WSE 2008 : Royal Royal '08

[THE Mac Bry v2]

[The screen opens to the black and white vision of forty men... all standing within one wrestling ring...]

words upon the screen:
>>> 40 men... 4 titles...<<<

[The forty men begin tearing into eachother... ripping eachother to shreds...]

words upon the screen:
>>> and in the end... only ONE will walk out... as the World Sports Entertainment Champion... <<<

[As the smoke clears, and the dust settles, one man is left standing tall...]

words upon the screen:
>>> and that man IS... <<<

[Suddenly, just as the camera is about to get a good, clear look at the guy, the screen goes to static. We open to Jack Hoff's office, where he is staring at his screen...]

Jack: ... What the hell?! That video was supposed to end with me, standing tall with the World Sports Entertainment Title! What just happened?! SUNNUVA -



+++++++++++++++++
November 15th, 2008
Live (on tape) on Pay-Per-View!
+++++++++++++++++

PYRO! BY! GOD!

And then...

["Sweat Pants in Hell" hits.]

[Jack Hoff saunters out through the curtain, microphone gripped firmly within his chubby fingers...]

Jack: Excuse me ladies and gentlemen...

*silence*

Jack: I SAID EXCUSE ME!

*canned jeering*

Jack: I wish I could talk over you thousands and thousands of booing FANS!

Some random homeless bum: Blowjob fer a quarter!

Jack: ... Are you the ONLY guy in the audience?

SRHB: ... Well... there's this here cardboard cutout I done gave head to... but he aint gave me no damn quarter. Just a mouth full ah... well... cardboard!

Jack: ... SECURITY!

Security dude: What, ya want me to drag this dude out?

Jack: Hell no! I want you to make DAMN sure he doesn't leave! I haven't had a good bj in five fuckin' years!

Security dude: ... Uh...

Jack: Now then! It seems like SOMEBODY tampered with my opening video to this pay-per-view extra-ava-ganza, so, what I'm going to do...

Jack: ... is cancel the Royal Royal.

SHRB: Wait... ain't this here show CALLED the Royal Royal? And there ain't gunna be no damn Royal Royal match? Man, I'm full ah crack, whiskey, AND wacky tobacky, and I STILL knows that don't make no gat dam sense!

Jack: Well too fuckin' bad! I want to get this show over with so I can go to the truck and find out who the f' f'ed with my f'in video tape!

SHRB: It was probably raYne!

Jack: IT BETTER NOT! One, I fired his ass... and two, I don't have his return scheduled until next May! So... nyah!

SHRB: :^P

Jack: Anyhell, I'm going to make this short and sweet. There's now four titles in this company, one of which is MINE, MINE, ALL MINE!!!~!1!... Ahem. But, the other four are totally vacant. So, what I'm going to do is have a little Screwdriver Series action!

SHRB: What the hell's that?

Jack: I'm glad you asked that!

SHRB: Well, ya paid me a quarter fer sayin' it before the show started, so I felt obligated.

Jack: ... I'm starting to rethink what I had security do with your sorry ass. Maybe you SHOULD be out on the street! But I don't have time to worry about that right now. The rules are simple. This is because, before making the rules, the booker I had book this was given forty screwdriver drinks, and well... he's fuckin' drunk as hell. So, here's how it goes. One team will consist of a wig, a midget, a guy who only says things that rhyme with "DAMN!", and some mook named R-Kwik.

SHRB: WASSAP!

Jack: ... Yup. And they will be taking on "Drunk Ass" Austin Stevens... D-Generation LAX... and my main man, my new bodyguard ; Redd...W...BLOO!

SHRB: I smell a squash... Or that might just be muh horrendously bad breath...

Jack: The last team standing after eliminations and whatnot will be a Winner is You.

SHRB: ... Huh?

Jack: Now, I'm going back to the production truck, to see just who in the lime green hell screwed up MY video package!

["Sweat Pants in Hell" plays and - ]

Jack: Oh, by the way, "Scalded Dawg" Boom Boom Quaker, wherever you may be... I know you're severely injured from me falling on top of you... I know you've been stuck to writing the news report for the rest of your life... and I especially know you were dead set on serving as a trusty news columnist for me via the Rest Hold. Well.... I'm sorry. BUT YOU'RE SUSPENDED INDEFIIINNNAAATTTEEELLLYYY!!!~!!1 Suck on that, BITCH!!!

Wes: Wow... Uh...

Rex: Hey! I just remembered something!

Wes: ...

Rex: We just passed the thirteen and one third minute of the show!

Wes: ... And?

Rex: Ya know? Thirteen and one third minutes! ... 800 seconds!

Wes: Ok?

Rex: Well, WWE was hyping up their 800th episode of Raw like it was something special. Well how about 800 seconds! ... Of our FIFTH episode! ...

Wes: ... Folks, we'll be right back after these -

Rex: Seriously Wes! I mean it! This is a landmark event! This show should run three hours or something! Or maybe even four! OR FIVE! Yeah, ya know... five hours? FIVE EPISODES! ... Ya know?!

Wes: ...

- ads -

[Jack is walking to the production truck. He makes it there, rips the door open, and begins to yell.]

Jack: WHO SCREWED WITH MY TAPE?!?!?!

Some guy: Uh... This is a port-a-potty dude... I'm shitting?

Jack: ... But the narrator said this is a production truck?

Some guy: Well, I don't know man, but this is definitely a port-a-potty. It's like... about as big as a closet...

Jack: Oh... yeah, didn't notice that. I guess I'll get off of your lap now.

Some guy: That'll work.

[Jack gets off the guy's lap and exits the... port-a-potty. Sorry about that, boss.]

Jack: Meh... it happens. I just wish that guy wouldn't have pissed all over me when I first walked in...

[Jack walks toward the producion truck... checks to make sure it really IS a production truck... and when he sees it is, he storms inside.]

Jack: Ahem... WHO SCREWED WITH MY TAPE?!?!?!?!?

[Whoops...]

Jack: Whaddya mean 'whoops'?

[Er... well, this is the production truck for TNA iMPACT.

Jack: ... What's it doing here in Nowhere, Oklahoma?

[... It's on vacation?]

Jack: ... That explains it. Well, while I'm here.

[Jack bitch slaps everyone in the truck.]

Jack: That's for running about a million "Rough Cut" segments... and THIS -

[Jack bitch slaps everyone in the truck... again. But harder.]

Jack: - Is for running twice as many crappy promos as you do matches!

Production person: Hey, you're gonna have to take that up with the writers. And Uncle Russo and Dutchy are both vacationing in New York. The Ru says Oklahoma's full of too many damn rednecks.

Jack: Well, the Ru needs tah know his role and shut his mouth and kiss my candy ass and JUST BRING IT!

Production person: That's The ROCK... Not-

Jack: IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT'S THE ROCK, YA POODY ROO JABRONIE BALONIE, IF YA SMELL WHAT JACK HOFF IS COOKIN'! Cuz FINALLY... The Hoff... is gettin' the F' out!

Production person: Good.

Jack: ... of the production truck.

Production person: Yeah, I know. I said good.

Jack: ...

Production person: Good bye... You can leave now.

Jack: ... COOKIN'!

Production person: You already SAID that!

Jack: And that's the bottom line, cuz -

Production person: Oh for christ sake! Jimmy, text that other production truck. You know, the one that works for THIS company... WSE or whatever... and tell them to run an ad.

"Jimmy": Done, and don-

- ads -

Wes: Now THAT's what I call a match, folks!

Rex: ... What match?

Wes: You know! The one that just occured! The ONLY match! The curtain jerker as well as the main event! THE SCREWDRIVER SERIES!

Rex: ... When exactly did that happen?

Wes: Folks, in case you missed it -

Rex: Which is pretty obvious they did, as I'm sitting right here in front of the damn ring and I STILL missed it... somehow...

Wes: - D-Generation LAX won the 4-play tag belts, "Drunk Ass" Austin Stevens won the Applecore Title... and as the leader of the team, Redd W. Bloo won The Only Secondary Title That Matters.

Rex: Yeah, I'm sure no one saw THAT coming from a mile away...

[Suddenly, the camera switches to the production truck... which is actually the WSE production truck this time... where Jack is...]

[... Jack's layed out! And the World Sports Entertainment title's laying across his chest...]

[...it appears to have been spray painted across...]

[...with a name?]

[...]

["Reeve."]

(A black cloaked figure steps into the picture... holding a tape within his hand... He drops it at Jack's feet.)

(The cackling laughter of this cloaked figure is heard... echoing throught the truck...)

[The figure rips off the hood of his cloak... revealing a painted face... almost like that of the famed WCW legend / current TNA star, Sting. A white face, with black streaks beneath the eyes, and black lips... And long, raven black hair.]

[The man crouches down at Jack Hoff's feet... and stares at the fallen Chairman's face... Jack's eyes closed shut.]

[Reeve speaks.]

Reeve: I am Reeve... I Am the man who vandalized your tape... and upon the night of January 31st, at "Royal Royal 2009"? I WILL BE...

Reeve: ... World Sports Entertainment Champion.

Reeve: For now... you are. But soon... VERY soon...

- iAm -