[The Second City Wrestlerette]

RP: This is love at first sight! Sadie doesn't like good girls, she's crazy, that's exactly my kinda girl!

LvK: You forgot some important things each of 'your kinda girl' should be: Blind and deaf AND Coming up next, Ladies and Gentlemen...

Cut to a graphic with me on the right side, looking kinda annoyed with my right fist pressed against my hip and my head turned away from the girl who's at the left. A big Canadian girl, dressed in a Canadian Flag-themed T-shirt, her right arm, braced, up in the air.

LvK: ...is the match between „Iron“ Michelle Blound and Lisa Starr, who has hopefully recovered after what happened to her at First Strike.

RP: Sure! I for one, hope she's finally all cleared up in her head after Callista cracked it with her Mag....nificent offense.

LvK: Magnificent offense? Are you sure that's what you wanted to say?

RP: Positive!

LvK: Alright, anyways, let's get ready for our third match of the night!

CG: The following contest is set for one fall! Introducing first...

Oh Canada, our home and native land – blares through the speakers as the lights in the arena turn red. It sounds like lovely, yet Canadian children's choir sang it...and then it's replaced by some generic rock music as my opponent for tonight comes from behind the curtains.

CG: She hails from Mississauge, Ontario, Canada. Standing 5'10'' tall and weighting in at 165 pounds. It's Canada's Greatest Athlete, „Iron“ Michelle Blount!

The crowd boos my tall opponent who doesn't show a lot of love for the fans, or their country, at all. She's wearing a black half top over a red sports bra. A maple leaf cutout on the chest of her top, letting the sports bra shimmer through in that Maple Leaf-shape. Also in a pair of black wrestling trunks, along with midcalf boots. After climbing into the ring, she raises her right arm and gives the heavy brace at her elbow a little tug with her left before settling in her corner and her music fades out.

CG: And her opponent...

The lights dim, white and blue lights flash and roam the arena as „Architects“ by Rise Against blares through the speakers. Two of the lights focus on the curtain, a blue and a white one, and that's when I come charging out. After one quick step I hop up a bit, and crouch on the spot I land. Left hand resting on my left thigh. My right hand, covered by a black, fingerless glove, balled to a fist, bumps against the floor once before pounding that fist into the air as I get back up to my feet.

CG: From Chicago, Illinois. Standing 5'5'', weighing in at 115lbs. LLLLLLLLISA STAAAARRRRRRRR!

The crowd cheers as my knee high, silverish white and black converse boots thud over the steel ramp. Tied tops of the blue laces bounce a bit with each step. Right above the boots, I got a pair of black knee pads on. On top I'm wearing a black tanktop. A silver L and a blue S on the back of it. To finish off the outfit, I'm in a pair of ripped jeans that are tucked into the boots and knee pads. I didn't even bother to get into my wrestling outfit, just put on my boots, the pads and voila, here I am! Looking more pissed than ever after what happened at First Strike.

Finally reaching the ring, I hop and pull myself up to the ring apron with a little help from the middle rope. My bright platinum hair, with the trademark blue strands, falls over my shoulders as I get to my feet, then leap up and over the top rope into the ring. Landing with a few bounces on my toes. The crowd cheers as I give my taller opponent a little glare before turning to climb up to the middle ropes in my corner. My right arm out, tapping the wrist like tapping on a watch before shouting out „TIME'S BROKEN!“  and then hopping back to the canvas. Rolling my neck and shoulders, getting ready for the match.

LvK: Starr doesn't look very happy tonight, does she?

RP: I've never seen her real happy ever since I laid...

LvK: IN YOUR DREAMS and SHUT THE F*BEEP* UP FINALLY!!

RP: Did you just cause a beep? Wow! Didn't think you had it in you! I'm so proud of you!

LvK: You? Proud of me? Oh god, I never felt so dirty...

RP: That's what she s...

LvK: AAAAAND the match is underway!

*DING DING DING*

I'm out of my corner quickly, eyes narrowed at my bigger opponent...gee, why do I always get the tall ones?! She's obviously slower than I am, what I want to avoid though, is the power game. We're circling...I'm waiting for the right moment and find it when she comes lunging in rather clumsily. I quickly duck under it, and start throwing some kicks to her belly and chest once she's bent over.

LvK: Look at her go! Starr's going RIGHT in on Iron Michelle!

RP: Yeah, the CGA IMG looks just like Callista early on in her match against the Rockie. Tell me, how did that end again?

LvK: It ended with a damn Mag-

RP: -nificent offense from Callista. I know! ...I know.

While the two goofballs at the table argue, I keep my attack on the Canadian going. Spinning to my left and smacking a hard backhand across the side of her face before grabbing for a wrist. I turn and send her running across the ring, following right behind her and leaping up to go for a Running Calf Kick.

LvK: Ohhhhh right across the face! Ouch that had to hurt!

She goes down to her knees, where I quickly slide my arm under hers and pull. Getting Michelle over on her back, quickly hooking a leg as the ref drops for the count.

ONE

and she kicks out hard

LvK: Now that pin was a little early. „Iron“ Michelle may have not won in a while, but she's no pushover.

RP: Starr's a disappointment! Rousey would have her finished 10 times by now!

LvK: …

RP: Just saying!

LvK: …

RP: We'll be right back after this short commercial break!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vC0OMNVsE-Q

RP: Just embrace the jiggle!

In the ring the action has slowed down as right now I'm trapped, face down on the canvas with Michelle having me in a side headlock.

LvK: Let's have a look at what you missed during the break.

The screen splits and a replay appears on the left side of the screen, labeled with „During commercial“ and I'm seen running into the ropes, bouncing back with a Springboard and being intercepted by a Big Boot from the big Canadian. That move is repeated a few times from different angles, while on the Live Screen I start pushing my way up to my knees.

RP: Usually it's me who let's the Big Hammer out like that!

LvK: I won't ask...

RP: Oh come on! Ask! You know you wanna hear my answer!

LvK: No way!

RP: It's what I call my...

LvK: JESUS CHRIST WILL YOU STOP?!

RP: ...Pitbull. Get your mind out of the gutter, Larry!

The live action returns to full screen as I fight my way up to my feet along with rhythmic „Lisa Starr“ chants from the crowd. Once standing, I throw my elbow back into Blount's ribs. Once, twice, three times. Feeling the grip loosen when suddenly my hair is grabbed and I'm taken back down harshly. The ref gets in my opponent's face, yelling at her to „Watch the hair!“ as she just grins ear to ear. The fans boo as she goes back to work. Grabbing for my hair yet again to yank me up to my feet. She takes my arm and throws me into the ropes. Taking them back first to come running back at her and as I do, she's looking to use that brace to her advantage, swinging the elbow for my face. I see it coming and duck under it. Picking up some more speed before leaping into the ropes. I Springboard off of it, twisting to my left and throwing my right leg around. And just as she turns to face me again...WHACK! I smack her right across the side of her head with a big kick.

LvK: Lisa hits the Stage Dive! From out of nowhere! Took the big girl right off her feet!

I'm landing on a knee as my opponent falls to the ring with a loud thud. The crowd on their feet as I push myself up and head over to the downed Canadian. Giving her braced elbow a quick little stomp for good measure on my way past her before grabbing for her head. Dragging the groaning girl up until she's on her knees, her head under my right arm as I pull my right leg back before kicking it out forwards along with my left. Throwing myself down on my back to drill her head into the canvas with a DDT. It's always a satisfying feeling to watch a girl's head snap up off the boards like that. That groggy look, that groan from the crowd, and then having her drop down again with her arms wrapped around her head...delicious! I sit up, for the first time tonight I'm actually seen with a smile across my lips.

LvK: Starr looks happier now!

RP: Doesn't everyone look satisfied and happy after getting head?

LvK: You're disgusting!!

After taking some time to take a breather, I get to my feet and pull my opponent up with me. Once we're standing I'm not wasting any more time. Stepping in and ducking a bit to get my head and neck underneath her right arm as I wrap my right arm across her neck and back. My left arm goes around her leg, wrapped around her right thigh. Taking a few deep breaths, knowing that this will NOT be easy to pull off against a 165lbs girl!

RP: There's NO way she can pull this off again! Not against CGA IMB!

LvK: She got it against Quinn, too! But this girl is another weight class! She shouldn't even be trying this...OH MY!

With a loud scream of effort I straighten out my legs, leaning back and trying to straighten up with my arms around the big girl. She slooowly comes off the canvas and as she does, I snap my hips forward and twist my body to the left a bit. Pulling my right arm across to that side to get the girl up and over, slamming her down into the canvas neck and shoulders first with a T-Bone Suplex. Getting a loud cheer from the crowd as the ring shakes hard. Even a little “Holy Shit” chant comes up after I've Suplexed a woman 50lbs heavier than myself.

LvK: I can't believe it! Starr hit the Straight Edge! Can you believe it?! Wow!!

RP: She's obviously doped!

LvK: We talked about that last time, remember?

RP: The more reason to think she is! She made us believe that twice in 1 week now!

LvK: She made YOU think so! And a nutcase like you isn't a trustworthy, independent prosecutor.

RP: I'm 'Murican!! So I'm all independent since 1777, biatch!

LvK: sighs...

This Suplex caught everyone off guard it seems. The ref, the crowd, the idiotic announcers, the All-Canadian Canadian...and maybe myself a bit as well. It's taking me a while to make it back up to my feet. Once standing, I crouch down, left forearm across my left thigh, pounding my right fist against the canvas. First slowly, then a little faster with each hit I put down on the ring boards as my opponent starts to come back up to her feet as well. Looking to finish her off now as she stands as I step in from behind. My right arm goes over her left arm and across her throat for a reverse headlock, reaching down with my left hand to grab her bottoms at the waist.

LvK: She's going for the CSC! The Chicago Street Cutter! If she hits this, it's good night Canada!

But just before I try to get her off her feet, she grabs the ref with one of her long arms and pulls, having him slam right into me. I'm forced to release my grip on her, the ref stumbles across the ring, so do I, but my stumbling is soon cut off as “Iron” Michelle comes rushing in off the ropes, spins and catches the back of my head HARD with a spinning elbow. Slamming that brace she's got on right against the back of my skull, taking me down hard.

LvK: Oh what the hell?! That's just cheap from Blount!

RP: Cheap? What are you talkin' about? She needs that brace for medical issues!!

LvK: And what about the ref-thing?

RP: Probably...I dunno...medical issues?

Michelle quickly pulls me over to my back, the crowd boos loudly as she looks to steal one here. It's taking the ref a while to find us in the ring. And once he's got us he quickly throws himself down, slapping the canvas.

LvK: Oh no this can't end this way!

RP: ONE! Sure can! TWO! Just watch! Th...

LvK: STARR KICKS OUT! Oh thank god!

RP: Oh no! This can't keep going this way

The crowd lets out a loud, long “TWOOOOOOO!” as Michelle adjusts her arm brace, then goes to argue with the ref. Yelling at him to “Count faster, eh!!” But so un-canadian! She didn't even apologize! Meanwhile I'm left groaning on the canvas, on my right side, and that blow to the back of my head has re-opened the cut I've suffered at First Strike when Callista tripped me. Shaking my head a bit as the blood starts staining my hair a little red back there.

“Fine, I'll finish the damned hoser another way!” She yells out before getting to her feet. Taking two fist fulls of my hair to 'help' me up to my feet. As I get up, my right hand goes to the back of my head, and I feel there's more than sweat back there. Looking at my hand, and I see the blood on my fingertips. “You little bitch...” I growl, then let out a little groan as I take a kick to my belly, doubling me over as the Canadian turns and rushes into the ropes. The ring shakes, boards rumbling and bouncing with each of her heavy steps. Straightening up a bit to see her coming right back at me, looking like a freaking freight train coming my way, with her braced arm pulled back and ready to blow my head off with it.

LvK: Watch out! Here comes the Iron Elbow!

RP: Whoever catches Starr's head wins a Diet Coke sticker

LvK: What was that last part?

RP: ...Nothin!

Blount's got a cocky grin across her lips, pretty sure she's gonna knock my head off and into the 5th row. My hair's fallen over my face, and behind that my eyes are pretty much on fire!! Staring straight into the Canadian's eyes. She made me bleed, and she's gonna PAY! I watch her come at me, and as she swings her arm out, I twist to my side. Catching the arm and dropping down on my hip and side.

RP: What the hell?!

The crowd gasps along with the announcers as I trap Michelle's arm between my legs, then lock my hands, grinding the back of my gloved, right hand against her face as I yank back in a Crippler Crossface.

LvK: Starr countered!! She's got Blount in the Restring!! Middle of the ring! Oh my!

RP: She can't do that!! It's her braced arm! It's injured already! Someone stop this!!

I keep yanking, roaring out loudly in effort as my poor opponent screams out in agony. Clawing at the canvas with her free hand, then my forearm. As soon as she touches it, I press my boots into the canvas, arching myself back further, pulling her up further and putting more strain on that shoulder and neck. It doesn't take very long now until she *TAP TAP TAP*s out and the ref calls for the bell. It's not like I care about that very much right now, though. She made me bleed, she's gonna pay!!

CG: Here's your winner, Lisa Starr!

The crowd cheers as the ref starts giving me a 5-count and I release the hold at 2. Giving the sobbing “Iron” Michelle a dismissive little shove before getting back up to my feet. Having the ref raise my arm in victory as the crowd cheers loudly.

RP: What are they cheering her for? She should be Disqualified! That lil Rockie is getting WAY out of control!

I rub the back of my head as my music blares through the speakers, feeling that the little wound has already stopped bleeding. So it wasn't that bad after all! The ref goes to a knee to take care of the moaning Canadian who's still clutching her shoulder as I climb the ropes again, pumping my right fist into the air once before climbing out of the ring and heading back up the ramp.

RP: Starr cheated! This is a disgrace! She shouldn't be allowed in that ring EVER again!

LvK: Are you serious? Countdown pulls off things WAY worse than keeping a hold locked in a little too long. Don't you remember that Mag-

RP: -nificent offense Callista put on her? Hell yeah, I did! Best thing in wrestling EVER!

LvK: sighs....let's cut to a commercial, before this idiot crawls any deeper into Quinn's derriere.

http://youtu.be/eQ79pCJBcJ8

[The Second City Wrestlerette]

After the ad the screen returns to blonde bombshell in a way too tight and way too short black pinstrip dress and heels, jogging through the backstage are. A microphone in her hand. The camerawork is very unsteady and some gasps and grunts are head from the cameraman (whose looks give the producers every right in the world to hide him BEHIND the camera). They're following a who's wearing her hair in 3 different colors tonight. Platinum blonde, blue and a hint of red on the back.

Anna Ruethli, a Swiss-born hottie is the one who replaced the old interviewer a few weeks ago after she's been taken through that locker room door by the Purple Punk. She's got that cute germanic-sounding accent with that even cuter sound these swiss make whenever they say a K or H. You know what I mean? Ending each of those K's as if she was about to throw up? Anyways...

AR: Miss Starr! Miss....Miss Starr!

She waves at the cameraman to go faster, wanting to get closer because I "can't hear her"...actually I'm just pretty good at ignoring people. I learned that while sharing a place with Gemma.

"Miss....Miss Starr! Lisa! Do you have a moment? Please?"

I keep walking, I'm almost at my locker room, when suddenly that girl stands right next to me. I stop, head lowered a bit, just moving my eyes to glare straight into hers, back still turned to the camera as she starts, sounding a little out of breath after that spring

"You must have not heard me! I'm An..."

"I heard you" Is all I bitterly spit back at her as the cameraman closes in behind us. She looks at me a little flustered "And I know who you are. What I DON'T know, is what you want from me" I growl. Ever since I've had that match taken from me by Callista and her Mag-Lite I've been kinda...let's say...tense?

She looks at me through those big, brown deer-like eyes, looking stunned after I snapped back at her like that. She finally scrambles up a few pieces of the courage she just dropped all over the floor "I...wanted to congratulate you on your first victory in FTW and...what does it feel like?"

"What it feels like?" I turn to face her, then look into the camera, shaking my head a bit before looking back at her, taking her hand with the mic, leading it towards my lips "Feels good! But you know what? It would've felt better at First Strike! But that win was robbed from me! Stolen by Quinn, stolen by Countdown, just like they stole my debut!" I take the mic out of her hand and turn to the camera. "And someone paied for that tonight!"

"What you saw out there was nothing but practice for me. Practice for the real deal! Quinn, if you think I'm done with you, you're wrong. Very wrong! I'm the Future of this company. I'm the future of this business and nothing can stop me from reaching the top! Not you, not Rox, not Megan, not Red! The Mag-Lite slowed me down, but I will NEVER come to a stop. And just for your information, the next time I see one of you, I'll kick this boot so far down your throat, pe..." in that moment the cute blond takes the mic from my hands and shakes her head at me a little. "Please watch your language while I'm on the air!" "Heh..." I smirk, then give her a soft little backhanded smack to her chest. "Courage, huh? Nice! I started to think all girls here are spineless t*BEEP*"

After receiving an almost stern look from Anna she tries to continue the interview "So, after this impressive win over the bigger "Iron" Michelle Blount, what's next on the Agenda for Lisa Starr?"

"Yeah, it was kinda impressive, huh?" A little grin comes across my lips as I rub the back of my head with my right hand. "I mean, she's like what...50 pounds more than I am? Still tossed her around like a rag doll! And that goes to show you, that I'm much tougher than I look. I've said it before, I'll say it again. I'm here to stay, I'm gonna rules this place! Because I am th Best..." "OMG LISA?!" "...oh f*BEEP*! Cut! Cut, stop this! Turn the cam off!" A worried looking tall girl comes rushing in from the side, her blonde hair with that hint of a strawberry red tone in it comes in and starts fingering around on the back of my head while I got a very annoyed look on my face.

"Are you bleeding? What the hell?!" "It's Okay, Sunny. It stopped already" "No, it's not!! I told you to be careful out there! And...Jeans? Really? Just what do ya think this is? Some kinda ECW/ROH Mikey Whipwreck Crossover revival show?!"

Anna looks confused for a few moments after that babbling before becoming professional again. "And here's another interesting interview partner! Welcome to FTW, Lindsay! You have a big match coming up later tonight against Sadie. Any words for her?"

Lindsay lifts her head and looks into the camera. "Ehm...nooooooooooooo? No time now! Later!" "Stop filming right now!" "Lemme look at that, Lisa" "It's ALRIGHT, damn it!" I sigh and roll my eyes "Let's at least get away from here?" I say as I just head off towards my locker room again. The camera stays on it as Lindsay follows me with steps that are way too small and fast for a girl whose legs are so long. She keeps babbling on about "safety.......dangerous.......concussion.....trauma...." while I just stomp along the hall looking more annoyed than angry right now. Hands in the front pockets of my jeans. Just kicking the door open before disappearing inside with the yapping Lindsay right behind me.

[The BIG E]

The whole arenas lights suddenly switch off, causing people to feel unease and anxious. Static suddenly appears on the titan tron, cutting out a bit until the last few, you see a silhouette face as it cuts before going dark again.

"Saviours? Saviours." 

The quite posh, Etonian accent sounds throughout the arena.

A couple of lights suddenly point around the scaffolding area where some of the cameras are. The majority of the audience turn their heads and look up and then a majority gasps, shouts in shock while a few cheers in excitement.

The lights point to me, leaning on the frame a bit, my tall frame dressed my Black Trenchcoat that covers the White Nike Long Sleeved Compression Shirt, Black Demin Jeans and Shoes, the brim of the Black Cap creating a shadow that covers most of my face from the mass of people. The Mic being held in my right hand.

"Being saved is not what this industry and the people need. And it certainly isn't what they want."

Straightening up a bit, the frames being relived from my weight. Not that it was much anyways.

"Many wackos and nutjobs has been trying to "save this industry" for more than a century.." 

I quickly raise my left index finger out to the crowd.

"...And it has not worked one time!!"

A few people start to cheer a bit. More than from the beginning. I start to pace one way a few steps to my left, looking on at the masses, the shadow still concealing my face, Mic still in hand.

"These idiots do not have the most basic building blocks to support these little crusades to. Little things like 'We got to be tolerant to those that disagree with us'. Things like 'We got to be tolerant to those that worship a different god than us'. Or that a journalist is to be able to disagree with the president!"

I then briskly walk towards the nearest camera to my right.

"Let me ask you this. You people think that you can just march into a country based on some fundamentalist religious principles, drop a few bombs, topple a dictator and start a democracy!?"

I pause for two seconds and turn away from the camera, walking back to my original point where I was standing before.

"*scoffs* Give me a break!"

"People do not want freedom. They want boundaries, rules, protection. From invaders and from themselves. People need a leader who can give the support and the constraints to keep chaos at bay. You give them that, and they will follow....."

I then take off the Black cap that had concealed my identity, showing my true self. Letting the people see my face and let it burn in their retinas.

A little smirk forms on my lips.

"......And that's where I come in."

"I have been living in the shadows for too long now. It is time for me to step out of the darkness and into the spotlight. Oh and I would need to mention that I will be the special commentator for the main event."

I chuckle a bit before looking at the cheering majority of people.

"Well I guess you can say...it is my time now."

It suddenly goes dark again for only a few seconds. Then, all the lights come back on and I am not there any more. Gone, vanished, dissapeared. But the crowd knows very well that they are gonna see me again very soon.

[ThePurpleVixen]

IS YOUR DOG ON FIRE RIGHT NOW?

Short Chuck Jones animation of a wide-eyed cartoon bulldog racing through a living room, trailing flames.

Cut to a serious man in a suit in front of a series of pie charts.  It is Clancy Brown.

Did you know that there are over 83.3 million pet dogs in the United States?  Did you know that 47% of households own at least one dog?

And did you know that in over 1 million of those homes, a dog is on fire right now?

Clancy taps a pie chart, which is all bright red and labelled "DOGS ON FIRE RIGHT NOW". Underneath it says "1 million."

But that's where Azagthoth Insurance can help.

We provide flaming dog insurance to millions of homeowners across America, so if you suffer the heartbreak of a dog fire ...

Image of sad kids in front of a smoldering heap of ash with a collar that says "Checkers".

... we can get you the money you need for a funeral, for clean-up, for counseling, and a new dog.

Clancy picks up a small box of puppies, each wearing a festive ribbon and looking into the camera with wide puppy eyes.  The box is labelled "NOT FOR BURNING."  He sets it down, and looks intently into the camera.

Azagthoth Insurance.  Because your dog is probably on fire right now.

[Rowan Chance]

We have the best commercials.

[Lindsay C]

The screen fades in to a camera in the corridors of the arena. I'm walking towards the screen, a white towel over my left shoulder, a small bottle of water in the right hand and a smile across my lips. Wearing a gray THE Ohio State University t-shirt and a pair of tight, blue Lycra shorts with a red dragon climbing up the right hip. Feet covered by gray and red NIKE sneakers with matching socks peeking up over the ankles. Nodding at the camera on my way past „Care to join me?“

On our way through the halls I take a sip from the water, then look into the camera.
„Hi! I'm Lindsay, and I'm SUPER happy I'm here! I remember what my friends told me when I joined the Greater Ohio Wrestling League. Things like „Are you crazy?“ or „This is nothing for you!“ or „They go kick yo ass, girl!“. And now I'm here! Getting my first shot at FTW!“ I stop, turn and grab the camera at the sides, getting my face right in front of it. „CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!“

Letting out a little giggle as I continue. Reaching the door to the little gym set up in the arena. Holding the door open for the cameraman before stepping in myself. Starting to stretch a little.
„I heard the words from my opponent tonight and...Sadie! I think I might have to have a few words with you! For example, I don't think it's okay you heard a lot of things about me, while I heard almost nothing about you! That's not fair! But anyways...“

Starting to work with a jump rope „You say you don't like good girls? That's a shame, because I'm the best good girl you'll find! Now, I'm not here to sell cookies, you see? I do serve beatings, though. And don't worry about not fitting in anywhere, sweety. Because this adorable mid-westerner here can totally help you fit into a tidy little box. I'll just fold you up real nice until you fit right in! And about that teensy-tiny scorpion you got upstairs? That one will be de-tailed by the Dragon!”

Tossing the jump rope into a corner of the room before taking a deep breath and closing in on the camera. “And I'll also teach you not to curse in public, Sadie Davis. I'll teach you lots of things! And after I'm done with you, I'm going to stride on and on, right towards that FTW Heavyweight Championship! And now...”

Giving the lens of the camera a kiss before backing up and walking towards the treadmill. “...if you'll excuse me, please? I'm trying to get myself ready for the match. Ta ta!”

The cameraman steps back towards the door and the picture fades out with me taking a light jog on the treadmill. Giving the camera a last wave, smile and a wink as my blonde hair bounces on my shoulders...

[Rowan Chance]

Camera cuts back to the announce desk where LvK and RP look, wide-eyed, at their monitors.

LvK: Well, that was...

RP: Hey, can I be the guest announcer next show?

(Pause)

LvK: You know, I have to be honest. I was thinking the exact same thing, partner.

RP: Let's not make a habit out of this, okay?

LvK: (looking back at the camera) Ladies and gentlemen, as you know, we have a tournament for the FTW World Title, and one of the wrestlers who was definitely on the list for that tournament was Rowan Chance.

RP: The woman who makes your psycho ex-girlfriend look like Mother Theresa.

LvK: (eyeing RP for a moment, then turning back to the camera) But when FTW officials tried contacting her, instead of getting a response about the tournament, they got this instead. Check it out...


CAMERA cuts to a dark screen. A shadowy room lit by a thousand candles. In the center of the room sits a woman with her head down, her hair falling in front of her face. Her long, black/brown hair sways gently.

The shadows cling to her, helping her long hair hide what might be her naked body.

For a moment, there's only silence. Then, a voice. A woman's voice.

But not Rowan's voice.

"Be careful what you wish for," she says. She does not look up. Her breath brushes against the hair hiding her face. "Isn't that how the cliche goes?"

She laughs like autumn branches, stripped of leaves, scraping on the window.

"You wanted Rowan gone," she says.



The camera FLASHES to a black and white shot of Rowan being broken by the Stroke of Midnight, caught between Punky's powerbomb and Gemma's backstabber. Then, comes back to the candle-lit room.



"Well," she says, her voice lilting. "You got your wish."

She raises one naked arm, waving something away. "She's gone now."



The camera flashes again, Rowan lying broken on the mat, Punky flipping her over for the pin. Then, back to the room.



"Gone, gone, gone."



The camera flashes again, the Countdown standing over her broken body. Then, back to the room.




"And someone... something else... has taken her place."



The camera flashes to what appears to be a ring in a Japanese promotion. A woman in a mask has another wrestler trapped in some kind of elaborate leg lock. The camera's cuts are so fast, details are hard to catch.



The woman in the candles starts slowly shaking her head, back and forth.

"Something... dangerous..."



Back to the Japanese match: the masked woman grabs her opponent's leg and TWISTS it. The sound of a dry tree branch breaking echoes from the screen.



"Something... relentless..."



Another match with barbed wire around the ring. The same masked female wrestler stands in the middle, her opponent in a front face lock. Between her legs is a small, paper box. The masked wrestler raises one arm, then locks on a cradle DDT, bringing both of them toward the mat. And when they hit, the box explodes.




"Something... merciless..."



The word "ONI" flashes on the screen, followed by the word "AIKA."

Then, we see the masked woman standing behind another wrestler, the masked woman wrapping a chain around the other woman's throat. The other wrestler's face is turning purple, her tongue hanging out, her hands limply slapping at the chain. The ref tries to break the hold, but the masked woman only laughs, her face turned to the sky.



In that little room, lit only by candles, the masked woman stops moving. She raises her head. Through her thick, wet hair, you can see the mask.

"And that something... is me."

Under her mask, a smile curls up. A smile as sharp as a razor. Then, she puts two fingers against her throat... and spits a vicious red mist at the camera.



SMASH CUT TO BLACK.


The camera cuts back to LvK and RP looking at their monitors with a stunned silence.

 
RP: I take back everything I've ever said about Rowan Chance. She's a sweet, generous and charitable woman who has nothing but kindness in her heart.

LvK: Ladies and gentlemen... um... we'll be right back...

[RedEnforcer]

LvK:  Well after that rather...

RP: Crazed? Insane? Off her rocker?

LvK: Ominous interview with Rowan Chance, (your mic is hot by the way) we return to action in the ring.

RP: Oh yeah and these two lovelies I'm sure will be bringing glory to the Mulkey name.

LvK: Rick, you know these cousins are debuting tonight...

RP: And being fed to a seasoned veteran.  Right now what I wouldn't give for these two to be kissing cousins! Look at 'em Larry! They are smokin' hot!

LvK: Will you stop!  It's demeaning for you to talk about women competitors like that.

RP: Competitors? Well these two can certainly put the "ti---"

LvK: Enough! To the ring announcer...PLEASE...*grumbling* stupid guy is going to get us sued...

RP: But look at the racks...*mic cuts out*


CG: The next match is a single's match. One fall with a 10 minute time limit. First, already in the ring accompanied by her cousin, Billie....at 5'10 and 125 lbs from Anderson, South Carolina, Randi MULKEY!!!!!!

The taller of almost twin look alike platinum blondes raises her hands excitedly and waves to a polite and appreciative crowd.  She's wearing a dark blue one piece suit with the left side cut out almost to her mid-abs with MULKEY spelled out on the right side of her suit perpendicular to her ribs.  Her cousing Billie is a couple of inches shorter, but wearing a matching suit and boots as Randi.  Both look very excited and happy to be starting off their career in wrestling in the brand new FTW alliance.  They also are stunning with a clear resemblance to

RP: ...Kelly Kelly.  Oh my mic is back on. Thanks guys! I know we're PG. Sheesh. I wasn't going to say anything about the Total Nonstop Action these two new girls are bringing to the ring.  Man.  But you have to agree with me Larry, they do look like sisters of Kelly Kelly more than they do their Mulkeymania fathers.

LvK: And I think everyone is glad of that. But tonight they face the muscle of the Countdown organization who is well known to not play nice with opponents, male or female.

RP: So the Enforcer is going to be figuratively popping *mic cuts out*


CG: And her opponent, accompanied by fellow Countdown member, Punky!  From Parts Unknown, coming in tonight at 5'11 and 190lbs..THE RED ENFORRRRRRRRRCCCCEEEERRRRRRRRRR


RP: Is Chucky into that announcement because he likes Red or is worried he'll make him crap his pants?


The lights dim and the opening strains of Simon Says by Pharoahe Monch https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IcKvMQoyb9g  play with that familiar beat and roar from the original Godzilla movie announcing to the crowd that the monster is coming.  I walk out and stand on the stage, looking at my opponent and her cousin in the ring..  Punky is beside me and carrying a chair clearly marked by the spray painted word RAID which appears to be the chair she had grabbed earlier.  I slowly walk from the stage and ignore the booing fans completely. I never lose eye contact with my opponent and watch her slowly go from excited joy to slow apprehension to clear fear at what's coming next for her complete with a dramatic gulp.  I ascend the steps and grab the top rope, scraping my boots off on the apron old school style as I was taught many years ago.  I slip into the ropes and rub my black wrist tape.  I'm wearing simple black trunks with COUNTDOWN in red instead of my normal ENFORCER script.  Black boots and knee pads as well.  I just stand there waiting as the ref checks us and then the bell rings.

Randi is getting last minute coaching from Billie, who's on the apron and that's the first rookie mistake.  I rush Randi and drive my body into hers and flatten her into the corner while also knocking Billie off the apron and hard onto the floor.  Before the ref even gets over to me, I am pounding hard forearms into Randi's sternum, over and over again.

RP: There's a shortage of perfect breasts in the world, Red! Don't ruin one set!

LvK: Do you want me telling him you were cheering against him?

RP: Swing away, Red! Swing away!

The ref gets there and pulls me off. I shrug and put my hands on the middle ropes, pulling myself forward and just burying my shoulder into poor Randi's belly.  The blonde crumples over and lays on my back until I drive forward again and ram her into the corner.  The crowd ooos as I keep up the punishment. The ref starts counting and I slam Randi into the corner in time with his counts. "One...Ooof"  "Two...Unnggg"  "Three...Auuughhh"  "Four...Oooooo" and I pull up. The ref yells at me and I look at him and say very loudly, holding up one hand, palm out, "I've got till Five!"  I then grab her wrist, seeing that the only thing holding her up is the corner, and then whip her hard into the opposite corner. I watch her with a big grin, remembering doing spars and training with her father and uncle.  I see her staggering out and I wind up my right arm and rush her.  My arm catches her right in the neck and Randi flies up in the air and does a flip and lands hard chest first to the mat.  I use the toe of my boot and flip her over and lazily lay across her chest as the ref rushes to deliver the count. 

LvK: Just pure brutality so far by the Enforcer tonight.

RP: He's obviously sending a message Larry.

LvK: What would that be Rick?

RP: Don't F*BEEP* with Countdown.

LvK: And here's a pin attempt. 1..2...and..he pulls her up.  He could have had her, but he just pulled her up.

RP: He's not done with her yet Larry.

I slowly drag Randi back up to her feet. She's swaying limply, pretty much only upright because I'm holding her up. I move my face into hers and say "Looks like you drew the short straw tonight Rookie.  Welcome to the FTW. I hope you survive the experience."  With the last bit of her strength, Randi pulls her hand back and slaps me right in the face with a loud SMACK that echoes in the arena.  The crowd cheers, but that doesn't last long as I grab her tights with one hand, hair with the other and toss her out of the ring.  She flies right between the top and middle rope and lands in a solid heap right next to Punky.  The ref comes over to me and I hold my hands up in surrender, arguing with him and slowly walking him back to the opposite corner.


to be continued

[ThePurpleVixen]

I'm out here to keep an eye out for Rowan, and to show some solidarity for the Countdown for Red's first singles match under our banner, and to make sure Rowan doesn't pop up, and to intimidate the locker room, and to watch for Rowan to show her face so I can bash it in.

Fuckin' spiders, always showing up when you think you've squashed them.

I'm proud of the spray paint job I did on the chair with just the supplies I had on me - a black chevron with the old yellow RAID logo stencilled over it adorns the cheap blue paint of the steel seat.

RAID.  Kills bugs dead.

I unfold the chair with a CLANK and take a deliberate seat in it just outside Red's corner as the Enforcer rushes across the ring to unload on the unfortunate Mulkey cousins - god damn, who did their ugly-ass daddies knock up to get those genes cooking?  I grin as Red goes to town, his brutality and ferocity pleasantly distracting me from the concerns of the day.

Eventually, pretty blonde Randi gets tossed through the ropes like yesterday's Brunswick stew and ends up splatted on the concrete next to me.  Billie, recovered from her unexpected stage dive off the apron, comes racing around to protect her cousin's honor. I flick my dark eyes just once at Red, seeing that he's got the referee's full attention with an arcane dicussion of the specialized rules for masked wrestlers as established under the Santo Treaty.

"You keep away from her!" Billie warns me with all the ferocity a rookie who looks like she models for Banana Republic can muster.

I hold my hands up innocently, the zippers and chrome dangles on my big leather jacket clinking.  "Hey, doll, I was just gonna check to make sure Red didn't hurt her.  The big guy's gone crazy! NO idea what's wrong with that masked bastard!"  I sound positively AFFRONTED ... but as good an actress as I am, I'm still a little insulted when Billie turns away from me to go to one knee and check on Randi. Fuckin' kids. It's like they've never seen me on TV before.

RP: Have the Mulkey beauties not SEEN Punky in action before?  Do they not get cable in the deep South?

LvK: I feel like Megan Dow is about to offer an important lesson in trust.

RP: Yeah. Trust Punky to remind you not to turn your back on her.

I stand up smoothly, a quick glance making sure that the ref is checking Red's mask lacings at the big Enforcer's behest, and I snap my RAID chair shut as silently as an assassin screwing on a silencer.  A big heavy swing across the back is everyone's go-to with steel chairs, but that makes a loud NOISE. 

I instead wrap my hands around the closed legs and drive the rounded steel upper edge right into the small of Billie's back, making her arch up in silent agony, and then I casually reverse my grip and twist my hips to drive the same edge into the back of her skull with a sound like an aluminum baseball bat pulping a cantaloupe.  Her eyes roll up and she flops across her cousin Randi, whose legs kick up comically for a moment before dropping back to the concrete.  I set my chair back down neatly, clacking it open, and lean down to scoop up dear Billie Mulkey by that luxuriant blonde hair and a handful of suit that wedges sweetly between her peachy buns, rolling her under the bottom rope.  I resume my seat, folding my arms casually under my chest, and slouching back as I shove the half-conscious Randi Mulkey under the ring apron with one boot.

RP: It was nice of Punky to help Randi get back in the ring.

LvK: That's not RANDI!  Dow brutally attacked BILLIE Mulkey and put HER in the ring with the Red Enforcer!

RP: C'mon now, van Keel.  You've gotta lay off these crazy conspiracy theories. I only see one Mulkey out here.

LvK: WHAT?!  WHAT ARE YOU TAL- THEN WHERE DID THE OTHER ONE GO, RICK?!

RP: Probably had a mani-pedi.

LvK: ...

RP: That reminds me, I've got one tomorrow!  Gotta set a reminder.

[RedEnforcer]

I keep arguing with the ref and looking over his blind spot to see what my buddy Punky is doing.  It takes almost all of my reserve to keep from wincing at the nasty chairshot she gives Billie.  That poor girl collapses faster than a politician's campaign promises.  And as Punky tosses her into the ring, I think I need to thank those girls for wearing the matching suits, especially since the wedgie Punky's given her really emphasizes the ample curve of Billie's cheeks.  I take Billie quickly so the ref doesn't realize what's going on and haul her to her feet. I can see she's still in pain and groggy and is trying to tell me something. "W..wait..no..I'm..." "I know" I tell her as I press her body back into the ropes and then launch her to the opposite side. She hits the ropes at speed and flies back at me.When she comes at me, I set my feet apart and lean into her, wrapping my arms around her waist.  These Mulkey girls are soft and pleasant and Billie molds herself against me as I lift her up.  "Wait...please!!!" I ignore her cries and let her momentum push me back as I lift her up and spin quickly with her and slamming her body down hard into the mat with my Enforcer spinebuster!  I move in for a pin, my weight over hers and noticing she's a bit softer and curvier than her cousin.  One..two..and I pull her up this time.  The ref gets in my face and I drag Billie up to her feet. She sways like an understuffed ragdoll as she hangs there.  I grab her hair with one hand, her suit with the other and toss her back out of the ring towards Punky.

RP: Such a nice guy, letting Randi take a break like that!

LvK: That's Billie!

RP: Whatever!

[ThePurpleVixen]

I snort with laughter when I overhear Red going all Han Solo on the confused young Mulkey before he AA's her so hard that she ends up two inches shorter.  Then Billie is tossed out like a busty sack of wet laundry to thud to the mats next to me - Red's got really good aim - and I casually glance into the ring to find that Red is now intentionally drawing out the ref's ire about the broken pinfall.

It's a discussion I've had myself, many times.  Referees just don't seem to GET why you'd pull someone up at 2.  It's like they have no sense of drama.

Billie looks distracted by her own agony for now, but Randi is stirring, gradually crawling out from under the ring.  I need to tranquilize her quickly, so I'm up on my boots and bending down to lace my arms under hers, hooking my fingers at the nape of her neck and yanking her to her feet.

"Ahh!  Wha- what're you doing?  Billie?!" Even bent over in a painful double underhook, Randi can apparently sense the distress her cousin is in through their mystic bond.  Also she can see Billie laying there groaning on the mats just in front of her.

I lock those arms up tight, taking a brief but poignant look at Randi's lovely but slim butt.

"Do you know your cousin has a nicer *BEEP*ing ass than you?"

"I ... y- .. wh-WHAT?"

"Work on that," I offer as sage advice before I bend my knees low and THRUST up and back, yanking the slender blonde up off her feet and falling back to plant her pretty face into the mats with a Double Arm DDT, landing with a distinct THUD that fortunately stops Randi's sudden bout of self-conscious body image questioning and just leaves her with her leg twitching like a crushed katydid.

LvK: THIS IS RIDICULOUS!

RP: I know!  I'm seeing double! These Mulkey girls are DEVIOUS!

LvK: ... WHAT?!

RP: The ref's GOTTA keep better track of these girls!  They're pulling all sorts of Killer Bees mischief here!

LvK: They're BOTH UNCONSCIOUS, Rick!

RP: So were the Killer Bees, most of the time.

I take her hair and suit, yanking both taut as I drag the deadweight Mulkey to her feet - you know, on second look, I think her slimmer, trimmer ass actually does look nicer; I should apologize when she wakes up - and roughly roll her under the ropes to flop over on the canvas.

I bend over and haul Billie to her feet and take a good firm grip on her hair and suit again - "Owww, my gorgeous ass," she murmurs half-consciously - and then just before the ref can turn around I take a running start and SWING from the hips, skidding to my knees as I hurl Billie under the ring.  She disappears under the apron and slides far enough below that I hear the clatter of the kendo sticks every wrestling promotion stores under the ring (I assume to help tighten the ropes if they come loose).

The referee approaches the ropes as Red scoops Randi's wreckage off the canvas and glares suspiciously down at me as I resume my seat in my spray-painted chair, keeping a weather eye out for Black Widows.

"Wasn't there another girl out here?"

"Nobody here but us *BEEP*ing chickens," I grin up at him.

He peers around and starts to turn back to the match, then hears the faint clatter of a folded table moving under the ring and a soft hollow groan, and glowers at me.

"What was THAT?"

I look back at him with wide innocent dark eyes and splay my hands out.

"*BEEP*ing leprechauns," I tell him earnestly, glaring at the ring apron to make sure it doesn't stir.  "They're all trying to get on TV since *BEEP*ing Hornswoggle hit it big."

He grunts and appears dubious, but then is fortunately distracted by violence.

[RedEnforcer]

I see Punky return Randi to me and notice she was taking an awfully long time staring at Randi's ass.  I never can tell what Punky's type is.  Some days I think it's a slender, mixed race hottie with a nice ass, other days it seems like it's a short, tattooed up pale Englishwoman and some days it seem like it's heavily tattooed Straight Edge living Walking Dead enthusiasts.  I do happen to agree with Punky in one sense, these Mulkey gals have fine asses.  I grab Randi by her platinum blonde hair and raise her up.  She sways as sexily as her cousin and just as bonelessly.  She may not have the same curves, but she is one nicely fit woman.  Shit I better do something awful quickly or Sadie'll kill me!

RP: You know, he could just hold her there for the rest of the time limit. It's a lovely moon out tonight.

LvK: *audibly buries his hands in his face* Are you still in middle school?

RP: No, you're getting me confused with Lawler.

While holding her hair up with my hands, I fire off a sharp knee to Randi's belly.  She gags audibly and I let her fold over.  The crowd behind her takes more pictures, adding to my rep of having the most Instagrammed and Flickred matches of all time.  Punky helped out this time with the brutal wedgie that has hit near Cuban levels of tightness.  I release Randi's hair and she leans forward, her forehead pressing against my abs and the only reason she's still upright.  My hands go for her wrists and I cross them in front of her.

RP: WEATHER ALERT! HURRICANE HUGO'S ABOUT TO STRIKE AGAIN!!!

With a grunt I lift my weary, aching opponent up in the air into a perfect straightjacket powerbomb position.  I keep her up on my shoulders for a moment and do a quick spin with her.  I notice that more than just her sweat has dampened her suit and then drive her back and shoulders solidly down into the mat.  I go for another cover, lying atop her with a serious determination and my forearm forcing her face to the side.  The ref drops down, confident I'm finished toying with Randi.  One...two...and I pull her up again.

LvK: I just don't understand this. It's obvious Randi is out on her feet and the Enforcer is just toying with her mercilessly.  This FTW crowd is really showing their disgust with loud cascades of boos.

RP: Well, I don't think the Enforcer really cares. Look! He's lifting her up again!

WHAMMMMMMMMMMM

LvK: Another brutal, brutal Hurricane Hugo Bomb for the young rookie. Somebody stop the damn match!

RP: Now you're getting yourself confused with JR.

Without even faking another pin, I haul Randi up again and set her up for my deadly finisher. I know Rowan is watching and I want to make sure she gets the message crystal clearly.  I haul Randi back up into powerbomb position and a very distinct aroma fills my nostrils. I chuckle and say only loud enough for the barely conscious rookie to hear "Looks like you and Ms. Chance have more in common than I thought.  You're going to love this."  I do another spin and hammer the poor girl's back and shoulders into the mat.  Again I haul her up but she can't even stand.  I drag her over to one of the ringside cameramen who's on the apron and look dead at his camera.  "I know you can see me. Watch closely Rowan!  You're next!"  I spin Randi around so she is facing away from me and push her towards the center of the ring. She staggers worse than my Irish uncle on the street after last call.   My arms slide up under her arms and my fingers interlace behind her neck.

LvK:  Looks like he's going for his submission hold, Red Reign!

RP: We go swingin' on Friday nights Larry!


With a grunt, I lift Randi's beaten body up into the air and lock on the full nelson.  My arms clamp down tight on her body as my hands force her head and neck down.  My biceps flexing madly as I lift her up in the air and start swinging her around in circles.  Her limbs thrash about wildly with every motion I make.  The ref is asking if she submits, but she doesn't answer.  He goes in to check if she's still conscious, but I keep swinging her away.  Finally I dump my opponent unceremoniously to the mat like a pile of trash.  I motion over to Punky and call for Billie.  Punky shrugs and reaches under the apron and starts dragging Billie out from under the ring.  Once she's clear of the apron, Punky spins her to face the ring and lean against the ring.  Punky grips the back of her suit and jerks up with a noticeable pause as she smiles and lets her gaze linger on Billie's ass cheeks.  Before I can yell at her, Punky sends Billie into the ring.  I haul her up by her hair as well. 

"Please...no...it..it hurts....please...I'm not even...in..this match..."

"I know, but a message needs to be sent." I put my hand in my kneepad and pull something out.  I move my hand over near the opening in the side of Billie's suit and slip in a business card, whispering to her, "You have potential. So does your sister.  But you need a better trainer. I have a gym. Come visit."

I then punctuate my point by driving a vicious knee into Billie's belly.  She doubles over and I cross her arms in front of her.  She knows what's coming, bless her heart and she tries to pull her arms free. But I have her.  I grunt and lift her up into position.  The whole time she is fighting me and I don't notice anything like I did with Randi.  Good, she has fight.  She could go far. I turn so that I'm standing over Randi and I give Billie an extra lift.

"Noooooo....please....Nooooooooooooooo" WHUMPPPPPPPPP

Billie is driven down into Randi's belly causing Randi's limbs to fly up in a sort of V shape before falling back to the mat.  Billie is groaning and trying to protect herself.  I look down at the Mulkey Cross I've made and smile wickedly.  I press my boot right in Billie's sternum and yell at the ref. "Count you sonuva*BEEP*" He drops down and counts. I stand there smiling wickedly at the camera as I make a triumphant pose over my victims. 

LvK: A completely dominant victory for the Enforcer.  He's really looking to send a..hey..what..what are you *hisssss...pop*

Red: Yeah, is this thing on? *huff huff*  See that? I want everyone to take a real good look at the remains in the ring.  That is what happens if you stand in Countdown's way.  And Rowan, I don't care what kinda crazy stuff you're talking now, but I'm coming to Phoenix. *huff huff*  That's right I'm coming to your home fed to take care of Countdown's light work.  Tell 'em Punky!

[ThePurpleVixen]

After a last appreciative glance at the heap of Mulkeys in the ring, I slither up onto the announce table, sitting cross-legged on it and facing Rick Perle as Red snatches van Keel's headset off him.

"Precious," I purr.  "Gimme that."

"Yes ma'am Punky ma'am would you also like some Diet Coke I'm sorry we don't have Diet Pepsi-" he rattles off at the speed of terror.

"No, Precious, just the cans for now." I slide them over my head and turn to the camera, grinning brightly.

"Heya, FTW.  What you just saw in that ring was what the Countdown would call a Public *BEEP*ing Service Announcement.  You get in front of us, and we will *BEEP*ing run you down.  You stand up up to us, and we will *BEEP*ing beat you down.  You open your mouth to us, and we will *BEEP*ing *BEEP* it."

I level a finger at the camera.

"Like I *BEEP*ing said: smarten the *BEEP* up and stay the *BEEP* down."

I look briefly at my fists, then level them at Rick, who flinches.

"Do you think I should get STAY DOWN tattooed on my knuckles?"

Before he can answer, I shake my head.

"No, you're right. That'd be *BEEP*ing stupid."

I slide off the table and grin into the camera at close range.

"This message has been brought to you by the *BEEP*ing Countdown.  Time's up, mother*BEEP*ers.  Let's go, Reddy Kilowatt."

As we leave, there's the thump of headphones hitting the table, and then an incensed van Keel comes back over the airwaves.

LvK: Get those THUGS out of here!  Someone has to DO something about this!  I'm a damn broadcast journalist, and I'm not paid for masked goons to ... to ... what are you DOING, Rick?

RP: Punky's shampoo smells good.  *snuffle*

LvK: For the love of God.

RP: I think it's Suave coconut.

[Callista]

Back in the Spartan comforts of the Countdown locker room, (there was a budget for decorations and luxury, but we blew it on booze,) I'm seated on one of the benches, nodding at Gemma, “Thanks for letting me know. I appreciate it,” when there's a knock at the door. “IT'S OPEN!” I call, figuring it to be our compatriots. “Red didn't waste any time,” I comment, only to have my assumption proven wrong when a blonde woman in a tight black dress walks in, followed by Danny Cannon, one of FTW's underpaid cameramen, (no union labour here!)

Standing up, still wearing the white t-shirt and black denim trousers I was earlier, I say, “Just because you've got a nice pair of legs, doesn't mean you're immune from the rules. Either bring beer for Countdown or accept you're on foreign soil in here and WE decide what sort of condition you're in when you walk out.” Seriously, did this girl not SEE what Megan did to the last one? “Your grace period ends in five...four...”

The woman declines to take the hint, (more properly, the thinly-veiled threat,) and says in a Teutonic accent, “What I bring is a message from the FTW Commissioner. The tournament will be limited to four persons, and Countdown will not monopolise all four entries.”

At this point, the door is kicked open by Megan, (I should have known she wouldn't knock,) giving Danny the cameraman a tremendous fright, and she's followed in, laughing, by the Red Enforcer. I don't insult the man by asking him who won the match. I gesture for the blonde woman to continue. She seems a bit nonplussed, but she does so. “The Commissioner will grant you two spots to go to the Countdown members whom you feel are the strongest competitors.”

Gemma takes a step towards the Swiss woman, a dangerous look in her eyes, “Listen *BEEP*,” she begins, but I put a hand on her shoulder.

Gemma looks at me, briefly confused, and I laugh. “Do you believe that our beloved Commissioner is trying to play mind games with US?” Megan is looking as dangerous as Gemma right now. Red is, as usual, harder to read behind his mask. I continue, pacing a slow circle around the Countdown locker room. “Choose the two strongest, she says. So I will of course choose myself, because I'm clearly that egotistical, and then I'll pick one of you three, insulting the other two. And then, someone will come up to the other one I've picked and imply that he or she was actually picked because I felt they were LESS of a threat.”

I stop in front of the interviewer, the smile vanishing off my face as I lean down to look her in the eye. “Not gonna happen. Danny, give me a quarter.” Danny's camera doesn't move, but behind it, his face shows consternation. “You've got quarters in your wallet because you always buy a Twix from the vending machine and that thing hasn't accepted dollar bills since Clinton was President. Get one out of your wallet ya fat bastard and give it to me and you'll walk out of this locker room with no health issues other than your hypertension and high cholesterol. Understand?”

Gemma looks at me and says, “Seriously, how do you KNOW this *BEEP*?” shaking her head.

The camera has a very interesting shot of Anna Ruethli's shoes for a second, while Danny coughs up the quarter. I check the coin before holding it up to the camera, showing both sides to be that of a normal American 25-cent piece. I tuck my thumb inside my index figure and set the coin heads-up on my thumb. “Megan versus Gemma. Gemma, call it in the air.”

I flip the coin upwards, watching it carefully as Gemma says “Heads!” It lands in the middle of my right palm, and as I lift that palm, I catch a glimpse of George Washington's profile before smacking my palm against the back of my left hand. I lift my right hand up, showing the eagle from the reverse side of the coin.

“Tails,” I say, holding the hand out for both Gemma and Megan to see.

“*BEEP*” says Gemma, scowling.

“*BEEP* yeah!” says Megan at the same time.

I look to the blonde interviewer and the tubby cameraman and say, “One of Countdown's representatives in the FTW Heavyweight tournament will be Punky Megan Dow.” Looking to the other member of our quartet, I say, “Right, Red. You or me. Call it in the air,” I say, flipping again.

“Heads,” Red says, and I again catch it in my right hand, this time around the fingers. As I lift my right hand up, I catch a glimpse of the eagle, so as I arc my hand around, my fingers curl, pressing the coin to my palm, uncurling just as my palm smacks up against the back of my left hand. I draw my right hand back, and the eagle is again looking upward.

I show the coin to Red and say “Tails”, who sets his teeth but says nothing, before turning my attention to the two interlopers once again. “The second will be me. You want to put up two sacrificial lambs against the Countdown? Fine, but don't for one *BEEP*ing second think that you can play us for fools. Between the four of us, we've seen and pulled every trick there is to play, which is why WE will be the ones to save wrestling from the likes of the barbies, the bimbos, and the bitter *BEEP*ing *BEEP*es that infest it.”

I pocket the quarter to Danny's obvious dismay, before saying to him, “I believe I promised you a safe departure, Danny. I suggest you take me up on that offer. Immediately.” Not needing to be told twice, Danny back out of Countdown's locker room.

The Swiss blonde moves to follow, but I reach out, grabbing hold of the collar of her dress and yanking it backwards, pulling the woman off balance and sending her down to the hard floor onto her back. “Scheiße!” she curses, the German word slipping past FTW's American censors, and as the door closes behind Danny, I loom over her. As she clutches at the back of her head, I'm joined by my Countdown cohorts in doing so.

“I never offered you any such promises. And you didn't bring any booze...”

[Lord Tantalus]

LvK: Ladies and gentlemen, our main event is coming up next, but first, a word from our sponsor...


A woman sits on a couch and finishes reading Mr. Mercedes by Stephen King. She puts the book down with other books: Gone Girl, The Da Vinci Code, The Fault in Our Stars...

ANNOUNCER: Do you ever wonder where writers get their ideas from?

The woman looks at the camera. "I sure do."

ANNOUNCER: Well, wonder no more! Because now, you can get ideas from the same place professional authors get theirs!

The woman looks amazed. "Really? Where?"

The camera cuts to a man standing in front of a small shack in the middle of the desert. He holds a microphone and has a mile-wide smile on his face.

He says, "From here! Inside this cabin is a man who has come up with every great idea ever written down as a novel! And you can get his ideas, too! Just send $19.95 to GREAT IDEAS FOR NOVELS, PO Box 472, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma! Just $19.95 gets you five GREAT novel ideas!"

Camera cuts back to the woman sitting in front of a CPU, holding an open envelope with five small pieces of paper.

"I got mine! You should get yours!"

She turns to the CPU and looks at the blank screen. "Gee," she says. "I have an idea, but... I don't know how to..."

The announcer steps in, blocking her from view.

"THAT'S $19.95 TO GREAT IDEAS FOR NOVELS! GET YOURS NOW!"