Fade into a diner in Greensboro. JA and Lollipop are sitting in a booth over some late night coffee and pie.
Lollipop: So, like, I thought you weren't like gonna be scheduled on this card?
JA: Neither did I, but I guess someone had to wrestle the Borinator for his title. I mean, the event's gonna be in Greensboro. The Greensboro Title should be defended.
Lollipop: But does that mean like our little celebration is gonna be like postponed?
JA: Nah, you still get the cake, and we'll do what we were gonna do all along.
Cut to a scene right outside the diner. JA is waiting out front in a trenchcoat while Lollipop is inside, in line waiting to pay the bill. Apparently there are a bunch of stoners who like to frequent this diner when they get the munchies late at night. JA looks into the camera intently.
JA: Stevie Awesomer... congratulations. You outwrestled me in front of all those screaming JA-holics in Denver and you earned your shot to wrestle for a shot to face That Damn Bug for his Yoo-Ess title. Don't let your win over me be in vain, or else I'll be pretty ticked, ya hear?
But despite losing that shot, life indeed does go on. And that life is pretty damn sweet, sweeter than the shoo-fly pie I just ate here at Herbie's. In one of my other two places of gainful employment, I just earned the shot to be the number one contender at their version of the World Championship. In the other one, well, let's just say I'm still smarting from taking all those chairshots, but I'm still high on the foodchain.
And now, I perhaps get my best shot to get gold here in the early stages of my See-Ess-Dub career in facing Rabesquedor the Borinator for the Greensboro Championship. Well, it will be my best chance if I can stay awake.
Yes Rabesquedor, your reputation preceeds you everywhere you go. Putting audiences to sleep across the Eff-Dub Nation. There has to be a reason why you're a Champion here, and it's not because you're a skilled ring technician. I have to admit that when I had trouble sleeping in my hotel room in San Francisco, I just turned on U-62 ON DEMAND and played your spots against Boogie on loop. Instant sedative.
But I guess being the elusive French Canadian Wild Bore has been good to you, or else you would have developed a personality by now. Even Lance Storm, God bless him, can crack a good one-liner every once in awhile. I guess that whole, "I'm the greatest wrestler you've ever seen" thing can take you so far. But the problem there is, if you ask any of the kids on the street, they'll probably tell you I'm at least your equal if not your superior in that squared circle.
Hell, I was trained by the best. And I've had wars in that ring, the most recent one being in your homeland, where the beer is strong, the trees are tall, the men are men and so are the women. I can guess that's how you got to be so crafty, trying to bed all those hoser women. That's why I waited to bag my lady when I got to Palm Springs. Too many women in Calgary with hair on their upper lips... yeesh, I shudder every time I think back.
But yet, you still hold the advantage in this match. And it's not even that Champion's advantage where you can get yourself disqualified and keep your title. Men like you are too proud to want to keep your titles that way. You're so old school that when Lou Thesz died, the folks over at the Wrestling Classics board nominted you to succeed him as the subject for their circle jerks.
But no, that's not it. I know how you became and stayed the Greensboro Champion. You put all your foes to sleep and rolled them up, and I don't mean with the traditional variant on the sleeper. I mean every time you hold a mic to your lips, it's like valium baby. That's why I'm putting myself on a special diet and taking up a strenuous training regimen. Nothing but coffee, Mountain Dew and sugar until Anniversary. Sleep deprivation. I'm going to do everything it takes so I can stay awake and then school you in front of the screaming hordes here in Greensboro, home of the third-best wrestling fans on Earth (sorry guys, but I can't sell out my home town of Philly or my adopted home of Calgary on this one).
And then after that, maybe I'll loop some more of your promotional segments so I can get a good night's rest and get ready to defend that strap against some livelier competition.
Lollipop walks out of the diner.
JA: Wow, long line babe?
Lolli: Like yeah babe. There must be like a stoner convention here or something.
JA shrugs as they walk into the Greensboro night. The screen fades to hte CSWA logo.
(The screen comes in on the CSWA Greensboro Championship, and then immediately we cut hard to the CSWA banner, and then we slowly pan away to one Jean Rabesque, wearing the normal black gear, the previously seen title belt brought out of mothballs and residing over his shoulder, he flashes his normal cocky smile, and then speaks)
“November 15, 2003, sure seems as a hell of a long time ago. It was twenty months ago that this belt went into permanent residence with me. And of course, CSWA’s more than active lifestyle has sure as hell contributed to it. (Chuckles) Regardless, every challenge has been met head on, every one overcome. Every chump who has come at me spewing the same ridiculous garbage left basically the way they entered, without a title around their waist. I guess the only thing that might have changed about them is their comfort level walking out of the building. A nearly broken leg does have a way of adjusting things like that.
“JA, I’m going to have to be honest with you for a second. Until about 48 hours ago, I had no clue who the hell you were. Hell, I had to put some work into finding some decent highlight footage. And yet, somehow here you are, getting a title shot on CSWA’s biggest, maybe only, show for the rest of the year. I’m not exactly sure you’re in bed with, even though a couple ideas immediately come to mind, but it’s obvious you’re doing something right behind the scenes.
“If only you any grasp on reality. Or even worse, had an original thought. I find it amusing that you can cut an entire spot about my lack of originality, and in doing so, you failed to provide an original thought. Hire a deep speech writer if you must but spare me the carbon copies of everything that has come before you. Trust me, NO ONE has ever said anything to me about curing narcolepsy. Trust me, NO ONE has ever insulted Canada to me. And NO ONE has ever claimed that my method of victory is boredom and a roll-up.
“I’ve heard it all before JA, and it’s obvious you’re just another punk that thinks he’s a better wrestle than I am, cuts a spot telling me how boring I am, and then proceeds to get his ass humiliated. I’ve lost track JA, but it’s well into triple digits by now. You’re all the same, and you all end the same. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it a thousand times, I don’t care what you think of my interviews. Now the sad thing for you is that yours are actually less entertaining than mine and you at least appear to claim to be good at this.
“And trust me, if you think my matches are BORING then allow me to apologize in advance. You’re about to endure a much, much different experience. At CSWA 17, you will be asleep by the end of the match, but JA, it will not, and I promise this, NOT be from boredom. Unconsciousness quickly comes to mind. That is unless you tap before the pain gets too much.
“It’s a big time in the CSWA. Another expected rebirth, another anniversary. This is a chance for me to prove myself yet again. It was a very humbling experience to be pinned the way I was by that chump Boogie and losing the chance at the title I rightfully deserved. But in the mean time, I’m going to do exactly what I’ve been saying I would do. I will go from town to town defending this Greensboro title against anybody who wants a shot. Every punk like JA out there who sees this belt as their breakthrough moment can go ahead and get in line because I thrive on, hell I live to humble punks like my opponent.
“It’s been a long time since I was legitimately challenged in a CSWA ring. The match with Boogie could be regarded as a wake-up call. I got lazy, I had forgotten what it was to have my shoulders pinned like that. The same mistake will not happen again, especially with the title on the line, especially to some chump who thinks he has everything figured out.
“To all the CSWA I make this decree, and I hope you all are listening. I will not stop until I am the CSWA World Heavyweight Champion. In the mean time, I will prove to the world one match at a time that I am the best thing walking today.
“You have fun at your diner JA. While you work it with the bimbo, I’ll be deciding which bone....(chuckles) or bones, I feel like breaking.
“No false gimmicks, no false hype, I am the CSWA Greensboro Champion, I am Jean Rabesque.”
Cut into an X-TREEM close up of JA's lucha masked face.
JA: Rabesquedor, what a coincidence that you've never heard of me since you saw the booking sheets. Because I've never heard of you up until a few months ago when I heard a song...
The camera zooms out to see first Lollipop holding a tambourine. Then, the first special guest star, "The Queen of hte Ring" Lindsay Troy, is shown with a microphone. Finally, the zoom-out shows Christian Sands with a guitar behind a mic stand of his own.
JA: It went a little somthing like this... HIT IT!
Sands starts playing his guitar to the "Trogdor the Burninator" song. Lolli bangs on the tambourine.
Rabesquedor was a maa-aaan. He was a .... BORING MAN. Well, maybe he was just BORING.
But he's still RABESQUEDOOOOORRRRRR!!!!
Borinating the countryside... Borinating the 'Net fans... Boring all of the people in the STEEL ROOFED NOSEBLEED SECTIONSSSSSS!!!!
STEEL-ROOFED NOSEBLEED SECTIONSSSSSSS!!!
The music stops. Sands leans up to his mic stand.
LT and CS: AND THE RABESQUEDOR COMES IN THE NIIIIIIIIIIGHT~!
JA:clapping Thanks you crazy kids.
LT: Hey! Where's our fee for appearing in your segment?
JA: Oh yeah...
JA flips them both a quarter.
JA: Don't spend it all in one place... and that's an American quarter, Trickysong, that's worth like twelve Canadian quarters.
Sands smirks at JA, and then both Sands and Troy exit stage right. The camera focuses back on JA.
JA: So you see, Rabesquedor, we have something in common.
But enough with the pleasantries, seeing is that you don't seem to be getting the words that are coming out of my mouth.
I never said you were unoriginal. I mean, far be it from me, the Innovator of Infringement, the Ace of Aping, the Master of the Stealth Rip-Off, to criticize someone for being unoriginal. That's just not my style there, Rabesquerino.
Silly me though, I thought that for someone who can manipulate the English language into boring half the nation to sleep would have a little better listening comprehension than that, but I guess like Peter Griffin, you drift in and out when you talk.
But the thing is, that when I say things, be they original or something that's been said before, I do them in an entertaining manner. Hell, I could probably tape footage of me making a bowel movement and it would be more enthralling than any one of your diatribes about how many bones you can break on your opponent.
But then there's the whole question on whether you actually can break my bones. See, in all the tape that you put together of me, you should have come across one thing that stands out, well that is if you actually got the best footage available and not some bootleg footage of all my greatest jobs from some bitter old Mafioso from South Dakota who's bitter because I'm not giving him a verbal reacharound, is that in order for you to be able to break my bones, you have to catch me first. And if you haven't figured out already, I'm not just quick, I'm sudden.
And I'm much too sudden for you and your creaky forty-plus year-old frame. At least when Joey Melton ages, he ages gracefully.
Of course though, that twenty-plus month reign does seem impressive, and of course, whenever I log onto Wrestling Classics, I have to wade through posts about how much Crimson Mask and all his cronies splooge on the television screen when they watch you work your opponent's pinky or something for 45 minutes. But still, I'm not kidding when I say I'm at least your equal, and that's at the very least.
Because while you may spend a match trying to work the wrist or the spleen or whatever, I'm already halfway towards snapping your neck. And you can't very well break my bones if you can't move.
But I promise I won't try to break your neck. Nah, I wouldn't want to do that to someone whose greatest crime is only being boring. But I'm not letting you leave Greensboro with that Greensboro Ttle around your waist.
Nope. It's about time the See-Ess-Dub got a real dosage of the Anglo Luchador. But all's not lost... at least you'll have the steel roofed nosebleeds to borinate.
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