*Suddenly, the arena lights lower and the entrance ramp is bathed in strobing green and white laser lights.  The high-energy theme song of the FIERCE and DEADLY Coldsnakes blasts through the arena sound system.  After a few moments, amid a shower of sparks and green-hued fog, Junior Cobra and Giant Anaconda II emerge from the entrance ramp.  Anaconda has a man-sized, brown burlap sack slung over his shoulder, which Cobra playfully punches at as he shadow-boxes his way to the ring.*

BLOOMFIELD:  “Folks, I don’t know exactly what we’re about to see here.  I’m being told that Junior Cobra requested a few minutes of time tonight to address the PWA audience.  I can only assume that Derrick Arzon… I’m sorry, that the ‘Derrick Arzon Championship’ is in that bag over Giant Anaconda’s shoulder.  Exactly what the Coldsnakes have in mind tonight, and why in the world PWA management agreed to let them do it, are a complete mystery to me.”

*Junior Cobra leaps enthusiastically into the ring and gestures to Anaconda… who unceremoniously dumps the man-sized burlap sack over the top rope into the ring.  Cobra gives the bag a couple of enthusiastic kicks and laughs hysterically as the bag spasms.*

BLOOMFIELD:  “You know, I’m usually fairly tolerant of Junior Cobra’s sophomoric antics, but his behavior since unveiling the so-called ‘Derrick Arzon Championship’ has bordered on sociopathic.  I’d say he’s let his new pet project go to his head, but that would imply that he has something going on between his ears, and that may be giving him too much credit.”

*Cobra parades around the ring, making broad, championship belt gestures around the waist with his hands.  He laughs out loud and makes a flippant gesture to a ringside attendant to give him a microphone.  After making a show of testing the microphone and clearing his throat, Cobra addresses the PWA Armada.*

COBRA: “Welcome, welcome, welcome PWA Trousersnakes to the single most amazing, scintillating, mega-orgasmic regular weekly segment on all of PWA Assault!  Yes, it is time once again… for the Junior Cobra, Derrick Arzon Championship, Limited-Open!  Where I invite ANY PWA Superstar in my dressing room to come out here and challenge for the single heaviest championship belt in all of the wrestling universe!  I have searched high and low for the most worthy challenger in all of the world to compete for the right to be known as the one and only Derrick Arzon Champion!  In just a moment, you will witness a match of the ages, between the one and only Junior Cobra, and someone who is, quite possibly, the single most sought after free agent in all of pro wrestling.”

*Junior Cobra smiles and nods out at the visibly skeptical PWA audience.  After a moment… his smile fades a little.  He looks out at the crowd and sighs.  He puts his hands on his hips and nods… apparently deep in thought.*

COBRA:  “You know… if I didn’t know better, I’d say you people aren’t taking me 100% seriously.  As hard as it is to believe, sometimes… I think that MAYBE you people think that I’m something of a joke.  Well you know what?  I think MAYBE you all need to take a step back and think about just who you are looking at in this ring right now.  I’m Junior FREAKING Cobra you know.  Yeah yeah… I know what people say about me in the back.  But guess what buttheads… like it or not, me and Anaconda are former TWO time PWS Tag-Team Champions.  The FIERCE and DEADLY Coldsnakes are founding members of The DEVIL’S OWN, the greatest FREAKING bad guy faction in the history of Fire Pro Wrestling. Heck, check the record sheets… we’re the number-one contenders to the gosh-dang PWA Tag Team Titles RIGHT NOW!  How’s that for a couple of ‘jokers’ like us?”

*Cobra runs over to the burlap sack in the ring and gives it a hard kick.*

COBRA:  “Heck, this isn’t even the first time I’ve created a title out of nowhere and made it the most damn important thing on the show!  Back in SHAFT I created the PWS Lightweight Championship out of NOTHING and within weeks it was an officially recognized title that ended up TOTALLY eclipsing their old Crusierweight Title!  Don’t believe me?  Go look back at the tape library!”

BLOOMFIELD:  “You know… I can’t believe I’m saying this but Cobra is actually telling the truth here.”

COBRA:  “You people love to just look at me and laugh.  You think me and Anaconda are just big jokers. Well that’s fine man, because call a cat a cat, we’re fun as heck!  We’re the dang life of the party!  But just remember… while you’re laughing and pointing and overlooking us… we’re quietly taking over, kicking your asses, and taking your twenties!  Don’t believe me?  Just look at who’s chomping at the bit to face me for the prestigious DA Championship! That’s right, SNOW, the man who stole the show at Rise of Kings by banishing Brawler Beckett from PWA was just backstage last week BEGGING me for a title shot!  So… you THINK you’re watching a joke but really the JOKE’S ON YOU!”

BLOOMFIELD:  “I’m… not quite sure what to make of this folks.  In a shocking moment of selective clarity, Junior Cobra ‘seems’ to be making… good God I don’t know how to say it… he’s making some vaguely valid points.”

COBRA:  “Anyway… where was I going with this?  Oh yeah!  You dumbfarts are about to witness the FUTURE of PWA!  Feast your eyes on the first title defense of the greatest most amazing, most gravity-challenging championship in the history of the world!  Anaconda, get my belt out of the ring and somebody get me my challenger!”

Anaconda reaches in the ring and drags the burlap sack roughly under the ropes and down to the floor.  Cobra backs up to a corner and begins doing vigorous calisthenics in preparation for what will undoubtedly be a five-star classic match.

 

*Cobra parades around the ring like he’s won a supercard main event.  The crowd shifts uncomfortably in their seats as they try to comprehend what they’ve seen.  After a few moments, Anaconda rolls into the ring with the Derrick Arzon Championship draped over his shoulder.  He claps Cobra on the shoulder enthusiastically and fist-pumps his free arm in the air.  Suddenly, the arena lights lower and the inspiring music of Snow explodes over the arena speakers.  The Coldsnakes stop celebrating and look toward the entrance ramp with confused looks on their faces. After a moment, Snow comes walking out with a microphone in his hand.*

SNOW:  “Hola, Amigo.  That was quite the show you put on there.  I don’t know who was more impressive…the referee or the burlap sack.  Now, are you going to let Arzon go, or do I have to force you?”

*Cobra grabs a microphone from a ringside attendant and jumps up to the top of the rope and stares down at Snow.*

COBRA:  “Well well well… would you all look at who it is?  Look everybody!  It’s SNOW, the NUMBER ONE CONTENDER to the FULLY LEGITIMATE AND REAL Derrick Arzon Championship!  Snow, why don’t you say a few words about how eager you are to get in the ring and fight for the most prestigious a sought-after title in all of professional wrestling!”

SNOW: “Usted debe estar bromeando.  Cobra, I don’t know how to say it any clearer.  Your so called title is a living person.  At least he had better be living.  Now, please let Derrick go.”

COBRA:  “I’m sorry… your microphone must be shorting out.  It ALMOST sounded like you were saying that the Derrick Arzon Championship isn’t real… and you DIDN’T want a shot at the title.  Is that how you feel Snow?  Because… I mean, if you don’t want a shot, you can certainly forfeit your number-one contendership.  I’m sure there’s plenty of other guys back there that would like a shot.”

SNOW:  “Is this a game to you, Cobra?  Because a man’s livelihood isn’t a playing matter.  You need to let him go, right now.  If you do not, then I WILL have to force you to do so, just like I forced Brawler Beckett to retire from active competition.  Think carefully, amigo.  Is that the game you want to play?”

COBRA:  “So… you DO think that this is a real title and you DO want to challenge for it on live PWA Television?”

*Snow stares silently for a long moment.*

SNOW: “There’s no right answer to that question.  But if it means that you aren’t using a man as a ridiculous prop, then you’re damned right I want to fight you.”

*Cobra turns to the crowd, beaming.*

COBRA: “You see guys?!  Snow says it’s real!  That’s all the endorsement you need!”

SNOW: “Cela ne peu pas être réel.  I don’t know what world you are living in, my friend.”

COBRA:  “Alright Snow… you’ve got your shot at earning a match for the title!”

SNOW: “Then I’ll see you in the ring…hold on.  A shot?  Cobra, quite playing games with me.  Are you going to let that man go, or not?”

COBRA:  “Meet me right here in this ring next week.  I’ll tell you everything you need to do to get that oh so sweet championship opportunity!  Until then… you’ll have to excuse me, Anaconda and I have a SUCCESSFUL TITLE DEFENSE to celebrate!”

*Cobra slides out of the ring, followed by Anaconda and they leap out of the ring and make their way up the entrance ramp, pushing past a very confused Snow, who just shakes his head and watches them go.*