BSW: No Mercy – July 21, 2000



Friday, July 21, 2000 (est)




[The back lot of the Rupp Arena. A small tan Toyota Camry pulls up and quickly shuts off. You ever notice that people arriving at wrestling shows just seem to park wherever the hell they want? Anyway, the door to the obvious rental car pops open and out from behind the wheel slides a somewhat familiar face. Former N.E.W.S. President Anton MacTavish may not be exactly “well known” here in the deep recesses of Kentucky, but his mug has seen enough NWC air-time to at least be qualified as “recognizable”.]

[The slim, pale-white face; the slightly thinning red hair; the narrow, black-rimmed glasses. Yup, it’s Anton alright. He gently pushes the car door closed, leaning over to peer at his own reflection in the window as he adjusts his necktie. Satisfied with his appearance, the (relatively) slender 38 year-old tugs on the lapels of his coat, quickly brushes his hands together, and proceeds inside the arena.]




[We cut to an established shot of what is ordinarily the office of BSW Owner and all-round Head Honcho, Jack Ca$h. But with the fearless leader of the Bluegrass Boys currently “out of town” it has been commandeered by former J-Crown Champion and current BSW Commissioner, Abbott McCain. He’s currently kicking back with a beverage of some kind, mindlessly tossing darts across the office to a dartboard on the far wall which is covered over by a photo of Michael Bold.]


[The gentle wrap on the door is greeted by a “come in” from McCain. Seconds later the figure of Anton MacTavish is seen casually entering the room. He reaches out for McCain’s hand in an offer of greeting but gets nothing more than a snide look from the corner of the Drifter’s eye.]

MacTavish: Good evening, Abbott. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.

[There is no audible response from McCain. Just a quick shift of the eyes to MacTavish, then a flick of the wrist which sends another dart sailing towards the pigeonholed photo of Bold.]


MacTavish: Anyway, I’ll get right to the point. The BOD Squad. I want them.

[This gets a response from McCain, although the look he shoots Anton’s way tells us that perhaps he’s not so sure of the Scot’s sexual orientation.]

MacTavish: I mean that I want their *CONtracts*. I wanna purchase them off of you.


[Another dart. McCain still refuses to speak. Instead he makes a simple waving motion with his hand, at which point an aide who had been standing nearby collects all the darts from the board and crosses the room, handing them to Abbott. He then leans over so that the presiding Commish can whisper a few instructions in his ear. The aide quickly scurries out of the room, leaving Anton to stand in silence as McCain fires another metal missile at the Braveheart’s likeness.]


[After a few tense moments…]

MacTavish: Well?

[McCain stops. Again he shoots a silent glance at MacTavish, chilling the former N.E.W.S. President with a harsh stare. Then… another dart.]


[And more silence. Until the previously seen aide comes striding back into the scene. He motions toward the door where the bumbling duo of Chad Cormier and Marky Peters are seen arriving. For most BSW followers, the two men who collectively make up The BOD Squad are unfamiliar, this being their first appearance on BSW TV. So to put it blunt, they’re a couple of morons. Well built and in fantastic physical condition, but a couple of morons nonetheless. When last we left them in their old home of PWP, they were deeply engrossed in a gimmick that had them parading around as “Show” and “Time”, lackeys of former NWC World Champ “Showtime” Trey Slater. Calling themselves the Slater Squad, they had forced their services on their new idol, much to his chagrin. Now… well, now they’re standing in the doorway to McCain’s office still trying to figure out what they’re doing in Kentucky.]

Peters: Yo, boss, like… wazzzuuuuuuuuuup?!

[Marky, in yet another failed attempt to be hip, does some ridiculous motions with his hand. McCain looks at him blankly. Marky turns and notices MacTavish for the first time, giving his former boss a similar greeting.]

Peters: Mr. MacT! HAZZAH! What brings you here, brother?

[Anton does not answer. Instead, he bears the look of a man who is suddenly having second thoughts. Just then, Chad Cormier, who had been wandering around the room looking at all the photos of Jack Ca$h posing with celebrities, lets out a loud yelp.]


[All heads turn towards the scream, where we see young Chad up against the wall just to the left of the irrigated photo of Michael Bold. A dart sticks out from the back of his left shoulder. For the first time, McCain speaks.]

McCain: Let me get this straight… you WANT these two?

[MacTavish sighs and drops his head in shame.]

MacTavish: Sadly… yes.

[Without a word, McCain motions again to the aide, who this time produces a pair of contracts from behind his back. He lays them down across the desk and McCain quickly scribbles his signature on them. He hands the pen to MacTavish who does the same. Meanwhile Marky does his best to remove the dart from his partner’s meaty shoulder. Needless to say, he complicates the process greatly.]

McCain: For the life of me I have no idea what you want with these fools… but just so long as they’re out of my hair.

MacTavish: Thanks, Abbott. Come along you two.

[Anton motions to the Bodders who turn and follow him. I doubt highly they know just what the hell happened, but I doubt even more that they care. It must be nice to be that stupid. Then again… maybe not THAT stupid.]





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