HUH?

[JayPeaTee]

(Scene- The kitchen of Roger Powell's house in Lexington ,Massachusetts. The refrigerator door is open as Roger is looking to the camera)

ROGER POWELL: This....this could be any refrigerator...maybe yours... deep within the frozen waste, it lurks....ancient mayonaise.... fossilized cabbage, slowly mutating over untold eons....gradually achieving consciousness, until one day, when it is unleashed upon an unsuspecting world......(pulls out a Tupperware container and opens it) "THE COLESLAW THAT TIME FORGOT"!!!! AAAIIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!! Why....oh why....the horror....

(Andrea, Roger's wife shoves him and grabs the tupperware, throwing it i the garbage as Roger chuckles)

ANDREA: Very funny....

ROGER: I thought so...

SCOTT: (coming in off camera) Stop pulling a Bloodhunt....

ROGER: "Pulling a Bloodhunt"?

SCOTT: Whining like a (censored) who doesn't have enough SPANK money.

ROGER: "SPANK money"? Been playing GTA3 one too many times?

SCOTT: You know what I mean...we're supposed to be sitting in awe over the amazing feats of verbal ability that our beloved tag-team champions Hell Machine just puked....er I mean Ralphed....uh I mean spit up, er...well you know (grins).

ROGER: (Gets an "I forgot" look) Ohhh yeaaahhhh...What the (censored) were they talking about anyway?

SCOTT: I couldn't make heads or tails about it, something about forging Papa Smurf's signature, to calling Batman collect, or was it throwing Alf into a glass bottle?

ROGER: HA! Alf, I remember him...

SCOTT: Be serious... I mean I know we hit them both a few too many times on the head...but come on, they were standing in fire. Not only that, they were reduced to talking about our....well.. you know...

ROGER: No...I don't....

SCOTT: What did that little "God's Country" (censored) grab when you beat the (censored) out of him?

ROGER: (cringes and paces in a circle) MAN!!! What are they saying?

SCOTT: Something about how they want to dance in our dreams?

ROGER: (gets a "Those Freaks!" look) They want to be in our dreams?

SCOTT: Either that or that (censored) (censored) of a pickpocket.

ROGER: Oh, you mean the over the hill moron who's dragging dress-boy around by his nose.

SCOTT: Yeah, that's the one....oh yeah, they also said something about going through a girl to get to them....

ROGER: NO WAY! NO (censored) WAY! The last time I did some (censored) storyline with this company I almost got divorced! I'm not going down that road again! (Goes over to the Living room wall and pulls down "Ole Bessie" his bat) The can eat splinters. More appropriately they can shove "Ole Bessie" up their collective (censored)!

SCOTT: That was the other thing, they wanted me to bring them to a prison so they can meet John Wayne.

ROGER: "The Duke" is dead....

SCOTT: I know that, I don't think they do, I mean they think that we actually want to follow the old man and dress boy?

ROGER: (laughing uncontrollably) They what? That man is so hopped up on Geritol and Metamucil that he had to steal our briefcase to get more. (Realizes what he just said) WAIT A MINUTE! HE HAS OUR BRIEFCASE! (Heads for the door as Scott stops him)

SCOTT: Hold on Roger, he actually thinks that we're stupid enough to believe that he's going to hand it back over to us at Crash. Let his Alzheimer's riddled mind believe it, heck he'll probably forget it come Crash anyway.

ROGER: Not like it's gonna matter, we was gonna 'jack him in the parking lot in Hartford anyway...

SCOTT: Way to give away our plan....(points to the camera)

ROGER: It's not like he's gonna remember.

SCOTT: True.... I mean it's not like he's so desperate for any attention he can get that he will come to a one-horse town of a promotion so that he can believe his "star-power" will shoot him straight to the top.

ROGER: Naw, he's too smart to think that even with dress-boy as his partner that he won't get carved by one of our tools. (looks at Scott) Hell Machine WAS talking about toolbox, weren't they Scott?

SCOTT: (gets a strange look) Yeah, but I don't think they really knew WHAT they were talking about. They said something about us holding them up in the mirror each morning.

ROGER: I clean mine in front of a mirror.

(Andrea is in the background and has a look like "I can't believe he just said that".)

ROGER: (To Andrea) Hey, are you done cooking yet?

ANDREA: Patience is of virtue....

SCOTT: Let's order out...

ANDREA: (holding up a slicing knife) What was that?

SCOTT: Nothing....HEY ROGER LOOK!!!....MATCHES!!!! Now we can make fire just like Hell Machine did in their video...(lights up a match and holds it 'til it burns his fingers)

ANDREA: NOT IN HERE YOU WON'T!

SCOTT: OK....OK....

ROGER: Let's go to the Cumberland Farms and find some glass bottles to break....

SCOTT: Why?

ROGER: Well...we have to find a way to survive (ominously, but sarcastically) SOMEHOW....

CAMERAMAN: I'd hate to see what happens when you four meet.

SCOTT: Simple, those "experimenting" greaseballs are no longer the "mad over" bad (censored) that they think they are. We claim to be nothing more than we are, an 18 wheeler on the highway and their the deer caught in our headlights.

CAMERAMAN: Don't tell me, tell them....

SCOTT: I just did! Hell Machine...if you don't like it....

ROGER: Close your eyes.....(To Scott) Let's go man...

(Scene fades as the two head out the front door, and Andrea walks in "Dinner's ready")

 

[Calamity Jon]

(FADEIN to the opulently appointed penthouse apartment of HELLMACHINE, where team frontman CALAMITY is standing next to "BIG IN JAPAN" SEAN TOOMBS, occupying the better part of the camera frame. Both men are staring agog into the lens, before Calamity shakes his head violentlty - making a "goggle" noise - and speaks)

Calamity: "What the f(BLEEP)?"

Toombs: "Was that last promo in French or something?"

Calamity: "It was some F(BLEEP)ing f(BLEEP)g language, maybe it was special code they learned in the pokey. All I know is that it made my brain shake - MAKE SENSE, POWELLS! MUST WE SHAKE YOUR TINY HEADS TO HEAR THE APPLE SEEDS RATTLE? Seriously, my biggest tip for you, regarding future promos, is to throw the script away if the guy who wrote it appears to be COMPLETELY F(BLEEP)ED UP! The only thing that kept your last promo from being a State Of The Union address was a shmear of blow on your upper lip ..."


Toombs: "Also, nice use of cole slaw."

Calamity: "Yeah, seriously, YOU'RE HARD-CORE! YOU'RE HARD-CORE! Way to fail to wrestle a tupperware container out of a woman's hands. We look forward to seeing you in Hartford. You remember Hatford, right? It's where we wrestle next. Wrestling, since you thick-headed throwbacks have so much trouble understanding abstract concepts like 'the future' and 'location,' is the thing you do where you grab other men and throw them around and AREN'T trying to f(BLEEP) em inna popo-hole, YOU F(BLEEP)ING FREAKS!"

Toombs: "They're 18 wheelers on the highway, you know. Big, dumb, and driven by someone else."

Calamity: "Word, but Powells, we feel for your plight. This is why me and Big Chief Ugh-Amugh-Ugh have prepared for you a series of visual aids that'll better illuminate your current situation." (Calamity holds up a piece of string) "This is string, this is what you're dancing on one end of while Doc Silver pulls the other side." (holds up a screwdriver) "And this is a tool, and it's what you are, for being jerked around."

Toombs: (holds up a bowl of cole slaw) "This is cole slaw, Webster's defines it as 'the process or processes of building language skills through repetition.' It is NOT something that makes you a tough guy ..."

Calamity: "Unless you're Popeye."

Toombs: "TOOT TOOT! (laughs and stops abruptly)"

Calamity: (holds up an anatomy chart) "This is the human body, and ..." (points to the anus) "This is where Scott Powell's been taking it for the last fifteen-twenty ..." (points the mouth) "And this is where the big, satisfied smile's been plastered on his mug ever since."

Toombs: (shouting and pointing) "THE ANUS IS ALSO WHERE THE POOP COMES OUT!"

Calamity: "Unless you're a Powell, in which case, we return here" (points at the mouth again, then throws away the chart, picks up a ball of freezer shavings) "This is a snowball. Its relative chance in Hell is what the Powells have of getting within a hundred light years of our titles." (he flings the snowball at the camera, hitting it square on the lens) "A light year is how long it takes light, represented by this finger" (flips a bird) "to travel the distance represented by this" (cuts a double dukestacy)

Toombs: (holding up a banana) "This is not only a shape which holds many fond memories for Scott Powell, this is also YELLOW, like the color of the short bus from which Roger procured his wife. It's also the color of the Powells' bellies, since they were the ones who first abused the "all partners at ringside" for the three-way in Providence, and now are the first to say they won't participate in THIS one unless everyone's banned ... just because they fared rather poorly in that prior circumstance. Also," (picks up the anatomy chart, points back to the anus) "My ass, you f(BLEEP)s."

Calamity: "Here's the last visual aid" (Calamity retrieves the belts from off-camera) "It's what you'll never possess. Because you're morons, because you're slow, because you're unimaginative, because you're not - good - enough to step into the ring with Big Chaos and survive the experience. We're HELLMACHINE, we've got everything AND The Girl, and your feeble attempts at taking away what we got ... it's gonna fall flat on its face like your jokes, your tough guy talk, your basic listening comprehension, and everything ELSE you've TRIED to do. It?s time to go back to the beach, surfer boys, and please allow us the courtesy of being the ones to wipe you out. TRY TO SURVIVE, SOMEHOW, and for the rest of your LIVES, schmucks!?

(Calamity cuts a Double Dukestacy as the camera FTB)