New Year's Evil III PPV

[mooseheadjack]

<We cut to GM the Rick's office where he is sitting behind his desk.>

GMtR: At last month's pay per view, Firewoman, Canadian Dragon, Knife and the Defenestrators all earned title shots. Up until this point no one knew for sure what title they were getting a shot at, though I am sure they had a pretty good guess. Well as of right now, they, along with everyone else will know

OOWF New Years Evil III PPV
Live! From Makakilo City, Hawaii

OOWF World Heavyweight Title Match
Stank vs. Canadian Dragon

OOWF Intercontinental Title Match[/u]
Donovan Viper vs. Knife

OOWF World Tag Team Title Match[/u]
Los Defenestrators vs. Defenestrators

OOWF Onslaught Championship Match[/u]
Davin Moreland vs. Firewoman

Barbed Wire Fence, Taipei Death Match[/u]
Moosehead Jack vs. Concrete TG

Steel Cage Match[/u]
Team RabbxtFire vs. Dead Drunk vs. The Nerves Agent & Blitz

Alexander Darling makes his OOWF Debut
Phantos & Lucios vs. DH Magnusson & Spin Hansen
F. Fonzworth MacCappington III & Firechild vs. The BFF
Chris Cole vs. JW Westgaard
Outback Jack vs. Eric O'Mac vs. Ryan Hardcore
LD Williams vs. Capellan

card subject to hollywood writer donkeys

[mooseheadjack]

Viper looks at the card...

DV: You mean I'll have to wrestle twice in one card?

FFM3: What do you mean?

DV: Well, I'm IC champ now, and I'll be world champ soon enough. I'll have to fight Knife AND Canadian Dragon on the same night!

FFM3: True true.... BTW, THAT'S the kind of confidence we need around here.

[mooseheadjack]

Phantos stares @ the lineup outside GMtR's door

Phantos: Lucios, we're not on the card?

Lucios: Rick's gonna screw us AGAIN. It'll probably be Ecosystemo and La Voltage again. Or more likely them and Bricks and Nerd Agent in ANOTHER multi-team cluster bomb.

Phantos: Seriously, who books this stuff anyway?

(Suddenly, the scene morphs into animation. a Fist protrudes through the office door and HEARTPUNCHES Phantos. The scene slowly un-morphs back to reality)

Phantos: Ow. That. Hurt. (collapses)

(Luicos takes a drink of Aquafina and drags his unconscious partner away)

[mooseheadjack]

(Spin Hansen is in the boiler room, WAILING on the guy in the RedMan suit. The shadowed figure looks on.)

SH: So first I endure complaint after complaint after complaint about how we're not good enough. How those little SHITS Los Defenestrators deserve the belts more than D.H. and I do.

Redman Suit Guy (murmuring): mmm-hnn...

SH: So we beat them. Fair and square. Get the titles, kick some ass... and then what happens? Phantos and Lucios start yammering on about how they're the "uncrowned champions" and start talking about how THEY deserve the titles more than we do and how much more important THEY are than us.

RSG: Mmmm-hmm...

SH: No fucking respect from either of them to me, D.H., or Drink and Destroy. It's the same goddamn story time after time after time.

Shadowed Figure: It's like I told you, Hansen. You've got to MAKE them respect you.

SH: And that's what I intend to do. I'm not going to be happy until I've beaten them beyond all recognition and they have to use there goddamn MASKS TO WIPE THE BLOOD FROM THEIR FACES.

SF: You're learning.

SH: And that isn't even the worst part. Those lousy sonsabitches Los Defenstrators used brass knuckles to get the titles back! Now we're going to have to listen to Phantos and Lucious bitch for hours on end about how they're still the Uncrowned Champions and how they keep on getting screwed over and blah blah blah blah.

RSG: Mhhmmhmm Mhm MHHHMMMA.

SH: What?

SF: I think he said "Presented by Aquafina.

(Spin screams, and starts laying into the man in the Redman suit with a flurry of punches, forearms, headbutts, and elbows! He NAILS him in the stomach with a kick, lifts him up, and hits THE REVOLUTION onto the cement!)

SF: Now let's see you take that intensity back to the ring... oh, and one more thing.

SH: Yeah?

SF: I've got something for you. If Los Def and the others are bringing hardware to the ring with them... you should, too. I got you this. Happy Festivus.

(The Shadowed Figure gestures to the man in the Redman suit, who weakly crawls over to him. The figure hands something to Redman, who then crawls back to Spin, handing him a box wrapped in black paper, with a black bow on it).

SH: I imagine that you want me to open it?

SF: That's the general idea, yes.

(Spin opens the box... and inside is a crowbar!)

SF: Give it a couple of swings. Get a feel for it. Take it with my complements. You're going to need it later, especially if Phantos and Lucios decide that they're going to try anything cute.

SH: Thank you. I wasn't expecting that.

SF: Just remember our deal. I scratch your back, but you're going to have to scratch mine later.

SH: Yeah, yeah. I know.

[mooseheadjack]

LD Williams bursts into the LOADED locker room.

LDW: I HAD YOU, VIPER! I FUCKING HAD YOU!

DV: But you know what I still do have? This. (points at the Intercontinental Championship)

LDW: You were ready to tap and you know it. I should be the new Intercontinental Champ.

DV: Maybe you should, but you aren't. But then, you've been going along about how you should be World Champ. But you aren't. You can't get it done when it counts. Not against Stank, and certainly not against me. And now you're curtain jerking this Sunday with someone else who can't get it done when it counts, either. Capellan. So suck on that, bitch.

Williams NAILS Viper in the face with a hard right and immediately puts him in an STF. Viper is tapping! No one else is in the LOADED locker room!

LDW: SUCK ON WHAT, BITCH?!?!

Viper is screaming and STILL TAPPING when finally Ryan Hardcore, FFMcCappinton, and The Defenestrators arrive and LD releases the hold on Viper. Viper is on the floor grimacing in pain as LD Williams picks up the Intercontinental Title, throws it down on Viper's head, and leaves the LOADED locker room.

[mooseheadjack]

The E is kicking it poolside in Makakilo City, Hawaii (cheap pop!) when a shadowy figure stands before him. For some reason, SFJ #21 is also on the scene.

The E: It’s about time you found me! You know I waited around Australia an extra day just waiting to see if you’d show up. When I say show up somewhere, I mean show up!

SF: Sorry, Eric. Planes got delayed because of the weather, and then there’s all the 9-11 terrorist BS in the terminals and I think there was a Australian Rules football game or something and...

The E: I don’t want to hear your sob stories, man! We had business to attend to in Australia, and now I had to postpone everything and have everyone fly out to Hawaii. You know how much that cost me?

SF: Again, sorry about that. I’ll pay you back. You know I’m good for it, right? I mean, have I ever not paid anyone back?

The E: Don’t give me the same story you give everyone else. I know where you get your money, and I know how fast you lose it. If we’re going to be on the same page, we need to do this the right way.

SF: Don’t worry. We’re on the same page now. Won’t happen again.

The E: You’re damn right it won’t happen again. I made sure of that. (The E gets an evil grin on his face.) See, we’re not on the same page anymore. You’re not even reading the same book. And that’s why you don’t see this coming.

SF: See wha…

At that precise moment, the shadowy man is attacked from behind. We see Carl Coolname trying to fend off two men who’s faces are hard to identify.

SFJ #21( See there was a reason for her to be at the pool): AHHHH!!!!!! SCREACHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!!! Stop it! AHHHH!!!!!!! They’re beating up Carl!!!! Don’t do that! What are you two doing? You don’t even work in the OOWF!!!! Oh MY GAWD!!!!! NO!!!!!! Not the ADRENALINE RUSH OFF THE DIVING BOARD!!!!!!!! They may have broke Coolname’s neck!! They don’t even work for the OOWF! Someone call the police! Security! Security! AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!

[mooseheadjack]

D.H. Magnusson is alone in his lockerroom.

SFJ62: D.H. Magnusson, you -

DHM: You don't wanna be in here right now, Shannon.

SFJ62: My name isn't Sh-

DHM: That was a polite way of telling you to leave.

SFJ62: But -

DHM: Out. Now. Please.

SFJ62 leaves, but DHM collars the cameraman.

DHM: You're stayin'. And you're payin' real close attention. Got it?

camera bobs up and down

DHM: Good. I guess this the part where I'm supposed to whine and cry about getting screwed out the belts with Spin. The part where I'm supposed to spit and rant about gettin' even with those two jackasses, and about ramming those knux down someone's throat.

DHM: But I ain't gonna. We'll get the belts back. We get our rematch, Spin an' me'll take our belts back. I ain't worryin' about it, I ain't even thinkin' about it. I can't afford to. Those two jokers'll get theirs from us, but before that we got a point to prove. An' we're provin' it at New Years Evil, with Phantos and Lucios.

DHM: Y'see boys, I almost kinda like you. And once you get past all the sponsorship garbage, all the goofball backstage crap, all the fascination with porno skanks... Once you get past all that, you boys got all the talent in the world. I saw it when we teamed at the Dead Baby Bonanza, and I see it every time you boys get in the ring. I see it, and I respect it.

DHM: And that's where we got our problem. Me an' Spin respect you, but we'll be damned if we get the same outta you. You're too busy talkin' crap about us - about us not bein' good enough, about us bein' cut-rate, about us bein' cheap knockoffs - you wanna call us Drink And Destroy Lite? You got two things wrong. First, I ain't Drink And Destroy. Spin, Jack, and Stank are good guys - decent pals, even - and I got their backs if they need me, but I ain't steppin' in on their turf. Secondly, Spin is Drink And Destroy, and he's the real goddamned deal. He drinks hard, an' he fights harder. You disrespect him, you disrespect me. Now you boys may not think you have any problems with that, but you do.

DHM: 'Cuz we're gonna get our respect outta you boys, even if we have to take it out of your blood. It ain't been othin' personal with me yet, but you're surely gettin' there. And don't none of the four of us want that. Nothin' good happen.

DHM: Come New Year's Evil, we want you boys to have your heads right. We want you two bring every ounce of fight you boys got into that ring. Leave your buddy Davin in the back, and come at us straight on - 'cuz we'll be doin' the same. Don't be thinkin' about the belts, don't be thinkin' about your water bottles or whores or video games or trampolines...Be thinkin' about the two pissed-off maniacs you got lookin' at you from across the ring. Be thinkin' about the two guys that you've done nothin' but disrespect and insult for over two months.

DHM: This ain't about belts, or who's the better team...this is about respect. And how we're gonna beat it in to you, if we have to.

DHM: Go tell Shannon you got her soundbyte. I got work to do.

[mooseheadjack]

Firewoman FINALLY makes it to GMtheRick's office to read the line up for the PPV, followed by NinjaCam 2000. She scans down the line up.

Hmm...Moreland...I think I have tape on him.

she scans down further

Holy shit, he was serious. Goddammit.

Firewoman bursts into GMtheRick's office, rather than knocking politely as she usually does. GMtheRick hears the swearing.

GMtR: Such language for a lady.

FW: Did you forget about my title shot when you had your temper tantrum in the middle of Mayhem?

GMtR: Temper tantrum? You guys have been destroying every arena we've been in. You should see the bills.

FW: I believe if you review the tapes, you'll see I had very little to do with most of that.

GMtR: You're still part of it. Unless you want me to treat you like a 'girl....'

Firewoman fumes, as theRick hits the nerve.

FW: No, it's just that...

GMtR: What. C'mon, you interrupted a full day of general managing for a reason, get it all off your breast....er, chest.

FW: ....

GMtR ....

FW: Fine. I don't know that I can perform two matches to the best of my ability.

GMtR: So, you're afraid you can't win.

Firewoman backs GMtheRick into a corner. He has forgotten her anger management "issues," that I just thought to add to her character.

FW: Oh, I can win. In the indies, I wrestled three, four a night. And won. It's why you hired me, remember? But I'll admit, at the end of the night, I wasn't performing my best. And you want buy rates, and ratings on Wednesday. Sloppy wrestling won't get you that.

GMtR: Uh-huh. So you're only concern is for the promotion. Right.

FW: And my career. A sloppy showing is more important on TV than in some high school gymnasium.

GMtR: [gently pushing Firewoman's forearm from off his throat] I see. Well, you have two choices. You can back out of your title shot. Just give up. Of course, who knows when you'll get another one.. The bookers don't like it when you ruin their plans.

FW: What? I'd be crazy to do that. Who else gets a title shot within 3 months of signing?

GMtR: Chris Masters? [Firewoman's forearm goes back up to theRick's throat] Okay, the other option is to back out of the steel cage match, and abandon your partner, the flippy guy.

FW: Huh? I couldn't do that!!

GMtR: Well, those are your options. Screw your partner, or screw your title shot.

Firewoman stands there a bit, and backs off. GMtheRick adjusts his tie [ooc: does he even wear a tie?] and waits her answer.

FW: I'll have to think about it.

GMtR: Well, you don't have much time.

Firewoman leaves. GMtheRick picks up the phone: Yeah, Cindi. Can you find me Firewoman's file? Did we even send her for a psych when we hired her? ....

He pushes the NinjaCam out the door and slams it shut.

[mooseheadjack]

Rabbxt drives up to the arena and parks his car in the parking lot. His Saleen is painted black and green, with a Mountain Dew logo on each side. There are bumper stickers on the back, each representing a different flavor of Mountain Dew. He gets out of the car, then pulls a can of green spraypaint out of his pocket. He shakes it up, then paints "RABBXT" on the concrete, making that parking space officially his. He slips the spraypaint back into his pocket, then begins his long walk to the arena. He finally walks through the doors and sees Firewoman.

Rabbxt: Yo, Fire!

Fire: You're just now getting here? What took you this long to show up?

Rabbxt: I had to go get the car painted. And I had to get new windows put in it. But at least I finally got my own parking space.

Fire: Really? Why does fixing your car up and getting your own parking space take priority over...

Rabbxt: It's around back. Row X, I think.

Fire: One, that's far away. Two, I don't care about your parking space.

Rabbxt: It's the only one I could find that no one would beat me up to take back.

Fire: ...

Rabbxt: What?

Fire: ... I've been booked for two matches at the PPV.

Rabbxt: Awesome! Double exposure for our team!

Fire: Not awesome. You need to quit running around here and causing all this drama.

Rabbxt: But...

Fire: No buts, Evan! Your constant shenanigans need to stop.

Rabbxt: I don't...

Fire: I'm being forced to choose, Ev. It's either the cage match or the title match.

Rabbxt: Do the cage match! We're a team, Fire! We need to work together like one.

Fire: I'm the one who should be telling you that. You're doing nothing to keep this team together. I'm wearing the pants in this team.

Rabbxt: Well, yea. These are shorts.

Fire: I'm not even in the mood.

**Rabbxt reaches into his side pocket and pulls out a bottle of Mountain Dew.**

Rabbxt: Mountain Dew?

Fire: ...

Rabbxt: Here, take it.

**Firewoman takes the bottle and throws it to the floor.**

Rabbxt: Ah! No!

Fire: Get it together, Evan. I mean it.

**Firewoman storms away angrily, while Rabbxt gets on his hands and knees and slurps all the Mountain Dew off of the floor.**

[mooseheadjack]

Jamie Lynn Spears: Jamie Lynn Spears is back at the OOWF Center to bring you the latest news as The Darling Enterprise’s exclusive backstage announcer, well at least until I turn 18 he said. He’s a strange guy that Mr. Darling.

We finally get a view of where Ms. Spears is and she’s standing outside the arena looking up and down the street when a Porsche speeds around the corner and skids up right next to Jamie-Lynn. The top is down and we see Alexander behind the wheel and the mysterious woman from his DDT Title win in the passenger seat.

Alexander Darling: You know what to do, right?

Mystery Woman: For the love of Christ Alex, I’m not one of your typical bimbos. I know how to do my job and you don’t have to worry about it.

Alexander: Whatever you say Alexis. Now I have more important things to do than worry about some curtain jerking match. And Bunny Boy…you may be able to hide inside a steel cage this week, but I’m coming for ya. Be prepared for that. BOOYAH, Bitch.

Alexis gets out of the car and walks up next to Spears. Alexis has such a disgusted look as she sizes Spears up.

Alexis: I guess you’re coming with me.

Jamie Lynn acts like a school girl in a candy store…

JLS: Ooooh where are we going and what do we have to do?

Alexis: Just follow me and don’t distract me. I only have 4 of these contracts and have to make sure the right people get them.

JLS: Are they like the contract I signed for Darling Enterprises?

Alexis: Maybe you aren’t as dumb as your sister.

The two women continue to walk down the halls of the OOWF Arena until they arrive at the RunDLP Locker-room. Alexis looks through the contracts until she finds the one she is looking for…she seems a bit confused.

JLS: What’s wrong Alexis?

Alexis: I thought there would be….Oh, never mind. I see what he did here.

Alexis takes one of the contracts and slides it under the door. She looks back to Jamie Lynn and gives her the follow me motion. They continue their walk through the backstage area sliding a contract under the LOADED locker-room door as well as finding “The E’s” private skybox and sliding a contract in their.

Alexis: And now for the interesting one.

Jamie Lynn: And what makes this one more interesting than the rest. It seems like Ale…I’m sorry, Mr. Darling has given out contracts to quite a few intriguing guys.

Alexis: My dear Jamie, what makes this interesting is that Mr. Darling is extending this offer to no guy within the OOWF.

JLS: You mean…

Alexis: I do, and we’re here.

We see that Alexis and Jamie Lynn are standing outside a door that has a big nameplate that reads FireWoman. Instead of sliding the contract under the door like she had the previous ones, this time Alexis knocks on the door.

FireWoman noticing who it is gets into a fighting position.

Alexis: Calm down there, I’m not the fighter of the family.

Fire: You mean you are…wait, it doesn’t matter. What the hell do you want with me then?

Alexis: Fire, I saw that you’re in a bit of a situation this weekend. 2 matches, both seem quite important to you.

Fire: Yea, and what’s that got to do with you. I’ve already seen Alexander Darling destroy my partner, even if he won’t admit it, and I’ve seen how he goes about winning titles. That’s not my style.

Alexis: Well Fire, Alexander is a man of unlimited resources and while he may not have any influence on GMtR yet, he’s willing to offer his services to you in anyway that you may need them. Just read this over and whenever you’re willing to talk, the number is on the back.

Alexis hands over the contract to Fire.

Fire: And if I don’t sign it…

Alexis just smiles and walks off. Jamie Lynn continues to look back and forth between Fire and Alexis before mumbling an apology and running off to catch up with Alexis. Fire just looks at the contract before walking back into her locker room. Looks like she has a lot to think about. Meanwhile, Alexis and Jamie Lynn keep walking until they reach GMtR’s office.

Alexis: Damn this building is huge. I’m getting a workout.

She knocks on the door and it pushes itself open.

Alexis: Sorry to bother ya GMtR. But Darling Enterprises had a request if it could be accomplished.

GMtR: More fucking newbs with requests…pardon my French dear.

Alexis: We actually think you’ll like this one. That steel cage match you got…I know you’ll want a legitimate ref to call the action, but wouldn’t it be a good idea to have someone on the outside to make sure nothing wonky happens?

GMtR: Wonky??? Anyway, I like it. It shall be done. Now get the hell out of here. And leave the blonde here.

Jamie looks back and forth between Alexis and GMtR.

Alexis: You heard the man. You stay here.

Alexis just laughs as she slowly closes the door and we can hear her whisper something to Jamie Lynn, ”booyah bitch.”

Fade to black.

[mooseheadjack]

<Moosehead Jack is sitting in a darkened room, lit by a singe bulb, wrapping his fists in tape and shoving them into a bucket of glass mindlessly. After several seconds he speaks.>

You know Crete a wise man once said "The fine and noble way to destroy a foe, is not to kill him; with kindness you may so change him that he shall cease to be so; then he is slain."

Sounds familiar doesn't it? For over three years you and I have waged a war, a war of morals, a war of violence, a war of judgment. And for the longest time, the only way either of us thought that we could win the war was to so change the other person that they would cease to exist. The person that once was, would no longer be.

Well Crete, after this week, your time in the OOWF is done. You took the money and ran like I knew you would. And I will live up to my end of the deal, make no mistake about that. Everything has built to this one battle, the final battle between good and evil.

But we know that is not true, don't we Crete.

So this week, at New Year's Evil III, this match is not going to be about destroying your psyche, or destroying everything you believe in. No Crete, this match, this match is all about where we started, its all about pain and bloodshed.

Crete, I want you to put Vince on hold. I want you to set all your grand plans of a debut aside. I want you to focus on this match, and this match alone, I want your undivided attention for this, I want you to realize that you are being sacrificed. Your blood helped start the OOWF, and you will leave plenty of blood in this ring before you leave.

Trust me

[mooseheadjack]

Stank - I'm annoyed.

OBJ - About...?

Stank - Just in general.

OBJ - Nothing a can of Foster's won't fix.

Stank - Thank you for not bolding Foster's like some drunken assed shill. Had you done so, I might of had to smack you in the grill with this bowl of peanuts.

OBJ - No worries, mate.

<Capellan bursts into the Destroyitarium.>

Cap - I WANT A REMATCH!

Stank - I'm annoyed.

Cap - You're ANNOYED?

Stank - Yep.

Cap - ...

Stank - ...

OBJ - ...

Cap - I DESERVE a rematch!

Stank - I deserve being able to sit here and drink without having to listen to a whiny BITCH when I'm annoyed.

Cap - EXCUUUSE ME??

<Stank sets down his drink and stands. Tension rushes into the room like beer into Outback Jack's gullet.>

Stank - Cap I'll give you points for having the stones to walk in here and demand a rematch from me. Believe it or not, there are few things I would like more than to grant you that deathwish. I respect you that much.

Cap - So you're saying there are things you would like more?

Stank - Sure. I'll tell you two. One) I like more the idea of finishing the beat down you started with Canadian Dragon. I'm going to introduce him to steel in ways he's never known it. He could learn a thing or two from his partner LD. At least Williams didn't have the temerity to come at me with a chair. Two) I would like for you to take your ass out of here and leave me be. Because, as I said, I'm annoyed and I can't be held responsible for what I do to those who worsen my condition.

Cap - ... I wouldn't sell LD so short if I was you. You think he wouldn't hesitate to use a chair on you?

Stank - Get gone, Capellan. Right now Williams is YOUR issue, not mine.

<Capellan turns to leave>

Cap - I'm getting that rematch, Stank. I'm coming for that title of yours.

<Capellan exits>

OBJ - I guess that means he thinks you'll still have it after the PPV.

Stank - And you don't?

OBJ - ... sure.

<Stank reaches for the bowl of peanuts.>

[mooseheadjack]

OBJ: Be enormous.

Stank: Is that some sort of fat joke? Becuase I'm not in the mood.

WAlly B King (from across the room): I think he's talking about this. *Starts to unzip his fly, then thinks better of it as Stank glares at him.*

OBJ: No, I'm just thinking about the new Fosters' slogan. They'll be expecting me to work it into some promos.

Stank: Like you just did.

OBJ: Pretty smooth, right?

Stank: Shouldn't you be thinking about your match?

OBJ: I'm not the one defending the title at the PPV, mate. I've got 2 of the noobs.

Stank: Are you kidding? Hardcore may not say much but he's got talent. Then you've got Eric O'Mac!

OBJ: Who is he, anyways?

Stank: Remember Revolution X?

OBJ: Oh yeah, Carl Coolname and that other guy....wait...don't tell me...it's on the tip of my tongue...

Stank: Eric.

OBJ: Eric who?

[mooseheadjack]

Shot opens in front of a hospital. We cut to the inside of a hallway and Chris Cole exits the hospital room. He looks up at the camera.

CC: What the hell are you doing here?

Just then a Hockey stick enters the frame and breaks over Cole's skull. Westguard appears and punches Cole in the head repeatedly. Cole is bleeding from the head wearing a fine crimson mask.

JWW: How do like that? Your soft Cole. I knew I could get you here unprotected by harming your former partner. You are so damn predictable. And the best part of this enite thing is you are now too damn pussy to do anything. You are soft Cole. You should have stayed retired.

Westguard kicks Cole square in the jaw which sends kncoks him out cold.

JWW: throwing a towel on Cole Wipe yourself off. You're bleeding.

[mooseheadjack]

[The Dead is WALKING! down the hallway. He sees Rabbxt on his hands and knees slurping up something sticky off the floor. He thinks about going over, and decides not to.]

The Dead: Nah. That's pathetic enough on it's own.

[He continues to walk past the locker rooms until he eventually gets where he wants to be. The ring.]

The Dead: Now this is more like it.

[The arena is empty, although in a few short days it will be packed with rabid fans. The Dead closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He then begins his rant to the conveniently placed cameraman.]

The Dead: The Dead came out to this ring for one reason. This is where The Dead feels at home. This is where history is made. This is where mere wrestlers become legends.

[He takes a deep breath and continues.]

The Dead: So, when The Dead walks through the hallways in the back, what does he see? Does he see athletes training their asses off for the last huge event of the year? Does he see men and women perfecting their craft in order to make a statement at New Years Evil? No. Instead, The Dead sees a bunch of whiny, has-been, corporate shills out to make a buck. Christ, this organization has more sponsors than Nascar. Everyone is so concerned about making that dollar that they forget why they're here. But not The Dead. The Dead knows he's here to beat the living hell out of anyone that steps into this ring with him. The Dead wants main events, not free merchandise. He wants title belts, not corporate sponsors.

The Dead: So that brings The Dead to his match at New Years Evil, a match The Dead doesn't understand. Sure, putting The Dead in a steel cage definitely equals ratings, but the opponents? Seriously? Nerve and Blitz? They're the least charismatic guys on the entire roster. Hell, The Dead hasn't heard a single word out of either of 'em in well over a week. And when was the last time either one of them won a match? The Dead doesn't think they could win a handicap match against Carl from Fresno.

The Dead: Now, as for Firewoman and Rabbxt, that's a whole different story. Rabbxt tries to be cool by impersonating everyone else on the roster. Phantos and Lucios had a trampoline, so Rabbxt had to get one. Sponsorships started flying around everywhere, so Rabbxt made sure he wasn't left out. Hell, The Dead spray painted Rabbxt's car, and the next time you see Rabbxt he's got a spray can of his own. Grow up Rabbxt.

The Dead actually had some respect for Firewoman, but recent events have changed that. Even she joined the sponsorship bandwagon. Pathetic. And now she's complaining that she has two matches in one night. Well cry The Dead a fucking river. She's contemplating abandoning her partner. The Dead and his partner don't even get along, but The Dead knows that Seamus will stand beside him and kick some ass. Fire and Rabbxt are actually supposed to like each other and they can't get on the same page. So, Fire, The Dead has a solution for you. Hand over your title match to The Dead, and you won't have to worry about wrestling two matches in one night. You see, The Dead has no problem kicking as much ass as possible on any given night.

[The Dead glares into the camera one last time.]

The Dead: At New Years Evil, Blitz, Nerve, Rodent, Fire, you'll all have one thing in common. You'll all be DEAD.

[The Dead drops the mic and the camera fades to black.]

[mooseheadjack]

(CTG is working with some resistance bands in his (near empty) locker room when SFJ #52 enters)

SFJ#52: Concrete, New Year's Evil is coming up and you are facing Moosehead Jack in his signature match - and doing so WILLINGLY. Are you sure this is how you want to finish working here in the OOWF?

CTG: (still working out) What I'm doing is making one final statement to the OOWF faithful that I can face Moose in any match he wants. I'll still walk out of here with my head held high.

SFJ#52: Moose also mentioned that he wants you focused on this match and not thinking about Up North.

CTG: (stops working out) Why should I worry about Up North when I'm still here? I've made sure that my focus is 100% on this match. In fact, the day after this past MidWeek Mayhem I was on the phone with some of the road agents, asking them to make sure that we have no one attempting to interfere in our match. We're going to be surrounded by barbed wire fencing, but would that stop Tommy Dreamer? There will be glass and tacks, do you think that would stop Balls Mahoney?

SFJ#52: and Sabu?

CTG: Duck

(they both duck as a chair sails by)

CTG: That means you too, by the way.

Sabu: (gathers his chair and stomps off)

CTG: (turns back the SFJ) At New Year's Evil, Moose and I will be testing our limits - our threshholds of pain, or will to compete, and our resolve to see this war end. I will finish this match and depart northward in a blaze of glory.....

.... no, there is no other option. Moose will not ruin this. He wishes he could, but he won't.

(CTG goes back to working out)

SFJ #52: ..... you'll be missed.

CTG: but after that match, I will never be forgotten.

[mooseheadjack]

*Outback Jack steps outside the Destroyitarium as Concrete TG runs past, doing some road work. OBJ waves him over, so Crete jogs in place.*

OBJ: I've been meaning to tell you. If you want to talk about Barbed Wire Taipei Death Matches, give me a call.

CTG: Does this mean you are ready to take a stand in the war between myself and Moosehead Jack? Are you willing to join me in pursuit of all that can be good about wrestling? To restore the OOWF into what the fans deserve, with valiant competitors who adhere to the rules of our sport? To make the OOWF into a beacon that will shine out across the world of wrestling, as an example of how things can and should be? To reject the corruption spread by Moosehead Jack and his ilk?

OBJ: Actually, I just like talking about Barbed Wire Taipei Death Matches, almost as much as I like wrestling in them. But, um, good luck with that other stuff.

CTG: Oh...thanks, I guess.

OBJ: Be sure to have fun with it, mate. Lucky bastard!

*CTG shakes his head and resumes running.*

[mooseheadjack]

**Rabbxt gets to his feet after slurping up all of the Mountain Dew. He looks to one of the conveniantly placed television monitors scattered throughout the arena to see The Dead cutting a promo in the ring.**

Sure, putting The Dead in a steel cage definitely equals ratings, but the opponents? Seriously? Nerve and Blitz? They're the least charismatic guys on the entire roster. Hell, The Dead hasn't heard a single word out of either of 'em in well over a week.

Rabbxt: Woa. I actually agree with him. Nerve and Blitz are bland as fuck. But I'm fine with being booked in this cage match against them. I'm willing to go against anyone, as long as it takes me places. If you start shit, you've got to finish it.

Rabbxt tries to be cool by impersonating everyone else on the roster. Phantos and Lucios had a trampoline, so Rabbxt had to get one. Sponsorships started flying around everywhere, so Rabbxt made sure he wasn't left out. Hell, The Dead spray painted Rabbxt's car, and the next time you see Rabbxt he's got a spray can of his own. Grow up Rabbxt.

Rabbxt: Come on, Dead. You know trampolines are the shit. Did I get one because Phantos and Lucios had one? No. Did them having one inspire me to get one? Yes. And look, I didn't call up Mountain Dew and ask them to sponsor me. They've been watching me in the OOWF, like everyone else has, and they saw what I could do and saw that I was into their product. They called me up and gave me a fucking car. Do you expect me to turn the offer down? You know what car I had before they gave me that Saleen? I had a fucking Neon, from '97. And I'm supposed to turn down a Saleen? No way. And am I to believe that you're the only person who's allowed to purchase spraypaint? Fuck that, yo. I wanted my own parking space, so I took it. It had nothing to do with trying to be like you. That's the last thing I could wish for.

The Dead actually had some respect for Firewoman, but recent events have changed that. Even she joined the sponsorship bandwagon. Pathetic. And now she's complaining that she has two matches in one night. Well cry The Dead a fucking river.

Rabbxt: Look, Dead. That MuscleMilk shit she's trying to put into me isn't something I would want to sponser, either. But the double duty thing is a bit much for anyone to handle. Sure, it gets your name out there if you perform twice in a single night, but it's tough. Even if you manage to get the win in the first match, chances are you'll be too worn out to perform at the same rate for the second match, which could easily result in a loss. It's tougher than you think, Dead. And she's upset about having to ditch one of the matches. She's being forced to choose between a belt and her partner. It's not an easy choice, Fire, but I'm sure you'll make the right one. At least, I hope.

She's contemplating abandoning her partner. The Dead and his partner don't even get along, but The Dead knows that Seamus will stand beside him and kick some ass. Fire and Rabbxt are actually supposed to like each other and they can't get on the same page.

Rabbxt: She won't abandon me, Dead. I know she won't. She can't. I care about her and I want her to do the best that she can, but she can't do that to me. Sure, it's a title match, but she wouldn't just leave me hanging. I know she wouldn't. So you better prepare yourself for the cage match, because I'm positive that Team RabbxtFire, the Burning Bunnies, will bring everything they've got into that cage.

So, Fire, The Dead has a solution for you. Hand over your title match to The Dead, and you won't have to worry about wrestling two matches in one night. You see, The Dead has no problem kicking as much ass as possible on any given night.

Rabbxt: And there it is. I knew it had to come. Don't talk shit about being able to go out there every night and fight two matches a card. You may be tough, Dead, but you're not inhuman.

At New Years Evil, Blitz, Nerve, Rodent, Fire, you'll all have one thing in common. You'll all be DEAD.

Rabbxt: Oh, fuck. He called me Rodent. It's on now. I can't take all this name-calling anymore. Look, Dead. If you want to talk shit about me, tell it straight. Name-calling stopped being cool in the third grade. I need some fucking Mountain Dew.

**Rabbxt heads off to his closet.**

[mooseheadjack]

[The Dead manages to catch the last of Rabbxt's rant back in his locker room.]

: Look, Dead. If you want to talk shit about me, tell it straight. Name-calling stopped being cool in the third grade. I need some fucking Mountain Dew.

The Dead: Hmm, didn't Mountain Dew stop being cool around then too? Silly rabbit....

[The Dead laughs his ass off as he shuts the cameraman out of his locker room.]

[mooseheadjack]

NinjaCam focuses on the door that says "Firewoman's Locker Room" and then somehow it is able to shoot through the door to see Firewoman PACING~!. The lights are down, the candles are lit. Everyonce in a while, she stops and looks in the mirror to talk to herself.

She looks down at the contract from Alexander Darling.

Like I have time for this shit.

She crumples it up and throws it angrily into a corner. She looks angrily at the cell phone on the dressing table under the mirror.

Why won't you fucking ring?

Firewoman goes back to pacing. The phone rings, and Firewoman answers it how? Angrily, of course!

Where the fuck have you been? there is a barely audible slightly metrosexual somewhat Canadian voice on the other end, but the NinjaCam 2000 left its parabolic microphone at home. Fortunately, Firewoman is a master of providing context.

No, no, sorry. ... Yes, I've taken them. ... No, it's not helping. ... Okay, the situation is this. I can screw my career or screw my partner. ... Very funny, you know what I mean. Why are all GMs such idiots!!!!

I don't know what I'm going to do. If I bail on Rabbxt, our partnership is pretty much done. And while we are complete and total polar opposites on most things, we work together really well. I really think that if I stay in this team for a while, it could really help my career and my skills. .... Not to mention that bailing on a partner would ruin any future tag team possibilities....

Yeah, but if I do THAT then give up my title shot, I'll piss off bookers and promoters, someone ELSE will get the shot, probably that TheDead guy. ..... He's okay, and probably deserves one, but he's good enough to earn his own. This one is MINE dammit. When I think of all the time I spent doing stupid sexist misogynist matches in the indies, and now OOWF has finally given me a chance to be a REAL wrestler, and actually win the title wrestling as an equal....

Well, of course I'd win it. That's not the point. ... Yes I could win both. That is also not the point. ....

You're right, I need to calm down. .... Well, Rabbxt and I were supposed to hit the treadmills today, but I haven't seen him, I think he's still in his closet. ..... Yeah, I know they put us up in hotels, but he likes staying in the closet. .... No, I don't think that's symbolic of anything. ..... Okay, yeah a few miles on the treadmill will clear my head. .... Yeah, I'll let you know. Thanks.

Firewoman hangs up, and sets the phone gently on the table. She grabs her stuff and heads to the cardio room.

[mooseheadjack]

Back in the LOADED locker room, Viper is nursing his wounds.

DV: That bastard LD....

FFM3: Never mind him. You've got bigger fish to fry. There's still Stank on your horizon, but this week, you got Knife.

DV: Yeah, Knife. The religious zealot. I don't know too much about him.

FFM3: That's ok. You can deal with the unpredictable.

DV: Well, I was kind of hoping that you'd help me out with how he thinks.

FFM3: How would I know?

DV: Well, I mean, I heard that behind the scenes, you used to have a big influence on his decisions, you know what I mean?

FFM3: I've NEVER given money to any religious or charitable organization! How dare you accuse me of that! What kind of person do you think I am?

DV: No, no. I'm saying, you used to pull his strings in a manner of speaking.

FFM3: Listen, I know when I was tag team champion, I'd have a bit too much to drink here and there but I swear to you I did NOT have sex with his momma!

DV: NO! I mean you used to control him!

FFM3: I already have a slave. Firechild, come hither!

FC: Yes, FF....

FFM3: Ah ah ah...

FC: Affirmative, Mr. McCappington, sir.

FFM3: Thank you! Now you were saying, Donnie?

DV: YOU USED TO WRITE HIS PROMOS!!!

just then, a body falls from the celing and falls flat onto the floor. The fall broke it's back and it's legs.

FFM3: Kayfabe? Where did you just come in from?

KF:....

[mooseheadjack]

*Canadian Dragon is sitting on top of a 10 foot ladder watching Stank's promo on YouTube via an iPhone. Ld Williams walks by and looks up at Dragon.*

LD: "Ok, I have to ask...what the fuck is up with the midget?"

CD: "It's a promotional thing. Really at first I thought it was lame, but then I realized having a mini Dragon was a good thing."

LD: "Shouldn't you be focused on your match? You have a shot at the World Title!!!"

CD: "Oh, I know that. And I know that Stank is one tough piece of shit...but I can think of 3 reasons why Stank is the one that needs to be worried."

LD: "The midget, a ladder, and Weapon X wanting the title off him?"

CD: "Not really. The midget is for annoying The Rick, Stank's been hit with a ladder before....and well as much as I appreciate it, I don't want you to be the reason I win the title."

LD: "So why should Stank be worried?"

CD: "The DragonSault, Dragon Sleeper, and Canadian Destroyer. See, Stank isn't in match with a high flyer. He isn't in a match with a submission specialist. He isn't in a match with a brawler. He is putting his title on the line against the one man in the OOWF who can do it all."

LD: "The one man? That seems like a slight to everybody else in the OOWF..."

CD: "It isn't. I respect you LD...but I know I can beat Stank. And once I do, if ANYBODY wants to try and prove me wrong they can find me in the ring."

*LD smirks as the camera fades to black.*

[mooseheadjack]

Sexy Male Journalist 1 walks tentatively into the gym. He sees Firewoman working on the heavy bag, throwing punches and kicks

SMJ1: Wow...who's face is on that bag?

FW: Well, it's kind of a rotating <punch> cast of characters. <punch-jab-kick>.

Rabbxt comes in

FW: You're late.

R: I know, I know, someone put an equipment locker in front of my closet door and I couldn't get it open.

FW: Uh-huh <kick-punch-punch>

R: Look, uh... I know you've got a lot on your mind. Just...Look, do you know what you're doing tomorrow?

FW: Wrestling. <hard punch-hard punch>

R: I know that. Just...well, which match?

FW: I haven't decided yet.

R: Well, I kinda need to know. I mean, if I need to get a new partner.

FW: We are partners, no matter what. You don't get a new partner <VERY hard punch-jab-punchpunch-kick>

R: You expect me to go into a steel cage match by myself?

FW: C'mon <jab-jab> you can handle it.

R: That's not the point. I've tried your MuscleMilk Protein Powder, I've gotten up early to contemplate my navel, I've ran more miles than any one should legally be forced to do. I think it's time you give a little.

FW: <WHAM!> Oh yeah, I can see where that all adds up to something roughly equivalent to a shot at the Onslaught championship.

R: Well.........okay, it's not quite the same, but still. My sacrifices should mean something.

FW: Dumping things down the sink and snoring during meditation do NOT really seem to count as sacrifices.

pausing her workout for a moment But you're right. We are partners. And partners stick together.

R: So.... steel cage it is?

FW: I haven't decided yet.

R: Fine!

Rabbxt storms off. Just as SMJ1 is about to ask a really stupid question, Alexis Darling walks in.

FW: As if my day couldn't get better...

A: I was wondering if you'd had a chance to look over that contract I gave you.

FW: <punch punch punch> No, I've been a little preoccupied.

A: Ah yes, the great dilemma. You know, by aligning with Darling Enterprises, we can help in these types of situations.

FW: Oh yeah...for a price.

A: But of course! This is a business, after all.

FW: <kick kick punch kick>

A. I see you're busy. I won't take up more of your time.

FW: Mmm...

Alexis leaves. SMJ1 tries again to ask his question, but is again interrupted by Dave Moreland


****
we interrupt this promo to edit for character consistency....
*****

[mooseheadjack]

Capellan wanders in to the gym just in time to see Moreland and Firewoman's confrontation.

"You know, that ear-licking thing can't be sanitary."

Firewoman scowls as she lays into the bag.

"Neither is a steel cage match with a guy who has Hep C. It's a rough business."

"True." Cap makes his way over to the weights set. "You want to know what I think?"

"Not really."

"Okay."

Cap starts to do weights. Firewoman throws a few more punches, then pauses.

"Fine. What?"

Cap stops for a moment.

"Well, I don't know why you haven't asked Rick to put the steel cage match on first. That's save time setting it up midshow. He'd like that - stops the crowd getting restless. And it would give you plenty of time to recuperate before the title match."

"I still wouldn't be 100%. You don't recover from a steel cage match in a couple of hours."

"True. But you could try it. Way I see it, your choice isn't simply 'title or team', its whether you think being 10 or 20 percent better in your title match is worth giving up your partnership."

"Uh huh. And I suppose you'd take on both matches?"

"Yeah, I would."

"I can't help but notice that you haven't held gold here in a while. Think that might be the reason?"

"Touche."

Firewoman turns back to her bag and Capellan resumes his weights.

[mooseheadjack]

*Davin Moreland looks around incredulously at the scene around him*

DM: Ok, Firewoman listen, I know you're stressed and I know the interruptions are just pissing you off more...Let me buy you a cup of free coffee.

FW: LISTEN here, Jackass. You're not going to...

DM: No, I'm not going to. I just want to talk to you for a minute.

FW: Like...

DM: Yeah, come on. I need to talk to you. Just a minute. Then you can come back and kick the crap out of every man on the face of the Earth. Deal?

FW: *sighs* Fine.

*Davin and Firewoman set off toward the Dunkin Donuts Hospitality Kiosk, manned by Curt "The Golden God" Schilling*

FW: So Davin, what do YOU want from me?

DM: Nothing. I just wanted to give you a little advice.

FW: What? Don't get in the ring with you, cause wittle ol me is gonna get hurt...Let me tell you...

DM: Ok, Please shut up now.

*Firewoman is taken aback a bit, and decides to shut up*

DM: Here's the thing. You're good. You're damned good. As far as I remember, you are undefeated in the OOWF, and that's quite an achievement. I've scouted you a bit too, anticipating that this would be the title shot you got, the Onslaught Championship.

FW: And?

DM: And I know you're in a tag/ladder match with Rabbxt, and I know you feel some sense of responsibility to partner up with him...

FW: But?

DM: *smiles* But...Title shots don't come along every day. You have an opportunity to be the Onslaught Champion. I don't intend to go down easily; you'll have to damn near kill me to get it. But, I think you're capable of winning, and I think you're capable of being champ. I'm not losing this belt; but if by some chance you WERE to win, I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather see with the belt.

FW: Umm, thanks?

*They arrive at the Dunkin Donuts Hospitality Kiosk*

C"TGG"S: Hey Davin! You wanna hear what Yankees sites I trolled today?!?!?!

DM: Hey Curt. Do me a favor. Get me my fucking coffee. Get her fucking coffee. Then, go fuck yourself.

C"TGG"S: But...

DM: SHUT UP YOU MONEY STEALING ATTENTION WHORE FRAUD!!!!

*Curt goes to pour coffee*

FW: Aren't you a Red Sox Fan?

DM: Yes.

*Curt silently hands them their coffee. Davin fakes like he's going to swing at The Golden God, and Curt cowers in fear. Davin giggles as they walk away*

FW: Don't you think you're being unfair?

DM: Unfair? To who?

FW: To Curt? I mean, you're a Red Sox fan for Godsakes. Bloody Sock. The whole...

*Davin holds his hand up*

DM: Me and Curt...This goes deeper than Red Sox Nation business. I'll explain it to you someday if you want. How's your coffee?

FW: Good, thanks.

DM: Really good? Cause if it's not perfect I can get on the horn with Corporate. They beta test us all the time, so it's my job to do a little QA work if I can fit it in.

FW: No, it's good, really.

DM: Good.

*They wander back to Firewoman's Locker Room, sponsored by MuscleMilk*

FW: So, Davin; what is it you're trying to say?

DM: You're on the card for 2 brutal matches; a 3-way tag ladder match, and an I Quit Match with me for the Onslaught Championship. One is for bragging rights within the nOObs, and potentially, but probably not resolving, locker room drama queen bullshit between all the kids, not so much you. The other is for a title. Simply ask yourself, what did you come to this Fed for? Did you come here to play Den Mother, or did you come here for belts?

*Firewoman opens her mouth to speak*

DM: Nah, don't answer now. Seriously. Think about it. I know you're weighing a lot of stuff right now, so take some time to consider everything. All I know is...In an I Quit match, you and me would light it up. That way, no matter who wins, the fans win. Just think about it.

FW: Alright. I'll think about it.

DM: Good. *reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a business card*. And, I'm probably overstepping a bit here, but I've been watching OOWF-TV this week, and noticed you've been trying to work through a bunch of stuff. This guy on here, well, he's the best. He helped me; that's the best endorsement I can give anyone.

FW: *unsure of what to say* Thanks?

DM: No problem. Hey, whatever you decide, don't let anyone here give you any shit. You're as good as anyone else in here, and that scares the bejezzus out of a lot of the roster. Just go and do your thing. Unless you're up against me; I'm rootin for ya.

*Davin holds out his fist. Firewoman is surprised for a sec, but bumps knuckles with Davin, as he turns to leave*

DM: Light it up, Firewoman.

*He leaves*

FW: Dammit, this whole decision thing is SO not SPARKLING with me right now.

*She opens the door*

FW: EVERYBODY GET THE HELL OUT NOW!

*Like 20 people leave, who were all apparently waiting to interrupt her*

FW: I need to meditate. *Locks the door and lowers the lights* Yes, this will sparkle nicely.

*fade*