[‘Did my Time’ by Korn blares over the PA system as Stalker comes from behind the curtains staring at the cage and smiling.]
TF: This match is a KING OF THE CAGE MATCH……. FIRST… from Seattle, Washington, HERE IS… STTAAAAAALLLKEEEEEERRRR!!!
[Stalker goes through the cage door making the refs part a way for him out of fear.]
TF: And his opponent….. From THE MEAN STREETS….. NONE OTHER THEN… ICE TRE!!!!!!!!!!
[“Bad as Can” by Beetlejuice hit’s the PA and Ice Tre walks out through the curtains with nothing but a wife beater and baggy jeans on. He slaps the hands of some fans as he makes his way down to the ring.]
DT: Ice Tre is headed down to the cage now and Stalker is staring him down.
MN: Man I wouldn’t go into that cage even if I was given a million dollars to do it.
DM: Mike you wouldn’t go into a cage with any wrestler, money or not.
MN: That’s true.
DT: Looks like Tre is showing off for the crowd now…
DM: Yeah and Stalker is staring him down from inside the cage. Tre is standing on the steps towards the cage door showing his crown to the fans.
MN: Ice Tre better be careful that pyscho path looks like he is getting angry at him.
DT: OH MY! Stalker just jumped through the cage door and tackled Ice Tre to the ground on the outside. This match hasn’t even started yet and they are already fighting it out!
DM: Yeah and Stalker looks simply furious as he picks up Tre and slams his face right into the guardrail! Again and AGAIN! He’s yelling into Tre’s ear welcome to my world.
MN: If his world really existed life would totally suck.
DT: Tre is really in a bad spot here.. He wasn’t expecting to be jumped like that and being caught off guard against this guy is really bad for you.
DM: Stalker looks to be showing him why right now. Hooking Tre now he sets him up outside, lifts him and drops him GUT first across the guardrail. He’s walking away from Tre now and looks to be through with fighting him outside..
MN: I don’t think so Dean.
DT: Mike’s right and Stalker charging now at Tre, NAILS HIM with a boot across the side of the face sending Tre into the front row of the crowd.
MN: Has the bell rung yet?
DM: No Mike this match doesn’t begin until both competitors are in the ring and Carlos Gomez rings the bell.
MN: Wait a second.. Carlos Gomez.. Isn’t he the ref that gave Tre the win in that fiasco of a match between him and Stevens?
DT: That’s right Mike. The fans look to be helping Tre up to his feet now and Stalker comes over to help them. A fan tosses his beer cup all over Stalker and he is furious. He reaches for the fan who manages to avoid his grasp just as Ice Tre gets situated he catches Stalker off guard with a right hook!
DM: Stalker stumbles backwards and Tre grabs hold of the guard rail, jumps up and FLYING CLOTHESLINE! Stalker is laid out and Tre quickly gathers himself back to his feet and the fans are cheering his name!!
MN: Tre picks up Stalker by the hair and starts leading him up the steps to inside the cage and he.. Stops? Is he slow in the head? Start the match already he can win right now if he’s quick enough!
DM: Tre spins Stalker around and throws him into the guardrail! And he’s posing for the cheering fans yet again!!
DT: This showboating is going to get him nowhere.
MN: What’s he pointing at?
DM: I believe the Spanish announcer’s table.
MN: Uh oh..
DT: The fans know it and they are cheering even louder now as Tre picks Stalker up by the hair yet again and slams another fist into the back of his head!
DM: He’s pulling Stalker over to the announcer’s table and he hooks him up right next to it.. EVENFLOW! EVENFLOW! He just used Stalker’s finishing move on him straight to the floor! Stalker has to be out cold!
MN: Now he needs to get him in the cage and start the match so he can win already!
DT: I think he has other plans. Picking Stalker up again Tre slowly gets him up onto the Spanish announcer’s table struggling to lift him as he does. Tre nails him with a couple of elbows and then points to the top of the cage! The fans are chanting him on now!!
MN: Ice Tre will now show the world just how good he really is!
DM: I thought you wanted him to win this already? Get in, get out as quick as possible?
MN: Sssshh he’s almost to the top of the cage now.
DT: I don’t know his exact plan here but Tre is up near the top of the cage, turns around, balances himself and soaks in the cheering crowd for a moment.
DM: HEY! I think I just saw Stalker moving a bit!
MN: TRE GET OFF THE CAGE!!
DT: Tre doesn’t see it and he can’t hear you Mike. He brushes his shoulder off and.. JUMPS WITH A FLYING LEG DROP.. And STALKER ROLLS OFF THE TABLE!! OH MY GOD!
MN: He’s got to be dead.
DM: Most normal people wouldn’t be able to survive something like that but Empire Pro Wrestlers aren’t normal people.
DT: You got that right Dean. Although Tre is in an absolute horrible place and Stalker is already on his feet. He’s staring at Tre smiling like a maniac. He’s crouching next to Tre now and is talking to him. I have no idea what he’s telling him but I’m sure it’s not nice.
DM: Stalker is grabbing the vacated time keeper’s steel chair and folds it up. He grabs Tre’s arm and is dragging him towards the ring. Debris is scattered everywhere as Tre gets pulled off the pile of the broken announcer table.
MN: I knew Tre shouldn’t have tried something that drastic. He’s paying for it now. Stalker’s climbing up the steps towards the cage door and Tre is just being dragged behind him. Man the match hasn’t even started yet and he’s already a bloody mess!
DT: Quit doing play by play Mike!
MN: Oh.. Didn’t even realize.
DM: Well stop cause you are horrible at it.
MN: At least I got more wrestling skill then you.
DT: Boys.. Calm down. Focus on the match. Stalker just chucked the chair in the ring and is now shoving Tre headfirst through the ropes into the ring. He follows close behind him and the refs on the outside FINALLY lock them in the cage.
DM: The ref, Carlos Gomez, is checking on Tre to make sure he’s alright and Stalker shoves him off telling him to ring the bell. Gomez reluctantly does and Stalker just grins as he looks down at the bloody Ice Tre.
MN: Alright well let’s get this thing over with, no reason we need to see this idiot in the ring any longer.
DT: I’m sure Stalker isn’t through with him yet, all we can hope for now is that Ice Tre will end up being able to walk out of this cage instead of being carried out on a stretcher.
DM: For some reason, Stalker seems like he wants him to leave on a stretcher. Setting up the chair in the middle of the ring now, Stalker picks up the bloody Ice Tre and whips him into the ropes, coming back now.. Drop toe hold straight into the chair! Tre’s face just bounced off the seat of that metal chair.
MN: That has got to be painful.
DT: Oh my.. There is a pool of blood pouring from his nose and Stalker is just staring over him like a buzzard looking to feed.
MN: He’s stalking his prey.
DM: Very original Mike. Tre now, trying to get to his knees, Stalker just kicks him back down on the mat. Blood is pouring out Tre’s nose and he’s doing his best to get up but Stalker refuses to let him. Tre is crawling ever so slowly to the ropes and finally grabs a hold of the bottom one and now the second one and he’s up to his feet now.
DT: Grinning now Stalker walks slowly over to Ice Tre ready to continue his assault. Tre with a kick to the gut cuts Stalker off and knocks the wind out of him. Tre is trying to steady himself on his feet now while Stalker recovers and goes to grapple him.
DM: Tre ducks from Stalker’s grasp and nails him with a punch to the gut, he goes for another kick but Stalker grabs his leg… ENZIGURI!!
MN: Wow that was out of nowhere.
DT: Stalker was definitely caught off guard on that one, Tre is going to take advantage, he runs against the ropes jumps up, SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT! The fans are again cheering Tre trying to get him to his feet to capitalize.
DM: Obviously that combo had to take a lot out of him.
MN: Obviously you have no idea that that man right there is the TRU Number one contenda and he DOES not go down that easily.
DM: ………………………………..
MN: Exactly.
DT: Tre is hearing the fans and pulling himself up yet again. Ripping off his wife beater to the adoring cheers of the female fans, he brushes his shoulder off and drops an elbow straight across Stalker’s throat. Picking himself up along with Stalker, he hooks him, side headlock and Stalker throws him off into the ropes. Tre comes back, ducks a clothesline, bounces on the other side, FLYING CROSS BODY!
DM: Tre is getting pumped up now. And the fans are loving it. Tre picking up the chair now looks down at Stalker. Lifting the chair up and he brings it CRASHING down against Stalker’s leg! Tre, with a bloody face, starts laughing at the fallen Stalker. Lifting the chair up again he brings it crashing down yet again against his leg.
MN: Oh, I like this plan, take out his leg so he can’t climb the cage.
DT: Tre throws the chair to the ground and grabs Stalker up by his hair, hooks him, SPINNING SUPLEX on the chair! Tre springboards himself up to his feet. He pounds his chest and points out to the crazed fans. Wiping the blood from his face, he flings it down on the fallen Stalker and starts walking ‘fly’ like towards the cage door.
MN: Open that door!
DM: The refs are unlocking the door as Tre waits patiently…. But Stalker’s up to his feet now and the fans are screaming at Tre to turn around, he does, Stalker is staring him down and Tre gets furious charging at him with a spear to the ground! Laying his fists into his face, the crowd starts counting the punches with him.
MN: 1...2.…3.…4.….5.…6.…7.….8.….9... Brushes his shoulder off and 10!!
DT: Amazing you can count to ten.
MN: Actually I can count much higher then that but honestly what’s the need? It’s not like counting has ever helped me in my whole entire life.
DM: Really? That doesn’t surprise me. Anyways, folks, this has been an amazing comeback so far. Tre standing in the middle of the ring above a fallen Stalker after coming crashing 30 feet from mid air through an announcer’s table.
DT: The fans seems to have really gotten behind him here tonight. And Tre is absolutely loving it, grabbing the chair now as Stalker is picking himself up against the ropes. Tre spins around, sees him, swings the chair, STALKER MOVES! The chair bounces off the ropes and slams directly into Tre’s face!
DM: The chair gets dropped in front of him and Tre is dazed and confused. Stalker swoops up behind him, FRONT FACE RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP onto the chair! Maybe I spoke of a comeback too soon.
MN: It’s amazing how screwed up some people can be in the head. He’s smiling about what just happened.
DT: He’s never claimed to be sane. Stalker grabs Tre by his shirt and pulls him up to his knees. He kicks him in the gut and Tre flops over on his back holding his head and stomach in sheer pain. Stalker is now yelling at him to get up. Mocking him by brushing his shoulder off.
MN: COMPLETELY DISRESPECTFUL!
DM: Stalker is taunting him to get up and is standing back waiting for him. Tre struggles to get to his knees but does.
DT: With Stalker yelling at him Tre is slowly getting himself up on his feet. Finally he is and now he is face to face with a psychopath. They are just locked in a stare down.
MN: Maybe this will be the deciding factor in the match. GO TRE!
DM: You amaze me every time Mike. Stalker has his arms outstretched and it waiting for Tre to make the first move. He does, punching Stalker in the gut, it doesn’t phase him. Tre with another right hand to the gut and Stalker doesn’t budge. He’s laughing at him now, his face covered in blood.
DT: Tre is not too happy about that and looks back at the crowd almost acknowledging them and he… drops to the ground and LOW BLOWS Stalker! Stalker doubles over and Tre charges towards the ropes, bounces off, comes back with a DROPKICK TO THE KNEE! Stalker falls to his knees holding his groin in pain and Tre is sizing him up now… what’s this? DIRECT KICK to the neck of Stalker!
MN: ICE PICK ICE PICK ICE PICK ICE PICK!!!!
DM: What the **** is an ice pick?
MN: THAT’S HIS FINISHER! STALKER IS DONE WITH!
DT: Tre feels the same way, he’s heading towards the cage side and starts climbing up slowly. He’s in obvious pain as he can only move slowly up the side of the cage.
DM: Stalker is starting to stir and Tre has yet to reach the top of the cage. He’s slowly but surely getting there and Stalker is on his knees now. Tre looks back down and pushes himself further up the cage. Stalker notices him and struggles to his feet and stumbles towards the cage side.
DT: Stalker is climbing… faster then Tre was. Tre is at the top but Stalker is closing in on him. Tre flips his legs over the other side of the cage and Stalker is almost there! Tre is on the other side but STALKER GRABS HIS HAIR!
MN: COME ON TRE!
DM: Stalker yanks him up slightly switching his hold from Tre’s hair to his shirt and pulls him up farther! They are exchanging blows now! Tre is losing his balance.. He’s going to fall…
MN: To victory!
DT: He’s trying to hold on but his arms loses grip… he’s leaning back… about to FALL! STALKER GRABS HIS NECKLACE! AND IT DOESN’T BREAK!
MN: Oh man I knew he shouldn’t have made that new purchase!
DM: Stalker wails on him with a right hand and grabs a hold of his hair slamming him face first on to the top of the cage. Stalker starts pulling Tre back onto the other side of the cage, one leg at a time. He nails him with a couple of blows to the back and Tre looks to be knocked out.
DT: This isn’t a good position for him to be in. Stalker is looking down at the ring and at Tre now…. He’s smiling at the crowd with a mouthful of blood. He hooks Tre under his gut, sizes him up… looks down at the ring again… and he.. And he…. OH MY GOD POWERB….!!!
MN: WHAT THE ****!!!!!
DM: What just happened?!?!
DT: Stalker topples off the top of the cage after sending Tre falling with a massive power bomb that sent…. TRE… through the RING!?!??!?
MN: There is a massive hole in the ring? What the hell?!?
DM: I don’t know but Carlos Gomez is trying to get a hold of the situation, he’s looking down in the hole, crouched over it looking for signs of life.
MN: This is insanity! He could be dead!
DT: Stalker is crawling over slowly to the hole, in sheer pain holding his knee. He’s screaming at Gomez asking him what the hell is going on.
DM: Gomez has no idea! Stalker is furious…. He gets to his feet and is looking at the hole in the ring in disbelief. His eyes switch to Gomez and Stalker shoves him to the ground screaming at him. Gomez struggles up to his feet and the refs finally open the cage door on the outside and storm in the ring to figure out what’s going on.
DT: The match’s ref Carlos Gomez scurries out of the ring in fear of a raging Stalker who is going ballistic in the ring.
MN: What’s that??
DT: What’s what?
MN: You don’t see that?!?
DM: See what Mike?
MN: It’s… it’s… IT’S ICE TRE!!!!!!
DM: What.. Where?!
[Pandemonium ensues as Ice Tre crawls from under the ring at Carlos Gomez’s feet who helps him up. The ref looks at an irate Stalker in the ring and signals the timekeeper to ring the bell. Raising Ice Tre’s hand up in the air, he declares him the winner and hands him the ‘King of the Cage’ Crown.]
MN: ICE TRE WON!!
DT: And Stalker is furious! He’s screaming at Tre as Tre slowly walks up the aisle smiling at Stalker with a bloody face.
DM: This… was… amazing. !
[The dust settles from the intense cage match that just transpired. The cage is taken down and the arena is ready for another match... or is it?]
DT: Well that was a totally intense match between Ice Tre and Stalker obviously – but there’s some controversy with the ending, as usual.
MN: Ice Tre is my hero – that’s all I’m saying….
[MUSIC UP: “Eat the Rich” by Fozzy.]
MN: Leave it to that jerko to interrupt my statement of satisfaction over the winner of that match.
DM: Yeah, because we all know you’re the only one who can interrupt people.
[JA comes out to a raucous pop from the Houston crowd.]
DT: Guys, pipe down. I’m guessing the Anglo Luchador is arriving to let us know how he’s spending his bonus check from Dan Ryan for staying faithful to EPW.
MN: Bah, if I were our esteemed owner, that rat wouldn’t get a penny. I’ve heard him on that second-rate company’s broadcasts. He’s lying just to make a profit!
[JA slaps hands with the crowd as he makes his way to the ring. Lollipop and his legal counsel, Rotundaholic Anonymous, make their way behind him.]
DM: I doubt it. From what I understand, JA is vehemently opposed to Ryan and Beast ruining both companies with this petty feud of theirs. So neener-neener, Neels, you butt-munch.
DT: We’ll take you back to Black Dawn when this unscheduled interruption of Romper Room is over.
[JA hits the ring and grabs a microphone. Music dies down.]
MN: Romper Room... this ain’t the sixties, Thomas! You’re showing your age!
DT: Pipe down.
[JA taps the mic and puts it to his mouth.]
JA: So, I hear there has been a lot of buzz as to what I’ve been planning tonight, as well there should be. I recently came into a lot of money. I mean a sh*tpile of money. Seriously, I mean, a quarter of a million dollars? As Ice Tre would say... SHEEZY FO REEZY IN THE HEEZY!
[Pop from the crowd.]
JA: But folks, you know as well as I do that the money given to me by one “All-Natural” Dan Ryan isn’t exactly earned in good faith. Basically, it’s a payment to stand down in defense of that other company I work for...
[A mixed reaction comes over the crowd.]
JA: Hey now, hey now, I’m not trying to pit side against side here. I know that it’s a very touchier issue than bringing up Bud Adams at a Texan fan rally.
[Lusty boos for the man who took the Oilers out of Houston.]
JA: And that’s why I accepted the cash, looking at it not as a choosing of one side over the other, but as a rejection of one furry douche-turkey’s championing of sabotaging one fed while inviting the guy he’s trying to get over on into the other fed and bringing that down too in the process. But, because that payout came from the other part of that asstacular equation, I can’t in good faith put it in my bank account. Besides, I’ve sold enough of my stocks at a nice profit against margin to last me until I’m cold and dead, and it’s afforded me to spend both of my paychecks on things like forty-thousand cheeseburger-and-taco combos from Jack in the Box to feed my extended family during an impromptu reunion, or a thirty-eight-and-four-sevenths feet tall bronze likeness of the bass player from Grand Funk Railroad...
[Dramatic pause]
JA: Don’t ask.
MN: I DON’T CARE!
DT and DM: SHUT UP, NEELS!
JA: So Lord knows I can blow all this blood money I got from Danny Boy on something to entertain people, because that’s what I do when I’m not breaking my neck in this ring. I entertain, and some have said that I’m one of the best at that.
MN: Pompous dic...
DT: FAMILY SHOW!
MN: ...dictator.
JA: So, without further ado, let me introduce you to Jericoholic Hulkamaniac Anonymous’ Black Dawn Grand Humongousostatious Fungasmatorious Displayararium of Two-Thousand-and-Eight!
[RA abruptly steps forward and pulls a microphone out of his back pocket and starts speaking at an insanely fast pace.]
RA: The following stunts are performed by trained professionals. Please do not attempt to imitate in any form whatsoever in the home. All the following has been sanctioned by the Harris County Board of Permits. No animals will be harmed. Jericoholic Hulkamaniac Anonymous’ Black Dawn Grand Humongousostatious Fungasmatorious Displayarium of Two-Thousand-And-Eight is a registered trademark of Anonymous Enterprises and may not be transmitted without express written consent of Jericoholic Anonymous. All rights reserved, please see showroom for details, side effects may be itchy skin, uncontrollable crying and a leaky anus.
[JA shoves his cousin out of the way.]
JA: Err, thanks, cuz...
[RA nods.]
MN: That was...
DM: Impressive!
MN: I was going more for bizarre and pointless, but whatever.
JA: Alright, and now, LET THE SHOW BEGIN!
[A loud BOOM echoes throughout the arena as loud pyrotechnics explode in the air above the stands.]
MN: HOLD ME!
DM: Neels, relax, it’s just fireworks, but if you get too scared, you can always use Depends Adult Diapers. Now hold 63 percent more crap than the competitors!
DT: You really need to get your shilling in check, Dean.
DM: Hey, it pays the bills.
[After the firework subside, “Stars and Stripes Forever” in marching band form starts to emanate from inside the entry way. The University of Houston marching band comes strutting out in full uniform, playing the John Philip Sousa tune with zeal. The last drummer to enter the ringside area is followed by Kevin Kolb, wearing his Houston Cougars jersey and playing to the hometown crowd for a big pop.]
MN: Ham!
DM: See, I’m not the only one who shills.
MN: I was describing the third-rate quarterback heading out.
DT: Hey, third-rate or second-round is regardless. This is quite the gaudy show put on by the Anglo Luchador.
[The curtain rustles and out comes a man holding a rope that goes up as it goes into the back.]
DM: I don’t think it’s over yet!
[The blaring nasally-sounding horn signals the arrival of a pachyderm, and right through the curtain walks one seven-and-a-half ton elephant. Behind it walks another trainer leading another elephant into the arena. Behind that one walks another trainer leading an elephant with a banner on the side reading “Jericoholic’s Cavalcade of the Stars,” and a carriage on its back with such washed-up stars as Tiffany, Frank Stallone, Joe Piscopo and Yahoo Serious.]
DT: I... I’m speechless.
MN: I’m not! I’m excited! Is that really Joe Piscopo?
DM: Neels, stop swooning or else I’ll bash you over the head with a fire extinguisher.
MN: Is it one of your name brand ones that you shill?
DM: No, but it’ll still frigging hurt.
[A rope ladder unfurls from the side of the third elephant as the Z-listers climb down gingerly.]
DT: I just can’t believe JA is doing all this with his loyalty money.
DM: Yeah, and quite frankly, I’m shocked he went to this length. Renting the band alone must have cost him a cool one-hundred Gs.
MN: Not to mention hiring people to pick up all that elephant crap.
DM: No, I’m pretty sure Ryan’s gonna make you do that before you go jetting off to the next A1E broadcast. Y’know, since you’re his lapdog and all.
MN: Just because you didn’t get chosen to go over there, don’t go taking it out on me.
[Everyone climbs into the ring, and the band dies down. JA brings the microphone back to his mouth when all of a sudden, “Zero” plays on the PA.]
DT: Uh-oh, looks like the owner is going to step in.
MN: Good, end this travishamockery, but not before I get Joey’s autograph!
DM: Joey?
[Ryan appears on the Empire-O-Tron from his office.]
MN: Hey, let me have my boyish innocence, okay? But shh, the boss is about to talk.
RYAN: What in God’s name is going on out there?
JA: Hey, boss, I already told you, it’s Jericoholic Hulka...
RYAN: [interrupting] I already know what you’re calling it, but that doesn’t mean I think it’s a good use of company time, especially for someone treading on as thin ice as you.
JA: Moi, on thin ice? Surely, you jest mah capitan. I told you, I am only doing what I’m doing in good fun. Besides, I’m not siding with Beast. Isn’t that the only condition? Cuz, ain’t it?
RA: I believe it is.
JA: So there, I’m not doing anything wrong. So why don’t you just come on down here...
RYAN: Umm, no. How about I stay right here and delegate? And furthermore, yes, the only condition to you receiving your check was to swear off loyalty from Mr. Westcott, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with you taking that money and turning my pay-per-view event into a three-ring circus of mindless drivel that you call entertainment. It only means I can’t sue you to get that money back...
JA: Whoa, whoa, whoa... what makes you think I spent my money on all this? Hell, what makes you think I spent any money on this?
[Ryan looks shocked.]
DT: What?
MN: HE STOLE THE ELEPHANTS AND KIDNAPPED JOEY! ARREST HIM! ARREST HIM!
DM: That’s it, I’m going for the fire extinguisher.
JA: That’s right, I didn’t pay a single cent for any of this. The University of Houston was glad to lend me their marching band in exchange for a series of guest lectures in their economics department. Kevin Kolb here...
[Kolb raises his right hand in a fist while screaming to the crowd.]
JA: ...well, let’s just say that having front row season tickets at the Linc provided me some choice mingling opportunities during Tee-Vee timeouts. The celebrities, well, all of them owed me one for various things, except Yahoo Serious over here, who was panhandling in front of the arena...
[The Australian actor bumrushes JA and grabs the mic.]
YS: Can someone spare a dollah so I can buy a shrimp from the bahbie?
[JA yanks the mic away from him while Joe Piscopo grabs Serious and tosses him out of the ring.]
JA: Jesus Christ, thanks Joe, I guess I owe you one now.
MN: YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT YOU OWE HIM ONE!
DT and DM: SHUT UP, NEELS!
JA: And those four elephants out there, well, let’s just say my new lucrative endorsement deal for Ringling Bros. pays in much more than just cash.
RYAN: Wait a second, wait a second, I only count three.
JA: Oh yeah, that’s right, there are only three elephants in the arena right now. But I did get four elephants. MONTY! SHOW ‘EM THE FOURTH ELEPHANT!
[Cut to the parking lot, a trainer with an elephant on a rope, ass-end facing the cars.]
JA V/O: There he is! Ain’t he a good elephant?
[Cut back to the ring area.]
RYAN: Are you going anywhere with this?
JA: Actually boss, now that you mention it, I am. You see, in addition to Ringling Bros., I’ve also scored a major endorsement deal with Ex-Lax. You know, the laxative? Yeah, that’s a pretty sweet deal.
RYAN: What does that have to do with anything?
JA: Funny you should ask.
[Cut back to the elephant in the parking lot.]
JA V/O: You see, in addition to money, the endorsement comes with a year’s supply of product. Now, I have no use for a whole year’s worth of that crap, seeing as I eat a diet high in fiber anyway, but...
[The camera pans around to show a side view of the elephant, showing it to be standing right in front of Ryan’s and Beast’s cars in the parking lot.]
JA V/O: ...it’s just enough to make an elephant just absolutely lose all control of its bowels within fifteen minutes of ingestion. And by my count, it’s been fourteen minutes just about...
[Just then, the elephant lets out an abrupt snort before letting lose in MASSIVE quantities all over Beast’s Escalade and Ryan’s Rolls-Royce. A distinct puking sound can be heard from the broadcast booth.]
DM V/O: Jesus Christ, Neels!
DT V/O: It’s everywhere!
DM V/O: What, the crap or Neels’ throw up?
MN V/O: [gasping] Get a grip, I only let out a little bit and I swallowed it all back in. Don’t try to embarrass me more than this masked jackass is doing with this display!
DM V/O: Hey, it may be gross, but it’s damn funny!
MN V/O: Poop humor... grow up!
[Cut back to the arena to shots of various fans, some of them laughing hysterically, some of them dry heaving. Cut to a shot of JA and his entourage all laughing hysterically. The Empire-O-Tron cuts back to Dan Ryan, who is furious.]
MN: Look at what you did, you freak! You pissed off the boss!
DM: He did, but he was funny doing it. Props to you, Mr. Anonymous.
MN: Hey! You better watch what you’re saying or else you’ll get FIRED! The boss is pissed and rightfully so!
DT: I have no opinion about this either way, but... Neels is right on one thing. You don’t go making Dan Ryan mad.
RYAN: You... you have about five seconds to get the hell out of my ring...
JA: [interrupting] Hold on now, hold on. Time for a Tee-Oh here. All I did was in good fun...
RYAN: Good fun? GOOD FUN? You had an elephant take a wet dump all over my personal vehicle!
JA: That’s not entirely true. It dumped on Beast’s car too.
DM: See Neels? Fun for everyone!
MN: Shove it.
RYAN: That really doesn’t matter at this point...
JA: But it does. You see, this whole spectacle, this entire Displayarium I’ve been doing, well, I have to admit, there were some ulterior motives. Yes, I wanted to entertain the great fans of Empire Pro Wrestling, amirite?
[The fans at the Toyota Center pop HUGE!]
MN: Idiots.
JA: But... I also wanted to teach certain parties a lesson. And since the steroids haven’t ravaged your brain too much and you’re not a dull man yet, Herr Ryan, I can guess that you figured whom that lesson was being taught to. You see... these fans deserve a lot better than to be subjected to a mindless turf war, a pissing contest between you and the Furball. You two couldn’t just settle your differences the way we all do, in this very ring. No, you two had to start jerking each other’s chains with the companies we all work for, and thus dragging these GREAT fans through the proverbial elephant diarrhea. And despite all that, despite you two not only trying to ruin Aye-One-Ee but also Ee-Pee-Dubya, this arena is SOLD OUT and filled to CAPACITY!
[Another huge pop from the Houston crowd.]
JA: It just goes to prove that these fans still love your company despite getting crapped on by you and the other muscle-brained idiot. So in return, I thought I’d let them do the crapping... vicariously, of course, through the only man in this entire ordeal who is committed to putting them first, not my huge, crushing ego. So Houston, how does it feel to be the ones taking the dump all over Dan Ryan and Beast instead of the other way around?
[Another nuclear pop from the crowd, signaling their approval. The camera cuts to Ryan on-screen making a mocking golf-clap.]
RYAN: Great job, J. Really good. You really showed me. I’m speechless...
[JA is about to say something, but Ryan immediately cuts him off.]
RYAN: ...except I’m not. You might think it’s cute to come out here, make a mockery of my company by putting on a display that clearly isn’t wrestling-related...
JA: Yeah, and having IrishRed tangle with a circus monkey...
RYAN: Shut up!
MN: YOU TELL ‘IM BOSS!
RYAN: You put on this display and you clearly cross me in front of everyone. And you expect me to think it’s all in good fun? Really? You think I’m that stupid to laugh at the joke you played on me and my entire company, in my hometown no less? Well, this might have worked when I wasn’t as hands-on and Freeman was running the show. Hell, you might have been able to pull this off in that other company before Nathan Houston got shown the door. But on my watch, here, on a pay-per-view event? No, not a chance.
[Boos from the crowd.]
RYAN: However, I’m not an unreasonable man, not at all. So before I fire you from this company AND from the other company I’m presently in charge of, I’ll give you the chance to explain what you spent with the money I gave you.
[JA pretends to loosen a collar that isn’t there before speaking again.]
JA: So you’re going to fire me? Danny Boy, that’d be a really bad Pee-Arr move for you.
RYAN: PR move?
JA: Yeah, how bad would it look for you to fire the guy who just facilitated giving your fans a bonus from you for sticking with this company even through your idiotic slapfight with Beast?
RYAN: What?
JA: Oh, yeah, that’s right, I haven’t gotten to that part yet. You see, if you had just let me finish this thing without you coming in and acting all high and mighty, you’d have seen the part where I tell everyone to look under their seats. So, everyone in attendance... please look under your seats!
[There’s an initial confusion, but moments later a collective pop blows the roof off the Toyota Center.]
JA: That’s right, courtesy of Dan Ryan, everyone in this facility is now one-hundred dollars richer!
DM: A hundred bucks?
MN: I DON’T HAVE ANY MONEY UNDER MY SEAT!
DM: That’s because you’re not a fan, you’re an employee, dingus.
MN: I CALL SHENANIGANS!
DT and DM: SHUT UP, NEELS!
JA: That’s right, every fan is a Benjamin Franklin up, thanks to Dan Ryan! Everyone, give our owner a round of applause for being such a good sport about everything!
[Another nuclear pop, this time, for Dan Ryan, his first of the segment.]
JA: Give it up for the boss!
RYAN: So that’s what you spent the money on? But I only gave you a quarter-mil. You need at least two million easy to cover $100 for everyone here.
JA: Well, I had some help. You see, Lollipop donated her bonus to me. So did my cousin back here. And before you call shenanigans on that, boss, he signed a contract and he was eligible. He’s a lawyer too, so you know he’s legit. Oh yeah, don’t forget Priest and Eisenkreuz either, and Bill Laimbeer. I bet you didn’t know he was still under contract. A few other benefactors gave their money up too, I won’t name names though, but yeah, I definitely collected enough scratch so that your generosity went back to the great fans of Empire Pro Wrestling!
[Another pop.]
JA: So you see... because of me, you’re going to get a metric ton of publicity, good pub for a change. And for you to fire me after I did this for you, well, wouldn’t that negate everything?
[Ryan looks a bit uncomfortable on the screen.]
MN: Don’t do it, boss! Don’t let him keep his job! It’s blackmail!
DM: Oh shove it, Neels. Jay-Aye has done nothing to warrant losing his job, and on top of that, he’s cleverly got Ryan by the grapes.
RYAN: You know what... you’re right. How am I going to fire you after doing this? You’re still on my sh*t-list, but you got one over on me. I’m man enough to admit it. But if you think it’s going to be smooth sailing from here on out for you... well, let’s just say no one has ever crossed me and been better for having done so afterwards. You’re on thin ice. So enjoy the rest of your night, because it’ll be the last victory you have here for a long, long time.
[The Tron goes to static as JA’s music cues up again.]
DT: I can’t believe it! Jericoholic Anonymous saved his job and got one over on the Ego Buster.
DM: I just can’t wait to see Beast’s reaction to this.
MN: Screw Beast. Screw JA. Screw the fans, and screw both of you.
DM: Tell us how you really feel, Neels.
DT: Okay, let’s take a break so that we can get the ring ready for the next match.