April 14th - Pre-Xtreme TV Special

[Mark]

TWOStars Xtreme TV in three quarters of an hour on Sky Sports, but first a documentary on Acid Christ.

A montage of hard-hitting spots and comedy segments from Acid's career plays as "Helter Skelter" plays.

Voiceover: Acid Christ... A man, a myth, a legend. Well, not technically a myth. The Oxford English Dictionary defines a "myth", as it pertains to a person, as "a fictitious person, thing or idea," which is obviously not the case. So... Acid Christ... A man, a legend. Ah. The OED has "legend" down as "a person about whom unauthenticated tales are told; a famous or notorious person," so that's halfright.

The montage stops and rewinds before beginning again.

Voiceover: Acid Christ... Definitely a man, possibly half a legend. One of the most popular figures in Sports Entertainment or what they used to call "wrestling". He's two days away from a big moment in his career. He's going to be headlining TWOStar's debut supercard: Wrestlemania. He'll be defending his World Heavyweight title against a man known as the Evil Gringo. We'll take a look inside the man... Well, not literally inside, obviously. We'll not be pushing an endoscope into his crevices or anything. Figure of speech, you know. We'll be taking a look inside the man behind the my- the man behind the half-a-legend. Acid Christ: Wrestling with Shadow Puppets.

The title is displayed and the music fades with the picture to a shot of the empty and brightly lit Staples Center.

Voiceover: It's the day before Wrestlemania and Acid Christ is arriving at the arena.

Acid walks down the rampway and takes a deep breath.

Acid: Ahhhhh... What I wouldn't give for a drink right now.

Director: Nervous?

Acid: Of course not, I just haven't had breakfast yet.

"No drinks! We discussed this!" comes a female voice from off-camera. Madame S stalks into view, frowning.

Madame S: What did you promise?

Acid: That I wouldn't drink this week and that I'd retain the title.

Acid looks a little nervous as he tells her this but she nods and smiles sweetly before planting a kiss on his cheek.

Madame S: That's my boy!

Madame S disappears up the rampway and to the backstage area.

Acid: Oh jeez...

Director: What's the matter?

Acid: See, now... I got her as my manager on-screen but she's also my manager off-screen too. And a demon in the sack. But... I don't know how to put this. She's not smart.

Director: I've spoken to her in the last couple days and she seems very intelligent.

Acid: No, no... she's not smaaaaart.

Director: Sorry, you've lost me.

Acid: You know how wrestling is called Sports Entertainment and not "Sport", right?

Director: Riiiiight.

Acid: She doesn't realise this. I know Gringo is going to be getting lucky tomorrow night but she doesn't. I've promised her a win and I can't deliver on that promise. But she is a demon in the sack.

Director: So is it really going to be that much of a problem.

Acid: Well, as the champion I earn "X" amount of dollars a week from TWOStars, not to mention all the endorsements I have. I've based my lifestyle, and Madame S's pay scale on this "X" figure. I'll be dropping down to "Y" and I'm not going to have as much money. And money is the universal lubricant.

Director: I see.

Acid: Ohhhhhh.... bum.

Acid wanders disconsolately down the ramp, kicking at the power cables strewn across the floor.

We cut to a shot of Madame S in a backstage office.

Madame S: Of course, with Acid's experience in the ring tomorrow night's result is a forgone conclusion.

Director: That's certainly true... in a way.

Madame S fingers a diamond ring.

Madame S: See this? This is what being the business manager of a superstar like Acid Christ brings you. Ah... He's wonderful. A man, a myth, a lege-

Director: *AHEM!*

Madame S: Rich, powerful, a demon in the sack...

Director: You have a lot in common.

Madame S: He's a winner and I like to associate with winners... It's perfect.

Voiceover: But their "Perfect World" was about to come crashing down around their ears. Not literally.

Cuts to adverts.

[Mark]

Back from the advert break. Acid Christ is sat at a desk opposite Darkstar and we view them through the glass panel in the door.

Voiceover: Darkstar, the owner and booker of TWOStars. He's the man who decides who wins... and who loses.

We cut to a shot inside the office.

Darkstar: Igor, I'm sorry but we need a younger, fresher face for the final shot at 'Mania.

Acid: I understand but... I really need the money.

Darkstar: That's just not a good basis for doing business Igor and you know it!

Voiceover: A native of Russia originally, Acid's real name is Igor.

Acid: *sigh*

The door opens and in walks Madame S.

Madame S: You!!

Acid looks aghast at Madame S as Darkstar smiles and welcomes her into his office.

Madame S: Darkstar you son of a b*beep*tch! You lured him here! Acid, quickly, there'll be trouble! He's only brought you here for a beatdown!

Acid looks undecided and then dives across the desk at Darkstar. They topple to the floor and Acid throws a series of wild, worked, but connecting punches to Darkstar's face. With each shot he shouts.

Acid: *I'M!* *REALLY!* *SORRY!* *SHE'S!* *NOT! *BEEN!* *SMARTENED!* *UP!* *EXPLAIN!* *LATER!*

Acid climbs off of the prone Darkstar and Madame S dashes up and takes his arm.

Madame S: That's what you get for messing with my man!

Acid and Madame S leave the room and Darkstar gets slowly to his chair and sits, looking pensively at the wall. All of a sudden the door opens and Acid's head pops through.

Acid: I'm really sorry! YOU STINKING S-O-B! I hope this doesn't affect my chances of retaining. YOU SH*BEEP*T!

He smiles brightly and leaves the office with Darkstar having even more on his mind.

We cut to a close-up of Darkstar sat at his desk, a stiff drink in his hand and a packet of frozen peas pressed to his forehead.

Darkstar: He told you what?! So she doesn't realise it's all...

Darkstar shakes his head.

Darkstar: He's sh*beep*t out of luck, I'm afraid. The show is booked, the result is as good as in the record books. She is not going to like this.

The door opens and Christopher Eagles walks in.

Eagles: Hey boss.

Darkstar: You hear about Acid?

Eagles: I hear he has a fiiiiine manager in Madame S.

Darkstar: Heheh, you know it. Problem is, he's losing the title tomorrow night and it leaves him, er, "financially embarrassed". Turns out Madame S isn't smart to the business and she expects him to win and continue to lavish her with all these expensive gifts and such.

An interesting expression crosses Eagle's face and he slowly rubs his hands together.

Darkstar: No funny business, Chris. He might be a little... odd at times but he's a veteran so you better treat him with respect.

Cuts to adverts.

[Mark]

We come back from the advert break.

A slow-motion, black and white shot of Evil Gringo hitting the Shock Therapy on Acid Christ and covering him for the World Title. We cut to a slow-motion, black and white shot of Acid stumble back through the curtain. Many of the wrestlers are there to offer their support and congratulate him and Gringo on the match. Madame S just stares.

Voiceover: For Madame S, the unthinkable had happened. For Acid Christ, it was time for a drink.

Cut to a shot of Acid in his locker room, laying on the bench, drinking cider through a long tube from a 2 litre bottle of White Magic on the floor.

Madame S: *In a very deadpan voice* What. The f*beep*k. Happened?

Acid: I lost...

Madame S: Do you know who just called? Rice Krispies. They don't want you to do their adverts now. You know how much that job was worth?

Acid: There'll be other endorsements...

Madame S: There won't, Acid. You've blown it. Darkstar told me what's been going on... I can't believe you weren't straight with me.

Acid belches loudly and begins to snore quietly.

Madame S shakes her head in resignation. At this juncture, there is a knock on the door and Christoper Eagles puts his head around the door.

Eagles: Everything okay S?

Madame S: Oh, Hi Chris. I'm not doing so well.

Eagles comes in a places a friendly hand upon Madame S's shoulder.

Eagles: Looks like Acid needs some "Me time" at the moment. What say you and I go and grab something to eat? I've got a table booked at the finest restaurent in town...

Madame S's eyes light up as Eagles starts counting his bankroll.

Madame S: Yeah, sure... Thanks Chris.

Eagles holds the door open for her and, as she leaves, he casts an evil grin Acid's way. Acid rolls over on the bench and mumbles "WTF? Fishbeer?" before continuing to snore.

We cut to a shot of Eagles sat in his hotel suite, a champagne flute in his hand.

Eagles: Me? No, no, nooooo. I just thought she could do with a helping hand. I could see Acid was in a bad way... Having money gives me the chance to do these kinds of things for people - it was perfectly innocent.

In the background we see, although out of focus, what looks suspiciiously like Madame S's head pop out from behind a door before seeing the cameras and retreating quickly.

Eagles: Hmm?

Eagles looks at the interviewer questioningly and then looks over his shoulder at the door. He turns back.

Eagles: Cleaner. Yes. At 12:30am. Naked? That's so they can't steal my money I suppose...

We cut to a shot of Acid, still on the bench. A stream of drool runs down his cheek and lands on the floor of the locker room with a "plib" sound. He mumbles again "Who is your favourite diva?" before rolling off the bench onto the floor.

Freeze frame and roll credits with "Why Can't We Be Friends" playing.

(c)TWOStars