Chapter Text
NOT THAT LONG AGO, IN AN ARENA NOT THAT FAR AWAY...
"They're packed to the rafters here and cheering away like there's no tomorrow, as the World Wrestling Federation proudly brings you the final installment of Saturday Night's Main Event for this calendar year. Hello once again, Vince McMahon here with Jesse 'the Body' Ventura, and it really goes without saying, Jesse, that this past year was yet another watershed year in the history of the World Wrestling Federation," the clean-cut TV commentator turned to his more sloppily dressed color man.
"And as usual, McMahon, the pleasure was all yours," Ventura grumbled, "What is this now, three years that Hulk Hogan's held the gold? If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's sitting on it as long as he can, and WWF President Jack Tunney's just sitting back and allowing him to do it."
"I don't know how you come up with that opinion, Jesse; during his entire reign to date, Hulk Hogan has gone well out of the way to defend the title as often as possible. And don't you think your attire this evening is in poor taste?" McMahon frowned the Body's T-shirt, inscribed with the words SANTA IS A BIG FAT HOAX, KIDS.
"Hey, it's a free country, and I can say whatever I want, especially if it's the truth," the Body declared defiantly. McMahon rolled his eyes in disgust. "And speaking of world title defenses, the Hulkster will in fact make his final regular title defense of this year later on tonight's program against the Honky Tonk Man inside a steel cage," he told the viewing public, "Tonight is also the debut on prime time television of the younger brother of Intercontinental champion Bret 'Hitman' Hart, 'the Rocket' Owen Hart, who you saw a glimpse of at the recent Survivor Series; Owen has been signed to a deal by the WWF, and will make his debut on Saturday Night's Main Event against 'the Natural' Butch Reed. And speaking of the Hitman himself, he will also be defending his title, this time against Adrian Adonis, managed of course by Bret Hart's former manager of no relation, Jimmy Hart. And the tag team the Mouth of the South sold out the Hart Foundation for, the Fabulous Rougeau Brothers, will have their first shot at the gold against reigning champions Legion of Doom."
"About time the Rougeaus finally got a title shot; they've more than proven themselves worthy, and as all-American boys, they're the type of champions the people can really rally around."
"They're not all-American boys; simply moving to this country does not make one a true American, especially people who use the despicable tactics the Rougeaus often resort to. First on the card tonight, however, we bring you this king-sized match, Andre the Giant versus 'Ravishing' Rick Rude, and Jesse, I'm really interested how this match will pan out; although both men were on opposing teams at the Survivor Series, they never were actually in the ring together during that match due to Rude being the first on his team eliminated."
"Yeah, well that was a fluke; he got caught up with how beautiful Elizabeth is for just a split second, and it cost him."
"We shall see; let's go down to ring announcer Howard Finkel with the call for our opening match of the evening," McMahon turned in his chair towards the ring as the bell rang and Finkel hefted the microphone to announce, "The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Coming down the aisle with his manager, Bobby 'the Brain' Heenan, from Robbinsdale, Minnesota, weighing 251 pounds, 'Ravishing' Rick Rude!"
"Bobby Heenan looking a lot more confident tonight than when we last saw him at the Survivor Series, where both his men on the main event team, including Rick Rude, were eliminated early," McMahon noted.
"Those were freak accidents like I said; Heenan usually rebounds from defeat quite nicely, and it stands to reason he'll have Rude-winner of the Jesse the Body Award at the Slammies, I may add-ready to go for this one," Ventura eagerly plugged his own award.
"And he'd better be for this one, given his opponent is more than...oh not this again," McMahon rolled his eyes again as Rude grabbed the microphone in the ring. "Cut the music," he ordered the sound technicians in the booth. "What I'd like right now," he addressed the crowd, "is for all you fat, ugly, horse-faced, holiday-hungry hicks to try and control yourselves while I take my robe off and show the ladies what the truly sexy body of a giant killer looks like. Hit the music."
"He can't call himself a giant killer when the match hasn't even started yet," McMahon complained.
"Well he's a better opponent than Andre gives credit to, and I wouldn't be surprised if Rude pulls the upset here tonight," the Body countered.
"Rude now doing those hip movements that safe to say many in here find very off-putting; the Giant should be on his way in any minute now..." McMahon turned towards the tunnel right as Finkel in fact announced, "And his opponent, from Grenoble in the French Alps, weighing 476 pounds, here is the Eighth Wonder of the World, Andre the Giant!"
"Here comes the big guy now; Andre with that determined look on his face as he heads towards the ring, slapping hands with everyone along the aisle; the Giant has defeated hundreds of men over the years, and tonight he clearly hopes to add Rick Rude to that list."
"Well, McMahon, I predict Rude will prove you quite wrong."
"Only time will tell. Andre's in the ring, there goes the bell, and we're underway. Rude coming straight at Andre, swings a hard blow to the chest-but Andre picks him up around the waist and hurls him halfway across the ring!" McMahon proclaimed, accompanied by half the arena cheering loudly, "Andre the Giant dragging Rick Rude backwards and now the big elbow drop into the chest. A cover: one, two...last minute kickout by Rude. Andre whips him into the corner; Rude tries desperately to get out of the way, but the big splash by Andre. Andre turns around and now ramming the rear end into Rude repeatedly; a look there at Bobby Heenan, who's looking very nervous; so far his man's shown no offense whatsoever."
"Hey, it's still early; Rude has plenty of time to come back in this one."
"Rick Rude looking dazed as Andre finally relents the bumps; Rude whipped into the ropes, he ducks under Andre's boot, rebound off the far ropes-but smashed down hard to the mat by a tremendous right hook! Andre waving his hand over his head to get the crowd pumped up, which they certainly are, and now picks Rude up and slams him down hard! Andre sits down hard on Rude's back for another cover; this could be it...!"
"No it's not it," Ventura shot back as Rude just barely got the shoulder up.
"A big smile on the face of Andre the Giant, who's clearly having fun tonight. Rude thrown hard into the corner again; he looks completely out of it already. Andre with another splash, and Rude crumples to the mat like a rag doll."
"I might consider stopping the match now if I were the referee, before Andre kills Rude."
"Heenan sweating harder now, and now he looks absolutely panicked as Andre with a tremendous suplex on Rude! Another cover: one, two...again Rude survives, I don't know how he's taking all these and surviving. Andre calm, cool, and collected, and now trying a...wait a minute, what's Heenan doing now?" McMahon frowned, "Bobby Heenan frantically waving back at the curtain; has he got...wait a minute, here comes Jake 'the Snake' Roberts up the aisle," his frown deepened at the sight of Rude's teammate in the Million Dollar Corporation trudging towards the ring with his pet's bag slung over his shoulder, "Jake the Snake coming down to ringside; this cannot be good."
"Well you can't blame Heenan; with all the punishment Rude's taking right now, I'd put any backup plans into effect if I were him," Ventura laconically opined.
"Jake the Snake handing a reluctant Heenan Damien's bag, and...oh no, what's this, he's grabbing a steel chair. Jake Roberts slithering into the ring, runs up behind Andre, and nails him with the chair in the back of the head!" McMahon groaned, "There goes the bell; an obvious disqualification for Rude for outside interference..."
"Oh OBVIOUSLY," Ventura grumbled, "Not that Andre went too far in beating Rude to a pulp or anything..."
"Andre enraged, turns around and decks Roberts hard!" McMahon roared along with the crowd, "Andre now picking Jake the Snake up over his head and hurls him clean out of the ring; that chair shot hardly hurt him at all!"
"Well, maybe Plan C then if Heenan has it..."
"Wait a minute, Jake Roberts taking the bag back from Heenan and opening it up; Damien is about to be unleashed here. Jake Roberts with his pet in hand, now back into the ring, Andre turns and...and wait a minute, he freezes up. Ordinarily he'd be moving in to..."
"Look McMahon, Andre's scared of the snake," a grin was spreading on Ventura's face.
"I think you may be right, Jesse, a look of terror starting to spread on the Giant's face at the sight of Damien in Jake's arms...yes, I think he's petrified! Andre raising his arms as Jake slowly steps towards him, thrusting Damien forward; someone should get in there and stop this...!"
"Why, Jake isn't hurting anyone right now..."
"What's the matter, big guy?" a cruel smile was spreading on Roberts's face in the ring as he slowly stepped towards a cowering Andre, "Afraid of a little snake? Why don't you meet Damien up close; he's not going to bite..."
"No!" Andre frantically waved his arms, his eyes glancing around wildly for an exit of any kind, "No, don't...!"
"Aw, can't stand the sight of you, can he?" Roberts snickered to his python. "Yeah, it's amazing what fear can do to the best of us, huh?" he laughed coldly at the Giant, making him recoil with another thrust of his pet, "One moment we're on top of the world, and the next, we find we're nothing. Terrible, isn't it, to know you're a smaller man than you think..."
"Keep it away!" Andre, backed into the ropes, waved his arms wildly.
"Oh I'm not going to hurt you, big guy; trust me. Trust me..." in a flash, Roberts stepped forward, and...
"LOOK AT THIS, JAKE THE SNAKE THROWING DAMIEN ONTO ANDRE; ANDRE CLUTCHING HIS CHEST; HE'S TURNING WHITE WITH TERROR!" McMahon gasped in shock, "Andre the Giant collapsing to the mat, Damien slithering all over him, and...Jesse, Andre is not moving," it was his turn to turn white, "Andre the Giant is not only out cold, I think he may have just suffered a heart attack...!"
"Well I call it justice, after everything Andre did to Rude," Ventura sharply countered.
"That was part of the match, Jesse; Jake Roberts had no business coming down to ringside and interfering in the match, and then doing this. Roberts coldly kicking Andre, who doesn't move at all; this is serious, this is very, very serious, ladies and gentlemen. Somebody get medical crews down there quick...!"
"Hold your water, McMahon; I see the training staff coming out there; if I were them, though, I'd handle Rude first; he took a tremendous beating in there..."
"A heart attack, if that's what it was, trumps anything Rude went through, Jesse! Bobby Heenan dragging the defeated Rick Rude out of the ring, while meanwhile, Jake the Snake standing over Andre, holding Damien high in triumph..."
"And he should be proud; he felled the Giant, and that's not easy by any stretch..."
"Medical crews trying to drag Andre the Giant out of the ring; it's taking every last one of them to move him. Andre remains unconscious; Jake the Snake laughing coldly at his fallen foe as he's loaded onto a gurney outside the ring. I'm getting word from our director to go to commercial, so we shall do that, and bring you any news on the condition of Andre the Giant as it becomes available..."