PGA Primetime Wednesday! 2/25/09

- Backstage with PRU++ (who looks ravishing in chopped up pieces of a pink and purple striped dress and an airbrushed trucker hat), who is standing by as only she can with the "highest paid Panamanian Superstar" in the history of PGA, "The One Man Tag Team" Whoomp Del Rio. Whoomp regales us with stories of his youth, jumping the canal, stopping to slide his sunglasses to the end of his nose and eye Pru a few times.

Uh, and as he's talking a big, neatly trimmed by absolutely psychotic-by-sight guy in an old red and black flannel shirt appears in the hallway behind him, walking towards him and yelling some Deuteronomical bible verse about the Wrath of the Lord. Del Rio just sort of laughs nervously and turns to confront him, and dude SLAMS WHOOMP'S HEAD AGAINST THE WALL and starts BITING HIS NOSE OFF, then THROWS HIM BY THE LEG into the catering table (a card table) and BREAKS A COFFEE URN ACROSS HIS FACE, still screaming scripture and repeatedly slamming his head into the floor. At the risk of earning some Biblical violence myself, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST what was that?? We had thirty seconds of OMC doing "wrestlers promo!" to Pru, and then fucking Death Incarnate shows up and it's a snuff film.

Trainers, referees, EMTs show up (all with bandages around their heads) to treat the gaping, gushing wound that used to be Whoomp Del Rio's face. Yech, he's bleeding onto the baby carrots. Suddenly the big calms down and nods his head politely to a freaked-out (with good reason) Pru, then DRAGS DEL RIO AWAY BY THE LEG muttering something about "we all got to answer when that big bell rings" under his breath. What. The. Fuckkkk.

[Mercifully, another commercial break]

- Back from commercial and police are on the scene, asking Pru about what went down. Was that even part of the show? Or did North Carolina just vomit up the devil backstage at PGA?

- In the announcers booth, Tom and King are worried that a serious injury bag might not be enough to help if you get your face broken by a coffee urn and you are dragged away to a hillbilly shack and you are murdered. They wish Whoomp the best in his future endeavors, be they what they are.

----

- Backstage again, Chip Sandles (d'oh) is standing by with El Hijo De Don Leo Jonathan. You may remember him as that guy who got x'd by the aforementioned King Falcon dive last week, so instead of bandages wrapped around his head he's wearing two casts and a halo. Chip asks him how he's feeling (how the fuck do you think he's feeling you square), and Jonathan's response is "every day's a challenge." He swears he'll get back in the ring.

Out of nowhere the backstage door bursts into pieces as the CRAZY EVIL BIBLE GUY FROM EARLIER BARGES IN AND USES WHOOMP DEL RIO AS A WEAPON TO ASSAULT DON LEO JONATHAN!!! I THOUGHT WE HAD THE POLICE TAKING CARE OF THIS. Chip Sandles runs for his life (good call, Chip), and the big guy just keeps wailing on DLJ with Whoomp Del Rio (holding him by the ankles like a baseball bat), screaming and ranting about the "whores of Babylon" (or something). WHAT IS GOING ON, SHOOT HIM SOMEBODY

After a minute or so, this fucked up guy holds Don Leocito by a leg and Del Rio by a leg and drags them out of the room. You don't think... no, he's not...

- Back in the ring, B. Armstrong Ruby is on a cell phone. He hangs up, and announces to the crowd that the new decision is that PGA isn't going to be TV-PG, but they're going to TRY to be TV-PG, and if you could please not write words like "F word" and "B word" and "pedophile" on your posters it would be greatly appreciated. He asks us if we're ready for the main event, and the crowd cheers.

And then...

- This GUY with the jobbers comes out through the entrance way, leaving two lines of blood behind him wherever he walks. Somebody better get out there and make sure nothing happens to the commissioner, I don't want another month without wrestling. Morse says that the police have identified this man as "Lester Balaam Jackson," that he's from " 'round Old Fort, North Carolina" and that he wandered backstage because one of the production guys left the door open. WHAT THE HELL, YOU GUYS

Jackson has his victims at ringside now, and Ruby looks like he's about to lose his mind. Del Rio gets rolled into the ring, and he's just torn up completely. Horrible to look at. Jackson rolls El Hijo De Don Leo Jonathan in after him, and it's the same story. He makes a neat little pile of them and climbs into the ring himself. What. Is. Going. On. Ruby is talking to the production truck over the microphone.

Jackson has absolutely no expression on his face. He reaches into his pocket and PULLS OUT A SWITCHBLADE JESUS CHRIST, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS, somebody needs to... and, uh... he sits down on top of the jobber body pile and starts carving up an apple. Ruby almost pissed himself. *I* almost pissed myself. Now Jackson is singing "Old Man River" to himself. What is this dude's damage? Ruby finally acknowledges him.

Ruby: "What the hell is this? Who are you? Are you a wrestler?"

Jackson stares him down coldly, then stands. Ruby won't take his eyes off the switchblade.

Jackson: [softly] "Can be."

Ruby: "Well, we don't DO THINGS like this around here in the PGA. We do what we do for these fans, to entertain them, to push our bodies to the limit, test our strength... we don't go around -"

Oh shit, Jackson just took a step toward him. Ruby looks to security, but they're all huddled against the back wall with white faces. Ruby looks to Caesar and Morse, who appear to be hiding under their announce table. Ruby looks back down at the switchblade. AND "FIESTA" BY THE POGUES KICKS IN!! FUCK YES

At the top of the entrance way stands Salvador motherfucking Serpiente in full bandito gear. Jackson seems distracted by him and turns to face him. Serpiente whips out the six shooters and fires them off at the ceiling! Off comes the sombrero. Off comes the bandolero bullet belt. Off comes the poncho. THIS IS REAL, BABY.

Match 6: Salvador Serpiente [227 lbs., from City of Zacatecas, Mexico] vs. Lester Balaam Jackson [??? lbs., from 'round Old Fort, North Carolina]

Salvador rushes the ring and the bell sounds! Ruby bails, and Serp slides into the ring and rushes headfirst into Jackson, knocking him to the ground! The two are exchanging right hands, and Salvador is EN FUEGO! The roof has just blown off of the Greensboro Coliseum annex, ladies and gentlemen! Jackson throws a dirty elbow that catches Serp in the temple and rakes the eyes. That's enough to fend off the attack, and Jackson is back up to his feet. Uh oh.

A running boot from Jackson misses. A wild swing is ducked. Salvador is sticking and moving, landing jabs where he can. Jackson's rage is swelling, and he catches Sal by the hair and drags him into the corner. Lester Balaam Jackson is RELENTLESS with punches now, this isn't that Secrets of Pro Wrestling punch where you stomp and the stunt granny falls over, this is a backwoods fucking punch to the face, and Serpiente is taking a load of them. Serp is busted open now above the eye and his nose is about two seconds from breaking. The referee tries to help out but gets shoved on his ass for his services. That's enough time for Serpiente to break free with a kick to the knee, but just barely.

Sal's bleeding heavily and on the defense, and Lester won't stop coming. Serp tries to fend him off with stiff forearm uppercuts, but they just change the Bible verse. I've never seen someone move like Jackson, he's like Jason from the Friday the 13th movies. But Serpiente is a warrior, and if anybody is going to go down throwing punches into a machete it's THIS motherfucker. Another punch cracks Serp's cheek, another busts his lip, and a boot to the face sends him stumbling backwards. But he won't fall down! Lester leans against the ropes and comes off with a running kick to the chest that knocks Salvador off his feet, and Sal finally collapses back and lands on the pile of men Jackson made earlier.

Jackson is screaming at the audience now about how they are "sinful" and "wronged." Serp may be out, say it ain't so. Salvador touches his face and feels the blood pouring out. He rubs his jaw (that may be broken) and grimaces. He's down, but he's not on the ground... he notices that he's laying on Del Rio and Jonathan. He sees the jobber pile he's become a part of - and he's NOT GONNA HAVE IT. His face starts to turn red and he climbs to his feet, he's feeling no pain! Jackson hears the crowd reacting and turns to see Serpiente on his feet, asking for more!

SHIT, it's 3:06 AM, there's no WAY they can go much longer with this...

Lester throws a wild right that is blocked, BOOM, a counter punch from Serpiente. Another right is blocked, BOOM, another counter. Jackson is wobbly now, and Serp is firing up! Another big swing is ducked, and Serpiente lays in a HUGE dropkick to Jackson's neck that SENDS HIM TO THE MAT! JACKSON FALLS BEFORE SERPIENTE! AND HE'S NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT! JACKSON SNATCHES UP THE SWITCHBLADE FROM THE MAT AND LUNGES AT SERP, HOLY SHIT, SERP BLOCKS IT!

Jackson forces Serp to the ground and has that blade positioned only inches from his chest... security finally gets up off of their STUPID ASSES and rushes the ring, along with B. Armstrong Ruby and about half of the PGA roster. Serpiente is on his back telling them no, screaming "NO, THIS IS MY FIGHT." But everyone is in the ring now anyway, and the force of about ten road agents is enough to stop Lester Jackson's forward motion. Serpiente is lying on his back with his eyes closed now, the blade resting on his chest.

Armstrong Ruby is in Lester's face now, yelling something and pointing to the back. MORSE SAYS WE'RE OUT OF TIME. WHAT THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT NEXT WEEK??