PARLIAMENT CITY WRESTLING
“GATES OF BUCKINGHAM”
Thursday, May 17, 2001
JW: Well, Michael, speculation within the wrestling community has been running rampant this week in regards to who the team of former NWC superstars – who are going to be granted the initial PCW tag team championships here tonight – will in fact turn out to be.
MM: Really? I haven’t seen any.
JW: The hotlines have been buzzing, the internet chat boards overflowing… even plain old backstage word of mouth has been at an all-time high concerning this announcement.
MM: No, seriously, James… I haven’t heard so much as a peep.
JW: Surely you’ve read the industry dirt sheets?
MM: Every day. Not a word.
JW: Well… uh… yes… perhaps you’ve overlooked it.
MM: Nope. I read it all, cover to cover. I haven’t heard squat. And I’m not just saying that to be a jerk, although that would certainly be like me to do… I’m being truthful. I don’t think anybody cares.
JW: Well… THESE FANS SURE DO!
[Cut to a shot of a section of the crowd who are currently sitting with their chins in their hands looking extremely bored.]
MM: Uhh… no. Nobody cares about it, James.
JW: YES THEY DO!
MM: No… they really don’t.
JW: I’M TELLING YOU THEY DO!! PEOPLE CARE!! FORMER NWC SUPERSTARS ARE COMING TO PCW AND THE WORLD IS ON THE EDGE OF THEIR SEATS WAITING TO FIND OUT JUST WHO THEY ARE!!!!!
MM: Fine, have it your way.
JW: [panting heavily] And… *gasp* …as we speak…. *hack* …a special correspondent is… *huuuuh* …in the back… *unnnh* …getting to the… *cough* …bottom of it.
MM: You okay, James? You don’t look so hot.
[We watch as Michael casually reaches over and grabs a cup of water from off the broadcast table in front of him. After a second of contemplation he shrugs his shoulders and tosses the water into his partner’s face.]
JW: Thanks, mate… I needed that.
[Our scene shifts to a back hallway. Cormac Cleary, PCW backstage reporter and general nuisance, comes strolling into our picture from the left. He is tugging at his collar as it is quite obvious he is uncomfortable being dressed in the constricting tuxedo management has seen fit to cram him into for this, their biggest card to date. A PCW microphone hangs at his side as he stops in front of the camera and begins to look around as if searching for something.]
JW: Cormac? Cormac, it’s James, can you hear me?
[Cleary does not so much as flinch. He just keeps turning his head from side-to-side as he scours the area.]
JW: Cormac! Do – you – read – me? Come in!
[Still no physical response from Cleary.]
JW: COME IN, CORMAC!! THIS IS JAMES WILLIS!! DO YOU RE–
[Suddenly Cleary puts his finger to his ear as if pushing in an earpiece and raises the mic to his lips. He addresses the camera head on.]
CC: Yeah, yeah, ya bloody wanker, I hear ya. Keep yer knickers on.
JW: Oh. Well… ahh… can you give us any update on the status of the NWC Superstar Tag Team that is scheduled to be here tonight and about whom the whole of the wrestling world is buzzing about?
CC: No, because no such thing exists. Now if you want an update on the *supposed* team of, quote – NWC Superstars – unquote, that *nobody* has been speculating about, I can tell you that as of this moment they are not here.
JW: They’re not?
JW: Hmm… so no sign of them then?
CC: Are you deaf? I said they’re not here.
JW: Ok. Well, ahh… thanks, Cormac… we’ll be checking back in with your later.
[We leave the backstage area and swing back over to a shot of James and Michael at ringside. Marbury is snickering to himself while James looks somewhat despondent.]
JW: Ahhh… there you have it, fans…
MM: I tooooold you. Nobody cares. People are sick and tired of all these supposed “surprise returns”. At this point you could tell people that Black Ops was here and people wouldn’t care until they actually *see* them. Get it? Mystery men are played out.
JW: Yes, I see.
MM: Now can we move on, please?
[Fate has once again led us to backstage (or was that the director?) where we see Cormac Cleary standing by. He’s by now given up on the tuxedo bow-tie, as it hangs untied around his neck, and the top button on his shirt collar is undone.]
JW: CORMAC!! James Willis here…
[Cleary looks unenthusedly into the camera.]
CC: What a surprise.
JW: Tell me… any update on the arrival of our team of former NWC Superstars?
JW: EXCELLENT!! Fill us in, my good man.
CC: They’re here.
JW: Yes? And?
CC: And that’s it. They arrived about ten minutes ago.
JW: Ooookay… any chance you could maybe, oh I dunno… TELL US WHO THEY ARE?!
CC: What, and ruin the, quote – big – unquote, surprise?
JW: Good thinking. We wouldn’t want to spoil it for the fans. Still, any chance you could provide us with a small hint?
CC: Blimey. [he rolls his eyes] Yeah, I can give ya a bloody hint… THEY SUCK!
JW: [confused] Ahh… excuse me?
CC: You ‘eard me, Willis, they bloody suck. They’re an embarrassment to the sport and this whole idea is a shambles. Now if you don’t mind I need to get me a pint so I can wash away any memories of this miserable experience before it sinks too deep into my memory banks.
[Cleary ambles off-screen mumbling the phrase “silly wanker” to himself as he goes.]
JW: Uhhh… thanks for the, um, update… Cormac.
MM: I have to admit, watching you get all hot and bothered over this silly tag team announcement only to be shot down by Cormac is actually quite entertaining. Remind me to buy that boy a drink after the show.
JW: Well, PCW fans, we’re about to–
[James is interrupted by two things – the sudden shift in the scene to the backstage area where we focus on a door marked “Private”, and the shouting voice of Cormac Cleary, backstage interview-guru.]
CC: JAMES! JAMES! CORMAC CLEARY HERE, LIVE BACKSTAGE, WITH SOME LATE BREAKING NEWS ON THE TAG TEAM SITUATION!!
JW: [audibly excited] Really?! Excellent, Cormac, what have you got?!
[Cormac has by now come rushing into the on-screen picture, hunched over like some sort of investigative reporter who is trying not be seen. Why? We have no idea. He also speaks in a semi-whisper.]
CC: Apparently, not more than 30 seconds ago, a two man team of NWC legends entered the building through the rear service entrance and were immediately hustled into this room… [he motions to the door] I have it on a good authority that these two men are the *actual* recipients of the PCW Tag Team titles, and *not* the team I observed arriving earlier. Apparently that first team was meant entirely as a decoy.
JW: WOW!! WHAT A SWERVE!! Tell us more, Cormac!
CC: Now, while I can’t confirm names, my sources are telling me this duo each carried with them NWC World Heavyweight Championship title belts, and arrived – get this – in a *pink* limousine.
JW: WOHHHH!! A PINK LIMOUSINE?! THAT COULD ONLY MEAN–
[Cormac suddenly presses his ear up against the door and begins to frantically wave his arms as if telling James to shush.]
CC: WAIT! WAIT!
[He listens intently at the door.]
CC: I think… I think I hear…
[He listens some more.]
JW: Yes, Cormac? Yesyes?
CC: That sounds like…
[Dramatic pause while Cormac listens at the door like a fool.]
JW: WHAT IS IT?!
[Clearly slowly turns back to the camera, a look of stunned amazement on his face.]
CC: It sounds like… “Eye of The Tiger”. *gulp*
[The camera slowly zooms in on the door, focusing on the placard which reads “Private”. Meanwhile, James Willis nearly has a conniption fit.]
JW: “EYE OF THE TIGER”? A PINK LIMOUSINE? WHY… WHY… WHY THAT CAN ONLY MEAN…
MM: Calm DOWN, Willis! You’re frightening the children!
JW: “SEXY” STEVE SIRE! WHITE TIGER! TOGETHER! HERE IN PCW! GOD SAVE THE QUEEN, WHAT A DAY FOR PCW!!!
MM: Yeah… chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiill.
JW: OH, BOLLOCKS TO THAT! WHAT A STAGGERING ANNOUNCEMENT!!
MM: Would you please REE-LAX! Crimeny, it’s not even an announcement. It’s just a rumor.
JW: IT’S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!!! WOOOHOOO!!!
JW: FANS, IT DOESN’T GET ANY BIGGER THAN THIS!!!
[Cut to center ring, where Cormac Cleary stands waiting patiently. His bow-tie has once again been tied snugly around his neck and he looks raring and ready to go.]
CC: Ladies and gents, it’s time now for a very special presentation. It’s time to learn who will be the recipients of the first ever PCW tag team championship!
[The crowd cheers. In fact, they go “RAAAAAAAAAAH!” Mob mentality rules.]
JW: This is it! Here we go, Michael! Sire and White Tiger!
MM: I hope for your sake you’re right, cuz you’re heading for one major coronary if this falls through.
CC: So without any further ado, I present you the inaugural Parliament City Wrestling Tag Team Champions…
## I’m too sexy for my shirt ##
[And again with the “RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”. These people explode at the sound of Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy” blaring over the P.A.]
JW: THAT’S IT!! THEY’RE HERE!!!
MM: Damn! Maybe you’re right, James!
JW: OF COURSE I’M RIGHT!! IT’S STEVE SIRE!! IT’S WHITE TIGER!! IT’S… IT’S…
[It’s the sound of a needle being scratched across a record. It’s distinctive. It’s loud. It’s a sign.]
[The roar of the crowd dies down almost instantly the moment a new song hits the speakers. A sparse drum joined seconds later by a crunching rhythm guitar and then a few moments after that by an unmistakable rasp. The song may not be familiar, but the voice sure is. Say hello to Sammy Hagar, everyone.]
## Walk out the bedroom / Into the light ##
## Can’t sleep cause morning’s come / Can’t sleep all night ##
## Burned out on the TV set / Burned outa sex ##
## I ain’t trashed / I’m fucking wrecked ##
[The tune is “Shaka Doobie”, and it’s rippin’ it’s way through the sound system while a confused crowd looks on. In the ring, Cormac Cleary stands with a mischievous grin on his face.]
## The skyyyyy-yyyyy’s the limit ##
## Shaka, Doobie, Shaka ##
## So hiiiii-iiiiigh up in it ##
## Shaka, Doobie ##
CC: Ladies and gents, please give a warm PCW welcome to *YOURRRRR*… hahahaha… TAG TEEEAAAMMM CHAMPIONSSSSS…
…THE BAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWDDD SQUAAAAAAAAAADDDDD!!!!!
[Needless to say, the crowd has been stunned into a large round of indifference. A few people cheer, a whole bunch boo, and a pretty good sized chunk just laugh. At least *they* get the humor.]
[Through the curtain and bounding towards the ring like conquering heroes come two young men, who while familiar to most hardcore followers of the NWC are not exactly the type of household names one was expecting under the circumstances. Meet Marky “Rip” Peters and “The Chisel” Chad Cormier, together known as The BOD Squad.]
JW: But… but… that’s not Sire and White Tiger.
JW: The BOD Squad?
MM: WHHOOO-HOOOOO!!! HAHAHAHA!!
JW: But… but…
[Marky and Chad bumble their way towards the ring, the crowd slowly but surely turning to their side with an increasing cheer of bemused approval. They may be dorks, but they’re lovable dorks. It’s that Too Cool kind of vibe.]
[For the record, Marky is a pure fireplug. At only 5’10”, he is one of the shortest wrestler’s in the business, but his 227 pound frame is all muscle. Years of body building have paid off as his physique is unrivaled in the sport of wrestling. He has short, sandy blonde hair and deep brown eyes. His nose is small and flat and his face is round but strong. His legs are the most impressive feature of his detailed body, as his thighs are absolutely massive for a man his size. He has gold studs in each ear and is currently smiling from ear-to-ear like a chimp. His trunks are a pair of hot pink bicycle shorts (think Billy Gunn circa his “Mr. Ass” days) and he wears black knee pads and hot pink boots. His upperbody is covered by a black half-tee with “HUZZAH!” written across the front in huge pink letters.]
[The lankier of the two BOD Squad members, Chad Cormier is a perfect example of what happens when you obsess over your appearance. His body is tight and compact, his muscles bulging and extremely well defined. He has short, bleach blond hair which is currently tucked under a black bandana, and a small bleached goatee. His face is narrow, with a strong, jutting jawline. His eyes are a soft blue. At 6’0″/183, his frame is very well balanced with his arms and back apparently the focus points of his body building, although the rest of his body has clearly not been neglected. In a way, he looks like a midget version of Scott Steiner. Chad’s attire for the evening is a loose-fitting tank top (white with “Mr. Boddy” stenciled in royal blue on the front) and lime-green bicycle shorts. He also wears black elbow and knee pads and lime-green boots.]
CC: Hey, James…
JW: That’s… that’s not funny.
MM: Sure it is… YOU TOOL!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
JW: Okay, guys… I get it.
[It takes a few more moments for the Bodders to actually make their way into the ring and for Cormac to get his own laughing under control. For their part, Marky and Chad don’t seem to realize that they’re the butt of the joke. No surprise there.]
CC: Alright, people, let’s get this show on the road…
[A referee steps through the ropes carrying with him the two PCW tag team title belts. I’ll say this about them – they’re nice looking belts.]
CC: Marky, Chad… may I be the first to… *snicker* …congratulate you on becoming tag champs. You must be… heehee… really honored.
[Marky grabs the mic from Cormac’s hands, allowing the announcer to turn his attention to continuing his laughing. For those new to the B.S. experience, Marky does all the talking while Chad stands around and poses like the bastard child of Hulk Hogan & Lex Luger. Tonight… is no different.]
Peters: HUZZAH!! THANKS, BRAH!!
[He takes one of the belts from the referee and hoists it high above his head. Surprisingly he gets a decent sized pop from the crowd.]
Peters: Yo, yo, dude, this is truly DA BOMMMMMB!!! Me and The Chiz, we been like, totally jazzed for this for weeks, yo. What a hella-cool thing to have happen!
[Another big grin and another thrust of the belt.]
Peters: TOP OF THE WORLD, MA!!
[And get this – another pop. Whoda thunkit?]
Peters: Anyway, yo, me and The Chiz, we plan on bein’ the whackdaddy coolest, hippest, most fightinest tag team champs this fed has ever seen, yo. RAD CITY, WE’RE TAKIN’ ON ALL COMERS!!
MM: Maybe somebody should point out that as of right now, they’re the ONLY tag champs the fed has ever seen.
JW: Don’t talk to me.
MM: Heh heh. Loser.
Peters: So like, we wanna give a big shout out to all our bro’s back in Cali… WAZZZUUUP, VENICE BEACH!!!
[Of course, being in London, the crowd couldn’t give a crap about his homies back in the States, so the reaction is fairly anemic.]
Peters: This is just SLAMMIN’! THANKS, PCW!!
[Once again Marky raises the title belt up high and once again he gets a decent pop. The duo then begins to make their exit, as does Cormac Cleary, who climbs out on the side of the announcers to get one final chance to mock James Willis before he leaves.]
JW: Tell me this segment is over.
MM: Just about. Want to say goodbye to Cormac?
JW: I hate you both.
MM: Heh heh.