OOWF MidWeek Mayhem 09-14-05

[mooseheadjack]

OOWF MidWeek Mayhem!
Live From Bonesteel, South Dakota!

OOWF World Title Steel Cage Match[/u]
Niles Anderson vs. Microplay

OOWF Intercontinental Title Match[/u]
Blackdragon vs. LD Williams

OOWF Onslaught Championship Match[/u]
Firechild vs. GimmickMan

Non-Title No DQ I Quit Match[/u]
3Piece Set vs. Drink & Destroy

Best of Seven Series – Match Seven[/u]
Chris Alt vs. Hardbody Harris

Steel Cage Match [/u]
UnderDawg vs. Donovan Viper

Sioux Warrior Strap Match[/u]
Johnny Adrenaline & Attitude Adjuster vs. The Establishment

2 out of 3 Falls Onslaught Rules Match - Winner gets an Onslaught Title Shot at Hell on Earth[/u]
Thim Reynolds vs. Capellan

wCw vs. Dr. Murder & Mikey Styner
Corax vs. Mr. Jealous
Eric O’Mac vs. Hellion
Phil vs. Beast – stips TBA
Canadian Dragon vs. Uncle Entity
The Devil’s Brigade vs. The Team From Down Under - #1 Contender Qualifier Match*
Moosehead Jack & Concrete TG vs.SoulDragon & Mercury - #1 Contenders Qualifier Match*

*The winner of each match will meet later that night to determine the #1 contender to the OOWF tag team titles

Homeland Security has declared this card subject to change

[mooseheadjack]

Alt v. Harris Best of Seven Series: Chuck E. Cheese Edition!!!

*Hardbody Harris, Chris Alt, and Fievel are sitting down in the dining area of Chuck E. Cheese. Alt munches on some breadsticks while Hardbody cuts Fievel's pizza into tiny edible bites*

HH: So, we went over an hour at our match this week. I'd say that's pretty tubular.

CA: Yeah...especially since I won.

*Hardbody stops cutting Fievel's food and looks at Chris.*

HH: I have to admit, you've done a nice job of catching up. After all, I won the first match, and then I won three before you even won two. We're best friends and all, but it's obvious that I'm destined to win this match.

*Alt scoots in at the table and points his half-eaten breadstick at Harris*

Alt: Is that so? It seems to me that I'm on a roll. We're all tied up, and the last two matches have been in my favor. I'd say bet the farm on Chris Alt this Wednesday.

HH: Fievel... go play while your pizza cools down. Me and Uncle Chris have business to take care of.

*Fievel runs off and crawls in and out of the shoe holding shelves by the ball pit. Several children are frightened*

HH: So, you think you're better than me, eh? You think you have this best of seven series all wrapped up now that you're on a winning streak?

CA: I wouldn't say that. All I know is that you've been a little too cocky since you went up 3-1 on me. You're going to fall apart worse than the Yankees last year. I think maybe you've spent too much time coloring and riding bikes and not enough in the gym to keep up with me.

HH: HEY! I colored those pictures for you! I'm sorry if the only way I can draw a tree is to put a hole in the trunk. Why the hell does everyone do that, anyway? How many holey trees are there? Anyway, that's not the point. Chris, even though you're my best friend, I have to say, I've always been one step better than you.

CA: Oh, this oughtta be rich. Especially since we've only been Best Friends a month. Tell me, Hardbuddy, what are you better than me at?

*Hardbody is about to speak, but he stops and looks around. His eyes dart back and forth, and a smile runs across his face.*

HH: Chris, I bet you that I can beat you at the first ever CHUCK E. CHEESE BEST OF SEVEN MATCHUP. Skeeball, Air hockey, whatever crap they have here, I'm better than you.

CA: Ha! This is going to be over in four. What do I get when I win?

HH: (leans in close and whispers) All...my...tickets.

*Hardbody pulls a briefcase from under the table. He opens it up. Inside are approximately 949,928 tickets from a variety of games.*

CA: CHRIST! That's almost enough to buy a whole BOX of Airhead candy!

HH: It is. And if you beat me, it's yours. And if I win, I want...the other blue handlebar tassel from your bike.

CA: But I bought the white ones because I thought you liked them!

HH: I do. You know me well. But I want the blue ones, too. What, are you worried that you're going to lose?

CA: Fine. You're on. I can't wait to trade those tickets in for some sweet-ass stickers that I'm NOT going to share with YOU!

HH: Let's do it!

*Alt and Hardbody shake hands and stare each other down.

Alt and Harris: Best of Seven Chuck E. Cheese Challenge Round 1: Air Hockey (first point wins/sudden death rules)

Alt and Hardbody are on different sides of the table eyeing each other. The puck is in the middle to start. The friends push their paddles to the middle and start out on fire. Alt is in control first, slamming the puck across the surface and almost scoring. It bounces off the back and comes back, and Alt slams it again. Major ricochet action and Harris makes the save. Harris is on offense now, hitting a shot into the corner and causing Alt to move his paddle from in front of the goal. He misses the puck, which goes back to Hardbody who tries to take advantage and rifle a shot to Alt’s goal. Primetime is back in time to make the save. Puck floats toward the middle and Hardbody and Alt anxiously go for it. CA gets there first and snipes a shot off the side wall at a perfect geometric angle. He got himNO HE DIDN’T! Hardbody’s paddle is holding the puck from the goal by the slimmest of margins. That was a close one. HH wipes his brow and steadies himself, trying a hard, accurate shot. Easy save for Alt. Back and forth action for awhile in this defensive struggle. Finally, Alt makes a mistake and the puck slides easily into Harris’s zone. Harris stops the puck, runs his paddle in circles around the puck which TOTALLY disorient Alt and allow HH to hit a laser into the corner of the goal.

WINNER in 12:31 Hardbody Harris (Harris leads series 1-0)

After the game, Hardbody stands on top of the air hockey table and calls for the waitress to throw him pitchers of Pink Lemonade. He smashes them together and pours them down his face to the delight of the fans He shouts.

HH: I’m the #1 AIR HOCKEY PLAYER IN THE OOWF!

Alt shakes his head and we move to the next challenge.

Alt and Harris: Best of Seven Chuck E. Cheese Challenge Round 2: Hot-Shot Basketball

Both men stand side by side, Alt on the left, Harris on the right, facing their respective rims. They put in their tokens, select the game, and hit start. Alt takes a few practice dribbles, and the bell rings. Well, it’s more of a horn, but you get the idea. Alt and Harris start off bricking their first three shots, but Hardbody swishes #4 to take the early lead. Alt reacts instantly and becomes a house afire, his hands a blur as he’s grabbing and shooting with speed and accuracy. A Harris brick hits the outside of the rim and bounces to Alt’s side, knocking a sure point out. Alt is incensed and focused on hitting the three pointers as the ten-second count begins. However, all the balls are coming to Hardbody’s side. The score is 41-35, Alt in the lead, with three seconds left. Hardbody grabs a ball and swishes it. The one ball remaining comes down to the middle, Alt and Harris grab it and struggle for a moment before Harris violently tears it away. A haphazard shot by Harris is GOOD! But wait: he let it go after the time was up. The trey doesn’t count and Alt is the Hot Shot Hero

WINNER in :40 (includes 10 seconds of bonus time) Chris Alt (Series tied 1-1)

Chris and Hardbody collect their tickets, and Alt gloats when he reveals he received one more than Hardbody did. Hardbody is not amused.

Alt and Harris: Best of Seven Chuck E. Cheese Challenge Round 3: Horse-Riding Simulator

Again, Alt on the left, Harris on the right. This Horse Race Simulator requires the use of hitting the “whip” button, steering, and “bucking” the fiberglass horse with as much power and vigor as one can. They put their quarters in and select their steeds. For the record, Harris chooses a White Stallion while Alt picks a Dark Brown one.

The countdown begins, and the race is on. Hardbody and Alt start bucking their horses hard, with Alt yelling, “WELCOME TO PRIME TIME, BITCH” while hitting the “whip” button. Alt’s horse is out to a slight lead, but Hardbody is right behind, building speed slowly and steadily. It’s a close race as both men ride their horses hard. Alt, though, is tiring and begins to fall back. Hardbody seems to be gaining speed, but he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to the game. Instead, his gaze is at a cute brunette waiting tables. As he’s watching her bend down and pour drinks, he bucks harder, harder, harder. Alt, still in the game, looks at Hardbody in astonishment. Faster and faster HH rides, whipping the horse in the game and smacking his own ass in real life. The waitress accidentally drops an ice cube (for some reason) down her shirt, and Hardbody goes berserk. The bolts holding the horse to the floor are loosening as Hardbody thrusts with incredible speed. As he crosses the finish line in the game, he yells, “I JUST EJACULATED ON A PLASTIC HORSE AT A KID’S RESTAURANT, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!”

Winner in, oh, I don’t know, two minutes: Hardbody Harris (Hardbody leads the series 2-1)

After the race, Alt hesitantly walks up to Hardbody, whose eyes are rolled in the back of his head.

CA: Dude…we better move. And grab a napkin or three.

HH: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

Alt and Harris: Best of Seven Chuck E. Cheese Challenge Round 4: NFL Blitz Videogame

After Harris cleans up, takes a nap, and gets the waitress’s phone number, they decide to play some joystick-based videogames. Unfortunately, Chuck E. Cheese has shitty videogames, so they’re forced to play the 2000 edition of NFL blitz. They put in their tokens and select their teams. Chris enters “ALT” in for his initials just to be cute. Harris is the Lions, while Alt picks Falcons for no reason. Harris kicks off, Alt on offense. Deep pass. TD. Alt kicks off, Harris on offense. Deep pass. TD. Harris is the Lions, while Alt picks Falcons for no reason. Harris kicks off, Alt on offense. Deep pass. TD. Alt kicks off, Harris on offense. Deep pass. TD. Harris is the Lions, while Alt picks Falcons for no reason. Harris kicks off, Alt on offense. Deep pass. TD. Alt kicks off, Harris on offense. Deep pass. TD. Harris is the Lions, while Alt picks Falcons for no reason. Harris kicks off, Alt on offense. Deep pass. TD. Alt kicks off, Harris on offense. Deep pass. TD. Harris is the Lions, while Alt picks Falcons for no reason. Harris kicks off, Alt on offense. Deep pass. TD. Alt kicks off, Harris on offense. Deep pass. TD. Harris is the Lions, while Alt picks Falcons for no reason. Harris kicks off, Alt on offense. Deep pass. TD. Alt kicks off, Harris on offense. Deep pass. TD.

This goes on for 3 ½ quarters. Here’s how the game ends, with the score tied up at 84-84:

Harris is the Lions, while Alt picks Falcons for no reason. Harris kicks off, Alt on offense. Deep pass. TD. Alt kicks off, Harris on offense. Deep pass. TD. HARRIS GOES FOR THE 2-POINT CONVERSION…and gets it! Harris wins, 92-91.

WINNER in four quarters: Hardbody Harris (Hardbody leads series 3-1)

CA: Well, that was kind of anticlimactic.

HH: Yeah. You should have gone for the two point conversion earlier.

CA: Whatever. That game sucks. We should have played NBA Jam. They had the edition where Anfernee Hardaway was good. Anyway, looks like the next challenge is something just as lame.

Alt and Harris: Best of Seven Chuck E. Cheese Challenge Round 5: Push the Button and You Get As Many Tickets As The Light Indicates Game

The rules for this are simple: The player stands in front of a big round wheel. Along the wheel are lights, and next to the lights are numbers. The light travels around the wheel, and the player pushes a big button to stop the light. Whatever number the light stops on is how many tickets one gets. Tickets range from 1-JACKPOT, which currently sits at 212.

Harris is up first. He puts in four tokens and the light whips around the circle. Hardbody watches the blinky light, gauging its speed and calculating when to hit the button. It goes around three or four times, Harris readies himself, and…out of NOWHERE he’s blindsided by the Chuck E. Cheese mascot! Harris falls to the floor, and is on the receiving end of a series of stomps. Hardbody struggles to the Snack machine and pulls himself up. Chuck E. Cheese attempts a haymaker, but Harris ducks it and hits a trio of knife-edge chops. Instead of “WOOOOO-ing,” however, all the little kids are crying and burying themselves in their parents’ bosoms. Hardbody, though, doesn’t notice and takes it to the mouse. A snap suplex ruins a 7-year old birthday party. Harris Irish whips the mascot into the token dispenser, and then tries to slam his head into it. The mouse blocks that with an elbow to the gut and slams HH into it. He grabs Hardbody’s hair and drags him into the dining room and stabs him with a plastic spork. Hardbody gets up and is busted wide open! He stumbles around and ends up crawling onto the front stage. Chuck E. follows, but turns on the Animatronic Animal Band on his way up. A giant green Alligator begins playing “Pizza B. Goode” and rotates to the music, hitting Hardbody with his fake electric guitar. HH stumbles around and meets the big right hand of a sunglasses-wearing grizzly bear on the drums. Hardbody goes down and is kicked offstage by Chuck E. Cheese, to the delight of the audience who thinks that it’s part of the act. In the dining room again, The Cheesey One kicks HH in the ribs and then headbutts him with his giant head. That stings a little bit. Hardbody tries a comeback, but a kick to the stomach is reversed into a T-Bone suplex. WTF? The rodent is easily in charge now, and he locks in an anklelock in the middle of the lobby. Hardbody is in pain and reaches out, screaming in agony. A little girl walks by and hands HH her ice cream cone. HH doesn’t take it, however, but instead grabs the big velvet rope that makes sure kids don’t get into the employee area. Chuck E. regretfully breaks the hold. Hobbling, Hardbody gets to his feet and blocks a punch, spearing his opponent to the ground. Piston fire to the mouse’s face, and then he climbs the serving counter and hits the #1 DOUBLE AXEHANDLE IN THE OOWF on Charles. He signals to the crowd, who is actually terrified at this point, and turns around and eats a Pizza Shovel to the face! That hurts. The end is near for Hardbody, as Chuck E. picks him up and looks to be setting him up for a powerbomb. In the air and…reversed into a TO BE EDITED IN LATER~! And down goes Chuck E! Hardbody has barely enough energy to reach up and hit the “stop” button on the game, where the light has been going round and round a few hundred times. The button is pushed and it stops on…1 ticket. HH groans and passes out on the floor.

Chris Alt, meanwhile, shrugs and puts in his tokens. He watches it go around one time and safely hits the button to receive 5 tickets.

WINNER in 13:09 Chris Alt (Harris up 3-2)

After, Alt helps Harris to his feet and grabs some paper towel so HH can wipe the blood from his face.

CA: What the fuck was that about?

HH: I think he’s dating that waitress. Anyway, let’s move on: I feel like smashing rodents.

Alt and Harris: Best of Seven Chuck E. Cheese Challenge Round 6: Whack-a-Mole

Harris can’t stop his bleeding forehead, so Alt starts first. The game begins easily enough, with one mole popping up at a time. Alt is perfect 13 seconds in, but then they start popping up two at a time. Alt is still faster than them, even dropping the mallet and hitting each Mole with an elbow drop. I guess this is perfectly legal. Alt is poetry in motion: Up right, whacked. Down left, gone. All four corners at one time? Bang bang bang bang. In the end, Chris doesn’t miss one, and he’s confidant that HH won’t do as well.

Alt steps aside and lets Hardbody put in his money This starts off in much the same way, with Harris easily putting the moles down. However, he keeps the mallet in his hand and continues the smashy smashy. Hardbody is perfect as the last 5 seconds wind down. Alt cringes at the thought of losing in sudden death. Hardbody still perfect. The last mole comes up, Harris raises the sledgehammer up, starts bringing it down, and…stops.

Fievel: SUPWISE!

HH: FIEVEL! Get out of there!!

Fievel ducks back down and the game indicates that Hardbody has missed a mole. HH pokes his head down into the game and says to his friend, “We’ve discussed this many times. Do NOT play in the whack-a-mole game. Last time that kid from Jerry McGuire almost killed you!

Alt takes his tickets and does a happy dance.

WINNER in 2:00 Chris Alt (Series tied at 3-3)

Of course, the decisive game is Skee-ball. Everyone knows how to play skee-ball, but the stakes have never been this high, ever.

EVER!!!

Alt and Harris: Best of Seven Chuck E. Cheese Challenge Round 7: SKEEBALL...OF DOOM!

They agree on the rules: One game, highest score wins. As always, Alt on the left, Harris on the right. They put their tokens in and watch as their nine balls roll down. Alt goes first, and lands a 50. Harris also rolls a 50. They look at each other and give an “it’s ON!” nod. Alt with another 50, and then Harris follows up with the same-looking roll as last time. Alt with another perfect shot, but Harris counters again.

A crowd gathers as Alt and Harris go 50-for-50, throw-for-throw. After eight shots, they’re tied at 400 points. They each have a wooden ball in hand and turn toward each other.

HH: Look, I know things got a little tense and rough between us here. I said some things I’m not proud of.

CA: Me too. As competitive as we are, I like when we’re good friends, better.

HH: Yeah, me too. Since we’re so even, how about we drop this silly bet and make a new one?

CA: Like what?

HH: Loser has to kiss Sexy Female Journalist #42!

CA: (squealing) EWWWWWWWWW! Okay, deal.

*They shake*

HH: Okay, let’s roll together. No matter what, I’ll buy us ice cream!

CA: I’ll bring the sprinkles.

*They hug*

*With the form of champions, Alt and Harris grab their balls (ha ha, I know, it’s sounds gross) and start their backswing. The throws are synchronized, and they let them go on the same trajectory. As the balls head up the lane, Johnny Adrenaline and Attitude Adjuster burst out from behind the targets! They each grab the oncoming wooden balls and chuck them at Hardbody and Alt! The SuperFriends have no time to react and they get drilled in the skull. Woozy, they both turn around and are face to face with Chuck E. Cheese! He kicks both of them and hits a double STEED-D-T, sending them to the floor. The mascot’s head comes off (which makes the kids scream again…this place is in trouble), revealing none other than Niles Anderson. He bends down and smiles.

Niles: Well, Harris and Alt. You guys couldn’t decide who was the best at Chuck E. Cheese. We don’t know who the better man is. Well, you have one more match to decide who is going to face me at Hell On Earth, the biggest match at the biggest show of the year. We’ll see what happens after this week. But what I do know is that, no matter what, the outcome is going to be the same at Hell On Earth as it is today. Me the victor…and anyone who gets in my way flat on his back.

*Niles, AA, and Adrenaline kick Alt and Harris before taking Harris’ briefcase of tickets and buying personalized keychains at the ticket exchange counter.

[mooseheadjack]

"Reynolds again?" Capellan rolls his eyes, "How many ways do I have to beat this guy?"

"You're lucky the Rick didn't make it a best of seven series." Wilder blades past, "Or you'd be fighting that stiff until November."

Capellan grimaces,

"Dude, don't even joke. I'm stuck on this dead end merry-go-round with Thim while Firechild 'defends' his title against the amazing Jobberman every week."

"Things could be worse." Westgaard opines.

"How's that, Birdman?"

"Well for one thing, Thim could come out this week with a Tourette's Syndrome gimmick."

[mooseheadjack]

JWW - "Hey! Maybe it'll be the dreaded "English Toothbrush Match"

Wilder - "Or a Spice girl on a Pole Match!"

Cap - "Very funny..."

JWW - "Or a Rolling Stones Retirement Match"

Cap - "That'll never happen."

JWW - "Yeah, he'll never go fo it."

Cap - "Thim or The Rick?"

JWW - "Jagger."

Cap - <Rolls eyes> "You guys aren't helping AT ALL.... "

Wilder <Rolling to a stop> - "Dude - Isn't it YOUR turn to make the stips?"

Cap - "I guess, unless the GM has an idea already. But like The Birdman said, at this rate I'm going to be dealin with Reynolds for MONTHS - and for what? Isn't like either of us are hot in the title hunt - Firechild is dodging anyone with a pulse."

Wilder - "Didn't he wrestle Gimmickman?"

Cap - "Exactly. Speaking of Champs and the 3PS, you guys gonna get a shot at the belts sometime?"

JWW - <Shrugs> "You got me. Tag Title picture is a little crowded right now - You got the Champs, Moose and 'Crete, Drink and Destroy, The Aussies, Devils Brigade, The Establishment - even The Chickenshit Heels and The Fellowship of The Ring are getting involved. Takes a lot to get a shot - but we're getting there."

Wilder - "Hey man, maybe we need to make some NOISE. Show folks that we shold get a shot at the Champs."

JWW - "We're doing just that Tommy - listen to the crowd - we're getting over. AND we're doing it without burning, ambushing, shooting or blowing anyone up. But one thing at a time. We got to deal with the Wiz's boys again."

CAP - "Think you can avoid doing a tube of toothpaste impression this week Wild?"

TW <Grimace> - "Yeah, that seemed like a good idea at the time..."

JWW - "And......?"

TW - "I guess I better go higher next time?"

JWW - <Shakes Head>

TW - "Twisting moonsault?"

Cap - "Oh! I know - 720 SPLASH!"

Wilder <Getting revved up>- "With a FULL twist!"

CAP - "DUDE! THAT would ROCK!"

JWW - "God....."

<JWW realizes that Wilder and Cap aren't stopping - in fact, they are trying to top each other...>

JWW - I'm getting a sandwich and a drink....

Cap - California Club?

Wilder - Hey - I'll take a Red Bull and Mountain Dew....

JWW - C'mon. You guys are buying.....

[mooseheadjack]

[Attitude Adjuster is sitting in the locker room with an icepack on his head when Johnny Adrenaline walks in, still selling his injuries from the unprovoked beatdown they received from MHJ and his cronies earlier in the evening.]

AA: Well...?

JA: Yeah, we got 'em.

AA: Great. Next week, Endo and Morte get the shitkicking they got comin' to them.

JA: Well, maybe more like a shitwhipping.

AA: Huh?

JA: It's us vs. them in a Sioux Warrior Strap match.

AA: A Sioux Warrior Strap match? Never heard of it.

JA: Well, I'd guess it'd just be like any other strap match. Ya know, kinda like how bookers can put whatever city or state they happen to be in in front of a match to jazz it up a little. Ya know, Texas Death Match, Las Vegas Death Match, Chicago Street Fight, New York City Street Fight...

AA: Yeah, but this is a "Sioux Warrior" strap match. We're talking about Indians here.

JA: And?

AA: Well, I don't know about you, but I ain't about to disrespect any Sioux tribe by having a Sioux Warrior Strap match with some cheap imitation strap. I don't want an arrow in my ass.

JA: Well, what do you suggest we do about it?

AA: There's only one thing TO do. We gotta go find a Sioux Warrior Strap.

[Johnny nods in agreement as we fade to black.]

[mooseheadjack]

Donovan Viper is doing arm curls in the locker room when Johnny Adrenaline and Attitude Adjuster walk in.

JA: Hey, Donnie.

DV: What the hell do you want, coward?

AA: Um, well... We're looking for a Sioux Warrior Strap, and we figured you might know where to find one.

DV: Why the hell would I know where to find a Sioux Warrior Strap?

AA: Well, I figured, you're a tough guy, and a kinky guy, that maybe you've been with a Sioux Warrior before, maybe even have his strap laying around.

DV: Why would I HAVE a Sioux Warrior... AW FUCK YOU MAN, I'M NOT A HOMO! NOT EVEN FOR INDIANS!

AA: Holy shit, man. It's ok. No need to get racial, white man.

DV: Look at my bio on www.pantslessfury.com/oowf I'm only a quarter white.

JA: Is that right? I never knew... I guess that would explain it...

DV: Explain WHAT?

JA: Nothing man, nothing. Hey, is Missy around? She's a hot piece of ass, you know.

DV: She's not here.

AA: Speaking of hot pieces of ass, where'd you get that masked woman? Think she has any relation to the two masked men?

DV: I don't know Capps. Maybe you'd know that better than I.

AA: Why would I know that? It's not like, I'm one of them. Haha haha... hehe?

JA: Shut up, Attitude! Hey, Donnie, even though I can't see her face, she's still hot! Got this great body! Like a ninja!

DV: My ninja is quite voluptuous.

JA: Quote the Viper nevermore.

AA: So Donnie, how would one get a strap off of a Sioux Warrior?

DV: GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! (throws free weight towards Attitude, narrowly missing him but crunching a locker in)

AA: Ok, ok! Jeez! Don't get your panties all ruffled up! (as he walks away)

DV: I DON'T WEAR PANTIES ASSHOLE!!!! (throws free weight at Attitude, and hits his head, knocking him out!)

JA: Ah, great. Now I have to wait til after commercial break for Attitude to get revived.

[mooseheadjack]

Corax opens the locker that Viper just demolished...

AW CRAP MY PUDDING!!

[mooseheadjack]

*Chris Alt is laying down napping on an empty catering table backstage. Hardbody Harris walks up to him with a can of shaving cream, snickering to himself as he gently puts CA's arm into the proper dangling position*

CA: *snort* No no no, I don't want to go to school today Mom.

*HH begins to fill CA's hand with shaving cream*

CA: Ermmm, five more minutes... wuzzuh? *CA splatters his face with the shaving cream and jumps up* Huh? Hardbody!!

*HH grins and holds up a pack of Mentos. CA stops looking angry and just smiles and shakes his finger at HH in a "You got me" gesture*

This promo has been brought to you by Mentos, the Freshmaker.

[mooseheadjack]

*Viper is walking away from Johnny to continue his workout when he bumps into Canadian Dragon.*

DV: "Oh what the hell do you want."

CD: "The OOWF title dumb ass. But that's besides the point. Hey, you didn't just refer to the OOWF website did you?"

DV: "Yeah...so?"

CD: "Well that site says that you are 'loyal to his friends, and Ministry of Dawgness mates Hellion and Corax, and was very loyal to his leader, mentor, and frisbee buddy, The Underdawg.' In fact the only thing about you that's right is about your man crush on Hardbody."

DV: "Hey, I am not..."

CD: "A homo. I know. You keep telling yourself that. But you know there is one thing I like about that site. It says that I'm the current OOWF champion. See even that website knows I'm the best wrestler in the OOWF."

DV: "Actually, I'm pretty sure that Hardbody is the superior wrestler. I mean I've studied his tapes really hard..."

CD: "I don't need to know about your state of arousal when watching tapes of Hardbody. But I'll tell you what. Once the higher ups here finally figure out that I'm the number one contender for the Onslaught title, I'll give anybody a title shot. It doesn't matter if it's Uncle Enity, Capellan, Tommy Wilder, Chris Alt, Hardbody Harris, Fievel, Sexy Female Journalists #33, the guy who delivers fresh fruit to Flair, or your Sioux Warrior sex slave..."

*Viper goes to pick up another free weight to through towards Dragon, but Hardbody walks into the gym and Viper drops the weight to wave at Hardbody. Dragon walks away shaking his head.*

[mooseheadjack]

Capellan enters the Rick's office. He gives the GM a stony stare and brandishes a folder of documents at him,

"I found a little something in Firechild's locker."

The Ricks looks shocked, but tries to recover.

"It's not what it seems ..."

"I don't want to hear it, because I don't care." Capellan slaps the folder with his palm, "I just want to talk about my match with Thim."

The Rick groans,

"I can't let you guys do another of those crazy matches -"

"I want the match to be Onslaught rules."

"Oh ... OK."

"Two out of three falls."

"No problem."

"Winner gets a Onslaught title shot at the PPV."

The Rick's eyes bulge.

"I can't do that! Firech ..." he breaks off as Capellan brandishes the folder once more.

"Firechild will what?"

"Firechild will need to be at his best to beat one of you two at the PPV." The Rick sighs, "Now get out."

Capellan smiles and leaves the GM's office. He walks down a corridor then pauses to dump the folder into a nearby trash can.

"Psych." he mutters. Then, whistling jauntily, he continues on his way while the camera swoops in to focus on the documents in the trash ... and every single page is blank.

[mooseheadjack]

Attitude Adjuster and Johnny Adrenaline are driving down a dirt road, looking for an Indian storefront that might have a Sioux Warrior Strap. Instead, they are blinded by the sudden bright lights of a very large building. A sign out front reads: “Bonesteel Indian Casino: Keeping Indians in Alcohol and Money Since 2002.”

AA: Well, what do you know? An Indian casino out in the middle of nowhere. Johnny, did I ever tell you I’m part Indian? They’ll treat me like a hero in here.

JA: Oh no...

Just as AA and JA are about to walk into the casino, they spot a poster on the wall.

AA: Hey, look, it has our pictures on it.

JA: Man, why do they always have to use that old promo photo? I’m much better looking without the mullet.

The poster reads: “Wanted: For Wagon Russling, Horse Russling, Theft of Wrestling Foreign Objects and Assault Upon an Indian Store Owner in Yellowknife, Northwest Territory, Canada, Attitude Adjuster and Johnny Adrenaline (aka The Chickenshit Heels). No Reward. Shoot on Site. Beware: Armed and Dangerous with Promos.

AA & JA: Uh-oh.

AA: Although the continuity is pretty impressive.

JA: But we need to find a Sioux Warrior Strap. Now what are we going to do?

A lightbulb flashes above AA’s head. (Ding!)

JA: Did I just hear a microwave bell go off?

AA: Nah, that’s my “idea light.” See (points to light over his head), we have special effects now. I have an idea. Let’s walk away from here and go to commercial.

(Hi, this is Attitude Adjuster and Johnny Adrenaline for Cal Worthington’s Used Cars. We’ll sell you any car on this lot for Twenty-Nine, Ninety-Nine. This 1980 Ford Pinto? $2,999. This Buick LaSabre with 245,000 miles on it? $2,999. This twice-stolen 1997 Honda Civic with easy-opening doors and a 24-hour sunroof? $2,999. And here’s Cal’s dog Spot. F***, that’s a freakin’ grizzly bear! I’m outta here. [music]Go see Cal, go see Cal, go see Cal!)

We rejoin The Chickenshit Heels inside the casino, wearing fake mustaches, wigs and huge 1970s-style dark sunglasses. They are at the blackjack table. Adrenaline has a big stack of chips in front of him. Attitude Adjuster has a much smaller pile.

JA: 21 again! Yeah!

AA: Screw you, Johnny. All I keep getting are these royal dudes and “A” cards. I mean, what the hell? Those aren’t numbers! See, two more dudes dressed like Donnie Viper. I fold. (AA tosses more chips at the dealer.)

JA (to the dealer): Hey, have you ever heard of a Sioux Warrior Strap Match?

Dealer: Ah, yes. The famous Sioux Warrior Strap Match. Only the strongest survive the Sioux Warrior Strap Match. My father, he was the King of the Sioux Warrior Strap Match.

AA: Hey, can you quit saying “Sioux Warrior Strap Match”? It’s tough to type out every time.

JA: So how does a SWSM work?

AA: See how he does that? Acronym. Much better.

Dealer: The SWSM is the most vicious, heinous, barbaric, cruel, nasty, brutal, ferocious, fierce, inhuman…

AA: Dude’s a freakin’ thesaurus…

Dealer: …violent, sadistic match ever made between two men. The strap is made from the leather of buffalo testicals, stretched out in the hot sun for 19 days and beaten to a fine sandpaper-like substance by the first-born of those who battle. The strap will cut you in a thousand ways! And the loser? The loser is tied to stakes in the middle of the desert and left there for five days with only a canteen of water and a Powerbar.

AA: A Powerbar?

Dealer: Well, we had legal issues in the 1990s.

AA and JA huddle together, looking a bit freaked out.

JA: Well, thanks, ummm…we gotta go now. Nice chatting with you.

AA: To The Rick?

JA: Damn straight.

[mooseheadjack]

AA and JA make it back to the Bonesteel Adult Day Health Care Clinic, where The Rick’s office is located. AA politely knocks on the door.

AA: Hello? Mr. The Rick, sir? Can we have a moment of your time?

There’s no answer, but AA and JA walk in anyway.

TR: Did I say come in?

AA: Well, no. But we have something important to discuss.

TR: Let me guess. The Chickenshit Heels want out of their Sioux Warrior Strap Match this week?

JA (to AA): Hey, he’s good. (To Rick) Exactly. And we have some compelling evidence as to why we should be removed from the Sioux Warrior Strap Match.

TR: You have 30 seconds.

JA (hurried): OK, first, we were unfairly attacked by The Establishment last week after our match with The Team From Down Under. They think we are the masked men. I’m telling you, WE ARE NOT THE MASKED MEN!!!!! Why does everyone think we do such horrid acts? We’re nice guys here!

TR: 20 seconds.

JA: Second, we’ve learned that the Sioux Warrior Strap match is the most vicious, heinous, barbaric, cruel, nasty, brutal, ferocious, inhuman…

AA: You forgot fierce.

TR: 10 seconds.

JA: …violent, sadistic match ever made between two men. Did you know the strap is made from the leather of buffalo testicals, stretched out in the hot sun for 19 days and beaten to a fine sandpaper-like substance by the first-born of those who battle? And the loser is tied to stakes in the middle of the desert and left there for five days with only a canteen of water and a Powerbar?

TR: A Powerbar?

AA: They had some legal issues in the 1990s.

JA: So what do you say, The Rick? Can you see that a Sioux Warrior Strap Match is not the right stipulation for us?

TR: No.

AA: No? That’s it? Just no? You can’t do this to us! There’s got to be an explanation!

TR: Attitude, you want an explanation? Fine, here’s your explanation.

(The Rick turns on the all-mighty OOWF-TV, and we see AA and JA just before last week’s Midweek Mayhem.

JA: By the way, did you happen to see what the Brewers are doing to the Reds today? It's 14-3 in the 7th and the Brewers have scored in every inning.

AA: Well, that explains the maniacal screaming coming from The Rick's office. I just figured he'd received his STD test in the mail.)

TR: STD test in the mail, huh? Making fun of my Reds, huh? If it were up to me, I’d bypass the Sioux Warrior Strap Match and just leave you two tied to stakes in the middle of the desert!!

AA: At least we’d have a Powerbar.

TR: No Powerbar! Now get the hell out of my office!

AA and JA scurry out of The Rick’s office.

AA: I think that went well.

JA (slaps AA in the back of the head): Come on. We have to go find a Sioux Warrior Strap. And maybe a few other things as well.

[mooseheadjack]

The lights dim. The opening bars of Mettalica's Some Kind of Monster blares through the speakers. The lights flicker then BOOM PYRO! As Drink & Destroy walk down the ramp to the ring with a loud POP from the crowd! FFC has the mic.

FFC - TheRick in his... infinite wisdom... has seen fit to bestow upon us another match against your tag-team champs... 3 Piece Set. But this time... it's a non... title... shot. *Crowd Boos*

FFC - Now I'm not happy with this and neither is my partner, but if clawing our way back up the rankings to get OUR titles back is what we have to do... then so be it. The Set's days are numbered anyway.

*Stank grabs the mic*

Stank - Oh the irony. Rick put's ME in an I Quit match. I guess Rick isn't done punishing us for what I did to him. That's fine. I know who the most domininant team in the tag ranks is. Lock knows. And EACH and EVERY one of YOU out there KNOW who WE are. We are DRINK & DESTROY baby! *Crowd cheers* And in spite of what the hanging chads indicate in the polls. WE are the defining team in THIS Federation. Cause we Drink... then Destroy you in the ring.

FFC - That is exactly what we are gonna do to Ax &....

*FFC is interrupted by 3-Piece Set's theme music as Ax, Cole and Firechild walk out and stand at the top of the ramp with all the gold held high. The crowd boos LOUDLY as Stank and FFC seeth in the ring, motioning for the Set to join them. Cole grabs a mic.*

Cole - We KICKED your FAT asses! WE hold the straps! And you guys have the grapes to stand in that ring and LIE to these morons in the crowd? *Crowd boos*

Ax - You know, It occurs to me that you two are in DENIAL. Ha ha. You see Stank there for awhile had it right. We ARE unstoppable. We ARE a force. And we plan on KEEPING these belts for a very... long... time. So just keep telling yourselves about how domininant you WERE! The three time...three time... three time tag team CHAMPS... are standing right HERE baby!

Firechild - Stank *Crowd Boos*... Stank I want you to take a good long look at greatness! This is what you will NEVER achieve again. You threaten MY life and thought everything would just be OK if you got me out the way? HA! I didn't even bother to show up and you guys STILL got beat! I said it once... and I'll say it again... you guys are pathetic... and that goes DOUBLE for you Stank! HA!

FFC - Pathetic huh.

Stank - Firechild... It's like I said before... you talk too much.

*With that Stank drops the mic, exits the ring and advances up the ramp toward 3-Piece Set. The Set for their part hold their ground as Stank ATTACKS, first Ax then Cole with lefts and rights. The tag champs recover from the initial onslaught and retaliate getting the best of Stank momentarily, before FFC grabs Ax from behind and starts throwing rights to his head. Firechild and Cole stay on Stank but Stank grabs Cole by the throat and double hand chokeslams him to the the steel ramp! Stank sets his eyes on Firechild who is begging off. Ax has DDT'd FFC to the ramp and jumps on Stank's back with a sleeper hold! Stank is down to one knee as Firechild starts putting the boot to Stank's face repeatedly. Drink and Destroy are down as Ax and Firechild collect Cole and beat a hasty retreat while a recovered FFC runs to his partner's aid and OOWF officials arrive.*

Camera fades

[mooseheadjack]

Wilder and Westgaard are walking down the hall towards Flair's Sandwich stand....

JWW: Man we just gotta be patient and doin our thing here....eventually we'll get just rewards

TW: I know MAn but it would be Killer to have a buncha gold around our waists...and the onslaught title around's caps

JWW: Oh i know it would, but you gotta rember this is the OOWF....you earn you spots here through blood, sweat, more blood and lotsa pain.

TW: Well if that's the case lets show Styner and the shitty Doctor why we will earn our way to the tag titles....

JWW: sounds like a plan my crazy ass friend

[mooseheadjack]

[Attitude Adjuster and Johnny Adrenaline are seen leaving the Bonesteel Adult Day Health Care Clinic, frustrated that their pleas to call off the Sioux Warrior Strap Match, went unheard by The Rick. They walk on the sidewalk in front of the building.]

AA: Man, why wouldn't he call off the match?

JA: Why doesn't he have his office set up in the arena this week?

AA: ...I don't know, that, too. Damn it, I'm hungry. And I ain't walkin all the way back down the block in the other direction to the arena to get a sandwich from Naitch.

JA: Well, why didn't we drive here?

AA: Uh... I don't know. Cause skits usually work better when the guys are walking. About the only time you see vehicles on wrestling shows, they either get wrecked intentionally, run over by a monster truck, or the windows smashed out with a ball bat or something.

JA: Good point.

AA: Speaking of points, is there one to this promo, Johnny?

JA: Not really. The company just wanted us to get some air time before we go back to the Indian casino. AA equals ratings, remember.

AA: Damn, Johnny really does know best. ... Now come on, let's go get that strap.

[fade to black]

[mooseheadjack]

*Moosehead Jack walks into the gym to do some training. The weightroom is empty. He goes to the benchpress and begins his workout.*

MHJ <while lifting weight> - One... Two.. Three... uh... Four...

*All of a sudden, and someone places their hand on the weight and pushes it onto his chest. MHJ tries to lift the weight, but the power behind it is unbelievable. Truly, this could only be the power exerted by a MAN!*

Niles Anderson - 100% Pure Man to be exact.

MHJ <struggling as he is pinned down> - What the hell do you want?

Niles - You sent me an ultimatum. I'm answering it.

*On that note, Niles smashes a barbell over MHJ's head. Everything goes to black.*

<the following segment is seen entirely from MHJ's perspective>

*MHJ starts coming too, his vision is very blurry. He blinks a couple times before it is revealed a single masked man is standing before him. Lined up in front of the masked man is a series of weapons: a steel chair, a barbwire baseball bat, a crowbar, a noose, a steel garbage bin and a cookie sheet.

The masked man crouches down to lock eyes with MHJ.*

Masked Man - You ok there?

*MHJ makes an effort to answer but nothing comes out. He's still bleary from the weight hitting him in the head. He tries to move but quickly realizes both his hands are handcuffed to something. He surveys the scene a bit more and realizes he's in the middle of a wrestling ring.*

Masked Man - This should actually be a familiar setup for you. I mean, this is how it went down with your new best friend, Concrete. After this, you're gonna wish you chose your friends more carefully.

*MHJ turns his head to lock eyes with the masked man again.*

Masked Man - Oh, in case it isn't obvious...

*He starts to pull off his mask revealing himself as Niles Anderson! The shocking surprise! The horror!*

Niles - I'm sure you had that figured out anyways. You always were a smart one, Moose. Too smart, I might add. So I may as well put it in the open now. I'm responsible for the Bludgeoning.

*Niles picks up the cookie sheet and comes full force at MHJ with it. His vision gets blurrier for a second then starts clearing up again.*

Niles - Man, that felt good. I've been waiting to do that for a while now. You smug prick, you think you can give me an ultimatum and get away with it? In case you forgot Moose, I'm the champ. I have something you never will have. And I'm not losing it either. Bring them all: Hardbody, Chris Alt, they're the minor leagues compared to me.

*Another hit to the head with the cookie sheet. Then Niles drops it and picks up the barbwire baseball bat. He motions toward MHJ, puts his hand on his cheek and makes sure he can see the bat.*

Niles - But you, you're another story. I respected you for a while there. Hell, I might even dare to say I was scared of you even. At this specific moment though, I have no clue what I was scared of. You've gone soft Moose. Real soft. And I can't fear that. I can't even respect that.

*Niles starts to grate the barbwire bat over MHJ's face, his vision becomes bloody and red. As he continues grating, Niles starts speaking again.*

Niles - I mean, this was even easier than I thought. I don't know why I didn't do it before.

*Niles stops grating on MHJ's face, stands back and takes a full fledged swing with the bat to MHJ's abdomen. Then another. Then another. He stops to wipe sweat of his brow.*

Niles - Man, this is to good. Do you feel that Moose? Thats called vindication. That, my friend, is called taking you off your high horse for once. Mean ol' Moosehead "Trust me" Jack, bloodier of men now getting bloodies himself. Hows it feel? Hows it feel that I get the first word. You've been waiting for this happen. You've been expecting a war. I gotta say, I'm a peaceful man. I don't do war.

*Niles swings the bat again to the side of MHJ's head. Things become blurrier than ever.*

Niles - No, I don't do war at all. I remove all possibility of that from the source. Take you out, no war can happen.

*Niles drops the bat and picks up the steel chair. He starts smacking the chair against the mats.*

Niles - Hear that sound Moose? <SMACK> Hear that? <SMACK> That's the sound of your chances of tag team gold fading. Thats the sound of your chances of beating me fading.

*On that note, Niles swings the chair hard onto the top of MHJ's head. His vision goes black but he can still hear whats going on. He can barely feel Niles grabbing him by the back of the neck.*

Niles - You mistook my lack of action for fear Moose. That was your biggest mistake. I said this from day 1: I know EXACTLY what I'm doing. I've had you scouted for ages. And if you think you're getting away from this, oh, I'm far from finished. Don't plan on making it to your match this week. You're not even going to make it to the hospital.

MHJ - You...

Niles - What's that Moose? Got something to say?

MHJ - You'll... get... yours... Trust me...

*With his last ounce of strength, Moose spits. He only had Niles reaction to tell him that the spit connected as his vision is still black.*

Niles - Son of a bitch. You'll wish you didn't do that.

*MHJ hears Niles walk around. He then hears a whoosh in the air before he feels something hard hit him in the side of the head. Then nothing.*

<Regular ninja cameraman angles continue>

*Niles is standing over the unconcious MHJ with a crowbar in his hand. He works to uncuff him from the ropes and then cuff his hands together. He then takes the noose, ties it around MHJ's neck and drags him out of the arena.*

Niles - I'm far from done with you you son of a bitch. I'm gonna put you in storage while I sort out Hardbody and Chris Alt. But I'm gonna make a special point to visit you every day.

*Fade to Black*

[mooseheadjack]

<the invisible ninja cameraman shows that MHJ slowly comes to, tied to a chair. We appear to be in a warehouse or something. Niles Anderson gets up and walks over to Jack once he sees he is awake>

NA: Look here, it's Moosehead Jack, helpless as a little baby. Not so tough now are you?

MHJ: <smirks> This all you got Niles?

NA: <picks up a length of barbed wire and wraps it around Jack's skull, twisting it tighter and tighter drawing blood from Jack's head> How ya like that Jack?

MHJ:<grunting in pain> go to hell Niles, you sure you don't need your bitch boys here? You gonna do this on your own?

NA: <Kicks Jack in the mouth> You just don't know when to shut up do you? You just keep talking and talking. Face it Jack, you are nothing, you talk a big game, but you never deliver

MHJ: <laughing> Niles, you know damn well when I get out of this, I am gonna beat you bloody

NA: <grabbing a bottle and shattering it across Jack's face, blood flows off Jack's head> You assume you WILL get out of this, no Jack, I think I am gonna keep you here for awhile, make you MY bitch while I take care of Alt and Harris

MHJ: <spitting out blood> You really think you can beat either of them? <laughs> you are delusional.

NA: SHUT UP! I am the WORLD FUCKING CHAMPION, what the hell have you ever done? <slams Moose upside the head with a chair>

MHJ:<after taking a few seconds to regroup> keep it up Niles. This all you got? is this it? Jesus Christ you can't even beat a man tied to a chair! you are gonna get your ass handed to you by one of those two clowns.

NA: <grabbing his head in a rage, then slowly calming down> No, no Jack, I am gonna beat them just like I am gonna beat you. I think I have heard just about enough of your mouth.

<with that Niles yanks Jack up to his feet, still tied to the chair and drops him with a SteeDDT on the warehouse floor. Jack cannot stop the move and slams face first to the floor. MHJ is obviously out cold, blood begins to pool around his head and we fade to black>

[mooseheadjack]

(CTG arrives at the gym, ready for a workout. He's decked out in his new "Nothing's more Solid" T-shirt, ready to hit the weights hard. And, he's actually in a GOOD mood, as he saw Moose's car out front)

CTG: Let's get to it, Moose! SoulDragon and Mercury are nothing to sneeze at.

(Silence)

CTG: Moose?

(More Silence)

CTG: MOOSE~!!

(CTG starts to search the facility, but finds only a bloody barbell)

CTG: (frowns) ........

(Seing nothing else out of place, CTG puts the bloodied barbell by itself on the rack. He then turns to the bench and gathers a 25lb plate)

CTG: Moose, you may have dragged me to hell.... but at least enjoy that when I catch whoever took you, they'll be down there with me.

Trust me.

(CTG then walks out of the gym, gathering a roll of wrist tape. He tosses both in the rental car and speeds to the arena)

CTG: ...... and a spool of barbed wire......

[mooseheadjack]

Stank is being attended to in a hostital bed while a freshly bandaged FF Capslock stands nearby.

FFC- Those assholes, those rotten pricks. I swear to christ I'm gonna rip their tiny balls off.

Stank- How do you know they have tiny balls?

FFC- Hunch.

Stank- So what are we gonna do about all these purple bats?

FFC- Don't worry about 'em. Thems just the meds you're loaded full of.

Stank- I have a stout, sturdy and firm erection.

FFC- I can see that, buddy. Wanna put it away?

Stank- I'm gonna kill those bats with it.

FFC- Good luck with that. I'm gonna call Ax-Man. <dials a number, waits> Hey Ax? Yeah this is FF Capslock. Yeah, you suck. <click> I'm cool. I'm gonna call Chris Cole.

Stank- I can conjure lightning.

[mooseheadjack]

*Evil Wizard walks into the Rick's office, clouds of green smoke mysteriously follwing him into the room along with Mike Styner. As he speaks the cry of a thousand lost souls seem to reverbirate around the room, he speaks as if arrested with another force, a mood we have not seen him in till now*

EW: Rick, hear me! HEAR ME NOW!

Rick: Yes...

EW: Silence mortal one! You idiocy knows no bounds! HEAR ME NOW!

R: ....

EW: For weeks now I have been mistreated here in the OOWF. I hold a valid manager's liscence - I am no wrestler. I am no mere thug to dirty my hands in the ring! And yet... week after week I am manhandled. A mage of my stature given...

*Evil Wizard makes an expression William Regal would be proud of*

EW: The Claw!! And the OOWF does nothing. It issues no fines, it gives no punishment to the guilty, it judges not those who would be condemned.

I demand! I DEMAND...

*He cannot go on for sheer anger*

EW: I demand... a match ONE ON ONE with the peon, the peasant, the ignaramous known as ATTITUDE ADJUSTER. I am well aware he has a piffling tag match tonight - the man should be FORCED to come to heel for what he has done to me. He should be FORCED to work double duty, to face me one on one AFTER his Sioux Warrior strap match. And one thing more - this match should be a NO-HOLDS BARRED match so I can show the world my awesome display of magic, my reparte of spells, my arsenal of black magic, you will see the true force of EVIL.

And one thing more! Tonight you will see the next stage in my EVIL plan draw one step closer to its conclusion.

First! Styner here...

MS: Gold!

EW: Will help to destroy WcW and guess what - his partner has a PhD in MURDER. Muwhahaha.

And then, Mercury will singlehandedly help his team become the number 1 contenders for the OOWF tagteam title!

And THEN, THEN. You will finally see Microplay win back his OOWF title which for so long has rested with a lackluster, undeserving, PITIABLE champion. He will once again be your champion and I, IIIIII will be his mentor!

MS: Gold! Gold! Gold!

EW: Muwhahahahahaha!

*They leave the Rick who stands a little bewildered, a little confused*

[mooseheadjack]

Harper & Tommy are at the Yankton Indian Reserve Casino in South Dakota. Both are at around a poker table in a private playing room. Tommy has a pint of Guiness, Harper is drinking some kind of Indian Spirits. There are 3 others playing at the table, two big Indian guys and a tiny little white guy.

HC: I’ll see your 10 and raise 20.

Big Indian #1: Big spender. (throws in the chips)

Skinny White Guy: I’ll fold

Big Indian #2: (throws in chips without saying a word)

TO: Yer fekkin blufin yap is a shet (throws in the chips)

HC: Full House Queens over 10s

BI1: You got me

BI2: (turns card over revealing 3 Kings, a Jack, and a 5

TO: Red im an wep ya fekkin pussee. (throws down Full House Aces over Jacks)

HC: Dammit.

SWG: So are you guys prepared for your upcoming match. The current odds have you 4-1 underdogs to The Team From Down Under.

HC: Underdogs? Can’t be.

BI1: No, it is true.

TO: Whot de fek ir dos pis a shiet doin favred ova us?

SWG: What did he say.

HC: How are we the underdogs. I’ve beaten Underdawg in singles competition. Have either of them done that? Me and Tommy stood toe to toe with those psychos Moosehead Jack & Concrete TG. There must be a mistake. Those losers have been here a year without even sniffing the damn titles. We are going to beat them, win next week and then pound 3 Piece Set into oblivion.

BI1: My money is on the Aussies. They were in here the other night. They drink better then you two, play poker better then you two, and the damn well wrestler better then you two.

TO: Na whot ded ya go un say dat fa?

SWG: Oh no, (ducks under the table)

Tommy stands up and nails Big Indian 1 over the head with his mug of Guiness shattering the glass. Harper picks up the table and throws it like a Frisbee knocking BI2 off his chair. SWG manages to crawl around the bar and hide. Tommy & BI1 trade rights and lefts until Tommy ducks one of Indian’s rights and counters with his wicked left hook. Harper & BI2 are also in a scuffle. Harper is using his size to keep Indian 2 back and is slowly choking him out. Indian 2 is a tough fighter thogh and he powers out and then manges to lift up Camby and deliver a brutal looking Spinebuster onto the ground. Camby manages to get right back up to his feet and BI2 has a look of shock on his face. Camby flexes his pecs and then charges at BI2 nails him with a Giant Clothesline which knocks BI2 to the ground with such force that he rolls over onto his stomach. Camby then reaches down and hooks his hands around BI2’s waists and lifts him off the ground over his head in a very impressive looking German Suplex. Camby then drags him up by the hair slaps him in the face before delivering a Dominator through the Poker Table. Camby smirks and looks back at Tommy who has caught Skinny White Guy and is holding him up against the wall.

SWG: Please, please don’t hurt me.

TO: Whey don ya til me who ya bit in?

SWG: (crying) I have no idea what you are saying.

HC: He said who did you bet on.

SWG: I bet on you guys. I swear. Please let me go.

HC: Let him go.

Tommy lets him go and SWG falls to his knees at the feet of Harper & Tommy. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a hanky to wipe his face and blow his nose. A small white slip also falls out of his pocket.

TO: Whots dis? (picks up the slip) Eh ‘Arpa lek et dis.

The slip is a bet placed on The Team From Down Under.

SWG: (starts crying again) It isn’t my bet. It is for my brother. I swear.

HC: We aren’t buying it.

Harper & Tommy grab Skinny White Guy and level hi with The Triple 6. Tommy then stuffs the slips into his mouth. Harper walks over to BI1 and BI2 and gives them both another stiff kick to the face keeping them down while Tommy collects all the money from the poker game that belongs to him and Harper. Harper & Tommy walk out of room leaving the three men lying and broken tables and glass spread over the floor.

End Scene

[mooseheadjack]

*Moosehead Jack starts to come to. After a few moments, he's fully concious. He struggles to move, but realizes he is chained up. The room is hot. He determines that he is in a boiler room somewhere by the temperature of the room and all the pipes that are around. He hears a metal door open and the sound of a hot hot fire. The sound continues for a couple minutes before the metal clang of the door closing is heard. Footsteps walk towards MHJ from behind him. Finally, Niles Anderson reveals himself. In his hand is a branding iron. It looks to be very hot.*

Niles - You're going to love this. I got this idea from Beasts tatoo a while back. But tatoos can be removed. So I decided to be a bit more creative.

MHJ - You better watch what you do Niles. When I get away, you will regret it, Trust me.

Niles - You are so full of shit, Moose. You don't get it, do you? You're on your own right now. No one knows where you are but me! Hell, I didn't even let my lackies in on this one. Why? Because I am better than you!

MHJ - Keep telling yourself that.

*Niles cracks a great big smile at that. He quickly jabs the branding iron onto MHJ's chest. MHJ bites his lip, barely suppressing his agony. Niles keeps the iron there for a full minute. When he removes it, the words "100PM's Bitch" are written on MHJ's left pectoral.*

MHJ - That all you got, punk?

Niles - I can't say I'm not impressed. You'll scream soon enough though. And now you'll never forget me. Enjoy the brand. I'll be back later.

MHJ - I'll make you my bitch soon enough, Niles.

*On that note, Niles takes his branding iron and smacks MHJ over the head with it, knocking him unconcious. Fade to Black.*

[mooseheadjack]

*Drink & Destroy arrive in the parking lot of the arena, riding in FF Capslock's 1962 VW Microbus. GM theRick is standing outside.*

GMtR - I'm looking for my car.

FFC - We just got here.

GMtR - I know I parked it here somewhere.

FFC - Are you sure? You look a little frazzled.

GMtR - Someone stole my CAR!

Stank - Relax man. You probably parked it in a different lot.

*Rick storms back into the arena*

FFC - What's his deal?

Stank - Beats me.

FFC - Well let's go get... waitaminute. Is that Ax & Cole coming this way?... HIDE!

*Stank & FFC hide behind a dumpster*

Cole - Hee hee. Did you SEE the look on Rick's face? Priceless!

Ax - Yeah. Serves him right for messing with us. We've just hit the tip of the iceberg with him. Firechild has something else brewing.

Cole - Yeah did he tell you?

Ax - Nope.

Cole - Well whatever it is, it's gotta... Whoa wait... isn't this FATlock's van?

Ax - They're here. Let's g...

*Before Ax can finish that thought he is TACKLED by Stank into the side of the van. The left van door falls off. FFC grabs Cole and slams him into the side of the van where the other van door falls off. Stank & FFC pick up the detached doors of the van. 3 Piece set stagger between the door wielding ex - champs. CON - PIECES of the VAN -TO! is delivered to the Tag Team champions! Ax & Cole are OUT! Drink & Destroy puts the BOOT to them both before walking away.

Stank - Damn that felt good! We haven't done THAT move in a while.

FFC - I just got that bus fixed. I put a new diesel engine in it and everything.

Stank - No wonder it was so loud.

FFC - Hey, with gas prices the way they are, just be glad I'm not charging you for the ride.

[mooseheadjack]

*The Aussies are in a back room of Wrangler Jane's House of Ill Repute*

OBJ: I suppose we should head over to the arena soon.

GB: We've got plenty of time. Besides, Flair's not done yet.

WBK (looking at watch): I know he always talks about "all night long" but this is getting ridiculous.

OBJ: Worried about your record, Wally?

WBK:He's not even close yet, although the name of the town does seem to inspire him. That reminds me, I've got to see if that special order arrived for Phil.

*Flair struts into the room, followed by Wrangler Jane*

RF: WHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPACE MOUNTAIN!!!!WHOOOOOO!!!

WJ: Wally, you'd best be avoiding the casino. Couple of wrassler fellers got into a tussle with some of the locals.

WBK: No worries, Janie, we've got to get the Nature Boy back to his sandwich table. He left the Evil Wizard in charge.

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

*Back at the sandwich table, a crowd has gathered.

EW: The ratio of people to sandwiches is too great.

[mooseheadjack]

(Canadian Dragon is WALKING when he runs right into Uncle Entity and Jesse Garon)

Uncle Entity: Well, well if it isn't the former OOWF Champion and current number one contender to the Onslaught title. A title which he seems to care nothing about.

Canadian Dragon: Hello Entity, Garon. To what do I owe the pleasure?

UE: I am here to put you on notice. Your days of chasing the World Title need to be put on the back burner as you confront the very real threat posed by the two of us.

CD: But, I don't consider the two of you much of a threat, nor do I consider the Onslaught Title much of a prize.

UE: Not much of a threat? Show him how threatening we can be Garon.

(Just then Jesse Garon puts a cattle prod up to Canadian Dragon's chest and shocks the shit out of him. Dragon falls and both Garon and Entity start kicking and punching his prone body.)

Fade out...