A Disaster Beyond Your Imagination
(BILL BUCKLEY and SAMMY BENSON are settled in at the commentatorís table on the deck of the Parsonsí Cruise Liner 2. Taping a show is always a different energy then doing one live, and doing one on a shipís deck throws another wrench into things. Ring announcer Rhubarb Jones is hyping the crowd of CSWA cruisers Ė a task made even harder by the fact that it has become clear to all but the most dense that something has gone terribly wrong with this cruise. They havenít made one scheduled disembarkation and there hasnít been anything publicly said about it, except for a couple of signs that advise weather patterns have changed their route. The ship-to-shore phones are all suddenly Ďout of order,í and neither the captain nor CSWA owner Stephen Thomas have shown up for any of the ďCaptainís Dinners.Ē Something is definitely rotten in DenmarkÖ)
BENSON: You do realize Iím gonna spill all the beans on this idiot Hacker mess, donít you?
BUCKLEY: Hey, if you wanna get tasered and thrown overboard, feel free. I donít know what good itíll do since the show is being taped.
SB: If I say it enough, theyíll either have to scrap the whole thing or let something slip through.
BB: So youíre saying that in three months, when this actually airs, someone might see it and think, ďHey, maybe we should contact the authorities and send them to find a boat that was somewhere in the Caribbean three months ago?Ē
SB: You have a better plan?
(The monitors on their table switch from various camera views to one view of their beloved former colleague, the Red Midget.)
RED: I do. How about you keep your big mouth shut and I donít have to come up there and take your place?
SB: If you come up here, the only place youíre going is overboard.
RM: The only way Iím coming up there is if my security already has you tasered, trussed, and ready to humiliate.
BB: What do you want, Lyle?
RM: Just to remind both of you that none of us want to start an angry and confused mob here, do we? Because that would lead to people getting hurtÖ and considering my guys are the ones with all the stun guns, tasers and tear gas, I donít think we want that, right?
SB: Your guys? You donít expect us to believe youíre the mastermind behind this, do you? In fact, if I remember your little one-man show, youíve already made it clear that this idiot ďHackerĒ is your new boss.
RM: Thatís not for you to worry about, Sammy. As usual, youíre not important enough to play with the big boys, only the minions.
SB: Come out of your little hidey-hole and Iíll show you what I can do to annoying little minionsÖ
BB: Iíll keep him reined in as usual, Lyle. Was there anything else?
RM: That was it, Bill. Glad to see you can still be professional during a stressful time.
BB: Show your oversized little head up here and Iíll show you how professional I can be. It wouldnít be the first time, remember?
RM: Touche. Be good boys, Iíll be watching.
(The monitors flash back to their normal camera views. Rhubarb is beginning the countdown.)
SB: I wondered if you still had it in you.
BB: I hate that little person almost as much as you do, Sammy. That doesnít mean Iím going to give him an excuse to end up hurting some innocent people. You ready?
SB: As ready as Iíll ever be.
BB: Here we go. (takes deep breath as the stage manager counts down) Hello wrestling fans! This is CSWA PRIMETIME and Iím Bill Buckley, along here as always with Sammy BensonÖ.