[Carlitos Coconut]

(AE and Referee Chad Patton are discussing plans for their match in their locker room)

CP: Dude, you need to focus, this match is key to your return.

AE: What do you mean, I already defeated Khan handily last week. I don't need to sweat him.

CP: Don't you know how traditional wrestling booking works? You win the first match, a rematch is signed, the previous loser wins through nefarious means. Trust me, man, I've seen it a million times.

AE: Thats what you're for, you and the other referees share a brotherly bond right, with you both getting beat up by us and what not. He'll believe you if you point out and wrongdoing.

CP: I don't know, man. You better watch out for the dreaded tight pulling or rope footing.

AE: Are those even verbs?

CP: Yes, the Grand Wizards Grand Book of Managing says so.

AE: Lemme see

CP: NO!....Erhm, just do some more squat thrusts.

(AE continues preparing for his match as Chad Patton scours the index of his book for rope footing)

[Tommy]

*"Pull Me Under" starts up and Davin Moreland slaps hands with the fans, chatting it up on the way to the ring. Eschewing a Plot Device this evening, he double jumps into the ring, walks to the far side, and calls for a mic. He SPEAKS!@!@@*

DM: So...everyone's asking me lately...What's your deal, Davin? Why are you yelling at your teammates, Davin? Why are you *finger quotes* "crossing the line" in your matches Davin? You don't seem like the same guy, Davin? What's wrong?

*Mixed reaction, mostly just random cheering from the crowd*

DM: Well, I gotta tell ya; if you think I've changed, then you haven't been paying attention.

*cheers*

DM: I embarrassed Chris Cole, and beat him for his #1 Contender's Spot. That was a month ago, and guess what? I'm still waiting for my damned match! I don't want to say LD is ducking me or anything; he doesn't seem the type - but when he's wrestling Knife for a title, and I'm stuck in a tag match, what does that tell you?

*boos*

DM: That's right. I'm sick of Bennett giving the nod to Crete, to Stank, to freakin' Knife, to basically everyone BUT me for my title shot. You scared Bennett? You scared I might actually WIN? That would certainly put a damper on your precious little war, wouldn't it?

*cheers*

DM: And I'll talk to you about our little war here. You see; I've been Team Rick from Day 1. That's something very few people can say. Stank can't say that. Hell, even the "superhero trying to hog the spotlight" can't say that. All along, Davin Moreland has been the face of this war, and we've overcome all odds - and we're STILL HERE!

*cheers*

DM: And there is NO DOUBT in my mind; Bennett will fall, and the OOWF will be back to relative normal; and I, Davin Moreland, will be your champion.

*cheers*

DM: Now, I've got a few people I want to talk about tonight, first and foremost is my opponent at the PPV, Poe. Poe? You talk a nice game, and you've gotten lucky a couple times; but let me ask you...how's your ankle?

*laughing*

DM: You see; you mistook me for Darling. I am not Darling, I am Davin Moreland. I am 2-time Onslaught Champion and the longes-ever reigning Onslaught Champion. I am the number one contender to the World Heavyweight Champion. I don't care what you did in Japan. I don't care what you think of me. You've disrespected me, and I will make you pay. We've got ourselves a Boot camp Match Sunday; and I won't sit here and guarantee a win. God knows you could always do something cheap and get a lucky win; but I promise you one thing. Your ankle will hurt, and you will NOT leave that match the same man. You're in with Davin Moreland, and I'm backed in a corner and fighting a LITTLE BIT pissed off.

*cheers*

DM: To my teammate, Alexander...

*some booing*

DM: Hey, hey...Now Alexander, when he joined the right team, he's done a lot for us. And I'll say he's one of the most talented wrestlers in the OOWF. I still don't agree with what you did, but after last week, I think I need to tell you that I'm behind you,and I've got your back. Just stop doing stupid shit, and we'll be fine

*cheers*

DM: Concrete Takaken Gryfon...

*cheers*

DM: Now, why do you cheer him? That traitor came back here and tried to jump into the spotlight. You've interfered in countless matches and COST ME WINS. Some hero! Do yourself a favor, and just stay the hell out of my way. We're on the same team; but I'm not going to take orders from a traitor, nor will I accept losing for the sake of an attention grabber.

*lots of booing*

DM: Boo me if you want, but you know damn well that I'm right. And that brings me my final person, LD Williams.

*mixed*

DM: Yeah, I'll tell ya...not to many people I truly respect in the OOWF, but LD Williams is certainly one of them. At least, he was...

*cheers*

DM: He was until he started ducking me that is. At least, I think he's ducking me. Because he's certainly not fighting the Number One Contender in any of his title defenses. I don't know if this is Bennett's doing, of if it's LD's; but make no mistake. You CAN NOT DUCK ME FOREVER. The day will come, and I will MAKE YOU TAP!

*cheers*

DM: You've got my belt LD. I want it. I want a match. Stop ducking me.

*"Jekyll and Hyde" fires up, and LD appears at the top of the ramp*

LD: You wanna go, Moreland? Get a ref out here...and we'll do it...RIGHT. NOW!

*crowd goes ballistic as LD drops the mic. Bennett's music hits, and he comes RUNNING out, preventing LD from going to the ring, to a ridiculously loud chorus of boos. Bennett grabs the mic.*

LJB: MORELAND! You pain in the ass! You'll get your title shot when I'm damned good and ready to give it to you.

*boos*

LJB: You're on thin ice Moreland. I've let you get away with a lot of things here; most of which include you abusing your title of Assistant GM...

*boos*

LJB: So watch your step. You'll get your title shot...if you're still with the company.

DM: Your empty threats mean nothing to me Bennett. I have an idea, how about I beat YOU to get my match with Williams?

*cheers*

LJB: That's your problem Moreland, you have no respect for authority. Cut his mic off!

*Bennett virtually drags Williams away. Moreland tries to respond, but his mic has been indeed cut off, to much booing. Finally, he tosses the mic on the mat and gives the ol' Double Bird to the ramp where Bennett was, to much rejoicing in the crowd.

*fade*

[Road Warrior Shark]

Phantos sits alone in the Run-DEA Aquafina Luxury Suites. A Randomly Numbered Sexy Female Journalist approaches him.

RNSFJ: Phantos, your partner has been a little intesne as of late.

Phantos: And its kind of scary. (Spirios jumps into Phantos' lap.) I mean, Luc has always been pretty serious and focused, but for him to go off threatening Bennett like that, I don't know WHAT he'll do next.

We've been alot of places, and we've been handed our fair share of bad beats in this business,, but never has anyone messed with Luc's head like this. I really don't know what he's capable of anymore.

RNSFJ: So Bennett should definitly watch his back?

Phantos: Bennett shouldn't even go to the john by himself. Hire bodygurads, a bunch of them. Keep himself surrounded at all times. If Sunday goes bad, Lucios is likely to snap at any time, and Bennett's life will be at risk.

RNSFJ: Any words for you opponents?

Phantos: IHOP, you two might be the champions, but We are the measuring stick. Noone else in this business measures up........(sighs) that just doesn't work without Luc around.

RNSFJ: I'm sorry. Is there anyting I can do to make you feel better? (moves to sit beside Phantos)

Phantos I don't know, the hurt..... (places his head on her ample bosom and smiles)

[Eric O'Mac]

*It's a black screen. All of a sudden, Russ and Razz come on screen.*

Russ: Well everybody, it's late Saturday night, before the Pay-Per-View, and we've heard rumors of one side possibly conceding defeat tomorrow night at the pay-per-view, maybe as a show of respect for the American troops. What side do you think it'll be Razz?

Razz: It's hard to tell, this is a war that was started by the men on Team Bennett's side, but you've got a bunch of stubborn names on Rick's side as well.

Russ: Regardless, it ought to be interesting, but that's not why we're here. We have been ORDERED by LJ Bennett to replay a match from Mayhem, this time with alternate comentary, as a special for the OOWF fans at Puns House!

Razz: Whose house?

Russ: Puns House! Let's air the match! BY GAWD~!

*the screen fades, and then fades back in on....Eric O'Mac. With a five o clock shadow and a hooded sweatshirt on, you can only see the man's teeth. It's a dark room, and the shadows are creating a very somber mood as we hear Eric's voice.*

Eric: Good evening. Tonight, by MY order, we are going to rewatch my match with Mark Vander and I'll give everyone an update on his condition. Enjoy the alternate commentary - when the day comes and I retire, I'll make sure this makes the Ultimate Eric O'Mac collection. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

*And we go into the match...

Mark Vander comes to the ring and waits in the corner while Eric O’Mac is announced. Ice-T’s “The Tower” blares across the arena and Eric comes out from the back with the rest of Revolution XXX and a bit of a crazed look in his eyes. He slowly walks to the ring, never taking his eyes off of Vander. Eric slides under the bottom ropes and immediately charges at Vander, catching him with a forearm to the back of the head. Vander slumps and Eric throws him into the corner and beats him mercilessly with rights and lefts to the face. The referee steps in and demands a break, Eric gives it, but just long enough to avoid being disqualified.

That's a vicious forearm! And look at those rights and lefts....at the beginning of the match, Mark Vander already knew he was going to wake up with limited eye sight. If it wasn't for the referee, he would have been done there.

He grabs Vander by the throat and chokes him in the corner, then pulls Vander to his feet and slams his head into the top turnbuckle. Vander takes a few swipes at Eric, but Eric is in a rage, he catches Vander with a spinning kick to the mouth that snaps his head back dangerously. Vander is dazed, so Eric throws him over the top rope to the floor, then follows him outside and slams him face first into the floor, then pulls him to his feet, scoops him up and drives him to the concrete. Eric quickly hops onto the apron and climbs the corner and hits a MAC ATTACK onto the floor! Eric gets to his feet and just stares down at Vander with a disgusted look on his face. Vander writhes in pain on the floor, coughing up blood, he could have broken ribs after that.

PICTURE PERFECT...and YES, Mark Vander had 3 broken ribs after that Mac Attack. But that's not even the worst of it.

Eric finally snaps out of it and rolls Vander back into the ring where he immediately hits a rolling senton splash that drives the wind out of Vander again. Eric registers no emotion on his face and pulls Vander to his feet again and whips him HARD into the corner, Vander slams into the corner sternum first and staggers backward, Eric connects with a super kick to the back of the head that sends him out of the ring to the floor. Vander is clearly having trouble getting his breath, and the referee may have to consider stopping this one. Eric leaves the ring and slams Vander back first into the ring post. The Amnesiac and Tyson Kincaid distract the referee and Eric rummages under the ring and comes up with his sledgehammer. Eric waits until Vander struggles to his feet, when he turns to Eric, Eric catches him with a shot right to the ribs. Vander sinks to his knees, and Eric finishes him off with a shot to the skull that sends Vander to the floor. The camera pans around and we see Vander has been busted open and is having even more trouble breathing.

Trouble breathing? the motherfucker nearly died. That was, in fact, a pierced lung.

Yes, because of Mark Vander's decision not to choose to be on MY side, he now has a sizable hole in his lung. I see that his name is on the schedule for the pay-per-view...I hope they bring him out in an ironlung because otherwise the man will die for a cause he had no interest in.

*The screen goes back to Eric after the match ends. the room is still dark, just a faint light,. We can only see Eric's mouth move, as the hood is shielding his eyes.*

I listen to some of the original commentary, and Russ made it seem like such a crime. "BAH GAWD MARK VANDER HAS A FAMILY AND ERIC O'MAC DOESN'T EVEN CARE!!

Hahuahaha. You like that one. Here's another Russ-ism for ya. "SOMEBODY STOP THE DAMN MATCH! HOW MUCH MORE BLOOD DOES HE WANT?"

Don't point your accusing finger at me. I made my threat, and I am a man of my word. I took Vander out - and The Knife is next.

You saw the beginning stages of my handiwork. That wasn't even HALf of what I had set up for Mark Vander. I had literally planned on breaking the man's neck. If it wasn't for that fucking "SUPER HERO" Concrete TG, and his loser friends, Mark Vander would be talked about in a past tense. I'd be EULOGIZING the man instead of talking about his multiple injuries.

The Knife is next. And there will be more. Until Rick starts giving a damn about his wrestlings safety and resigns, there will be another casualty at every show until the roster is all on injured reserve.

this is war.

i don't give a shit about my place on the card.

i don't give a shit about any championships other than the one around my waist, regardless of it's status in this place.

right now, there should be one and only one focus and that is the war.

and because others have taken their eyes off the prize, because others have had the audacity to actually complain about their status, to show an emotion other than being happy that they are still here in one piece...

*Eric flips his hood off in a fast motion and we look into his eyes.....And see NOTHING but white. Obviously white contacts, but scary as hell, and Eric rasps out...*

THEIR BLOOD WILL BE ON MY HANDS. RICK, BENNETT, IT DOESN'T MATTER ANYMORE! ALL THAT MATTERS NOW IS SURVIVAL...

*Zoom in. Nothing but white. Raspy voice.*

and I will personally....end the careers....of those he just don't give a shit.

and that

means

you

knife.


*Eric starts a low chuckle....which evolves into full out maniac laughter. Fade out with the image of Eric laughing wildly, burning a hole into the camera with his white eyes.*

[karmic]

SFJ9: D.H. Magnusson, you and Spin Hansen, are facing 3 other teams at Red, White & Bruised, as the result of losing a coin flip for the world tag team championship match. What's your mindset going into the PPV?

D.H. Magnusson: About what? About getting screwed out of our rematch for our titles? Or about our illustrious GM making the decision by flippin' a coin? Or maybe about the fact that we get knocked down th' card AGAIN, despite us showin' that we're the part a the ELITE in th' world's only real tag team division? Which thoughts ya want Shannon? I got 'bout a dozen of them...Not includin' the Onslaught title.

SFJ9: The Onslaught Title?

DHM: Yeah...Tonight me an' Spin...we're gonna go out there and do what we do best. We're gonna raise a little hell, kick a little ass, an' get back t'where we need t'be. But after that, I got a little unsettled business with Attitude Adjuster. If he thinks he's done with me just 'cause we're the premier team in th' OOWF...Well, that ain't deadly mistake, but it sure as hell could wind up bein' a fatal one.

DHM: But tonight...tonight we the Cannibals, Carl and Bunny, an' Blitz an' Th' Dead. For the Cannibals - wrong place, wrong time, boys. An' I'm almost sorry for what's gonna happen. Same with Carl an' Bunny...except I mean th' part 'bout bein' sorry. But Blitz an' Th' Dead? Well...me an' the walkin' chalk outline, we got some more of that unfinished business. Only he don't know 'bout it. Or at least he didn't. Now he does.

SFJ9: But I don't recall -

DHM: Don't be worryin' non about it.

Random Backstage Production Assistant: Mr. Magnusson? You've got a call in the prodution office, says they're your manager?

SFJ9: Manager? But I just saw Wally B. Kin-

DHM: WALLY AIN'T MY MANAGER! We ain't the Droogs.

SFJ9: Droogs?

DHM: Yeah...somethin' about La Bamba. Y'hafta ask him. You got you soundbyte Shannon, now get out. I got a call t'take.