Promo: We Haven't Forgotten You, JD...

[Guest chirs3]

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Raynor drops his wrench on the concrete and flinches at the *KLANG* that was louder than expected. He shakes it off, then slides out from under the Love Rollercoaster.

 

"Hammer."

 

Magnifico hands him a hammer, and he dissapears back under the vehicle...

 

*KLANG KLANG KLANG*

 

...

 

Raynor rolls back out and hands back the hammer.

 

"Blowtorch."

 

Edwin hands him the tools he needs, and again Raynor goes out of sight. The Mac Daddy and Magnifico make small talk over the incredibly loud flaring of the torch...

 

"Shouldn't we be fixing... you know, the part of the cart that's actually broken?" Rotten asks. "Like the roof, maybe?"

 

"We will," Raynor calls from underneath. "But I figure we could use an upgrade downstairs as well... and none of you better be giggling at the sexual innuendo one could draw from that."

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Jay Dawg is on the Interstate with no one in front of him and no one behind him. He smiles to himself and presses down on the accelorator, taking the black Dodge pickup well over the speed limit, and he begins searching the radio.

 

It's been a pretty decent week for Jay Dawg. He's a three time, three time, THREE TIME! United States Champion. He did Da Pound proud, helping to win that tag matches on Storm and Smarkdown!... He even got some phone numbers of a few fans he wouldn't mind getting to know a little better...

 

"Agh, this is crap." Jamie begins digging around next to his seat, unsatisfied with the horde of easy listening stations all over the airwaves. He keeps his eyes on the road, and instead just pulls out random CDs one at a time, and gives them a quick glance before dropping it back in the pile. His hand comes across a case, thinner than the others, and he pulls it up to take a look.

 

"Ahhhh, I thought I had lost this one!" He smiles and cracks the case labeled "ROAD MIX" open, removes the CD, and feeds it into the player. He closes the case and tosses it onto the passenger side seat, and soon he's lost in metal paradise...

 

He should have picked a different CD...

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

Raynor slides out from under the cart, hopefully for the last time. Magnifico provides a drumroll and Edwin moves to the edge of his seat as Raynor approaches the ignition key...

 

He turns it...

 

...

 

*cough*

 

*cough* *sputter*

 

...

 

...

 

*VROOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*

 

"YES!" High fives all around! They all look upon the cart with-

 

PFOOM!

 

-a look of terror as an unexpected stream of flame shoots out of the back! They all leap away, and after melting a nearby chair, the stream of fire dissapears just as quickly as it came...

 

A long silence...

 

Rotten is the first to say what's on everyone's mind. "Uh... cool?"

 

Raynor slowly shrugs. "I... guess so?"

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

The metal flows freely throughout the surround speakers, and Jay Dawg's head bobs along. "This is the life," he thinks to himself. "This is the-

 

*PSSSSHT*

 

"Aw, what the fuck?" Jay Dawg bangs his CD player with his fist, but it's no use. Songs don't usually cut themselves short in the middle... Maybe there was a scratch on the CD. Maybe it's skipped. Maybe it's-

 

Tiny voices can be heard...

 

"Is it working?"

 

"I think so."

 

"Ready?"

 

"Yea."

 

No...

 

...

 

No, it couldn't be...

 

...

 

"HELLLOOOOOO, JAY DAWG!" shout four voices in unison, those voices ringing all too familiar in JD's head! He whirls around in his seat, expecting a panda or a manatee or some other endangered animal to be in his back seat, and in doing so he lets his hands off the wheel! There's a long uncomfortable silence before Jamie turns back to the road-

 

*SCREEEEECH*

 

And narrowly misses a station wagon!

 

"JESUS CHRIST!"

 

"Are we there yet?" whines one of the voices, with a heavy Mexican accent.

 

Jamie glares down, hyperventilating, at the CD player, then jams his finger into the EJECT button...

 

... or where the EJECT button used to be, anyway.

 

"Now now Magnifico, don't make me turn this car around!" Edwin chirps, and Magnifico grumbles in the background as Raynor giggles uncontrollably.

 

He jams his finger into the STOP button...

 

...or he would, if his CD player still had a stop button. Pause, rewind, fastforward... gone, gone, gone.

 

"Now then, where were we- Hello, Mr. Dawg! How are you this morning, or afternoon? Evening is it? Well, no matter. Regardless of the time, I asked how you were doing. It's rude not to answe-

 

"FUCK YOU, EDWIN!"

 

Jamie grabs the volume dial and twists as hard as he can to the left- *SNAP* -The little plastic cylinder comes off! Jamie raises it up to his horrified eyes, then looks back down at the CD deck. "By now," Raynor starts, "you've probably begun to figure out that you're stuck with us for a while. I hope you don't mind the liberties we took with your CD player, but we wanted to make sure you'd hear us out.. I figure we should use this time to clear up a few things."

 

"Numero Uno," Magnifico recites. "The Love Rollercoaster. Your shameless desecration of the SWF's finest locomotive was, how you say, inexcusable? Yes, and we feel you owe us an apology."

 

"A card would be nice," Edwin chimes in, "and maybe some flowers."

 

"At least a phone call to see if she's alright," adds Rotten.

 

"Grovelling would be appropriate."

 

"Money most certainly not out of line."

 

Jamie's eyes are glued on the road, and he jams his foot down on the gas even more. He catches the next sign...

 

=== Airport - 30 miles ===

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

"Watch the master at work!" Rotten grabs a screwdriver and ascends a small stepladder to gain access to the roof of the Love Rollercoaster.

 

"Watch out, senor` Rotten, I'm painting the hood." Leonardo DaMagnifco adds another brushstroke, then steps back to get a good look at his work.

 

Suddenly Edwin pops in the door and holds up a box. Raynor gleefully shouts "You got it!", and Edwin replies with a grin "I got it." He takes the top off the box and tosses it aside, then removes ever so slowly, for dramatic effect...

 

... an autographed Mark Stevens baseball glove...

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

"But we can settle all that in due time." continues Raynor. "We have another matter to discuss, that being your United States championship title reign... a small tragedy it is, that the US of A no longer has you to look up to."

 

JD stares in disbelief at the speaker from which Raynor's voice emenates. "I'm still the champion, you moron!"

 

"Oh, don't misunderstand me," the CD replies, "you are still champion... but you no longer represent the United States."

 

Edwin mutters behind them "Thank bloody God."

 

"In fact," Raynor continues, "you're the very first champion of your kind."

 

Jamie looks incredulous. "Wha?"

 

"I'm sure even you are aware of the title's stipulation, correct? Let me refresh your memory..."

 

Some shuffling of papers, and soon Magnifico begins reading off in a nasally monotone. "He/She who holds the SWF Third Tier Title, defaultly named the United States title, may change the name of said title for the duration of his or her reign, and is also entitled to a custom gold plating of the name where United States defaultly resides."

 

Edwin pipes up "Basically, that means if you hold the title, you call it whatever the bloody hell you want and you can have it printed on there too. And your championship... well, you really outdid yourself this time."

 

A rousing round of applause from the trio currently residing in Jamie's truck. Jamie angrily reaches into the back seat while keeping his eyes on the road, and moments later he snags his duffel bag. He pulls it up and dumps everything on the floor. The belt falls out last, and he grabs it and picks it up-

 

-to see a golden pair of bear-covered underwear etched on the front. The words "PandaGram Undergarment Middleweight Champion of Alabama" are emblazoned across the top and bottom around the drawing...

 

"You've made history, JD," Rotten acknowledges in a mocking tone. "Mom will be so proud." Snickers and guffaws from all around.

 

...

 

Jamie drops the belt and puts the pedal to the metal! A nearby sign identifies the airport as being only twenty miles away!

 

"Yes," Raynor continues, "it's amazing what a half-decent forgery and a good platemaker can do for you these days. That title has been entered into the official SWF records. I'm sure it wouldn't be much trouble to get back the old US Title plate... but... why would you want to?"

 

"You bitches are gonna pay," Jamie screams as he awkwardly attempts to kick the CD player, not realizing that CD's can't hear you. "You are gonna pay so FUCKING badly!"

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

We're back to the Carnies, but it's somewhere different. A large, empty concrete lot, with a... is that a giant bullseye?

 

"FIRE!"

 

*KA-CHINK* *FWOOOOM*

 

...

 

...

 

*SPLASH*

 

Raynor turns to Edwin, who has somehow procured an Admiral's hat, and says "Direct hit, sir!" Edwin turns and salutes him, then pauses dramatically...

 

"Bring forth... the pandas..."

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

"-zhee vuzz va vast machine, zhee kepp zhee mozor zeean, zhee vuzz shu vest zhamn voman zhi have zhever zheen..."

 

"Edwin." Jamie thinks. "Edwin MacPhisto on a god damn Kazoo."

 

Applause in the background as Edwin takes a bow that no one can see. A moment later, Raynor takes the mic again.

 

"There's one more matter we'd like to clear up with you, Mr. Dawg... that matter being the tag title match we have this coming Storm."

 

Jay Dawg looks like a man possessed as he zigs in and out of traffic. Frequent car horn bursts and screams of "FUCK YOU BUDDY!" call out to him, but all of his attention rests on the road ahead... a small green sign zooms past:

 

===Airport - 17 miles===

 

"You may be a three time, three time, three time US Champion-

 

"Not to mention," Rotten cuts in, "the newly crowned-

 

Everyone joins in and shouts as loud as they can "S-W-F PANDAGRAM UNDERGARMENT MIDDLEWEIGHT CHAMPION OF AAAAAALABAMMAAAAA!"

 

...

 

"... but I myself am a three time, three time, three time Tag Team Title holder! What does that imply?"

 

"Um... That Senor` Dawg is better at fighting in the US?" Magnifico asks.

 

"Erm... well, I suppose it might mean he fights better in the US, but I-

 

"Hey," Rotten cuts in, "where's Storm?"

 

"CANADA!"

 

Cries of "CANADA!" erupt from all around, and a small child one car over begins to cry.

 

Raynor cries "YES! Canada! Not the US... CANADA! You're screwed, JD! Screeeeeeewed!"

 

...

 

...

 

...

 

 

"And to drive that point home, here's The Midnight Carnival singing '99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall'. Enjoy."

 

Fourteen miles...

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

All four Carnies step back and behold their new vehicle. A contented sigh from all of them...

 

*contented sighing sound*

 

A new coat of paint for the entire golf cart - a midnight black for damn near everything but the seats. The empty spaces are filled with gold and silver stars, with trails that swish and swoosh every which way. Around each bar holding up the roof are wrapped dozens of flashing lights, like the kind used on Christmas trees.

 

The hood of the car remains virtually the same - there is the original collage of the Baseball Glove, the Crown, and gold and silver sparks adorning the front. Added is a large Deputy's star and a Mexican flag, each above and belove the original picture respectively. A reinforced steel bumper covers the front and the back, to prevent (or soften) any damage caused by crashing into the ring (which hasn't ever happened... yet...)

 

And the crowning achievement...

 

Inside the cart, a little left of the steering wheel, is a bright red lever.

 

This lever is connected to a rod on the roof.

 

On the end of this rod is the autographed baseball glove of Mark Stevens.

 

Many a projectile weapon have been tested already - water balloons, stuffed pandas, even a few baseballs, and all hit their target with 97% accuracy. A small tag on the glove is labeled "The Grand Cannon".

 

Watch out.

 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

 

"-urteen bottles of beer on the wall, fourteen bottles of beer!" warbles Rotten, who has sounded more and more drunk with each number ticked off the count. "Take one down, pass it around, thirteen bottles of beer on the wall!"

 

Jamie Drazon pulls into the parking space at the airport and turns the car off. The ballad is mercifully cut short. He grabs his duffel bag, along with his new title, and gets out of the truck, slamming the door so hard behind him the glass cracks. Then he makes a mental note to buy a new CD player and get a car alarm.

 

"YO!"

 

JD whirls around to see Sacred waving at him.

 

"JD! Where you been, man? We been waiting for y-"

 

Jay Dawg holds up his hand, and Sacred now notices his dissheveled, tired, damn near beaten up appearance. He holds up a hand right in his partner's face and, after taking a deep breath, says...

 

"Don't.... just... don't..."

 

He then storms off, leaving a confused ICTV Champion in his wake. Sacred wonders for a moment... then suddenly understands...

 

"... Carnies..."

 

Hee hee.

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

Classic.  It is so, so good to have you back, Caveman Chris.

 

AC/DC...on a kazoo...oh, you beautiful, beautiful creature.  

 

So, you see JD, it's all right to take some liberties with the Carnival...but they'll liberty yo ass right back tenfold!  TAG!

[Guest HVilleThugg]

You just gotta love the Carnival!

 

You just gotta!

 

Da "wondering why Raynor called Sacred the world champ...could have sworn that HVT was the world champ" H

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

Thugg, the Ministry of Truth has no idea what you're talking about.

 

Twitch.

[Guest Muzz]

I love you Raynor.

[Guest chirs3]

That was originally you, Thuggy-poo.

 

But then Sacred and Dawg got that tag match, so edited your "shizzit" out, so to speak.

 

Word.

[Guest HVilleThugg]

ME?  Ooooo!  That would have been even better!  You should have left it...nothing fun ever happens to me anymore.  All I get are pissed off New Yorkers trying to shoot me.

 

Da "running for his life" H

[Guest Muzz]

*sigh* I felt special for a little while...

[Guest chirs3]

*little does Sacred realize that this is alllll mind games - he was really in there from the start*

 

*OR WAS HE?!?!?!*

 

Bwaha.

[Guest Perfect_Bo]

Trying to shoot you..  Shit, it will be a successful task...  NEW YORK BABY!  NEW YORK BABY, WHAT!

 

B "Now really want to kill thugg and it's going to happen" O

 

PS...  Get at that cracker dawg.

[Guest El Luchadore Magnifico]

Only now do I realize that I haven't gotten the full Carnie experience until I've been in one of Raynor's promos.

 

Terrifically hilarous, Chris...

[Guest Grand Slam]

Brilliant!!  Absolutely brilliant!!  I was hoping someone would fix up the ol' Rollercoaster soon!!  And I am honored by the Grand Cannon.  What a better way to be remembered by your temmates then having them lob ink filled balloons at the bad guys in your name!!

[Guest Beingz0wningj00]

You beingz dead Raynor, DEAD!!

 

 

*goes to the Carnival's lockerroom and plugs all the drains, then turns the taps on full, flooding the lockerroom and soaking their stuff*

 

 

Now I hope I taught you a lesson there!

[Guest DiabloIIFreak1010]

::Points to Chris Raynor::

 

That man deserves a hug for everything he's done.

 

Greatest.

Promo.

Ever.

[Guest Insanityman]

P.O.O.F.N.A.R. or this? Toughest decision in a while. But Chris, that was awesome... godly, maybe?

[Guest Beingz0wningj00]

BTW! JD lives in Canada! So ha!

 

*Will rename title the Canadian Championship when time is appropriate*

[Guest chirs3]

But by that time, we'll be fighting in the US again.

[Guest Beingz0wningj00]

Yeah, well not when the Commish is Canadian!

[Guest TheBostonStrangler]

That was beyond amazing. I didn't stop laughing the entire time. Greatest. Mix. EVAR.