We’re back from commercial.
Monroe: This has been an amazing night, Marcum! The Bastardos seem to be secure in their “dominance”…
Madman: Why shouldn’t they be? In 24 hours, they’ve solidified their power base, expanded membership, and have shown the unified front that the old members didn’t have!
Monroe is about to answer, but the lights suddenly dim. The Cheese-O-Tron comes alive with the image of a familiar-looking man sitting at a mahogany desk. Behind him is a familiar-looking logo crossed out with crayon. The “new” logo is written next to it in red crayon. The nameplate on the desk reads “Billionaire Vince”.
BV: Are we on yet? I wanna get this over with. My wife is in Norwalk and Bitch Status is in my limo. I’ve got a date with a great BJ and I…
Off-Camera Voice: You’re on, Sir.
BV: Shit, really? (adjusts himself) Hello, RDCW fans! I’m sure you know me. I’m the Owner, President, CEO, and Genetic Jackhammer of your major competitor. I run a national wrestling promotion and I’m sure you all watch my shows regularly. After all, we’re on four nights a week! You can’t miss us!
The crowd collectively moans. Chants of “RDCW!” are starting up.
BV: The reason I’m here, on your so-called “main show” is because I wanted to let you in on some very exciting news! You see, I noticed you a few months ago. I think it was your “Arma-Gadda-Da-Vidda” pay-per-view. Your promotion has been in my backyard for over a year and I never even knew! So I’ve been watching you closely. My first thought was “OH! So THAT’S where a good chunk of my promotion’s audience went!” Then, after a few of your “Havoc”s, I thought, “Wow…those guys are really talented! I haven’t seen moves like those since I banned excitement from our house shows and pay-per-views!” By the time your “RDCW Rumble” came along, I was telling people “Not only does their wrestling blow ours away, but the storylines are superior in every way! And their Big Men can wrestle, too! When was the last time you saw one of our Big Men actually wrestle, much less lift a leg to perform a basic Leg Drop, without needing to see a surgeon the next morning?”
Well, none of my toadies…I mean, “Yes Men”…I mean “Writer and Bookers” could answer me. And this last pay-per-view, “No Way Out Of The Closet”, made my mind up for me. This promotion is taking away too many of MY fans! You’re eating away at MY buy-rates. And, frankly, everything about your promotion is making me look like a laughingstock! So I decided to do the only thing I could do in my position…No, I didn’t hire better writers. No, I didn’t book better talent or fire our deadweight (MY catch-phrase was copyrighted by the bad comb over-having billionaire)! I made your Owner and CEO, Mr. Kramphoo…Kamphorse…”ROB(!!!)” an offer to buy out your promotion! And do you know what he said to me?
Some of the crowd is booing, but there’s a hush to hear exactly what Rob Kamphausen said.
BV: He told me to FUCK OFF!!!
The crowd cheers!
BV: Then he suggested that I perform oral and sexual treats on May NotYoung and deliver her hand-baby!!!
The crowd cheers!!!
BV: Don’t you cheer for him! I’m a Billionaire, dammit! I’m a morally corrupt, creatively bankrupt, washed-up Billionaire!
More cheers!!!
BV: So let me tell you where I’m at with this! I drove a much better, more extreme, promotion under and I bought out my closest competitor when it was worse than my promotion! I’m not about to ignore the RDCW! I want to own it and, by God, I’m gonna own it! So consider this my “Hostile Takeover” Announcement!
The crowd boos him.
BV: Admit it! You’d love to see your Heavyweight Champion, King Snarf, wrestle and job out to my son-in-law, Crippled H! (boos) You’re dying for Joe Mama to face off against The Shmuck and his People’s Eyebrow! (boos) What fan wouldn’t want to see PenWing and Captain Sammitch battle my tag team Champion, Rob Gawd Damn/Gay Mystery-boy. Nowhereman versus UndiesTaker is an instant classic! And rumor says that Chris Oakley has been dying to fight Kurt Angle – well, I can make it happen! Charlie…James Fantastic…NotWedge, uh, Johnny Evil…Wednesday…Spandex Monkey Man…with these guys on my roster, I could fire half my own roster and use the money to see a movie. Alone.
The entire crowd is chanting “RDCW! RDCW!!!”
BV: And the women! Why, with the ladies on your roster, I could get rid of the trannies I’ve been parading around for the last five years! Don Marty could go back to her Bronx street corner! Crusty HemmeRoid could get those hair plugs she needs! But I’d keep Bitch. Gotta have Bitch…ohhhhhhhh….uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…
Off-Camera Voice: Boss!
BV: Huh? Whuzzat? OH! Anyways…fans of the RDCW, I will own your promotion! If it takes a week, a month, or a year, I’ll hold your promotion in the palm of my hands!
He cups his hands together. From off-camera, a large man with bleach-blond hair and a bad handlebar moustache that barely hides his huge nose walks on-screen. The crowd starts chanting “You Suck!”
Crippled H: Did you call me, Dad? I mean, “Vince”…
BV: No…what would I need with you?
CH: Well, my balls were tingling. And I see your hands are cupped. Do you want me to drop my pan…
BV: GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE!!!
CH: Eep! (runs off)
BV: Just remember, RDCW fans! I’m a billionaire! I want your wrestling promotion, and I’ll have it! You’ll be a part of my sports entertainment scam yet! Now turn off this camera or YOU’RE FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRED!!!
The camera cuts out.
Madman: What the Hell was that?
Monroe: I don’t know, Marcum. But I think we’re about to be invaded.
Madman: Not by…?
Monroe: Yes. By the Worst Wrestling Ever!
