FRIDAY NIGHT VULGAR 01

[LQJT86C]

Contents

i. Contents
ii. Intro (Motherf*cker)
iii. Prologue (The skinny)
iv. Jew versus Holocaust
v. TAMP-OFF
vi. What's my name?
vii. Ford goes under
viii. SURPRISE!
ix. Johnson v. Magnus
x. How the f*ck did he get under there?
xi. Electric v. Lust
xii. Can't we all just get along?
xiii. Rent-an-Asian
xiv. IMPROMPTU MAIN EVENT

 

[LQJT86C]

i. Intro (Motherf*cker)

(FADEIN: The black lettering of the ‘NLW’ logo with red underline moves closer over a white background to the front of your screen; the closer it comes, the louder we hear the sound of screeching over subway tracks.. As it comes forward, it begins revolving 180 degrees. When it turns, the back of the logo features MAGNUS DESTRUCTO throwing up a spike-shouldered arm inside the logo lettering. It turns two more times, this time featuring a cross-armed ‘DANGEROUS’ DUKE MACKEY looking down at the camera. Turns two more times, and we see a pan shot of a packed crowd at the Manhattan Center as the logo flies through the screen, transitioning to a full screen shot of the crowd)

(CUEUP: “Redneck” by Lamb of God)

(CUTTO: BOBBY JACK WINDHAM bouncing off the ropes and slowing down as he circles his arms forward in preparation for a match)

(CUTTO: MAGNUS DESTRUCTO swinging around a mace at center ring with two hands, before dropping it and beating his chest with one hand)

(CUTTO: HARRY HOLOCAUST on one knee, swirling his head from end to end, mouth open, blood seeping from his tongue as he lashes it out)

(CUTTO: STRAWBERRY *****, red hair flowing over her shoulders as she leans her DOUBLE D cleavage over the guard rail and winks)

(CUTTO: ‘ELECTRIC’ EDDIE PATTON coming off the ropes, abruptly stopping, and hitting an unsuspecting opponent with the CIRCUIT BREAKER)

V/O: “THIS IS A MUTHA-FUCKIN INNNN-VI-TAY-SHYYYOOOON!

(CUTTO: Camera moves from the boots, to the knees, to the obvious pitched tent, chest, and eventually a front view of WANDERLUST gripping one of his taped wrists and throwing a knowing look to the crowd)

V/O: “THE ONLY OOOOONNNNE YOU COULD EEEEEVER NEED!”

(CUTTO: VIC GRAVENDER hitting the BOMB DROP on some poor bastard)

V/O: “THIS IS A MUTHA-FUCKIN INNNN-VI-TAY-SHYYYOOOON! YOU TRY ME…”

(CUTTO: A tired, bleeding from the forehead YUTAKA MAEDA comes off the ropes slowly and clotheslines his opponent to the outside through a table)

(CUTTO: ‘NORMAL’ JOHN JOHNSON atop an opponent’s shoulders, flailing his arms until he rolls forward with a victory roll for the three count!)

(CUTTO: ‘THE BLUE BASTARD’ ZESTY MORDANT getting up from the outside concrete, wiping his sweaty forehead, and picking up his ringside rum and coke for a quick sip)

(CUTTO: ‘THE MAIN EVENT’ MATT FORD taking his opponent up for a FORDPLEX II: CHAMPIONSHIP EDITION and landing it on a steel chair, prompting a packed crowd to JUMP outta their seats and go apeshit!

V/O: “BUT I AIN’T ONE TO CALL NAMES!”

(CUTTO: RORY HENDERSON losing his ******* SHIT and choking someone out in THE RELAPSE)

V/O: “OR THROW STONES IN A HOUSE OF GLASS! YOU TRY ME!”

(CUTTO: ELI SCHEINBERG ducking a right and a left from an opponent, turning around and clocking them with an elbow before bowing to the crowd)

(CUTTO: A wild fan running into the ring at BOBBY JACK WINDHAM before getting PASTED with a SWEETWATER DREAMS clothesline from fucking hell! WINDHAM gets up and wipes his hands up and down like he just took out the trash)

V/O: “THIS IS A MUTHA-FUCKIN INNNN-VI-TAY-SHYYYYON!”

(CUTTO: STRAWBERRY BITCH promptly removing JIMMY MYLDE’s arm from her shoulder, curling her lip and walking off camera)

V/O: “THE ONLY OOOONNNE YOU COULD EEEEVER NEED!”

(CUTTO: ELI SCHEINBERG hitting a leg drop off the top turnbuckle)

V/O: “THIS IS A MUTHA-FUCKIN INNNN-VI-TAY-SHYYYON!”

(FLASH CUTTO: MAGNUS DESTRUCTO hitting the DESTRUCTO BOMB inverted powerbomb on one poor son of a bitch; MAGNUS putting another in his submission hold, DESTRUCTO MAGNISSION)

V/O: “JUST. ONE. TYYYYYYYYYME!”

(CUTTO: YUTAKA MAEDA climbing the turnbuckle and surveying both ends of the HAMMERSTEIN BALLROOM)

(CUTTO: In front of SCORES strip club in Manhattan, DUKE MACKEY, wearing a “STAFF” t-shirt, throws JIMMY MYLDE out of the club and onto his ass in the street)

(CUTTO: BOBBY JACK WINDHAM staring down BRIAN OBERSTARR as the announcer slowly hands him the microphone)

(CUTTO: WANDERLUST grins as a thirty-something female strokes his chest. She smiles at the camera and flashes her wedding ring; TRASHY ROMANCE looks on studiously)

(CUTTO: TERENCE holding up a fan-sign that reads “FUCK THIS SAUSAGE PARTY!”)

V/O: “JUST”

(CUTTO: VIC GRAVENDER hits a diving headbutt!)

V/O: “ONE”

(CUTTO: ‘ELECTRIC’ EDDIE PATTON hits a frog splash on a chair over his opponent, immediately grabbing his chest)

V/O: “TYYYYYYYYME!”

(CUTTO: ZESTY MORDANT throwing up a bottle of Old St. Croix, pouring it over his face amongst a throng of rabid fans…as the ‘NLW’ logo fades back onto the screen)

RA PALAZZO V/O: “We ARE the Next Level!”


(FADEOUT)

 

[LQJT86C]

ii. Prologue (The skinny)

(CUEUP: “Space Lord” by Monster Magnet)

(FADEIN: In front of a black and white ‘NLW’ backdrop stands a young man with short, messy black hair in a black suit and gray tie- BRIAN OBERSTARR. To his left, a man in his 50’s wearing Aviator sunglasses and slicked back brown hair with natural gray streaks. He’s dressed in a light blue polo shirt tucked into his white khakis- JIMMY MYLDE)

OBERSTARR: Welcome everyone to the very FIRST edition of Next Level Wrestling’s FRIDAY NIGHT VULGAR! I’m Brian Oberstarr along with my broadcast partner for the first of many nights to come, JIMMY MYLDE!

MYLDE: Let’s not get ahead of yourself, kid. You see, NLW is kind of like a mix between…a circus, a titty bar, a rock show, a light show…a really low, low budget light show…and of course, wrestling. Which is exactly why I insisted on being the highest paid employee in the company, otherwise I’d never be caught dead in this popsicle stand. But go ahead, earn your dollar, shill the matches, and I’ll add the Mylde flavoring.

OBERSTARR: Well coming up in February, NLW is featuring consecutive ONE-NIGHT grand prix tournaments to decide the final participants in the World Open Weight Championship match, to be held at our first PPV, Eye for an Eye, coming in March. One of those tournaments will be the Golden Boy GP, featuring wrestlers below two-hundred and sixty five pounds. The other is called the King of all Monsters GP, and it’ll be the BIG BOYS- two hundred sixty five pounds and ABOVE! And believe me, NLW has NO SHORTAGE of two sixty five plusers.

MYLDE: When I walked into the locker room, I was reminded of the last time I was surrounded by that many gigantic, ugly looking muscled up bad men.

OBERSTARR: Oh really? When was that?

MYLDE: When they had me locked up for eight months after my fifteenth DWI.

OBERSTARR: FIFTEEN DWIs?!

MYLDE: You heard me Brian, fifteen. You drive home drunk, it’s DWI. You walk home drunk, it’s public intoxication. Dealing with the law is like dealing with a friend who cheats at Monopoly.

OBERSTARR: Christ Jimmy, how the hell do you still have a license?

MYLDE: Jeez, now he thinks I need the law’s permission to drive. Where do they find these people?

OBERSTARR: (blinks) Tonight’s action features a potential tournament matchup, when ‘THE MAIN EVENT’ MATT FORD takes on the Watertown Wrecking Ball himself, VIC GRAVENDER!

MYLDE: He calls himself the ‘Main Event’ but TONIGHT…he’s on the mid-card. Sorry brother, just telling it like it is. But regardless, if he lands some of those high impact technical maneuvers on Gravender, he might be moving up quickly. Gravender though; the guy’s big, but he moves like a cruiserweight. A dynamic guy like that might just win the whole damn thing, but who the hell knows.

OBERSTARR: Also in action, perhaps the biggest and most intimidating of them all, ‘The Dreaded Devourer’, ‘The Baron of Brutality’ MAGNUS DESTRUCTO, faces off against ‘NORMAL’ JOHN JOHNSON.

MYLDE: It’s nine-to-five versus nine-FOOT-five. I mean Christ, if ever there was an underdog…but Destructo’s a lot of flash and bang. If he can’t back it up in the ring, he might as well give up on wrestling and join GWAR.

OBERSTARR: In our featured match of the evening, ‘The Scourge of Monogamy’ WANDERLUST takes on one HELL of an in-ring talent, ‘ELECTRIC’ EDDIE PATTON.

MYLDE: It’s a good thing my wife is too old to bang anyone not named Jimmy Mylde, because Wanderlust might knock the dust off her the second I turned my back. Look, this is a bout between two guys with a TREMENDOUS upside- or in the case of Wanderlust, a THIRTEEN INCH upside!

OBERSTARR: Jesus Jimmy, did he make you pull out the ruler? Later tonight we’ll have the owner of NLW, RA Palazzo, make a special announcement. But first, we start things off between two of the lighter NLW competitors, ELI SCHEINBERG and HARRY HOLOCAUST!

MYLDE: Six million people died in the Holocaust- MINUS ONE! HARRY HOLOCAUST! That’s right everybody, we’ve got a survivor here in NLW, and he’s going to be fighting for YOUR ENTERTAINMENT! How ‘bout that, eh?

OBERSTARR: (slowly looks over at Mylde, and back) Let’s send this one to ringside…

(CUTTO: STATIC)

 

[LQJT86C]

iv. Jew versus Holocaust

(CUTTO: Overhead shot of the ring where the tall, attractive yet Amazonian SIREN stands in heels holding the microphone. She turns, revealing angel wing tattoos on her back; a fitting addition to her rather Gothic image)

SIREN: Theeeee following contesssst is scheduled for hmm-ONE FALL! Introducing FIRSSSSSST!

(CUEUP: “Supersonic” by Oasis)

(The arena lights briefly dim as blue and red flash across the entranceway. The drum beat plays out, and just as the guitar pick scratches across the strings before the rhythm picks up, ELI SCHEINBERG enters through the curtains. The bushy browed, sideburn sporting, protruding nose having British-born Jew makes his way to the ring wearing cutoff black gloves, and tights which feature the British Union Jack flag on one leg, the Israeli Star of David flag on the other)

SIREN: FROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM MANCHESSSSSTEEEEEEERRRR IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINGLAAAAAAAAAAND! HE-STANDS-FIVE-FOOT-ELEVENNNNNNN…WEIGHING IN AT ONE HUNDRED...EIGHTY POOOOOOUUUUNDS! THEEEEEEEEE HEBREW HITMAN! THEEEEE MANCHESTERRRRR hmm-MAULER! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII…SCHEIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNN…BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRGGGGG!

MYLDE: And I’ve gotta deal with that all year?

OBERSTARR: Her shriek is rather loud.

MYLDE: The fans are ‘loud’. This bitch is gonna cause me to lose twelve percent hearing…if I’m LUCKY!

(SCHEINBERG climbs into the ring with a little spin, and immediately rests his back against the turnbuckle like a boxer awaiting his next challenge)

(CUEUP: “In the House, Without a Heartbeat” by John Murphy)

(The lights go back out, leaving only a blood-red illumination in their stead. As the song builds up, HARRY HOLOCAUST comes out walking odd and gangly. Blood leaks from his mouth as he growls and threatens fans who simply throw ‘the bird’ in his face)

SIREN: Hmmm-HIS OPPONENT! HE HAILS FROM PARTS WHICH ARE…UNKNOWN! FIVE FOOT SEVVVVVVEN HE STANDS! ONE HUNDRED TWENTY FOUR POUNDS HEEEEEEE WEIGHS! HE IS! HARRY! HHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLOCCCCAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUSSSSSSST-UHHHHHHHHHH!

OBERSTARR: Look out!

(HOLOCAUST measures up the distance and SPRINTS to the ring, prompting SCHEINBERG to immediately trip into a toehold, then transition to a front facelock)

OBERSTARR: Eli quickly checks Harry’s aggression, holding him in that facelock. Harry Holocaust came like a house on fire, but moving forward like that only plays into the hands of the more technical Eli Scheinberg.

MYLDE: Scheinberg attempting to be the first Jew to defeat the Holocaust.

OBERSTARR: No doubt there was some irony in this booking. Eli drives a knee into the ribs of Harry, stands up and hits a rolling Senton…finishes with a quick elbow drop! And now he throws up an arm to get the crowd into it.

MYLDE: This isn’t Manchester, where they sing songs at futbol matches and whatnot. You’ve seen Woodstock ’99, right? They’ll trample and rape you if ya gouge ‘em on Pepsi.

OBERSTARR: Eli’s got the faux Holocaust survivor in a sleeper hold now, trying to wear down all that wild energy. Harry’s on his feet, flailing his arms and trying to reverse, obviously not proficient enough to apply the right hold. He could be in over his head!

MYLDE: This place better not fold before I retire. After calling a match involving a zombie Holocaust survivor, I’m not sure you or I could find work anywhere else.

OBERSTARR: …and it’s only the first televised match; brace yourself Jimmy! Look out, Eli hooks his legs around a standing Harry Holocaust, still holding onto that sleeper. Harry THROWS his weight backwards against the turnbuckle! Eli still holds! AGAIN! Harry’s legs are wobbling, he’s going out. ONE MORE TIME! ELI RELEASES THE HOLD! I think he had the wind knocked out of him that time!

MYLDE: Anne Frank here ain’t the sharpest knife in the technical toolbox, but he scraps and fights, and sometimes that’s all you need.

OBERSTARR: Harry with sporadic lefts and rights…a few kicks now to the gut of Scheinberg! OH WOW! HE JUST SCRATCHED HIM IN THE FACE!

MYLDE: That’s girly, but effective. I think he caught him in the eye, too. Eye gouges will kill your entire fight.

OBERSTARR: Harry leaves Eli at the turnbuckles, goes to the other end. HERE HE COMES! SPLASH!

MYLDE: Is that the Dachau Splash?

OBERSTARR: He runs back…ANOTHER SPLASH! The crowd wants another one; he’s gonna give it to them! SPLASH! NO! THIS TIME CAUGHT BY ELI!

(With his back to the crowd, ELI throws HARRY overhead and over the top rope, landing backwards and rolling straight into the guard rail!)

(SFX: THUMP! Followed by ‘OOOOOOH!’)

OBERSTARR: THERE HE GOES! ALL BUCK TWENTY OF HIM! Harry Holocaust just got LAUNCHED over the top rope, and as resilient as he is, even HE has trouble getting up from this one!

MYLDE: With this roster of giants, Scheinberg could regularly expect to be on the receiving end of that deal. But with a guy like Holocaust, who looks like he hasn’t been fed in weeks, he actually has the advantage.

OBERSTARR: HERE COMES ELI! LEAPS OVER THE ROPES AND DROPKICKS HARRY! BOTH MEN ARE DOWN AFTER THAT ONE!

(CROWD POPS!)

MYLDE: This crowd’s fickle like the Romans. They’ll cheer the bigger risk every time.

OBERSTARR: Eli rolls himself into the ring, apparently taking his leisure instead of rolling Harry back in there as well..

MYLDE: Not a smart move by my estimation. Eli likes to take his sweet time, but I wouldn’t let a skinny little scrapper like this Holocaust guy get any more than a few seconds rest. He’s still gotta put him away.

OBERSTARR: Harry climbs back in, stalking a circle around Eli, this time apparently putting more consideration into his next move. They come in to lock up- NO! Harry fakes and goes for the double leg takedown, and he’s firing away at Eli AGAIN!

MYLDE: He’ll fight you like it’s the street, alleyway, barb-wire encased labor camp, whatever!

OBERSTARR: Eli scoots to his side, and he’s up before Harry can grab him.

(SFX: THWACK!)

OBERSTARR: And right away, Eli with the sharp low kicks to the head, neck, and ribcage of Harry Holocaust!

(SFX: THWACK followed by a crowd ‘URAHHH!’ Again: THWACK! URAHHH! THWACK! URAHHH! THWACK! URAHHH!)

MYLDE: Oh man, he’s just pelting him now.

OBERSTARR: UH OH, WATCH IT! Somebody just threw a rather large golden dreidel into the ring! Right away, Eli grabs it and OH! DIGS IT INTO THE HEAD OF HARRY! Now his cranium is leaking, just like his mouth!

MYLDE: Technical wrestling yadda yadda yadda; you throw a weapon into the ring, and that stuff goes out the window FAST!

OBERSTARR: Harry scratches Eli’s face! Dreidel’s been dropped- and RECOVERED by Harry Holocaust! He drives it right into gut of the Manchester native. Here comes Harry off the ropes…and he LEVELS him with that thing…right to the head!

MYLDE: KILLED BY DREIDEL!

OBERSTARR: TWO COUNT ONLY! Harry didn’t hook the leg, but he’s smothering Scheinberg with those bloody red hands of his.

MYLDE: Man, I hope we have tetanus shots available in the back.

OBERSTARR: You don’t think Harry’s clean?

MYLDE: Who said anything about Harry? I brushed up against Strawberry earlier and was concerned for my health.

OBERSTARR: The only thing you needed after groping her was a new pair of whities and a Cialis refill.

MYLDE: Nah, I’m a Viagra man myself.

OBERSTARR: Check this out…Harry’s on the top rope with that dreidel! He’s gonna come down hard on Eli, look out! NO! Eli throws a right fist to the midsection, and Harry’s almost toppled over! Eli off the ropes…SCISSORS KICK BRINGS DOWN HARRY! AND NOW HE’S GOT THE GOLDEN DREIDEL!

MYLDE: Who the hell brought that thing, anyway? Do we have an Hasidic fan base?

OBERSTARR: Hands on his knees, Eli waits with intense patience for Harry to get up! He winds back…

MYLDE: MAZELTOF!

OBERSTARR: HARRY’S DOWN AFTER A DREIDEL TO THE HEAD! ONE…TWOOO…THR-NO! HE KICKED OUT! ELI CAN’T BELIEVE IT!

(Crowd is on its feet, cheering for a finish!)

MYLDE: It’s the dreidel versus the Holocaust!

OBERSTARR: Eli has Harry back up, his head trapped. Here we go! Will this do it? SPIKE PILEDRIVER! HIS HEAD DROVE RIGHT THROUGH THE JEWISH PROJECTILE! ONE! TWO! THREE! HE GOT HIM! ELI WINS!

(SFX: Bell rings)

(CUEUP: “Supersonic” by Oasis)

SIREN: THEEEEEE WINNER OF THE MATCH! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII SCCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNN-hmm-BEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRGGGGAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

OBERSTARR: Eli Scheinberg picks up his first win, and THE first win here on NLW Friday Night Vulgar! And wow, did he ever crack open Harry Holocaust’s head on that dreidel…

MYLDE: Yeah, Happy Hanukah you prick, now hit the bricks!

OBERSTARR: Well I’m not sure we’ve seen the last of Harry Holocaust; guys resilient as he always have a place in the ring, especially here. Stay with us, we’ve gotta go to commercial!

(FADEOUT)

 

[LQJT86C]

v. TAMP-OFF

(FADEIN: A fancy sofa with red circular drip spots all over it. A shadow is cast over the sofa; a man has entered the room)

MAN: Awww, WHO GOT BLOOD ALL OVER MY ITALIAN LEATHER COUCH!

(Freeze-frame)

V/O: (with adjoining text) TAMP-OFF!

(CUTTO: Bloody drip spots all over the rug. A man’s shadow appears)

MAN: DAMN IT! Who in the HELL got blood all over the RUG!

(Freeze-frame)

V/O: TAMP-OFF!

(CUTTO: Young girl with braces puking into a toilet. She pulls her head out)

GIRL: Mommy! I’m bleeding and I don’t understand it!

(Freeze-frame)

V/O: TAMP-OFF!

(CUTTO: A pan of brownies…one has been taken. We hear a loud spitting sound, followed by coughing)

MAN: OWAAAGGGHHH! WHO THE F[BLEEP!] GOT PERIOD BLOOD IN THE BROWNIE BATTER!

(Freeze-frame)

V/O: TAMP-OFF!

(SPLIT-SCREEN CUTTO: Bottle of TAMP-OFF spraying spots of blood before a hand wipes them off the carpet. On the other screen, a bottle of OTHER BRAND attempts to do the same with mixed results)

V/O: TAMP-OFF’s been proven to dissolve that UNWANTED period blood from your carpet, clothes…even your animals’ fur! Our competitors can’t say the same. Here, you see the other guys can’t even dissolve blood in HALF-THE-TIME!

(CUTTO: MAN looking at half-eaten brownie, shaking head)

V/O: So the next time your daughter menstruates without telling anybody, make sure you’re armed with TAMP-OFF! No tamp-ON? No problem!

V/O: TAMP-OFF!

MAN: But how does that help me the next time someone mixes period blood with the brownies?

V/O: TAMP-OFF!

MAN: And I could SWEAR I saw crimson on the silverware!

V/O: TAMP-OFF!

MAN: Screw this, I’m going back to paper towels!

V/O: TAMP-OFF!

MAN: You’re not listening. This stuff doesn’t get the blood out of-

V/O: TAMP-OFF!

MAN: It’s not-

V/O: TAMP-OFF!

MAN: Will you-

V/O: TAMP-OFF!

(CUTTO: Big bottle of TAMP-OFF drops like a ton of bricks onto a plain white shelf)

V/O: TAMP-OFF! …at Rite-Aid and Target!

(FADEOUT)

 

[LQJT86C]

vi. What's my name?

(CUEUP: “La Grange” by ZZ Top)

(FADEIN: The song plays out for some time before the curtains WHISK OPEN, and BOBBY JACK WINDHAM walks out to a mixed reaction. He confidently walks to the ring, not looking in either direction at the crowd. In this arena full of punks, metalheads, alts, and stoners…Bobby Jack stands out in his 10 gallon black cowboy hat, denim jacket, and t-shirt tucked into jeans held up by a Longhorns belt buckle)

OBERSTARR: If you don’t know the face, you certainly know the name. From the first family of wrestling, it’s BOBBY JACK WINDHAM!

MYLDE: Somebody get a rug so he can wipe the cow shit off his boots.

OBERSTARR: No question, the Sweetwater native is out of his element here in Manhattan. Not to be fooled by appearance, this man’s pedigree includes two legendary Uncles, Mark and Troy, who forged two very different paths to their respective legends.

MYLDE: The kid’s gotten more face-time this week than Creflo A. Dollar. He’s clean cut, All-American, and that’s exactly why these bargain bin discount shoppers aren’t on their feet clapping. It’s just, you know…Papa Jimmy’s gotta teach him how to dress. Then he’s set.

(WINDHAM stands in the ring as the crowd quiets)

WINDHAM: Is this on?

(He waits a few seconds while the crowd buzzes)

WINDHAM: Now, I'd like to give mah-self a proper introduction... but I can see that ya'll here ain't exactly 'proper' folks. Not like yours truly, born'n'bred a Texas gentleman, a man who holds the chair out for a lady, a man who says 'yes ma'am" and "no sir" to his elders and... most importantly... I'm someone who knows that when someone else is talking, you best stay quiet and shut your mouth.

(BOOS!)

WINDHAM: That's fine... you can make all the noise you want... I'LL WAIT.

(He drops the mic to his waist and lets the boos ring out. The crowd beings chanting: “YOU’RE AN IN-BRED!” Clap clap clapclapclap)

WINDHAM: Now, I know you good folks are saying to yourselves why I'm not wrestling tonight. Why a man of my accolades... the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal's two time Texas State Athlete of the Year... Three time NCAA Heavyweight collegiate wrestling champion at Texas Tech University... why he is not wrestling on this here show tonight. It's simple. It's because I'M A WINDHAM.

MYLDE: He’s got a point, Oberstarr. I almost didn’t show, myself.

Y'see, the Windham name was MADE not on main events and five star matches on this sport's biggest stages. It wasn't made on opening night matches in some fly-by-night promotion in front of a bunch of lip pierced emo freaks who got in because some Mexican handed them a leaflet as they stepped off of a city bus.

(CROWD: “WE WANT TROY! WE WANT TROY!”)

WINDHAM: Instead of asking for Troy, what you should be asking for is HELP. Because you people... you clearly need someone in your lives to act as a role model. And that person is yours truly. Now, I ask you all to join me right here in prayer... it don't matter what kind of Christian you are, just as long as you're a Christian... and to ask for God's forgiveness.

MYLDE: That’s Gentiles only, Oberstarr.

OBERSTARR: Half of me is offended right now.

WINDHAM: Dear God and Jesus... thank you for giving me the unbelievable talents you have bestowed upon me. For there is no one else alive who can both bench over 450 pounds who can also run a 4.4 40-yard dash time. You have given me the gift to be able to outwrestle anyone alive today, hence my unbeaten record my final three years in college, with the only blemish coming because of a referee who didn't know what he was doin'. Thank you, Father, for making me a Windham... a last name which actually means something on this planet... and a last name which keeps me from performing tonight in front of these ingrates and, instead, saves my performance for a more adequate time.

(CROWD: “ASSSSS-HOLE! ASSSSS-HOLE!”)

WINDHAM: Amen. Thank you and God bless.

MYLDE: Peace be with you, Bobby!

(CUTTO: STATIC)

 

[LQJT86C]

vii. Ford goes under

(CUTTO: The ring , where MATT FORD stands getting ready for his match, some random fans shout rather offensive comments at SIREN, mostly demands for sexual favors as she just stands there no-selling them. After a few moments CUEUP: “New Noise” by Refused. VIC GRAVENDER storms to the ring, looking intense. Gravender has on long black tights, and a black sleeveless shirt that covers his massive frame. His left hand is covered in white tape and the right hand is covered in black tape)

SIREN: AND NOW…COMING TO THE RING…HAILING FROM WATERTOWN!!! NEEEEEEEEWWW YOORRRKKK!!!! WEIGHTING FOUR!!! HUNDRED AND FIIIIIIIIFFFTTTYYYY POUNDS!!!! “THE!!! WATERTOWN WRECK!!!! ING!!!! BALLLLLLLLLL!!!!” VIIIICCCCCCCC!!!! GRAV!!! ENNNNNN!!!! DEEEEEERRRRRR!!!!!

(Gravender shoots SIREN a sideways look as she exits the ring and ref Brian Puter calls for the bell)

OBERSTARR: Vic charges across the ring and gets a double leg on Ford….SPIKES HIM to the mat! Gravender just hammering away on Ford with brutal punches and forearms, just beating the hell out of his opponent!

MYLDE: Is this that MMA thing the kids are all crazy about? Is he gonna go for a Key-More-Ah or whatever that armlock thing is?

OBERSTARR: I think he’s going for the ‘beat the hell out of you’ move…Gravender pulls Ford up to his feet and SMASHES him with a headbutt sending Ford to the mat…Ford gets back up and gets NAILED with another headbutt sending him hard to the mat again…Gravender catches Ford getting back up again and AGAIN blasts him with a headbutt, this time Ford stays down!

(Pop! “F*ck him Vic! F*ck him up!” chant!)

MYLDE: I’ve never understood the headbutt really, it seems to me like you both would get hurt, but I guess this kid has that move figured out…I dunno if that’s impressive or sad.

OBERSTARR: The Watertown Wrecking Ball gets Ford back to his feet and sends him to the opposite corner…Vic gets up a head of steam…HIP ATTACK AVALANCHE IN THE CORNER! (big pop!)

MYLDE: That looked painful; I suggest they go right to dental records to confirm this…Ford character was who he said he was in life.

OBERSTARR: Ford drops to the mat like a sack of bricks, Gravender going to the top rope (crowd buzzing) OFF THE TOP DIVING HEADBUTT INTO THE SHOULDER OF FORD!! Ford doing a dead fish dance on the mat as Gravender gets to his feet, this place is going nuts! (“VIC!” chants!)

MYLDE: There’s nothing quite like watching a bunch of high school drop outs who just cashed their unemployment checks celebrating a very fat man’s success, Vic Lavender, he is America Incarnate.

OBERSTARR: Gravender.

MYLDE: I was close enough…

OBERSTARR: Gravender off the ropes now…GETS BIG AIR…THE BOMB DROP! (“BOOM!” shouted by the crowd!) Ford crushed (One!) into a pulp! (Two!) (Three!) It’s OVER!

(Bell rings, CUEUP: “New Noise” by Refused as the crowd cheers loudly!)

SIREN: HERE IS YOUR WIIIIINNNNNEEEEERRRR!!!!! “THE WATERTOWN!!!! WRREEECCCCKKKIINNNNGGGG BALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!! VIIIIIIIICCCCC!!! GRAV!!! END!!!! DUUUURRRRR!!!!!!!!

OBERSTARR: What an impressive debut for Vic Gravender as he just mauled Matt Ford. This crowd is loving it…

(CUTTO: STATIC)

 

[LQJT86C]

viii. SURPRISE!

(CUTTO: NLW Owner RA PALAZZO stands in the middle of the ring. He’s a tall, fit guy, shaved head, wearing jeans and a black RVCA t-shirt. He’s got a microphone in his hands)

PALAZZO: For those of you who don’t know me, or who I didn’t get a chance to meet at the fan expo or the table this week…my name is RA Palazzo, and I’m the owner of Next Level Wrestling.

(BIG POP!)

OBERSTARR: Always good when the fans shill the product…

MYLDE: Rubes. At least there’s a paycheck in it for me.

PALAZZO: Now I’m not out here dressed to the nines, I didn’t enter to theme music- though if I did, it’d be to Soundgarden (small pop!). I’m not here laying down challenges “BROTHER!” or playing the spoiler, or any of that silly shit. The talent’s in the locker room, I just sign the f[BLEEP!]king paychecks. (Cheers!) With that out of the way, I have an announcement…

…and it’s got nothing to do with our pay-per-view on Saturday, March 27th, and how it’s gonna be held at the XL Center in Hartford… (POPS!) …and how tickets are on sale right now… (smiles, laughs, more cheers) Yeah, we WILL be crowning our very first World Open Weight Champion at Eye for an Eye in March…and the venue announcement WAS my only reason for being out here tonight. Until something happened…

MYLDE: Do I sense a swerve?

PALAZZO: I ran into somebody a little while ago- somebody I’ve known for a long time. He's not a mega-star, he's not a rookie, he's not a has-been. Quite frankly, I don't know if we could afford him if we wanted to. I asked him why he showed up tonight, and he said - and I'm quoting – “We were hanging out down the street at Last Rites and thought we'd come check out what you guys were doing.”

(SFX: A buzz runs through the crowd, with murmurs of anticipation.)

PALAZZO: Would you please welcome! FROM ABOUT A HUNDRED AND EIGHTY BLOCKS UPTWON!

(CUE UP: Well, it was a regimented drum beat, and the cheers of the fans drowned out what PALAZZO said next. No worries, since it was pretty obvious)

“LEFT, LEFT, LEFT RIGHT LEFT... LEFT, LEFT, LEFT RIGHT LEFT...”

(The fans by the entranceway all stand up, and the camera crew hustles to get someone by the two people who just stepped into the arena)

OBERSTARR: OH MY!

MYLDE: Well that’s a familiar tune…

“Revolution, baby... that's my sound... If you think it's crazy, well turn it down.”

(Two people: Randall Knox- IMPULSE! Rosalyn Callasantos- CALICO ROSIE)

OBERSTARR: IT’S IMPULSE! HE’S IN THE HOUSE! PALAZZO PULLS OUT THE ACE FROM HIS SLEEVE!

MYLDE: Bullcrap, I thought I was the ace?

“Revolution, baby... we're in and out. No more feeling lazy, we're back in town....”

(IMPULSE and ROSE waste no time in walking to the ring, and they both slap as many hands as reached for them on the way. Impulse is the first one up the ring steps, and he holds the ropes for Rose to step inside the ring itself)

“You got yours, and I want mine, I WANT MINE! Wa wa wee wa bang, I get it. One more gigawatt, and we can turn it around”

(Once both of them are inside, Impulse shakes Palazzo's hand, and takes the microphone from him)

OBERSTARR: Unbelievable! This show may not be a star-studded affair, but Palazzo, being the showman he is…he wasn’t gonna end the night without a surprise or two!

“And around, and around and around... and around and around and around, turn that down! Wa wa wee wa bang, let's burn it down...”

(The music fades; Impulse nods at the cheers that are still lingering, and he starts them up again by stepping to the side and gesturing toward Rose. The cheers are louder for a few seconds, then finally quiet down)

IMPULSE: So we're hangin' out, just another night in Hell's Kitchen, and Rosie said to me, isn't that new indy starting up tonight? I said yeah, but we didn't think to get our tickets in advance and the building's sold out. Now, based on what we've seen tonight, I have a feeling that's gonna continue for the forseeable future.

(SFX: Cheers from the fans, newly minted chant of "NEXT LE-VEL! NEXT LE-VEL!" sounded from all corners, and Impulse allows a small smirk to form on his face)

MYLDE: Apparently he’s Warren Buffet now…

IMPULSE: Rosie said, let's take a walk down there anyways. It always seemed like, if you're a wrestler, you can get into any show anywhere in the country just by saying, “I am a wrestler.” It's the ultimate backstage pass, and I gotta tell you...

(He looks at Palazzo and taps his fist to his chest)

IMPULSE: It works.

(SFX: More cheers from the fans)

IMPULSE: Now, I've made no secret of the fact that, for the past two years, Baltimore - based New Frontier Wrestling is, and has been, where Impulse calls his home.

(Boos erupt, not necessarily for the NFW, but for the mention of another city)

IMPULSE: BUT... but... Right here, this town, this city...

(He looks at Rosie, and subtly squeezes her hand)

IMPULSE: New York City is where RANDALL KNOX calls home!

(There's the cheers)

OBERSTARR: It’s true- this is his town.

MYLDE: That ain’t a badge of honor when David Berkowitz can say the same.

IMPULSE: So, Mr. Palazzo... if our being here can help get your new wrestling promotion off the ground... then we're happy to do it.

(He lowers the microphone and shakes the owner's hand)

PALAZZO: I’ll take you at your word.

(Impulse turns and begins to walk out, until…)

PALAZZO: So you wanna wrestle tonight or what?

(HUGE POP! Impulse looks around, smiles, before turning back to Palazzo and grabbing the mic)

OBERSTARR: Oh my! Palazzo making waves here, trying to get rising star IMPULSE in action on our first show!

IMPULSE: The people have spoken, sir. Looking forward to it.

PALAZZO: Boys and girls, it looks like we’ve got a MAIN EVENT!

(CHEERS GET LOUDER!)

PALAZZO: By the way, we’re not live, so keep this shit off the internet, f[BLEEP]kers. (Smiles)

MYLDE: Is this really happening?

OBERSTARR: YOU HEARD THE MAN! IMPULSE IN AN NLW RING- TONIGHT! I’M MARKING OUT!

(CUTTO: STATIC)

 

[LQJT86C]

ix. Johnson v. Magnus

(CUTTO: The ring where SIREN stands waiting to introduce the next match. After a beat CUEUP: “Normal Like You” by Everclear. “Normal” John Johnson makes his way through the curtain to a bit of booing, some of the crowd not exactly sure what to make of the guy. Johnson has on sports goggles, black tights under bright orange basketball shorts that have “NJJ” in electric blue on both thighs. His ring boots are electric blue with bright orange laces. On his right arm is an electric blue wristband and his left arm has a bright orange elbow pad. To finish this outfit off is a black T-Shirt with “Normal Like you” written on it.)

MYLDE: Holy sh*t…When did Boise State’s mascot join NLW?!

OBERSTARR: That’s “Normal” John Johnson, Jimmy.

MYLDE: Oh…To hell with this guy then…These kids can’t dress themselves anymore…
SIREN: INTRODUCING FIRST!!! FROOOOOM BUZZZARDS!!!! BAAAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!!! MASS!! A!! CHEW!!!! SETTTTS!!! WEIGHTING IN AT TWO HUNDRED AND THHHHHIRRRYYY THREEEEEEE POUNDS!!! “NORRRRRRRMALLLLLLLL!!!!” JOHN!!! JOOOOOOOHHHHHHNNNNNNSSSSSSSSSSSSOOOOONN!!!!!

(Johnson hits the ring, the crowd now more vocally jeering him. His music fades out, after a beat CUEUP: “Conquer All” by Behemoth hits on the PA. The crowd starts cheering as Magnus Destructo bursts through the curtain wearing a black singlet with spiked shoulder pads and chain mail hanging over his chest. Spiked shin guards over black ring boots and a polished silver gladiator’s helmet finishes his wardrobe. His face is painted white with black circles over his eyes.)

MYLDE: What I said about the idiot in the ring applies double for this guy, he REALLY can’t dress himself.

OBERSTARR: Magnus Destructo bringing this crowd to its feet here in the Hammerstein Ballroom!

MYLDE: It figures idiots would cheer for the even more poorly dressed fellow, doesn’t anyone have a mirror? Or care what they look like anymore? I’m almost ashamed to be here, except that the money is too good to pass up.

SIREN: AND…HISSSSSS OOOOPPOOONNNEENNTTTT!!! FROM THE CARPATHHHHHHIIIIIIAAAANNNNN MOUNTAAAAAAIIIIINNNNNSSSS…WEIGHING TWOOOOOOOO HUNDDDRRRRREEEEENNNNDDD AND EIGHTY!!! SEVVVVEEEENNNN!!!! POUNDS!! MAG!!!! NUSSSSS!!!!! DEEEEEE!!!! STRUC!!!! TOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

(Crowd roars in approval as Magnus begins taking off all of his various and sundry spiked entrance attire.)

MYLDE: My goodness that woman is maybe 120 pounds tops and at least 70 of it is lung…

(SIREN exits the ring and Dennis Coates calls for the bell. The two men circle)

OBERSTARR: And we’re underway here. Magnus and Johnson lock up, and Magnus just shoves Johnson back, and now SMASHES him with a forearm…Johnson staggers as Magnus now firing away with a series of right hands that staggers Johnson, Johnson on rubber legs and Magnus hauls back and SLAPS him to the ground!

(Crowd chants “You got b*tch slapped!” <Clapping> “You got b*tch slapped!” at Johnson)

MYLDE: I don’t know if it’s normal to be humiliated in front of a thousand or so people…This Johnson fellow might have to change his nickname to “Pitiful” or something.

OBERSTARR: Johnson pops back to his feet and the two men trading punches…Magnus forces Johnson back into the corner..Magnus now CHOKING THE LIFE OUT OF JOHNSON

(Camera gets in tight on Magnus as he sticks his tongue out and lets out a growl as the ref gives him the count. Crowd chants “F*ck him up Magnus! F*ck him up!”)

MYLDE: This isn’t exactly…Well wrestling in there, this painted up maniac is just choking and hitting the poor guy who must be colorblind or something…

OBERSTARR: Johnson whipped to the other corner and he staggers out…INTO A HUGE BOOT from Magnus! Johnson crashes to the mat and now Magnus off the ropes…DROPS A BIG ELBOW! Magnus covers! (one!) Is this it?! (two!) NO! Johnson kicks out! Magnus back to his feet stomping away on Johnson and now he sets up Johnson in the middle of the ring…Magnus off the ropes…MASSIVE CLOTHESLINE! HE NEARLY BEHEADED JOHNSON!

MYLDE: So exactly what is this Magnus guy’s deal anyhow? Why is he wearing all that make up? Is he the guy who’s like thousands of years old?

OBERSTARR: No Jimmy, just go back to sleep or whatever it is you do when you’re not burying the product.

MYLDE: I got pull with Palazzo, I say the word and that Media Baron kid will be in that chair for the main event.

OBERSTABB: While my broadcast partner makes empty threats, Magnus now pulls Johnson to his feet and now he’s trying to lift Johnson…HE’S GOT HIM UP…MY GOODNESS…MAGNUS WITH A PRESS SLAM OF JOHNSON! Johns rolls to the floor, he’s trying to get his wits about him, what a beating he’s taken from Magnus so far.
MYLDE: Hey, my ears are still ringing from that harpy we have doing the ring announcing and nobody’s hailing my iron resolve to finish this job.

OBERSTARR: Magnus now out on the floor and he BASHES Johnson’s head into the ring post…And now he REPEATEDLY SMASHES JOHNSON’S HEAD INTO THE STEPS!! Johnson collapses to the floor and he’s BUSTED WIDE OPEN!

(Magnus screams “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!” and the crowd roars in approval!)

MYLDE: Why aren’t the paramedics running out to stop the bleeding?

OBERSTARR: This is wrestling Jimmy, we don’t stop a match over a cut.

MYLDE: Oh...Guess I was just dreaming things that I saw on TV…

OBERSTARR: Magnus now throwing Johnson into the ring…Magnus screaming at the crowd…Terence in the front row is screaming back at him, the two of them are freaking out at the railing here…WAIT!! JOHNSON JUST HIT A BASEBALL SLIDE INTO MAGNUS SENDING HIM INTO TERENCE!

MYLDE: How sad the resident moron got laid out…

OBERSTARR: Johnson quickly to the floor and now smashing Magnus’ face into the railing…Magnus now gets a face full of RINGPOST! Magnus staggering and Johnson throws him into the ring…Johnson waits on Magnus to get to his feet…SPINNING WHEEL KICK floors the Madman from the Carpathian Mountains!

(Crowd chants “You still suck!” “You still suck!” at Johnson)

MYLDE: Don’t go giving these cretins nicknames, it only encourages them!

OBERSTARR: Johnson up to the second rope now, he’s waiting on Magnus who drunk walks to his feet, and RIGHT INTO A BULLDOG OFF THE SECOND ROPE! Magnus planted, and after weathering a brutal early onslaught, John Johnson has taken control of this match, much to the dismay of the Hammerstein Ballroom!

MYLDE: What a sad moment, for all these scumbags to see their new idiot hero lose to a guy who has the only goal in life is to be average.

OBERSTARR: Johnson now going back to the ropes…Again up on the second rope waiting for Magnus to get to his feet…Johnson with a BIG DOUBLE AXE HANDLE TO THE HEAD! Magnus down and Johnson with a cover! (One!) (Two!) TWO! AND NO! Magnus kicks out! (Crowd clapping!) Johnson now moves Magnus into a seated position on the mat and rushes off the ropes…DROPKICK RIGHT INTO THE FACE OF MAGNUS! Johnson another cover! (One!) Leg is hooked (Two!) AND NO! Again Magnus gets a shoulder up!

MYLDE: He’ll crack. This Average fellow here is pretty solid…

OBERSTAR: That’s Normal, not average, Jimmy….

MYLDE: Same damn thing, quit bothering me with your technicalities…

OBERSTARR: Johnson now gives Magnus a couple right hands to the face and now Johnson moves towards the corner and he’s tapping his elbow. I think he’s gonna try to end this with a discus elbow.

MYLDE: Really? What a brain surgeon you are.

OBERSTARR: While my partner continues to bring nothing to this broadcast, Johnson waiting on Magnus to get to his feet…Magnus is finally up…Johnson lunges…DISCUS ELBOW!! NO!! MAGNUS DUCKS! Johnson spins around, right into a big KICK TO THE GUT…Magnus now grabs Johnson…LIFTS HIM UP…DESTRUCTO-BOMB! HE HIT THAT OUT OF NOWHERE!! HE COVERS!! (One!) (Two!) (Three!) HE GOT HIM!!!

(Bell rings, crowd cheering as “Conquer All” by Behemoth plays over the PA)
SIREN: HERE!!! IS YOUR WWIIIIIINNNNNEEEEERRR!!!! MAG!! NUSSSSSSS!!!! DEEEEEEE!!!!! STRUCT!!!! TOOOOOEEEEE!!!!!!

(Magnus stomps around the ring, brandishing his tongue at the crowd, who are starting a loud “Magnus!” chant)

OBERSTARR: Just like that, with one crushing move, Magnus Destructo wins this big match over John Johnson and clearly has found a home with the fans of the Hammerstein Ballroom.

MYLDE: Then I’m glad as all hell I don’t live here, to heck with these people.

(CUTTO: STATIC)

 

[LQJT86C]

x. How the f*ck did he get under there?

(CUTTO: An overview of Hammerstein which quickly fades to a shot of the mezzanine, where a drunk female fan, whose face isn’t nearly as nice as her titties, has her arms out all like “COME FAAAGHHT ME YOU BYYYYIIITTCH!” while she mouths off to a dude sitting nearby. The guy is laughing, cursing back at her, but she’s DEAD SERIOUS trying to fight him! People are yelling “THROW THAT DRUNK SKANK OUT!” Security finally comes over, trying to calm her, but she throws a beer in the dude’s face which prompts a beefy usher to suplex her backwards before carrying her to the exit. People clap for this! All the while “MX” by Deftones is playing over the PA)

OBERSTARR: Times are tough, people are broke, and NLW plays its proverbial fiddle while Rome burns. It’s the NEXT LEVEL, and we’ve returned here at the Hammerstein in NEW-YORK-CITY!

MYLDE: Check out the ring, buddy boy. Looks like there’s a troll beneath our bridge…

(CUTTO: A bottle of Polish Potato Vodka rolls out from underneath the ring. Some dude with giant eye glasses pulls himself halfway out, but gets stuck momentarily. He shuffles his weight a bit- and a large weight it is – causing more liquor bottles to roll out into the guard rail, plus some napkins and shit)

OBERSTARR: All I see is a giant head and a few empty bottles of Sambuca running away from it.

MYLDE: Who’s under there- my wife?

(Finally, he’s out! This overweight creature of a man- and boy he’s huge – stands up and immediately stumbles backward into the apron. He’s wearing track pants with a significant tear down the left leg, along with a severely stained button down emblazoned with flames on either breast which scream out “I like shit like Poison and Ratt”)

OBERSTARR: That looks to be…well, I’m almost positive it’s ZESTY MORDANT, one of our own. And if I recall, he’s going to be one of the eight Monsters we’ve got in the larger weight division tournament.

MYLDE: Ya think?

(With glazed eyes, he walks along the guard rail and just grabs a soda from the hands of a fan WITHOUT EVEN LOOKING! Uh oh, the fan doesn’t let go, pulling the man back towards him. Soda spills over both their hands, and the man still refuses to make eye contact- violently pulling the cup away from the fan, and turning to hit him with a violent left hook. Other fans step in to get at the man, but he backs off, raising his hands up like “I ain’t botherin’ nobody!” He pours some soft drink into his mouth, immediately spilling some on his shirt)

MYLDE: Beautiful; it’s day one and already we’re beating up paid customers. Can we cut to commercial, or do we lack sponsorship?

OBERSTARR: Actually, we’re moments away from the next match! We just need Zesty to leave ringside, which…well, he’s climbing into the ring now, Jimmy.

MYLDE: I’m five seconds away from booting up Margaritaville on the iPod and…OH NO! He’s kicking the crap out of Dave Nolan! Nevermind, I wanna SEE THIS!

OBERSTARR: Head referee David Nolan, attempting to kick Zesty out of the ring, got kicked himself- literally…two feet across the mat! Zesty’s stomping on him- here comes security!

(With his drink in one hand, the ropes in the other, ZESTY stomps the crap out of DAVID NOLAN repeatedly, until a small fleet of guards come storming out to apprehend him! They’re having a bit of trouble restraining the big guy, but they finally get him off Nolan. One of the guards pulls him back, prompting Zesty to spill his drink!)

ZESTY: Watch out man, there’s a beverage! (Scuffle) THERE’S A BEVERAGE! ARGHH!

(CUTTO: STATIC)

(CUTTO: 10 minutes later, ‘THE BLUE BASTARD’ ZESTY MORDANT is outside the building, pacing back and forth, visibly pissed off. He plops down on an old metal folding chair, all in a huff. A small cloud of dust, crumbs, exhaled cigarette smoke and Christ knows what else circles around him a few seconds before fading away into the purity of the stank locker room air. He lights up a butt as he shakes his head, the lighter trailing the butt catching up to it here and there until finally fully lit)

ZESTY: What in the shit was that aboot? That was f&cked! I'm just minding my peas and carrots, trying to get some shut-in and sleep off a major f&ckin hanged-over and then all these dicks are screaming and clapping and some idiots ringing a bell like its the shitdamned Olympics or something. What in the f&ck is wrong with trying to get some rest? Then some rabbit dick thinks he's all cool standing around in a boxedining ring with some old timey prison shirt on like he thinks he's too good for jail; well, f&ck him! He can f&ck right off if he thinks he can stand around and diss jail. Jail's f&ckin awesome, okay? You get three good meals, your own shitter, they've always got the strongest booze and the weed and hash is f&ckin dope as twat. People visit you and stuff, you get plenty of time to exercise and meet good people and make lengthened and long-stringed friendshapes.

(He gets up and points at the camera, crumbs and dandruff cascade from his stained, rumpled shirt. He evidently believes he's addressing the referee)

Don't f&ckin diss jail in your old timey stripey shirt or I'll stomp your blue man groups right off your f&ckin pelvicimis minimus, asslot!

(He briefly paces before sitting back down and relighting his recently extinguished butt)

Now some cock in a dicksuit says I signed some confractual aggrievement to wrestle which honestly is fine with me. I'm looking forward to spanking some asses and babysitting these sissies and making up the rules. My first match better be with Jail Hater McStripeyfart 'cos that slapfest was just the start if he wants to keep dissing one of the best instasituations this country has to bettor...

(His eyes stray from the lens and widen, his head turns like an oscillating fan but stops at 90 degrees off center. The camera quickly pans over to catch STRAWBERRY BITCH walking out of frame)

Holy f&ck she looks good, who is that? She's got like elephantyphus of the tits! Boys, I gotta go, I'll talk to you later.

(CUTTO: STATIC)

 

[LQJT86C]

xi. Electric v. Lust

(CUTTO: Standing in front of an NLW backdrop-BRIAN OBERSTARR and JIMMY MYLDE! “Hell” by Squirrel Nut Zippers plays in the background)

OBERSTARR: We’re BACK here on Friday Night Vulgar, and Jimmy…our next match features somewhat of an enigma in the world of professional wrestling. The ‘MYSTIC WANDERER’, the ‘SCOURGE OF MONOGAMY’ WANDERLUST, has shown up from GOD KNOWS WHERE in search of a…“glimmering waist accessory”…?

MYLDE: BELT to the lay-man, Bri-Bri.

OBERSTARR: Well his opponent tonight, ‘ELECTRIC’ EDDIE PATTON, isn’t carrying one of those…but the road to the OPEN WEIGHT BELT might indeed run through him, as both men will be seeded in the Golden Boy Grand Prix. Patton’s the more experienced wrestler of the two-

MYLDE: Officially, Oberstarr, officially. God knows how many slogs, scalliwags, and brutish ogres Wanderlust had to vanquish in the back alleys of Oceanic romper-stompers and the shipyards of St. Croix.

OBERSTARR: -however, Wanderlust has a height and size advantage. Will it work in his favor?

MYLDE: (Stares) What, you’re asking me? I don’t know, Ober-Wan, it’s like the man says: size DOES matter, and that’s more than just the ‘Extenze’ tagline- it’s the TRUTH! Patton might have squeezed a few jockstraps in his time, but tonight he’s facing more than just your run of the mill ‘Indy hero’. Wanderlust is a true ‘Man of the World’, a man for all seasons…and for Eddie Patton, this might be the SEASON of his discontent. (smiles) Ya like that?

OBERSTARR: (shakes head) Let’s go to Siren…

(CUTTO: The ring where SIREN’s standing with the mic)

SIREN: Theeeee following contessssssst is scheduled for ONE FALL!

(The arena lights dim; “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC begins to play over the PA as blue and white lights flash at the entrance curtains before becoming a single strobelight. The strobe flashes quickly to keep pace with Angus’ scale notes. The crowd chants along- THUN-DAH! THUN-DAH! THUN-DAH!)

SIREN: IN-TER-A-DUUUUUCIIIIIIIIING FIRST! FROM GARY, INDIANA! HEEEEEEEEEEE STANDS FIVE FEET! ELEVENNNNN INCHEEEEZZZZZ! HE WEEEEEEIGHS IN AT TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY THREE POUNDS!

(She lets the music build up more; the crowd continues to chant. And just like that- BOOM! The chorus kicks in, EDDIE PATTON storms out! He rushes to either side of the railing, dressed in blue wrestling pants with yellow bolts on both sides, plus matching boots and wristbands)

SIREN: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTOOOOOOOOOOOOON! or…ELECTRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIC!

(EDDIE PATTON slides face first under the ring and immediately jumps up a turnbuckle to throw his arms up at the audience)

OBERSTARR: He’s on all cylinders for his NLW debut- ‘ELECTRIC’ EDDIE PATTON!

MYLDE: I’m trying to think of a joke comparing electric to battery operated, and somehow tie it into sex. Help me out here, Oberstarr!

OBERSTARR: Sorry, way above my pay grade.

SIREN: AND HIS OPPONENT!

(CUEUP: “Jupiter (Bringer of Jollity)” by Gustav Holst)

(“WHAT THE F*CK? Is this guy serious?” That basically summarizes the collective thoughts of this punk/metal audience which bares witness to WANDERLUST gracefully entering to the triumphant symphony blaring over the PA system. No light dimming, no strobes, no nothing. It’s just this guy and his biographer, chronicler of all his glorious carnal conquests, TRASHY ROMANCE. They don’t even know this guy, and already the crowd hates him)

SIREN: WEIGHING IN TONIGHT AT TWO HUNDRED, TWENTY SIX POUNDS…STANDING SIX FOOT hmm-THREEEEEE! Heeee is accompanied by TRRRRRR(rolls the Rs)RRRRRRRRRRRRASHY ROMANCE-AH! HAILING FROM PARTS…UNKNOWN! WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAANDERRRRRRRRRRRRRLUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTT!

(WANDERLUST climbs inside the ring through ropes held open by TRASHY ROMANCE, immediately outstretching his hands while spinning just a bit. He stops and inhales- and is mercilessly BOOED!)

OBERSTARR: Render them unimpressed, Jimmy.

MYLDE: Of course they weren’t impressed. That was one hell of a classy entrance, and none of these people know a damn thing about class since most of them skipped it ‘til they were eligible to drop out. Case closed.

OBERSTARR: Wanderlust immediately locks the waist- reversed by Patton! Wanderlust looking the Kimura but Eddie Patton’s got him locked up tight. The Mystic-Wanderer drives Patton backwards, but gets reversed-tossed into the turnbuckle! Patton with a LOUD CHOP!

(SFX: SMACK!)

(WANDERLUST takes it with a grin, looking at PATTON like he dares him to do it again)

(SFX: SMACK!)

OBERSTARR: Another chop! Nothing! Wanderlust daring Patton to hit him one more time…he winds up…

(SFX: LOUD SMACK followed by ‘OOOOH!’)

OBERSTARR: There’s red marks all over the massive chest of Wanderlust, but he’s not phased, wagging a finger at Patton.

MYLDE: You can’t hurt the chest of Wanderlust, it’s like a plate of armor! And lemme tell you…I got myself to the hotel gym this morning. Wanderlust was on the pec-fly machine, so I decided to wait. Three hours later, Oberstarr- HE WAS STILL GOING!

OBERSTARR: Patton fakes a chop…dropkick! Forearm! Here we go- Fireman’s carry! No, Wanderlust traps the arms for a roll-up! TWOOOO! CLOSE, but no cigar! Wanderlust immediately bullhorns Patton by the hair, shoving him down! Referee making a count, but he just swings Patton to the side!

(BOOS! WANDERLUST extends his arms, smiles at the crowd)

MYLDE: Hey, it ain’t his fault. No address, so they never sent him a rulebook.

OBERSTARR: Ignorance of the law is no excuse for breaking it. Another hook up, this time Patton gets the hammerlock. Wanderlust unable to execute the reversal- OH! He threw a mule kick to Patton’s groin! Wanderlust off the ropes- running elbow planted RIGHT ON THE JAW!

MYLDE: Patton’s treating this like an NCAA meet, Wanderlust’s treating it like an alley scrap. The results speak for themselves.

OBERSTARR: The result’s gonna be a disqualification at this rate! There are no count-outs here in NLW, and the definition of foreign objects doesn’t include chairs, tables, or anything found at ringside. However, rakes, the pulling of hair, shots to the groin, all are grounds for disqualification if abused enough, and Wanderlust is treading that line. Here’s a snap mare, and a knee to the spine! Patton is being worn down early here; Wanderlust trying to kill some of that electric energy he brings.

MYLDE: No, he’s trying to bottle it so he can power a pair of nipple clamps. No I’m kidding, he’s actually trying to kill it.

OBERSTARR: You might have had it right the first time. Wanderlust bringing Patton to the turnbuckle- Patton stops it with his foot. Wanderlust gets his head smashed into the turnbuckle! Patton from the second rope- SPRING BOARD DROP KICK!

(CHEERS!)

OBERSTARR: Wanderlust is up, but stumbling. Armdrag takedown from Patton! He stumbles at Patton again! SUPERKICK! WANDERLUST HITS THE MAT, UP AGAIN STUMBLING- HE’S IN LA-LA-LAND! AND HE FALLS RIGHT THROUGH THE ROPES TO THE OUTSIDE!

(TRASHY ROMANCE scampers over to WANDERLUST and pours some water over his head, but Wanderlust backhands the bottle out of his hand)

MYLDE: You see the pace this kid keeps? Pretty soon we’ll be calling him ‘Cocaine’ Eddie Patton.

OBERSTARR: Wanderlust skirting around the railing now; and one would think Eddie Patton should be going after the Mystic-Wanderer, am I right Jimmy?

MYLDE: You are indeed, but not often. This is a much needed break for Wanderlust; classic rookie mistake on Patton’s part.

(WANDERLUST is keeled over the railing, but slowly raises his head to meet his gaze with an attractive older woman sitting ringside. She smiles looking back at him as he takes her by the hand, kissing it…slipping off her wedding ring)

OBERSTARR: Referee Brian Puter’s warning Wanderlust for stalling the match- he seems to be distracted by a female sitting ringside.

MYLDE: He’s playing the sympathy card, that DOG!

(The woman’s husband gets back to his seat with two sodas and popcorn in his hand, only to drop them in disgust when he sees what’s going on! He scuffles with Wanderlust to the ring back, but Wanderlust DECKS HIM!)

MYLDE: There goes another fan! We’re going for the record, Ober-wan!

OBERSTARR: Come on ref, get him back in the ring!

(The woman can be heard saying, “Oh my God hunny, are you OK?!” Her husband replies angrily, “DON’T TALK TO ME! YOU’RE A WHORE!” Out of nowhere, EDDIE PATTON comes flying over the ropes with a CROSS BODY SPLASH that smacks WANDERLUST into the guard rail, literally moving it back a few feet)

CROWD: “OOOOOOH!”

OBERSTARR: PATTON JUST NAILED WANDERLUST WITH A CROSS BODY! NOW WE’VE GOT A MATCH! Patton, slow to get up; Wanderlust, NOT getting up! Patton’s got him by the head and rolls him into the ring.

MYLDE: This is why women should be barred from professional sporting events. Distracting athletes, starting fights, and they don’t even know what’s going on!

OBERSTARR: Wanderlust still down, and Electric’s on the top turnbuckle! HERE WE GOOOOO…YES! FLYING LEG DROP! ONE! TWOOOO! THIS IIIIS-NO! ONLY TWO! BUT WANDERLUST MIGHT NOT HAVE MUCH LEFT!

(PATTON can’t believe the two! He wipes his hand across his lip, checks it for blood, and stands up)

OBERSTARR: Patton puts him in a standing headlock, perhaps going for the bulldog? No, Wanderlust has a hold of his hair! Referee checks but Wanderlust releases. Patton for the bulldog again- no, another hair pull!

PATTON: He’s got the hair! HE’S GOT THE HAIR! COME ON!

OBERSTARR: Eddie Patton, clearly fed up with his opponent’s tactics, but the hair is released. One more time, for the bulldog! Reeled back by the hair! Brian Puter breaks both holds and warns Wanderlust.

MYLDE: Hey, if you can’t break the hold, get the ref to do it for you.

OBERSTARR: Wanderlust clearly out of breath- I hope his various conquests don’t deplete his cardio this poorly.

(WANDERLUST, with his hands on his knees, flicks his fingers into the eyes of PATTON quickly. Mass booing ensues!)

REFEREE: I’m warning you ONE MORE TIME- you pull any of that shit again…listen to me! You pull that shit again I’m disqualifying you. I’m not fucking around Wanderlust; give these people a match.

OBERSTARR: Brian Puter issuing a stern warning to Wanderlust. They go to lock up, Patton still blinking- but Wanderlust surprises him with a stomp to the knee! Uppercut to the jaw, followed by an elbow that has Patton reeling! Wanderlust with some momentum now…here he comes of the ropes- FLYING SHOULDER BLOCK!

(WANDERLUST stays on his back a second to inhale/exhale, then rolls over and finally makes the cover)

OBERSTARR: ONE! TWO! TWO COUNT! Wanderlust crawls over to the rope to pull himself up. He’s waiting on Patton to do the same. Now Patton’s up- OOOOH MY! Did you see that? Wanderlust just DECAPITATED Patton with a running clothesline!

MYLDE: All that sculptured muscle will preoccupy the oxygen in your body, but you know what? You get clipped like that from a guy like Wanderlust, I don’t care how tired he is, you’re getting put on your ass.

OBERSTARR: Now he has Patton bent backwards- lifts him up! Inverted powerbomb? No! Patton lands behind him! CIRCUIT BREAKER! THIS COULD END WANDERLUST’S NIGHT! PATTON CRAWLS OVER FOR THE PIN…WILL IT BE ENOUGH? ONE! TWO! OH COME ON!

MYLDE: Hey, rules are rules, no three count!

OBERSTARR: Trashy Romance got Wanderlust’s leg on the rope; ref didn’t see it, match continues! Patton still shook from that hard clothesline he took a moment ago. He drags Wanderlust to the center of the ring...for the cover! ONE! TWO! THREE! NO THREE! HE DIDN’T GET HIM!

MYLDE: That’s what he should’ve done in the first place.

OBERSTARR: Patton with the Irish whip, no- he’s reversed into the turnbuckles, chest first! He stumbles back…NECKBREAKER! OOOH DID YOU HEAR THAT? VICIOUS! Wanderlust with a standing knee drop to Patton’s head! ONE…TWOOOO…AAAAND NO! Patton’s still alive!

(WANDERLUST quickly puts him in a sleeper- rest hold)

CROWD: “EDD-IE! EDD-IE! EDD-IE!”

OBERSTARR: They’re trying to will Eddie back to his feet here at the Manhattan Center! Wanderlust holding on tight- no, he releases the hold to drop an elbow to Patton’s back! Now a right hand to the head! Patton slowly standing up, but he takes another shot from Wanderlust! Wanderlust…applies the sleeper again!

MYLDE: Any time he wants to, Wanderlust could whip it out and KO this punk. WHAT?! I’m just sayin’- he could do it!

OBERSTARR: Patton fighting to get to the ropes- he’s close! Wait a minute, he lifts himself up…kicks off the ropes and backwards into a pin! HE’S GOT HIM! ONE! TWOOOOOO! THREE! NO! WANDERLUST GOT HIM OFF IN TIME! SO CLOSE!

(TRASHY ROMANCE bangs on the mat furiously, the apprentice yelling for his master to recover!)

OBERSTARR: What a match we’ve got here tonight! These two are depleted, but I’d say Patton is the fresher of the two! He’s up first, but Wanderlust lands a quick right to the gut! Knee to the temple! Wanderlust doing all he can to wear Patton down!

MYLDE: Usually when he wants to wear someone out, he does something else, which for obvious reasons can’t happen here tonight; unless maybe he’s bilingual?

OBERSTARR: You mean bisexual?

MYLDE: No, damn it, bilingual is what I said!

OBERSTARR: Here we go, Wanderlust has Patton set up to be driven skull first into the mat! PILEDRIVE! HE SPIKED HIM! HE HOOKS THE LEG! TWOOOO! THR-ALMOST! HE ALMOST HAD HIM! What does Wanderlust have to DO…to put Eddie Patton out of commission!

MYLDE: Slip him a roofie…a tactic all too familiar to the ‘Scourge of Monogamy’.

OBERSTARR: Wanderlust’s insistent, and he’s going for another piledriver! He has him set up! NO! PATTON LIFTS HIM UP AND OVER! WANDERLUST ON HIS BACK, A POSITION NORMALLY WORKING IN HIS FAVOR, BUT NOT TONIGHT!

MYLDE: Phew! I thought they were gonna try that ‘Canadian Destroyer’ bullshit.

OBERSTARR: Patton back up the turnbuckle. He’s looking to put an exclamation on this!

(CROWD RISES IN ANTICIPATION!)

OBERSTARR: FROGSPLASH! MISSED! PATTON IS HURT! WANDERLUST IS UP, HE’S GOT PATTON BY THE ARMS! DOUBLE-UNDERHOOK DDT! HE’S DONE! HE’S DONE! WANDERLUST ROLLS HIM OVER, SLOWLY…FOR THE PIN AND THE WIN! ONE…TWOOOOO….THREE! NO! NO! NO! EDDIE’S UP!

CROWD: “HE’S GOT BALLS! HE’S GOT BALLS!”

MYLDE: Come on Wanderlust, stop toying with him! Trashy, get in there!

OBERSTARR: He’s got Patton up again- INSIDE CRADLE FROM PATTON! TWO! THREE! NO! THIS TIME WANDERLUST ESCAPES DEFEAT! Wanderlust gets right back up and plants a knee across Eddie’s face! Wanderlust clearly getting frustrated with his opponent; and he drives an elbow RIGHT ON THE SPINE!

MYLDE: He might just have to whip it out after all!

OBERSTARR: He’s stomping Patton, elbowing him, doing everything he can to break his will! Here we go- Irish whip from Wanderlust! REVERSED! Wanderlust off the ropes…HURRICANRANA! PATTON FOR THE WIN! ONE! TWO! THREE! WE HAVE A WINNER AND HE’S EEEELLLLLLLLLECCTRRIIIICC!

(SFX: BELL RINGS)

MYLDE: BULLCRAP! I had money on this shit!

(CUEUP: “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC)

SIREN: AAAAAAND THE WINNER OF THE MATCCCCCHHHHH! ‘EEEEEEEEEEELECTRIIIIIIIIIIIIC’ EDDDDDDIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE hmm-PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!

OBERSTARR: Well, he might not have gotten it standing, but the momentum Wanderlust carried forward from that Irish whip had him locked in TIGHT once he went over in the Hurricanrana!

MYLDE: Every dog has his day, Oberstarr. There’s your dog, and BELIEVE ME…he’s gonna get put down next time.

OBERSTARR: Most likely we haven’t heard or seen the last of Wanderlust, but what an impressive athletic display from ‘ELECTRIC’ EDDIE PATTON! These fans loved it, I loved it, and I don’t know about you Jimmy…but I’m ready for some more! Back after this!

(CUTTO: STATIC)

 

[LQJT86C]

xii. Can't we all just get along?

(CUTTO: The ring, where head referee DAVID NOLAN is kicking away random pieces of trash tossed in by fans)

OBERSTARR: Wrestling at the NEXT LEVEL, it’s NLW...the debut! And we’ve still got Impulse plus another surp- …wait a minute. What in the hell…WHO in the hell….?

(The hard camera suddenly pivots to the right, showing the crowd, where a masked man makes his way through the human traffic and to the guard-rail. Terence pulls him back, prompting a quick stare-down and a few words, before the man hops the railing)

MYLDE: What’s the matter pencil neck; cat got your tongue?

OBERSTARR: Are you seeing this? Somebody just hopped the guard rail, some…FAN, or…LOOK it’s not on the itinerary OK?

(The masked man violently motions at SIREN)

VOICE: Yo putana, lemme see that mic? Don’t get stupid, just gimme tha F[BLEEP]KIN’ mic!

(SIREN flips him the mic, and the man climbs into the ring. He’s a latino man of average height, profile hidden by a gray lucha mask with a black moth design on the face. His clothing is basic: black tanktop and tattered blue jeans)

MASKED MAN: (bangs the mic) Is this thing on? Thass’ right it better stay on, puto, ‘cause you ain’t cuttin’ this shit. My name is ARC…ANGEL…(holds up fingers) FOUR. You might know me from that washed up, watered down, gringo produced piece of GARBAGE fed they was pushin’ as Luchador…the FMLL.

(BOOS!)

MYLDE: (mid phone call) Marla? Yeah, it’s me baby. Listen…you didn’t forget to pay the landscaper, did you? Alright, just checking. (hangs up) OK, it’s definitely not him.

ARCANGEL IV: Not that any of you maricons know a thing about that anyways. ‘Cause whatchoo lookin’ at right now is REAL-LUCHA-SH[BLEEP] ESSAY! Whatchoo know about that, puto? You ain’t know NOTHIN’ cause all you been served is the same milk-fed, gringo-American anglo garbage…(BOOS)…that’s been comin’ outta your TV sets for DECADES while tha real hombres breakin’ their necks on tha mid-cards. Nah holmes, they don’t push us, they USE US to entertain you motherF[BLEEP] while they be trottin’ out tha SAME…OLD…WHITE…SH[BLEEP] for tha main event. (BOOS; Arcangel shakes his head) No more. Not (points down)…in THIS company.

But let’s not make this about me. Let’s make it about a man who LOST his future. A CHAMPION; a proud LATINO champion! Whose GOOD NAME got DIRTIED by the white wrestling establishment, holmes. ‘Cause they was SCARED of a brown man with a belt, just like all of you. It was a long ass time ago, but this BROWN MAN was World Champion someplace. And wouldn’t you know, they SHUT DOWN, closed up shop! Except they didn’t close up SH[BLEEP], they just changed tha name on tha doors, and told their champion: MEXICANS NEED NOT APPLY! I’m TALKIN’…about none other…than CARLOS CANYETA!

(The camera pans to the area where ARCANGEL IV had hopped the railing and now CARLOS CANYETA, in a black Ed Hardy T-Shirt, blue jeans, black sneakers hops the railing, He looks like he's in his early 30's, his hair is short and thinning a bit, he takes the mic from Arcangel IV. Terence mugs for the camera until it tracks with Canyeta into the ring)

OBERSTARR: Carlos Canyeta?! Is he serious? We haven’t seen Canyeta since…well, since he was champion of the now-defunct UWA! What the hell is he doing HERE?

MYLDE: What did these guys, run out of 7-11s to loiter in front of?

OBERSTARR: Alright, Canyeta with the mic now...

CANYETA: I bled and suffered for all you people...And for what? To have Troy Windham duck me? To have UWA fail to run a PPV on schedule so my victory over Mike Sparks...MIKE SPARKS...WHO THE F[BLEEP] IS MIKE SPARKS...And they can't even show it on TV...I saw it on Youtube, "Canyeta Vs Sparks part 1" and then "Part 2"...It had 1,500 views...The greatest moment of my career...Headlining the Random Rumble...And all I get for it is a 2 star rating and 'JTPrulez100' with a comment saying 'Canyeta was good, for a wetback'...That's my legacy...So to all of you I say...DROP F[BLEEP]ING DEAD! (BOOS!)

So they reopen the company and they are out on the frontier now or some sh[BLEEP], and who they got carrying their banner, the man who busted his ass night in and night out...And what happens when the doors reopen? I'm told to piss off...They got some guy talking about JFK getting shot, cause the history channel cross over to wrestling is huge, we need that friggin' demographic...We got some piece of sh[BLEEP] flake who could never keep his head in the game for more than 30 minutes...We got a 50 year old man...And then to top it off...We got a FAKE Cuban...That's right, it's cool to be a Latino, IF YOU'RE NOT REALLY ONE...

NLW says they are taking things to the Next Level? No…I'M taking things to the next level! I don't need NLW...NLW needs me! And to get me, they are gonna have to pay...And pay dearly...And until management pays...Everyone on the roster, all the boys in the back...Each and every one of you...Is gonna pay...

(Canyeta drops the mic, security hits the ring, he and Arcangel IV put up their hands, and they walk out of the ring as security follows them. The crowd pops for the two men being thrown out)

OBERSTARR: Fans, I really don't know what to say about that. To make this perfectly clear, Arcangel IV and Carlos Canyeta are NOT under contract to NLW, they had no business being in that ring, and unless they do sign with this company, I doubt we will see them again, and frankly…good riddance!

MYLDE: You ever hear the saying, “the customer always gets his way?” Well in reality, it’s “the customer that throws the biggest fit gets his way!” And that’s what we just saw; I’m not sure these guys are going away any time soon.

OBERSTARR: You might be right about that, but while Canyeta and Arcangel throw their pity party outside this building, we’ve gotta take a break. Back with MAIN EVENT after this!

(FADEOUT)

 

[LQJT86C]

xiii. Rent-an-Asian

(FADEIN: Shoddy looking neon green background with floating blue letters corresponding to the voiceovers)

SFX: GONG!

V/O: IT’S BACK!

ECHO V/O: R-R-R-R-RENT AN ASIAN!

(CUTTO: Asian kid tutoring a white kid in front of a calculator)

V/O: Trouble with math?

ECHO V/O: RENT AN ASIAN!

(CUTTO: Angry Asian whipping scared naked white kid with wet bamboo while a ‘D’ term paper lies on the floor)

V/O: Trouble disciplining your kid?

ECHO V/O: RENT AN ASIAN!

(CUTTO: Little Asian man and tall white man do tai-chi in someone’s backyard)

V/O: Wanna learn karate?

ECHO V/O: RENT AN ASIAN!

(CUTTO: In the bedroom- an Asian woman on her knees, dressed in a robe and straw hat, pleading with a man dressed up like an American soldier)

V/O: Yearning to live out illegal sex fantasies?

ECHO V/O: RENT AN ASIAN!

(CUTTO: Original screen)

V/O: Oooooh yeah it’s back and you KNOW it’s back! U.S. Law 5478 which previously prohibited the Rent-an-Asian service has been REVOKED!

SLO-MO VOICE: REEEEEEEEEE-VOOOOOOOOOKED!

(CUTTO: Asian woman behind the wheel of some dude’s car)

ASIAN WOMAN: HAI! LET’S DRIVE YOU CAR!

(Red ‘X’ appears over screen)

SFX: GAME SHOW BUZZER!

V/O: The Rent-an-Asian service has been putting unemployed Asian-Americans to GOOD USE since 1837..

(CUTTO: Old school reel of Asians working on a rail-road)

V/O: …and we’re BACK-IN-BUSINESS!

(CUTTO: Little kid)

KID: It’s BAAAAAACK!

(CUTTO: Back to the two men practicing Karate)

WHITE DUDE: F[BLEEP] the Cobra Kai!

(CUTTO: Back to the angry Asian whipping the kid with bamboo)

ANGRY ASIAN: YOU BRING HOME ‘A’! NOT ‘D’, NOT ‘B’, NOT ‘A-‘…’A’!!!!

(CUTTO: Back to man and the Asian woman in the bedroom)

MAN: Hey, do you think you could cry? This isn’t fulfilling my ‘Scared Villager’ fantasy.

(CUTTO: Original screen)

V/O: RENT AN ASIAN!

SFX: GONG!

(Number flashes on the screen)

(FADEOUT)

 

[LQJT86C]

xiv. IMPROMPTU MAIN EVENT

(FADEIN: The ring, where a fellow in white board shorts, bare feet, a nice tan, and a hemp necklace has just entered. He’s got long brown hair, and one hell of a Christmas beard. His name: JUST ONE DUDE LOOKING FOR ADVENTURE, YET TOTALLY WILLING TO PARTY ALONG THE WAY; also known as LVW Champion J1D! “Flowing” by 311 plays over the loudspeakers)

OBERSTARR: Here we go fans! And is if the main event wasn’t exciting enough with IMPULSE in it, we’ve upped the ante and booked him to wrestle Las Vegas Wrestling’s very own Champion…J1D!

MYLDE: What, no Clubber the Clown, Mad Maurice, or Bobby Chopsticks?

OBERSTARR: With the performances we’ve been seeing all week, the main event had to go BIG to top it, and wow…talk about your diamonds in the rough. A lot’s been said about Impulse, but do not underestimate The Dude. If Impulse is a master technician, consider JUST ONE DUDE an all-out, aerial invader.

MYLDE: Far be it from me to question a guy who makes his living wrestling at 4am on Las Vegas public access television.

OBERSTARR: Feel free to insult our affiliates some more.

MYLDE: Thank you, I will. Who else we got?

“LEFT! LEFT! LEFT-RIGHT-LEFT!”

(CUEUP: “Revolution Baby ” by Queen V)

(HUGE POP!)

(CUTTO: Entrance way, where after a few seconds IMPULSE emerges from the curtains! The ovation grows as he makes his way to the ring with ROSIE at his side. He’s in long blue tights and black boots, but wearing a red t-shirt over it, covered by a faded black leather jacket. His hands are taped, with ‘JFZ’ written on them)

OBERSTARR: The man who showed at the 11th hour, unexpectedly! Believe me when I tell you, this was not pre-planned; it wasn’t an “angle.” Impulse loves this city, he loves the crowd, and Next Level Wrestling IS New York City!

MYLDE: I’m sorry, we praise people for being townies now? Big deal, the guy’s a hometown hero.

OBERSTARR: …not to mention the NFW Television champion, former CSWA competitor, TEAM semi-finalist…

MYLDE: I heard the feds bought TEAM’s toxic assets.

OBERSTARR: Is that true?

MYLDE: Yeah, they bought the Owner for a cool million.

OBERSTARR: No comment.

(SFX: Bell rings)

SIREN: Wwwwwelcome to ourrrrrr hmm-MAIN EVENT! Introducing first…FRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROM LAS VEGAS NEVAAAAAAADDDAAAAAAA! By way of SSSSSSSAN DIEGO! By way of the HHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAWAIN COAST! By way of MMMMMMMMMOTHER EARTH!

MYLDE: We’ve got a genius in the building!

OBERSTARR: Shhh!

SIREN: He sssssssstands five foot TEN and weighs TWO HUNDRED…TWENTY THREE POUNDS! THE LVW CHAMPPIOOOOOOOOOOON! (Crowd follows along) JAY! ONE! DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

(J1D hops up and pretends to surf the turnbuckle to massive cheers)

SIREN: AND HIS OPPONENT! (POP!) HAILING FROM NEEEEEWWWWWWW YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORK, NEEEEEWWWWWW YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORK! (MORE CHEERS!) HE IS ACCOMPANIED TO THE RING BY RRRRRRROSIE! HE STANDS FIVE-FOOT-EIGHT! HE WEIGHS ONE EIIIIIGHTY EIGHT! NLW IS PROUD TO CALL HIM ONE OF OUR OWN! THEEEEEEEEEEEEE MARATHON MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMPUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLLLLLLSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEE!

(IMPULSE hands his leather jacket to ROSIE, tosses his t-shirt into the crowd)

OBERSTARR: They’re on their feet in anticipation! Two wrestlers…and I mean WRESTLERS! Talk about a competitive main event!

(Right away, J1D pulls a doobie from his ear and offers it to IMPULSE)

MYLDE: Awww what in the name of Jimmy Buffet are they DOING?

OBERSTARR: It looks like J1D wants to share a, well…share a blunt with Impulse before the start of the match!

MYLDE: JUST SAY NO, RANDALL!

(IMPULSE looks at the crowd, laughs to himself before taking the doob. He looks at it, looks back at the crowd- offers it to one segment of the audience; they go nuts! Offers it to another segment; they go nuts! One more; they’re screaming for it! Impulse flicks it the screaming fans, prompting an immediate chant of “IM-PULSE! IM-PULSE!”)

OBERSTARR: Well, you can’t say he’s not a man of the people!

J1D: Whooooaaaaaa! GNARLEY, BRAH! (Yells to audience) Hey, it was MY J!

OBERSTARR: Here we go! Impulse starts off with an immediate armdrag takedown…drop toe hold! J1D rolls out- he has Impulse’s arm! Twists it over! Now Impulse rolls…leg scissor takedown!

MYLDE: These guys are greasy fast!

OBERSTARR: J1D maneuvers out…both men standing…J1D! Hurricanrana! No! Impulse catches him, lifts him up…J1D rolls over the backside into a cover! One count! Impulse rolls back and now he has the legs…Boston crab?! No! J1D pushes him off and his back to his feet!

(SFX: Crowd clapping!)

OBERSTARR: They measure up…no! Impulse immediately drops backwards into a rolling knee bar! J1D’s down and caught! Extremely impressive submission prowess on the part of Impulse! J1D trying to roll out, but there’s nowhere to go- he’s caught!

MYLDE: Charlie don’t surf if his knee’s blown out!

OBERSTARR: Reaching for the ropes, he’s dragging…almost there! He’s got ‘em! Impulse is up quick…RUNNING off the ropes! J1D throws him overhead with a backbody, but he lands on his feet outside the ropes! No! J1D hits the backwards dropkick, and Impulse is sent to the floor!

(J1D runs off the ropes now, executing a flying corkscrew plancha over the ropes and onto Impulse, triggering an ‘OOOOOOH!’ from the crowd)

OBERSTARR: CORKSCREW PLANCHA! Did you see him fly through the air like a HAWK?! Impulse is DOWN! J1D is back up and on the apron- MOONSAULT off the ropes! NO! Impulse evades it, J1D’s down.

MYLDE: I thought pot was supposed to slow you down? You sure he’s not on speed?

OBERSTARR: J1D back into the ring now…Impulse ducks under for the Fireman’s carry…J1D springs up his feet to push him back. Impulse of the ropes- he holds them, J1D misses the dropkick! Impulse turns- second rope moonsault! J1D catches him! No, he powers over back! German suplex with a bridge! ONE! TWO! Two count only!

MYLDE: It’s like watching the damn Cirque Du Soleil!

OBERSTARR: Impulse keeps hold of the waist, J1D now applying the Kimura prompting Impulse to break away. Circling…another hook up. J1D right into a hammerlock, immediately reversed. LOOK OUT! J1D slides backwards underneath Impulse! He’s got him locked for the suplex! No, Impulse reverses! No, J1D reverses! He lifts him up, bringing him to the corner, and drops him right onto the top turnbuckle!

MYLDE: Impulse is in early trouble, call the match off! (laughing)

OBERSTARR: Look out, J1D’s got him in an inverted headlock! FROM THE TOP ROP! INVERTED SUPERPLEX…REMARKABLE! IMPULSE LANDED ON HIS FEET! He stumbled back a bit! Runs forward- front dropkick sends J1D into the corner!

MYLDE: He’s got quite an arsenal for a kid who’s only a hundred and eighty whatever pounds soaking wet.

OBERSTARR: Impulse up and charging- J1D leaps over the ropes and belts Impulse with a quick elbow! J1D pulls himself up and off the ropes- flying bulldog! Quick cover! ONE! TWO! Impulse is free! J1D running off the ropes…missed clothesline! From the other end now, cross body! Impulse caught him, AND SENDS HIM FLYING OVER HEAD!

(CROWD CHEERS!)

(J1D gets up and catches a chair thrown into the ring by a member of the audience. Right away, IMPULSE comes running and dropkicks the chair out of his hand and to the outside)

MYLDE: Bye bye weapons!

OBERSTARR: Impulse, clearly not a fan of foreign objects despite our loose definition to the contrary.

(Fans give a sarcastic boo; IMPULSE smiles and shrugs)

MYLDE: So does this mean no barb-wire and firecrackers?

OBERSTARR: This ain’t Japan, Jimmy. At least night tonight! Impulse misses the spinning heel kick; J1D has him by the feet! Cloverleaf! Can he? No, Impulse pushes kicks him off! Impulse quickly off the second turnbuckle- MISSILE DROPKICK! Back up the ropes! FLYING LEG DROP! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT!

MYLDE: Impulse getting less technical and more aerial; possibly adapting to the quicker pace of J1D.

OBERSTARR: He seems to be adapting on the fly. Impulse going for the piledriver…has him up…J1D springs himself WAY UP and back to his feet! FACE BUSTER!

MYLDE: There’s the momentum change he was looking for. Now put this idiot away, we’re running past an hour!

OBERSTARR: We’ll continue as long as we need! J1D sends Impulse with an Irish whip…FLYING KNEE! Impulse, down again! J1D launches from the second rope, turns with a springboard double leg drop! ONE! TWO! NOT QUITE!

(Mild chant of “TER-ENCE! TER-ENCE!” can be heard from the front row. Terence can be seen leaning of the guard rail cursing for weapons and moves named after Megadeth)

OBERSTARR: J1D, bringing Impulse back to his feet…kick to the gut! J1D catches it! Ducks the sacrifice kick…NO! GETS HIT WITH A MULE KICK FROM BEHIND! (CHEERS!) Impulse back to his feet!

MYLDE: On a side note, haven’t either of these twigs of anabolic steroids? They work wonders, so I’ve heard.

OBERSTARR: Don’t listen to him, kids. Snap suplex from Impulse, and now he’s going upstairs! THE FANS ARE ON THEIR FEET! HERE WE GO! FROG SPLASH! HE MAY HAVE HIM! ONE! TWO AND…NO!

MYLDE: Vegas doesn’t like their champ’s odds right now. He’s taking a beating in there!

OBERSTARR: Impulse sends J1D off the turnbuckles…SUDDEN IMPACT! MISSED! J1D…BOOT TO THE STOMACH! HE’S GOT THE DOUBLE-UNDERHOOKS! CHILL PILL? NO! IMPULSE TWISTS OUT, PUSHES HIM AWAY! FOREARM! HE BACKS UP- SUDDEN IMPACT! MISSED AGAIN! J1D HITS HIM WITH A SPRINGBOARD BACK ELBOW OFF THE ROPES!

MYLDE: These guys can’t hit their finishers for shit!

OBERSTARR: The Dude has Impulse by the legs, like a wheelbarrow. STUN-GUN! BUT IMPULSE GRABS A HOLD OF THE ROPES! J1D CHARGES…IMPULSE PULLS THEM DOWN AND THERE GOES J1D TO THE OUTSIDE!

(CHEERS!)

OBERSTARR: Impulse steps through the ropes! Pulls up…ASAI MOONSAULT! PERFECTLY EXECUTED! Both men took damage there, but Impulse wills himself up and back into the ring!

(IMPULSE bends over looking over at J1D, waiting for him to follow)

MYLDE: If I were J1D, I’d call it a night. Leave through the crowd, recover your lost joint, skateboard home, hit the beanbag…and call it a night!

OBERSTARR: Finally he’s up, and he slides back into the ring. Impulse, CRUISING off the ropes! J1D ready to counter, but Impulse stops short- HELL-O! SUDDEN IMPACT! HE GOT HIM! (Crowd counts along) ONE! TWO! IT’S OVER!

(POP!)

(SFX: Bell rings)

SIREN: AAAAAAAND YOUR WINNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRR! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMPUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLSEEEE-AHHHH!

(CUEUP: “Revolution Baby” by Queen V)

OBERSTARR: HE DOES IT! On his first night in NLW, not even scheduled to perform, IMPULSE puts away the LVW Champion!

MYLDE: Oh God, will somebody shut these clowns up? I can’t believe I signed up for this- its past my bed time you MANIACS!

(Right away, IMPULSE finds a still wobbly J1D and extends a hand to him. They shake hands to a big reaction to the crowd. Impulse walks up one of the turnbuckles to throw up an arm in appreciation of the crowd)

OBERSTARR: That’s what it’s about, right there Jimmy!

MYLDE: What, being a pussy? Calm down, it’s past One; I can say pussy.

OBERSTARR: No Jimmy…no you can’t. For Next Level Wrestling, I’m Brian Oberstarr! They’re kicking us out of the building!

(FADE TO BLACK)

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