OOWF MidWeek Mayhem 08-17-05

[mooseheadjack]

<Camby lifts Missy over his shoulder and takes her with him as O'Neill helps Viper back to the locker room.>

Missy - PUT ME DOWN YOU ASSHOLES! HELP! HEEEEELLP!

Camby - Quiet down babe, We're gonna give you enough reason to scream in just a minute.....

O'Neill <Sitting a stunned stuned Viper in a chair> - 'ey 'arper - Who's goin' first? I mean, there is two o us, but only one of 'er.

Camby - Oh, I got first dibs partner. I carried her in, I do her first.

Missy - You son of a bitch <attacks Camby, but O'Neill grabs her> Mark is going to KILL you! You hear me? He's going to get all three of you!

Camby - Wooooooo. Tough talk - you mean the guy who we just left laying in a pool of his own blood? Babe, we're the Devil Brigade - we do what the hell we want, whenever we want to. Get in our way, bad things happen. Ask Semaj B. Besides, you might just want to switch sides after I'm done....

<Camby dropps his pants>

Missy - NO! DON'T! HELP!!!

<Suddenly, there is a roar of an engine, and the Devil's Brigade locker room door EXPLODES off the hinges as a motorcycle bursts through. Wilder bails off the bike, sending it crashing into Camby from behind...>

O'Neill - Wha'the? Punk, I'm gonna kill you this time... <pushes Missy away>

Wilder - Dude, you ain't even gonna reach me....

<A hockey stick cracks down on the back of O'Neill's head, then hooks him in the throat>

JW Westgaard - C'mere ASSHOLE!

<Westgaard give O'Neil a shot in the throat, then sets him up for the ICE AUGER - but as JW drops, Wilder jumps in the air adding his weight and momentum to the move and turns it into a SPIKE AUGER on the concrete floor!>

Camby - <Groggy> Shit, what the hell was that?

Viper - Crap! Get 'em Harper!

<Wilder rolls to his feet, ducking a Camby standing clothesline, and hits his FACEPLANT enzigui on Viper, knocking the leader of the Devil's Brigade over the chair - Westgaard drives the hockey stick into Camby's groin, then DDTs the big man.

Following up in his advantage, Westgaard grabs a steel chair, and drives it into the back of Camby's neck.

With Viper on the ground, Wilder pulls back on both of his arms, and then drills Donnie in the back of the head with the CURBSTOMP, knocking Viper out cold as his head smacks off the floor.

As Camby struggles to his feet, Wilder and Westgaard set up on either side of the powerhouse, and hit the DELAMINATOR - Westgaard delivers an kick to the back of the head, Wilder to the front! Camby's eyes roll up into and he is OUT!>

Missy - OH MY GOD! THANK YOU! Did Mark send you?

Westgaard - What? No. Get out of here. C'mon kid - we got a promo to cut.

<Looks at Camby, pants still around his ankles>

Westgaard - See? THAT'S what happens when you start juicing.....

<SFJ#3 is running toward the sounds of the combat when Westgaard and Wilder come charging down the hall....>

SFJ#3 - HI! I was wondering if I could ask wCw a few questions that their fans have written.....ULP!

<Westgaard grabs the mike from SFJ3>

JW - YOU! <Pointing at SFJ3> GO! YOU! <Points at cameraman> STAY!

Wilder - What the hell, man! I came to OOWF JW hear told me how things broke down, but you know? We tried to keep it squeaky, you know? Take care of business in the ring, give the fans a show, and win match straight edge, you know? Fight hard, but clean.

JW - I've been here a while, and I told the kid, not everyone is gonna do business that way. But Wilder got heart, and underneath that sucidal style, some real skill - I figure he, Cappelan and I can really go places here if we stick together.

Wilder - C'mon man, cut to the chase - with FEW exceptions, has ANYONE ever wrestled us clean? I mean, O'Neill, Camby - all the shit you pull, and you STILL CAN'T BEAT US. Let alone beat us clean!

JW - Calm down Wilder. Look. We want to work our way up the ladder. We'll wrestle anyone - and if we lose, we lose. That happens in this business. But you know what? This getting whacked with a chair, jumped in the FREAKING WOODS, shot at, attacked with barb wire and crap is getting OLD.

Wilder - Preach it Birdman!

Westgaard - Thim, you beat Cap. But you couldn't stop there, you had to try to cripple him. Devils Brigade, you've blown a guy up, jumped people from behind, tried to kil me and the kid. ENOUGH.

Wilder - Dudes, everyone calls me "extreme" like it is some freaking joke. I didn't care man - I make no apologies for how I look, how I act, or how I live - I go all out, on the edge, all the time. But now, I'm gonna take it so freaking far overthe edge that you're gona WISH Wilder was just "extreme"! You though that bulldog off the top of the cage at the PPV was crazy shit? I'm going to make that look like a freaking HEADLOCK.

JW - You want to wrestle us clean, we'll take you on clean. But wCw are NOBODY'S bitches. Cap will be back, and we're gonna take care of business. But this week, we got SoulDragon and Mercury. We haven't forgotten that stunt you pulled last week boys. You best be ready - I'm done taking prisoners.

Wilder - Get ready OOWF fans! IT'S BIG AIR TIME! SD, Mercury - you're lucky!! You get the best seats in the house!

JW - And Camby, O'Neill - we ain't done. You guy's call yourself the Devil's Brigade - We're going to show you that hell is a cold, cold place.

[mooseheadjack]

Missy Lane's in the hallway by herself after being rescued (sort of) by wCw.

ML: Mark? Mark? Where the hell are you?

Corax stands at the end of the hallway.

Cor: You aren't finding any Marks around here, little lady. You aren't leaving here anytime soon. Viper can't afford to lose to your little poster boy again, and we need to have you, ahem, detained for a bit.

ML: I ain't scared of you, you bird-masked freak!

Cor: You don't even know how much of a freak I can b....

Just then, HELLION bursts on to the scene blasting Corax with a clothesline! They begin brawling. All of a sudden, someone quickly comes from behind Missy and grabs her, throwing her into a dark room.

(luckily for us, the cameraman follows them in)

In the dark room is one light. Only the faces of Donovan Viper and Missy Lane are visible. Viper is behind Missy, and speaking into her ear in an slow, evil manner. His eyes are blinking maniacally, from the macing earlier.

DV: Missy, dear Missy. You're so right. I do have issues with your dear Mark having beat me. And that's why I need you. Oh, baby, I really really need you. But I don't think you quite understand what we're talking about here when Corax says 'rape angle'. I'm not just going to rape your body. I'm going to rape your mind and your soul. Mark Vander is going to wish he never, ever crossed me.

Missy says nothing, but an obvious look of fear is in her face. The sound of the door being locked is heard, and the light in the room turns off. The camera feed goes out, and we're left with static.


*******OOC********

MadJack, that was one hell of a promo you just ran against TDB! Intensity in ten cities! But I need Missy back for me and OOMatt's story.

*******back in character********


The static pans out and we see Niles Anderson, Johnny Adrenaline and Attitude Adjuster just finishing watching the monitor.

AA: I thought he was, well, you know.

JA: Well, he's just kind of a big pervert, you know?

AA: Dude, he's crazy. Evil freaking crazy.

NA: Suits me fine. Keeps him focused away from my title, and keeps him from licking my face.

JA: I know we're heels and all, but even what Viper's going to do is dispicable.

NA: So? Let him have his fun with that bitch. As long as he stays out of our business and away from my championship, I could give a rat's ass what happens to who. That's one less person I have to worry about.

JA: Fair enough.

AA: Ever notice that all of us have last names that start with the letter "A"?

JA: Your last name starts with a C.

AA: Not if my last name is Adjuster!

JA: Ok. So does that make us AAA?

AA: Hmm....

Beast: What about me? I'd make us ABBA!

NA: You're all idiots...

[mooseheadjack]

[After Niles walks off in disgust, AA, Adrenaline, and Beast are left standing around.]

JA: So, you cut that promo yet about Moose and Williams' mommas?

AA: I'm still contemplating. I'll come up with something. Look, I'muh go grab a sandwich. That always helps me think.

JA: Good. [AA leaves.] Beast, look man, we gotta get back at those two scumbags for leaving us laying.

B: They didn't leave me laying. I no-sold it.

JA: How come YOU got to no-sell it? Why couldn't I just go to the bar after the cameras stopped rolling? All this "AND THE BEAST POPS OUT..." stuff is getting old, man...

[Beast gets all up in Johnny's grill and Adrenaline backs down.]

JA: But the oldies are goodies, though, man. That works for you. You know what works for me? Putting a beating on Moose and L.D. Are you with me on this?

B: ...

JA: Well...?

B: Look, I'm just here to pimp the shirt. I'll see ya later, Johnny.

[Beast leaves, and Johnny is left alone.]

JA: Jackass... [sigh] I need a drink. I wonder if Naitch can tend bar, too. Hmmm...

[Johnny leaves the scene and we fade to black.]

[mooseheadjack]

*the beast is walking, wearing his new "shit-dick" t-shirt and humming the tune to "dancing queen" when he comes across johnny adrenaline.*

JA: dude, i know you're reference back to a previous segment, but humming dancing queen and wearing a shirt that says "shit-dick" on it, well.... are you sure you're not coming down with a bit of donnie-viper-itis?

B: bite me, shit-dick! any more comments like that i'll be fighting in a handicap match this wednesday, if you catch my drift.

*JA, remembering that beast is not a friend and his involvement in this little stable is purely business related, backs off a bit.*

JA: *ahem* ok, sol, what's up?

B: are we gonna get moose and LD back for jumping us or what? cuz i'm telling ya, i'm not gonna just sit back and wait for the match like i'm some sort of shit-dick.

JA: i know it's your new catch phrase and everything, but man are you saying "shit-dick" alot lately.

B: gotta get the word out. that's how you sell shirts, man. by the way, i've noticed you haven't bought one yet.

JA: oh, i plan to. seriously. i just havent' made it to the merchandise stand yet.

B: i expect to see you wearing one during our match.

JA: sure thing. absolutely. whatever you say.

B: now, back to our problem.

JA: well i think the best way to go would be cutting a promo about their mommas!

B: ucch. you're useless. i'll just take care of this myself.

*just then a guy comes running up to beast holding a box.*

Guy: excuse me! mr. beast! this package just came for you!

B: thanks guy. now get outta here. SCRAM!

*the guy runs off. beast opens up his package and then gets a big smile on his face*

JA: what is it?

B: heh. it's my new iParrot. last one available in all the galaxy, too. this is gonna be hot!

*the beast walks off, fiddling with his new iParrot.*

[mooseheadjack]

Whenever Johnny and Beast decide to stop wandering from place to place, they get back to their locker room to find two t-shirts laid out for them. They look oddly like Beast's new t-shirt but instead they read SHRIVELED DICKS! with the t-shirts is a note

"Thought these t-shirts would be a whole lot more appropriate for you guys to wear to our match. See you in the ring Bitch Boys"

MHJ & LDW

[mooseheadjack]

[Beast and Johnny pick up the shirts and look at them. Johnny holds his up to his chest.]

JA: Man, they got me the wrong size. I need an XL, not just a large.

B: Will you put that shit down?

[Beast snatches Johnny's shirt from him, tosses both shirts in the trash, then barrels thru the locker room wall pissed off.]

JA: Who shit on his dick? ... Or however it goes... Man, NOW I'm gonna get that drink. See if I ever let that idiot sidetrack me again.

[fade to black]

[mooseheadjack]

Underdawg and Phil are still at the bar at Old Crow. They are now the only people in the bar, besides the bartender, as all of the humans have left after the bar fight.

UD: So, a street fight?

Phil: Yar. I be ready fer it. No holds baarrred be my specialty. Yar.

UD: You'll need every trick in the book to beat me, Phil.

Phil: Yar. I don't read books in my galaxy. But I do know a trick or two to teach ye doggy man.

UD: What will you be having?

Phil: Brain Hemmorhage. An you?

UD: Scotch on the rocks.

Phil: Yar, getting actual human brain has been proven to be difficult so far on this world. I thought it'd be much easier, yar. But at least ye have this lovely drink that somewhat resmebles a lovely brain.

UD: You tried to eat mine.

Phil: Ar, that I did, but I can't get past the taste of yer doggy fur. So I suppose we'll just have te battle it out robo-zombie to dog-zombie.

Just then, Johnny Adrenaline walks into the bar looking for a drink.

Phil runs over to Johnny and grabs his head.

*sniff sniff*

Phil: Yar, what's wrong with this man's brain? It be too mushy for me tastes.

UD: He just doesn't use it enough.

JA: Hey hey! Lemee go! I just want a beer!

Phil tosses Johnny Adrenaline out onto the street.

Phil: Yar, I reckon we'll just stay 'ere til Mayhem an drink ourselves silly, yes?

UD: Sounds good to me. I've been having a terrible week after being trapped in that net.

[mooseheadjack]

[Johnny Adrenaline picks himself off the sidewalk and brushes himself off. He mumbles something, and crosses traffic and walks back into the arena. There, he runs into Attitude Adjuster, carrying a huge sandwich.]

JA: Headin back to the hotel?

AA: Hell yes. Man, Naitch is on a roll today. You need to get you one of these. Man, you should've seen the ones he made for Ax and Cole. They were like this... [does generic hand signs for "big"]

JA: Do you know if Naitch serves drinks?

AA: I don't think so. There's like a drink table across the way, but it's only like Coke and Gatorade and stuff...

JA: Shit... you cut that promo yet?

AA: No man, I'm still working on it.

JA: Look, nothing will make my day more than an AA promo on Moose and L.D.'s mothers. They deserve that, man!

AA: I know, I know. Look, get back with me later and we'll get you that drink. I gotta go prepare for my Intercontinental Title match.

[AA takes off, leaving Johnny still pissed off.]

[mooseheadjack]

Johnny storms through the arena, still looking for a drink, he gets to his locker room opens the door and flicks on the lights and there stands a 1500 LB Moose grazing in his gym bag. Johnny watches in horror as the Moose chews a mouth ful of his ring tights, then reaches down and takes a bite out of one of his boots. Johnny slowly backs away from the door and into the hallway. when he turns to walk away there stand Moose and LD Williams with evil grins on their faces.

Johnny lets a few swear words fly until he hears the moose snort and start to get upset, then he turns and just walks away

[mooseheadjack]

[Johnny Adrenaline is seen storming down a hotel hallway. He comes across a room, with the door cracked. Johnny barges in to find Attitude Adjuster wearing nothing but a towel, receiving a massage from a hot blonde fitness trainer and eating his sandwich, all while Cameraman Blackey Dragon and Invisible Ninja Cameraman record the proceedings.]

AA: Whoa, whoa, Johnny!! You can't just run up in here like this?

JA: The door was cracked.

AA: [turns to BD] Did you do this?

BD: It was him. [points at Invisible Ninja Cameraman]

AA: [points other way] He's over there, moron. Johnny, what's the matter, man? You look like you just came face to face with an elk or something.

JA: I got Moose and Williams on my ass. They lay me out earlier. Then I go back to the locker room and a damn Moose was eating my tights...

AA: Moose was eating articles of clothing? I knew something wasn't right about that guy...

JA: No, A.C. A moose! The animal? The it got pissed and about charged at me! And Moose and L.D. sit back and laugh. I swear I'm gonna get those bastards!

AA: Where's Beast?

JA: Shit, I don't know. He's pissed at me cause I wouldn't wear his shirt or something. Went thru a wall.

AA: Where the hell is Niles?

JA: I don't know. Being the champ. He's good at that.

AA: Well, where is...

JA: There's nobody left. Just me and you, man.

AA: Get back with me Johnny. I'm getting a rubdown and preparing for my Intercontinental Title match. Did I tell you I have a title match this week? Wait down in the lobby and I'll be down in a bit.

JA: Have that promo ready.

AA: You betcha.

[Johnny leaves.]

[mooseheadjack]

(The camera pans slowly around a doctor's office, where various people are taking advantage of Canada's free health care system. Mark Vander stares at the ground in shock while Alex Bensouir pokes at his injuries.)

Mark: Ow. Knock it off. Alex, we've gotta figure out what they did with her. Where they took her. I mean, we can't just let them...have their way with her.

Alex: Sure we can.

Mark: What? You can't be....

Alex: She was old news, kid. I can find a hundred girls hotter than her. We'll ride to the ring carried by hot girls on a platform made out of a bunch of hot girls all glued together. We'll dress you up in Hawaiian shirts and call you “Malibu Mark Vander.”

Mark: Alex, this is SERIOUS!

Alex: Ok, then forget the Hawaiian shirts. Black’s more slimming anyway.

(Mark grabs a small, decorative bronze statue of a dog, and wails Alex with it.)

Nurse: The doctor will see you, eh. (noticing the bloody wounds on both men). Uh…which one of you is Mark?

Mark: I’m Mark, but he’s your patient now. I’ve got some business to take care of.

(Later that day, Mark storms…er…limps into The Rick’s office. Blood dripping out of a cut under his eye, he slams his hands on Rick’s desk.)

Rick: Oh, Erlana, I love it when you pla…oh, it’s you. What do you want.

Mark: One of your workers has kidnapped a member of my management team, and is threatening to rape her! What do I want?! I WANT DONOVAN VIPER AND I WANT HIM NOW GODDAMMIT!

Rick: Well…See…here’s the thing. I’m kind of “On Vacation” right now (Rick points to a sign above his head that says, “The Rick is OUT”), so I can’t tell you anything conclusive until next week, see. And besides that, I’m pretty sure kidnapping and rape is outside my jurisdiction. But feel free to take a bottle of Corona on your way out.

(Rick puts a pair of sunglasses on, and leans back in his chair. Vander leaps across the desk and grabs Rick by the throat, but the jump reinsures his bruised ribs, and so he is left gasping, wheezing, and dripping blood at Rick)

Rick: Really, this isn’t very professional. If you have business with me, leave a message.

Mark: Here’s your message:

(Mark spits a wad of blood onto Rick’s desk, writes “Fuck you“ in blood across it, and crawls out of the office. Meanwhile, elsewhere….)

Alex: Yeah. I dunno, I’m in the middle of Bumfuck, Canada. Yeah, I think it’s weird they’d name a town “Bumfuck” too. Maybe it’s French or something. Well yeah, my parents were French, but I never learned any of that crap. Yeah. Hey, can you hold Missy’s appointments for the next few days? Uh-huh. No, I don’t know. I guess she’s been kidnapped by some rappers or something. Yeah. Mark’s really stressed out about it. We’ve gotta get that guy to a spa or something. He hit me with a dog. No, I’m not really sure whose dog it was. I dunno, I wanna say a Shar-Pei. Are Shar-Peis the ones with the really hard skin? (Alex turns and sees Viper’s promo playing on a Television set in one of the shop windows. He nearly drops the phone.) He-hello? I’m gonna have to call you back. Yeah. Well, it turns out Donovan Viper is a rapper. Uh-huh. (He ends the call, and frantically flips through his address book. Split screen camera coverage of Rick’s office and Bensouir follows)

Rick: Yello, this is the office of The Rick, I’m afraid I’m out of the office, can I take a message?

Alex: Rick, this is very important. It’s like an emergency. More like an emergency emergency!

Rick: (Rick takes a sip from his glass of whisky, thinks on things for a second, and sets it inside the O) So…you want me to leave him a message for him telling him that there’s an emergency then?

Alex: Just LISTEN will you? I need the phone number for the camera guy covering the Viper thing. I need to know where they’re at! And I need to know NOW!

Rick: Hmmm…that was pretty long. Let me get a pen.

(Frustrated, Bensouir throws the phone down in disgust. It is run over, in short order, by a beer delivery truck. Bensouir looks on in horror. The driver gets out.)

Driver: That was a pretty phone you just threw under there, eh? Musta cost you $10,000?

Alex: I need to borrow your truck!

Driver: Oh, I don’t know about that….

Alex: It’s an emergency! I’m The Mountie!

(Alex grabs the keys out of the befuddled driver’s hands, and jumps into the truck, barreling full speed ahead towards the arena to try to find out where the camera crew that’s taping Viper is.)

Driver: God bless our police force, eh.

Camera Guy (on his phone talking to Viper’s Camera Crew): Dude, I saw that! Nice work, man. Hey, look, Bensouir is headed for the arena, you think you could get some shots of him arriving. Well, I mean, it’s no big deal, but he went all out and stole a beer truck. Yeah. I know. He’s trying to get a hold of you, you know. I don’t know why he didn’t ask me.

(At the arena, Mark Vander crawls through the halls. Suddenly, he stops, drags himself to his feet, and punches a pane of glass. Glass shards and gobs of blood cover his hand as the building's sprinklers pour rain down on his head. Mark shambles forward, zombie-like, towards the exit, holding in his hands a fireman’s axe. Elsewhere, in his office, Rick opens an umbrella and takes another sip of whiskey.)

[mooseheadjack]

*Stank and FF Capslock leave the arena and head for the local bar.*

Stank - It was nice of wCw to send us help.

FFC - I don't know why we left our bags back at the car.

Stank - I told you already. They pissed ALL OVER our clothes.

FFC - Oh yeah. I forgot... It's too bad not all the OOWF merchandise trucks have made it here yet. I think these T-Shirts look ridiculous.

Stank - At least they were able to find some coats and pants to fit us. C'mon it's late. Let's get a drink then find a room at the hotel. I got the number of the tow truck driver and will give him a call after I have a drink. We shoul... Whoa.

*The tag champs arrive at the bar and see all the busted furniture within. They also see Underdawg and Phil at the bar getting shitfaced. Stank and FFC take off their coats to reveal "Shit Dick" T-shirts and sit at the end of the bar.*

FFC - Geez. Usually WE'RE the ones wrecking bars and stuff. You think those two were responsible for this?

Stank - Who cares? I just wanna beer and ... *vibrate* *vibrate* hang on. Let me see who this is...hello?

Attitude Adjuster - STANK! BUDDY! listen. I'm putting the finishing touches on the promo I'll be cutting on Moosehead Jack and LD Williams. The promo mentions a lot of bad things about their mothers but, I was thinking that - to bring it home - I would finish with some scathing "your momma" jokes.

Stank - Who is this?

AA - It's me AA. Don't act like you don't know me. Anyway... remember your old gimmick where all your promos would degenerate down to "your momma" jokes? Those were CLASSIC! You think you could help me with some for my promo?

Stank - How'd you get this number?

AA - SFJ#5 gave it to me... So whaddaya say?

Stank - Yeah um... Now's not a really good time.

AA - C'mon Stank! Just one joke!

Stank - *sigh* Your momma's like a 747... A 3 man cock pit!

AA - ooooooh burn! Thanks Stank! I'll see if that works.

*Stank ends the call*

FFC - I thought you said you were done with the Yo momma jokes? Who was that?

Stank - I don't know... Canadian Bulldog maybe.

[mooseheadjack]

The Team From Down Under is hanging out in the bar of their hotel room with Wally B. King and many of his lovely ladies. Wally's cell phone rings

Wally: Hello, Wally B. King.

Yes I do specialize in female entertainment.

I see, big spender, aye?

I think we can arrange something Mr. Caligis. I'll be over there in a few. (hangs up the phone)

Well boys I'm going to have to take off for a bit. I have an eccentric millionaire willing to part ways with a lot of cash to secure the night with 6 of my finest ladies. Enjoy your evening.

OJ: Will do

GB: No prob Wally.

***************

(Wally and six ladies arrive at Room 669.)

Wally: Room 669, damn I like that. There are six of you and well the rest is pretty self explanatory.

(Wally knocks on the door, it opens)

Wally: Mr. Caligis today is your lucky day.

Voice: Is it boyo?

(Wally is dropped to the ground by a wicked left hook. The girls all scream and run down the halls. Tommy O'Neill and Harper Camby stand over King.)

HC: You have some really stupid, fine piece of ass. Now get up. (Harper lifts up King who is trying to cling to consciousness.)

TO: Til ya frinds thot me an 'Arpa guna fekkin bit the piss ot dem.

WBK: I don't understand a word your saying.

HC: Tell your friends that this is what they have in their future.

(TDB lifts up WBK and delivers a nasty Triple 6 through a desk. Wally is motionless. The Devil's Brigade walks out of the room and closes the door. Harper looks at the numbers on the door and he turns the last number around and he and Tommy laugh and walk off. The camera zooms in on the door and the numbers 666.)

[mooseheadjack]

**Moosehead jack and L.D. Williams are walking down the arena hallway**


LD: “Well, I think we got Johnny’s attention.”

MHJ: “1500 pounds of moose will tend to do that.”

LD: “But now we really have to worry about retaliation.”

MHJ: “From Johnny?”

LD: “Actually I’m more worried about AA.”

MHJ: “Haven’t you been paying attention? AA is going to cut a promo about our mothers.”

LD: “Exactly. This is not good Jack.”

MHJ: “You don’t strike me as the type to be sensitive to ‘your momma’ jokes.”

LD: “I’m not…Mother is”

MHJ: <laughs> “You’re worried about your mother…”

LD: “Jack, you know how tough I am.”

MHJ: “Yeah.”

LD: “And you know that nothing scares me.”

MHJ: “Yeah.”

LD: “Well, if AA makes jokes about my mother, I’m going to find a nice dark corner to hide in, and I suggest you do the same.”

MHJ: “You really don’t think your mother would come down here…”

LD: “Jack, she would, she will, and she’ll make anything we could even think about doing to AA look like massage therapy.”

[mooseheadjack]

[Meanwhile, in a nearby hotel lobby, Attitude Adjuster steps out of an elevator, followed by Cameraman Blackey Dragonowski and Invisible Ninja Cameraman. AA meets Johnny Adrenaline at a breakfast table.]

JA: Damn man, you said you'd be right down. That was 12 hours ago. Lucky me, the lady at the desk didn't see me fall asleep on that couch over there. And better yet, I got free breakfast out of the deal.!

AA: [grabs a doughnut] Did you ever get that drink last night?

JA: Hell no. I wasn't goin back to that bar with Phil and Underdawg! Them two crazy bastards. Not alone anyway...

AA: Yeah, sorry about that. I was... uh... um... I fell asleep.

JA: Bullshit, man. I saw that chick. You didn't fall asleep...

AA: [turns to BD] You got all that on tape, right?

BD: Oh yeah.

AA: [to Invisible Ninja Cameraman] And you got him getting it on tape, right?

INC: ...

AA: Good.

JA: You ready to go to the arena and cut that promo on Moose and L.D.'s mommas?

AA: [takes bite of doughnut, then talks with mouth full] Not quite yet, but I'll let you know. We gotta do this one right.

JA: [rubbing hands together] Oh man, this is gonna be good!

[fade to black]

[mooseheadjack]

MHJ: Did you see that?

LDW: See what?

MHJ: Johnny and AA are cutting promos about cutting promos!

LDW: That's pretty weak.

MHJ: Yeah. Let's see, I think we have Johnny' attention, think we should make sure we have Beast's attention?

LDW: We could do that, but I have a better idea.

<LDW whispers something to Moose, they both grin and walk away>

[mooseheadjack]

After breakfast, AA heads to the hotel pool. Somehow, the horribly cold weather has turned sunny and warm. AA is lounging by the pool, reading the paper. Sitting next to him is SFJ #27.

SFJ#27: The entire OOWF lockerroom, and now also LD Wiliams' mother, anxiously awaits Attitude Adjuster's scathing promo on Mooseheadjack and LD Williams' mothers. We're here live at poolside with Attitude Adjuster. How's the promo coming along?

AA: Well, No. 27, it's coming along pretty well. I've crafted the storyboard and found the proper location for the promo. Now I just have to get in the right mood.

SFJ#27: So when should we expect your promo to drop?

AA: First off, Blackey, heh! You're doing a fine job with that camera, but you're blocking the sun. I need the proper tan to cut this promo, you know.

Via the Invisible Ninja Cameraman, we watch Blackey move out of AA's sun.

BD: There. You happy now?!

AA: Yes, that's much better. You shouldn't be so tense, Blackey. You'll never become an Invisible Ninja Cameraman with that kind of attitude. Now then, the promo will be cut when the promo is cut. You do not rush the promo. Promo's aren't created, they just are.

An adoring fan rushes up to Attitude Adjuster with a program and a pen.

AF: I really love you, AA. You're going to be the greatest Intercontinental Title champion ever...well, except for Johnny Adrenaline. But definitely better than Concrete TG or Blackdragon. Can you sign this program?

BD: Dude, that's not a fan! That's just Johnny Adrenaline in drag! This sucks!

AA: Can someone do something about this guy?

AF: I'll do it for you! (The Adoring Fan nails BD with the ADRENALINE RUSH!!!)

SFJ#27: Hmmm, I notice this program shows a picture of Blackdragon without his Intercontinental Title belt. Is this fortelling some OOWF conspiracy? This is SFJ#27 with breaking news: Attitude Adjuster has already won the Intercontinental Championship!!!!! Wow, I've covering the champ! I'm covering the champ!!!!

AA (to Johnny Adrenaline, who's taking off his wig): We've done a lot of stupid shit, but this really takes the cake.

[mooseheadjack]

*the beast is walking around listening to his brand new iParrot (last one available in the galaxy, you know). he see's moose and LD williams whispering to each other. beast takes off his headphones and walks over to them*

B: hey there, jerk-fags.

MHJ: jerk-fags?

B: eh. the shit-dick t-shirt is such a success, i'm trying some new phrases out. gotta keep that market fresh, ya know. so... jerk-fags... not so hot?

MHJ: yeah... i wouldn't go with that one.

LDW: i like the jerk part, but the fag part might be taking it a bit far.

B: i see your point.

MHJ: so what do you want anyway?

B: alright. well look, we got this whole thing going. you jumped us, johnny and AA are getting ready to cut a promo about your moms, you guys are whispering. this thing's just on the cusp of getting really out of hand.

MHJ: you got that right. i've never known whispering to not lead to things getting out of hand.

B: exactly. so i thought i'd come and have some words with you before we get to that point.

LDW: okay...... well, what do you want to say?

B: THIS!!!

*the beast grab's moose and LD's heads and smashes them together, dropping them to the floor. beast continues to kick and beat them for a few minutes till their a bloody mess on the floor.

B: HA! i love it! it's like i'm not even wearing this black bracelet! PEOPLE ARE SO DUMB!



SHIT-DICKS!!!


*beast exits through a nearby wall and the camera pans down and fades out as we see moose and LD lying in their own blood.*

[mooseheadjack]

<Moose and LD Williams are lying on the floor wiping the blood from their faces and a conversation ensues!>

MHJ: Man, how did we not see THAT coming?

LDW: I dunno, what color bracelet do you have?

MHJ: Black, of course.

LDW: Yeah, me too. Are heels supposed to be able to do that to each other?

MHJ: Not usually, but we DID beat him down earlier so at least it sort of makes sense.

LDW: Yeah but he no sold our attack and went to fight with UnderDawg and Phil in the bar, think we should no sell this too.

MHJ: Nah, we start doing that and people are going to start expecting us to no sell semi truck accidents and getting dropped from a crane and all that.

LDW: You got a point, so we sell this then?

MHJ: Yeah for a little bit at least

<with that Moose and LD Williams both collapse to the concrete floor apparantly out cold>

****************
6:30 pm

<LD Williams looks at his watch>

LDW: Hey Moose, we've been selling this for like two and a half hours and nothing is going on, think that is enough?

MHJ: Yeah, enough of that <both men get up brushing themselves off> Let's go pay a little visit to AA

<time passes and we see AA lounging on a deck chair by the pool, laying on his stomach, he is in a deep sleep. Johnny Adrenaline is nowhere to be seen, Jack and Williams creep up to AA, motion for the cameraman, the ninja cameraman, and the SFJ27 to be quiet. Williams grabs the tube of sun screen and writes something on AA's back. Jack and Williams look at their handiwork, grin and leave. The camera pans around and we see BITCH BOY written in sunscreen on AA's back. The cameraman tries to stifle a laugh>

LDW: That'll teach him to think about cutting promos on our mommas

MHJ: One more stop to go, what was that bar called that Dawg and Phil are hanging in?

LDW: I think it was the Old Crow's Nest or something like that.

MHJ: good, I have a feeling we'll find Beast there

<Fade>

*********************
8:01 pm

<Moose and Williams walk into the wreckage of the Old Crow's Nest Bar, sitting at one table are Phil and UnderDawg, both have obvioulsy been drinking pretty long judging from the beer bottles and liquor bottles strewn about. In front of them stands Beast bragging about his iParrot and him being the #2 SUPERIOR WRESTLER IN THE OOWF! >

B: So SHIT-DICKS! I am the #2 SUPERIOR WRESTLER IN THE OOWF, I beat both your sorry asses last week, and I took the money I made from that and bought the LAST EVAR iParrot in the UNIVERSE! Whaddya think of that SHIT-DICKS! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

UD: I think you have about two seconds to turn around and leave before I beat your ass into the ground

Phil: YAR! What he said! And you be owin' me an iParrot! Tis the least you can be doin for destroyin' mine and makin' me ride around with yer skid marked skivvies, yar!

B: Well, that ain't gonna happen, infact, where's my net?

<Beast turns around to look for his net, when he does Moose and Williams crunch his head with a con-chair-to (why are there steel folding chairs ina bar? Don't ask) Beast staggers backward, UD jumps to his feet, grabs Beast by the throat and chokeslams him through the table. Phil adds a Cybernetic 360 Splash for good measure. Phil grabs Beast's iParrot>

P: Yar, I'll be takin' this from you Beastie! Yar.

<UD, Jack, LDW and Phil trap Beast in the net and hang him from the ceiling>

UD: Looks like we are the only ones left, hell even the bartender left. How bout a drink guys?

MHJ: Uh, is that guy gonna try to eat our brains?

LDW: Yeah, cause I don't play that shit.

<everyone looks at Phil>

P: YAr! Ok, I'll give ya a free pass this time, ya helped me get my iParrot back. Yar!

B: <coming to> Hey guys, you gonna let me out of here?

All: NO!

<fade out>

[mooseheadjack]

Capslock & Stank find another bar nearby to drink in. Stank is downing his 21st Long Island Ice Tea while Capslock is poking some guys in the corner.

FFC- HEY! You...guys are a band, huh? How good are ya? Huh!? How good are...ya? Are you good? ARE THESE GUYS ANY GOOD!? Hey man, how good are ya?

Guy- Please leave us alone. We'll play in a few minutes and you'll know if we're any good.

FFC- I WANNA KNOW NOW SHIT-DICK! That's really catchy. Hey, write a song called shit-dick. If you're any good. How good are ya?

Stank- Hey man, what's going on over here?

FFC- THRESE dudes...are a band...HOW! EVER! I can't get a strait answer out of my new pal piss-brick here.

Guy- Isn't it shit-dick?

FFC- YOU'D KEEP YOUR GARSH DORN MOUTH QUIET LEST I BEAT YOU UP REALL BADLY!

Stank- Did you say "threse" a while ago?

FFC- Yeah...so...

Stank- Just checking.

They then beat the shit out of the band and fall asleep on the floor.

[mooseheadjack]

(scene continues from MHJ's post)

*underdawg goes behind the bar and grabs 4 ice cold bottles of beer. beast is hanging in the net.*

B: drinkin' bottles, huh?

UD: what's it to you?

B: oh nothing. just thought you might go for drafts. doesn't really matter.

MHJ: what's with the smrik on your face?

PH: yea, why be ya smilin' thar?

B: nothin. no reason.

LDW: i dont trust him!

UD: thanks capt. obvious.

MHJ: but what could he be up to? he's in a net and right in front of us.

PH: yar, i be thinkin it's safe ta drink our beers.

*they all put their hands on the cap of their beers, ready to pop them off, all the while keeping an eye on the beast. as their hands get closer to the cap, the smile on beast's face get's bigger.*

UD: WAIT!!! no one open their beer!!

MHJ: huh?

UD: dont you get it? he wants us to open our beers. that's why he was surprised we were having bottles. dont you see? as soon as one of opens our beer he'll POP OUT of it and be free of the net!

PH: yar! a most devilish sceme if i ever be hearin one!

MHJ: good thinking, underdawg. maybe we should go for drafts.

LDW: i'll pour!

*williams hops over the bar, grabs a pint glass and put's it under the tap.*

UD: NO, WAIT DONT!

*but it's too late. LD pulls the tap and THE BEAST POPS OUT!!*

B: HA! you SHIT-DICKS! buy my shirt!!

LDW: whoops.

B: and you, gimme that iParrot!

*beast grabs the iParrot off of phil.*

B: YOINK!

*beast crashes his way out of the bar and runs away.*

UD: that's it. i'm not hanging out with people anymore.

[mooseheadjack]

*Hardbody Harris is hang gliding for no reason. Next to him on another hang glider is SFJ 45 ½..*

SFJ: Hardbody, what do you have to say about your outstanding victory in match one of the best of seven series with Chris Alt?

HH: Well, I am the SUPERIOR WRESTLER after all. Alt is great, but I don’t see him winning this. I’m betting this goes maybe 5 matches, 6 if we fight in the South somewhere, giving him home field advantage. I mean, this is all natural and non premeditated, so I highly doubt there will be a seven matches. What are the odds of that happening?

SFJ: Well, 25%. There are only four ways to end this series: four, five, six, or seven matches. Unless there’s overtime or something.

HH: ...

SFJ: I’m the smart journalist. I went to Cornell.

HH: Ah.

SFJ: Any words for Chris Alt?

HH: Yeah. Where the fuck are you? Seriously. I’m trying to have a feud here. But I like the guy. And I can’t embarrass him for no reason (other than in the ring) unless he says something. And I’m going to be fighting him for at least another month, so we have to start something. Come on, PRIME TIME, do something!

SFJ: So is that it?

HH: For him, yeah. Meanwhile, though, I think I’ll just drop in on some other feuds and promos. I have no reason to, and I won’t be wrestling anyone, but with this hang glider and my supply of heelstrong and facestrong bracelets, I’m sure to start some fun. Oh, look—a local bar. I wonder if other fun wrestlers are there...

*Hardbody descends down to the bar to check out the scene...

[mooseheadjack]

*Chris Alt is hanging out at the bar, drunkenly brooding over a frothy Guiness when unbeknownst to him Hardbody Harris walks in and stands apprehensively behind him, trying to decide whether he should sit down with CA or not. Eight empty pint glasses sit on the bar beside CA, who seems to be wavering on the barstool. A good-looking, rather chesty waitress approaches CA*

Waitress: Are you doing alright, sir?

CA (gasps): TIG OL BITTIES!!

W: EXCUSE me?

CA: Tig Ol Bitties?

W: You son of a bitch! You have no right-

CA: Rub em... in my FAYCHE.

HH (walking up to the scene): Excuse me, miss. He's harmless. Don't mind him, he just has an appreciation for large breasts and no tact when he's drunk.

CA: Hardbody Harrish! And hish twin... brother guy. Niche to meet you both.

HH: Uhhh... it's just me, Chris.

CA: Nonshenshe. I shee quite plainly... there ish two of you. And guessh what?

HH: What?

CA (points at the ceiling above the waitress): Look at the funbags on that hoshehound.

W: I should have him thrown out of this bar!

HH: No, he's right. You do have some wicked awesome dirty pillows.

W: BASTARDS!

(W stomps off)

HH: Where've ya been, dude? You've been totally quiet lately. You show up at the arena, you wrestle, you go home. No quirky promos. No trying to peek in the Sexy Female Journalists' locker room. No refereeing the epic hopscotch encounters between myself and Canadian Dragon. You haven't even urinated on Donovan Viper's gym bag while he's in the ring lately. You're not yourself anymore, Chris. What's wrong with you, man?

CA: I've been... bishy.

HH: Bishy with... er, I mean, busy with what?

CA: I'm shleepy.

HH: Chris, focus.

CA (lays his head on HH's shoulder): Zzzzzzzzzzz

HH: Oh, this is just great. WAKE UP!!

CA: Erf. Wha-? Hey! It'sh Hardbody Harrish!

HH: Yep, it's me alright. Maybe I should help you get back to your room.

CA: No. I don't want to go there. Donovan Viper keepsh peeking in my window and touching himshelf. Maybe you should take me... to Wal-Mart.

HH: To Wal-Mart? What for?

CA: Becaushe getting drunk and going to Wal-Mart is what we do in Arkanshaw to keep ourshelvesh from getting bored. Plush, think of the fun we could have.

HH: ...

CA: Pleashe?

HH: Bartender! I need four tequila shots and directions to Wal-Mart.

*scene fades to black*

[mooseheadjack]

*Stank gets up off the floor and surveys the surrounding scene.*

Stank - Ohhhhhh what happened? No more Long-Island Iced Teas for me ever.

*Stank pokes at his partner on floor.*

FF Capslock - *Snort* *Cough* wha.. What? Gimmie five more minutes.

Stank - Wake up sleepyhead! It's 4 in the morning. I'm going to the Hotel.

*FFC sits up rubbing his eyes. Stank stumbles over to the bar and spies the four band members out cold by their instruments.*

Stank - I vaguely remember beating those guys up.

*FFC looks over at the band*

FFC - Yeah... we did that. Pretty mild compared to our normal routine.

Stank - I think I recall the other bar being smashed up prior to our arrival.

FFC - Phil and Underdawg were there. They're lowsy drunks. Yar this and Yar that. That's why we came here.

Stank - I don't think the band ever did play.

FFC - They just sat there and gave me lip.

Stank - Oh NOW I remember. You started fighting them then I joined in. Then... I fell asleep. Damn my back is stiff from lying there.

*Stank wanders over to the band and picks up a guitar.*

FFC - You know how to play that thing?

Stank - I was only tought one song.

*The big man strums a few chords then begins to sing.*

Stank - I'm a cowboy... on a STEEL horse I RIIIDE. And I'm wanted... dead or ALIIIIIIIVE.

FFC -

Stank - What can I say? It was the 80's. It was the only song my teacher tought me.

FFC - How horrible for you.

Band leader - Yeah dude that sucked.

Stank - What did you say to me?

BL - Uh... nothin.

*Stank KABONGS the band leader with his guitar.*

Stank - Everybody's a critic. No one asked you to wake up anyway. C'mon Lock let's get to the hotel. I need to get some real sleep. I'm starting to see things.

FFC - Like what?

Stank - I swear I just saw a hang glider park itself in front of the bar across the street.

[mooseheadjack]

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AA runs out of the bathroom screaming and wearing only a towel around his waist. We know this because cameraman Blackey Dragonowski is following him out of the bathroom.

Someone wrote "Bitch Boy" on my back in sunscreen and now it's tanned into my back! Blackey, who did this???

BD: I dunno.

AA: What do you mean "I dunno"??

BD: That means I don't know who did it.

AA: But weren't you filming?

BD (stifling laughter): I guess I fell asleep.

AA: Damn it, this is going to affect the promo. I was going to go to the ring without a shirt on. Now I need a shirt that reflects AA's incredible talents. Why don't I have my own T-shirt anyway? Man, that's one more thing I have to put on the To Do list.

AA turns on the telvision, clicks the OOWF-TV button and watches the latest happenings on OOWF-TiVo. Mysteriously, the scene where someone writes "Bitch Boy" on his back in sunscreen is missing.

AA: What the hell?

BD: Hmm, kinda like the Nixon tapes, huh?

AA: Shut up, you punk, and hand me the phone.

AA dials the phone.

AA: Hello, Acme Midget Wrestler Company? I need three midgets to be sent to this week's OOWF Midweek Mayhem...Yeah, I know the price for midgets is expensive...Look, I don't care about the cost. Midgets in wrestling are guaranteed funny, and I have to cut a killer promo this week...Address? I don't know. Just tell them to find Midweek Mayhem. Call The Rick and ask him...Yes, it's just "The Rick."...First name "The," last name "Rick."...On vacation? Look just get the midgets to Midweek Mayhem by Wednesday, OK? Shit dick...

SFJ#27 (sitting on the couch filing her nails): Do you ever work out or anything?