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Hellmachine - What are we, Chopped Liver?

Calamity Jon

League Member
Jan 1, 2000
(FADEIN to the wood-panelled private room at the exclusive gym where "DOC" MARTENA MARTENS, in black sweats hanging at her hips and flame-detailed sports bra, is putting her NFW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS through their paces. Team frontman CALAMITY and his monstrous sidekick "BIG IN JAPAN" SEAN TOOMBS are working a series of prepared moves in the ring, Calamity flying off the ropes and rolling over Toombs' crouched back, Calamity shooting back and being caught in a sidewalk-slam grip, which he turns into a headscissor takedown, which Toombs turns into an swerving airplane spin by the calves, which Calamity twists out of and turns to a sitting faceplant.)

Toombs: "F***!" (rubbing his nose)

Calamity: "POW! That's how I crack walnuts, too! And by walnuts, I mean your mom."

Toombs: "F***."

Doc: (laughing behind one diminutive hand pressed to her lips) "Alright my sweet little devils, let's take a short recess. Sean, come here, let's check you out. Calamity, take care of that pesky cameraman, would you?"

Calamity: "WOULD I?!" (he rushes under the ropes and charges towards the camera, the shot suddenly shaking and jerking as the cameraman backs up hastily, and tumbles to the ground.)

Doc: "No, darling impetuous one, could you address him, please? We're a little overdue for some facetime with the NFW community."

Calamity: "WOULD I?!" (Helping the camerman up, brushing him off) "You back on your feet, chump? Nice suit. Ready?" (The camera bounces as the cameraman nods) "Listen, that's good, cause I need your help here. I need you to transmit a message ... to the whole planet, Houston."

Cameraman: "(mumbles something)"

Calamity: "You're a philistine, Chuck. Let me make this brief, because I want to get back to finding new ways to bash my buddy Big Lebowski's nose against the ground. I have a question of a butchery nature - namely, what ARE we, chopped liver? And more importantly, what do you people want out of these freaking belts?"

Cameraman: "(mumbles something)"

Calamity: "Rhetorical question, Chuck. But listen, back to the point, here's me and the Big Lebowski in that ring, whupping ass, taking names, and landing nose-first on the canvas, BAM! And where are our opponents? Where are the five other badass teams who're seeking to usneat the undisputed masters of NF'nW Tag Belt Fu, WHOOO-AHHH!! Where are the Showstoppers, who complain that they (in a sing-song, mocking voice) nevoo got a weee-match, ooooh? Where are the midget-proclaimed TRUE TAG TEAM CHAMPS, the OSS? Where's the most fearsome man in the business and his dress-wearing psycho pal, where's our living ambush-magnets in the bondage masks, and most importantly ... where'd the NFW Superboys go? You've seen 'em, I'm sure, pair of roided-out gutterfreaks with prison tattoos eight inches inside their colons and the NFW's own "official push from the top" stamp on both of their furrowed, sloping foreheads?"

Calamity: "I'll tell you where they are - they've backed off. Because NOW they've got their chance, NOW the big chance to FINALLY BE THE MEN who TAKE THE TITLES from the men who OWN AND OPERATE the NFW Tag Team division practically since INCEPTION has come around, and now that they GOT that opportunity - they're backing off. Never mind trying to survive, for ****'s sake, try even participating you sacless wonders."

Calamity: "In the meantime, if the impenetrable wall of acknowledging their inferiority wasn't up, the House Show properties have clammed up and sucked it down. Diamond Kid, Kid, Kid ... you really think, given the choice, we would've picked putting our little gold trinkets up against a Mego figure and his imaginary friend over The Connection? No, but we decided to be big men, and give you the shot, since you asked for it first. And what've you done since then? Nada. We're still not even sure you've got a tag team partner."

Calamity: "I mean, the Connection, they have an excuse - they're ALWAYS disappearing for no reason. And likewise, coming back for no reason, since - let's face it - the bad boys of 1998 gimmick isn't really over any more. MEMO FROM THE FUTURE - The Russian Heel gimmick is still slightly more lively than a warmed over D-Genera-"

Doc: "Time's up, angel. I hope you said everything you need to say."

Calamity: "I may've missed a few points, but I can summarize briefly. So for the sake of Storm, for Scott and Roger, for the 'Stoppers and their counterparts from a hairier, stupider universe, for Doc and his Junior Goon Squad, and especially for our House Show playmates - you can't BEAT Hellmachine, you just TRY TO SURVIVE - SOMEHOW, and now let us pray (Calamity cuts a vicious Double Dukestacy, then turns and walks to the ring, where Big In Japan is stretching against the ropes, waiting ...)


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