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MAIN EVENT: World Heavyweight Championship - Hart v Daymon (c)


Jan 1, 2000
San Francisco, CA
All RP for the New ERA World Heavyweight championship match between SHAWN HART and ROCKO DAYMON (c) at RAUCOUS should be done in this folder. Any RP posted outside of the folder will not count.

The RP deadline is 11:59pm PST on SUNDAY, June 28th, 2009. Angles should be sent to wfwnewrestling@gmail.com ..
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Jan 1, 2000
Crossing the Bridge

(Fade in from black, to the sound of a trilling Fender Stratocaster immersed in reverb. The opening notes to the classic "Bridge of Sighs" by rock and roll legend Robin Trower hauntingly play over the soundtrack as the view adjusts. The camera is inside a darkened gym, idly panning by a full-sized wrestling ring and numerous weight-lifting devices, all cast in shadow.)

(It's attention is drawn to the annex serving as the entrance. Just across from the sign-in desk, hanging on the wall, is an expensive oaken trophy case.)

(The front door swings open, casting a rectangle of daylight and a man's silhouette on the ground right in front of the camera. He takes two steps forward, allowing the door to close behind him, and without hesitation slowly approaches the large display hanging nearby on the wall.)

(The dark figure reaches over to the side and flips an unseen switch. A single row of flourescent lights inside the trophy case winks on, revealing the contents to be instead of trophies, a collection of wrestling belts from a variety of federations. In the glass seperating the various titles from the outside world, we can see the brooding reflection of "THE UNDYING" ROCKO DAYMON. The song's lyrics now begin.)

"The sun don't shine
"The moon don't move the tides,
"To wash me clean"

(Cut to a tight shot of the keyhole in the corner of the glass. He slips in a simple brass key, turns it, and slides the pane over on its track. The camera cuts again over his shoulder to see where his gaze is focused... on the NEW World Heavyweight Title, displayed high but mostly neglected off in its own corner of the display case.)

"Sun don't shine
"The moon don't move the tides,
"To wash me clean"

(Weathered hands bearing scarred knuckles reach in and remove the belt from its post. The title's outline can be seen in the dust on the oak panelling serving as the back wall. He turns and carries it, holding the gold-side away from the view of the camera, toward the ring cast in shadow in the middle of the darkened gym. Resting there on the apron is a briefcase; he opens it and sets the title inside, mimicking the act three years ago when he first opened this same briefcase and pulled out the same title.)

"Why so unforgiving?
"And why so cold?
"Been a long time crossing Bridge of Sighs"

(Wordlessly, he turns from the ring and takes the briefcase with him back to the door. We see a rectangle of light with his shadow cast in it on the floor once more, then it disappears as the door slames behind him. Black.)

(The music fades out as the video fades in again, this time in SEA-TAC INTERNATION AIRPORT, midday. Outside the wall of the windows is a breathtaking view of the tarmac and the steel behemoths lining up in lumbering grace. Seated on the bench is "THE UNDYING" ROCKO DAYMON. In the seat next to him is his only piece of carry-on luggage - the briefcase with his World Title still locked inside. His attention is right on the camera.)

Rocko Daymon
When I came to New ERA of Wrestling, some four years ago... there was only one goal on my mind:

To prove I was the BEST.

(He taps the briefcase sitting next to him.)

Rocko Daymon
I suppose this would be all the proof I ever needed.

And yet... over these past three years, every time I think of my accomplishments in New ERA... I'm left feeling just a tad...


(Beneath his solid black aviators, his face contorts slightly into a grimace.)

Rocko Daymon
If it were still three years ago, I might be sitting here with that belt on my lap, letting it serve as a constant reminder to all of you watching of what I've done here. But the Rocko Daymon you all knew and hated three years ago... doesn't sit here today, waiting for his flight to Little Rock to defend here said title.

A lot happens over the course of three years. And over that time, one gets the opportunity to... gain a perspective on things.

The Rocko Daymon you see before you today knows that regardless of what now sits next to him, I never fulfilled that one goal on my mind when I took my first step into New ERA.

I didn't even come close.

(The grimace disappears into another kind of expression. The one that doesn't quite have a name.)

Rocko Daymon
So a month ago, when I received the word that I was going defend this title for the first time in three years... I was given my first chance in that long to deal with unfinished business...

To silence those that have always doubted me... for good this time...

To do something about that fucking asterik - sticking out like a damned herpes sore - right next to "NEW World Heavyweight Champion" on my resume.

(A tone sounds over the airports PA. A female voice follows it.)

Flight 77 to Little Rock, now boarding.

(He comes to his feet as a flock of passengers corral toward the exit gate. He picks up the briefcase and turns to the camera a final time.)

Rocko Daymon
At RAUCOUS... I'm going to do something that will no doubt piss many of you off... but in time, you'll come to understand just why I did it.

As for Shawn Hart... just show up, and do your job. Because regardless of what you, Larry Tact, Jonathan Marx, Mr. Entertainment, or anybody else thinks of me, I'm going to fight you like a champion...

...even if I don't feel like one.

("THE UNDYING" ROCKO DAYMON turns away and walks toward the gate, flashing his ticket casually to the attendant on duty, before stepping through and boarding the plane. The psychedelic closing to "Bridge of Sighs" fades in over the soundtrack as the picture goes to black.)


The Phenom
Jan 1, 2000
Salt Lake City, UT
Mr. WFW:NE Speaks!!


Le Chateau du PHENOM in Orlando, Florida - 5 P.M.

The room is dark, save for two spotlights that illuminate its center from above.

There, amidst the light, stands SHAWN JESSICA HART, PhD.; one of his size 14 feet resting on a large, three-dimensional representation of the NEW logo, and the other covering a similar WFW logo, literally placing him atop both promotions. With the LoC championship belt strapped tightly around his waist, pink streaks in his blonde hair, and a look of fiery determination strapped across his face, SJH stares into the camera and speaks.

SJH: "World's Finest Wrestling... and the New Era! Together as ONE like some kind of bastardized Voltron of grappling GOODNESS!!"

He shakes his head, as if in disbelief.

SJH: "And with this dual resurrection comes renewed opportunity, NOT ONLY to strap another 10 pounds of gold around this sinuous waist..."

The Phenom taps his Legacy title belt.

SJH: "...but to BLAST to the PAST and clear an oooooooooooold skeleton out of my wrestling closet. A skeleton who answers to the name ROCKO!"

Hart smirks.

SJH: "Sure, it's not the kind of thing that ANY of us like to own up to, but the steak n' eggs of the situation is that each and EVERY one of us in this crazy fraternity of bumps n' bodyslams has a monkey or two on our back. And despite my unparalleled FRESHNESS, there's no gettin' around it - the Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinister has had his fair share..."

He looks pensively to the ceiling.

SJH: "First there was Jean Rabesque, then there was Suicide, followed in short order by Copycat, Michael Manson, Doc Silver, and a whole host of others. Heh, try as I might in my matches against these jokers, FOR YEARS, that big W always seemed just a smidge out of my reach."

For a split second, Shawn's foot gets slightly stuck in New Era's W and he nearly loses his balance. After a mini-rendition of the Watusi, he quickly recovers his footing and trudges forward with his solilique.

SJH: "Mr. Daymon, despite your DOUCHIE WAYS, I'm gonna call a spade a spade and cop to the fact, right here... right now, that YOU SIR... have aaaaaaalways been one of those guys! But ya know what? History is for text books, my friend, and JUST LIKE I was FINALLY able to overcome the odds and BEAT the Manson's, the Silver's, the Cat's and just about every other JACKHOLE who's faced me in a wrestling ring -- I'm gonna BEAT YOU!!!

Call it an outrage, call it a MOCKERY, call it whatever the hell you like. The Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinister - spread ya girly's legs, and then I FINISH 'ER... calls it the TRUTH!! And the truth of the matter here is that your time is OVER. Sure, you've returned to the business with much fanfare and main event pushes, but in the end... it all amounts to NOTHING if you're not up to the task. And despite the hoopla, REGARDLESS of the hype, in Rocko's Modern Life, FAILURE is the order of the day!"

He cackles sadistically to himself.

SJH: "Don't get me wrong, Rock... you're a reasonably young guy with LOTS of time left to right the ship........ but on my watch, it AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN! You know it, I know it, and aaaaaaaaaaaaall the Hart-broken Phenom fiends out there know it. You try to go over, you're gonna go UNDER! PERIOD! And that's all she wrote, Mac. But HEY, don't you worry your pretty little head... after I've MARCHED into that squared circle, then STORMED back out with the NEW Heavyweight title in tow, if you're still in one piece, you'll be the FIRST guy to get a shot at MY gold.

What can I say?

One good turn deserves another!"

SJH grins wryly.

SJH: "Nobody dominated World's Finest Wrestling AND the New Era quite like I did. And with their rebirth, comes my chance for redemption! Heh, DOWN goes Daymon, DOWN goes the rest of the field... and when all's said and done, DOWN goes yours truly as the GREATEST man EVER to grace a WFW:NE ring!


The PHENOM..... has left the building!!!"

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Jan 1, 2000
A Road to Redemption

(CUE UP: The droning intro to "Busse Woods" by Acid King. It's been a couple hours since the plane departing from Sea-Tac International landed in Little Rock National. Baggage was claimed. A cab was hailed. A name was checked in at the hotel. With that business dealt with, the camera finds "THE UNDYING" ROCKO DAYMON in the locker room of the ALLTEL Arena. It's one day before the big event marking the return of two prestigious federations. At present, he sits alone on a bench between two rows of lockers, eyes looking down at his gloved fists.)

Rocko Daymon
The rock of this business is made by the beautiful marriage of two completely different worlds: "sports" and "entertainment." Complete opposites, and yet both equally essential to the survival of the professional wrestling industry. Three years ago, I might've thought differently, but... that was then, this is now.

I realize now that if there was no entertainment involved, we wouldn't have an audience. Nobody would come to watch us. On the other hand, if there were no sport... you might as well call it a sideshow attraction. Nothing but a drawn-out circus set-up with the intent to sell popcorn.

One can't exist without the other.

(He looks directly into the camera and gestures to an invisible yet specific someone likely watching in the comfort of his hotel room.)

Rocko Daymon
You, Shawn Hart... you represent everything that is entertaining about this industry.

(He lowers his hand, but not his stare.)

Rocko Daymon
As for me... I represent the sport.

(An expression appears on his face. It's the closest thing he can manage toward a sardonic smirk.)

Rocko Daymon
You couldn't find a better pair of complete polar opposites to be standing face to face in the ring than the two of us.

And to be perfectly honest, three years ago, I would have simply written you off as a circus clown before even considering tipping my hat to you, Shawn. But that was years ago, and like I've said, I've had time to reflect...

(The smile wipes away from his face.)

Rocko Daymon
Today... I'm thinking about you in another sense. I'm thinking about the impact you've put on this industry, and realizing it would be a very different place if you hadn't been there to entertain those fans with your wit and your talent.

At the end of our days, I'm sure "The Phenom" Shawn Hart will boast a legion of loyal, die-hard fans, and likely go down in the history books as one of the greatest professional wrestling legends to ever grace the ring. His peers will talk about him as if he were nothing short of professional wrestling's own bodhisattva.

(His eyes again lower to his gloved fists, clenched just over his lap...)

Rocko Daymon
I know in my heart that the same will never be said about yours truly, Rocko Daymon... but I think I can live with that. I never once said I came to this industry for fame or fortune. All that's ever concerned me is my own personal satisfaction, which means winning under any circumstances necessary. The federation can spit on me if they so choose... but I'll die happy knowing I stayed true to the sport and the competition.

(...and moments later, looks back into the camera again.)

Rocko Daymon
But then, maybe that's why I've always been that monkey on your back you could never shake off, Shawn. Maybe it's because while you've dedicated your illustrious career to bringing the fans back to see you and being the, uh, "Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinister", I've dedicated just as much time and effort at the task of making myself the very best damn competitor to ever set foot in the ring.

You've always been concerned about who the world would be talking about long after the three-count was made and the bell rang... and I've always been concerned about whose arm was raised. In all of our encounters, it's always come down to that... which is why every time you and I dance the good dance, you walk out with the hype, and I walk away with the victory.

(He reaches down around his feet, below the view of the camera, and pulls up the briefcase holding the NEW World Heavyweight Title. One of them, anyway.)

Rocko Daymon
Coincidentally, it's also why I'm walking into RAUCOUS as the World Heavyweight Title of a federation that hates my guts, and you're walking in as a challenger.

And at RAUCOUS, it will come down to that once again, when two completely different men from two completely different worlds step into the ring, one more time. You seem to think you're determined to beat me this time around, but you have yet to convince me that anything will be any different this time off, Shawn. It might be a new fresh start for two federations becoming one, but as far as I can tell, you're the same Shawn Hart you've always been, while I'm a much different man from how many might remember me...

Even so, I've got a little convincing to do of my own. You see, I've got a monkey of my own to shake off...

(As he says this, he pats the briefcase now sitting on the bench beside him. Strangely, he makes no attempt to open it and show it to the people watching at home. Three years ago, we would have likely witnessed him in front of a New ERA of Wrestling backdrop with the belt proudly held over his shoulder, a pompous smirk on his face, with Caitlyn standing right behind him. Today, he doesn't hold the title, nor does he wear the smirk, nor does he appear with his then wife.)

Rocko Daymon
This federation recognizes me on paper as a one-half champion... as if that were anything to be proud of to begin with... but when I think back to the events that took place three years ago, and how I "won" this belt, and subsequently "retained" it... I'm left feeling a bit empty.

I don't feel like a champion, Shawn, and I sure as hell don't feel like I deserve to carry this title.

(He takes in a deep breath and lets it out, his gaze leaving the camera for a moment.)

Rocko Daymon
Those three years of reflection have led me to realize how far I had let my ego get away from me, and just how much of a coward I truly was.

Certainly you've heard Larry Tact say his piece on me earlier this week. I haven't said anything back yet... and mostly that's because I feel taht everything he said... was exactly right... even if he was only thinking of me three years in the past.

He's got room to talk. He proved himself as New ERA's One and TRUE World Heavyweight Champ at Banned in the U.S.

(His eyes lock directly into the camera.)

Rocko Daymon
I didn't.

(His mouth curls into a sneer.)

Rocko Daymon
And that's the realization that's sat with me for the better part of those three years between then and now, festering like a cancer on my mind and my reputation. Since that night, I've lived in silence on the events of New ERA of Wrestling... because I knew deep down in my heart that even though I stepped off that damned boat with this belt, I didn't win the match the way I wanted to.

Every time I look at this belt, I'm reminded that I'm living a lie. I never fully earned this title the way Larry Tact did...

I'm not New ERA's World Champion... and I really don't think I ever was. I look at the time I've spent in both NEW and WFW as nothing but a blight on my career...

(The sneer disappears. The smirk returns, now confident instead of mocking.)

Rocko Daymon
But that doesn't mean I can't do something about it.

I've returned as a "champion" in this merging of two federations into one... no wife, no ego... only the undying intent to make up for my past failures.

That's where you come in, Shawn... one of the most entertaining talents to ever grace the ring. You're the first true test standing in the way of my progress.

(He rises to his feet, taking the briefcase in his hand, and looks to the camera a final time.)

Rocko Daymon
You can have my word... this time around, I won't to have anybody at ringside to step in and give me a hand when I don't need it. I have no intent to throw you out of the ring after I've finished you off and pick up the count-out victory, just to flaunt my ego. Those disgraceful days are behind me now...

Simply put, I'm going to take everything you can possibly dish out, give it back to you with interest, pin your shoulders to the mat for the three count, and walk out with a convincing win over a legitimate challenger.

The first big victory in a long line that will surely follow as I walk the road to redemption.

(Concealed title in one hand, "THE UNDYING" ROCKO DAYMON turns from the camera and walks out of the locker room. The blasting finale to "Busse Woods" fades in as we go to black.)


The Phenom
Jan 1, 2000
Salt Lake City, UT
That's My Shawn!



A private room at Club Déjà Vu - 2:04 A.M.

CUE UP: "That's the Joint" by the Sugarhill Gang and Funky 4+1

Chilling around a large, circular table, upon which a buxom blonde dancer writhes and undulates, are the LoC champion, SHAWN JESSICA HART, PhD, his sister FELICA, and a whole host of odd characters, all of which are seemingly transfixed upon the woman's curves.

CLOSE ON: The Phenom as he looks into the camera and raises his glass with a smile.

SJH: "Heyoooooooooooo!! And WELCOME to a RAUCOUS edition of the latest and GREATEST sensation never to hit network airwaves..."

CUT TO: The stripper, who flings her raven hair back, bites her lower lip, and moans into the camera.

DANCER: "That's... Myyyyyyyy.... Ssshhaaaaaaaawn..."

CUT TO: SJH, who raises his glass once more.

SJH: "HEYOOOOOOOOOO!! I'm your host, the Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinister, and the topic of today's discussion: ROCKO DAYMON! SJH! THE NEW HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE... and just which one of these fiiiiiiiiiiiine individuals are gonna walk out with it! Joining me in today's chat, perhaps the FINEST panel of expert analysts EVER assembled, my sister, Felicia Hart..."

CUT TO: A somewhat wobbly Felicia, who can only manage to raise her glass a half-inch or so off of the table.

FELICIA: "H-heya baby.... You lllllike 'deez?"

With the aforementioned glass still in her hand and STILL half-filled with a dry martini, she attempts to fondle her own breasts. CUT TO: Hart, who's dishing out his best courtesy laugh.

SJH: "Heh.... heh......... O-K! Joining her on today's panel, one of my closest personal friends and an EXPERT in the art of hand-to-hand combat.... CHEWIE!!! Hah, say hello nnnnnndaddio!!"

CUT TO: Hart's only Wookie friend, CHEWBACCA, who raises his pitcher of Tetley's.


Canned laughter. CUT TO: Shawn - shaking his head with a smirk on his face.

SJH: "You DOG!! Ha-haaaa!!"

CHEWIE: "Rrrbbbrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggrrrrrrr errrrrrrrrr..."

SJH: "And finally, my spiritual advisor and personal liaison to the other side. An artist, an entrepreneur, and a modern philosopher in his own right - some call him Big Baby Jesus, others... Dirt McGirt. Me? I call him the ghost of OL'...... DIRTY.... BAS-TAAAAAAAAAAARD!!"

CUT TO: ODB (not) in the flesh, appearing before us in an ethereal haze a la Obi-Won at the end of Jedi.

ODB: "Introducin' - YO, F(FCC)CK that nigga's name; my hip-hop drops on your head like RAIN!"

The camera pans back to Hart, who is still doing his best Ed McMahon impression.

SJH: "Yeeeeeeeeah buddy!! Not even DEATH can kill your flow!"

With an expression like stone, Ol' Dirty no-sells Shawn's line, instead electing to launch a query at the Phenom.

ODB: "Yo, am I gettin' paid for this?"

Felicia interjects.

FELICIA: "Heeey, Dir-TAY! Baby I got'cha money, don't you worrrrrrrry..."

ODB: "Keep it nappy or braided up. Dirty in the cockpit, blazin' up."

The female Hart swoons.

ODB: "Mmm. You're so SEXY!! I just wanna-"

Felicia attempts to wrap her arms around the spirit, who just so happens to be seated next to her, only to fall THROUGH him and land drunkenly on the floor with a THUD. In the meantime, we cut back to SJH.

OH, and just in case you were wondering, the stripper is still doing her thing. Cheers.

SJH: "Now, to get things started, let me just say that I'm thrilled and honored and THRILLED to be receiving a shot at the title in the place where perhaps my BEST years were spent, WFW: New Era!! NOBODY had a tenure of sweet success and singular SEXCELLENCE in both World's Finest... aaaaaaaand NEW quite like I did, INCLUDING my esteemed opponent... just check WFW:NE's most recent home video release, LIVE, LOVE, LARIAT --- available for all you HART-broken Phenom Fiends on my personal web site, Shawn Hart com dot slash org com dot net HTP, for only $19.99 and you TOO can relive all the great moments!!

SJH pauses for a beat to catch his breath.

SJH: "Chewbacca - your thoughts?!"

CUT TO: Chewie, who is now salivating over the girl on the table. (See, I totally didn't forget her.)


Felicia giggles in the background. The camera pans over to her as she finally finds her way back to her seat.

FELICIA: "That is..... SOOOOOOO true, Chewie!!

CUT TO: Hart, nodding intently.

SJH: "That's real talk. Straight up. And it really makes one wonder - despite his self-professed evolution and REGARDLESS of his claims that in the wake of his personal growth, I've remained the same Silly Willy I've been since day one - what EXACTLY will unfold when the two of us go toe to toe. Mr. Jones?"

He looks to Ol' Dirty's ghost for an answer. CUT TO: The man himself as he offers his appraisal of the situation.

ODB: "First things first, man. He's f(FCC)ckin' with the worst. You be stickin' pins in his head like a f(FCC)ckin' nurse!"

Felicia seconds this opinion as she sways from side to side, spilling yet another martini to and fro as she does so.

FELICIA: "Y-yeeeeeeeaaahh!! *burp* Kick his assss, sea baaasssssss!!"

The shot cuts back to Hart, who looks directly into the camera and gives the thumbs up.

SJH: "I'll do so, sis!! But his won't be a defeat that will leave him maimed and even MORE useless to a woman than he already is. NOSSIR!! When we're in there, in that war zone, I'm gonna kick his filibustering ass LOVINGLY. Cuz in case you haven't noticed, our veiled verbal barbs at one another aside, that LOVE seems to be flowing freely between us like it never has before! I mean, I acknowledged that he's basically owned my ass for the last decade, and he was quick to cop to the fact that my name will probably be whispered by the lips of endless generations. So regardless of our differences, ours is a war built on a foundation of mutual respect. Right Chewie?"

CUT TO: Chewbacca - dry-humping a cardboard cut-out of Rocko.

CHEWIE: "Errbrrbrrbrrrrrrr.... ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!"

SJH is HORRIFIED!!! But not really.

SJH: "Oh! Oh no!! That's just-"

Chewbacca repositions Daymon's cardboard likeness so that its head is lined up with his groin.

SJH: "Oh.... GOD!! Chewie!! Don't do it! That's totally wro-"

Chewbacca begins thrusting his pelvis into Rocko's face.

SJH: "Ohp, there it is. Right in the mouth...."

Hump. Hump. Hump. Hump.

SJH: "Yyyyyyyyep! Screwed in this match AND screwed by Chewbacca..."


SJH: "Good grief. What say you, Big Baby?"

CUT TO: ODB's chair, which lies empty. CUT TO: Felicia's spot, where the younger Hart is passed out, face down on the table. Meanwhile, ODB has taken up behind her and is following Chewie's lead by ecto-humping Felicia!

SJH: "You BASTARD!! You can't do that to my sister!!"

ODB: "Let me take a ride - get up in that poop and slide!"

The Phenom is NOT impressed.

SJH: "Oh Dirty. That's just foul. There'll be no getting up in that poop and sliding on my show! We're here to talk about Rocko Daymon's impending doom, my ascension back to the TOP SPOT in the industry, and the utter futility with which the rest of the wrestling world is faced in denying me my moment in the sun! So can the two of you halt the humping and get back on-"

Suddenly, Ray Stanz and Egon Spengler burst onto the scene, proton packs fully-powered and neutrona wands a blazin'!

RAY: EGON! I've got him!!"

Ray's stream ensnares ODB's ghost, followed in short order by Egon's.

EGON: "I'm on it, Ray! Throw the trap!"

Ray releases his stream, yanks a trap from off of his pack and tosses it under ODB. Ray then slams his foot on the switch, the trap's doors fly open, and DOWN goes the ghost, ecto-humping the whole way down. Upon reaching the trap, its doors slam shut over the undead rapper and the trap's red light begins to blink. In the background, Hart is utterly dumbfounded.

RAY: "One in the box!"

EGON: "Ready to go!"

RAY: "We be fast..."


SJH storms up to the Ghostbusters.

SJH: "What in the BLUE HELL are you guys doing?! Can't you see I'm filming a talk show here!"

Ray steps to the Phenom.

RAY: "We're sorry, Mr. Hart... but with a Class Four Full-Torsoed Specter on the scene, we had no choice but to engage the slimy little thing. Now, if we can talk about the bill for the capturing and containment of the spook..."

SJH: "Wha-whaaaaa?!"

Suddenly, a pale flash shoots across the group and Egon interjects.

EGON: "RAY, look!! It's the ghost of Rocko Daymon's career!!!"

Ray grits his teeth excitedly.


As quickly as they arrived, the Ghostbusters were gone in a flash, chasing their ghost out of the room. CLOSE ON: SJH, who surveys what remains of his panel: Felicia is sleeping in a puddle of her own drool and Chewie has found his way to the top of the table where he dances suggestively with the buxom blonde. Hart shakes his head at the whole situation, then looks into the camera.

SJH: "Why is it that ANY TIME you bring Rocko Daymon into the situation, everything goes to Hell?"

The Prime Minister of Gettin' Sinister chuckles to himself.

SJH: "Heh.... OK Daymon. So I'll admit that my presentation here is a bit over the top, but SO WHAT!! None of it changes the fact that I'm about to drop your ramblin' ass like you perpetually DROP THE BALL!!

I mean, I LOVE YA, Rock... REALLY! But come Raucous, your reign of terror comes to an END!! Call it a mockery, call it an outrage, call it whatever the hell ya like. Shawn Hart calls it the TRUTH!

And when we're in that ring, the truth is gonna HURT!!

Hart laughs at himself once again.

Like a Wookie cock to the FACE...


SJH: "The Phenom has left the building!!!"

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