______________________________ | ___ _______ ___ | | / _ \/ __/ _ \/ _ \ | | / // / _// , _/ ___/ | | /____/___/_/|_/_/ | | | | PROUDLY | | ....PRESENTS.... | | | | ...THE HAUS SHOW REPORT... | | VOLUME 5 | | | | DATE: August 31st, 2011 | | WRITTEN BY: Tyler Terrapin | |____________________________| So, here we are, haus show report volume _FIVE_; the very first DERP haus show with all the newly crowned champions! While the DERP STEEL CITY CHAMPION, Twinkletoes Twilliger, will be in action on haus show number six, tonight the DERP fans will CERTAINLY see the DERP STEEL CITY TAG TITLES on the line, and rumors has it that Bullzeye has been spotted around the arena, making sure to fulfill his contractual duty as the DERP 24/7 CHAMPION to be present at every DERP show! Can the DERP rookie manage to hold onto the title for the entire evening? Keep on reading and let's find out! But first things first, as the BBQ wound down and the fans started piling into the arena, they very quickly got a very good reason to hurry up and get to their seats.... as the DERP projectors fire up, providing the means for tonight's first broadcast!!! *^*^*^*^*^*^*^* ON THE SCREENZ *^*^*^*^*^*^*^* [Shot opens up in the DERP locker room, off to the one corner where the DART~! students call home. Currently in the midst of a heated discussion is Mickey Ripdeck, Masnoto Tanacho and "Nuts" Baloney. All three men have a steel chair in hand.] BALONEY: So, are we all on the same game plan? We know exactly what to do, right? [Both Ripdeck and Baloney nod.] BALONEY: Good, because Delaney's been ignoring us for over a month now, as if we are old news... creatures that don't matter! He will soon see how much we matter! Troops, fall out! [With little fanfare, the trio exits the room, with the camera in tow. They walk down a small little railway, to where it ends, and there's a door on the right and left. Left is labeled "THE CAVE" and the right is labeled "SAUNA" Ripdeck slowly opens the sauna door... and then on three... the trio charges!!! The camera moves quickly, not wanting to miss any of the action! Soon as the camera hits the doorway, all it can see is a half dressed DERP 24/7 Champion Bullzeye ducking swings of the chair, and fighting for his life! Bullzeye doesn't duck Ripdeck's latest attempt, he instead grabs the chair, kicks Ripdeck in the gut, and bends the chair over his cranium! Bullzeye must have eyes in the back of his head, as he ducks Tanacho's swing for the fences, and comes up swinging... connecting with Baloney's cranium, sending the 300 pounder stumbling forward... and up over the side of the sauna! Baloney swings again, as Bullzeye does two... CLLLLAAANG! The chairs connect, but Bullzeye's faster on swing two, sending Baloney stumbling into the sauna as well! Breathing hard and visibly pissed off, Bullzeye grabs his shirt and his DERP 24/7 Title, and exits the room, muttering "stupid kids".... as the camera cuts away, revealing... ...DERP's resident junkie... Er, interviewer, Foodstamp, stands in front of a cheaply-made DERP banner. In his right hand, he holds his trusty microphone. And in his left hand, he holds... a cattle branding iron? He looks at it just as curiously as everyone else is, turning it so the three-letter "MOO" brand can be seen by the camera.] Foodstamp: I'm supposed to interview... this? DCGM: You are indeed an odd man, Stampy. [From off-screen steps "Da Cow God"...] DCGM: Moo. [...dressed in his full ring attire, black pants spotted with white to match his black-with-bleached-white-spots hair. Over his broad right shoulder rests the DERP Steel City Tag Team Championship belt. He reaches out with his left hand and takes the "MOO" branding iron from everyone's favorite, um, junkie.] Foodstamp: You're calling _me_ odd? [Moo nods.] DCGM: Thank you for holding my new toy for me. It was indeed handy during the battle royal two weeks ago. But it will not be making any comments this fine evening. Foodstamp: Congratulations on being a former Twenty-Four Seven Champion, by the way. [Moo shrugs.] DCGM: The title that's important to me is right here... [He pats the Steel City Tag Team Title on his shoulder.] DCGM: ... it's the Chicken who was more concerned with winning more than these. Foodstamp: Um... where is the Chicken, anyway? DCGM: He's preparing his present for our new friend tonight... [Before "Da Co... Er, Moo can even say the name of the man who saved the Steel City Tag Team Champions from the Perfectly Perfect Alliance ... into the screen steps the "Trashman" Tyrone Heat. And he does not look happy to see his tag team partner for the evening.] DCGM: ... [Moo stares at Heat.] TH: *Grunt.* [Heat stares at Moo.] TH: What the hell now, man? I don’t know if I even wanna know what the hell your partner is up to but if this is some kind of trick-- DCGM: The Chicken does not play tricks, Mr. Heat. I'm sure you've noticed that he is rather juvenile at heart... his intentions are noble and sincere. He believes in rewarding those who assist our goals... [Moo nods his head appreciatively.] DCGM: ... as do I. TH: Yeah yeah, just remember, I took on those punks ‘cause they were trying to fuck you and chicken man over. I smell a rat and both of you are goin’ in the dumpster with the soup bones. DCGM: Rats are a sacred creature in some parts of the world, Mr. Heat. But unlike my bovine brethren, they do not taste delicious and fulfilling. I would not recommend drinking their milk, and they do not produce nutrious eggs for consumption. They are not truly worthy of worship, unlike our noble cattle and poultry companions. [Heat stares at Moo like he's out of his mind. And he's probably not wrong.] DCGM: I assure you, Mr. Heat... the only rats in the ring tonight will be the three men standing across the ring from you and I. And they, Mr. Heat... they indeed belong in the dumpster where rats deserve to reside. Whom better to assist us in that goal than the Trashman himself? [Beat. Heat blinks, scratching the scalp between his triple (regular plus reverse) mohawk.] TH: Man, you crazy or just stupid? [Moo shrugs.] DCGM: I've been called worse, my friend. But does the answer truly matter? I will do what I do best tonight... I will beat the Moo hell out of the Alliance. And I expect you will do the same. TH: Look man, whatever, just remember... I ain’t doin’ this for no reason than to teach them punks some respect. You think my partner Denny and me wouldn't like to take a whack at those title belts of yours? Yeah, but we got to wait our turn, and so does this "Duo". I’m gonna help you boys out but after that... understand, when hell rains, it rains on you. Now let’s take out the trash. [We cut back to the ring.] *^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^* SCREENS RETURN TO DERP LOGO *^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^* While all that commotion was going on, Kian Konga was rolled to the ring on his gurney, properly secured with restraints. The were removed one by one, as Konga began to stretch, eager for the onslaught to begin. "Burning Hell" by the Brainbombs rips over the public announce system, escorting Donovan O'Reily through the entrance curtain in a spinning frenzy of flailing fists, the DERP cooler slung over his shoulder flying wildly. He looks dizzy and perhaps drunk, ending his spastic dance routine somewhere mid-aisle where he curses out and spits at obnoxious and unappreciative ringside goofs, while proceeding to get himself a brewski from the sixer in the DERP cooler. O'Reily raises his fists to the Heavens but gets roundly booed for his efforts. Scoffing, he continues toward the ring, drinking his brew as he goes, continuing to heckle the fans the entire way. With a full one in his hand, Donovan approaches the ring, as the bell rings... *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* | | | BE PREPARED FOR SOME VIOLENCE! | | | | DONOVAN O'REILY | | vs | | "NIHILIST WAR MONGREL" KIAN KONGA | | | *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* Konga, freed from his restraints, doesn't waste much time and immediately stomps his way to the center of the ring. O'Reily stands there, taking the last drag on his cig before flinging it into the crowd, and hands Konga fresh brewski, as O'Reily knocks his back some?!?! Konga stares at the can, and then back at O'Reily, unsure of what to do it seems. Laughing, O'Reily models how to drink a beer, with Konga eagerly watching... OR PERHAPS NOT!!! Konga just smashes the full can of beer over O'Reilys head... again and again until the can explodes, and O'Reily on one knee, forehead already busted open in this one! "The Nihilist War Mongrel" doesn't take his foot off the gas, immediately knocking O'Reily the rest of the way to the mat with a stiff knee shot... following it instantly with a falling headbutt! And while on the mat... Konga decides he must be a bit hungry, and just bites O'Reily's forehead, digging in right where O'Reily's busted right open! The ref doesn't waste anytime, immediately pulling Konga off O'Reily. As Konga stands, his mouth is covered in blood, as if he was some vampire. O'Reily rolls himself out of the ring, hand to his forehead, dazed and highly confused. Konga's caretaker advises Kian to stay on the offensive, and the former Paradise champion does that! He exits the ring on the near side, runs on the apron... and flips himself over the turnbuckles... TOPE CON HILO!!! NOOOOOO!!! O'REILY CATCHES THE MUCH SMALLER KONGA!!! CRUCIFIX POWERBOMB ON THE FLOOR!!! O'Reily just lays Konga out, and despite not enjoying his attitude, the crowd totally dug that move right there! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! Seeing that Konga is not moving anytime soon, O'Reily elects to start digging underneath the ring, trying to find what goodies Delaney has stashed for the fun and games this evening. Instinctly, O'Reily first pulls out a table, and leans it on the guardrail. He then turns around, digging back underneath the ring, finding himself a small leather bag, which he instantly tosses into the ring, as he grabs the table and slides that into the ring as well! And then before its all said and done, O'Reily peels Konga off the floor and rolls him into the ring! Typically, that means O'Reily would follow, but no! He instead takes a moment to steal a fan's beer at ringside, chugging it an impressive speed before entering the ring himself! Back in the ring, O'Reily finds Kian moving a bit, trying to at least get to a kneeling position. This doesn't sit well with Donovan, who picks up the table... and suplexes it right onto Konga! It connects with a thud to Konga's dome, sending the "War Mongrel" back to the mat. O'Reily proceeds then to sit up the table, pretty much in the center of the ring, and then grab that leather bag... and proceeds to dump THUMBTACKS all over the table! A scattered applause rings out, as O'Reily grabs Konga by the arm and pulls him to his feet and close to the table! First order of business, O'Reily slams Kian face first off the table! Tacks instantly embedded in Konga's face! O'Reily does it again, forcing those tacks deeper and accumulating even more! Then Donovan proceeds to lock Konga in a full nelson, but he's not looking to make him submit, he's looking for the GHETTO STOMP, a full nelson bomb! O'Reily whips Konga back and forth like a rag doll, arguing back and forth with a fan in a lucha libre mask! And then, with a sick smile on his face, Donovan lifts Konga, almost throws him into the air.... AND WITH A PUSH OFF THE TABLE, KONGA FLIPS UP AND OVER! Donovan stumbles forward and catches the table chest first, before turning around! Konga lands on his feet, and doesn't give Donovan much of a chance, immediately leaping into the air with a dropkick! That stops Donovan right in his tracks, and "the Nihilist War Mongrel" whips O'Reily into the corner, chest first! Konga approaches from behind... BELL CLAP ON THE BIG MAN!!! Taking a moment to breath, Konga proceeds to pull the table a bit closer to the corner, and then focus right back on O'Reily, giving him a few nasty elbow shots to the back of the head, as Donovan tries to get his breath back after having the wind knocked out of him. With a bit of a push, Konga gets Donovan to climb up the middle rope, as he himself exits to the apron, and climbs the turnbuckles from there, getting to the top before grabbing Donovan's head, looking for almost a front face jawbreaker!?!? NOOOO!!! KONGA DOES A BACK FLIP, HOLDING ONTO O'REILY'S HEAD!!! TOP ROPE SHIRANUI... THRU THE TACK COVERED TABLE!!!! THE DERP ARENA JUST EXPLODES!!! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! HARD FUCKING CORE! Finally, some signs of life in Konga, as he drapes the arm across O'Reily's chest... 1... 2...... SHOULDER UP!!! [HOW THE HELL AINT HE DEAD HEEL POP!] And that fans cannot believe it! Somehow O'Reily instinctly kicked out there! He's gotta be running on just alcohol fumes after taking a shot like that! Konga climbs out of the rubble, tacks sticking out of his skin as well. He makes eye contact with his caretaker, asking first for a chair and then motioning for another table to be slid into the ring! But that doesn't satisfy, Konga, he wants something else still! He just shouts the word "SHARP!", causing the proverbial light bulb to go off in the caretakers head, who immediately turns to the crowd.... and collects a few beer bottles! He rolls them into the ring, as Konga pulls O'Reily out of the broken table, and whips him hard into the chair Kian just set up in the middle of the ring. He then grabs the three bottles, and walks up to O'Reily, a devilish smile plastered all over Konga's face. He takes a bottle by the neck and winds up... CRRRRAAAASSSHH! He just smashes it all over O'Reily's already bloody face! He grabs the second one by the neck.... CRRRAAAAAAASSSSHHHHH! He smashes another one right over O'Reily's head.... he grabs the third one... NOO!!! O'Reily grabs it right out of Konga's hand..... CRRRAAAAAASSSSHHHHH! He smashes it over his own head, as he kicks Konga in the gut..... PULLING PILEDRIVER RIGHT ON ALL THAT BROKEN GLASS! O'Reily hooks the leg! 1... 2.. KICKOUT! O'Reily grunts with displeasure, but remains on task, choosing to lean the table Konga brought into the ring against the turnbuckles in the corner. He then grabs the chair, folds it back up..... SMMMMAAAACKKK!!! He just whacks Konga right across the back with the chair, forcing the "War Mongrel" back to the mat, as O'Reily places the chair on his head, bounces of the ropes... LEG DROP!!! O'Reily grimaces, as he gets back to his feet, having taken some punishment with that one as well, but to him, it was all so worth it! Donovan wastes little time, pulling the bloody Konga to his wobbly feet, and making sure their in close proximity to the table in the corner. Again, with that "I love hurting people!" smile, Donovan grips Konga up in a bear hug... He just squeezes away, against taunting the crowd! And with one quick move..... OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!!! AND KONGA GOES RIGH THROUGH THAT TABLE IN THE CORNER!!! There's a mixture of applause for the violent nature of the move, and a round of boo's because it's O'Reily doing the violence! With Konga seemingly buried under broken pieces of table, Donovan makes the cover! 1... 2...... Out of no where... "The Saints Are Coming" by The Skids hits the arena PA, causing Donovan to sit right up, breaking the pin attempt, as everyone's eyes turn towards the DERP rampway. "ALL ACTION" DENNY LATIMER steps from behind the curtain, a vaguely arrogant sneer on his lips. He slicks back what's left of his hair, as the crowd just goes wild!!! Donovan stands right up, and immediately begins to jaw right at Donovan! Latimer slowly makes his way to the ring, smiling and laughing as he slaps the fans hands, but never really taking his eyes off O'Reily. He nears the ring, as the music finally dies, with O'Reily jawing away as Latimer continues the stare down... AS KONGA GETS BEHIDN O'REILY... BELLY TO BACK SUPLEX!!! What incredibly strength by Konga there, gettin the bigger man up and over!!! The crowd goes wild, as Denny walks around the ringside area, talking to the fans, keeping an eye on the action inside the ring... he's also managed to snag O'Reily's beer cooler at ringside, having it slung over his shoulder! In the ring, Konga tries to stay on the offensive, going to pull O'Reily up from the mat.... AND CATCHES A LOW BLOW FOR HIS EFFORTS!!! O'Reily quickly gets up, grabs both Konga's arms...... DOUBLE ARM DDT!!! O'Reily makes the cover, turning to stare at Latimer...... WHO JUST CRACkS ONE OF O'REILY'S BEERS!!!!! 1... LATIMER BEGINS POURING IT OUT ON TEH GROUND!!! 2...... HE KEEPS ON POURING IT, SMILING AS O'REILY GROWS ENRAGED..... 3!!!!!!! AND O'REILY IMMMEDIATLY CHARGES OUT OF THE RING!!!! *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* | | | WINNER: Donovan O'Reily | | | | FINISH: Double Arm DDT | | | *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* He gets right in Latimer face, ripping the beer can out of Denny's hand. He quickly chugs what is ever left, the two men just staring eye to eye, standing nose to nose. Latimer says something to O'Reily, and with a smirk, turns and walks away, trying to be the bigger man!?!? BUT ALL IT DOES IS ENRAGE O'REILY MORE!!! Latimer gets five feet away, as Donovan runs after him! He quickly catches up, as the fans jeer, trying to somehow get Latime to stop and turn around.... Donovan lunges and grabs Denny!!! [STRONGER THAN THE EARTHQUAKE FACE POP!] DENNY MUSTA' HEARD THE BIG MAN COMING!!! Out of now where, right as O"Reily got there...... SUPERKICK FROM HELLL!!! O'Reily's stopped dead in his tracks, as Latimer walks up, and ask O'Reily if he wants his cooler back?!?! Donovan might try to respond, but he seems out on his feet..... AS LATIMER SWINGS THE COOLER.... AND CONNNECTS!!!! The big man falls in the guardrail with a heavy thud, pushing the guardrail a few feet. Security finally hits the ring, as Latimer walks around, broken hand raised in the air, the fans going wild... DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! DEN-KNEE! Latimer gets to the back, as the security and O'Reily begin to find their way to the back... *^*^*^*^*^*^*^* ON THE SCREENZ *^*^*^*^*^*^*^* [The camera cuts to the... outside of the DERP Arena!?!? There we find Bullzeye, sitting, an angry looking plastered on his face, the DERP 24/7 Championship laid across his lap.. the camera begins to move in closer, Bullzeye still unaware of it's approach.... ...and then from screen right comes Fletcher, the manager of one of DERP's newest talents Bateman! Fletcher's loud enough, Bullzeye instantly hops to his feet and gets right into a fighting stance. Then he sees it's a near thirty old man with a handle bar mustache, with not a threatening bone in his overweight body. Bullzeye relaxes a bit, as Fletcher extends his hand... ...WHEN OUTTA NO WHERE COMES BATEMAN!!! He comes charging with a singapore cane, he swings at Bullzeye... who ducks out of the way, and Bateman catches Fletcher!!! Shocked, Bateman freezes, letting Bullzeye steal the cane right out of his hands!!! CRRRRRAACKKK! Cane shot for Bateman! CRRRRRAAAACKKK! Nother cane shot for Bateman, as Bullzeye drops it, preferring his DERP 24/7 title... AND WHACKS BATEMAN WITH THAT TOO!!! And he even steps on the DERP rookie, before walking off, as his attackers are barely moving...] *^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^* SCREENS RETURN TO DERP LOGO *^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^* Case you haven't caught onto the pattern by now, during most of those little DERP Projector Presentations the wrestlers for the next match make their way to the ring. That means while Bullzeye escaped again with his DERP 24/7 championship, Tracy Hudson made his way to the ring, with a bit more cheers than he received at the last house show. [Hudson asks for, and receives the microphone. He grips in his left hand as he rolls into the ring. He rolls to the center of the ring and immediately pops up to his feet, acknowledging the fans with a slight smile and nod.] HUDSON: Holy shit! Check out this crowd! I haven't seen a crowd this enthused since the last time McDonalds brought back the McRib! I mean, you guys just eat this stuff up, don't you? [INSERT RANDOM POP HERE!] HUDSON: Well, I'll tell you all what- You keep eating it...breathing it...living it. And I promise to keep on giving it to you! [Hudson smiles knowingly and nods.] HUDSON: Now, as for my opponent...Quinn...I know nothing about you, except for your size and power. And I gotta give you that: If you are in fact as big and strong as I hear, you'll definitely be able to throw me around no problem. [Hudson begins to pace back and forth as the time to fight draws closer.] HUDSON: And who knows? Give you enough time; give you enough experience, you could damn well become a legend in this sport, kiddo... ...But not here. And certainly NOT TODAY! [Hudson locks his gaze at the ring entrance now, beckoning for his opponent to come into the ring, as "Quinn the Eskimo" by Bob Dylan hits the airwaves, as the seven foot tall, four hundred pound, the Mighty Quinn!, flanked by his manager Bob Zimmerman. Everyone... mean.... EVERYONE seems caught off guard and very distrusting of the Mighty Quinn! He pays no attention, trying to slap as many fan's hands as he can. He rolls under the bottom rope, and stands up, towering over Hudson. Tracy takes a deep breath, going over the game plan he better have for fighting someone so huge..] *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* | | | DOUBLE DEBUT MATCH | | | | THE MIGHTY QUINN! | | vs | | TRACY HUDSON | | | *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* The Mighty Quinn! and Tracy meet in the center of the ring, Tracy's eyes coming up to Quinn's breasts. Quinn just laughs, as Tracy gives the Eskimo a nasty chop. Tracy goes to give him another one, and Quinn just grabs his hand and begins to squeeze, and squeeze and squeeze some more... but then... V/O: REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH! [With that sentence, The opening cords to Marilyn Manson's "Personal Jesus" began to play over the sound system and the lights die down a bit causing everyone in the DERP Arena, including the two men and the ref in the ring, to stare at the rampway, wondering what the hell's going on. The crowd came alive with a mixture of booing and cheering due to both the darkness and musical selection.] ## Your own personal Jesus ## Someone to hear your prayers ## Someone who cares ## Your own personal Jesus ## Someone to hear your prayers ## Someone who's there [A small pretty faint spot light shot down from the top of the bleachers upon a figure standing in the aisle who is wearing a long black hooded robe. His face covered by the over sized hood with the only thing that could really be seen is a black beard.] ## Feeling unknown ## And you're all alone ## Flesh and bone ## By the telephone ## Lift up the receiver ## I'll make you a believer [Slowly the music began to fade...] ## Take second best ## Put me to the test ## Things on your chest ## That we need to confess ## I will deliver ## You know I'm a forgiver [The music finally went silent and the spotlight died right along with it engulfing the arena in darkness. The energy in the arena came back to life as the fans had to wait longer then they wanted.] WE WANT ACTION! WE WANT ACTION! WE WANT ACTION! [As the crowd continued to get restless the light came back on with the man in the robe still standing where he was before the arena went black. Only this time... He had a microphone held to his lips.] Robed Man: For those that can't be patient I say to you, it's a virtue... [A smirk could be seen growing across the bearded man.] Robed Man: A virtue that I myself don't really possess! So I'll get right to the fuckin' point. You all might be wondering just who the hell I am. Well, I'll make it real simple for you to remember. It's two words you'll never forget after tonight. Two words that will end up rolling off your tongues as you walk out those doors right over there. [He pointed in the direction of the doors to the warehouse before holding up two fingers to everyone in attendance. Which also included The Mighty Quinn! and Tracy Hudson who were both in the ring looking at the man standing in the aisle way. Both confused and wondering just what is going on.] Robed Man: Two words... Black... Jesus... It's fairly simple. But if that's to "unchristian" for you, then how about you just call me by my name, Ryan Faith! ["Black Jesus" flipped his hood back showing off his unusually familiar facial features. Shoulder length black hair parted in the middle, black beard complete with mustache, and black eye liner that made his baby blue eyes look like they were almost glowing. All in all when people looked at him they could think of only one person...] JESUS CHRIST!!! JESUS CHRIST!!! JESUS CHRIST!!! [Faith looked to the sky as his arms extended to his sides as if to embrace the fact people look at him like a religious symbol. His hands dropped back down before he slowly brought the mic back to his mouth.] "Black Jesus" Ryan Faith: Call me what you want! It doesn't matter to me. All that matters to me right here and now is to make some noise. And to make you... [Pointed to Quinn]... and you... [Pointed to Hudson]... learn my name real quick like. Because sooner rather then later my name is going to be known, and I'll be making believers out of everyone. [He paused.] Faith: So, the inks dry... I've got the okay from Ryan Fucking Delaney... This one on one match of yours, well, it just became a three way dance! [Ryan's shoulders rolled causing the robe to drop to his ankles revealing a pair of tights that could make the most religious person go weak in the knees. A pair of black tights that has a huge white cross on them with a glowing silhouette of Jesus crucified on that very cross. "Black Jesus" dropped the mic as he made his way to the ring while Hudson and Quinn! looked around in confusion.] *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* | | | TRIPLE DEBUT MATCH | | | | THE MIGHTY QUINN! | | vs | | TRACY HUDSON | | vs. | | "BLACK JESUS" RYAN FAITH | | | *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* Faith slides into the ring, and stands right in between both men, a devious smile on his face. He stares first at Hudson, and then Quinn! and then back at Hudson..... and charges at Quinn.... FRONT FLIP KICK!!! It catches the big man right in the chest, causing him to stumble back into the corner. Faith's not done at all, as he leaps to the top rope.... SPRINGBOARD LEG LARIAT!!! Now Quinn is really rocked, slumped against the turnbuckles, as the fans applaud the high impact moves thus far! Hudson is on the other side of the ring, clapping and nodding, enjoying Faith's enthusiasm. Faith sees him, and with a sneer, grabs Quinn and sends the big man running across the ring. Hudson just smiles, and leap frogs the big man. Quinn slams into the corner chest first, as Hudson grabs Quinn from behind.... RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP! He rolls over, picks him up and tries for another... BUT QUINN SHOWS LIFE!!! Two big elbows connect with Hudson's temple, followed by a big headbutt, which knocks Hudson to the mat and out of the ring. The fans cheer even louder as Quinn now looks across the ring and locks eyes with "Black Jesus"! Quinn stomps his way over, as Faith doesn't back down one bit, laying into Quinn with hard rights... BUT QUINN JUST GRABS FAITH'S HAND!!! He follows it with a big boot to Faith's gut.... followed by another one! He gives Faith a big headbutt, sending HIM out of the ring as well!!! The crowd roars, as the Mighty Quinn! stomps around the ring, pounding on his chest. On the outside, both Hudson and Faith, on opposite sides of the ring, are too their feet, taking their time, trying to get some sort of game plan together. Quinn taunts both me, just begging for ONE of them to get into the ring! As if somehow they're communicating by telepathic abilities, both men dive into the ring at the same time!!! Quinn gives Faith a stomp, and turns around laying a nasty roundhouse on Hudson! The big man turns around, and grabs Faith by the arm... and whips him across the ring.... RIGHT INTO HUDSON! Both men collide, knocking skulls! Hudson flops to the mat, as Faith falls onto the ring ropes! Quinn just walks over, and grabs the top rope.... and flings Faith to the mat! He drops a leg across his throat, and makes the cover on the "Black Jesus"... 1... SHOULDER UP!!! As Quinn gets to his feet, Hudson's also back to his! Quinn approaches.... drop toe hold!!! Using his momentum against him, Tracy smashes Quinn's face into the mat! He quickly follows with a... INDIAN DEATHLOCK!!!! Quinn might be the biggest man on a DERP roster, but he can still feel the pain of his legs being bent in ways they shouldn't! Tracy does all he can to make sure he's out of arms reach, and is torqueing Quinn's leg as much as he possibly can! Faith stirs and pushes himself to the upright position. Quinn continues to grunt and strain in obvious pain, trying to find a way to make it to the ropes, as Zimmerman shouts encouragement from ringside! But Quinn doesn't seem to be going anywhere, as Faith decides to let the fun continue in the ring, as he goes on a hunt... for a sign from the 'cowboy hat guy'! The fans seem as confused as I am, as Faith rolls into the ring, smiling as much as a man can be! Quinn has moved a few feet since the last time Faith was in the ring, but Hudson is STILL just torqueing that tree trunk of a leg! "Black Jesus" strides towards Quinn and Hudson, raising that sign that reads "USE MY SIGN!" high above his head...... AND BRINGS IT DOWN ON QUINN'S HEAD!!! The sign makes a weird 'twaps' sound, as Quinn falls flat to the mat, Hudson breaks the hold, fearing he's next... AND HE'S RIGHT!!! As Tracy scrambles to his feet, "Black Jesus" brings that sign down across Tracy's forehead, sending him sprawling back to the mat! Without hesitating, Faith lays the sign on Quinn and runs up the turnbuckles......... COCKSCREW PLANCHA ONTO QUINN WHO WAS COVERED BY THE SIGN!!! The crowd just explodes, as Faith flails on the mat, his back hurting much as Quinn's face probably! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! DERP! And Hudson leaps to his feet! He pulls Faith up, with a suplex... NO!! BACK BREAKER!!! Faith rolls right out the ring, clutching his back instantly, his face saying it all! Hudson grabs the sign, with a confused look on his face, and rips it... of!?!?!? ITS A STOP SIGN!!! Under neath some paper is a STOP SIGN!!! Now Faith is quite pleased, as he gives Quinn a whack with it, before hooking the tree trunk! 1... 2... SHOULDER UP! I'd say half the crowd is impressed the Mighty Quinn! got that shoulder up... the other half is pissed this isn't down to two men already! Hudson rises to his feet, staring at Quinn, who rolls over, perhaps following the voice of Zimmerman, who is just screaming at ringside for Quinn to wake up! Faith is up at ringside, and grabs two frying pans from the front row fans, one for each hand! Soon as he rolls into the ring, Hudson turns around..... and catches a frying pan!?!? Faith then points to Quinn, as Hudson nods, understanding now! The two men walk over to the big Eskimo, and pull him groggily to his feet. As the crowd roars understanding what's going to happen here, Tracy and Ryan move a few feet away from Quinn, Tracy on his right, Ryan on his left... The two men wind up, as Quinn just stands there....... TWWWWAAAAPP!!! DOUBLE FRYING PAN SHOT!!! But some how... Quinn doesn't fall over! He stumbles around a bit, but the almost eight foot giant remains upright! With the fans behind them it seems, the two men wind up again........ AND QUINN GRABS EACH OF THEM BY THE THROAT!!!! DOUBLE CHOKE SLAM OUT OF NOWHERE!!!!!!! Everyone in the arena is just stunned, and then just lets loose with approval, cheering at the top of their lungs! Now all three men are down in the ring, but Quinn's on his knees, not on the mat, trying to make the stars disappear like Hudson and Faith. Quinn pushes himself the rest of the way up to his feet, and turns towards Hudson first. He pulls the frying pan out of Tracy's hand, as he pulls the former WWO star to his feet and whips him into the ropes...... THWWWWAAAAPPPPP!!! QUINN BREAKS THE PAN OVER HUDSON'S HEAD!!! All the Eskimo is left holding is the handle, as Hudson's on the mat, not sure which ways up again. Per Zimmerman's instruction at ringside, now Quinn turns his attention to Faith, who's kneeling now... Quinn charges... PUNT KICK!!! He connects dead on with Faith's face, sending the DART~! graduate to the mat. Quinn then scoops "Black Jesus" up... AND MILITARY PRESSES HIM OVER HIS HEAD!!! The fans respond in delight, as Quinn continue to show off his impressive strength....... UNTIL HE TOSSES FAITH THREE ROWS DEEP!!!!! The fans cannot believe it! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! With Faith dealt with for the time being, Quinn turns his focus back onto Hudson, who's slightly moving now, bleeding from the nasty pan shot. Quinn doesn't hesitate pulling Hudson to his feet, only to drag him near the pan laying on the mat with a side headlock...... DDT! DDT! DD FUCKING T!!! He just spiked him on the pan! Quinn makes the cover! 1... 2... KICK OUT!!! [TALK ABOUT FUCKING TOUGH FACE POP!] As Hudson rises to his feet, unsure of what to try next, Faith flips himself over the guardrail, to the ringside area, still feeling the effects of that toss by Quinn. Tracy pulls Quinn to his knees..... AND TAKES HIM BACK DOWN TO THE MAT WITH A ROCKER DROPPER!!! But he's not done, choosing to lock on a single leg Boston crab!!! It's the same leg Hudson had earlier in the Indian Deathlock!! Instantly, Quinn who looked completely out of it, comes to live, face screaming full of pain! The ref gets right in the thick of things, making sure Quinn doesn't tap out! It has to be only a matter of time, as Hudson leans back as far as he can with that single leg crab... and now he's even slugging away at the bad leg with one shot after another! Hudson is doing all he can to get this big man to say he quits... Faith gets himself up on the apron, and watches Quinn doing all he can to fight his way to the ropes. Taking a moment to soak it all in, Faith uses the top rope, slingshots himself into the ring... SLINGSHOT LEGDROP ON QUINN! The commotion causes Quinn to force Hudson to break the hold! Quinn instantly grabs his leg, as Faith and Hudson both get to their feet. Faith, leaning against the one set of ropes, Hudson in the center of the ring... and charges Faith... WHO CATCHES HIM WITH AN ELBOW!!! Hudson stumbles back, as Faith pulls himself to the top rope.... SPRINGBOARD MOONSAULT DDT!!! The crowd erupts, impressed by that high risk move!!! Faith doesn't bother to even try to pin Hudson, choosing to pull the Mighty Quinn! by his hair over to the corner, where the bent stop sign is... AND LAY HIM OUT WITH A SINGLE ARM DDT!!! Quinn's out cold on the sign, as Faith hops to the top rope..... 630 DEGREE SENTON BOMB!!!!! FUCKING AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP FUCKING AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP FUCKING AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP FUCKING AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP FUCKING AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP One can imagine that bent stop sign is now longer bent as Faith makes the cover... 1... 2...... 3!!!!! The crowd just applauds, noting Quinn's toughness and Faith's pop monkey behavior... ANNOUNCER: ...AND THE MIGHTY QUINN! HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!!! But Faith has no time to enjoy it, as Hudson grabs him from behind.... RUSSIAN LEG SWEEP!!! And he rolls over, and grabs him again... ANOTHER ONE!!! This is what he wanted to do the mighty Quinn! but couldn't!!! ANOTHER LEG SWEEP!!! Now Faith is really feeling the pain... as TRACY HITS HIM WITH ANOTHER ONE!!!! And then hooks the leg!!! 1... 2...... KICK OUT!!! Hudson shakes his head, stands and drops a elbow right to Faith's skull, choosing to hook the leg again!!! 1... 2...... SHOULDER UP!!! Oh, it was just so close! perhaps a tad closer than last time, but still "Black Jesus" beats the three count! Tracy doesn't miss a beat, pulling Faith to his feet and whipping him into the corner! Hudson charges in, catching Joshua with a running elbow! He then backs a few steps, and unleashes muay thai nastiness on Black! Roundhouse kick to left thigh, with a right hook to the chin! Roundhouse kick to the other thigh, with a left jab to the jaw! Black is just rocked, as Hudson kicks him right in the inner thigh, forcing Black to fall forward.... SUPERKICK!!!!! Black flies back into the turnbuckles, and then falls face first into the mat, as Tracy goes rolls him over, again going for the pin! 1... 2...... FOOT ON THE ROPES!!! [BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Faith got his foot on the rope, just in time, but doesn't look like he has much life left in him, as he lays flat on his back. Hudson rolls right out of the ring, and pulls out a table from underneath the ring!!! He gives the fans a "OH YEA! I'M ENDING THIS NOW!" look, as he slides it into the ring, before sliding in himself! He leans the table against the one corner's turnbuckles, before returning to focus on the "Black Jesus". He pulls Ryan off the mat and gives him a few shots, as he pulls his over towards the corner where table is! The crowd begins to cheer slightly, showing their love for tables! Hudson locks on a rear waistlock, and turns Ryan around, so now Hudson's back towards the table! GERMAN SUPLEX!!!! [NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!] FAITH BLOCKS IT... WITH A MULE KICK TO THE GUT!!! He turns around, wobbly, and gives Hudson a European Uppercut! Now Hudson's a bit wobbly, as Faith leaps.... STANDING DROP KICK!!!! HUDSON FLIES BACKWARDS THRU THE TABLE!!!!! The crowd is happy to see some table breakage, but certainly not completely happy it was Hudson! Without much in the tank, Faith knocks some table pieces off Hudson, before flopping to make the cover... 1... 2...... FOOT ON THE ROPE!!! [WHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! WE THOUGHT IT WAS OVER POP!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Faith crawls out of the corner, using the ropes to pull himself upright. Hudson moves just as slow, looking just as beaten and exhausted as the "Black Jesus", using the turnbuckles to pull himself to his feet. With the crowd standing, the two men stumble their way towards each other, going for a lock up... [OH FUCK YEAAAAAAAAAAA FACE POP!!!!!!!] ...HUDSON WITH THE ROLL UP!! SMALL PACKAGE LOCKED ON!!!! 1... 2...... 3!!!!!!!!! *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* | | | WINNER: Tracy Hudson | | | | FINISH: Small package | | | *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* The crowd explodes for the awesomeness they just witnessed! Hudson and Faith roll to opposite corners, both out of breath and bleeding, but Hudson in certainly more of a chipper mood. *^*^*^*^*^*^*^* ON THE SCREENZ *^*^*^*^*^*^*^* [Scene opens up, right to the face of one Joshua Black, who looks quite angry. He's in his street clothes, with the GNAW Heavyweight title slung over Heather's shoulder.] BLACK: Bullzeye thinks he can do what he did and get away with it! He thinks he can send my girl to the hospital and feel no repercussions! YEA RIGHT! [Black turns around and walks off, motioning the camera to follow. Black asks for the title belt, and folds it up, looking as if he's trying to make it the most effective weapon it can possibly be. Black opens a near by door, and peaks in, a smile forms over his face.] BLACK: Ssssh, stay quiet as you can... [Black works his way into the room, slowly as possible. Soon as the camera man is able to follow, it becomes apparent for Black's sleathlyness... Bullzeye's busy, focused squarely on the task at hand... wrapping barbwire around another dartboard, mumbling something to himself!] BLACK: YOU SONUVABITCH!!! [Black charges, GNAW Heavyweight title in hand, and catches Bullzeye by surprise! He whacks Bullzeye right in the head with the title, knocking Bullzeye right off his chair! Black continues, raining down with title shot after title shot! Black is just screaming at Bullzeye the entire time! Black grabs the belt, and pulls Bullzeye to his feet... BOOM GOES THE DYNAMITE!!! A fisherman's suplex... on the title gold!!! And like always, Black holds on, and bridges for the pin! As Heather screams for the ref, he's already down making the count...] 1... 2...... 3!!!!!! [Black stands up, as the referee hands him his newly on DERP 24/7 Championship belt. Black stands up, new title at hand, still jawing away at Bullzeye, who's clutching his back on the ground, visibly angry.... and then starts to smile!?!? Black looks totally confused.... AND THEN FIGURES IT OUT!!! FRANK WILKES FROM BEHIND!!! He spins Black around.... REGISTERED!!!! A FIREMAN'S CARRY BRAINBUSTER!!!!!! Wilkes hooks the leg, yelling at the ref to make the count...] 1... 2... 3!!!!!! [And Wilkes looks happy as can be! He is over joyed as the ref hands him the DERP 24/7 title... But.. then... Frank's happiness fades!!! He asks the ref where's HIS title! The referee keeps insisting that IS his title, as Frank gets angrier and angrier! He just begins stomping away on Black, taking out his frustrations... as Heather tries to sneak towards the GNAW title which is on the ground near by... Wilkes sees her, and his eyes light up once he sees his real prize.... but he should have been paying attention to BULLZEYE!!! The former DERP 24/7 champion taps Wilkes on the shoulder, turns him around... SCOOP SLAM PILEDRIVER!!! Bullzeye grabs the chair he was sitting on.... ARABIAN FACEBUSTER!!! Bullzeye hooks the leg, as the ref needs no instructions now, knowing exactly what to do!] 1... 2... 3!!!!!! [The referee can barely give Bullzeye his title back fast enough, as Bullzeye grabs himself, and departs the room as quickly as he can. Heather begins to help Black get up, having already secured his GNAW Heavyweight title. The two don't' even bother with Wilkes, who's barely stirring at the camera fades...] *^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^* SCREENS RETURN TO DERP LOGO *^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^* That is DERP 24/7 title insanity in it's truest sense! We had two new champions added to the lineage, but Bullzeye still managed to be the one walking away still holding that title!!! One has to wonder how much all of this punishment tonight is going to affect his performance on house show number six! What no one has to wonder about is the two men in the ring, who both made their way down to the ringside area during the 24/7 title craziness. First out was Bateman, accompanied by his manager Fletcher. Quickly following was Marime the Mischievous! And once the DERP logo returned to the screen, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of this awesome one on one contest! *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* | | | BATEMAN | | vs | | MARIME THE MISCHEVIOUS | | | *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* Bateman and Marime approach in the center of the ring. Marime goes for the collar and elbow tie up, but Bateman wants no part, choosing to boot Marime in the gut, and following it with a quick knee lift! Marime stumbles back into the ropes, as Bateman follows, choosing to whip Marime across the ring. Marime comes charging back, Bateman leap frogs the clown, and goes running into the ropes himself. Both men come running at each other, as Marime catches Bateman with a arm drag takedown! Both men back up quickly to their feet... Marime with another arm drag! Both men again quickly back up to their feet, as they can approach... Another ar--NO! SPINNING ROUNDHOUSE KICK! Marime falls to the mat, as Bateman steadies himself on the ropes, taking a breather. The fans applaud loudly, impressed so far by the quick paced action. It doesn't take long for Bateman to get right back on the attack. He moves towards Marime, pulling the clown to his feet by his hair... but Marime gives him a shoulder block... and another! Bateman's reeling a bit, as Marime pops up with a soccer-esque headbutt, right to Bateman's nose! Now Bateman's really reeling, as Marime hops to his feet... PELE KICK! Bateman drops to the mat, as the crowd roars, the momentum clearly turning in Marime's favor! Both men get to their feet roughly the same time, on opposite sides of the ring. Bateman doesn't waste any time, just acting like a man possessed. Marime begins to laugh uncontrollably... waves hello.. and flips himself over the top rope to the outside!?!?! He lands on his feet, and gives Bateman another wave! Bateman just looks infuriated and quickly slides to the outside... LEAPING KNEE BY MARIME! Bateman slumps against the ring, as Marime backs into the ringside corner... handspring back elbow... NO!!! Bateman dropped to the floor, Marime eats the ring rib first!!! The crowd collectively groans, as Bateman gets to his feet... and just repeatedly kicks Marime in the thigh! Again, and again, Bateman just keeps kicking until Marime hobbles away... But Bateman doesn't let him get far, drop kicking him right in the back... sending him hard into the guardrail! Bateman charges... SPLASH ON MAR--NOOOOOO!!! Marime moves!!! Bateman eats nothing but guardrail, as it Marime's turn to drop to the floor! Again both men struggle to their feet about the same time. Marime has crawled towards the ring, using the ring skirt, as Bateman pulls himself up using the guardrail. Fletcher moves over and tries to talk some strategy with Bateman, trying to help the rookie get his eyes back on the prize. He even helps the situation by giving Bateman a chair! Bateman seizes the opportunity, and moves towards Marime, he swings... Marime moves! Bateman gets nothing but the ring! Marime stumbles around the ringside, as Bateman comes up behind with the chair again! Marime turns around, right as Bateman swings... but that crafty crazy clown again moves out of the way! Again Bateman swings... and Marime catches the chair with a super kick, driving the steel hard into Bateman's face! Marime doesn't relent, backs up a few now with the chair in his hand.... He does a cartwheel... AND BOUNCES UP... CHAIR SHOT!!! The crazy clown damn near decapitates the DERP rookie with that cartwheel chair shot from hell! The crowd erupts... HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! HOLE-LEE SHIT! Still standing, Marime rolls into the ring, giving himself some distance to recover and perhaps game plan as Fletcher attends to Bateman on the outside. Fletcher helps Bateman to his feet, but the rookie looks incredibly unstable. Marime just looks on, feeling no desire to pursue the attack yet. Fletcher turns Bateman and rolls his client into the ring, yelling words of encouragement as the rookie gets to his feet. Marime doesn't quite go on the offensive... instead he seems to be playing games with Bateman! He approaches the rookie from the side, taps him on the shoulder... and hops away, right as Bateman swings widely! Marime just laughs hysterically, as he does it again... and again! Each time Bateman can't quite catch the clown! The fans are just dying in their seats, totally enjoying Bateman's face turn bright red and drip with anger. Bateman just charges the clown, who leap frogs right over him. The two men hit the ropes... Marime goes back charging, as Bateman held on, stopping his progress. He lowers his head... BACK BODY DROP!!! And Bateman put so much umph into it.. he flipped the clown right up and out of the ring! The only one in the entire arena cheering is Fletcher, who calls out eagerly to Bateman, who's slumped on the ropes gathering himself still. It's easy to see what Fletcher wants... as the man has a Stop Sign in his hand, and he's laying it on top of Marime! Bateman's eyes light up, as he moves towards the corner, running right up the turn buckles... DOUBLE FOOT STOMP ON THE STOP SIGN!!! With Marime's ribs already been bashed into the ring early, that right there really has to hurt! Bateman and Fletcher are quite proud of themselves, even taking the time to slap a few high fives. The fans at ringside aren't very pleased, specially the man in the cowboy hat! He lets the duo have it, questioning he very nature of their 'business' relationship! As Fletcher goes off on the fan, Bateman decides to dig underneath the ring. He calls out to Fletcher, asking for assistance as Bateman pulls a table out from under the ring. Fletcher is put in charge of setting up the table, as Bateman pulls Marime to his feet and whips him into the guardrail right near the set up table. Fletcher gets out of the way as quick as he can, before Bateman slams Marime's head right off the table. Bateman then climbs atop the table, as Fletcher cautiously comes back over, helping Bateman pull Marime up onto the table.... The crowd holds its breath, as Bateman... scoops Marime up! He's going for a kneeling belly to belly piledriver!!! He pauses, making sure to mouth off the crowd, and then pushes up, almost jumping..... [SO FREAKING LOUD IT'll SHOW UP ON A RICHTER SCALE POP!] .....MARIME REVERSED IT!!! MARIME RESERVED THE PILEDRIVER AND CAUGHT BATEMAN WITH ONE OF HIS ONE!!!! The table is shattered, both men are sprawled on the floor, Fletcher is beside himself! And the fans... they are just as loud as can be! THAT WAS AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP THAT WAS AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP THAT WAS AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP THAT WAS AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP THAT WAS AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP THAT WAS AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP THAT WAS AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP THAT WAS AWESOME! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP By now, Fletcher has pulled Bateman from the rubble, and is checking on his client, a desperate look in his eyes. Bateman seems to come back from the land of the unconscious with Fletcher's help, but that doesn't mean he's in any shape to get up. Marime has pulled himself up on the ring steps, and sits there, eyes glued on Bateman, who's trying to pull himself up to his feet. Bateman does reach his feet, but only with the help of Fletcher. The fans give both men a loud round of applause, as Marime gets to his feet and the competitors stumble towards each, something still left in their tanks. The two men begin to trade chops! SMMMAAACK! Marime takes a whack at Bateman! SMMMMMAAACK! Bateman fires back! SMMMAAAACKK! Marime gives another shot! SMMMMMACK! Bateman fires right back, and seems to be packing a bit more punch as Marime takes a few steps backwards. Bateman charges forward, connecting with a forearm smash. That stands Marime stumbling uncontrollably into the guardrail.. and with such force he goes up and over into the crowd! Still reeling from the piledriver through the table, Bateman doesn't feel the need to rush after Marime at all. Bateman takes his time, letting the clown groggily get to his feet. but Marime doesn't stay upright long... as Bateman pulls himself up onto the guardrail... SPRINGBOARD CLOTHESLINE! Both men are down again, but Bateman isn't for long. Soon as he gets to the upright position, the fans boo mightily as Bateman raises his arm high into the air. He just laughs, giving Marime a few stomps as the clown crawls farther into the crowd, rapidly approaching the bleacher area. Bateman doesn't mind, grabbing a crutch off a near by fan! He winds up... and breaks it right over Marime's back! The clown laughs, but its certainly a strained laugh, not one of joy like normal! Holding a broken piece of the crutch, Bateman grabs Marime by his hair... and digs the broken end right the clown's forehead! Forget the prospect of splinters, Marime has been split wide open! Bateman tosses down the piece of crutch, and pulls Marime to his feet by his hair. He grabs him towards the bleacher seats and up a few rows, before he hooks him for a snap suplex right on the bleacher steps! Everyone just grimaces in pain, as the clown smacks the metal hard! Bateman could have easily just broken Marime's back right there, and the kid seems to not even care! He just looks... hungry for more violence! After mouthing off to a few fans sitting the bleachers, Bateman pulls Marime to his feet... and catches a elbow shot to the gut! And another... and then Marime drops Bateman with a jaw breaker! Bateman stumbles backwards, and falls up a few rows of steps, now only a few rows from the top! Winded and bleeding, Marime seemingly stalks Bateman, who is scrambling up the steps, modified crab walk style. He reaches the top, having run out of real estate and begins to kick Marime, trying to keep the clown at bay! It doesn't work, as Marime grabs Bateman's leg, and executes a perfect Achilles nerve pinch! Bateman howls, as... MARIME HITS A STANDING MOONSAULT!!! Both men are laid out at the top of the bleacher seats, as the fans are just loving this! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! D-E-R-P! As it's been the whole match, both men pull themselves upright at about the same time. This time they both use the safety rail to achieve the standing position, each men obviously worse for the wear. Marime makes the first move, spinning around, cracking Bateman with a forward fist... followed by a back fist.... another forward fist... and finished with a spin kick! That's the DANCE OF KNIVES! Bateman looks out on his feet, having stumbled his way to the top corner of the bleachers. Marime takes a second, collecting himself and looking around, planning something... He backs up a few steps along the top row, and with that hysterical laugh, he charges at Bateman, and leaps onto his shoulders.... HE'S GOING TO HURRICANRANNA BATEMAN DOWN THE BLEACHERS!!!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [OH MY GAWD WE JUST SAW SOMEONE DIE POP!] BATEMAN HAD OTHER IDEAS!!! HE HELD ONTO MARIME... AND POWERBOMBED HIM OFF THE BLEACHERS!!! MARIME FALLS ABOUT FIFTEEN.. TWENTY FEET!!! Everyone is just in shock! No one knows what's going on! Pandemonium spreads, as the crowd surrounds Marime, giving no one the ability to see if the clown's alive! Bateman looks on from the top of the bleachers, expressionless, as Fletcher makes his way up to him, pale as a ghost. The entire arenas house lights come on, making it brighter than most people would find comfortable. Security moves in, trying to back everyone up and away from Marime, giving the DERP EMTs a chance to check on the clown's condition. Everyone's demeanor is very serious, as this is no joke. They quickly get Marime in a neck brace, and call for a stretcher! Fans are now beginning to cry a bit, unsure of what they just witnessed. Perhaps is this the first instance of what happens when hardcore goes wrong in DERP. The stretcher makes it to Marime in no time flat, as sirens can be heard outside the building, presumably an ambulance making its presence known. Very carefully, the DEPR EMTs load Marime into the stretcher and wheel him out the closet emergency exit door. Bateman and Fletcher slowly make their way to the back, as a odd hush falls over the arena... People begin to whisper if they'll even have the main event now!?!? The projector doesn't' fire up, giving us delight from the back. No one's music hit to single their entrance... and, shit, there doesn't even look like there's ring personnel at ringside!?!? Where's the time keeper! Where's the ring announcer!?!? Shit, where's the referee?!?! And then, just as people are beginning to wonder if this things over and no ones told anyone..... The "Here We Go!" guy seizes the moment... HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP First it was just him, but now he's got most of his section going! HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP It's contagious! The disease is spreading to the entire arena, the chant just becoming thunderous in volume! HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP HERE WE GO STEELERS, HERE WE GO! CLAP, CLAP As as the chant hits it's peak decibel level, everyone wondering how much louder they can get...... "Wolves" by Machine Head blares over the arena, killing the chant, causing a massive wave of jeers to ring out! # Release the wolves Carnage has no rules Comparison, competition We'll bury one and all # [PAUSE.] [THUMP. THUMP.] [LIGHTS OUT!] [GUITAR SOLO!] [Lights flash on with a huge BOOM as the notorious group known as The Perfectly Perfect Alliance appear at the mouth of the entrance! The fans are instantly totally annoyed!] FUCK-ING JAGOFFS! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP FUCK-ING JAGOFFS! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP FUCK-ING JAGOFFS! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP FUCK-ING JAGOFFS! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP FUCK-ING JAGOFFS! CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,CLAP,CLAP [Omar is shown first, wearing a tailored dark gray sharkskin suit with a light pink shirt while Josh Manning is decked out in his wrestling gear, along with a sleeveless PPA shirt. His light brown mane is slicked back, his "Jesus beard" getting scruffier by the minute. Manning and Omar walk toward the ring as the "World's Most Hated Tag Team" walk into the flashing light. Both Studd brothers are wearing black wrestling trunks and PPA shirts. They share a "fuck you all" grin as they follow Omar and Josh to the ring. Lance jaws off at some fans as Max threatens to backhand them. Manning slides into the ring as Omar walks up the stairs and enters the ring as well, a smug look plastered on his face. The PPD finally climb into the ring and both brothers grab microphones as the crowd continues to boo heavily.] Lance Studd: the Perfectly Perfect Alliance are the greatest, most talented wrestlers to ever grace this... this travesty known as DERP and this... THIS IS HOW WE ARE TREATED? "YOU SUCK DICK!" "YOU SUCK DICK!" "YOU SUCK DICK!" "YOU SUCK DICK!" "YOU SUCK DICK!" "YOU SUCK DICK!" "YOU SUCK DICK!" "YOU SUCK DICK!" "YOU SUCK DICK!" Lance Studd: I DO NOT SUCK DICK, GOD DAMN IT! Max Studd: ...and for the record - neither do I! Regardless of what that queer Taelor Cole says! "YES YOU DO!" "YES YOU DO!" "YES YOU DO!" "YES YOU DO!" "YES YOU DO!" "YES YOU DO!" "YES YOU DO!" "YES YOU DO!" "YES YOU DO!" [Max suddenly becomes absolutely irate. He throws his microphone to the side and begins mouthing off to fans in the front row who are chanting and wearing "C & C" t-shirts! Lance pulls his brother back and faces him.] Lance Studd: Ignore them! Ignore them, Max! Nothing they say matters. Nothing they do matters. [Slowly.] Lance Studd: They... don't... matter. [Lance grins as Max nods toward his brother.] Lance Studd: We are going to beat the ever living fuck out of these barnyard animals and there isn't a damn thing any of you can do about it. You can chant your obscenities, you can call Max gay, you can bad mouth the greatest wrestling manager EVER, but you will never, ever make me give a flying fuck what any of your inbred morons think about myself, my brother, Josh Manning or Omar! [Becoming quite irate and red in the face, Lance positions himself directly in front of the camera, screaming to the top of his lungs.] Lance Studd: WE ARE THE BEST! WE ALWAYS HAVE BEEN! WE ALWAYS WILL BE! [CROWD BOOS!] Lance Studd: We _are_ the world's most hated tag team, but not only that, we are the world's GREATEST tag team to ever compete in this ring. Ryan Delaney _screwed_ the PPD out of the tag team titles. And for that? He _will_ die. He will pay dearly when we milk the fucking cow and fry the fucking cock because that's what happens when you _mess_ with us. That's what happens to barnyard cock sucking pieces of shit like Cow and Chicken. [Lance hands his microphone over to Omar. However, before the Man of Every Year can speak, the crowd breaks into yet another creative chant.] "PUSSY WHIPPED!" "PUSSY WHIPPED!" "PUSSY WHIPPED!' "PUSSY WHIPPED!" "PUSSY WHIPPED!" "PUSSY WHIPPED!" [Omar frowns and shakes his head.] Omar: Oh, you mother fuckers think you're funny, huh? A barrel of fuckin' laughs, right? Wait 'til the end of tonight when we piss all over this ring and all over those fuckin' hacks you love so much! [HEEL POP!] Omar: See, y'all have a bad habit of getting what you want. You're spoiled... and it's all thanks to Ryan Delaney. Guess what? Ain't gonna be no midgets. Ain't gonna be some other piece of shit amateur who doesn't know a head lock from a leg lock coming' out to save the day. Tonight the Perfectly Perfect Alliance is putting on a clinic. Tonight... we're gonna whoop that ass without all the blatant cheating and interference that goes on here in DERP! And God willing, we will kill this company just like we did GNAW! "FUCK YOU, OMAR!" clap, clap, clapclapclap "FUCK YOU, OMAR!" clap, clap, clapclapclap "FUCK YOU, OMAR!" clap, clap, clapclapclap "FUCK YOU, OMAR!" clap, clap, clapclapclap "FUCK YOU, OMAR!" clap, clap, clapclapclap "FUCK YOU, OMAR!" clap, clap, clapclapclap Omar: FUCK YOU! [Lance Studd covers Omar's ears with his hands as Max paces back and forth, cursing at random fans. Josh Manning takes the mic from Omar in the meantime.] JM: Now, now, Omar... your blood pressure's already high as it is. [Manning pats his agent on the shoulder before turning his attention to the crowd.] JM: See, this is exactly what I'm talking about. Your minds are far too basic to grasp the fact that we are doing what we do... for your own good. [Boooo! Manning smirks.] JM: In summary, each and every person in this arena is a fucking bloodthirsty, illiterate retard... and your children will likely meet the same fate unless the Perfectly Perfect Alliance destroys everything you love! "YOU'RE A PUSSY!" "YOU'RE A PUSSY!" "YOU'RE A PUSSY!" "YOU'RE A PUSSY!" "YOU'RE A PUSSY!" "YOU'RE A PUSSY!" "YOU'RE A PUSSY!" "YOU'RE A PUSSY!" "YOU'RE A PUSSY!" JM: Well... you know... you _are_ what you eat. "OHHHHHHHHH!" JM: Anyway, it's people like you sitting out here... people like Ryan Delaney... people like Cow and Chicken... people like Tyrone Heatwole -- and, yes, I did use your "government," you fucking crack baby -- who are ruining the _sport_ of wrestling. Remember? Remember when this was a "sport"? Huh? I'm sorry that I don't need to put someone through a table to win. I'm sorry that I don't need to take a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire to "get over." I'm sorry that I don't need to be some mind-fucked crazy person who's never been inside or around a woman in his entire adult life... the latter description applying to most of the fuck faces who paid to enter this building, which would explain why you cheer these people. [The fans are hating on Manning right now... and he loves it. The PPD and Omar either applaud or nod in agreement with his statements.] JM: In closing, the PPA is putting on a clinic tonight. Like I said... we're going to _out-wrestle_ our enemies. Lance and Max are going to show Cow and Chicken how a _real_ tag team does business... and as for the Trash Bag Baby? This Sexy Jesus will put you back in the dumpster where you belong. [With that, Manning tosses the mic out of the ring, high-fiving Omar and the PPD.] *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* | | | SIX MAN TAG TEAM WAR | | DERP STEEL CITY TAG TITLE MATCH | | | | COW AND CHICKEN (C) | | "THE TRASHMAN" TYRONE HEAT | | vs | | PERFECTLY PERFECT ALLIANCE | | (PPD + Josh Manning) | | | *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* And here's the part that SUCKS about the DERP format.... ...yins won't see this match til Saturday on the... ...VERY FIRST EPISODE EXTREME TV! DON'T MISS THE FUN!!! *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* | | | WINNER: | | | | FINISH: | | | *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ DERP ^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* ______________________________________________________ THOUGHTS? REACTIONS? SPEAK YOUR MIND RIGHT HERE: http://z13.invisionfree.com/DERP_Forum/index.php?showforum=4 *^*^*^*^*^*^*^* ON THE SCREENZ *^*^*^*^*^*^*^* *^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^* SCREENS RETURN TO DERP LOGO *^*^*^*^*^*^*^**^*^*^*^*^*^*^*