[Tommy]

OOWF MidWeek Mayhem
Live! From Springfield, West Virginia

OOWF Onslaught Championship Match[/u]
Chris Cole vs. Seamus McNasty

Gods & Monsters and Stank vs. Phantos, Lucios & Davin Moreland
Firewoman & Moosehead Jack vs. Concrete TG & Tyson Kincaid
The Midnight Sons vs. The Chickenshit Heels
Fear Us vs. IHOP
The Amnesiac vs. Alexander Darling
Damon Wrath vs. Bryce Larson

Card subject to severe typos, time zone changes, sun poisoning and down-home cooking

[National Champion Chris Cole]

Chris Cole: It's about damn time that the OOWF recognized that the Onslaught Championship is worthy of the Main Event. "The Main Event" Chris Cole will live up to that name this week.

[The Canadian Content]

*Fade into the past. Skurge has just arrived in France. There is a battle raging all around him. Even drunk, Skurge knows that it likely isn’t a good idea to hang around here. As he pushes the proper numbers to get himself back to the arena, an explosion occurs nearby, causing a very short man to be trapped in the phone booth’s pull...

*The scene shifts to the palatial IHOP locker room. It is Wednesday, November 19, 2008, and it is just minutes until IHOP’s Campeonas de Trios match against Seamus McNasty, Damon Wrath and Bryce Larson. SYB and The Amnesiac are PACING~! as the phone booth appears from nowhere and Skurge steps out…

SYB: Jesus, Skurge. Where have you been? Our match is about to start.
Skurge: Sweden, I think. The Swiss are a warlike people, aren’t they?
SYB: Sounds right to me.
Amn: Who’s the short guy behind the booth?
SYB: It better not be Corbitt again. I’ve had enough of that guy.
Short Guy: Où suis-je? Qui êtes-vous les gens?
SYB: Short guy, you know I don’t speak Spanish.
Skurge: That’s not Spanish, eh? It’s French. Huh. I didn’t know they spoke French in Sweden.
SG: Pas la Suède, vous idiot. La France.
Amn: Right. Anyway, we’ve got a match to get to. Let’s go kick some ass.

*The entire IHOP contingent heads out to the ring, making sure to lock Napoleon in the palatial locker room so he can’t get into any trouble while they’re gone. After their impressive victory, IHOP returns to their palatial locker room, only to find that Napoleon has vanished! Also, it looks like someone unlocked the door and let him out…

SYB: Well, shit. Where’d the short guy go?
Skurge: I dunno, but we should probably find him, eh? If we don’t get him back to Sweden, it could change history.
Amn: What are the odds that he was important enough to change history?
Skurge: You’re probably right, but you guys should still look for him while I’m gone.
SYB: Gone? What do you mean gone?
Skurge: I mean “away.” “Not here.” “Elsewhere.”
SYB: Right, smartass. Where the hell are you going is the question.
Skurge: Ah. Well, I figure that since I’ve got this time machine–
Amn: You mean we’ve got this time machine.
Skurge: Uh, right. Of course. Anyway, since it’s here at our disposal, I was going to make a couple of quick stops and get us some celebratory drinks for our Chimpionship victory.
SYB: Oh. Well that’s awfully nice of you.
Amn: But why can’t we all go?
SYB: Shut up, The Amnesiac. He’s paying. If we all go, we might all have to chip in.
AMN: Good point.
Skurge: Right. So you guys find that short dude, and I’ll be back in a bit with some drinks.

*Skurge steps into the phone booth, and it disappears in a blinding flash of light as we…

*FADE*

[The Canadian Content]

*Fade into the time-traveling phone booth. Skurge is hurtling through time, heading toward a destination that he hopes will have suitable beverages for him to take back for IHOP’s victory celebration. The booth lands, and Skurge steps out…

*It would appear that Skurge has landed in the Wild West. Either that, or he’s in present-day Texas. The locals are all wearing cowboy hats and gun belts, chewing tobacco, and riding horses, so it could really be either. Skurge sees a sign that says “Saloon” and decides to check it out. He enters the building through a set of swinging doors and approaches the bar…

Barkeep: What kin I getcha?
Skurge: How aboot a beer, eh?
Barkeep: You ain’t from around these here parts, is ya?
Skurge: I suuure…uh…ain’t.
Barkeep: Well, you just keep to yerself, and I reckon ya won’t get inta any trouble. Here’s yer beer.
Skurge: Thanks.

*Just then, a fight breaks out at a nearby table. It would appear to be a four-on-one fight. And the one looks pretty puny. Skurge decides he doesn’t like those odds, so he goes over to help. After taking out three of the four attackers by himself, Skurge helps the smaller guy take care of the fourth…

Guy: Thanks, pardner. I reckon they would’ve hurt me pretty bad-like if you hadn’a showed up.
Skurge: Hey, no problem, eh? Glad I could help oot.
Guy (puts out his hand): I’m Billy. Billy the Kid. What can I do to repay you?
Skurge: Well, Mr. the Kid, I’m here from the future to get some beer for a party I’m throwing for my friends. We recently won the Chimpanzees on Tricycles belts back from Grodds and Magnetos and Electro, then we successfully defended them last night against Shameless McLovin, Desmond Wallach and that new guy…Bart something, I think.
BtK: …
Skurge: So, uh, if you have some beer you could spare…
BtK: …
Skurge: I mean, I don’t want to impose or anything, but I did kind of just save your ass there, chief.
BtK: …
Skurge: Fine. Could you at least point me to the closest beer store then?
BtK: …Did you say the future?
Skurge: Uh, yeah. I did.
BtK: And something about monkeys?
Skurge: Ah yes, the Chimpanzees on Tricycles belts. They’re pretty awesome.
BtK: I can get you beer, future-man, but I need something else from you.
Skurge: Name it, my friend.
BtK (pointing at the belt around Skurge’s waist): I want that.
Skurge: You want a shot at the OOWF Deputy Dog Irate Moccasin Heaving Munchkin title?
BtK: I have no idea what you just said. I’ll give you beer if you give me that fancy belt.
Skurge: Oh, I’m afraid I can’t give it to you. Last time that happened, the belt got vacated. I don’t want to see that happen again.
BtK: How do I get it then?
Skurge: Well, you have to fight me for it and pin me. And I’ve seen you fight. You can’t beat me.
BtK: You’re probably right. Why don’t you head to the bar, and I’ll grab my money to pay for the beer I promised you.
Skurge: Sounds aboot right.

*As Skurge turns toward the bar, Billy the Kid smashes a bottle over his head, sending the big man to the ground. The Kid makes the cover, and a rodeo clown appears to make the count (it’s a well-known fact that rodeo clowns were the referees of the Wild West). 1-2-Skurge KICKS OUT~! No one ever kicks out with this belt. Wow. I’m in shock here. Wait, what’s this? Skurge has applied a full nelson to Billy the Kid. The Kid’s fading…The Kid’s out! Your winner, and still OOWF DDT Iron Man Heavy Metal champion…Skurge~!

*Skurge takes some money from Billy the Kid and pays the barkeep for some beer. He leaves the bar and proceeds to the phone booth, loads the beer in and hits some buttons.

Skurge: Next stop: ancient Greece!

*FADE*

[fasteddie]

(Lola catches up to Tytan after the match for a post match rant.)

Lola: Tytan here's your chance to vent.

(Tytan punches a nearby locker and turns over a couple of chairs.)

Tytan: Damn it boys you see your days are numbered we got your number Phantos and Lucios. The time will come and believe me it will be sooner then later and take those belts from you.

I say next time let's make it a Steel Cage match where the only way you will win is to get out of the ring first.

But enough about that it's time to talk about next week. It seems we get a chance to kick your teeth in again. But now you let your DEA brother Davin get into this little battle. Big freakin deal we will kick his ass too. Plus we have an added bonus someone who is just as twisted as us and knows how to make people bleed....

STANK!

Stank, you and I never played nice. But we do have one thing in common we both hate those Run DEA punks. So come Mayhem it will be a privilege to step in the ring with a bad ass like you and treat Run DEA like the bitches they are.

(Tytan then walks off)

Fade

[Outback Frito Pendejo]

*sometime after eddie's promo, we see a still angry-looking Tytan working out his frustrations on the bench press, and then we hear a loud belch*

OBJ: Australian for it's not safe to lift that much without a spotter, mate!

*Camera pans back to show OBJ and LD Williams standing behind the bench. Tytan racks the barbell and jumps to his feet. Behind him Poe smoothly uncoils from the lotus position on a mat and Selena hops up behind him*

OBJ: Take it easy, mate. We just came here to chat.

Tytan: Alright.

LDW: We heard what you said to Lola. You plan to back it up?

Tytan: Damn straight!

LDW: Jack tells me you've got the ability, and you've been smart enough to team up with a man with an impressive reputation. You seem like an exception to the rule.

Tytan: And what rule would that be?

OBJ: The rule that we're looking to clean up the OOWF by kicking the asses of the jerks and ingrates who don't appreciate what it means to have a spot.

LDW: Which brings us to the subject of Phantos and Lucios.

Poe (looking amused): Going to give us some advice?

OBJ: No, just asking a favor.

Poe: And what might that be?

*OBJ suddenly looks very tranquil and calm. He glances at the Foster's can in his hand with a look of annoyance and sets it down carefully*

OBJ: I've admired your work for years. Do feel free to hurt them, but try not to end their careers. I so enjoy doing that.

*OBJ shudders, and grabs his beer quickly*

Selena: This guy is so bizarre!

OBJ: I promised him he could say that.

[wld]

**Fear Us leave the G&M locker room and are approached by Scheme Gene.**

SG: “Gentlemen, I understand you have something to say about your upcoming match with IHOP.”

OBJ: “Actually Gene, I have a joke for you – Two Canadians, an Australian, and a Joo get into a wrestling ring.”

SG: “-”

OBJ: “-”

SG: “And?”

OBJ: “That’s the joke.”

LDW: “It’s simple, Gene. IHOP are a far better team than most people give them credit for. They’re persistent, they’re determined, and, along with THE Amnesiac, they’re the Campeonas de Trios champions. But despite all that, one of them is hopping through time in a phone booth, and the other is SYB. If this was a drinking contest, Skurge might be a threat-”

OBJ: “Not to me.”

LDW: “But it’s not. It’s a wrestling match. As good as IHOP are, under those conditions, they cannot, and will not, beat us. Tell ’em Jack.”

OBJ: “IHOP, at Midweek Mayhem, your Debt will be Collected, the Joke will be on You, and you WILL…Fear…Us.”

[Deleted]

Seamus and [green] Gaelic Storm [/green] are sitting in thier room, smoking cigars and drinking glasses of Tullamore Dew…as Seamus sits his glass down he spills some. Connor grabs one of the hundreds of [red]ShamWow[/red] and wipes up the whiskey

Connor: “That’s alcohol abuse!”
Rory: “So I guess you’ll have a go with “Flat-back Cole” again?”
Liam: “McNasty to the rescue!”
Seamus: “Easy boys, I know we’ll tear the house down, and so does the booker.”
Rory:”The booker knows you can wrestle a broom and get’em over.”
Connor: “Hey now that’s rude and insulting”
Rory: “Oh come on, have you seen Cole work?”
Connor: “Yeah that’s why it’s insulting to the broom!”
Seamus: “Alright, enough already, Rory send Chris a couple of the Sham-wows and a note…tell him to polish my belt up real nice cause I’m coming for it…”

[Fire-Babe]

A large crash is heard coming from behind the door that says "RunDEA Suites" at the OOWF Arena. Firewoman walks up to the door, and hesitates before openning it. The sound of something else large breaking is heard, and, fearing the worst, Firewoman nearly kicks the door open to find Alexander Darling taking a sledgehammer to anything he can find.

LD: Brother dear, that's not helping anything.

AD: Actually, Lexie, I find it quite [swing] therapeutic [crash].

FW: What the hell is going on here?

AD: Get her out of there, before she becomes the next target.

FW: Target? What the fuck did I do now?

AD: Lexie...NOW!

LD: C'mon, let's go.

Alexis grabs Firewoman by the arm and pulls her out of the room and back into the hallway. As they close the door, the sound of something large and fragile hitting the door is heard. A muffled voice yells "Go ask your new partner."

FW: What in the hell--

LD: Alexander is a little tense right now, so--

FW: You call that a little? What is his problem?

LD: It's Davin, it's Samantha, it's you

FW: Me? What did I do?

LD: Seriously? Coffees with Moosehead Jack, Moose running in on your match with Crete--

FW: That's not rocket science, he hates him.

LD: You running in on his matches with Tyson...TWICE!

FW: I hate Tyson and wish to drive him from the OOWF for good. He could have been in the ring with anyone, and I would have run in.

LD: Really? Even --

FW: Sure. Why not?

LD: Somehow I don't believe you on that one. And now you have a tag team match with him as your partner.

FW: Hey, I don't make booking decisions around here. Besides, no one on this sorry excuse for a team seems to be willing to help anyone except Davin, who as best as I can tell, isn't even interested in helping himself.

LD: Alexander and I share your frustration on this--

FW: Well, stealing my gimmick of trashing locker rooms isn't going to solve it. Winning will.

LD: But we won last week. It was fantastic, and I was really excited, until Alexander started to get mad. Once again no one knows where Davin is, and the line up for next week had your match on it, so....

FW: So none of this is my problem. I'm heading to Boston to see--

LD: Wait, you're leaving? Again?

FW: Unless someone comes up with a good reason for me to stick around here. So far, the only thing looking appealing is to go back in there and kick the shit out of him for being such a drama queen, but I don't suppose you'll let me do that.

LD: Not even a little.

FW: Then I'm outta here. See you Tuesday.

Firewoman heads for the exit, and Alexis shakes her head, and then goes back into the locker room.

[The Jewish Cunthead]

*FADE IN TO A RANDOM ICE CREAM PARLOR (do they still have those?) IN WEST VIRGINIA*

<SYB, The Amnesiac, The Lovely and Talented Dorothy Mantooth, Fezzik, and their short, unnamed French friend are squeezed in a booth>

SYB: Well I appreciate you guys taking me out for my birthday but it’s not the same without Skurge. Although this gives me the opportunity to do this…

<He stands up in the booth and starts to shout>

SYB: OUT, ABOUT, FAVORITE, FLAVOR…SUCK ON THAT, EH?

<He sits down next to a visibly disgusted DM>

DM: Lower your voice. I can’t believe Skurge left me to babysit you.

The Amn: Maybe he needs a spanking.

SYB & DM: What?

The Amn <flustered>: Nothing. Uh, let’s order. <to their French guest> What are you going to have, Napoleon?

Nap: <says something in French>

SYB: Does that mean “I surrender”? Seriously, I don’t what the fuck he’s saying.

<The waitress suddenly shows up>

Waitress: Oh Joowardess, I speak French. He wants to order our world famous Ziggy Pig. The single greatest ice cream spectacle known to man.

SYB: That’s fine. We’ll have one of those.

Fezzik: Hey!

SYB: Make that two Flo, and kiss my grits. Nooch.

<The waitress leaves in a huff>

DM: I wonder where Skurge could be.

SYB: According to the script, he should be finding So-crates.

<Kayfabe throws a spoon at him from a nearby booth>

SYB: FUCKING BITCH!

The Amn: I have another question. Why aren’t we defending our Chimp belts against Ferris and some random dude?

SYB: I honestly don’t know who the fuck books this shit. It’s like the guy is blind or something.

<The group breaks into one of those “Scooby Doo let’s all look at the camera moments” before the waitress comes back with two huge bowls of ice cream. Fezzik takes one and starts shoveling in ice cream with his bare hands.>

Waitress: Behold. Behold, the Ziggy Pig. Eat the pig. Eat the pig. Ziggy ziggy ziggy zig.

<She leaves>

Nap: …

The Amn: It's ice cream. You eat it.

<Napoleon tastes it and gives an approving nod>

Napoleon: Le glace?

The Amn: Whatever, just eat it.

<They all dig in. Fezzik continues to throw handfuls of ice cream down his throat and is finished in a matter of seconds. DM takes a couple of bites and puts her spoon down. The Amnesiac takes a huge spoonful and is sidelined with a horrific ice cream headache. SYB snorts hot fudge up his monstrous beak. Napoleon works his spoon like an artist.>

SYB: Ahhhhh what a ruuuuush!

<Napoleon clinks his spoon against the empty bowl as the waitress comes back over>

Waitress: All behold, he ate the pig. Thus proving that he's a Ziggy Piggy, Ziggy Piggy, Ziggy Piggy.

<She picks up the bowl and makes pig snorting noises as she walks away. Napoleon uses his finger to pick up some remaining ice cream that was on the table. He licks his finger while the rest of IHOP looks on in disgust.>

The Amn: <rubbing his head> Now what?

SYB: Bowling?

*FADE OUT*

[Demko]

*FADE IN TO THE BOWLING ALLEY*

SYB, Fezzik and The Lovely and Talented Dorothy Mantooth, along with a short unnamed Frenchman, are all sitting around, waiting for The Amnesiac to throw his ball. He rolls a strike. Napoleon seems to be the one keeping score. He marks The Amnesiac down with a 1 instead of a strike. No one notices.

AMN: So, I've gotta take on Alexander Darling this week? I don't think I've ever been in the ring with him before.

SYB: Well, just remember that when you're fighting Darling, you're taking on the whole Darling clan and Run DEA to boot.

Fezzik: I can come with you to your match, The Amnesiac.

AMN: Yeah, I'd like that Fezzik. It'll be good to have the Brute Squad on my side.

Fezzik: I am the-

AMN: YES. YES FEZZIK. WE ALL KNOW THAT YOU'RE THE BRUTE SQUAD.

Fezzik: Oh. Anybody want-

AMN: NO, WE DON'T WANT YOUR FUCKING PEANUT!

Fezzik: Oh...

The Amnesiac raising his voice seems to catch the attention of the owner, who starts eyeing the group from the background. Napoleon grabs a ball, and steps up to the line. He goes to throw the ball, but fails to let go of it, sending him hurtling down the aisle.

Napoleon: Merde! Merde! Merde! Merde! Merde! Merde! Merde!

The Amnesiac looks over at SYB.

AMN: Dude, let's ditch this guy.

SYB: Totally. Let's go get me a birthday drink!

With that, AMN, SYB, Fezzik and TLaTDM all get up and leave without paying. The manager of the alley runs up to the lane just as Napoleon has dusted himself off and has returned to the scoring position. Napoleon looks around, and sees the IHOP gang leaving the alley. He goes to follow them. The Bowling Alley Manager stops him. Napoleon looks confused.

N: Excuse moi, monsieur.

BAM: Not so fast there, buddy.

N: Bud-dy?

BAM: You ain't paid yet.

N: Pay?

BAM: Pay.

Cut to the outside of the alley, where Napoleon is being thrown out.

BAM: I don't want to see you here anymore. Beat it.

N: Fils de a chienne. Comment osez-vous?

BAM: Beat it, bud-dy!

N: Idiot!

Napoleon starts to walk off by himself, but gets stopped by Fezzik, who has appeared to have split off from the rest of the group.

Fezzik: It's okay, French guy. I'm actually French too. I only tell people I'm from Greenland because if you tell Americans you're French, they usually spit on you. C'mon... let's go surrender something and find some snails to eat.

The two men walk off, starkly contrasted - big giant next to very short man.

*FADE TO BLACK*

[Outback Frito Pendejo]

Nov 21, 2008 15:43:04 GMT -5 Demko said:

Fezzik: It's okay, French guy. I'm actually French too. I only tell people I'm from Greenland because if you tell Americans you're French, they usually spit on you. C'mon... let's go surrender something and find some snails to eat.

OOC: Exalt to Demko and I'll owe one to Solly. I hope he won't charge me interest.

[fasteddie]

(The camera comes up on the OOWF banner in front of in stand Gods and Monsters with Selena. Lola is also present.)

Lola: Once again Mayhem is a couple of days away and you are in a battle with your rivals Phantos and Lucios. This time to make it interesting they throw Davin and Stank into the picture.

Tytan: Moreland, I was thought you were the right way for the OOWF to head. But let's just call that a rookie mistake, because now I see you for what you and your little group really are. A bunch of crying little bitches. That cheat and make up the rules as they go along for there own benifit.

(Selena laughs)

Selena: Tytan said bitches. (Looks to Poe) Was he talking about Firewoman or Alexis? Or Sammantha?

Poe: But we will blame that on you still being new the scene. But since then Tytan has gotten smarter and his eyes have been opened to the error of Run-DEAs ways. Slowly you will all begin to fall, especially since there are those that agree with us and all have the same goal.

Tytan: Eliminate you!

Poe: It starts at Mayhem when Stank and the Gods and Monsters begin to bring you a new kind of pain.

Tytan: Poe, just cut the poetics. (To the camera)We kick your asses!

Lola: Tytan, you seem a bit more wond up then usual. Care to comment on that?

Tytan: It just come down to this we are the better team then Lucios and Phantos. They have just been the luckier team. (Glancing at Selena who notices this.) Maybe it's time lady luck needs to be on our side.

Lola: Interesting comment.

Poe: Luck may not be the answer, everything just needs to line up right then those titles that they wear will finally be ours.

Tytan: But until lady luck or the stars align we will just settle on beating you down again.

(Fade)

[Ryan]

Shouting can be heard from GM the Rick’s office.

“This isn’t fair! I was main-event status- well, no I wasn’t, but I’m a former tag team champion! I was part of a stable! I can’t go back to wrestling jobbers!”

“You’ll wrestle who I freaking tell you to wrestle. I sign your paycheck. Who do you think paid for all those food deliveries to your cabin in the middle of nowhere?”

“ You only did that so I wouldn’t go public with how you refused to provide counselling for depressed wrestlers! Your flimsy career couldn’t stand up to scandal!”

“Are you insane? Professional Wrestling is built on televised scandals. Ric Flair! Stone Cold Steve Austin! Lita! If you tried to challenge me publicly I’d bury you like the midcarder that you are. If you have a problem with wrestling the “Love Machine” Billy Wayne Woodard in order to prove that you’re not completely nuts, that’s your problem. It’s not mine.”

“Oh, I’m nuts am I? I’ll tell you something, Rick. I’ll pin all the jobbers you want. I’ll beat anyone you put in that ring with me. Because I have a message, Rick. A message of doom to come. A warning about something which could destroy the OOWF. And once I start racking up victories, people will listen to me.”

“Look, I don’t care about you or your imaginary problems. All I care is that the fans are entertained by competent wrestling. Now get the hell out of my office.”

*A small hooded figure opens the door and walks out. Even though it’s totally obvious who it is, the face is obscured.*

[Jack Quinn]

<Moose is wandering through the back, and makes it through the mostly empty hall of random encounters without incident. Moose makes the mistake of turning down the Corridor of Random Interviews, and is immediately mobbed by several SFJ's, but not in that good way. Finally, SFJ13 fights them all off, dropping SFJ16 with a nice DDT, then stands up, brushes herself off and turns to Moose with a mic and asks him questions>

SFJ13: You have been really quiet for the last few weeks as your feud with Tyson Kincaid has escalated to include both Firewoman and Concrete TG. Where have you been?

MHJ: That's the million dollar question really, isn't it? Where have I been. Where have I been this weekend, where have I been this past month, where have I been since my match with Crete at Hell on Earth IV

SFJ13: Well, you have been HERE

MHJ: But I haven't been here.

SFJ13: I am not following you

MHJ: It's real simple. Since that match with Crete, I have not really been myself. I feel like I have been just sort of here. You see, while I was not responsible for the War, I was a major part of it. I had my role, I had my enemy, I had a goal. And while things didn't quite work out the way we all wanted, the war ended.

The problem is, once the war ended, DEA grabbed power, and immediately used it to attack Drink & Destroy. Now, what they did is between them. But it leaves me in an odd position. It leaves me without a clear cut side in this new war. You see, I have no problem with Drink & Destroy. I would say I respect them, but there are certain people around here that would just mock that. Which brings me to the other side, DEA.

SFJ13: You are working with Firewoman, does this mean there is a Moosehead Jack/DEA partnership?

MHJ: No, no it does not. It means Fire and I have come together to fight a common enemy. That is all. I have no problem with Fire. And despite him having his head planted firmly up his ass, I have no real problem with Davin. Phantos and Lucios, well our paths have only briefly crossed.

SFJ13: And that just leaves one person......

MHJ: And that one person is why there would never be a full DEA-Moosehead Jack alliance. It would never work, and we all know that. As for this week, Kincaid, I am getting tired of you. What I thought would be a fun game toying with you has turned into a bit of a chore, so this week......

<Just then Firewoman comes back from Survivor Series, CLEARLY not happy about what happened that night. She stops by Moose and glares at him for a moment>

FW: I am going to be in the gym training in a few minutes, you can either be there, or not, I don't give a shit. But I will tell you this, we are NOT losing this match this week.

MHJ: <looking contemplative> the rest of DEA going to be there?

FW: HOW THE FUCK SHOULD I KNOW? Half the time I don't know where they are, and right now, I don't care.

<Fire storms off leaving Moose and SFJ13>

SFJ13: Are you going to go?

MHJ: I think I might just stop by to see this. Maybe I will run into Alex.

<Moose smirks and walks off>

[The Canadian Content]

*Fade in to ancient Greece. Skurge is WALKING~! toward some columns. When he arrives, he sees a group of toga-clad men sitting in a circle. The oldest of them is in the middle of the circle, STANDING~! next to what appears to be a large bowl of sand. He closes his eyes and sticks his hand in the bowl, then pulls it back out, allowing the sand to fall through his fingers…

Old Man: I close my eyes only for a moment, and the moment’s gone. All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity. Dust in the wind. All they are is dust in the wind.
Skurge: You’re my boy, Blue!

*At Skurge’s interjection, the group turns to look at him. They clearly have no idea who he is or why he’s there…

Skurge: Uh, hey ancient dudes. My name is Skurge. I’ve come to your time looking for wine to take with me to a party. Do you have any spare wine laying around?

Group: …

*Skurge figures that the men probably don’t speak English, so he decides to philosophize in an attempt to communicate. He slowly approaches the bowl of sand, desperately trying to come up with something profound to say. As the old man had done, Skurge sticks his hand in the sand then pulls it out, allowing the sand to fall through his fingers. When he still can’t think of anything to say, he decides to take a different approach and builds a sandcastle…

Skurge: Down the street you can hear her scream "You’re a disgrace" as she slams the door in his drunken face, and now he stands outside and all the neighbours start to gossip and drool. He cries, “Oh, girl you must be mad. What happened to the sweet love you and me had?” Against the door he leans and starts a scene, and his tears fall and burn the garden green.

Group: …
Skurge: And so castles made of sand fall in the sea, eventually.
Old Man: Aha! Yes, yes!
Skurge: Really? That made sense?
Old Man: Yes!
Skurge: Great! Does that mean you’ll give me wine?
Old Man: No. You give me your belt, I give you my wine.
Skurge: You too, eh? Look, like I told Mr. the Kid, I can’t give you the belt. I can’t trade it. I can’t sell it. The only way you can get this belt is by wrestling me for it.
Old Man: Wrestle?
Skurge: Yes, wrestle.

*The old man gets a gleam in his eye, and before Skurge can react, the old man has stripped naked and tackled him…

Skurge: Get the fuck off me, you crazy naked fuck!
Old Man: But we wrestle.
Skurge: Fucking Greeks! This is not wrestling. There’s no nudity in wrestling. Well, not during matches, anyway.
Old Man (getting up and dressing): Not wrestling?
Skurge: Not wrestling. And you forfeited the match, by the way.
Old Man: Forfeit? Why?
Skurge: For creeping me the fuck oot.

*The old man turns and speaks to an epic poet (epic poets being the referees of ancient Greece)…

Old Man: Homer, can we get a ruling here?
Homer: Sorry, Socrates, but the large stranger is right. It’s right here in the rule scroll. You can forfeit a match by creeping yout opponent the fuck out.
Skurge: Wait, did he just call you So-crates?
So-crates (pouting): No, he called me Socrates.
Skurge: Awesome. I just beat one of the most famous philosophers in history. Solly’s gonna be totally jealous – especially aboot the naked part. Okay So-crates, can I have some wine now?
So-crates: Whatever makes you leave. I had a perfect record until today, you know.

*Skurge and So-crates load some casks of wine into the phone booth. Skurge then pushes some buttons, and the last thing he sees before the phone booth disappears in a blinding flash is So-crates making a decidedly less than friendly hand gesture at him.

*FADE*

[Jack Quinn]

just so you know, you, The Amnesiac and Solly are all getting exalts for this

[Demko]

Nov 24, 2008 16:21:31 GMT -5 Jack Quinn said:

just so you know, you and Solly are both getting exalts for this

*OOC* Why does everyone forget about The Amnesiac?!

[The Jewish Cunthead]

Nov 24, 2008 17:20:51 GMT -5 Demko said:

Nov 24, 2008 16:21:31 GMT -5 Jack Quinn said:

just so you know, you and Solly are both getting exalts for this

*OOC* Why does everyone forget about The Amnesiac?!

Aboot. And I didn't, sir.

[DevSop]

*Just outside GMtR's office*

Alexis Darling and Olympic Gold Medalist Shawn Johnson are waiting patiently for a change just outside Rick's door. After a few seconds Erlana opens the door and calls them in.

GMtR: Well I'm glad you've learned not to go barging into other people's offices.

Alexis: And I'm glad to see you're still such a fucking pathetic excuse for a general manager.

GMtR: It's always a pleasure Lexie, what can I do for ya today?

Alexis: Well, I completely understand that you're a moron, but I thought I made it clear that I wanted to be utilized in the ring and that I had a specific goal in mind.

GMtR: There was nothing I can do this week Alexis. We looked around, but after what you and your brother or you and Firewoman have done in recent weeks, no one was willing to step into the ring this week. And about the goal, you have you still havent told me how you plan to accomplish that with only 2 names on the contract if I decide to authorize it.

Alexis: First of all, don't fucking worry who or how I plan to accomplish it. You just give me the opportunity we deserve. And secondly, it's not like the current champs are working with 3 members.

GMtR: What are you talking about? IHOP and The Amnesiac are the current champs.

OGMSJ: IHOP and who?

Alexis: I have no idea and it truly doesn't matter. Rick, I put my neck on the line for you this summer and now you're trying to act like it's a new playing field. Well fuck that and fuck you.

GMtR: Haven't you ever heard of the saying you catch more flies with honey? Keep threatening me Ms. Darling and you won't like what happens.

Alexis: Keep me off the PPV and what I've done to former members of Run DEA and especially what I did to Bennett will seem like roses and daisies compared to what I do to you.

GMtR: I'll see what I can do. Is there anything else?

OGMSJ: Yea, why doesn't the greatest wrestler you've had around here in the past year not have a match at Mayhem?

GMtR: I thought we just went over this. No one wanted to wrestle Alexis.

Alexis: I believe she was talking about brother dear. You know, the 3-time IC champ. The next Onslaught champ. Alexander Darling. Remember him? He was one of the key guys in bringing you back to power, you ungrateful prick.

OGMSJ: Exactly, he was so close to taking the title last week and he would surely beat that pathetic Cole if he had one more chance, and now he's got nothing to do.

GMtR: Oh my fucking lord, he's wrestling THE AMNESIAC.

Alexis & OGMSJ: Who?

*fade*

[Tommy]

*Davin Moreland is SITTING~! in the Common Room area of the run DEA Locker Room and Suites, presented by Aquafina and Starwood Hotels. He's actually by himself, sipping on some Dunkin' Donuts Coffee watching OOWF-TV. Alexander Darling, Alexis Darling and OMG...I mean...OGM Shawn Johnson have just arrived.*

DM: Best wrestler of the last year?

AD: You looked at yourself lately?

DM: I have. Alexis. I need to call an Executive Partners Meeting.

LD: Right this fucking second?

DM: Yes RIGHT THIS FUCKING SECOND.

LD: Prick.

*Davin walks over to his suite and bangs the shit out of the door*

DM: Get out here, Samantha.

*Samantha stumbles out, half-dressed, looking very disheveled. For a change, Davin is not disheveled*

SD: Oh...what the fuck, honey?

DM: Meeting time.

SD: What meeting?

DM: Executive Partners meeting.

SD: I'm not an executive partner.

DM: No, but you're a big topic in the meeting, so let's go.

SD: Since when the fuck do you tell me what to do?

DM: Since now. Lexie?

SD: Oh NO. FUCK this bitch. I am NOT going into a meeting with her.

LD: Fine, go pop some more pills. Can we get this over with?

SD: FUCK you.

DM: Enough. Let's go.

*The three go into Alexis' Suite, and immediately, there are raised voices. Alexander has a bemused look on his face while sucking on an Aquafina. Phantos and Lucios both find their way out to the Common Area, and look over at Alexander, who smiles. P&L look at the door, realize the situation, and BOUNCE right on out of there. Samantha is screaming at Alexis, Alexis is screaming at Samantha, and Davin is screaming at both of them. OMG...OGM Shawn Johnson makes her way out to Alexander and uncomfortably snuggles against him. Suddenly, the voices get quieter; and eventually a teary-eyed Samantha comes out of the room, but not without reassuring pats on the shoulder by Alexis and Davin. The door closes again, and in short order, normal speaking voices turn back to loud yelling; and then even LOUDER yelling before there's complete silence. Not just quiet talking, but silence. And more silence. It's now an uncomfortably long silence, and Alexander has no choice but to check on the two, but as soon as he comes to the door, the door flies open and Davin and Alexis walk out together. Something is a little....weird, but they seem relatively happy*

AD: Well?

OMGSJ: Well?

DM: Well, a couple of things. As far as the company is concerned; we're going to revisit our endorsements in the next week or two. Hell, with the general economy the way it is; they might all want to bounce. I think it's time we all went back to what made us great.

LD: And?

DM: And WHAT? I told you I'm not doing that.

LD: He's sorry.

DM: Fuck YOU I'm sorry. I'm the World Champion. I don't HAVE to be sorry.

LD: You're right. Although it would be nice.

DM: Lexie, we talked about this...

LD: Fine. Brother Dear? What do you say about joining Davin, Me, Phantos and Lucios in a little sparring session?

AD: Sounds interesting.

DM: That many champions in one ring? The possibilities are limitless.

LD: They are.

DM: You guys go on ahead. I'll be in in a second.

*Everyone leaves, even OMGSJ*

DM: Poe, your mouth is running; but again, like usual, the words leaking out of it are empty and meaningless. You've resigned yourself to this second-rate team of yours with your creepy jailbait glued to your hip; and you expect anyone to take you seriously this week?

DM: Here's the fact, PedoPoe - the one you need to concern yourself with that is. When you step into the ring with Drago and FatBoy; you'll be there with the Current OOWF World and Tag Team Champions. I Personally would love to snap your neck along with FatBoy, and I'm sure my brothers would love to do the same to Drago - so make sure your Life Insurance is paid up, Kidtoucher. Because I AM Davin Moreland; I am YOUR World Champion; and I won't leave that ring until I get my pound of flesh.

DM: Champ's gotta eat.

*he leaves. fade*

[BC]

Gods & Monsters are in their dressing room and just saw Davin Moreland’s statements.

T: Dude, you gonna let him say that stuff about you?

Poe: His words are meaningless to me. I’ve heard them all before.

SG: he called you a pedofillie…or whatever.

T: Pedophile Selena, pedophile.

SG: Yeah, okay, I don’t know what that is either.

Poe: He would be correct if we were having relations my dear.

SG: Whoa, we’re not related!

Tytan rolls his eyes.

T: He thinks because he’s World Champ that the entire OOWF will bow to his feet in fear.

Poe: He is sadly mistaken then. He and I went to war a few months back. He beat me, I beat him. He is roughly equal to me, but the bookers like him so he has the big gold belt.

SG: And a drinking problem!

Poe: The bookers have nothing to do with that.

Kayfabe bursts through the door, startling Selena.

SG: Oh God, go away, no one cares!

Tytan points to the camera.

T: You gonna respond?

Poe: No, it is meaningless. We have said all we need to say to each other in the past. We will meet in the ring Wednesday. And there will likely be blood.

SG: Oh, pretty!

[Fire-Babe]

Firewoman is... well, she appears to be in the practice ring destroying some local jobber. A brave SFJ420 makes her way into the ring with a Ninja Cam when Firewoman has given the poor unfortunate sparring partner a break, to clean up the blood.

FW: What do you want?

SFJ420: Um, I thought ... well, rumor had it all of Run-DEA would be here?

FW: Really? News to me.

SFJ420: Oh yes, you just got back from Survivor Series. I thought you weren't going to do that anymore.

FW: Yeah, well, the last thing I said to Lexie was that if someone could give me a reason to stick around, I would. No one was begging me to stick around, so I decided to go somewhere where I was appreciated.

SFJ420: Oh, I think the captain appreciates you.

FW: [Smiling a bit] Yes, well, he's got his hands full with the rest of the team. So, I'm back and focusing on winning my match this week, and at least doing my part to put this team on a winning streak.

SFJ420: Yes...well, you are teaming with Moosehead Jack, who has never been even close to an ally with anyone on your team.

FW: Strictly a means to an end. The term one night only is overused in wrestling, but it applies here. When I left SWA, to come here, I was glad to put Tyson Kincaid behind me. And then the fucker followed me here.

SFJ420: Oh yeah, the concussion.

FW: That was just the icing on the cake. Look, over here, I have been reviewing some tapes from our days at SWA, preparing for our match.

Firewoman leads the ninja cam over to a TV/VCR set up, and hits play. The screen flickers, and it's a training session with Lance Storm officiating and Firewoman and Tyson working on some things. Tyson is moving more slowly than we are accustomed, and sends Firewoman head first, rather than shoulder first, into the ring post.

FW: Nice, huh? Wasn't quite a concussion, but I had a nice bruise for a couple of days, and Lance made me take the week off, so I missed out on all that. Here's another one.

Firewoman removes that tape, and tosses it into a pile in the corner of the mat. She puts another tape in and it's a similar set up, except this time, Tyson is out of position while Fire is midair. She lands awkwardly, and her ankle bends in a direction it probably shouldn't.

FW: Nice, huh? And then there's this nugget....

Again, Firewoman takes the tape out and tosses it onto the pile, and puts another one in. This time, they are practicing kicks, and Tyson, again clearly moving more slowly for some reason, misjudges Firewoman's location in the ring, and REALLY nails her. A gash opens above her eye, and blood starts pouring down her face. She stops that video, just as it shows Lance stepping between the two, and holding Fire back. She takes it out and throws it on the pile.

FW: Tyson has a history of hurting people in the ring. [She picks up a piece of rebar that was propped against the ring post, near the video set up.] And that? That is one thing that will never EVER sparkle with me. [She reaches in her gym bag and pulls out a crumpled up picture from a Japanese newspaper, showing her landing a very stiff punch on someone, who is clearly unconscious before he hits the mat. Astute OOWF watchers will recall seeing that photo before.]

FW: This? THIS is what I do to people who have no business in the ring. [she crumples it up and throws it in the bag]

SFJ420: Isn't that Davin's rebar?

FW: Davin has been too 'preoccupied' to notice much lately.

SFJ420: So....you hurt people who hurt people?

FW: No, you fucking ditz. I defend myself. If someone can't keep from hurting their own partner in a match? I defend myself. [She punctuates this by swinging the rebar straight down into the pile of video tapes. SFJ jumps. The local jobber, powders out of the ring and heads in a hurry to the locker room.]

FW: Someone who can't manage to sober up enough to even practice moves? Doesn't deserve to be in the ring. [Again, the rebar smashes into the video tapes]

FW: Fuckers who think they know what they're doing, and then get in the ring [smash] are a danger to everyone around them [smash].

SFJ420: Are you still talking about Tyson?

FW: Tyson and any one else who thinks this is a game, that you can just party all the fucking time, go find yourself, and step into the ring expect to perform with any type of competence. [smash smash smash]

SFJ420: I think we better go....

FW: Yes, go. See if you can find my opponent. Finding himself in Jamaica. Whatever. Finding himself some blow, or some ganja, or maybe just some rum [smash smash]

FW: Tyson, you have no business in the ring. You are dangerous, and not in the good way. Lance protected you, but Lance isn't here now. So it's you or me. And I have no intention of giving up until you leave OOWF for good. Standing or on a stretcher, makes no difference to me.

She swings the rebar around and smashes the television screen and VCR over and over, until she appears to finally have worn out her anger. She reaches into her bag again, and pulls out a flask. She opens it and pours the contents onto the remains of the video tapes.

FW: Oh, and Tyson? Get your own catch phrase.

Firewoman takes out a pack of cigarrettes, and removes two. She lights them both with her trusty Zippo lighter, and tosses one onto the pile of tapes. It bursts into flames. Firewoman jumps down off the ring apron, and walks calmly out of the training area. SFJ420 summons the janitorial staff, who eventually put the fire out before it spreads too far.

[DevSop]

*Run DEA Media Center sponsored by Sony*

The room is very dark except for the flickering of a few candles. The television flickers on and on the screen are the words Eric O’Mac. The name starts spinning in the background as images of Eric’s career flash by. Slowly the images stop and the name comes back into focus, but this time it’s on a tombstone which reads,

Here Lies Eric “O’Mac” McMahon.

8/26/04 to 11/19/08

”What could have been”

Slowly Alexander Darling walks up in front of the television to a little podium that was strategically placed. He’s dressed in a very dark black Armani suit and then slowly the camera pans the room and we see Olympic Gold Medalist Shawn Johnson in a short black dress accessorized perfectly with a hanging gold medal around her neck. Standing next to her and trying not to roll her eyes in a short black and purple dress is Alexis Darling. Alexander slowly taps the microphone and clears his throat…

Friends, competitors, wrestlers, lend me your ears:
I am here to bury Eric, not to praise him.
The evil that he showed lives after him;
The good was shown by the conviction in his bones;
So let it be with Eric. The noble champion Davin
Could tell you that Eric was ambitious,
But if he was, it was to a fault.
(Here, under leave of Rick and the rest –
For Davin is an honorable man;
So are they all, the OOWF is full of honorable men)—
I come to speak at Eric’s funeral.
He was my friend, once, faithful and just:
But Davin said he was too ambitious;
And Davin is an honorable man.
Eric brought many victims to the OOWF,
Whose blood was spilled and filled pints:
Did Eric seem ambitious in this?
When the new arrived, Eric mentored them.
Ambition should be of sterner stuff:
Yet Davin has called him ambitious;
And Davin is an honorable man.
You all saw at Imperial Onslaught
I took him to the limit and gave him an opportunity,
Which he refused: is this a sign of ambition?
Yet Davin called him ambitious;
And Davin is an honorable man.
I say this not to disagree with Davin,
But I will speak of what I know.
Some of you have loved Eric, and not without cause:
Why then does no one mourn for him?
Judgment! No one should judge Eric for what he has done,
But maybe I have lost my focus! Bear with me;
My would be friend is in that coffin and his name is Eric,
I must pause until this feeling passes.

Slowly Alexander’s head bows down and he seems to be taking a moment of silence when the back door opens and light starts to filter in. Davin and Lucios are standing at the door looking really confused as to what’s going on. Lucios just shakes his head and walks out. Davin leans over towards Alexis, and taps her on the shoulder.

Davin: What the hell is going on in here?

OGMSJ: Shhhhh. This is beautiful.

Alexis: It’s a funeral for Eric’s career I think.

Davin: What the fuck Lexie? Eric’s not gone…we both know it.

Alexis: Probably not, but…I wasn’t gonna say no to him after the few weeks we’ve had around here. I think this is more for him.

Davin: Whatever, just don’t let it fucking interfere with anything. Find me when you’re done in here. I have to look at tape with Luc.

Alexis: Sniff, sure thing Dav.

Davin: Wait, are you…

Alexis: NO…the smell of the candles is getting to me.

Davin just chuckles as he turns around and walks out of the Run DEA Media Center sponsored by Sony.

Meanwhile, Alexander has turned towards the television as images of Eric and his two encounters are playing; the original match between the two that got Match-of-the-Year mentions and then images of their battle during the finals of Imperial Onslaught. He clears his throat once again,

Eric, we were the best of friends when I first showed up here. We played the game better than anyone and we both had goals in mind. The plan was to help each other achieve those goals. And for a while it was working perfectly; you became Onslaught Champion once again and I was making a name for myself. We had this company ready to be taken over by DEA, but you had other plans in store. And you kept those to yourself. Our partnership failed and our friendship never recovered…

I look back and I thank fucking god for that because Eric, you were nothing but an anchor. You weighed me down from the start and I should have realized you did me a favor by aligning against me during the war. You never had the same focus again and because of that you’re now gone. And gone by my hand. There was a time when I envisioned you as the champion of this company. What a fucking mistake that was. You had the potential for so much more and you wasted it. It was my duty to finish you.

Things could have been different Eric. It’s your own fault it came to this. And if you’re smart, you’ll stay dead and buried. If you come back, you know what; just don’t come back. Because if you do, you’ll remember why I am Alexander Darling and you’ll remember exactly what it means when I say I am Run DEA.

BOOYAH, BITCH!!!

[Outback Frito Pendejo]

*Fear Us are in their locker room, watching OOWF TV*

LD: After we get rid of IHOP, we'll have work to do.

OBJ: Damn straight, mate.

LDW: Any chance we have to worry about IHOP?

OBJ: Well, they do have Fezzik. I heard he was on the Brute Squad.

*Fezzik crashes through the door*

Fezzik: I am the Brute Squad!

*A large finger taps Fezzik on the shoulder*

Fezzik: She's behind me, isn't she?

LDW: Fraid so.

Fezzik: I really meant to call you. I just got so busy and...

*A large hand wraps around Fezzik's throat and drags him away*

OBJ: I really don't know what to say.

LDW: Let's just let it go.