Berner Street Wrestling Resurrected

[Misanthrope]

​

June 2057
Somewhere on the 5th layer of Hell


I stand on the shores of a vast lake of lava with tears welling in my eyes and the dull ache of my 11am whole pineapple enema still throbbing deep within my bowels. To my left, Donald Trump writhes on the crucifix they had the Mexicans build for him. They're now sitting vigil at his feet, eating burritos and occasionally redirecting the wasp hose back into his urethra. He's become quite good at dislodging it with his feeble movements.


How did I end up here?


One minute I'd been doing lines of cocaine off the back of whichever of the Bella Twins I'd rostered on for my noon sodomy and cocaine session, and then my heart had exploded in my chest. My last thought - aside from my disappointment at the fact I'd never get to have my go at the new Tough Enough girls - was that I'd somehow taken a wrong turn on the road to life.


My first turn had seen me die at the hands of Shane McMahon's minions before I could put the WWE out of business.


My second had seen me bring down the juggernaut and make myself something like the Tony Montana of wrestling.


And Rowland never did manage to invent that time machine a second time. In the second reality, the guy was an idiot.


That was all 42 years ago. I've been in hell ever since.


It's not all bad. Satan's a pretty cool guy when he's off the clock, and there's no shortage of drugs or loose women. The pain sucks, but you kind of get used to it.


Why am I crying then?



One of the crueler forms of torture here is being able to glimpse the moments you're missing back in the world of the living.



I've witnessed grandchildren being born, children being married, and another f**king John Cena Jr. title run.


Today, in a fit of absolutely shitbaggery, Satan's deigned to show me the death of the company I built. BSWWE is no more. The empire I'd built has finally been brought low after over fifty years of zany madness. Killed at the hands of Juggalo Championshit Wrestling, the inexplicable last man standing in the world of pro wrestling.



Violent J and Shaggy are watching from beside me.


"Hard luck, CWB," Shaggy says with as much sincerity as he can managed, "You had a good run".


"If it's any consolation," apologises Violent K, "I could have done without seeing Eminem buy our company".


The three of us sit and watch as Eminem's geriatric ass stands in the middle of the BSWWE ring and pisses on the title once held by legends such as Avatar, Spanky, Bee Man, and Sir Quincy Penfold III through VI.


I'm so lost in my misery that I don't hear the other guy approach.


"It doesn't have to be this way, you know". His voice startles me and I let out a girlish manly scream. I spin around and come face to face with somebody I haven't seen in decades.


"Phoenix!?" I ask.


"The very man," he says. He might be smiling. It's hard to tell through his mask.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, "You weren't a bad guy".


"Oh, I was," he admits.


"What did you do!?"


"Cleveland Browns fan," he confides with obvious shame, "I...I..."


He breaks down then, and I can tell he feels the full weight of whatever it is being a Cleveland Browns fan entails. When he stops blubbering into his mask, he speaks again:


"I can send you back".


"But... but... that was just a gimmick. You couldn't really travel through time!"


"Couldn't I, Chris?" he asks enigmatically.


It all starts to fade then. The lake of fire. Violent J and Shaggy giving one another blowjobs. Phoenix clutching his faded Cleveland Browns jersey to his chest.


The wasps crawling out of Donald Trump's ears.


It all fades and then...


-------


August 1st, 2015.
Somewhere in Tanzania


I wake with a start. The stink of diesel exhaust is thick in my room as the generator outside works overtime.


Had it all been some sick nightmare? Had I dreamed an entire life in which I'd been a wrestling promoter, an insatiable poon hound, and an occasional time traveler?


The Cleveland Browns jersey lying on the bed beside me indicated otherwise.
"You need to do it all over again, Chris," Phoenix's voice whispered from a grim future, "You need to start Berner Street Wrestling again... again..."


I grabbed my phone and started dialing immediately.


Sophie: Hello? Who is this?
CWB: It's me, Chris! We need to start Berner Street Wrestling again!
Sophie: Do you have any idea what time it is?
Stu: Who is it, honey?
Sophie: It's Chris, sweetie. Go back to sleep.
CWB: Say hi to Magro for me!
Sophie: He says hi.
Stu: Hi, you mad bastard!
Sophie: He says...
CWB: I heard.
Sophie: What do you want? What is Berner Street Wrestling?
CWB: I can't explain now. Is Murray still rich and stupid?
Sophie: Of course he is.
CWB: Get him on the phone and tell him I need $2,000,000. I'll be there in two days.


I hang up and begin to pack. I've got work to do if I want to avoid going to hell.
---------------
Yes, in a fit of unbridled unoriginality, I'm doing it all over again. The race from backyard to (hopefully) global. The stupid characters, the constant poaching, the sexual innuendo, and everything in between.


If you're not familiar with the source material, the original Berner Street Wrestling was a relatively long-lived backyard comedy diary. When it fizzled/my computer died, I did Berner Street Wrestling Rebooted until I got distracted by moving overseas and finally losing my virginity.

While I can't guarantee regular updates (I travel for a living, so sometimes I'll disappear for a month or so), I've got plenty booked and a lot of fun stuff in the pipeline. It'd be good to have you along for the ride.

--------------------

Berner Street Wrestling Resurrected

​

The Roster

• Sir Quincy Penfold VII: The seventh (technically fourth) incarnation of everybody's favourite British bastard, this version (played by Iain Morris) is a far more accomplished in ring worker at the expense of a little charisma and menace.
• The $100,000 Man, Mike DiBiase: Not quite as rich as his daddy, but still a good deal wealthier than anybody in the company or in the crowd. A frankly average wrestler who gets by on his name alone.
• 'Megastar' Luke Robinson: The Tough Enough season five runner-up is by far our best-known worker and his natural arrogance make him a good choice to play a self-proclaimed 'megastar'.
• Zumba: A Brazilian-born luchador. He'll be playing a happy-go-lucky fitness instructor type. I don't foresee a bright future for him.
• KrackerJak: One of Australia's more accomplished wrestlers has worked matches with the likes of Darth Vader, so he should be no stranger to being forced to do things that might embarrass a more sane man. Our most talented in ring performer by a fair stretch.
• Sodomy Hussein: He's putting the fabulous in fatwah. Our rampantly gay, heterophobic Islamic terrorist is sure to outrage virtually everybody in the known world.
• Ryan Barton: Ryan Eagles appears as the generic Aussie everyman because sometimes you need a likable, inoffensive straight man.
• Skid Row : Another BSW favourite and three time original, Skid Row is this time portrayed by Nightmare Manson. While he's not the high flyer previous incarnations have been, he makes up for it with a good deal more charisma and the fact he looks legitimately homeless.

Once again I'm joined at the coal face by the long-suffering Sophie as my personal assistant, my good friend Magro as my production assistant, my rich friend Murray as financial backer, and a few other luckless losers as my staff.

Let's see if I can't keep myself out of hell.

Berner Sreet Wrestling presents Backyard Bonanza 2015


Professional wrestling comes to Berner Street as Berner Street Wrestling brings you some of the world's most obscure professional wrestlers fighting in a 31 year old dude's back yard for a plastic title!


The $100,000 Man, Mike DiBiase will face off with Skid Row for the right to contest the first ever (in this reality, at least) Berner Street Wrestling World Title. Can DiBiase's wealth overcome the sheer desperation that only a homeless man can understand?

'Megastar' Luke Robinson squares off against the dancing fool, Zumba. Will he be another Disco Jesus? Or can he Bee Man his way to mild fame?

Aussie hardcore icon KrackerJak will put Aussie pride on the line in his bout with Sir Quincy Penfold VII, the Queen's chosen emissary to Berner Street. Will the blue-blooded Brit taste the dreaded Britney Spear? Or will KrackerJak feel the wrath of For Queen and Country?

Average Aussie, Ryan Barton will have his work cut out for him as he steps into the square circle against Sodomy Hussein. Will the menacing (but impeccibly dressed) heterophobic extremist bring about a glittery new age of terror?

The four winners will then face off in a four corners match to decide your first BSW champion. Who will stand tall at night's end?​

 

[Misanthrope]

August 1st, 2015

This being my third time starting the same wrestling promotion, the minutia have become old hat to me. Buy a ring, hire whatever sad locals have sunk low enough to be satisfied with performing in front of a few people, have my kid brother hand out fliers, and set up the plastic chairs.

Still, no matter how many times I've done it, there's still a sense of nervousness in the quiet moments before a show begins, Slowly, the arena that is my backyard starts to 'fill up' and by fill up, of course, I mean that four people show up. My kid brother, two of his idiot friends from D&D, and an elderly woman who seems to have mistaken this show for a potluck.
Good three bean casserole though.

Heart pumping in my chest, sweating like a black guy in an American police station, I push aside the curtain and open the show...

BSW Presents Backyard Bonanza 2015

​

- Segment One: The Seventh Coming of Sir Quincy Penfold -

The show opens with yours truly on his way out to the ring looking pretty damned dapper in a suit. Locking eyes with all four of our audience members, I begin to speak.

CWB: Ladies and gentlemen, tonight is indeed an auspicious occasion.

I pause for effect and am unsurprised to hear crickets chirping. This is the country, after all.

CWB: Yes, tonight is indeed an auspicious occasion because tonight...

Rule Britannia hits and the smarmy, blonde-haired British lad by the name of Sir Quincy Penfold VII makes his way out to the ring, pausing occasionally to bow to the empty seats that line the entrance 'ramp' (the stretch from the back door to the ring).

SQP: I'll take it from here, Carl.

CWB: It's Chris.

SQP: I'm sure it is, my good fellow. Run along now.

Acting sheepish, I retreat to the safety of the shadows to watch Berner Street Wrestling 3.0's first promo.

SQP: I believe it is customary to begin such speeches with 'ladies and gentlemen', but that seems rather a lot of formality for what appears to be a trio of delinquents and the town's oldest resident. I must bid you congratulations, old woman, it can't have been easy growing up in this barbaric wilderness. My mind quivers in revulsion at the things you must have seen in this pitiable corner of the world. It has been a feat of either strength or utter, stubborn stupidity that has brought you this far. My figurative hat comes off to you, old timer!

The old lady doesn't appreciate the attention, and begins to boo. Our first boo! Squee!

SQP; That's the spirit, old timer! Give me hell! Let me be the effigy for the shining nation of Great Britain that exiled your toothless ancestors to this godforsaken kitty litter tray of a country! Boo me and find catharsis in having vented your frustration on your betters. Do downtrodden labourers not mutter dissent about the foreman while he's away? Does the student not whisper to his classmate while the teacher's back is turned? Boo and be glad that my, nay, our fair Queen does not hear. Boo and feel some reprieve from what I imagine must be the arduous task of simply existing in this filthy sty of a country. Let me be a symbol for you - not only a symbol of the great nation that sent your thieving colonial forebears here, but a symbol greatness that can be aspired to. Look upon me and see a man who has come up from the mean streets of Kensington Palace Gardens. See me and realize that I too have had to struggle. Why, I had to make do with an education from Cambridge.

He shudders visibly.

SQP: Yes, I endured the trials and tribulations of a Cambridge education and look at me now! I've overcome the trials life has thrown my way and I am now a shining beacon of greatness. If I could achieve that from my lowly starting point, you could be anything! A cleaner! A courtesan charging $5, no, $10 for a toothy blowjob behind the nearest tavern! You could father bastards, young man! You, old woman, you could someday afford a ticket out of this dusty town. You could visit another, slightly less dusty town! Look to me, lowly plebians, and see the inspiration that you need to get you through the day. Look to me as your country looks to Great Britain and hopes to someday attain something resembling relevance. I am your saviour, Australia!

He places the mic gingerly into the hands of the referee, bringing to a close this 49% rated segment.

- Segment Two: Sir Quincy Penfold VII versus KrackerJak for a place in the main event -

Sir Quincy is soon joined in the ring by Australia's very own KrackerJak, who comes out to his bizarre entrance music (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbDW8-Md6jk).

The mad, bearded bastard hits the ring at speed and the match gets underway immediately. The sheer intensity of the wild man's attack puts SQP7 on the back foot from the outset, and the three boys in the crowd love it to the tune of 33% . It's actually the best match of the night too, with the two brawling around the ring to produce a 65% rated match and a 49% overall. While Sir Quincy tries his best to get his dukes up and battle it out in a gentlemanly fashion, the insane man is having none of it - using everything from biting, head-butts, and eye gouges to get in control. He's eventually able to pick up the 1-2-3 and book himself a place in the main event following the brutal Britney Spear.

WINNER: KrackerJak by Britney Spear (Spear)
OVERALL: 49%

- Segment Three: Meet the Megastar -

"The Future Legend" and self-proclaimed 'Megastar', Luke Robinson is out next. If anybody wasn't aware of who he was, he's wearing a Tough Enough t-shirt and pauses frequently to gladhand to the crowd and draw their attention to the shirt.

Like Mr. Charisma before him, he's become an immediate favourite of Sophie's.

CWB: You know he's starred in gay porn, right?

Sophie: Oh, you're so bourgeois, Chris. Who hasn't dabbled a little?

CWB: Uh... me, for one.

Sophie: Bourgeois! Right, honey?

Stu: I...uh... am not comfortable with this line of conversation.

CWB: Magro! You didn't!?

Sophie: Oh, don't be so close-minded, Chris. Stu and I share everything.

Stu: I still cry myself to sleep some nights.

Gay porn or no, Luke is cutting a ruggedly handsome figure as he enters the ring and removes his sunglasses. As if he's hearing applause that isn't there, he gestures for quiet. The crickets oblige.

Luke: Ladies and gentlemen, I envy you. What it must feel like to sit out there and feel the goosebumps rising on your skin with the realization that this is actually happening. No, ma'am, this is not some fevered dream. Boys, you are more than welcome to take photos to send to the girls at your school, Who knows? Maybe they'll be so impressed they might let you get your grubby hands up underneath their tissue stuffed bras. Wouldn't that be a rush?
My idiot brother obliges him and takes a photo.

Luke: Snap away, kid! If you've got to endure being Chris' brother, you might as well reap what few rewards the relationship conjures up. Bring your phone up here later and I'll sign it.

(Note to self: Do not leave my brother alone with Luke)

Luke: But for now, we have far more pressing concerns. Whether through oversight or gross incompetence, my guaranteed place in tonight's main event has somehow been overlooked. Instead, I'm supposed to face some dancing fool by the name of 'Zumba'. This is a rare treat for you again, ladies and gentlemen. Not only do you get to see me wrestle in the main event, but you get to see me give this Brazilian kid the highlight of his life too. Bring the boy out here and let's make him famous.

I may not like the way he looks at Sophie (or my brother for that matter), but Luke delivers the goods with a night high 65% rated segment.

-- Segment Four: 'Megastar' Luke Robinson versus Zumba for a place in the main event -

The masked Brazilian certainly shows plenty of energy and enthusiasm as he dances/exercises his way down to the ring, but he's so boring that the crowd actually start cheering for the cocky heel. In a mercifully short match, Luke Robinson lives up to his promise by beating the hapless luchador around the ring before putting him to bed with the Superstar Kick.

WINNER: 'Megastar' Luke Robinson by Superstar Kick
RATING: 43%

- Segment Five: The $100,000 Man, Mike DiBiase versus Skid Row for a place in the main event -

Clashes of style and character don't come much more extreme than this. While Mike DiBiase comes down to the ring wearing a (rented) suit and sporting a pair of (Thai knock-off) Ray Bans, Skid Row has to be shaken awake from his place sprawled across a few of the empty chairs. He makes a ruckus as he upends a number of empty longneck beer bottles on his way to the ring.

If the way he smells is any indication, he consumed them and then pissed them all over himself sometime before he fell asleep.

This state of foul-smelling dishevelment gives him an early advantage against the clearly disgusted son of Ted DiBiase, and he even gets a near fall following a springboard tornado DDT that lifts the crowd to the tune of 31%. The near miss seems to energise DiBiase, however, and he begins to battle back with every dirty trick in the book. The end comes when he's able to put Skid Row down with the Tax Deduction, a Randy Orton-esque overdrive. The match was a passable one (59%), and DiBiase showed some signs of potential in the win.

WINNER: The $100,000 Man, Mike DiBiase by Tax Deduction
RATING: 45%

- Segment Six: A Jihad on Breeders -

It's a real mishmash of stereotypes on the way out to the ring, as Sodomy Hussein rocks a glittery keffiyeh, a netting singlet, and tight leather pants. He does the standard stereotypical Muslim thing by bowing to... is that a portrait of Kylie Minogue he's bowing to!?
The boys in the crowd, racist young Aussies that they are, instinctively know that this means they should boo.

I know, it's disgusting.

Sodomy: Praise Kylie! Glitter is good! I look out over the crowd tonight and I want to throw up. I see a sea of disgusting breeders! The world is full of people starving and you selfishly contribute to the problem. You people are what is wrong with the world! You people deny us our right to get married, yet you marry at 21, sign up for Ashley Madison at 22, and divorce at 23! I won't have it! I declare a fatwah on hettys! Praise Kylie! Glitter is good!

Well, that happened. Nobody's quite sure how to react to this 60% rated segment

- Segment Seven: Ryan Barton versus Sodomy Hussein -

Sporting a blue singlet, a Southern Cross tattoo, and an Australian flag cape, it's hard to tell whether we're supposed to cheer for Ryan Barton as an Aussie patriot or boo him as a nationalistic racist.

It's a confusing time to be an Australian.

Still, there's no doubting he's the good guy against the weird mishmash of evil homosexual and evil foreigner, and the crowd quickly gets behind him when he offers to shake hands. Hussein looks dubious but shakes, only to catch Barton with a dastardly slap! The scoundrel! The knave!

Barton takes offense, and from here it's a rather sound beating for Hussein. It looks like it'll be an open and shut match, but Hussein eventually uses the framed picture of Minogue to knock some sense into Barton. The ref calls for the bell, but Hussein isn't done. He locks in a rather... thrusty camel clutch until Barton passes out.

WINNER: Ryan Barton by DQ
RATING: 45%

- Segment Eight: The $100,000 Man, Mike DiBiase versus KrackerJak versus 'Megastar' Luke Robinson for the BSW World Title -

There's a sense of... what comes between indifference and enthusiasm? Well, that's in the air as we head into our main event. The crowd are at their most enthusiastic for this match, and they're firmly behind the unhinged Aussie brawler as he headbangs his way out to the ring, whispers to the Barbie doll he brought with him, and then begins to gyrate in the corner.

Robinson and DiBiase are considerably less popular with the fans, and they compound this by immediately ganging up on the bigger man. Despite his size, KrackerJak spends much of the match's early moments on the back foot as he's double teamed by the dastardly duo. It's only when he's barely able to move that they begin to squabble over who will make the pin.
DiBiase tries to buy off Robinson with the generous offer of $20, but Robinson slaps the money away and responds with a picture perfect dropkick. The two then begin to slug it out, allowing KrackerJak a much needed reprieve. They trade near falls - DiBiase hitting the Tax Deduction and Robinson nailing a diving elbow drop at another point. This last move could have brought an end to the 63% rated match were it not for KrackerJak dragging the referee out of the ring and planting a big, wet kiss on the poor guy's lips.

Robinson tries to bring an end to the nonsense with a baseball slide, but finds himself dragged out of the ring and big swinged into a row of empty chairs. He breaks two too, which is going to cost me.

KrackerJak roars to the crowd and gets them psyched up, but he's caught from behind by DiBiase with a reverse neckbreaker. He goes for the pin, but the starry-eyed referee is too dazed to count it. Not that he would have, given they're out on the lawn and not in the ring.
DiBiase and KrackerJak then participate in a fun back and forth that sees the big Aussie slowly getting in control. He's all set up for the Britney Spear just as a bruised and beaten Robinson returns to the ring. DiBiase coolly dodges the incoming freight train, but it near cuts Robinson in half. KrackerJak finds himself drop-kicked from behind and tumbles out of the ring. DiBiase cover!

1
2
3!

The $100,000 Man, Mike DiBiase is your first ever Berner Street Wrestling World Champion!

WINNER AND NEW BSW CHAMPION: Mike DiBiase by accidental Britney Spear
RATING: 48%

The night ends with DiBiase hurriedly taking his belt and going out to celebrate with the crowd by giving each of them a coupon for a nearby restaurant. If they check, they'll see that the coupons are only good when used with another fully paying customer.
He didn't make his first six figures by being a chump.

KrackerJak, for his part, is too busy trying to give Luke Robinson CPR to notice that he's lost the match.
----

OVERALL RATING: 49%
ATTENDANCE: 4
BEST SEGMENT: Sodomy Hussein is weird
WORST SEGMENT: 'Megastar' Luke Robinson v Zumba
MVP: 'Megastar' Luke Robinson

 

[Misanthrope]

In the wake of our first show's massive $40 gate, I treat the staff to whatever they like off the McDonalds $2 menu.


CWB: Good first show, guys.


SQP7: There must be a gulf of difference between your defintion of 'good' and mine, sir! I felt the show went sharply downhill at the conclusion of the second segment. A completely redundant affair from there on out. Much like the world post 1945, come to think of it...


KrackerJak: Mumbles incoherently.

Skid Row: Hey Zumba, are you going to eat that?


Zumba: Que?


The $100,000 Man: I think he means the sauce on the inside of your cheesburger wrapper.


Zumba: Que?


Sophie: Aren't you Brazilian? Don't they speak Portuguese?


Zumba: O que?


SQP7: Barbaric people, the Portuguese.



KrackerJak: Mumbles incoherently.


CWB: Anyway, we're meeting today to discuss the card for the next show. So, Zumba, you can go?


Zumba: Porque?


Sophie: Isn't that Spanish?


KrackerJak: Actually, Sophie, there exists a high degree of commonality between the languages. Much like Dutch and Afrikaans bear remarkable similarities to one another, so too do Portguese and Spanish share a number of root words and common expressions. It's just one of the many fascinating elements of linguistics.


Zumba: Foda me!


CWB: Close, Zumba, close. I am actually 'disparando voce'.


Zumba: Merda!


KrackerJak: Tengo un gato en mis pantalones! Estoy rabioso!

Berner Street Wrestling Presents Keg Party

​

In honour of our second show, Murray was kind enough to put on a keg for the guests in attendance. It's a good thing he did too, as our attendance almost tripled to a respectable 11 people. I have a sneaking suspicion that putting FREE BEER on the fliers might have had a bit to do with that. It looks like half of the audience is the forward pack to the local rugby team.


-- Segment One: Customary Heel Gloating --


The show opens like every episode of Raw ever, with the $100,000 Man making his way down to the ring with a beautiful woman on his arm. This is Ms. Carmichael, a statuesque African American woman wearing her best business attire and a pair of glasses that automatically makes her seem both professional and insatiably sexual.

​

The fishnets take away from it a bit, admittedly, but I'm a pig.


Her presence has certainly drawn the attention of the footballers in the crowd, who are only to happy to whistle and shout inappropriate things at her as she clears her throat and takes up the microphone.


Carmichael: Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you your better, your inspiration, your benefactor, your Berner Street Wrestling Champion!

The $100,000 Man bows graciously and waves away the applause he hears inside his head.


Carmichael: Last month my client and mentor, Mike DiBiase, overcame all the odds to bring some much needed prestige and class to this two-bit operation. He overcame not only what I can only assume was one of your own foul-smelling number, but also a psychopath and a proven world-class athlete on his way to adding some gloss to a belt that must have been found in the bargain bin at a local goodwill.


How did she know that??


Carmichael: The $100,000 Man is not one to rest upon his laurels. He could have retired to his caravan on the coast and had all of the moderately priced wine he desired. He could have taken a business class flight to an affordable tourist destination and spent 7-10 days in a medium level resort. He didn't! My client, Mike DiBiase, has spent the last month training and preparing himself both mentally and physically for tonight's title defense against that unhinged lunatic, KrackerJak.


My brother and his friends cheer on cue. They've earned their 50 cent McDonalds soft serves.


Carmichael: I don't know what mental health professional cleared this penny-licker to wrestle, but let it be known that my client is stepping into the ring with him under duress. Should anything happen to him as a result of KrackerJak's clear state of mental confusion, we will be forced to pursue legal action just as soon as my client is able to secure a loan with which to employ a skilled attorney.


With her piece said, Carmichael holds open the ropes so that her client can exit the ring. A solid 63% rated segment that did a lot for both Carmichael and DiBiase's stock.


-- Segment Two: Trikki D versus Skid Row --


Out next is Berner Street Wrestling's newest addition, Aussie wrestler and party animal, Trikki D. The blonde haired, blue eyed young buck dances down to the ring with glow-sticks flaying about and Skrillex blaring from the CD player, high-fiving anybody whose hand is within reach.


Once he hits the ring, he immediately pops a pill (a tic-tac, as I can't afford the real thing) and shotguns a beer.


Trikki D: Let's get this party started, bitches!


'This party' is a match against the company's resident charity case, Skid Row. The fans aren't quite sure who to cheer for, as both appeal to the loser and/or party animal in them. It doesn't much matter, as both men bust out their best high flying moves to get the adrenaline pumping and get people into the show. It's a 68% quality match that sees the competitors flying around the ring as if they'd both taken a stimulant pre-match.


Ultimately, it ends with Trikki D hitting Something Special (a corkscrew senton) from the top rope for the 1-2-3. Skid Row hasn't gotten off to the best of starts here in Berner Street Wrestling 3.0!


WINNER: Trikki D by Something Special
RATING: 44%


-- Segment 3: A Formal Complaint --


Out next is Sir Quincy Penfold VII, who struggles manfully with the task of wrestling one of the plastic chairs into the ring so that he can sit on it and look most displeased with things.


SQP7: Tonight, faithful peasants, I am the bearer of grim tidings. Many of you, no doubt, came out tonight in the vain hope of seeing true wrestling greatness grace the ring. Mayhap you heard tales of my majesty from those who were in attendance here last month and wished to gaze upon my visage for yourselves. If that is the case, I am indeed a harbinger of woe. You see, slack-jawed colonials, I have not been scheduled to wrestle tonight.


He lets that sink in for a moment, pausing to wipe tears away from his eyes and send up a silent prayer to the heavens.


SQP7: I know, I know - it pains you all. No doubt you've spent the past thirty days counting down to the moment when you could see me bless some local buffoon with the kiss of my right fist - the Duke of Destruction or my left hook - Lady Painbringer. Alas, the corpulent ninny in charge of this company has chosen to -


His whining is brought to a grinding halt as AC/DC's Thunderstruck cuts in. This immediately gets all of the increasingly inebriated rugby players on their feet, and we have to play the song to completion lest we have them tear the place apart.
Out with the music is Australia's own Ryan Barton, who sports his Australian flag and a cocky grin.


Barton: Mate, I don't mean to interrupt your pity party, but I think I might have a solution to what you're going through. Y'see, Chris left me off the card too.


SQP7: A wise move, no doubt, you unwashed scoundrel! Off with you!


Barton: Nah mate, you're not hearin' me. I'm sayin' you and I can have a match. Australia versus England, mate! Just like the Ashes! Just like the Rugby World Cup!


This brings a cheer from the rugby guys, who have warmed to Barton immensely.


SQP7: Ah, I see how it is! Little brother wants a chance to tangle with big brother, eh? You're hoping some of my greatness might rub off on you. Is that it?


Barton: Mate, I don't want you rubbing off anywhere near me. Keep it in your pants. I'm saying I want a match. Or are you chicken?


SQP7: (Spluttering with outrage) Chicken? I.... you... you have insulted my honour, you miscreant! Bring yourself down to this ring posthaste. I am going to give you a harsh lesson in respecting your betters, sir!


These two deliver a fairly solid 48% rated segment.


-- Segment 4: Ryan Barton versus Sir Quincy Penfold VII --


There's no doubt where the 28% crowd reaction is for this one, with the rugby guys leading 'AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE' chants and booing pretty much everything Penfold does. For his part, he showboats whenever he hits a move and sells like a champion whenever Barton responds with one of his own.



Despite Barton's bravado going into the match, Penfold's scheming and general underhandedness gives him the upper hand in this one. After he's able to catch Barton with a dastardly low blow, he rolls him up with a handful of tights (O! The humanity!) to secure an unjust 1-2-3.


WINNER: Sir Quincy Penfold by dastardly heel tactis
RATING: 51%


-- Segment 5: KrackerJak speaks! --
Tonight's #1 contender is on his way out now, Barbie Doll in one hand and the other pumping in the air along to his catchy entrance them. The crowd get into it pretty quickly a well, because catchy things are popular with idiots.


Just ask One Direction fans.


Using small words.


KrackerJak plants a tender kiss on his Barbie and sits her atop the ring post before grabbing the microphone


KrackerJak: WHATSHAPPENINGMOTHERf**kERS?HOWTHEHELLAREYOU?WHATISHAPPENINGINYOURLIFE?AREYOUEATINGPLENTYOFVEGETABLESANDCUTTINGDOWNONSATURATEDFATS?


Nobody is quite sure what to make of this machine gun delivery, but the wild-haired man composes himself with a few deep breaths before speaking again.


KrackerJak: Sorry. I'm sorry. I just get so... excited before a match. My heart races, my junk gets all sweaty, and I get a little... aroused . No homo or anything, but it's just like that. I think about all of the ways I'm going to twist and break and hurt my opponent and it gets me turgid. I'm like Arnold Schwarzenegger when he's working out. Putting my opponent in pain is like having an orgasm for me. My toes curl, my eyes roll back into my head, and I speak in tongues. Except instead of a white, chlorine stinking facial - the guy gets put on his back courtesy of Britney (he gestures to the Barbie) and pinned 1-2-3.



He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.


KrackerJak: When I pin the $100,000 Man tonight, I'm going to need one of these. I'll be so f**king post-coital I might even think about cuddling.


He lights up, takes a deep puff, and heads back into the house. Not a bad segment, drawing a 59%.


-- Sodomy Hussein versus 'Megastar' Luke Robinson --


I really didn't think putting these two in the ring together through. Hussein, who is without his Kylie Minogue portrait today, looks starstruck as he steps into the star of several LGBT erotic films.


If Robinson appreciates the fandom, he certainly doesn't show it, however. Instead, he works out some of his frustration from last month's loss by beating the poor guy up. For his part, Hussein seems to be enjoying the roughness until a face wash messes up Sodomy's hair. This sparks something in the rampant heterophobe, who puts his man-crush aside to start lighting up Robinson's well-oiled chest with hard chops.
Things quickly devolve from here, and the battle spills to the outside where the two heels can be booed mercilessly by the fans. The referee has no choice but to count them out as they battle into the house, up the stairs, and into what looks like my bedr-


f**k!


RESULT: Double Count-Out
RATING: 40%


-- Segment 7: The $100,000 Man, Mike DiBiase (c) versus KrackerJak for the BSW World Title --


I missed the entrances and opening minutes of this match, as I spent it standing at the locked door to my bedroom begging the two of them to at least take my favourite blankie off the bed before knocking boots.


Luke had the decency to toss it out into the hallway before the real grappling started.
Out in the ring, DiBiase is doing his level best to avoid grappling as he continually rolls to the outside to 'catch his breath' and avoid KrackerJak's anger. Or maybe he's just suspicious of KrackerJak's motives after hearing his promo earlier...


Being outside of the ring puts the $100,000 Man in KrackerJak's chosen element, however, and soon DiBiase is bleeding after being tossed bodily into a pile of empty chairs. With blood running down his face, he retreats to the ring where he hides behind the referee. Outside, Ms. Carmichael 'accidentally' spills what looks like hot coffee in KrackerJak's face. Blinded, he staggers into the ring and right into a brutal clothesline. DiBiase follows it up with a scoop slam and heads to the top rope for what looks like it will be the Money Shot.


Wait! KrackerJak is to his feet and he quickly leaps up to the second rope. OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY!


Wiping coffee from his eyes, KrackerJak points to Barbie Britney in the corner and signals for the Britney Spear. But here's Ms. Carmichael again to protect her client's interests by putting herself between KrackerJak and DiBiase.


Britney isn't having any of this! KrackerJak throws her at Carmichael, who makes a show of wrestling with the obviouly inanimate child's toy as if they were having a cat-fight. The rugby boys love it, and DiBiase uses the distraction to rake KrackerJak's already tender eyes and double him up with a fireman carry of doom. He transitions this into an old school sleeper hold, which gets the customary two arm drops before KrackerJak rallies. He battles to his feet, hits some hard elbows, and puts DiBiase down with a running powerslam. Psyching himself up further, he again signals for the Britney Spear.


Here it comes...


... he HITS IT!


He near cuts DiBiase in half!
1
2
WAIT! Ms. Carmichael has well and truly earned her paycheck! She's dragged the referee out of the ring and he's got no choice but to call for the bell!


WINNER: KrackerJak by DQ
RATING: 53%


The fans in attendance aren't happy with this (or maybe they're just outraged that the keg ran out), and neither is KrackerJak. He locks DiBiase in the Beast Choker until the BSW Champion is blue in the face, and only the intervention of the entire locker room (minus the two staining my sheets) saves DiBiase from an untimely demise! DiBiase will walk away as champion, but KrackerJak looks like he has unfinished business and a nasty case of blue balls!


OVERALL RATING: 51%
ATTENDANCE: 11
BEST SEGMENT: Ms. Carmichael makes her debut
WORST SEGMENT: Sodomy Hussein versus 'Megastar' Luke Robinson
​MVP: KrackerJak