Welcome to Classic Wrestling (Ep 4)
“Flying High Again” by Ozzy Osbourne hits on the Studio speakers.
The CLASSIC Wrestling splash logo explodes onto your television screen as the music screeches onward at a dizzying pace. Still shots taken from the last two episodes of Classic Wrestling TV rotate across the screen in a dazzling display of audio-visual excellence! A quick flash brings the camera inside of the Classic Wrestling Studio to a crane-shot showing the pristine ring, the iconic television set, and the jam-packed bleachers full of fans placed just on the other side of the ring. The fans do their part to get the show off to a rock solid start by doing what they do best…
Losing their entire minds!
RAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
As the crowd dies down the camera lands on Otto Price at his podium. He stands poised in a suit and tie, his large round glasses reflect a bit of the light. He smiles and brings the microphone up to his mouth, ready to talk to the camera. .
Otto Price: Welcome to another action packed edition of Classic Wrestling here on RBTV, and THANK YOU for tuning in! I”m Otto Price, the Host of Classic Wrestling, and we’ve got some HUGE matchups for you fine folks tonight!
We cut over to the commentary table.
Price: Here are my colleagues, Patrick Moss, and Joel “Thunderbird” Howley
The fans cheer again.
Moss: Welcome back Classic Wrestling fans! We’re excited to be back on your television sets!
Howley: That’s right Moss, you can never have too much THUNDERBIRD in your life!
Howley flexes for the camera before we return to Otto Price.
Price: That’s right, we’ve got TWO more tournament matches in the quest for the REAL WORLDS CHAMPIONSHIP! “Feral” Freddy Kilgore will go one on one with Rush Starling, as well as Lord Colossus vs the cunning Randall Schwartz! We’ve got a big tag team match when the Amazing Amerettos go up against the debuting Surf Express Bro, and a few more surprises up our sleeves. So stay tuned for those great contests!
He switches gears.
Price: Now as many of you may know, Earlier this week we got some big news from upstairs. That the Tag Team Championships would be revealed tonight! Well we’ve got them right here!
Two ladies in long sparkling dresses come out holding one championship each. The hold the title up where they can be seen as they walk. The fans in attendance get excited once more. They end up on either side of Otto whose face goes red. They set the championships down on the podium so that they display nicely.
Price: There you have it ladies and gentlemen, a fine prize indeed! Just look at those beautiful championships! Now I just got word from the back before coming out here, that I can confirm, Tonights tag team match will be a qualifier for the Tag Team Championship match at our first big Pay Per View, SLAM-A-THON! Coming to you live in August!
Howley: What sources does he have that I don’t Moss? Who’s Otto Price talking to, that’s what I wanna know!
Price: We’re headed to the Gund Arena for the biggest show in the brief history of Classic Wrestling. I know Tickets have gone on sale, and i’ve heard it’s been crazy down at the box office, so fan’s do not delay, pick up your tickets for Slam–A-Thon right now!
The Foreign Legion come through the curtain and head over to where Otto Price is talking. He doesn’t even see them coming, but the fans quickly begin to boo. He finally sees them.
Price: Oh, What is the meaning of this?
Mushigahara, Leon Van Zandt, and their manager now stand beside the podium.
Dante: What a FARCE of an announcement, Otto Price. You come out here, with these BEAUTIFUL championship belts, and you don’t extend the chance to compete for them to, as was proven the last time Classic Wrestling held court here, THE dominant force of Classic Wrestling?!
The leader of the Foreign Legion shakes his head.
Dante: Pitiful. A championship should be in the hands often strongest. The BEST. And it is only fitting that the BEST tag team in Classic Wrestling simply TAKES the crown for itself. Mushi? Leon?
The brutes of the Foreign Legion look to their leader, who simply makes a simple whistle and gestures raising a finger upward, after which the global talents smile and simply take the straps from the podium.
Moss: Hey they can’t do that!
Price: What do you think you’re doing!?
Dante: Well, Otto, my boy, if you have a problem with that, you can still have your big qualifying match tonight, and have them face us at Slam-A-Thon! For now though? You can just be grateful for this moment of basking in the glory of YOUR Classic Wrestling tag team champions.
Leon in particular is looking at his newly-pinched strap, which is slung over his shoulder, and nodding with approval, before the walk off with the championship. The fans watching live boo loudly and call for them to come back, but to no avail. Otto looks at them before looking back at the camera… He’s clearly shaken up.
Price: Well everyone, I don’t know what to make of what just happened, lets…we’ll be right back after a word from these great sponsors!
Cut to commercial.
Dash Dackson vs Rikki Roxx
The camera shot goes back to ringside as we see Ring Announcer extraudionair Harold Robbins standing poised, ready to announce the next match.
Moss: Alright Thunderbird! This week we’ve got a hell of a match to start off an exciting show! We’ve got two guys trying to regain some momentum after being knocked out of the World Title Tournament!
Howley: You got that right Moss, one of these two is going to get back to their winning ways, while the other… well they’re going to have some things to sort out!
Moss: Let’s kick it over to Harold for introductions!
Flash Gordon starts on the PA as smoke bellows near the curtain. A spotlight zeroes in on the center where Dash is knelt down. In time with the music he stands up and puts his hands in the air. His trusty robot companion, Hello World, wheels behind him as Dash slaps hands with some fans as he makes his way to the ring.
Harold Robbins: Ladies and Gentlemen, this next match is scheduled for one fall with a 20 minute time limit! Coming to the ring first, Accompanied to the ring by his…robot… Hello World! he hails from…
Rolling into the ring and does a very exaggerated point and shouts “THE FUTURE!”.
Robbins: The Future! Weighing in at 210 Lbs. This is “The Future Fighter” DASH DACKSON!
He smirks in his corner as he awaits his opponent.
I WANNA ROCK! ROCK!
Rikki Roxx struts into the arena like only he can as Twisted Sister belts out the classic tune. Bandana wrapped around his head and long flowing blond hair behind him. He’s got the stiff upper lip going below his mirrored aviator sunglasses as he swaggers his way to the ring. The six ladies in the crowd scream and rush the barricades, showering him with used panties and pleas for love as he makes his way up the stairs.
Roxx provocatively enters through the ropes, looking above his aviators pushed down to the end of his nose and shooting the ladies a wink before going into the ring with metal horns high into the air. He parades around and poses for the crowd, soaking in the energy as he awaits.
Robbins: And his opponent… Weighing in at 235 lbs. He hails from Detroit Rock City! This is The THRASHMANNNNN…. RIKKI ROXX!
The two men stand in their respective corners without taking their eyes off one another.
The bell sounds and Rikki and Dash both lock up in the center of the ring. Both men push with all their might and finally Rikki Roxx shows his strength (or weight) advantage and pushes Dash back into the turnbuckle. The official calls for a clean rope break and Rikki relents cautiously.
Moss: I don’t know how many times Roxx has had a strength advantage there Thunderbird, but he looks to have it here!
As Roxx backs away Dash flicks his head, cracking his neck and goes in at the Thrashman again. This time Roxx catches him with a hip toss however that sends Dash sprawling. He slaps the mat in frustration as Roxx urges him to come on. On the outside, Hello World wheels up to the ring apron.
“Let’s go Dash!” Some of the fans agree and get behind the Future Fighter.
Dash feeds off the crowd and comes back up and ducks a clothesline from Rikki. On the return off the ropes he jumps and leapfrogs his opponent. Finally as Roxx turns around Dash is able to land a dropkick that sends both men crashing to the mat.
The fans cheer as they both get to their feet, keeping an eye on the other.
Howley: Pretty even matchup here Moss, These guys seem to have an answer for one anothers movesets.
The pair get up, reset and lock up once more. This time Dash uses his quickness to duck under and behind his opponent. He lifts him up and spins him down face first on the canvas with a big belly to back suplex. Dash locks in a headlock on the mat. The official is quick to slide in and verify it’s a legal hold before asking Rikki if he wants to submit. The Mount Rushmore of Encore declines albeit painfully.
Roxx is able to slowly get up with the weight of Dash on him. He makes it to his feet and tosses an elbow into the stomach of Dackson to break the hold. He grabs Dash by the wrist and sends him running into the turnbuckle. He lands back first with a loud thud. Rikki waists no time and follows up with some forearms and kicks in the corner. His last forearm lands hard and Dash walks along the ropes holding his jaw. It’s enough space for Rikki to sneak in with a quick suplex in the middle of the ring. He goes for a cover.
Moss: Does Dackson have enough to kick out!?
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Thunderbird: Listen, these guys both know how important this match is. You gotta fight back Moss or you’re going to be left in the Classic Past!
Both wrestlers get to their feet. Rikki goes to shoot Dash off the ropes, but Dash holds on and reverses it, sending Roxx off instead. Dash ducks for a back body drop and Roxx goes high into the air before crashing onto the mat. He holds his back in pain. Dackson wastes no time and drops a knee into the back of the neck of the Rockstar.
Thunderbird: Smart man! He’s softening him up for that Sleeper Hold of his! Moss you could learn a thing or two from this Dackson character. The man has his own Robot! How cool is that?
Moss: It’s pretty cool!
Thunderbird: You know nothing about being cool Moss, Shut up!
Dash picks Roxx up to his feet and hooks him for a suplex. He lifts him straight up in the air and stalls. Rikki rocks (No pun intended) back and forth and is able to use his weight to come back down on his feet, reversing the move. When he lands, he instead picks up Dackson for a suplex only to drive him down to the mat on his head.
Moss: LOVE ON THE ROXX~! There’s his Brainbuster! What a reversal!
Roxx makes the cover as Hello World spins in place in distress.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Moss: What a climax! Rikki Roxx picks up his first win in Classic Wrestling!
Robbins: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by pinfall…. RIKKI ROXXX!
Thunderbird: I wonder if he’s got any groupies backstage!? Do you think he does? He’d surely hand one off to Ol’ Thunderbird right?
Rikki Roxx gyrates in the ring in celebration as we move to elsewhere in the building.
Screechin’ Harpy
We’re backstage at the studio, right outside the locker rooms. Already dressed in his trunks, ready for action, we see the wild and wooly cowpuncher from Cut and Shoot, Texas Mr. Gordy Lovett stretching out before his match-up with the odd-ball Scott Hunter. The Texas Stampede is looking sporting in his black trunks, cowboy style wrestling boots, and bull rope looped around his “trimmed” Willie Nelson t-shirt like an outlaws bandoleer. Not far from him, on a GIANT brown and grey cellular telephone about the size of a shoebox… I believe that’s what they’re called… his manager, The Georgia Peach Doris Hilton.
Hilton: … well it better be taken care of, you little nitwit. Or you, your little girlfriend and that bastard child of yours will be out on your butts, do you hear me? Yeah, well, right back at you honey, I’ve been called worse… well I have to be here and make sure my little project stays the course, you know that…
Doris gives Gordy a somewhat annoyed, quick bit of side eye.
The intense phone call continues in the background. From the other direction swaggers none other than the mighty Smoky Mountain Savage himself, King Kong Frank. Oblivious to pretty much everything, as is his way, Frank lumbers up to the Texas Stampede with a mason jar in one hand and a six pack of Lone Star in the other and a goofy grin on his face. He happens a cockeyed gander down the hall real quick to make sure Doris is still preoccupied…
Frank: Well crap fire and save box matches, look who it is!
He takes a long, messy pull from his mason jar.
Frank: Figgered ya might wanna get a li’l pre-match workout in! Just like the old days!
The Hillbilly Jesus offers up the full sixpack of the best, cheapest beer in Texas to his now and again road acquaintance. The look on Gordy’s face is conflicted… but beer. He casts a quick glance over his shoulder and shrugs, snagging the six delicious room temperature treats from Frank’s meaty mitt. Lovett snaps into one, downing the entirety of the can. A burp of some size and, I’m assuming, smell rumbles up from Gordy’s gut as he immediately snaps into a second beer. He eyeballs Frank up and down…
Gordy: So whatchu up to back ‘ere besides whettin’ my whistle? You ain’t wresslin’ tonight.
Frank: I gots me a weasel problem needs fixin’, if’n ya know what I mean.
Gordy: [completely sincere] Aww, dang man, shoulda’ told me. I coulda’ thrown a couple a Peepaw’s old weasel traps in the pick-up before I headed on out ‘ere to wrassle. That crazy old fart has a trap for near on everthang, man.
The burly hillbilly’s grin widens.
Frank: Ain’t no problem, good buddy, you know I like to get mah hands dirty ever’ now an’ again!
Lovett chuckles and takes an enormous swig from his new beer.
Before the two men’s pleasantries can continue much further The Georgia Peach sidles back up beside her client. Doris narrows her cat-like green eyes and shoots daggers at the Smokey Mountain Mastodon. She notices the now four-pack of beer hanging from Gordy’s finger, reaching over and breaking the poor big guy’s heart and takes the rest of the beer away.
Hilton: You have a match in literal minutes, you idiot.
Lovett crushes the empty still clutched in his paw out of sheer shock. Doris turns her attention back to Frank.
Hilton: As for you, you mongrel… you leave my client be. He needs to keep his head on straight and get his first win tonight…
She scowls and gives a little more quick, icy side-eye to her client.
Hilton: … for his own good. So hit the BRICKS you disgusting hillbilly. Go swill gasoline and huff paint, or whatever it is you people do, preferably somewhere far AWAY from my client.
Gordy angrily sulks, turns away from the situation and continues stretching and preparing for his match. The Georgia Peach lets a nasty little smile roll across her lips. Frank looks over her shoulder at his friend but is only greeted by the silence of his wide back and shoulders. Frank’s wordless disappointment is easy to suss out. He again lifts his jar and takes the saddest swig of moonshine anyone’s every swug and simply turns and heads back down the hallway from whence he came.
Frank: [muttering to himself] Gyat-dang screechin’ harpy… reminds me’a my ol’ lady.
Rich K Hunt vs Carlos Ruiz
We move to the ring and Carlos Ruiz is ready and waiting for his opponent. The tunes of “Bombeleo” are fading quickly.
The crowd begins to boo as the opening for Barret Strong’s ‘Money (That’s what I want)’ begins to play through the speakers. The boo’s get louder as THE Rich K. Hunt steps out from behind the curtain wearing his douchiest of grins.
Moss: Rich K Hunt looking to rebound after being bounced from the REAL WORLDS TITLE a few weeks ago!
Howley: He looks confident, Moss!
He stands there for a moment, looking around at the crowd before raising his arms in the air. When he does so, thousands of fake dollar bills begin to reign down from the ceiling. As the fans try to grab the fake dollar bills, he makes his way to the ring knowing the disappointment they were going to feel when they realize it’s not real money.
Robbins: Ladies and Gentlemen the following match up is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Madrid, Spain! He is “The Spanish Superstar” CARLOS RUIZ!
Carlos waves and smiles to the crowd.
Robbins: And his opponent. He hails from Manchester, England! He is THE RICH K HUNT!
Rich takes a quick bow, to which the crowd does not respond kindly.
Moss: This is our first completely international matchup here in Classic folks, just more evidence that we’ve assembled the greatest roster on the planet.
As the bell rings Ruiz walks up to Hunt, as Hunt takes a few steps back he begins to pull out a wad of cash and holds it out towards Ruiz. Ruiz thinks about it for a moment before slapping the wad of cash to the ground. Hunt scurries trying to pick up the cash as Ruiz walks to his corner shaking his head.
Howley: You idiot! You should’ve taken the cash and ran.
Moss: Some people have integrity!
Howley: Yeah they are called poor.
Hunt gets to his feet and rushes towards Ruiz who quickly sidesteps. Hunt rebounds off of the ropes and is hit with a huge back body drop. Hunt bellows in pain while grabbing his lower back. Ruiz quickly picks up Hunt and grabs him in a side headlock. Cranking it deeper and deeper as Hunt flails his arms. As they die down the ref checks. Lifting an arm once.
Howley: Come in Hunt! Make him pay!
The ref lifts it again.
Moss: I’m afraid this one might be over.
And on the third one Hunt fights through it and eventually gets to a base and shoves Ruiz into the ropes. As Hunt gathers himself he is rocked by a flying forearm to the chin. Knocking him to the ground. Ruiz kips up to his feet and begins to stalk Hunt.
Moss: Ruiz is looking to end this one once and for all.
Howley: Get up…. Wait no… stay down!
Hunt claws his way to his feet, staring off into the crowd as he waves off the crowd who are pointing behind him.
Howley: I can’t watch.
As Hunt turns around, SMACK!
Moss: SPANISH EYES!
Ruiz lands the super kick flush as Hunt crumples to the mat. Ruiz covers and with each count thrusts his hand in the air.
One!
Two!
Three!
The bell rings.
Robbins: ..Your winner by Pinfall, “THE SPANISH SUPERSTAR” CARLOS RUIZ!
Moss: What a statement win here for Carlos Ruiz! Still undefeated here in Classic Wrestling!
Howley: Rich on the other hand, has to quit putting his money where his mouth is!
Carlos celebrates on the outside of the ring with the fans, slapping them all high fives on his way to the back.
You Are Family
We are in the backstage portion of the Classic Studio where “Big” Joe Geoue stands beside none other than Rush Starling. Our young and upcoming grappler stands tall wearing a black t-shirt with a gold outlined lion head in the center. He adjusts his blue jeans slightly before Joe begins.
Geoue: Rush Starling, it was an impressive debut against Freddy Chedda and I want to welcome you to Classic Wrestling, young man!
Rush smiles and nods but something else has caught his attention. It’s the roar of the crowd in the distance.
Starling: Holy cow! Do you hear that, Joe?!
“Big” Joe smiles at the camera and then towards Starling.
Geoue: Of course! It’s probably because they are right outside that door behind you.
Rush’s head turns around and he points at the door.
Starling: That one right there?
Geoue nods.
Geoue: Yes but let’s…. Rush?
Starling turns around and opens the door “Big” Joe was referencing. It takes a moment for the fans inside to realize it’s Starling who has walked out and when they do they erupt louder than before. As the camera finally gets in a position we can see Rush pumping down the crowd. He stands between two sections while “Big” Joe stands behind Starling with the microphone under Rush’s arm.
Starling: Wow…. WOW! This… you… are amazing! You know friends, I honestly wanted to talk one on one with the great “Big Joe” Geoue tonight-
The crowd pops for the backstage interviewer.
Starling: But! When I found out you folks were just a few steps away, I had to tell you this myself! Tonight… it’s beast vs man! I’m going to face Freddy Kilgore. ‘Papa Wild Thang’ can only be described as a man that can humble any of us competing in Classic. He’s formidable, unpredictable- he is truly a beast among men!
Rush points his finger slowly around the studio as he talks.
Starling: No matter what happens tonight, all of this is for a legacy. My family’s legacy. I’ve never been so separated from them but… since day one, you all cheered for me- supported me! Helped me dig deeper to bring home the win against Freddy Cheddar. That… that actually means more than a Western Union.
Rush looks over to the closest fan to him and places a hand on their shoulder.
Starling: My family may not be here but-
He looks at them deep in the eyes while “Big” Joe maneuvers between to catch all the audio.
Starling: YOU… are family.
The crowd explodes.
Starling: And this is OUR legacy! Wish me luck, Joe!
Starling turns around and exits where he came as the fans start to swarm around “Big Joe”.
Geoue: Well, you heard it from the young man himself! I guess this is a big family now and what a match up he will have tonight with a very capable Freddy Kilgore.
Instead of heading for the back, Rush heads for the ring, excitedly waving to the fans with a smile on his face.
Freddy Kilgore vs Rush Starling (Round 2 WTT)
We move back to the ring and Rush Starling is in his corner stretching as his opponent finishes his ring entrance. “Wildside” by Motley Crew finishes up and the house lights come back on. Inside the ring our Ring Announcer prepares his ring announcements.
Robbins: Ladies and Gentlemen the next match up is scheduled for one fall, and is a quarterfinal matchup in the REAL WORLDS CHAMPIONSHIP Tournament!
Howley: Ooooh Baby!
Robbins: In the corner to my right, Weighing in at 240 pounds, he hails from Allentown, Pennsylvania. This is RUSH STARLING!
The fans cheer loudly, and Rush waves as the ring announcer switches sides.
Robbins: in the opposite corner… Weighing in at 282 pounds, hailing from The Wild Side! This is “Feral” FREDDY KILGORE!
More cheers for Kilgore as the ring announcer steps out of he ring.
The bell rings as Freddy comes out of his corner. A fan makes a call from the crowd and the Feral one responds in kind. Rush Starling sees an opportunity and capitalizes. He comes in with a running boot to the gut that stumbles Freddy. He follows it up with some hard right hands and then snapmares Kilgore into the middle of the ring!
Howley: Rush Starling is taking the bull by the horns there Moss. He’s knows this match will catapult him into the Semi finals of the REAL WORLDS TITLE TOURNAMENT.
Kilgore gets right back up, but Rush stays on him. Forearms and kicks come with ferocity. Finally a big knee lift takes Kilgore down again. Now he shakes his head trying to regain his composure. The Feral one gets back to his feet pulling on the ropes for balance, but Rush is right there to slam his head into the turnbuckle, not once, but thrice, before the official can slip and get between them. He tells Rush that he needs to watch it in the corner. Starling throws his hands up innocently and tries to calm down.
Moss: Rush is a ball of fire here early on. Quickly taking advantage. Maybe a little OVER-zealous in the turnbuckle with that one.
Howley: Listen, this is physical competition, it’s hard not to react with emotion in the heat of the moment. Sometimes you go for an eye, or elbow a guy in the head before you even think about it.
Starling pulls Kilgore out of the corner and sends him off the ropes with an Irish Whip. Freddy ducks Rush’s clothesline attempt and turns around and nails him square in the jaw with a huge right hand. Rush hits the mat hard. Kilgore is starting to feel the power! He motions for the fans to come alive, and they respond by doing just that.
He turns back around and Rush is nearly to his feet. Not wanting to lose momentum he takes the second generation superstar for the ride with a quick vertical suplex. Standing right back up, he pumps his arm and spins in place.
Howley: He’s feeling…whatever it is that a “Feral” person feels!
Moss: I think it’s adrenaline Thunderbird, and he’s got the fans behind him!
He hits the ropes and comes back for a big running splash. He lands flush. He goes for the cover but Rush Starling has his feet underneath the bottom rope, so the official won’t count. Kilgore pulls Rush up to a standing position before placing both of his feet in the chest of Starling.
Howley: What a dropkick! Did you see the elevation!
Both men get back up and Kilgore is there again with another dropkick but this time Rush is able to fall backwards towards the rope and avoids the big move. He runs off the ropes while Kilgore makes it to his knees, Rush delivers a huge running knee that will knock Freddy right back down to the mat. Rush moves in quickly and puts on a spinning toe hold. The fans get loud urging on Kilgore as he thrashes in pain.
Moss: Will he give up! This is a devastation move! All that pressure placed on the ankle could cause it to snap in two. On the mat “Feral” Freddy Kilgore refuses to quit!
The official is in great position to see the submission, but it never comes. Kilgore reaches up and punches the spinning Starling in the head. The hold is loosened. When Rush goes to spin again Kilgore uses his free leg to push off the butt of Starling. Rush is tossed into the ropes and comes back backwards. Kilgore rolls him up!
Moss: THIS COULD BE IT!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Rush kicks out at the last second. Freddy is wild eyed and bewildered, although that’s fairly normal. Both men breath heavy on the mat. Kilgore tries to loosen up his ankle before standing on it. Each makes their own way to their feet and we’re faced with another showdown in the middle of the ring. The fans explode in applause of the competitive match we’ve seen so far. Both men lock up. Kilgore, the stronger of the two, get’s the advantage and tosses Rush off the ropes and lifts him straight up in the air with a body press!
Howley: Now that’s a display of strength Moss, and he almost does it as good as I used to do!
Rush, doing anything to survive swings downward and hits Kilgore in the head. He drops his opponent but Rush is able to land on his feet instead of being slammed down. He kicks Kilgore in the gut, and then slams him down to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker. Rush makes his way to top the turnbuckle.
Moss: He’s looking for it!
Starling waistes no time and jumps off the ropes and lands a devastating elbow drop across the chest of Freddy Kilgore!
Howley: Oh my! The Keystone Drop!
Moss: Rush delivers the big elbow! Now he makes the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The bell rings as Feral Freddy Kilgore kicks out a second too late. He grabs his head in frustration right away. Starling moves to his knees where his arm is raises by the officials.
Robbins: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner by pinfall… RUSH STARLING!
Moss: Rush starling moves onto the next round! He’s going to take on the winner of our main event of the evening tonight in the semi finals!
Howley: Freddy Kilgore got so close Moss, he’s a hell of a competitor and going to be a great one for us here at Classic Wrestling. You know he’s not yet done gunning for the REAL WORLD’S CHAMPIONSHIP!
Both men get up and stare each other down in the middle of the ring. Kilgore reaches out his hand and the crowd goes wild. Rush looks at the fans as they eager cheer him onto acceptance.
Moss: Uh-oh what’s going to happen here?
…and Rush takes his hand before they hug in the middle of the ring!
Moss: The ultimate show of respect between these two guys! They really had a great match here tonight!
Issue Two
A video vignette plays of Harry Chest sitting at the command seat in front of a cartoonishly large computer setup in some sort of office.
As if this lair is something straight out of a science fiction movie, liquid filled beakers and test tubes simmer and smoke on nearby tables, providing ambient sound in the background.
Harry Chest: Hmmmm. Hmmmmmmmmmm. HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!
Chest murmurs to himself whilst rubbing his chin.
Harry Chest: Ah. Ahhhhhhhhh. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
His eyes stare at the monitor intently. What’s being displayed to him looks like blueprints of one, Dr. Devastation.
Harry Chest: Few weak points. That dastardly dreaded demon of devastation needs to be taught a lesson for putting hands on Serena Reyes last week.
Chest clangs away on the computer keyboard as if he’s actually doing meaningful work.
Harry Chest: Serena is a fine random citizen and must be protected at all costs. This deed cannot go unpunished.
Harry moves his hand from the keyboard to the mouse as he clicks away.
Harry Chest: There’s got to be something I can do to put Dr. Devastation in his place.
Suddenly, an alert pops up on his screen.
Harry Chest: JUMPING JOLLY JELLY BEANS!
Chest plays with his tuft of hair as it appears he found some valuable information.
Harry Chest: Now that’s some information I must reveal to all the random citizens! Quick! I must make haste! To the studio of superiority!
Chest bolts from his technology station, slings his cape over his back and sprints off, presumably heading to the Classic Wrestling studio to share the news he’s found.
Gordy Lovett vs Scott Hunter
Moss: We’re back, right here in the Classic Studio, and we’ve got Scott Hunter ready for action inside the ring!
Howley: I don’t know about this kid, Moss, I saw him earlier in the locker room lacin’ up his boots…
Moss: Yeah, and?
Howley: And he had this look on his face like he was right in the middle of failing a math test!
Moss: Would you stop!
The unmistakable twang of Hank Williams Jr.’s guitar strums through the building as “A Country Boy Can Survive” plays. It doesn’t take long before the cow-punching Texan himself, Gordy Lovett, emerges from the entrance curtain with Doris Hilton close behind him. The Texas Stampede is a hot mess of everything that you either love or hate about Texas, he’s got that handlebar ‘stache and a mouth full of chaw and a rugged old bull rope at his side before he starts whipping it all over the place, sending everyone within arm’s reach scattering as he climbs onto the bleachers and starts hollering incoherently and climbing toward the top.
Howley: Look at this guy! He knows how to get a crowd on their feet!
Moss: This is going to drive our insurance premiums up…
Reaching the top, Gordy lets out a loud hoot and throws up the horns in true Texas cowboy fashion, all the while slamming the bell of his rope on the top bleachers and making all sorts of commotion. Meanwhile, in the ring, Scott Hunter has a look of mild trepidation on his face at the prospect of wrestling a man whose hobbies include bovine pugilism. At the behest of Doris Hilton, after longer than seems necessary, the big bronco-bustin’ badboy for Cut and Shoot makes his way back down the bleachers and to the ring. Introductions are made, and the bell is called for!
DING! DING!! DING!!!
Gordy charges in but Hunter, the quicker and more agile of the two, easily sidesteps and sends Gordy into the turnbuckles. He winds up and unloads on Gordy with a couple of quick jabs and a haymaker, pulling him out before the ref can chastise the closed fists and picking the cowboy up and dropping him down with a quick inverted atomic drop!
Moss: Right in the cowbells!
Gordy’s eyes cross as he prances precariously around the ring, gasping for air and trying to recover, but Hunter is quick to grab him with a double-leg and take the bigger man down. Never letting go of the legs, Hunter dives into an elbow drop right into the inside of the knee and thigh. He hops up and drops another, and a third in quick succession!
Howley: Now look at Hunter! He’s got the big cowboy down! He might just have a solid plan here!
Moss: That’s right! Looks like he’s softening Gordy up for that Figure Four here in the early goings!
After the third elbow drop Hunter synches in on the leg, using his own body weight as a counter anchor and wrenching at the ligaments in Gordy’s leg. He keeps this up for a while with the referee asking if Gordy wants to give it up and getting a face full of tobacco spittle and some unintelligible cursing for his troubles. After a few moments the wily veteran reaches up and grabs Hunter by the face, raking at his eyes and breaking the hold! He scrambles up but before he can capitalize Hunter grabs him by the same leg, drops him back down to the mat, and jumps on the knee with another elbow drop and synches the hold right back in!
Howley: The wrestling IQ on this kid is impressive, Moss, but I’m not convinced his actual IQ is out of the single digits!
Eventually Gordy manages to break the hold again using a chin-lock and brute force and the race is on again! Gordy grabs Hunter by the head, but Hunter creates juuuuuuuuuust enough space to execute the prettiest standing drop kick that human eyes have ever had the pleasure of seeing!
Moss: Scott Hunter really does seem to have the Texan’s number so far!
Howley: Bold of you to imply that Scott can count, Moss!
Hunter pulls Gordy up again and shoots him off the ropes hard, Gordy picks up some steam as Scott drops down and Gordy hits the opposite ropes, this time Scott leapfrogs, easily clearing the big Texan! Gordy hits the ropes one more time and Scott sets up for a big arm-drag but Gordy launches himself like a linebacker and runs right through Hunter with the Shoulder Block to end all shoulder blocks! At ringside Doris cheers her man on as he takes control, immediately putting the boots to the fallen Scott Hunter. Gordy drags Hunter up and manhandles him into the nearest corner where he then goes to work, cracking Hunter’s jaw with a straight right hand that he follows up with a giant overhand chop to Scott’s chiseled chest that leaves a handprint the size of of a hubcap on Hunter’s chest!
Moss: HOLY MOLEY! He’s gonna cave his chest in!
Howley: Yep, all that athleticism and five bucks’ll get ya a small coffee these days if you’re lucky!
Gordy goes to work, lacing in the straight shots and yelling incomprehensible “Texisms” any time the referee tries to get him to open up his fists or break a count. Doris slaps the mat and shouts instructions as Gordy takes his time alternating between beating up Scott Hunter and jawwing with the very vocal fans in the Classic Studio who wanted to like the Texas Stampede before he really sunk into his rowdy antics and borderline illegal activities. After a while Hunter fires up and he gets the upper hand momentarily by sheer force of athleticism!
Moss: This kid is a wrestling virtuoso, Thunderbird! Even you can’t deny that!
Howley: More like he’s an idiot savant!
Hunter gets some momentum before launching himself at Gordy with a beautiful looking and perfectly executed Cross Body Block! The problem with that is that Gordy is every bit as strong as he looks and he CATCHES Hunter in mid-air! With a hoot he lifts Hunter up over his shoulder before taking off like a runaway big rig, slamming Scott’s back across the top turnbuckle before pivoting and driving him HARD into the mat!
Moss: TEXAS STAAAMPEEEEEEEEEEEDE!
Howley: IT’S OVER MOSS!
And just like that, it’s academic.
ONE!
TWO!!!
THREE!!!
The wild texan rolls off Hunter and gets to his feet quickly with his hands in the air in celebration. Doris is slightly more pleased than normal on the outside.
Robbins: Your winner of this match, “COWPUNCHER” GORDY LOVETT!
Howley: Cow Puncher? I know it’s impressive but a nickname?
Moss: You going to tell him otherwise?
Howley: Absolutely not! I’m not stupid Moss!
The Amazing Amarettos vs Surf Express Bro
KA-BOOM! Twin explosions create twin rising plumes of purple smoke, and the Amazing Amarettos, Carlo and Gomez, “magically” appear on the stage. They regale the crowd as they flourish their capes, twirl their wands, and tip their top hats to the audience in perfectly coordination with each other. Their lovely assistant Suzie steps out through the entry-way in a rather normal, non-magical fashion, and her eyes roll back as she holds out her arms in a half-assed show of presentation. The brothers pose with absolute pomp and majesty before all three make their way down to the ring.
The Amarettos perform all manner of magic tricks as they walk down the ramp, conjuring up all manner of cards, quarters, scarves, confetti, pigeons, and flower bouquets seemingly out of thin air. Carlo and Gomez climb up to the ring from opposite corners and converge at the center of the apron, where they take Suzie by either hand and delicately “levitate” her off the floor, over the ropes, and into the ring before stepping through the ropes themselves. With all three in the ring, they again pose majestically for the audience.
Howley: Here come these two fine athletes.
Moss: They’re Magicians.
Howley: Yeah the only magic you’re gonna witness is their greatness.
The familiar guitar licks and drum beats to “Nothin’ But a Good Time” by Poison hit your eardrums and from the back bounds Bowie Abrams and Bradlee Nelson in matching long tights and miles-wide smiles. They play to the studio audience, getting them into the show as they make their way to the ring. Once they’re between the ropes, they’ll flex and pose a bit for the laaaaadies before the bell rings.
Moss: These two are making their debut here tonight with a chance to compete for the Titles in a few weeks time.
Howley: It’s balderdash! The Amarrettos should already BE in that match and it’s a disgrace.
Moss: Well that’s not the case. Looks like Bowie and Gomez are going to start off the match.
As the bell rings the two men come face to face. A quick flex from Bowie as Gomez waves him off. And with the quickest of hands produces a small bouquet of flowers. Bowie looks on in amazement when he is smacked across the face. Bowie chops the chest of the muscular surfer. As he recoils backwards Gomez advances and lands a stiff knee to the stomach and grabs an arm. Whipping Bowie into the ropes. Gomez goes for a lariat but Bowie sucks under and rebounds back as Gomez goes for a back body drop, but yet again Bowie leaps over him. Gomez begins to get frustrated, as Bowie leaps towards him and hits a cross body. Bowie lays on top of him and hooks a leg.
1!
Moss: Quick KICKOUT by Gomez.
Gomez crawls towards Carlo and his outstretched arm. They are inches apart when Bowie grabs his leg and drags him to the middle of the ring. Gomez kicks his legs wildly to free himself and ends up knocking Bowie to the mat with an errant kick. Gomez mounts Bowie and begins to hammer away, when the ref admonishes him for hitting with closed fists. Gomez holds his hands up and makes his way to his corner. Tagging in Carlo as Bradlee reaches his hand out for his partner. Gomez rushes at Bradlee and knocks him off the apron as Carlo grabs Bowie and lifts him to his feet. Holding both arms behind him Gomez punches Bowie repeatedly in the gut. Until Bradlee grabs Gomez by the ankle and drags him out of the ring.
Moss: The ref needs to get control of this match. Two men are fighting outside and two on the inside.
Howley: I hate to agree with you, but your right.
Carlo drops Bowie to the mat and locks in a sleeper hold. On the outside Bradlee shoves Gomez back to his side of the ring. As the ref checks on Bowie. Before the ref can check Bowie riles himself up as the crowd begins to get on their side. With a back elbow to the gut of Carlo he releases the hold. Carlo whips Bowie quickly into the ropes, as Bradlee reaches and blind tags himself into the match.
Moss: I don’t think the ref saw that.
As Bradlee gets into the ring and clotheslines Carlo to the mat and then as Gomez attempts to get in does the same to him, as Bowie rolls out to the floor winded. As Bradlee is getting g fired up, Gomez rolls under the bottom rope and rolls Bowie back into the ring. Bradlee goes to grab Carlo but the ref stops him.
Howley: That’s right! Get out of the ring and tag in the right way!
Moss: It’s not his fault the ref didn’t see it.
Bradlee is furious. Stomping around the ring pleading his case, feverishly trying to explain what happened. Meanwhile the Amaretto’s are stomping on the body of Bowie. The two men leap high into the air, landing hard together with their elbows firmly planted in the sternum of Bowie.
Moss: Amazing Atom-Smasher!
Howley: Yes! Justice!
As Bradlee is climbing out of the ring, Gomez runs behind him and knocks him from behind, knocking him hard into the guard rails. Gomez slides out of the ring as the ref turns his attention to Carlo who has both legs hooked on Bowie.
One!
Moss: Not like this!
Two!
Three!
Howley: And the Amaretto’s advance to face off for the Tag Team Titles!
Robbins: The Winners of this matchup, and going onto SLAM-A-THON, THE AMAZING AMARETTOS!
Moss: Don’t sleep on Surf Express Bro, they had a heck of a debut here tonight! I’m excited to see them get another crack at it.
Inside the ring the Amarettos stand together with their assistant. Carlo throws down a smoke bomb but it’s not large enough, we can still see all three bail out of the ring. They get back together outside and pose. The fans boo loudly.
Exciting Developments
We move back over to Otto Price who is back behind his podium once more. He looks to the curtain and waits for a second before turning back and speaking.
Otto Price: Just making sure we’re not going to have any interruptions again Classic Wrestling fans. Earlier tonight we announced the Tag Team Championships before they were so rudely taken from this podium by The Foreign Legion… We do apologize for that folks!
The fans boo in response. The Foreign Legion are jerks!
Price: I wasn’t quite done with my announcements then Classic Wrestling fans, I’ve got a few more BIG ANNOUNCEMENTS TO SHARE!
The fans now come alive with applause. Otto gets visibly excited.
Price: As many of you already know, at our big Pay Per View, SLAM-A-THON we’re going to see the crowning of our very first REAL WORLD’S CHAMPION, we’re also going to see the TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS decided in a matchup featuring, as we just found out, The Amazing Amarettos! Well we’ve got one more championship to toss into that mix! At SLAM-A-THON we’re going to see a final title awarded, my sources revealed to me!
Howley: Again with the sources! Tell us who it is, or you made it up!
Moss: Shhhhh. I believe him!
Otto holds up an index card.
Price: THis will be known as the PREMIER AMERICAN CHAMPIONSHIP, and it will be a championship showcasing some of the VERY BEST talent here in CLASSIC WRESTLING! The incredibly exciting news gets even better wrestling fans! It will be decided in a 6 man OVER THE TOP ROPE BATTLE ROYAL! Tune in here next week on Classic Wrestling on RBTV to find out WHO the six competitors will be!
Moss: That is huge news!
Howley: All the gold is on the line at SLAM-A-THON!
Price: ...And finally we’re going to meet someone new next week! The sources of all this information WILL BE REVEALED! When we say hello to the new man in charge around here!
The fans cheer loudly, while asking each other who they think it is.
Howley: New man in charge!? Are you telling me I didn’t get the job?
Moss: It doesn’t seem so Thunderbird! We’re going to find out right here next week! Make sure you tune in folks same time, same channel, right here on RBTV!
Lord Colossus vs Randall Schwartz (Round 2 WTT)
The artillery rumble of Lemmy’s bass being played with amphetaminic fury announces the “Ace of Spades.” Walter Whezl steps out sneering at the crowd, brandishing his umbrella with all the menace his sub six foot frame can generate, his black and white face paint garishly painted into a ghoulish frown.
The jeers as expected are raucous and almost celebratory.
They become noticeably quieter quite quickly.
Lord Colossus.
Wearing full battle regalia, and carrying a broken length of chain in a gloved hand.
Whezl makes his way to the podium and quickly produces his Pile of Papers from his jacket. Resting his umbrella against the ground like a cane, he waves them threateningly at the crowd.
Whezl: TONIGHT! The WHOLE of Classic Wrestling bears witness to these binding documents.
He unfolds them as though they were holy sacrament.
Whezl: What I have here is a WRIT OF BANISHMENT, keeping the felonious malefactor known as King Kong Frank, from ringside where he would otherwise threaten MY person!
A large, gauntleted hand comes down like a boulder onto his shoulder. Whezl squeals.
Whezl: Yes Yes! And you shall keep your hands off of the person of Lord Colossus!
Lord Colossus: THE CHAINS KING KONG FRANK THAT BIND. HAVE BEEN SEVERED. WITNESS NOW THE CHAOSCHASM OPENING ITS MAW, TEETH GRINDING TO BE SERVED RANDALL SCHWARTZ!
Lord Colossus marches down to the ring, casting the heavy length of chain at the feet of Walter Whezl, who does his best to scramble and pick it up. He follows down as Lord Colossus lumbers to the ring.
Colossus steps over the top rope and moves to his corner, removing the spiked gorget and gloves before handing them off to Whezl, who places them reverentially off to the side under Lord Colossus’ watchful eye.
Howley: Something about this Walt Whezl is just off, Moss.
Moss: You can say that again, Thunderbird!
“March and Fanfare” plays, sending the crowd into a big chorus of jeers as Randall Schwartz makes his way to the ring flanked by a pair of local security as he taunts the crowd, threatening to sue anyone who touches him before he approaches the ring. Schwartz climbs the steps and hops into the ring where all at once he falls under the glare of the cold dead stare of Lord Colossus and realizes that his security goons have absolutely not followed him into the ring.
Howley: I think Schwartz just peed his pants, Moss!
Moss: Yeah, I got nothing.
The introductions are made, Colossus hasn’t moved a muscle since Schwartz entered the ring. For his part, Randall Schwartz hasn’t stopped fidgeting the entire time either. The referee calls for the bell.
DING! DING!! DING!!!
Lord Colossus stands his ground as Schwartz does everything in his power to psych himself up, finally taking a running start at the big man and throwing the hardest clothesline he can muster at the Walking Calamity in front of him.
Howley: Mistake!
Schwartz’s arm bounces off of LC’s abdomen and contorts at a somewhat ridiculous angle, sending Schwartz to the mat in a fit of agony that only serves to showcase his acting chops.
Moss: It’s gonna take a lot more than that to phase the giant Colossus!
After throwing a mini-tantrum and threatening to sue every last audience member that laughed at his misfortune, Schwartz managed to take his feet again. Lord Colossus has still not so much as flinched a muscle. After much contemplation, he cocks his head somewhat inquisitively as Schwartz dusts himself off and prepares to make another go of it.
Howley: Nothing about this is gonna end well, Moss.
Moss: You can say that again…
Taking his sweet time making up his mind on a plan of attack, Schwartz finally approaches Colossus, lines him up, and fires off the very spiciest knife-edged chop that he can muster. To his credit the chop sounds reasonably painful. Lord Colossus flexes his pectorals and you can almost feel the maniacal grin forming behind his mask.
Schwartz chops at Colossus again.
And again.
…and again.
The tiniest of welts appears on the chest of the Apocalypse Bringer and he lets loose an uproarious and downright scary belly laugh. At ringside Walt Whezl matches him with a cackling falsetto. That’s when things start to go wrong for Randall Schwartz.
Howley: Here we go, Moss, it’s about to get ugly! Well, uglier…
With a quickness that defies logic, Lord Colossus shoots a meaty arm out and grabs Schwartz by the crown of the head, lifts him about three feet in the air, and straight tosses him all the way across the ring into the corner turnbuckles! LC charges in to follow up but by the grace of whatever God that Schwartz prays to he somehow manages to duck under the behemoth’s grasp and dive out of the way at the last possible moment.
Moss: There he goes, Thunderbird, running for his life!
Howley: In all my years in the ring I don’t think I ever came up against a psychological horror on the scale of Lord Colossus, Moss, I can only imagine what Schwartz is going through in there! Then again, I’m not a scared little girl either, so…
Speaking of scared, Schwartz takes off like a shot across the ring, sliding to the outside to get away from the onslaught that is Lord Colossus. He receives no quarter, though, as the big man is just as quick to drop down and roll out of the adjacent side of the ring. Schwarts moves to take off again only for Walt Whezl to do his best to slow the Entertainer down!
Moss: Schwartz with the juke move on Walt Whezl!
Howley: He crossed him up, Moss!
Lord Colossus isn’t far behind as Schwartz rounds the corner and picks up a head of steam. He takes another corner before diving underneath the bottom rope, scrambling to his feet, and taking off again, hitting the opposite ropes just as LC follows him back into the ring! Schwartz throws the lowest dropkick in the history of dropkicks and catches Colossus right in the head and shoulder as the big man attempts to regain a vertical base. Proud of himself Schwartz prances around the ring, pointing to his temple and decrying himself the smartest man in Classic Wrestling!
Moss: If he’s not careful-
Howley: Shh! Let it happen, Moss, let it happen.
And boy, does it ever happen! Just as Schwartz turns back toward Colossus a giant catcher’s mitt of a hand wraps around his throat! From one knee Lord Colossus delivers a chokeslam that rocks the entire ring and sends Randall Schwarts flailing around the ring like a fish out of water! From ringside Walt Whezl screeches encouragement at his charge.
Whezl: FINISH HIM, OH MIGHTY COLOSSUS!
The Towering Inferno reaches down and grabs Schwartz by the head again, this time stuffing it between his legs in a mighty standing leg scissors. LC drags a thumb across his neck in a cutthroat motion before easily gripping Schwartz and bulling him up ten feet in the air before sending him crashing back down to the mat.
Moss: VOOOOLT THROWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!!!
Howley: RANDALL SCHWARTZ IS DEAD!
Lord Colossus plants a mighty boot on Schwartz’s chest. The referee, having no recourse but to count the pinfall, dives into position and slaps the mat as quickly as is legally possible in the parameters of a wrestling contest.
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
DING! DING!! DING!!!
The referee attempts to raise the victorious arm of Lord Colossus and finds himself on the business end of a Colossal glare for his troubles before deciding to bail before he finds himself in the same position as Randall Schwartz.
Howley: I don’t think he’s done, Moss!
Moss: I don’t either, Thunderbird…
He is not. Colossus reaches down and grabs Schwartz one more time by the head and lifts his limp body up into another standing scissors.
And then all hell breaks loose.
🎜Stranglehold🎝
Ted Nugent’s seminal shredding classic rips through the studio.
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!
Moss: KING KONG FRANK IS HERE!
Frank bellows a battle cry as he steps out onto the stage, his own length of chain hanging from one hand as he hoots and hollers and makes his way toward the ring.
Howley: What in the world Whezl doing?
The scrawny spectacle of a man that is Walt Whezl, either overestimating his own abilities or underestimating King Kong Frank’s chaotic nature, starts brandishing his Writ of Banishment papers at Frank. This is met with a guttural howl from the Smoky Mountain Mastodon.
Moss: Looks like he’s trying to serve Frank with papers?
Howley: Are you kidding me? That hillbilly can’t read!
Moss: Says who?
Howley: Just look at him, Moss, does that scream “education” to you?
As if to answer Thunderbird directly, Frank reaches up and grabs Whezl’s Writ of Banishment and takes a giant bite out of it! He then starts whipping that chain around like a maniac and Walt just barely manages to dive out of the way as Frank makes a bee-line for the ring, where Lord Colossus has since discarded of Randall Schwartz and made ready for the fight to come.
Frank steps over the ropes, brandishing his chain like a weapon, and the two giant grapplers begin circling, each man taking the measure of the other. Whezl, keenly aware of his responsibilities, scrambles over to where he’d left Lord Colossus’s own broken length of chain and picks it up with all of his might and slides it into the ring for the Mayhem Machine to reach down and grab, which he does, and now we’ve got two crazy dangerous men weilding chains and ready to go to war.
Moss: This is ludicrous! Somebody get some security out here!
Howley: What’s the matter, Moss, scared of gettin’ a little blood on ya?
Moss: No, Thunderbird, but I don’t want to see two of Classic Wrestling’s top wrestlers beating each other into oblivion tonight either!
🎜A Country Boy Can Survive🎝
Before Frank and Colossus can get at one another the Texas Stampede himself, Gordy Lovett, has hit the ring and clobbered King Kong Frank over the back of the head with the bell attached to his bull rope! Hank, Jr. provides the soundtrack to an ass-kicking as before anybody can so much as react Gordy is literally whipping Frank with the very same rope.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Howley: Get it, Gordy! GET IT! Tan that hillbilly’s hide!
Moss: Wait a minute! I thought Gordy and Frank were old friends?
Howley: That’s what you get for thinkin’, Moss! Looks like to me that Doris Hilton’s influence on Gordy Lovett is finally startin’ to take!
Moss: This is just disgusting all the way around.
Howley: Yeah, well, business in that squared-circle ain’t always pretty, Moss, you’d know that if you’d ever stepped your lilly-white behind in between the ropes!
Doris Hilton makes her way to ringside to oversee the festivities and shares a conspiratory nod with Walt Whezl on the opposite side of the ringside area.
Moss: Hold the phone, did you see that, Thunderbird?
Howley: I didn’t see nothin’ Moss, and neither did you, so SHADDAP!
Lord Colossus cocks his head. He shows no outward emotion, but makes no move to either stop Gordy from attacking Frank or join in on the felonious assault. After a moment of consideration the Monolithic Masochist turns and steps over the top rope and out of the ring before dropping down to Whezl’s side. The two of them collect LC’s things and leave the ringside area as inside the ring Gordy Lovett has wrapped his bull rope around Frank’s face and neck and is pulling back with everything he’s got, stretching Frank’s neck and rope-burning his face and choking him half to death all at the same time.
Finally a cadre of referees hit the ring and do their absolute best to pry Gordy Lovett off of King Kong Frank with very little success. The camera cuts back to the commentation station as Gordy gives a bellowing belly laugh and finally releases his death grip on Frank.
Moss: It’s been a chaotic night tonight, folks, but we’re out of time! Freddy Kilgore and Lord Colossus will move on to the tournament semi-finals next week to join Johnny Saint Nelson and Alex Bruder as we move one step closer to crowning the REAL WORLDS CHAMPION!
Thunderbird hits the double-bicep pose.
Howley: Until then, it’s been your pleasure to have me on the broadcast!
He then kisses each bicep.
Moss: He’s Thunderbird Howley, I’m Patrick Moss, GOODNI-
End.