(Opening Credits)
 

Kurt Angle is out and he looks angry. Maybe somebody stole his mouthguard.

Kurt Angle: I can’t believe somebody stole my mouthguard! Hey, what the hell are you doing out here?

Bischoff: Declaring myself WW champion.

Angle: Don’t you mean WWE?

Bischoff: No. Get the E out, ok?

Angle: Hey! That’s my belt! Gimmie that!

Bischoff: No chance in hell! Uh-oh.

Speaking of, here’s Vince McMahon. What ever the hell could he be out here to address?

Vince McMahon: The first thing I’d like to remind everybody is that coming up in two weeks, RAW is moving! That’s right, we’re going to pack our bags and get the hell off this godforsaken network onto another godforsaken network where we can trade CSI reruns for Nash Bridges and dog shows! That’s right we’re going back to…well…I can’t say the name of the network but it rhymes with “You! Esse!” Come on, people you know the channel. We used to be on there all the time. Hacksaw Jim Duggan got you to chant about it….

Angle: RAW is moving to the Style Network?!

Bischoff: No, stupid. He’s talking about our big move to TBS, home of WCW Thunder!

Vince: Shut up. Listen to the list of Superstars returning for this Homecoming! Stone Man Still Austinberg! Hulk Hogan! Cactus Jack! Bastian Booger! Mantaur! Zach Gowen! Triple H! SpikeTV Dudley! “Hacksaw” Jim Duggan, Maven, Mordecai, Kevin Kelly, Nibblins, Todd Petingill, Pete Rose, Ben Stiller, Mae Young’s Hand Baby, and Chuck Norris! Be sure to be there on…that network…not here watching those idiots rolling around and pretending to punch each other to see all these returning greats. It’s sure to be a WDE RAW to remember!

Angle: Don’t you mean WW-

Vince: No! I’m changing it again. Now, shut up! You’re going to ruin Hunter and Stephanie’s Homecoming dance with an attitude like that, mister. Now, about that belt. There’s no way Eric Bischoff can be WDE champion.

Bischoff: I’m not. I’m WW champion.

Vince: That doesn’t make any sense.

Angle: You’re telling me.

Vince: How about this instead? John Cena is the WDE Heavyweight Champion and in two weeks at WDE Hardcore Homecoming-

Shane Douglas: Hey!

Vince: You should have trademarked it, dummy. Anywho, at WWE Hardcore Homecoming, John Cena will defend the WDE Title against the number one contender…Eric Bischoff!

Bischoff: What the hell are you talking about? That’s not even a good idea!

Vince: HAHAHAHAHAHA! I still love humiliating you. Anything can happen in the WDE!

Bischoff: WW!

Angle: You guys can’t even say WWE right.

Vince and Eric: Shut up!

Vince tromps off before raising his arms in victory, having stolen the WW Title while nobody was looking. Bischoff seethes.

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Near McMahon’s limo, a discussion is undertaken….

Voice of the Undertaker: Bischoff? Really? I mean…Bischoff?!

Vince McMahon: Would you like I should give the shot to Chris Masters?

Voice of Taker: No. Good point. What about Angle? Edge?

Vince: You’re just beggin’ to job to Orton again, aren’t you?

Voice of Taker: You’re so damn lucky you’re the Higher Power.

Vince: And you’re lucky I’m not drunker and don’t have more of a hardon for humiliating people right now.

Ric Flair: WOO! I’ve got the Viagra!

Eric Bischoff: Hey, at the rate we’re booking, I’m just as likely to win the title as I am lose the match!

Vince: That’s the spirit!

Torrie’s wrestling this match! HA! Wookles is the spawn of Fifi The RAW Satire Poodle and a couple Micro Machines, I think. Boobsie, in case you haven’t heard, is going to be appearing in Playboy, thereby marking the beginning and end of her usefulness to the WWE. Actually, I lied. For whatever crazy reason, “bitchy, coked up heel stable” is a fantastic idea. Way better than PMS too. Wait…is this a women’s title match? Yeah, yeah. I know. It doesn’t matter. Trish wins after Torrie blows a Shooting Star Press, and Trish rolls her up. After the match, Victoria and Boobsie beat up Ashley and Trish because they’re crazy, coked up bitches.

Triple H? Coming back. He was gone? Wait…Am I invited to RAW on USA? I don’t know the protocol for this. Will I be stuck doing UFC Satires? Egh. I hope not.

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Hurricane of course, suffered a concussion during last night’s show while hitting his head on a wall after he found out that he was jobbing again. I have pretty much the same reaction every time you guys wrestle, too. Cade is carrying his newly won tag team title, and also the NWA title he won at bWo show last week in Canada. The bWo finally beat Raven. Hurricane tries really hard, but he’s no match for a fully loaded Murdoch, and he gets nailed with a Curtain Call for the pin. After the match a fully loaded Murdoch shows off his splotch. Ew.

Somehow, Byte This has scored Eric Bischoff! What…corporate synergy?

Todd Grisham is backstage with Carlito.

Todd Grisham: You know Ric Flair isn’t really your dad, don’t you?

Carlito Flair: Sure he is. And I was happy to hand my Intercontinental Title over to him, because helping your old man in his time of need? Das Cool!

Todd Grisham: The DNA test results came back negative. Ric Flair is no more your father than I am happy with my existence.

Carlito: And you’re happy with your existence, right?! Right?!

Grisham jumps off a nearby cliff. Todd Grisham has fallen.

Carlito: That no good, lying sack of crap!

Mick Foley? Coming back. Look, either buy his book or he’s going to keep doing this.

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Edge is backstage in the Bischoffice.

Edge: Can a girl get a salad here? I’m friggin’ tired of fighting Matt Hardy every week. He finally beat me. Can this be over now? Please? Look! I still have this briefcase! I can do other things now, right? Feud with…uh…Coach? Just no more Kane. I’m beggin’ you. This wrestler does not need any more Kane.

Eric Bischoff: Where the hell is Lita?

Edge: Selling the Twist of Fate.

Bischoff: That’s lame. Nobody sells finishers!

Edge: She’s a girl!

Bischoff: She’s more man than he is!

Edge: You don’t know the half of it, brother.

Bischoff: Leave me alone. I’ve got some major drinking to do.

Edge: What about me and Matt Hardy?

Bischoff: Fine. Next week, you and Matt will fight in a ladder match, where the loser has to go to Smackdown, waste away, and finally get jobbed out to JBL and Ken Kennedy every week. And the winner? Gets to stay here waste away and job to Rob Conway and Chris Masters every week. It’s win/win really.

Edge: But…I said I didn’t want any more matches with Matt.

Bischoff: Sucks to be you, then.

Man, I guess he couldn’t wait to get back to the WWE, huh? Jobbing to Jeff Jarrett will do that to you. The Goatee hardly breaks a sweat as Tomko pump kicks Raven all the way back down to TNA. Oh well, maybe next year. Is this really the answer to RAW’s problems? Tyson Tomko jobber matches? When one jobber beats another jobber does anyone hear it? Then again, Tomko is “the Problem Solver.” Anybody got some algebra homework or something they need done? What’s the square root of “w”. I’m just kidding. Tomko only does the jumbles.

Coming to RAW? Hulk Hogan. For what? To see how Shawn’s big heel turn is working out? Because, I hate to break it to him but….

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Carlito Carribean Flair (?) v. Ric Flair
For the WWE Intercontinental Title

Carlito asks if what Todd Grisham said was true, and Flair begs off. Carlito goes in to give his fake dad a hug, but Flair pokes him in the eye. Flair locks in the chinlock and the crowd is screaming for Carlito to tap out. Guys, this isn’t Randy Orton in there, ok? Settle down. Geez. You’d think some people never watched wrestling before. Flair comes off the top with the “Kane Memorial Flying, Then Landing, Then Clothsline.” That’s the second time Flair’s hit that move in 20 years! Put him in the cruiserweight division. Screw you, Paul London! You want to do stupid flips? Join the circus, you pansy.

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Do they even do flips at the circus anymore? Last time I went to one of those it was, like a tightrope and then some elephants or something. Maybe a liger? Jyushin “Thunder” Lyger? Ric Flair should sing his own entrance theme. Kind of like they did with the WWE The Music a few years ago and at the Emmys this year. He can just make up the words as he goes too. I swear, it’ll make his entrance more dynamic. Flair spits an apple all over Carlito’s hair. I think I saw a porn site like that once. Uh…I mean…Didn’t. Don’t? I don’t think I saw a porn site about Carlito’s hair. Incidentally, you can see rap star Sean “Diddy” Combs in the new direct to video movie Carlito’s Hair. Hurry up and catch it before he changes his name back to Did-Pac and no shows a B.I.G. memorial show. Flair grabs the ropes after locking in the Figure Four for the win. Carlito loses again! That’s two matches in two nights! Back to the Cabana for the month with you!

Matt Hardy is standing by a cliff….

Matt Hardy: Todd? Todd are you there? I’m supposed to be interviewed! Man, this sucks, I’m never going to get my Angelic Diablo character over if Todd Grisham doesn’t interview me. It’s like the scar represents my not getting over. Sigh. I’m going to lose this ladder match and get shipped to Smackdown where I won’t even have Shannon Moore to hang out with.

Shawn Michaels: Don’t give up hope, kid. I too once was in a position where I thought I was never going to get REALLY over. I pranced and I pranced, and I put on good shows and all that stuff, but it felt like my career, and indeed my life were on a one way path to nowhereville. But then something entered my life that made everything all better.

Hardy: Jesus? Cocaine? Whyspyr?

HBK: Nope. Mirror chaps. And I haven’t not been over since. You can’t have any though. This is my gimmick.

Big Show: Did I hear somebody say “Pointless 8-Man Tag Mach”?

HBK: No….

Show: Because I’m totally all over that. Man, jobber squashes are fun and all, but we’ve already got Tomko to do that. What I need to do is start working some more pointless main-event tag matches, and really, this is the perfect opportunity. Who are our opponents?

Hardy: Uh…Angle, Masters, Abe Orton, and Edge.

Show: Ah, geez. What, was Conway busy or something?

HBK: Apparently.

Show: Who’s our other partner?

HBK: You should know better than to ask that!

John Cena: YO! Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo! YO!

Show: Sorry.

Cena: YO!

HBK: Think before you speak!

Cena: YO! THE CHAMP IS HERE!

HBK: Sigh. We know, we know.

Cena: Who wants to play a hardcore game of wiffleball with the John Cena?

HBK: You can’t be friggin’ serious. Are we that hard up for merch?

Cena: What’s the matter? Real doesn’t recognize real, homey?

Hardy: I’ll play wiffleball with you, John.

Show: Maaaatt!

Hardy: What? I need friends.

Cena: Who else wants to be part of Team CHAINGANG?!

HBK: Yeah…I’d love to, John, really I would. But I threw my back out in a game of Hardcore Wiffleball a few years ago, and…I haven’t been the same since. Sorry. I’ll…be your mascot or something though. Catcher maybe? So I can sit and don’t have to move.

Show: Fine. I’ll play. Only this once.

Cena: Great! We can hit home runs with these balls painted to look like all our favorite Superstars. Look! We’ll use these Benoit balls.

Hardy: You mean you’re supposed to hit them?

Cena: Of course, dawg. Don’t be clownin’

Hardy: Woah…I’ve been using them in…like…the complete wrong way then.

HBK: Ouch. Let’s cut to commercial.

Voice of the Undertaker: Only I may break the fourth wall! Cut to commercial!

Steve Austin? At the WWE Homecoming. Maybe it’ll be like a potluck. Austin can bring the beer, Foley can bring big gulps, Conway and Gooker can toss some salads, Masters can cook. It’ll be a like a big family picnic! And there will be random brawling, just like at all of my family’s picnics!

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Maria Tennyson Lund is standing backstage with Ric Flair.

Maria Tennyson Lund: Maria Tennyson Lund here, and I’m standing backstage with Ric Flair. Ric, I have to ask you something. The boys down in the lab say that you’re not really Carlito’s father. How would you like to respond.

Ric Flair: How would I like to respond?! HOW WOULD I LIKE TO RESPOND?! WOO! I’m the Nature Boy! Stylin’ and profilin’! Limo Ridin’! Jet flyin’! Wheelin’ and a dealin,’ kiss stealin’ son of a gun, who’s about to take you for a ride on Space Mountain, fat girl! WOO!

Maria: I’m not fat!

Flair: I’m sorry, I thought you were Lillian, WOO By God, Garcia!

Maria: I agree. Studies show that if you’re going to wear half a shirt, you should probably do some sit-ups to tighten up your abs.

Carlito: Not being my father AND making fun of Lillian? Das not cool!

Flair and Maria hold off Carlito’s initial attack, but when Chris Masters arrives and hits them both with a frozen halibut, it’s all over for Flair and Maria. Next week: Ric Flair and Maria Tennyson Lund v. Carlito Cool (nee Flair) and Chris Masters in a Frozen Halibut Battle! Who will reign supreme?!

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Smackdown Rebound!

Randy Orton: Truly, the context of this gasket will shower you with the ways that Ranky Morgan has bettered you in the punch!

The Undertaker: Did you make an Undertaker Real Doll?

Randy: The realest!

Taker: That’s sick.

Randy: Did you hear that, father of my loins? Takerster cannot stand to looken upons our creation and gasp at the glory that we have unrevealed!

Cowboy Bob Orton: You knows it!

Taker: That’s it! I’m going to beat you up anyway.

Randy: Oh know! He’s starting what he finished!

Cowboy Bob: Be brave!

Tombstone. 1...2...3.

Kurt Angle, Abe Orton, Edge, Chris Masters and Some Geese v. Shawn Michaels, The Big Show, Matt Hardy, John Cena and Some Ducks
In the Great Wiffleball Battle

The geese and the ducks share some pre-game quackery as we throw it to these….

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Orton is using his weird beard to bat, which doesn’t seem like it’s going to work very well for him. Big Show is playing outfield with a couple ducks, but he eats them, so now he’s going to have to go it alone. Thankfully, I don’t think anybody can hit a wiffleball from the ring to the Titan Tron. Not even WWE Hall of Famer Pete Rose. Edge hits a line drive single but gets called out for spearing the first base duck. That’s interference! I will give him this, John Cena is a hell of a pitcher. You can’t see his pitches! Time to switch sides!

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Shawn Michaels Superkicks the ball to the entry ramp, over Abe’s head. Masters has a break on it, but he slips and falls on his ass. Michaels is safe. After Angle strikes out a couple ducks, it’s Matt Hardy’s turn at the plate. Uh-Oh. Matt may never die, but he hits like a girl. Angle’s pitch is a little high and outside, but suddenly, Big Show picks Matt Hardy up and swings him, bashing the ball clear into the upper deck! Home run! Two runs score and it’s two to nothing in the bottom of the first. Unfortuately, during his at bat Big Show eats one of the Benoit balls. Ew, dude, you don’t know where that’s been! I guess they’re going to have to switch out to Vince McMahon’s Grapefruit Sized Wiffleballs. Man, those are for Women’s leagues. Sigh. Cena tries the ol’ Five Knuckle Shuffle Bunt, but Edge throws him out at first. Can the good guys keep the lead?

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Unfortunately, Chris Masters was ruled ineligible during the last break for using a corked spatula, so now the heels are going to have to go to the bench to replace him. One goose strikes out. Angle strikes out as well, possibly due to the limited range of motion and lack of a sweet spot for swinging gold medals. It’s down to the final at bat for the heels, and they go to their bench. It’s Sid! He’s brought his squeegee and he’s ready to break some records. With Edge on and two men out, it’s up to Sid to take on John Cena. The first pitch sails foul. Sid swings through the second pitch by just a few inches. The crowd holds its breath, the ducks stop quacking. The geese boil quietly in Master’s soup pot. Cena’s third pitch comes sailing in. CRACK! The ball hits the pleather of Michael’s mirror glove. The mighty Sid has struck out! QUACK! The ducks quack. The winning faces pile up in the middle of the ring while the crowd cheers. Michaels is carried off by Show in victory while Cena, Matt and the Ducks stay behind to sign autographs and peck the ground for loose popcorn. What a match!

Next Week: Things get serious as Team CHAINGANG takes on a tough Russian Team in the semi-finals. Plus, Ric Flair stars in a buddy action comedy with the I.C. Title. And, with only one week to go before the big move, who will steal the SpikeTV sign on the way out?! Find out then! Or now if you have a time machine. Or…are reading this some time other than the week of September 18-24. In 2005. If not, welcome people of the future! How much is gas?

Excerpt from the Casefiles of Dean Malenko
Chapter Six

I found them in a bar. The people around town said they were the last ones seen with Kane, so if anybody knew where they were, it’d be these two. The one was big and stocky, with long white hair and white eyebrows and he was wearing armor and a cloak. He looked for all the world like the worlds stupidest Renaissance Festival worker. The other one looked like a southern accountant with too much time on his hands, or a Baptist Minister/Serial Killer with not enough time on his hands. His face was a big cherry pie with glasses, and a suit that looked like a clown threw up and then got crapped on by an 8 story penguin. He did not look good. I strolled over and slapped my hands down on their table. I wanted answers.

“Oh, god, Jim! It’s Malenko! He’s come to kill us!”

“God, LIVE THE GIMMICK, kid! Toughen up or else you get the heel!”

“Not the heel! No! Oh, boss, I’m sorry! Please don’t hit me again!”

I began wondering where Moe was, because Larry and Curly here were long on comedy but short on information. I didn’t doubt the big lug could’ve killed Jeff in cold blood, but information has led me to believe that Jeff’s killer would have to have been crafty, sneaky, be able to be the shadow of discontent surrounding the OMEGA volcano and burst out like a winged dragon destroying all in its path. This one, he wasn’t like that at all. You could smell the jitteriness for miles.

“I’m not here to hurt you, but I will if you don’t give me the answers I’m looking for.”

“What is it you want to know?” the mealy accountant squirmed.

“Kane. Where is he? I need to find him.”

“He’s not even with Lita anymore you know that?”

How did everyone seem to know about my lady love? She whose jaw points my soul to the heaven I so righteously desire, who is the only bright spot in this town filled with vile ogres and malcontents? I wanted to punch the bastard but I kept my cool. Kane was the big red mark. Not this maroon.

“Just tell me where he is. My business with the lady is mine.”

“He’s at the library! He’s gone mad, mad I tell you! He’s trying to get his autobiography put on the library shelves, but they won’t take them! He’s planning to set fire to all the books next week!”

The pieface immediately whipped out his sidearm and began bashing the albino in the face with it. The armored albino cried as pie face railed on him about maintaining kayfabe and the dignity of the business. A tennis racket, pounding into his skull, more loaded than a a depressed girl with the keys to her parent’s liquor cabinet after she didn’t get invited to prom. More loaded than me. I needed a drink.

I reached across the table and neatly broke the accountant’s arm. Taking his wallet, I bought myself a beer and downed it, letting the alcohol swim though my system, compelling me to undertake this task for a few more weeks. I tossed the wallet to the medieval albino.

“Thanks for the info, kid. Go get yourself a dye job and some new friends.”

I didn’t wait to hear his response. I had a book burning to catch.

To be Continued….