Back again from commercial break and Fenderbender Jones is already in the ring. The journeyman grappler does a few last minute stretches to be as ready as possible for the onslaught he’s about to attempt to weather.
Howley: Fenderbender Jones is about to be in for a rough night at the office…
Moss: Oh?
Howley: I saw Frank earlier this afternoon, and I can tell you that the Smoky Mountain Mastodon was not, is not, and ain’t gonna be in a good mood here tonight!
Moss: Is he ever?
Howley: This is different.
🎜Stranglehold🎝
“HOOOOOOOOO-AAAAAAAAAH!!! HUSS!”
King Kong Frank erupts into the ringside area with violence dripping from his pores. His trusty length of chain is nowhere to be seen tonight and his general theatrics at a bare minimum. The Appalachian Nightmare is in no mood for any bullshit this evening as he climbs up onto the ring apron and then steps over the top rope like it’s nothing.
Robbins: And the opponent-
Frank: HUSS!
The Hillbilly Apocalypse barks at the ring announcer and stalks past him directly across the ring and toward Fenderbender Jones. Harold Robbins barely found the wherewithal to dive out of the ring before becoming a case of human collateral damage! The referee hesitates slightly but calls for the bell.
DING! DING!! DING!!!
Howley: Jones is about to die.
Moss: HERE WE GO!
The smaller, more agile Jones does his best to sidestep the oncoming chaos that is King Kong Frank, and he’s almost successful. Almost, however, only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, and King Kong Frank doesn’t often miss. He grabs Jones by the head and shoulders and manhandles him around toward the center of the ring where he pushes with the fury of a thousand exploding stars until he backs Jones over the ring ropes.
Frank: HUSS!
And then he caves in Jones’ chest with an overhand chop from his catcher’s mitt of a hand. Every fan in the studio winces in pain as Fenderbender struggles for oxygen. Frank barks at him again and again before turning and just chunking him face first into the top turnbuckle.
Howley: Ya know, I almost feel bad for Fenderbender here…
Moss: You absolutely do not!
Howley: Yeah, when you’re right, you’re right.
Frank grabs him by the back of the head, rares back, and smashes him right back into the turnbuckle again! Jones tries to escape but Frank grabs him again and walks him down the length of the ropes before launching him face first again into the next turnbuckle as well!
Moss: This isn’t a wrestling match Thunderbird, it’s a mauling!
Howley: You’re right, Moss! Jones is on DREAM STREET!
Frank clubbers at him a few more times over the back and shoulders before whipping the opponent across the ring at the ropes and then catching him with a big ol’ calloused bare foot to the face on the return!
Frank: HUSS! HUSS! HUSS!
The fans in attendance get it on the action too.
“HUSS! HUSS! HUSS!”
Frank grabs him like a sack of manure, straight lifting Jones up from the mat into an awkward position over his massive shoulders before parading around the ring for a moment and then sending him down hard, back first, right in front of the corner nearest the podium and the commentation station at ringside.
Moss: That had to hurt! Frank’s gonna put his man in traction if he keeps this up!
The barefoot brawler stands up and howls.
The Classic Connoisseurs in the studio are going bananas!
Frank steps back over the ropes to the apron before haphazardly climbing the turnbuckles and hurling himself off the top ropes before he can lose his balance and fall,and he lands a knee across Fenderbender’s chest that drives the rest of the air and any of the fight right out of the man! He is literally a grease stain on the mat at this point.
Howley: MKD!!!
Moss: MOUNTAINTOP KNEE DROP!
Howley: Somebody get a spatula out here so we can scrape this kid off the mat!
The referee is quickly in position for the count, but it’s all academic and everybody in the ring, in the studio, and watching along at home knows it.
One…
Two…
THREE!!!
DING! DING! DING!
Moss: What an impressive victory!
Howley: I mean I guess. Fenderbender Jones isn’t exactly Lord Colossus ya know!
Moss: If I’m being honest, I’m not sure it makes much of a difference to Frank.
Howley: Facts.
Frank stands up and hoots, taking a moment to grab Jones and chuck him from the ring like a sack of manure. Harold Robbins at ringside goes into his announcement.
Robbins: YOUR WINNER-
But Frank ain’t havin’ any of that. He reaches down a massive hand and plucks the microphone out of Robbins’ hand like one would take a lolly from a baby. Harold Robbins doesn’t protest, not one little bit.
Frank: SHADDAP YA DAMN HIPPY! They all got eyes, they saw who won!
A whoop from the crowd goes up and a crowd chant picks up some momentum.
“KING! KONG! FRANK!”
“KING! KONG! FRANK!”
“KING! KONG! FRANK!”
Frank: GORDY BAH-GAWD LOVETT! GIT YER DAIRY-FARMIN’ BEHIND OUT HERE!
A moment passes.
No Gordy Lovett.
This incenses the Appalachian Nightmare.
Frank: What’s the matter BAWH? If’n ya SCARED then say ya SCARED!
Frank starts to pace, the bad intent radiating off of him like stink on a turd.
Frank: I SAID GIT YER YELLA-BELLIED BACKSIDE OUT HERE!
What he gets instead of Gordy Lovett is the grim facade of Gruff Myers. Still without a microphone Gruff bellows his gravelly voice at Frank.
Gruff: Now that’s about enough of that, Frank!
Frank: Where is he? You tell’at ugly son-of-a-
Gruff: I ain’t your errand boy, Frank, and I ain’t in the habit of passin’ messages back and forth between two grown ass men that have a mind to trade hands’! On that note, what I’m here to tell YOU is if YOU lay another hand on Gordy Lovett before you get a sanctioned match against him I’m gonna be forced by the commission to SUSPEND you from Classic Wrestling!
Frank: WHAT?! He put his dang hands on ME! I was just gonna-
Gruff: You were about to interfere in a tournament match, Frank, and I can’t have that! We ain’t like all them other companies out there that let their boys run wild an’ do whatever they want! We got RULES here in Classic Wrestling and you’re gonna learn to follow those rules or you’re gonna be out of a job, Frank! It’s as cut and dry as that!
Inside of the ring King Kong Frank is fit to be tied. Gruff absently wonders if he should have brought a few zip-ties with him for just such an occasion.
Frank: You ain’t gonna let me put hands on them what put hands on me?
Gruff: That’s where you’re wrong, Frank! If, and I can’t stress that word enough… IF you can play by the rules, I’ll let you take care of your business right there inside of that Classic wrestling ring! As a matter of fact, the commission is just as ready for this business between you and Lord Colossus to be over as you are to put your mitts on him! With that in mind, and with how his match tonight against Rush Starling went down, I’ve decided that at SLAM-A-THON it’s gonna be King Kong Frank takin’ on Lord Colossus, one-on-one! Maybe then you two can get all of this mass chaos out of your systems!
The fans in the Classic Wrestling Studio, stand up and cheer at that announcement.
Frank: WELL ALL-DAGGUM-RIGHT! That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!
Gruff: But Frank, if you step out of line and get yourself disqualified I’m gonna have to suspend you from action for thirty days! You got that?
Frank: Fine, I reckon I can work with that…
Gruff: And one last thing, Frank. Since you’ve got something of a reputation for ignoring rules, consequences, and being a general pain in the rear end, I’m assigning a special RINGSIDE ENFORCER to the match to keep an eye on you.
Frank: WHAT? WHO?
Gruff: The same guy who did such a good job of keeping you from interfering earlier tonight! THE TEXAS STAMPEDE GORDY LOVETT!
Frank: ARE YOU KIDDIN’ ME HOSS? IS YOU IN CAHOOTS WITH THAT DORIS HILTON NIGHTMARE OF A WOMAN?
Gruff: Frank I swear to God if you ever insult my integrity like that again I’ll come in that ring and whip your big ass myself! I ain’t in cahoots with nobody but CLASSIC WRESTLING and Gordy Lovett is there to DO A JOB, and nothing else! And just like for you Frank, if Gordy steps outta line there’ll be CONSEQUENCES for him, too!
Frank continues pacing, he ain’t exactly happy, but he ain’t exactly mad either. Finally, Gruff Myers cracks a smile.
Gruff: Now come on, boy, I know you got some beers back in the locker room! Come on backstage and have yourself a few before you blow yer gasket and tear my whole studio down around ya!
After another moment King Kong Frank finally relents. He leaves the ring and heads straight toward the back with Gruff less than two steps behind him.