AGGRESSION 51: The Heirs of Wrestling vs. Michael Bastard & Fusenshoff
- Thread starter DBrunkGXW
- Start date
TH
Active member
- Joined
- Jun 18, 2004
- Messages
- 2,953
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 42
- Location
- Philadelphia
- Website
- wallsofjerichoholic.blogspot.com
The scene is an abandoned warehouse. Michael Bastard sits on a stool in a corner, towel over his head, crouched over. The Amazing Logan, dressed in faded jeans, a Public Enemy (the rap group, not the tag team) t-shirt and cowboy boots, stands in the foreground.
TAL: It figures. A man appears on the scene who's too intense, too fear-inducing, too... real for mass consumption and the powers that be decide he needs to be held down. Michael Bastard, the new craziest bastard in wrestling, has hit the scene so hard and so fierce that Dan Ryan is trying to find new and inventive ways to keep him down, to break his spirit, to make sure he doesn't take over the promotion and scare away all those precious sponsors and fans who might cringe at the sight of a man who wouldn't mind tasting human flesh. The first injustice was letting Layne Winters' assault go unpunished. It's clear that the caliber of Champion in this promotion is no more than common coward, but I would expect that the greatest Champion this circuit and perhaps the wrestling industry has ever known would demand a little more respect from the men holding his titles. The second injustice was sticking Michael into a mixed martial arts match with no advance word, no time to prepare, nothing, against a man who competes in that arena regularly. You're lucky that Michael didn't disregard the situation completely, or else SWIFT, NGEN and whatever other companies that dinosaur Marx competes in would be pretty angry at you right now.
And now, we come to the third injustice, pairing Michael with a seemingly random tag team partner in Fusenshoff to feed to your up-and-coming hopeful future Tag Team Champions, the Heirs of Wrestling. I'm guessing you figure that my bloodthirsty student and that reckless lush would instantly clash, that the egos will explode and your Heirs will get the easy win. You sit there, grinning like the Chesire cat, thinking that your stroke of genius will be one more step towards breaking the spirit of Wrestling's Only True Sociopath into something a little more palatable for your fans. Well, Dan, I hate to inform you, but you're wrong. Dead wrong.
You see, I could start some superfluous conflict here. I could plant the seeds of dissention and like a clone of Michael Manson, I could go all in for ourselves here and demolish Fusenshoff as well as the Heirs. But I'm not. Just to spite you, I'm going to play ball, because that's what you don't want. I'm going to do my best to meet up with Fusenshoff and we'll formulate strategy. We'll go in with a plan and work as a cohesive unit. See, Michael and I aren't going to play your games. We are going to work within the system. Michael may be an agent of chaos, but he dispenses with said chaos on his terms, not yours.
The Heirs of Wrestling? Feh, they're just going to be unwitting victims, a team whose careers will end before they really start. Maybe then, you'll get the wakeup call that Michael Bastard isn't a man that you even attempt to hinder. No, you just give him opponents and get the hell out of his way. Because if you stand in his way, Dan, well, you're not going to like what happens next.
Logan knocks the camera over with his cane, the scene fades to static.
TAL: It figures. A man appears on the scene who's too intense, too fear-inducing, too... real for mass consumption and the powers that be decide he needs to be held down. Michael Bastard, the new craziest bastard in wrestling, has hit the scene so hard and so fierce that Dan Ryan is trying to find new and inventive ways to keep him down, to break his spirit, to make sure he doesn't take over the promotion and scare away all those precious sponsors and fans who might cringe at the sight of a man who wouldn't mind tasting human flesh. The first injustice was letting Layne Winters' assault go unpunished. It's clear that the caliber of Champion in this promotion is no more than common coward, but I would expect that the greatest Champion this circuit and perhaps the wrestling industry has ever known would demand a little more respect from the men holding his titles. The second injustice was sticking Michael into a mixed martial arts match with no advance word, no time to prepare, nothing, against a man who competes in that arena regularly. You're lucky that Michael didn't disregard the situation completely, or else SWIFT, NGEN and whatever other companies that dinosaur Marx competes in would be pretty angry at you right now.
And now, we come to the third injustice, pairing Michael with a seemingly random tag team partner in Fusenshoff to feed to your up-and-coming hopeful future Tag Team Champions, the Heirs of Wrestling. I'm guessing you figure that my bloodthirsty student and that reckless lush would instantly clash, that the egos will explode and your Heirs will get the easy win. You sit there, grinning like the Chesire cat, thinking that your stroke of genius will be one more step towards breaking the spirit of Wrestling's Only True Sociopath into something a little more palatable for your fans. Well, Dan, I hate to inform you, but you're wrong. Dead wrong.
You see, I could start some superfluous conflict here. I could plant the seeds of dissention and like a clone of Michael Manson, I could go all in for ourselves here and demolish Fusenshoff as well as the Heirs. But I'm not. Just to spite you, I'm going to play ball, because that's what you don't want. I'm going to do my best to meet up with Fusenshoff and we'll formulate strategy. We'll go in with a plan and work as a cohesive unit. See, Michael and I aren't going to play your games. We are going to work within the system. Michael may be an agent of chaos, but he dispenses with said chaos on his terms, not yours.
The Heirs of Wrestling? Feh, they're just going to be unwitting victims, a team whose careers will end before they really start. Maybe then, you'll get the wakeup call that Michael Bastard isn't a man that you even attempt to hinder. No, you just give him opponents and get the hell out of his way. Because if you stand in his way, Dan, well, you're not going to like what happens next.
Logan knocks the camera over with his cane, the scene fades to static.
- Joined
- Feb 4, 2005
- Messages
- 1,143
- Points
- 38
(FADE-IN, *****ES… wait, sorry. Bitches: Fade in on a tram riding over the Sandia Mountains in New Mexico. Yeah, it’s a little far away, but the Heirs… okay, Ryan driving decided to take a detour because he wanted to proclaim his awesomeness from the mountain tops, so here we are.
Standing outside a gigantic fountain in the lobby are none other than my children… er, your heroes, The Heirs of Wrestling! Frank Pierce looks as stylish as ever, rocking a nice black muscle shirt and expensive blue jeans. Ryan Gallway, the Heirs’ cruiserweight contingent, has on a red tank top, black jeans and yes… it’s Spring technically, but f*ck you all, he has on his silk scarf that American trash couldn’t afford in one year’s salary. He still owes Frank for that, by the by. And Mack Brody, the metrosexual version of Terry Gordy rests comfortably against his side of the tram, probably looking at his reflection in the window. Yup, that’s probably gonna happen about twelve times in this segment. You’ve been warned.)
FRANK PIERCE: Here we are, ladies and germs! Fifty action-packed editions of Aggression have passed us by. But it only took us one Aggression to prove we do exactly what we say we’re going to do. Layne Winters prattled on with stories of the past and how he was going to cripple us worse than polio and about a thousand other clichés that spewed more like The First’s jizz rather than mere verbal diarrhea. Anarky just kind of hung out in the corner and probably diddled himself when nobody thought he was looking. You know, like David Carradine. And here WE are, recovering from that crippling los… oh, wait.
RYAN GALLWAY: We f*cked those guys up. Like, playing the “Mario dies” theme at a funeral.
MACK BRODY: Wow. That IS f*cked up. Hilarious, though.
FRANK PIERCE: Indubitably.
(All three share a solemn nod before Frank continues.)
FRANK PIERCE: Like us, our opponents were also written off in their respective matches. John Doe was the favorite and Karl “The Dragon” Brown was poised to make a grand return to EPW center stage. We were all overlooked. Passed, glossed and I think even at one point, we were written off, too. HOPE was going to walk right in and do the same thing to us that they’ve been doing to Anthology in the last few months. But… oh, surprise, surprise, the Heirs of Wrestling flipped the script and the so-called real stars of EPW got cast into a role they’ll grow familiar with any time they cross our paths: Our b*tches.
(The Heirs share a laugh amongst themselves, high-fiving like the bunch of jock punkasses they are.)
FRANK PIERCE: Yeah, sure, Fusenshoff managed to score the upset and Michael I-Don’t-Know-Who-My-Real-Dad-Is slapped around John Doe a little bit. But the fans? They’re not talking about Fusenshoff drinking Karl Brown under the table metaphorically… and literally. We’re not talking about some macabre-sounding nobody that calls himself a bastard kicking around a nobody that has the charisma of the dead corpse he names himself after.
RYAN GALLWAY: You know what they ARE talking about, you guys? They be sayin’ “Heirs of Wrestling. Greater Than Sign. Your Name Here.”
MACK BRODY: …Huh? Oh, yeah, Heirs the rule, you guys the suck.
(Mack turns back to his reflection as his cohorts continue.)
FRANK PIERCE: We’ve reached greater heights here in EPW in one night than anybody thought possible for “new guys.” It was the Heirs of Wrestling that gave Layne Winters a rare notch in his loss column. It was US that made him run around here, sobbing and whining like the roided-up, strung-out b*tch that he is. It was US that made him cry out to the heavens for the competition, it was US making him put his TV Title on the line against three people so he can convince himself he’s still relevant and it was US that made him go postal… on, you, Michael.
(The ringleader of the Heirs puffs his chest out just to make every word seem that much more important.)
FRANK PIERCE: By the way, that was pretty funny, the way that he bounced your head off the floor like a pinball. Believe me when I say we’re looking forward to doing the same thing, just better. Now, Michael Asshole, before you go and pick out your next sh*tty macabre to a cut a promo in, whether that be a warehouse, meat locker or sharing a faggoty Turkish bath with The Amazing Logan, you and Fusenshoff should really take a cue from HOPE’s example.
(Ryan adds in his two cents. Now, all he needs is four dollars and he’ll get that latte he was craving earlier.)
RYAN GALLWAY: Those stupid-assed, face-painted, gruff turd bullets got smacked down because they were too busy looking at other things, whether that be their feud with Anthology or The First pulling a Bill Buchner and dropping the f*cking ball! Green River Justice? Nah, we f*cked those f*ckers up with some TRUTH!
(Patting him on the shoulder, Frank smiles.)
FRANK PIERCE: That about sums it up. You, Fusenshoff, and the Amazing Assbag better stop worrying about what Dan Ryan’s next move is going to be. What you better START worrying about is us ass-whomping you up so bad, you’ll be flashing back to the reason for all that angst you walk around with. Probably your dad yanking your pants down at night so he could make you submit to his Rusty Spike.
(Just off his shoulder, Ryan winces at the low blow.)
FRANK PIERCE: The bottom line is this: you and Fusenshoff better find yourselves some synergy right quick. You better focus on what’s at hand and not get lost in the clouds, Mikey.
(The camera gets a look outside at the splendorous view of the Sandia Mountain range. Getting a good look at the view, it shows how high off the ground the Heirs of Wrestling really are. Frank can be heard chuckling off-camera.)
FRANK PIERCE: Otherwise, you’re going to find out that it’s a long way down.
(FADE-OUT.)
Standing outside a gigantic fountain in the lobby are none other than my children… er, your heroes, The Heirs of Wrestling! Frank Pierce looks as stylish as ever, rocking a nice black muscle shirt and expensive blue jeans. Ryan Gallway, the Heirs’ cruiserweight contingent, has on a red tank top, black jeans and yes… it’s Spring technically, but f*ck you all, he has on his silk scarf that American trash couldn’t afford in one year’s salary. He still owes Frank for that, by the by. And Mack Brody, the metrosexual version of Terry Gordy rests comfortably against his side of the tram, probably looking at his reflection in the window. Yup, that’s probably gonna happen about twelve times in this segment. You’ve been warned.)
FRANK PIERCE: Here we are, ladies and germs! Fifty action-packed editions of Aggression have passed us by. But it only took us one Aggression to prove we do exactly what we say we’re going to do. Layne Winters prattled on with stories of the past and how he was going to cripple us worse than polio and about a thousand other clichés that spewed more like The First’s jizz rather than mere verbal diarrhea. Anarky just kind of hung out in the corner and probably diddled himself when nobody thought he was looking. You know, like David Carradine. And here WE are, recovering from that crippling los… oh, wait.
RYAN GALLWAY: We f*cked those guys up. Like, playing the “Mario dies” theme at a funeral.
MACK BRODY: Wow. That IS f*cked up. Hilarious, though.
FRANK PIERCE: Indubitably.
(All three share a solemn nod before Frank continues.)
FRANK PIERCE: Like us, our opponents were also written off in their respective matches. John Doe was the favorite and Karl “The Dragon” Brown was poised to make a grand return to EPW center stage. We were all overlooked. Passed, glossed and I think even at one point, we were written off, too. HOPE was going to walk right in and do the same thing to us that they’ve been doing to Anthology in the last few months. But… oh, surprise, surprise, the Heirs of Wrestling flipped the script and the so-called real stars of EPW got cast into a role they’ll grow familiar with any time they cross our paths: Our b*tches.
(The Heirs share a laugh amongst themselves, high-fiving like the bunch of jock punkasses they are.)
FRANK PIERCE: Yeah, sure, Fusenshoff managed to score the upset and Michael I-Don’t-Know-Who-My-Real-Dad-Is slapped around John Doe a little bit. But the fans? They’re not talking about Fusenshoff drinking Karl Brown under the table metaphorically… and literally. We’re not talking about some macabre-sounding nobody that calls himself a bastard kicking around a nobody that has the charisma of the dead corpse he names himself after.
RYAN GALLWAY: You know what they ARE talking about, you guys? They be sayin’ “Heirs of Wrestling. Greater Than Sign. Your Name Here.”
MACK BRODY: …Huh? Oh, yeah, Heirs the rule, you guys the suck.
(Mack turns back to his reflection as his cohorts continue.)
FRANK PIERCE: We’ve reached greater heights here in EPW in one night than anybody thought possible for “new guys.” It was the Heirs of Wrestling that gave Layne Winters a rare notch in his loss column. It was US that made him run around here, sobbing and whining like the roided-up, strung-out b*tch that he is. It was US that made him cry out to the heavens for the competition, it was US making him put his TV Title on the line against three people so he can convince himself he’s still relevant and it was US that made him go postal… on, you, Michael.
(The ringleader of the Heirs puffs his chest out just to make every word seem that much more important.)
FRANK PIERCE: By the way, that was pretty funny, the way that he bounced your head off the floor like a pinball. Believe me when I say we’re looking forward to doing the same thing, just better. Now, Michael Asshole, before you go and pick out your next sh*tty macabre to a cut a promo in, whether that be a warehouse, meat locker or sharing a faggoty Turkish bath with The Amazing Logan, you and Fusenshoff should really take a cue from HOPE’s example.
(Ryan adds in his two cents. Now, all he needs is four dollars and he’ll get that latte he was craving earlier.)
RYAN GALLWAY: Those stupid-assed, face-painted, gruff turd bullets got smacked down because they were too busy looking at other things, whether that be their feud with Anthology or The First pulling a Bill Buchner and dropping the f*cking ball! Green River Justice? Nah, we f*cked those f*ckers up with some TRUTH!
(Patting him on the shoulder, Frank smiles.)
FRANK PIERCE: That about sums it up. You, Fusenshoff, and the Amazing Assbag better stop worrying about what Dan Ryan’s next move is going to be. What you better START worrying about is us ass-whomping you up so bad, you’ll be flashing back to the reason for all that angst you walk around with. Probably your dad yanking your pants down at night so he could make you submit to his Rusty Spike.
(Just off his shoulder, Ryan winces at the low blow.)
FRANK PIERCE: The bottom line is this: you and Fusenshoff better find yourselves some synergy right quick. You better focus on what’s at hand and not get lost in the clouds, Mikey.
(The camera gets a look outside at the splendorous view of the Sandia Mountain range. Getting a good look at the view, it shows how high off the ground the Heirs of Wrestling really are. Frank can be heard chuckling off-camera.)
FRANK PIERCE: Otherwise, you’re going to find out that it’s a long way down.
(FADE-OUT.)
Fusenshoff
League Member
Fade in to Fusenshoff sitting at a bar watching the Vancouver Canucks play one of their last games of the season. He watches Luongo pull off a shutout as the netminder continues his dominance from the Olympics. Henrik Sedin also picks up another assist to add to his league leading point total this season. Fusenshoff side-glances at the camera before slamming a shot of blackjack. He grips the full bottle of Labatt’s Blue in his hand before turning to the camera.
Fusenshoff: “I’ve had this same feeling while watching movies. In American Pie 2, for instance, when Jason Biggs accidentally starts wanking it with super glue instead of lotion. By the end of the scene he’s standing on the roof with one hand glued to his cock and the other hand glued to a porno VHS tape. Sure I was laughing to the point of tears, but I was cringing too. It was difficult to watch and made me squirm with embarrassment for the character.
“I had that same feeling watching The Heirs of Wrestling cut their latest promo…
“Only I wasn’t laughing.
“There’s the reality and there’s the Heirs’ unfathomable perspective. Everyone that’s been paying attention to EPW for more than a few months saw Layne Winters and Anarky lose to the Heirs of Wrestling just a couple months after Fusenshoff and Anarky kicked their asses. They watched as Layne’s pipe dreams of super-stardom dropped like Michael Phelps on probation. Everyone watched as Layne then proceeded to lose his sh*t and assault everyone in his path, yours truly the lone exception, in a last-ditch effort to save face and his World Title hopes.
“And the Heirs of Wrestling are taking credit for that. They acknowledge it like it’s a source of pride. They win; Layne goes nuts; they celebrate and pat themselves on the back for a job well done.
“They gloat and parade around here like prodigal paladins who’ve earned a place in the pantheon of EPW history.”
Fusenshoff stops to take a swig of the Labatt’s Blue in front of him. The Canucks game is between periods.
“I’d be pissed. Why? The fact is Layne Winters was embarrassed. He was beaten by The Heirs of Wrestling and threw a temper tantrum the likes of which EPW has never… or at least rarely seen.
“If any of the wrestlers I beat while holding the Television Title for the better part of almost two years had thrown a hissy fit like that after a loss to me I would’ve laughed at the absurdity of it, but THERE’S NO WAY IN HELL I would’ve gloated.
“And I would’ve been at Dan Ryan’s or Lindsay Troy’s door in a heartbeat. Ask them how often that happens, by the way… I make Tiger Woods look like Joan Collins. That said, you’re damn sure I would’ve been knocking on their office door as fast as my legs or a cab can haul my ass back from the bar.
“I would’ve given them two choices: book a rematch the very next card or shake my hand and accept my resignation. Because if anyone in EPW lost to me and proceeded to show me up like that I’d make sure their HMO suffered just as much as they did for it.”
Fusenshoff leans back in his chair and shakes his head as he holds the Labatt’s to his lips before taking a drink. He sets the beer down, but maintains his posture.
“I don’t really know what to say to you guys. You made a lot of strange assumptions in that promo even after you doused your man-cards in Eternity for Women by Calvin Klein perfume and tossed them in a wood chipper.
“What’s with saying the wrestling fandom is all abuzz about you guys beating Anarky and Winters, but nobody cares that Michael and I kicked ass too? I didn’t realize you guys had your fingers lubed up and taking the temperature of wrestling fans en masse. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess you’re polling the Post-Avatar Depression Facebook Group to get this ridiculous feedback.
“In your opinion, I was the underdog against Karl Brown. Ask Karl if he felt the same way, or anyone else for that matter. I’ll tell you right now that there’s no way in hell I thought Karl was even a muscle tissue less talented than I am. We both went into that match prepared for everything. In fact, that’s a rarity in this business that we both share. Neither one of us looks at any opponent differently. I thought you might have noticed that when we met at Onslaught.
“And you mentioned chemistry again like Michael Bastard and I don’t know what it’s like to wrestle in a tag match. It didn’t help things last time when you brought it up preemptively against Anarky and me.
“Beating Anarky and Winters was a win at a very big show in Aggression 50. You didn’t cure cancer, but it was impressive. But then Layne turned it into a joke as he bent you guys over and shoved a banana up your tailpipes until your momentum stalled.
“You didn’t look for payback, but bragged about it instead.
“So I recommend visiting the nearest rape counseling clinic and scrounge up what’s left of your collective dignity. After that come to Aggression 51 prepared and you may find yourselves on the road to recovery.
“One of you might want to retaliate too by challenging Layne Winters to match. That, or just whoop his ass for making you look like the Hairless Pussies… just a thought.”
Fade out as Fusenshoff turns, signals the bartender and looks back to the Canucks game.
Fusenshoff: “I’ve had this same feeling while watching movies. In American Pie 2, for instance, when Jason Biggs accidentally starts wanking it with super glue instead of lotion. By the end of the scene he’s standing on the roof with one hand glued to his cock and the other hand glued to a porno VHS tape. Sure I was laughing to the point of tears, but I was cringing too. It was difficult to watch and made me squirm with embarrassment for the character.
“I had that same feeling watching The Heirs of Wrestling cut their latest promo…
“Only I wasn’t laughing.
“There’s the reality and there’s the Heirs’ unfathomable perspective. Everyone that’s been paying attention to EPW for more than a few months saw Layne Winters and Anarky lose to the Heirs of Wrestling just a couple months after Fusenshoff and Anarky kicked their asses. They watched as Layne’s pipe dreams of super-stardom dropped like Michael Phelps on probation. Everyone watched as Layne then proceeded to lose his sh*t and assault everyone in his path, yours truly the lone exception, in a last-ditch effort to save face and his World Title hopes.
“And the Heirs of Wrestling are taking credit for that. They acknowledge it like it’s a source of pride. They win; Layne goes nuts; they celebrate and pat themselves on the back for a job well done.
“They gloat and parade around here like prodigal paladins who’ve earned a place in the pantheon of EPW history.”
Fusenshoff stops to take a swig of the Labatt’s Blue in front of him. The Canucks game is between periods.
“I’d be pissed. Why? The fact is Layne Winters was embarrassed. He was beaten by The Heirs of Wrestling and threw a temper tantrum the likes of which EPW has never… or at least rarely seen.
“If any of the wrestlers I beat while holding the Television Title for the better part of almost two years had thrown a hissy fit like that after a loss to me I would’ve laughed at the absurdity of it, but THERE’S NO WAY IN HELL I would’ve gloated.
“And I would’ve been at Dan Ryan’s or Lindsay Troy’s door in a heartbeat. Ask them how often that happens, by the way… I make Tiger Woods look like Joan Collins. That said, you’re damn sure I would’ve been knocking on their office door as fast as my legs or a cab can haul my ass back from the bar.
“I would’ve given them two choices: book a rematch the very next card or shake my hand and accept my resignation. Because if anyone in EPW lost to me and proceeded to show me up like that I’d make sure their HMO suffered just as much as they did for it.”
Fusenshoff leans back in his chair and shakes his head as he holds the Labatt’s to his lips before taking a drink. He sets the beer down, but maintains his posture.
“I don’t really know what to say to you guys. You made a lot of strange assumptions in that promo even after you doused your man-cards in Eternity for Women by Calvin Klein perfume and tossed them in a wood chipper.
“What’s with saying the wrestling fandom is all abuzz about you guys beating Anarky and Winters, but nobody cares that Michael and I kicked ass too? I didn’t realize you guys had your fingers lubed up and taking the temperature of wrestling fans en masse. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess you’re polling the Post-Avatar Depression Facebook Group to get this ridiculous feedback.
“In your opinion, I was the underdog against Karl Brown. Ask Karl if he felt the same way, or anyone else for that matter. I’ll tell you right now that there’s no way in hell I thought Karl was even a muscle tissue less talented than I am. We both went into that match prepared for everything. In fact, that’s a rarity in this business that we both share. Neither one of us looks at any opponent differently. I thought you might have noticed that when we met at Onslaught.
“And you mentioned chemistry again like Michael Bastard and I don’t know what it’s like to wrestle in a tag match. It didn’t help things last time when you brought it up preemptively against Anarky and me.
“Beating Anarky and Winters was a win at a very big show in Aggression 50. You didn’t cure cancer, but it was impressive. But then Layne turned it into a joke as he bent you guys over and shoved a banana up your tailpipes until your momentum stalled.
“You didn’t look for payback, but bragged about it instead.
“So I recommend visiting the nearest rape counseling clinic and scrounge up what’s left of your collective dignity. After that come to Aggression 51 prepared and you may find yourselves on the road to recovery.
“One of you might want to retaliate too by challenging Layne Winters to match. That, or just whoop his ass for making you look like the Hairless Pussies… just a thought.”
Fade out as Fusenshoff turns, signals the bartender and looks back to the Canucks game.
- Joined
- Feb 4, 2005
- Messages
- 1,143
- Points
- 38
(FADE-IN II: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO: The Heirs of Wrestling are now partaking in a little bit of R&R down at a local bookstore not more than a mile from the arena. Mack Brody can be seen faintly in the background, doing a little bit of chatting up the local hotties with some promise of making his magic pecs dance. The camera then gets a close-up of Ryan Gallway and Frank Pierce, both nose-deep in a pair of books. For the space cadet that is Ryan Gallway? “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” After a few quiet moments, he slams the book shut.)
RYAN GALLWAY: What the ****?! This isn’t how it happened! This isn’t how it happened at all! I’m gonna sue this asshole!
(After Frank shakes his head in disgusts at his cohort storming off to write some hate mail to Douglas Adams, he pulls his nose right out of his own book, ‘LEADERSHIP FOR DRUNKS.’ Frank looks up, uttered s-h-o-c-k-e-d a camera appears on him. And if you believe that, welcome to your first EPW show.)
FRANK PIERCE: What can I say, Fuse? Bang-up job of rallying the troops. Comparing us to a movie just like last time, pointing out a match that three people saw at a house show that meant dick, then making somewhere in the range of about twenty-six homosexual jokes like what you’ve done was discovered fire. I’d pick up a copy of this if I were you, friend. It’s $4.99 in the local bargain bin at Barnes and Noble. That’s just a shade more than what Michael D*ckhole spends on his entire wardrobe.
(He slams the book shut and tosses it to the seat next to him.)
FRANK PIERCE: So… let’s see if I can connect the dots. In our televised debut, we beat HOPE, one of the premier stables in EPW, and also, we defeated a guy in our first match that took YOUR Television Title that YOU’VE done nothing about; a guy YOU’VE never beaten, might I add. A guy who before us, only Shawn Hart had scored the 1-2-3 over. We exposed this guy as the quivering, whining mess of nothing that he is and… and we should be ASHAMED of ourselves? You’ve compared us to the great Punani on which we dine and of which you are?
(Placing both hands behind his head, Frank shakes his head, chuckling under his breath like he’s heard the funniest joke of all time told to him by Richard Pryor and Mitch Hedberg at the same time.)
FRANK PIERCE: Why? It’s of no consequence to me whether he threw the tantrum because he thought we were that inferior or if it was him trying to keep momentum alive for a World Title shot. I don’t know what match you were watching, Fuse, but we won! We celebrated our victory with drinks after the show and he couldn’t do anything about it but beat up random people WHO WEREN’T US. If losing so bad that he cried is your idea of quote-unquote “showing us up,” I suggest your parents talk to the guy that helped fine-tune your verbal and grammatical skills and get their g*ddamned money back.
And what was up with that rousing speech you delivered about lubing up bananas and raping Facebook people or something… yeah, I’ll be honest, THAT part I wasn’t quite listening to. I and my compatriots are far above getting upset by such drivel. We reside on a plane that spiritually, mentally, and physically, you couldn’t penetrate… Annnd there was another opportunity for a gay joke. Probably some jibe about being more than just "tag team partners." Let’s see… then he’ll respond that we’re not men… then he’ll probably call us a bunch of pillowbiters, too. But, will I be drawn to furrowing my brow, staring into the camera and showing off my “smell the fart” acting like your tag team partner?
No. But I urge all of EPW’s homosexual demographic to write to their headquarters, and voice your disapproval at Fusenshoff using your lifestyle as an insult. As beings who are the wrath of others’ envy, we also face persecution each and every day, and it’s time to say that enough is enough. Write, e-mail, telephone, take action to get the prejudiced and hate-fueled words of Fusenshoff taken off the air… oh, but wait until after Aggression 51. No point in writing to have him removed if he’s in traction before anybody actually sees it.
(Because the Heirs of Wrestling are cool guys like that, the information for the EPW website, e-mail and postal address of EPW headquarters pops up on the screen, together with the telephone number.)
FRANK PIERCE: The way I see it all, the momentum is still riding pretty high in our camp, Fuse. Buuuut… somewhere within all those jibes that showed off the sparkling wit of a third-grader, there was one point I won’t rebuke: You and Anarky did defeat us at Onslaught. I won’t throw some “tree falls in the woods” business your way, but remember this, Fuse: Anarky did the exact same thing you’re doing. He bragged about the victory, he talked up the big show and that he was playing for keeps. When it came clutch time on the grand stage that millions upon millions witnessed… well, he continued to take labored breaths like an imbecile. Not because he was talking sh*t like usual, mind you, but because he was forced to choke on an unhealthy combination of bile and his own words.
(The leader of the Heirs of Wrestling shrugs as he laughs to himself.)
FRANK PIERCE: I’ll let you decide what you want to do from here. You can probably wait until after Aggression to see what that exactly tastes like, Fuse. Or if you’re not one of those people who are hindered by somebody crying “spoiler alert,” you can always ask the big palooka yourself. And he’d probably tell you” “It… tastes… sh*tty… pain and… suffering… must… spin… Tool… records… more…” Oh, and just to show that I haven’t completely forgotten about… uh… Michael whathisface and the Amazing D-Bag…
(Pulling a cane out from his side, Frank Pierce whacks the camera lens away from their general vicinity, but he doesn’t stop there. For some reason, he’s compelled to beat the **** out of the camera, the frame catching a glimpse of it cracking the lens repeatedly. Slightly off to the side, you can hear Frank’s voice sound more like something of a caveman.)
FRANK PIERCE: GRRR. I MICHAEL DUMB****! I HURT, I HURT, HEAR ME ROAR… GWARRRRR!
(Mercifully… FADE-OUT.)
RYAN GALLWAY: What the ****?! This isn’t how it happened! This isn’t how it happened at all! I’m gonna sue this asshole!
(After Frank shakes his head in disgusts at his cohort storming off to write some hate mail to Douglas Adams, he pulls his nose right out of his own book, ‘LEADERSHIP FOR DRUNKS.’ Frank looks up, uttered s-h-o-c-k-e-d a camera appears on him. And if you believe that, welcome to your first EPW show.)
FRANK PIERCE: What can I say, Fuse? Bang-up job of rallying the troops. Comparing us to a movie just like last time, pointing out a match that three people saw at a house show that meant dick, then making somewhere in the range of about twenty-six homosexual jokes like what you’ve done was discovered fire. I’d pick up a copy of this if I were you, friend. It’s $4.99 in the local bargain bin at Barnes and Noble. That’s just a shade more than what Michael D*ckhole spends on his entire wardrobe.
(He slams the book shut and tosses it to the seat next to him.)
FRANK PIERCE: So… let’s see if I can connect the dots. In our televised debut, we beat HOPE, one of the premier stables in EPW, and also, we defeated a guy in our first match that took YOUR Television Title that YOU’VE done nothing about; a guy YOU’VE never beaten, might I add. A guy who before us, only Shawn Hart had scored the 1-2-3 over. We exposed this guy as the quivering, whining mess of nothing that he is and… and we should be ASHAMED of ourselves? You’ve compared us to the great Punani on which we dine and of which you are?
(Placing both hands behind his head, Frank shakes his head, chuckling under his breath like he’s heard the funniest joke of all time told to him by Richard Pryor and Mitch Hedberg at the same time.)
FRANK PIERCE: Why? It’s of no consequence to me whether he threw the tantrum because he thought we were that inferior or if it was him trying to keep momentum alive for a World Title shot. I don’t know what match you were watching, Fuse, but we won! We celebrated our victory with drinks after the show and he couldn’t do anything about it but beat up random people WHO WEREN’T US. If losing so bad that he cried is your idea of quote-unquote “showing us up,” I suggest your parents talk to the guy that helped fine-tune your verbal and grammatical skills and get their g*ddamned money back.
And what was up with that rousing speech you delivered about lubing up bananas and raping Facebook people or something… yeah, I’ll be honest, THAT part I wasn’t quite listening to. I and my compatriots are far above getting upset by such drivel. We reside on a plane that spiritually, mentally, and physically, you couldn’t penetrate… Annnd there was another opportunity for a gay joke. Probably some jibe about being more than just "tag team partners." Let’s see… then he’ll respond that we’re not men… then he’ll probably call us a bunch of pillowbiters, too. But, will I be drawn to furrowing my brow, staring into the camera and showing off my “smell the fart” acting like your tag team partner?
No. But I urge all of EPW’s homosexual demographic to write to their headquarters, and voice your disapproval at Fusenshoff using your lifestyle as an insult. As beings who are the wrath of others’ envy, we also face persecution each and every day, and it’s time to say that enough is enough. Write, e-mail, telephone, take action to get the prejudiced and hate-fueled words of Fusenshoff taken off the air… oh, but wait until after Aggression 51. No point in writing to have him removed if he’s in traction before anybody actually sees it.
(Because the Heirs of Wrestling are cool guys like that, the information for the EPW website, e-mail and postal address of EPW headquarters pops up on the screen, together with the telephone number.)
FRANK PIERCE: The way I see it all, the momentum is still riding pretty high in our camp, Fuse. Buuuut… somewhere within all those jibes that showed off the sparkling wit of a third-grader, there was one point I won’t rebuke: You and Anarky did defeat us at Onslaught. I won’t throw some “tree falls in the woods” business your way, but remember this, Fuse: Anarky did the exact same thing you’re doing. He bragged about the victory, he talked up the big show and that he was playing for keeps. When it came clutch time on the grand stage that millions upon millions witnessed… well, he continued to take labored breaths like an imbecile. Not because he was talking sh*t like usual, mind you, but because he was forced to choke on an unhealthy combination of bile and his own words.
(The leader of the Heirs of Wrestling shrugs as he laughs to himself.)
FRANK PIERCE: I’ll let you decide what you want to do from here. You can probably wait until after Aggression to see what that exactly tastes like, Fuse. Or if you’re not one of those people who are hindered by somebody crying “spoiler alert,” you can always ask the big palooka yourself. And he’d probably tell you” “It… tastes… sh*tty… pain and… suffering… must… spin… Tool… records… more…” Oh, and just to show that I haven’t completely forgotten about… uh… Michael whathisface and the Amazing D-Bag…
(Pulling a cane out from his side, Frank Pierce whacks the camera lens away from their general vicinity, but he doesn’t stop there. For some reason, he’s compelled to beat the **** out of the camera, the frame catching a glimpse of it cracking the lens repeatedly. Slightly off to the side, you can hear Frank’s voice sound more like something of a caveman.)
FRANK PIERCE: GRRR. I MICHAEL DUMB****! I HURT, I HURT, HEAR ME ROAR… GWARRRRR!
(Mercifully… FADE-OUT.)
Last edited:
Fusenshoff
League Member
Fade in to Fusenshoff in front of an EPW backdrop. Only his die-hard fans may notice he’s a little further inebriated than is the norm for his promo. Nearly everyone will notice the lack of a bottle in front of him. Fuse is usually in the home stretch of getting pissed when he cuts his promos, but he’s full on feeling it now. Still, being the full-blown alcoholic that he is, it’s obvious at all. In fact it’s hardly distinguishable.
Fusenshoff: “I can always tell when I’ve done my job well by humiliating my opponent in my promo. At least, that’s what I usually aim for.
“But as I said, you can see it when your opponent starts off by belittling what you said and in the process dramatically over exaggerates. That’s when you can tell your jeers stung just a little more than the average berating comments.
“Like the one quote-unquote gay remarks I made in my last promo. The only comment that was even close to calling the Heirs gay was the tailpipe joke. That analogy was technically about cars and how they stall when someone shoves a banana in the tailpipe, but yeah, I also meant it to sound like Layne Winters f*cked the Heirs of Wrestling like they’re a bundle of b*tches. One can possibly construe that remark as offensive to gays. It’s a bit of a reach, but I can see it.
“Personally, I don’t really give a sh*t about that. It doesn’t seem like 95% of the roster or EPW fans do either based on what’s typically said in promos and segments around here.
“Then there’s the perfume comment I made. That one was about Winters emasculating The Heirs of Wrestling more than they’ve already done to themselves on their own. I mean the guys wear expensive scarves in warm weather and designer jeans. Look at how many skanks Sean Stevens has to f*ck just to get away with the same thing and still be considered ‘manly’. You three have a knockout manager and from what I can tell, none of you can even get in her pants.
“So metro and effeminate isn’t exactly a far reach for you guys. But I think you were the only ones who took it as gay. You don’t need to be Freud to figure out where the sub-conscious is headed on that path.
“One, maybe two; not twenty six. I get the feeling you guys might be a bit overly defensive about that particular topic.
“And I like your logic when it comes to me challenging Layne Winters. I lose in a title match and Layne gets the belt I could’ve cared less to hold or not, so I should challenge him. I didn’t throw a hissy fit after the match. Layne didn’t embarrass me after losing by assaulting me or anybody else with it. There was absolutely no retaliation of any sort by either party.
“You argue that Layne didn’t make you three look ridiculous, but he lost to you and then attacked a bunch of people and called out the whole locker room ready to fight. You guys not only acknowledged that fact, you embraced it.
“Call me crazy, but that’s about a set in stone as it comes. He made you guys look like amateurs and fools.
“Not to mention Winters isn’t exactly legend status just yet. Maybe someday, but he’s only had a little over a handful of matches in EPW after coming from a no-name federation. He’s pretty much new, just like you. The guys wins a lot. So do a lot of people in this federation.
“Maybe you’re right though. Maybe my hate-fueled words should be taken of the air, as you so eloquently put it. The problem is I like this job though, boys. So if I have to be nice and friendly while careful not to hurt anyone’s feelings or make Ellen DeGeneres angry I can live with it.
“I’d be worried that EPW would fold because no one would watch it anymore, but if we have to turn this sport into a Teletubby marathon I suppose I’m on board.
“A couple other things, Heirs. Good idea to stop digging that ‘chemistry’ hole you guys are so worried about. And I like how you compare my approach to Anarky’s. I didn’t make a big deal about beating you guys at Onslaught. In fact if you call what I said about that win to what you said about your win against Anarky and Winters, you might as well not even show up if that’s the barometer on what it takes to win.
“Personally, I’d stop worrying about what GLAAD thinks of my promos and starts focusing on the match. You have enough to fret about as it is.”
Fade out as Fusenshoff suddenly feels a little too sober for his liking and exits quicker than usual.
Fusenshoff: “I can always tell when I’ve done my job well by humiliating my opponent in my promo. At least, that’s what I usually aim for.
“But as I said, you can see it when your opponent starts off by belittling what you said and in the process dramatically over exaggerates. That’s when you can tell your jeers stung just a little more than the average berating comments.
“Like the one quote-unquote gay remarks I made in my last promo. The only comment that was even close to calling the Heirs gay was the tailpipe joke. That analogy was technically about cars and how they stall when someone shoves a banana in the tailpipe, but yeah, I also meant it to sound like Layne Winters f*cked the Heirs of Wrestling like they’re a bundle of b*tches. One can possibly construe that remark as offensive to gays. It’s a bit of a reach, but I can see it.
“Personally, I don’t really give a sh*t about that. It doesn’t seem like 95% of the roster or EPW fans do either based on what’s typically said in promos and segments around here.
“Then there’s the perfume comment I made. That one was about Winters emasculating The Heirs of Wrestling more than they’ve already done to themselves on their own. I mean the guys wear expensive scarves in warm weather and designer jeans. Look at how many skanks Sean Stevens has to f*ck just to get away with the same thing and still be considered ‘manly’. You three have a knockout manager and from what I can tell, none of you can even get in her pants.
“So metro and effeminate isn’t exactly a far reach for you guys. But I think you were the only ones who took it as gay. You don’t need to be Freud to figure out where the sub-conscious is headed on that path.
“One, maybe two; not twenty six. I get the feeling you guys might be a bit overly defensive about that particular topic.
“And I like your logic when it comes to me challenging Layne Winters. I lose in a title match and Layne gets the belt I could’ve cared less to hold or not, so I should challenge him. I didn’t throw a hissy fit after the match. Layne didn’t embarrass me after losing by assaulting me or anybody else with it. There was absolutely no retaliation of any sort by either party.
“You argue that Layne didn’t make you three look ridiculous, but he lost to you and then attacked a bunch of people and called out the whole locker room ready to fight. You guys not only acknowledged that fact, you embraced it.
“Call me crazy, but that’s about a set in stone as it comes. He made you guys look like amateurs and fools.
“Not to mention Winters isn’t exactly legend status just yet. Maybe someday, but he’s only had a little over a handful of matches in EPW after coming from a no-name federation. He’s pretty much new, just like you. The guys wins a lot. So do a lot of people in this federation.
“Maybe you’re right though. Maybe my hate-fueled words should be taken of the air, as you so eloquently put it. The problem is I like this job though, boys. So if I have to be nice and friendly while careful not to hurt anyone’s feelings or make Ellen DeGeneres angry I can live with it.
“I’d be worried that EPW would fold because no one would watch it anymore, but if we have to turn this sport into a Teletubby marathon I suppose I’m on board.
“A couple other things, Heirs. Good idea to stop digging that ‘chemistry’ hole you guys are so worried about. And I like how you compare my approach to Anarky’s. I didn’t make a big deal about beating you guys at Onslaught. In fact if you call what I said about that win to what you said about your win against Anarky and Winters, you might as well not even show up if that’s the barometer on what it takes to win.
“Personally, I’d stop worrying about what GLAAD thinks of my promos and starts focusing on the match. You have enough to fret about as it is.”
Fade out as Fusenshoff suddenly feels a little too sober for his liking and exits quicker than usual.