[In your standard backstage hallway, three Samoans, complete with tribal tattoos, unkempt hair, necklaces of shells, bones through nostrils, etc. all act like the stereotypical Samoan wrestler.]
OFFRAMP: Foolish humans!
MOSES: Prepare to die!
OFFRAMP: For we are…
MOSES & OFFRAMP: The Annoyed Samoans.
[Gradually it becomes clear that they speak perfect Americanized English. First, the meso-endomorphic one speaks.]
MOSES: My name is Moses Pupulolo.
[Pan over to one that looks like a man-ball.]
OFFRAMP: I am Offramp Alebua.
[Pan up to the huge monster with braided hair.]
OZZIE: Spaghetti.
OFFRAMP: And this is Ozzie Emshamo.
MOSES: And why are we Annoyed Samoans? My colleague Offramp will elucidate.
OFFRAMP: [aside] I’ll what?
MOSES: [aside] You’ll tell ‘em.
OFFRAMP: Oh, okay. Basically we’ve been watching wrestling all these years and we’ve been seeing all the Samoan stereotypes come in and out the door and we felt the need to provide positive Samoan archetypes.
MOSES: Absolutely. All you’ve been getting is this horrible “ooga booga, mi wanum shrink some hedz bullseet” for all these years, and we felt it was about time to show off what Samoan wrestlers are really capable of.
OFFRAMP: Ladies and gentlemen, would it surprise you to know that Ozzie Emshamo was part of the team that helped synthesize a new kind of polymer--
OZZIE: I like jam.
OFFRAMP: --A polymer that happens to be in use in exterior coolant piping on a little thing called, oh I don’t know… THE INTERNATIONAL SPACE STATION?
MOSES: I think that’s pretty neat, and I guess the modern wrestling world doesn’t. They’d rather see us shrug off punches to the head and eat tourists.
OFFRAMP: Well… I do eat tourists.
OZZIE: Spaghetti.
MOSES: That may be true, Offramp, but pretty much everyone forgets the garnish of flying fish roe and asparagus , and my personal opinion is that the inspired dusting of red wine vinegar single-handedly took you from two stars to three in the Zagat International Dining Guide.
OFFRAMP: Oh, you flatterer…
MOSES: No, it’s true. Ladies and gentlemen, how many of YOU are in the Zagat guide? Exactly what I thought.
OZZIE: Tuesday.
OFFRAMP: And Moses here enjoys literary criticism. Have any of you composed a treatise on the similarities of the style of meter used by Emily Bronte and e.e. cummings?
MOSES: So there you have it, that’s why we’re Annoyed.
OFFRAMP: Do not annoy us further or we will KILL YOU FOOLISH HUMANS.
MOSES: Uh, listen, Offramp, about the “foolish humans” thing…
OFFRAMP: Dial it back?
MOSES: In a nutshell, yes.
[Fade.]
ON JULY 1, 2009...
[Black and white footage from the DCWL in 2005.]
The referee gets in Bombay's face about the hair pulling,
threatening to disqualify Ash for his continued actions.
Bombay barks right back at the referee,
and the two begin shouting at each other at full volume!
Meanwhile, Al Perez is struggling to rise up from the floor,
as Rex Creed stands over him.
Perez groggily looks up at Creed,
just in time to see Rex bringing the beer stein over his head,
and smashing it directly into Al's face!
Glass and blood splatter everywhere,
as Perez's eyes roll back into his head,
and he collapses face-first to the concrete!
HP: "YES! HA! This freaking match just got a WHOLE LOT better!"
RM: "Al Perez is a bloddy mess now, folks, and Rex Creed isn't done
with him yet!"
The referee hasn't noticed Creed's actions at all,
as he continues to display his authority over Ash Bombay.
Creed yanks Perez up from the floor,
holding his head up by the hair, from behind.
He proceeds to wrap the barbed wire around Al's forehead,
making it extra tight to squeeze a few drops of blood out,
before forcing Perez up to his feet,
and slamming him face-first into the steel post!
The barbed wire digs deep into the flesh of Perez,
turning his face into a complete crimson mask.
Creed grins at his handiwork,
forcefully pulling the barbed wire off of Al's head,
leaving Perez up on his knees,
wobbling in a state of semi-consciousness.
Finally, Creed winds up with the hockey stick,
and brings it straight down over Perez's head,
cracking it in two, and sending more blood splattering!
...WHO MADE WHO? WHO MADE YOU?
[A parking lot, daytime. The sun is shining and Blaze Crimson has returned to her duty as head interviewer for the DCWL.]
BLAZE: Blaze Crimson here and it’s good to be back. The DCWL returns is Spokane with “Party Like It’s 2002” and already the first two contenders for the Dangerous Championship have been named. Wolf Masterson and Derrick L. Ford will face each other in a 15-minute time limit match to determine the first ever Dangerous Champion, but one man feels left out in the cold in the transition to Dangerous Wrestling.
[Pan out to reveal the former Jive Pawnbroker, who looks a lot larger. His teeth are now pearly white, and he sports a close cropped beard and afro.]
BLAZE: And that man is B.A. Jive who was widely rumoured to have been one of those two men fighting for the Dangerous Championship until the signing of Derrick Ford. B.A., you’ve been named as the first challenger for the Dangerous Championship at “Ruckus in the Rockies,” but are you unhappy about being left out in the cold in the first match.
[Jive Pawnbroker’s usual ghetto slang is now suddenly a matter-of-fact southern accent.]
JIVE: Well, Blaze, we got Derrick Ford going around saying he’s not worried about the current crop of DCWL stars which is a lie, because he faced me in untelevised tag matches back in 2008 and I whupped his ass on several occasions. And I’m not worried about Wolf Masterson, because that cracker is so skinny that when the Mafia went and collected on his gambling debts, they stuck the cement shoes on him and he still floated right back up to the top of the river.
[The old-school zoom in with the camera.]
JIVE: What gets me going is that I can’t go and win the first Dangerous Championship for all my fans and I’m going to have to wait until Ruckus in the Rockies to snap that skinny twig Masterson or take two hundred years of aggression on that pretty boy Ford. I want to beat you boys for that Dangerous Championship worse than you two want to beat each other for it. I will whupp you up and down Kelowna real good and win my championship for all my fans in the DCWL.
[He angrily shakes his head.]
JIVE: UGH, it just makes me sick, Blaze, when I think about either of those two crackers walking around with my gold.
[Jive walks off; focus back on Blaze.]
BLAZE: There it is, B.A. Jive challenges the Dangerous Champion at Ruckus in the Rockies. But coming up at the DCWL’s relaunch, it’s Derrick L. Ford vs. “Something Better” Wolf Masterson.
(Open in a posh office, decked out with all the finest things in life - mini-bar, mahogany desk, cushy leather seats and a grand view of a city (from quite a height) in the background. Yes, it's an office fit for an oil tycoon...or his son. Welcome to the office of Derrick L. Ford. Smiling an altogether unpleasant smile, the former Platinum Champion addresses the audience wearing a navy blue suit, white shirt, red tie, and white Stetson cowboy hat. When he speaks, it’s in the best non-regional diction that money can buy.)
FORD: well, well, well. The day that I never thought would come has arrived. You know Kyle...forgive me, but I never had the taste for formality that my former employer had...when I heard you were re-opening this great company I was genuinely shocked. How does one react to Kyle Hayden overseeing the rebirth of the DCWL? Perhaps the same way someone might react if Kenneth Lay was brought back from the dead and Enron showed up on the stock market. You took a profitable company with a successful Commissioner and bankrupted the damn thing in less than a year.
(The grin widens as Ford's eyes seem to glow.)
FORD: So, Kyle, forgive me if I'm not your biggest fan. After everything you put us through, did you really imagine that you could re-open this company, even if the name is slightly different, without some form of retribution?
(The glow fades.)
FORD: Don't get me wrong, why I'm here has little if anything to do with the former Commissioner. He sends his regards, by the way, and wished you luck just before he went out in front of tens of thousands of fans in Tokyo. He hopes that you will someday be as popular with DCWL fans as he is in his new home.
(A chuckle.)
FORD: No, this is about what you took from ME. This is about the final Demented Quest, when your Gorilla cost me my rightful shot at the DCWL Grand Championship. It's about the fact that I never got to defend my Platinum Championship, to establish my legacy as the best Platinum Champion of all time!
(The intensity returns.)
FORD: At "2002," I am going to walk into the ring as the final DCWL Platinum Champion and I will walk out as the first DCWL Dangerous Champion. After all, who's going to stop me? Wolf Masterson? How hard up for talent are you? No wonder you signed a man who is as close to a sworn enemy that you're gonna get for the very first show. The rest of the roster doesn't concern me either, but I'm not going to run them down. That, after all, was the purview of a man whose career you ruined. Unlike you, I have respect for those who are true champions.
(An idea occurs.)
FORD: Maybe you think YOU can stop me. After all, there's no reason I shouldn't be in the title match. You admitted that much yourself. So maybe you have a backup plan. Well, if you do, I have three words for you: Bring. It. On. If you in any way interfere with the match either before it takes place or while it's going on, you'll immediately undermine everything you tried to do in resurrecting the corpse of the old DCWL. You won't risk it. Not now. Not this early. Not with all the "no interference" measures you've taken. No, in that ring it will be Derrick Ford vs. Wolf Masterson. It will decide the DCWL Dangerous Championship. It will not be a contest.
(The camera zooms in as Ford points a finger - adorned with a large golden ring - at the camera.)
FORD: You and your goon can't do anything about it. It is destiny. It is the beginning of a new era for the DCWL - The era of DERRICK! L! FORD!
(Fade out.)
e-mail: dcwlwrestling@yahoo.com
http://dangerouswrestling.blogspot.com
http://dangerouswrestling.proboards.com
OFFRAMP: Foolish humans!
MOSES: Prepare to die!
OFFRAMP: For we are…
MOSES & OFFRAMP: The Annoyed Samoans.
[Gradually it becomes clear that they speak perfect Americanized English. First, the meso-endomorphic one speaks.]
MOSES: My name is Moses Pupulolo.
[Pan over to one that looks like a man-ball.]
OFFRAMP: I am Offramp Alebua.
[Pan up to the huge monster with braided hair.]
OZZIE: Spaghetti.
OFFRAMP: And this is Ozzie Emshamo.
MOSES: And why are we Annoyed Samoans? My colleague Offramp will elucidate.
OFFRAMP: [aside] I’ll what?
MOSES: [aside] You’ll tell ‘em.
OFFRAMP: Oh, okay. Basically we’ve been watching wrestling all these years and we’ve been seeing all the Samoan stereotypes come in and out the door and we felt the need to provide positive Samoan archetypes.
MOSES: Absolutely. All you’ve been getting is this horrible “ooga booga, mi wanum shrink some hedz bullseet” for all these years, and we felt it was about time to show off what Samoan wrestlers are really capable of.
OFFRAMP: Ladies and gentlemen, would it surprise you to know that Ozzie Emshamo was part of the team that helped synthesize a new kind of polymer--
OZZIE: I like jam.
OFFRAMP: --A polymer that happens to be in use in exterior coolant piping on a little thing called, oh I don’t know… THE INTERNATIONAL SPACE STATION?
MOSES: I think that’s pretty neat, and I guess the modern wrestling world doesn’t. They’d rather see us shrug off punches to the head and eat tourists.
OFFRAMP: Well… I do eat tourists.
OZZIE: Spaghetti.
MOSES: That may be true, Offramp, but pretty much everyone forgets the garnish of flying fish roe and asparagus , and my personal opinion is that the inspired dusting of red wine vinegar single-handedly took you from two stars to three in the Zagat International Dining Guide.
OFFRAMP: Oh, you flatterer…
MOSES: No, it’s true. Ladies and gentlemen, how many of YOU are in the Zagat guide? Exactly what I thought.
OZZIE: Tuesday.
OFFRAMP: And Moses here enjoys literary criticism. Have any of you composed a treatise on the similarities of the style of meter used by Emily Bronte and e.e. cummings?
MOSES: So there you have it, that’s why we’re Annoyed.
OFFRAMP: Do not annoy us further or we will KILL YOU FOOLISH HUMANS.
MOSES: Uh, listen, Offramp, about the “foolish humans” thing…
OFFRAMP: Dial it back?
MOSES: In a nutshell, yes.
[Fade.]
ON JULY 1, 2009...
[Black and white footage from the DCWL in 2005.]
The referee gets in Bombay's face about the hair pulling,
threatening to disqualify Ash for his continued actions.
Bombay barks right back at the referee,
and the two begin shouting at each other at full volume!
Meanwhile, Al Perez is struggling to rise up from the floor,
as Rex Creed stands over him.
Perez groggily looks up at Creed,
just in time to see Rex bringing the beer stein over his head,
and smashing it directly into Al's face!
Glass and blood splatter everywhere,
as Perez's eyes roll back into his head,
and he collapses face-first to the concrete!
HP: "YES! HA! This freaking match just got a WHOLE LOT better!"
RM: "Al Perez is a bloddy mess now, folks, and Rex Creed isn't done
with him yet!"
The referee hasn't noticed Creed's actions at all,
as he continues to display his authority over Ash Bombay.
Creed yanks Perez up from the floor,
holding his head up by the hair, from behind.
He proceeds to wrap the barbed wire around Al's forehead,
making it extra tight to squeeze a few drops of blood out,
before forcing Perez up to his feet,
and slamming him face-first into the steel post!
The barbed wire digs deep into the flesh of Perez,
turning his face into a complete crimson mask.
Creed grins at his handiwork,
forcefully pulling the barbed wire off of Al's head,
leaving Perez up on his knees,
wobbling in a state of semi-consciousness.
Finally, Creed winds up with the hockey stick,
and brings it straight down over Perez's head,
cracking it in two, and sending more blood splattering!
...WHO MADE WHO? WHO MADE YOU?
[A parking lot, daytime. The sun is shining and Blaze Crimson has returned to her duty as head interviewer for the DCWL.]
BLAZE: Blaze Crimson here and it’s good to be back. The DCWL returns is Spokane with “Party Like It’s 2002” and already the first two contenders for the Dangerous Championship have been named. Wolf Masterson and Derrick L. Ford will face each other in a 15-minute time limit match to determine the first ever Dangerous Champion, but one man feels left out in the cold in the transition to Dangerous Wrestling.
[Pan out to reveal the former Jive Pawnbroker, who looks a lot larger. His teeth are now pearly white, and he sports a close cropped beard and afro.]
BLAZE: And that man is B.A. Jive who was widely rumoured to have been one of those two men fighting for the Dangerous Championship until the signing of Derrick Ford. B.A., you’ve been named as the first challenger for the Dangerous Championship at “Ruckus in the Rockies,” but are you unhappy about being left out in the cold in the first match.
[Jive Pawnbroker’s usual ghetto slang is now suddenly a matter-of-fact southern accent.]
JIVE: Well, Blaze, we got Derrick Ford going around saying he’s not worried about the current crop of DCWL stars which is a lie, because he faced me in untelevised tag matches back in 2008 and I whupped his ass on several occasions. And I’m not worried about Wolf Masterson, because that cracker is so skinny that when the Mafia went and collected on his gambling debts, they stuck the cement shoes on him and he still floated right back up to the top of the river.
[The old-school zoom in with the camera.]
JIVE: What gets me going is that I can’t go and win the first Dangerous Championship for all my fans and I’m going to have to wait until Ruckus in the Rockies to snap that skinny twig Masterson or take two hundred years of aggression on that pretty boy Ford. I want to beat you boys for that Dangerous Championship worse than you two want to beat each other for it. I will whupp you up and down Kelowna real good and win my championship for all my fans in the DCWL.
[He angrily shakes his head.]
JIVE: UGH, it just makes me sick, Blaze, when I think about either of those two crackers walking around with my gold.
[Jive walks off; focus back on Blaze.]
BLAZE: There it is, B.A. Jive challenges the Dangerous Champion at Ruckus in the Rockies. But coming up at the DCWL’s relaunch, it’s Derrick L. Ford vs. “Something Better” Wolf Masterson.
(Open in a posh office, decked out with all the finest things in life - mini-bar, mahogany desk, cushy leather seats and a grand view of a city (from quite a height) in the background. Yes, it's an office fit for an oil tycoon...or his son. Welcome to the office of Derrick L. Ford. Smiling an altogether unpleasant smile, the former Platinum Champion addresses the audience wearing a navy blue suit, white shirt, red tie, and white Stetson cowboy hat. When he speaks, it’s in the best non-regional diction that money can buy.)
FORD: well, well, well. The day that I never thought would come has arrived. You know Kyle...forgive me, but I never had the taste for formality that my former employer had...when I heard you were re-opening this great company I was genuinely shocked. How does one react to Kyle Hayden overseeing the rebirth of the DCWL? Perhaps the same way someone might react if Kenneth Lay was brought back from the dead and Enron showed up on the stock market. You took a profitable company with a successful Commissioner and bankrupted the damn thing in less than a year.
(The grin widens as Ford's eyes seem to glow.)
FORD: So, Kyle, forgive me if I'm not your biggest fan. After everything you put us through, did you really imagine that you could re-open this company, even if the name is slightly different, without some form of retribution?
(The glow fades.)
FORD: Don't get me wrong, why I'm here has little if anything to do with the former Commissioner. He sends his regards, by the way, and wished you luck just before he went out in front of tens of thousands of fans in Tokyo. He hopes that you will someday be as popular with DCWL fans as he is in his new home.
(A chuckle.)
FORD: No, this is about what you took from ME. This is about the final Demented Quest, when your Gorilla cost me my rightful shot at the DCWL Grand Championship. It's about the fact that I never got to defend my Platinum Championship, to establish my legacy as the best Platinum Champion of all time!
(The intensity returns.)
FORD: At "2002," I am going to walk into the ring as the final DCWL Platinum Champion and I will walk out as the first DCWL Dangerous Champion. After all, who's going to stop me? Wolf Masterson? How hard up for talent are you? No wonder you signed a man who is as close to a sworn enemy that you're gonna get for the very first show. The rest of the roster doesn't concern me either, but I'm not going to run them down. That, after all, was the purview of a man whose career you ruined. Unlike you, I have respect for those who are true champions.
(An idea occurs.)
FORD: Maybe you think YOU can stop me. After all, there's no reason I shouldn't be in the title match. You admitted that much yourself. So maybe you have a backup plan. Well, if you do, I have three words for you: Bring. It. On. If you in any way interfere with the match either before it takes place or while it's going on, you'll immediately undermine everything you tried to do in resurrecting the corpse of the old DCWL. You won't risk it. Not now. Not this early. Not with all the "no interference" measures you've taken. No, in that ring it will be Derrick Ford vs. Wolf Masterson. It will decide the DCWL Dangerous Championship. It will not be a contest.
(The camera zooms in as Ford points a finger - adorned with a large golden ring - at the camera.)
FORD: You and your goon can't do anything about it. It is destiny. It is the beginning of a new era for the DCWL - The era of DERRICK! L! FORD!
(Fade out.)
e-mail: dcwlwrestling@yahoo.com
http://dangerouswrestling.blogspot.com
http://dangerouswrestling.proboards.com
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