OOWF MidWeek Mayhem 08-06-08

[mooseheadjack]

OOWF MidWeek Mayhem
Live! From Casablanca, Morocco

OOWF World Heavyweight Title Match[/u]
LD Williams vs. Outback Jack

OOWF Intercontinental Title Match[/u]
Alexander Darling vs. Chris Cole

OOWF World Tag Team Title Match[/u]
Phantos & Lucios vs. IHOP

OOWF Onslaught Championship Match[/u]
Attitude Adjuster vs. Firewoman

#1 Contenders Match[/u]
Davin Moreland vs. Justin Sane

Moosehead Jack vs. Stank
Seamus McNasty vs. Poe
Austin Cage vs. Eric O'Mac
Bunny & Carl From Fresno vs. The Worlds Greatest Fag Team
Concrete TG vs. The Amnesiac
The Dead & Blitz vs. The Midnight Sons
ZK DeBeers vs. Apocalyptic Existence
Tytan & Tyson Kincaid vs. Cape Town Cannibals

card subject to, frankly my dear, I don't give a damn

[mooseheadjack]

*leaving the arena, D.H. Magnusson has an SFJ in tow as he heads for a local establishment*

DHM: Nah, Spin didn't wanna come...he said somethin' a bout a meetin'...And that it was a one on one kinda thing. An' while the 'tarium is nice all, I been wantin' t'check his place for ages. Guy name of Rick runs the joint.

*The pair walk inside, and are very promptly greeted by a pair of festive Moroccans*

Mr. Leuchtag: D.H. Magnusson! Come sit down. Have a brandy with us.
Mrs. Leuchtag: To celebrate our leaving for America tomorrow.
DHM: Oh, thank you very much. I thought you would ask me, so I brought the good brandy. And - a third glass!
Mrs. Leuchtag: At last the day is came!
Mr. Leuchtag: Mareichtag and I are speaking nothing but English now.
Mrs. Leuchtag: So we should feel at home when we get to America.
DHM: Very nice idea, mm-hmm.
Mr. Leuchtag: [toasting] To America!
Mrs. Leuchtag: To America!
DHM: To America!
Mr. Leuchtag: Liebchen - sweetnessheart, what watch?
Mrs. Leuchtag: Ten watch.
Mr. Leuchtag: Such much?
DHM: Hm. You will get along beautiful in America, mm-hmm.

*DHM quickly downs the drink as everyone's attention is drawn to an arguement at the door to the bar's back-room casino*

Rick: Your cash is good at the bar.
Attitude Adjuster: What? Do you know who I am?
Rick: I do. You're lucky the bar's open to you.

DHM: That's him. Hey! You Rick? Little Louie told me t'tell ya he sent me.

Rick: Mr. Magnusson, welcome to my cafe. You've got an open tab at the bar, and the back room is open to both you and that lovely little thing on your arm.

DHM: Hey, thanks...But she ain't mine. Shannon here works for the company.

Rick: How extravagant you are, throwing away women like that. Some day they may be scarce.

DHM: Ummm...Yeah. Hey thanks for lettin' make myself t'home here...An' for takin' care of Shannon. Here.

Rick: Certainly. Any enemy of LJ Bennett is a friend of mine.
SFJ: Wait...YOU object to LJ Bennett? But you aren't even in the OOWF!
Rick: And?
DHM: Hey, the man knows a parasite when he sees one.
Rick: I don't mind a parasite. I object to a cut-rate one. You two enjoy yourselves. I have a ginmill to run.

*Rick moves to the bar*

SFJ: So, D.H....You and Spin will be facing The Dead and Blitz at Mayhem, the team that defeated the two of you and Red, White, and Bruised. What are your thoughts going into the match?

DHM: Well, it's like this Shannon...We been gettin' distracted. I'll give that lowlife Bennett credit fer one thing, he got in our heads with this war. We been thinkin' so much about that sack of crap and his cronies that we been slippin' a bit. He got us t'lose our focus with th' way he's been bouncin' us around the card, puttin' us in singles matches, screwin' us with stips...An' I'm thinkin' we lost sight of what we set out t'do.

SFJ: Which is?

DHM: Well, fer Spin is all about respect. He's the kinda guy that lives and dies it. Don't matter from who. Can't fault him none for it, there's more that a bit 'o' me feels th' same sometimes. But that made it a little easier t'get in his head for Bennett. You disrespect Spin, an' he's gonna hound you to the ends of the earth t'get MAKE you respect him. An' he'll get it from ya, even if he has ta bleed it outta ya.

SFJ: And you?

DHM: Aw hell, Shannon...It ain't that hard. Y'do what's right for the guys that can't do it fer themselves, mostly. See, that's where I screwed up. Me an' Spin, we made a promise to the important people out there...The ones sittin' in the crowd. I let us get more than a little sidetracked after the crap they pulled on th' Rick an' Firechild...it got in my head, made wanna line up with everybody else t'get some payback for him. We got so wrapped in up that that we who was fightin' for.

SFJ: And now?

DHM: An' now we got our heads wired straight. This pissin' contest wasn't ours t'start with, and it ain't ours now. I got a couple people I owe, an' I got their backs when they need me, but you can count th' Midnight Sons outta your little war boys. But don't think that means you can count us outta the fight. Blitz? Corpesboy? You're gonna learn something that one th' hard way. Me an' Spin, we're the Midnight Sons...And that makes us 100 PROOF...We don't go down easy.

DHM: You got your soundbyte Shannon...Now either have a drink with me or get out. I got work t'do.

SFJ: Well..I guess ONE drink couldn't hurt...

DHM: Shannon, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.

[mooseheadjack]

Breaking OOWF news!!!!!!!

AA: I demand a match against Firewoman!!!!

SFJ #25: The match is already signed for this week.

AA: Oh. Wait, why are you messing with kayfabe?

[mooseheadjack]

*In a back room of the place in Karmic's exalt-worthy post*

Bunny: You despise me, don't you, Rick?

Rick: I suppose I would if I gave you any thought.

*Meanwhile, on the front porch of the establishment, OOWF's Rick is sitting with a local indie promoter*

LIP: So why did you come to Casablanca?

OORick: For the Dayton Flyers games.

LIP: But there are no Dayton Flyers games in Casablanca.

OORick: I was misinformed.

[mooseheadjack]

Selena is primping in a mirror in a locker room well lit by candles. As she plays with her hair, Poe is watching from a couch at the other side of the room, still sporting his lucha mask.

Poe: Selena, my goddess, what on earth are you doing?

SG: You’ll see.

Poe: Seriously my love, what is with the dress?

We now see Selena is wearing a tattered purple dress with what look like streamers attached to it. Selena turns around to face Poe.

SG: Seamus is Irish right?

Poe: Very much so, yes.

SG: Then he’ll get it. He needs to be taught a lesson.

Poe: Selena, I usually understand and adore your games, but this time even I have no idea what you’re talking about. How is wearing that get revenge on Seamus, and why do you want revenge on Seamus?

SG: He’s dirty. He went after your ankle.

Poe: Of course he did…I would too if I were him.

Selena turns back to the mirror and finishes playing with her messy wet hair. She then turns back to Poe with a huge smile.

SG: Let’s go.

Selena rushes out the door. A very confused Poe sighs and follows her. We follow them through the maze of hallways, including the Hallway of Random Encounters with shockingly, no incident. Selena comes to Seamus McNasty’s dressing room door and smiles as she waits for Poe to catch up.

Poe: Okay, what are you planning on doing?

SG: I’m a Banshee. Time to scare him.

Poe: Oh good lord….

Selena lets out a high pitch scream that will wake dogs for miles. Poe immediately scoops her up and carries her down the hall before anyone can come out of the door. Just as they’re out of view, Seamus opens the door.

SM: What the hell was that??

Seamus looks up and down the hall, seeing nothing. He shakes his head and closes the door back

[mooseheadjack]

"The Main Event" Chris Cole is in the back with Sexy Female Journalist #27. Harper Camby is backing him up.

SFJ: Chris, at next week's Mayhem you will have a chance to become the OOWF Intercontinental Champion when you face Alexander Darling. What do you think your chances are that you will win the title?

CC: Do you know how many times I've won the Intercontinental Championship? Zero. I've never won it. The reason for that is because I've never wanted to win it. I've always been obsessed with the World Tag Team and World Heavyweight Titles. But Alex, you picked the wrong time to be IC Champ. You see I'm commited to this war. Right now my comrade L.D. Williams holds the World Title and that is not getting into the hands of Team Rick anytime soon. Alex, I'm going to take your title. I'm going to bring it into Team Bennett's camp. L.D and me are going to go out Wednesday night and celebrate with the rest of Team Bennett over the fact that the two best wrestlers in the OOWF today are on our side. I'm going to add the IC Title to the rest of my OOWF Hall of Fame resume. And Alex, at the end of your career you will be a footnote.

[mooseheadjack]

(Tytan sits alone in the Ultimo Inc. training room. There is no sign of Dr. Podvod. and Steel still lays in a hospital bed.)

Tytan: I can't find Diana anywhere and with Steel still in the hospital bed. OBJ and Stank cleared in the investigation. I am still down to two people. Chris Cole and Diana.
Now I have a match next week where I have to partner up with Kincaid. This one ought to be good. But until then it seems like I am on my own....

(Just then a mysterious voice speaks up.)

Voice: That may not be the case...

Tytan: What in the--

(Fade to Black)

[mooseheadjack]

<Moose walks into the destroyitarium and sits at the bar next to Stank. Stank just turns and looks at him in amazement>

S: Uh, Moose?

MHJ: What?

S: Think you should really be in here?

MHJ: I'm thirsty

S: We have a match this week

MHJ: Beer before violence

S: I'll drink to that

<a long silence passes between Stank and Moose>

S: So this match.......

MHJ: Nothing personal, it just happened

S: Random match generator?

MHJ: Something like that <finally Moose turns to Stank> Look, I have no problem with you, other than you are on the other side. We have been square with one another, so this is what it is. Its a match, and its one we both need to win. You know what I can do, I know what you can do. It's that simple.

<Stank ponders that for a moment then seems to get an idea>

S: We should talk somewhere where the Ninja's aren't around

<fade>

[mooseheadjack]

<Moose and Stank are in an undisclosed location away from prying ears>

S: Look Moose, you and I both have some clout around here, we could end this war

MHJ: No, this is really bigger than either of us. There are too many people determined to see this through to the end. Beside, you have bigger problems to worry about

S: Yeah I know, I face you this week, I get it Moose.

MHJ: Not exactly that. What would you say if I told you I was told to take you out by any means necessary?

S: I would tell you to tell Bennett to fuck off

MHJ: What if I told you it wasn't Bennett?

S: I would say the same to Cole, Eric, Williams, whoever

MHJ: What if I told you it wasn't on Bennett's side

S: I would say......wait, what?

MHJ: I was told to make sure you were out of the picture

S: By who?

MHJ: I don't know. I got a call and they told me I would be paid handsomely for it.

S: Bullshit

MHJ: Why would I lie?

S: To stir up shit

MHJ: Stank, I have been on the level with you haven't I? I had your back with The Heroes Guild, even during this war, there was nothing personal between us.

<Stank pauses for a few moments>

S: And what are your intentions?

MHJ: That all depends......

<fade>

[mooseheadjack]

Attitude Adjuster’s phone rings, so he checks the number and decides it’s safe to answer.

AA: Johnny! How you doing?

AA: Good, good to hear. So what’s going on?

AA: That’s really cool. Yeah, I know the Brewers went down in flames, but you can’t win them all.

AA: Do what? Turn on the Audience Voice Recognition Device so the fans can hear both sides of the phone call? Oh, sure. Hang on a second. There you go.

JA: Can they hear me now?

AA: Loud and clear.

JA: Ok, now we can get on with the promo. So you’re facing Firewoman this week. I heard a rumor the other day about her.

AA: Whadya hear?

JA: I hear she got knocked up while on that suspension.

AA: Wait, isn’t this what we did to FF Capslock a couple years ago? And it just pissed him off!

JA: Oh yeah.

AA: And besides, when was the last time a pregnancy angle worked in wrestling? The only one even remotely funny was when Gene Snitzky kicked the doll into the stands.

JA: “It’s Not My Fault!”

AA: So who’d you hear knocked her up? Hey, what? You’re cutting out! Who? You’re kidding! Wow! What a shocking turn of events!

JA: Yeah, that’s what I thought too.

AA: Well, I’ll run it by Firewoman and the bookerman and see if they want her to be pregnant. Last I heard she wasn’t too thrilled about it. Something about ruining her wrestling career. How petty is that? I mean, I could cut promos while pregnant. What do you mean I did! Is that a crack about my weight? Johnny! Johnny?

[mooseheadjack]

D.H. Magnusson: Hey, Li-

Firewoman: I swear to whatever gods you have that if you finish saying that name, I'm going to tell everyone what D.H. stands for.

DHM: ...Fire.

FW: *grins* That's better.

DHM: I just wanted t'say thanks, y'know...For helping me get under AA's skin a bit last week.

FW: My pleasure. Sorry you couldn't get the title off of him, but it was worth the look of his face when I came out.

DHM: I ain't worryin' 'bout the strap none...You'll get it this week. I just wanted t'say that I owe ya one - I got your back ya need a hand with anything.

FW: I appreciate it, but don't think I can't handle Attitude Adjuster.

DHM: That ain't what I'm talkin' about, but I wanted you t'know that even with me an' Spin pullin' outta this turf war I ain't the kind t'forget my friends. Y'need some help, I'll be there.

FW: Well I - Wait. What are we talking about?

DHM: Well I heard about your condition, an' I just wanted t'say that if you need a hand when th' time comes....Well I seen how hard it can be for a single mother, and if you're tryin' to bal-

FW: I AM NOT PREGNANT!

*DHM narrowly escapes the hallway as large metallic objects begin flying his way*

[mooseheadjack]

Firewoman is SITTING~! in the Run-DEA Suites sponsored by Aquafina drinking her Dunkin Donuts Coffee (even though she prefers Starbucks and reading the latest Muscle and Fitness Hers magazine.

Phantos: Should you be doing that?

FW: What?

Phantos: Drinking coffee.

FW: Why shouldn't I?

Phantos: Is it decaf?

FW: Don't be ridiculous. That shit's nasty.

Phantos: But, I thought ... you're health ...

FW: What? After my suspension I'm in the best health ever. I worked out harder, I'm stronger, I'm --

Phantos: No I meant....being in the ... uh...

FW: Why are you blushing?

Phantos: Never mind....Rick wants to see you.

FW: The Rick?

Phantos: Yeah. I'll walk with you.

FW: Why? There's a cease fire, so we don't need the buddy system.

Phantos: Just in case you need anything along the way.

FW: Huh? You're confusing me more than usual. Just stay here, I'll be fine.

Phantos: Oh, okay...sure, uh...really, whatever YOU want.

Firewoman looks at him, puzzled, and then gets up to head to Rick's office. As she stands, Phantos rushes over and tries to help her up

FW: What the fuck are you doing?

Phantos: Oh... uh... nothing. Sorry.

She shakes her head and exits into the hallway towards Rick's office.

Eerily, she makes it to his office without incident, without even so much as a sneer from any Team Bennett members. The door is open.

GMtR: Come in. Oh, please...have a seat.

Rick goes out of his way to move some papers off the one comfy chair in the office. Firewoman sits down, somewhat confused.

GMtR: Are you okay? Do you need some water?

FW: No....what is going on? Are you firing me?

GMtR: What? No! I couldn't do that. Toss you out in the cold, no income, no insurance? What kind of monster do you think I am.

FW: Uh....huh?

GMtR: Sorry I couldn't get your suspension lifted before now, but I guess you put your time off to good use, eh?

FW: Huh? Look, just say what it is--

GMtR: Well, I suppose you'll be needing some more time off. I wish you had come to me as soon as you knew, but I understand, things are hectic. [Rick flips through what appears to be calendars and schedules] And ring work is definitely out. Since you have your manager's cred, you can probably do that for a while, but then--

FW: I have no idea what you are talking about. I have a match this week.

GMtR: Oh yeah, that's right. Well, we can rebook that, no problem. Maybe give the title shot to--

FW: No you will not! That is my title shot. That is my title. I didn't lose it, I had it taken from me due to Bennett's shenanigans.

GMtR: Very true, very true, but it'll be there when you get back from--

FW: Back from what? Did I get suspended again? I haven't even so much as looked at someone cross-eyed!

GMtR: Don't be silly, we wouldn't suspend you for this. Think of the lawsuit. Not to mention the bad press. You've really brought the women's demographic, so the board says we have to be careful how we handle this.

FW: Handle what?!?!?

GMtR: Dammit, Fire, I'm not good with these women things. Your...uh...maternity leave.

FW: MY WHAT!?!?!?

GMtR: Now, take it easy. It's not good for women in your condition to get upset, or... well, at least, that's what I've heard. Don't worry, your position in the company will be secure, we wouldn't dream of--

FW: Dammit. I'm going to kill him. Listen, Rick. There's no need for any of that.

GMtR: Look I know you're tough, but there's another person to consider here--

FW: Damn straight there is.

Firewoman looks out into the hallway and grabs a Sexy Female Journalist and a ninja cam

FW: Go ahead...ask me if I have something to say to my opponent for next Mayhem, Attitude Adjuster.

SFJ: But you don't usually talk to us--

FW: ASK ME!!

The sexy female journalist jumps.

SFJ: Uh...Firewoman, do you have anything to say to Attitude Adjuster about your match this week?

Firewoman grabs the mic out of the SFJ's hand and looks directly into the camera.

FW: Listen to me closely, Attitude Adjuster. I see what you're doing. Spreading rumors to distract me. Very clever. Except it's not going to work. It's just going to piss me off, and I think both Eric O' Mac and Johnny Adrenaline can tell you, that's not something you want. See, you have something that is mine. And you were instrumental in the plot to take it away from me. Not by beating me, of course. I was never defeated for the title. So it's still mine, and I'm coming to get it back. So be ready.

Firewoman drops the mic onto the floor with the audible thud that a live mic being dropped to the floor makes. SFJ picks it back up.

SFJ: GMtheRick, does this mean that the rumors about Firewoman's condition aren't true?

GMtR: I have no idea what it means. But I guess we'll find out Wednesday.

[mooseheadjack]

*Inside the Run DEA Suites*

Alexander is sitting next to LG15.

Alexander: Damn, the hormones are hitting quick. Do me a favor, if you ever wind up P...Pr...you know, just tell me. Don't hide it like Fire is doing from whoever. I can handle it.

LG15 looks at Alexander a bit cross-eyed.

LG15: Sure you could...

Alexander: What? I could...

LG15 just rolls her eyes before turning back towards the TV.

*Fade*

[mooseheadjack]

Selena has gotten away from Poe and runs down the hallways, giggling. Poe is chasing after her best he can on his bum ankle. Selena passes by the Run DEA suite and stops, looking back to the door. She stares at it for a few moments, her eyes turning from playfulness to hatred and rage. She then lets out a blood curdling scream/wail, even worse than before.

After a few seconds, Lucious opens the door to see Selena staring back it him.

L: Well, well, well, what do we have here? It’s Poe’s moon girlie.

Selena backs up against the wall, realizing what could happen to her.

L: You wake me and my tag partner, without your boy Poe, with that scream, and expect me to not be grumpy?

Lucious extends a hand, about to grab Selena when he’s nailed out of no where with a Yakuza Kick from Poe. Poe stands over Lucious and in between Selena and the Run DEA door. Phantos comes out and clubs Poe on the back with a forearm. Poe turns towards Phantos, grabbing him under his arms, tosses him into the air, grabs the back of his head and slams Phantos down to the hallway floor.

Poe then stands over his handiwork as Selena cuddles up to his arm, humming. Just then Alexander Darling, hearing the commotion, comes out the door. He drops to the ground just in time to miss the spray of red mist from Selena.

Alexander looks up at the dissipating cloud of red mist, then to Poe and Selena who are both grinning at him.

AD: Shit, shit, shit…

Alexander backs into the Run DEA suite in his hands and ass. Poe kneels to be eye level with Alexander.

Poe: Fear not, Boy. When I strike you down, you will not see it coming. This was an unplanned visit. Have a good day. Say hello to Firewoman and my Isis for me will you?

Poe doesn’t see Firewoman standing above both of them in the doorway.

FW: Say it yourself.

Poe smiles and stands.

Poe: Hello again Fire. You’re practically…glowing. Namasdeh.

Poe then takes Selena by the arm and walks down the hallway with her skipping by his side. Firewoman looks down at Alexander and shakes her head. They then hear Selena call back down the hallway:

SG: Nevermore!

[mooseheadjack]

(Tytan is still in the Ultimo Inc. training room trying to find the source of the voice.)

Tytan: Who are you?

Voice: It's time for you to be your own man Tytan.

Tytan: I am no one's to control. Look at what happened to those that tried. They are dying or gone.

Voice: This time it will be different.

Tytan: How?

Voice: I will treat you as an equal.

Tytan: By not even letting me see who you are?

Voice: In time my friend...you and I have a lot in common. You see we walk among the Gods and Monsters, no one can truly understand us and where we come from.

Tytan: I am begining to see your point. We need to talk some more...why don't you come down?

(He waits for an answer. He gets none.)

Tytan: Where are you?

Fade to black

[mooseheadjack]

OBJ - You still trying to figure out who?

<Stank looks up from the table at Outback Jack who stands a couple of feet away, a can of Foster's in his hand.>

Stank - I just don't get it. Why would someone on OUR side want Moose to take me out... by any means necessary?

OBJ - And why wouldn't they assume Moose would try and do that anyway?

Stank - It just doesn't make sense.

OBJ - Unless Moose is lying.

Stank - ...

OBJ - ...

Stank - Alter the truth a bit...? Sure. Purposely withheld information...? Certainly. But one thing Moose has never done is outright LIE to me. He's always been straight up.

OBJ - There's a first time for everything. We ARE at war, you know.

Stank - How could I forget with everyone reminding everyone every fucking week.

OBJ - Point remains. You fight for Rick. Moose fights for Bennett.

Stank - I know... ... ... ... I know.

<Stank goes back to staring at the table, lost in thought.>

<Camera fades>

[mooseheadjack]

(Tytan is at Steel's Hospital room. Is is sitting there trying to make sense of everything. He is talking it out to Steel who is still unresponsive and in a coma.)

Tytan: So, what is it suppose to be Steel? Is it time for me to be my own man and do this my way or do I sit here and wait for you to wake up and continue to give me the direction?

(No response.)

Tytan: I don't know...this war means nothing to me. All I wanted was a chance at some titles but all I did was get caught up in doing your bidding. Now look the team is all broken apart. Diana is missing...and is possibly the one that ran you down. And now you are lying here in a coma.

(Still no response.)

Tytan: Maybe it is time for me to be my own man. Do things my own way...maybe this time less people I trust will get hurt.

(Heads to the window.)

Tytan: Now if I could only figure out where Diana is? That and is she the one that tried to kill Steel...not that she didn't have any reason too.

(Crossfade to Diana Podvod sitting at an unnamed hotel talking on a cell phone.)

Diana: So, did you do it?....He's not dead...Coma...That's still good...You will receive your money but not the full payment...you didn't complete the job...You still want to do that....I will think about it...I will be in touch. (Hangs up the phone.)

(Fade to Black)

[mooseheadjack]

<Stank walks up to Moose, LD Williams and Chris Cole. Moose is evidently telling a joke, rare times indeed>

.....so the Irishman says "Oh, no, everyone's fine. I've just quit drinking."

<All three laugh, then stop immediately when they notice Stank standing there>

CC: The fuck do you want Stank?

S: I need to talk to Moose

MHJ: It's ok guys, I'll catch up to you later. What do you need Stank?

S: Not right here, come with me.

<we fade then through the miracle of INC's we appear to be on the roof of the Casablanca Arena. Moose and Stank are standing there with a nice breeze blowing admiring the local scenery>

S: Christ it is beautiful here.

MHJ: It is indeed, but that is not why you dragged me up to the roof

<Stank turns to face Moose>

S: No, it isn't. Moose, I know you, you and I go way back. You have pulled some shit in your day, so I gotta know, are you bullshitting me with this?

MHJ: No

S: Goddammit, what reason do I have to believe you?

<Moose thinks for a moment>

MHJ: Honestly? None

S: This is not helping

MHJ: Look Stank, I have no reason to screw with you here. We could just as easily have been put in a match together and the same results would have been possible.

S: You mean you taking me out?

MHJ: Things happen in matches, could have been you, could have been me. This is different

S: This is a bounty on my head.

MHJ: Thats what it sounds like.

S: Why you?

MHJ: Why not me? Look Stank, all I can tell you is there is someone on your side that wants you taken out. You can believe me or not.

S: Your track record doesn't make you the most trustworthy person

MHJ: Have I ever lied to you?

S: No, but there is a first time for everything.

MHJ: Look, we can see what is going on with this war, we know your side is unified enough that some silly rumor is not going to tear you guys apart. And if we can see that, the people on your side can see it too. Had they wanted to just spread it as a rumor, that would have been easy enough, but whoever it was knew that a rumor wouldn't cut it, someone had to be hired to do the job.

S: And that is you

MHJ: I haven't agreed to anything...........yet

S: Why not?

<Moose pauses for a long time>

S: Well?

MHJ: I really don't have an answer

S: Bullshit

MHJ: Look, what do you want me to tell you? Its certainly not the principle of it, normally I would do the job for free. There was just something about this that didn't sit right with me

S: You going soft?

MHJ: Fuck you, I can change my mind right now.....

S: No no. Look, I know you are going to catch shit over this, Eric is probably going to scream his head off, but I have an idea for our match this week if you are interested

MHJ: I'm listening

S: But before I say anything, if you are serious about this, and double cross me during the match, I will hurt you

MHJ: You will try, and fair enough, let's hear the plan....

<fade>

[mooseheadjack]

SFJ#42: “L.D., This week at Mayhem, you have to defend your World Championship against Outback Jack, who defeated you by disqualification last week. Are you concerned?”

LD: “No one ever gets into the ring with Outback Jack without being concerned. It’s entirely possible that Jack could beat me, assuming the match is called down the middle.”

SFJ#42: “You’re referring to Sterling Glaw’s decision to disqualify you for hitting him.”

LD: <chuckling> “Now that, that was an accident. If I were to decide to hit Sterling Glaw, he would not be the one calling for the bell. I don’t know what his reasoning was, and I don’t care. He cost me a victory, and that’s a mistake you only make once.”

SFJ#42: “There are rumors that Sterling was only following orders…”

LD: “Yeah, but whose? Truth is, nothing would surprise me any more. Eric’s actiong like Moose, Moose might be in danger of doing the right thing, anything is possible at this point.”

SFJ#42: “Speaking of rumors, what is your opinion of Firewoman’s ‘condition’?”

LD: “ Do I look suicidal? No Comment.”

[mooseheadjack]

Quick blips come onto the Entry screen. He is comming.........un readable clips........ends with the sound of a can opening

[mooseheadjack]

Attitude Adjuster has dragged a SFJ out to a local Moroccan tennis court for an OOWF exclusive interview.

SFJ #99.5: We’re here at the Casablanca Hotel, Casino, Tennis Court and Tavern with OOWF Onslaught Champion Attitude Adjuster. Why are we out here today? You don’t play tennis.

AA: Exactly. But what I’m here today for is to prove that women have no right to compete against men. Firewoman, I’m talking to you! I have found the best female athlete in all of Morocco, and she happens to be a professional tennis player. So I have challenged her today to prove that any man, even one who doesn’t play tennis, can beat a woman on pure athletic ability. So let me bring out Sania Mirza, who just happens to be the 60th ranked player in women’s tennis and the best female athlete in Morocco. Sania, say something to my fans.

SM (in pretty good English): I’m not from Morocc…

AA: Sorry, toots. I guess that Moroccan accent is just too strong to understand. So let’s play. Due to time constraints, we’re only going to play the best of three games. Though I’m sure it will only be two games, because I can’t imagine you taking even a game from me.

SM: I’m going to kick your...

AA: Yes, yes, we can say hello to your family after the match. But right now this is all about me. So get over on the other side of the net and let’s play. I’ll even let you serve first.

Mirza grabs some tennis balls and walks to the baseline. She tosses the ball for her first serve and thunders it past AA before he even has a chance to move.

Umpire: 15-0, Mirza.

AA (looking very surprised): Heh, umm, I thought I’d let you have that one. Come on, try that again.

Mirza crushes another serve past AA, who took a weak swing at it about two seconds after the ball went by. The next serve AA makes contact with but hits it weakly into the net. At game point, AA actually returns a serve, only to have it hit back right at his head. AA ducks, and the ball bounces beyond the baseline.

Umpire: 40-15, Mirza.

AA: Ha! Got ya that time! Now it’s AA time!

Mirza crushes an ace to win the first game.

As Mirza and AA walk to their respective chairs, AA starts complaining the sun was in his eyes. He gets into a loud discussion with the umpire, which eventually brings Mirza to the ump’s chair. As soon as Mirza leaves her chair, DONNIE VIPER leaps from the crowd, pours a MYSTERIOUS POWDER into Mirza’s water bottle and then rushes to the locker room. The umpire never sees a thing. Mirza takes a drink of water from her bottle and gets a quizzical look on her face, but takes two more slugs from it before returning to the court. AA gets to serve this game.

AA double faults to start, then gets the next return of service rifled past him.

Umpire: 0-30, Mirza.

But Mirza is starting to hold her stomach and looks ill.

AA: What? Tired already? Come on, let’s play!

AA gets a serve in and after a long rally in which Mirza gets weaker and weaker, AA gets the point. AA then gets two more points on long, extended rallies, then hits a weak serve that Mirza still can’t reach. She’s barely able to stand!

Umpire: Game, Attitude Adjuster.

Mirza stumbles back to her chair, takes a sip from her water bottle and slumps in her chair. AA gives her the bad mouth between games until the umpire finally intervenes. AA threatens to hit the umpire with his racket, and the umpire gives his best “I’ll throw you out” expression. Finally they get back on the court for the third game. Mirza walks to the baseline and collapses. Medics come quickly, and announce she is unable to continue. AA drops to his knees and celebrates like he’s just won the French Open. Viper runs from the locker room to join in the celebration.

SFJ#99.5: That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen! You drugged her!

AA: What?!? I did no such thing. I beat her fair and square. And Firewoman, that’s exactly what’s going to happen to you this Wednesday at Midweek Mayhem in Casablanca, Morocco (cheap pop)!

DV: That was a lot of work for just a promo.

AA: Just a promo?!? That was a five-star classic! Besides, this is all foreshadowing. I don’t leave angles unattended.

DV: What about when you and Johnny were going to turn face?

AA: (to Viper) Ix-nay on the face turns-ay. We don’t talk about that anymore. (to camera) Firewoman! Midweek Mayhem! Onslaught Title! Be there!!!!!!!

[mooseheadjack]

Firewoman is in the hallway TALKING~! on her cell phone

FW: No…..NO….look, I didn’t tell you because….will you let me finish?…..yes…..no….I don’t know…..no, that’s not what I meant….look, aren’t you supposed to be off not having fun or something?

As she is talking, Attitude Adjuster comes in with his tennis racket, fresh from his “demonstration” with Sania Mirza, looking especially smirky.

AA: Well, hello there, toots. Catch my demo with tennis great Sania Mirza?

FW: [into the phone] I gotta go. We’ll finish this later. And don’t wear that suit again. [She hangs up and then turns to Attitude Adjuster]. Yes I did. Can you be called a “tennis great” if you’re ranked 60th?

AA: I think 60th in the world is still pretty awesome. And she folded like a house of cards [He swings his tennis racket in mocking fashion to punctuate this point.]

FW: Yes, I saw. A poisoned house of cards.

AA: Lies….all lies….

FW: [who is rather amused by all this] Really? I think all you did manage to prove two things.

AA: Oh yeah? [he does another exaggerated tennis swing]

FW: One, that you’re so insecure about competing against a woman, that you’d rather poison her than have a fair battle.

AA; Uh huh [he sets up to serve an imaginary ball, feigning that he is barely listening] And number two?

FW: [As he completes the downswing of the “serve,” Firewoman grabs the tennis racket and pulls it from Attitude Adjuster’s hand] You can’t win unless you cheat.

AA: Not true. And give me that back!

FW: Very true. [She begins to walk…nearly sashay…down the hall with the racket over her shoulder, left hand in her pocket] We could go through the list, but I just don’t have that kind of time.

Firewoman walks outside with Attitude Adjuster following behind.

AA: Are you going to give it to me?

FW: In a minute …. How far away do you think we are from the arena entrance?

AA: About 150 feet. Come on….let me have it!! You’re really starting to piss me off.

FW: Oh, sorry about that. [she stops walking near a conveniently placed steel drum that appears to be full of paper.]

AA: Dammit Fire. I know we have a cease fire, and even if we didn’t, I wouldn’t want to harm you in your ‘delicate’--

FW: Finish that thought….[she points the tennis racket menacingly at Attitude Adjuster]

Firewoman pulls her lighter out of her left pocket.

AA: Hey now….cease fire! And literally!

Firewoman lights the papers in the trashcan

AA: Whatever. Look. You better give me that tennis racket. Cease fire or no cease fire, baby or no baby, I will take it from you.

FW: [holding the racket behind her] I dare you. C’mon, try it, and what Phantos did to Johnny Adrenaline will look like a love tap.

[The two stare nose to nose, neither one wanting to budge and risk violating the cease fire. Finally, the tension is broken.]

AA: For the last time, the tennis racket, Fire….let me have it

FW: [smiling] Sure, Attitude Adjuster. No problem.

And with that, she plunges the tennis racket into the trashcan of burning paper and sashays back towards the arena. Attitude Adjuster is torn between whether to go after her or rescue his tennis racket. Rather than risk suspension, he goes for the tennis racket.

[mooseheadjack]

*Davin Moreland is SITTING~!~!~ in the Run DEA Suites, presented by Aquafina and Dunkin' Donuts watching OOWF-TV or something on the Sony Multimedia Center. Justin Sane comes in and plops on the couch across the room*

JS: Darwin, my teamate...This is some serious business we've got here.

DM: I know.

JS: What Bernard is doing is wrong.

DM: I agree.

JS: Listen, Darwin, about the match, I mean, you earned that #1 pretender spot. I don't want any part of...

DM: Stop right there. Listen. You win? You get the #1 contender spot. You go out there, and you give it 100%, no less. Are we clear?

JS: But...Darwin...

DM: Are we clear?

JS: Ok Teamate. I'll treat you like anyone else.

DM: Good. It's only fair. You see, I've been talking to LADDER to try to get pointers on you...

JS: YOU WHAT? YOU TRAITOR!!! MY MORTAL ENEMY!!!

DM: Hey, I want to win too.

JS: THAT'S IT DARWIN! NO MR. NICE PERSON FOR YOU! NO ONE TALKS TO LADDER AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!

DM: Good.

*Justin Sane storms off, presumably to train or something. Firewoman sashays into the room.*

DM: Hey kid, wel...oh...sorry, yeah...I mean, Hi Fire.

*Fire just glares*

FW: NOTHING HAPPENED!

DM: I'm letting that gimmick infringement slide, simply because of your "condition"...

FW: AHHH! Way to ruin my good mood, Davin.

*she goes into her suite, slamming the door*

DM: Great. Hormones.

*fade*

***OOC "teamate" is intentional ***

[mooseheadjack]

(Firewoman is STORMING~! through the hotel a little later, heading for the restaurant. she sees CTG standing there, holding the door open for her)

FW: Chivalry doesn't work on me, Crete.

CTG: "Chivalry"? But it's heroic.... and in the case of a woman aglow I thought it appropriate.

FW: "GLOW"? just how old do you think I am?

CTG: Not the wrestling organization. I've heard the news, and congratulations.

FW: What the hell are you talking about? (walks in the door. CTG follows)

CTG: Modesty isn't a quality I expected of you, Citizen Fire. (pulls a chair out for her) please, stay comfortable, I can bring your sandwich to the table.

FW: what, you too??

CTG: Excuse me?

FW: I .... am.... NOT.......

CTG: You're not helpless, I know. I just thought I would extend the gesture since it seems the 'father' is not about.....

FW: If you don't get away from me in the next 5 seconds......

CTG: Mood swings already? Garcon, bring her some ice cream!

FW: OUT~!! OUT~!! OUT~!!!

CTG: Hagen-Daaz, if you would

FW: CRETE~!!

CTG: .... chocolate?

FW: You REALLY want to see me get suspended?

CTG: wouldn't it extend the maternity leave?

(we cut to the exterior of the restaurant, as Crete bursts through the doors, fleeing from a torrent of VERY unladylike language)

[mooseheadjack]

[Somehow a generic interviewer winds up in The Dead's locker room.]

GI: So, any thoughts about your match this week?

Dead: How the hell did you...wait, match? I have a match this week?

GI: Yes. In fact, it's against The..

Dead: Hmm, I must have fallen even lower down the card. I didn't even think to look at the bottom, so I guess that's why I had no idea. Anyway, who am I facing?

GI: Well, you're teaming with Blitz against...

Dead: Him again? Really? I don't understand why we've been paired up every week lately.

GI: Well, he's been following you around pretty much everywhere you go.

Dead: That's not true. I haven't seen him in days!

[Instead of responding, the generic interviewer just points over Dead's shoulder. Dead turns around and is startled to see Blitz right behind him.]

Dead: You've gotta stop doing that!

Blitz: Sorry, I was just...

[The Dead turns back to the interviewer.]

Dead: Alright, it's me and the non-rabbit-suited flippy guy. Who are we beating up this week?

GI: Well, your match is against The Midnight Sons.

Dead: Those guys? Again? Didn't we kick their asses already?

Blitz: Yeah! I remember that move I...

Dead: So did they say anything about the match?

GI: As a matter of fact, they did.

[The generic interviewer motions to an extremely well-placed television that is coincidentally showing a clip from the Midnight Sons promo.]

Blitz? Corpesboy? You're gonna learn something that one th' hard way. Me an' Spin, we're the Midnight Sons...And that makes us 100 PROOF...We don't go down easy.

Dead: Now that is fucking funny.

Blitz: Haha, yeah, that's sooooo fu...

Dead: I mean, they do know that 100 proof is only fifty percent, right?

GI: I think what they meant was...

Dead: Fifty percent. I knew those guys weren't as tough as they seemed, and now they've admitted it. They've admitted that they are, combined, half the wrestler I am.

GI: Look, the point was...

[The Dead begins to close the door on the interviewer, but before it closes completely he says...]

Dead: Their words, not mine. Fifty percent.