US Title/Strap: Mark Force vs Mike C

[Mr. Mischoff]

You two RP here

Match Note: US Title match contended in a Leather Strap Match.

[Mark Force]

"King of Old School"
Mark Force
World Champ

"There are some days when I think I'm going to die from an overdose of satisfaction" - Salvador Dali



We pick up just as Freedom 4 goes off the air. Mark is holding the World Title in his teeth. He climbs up each turnbuckle and raises his fist. The fans are starting to pile out of the arena. Mark grabs a microphone.

Mark Force : Wait a second. Wait a second. USPW fans. I need to get something off my chest. I’ve been called all sorts of names tonight, and over the past few weeks. I know none of you take me all that seriously...you probably think I’m undeserving.

The people in the crowd nod their head in unison.

Johnny Vendetta : “Undeserving?” That’s a funny way to pronounce retarded.

Mark Force : I just want you all to know that I come out here and bust my ass every week....not for your love...not for your hate...but for your respect.

He tries to put the belt around his waist...but, his belly is too big.

Mark Force : Carrying this strap over my shoulder...being the world champ...It just isn’t enough for some of you people. Some of you are convinced that coming out here, and laying your body on the line is EASY. Well...it’s time to show you guys just how “easy” it is. Who wants a shot at my world title.....TONIGHT?!? RIGHT NOW?!

Mark looks around, and a large crowd has gathered at gate around the ring.

Mark Force : Seriously? All of you are convinced you can beat me? Seriously? There’s like...a 9 year old right there. And it’s a girl? Little Girl...you think you can be world champ? [Mark Laughs] Okay. I see a lot of worthy opponents ringside....but, I want to give you guys the best show possible. You. [points] You right there. You look formidable. Get your butt up here, and let me beat some respect into you.

The crowd cheers as a 74 year old lady climbs into the ring. Mark is holding up his belt with his back to the little old lady when she runs up and performs a backslide on Mark.

1!

2!

3!

The old lady jumps up and grabs the World Title belt. Mark is arguing with the referee when the referee grabs the mic.

Referee : As pointed out by Mark F...

Mark Force : Listen up, ref. You will now refer to me as “World Champion of the World, Oh Glorious One, super awesome wrestler, Mark Force.”

Referee : [glaring at Mark, he says sarcastically] The “World Champion of the World, Oh Glorious One, super awesome wrestler, Mark Force” has correctly pointed out that this match never officially started. The bell never rang. Therefore....he is still champion. However....I’m not letting him off that easy. RING THE DAMN BELL. Lets do this!

The old lady runs over and Mark ducks under the bottom rope. He grabs his World Title belt and walks backstage....yapping at the crowd on the way out. The referee counts him out and raises the hand of the victor...the 74-year old lady. Mark reaches his locker where a slew of cameras await to greet the new World Champ.


Cameraman : Mark. How did it feel to burn the US Championship Belt?

Mark Force : Pretty damn good. Mike C is a murderer. He deserved it. If anything...I did the guy a favor. Now that we’ve crowned the World Champ...who would want to be the US Champ? Tell the Tag Team Champs and the TV champ to watch out, because Im gonna burn their little goddamn belts, too. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to make love to the world title belt.

Mark starts to undress.

Cameraman : [in horror] Right here? Out in the open?

Mark Force : What better way to show my love for this belt?

Everyone throws up, and one cameraman jumps from a window to a sure death after catching a glimpse of Mark’s tiny penis. A film crew sticks around.

Mark Force : This won’t be pretty, guys. You might not want to be here for this.

Film Crew Leader : You are the most vile, unapologetic man I’ve ever seen. For some reason...my boss thinks you’d be a perfect candidate for a reality show. If the show gets picked up, you’ll make a weekly salary...and potentially be in the homes of millions of people on network television. My job is to film everything...your job is to be....you. What do you say?

Mark Force : Can we....uh...start AFTER I make love to this belt? Im not sure if I want people seeing my sweet ass. One time, I was on this television show...and I showed my butt cheeks...and I got like....tons of offers from hot babes who wanted to do lots of sex with me. I had to hide in my house for like...a decade. Shit was cray cray.

Film Crew Leader : We film everything. That’s the deal.

Sensual music plays as Mark disrobes. He clutches the belt tightly, and caresses it. He starts to lick the belt up and down. Then, he rubs the belt on his junk. Everyone stares in horror.

Film Crew Leader : We’ll be back tomorrow.

FADE OUT, and back in. Its the next day. The film crew is recording for his brand new TV Show tentatively titled : Mark Force, Like it or Not.

Mark Force, Like it or Not. EPISODE 1
9:04 PM
Holiday Inn, RM 144

Mark Force : So, I’m sitting in my hotel room. I just cashed my first paycheck after becoming world champ. Holy crap. This is the life. I bought a years supply of hot pockets. Pepperoni Pizza for life, bitch. Unfortunately...that took the majority of my check...and I didn’t buy a freezer to put them in. So...they’ll probably just sit here in the hotel room and...I don’t know. I don’t know what happens. I’m rich now. I can just leave them here and someone will clean it up for me. That’s what world champs do..right? [Laughs]

Mark walks over and picks up 3 hot pockets and throws them in the microwave.

Mark Force : See...to be world champ...you must have a strict diet regimen. I throw 3 of these bad boys in here for 2 minutes and 32 seconds 3 times a day. If youre lucky...the shit won’t be hot lava when you take a bite. I gotta replenish my body with the nutrients I lost today. It was a hard day of training. I did 3 sit ups, a push up, and I watched a guy run on the treadmill. Then I found a guy that looked like Mike C and beat him with a strap until I was tired.

FLASHBACK

Mark is rolling around a gym on a vespa. To show how hardcore he is...he throws his helmet off....but not his knee guards. Mark is eyeballing the patrons of the gym until he comes across a dude who sort of looks like Mike C.

Mark Force : You. I have 500$ american dollars right here. I will hand you these dollars in exchange for your services.

Gym Rat : Gay.

Mark Force : Ahem. You don’t gotta blow me or nothin’. I got screwed over by Frankie Image and now have to participate in a leather strap match. So...I figure the best way to train for this match is to eat lots of hot pockets and beat a guy who looks like Mike C with a leather strap.
Dude : Uh. I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Mark Force : Can I practice hitting you with this leather strap in exchange for 500 american dollars?

Dude : Sure.

Mark and the guy climb into the ring. Mark warms up by jogging around the ring, but, tires out quickly.

Mark Force : Okay, kid. Stand right here. Now, I’m going to beat you with this strap until I get tired.

Dude : Gimme the money first.

Mark hands over the $500...in crisp 20$ bills. As the guy is counting it, Mark starts beating him with the strap. The guy barely notices.

Dude : 500$. Its all there. I can’t believe it. Okay...lets get this shit started.

He turns around confused, and looks at Mark who has collapsed on the ground.

Mark Force : Dude....[huff]....Act like you’re....hurt really bad. I’ll throw in another $20. [huff]

The camera cuts away...and back to the dude laying on the ground. Mark is standing over him flexing.

Mark Force : You’re gonna edit that to look like I just absolutely demolished this guy, right? And, you’re gonna cut out the part where I just said that? And that? And that?....And that?

END FLASHBACK

[/b]
Mark Force : So...Mr Mike C. As you can see...you’re in for a real treat. You beat me the first time...and I got the upper hand this past week for the World Title. This week...the rubber match...is gonna end the same way. I’ll be walking out of that arena with 2 titles. I don’t see how I can lose. I already found a man of your stature...and beat him to a pulp with a leather strap! Also...look at these hot pockets, bro. Think of all the amazing nutrients I’m just pumping my body full of. You know what. Someone call a nurse...I’m going to inject myself with the Hot Pocket nectar. I need a fucking Hot Pocket IV.

[hour later]

Mark Force : Okay. So....apparently it’s not a good idea to inject Hot Pockets directly into your bloodstream. You’d think if it were than dangerous....itd have some kind of warning on the box. Anywho. Mike C...I just want to comment on one more thing before my first episode ends.

CREDITS START TO ROLL.

[/b]
Mark Force : This is important...I hope they don’t play this shit while the credits roll. You guys wouldn’t do that, right? [pause] Mike...I think all week last week you were hinting that you wanted me to join your stable. I mean...Im not really good at picking up signals. Well, my answer is ….

[SHOW GOES OFF AIR]

["Classy" Mike C]

Advice from an old friend...

It's not like our hero to get down in the dumps, and yet here he is...sat at a bar with a beer in hand (European obviously, even without the anti-US sentiment some of you expect from Mike C I think we can all agree that American beer pales in comparison to it's European equivalent...or to horse urine for that matter), looking desolate and disappointed with the US Title belt around his waist.

Mike C sips on the beer before placing the cold bottle on his cheek, no doubt to sooth the pain caused by Phantom's heinous and completely "unprovoked" attack at Freedom. And please note, the belt Mike C has with him is the United States title, not the custom made United Kingdom title that was so cruelly destroyed by Mark Force...

Mark Force...the new USPW World Champion. Mark Force...a fat, mentally deranged man with a penchants for "Hot Pockets" (something we don't have in the UK but let's take a guess that they're not a euphemism...). Mark Force...the man who destroyed Mike C's beloved belt. Needless to say, Mark Force appears to have gotten to Mike C...and as such he's confiding with someone just out of shot.

Mike C: ...

Before we start I should say he almost sounds tearful...

Mike C: ...I...I just don't know what to do. All I want is to make this place better for the fans...for my colleagues...for everyone. I just want to make America great again. I know sometimes I'm a bit brash and a bit blunt but it's tough love! I just want to help people improve and to do that I'm just trying to be forceful, ram the message home! But now look at me...I've got a burnt face, a melted belt and a match against the new World Champion...and his belt isn't even on the line! So in this moment of need...this crisis of confidence...I'm turning to you. You're one of my closest confidants in this company, one of the people I truly trust and, dare I say it...I need your help.

The camera zooms out to reveal that Mike C is sat next to...not Shawn Starr...not Chester Gold...not the Red Army...it's the Eagle statue from outside the Ameri-Dome...I'm starting to think that Mike C's nervous breakdown is something of a ruse...

Mike C: So what do you think? To become World Champion do I really need to become a fat psychopath with a penchant for talking to inanimate objects?

Eagle Statue: ...

Mike C: No, didn't think so!

Mike C swivels around on his stool and faces the camera, that same cocksure smirk upon his face that we see whenever he's running down America and thinks he's being incredibly clever. A face that could be best summed up as "smart arse". There is indeed a burn upon his cheek, not a major one and certainly not enough to ruin his, erm, "good looks", but it's very red. Mike C glances at the Eagle and then back at the camera.

Mike C: Did you really think that I was having a nervous breakdown? Seriously? And do you really think I was so deluded that I'd befriended an inanimate object? Please! If I want to talk to someone who offers very little but is faultlessly loyal then I'd talk to Chester Gold! But in truth, Freedom was not my finest night. To say it was disappointing would be, well, an under statement. First there was my old friend Phanny...

Mike C turns his face slightly as if to highlight the red patch on his cheek.

Mike C: Very drole Phanny, very drole to attack me with a quintessentially British drink. I seem to be getting to you a bit, don't I old friend? Unfortunately, as I made quite clear, tea isn't my favourite drink...I like it even less now, but that's beside the point. Phanny you can whine and bitch all you like, you can even pretend that your brand of, erm, "charisma" draws any heat from audiences. You can pretend that what you say matters or that what you've achieved in the past makes you some sort of wrestling demi-God or that just because you were trained by someone legendary that you won't sound like a fool every time you mention it...but the fact remains that you are not important. Well done, you beat me once in the past when I was at my lowest ebb, mere days before I left RCW...but that won't be happening again. I will be dealing with you very soon Phanny, and then hopefully realise that you do sound a fool whenever you mention your training...that your achievements don't matter...that you aren't a demi-God and you don't have a particular gift when it comes to wowing the fans with your words...hell, hopefully you'll realise that getting them to chant "USA!" is what we want and maybe, just maybe, they were chanting it out of protest against your borefest...but most of all, most of all, hopefully you'll realise that I am the way forward for this company and I am better than you...see you at Freedom buddy.

A waitress approaches. It's strange, if you went by every promo shot by AJ Johnson you'd think all the waitresses that wrestlers encounter are buxom blondes that you can pinpoint by age within a year or two. If that's the case then Mike C chose the wrong bar. This waitress is about 43 or 44 (or 42...or 45...), she's buxom...but that isn't just limited to her chest, she's even got buxom ankles if that's possible...it's fair to say she's the Mark Force of waitressing. And she doesn't seem happy or impressed by the presence of Mike C...or his Eagle...

Waitress: Excuse me sir but you're going to have to get rid of that statue.

The statue, might I add, is about 7ft tall. It's also taking up about half of the bar with it's wingspan.

Mike C: Why? It's my companion for the evening and I'm a paying customer.

Waitress: That may be but you're stopping plenty of other paying customers from getting a drink!

Mike C: Look love, I'm here doing a TV shoot and I'm kind of a big deal. I'll move the statue when I'm done OK?

Waitress: Well...if it's for TV...I suppose we can wait another few minutes but be quick!

Mike C: Thank you. And at the same time you're welcome.

Waitress: I'm welcome? What for?

Mike C: Why me making America a better place of course!

The waitress rolls her eyes.

Waitress: You're not one of them Scientologist fellas are you? If you are then you can get out, we ain't interested in no cult.

Mike C: No, no, don't worry. I might be leading a cult but it's only the cult of knowledge and enlightenment...the cult of the United Soldiers of Anarchy...

Waitress: I ain't heard of you so I'll let you off for now...but come to think of it, I do recognise you from the TV...

Mike C smirks.

Waitress: The British accent...ageing face...slightly mad...wow! Just wait until I tell my kids that I met House!

Mike C frowns. He goes to correct the waitress but she's gone. No bother, Mike C turns back to the camera.

Mike C: Sorry about that America...but it does raise an interesting point. That "lady", pathetic while she may be, is about as close as the female form will ever get to Mark Force..."Mark" Force?..."Mark Force"?...I'm still not sure how I'm meant to say it. This company is supposed to be all about showing how great America is, and that's exactly why I'm here. I want to show America how great it can be so it can show the world that it's not just full of fat, illiterate, insane, fame hungry, god fearing morons. I want America to say "yes, this is what the majority of people in America are like. But we also have some people that you'd be willing to have a conversation with and expect to get something semi-intelligent out of them". And then, just to make that all the harder, you get Mark Force winning the USPW World Championship. History will now show that the first man to win the USPW World Championship was a fat, untrained, mentally ill man with a limited grasp of reality and an even more limited grasp of wrestling. Mark Force is a piss stain upon USPW's legacy. And still...despite that. Despite his flaws and the fact he destroyed my custom made belt...I quite like the guy. I like him almost as much as I like this Eagle.

The camera focuses on the stern face of the Eagle statue. In spite of it's horribly gaudy nature it is quite a nice statue.

Mike C: Mark, I think deep down you know that all my attacks on you have been for the greater good and I think you acknowledge that you need help. You don't have your brother any more, and you certainly don't have your, erm, "brother". You might feel like you're at the top right now with your shiny new belt and a limitless supply of hot pockets but trust me...you need help. You need someone to help you deal with the pressure and guide you along the way. That title belt is too much too early and that's why I've invited you to submit to the USA and help you improve so when the day comes you can be a real, respectable World Champion. This Friday my United States title is on the line and you've got us in a strap match. It's a good choice. Sometimes you need a bit of penance to improve and you'll be getting plenty of that when I beat you sevens shades of s**t. It's nothing personal, it's just to try and help you. And when I leave you beaten and raw in the ring please don't feel too bad, please feel the elation that YOU Mark Force are on the road to greatness. Then, when we inevitably stand across the ring from each other at Wrestlefest, show the world what a great man you can be. Lay down, sacrifice the World Title, I promise it will be worth it. Pledge allegiance to the flag...of the United Soldiers of Anarchy...

Mike C swigs the last of his beer, places the empty bottle on the bar and exits. The statue remains sat at the bar and the rotund waitress returns.

Waitress: Hey House! You forgot your statue!

Mike C fails to return and, after a few moments, the waitress sighs and begins trying to drag the Eagle away from the bar. It appears that she has the same level of strength as Mark Force and we fade to black with her struggling in vain as the Eagle begins to fall forward, right on top of her...