888888ba 88888888b 888888ba 888888ba 88 `8b 88 88 `8b 88 `8b 88 88 a88aaaa a88aaaa8P' a88aaaa8P' 88 88 88 88 `8b. 88 88 .8P 88 88 88 88 8888888P 88888888P dP dP dP ...PROUDLY PRESENTS... @@@@@@@@ @@@ @@@@@@@@ @@@ @@@ @@@@@@@ @@@ @@@ @@@ @@@@@@@@ @@@@@@@@ @@@ @@@@@@@@@ @@@ @@@ @@@@@@@ @@@ @@@@ @@@ @@@@@@@@@ @@! @@! !@@ @@! @@@ @@! @@! @@!@!@@@ !@@ !@! !@! !@! !@! @!@ !@! !@! !@!!@!@! !@! @!!!:! !!@ !@! @!@!@ @!@!@!@! @!! !!@ @!@ !!@! !@! @!@!@ !!!!!: !!! !!! !!@!! !!!@!!!! !!! !!! !@! !!! !!! !!@!! !!: !!: :!! !!: !!: !!! !!: !!: !!: !!! :!! !!: :!: :!: :!: !:: :!: !:! :!: :!: :!: !:! :!: !:: :: :: ::: :::: :: ::: :: :: :: :: ::: :::: : : :: :: : : : : : : :: : :: :: : @@@ @@@ @@@ @@@@@@ @@@@@@@ @@@@@@@ @@@@@@ @@@ @@@ @@@ @@@ @@@@@@@@ @@@@@@@@ @@@@@@@@ @@@@@@@ @@@ @@! @@! @@! @@! @@@ @@! @@@ @@! @@@ !@@ @@! !@! !@! !@! !@! @!@ !@! @!@ !@! @!@ !@! !@ @!! !!@ @!@ @!@ !@! @!@!!@! @!@ !@! !!@@!! @!@ !@! !!! !@! !@! !!! !!@!@! !@! !!! !!@!!! !!! !!: !!: !!: !!: !!! !!: :!! !!: !!! !:! :!: :!: :!: :!: !:! :!: !:! :!: !:! !:! :!: :::: :: ::: ::::: :: :: ::: :::: :: :::: :: :: :: : : : : : : : : : :: : : :: : : ::: APPEARING IN THIS ISSUE: 1 - the Merry Pranksters 2 - Bateman 3 - "All Action" Denny Latimer 4 - Joshua Black -- UNOFFICIAL GNAW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMP??? 5 - "the RegiSTARRed One" Frank Wilkes 6 - Cow and Chicken - DERP STEEL CITY TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS 7 - "The Toyko Bad Boy" Ikuto Nagashima 8 - The Mighty Quinn! 9 - "KotC" Twinkletoes Twilliger -- DERP STEEL CITY CHAMPION 10 - "the 24 Hour Man" Ric Beauty 11 - Tracy Hudson 12 - Nerd Power Collective 13 - "The Trashman" Tyrone Heat 14 - The Perfectly Perfect Alliance Bullzeye Konga O'Reily ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* [Operating the computer of your choice, one accesses Youtube.com, specially the DERP channel. On it is a video of the latest episode of "Fighting Words!" With one click of the mouse, the awesomness begins.] ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 1 - MERRY PRANKSTERS ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ [Camera opens up in some sort of restroom it seems, with two dudes in blue jean shorts and tie dyes each come out of separate stalls.... holding things of cling wrap? Memories start to flood back, as one remembers the guy in the red and black tie-dye name is Captain Trips, and the guy in the black and blue tie-dye is called Reddy Kilowatt... Together they are... the Merry Pranksters!] CAPTAIN TRIPS: I used to do drugs.......... I still do, but I used to, too! [Both men just look at each other, and crack a big ole grin, before each disappears into another stall. Reddy talks loud enough for everyone in the Tri- State area to here him, not just Captain Trip's a few stalls down.] REDDY KILOWATT: My roommate says, "I'm going to take a shower and shave. Does anyone need to use the bathroom?"............. It's like some weird quiz where he reveals the answer first! [Captain just grunts, obviously not finding it that hilarious, as the two again reemerge. The camera angle now rotates, showing that there.. aren't anymore stalls than the four the men have already been in. Walking over towards the sink...] CT: I got my hair highlighted because I felt that some strands were more important than others. [Both men crack a wide smile, as the sit on the counter, Captain pulling out a doobie from his pocket.] RK; I got some tartar-control toothpaste a while back................. I've still got tartar though...... but now it's _under control_! [Small laughs, as Captain sparks it up, with help from Reddy's lighter.] CT: I think pickles are cucumbers that sold out..... [Kilowatt shakes his head, taking a drag off the doob...] RK: I like an escalator because an escalator can never break. It can only become stairs. You would never see an "Escalator temporarily out-of-order" sign. Just "Escalator temporarily are stairs. Sorry for the convenience. We apologize for the fact that you can still get up there." [That one gets Captain good, as Reddy takes another puff...] RK: I think Pringles' initial intention was to make tennis balls. But on the day that the rubber was supposed to show up, a big truckload of potatoes arrived. But Pringles was a laid-back company. They said "Fuck it. Cut 'em up! We can play tennis later." [TTTHHHUUUDDD!!!] [Captain falls off the counter and rolls around on the floor, as Reddy grins ear to ear, just puffing away!] RK: I like cinnamon rolls. That's why I wish they made... like... a cinnamon roll incense. 'Cause I don't always have time to make a pan! And perhaps I'd rather light a stick, and have my roommates wake up with false hopes than feed them selfish bastards! [Captain is now choking, he's laughing so hard, as Reddy blows a big ole hit right into the camera lens, as it fades away...] ^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 2 - BATEMAN ^*^*^*^*^*^*^* (A 2004 Mustang convertible is driving down a empty highway. A handsome young man with shaggy hair is in the driver's seat. He is in a blazer with a pink polo and looks like an asshole. Next to him in the passenger seat is a beautiful young woman. She is obviously not a natural blond but she pulls it off well. The lady is in a sundress that show off all of her features.) "We have been driving for hours, where are you taking me?" (The guy turns with a smile on his face to look at her.) "Don't worry about it. I'm driving and you are going to remember this day for a long time." "My sorority sisters worned me about you. A lot of them told me you are just sleeping your way around school, with no intention of calling any girls back." (His smile fades, as his face turns red.) "No need to worry Pat, I have a boyfriend but he is California. You are too cute but I don't want to throw away a long term relationship on some playboy. So here's the deal we are going to have a good time today and then act like this didn't happen." (And the smile is almost ear to ear on his face. He knocks his sunglasses down onto the tip of his nose and looks her over again. She is doing her best to put on a sexy pose by biting her finger and he is eating it right up. After a few seconds, he pushes his sunglasses back up to cover his eyes and finally looks back to the road.) "Boyfriend? You are the girl I was looking to spend today with!" (After a few more miles of driving, he pulled off the highway onto a dirt road. A few more miles down and had pulls to the side of the dirt road next to a large green field. He steps out of the car and walks to open the trunk.) "What are we doing here?" (She steps out of the car as dust rolls past her. She is walking to the open trunk where Pat is digging around. He pops out with a blanket in one hand and a basket in the other.) "And we have the ingredients for a fun afternoon!" (He slams the trunk down, and starts walking into the field. The grass comes up to their knees and she let's out a few little giggles as she walks behind him. After several yards he stops and uses the blanket to crush down the grass. She sits down and he pulls out a bottle of wine.) "I hope you like the gas station specialty wine! Will you grab a few glasses out of that basket?" (She lets out a fake laugh, as he looks like a jackass trying to pull out the cheap cork. After a few minutes he finally gets it open and both fills both glasses. They both drink their glasses quickly.) "So what classes are you taking?" (She puts her glass down and throws his glass to the side. The rest of the day went as both had planned. A little cheap talking about nothing that turned in to some rolling around in the grass. They cleaned up their mess and he drove her back to her dorm. A little making out and she pulled back and looked him in the eyes.) "Like I said I have a boyfriend and this didn't happen! Got it?" "Who the hell are you? And how did you get in my car?" (She smiled and got out of the car.) - (Fletcher walks back into the first class cabin to only here a voice from behind him.) "So when are you buying out first class again, handsome?" (Fletcher turns around to see a stewardess re-buttoning her shirt. Her hair is in a mess that could only be explained by sex in small bathroom and she is waiting for an answer.) "We will be heading back to Tejas in a few day, same plan. We will buy out first class and enjoy ourselves with no interruptions. You should make sure you are on that flight. Now sweety, my good friend is right there and he hates people so you might want to get back to your station before he becomes a dick." (Fletcher is pointing to Bateman who is sitting next to a window. She quickly looks to see a man in a black suit with some sort of black ski mask and black gloves on. She nodes in weird manner, grabs Fletcher, and locks on a passionate kisses before quickly getting out of first class. Fletcher shakes his head and walks over to sit across across the isle from Bateman.) "So boss what's on your mind?" (Silence.) "Boss...?" (Fletcher steps over and waves his hand in front of Bateman's face. Bateman snaps out of his trance and looks up at Fletcher.) "How much longer till we land?" "About 30. Are you alright?" (Bateman puts his hands up to rub at his eyes. They were dry, he must have not blinded too many times when he was day dreaming.) "Just re-living the beginning of the end." "Now come on, this isn't the time boss!" "No need to worry, I'm going to go out there and make the 'Ace Ventura When Nature Calls' reject tap out. I mean really? A damn clown? Hell if you have time to waste in bathrooms I can think about the past." (Fletcher just smiles.) "By the way boss, I have an idea for one of your new friends..." (Fletcher voice drops as things fade to black.) ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 3 - DENNY LATIMER ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ (Scene open on what looks like a low-budget motel room. Damp patch on the wall, 10-year-old TV in the corner, not even the dignity of a minibar fridge. Sat on the corner of the bed , gulping down generic store energy drink, wearing a two- seasons’ old Bradford City soccer jersey, is "All Action" Denny Latimer. In addition to his cast, he has a couple of stitches above his eye and a general demeanor of "beaten down". He addresses the camera with a sigh.) DL: I’m going to have to pack all this in soon. Wrestling, DERP, the hardcore style. It’s killing me. Literally killing me. Let me run through what happened the other week. Bateman, he smashes a Casio keyboard over my skull. Bullzeye smacks a dartboard into my face.. and let me tell you one thing, lad, back where I come from you don’t disrespect the sport of darts like that. Twinkletoes Twilliger spits a three-day-old footlong with sweet onion sauce into my face. And then I get dumped out of a battle royal, onto my head, with nothing to show for it. And I ain’t no medical professional, but I don’t think the human body is designed to take that kind of punishment week in, week out. I stumbled out of that arena in a daze. And the next few days I had a throbbing head, dizziness, feelings of vertigo, claustrophobia, nausea. And then they came. These... visions? More like waking nightmares, something out of a horror movie. I honestly thought I’d lost my mind. I hallucinated, and God only knows how I kept my sanity after picturing this, but I hallucinated that Twinkletoes Twilliger had become DERP Steel City Champion. Oh the humanity... (Finishes can of energy drink, throws it in the corner of the room completely missing any waste receptacle.) DL: Can you imagine? Can you imagine if a bunch of wrestlers sacrificed their bodies, their minds and their short-term career prospects to help build a wrestling promotion from the ground up, and the guy ascends to the throne first of all looks like Marlon Brando’s corpse after a Sweet 16 makeover? And, listen son, I’m no gym bunny, I’ve got a gut that shows the hallmarks of a few too many late nights at Abdul’s Kebab House, but.. look, we’re in a profession that offers us very little in the way of dignity. I know it, you know it, everyone in the back knows it. If we can make it through 20 years in this job without being forced to wrestle dressed up as the Red Power Ranger or having a guy shove a business card in your palm while telling you that "the basement wrestling market pays quite well"... then you’re doing well. And that’s all I want, you know? A bit of dignity to DERP. There’s fans out there who care. I hear them in the audience, I see them at the cookouts and the after parties, these guys see something in DERP. And they deserve a champion who is fighting for them, a champion who embodies what makes these fans great, a love of this sport of ours and the knowledge that if you don’t work, you don’t eat. They don’t deserve to have strippergram William Howard Taft as their world champion. (Pause) DL: So that’s what I’ve got to do. Win the DERP Championship. Something nice and simple. There’s a Stairway to Hell match at our next show. What’s on top of that ladder, I dunno. Singapore cane? Billy club? Pearl-handled revolver? Whatever it is, Twink, I’m going to grab that ladder, walk up it, grab the item, smash it repeatedly across your head and take that title. Not for me, but for the good of this company as a whole. And if I don’t do it, someone else will and fair play to them. Also, before I go and take some more codeine.. Donovan O’Reily. I don’t get it, son, I really don’t. You beat me. Then I beat you. And now you’re following me around like a 15-year-old girl who’s been dumped for the first time. I worry that I’m going to turn my mobile phone on and find 25 text messages from you. It’s a job, lad, nothing more, nothing less. If you’re got some feelings, if you’ve got some emotions, put on your big girl panties and deal with them in the ring. Don’t follow me around like a bad odor. Which is ironic, I suppose... (Fade out.) ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 4 - JOSHUA BLACK ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ [The scene fades in with the camera focused solely on the GNAW Heavyweight championship belt. The lights from above are reflecting on the metal. As the camera starts to pull out, we see the belt is being worn around the waist of Joshua Black. As the camera pans up and further out, we see Heather Black standing next to Joshua.. her red Arizona Cardinals t-shirt going quite well with his black Cardinals t-shirt. His golden blonde hair is tied back like usual, as is Heather's. Once the camera finally stops moving back, we see the black backdrop behind the couple with the words "PURE ENTERTAINMENT" written in gold lettering.] JB: Ever get that feeling that something just feels... right? Look at what's standing in front of you right now. Myself, Joshua Black, wearing championship gold... just the way it should be. Fate's funny in that way. You have that talentless piece of trash Bullzeye walking around with the 24/7 title.. and the first ever Steel City champ is noneother than a man that goes by the name of Twinkletoes. [Heather rolls her eyes at the mention of good ol' Twinketoes.] JB: And then, there's what's around my waist.. the GNAW Heavyweight championship.. which was proudly being carried around by a man who, quite simply, doesn't deserve to call himself a champion. A bland, talentless hack who makes sure that anyone that'll listen knows he's a sex offender.. and is seemingly proud of the fact. Is that the type of man that deserves to be called a champion? Even if it was for a worthless garbage company like GNAW, that's not a man that should be representing anything. [Joshua takes off the sunglasses and smiles.] ee JB: So, while GNAW may have met it's "untimely" demise, Wilkes still walks through these halls every day.. throughout the DERP Arena in front of all of you proclaiming himself as a "champion" and, well, that doesn't settle right with me. So, I did what no one else had the balls to do.. I from him what he never deserved in the first place. If Wilkes wants it back so badly, he knows where to find me. Of course, it'll be under MY terms, Frankie boy. [Heather giggles a little at the last comment as Joshua's smile grows.] JB: Onto more immediate matters, it seems a man known as Ric Beauty is the next in line to step into the ring with me. That doesn't bode well for him, not one bit. For starters, if I recall correctly, the man has to be nearing 60 by now.. and, yet, he still thinks he can go in the ring? I mean, it IS DERP and all, though, so he has a reason to think that. A company like this is the perfect place for a decrepid piece of shit like him, because all he needs to do is pick up the biggest, heaviest thing he can find, start swinging wildly, and hope he hits someone. It's the perfect plan, isn't it? Except the plan has a fatal flaw... it's not going to work against me. If Ric Beauty wants respect from me, he'll have to earn it by beating me in a WRESTLING match, something we know that no one in this pathetic company can do. [JOshua puts the sunglasses back on and drapes his right arm over the shoulder of Heather.] JB: So, Ric, I hope you're ready to finally call it a career.. because, after I run circles around you in that ring and beat you, I'll make sure you fully comprehend that your time is up.. and that this company, and this business, belong to Joshua Black. HB: And... there's only ONE Joshua BLack! [Scene fades out.] ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 5 - FRANK WILKES ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ Librarian: Okay, gather around, it’s story time. [Our scene is set in the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh, where a guest reading by a local celebrity has brought quite a crowd to the children’s area. Bored parents line the walls, daydreaming of their carefree pasts, as their offspring start to take seats on the carpet. A small puppet booth has been erected at the far side of the room, with the kids clamouring to get as close as possible.] Billy: STORYTIME!!! MOOOOOOOOOOOOM... IT’S STORYTIME! STORYTIME!!!!!!!!!! STORYTIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE STORYTIME! I LOVE STORYTIME! I LOVE STORYTIME! I LOVE STOR------------------------ [Oh no! In all his enthusiasm, Billy seems to have missed out on all the choice seats. All that’s left is the nosebleed section... literally, there’s blood all over the carpet. Fucking two year olds always picking their goddamn noses... is what Billy chalks it up to, with less colourful language.] Billy: MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM.... that kid took my seat! [...As charming as our videographer finds this irritating scamp; the show must go on, so he pushes Billy aside to steal the last spot on the carpet. Sitting cross legged, the videographer zooms in on the booth just as the curtains are pulled back.] Billy: I wonder what kind of story it will be shut up, it’s STORYTIME! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM ... I can’t hear the story, this kid is talking! [With the curtains pulled back we find our stage set in a forest, because trees are easy to draw. Up from below the stage comes a puppet that looks not unlike Ikuto Nagashima...] Frank Wilkes : Once upon a time there was a bad boy... who never listened to his parents, and was always getting into trouble. Doing stupid things... like talking to strangers... [Another puppet comes out of the stage looking just like Frank Wilkes, much to the delight of the crowd.] Puppet Frank Wilkes: ...You should know I’m REGISTERED... Children : ...IN PENNSYLVANIA!!! Frank Wilkes : Despite the fact that the Bad Boy’s parents told him not to speak to strangers, because he’s out of his league and going to get schooled, the kid just couldn’t help himself. Bad Boy: Do you have any candy mister? Puppet Frank Wilkes: I think I have some in that creepy forest... Frank Wilkes : So the Bad Boy and the Stranger go into the creepy forest... and they walk deeper and deeper... and it gets darker and darker... and finally when it’s so dark they can barely see their hands in front of their faces, the Bad Boy looks up to the Stranger and says... Bad Boy: Jeez mister... I’m scared. Puppet Frank Wilkes: You think you’re scared kid? I have to leave this forest alone. [Zing.] Billy: MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM – I don’t get it. [The curtains close as the Wilkes puppet menacingly walks the Nagashima puppet off stage left. The curtains open again as the two puppets take a little bow, then Frank Wilkes emerges from below the booth to a lot of hooting and hollering from the parents. DERP’s very own sex symbol? Sadly, yes.] Frank Wilkes: Thanks folks. Now kids remember, never talk to strangers! I hope you enjoyed that, see I’m not just here because I have Court ordered community service to do... though I’d appreciate it if you could sign off on my hour’s sheet. No... I’m here today because reading is important! [What a great role model!] Frank Wilkes: ...And with quite a few hours of community service left, I hope I’ll see all your faces for future instalments of reading and rassling. Oh, and I’ll be taking on "The Tokyo Bad Boy" Ikuto Nagashima this weekend... so come on down to the DERP arena. Should be quite a show... After all, we all know what I do to bad boys... Puppet Ikuto Nagashima: If it’s anything like what you do to good boys, I think I’ll pass! Frank Wilkes: Why you--------- [One sex offender joke too far, and RSO starts to choke out the puppet on his right hand. Falling to the floor, Wilkes starts to roll around... the puppet is actually getting a few good shots in. The children delight, eating this up.] Billy: MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM... are you seeing this? Billy’s Mother: I’m not blind Billy. Billy: Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.,, Mom, I told them you were. [That kid is going to come to a bad end... but it will have to wait. As Wilkes rolls backwards into the stage, knocking it over, we leave our preview of things to come with a fade.] ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 6 - COW AND CHICKEN ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ [The scene opens to the interior of a Chick-Fil-A restaurant.] DCGM: eet mor chikin. [Damn cannibal.] DCGM: Talk to the Chicken about that. [We pass by a few fans wearing pieces of Pittsburgh Steeler memorabilia, denoting this as a local Pittsburgh-area restaurant. We finally settle on our dynamic duo, who, for some odd reason... are dressed in their wrestling attire. Moo wearing his black ringpants covered in white blotches, matching the long black-with-white-spot hair running down his back, and a blue t-shirt that reads "DERP" across the front in red. His partner is wearing his ringpants as well, white with drawn-in feathers all over it, and his crude gutted-out-chicken lucha mask, topped off by the white t-shirt with an image of the DERP Steel City Tag Team Title belt around his waist. And sitting on the table, beside their chicken sandwiches, are the actual Steel City Tag Team Championship belts.] [Um, you guys know this is your day off, right?] EPL: What's a day off? [When you... ah, never mind.] DCGM: eet mor chikin. [Yeah, about that... aren't you a Chicken, Loco?] EPL: Is he serious? [Moo shrugs.] DCGM: I told you it was best to ignore the voices in your head, little one. [Loco frowns.] EPL: But, um, you hear them too don't you? [Moo merely smiles. Fine, ignore me will you. Screw you guys, I'm going home.] DCGM: If only we could be so lucky. EPL: Have you talked to Mr. Trashman yet, Moo? [Moo shakes his head, finishing the bite of the chicken sandwich he just stuffed into his mouth.] DCGM: Mr. Heat is a noble man, but I can imagine he has a busy schedule. Between putting people through tables, assisting Cow and Chicken... EPL: Moo! DCGM: ... in our time of need, and taking care of people's trash in his spare time, he must have found it difficult to return my phone call. [Are you serious?] EPL: But he was such a nice helpful man! Why won't he talk to us? [You guys can't ignore me forever.] DCGM: Indeed he was, a true hero and fighter of evil. Dee-Ee-Are-Pee needs more of those, and I look forward to working with another this week. [Are we talking about the same Tyrone Heat?] EPL: Me too! We should find a good way to thank him for his help! [The guy who cleared the ring cause he was tired of waiting to put a guy through a table?] DCGM: I believe that would be your department, little one. [The guy who slammed another wrestler into a trash can?] EPL: I'll think of something _awesome_ Moo, I promise! [STOP IGNORING ME!] DCGM: I'm sure you will, young Chicken. [Fine, I'll just ignore what you guys are doing too then.] EPL: I can't wait to meet Mr. Trashman! [] DCGM: We will need to rely on Mr. Heat this week, as our mission against the evil continues. The men who attempted to take our titles from us two weeks ago will again attempt to do so this week. EPL: They can't have my pretty! I've already decided that it's mine forever! [] DCGM: Then let us hope, young Chicken, that Mr. Heat will be as focused on this matchup as we are. EPL: Call him again, Moo! [] ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 7 - IKUTO NAGASHIMA ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ [Fade in.] [The scene opens to a darkened room, where we "Tokyo Bad Boy" Ikuto Nagashima, seated on an ornate throne, a spotlight shining down on our Pharaoh of Fab. He’s clad in a white, floor-length, fur coat, open to reveal a pair of bright pink, hot pants and cowboy boots. Perched atop his head is an elaborate crown. The throne is flanked by two muscled men, clad only in gold thongs, powered wigs, and brandishing spears. As the camera zooms closer, a pleased smile crosses Ikuto’s flawless face.] Ikuto: I could say that I told you so, but the proof speaks for itself. I did just as I said I would. After months of getting on my last damned nerves, I _finally_ left that geriatric wonder, Ric Beauty, beaten and humiliated. I tried to warn the poor fool about what would happen if he continued to show his ass. But he ignored me. Instead, he persisted in upsetting me, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, and continuing to think himself my equal. [Ikuto shakes his head as if it is the most insane notion ever.] Ikuto: And, as a result, he was made to pay. I had to teach him what happens when you trifle with DERP’s absolute best. Unfortunately, sending that dog back to his cage must have upset someone important. Because I’m now…forced to wrestle this Frank Wilkes person next! [He rolls his eyes.] Ikuto: Now, I like a good pervert, just as much as the next freak, but he’s at least got to be cute! This Wilkes? [Ikuto makes a face and waves his hand through the air.] Ikuto: Is hardly that, with his weird, beady, little eyes and bland face! [shivers] Ugh! I suppose that, after I demolished DERP’s archaic mascot, someone thought it would be a fitting punishment to put me in against this loser. Or perhaps, it was their idea of a joke. The pedo fighting the queer. [The tanned stunner snorts in disgust.] Ikuto: Whatever. They’ll soon learn that the joke is on them, when I completely destroy yet another of these so-called crowd favorites. See, I don’t like having my time wasted. With my talent, beauty, and overall fabness, I should be taking the Steel City Championship from around Twinkletoes Twilliger’s bloated waist. Instead, I’m fighting some talentless scrub that should be trolling elementary school parking lots, not infesting a DERP ring! But I’ll rectify that mistake soon enough. Because I plan to make yet another example out of Wilkes, just like I did the geezer. And, in the process, I’ll serve notice to Delaney and anyone else that doesn’t quite get it. Either you give me what I want or I take it, one broken body at a time. [He shrugs, the smirk returning.] Ikuto: Your choice. [snaps fingers] Let's go, fellas. Papa's bored. [With that, the two muscled men heft the throne on their shoulders, lifting Ikuto in the air and carrying him off as the scene fades to black.] ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 8 - THE MIGHY QUINN! ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ [In front of the camera stands three men, one known to the DERP faithful, the other two not. The one known is the formely homeless wrestling superstar now officially collecting a dismal paycheck as the official DERP interviewer. Though, Delaney built him his own bedroom, so Foodstamp surely cannot complain. But even under the leather mask, one can tell Foodstamp is a bit nervous standing next to the unknown gentlemen. One is a middle aged gentlemen, featuring a decent size beer gut and gray haired mullet. He's wearing a green button up shirt, with slacks, trying his best to look professional as possible. He stands about the same height as Food. The other gentlemen, though, is the one that must be making Foodstamp nervous, as he's a giant. The camera continues to struggle keeping his massive height within frame shot, but it works. Dressed in one giant black wreslting singlet, the big man looks rather intimadating, having a full head of hair and massively ripped muscles.] FOODSTAMP: So.... DERP Faithful... Today, I find myself on the bit nervous side... Uh... I'm here with.... Uh... Shit.... [The middle aged man grabs the microphone.] MIDDLE AGED MAN: My name is Bob Zimmerman... [The giant grabs the mic.] GINT: And my name is... Qui... Qui... [Pauses, trying to stop the stuttering..] GIANT: My name is Qui... Qui.... Qui....... [SLAP ON THE BACK!] ..._QUINN_! [Bob just shakes his head taking back over the mic,] ZIMMERMAN: That is... THE MIGHTY QUINN! The roughest, toughest, more extreme Eskimo this side of the Mississippi! You guys are in a treat getting to see this man compete! FOODSTAMP: He is fucking tall.... [Bob goes to answer, but Quinn cuts him off.] QUINN: I stand seven foot four inches! I weight over four hundred pounds! [Bob pats Quinn on the back, muttering "good boy" under his breath...] ZIMMERMAN: Truly a impressive sight, isn't he dear friend Foodstamp? FOODSTAMP: Impressive you can certainly say... but I gotta ask... he's a friendly giant I take it? ZIMMERMAN: Quinn is not about creating hatred and causing ill will to others! Quinn is about saving this wonderful land of DERP, turning dispair into joy and chaos into order! It will be hard to run a muck with this giant in charge of keeping things under control! [Quinn nods, as Food scratches his head, still just in awe...] FOODSTAMP: He's on our side....? Thank God!!!So... This week's match against veteran wrestler _TRACY HUDSON_... One has to wonder how a rookie like Quinn is going to survive! ZIMMERMAN: Hell, Food, I thought you were on our side! It's not about survival for Quinn! It's about making it count, and picking up that all important first vict-- [Quinn rips the mic out of Foodstamps' hand, and grabs the camera with the other hand, getting right up in close.] QUINN: I know your a veteran, Tracy. I do not care. Does not matter what you have done in the past, only what you will do in the ring. And what you will do is... LOSE! For I am the Mighty Qui..... I am the Mighty Qui...... The might Qui...... ...THE MIGHTY QUINN!!! QUINN AND BOB: ...and that means I'm too mighty for you! [Fade Out.] ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 9 - TWINKLETOES TWILLIGER ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ (scene: a intersection somewhere in the Lawrenceville neighbourhood in the city of Pittsburgh. Cars are going in various directions and pedestrians on the intersection corners are waiting for the lights that will enable them to negotiate their way across this road and to their respective destinations. At this time a booming sound can be heard. The booming noise grows in volume until the source of the sound can be identified. The booming noise is actually music, ¨Pump up the Jam¨ by Technotronic to be exact. The source of this music is a pink Cadillac driven by the elderly Asian Elvis impersonator, Elbitz. In the car with Elbitz, are the emaciated women of suspect reputation known to all as the Twinkettes. The woman are sitting in the back of this Cadillac. One of the women holds up a sign saying ¨Tank U Plattsberg¨ while the others pass around a 40 ounce bottle of clear liquid, no doubt alcoholic in origin, in addition to what appears to be a hand rolled, ¨cigarette¨. In the front sits the greatest big little man in the history of DERP, none other than The King Of The Crusierweights, Twinkletoes Tiwilliger. Twinkletoes is wearing his trademark brown suit that is three sizes too small for him and looking to burst its seems due to the pressure from the flab underneath. The pink Cadillac stops in the middle of the intersection, and Twinkletoes stands up in the car, putting the front shocks of the vehicle through a rather rigorous test. Twinkletoes has what appears to be the megaphone of Elbitz in his hand. Twinkie holds up the megaphone and addresses everyone watching in their cars and on the street.) Twinkletoes Tiwilliger (TT): To all my Twinkies, loyal citizens of the Twinkletoed Nation, we are today to celebrate victories. Today, I celebrate my victory in the battle royal to crown the first DERP Steel City Champion. Because of this victory I become the first man in history to wear this belt (holds up DERP Steel City Championship with his other hand). But that is not the only victory i am here to celebrate. I am also here to celebrate the triumph of the spirit over adversity. I celebrate the victory of one man, considered too small to make it in the sport of professional wrestling, against near impossible odds. The smallest man in the ring surrounded by fat gigantic slobs, somehow managed to be the last man standing in that ring. This is a victory not just for me, but for tiny wrestlers everywhere in the sport i love. This victory is for those who lack in size and stature who make up for in the strength of their will and the ferocity of their character, who do whatever they have to to make the impossible possible so that they may achieve their goals and live their dreams! In this victory is not only for those who never given the support the needed but made it on their ability and merit, but also for those who never got the support because they had no merit of ability to begin with, so in short this victory is also for you, The Twinkletoed Nation. (At this point, car horns start honking, as people in their vehicles and on the street begin cursing at Twinkletoes and tell him to get out of the intersection) (TT): Hear me out my Twinkies and do not get lost in the enthusiasm for which you express your adoration of me. My victories are your victories, as you vicariously live through me. You may not be able to change the stark depression and general futility that constitute your existence, but you can cheer for someone who can. You have chosen to show me your undying support and blind loyalty to me in my endeavours. As as result i have the strength to both stand up to and prevail against all the fat out of shape slobs that DERP had chosen to throw against me. Though being fat and out of shape slobs yourself, you can claim this victory for yourselves as if you were in the ring by my side as i fought those fat and out of shape slobs. (The crown starts to turn ugly as people begin to throw things and begin to leave their cars to get in the face of the big little man. Before the situation turns hostile, the blaring sound of a siren is heard and the people clear off the streets to make way for the arrival of a policeman riding a motorcycle.) Policeman: everyone stay calm and remain where you are, this situation will be dealt with. You sir, the driver of the vehicle, license and registration please. Elbitz; Elbitz nose bleed rice hands ! Elbitz duh kling of rocket hole! Policeman: What did you just say? (takes out his ticket book)Not only am i going to charge you for obstruction of traffic, but i? going to charge you with driving without a licence, and threatening a police officer, at least i think you threatened me. Umm, what are you ,ladies, drinking? Red haired Twinkette: Hey guy, want fun, have drink! Black haired Twinkette: Hey guy, 30 dollar show good time! (starts making out with the red haired Twinkette. Onlooking mothers shield the eyes of their children) Policeman(writing more tickets): Oh this is rich, obstruction of traffic, driving without licences, public intoxication, and solicitation of a police officer for sex. Hey is that a joint? Wow the felonies keep coming! I? going to need some id from all of you. Blonde Twinkette: Hey guy, here is id . (lifts up top and exposes her chest, nothing can be seen as thier are pixellated squares where her breasts would be. The other Twinkettes follow suit as they stand up and lift their tops, shaking their pixellated breasts for everyone to see. They whoop and holler as they do so.) Policeman (writing yet another ticket): ...And Public nudity. Cover up ya damn crack-whores, children are watching! TT: Sir, how dare you use such language! I demand that you apologize to these young ladies, they are not crack-whores, they are my backup dancers! Policeman: Backup dancers, for your fat ass!?! That’s UN-fucking believable! Why don´t you shut up pal. Your friends here are going to jail, do you want to join them? TT: Don´t you talk to me that way and don´t don´t mock me for being skinny! My name is Twinkletoes Tiwilliger and I am the reigning DERP Steel City Champion, and you sir, are interrupting my victory parade! Policeman (with a total look of confusion): Skinny? Parade? There’s been no parade scheduled here- oh the hell with it, youre all going down town! (goes over to motorcycle and picks up what appears to be the handset of a cb radio). This is Adam 12, i need a paddy-waggon and a tow truck sent to Lawrenceville. Don´t ask me why, you gotta see this for yourselves. (The policeman head back to the car where he begins to read Twinkie and his entourage their rights and write even more tickets. Fade to black) ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 10 - RIC BEAUTY ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ [Ric Beauty stands outside PNC Park, home of the woefully bad Pittsburgh Pirates baseball team] RIC BEAUTY: I suppose I have a lot in common with this franchise. You see the Pirates haven't had a winning season since the first George Bush was president. And it is starting to seem that way with me here in DERP. So close, but close only counts in horseshoes. [Ric ponders...] Maybe I should bash the next guy over the head with a horseshoe? Oh wait, the next guy is Joshua Black. Mr. Anti-Hardcore, Mr. I'm Better Than You Because I Am A Straight Up Wrestler. You want a "wrestling" match so the whole horseshoe thing is out. But Josh, I am one hell of a wrestler. Now I don't mind picking up a chair, or putting you through a table but I was trained as a wrestler. And on the mat I am one of the best. But - [Ric shakes his head, and pulls out his iPhone] I see on this thing your manager yapping about Tracy Hudson. Normally I would be offended, but I can see why you are overlooking me Josh. Like these guys [pointing over his shoulder to the home of the Pirates] I can't buy a win. [Ric ponders, you know, just flat out bribing a referee, but he gets back to business, times are bad right now and Ric just ain't got the cash to bribe a referee] Josh, come into our match worried about Hudson, or Wilkes and that GNAW belt. Well Josh, you and I are going to have a wrestling match, and I am going to do something the Bad News Pirates can't seem to pull off. A win. Yes Josh I am going to win. Laugh if you like, but I am going to win. [fade, with those uncertain words hanging in the air with PNC Park looming, home of the losers, over Ric like a dark cloud.] ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 11 - TRACY HUDSON ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ [Fade in to a wrestling ring in the middle of what looks like a warehouse. Behind the ring stands a row of cheap metal bleachers sitting on a cement floor that has no doubt seen better days. Speaking of seeing better days, the canvas mat of the ring is well worn and well-used as well. Various stains from shoe soles, sweat, blood, and other detritus cover the floor in a chaotic tableau. In the center of the ring is a faded logo which reads, "SCHOOL OF KNOCKS" Here, we slowly zoom in on the ring. As we close in on it, we begin to hear Tracy Hudson's voice, doing voiceover.] HUDSON: See that ring? That's my ring. [We swing over to one of the corners of the ring now, where we finally see the face behind the voice. Hudson is clad in workout gear, consisting of a pair of black Everlast boxing trunks and a black sleeveless t-shirt resplendent with the logo for punk rock legends Crass. He slowly tugs the top rope as he faces the camera now.] HUDSON: I grew up in this ring. I took my first steps right here. My dad taught me the craft right here. My older brothers and I would settle our childhood differences right here. We've had this school for over two decades now. And there've been a lot of truly great wrestlers who've stepped into this ring. Guys like Alexander Bennington...Danny Janssen...My Dad and brothers...Hell, a lot of people don't know this, but I even helped train a guy named Gibson Hayes. And finally, you have me. [Having tightened the rope to his satisfaction, he begins to jog in place, bouncing against the ropes.] HUDSON: And before we go any further, I know exactly what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Well, I know the Hayes Brothers sure. But who the hell are the other guys?" And you're right. No matter how great they were, those others did their bit for this sport, they fought the wars, and suffered for it just as we all do. And like me, they faded away not as legends...but as quirky little footnotes. Nice, don't you think? [Hudson bounces faster now, as he grows more excited. He begins to smile widely now.] HUDSON: Except that it isn't nice. It's not nice for me. As I've already said, I'm not a legend. Never will be. [Hudson holds up a finger, as if to say, "Ah-HA! Not so fast] HUDSON: BUT! And this is a HUGE but...But while I may not be one of the greats, I can tell you all this much. You may be able to pin me... ...And you MIGHT be able to get me to tap out. Or knock me the hell out... But you will never... ...EVER... ...Beat me. [Hudson quickly shakes his head and lets out a quick facepalm.] HUDSON: It also helps to know this as well- I may not be a legend. I'm certainly not even in the discussion. [Hudson winks at the camera.] HUDSON: But that's okay! Neither are you. [Hudson now waves the camera away.] HUDSON: Now, if you don't mind...I gotta work out. *muttering* jesus...i never had to work out like this before. ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*^*^*^*^ 12 - NERD POWER COLLECTIVE ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*^*^*^*^ [We find ourselves in the backstage. To be precise, we're in the locker room of the DERP arena. However, you'll note that we're not near the lockers themselves. Actually, we're near the toilet stalls. Leaning against the side of the row of stalls is none other than Player 2. He sits on the floor, with a baseball mitt and ball in his hands. He bounces the ball against the wall opposite him.] *THOCK!* [Hark! A voice comes from one of the closed toilet stalls.] VOICE IN STALL: BLAAAAAARGH! HUAAAAAAGH! *splash* [P2 catches the ball and throws it back.] *THOCK!* VOICE IN STALL: Uggggh...little pal? could you stop doing that...? it's too loud. P2: wait. that's my line. [P2 catches the ball and throws it back yet again...inconsiderate bastard.] *THOCK!* P1: c'mon, little pal? please? P2: better. you got it. [He catches the ball, and removes his glove. He places the mitt beside him on the floor.] P2: you okay? P1: yeah. i think i...no...wait... FLAAAAAAAAAARG! P1: ...guess not. P2: well, as long as you learned something from this. P1: Yeah. I sure did... P2: oh? what is it? P1: I learned...I learned that...Oh! I learned that eating pizza sitting on the street doesn't heal you. It just makes you...BLUUUUUUUUUUUUAHG! *plop* P2: [Shaking his head] no...i was hoping you learned a little something about what happens when ambition trumps ability. P1: ...What's that even mean!? P2: it means we got our asses kicked. again. P1: Yes! But that's okay, little pal! Don't be sad! P2: oh god...why should i not be sad, then? P1: Think about it, chum! We never die, for one thing. Or haven't you noticed that every time we get really hurt, we respawn in the locker rooms here? [P2's head drops low, shaking from side to side in disbelief.] P2: ... P1: Also, think of the XP we're getting! With each match, we get stronger and stronger until BOOM! We unleash the full power of the ten hit combo on their stupid butts! Oh yeah! They'll all be scared of us then! P2: ...why? why do you test me like this, lord? P1: And then of course, we must fight! For everlasting peace! Especially in the triple threat match! [P2 suddenly twitches spasmodically.] P2: triple threat match? what's that mean? P1: Oh! Well, it's just like a normal tag team match. Nothing too terrible. P2: *relieved sigh* P1: Except for the extra team. P2: [bangs his head against the wall and begins to put his mitt back on.] that's it. i'm getting out of here. i'm going to tunnel under the arena and escape to new york. [Player 2 resumes throwing his baseball against the wall.] *THOCK!* *THOCK!* P1: ...You have a tunnel here? [Fade out.] ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 13 - TYRONE HEAT ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ [Scene: Exterior view, urban. Must be Pittsburgh. It's a cool day as summer turns to autumn and a lone figure in a gray sweatsuit jogs to a stop before the camera. Hair shaved in three streaks for a mohawk/reverse mohawk combination, dark as hell skin, this is probably Tyrone Heat. Y'know, unless Mr. T. somehow de-aged like 40 years. Eyes somber, he looks into the camera and puts the palms of his hands on his hips.] TH: Finally done lost my first match in DERP. It was bound to happen. Atmosphere like this it's the man with the least care that comes out on top and I honestly believe that that piece of trash Donovan O'Reily doesn't give a shit about anybody or anything. It's just a good thing that idiot's got wrestling in his life or he might just be a serial killer. Need to figure out what he drives ... I know he sleeps in his car... [Heat looks around himself at all the parked cars in the area. Sadly, none of them looks lived in.] TH: If I'd killed that son of a bitch I'd feel bad. I don't think he'd feel the same way if he'd had the good fortune to finish me off once and for all. Guess we'll have to settle that score at a future day. This week, I got other fish to fry. Some goofballs pretendin' to be barn animals snatch up the straps for tag glory. Good for them. They seem like nice enough cats but they ain't got enough of a mean streak. Worse still ... they don't got enough friends. So Delaney, boss of the year-- [Please note the sarcastic tone.] TH: --that he is decides to get involved personally. That right there is some stupid shit that should never happen. Am I the only person in this place that is sick of the boss gettin' physically involved? So I got two options; either take him out myself just so I don't have to watch this whole mess unfold or take his place in the mix. Three if you count just watchin' it happen but I think we all know that ain't my style. [Scowling, Heat starts walking, still looking in car windows. The camera backs up to keep a bead on him. Tyrone speaks under his breath.] TH: Son of a bitch has got to be around here. This is the only spot downtown with free parking! [Yes, he's still looking for O'Reily.] TH: So this ... "Perfectly Perfect Duo" of dumb-ass punks thinks they can just make themselves known and take what belongs to someone else? Somebody's got a belt and your pants are too loose, you rip it off their waist and be done with it? How about I take my belt off and whip you with it? [Note: Tyrone is not wearing a belt. Again; sweats.] TH: And Manning? Since the livestock got your pretty partners, I guess that leaves me and that leaves you ... to be my bitch. It ain't personal-- Fuck that, y'know what? Yes, yes it is personal! You think you can just walk in and take what you want you sorry sack of crap? One problem ... everybody wants it. Everybody wants a damned strap in this business! Usually, when someone like you and your ass-bitches oozes out of the walls everybody just goes about their business like nothin's changed but it has. You changed it. The "Perfectly Perfect Alliance" wants to rule DERP? Here's some news for ya; so do I. The big difference between us? I can actually _do it_! I can rain hell down on people like you, burn you up in the gasoline of your sins and send you packin'! The fans will see the horrors that I have wrought and BEG for more for when God gets bored dolin' out his vengeance, let me tell you, I _will_ take up the slack! I don't give a great God damn about you, Manning, but I sure as hell could do with an example to remind people that, momentary lapse in domination to Oscar the Grouch aside, I am the force to be feared in Pittsburgh, son! You will believe and HELL! WILL! REIGN! [Coming to the end of a line of cars, Heat resumes jogging, passing the cameraman and disappearing from the scene. End.] ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ 14 - PERFECTLY PERFECT ALLIANCE ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ [It's early evening, the sun is about to set, and the Perfectly Perfect Alliance are all standing in front of the DERP Arena. Before them? A funeral wreath. Around the wreath? A black sash with "Delaney's Extreme Rasslin' Promotion" spelled out across it in cursive. Max and Lance Studd are on one side of the wreath, Omar and Josh Manning are on the other.] O: Gentlemen, were are here today to pay our respects... to a dead fuckin' promotion. [To that, the Studd brothers smirk and giggle like mischievous kids throwing paper from the back of the classroom.] O: And for that, none other than Ryan Delaney is to blame. Why, you ask? Well, you see, his ignorance... is our bliss. You can bring forth all the violent, bloodthirsty brawlers you want... you can call upon these misfits from all the different ass cracks of the Earth all you want... but guess what? You forgot that you were pitting them up against three of the best fuckin' _wrestlers_ in the world, Goddamn it. See, y'all can break all the tables you want... y'all can do all the flippy suicidal shit you feel like doin'... but you can't out-wrestle the Perfectly Perfect Duo and you can't out-wrestle Josh Manning. Not by a fuckin' long shot. JM: Here's the thing, Omar... nobody knows what the fuck they're talking about anymore. Everybody's walking around, all-smiles, drinking beer, Delaney's giving out free fucking tickets like it's nothing... apparently, DERP is thriving. However, nobody's taking notice... nobody's peeped the wolves lurking around the corner, ready to slaughter the whole damn pig village. I don't know about you boys, but I'm in the mood for some chorizo. Anyway... this is the moment, boys and girls. We've been biding our time... and now's the time to attack. Now's the time to blow the fucking houses down. Now's the time to whip that ass into Sausage McMuffins and apple wood bacon! This is the moment where the Perfectly Perfect Alliance will out-wrestle and out-match your so-called "heroes" because that's what we _do_. Oh, and don't worry... your little midget friends won't be there to save your asses this time. Believe me. It's simple mathematics, boys. Lance and Max? They're legends in this business. They've won about ten thousand tag team titles. They've won titles they don't even know about yet! And me? [Manning strokes his beard, which he's been letting grow a considerable amount.] JM: Well, either God couldn't have produced a better son or I really need to make sure Rachel McAdams got those letters... regardless, I'm the shit... and there's nothing you can do about that, Tyrone "Trash Bag Baby" Heat. LS: We're ready to "take the trash out," so to speak. Are we not, gentlemen? [A curt nod from the other three members of the PPA.] LS: All I've heard since we came to this shithole of a league is how "DERP owns this" and "DERP kills that." I see that as complete and utter bullshit on Ryan Delaney's part. Want to know why? Because Ryan Delaney is a liar. He is. [Lance looks to the other three, the wreath and them back into the camera.] LS: A pathetic, fucking liar. He said he wouldn't get involved in the "action" in DERP. He said he would sit back and keep his hardcore, has been ass out of the ongoing feuds and matches. But he didn't. That old bastard must be losing his mind even more than we thought. [A grin.] LS: Delaney put his crooked nose in where he shouldn't have. He fucked with those he should _never_ have. He put his nose in _our_ business because of the embarrassment he suffered upon his crucifixion and the birth of the PPA in GNAW. But I'll be God damned if we are going to sit back and let it go. We're too well bred of a group to let that happen. We will easily defeat Cow, Chicken and that ass pirate, Tyrone Heat. MS: Watch and see, Delaney. Go sit in your crappy office, watch your piece of junk black and white television in the back and you will see first hand how the Perfectly Perfect Alliance _will_ be the ones to exterminate DERP. LS: We may not even have to eliminate DERP. I do believe that Delaney is doing it himself. After all, when your tag team champions are called Cow... and Chicken? That's pretty fuckin' sad. MS: Rest in peace, DERP. [They pay their respects one more time to the wreath. Out.] ______________________________________________________ THOUGHTS? REACTIONS? SPEAK YOUR MIND RIGHT HERE: http://z13.invisionfree.com/DERP_Forum/index.php?showforum=4