Through the distraction of King Kong Frank and the brash velocity of Scott Hunter’s wit and presence, the diminutive Huginn and Muninn, collectively known as The Bolts, find themselves standing in the center of the ring. There is no Walt Whezl, no Lord Colossus.
There is certainly a void, only not thee void, ya dig?
“SHAZAM~!”
The magic word is accompanied by a theatrical puff of smoke.
Also probably a bunch of mirrors.
KKF: I ain’t fer all this hoodoo magick hullaballoo! Gives me the heebee-jeebees!
Next thing anybody knows Carlo and Gomez are not only inside the ring, but each Amazing Amaretto is perched atop an opposing turnbuckle with their tag title belts gleaming and holding the most broad of “ta-da” poses. There is an overly-sized padded neck brace wrapped securely around Gomez’s neck, likely the result of being strangulated by King Kong Frank at Classic 19. The bell is called for.
DING! DING!! DING!!!
Hunter: To be fair, you don’t like anything but moonshine and dirty feet!
Howley: HA! You tell ‘em, Scott!
Moss: Joel!
Howley: What? Where’s the lie?
Inside the ring the match plays out about like you’d expect. The Amarettos’ speed and guile have got the Bolts looking like a couple of confused toddlers with two left feet out there. Throw in a splash of twin-magic and a heaping helping of misdirectional prestidigitation and it’s not long before Carlo’s got Huginn isolated in the Amarettos corner and the tag champs really start going to work.
Moss: I’ll say this about the Amarettos, they may not always follow the rules as written, and sometimes I think they cheat just to see if they can get away with it, but you won’t find a better-prepared tag team anywhere in CLASSIC Wrestling!
Hunter: I beg to differ! I personally belong to one-half of the greatest tag team of all time! Not only that, but I can all but GUARANTEE a Tag Team Title run by the end of the year, nay the month!
Howley: You an’ what army, kid? You ain’t even got a partner!
Hunter: Bah! Semantics…
Meanwhile, the Amarettos continue putting on an exhibition in tag team wrestling, completely out-classing the Bolts at every turn. At one point Muninn almost gets in an offensive hold, but Gomez bamboozles him right back into the corner where Carlo is ready with an extended hand for the tag and the double-team is on!
KKF: I don’t get it. Why don’t one’a them gimpy lookin’ fellers just pick up somethin’ big and smash it over one’a them Harry Potter dorks’ big ugly head?
Hunter: Well, far be it for me to assume, but wouldn’t that go against the rules?
KKF: The whats?
Hunter: The rules. Of engagement. The entire reason for the referee? None of this sounds familiar to you?
Frank shrugs.
KKF: Reckon I just like to rassle, ain’t never paid no attention to no rules!
Howley: That explains a lot.
Moss: Thunderbird!
Howley: What? It does!
More fancy and fantastical offense ensues inside the ring and before long each Amazing Amaretto is perched atop an opposite turnbuckle.
Hunter: Is this bunch of smoke and mirrors really the best representation of tag team wrestling here at CLASSIC? I mean really?
KKF: Gol’dang buncha HOODOO SORCERY iff’n ya ask me!
Hunter: Which, you may note, I did not.
Gomez and Carlo both leap in unison. If anybody liked the Amarettos this is where you’d see flashbulbs popping in the background. Nobody likes them, though, so what you do see is a bunch of people with boo-boo faces getting ready to heckle the tag team champs!
Moss: AMAZING ATOM SMASHER! It’s all academic now!
KKF: Ol’ Frank didn’t see no *accidents!* Looked like a couple’a highfalutin ELBOW DRAWPS to me! HEH-HAH! HUSS!
Hunter: I can’t… I absolutely can not.
Howley: Me either, kid. Me either.
The cover is made. The referee is in position.
1!
2!!
3!!!
DING! DING! DING!
Robbins: Your winners of the match, Carlo and Gomez, the AMAZING AMARETTOS!
There are boos.
But also, there are cheers.
Moss: There’s some commotion going on over by the-
Howley: It’s Haul and Gnash! The REPOSSESSED!
It absolutely is, and the two Post-Apoc Powerhouses make it very loud and very clear that they’re next in line for a shot at the CLASSIC Tag Team Titles!
Hunter: Oh, absolutely not! I called dibs last week!
Scott Hunter is up quicker than a hiccup, he doffs the headphones from the commentation station and makes off in the direction of the interloping Haul and Gnash.
KKF: DANGIT BOY! YOU AIN’T EVEN GOT NO PARTNER!
Meanwhile, inside the ring, the Champions are strongly implicating that there is absolutely no way that they’re defending against Repossessed.
Moss: This is getting out of hand!
KKF: HA! YOU AIN’T SEEN NUFFIN YET! HUSS!
Scott Hunter walks right up to Haul and jabs a finger into his chest.
Hunter: BACK OF THE LINE, BUB! I GOT DIBS!
Gnash trucks him.
The Amarettos point and laugh.
King Kong Frank gets serious.
KKF: Reckon I’mma go help the kid, beat me up another couple’a them whips an’ chains yay-hoos! They’s like a buncha dang ol’ palmetto bugs out there, prob’ly survive the dad-blasted ‘pacolypse just by hidin’ under a buncha rocks!
Frank wasn’t using headphones, and it doesn’t take him too many powerful steps before he’s standing right in front of both Haul and Gnash, daring either one of them to make a move! Scott Hunter scrambles to recover and before you know it the lightbulb goes off over his head, a very possible partner having presented himself at just the right time!
Howley: Looks like they’re about to kick it into high gear over a shot at the Tag Titles, Moss!
Moss: Speaking of, the Amazing Amarettos seem to have vanished into thin air!
Actually, they’re hiding underneath the ring. The champs bailed from the ring as soon as King Kong Frank stood up and they “magically” crawled under the ring where the plan was clearly to wait until a commercial break after the commotion to come out again.
“NOW YOU FOUR LISTEN HERE!”
Moss: That voice… it’s so… gruff.
Howley: That’s because it’s GRUFF MYERS!
Moss: The Commissioner is in the house tonight!
Gruff Myers: Y’all wanna fight?
That is an overwhelmingly enthusiastic quadruple yes.
Gruff Myers: Y’all want a shot at-
He points at the ring where the champs are not. Rolling his eyes, he gets back to the task at hand.
Gruff Myers: …at the Tag Team Titles?
More enthusiastic agreement, the fight has been momentarily forgotten.
Gruff Myers: Good! Great! Then as of right now, you can keep yer hands to yourselves!
Gruff has meanwhile managed to wedge himself bodily between the four men just in case the need to “handle business” should arise.
Gruff Myers: Because next week it’s gonna be you two…
He eyeballs the Reposessed.
Gruff Myers: Against you two!
Gruff’s gaze darts to Scott and Frank.
Gruff Myers: Winners get the Champs at CLASSICMANIA!
…and the crowd goes bananas.
Cut to commercial.