BOB Presents: As A Result Of Burnout, Vol. 4!

This isn't our show....Well, it is NOW!

[A graphic appears on the screen. It looks exactly like those two sentences up there. Confused? You're supposed to be. After all, you're drunk. And this is just a very bad dream. Plus, it beats a Best Of show. Too much editing and research for that. So, BOB proudly presents a federation that could just as easily be BOB's second cousin three times removed. Independent Spirit Wrestling. Enjoy.]

[We kick things off in the coat check/entrance of Castillo’s Bar & Grill. There’s a huge line-up of wrestling fans that goes seems to keep on going right out the front door. Mindy, better known as Mitch Brzezinski’s valet, is moving like lightening to take everyone’s coats and take the cover charge. The bouncer, Moe, is slowly shuffling people into the bar while checking the ID’s of others.]

Mindy: Oh my god, Moe! Where are all these people coming from?!

Moe: I’ve got a pretty good idea. Hey…if ya’ll are here to see some wrestling, gimme a "hell yeah."

People Waiting in Line: HELL YEAH!!

Moe: Thought so.

[The people continue to be shuffled into the main area of Castillo’s. Eric "The Eric" Eric, showing some slightly more toned muscles, dashes down the stairs and taps on Moe’s shoulder. Moe keeps checking ID’s without even batting an eyelash and Eric flails his arms behind him.]

EEE: Do ya see this!? Do ya see this?! This is GREAT! This is like…

Moe: Eric…

EEE: No really! I tell ya! Jon Rose is a genius, man!

Moe: Eric, I’m kinda busy.

EEE: Oh…right. Listen, when you’ve got a second, can you help Tony with some kegs? He had to order some extras at the last minute from his cousin across town.

Moe: Can’t you get, like, that military guy to do it?

EEE: Nope. He’s trying on different stockings for…

Moe: Never mind, I don’t want to know.

[Eric dashes back up the stairs and into the main area of Castillo’s. The tables have been all stacked up in the back and the chairs are set up in rows, just like a wrestling event. The entire place is paced from one end to the other with various wrestling fans of all ages. The eight college guys have seemingly turned into the thirty college guys. They all lucked out and got front row seats. Johnny is still wearing the hard hat that was given to him by Brzezinski a few weeks ago. The only college guy oddly missing is Eddie.]

The four old guys in the back seem to be joined by some younger, teenage boys who are more than likely their grandchildren. Oddly missing from their table is the half dozen empty pitchers of beer, which is replaced by a couple of pitchers of Coca-Cola.

In the balcony upstairs, there’s a bustling of people as well. Fans are leaning over the short wall to get a bird’s eye view of the ring below. There are half a dozen different cracks of cue balls being heard as the pool tables are being used

Behind the bar, both Tony Castillo and his assistant, Norv are breezing back and forth and up and down serving drinks to their customers.]

Norv: Hey Tony, about my raise?

TC: Not…now.

Norv: [Leans towards Tony to hear him better.] What!?

TC: NOT….NOW! SERVE!

Norv: Right. Serve.

[Eric rushes up behind the bar and taps on Tony’s shoulder.]

EEE: Okay, I couldn’t get Moe to help, but…

TC: Get someone. We need the beer here YESTERDAY.

EEE: But…

TC: GO!

EEE: Yipe!

[Eric darts away from the bar, past a smiling Jon Rose at the timekeeper’s table, and disappears up the stairs. Jon Rose keeps eyeing the crowd, looking at his clipboard and writing notes on it along the way. The kitchen doors swing open and Chuck, Castillo’s cook, runs up to Rose holding a metal soup ladle.]

C: Awfully crowded in there, Jon.

JR: I know and I’m sorry. Getting any help, at least?

C: Yeah, who knew that Blue guy knew the recipe to the wings.

JR: That was part of his signing.

C: Scary thing is, I don’t know if you’re kidding or not.

[Chuck disappears back into the kitchen as Rose looks at the bustling crowd. Muttering among each other, they’re waiting with bated breath for the night of wrestling to begin. Rose writes a few more things on his clipboard one last time, checks his watch, and then makes his way into the ring.]

Mikey: You up to go to the bathroom or are ya starting?

JR: Starting.

Zach: Really!?

JR: Yep.

[Mikey suddenly bolts to his feet and turns to face the brimming audience behind him.]

Mikey: They’re STARTING!

[The whole crowd erupts in cheers, hoots and hollers. The sounds of a stampede are heard upstairs are people of all sizes lean over the short wall of the balcony to look down.

Jon Rose, joined along with another momentous amount of applause, climbs into the ring with a microphone in hand.]

JR: Ladies and gentlemen...welcome BACK to Independent Spirit Wrestling!

[The crowd responds with the enthusiasm of a packed, slightly drunken crowd. All thirty of the college guys pop to their feet for an arousing chant of…]

All 30 College Guys: AYE-ESS-DUB! AYE-ESS-DUB!

JR: We’re working on buying the initials, guys! Keep it up!

The Whole Crowd: AYE-ESS-DUB! AYE-ESS DUB!

[Jon Rose raises a hand in the air, telling the crowd to calm down. After a minute or two of more hooting and hollering, they do indeed calm down.]

JR: Tonight, we have the first round of the Jon Rose Invitational Tournament. If my assistant were here…

EEE: [From above.] Hey boss! Catch!

[Jon Rose looks up and a black sack flies down from the upstairs area. With a thud on the mat, the sack drops just in front of Rose’s feet.]

JR: Well then. [Picks up and opens the black sack.] The winner of the tournament will be the first Independent Spirit Wrestling champion and will be giving the honor…the privilege of naming…this…

[Rose pulls out a gold Championship belt with black leather straps. Shaped in the form of winged eagle, the belt glistens in the bright lights. The actual designs on the belt are left intentionally blank.]

JR: This is the general design, but we can afford to have it redesigned in whatever shape or form that the tournament winner desires.

Arthur: Does that mean Sherrick could make it into his own image?

Jake: Like an ass?

[The audience bursts into laughter and Jon Rose can’t help but give a sly grin himself.]

JR: Yes, even Sherrick has a chance. A very bare minimal chance but still a chance.

Eddie: He still sucks!

Crowd: YEAH!

[Rose continues on without acknowledging the comment.]

JR: To kick things off tonight, we have the first match of the tournament. With my lowly assistant…

EEE: [From somewhere in the bar.] HEY!

JR: …busy running around doing errands for me, I will personally be doing all ring announcing tonight!

Tournament Round One
Captain Wonder VS Mr. Saturday Night
Referee: Tony Castillo
Match Writer: Nick Piers

["Fanfare" or the Masterpiece Theatre theme begins to play through the shoddy Castillo speakers.]

JR: The first Tournament match is scheduled for one fall and is a LOSER LEAVES THE FED MATCH!

[With a giant grin on his face, Captain Wonder strides through the kitchen’s swinging door. He poses with his hands on his hips and sticks his…well, he wants to stick his chest out, but it ends up being his gut sticking out.]

JR: First, from the Trailer Park of Justice! In Moosejaw, Saskatchewan!

[The kitchen door swings closed behind the Captain. He doesn’t seem to notice that his long red cape has caught in the door. He takes a step forward and is reeled back with the cape around his throat.]

Toasty: Just leave it behind!

CW: Good idea, citizen!

[The Wondrous One undoes the clasp around his neck and lets the rest of the cape fall to the floor. In his neon green body suit, he strides towards the ring with as much class as a five hundred pound man in a green suit with purple kneepads and elbow pads can muster.]

JR: Weighing in four hundred and thirty six pounds!

Steve: He’s lost weight!

JR: He is…the man…the myth…the LEGEND…CAPTAIN WONDER!!!

[The crowd bellows out in a series of cheers and mixed laughter at the sight before them. The Wondrous One climbs up to a one-knee position on the apron and gives his best muscle pose. He curls his arms up and his fists point towards his head. He then climbs to his feet and climbs between the bottom and middle rope into the ring. The Captain joyously shakes Jon Rose’s hand and then takes his place in one of the corners of the ring.]

JR: His opponent…

["Shoot to Thrill" by AC/DC replaces "Fanfare" as Mr. Saturday Night leaps out of the kitchen area as well and just barely avoids tripping over Wonder’s cape.]

From behind the bar, Tony slaps Norv on the back.]

TC: Take over for me, Norv. I’ve got a match to ref.

Norv: But…

TC: You’ll be fine. Orders drop down during a match.

[Tony throws off his apron, rushes from behind the bar and dives under the bottom rope into the ring. While Mr. Saturday Night does some shadow boxing on the way to the ring, Jon Rose continues the introductions.]

JR: Weighing in at two hundred and twenty one pounds, hailing from Portland, Maine!

[MSN leaps up to the apron and leapfrogs over the top rope into the ring. He poses while bouncing around in a circle.]

JR: MISTER SATURDAY NIGHT!!

Toasty: He’s ONE OF A KIND!

MSN: Okay, doing it once was fine, but this is nuts, guys!

[The crowd suddenly opens up into a massive chant. Mr. Saturday Night kicks the bottom rope and turns his back on Wonder as he shouts at the crowd to stop.]

The Whole F’N Crowd: ONE-OF-A-KIND! *Clap-clap! Clap-clap-clap!*

MSN: SHUT UP! I hate that chant!

[While the crowd continues to chant, Saturday Night is suddenly whirled around by Captain Wonder! The Wondrous One pulls his arm back and levels MSN with a massive right hand punch!]

Steve: The Wonder Punch!

Brian: What?

Steve: The…Wonder…Punch?

Johnny: You need help.

Steve: Shut up, you Village People reject.

[Jon Rose has all ready exited the ring and moving quickly to the timekeeper’s table.

*Ding-Ding-Ding!*]

CW: Justice shall be served, evil doer!

MSN: But I’m a good guy!

CW: LIES!

[Wonder rocks MSN with another massive right hand!]

Steve: Another Wonder Punch!

[Wonder grabs MSN by the arm, pushes him against the ropes and whips him against the opposite ropes. The Wondrous One comes charging back with a BIIIIG clothesline that causes MSN to do a completely 360 in the air!]

Steve: The Wonder Line!

[Steve’s fellow college mates look at him in confusion.]

Steve: Oh come on, how often are we gonna see him actually in control?

[Captain Wonder quickly goes for the pin!

One!

Kick out!]

MSN: Get OFFA me, you freak!

CW: You WILL fall, evil one!

[Mr. Saturday Night leaps to his feet with a kip-up! Captain reaches to grab MSN by the hair, but MSN rolls forward, bounces off the ropes behind Wonder and comes back with a spinning heel kick that takes Wonder off his feet! MSN quickly goes for the pin!

One!!

Two!!

Thr-

KICK OUT! The whole bar erupts in a commotion unheard of for the establishment! Captain Wonder has a bit more left in the tank than usual. Which is none at all, usually.]

MSN: Stop cheering him! What does he have that I don’t!?

Brian: About two hundred more pounds!

Jack: Charisma!

Johnny: A positive attitude!

Toasty: A snazzy outfit!

MSN: Okay, okay! Geez!

[Captain Wonder suddenly rolls MSN up from behind in a school boy pin!]

Steve: The Wonder Roll Up!

One!!

Two!!!

Kickout!

[The Captain manages to hold onto MSN this time and whips him into the turnbuckle. MSN, still shocked from the outcry against him, reels from the impact and rests there.]

CW: Fear not, citizens! This foul one shall no longer desecrate your entertainment!
Toasty: INCOMING!!!!

[The Wondrous One leans against the turnbuckles on the opposite side of the ring and charges in….

SPLAT!!!

…and crushes Mr. Saturday Night in an avalanche that shakes the ring and rattles the chains!]

Steve: The Wonder-lanche!

[MSN steps out of the corner by a few steps and seems to be just fine. He raises his arms in the air and points his thumbs towards himself. The crowd chants along with the thumb pointing…]

The Whole F’N Crowd: YOU….STILL…..SUCK!

[Mr. Saturday Night’s eyes glaze over and he flops face down on the mat. Captain Wonder looks to the audience and raises an arm.]

CW: Justice has been served!

Steve: You still have to pin him!

CW: What?

Mikey: You have to pin him to win the match.

CW: Um…oh yeah!

[Captain Wonder bounces off the ropes. He slowly dashes back to where the prone MSN lies. He leaps up…barely…and drops a massive leg drop down on Mr. Saturday Night!]

Steve: The Wonder Leg!

Mikey: Or the Wonder Drop!

[Captain Wonder hooks the leg for the pin attempt!

One! Two!!

Like there was any doubt…

THREE!!!! The whole bar erupts in another joyous celebration of Captain Wonder’s first official win in twenty years!]

*Ding-ding-ding!*

JR: [From the timekeeper’s table.] The winner of this match….CAPTAAAAAIN! WONDERRRRRR!!!

CW: Thank you, citizens! Thank you! YOU are the ones who are truly wondrous!

[The Captain looks down at MSN and helps him to his feet. As The Wondrous one helps Mr. Saturday Night back to the kitchen, Jon Rose gets back in the ring, microphone in hand.]

JR: Well, now that the first match is out of the way and the first of our spring cleaning is over with, I’d like to take the opportunity to thank Mr. Saturday Night for his employment.

[The crowd, mostly with college guy Toasty’s help, break out into a song.]

Crowd: Na-na-na-na! Na-na-na-na! Way hey-hey! Goodbye!

JR: Come on, guys.

Toasty: Sorry.

JR: On the bright side, anyone who does not go on in the first round do get some lovely parting gifts.

[Rose looks on his clipboard.]

JR: They get an official Taiwan FROGO Tag Team title belt, courtesy of Mitch Brzezinski.

Mindy: [From the coat check area.] Wahoo!

JR: …an official Captain Wonder Zorro mask with commemorative plaque to remind them of their place here in Independent Spirit Wrestling.

Crowd: OHHHH!

JR: …and a box of frozen spicy chicken wings, courtesy of our man Tony Castillo!

[Tony waves as he dives back out of the ring and behind to bar to help scramble drinks together with his assistant, Norv.]

JR: In the meantime, let’s keep the action rolling with our next match!

Tournament Round One
"Babyface" Mitch Brzezinski VS. "Smooth Criminal" Genshun Osakawa
Referee: Tony Castillo
Match Writer: Nick Piers

["I am Santa Claus" by Twisted Radio (a filk of Black Sabbath's "Iron Man") plays. Out comes Mindy the grooming consultant in a rather fetching green velvet dress, topped off by pointy green elf shoes and a pointy green hat with a bell on it.]

New college guy: TAKE IT OFF!!!

Zach: Sit down, Brad. She's a classy lady and this is a classy promotion, it's not going to happen.
New college guy (Brad): SHOW US YOUR TAH-TAHS!!!

[Zach makes the universal "cut" motion towards Tony and Norv and points at the offending chanter.]

Norv: No problem. It's Fresca for Brad for here on out.

Brad: I HAVE BEADS!!!

[Mindy shrugs and hands him some extra string to tie the loose beads on, as we see a sleigh approaching, pulled by eight burros with horns taped on. Not just any sleigh, either, it has a wicked purple flamejob and hydraulics. And not just any Santa, either, mind you, he's wearing the traditional fur-trimmed yellow coveralls and hard hat and he forgot to cover up his "VENJANCE" tattoo,. Yes, of course, it's Mitch Brzezinski!]

MB: Ho, ho, ho! And a merry sometime in January to all! Since I understand that Mr. Osakawa is having some visa problems -- Of course, this is Canada, and they wouldn't even let a psychotic Satanist in, much less Michael Jackson...

Crowd: CA-NA-DA!!! CA-NA-DA!!!

MB: So I guess Genshun doesn't get his present, the complete first season of "Malcolm in the Middle" on DVD. I'm sure he would have enjoyed it. But everybody else gets theirs!

For Mr. Saturday Night, a first-class trip across the international date line, courtesy of Borneo Airways. Experience two, count it...

[Mitch holds out a finger.]

One...

[He holds out another finger.]

TWO!!! Saturday nights, one in beautiful Honolulu and the other one in swinging Sydney, Australia.

[Mindy does the "astonished model" look upon sight of the tickets.]

For Steve Stone, an original piece of movie memorabilia. Yes, that's right, it's the actual pitchfork used by Pauly Shore in the legendary film "Son-In-Law", which I believe was directed by Alfred Hitchcock.

[Mitch holds up the pitchfork as Mindy looks puzzled.]

For Captain Wonder, this Stretchoflex Spandex Expander. Eat all the wings you want and still use your superpowers to fight crime, big guy!

For Dane Black, here's a gift certificate everyone wants... It says, "Good for one ass-kicking from Mitch Brzezinski". Oh, wait, I hear he may not even be here... So, you know what?

Mindy: What?

Mitch: I guess Lark Fenris gets two Mitch Brzezinski ass-kicking gift certificates!

For Little Blue Super Jew, well what else but a dreidel? But not just any dreidel. It’s the virtual Dreidel 2K4 for the X-Box! Yes, marvel as it spins in glorious 3D! Experience the joy of Hanukkah all year round!

For Abordar, well, you'll see it... I understand Eddie's supposed to bring it...

For Brother Superior, what can you give the man who has everything and is better than you at absolutely everything? CASH!!! Here's a dollar, a quarter, two more quarters, two dimes, and four pennies... American.

Mindy, how much is that?

Mindy: A buck ninety-nine.

Crowd: BUCK NINETY-NINE!

Mitch: Perfect.

For Thorin Stonehand, a perfect dwarven gift... Elevator shoes! Yes, at Elation Boot-Lift Company, they'll fix you right up with a pair of custom-made elevator dwarven boots that'll let you chokeslam some people!

For Sherrick, well, the insanely hardcore are so hard to buy for. So I just got him this nice belt. Yep, that's right, it's a Taiwan FROGGO belt, I have a case of them. But instead of a cute little frog on it -- It has a nice chunk of kryptonite! Let's see those superheroes mess with you now!

And of course, all the regulars in the crowd get belts, autographed by all of us here at ISW, see: Here's my signature, Thorin's dwarven runes, Mr. Saturday Night's crayoned X...

But finally, for the men who make this place possible:

For Jon Rose, they don't make "World's Greatest Wrestling Promoter" mugs, so you'll have to settle for that rebuilt DeLorean out back...

For Tony Castillo, maker of the world's greatest chicken wings, one whole elephant rendered into creamy lard... Oops, I gave away the secret ingredient...

And finally, for Cadwell Warner, a highly fair and just ref, something I picked up on eBay that should always stand as, well, a monument to your fair counting... That's right, a 3-ton stone Ten Commandments monument! It's just a replica.

And for my beloved Mindy, I couldn't exactly wheel an oceanfront condo in the building, now could I? Because, then, it wouldn't be oceanfront property, would it?

[Mindy hugs Mitch, and then remembers something…]

Mindy: You forgot Norv.

Mitch: No, I didn't, he got Osakawa's gift. And so, a merry January to all and to all a good night!

[Mitch stands next to the ring with Mindy, basking in the cheers of the crowd as some bar staff remove his sleigh. Triple E enters the ring and picks up the ring mic. Strangely, Triple E is wearing a bathrobe.]

Triple E: Ladies and gentlemen, as Mr. Brzezinski mentioned, I regret to inform you that Genshun Osakawa cannot be here. We've received a call from his lawyer, who says he's tied up with legal affairs. Therefore, a new opponent will be announced for Mitch Brzezinski. According to Lyle Sooya, if Genshun is taken out of the tournament, he will sue ISW.

Steve: Wait, who can't be here?

Zach: That Michael Jackson guy from the last show.

Steve: What? No way! That guy ruled! He totally kicked ass!

[The college guys exchange a few questioning glances amongst each other. Toasty leans in to explain.]

Toasty (whispering): Steve loves Michael Jackson. Ever since he was a little kid, he's just been obsessed with the guy.

Johnny: So that transferred over to Genshun?

Toasty (shrugging): I guess so.

Steve (loudly): Man, I can't believe Genshun isn't here! That totally sucks!

Triple E (glancing at Steve): Don't worry fans; Genshun should be here later tonight.

Steve: YEAH!

Triple E: But in the meantime, I'm glad to announce his neeeeew opponent...

[Triple E glances around the ring, but there's no one to hand the mic to. He motions for Tony to come over, then hands Tony the mic. Eric exits the ring and grabs a bottle of water from the bar, then goes into the bathroom.]

Tony: I am proud to introduce Mitch's new opponent for the night: Eric "The Eric" Eric -- TRIIIIIIIPLE EEEEEEEEE!

["Groove is in the Heart" by Dee-Lite blasts from the sound system as Triple E explodes from the bathroom! He lets the bathrobe fall from his shoulders, revealing a pair of boxing trunks, then tosses the robe to a group of people who are pumping their fists and cheering wildly for him.]

Mikey: Who the heck are those guys?

[The group are all wearing "Hi! My Name Is" nametags, and despite their cheering, none of them seem to be smiling very much.]

Zach: I dunno, man. That's weird.

[Triple E points to each member of the club as he walks past, saying "I'm gonna bring a smile to you, and you, and you, and you!" as they pat him on the back. Triple E then takes a drink of water and pours the rest over his head. He holds his arms out and sticks out his chest, preparing to spray the water, but chokes on some and doubles over coughing. He regains his composure, gives his head a shake and keeps walking to the ring.

Tony gets called back to the bar, and Mitch takes the microphone from him as he leaves. Eric's music fades away.]

Mitch: Ladies and gentlemen, I want to commend young Eric! I know that group he's with! They're the S.L.A.!

Zach: The sleigh?

Mitch: "Smiles Lost Anonymous"! This is a great thing you're doing here Eric, trying to help these poor, poor people regain their smiles.

Triple E: It's more than you ever did, you freak! (he snorts) Helpful my ass!

[Mitch is a little taken aback.]

Mitch: Now now, son, I do a lot of good for this community!

Triple E: You do not! In fact, all you do is suck!

Mitch: That is a very poorly reasoned statement, Eric.

(Hi! My Name Is) Brian: Shut up, Brzezinski! You couldn't help an old lady fall down and break her hip!

Mitch: Yes I could! I've helped several old ladies hurt themselves!

(Hi! My Name Is) Sarah: This do-gooder doesn't know what it's like to suffer! He doesn't know what it's like to lose your smile! Show him what it's like, Eric! DESTROY HIM!!

Mitch (shielding Mindy and backing away slowly): Okay now, there's no need for that... All I'm looking for is a nice friendly match, with sportsmanship.

[Triple E emits a furious battle cry and charges toward Mitch. Mindy flees in terror as Mitch raises his hands into a battle stance, emitting a terrifying battle shriek of his own!]

Tournament Round One
"Babyface" Mitch Brzezinski VS. Eric "The Eric" Eric

Referee: N/A
Match Writer: Keith McNally

[Mitch and Triple E start slapping each other like little girls.]

Mitch: Quit it!

Triple E: No, you quit it!

[The college guys drop their heads in shame.]

Zach: Oh, this is embarassing...

MB: You hit like a girl!

Triple E: You look like a girl!

MB: You *are* a girl!

Triple E: Take it back!

MB: Make me!

Triple E: I don't make garbage, I compact it!

MB: Compact this!

[Mitch gains the upper hand in the slap-fight and slides closer, hooking Eric into a head lock!]

Mitch: Aha! Not so tough now, are you, toughy?

(Hi! My Name Is) Brenda: C'mon, Eric! You can beat him!

Mitch: Let me help you out a little, Eric. I see that you don't know how to wrestle very well. So…(He locks the headlock in tighter) I'm gonna help you learn!

Triple E: Wrestle? Ha! *cough!* You couldn't wrestle...your way out from under Captain Wonder's arm flab!

Zach (to Mikey): That's probably true, actually.

[Triple E manages to fight his way out of the headlock and twists Mitch's arm behind his back.]

Mitch: Ow! OWWW!! That hurts!

[The faces of Eric's S.L.A. group begin to brighten slightly. Eric cinches in Mitch's arm even tighter, and their smiles grow a little more.]

(Hi! My Name Is) Brian: You've got him, Eric! You've got him! You're gonna win! You're actually gonna-

[Mitch summons all his strength and flips Eric over his shoulder. Eric falls hard to the ground, crying out in pain. He arches his back and rests a hand against his spine, as the smiles of the S.L.A. group disappear completely.

Mitch climbs quickly onto the apron, and then executes a haphazard Escalator to Heaven swan dive headbutt. He connects awkwardly with Triple E's hip, causing Triple E to writhe in even more pain as Mitch reaches up to his own aching head. Mitch shakes it off and covers Triple E, and the total absence of a ref, as well as the fact that the match has never officially started, don't seem to faze the crowd a bit.]

Crowd: ONE! TWO! THREEEEEE!!!!!

[Cheers go up all over the bar, except for Eric's S.L.A. group, who hang their heads as they start to shuffle for the door.]

(Hi! My Name Is) Kevin: It's over... it's all over... Eric lost in less than two minutes...

Tony: Hey, you folks wanna try some wings? Have a beer? C'mon, maybe it'll cheer you up!

(Hi! My Name Is) Brian (stopping to look back): Wings?

Mitch: Yeah, wings! On me, I'll buy you each a dozen! So get back in here and sit down!

[The S.L.A. group hesitate, then start to inch back toward their table.]

Mitch: Just one thing I gotta do first...

[Mitch takes the ring mic and holds it next to Eric's mouth, raising an eyebrow expectantly.]

Triple E: The winner... the winner... *cough* Oh, my hip...

Mitch: Here, let me help you with that. (taking the mic) The winner and moving on to the next round, your friend and mine, MIIIITCH BRZEZINSKIIII!

Mikey: How many "z's" are in Brzezinski?

Zach: Too many.

[Mitch and Mindy help Eric up, and they hobble toward the S.L.A. table.]

MB: Order some wings for Eric, too! (to Eric) That was a hell of a fight. Honestly, I think I learned a couple of moves from you.

EEE: Really?

MB: Really. You're a hell of a brawler, kid.

Mindy: It's true.

EEE: I think... maybe... *cough* Maybe Mitch is just really bad...

MB: Hey, be nice, now! There are kids in India who don't even know what wrestling is!

EEE: ...huh?

Mitch: Just enjoy your wings.

[They sit Eric at the S.L.A. table and Mitch gives him a pat on the back as a waitress brings tasty wings for all.]

Bruno (all smiles): That Mitch, he's a class act.

Riley: You're just saying that because he knocked your hernia back into place last week.

Bruno: Damn right! He made me some home-made ulcer medicine, too. No more doctors for me! From now it's only Dr. Brezininski!

[The other old guys exchange worried looks.]

(Hi! My name is…) Kevin: Man, you made our night, Eric.

(Hi! My name is…) Brenda: Yeah! Wrestling a free wings, who woulda thought we’d enjoy it.

College Guy Steve: (Turns around.) Does that mean you guys are smiling?

(Hi! My name is…) Brenda: No, but we feel better.

[Jon Rose shouts from the announcing table.]

JR: Hey Eric, if you’re up to it, do you want to continue the announcing?

EEE: WOULD I!

[Triple E leaps to his feet, gigantic smile on his face and dives under the bottom rope to announce the next match.]

Tournament Round One
Dane Black VS Steven Stone
Referee: Tony Castillo
Match Writer: Keith McNally

Triple E: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is part of the first round of the elimination tournament. And you know what that means...

Crowd: LOSER LEAVES THE FED!!

Triple E: That is correct! All losers are gone. Not losers in life, not losers at board games; only losers at wrestling. That's what we're concerned with here. First, from the kitchen, hailing from... uh...

[Triple E looks to the crowd for help. Nothing but blank faces.]

Triple E: Well, weighing in at, I dunno, about 200 pounds or so... STEEEEVEN STOOOOOONE!

[As the kitchen door opens, a giant pile of dishes crashes to the ground. Stone steps over them and walks to the ring cockily, wearing his aviator sunglasses. Tony dashes from behind the bar.]

Tony: Holy frig, did you just knock over all those dishes?

Stone: Not now, baby. I've got work to do.

Tony: That was a whole pile of dishes! Can't you watch what you're doing back there?

Stone (stopping his approach to the ring to turn to Tony and poke him in the ribs): HEY. I'm not some gopher, I'm a star. Get somebody else to worry about the dishes. It ain't my concern.

[Stone continues his strut to the ring, smiling as the crowd boos him.]

Mikey: Wow, what a dick.

Zach: Show some respect to Tony! And the dishes! Those dishes are what we eat stuff on!

[Stone ignores the catcalls, climbing into the ring with a smile, waving to the crowd.]

Triple E: And from the bathroom, hopefully hailing from somewhere other than said bathroom, weighing in at somewhat more than Steven Stone... DAAAAAAAANE BLAAAAAAACK!

[Dane kicks open the door of the bathroom so hard that he splinters the wood, a big chunk of the door flying off and skidding across the floor.]

Tony: Ah, for pete's sake!

[Dane stalks to the ring with an intense look on his face, eyes focused on Stone. He bumps into a patron on the way to the ring, spilling the guy's beer. Tony takes off his apron.]

Tony: That's it. I'm reffing this match.

[Cheers of "TONY! TONY! TONY!" resound through the bar as Tony climbs into the ring. While trying not to show it, both wrestlers are aware that Tony got a far better crowd response than either of they did.

The bell rings as Triple E exits the ring. The match starts with Stone getting a quick kick to Dane's midsection, doubling him over, and then whacking him in the head with a downward punch. Dane falls to his knees.]

Zach: Remember the olden days when a closed fist wasn't allowed in wrestling?

Steve: Not really...

[Stone pulls back for another blow, but Dane points at the far corner of the bar.]

Dane: Look! Somebody dropped the jar of pickled eggs!

Tony (swinging his head around): What? Where?

[Dane takes advantage of Tony's wavering attention to give Stone a vicious low blow! The crowd "Oooohs!" sympathetically.]

Tony: Wait a second, we don't have pickled eggs here...

Bruno (scooping an egg from a jar on his table): Speak for yourself, sonny!

Tony: Hey! What did I tell you about bringing outside food into the bar?

Bruno: To bring enough for everybody?

Tony: No! I said don't bring any!

Bruno (rolling his eyes): Sorry, MOM.

[Tony shakes his head and turns back to the action to find Dane Black attacking Stone with a tire iron.]

Tony: What the..? Where the hell did that come from? Do you wanna be disqualified?

Dane: Why not, huh? (Dane throws down the iron and walks up to Tony, getting in his face.) Why not throw me out? Why not be like all the rest? I was disqualified from school, I was disqualified from my family, I was disqualified from little league, the only thing I wasn't disqualified from was JAIL! I WAS DISQUALIFIED FROM LIFE! Nobody loves me! Nobody cares! So go ahead Tony, be like all the rest! Give up on me! It's all I deserve! In fact, I-

Tony: Okay! Shut up! Jeez! Just keep it clean, will ya? (To himself) Whiny little bastard...

Stone (struggling to his feet): Is this the end... of zombie Shakespeare?

Mike: I think Stone's wacked. He's quoting tv instead of movies.

Steve: Is that what he did? Quote movies?

Mike: Well, and wrestled.

Steve: See, now why is that? Why can't a wrestler just be a wrestler? Why does he have to excessively handicap himself or be extra helpful, or be an obese high flyer?

Zach: Hey, those aren't gimmicks! Brother Superior *has* to handicap himself! It's the only way! He's just too damn good!

Jack: And Mitch is just a good man! Way gooder than you, Steve!

Steve: Gooder? That's not a word!

Jack: Well if you were more like Mitch, you would've been nice enough not to point that out.

Brian: And Abordar ain't a gimmick either. He's just a fat guy. He can't help it, he loves food.

Steve: I think their real gimmick is to trick you suckers into marking out for them. Speaking of which, there's still a match going on.

Zach: Oh yeah.

Jack: Right...

[They turn back to the ring to see Dane strangling Stone with a jump rope, and Tony asking "Where the hell did you get that?"]

Bruno (to his table of old folk at the back): So, who do you think's gonna win? The pansy, or the dumbass?

Riley: I think Tony could take 'em both.

Arthur: Hell yeah. Hey Tony! Teach 'em some respect! Show 'em who's boss!

[In the ring Tony has regained order, yanking the jump rope from Dane's hands.]

Tony: What did I tell you, Black? No more cheating! You hear me?

[As Tony is lecturing Dane, Stone is lying gasping on the mat. Stone reaches into his tights and pulls out a lighter, then sneaks his arm between Tony's legs and flicks the lighter on. He regains his breath as he holds the lighter carefully against Dane's foot.]

Dane: It's not my fault! I didn't bring the jump rope! Somebody threw it into the ring! I shouldn't be held accountable for what your patrons do!

Tony (grinning): Bruno! What did I tell you about bringing outside games into the bar? Leave your jump rope at home!

[The entire bar cracks up and Bruno's face goes red.]

Bruno (sputtering): What the- But- That's not my damn jump rope! You watch your back, Castillo! I can drink just as easily at Reggie's down the street!

Zach: Come on, Bruno! You don't wanna go there! The only wrestling they've got is Reggie trying to fit into his disco pants!

[The bar cracks up again, but one anonymous voice in the crowd can be heard saying "I think Reggie's place is pretty cool. He's got a love tester."]

Dane: AHHHH! MY LEG IS ON FIRE!!!!!!

[Dane starts hopping up and down while Stone hides his lighter back in his trunks.]

Tony: Stop jumping! Stop drop and roll! Somebody get me a towel!

Toasty: Here, throw this alcohol on it!

Dane: NO! Are you trying to kill me? OH GOD, THE PAIN!!

[Dane emits a war cry as he runs over to Stone and starts trying to light him on fire with his own leg. Stone pulls away as Triple E runs to the ring with a fire extinguisher. Triple E puts out Dane's leg, and Dane then drops and starts rolling around in the ring, clutching his leg, making sounds of anguish. Tony faces down Stone, who's smirking at the sight of Dane rolling around on the mat.]

Tony: Now how are you gonna explain that? You lit his leg on fire!

Stone: No I didn't.

Tony: Yes you did! How else could it have happened, spontaneous combustion?

Stone: It's only a flesh wound.

Tony: That's it! For the flagrant disregard for the rules shown by both of you, I'm calling for a double DQ! Ring the bell!

Triple E: A double DQ? Then, does that mean..?

Tony: That's right! YOU'RE BOTH OUTTA HERE!

[DING DING DING!!!

Triple E passes the extinguisher to one of the waitresses and grabs the house mic.]

Triple E: On account of dual-jerkiness, rule-breaking and massive safety violations, Dane Black and Steven Stone are now oouuuuuutt of the fed!

Zach: So long, suckers!

Stone: You haven't seen the last of me! It's Chinatown!

Dane: Well, you *have* seen the last of me! Fuck you guys! I'm taking my ball and going the hell home!

Steve: Don't forget your jump rope!

Dane: You're lucky I don't burn this place to the ground!

Riley: You're lucky that other feller didn't burn you to the ground!

Tony: Get these guys out of here! Let's get ready for the next match!

[Moe the bouncer takes Stone and Dane by the arm and drags them both toward the door.]

Toasty: Nah nah nah nah...
Whole bar: NAH NAH NAH NAH... HEY HEY HEY! GOOD BYE!

[The chant continues as Moe takes Dane and Stone to the door and tosses them outside. They land face first next to each other, then get up and dust themselves off. Through the open door their last words can be heard:]

Dane: Man, that was bullshit! I gotta relax. You wanna go to Reggie's, try out that love tester? Maybe we can pick up some chicks. Chicks love injuries.

Stone (looking suspiciously at Dane, then sighing): Ah hell, why not. I got nothing else going on.

[The door to Castillo's slams shut, and Moe nods to himself, satisfied with a job well done.

From the time-keeper’s table, Jon Rose leans over to Eric Eric and whispers in his ear.]

EEE: You sure?

TC: Yeah, go on. I can hold the fort down here.

[Triple E bolts from his chair and disappears somewhere in the upstairs area of the bar.]

Tournament Round One
Brother Superior VS "The Wolf" Lark Fenriz
Referee: Tony Castillo
Match Writer: Joseph Thompson

[Mindy, extremely good stylist, and proud owner of a new oceanfront condo (until she finds out it's in Tucson, Arizona) is filling in for regular barmaid Denise today. Those small-puddles-of-Labatt's-related injuries take a toll on the barmaids around here. She arrives at a table full of random extra college guys.

Random guy #4: Sorry about Brad. One time, he pulled the same stunt at the "We Invited Condoleezza Rice Here So You Could Protest" dinner.

Random Guy #5: Can I get a 40 of Crazy Horse, yo?

Random Girl #1: Something clear.

[Mindy is puzzled.]

Mindy: Hey, Norv, do you have any more of that stuff that takes the color out of the beer?

Random Girl #2: I'll have a double skyhook on the rocks with a Vanilla Dr. Pepper on the side.

Random Guy #1: Uzbek fermented yak-milk here.

Random Guy #2: I'll take a tall Molson in the limited edition Beagle Bros. Brewery label.

Random Guy #3: A bottle of Dom Perignon and your left shoe.

Mindy: But it has a hole in it, sir, you want the right one . . .

["You're The Best Around" by Peter Cetera plays. The crowd quickly picks up the cue for Superior's entrance.]

The old crowd: NO, I AM!!!

Jon Rose: Introducing first, weighing in at, wait, did he have that thing on for this…341 pounds, from the hometown that's a lot better than yours, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, and here to give 199 percent, BROTHER SUPERIOR!!!

[Out comes Brother Superior in his usual attire, except he is wearing an empty clear backpack borrowed from one of Bruno's grandchildren and what looks like one of the bulkiest bulletproof vests ever produced.]

BS: For my next handicap, I will need an assistant. You, the drunken guy with the lampshade on your head chugging the Fresca, come up here.

[Brad staggers into the ring.]

Brad: Crud, dude, you think that other guy's going to shoot you or something?

BS: Eh, he still couldn't beat me. Anyway, Brad, here I have 90 pounds of quality fishing weights, and I would like you to pour them into this backpack.

[Brad opens the top of the backpack slightly and begins pouring the weights in, but unfortunately, school-issue backpacks made after 1998 aren't very durable, it breaks open! Little lead eggs are rolling everywhere!]

BS: No, Mindy, that's not Easter chocolate. Anybody else got a spare backpack?

Norv: M*A*S*H has a spare. It is pink with beads and sequins, though. But it is genuine NATO issue.

BS: That shall do just fine, and it's a good thing I brought more sinkers.

[Norv hands Superior the spare backpack, which would stand out even if it did not have an elaborate beaded beach scene on the back and was not pink. Brad carefully pours the extra weight in. Superior clearly feels the extra weight, which isn't quite the feeling you would get if Captain Wonder sat on
you, but it's close.]

BS: This must be what it feels like to be Lark's mom. Anyway, I am here in this tournament tonight to get rid of some DEAD WEIGHT! When, and I mean WHEN, I defeat this opponent, I will remove the back pack before the next match; then after the next match, the vest. That's right; I will face this final opponent as if he were an equal.

Jack: Whoa.

Johnny: Cool.

BS: I will prove to you why these people need me to handicap myself. "But what about the gimmick?" you'll ask. It wasn't a gimmick! It was a statement! The final opponent surely worked hard to acheive the goal of facing me in combat, and I will respect him for that. Not like a pathetic DOG…

College crowd: FENRIZ' MOM! FENRIZ' MOM!

BS: …standing before me! But first I must relieve the federation of one of its BIGGEST BURDENS! You ready boy? Huh, you ready? Then fetch... DEFEAT!

Jon Rose: And his opponent, weighing in at 275 pounds, from Cleveland, Ohio. . .

Crowd: CLEVELAND SUCKS!

Jon Rose: …once voted "Most Likely To Kill Us All" by all three different high schools he thought he attended, here is "THE WOLF" LARK FENRIZ . . .

["Massacre" by the Berzerker plays, as out comes Lark Fenriz. He's wearing black, he has a lot of tattoos that make him look like the heavy metal section of your local independent record store, he's bald, and has more metal on his face than that poor granddaughter of Arthur's that just got the super-powerful retainer. Of course, Lark's drug-rotted teeth couldn't support one of those, so he can't go there.]

LF: Fetch the defeat, eh? The only thing I'll be fetching is the belt. Got that, Inferior?

[The bell rings. The opening tie-up sequence begins, and we see something more reminiscent of a sumo basho than a wrestling match, what with Superior's weighted vest and the fact that Fenriz isn't exactly small, either. There's a whole lot of pushing and shoving going on.]

Crowd: BO-RING!

Tony: I hope they said "More Wings". Come on, you two; kick the action up a notch, not like these people have seen anything good yet.

[Fenriz, realizing that his opponent's midsection is pretty well protected, sneaks in a low blow…]

Crowd: DING DONG!

[And another…]

Crowd: YOU RANG?

[And yet another, but Brother Superior counters with a belly-to-belly suplex! When gravity kicks in, this one is going to hurt.]

Random Guy #3: This champagne tastes like Molson. You know, we're missing out on some polka. POLKA!

[The "POLKA!" chant picks up and then …CRASH! Fenriz and Superior both hit the mat hard after that suplex, thanks to the law of gravity. Fenriz gets up quickly, but Superior can't. He's like a poor helpless little baby turtle on the Trans-Canada Highway out there!]

Brian: KOOPA TROOPA!

[This chant also gains ground rather quickly as Superior spins around rapidly towards the turnbuckle. He stops, and a look of fear comes over his face. Fenriz jumps on him and begins punching…]

Crowd: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX!

[Then Fenriz realizes that just punching Superior when he can pin him rather easily is pretty senseless. So he covers.

Tony: One…No.

[Superior's shoulder bounced back up! All that weight is positioned so that he is rather difficult to pin. Fenriz tries again.]

Tony: One…Two…No!

[Fenriz, frustrated, begins scowling at the crowd. He spits in Brother Superior's general direction, and then receives a swift kick in the crotch from Superior for his abuse of bodily fluids.]

Crowd: PAY-BACK!

[Finally, Fenriz has had enough. In a rare show of sportsmanship, he attempts to help Brother Superior up! Superior refuses and turns the hand of friendship into a grapple, sending Fenriz atop him, their skulls crashing together like improperly stacked watermelons at the flea market. There is definitely some blood on the post; although it is hard to tell which of them it belongs to. And then…]

Tony: Break!

[Yes, Superior's hands are on the ropes, they just about have to be at this point. But he moves. He's crab-walking! Fenriz is still stunned in the corner, and Superior is heading towards him. Superior is applying the Mandible Claw! Tony Castillo raises Fenriz' hand once…]

Crowd: ONE!

[Tony raises the hand again, and again it drops.]

Crowd: TWO!

[Tony raises the hand again…

…it drops. This match is over! Fenriz is unconscious and Brother Superior can't even get up! ]

BS: I can get up. Really, I can.

JR: Your winner and advancing in the ISW Tournament, at four minutes and fifty-five seconds, BROTHER SUPERIOR!

[Superior hoists himself carefully up using the posts to a chorus of "BUCK NINETY-NINE" from the crowd.]

JR: And now no longer gainfully employed in Independent Spirit Wrestling, "THE WOLF" LARK FENRIZ!!!

Crowd: YOU'VE BEEN DOWN-SIZED! [Clap-clap-clap] YOU'VE BEEN DOWN-SIZED!

[Somewhere outside Castillo’s, Eddie the Clichéd Villain and his new manager Dwayne Casey Malone, er, Mr. Sunday Morning, arrive in a large truck…full of authentic Mexican food! Yep, tamales, tacos, burritos, chile rellenos, and gallons upon gallons of menudo, all for Abordar's eating pleasure! As the aroma of food comes through Castillo's, severely squashing wing sales, they enter the ring to the sounds of Al Green's version of "Amazing Grace"…]

[We see Eddie, the Clichéd Villain, in his usual black tux, top hat, and handlebar mustache, alongside his manager, "Mr. Sunday Morning" Dwayne Malone, wearing a vivid chartreuse leisure suit and carrying the Bible.]

CV: As many of you do not know, because you are such weak-minded fools, I am leaving Nova Scotia. Because it's cold up here, and I don't get sick anyway, so I don't need your namby-pamby socialized medicine!

MSM: Socialized medicine? Pray for your souls! In the form of American money only, please, just toss it in the ring!

[One of Riley's grandkids tosses a penny in the ring.]

Riley: Charlie, you don't feed those people! They're the bad guys! You buy Mitch and Abordar and that Jewish guy food…because we all know they get paid squat.

MSM: This child undervalues his soul…

CV: Yes, I, the Clichéd Villain, am going to…New Blood Wrestling! MUHAHAHA!!! Why? Because they're an even bigger bunch of saps than ISW! Boy, do they stink. And I thought Mr. Saturday Night was bad, they don't even have Mr. 20 Seconds Every Other Tuesday. And since I shouldn't wrestle tonight, what if I got hurt before I could actually wrestle for money…Abordar can pig out and I'll just blow up this place. Later, idiots!

[He places clichéd cartoon bombs on all four ring posts and walks out…]

[From out of the coat check area runs Abordar! The mask he wears looks more like a tattered cloth bag he threw over his head and poked eye holes in it. In fact, it resembles something quite similar to what Jason Vorheez wore in the second Friday the 13th movie.

A: ¡No! ¡Miedo no, bebiendo a gente! And...say, is that food?

[Abordar zips back out the door. Even through the huge wooden doors, we can hear him munching away like a madman at the various stuff in the back of the cold truck.]

One…

[The crowd begins to panic. Castillo calls the bomb squad.]

Two…

Three…

[Mitch Brzezinski comes out to defuse the bombs, which only makes people panic more.]

Mitch: I can do it, I'm taking Bomb Defusing 102 from the Bonnie Franklin Learning Institute.

[He takes out a pair of ordinary scissors…]

Four…

Five…

[Clip. One bomb down.]

Six...

Seven…

[Clip. Two bombs down, two to go.]

Eight…

[BOOM!!! Confetti flies throughout the right side of the bar and it is now clear that the Villain's bombs were harmless special effects. However, it still startles everyone.]

Nine…

[The Clichéd Villain and Mr. Sunday Morning get out from under the ring. The Villain begins cackling like a madman in the middle of the ring.]

CV: You fools! You have merely fallen into the trap known as…

A: ¡Carga! (That’s "Charge!" by the way.)

[Abordar, with a tire iron in one hand, a leg of turkey in the other, charges forth from the coat check room. He tosses the drumstick at Mr. Saturday Morning, who flails as if being attacked by a face hugger from Aliens, and does a complete flip over the top rope. Abordar slides under the bottom rope...

...and absolutely destroys Cliched Villains inards with a massive shot to the gut with the tire iron! The bell rings as the match officially starts!]

Tournament Round One
Abordar VS Clichéd Villain
Referee: Cadwell Warner
Match Writer: Nick Piers

Zach: Aw damn! That’s just….brutal.

Jack: Eddie! Jesus, man! Are you okay?

A: He won’t be when I’m done!

[Abordar tosses the tire iron aside, which Cadwell taps with his foot out of the ring. Eddie, still keeled over, tries to regain his breath…

…but Abordar picks him up from the prone position and powerbombs him down onto the mat! But he doesn’t let go! With sheer strength alone, he picks up the tiny Villain and powerbombs him again! This time, he goes down with Eddie and hooks the leg for a pin!

One!

Two!

Thr---kick out!]

Eddie: Oh my god, he’s trying to kill me!

Jack: Come on, Eddie!

Johnny: (Waterboy impression.) You can do it!

[Abordar picks Eddie up by his black hair. He holds Eddie up in front of him, making him look face-to-face with the massive Luchador.]

A: Don’t take it personally. I need a platform in this tournament.

CV: And the Clichéd Villain is IT! Muaha!

A: Yep.

[HEADBUTT! Abordar, still holding Eddie by the hair, lets loose with a huge headbutt that not only rattles Eddie, but also the chains of the squared circle!]

Zach: Jesus!

[And another headbutt! Abordar, keeping hold of the now slightly lanky Eddie, whips him violently into the turnbuckle. He hooks Eddie’s legs under the two bottom ropes, then hooks his arms around the two top ropes.]

Mikey: Quick! What’s the Spanish version of the Golden Globes?!

Jake: Globos De oro!

Mikey: Thanks!

Jake: De nada!

[Abordar slaps Eddie right in the face!]

Crowd: Woo!

[He then stalks closer to him.......

AND RIPS EDDIE’S HANDLEBAR MUSTACHE RIGHT OFF HIS FACE!!! Eddie’s top lip begins bleeding profusely.]

Eddie: (Dropping to the mat, clutching his bleeding lip.) Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing!?!?!!

Riley: That was just uncalled for, Abordar!

Mikey: I can’t believe that was real.

Toasty: Me neither!

[Abordar, still pretty fresh, climbs to the top rope at the fastest rate we’ve ever seen him climb. Mind you, in the other instances, he’s exhausted after five minutes. As Eddie slowly gets back to his feet, Abordar grabs him by the hair again, turns him around and...

TORNADO DDT! Abordar grabs Eddie by the head, leaps off the top rope, spins around and slams the Cliched Villain’s skull down into the mat! Abordar with the pin!

One!!

Two!!!

Three!!!!

*Ding, ding, ding!*

TC: The...uh...winner of this match. Abordar!

Jack: Hey, wait a second...

[Jack picks up the ripped off mustache...]

Jack: This has blood capsules in it!

CV: Muaha!

[Eddie groans and sits up. He wipes the fake blood off his lips.]

CV: Once again, the Cliched Villain strikes when no man expects!

All 7 College Guys: EDD-IE SUCKS! EDD-IE SUCKS!

Bruno: INCOMING!

CV: What?

[Abordar was climbing the ropes to celebrate, but turned back to Eddie. He leaps off with more grace than he ever had…]

CV: AW CRAP! (Tries to crawl away but…)

[FROG SPLASH!! Abordar lands all 300 plus pounds on Eddie’s tiny frame, squashing him like a bug.]

All 7 College Guys: THANK YOU!

A: De nada!

[Abordar brushes himself off and disappears back out the front door to continue with the meal left by the Clichéd Villain. Mr. Saturday Morning finally fights free of the deadly drumstick. He rolls into the ring and helps Eddie to his feet.]

MSM: Don’t worry, maybe we’ll find things more useful in NBW.

CV: [Groggily.] Mommy? Mommy, I don’t wanna go to school. I just wanna…

[Eddie passes out as Mr. Saturday Morning drags him upstairs for some much needed medical attention on top of a pool table. And no, I don’t mean in any kind of kinky way…maybe.]

Tournament Round One
Little Blue Super Jew VS M*A*S*H
Referee: Cadwell Warner
Match Writer: Nick Piers

[Once again, Jon Rose climbs into the ring for the introductions of the next match.]

JR: Ladies and gentlemen, the next contest is scheduled for one fall and is a…

Crowd: LOSER LEAVES THE FED MATCH!

JR: Actually, not this time!

Brian: Huh?

JR: Nope, one of the things Eric Eric has been trying to do all night is talk people into signing contract extensions. With that in mind, both men have now signed up to Independent Sprit Wrestling for another six months!

Mikey: Does this mean you’re keeping the El-Bee-Ess-Jay!?

JR: Yep.

Mikey: WOOT!!!

Toasty: Man, sit down before you hurt yourself.

JR: Speaking of which…

["Creeping Death" by Metallica starts up in the bar’s shoddy speakers. Mikey stands up and goes nothing short of ape-shit. The rest of the crowd follows suit as they all leap to their feet to see one of the heroes of Independent Spirit Wrestling.]

JR: From Tel Aviv, Israel!

Steve: Does that make him a foreign object?

JR: No.

Steve: Oh.

JR: Weighing in at two hundred and thirty six pounds!

[Through the kitchen doors pops out none other than the Little Blue Super Jew. He shrugs his shoulders and hops on his feet back and forth. He shakes his head, the blue hair not moving an inch from the pony tail.]

Mikey: Mazel Tov!

[Mikey smashes an empty mug on the floor in celebration of his hero appearing. Suddenly, Mitch Brzezinski runs out from the kitchen with a broom and dust pan and sweeps up the mess, disappearing as quickly as he appears.]

LBSJ: Thanks Mitch!

MB: No problemo!

LSBJ: Is everyone ready for me to knock down a giant?

Mikey: YEAH!

[The crowd actually follows suit and shouts a giant "YEAH!" in unison with Mikey.]

LBSJ: Because that’s exactly what’s gonna happen when that cross dresser meets his match in the…
LITTE BLUE SUPER JEW!!!

Crowd: YEAH!!

[LBSJ slides under the bottom rope and begins doing some squats in his corner, preparing for his match.

"Creeping to Death" is quickly replaced by "MASH" theme song by Manic Street Preachers! And out of the bathrooms comes a large, hairy man dressed in a long blue and yellow sun dress, complete with high heels, a large straw hat and matching blue purse. As he steps out of the bathroom, he has to duck so not to hit his head on the door’s frame above.]

MASH: I’d just like everyone to know that I do this under extreme distress!

Random College Girl: Not to mention extreme dress!

MASH: I demand exit from this federation! I was bamboozled, I tell ya! They told me I would be signing a resignation contract!

[The massive 6’9" man lumbers towards the ring. He lumbers quite well for a guy in high heels, as a matter of fact. He tries to make sure none of the fans dare to put their hands on his dress.]

MASH: Therefore, I’m proving to you all here and now that I am not mentally stable enough to be in this place!

Brian: Lack of sanity qualifies you for this fed!

[MASH swings a leg over the top rope and climbs into the ring. The sun dress rides up and everyone in the bar gets a good shot of his unmentionables!]

Toasty: MY EYES!

Brian: [He falls out of his chair and goes comatose.]

Zach: Oh dear god, the hair!

Crowd: SHAVE YOUR LEGS! SHAVE YOUR LEGS!

MASH: The body is naturally beautiful. The only part of my body I ever shave is my face!

Toasty: That’s because with that size of a nose, it would look like a bird poking its head out of its nest!

LBSJ: [To himself.] Oh, to heck with this!

[Little Blue Super Jew stomps up behind MASH, wraps the big man’s arms across each other…lifts him high in the air and falls back with a belly-to-back crossed suplex!!!!!]

Mikey: WHOA BABY!!! The Exodus Plex!

Toasty: I still can’t see!

[Super Jew immediately goes for the pin! But there’s no ref!]

CW: I’m coming!

[Cadwell bursts through the kitchen doors, dives under the ropes and does a pin count!

One!

Kick out!]

Jack: Brian? Brian, are you okay?

Brian: [In a daze on the floor.] There was….so…much….hair.

[LBSJ doesn’t bother to try picking the big man up. Super Jew rolls onto his back, locks his legs around MASH’s right arm and into an armbar!]

Mikey: Break it off!!!!

Jack: Man, calm down!

Mikey: But…but…it’s the…

Johnny: Besides, you’re not even Jewish.

LBSJ: Well, nobody’s perfect.

[The Super Jew wrenches the arm further. MASH plants his feet down on the canvas and pushes himself into a bridge to try and fight his way out. Unfortunately, that means that his dress is hiking up again and…]

Brian: [Looks up from the floor.] NO! Not again!

[Brian passes out again as the rest of the audience shields their eyes.]

LBSJ: Wussies. My mother has more hair than him.

[Distracted by the audience, Super Jew loosens his grip on MASH’s unbearably hairy arm. It’s just enough for MASH to kippup to his feet!]

CW: [Slaps his hands.] Clean break!

Zach: We know! We saw!

CW: Oh, right. I was just saying.

[MASH doesn’t waste a second and gives a heavy boot to Super Jew’s head, keeping him down on the mat. He picks up LBSJ by his long blue hair, whips him into the ropes…

And delivers a big boot to LBSJ’s face with his high heel!]

CW: Whoa, whoa, whoa! [Looks over at Jon Rose.] Does that count!?

JR: Sadly enough, there are no rules against wrestling in high heels.

[LBSJ crumbles to the mat as MASH goes for the pin.

1!!

2!!

Kick out!]

Crowd: TWO-HOO!

JR: [To himself.] Oh dear god, it’s catching on.

[MASH picks Super Jew up again. He grabs LBSJ by the arm and whips him hard into the corner! Super Jew kicks his legs up in the air, reeling from the impact as the ring’s chains rattle vigorously.]

Mikey: Pull it together, Ess-Jay!

LBSJ: I’m trying, damnit!

[The big cross-dresser stalks over to Super Jew, climbs to the second rope…and….and…

…pulls his dress over Super Jew’s head!]

LBSJ: OH DEAR GOD, THE HORROR!!!! THE HORROR!!!!

[Super Jew fights for all his life to free himself from the hair that could hide Jimmy Hoffa, but MASH continues his assault with a series of punches from the second rope!]

CW: Come on, break it up, madam!

MASH: Hey!

CW: Er…good lady?

[MASH’s eyes suddenly go wide as the back of his dress looks like he just took a giant dump. But indeed, it’s actually a fist coming between his legs, courtesy of the Little Blue Super Jew!!!]

MASH: Holy smigareenos!

Zach: What?

MASH: Someone just hit me in the…

Zach: Ohhhhh. I see.

Mikey: LOW BLUE! Er…blow!

[MASH stumbles down to the canvas, managing to stay on his feet. LBSJ doesn’t waste any time and wiping his face of the…eugh…hairs...grabs MASH by the head and darts up the turnbuckles. MASH’s head in his arms, he bounces off the turnbuckles and comes crashing back down with…]

Zach: Acid Drop!

Mikey: The David and Goliath!!!

[The Little Blue Super Jew goes for the pin!

One!!!

Two!!!

THREE!!!
*Ding, ding, ding!*

JR: The winner of this match!

Mikey: THE LITTLE BLUE SUPER JEW!!!

JR: Um. Yeah.

Mikey: WOOT!!!

[The Super Jew rolls out of the ring, still sweeping hairs off of his own personal peach fuzz. MASH, in the meantime, is dragged out of the ring by Cadwell and helped upstairs by a couple of college guys.]

[BOW! That’s the sound of "Smooth Criminal" by Alien Ant Farm suddenly starting up in the bar! Yes sir, without even waiting for the introductions, Genshun Osakawa steps into the bar from the coat check area. Donning red leather pants and matching leather jacket with dozens of zippers on both, he chats away on his cell phone.]

Bruno’s grandson: Um, are you sure it’s safe for us to be here?

Bruno: Oh, I’m sure he’s harmless.

["Smooth Criminal" continues to play as Genshun looks around the bar, still talking Japanese into the cell phone. Suddenly, he notices the four grand children sitting at the table with the four drunks.]

SCGO: OOH!

[He hangs up on whomever he was talking to, slips the cell phone into an inside pocket in his jacket and rushes over to the drunk’s table in the back.]

SCGO: (Speaking softly.] Hello, my children! I’m so glad you came…

Bruno’s grandson: GET AWAY FROM ME!

Bruno: Get your hands off of him!

[Bruno pushes Genshun away as Smooth Criminal tries to embrace the young grandchild in his arms. He fights with Bruno, but finally, all four (sober tonight) old guys push him away in unison.]

Riley: Freak job!

[Genshun gives a puzzled look as to why he’s being rejected for his innocence. He shrugs and continues to gyrate his way towards the ring. He leaps up onto the apron, turns around, leans as far back as he can against the ropes and sticks a finger high in the air.]

SCGO: HEE-HEE!

Brian: Ah! My ears! [Falls out of his chair for a record third time tonight.]

[With Eric Eric back in the ring doing announcing again, Genshun looks at him with a loving eye. Osakawa climbs into the ring and embraces Eric lovingly. Eric, being the innocent one, returns the hug…until Genshun grabs Eric’s butt.]

EEE: Ah! What the hell…!?!? Michael touched me!?!

[Eric dives out of the ring and hides under the time-keeper’s table.]

Crowd: MICHAEL TOUCHED ME! *Clap, clap! Clap-clap-clap!*

["Smooth Criminal" finally stops playing as Genshun picks up the microphone that Eric dropped in a hurry. He wipes an imaginary tear from his eye.]

SCGO: (soft, high voice, slight Japanese accent.) I just wanted to thank all of my fans for all of their support. I am joy sparkling to know that I am in your prayers in this very trying time for me. May the Deity of The Christians bless of the adolescents of planet fantastic.

[The crowd looks at him with blank faces. Then, they look to their unofficial translator, Jake.]

Jake: (Shrugs.) Ya got me. It was English, I know that much.

[Suddenly, "Tubthumping" by Chumbawama starts up!]

# I get knocked DOWN! But I get up again!

[The crowd starts to sing along as they await the arrival of Genshun’s new opponent, thanks to his lawyer.]

# How ya ever gonna let me down!

[And still awaiting!]

# I get knocked DOWN!

[Suddenly, there’s a loud THUD from behind the kitchen doors.]

TIFDPG: OW! I’m okay!

[The door swings open and The Incredible Falling Down Purple Guy crawls into the bar area. Looking to be built similar to that of Matt Hardy, TIFDPG wears a plain purple Luchador mask that covers his entire face and matching blue leg length tights, and even a pair of purple wrestling boots. He crawls towards the ring. He attempts to climb to his feet again, but slips and falls back down onto his face.]

Jack: Aw geez, where’d they dig this guy up?

Mikey: Funny you should mention that.

Zach: Yeah, he was apparently eaten by a polar bear.

Jack: I don’t wanna know.

[Finally, the Purpled One climbs to his feet and manages to climb into the ring through the ropes.]

EEE: (From the time-keeper’s table.) Ladies and gentlemen, the opponent for Genshun Osakawa….From Parts Unknown, is weighing in at two hundred and thirty pounds…THE INCREDIBLE FALLING DOWN PURPLE GUY!

*Ding, ding, ding!*

Tournament Round One
The Incredible Falling Down Purple Guy VS "Smooth Criminal" Genshun Osakawa
Referee: Cadwell Warner
Match Writer: Nick Piers

[Genshun and Purple Guy circle the ring, not making contact just yet. Cadwell leans back in the corner, waiting to have a match to referee.]

TIFDPG: Don’t hurt me!

SCGO: (Soft voice.) I won’t…unless you’re underage. (Gets his hopes up.) Are you?

TIFDPG: Oh, that’s it.

[The two lock up into a violent collar/elbow hook up. The two cruiserweights struggle to get the respective upper hand, but can’t. The Purple Guy drops down to one knee, but pops back up, trying to get the advantage. Genshun pushes Purple into the corner, still trying to get an advantage…]

CW: Okay, okay! Break it up!

[Genshun pulls away slowly with his hands high in the air…and then brings an open palm slapping down onto Purple’s bared chest! SLAP!]

Crowd: Woo!

[Purple Guy reels back, but then fires a slap back at Genshun!]

Crowd: Woo!

[Genshun returns the favor!]

Crowd: WOO!

[Genshun follows up with a knee to the gut to slow Purple Guy down. And another!]

SCGO: HOO-HOO!!

[Osakawa moonwalks away from Purple Guy. With incredible speed, he spins on the spot and winds up with his back to Purple Guy. He begins to moonwalk back with his signature moonwalk elbow…

But it caught in a full nelson by the Purpled One!]

Zach: A full nelson!? What is this, the eighties?!

[Genshun, screaming like a little girl to fight out of it, can’t break free! Purple Guy whirls around and whips Osakawa down with a…]

Zach: Dragon Legsweep! Holy crap, I haven’t seen that in ages!

[Smooth Criminal does a complete flip on his head, reeling from the sudden attack. He winds up on his stomach and rolls out of the ring to get his composure.]

SCGO: (Runs over to the four old guys table.) My children, please! Help me!

[The four old guys look at their grandsons for a moment, then at Genshun with an evil eye.]

SCGO: Um. Right. WAAAAAAH!!!

[Purple Guy comes up from behind Osakawa, grabs him by the hair and tosses him under the bottom rope back into the ring! The Falling One leaps up onto the apron, and then leaps again up onto the ropes for a springboard….

CRACK!!!]

Crowd: OHHHHH!!!

[The Purple Guy is met with a spinning savate kick to the head with a LOUD snap, courtesy of Genshun! He never even got the chance to leap off the ropes as he plummets back first onto the hard wood floor below. THUD!]

Crowd: HO-LEE SHIT! HO-LEE SHIT!

[Genshun keeps the momentum going by literally running up the turnbuckles and leaps off! Purple Guy slowly gets to his feet in the meantime, only to be met with a moonsault from the top rope to the Purple One outside the ring! The two of them crash onto the floor with a loud THUD.]

Crowd: HO-LEE SHIT! HO-LEE SHIT!

[Osakawa climbs back to his feet, picking up Purple Guy at the same time. He rolls Purple Guy into the ring, sliding in himself afterwards and goes directly for the pin!

One!!!

Two!!!

Kick out!!!]

Crowd: TWO-HOO!

SCGO: Silence!

[Smooth Criminal pops to his feet, sticks a finger high in the air with one hand, and grabs his crotch with the other.]

Riley’s grandson: Ewww!

[Genshun drops an elbowdrop down on Purple Guy…but is shocked when the said arm is grabbed by the Falling One! Purple Guy quickly locks Osakawa’s arm into an armbar! Purple Guy wrenches hard on Smooth Criminals wrist and plants his feet into Genshun’s side and neck.]

Mikey: ARMBAR!

Jack: What?

Zach: It’s an inside joke. He’s referring to the thousand and one moves list.

Jack: Again, don’t wanna know.

[Genshun fights to get to his feet, Purple Guy still holding onto the arm with everything he’s got. Osakawa manages to get to his feet with only one arm to use, but is sent crashing back down to the mat, courtesy of the Purple Guy. Genshun, however, uses the momentum of the impact and flips backwards again, flipping onto his feet, breaking the armbar. He grabs his crotch in what looks more like a scratch and drops a harsh elbowdrop on the Falling Guy. Genshun covers for a pin…

One!!

Two!!!

Kick out!]

Crowd: TWO-HOO!

SCOG: I said silence!

[Purple Guy kippups to his feet! Genshun is still busy arguing with the crowd to notice that the Falling One is up! He’s whirled around suddenly, pushed against the ropes and whipped into the ropes on the opposite side. Purple Guy whirls around with a back spinning savate kick, followed by a DDT that sends Genshun’s head crashing onto the mat! Purple Guy with the pin!

One!!

Two!!!

KICK OUT!]

Zach: This is freaking awesome! I thought this was gonna be a comedy match!

Mikey: Ditto! These guys are like…

Toasty: …actually wrestling?

Zach & Mikey: YEAH!

[Purple Guy dashes towards one of the corners, runs up the turnbuckles…and is crotched at the top! Genshun leaps to his feet at the same time and pushes him down onto the top turnbuckle!]

Toasty: Oooh! So much for the creation of little purples!

[The crowd bursts into laughter, but Genshun ignores it as he climbs to the second rope. At the same time, TIFDPG slowly turns around and winds up facing Osakawa. Smooth Criminal leaps up, wraps his legs around Purple’s head…and stays in that position?!]

Johnny: …the hell’s he doing!?

Zach: Ya got me. I’ve never seen this spot before.

[Cadwell Warner, trying to see past Genshun, begins counting for them both being in the corner.]

CW: One! Two!

[Meanwhile, Osakawa pulls something shiny out of the back of his leather pants…a studded white glove?! With Purple still fighting to free his head from Genshun’s legs, Smooth Criminal slips on the glove, blocking it from Cadwell’s view…]

CW: Three! Four!!

[Genshun suddenly fires a massive right hand in Purple Guy’s face, which seems to have knocked him completely out! Osakawa follows this up with a hurricanrana that sends Purple Guy falling to the mat.]

Mikey: He had a loaded glove!!!

Zach: That bastard!

[Smooth Criminal gets back to his feet, quickly climbs up to the top rope. He shuffles his shoulders back and forth in a dance similar to the Thriller video…and leaps off…

…delivering a huge elbow drop to the bare chest of the Incredible Falling Down Purple Guy! Genshun with the pin!!!

One!!!

Two!!!

THREE!!!

*Ding, ding, ding!*

"Smooth Criminal" begins to play again in the shoddy bar speakers. Genshun drops to his knees and begins openly weeping in the middle of the ring. While celebrating, Cadwell rolls Purple Guy out of the ring, who stumbles to his feet and slowly makes his way back to the bathroom.

Genshun Osakawa, in the meantime, climbs out of the ring, still weeping. He makes his way over to the old men’s table again.]

SCGO: Can I have a hug in celebration.

[The four old guys look at him with the look of fiery "go to hell" death. Undefeated but dejected, Smooth Criminal hangs his head low and walks back into the men’s bathroom.]

Debut!
Wayne Fenris

[But in the streets, in the parking lot of the somewhat prestigious (?) Castillo’s Bar & Grill, a newcomer to the wrestling federation makes his arrival. Ridding nothing less then the most expensive looking of cars, this well-traveled confident man comes ready to take over the ISW, nay; take over THE WORLD!.]

Mysterious man: Uh-huh uh-huh. Here’s a return of the King you won’t find in any of your local cinema…

[It’s a pink Cadillac, slowly making its way, gliding across the asphalt streets. We close up and pan around the felt doggy bones hung across the rear view mirror in lieu of dice, chew toys littered all over the passenger seat until we spot the driver. Long fang-sized teeth greet the cameraman, teeth surrounded by a face of fur, face stuck between two canine-like ears and at the center of it all, a big ol’ doggy nose. The car stops. The man steps out. Graciously pudgy, this wolf-faced man walks around with a distinctive strut that bars the mark of a Memphis showman. He wears a white rhinestone covered vest and his neck is hidden by a long blue scarf. His hands are paws, his feet are wolf’s feet but other then that he’s finally clothed in the best that the fifties era had to offer.]

Mysterious Man: Take good care of the car Bubba, and maybe I’ll throw you a bone afterwards. A-WHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

[That last bit was supposed to be a wolf’s howl, by the way. Actually, that whole line would’ve made a lot more sense if the mysterious man were speaking to a valet or whatever, but there ain’t no valets in the ISW so he was speaking to a bum, so when the bum took the keys, he took the car. That bummed our man out pretty much, because it means he’s pretty much stuck here in the ISW for the rest of his career. Pretty sad, huh? Luckily, he managed to get the only piece of equipment he’ll ever need so as to make it as a professional wrestler: his precious "hare-loom guee-tar". So since the poor shmuck is stuck here, let’s give him a microphone, okay?]

Mysterious Man: So here I am… in the Ghetto… As the snow flies on a cold and gray Chicago mornin’, a poor little baby child is born… in the Ghetto.

Kid: WE’RE IN CANADA!

Mysterious Man: Shut up son, I’m trying to do a little thing that we call an entrance here in this flea-ridden mangy ol’ country o’yours. I just rode in my pink Cadillac from the Heartbreak Hotel in Blueberry Hill so as to throw you canucks a bone, but you been treatin’ me as if I was nuthin’ but a hound dog. King Creole ain’t got nothing on King Canine over here, and I intend to lace up my blue suede shoes and stick ‘em where the full moon doesn’t shine to anyone who disagrees. Oooooh mamma, the King has indeed returned and he’s about to get the respect and the money that he always deserved, cuz if good time Charlie has the blues, it’s because you lousy Canucks we’re only feedin’ him the table scraps from the rasslin’ table, know what I mean? Memphis baby, Memphis! I’m gonna put the shake, rattle and roll-over and play dead to the amateur pups of the ISW so as to show you all how a true legend of the ring behaves and I ain’t howlin’ at the moon either! I’m the greatest Intercontinental champion of all time and it doesn’t matter if I never wrestled in the WWE in the first place; so even though I may be in the doghouse of rasslin’ promotions you know I’ll come up top dog time after time! Woo-aaaah momma don’t all come for the alpha male all at once now, I’ve got enough tough love for every one and remember: you can’t call me a cheatin’ heart if the ref doesn’t see it.

[There is an uncomfortable pause for a few seconds as the people just don’t know what to make of the wolf-headed wrestler in Elvis clothing… until said wolf-headed wrestler in Elvis clothing remembers.]

Mysterious Man: Pardon me, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m the Honky Tonk Werewolf, but you know me better under my real name… Wayne Fenris.

All: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Everyone else: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Fat Comic book guy: Worst. Pun. Ever.

Hans Moleman: I was saying Boo-urns.

Wayne Fenris: Take you very much; you’ve been a wonderful audience.

[Wayne Fenris continues to shake, rattle and howl at the moon as he makes his way back out the bar.]

Mikey: Well, that was…

Zach: …odd.

Johnny: That guy is my new hero.

Mikey: Wait, don’t tell me you like Elvis?

Johnny: Hell yeah!

Zach: Oh god….

Tournament Round One
Sherrick VS Thorin Stonehand
Referee: Cadwell Warner
Match Writer: Joseph Thompson

Crowd: EYE-ESS-DUBYA!!

[Jon Rose steps into the ring to begin introductions for our final match of the night. He is clearly enjoying himself.]

JR: Is everybody ready for more wrestling?

Crowd: YEAH!

JR: Does everybody like seeing me mess with Sherrick's head?

Crowd: HECK, YEAH!

JR: Did everybody see "Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King"?

Crowd: HECK, YEAH!

JR: In your own personal Barcalounger? Thanks again, Steve. And, oh, Brzezinski, that DeLorean won't start.

["Amazing Grace" as played by a Scottish bagpipe choir plays.]

JR: Introducing first, from Middle Earth by way of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania…

Crowd: SAME DIFFERENCE!

JR: That may be, I know neither place has a decent flush toilet and you don't want to go walking after dark there. Anyway, he weighed in tonight at one-hundred and five pounds of pure pent-up aggression, he is the last dwarven warrior of Middle Earth, here is THORIN STONEHAND!

[Stonehand walks out, looking very dwarven with his long red beard, wearing nothing but a kilt.]

Crowd: HE'S IN A SKIRT!

[Stonehand only scowls at them as "Eminence Front" by the Who begins to play.]

Crowd: SHER-RICK! SHER-RICK! [In the same cadence as the "Darryl" chants Mets fans chanted at Darryl Strawberry while he was being a coked-up pile of stink on the field.]

JR: And the next guy I'm getting out my hair for good, from Hartford, Connecticut, and weighing in at, oh, who cares, it's not like he's going to be stepping on this promoter's scale again anyhow, and he is SHERRICK!

[Sherrick runs to the ring really quickly and enters under the bottom rope. It is only then that the crowd notes that he is not wearing his original attire. He's wearing a purple Zorro mask, a red sequined cape, and tights that couldn't be taken in enough for them, so he had to wear a belt. He basically looks like a kid in the clothing normally worn by the enormous Captain Wonder.]

Crowd: HA-HA!

JR: And your referee for tonight, the incomparable Cadwell Warner. And because I'm in such a good mood, I say it's time for a free round of beverages and wings for the house!

Sherrick: Quit celebrating, I ain't gone yet! You think you can run off me, Sherrick, with... a dwarf? You go and drag some nincompoop away from his job as a seeing-eye little person and this is supposed to cause my defeat? Not gonna happen.

[The bell rings, and the action begins, with a tie-up, and Thorin Stonehand quickly gains the upper hand with an eye-gouge, and then tackles Sherrick with a spear.]

JR: This is so beautiful!

[Sherrick shakes off the effects of the spear, and begins a released German suplex on Stonehand.]

CW: BREAK!

[Sherrick drops Stonehand, knowing that they are looking for any possible reason to pull a quick disqualification on him.]

Sherrick: What the? What about your high superhero ideals? You're just as corrupt as that ninny Rose!

CW: Superhero? Where? I'm just a humble referee, and dwarf tossing is against the law in the Dominion of Canada, and in fact, might even be a hate crime. You can't throw someone over your head just because they're smaller than you, Sherrick.

Sherrick: Well, then, I just won't release it next time.

[While Sherrick was jawing with Cadwell, Thorin Stonehand was busy climbing the top rope, and he lands a perfect flying bulldog on Sherrick! He begins punching Sherrick in the face.]

Crowd: DWARVES RULE!

[Sherrick gets up slowly, and grabs Stonehand's legs and prepares for a power bomb. But it gets reversed into a hurricanrana by Stonehand! This might be the best exhibition of wrestling that ISW has ever seen!]

JR: Even I didn't want him to have to see that. You know a real Scot doesn't wear anything under there.
Johnny: Of course not, what would be the point. Gotta let them air-dry.

[Sherrick is clearly more than a little dazed and repulsed. He gets up and executes a flying tackle of his own on the Dwarven warrior, and then just begins kicking Stonehand in the face!

Random College Guy #3: OW! That was a tooth!

Random College Girl #2: Yeah, but it's that Hobbit guy's tooth; it could be worth some money or something.

[Stonehand can't seem to stop the all-out brawling assault of Sherrick as a perfect superkick from Sherrick sends him to the ropes.]

JR: This Dom Perignon really does taste like Molson.

[Stonehand attempts some offense with a punch, but Sherrick counters with an armbar and quickly takes Stonehand down with a leg sweep. Then, he sits on the shoulders of Stonehand, pulls back his arms, and executes The Hold with No Name. Stonehand is clearly feeling the pressure on every part of his body
here.]

JR: What was I thinking? A dwarf? I could've had a nice bearded lady to humiliate Sherrick. Or Gator Boy.

[The Incredible Falling Down Purple Guy comes up to the boss and offers him some wings.]

JR: It's not time for grease yet, Mr. Guy.

[TIFPDG trips and falls, dropping a plate of sauce-laden wings right on Jon Rose's lap.]

JR: OW! For frig’s sake! Do you know how hard it is to get this stuff out of anything? Do you?

[TIFPDG just shakes his head. Meanwhile, Stonehand appears to be tapping.]

Stonehand: I gi'e! I gi'e! [Shakes head fiercely]

CW: I think I know what he meant…BELL!

[The bell rings and the crowd is not happy. They boo Sherrick as he calmly walks out of the ring. Now with a win under his belt, he doesn’t seem to notice that he’s still wearing the ridiculous Captain Wonder outfit.]

Jon Rose: NO! I can't believe it! Your winner, at eight minutes and twelve seconds… [Begins to whisper.] Sherrick. And going home, back to the Salvation Army Dwarf Shelter in Philadelphia, Thorin Stonehand.

Crowd: YOU'RE MEAN TO DWARVES! YOU'RE MEAN TO DWARVES!

JR: Am I?! Then I’ll tell ya what! Just because he gave me false hopes of defeating Sherrick…THORIN STONEHAND STAYS!

Crowd: Woo!

[Suddenly, the Incredible Falling Down Purple Guy, huge pile of wings on a tray in his hand, dashes from the upstairs area.]

Bruno: INCOMING!

[CRASH! TIFDPG meets head first with Sherrick, who was not all the way back into the bathroom. The two wrestlers clonk heads harder than Klingon greetings. The dozens of wings come raining on top of the two of them. Sherrick tries to find his footing among the grease, but fails and flips onto his back. TIFDPG, amazingly, manages to stay on his feet.]

Sherrick: Aw geez! Grease! It burns!

TIFDPG: Ow, ow, ow!

Jon Rose: Hmmm.

[The crowd laughs at the sight of Sherrick Wonder and The Incredible Falling Down Purple Guy covered in good old fashioned Castillo grease.]

Sherrick: You goddamn FREAK! Why does Rose have to keep bringing you assholes in here!? I oughta burn every single mask in the fed!

[Jon Rose climbs into the ring, microphone in hand.]

JR: Ladies and gentlemen, I’d just like to make this announcement before we head out. I’d like you all to meet Sherrick’s brand new manager…

THE INCREDIBLE FALLING DOWN PURPLE GUY!!!

[The whole bar explodes in cheers and applause!]

Sherrick: What!? NO! Fuck you, Rose!

JR: All’s fair in love and war, Sherrick. You’re not only stuck in that outfit…

Toasty: Literally, thanks to that grease!

JR: …but you’re also stuck with Tee-Aye-Ef-Dee-Pee-Gee! Take a bow, Guy!

[TIFPG raises his arms in the air to take in the small smattering of cheers. Unfortunately, it’s at this point that he loses his balance among the grease…]

Sherrick: AW CRAP!

[And falls right on top of the person he’s managing.]

[End of Show!]


©2004 BOB Wrestling. If not completely confused, spin around three times and click your knuckles together.

Brawlers On a Budget is an online fantasy parody wrestling sports entertainment federation (or e-fed) designed to be somewhat funny.

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