[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.]
[Johanna puts her foot on Harley's chest and looks around. Almost timidly, one of the pit bosses drops and counts it out.
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.
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!
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 Iím not involved in a reality TV show right now. I am, arenít I? I mean, Iíve 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 Grilliní Beans: Burbon and Brown Sugar http://tinyurl.com/4f6a9o
hurls the can straight into Jed/Kirkís head]
Hardi: Cleanup on aisle ... wait, thatís 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 thatís just horrible.
[Hardi grabs some Newmanís Own Pineapple salsahttp://tinyurl.com/mbvbzd]
Hardi: Why donít we head down where cleaning supplies are? Iím 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: 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. Whatís up? I got jumped by someone whoís looking for a job in the MBC. In the grocery store. No, I donít think they want to be a roadie. Look, I know weíre short on roadies but heís been dressing in a bunch of costumes and does a pretty mean Walken impersonation. Iím not going to ask him if he wants to do a roadie impersonation. No. NO. Dammit no! Ok. Iíll 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. Youíre hired.
[looking at the camera guy]
Hardi: You can just play that back for him when he wakes up, right? Iíve 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.
Slush: Right. The impersonator dude.
Slush: If we're going to hire anybody to replace the B.O.B. guys, then shouldnít 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.
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 protťgť.]
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.
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.
[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.
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...
[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.]
[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!
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.
Slush: I don't think bears eat hamster.
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.
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 itís 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?]
[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.]
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...
...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 suddenly jumps up and thrusts his arms in the air.]
Slush: I'm gonna have me some NEKKID TIME with Taylor!
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...
Skullhead: Trust me on this.
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!
/_ __/ __ )_ __/ 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.
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 whatís 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!
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!
Slush: Exactly! Part chicken! Possibly part 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!
Slush: Yeah, when they fight. Totally talking about when they fight.
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 whatís 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!
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.
Slush: He'll get what he deserves Tinkle. Don't worry.
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...
[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?]
[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.
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!
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.]
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...
TSJ: Hell, maybe I should take my own advice sometime...
WH: Eshep you...
[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.
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.
Now is the time William Houlder chose to regain consciousness, more or less...]
WH: Where 'devry buddy go?
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.
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!
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: 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.
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!