2.9 - The Freak Show vs Kumquat Kid & Bruce Richards

[Ro-Bot]

3 RP limit per team.

[KumquatKid]

The following Kumquat Kid promo has been brought to you by:
-Activia, keep your bowels on the ropes!
-Fancy Ketchup, making fast food patrons feel special for over 30 years!
-And of course, Kumquatian viewers like you!

A close up of an alarm clock..but not just any alarm clock mind you, but a giant floating head Spongebob alarm clock. The big hand is inching closer and closer to the nine o'clock spot, as we pan a bit to a sleeping Kumquat Kid. We hear the faint sound of a shower running, as we now know Jenny Lewis, Ryan's beloved wife, is already up for another day of misadventures with her husband and his friends. Suddenly the clock strikes nine and the alarm goes off, as "The Best Day Ever" from The Spongebob Squarepants movie awakens Ryan from his slumber. His eyes are wide with excitement, that pasty white kid smile slowly creeping over his face. He jumps out of bed, revealing that he's wearing a red old school Nintendo Power t-shirt and matching Super Mario Bros. 3 pajama pants. He slips his feet into slippers that simply look like someone chopped off Elmo's feet. The alarm is still on as Ryan bobs his head to the music. He then shuts off the alarm and stretches, letting out a big yawn. He then looks at the camera and waves to us, the friendly fellow he is.

Kumquat Kid: "Oh, hi guys! As you heard, today is the best day ever, and I'll tell you why. Not only am I going to the local video game store to purchase some new treasures, not only am I about to cook some mean cheese omelettes with home fries, but in just a few days I get to team up with my ol' pal Bruce Almighty to take on a team that, well, I hate to say it, leaves me a bit disappointed."

"Now don't read that much into that, opponents of mine, because its not meant in a disrespectful manner. Well, at least I don't think so. You've been a staple in tag team wrestling between Rebel Pro and NAPW. When one thinks of how grueling the tag team ladder is in either of those promotions, one instantly thinks of you two. One of you is a powerhouse, a real mountain to climb, and the other is not only impressive in the ring, but also gifted on the mic. No siree Bob, I have tremendous amounts of respect for you two as far as wrestling goes. Its something else I can't quite put my finger on with you. You could say I feel, well, duped by you, and so are the fans. Don't understand? Deep down I think you do."

Ryan goes over to his nightstand and pulls out..a Mike Knox action figure???

"Now I know you may all be wondering while I pulled out this sad excuse for an action figure, but, like all of examples, there is a point to the madness. Some of you may see a professional wrestler when they look at this fellow, but I know the truth, and the truth is, this is a very ugly bearded lady! Yes, I said it, don't try to deny it Jakks, this is a bearded lady action figure! You can't fool me! I know all of your tricks!"

Ryan, almost like a raving lunatic, is flailing his arms around in a tirade. He then sees himself in a nearby mirror and calms down a bit, clearing his throat.

"So what does this have to do with The Freak Show? Simple. When someone sees the name Freak Show, they don't think of sore losers who can't beat The O'Connor brothers, or two lamewads who have to use imitation opponents to seem dominant in Rebel Pro. No, they think bearded ladies, fortune tellers, Siamese Twins, unicorns, and dare I say, mermaids, and I'm not talking the singing kind from Disney. But you guys don't have any of that, do you? No, of course not! Instead we get idle threats, we get two guys that despite their wrestling talent, are really all hype, without much to show for it. No, I get it guys. I really do. You disappoint people. You disappoint your opponents, you let down whatever fans you have left, and deep down, you let down yourselves."

"I know what you're thinking, there goes ol' KK, acting goofy, not taking this situation seriously, but let me tell you, I take sideshows very seriously. I want to see alien ducks with three feet and an old woman with really long fingernails. That's entertainment. That's impressive. If you two were a true freak show, you'd make tons of money. You'd be famous too. So this is what I am asking, not demanding, because demanding anything would be wrong, but I am asking you the following 3 requests." Number one..

Ryan holds up his right index finger.

"I am asking for you to produce at least one mammal in an odd color pattern. A polka dotted rhino. A plaid colored porcupine. Maybe a striped donkey, and don't you dare try to pass off a zebra as something freakish. A sucker may be born every day, but I won't fall for it."

"Second.."

Ryan puts up his right middle finger with his index finger.

"Something unusual with multiple eyes on it, and not spiders. Spiders are overrated anyways. A snake, a leopard. Heck, I'll even accept a coffee machine with those google eyes glued to them. At least that would show creativity."

"And lastly.."

Ryan holds up his right ring finger to join the previous two lifted fingers.

"If I don't see at least 3 midgets playing music on various body parts, I will be an unhappy camper. If you cannot provide these items, I consider you both frauds, and thus you should change your name. To what? How should I know? Salt N' Pepa? Nah, that's taken. Cookies N' Cream? Nah, too common. Simon and Garfunkel? Hm, now that has a nice ring to it, and if you leave wrestling and become a law firm, it will also work. Man, it really is a good thing NAPW has me around. I think of everything."

Ryan beams proudly.

"Seriously though, you two may believe since you have competed together in a team a lot longer than Bruce and I have that it makes you an instant winner. Of course, this assumption would be completely incorrect, but if its what you need to tell yourselves to feel confident, go right ahead, I won't stop you. Thing is, you frauds, you charlatans, you..uh..bad guys, well, what you don't seem to get is I am hot on the trail of the elusive Canada Cup, and when I get that shiny cup, I intend on doing what every warm blooded American male would do with it. Yeah, that's right, put tons and tons of candy in it. I mean, come on, if you invited friends over for a game night of Apples To Apples and Scattergories, wouldn't they be impressed with a shiny cup of candy with your name engraved on it? I know I would be."

"Bruce is hungry, and not just hungry for one of those 5 dollar footlongs at Subway, though he did mention to me he digs the sweet onion chicken teriyaki, but that's besides the point. He's even hungrier for a win, for a chance to prove to everyone he's not out of this competition yet. Apart, Bruce and I are more impressive, more talented, than you two bozos combined. Together we have the ability to be even more epic than a Harry Potter book tour. Yeah, pretty epic, right? I knew you'd agree with me."

"Three words, one result, victory. VIVA LA KUMQUAT!"

Ryan bounces on the edge of his bed as the camera pans away from him to the Spongebob clock, before fading to black.

[The Freak Show]

[The camera cuts in on The Freak sitting at a computer in a branch of the Edmonton Public Library. What is on the screen is impossible to tell as the camera is just not in position. Whatever it is, it has The Freak somewhat bemused, and a lot amused.]


The Freak: [In a shouting style whisper] Hey, Shut Down, How many midgets we bring with us?

Librarian: SHHHHHH!

Shut Down: [In the same shouting whisper] Um, Two. Why.

The Freak: [In a not so quiet tone] F*ck, Shit, [back to the loud whisper] Sorry.

Librarian: That’s it, you two, Out Now!

Shut Down: Way to go, now I’ll never know if the Hardy’s are as good as detectives as they are in the ring.

[The Freak and Shut Down exit the library laughing as the librarian gives them the frowning of a life time]

Shut Down: Now why did you get us kicked out of the library?

The Freak: Well, it seems that one of our upcoming opponents wants us to bring some midgets to the ring with us.

Shut Down: Well we brought the midgets, so what’s the problem?

The Freak: Well, he asked for three, we only have two.

Shut Down: Shitty, Well I’m sure we can find another one before the match.

The Freak: Yeah but he has to be musically gifted. The Kumquat Kid specifically said he wants them playing instruments.

Shut Down: We’ll just give him a kazoo.

The Freak: Perfect, now we just need to find a mammal with an odd colour pattern and something with multiple sets of eyes.

Shut Down: Why is this so important anyway, we’ve never taken requests before.

The Freak: Because the kid has brought up some very good points.

Shut Down: Such as?

The Freak: Such as us not living up to our own hype, or even the very name we chose when we came into this sport. Hell, lately we’ve been nothing but a watered down version of Jerishow. We used to have fun. Hell, we used to win matches. Now we can’t even buy a win in NAPW. I think we might be over our head.

Shut Down: So what are you suggesting?

The Freak: Well, we need to find our roots again. We need to find that hunger that made us successful when we first broke into REBEL. We need to figure out what went wrong and fix it.

Shut Down: You’re right, something has been missing lately. I thought our trip to Europe was going to help. All it did was send us further down this spiral of self doubt and lost passion. We need help. We need someone who still has the fire for this business. We need someone who can help us beat Richards and The Kumquat.

The Freak: Yeah but who the hell would help us? We haven’t exactly made many friend on either side of the border.

Shut Down: So we ask someone who hates our opponents even more than they hate us.

The Freak: I have just the man to do it. Lets go.

[Fade to black]

[The Freak Show]

[The Scene opens outside the Royal Alexandra Hospital’s Physical Rehabilitation Center in Edmonton, Alberta. The Freak Show is just exiting the building talking amongst each other.]
 
The Freak: Well I’m sure we can find the place. How hard could it be?
 
Shut Down: So, your plan is to go to the west end of a city we know next to nothing about and find a specific warehouse in the middle of a group of warehouses?
 
The Freak: Well do you have any other ideas?
 
Shut Down: As a matter of fact I do. We go online and watch that promo he made before his last match. You know, the one that shows exactly where his warehouse is.
 
The Freak: That is without a doubt the best idea I’ve ever had. To the library! And try not to get us kicked out this time.
 
Shut Down: Me?! You’re the one who started screaming about midgets.
 
/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
 
[Cut to a branch of The Edmonton Public Library. The Freak and Shut Down are hunched over a computer terminal]
 
Shut Down: [Whispering, but loud enough for us to hear] See, what did I tell you? You can even make out the address.
 
The Freak: I told you it was a stroke of genius on my part. Now let's get a cab and see if he’s home.
 
Shut Down: So, do you think he owns the place or is he just squatting there?
 
The Freak: You know, I’ve always wondered that myself. We’ll have to ask him when we get there.
 
[Shut Down gets up and walks over to the checkout desk.]
 
Shut Down: [To the Librarian] Excuse me, could you call us a cab.
 
Librarian: Of course dear, for what name?
 
Shut Down: Robin, Robin Marx.
 
[The Librarian gets on the phone for a minute then hangs up]
 
Librarian: They said anywhere to fifteen minutes.
 
Shut Down: Thanks.
 
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[Cut to The Freak and Shut Down standing outside a large, abandoned warehouse on Edmonton’s west side.]
 
Shut Down: So you gonna knock or what?
 
The Freak: Yeah, I’m getting to it. I hope he’s in a good mood.
 
Shut Down: Would you be? That and just listen to the guys name, I don’t think he’s ever in a good mood.
 
The Freak: Well, we’re offering him a small shot at redemption, I’m sure he’ll help.
 
[The Freak knocks on the door to the Warehouse. For a moment, nothing, then suddenly the door swings open and Former NAPW Heritage and Tag Team Champion, Hostile stands before them. He looks horrible. His right leg is still in a cast, he’s lost what seems to be a very unhealthy amount of weight.]
 
Hostile: What the hell do you two clowns want?
 
The Freak: We have a problem.
 
Hostile: And why should I care.
 
Shut Down: It’s with Richards.
 
[Hostile’s face goes dark. His eyes show a loathing that makes even Shut Down shiver.]
 
Hostile: I’m in. What do you need.
 
[Shut Down and The Freak follow Hostile into the warehouse as the camera fades out]

[The Black Beast]

(Saturday Evening. Although the second episode of NAPW on TFN is airing live from Calgary, Alberta, tonight we find ourselves in the lobby of the Crowne Plaza Hotel in Edmonton, 300 kilometers north of Calgary and the home of Bruce Richards. He is dressed in a very sharp charcoal grey suit with a powder-blue shirt and a gold tie, and he is sitting in one of the leather chairs reading the Globe & Mail. Well-dressed men and women mill about him, with a few bellhops mixed in for good measure. After a few seconds, Bruce flips the paper down and addresses the camera.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Sorry.

(He folds the newspaper up as he continues.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Normally I don't read that rag, but when you're in the lobby of a fancy hotel, you're kind of stuck for reading material unless you bring your own. And when I'm going out for a nice dinner, I very rarely bring a book with me.

(He puts the paper down on the table beside him and folds his hands together.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Now, usually when I'm dressed up on a Saturday night, and heading to a moderately fancy restaurant, it's either because of a big party, or because it's date night with Tiffany. Sadly, tonight's festivities are well below that on the "fun" scale. Not to say that it's not going to be fun! It's just that it's not going to be the same kind of fun. But I'll get to that in a minute.

(Bruce leans back in the chair, almost like he's going to put his feet up on the table, but then looking around, thinks better of it.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: So. The second episode of NAPW on TFN is coming up in a couple of days, and yours truly will be on it. Now, I've been on television for NAPW before: Tuesday Night Fights, a couple of episodes of Action! every so often, and the Pay-Per-Views. But those were all...well, it was local tv. Not knocking the local guys, but really, it didn't really help the NAPW find a bigger audience. With The Fight Network, that's the real opportunity. The NAPW can really make a...dare I say, an impact? On the industry like they never have before.

BRUCE RICHARDS: But it's more than that for me. I have an opportunity, too. A big one. I've been taking a lot of flack lately about my "new angle". As if this wasn't the way I was living my life. As if this was just a story to get me better ratings. Because folks, let's face it: if I wanted better ratings, I wouldn't have gone from a monster who somehow can't manage to win a match to a more well-adjusted guy who still can't manage to win a match.

(He shakes his head.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: And I'm not weakening my case. I know it. My partner knows it. The Freak Show definitely knows it. I haven't won a match since November.

(He pauses, and his face darkens just a little bit.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: November. Now, I've had dry spells before, but this is getting ridiculous. It's almost enough to get a guy angry. Really angry.

(He pauses again. But this time, it's just for effect.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: And I am angry. But I'm not going to get that angry. Never again. Because, and do you want to know the truth? Because back in the days of The Beast, I was afraid all the time. Afraid that I'd do something awful to someone; not to someone who deserved it, a fellow wrestler, but to someone outside the ring. To someone in my family, or to Bill, or to Tiffany. Especially to Tiffany.

(Bruce looks up, but he doesn't look concerned. He looks relieved.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: But now, I'm not worried. And it makes my life easier. It means that for the first time, Tiffany and I can live together in the same apartment. That we can think about the future without my anxiety getting the better of me. And if that means that I've lost whatever "edge" people think that I had, an edge that wasn't actually getting the job done anyhow, then I honestly don't care. Because I know that I can still go into the NAPW ring and put on a great show. Wrestle my heart out. And this time, teamed up with the Kumquat Kid and going up against the Freak Show, with all the eyes of the people in the Ogden Legion hall AND the people at home, then I can really rise to the occasion. Prove to people that Bruce Richards can get the job done that The Beast couldn't. And then I will really have mastered every area of my life.

VOICE: (Offscreen.) Whooo-ee, this is a nice looking place!

(Bruce looks up to see Ryan Lewis, The Kumquat Kid, his dining companion for the evening. He's...well, he's kind of dressed up. He's got on some black slacks and a black sports coat, which is good. But he's wearing red Airwalk hi-tops, a Silverhawks t-shirt, and a giant fur hat with ear-flaps. Bruce stands up to shake his hand.)

KUMQUAT KID: Looking fancy, Bruce.

BRUCE RICHARDS: You too?

KUMQUAT KID: Thanks.

(The Kid looks around the place.)

KUMQUAT KID: So, where's the restaurant?

BRUCE RICHARDS: Top floor.

KUMQUAT KID: No way! Is it like one of those revolving places where you can look out over the city and eat your food while you SLOOOOOOWLY get motion-sickness!

BRUCE RICHARDS: Yes, it's exactly like that.

KUMQUAT KID: Awesome.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Well, you said you wanted to eat somewhere nice, so I figured this fit the bill.

KUMQUAT KID: Do they have chicken fingers?

BRUCE RICHARDS: Maybe?

KUMQUAT KID: Sure they do; every place has chicken fingers.

(The two men make their way to the elevators that will take them to La Ronde.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: So. You looking forward to the match?

KUMQUAT KID: Am I ever! I've never seen a midget marching band up close before.

BRUCE RICHARDS: I don't think it's that kind of Freak Show.

KUMQUAT KID: Oh, but it is! I told them that I expected a good exhibit from them, nothing but the highest-quality freaks, and they're actually trying to pull it off!

BRUCE RICHARDS: So basically they're doing whatever you tell them to?

KUMQUAT KID: I guess so.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Quick, turn to the camera and tell them to lie down and wait for it to all be over.

KUMQUAT KID: Nah, I don't think so. Probably wouldn't work. And besides, you want your first NAPW win in three months to be a gimme?

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Rubbing the back of his head.) I guess not.

(The elevator doors open, and Richards and The Kid get on, along with a fat woman in a blue dress, and old man in a black suit, and the NAPW cameraman, of course.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: (To the old man.) What floor, sir?

OLD MAN: Floor? That some kind of German word, boy?

BRUCE RICHARDS: No, sir. It's English. It means..."floor."

OLD MAN: You punk kids. I didn't fight in double-ya double-ya two just so you could grow your hair long and sass your elders.

(He gestures at Bruce's closely-cropped hair and frowns.)

OLD MAN: Just push the button number 7 and leave me alone, ya hippy.

(Bruce turns to The Kid, who frowns and shakes his head.)

KUMQUAT KID: Shame on you, Bruce, for disrespecting that veteran.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Just push the button.

(The Kumquat Kid goes to the panel, but then his eyes widen. He gazes at the buttons, longingly, and then goes very quiet.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: What?

KUMQUAT KID: Elelator.

BRUCE RICHARDS: ...what?

KUMQUAT KID: Elelator. Elelator go UP!

(And with that, The Kid pushes every. Single. Button on the elevator. It shudders for a moment, then the lights flicker, and we hear a screeeeeching sound.)

KUMQUAT KID: (Coming out of it.) What happened?

BRUCE RICHARDS: I think you broke the elevator, Plucky.

WOMAN: What?

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Soothing.) I'm sure we'll be fine, ma'am. Security's bound to notice something like this.

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER

(Bruce has loosened his tie and the top button on his shirt. The Kumquat Kid is trying to get some reception on his cell phone.)

KUMQUAT KID: I got nothin', Bruce.

BRUCE RICHARDS: Seriously, where the hell is security?

OLD MAN: Don't blaspheme, boy! I didn't go off to fight the Hun just so some young upstart could curse!

KUMQUAT KID: You hear that? He called you an upstart!

WOMAN: Oooh, I'm getting hungry.

BRUCE RICHARDS: I'm sure you'll be fine, ma'am. It's not going to be too much longer.

ANOTHER FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER

(Bruce has loosened another button on his tie; he's starting to sweat and seems a little distracted. The woman's sitting down on the floor. The Kumquat Kid is playing a game of charades.)

KUMQUAT KID: No, no! It was the Hilarious House of Frightenstein! How did you not GET that?!?

BRUCE RICHARDS: Okay, this is getting ridiculous.

KUMQUAT KID: Oh, I wouldn't say it was ridiculous yet. We've still got a few more hours before that happens!

WOMAN: Did he say hours? I can't stay in here for hours. I need to eat.

BRUCE RICHARDS: I'm sure you can handle a few more minutes, ma'am. I mean, it's not like you...I mean, you've got a little extra...errr...

WOMAN: I'm pregnant, you idiot.

BRUCE RICHARDS: ...oh.

KUMQUAT KID: Hey, don't let this situation get you down! The Kumquat Kid can wipe those frowns off your faces!

OLD MAN: Did you say the Cold Kraut Kid? I may be old, but I can still put one more Ratzi in the grave before I go!

BRUCE RICHARDS: KUM-QUAT, sir. It's a fruit.

OLD MAN: You sayin' he's a Fancy Dan?

BRUCE RICHARDS: A what?

OLD MAN: A confirmed bachelor?

BRUCE RICHARDS: I'm sorry?

OLD MAN: A candy-coated quee--

WOMAN: Ooooh, don't mention food, please!

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Rubbing his temples with his hands.) This can't be happening. I must be dreaming. I'll wake up in a minute in bed and Tiffany will tell me not to eat hoagies before bed.

KUMQUAT KID: Like in the Cosby Show!

BRUCE RICHARDS: What?

KUMQUAT KID: We need something to distract ourselves from this situation. Something to take our minds off this.

WOMAN: What would you suggest?

KUMQUAT KID: A sing-along! Singing a happy tune always makes things better. And I'll start.

(He clears his throat.)

KUMQUAT KID: "This is the song that doesn't end; it just goes on and on my friends..."

BRUCE RICHARDS: You. SON OF A BITCH.

HALF AN HOUR LATER

(The old man and the woman have joined in. Bruce is in the corner, gibbering to himself.)

ALL: "Some people started singing it, not knowing what it was..."

BRUCE RICHARDS: I will survive this. I will be strong. I will not, I repeat, will NOT lose my temper...

(The Kumquat Kid looks at Bruce as he says this, then starts singing louder.)

KUMQUAT KID: "AND THEY'LL CONTINUE SINGING IT FOREVER JUST BECAUSE--"

(Finally, mercifully, the elevator doors shudder open. A firefighter and a security guard poke their heads in.)

FIREFIGHTER: Hey folks. We'll have you out in a minute.

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Looking up, tears in his eyes.) Bless you, sir.

TEN MINUTES LATER

(It's all over. The security guard is taking the woman's vital signs as he gets hassled by the old man. The firefighter helps The Kumquat Kid, the last person left in the elevator, to his feet. The Kid dusts off his pants as the firefighter keeps talking to him.)

FIREFIGHTER: It was the strangest thing. The emergency phone wasn't working. Turns out there was a short in the box.

KUMQUAT KID: Yeah. Strange.

(The Kid shakes the firefighter's hand, thanking him, and then heads over to Bruce, who is sitting on his own drinking a cup of coffee.)

KUMQUAT KID: Wow. That was pretty bad.

BRUCE RICHARDS: (Intensely.) Yes. It was.

KUMQUAT KID: I bet you thought it was going to go down pretty bad, huh?

BRUCE RICHARDS: Yes.

KUMQUAT KID: All that frustration...pent up...I bet you just want to let it loose, huh?

BRUCE RICHARDS: I do. I really do.

(He stands up. His hands in fists. And then...he relaxes.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: But I kept my cool in there. I thought I was going to break, what with the old man yammering away, and you being...well, you. But I didn't. I proved that I can keep things under control.

(He turns to his temporary partner.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Thanks, Ryan. I couldnt' have done it without you.

(He claps him on the shoulder.)

BRUCE RICHARDS: Now let's go have some dinner.

(Bruce walks away. Ryan looks disheartened.)

KUMQUAT KID: Well dang it.

(He pulls out his cell phone and dials a number.)

KUMQUAT KID: Yeah, it's me. No, it didn't work. I thought for a second he was going to start clotheslining the rubber plants and playing lawn darts with the veteran, but...he just shook it off.

(Pause.)

KUMQUAT KID: I thought for sure I had him. But now when we going up against Simon & Garfunkel, there's me, the NAPW's unsung genius, a towering man among chumps, powered by charismatic citrus karma, and Bruce "The Bore" Richards.

(Pause.)

KUMQUAT KID: No, he's still a good wrestler. Like I said before: we're each of us individually better than the Freak Show could be complete with bearded lady and ferocious liger. But he's not GREAT anymore. And now they're talking to Hostile.

(Pause.)

KUMQUAT KID: No, Bruce didn't put him down. The Beast did. With him, I thought it'd be easy pickings. But the guy I'm having dinner with...nah, man, we can do it. But I think you'd better deal with this yourself. I can only take so much more of his Power of Positive Thinking nonsense.

(He hangs up the phone.)

KUMQUAT KID: Viva The Beast? Nah. Viva la kumquat, baby.

(He walks off, spirits slightly dampened but still overwhelmingly optimistic, visions of chicken fingers dancing in his head. Fade to black.)


Much thanks to The Kumquat Kid for idea-mongering.