Ripping bass riffs and a brief burst of snare lets the crowd know that “Ace of Spades” by Motorhead is playing. Walter Wehzl pops out from behind the curtain first, to a cavalcade of derision.
Moss: Here comes trouble!
Robbins: This is a first round matchup for the Real World’s Heavyweight Tournament! Coming to the ring first. He’s 7 feet tall, 350 pounds! He’s accompanied by Walt Wehzl, this is LORD COLOSSUS!
This hushes noticeably as Lemmy begins to intone about snake eyes watching you and Lord Colossus steps out. Wehzl points at the big man who is wearing a studded leather vest and armbands over his one-shoulder black wrestling singlet. Blonde curls poke out from under his leather hood under a 1970s style hockey mask. A Black Gorget wraps his throat. He slowly makes his way down to the ring, before handing off his vest and armbands to Wehzl, stepping _over_ the top rope and moving to his appointed corner.
Howley: Not someone you want to upset!
“Country Boy Can Survive” by Hank Williams Jr plays in the arena and everyone looks to the curtain. Instead from behind the crowd comes Gordy Lovett swinging a rope with a cowbell over his head. As it clangs against a few items, the fans realize the danger and scatter down the stairs.
Moss: Woah watch it!
With dip running down his chin the wild Texan eyes up his opponent before being joined by his representation.
Robbins: …And his opponent, He’s 6 feet 4 inches, weighing in at 241 pounds, hailing from Cut and Shoot, Texas! Accompanied by Doris Hilton! This is GORDY LOVETT!
Gordy bounds down the stairs and slides in the ring. He whips off his leather vest and spits his chew in the direction of Lord Colossus who just watches it fall at his feet.
The two Classic Grapplers finally come face to face in the center of the ring with no distractions and the referee calls for the bell!
Howley: Look at ‘em, Moss, they’re like two caged dogs just waiting to be unleashed!
DING! DING!! DING!!!
As soon as the bell tolls, Gordy reaches all the way back home to Cut and Shoot and hauls off and delivers the mother of all forearm shots to the chest of Lord Colossus. The giant cocks his head inquisitively. From ringside Walt Whezl shouts a few words at his charge.
Whezl: What are you waiting for? DESTROY HIM!
The switch flips somewhere deep behind his mask and the lights come on in the eyes of Lord Colossus as he erupts into action, kicking Gordy square in the gut and following up with a hard right hand. The referee looks like he wants to shout a warning to LC about that closed fist but in the end thinks better of it.
Moss: Come on, referee! You gotta make those calls!
Howley: Ha! That skinny twerp had better close his mouth and open his ears and wait for instruction from Walt Whezl if he knows what’s good for him!
Moss: You can’t be serious?
It’s Doris Hilton’s turn at ringside to shout encouragement to the stunned Gordy Lovett.
Doris: Get up, boy! Show ‘em why ya don’t mess with Texas!
Like the Yellow Rose of Texas Gordy stands up tall and once again goes face to face with the bigger, taller, giant of a dystopian nightmare in front of him.
Howley: Look Moss, he’s gonna reach up and kiss Lord Colossus on the chin!
Moss: Will you stop?! You’re getting ridiculous!
Howley: Ridiculous is my middle name, Moss, now keep it outta yer mouth and call the action!
Lovett hauls off and smacks Colossus right in his masked face.
The big man almost staggers backward for less than a split second. Rather than register the blow he sends a ballistic missile right back that jiggles Gordy’s jaw and ruffles his mustache!
Moss: These fans here in the Classic Wrestling Studio are solidly behind Gordy Lovett even though that manager of his is pacing back and forth with a scowl on her face a mile wide!
Howley: That’s because she knows that rodeo clown redneck doesn’t stand a chance against a walking world-breaker like Lord Colossus!
So does Colossus!
Having had enough, Lord Colossus lunges in with a rising knee to the breadbasket that quickly doubles the Texan over. LC follows it up with an elbow smash to the back of the neck that sends Gordy down flat on the mat. The fans in the Classic Studio are all over Lord Colossus as Whezl cackles along maniacally at ringside.
Whezl: FINISH HIIIIIIIM!
With absolutely zero acknowledgement to Whezl the Colossus reaches down and picks the Texas Stampede up by the ears and immediately stuffs Lovett’s head between his massive thighs in a standing leg-scissors. Slowly he raises one gauntleted arm to signal what could only be the mighty Volt Thrower!
Howley: This guy sure don’t work by the hour, Moss!
Doris Hilton screeches from the floor at Gordy Lovett and once again he comes alive pulls himself out of LC’s grasp just long enough to drop into a three-point stance and explode into the big man like a Center blocking for the game-winning two point conversion! He barrels Colossus all the way back into the corner where he then commences to peppering the masked monstrosity with all manner of haymakers!
Moss: LOOK AT GORDY GO!
Howley: He’s cheatin’ Moss! Look at all those closed fists!
Gordy pulls the big man out of the corner and shoots him off to the opposite ropes, Colossus comes back with a shoulder-block that shakes the ring!
Lovett backs into the ropes and launches off right back! Colossus swings and misses with a big clothesline as Gordy ducks under and launches himself against the opposite ropes only to find himself tripped from behind by an opportunistic Walt Whezl and stumbling right into the grasp of the masked behemoth in the center of the ring.
Moss: This doesn’t look good for the good ol’ boy from Texas!
Howley: You can say that again!
Lord Colossus thrusts Gordy’s head downward again, this time giving him no quarter and no room to wriggle his way out of the apocalyptic clutches of the annihilator extraordinaire! He grabs Gordy around the waist and muscles him up, holds them there for just long enough to let Gordy think about it before driving him into the mat with the powerbomb to end all power bombs!
Moss: VOLT THROWER! VOLT THROWER!
Howley: Stick a fork in him, Moss, he’s DONE!
Colossus drops down mechanically and covers Gordy without hooking a leg. The referee slides into position and slaps the mat like a man possessed.
DING! DING!! DING!!!
Harold Robbins: YOOOOOOOUR WINNER… LOOOOOOOORD COLOSSUUUUUUUUS!!!
Walt Whezl slides under the bottom rope and is right there to raise the arm of his mountainous marauder as well as shout down a verbal barrage at the fallen Gordy Lovett. Appalled and more than a little pissed off, Doris Hilton is up the ringsteps and under the middle rope in a flash, sticking a manicured finger directly into Walt Whezl’s face.
Doris: Back off, junior!
Whezl: Or what?!
Doris: Or I’ll-
The human catastrophe steps one giant, looming step in front of Walt. He cocks his head again, an inquisitive gaze burning in his eyes. Doris takes a step backward as Walt begins cackling again.
Moss: GORDY’S UP!
He is, and the first order of business is to grab Walt Whezl by the nape of the neck and the back of his pants and send him flying like DJ Jazzy Jeff out of the ring, complete with accompanying high pitched scream for his life. Satisfied, Gordy turns around to get him some more of Lord Colossus but only finds himself a boot to the gut for his troubles.
Howley: Here we go again, Moss!
Moss: VOOOOOOOLT THROOOOOOOWER!
Gordy crashes to the mat again, this time even harder than before!
Strangely, a roar of approval comes from the crowd.
Howley: Ha! These fans have already turned on Lovett! I love it! Get it, Moss?
Or, actually maybe not.
King. Kong. Frank!
Moss: IT’S FRANK! KING KONG FRANK IS IN THE RING AND HE’S GOT THE CHAIN!
With a redneck roar Frank starts unloading on the masked monstrosity with chain-wrapped right hands that sends him rocking back into the ropes. In a rare moment of lucidity Frank has an idea, and charges at Lord Colossus! He connects with a chain-assisted clothesline right across the massive chest of Colossus that sends him ass over teakettle, up and over the top rope to the floor.
Howley: HE LANDED ON HIS FEET!
Moss: THAT’S INCREDIBLE!
Frank bellows down at Colossus, who happens to have landed right beside his rag-dolled overseer. Sensing danger, Walt is up to his feet faster than ought to be possible and he’s doing everything in his power to keep the angry monolith from returning to the ring. After more than a little bit of cajoling Lord Colossus finally backs away, leaving King Kong Frank stomping around inside the ring and swinging his chain like a wild man.
Howley: He can’t do that to Lord Colossus, Moss!
Moss: You wanna go tell Frank he can’t do that?
Howley: Well… I mean… that is to say-
Before Thunderbird Howley can make any more excuses Frank reaches a long arm down and grabs the microphone right out of the hands of Otto Price. He hoots and he hollers and finally he comes to a stop and assaults the eardrums of every single person inside the Classic Studio.
KKF: Now you LIS’SN HERE YOU COLOSSAL PIECE OF CRAP! You ain’t seen the last of ol’ KING KONG FRANK! Not by a LONG SIGHT! I’mma take that big ugly melon of yers off yer stinkin’ shoulders and mount it on my wall AND THERE AIN’T A GYAT DANG THANG YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT!
The Smoky Mountain Savage resumes his stomping around the ring before bailing through the ropes and landing haphazardly on the floor, almost squashing Otto Price as he jabs the microphone back into his chest and makes his way not back to the dressing rooms, but through the assembled studio office and out a door with an exit sign glowing above it.
Inside the ring Doris Hilton has just about got Gordy Lovett back to his feet and he looks around in confusion, completely unaware of everything that’s happened after that second powerbomb.
Cut back to the commentation station where Joel Howley and Patrick Moss sit there stunned, neither man quite sure how to put into words that accurately describe the hurricane of chaos that is King Kong Frank. A moment passes before Moss shakes himself back into professionalism.
Moss: Ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna hear a word from our sponsors. We’ll be back with more Classic wrestling action on the other side of this break!