Fade in to a shot of James Irish in an ill-fitting light grey suit, standing in a television studio. We can tell because we see a camera operator on camera, taking a coffee break next to his work equipment.
JI: So, round 2 is here, and somehow the Odd Couple of this tournament is still in it. Which means I need to get myself focused... or at least behave myself a little better. But, as you're about to find out, this job gets so much easier when you come across a team against whom the jokes just write themselves.
The new and improved DX... now, at this exact moment in time, people are expecting me to riff and joke about the DX name, history, membership, and so on and so on. But, you see, if you expect something... it's just not quite as funny as the unexpected. Ergo, there will be no references to any prior incarnations of DX, regardless of federation of origin. And besides, the part of the name I homed in on was "New and Improved."
Now, tell me, how many "new and improved" things do you know of that are truly both? To paraphrase a stand up comic who about ten years ago was on top of the television world, if something is really considered to be "new," how are you improving it? It would have to be "old" in order to need an improvement. In fact-
James is handed a note by an unseen arm coming from stage right.
JI: Ah... a restraining order from a man who isn't even telling this joke anymore. Hey, Erin, we got another one for the wall! Put this one next to the one from Snoop Dog!
James hands it to a second, female arm coming from stage left.
JI: Anyhow, it's usually the "improved" part that's really up to debate. Which is why I've gone through my extensive pop culture memorabilia library and came up with some real ringers for you folks out there in TV Land. These are new versions of old standards that were claimed to be improvements over the originals, or at the very least were so severely modified from their source materials that you could tell someone, somewhere thought he was making an improvement. History, however, has judged differently. Let's take a little look-see, shall we?
James walks to his right, the camera following him, and he walks right up to a poster of Malcom McDowell in a black suit with a purple tie, and an attractive brunette done up in a fetching "jungle girl" outfit.
JI: This is a promotional image for the "New and Improved" Fantasy Island series. ABC brought this out for their 1998 season, thinking an exotic locale and wild. And remember, this was during the time that Aaron Spelling, the show's creator, was the talk of the town again thanks to a string of successful, if somewhat dubious, shows on Fox. It didn't even last half a year. And, more importantly, they didn't even attempt to hire a midget to play Tattoo. For goodness sakes, it's not Fantasy Island without some little guy shouting "Da Plane! Da Plane!" That's like a Metroid Game without a gratuitous shot of Samus out of her armor. So, new? Yes. Improved? Hardly.
James walks a little further to his right, and into what is practically a forest of movie posters. All are remakes of old franchises, such as The Beverly Hillbillies, Planet of the Apes, The Mod Squad, The Avengers, Lost in Space, and others.
JI: This is much the same as my point on Fantasy Island. Every last one of these you see here is marred in some way or another, usually by poor scripting. I'll spare us all the pain of revisiting these disasters without the aid of the likes of Crow T. Robot, and just move on to an altogether different example.
James again takes a few steps to the right, away from the posters and to a bottle of soda on a pedestal, the back turned so you can't see the brand.
JI: Recognize this? It's an institution here in America, much like the DX name is slowly becoming in the wrestling business. And, let's be honest here, while I have yet to put the New and Improved DX to it's test, this new incarnation failed to demonstrate that it was improved. American consumers nearly to a man rejected this, proving that even a famous name cannot save swill.
James turns the bottle, revealing it to be New Coke.
JI: As a side note, you have no idea how much finding an existing bottle of this stuff cost me.
By now, I think you get the point. New and Improved rarely go together when they're used in conjunction with each other. But that hasn't stopped people. Now, this is not to say that my opponents aren't without their own merits. No, unlike the fizzy concoction next to me (which by now is probably as fizzy as a lump of coal), you guys are tested, in fact you're multi-time champs. But you're trying to fill the shoes of multi-time world champs. Being a one time, though current, world champ, I've got a decent inkling of what that's like by this point.
Now, to properly test whether you two truly are improved, I don't have to go to elaborate lengths. Irishred and I just have to kick your respective keisters from pillar to post this week. Put up the best fight you can, gentlemen.
Hmm... I wonder if I can make 'Red drink this...
James takes the bottle of New Coke and walks off. Fade out.
(Kyle Roberts is lounging on a couch in what seems to be a den. Posters behind him show a Carolina Hurricanes logo with the words "2006 Stanley Cup Champions" and the Carolina Panthers NFL logo, as well as some Edmonton sports posters like the Commonwealth Games and the Eskimos. Huh. must be the back room of the Nexus Club Sports Bar, Alberta's premiere wrestling hangout. Kyle Roberts, along with some other Edmonton wrestlers, have privileges beyond those of normal customers. Kyle's strumming a guitar. Badly. Remember when the Rock was strumming back after his return from Hollywood? Well, at least he knew basic chords.)
KYLE ROBERTS: Oh, hi. You just caught me in a moment of rest. Black Thursday II, NAPW's latest Pay-Per-View is in the books, and Rex Caliber's paying the tab for our afterparty.
(Kyle gets off the couch, walks to the door, and opens it. Immediately, there's a cacophony of drunken men shouting and singing. He closes the door, muffling the sounds.)
KYLE ROBERTS: I'll be joining them in a few. Hey, where there's a party? There's Stylin' Kyle Roberts bringin' the noise, bringin' the funk. But before playtime, it's high time I told our opponents just exactly who they're facing here.
Irishred. James Irish. You're good. I'll give you that. But you're not Kyle Roberts good. You're not Bruce Richards good. And you're certainly not New and Improved D-X good.
I know, I know. It was just last week that Bruce and I were talking about how our opponents last week, the Highland Park Social Club, lost to a guy who lost to us, making them a non-issue. Hey, who didn't take algebra around here? If A is greater than B, and B is greater than C...
But what would happen in this case? You two beat the Celtic Assassins last round. You beat the very men who now hold the NAPW tag team gold. The two guys who won them from us.
Am I disappointed that Bobby O'Brady and Al Thoes were the men who broke our record-shattering title run? Damn straight. Bruce and I? We didn't think we had any competition. We've been tag champs for six months! And the guys who took our titles away? Well, it's certainly looking like when it comes to the Celts, we're cursed. We just can't beat them when we meet them.
So Bruce and I have had time to think. To contemplate. To stew and simmer. The only way we can get this huge-ass monkey off our back? Bruce says the answer's obvious. It's by beating you two men. Only then can we get our rematch against the Celtic Assassins. Only then can we become the five-time NAPW tag team champions.
New and improved. That's what we're all about, right? Is it MY fault that Bruce and I were saddled with a gimmick just so the guys who ran our former federation could promote a D-X appearance? No. Is it Bruce's fault that all of a sudden, after our careers took off with NAPW, that two world champs down south decided they should rekindle their glory years and lay on the beach as the waves of nostalgia brought them some easy royalties? Hell no!
Is it our fault that was just didn't drop the gimmick right then and there? Call ourselves anything other than who we are? Well, yeah. But really, I'd rather be known for the being the clone so awesomely different from the original that I overshadow him rather than be one half of "Richards and Roberts", or "Gold Front" or some other lame-ass gimmick that our current federation would give us.
I haven't seen a "cease and desist" letter yet, so we're doing SOMETHING right, right?
So if you want to pick on the half of our name that everyone else seems to ignore, just so you can feel better than every lameass who's tried to knock us off our game by beating that D-X horse into the ground.
I'll give you points for trying. With our loss to the Assassins, I certainly don't FEEL improved.
But after we flat out outwrestle you in Los Angeles? When we advance to the next rung of this tournament and eventually grab that brass ring we're all going for? Well, my mood's going to change.
But don't feel bad, Irishred, Jimmy. At least the two of you can glean something out of the loss you'll experience. You two can tell your grandchildren that you were the guys that Kyle Roberts and Bruce Richards faced when they truly became New and Improved again.
(Kyle looks towards the door.)
KYLE ROBERTS: Now, if you two will excuse me, there's carousing to be done.
(Kyle leaves the couch and exits the den, leaving the guitar leaning in the camera's POV.)
I'm not going to touch the name. I'm not going to touch the fact that my partner and I dominated the team the took the belts from our competitors this week. I'm not going to talk trash. I'm not going to insult anyone. I'm not going to get upset with my partners antics. I'm not going to make this into an extreme match. I'm not going to get mad. I'm not going to use this match to make a statement. I'm just going to wrestle. I'm just going to treat this match and tournament with the respect that they deserve. I'm going to realize that the comedic genius of my partner is essential to the success of this team. I understand that Erin is the most important part of this team. I'm smart, I'm lovable and dang-it...people like me...
The camera pulls back and we see Irishred sitting cross legged on the floor in front of a camera. Irishred is reading from a piece of paper by candlelight.
Oh my freaking God. This is the last time that I let James write a promo for me.
Listen NIDX...your chances of winning this match are about as great as me living by that ridiculous mantra that was given to me by James.
I'll do whatever it takes to win this match. I'll break the rules, I'll make fun of your ridiculous name, I'll haul the freaking Celtics to ring side to distract you, I'll bleed, I'll cheat, I'll make whatever sacrifice necessary.
Here's the bottom line NIDX...I'm one of the most dangerous men in wrestling and I'm really close to losing my cool and that's something that no one in this match, including my partner, wants.
(Bruce Richards is sitting in his apartment, leaning back on his couch with his feet up on the coffee table. Without his cowboy hat and black leather duster, he looks nearly unremarkable; his hair's a little shaggier than he usually keeps it, and he's wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that says "Never Trust The Beast". We can hear Sonny Rollins's "You Don't Know What Love Is" in the background, and he's tapping his feet together in time to the rhythm. He takes a sip from his coffee, then addresses the camera.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: It's getting towards the end of December, and that means it's time for things to wind down. The NAPW just had its last show of the year, Black Thursday II, and now I've got over two weeks off before Kyle and I go back to Polish Hall. Three weeks off. Usually I don't do well with time off. Sure, I like a few days off to relax, spend some quality time with Tiffany, but then...it all dries up. I just sit around impotently, stewing and thinking about the first match back, and all the different ways I can take my opponents to task. I can read or go to the gym, but there's always a little voice at the back of my mind reminding me that I should really be doing something else with my time. Right now, though? Even though I have fifteen days between The New & Improved D-X's title rematch, I'm not that antsy. For a couple of reasons.
BRUCE RICHARDS: First of all, it's the holidays. Most people get stressed out during the holidays. Running around all over the place, in the crowded shopping malls, trying to pick up just the right gift for everyone on their list. Living in the city with the largest shopping mall in North America, it just makes it worse. You'd think that people would use their brains and realize that everyone's going to that *******ed mall, so maybe they should think of somewhere else to go, but no. Because people are idiots. Every year, there are idiots in cars driving repeatedly around that commercial eyesore, desperately looking for a parking spot, just for the privelege of going inside and being bumped, pushed, and shoved by a thousand other idiots while terrible music is pumped overhead like bad air freshener. People's tempers get short, they snap at their children and their loved ones, and they feel like they're being spread too thin with holiday obligations. (He shrugs.) I don't understand it myself. People keep going to malls when there's this handy little invention called the internet. I stay in my house feeling comfortable, listen to the music that I want to listen to, and I get everything done in half the time. Plus, Christmas is the only time you can buy Eggnog, which is delicious on its own (lifts his mug to the camera) or as an addition to coffee. Yes sir, this year the holidays are a hell of a time to be Bruce Richards.
(He takes another sip, then sits up and puts his coffee mug on the table.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: The second reason I'm not getting stressed out this time of the year is because of the MCW. Kyle and I were very honoured to be invited to the MCW Tag Team Tournament, and we're more than happy to bring our best to this tournament and show why the NAPW in general, and The New & Improved D-X in particular, are getting the buzz all over North America. One round down, and we're still standing, better than we ever did, looking like true survivors. And now we have to face James Irish and Irishred, the guys who managed to take down the Celtic Assassins last round. James Irish seems like a nice enough guy; he's got a sense of humour, a little talent, and the kind of attitude that just makes the crowd get behind him. And Irishred, the veteran, the angry old man, the classic-rock-loving hardass. He seems a little stressed out. He's "really close to losing his cool". And I don't think it's because he's been spending day after day at his local mall looking for just the right set of collectable beer glasses for his tag team partner.
(Bruce Richards strokes his beard, and smiles.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: Red - may I call you Red? - I need you to close your eyes and take three deep breaths. You're not going to be good for anything if you're this stressed out. I understand why you're stressed. You're going up against The New & Improved D-X: that would stress anyone out. If I was told that I was going up against The New & Improved D-X, I'd be writing up a will, at least until I realized that I had somehow been transported to Earth-2 and was facing myself. But I'm digressing.
Red, you have to understand that the fear you're feeling is natural. Instead of turning it into bravado and bluster, you should just embrace it. Make friends with it. Because the way you're going, you're going to have an anyeurism before you make it to the ring. You can tell me that I will respect you until you're blue in the face and it won't make me intimidated. You should just let your accomplishments speak for yourself. You're the Number One Contender for the Cyber Title, for pete's sake! And you're wasting your breath telling me that you're going to bleed and cheat and somehow lasso the Celtic Assassins and drag them to ringside, as if that would shake me? Please. You're barking up the wrong tree.
(Bruce straightens up and gestures at his shirt.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: See this shirt? I haven't worn it in a while. Sure, it looks DAMN good, but I haven't really thought about what it meant for a while. Until recently, that is. You're one of the most dangerous men in wrestling, Red? You're going to take things as far as you can to win this match? Who the **** do you think you're going to intimidate? You're sneaky? Kyle's sneakier. You're tough? I'm tougher. You're angry? I can guarantee that I can get angrier. All you need to do is see what I've accomplished in the past fourteen months in the NAPW. Sure, we've had our bad days, but our good days are spectacular. You think that doesn't matter? You think you bring something more to the table than The Crimes, The Bi-Polar Express, The Celtic Assassins? Then put your money where your mouth is. If you want me to respect you, as you're so fond of saying in those A1E tapes I was reviewing, you're going about it the wrong way. The New & Improved D-X are cutting a wide swath in this tournament. You want to get in the way? Be my guest. That's something I can respect you for. But if you think that we're another win all wrapped up for you with a shiny red bow? (Smiles and shakes his head.) That makes you a bigger idiot than those poor chumps who are wasting time at The Mall. You think The New & Improved D-X are going down? That's not going to happen. TRUST me.
(Bruce Richards is standing in an airport by the baggage carousel beside Tiffany, his petite blonde girlfriend. He's leaning on his cane, she's leaning on him. They're watching the suitcases go around and around, waiting patiently. Tiffany pops her head up and looks around.)
TIFFANY: Have you seen them yet?
BRUCE RICHARDS: Nope. Haven't really been looking, though.
TIFFANY: You're not worried? This is a big airport.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Kyle can look after Amy.
TIFFANY:(Rolling her eyes.) It's not Amy I'm worrying about.
BRUCE RICHARDS:(Bending over to pick up some luggage.) Amy's not going to get lost in an airport bathroom, and Kyle's mature enough to behave himself unsupervised for ten minutes.
(Bruce and Tiffany look up and find Kyle Roberts piloting a scooter through the crowd, careening around jet-lagged passengers and honking its tiny horn. A few feet behind him, shoulders hunched and a black cloud nearly visible over her head, stomps his girlfriend Amy.)
TIFFANY: Oh lord.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Five minutes in the United States and he regresses twenty years.
KYLE ROBERTS:(Pulling up to a short stop.) Hey Bruce! Look what I found!
BRUCE RICHARDS:(Rubbing the back of his head.) You really need that?
KYLE ROBERTS: Of course I don't need it. But it's awesome! It keeps me off my feet when I'm walking through this god-forsaken airport, and I'm going to need two strong feet - and two strong legs - to defeat The Irishes!
BRUCE RICHARDS: We're calling them The Irishes now?
KYLE ROBERTS:I am!
AMY:(Catching her breath.) You couldn't...let me catch a ride?
KYLE ROBERTS: Amy, please! If you had ridden along, where would there be room for all the baggage?
AMY: We didn't have any baggage back at the other end of the airport.
KYLE ROBERTS: But we do now. (Leaps off and starts piling suitcases on the scooter.) Man, Bruce, I can't wait to get in that ring and kick me some blarney stones!
BRUCE RICHARDS: You're pretty gung ho about this match.
KYLE ROBERTS:(Pounds his fist into his palm.) You better believe it. I'm going to get in that ring and murderize those guys. Bam! Moose Jaw Driver. Bam! Polarizer. Bam! Emerald Fusion. And then one, two, three, those limey bastards will be down for the count.
BRUCE RICHARDS: You're aware that they're not actually FROM Ireland, right?
KYLE ROBERTS:(Waving his hands.) Bruce, you're missing the point. If we can beat TWO Irish guys, then beating one guy from Ireland and one guy from Wales will be a piece or cake!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Kyle...
KYLE ROBERTS: It's a well-known fact that Welshmen are dirty thieves with weak stomachs!
BRUCE RICHARDS: I didn't know that.
KYLE ROBERTS: Of course you didn't; I just made it up. But that's not the point. The point is: when we beat The Irishes, we'll be in great shape for the--
BRUCE RICHARDS: I think you're missing the point. You're focusing too much on the wrong opponents.
TIFFANY: Besides, Kyle, we're in Los Angeles.
AMY: Los Angeles, Kyle. Remember, you promised to take me around sightseeing.
KYLE ROBERTS: I did? When? I don't remember saying that.
(Amy pulls out a video iPod and cues up a file.)
KYLE ROBERTS:(From the iPod.) Tell you what. If you REALLY want to go with us-
AMY:(From the iPod.) And I do.
KYLE ROBERTS:(From the iPod.) -we're going to be going back for the second round, the third round, whatever it takes for Bruce and I to show this promotion just what it takes to be the most dominant tag team in North America. So we can actually plan a weekend of stuff to do.
AMY: The digital age is a wonderful thing.
KYLE ROBERTS:(Gaping.) I...you...we...
BRUCE RICHARDS:(Clapping Kyle on the back.) Looks like you're in for a weekend of sightseeing, chum...p.
TIFFANY: What do you mean, he's in for a weekend of sightseeing? You think I came here for your health?
BRUCE RICHARDS:(Crestfallen.) Crap.
TIFFANY: You guys! You should be happy to be here in L.A. There's plenty of stuff to do! AMY: There's shopping on Rodeo Drive, looking at the houses of the stars, getting a fresh seaweed facial…
KYLE ROBERTS: Uh-LAAAYYYMMMME!
BRUCE RICHARDS: It sounds like Kyle and I would get bored pretty quick.
TIFFANY: When you came down here for the Dupree Cup, where did you go? Disneyland and Medieval Times. You’ve DONE your fun stuff here. Now it’s Amy and Tiffany time.
KYLE ROBERTS:(Hopefully.) Amy Time? Now? Better yet, Amy AND Tiffany Time? Oh, god, this is the stuff dreams are made of!
BRUCE RICHARDS, AMY & TIFFANY: What? No!
AMY: Hold on there, Romeo. It’s not THAT time.
KYLE ROBERTS: Too late. I’m already there in my head. (Kyle closes his eyes.) Oh, yeah. That’s the ticket. Whoa! Hey, there, Bruce. Don’t you think that’s a little personal?
(Kyle opens his eyes, only to see that the other three have left him alone. He runs to catch up.)
KYLE ROBERTS: Hey! Wait up!
* * *
(Cut to Kyle and Bruce outside of a ritzy store. Kyle’s looking in through the window.)
KYLE ROBERTS: You gotta be KIDDING me! Dolce & Gabbana? Amy’s going to spend a month’s salary in there!
BRUCE RICHARDS: It’s her salary, Kyle. It’s not like she’s spending any of your money.
KYLE ROBERTS: It’s the principle of the thing! If she wanted to spend too much money on clothes, she could easily do it at West Edmonton Mall.
BRUCE RICHARDS:(Out of nowhere.) I really wish you’d keep me out of your fantasies.
KYLE ROBERTS: Holds up. Whenever you appear, you usually ruin things. It’s not like I’m lusting after you.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Then would you at least keep Tiffany out of them?
KYLE ROBERTS: Come on, Bruce! Cute blonde, hot brunette? How many people have what we’ve got?
BRUCE RICHARDS: Archie Andrews.
KYLE ROBERTS: Exactly! We’ve got the Veronica Lodge/Betty White deal going on here!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Betty Cooper.
KYLE ROBERTS: Who?
BRUCE RICHARDS: Betty White was on the Golden Girls. Betty Cooper’s the girl who pines after Archie. Also, your analogy doesn’t work out, because both girls aren’t going after you.
KYLE ROBERTS: When I close my eyes they are.
BRUCE RICHARDS: That’s a good way to lose the one you’ve got.
(Amy and Tiffany exit the store with a bag each.)
TIFFANY: Okay! To our next stop!
* * *
(Cut to a large warehouse full of furniture. The two couples are in the middle of it.)
BRUCE RICHARDS: H.D. Buttercup Furniture Mart?? Where the hell did you find out about this place?
TIFFANY: I’ve got my sources. (Tiffany and Amy stop to look at some wicker chairs as Kyle and Bruce keep walking.)
KYLE ROBERTS: So, what’s our plan for tomorrow evening?
BRUCE RICHARDS: We hit the ring. We show Irishred and James Irish why we are the most dominant tag team in North America. We go on to the next round.
KYLE ROBERTS: Did you SEE their match last round? There was an eight-minute brawl between Irishred and Bobby O’Brady that ended up going all throughout the arena!
BRUCE RICHARDS: If that’s what they expect this time around, those two will get a rude awakening. We got into wrestling for the passion of actually grappling with somebody in the ring, not for throwing somebody into the wall or using a steel chair to knock them out.
KYLE ROBERTS: You think I’m the kind of guy who can go toe to toe with monsters that brawl? Why do you think I’m all about the speedy quick stuff? Impact’s the way to go, not slapfests. If you end up locking up with Irishred for a half hour, I’m going to get bored and stop that crap. Or get a hot dog.
BRUCE RICHARDS: We definitely gave the fans what they wanted to see last time against the Social Club. A half hour of good old-fashioned wrestling. Followed up by our trademark, the Down and Dirty.
KYLE ROBERTS: Man, it’s going to be swell to Polarize one of those guys. Who the hell would swig down New Coke when it first came out in the Eighties, let alone twenty years after it was killed? How much did James Irish have to pay for that on eBay? Nah, give me a good ol’ Pepsi any day! It was the choice of a new generation!
BRUCE RICHARDS: At least he deemed us worthy to trash talk. Irishred must have taken a few too many bumps on the head last week, if he thinks bringing out the Celtic Assassins is going to distract us.
KYLE ROBERTS: How awesome will it be when you give him one big fat moonsault? A three-count for the ref, and that’s it. Kyle and Bruce, moving on to the next round!
AMY: Kyle, look! It’s an authentic Japanese tea set!
KYLE ROBERTS:(Looking at the box.) Wabi Sabi? What does that mean?
TIFFANY: It’s the name of the manutailer.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Manutailer? That’s it, I’m getting out of here.
TIFFANY: What, you can make up words but they’re not allowed to?
BRUCE RICHARDS: Imitational IS a word!
TIFFANY: Sure, sure. (Turns to Amy.) Do you have everything?
AMY: Sure do.
KYLE ROBERTS:(Exasperated.) Finally.
TIFFANY: On to Kitsons!
* * *
(Cut to another store; Kyle and Bruce are sitting on a bench, surrounded by bags, heads in their hands, looking glum.)
AMY:(Runs giggling behind them.) Invigorating Night Gel by Ole Henriksen!
KYLE ROBERTS: This was a bad idea. Way to go, Bruce.
BRUCE RICHARDS:(Elbows him.) It was your idea, dumbass.
KYLE ROBERTS: Way to not talk me out of it, dumbass.
BRUCE RICHARDS:(Sighs.) I’m just trying to focus on anything other than shopping. TIFFANY:(Runs the other direction, screeching.) Oh my god! Look at this L.A.M.B. Saddle Mandeville Bag! This would go SO WELL with your shoes!
BRUCE RICHARDS: But it’s hard not to.
KYLE ROBERTS: Just do what I do.
BRUCE RICHARDS: What’s that?
KYLE ROBERTS: Imagine pounding James Irish’s head into the mat, over and over and over again. (Mimes the actions.) This! Is for! My girlfriend’s! FIFTEEN pairs! Of SHOES!
BRUCE RICHARDS: Yeah. Or latching Irishred up in a Torture Rack. (Puts his hands over his head.) I’ll keep TALKING. About ACCESSORIES. Until you SAY. “I QUIT!”
(Amy and Tiffany runs up to each other behind the bench.)
AMY: Did you see…?
TIFFANY: The Caramel Soy candles! I KNOW!
AMY: This is going to be the best wrestling show EVER!
(The girls squeal and run off in different directions.)
KYLE ROBERTS: You know, I kind of liked it better when they didn’t get along.
BRUCE RICHARDS: They’re right about something, though.
KYLE ROBERTS: You’re right; caramel candles are a good idea.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Yes, they are, but that’s not what I meant.
KYLE ROBERTS: …you like Amy’s bag?
BRUCE RICHARDS: No! What I meant was they’re right when they say that this is going to be a hell of a show.
KYLE ROBERTS: No kidding. The New & Improved D-X, soon-to-be-five time NAPW Tag Team Champions, versus The Irishes, who have held…many belts between them.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Mostly on Irishred’s side.
KYLE ROBERTS: They’re great wrestlers, aren’t they Bruce?
BRUCE RICHARDS: They sure are, Kyle. But you know what they aren’t?
KYLE ROBERTS: What?
BRUCE RICHARDS: A great team.
KYLE ROBERTS:(Smiling.) Yeah. When they get in the ring, we’re going to have a fight on our hands.
BRUCE RICHARDS: We’re going to work our assses off, because everywhere we go out on one of these interpromotional matches, every time we wrestle a great show --
KYLE ROBERTS: Which is basically any time we wrestle.
BRUCE RICHARDS: -- we get more fans. More people inevitably fall in love with the best tag team on the continent, the one, the only, The New & Improved D-X.
KYLE ROBERTS: And when we come back for the next round - and we will come back - we're going to have to remember to bring more shirts. We’re almost out of the medium “I’ve Prepared Some Charts” shirts. BRUCE RICHARDS:(Smiling happily.) Always a classic.
TIFFANY: Okay, boys, we’re done here. Just one more place to go.
BRUCE RICHARDS: Come on, girls. We’re DYING here.
AMY: It’s not so bad.
KYLE ROBERTS: You don’t know that! It’s not like you ever sit around for what seems like hours while Bruce and I scream our hearts out at stuff you have no interest in!
TIFFANY: …right. Well, trust us, you’re going to like this place. KYLE ROBERTS: I find that hard, and difficult, and hard to believe.
* * *
(Cut to a Mideival Times restaurant, where the Black Knight has just been knocked down by the Red Knight. Amy, Kyle, Bruce, and Tiffany are sitting in their seats. Well, the girls are sitting. The guys are on their feet.)
KYLE ROBERTS:(Brandishing a whole Cornish game hen.) YEAH! Tear his HEART OUT!!
BRUCE RICHARDS:(Raising his mug of grog.) Huzzah for the Red Knight! (He and Kyle cling mugs then drink them down.)
KYLE ROBERTS: Wench! More ale!
KYLE ROBERTS: What? We’re SUPPOSED to call them wenches!
(The Red Knight goes in for the coup de grace, but the Black Knight throws sand in his face and he kicks him over.)
It's another bright and sunny day in LA-LA Land, as we pan down to find a lovely park scene. James Irish and Irishred are standing beside a park bench, cooling down from some serious training. Erin is sitting on the bench, writing something down in a notepad.
James: Hoo... that was something else. Two hours straight, sheesh.
Red: Hmmph. It wasn't bad.
Erin: Boys, now would be a good time fer ye both t' focus on the next tag team match. We've been doin' our own things for a good while lately, we need t' plan.
James: Well, alright then, we need a game plan for the Diminutive Xeroxes, Red. Obviously, these two mean business. I mean, look at them shop! These guys and their significant others would make Duchess blush!
Red: James, I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or if you really mean what you're saying.
James: A little bit of both this time, really. Still, these guys are multi-time tag team champions, we can joke around and make Stuart Smalley affirmations all we want, and it's probably not going to do much.
Red: Yeah, they might have won a couple belts here and there, but guess what?
James: Chicken butt?
Red: NO, not that again! Seriously, these guys were just beaten for the tag team titles by the Celtic Assassins.
James: The Cel- OH!!! The guys we beat before!
Erin: *not even looking up* Lads, if ye really think that "If A beats B and B beats C, therefore A beats C" stuff is going t' work, yer both nuts.
James: She does have kind of a point. We went from... well, you and that Bobby fellow went past what I thought was your limit in that match. Those guys weren't pushovers. And they ended a tag title run that was pretty damn long, even for the current state of the wrestling world. Somehow I get the funny feeling that these Dilapidated X-Rays are going to be a better match than you're giving them credit for.
Red: ... "Dilapidated X-Rays" Exactly how long did it take you to come up with that?
Red: Don't answer that.
Erin sighs and turns back to the guys.
Erin: Come on, now. We've been over this before. Each of these teams was invited here because they're exceptionally good at this. We're probably th' only group in here that only teams up on a semi-regular basis. Beating the Celtic Assassins was one thing, because I think they were taken by surprise on your individual strengths. If we expect that t' happen again, if you'll parden the expression, ye won't be kissin' the blarney stone, it'll be smashed upside yer skulls.
Red: No wonder you kept her around after that one Bloody New Year. She's got a keen enough grasp of the obvious to keep even you focused.
James: Well, yeah, I- HEY!!!
Red: Seriously, she's right. This is probably as good a time as any to start getting serious as a team. We might not be able to compete for the tag belts back home at A1E thanks to the rules about champions not being allowed to hold two titles, but at least we can start coordinating better for the instances where we do team up, which are getting to be a bit more frequent.
James: Sounds like a plan, my man. Let's toast on it, in fact I've got just the thing. We brought this in special for ya.
James pulls out a bottle from the cooler, and is careful not to show Red the brand. He pours him a cup-full, in a cup pulled from the basket.
Red: Oh, really?
James hands it to Red, who takes a swig.
James: Yup. 20 plus year old New Coke.
Red immediately spits it right out... in Erin's face.
Erin: AAAH!! This is a new outfit you... you...
She looks down at her new outfit... then shakes with a rage that would make a psychopath think twice.
Red: James... if we live through this... NEVER do that to me again!
James: Your command is my wish! RUN!!
The two run for their lives as the closing theme from the Benny Hill Show plays. Fade out after about a minute of chasing.
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