The Building Falls To Pieces, Act IV

Pressure Point 78
Oct. 13, 2003
Starring Team Angel, kØØl-aid man and Trey Vincent
Writer: John Leary

Back at the Action Library, Kordell Cronin lay passed out on the floor as Claire Voyant, Kurt Kobain, Kara Yoki, Wilma “The Librarian” and David Flair duct taped the hell out of that big gaping hole in the wall, hiding it, at least on the inside, with the gray tape.

“Hoorah. Now if that isn’t a finished job, then I really don’t know what a finished job is but that looks finished to me so how about we celebrate and christen the library or something?” Wilma asked.

“Sorry, I think your train of though derailed. What the hell did you just say?” Claire Voyant asked.

“She wants to christen the new library,” Kurt Kobain said, suddenly swooping into the camera view and looking all mentally disturbed.

“Oh. I know how!” Claire said.

That’s when she turned around and punched David Flair in the jaw. He fell flat on his back.

Everyone laughed and pointed at Flair.

“What an idiot,” Yoki laughed.

“Hey, that hurt. Man, my stomach hurts. Anybody have a Rolaid?”

Rumble, rumble rumble.

“If a big friggin tablet crashes through that wall, so help me...” Kara said as all eyes and heads turned toward the approaching rumble.

CRASH!

OH YEAH!

kØØl-Aid the sugarless!

“I am mighty. I am your king! I am an asshole! I will very shortly kick all of your asses after several random obscure rants! Why, the scabies goat ratio in here is just slightly lower than a Christina Aguilera video,” kØØl-aid said.

That’s when Angel came in to save the day.

“You can’t be here,” kØØl-aid said. “I beat you up. With two henchmen!”

“Funny thing about that.”

The cameras cut away to the shocked faces of Team Angel, except for Kurt Kobain, who looked as emotionless as something that’s really emotionless. Like a shark with legs! What a stupid thought that is though. That’s when the loud pouring sound was heard in the background. After several seconds of struggling, the cameras returned to Angel. On the floor were several filled plastic cups, all with lids.

That’s when Trey Vincent walked into the library and picked up a cup of Kool-Aid. He looked at the duct taped hole, and then the gaping hole in the library.

“Quite a mess you have here, guys. I guess we’ll have to put the under construction sign up again.” Vincent guzzled down the red drink and crumpled up the cup.

“Looks like you failed Vincent,” Angel said.

“Nope, I think that all made it into my stomach.”

“I wasn’t talking about the drink. I was talking about your evil plan to bring in kØØl-aid man to destroy Team Angel.”

“Failed? Oh no, no. I’m done with you, Angel. The little boys downstairs are the people you need to worry about, now.”

That’s when the dramatic music began.

“The janitors?” Angel asked.

“No. Even lower than that. Brawlers On a Budget. It seems the Main Eventers at BOB have developed quite an interest in you.”

“Main Eventers? In BOB? BWAHAHAHAHA!” Kordell Cronin laughed in his stoned haze. “Nothing but jobbas there, TV.”

“Do you know how many people main evented there and wanted to leave, but they couldn’t break their contracts? When you sign with BOB. You sign with BOB for life. Even BigBOSS has my name on a contract I don’t remember signing. I think tequila was involved. Angel, we’re done. You play a big part in the sports entertainment apocalypse. Well, the one they have scheduled, at least. And any others that come along before then. Like this scrub,” Vincent said, looking at kØØl-aid. “Anyhow. I don’t know what tonight’s lesson is. Other than, I like to drink Kool-Aid.”

“I’ll stick to Hawaiian Punch, thanks,” Angel said.

NEXT CHAPTER: Fake Past, Confusing Present, Murky Future >>

©2003 John Leary