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  1. #1
    Senior Member
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    May 2018

    Taste My Rainbow ~ P.S. Eliminator & His Rags to Stitches Story

    P.S. Eliminator & His Rags to Stitches Story

    Somewhere curbside in
    California 2 years ago...

    As some bum on rollerblades glides by, a short stocky man with peppered facial hair approaches the van from the passenger's side. He's carrying a stack of papers under one arm and squinting from the sunís glare which wrinkles the tattoo stretched across the right side of his face. The man circles around the vehicle while glancing cautiously up and down the street. He swings the driver's door open, climbs in and slams it shut. Stashed within the pile of papers is a ziplock bag containing a white powdery substance that he slides out and messily pours on top of the dashboard. After snorting a wobbly line of it through a tiny straw, he swipes at his nose and then stirs the man in the passenger seat awake.



    Saturn: Haha what's the matter, Mike? Ring your bell?

    "Mmmmm clever. I see what you did there."

    Saturn: Well it is your name after all.

    Mike Bell: Gee thanks for the reminder...

    What time is it anyway?

    Saturn: 11:30 which means we need to get our asses moving. That gig in Inglewood is this afternoon and I could use a few doughnuts. Speaking of which- (reaches into trash bag) -I can't survive on garbage bagels forever. We better catch our big break soon or I swear I'm gonna snap. Aren't you tired of performing in every shithole along the west coast?

    Mike Bell: I am. Hopefully today's show turns a profit.

    Saturn: Yeah about that... (snorts another line) I hooked up my buddy at the Kinkos around the corner and he let me scan a bunch of stuff for free. Thinking it can net us a little side income. Here I'm gonna need you to pass out these signed 8x10's at the show. I figure we charge people five bucks apiece for 'em. That's fair.

    Saturn: Hey see that dude standing over there on the sidewalk? Go hustle him.

    Mike Bell: (cracks open door) Sure thing, boss. But if ya don't mind me askin'... why are we selling old pictures of Triple H and Chyna?


    Before Bell can respond or even defend himself, he's struck in the jaw by a fist. Saturn then rotates in his seat and ejects Mike from the vehicle with a double stomp to the midsection. Bell lands awkwardly on his head and doesn't move.

    Saturn: Your ass is walking to Inglewood! And don't you dare bail on me, motherfucker! (screeches off as the passenger door flaps in the breeze)

    Five hours later...

    Parked within a junkyard full of bums and garbage is Saturnís van. The side doors are bungeed open as Perryís leaned in fidgeting with some stereo equipment. A fold-out stage stands erect on the same side of the vehicle with identical posters of Saturn positioned at each end. Heís testing the audio when Mike approaches breathing heavily and stumbles over a busted box fan.

    Saturn: Well look who finally decided to show up. What did ya pop in a liquor store on the way over?

    Mike Bell: (gasp) I just hitchhiked nine miles to get here! Most of them by foot you asshole.

    Saturn: Donít make me shoot on you again, Mikey.

    Mike Bell: Take it easy, man. I just jog-

    Saturn: Yeah yeah how 'bout you start passing out those autographs before I get seriously pissed.

    Mike Bell: Whatever you say, boss. (grabs stack) Hey ya know I was thinking about your stage nameÖ You ever think about changing it? I mean P.S. Eliminator sounds like youíre a military assassin or somethiní.

    Saturn: Are you fuckiní crazy? It combines the glory days of my ECW and WCW days into one badass title. Thatís the only shred or marketability Iíve got left. Why am I even explaining this shit to you?

    Mike Bell: Jesus forget I brought it up. Just trying to help the cause. (scans across junkyard) Christ itís slim pickens out here. Iíll go wake up that dude and see if heís interested.

    Saturn: Yes go do something useful for a change. Alright itís showtime. (snatches mic and crawls on stage) Good afternoon, Inglewood! Looks like weíve got a late arriving crowd today. No worries. Those of you on hand are about to get rocked out of your tube socks with some kickass music! Iím P.S. Eliminator; a cover artist of sorts whose taken some classic WWE theme songs and morphed them into my own. This first one Iím gonna play for you deals with my ongoing struggle with narcotics and the seductive traits they possess. So take a puff and prepare yourselves for the trip of a lifetime! (cues up the instrumental to Sunnyís entrance track)

    I know you want meeeeee
    I know you want me (I know you want me junkie)
    I know you want me (I can feel your eyes watching me)
    I know you want me (I bet youíd love to have your hands on me)
    I know you want me
    I know that you want my drug
    Dirty thoughts, dirty mind
    I feel your eyes steering from behind (ya, ya)
    You want my dust, you want my touch
    You want to do things you never discussed
    I know your thinking about the things I could do to you
    I know your dreaming what you would do with me
    I've seen the best of them all come and go
    There's not a man out there who's man enough for me
    I know you want me late at night (everyday)
    I know you want me with the fresh morning light (all the time)
    I know you want me till' you can't get enough
    I know you want me
    I know that you want my love (I know you want me junkie)
    I know that you want my love (ooooohhhh)
    I know you want me (yeah I know you want me)
    I know you want me (everyday man)
    I know you want me (oh yeah)
    I know you want me
    I know that you want my love
    I know that you want my love (I know you want me junkie)
    I know you want me
    I know you you need, need, need my drug.....

    A toothless woman is dancing at the foot of the stage while a couple others rummage through the row of dumpsters behind her.

    Saturn: Yeah this chick gets it! Wooo if that doesnít grab you by the balls, I donít know what will. Maybe this female in the front hahaha. Okay this next oneís called ďIím Just a Mexi-BoyĒ. Alot of people have mistaken me over the years for being Mexican. Iím not but me and my boy Eddie - God rest his soul - were basically like brothers so I feel Hispanic in a spiritual sense. So settle in and be sure to buy a signed 8x10 off my business partner Mike B- (pauses) -wait where is that piece of shit? Donít tell me he ran off with my autographs to score a fix!

    Saturn throws the mic down and jumps off stage. He hurries over to an area where there seems to be heavier hobo activity.


    Crackhead: Oh yeah they were scattered all over the place so I scooped Ďem up.

    Saturn: Aw for fuck sake, I canít count on Mikey for nothin!

    Crackhead: Hey what can I tell ya? Finders keepers. Signed autographs of Triple H and that Chyna chick who ODíed should fetch a pretty penny now that sheís dead.

    Saturn: Listen guy thatís great and all but youíve gotta pay for those first.

    Crackhead: Well most of them are worthless now. That portajohn across the street was out of toilet paper so I had to improvise. Fun show though. Catch you next time, P.S.... Intimidator was it?

    Saturn: Eliminator dammit! And I expect to be reimbursed at some point, pal! Youíre telling me you literally couldnít find anything else in this entire dump to wipe your stinkhole with?! You sick f-

    ďThatís quite a performance you gave up there.Ē

    Saturn spins around to find himself face to face with John Laurinaitis. WWEís senior producer is flanked by two security guards who look like Bane clones.

    Saturn: Great. This shit parade just keeps getting worse.

    Laurinaitis: Perry, always a pleasure.

    Saturn: Cut the crap you corporate puppet. Whatís this about?

    Laurinaitis: You know exactly why Iím here. Weíve been having these little run-ins for the better part of a year now. You know weíre sympathetic to yourÖ current situation but this silly scheme needs to end.

    Saturn: Scheme? Ha! Gimme a break. You and that old codger just canít stand me making my own brand without WWE getting a chunk of the profits.

    Laurinaitis: Vince is done dealing with this issue, Perry. Heís prepared to take legal action if you donít stop trying to market and sell company-owned material as your own. You do realize youíre in violation of several different copyright and licensing laws, donít you?

    Saturn: Eat a dick, Laurinaitis. Itís called creative expression. Now if ya donít mind, thereís money to be made and your hired monkeys are scaring off potential customers.

    Laurinaitis: Fine. Keep digging your grave then. Iím tired of making these pointless trips anyway. Címon fellas. (motions towards a limo parked down the street) Akam, I need you to fetch me another carton of chokes when we get back to the hotel.


    The following morning...

    *knock knock knock*

    Saturn: (jolts awake) Sorry officer, Iíll move the van right away!

    ďYo itís me, Perry! Open up!

    Saturn: Who- Dammit Doug, I thought you were a cop! (rolls window down) You holdin?

    Dealer: Always. I was just making a sale and spotted your van. Dude how about Kronik, huh?

    Saturn: I mean I guess Iíll take some weed if youíre low on coke.

    Dealer: Nah man I mean Clark and Adams! You didnít hear? Word going Ďround is they screwed over the wrong people and paid for it last night. Sounds like theyíre in pretty bad shape.

    Saturn: Those fuckiní morons. I told them to be careful sampling beats from established acts. You know where I can find Ďem?

    Dealer: Yeah theyíre over at LA Community Hospital. I was gonna drop by later and visit.

    Saturn: Alright cool. Iíll square up with you there. Iím a little low on funds at the moment but Olympic Boulevardís a hotspot for making a few bucks off my CDs. Iím gonna head over and check on them as soon as Mikey gets back. Where is that kid anyway? I mustíve sent him on a supply run an hour ago!

    Saturn: I still canít believe you were sleepiní in the back that whole time. You know how long I sat waiting in that van?

    Mike Bell: How many times do I have to apologize? Iíll make it up to you, boss. Promise.

    Saturn: Wanna know how you can make it up to me? Sell some fuckiní CDs. You also owe me for taking off yesterday during the show. Thanks for that by the way. I had no backup when Laurinaitis showed up with his thugs and some piece of shit stole all my signed 8x10s.

    Mike Bell: I donít understand why we even bother with photos, boss. Theyíve never sold well. Remember how hard it was getting rid of those Radicalz autographs?

    Saturn: Yeah well Benoit kinda killed their value. CíMON PEOPLE, GET YOURSELF A COPY OF P.S. ELIMINATORíS GREATEST WWF HITS.


    Saturn: Tweak the wording, Mikey. Weíre not out here selliní energy drinks. EXCUSE ME, MISS! Are you or your family wrestling fans?

    ďNo sorry, Iím not interested-Ē

    Saturn: Surely your husband or brother grew up watching it?

    ďActually Iím divorced and an only child so-Ē

    Saturn: Each song tells a different story. For instance, ďNation of DominationĒ is a BDSM track and then thereís ďYou Start the FireĒ which obviously is about syphilis but hey perhaps a pretty woman such as yourself prefers something more cleancut like-

    ďPlease just leave me alone.Ē (hurries away)

    Saturn: ...LESBIAN!

    Mike Bell: Boss, you need to work on your people skills.

    As Saturn shoots Mikey the death store, a payphone further down the sidewalk begins to ring. They both look around and notice nobody else acknowledges the noise. Mike shrugs at Saturn and walks over to answer.

    Mike Bell: Hello?... Who?... Alright hold on. (turns to Saturn) Itís for you, boss.

    Saturn: Yeah?

    ďHi this is Jim Studebaker with uhhh Thrift Shop Records.Ē

    Saturn: Wait a record label, you said?

    Music Agent: Yes, sir.

    Saturn: I see. And howíd you know to reach me here?

    Music Agent: Oh I have my sources when I need to contact someone. Listen if youíre not too busy, Iíd love to meet up and discuss doing business together. One of my reps tracked down your stuff and I was quite impressed. Are you free?

    Saturn: Right now? Not at this very moment but maybe in like an hour or so? Where are you located?

    Music Agent: 1028 North Sycamore Ave. The secretary at the front desk will direct you from there.

    Saturn: Okay awesome. Iím looking forward to it. Thank you, Mr. Studebak-(click)

    The music agent hangs up abruptly and Perry cracks a rare smile. He spins around and seizes Mike by the shoulders.

    Saturn: This is our big break, Mikey! That was a guy from Thrift Shop records! He wants to meet with me today!!

    Mike Bell: Thrift Shop Records??? Sounds made up.

    Saturn: Donít you ruin this for me, Mikey. Now listen I want you to stay here and keep hustling. Iím gonna spend a few minutes with Clark and Adams then head for this meeting. Weíll meet up afterwards to celebrate. In the meantime, SELL BABY SELL.

    Mike Bell: But Iíve gotta take a piss and thereís no-

    Saturn: MAKE ME PROUD!

    Random bystanders stop to stare as he races down the sidewalk and disappears into the hospital.

    [ROOM 1335]

    Saturn: Hooooly shit. What happened to you two?

    Clark: Is that you, Perry? I canít see too well from this angle.

    Saturn: Yeah itís me, Clark. You hanginí in there, Adams?

    Adams: Funny. You know you can call us by our first names, right?

    Saturn: Why would I? Youíre both Brian. Itís confusing as fuck.

    Clark: He makes a fair point, Adams.

    Adams: Oh so now youíre doing it too?

    Saturn: FELLAS, ITíS NOT IMPORTANT. Forget about that shit and tell me who did this to you.

    Clark motions towards a table between them with great difficulty and Saturn notices a CD case. He walks over and picks it up.

    Saturn: You didn't think to take Dr. Dre's name off the cover?

    Adams: What do we look like? Web designers?

    Clark: I figured it'd make us seem more credible within the hip hop community.

    Saturn: Wait I thought you guys recorded a dance mix?

    Clark: Yeah isn't that what hip hop is?

    Saturn: (facepalm) Jesus Christ.

    Adams: Nah it's definitely not a religious album.

    Saturn: What? I didn't m-(sees clock on wall) Ahhh listen Iíve gotta jet, guys. Sorry but thereís a bunch on my plate at the moment. Iíll hopefully be dropping by later though with big news! Rest up and NO MORE RECORDING until we talk more.

    After power walking 12 blocks, Saturn finds the right address and enters the building. Heís greeted by the agentís secretary and led to a board room on the fifth floor. Saturn strolls in and stops quickly at the sight of a squat, balding man in a suit. Itís a familiar face; one he hasnít seen in ages.

    ďHello Perry.Ē

    Saturn: (observes the rest of the room) Paul? What is this? A rib?

    Heyman: In a manner of speaking. Why donít you take a seat?

    Saturn: Whereís Mr. Studebaker? Is he runniní late?

    Heyman: Mister who?

    Saturn: Studebaker! The music agent who called me earlier. We were suppos-

    Heyman: Perry, there is no music agent. They concocted a story to lure you here because-

    Saturn: They? Who the fuck are they!?

    Heyman: LAURINAITIS SET THIS ALL UP. Heís tried to reason with you multiple times but it hasnít worked. So Vince thought if he sent an old friend, you might be influenced to drop this sham of a-

    Saturn: Some fucking friend you are! How longís it been since we last talked? Youíre liviní the life while Iím barely getting by. Then I finally see you and itís to mock my music!?

    Heyman: Iím here to help you, Perry! This is it! If you donít agree to give this music career fantasy a rest, Laurinaitis is gonna shut you up by any means necessary.

    Saturn: Nobodyís ever supported this dream of mine! Musicís my passion! Itís my livelihood and anyone who jeopardizes that can kiss my ass when I make it big! FUCK YOU, PAUL! LAURINAITIS TOO! (storms out of board room)

    Heyman: Iím serious, Perry! Itís not safe out there!

    Paulís warnings echo throughout the hallway until Saturn bursts into the stairwell and races down to the lobby while cursing under his breath. The secretary mutters something but Saturn ignores her and pushes through a revolving door. Saturn darts into an alleyway and starts pacing when Mikey appears.


    Mike Bell: Whoa boss, whatís wrong? Rough afternoon?


    Mike Bell: Wait you donít have to-GAHHH

    Saturn wraps his hands around Mikeyís neck and squeezes as hard as he can. Bell gags and tries to loosen Perryís grip but canít breathe. Heís on the verge of passing out when Saturn suddenly sees a tall, dark-haired man approaching from behind Mikey and lets go.

    Saturn: WHAT THE FUCK!!

    Wade raises his gun, aims it at them and fires. Saturn grabs Mikey in a panic and uses him as a shield but the bullet strikes Perry in the left shoulder regardless. He hits the ground and loses consciousness for a second. When Saturn comes to, he raises his head to see that Mikeís vanished.

    Saturn: Of fuckiní course. YOUíRE A DEAD MAN, MIKE BELL.

    Wade saunters over and crouches next to Saturn.

    Barrett: Mike Bell? As in the jobber you snapped and beat the shit out of on Sunday Night Heat?

    Saturn: It was Metal.

    Barrett: Whatever the case, he croaked years ago. A drug-induced heart attack if memory serves. What - was he your little imaginary friend? Ha how pathetic. He probably formed in your subconscious out of guilt.

    Saturn: Why the fuck did you shoot me!? Iím losing alot of blood here.

    Barrett: Eh youíll live. (wipes gun with Saturnís shirt) Laurinaitis sent me. I left WWE back in May but still do freelance work for the company on occasion. Lord knows the royalties from that Eliminators movie arenít gonna go far.

    Saturn: Listen (sits up slowly and groans) Youíre a young, good-lookiní dude. We should go into business together. What about a dual act? Can you sing or DJ?

    Barrett: You never learn, do you? (stands and stashes gun in belt) Iíd strongly suggest you never sing or record anything ever again. And while a very very small part of me appreciates the offer, Iím concentrating solely on my acting career for now. (begins to leave alley)

    Saturn: Yeah well Iíve never seen you in anything decent so you must be a shit actor. And after this, Iíll make sure you never get anywhere in this city. I know alot of people around LA, punk! One call and youíll be in a wheelchair by the weekend! You hear me?! Youíre finished!

    Wade sees a cinderblock and stops. He scoops it up while Saturnís still ranting and chucks the object at his head. It connects and Saturn hits the ground with a nasty thud.

    Barrett: Thereís your bloody finish.



  2. #2
    Mediocrity at it's finest kingzak13's Avatar
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    May 2018
    I have no idea what to say in response to this.

    Welcome back Skitz, nice to have you around again.

  3. #3
    LOP's part time glass ceiling DynamiteBillington's Avatar
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    May 2018
    Quote Originally Posted by kingzak13 View Post
    I have no idea what to say in response to this.
    This is why I haven't commented.

  4. #4
    HUGE Member TheLAW's Avatar
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    May 2018
    What in the long winded bag of WTF was this? I don't know whether to be angry or laugh. Good to see you Skittles

  5. #5
    Forgotten Ponder
    Join Date
    May 2018
    If this is a 1994 Bob Backlund return, I'm all for it

  6. #6
    The Brain
    Join Date
    May 2018
    Not sure who I'm put more in mind of, Unc or Freeman. Gonna go with Unc based on the level of fucked up we got to. I had to look up the Mike Bell incident, haven't had to do something like that for a column in a while! Always glad to see something unapologetically weird in the CF!

  7. #7
    Senior Member
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    May 2018
    Zak ~ I was out running errands on Sunday when I saw your comment and it legit had me laughing in public. Mostly because it's the exact same reaction I had after posting this. Appreciate the warm welcome but, more importantly, a big CONGRATS to you for winning COTM last month. You've been busting your ass around here for years and it's nice to see that effort rewarded.

    Dyno ~ You've really gotta write some inexplicable shit to leave a bunch of wrestling marks speechless. I almost didn't post this because of how irrelevant and erratic it reads but had to exercise said demon before returning to my usual nonsense. Notice I left the door open though for a P.S. Eliminator sequel should the well in my brain every run dry on ideas!

    LAW & Disorder ~ Haha somewhere between rage and tears sounds about right for your typical SkitZ column. I (kinda) had an end goal in mind but getting there just seemed to take forever. There were a couple main bits I wanted to hit on but connecting them all together led to a lot of filler dialogue. Clearly fiction doesn't play to my strengths.

    Randall ~ Let's just chalk this up to a creative misfire and toss it in the trash... so RAW's writing staff can scoop it up and recycle the plot of my story on next week's show. Catching up on all the episodes I missed has been borderline excruciating. God bless SmackDown. Becky and Bryan have made it a tad less torturous.

    Mizfit ~ It probably comes as no shock that I take the Freeman/Unc nod as a compliment. I half expected you to respond with something along the lines of "this was a swing and a miss for me, SkitZ" but there's so much thrown at the reader that perhaps it's impossible. Flexing my creative muscle occasionally leads to some crazy storytelling like this but, at the very least, I try to include an underlying message... and this didn't really have one. In any event, back to my regularly scheduled programming!

  8. #8
    HUGE Member TheLAW's Avatar
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    May 2018
    Lmao I wouldn't say it wasn't a strength. Maybe not 100 percent for me, but it got views, replies, amd made conversation about Perry Saturn happen in 2018... So it did it's job.

  9. #9
    Senior Member
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    Sep 2018
    The only memory I have of Perry Saturn is that he was a character on Smackdown 2 on the Ps1 lol

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