Monday Night Warfare September 3rd 2007

There is no pyro show for the start of the show. Why? Budget? Lack of fireworks? Probably not, but we are sent straight to Chairman Gingerdude’s office in the back where we see the Chairman standing right before the camera.

Ginger: Tonight, ACW goes under a drastic change, tonight begins the first ever ACW Draft. ACW will be split into two rosters, ACW Meltdown and ACW Warfare. With me being the owner of Warfare, this only leaves one possibility for owner of Meltdown.

The camera pulls out and standing beside the Chairman is WCW98, fresh off his yearly trip to France.

Ginger: It’s time to shake things up a b-

Suddenly a stage hand appears on camera and whispers into the ear of the Chairman.

Ginger: …what?......what do you mean it’s not happening?....a joke? WELL WHO MAKES JOKES LIKE THAT?!

A few more moments of whispering before the stagehand steps off camera.

Ginger: …then what is he doing here?

We cut to the stagehand who looks an awful lot like Gelman from Live with Regis and Kelly, who just shrugs. Ginger slowly turns in the direction of WCW98.

Ginger: Get the hell off my show!

WCW98: But…

Ginger: GET THE HELL OUT!

WCW98 scurries off.

Ginger: Just start the show, START THE BLOODY SHOW!

Fade Out.

Segment: Overkill (Credit: Senatorial Stable)

As we return from the commercial break, we find ourselves once again outside an all too familiar hallway, and before us is a closed door that reads "Senatorial Stable." No further introductions are necessary, really, and after a moment, the cameraman pushes the door open, enters the room, and closes the door behind him, taking a position in the corner of the room. Senator Steve Phillips is working on political business, silently behind his desk as he usually does, Fallen Souls is lying back on the couch reading a magazine, and Hunter is pacing back and forth in the middle of the room, tossing a magic 8 ball to himself. He clearly has a look of anger on his face, but the other two seem to ignore it. Hunter looks down at the ball for a second, and then back at his stablemates.

Hunter: Oh come on, say something!

Both of them look at him, but while FSX returns to his magazine, the Senator continues to look at him.

The Senator: What, precisely, do you want us to say?

Hunter: I don't know...come on, in less than two weeks we went from a group of six---

FSX: Seven if you count the lesbi---

Hunter: SIX. We went from that to a group of three.

Senator: Perhaps, to put it bluntly, it is because you could not stop bickering with myself and Snake, and they were fed up with---

Hunter: No no, I inspired them to stay.

FSX: Nice job with that, by the way.

Hunter: Tha---fuck you.

FSX chuckles to himself, still not looking up from the magazine.

Hunter: I'm just worried that we get severely fucked because of this, and that the Stable goes nowhere and implodes.

Senator: That is not going to happen. Not as long as I can stand, not as long as we have the willpower to keep this thing together. Us three are still a formidable unit on our own, although I am hardly arguing against bolstering the numbers.

Hunter: Oh yeah? Let's see if you're right.

He looks down at the magic 8 ball.

Hunter: Is the Senatorial Stable ever going to reclaim its former glory and defeat the untrue falses of ACW?

He shakes the ball and waits for it to give him a reply.

Hunter: "Concentrate and ask again."

He stares at it for a second, and then angrily throws it through the nearby window. The Senator looks at the gaping hole in the window, and then looks back at Hunter with a dull glare.

Hunter: ...I'll pay for that.

Senator: You want the truth, well, here goes: we ARE better off without all the excess. Yes, it may have hurt, but you know what? Life in general tends to do that! You have to fall down to get back up, and for a long while there, we were on one knee, and were unfortunately comfortable there! No, we needed that last push to renew our ranks, and do it the right way. In a way, we should thank the departed numbers, for they very well may have been the true catalyst for our renewal.

Hunter: Meh. I still think they need to burn in hell.

FSX: Perhaps it doesn't need to be hell.

Hunter: Hmm...are you thinking what I'm thinking?

A sadistic smile slowly forms on both Hunter and Fallen's faces as they take a look at each other, before Senator simply shakes his head.

Senator: No. Not after the last time.

They both seem to sigh as Fallen returns to his magazine, before mumbling something a bit to himself, though clearly audible to the other members of the now-fabulous trio.

FSX: Maybe we should just look for new members then...

The other two look at him oddly, as this is the first time he's been incredibly vocal today. He puts down the magazine and stands up, attempting to hype himself up for a speech of sorts, or perhaps resemble a dead president.

FSX: We can't always just wait for results, after all! Scott and Snake clearly just got big heads and felt important when they were in our presence, but maybe we could train someone else to take their place. You know, someone who actually listens. Kind of like teaching a dog obedience, except with a person.

Hunter: Well, it's worth a tr---

FSX: Though it could be a dog. I mean, it'd be more loyal and all...and we could sic it on our enemies! Steve, can we get a dog?

The Senator simply shakes his head again, as Fallen sulks down in disappointment.

FSX: Aww mannn...well, can my mongoose join up?

Hunter: NO!!!

FSX: Hmm...well, how about just a new member then?

Senator: Well...not a bad idea...too bad you are just a bit late on that brilliant conclusion.

Hunter: ...and how do you propose we do this, anyway?

FSX: Well...we could hold try-outs. Maybe we could like, run commercials or something. "Feeling down? Out of shape? Need something brighter in your life? The Senatorial Stable has all the answers you need, and more! For the simple fee of $48,000 dollars, you could join up too!"

Hunter: ...right...

FSX: Sure! Come on, we can all ask them random questions and choose whoever we like the most! We could make it into some kind of fancy reality show, too! With generic characters, and easy sex!

Senator: I like it, other than the "reality" show part. We are already responsible enough for the degradation of popular culture. The tryouts, however, should bring in people who wish to be a part.

The two of them look at Hunter, who hangs his head slightly and sighs.

Hunter: Knock yourselves out.

Senator: Good. We should post it on the board next to the card.

FSX: I can handle that! I needed to head over their anyway, to write in a hilarious match between Hunter and Richard Simmons.

Hunter: Wait, wha---

But before Hunter could even react, FSX charges out of the room, clearly excited about his own prospects.

Hunter: What about the leadership position?

Senator: What about it?

Hunter: ...who's the goddamn leader!?

Senator: Enough of that! We should put that on hold for the time being. None of us would have much to lead at this point, anyway.

Hunter: But---

The Senator sits back down and resumes his paperwork as Hunter looks at him for a moment, and then back at the door. He sighs and walks over to the window that now has a gaping hole in its bottom. He looks through the hole at the broken magic 8 ball and squirms. For all he knows, though, this may very well be the thing that will most raise his spirits...

Fade Out

Segment: Wyvern = Appalachian State (Credit: Stark / Wyvern)

It's amazing how underrated a world champion can be, but with such a fickle and borderline retarded fanbase that the ACW has, isn't it fitting? The scene fades in with Wyvern talking with his "stablemate" Starkweather, in the privacy of their shiny, sparkling clean locker room...actually, it's more or less filthy, the ACW doesn't play much for custodial duties.

Wyvern: Man, I don't know about this. It's one thing to stand on top of the ACW and claim dominance, but I'm starting to get a little tired of it.

His stablemate indeed is a one Alexander Starkweather, fresh off of a short involuntary vacation until the stitches took hold and the wooziness went away from what was described as an inhuman impact by the people watching the match. He'd shrugged it off a bit faster than expected, but he was still feeling the affects when he got to the arena.

Stark: Tired? I would imagine so, you haven't had a legitimate threat to your title reign yet aside from a few misguided muscleheads and the occasional bout with a misguided hooligan here and there.

Wyvern: I know, I know…It’s more or less just becoming an annoyance holding this title. It’s like the entire population of the world with an IQ of 75 or less are chucking rocks at me all at once. Seriously, I doubt there’s anyone left to challenge for this that would make it worthwhile.

Stark: There's always someone waiting in the wings waiting for you to show them your blind spot, Wyvern. Dropping your guard for any reason, at any time, invites assassins from out of the woodwork to take what is yours.

Wyvern: This isn’t news. Haven’t you noticed how we’ve going through the same motions night after night for months on end now? Shit’s getting ridiculous. This title is exhausting me to no end, and I’m becoming more and more convinced that the ACW, while challenging for the title, are fresh out of anyone in my stratum of talent.

A light smile, almost patronizing but with enough of a genuine inflection to not garner any real amount of annoyance.

Stark: As I said, there is always someone waiting for your guard to drop. And just when you think there's no way you can be dethroned, the barbarians are at the gates calling for blood.

Wyvern: What do you mean about that? I’ve got everyone put away and have kept challengers at bay for months now.

Starkweather sighs, inwardly. Outwardly, he's as joyous and emotional as an Easter Island head.

Stark: There will always be someone to challenge for that title that you hold. They may get lucky, they may catch you by surprise and win by a fluke. Or, as Mrs. Laureano once said to me prior to my unfortunate head injury, there is simply someone whose purpose is to defeat you and continue the circle of life. Well... Championships in this case.

Wyvern: Whatever, this is ridiculous. WHO IN THE HELL IS ACTUALLY GOING TO POSE AS A THREAT?

The good doctor merely shrugs, stands from his seat and pats his stablemate upon the shoulder before he opens the door to head into the arena proper with a good-natured chuckle.

Wyvern: I’ve got to get some new friends…it’s like hanging out with Riddler, for Christ’s sake.

End Segment.

Segment: An End and a Beginning, Part 2 (Credit: Michael)

Our scene opens up in the cabin of an airplane. A quick perusal of the passengers reveals the usual fare: wailing infants, stuffy businessmen, wide-eyed college students turned tourists, grimy hippies with fervent hope of cheap, legal weed in foreign lands where life is not so complicated. Somewhere in the throng is none other than Nick Durden. Seated in the aisle seat, he’s seen furiously scribbling notes on a legal pad while his eyes quickly dart across a thick stack of papers spread out to the side of his tray table.

Nick bends down and pulls out a hefty tome from his backpack. He then turns his attention to the woman seated near the window. “Do you mind?” Nick asks, motioning to the empty seat between himself and the girl.

“No, of course not,” she replies, almost in a startled sort of way, as if she were surprised Nick would be talking to her.

Nick sets his book down in the empty seat, but apparently, not carefully enough as it topples down to the floor with a thunderous boom. After a resounding sigh, Nick reaches down to pick it up...at exactly the same time as the girl...and...well...

THUD!

“Ow!” exclaim the two as their heads meet.

Nick apologizes first, “Sorry...”

“No, it’s okay,” she responds as she chuckles sheepishly.

The two take some time to shake out the cobwebs. The girl takes it upon herself to break the silence. “What are you working on?”

“Oh...this is a book,” Nick explains. “A sort of travelogue thing on Europe. I’ve been planning on it for a while, but, you know, things get, uh....”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Well...that's a cool idea. It totally sounds like something I’d read,” remarks the girl, “because...you know...I can read.”

Closer inspection of the girl’s face reveals a “Oh my god, did I just say that?” type of expression painted across her face. However, Nick chuckles amusedly, so the girl responds with a timid grin.

“So...uh, how long is this flight?” Nick inquires.

“Oh...um, seventeen hours,” she replies, “...plenty of time.”

Nick turns to the camera.

Sly smirk.

An end, and a beginning.

Segment: Stan....You’re Fired (Credit: Jake Cheng)

Thursday, August 30th

*Ring*

It’s the telephone, White cordless with giant white buttons for those with bad vision.

*Ring*

It’s five o’clock. The show is going on elsewhere in the ACW arena.

*Ring*

The lights are even on in the locker room. Why doesn’t anyone pick up the phone?

**Ring**

**Click**

A reel inside the phone begins to move.

Generic Robotic-Sounding Answering Machine: You have reached the Alpha Championship Wrestling locker room of...

Jake Cheng’s Robotic Sounding Answering Machine Voice: Jake Cheng and Stan.

Generic Robotic-Sounding Answering Machine: Please leave a message at the sound of the tone.

Since when do ACW locker rooms have phones?

**Tone**

Jake: Hey Stan, it’s Jake. You’re cell phone was off so I figured I would call this number that we never use nor will ever use again. I didn’t really feel like coming to the arena today because I don’t have a match. Stan, I’ve been doing some thinking. Changes are going to have to be made. I really need to focus on my future matches if I want to have a winning record. I feel like I won’t be able to accomplish that if I am fooling around. So Stan...you’re fired. I’m sorry.

**Hang Up**

**Click**

The answering machine stopped. A bright red LED “1” flashes on a small circular screen on the phone. Rotating right, the small kitchen area of the Quadrinity’s locker room. Next to the sink, the mini-fridge is open. Connected to the sink is...Stan. His right hand is down the drain of the sink and he is frozen still, stiff as a board, at what he just heard. Tears well up in his eyes and, in a fit of rage, he furiously tugs at his arm to get it free. But to no avail. It’s no use. He is stuck.

He may even be happy where he is; he is stuck in the room he was just kicked out of for eternity. He can’t be stuck in the sink forever...

Fade Out

Segment: The segment in which Freeman looks at a tournament bracket, and thinks about everybody in the match (Eh, I'm unoriginal with segment names) Credit: Freeman

The camera fades in to Jason Freeman’s locker room. Due to wanting a place where he can go to think things over, Freeman requested to keep it in addition to the Entourage locker room. Now he sits in it, thinking over the Emperor of the Ring tournament. Things were…not…going well…the camera zooms around Freeman’s locker room, showing on the wall a huge poster…and as the camera zooms in, it is revealed to be an Emperor of the Ring tournament bracket, with a few markers by the side. Freeman walks up to it, and sighs to himself, before analyzing the competitors.

Josh the Jersey Boy: Freeman laughs to himself and takes a black marker. He begins to cross out the name. He’s already been eliminated, and he never had a chance in the first place. He had no position in this tournament, as he was just starting out, and the luck of the draw stuck him against a seasoned veteran. Too bad for him. In any case, Freeman didn’t have to give him any more thought.

Fallen Souls: On this one Freeman thinks to himself…Fallen Souls. He had been a member of the Senatorial Stable, but Freeman himself had barely talked to him. Thinking back, however, he remembers a few times where FSX had insulted him, calling him a jobber. He took the red marker, and was about to raise it to FSX’s name, but then he looked…at FSX’s next opponent. He smiled, and took the blue marker instead. He wrote next to FSX’s name…“Senator’s next victim.”

VorteX: Freeman once again took the black marker, and crossed out VorteX’s name. He wasn’t going to matter anymore. He was out, as the luck of the draw unfortunately landed him against Senator. That’s too bad for VorteX, but that’s how a random drawing works. Freeman of course, felt that he would have been able to defeat Senator…but…he didn’t have to. Yet

Senator: Ah, the Senator. Freeman takes the red marker now, and makes a big circle around his name. Freeman was hoping that he would get a chance to face him. This time, he would do anything to win. Freeman wanted to prove to him, once and for all, that he did deserve respect, and that he had come far as a wrestler. He didn’t care when, but he knew that sometime, he would get a match against Senator once again. Oh how convenient it would be, if Freeman got to do it in the tournament, and take away Senator’s shot at the title, before of course…going on to win it himself.

Ross Lambert: Freeman took the blue marker, and picked it up to write something…but he once again changes his mind. He picks up the black marker and crosses out Lambert’s name. He wasn’t worried about this at all.

Adrian Flamingo: Freeman grimaces when he reads the name…he takes up the blue marker, takes a deep breath, and writes next to him “Not going to be easy…” Freeman had defeated Flamingo once, but Freeman had to give Flamingo credit. He’d been on a role lately. After taking BK London out of the game, he had gone on to defeat Freeman one-on-one. If that happened again, Freeman was in trouble…and it looked like it was going to. Could he beat Flamingo? He knew he COULD, he’d beaten him before. But it was going to be tough. He was going to be as ready as possible. If there was one person he was afraid of stopping him, it was Flamingo…Senator would be tough too, assuming he beat FSX, but he felt that he was determined enough to beat Senator to make it happen. He had to get that same determination into him. He had to get that feeling, and use it against Flamingo. It was the only way he stood a chance.

Ricky Falcon: Freeman sighed. The Entertainment Champion. He had never faced him before, but he wasn’t too worried about what would happen if they got in the ring. But, would Falcon be able to beat Flamingo? Freeman took the blue marker and wrote next to Ricky Falcon “Last hope of Flamingo losing…” Freeman had a feeling however that he was going to have to face Flamingo in the end. Falcon was obviously a credible superstar, though his barrel roll thing was kind of strange…and maybe he would pull an upset. He HAD won a number of hard-fought Entertainment title matches at least.

Andrew Williams Freeman looked at the name and squinted his eyes…was he reading this correctly? He took the blue marker and wrote next to Williams… “…who…?”

Jay Zero: Freeman looked at this name, and glared at it for a second. Jay Zero. Freeman without even having to think, took the red marker and circled Zero’s name. He had a feeling that Yoko was going to stand the best chance in the second division, but if there was even a chance of facing Zero in the finals…Freeman really hoped it would come to be.

Jonny Hughes Once again, Freeman glares at a name. He circles Hughes’s name in marker too. He then writes next to his name in blue “The guy who cost me the Lethal Lottery Tournament…I want revenge.” Freeman wasn’t going to forget that it was Hughes that had gotten pinned in their first round match…but Hughes had a tough opponent, and Freeman wasn’t really sure who he wanted to face most…it was a tough decision…

Hunter: Freeman had to think here…who did he want to WIN this match? Hughes and him had some unfinished business…but…man…Hunter. Ever since Hunter came back from the dead, he had had nothing but insults and putdowns to throw at Freeman. He had never taken him seriously as a stable member, and probably didn’t even notice that he was gone. Freeman wanted to show him in the ring what he was capable of. He took the red marker and circled Hunter’s name as well. It was win-win here. Either way, if one of these two got to the finals, Freeman would have fun with that match.

Rena Matheson Hmm…what about her? Freeman hadn’t ever had anything to do with her before…but he didn’t see her as a threat. “Who cares?” he writes next to her name. In any case, she is facing XS3, who has proved that he can be very impressive in the ring.

XS3 Freeman didn’t really have much of an opinion on this man. Sure, they were in Entourage together, and he seemed alright, but Freeman really couldn’t say that he knew him too well. He took the blue marker and wrote next to him “Probably will beat Rena, probably won’t beat Yoko.” That’s how he saw it, anyways. Speaking of Yoko…

Yoko: Freeman looked at the name with a determination in his eyes. What better a way to solidify his legacy than to defeat somebody who hadn’t been defeated in two years. He took the red marker and circled the name. He hoped that he would get a shot at her, and even if he didn’t, he had to remember to get a chance after the tournament. Of course, Yoko could prove near impossible to beat, but every time she wins a match, the stakes get higher. You win that much more by defeating her. Even if he lost, he needed to try.

[Reserved]: Freeman looked at this name and thought. Who could it be…? He took the blue marker and wrote next to it… “…Libertines…?”

Freeman stepped back and looked at the whole chart. It wasn’t going to be an easy road to the title shot, but he was going to do it. He was prepared. He looked at his path again. He nodded his head, his face fixed in a determined glare. It was time to start preparing to put in the effort he had ever put in in his career.

Match 2: Jason Freeman vs Ross Lambert – EOTR Round 1 (Credit: Hunter)

And we're not off! That's right, I tricked you. Nothing could have prepared you for that one, eh? What if I were to say that there is no match? That I, through my awesome higher power skills, have canceled it? Or maybe (since that's a bit unrealistic) a nuclear bomb went off in the arena, killing both Lambert and Freeman before they even got to the ring, but miraculously saving everyone else. However, this nuclear bomb releases a rare, almost futuristic chemical, wherein those within its range have their minds fucked with so that they believe something that never happened. Oddly enough, it works on everyone, and everyone thinks that they just saw a hell of a match, and that it was a draw, and that now Senator/FSX is a semi-finals match. Everyone is also convinced that two aliens walking around are the real Lambert and Freeman, thereby there is never an actual funeral held so that no one can ever figure out what really happened. Or maybe not. Either way, I now only have to write a two paragraph match.

BAM! BAM! BAM! Freeman throws out those punches like they were baseballs, and each one nails Lambert as if he were...something that gets hit by baseballs. This match has gone on for a staggering ten minutes, and both men have exhausted almost their entire arsenals, so it's no surprise that it takes Lambert a few moments to let the hits sink in before finally powering out of the strikes and nailing Freeman with an implant DDT. He then lifts him back up and tries for the Crippling Losses, but Freeman headbutts him, pushes him back, and nails him with a mule kick. He then grabs him and locks him into the cobra clutch crossface hold, mercilessly pulling at Lambert, keeping him away from the ropes. Eventually, however, Lambert has enough power to lift him up and slam him hard on his back, covering him for an unsuccessful pinfall.

Following what may likely have been the fiftieth pinfall in this epic, grueling match (sure to become legendary, I may unbiasly add), the two men rose and their eyes met, and there was a moment of understanding before they launched at each other, with Lambert getting the upper hand via the Silence of the Lambs. He does not try for the pinfall, and instead nails the Sinners Deal. He would cover Freeman, but Freeman recoils so strongly from the attack that he simply hops back up to his feet, clutching his neck. As Lambert turns to him, Freeman suddenly drops the act and nails him with the Glory Driver. He covers, but Lambert JUST kicks out seconds before...wait...well, you know what I mean. Either way, both men slowly get to their feet, and after blocking a clothesline, Lambert lifts Freeman up for the K-Pax I mean XG-K9...but Freeman spins out of it, kicks Lambert in the gut, and nails him with a vicious Journey's End for the final pinfall, thus advancing in the tournament!