Pro Wrestling's SJH and the Kochi CanniBALLS!!!
PRO WRESTLING'S SJH
&
The Kochi CanniBALLS!!!
FADE IN:
Standing before a glorious sunset, atop a rocky beachfront cliff, with the sound of waves CRASHING into its walls reverberating in the background is the man of the hour, former multi-time World's Champion and the self-proclaimed Heavyweight Champion of the Universe, SHAWN JESSICA HART!
Shadowing him is his half-stepsister, twice-removed, the Ultratitle Tournament's only "divalicious debutante" FELICIA HART. As her gaze traces the shoreline and then falls upon her brother's sun-lit visage, the camera pans over the duo, until finally settling in on a close-up of SJH.
SJH: "LO—my title sequence hath ROCKED IT, and the sun hath illuminated my awesomeness. NOW...the time has COME to squish Freddie Sagawa's Kochi CanniBALLS!!!"
FELICIA: "Yeah bro, that was uber-COOL! Filmation?! How did you resurrect that outfit?"
SJH: "In preparation for my various ULTRATITLE productions, I obtained ownership segments of several defunct studios."
FELICIA: "Sweet! So you like...own He-Man? And the Ghostbusters even?"
SJH: "Well, more like the production bumpers and office furniture..."
QUICK CUT TO: A storage unit filled with tacky, '80s furniture, and a giant, plastic likeness of Orko the Magician. CUT TO: SJH and Felicia.
FELICIA: "OK. Slightly less cool, but your jiggy-freshness is preserved."
SJH: "Word to our mother. So how 'bout you and me get this ULTRATITLE show on the road?!
FELICIA: "Make it so!"
Shawn snaps his fingers and the rocky beachfront disappears, giving way to a green screen behind the pair.
SJH: "Alright now, nnnnnnndaddio! Let's get down to brass tacks! The tape, please!"
A production assistant rushes at SJH and hurriedly hands him a VHS tape. Yes.... you read that correctly. The Phenom takes said tape and holds it up for the camera.
SJH: "What I have here is TOP-SECRET footage of one FREDDIE SAGAWA, alleged cannibal and my esteemed opponent in round two of the Ultratitle tournament...”
In the background, production assistants wheel a couple of cushy chairs and a TV/VCR cart out for the Hart siblings
SJH: ”Now, we all saw what he did last week when he CAME HARD at K-Hard and punched his proverbial ticket to ride the SJH Express, but I being me, with all my Sherlock Holmesian intuition and THIRST for grappling knowledge, NEEDED to see more of this jackhole in action. SO...”
He pops the tape into the VCR.
SJH: ”Submitted for your approval, the fruits of my investigative labors, Frederick Cannibalus Sagaweth in International Pro Wrestling, going toe to toe with one Kevin King just a few, short weeks ago.”
Hart presses play, after which he and his sister plop down into their cushy chairs. CUT TO: The footage in question; Karl "Grizzly" Gammond is on commentary.
GAMMOND: ”Your old buddy Griz here as this match gets going and I wait for Dalt-o to get his scrawny ass upstairs to our broadcast position—“
Hart pauses the tape.
SJH: ”HAAAAH! Our old buddy Griz and Dalt-o, huh?”
FELICIA: ”They sound like....the janitors at Archie and Veronica's high school.”
SJH: ”Or hillbilly loan-adjusters. But we digress, I'm sure they're fine examples of the best the broadcast industry has to offer. Let's just see what Cammy Waubash's Cannibal Corpse has up his sleeve, shall we?”
SJH hits the fast-forward button, pauses for a beat, then resumes playback.
DALT-O: ”Kevin King seems a bit lost fighting outside the ring. It seems he's more at home in an athletic competition than a streetfight.”
Sagawa and King are back on their feet, Sagawa rolling King back into the ring. He leaps onto the apron, then slingshots himself in...
*THUUUDDD!!!*
DALT-O: ”Rolling Senton MISSED! King moved!”
PAUSE.
SJH: ”Epic-fail by the Kochi Cannibal!!”
FELICIA: ”Didn't Dalt-o just say King was lost?”
SJH: ”Right. So in other words, Sagawa can't connect with a basic move on a guy that doesn't even know where he is or what the F
(FCC)CK he's doing.”
FELICIA: ”Well, what do you expect? The poor guy can't even speak properly. So what else happens here?”
SJH FF's for another moment before pressing the play button.
DALT-O: ”Inverted headlock backbreaker! What a move by Kevin King!”
SJH: ”Ouch.”
FAST-FORWARD.
Sagawa follows up a move with a kick to the ribs, then runs the ropes, but King leaps into the air, meeting him as he rebounds...
*THWAACKKK-THUUDD!!*
DALT-O: ”Beautiful vertical dropkick by Kevin King!”
SJH: ”That sucks.”
FAST-FORWARD.
Sagawa nails King with a forearm across the back of the head, then pulls him into a standing headscissors up top... he lifts, but King counters by taking him down.
*THUUUDDDDD!!!*
DALT-O: ”TOP ROPE HURICANRANA BY KEVIN KING!!!”
SJH: ”Y'know, I'm starting to see a pattern here.”
FELICIA: ”You're tellin' me.”
SJH: ”I wonder how this nightmare ends...”
FAST-FORWARD.
DALT-O: ”King has hold of Sagawa now...”
*THUUUUDDDDDDDD!!!!*
DALT-O: ”FISHAMANBUSTAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!! Or as Kevin King likes to call it, the FALL FROM GRACE!!”
GAMMOND: ”Either way he's going for the pin!”
ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!
TWO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THREEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!
*DING DING DING!*
CUT TO: SJH and Felicia in their cushy chairs.
FELICIA: ”That's it?!”
SJH: ”Heh, well truth be told, I was watching this earlier and I can confirm that NO, that's NOT it! In fact, this schitzo gets his creepy ass kicked even HARDER after the bell by some Watanabe guy!”
FELICIA: ”What?! No! I mean, how can that be? This guy is CRAZY! He EATS PEOPLE!”
SJH: ”I honestly don't know what Waubash is feeding him, but from what I can tell, when he's in that squared circle, the only thing he EATS is the sh
(FCC)t off of his opponent's BOOT!”
FELICIA: ”Dizzamn.”
SJH: ”Agreed. I mean, full-disclosure... he eventually gets his hand on a chair and, after blathering some indecipherable gibberish, bashes some fool's head in, but without the aid of illegal INTERNATIONAL OBJECTS—“
FELICIA: ”Schiavone'd!”
SJH: ”Let's just say I like my chances.”
FELICIA: ”I dunno, man. He looked pretty good last round... and that Waubash sounded pretty confident in his blog...”
Hart grimaces at the very thought.
SJH: "Tell you what, sis..."
He turns and peers directly into the hard camera.
SJH: "...aaaaand this is for you too, Wa-B
(FCC)TCH! Your cohort may be freaky, and he may want to eat my liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti, but the steak n' eggs of the situation is that in an actual wrestling match...with an ACTUAL athlete, he's like the Chicago Bulls post-Derrick Rose ACL-tear; lost, frazzled and with nary a hope of even SNIFFING the title."
FELICIA: "Carlos Boozer just doesn't cut the mustard, boyoo."
SJH: "Y'see me, despite my flair for the FABULOUS—"
QUICK CUT TO: SJH, admiring himself and his yellow-pleathered jumpsuit, dollar sign shaped and diamond-encrusted sunglasses and a freshly-blushed face in the mirror. CUT TO: SJH's rant.
SJH: "...and the bit of fun we've had with your match tape notwithstanding, I'm the PRIME MINISTER of Gettin' SINISTER, spread your girly's legs and then I FINISH HER! Aaaand when it comes to taking home titles n' bustin' the domepieces of each and every poor soul unfortunate enough to cross my path along the way, I'm like MJ, Scottie Pippen, Optimus Prime, and the Pillsbury Dough-boy aaaaaall rolled into one!
Yeah, y'all had a good showing against a rough n' tumble type in Kevin Hardaway last week...but I had a squash of my own.... and you can bet your bottom dollar that right here, right now, ROUND TWO, your jackhole ass is goin' down, DOWN to the ground, GROUND like a two-dollar Juarez HO on a COCK laced with crack cocaine!"
Hart rises to his feet, the PAs rush the TV cart, the cushy chairs, and an unwitting Felicia off of the shot, and the green screen is replaced again with rocky cliffs, only now it's THUNDERING!
SJH: "Because this TOURNAMENT, the ULTRATITLE TOURNAMENT, is my ticket to a freight train rollin' down the rails toward an unparalleled feat in the annals of sports and entertainment!
This is the sh
(FCC)t I LIVE FOR! That and Family Ties re-runs..."
CUT TO: SJH, alone in his apartment, sitting on the floor in front of his television.
SJH: "What would you do, baby... without US!! What would ya doooooooo, baaay-beeeee.....without uuusss..."
CUT TO: The hype piece in progress.
SJH: "You two? Well, when this thing's all over...y'all can head back to the jungles of Timbuktu and eat all the people you want, win or lose...and everything's A-OK.
So by all means, bring your A-game, busted and unorthodox though it may be, and hit me with your best shot. In the end, I think this will end up bein' your exit. Because I MUST win! I MUST be Ultratitle CHAMPION! I MUST, I MUST, I MUST INCREASE MY BUST!
My very SANITY depends on it!"
*THUNDERCLAP!*
SJH: "Consider yourselves WARNED. Lord GaGa has left the building!"
FADE OUT.