Saturday Afternoon's Curtain Jerker opens with Texas Kid sitting in a chair, with his head down. Sphere is walking in circles around the chair. He trips, and manages to yell "Gah, I tripped!", before hitting the ground. He gets up, dusts himself off, and continues walking around the chair. He stops in front of TK.
"I leave you in charge for ONE day. ONE DAY. Just one day, and you signed this match and that match, and for God's sakes, you agreed to let the Jobber of the Year Tournament take place for the second year in a row! Didn't you know how badly I got screwed in the semifinals last year? Huh? No! Of course you don't, or otherwise you wouldn't have pissed me off by letting Heftel bring it back! You know, just for that, I'm announcing a match between YOU and ME, at the pay-per-view. We'll meet at Royal Battle, LIVE on January 18th!"
TK pokes his head up.
"Wait, I missed that...is the pay-per-view pre-taped?"
"Shut up! Also, you will stay right here, in this very office, for the entire show today. As for the pay-per-view, I'm announcing another match...a 30-man over-the-top-rope battle royal. This battle royal will start out with two men, and every two minutes, another man will enter the ring, and at the end, only ONE MAN will be left standing triumphant. Because I'm not in this battle royal, that means it's anyone's game. Furthermore, the winner of said battle royal will meet ME at the WrestleActionZone pay-per-view in April, in a match to determine the first Sphere Heavyweight Champion!"
"Whoa, April? We're allowed to plan stuff that far ahead of time?"
"What did I tell you about shutting up?"
"Um...just one more question...if I beat you at Royal Battle, does that mean I face the winner of the battle royal at WrestleActionZone?"
LIVE from The Bingo Hall in Asbury Park, NJ
December 21st, 2002
Janitor Nine vs. Kamikazie Ken
"So Fresh, So Clean" by Outkast began to play, drawing out Janitor Nine. Janitor Nine walked to the ring with determination, as he knew that only through jobbing would he win the Jobber of the Year Tournament, and he was determined to NOT win this match.
As he walked to the ring, he noticed something a tad peculiar. As a matter of fact, on a scale between 1 and 10 on the peculiar scale, this would be a "11" on that scale.
He saw a table.
This wasn't the peculiar part.
A table which was wrapped in barbed wire, with fluorescent bulbs that was encased in thumbtacks, nails, rusty screws, and C4 explosives.
This wasn't the peculiar part.
The peculiar part was what was on top of the mess.
It was a note.
Janitor Nine plucked it off of the table and read it to himself.
"Janitor Nine," he said, before he smiled, "Hey, that's me! :-D"
He continued, "You have won a free massage! :-D Get on the table and a masseuse will be right with you! :-)"
Janitor Nine thought about it, and sure, common sense might have noted that laying on a table covered in sharp objects would not be a good idea, but come on. This is Janitor Nine we're talking about. He has no common sense to begin with.
"Oh, goodie! :-)"
He briefly thought about taking his clothes off, but he just simply shrugged, and got on top of the rather uncomfortable table.
As Janitor Nine awaited his free massage, from up in the rafters, a figure emerged. Well, he would have emerged if the fWEo has a spotlight, or if they knew he was up there. But I swear he's there. Dressed like a luchadore in blue, a target on his mask. It could only be one man.
For today, he would not need entrance music. Just some cartoony falling sound effectage. Ken was about to fly.
*Insert cartoony falling sound effectage*
Janitor Nine, struggling to get comfortable on the table, flipped over onto his back. A puzzled look came across his face and he wondered why the man in blue was up there.
Maybe he was wearing zoom contact lenses? He felt his face. Nope. His regular glasses. Man, that shape was getting awfully…
Yes, for some reason, a duck was on the table as well.
The smoke? It didn't clear. It was hard to see. The dust? It was just floating through the air, failing to live up to its every cliché. Besides the referee, a new figure appeared in the smoky dust. It was Janitor Seven. And he appeared quite concerned.
"The ring has burst into flames…get out of the way, please," Seven said to the referee. "Oh my, this is terrible, oh, my, get out of the way please!" he screamed at the referee a second time.
"I'm over here!" the referee said from across the ring.
"Oh, the humanity, do you know how long it's going to take to clean up this mess?! Oh wait…"
And in the smoke and dust and among the debris of inanimate objects and broken bodies, Janitor Seven saw something. Something he had been waiting, well, who knows how long for.
Sitting there on a platter was a roast duck dinner.
"How can this be?" Janitor Seven asked.
The referee stepped forward. "You know what they say…every time a pair of wrestlers fuck up, a Janitor will eat a roast duck."
"Wow. I really HAVE had a wonderful life."
"No," the referee said. "Not really."
Janitor Seven nodded. "Well, at least I have a roast duck.
He took the platter and ran away.
Once Janitor Seven left, the referee noticed that Kamikazie Ken was on Janitor Nine. Hmm. Wonder why he didn't notice that til now. Anyway, he made the cover. One. Two. Three.
Well, hey! That was quite the short match.
Winner: Kamikazie Ken by pinfall; Janitor Nine advances
The Prom, Part One
There isn't much to say about the poor fellow, except that he was a confused man in a confused world. Well, his confused world is about to jump into a realm of downright screwyness.
"Oh, Angel!" someone yelled from a distance, waving her arm in the direction of Adam Nowell. Nowell groaned.
She was back.
Sarah, "the Jobber Slayer".
"Angel. Oh man, I had this wigguns going on that you'd be here! I mean, now that you're here, I'd like very much so to be somewhere. You know? But it can't be normal, can it? Why can't it just be normal? Why must you be a jobber?"
Nowell's eyes went wide on the last word of that statement, "Er, Sarah... listen, Sarah... I'm not a jobber, okay?"
However, Sarah seemed to ignore Adam's pleas to the contrary and seemed to be having a conversation with someone who isn't Nowell, "Oh, right, I'm sorry, you're not evil anymore. You're a jobber with a puppy."
"I don't even have a puppy!" Nowell protested.
Again, with the not-really-Nowell conversation from Sarah, "I want somebody who can take me into the light and make love to me. But I know if we do your puppy will run away again and you'll be all evil and our love... it's just so forbidden!"
Nowell couldn't believe he was even having this conversation, "Wait, wait, wait... hold on... did you even hear a single word I said?"
Sarah looked at him with the best puppy dog eyes she could muster, "Why won't you take me to the prom?"
Adam's eyes opened wide with horror when those eight words escaped the lips of the person who thinks she's in love with him.
"The... the WHAT?! Prom?! Sarah, I just turned twenty-eight! I think I'm just a little too old to take you to any prom."
"Man, it's always about you, isn't it, Angel? Oh, poor me, I'm 28. But what about me? What about Sarah? What about the fact that Sarah wants to go to the prom and just be a normal girl in a pretty dress and high heel shoes. I have a nice dress!"
Sarah stormed away, leaving a stunned Adam Nowell in her wake, pointing his finger at her, trying desperately to formulate a response.
"I, uh... dammit. I take too long to come up with clever retorts."
Sarah stormed back in front of Nowell.
"Fine, I'll just go by myself."
Sarah stormed away, again.
"Hey, what? Huh?" said Nowell, who was now utterly confused to the point of insanity at this point. Why couldn't ANYONE be normal in this place? As he contemplated this, Sarah's Commentator, Styles, ran into the scene. He's wearing a suit and tie.
"OH MY GOD!" he shouted right into Nowell's ear, "Where is Sarah!? There is going to be EXTREME trouble at the Prom tonight!"
Nowell looked like he was about to "vamp out" at this moment.
"MUST you yell in my frigging ear?!" he snapped at Styles. However, Styles didn't seem to be bothered by it.
"But Angel, you'll never believe what is going to happen at the prom tonight! It's gonna be HARDCORE! Not like that circus up in Stamford!" Styles yelled. Upon the very MENTION of the world "hardcore" did Ken War also run in on the segment.
He quickly ran off before he was thusly killed by the Powers That Be.
"Angel. It's the END OF THE WORLD!" Styles screamed. Then, it came. Once in a while, Nowell gets a clever retort in.
"And I bet you feel fine."
Of course, it was THUSLY ignored two seconds later as Styles continued to scream, "Some crazed person has summoned a pack of devil dogs to devour EVERYONE who attends the PROM! OH MY GOD!"
He started to run off to get Sarah, but he screamed out behind him toward Angel, "Bring a tuxedo if you decide to come fight the devil dogs!!"
Nowell thought about it, and sighed, "Why? Why must I be surrounded by all of these idiots!"
No Dance Contests Allowed
"Lemon marang? What a pussy!", Sphere said to Texas Kid, pointing a finger and laughing, before realizing the cameraman had waddled into his office. Sphere couldn't think of a way to pretend that he'd been screaming at TK the whole time, and he ended up being saved by a bottle of Surge, which rolled into his office on a cart, with some papers. "Ah, there they are." Sphere grabbed the papers and flipped through him. He threw the papers down on his desk and sighed heavily.
"Well, way to go. That match you signed last week...Warrior and Duggan against Renegade and Virgil? I HAVE to let it happen, because it was agreed to on the air."
Just then, Reginald VelJohnson and Lawrence Taylor walked into Sphere's office.
"Hey Prez, me and LT agreed to have a friendly dance contest on today's show. Ain't that right, LT?" VelJohnson asked his tag partner.
"Ooh, yeah! What a BODY good man ah am!", LT responded.
"Haha, so, we can go out there and do this, right?", VelJohnson asked Sphere.
"But...hmm...you know, I didn't see you two on the show two weeks ago. Where were you?", Sphere asked both men.
"Ooh, BUSTED!", shouted TK.
"Now, tell me. Where were you two during the last show?", Sphere once again asked VelJohnson and LT.
"Um...um...", LT stammered, trying to come up with an excuse.
"We got caught up in a breakdance contest with the inner-city youths!", VelJohnson said.
"Well...I have no idea what an "inner-city youth" is, but I still don't believe you. I'm signing a tag match for later on...it'll be the main event, actually. On one side, will be you two men. The other side? Senor Funpants and Jackhammer. See, I'm punishing them for not showing up last week by making them team together, and I'm punishing you two for not showing up last week by putting you in the main event, which means more pressure."
"Damn. Wish ah had a football to spike right about now.", LT said as he and VelJohnson left the office with their heads hanging low.
Underweartaker (w/Sister Payne) vs. Bob Smith
"Papa Don't Preach" (the "Kelly Osbourne" version) signaled the arrival of the Underweartaker, being led to the ring by Sister Payne, who looked depressed as usual. In the ring, Bob Smith tried to remember which arm to use for the "collar" part of a collar-and-elbow tieup, but accidentally looked the Underweartaker right in the eyes. Smith started to cry.
Winner: Underweartaker by causing his opponent to cry
Beef stared at Janitor Eleven.
Janitor Seven stared at El Janito.
Janitor Eleven stared at Beef.
El Janito stared at Janitor Seven.
Janitor Nine stared at Steve.
Steve seemed to be at a loss on if he should be staring at Janitor Seven or Janitor Eleven, but never once thought about staring at Janitor Nine.
"So," Janitor Seven said, "Um. Yeah. We've got a match. A big one, I do believe."
"Yup." Beef responded.
The staring continued.
"So, want to come over to our locker room later and play Scrabble?" Janitor Seven asked.
"Ahh, I don't know... I think we are definitely supposed to be feuding." Beef said.
"Aww. :-(" Nine said, disappointed, even though none of them seemed to have heard him.
"What?! You're too meanieheadingly good to play a nice, friendly, meanieheaded game of Scrabble!?" Eleven snapped.
"It's just that we don't bloody know any words beyond those of the three letter variety, you wankstains." El Janito said.
"Alright, that's it! We're gonna tango! And it'll have to be pulled apart! Yeah!" Seven yelled.
"Okay, but I'm bloody leading."
And that's exactly what happened.
Beef and Eleven turned to watch this in surprise.
Steve could care less, he just simply boomed his favorite word: "DEATH."
Beef and Eleven both shrugged. Then they obliged Steve by tackling one another to the ground and resuming the catfight that had been started at the last Curtain Jerker.
They were all thusly pulled apart by the invisible security.
Sphere had even more guests in his office.
Sphere addressed BQ first.
BQ shrugged. "Eh eh eh."
"Ah, I see. You know...Black Quicksilver doesn't have a fWEo contract...but Team Lightning does. Or should I say..." Sphere holds up a piece of paper and slowly rips it in half. "Did." Now, if you want a contract, you're going to have to fight for it. You'll fight for it in a handicap match later on, and I'm not even telling you who your opponents are! What do you think about that?"
"I think it'll be pretty easy. I ran into these two guys in the hallway about five minutes ago, they said they look forward to facing me today. I'm a cult favorite."
BQ leaves, and Sphere turns to Heftel.
"YOU. Just WHAT do you think you were doing appearing on that other fW-promotion's Sunday show two weeks ago?"
"Getting my ass kicked?"
"Well...yes, I suppose that's a good answer. Speaking of which..."
Sphere turns to Texas Kid, who's still in the chair next to his desk.
"What were YOU doing on that same show? In the SAME match?"
"Huh? I wasn't there!"
"Uh-huh. See, I can't punish Heftel because he's a champion, and when you own a wrestling company, your highest-ranking champion can get away with anything he wants. Well, most of the time. Anyway, because of what you pulled, I'm terminating one of your contracts. You can no longer wrestle as "Scott Hart" in fWEo. Just "Texas Kid". Is that clear?"
"Uh...yeah. I guess."
"Good. Now, Heftel? Go get ready for that sorry-ass tournament match of yours. I pray to God that you win the match."
"You're despicable.", Heftel says to Sphere before he turns and leaves. Sphere then turns to Ken War.
"Alright, I didn't call you in here, but...you're here. What do you want?"
"lsten, spere, im tyred ov saring mi rum wit abyouza!!11 hi kips steelen mi papi rouch ablums!11 fyre heeem!!1111 fyre abyouza!!11"
Sphere contemplates this statement. Finally, someone has the same opinion of Abusah that he does. He comes to a conclusion.
"Look here, Mr. War. I'll fire Abusah, but only if you kill yourself RIGHT NOW."
"Hey! That's one of the spurs from my boot! Hence the reason it's ON my boot!", TK shouts as Ken War rips one of the spurs off of his boot, and then promptly pierces his own skull with it. He drops dead right in the middle of Sphere's office, causing Sphere to smile, put his hands behind his head, and his feet up on the desk.
"Ah, at last. I'm rid of the two *legally* retarted wrestlers on my roster."
Mike Heftel (c) vs. Kay Fabe
Saturday Afternoon's Curtain Jerker continues on with the second semifinal match in the Jobber of the Year tournament, as "Down With The Ship (Travis Beaven Remix)" plays, bringing out the Wominternopean Jobberweight Champion...Mike Heftel. He walks to the ring in a calm manner, preparing himself for the beating that he's about to receive from a woman who is far tougher than he is. Although...any woman being tougher than Heftel is a given, but *this* woman? Hoo-boy.
Over the PA, Kay Fabe's voice is heard: "IF YA SMELLLLLALALALALALALA. What the LESBIAN. Is….Cooking! "Queer" by Garbage begins to play, bringing out the sexiest Wiccan lesbian in parody sports entertainment today, Kay Fabe. But today, Kay was dressed a little differently than usual. She was in a sexy Santa suit, minus most of the suit. A red Santa hat sat atop her red-hair, a pair of red shorts, a low cut red top and black boots with that fuzzy white stuff around the top. And the only thing jiggling on her like a bowl full of jelly sure as hell wasn't her belly. It was more than likely those implants in her chest.
And the other thing that should be noted? She was carrying a big sack over her shoulder. Apparently she was in the 'giving' mood tonight, which was odd, considering she was about to wrestle a man.
"Holy crap, look at the size of that sack!", Heftel shouted to no one in particular as Kay Fabe got closer to the ring.
Kay Fabe got into the ring and looked up and down at Heftel before putting the bundle down on the mat, keeping one hand on her sack. She pulled out a long list and then looked for Heftel's name.
"Have you been a good little boy this year?" Kay Fabe asked him.
Heftel looked down at the mat and clasped his hands together behind his back, while kicking a foot forward. "Um, well...", Heftel managed to get out before Kay Fabe interrupted him.
"Kay Fabe DOESN'T CARE if you've been a good boy this year."
"Alright, alright, I'll ask again. Have you been a good little boy this year?"
"Well...I may or may not have...rippedthetagoffmymattress."
"Well, what we do in the throes of passion is nobody's business.", came the response from Kay Fabe.
Heftel's eyes grew wide, and he pointed a finger at Kay Fabe as he started to shout, in an attempt to proclaim his innocence. "Oh, COME ON! It's no more illegal than the time Stump tried to shove a firecracker up Jackhammer's ass, and then he blamed it on BQ, who blamed it on me, and then I blamed it on Sphere, and then Jackhammer's all "I don't believe any of you", and then he went all wop pow zap on Sphere anyway!"
"Ah, so you LIKE, to shove things in other men's asses then? Well, then Santa Fabe may have something EXTRA special for you." She dug in deep into her sack and whipped out a gun.
A BB gun.
"Yep, this one has your name written all over it. Well, either you or Ken War…"
Heftel turned his head sideways and began to look at the gun. "Hmm....M-I-K-E H-E-F-T-E-L. Yeah, it's definitely got Ken War's name on it. Sucks for him."
"But that's not it, nononononononononono no. There is something else Santa Fabe feels in her sack. It's something that symbolizes Mike Heftel. Something fitting for you. Because It's A Very Mike Heftel Christmas. Santa Fabe looked short and soft…just like Kay Fabe is sure you look when you're nude…"
"Actually, I look pretty disgusted when I'm nude."
Kay Fabe narrowed her eyes and licked her lips. Her usual thing when she is completely and utterly baffled by someone. She cocked her head left, then right, then left, then right. The stupidness that was Heftel just wasn't going away. Then she thought she understood.
"Well then. This is a very 'special' tree, for a very 'special' jabroney."
Kay pulled out a 2-foot tall Christmas tree. Most of the needles (the ones that hadn't fallen off as she yanked it out of the bag) were all brown. The branches were sagging, what few there were. And it was decorated with burnt out lights and broken ornaments.
"Merry Christmas, Mike Heftel," Kay Fabe said in her sexiest voice.
"Is that...is that a wax statue of ME?", asked an excited Heftel.
Kay Fabe stared blankly at Heftel and contemplated grabbing the gun and sticking it in a naughty place. That would be so much more fun than doing this silly segment with Heftel.
Heftel was confused. "Wait...your naughty place or my naughty place?"
Kay Fabe did a massive double take. "You're only supposed to speak when it says Heftel followed by a colon! Stop shooting or Kay Fabe will make sure you're sent to TNA and you'll have to work with Roddy Piper for eternity!"
"Can I have my own boat?"
Kay Fabe suddenly grabbed her head and collapsed to the mat. "This isn't happening. This isn't happening." Then it happened. It being a thought. "This is the greatest night in the history of our sport!" That should solve everything.
Kay Fabe stared at Heftel. She wasn't done. "What a main event we've got coming up!"
"Look, lady...I don't know where you think you are, but the rest of the nWo turned on me three months ago, and then we split up. Damn me and my fascination with the color fuchsia."
"Well, Kay Fabe was going to read your a special Christmas poem, but since that gun is looking mighty good to Kay Fabe, we're gonna move this thing along and get to your third and FINAL gift."
"Oh boy! I FINALLY get to celebrate Chanukah!"
"The last thing I have in my bag is something very sweet. It's packed with flavor."
"Ooh, is it Gogurt?"
"No. It's something that's going to leave a bad taste in your mouth for some time to.....come," she said, spitting unintentionally as she really emphasized the ca-sound. She stepped ever closer to Heftel so they were mere inches apart....well, her breasts made up most of the distance but still....
"Bad taste, ay? I'm gonna say...cough syrup. It's cough syrup, isn't it? Yeah. It's gotta be."
Kay looked at Heftel. She tossed the sack aside and grabbed him as if for a uranage. "Prepare to taste Kay's Bottom!"
"Holy crap! I get it! You want me to lick your ass!"
But Kay lifted up Heftel and planted him onto the mat with Kay's Bottom. Yes, the cheap rip-off of The Rock's finisher, but what do you want from Kay? Messing around with magic got her body infested with the spirit of an allegedly deceased parody sports entertainer. But Kay wasn't done with Heftel just yet.
"Hey, that one light up there isn't working. Someone should fix it.", Heftel thought to himself. Or maybe that was the only light that WAS working. He couldn't really comprehend it at the moment.
Kay looked around at invisible crowd. It was time for the Sexiest Move in Parody Sports Entertainment Today. The Lesbian's Tongue!
As Heftel waited for Kay to execute her finisher, he started to sing the new Avril Lavigne song. "It's a damn cold night...try to figure out this life...won't you...take me by the hand, take me somewhere new..."
Kay bounced off two sides of the ring and fell to the mat, opened up Heftel's mouth and jammed her tongue into his mouth, putting a finger on his chest at the same time for the pin attempt. Playing it smart, Heftel didn't bother to kick out, and three seconds later, he had retained the Wominternopean Jobberweight Title *and* advanced to the finals of the Jobber of the Year Tournament, where he will meet Janitor Nine.
Kay reached into her big sack and pulled out one last item. But this was one was for herself. "What a pretty prom dress. I hope me and Sarah are sharing a lockerroom."
Kay Fabe left the ring, and a few minutes later, Heftel came to.
"Uh, huh huh...did I just score?"
Winner: Kay Fabe by pinfall; Mike Heftel retains and advances
Three behemoths were standing before Sphere.
Bam Bam Bigelow.
"Ah, I hope you gentlemen enjoyed your vacation two weeks ago."
"Naked ladies, bay-ba, yeah!", Mongo shouted.
"GRR-OWL!", agreed Greene.
"Yo Spheea, Bam Bam gots ta know, why you not book him for tonight? Dis his hometown!", Bigelow asked Sphere.
"Oh, I didn't book you because I was told you three have an earth-shattering announcement to make. So, I'll make the announcement for you. You three want to form the nWo Elite. Am I correct in saying that you've never been a member of the nWo, Bigelow?"
"Yeah, dat's right."
"Just checking. Congratulations, I hope your stable runs amok over everybody except me."
1-2-3 Kid barged into Sphere's office, carrying Stump.
"Oh, I see Stump finally picked you up from kindergarten. What took you so long."
"I should've known. Anyway, I called you in here, because, in two weeks time, on the next Saturday Afternoon's Curtain Jerker, you and Stump will team up and get your insides ripped out by these two men, Mongo and Kevin Greene. And if Bigelow wants to jump in and get a piece, that's fine by me. I can't stand either of you, and I hope both of you are rotting in Hell with Ken War after the match. During your time in Hell, you will wait approximately eighty-six years, before I, myself, kick the bucket and join you there, where I will murder Satan and rule Hell myself. That means I would rule YOU."
"Okay.", Kid says, before leaving with Stump.
"Well, gentlemen, thank you for coming. Please, as you leave, feel free to take a shot at this masked freak here.", Sphere tells the nWo Elite.
Mongo walks up to TK and whacks him over the head with his Haliburton, then leaves.
Greene crawls up to TK and damn near rips his kneecap off with his teeth, then leaves.
Bigelow walks up to TK, slaps him, celebrates, then leaves.
"I wish I was in the nWo Elite", Sphere says.
"Oh, wait, I'm in charge!", Sphere shouts before reaching over and punching TK in the side of the head. He then raises his arms in the air, making two fists, and shouts "I HAVE THE POWERRRRRRRRRRR!"
Ultimate Warrior & "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan vs. Renegade & Virgil
Because the last segment in Sphere's office ran long, this match was joined in progress, with Renegade trying to lift Duggan up in a gorilla press, causing Warrior to roll his eyes from his position on the apron.
"Those who think that they are equal with the Warrior will soon discover that they are unable to emulate the power maneuvers of the Warrior!"
Renegade manages to get Duggan up and does an ACTUAL gorilla press slam. None of that "drop them behind you" crap.
"Fiddlesticks, says the Warrior."
Renegade tags Virgil, who repeatedly stomps Duggan and calls him a "chicken". Shortly before what looks to be the finishing stomp, a SOBER Barry Bladberth hops the guardrail and trips Virgil, knocking him out cold. Duggan gets up and looks around the ring.
Duggan takes two steps, hits the Old Glory Kneedrop on Virgil, and gets the three-count.
"While he pulled his own weight, it took more than the Power of Hacksaw to overcome the Forces of Evil in this matchup between three vicious gladiators and one very sorry imposter. Yes, the Power of the Warrior lead this Dream Team of righteous souls to victory on this fine day, which will forever go down in the annals....of historyyyyyyyy! AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHAAAAARRRRR!"
Winners: Ultimate Warrior & "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan by pinfall
The Search Continues
Evil Smokey The Bear walked into a locker room.
Waru's locker room.
"Yo, BITCH! You steal ma boy Ted E.'s tape?"
"Siren? Is that you? Oh my God, I KNEW you'd come back!"
"Ah be out."
Evil Smokey leaves as Waru runs into the wall with his arms outstretched.
Finally, there were three WOMEN standing in front of Sphere.
Nitro Girl Siren, the current reigning North Dakotan Janitorweight Champion.
Sphere turns to Texas Kid.
"Watch and learn, junior."
"No, my dad's a junior."
Sphere ignores TK and addresses the ladies.
"Evil-Lyn, Evil-Lyn, Evil-Lyn. How were you feeling after your match last week?"
"I had to take the longest shower EVER. I think Kay Fabe had a mayonnaise jar in her tights and I think it broke or something. It got all over my shirt, and I'm allergic to that stuff!"
"Whoa, hey, good thing I'm not standing up right now, right? Hehehehe."
Evil-Lyn gave Sphere a confused look.
"Uh, yes, anyway, see, this...guy...right here? He was in charge last week, and he obviously has no idea on how to book a women's match. So I'm doing this. We're having a North Dakotan Janitorweight Title match at Royal Battle. Siren? You're defending the title against Evil-Lyn. Oh, and Claire? You'll be the referee for this match."
"Why's that?", the lone female member of the STUMP Squad asks Sphere.
"Because you weren't here last week. Haven't you been paying attention to all these meetings that have been going on in this room? Christ. So, yes, that is all. You may now leave. Very slowly."
All three women turn and walk out of the locker room, as Sphere and Texas Kid enjoy every second of it.
"You! Stop looking at them. Only *I* may look at them.", Sphere tells TK, shortly before waving his arms around and doing a little dance in his seat, while TK looks dejected. Suddenly, Sphere remembers something. "Ooh! I gotta make that call and see if I can get a sprinkler system installed in the ring for that match!"
Black Quicksilver vs. Bill White & Mike Clark
SACJ went to the ring, as "Slave To The Grind" hit, bringing out Black Quicksilver. His opponents for this handicap match, Bill White and Mike Clark, were already standing in the ring. BQ hopped over the top rope and White immediately tried to clothesline him, but BQ ducked and hit Clark with a clothesline of his own. He then blasted White with the SuperQuick-SilverKick and played to the....chairs.
BQ's attempt to get a face pop was interrupted by Clark, who tapped him gently on the back with a closed fist.
"Wait, that's not how you do a Liger Bomb. Stupid Mike, stupid!", Clark said to himself aloud, shortly before BQ planted him with the Alpo. BQ then climbed up to the top rope and flattened Clark with the Cherry Bomb. As he got to his feet, he noticed White coming to, and wondered to himself.
"I guess he didn't get the memo that a BQ superkick is LETHAL. Or...wait...is it lethal?"
Before he could answer himself, White took a swing at him.
It would've helped if White had stepped out of the corner and walked over to BQ, who was a good ten feet away from him, before he swung.
BQ decided it'd be best to just drop him with Cubic Zirconium Cutter and hit him with the Shooting Jobber Press. He once again got to his feet, and this time, he saw Clark struggling to pull himself up in the corner, so he busted out a move that originally got him into that...other fW-fed.
The Handspring Elbow.
Clark was out, but that wasn't enough.
BQ climbed up top.
BQ gets the three-count, defeating TWO men, and thus earning himself an official fWEo contract.
"Holy crap! That match was all me! And I used actual MOVES!"
Winner: Black Quicksilver by pinfall
The Prom, Part Two
Somewhere, who knows where, a prom was going on. A CD player was playing some dance music.
Oddly, the prom lacked the typical grinding, oversexed, well-dressed bodies that should have been there. Instead, hanging out near the punch bowl and food table stood Kay Fabe, Sarah "The Jobber Slayer", Styles, Xamfir and Jeannie. Known collectively to Brawlers On a Budget followers as the Slayaholics.
Kay had an arm wrapped around Sarah. So far wrapped around in fact, that her hand was on Sarah's left breast. She's only comforting her. Really.
"What the hell kind of prom is this?" Kay wondered.
"Well, it is December. Most proms happen in May. Eh." She shrugged.
"So Angel isn't going to show up, huh?"
"He's 28 years old. He doesn't exactly GET the prom. But it's no biggie. I've got my friends here. And that's all that matters. I'm going to give you all a nice, fun, normal evening, if I have to kill every single person on the face of the earth to do it."
"Well, luckily, you'll only have to take care of a pack of devil dogs."
Xamfir *ahem*ed. "Well, this is all well and good, but Jeannie, my wishmistress, I wish that you will come bump and grind with me on the dance floor."
"Your wish is granted. As if I have a freakin' choice," Jeannie said flatly.
And then, they were here. A pack of devil dogs.
Sarah's eyes opened in horror.
"Good God. Do you KNOW how many calories there are in those. I can't do it."
"But if you don't eat them, everyone will be devoured," Styles said. "Devoured….by BOREDOM!"
"How so?" Sarah wondered.
"Well, if you don't eat those Devil Dogs, they will become a part of the fWEo roster," Styles said in his best end-of-the-world voice. "Just like a bottle of 7-UP and a bottle of Cherry 7-Up. More jobbers Sarah. You must eat them!"
"Oh NO. BORT IS TYPING! OH MY GOD! Quick, before he finds a picture on GOOGLE!"
Some heavy footsteps echoed on the floor as Sarah stared at the snack cake, still wrapped in plastic. Kay pinched Sarah's ass. To get her attention no doubt. Sarah turned around and saw him…
That's what I told you!
"Angel? I want to Slay the Devil Dogs. But I just can't! It's all your fault! You know, I've given up on dreaming of having the perfect Sarah/Angel moment, but…I don't want to gain weight! And the fWEo will continue to spread bad gimmicks if I don't eat these things. What should I do?"
Nowell blinked, "Zuh?"
Kay Fabe shook her head. "Awwwww, CRAP." She snatched the Devil Dog package from a mesmerized Sarah, opened it, and shoved both Devil Dogs STRAIGHT IN ANGEL'S MOUTH!
"Chew it dead boy," Kay commanded.
"Mmph! MMPH!" Nowell yelled, as he fell to the ground awkwardly, trying to register the fact that some Devil Dogs were now in his mouth.
Sarah put her hands over her heart. "Oh Angel. You really DO love me!"
"I love you too! Oh, how I've longed to hear those words from your precious lips!"
"MMPH? Mmph mmmph mmmmph!"
Sarah lifted Angel up and wrapped her arms around him. She closed her eyes and put her head against his strong chest. Sure she couldn't hear his heart beating, but that was OK. She knew he loved her. And they danced.
"You don't have to say anything, Angel. You said it all when you saved me from those Devil Dogs." And as they slow danced to Aerosmith's "Angel" the world was indeed perfect for Sarah. At least for now.
Will they live happily ever after?
The First Fifteen
We're taken to Sphere's office yet again, and yes, he has some guests.
Mr. T and La Parka.
"Gentlemen, I've called you in here to help me out with something.", Sphere told them.
"We are at your service.", Mr. T told his boss.
"Thank you, Parka. T, you're very ungrateful for not saying anything to me. Anyway, I'm going to announce the first fifteen participants for the Royal Battle battle royal. Masked Freak, you hum the theme song while I say the names. Parka, you do your little jitterbug or whatever it is you do, and T? Just hold these pictures here and hold up the next one every time I say a new name."
"So you just want me to stand here and look pretty?", T asked.
"I don't know what you're trying to say, but just stand there and TRY....yes, TRY to look pretty. You'll no doubt fail miserably, and I think you deserve it for turning into such a jackass after I decided to become successful. Ahem...now...competing in the Royal Battle battle royal...."
Texas Kid started humming the Royal Battle theme song, causing La Parka to start shimmying. Meanwhile, T held up the first picture, as Sphere read off the first name.
"Duh duh! Duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh! Duh duh! Duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh!"
""Hacksaw" Jim Duggan!"
"Bam Bam Bigelow!"
"The ULLLLLLLLLLLTIMATE Warrior!"
TK went into the second part of the theme song.
"Buh buh buh buh buh, buh buh buh, buh buh BUH! Duh duh! Duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh! Duh duh! Duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh!", and Sphere continued reading off the names.
"And...the UNDERWEARTAKER! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the Royal Battle, LIVE on January 18th, from The Summit in Houston, Texas! ONLY on PAY-PER-VIEW!"
"Wait, it's in Texas?", TK asked.
"Don't get any bright ideas", Sphere warned him.
Senor Funpants & Jackhammer vs. Reginald VelJohnson & Lawrence Taylor
SACJ went down to the ring for the last time today, as "Basketball", by Bow Wow, who is no longer "Lil", played, bringing out the team of Reginald VelJohnson & Lawrence Taylor. As soon as they danced their way into the ring, the team of Senor Funpants & Jackhammer power-walked to the ring, with no music playing.
Both men got in the ring at the same time. Funpants went after LT, while Jackhammer grabbed VelJohnson. Funpants planted LT with Dockers sponsors Senor Funpants' finisher...Nice Pants, while Jackhammer goes for the HammerFall on VelJohnson, but can't quite seem to get him up.
"You're a LARGE American!", Jackhammer proclaimed.
Rather than drop VelJohnson on his head and be shipped off to Japan, Jackhammer merely tosses him from the ring and gives the already out-of-it LT the HammerFall. Funpants and Jackhammer each place a foot on LT's chest, and they get the three-count.
Yes, another exciting edition of Saturday Afternoon's Curtain Jerker comes to a close, with Sean Mooney begging everyone to watch the next show in two weeks, which will feature the finals of the Jobber of the Year Tournament. Please. He begs you.
Winners: Senor Funpants & Jackhammer by pinfall
Janitor Nine vs. Kamikazie Ken: Renner & Leary
The Prom, Part One: Renner & Leary
No Dance Contests Allowed: Bort
Underweartaker vs. Bob Smith: Bort & Renner
Um, Yeah: Renner
Mike Heftel vs. Kay Fabe: Bort & Leary
nWo Elite: Bort
Ultimate Warrior & "Hacksaw" Jim Duggan vs. Renegade & Virgil: Bort
The Search Continues: Bort
Black Quicksilver vs. Bill White & Mike Clark: Bort
The Prom, Part Two: Renner & Leary
The First Fifteen: Bort
Senor Funpants & Jackhammer vs. Reginald VelJohnson & Lawrence Taylor: Bort
© 2002 WR4I/BOB! The most feared collaboration has come to pass. God save us all....