#bob's poly week 2024 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pcwpolwrestling · 28 days ago

Text

11/23-PCW Extreme Political TV

Last Week on Night Two of PCW’s Extreme Election Night 2024 -Wellness checks on Hollywood celebs who threatened to do things if Trump won. No one seen at the airport leaving the country. Bono has not driven his car off the cliff. Rob Reiner has not set himself on fire. -Pulp Fiction Videos: PCW Women’s Champion Catherine Cline and challenger ‘The Ultimate Political Operative’ Kathryn Randall Collins -Don Lemon announces he’s leaving X. -MATCH #1-PCW WOMEN’S TITLE: Catherine Cline (Ind) © defeated Kathryn Randall Collins (Prog Alliance) to retain the title -The View’s Whoopi Goldberg goes to the Concession Stand… what could go wrong there? -Pulp Fiction Videos: The Green World Order and PCW Tag Team Champions Starz N. Stripes and ‘The One Man Anti-Hollywood A-List Stone Chism -Back at The View, Whoopi complains about the Concession Stand -MATCH #2-PCW TAG TEAM TITLE: Starz N. Stripes/Stone Chism (Amer Patriots) © defeated The Green World Order (Prog. Alliance) to retain the title. -Don Lemon puts out a press release announcing he’s leaving X. -A concession worker comes out and tells Johnny Suave that there was a mechanical breakdown and that’s why Whoopi Goldberg’s food order couldn’t be filled. -Wellness checks on the Hollywood celebs. No one has flown out of the country. Bono has not driven his car over the cliff. Rob Reiner has not spontaneously combusted. -MATCH #3-EXTREME HOUSE CAGE MATCH: The American Patriots defeated The Progressive Alliance -One last wellness check reports Eva Longoria has left the country, Bono has not driven himself off the cliff, and the streets of Hollywood are safe from Rob Reiner setting himself on fire. -MAIN EVENT-PCW TITLE: Charlie Blackwell (Amer Heartland) © defeated ‘Mr. Hollywood’ Kevin Daniels (Prog Alliance) to retain the title.

Political Championship Wrestling Extreme Political TV Central Bucks High School Gym Doylestown, PA Saturday November 16th, 2024

Announcers: ‘The Voice of PCW’ Johnny Suave AGE: 50 / HT: 5’ 11” WT: 195 HOME: Philadelphia, PA HAIR: Brown / STYLE: Like Ronnie Dunn / FACE: Goatee DRESS: Brown suit without tie

Colleen Crowder ‘Low-Level New York Times Reporter Trying to Make a Name for Herself’ AGE: 38 / HT: 5’ 5” WT: 142 HOME: New York City, NY HAIR: Black / STYLE: Curly / FACE: Narrow face with rounded jaw, turned-up nose, faint freckles, and thin lips. Bulging blue eyes, thin eyebrows. DRESS: Black pants suit

PCW Champion: Charlie Blackwell (American Heartland) Since 2/10/2024 Contenders: ‘Mr. Hollywood’ Kevin Daniels (Progressive Alliance) Kirk Walstreit (American Patriots) Mike the Mechanic (Main Street USA)

PCW Women’s Champion: Catherine Cline (Independent) Since 9/21/2024 Contenders: Kathryn Randall Collins (Progressive Alliance) Laura Brobert (American Patriots) ‘American Girl’ Sarah Mae Smith (Main Street USA)

PCW Tag Team Champions: Starz N. Stripes and ‘The One-Man Anti-Hollywood A-List’ Stone Chism (American Patriots) Since 3/3/2024 Contenders: The Deplorables: Ray McAvay/’Prairie Populist’ William Daniels Bryan (American Heartland Coalition) The Green World Order: GreenPete/’Extreme Vegan’ Brock Cole Lee (Progressive Alliance) The Sports Entertainment Corporation: Gator Bates/The Alabama Kid (SEC) Bi-Partisan Dream Team: Blue Dog D/RINO Main Street USA: Ken Worth-American Trucker/Farmer John Deer

***

The first match is joined in progress…

MATCH #1: Dave McCormick (-Pennsylvania-American Patriots) vs. Bob Casey (Pennsylvania-Progressive Alliance) The sound of splintering wood echoes through the arena as Dave McCormick slams Bob Casey through a table propped in the corner. The crowd erupts in a frenzy of cheers and boos.

Johnny Suave: HOLY CRAP! McCormick just put Casey through that table like he was made of paper!

Colleen Crowder, seated beside Suave, visibly winces. Her stomach turns at the violence, but she maintains her professional composure and mutters under her breath.

Colleen Crowder: That’s hardly a legitimate political tactic.

McCormick, sensing victory, goes for the pin. The referee’s hand slaps the mat once… twice… but before the third count, Bucks County (PA) commissioners Diane Ellis-Marseglia and Robert J. Harvie Jr. rush the ring, yanking the official away.

Johnny Suave: What the hell are they doing?

Ellis-Marseglia, her face red with exertion, shouts at the referee, “Recount! We demand a recount!”

The crowd boos as the referee reluctantly begins the count again. Casey barely moves, clearly dazed from the impact.

One… Two… The referee’s hand hovers in the air, but once more, Ellis-Marseglia and Harvie intervene, demanding yet another recount.

Johnny Suave: This is absurd! Dave McCormick has Bob Casey pinned but Diane Ellis-Marseglia and Robert J. Harvie Jr are interfering with the count.

McCormick, frustration evident on his face, slides out of the ring and reaches underneath, pulling out another table.

Colleen Crowder: Oh great. Another table.

The crowd roars as he sets it up, their chants of “PCW! PCW! PCW!” drowning out Colleen’s protests.

With a burst of strength, McCormick hoists Casey up and delivers a thunderous body slam through the second table. The impact reverberates through the arena.

Johnny Suave: HOLY CRAP!

Colleen Crowder: Good God, that man has a family!

McCormick covers Casey again, and the referee begins to count. But like clockwork, Ellis-Marseglia and Harvie are there, demanding yet another recount.

Johnny Suave: Again Ellis-Marseglia and Harvie interfere and-

Suddenly, the crowd erupts as Lara Trump and Scott Presler charge down the ramp, steel chairs in hand.

Johnny Suave: IT’S LARA TRUMP AND SCOTT PRESLER!

Colleen Crowder: Oh my. This can’t be legal!

WHAP! Trump’s chair connects with Ellis-Marseglia’s back. WHAP! Harvie crumples to the ground after Presler cracks him in the back the steel-folding chair.

Johnny Suave: It is in PCW.

Casey, miraculously, staggers to his feet. Lara Trump, a gleam in her eye, tosses her chair to McCormick. The metal glints under the arena lights as it arcs through the air.

WHAP! The chair meets Casey’s skull with a sickening thud.

Johnny Suave: OH… HOLY CRAP!

Casey collapses like a marionette with cut strings.

McCormick covers. This time, the referee is not interrupted in making the count. One… Two… THREE!

The bell rings, and the arena explodes in a cacophony of cheers and outrage.

Johnny Suave: He’s done it! Dave McCormick has finally pinned Bob Casey!

Colleen, her face a mix of disgust and disbelief, shakes her head.

Colleen Crowder: This isn’t politics, this is madness.

As McCormick celebrates in the ring, Colleen can’t help but wonder if this spectacle is a reflection of something far more troubling in the current political landscape. The line between entertainment and governance has never seemed so blurred.

***

Opening: PCW!… PCW!… PCW!… PCW!… PCW!… PCW!…

The show cuts to Johnny Suave and Colleen Crowder inside the ring, microphones in hand. The arena buzzes with a mix of elation and dismay, mirroring the stark divide that’s gripped the nation.

Johnny Suave: Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to PCW Extreme Political TV! Tonight, we are at the Central Bucks High School Gym for tonight’s show. I’m Johnny Suave. She is Colleen Crowder, a low-level New York Times reporter trying to make a Name for herself.

Colleen cringes but offers a tepid wave of her hand.

Johnny Suave: Extreme Election Night 2024 is in the books, and boy, oh boy, has the landscape changed in PCW!

Colleen’s lips press into a thin line, her eyes narrowing behind her stylish glasses.

Colleen Crowder: Changed is certainly one word for it.

She mutters just loud enough for the mic to catch.

Suave, caught up in the moment, breaks into an exaggerated shimmy – the ‘Trump dance’ that’s gone viral across the country.

Johnny Suave: We’ve got a new sheriff in town, folks!

Colleen looks like she’s swallowed something particularly sour. This can’t be happening, she thinks, fighting the urge to cover her eyes. Columbia Journalism School did not prepare me for… whatever this is.

Colleen Crowder: Oh, for the love of –

Colleen’s words are drowned out by a deafening roar from the crowd.

Johnny Suave: WAIT A MINUTE! IS HE HERE?

He’s here.

The arena explodes as Donald Trump, flanked by Elon Musk, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., Tulsi Gabbard, J.D. Vance, and Mike Johnson, emerges from behind the curtain”USA! USA! USA!” The chant reverberates through the building.

Colleen can’t resist.

Colleen Crowder: Well, if it isn’t the Avengers of Alternative Facts.

Her voice drips with sarcasm as the Trump party strides down the ramp, basking in the adulation of the majority of the crowd.

Johnny Suave: The once and future CEO of PCW Donald Trump is here tonight!

The new PCW power players settle into their front-row seats, waving to their adoring fans. Trump, grinning widely, throws up twin victory signs.

Johnny Suave: Look at that, Colleen! A true American moment!

Colleen’s gaze drifts to the blue seats, where a pocket of attendees sit stone-faced, arms crossed.

Colleen Crowder: Not everyone’s feeling the love, Johnny,” she observes. “I think those folks up there would rather be at a root canal.

Johnny Suave: Hey it could be worse. You could be watching The View.

Colleen’s eyebrows shoot up, a retort forming on her lips, but before she can speak, the feed cuts abruptly.

***

The View The screen flickers, revealing a visibly uncomfortable Sunny Hostin on the set of The View. Her eyes are wide, darting nervously off-camera as she speaks in a stilted tone ‘legal note’ that she’s been directed to read like a hostage forced to read a message.

Sunny Hostin: In light of recent… developments, I would like to clarify my earlier statements regarding the… legitimacy of certain election results. After careful consideration and consultation with our legal team, I acknowledge that my previous comments were… unsubstantiated.

The feed cuts back to the PCW arena. Johnny Suave claps his hands together, his enthusiasm seemingly unaffected by the uncomfortable interlude.

Johnny Suave: And on that note, folks, we’ll be right back after this commercial message!

***

State of California Commercial California Governor Gavin Newsom appeared on screen with the Golden Gate Bridge outside of San Francisco in the background.

Flashback to 2020 where Newsom dined out with some ‘friends’ inside a swanky restaurant without a mask on while normal Californians were subjected to strict guidelines against large gatherings and ‘staying home.’

Gavin Newsom: Well. Kamala didn’t win at PCW Extreme Election Night 2024 and become the new PCW CEO. That being said, I’m here to tell everyone… don’t forget that California is still open for business!

In the background, an endless parade of moving trucks pass by… leaving California.

Gavin Newsom: “Forget putting your business in rednecky Red State states out in the middle of Nowheresville USA… California is the place where your business should be. California as the home of Silicon Valley, Hollywood, the Pacific Coast, Disneyworld-

Johnny Suave: “Stores closing. Employees laid off. Crap on the sidewalks… literally.

Gavin Newsom: “And-“

Johnny Suave: “Choking regulations driving business out of the state.”

Several moving trucks honk as they drive past towards the Arizona border.

Johnny Suave: “An average California home costs two–and–a–half times the average national home price and the average monthly rent is 50 percent higher than the rest of the country.

Gavin Newsom: “With all that, it’s no wonder that California is the place to be. So come to California, PCW. And, oh, make sure you bring your checkbook…”

**SFX-the screen goes static and crackling**

Little did California businesses know that they were cosigners on the state’s nearly $20 billion loan from the federal government that was used to cover California’s unemployment fund shortfall during the COVID pandemic. This ugly truth became apparent when the state recently decided to stop making payments on this loan. When a state defaults on its federal unemployment insurance loan, federal law requires that the state’s businesses repay the loan.

The state’s decision to default is inexcusable. California recorded a nearly $100 billion state budget surplus last year, thanks to the state’s top earners, that could have been used to repay the debt. The state received $27 billion in federal COVID aid it could have used to repay the debt. The state’s record $300 billion–plus 2022–23 budget could have retired the debt. Even after defaulting, the state could have resumed its payments this year and offset the tax burden on businesses, as it planned to do in its 2023–24 budget. But as the state’s finances continue to decline, the state has walked back making payments or offsetting higher business federal unemployment insurance taxes.

Twenty-two states received federal unemployment loans during the pandemic, and California is just one of four states that have not yet repaid the debt. As of the end of last year, California owed nearly two-thirds of the outstanding $27.5 billion federal unemployment insurance debt among these four states. The other states with remaining unpaid debt are New York, Illinois, and Connecticut, all of which are high-tax and high-spending states that are all losing population to other states. I will let you draw your own inferences about why people are leaving California and these other three states and moving to states with lower taxes, fewer regulations, more economic freedom, and lower living costs.

**SFX-the screen goes static and crackling**

Gavin Newsom: …so you too can live the California dream…

(pause)

Newsom finishes in a low voice.

Gavin Newsom: …and help us pay off our debt.

***

Backstage The camera pans to a backstage area. The husband, Tom, adjusts his “I Pay My Bills On Time” lapel pin while his wife, Sarah, smooths her “Fiscal Responsibility” sash.

Tom (puffing out his chest): Honey, did you see how I paid our electric bill three days early this month?

Sarah (beaming): Oh yes, dear! And I cancelled our streaming services to save an extra $29.99. We’re so responsible!

They high-five, their faces glowing with self-satisfaction.

Cut back to the broadcast desk…

Colleen Crowder: What the hell was that?

Johnny Suave: A young couple doing the right thing. Why?

Colleen Crowder: Why did we need to see that?

Johnny Suave: Why not? Let’s go to the ring for our next match.

***

MATCH #2: The SEC Squad vs. The Buffet Club The arena lights dim, then flare to life as Kimber Marshall’s heels click-clack up the steel steps. She slides under the bottom rope, her wavy brunette hair bouncing as she springs to her feet. The crowd’s roar washes over her like a wave, and she can’t help but grin.

Kimber Marshall: Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for our next match!

She pauses dramatically, brown eyes sparkling.

Kimber Marshall: Already in the ring, we have… The Buffet Club!

The spotlight swings to illuminate two figures: a massive man whose belly strains against his singlet, and a lanky youth fidgeting nervously beside him.

Kimber Marshall: First, standing at 5’11” and weighing in at a whopping 346 pounds – ‘The Big Hungry,’ the ‘King of Buffet Style’… Couch Potato!

The larger man raises his arms, eliciting a mix of cheers and boos. Kimber suppresses a chuckle. He looks like he’d rather be lounging in his namesake than standing in this ring, she thinks.

Kimber Marshall: And his partner, from Chesterfield, Missouri, standing at 6’3″ and weighing 165 pounds… The Order Taker!

The skinny wrestler steps forward, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Do you want fries with that?” he shouts, his catchphrase met with groans and scattered laughter.

Kimber opens her mouth to continue, but a booming voice cuts her off.

Booming Voice: Now hold on just a minute!

Paul Finebaum strides down the ramp, a smug grin plastered across his face. Three imposing figures flank him, moving with the easy confidence of apex predators.

Kimber Marshall: Ladies and gentlemen, coming to the ring, led by SEC apologist Paul Finebaum… The SEC!

The crowd erupts as the new arrivals climb into the ring. Finebaum grabs the mic from Kimber’s hand.

Paul Finebaum: You call that an introduction?” he sneers. “Let me show you how it’s done. These men represent the greatest conference in all of sports!

Kimber rolls her eyes but steps back, allowing Finebaum his moment.

Paul Finebaum: From Gainesville, Florida, standing 6’3″ and weighing 239 pounds… Gator Bates!

The first wrestler steps forward, mimicking the infamous ‘Gator Chomp’ with his arms.

Paul Finebaum: From Tuscaloosa, Alabama, 6’2″ and 234 pounds of pure Crimson Tide… The Alabama Kid!

The second man raises a fist, drawing cheers from a section decked out in crimson and white.

Paul Finebaum: And finally,” Finebaum’s voice drops to a reverential hush, “the ‘Enforcer of the SEC,’ from Cordele, Georgia, standing 6’6” and weighing 295 pounds… ‘Georgia Bulldog’ Brice Brantley!

The largest of the three newcomers growls, baring his teeth in a ferocious grin.

As Finebaum continues to extol the virtues of his team, Kimber catches the eye of Johnny Suave at the announcer’s table. He gives her a wink and a thumbs up.

MATCH INFO: Paul Finebaum’s SEC model themselves as the best of the best. The Buffet Club are always looking for their next big meal.

KEY MOMENT: The match unfolds like a tornado tearing through a trailer park, with The SEC dominating from the start. Bates and The Alabama Kid take turns pummeling The Order Taker, their coordinated attacks a testament to their superior training. Couch Potato, meanwhile, lumbers around the ring’s perimeter, his massive bulk an obstacle the SEC wrestlers can’t seem to overcome.

MATCH FINISH: Inside the ring, Bates and The Alabama Kid exchange a look of frustration. They’ve worn down The Order Taker, but Couch Potato remains untouched. With a simultaneous grunt, they charge at the 346-pound behemoth, attempting to lift him for a double suplex.

Their muscles strain, veins bulging, but Couch Potato doesn’t budge. The crowd’s laughter turns to gasps as Brantley, the SEC’s enforcer, climbs through the ropes uninvited.

Johnny Suave: The Georgia Bulldog’s joining the fray! This can’t be good for the Buffet Club and-

Johnny’s drowned out by the thunderous crash as the SEC trio heaves Couch Potato over the top rope and through a conveniently placed table. The splintering wood punctuates the crowd’s chant: “PCW! PCW! PCW!”

Johnny Suave: HOLY CRAP!

Back in the ring, Bates wastes no time. He grabs The Order Taker, his hands mimicking jaws as he clamps down on his opponent’s head.

Johnny Suave: Gator Chomp!

Bates slams The Order Taker to the mat.

The Alabama Kid tags in, climbing to the top turnbuckle. With a cry of “Roll Tide!” he launches himself into a picture-perfect moonsault. The referee’s hand slaps the mat once… twice… three times!

Kimber slides into the ring, her hair slightly disheveled but her voice strong as ever.

Kimber Marshall: Ladies and gentlemen, your winners… The SEC!

AFTERMATH: As the victorious trio celebrates, Paul Finebaum snatches the microphone from Kimber’s hand. His face is flushed with triumph as he addresses the booing crowd.

Paul Finebaum: You’ve just witnessed the dominance of the Southeastern Conference! In football or in this ring, the SEC reigns supreme. It just means more!

***

Backstage-Joe Scarborough and Mika Brzezinski The camera cuts abruptly to a dimly lit backstage area. Joe Scarborough and Mika Brzezinski stand before a PCW banner, their faces a mix of defiance and unease.

Joe Scarborough: Look, we know our meeting with Trump has ruffled some feathers, but-

Mika Brzezinski: We’re journalists. It’s our job to-

A blur of motion erupts behind them. Keith Olbermann, eyes blazing with righteous fury, swings a steel chair into Joe’s back. The sickening clang echoes as Joe crumples to the ground.

Rosie O’Donnell, her face contorted in disgust, grabs Mika by the hair.

Rosie O’Donnell: You sellouts!

Rosie slams face-first into the concrete wall.

Olbermann, looming over the fallen pair, spits out his condemnation.

Keith Obermann: Not a word Mr. and Mrs. Vichy Quisling say can ever be trusted again – not that those words ever should have been trusted. They are confidence tricksters – and grifters!

Berkeley, California Professor McCarthy strides into the scene, his Flock in tow. The Ultimate Social Justice Warrior’s eyes gleam with fanatical zeal, while the Legion of Anti-Fascists (LOAF #1 and #2), Codee Pink, and Emily S. List flank their leader menacingly.

McCarthy raises his ‘good book’ (a Bible-like book that tells people things that are correct or incorrect to say, think, or believe) high, its gilded edges catching the spotlight.

He thunders…

Professor McCarthy: Behold! The path of righteousness! Joe and Mika have strayed, and they must be silenced! Anyone who strays from the orthodoxy must be immediately shouted down!

The crowd’s boos crescendo, but McCarthy’s sneer only deepens.

Professor McCarthy: Silence, you simpletons! You lack the intellectual capacity to grasp these matters. We, the educated elite, must guide your feeble minds! So shut up and sit down because you people aren’t smart enough to think for yourselves and educated elites like me need to do the talking for them.

As the jeers intensify, Johnny Suave steps in.

Johnny Suave: Whoa there, Professor! Looks like it’s time for a commercial break!

McCarthy’s face purples with rage as the camera fades to black, the boos of the crowd still ringing in the air.

***

Backstage Cut to another man, Dave, ironing his work uniform. He winces, clearly battling a nasty head cold.

Dave (to himself): “Ugh, I feel like death warmed over. But by God, I’m going to drag myself to work anyway!”

He coughs dramatically, then strikes a heroic pose.

Dave: Because that’s what real Americans do! We work, no matter what!

Cut back to the broadcast desk…

Colleen Crowder: What the hell?

Johnny Suave: Don’t you think it’s great that people do good things?

Colleen Crowder: Fine. But why do we have to hear that?

Johnny Suave: I thought you liked virtue signaling.

Colleen turns to Johnny.

Colleen Crowder: I… I…

She throws her hands up.

Colleen Crowder: Whatever.

Johnny Suave: We’ll be back after these messages.

***

Commercial Break The screen flickers to life with a somber piano melody. A disheveled Jimmy Kimmel appears, huddled in the corner of a dimly lit studio.

Narrator: Every day, late-night hosts suffer in silence. Their once-vibrant shows now reduced to echo chambers of despair.

The camera pans across empty seats where Seth Meyers sits alone, feebly attempting to deliver a monologue to no one.

Narrator: With Trump’s victory, these endangered creatures face a crisis. Their ratings plummet, leaving them starved for attention and validation.

Stephen Colbert is seen scrounging through a dumpster marked “Leftover Trump Jokes,” his suit tattered and stained.

Narrator: But you can help. For just pennies a day, you can sponsor a late-night host, providing them with the essential Trump zingers and resistance rhetoric they need to survive.

Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel” swells as the camera lingers on Jimmy Kimmel, tears streaming down his face as he clutches a framed photo of himself with Obama.

Narrator: Please, call now. Don’t let their voices be silenced.

“In the arms of an angel, fly away from here…

***

The commercial fades, replaced by the raucous energy of the PCW arena. Johnny Suave stands in the center of the ring, his booming voice echoing through the stadium.

Johnny Suave: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to PCW Extreme-

Johnny’s eyes suddenly widen, his attention drawn to something above. A chill runs down his spine as he spots the commotion in the Eagle’s Nest.

Johnny Suave: MATT, LOOK OUT!

The camera whips around, revealing Dawn McGill at the production controls. Matt Gaetz lounges nearby, oblivious to the danger lurking behind him.

In a flash, American Patriot Senators Lisa Murkowski (Alaska), Susan Collins (Maine), John Curtis (Utah), and McConnell (Kentucky) descend upon Gaetz like a pack of wolves. Curtis shoves a table in front of Dawn, cutting her off from the melee. McConnell stumbles, inexplicably falling asleep on his feet, blocking Dawn’s path.

Johnny’s heart races as he watches the brutal assault unfold.

Murkowski and Collins rain down blows on Gaetz, their faces contorted with partisan fury. Curtis joins in, his fists a blur of bipartisan aggression.

The senators, drunk on their momentary power, drag Gaetz to the edge of the Eagle’s Nest.

Johnny Suave: Oh, no no no no-

With a collective heave, they send him plummeting towards the arena floor.

Johnny Suave: HOLY CRAP!

Johnny’s scream tears through the arena as Gaetz’s body crashes onto the unforgiving concrete.

The senators pose triumphantly, basking in the shocked silence of the crowd. But their victory is short-lived.

A blur of blonde hair and righteous indignation storms into view, wielding a steel chair like an avenging angel, descends upon the gloating senators.

Johnny Suave: THAT’S PAM BONDI!

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Johnny Suave: BONDI TAKES THEM DOWN ONE BY ONE!

Murkowski, Curtis, and Collins crumple under Bondi’s furious assault.

Johnny, his voice hoarse from the chaos, can only shake his head in disbelief.

Johnny Suave: Ladies and gentlemen, Matt Gaetz was attacked and taken out . But now, they have to deal with Pam Bondi.

Bondi poses over Murkowski, Curtis, and Collins on the ground.

***

Backstage In the next room, a woman named Karen is writing in her gratitude journal.

Karen: I treated the barista like a human being today, just like I aspire to treat everyone with respect.

She looks up, making eye contact with the camera.

Karen: I always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ It’s not much, but I know it’s honest work and I’m sure the barista appreciated it.

Cut back to the broadcast table…

Colleen Crowder: Okay… what?

Johnny Suave: Don’t you love virtue signaling?

Colleen Crowder: Ahhh… yes. But not this.

Johnny Suave: Okay. As you know, Bud Light is trying to regain the market share they lost during a recent ad campaign. Tonight, we debut one of their new commercials and it features PCW wrestlers.

***

Commercial Break The Bud Light Commercial starts with a thunderous explosion.

Johnny Suave: Are you ready for some REAL AMERICAN BEER?

The ground shook and the air fills with the deafening sound of an explosion. The camera pans across a chaotic scene – a monster truck crushing smaller vehicles, driven by none other than ‘Red Solo Cup’ Ray McAvay himself. As he cracks open a Bud Light, foam sprays everywhere in a wild display of his strength and excitement.

Johnny Suave: Get ready for the ultimate American beer experience!

Ray McAvay: This ain’t your daddy’s light beer anymore!

Sarah Mae Smith appears, arm-wrestling PCW Champion Charlie Blackwell. She slams his hand down.

Sarah Mae Smith: Bud Light – for the heartland heroes!

Sarah Mae winks mischievously at the camera while a facetious Blackwell holds his arm.

Sarah Mae Smith: We’re reclaiming this beer for Main Street USA!”

Johnny Suave: Bud Light – now with 200% more FREEDOM!

As if on cue, majestic eagles soar overhead and fireworks spell out “BUD LIGHT” in bold letters of red, white, and blue.

‘Red Solo Cup’ Ray McAvay, ‘American Girl’ Sarah Mae Smith, and Charlie Blackwell chant in unison: “BUD LIGHT – *BLEEP* YEAH!”

*Commercial ends*

***

The crowd roars as Johnny Suave stands in the ring.

Johnny Suave: Speaking of Charlie Blackwell… ladies and gentlemen, here is your PCW Champion… Charlie Blackwell!

Charlie emerges from the curtain, title belt gleaming on his shoulder. The fans erupt, a sea of raised fists and chants of “Charlie! Charlie!” He strides down the ramp, slapping hands with the front row.

As Charlie slides into the ring, he surveys the screaming masses. A grin spreads across his weathered face. This is what it’s all about. The people. Not the suits in Washington or the fat cats on Wall Street.

He grabs the mic from Suave and Charlie’s gruff voice rings out.

Charlie Blackwell: PCW, we did it! We showed ‘Mr. Hollywood’ Kevin Daniels and all the elites that the power belongs to the people!

The crowd goes wild. Charlie raises the title high, basking in their adoration.

Charlie Blackwell: This is our moment. A triumph for the everyman. PCW Extreme Election Night 2024 will go down in history as the night the people took back PCW. The night the people struck back at the elites. Extreme Election Night 2024 was a populist revolt! Blackwell raises the PCW title belt in the air…

Suddenly, two figures vault over the barricade. Before Charlie can react, Neal Conn and Hallie Burton are on him like rabid dogs.

Johnny Suave: What the hell?! It’s Neal Conn- making foreign policy as paramount responsibility of government, seeing the need for the U.S. acting as the world’s sole superpower as indispensable to establishing and maintaining global order! The man who believes America must dominate the world stage!

Charlie stumbles as Conn’s boot connects with his spine. He whirls to defend himself, but Burton is there, driving a knee into his gut.

Johnny Suave: And that’s Hallie Burton- protector of the military-industrial complex.

As Charlie gasps for air, Conn grabs a fistful of his hair.

Neal Conn: Your little populist fantasy is over, Blackwell.

Conn slams Charlie face-first into the turnbuckle.

The crowd’s cheers turn to boos as a new figure appears at the top of the ramp. Conservative Inc’s Steve ‘The Elk’ Elkins saunters toward the ring, a smug smile on his face.

Johnny Suave: Oh no. Not this country club jackass.

Elkins raises a microphone.

Steve ‘The Elk’ Elkins: You simple fools. You actually believe you have power? Let me educate you – money is power. Your pathetic American Heartland Coalition is nothing but a fairytale.

Charlie lunges for Elkins, but Conn and Burton hold him back. The Elk continues.

Steve ‘The Elk’ Elkins: True power will always rest with those who have the money and the connections. Your little revolution? It ends now.

Burton low blows Blackwell. Then Conn lifts Charlie up and sends him crashing down with an Air Raid Crash.

Johnny Suave: HOLY CRAP!

The show ends with the camera focused on Blackwell laid out in the ring with Neal Conn, Hallie Burton, and Steve ‘The Elk’ Elkins standing over him…

***

…well, not yet.

Epilogue The scene cuts to Kamala Harris outside Central Bucks High School Gym. She fidgets nervously, her designer suit looking out of place against the worn brick building.

Kamala (thinking): This is humiliating. I was supposed to be the most powerful woman in the world. Now I’m begging for scraps.

She spots Lindy Li approaching and plasters on her trademark smile.

Kamala Harris: Lindy! So good to see you. I was hoping we could discuss-

Lindy cuts her off with a withering glare.

Lindy Li: Save it, Kamala. You promised our donors the moon and delivered a pebble.

Kamala’s smile falters. She thinks: Keep it together. You’ve faced worse than this.

Kamala Harris: Now, Lindy, let’s not be hasty. We can still-

Lindy Li: We? There is no ‘we’ anymore. You’re on your own.

As Lindy walks away, Kamala slumps against the gym wall, hat in hand, as the show comes to an end.

0 notes