THE BIGGEST BRAWL OF THEM ALL!

(The two pyro guys finally bring out the big guns: M-320s. A laser show as well! It's SUPERCARD III, we're blowing all our budget money on this puppy.)
THIS IS THE ONE YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! IT'S SUPERCARD III, AND BOY ARE WE READY! I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden. With me as always are two people who will be competing...AGAINST EACH OTHER... TONIGHT! Captain Twilight, Jamal Tupac Mustafa, welcome.
Pleasure as always, Vince.
'Sup, V. Can you feel the electricity?
I can indeed. But I think the electricity YOU'RE feeling is from the wire that you're standing on. Let's kick things off with the cheap matches that nobody would really care about. And what better way THAT would be...than the FOUR-WAY JOBBER DANCE!
OddJobber, the Red Snapper, Hammond Egger and JJJ Forbes are all in the ring. We must have a winner!
***bell rings.
Hammond Egger and OddJobber locking up. JJJ and the Red Snapper really going at it. OddJobber pulls the amazing moves out of his hat. The Asai Moonsault on Hammond Egger - the crowd goes wild! The cover: 1...2...3 and three men remain. JJJ Forbes really giving Snapper a beating. Snapper remember did retire a wrestler at one point. JJJ with the DDT and the Jobber Time chop...1...2...3! OddJobber vs. JJJ to end this. ONLY ONE CAN WIN!
Yes, we get the point already!
Some pointless crap happens for two more minutes, and JJJ with the roll-up...1...2...3! Finally, it's over.
Here is your winner, TRIPLE-J FORBES!
Next up...The Vegas Connection vs. the FoJ! A while ago, this would have been a main event card. I guess guys like the Circus Freaks and the Indestructibles have stopped that for good. But I still like these teams.
They legends, V, and they ain't in it fo' the gold. The Vegas peeps in it fo' the money. The FoJ in it fo' God knows whut.
Both teams in the ring, the entire Industry at ringside.
***bell rings.
Well, since we have REAL good matches to deal with, we're going to do some results until certain things matter. Alright?
Alright.
A'ight.
(From a box at the announcer's booth)Solright.
What the hell? Señor Wences isn't scheduled to be here. Anyway, here's the result: The Forces of Justice defeated the Vegas Connection despite interference from Gruff and "Black" Jack Dealer. The FoJ took a serious beating, and Lester Leary even applied the Paisley Powerbomb to Judge, but Larry Lowbrow got slapped in the deadly "Deathwish" - the Boston Crab/Camel Clutch combo - for the win.

Next on the agenda...Presto Cadabra takes on BILL. Presto hasn't been too active as of late.
Not that there's anything wrong with that. Besides, while the whole Industry is here, we might as well get their matches out of the way first.
Good point. Well, as it happened, BILL tried his darnedest but came up short. Presto gave him a football tackle and put him into the "saw you in half" torture rack for the win.
The Tiger cain't be too happy that Presto is takin' his move.
But Presto had it first!
I calls 'em like I sees 'em.
"Black" Jack Dealer vs. Colonel "Pops" Khorne. Second loss of the night for the Entertainment Industry as Col. Khorne just outclassed Dealer in all respects. Khorne is a hot commodity right now. The Rogue must be really pleased! The Jiffyneckpop does in the Native Canadian casino worker, but received a razorcard slashing for his efforts, and a brawl ensued between the Gallery and the Industry. Genuine heat seems to be erupting from these two.

Rimshot vs. No Legs: In one of our strangely anticipated matches, Rimshot DEFEATED No Legs in an eight-minute battle. How two amputees could last on arms and torsos alone is beyond me. While No Legs has more developed arms from wheelboard pushing (as opposed to Rimshot's mechanized wheelchair), Rimshot has much more wrestling knowhow. A sleeperhold took down No Legs for the submission victory. Rimshot was then attacked by Johan the Amish Gangsta, Whitey the Man, and Busta Wayans, before security came to take them away. No word if they'll get to be at PotY's side tonight, or held in custody.
Go Rimshot! Now THERE'S a horse y'all can bet on.
Have you been hanging around the Aboriginals again?
Does it show that much?

In other matches, quickly:
Ben Matera defeated Distruct in 10:14 after an amazing thumblock submission. We've never seen anything like it!

The Keeper wins the handicap match for his team after giving Très Sheik the Darkness at 9:35. Afterwards, the Rogue was seen yelling at Très Sheik. Can you smell the setup?

Tyrone Mayhem nailed the Smackdown on Julio, then handed off to Buzz Redwood, for his "Timberrr" elevator slide for the 1-2-3. An unlikely pairing though it was, Tyrone Mayhem and Buzz Redwood really got it together, for a win in a fair 12:32.

And now, let's start picking up the pace. The battle of the announcers is on!
Making his way to the ring, weighing 223 lbs., from Miami, FL (home of ancient guys everywhere), CAPTAIN TWILIGHT!
("Mighty Mouse" remixed with the Twilight Zone theme plays. Captain Twilight gets a good pop, but really isn't wearing his superhero tights too well. His cape has a small hole in it from moths.)
And his opponent, from Brooklyn, New York, weighing 249 lbs., JAMAL TUPAC MUSTAFA!
("Raise the Roof" by Luke plays. Less pop, some boos.)
***bell rings.
Interesting point to note here: both men were at one point associated with the Rogue's Gallery. Neither are now, but ANYTHING CAN HA...never mind. Captain Twilight with an armlock. Cap switches it to a top-wristlock. Jamal gets out and bounces off the ropes, big body press. Cap drops. 1...2...shoulder up. Captain Twilight now with a cobra twist. He really remembers his stuff! Jamal reaches the ropes. Jamal with a spinning heel kick, Captain takes it square on. The cover: 1...2...no. Captain Twilight whips Jamal Tupac Mustafa to the buckle...Twilight leaps forward with a double punch to the midsection! That's his old finisher: the "Superhero Sail Punch" - no one has ever been able to duplicate it, and for that, the Captain is a true legend. Jamal gasping for air. Captain Twilight with a sidewalk slam of all things! Hooks the leg, the cover: 1...2...3! The Superhero Sail Punch is as effective as ever.
Here is your winner, CAPTAIN TWILIGHT!
And the fans really cheering him. Mind you, that was an abridged version. Full versions are hard to come by here because, after all, we do have twenty-seven matches tonight.
Yes, but we've already covered twelve of them. (Wheezing and gasping) Yeh...GASP...I want a rematch...GASP...old man.
Get over it. You lost fair and square. You couldn't beat StreetMime.
Neither....GASP...could the Executioner...GASP...so I'm in good comp'ny.
True enough. Up next, T-Ray will take on Zebulon of the Asylum Alliance.
This contest is set for one fall. Making his way first, accompanied by Mongoose, (I suppose that's his name), from Charleston, WV, representing the Asylum Alliance, weighing 290 lbs., here is ZEBULON!
("Working in a Coal Mine" plays. He enters with his pickaxe, to mixed reaction.)
And his opponent, from Beavertrail, Georgia, weighing 400 lbs., he is...T-RAY!
("Truckin'" plays. T-Ray enters, to much smaller pop.)
***bell rings.
This smells like a cakewalk for Zebulon.
I dunno...GASP...T-Ray cain't be...GASP...overlooked.
Are you still selling my Sail Punch? I'm better than I thought. I hope you realize you'll never live this down.
Whateva...GASP.
If you two are done? Zebulon with an atomic drop! Zebulon with the closed fists to the midsection now, the ref is warning the coal miner. Zeb takes T-Ray to the buckle, a head of steam, but T-Ray lifts the big boot, and it looks like the trucker is in control. Headlock by T-Ray, and now follows it through with a nice bulldog!
Nice move. Jamal, maybe you can learn something if you pay attention to all these matches.
Shut up...GASP...we ain't done, you`n'I...GASP.
The cover: 1...2...Zeb turns it over...1...2...kickout. Zeb with a European uppercut! Wow. He's setting up for the Strip Mine, and there it is! Zebulon covers, grabs T-Ray's jeans for extra leverage, 1...2...and this is done nice and quick.
Here is your winner, ZEBULON!
Will wonders never cease in the STWF. Zebulon beats a guy that we've only heard from in the debut. It happens. I believe next on the agenda, newcomers Nik at Nyte will be facing Johnny "Irish" Berkowski, and his manager Chubby, the Polish Leprechaun.
Now, y'see if I was Chubby...GASP...I would have gone the "Irish Policeman" angle...GASP...now that's a good stereptype...GASP...I think that's what Ken Shamrock should do...GASP.
That's it. I'm crossing the Aboriginals off my Christmas list. They're a bad influence on you.
Captain, you had the Aboriginals on your Christmas list? I didn't get anything from you last year. What gives?
I choose not to talk about it. Or maybe it's because I was a Rogue's Gallery guy back then.
I think your timeline is a little skewed. Let's go to the match!
...ring, with a combined weight of 715 lbs., here are Johnny "Irish" Berkowski, and Chubby the Polish Leprechaun!
("Jump Around" squeals over the PA. They run to the ring. Decent pop.)
And their opponents, from TV Land, weighing a combined 520 lbs., here are Rodney Ricardo and Darren #3, NIK AT NYTE!
(The re-mixed "You're Gonna Make It After All" booms out as they enter, waving their hands at nobody in particular.)
***bell rings. Hey, V, did you notice those guys in the front row by ringside? They all look kinda familiar.
I have to agree. I even recognize some of them - there's Barbara Eden, Werner Klemperer, Herve Villechaize...
Hey, an' there's Gabe Kaplan, an' Howard McNear, an' Jackie Coogan...I thought he was dead.
HEY! There's a match going on here! Rodney Ricardo lays a kneelift on Chubby. Chubby now with a belly-to-belly. Is that Ken Osmond? And Dave Madden? And that's Ann B. Davis.
It is kind of addictive, isn't it? But I'm sorry. We really should get to the match. Darren #3 laying a serious beating on Johnny "Irish", but wait, a Polish-Irish-American DDT sends Darren #3 crumbling. Wow! Linda Lavin! And Russell Johnson! I remember him!
And there's the REAL baddest man on the planet, TODD BRIDGES! You notice though, how they all look kinda emotionless or stoned, or sumpin'? They's just ain't right.
Well, that's all of them, so can we PLEASE get to the match?! Darren #3 with a fisherman's suplex! I didn't know he had it in him! And he tops it off with a nice legdrop. He picks him up, it looks like we'll get to see the "Why, God, Me?"!
Here comes Todd Bridges over the railing. He's hammering away at Rodney Ricardo. Darren wants to help but can't! He applies the move anyway. And DOOOWN Johnny goes.
The cover: 1...2...Chubby makes the save. Darren #3 tosses the fat leprechaun out of the ring. He tries again: 1...2...3! Nik at Nyte pull this one off nicely.
Here are your winners, NIK AT NYTE!
Well, looks like Nik at Nyte aren't finished with those...um...quick, Captain Twilight, name the group of actors.
A name...um...the Ratings Flock?
Good, that'll do. Darren #3 is yelling at them, I don't know what past they have. Russell Johnson nails Darren with a coconut! Darren is in la-la land.
That in the vicinity of TV Land?
The Ratings Flock is laughing at the pair. Rodney Ricardo is dragging his considerably heavier, and unconscious, partner up the ramp. Will we see more hijinks from the Ratings Flock? I sure hope not. Our next match features a four-and-a-half-man, one-woman tag. Mexico Unlimited reps take on Kandi, Stealth Bomber and DOOM.
...and their opponents, from Mexico City, accompanied by El Presidente, here are El Spheros, Cube and PEPE THE MEXICAN MIDGET!
("Mexican Hat Dance". Pepe sets up the ramp. Cube enters in the large black cube. El Spheros, the physical sphere, is right next to him.)
Is it just me, or is that sight pretty chillin'...those big shapes lumbering to da ring? Kinda surreal lookin'.
An intimidating vision indeed.
***bell rings.
Cube and Stealth Bomber to start things off. Former allies, now fighting each other. Stealth Bomber with a back brain kick! Picks him up...German suplex by Bomber. Cube gets up. Drop toehold by Cube. Cube moves in for the Camel Clutch...is he trying for the Cubism already? He's reaching back...Stealth Bomber gets out. Bow-and-arrow submission by Stealth Bomber. Bomber is trying to get Cube's back to arch...it's not happening...Bomber breaks the hold in frustration. Cube tosses Bomber outside the ring...he bounces himself off the ropes, PLANCHA! Both men roll into the ring. Cube tags Pepe. Pepe with an enzuigiri kick on Bomber. And a BIG hurricanrana! How does this midget do it?!
Steroids?
None of our athletes use drugs, Jamal...Well, performance-ENHANCING drugs anyway, considering the Aboriginals. Stealth Bomber tags in Kandi to dispense of the pesky midget. Kandi attempts a martial-arts kick, but Pepe dodges it easily. Kandi doesn't seem to know how to approach fighting the midget. Pepe jumps on Kandi and tries a sleeperhold! Kandi's eyelids are drooping...
She's not selling that too well. Everyone knows that sleeperholds are supposed to cut off circulation, not induce drowsiness!
SHUT UP! You'd think...oh, never mind. Kandi's arm is being raised, once...nope, it stays up. Kandi gives Pepe a POWERBOMB! No! It's not possible! Where else but in the STWF can someone like Kandi apply a powerbomb?!
Um, Vince?
I've never seen such a display ever, and I know nobody else has!
Um, V?
Forget it, he's oblivious.
The cover: 1...2...Pepe just barely gets a shoulder up. Pepe tags in the big sphere, and Kandi wisely gets out to tag DOOM, before this really becomes a bloodbath. El Spheros and Doom have met before, when Doom won the STWF heavyweight championship in an inter-fed contest. El Spheros gains the upper hand with a clothesline. And a big cannonball back-splash.
That's not the "Super Super Spheros Spinning Splash" he's famous for, but it was effective nonetheless.
Hey Cap, what's up with these Mexicans usin' the word "Super" twice?
I believe it's simply because "super" is one of the few words that are the same in Spanish and English.
Enough of this foolish talk. Doom with a DDT on the sphere. Doom goes to the middle rope for a splash, but El Spheros raised his knees. El Presidente is giving some kind of signal...I wonder what he has planned? El Spheros bounces off the ropes...oh no! He bumps into the ref! Hard. The ref is out cold.
And if you don't know who the STWF's backup ref is, you'll know it's not pretty.
Raoul Ramon Ramirez, the referee biased towards Mexico Unlimited, makes his way to the ring, and things look that much bleaker for the Paranoia group. El Spheros chops Doom. Doom drops. El Spheros puts a hand on him. Triple-R counts really fast: 123. This one is over, but Paranoia can't be too happy.
Here are your winners, El Spheros, Cube and PEPE THE MEXICAN MIDGET!
El Presidente is laughing his head off! They can hear the "juar juar"s from the upper balcony. But they beat a hasty retreat to avoid any injury.
And o'course, 'cause Raoul Ramon Ramirez is the ref now, the rules'll get nice `n' slack. He hardly eva calls DQs, unless he doesn't like the guy.
The next match is about to get underway: the Bad Asses take on the Warrior Gods.
Oh, THIS'LL be a winner of a match. Will anyone care, there's my question right there.<
Yeah, V, why didn't this match get recapped in with the boring ones?
You want this one to be recapped? Fine. The B.A.s win with the Bad Asscutter at 15:59. The Warrior Gods put up virtually no fight, as their contract expires after tonight.
Okay then. Was that so hard? Let's get to something more interesting, like Pedro Chang vs. ThatGuy. ThatGuy always seems to get the crowd going.
This contest is set for one fall. Currently in the ring, weighing 235 lbs. and from south central Los Angeles, "THE CHINESE SPIC" PEDRO CHANG!
And his opponent, from Parts Unknown, weighing 266 1/2 pounds, representing the Asylum Alliance...ThatGuy!
(A man with a paper bag over his head brings ThatGuy to the ring in a wheelbarrow. He dumps ThatGuy at the ring floor and runs off.)
ThatGuy: Hi! Well, it's Supercard and all, so I want to bring some of my friends to ringside. I met 'em all on the subway, you might know some of them! Here comes the old preacher lady.
(She enters) ...and you dirty, slimy, slut, you should repent, I say, for the...
ThatGuy: That's just great. And here's the giggling man with the bucket on his head!
Giggling Man: Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee.
ThatGuy: The drunken teenager...
DT: Whoa man, like, what time is it? Hey look, it's 8:20. F%@#, that's hilarious.
ThatGuy: And who could forget, the conspiracy theorist!
CT: It's all around you, people! Open your eyes! Can't you see?! Don't you read Marx...DON'T YOU READ MARX!!!
ThatGuy: He's great. Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Enough frivolity. Let's get to the match! Pedro Chang? YOU'RE NOT SAFE!!!
***bell rings.
The chants of "You're Not Safe!" echo throughout the arena. ThatGuy with a chop...the crowd loves it! ThatGuy sends Pedro Chang to the buckle...avalanche! The crowd loves it!
The crowd is easily pleased.
Naw, I think they're just afraid those subway freaks'll get nutty on us if they don't pop the right way.
Interesting idea, Jamal. Pedro Chang with the series of closed fists on ThatGuy. Raoul Ramon Ramirez is warning Chang. A heated argument between these two.
Remember folks, Pedro Chang used to be a part of Mexico Unlimited. Ramirez doesn't like Pedro for that. ThatGuy comes in with an inside cradle: Ramirez counts quickly...1.2.Pedro still gets out. Whew!
Pedro Chang with a short clothesline. ThatGuy not fazed. ThatGuy with a back body drop. ThatGuy now applying a crossface! The crowd is really loving it! ThatGuy releases the hold. ThatGuy now tosses Pedro Chang outside the ring. Chang is confronted by the subway freaks. He's begging off...I don't think he wants a part of them, and I don't blame him. Oh no! The giggling man just headbutted Pedro! That bucket knocks him out cold. Pedro Chang is rolled inside the ring. ThatGuy is setting up for the Hideous Finger Bite...IT'S APPLIED! Just a matter of time before Pedro submits, loses a finger, or both!
But here comes Ironman!
Ironman rushes the ring and brushes all the subway freaks aside. He pries ThatGuy off of the Chinese Spic. He gives ThatGuy the Iron Driver! Oh no! The crowd is booing Ironman. Ramirez calling for the bell...now Ironman gives Ramirez an Iron Driver!
Here is your winner, as a result of a disqualification, ThatGuy!
Ironman and Pedro Chang, Los Gringos Locos, are taking out the subway freaks. Oh come on, they haven't done anything wrong! They're just freaks, not wrestlers, damn it! The crowd is really starting to hate this duo for their actions. But wait, it's the Asylum Alliance to save the day! Pedro Chang is abandoned by Ironman. Zebulon releases the mongoose on Pedro Chang. Pedro Chang is being chased back to the locker room. The Asylum Alliance are working the crowd inside the ring. The crowd is appreciative of the display. A s they leave, in order to keep interest we're having our first title defense of the night. The Intercontinental Cruiserweight "This Is Not A Championship Belt But It's Close" Belt goes on the line as Michael Wackson takes on Tortilla Tito. Both men are in the ring, Salsa and Messenger Boy at ringside.
***bell rings.
This should be a great matchup! A luchador, and a wanna-be luchador.
Yeah, so which one's which?
That's not funny. Michael Wackson with an armdrag takedown. Both men up, and this time Tortilla Tito with the armdrag takedown.
Is it just me, or a long time ago, didn't we have a match wherein armdrag takedowns were the only move involved?
Well, it wasn't the ONLY move involved, but I remember that, yes. Are you trying to say that armdrags are the luchadors' time-filler holds?
Okay, you tell me why these two haven't done anything different yet.
Hey, you're right. They ARE just exchanging them. Both managers are screaming to make the fans care! Tortilla Tito moves first. He gets a table from ringside and sets it up. Oh my goodness! ARMDRAG TAKEDOWN ON THE TABLE! The table snaps in half, what a maneuver!
Uh, V? That was just the same damn move they've been doin' all match.
Well, yeah.............But it was through a table.
(long pause)
Well, I can't think of a comeback.
You just have to let things like that stay unrebutted.
Michael Wackson with a few kicks to break the humdrum. Both men now sufficiently tired from the armdrags. Michael Wackson is going for the moonwalk moonsault! NO! Tortilla Tito catches him in mid air and belly-to-back suplex! Tortilla Tito with the Deadly Dorito Drop...YES! Raoul counts: 1.2.3. Hmmm...another quick count? Wait, what's El Presidente doing?
Here is your winner, and NEEEEW ICCTINACBBIC champion, TORTILLA TITO!
El Presidente: Tito: Jhoo've eegnored os long enoff. I want to ask jhoo right now. Juance and for all. Jhoo show os where jhoo lie. Are jhoo weeth os, or against os?
(Tito looks indignant)
JHOO ANSWER ME NOW, BOY!
(Tito shrugs)
THAT'S EET!
(El Presidente rushes Tortilla Tito. A small scuffle, and Tito's shirt is ripped off, revealing a Mexico Unlimited shirt underneath.)
Please khwelcome the newest member of Mehico Onleemeeted, TORTILLA TITO!
El Presidente is gaining quite the stable. And he gets a belt to boot!
The next match is ready to go. The satellite uplink is ready, let's take you to Hollywood, at the Sorvino residence, for the "Crouching Behind the Bushes Brawl". Ugh, I can't believe I'm saying it.
Now I know how Schiavone feels when he has to use the phrase "Big Poppa Pump".
I think that's enough referencing for one day. Some imported ref to call it there, but both men know the rules.
***bell rings as the Monstron lights up with a daylight scene.
Daylight?
It's only 6pm there, which makes me wonder how this will affect the outcome. Sure you can see your opponent better, but won't wrestling in broad daylight attract attention?
Both men lock up. The Swinger with a side headlock. Maniac reverses it and now switches it up to a hammerlock. Swinger squeezes out and back kicks Maniac. He covers: 1...2...Maniac kicks out. Maniac with a hairpull, the ref warns him. Maniac is denying it! Swinger with a sunset flip: 1...kickout. Maniac breaks a branch off a tree in the yard. He smacks Mikey Howell with it! The cover: 1...2...3. Howell now has ten seconds to make it to the birdbath to stay in this. Ugh, again, I can't believe it.
It's only one match. It can't get much more stupid than this.
Five...Six...Seven...Howell touches the birdbath and this match continues. Howell takes Mira Maniac into a swinging neckbreaker! Not much damage, this is on lawn. The cover: 1...2...3. The ten second count has begun, but they're still close to the birdbath, so Mira Maniac makes it at two.
(Quentin Tarantino emerges from the house in a bathrobe)
Hey! What are you morons doing? Oh, it's YOU! You've brought friends along now? You make me sick. I'm calling the cops. Better yet: Honey? Where's my gun?
Oh my God! This is intense!
This match obviously doesn't have much more time left. Hey wait, I suppose the neighbours must have already called, because here comes a copcar.
Officer: Right! You two break it up now. Oh, it's YOU. Don't you EVER give up?
Maniac: Officer, I was invited this time, when this bastard jumped me, and Stripes over there helped.
Officer to Howell: That true?
(Maniac slips him a fifty) Oh, it's true alright.
Officer: I've heard enough. You get out of here. As for you, Stripes, and your boss, let's go, you're both under arrest.
(Howell and the ref are escorted into the copcar in handcuffs. Howell is pounding on the window and screaming: "You haven't seen the last of me!" Maniac takes off. Tarantino emerges again with the gun, looks around, shrugs and walks back in.) Here is your winner, as the result of the arrest clause, MIRA MANIAC!
Well, Maniac really lucked out. I just hope Mikey Howell can get bail, otherwise we might not see him for a while. Fifty dollars can go a long way.
Well, I wouldn't hold my breath. Well, the handcuff match is about to get underway.
The rules of this handcuff match are as follows: While handcuffed to your opponent, you must touch all four turnbuckles to win. Making his way first, from Panama City, Florida, accompanied by Big Daddy Panama, here is B.F. SACK!
(He rushes the ring before his music has a chance to start. Accompanying him as well are a guy in a pinstripe suit with a pencil-thin mustache and wide-brimmed hat, and another eerily familiar actor, who's carrying a sign saying "I'm Grady".)
And his opponent, from New York City, accompanied as always by the nameless armed guards who are nonetheless getting paid for their appearances here, PRISONER X!
(The Prisoner runs out ahead of the guards before his music starts. He quickly cases the place for good escape routes for after the match. One of the armed guards slaps on the handcuffs.)
***bell rings.
B.F. Sack gets in the first move. A Russian legsweep. Both men having trouble getting to their feet - they're going to need some co-operation for this match.
That's right Angus, when you're handcuffed to somebody, there's a lot of give and take.
How would you know from bein' hancuffed to somebody?
I'm nearly 82, I've done a lot more than just wrestled. Some of it I regret. Most of it I just can't recall.
Okay...moving right along...Prisoner X with the inverted atomic drop. He hits turnbuckle number one...going for two...no. Stopped cold by Sack. Sack with an Irish Whip. The gangster is reaching inside his coat!!! What's he...oh, it's just a comb. He's combing his pencil-thin moustache. Whew! Prisoner X jogs three steps, only to remember that he's got a live weight on his right hand, and winds up tripping. Sack with the cover: the ref tells him pinfalls don't count. Sack picks up the Prisoner. Sack with a European uppercut. Sack now with a kneelift! Sack goes to buckle one...buckle two...buckle three...do we have a winner?
NO! Prisoner X takes him DOWN.
Prisoner X slapping Sack. What a mark of disrespect! Sack knees the Prisoner below the belt!
I'm sure that X has received a lot worse where he comes from.
This time, I ain't gonna axe.
Sack slaps buckle one. Buckle two. Buckle three. Buc...no! Prisoner is still in this folks! Prisoner X takes his handcuffed hand and beats Sack with it! The ref warning him, but X just roars in his face. Sack retaliates by taking that short chain and wrapping it around X's neck. The ref counts one, two, three, four, Sack quits it. Prisoner X darts between Sack's legs. Sack's own hand...ouch! Prisoner X slaps buckle one, buckle two, buckle three, Sack rolls him over into a cradle! The ref reminds Sack again. Sack hits buckle one, so does the Prisoner. Sack goes for two, with the Prisoner right behind. Prisoner X hits the third buckle first, now Sack does. It's all down to this last one. Big Daddy Panama snags Sack's hand with the cane and leads it to the buckle...yes! Prisoner X is not pleased with that outcome. The handcuff is snapped in half! B.F. Sack is dumbfounded - he has half a handcuff attached to his hand! Prisoner X runs off through the crowd. He's lost, but he's actually escaped this time! The guards are pursuing, but the crowd is holding them up! Why?
A criminal is loose in the building! And oh yeah, Prisoner X escaped too. Right, Cap?
Quiet you. I beat you in the ring, you have no place to judge me.
Some of the Ratings Flock are jumping the guy with the Grady sign. Linda Lavin hits him with a metal tray! Jackie Coogan with the legdrop. They're all taking their seats again and smiling. What a bunch of smug bastards. Oh well.
Next match should be a dandy. The Pencil-Necked Geek tangles with resident announcer Gary "the Glutton" Gourmando.
Geek's dead.
I don't think so. He's just weaselly enough to pull something out of his sleeve.
Making his way to the ring first, weighing 650 lbs., and from Juliard, France, GARY "THE GLUTTON" GOURMANDO!
("Food, Glorious Food" plays. Gary enters in his old red armor from his "Sir Gary Glutton" days. He is holding an entire suckling pig in his hands, and chomping down on it on the way to the ring.)
And his opponent, from Computers Unknown, weighing 115 lbs., here is the Pencil-Necked Geek!
("Beer Barrel Polka" plays as an entire polka band wearing lederhosen accompanies the PNG down. The crowd is laughing, but the PNG as always yells at them. The polka band leaves.)
Man, that's sick! A whole sucklin' pig?
Whatever.
***bell rings.
The Geek makes a motion to some guys on the catwalk. They lower a gigantic table to the ring. Look at all that food! Must be a twenty-course meal!
Those guys on the catwalk look strangely familiar. I can't see them perfectly, darn cataracts, but I know I've seen them somewhere before.
Sure, they sponsor some of our shows.
That must be it.
Gary looking from the pig to the table and back. He can't decide! He takes one more huge bite out of the suckling pig and tosses it to the crowd. What a souvenir! He's taking bits and pieces of food...taking a bite of each, then throwing it away. Pencil-Necked Geek from behind, the Wrong Homework! The crowd goes wild! PNG now stuffing some watermelon down Gary's throat. The crowd is booing this. Their opinions easily change. Oh, but Gary fights back! An assault of seeds stick on the Geek's spectacles. Geek trying to clear his vision, and Gourmando with a backbreaker! The Geek grabs a sharp bone from the table, he's going for the Sharpened Pencil! Wait...oh sick! The bone got stuck in the folds of Gary's neck! The Pencil-Necked Geek is trying to pry out the bone...YES! It's free. Wtihout a finisher, how is the Geek ever going to get a win over the Glutton?
Look over there, those two guys up above are making their way to ringside. Glutton is distracted...Geek with another Wrong Homework! Gary is sweating like a pig, and out cold. The cover: 1...2...and the Geek with a major upset.
Here is your winner, the Pencil-Necked Geek!
Those two guys have a computer keyboard! They smash it over Gary's fat head. Keys flying everywhere. Wait a...it can't be! They're back?
Bait: That's right, STWF, did you think you could get rid of us forever? The Techie Salesmen from Hell are back, and more devious than ever!
Switch: You tag teams have had it way too easy. The Indestructibles champions? We're primed to take those belts, and show the world what nerds can do!
The three leave to many boos. Alright, the cage is being set up. It's time for Dr. Snare to take on the Tiger! Both men are waiting at ringside, patiently, for the finishing touches.
I'd like to remind everyone that the rest of Paranoia have been barred from ringside...
Which means we'll be seein' 'em soon.
Okay, it's set up, and they're ready to go!
***bell rings.
Tiger whips Snare to the cage, Snare just jumps onto the wall and cross-body onto the Tiger. They don't call him the Master for nothing! Tiger now, to the middle buckle, for a missile dropkick. Tiger tries an elbowdrop, but nobody's home. Snare with a double underhook - any number of things can be applied from here...goes for a suplex. Tiger up, shaking off the damage, goes for a kick, but Snare stops him and takes out the other leg. Snare with a Boston Crab. Tiger has an expression of agony on his face! He just barely reaches the ropes, after a grueling twenty-five seconds. Snare with a gutwrench suplex. He's a suplex machine today!
And you tell me not to reference.
Snare with a neck hang. The ref is counting one...two...three...Snare slams the Tiger down. Snare is climbing the wall...he's halfway up...Tiger follows, Snare's at the top, Tiger grabs his leg. Both men topple, neither one landing too safely. Snare with a grapevine. Snare now DDTs Tiger. He goes to the top buckle...Flying headbutt! Tiger just twitches and grunts.
That's never good.
Snare is climbing the cage again. He's halfway up...he's nearly at..he's at the top! He's beginning his descent. From underneath the ring, there's Milwaukee's Best and Prisoner X! What's up with that?
I think you read my line there, V. Whassup widdat? See, thass how you say it.
Fine. The three men on the outside of the ring toss Snare back in. DOOM and Stealth Bomber running to ringside to even the odds. The ref is yelling at the men to take it to the locker room. OH WOW! Tyrone Mayhem just landed a huge legdrop on Dr. Snare, but where'd he come from?
I believe it was the upper balcony. That must have had some serious momentum.
I'll say. Can we get an instant replay on that?
No.
Figures. Mayhem slips out while the ref is still yelling at the other wrestlers.
When will refs learn to shut up and watch the damn match?
When will announcers learn to stop hyping PPVs and talk about the damn match? They just won't. Leave it be.
Tiger walks calmly out the door. The ref is still oblivious. Tiger taps him on the shoulder. The ref calls for the bell.
Here is your winner, THE TIGER!
Hold on, I have to speak with them.
(Goes over.)
What is wrong with you five? I demand that you explain your actions immediately!
The Tiger: It's very simple, really. We were all friends before we came to the STWF, it's just that we kept it hidden. For some time now, we had planned allying and forming our stable. It's just that we had no reason to. But now, with things as they are, it's our only choice.
Beast Light: Exactly. How will we ever get a fair shake at the Circus Freaks unless we have support to combat the Alliance? How will the Tiger get a chance at the North American belt, same reason.
Tyrone Mayhem: And it looks like the Geek is gettin' a stable, too. So I gotta be prepared, yo.
Prisoner X, your comments?
Yeah, one. Thanks a lot for holding me up! There's my guards now, no way can I escape them. Grrrr.
Um....well, there you have it.
(Runs back over)
Okay, what's up next?
Well, Cap, the Tibetan Monk is fighting our mystery opponent. We get to find out beforehand who it is, with these pre-made comments. But just before that, we're going to see the Monk's entrance.
...from the Himalayan mountains and accompanied by Dali Lama, THE TIBETAN MONK!
(The chants begin. Dali Lama enters the ring with a small effigy of Friar "Buck" on a cross and starts laughing. Boos as the Monk hits the ring.)
And now, let's direct our attention to the Monstron!
("Plasmatic" Peter Thompson appears onscreen)
It's Peter Thompson! "Plasmatic"'s back!
I know a lot of you are saying, "Hey look, Peter Thompson! He's back!" Well, yes and no. You're not fighting me today, Monk, for I have to show you something far darker than that. You will soon behold the most gruesome testament to re-incarnaton. At the hands of the Rogue's Gallery, my brother died, and was sent to a cryo-chamber, as was his wish. But he wasn't quite dead. He has awakened, and he is not happy. Due to a blood shortage, and the seepage of ice water from the cryo-chamber, he is now a walking icicle, a freak of nature...behold, the new, the alive, "Cold Blooded" KEN THOMPSON!
Oh no..."The Hemophiliac" Ken Thompson is alive?
(Ken Thompson shows on the Monstron. He is covered in scars. His skin is now a grayish-blue.)
Veng-g-g-geance...I live...So c-c-c-cold.... eternal c-c-c-cold.
Wow...I have no idea what to say, but let's hope the Monk can handle it. "Hold Me Now" by the Thompson Twins plays, and Peter accompanies "Cold-Blooded" to the ring. He looks awful!
***bell rings.
Ken looks a little stiff...perhaps he's not completely thawed. An axe kick sends the Monk face-first to the mat. A legdrop. Maybe having stiff legs isn't a big drawback after all. The Monk back up and counters with a dropkick. Monk is setting up for a figure-four...but can't. Ken's legs just won't bend that way anymore. Monk stomping on the knees of Cold-Blooded.
That oughta loosen 'im up.
It certainly has. The Tibetan Monk gets the figure four on now. Ken Thompson is trying to reverse it. He's trying...it's not working...it's reversed.
Ken Thompson never had a chance to showcase his skills last time, because of his...um...death? Would that be the proper word?
Good question. Ken Thompson struggling with all his might to keep that leglock on, but the Monk gets to the ropes. The hold is broken. Monk with an enzuigiri. Ken Thompson goes down hard. He's out cold! Ha ha ha.
Not very respectful, Angus. I expect that from Larry Lowbrow, but not from you.
Oh, don't be so serious. Monk is going for the Guillotine! Oh yes, he gets it! Will Ken Thompson get a debut loss?
No way. That never happens.
Then why is the ref raising the Tibetan Monk's hand?
Um...I dunno. I guess anything can happen here.
You said it! And to think, some feds wouldn't even allow a "Coal Miner's Daughter" match.
How many times do you have to bring that up? Alright. Next on the agenda, it's Sweet Candy Andy vs. Pimp of the Year, with special guest referee Richard Roundtree.
How many more celebrities can we have in one card?
Plenty, Cap. PLENTY! We still gonna see Anarchy's chick, Emma Bunton, and Gruff's chick...um, whatsherface, the chick that can tie a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue?
My wife is not "Gruff's chick"!...um, oh, you mean someone else?
You must introduce me to your wife sometime, Vince.
That goes double for me!
This contest is scheduled for one fall. Making his way to the ring, our special guest referee, accompanied by Isaac Hayes, here is Richard Roundtree!
(Isaac Hayes sings "Theme From Shaft" bringing Richard Roundtree to the ring. The Ratings Flock looks displased.)
And first, accompanied by the Candygirls, here is SWEET CANDY ANDY!
Man, my chocolate's SOOOOOO sweet!
("Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees. The Candyman enters in a pink Cadillac, with the girls in the back seat. He dances on the way to the ring. Big pop.)
And his opponent, accompanied by the Entourage, here is PIMP OF THE YEAR!
("Jungle Boogie" by Kool and the Gang. PotY enters in a gold stretch Cadillac. He enters to the ring, surrounded by all his followers.)
Amazing we could fit both Caddies here.
Even more amazin', they're leavin' 'em unsupervised!
Everyone knows you don't rip off a pimp's Caddy. Er...um...ask Gary Gourmando, he'd know all about it. (Whew!)
This match is underway. Sweet Candy Andy starts things off with a pimp slap right to the face of Pimp of the Year! PotY has that "no you didn't" look on his face. PotY tackles Andy and starts slapping the life out of him. Richard Roundtree is telling him to back off. After all, he's still a brother. Well, Pimp can't argue with Shaft, so he backs off. Pimp whips Andy to the ropes, and nails him with an elbow. European uppercut by PotY. And another one! Pimp now tries to kick Andy, but Andy grabs the leg, now takes the other one, is it a Boston Crab?
Nope, slingshot.
Pimp of the Year is draped over the buckle. His entourage is giving advice. Sweet Candy Andy takes a little time-out to showboat. Hey, that puff of smoke at ringside! It's Presto Cadabra, and he's giving a rose to Janice, his former "lovely assistant". I think Janice is accepting it, he's walking off with her is tow. They're holding hands! Good think Andy didn't see it, or this would get ugly.
Good for Presto and Janice. They deserve to be together.
Andy and PotY are back into the fray. Sweet Candy Andy with a snapmare. Now a sitting sleeperhold.
Rest hold! Rest hold!
That's not funny. See, Pimp of the Year is getting out. Slowly, but he is. Restholds are defined by being at least, um...five seconds longer than that. Hmmm. Pimp with a big chop. Pimp with a pump-handle suplex.
I bet they'd both know a lot about pump-handles.
We may be on pay-per-view, but that's no reason to be crude.
Andy exits the ring. He just noticed Janice's absence! He's yelling at the other Candygirls, who are trying to explain. Tito Aqmed Aziz al'Watkins from behind, nails Andy with the Haliburton. Andy is rolled back in the ring.
This is just not the Candyman's day. He's lost a girl, now he's going to lose the match!
Nope. Richard Roundtree is disqualifying Pimp of the Year. And no one's arguing with Shaft.
Here is your winner, as a result of a disqualification, SWEET CANDY ANDY!
The Ratings Flock is attacking again! They're going after Isaac Hayes at ringside! Richard Roundtree is taking care of business now.
Well, he IS the man that would risk his neck for his brother-man...
Both competitors get into their Caddies and drive off. But this feud is far from over. Okay. Only six matches remain. Milwaukee's Best take on the Circus Freaks, NEXT! Both teams in the ring. We might have to hurry this up, our time is limited here...how much time is this arena rented for, anyway? Cap?
I believe we started paying overtime half an hour ago.
Der Kommissaar's not going to like THAT at all! Well, screw him. What's he going to do?
Cut back the announcing staff by one - the person who just said "screw him"?
Er...Der Kommissaar is a great human being. He has every reason to want to save money, I'm behind him 100%.
Y'are now. Brownnoser.
***bell rings.
Beast and Dizzy-D in the ring. Remember, the winner of this match will get next crack at those belts. The Circus Freaks, a proven team and former champions, and Milwaukee's Best, who seem to run hot-and-cold. Perhaps their alliance can help get them on track. Beast with a bodyslam on Dizzy. Beast with a fistdrop, right on Double-D's throat! The ref, Raoul Ramon Ramirez, is okay with that. He's much looser than our regular ref, don't you agree?
That's not always a good thing.
But things are more interesting. Beast with a powerbomb! This early on, there's no telling what could happen. He covers: 1...2...no. DD jumps to the ropes for a corkscrew Asai moonsault. Beast hits the mat long enough for the tag to Sasquatch to occur. Sasquatch with a bearhug.
Rest hold! Rest hold!
Will you SHUT UP about that? Sasquatch lifts Beast up and switches to a backbreaker. Will we see the Saskatchewan Stomp? NO. Beast moves out of the way just in time. Luckily, the Stomp is not really a high-risk maneuver. A lot of area to absorb the shock on the Sasquatch's 36-inch feet.
So, his feet are a yard?
Never really thought of it that way. Beast Light is tagged in. A smile crosses Sasquatch's face. Light throwing everything he's got at the hairy one, but Sasquatch just roars and gurgles what I can only describe as laughter. An inside cradle catches him off guard! One...kickout. Well, you can't keep a big man down. Beast Light now stomps on Sasquatch's feet! A howl of pain! Could we have seen a weak spot? Drop toehold by Light, he's really working those feet now. He drags Sasquatch to the ringpost. He slams that foot against the post! More howls of pain! He does it again! Come on ref, get in there!
Raoul Ramon Ramirez just filing his nails and whistling.
Sasquatch now crawling on his knees to make the tag. Dizzy is back in this. Spinning DDT by the Dizzy one. Double underhook powerbomb. These powerbombs are getting a little overused.
Do you think maybe that's why they cost $50000 now?
Huh? What the hell are you talking about? Never mind. Beast Light is in trouble. The tag back to Beast. Beast picks up Dizzy Desi by one hand! He's going to the top rope...is this the Last Call? Oh yes, and what a move it is. Nobody could get up from that! The cover: 1...2...3. Did anyone escape from that match uninjured?
No. They all four limpin' away.
Okay...let's do another championship. Apocalypse's Inevitables take on the champions, the Rogue's Indestructibles. Again, entrances are skipped by request of the Right Hand Man speaking on behalf of Der Kommissaar.
***bell rings.
Harbinger starts off with Duane Diamond D. D is emaciated just like Chris Powell. That allergy to gold really hasn't done much for them. How they're still champions is beyond me. Harbinger with a fallaway slam. Harbinger picks up D and brain buster! Haven't seen that in a while. Harbinger now, puts D in a cobra clutch. The Rogue hits the ring to make the save. That's the first time I've ever seen the Rogue interfere himself! He's really protective of his team...and his belts.
Duane tries a chickenwing, but it's so easily reversed I have to laugh! First these two no-sell everything, now they can't get anything over at all! Harbinger pushes Duane Diamond D, who trips over his own feet, but not before Chris Powell is tagged in.
Powell asks for a test-o'-strength with Harbinger. Harbinger doesn't go for it. He turns around to tag Therriault. Double team on Chris Powell. Double vertical suplex, as if one guy couldn't do it alone. Well, you know taxmen, they're a group with a lot of redundancy in their ranks.
I think you're thinkin' of construction workers, V.
Am I? Well, that doesn't matter. Maybe I was thinking of wrestling announcers, you're pretty redundant.
Yeah? You axe yo' wife how redundant I am.
Why you...I'll...
Er...Gérard nails Crushing Chris with a crushing blow to the ribs. And now....the CANADIAN SERVICE CHARGE! It's so gruesome, we can't even describe it on pay-per-view!
And ever since CIBC merged with TD, it looks a whole lot worse.
The Inevitables know they have it locked. M. Taxes is holding Powell, asking the Keeper to hit him. Oh, this is just cocky. Just take the belts and go! The Keeper wraps a chain around his boot and goes for a kick. Powell moves away, the Keeper kicks Therriault! Powell tags Duane, both men try and cover Taxes. One...two...three! Oh no, those weaklings keep the belts!
Here are your winners, and STILL champions, the Indestructibles!
Harbinger: That was the straw that broke the comet's back. Apocalypse, we don't need you, you've brought us down enough. We'll get those belts, because it's clear to us now that we can't accomplish that when we have "help" from you!
Therriault: Don't cross our paths again!
The two storm off! I guess they just quit from Apocalypse!
Well, they never fit in anyway.
The rest of Apocalypse stay at ringside, because Anarchy will fight his brother now. Anarchy goes to the back to bring his fiancée. Here comes Rimshot now with a mic, the Entertainment Industry in tow. Presto with Janice, the Vegas Connection, "Black" Jack Dealer, and Gruff, with Audrey Horne.
Rimshot: I never got a chance to say this before. Nik at Nyte: we have a proposal for you. You've got a lot of potential, and we're just the ones to tap it. You certainly fit the credentials of the Entertainment Industry. You need money, we got plenty! After all, that's our whole premise. Break backs, and make a few bucks while you're at it! And we'll make certain that these hasbeens, these syndication HACKS, the Ratings Flock, will never bother you again. Join us, Nik at Nyte. You won't regret it! But if you refuse us, you'll get a new definition of "regret", that we guarantee.
Gruff enters the ring.
***bell rings.
Anarchy in a stare-down with Gruff. Gruff finally locks up. Anarchy lifts up Gruff, but can't do much more due to the size differential. Gruff lifts Anarchy...chokeslam! The crowd cheers. The cover: 1...kickout. The crowd gasps. Anarchy with a kneeling piledriver! The crowd cheers! The cover: 1...kickout by Gruff. The crowd gasps.
This crowd is more repetitive than the Teletubbies. And Jamal, before you say anything, I'm a great-grandfather, okay? Well, who cares, that reference probably went over the heads over nine-tenths of the audience.
Both men exchanging powerful-looking but nonetheless ineffective and inefficient shots. Gruff throws Anarchy out of the ring...he's going for a plancha! The Spanish Announcer's table has been broken! Again!
It's an STWF/CSTLL pay-per-view tradition. Except for Mexico Madness, when the English announcers get their table broken.
They're taking this outside the ring. Anarchy nails Gruff with a television monitor! Gruff is trying to get it off. Anarchy takes him to the top rope...a Doomsday! The television is shattered, but at least Gruff can see again. He collapses. The cover: 1...2...shoulder up.
How can ANYONE kick out of that?
No idea. Gruff puts Anarchy in a chinlock.
Rest hold! REST HOLD!
They need a rest, quiet. Anarchy is out after a nice pause. Gruff takes Anarchy to the top rope in vertical suplex position...Jack Dealer takes Rimshot out of the wheelchair...Gruff suplexes Anarchy into the drumset! Ouch! They're both in. The cover by Gruff: 1...2...shoulder up! These two are amazing!
Aw, they aren't REAL workers.
The Ratings Flock is seizing the opportunity to attack Audrey Horne! Oh no! Gruff hits the top buckle to yell at them. Sugarplum Harry puts the steel steps in the ring. Anarchy grabs Gruff, superplex! Right on the steps. The cover: Raoul Ramon Ramirez in counting, not asking any questions about how the ringsteps got in the ring: 1...2...3. Finally. After many no-sells, this is over.
Here is your winner, ANARCHY!
Both stables beating on the Ratings Flock. Howard McNear is taking a razor to Billy the goat! Now he wants to cut some human flesh! These actors are warped! All the wrestlers beat a hasty retreat.
Only three matches remain.
This North American Championship Contest is set for one fall. Making his way first, the challenger, from Smurf Village and accompanied by Smurfette, WRESTLER SMURF!
("Smurf Dirge" plays. He traipses to the ring with a pickaxe and a c4 cartridge.)
And his opponent, the champion, from Charleston, WV, BOHEMOTH!
(The sound of a dump truck backing up.)
Is that his new theme?
No. Look, he's actually bringing his mining equipment in a dumptruck. Take a look at all that dynamite! And those crates of small glass vials...he brought nitroglycerin! Bohemoth picks up a jackhammer and rushes the ring.
***bell rings.
Bohemoth turns on the jackhammer. HE RUNS AT THE SMURF WITH IT!
WHAT?! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!
I SAID HE RUNS AT THE SMURF WITH IT!
OH.
WHAT WAS THAT? Oh, the extension cord ran out. Bohemoth can't use it! Smurf swings the pickaxe. He misses. He takes the c4 cartridge and tries to beat Bohemoth with it. He misses, it hits the turnbuckle and explodes! Both men down. Ramirez is counting them out...1...2...3...4...5...Bohemoth is up. He's taking Wrestler Smurf to the top rope...he grabs him in a belly-to-belly position: SUICIDE DIVE INTO THE DUMP TRUCK!

(A bright white flash of light fills the arena)

Whoa...now THAT'S hardcore!
Both men are completely singed. Smurfette is on fire! When Wrestler Smurf wakes up he'll really have reason to weep. Both men are lying outside the ring. Raoul Ramon Ramirez is counting: 1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10! A draw. The Ratings Flock consider something with Wrestler Smurf, but they don't do anything. A few of them look a little charred themselves. That was one big blast.
Ladies and gentlemen, this match is a double count-out, your champion is still BOHEMOTH!
Well, that's all well and good. I wonder how Wrestler Smurf will react to his manager's condition. She's still smoldering. The paramedics are arriving to take them both away. But they're hardcore; they'll be fine in a few days.
Well, the next match would have been the main event if StreetMime hadn't taken the belt. The Executioner and Ironman in the ring fighting for number-one contendership, and more importantly, a title shot.
***bell rings.
I'd like to remind everyone that although these two requested a match with tons of stips and gimmicks, we're afraid there was just no more budget for them at the time. Besides, all the gimmick matches should be saved for Monster Bash. Executioner takes the first hit from Ironman: a neckbreaker. Executioner responds with a belly-to-back. Executioner with a Stun Gun. Have these two forgotten how to wrestle reasonably? All those stip matches must have either warped their minds or made them forget wrestling etiquette. Where are the opening gambits? The submission maneuvers, extremity locks?
Your era of wrestling is gone, old man. Bob Backlund ain't wrestlin' no' mo'.
My era will never die! We just take a lot longer to get up in the morning, that's all.
Whatever that means. Executioner with a Samoan Drop. The Ironman gets right up, and a camel clutch is applied by Ironman. Executioner won't submit - I think he'd pass out before he ever gave up to a camel clutch. Ironman is not about to wait that long. He sits down hard on Executioner's back. Ironman with a cranial claw! But honestly, what does that really do?
I could apply it to Jamal, let's find out.
Uh-uh. You ain't gettin' no' mo' pieces o' me.
Ironman gives that up too. Ironman picks Executioner up, spinning heel kick! Executioner reels...off the ropes, and right into another one! This could go on all day.
Executioner exits the ring, wise strategy.
Executioner sees the shattered Spanish table and mutters a curse under his breath. But he does ... aw no. Please no. Ironman hits Executioner from behind. Executioner rolls underneath the ring and returns with a chair. Ironman goes for another hit, but hit hand connects with the chair. Executioner takes Ironman over to...well, right here. Please! Don't wreck the table! This has to last us until Mexico Madness! Well, he's not list...CRACK! Piledriver, and this table is broken in half. Sigh.
What now? There's no place to hold my coffee, I can't find the scripts...that Executioner has a lot to answer for. But I won't be the one to do it.
Ironman kicks out at two-and-a-half. Ironman with a flurry of kicks. Ironman with the IRON DRIVER! Is this over? One...two....no! Executioner takes Ironman to deliver the Death Sentence. No more tables around here, so he settles for a top-rope powerbomb. The cover: one...two...shoulder up! These two are just like Anarchy and Gruff, except they're not brothers. Both men bounce off the ropes. Double clothesline! Both men are down. Domenic Oliver tries to enter the ring to drape Ironman's hand over the Executioner's, but that's not happening. Raoul Ramon Ramirez finally sees reason. Eight...nine...Executioner lays a hand over! One.......two.......three! He's getting a shot for a second title reign.
Here is your winner, THE EXECUTIONER!
Ironman hits Executioner with another Iron Driver for his efforts. Pedro Chang from out of nowhere, the LA Hangover! Executioner slowly gets up, staring daggers at Ironman. He's reaching for his crobar...Ironman, Chang and Oliver run off to avoid the chaos about to ensue. Executioner chases them, wielding the crobar.
And now....our final match. The audience is breathing a sigh of relief. StreetMime is coming down from the rafters.
And the opponent that StreetMime has chosen, accompanied by Trapezoid, here is...THE SQUARE!
The Square? He still here?
Hard to tell, he's barely noticeable, even when he's around. That IS how he won the championship belt in the first place, at SUPERCARD I. Transcripts of SUPERCARD I, and II for that matter, are still available, just ask for them from Der Kommissaar.
Thanks for the plug. StreetMime goes for a lockup. The Square kicks him once in the head. StreetMime drops like a stone. Some champion! The Square covers: 1...2...3? What the f...
Now now, Vince, language language.
Uh...here is your winner, and new STWF Heavyweight Champion, The Square? Who is this guy? Does he work here? Oops, mic's still on.
And the Square becomes a two-time champion. If it's nae predictable, it's STWF! Well, that's all our time. Thank goodness! I hope you've enjoyed SUPERCARD III, we've had one hell of a night! On behalf of Captain Twilight, Jamal Tupac Mustafa, I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden saying, get to sleep, you have to work tomorrow!
©1998 Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre