[Andy]

Punisher comes out to post the line-up

Pun- Okay listen, I don't know exactly where our PHWF Tag Team Titles have ended up, but Adjuster and Adrenaline, you have ten days to bring them back and defend them. Capslock, I'm gonna need you to stop shooting people. Kenji, please stop flying and we'll be good. Courtney, I'll give you Eco within the confines of our tag match, but not one-on-one yet, and everyone better be prepared for Ultimate N. I want it to kick ass. Also Spin and LD, due to your loses by nefarious means, I'll make the winner of your match the #1 contender for the PHWF Championship after it is decided. That is all.

Ultimate N for the N-Sanity Championship
Concrete TG vs. Viet Cong Viper vs. The Knife vs. Kenji vs. S-Y-B vs. Ryan Tab

PHWF Championship Tournament Finals
Moosehead Jack vs. Chris Alt
MGB vs. Chris Cole

PHWF Tag Team Championship Match
The Chickenshit Heels vs. FF Capslock and Ryan Insert vs. Courtney Shaw and Master Gator vs. Ecosystem and Tex

PHWF Championship #1 Contenders match
Spin Hansen vs. LD Williams

[Concrete TG]

"Odd Questions" Mark Bitchem catches up with Concrete as he walks into the arena.

MB: Concrete, can you comment on your match last week and Moosehead Jack's interference?

CTG: I've seen the tape. and I'm concerned about that. I'll be checking into it shortly - right now, I'm on my way to Pun's office to talk to him about having the N-sanity title contested under Dragonball Z rules.

MB: why would you want to contest under those rules? The N-sanity division has NO rules whatsoever!

CTG: You misunderstand me... I mean, "Kanchiigai suru na, shitsumonjun,....."

MB: wha?????

CTG: Mark, how short your memory! My consolation prize at the OOWF awards last year was "Most likely to Star in a Dragonball Z movie". Well, I have!

(CTG whips out an 8x10)



(CTG signs it and hands it to Mark)

CTG: now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with the GM.

[Concrete TG]

(we come back from commercial to see CTG in Pun's office. Pun looks deep in thought, and CTG seems pretty excited)

CTG: I'm telling you, Pun, this could MAKE us! having the N-Sanity title contested under Dragonball Z rules would blow everyone away

Pun: Unfortunately, that'd be literal. We can't afford an arena big enough for that! We're just getting off the ground!

CTG: we get the right outdoor location, it'd be perfect! we'll grid off the ring like the "Ring" used in -

Pun: Easy there geekboy. I wasn't too keen on the flying to begin with!

CTG: but if we're flying, we can zip over the crowd for stunts! they;ll love it!

Pun: what if you hit the crowd with one of those... laser whatever things you shoot out of your hands?

CTG: oooh, you'd let us use those? It's been a while for me....

un: "When did YOU use that crap in wrestling?"

CTG: I've worked in Japan before

Pun: .... look, I really gotta think about this, I don't want this league to turn into WSX Anime-style

CTG: It won't be. We won't be able to power up too much wihtout blowing out the cameras.

Pun: I can't believe I'm even considering this. OUT!

CTG: (as he hurries out) It'll get us tons of fans, trust me!!

[Jack Quinn]

<FF Capslock stands near GM Pun's office reading a notice that was just posted>

DUE TO INSURANCE COSTS, NO FIREARMS OF ANY KIND WILL BE ALLOWED ON PHWF PREMISES IN THE FUTURE. THANK YOU. - mgmt.

FF: What the hell? You shoot a <click> guy once or twice and this is <click> what it comes to? Back in the day <click> did they stop Kevin Sullivan from <click> shooting at Dusty Rhodes? No they <click> did not! This is an out <click> rage! This is taking away my <click> rights as a <click>......

OK WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT NOISE AND WHERE THE HELL ARE THESE NAILS COMING FROM!!!!!!!!

<Capslock turns around in time to see Moosehad Jack standing behind him with an industrial strenth nail gun. Jack pulls the trigger and three nails shoot out and nail Lock in the thign. Lock falls to one knee in pain>

GODDAMMIT THAT HURT!

<Unfazed, Jack squeezes the trigger again and catches Lock in the shoulder with another nail, Lock falls to his hands and knees now>

I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU!

<before he can get to his feet, Jack lets three nails fly and they land in the back of Lock's hand, Lock bellows in pain and gets to his feet, Lock charges at Jack and stops just short when Jack puts the nail gun to Lock's head, the two stand glaring at one another>

FF: Now what Jack?

<Jack squeezes the trigger but the nail gun jams, Lock gets an evil grin on his face, but Jack stops him by smacking him in the head with the nail gun sending him to the floor. Jack pounces on Lock and grabs the gun and smashes it into Lock's head opeing a huge gash on his forehead. The two men roll around on the floor in the blood and nails. Finally Jack gets to his feet and grabs a couple of nails laying on the floor and puts them in his hand, when Lock stands up Jack NAILS him with a nail assisted HEART PUNCH! Lock falls to one knee and Jack finishes him off by getting a running start and slamming the now broken nail gun into his face again. Lock falls to the floor unconscious and bleeding>

MHJ: This isn't over yet Lock, trust me

<Jack limps off>

[The Jewish Cunthead]

SYB is celebrating backstage with his best friend... himself.

"(looks at the line-up)... a 6-way with 5 other guys? Huh, sounds like Viper's Friday night. Concrete? The Knife? Kenji? Ryan Tab? The fuck? I'm fighting some dude I can distract with a 6-sided die, some dude who makes shoes, Kenji the Asexual Wonder Fuck and a punk named after a soda? I'm so much better than this and when I win, I want a shot at the title. I know you can hear me Corbitt. Make it happen Shorty or it's another 100 years without a World Series win.... was that a fucking nail gun?"

SYB watches Jack limp off in horror and amusement.

"Bring that shit to me man. You don't fucking scare me with your 8-) trust me bullshit and your nail gun. I'll make you my bitch and fuck your empty eye socket. Make your move Jack. Make your move."

[Jack Quinn]

<Jack hears SYB's taunts and slowly turns toward SYB. SYB immediately shits himself. Jack flinches toward SYB and SYB screams like a girl and turns around to run away, only to run head first into a conveinently placed support beam. SYB is knocked out cold. Jack smirks and limps away>

[punk/core]

[Ryan Insert sitting in the locker room, smiling, when Large-Breasted Redhead Interviewer approaches him]

Large-Breasted Redhead: Ryan, how can you possible be smiling? You lost your match tonight. You're 0-2. And your tag team partner was assaulted with a nail gun. What do you have to be happy about.

Ryan Insert: I have plenty to be happy about sweetie. I just got a call from the hospital. Capslock is gonna be just fine. Thankfully, none of the nails his anything important... he has a few puncture wounds, and he'll be taped up and home by morning.

LBR: That's great news, so he'll be okay for your Tag Team Title match in ten days?

Insert: Sweetheart, he'll be better than okay. If you want to worry about anyone, worry about Moose. Because you better believe Capslock will be coming after him. And I might just want a piece of the guy that decided to shoot up my partner, too. If Moose saw my performance tonight, he should be worried about what might happen to him if he gets in the ring with me. Just look what I did to Tab.

LBR: But, you--

Insert: Did exactly what I wanted it to. I told that poser that he would be sorry he came in here and stole my identity. And look at him now. He couldn't even walk out of the ring. He might have a broken neck. But you know what? I hope he doesn't... as a matter of fact, I really hope that he's able to walk into that N-Sanity Title match, and win the belt.

LBR: Why would you want that?

Insert: Simple. By losing that qualifying match, I put myself into a position to become one half of the Tag Team Champions. And when me and Capslock win those belts, I might just get a craving for some double gold... and when I do, there is no one I'd rather destroy for the N-Sanity Title than that little hobbitpaladinfuck. Now if you'll excuse me, it's about time to head to the hotel and go to bed. Care to join me?

LBR: Sure! Should I grab my suitcase?

Insert: Nah, you won't need it. I plan to kick you out of the room after a couple of hours anyway.

[The Knife]

The Knife is on top of a building looking down on Donovan Viper

TK- Leviathan. Finally we shall meet in the hallowed ring for battle. You will pay for your sins. While S-Y-B, Kenji and Tab are most assuredly sinners, your sins far outweigh theirs. I am torn, however, on Concrete TG. He is virtuous, yet I have no use for him. He hasn't helped me on my mission from God, he's too busy playing dress-up. But I'll leave you alone if I can, but if it comes down to you and me, Concrete, I won't hesitate to take you out. But first and foremost, Leviathan most pay for his sins. While winning the N-Sanity Title would validate me and give me more opprotunities to take out whomever I wish, I can't selfishly lust after a belt. I'm not that way. I will be selfless and vigilant. My mission is clear. I must make you pay, Leviathan. I must make you pay.

[Ryan Who Loves Punk]

Ryan Tab is being interviewed by a Metrosexual Male Journalist!

Tab: Stop following me around.

MMJ: No.

Tab: Oh come on. Insert gets a large breasted redhead and I get some gay guy? This is not cool. This is not what the PWHF should be all about.

MMJ: Well, you did rip off his gimmick.

Tab: No, listen. It's ironic, so it's actually quite clever.

MMJ: Anyways, you have an Ultimate N match for the N-Sanity title. How do you think you'll fare?

Tab: I bet I'll own everyone, just like I owned that loser Insert.

MMJ: Uh, you might have broken your neck.

Tab: It hurts, too. Ouch!

MMJ: Well, clearly you have no original gimmick and your interviews suck. Large Breasted Redhead, back to you.

LBR: I'm standing here with Ryan Insert.

Tab: No, you're not. You're right here.

*Insert comes out of nowhere and ATTACKS~! Ryan Tab in a vicious and painful manner.*

Insert: Applesauce, bitch.

[Loki]

Kenji and the midget translator are looking at the postings for the next event.

Kenji: [speaking in Japanese] <That was what I call fighting. My last opponent, Master Gator, was a worthy adversary. His ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’ fighting style was impressive. It would be an honor and a pleasure to face him again.>

Midget: <They refer to it as ‘Dragonball Z’ style over here. Sadly, it has been outlawed in all future events.>

Kenji: <What? Why?>

**** Brief flashback to Commissioner Pun and Concrete’s discussion of Pun’s concerns of his league turning into a WSX-anime horror show. ****

Midget: <The Commissioner’s former gay lover was a ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’ style fighter, and the memories your fighting style evokes are too painful for him.> He pauses, then resumes.<Plus, seeing the two of you fight that way was a bit of a turn-on for him.>

Kenji: [keeps his face carefully blank] <Ah. I shall not use that style, then. No sense in causing undue emotional anguish.> He looks at the sheet again. <So tell me, who is my next opponent?>

Midget: <According to this, you will be competing in the Ultimate N for the N-Sanity Championship. You will be fighting against five other opponents in the same match.>

Kenji: <Ah. A true test of my fighting abilities.>

Midget: [pretending to read off the sheet.] <In deference to your martial arts mastery, Commissioner Pun has decreed that it shall be a weapons match. You are to supply the other five competitors with various weapons.>

Kenji: <I am honored that the Commissioner has such faith in my abilities. I will not disappoint. Are we all to have the same weapons, or shall I give everyone a different armament?>

Midget: [still pretending to read off the sheet]< I apologize. You misunderstand. THEY are all allowed to have weapons. YOU are not.>

Kenji: [pause as he digests this] <....Ah. I see.>

[Capellan]

There is a clash of symbols, and a fanfare of blaring trumpets. The eleven members of the typical PHWF audience quit throwing popcorn at each other for a few seconds to see what's going on.

A small chinese man comes out onto the stage. He's wearing those natty blue PRC pyjamas and carrying a red book that's the size of a telephone directory. The crowd readies itself to ignore him, but then notices that he is flanked by Two Smoking Hot Geishas (TM). They pay attention.

"I am Chairman Liao! I have come to this wessering plomotion to ploove the superliolity of Ancient Chinese Communist Fighting Techniques! Your fighters show much potential, but only by apprication of Ancient Plecepts of Tlue Fighting Power can they become the gleatest the world has ever seen! I, Chairman Liao, offer them that knowledge! Also: Amazing Sex with Hot Geisha Girls! Or Hot Geisha Guys: Chairman Liao not discliminate even against big sweaty poof men. Or women. Not so long as they want to learn Ancient Plecepts of Tlue Fighting Power and show decadent western audience total wessering domination!"

And then, while the audience is still trying to work out whether to boo or laugh, Chairman Liao and his Two Smoking Hot Geishas (TM) leave the stage.


(OOC: PM me if you want a manager for your wesserer ... I mean "wrestler". Offer of Hot Geisha Loving not valid in the real world.)

[Attitude Adjuster]

Attitude Adjuster and Johnny Adrenaline are in their inferior accomodations, deciding whether to defend the PHWF tag team titles.

AA: I can't believe I'm still here.

JA: I have to admit these aren't the first class accomodations I expected when I signed my contract.

AA: If it weren't for the great angle we have with Drink & Destroy over in the OO(beeep) with these title belts, I'm pretty sure I'd just do an Austin Idol and no-show this place.

JA: By the way, is that your new gimmick here? The wrestler who couldn't care less about his job?

AA: Ehh, why not. What's your gimmick, anyway?

JA: Well, someone tried to pin the cowboy thing on me over here, but I'm not sure I'm digging on it. Maybe I should go back to the country club golfer. Does your character still gamble over here?

AA: Dude, that's not a gimmick.

JA: Always wondered about that. You were always into that one 100 percent. Anyway, should we do a promo for the four-way this week?

AA: Are you kidding? Like we're going to lose the titles? We created these titles for our gimmick in the OO(beep). We can't lose them! So I don't know why we have to work at all to promote this match. Let some of those other beat-offs act like they deserve these titles by cutting a promo.

JA: Sounds good to me. Guess I'll go play 18 holes.

AA: I need to check the college hoop lines. Already got Southern Miss -2.5 against Houston.

[Courtney]

(Hot Nathan-Petrelliesque Reporter stops Courtney Shaw as she leaves her private dressing room)

HNPR: Excuse me Courtney...may I have a moment?

Courtney: I really don't feel like...(turning around)...not... talking to you. What do you need?

HNPR: You have a tag match this Sunday for the PHWF titles. You're teaming with Master Gator, who obviously wants to have dirty dirty sex with you. Any thoughts?

Courtney: Dirty dirty sex...you...wait, nevermind. Ok Courtney, promo mode. What did you say?

HNPR: You're match? On Sunday? Thoughts?

Courtney: Oh yeah. Tag match. Well, let me put it this way. I don't give a flying flipfuck about the titles. Adjuster and Adrenaline are pretty funny dudes so they can keep them. I only care about one thing in this match and that's kicking the holy shit out of Ecosystem. That fucker has screwed me over twice and GM Pun seems intent on NOT giving me a one-on-one match. Asshole.

HNPR: So...Ecosystem screws you out of the Heavyweight Title and the N-Sanity Title and now you have a shot at another title, but you don't care?

Courtney: Oh Nathan, you're pretty. Apparently, that's your only attribute. But that's ok.

HNPR: So you do care?

Courtney: No I don't. The ONLY thing I want is Ecosystem's scrawny neck in my hands.

HNPR: Oh ok.

Courtney: Good job. Are we done?

HNPR: Yes.

(Courtney starts walking away, but turns back.)

Courtney: Hey, one more thing...

HNPR: Yes?

Courtney: Gator better keep his slimy hands to himself.

[Andy]

Capslock and Insert are hanging out in some...uh...some sort of place...that they...would hang out...at.

FF- Hey there, how are you?

RI- Okay, I suppose. Are you okay?

FF- I'm alive. I can take an untold number of nails directly to the face.

RI- I did not know that. So somebody took notice of our special friendship and booked us in a tag team match.

FF- Yeah. What kind of genius books this stuff?

RI- One brilliant motherfucker, I know that for sure.

FF- So we have a chance to win the belts in our first match ever?

RI- Better than just a chance. You're the biggest, strongest guy in this league and I'm the most insane N-Sanity divison wrestler on the planet.

FF- Insane N-Sanity wrestler? That was fuckin' lame.

RI- Sorry. Fuck. I'm just sayin' that we can win these belts. We're facing two guys who don't even wanna be here, a republican and a cerafiable crazy man, and a chick with...uh...a guy who wrestles with a chick as a partner.

FF- Its looking much better, now. Maybe we do have a chance here. But what do we call ourselves?

RI- London & Kendrick!

FF- I think that's been used before.

RI- Seriously? How about The Date Rapists!

FF- Well, that's more you. I'm not really much of a date rapist...

RI- The Cornholers!

FF- No...I was thinking more...

RI- The Dirty Snachez!

FF- No, no, I really...

RI- Cum On Your Mom's Tits!

FF- I'm not gonna be in a team...

RI- Pizza Pussy Santa!!!

FF- What?

RI- Because everyone likes at least ONE of those things!

FF- I guess you have a point, but...

RI- Well, what name ould you like Vince?

VKM- I don't care if you call yourselves Double Trouble Crap On A Stick!

FF- That's not bad.

RI- What if we did something to reflect our ethnic diversity. Something to accent my mexican heritage of the up-and-coming race in America and me joining with a white man who have been in power for many years.

FF- Spic & Span?

[Concrete TG]

(PHWF Commissioner Pun is reading over some paperwork. Standing in front of his desk is a man in his early forties with a graying flat-top haircut and dressed in a well-pressed but inexpensive suit)

Pun: .... this is quite impressive. So you're applying to be a "Name" referee here?

Man: that is correct, sir. Please check my references.

Pun: .... you know Sterling Glaw?

Man: Yes sir.

Pun: and it appears you have worked extensively with Glaw in the past. I certainly need a good Senior referee here, Mr.....

Man: Ward. Alexander Ward.

Pun: .... I'll be in touch, but I think we can work something out.

Ward: Thank you. (walks out)

(an Invisible Ninja Cameraman-in-training spots Ward in the hallway as he walks a short distance, then ducks into an empty office)

Ward: (takes out his phone and makes a quick call) It's me... right.. looks good from here... I understand. I will report when I have more information.

[williamssl]

<Backstage after losing to the Jooooo>

Goldwater’s head: Dammit! How on earth did we lose to a Joooo? And a scrawny Joooo at that?

Kemp’s head: I know how we lost. We lost because the writer didn’t read our promo. Either that, or the match was alreaday written when we gave it.

Nixon’s head: What are you talking about?

Reagan's head: I used to be able to read.

Kemp: It’s simple. In our last promo, several facts were revealed. One – Tex’s entrance music was the Refreshment’s “Theme from King of the Hill.” But when he entered the match, he got “Bush was Right” by the Right Brothers. Two – Anna Nicole Smith’s preserved boobs debuted at the end of our promo as Tex’s valet, but they were nowhere to be found in the match.

Anna Nicole Smith’s boobs: We jiggle!

Kemp: And three – we revealed two of Tex’s moves – the filibuster and trickle down economics – and none of them were used in the match.

Nixon: I think you’re onto something there. Although that match was brilliantly written…

Rove: Heads, heads, heads. We’ve got to think about the upcoming tag match. There’s belts to be won.

Tex: Yeah, dammit. I have lots of big shiny belt buckles, but nothing like these tag belts.

Goldwater: Well…it just so happens that Tex is now teaming up with Eco as a tag team…and Eco wrote that match. And Eco’s also dead.

Nixon: I’ve got the perfect strategy. We’re going up against several teams, but its Gator and Courtney that we have to be worried about. Gator first. What does Gator like?

Reagan: Gatorade?

Nixon: No you drooler. Gator likes titties.

Anna Nicole Smith’s boobs: I’m titties!

Nixon: Exactly. Assuming you accompany Tex and Eco to the ring, Gator will be completely distracted.

Kemp: What about Courtney? And her ruggedly good looking Sawyer tag-along? Sawyer is bound to interfere in the match.

Goldwater: I think I’ve got a plan for Sawyer. It involves Rove, a leather thong, and a whip. Sawyer will be putty after seeing this.

Rove: Ooooh goodie goodie goodie!

All the President’s Heads: Aahahahahahahahaha. Excellent.

Tex: But what are Eco and I going to be called? All great tag teams have cool names. We can’t just be called “Tex and Eco” or “Eco and Tex”. That’s like “Cade and Murdoch”, and they suck.

Kemp: They should be called <whispers something to the room>.

Tex: Brilliant! G.O.P. for short.

Rove: Now let’s go revive Eco. He’s not going to do us any good as a tag team partner dead. Plus I think he’ll have a hard time writing matches dead as well.

EDIT: If anyone has a good tag team name that supports the GOP acronymn and isn't something like Gaping Orangutan Pussy or Gays On Parade, please PM me!! thx

[Chris Eco]

(Eco bumps into Tex.)

Tex: Whoa! I thought you were dead!

Eco: Why would I be dead?

Tex: Well--

Kemp: Don't remind him. Let the continuity just fade away.

Tex: Ah. Anyway, you know we're teaming now.

Eco: Really? Why?

Tex: Because I came out and helped you beat up a woman last week?

Eco: Why did we do that?

Tex: Because we're Republicans and we hate women?

Eco: RIGHT! I forgot. Wait...didn't I want to be her partner originally, and only cost her the title by accident? Am I actually a fa--

Nixon: LOOK! SHINY THING!

Eco: (looking around) Where?

BRICK~! walks in.

Goldwater: BRICK~!! Why did Eco let Tex lose to a Joooooooooo?

BRICK~!: Wait...wasn't either you or your father a Joooooooooo convert?

Goldwater: Point being?

Anna Nicole's Boobs: *bounce in full agreement of the irrelevance of the point*

Reagan: They're like a lava lamp.

Tex: Hey, who's booking our match this week?

(Pause)

Tex: Or, rather, who would be booking our match if wrestling was fake, which it certainly is not?

Kemp: (checks sheet held in his nonexistent hands.) Ecosystem.

Eco: What was the shiny thing? Was it the nickel in my pocket?

Tex: Shoot.

[Capellan]

Chairman Liao is backstage with his ZOMG Hot Geisha Babes~! when he's approached by none other than LD Williams.

"I hear you're looking for wrestlers."

"Yes. I teach wesserers Ancient Plecepts of Tlue Fighting Power ." Liao nods, "They win many big shiny belts. Tellible dispray of western consumer decadence, but plove superiority of Chinese Communist Fighting Techniques!"

"Uh ... yeah." LD raises his eyebrows, "Look, what I really want is someone to take care of all the managerial bullshit. I want to concentrate on beating the hell out of people I fight, not worrying about my sponsorship deals and all that crap. You think you can handle that stuff?"

"Of course." Liao steeples his hands in front of him and adopts a serene expression, "I have collespondence deglee in Business from Golden Phoenix University of Beijing."

"Right. You draw up a contract then. I'll look it over and if it seems like you aren't trying to cheat me, I'll sign up."

"An excellent choice, Comlade Wirriams!" Liao bows low, "I shall prepare the scloll of contlact immediately. Perhaps you would care to sample the Geishas while you wait?"

"No thanks. I'm not into that sort of thing."

"Ah so. You are pansy? I can get boys if-"

"No!" LD interrupts, "That's not what I meant. I just need a manager, not a pimp."

"Ah!" Liao suddenly smiles and taps his nose, "You are storing your male energy to make you more powerful fighter. Clever!"

"Uh ... yeah, that's it."

"Come to my office." Liao waves toward a nearby door, "I have contlacts all leady. You will be preased with my services. Make you big star in Glorious People's Lepublic, and even bigger star in decadent western wessering plomotion."

[salmonjunkie]

***OOC***

Perhaps Tex and Viet Cong Viper should be a tag team. If there's anyone who supports the republicans and the war, it's the Vietnamese-American commmunity.

[Ryan Who Loves Punk]

*Ryan Insert walks up to Ryan Tab*

Insert: Hey motherfucker, I just made a tag team with some guy who uses fucking automatic weapons in matches. Also, we're having an internet poll to name ourselves and everything. Everyone's voting. Bitch.

*He slaps Tab then walks away*

Tab: I'll show you! I'll make my own tag team. Yeah, and it'll be better than yours! How about... Slip 'n' Slide! Yeah, that's badass.