'Money for Nothing' plays, and Charlie once again makes his way ou to the ring to the boos of the fans. He's clearly feeling the effects of his match last week, and is walking with a cane
Monroe: Charlie's definitely feeling the after-effects of Stairway to Hell!
Marcum: It's a dishrace! Charlie was screwed out of that title shot!
By this point Charlie is in the ring, but his attempts to speak are downed out by the fans' rapid booing
Charlie: Shut up and listen, you pencil-neck geeks, the big man's talking!
The fans booing finally subsides
Charlie: First thing's first: my match this week. Ghost Hog, I'm, frankly astonished that you can even spell hate, let alone understand the concept. Especially since you appear to have failed basic geography. This may have escaped your attention, but I'm from England, not Canada or the United Fages of America.
The crowd is clearly furious with Charlie and lets him know it as he smirks
Charlie: Well, come on! I mean, what with Killconey and Chewy Walrus single-handedly keeping the makes of KY Jelly in business, is it any wonder that this god-dman country is so fucking gay?
Anyway, Gay Hog, tonight, I'm gonna beat your ass, and not the way you like it. Tonight, you're walking the Pitbull Line, and that's never fun.
Marcum: Boy, is Ghost Hog in trouble!
Charlie: Now, onto some more important details. Last week, I was within inches of grabbing that contract for the title shot at Scammiversary, but know what? I got screwed by those two-bit ham-and-eggers The West Side Rollers. And you knopw what? It was a good thing. You know why? It taught me something.
There are bad men out there. Men who defy gentlemen's agreements and are only interested in personal gain.
Monroe: Some would say Charlie fits rather neatly into that category!
Marcum: Would you shut up?
Charlie: So, I went away, and I thought about it, and I realised what I needed. I needed somebody who could keep an eye on all of my interests, like back when I was being managed by the great Louie Bastardo. Sadly, Louie told me he was in retirement, but he offered me the personal services of someone who was a big help to him. So, back in the RDCW after a long and undesreved absence, Grace!
Grace appears on the ramp. She's dressed in a tight shirt and a miniskirt that shows off a scandlous amount of leg. She comes down to join Charlie in the ring, who openly ogles her
Charlie: Ain't she great?
Now, much as Grace is a girl of great brain- and even greater assets, if ya know what I mean- she ain't packing the kind of muscle I need to make sure my interests are protected. She'll be acting as my ringside advisor, but I need bodyguards. And I figured, what I need for a job like that, is a pair odf Bastards. English Bastards, in fact. So, here to act as my official bodyguards in the RDCW, The English Bastards!
Judas Priest's 'Breaking The Law' plays as The English Bastards make their way out. They're both huge, hulking men, well over 6 foot and built like the proverbial Brick Toilets.
Charlie: as you can see, these are not the kinda guys you wanna fuck with. So, let this serve as a warning to everyone of you back there in the locker-room: Fuck with me in any way, and these boys will put in the fuckin' hospital. No warnings, no second chances, no nothing. Notice has been served. Sammitch, you're top of my list. Ghost Hog, you're in my way. West Side Rollers, consider yourselves under sentence of death. The Pitbull is on the prowl, and there is gonna be a lot of trouble.
'Money for Nothing' plays, and Charlie and his posse head backstage, as we go to commercial.
