISIONS! IN MY BRAIN! THE PAIN!

[As Brianna avoided the Omen, she neared Taylor and jumped when she realized that her enemy was so close. Taylor made no move to attack but she clearly enjoyed being able to may Landis jump at the mere thought. The Omen pursued with Brianna pretty much running for her life. When the Omen came close enough to get his hands on Bri, she would wrestle only so much to get away. The crowd started to boo her heavily. Sure, they were probably pretty blood thirsty but they at least wanted to see Landis put up a fight.]

Skullhead: You know, there was a lot of talk about how the Joint Championship didn't have a dignified past. And seeing this... I don't think it has a dignified future.

Slush: She's running like the Landis she is!

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: Exactly! Part chicken! Possibly part koala.

Pinhead: Koala?

Slush: Do your homework Pinhead. It explains a lot.

[Once again, the Omen got his clutches on Brianna. Brianna finally decided to put some effort into the match and defend herself. While the Omen overpowered her at times, she did remain elusive and managed to out wrestle him when it came down to brass tax. Still, Brianna did more ducking and dodging than actual wrestling. This only frustrated the fans, the Omen and the Grandmaster Typo Champion even more. The Omen, intent on capturing his prey, grabbed Brianna from behind. Going off of instinct, Brianna kicked backwards, nailing the Omen square between the legs. The crowd gave a collective moan and here, Brianna knew she had a chance.]

Skullhead: Landis starting to work the Omen over now.

Pinhead: Of course, now that he's suitably incapacitated.

Slush; Damn those Landi! They always go for the nuts!

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: Yeah, when they fight. Totally talking about when they fight.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: Well I'm sure there are other times as well.

[Brianna concentrated on keeping the Omen immobilized or at least on the mat. Taylor cheered him on but the kick to the groin was hard enough to keep him foggy for quite a while. Eventually, the Omen did start to come alive and Brianna slowly started to avoid his offense again. Brianna kept at bay often trying not to feel the full wrath but the Omen finally got his way, grabbing Brianna from behind again. Deciding to press her luck, Landis tried the rear groin kick once more but the Omen blocked and then took Brianna up and over with a belly to back suplex. Things indeed looked grim as the Omen then rolled Landis face down on the mat. His Mark of the Beast curb stomp was moments away.]

Slush: This is what she gets for kicking him in the balls!

Pinhead: So you _are_ on Omen's side?

Slush: I'm on the side of any man who gets hit like that. You just don't do that. It's not cool!

Pinhead: Hard to argue that logic.

Skullhead: Taylor looking on. I think she's actually salivating at what’s about to happen.

[Suddenly, there was a rise from the crowd. Down the aisle came the World Champion himself "Hellraiser" Tom Landis. He slid into the ring and got right into the Omen's face demanding he let Brianna go. The Omen found Landis defending his sister a little strange given the bad blood between the two. When the Omen made it clear he had no intention of stopping, Tom Landis shoved him back. The ref was lenient with this, thinking a warning would quickly get the World Champ out of the ring. But the Omen would have none of it, clotheslining Landis right to the mat. Finally the ref called for the bell as the Omen and Tom Landis started to brawl. Taylor MacKenzie quickly entered the ring to go after Brianna Landis, making it a two on two confrontation.]

Slush: I KNEW IT! THE LANDI ARE LOOKING OUT FOR EACH OTHER!

Pinhead: Not on purpose. I think Tom and Brianna have realized they're fighting on the same side.

Skullhead: And Brianna just bailed on big brother.

Pinhead: I get the feeling Tom came down out of family values more than anything.

Slush: He's a sap!

Tinkle: MEEP!

Pinhead: Brianna is making her way up the aisle leaving Tom to face the Omen and Taylor alone. Wait... the Omen is backing of! He's giving the ring to his girlfriend.

Slush: HE BETTER NOT!

Pinhead: Not that kind of... never mind...

[With Tom Landis and Taylor Mackenzie the only ones now in the ring, the crowd chanted wildly for the two to start fighting. Sure, they had a non title match on the next episode of Tuesday Bloody Tuesday but why wait? The fans wanted to see the two go at it now. They slowly started to circle but the referee got between the two, telling them that it was not a sanctioned fight. They looked at each other one more time and both mouthed to one another "Next show!"]

RING ANNOUNCER: The winner of this match by disqualification... THE OMEN!!!

Skullhead: The Omen gets the win but not the title I'm sure Brianna is fine with that.

Slush: Like all Landi, she'll get her judgment in the end... IN HELL!

Pinhead: That's a little harsh.

Slush: There's a special place in Hell for the Landi. Right next to Patrick Duffy.

Pinhead: How did Patrick Duffy get pulled into this? Why is he going to Hell?

Slush: He knows what he did.

Tinkle: ...

Slush: He'll get what he deserves Tinkle. Don't worry.

Tinkle: ...

Skullhead: Anyway... Tom Landis versus Taylor MacKenzie in non title action is scheduled for the next TBT. Should be a great match leading into SplatterNad.

Pinhead: And you know the One-Winged Angel will be watching intently.

Skullhead: Before Slush can start talking about his son again, let's go to this...

Slush: HEY!

[The sounds of restaurant chatter fade in over a muted "best of the 80's" soundtrack as we look upon a glass protected frame on dark lacquered wood-paneling walls. The frame guards an important document. It's an alcohol license, he almighty liquor permit , bestowed upon an assuredly classy establishment dubbed "the Ethereal City Bar."

We pan over the dingy pub's dispersed patrons - most of them scrubs in the process of refueling between shifts - and across a room barely lit by cheap Chinese lanterns and some Christmas lights, to find the table occupied by the beautiful Tesla St. James, and the balding William Houlder, who are drinking and chatting.]

WH: ... But she's such a good girl, so nice and friendly...

[Really? Eveline Eriksen is nice and friendly?]

TSJ: Sure.

[And Tesla didn't sound sarcastic?]

WH: ...she makes her daddy real proud, I can tell ya.

[That, we already knew...]

TSJ: I can imagine.

[The lack of sarcasm in Tesla's voice is puzzling, though.]

WH: Honestly, she might juss be the smartest girl I know!

[Couldn't say the Viking Vixen is dim, but she couldn't possibly be the brightest, could she?]

TSJ: I bet.

[And still no sarcasm?]

WH: No, I swear. She's completing her doctorate down at the University of Denver.

[Really?]

TSJ: Really?

[Yes. Exactly!]

WH: She had herself a full scholarship, and last I heard she was almost done writing her thesis.

TSJ: That's great, Mister Houlder.

[OK, who are we talking about here?]

WH: Yes it is. Wanna see a picture? I think I have one in my namesake.

TSJ: Oh, I'll take your word for... [She notices he has already retrieved the photograph that he's now handing over to her.] ... she looks lovely, Mister Houlder.

WH: That's my Penelope!

[Who?]

TSJ: She looks a little too young to be in College, though.

WH: Yeah... that photo's twelve years old, I think. Eleven, maybe. Itsh'ole. But my choices are limited since the divorce... Which is why Penny doesn't talk to me much these days...

[So... Bill Houlder has fathered Penny Houlder? "Wallet" and "Purse?" Please say it isn't so...]

TSJ: Say, Mister Houlder...

WH: Please, call me Bill! And if I'm boring you with talk of my daughter, just tell me to shuddit. Juss Shuddit Bill. That's what everyone else does.

TSJ: It's quite all right Mister... Bill. If I was going to do that, I wouldn't have bothered to come to this bar while we waited for Akeyla to have her surgery.

[Tesla takes a moment to look around at all the people in scrubs. She could be looking for a "McDreamy" or a "McSteamy", alas, there seems to be none.]

TSJ: Honestly, I've always wondered if doctors and nurses are as oversexed as TV would have you believe.

[Nope, they're not. Most of the bar's patrons would make even Will Houlder look handsome. Tesla turns back to the bar and sips on her drink.]

TSJ: Talk away Bill. I get the feeling you don't often get the chance. You certainly sound more confident without a certain blond... no offense. Besides...

[Tesla reaches into her pocket and pulls out a photo of her own.]

TSJ: It just means that I'll get to brag about my little sister next.

[Tesla flashes Bill a sincere smile, something he probably rarely sees. He coughs beer into his mug mid-sip and blushes.]

WH: A-a little shishter? Oh, that one's gonna be a heart breaker that one is. There's no doubt about the family resemblance.

[Tesla pockets her sibling's picture.]

TSJ: Thanks, I guess, Bill. I watch out for her where I can. I guess... I'm like that.

WH: 'R-aren't you the one they call "M-Mother Wolf"?

[A bit of Tesla's smile returns.]

TSJ: Aye, some do. Though, not all of it's a compliment. Some think I'm over protective.

WH: Mr. Grimshun?

TSJ: Right. _That_ rat bastard. He gets a stick up his ass because I give a damn about his knee. And he calls me an alcoholic! I know alcoholics, Bill. I'm no alcoholic. Do I look like an alcoholic?

[Bill looks at her glass. This _is_ a bar after all.]

TSJ: It's ginger ale.

WH: Oh. Yeash, ginger ale. You're drinking ginger ale? And here I was tryin' ta keep up with beer. T's'all right, they yoosh'ta call be "The Cistern" back in college. And besides, shometimes ya need ta shmooth things over with alcohol. Ah, the affairs of the heart... romanshe... love... well, I don't need to tell you, I shuppose. I'm not the one going through a break up. This time.

TSJ: I think you misunderstand. Erik and I weren't dating.

WH: You weren't.

TSJ: No, he was more like a brother to me, which somehow makes it all the more painful...

WH: You weren't dating?

TSJ: Nope. I'm totally single. Have been for too long, possibly. Not like I'm putting myself out there for somebody to sweep me up. I'd imagine I'm giving off the wrong vibe.

[She playfully winks.]

WH: I doubt that. You're a very beautiful woman.

[Instead of his trademark stutter, it seems Bill's speech is increasingly defined by a relaxed slur, now.]

WH: I mean really beautiful.

TSJ: Aww, thank you.

WH: And, and, and real nice too, you know?

TSJ: You're too kind, Bill. And turns out you're a much better man than I thought you'd be.

[Houlder nervously chuckles, then takes another sip.]

WH: Nah...

TSJ: No, really. Again, no offense, but you deserve better yourself.

WH: Aaah... Maybe when I was younger...

TSJ: Bah... Don't you know men gain charm as they age? It's like a good whiskey.

[Houlder blushes some more.]

WH: With what I have, I should conshidder myshelf lucky.

TSJ: Bull[MEEP]. For one thing, you should look for a woman who's nice to you instead.

WH: No woman has ever been nice to me, not even my eksh-wife way back then...

TSJ: I doubt that. I'm sure lots of women are really nice to you, if you took the time to notice what's right in front of you.

WH: Yer juss playin' with me now, no lady's been nice to me 'xcept... 'xshept...

[Tesla muses.]

TSJ: Hell, maybe I should take my own advice sometime...

WH: Eshep you...

TSJ: Hmm?

[The short little man's glazed eyes become as round as quarters.]

WH: _You_ bin nyshe ta me...

TSJ: Aye, but...

WH: Rye 'n frunna me...

[The man's pitiful eyes slowly close as he leans in on Tesla, lips expectantly puckering.]

TSJ: You're getting the wrong-

[As she tries to keep Bill Houlder's pudgy face as far away from her own as possible, a shadow looms over Tesla St.James. She looks up, straight into the steely blue eyes of Eveline Eriksen. How did she even find them?]

EE: Trying to steal my man, Ginger Slut? Next time you try it, make sure he doesn't leave a note explaining where he can be found.

WH: Whuh?

TSJ: No - Stop, Mister Houlder - I'm not stealing your man, I-

EE: Why do you have to try and steal another woman's property? The Swede didn't get you off? Kyle Lee ain't enough for you?

TSJ: What are you talking about. Listen here, I don't sleep with Erik Grimsson, I don't sleep with Kyle Lee, I don't sleep around period. If any one's promiscuous around here, it's _you_.

WH: Huh? Way... Iss-Iss-Snot whuddit looks like, hunnie...

EE: Are you calling me a slut, slut?

TSJ: No, I'm calling you a whore, whore. Every one knows you're only with this guy for his money.

WH: Ah-ah-ah kin essplain, Leena.

EE: Shut up and get out of the way Wallet, I've got some teeth to knock out.

TSJ: Bring it on.

[Tesla stands ready to rumble. Eveline winds up, but a hand stops her from throwing the first punch by grabbing her wrist. It belongs to Jacob Enos, accompanied by Sol Brennan, Mark Everett, Kara Tawn, James Masterson - among other Bastard Stampede wrestlers.]

Jacob Enos: Looks like you were right, Kara. She _is_ up to no good.

EE: Let me go.

JE: I'm gonna take a wild guess here, but I'll wager the MBC wouldn't like it much if you two started brawling in a public place.

EE: Mind your own business, fuglen hjerne.

JE: My friends _are_ my business.

[Eveline shoves off the big man with force, and lunges at Tesla. Yet before they can make contact, Sol Brennan catches her while James Masterson moves towards Tesla, just in case. Together, the Stampeders unite to pretty much keep the women apart, yet despite the odds, can't quite do it.]

EE: Come here, Ginger Slut! What I did to the Ruiz girl will look like nothing compared to what's in store for you!

[Somehow, the Viking Vixen manages to pick up a chair and hurl it at Tesla, who dodges the missile. The projectile hits a Everett instead.]

TSJ: Is that the best you can do? Huh?

WH: Hunnie, shtop...

[Houlder tries to help the Stampede wrestlers pacify the situation, but he drunkenly trips in his own stool as he gets up and knocks himself out cold by crashing into the bar. Fighting Enos' hold, Eriksen manages to wildly kick at the table, propelling a mug in Tesla's general direction. The mug drenches Kara Tawn instead.]

TSJ: That does it.

[Fed up, Tesla moves towards the Viking Vixen, Masterson and Everett grab her by the shoulders.]

TSJ: It's alright, guys, I've got it.

EE: I'll break you, slut!

Mark Everett: Let us deal with it, Tesla.

[Eveline low blows Brennan, which frees her up just long enough to dodge a punch Tesla threw at her before she was restrained herself. Despite their protestations, the women are definitively pulled apart, moved towards the door and out.

Enos remains behind to deal with a distressed barman. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. Rifling through it, he pulls out a large sum of cash and tosses it on the bar.]

JE: Will that cover their tab? More importantly, anything else they did?

[The bartender methodically counts the cash and nods.]

JE: Good. Then we can forget this happened. Right?

[The bartender nods in agreement.]

JE: Have a good evening.

[With the large group of Stampede wrestlers now having the two fighting women out the door, Enos leaves ensuring that peace resumes.

For now.

Now is the time William Houlder chose to regain consciousness, more or less...]

WH: Where 'devry buddy go?

Fade.]

Skullhead: Thank God those Bastard Stampeders were there. That was a disaster waiting to happen.

Pinhead: They need raises now. The last thing the MBC needed was another PR disaster.

Skullhead: St. James and Eriksen will probably get the riot act read to them regardless. And in other news, I hear that Akeyla Ruiz's surgery went fine.

Slush: I could have been a doctor.

Pinhead: Really?

Slush: I was awesome at playing "Operation." Didn't light up the clown nose once.

Pinhead: That game and being a doctor don't exactly translate.

Slush: Like your scalp and hair. OOOH! BURN!

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: That was NOT weak!

[We head to the ring. Why do we head to the ring when there is no match scheduled?

Because "The American Idol" Amber Rogers is there in the ring. How she got there, you ask... she just did. She's dressed in a red top and white pants, guitar in her hand, headset mic on her head.]

AR: Good evening... I am just so thrilled to be here in Jefferson City, home of the Arizona Cardinals!

[Mixing up the hometown and a local sports team isn't going to make Amber a favorite with the locals.]

AR: Now, I know all my Idolizers across the country were incredibly disappointed that my last performance was interrupted by a few troublemakers starting, of all things, a riot! And just when my team had everything well in hand too!

But I knew there was one thing that could cheer me up... get to work on my next hit song!

[She looks quite proud of herself.]

AR: I know you all can't wait to hear it... and in the spirit of the partnership I now have, I am dedicating this to my team... the team that holds the Psycho Driver tag team championship and will continue to proudly defend them against anyone who comes our way... all because I know what it takes to lead a team to victory!

[She tunes up her guitar, still oblivious to the boos.]

AR: Now, without further ado...

[But we never get to hear a word come out of Amber's mouth because out from the back comes Lolita Love, "Scream, if You Wanna Go Faster" playing over the speakers and the crowd cheering. Lolita is clad in a pink, tank top and jeans, completing the look with sandals. Her long, blonde hair is styled in twin pigtails, a microphone in hand. As Lolita makes her way down the aisle, she slaps hands with the fans. But, as she enters the ring, Lolita's face grows serious and she flashes Amber a frown. Amber clearly looks upset and points a finger at the Love sister, the music dying.]

AR: YOU! How dare you deny my Idolizers the chance to hear my latest song!

Lolita: If anything, I think I'm doing them a favor, Amber!

[The crowd applauds.]

Lolita: And it looks like they agree.

AR: You have done nothing but try to sabotage my career in MBC... and after my team took your team down for the Psycho Driver tag team titles, it's clear you are becoming more jealous of the success that I am having, while you and that sister of yours continue to flop!

[The fans boo in response.]

AR: You hear that? These people want to hear me perform... so Louie, why don't you just take yourself out of _my_ ring and let my Idolizers hear the new number they are dying to hear!

Lolita: I'm not going anywhere until we clear the air. First of all, these people have no interest in hearing that mess you're passing off as music. Second of all, you're really in a state of denial if you think I am the least bit jealous of some girl who can't even crack the Billboard 100. And last, but certainly not least, I have no interest in sabotaging your career. I know it pains you to hear this, but I was not the one responsible for getting you kicked out of the 2x4.

[Amber opens her mouth to respond but Lolita holds up a finger.]

Lolita: Wait. Just listen. Why would I sabotage you? Back then, I barely even knew you and was way too busy, dealing with my sister, Holly, and her shenanigans. And while it's true that I didn't appreciate the way you talked trash about Tara Smith, that's still not a reason for me to screw with your livelihood. Plus, I'm just not that type of person.

[Before Lolita Love can say another word, "Iron Man" plays over the house speakers as the crowd starts to boo heavily, well except some metalheads who are simply enjoying the song regardless of the wrestler associated with it. Ignoring the reaction of the crowd, Kiora Donavon makes her way to the ring. She is wearing a Hand of Doom t-shirt, jean shorts and loafers. As per usual she's not looking terribly amused as she slides into the ring.]

Kiora: Not that type of person? That has to be the biggest load of bull[MEEP] I've ever heard!

[The crowd boos Kiora for daring to imply that Lolita is anything but sweetness and light. Kiora simply flips them off and continues speaking despite the boos.]

Kiora: You and your sister have already screwed over more people then I can count, simply by being part of the MBC. Ever since you and your sister laid your filthy hands on the Psycho Driver championships for instance, every single male team in the MBC has not been permitted to challenge for them and who can forget that title your sister is so very proud of?

[Kiora sneers at the mention of the Women's Title, even though she didn't actually mention it. Of course since Kiora is annoyed beyond belief, that is more then enough reason to provoke cheers from the crowd. Which of course makes Kiora even -more- annoyed, though honestly she's only rarely in a decent mood to begin with.]

Kiora: The gender discrimination title. That loathsome belt that's ensured that many great women's wrestlers have been unable to challenge for the MBC World Title, until Taylor Mackenzie refused to be discriminated against. Before you and your sister arrived, the MBC had complete sexual equality. Your sister destroyed that.

[There is a loud BULL[MEEP] chant from the crowd.]

Kiora: That's her legacy in the MBC, and yours. You're not that kind of person Lolita? From what I see, that's exactly the type of person you are!

Voice: Oh, quit your [meep]in', you [Meep]!

[All eyes turn to the entrance ramp, where Leanna Love stands, microphone in hand. She's clad in a white, tank top and green sweats, her long, blonde hair falling down her back and a less than enthused expression on her face. She makes her way down the aisle, oblivious to the outstretched hands of the fans.]

Leanna: Ever since you arrived here, you've had issues with the women's title. You claim that my decision closed the door on women?

[Leanna scoffs.]

Leanna: If anything, I helped open more doors for them and gave them another way to reach success in the MBC, since it created another title for them to contend for.

[She reaches the ring and makes her way up the stairs, sliding through the top and middle ropes.]

Leanna: And as far as the world title goes, well, you ever stop to think that maybe some women just didn't want to fight for it? After all, last time I checked, there were no restrictions on _any_ title, something that Taylor McKenzie and Satin Sheets before her have done well to prove.

[She joins her sister and glares at Kiora.]

Leanna: But I'm not here to talk about ancient history. I'm here to challenge you to a match. Me and you, Kiora. One on one. No more games, friends, or allies. So, what do you say? You got the heart to back up that lunacy?

[Kiora glares right back at Leanna, showing no fear what so ever.]

Kiora: I've never hidden from anybody in my life and I'm certainly not going to hide from a sad, pathetic delusional little [MEEP] like you. You can call me names all you want Leanna but it's not going to change
the fact that you've been [MEEP]ing all over the traditions of the MBC and the women who wrestle in it, ever since you brought that gender discrimination title into existence. Not that you care about any of that, after all I know this isn't about helping your fellow wrestlers at all. This is just about Leanna Love feeding her own ego. As for the World Title....

[Despite the abuse the fans are hurling at Kiora, she doesn't seem to be bothered at all. Indeed, she seems to revel in the fans' ire as she smirks disdainfully at Leanna Love.]

Kiora: Yeah I'd considered that some women might not want to fight for it but to the best of my knowledge, aside from you and Slush the MBC doesn't employ the mentally retarded.

[Thunderous boos from the audience for the insult to Leanna, to say nothing of the strenuous objections from Slush due to the insult to himself. The only people in the arena who don't seem upset are Skullhead and Pinhead, who of course always enjoy a good insult to Slush.]

Leanna: You're the one with the mental issues if you can't see that the only person holding anyone back is them. Kyle Lee has made the MBC a place where anyone can succeed, regardless of gender. If people refuse to take advantage of that, then it's their loss and they should take responsibility. But instead, you want to sit here and whine about how I and everyone else here have held you down, when you can't face what's staring you in the face. Maybe it's not your gender that's holding you down but the fact that you're just not good enough.

[Leanna grins as the crowd cheers the insult.]

Leanna: Then again, you're more than welcome to try to prove me wrong at SplatterNad.

[Kiora simply arches an eyebrow at Leanna's response, unfazed by the insult.]

Kiora: You've had a whole year to prepare and that's the best you could come up with? Parroting my argument and throwing in a couple of grade school insults? I'd at least thought you capable of comprehending my actual argument, but I see basic intelligence was too much to hope for from you Leanna.

[At this point Kiora laughs in Leanna's face. Not a big belly laugh but a derisive disdainful laugh, as condescending as humanly possible.]

Kiora: What's next Leanna, are you going to incessantly repeat every sentence I utter? Still, if you wish to be torn apart at SplatterNad I'm more then happy to oblige you.

[The fans cheer as the match is set, but the cheers quickly turn to boos as Kiora punches Leanna in the face. Leanna's head whips back and she then turns to face Kiora with a grin.]

Leanna: [Meep], I've got no problem starting now.

[With that, Leanna lunges at Kiora and spears her to the mat. The two begin to tussle, exchanging rights and lefts. Lolita goes to intervene, when Amber, who has set her guitar aside, suddenly jumps in her way.]

Lolita: [flashing an annoyed frown] What are you doing? We need to stop this.

AR: Just like you needed to take _my_ spot from me in the 2x4 tournament! All I have to do is put two and two together and know full well the only reason you would take _my_ spot is because you wanted to in the first place!

Lolita: What? Haven't you been paying any attention? I didn't...

AR: You can save your little lies for somebody else. The way I see it, if your big sis wants a piece of _my_ partner, then I want a piece of you... not just at SplatterNad, but right now!

[And with that, Amber then leaps forward with a spear tackle, catching Lolita off guard, and then raining down blows. But Lolita is quick to respond with a few blows, and now the two of them are brawling as well, while Leanna and Kiora are still continuing their tussle. The Wrecking Crew, apparently having figured out they are needed on the scene, is now heading down the aisle.]

Skullhead: We've got a wild scene here at ringside and of course the Wrecking Crew is trying to get a handle on it.

Slush: I like how they're so reactive. Always show up after the trouble starts.

Pinhead: It's kind of a reactionary thing. If you wanted to be proactive then you'd need a lot more of the Wrecking Crew around here.

Slush: Maybe if there were more of them, I'd be less inclined to slap you.

Pinhead: Try it and you won't get your hand back.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: I don't know what that is.

Skullhead: Out of all this craziness, it appears we have two more matches for SplatterNad. Kiora Donavon takes on Leanna Love and Amber Rogers goes one on one with Lolita Love.

Pinhead: Both a long time coming.

Slush: God the glare on your head is blinding!

[We cut from the Unholy Three and Three-Eighths to travel somewhere else in the arena as is always the case. There's always just the arena and backstage most times. So yes, we are backstage. And surprise, there are wrestlers. Here we find the woman who simply oozes sex "Superfly" Susan Davis.

I would say she's an orgasm on legs, however, somebody already laid claim to that gimmick. In fact, Susan Davis beat said woman to win the UWF Women's Championship several years back. But I digress; we're in the MBC now.

And Susan is standing by MBC Owner and President Kyle Lee, who doesn't seem to be in the brightest of moods. He's looking over what appears to be a contract.]

KL: You can't be serious about this Susan. This is career suicide and you know it.

SSD: Yes, I do know that. But it's going to be the only way to get Kathryn to leave me alone.

KL: This is your solution? There's got to be other avenues to take.

SSD: I've already thought it over.

KL: There won't be any coming back from this if you lose.

SSD: You think I'll lose?

KL: I think you're very capable of winning this sort of match Susan. But let's be honest. Kathryn has two things on her side that tell me she's going to cheat her ass off to win. One, she a member of the Hand of Doom. And two, just look at the rest of her family.

SSD: Sure. But I'm willing to take that risk.

[Lee obviously doesn't like what he sees on the contract. But Susan seems dead set on whatever it is. Finally, Lee hands it back over.]

KL: I hope you know what you're doing Susan.

Voice: Dude, okay, so she gets to take risks, but I don't? How does that work?

[Limping into view is Erik Grimsson. Dressed in a pair of ripped and faded blue jeans, a black "Sacred Reich- Surf Nicaragua" long sleeve t-shirt, black Nike amateur wrestling shoes, and a large brace on his left knee, Erik stands next to Susan, folding his arms across his chest and waiting for an answer. His tone, although inquisitive, also has bit of provocation to it.]

KL: Well, see her risks don't involve copious amounts of surgery, pain management and therapy. Besides, you signed the waiver and were cleared to wrestle.

[Lee remains calm despite the provocation. But he does a bit of needling himself.]

KL: You just decided to not show up.

[Erik's chuckles a bit at this.]

Erik: Well, it's like, it's not that I so much didn't decide to show up. You see, the day was so perfect, I decided I wanted to spend it with my girlfriend. Especially since she just recently became unemployed.

KL: That's funny. I thought you joined the MBC to wrestle, not have picnics.

[Erik's eyes now narrow as he glares at Kyle.]

Erik: Well, let's just say you totally made this call real easy when you made that decision to keep me off the show in my hometown. So I'm sorry if I wasn't exactly with it to tow the company line in Kansas City.

[Calm as can be, Kyle responds.]

KL: It was an easy call to make considering you're walking on ground up bone and hamburger. And I'll be honest, I've got all kinds of people here not wanting to "tow the company" line.

[Susan watches silently in the background, not really seeing an easy way to walk out of this scene.]

KL: But they don't walk away from a fight nor do they give a big middle finger to the fans.

[Erik is clearly annoyed by this comment.]

Erik: Oh, go sit on it, Lee. Crimson, Vengeance, and Hotbody would have done what I did the first chance they got, just to screw with you. Problem is they don't have the balls to do it. As far as giving the finger to the fans, well, I guess one good turn deserves another, since you did it to the fans in my hometown when you kept me off the show. So save me the holier than thou garbage.

[Lee can't help but smile.]

KL: Crimson would have been more creative. Vengeance is too delusional and Holly is too self absorbed to allow herself to miss any face time. Hell, just earlier tonight, I had the One-Winged Angel threaten to show up _more_ to tick me off. But you're right, people will remember the guy who walked away the same night a bounty was placed on his head more than the time he didn't have a match in his hometown.

I'm not holier than anybody Erik. But I'm not the one calling himself a hero.

[Erik laughs at this comment.]

Erik: And it's totally a good thing you don't, Kyle. Because while I'll give you that you're way smarter than me, that word is something you wouldn't know anything about.

[Erik's eyes now light up.]

Erik: And dude, what's this stuff about a bounty?

KL: Now see, these are the things you miss when you decide to make political statements.

[Lee's smirk only seems to grow.]

KL: I'll leave you to discover what it's all about, Erik. Now that people know you're here, I'm sure it won't be long till the wolves come looking for you.

[Erik shrugs as if to say "big deal"]

Erik: Well, I guess if that's the case, maybe I'll do some looking around on my own. I mean I totally owe Crimson and the Problem Solvers trips to the woodshed, after all.

[Lee looks at Susan, who is doing her best to stay out of things. Lee has ideas brewing in the back of his head and well, Susan knows that look well. Erik doesn't see it but Susan is shaking her head "No!"]

KL: Provided you show up, I can give you the chance. Both you and Susan here want a piece of the Hand of Doom pretty badly so on the next TBT, I'll put you two in a match against Crimson and Kathryn Elyson.

[Unbeknownst to Erik, Susan looks at his knee and rolls her eyes.]

KL: And then at SplatterNad you can take on Crimson one on one.

[Erik sighs, then nods his head.]

Erik: I guess that's fine. But I guess I don't understand what Susan did to piss you off to have you throw her into this situation. I mean, she could get hurt in this match.

[Suddenly agitated herself with Erik, Susan steps between the two men and looks Grimsson right in the eye.]

SSD: You know, if you actually paid attention to me, you'd know I'm trying to get Elyson off my back! Show up, don't show up. I don't care! I'll be there to fight!

[Susan starts to poke Erik in the chest.]

SSD: I'm tougher than _you_ think.

[With that, Susan storms off. Lee looks amused. Erik himself looks a bit perplexed.]

Erik: What the [MEEP] got into her? And what the [MEEP] are you laughing at, man?

KL: I'm not laughing. It's... overall amusement.

[But the amused smile fades.]

KL: This is just a suggestion Erik, but you probably want to find out what's going on in your world. The bounty... Susan... would do you a lot of good. But hey, don't listen if you don't want to. I don't care about that. But what I do care about is you showing up for your matches. If that's not something you feel like doing, well...

[Lee points to a nearby exit.]

KL: It's like I told One-Winged Angel earlier tonight, feel free to walk out the door into the wilderness.

[Erik now chuckles a bit.]

Erik: You can [MEEP]can me any time you like, Lee. But until that time, I'm so going to do what I damn well please.

[Erik turns and heads on his way.]

KL: Yeah, we'll see how well that works out for you tiny rebel. Try not to get tasered by psycho's looking for a part and a bounty.

[And then Lee leaves himself. Fade.]

Pinhead: Just what does Susan Davis got cooking?

Skullhead: And why is Erik Grimsson so defiant?

Slush: These are the days of our lives.

Pinhead: I would have thought the President would have given Erik a stiffer punishment.

Skullhead: However, he did put him in two separate matches against the Hand of Doom. He's feeding Erik to the lions. Or sharks. Whichever term you prefer.

Pinhead: He's probably lucky he didn't get fired.

Slush: He's lucky that Bear Shaft isn't looking to claim the bounty... or is he?

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: No, I don't think it's beyond the realm of possibility that Bear Shaft could be a bounty hunter.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: But why would you call him Boba Shaft?

Pinhead: I do find it strange that Erik is clueless about the bounty. I mean he got attacked earlier tonight by somebody looking to get the money.

Skullhead: Before we move on to the main event, I am told that Tawni Northern is standing by with the defending SBC Champion, Jerry Titus.

[Cut to backstage where we find Tawni Northern standing next to the Smash Bash Crucify champion Jerry "Pure Power" Titus. He is already dressed in his wrestling attire and the title belt is slung over his shoulder.]

TN: Jerry Titus, tonight you will be facing Stan Crawford in the sixth match of the Death Cycle... this one involves seven tables scattered around ringside, all of them gimmicked, and you have to put your opponent through four of the seven tables in order to gain victory. What are your thoughts about this match tonight?

JT: Tawni, all I can say is they just keep coming up with more insane matches each time Crawford and I face off.

TN: I believe the term you would be looking for is "more bastardly" rather than "more insane."

JT: [slight smile] Yes, that would be the case... I just haven't entirely wrapped my head around that term. I don't consider myself to be a bastard per se... just somebody looking to make his mark.

TN: So what are you expecting from tonight's match?

JT: Well, the obvious expectation is that I expect to win... especially since I can wrap up the series with a win tonight and retain the SBC title in the process. When Crawford regained the title from me, he did everything he could to ensure he didn't lose it back to me. I'm not going to take the chance of losing the strap back to him, because I know he'll be fighting me that much harder should he end up regaining it and this goes to a seventh match.

TN: But I take it you believe you can pull off the win tonight?

JT: Of course... now that I know what I'm getting myself into, now that I've grown from each match I've had here in the MBC, I feel that much more confident in what I can do in that ring. And regardless of the stips of tonight's match or any other match I have down the road, you can bet I'm going to give it my all and prove to the entire MBC that I deserve to be mentioned among the best wrestlers in this place.

TN: One other question... the current MBC World champion, Tom Landis, has been keeping a close eye on you and seems to have been a bit impatient waiting for you to cash in that title shot you earned.

JT: Tawni, Tom knows very well that I have this Death Cycle to finish. No disrespect meant to him, but while a World title shot is certainly nice, I can't let it be a distraction. I need to focus my attentions on Crawford tonight... but rest assured, when this Death Cycle is finished, I will be looking for Landis or whoever it is that happens to hold the World title.

[He walks off as the shot fades out.]

Skullhead: So this may be it, coming up in moments the sixth installment of the Death Cycle. And given the shape Stan Crawford is in, we very
likely may not get to stage seven.

Slush: Box him up and ship him out, like so much spoiled, reduced to clear luncheon meat before him.

Skullhead: Your childhood was very sad, wasn't it?

Slush: It's like papa always used to say, if it doesn't burn your throat, it's worth it.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: I doubt they were relatives of yours.

Pinhead: It's no secret Stan Crawford is in rough shape through five matches in the Death Cycle, and "Pure Power" Jerry Titus is in the lead three matches to two. Youth can often be more important than experience.

Skullhead: Jerry Titus has certainly grown these last several months of the Death Cycle. And there are few better to learn from than Stan Crawford.

Slush: I'm starting to wonder if Stan Crawford is in fact immortal.

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: You're right. A good Highlander doesn't use a shotgun.

Pinhead: Whatever you want to call him, you can't deny that Stan Crawford is one of the toughest men to ever step into a MBC ring. And the fact that Jerry Titus is going to toe to toe with him and keeping up... well that just says a lot about Titus.

Skullhead: The first match they had was normal. The second was first blood. The third was Falls Count Anywhere with the fourth being a classic Froinlaven Death match. And match five was one of the best ladder matches in the history of the MBC.

Pinhead: And tonight, we get tables. All with their own special... something.

Skullhead: Should we say a prayer for our safety?

Slush: God won't grant my wish to have Tom Landis swallowed by a whale. I doubt he'll listen to you.

Pinhead: Let's pray anyways.

Skullhead: Tonight's match is the aptly named Seven Tables Of Overly Gruesome Effects, as you can see by the various tables set up around ringside here.

Pinhead: There's more wood out here than Holly Hotbody's last bikini party.

______________________________________________________
/_ __/ __ )_ __/ DEATH CYCLE VI FOR THE SBC TITLE
/ / / __ |/ / SEVEN TABLES OF OVERLY GRUESOME EFFECTS
/ / / /_/ // / JERRY "PURE POWER" TITUS © versus
/_/ /_____//_/ "THE SHOTGUN" STAN CRAWFORD
|
|_____________________________________Writer: Mike Beeby


[Jerry Titus came out to the ring first with the swagger of someone up 3 falls to 2 in a Death Cycle. Granted, that's a fairly specific level of
swagger, but nevertheless Jerry achieved it. His opponent, "The Shotgun" Stan Crawford, dragged himself through the curtains and down the aisle,
clearly the worse for wear after the five previous matches. Titus didn't even wait for Stan to enter the ring, catching him with a shoulderblock
that propelled the former champion off the apron to the floor. As the bell rang, Jerry exited the ring and immediately tried to send Crawford towards the first table.]

Skullhead: Don't expect to see too much wrestling inside the ring for this one, the point of the match is simple. Put the other guy through
more tables than he puts you through.

[Titus struck Crawford with a lariat and other shots to keep him offbalance as the action proceeded close to the table marked with the big
number 1 near it. The camera got a good shot of the distinguishing feature for this one... dozens of mousetraps laying across the top as
Jerry dragged Stan over and set up for a powerbomb. A backdrop on the champion saved the Shotgun, and in a moment of sadism he smashed Jerry's
face into the first table causing one of the mousetraps to snap shut on Titus' ear! The crowd cringing at the sight of Titus with it hanging
from his ear, the SBC Champion suddenly grabbed Stan and used a choke toss to fling him up and through the first table with a loud CRACK!
followed by several nasty SNAPS!]

Pinhead: Titus strikes first!

Skullhead: Just like we thought, this may be the shortest match of the death cycle with Crawford's condition.

[Crawford sat up flailing in pain, as several mousetraps took hold on him as a result. Titus pulled him up and ripped one of them off Stan's eyebrow, and hooked him quickly for a DDT on the floor. He then rolled Crawford into the ring, where Stan eventually removed the other mousetraps as Titus dragged the second table closer to ringside.]

Pinhead: Hey, where are you going?

Slush: Check out table number five, Pinsy. Blackjack!

Skullhead: It never ceases to amaze me that a nomadic company having trouble paying the bills can go all out with a display like that. Wait, does that table even have its own blackjack dealer?

[With Stan now sporting several visible welts thanks to the first table, he was easy pickings as Titus slammed Crawford into the corner and tried
to set him up for a belly-to-belly suplex, but the veteran Stan got a hand in his face and blasted Jerry Titus with a series of straight punches to the skull instead. Falling through the ropes brought them to the second table, littered with what appeared to be silver metallic
shards. A shot to the throat staggered Titus as Stan picked up a couple of the objects, holding them to the camera.]

Skullhead: Well those are clearly pieces of compact discs, but I don't understand why they're broken. Wait, I can make out a label. I see an
"Am" and a "Rog"... oh, now I get it.

[Crawford hoisted Titus up and tried to suplex him through the waiting table, but at the last second the SBC Champion broke his grasp and flung
Stan ribcage first into the near ringpost. Jerry caught his opponent in a bearhug and started to squeeze the life out of him, but the chunk of CD
Stan hand in his hand worked well to release the hold, especially as he dug the tip of it into Jerry's skull. Instantly a stream of blood began to flow down his face, and as Titus worked to keep it out of his eyes Stan swiped hard again with the sharpened edges.]

Skullhead: I'm not sure what does more damage, being cut up by her CDs or having to listen to them?




...




And it appears that I've lost my co-hosts to the Blackjack table on the other side of the ring. Is the company liable for knocking Pinhead off
the gambling wagon?

Slush: [from the other side] HIT ME, BITCH!

Skullhead: Jesus, we may have another riot on our hands.

Tinkle: MEEP?

Skullhead: No you can't go join them.

[Partially blinded from the cuts from the Amber Rogers CDs, Titus staggered into Crawford's grasp and a short-arm clothesline pushed him dangerously close to the table. Crawford grabbed a nearby chair and smashed him in the face, knocking Titus across the table. The broken CD pieces dug into his back as Jerry let out a painful scream, but in the time it took Stan to climb to the ring apron and jump off it let him recover enough to roll off. And as the crowd screamed, Crawford crashed through the second table stomach-first!]

Skullhead: And the rookie has taken a huge lead here, two tables to none!

Pinhead: I said I want to split a pair! What don't you understand?!?

Blackjack Dealer: Sir, you're at twenty-three.

Pinhead: No, I'm at ten and thirteen! Hit me!

[As Pinhead grabbed one of the CD fragments and holds it up to the blackjack dealer's throat, Crawford staggered towards the third table, his chest dotted now with various cuts and scrapes from the CD table. Not moving all that quickly, Crawford was caught by Titus who again trapped him in a bearhug as he tried to crush the wind out of him.]

Skullhead: I'm surprised to see any semblance of wrestling at all here, this match is as brutally simplistic as they come.

[Titus released Crawford and threw him towards two more tables, around the corner of the ring towards the entrance aisle. One was covered by a red and white checkered tablecloth and several plates of pancakes, complete with fixins. The other was covered from end to end with plates, stuffed animals and several boxes, plus a rather large sign with the words "All Prices Negotiable".]

Skullhead: Okay, now I've seen everything. In addition to a blackjack table it seems we've got a yard sale and a pancake breakfast going on now. I hope whoever thought this concept up burns in hell.

[As Stan collapsed against the edge of the pancake breakfast table, Titus grabbed a piggybank from the yard sale table and broke it across the side
of his face, leaving the hardcore legend severely dazed. As Jerry tried to lift him up and spinebuster Crawford through the breakfast table, Stan
reached behind and grabbed a bottle of maple syrup and blasted his opponent in the face. Unorthodox though it may be, the sticky substance
mixed with the blood on Jerry's face and blinded the SBC Champion, actually turning the tide as Crawford drove him spinefirst back into the ring apron. The pair brawled over control of the syrup bottle, as Titus climbed up onto the apron and finally tossed it far into the crowd.

A knee to the face stunned Crawford as the Texan pulled him up onto the apron and set him up for a belly-to-belly suplex, but Crawford hung onto
the top rope and blocked his momentum. Jerry delivered a headbutt to weaken Stan again, but a second time he prevented a suplex with a strong
grasp of the ropes. A quick knee to the stomach allowed the former multiple time champion the opening he needed however as ...]

Skullhead: REVERSAL- 12 GAUGE! 12 GAUGE OFF OF THE APRON!



[CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!



And the crowd roars at the sight of the flat-topped rookie sailing off the apron and through both tables in front of him! From the waist up Jerry landed across the pancake breakfast table, but the waist down suffered a much worse landing as the junk piled on the yard sale table breaks his fall. Jerry's initial landing knocks him nearly unconscious, as his foe struggled likewise to sit up, having missed the tables entirely but still landing hard on the floor.]

Skullhead: The match is tied up at two tables apiece! We're headed to a best two of three finish, but at this rate can either Crawford or Titus even muster up the strength to break two more tables?

Slush: [from across the floor] When do the hookers stop by, before or after I win?

[The writhing in pain rookie slowly got back to his feet as Stan prepared to level him with a ceramic lamp from what's left of the yard sale table,
but again the SBC Champion cut him off and tackled him to the ground. They began to brawl around ringside with whatever wasn't nailed down, and
slowly they began to approach the Blackjack table, aka table number 5 in this contest. Blissfully unaware was Slush, in the midst of a hot streak
as Pinhead buried his head in his hands.]

Slush: Yes! C'mon, Uncle Slush needs his rent money back!

[The dutiful blackjack dealer tried to step in between the two wrestlers and his workstation, but it was all for naught as Titus missed hitting the Shotgun with a clothesline but took out the dealer instead, knocking him into Pinhead and sending both to the floor. Slush turned around just in time to see the carnage, grabbed as large a handful of poker chips as he could and fled the scene. If one was eagle-eyed enough, you could see him give Pinhead a slight kick to the ribs on his way by. Crawford meanwhile scooped Titus up and went to slam him through the table, but Jerry countered with a bulldog-style takedown on the floor. Both men tried to get up, with Titus once again maintaining advantage.]

Slush: Ah, poker is the true sport of kings. Now where can I cash these badboys in?

Skullhead: Is gambling even legal in this state? Here comes our fellow broadcaster now, and oh yeah... _THERE'S A MATCH STILL GOING ON_.

[Titus attempted to trap Crawford's head in between the ringsteps and the post, but when he then tried kicking the steps Stan escaped and hit a low
blow on his nemesis. As Titus sank to his knees Stan locked on a facelock and dragged him back over to the remains of the yard sale, looking to suplex him onto the junk once more. A shot to the throat from Titus ended the threat, as both men collapsed in a heap just shy of the wreckage.]

Pinhead: [still gasping for air] You stole my chips!

Slush: You'd just lose them again.

Skullhead: You're both idiots, don't you know those games are rigged?

Tinkle: MEEP!

Slush: What's powerful?

Skullhead: PURELY POWERFUL! THROUGH THE BLACKJACK TABLE! Where on earth did Jerry Titus come up with the power to do that?

[Cards and what remaining unstolen poker chips were left flew into the air as Stan Crawford was powerbombed through the blackjack table. Smaller and less impressive than the previous tables, it nonetheless left Crawford sprawled on the floor as Titus staggered around, trying to figure out what the score was.]

Skullhead: Three to two, Jerry Titus only needs to break one more table with his opponent to win this match and the Death Cycle itself!

Slush: Well regardless of who wins I think this match has been a success. A profitable success.

Pinhead: I want my money!

Slush: So does the IRS, what makes you think you have a shot in hell?!?

[Stan slowly picked himself up, absorbing more blows from Titus and a running knee to the face. The Shotgun blocked another bearhug attempt and lifted Titus off his feet with a backbreaker, driving Jerry's spine into his bent knee. The wind is knocked out of Titus as he rolls onto his hands and knees gasping for air, Stan using the edge of the ring to support himself. Several more kicks to the side of the head rocked the champion, but eventually he sprang up and surprised Stan by countering the 12 Gauge and setting up for a lariat.

And Stan ducked the lariat, picked Titus up and sent him backwards to hell, dropping Titus through the nearest table with the backdrop suplex
anyways! CRAAAAAAAAAAAASH!]

Skullhead: Another 12 Gauge!

Slush: THAT WAS THE ANNOUNCE TABLE, YOU BIG IDIOT!

Pinhead: We should probably check the rules, but I don't think that one counts.

[Crawford immediately pulled Titus from the wreckage of the announce table, blitzing the ribcage with punches before a boot to the face flattened Jerry and caused him to crumple to the ground. The final two tables stood before them... one appearing to be a normal table, but the other featuring a shiny, thicker than usual surface.]

Pinhead: Sweet zombie jesus, is that ice?

Slush: You're drunk.

Pinhead: That's definitely ice on top of that table!

Slush: Stop changing the subject.

Skullhead: If you're right and that table is covered in ice, that's going to take a hell of a lot of force to break. We're stuck at a count of
Jerry Titus up three tables to two, just like he's up in the overall series.

[Like previously in the match, both men rose to their feet to begin the battle anew, firing punches and trying to gain the advantage. A knee from Crawford doubled Titus up, but even after attempting a piledriver on the floor the rookie proved he had fight left in him and scored a backbreaker of his own. His ribs still giving him trouble, Titus swallowed hard when he flung Stan onto the table covered in ice, but a standing splash couldn't break the table. Titus continued to try and put Crawford through the table with repeated blows, but the extreme cold served to wake the New York native up and a hard shot across the jaw to his foe gave Crawford a chance.]

Pinhead: This could go on a while, that ice doesn't look any closer to breaking.

Skullhead: Ah, screw it.

[As Crawford swung Titus into the dasher boards, Skullhead stepped past them and proceeded to chip a few small pieces of ice off of the table into a highball glass. Returning to the table, he poured himself a scotch.]

Slush: Hey, where'd you get the icepick?

Skullhead: They were selling it at the yard sale table. I bought it for a buck.

[Hoisting Titus up across his shoulder, Stan dumped him onto the ice table with a death valley driver and a dull thud. A small crack began to
form in the ice from the impact, but not enough to break it. Stan continued to hammer Jerry with repeated elbows to the head and grabbed his steel chair, but the SBC Champion rolled clear of a homerun swing, as the icetop finally split right in two. The table in between them they fought over control of the chair and after a few seconds it was Titus who grabbed it away from his older opponent, but raising it over his head left himself open to Crawford shooting half of the iceblock into Jerry's exposed midsection!]

Slush: Oh bitch! That's cold.

Skullhead: Crawford with the veteran move, smashes Titus headfirst into the table again!

[CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

And a modified DDT evened the match up, to thunderous applause!]

Skullhead: We're tied up at three tables! Whoever breaks the final table with their opponent will win this match, and if Jerry Titus pulls it out
he'll win the Death Cycle proper.

Pinhead: I still don't see what's so special about the last table.

[As half the crowd chanted for the Shotgun and the other half clearly on the side of "Pure Power" Jerry Titus, the weary veteran Crawford rolled
into the ring to muster up what was left of his strength. Likewise Jerry rolled onto his back, breathing hard as he pushed the large block of ice
off of his stomach. When the two brawlers were back on their feet, Stan dared the rookie to step into the ring. But only after Titus grabbed the
final table and folded the legs up to slide it into the ring did he oblige. The crowd reached a defeaning crescendo as Titus joined Crawford.]

Skullhead: Well this is unexpected, barely any of the match has taken place inside the ring but now with the final table in play they decide to
step between the ropes?

[Charging at Titus, Crawford delivered a wicked lariat that almost took the champion over the ropes to the floor. But Titus held on and remained
in the ring as Stan propped the last table up in the corner, then sniffed at it with a bewildered look on his face. Then as realization set in, he
left himself open to a football tackle from Titus. A series of shoulders in the midsection softened Stan up and allowed the rookie to set Stan up
on the top rope in seated position. But when he tried to hit Crawford with a press slam Jerry was thwarted by several hard shots to the head.
The Shotgun slammed Titus down instead, and rolled out of the ring to dig through the broken wreckage from the yard sale table.

Eventually he pulled out a small object and returned to the ring. Titus greeted him with some lefts and rights, but a hard kneelift bought Stan
some time. He held the object up and the crowd began to roar at the sight of a small Bic lighter.

WHOOOOSH.]

Skullhead: [MEEP] ME! THAT TABLE'S ON FIRE! And the way it caught fire like that it must have been soaked in lighter fluid for hours!

Slush: Anyone for s'mores?

Pinhead: I'll take one.

Slush: Twenty bucks.

Pinhead: That's outrageous!

Slush: Take it or leave it, addict!

Pinhead: You already took my money from the blackjack table!

Slush: Tell someone who cares!

Skullhead: Where'd I put that icepick?

[The flames singed Jerry's back as he got a little too close, and Stan nailed a quick uppercut that rocked his foe, doubled him up and tried to
throw him into the flaming table. Titus put the breaks on and after raking the scratches and cuts on Stan's chest, tried to pick him up for a
gorilla press. But with the conditions of both men, it was a failed attempt right away and both men toppled over.]

Pinhead: These two are both exhausted, and in the meantime the table keeps on burning. What happens if it turns to ashes before either guy
gets put through?

Skullhead: I'm not all that familiar with the official rules, but I'd think they'd just bring out another table.

[Amidst the roaring crowd, it was the Shotgun who got to his feet first. Just maintaining his balance seemed like an effort on Stan's part, as
Titus crawled to the far corner. Sensing that it was now or never, the second generation superstar suddenly bolted from the corner, attempting
to use another football tackle to send Stan Crawford to hell.

But Stan saw his foe coming at him and with one final desperate act, ducked his head down and turned the oncoming charge into a high
backdrop...













And Titus came crashing down across the flames, breaking the final table in the corner!]

RING ANNOUNCER: The winner of this match... AND NEEEEEEEW SMASH BASH CRUCIFY CHAMPION... "THE SHOTGUN" STAN CRAWFORD!!!

[As the ringside technicians go to work putting out Titus with fire extinguishers, a totally spent Stan Crawford collapses in the corner against the turnbuckles, glassy-eyed. The referee hands him the title belt and raises Stan's hand. As soon as the official releases it, the limb falls limply to the side.]

Skullhead: Crawford's done it! He's evened up the Death Cycle and as an added bonus has won the SBC Title for a record-breaking fifth time!

Pinhead: These five SBC titles put Stan Crawford past Team Canada's four Team Bastard titles and Tara Marshall's four women's championships!

Slush: Looks like it's a posthumous win to me.

Skullhead: Ladies and gentlemen, we are out of time.

Pinhead: You won't be with us next episode right?

Skullhead: Correct. I'm heading to Styx, Wyoming to help get things setup.

Slush: I don't envy you.

Skullhead: Didn't think you ever would.

Pinhead: Well safe travels.

Skullhead: Until next time folks, I'm Skullhead signing off.

[Fade to sweet merciful black.]

I can't decide.
Is publishing/reading MBC on a 4rth of July patriotic or unamerican?
:dontknow:

It's Bastardly. :D

Quiet, Canadian.