Monday, December 12, 2005

Fantasy booking

This week, I'm gonna try my hand at some fantasy booking for just one match, but it's a doozy. I'm gonna think of what happens when the three titans of the e-fedding world collide in one match...

Kodiak Vic Creed vs. The Spoiler vs. Dan Ryan

The match starts out heavy and intense. KVC and Spoiler start by slugging it out, with Ryan picking his spots very cerebrally. Soon, Spoiler gets a slight advantage on KVC and goads Ryan into the full-fledged fray to make it a three way slugfest. After about 5 minutes of heavy fighting, the three suddenly realize that fighting each other is no good. They all confer in the middle of the ring and oddly leave the arena.

They're next sighted landing on the shores of France, armed with nothing but their ring gear and their fists and legs. They're stopped by a group of French customs agents. The next thing you know, the customs agents are planted about 6 inches into the ground. The local police are no match. France surrenders with no hesitation 4 hours later.

Despite their rousing success in France, the alliance almost derails before it starts. Spoiler attempts to eat the Eiffel Tower. KVC is hungry too and he wants some. They bicker. Thankfully for Dan Ryan, cooler heads prevail.

France is not enough for the trio. They move onward to stiffer resistance in Germany,. The German military brings out the heavy guns, but it's no use. Dan Ryan catches bullets with his teeth. Cruise missiles just bounce of Spoiler's red-and-black mask. Vic Creed, the tank-tossing champion in Alaska for the last seven years, just hurls Panzers like Roger Clemens throws fastballs.

One by one, the smaller countries fall. Switzerland might have been neutral before, but that is no concern of Ryan, KVC and Spoils. Ryan carelessly steps on Luxembourg, crushing the country under his boots. Liechtenstein bites it when a missile rams unexploded into Creed's gut, causing him to vomit all over the small, landlocked country. The puke melts all infrastructure. The people have no chance.

While heads of state tremble under Ryan's demands. While KVC keeps the local tank units at bay, Spoiler invades small towns as villagers flee. The ones who remain pray for mercy in the local chapels from a God they fear is pissed at them. IT's not God who's angry. It's just three, really burly professional wrestlers.

One by one, the countries of Europe fall. Denmark, Poland, Austria, Croatia. Hungary falls accidentally, as a random Spoiler burp splits the capital city in twain, back as it was before the Middle Ages, Buda and Pest.

The powers are desperate. The United States sends nuclear capabilities at the loud pleas of the prime minsters of Romania and the Baltic States. They catch a break when all three sit down for a light lunch of pita bread and the blood of their enemies somewhere in Estonia. The US catches them by surprise with a 100-megaton nuke. Estonia is leveled. Survivors mutate almost instantaneously, or grow tumors the size of grapefruits. Creed, Ryan and Naitch though? Unscathed. No wait, their powers increased.

The world panics. Every single one of Vladimir Putin's blood vessels burst simultaneously at the thought of them invading Russia. The world begins a candlelight vigil hoping to stave off the Apocalypse.

But there's no Russian invasion. Just like that, the three disappear from the map, just hours before they would have reached St. Petersburg. No trace whatsoever.

What happened? Well, who knows.

If Jon Katz is to be believed, Brock Estell set a trap so clever that if he himself bgan to explain it, his head would have collapsed upon itself like a neutron star. Many people speculate that Tom Siegel invited them over for breakfast and served them Eggo waffles spiked with enough GHB to last a frat boy througout his 7 year stay at college.

But I know the truth. From an anonymous tip, provided by Lamont Hollywood, the three returned to their home planet to stave off an impending crisis. He didn't say much else except that it involved Joey Melton, midgets, biscuits and perhaps those guys from the Poser Mobile commercial.

Not much else needs to be said.

(Please forgive the above weirdness.... I had a stressful weekend at work, and I think this is the product of 18 hours of mind-numbing retail work, sandwiched around reading the NFW West card this week, which by the way, was fantastic)


Dan said...


Did I win, or what?

Lindz said...


Anonymous said...

Stay away from my stash.

--NOT Craig Miles

James Irish said...

Why couldn't this have been a promo? This would have gaurenteed a win!