The scene opens to reveal the Technicians seated across a desk from none other than the BLPW Commissioner himself, JC Michaels. They look a little tense as JC sorts out a little paperwork in front of him, then slides it across the desk with a pen.
JC: There you have it boys. The final pages of your BLPW contract. Sign 'em and you'll get that fun-filled first paycheck.
The Mechanic frantically grabs for the pen and wastes no time signing the bloody thing, while the Electrician on the other hand, skims through it. He suddenly stops reading, or "skimming" if you will, and looks into JC's eyes.
E: What the hell is this?
JC: What the hell is what?
E: This! I will not sign that!
The Electrician holds up the paper he's reading and points to a certain clause. The camera focuses on the clause.
Article 9, Subsection VI: As an official employee of Badlands Professional Wrestling, you are hereby authorizing any and all staff members to call upon you in the event that they need sexual favors. This includes, but is not limited to: oral, anal, vaginal, and any other form of penetration for the purpose of sexual release for the staff member. By signing below, you also authorize any and all BLPW staff members to sell your body for their own profit.
JC stares in disbelief for a moment, then slams the paper down on the table.
JC: Dammit! I knew I shouldn't of trusted that b*tch to draw out the contracts!
JC: Nevermind... I'll take care of this.
JC reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out little plastic bottle marked "White-Out." He removes the brush from the bottle and whites-out the clause on both the Electricians and the Mechanics contracts. Having done so, the Electrician takes his time signing it.
JC: That part of the contract is now void. Don't worry, it'll never happen.
M: But doesn't this mean you have to go through everybody's contract and white-out that clause in theirs too?
JC: Sh*t! You're right! Dammit... now I've got more work to do!
The Electrician just looks at JC, then to his brother. JC hands them both an envelope.
JC: Here... now get outta my face.
The Technicians make haste in getting out of JC's office. They charge down a hallway and disappear as the scene fades to black.
The scene fades back in with the camera following two pairs of feet that are just entering through a door. The feet are moving up and down as if to do a standing jog of sorts, then move over towards a cabinet. The sound of a wooden door opening and shutting can be heard, then the camera moves up to find the Technicians, each with a glass on the counter in front of them. The Mechanic reaches into the refrigerator and pulls out a pitcher filled with a red liquid. The two stop jogging in place as the Mechanic fills the glasses with the red liquid before placing the pitcher back in the fridge. Then, they grab the glasses and hold them up, as if making a toast.
E: To us, for kicking ass, taking gold, and having fun while doing it.
M: I'll drink to that.
The two down the red liquid in the glasses. Some of it dribbles down the Mechanics chin as he does so. When finished, they gently place the glasses in the sink.
M: I'm gonna go shower.
E: Good for you. Why the hell do I care?
M: I dunno...
The Mechanic disappears into the other room as the Electrician sits down at the table. He clasps his hands together and rests them on the table, then looks into the camera.
E: Ya know... I've had to put up with some pretty pathetic sh*t in my career. Hell, I'm still putting up with it. First I had to kick that joke of a champion Dudfield's ass to win the ACW World Title. Then I had to lose the title to someone even less worthy of it than Dudfield. Then I had to get fired. Then I had to team up with Mech and beat the piss out of some jobbers. Then I had to almost sign a contract that said I was a prostitute. Before that I had to boost my little brothers confidence... but this? Honestly, this is truly pathetic.
I mean, it's not bad enough that I have to face not only a terrible wrestler, but a bad actor as well. And now it turns out that he's not only bad at wrestling and acting, but he's got absolutely no confidence either! What is it with me and getting involved with these people that think they're pathetic? What makes them pathetic is that they think they are pathetic! Any other wrestler would've just talked smack back at me... but Satan, the supposed dark lord of them all, can't even believe in himself? Seriously, I think we can do better than that.
If this Satan character wants to be all down and believe he's nothing, that's fine, that's his business. But send him to a head shrinker, not a wrestling ring where he's just gonna get his ass beat and feel even more down about himself. I don't have the time to listen to that. Give me anybody. Dorker T, Mr. Humphries... anybody but him. Now don't get me wrong, I'll still wrestle him, but the next time you put me in a singles match, try and match me up with someone who might actually challenge me, okay?
There is a slight pause as sounds of self satisfaction, coming from the bathroom, echo through the house. The Electrician shudders.
E: Uhh... that's sick. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the occassional beating off time just as every guy does, but he just takes it to extremes. Uhh.
I tell ya what Satan, because I'm such a generous guy, I'm gonna send you some St. Johns Wort. But, instead of swallowing the pill, crush it up and smoke it. Trust me, you'll feel better about yourself in seconds, and as long as you keep doing it, it will last a lifetime.
So there you have it... the official prescription from Dr. Electrician.
The scene fades to black as the Electrician grins mischeviously.
The scene fades back in to reveal the Mechanic just as he's pulling a shirt over his head. His hair is still wet, and little droplets of water fall from his hair to the carpet below. After realizing the camera is there, the Mechanic speaks.
M: So, Osir... Osir... oh f*ck it, I'm just gonna call you oscillator. It's easier for me.
I take it you've put some thought into what I said about your little rhyme. You must have, because it's probably getting pretty tough for you to come up with a rhyme that doesn't say the same thing 100 times over. But that's okay, because I'm sure I'll laugh at it just like the one before.
See you next time. Same Technician time, same technician channel. And until that time comes... ain't nobody dope as me!
The scene fades to black.