Howley: It’s about to get big and beefy in here, Moss!
Moss: Classic Wrestling: Where Big Beef Slappers Slap Big Beef!
Howley: Are you shootin’ a commercial on me, Moss?
Moss: I just call what I see, Thunderbird, you ought to know that by now…
The lights in the Gund Arena drop suddenly and the air goes out of the room. A hushed murmur grows rapidly into an anticipatory rumble from the Classic Connoisseurs in attendance this evening until the prefabricated sound of thunder claps through the P.A. system, accompanied by a simple but effective strobe effect in the lighting.
Howley: Hey! Who turned out the lights?
#Ace of Spades#
As the music begins to crescendo a single spotlight settles at the head of the loosely defined entranceway where Walt Whezl stands at the center of a swirling cloud of smoke, a visage of evil with his face painted into a ghostly black and white skull flecked at the temples with unsettling upside-down crosses. He carries his trademark black umbrella with its ornately carved Huginn/Muninn handle on full display and has a ¾ length black and red cape flowing maliciously over his bony shoulders and down his crooked back.
Moss: Could this guy get any creepier?
Howley: That’s a hard no, Moss.
Full of gusto and as much theatrical flair as he can muster, Walt throws the cape up over his right shoulder to produce an evil microphone complete with spikes and miniature skulls adorned to it for full effect. Walt bares his teeth and hisses into the microphone.
Whezl: Ladies and gentlemen… and I use those terms loosely… you are on the precipice of exposure to the mighty presence of the most fearsome force of nature yet to step foot into a Classic Wrestling ring! Know your places, fall to your knees, and bow your unworthy little heads as I present to you…
The billowing smoke parts like the Red Sea as the Monolith of Malevolence emerges through a black curtain in full battle regalia. With cold, dead eyes barely hidden by his black mask, the Walking Calamity stalks down the aisle and stops in front of Walt Whezl. Whezl averts his eyes immediately and bows as low as his spindly frame can support.
Whezl: The Master of Atrocity…
The music fades as the spotlight does its best to illuminate the looming monster.
Whezl: The Primarch of Depravity…
Thunder is once again accompanied by lightning.
Whezl: LOOOOOOORD COLOSSUUUUUUUUUUUUU-EEEEEEEK!!!
Walt shrieks like a scared little girl and dives out of the way, lucky to not be crushed by the stumbling Lord Colossus who now wears what’s left of a steel chair haphazardly around his neck! Standing just behind Colossus, who has gone down to one knee momentarily, is the wide-eyed Smoky Mountain Mastodon, King Kong Frank!
Frank: HOOOOOOOOOOOO-AHH! HUSS! HUSS!
Frank, armed with the element of surprise and a length of steel chain, plods over to where Walt Whezl is cowering in fear. Behind Frank, the momentarily felled Colossus unwraps the chair from around his head and pries his gauntlets off one by one before pulling off the spiked leather straps that cross his chest.
Howley: King Kong Frank is a maniac, Moss!
Moss: I think we can agree on that!
Howley: And now he’s stalking Walt Whezl like a cartoon bear after a picnic basket!
Frank wraps his chain around the throat of Walt Whezl and lifts him with one mighty hand! He bellows unintelligibly in Walt’s face before launching the diminutive manager into the crowd and out of his sight! The fans scatter, wholly unwilling to help Whezl even accidentally!
Moss: We need some security out here before somebody gets hurt!
Howley: He can’t put his hands on Walt Whezl like that!
Moss: Our independent panel of experts has concluded that Frank not only can but already has put his hands on Walt! Maybe that weasel shouldn’t insert himself into situations like this where he can’t possibly defend himself…
Howley: Where’s Gordy Lovett? Somebody get Doris on the phone!
As if on cue Lovett comes rambling out from the entrance curtain with Doris Hilton hot on his heels, chastising him for his tardiness to the event at hand. Gordy’s wearing a cut-off striped referee shirt under a leather vest and his usual black trunks and cowboy boots and he’s the most ridiculous-looking referee that you ever have seen!
Moss: Speak of the devil and he will appear?
Howley: Really, Moss? Lord Colossus is out here and you’re calling Gordy the devil?
Moss: It’s a figure of speech, Joel.
Before Gordy can get into the fray Lord Colossus, now fully recovered, is up and roaring at Frank as he grabs him bodily and sends him flying in the opposite direction that Frank tossed Walt. Colossus follows Frank into the crowd and a swirling ring of humanity opens up around the two mega-sized combatants as they jockey to gain control amidst the chaos.
Howley: I hope our insurance is paid up…
As the mass of humanity surges around the two behemoths Frank launches himself at Colossus, leading with a dirty bare foot! He connects flush on what would be a colossal chin if it weren’t for that black studded mask! The Lord doesn’t go down, though, only back into the writhing wall of flesh behind him.
Moss: I don’t know if kicking Lord Colossus in the face is the best way to go about this…
Howley: What would you know about the best way to do anything inside that ring, Moss? You lace ‘em up one day when was too busy clangin’ and bangin’ at the gym to pay attention?
Moss: You know very well that I didn’t.
Howley: Yeah, I just wanted to hear you say it!
Gordy Lovett barges into the space between Frank and Colossus and takes a quick survey of the situation. Somewhere behind him, lost in the crowd, Doris Hilton shrieks directions at her rambling Texan charge.
Gordy: GIT BACK!
The Cowpuncher spits chaw in every direction as he barks orders at the fans.
Gordy: I SAID GYIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!
A wider ring opens up around them and Colossus catches his feet and retaliates with an authoritarian double overhand chop that would crush the collarbones and ribcage of any normal man if he were to hit them with the fury and velocity that he just hit King Kong Frank! The Hillbilly Hero flails backward and into a trio of college-aged men all draped in Classic swag. They go down like bowling pins and Frank hits the deck, rolling through the next several rows of fans. Colossus presses the assault as Gordy Lovett makes a valiant attempt at crowd control and the actual match referee makes his first appearance and begins pleading with anybody to get the action out into the ring!
Moss: Gordy Lovett and Chip Newman are doing their best to get this match under control, Thunderbird, but it’s not looking like either man wants to take this fight into the ring!
Howley: And why should they? Once that bell rings they gotta abide by the rules! It’s more fun to beat a guy up without some pencil-necked geek yelling and ringin’ bells in your ear telling ya that ya gotta stop or that you lost, even if you’re kicking the guy’s butt!
Moss: This is supposed to be a sport!
Howley: Ha! We’re gonna see a bonafide grappling clinic later in the Main Event, Moss, that much you can better believe! But these two guys? They ain’t gonna stop until one of ‘em can’t get back up and throw another bomb!
Lord Colossus catches up to Frank and grabs him by the back of the head. Fans bail as Colossus heads toward the ring with Frank, stopping only once they’d made it through a sea of abandoned chairs and scattered concessions to the guardrail. Frank goes flying over the rail like some kind of a light-heavyweight by the hand of the raging Lord Colossus.
Moss: Maybe now we can get this thing in the ring!
Frank roars back to his feet as Colossus follows him over the rail one giant leg at a time. Before the larger man can continue the attack Frank throws a hard right hand that rocks the Colossal Conquerer in his tracks. He rares back and throws another wild haymaker, and another and another!
Gordy Lovett hurls himself over the guardrail behind them just in time for Frank to grab Colossus and whip him face-first into the apron before muscling the big man up and into the ring. Frank turns around and finds himself nose to nose with the Texas Stampede! Gordy smiles, points at the classic logo stitched into his referee’s tanktop, and smiles a tobacco-stained Cheshire grin!
Gordy: GO ON BOAH! HIT ME! AFTER I DISQUALIFY YA I’LL GET TO WHUPPIN’ ON YER BIG HILLBILLY ASS!
Frank vibrates with rage but manages to keep his wits about and turn around and roll into the ring. The problem with that is that Frank has taken his eye off the ball and given Lord Colossus the time and space necessary to shake loose any cobwebs and regroup for another attack! And attack he does, stomping heavy boots into the back and ribs of King Kong Frank as he tried to roll into the ring and get to his feet.
Chip Newman follows them into the ring and immediately calls for the bell!
DING! DING! DING!
Howley: Here we go, Moss! Colossus has Frank inside the ring, just like you wanted it!
Moss: Yeah, fair and square, right?
Doris Hilton joins Gordy at ringside as The Stampede stomps around and makes a general ruckus, but never takes his eyes off the action inside the ring! On the other side of the ring, Walt Whezl manages to find himself slinking over the rail himself and landing hard on the floor with a stainless steel thunk.
Inside the ring, Lord Colossus continues to drop hammers on the prone King Kong Frank. There’s nothing pretty about any of his offense, but it’s all one-hundred percent effective as he’s got one of the most widely known brawlers in the business down on all fours in front of him as he exerts his will over the entire situation.
Howley: This is gonna go one way, Moss, and it ain’t good for King Kong Frank!
The referee is on the mat, doing his best to check on the grizzled hillbilly, but Colossus is having none of it! He reaches down and Grabs frank by the head, lifting him and depositing him in the corner like a sack of potatoes. The Zebra tries to come between the two for at least long enough that Frank can stand up and defend himself but the Lord keeps moving forward.
Moss: Chip Newman had better be careful in there!
Colossus throws a huge overhand over Chip’s shoulder that shakes something loose and wakes Frank up! The Mastodon responds in kind with a big haymaker of his own! The two come together like an unstoppable force trying desperately to seduce an immovable object. Newman, having nowhere to go between them, finds himself caught in the melee. Neither man registers the existence of the referee and Chip eventually sort of crumples out of the fray and manages to roll under the ropes and out to the floor!
Howley: So much for that! And the rulebook!
Moss: Isn’t a situation like this exactly why Gordy Lovett is out there at ringside?
Howley: Come on, Moss! Gordy ain’t no trained referee! How’s he supposed to keep all the rules straight when two guys are tryin’ to tear each other’s arms off in right in front of him?
Moss: You’ve got an excuse for everything, don’t you?
Howley: It’s in the job description.
With every bit of effort that he can muster, Walt Whezl manages to make his way up the farside ring-steps with KKF’s discarded length of chain. Newman is oblivious and Gordy Lovett isn’t paying a lick of attention that far away from the action, but nothing gets past Doris Hilton. Just as soon as she sees that glint of steel from across the ring she’s in the ear of the Cowpuncher.
Doris: Get your butt in there!
Gordy puts it together and slides into the ring, but not before Walt Whezl can hand off the chain to the waiting hands of Lord Colossus, who deftly wraps it around his Volkswagen-sized fist and slams the steel hard into Frank’s forehead! A trickle of blood peeks out from Frank’s brow and Gordy is in the perfect position to call the infraction!
Moss: HE BLASTED FRANK WITH THAT CHAIN!
Moss: Ring the bell! That’s a disqualification!
Lovett does no such thing. Instead, he grabs at his eye and feigns blindness!
Gordy: I CAIN’T SEE! WHAT HAD HAPPENED?!
Howley: HAHA! I love it!
Moss: WHAT?! THIS IS TOO MUCH! THEY’VE GONE TOO FAR!
It’s not enough, though, because King Kong Frank has the hardest head in the business, and it’s gonna take more than one shot to the head to keep him down! The big beefy boy from the Great Smokies makes it back to his feet and he lunges at Gordy. Gordy sidesteps, though as Frank is still on Dream Street and not fully in control of his limbs or his actions. Gordy guffaws as Frank tries once more to pick himself up and turn to face his attackers. Colossus cocks his head inquisitively at the outstretched hand of Gordy but eventually hands over the length of steel that has opened up the Appalachian Nightmare.
Howley: Look at his head! Frank is busted open, Moss!
Moss: Ya think? They’re bordering on criminal assault out there!
Gordy takes his time wrapping his fist tightly as Frank stumbles to his feet. A single stream of blood flows down his forehead and into one eye, dripping off the tip of his nose as he tries to catch his breath, get himself together, and get his eyes to uncross. The time opportunity doesn’t exist though, as Gordy Lovett unloads a chained right hand of his own right between Frank’s eyes, immediately widening the gash inflicted by Lord Colossus! The blood begins to flow freely as Frank lands hard down on his back! Immediately his head is a red mess that may or not make it past the editor’s cutting floor for the eventual Classic Home Video release!
Howley: HERE WE GO NOW!
Moss: THEY’VE BUSTED KING KING FRANK OPEN!
Howley: This is RASSLIN’ the way we used to do it back in MY DAY, Moss!
But it isn’t.
And it’s for that reason that the bell rings aggressively at the behest of referee Chip Newman, who’s managed to pull himself up to his feet just in time to have the best view in the house of Gordy Lovett cracking King Kong Frank in the face with his chain-wrapped fist!
DING! DING! DING!
Howley: What’s going on, Moss?
Moss: Looks like Newman’s called it, Thunderbird!
Howley: Called what? For who? WHY???
Newman hobbles over to the timekeeper’s desk where he has a quick pow-wow with Harold Robbins and Gruff Myers who has been watching like a hawk from the moment that Frank wrapped a chair around Colossus’s head! Myers asks Newman a couple of hushed questions before giving the official decision to Robbins to make the announcement.
Robbins: Your winner, as a result of a DISQUALIFICATION…
Robbins: KING! KONG!! FRAAAAAAAAAANK!!!
There’s no rest for Frank, though, as the disqualification has incensed Lord Colossus and the massive Apocalypse Engine shoulders past the still laughing Gordy Lovett and grabs Frank by his bloodied mess of a head and pulls him up quickly into a standing leg-scissors. Colossus doesn’t waste a millisecond before he’s lifted Frank up over his shoulders and slammed him back down to the mat with a vicious snap Volt Thrower!
Howley: He put some stank on that one!
Doris and Walt have both entered the ring, shared a quick glance of collusion, and both began trying to get their charges to do as much damage as possible as quickly as possible!
Moss: This is a mugging Thunderbird!
Howley: What’d they expect, putting Gordy in charge of this?
At ringside Gruff Myers has called out the cavalry! Every referee and security goon in the building floods the ringside area, but the scene inside the ring stops any of them from putting themselves in that kind of harm’s way!
Moss: Somebody get in there and help Frank!
Howley: I don’t think Gruff pays enough for these guys to get splattered by Gordy and Colossus!
Moss: This is a travesty!
Howley: I don’t see you in there helping, Moss!
Having seen enough Gruff Myers narrows his eyelids and carefully takes off his wristwatch and hands it off to the timekeeper. He then unbuttons his sleeves and methodically starts rolling them up as he makes his way around ringside and starts climbing the steps. Before he can step foot into the ring, however, a metropolitan blur hits the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and getting to his feet before anybody can do anything about it!
Moss: That’s VITO VALENTINO!
Howley: WHAT’S METRO DOING BACK OUT HERE?!
Doris Hilton and Walt Whezl bail post-haste.
Moss: Is that a STICKBALL BAT that Valentino’s got?
Howley: It sure is Moss!
It certainly is, and Vito Valentino certainly knows how to use it! He winds back and takes a swing at Gordy Lovett, almost taking the Cowpuncher’s head off in the process! The big Texan bails between the ropes to regroup with Doris on the outside. Meanwhile Metro points his weapon of choice right in the direction of Lord Colossus, whose only reaction is the slight tilting of his head. It’s as if he’s considering crushing the life out of Valentino, or possibly having tea and scones, who knows am I right? Finally, at the behest of Walt Whezl, Colossus relents and takes a powder, allowing for Valentino to check on the still downed King Kong Frank and allowing Gruff Myers to get into the ring and regain a modicum of control.
Moss: That was a wild one, Thunderbird!
Howley: You can say that again! I can tell you this much, too, Vito Valentino just bit off a whole lot more than he can chew sticking his nose into Doris Hilton and Walt Whezl’s affairs!
Moss: You mean Gordy and Colossus?
Howley: You know what I meant, Moss!