The lights fade up into a room clouded by mist. A constant sizzle of steam is frequently punctuated by hisses of vapour and the giggle of some girls evidently enjoying themselves.
“Velcome, do come een,” a deep, husky voice rumbles, coaxing the camera forward. The view zooms in, mist parting willingly to reveal a large bronzed gentlemen wearing a towel and holding a ladle. Either side of him sits a buxom blond, with their hands stroking his enormous pectoral muscles. At his feet sits a large St. Bernard dog with a small wooden barrel around its neck. He leans to the side and tips the liquid contents of the ladle over a small furnace. He lets out a masculine and somewhat Scandinavian sigh as the water evaporates in response. “Don’t be a stranger. Vott ees your name?”
“Sparrow”
“Hello, I am Ralph, ‘The Ice’ Burgesson.” He gestures to the dog. “And this ees Frostbite. So Sparrow, vot brings you into my sauna?”
“Actually, the boss told me to come and talk to you. He said you had some big news for the ASWF fans.”
“That’s right, but first let me tell you something.”
“Um…”
“Next time you come into my sauna you vair a towel. The thought of you sweating in jeans makes me nauseous.”
“Uh…”
“That’s right. Free advice; it von’t come often. Anyway, I am getting away from myself. I am here to tell you that from this day forvard the ASWF vill not be the same”
“Um… How’s that?”
“Because I am here to bring on a new Ice Age. I vill conquest the others. I vill put them on Ice, so to speak.” He reaches down and scruffs up Frostbite’s neck. The dog’s tongue falls out and he begins to pant. “Although logic suggests that I should start at the top, like vhen drying myself after I get out of the sauna, I intend to start at the bottom, viss anyvne who's interested. Anyone think they're pretty cool? Eh, everybody. Guess what? I’m not cool. I’m frozen.”

With the first ever ASWF PPV on the horizon, the final show of the month is certain to set up some exciting clashes.

After Sir Quincy Penfold's injury- it will be Senor Ding Dong vs. The Baron for a shot at SQPIII's title.

MrCharisma demands a rematch against Shadta for the Hardcore Title!!

Ralph 'The Ice' Burgesson clashes with Colossus in both wrestlers' ASWF debuts!

The Randy Man to clash with Chopstick and Tonto in a Handicap match, with the winner taking the ASWF Tag Titles!

ASWF Wrestler Colosus together with his bitches assemble a press conference in response to Ralph Ice’ Burgessons' open challenge

Colosus: Good evening gentlemen and all the fine ladies out there, (Colosus puts him arm around his bitches). I join you all here tonight to issue a challenge to Mr Freeze, Ralph Ice’ Burgessons whatever he calls himself. I am doing this because I admire his work, in the movie Batman and Robin. Sure you couldn't understand a word he said, and he pretty much single handidly destroyed any chance of annother Batman movie but still you have to admire that. I will welcome Mr Freeze into the ASWF by pounding that cold arse into the ground, and thus this iceberg will melt. Any questions?

Pete: Hello Pete Watson ASWF Weekly, how do plan to prepare for this match

Colosus: To prepare for a match like this you have got to know your enemy and get in his mindset, that is why I am going to train in Antarctica. I have got to be completely shut off from the world and just focus on my enemy, that is why I am only taking just food, water, clothes, my trainer Jose Quincarez and my lovely ladies. Anymore questions

George: Hello, George Jones ASWF Channel how do you respond to your critics saying that you're a never was and think that you should quit

Colosus: (laughs) Those scrawney little fleabags don't understand that I'm just starting out. I am getting better and better and currently I am at my peak fitness level and am ready to give Mr Freeze a good hard initiation into the ASWF

It's middle of the night at ASWF: Live where we find midgets: Al Mukta and Hairy Feet McCray battling it out, when suddenly MrCharisma runs out from backstage and cleans both midget out with a folded chair

MrCharisma: Hey Shitta! I want a rematch to my Hardcore title at the PPV, no ifs and no buts. We all know I was screwed out of it, the fans have told me I was screwed, the commentators have told me I was screwed, hell right after the match your Mum told me... but then again later that night so was she, if you catch my drift. This time we'll take it inside a cage where you can't run from the almight power known as MrCharisma.

Now hit my music!

haha u want to hear you get counted 1.........2..............3. again.

i have never heard that yet in my carrer in this organisation.

time to put you back where you belong u stinking heel, at the bottom of my foot

Into the spot light smoke appears covering a cloaked figure that emerges through the fog.

El se·ñor Ding Dong: I demand a rematch for the ASWF title and to regain my honour mono e mon with that cheat Sir Quincy Penfold III. I swear this time you will be thwarted you monstrosity.

Out the front of Chopsticks dressing room door there is a short fat figure covered by a large sombrero.

'KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK'

(Chopstick answers door)

Chopstick: Ahh please come in my mexican friend. We have much to discuss.

(Shaded man enters and the door closes)

*The Arena Goes Pitch Black. All of a sudden a slight fog starts to find its way throughout the space and then as the pink lights rise comes the ths Pink Panther Music, Randy Man struts his way to the arena*

"Hello Ladies and Even more Ladies, I am here tonight to challenge that bum Sir Queery Bum Fellow, for a shot at the ASWF Title, I am an excellent specimen of human being and I should by right get a shot at this legendary prize to ascend my name up there with the gods. I'll be the god of pleasuring the ladies, but also the god of pain for anyone who steps in my way."

"So I await your response Sir Quaint Little Fellow, will you duel it out with the Randy Man, or will you run like the noy you are?"

*sigh*
So how does your feeble brain establish a link between losing matches and getting world title shots? Please explain this to me. I emphatically belittled Shazta who in turn embarassed you. As an expert on the food chain and social ordering, i would suggest this puts you down there with the slug or some other unconvincing herbivore. Come back when you've won something Mr Slug, and i don't mean the vegetable pack in some greasy fair raffle.
SQP3-

Colosus. I think you're mistaking me for my cousin the Govenor of California. About your match proposal. It'd be 'Ice' to meet you one on one to begin with. Then I can watch as Helga here beats seven colours of crap outta you as well.

Thats it you arrogant bitch I'm gonna kick your ass good. I already have a title the Tag Team Title. Me and mr Huge Hefner hold the illustrious rank. What you are my dear friend is a pretend to know it all tight ass, who needs to be taught a lesson. I will not only beat the living shit out of your snot brain, but I will also teach you a lesson in family relations when I bang your mum right infront of your eyes. I will head into the Paper view as the ASWF world champion and I will leave you in hospital. You will finally see what its like to be at the bottom of the food chain...

*sigh*
Why would my beloved mumsy want to fraternise with you? Since the unfortunate death of Sir Qunicy Penfold the Second at the gentlemens club below Mount Everest in 99, my mother has been veritably swept over by a sea of suitors ranging from Earls, lords and even the occasional lowly prime minister. Believe me, you have no hopes in holding sexual congress with my Mumsy. As for your so called prestige in holding the world tag titles, i can imagine its not difficult to hold a title you never defend. I therefore declare you unworthy of a title shot for the indefinite future. Now, don't be so bothersome Mr Slug.
SQP3-

Card updated

El se·ñor Ding Dong: Answer me scoundrel!!! Or beware my wrath.

Yo Ding Dong, I challenge you to a match you ethnic slug. Whoever wins gets a shot at Sir Queezy Pisshead's title. He wants me to prove I have it to match him I'll show him by destroying the only challenger to his throne. As for you Sir Quiant Package, you will meet me someday in the ring and it will be I who is victorious, I will smash you into the next universe. I am going to be the next ASWF Champion cause what the Randy Man wants the Randy Man gets and as the saying goes.....Cause The Randy Man Can.

(Chopstick and several gorgeous ladies appear at the arena entrance and as they walk towards ringside you can leave your hat on plays, Chopstick slowly strips as he approaches the ring. When he gets there all he is wearing is a pair of boxers)

Chopstick (in hillbilly accent): Well lookee what weve got here then. several gorgeous ladies and all of them here for me. But wait somethings wrong. This isnt my scene. Im not one of these dime a dozen wrestlers who need hot sluts to gather the attention of the fourteen year old boys who's usual girlfriends look much like this (Chopstick holds his palm up). No thats not me. These girls are all sluts and prostitutes. Sorry ladies your here under false pretenses. Im not one of those who pays for this type of thing. My name is not Randy man i am Chopstick and i have honour. Hurry along Randy will be here soon.

(the girsl begin to argue and look genuinely pissed off a split screen image forms)

Chopstick: Well now that ive got everyones attention id like to challenge Randy and Hefner for the tag titles. My partner is right over there near the hookers. Senor Ding Dong and Tonto are seen in the crowd)

In the crowd watching Chop Stick.

Tonto: All those women are just prostitutes and whores i new that only girls like that would be seen with Randy man

El se·ñor Ding Dong: Tonto how do you know those women were prostitutes and whores.

Tonto: Um yeah,....

(Two of the girls walk past in a very slutty way)

The two prostitutes: Hi tonto will we see you at your usual time tonight.

(Tonto goes red)

The Pink Panther Music begins and Randy Man makes his way to the top of the stage carrying his belt and a microphone.

"Now Ladies don't listen to that chopstick loser, he's just a fag, truth be told he probably has nothing but a chopstick downstairs. Join me in my tent latter and I'll turn you girls all into little Randy Women."The Girls wander off giggling in anticipation.
"Now you chopstick you little worm, I would accept your title call but for one thing, my partner Huge Hefner has seemed to disapear off the face of the Earth. But tell you what seeing as you boys both seem to be competitive fellows, I will challenge both of you to a handicap match, that is unless I find a partner by then. And if I win I want that title shot that I am after. Afterall I would have beatan two guys in one go, and that is definately no#q contender material"

The Randy Man struts off stage singing the Randy Man Can. Will he find Huge? Or who will his replacement be? Or will he fight both in a certain lost cause?...

*Yawn*
Mr Slug. I admit that i have high displeasure in minority teamings. If you put your tag titles on the line and somehow defeat these two misbreeds then i will lower the bar quite substantially and grant you your shot at the pay per view.
SQP3-

(El se·ñor Ding Dong in front of the camera man in histerics waving his fists in the air)

El se·ñor Ding Dong: Ethnic slug, i thought it was you who answered to the name slug mr randy man, slug in bed, slug in the ring. As soon as i sort out Sir Quincey Penfold the 3rd your next Mr lewd, libidinous, licentious man. Ill beat you to a pulp and then feed you to my devotees Isabel and Tonto

*The Randy Man stands backstage after hearing Ding Dongs threats*

Randy Man: Yeah Yeah Yeah Ding Dumb you can talk all you want, but when you get in the ring with the Randy Man you will not walk the walk infact I will see that you are carried out of the arena in a stretcher my friend

*At that point one of the crew walks up with a letter*

Crewman: Mr Man I have a letter here from Mr Reg Regan sir. He wishes to talk to you.

Randy Man: That dick, tell him I am through with that loser. I was nothing when I was with him. I held no belts and all he did was try and steal my lime light. Tell him from the Randy Man that Brandell is dead and buried. And as for you Ding Dick I'll see you and Chopstick soon, watch out cause I'm all Randied Up Biatch!!

<A warehouse, starkly lit inside and out with that yellowish mercury vapour lighting you see on freeways>

...a man sits at a weight machine, pumping iron - 220 kilos up and down, up and down, like a well-oiled machine. After double sets of reps on both arms and legs, he steps into the wrestling ring, where two soldiers are restraining a Taliban prisoner. Four other soldiers stood at attention on each side of the ring, M-16's at the ready.

"Baron, this man will not talk," one of the soldiers holding the prisoner reported.

"All right, then," the baron replied, "release him..."

The soldiers comply, and step out of the ring. The prisoner tries to follow, but the baron grips him into a full nelson, then squeezes him harder and harder, as the prisoner struggles helplessly. Releasing him, the baron flings the Taleban into the ropes - and spears him on the rebound. Then he motions - and a soldier brings a dead Rottweiler into the ring. Whilst the soldier restrains the Taleban man so he can't avert his eyes, the baron looks into his prisoner's eyes, and demands, "Where is Osama?"

Taking a broadsword, he chops off the head of the dead Rottweiler. Grasping the top of the dog's head in his right hand, he applies pressure. In a moment, the skull cracks, and the dead dog's brains drip onto the mat.

The baron now places his right hand on the prisoner's face, gently at first. "Where is Osama?" he quietly asks. When the prisoner does not reply, he begins to apply pressure slowly. "For the last time, where is Osama?"

Applying more pressure slowly, the baron gazes into the prisoner's eyes. Soon, he elicits a scream from his victim. "Where is Osama?" he asks once more, adding more pressure.

"All right!!!" the prisoner wails. "Osama is...."

"Go and check it out," the baron orders, putting the prisoner into a figure four leglock. "Take your time - we're not going anywhere..."

Janet Reno steps into the ring, with a checklist of questions. Needless to say, by the time the information was confirmed four hours later, they were all answered...

...

...

An hour later, Baron von Crascjke is on the arena concourse, drinking a Leinenkugel's. Casually tossing one to the ASWL commish, and another to ASRL President Chris Walker-Bush, he plays the bit of the tape where he crushes the Rottweiler. "All right, then," he asked, "when can I bash some heads in?"

El se·ñor Ding Dong:Hey Randy Man!!There is no need for your lewdness, vulgarity is an unnescesary habit of the stupid. Get with the program im not spending my precious time on a pathetic waste of space like you while i can wrestle my nemesis Sir Quincey Penfold the third, wake up imbecile.

Midway through ASWF:Live after a match between Harry Hustler and Sara the Wookie, MrCharisma music hits as he struts into the ring.

MrCharisma: Ladies and Gentlemen. As you rural might know, MrCharisma, your champion will be taking on Shitta for MY Hardcore title. As you might know, I'm an honest and fair man, kinda like a New Age Sensative Guy. Because of this, I'm here to show respect to my opponent: Shitta

MrCharisma pauses for a moment while the house lights come mid-way down. Blow My Whistle plays over the loud speaker while MrCharisma proceeds to perform what is meant to be the Haka

The Cheif: How disrespectful
Rodney: Hahaha, that's it MrC! Stick it too those sheep rooters...

Obviously enough was enough, while MrCharisma was performing, Shadta come running from backstage into the ring. MrCharisma bolts backstage as Shadta gets in the ring, and he too then chases.

They continue through many halls and room, busting into Chopstick meditating, The Randy Man just coming out of the shower without a towel and Senor Ding Dong eating a tacco.

MrCharisma definately has the speed on Shadta and able to out run him, unfortunately he has been blocked off in a room at the end of the hall. Shadta open the door to find a dark and musty room with plenty of pillars.

Shadta sees a glimmer of MrC's gold chain and has a rough idea where he is. All of a sudden the lights flick up to see MrCharisma holding what seems to be an expensive and rather tasty birthday cake with candles

MrCharisma: Suprise! Happy Birthday!!!

Shadta is shocked to see someone remembered his birthday. MrCharisma has a table set out with chips, soft drinks and fairy bread. Shatda is given a knife to cut the cake. As he is doing that, MrCharisma grabs a chair which was leaning behind one of the pillars and belts it across the back of Shatda's head, with Shadta falling face first into the cake. MrCharisma then proceeds to beat the crap out of him, then leaves the room and locks the door.

*sigh*
Folly, absolute folly!! I want one good reason why i should be wrestling anyone on Monday night?? This schedule insisted on by that Bush fellow is atrocious! Does he think i'm some kind of wrestling machine that can wrestle more then once a month? How i miss the days of old where the grand champion only had to put the belt up once every 90 days. I've already beaten Mr Ding Dong. Him and that bag of potatos called Jelly. I've embarrassed Shadta beyonf belief and i also dismantled that ridiculous Maunder chap! I implore you, Mr Walker-Bush, that you acknowledge your complete lack of wisdom and mouth cleaning utensils and renig on this ridiculous declaration of a match. I can assure you that your complimentation of my demands will be profitable.....
SQP3-

<Backstage at the arena> Sir Quincy Penfold III was pouring some 30 year old cognac into a crystal snifter, satisfied that he had properly dealt with the impudent Chris Walker-Bush, when his mobile sounded.

Sighing, he answered, "Sir Penfold - genuflect when addressing me..."

"This is Gene Okerlund, BBC Sport..."

"What does that unworthy bunch of laggards want?"

"We're doing a worldwide story on how you're too much of a lazy coward to defend your title, and believe that you're too good for the ASWL..."

"Coward? How dare you make this specious accusation against the best wrestler the world has ever seen?"

"Are you willing to accept a challenge from someone whom you haven't wrestled yet, coward? Dat is all da people need to know!"

The connection ends. SQP3 walks toward the car park, to his limo, when something bashes into his head, knocking him colder than a floundered flounder.

----

----

"Poor Sir Penfold," his personal nurse remarked to the ASWL doctor. "What happened?"

"I believe he was challenged in the appropriate manner," he replied.

"Who dared challenge him?"

"Well, do you know anyone who wears a WWI German Army helmet, and recently handled dog brains..."

Its the opening of the ASWF's fourth show. The strains of God Save the Queen come on to the speakers. The crowd begins to boo. Instead of the world champion coming out, a man dressed in doctors robe with a thremomoscope around his neck comes out.

Doctor: Good evening ladies and gentlemen. My name is Theopolis Winegrass. I am the head doctor of Sir Penfolds personal staff. I come bearing sad sad news. (Doctor looks sad). Due to injurys suffered in a recent sneak attack i have strongly advised the champion that he in no way can wrestle tonight. Hes suffered massive vernacular bruising and i suspect his spine has been displaced. If i had my way, the master would not even be hear tonight.

(Sir Quincy comes out in a wheel chair wearing a robe and bandages around his head. He looks very weak. He has an oxygen machine attached to his face. The doctor takes off the mask. Sir Penfold tries to stand but falls back into his chair)

SQP3:(wails) Oh to be able to use my arms and legs!! Doctor Winegrass, please wheel me to the ring so i can defend my beloved title tonight!! I must take my revenge on that teacherous baron! I can not let this dastardly deed doer go unpunished!!

Doctor:That is an impossibility sir!! You should be in hospital!!

SQP3:CEO Walker - Bush. I implore you to cancel my match tonight!! For the love of corgis, POSTPONE thy match! You must suspend this maniacal soldier! I'm not a chartity Bush!! I pay you for a reason. Now get off your ass and write some pink slips!! People don't care about Ding Dong or Tonto getting there rematch. Its pointless anyway!! Owwww, my vernacular bruising is componding again. Wheel me back to my dressing room, Winegrass, promptly.

<The video screen flickers, the house lights dim, and the strains of "Ride of the Valkyries" fill the arena. On screen, fade in a medium shot of a man, wearing a WWI German Army brigadiers' uniform blouse, the Iron Cross prominently displayed. His close cropped hair and walrus mustache said, "the Vikings were wimps!" far more clearly than any tee could ever say. His brown eyes glowered straight into the camera."

"Well, Sir Penfold - I see that your cowardice has risen to the fore once more," the man intoned quietly, as the music faded out. "I am Baron Erich von Crascjke, Lord of Thuringen..."

Sir Penfold glared at the video screen, but said nothing - his angry countenance said it all...

"...and I am as accustomed to the finer things of life as you are," von Crascjke continued, pouring a snifter of Grand Marnier, and inhaling the precious vapours. "But I see your cowardice is developed from a lack of discipline - have you ever spent a year or more away from home, forced to eat only emergency banquet rations and drink only light beer - that is, when we weren't compelled to eat tinned beans and drink rainwater - all the while under the constant attack of the Royal Artillery?"

"And as for your injury, I can see you are as unfit physically as you are mentally, as I only hit you once..."

"I can see that you have no concept of duty - a defence of your title every week is hardly too much to expect. To impugn wrestlers that you have beaten is one thing. To impugn the entire concept of wrestling - of which the first principle that a true champion defends his title irregardless of how unfair it seems at the time - should be beneath you."

After sipping some brandy, von Crascjke continued, "But, I can see that your cowardice is exceeded only by your avarice, Sir Penfold. I expected far more from you - and so do the ghosts of wrestling past, and so do the most important people in wrestling - the fans who make it possible for you to live in the lap of luxury."

"So, Sir Penfold, since you are unwilling to defend your title against someone whom you have beaten before, how about defending your title against someone whom you haven't beaten before? Dat is all da people need to know!"

The screen fades to black...

The lights go out three quick flashes of blue light like lighting appear.
In the middle of the ring is a dark figure with a gold helmet holding a silver object. The lights go back on. the figure speaks

El se·ñor Ding Dong:Baron Erich von Crascjke, Lord of Thuringen what protocol have you been brought up with wait your turn, you have not even had a match yet and your think your a worthy challenger. He might be scared from the last match but its his duty to fight me. If Sir Penfold can not fight because of your thuggery I demand i fight you to see who challenges the tittle holder.

The lights disapear and so does El se·ñor Ding Dong.

Backstage The Randy Man is watching T.V with two of his lovely supporters he calls them B1 and B2.

Randy Man:What! Who does this Ping Pong punk think he is? And the Eric Von Lickmyass poofter wowsers I'm going to hit someone on the head while their back is turned!!!
I am sorry if you guys have missed the backstory. But this week I take on the pathetic Chopstick and the loser Tonto, when I am victorious I will then get my shot at the World Champion. It's that simple. Don't you little freaks go screwing me out of my chance.

B1: But Randy I thought the German one looked kinda cute
B2:Yeah with his tough accent and bulging.......muscles. *two girls begin to laugh*

Randy Man:Look Look ladies all that Jagermiester is, is a poor excuse for an international stereotype. When Walker Bush realises he isn't working he'll kick his ass out on the ground. I could kick his ass all over the ring without lifting my *looks downstairs* I will dispose of them after I get my title shot, after this week when I show the whole world.....THAT THE RANDY MAN CAN.

(scene opens to a gigantic table laden with the most expensive delicacies imaginable. Chopstick and Gary Coleman enter the room)

Coleman: Hey Chopstick this is quite some spread youve got on here, you having a party or something?

Chopstick: No Gary our little mexican friend is dropping by to talk about these tag titles were collecting at the next show.

Coleman: But if its just those two coming why the whole tableful.

Chopstick: Have you ever tried to feed Tonto Gary?

Coleman: Hahahaha youll need a bigger table. But anyway whats to discuss, you two will go beat Randy in the ring and use it as a platform to take over the ASWF.

Chopstick: Ahh but you see Senor Ding Dong has grave misgivings about this partnership.

Gary: Why should he worry its not like senor Ding Dong will have anything to .

Chopstick: Ahh but we cant say too much right now, before we win the titles we have only to worry about that. Its after the match we must make plans for. (Knocking is heard at the door) Ahh that will be our little friend now.

(scene cuts as Chopstick unplugs the camera)

<Backstage at the arena: El se·ñor Ding Dong is drinking a very large margarita, sharing a joke with Isabel and Tonto. A knock at the door - "La Mancha Burritos..." Tonto opens the door - Baron von Crascjke carries in a huge platter of tacos, burritos, and fajitas, which he set on the table in front of them...>

"My apologies, Señor - but I think your command of English was not sufficient to understand what I was saying before to that bastard Penfold...." von Crascjke began, pulling out a large bottle of tequila, proffering it to El se·ñor Ding Dong.

"Go on..." he replied, relaxed yet wary - was the Baron crazy enough to take on three to one odds?

von Crascjke began, "What I was trying to tell him was that he should not have objected to your challenge to him - he should have gotten on with it, and either beaten you, or been beaten by you..."

"I see," said El se·ñor Ding Dong, pouring a margarita for von Crascjke. "What about the fact that we have to fight to see who faces that queer Penfold?"

Sipping his margarita, von Crascjke smiled, "You mix a damned good margarita - gracias! As for the fact that we have to fight to get to Penfold, a man we both hate with a passion, I can't help that - if you listened to what I said, I told Penfold "if you won't defend your title against someone whom you have beaten before..." - the choice was his..."

"But, the coward that we both know he is, Penfold wouldn't make a decision quick enough, and the ASWL management saw fit to schedule us first. For that, I am sorry - but you have to admit that our match would be the top match of any card, and will improve your already high Q-ratings to unimaginable levels. And this will keep the management and the television people, as well as the audience, really happy..."

"So," El se·ñor Ding Dong replied, "we're stuck with this?"

"No offence, El se·ñor Ding Dong," von Crascjke replied, "for although I have nothing against you, I really want to pound Penfold into a bloody pulp. If you happen to beat me, and beat Penfold, that's fine by me."

Gulping the last of his margarita, von Crascjke added, "But if you want to get to him, I will not lay down for you - Isabel, maybe, but not you. But I can promise you this - if I do get that bastard Penfold, I won't duck you - if I can arrange it, you get the first shot against me. Fair enough?"

von Crascjke strode out of El se·ñor Ding Dong's room, gently closing the door behind him...

Sir Quincy Penfold the Third is sitting in a lush Victorian style bedroom on a double king size bed. he has a bandage around his head and chest. He is drinking ice coffee through a straw. Doctor Winegrass is sitting nearby reading a paper. Suddenly a stately looking lady driving into the room on a bmw wheelchair. Sir Quincy pretends to be asleep.

SQP3- zzzzzzzzzz-

Mumsy: Oh my poor baby boy!! What has that big mean baron done to you? I heard all about it at church this morning. The congregation was up in arms over this beefy expansionalist. Why did he attack you, my brave little soldier?

SQP3- ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Mumsy: Doctor Winegrass! I think hes in a coma. He doesn't seem to respond to his dear mothers own voice! Maybe a wake up mumsy smooch will bring him back-

SQP3- zz- ah mumsy? is that you? I'm having trouble seeing straight.

Mumsy: You poor dear boy! Well, that scally wag associate rang up of yours, Walker-Shoosh or whatever it is, rang up not a few moment ago. Didn't say much, sounded a wreck. Just said "it was done". Poor boy. Sounded rather malnourished.

SQP3's eyes light up.

SQP3- Well that just means my match has been indefinitely delayed so as to teach that ginormous reptillian that noone dictates who and when SQP3 wrestles. Ah, i mean OUCH! The pain the pain the horrible pain. Did he happen to mention a suspension at all??

Mumsy- Well HE didn't say anything else, but after i talked to him i got a message on my hip computer from Mable and she said that theres been a change of plans for the ppv....

SQP3- Of course. Everyones realised that i am unbeatable and i will be merely holding court in a very stately nearby hotel.

Mumsy- Even better darling! You are now scheduled to fight the winner of Senor Ding Dong and the mischevious baron as well as taking on the Randy Man if he can defeat the team of Chopstick and the Mexican.

SQP3- WHAT!??? They can't do this to me! I'm the loveable rich guy with a penchant for heroism! GAHHH!!!!

Mumsy- Toodooloo my darling. I'm off for brunch with a mysterious new suitor i recently met in the strangest way.

SQP3 - Winegrass, bring me my phone......

Randy Man is sitting poolside reading a newspaper...

Randy Man: Oh there's nothing like sitting outside, on a lovely Sunday Morning just before I retain the titles. It's a shame Huge had to leave. I'm really going to have to find another partner sometime. Hmm whats this in the personals, stupid ugly mexican wrestler seeks big German man for kinky butt love fun? Man some people are just freaky.

Butler: Mr. Man your date has arrived shall I show her to the bedroom?

Randy Man: No Giles just send her out here, I feel like a bit of outdoor play today.

Sir Quincy Penfolds Mum comes up to Randy Man and sits on his lap and proceeds to kiss him up and down.

Randy Man: Who would have thought that going to church could bring an astounding abundance of Tang! Well Mrs. Penfold, lets get you out of those clothes and onto a big hot stick. Sorry peeps this is only for those people with the Randy Man web cam, Click on the site to see that THE RANDY MAN CAN!
Camera drops out as he begins to take down her blouse.

Loving it guys. I'll get the next lot of results out tonight.

Chris Walker-Bush strolls out to the ring shortly after Avatar defeated Da Illest in a dark match. Once the inevitable cheering dies down, he gets on the stick and addresses the entire ASWF.

"As you all know, there's been a lot of debate about who wrestles who at next weekend's 'Bloodied and Broken' Pay-Per-View in Sydney. We've got Senor Ding-Dong demanding a rematch against Sir Quincy Penfold III. We've got The Randy Man saying he's the #1 contender, and now the Baron is demanding he lose his 'cherry' in a World Title match.'

He pauses for effect

"I'm out here to put an end to all of the rumours and speculation. Here's how it's going to play out in Sydney. The winner of tonight's match between Senor Ding Dong and Baron Erich von Crazcke will progress on wrestle Sir Quincy Penfold III for the title. Then, should Randy Man win his handicap match against Chopstick and Tonto, he will progress to the title match as well. If he doesn't, it'll be a straight singles match for the World Title- otherwise it will be a three way steel cage match!"

The crowd goes absolutely wild as Chris Walker-Bush plays to their attentions and then heads backstage.

In Sir Quincy Penfold the thirds bedroom while he's pretending to sleep a dark figure places a gift basket of fruit, the finest Belgian chocolates and French champagne. On top of this monsterous basket is a card.

(Dear Sir Quincy Penfold the third

The ASWF is a shambles with out you that Randy Man character has came out of his hole and is getting frighteningly anoying especialy calling me a Mexican if he new his history he would know that in the Barcelona Olympics I represented Spain in the Equestrian and fencing.
I know we have not got of the best of starts but if you could get better soon would be great so if by chance that disgusting little twerp beats my companion Tonto and his Asian friend it would be beter for both of us to be at our best so we can destroy him then feed him to my minions. I hope you enjoy this hamper as a get well gift it took a lot of energy to keep this a way from Tonto.
We may be enemies in the ring but we have to allie if we wont to keep the un educated, villians out.

Get well soon Amigo

El se·ñor Ding Dong)

After the basket is put down the figure slips out the window and there is a cry 'High ho Isabel'.

Randy Man watching vision of Senor Ding Dong dropping the fruitbasket into SPQ

Randy Man: It seems as everyone is against me. I cannot let this go on I know where I can get help. If I have any trouble from now on, I'm sure I'll be alright. Giles get my Phone!!!

Giles grabs his phone.

Randy Man: Yes operator I'd like the Redfern Pub, hey is he there....Hey what ya doing..look I'm really sorry... I need your help...Yeah but that was before.. This is now...Look are you going to help me or not...MAYBE is that all...Well shove your maybe bitch!

Randy Man slams the phone down and the camera fades out, his face seems to have a nice glaze of worry attached to it.

<Chris Walker-Bush in his office at the arena - his mobile rings...>

C W-B: Hello?

Baron von Crascjke: Good evening Chris - do you have a minute?

C W-B: Go ahead...

von Crascjke: Just so you know, this conversation is being forwarded to the entire roster here at ASWL - but I want to make a few things clear...

C W-B: Yes?

von Crascjke: First, I wasn't demanding a title shot against Sir Penfold - I was merely calling him out for his reluctance to defend his title. If you go through the transcripts, you won't find that I said otherwise - I told him, "If you won't defend your title against someone whom you have beaten before..."

C W-B: Okay, I see that...

von Crascjke: To the extent that I did not make myself entirely clear, I apologise to you and to everyone at ASWL, except Sir Penfold of course - if you wanted me to wrestle Pauline Hanson in a new kind of submission match for ASWL, where the loser has to make the winner happy in unspeakable ways, although I wouldn't have liked that, I would have gone into the ring with her...

...I'll wrestle anyone, anywhere, anytime - steel cage, hell in a cell, hardcore, handicap match, best of three falls with no time limit, whatever - because that's what's expected of a true wrestling professional - something Sir Penfold is apparently not...

C W-B: All right, then - what if I cancelled your match with El se·ñor Ding Dong, and arranged that awful match you described?

von Crascjke: That's your prerogative - but that rama-lama Ding Dong would still be on my chopping - er, shopping list, which I would fill at your earliest convenience <chuckles> You see, I don't have time to waste posing, or lying - I may want to destroy my opponent, but I prefer to do so inside the ring - the audience likes the blood right out in the open, I find...

C W-B: <chuckles> You wouldn't use the claw as you showed me on your tape, in the ring?

von Crascjke: The Iron Claw can kill, if I go too far - properly used, it can merely make an opponent comatose for a while. Great discipline is necessary to use it properly - and as you can see, I have the necessary discipline...

...besides, a really good rivalry is hard to find - if I kill everyone, I won't get one - and thus I will be forever consigned to the top of the card, wrestling the nobodies...

C W-B: <laughs> I see - how unspeakable is that submission match you thought of for Pauline Hanson?

von Crascjke: <muffled whisper>

C W-B: No wonder you wouldn't have liked that - I think she would only like it if she won...

von Crascjke: Mayhaps Sir Penfold would enjoy such a match, though...

C W-B: <rotfl, panting> Indeed!

von Crascjke: Now I hope we're on the same page, sir?

C W-B: I think so - have a good match...

von Crascjke: Thanks - good evening...

<phone disconnect> <a knock on the door - "Catering!">

The door opens, and the arena catering chief wheels in a cart, laden with a case of Chris' favourite brew, on ice of course, a 1 kilo steak loaded with grilled mushrooms and onions, with a pair of large baked potatoes, fixings to the side, and a large slice of cheesecake.

C W-B: What's this?

Catering chief: Your dinner, sir - compliments of the arena...

C W-B glances at the place card: "To honour and discipline - Baron von Crascjke"

C W-B mutters to himself: He'll win the title by default in a year, if he keeps apologising like this..." <his mobile rings again> Yes?

Voice: Why in the world did that crackpot Crascjke send me dinner?

C W-B: Sir Quincy Penfold? What dinner?

SQP3: A 1 kilo steak with mushrooms and onions, two large baked potatoes with all of the fixings, a large slice of cheesecake, and a case of my favourite beer, perfectly chilled on ice?

C W-B: I haven't the foggiest notion, Sir Penfold - but he may have been apologising to you for something...

SQP3: It won't do him any good - I'll destroy him on a full stomach as well as I would on an empty one...

C W-B: Enjoy your dinner, Sir Penfold - the catering here is up to your standards... <disconnects> <Takes knife and cuts into very tender steak> Ahhh - a good dinner, and a good show tonight - what more could I ask for...

<knock on door> Come in?

<Nicole Kidman walks in>: Hi, Chris...

C W-B: That answers that question <smiles>