Roderick McRatrick(champion) vs Promo

As a reminder Roderick McRatrick must choose from one of the the three main stipulations of Hardcore, Submission, or Technical that the A1E Triple Star Title will be defended under. The stipulation that Roderick chooses will remain in effect until either he loses the A1E Triple Star Title, or until after A1E's Golden Dreams IV! Whichever one comes first.


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:: FADEIN to the backstage area following the recent Tuesday Night Warfare show. We can see Promo walking towards the wrestler's parking area. He has changed into his normal street clothes and has a bag across his shoulder. He's walking intently, not speaking to anyone, when a stagehand yells that next week's lineup is posted at Nathan Houston's office. ::

PROMO: Might as well get the disappointing news now instead of waiting. I mean, after all, Nathan Houston's got his head so far up his own ass that it should be a real treat to see who he's decided to pair me up with this week. I mean, come on, here I am, a brutalizing madman who is just waiting to take this whole place down and he's got me teaming with some hack Obsidian. That guy couldn't hold his own in that match tonight, but I'm sure that he'll be the lucky coattail rider again this week though.

:: Promo comes up to Nathan Houston's office and glances at the paper hanging on the door. ::

I'll be damned.

Looks like maybe Houston's starting to come around. Maybe he's decided that having some lucky freak walking around with one of his precious little championships isn't as beneficial to his company plans as he thought. Either way, it's not good news for Roderick McRatrick. Not good news at all. No Roderick, you see, you've got me at my utmost best. You've got an unhinged Promo coming at you without any concerns about my well being, job security or anything else.

But most of all, you've got a pain coming your way, Roderick. You've got all of the pain and suffering of my misery that's been inflicted upon me by A1E, and it's going to be directed right at you. So close to Golden Dreams, and your hopes of walking into such a celebrated event as a champion, they're blown away like a candle in a hurricane.

Roderick, the beaten man knows no recourse except to fight. That's me Roderick. I've been beaten down and held down, and now, just now, am I starting to turn the tide. I've got no other choices but to fight and as everyone knows, when I come to fight, the bloodshed can sometimes get out of control.

Is that what's going to worry you Roderick? The pain and bloodshed? Will that keep you from making this a hardcore match? Will you be too tempted to take this match away from that, not playing into my game? Perhaps a submission match will do you?

Full of questions aren't I? As you probably did not notice, I've developed a nice little submission game lately and to make you tap would be a great way to take that title belt home with me.

But you're to crafty to fall into any of my traps, aren't you Roderick? You'll bring all of your advisors, Squiggy, The Wax, The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker and a blow-up doll for every fan in attendance for all that I care. It will not do you any good. None.

Your time as a champion is about to conclude Roderick. The sand in your hour glass is running out. And when it does, and you're looking up at the ceiling, counting the stars, know that it was Promo who ended your reign.

And if you think otherwise, fuck you.

:: FADEOUT as Promo turns and walks around the corner to leave the arena. ::

We're in the XCel Energy Center in St. Paul, Minnesota, and Squiggy Jackson is standing by with Roderick McRatrick and his coterie of no less than ten people, including The Wax, Rusty Joe, "Rodney McRipped," Helga the Overweight S&M Dominatrix, shootfighter extraordinaire Randy McRanderson, small ralph (hi small ralph ), Wigglytuff McDipoleson and three other people. One has a white apron with red, splotchy stains on it, one has a funny looking hat and weird black-and-white checkered pants and the other is dressed normally.

SJ: Alright, I'm standing by with Roderick McRatrick and a host of others... why, pray tell, do you have all these people standing with you?

RMR: Two reasons, Squigmeister. One, because their A1E contracts all bind them to make mandatory appearances every now and then, and I'd figure I'd get them out of the way now. Two, because I'm going up against a member of the MIGHTY MORPHIN' POWER RANGERS! and I need some backup, and three, because Power Ranger Promo said that I should bring them too.

SJ: One, I thought it you said two reasons? You gave three!

RMR: I know, I said three.

SJ: No, you said two.

Guy in apron: No cous, he said three.

SJ: Wait, who are you? And the other two too?

RMR: That's my butcher, Al.

Al: Yo.

RMR: That's my baker, Luigi.

Luigi: Hey-a, how ya doin'-a?

RMR: And that's Clevon, my personal candlestick maker.

Clevon: Pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir!

SJ: I see... anyway, what gives you the bright idea that Promo is a Power Ranger, anyway?

RMR: Well, have you seen him? The poofy pants? The mask? Dead giveaway! I wonder which one he is... is he the green one? Or the blue one? Oooh, I bet he's the black one, because he's all dark and gothy and stuff. I bet he knows the script to A Nightmare Before Christmas by heart too, you know, because all dark people know that.

SJ: I assure you, he's not a Power Rang...

RMR: Ooh, maybe he knows the Pink one. Man, she was smokin' hot... *crack*

Helga whips Roderick with her cat o' nine tails

RMR: What was that for?

Helga: Don't even think about cheating on me!

RMR: But that was a one night thing! I even took massive drugs so I could forget about it, but it was... *shiver* uggh...

Helga: Do you want to live to see this title defense?

RMR: Yeah.

Helga: Then no ogling other women!

RMR: (sheepishly) Yes dear...

SJ: Anyway...

RMR: Hey, I'm not done yet! Anyway, I got all these people here because when he starts losing, and you know he will, he's gonna call on all his other Power Ranger buddies and they're powers are gonna combine, but even their powers combined won't be enough for me and my McRatpack!

SJ: McRatpack?

RMR: Yes, McRatpack.

SJ: Oookay... moving on, what about your stipulation?

RMR: Stipulation? I picked one last week.

SJ: No you didn't.

RMR: Yes I did. I picked cheating.

SJ: And I told you, that wasn't a regular stipulation.

RMR: Okay then, I choose cheating.

SJ: But that's not...

RMR: Sheesh, you and your "rules"... man, okay, you're making this hard, but I choose rule-breaking.

SJ: How many times do I have to tell you!

Rusty Joe wakes up.

RJ: I be onery!

SJ: O... kay... anyway, since I'm assuming this is the direction you're going in, you're choosing hardcore, right?

RMR: I don't know, can I cheat?

SJ: (exasperatedly) Yes... you can cheat.

RMR: Woohoo! Aww yeah, wrap this baby up because I won already...

SJ: But Promo is a hardcore legend. He was the only UXW Champion and he's lethal with a kendo stick.

RMR: Bah, that doesn't faze me. Because I'm master of hitting people below the belt and sticking cattle prods up their asses. Which is what I intend to do in full force.

SJ: Yeah, but Promo's pissed off. He's taken on a new attitude, and he's already pretty much guaranteed a win.

RMR: And let me guess, he said if I thought otherwise that he'd try to sodomize my leather cheerio, didn't he?

SJ: Well, no he said, in no uncertain terms, f- you.

RMR: Yeah, which means he wants to punch my doughnut. Well, he's not gonna do that. In fact, if he wants that action, he ought to hook up with the loser I trounced last week.

SJ: Yeah, but...

sr: you make small ralph feel a large hate, mixy

SJ: Ooo..kay... you know, with that, I think I'm out.

Squiggy runs off screen. Roderick turns to his crowd.

RMR: Hey, who wants to go rob a liquor store?

Everyone in unison: ME!

RMR: LET'S GO THEN!

The crowd moves offscreen, presumably to rob a liquor store.

:: FADEIN to an apartment. The camera pans around and we see Promo staring out of a window. As the camera adjusts to get as close to a frontal view as possible, he begins to speak. ::

PROMO: The laughter must have consumed you as a child, didn't it Roderick? Were you always the child in class who had to make jokes to try and fit in? Perhaps because you weren't part of the "in" crowd? Or maybe you were scared of getting your lunch money stolen, and now it's led you here, to A1E, where you make a mockery of anything and everything that anyone has to say to you?

Power Rangers? Perhaps you will join me in the real world for awhile this week. Perhaps not.

No, you see, the secret to beating you Roderick, isn't by tearing you down layer by layer. It's not by continuously pointing out how ridiculous you are with your assorted characters which seem to constitute your entourage.

No.

The secret to beating you is to simply withstand your comedy routine without getting caught up in an endless war of words. Quite simply put, there's nothing that I can say to you that you won't twist and manipulate into something so absurd that only you will understand it.

Roderick, do you really understand what you're about to experience this week? Do you know that that gold belt that you're carrying around has put a target on your back. Wait a minute, I know, in your next vignette, you'll actually have a target on your back.

But the positive thing about you Roderick is that no matter what anybody says, you have an answer. I don't believe I've ever seen you at a loss for words. Ever. However, Roderick, I refuse to fight this battle in your world. I refuse to get caught up in a war of words with you. Because in my world, actions speak louder than words.

A kendo stick shot across the face speaks so much clearer than any of your little friends could think of doing. And thanks to you and your cheating ways, you picked the one stipulation that sealed your doom. Hardcore.

It's not my nature to say "thanks", but I'll make an acception this time. You have got to be the stupidest motherfucker in A1E if you think you'll survive a hardcore battle against the most hardcore man in A1E.

You're a fool if you think you've got even an outside shot at winning this. It's not even going to be close. Roderick, my entire career has been about pain and suffering. I've given and received both on numerous occasions. I've endured brutal beatings at the hands of Spoiler. I've been burned by hot grease inside a Burger King restaurant by Rat. I've retired men such as Nemesys and Paco the Wetback. And now my career is about to be defined once again by a battle against a top hat wearing idiot.

Will I allow that definition to be a defeat at your hands?

No.....fucking.....way.

I'm ready for whatever you can bring to the ring, Roderick. I've studied you. I know your ways and I know that you and that title are soon going to part ways.

You're walking into my world of pain, Roderick. And in my world, pain goes by the name of Promo. So, for now, you can continue to live in your little freakshow of a world, but at Tuesday Night Warfare, you'll suffer in mine.

:: FADEOUT as Promo continues looking out the window. ::

We're back at the XCel Energy Center where Roderick McRatrick, all by his lonesome now, is standing by with Squiggy Jackson. Squigster, take it away!

SJ: O...kay... anyway, Roderick... umm, where is everyone?

RMR: Oh, they all got arrested for knocking up a liquor store.

SJ: They what now?

RMR: Yeah, they robbed a liquor store.

SJ: Why didn't you get arrested? Weren't you there with them?

RMR: Well, to make a long story short, I told them I was going to go stop in Burger King for a little bit. While I was in there, some pimply faced idiot poured grease on my arm and it left a burn. See?

Roderick shows Squiggy his arm.

SJ: Dude, that's not a burn. You just colored in a part of your forearm red with magic marker.

RMR: No I didn't. I really burnt it. Wanna touch it?

SJ: Sure.

Squiggy touches the "burn". Roderick makes no reaction.

SJ: See, I told you. It's not a burn.

RMR: Yes it is.

SJ: Well, if it was burnt, you would have recoiled in pain.

Roderick stares at Squiggy for a moment, then recoils in pain, holding his arm.

RMR: OOOUUU my arm!! The agony!!

SJ: Nice try.

RMR: Really?

SJ: No.

RMR: Well... I was drinking heavily... so my... so my reaction time is off. Yeah, that's it.

SJ: Right. So anyway, you were in Burger King?

RMR: I was? When was this?

SJ: While your friends were robbing the liquor store.

RMR: Friends? Ha! You should know me better than that, Squigster. I have no friends!

SJ: Dear Lord... anyway, what have you to say about Promo's recent statements?

RMR: Well, I really don't have much, seeing that one, he doesn't want any part of me. Two, I don't even think he knows he's facing me, and three, when the hell did the Power Rangers get so foul-mouthed?

SJ: Well for one, where do you get off thinking he doesn't want any part of you?

RMR: He said it, he doesn't want to get into a war of words with me, which only leads me to believe that he doesn't want to get shown up by me, the master of orations and the mastur of bation, and that he has no shot of winning my prestigious Triple Star Championship.

SJ: I don't think that's the case. I think it's because he thinks you're an idiot.

RMR: Oh really? Well, I'm sure of what I said as sure as I got burned with grease in Burger King while my friends were robbing a liquor store!

SJ: But... nevermind... anyway, why would you think he doesn't know he's facing you?

RMR; Well, he said he was going into battle with a top hat wearing idiot. Now, I don't see anyone wearing a top hat around here, do you?

SJ: I do.

RMR: Where?

Lord Tophattington: I say mate!

RMR: Lord Tophattington! What a pleasant surprise!

SJ: His name is actually Lord Tophattington?

LT: Yes, you bloody wanker, I am the one and only Lord Tophattington.

RMR: So are you going to be facing the Power Ranger this week?

LT: I'm afraid not, unless I signed one of those contracts while I was drunk off brandy! *guffaw*

RMR: Oh Lord Tophattington...

SJ: Hey listen, you top hatted freak, you're not wrestling this week. Neither is small ralph nor Rusty Joe nor Rodney McRipped. Just stop trying to get out of defending your title for once...

RMR: Settle down Squigman. Sheesh, don't make me have to color your arm in with red magic marker and make you pretend you're burnt.

SJ: AHA!

RMR: What?

SJ: You just admitted your fraud!

RMR: No I didn't. I admitted no fraud. Besides, who's asking, Allstate? If they are, my name is Klaus Von Insurancefraud. That's the name I gave them.

SJ: You know what, trading wits with you is an exercise in futility.

RMR: But hey, exercise is good for you!

SJ: Anyway... speaking of Power Rangers, Promo doesn't quite like you calling him a Power Ranger.

RMR: Well, that's on him. Maybe he shouldn't have joined in the first place.

SJ: But he's not a Power Ranger.

RMR: AHAHAHA, yeah, that's rich, and the next thing you're going to tell me is that the moon landing was real.

SJ: But it was.

RMR: Hey... shut up. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to...

SJ: Oh no you don't. You still have some things to address.

RMR: Darn.

SJ: What do you have to say about Promo claiming that he's going to destroy you in the hardcore setting?

RMR: That's nonsense. We all know that even though this Power Ranger is really foul-mouthed (probably after being in bed with that Pink Ranger... wowee!), he, like all his Power Ranger brethren, is a goody two-shoes. He won't cheat like I will. And that's why I chose the cheating stipulation. So I could cheat to my heart's content.

SJ: But you already do that.

RMR: Yeah, but now I can flaunt it.

SJ: Touche.

RMR: And in fact, after I'm done putting Power Ranger in a world of pain, I'm going to wash his mouth out with soap. Really bad tasting soap. And in my world, pain goes by the name of Josh Hartnett!

SJ: Josh Hartnett?

RMR: Yeah, you ever seen 40 Days and 40 Nights?

SJ: Can't say I have.

RMR: Well then, you don't know true pain. Anyway, I think that's enough. Hey, Lord Tophattington, you want to go get a spot of tea?

LT: Spot on!

Roderick and the Lord walk off.

SJ: I need a new job.

Squiggy walks off, presumably in search of the classified pages.

:: FADEIN to Squiggy Jackson walking backstage, microphone in hand. He's muttering something that isn't quite audible when suddenly a door opens and he's jerked into it. The camera switches to inside the room, which is pitch black. ::

SQUIGGY: Alright Roderick, this isn't funny.

:: Suddenly, a flashlight is turned on and we see Squiggy's face as a small sweat is starting to break on his forehead. ::

SQUIGGY: Roderick? I said this isn't funny. Now then, turn on the light and let me out of here.

:: The holder of the light approaches Roderick McRatrick's personal interviewer and when the camera is directly in front of his face, it is turned up and we can see the masked Promo standing almost nose to nose with Squiggy. ::

SQUIGGY: My God man, are you insane, you scared the bejesus out of me. Isn't it enough that I have to go around interviewing that buffoon every week? No, now I've got to be manhandled by his opponents whi...

PROMO: (Cutting Squiggy off) Shut the fuck up. You're here for one reason and one reason only. To deliver a message to your buddy Roderick. You can tell him that anytime, anywhere, I can strike. It doesn't have to be an official A1E match. It might be before our match. It might be while he's leaving the arena. Hell, it might be a damned Burger King restaurant.

He's ridiculed that belt for long enough and it's time for someone to step up and put an end to his nonsense.

Nathan Houston has apparently turned over control of this hellhole to someone with at least half a brain, because I'm getting the opportunity to be the man to shut Roderick up.

That's right, Squiggy, it looks like you have definitely picked the right time to start thinking about other lines of employment, because I'm on a mission this week.

Unlike no other time here in A1E, I know exactly what has to be done. I've heard the people talking about how I may have finally turned the corner here in A1E. I've read the sheets saying that it's time for me to break out of the slump that I've been in.

And what better way to do it than to put a nice big belt around my waist?

SQUIGGY: Uh, uh, look Mr. Promo, I'm sure you've noticed that me and that guy don't really get along and I'm just collecting a paycheck. It's all of the other idiots that tag along with him that you have to worry about.

PROMO: Worry? I have to worry about the circus freaks that have allegedly been arrested for knocking over a liquor store? What a fucking joke.

Listen kid,

SQUIGGY: I'm just sayin' tha...

:: A loud crack is heard, presumably, Promo has just slammed his kendo stick against the concrete wall next to Squiggy Jackson's head. ::

PROMO: His time is up, and I'm not worried about one damn thing. He's the fool who has picked my specialty for this defense. If he thinks for one damned second that he's more hardcore than I am, then we'll let the blood from his body tell him the truth. Roderick, fool that you are, when you watch this segment, I want you to stop for one moment and honestly ask yourself if this is all worth it?

Ask yourself if losing your ability to make a living in this sport is worth getting my blood boiling anymore?

Ask yourself if you've pushed me to the point where I no longer care if your bones are broken?

Ask yourself if you really want to do this with a madman such as myself?

And I know that you will do exactly that in your own twisted way, because that's exactly what I want you to do Roderick. I want you to continue to push my buttons. I want you to continue the Power Rangers talk. I want you to continue doing exactly what you're doing.

And that's to not take me seriously. A mistake that you will pay dearly for.

As for this little punk, he's free to go.

:: The flashlight turns off and the door is opened. We then see Squiggy Jackson tossed into the hallway into a speaker box. ::

VOICE: Ever seen anyone scared so shitless before?

:: The flashlight is turned back on, but this time it's pointed directly at the camera, not allowing anything to be seen. But apparently, there is someone else in the room. ::

PROMO: We'll see, man, we'll see. Either way, Nathan Houston is going to take some serious notice this week and it's going to either be by having to deal with a new Triple Star champion, or it's going to be by him having to figure out how to crown a new one when I put Roderick McRatrick on the shelf for awhile.

Roderick, we'll be seeing you somewhere down the line, count on it.

:: The flashlight is left on as the door opens up again and we can see two figures leave the room. ::

We're back in the arena, and once again Roderick McRatrick is standing by with a visibly shaken Squiggy Jackson.

RMR: Hey, Squigman, what's going on?

SJ: Oh nothing.

RMR: Nothing? Then why are you so visibly shaken?

SJ: I'm not, I'm not.

RMR: Yes you are. The disembodied voice said so!

SJ: Am not!

RMR: Wait a second... you're hiding something!

SJ: Am not!

RMR: You've been interviewing other wrestlers, haven't you!

SJ: It's not like I had any choice! He came barrelling in...

RMR: AHA! So you're cheating on me! I demand with whom!

SJ: I don't need to tel... hey, wait a cotton-picking minute here, I'm not your significant other. I'm an A1E employee! In fact, you know what this mean?

RMR: That the Red Sox made a porn video with Nicole Richie and then contracted syphilis?

SJ: Um. No.

RMR: Then what! My pee is burning!

SJ: Don't you mean your ears?

RMR: Yeah, that's what I said.

SJ: *sigh* Anyway, that means now that I've interviewed Promo, I guess I've been, promoted?

RMR: Wait a second... you did what?

SJ: I've been promoted?

RMR: NO, before that.

SJ: Oh, I interviewed Promo?

RMR: You did what? YOu played golf with the corpse of Elvis? Of all the despicable low down...

SJ: No, I interviewed Promo.

RMR: Oh, well, that's not too bad. What did he, um, what did he have to say?

SJ: Well, he said he's tired of you ridiculing the belt, he's going to make you pay for ridiculing said belt, he doesn't think you're as hardcore as he is.

RMR: Yadda yadda yadda?

SJ: Yeah, pretty much.

RMR: Oh, well, that wasn't so bad. SOunds like the paint by numbers session we've come to know and love from Power Ranger.

SJ: Oh, he said he wants you to continue calling him Power Ranger.

RMR: Okay, I wasn't planning on stopping though.

SJ: Well, I think he meant it sarcastically because he thinks you don't take him seriously.

RMR: Oh, well, I can't argue that. I don't take anyone seriously. Even the IRS. Which reminds me if you see an agent looking for me to do an audit, tell them I migrated back to my homeland of Southeastern Central Tibet.

SJ: I'm not lying to the federal government for cheating on your taxes for you!

RMR: Okay. And that just goes to prove that I'm much better at cheating than Power Ranger anyway.

SJ: Well, you probably have the market cornered on cheating.

RMR: Yeah, which is why it doesn't matter if he's more hardcore than I am. I cheat much, much better. I got straight As in high school, you wanna know how?

SJ: Umm...

RMR: By cheating. That's right. And if that means I have to prove it by cheating with Nathan Houston's wife, I will.

SJ: But that won't do anything but get you in hot water with the commissioner.

RMR: Please, I'm not getting into hot water with him, I'm getting into it with his wife. I have a hot tub rented and everything.

SJ: You have no conscience.

RMR: I know! That's why I'm testifying against all those guys I was with when they were robbing that liquor store! I might even lie under oath too.

SJ: Christ... anyway, any final words for Promo?

RMR: Yeah. Power Ranger is a doodyhead.

SJ: That's it?

RMR: Yeah, that's it, oh yeah, and I'm also going to need to remind myself later to pick up some ground beef at the grocery store. Yeah, I'm making tacos tomorrow. In fact, can I have a copy of this tape when we're done rolling?

SJ: Umm, I don't know actually... you'd hve to ask the producer.

RMR: Okay, just so I can pick up that beef. Anyway, I'm off.

SJ: Wait, what happened to Lord Tophattington?

RMR: Oh, he got locked up for robbing the tea store.

SJ: Wait, there's a tea store?

RMR: Yeah. On the corner of Quagalaga and Hasdfasf.

SJ: They're not real street names.

RMR: Yes they are. Now I'm leaving.

Roderick walks off as Squiggy stands there befuddled.

:: FADEIN to Promo who has just stepped out of his locker room, kendo stick in hand, and is making his way through the backstage area. ::

PROMO: Roderick, in case you have forgotten, you have a title defense tonight against a man who is on a mission. A mission to rid you of the leather and gold that you continue to taint with your ridiculous attitude towards it and this sport.

That's right, I said "sport". Not a comedy festival featuring you and your merry band of misfits.

With every tape that I have to watch of you, I grow more and more disgusted of what you represent.

My stomach twists itself into knots knowing that here in A1E, somehow, someway, you achieved success before I did.

While you continue to mock your way into battle week in and week out, a true competitor such as myself has been pushed to the back of the pack by Nathan Houston.

Perhaps it's true about what you said about you and Houston's wife? Maybe the old man isn't taking care of business and she's decided to go slumming?

No, I don't think any woman would become so desperate without the aid of "medication".

But here we are, on the verge of warfare, and you haven't shown me the slightest bit of respect this week. And while you will say that I have received what I have given, I know the truth.

I know that if I'm not on top of every aspect of this match, you WILL find a way to snatch victory from defeat.

I know that if I don't take advantage of every mistake that you make, you WILL find new ways to make this match turn in your favore.

And I know that you do not fear me.

That's right Roderick, you have no fear in your eyes.

You're not smart enough to fear me and that might be your best chance in this match.

But it's only a chance, and it will not be enough.

The carnage is about to begin, Roderick. I hope your ready.

:: FADEOUT as Promo walks past the camera. ::