Good vs. Medieval Library


“GvM Invade the WWE”

(2001: It was a sad time for WWF fans as the spotlight angle was Rikishi running over Stone Cold Steve Austin, thus prompting their championship feud. This fic takes place at around that time.)

"Ah, you must be the Assassins of Doom," huffed Al Snow, stopping the four medieval heroes in the arena corridor.

Keno the barbarian grinned nervously and attempted an improvisational promo. "That we are! We'll crunch your bones, then— leave you alone! And you are?"

Snow snickered, thinking it funny that such a question was asked to a superstar wrestler of the WWF. "Crazy," he comically answered. "Those are some nice costumes, by the way. I wonder if Vince is trying to bring back the glory days of the gimmick wrestlers." He made note of Gregor's wizard's robe. "I can tell you right now, that's an excellent tool for provoking the crowd! Once you step into the ring, they're gonna shout, 'FAG, FAG, FAG!' You're gonna be hated really fast around here, uh, what was your name?"

"Gregor," the mage replied sternly. "Are you insinuating that this is a dress? 'Cause it ain't! It's a wizard's robe! And it's a white wizard's robe, meaning I'm a good guy. We're all good guys, fighting for honor and justice, thwarting whatever evil plot that terrorizes the world. With the lives of all those people in our hands, I seriously doubt we'll be hated."

Snow smiled and nodded. "Well, it's good to see that you play your characters with such dedication. Just don't let it go to your heads!" His attention then strayed to the mannequin head grasped in his hand. "What are you talking about?" he argued with the inanimate object. "I knew it was a wizard's robe! I was just telling him that the general public might tease him a little. Don't give me that lip, young lady!"

What a nut case, the heroes thought as Snow carried on his way, still mumbling his hallucinatory drivel. This gave them a chance to huddle together and discuss the emergency at hand.

"Okay, Keno," began Gregor, "Why did that trans-dimensional warp lead us here? This is the craziest place of 'em all!"

The leader explained, "Maybe the Riftmaker is trying to tell us something. Maybe he sent us to this place because there's something here we need to do to fulfill our quest."

"Like a weapon to destroy the evil Snakewoman?" Keeb asked.

"Or," Keno pondered, "The Snakewoman herself is here! We should split up, men! Gregor, I want you and Stumpy to ask around the locker rooms to find out if anyone has seen a lady who is half-snake. Keeb and I will scour through the audience."

"Gotcha," nodded Gregor. "Oh, one more question. Why 'Assassins of Doom?' That sounds so— evil. We're good guys!"

"What difference does it make?" scowled Keno. "It's just a name that fits with this place. Better than 'The Grass!'"

That last comment was directed toward Stumpy, who shrugged and said, "Hey, if 'The Rock' works, why not 'The Grass?'"

Gregor and the dwarf parted company with the others and headed down the corridor. Keno and Keeb were about to set foot in the opposite direction until a man with a beer belly wrapped inside an old T-shirt stopped them.

"Guys, I'm glad you're here," he said.

Keno and Keeb blankly glanced at each other, then at the man.

"I'm the program manager," he said. "There's been a cancellation. The Dudley Boys can't find parking spaces outside the arena, so they're gonna have to be substituted in their match against Too Cool. How's that for the debut of Assassins of Doom?"

"Will it serve justice and benefit mankind?" Keno, the ever caring hero asked.

Puzzled, the program manager replied, "Well, I don't know what Mankind has to do with this unless Vince is planning on bringing him back for some reason— and Justice is with WCW now, so what the hell are you guys talking about?"

The shrugging of Keno's iron-plated shoulders said "I dunno" loud and clear, though it was not voiced.

"I suggest you don't argue with the boss," the program manager added. "So get to the curtain and wait for your cue. You're on in one minute!"

En route to the entrance where they would make their first appearance to the public, Keeb turned to Keno and whined, "You mean we actually gotta fight these Too Cool guys?"

"Not to worry," replied Keno. "I've seen this duo of so-called 'Too Cool!' They're skinny guys; I think they're scarecrow men because they have hay leaking out the tops of their heads. We can take 'em! Hell, they're skinnier than you are! This is just an attempt by that vile Snakewoman to hinder our progress, so let's be done with this quickly."

Standing outside the curtain, Keno and Keeb waited for their cue, which presented itself to the cheering audience in the form of their entrance music. A triumphant "YO HOOOOOO" filled the arena, followed by some metal guitar riffs.

Keno turned to Keeb. "Okay, this is it. Act natural."

Keeb nodded.

Out from the curtain and into the public eye, the two heroes emerged to the ring announcer's intro: "Making their way to the ring at a combined weight of 475 pounds, from the Kingdom of Briton, circa 1090, Keno and Keeb, the Assassins of Doooooom!"

And there they were, sauntering down the aisle way, Keno with his arms fixed in a double-bicep flex, and Keeb playing his jester's role by scuttling about and honking a bicycle horn. Already, a hand-drawn sign from a random audience member was raised, and it read, GREGOR IS A FAG!

Grand Master Sexay and Scotty Too-Hotty, the two members of Tool Cool, waited in the ring. By the expressions on their faces, they did not know what to make of their opponents.

Jim Ross and Jerry "the King" Lawler applied their commentary.

"A rather auspicious debut for the Assassins here," JR remarked. "Is that one of your court jesters, King?"

"Heh, heh! Look at his pink tights, JR," laughed the King. "I'm telling ya, some of these Assassins of Doom ain't right!"

By this time, Keno the barbarian and Grand Master Sexay stood in the ring, ready to square off, their respective partners waiting behind opposite turnbuckles.

The bell sounded, and off they went!

First came a blow by Grand Master, which did not faze the barbarian one bit. Keno retaliated with a fist of his own, sending Grand Master to the mat. Enraged, Scotty Too-Hotty leapt in from his corner, and he too was met with a staggering fist from Keno.

"Keno taking control early on," JR casually remarked.

The barbarian picked up Scotty as Grand Master rose to his feet, and Keno threw his opponent's own partner on top of him, turning Too Cool into a human wreck. The crowd cheered the move.

Keno raced to a neutral corner, jumped onto the middle turnbuckle, and started flexing for the audience, who ate it all up. This fueled the hot-dogging performer.

Back into the fray now, both members of Tool Cool did not stand a chance against the adrenalized warrior. A suplex here, a body slam there, a pile driver, a clothesline— it was all Keno's show!

But Keno was not a selfish fellow. Clutching Grand Master by the hair, he looked at Keeb and offered to make the tag.

Graciously the elf indulged him by putting out his hand, and what happened next was a greatly overzealous slap by the powerful muscle man.

Keeb's hand flamed in pain as he staggered through the ropes into the ring. His throbbing hand was stiff and raw, and his other hand clenched tightly around his wrist. His mouth wide open in trauma, he looked at his hand, then looked at Keno now stationed behind the turnbuckle as if to say, "Why?"

"Keeb favoring that right hand of his," JR passively commented.

With Keeb's attention diverted, Too Cool capitalized. The action was the same as round one, only the tables had turned. Too Cool systematically wailed on the poor elf with flashy maneuvers and quick tags.

"Too Cool working like a well-oiled machine," JR commented.

The King added, "The Assassins aren't making enough tags out there! That's the problem, JR!"

Scotty Too-Hotty had Keeb pinned in Too Cool's corner, with Grand Master looming over the elf's shoulders. Then, he took a quick second to turn around and flip Keno off. This angered the barbarian, and he struggled to get through the ropes, but the referee headed him off and demanded he get back into his corner. As Keno argued with the ref, both members of Too Cool did their dirty work on Keeb in their corner, choking and punching the elf as if it were an alley mugging. Keno's face whimpered and saddened as the pencil-thin ref admonished and sent him back to where he belonged, but the damage to Keeb had already been done. He lay flat on his back at the edge of the mat.

Scotty tagged in Grand Master, and Keeb used this break to scuttle like a crab to his corner. However, Grand Master caught him by the ankle and applied a lock on it. Keeb was halted but so close to his corner that he could almost reach out and touch Keno's outstretched fingers.

Keno saw the signal and drew his hand back, ready to give Keeb's hand a mighty slap. This made the elf reluctant— or frightened for his life, rather— and he decided that the ankle lock was a more endurable punishment. He withdrew his hand and gave in to Grand Master, who swept the elf all the way back to Too Cool's corner.

Scotty was tagged in and immediately won the crowd over by spreading his arms and then hopping around on one foot. They knew what was about to follow.

"Here it is!" the King hollered with excitement. "The W-O-R-M!"

Scotty fell belly-first to the mat and performed his worm maneuver, writhing toward Keeb like a rocking chair on a waxed floor. He stood over Keeb, did some aesthetic axe chops with his hands to the barking of the audience, then delivered a big fist onto Keeb's head! The crowd erupted!



***



Backstage, the search was on for the elusive Snakewoman. Gregor and Stumpy opened at least a dozen random doors so far, but every one revealed a broom closet.

"This is stupid," Gregor griped as he slammed the door. "How many broom closets does an arena need?"

"Maybe we're checking the same ones twice— then twice again," Stumpy suggested.

Gregor slapped him across the face. "Shut up, snapper! I know what I'm doing!"

Lo and behold, the two men had company, for Edge and Christian came sauntering down the hallway in their funky trench coats and oversized glasses. They took one look at Gregor and Stumpy and were taken aback in surprise, but the juvenile grins never left their faces.

Edge poked his brother and remarked, "Hey, look, it's the Great Fagatron!"

"Faggor the Magnificent," Christian followed up.

Gregor looked behind his shoulder then back toward the brothers, wondering what the heck they were talking about. "Say what?"

"Don't get me wrong," Edge jested, grabbing a handful of Gregor's robe. "I think the white mage look is very becoming!"

"Becoming very stankified," Christian laughed, with a nudge to his brother.

Gregor slapped Edge's hand away from his robe. "Don't touch my threads, snapper!"

"Ooh, he called you a snapper, bro," Christian mocked.

"It's cool. Doesn't mean much coming from a spoon like him!"

Christian laughed. "Major spoonage!"

While Stumpy looked on with finger up his nose, Gregor argued, "Look, we ain't got time to be dickin' around with you there, Trixie & Son! We're looking for the heinous and—" he turned to the dwarf. "What's another good word, Stumpy?"

"Grotesquefuliocious," the dwarf replied in a nasal tone.

"—Grotesquefuliocious Snakewoman! You guys seen her around?"

Edge jerked his head back in puzzlement. "Snakewoman?"

"Oh, now I get it," Christian realized. "These guys are like D&D gamers; that's why they look like total nutzoids! Yeah, I know where you can find your Snakewoman! Come with us!"

The two brothers signaled Gregor and Stumpy to follow them. What else could the foreigners do but shrug to each other and oblige?



***



The battle inside the ring was fierce. Scotty Too Hotty lifted a fatigued Keeb off the mat and swung him into the ropes. The elf rebounded, but Scotty amateurishly telegraphed his next move by lowering his head. Keeb stopped in his tracks and out of desperation reached into his jester's costume for some kind of trick. What he produced was a four-foot potted palm tree, which he smashed over Scotty's head in an explosion of dirt.

JR hollered with excitement, "POTTED PALM! POTTED PALM! POTTED PALM! GOOD GAWD ALMIGHTY!!"

Both men's backs were to the mat. Scotty had a major headache, not to mention a flattened hairdo, while Keeb merely collapsed from exhaustion.

Now both men started dramatically pathetic crawls to their respective corners to make their tags.

Scotty, ahead in this turtle's race, made the tag first, and Grand Master leapt in for the chase. But then Keeb lunged toward Keno, and a strong, fervent slap was made to Keeb's hand, flapping it over like a hinge.

The crowd went into hysterics as Keno broke into the ring like a grizzly bear and began tossing Grand Master around like a sack of potatoes.

"Keno is a house of fire!" roared JR. "What a slobberknocker this is turning out to be!"

"He's really getting medieval on Grand Master!" complemented the King.

Again, Scotty tried to come to the rescue by jumping into the ring, but Keno's claw met with his head, and with a fist full of Grand Master's scalp in his other hand, he introduced the two partners' foreheads to each other.

Groggy, Too Cool wobbled on their feet, but not for long; Keno clotheslined both of them over the top rope, flipping them outside the ring.

Meanwhile, Keeb sulked in his corner, nursing his sprained hand.

Keno leapt out of the ring after his opponents, and it was anything-goes after that. First, a shot to Grand Master's head with the ring bell, then a wallop to Scotty with the steel steps. Keno used everything he could find around ringside as a weapon, even one of the ring crew members, who he grabbed by the ankles and swung like a bat over Grand Master's back.

"Keno is the frugal gourmet of the WWF, King," JR commented.

Suddenly the King jolted in alert. "Look out!"

The two commentators ducked, for flying over their heads into the audience was what appeared to be a flailing stunt dummy— no, wait, it was Scotty Too-Hotty! JR's cowboy hat popped off his head in the breeze.

Keno rolled a battered Grand Master back into the ring through the bottom rope and pulled him over to his corner where Keeb stood. Willing to share in the glory, the barbarian put his arm out to Keeb, and the elf was spooked into jumping off the ring apron.

"It looks like Keeb doesn't wish to make the tag," JR noted.

"What's the matter with that clown?" replied the King. "Get in there and finish him off!"



***



In a darkened room, Gregor and Stumpy sat at a table, concentrating on various adventure gaming cards and looking for some kind of clue. The game was unfamiliar to them; they thought they were looking at suspect composites. They saw the Angry Goblin, Ferocious Orc, Semi-miffed Anthromorph, but nothing that matched the Snakewoman.

Gregor leaned toward Stumpy to view his hand, but Edge admonished them. "Hey, dorkuses! I don't know how you guys play 'Mystic: the Powwow' in the land of Stankaphoria, but here, you play it by our rules!"

"Yeah! No peek," Christian added, a wisp of cigar smoke drifting over his head.

Then Farooq said to both of them— well, who really knew what he said!

Bradshaw interpreted, "Hey, let the newbies do what they want! My Super Volatile Fairy Sprinkles will whip all your asses anyway once I put it into play!"

Yes, the Acolytes were in on this highly thought-provoking game as well, but they played for poker chips and beer.

"Not if my Rabid Vorpal Bunny has anything to say about it!" Edge replied.

"We'll see about that, fool!" Farooq maintained his expressionless face as he bit down on his cigar.

Gregor shook his head. "Anybody got a Snakewoman?"

"Whaddaya think this is? Go Fish?" snapped Bradshaw.

Stumpy looked over his cards cross-eyed, swiped his bottom lip with his tongue, and laid down his Snow Sorcerer card. "Uhh, there! My Snow Sorcerer is plus ten over your Flaming Goat Head, which in turn summons the Steaming Soul, who is at the right level to utilize Gregor's Sewing Machine of Doom, which takes out your two orcs and your Underestimated Fluffaloo, causing confusion to your face-up monsters, which allows me to allocate white magic to my Magical Sausage Links, giving 'em a defensive barrier that protects against all Fairy Sprinkles and has the added effect of turning Vorpal Bunnies into Mega Molecular-Combusting Dragons, which destroys all your land, and negates all Futuristic Archaeological Finding cards!" He closed by gathering all the chips on the table into his arms and scraping them closer within his space.

"Damn!" surrendered Farooq, slapping down his cards.

Suddenly the door burst open, and in the doorway stood Kaientai: Taka and Funaki, with a cart full of longnecks. Their arms raised high, their lips started moving, but their dialogue sorely matched.

"Ha ha ha," Taka's phony voice rang out. "I bring beer! Beer, how you Americans say, is what's for dinner, which is quite amusing to me!"

Funaki followed up with, "INDEED!"

Edge, Christian, and the Acolytes simply sat in their folding chairs and blinked at the intrusion, but the silence was broken by Gregor, who, inspired by the treasure trove of dewy, golden beverages, jumped onto his seat and bellowed, "WHAZZUUUUP!" which prompted Farooq and Bradshaw to do the same.

Edge and Christian were too dignified to partake in such shenanigans, so they shook their heads in puzzlement.

"Man, I'm splitting this scene," Edge sneered. "These guys are squarer than a four-sided die!"

"Yeah, these guys are a bunch of doofwads," agreed Christian as he followed his brother out the door. As it closed, a fading comment by the younger brother was heard. "Square? Wouldn't that make them pyramidular?"

Stumpy popped one of the poker chips into his mouth and started crunching on it. "Needs salt!"



***



Concerned for Keeb, who did not seem to want to play anymore, Keno looked at him on the floor and shrugged his shoulders. The elf emphatically shook his head in response; no way was he going to make that tag.

Fearing that Keeb was suffering from stage fright, the barbarian leapt onto the second turnbuckle and stirred up the crowd with a big, friendly smile and rhythmic clapping.

The masses began cheering, "KEEB! KEEB! KEEB!"

The jester looked at the fans, at first in confusion, but then his face began to smirk as if really feeling a sense of appreciation. His fans— his very own following— they really wanted to see him in action, and who was he to let them down? He was convinced; he proudly stepped back up to the apron and reached out his hand to Keno.

Keno, too, felt proud of his elfin buddy, and he let it show in the most powerful, heart-felt slap he could muster.

WHAM!

Keeb's disembodied hand went flying into the crowd and landed onto the hiked-up leather skirt of a teenage girl screaming in fright.

The elf set his eyes on his discontinued wrist, yelled in horror, and looked toward his partner but saw that Keno was again occupied.

"What's this?" the King yelped.

"It's those damn Dudleys!" JR answered. "Looks like they found their parking spot, and they ain't taking kindly to the Assassins taking over their match!"



***



"Kevin Kelley here with The Rock!"

The crowd erupted in the background upon seeing the lax expression of The Rock's face before the interview.

Kevin began, "Rock, do you think you'll get hurt in your match against the forklift at the loading—" But he was cut off by The Rock's hand as it signaled him to shush.

The Rock then leaned closer to the mike and announced, "Finally, the ROCK has come BACK to West Podunk!"

The crowd cheered again, which gave The Rock some time to muster a response. "You see, Kevin Kelley, the question is this: will The Rock get hurt in his match against the forklift at the loading dock, and The Rock says this— Do you like loofah?"

Unsure of what to say, Kevin sputtered, "W-well, yeah, it makes my skin—"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU LIKE LOOFAH!" The Rock bellowed, causing an uproar from the crowd again.

Unexpectedly The Rock's interview was cut short as the background stage setting of a backstreet alley came crashing down, revealing Gregor and Stumpy jumping in a startled manner.

The Rock jerked his head to view them, still maintaining that cool expression of his, and the two sorry-looking heroes met his gaze.

"What in the hell are you two jabronies doing, interrupting The Rock's interview?" roared The Rock. "Do you think that the millions upon millions of The Rock's fans really appreciate you doing that? Huh?"

Intimidated, Gregor stammered, "I, uh—"

"Of course they don't, so do you know what The Rock suggests you do? The Rock suggests you each do one thing! Gregor, mister tee-hee-does-my-ass-look-big-in-this-dress, you can go floss your teeth with a dragon's pubic hair!— And Stumpy, mister duhh-I-want-to-eat-a-crusty-old-piece-of-pie, you can wipe your anus with a sea urchin! What it all comes down to is this: why don't you two little medieval adventurers go out, do your little exploration thing, and find yourselves a magical crucifix—"

The crowd began to stir.

"—But no, I don't want you to nail Kevin Kelley to it and seduce him all night long, no; we'll save that for later! What The Rock wants you to do is this: shine that crucifix up real nice! You know, get that wood all nice and buffed. Then you can take that crucifix— AND CRUCIALLY FIX IT UP YOUR CANDY ASSES!"

As usual, the crowd let out a burst of cheer in response to The Rock's famous catch phrase.

Gregor put his hands up in defense. "Hey, we don't want any trouble here, snapper! We're just looking for the evil Snakewoman! Have you seen her by any chance?"

"You ask The Rock if he's seen a Sna—"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOU SEEN HER!" Stumpy blurted.

"Nice move, See-n-Say brain," Gregor muttered before doing an about-face and running away.

This left the dwarf to endure The Rock's wrath, a Rock Bottom directly onto the concrete floor as if he were spiking a football. Stumpy lay on the floor, seemingly unconscious and kicking his legs for added effect.

As a final punctuation, The Rock stood over the dwarf and hollered, "If you smell-la-la-la-la-la-la-loww— what The Rock— is cooking!"

Suddenly Stumpy sat up with a big smile on his face, for he heard the magic word. "Cooking? Is it boiled dinner?"



***



Just as easily as with Too Cool, Keno dealt with both of the Dudleys, beating them down until they were two lumps on the mat. He then hollered to his partner, "Keeb! I'm getting the table!"

Keeb could not lift his eyes from the void inside his cuff, but the businesslike barbarian sprung to the floor. He flung back the skirt to the underside of the ring where a folding table was stored. Eureka! Nimbly he pulled the table out to the open and began to unfold the four individual legs.

Meanwhile, inside the ring, the Dudleys staggered to their feet and shook cobwebs out of their heads. They looked around and saw that their assailant had left; it was only Keeb in the ring with them now. Ever the opportunists, the Dudleys approached the flustered elf and went to work on him.

Both JR and the King looked on from ringside and winced at all the horrific doings.

"Ooh, a Dudley Death Drop," JR barked. "Followed by a shower cap!"

"I didn't know Keeb's bottom lip could stretch that far," the King followed up. "What did you call that move again, JR?"

"A shower cap! Don't you know any other wrestling moves besides the punch, kick and pile driver?— Dudleys are now getting ready for the cyclist's fireplug takedown! OOH! Jugulars weren't meant to bend that way, King!"

Outside the ring, every time Keno managed to raise the last leg of the table, another would fall. It was very frustrating for the barbarian, but he kept the sequence going.

"The Dudleys are simply hazing Keeb in the ring," JR growled.

And they were doing just that! Devon racked Keeb in place as Bubba Ray, like a boxer playing a xylophone, pounded on the various I-heart buttons on the jester's chest. His smiley-face pins were developing black eyes!

"What are they setting him up for now?" the King questioned.

"Looks like the Boys are getting ready for the Dudley Skidoo!"

"Dudley Skidoo?"

With Keeb's belly flat to the mat and his back arched painfully, Bubba Ray sat on top of him, the elf's long ears gripped tightly in his clutches as if he were riding him down a snowy slope on a mild winter's day.

"Give that guy a Peppermint Patty," the King remarked.

As Keeb fought with the Dudleys in the ring, Keno continued to fight with the table outside the ring. At least one of its legs always refused to cooperate, and the barbarian lost his temper. He kicked it, which made all its legs fall to their folded positions. Keno hunched his shoulders in anger, and in an act of desperation, he removed his blue elbow guard, tossed it into the audience, and dropped the peons' elbow directly in the center of the table. This did nothing to the table, of course, but it helped the barbarian vent. He then lifted the table and threw it into the ring where it was intercepted by Devon, who skillfully propped all four legs and set the table upright in the corner.

Devon wagged his tongue to the audience, cueing them to break out with fervent cheer— until Keno grabbed him and proceeded to pummel him.

Meanwhile, Bubba Ray had everything he needed to finish the job. He situated himself on the top turnbuckle, hoisted the zombie-like Keeb into his arms and brought the elf's crotch to his face. Stuck in that position, the jester was hazy, but he had the mind to utter, "You're a very rude and unpleasant man!" Bubba had a convenient retort for that, and it was in the form of his finishing move. All he had to do was drop Keeb through the table.

Keno threw Devon out of the ring and noticed what was about to happen. He knew he had to make a quick rescue somehow, so he did what was instinctive to him. He raced to the table, ripped it out of the way, and got down on his hands and knees in its place.

Bubba dropped from the turnbuckle, taking Keeb with him, but rather than being sent through a table of forgiving plywood, Keeb's body wrapped around the steel-plated frame of Keno with a crack.

"Did you see that, JR?" the King slobbered. "Keno sacrificed his own body for his partner! What a move!"

Keno rose to his feet as Keeb's limp body slid off him like a blanket, and he noticed the orgasmic stare that Bubba-Ray portrayed. Immediately Keno dipped into his armored waistband and produced a Magic-eye poster, one he had spent the last two weeks trying to figure out, and displayed it in front of Bubba, hoping he could decipher it.

Keeb crawled to his feet, too, knees wobbly, ears wrung and aching, hand gone, and on top of that, his spine felt shattered.



***



The search for the Snakewoman continued backstage by Gregor, armed with his magical staff, and Stumpy, slurping a pot of The Rock's "People's Stew" (WWF cookbook, page 147).

They heard a rumble— a sound familiar to Gregor because in every prior instance it was Stumpy's growling stomach. He turned to the dwarf. "Can't you eat that stuff fast enough to quit making those noises?"

It's not me, though," drooled Stumpy.

"Well, that was obviously the sound of a hungry, barrel-shaped gut if ever I heard it!"

Gregor continued walking forward as he spoke, not paying attention to where he was going. He collided into a round, vertical surface, which he soon discovered was the tub-like belly of the island man, Rikishi.

"Man, I'm hungry," the Samoan growled. "Who do I gotta run over to get some grub around here?" He focused on Stumpy's snack. "Hey, you. Why don't you give that here?"

Stumpy pulled the pot closer to himself and shook his head pitifully.

Then Gregor made a deal. "Say, Butterball," he proposed to Rikishi. "The Stumpman will gladly give you that stew in exchange for some information."

"Information?" Rikishi questioned. "Like what?"

"An evil Snakewoman from another dimension warped into this realm and is trying to elude justice. She is accused of devastating the entire City of the Ancients to rubble, raping the land of its crops and eating all of the livestock! Have you seen her around?"

"City of the Ancients?" Rikishi uttered in an aloof tone before lowering his head. "No. I did it."

Gregor and Stumpy gasped. "Why?"

Rikishi explained, "I did it for Malchezar, the misunderstood alchemist. That city and its inner-circle politics were just hindering his progress to create the 'secret of life' formula."

Before Rikishi could continue, a much smaller, paler man marched up to him and grabbed him by the arm. "Oh, you think you're such a big man, admitting all that," Crash Holly griped. "What? Do you think this is gonna give you a championship push now? No way, man! I did it!"

Gregor and Stumpy were baffled by this confession, and they stared at the two men in debate.

"I did it!" insisted Rikishi.

"No, only a SUPER heavyweight could have done it, and that was me!" argued Crash.

"I was the one who destroyed the City of the Ancients, ate their crops and raped their livestock!"

"No, I was the one who destroyed the City of the Ancients, ate their crops and raped their livestock!"

"Heh! Caught ya, fool!" laughed Rikishi, which made Crash snap his fingers in defeat.

This little skit ended when the camera panned to the left, past the bickering duo and back to Gregor and Stumpy with a new arrival standing next to them, fixing his menacing stare upon them. It was Stone Cold Steve Austin!

The redneck silently leaned closer to the nervous heroes as if about to say "boo," but instead stated calmly, "Say, I couldn't help but overhear you talking about a Snakewoman; am I correct in that presumption?"

"Yes," replied Gregor, overcome by the threatening aura that Stone Cold gave off to many a smaller man.

"Does she have beady, yellow eyes?" Austin asked, pointing to his own eyes.

"Yes." The wizard nodded.

"Sharp fangs?" Austin continued, hooking two of his fingers and placing them near his mouth.

"Yes," Gregor uttered, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his head.

"Attenuated nose?" Austin quizzed, this time with no hand gesture.

Gregor had to think for a second about that one.

"I said, does she have an attenuated nose?" Austin demanded, getting in the wizard's face.

"Yes, yes she does!" Gregor spoke up, nodding like a rattle.

"You wanna stop her, don't ya?"

"Yes."

"Foil her plot."

"Yes."

"Ruin her scheme."

"Yes."

"Clock her with a nine iron topped with stink to boot."

"What?" squinted Gregor, genuinely confused.

"What?" Austin repeated.

"You said, clock her with a nine iron—"

"What?"

"Clock her with a nine iron," Gregor repeated, a little more confidently.

"What?"

"I said, clock her with a nine iron topped with stink to boot!" Gregor howled fervently, swinging his arms like a golfer then mimicking Stone Cold's own beer downing gestures.

Austin glared at the wizard irately, bringing him down from his high. "Don't ever do that again."

"What?" shrugged Gregor.

"Steal my lines."

"What?"

"Take away my thunder."

"What?"

"Infringe on my gimmick!" Austin raised his voice.

"What?"

"You're doing it again, son, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were doing it to deliberately piss me off."

"That reminds me," Stumpy interjected in a soft mumble. "Anywhere I can find a can?"

"What?" Austin asked with his hand to his ear.

"The head," spat Stumpy.

"What?" Gregor verified.

"You're doing it again." Austin pointed to Gregor.

"What?" Stumpy asked, confused.

"He wants to know where the bathroom is," Gregor clarified, mistakenly focusing on the dwarf.

"I don't give a damn about the bathroom, and you're stealing my lines," Austin reminded the wizard.

"What?" Gregor asked.

"You're stealing his lines and something about a bathroom," Stumpy passed on to Gregor.

"I said, he's stealing my bathroom!" Austin tripped up, followed by his own "What?"

"He meant lines!" Gregor returned to Stumpy.

"You're lining his bathroom?" whimpered Stumpy.

"What?" Gregor returned, dumbfounded.

"He said, you're lining my bathroom," Austin repeated. "What, are you deaf?"

"I ain't—"

"What?" both Austin and Stumpy rattled back.

The wizard yanked his hood in frustration and surrendered, "Okay, okay, let's start over. Mister bald-headed man with barbecue and Coffee Coolatta on his breath, where is the Snakewoman?"

"The Snakewoman," Austin taunted.

"Yes."

"The one with the attenuated nose."

"What?" Stumpy began again.

"Stumpy, shut up!" Gregor growled with a pound to the dwarf's helmet, knocking him out of camera range.

Austin continued, "Well, if you'd open your baggy, purple-ringed eyes and take a look at the several hundred monitors scattered around backstage, you'd see she's at ringside right now with your little pajama-wearing friends."

"Ringside, eh?" beamed Gregor. "Sweet! Keno and Keeb are probably fending her off right now!" He looked at the floor where Stumpy lay. "C'mon, bean bag, it's time for the cavalry to rush to the rescue!" Back to Austin, he added, "Thank you, kind redneck, sir! May trailer parks grow abundant all over this fine dimension!"

The wizard picked his comrade up from the floor and proceeded to make haste, but Stone Cold obstructed their path and stared the wizard down.

"AH-HEM," he emphasized. "How's about you finish lining my bathroom first?"

The wizard grinned nervously. "Oh, sure. Here you go!" Then, with a wave of his magic staff over Austin's head, he transformed the badass into an indy fed wrestler with pink spandex pants, acne on his face, and no muscle definition whatsoever— who went by the name "Super Spin Kid."



***



Back inside the main arena, the ring was now clear of all bodies except for Keno, Keeb, and a slutty-looking female in a dress way too tight to accommodate her breasts. A confrontation had already ensued between the barbarian and this woman, Stephanie McMahon, but it was Stephanie doing all the talking— or screaming, as the case was.

"What do you think you're doing?" she admonished Keno without a mic, so only few words could be heard over the commotion of the audience. "You can't just come into this sport and start dictating the pace like you're at the top of the ladder! Who do you think you are, Triple H? You have to start at the bottom and crawl and limp and claw your way up as the writers do everything they can to spit on your characters! You're an embarrassment to the WWF and me because through days upon days of begging and pleading with my dad, I was finally able to sign you guys! You are my responsibility, and you're turning me into a laughingstock!" Her spiel continued, but through her frustration, it just degraded into a stream of bratty screeching and shouting.

Keno nodded with certainty. "Yup! We found her, all right. Prepare to meet your justice, Snakewoman!"

As Stephanie continued to throw her fit inside the ring, Keno ducked through the bottom rope, grabbed his broadsword lying on the timekeeper's table, and rolled back inside to end this chapter once and for all.

However, Keeb stopped him. "No, no," he begged the barbarian. "Remember what Gregor said? That won't work in this dimension! There's only one way to deal with atrocious females around here."

"Oh, right," agreed Keno. "I have to plant a big wet one on her lips— and if that doesn't work, I gotta spank her on the butt. Heh, how stupid does that sound? Where we come from, that would be completely ineffective and something a hero would do only because he's really desperate and doesn't want to admit it, but apparently it's tried and true around here."

"Just do it, Keno!"

"Okay, here it goes!"

The barbarian reached out, grabbed the banshee by her frizzy locks, and puckered his mouth, only to have Stephanie wind up and smack him across the face.

Reeling back a bit, the irate Keno announced, "Oh, so it's plan-A you want after all, eh, Snakewoman?" Then in one swift action, he thrust his sword and sank it into Stephanie's gut to where a foot of bloody steel came out her back.

This was the greatest spectacle the crowd had ever seen, and they let it be known with a deafening roar.

"MY GAWD," JR bellowed. "STEPHANIE'S BEEN BUSTED WIDE OPEN!"

Keno extracted his sword, and Stephanie fell to her knees, clutching her wound. It was then she looked up at him, and her eyes burned toxic yellow, followed by a long, forked tongue slithering through her teeth. An inhuman hiss leaked from her throat as well. The barbarian wanted none of that, so he finished the job by swiping his sword across her shoulders, cropping off the vile demon's head. The Snakewoman's decapitated torso fell to the mat and oozed out a steaming pool of gore.

Victorious, Keno raised his arms and flashed a joyous smile to all four sides of the audience. Anyone could tell that the millions upon millions of fans were pleased by the way they chanted, "USA! USA!"

The King, however, took on a compassionately instigating demeanor at his announce position. "I can't believe that barbarian actually struck a woman! Don't tell me you condone this, JR!"

"Oh, that Jezebel had it coming," the Oklahoman replied. "As you can see, the medical crew is racing to ringside with the stretcher now."

As the two heroes blindly did their showboating inside the ring, several medical personnel loaded Stephanie's body onto the stretcher. They even reclaimed her wayward head and pieced it back together with her torso before immobilizing her whole body in pads and straps. An oxygen mask was added to her snout for extra effect.

The men in white shirts began their race up the entrance ramp until Gregor and Stumpy appeared from the curtain and met them halfway down. All parties stopped in their tracks so that Gregor could get a good look at the casualty. With a nod, the wizard confirmed that it was the Snakewoman lying before him, so to add insult to injury, he latched his fingers to the underside of the stretcher and flipped it onto the floor, giving the demon lady a face full of concrete.

Surprisingly the fickle crowd decided to boo this action.

"Oh, now that was uncalled for!" JR barked. "She was already incapacitated! What kind of a sick lowlife is this Gregor, anyway?"

"HA! Wasn't that great?" the King laughed in support of the heel.

Boggled by the attendees throwing garbage at him, Gregor hurried to the ring, with Stumpy in tow, to meet up with the rest of the team. It was there that everyone shared in high fives, except Keeb, for obvious reasons.

This celebration would not last, however, as familiar music struck up within the arena, and then the ominous lyrics of "No chance in Hell" echoed throughout. All four heroes set their concerned eyes to the entrance curtain.

"Oh, oh," JR commented. "It looks like the Assassins are gonna have a little visit by the boss!"

And there he came, swaggering down the ramp in an expensive, gray business suit— Vince McMahon, owner of the WWF, and he did not look happy. After grabbing a mic at ringside, he climbed the steps and ducked into the ring through the middle rope. The heroes stood by, keeping their eyes on the man and unwilling to make any sudden moves.

The first thing Vince growled was, "YOUUUU" with a stern point of his finger. This gave the audience time to drone with a mixed reaction. Keno and the others all glanced at each other, then back at Vince with innocent looks upon their faces.

"What kind of sorry excuses for professional entertainers are you?" barked the boss. "You're not wrestlers; you're buffoons!"

Although it could not be heard, Keno mouthed an unsavory response and clenched his fist, threatening to pound Vince's lights out, but Gregor placed a calming restraint on his arm.

Vince courageously stepped up to the barbarian and scolded him. "What's with pummeling the crap out of my superstars and hurling them around the ring as if they were Luchadores? I specifically told you how we do things around here, Keno, and that's seven rest holds per power move! These people didn't come here to see action! They came here to concentrate on the soap opera, and they can't do that if they're being distracted by bodies flying around all over the place! Less is more, got that?"

Keno crossed his arms and gave a dubious smirk as the boss turned his focus next on Keeb.

"And you! What's the deal with sexually harassing the fans? Placing your hand on a teenage girl's crotch? What's the matter with you? Thanks to you, I'm faced with another lawsuit! You make me sick, elf!"

All Keeb could do was emphatically sink his humiliated face between the peaks of his shoulders.

Vince moved on to Stumpy next. "And you! You did the most despicable, unforgivable deed of them all." While sweat poured from underneath the dwarf's helmet, Vince droned in utmost disappointment, "You no-sold the Rock Bottom. How is The Rock supposed to be a viable champion if it appears that he can't even take down a four-foot midget?"

Although Stumpy had no idea what the boss was talking about, he anxiously clamped his fingers with his teeth and mentally kicked himself in the butt for his wrongdoing.

Finally, Vince turned to Gregor, looked him over briefly, and said in a rather chipper tone, "You, however, are doing all right! It's nice to see a convincing heel that people love to hate! Welcome aboard, Gregor!"

The two shared in a handshake, and as they did, Gregor blurted, "Thank you very much, Mister Bischoff! I mean—"

Vince pulled his hand away and stared at the wizard in shock as if his eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. There was only one response to this. Raising the mic to his sneering mouth, he told them all, "That's it! YOU'RE ALL FIRED!"

Having all he could take of this farce, Gregor readied his staff. "Oh, no we're not, Bucko! You're fired!" And with that, he shot a ball of flame from his weapon.

Amazingly enough, the spell was deflected by Vince's split-second reflexes as he shielded himself with his magic-dispersing forearm. Angrily the all-powerful businessman retaliated with lightning bolts from his fingers that crashed down at the heroes' feet, making them jump in panic.

"I think we crossed the boss!" Keeb stuttered in fear.

"I'll give him a match," Gregor teased, "but it won't be tonight!"

"FIGHT HIM LATER!" Keno proclaimed, prompting all four of them to trip through the ropes, crash onto the floor, climb over the guard rail, and melt into the audience of hicks and geeks trying to get their faces on camera. Toward the exit they frantically swam, brushing aside outstretched arms and foam fingers.

As Vince gave chase, JR's voice called out over the pandemonium. "What a hellacious night we've had, ladies and gentlemen! This one ain't over by a long shot, I'll bet you that!"

"Mister McMahon just started a feud with four men," the King explained. "That means he can challenge Keno at the Royal Rumble, Gregor at Wrestlemania, Keeb at King of the Ring, Stumpy at Summer Slam, and all four of 'em at the Survivor Series! You watch if he doesn't enlist the rest of his family too. By the time this year is over, we'll all be sick of seeing McMahons on TV!"

"What else is new, King? Good night, everybody!"