SuperShow III: Saxoteur vs. Grizzly Bob & The Beard - Non Title

[Kermit]

SuperShow III

In what is sure to be a very manly match, Saxoteur will return to tag action after a near-retirement from Saxton. However, the evil implications from Rush and Smith convinced Saxton to give it one more go. Saxton and Saboteur will warm up once more for their final bout as a team at Kingdom Come V. Meanwhile, in the other corner. Two manly men find themselves in a very interesting relationship. Both men want to lay claim to being the most manly man, but with how their match ended last round, one has to wonder how it will all be decided.

Deadline is Wednesday July 10, 2013 @ 11:59 P.M. (Central). Soft Extensions Only​

 

[Theo Mays]

Have you seen Beardette? Have you seen Beardette? Have you seen Beardette?

We see The Beard running around frantically backstage looking for his sister, who just interrupted his scheduled match at Aftershock against Grizzly Bob. Beard pauses backstage as he rubs his hand through his sweaty mane before sliding down the wall and holding his face between his hands.

You crying mate?

Beard looks up, with tears in his eyes and sees his opponent from earlier tonight, Grizzly Bob standing above him. Bob puts a hand out and helps Beard up from the ground. Concerned Grizzly, checks on Beard’s condition.

You alright man? Is it Beardette?

Yeah. First she gets kidnapped by those carny guys and now she makes a run in during our match. I’m so confused.

Beard and Bob’s conversation is interrupted by a backstage worker who happened to be eavesdropping.

You looking for that bearded chick with the great rack? She just got escorted out by our security team. Speaking of which, since when has our security started dressing like clowns?

Beard has heard enough as he knocks out the backstage employee for making a move on his sister and makes his way out the arena. Bob looks on confused before shouting out in excitement.

Down goes Frazier! Down goes Frazier!

Bob quickly follows Beard and stops him in his tracks. Beard is furious as the rage nearly turns his beard into a flaming red blaze.

Let me help. You can’t do this alone.

Beard is trying to calm down before he reaches his hand out and Grizzly Bob accepts the offer.

It looks like we have ourselves a little vacation to the carnival. Pack your bags.

Dear Journal,

“Rivalry has no place in any life; Chivalry is good especially in strife.”

-Dr. John Celes

It seems my “rival” has become my partner. You know how they say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer? I guess that applies here. I did just learn that at Supershow III, prior to our one on one match at Kingdom Come weekend Bob and I will be teaming against Saxton and Saboteur. I’ve had success against the champs before so it isn’t as big of a mismatch as many may think. This mini vacation will be a nice way to get to know my partner and more importantly my opponent. No matter what there is a mutual respect and our top priority is saving Beardette from the Kidnapping Carnies.

We see Beard standing outside a rusted carnival entry sign as he paces around looking at his watch, worried. Suddenly a loud noise is heard in the distance, followed by a cloud of black smoke. Pulling up is a rusted old pickup truck and in the driver’s seat is none other than Grizzly Bob. Bob hops out and sees Beard, who greets him in his brand new Fear The Beard shirt. Beard’s reaction however seems unwelcoming.

What did you do to my shirt?

I wanted a kickass shirt like yours so I crossed off the d. Fear the Bear. You like?

Do I like? No I don’t like. You tampered with my merchandise that’s only available at WZCWshop.com.

Come on, it’s kind of cool. Admit it.

Beard ponders before shrugging his shoulders and nodding with a chuckle before embracing his frienemy.

This is where my inside source tells me that they are keeping Beardette.

Who’s your inside source? Dustin Hunter?

Both men examine the scene of their upcoming mission before breaking down in laughter at Bob’s joke.

Seriously though, who is your inside source?

His name is Dirk Sheet. He knows all things wrestling.

The two men enter the eerie carnival and begin wondering around. This carnival is filled with weirdness as signs advertise “The Crocodile Man”, “The 62 and half legged dog”, “The Belly Dancing Monk”, and “The Lord of the Sheeple”. Beard and Bob look on confused as the strange people glance at them with glaring looks. There doesn’t seem to be a normal soul around, that is until the two men see a familiar face at the test of strength.

I SHALL NOT BE DEFEATED!!!!

The familiar face is none other than Krypto. The little green man fits right in as he is littered with thousands of carnival prizes ranging from stuffed animals to goldfish to light up swords. Krypto seemingly has run the place dry as he raises his fists in the air and lets out a maniacal laugh.

To think that may be the most normal thing we see today.

Welcome to my life.

The two men come to quick halt as above them, a sign reading “Come one, come all. Seeing the most beautiful and unique creature in the land. Come and see The Bearded Lady!” Under the words is a poorly painted portrait of Beardette.

This is it.

Following his astute observation Beard kicks in the door as bats and dust come storming out. The two men have a slight hesitation before entering the damp and dark corridor. The two men are ducking down swatting at the cobwebs that hang around them. Odd noises consisting of loud squawks, howling laughter, and womanly screams fill the room. Beard and Bob show a bit of fear as they continue on their quest. Finally they reach a glass panel with a dim light and a wooden chair. Above the panel reads “The Bearded Lady”. Beard hammers on the glass, trying to shatter it, but to no avail. He continues to hammer until Grizzly Bob offers his assistance.

I got this.

Grizzly pulls a flannel from out his back pocket and wraps it from his elbow down to his palm. WZCW’s favorite woodsman winds back and throws out a thunderous blow, shattering the glass. Beard looks on impressed as Bob shakes his arm and his flannel of glass shards before addressing Beard.

It’s all in the power of the flannel my man.

The two enter into the display case and open up a small door in the bottom right corner of the wall. The two men, obviously too big to walk through are forced to their hands and knees as they crawl through the secret tunnel. The two men steadily make their way through the tunnel as Grizzly Bob begins to sniff around and is clearly put off by whatever his nose is picking up.

Did you let one rip?

Sorry I’m not good in tight situations.

Bob rolls his eyes as the two reach the end of the tunnel. There is no exit, only a small crack in the panel. Beard peeks through and sees Beardette tied to a chair with a handful of clowns at a circular table playing some carny hybrid game of Jenga, Rummy, and Russian Roulette.

What are we going to do Beard?

It’s my turn.

Beard signals to Grizzly to back up as he gets a crawling start and rams into the panel, beard first. The panel smashes open, startling Beardette and the carnies. Beard and Grizzly Bob bursts through and dust off as they get to their feet.

Geazet theazem!!

The carnies charge at Beard and Bob and the ass kicking begins. Beard nails one of the kidnappers with a headbutt, shattering the carny’s nose. Meanwhile Bob lifts his victim and rams him into a beam and starts firing away lefts and rights to the sternum before being smashed in the back by a wooden stool. Beard is there for the save as Bob falls to his knees as Beard nails a vicious elbow, knocking the carny to the ground.

Beard! Heads up!

With the warning from Bob, Beard manages to grab the attacker and throw him into a column prop straight out of ancient Greece. Bob swings around and begins using Beard’s beard as a garrote. The carny gasps for air as the beard’s strands choke the man out. The victim passes out and slides down the column as Bob and Beard are both impressed.

Two more men come from a back room as the four begin a fist fight.

BOOM!

POW!

BLAMO!

KERPLUNK!

Beard and Bob prevail, rather easily as they admire the carnage around them. Only one man remains, the leader. He has Beardette over his shoulders and he tries to escape. Bob grabs hold of The Beard’s beard again and ties to his flannel and makes a homemade lasso and drags down the leader and pulls him to meet his makers. The man pleas for forgiveness as Bob ushers Beard in to take this one for himself. Beard takes one look at the leader before placing his foot over his throat. The man gasps for air as Beard’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. Beard takes a deep breath and kneels down, replacing his foot with his knee and whispers into the man’s ear.

I don’t want to come back here again. You see this vengeance of fury that I am capable of. You leave my sister out of your freak show and you won’t have to worry about me no more. But you dare step foot into my home and dare lay a finger on her, my wife, or my friends and you will have to worry about me for a long, long time. You will walk the streets with that depressing and paranoid feeling in the back of your mind. A feeling of fear, a fear of the beard.

Beard releases his grasp off the man’s neck before kicking him in the face, knocking him out cold. Beard and Bob shift their focus to Beardette, who is still tied up and gagged. She begins rambling and is less coherent than usual.

Theazankyeazouseazomeazuch. Ideazon’tkneazowwheazatIweazoulddeazoweazithoutyeazou.FeazirsttheazeyheazurtyeazouandIesceazapefreazomtheazemandtheazeyfeazoundmeaze.Iheazavebeazeenseazoweazorried.

She continues telling this tale speaking in jibberish at this point. Beard and Bob look on dumbfounded, before addressing Beardette in sync.

Wheazat?

The three share a laugh as Beard drapes his arm over his sister and the three of them make their way out, back into the real world. Beard reaches his hand out and Bob shakes it out of respect and friendship and as they go for the release they pull each other in.

We’re gonna be a pretty good team, ain’t we?

I reckon you’re right, but that doesn’t mean-

Exactly. We will still tear each other apart when we get the chance.

But for now we focus on tearing apart the tag team champs. You got the two manliness men in all of WZCW and in pure size and strength we can’t be topped.

Amen brother.

Grizzly has one more surprise as he whips a bottle of wine from out his truck and a bottle of beer. He throws Beard the wine and cracks open the beer and holds it to the air.

To the supershow.

To Kingdom Come.

To kicking some ass and then kicking each other’s.

The two clank bottles before giving each other a head nod and going their separate ways. Beard with Beardette, finally safe from the Carny life and Grizzly Bob back to his life in the wilderness. Two matches made in heaven.

Dear Journal,

“Do you understand my dreams? Sometimes you say you do, And sometimes you say you don't. Either way it doesn't matter. I continue to dream.”

-Langston Hughes

My life is crazy, my life isn’t normal. Do I wish it was different? Sure. Am I going to cry if it stays crazy? Probably not. The ass kicking adventure of Grizzly Beard was the most fun I’ve had in ages. It felt like a combination of my relations with Talent and Gent. It was a happy median. And now everything is settled. Beardette is safe at home where she belongs and Emily is mere months away from delivery. Life is good and while the Supershow is right around the corner, I can’t help but believe Kingdom Come will be the beginning of something good.

 

[Dirk]

After taking in the happy scene with the Beard, his wife and his incredibly hot-from-the-neck-down sister, Grizzly Bob starts the engine. With the sun in his eyes and one hand on the wheel, Grizzly messes with the radio.

Well, I make the pussy purr with the stroke of my hand – they know they’re gettin’ it from me!

Grizzly: Good ole’ Ted Nugent...

With a sly grin and a hungry look in his eyes, he adjusts his rear-view mirror to take a last, lingering look at Beardette – her dress, her hair and her bristles blowing gently in the warm breeze. He winds down the window, rests his arm on the door and floors the accelerator. Relieved, relaxed and with a mild case of the Cat Scratch Fever, he drives the pick-up home.

*****

Grizzly opens his creaky cabin door and tip-toes in. He keeps the lights off and carefully closes the door behind him. His back is hunched over and he pivots his ankles to soften the impact of his immense weight. Being familiar with his home, he manages to make it to his kitchen... or at least the cluttered part of his house that he calls a kitchen. He feels his way around the mess until his finger finds the kettle’s grooved switch. Grizzly breathes a sigh of relief as the first phase of his mission is accomplished.

The next step proves too difficult a challenge. After unscrewing half a dozen of the plastic containers that he had bought in bulk, he tastes the salt, the sugar and the washing powder in search of the instant coffee. After having enough, he mutters quietly to himself.

Grizzly: All this for a cuppa joe...

From his back pocket he retrieves a cheap, black, plastic lighter. He flicks the wrong end of it and lets it slip to the floor. After biting his bottom lip and growling a few unsavoury phrases, he sits on his haunches and starts to look for his lost property. His hands pat the oak floor and they finally find the lighter. Rolling his thumb across the little metal roller, the flint creates a spark that the gas fuels into flame. Grizzly lets out a yelp and falls flat on his round buttocks as his gaze is met by two large eyes.

Grizzly: Digger! Why’d you sneak up on Daddy like that?

Grizzly switches on the light and kneels beside the Rottweiler, who seems rather pleased with himself. Grizzly pets him behind the ear and clears his throat, momentarily speaking in an extra low baritone to compensate for his brief shriek.

Grizzly: This is the thanks I get for not tryin’ to wake you up? You silly sum’bitch... gimme five!

Grizzly holds out his hand and Digger stomps it with his large paw.

Grizzly: That’s better!

Grizzly beams as Digger’s soft brown eyes look into his own. He gets up to make that evasive cup of coffee. Triumphantly, he lifts up the transparent coffee container.

Grizzly: Gotcha, ya li’l bastard!

He scoops the granules into his mug, along with the water, as well as a spoonful of bourbon.

Grizzly: Don’t you judge me, boy, it’s been a long day...

He sits down on one of his wooden bar stools and stirs his nightcap with his middle finger.

Grizzly: Some carnies kidnapped this bearded lady, who turns out to be The Beard’s sister...

Digger looks up at Grizzly, whose enthusiasm for his own story cannot be tempered.

Grizzly: I KNOW, right? Go figure! Anyhows, you know what we did? We sure went an’ got here back!

Sensing that he might as well make himself comfortable, Digger slumps against Grizzly’s chair.

Grizzly: Yeah, it was a good ole’ fight. Don’t let the long hair or the poetry fool you, Uncle Beard can bust skulls with the best of ‘em. We really had each other’s backs, too! There must’ve been at least seven or eight of ‘em, only two of us, but it was great! Jabs and hooks everywhere! We even used something we like to call a “Bearded Garrotte”! Choked the living shit out of one guy, we did...

Digger looked up at Grizzly upon hearing this new, unfamiliar word.

Grizzly: I meant to say “the living breath”. Now where was I? Oh yeah, you should’ve seen the look in his eyes. I can’t imagine what it must be like, having somebody kidnap a relative... That’s why YOU have to stay right here when WZCW has a show. If anything were to happen to you, I’d lose my... breath... completely! But Uncle Beard’s on a roll now, the way he took it to the leader of those carnies... Ha! Poor feller was scared ...breathless!

Digger tucks his head under his front paws.

Grizzly: Don’t gimme that. Besides, sleepy head, it’s way past your bedtime!

Grizzly picks up Digger and cradles him to his chest, carrying him towards the bedroom. Gently, he places his companion at the end of the bed, before coming to rest in it himself. A few moments pass, but soon both man and dog are snoring loudly.

*****

Grizzly: GET UP, bub!

???: Excuse me?

Grizzly: C’mon, my man, you gotta get up from that bench and we gotta do this one thing.

The Beard and Grizzly are in their locker, preparing for their match against the reigning tag-team champions. While The Beard is already in his ring-gear, Bob is donning the flannel shirt and beanie that he tosses into the audience during his entrance.

Beard: Those must cost you a fortune.

Grizzly: Nah, Blade got Kensworth to sponsor ‘em.

Beard: About this ritual... I doubt if slapping my partner would be conducive to enhanced teamwork...

Grizzly grabs his partner by the beard and points to his own cheek.

Grizzly: We did this kinda thing at the loggin’ camp all the time to get riled up.

Grizzly puts his hand on the Beard’s shoulder.

Grizzly: Trust me.

The Beard gets up and smacks Grizzly across the face. Even though his cheek bears the pink imprint of a hand, Grizzly grins at his partner.

Grizzly: That all you got, tough guy? Well, I’d better pack up my things just now... If that’s the piss-poor excuse of a slap is all you got in you, it’s no use taking on Saxoteur. I mean, what’d be the point? It would be a damned shame if Claudia were to get kidnapped AGAIN because of those dainty mitts you call han-!

[size=+2]SMACK! [/size]

Grizzly: Better!

Grizzly returns the favour with a slap of his own.

[size=+2]BOFF! [/size]

Grizzly: YOU FEELIN’ IT YET?

[size=+2]WHACK! [/size]

Beard: OH, I’M FEELING IT!

[size=+2]DOINNNG! [/size]

Grizzly: FEAR THE BEARD!

[size=+2]ZING! [/size]

Beard: BEWARE THE BEAR!

[size=+2]KRAKK! [/size]

Grizzly: FEAR THE BEARD!

[size=+2]BASH![/size]

Beard: BEWARE THE BEAR!

They stop, their flushed cheeks stinging as they look each other in the eye. They nod, each man taking a few steps backwards.

Both: SUPER SANDWICH SPLASH!!!

They sprint and hit each other with a crossbody. For a few glorious moments they sail through the air, before colliding and bouncing off each other. The Beard has a faster running speed, but Grizzly is heavier, making them hit each other with roughly the same force. Neither man gains an inch in the collision and with surprising grace they land on their feet. Grizzly has a crazy grin, bearing his teeth, but The Beard’s smile is one of quiet confidence.

???: Excuse me, gentlemen, would you mind if I cut in?

Becky Serra pokes her head around the locker door. Clothed in a grey suit, she steps tentatively into the locker, followed by her anonymous crew.

Becky: I couldn’t help but notice the noise, how are the new partners feeling?

Grizzly turns around to face her, his face still looking a little wild.

Grizzly: IN-GRRRRRR-EDIBLE!

Beard pulls Grizzly next to him and drapes his arm over his shoulder.

Beard: What my partner meant to say is that we’re ready for this, Becky!

Becky: It won’t be easy facing the reigning tag-team champions...

Beard: It won’t be, Becky...

Grizzly: ...but it won’t be easy facin’ us, either!

Beard: That’s right! We’re two guys cut from the same cloth.

Grizzly: They’ve been together for long...

Beard: ...but we’ve been separated at birth.

Grizzly: I see a hurricane comin’ ma’am... from far away... and it’s carrying the two toughest guys on the roster!

Beard: You can’t stop a force this strong!

Grizzly: You CAN’T!

Serra seems to enjoy this powerful showing of manliness, but ever the consummate professional, she pushes the interview along. The microphone almost gets lost under Beard’s impressive, bushy beard.

Becky: Now, Beard, your recent involvement with Saxoteur has seen you lose both the gold and your tag-partner, Gentleman Masque. While Saxoteur will have their fair share of the crowd, there has been a lot of fans chanting you on in your new journey and they’ll keep supporting you tonight against one of the most successful tag-teams in all on WZCW-history.

Beard: Yes, Becky, without the fans...

The Beard grabs hold of one of the cameras and speaks directly into it.

Beard: ...there’d be no WZCW and there’d be no wrestlers or shows either and I give my thanks to all the loyal bearded ones who’ll be supporting us here tonight.

After handing the camera back, he faces Becky once more.

Beard: I don’t have beef with Saboteur or Saxton personally. I admire them a lot, but I’m here to win and to give the fans a match they’ll never forget!

Becky: Thank you for those insights, Beard.

Becky turns her attention to Grizzly, who still hasn’t calmed down completely.

Becky: Grizzly, how does it feel to be partnered with one of the most prominent stars in the tag-team division, having never faced either Action Saxton or Saboteur before?

Grizzly: It’s an absolute honour, ma’am. This guy right here...

He drags The Beard closer.

Grizzly: ...is one of the most consistent performers and I’m lucky to be with him. So what, am I supposed to be shakin’ up my britches because of two guys who thought it wise to NOT fear the Beard AND to poke the Bear? I don’t think so! I got another ace in the hole as well.

Grizzly grabs hold of his teammate’s luscious beard.

Becky: I... I don’t understand...

Grizzly: You will, ma’am, you will...

The Beard gives her a wink and yanks on his beard, showing off its strength.

Grizzly: I also have to ask you to excuse the two of us. We got ourselves a warm-up to do.

As the WZCW-personnel leave the two mighty men alone, The Beard separates from Grizzly and raises his slapping-arm one last time before the match. With all their adrenaline and testosterone pumping, they whip each other into a frenzy:

Beard: Let’s try that move one more time, but in the hallway.

Grizzly: More of a runnin’ start... Got it.

The two mammoths barge out of the room and begin pacing in opposite directions. After the ten-count, Grizzly twirls around and takes a deep breath. He sees The Beard revolve around slowly. Pensively, The Beard strokes his most prominent facial feature and his muscles tighten. Grizzly, on the other hand, starts to stomp his foot on the ground, ready to charge.

Grizzly: We waitin’ for a tumble-weed or what?

The non-skid, stainless-steel floor of the building trembles as Bob and The Beard start their run-ups. As their wrestling boots punch dents in the hallway, vases fall off tables and framed portraits become dislodged. By now, one man’s beard is dragged over his shoulder by wind-resistance alone, while the other’s stomach is jostled by the power of his strides. For a few precious moments, the world grinds to halt, as if to allow uninterrupted passage to these two stampeding bison. Spoiling this beautiful moment, a tiny figure pops out of a door and into the hallway.

???: Well then, back to work...

The other Bob could not have picked a worse place (than the room across from the rugged twosome) for his coffee break. Already in mid-air, the wrestlers’ bulky bodies rotate in opposite directions, hitting the backstage worker with the 600lb-implosion of their double crossbody. Being the meat in this hairy sandwich, the WZCW-employee’s body gets crumpled completely. Aside from gaining an instant inch in height, he feels like his insides simply are about to pop out of his body. Time begrudgingly speeds up to normal, leaving The Beard to notice something about his teammate.

Beard: Partner, I think you have something on your shirt there...

 

[JGlass]

Bells are ringing at Saxton/Saboteur Tower, and Action Saxton intends to find out where they are coming from. He stomps down the halls of the building, looking for the source of the sound.

Action Saxton: Who the hell is ringing them damn bells? I need absolute silence when I’m perfecting my fro, and that dingin’ and dongin’ ain’t helpin’!

As Saxton rounds a corner he is met by his friend, tag team partner, and depending on who you ask, the namesake for Saxton/Saboteur tower: Saboteur.

Saboteur: Whoa buddy, calm down! Sorry to disrupt your afro picking, but there are more important things afoot! You see, those aren’t just regular bells… they’re wedding bells!

Saxton: Wedding bells?! Who the hell is getting married at Saxton Tower?

Saboteur: It’s Saboteur Tower, and I’m getting married!

Saxton: Oh no, did you kidnap Maureen McCormick again? How many times have I told you that you can’t marry Marsha Brady against her will?

Saboteur: Counting just now, twice, but that’s irrelevant, because Marsha isn’t the lucky lady that will be spending the rest of her life with me… it’s Chelsea!

Saxton: Chelsea? You mean that military grade Chinese sex doll you named after Sam Smith’s ex-fiance in an attempt to get under his skin?

Saboteur: No, I mean Chelsea, the military grade Chinese sex doll that is the love of my life. She has inspired me in ways I didn’t know I could be inspired, and I finally decided to take the plunge. Last night I asked her to marry me on the top of Saboteur Tower!

Saxton: Saxton Tower, but hold up… you proposed last night, and you’re getting married today? Now Action Saxton knows about a lot of things, and wedding planning happens to be one of them, and even legendary wedding planner Jennifer Lopez ain’t got what it takes to put a wedding together in less than 24 hours! You know nobodies going to show up to this shindig, right?

Saboteur: Oh yeah?

Saboteur walks over to a nearby window that overlooks the entranceway to Saxton/Saboteur Tower, and he waves Saxton over. The duo peers out the window down to the street and see that a humongous crowd of people have assembled for the occasion.

Saxton: What the… there must be a thousand people down there! Surely you must have spent all your time inviting people and not enough time planning the actual ceremony…

In true sitcom fashion, the scene cuts from the window to the rooftop garden of Saxton/Saboteur tower, where a lovely wedding is being assembled. Beautiful white pews make up the gallery and sit in front of a grand stage covered in white rose pedals with the centerpiece of it all being an incredible, handcrafted arbor. To the side are a trio of wedding bells being polished by a bell polisher, and to the right of the bells is an organ, being polished by an organ polisher.

Saxton: I… I don’t believe it. How did you manage to pull all of this together?

Saboteur: You think you know wedding planning Saxton? I invented wedding planning!

Saxton: Um, what is Krypto doing here?

Sure enough, WZCW’s resident alien and self-proclaimed sexual savior is flipping through some notes at the foot of the stage.

Saboteur: In a stroke of genius, I booked Krypto to oversee the wedding.

Saxton: What makes Krypto qualified to marry you to a Chinese sex doll? Did he take one of those online ministry courses or sumthin’?

Saboteur: No, he’s the captain of a space ship, and people get married on boats all the time on TV, so I figured he could just do the ceremony here, I’ll pay him back by not stuffing him into the garbage chute, and I’ll save like, twenty bucks.

Saxton: This is… unbelievable. I guess big things are happening in the lives of Saxton and Saboteur these days.

Saboteur: I’ll say, I’m getting married, and you’re gonna be the best man!

Saxton: No you jive turkey, I mean… wait a minute; I’m the best man?

Saboteur: You sure are!

Saxton: What about Garrett?

Saboteur: Garrett’s too busy being the flower girl to be the best man. Besides, he gets the nervous sweats when it comes to public speaking, and I need my best man speech to be something worth remembering!

Saxton: Sucka, I would be honored to be your best man. I just wish you gave me a little heads up so I could prepare a speech. Oh well, I guess I’ll just use whatever time there is between now and the ceremony…

All of a sudden the organ starts playing and wedding guests file in and take their seats in the pews.

Saxton: What the…

Saboteur: The wedding is starting Saxton! We must get into attack/marriage positions!

Saxton: I’m not ready for a wedding: I’m still in my bathrobe!

Saboteur: Or are you?

Saxton looks down and without any warning he has left his fluffy, burgundy bathrobe and entered a very handsome tuxedo.

Saxton: What the… how do you always do that!?

Saboteur: No time to explain, get in your position!

In one graceful move Saboteur leaps to the altar where he stands happily waiting for his blushing bride. Saxton shrugs his shoulders before making his way to Saboteur’s side where he will stand guard as groomsman.

Saboteur: Hello loyal readers. Let’s be real here, the hack that writes this crap is a little out of his element when it comes to this wedding stuff. I decided to sneak away from his tyrannical pen… or keyboard… or whatever, and let you know that the idiot that was recording the wedding ceremony forgot to hit the record button and therefore the footage was lost. Here’s a firsthand account from Krypto.

Krypto: I looked under Chelsea’s dress and it smelled like burnt rubber.

Saboteur: Thanks Krypto, that was… informative. Anyway, let’s just get on with it.

With Saboteur and Chelsea officially man and sex doll, the wedding reception has gotten under way. Within just a few minutes the Saxton/Saboteur Tower staff has morphed the rooftop chapel into a rooftop party area, complete with dance floor, open bar, and a ten-foot tall wedding cake.

The focus of the reception, though, is of course the bride and groom’s table. On Saboteur’s side sits his friends: Action Saxton, Krypto, Garrett, and Alvin, the rarely mentioned but occasionally relevant WZCW intern. On Chelsea’s side sits an array of other inanimate but humanoid objects, including a three foot tall Barbie doll with bite marks all over it (Krypto’s work), a cardboard cutout of Justin Beiber with various doodles on his face (Saboteur’s work), and a Kung Fu sparring robot that is missing a head (Saxton’s work).

Saboteur: It was a lovely ceremony, wasn’t it Saxton?

Saxton: I can barely remember any of it, so yeah, it was pretty solid.

Saboteur: Yup, it sure was a great wedding...

Saboteur rolls his fingers on the table for a few seconds before aggressively sticking a microphone in Saxton's hands.

Saboteur: Okay, it's best man speech time, dazzle them soul brother!

Saxton: A speech?! You seriously think that I can just pull a speech outta my fine behind on a moment’s notice?

Saboteur: Yes.

Saxton: Maaaaan… fine, here it goes.

Saxton rises to make the best man’s speech, but his trademark confidence does not seem to be with him.

Saxton: Saboteur and Chelsea… well, uh, congratulations I guess. I guess I’m supposed to spit some story about the couple. I’ve known the couple since their inception, ever since Saboteur bought Chelsea at some shady Chinese sex shop.

Saboteur leans over and squeeze’s Chelsea’s hand, smiling at the memory.

Saxton: And uh… actually, can I be honest with you folks? I did not wake up this morning expecting to give a best man’s speech. I didn’t wake up expecting to see my tag team partner get married to a military grade Chinese sex doll in a wedding officiated by an alien that used to live here, and I especially didn’t expect the bartender to have such a fine ass collection of malt liquor, so props to him for that.

Today is a day marked by the unexpected prevailing… but isn’t that every day? If we lived our lives according to a plan, then what would be the point of getting out of bed every morning when we know what’s going to happen? We live to find out what type of crazy ride life has in store for us. Sometimes life has unexpected tragedies, like finding out the manplant that taught you Kung Fu is dying. Sometimes life has unexpected joys, like finding out your best friend is getting married.

This is the nature of the world we live in, and Saboteur and I know that better than anyone. You see, we live in a world of professional wrestling where almost nothing makes sense and everything can happen. This week the groom and I are wrestling two opponents that personify the unexpected happening: one guy has a bearded sister that seems to show up everywhere without even the slightest of warning, and the other guy spent the last weekend unknowingly at some sort of gay-convention.

There are those that fight against the unexpected. You know who I’m talking about: Sam Smith and Rush. They fight for control, order, and quite frankly, the ordinary. They think that they can make the world predictable by fighting against it, but they are wrong. Chaos is not a force against which we fight, but a storm that he weather together. That’s why Saboteur and I have been such a massive success: we haven’t run from the chaos that engulfs our live, but we find ways to make it through. Whether that means traveling through time to change the future or getting into shenanigans to make sense of our crazy situations, Saboteur and I know what it means to face a day full of uncertainty.

This wedding is not just the marriage of a spandex covered goofball to a military-grade Chinese sex doll: it is a metaphor for embracing chaos. You never know what’s going to happen when you wake up in the morning, and today, my best friend and tag team partner married a military grade Chinese sex doll. Saboteur, mazel tov, and good luck.

Saxton raises his bottle of malt liquor to a thunderous round of applause from the guests. Everyone takes a drink in honor of the toast, and the party continues.

Except for one lingering slow clap.

*Clap… Clap… Clap… Clap*

Jerry slowly approaches Saxton and Saboteur.

Jerry: A beautiful speech, Saxton. It’s true, you can never anticipate what the day may throw at you.

Saxton: Saxton? Don’t you have some weird nickname for me that don’t make any sense?

Jerry: If you thought that the craziest thing that happened today was the wedding between a costumed freak and an inanimate object, then you thought wrong.

Saboteur: Am I the costumed freak or inanimate object?

Saxton: Jerry, you’re being ominous. Why the hell are you being so ominous?

Jerry: Because, Saxton, I am not Jerry…

 

[The Doctor]

Signal Panic, Inc. Presents
Action Saxton & Saboteur
in
"The Reception At The End of the Universe!​

Jerry reached up and started pulling at his face. With a horrible squelching sound, the fake skin started to tear away into his hands, and underneath his person-mask was a mask of a very different sort.

"No..." Action Saxton gasped.

"Yes!" the masked man who had been posing as top agent Jerry Fogle said. "It is I, your evil arch-nemesis, Mexican ninja El Habanero! And this time, I have the advantage!"

"No!" Action Saxton yelled, reeling. "No, it can't be true! Sucka, that's not possible! I had you scouted!"

El Habanero laughed evilly. "You didn't scout me well enough, amigo!" he said. "If you had known me as well as you thought you had known me, you would have seen through my evil infiltration plot! It has all been building up to this moment, Action Saxton, and tonight, it all ends!"

"What ends?" Saboteur asked, holding his bride, Chelsea, tightly. "You'd better not be causing the apocalypse before our honeymoon!"

"Not the world, you goofy gordita!" snarled El Habanero. "Tonight, Action Saxton will fall by my hands, and then I will never have to hear about his ridiculous kung fu nor watch another one of his awful movies again!"

"Sucka, I won multiple Blackademy Awards!" Action Saxton barked. "Now before you do anythin', you're gonna have to tell me one thing. I had some of my best ninjas trackin' you down. How the hell did you get past them?"

"That would be my doing!"

A new voice answered the Badass Brother. His eyes grew wider than they had in a very long time and he took a step back as a very familiar song began to play.

​

"Popular Latin Singer Ricky Martin?" Action Saxton gasped.

"That's right, Action Saxton!" Popular Latin Singer Ricky Martin exclaimed. "Or should I say...non-Action Saxton? Mya! Ha!"

Action Saxton glared at the pop sensation. "I should have known that layin' the smack-dab on your bedazzled ass wouldn't have been enough to stop your suggestive gyrations and villainously catchy schemes."

"I am disappointed that you never figured it out," Ricky Martin said. He twirled over to El Habanero, a rose clutched between his teeth. "You are normally so on the ball."

"I used this popular Latin singer as a body double to fool all of your ninja spies," El Habanero explained. "He was easy to convince. I offered him only the finest Sushi Nachos in payment, and he was more than happy to oblige."

Ricky Martin batted an eyelid, his immaculately-coiffed hair shining. "El Habanero promised me delicious nachos and the chance to finally get my revenge on your for that time in Vietnam all those years ago," he said. "Truly, how could I refuse?"

"You fiendish fools!" Action Saxton roared. He pointed a finger at Ricky Martin, who was currently performing an elaborate cha-cha. "Your fool ass can't fool me, sucka. I beat your head in once, and I ain't afraid to do it again. You ain't gonna be livin' la vida loca once I'm done with you. In fact, you ain't gonna be livin' at all!"

Ricky Martin smirked. Action Saxton turned his attention to El Habanero.

"And you!" he said. "Sucka, you've been a constant thorn in my side for the longest damn time, and I think it's time we put an end to it."

"Mi amigo, I agree-go," El Habanero replied. "But you cannot stand against me, even if your fried friend is here by your side."

"I'm not fried!" Saboteur protested. "Even if I was cooked, I think I'd probably be roasted and served with potatoes."

Action Saxton turned to his tag team partner. "Sucka, do you spend a lot of time thinkin' about that?"

"Yes."

Action Saxton turned back to El Habanero. He crossed his arms. "What makes you think that just because you recruited some punk-ass sucka to do your bidding you got any kind of advantage over me?" he asked. "You're just some suckas I already beat the hell out of once. I'll just do it again."

"Not so fast, Action Saxton," El Habanero said, wagging his finger. "It is our final battle, and so I brought an army."

Dramatically, El Habanero threw an arm to one side. Action Saxton looked over to the horizon to see a wave of men in black slowly marching forward. They waved the Mexican flag high.

"Mexican ninjas?" Action Saxton asked. "What's so scary about a bunch of Mexican ninjas?"

"Look closer."

Action Saxton complied. Straining his eyes, he watched the ninja army march ever closer. Suddenly, he saw something that made his blood run cold. He shook his head.

"El Habanero, you jive mother!" he exclaimed. "Ninjas on dinosaurs in helicopters!"

"That's right! My plan was always to get close to you in order to take your time machine and form an army that even you cannot stop! Your time is up, amigo, and soon you will be mushed into a pile of refried bean paste!"

"Damn!" Action Saxton swore, and then looked at Saboteur. Wordlessly, Saboteur nodded, and drew his katanas. Together, the team turned to stare at the approaching ninja dinosaur horde, ready to fight.

El Habanero cackled. "Try as you might, you cannot stop the ninjasaurs!" he said.

"Sucka," Action Saxton replied, "sometimes, when things seem impossible, that is when you gotta fight harder than ever. I ain't gonna let a bunch of ninjasaurs take me out."

"And I'm gonna chop them up for ruining my reception!" Saboteur added.

"How can you two tiny taquitos expect to fight an army of Mexican ninjasaurs alone?" El Habanero asked.

"They're not alone!" a new voice echoed across the clearing. The wedding guests still there all gasped and turned towards the source of the voice. There, standing on his own two feet, sleek fur shining in the sunlight, was Henry, the talking bear.

"Henry! You're alive!" Saboteur exclaimed. "I thought that after we decided to hire Jerry instead of you as our PR manager, you'd gone and bearied yourself!"

An awkward silence filled the area as everyone turned to stare at Saboteur. He shrugged.

"That would have been beary unfortunate," he said.

"We don't have time for your ursanine bear puns, sucka!" Saxton said. "The ninjasaurs are gettin' closer!"

Before he could continue, he turned to see Saboteur sitting on top of Henry.

"Woo! Get 'em, Henry!" he yelled, and obediently, Henry started charging towards the ninjasaurs, Saboteur flailing his katanas wildly. Action Saxton turned back to El Habanero and Ricky Martin, but before he could destroy their egos with more pointed words, there was a loud roar from behind him. Slowly, Action Saxton turned around to find himself face-to-face with a ninja on a T-Rex.

The fight had begun.

The ninjasaurs piled in from all sides, sending the guests running for their lives. Action Saxton ducked, dodged, and weaved. Thanks to the t-rex's tiny arms, it wasn't able to block the flurry of fists from the Blackademy Award-winner. Stunned, the dinosaur reeled back, allowing Action Saxton to scale a column and punch the ninja off the dinosaur and down to the ground.

"That's what you get from messin' with a certified Kung Fu Master!" Action Saxton roared. "You goofy-ass suckas better stop slackin', or you be kicked in the head by Action S-"

The dinosaur cut him off with a roar and bucked Saxton off of its back. He landed in front of the dinosaur and stared into its gaping maw. He could see the saliva dribbling off of each of its long, pointed teeth, its pink tongue flickering, licking where its lips would be if it had any. Its pitiless yellow eyes stared at the Badass Brother. Slowly, the raging reptile lowered its head and opened wide.

"Get to steppin'!" came a new voice. The dinosaur reeled back as a new figure jumped in front of it and started hitting it on the nose with some nunchuks. He turned around, and Action Saxton could do nothing but smile.

"My old friend Kung Fu Jones," he said. "You always know when to save my ass."

"Of course I do, man!" Kung Fu Jones said, still beating the dinosaur into submission. "Why do you think we was partners back in the Army?"

Action Saxton got to his feet and look at the remaining ninjasaurs. "You think you can take them?"

Kung Fu Jones grinned. "You bet I can. Go get El Habanero."

With a nod, Action Saxton turned and started to run towards the Mexican ninja and Ricky Martin's spots in the front of the room. On the Badass Brother's approach, El Habanero stepped backwards, allowing popular Latin singer Ricky Martin to come face-to-face with Action Saxton.

"Senor Saxton," the singer said, coolly looking into the wrestler's eyes.

"Sucka," Saxton replied, not blinking.

"Do you remember the time I tried to sabotage your very first official WZCW t-shirt?"

"All too well."

"Do you remember how you punched me before I could execute my final attack, the Shake Your Bon-Bon Bomb?"

"Hell yeah, and I'm about to punch you again."

Action Saxton drew back a fist, but Ricky Martin deftly stepped to one side.

"Tsk, tsk, Senor Saxton," Ricky Martin said. "You need to not be so obvious. You may be an excellent kung fu master, but I know your tricks, and there is no way you will even touch me now."

Action Saxton shouted in anger and started swinging wildly. With his focus gone, none of the punches connected.

"You must try harder, Senor Saxton!" Ricky Martin said as he laughed. "But no matter. It is time for my retaliation. Prepare yourself for the She Bang!"

Ricky Martin reached to the sky and closed his eyes, gathering up energy for his deadly maneuver, when suddenly another figure jumped forward and backhanded him across the face.

"That's enough, amigo!" the new figure said.

"Wait, what the hell?" Action Saxton exclaimed. "You're popular Latin singer Ricky Martin, too!"

"Head of WZCW's Marketing Department, Senor Saxton," the new Ricky Martin replied. "And this man -" he indicated the Ricky Martin currently on the ground holding his jaw, "-is an imposter!"

With that, the new Ricky Martin reached down and tugged at the Ricky Martin Lookalike Mask the imposter was wearing. It slid off slowly to reveal-

"Armando Paradyse!" Action Saxton exclaimed. "I should have known it was you, because no one else would have went down after such a puny-ass backhand! Ricky Martin, I knew you had changed your ways!"

"We have no time to talk, senor," the real Ricky Martin said. "Your friends and I will take care of the ninjasaurs. El Habanero is escaping."

"Aw, hell no!" Action Saxton said. Indeed, El Habanero was escaping, but the Badass Brother wasn't going to let him go. He gave chase, jumping off the building and tearing down the field El Habanero had taken to, closing in on the running Mexican ninja. Every so often, El Habanero would look behind himself to see Action Saxton coming closer and closer and closer. Finally, with a yell, Action Saxton launched himself forward and slammed into El Habanero with colossal force. The two men went down, hard.

"Ow!" El Habanero said, his voice muffled as Action Saxton shoved it into the grass.

"This is the final time we ever fightin', sucka," Action Saxton said. "Now you can either give up now or I will make you give up, do you understand me?"

El Habanero spat out a mouthful of turf from under his mask. "You'll never defeat me, Action Saxton!" he coughed.

"You ain't the first to say that, sucka, and you won't be the last," Action Saxton replied. "But I get where I am because of the people I know and the people I care enough about to call my friends. I don't have to reach out to suckas I only kinda know, these suckas are people I have met through my journey and they make it possible for me to do my damn best every day of my life. You can have all the henchmen in the world but if you ain't got teammates you ain't got nothin'. And you know why I like havin' teammates?"

El Habanero muttered something into the grass. Action Saxton smiled.

"I like havin' teammates because they can beat up your stupid-ass ninjasaurs, and that leaves me free-"

He stood up and lifted El Habanero by the scruff his neck. El Habanero was kicking and screaming, but Action Saxton's grip stayed firm.

"-to kick-"

Action Saxton wound up and started spinning El Habanero around.

"-your-"

He pulled back.

"-ass!"

With as much strength as he could muster, Action Saxton tossed the Mexican Ninja as far as he could into the air. With a whistling noise, El Habanero took flight, flying faster and faster towards the moon. Finally, there was a muffled crash. The moon shook for a few seconds, and then lay still. Action Saxton waved at it, dusted his hands off, and started walking back to the reception area, ready to clean up the mess.

So watch out, all you jive turkeys and herky-jerkeys out there, all you big bears and men with facial hairs, because at the Supershow, a baadasssss brotha is coming to collect some dues...