The two guards Gruff Myers had assigned to guard the door of King Kong Frank have been quite fervently eschewed. At present, both men find themselves lying on the ground, one examining the grey concrete at face level, the other helpfully placed head-first into a garbage can. Jutting out of the can, the legs kick comically.
Walt Whezl, sporting a freshly painted mug of ghoulish black and white greasepaint along with his usual theatrical attire, cackles like a mad man as he stands over the two downed crew members. Looming over the entire scene is Lord Colossus, heaving through barrel chest and enough leather to put make him PETA Public Enemy #1!
Lord Colossus: NOW. You WILL witness the reaping of the-
The Embodiment of Evil interrupts the Master of the Void, taking his life into his own spindly little hands.
Whezl: MY LORD! Do not allow these most vile croakers with their uncharitable prophecies to hear your most terrible and awesome proclamations. Let the advent of the black omen shine down upon King Kong Frank this very night!
The door, which had also been barred, now has two meatbrick hands placed on either side of the frame. Behind the Malevolent Megalith, the diminutive Walt Whezl jumps up in down in glee, his arms flailing with excitement
Whezl: YES! YES! Let King Kong Frank be placed upon the ultimate altar of Tehom! Let him be swallowed whole by that VERY serpentine double helix of acidic Eden!!!
With a particularly strong pull, the entire door frame comes out of the wall! Complete with the bar over the door!
A plume of drywall, dust, and debris clouds everything, settling slowly. Lord Colossus’ hand reaches towards a shape in the doorway. Behind him, Whezl feigns bravery, his evil Umbrella ready to spray black mist.
There’s only one problem.
King Kong Frank is not in the doorway!
It’s GRUFF MEYERS!
Gruff: He ain’t here, big boy, I already sent him to the ring. Figured on you comin’ here an’ doin’ just what you did, an’ now you an’ that weasel manager of yours’re gonna pay for every stitch of wood and drywall you just ripped out of the wall there!
Walt Whezl steps in front of the calamity of black omens. His eyes burn like void fire.
Whezl: No no my Lord NO!!!
Myers ignores Walt, speaking directly to Colossus instead.
Gruff: Look here. I know you wanna get your hands on Frank, and I can promise you that Frank wants to get his hands on you! But you two big ijits ain’t gonna tear this studio down around yer heads in the process!
Lord Colossus snorts derisively.
Gruff: Now I’m gonna talk to the commission, and I’m gonna get a match sanctioned between you two that’s worthy of every ounce of hatred that y’all got for one another! I already told Frank an’ I’m tellin’ you now, if either one of ya lays so much as one finger on each other or anybody else outside of a sanctioned match between now an’ then, not only is that match not gonna happen, but I’ll put ALL’A yer asses on the Bread Line! Got it?
Walt’s voice approaches a Halfordian Apex.
Whezl: Do not think that this… This… CHARADE WILL STAND. MY LAWYERS WILL HEAR OF THIS FRAUD! DECEPTION! HUCKSTERISM! CRONYISM!
Before he can continue he is cut off with a yelp as the crushing hand of Lord Colossus forcibly redirects the agitated little man in a new direction. Colossus, however, spares another look at Gruff, he raises a single finger in his direction.
Lord Colossus: Thermonuclear Serpents constrict you into the void, WORM!
Lord Colossus thunders away with Whezl in tow, the search for King King Frank given up for the time being.