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The W - Guest Columns - LotR: FotR Satire Gets MORE KANE (4 of 5)
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Excalibur05
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Since: 19.1.02
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Volume I
Chapter EIGHT
In Which the Fellowship Sets off on Their Journey, Only to Be Derailed by Acolytes

Benoit is packing his tights for the long journey ahead. Shawn Michaels, looking much older and nearly bald at this point, prances in.


Benoit: Oh, hey, Shawn. What’s going on?
HBK: I’ve come with gifts for your trip.
Benoit: Oh boy! Sun block?
HBK: Uh… hehehe, no. I did bring you this steel chair.
Benoit: Hey. Great. A steel chair. Haven’t seen one of those in a while.
HBK: I’ll have you know I used this chair throughout my career. And I wanted you to have it.

Benoit: That’s great. I could use a weapon.
HBK: No, no. If you don’t want it you don’t need to take it.
Benoit: No, I want it! Really.
HBK: No, you don’t. I’m taking it with me.
Benoit: I want it.
HBK: Don’t spaz. It won’t fit in my suitcase anyway. Here also is a mirror vest and matching mirror chaps.
Benoit: Those really aren’t my style....
HBK: Well they won’t fit in my suitcase either, so you’re taking them.
Benoit: Maybe you should buy a bigger suitcase.
HBK: It wouldn’t help. Have you seen how many friggin’ mirror vests I have? Oh… heeeey… is that my belt over your shoulder there?
Benoit: No, it’s Triple H’s actually. Were you ever even Undisputed Champion?
HBK: Yeah. Hey, sure. I had it at the start of this whole thing, right?
Benoit: I guess.
HBK: Here’s an idea. Let me put it on one last time before I officially retire. Take some cheesy pictures of me in it or something. Here’s an idea, I’ll wear it over my crotchal region and then take off my pants!
Benoit: Ew! And no. I’m going to go throw it in some trashcan somewhere.
HBK: Oh, well… SUPERKICK!

Shawn stomps the ground slowly and painfully before throwing a lunging kick at Benoit. He misses by a mile and doubles over in pain on the ground.

HBK: Oh, ow, my back. I’m sorry, Chris. I wish I could go with you. But the fate of the wrestling world is in your hands now. Godspeed, Chris, Godspeed.

The Fellowship exits the locker room to a standing ovation by the other wrestlers. It is said that Mark Jindrak even wept that day. Soon, the Fellowship finds themselves traveling to WrestleMania, in Los Angeles. They make a short stop on a hill in Ohio. Chris Jericho and Christian engage themselves in teaching Eddie and Chavo how to do a proper conchairto (the key is in the legs). The rest of the gang looks on while trying to look cool, failing completely.

Jericho: And you SWING with your hips. See?
Tazz: I don’t see why we don’t just go through the Mississippi. It’s warmer, and, brother, you gotta know I’d like it down there better. Besides, I got a guy down there, Joey Numbers. Yeah, he could hook us up, I bet.
Flair: No! I’m, woo, never going back to that two-bit backwater state ever again! You hear me? NEVER! The Nature Boy doesn’t swing like that.

While Christian is watching this exchange, Eddie and Chavo sneak up behind him and slam him with a conchairto.

Christian: Son of a bitch! OW!
Eddie: You’ve got to use your LEGS, esse.
Dreamer: Do you guys hear something? Like… conformity?
Orton: It’s the Goths!
Tazz: Hide!!

They take refuge behind some bushes as a whole bunch of white-faced kids with black lipstick and “The Cure” t-shirts wander by. If one looked closely, one could probably make out Stephanie and Shane McMahon in their numbers, but it probably isn’t them because that would be silly. They stand around and smoke cigarettes, bopping to some inaudible beat. Then they all complain about how stupid Ohio is and shuffle off, leaving only a black wreath and a hundred bottles of Peach Bartles & James in their wake.

Flair: Aw, dammit. Those were Undertaker’s acolytes. Triple BY GOD H knows we’re here. There’s no going through the Midwest anymore. The friggin’ place is littered with Goths. We’d be mobbed by the Mall of America.
Orton: Daaaamn, I wanted to stop by Abercrombie.
Jericho: Let’s just keep going this way. They’ll all go for Orton and we can make a run for it.
Orton: Hey!
Flair: No, no. We’ll need his ability to just RKO whoever the hell he wants. I’ve got it! WOO! We’ll just head south a bit, through the Appalachians!

Within a day, they’re hiking up a mountain trail, trekking through a bit of odd seasonal snow. Benoit’s wrestling boots slip a bit on the ice, and the resulting trip loosens the Undisputed Title from his shoulder.

Christian: Told you he couldn’t do it! Gimmie gimmie gimmie! I’m sick of stupid midcard titles! Just think about it! UNPRETTIER TO VINCE AT WRESTLEMANIA!
Jericho: Christian, knock it off. You’d suck as champion.
Christian: You think I don’t know that? But come on. A guy can dream, right?
Eddie: Even I-
Fellowship: NO!
Eddie: Pfft.

Christian slaps Benoit’s ass and laughs while Jericho and Benoit share a suspicious glance. Elsewhere, plopped in front of his TV, petting his cat Nibblins and taking a long slurp off a Burger King Chocolate Shake, Triple H watches the proceedings.

Triple H: So. You’re trying to take them across the middle of the United States are you, Flair? Are you so afraid of Mississippi? Do you really not want them to know what happened there? We’ll see about THAT!

Back on the ol’ mountain....

Triple H’s Voice: PEDIGREE TO THE MOUNTAIN!!!

The mountain shakes. Bits of sand and some small rocks fall near the Fellowship.

Eddie: AVALANCHE!
Orton: At least he’s not saying Pedigree to Me.
Flair: Dammit! Hunter, you will not, woo, Get away with this!
Jericho: This whole thing could seriously, like, implode or something, I guess.
Flair: Beg off! You hear me, mountain? You beg off and then poke Hunter in the eye!
Triple H’s Voice: PEDIGREE TO THE MOUNTAIN!

A bunch of mud and dirt slides down the top of the mountain partially burying the boots of the gang.

Dreamer: Are they seriously talking to this mountain?
Chavo: I guess. I don’t know, esse. How can we hear Triple H, anyway?
Benoit: Magic.
Chavo: Huh?
Benoit: Like when you’re on the cellphone, but everybody else can hear it too?
Chavo: Oh… yeah.
Dreamer: We didn’t have that in ECW. We all used tin cans.
Christian: Jesus, let’s get off of this friggin’ thing. We’ll head to St. Louis. Follow the ol’ Oregon Trail.
Flair: Are you CRAZY? I said are you, WOO, crazy? We don’t have enough oxen to make a trip like that!
Christian: Geez, it was just a suggestion.
Tazz: How about this, brotha: we go to Mississippi like I said. We can take the back roads.

Back in Greenwich....

Triple H: Don’t do it, man. Don’t do it. You know what happened there. At that house show. The Fire Still Burns.

On the mountain, Flair looks despondent.

Flair: Benoit, it’s your decision. What do you think?
Benoit: I think I’m getting a cold. Some spicy southern food should do the trick. Naitch, we’re goin’ to Mississippi!
Flair: Damn.

In Greenwich....

Triple H: OH SNAP! You idiot. You guys are in troooooouble! Man, I gotta pee. Nibblins, watch this stuff for me while I’m out. And don’t you dare eat any of it, neither. And if those rappers try to break in and steal my Cristal, bite ‘em in the ankles.
Nibblins: Meow.

Volume I
Chapter NINE
“In Which The Fellowship Tries to Make It Underground, and the Story Finally Gets a Little More Kane”

The Fellowship sits quietly on the banks of a Mississippi swamp.

Jericho: So, let me get this straight. We’re going to go underground.
Flair: Back in the old days, in the time of the territories, we heels would get run out of town. Quite literally. Because we were so - WOO - awesome. So eventually we dug tunnels out of the arenas, so that we could sneak out after our matches were over.
Jericho: I’m just sayin’, that is the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard.
Flair: Yeah? Well tell me that the next time you’ve got a mob chasing after you trying to stab you in the kidneys.
Jericho: All right, all right.
Flair: Now what the hell was the password?
Benoit: What does the inscription say?
Flair: Speak Kayfabe and Enter.
Jericho: You mean the door is triggered to recognize voice commands.
Flair: Uh-huh.
Jericho: And you built this in the 70s?
Flair: I see where you’re going with this.
Jericho: And?
Flair: Stuff it.
Jericho: Hmph.
Dreamer: Tazz, Joey Numbers built this door, right?
Tazz: Yeah.
Dreamer: Shouldn’t you know the password then?
Tazz: Joey Numbers won’t tell me nothin’.
Dreamer: Damn.

Near the water, Jericho’s preparing to throw something.

Chavo: What the hell do you think you’re doing?
Jericho: I’m tired of carrying around this friggin’ hobby horse.
Chavo: PEPE! NOOOOO! I won’t lose you again!
Chavo wades off after Pepe. Back over at the door.
Benoit: Hell, I dunno. Somebody say something in Kayfabe.
Flair: Blade Job.

The door opens.

Flair: That was really lame.
Jericho: So was wrestling back then.
Flair: Touché.
Jericho: Besides, it got the door open. I’ll take it.
Eddie: Yeah, holmes. Let’s get going. Wait. Where’s Chavo?
Flair: He’ll, uh, catch up with us. Let’s forge on ahead! WOO!

The Fellowship Minus One enters the underground tunnel. Ric Flair pulls a flashlight out of his tights.

Flair: Let’s see what we’ve got here.

The floor of the tunnel is littered with the fallen bodies of jobbers who died valiantly trying to get their last paycheck from a bad promoter.

Tazz: Oh, ho ho. That Joey Numbers. He’s such a kiddah. Killin’ all these jobbers.
Christian: I don’t think he’s the one that killed these jobbers, Tazz.
Orton: Oh, snap! Flair, you led us right into a den of heels.
Flair: Well, I mean. Yeah. I even said so. Like ten minutes ago. We’ve all been heels.
Jericho: Right, right, right. But we’re ostensibly a face stable.
Flair: Oh… ooooooh. Damn. Well, out we go.
Eddie: Good, then we can get Chavito.
Flair: That too.

Meanwhile, Chavo is wading out in the swamp chasing valiantly after the floating horse that spins slowly away deeper into the swamp. Suddenly, Batista leaps out of the water and hits Chavo with an OSPREY BOMB!

Batista: You got SERVED!
Jericho: THE BATISTA! BACK INTO THE TUNNEL!!

Before they can escape, Dave grabs Benoit in a chokehold.

Batista: Now I will be the BEST!
Orton: I guess we could call you BESTISTA! Man, I’m so funny. And pretty. Oh, so pretty.

Jericho begins swinging his chair at Dave, who shrugs the shots off.

Jericho: Orton! Do SOMETHING!

Out of nowhere, Randy nails Batista with the RKO. Batista goes down into the water. Chavo and Benoit join the rest of the Fellowship in the mad dash back into the tunnel.

Flair: WOO! I told you we’d need Orton.
Orton: I’m the king!
Jericho: So how long will it take to get to the other side of this thing?
Flair: About four hours.
Eddie: Four hours?
Flair: My knees aren’t what they used to be. And you need a crazy old guy on the journey. So there.
Jericho: Hmph.
Flair: And plus I’m lost.
Jericho: Lost? There’s only one direction. Straight ahead!
Flair: Hmmm… yeah. I guess. Let’s think it over. I call a, woo, caviar break.

Flair plops onto the floor and begins eating caviar and crackers.

Dreamer: Are you all right, Chavo?
Chavo: Oh, Pepe, I loved you.
Eddie: He’s fine, holmes. But if he breaks out in a suit and starts trying to sell you lotion, you let me know, esse.
Dreamer: Of course, Mr. Eddie.
Jericho: Hahahaha. “Mr. Eddie.”
Christian: What are you? Some kind of horse?
Orton: Hehehehe… yeah. Your hair isn’t nearly as pretty as mine.
Jericho: That’s a wig and you know it, Orton.
Tazz: I was just thinkin’ he wasn’t a natural blonde.
Orton: Yes, I am. Shut up. Leave me alone.

Over in the corner with Benoit and Flair....

Benoit: Did you just hear something?
Flair: Hmm, yeah. Bret - WOO! - By God Hart has been following us for a few days now.
Benoit: Really? Shawn should have finished him off. Or Goldberg.
Flair: No, no. He’s still got one last run in him. But will it be as a face or a heel? That’s the question. Fate has yet to judge the career of Bret Hart.
Benoit: That’s probably the most lucid thing you’ve said in years. Hmm. So he still wants the title?
Flair: He’s obsessed with it, as a matter of fact. He just can’t seem to give up. Montreal, Owen, his run in WCW - now the Undisputed Title. Whoops, I’m all out of caviar! Onward! WOOO!

Flair struts at this revelation and then marches forward. Jericho rolls his eyes and waves for everyone to follow the Nature Boy. They soon come upon a large side room, where the heels used to hide their booze and steroids. Now, there’s just an empty keg with a note on it.

Flair: “To whoever finds this: Don’t try to drink out of it. There’s a dead midget inside. Give him a good roll down the hall and into the swamp for us when you have time, won’t you? Thanks, - The Workers”
Tazz: Joey Numbers? Is that you?! OH NO!!

Tazz crumples to the floor weeping.

Orton: I’ve suddenly got a not-so-fresh feeling.
Dreamer: Hey, look! Somebody was writing in their diary right before they… uh… died. There sure are a whole lot of dead people in this tunnel.
Flair: Let me see that. “I can’t believe I didn’t go ov”-yeah yeah. “I’m being treated like a jobber”- uh huh. “Oh no! I’m under attack by heels! They found out that I was secretly dabbling in facedom. Also they’re probably not exactly thrilled that I’m leaking company information and PPV plans. Damn. I think they’re after me and the midget. HELP! They are coming. - Jeff Hard” -er, I mean, uh, “Willie the Worker.” Nice of him to sign it before he died.

Chavo suddenly begins playing a sad song with his maracas.

Flair: What in the-WOOO-what in the hell are you doing?
Chavo: It’s a sad day. Jeff Hardy blows his last spot, the Midget dies....
Tazz: Oh, Joey Numbers!
Chavo: And the loss of my beloved Pepe.
Flair: You didn’t think that maybe, just maybe, they’d be able to, WOO, hear us?

Suddenly, the Theme from the Wolfpack starts up in the distance.

Jericho: Dammit! Come on, get ready to fight. It’s the nWo, so they’re comin’ black ninja style. Benoit, Dreamer, Chavo, Eddie, stick behind Flair.

Flair begs off.

Orton: What about me?
Jericho: Just start throwin’ RKOs until you don’t see nWo guys anymore.
Orton: Oh, great.

Orton runs and hides behind Dreamer. Virgil and Disqo are the first to break through the door and into the room. Jericho and Christian quickly dispatch them with chair shots. Soon, however, the room is filled with wrestlers in black-and-white and black-and-red t-shirts, each patiently awaiting their turn to attack.

Tazz: THIS ONE’S FOR JOEY NUMBERS!

With that, Tazz launches himself headfirst into the mob. He winds up buried somewhere inside Scott Norton. Suddenly, a great rumbling is heard outside. Syxx and Jeff Jarrett step to the side, as a huge figure lumbers into view....

Jericho: Oh… my… god.
Christian: It’s The Giant! Go after his knees!

Jericho and Christian swing wildly at his knees, but it’s all in vain, as Giant punches their chairs back into their faces. Orton jumps at Giant, trying to get an RKO, but he whiffs, and lands somewhere back down the hallway. With renewed confidence and vigor, the nWo rejoins the assault, but they are held off by the kicks and punches of Los Guerreros, the Kendo stick of Tommy Dreamer, the chops of Chris Benoit, and Ric Flair begging off and then poking them in the eye. Eddie grabs Buff Bagwell’s arm and runs along the wall, dropping his legs down onto Scott Steiner’s head, flipping them both. However, as things seem to improve for the Fellowship, The Giant grasps Benoit in his meaty claw and holds him high above his head. He then choke slams him down, creating a small hole where Benoit landed.

Flair: NO! No, dammit!!

Eddie and Chavo run at The Giant, but are big booted back down. Suddenly, Randy Orton rises up from the hall and makes another running jump to try to reach Giant’s head for the RKO. Just as he’s about to miss again, however, Chris Jericho jumps onto Orton’s shoulders and off them, giving him just enough height to nail Giant in the face with the chair. The Giant staggers across the room, stumbles and then falls victim to an RKO out of nowhere.

Orton: Ha-HA! I did it!
Jericho: Great. Great. Oh no! Benoit.

Benoit’s lifeless body lies deep within the hole. Somewhere from inside Scott Norton, Tazz weeps. Dreamer runs to Benoit’s side.

Benoit: Ow.
Dreamer: Master Benoit! You’re still alive.
Benoit: Of course I am. I was wearing… my mirrored vest.
Jericho: That- what?
Benoit: The mirrors shined some light in Giant’s eyes. He didn’t get all of the choke slam.
Jericho: Yay?

The nWo Porn Music fills the halls…

Flair: Jesus Christ… another one?
Jericho: The damn thing just wouldn’t die. And they had like 50,000 members, remember? They even had an nWo in Japan, for God’s sake.
Flair: Japan, huh? Hot damn. Let’s make a break for the bridge!
Eddie: Bridge?
Flair: Yeah. There’s a rope bridge on the way on out of here. Part of the tunnel collapsed into an underground cave in the ‘80s. Barry Horowitz died that day.

They observe a moment of silence.

Jericho: Well, let’s not stand around, to the bridge!
Tazz: A little help? I think I’m trapped… on a rib, or something.

Eddie and Chavo drag Tazz out from the corpse as they say goodbye to Joey Numbers and trek on toward the bridge. nWo members come crawling literally out of the sides of the tunnel, and Fake Sting even falls from the roof before hanging ineffectively for a while. Then… the nWo stops coming. Konan is even lit on fire before he can go. And somewhere, inexplicably, Lillian Garcia is set ablaze. The walls of the tunnel around the Fellowship suddenly erupt in flame.

Christian: What’s going on?!
Flair: It’s Kane. An ancient monstrosity. Brother of the Undertaker and son of Paul Bearer. He is a demon not of this world. We accidentally unleashed him one night. Nobody was responding; we told him to go out and kill the crowd. He lit them all on fire, and wrestling was driven out of this area. It was a complete thing. Anyway, he’s an old and evil power: he does not sell. We should really get going.

The Fellowship breaks out into a full on run, clotheslining all B-Grade nWo members that get in their way. The Fellowship stumbles out onto the bridge.

Jericho: Damn. This whole bridge is pretty goddamn rickety. It’s never going to hold all our weight.
Dreamer: Well, we can’t exactly go one at a time. I mean, Kane, remember?
Christian: New plan. We start chucking people until we’re all across.
Jericho: Excellent. Let’s get started!

Jericho, Christian and Orton toss Benoit over to the other side. Then Eddie. Then Chavo. They struggle mightily, but they get Dreamer across. They reach to pick up Tazz.

Tazz: No, no, no, no. I was the Human Suplex Machine. ECW and FTW Champions. No friggin’ way I’m letting you pretty boys toss me around like this.
Jericho: Could you put your machismo aside for a sec? We’re trying to escape from Kane.
Flair: He’s on his way, by the way. He’s lumbering around at the moment, so, take your time?

Tazz tries to jump for it, but he only gets halfway. He reaches over and grabs one of the support ropes, and it snaps. Tazz swings across to the other side and smacks into the opposite wall.

Tazz: Ow.
Jericho: You made it! Hurray!
Orton: Now it’s time for....

Jericho and Christian throw Orton into the wall on the other side. He grabs onto Tazz who pulls him up. Jericho and Christian walk across. The Fellowship minus Flair sits down and watches an episode of Scooby Doo on a portable television, before an explosion is heard from the other side of the chasm. Flair begs off as he backs onto the bridge.

Flair: WOO! Kane? KANE! It’s me. The NATURE BOY! And I’m stylin’ and PROFILIN’ and you’re not going to be crossing this bridge. You know why? Because if you do, then it’s going to mess everything up for the WWE! I’m going to finish this once and for all!
Orton: Yeah! Start what you finished, Ric!
Eddie: Hey, Randy-
Orton: I know. I know.

Kane rambles his way onto the bridge, which tilts dangerously. Flair chops him.

Flair: WOO! How’d you like that one, fat boy?
Benoit: Ric?
Flair: That’s right. Come on, Fat Boy! I’m the Dirtiest Player, WOO, in The Game! You can’t even beat me! You cannot beat the Nature Boy!

Kane approaches Flair, readying the chokeslam. When he is close enough, Flair drops him with a ball punch, and Kane tips off the edge of the bridge. Flair starts to strut, but Kane grabs the other rope support on his way down and breaks the bridge. Flair flies into the chasm.

Flair: Ooooooooooh-WOOO!-shiiiiiiiiiiii-
Benoit: Oh snap. Ric? This sucks.
Jericho: Well, you’ve got one thing going for you, Chris. He wouldn’t have died for anyone less than you or Lance Storm.
Benoit: Lance Storm?
Jericho: Yeah. Never mind. It’s just this thing. Come on.
Chavo: We’re not just going to leave here like this, are we?
Tazz: What’re we going to do? Go in after him?
Christian: We could at least send Orton.
Orton: Oh, no. I’m waaaaay too pretty to take up spelunking.
Christian: Where the hell did somebody like you pick up the word “spelunking?”
Orton: Word of the day calendar. It was May 5th.
Christian: Oh.
Chavo: First Pepe, now THIS! I can’t believe the kind of week I’m having.

Eddie, Chavo, and Benoit all stumble out of the tunnel in disbelief that the crazy old guy that they’ve been following for weeks now has gone and fallen into an abyss. And not the wrestler, either. An actual, real, honest-to-God abyss. Orton, Jericho, and Christian are completely unaffected, because people are always falling into abysses on RAW. Tazz is stoic, so as to maintain his journalistic integrity. Tommy Dreamer, of course, is bawling.

TO BE CONCLUDED.... ON FRIDAY~!



Tonight I wanna ruin my life,
I wanna throw it all away,
In a spectacular way
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