Thunder Scrooged Part 1

Post by SportsEntertainmentXpress on Dec 15, 2020 7:51:06 GMT -6

The following announcement has been paid for by the Nefarious Wrestling Outsiders.

Static on the screen fades to show Terry Marshall in a Santa hat and coat, the arms are cut off the coat to show the 24” anacondas. In the background there is snow, at least it looks like snow because the scene is black and white.

Yo, yo, yo, it's the star of the show, "Too Sweet" Terry Marshall. And brother, I can tell it is Christmas time because when I look around the GCWA all I see is HO!

HO!

HO!

We even got a bearded fat man and his band of merry elves.

We've got our own Tiny Tim back for the Righteous Rumble.

We've got our own version of the Griswold family.

*INSERT GROUP PHOTO OF LEGACY*

And then you got me, the Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer of the rumble. Everyone used to laugh at me and call me names, and never wanted to let me join in their bad guy games. But then one Halloween night brother it was time for a change, and I became the leader of the most nefarious group of them all, the Nefarious Wrestling Outsiders. We captured the tag team championships and have made life for SOTF a living hell.

Now, brother, it’s time the NWO captures the crown jewel, and you know for something that big you pull out the big guns.

Cut to Marshall posing, Marshall must pose. Cut back to Marshall standing beside a leg lamp looking it up and down before looking to the camera.

The NWO has set its sights on the grandest award of them all, the world title, and we have proven with the tag team titles that when we set our minds on something, we get it, Jack. Now we are headed for the big gold baby, and I won’t let any man, woman, or tranny stop me from taking this rumble and then taking the championship. What better way to have a Merry Christmas than by guaranteeing my shot at the title, and what better way to have a happy New Year than by becoming the new world champion?

We got people coming from all over the globe and from out of retirement to try and win this rumble, and I’m going to send them all packing back to where they came from with their tails between their legs Jack. This is Terry Marshall’s house, and this is the land of the NWO.

There might be some jabronis trying to claim the throne, but let me tell ya, something dude, WE’RE IS TAKING OVER!

Cut to Madness and Dark Lord air-guitaring the tag team titles. Cut back to Marshall standing in front of a Christmas tree, and holding a gift box.

I got a gift for James Raven and the rest of Legacy.

Marshall reaches into the box and pulls out an hourglass.

It’s to remind you that your time is slowly running out and that when I win this rumble and then take that championship that the era of Legacy will be over and dead. Then there will be a new ear, a new order, a new world order in the GCWA. The era of the NWO, the era of the Nefarious Wrestling Outsiders.

And if you ain’t down with that, I got two words for ya, Jack. STICK IT!

Focus on the sand slipping through the hourglass. Like sands of the hourglass, these are the days of our lives.

Now for story time.

Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the Marshall house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Except for Terry Marshall whose wife had banished him to the couch. Tipsy from spirits Marshall stubs his toe and shouts, "ouch".

Terry lays his head down on his pillow, while a vision of a Righteous Rumble victory dances in his head. Marshall is awoke by something that sounds like a sled. Was some tweaker seeking money for Sudafed? Or a home invader who would find himself dead? Practicing the 2nd amendment, you heard what I said.

From the garage rang such a clatter. Marshall jumped from the couch to see what was the matter. Grabbing his gun from the safe, ready to leave a splatter. Marshall opened the garage and saw a toppled ladder. Marshall sighed and went back inside to empty his bladder.

Another crash in the garage, Marshall knew someone was there. He ran to see who was there but tripped on the top stare. When he opened his eyes Marshall couldn't believe what he saw, it was Giant Pierre with his big bushy hair.

Brother, I thought you were dead, I must have really bumped my head. "I'm here to give you a warning," the Giant said.

I know this will give you a freight, but you will be visited by three ghosts tonight. They will give you a freight, but also valuable insight. Marshall is powerful, but with all his might he shed a tear as his friend faded out of sight.

Back to the couch, Marshall would retire, for a good night's sleep was his only desire. His slumber was disturbed by the clump of a flat tire. Or, was it too many clothes in the dryer? Either way, the need for sleep was dire. For if sleep Marshall didn't acquire, he may perspire.

But the thud grew louder, and what happened next caused such a shock in even I the narrator that I stopped rhyming. A truck crashes through the wall of Marshall's home. Marshall jumped from his couch in a panic, not knowing what to do.

WHAT THE F**K!?! YOU BARELY MISSED ME WITH THAT TRUCK!

I said no more rhyming.

The driver’s door opens and from it comes Kerry Drunk. A legend from Texas who had long since passed. Kerry held a special place in Marshall's heart as he took Marshall under his wing when Marshall cut his teeth in the Luckenbach territory.

"How much did I drink?" Marshall wonders to himself.


Get in the truck, we got a town to make.

Brother, you are too wasted to drive.

To quote the late, great Colonel Sanders, I’m too drunk to taste this chicken.

And too drunk to drive, you just drove through my wall.

GET IN THE TRUCK YOU EGG SUCKIN DOG!

Kerry Drunk grabs Marshall in a claw hold and throws him in the passenger side of the old truck that looks like Tow Mater come to life. Kerry hops in the truck and it starts right up. Kerry backs out, turning the wheel and backing right into Mrs. Marshall’s new Lexus.

DAMN IT! I’LL NEVER GET OUT OF THE DOG HOUSE!

Without a word, Kerry shifts gears and takes off down the driveway, but instead of turning onto the main road, he just keeps driving straight. The truck drives through a guard rail and over a cliff. Marshall screams and covers his face, but the impact of the fall never comes. When Marshall slowly opens one eye and what he sees makes him set up and pay attention.

Instead of plunging down the mountain to his death, he is now cruising down a dirt road in Texas headed for the Gillespie County fairgrounds. “Start me up” by The Stones is playing on the old FM radio, and as Kerry reaches for the knob to turn the radio up Marshall notices he looks much younger, as he did in 1981. Marshall pulls down the sun visor and looks in the mirror. Upon seeing a full head of luscious blonde hair, he almost faints.

Hey, you know if your riding shotgun you gotta keep them coming.

Marshall looks down and sees a cooler in-between his feet. Kerry’s rule was Marshall had to have a beer open and ready for him when he finishes the one he currently had. Marshall grabs a can from the cooler and cracks it open handing it to Kerry.

You know what today is kid?

Marshall says nothing as he looks out at the surroundings that were once very familiar but had been pushed to the recesses of his mind.

Christmas day, nineteen eighty-one. You know what happens tonight?

I win my first championship, the Lone Star wrestling championship.

Ah, so you do remember your roots huh kid? Do you remember what else happens tonight?

Marshall smiles as he looks over at his friend who appears in his prime.

Yeah, it’s the night I met Heather.

I don’t know what she ever saw in your big ass, she coulda went back to the hotel with me.

Kerry chuckles and chugs down the rest of the beer and tosses the can out the window. This time Marshall has a fresh can open and ready for him. Soon Marshall and Kerry are walking into the locker room and Marshall spots two of his old riding buddies, the famed luchador Negro Diablo and journeyman George North. Marshall shouts and holds his arms wide for a hug but they walk past him as if Marshall didn’t exist.

What’s up, dudes?

They can’t see you.

What? It’s not 2006.

No, we are ghosts, they can’t see or hear us. No one can.

Marshall looks dumbfounded.

The two ghosts take a seat high in the rafters and watch the show. Memories flood back into Marshall's head and he is smiling ear from ear as he watches a much younger version of himself hitting Thunderstruck on Bruno Graham and pinning him for his first major title, His younger, tanner, blonder, and firmer self, jumps up and down celebrating the win, but he looks past himself to the beautiful young redhead in the front row cheering harder than anyone, his beautiful young wife.

Kerry nudges him and says, “she sure was a looker”.

“She still is,” Marshall says without taking his eyes off of her.

Looked like you were in the dog house when I came in. Or does your back just enjoy sleeping on the couch?

Marshall lowers his head in a bit of shame.

No brother, she just doesn’t understand what is going on with me right now. I had to embrace the dark side brother, had to go heel. The bad guys were ruling the roost, up was down, left was right, the baddies were king, so we had to fight fire with fire. I’ll admit I’ve changed and maybe some of that has come home with me and she just ain’t digging it brother.

Terry, look at you in that ring. You just pinned the National Wrestling Federation champion, the man who held the belt for over seven years, and did you cheat one time in that match?

Well, no. But brother, times were different then. The world was different.

Time does change what is right and what is wrong Terry. You’ve always had all the tools, the size and strength, quick on your feet and agile for a big man, and by now you’ve probably forgotten more about this sport than most people even know. So, don’t give me that bullshit about having to fight fire with fire, you took the easy road to winning a tough fight and you know it.

Terry exhales deeply and takes a drink of his beer, and as he lowers the can he finds they have warped from the rafters of the fairground arena to a local bar. Marshall sees himself again, but this time he is slow dancing with Heather to “being with you” by Smokey Robinson. Marshall sits and watches as she lays her head against his chest and he wraps his arm around her back.

She sure did love you.

Yeah, she did brother, I just hope she still loves me like that.

I’m not much of a gambler, but I’d say she doesn’t.

What the hell brother?

Marshall looks at Kerry in shock, but Kerry gives a laugh and a smile.

I’d say she loves you even more. Those two kids on the dance floor, that is physical love, young love. What you guys have now is even more, even deeper, and even stronger. I pissed away two good marriages and one decent one, don’t make the same mistakes I did Terry.

Terry says nothing but looks back at himself and his young wife dancing.

Come on time to go.

Brother, I don’t really want to leave right now, I just want to take this night in and relive it, even if it’s just watching.

GET YOUR ASS IN THE TRUCK!

Kerry grabs the claw hold on Marshall again and drags him out the door. Marshall is twice the size of Kerry but can’t pull his grip loose, or stop Kerry from throwing him in the bed of the truck. Marshall tries getting up but Kerry gases the truck and they take off speeding down the dirt road that leads to the bar.

BROTHER, I DON’T HAVE A SEATBELT!

SEATBELTS ARE FOR PUSSIES!

Kerry hits a bump in the road and Marshall goes flying from the bed of the truck into the stary sky but then floats down slowly landing in a seated position on some concrete steps.

I was wondering how long Kerry was going to keep you.

Marshall looks up to see Harry “The Hairstylist” Hotcakes.

Harry, but you’re not dead.

Well, my career is, so that counts.

To be continued.