The crowd goes wild as a high-pitched guitar riff plays. Axel and Oscar run out, stop and cross their arms over their heads, creating an X-symbol while pointing their index fingers.
David Bekker: The following is a Tag Team Match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Brigg, England, at a combined weight of 204 Kilos, Axel and Oscar, TEAM WALLACE!
They walk briskly to the ring, stopping to deliver high fives and fist bumps to the crowd.
SDS: Last week, the brothers, Axel and Oscar Z. Wallace, scored an important victory over the Wild Thornes-
DS: You mean Axel scored it. Oscar almost blew it from the first bell after that stuff Thorne said about their dad being disappointed in them
SDS: I can't fully disagree, but Axel set him straight with some tough love after.
DS: Tough love? That was some cold-blooded shit. He called their dad worm food. I get what he was doing, but damn.
SDS: I feel the same way, but the message was clear. If they want to be the Tag Team Supreme again, they have to focus on the here and now.
DS: Yeah, and- Wait... who are they facing again?
Once inside the ring, the Wallaces climb the turnbuckles and do the same gesture they did on the stage.
Unknown Woman (whispering via speakers): Tom... Dick... and Harry...
DS: BEKKER! GIMME THOSE EARPLUGS! I KNOW YOU HAVE MORE, COME ON!
The announcer points at the plugs in his ears and holds up his hands, shaking his head as if he can't hear Santos.
DS: BASTARDOOOOO!
SDS: EVERYONE GET OUT! TURN YOUR TVs OFF! CHANGE THE CHANNEL! WE'LL UNDERSTAND, JUST SAVE YOURSELVES!!!!
The names appear in order on both of the big screens, and suddenly, loud rock 'n roll music plays with some of the worst vocalisations ever uttered by human mouths.
Three men walk out, playing phantom instruments and all wearing chaps and tassels.
Harry is the man in the middle, 170 centimetres and 95 kilos, with spiky blonde hair and thin black sunglasses, playing an air guitar.
Tom is on the left, 178 cm and 86 kilos, in gothic makeup with long black hair, big top hat and rounded sunglasses, playing an air key-tar with kissy lips.
Dick is on the right, big and bald at 195 cm and 141 kilos, with a long blonde goatee dyed red at the tip and tattoos on his arms, playing air drums.
Several fans cover their ears, booing and hissing. Some kids in the crowd, well into their mid-teens, are crying. Security Chief Brendan Steele and his men guide row upon row of seats up the stairs to save them from further torment.
Axel, Oscar and referee Bryan Mbuemo cover their ears.
David Bekker (reading from a long piece of paper): Introducing the three biggest stars in the whole shebang. Not just the wrestling biz, but the music biz. Three... 'geezers'... wot's... dined with Dons, carolled for Kings, and popped the cherry of a Princess or two.
The rockstars cease their playing to bask in their own glorious introduction.
David Bekker: "Top Man" Tom Presley....
Presley lifts his hat and blows a kiss.
David Bekker: ... Big Dick Jagger...
Jagger gestures at his own crotch.
David Bekker: ... and the Hot Hunkasaurus Harry Hendrix!
Hendrix flexes and smirks.
David Bekker: Tom, Dick and Harry!
A series of fireworks that would cover at least 3 New Year's festivals explodes on the stage.
DS (crying): Make it stop, Darryl! MAKE IT STOOOOOOOOP!!!
SDS (also crying): WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME FOR?!
Oscar is down to one knee, still covering his ears. Masters is on both. Axel is using the ropes for support.
The fireworks cease. The rockstars go back to their imaginary instrument performance, while slowly -so agonisingly slow- making their way down the ramp as more and more people find the strength to make their way out of the building.
They are soon demolished from behind by a 160-kilo Tongan wrecking ball and the music stops.
SDS: IT'S THE MADNESS! Kaivao Manu, Hunapo Henare, Lulu Asovale! The Madhouse's resident renegades are destroying Tom, Dick & Harry!!
DS: I can't even be mad!
The fans that remain cheer on the brutality and rapidly return to their seats, which prevents Steele and his men from rushing down and intervening. Not that they're in too much of a rush to do so.
Axel is the first man in the ring to recover and watches the assault with narrowed eyes.
Asovale holds Henare, Henare holds Tom, both by their hair, and Manu holds Dick by his beard.
SDS: AND THERE'S THE STEREO SAMOAN SPIKES!!! The rockstars are out. This match isn't happening.
DS: That means we're all winners, companheiro.
Crowd: Thank you, Madness... *clap clap clap clap clap* Thank you, Madness. *clap clap clap clap clap* Thank you, Madness! *clap clap clap clap clap* THANK YOU, MADNESS! *clap clap clap clap clap* THANK YOU, MADNESS!
SDS: The Pisco faithful, showing their appreciation.
Asovale (now with a microphone): What can I say, except... YOU'RE WELCOME?!
DS: 15 years old, that song.
The crowd cheers.
Asovale: And speaking of... (takes a deep, loud breath) PIIIISCOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!
As has become the standard in the Madhouse, the Fight Pit crowd screams back. A mix of terror, the name drop, pop and awe.
Asovale: WELCOME TO THE MAAAD- Oops (clears throat, deep breath again)- FIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGHHHHT PIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!
The crowd is completely alive for her, hanging on every word. Oscar looks around. Axel now has his hands on his hips, eyes on the stage.
Asovale: We came down to the Pit to look into the eyes of evil. But there's blinders in our way. Blinders from Brigg.
Oscar clenches his fists. Axel frowns and walks away to get a mic.
SDS: Oh no.
DS: Yeah, okay, it's time for them to go.
The crowd's cheers become equally loud boos.
Axel: Let's get one thing straight. The line to Pandemonium starts behind US.
The crowd pops. Oscar nods.
Axel: I don't care what kind of history you have with Campbell. I don't care how many vloggers, speed skaters (points at Tom, Dick and Harry, still lying on the floor) or jackasses you beat up. That's just the way it is, so go back to the loony bin- sorry, Madhouse, and wait your bloody turn!
The crowd pops even louder.
DS: You tell them, Axeman!
Manu and Henare growl.
Asovale (tilts head): ... What if... (takes a step forward) we chuck... (another step) your broken... (another step)... battered... (several steps) BLOODIED bodies IN the bin?!
The Madness reach the base of the ramp. Asovale sends her "brothers" to either side while she keeps her back to the stage.
SDS: No. No! We need help out here! This 3-on-2!
DS: 3-on-2? These three are like 2 people each! It's 6-on-2! Steele, get down here, dammit!
Axel and Oscar go back-to-back as the Polynesians all climb the apron. Steele and his men are finally able to sprint down the stairs, but they are too far away.
Asovale finally climbs onto the apron and sticks one foot inside, and then the lights go out.
SDS: Now, what's happening?
DS: Cheap-ass Campbell didn't pay the light bills!
SDS: He doesn't own the arena, you idiot!
The lights come back on, and the Madness are gone.
SDS: IT'S PANDEMONIUM!! THE TAG TEAM SUPREME ARE IN THE BUILDING!!
The witch and her monstrous sons completely dwarf the former champions.
Mộng Dữ is where Manu was, looking blankly ahead with his black Lovecraftian mask. Hổn Loạn is where Henare was, breathing heavily under his crimson rage mask. Both wear the Tag Team Championships around their waists. Oscar's head snaps from one towering twin to another. Axel looks at neither.
Standing where Asovale stood is the Mother of Darkness, Tình Nhân, holding a microphone in one hand and her Lantern of Souls in the other, her red eyes staring into Axel's from behind her own white mask.
Tình Nhân: You're... welcome.
The lights go out again. When they come back on, there is no Pandemonium.
There is no Madness either.
Only Axel and Oscar Z. Wallace.
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