***The scene opens in the backstage halls of PWA Arena where the FIERCE and DEADLY Coldsnakes have apparently commandeered a microphone and camera crew. Junior Cobra stands center-frame wearing a garish blue tie and tweed sports jacket over his normal wrestling attire. He is holding a feminine-looking Bob Barker stick-microphone and wearing a stretched and slightly unhinged looking grin on his masked face.***
COBRA: “Welcome back to the one and only PWA Arena ladies and gentlemen! It’s been an absolutely balls-out show so far and would you believe we’ve only just started!? Junior Cobra here with some unbelievably insanely exciting news for all you cats and kittens out there in TV land. Now, as everyone in the PWA Armada knows, we are ALL about tournaments up here in this biznitch. You can’t walk from here to catering without tripping over half-a-dozen round-robin brackets. Heavyweight championship? Tag-Team Championship? Light Bantam-Weight Ecuadorian Championship? If it’s gold-plated and pairs well with a purse and shoes here in the PWA, you can bet it was won in a multi-man, best-of-nine, double-elimination tournament of some sort. And TONIGHT we continue that storied tradition as we introduce the Prestige Wrestling Association’s newest CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE!”
***The camera pans over to Giant Anaconda, who holds in his hands a large velvet-draped object.***
COBRA: “ As you all of course know… for the past several weeks, every superstar worth his salt has been competing in a knock-down, drag-out, last-man-standing, trans-gender, quadruple elimination tournament for the greatest honor this business has ever seen. What started as an elite bracket of one hundred ninety-four top competitors has now been whittled down to an elite TWO. The two absolute baddest men on the planet… the two nearly immortal masses of muscle who have earned the right… nay, the HONOR of competing here TONIGHT in the final round of this prestigious, magnificent tournament for PWA’s greatest prize… the ONE belt that was literally TOO BIG for Rise of Kings!”
***Anaconda slings the too-big-to-be-a-belt, velvet draped object over his shoulder and flexes mightily.***
COBRA: “ONE worthy individual will walk out of this arena tonight with… drum roll please… the one-and-only DERRICK ARZON CHAMPIONSHIP!”
***Anaconda pulls away the velvet sheet to reveal a limp Derrick Arzon draped over his shoulder.***
COBRA: “That’s right ladies and gentlemen… the winner of tonight’s EPIC contest will literally win THE Derrick Arzon… AND ALL THAT THAT IMPLIES! I ask you… what championship title can compete with the glory and the grandeur of unwavering human servitude! Amenities included with the Derrick Arzon Championship include: all 193lbs of literal Derrick Arzon, excellent for holding your place in long lines, propping open heavy doors, and picking up your dry cleaning. In addition to that, the Derrick Arzon Championship comes complete with the Derrick Arzon ATM card and a nigh-unlimited supply of Coldsnake-approved, $20.00 bills.”
***Anaconda reaches in the back of Derrick Arzon’s tights and steals his wallet.***
COBRA: “But who has earned the prestigious right to compete for this unparalleled honor? Let’s take you to ringside and find out!”
***The camera cuts to the packed PWA Arena entrance ramp, where fans eagerly await the arrival of the two competetors.***
BLOOMFIELD: “Folks… I uh… I don’t know exactly what’s going on here. I guess we… uh… I guess we are waiting for our two… um… ‘Derrick Arzon Championship’ tournament finalists? I can’t believe I just said that.”
***After a few moments, the music of the FIERCE and DEADLY Coldsnakes erupts in the arena and Giant Anaconda and Junior Cobra make their way to the ring. Anaconda still has a limp but fully-conscious Derrick Arzon draped loosely over his shoulder. As he approaches the ring, Anaconda lays Derrick Arzon gently on the announcer’s table.***
BLOOMFIELD: “Um… I guess that the ‘Derrick Arzon Championship Belt’ will just be… here on the table during this match.”
***Junior Cobra runs over to the ring announcer and whispers something in his ear. The announcer raises an eyebrow and sighs audibly.***
ANNOUNCER: “Ladies and Gentlemen, please allow me to introduce the two finalists in the Derrick Arzon Championship Tournament… JUNIOR COBRA and GIANT ANACONDA!”
BLOOMFIELD: “Ah… of course. Of course this is what’s happening.”
***Junior Cobra and Giant Anaconda shake hands in the ring and back up into their individual corners. Cobra begins stretching his leg against the ropes, and Anaconda adjusts his wrist tape. After a moment, the bell rings and the Coldsnakes begin circling each-other.***
BLOOMFIELD: “Wait… did the bell just… we’re ACTUALLY doing this?”
***Cobra begins by throwing a loud chop to the giant chest of Anaconda as the crowd goes mild. Anaconda no-sells it and Cobra clutches his hand in agony. Anaconda cocks his head to one side and comes over to check on Cobra’s hand… only to have Cobra kick him squarely in the groin… which Anaconda also no-sells. Cobra clutches his foot in agony and falls to the mat rolling around moaning. Anaconda sighs and lifts Cobra to his feet with one hand. Cobra pulls away from Anaconda and begins Hulking up, shaking his fists and stomping his feet. Cobra scoops up Anaconda into a mighty bodyslam… only to have Anaconda fall on top of Cobra, squeezing the air out of him and making him expel a loud and high-pitched squeak from most likely his mouth. Anaconda lays limply on Cobra, completely pinning him to the mat for a solid thirty seconds… but since no referee ever bothered to come out to officiate this match… they just keep laying there. Minutes pass.***
BLOOMFIELD: “Oh for the love of…”
***Gary Bloomfield looks over at the timekeeper, who just shrugs and rubs his temples with his hands. Bloomfield then turns to the announcer and taps his watch. The announcer just taps his headset and shakes his head. Bloomfield looks up at an uncaring god and exhales deeply.***
BLOOMFIELD: “Ok… ok fine, I’ll take care of this.”
***Bloomfield takes off his headset and rolls into the ring, where he broadly and theatrically counts 1… 2… 3. Cobra and Anaconda both jump up and start cheering wildly. Cobra grabs a microphone and Anaconda rolls out of the ring and picks up the Derrick Arzon Championship. With the light-heavyweight superstar slung over his shoulder, he slides back in the ring. Cobra raises the microphone to his mouth.***
COBRA: “Well… you win some and you lose some, am I right?”
***Anaconda nods at Cobra and shakes his hand with a meaty, gloved mitt. Cobra smiles and nods back, a tear in his eye and a proud look on his face.***
COBRA: “You ALMOST had me too… better luck next time big guy.”
BLOOMFIELD: “What? But you… you…”
***Anaconda nods and hands over the Derrick Arzon Championship to Junior Cobra, who immediately collapses to the mat, unable to move under the weight of the 193lb light heavyweight. Anaconda applauds enthusiastically and gestures supportively at Junior Cobra. Still in the ring, Gary Bloomfield looks on with an extremely confused look on his face. He approaches Cobra to get clarification on what just happened… and then thinks better of it and walks back to his announcing desk.***
BLOOMFIELD: “I will not dignify what just happened by attempting to explain what I’ve just witnessed. Ladies and gentlemen, we will be back after this commercial break.”
***Anaconda picks Junior Cobra up off the ground and tries futilely to buckle Derrick Arzon around his waist as the scene fades to black.***