[i]WHTC Recording Studio
Newark, New Jersey,
October, 1985[/i]


[color=SandyBrown]"Good evening, Mongoloids, this is the one and only Terry 'The Talk' Takowski, and I'm standing here with the man, the myth, the living legend himself, 'Handsome' Jack Ransome!"[/color]

[color=DarkOrchid]"Ohhhhh baby, pinch yourself all you want, you ain't dreamin'!  Handsome Jack is here!"[/color]

[color=SandyBrown]"Now, Mr. Ransome-- Jack, if I may-- I understand you're going to be taking some time off due to an unexpected injury.  For those of you just tuning in, the leader of the Fortunate Four and the self-proclaimed Dirtiest Mind in the Business was attacked by a quartet of ex-Marines outside a night club in Atlantic City this past weekend, resulting in a torn quadricep."[/color]

[color=DarkOrchid]"That's right, daddy, but you should've seen what I did to them!  Now, Handsome Jack is gonna be on the bench for some time, and I can already hear the buzzards circling overhead, CAW-CAWWW!  Every low-life, every Johnny-come-lately, every two-bit wannabe in the WWA locker room is already jockeying for position, trying to take my spot at the top of the heap.  Everyone thinks that now that the Big Man is on the bench, they're gonna step up and replace me.  But like every woman I've ever been with knows after going back to their low-class, work-a-day husbands: there ain't no replacing this smile, no replacing my style!  I'm putting everyone in the Dubya-Dubya-A on notice: fight for the throne all you want, you're just keeping the seat warm for me, baby!"[/color]

[color=SandyBrown]"There you have it, Mongoloids, Handsome Jack may be down, but the King of Rings isn't out!  In the meantime, who's going to step up to try and fill the void?  Find out on the next episode of Monday Night Mayhem, coming to you live from the Brendan Byrne Arena, part of the Meadowlands Sports Complex in East Rutherford!  Tickets available now, call the number at the bottom of your screen, and don't forget to tell 'em that Terry The Talk sent ya!"[/color]

[color=Teal]"Aaaaaaand we're out."[/color]

[color=SandyBrown]"....we're clear?"[/color]

[color=Teal]"Yeah, Sonny, we're clear."[/color]

[b][i]*CRASSSSHHHHH!*[/i][/b]

The sound of the small aluminum trash can being hurled against the wall resounded through the cramped studio, garbage flying out and spilling onto the floor.

[color=SandyBrown]"God [i]damn[/i] it!"[/color] Sal 'Sonny' D'Angelo shouted, fuming as he paced across the room.  [color=SandyBrown]"How the fuck are we supposed to fill up the Garden without our star act?"[/color]

[color=DarkOrchid]"Look, Sonny, I'm real sorry about--"[/color]

[color=SandyBrown]"Shut the fuck up, Jack, I don't even wanna look at you right now,"[/color] Sonny cut him off.  [color=SandyBrown]"We've got ten weeks til Slam-A-Rama, ten weeks until the biggest card in the history of wrestling.  And now I don't have a main event!  And why is that?  Because [i]someone[/i] got high off their ass and tried to jump off the roof of their house, and got snagged on a railing on the way down!  You're lucky I came up with that 'ambushed by a bunch of ex-Marines' shit; if people knew what really happened, you wouldn't be able to draw a dime again."[/color]

'Handsome' Jack Ransome, his body chiseled like a Michelangelo sculpture, dressed in an opulent rhinestone-and-sequined robe, his hair perfectly feathered platinum blonde, seemed all of three feet tall as the pudgy balding man berated him.  Still holding the camera, his production assistant Seymour Schmidt did everything he could to blend into the background; he knew that when Sonny got into these moods, it was more than likely he would take out his anger on him.

[color=SandyBrown]"And Seymour!"[/color] Sonny turned, glaring at his scrawny cohort, [color=SandyBrown]"Would it kill you to hold the goddamn camera still?!  We're shooting a wrestling show here, not filming the goddamn Sasquatch."[/color]

Seymour nodded meekly, avoiding eye contact to avoid invoking Sonny's wrath even further.

[color=SandyBrown]"Useless,"[/color] He muttered, grumbling to himself and fumbling around his pockets for his cigarettes as he stormed out of the room.

Leaving a trail of cigarette smoke and obscenities behind him, Sonny D'Angelo marched with terrible purpose from the recording studio to the green room, where a dozen or so hulking brutes in colorful spandex costumes were waiting for him.  In the back of his head, Sonny heard one of his older brothers cracking wise, saying this was the sort of thing he'd fantasize about, then dismissed it.  His brothers were all scum, gangsters and killers.

Sonny?  He was a showman.  And as always, the show must go on.

[color=SandyBrown]"Gentlemen,"[/color] he said, gesturing grandly and making a poor attempt to cover his seething anger, [color=SandyBrown]"Do you hear that?"[/color]

After a few seconds of silence, he made a fist and rapped hit three times, slowly and deliberately, against the green room door.

[color=SandyBrown]"That,"[/color] he began, [color=SandyBrown]"is the sound of Opportunity knocking.  As you all know, Handsome Jack got himself hurt.  That means our top act is going to miss the super-card in the Garden.  [i]That[/i] means one of [i]you[/i] is gonna be our new top act!  We've got ten weeks to put on the biggest goddamn show the world's ever seen, and I'm keeping my eye out for our new star.  So!  Mayhem, this Monday in the Meadowlands.  Here's what I'm thinking......."[/color]


D'Angelo charged over to the chalkboard displaying the station's recording schedule for the day, and hastily wiped it all away with his hand.  Grabbing a piece of chalk, he started to scrawl out the card for the upcoming show:


[Center][color=RoyalBlue]BILLY BRICE[/color]
VS
[color=Red]THE RED MENACE[/color]

[color=RoyalBlue]'RADD' RICKY RAZOR[/color]
VS
[color=Red]GERALD SHAW[/color]

TAG TEAM MATCH:
[color=RoyalBlue]THE PRIDE[/color]
VS
[color=Red]THE JERSEY WRECKING CREW[/color][/center]

[color=SandyBrown]"The studio's open the rest of the day to cut promos, so work it out amongst yourselves for camera-time.  We're also gonna be runnin' some house shows in the Catskills this week to promote the show, so make sure you stay nice an' limber and don't do nothin' stupid to get yourselves hurt.  If you don't see your name on the card, gimme somethin' on the mic or in the ring that makes me wanna add you to the show.  Now have at it; I'm gonna go have another smoke."[/color]

With that, Sonny flicked the butt of his cigarette into a waste bin in the corner, then immediately produced a new one and lit it as he left the room.