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Narrator: On this episode of "Spirit Hunters." The Domino and Luke Warm investigate a haunted ballroom.

BigBOSS: Several reports of levitation. Women's shirts being pulled up. Beers being thrown. Guys being possessed and forced to recite dirty cheerleading chants....

Narrator: What spirits are spreading fear instead of cheer, in this ballroom?

Candy Cantaloupes: Man, my ass is FREEZING!

RVS: Why is your ass that cold?

Narrator: Will the spirits make SAPS want to cheer...or scream?


Narrator: All on this episode of "Spirit Hunters."

[Spooky intro music begins playing. There is a shot of a van with the SAPS logo on it, and The Domino and Luke Warm arguing in front of it. Cut to a shot of Domino, who spins around just in time to have the shot frozen and turned to black and white.]

The Domino
Lead Investigator

[Cut to a shot of Luke Warm, drinking a Luke-Hoo, and then STONECUTTING an invisible entity before being frozen and turned to a black and white still shot.]

Luke Warm
Lead Investigator

[Cut to a shot of Masked Investigator-In-Training talking into a microphone, before being frozen and turned into a black and white still shot.]

Masked Investigator-In-Training

[Cut to a shot of Rob Van Spam inhaling, and then exhaling a huge puff of smoke that is frozen and turned into a black and white still shot.]

Rob Van Spam
Toke Manager

[Cut to a shot of Candy Cantaloupes jumping rope, before being frozen in mid-jump and turned into a black and white still shot.]

Candy Cantaloupes
Chick For Rating's Purposes

[Cut to a shot of Unit 5, not doing anything in particular, before being turned into a black and white still shot.]

Unit 5

[Cut to various spooky shots, including a picture of a black cat, a guy wearing a sheet, DJ Spooky, and a picture of David Duchovny wearing nothing but a tea cup. Finally, we get a picture of some generic house in negative lighting.]

Wavy Caption: Spirit Hunters

The Briefing
SAPS Headquarters
2:35 p.m.

Caption: San Andreas Paranormal Society
Sin City

[The SAPS team is seated in a little office when Luke Warm and The Domino enter.]

The Domino: ... Finally...the Domino...HAS COME SAPS.

[Everyone applauds like trained monkeys.]

TD: Alright, jabronies! Luke Warm and The Domino and the rest of you pieces of trailer park trash are gonna be going to the BOB Ballroom at the Riviera Hotel tonight. The Domino says there have been all kinds of reports of paranormal activity, if ya smell what the Domino's stirrin'.

Luke Warm: We've had full body aparatitions.

RVS: Dood, did you just say aparatitions.

LW: Are you sassin' me you summmmmmbitch?

RVS: Yeah.

LW: Remind Luke Warm to layeteh the Luketh down on you later. *Ahem-hem-hem* There have been reports of demon possession.

Unit 5: *Rumble*

LW: Floating chairs.

Unit 5: *Rumble*

LW: Flying beer.

Unit 5: *Rumble*

LW: Bleeding walls.

Unit 5: *Rumble*

LW: I said bleeding walls!

Unit 5: *Rumble*

LW: So we're gonna bring the DVR.

Unit 5: *Rumble*

LW: The digital thermometer.

Unit 5: *Rumble*

LW: EMF scanners!

Unit 5: *Rumble*

LW: Infrared cameras.

Unit 5: *Rumble*

LW: Thermal cameras!

Unit 5: *Rumble*

LW: Night vision cameras!

Unit 5: *Rumble*

LW: And don't forget the Luke-Hoos. And that's the lower latitude! Now let's do it!

[STONECUTTER on Rob Van Spam. HUGE POP and rumbles from the SAPS team. Cut to outside, where Rob Van Spam and Masked-Investigator-In-Training are busy loading up the van. Candy walks out wearing a see-through white-top and cut-off jean shorts. RVS drops a pen.]

RVS: Hey, Candy. You mind getting that for me?

CC: Sure.

[Candy bends over. RVS takes out a camera and zooms in on her ass.]

RVS: Dood...nice!

[Candy hands him the pen.]

The Domino: Are we ready, jabronie?

RVS: Ye--

The Domino: IT DOESN'T MATTER IF WE'RE READY, JABRONIE! Now know you're role...and roll The Domino a doobie!

RVS: Sure, dood!

[Cut to shots of the SAPS van driving down a street. Inside the van, The Domino has his shades on and is not very animated. Warm is wearing a FOCK YAHOO DRINK LUKE-HOO T-shirt.]

LW: This should be a great case, Domino.

TD: Take a right here at Domino Rally Drive, jabronie. Then pull over at the corner of Tip Over Avenue. The Domino needs...and the Domino MEANS NEEDS...some Cheetos, you bionic baldie.

LW: It's high time I layeth the Luketh down on you.

[Cut to a black screen.]

Caption: Riviera Hotel, Sin City
5:05 p.m.

[Cut to a shot of the SAPS van pulling up in front of the hotel. BigBOSS walks out the front doors and approaches Luke Warm and The Domino.]


Caption: BigBOSS


BigB: That's me.

LW: Luke Warm, from SAPS. How are ya?

BigB: Good.

LW: What?

BigB: Fine.

LW: What?

TD: Ignore him. The Domino says this is The Domino, from SAPS. We're here to help, you roody poo.

BigB: Um. Great?

RVS: Dood! Rob!

BigB: Hi. Well, why don't we head in and I'll show you where to set up.

LW: What?

[Cut inside to the BOB Ballroom.]

BigB: Right-o. Well, this is where most of the activity was located. We had several reports of levitation. Women's shirts being pulled up by unseen forces. Beers being thrown. We had four reports of guys being possessed and forced to recite dirty cheerleading chants.

LW: What?

TD: The Domino says set up cameras around the ring, candy ass!

LW: Where to now, jackass?

[Cut to BigBOSSes suite.]

BigB: In here, the walls were dripping blood.

LW: What?

TD: The Domino says set up a camera in here...

RVS: What, dood?

TD: You see this fist? Domino'sFist! Apply directly to the forehead! Domino'sFist! Apply directly to the forehead! Domino'sFist! Apply directly to the forehead!

RVS: The Domino, I hate your commercial, and I hate your product even more!

LW: Shut up! Where to next, jackass?

[They head to a different ballroom.]

BigB: This is where we believe the Spirit Quad was summoned by Kay Fabe.

LW: The who?

BigB: Spirit Quad. That's what we call them. Specter. Spooky. Ghostie. Supernatural Visitant.

LW: Put Unit 5 on some research. See if anybody named Specter, Spooky, Ghostie or Supernatural Visitant ever died here in the hotel.

BigB: Oh, we also have some EVPs.

LW: Some what?

BigB: EVPs.

LW: What?

BigB: Electronic Voice Phenonenas.

LW: What?

TD: The Domino says...where are these EVPs?

BigB: They're on our latest DVD...Appetite For Burritos! Now available!

TD: The Domino says...if you're scamming us...he will take that DVD...turn it sideways...and throw it out the window!

BigB: No scam. Gimme $15 and you can hear several EVPs.

LW: You got a deal. Pay him, Domino.

TD: The Domino?

LW: Yes, you!

TD: Half.

LW: Ya wanna half-whoopin'?

TD: Fine. Here's the money you roody poo monkey poop skunk bag.

LW: Alright. We'll set up the equipment. And then get this under way. And that's the lower latitude.

BigB: Great!

[Cut to shots of the crew setting up a camera in BigBOSSes room. Then setting up cameras in the ballroom, and the room where Kay summoned the Spirit Quad.]

LW: We ready to go dark?

Unit 5: *rumble rumble rumble*

RVS: Once you go dark, you never go back.

[Various shots of the SAPS team shutting off lights. Once the entire area is dark, there is a loud crashing noise.]

TD: Ahhhh....CRAP! The Domino says put the light back on.

[Nothing happens.]

RVS: Dood, that WAS the lamp!

TD: Ohh. Well that explains why The Domino's boots are filling up with blood...

[Cut down the strip in Sin City to The Camel's Toe. Inside a different, poorly-lit ballroom, several hundred fans were sitting around, waiting for the show to begin. Nurse Heidi is inside the ring, which is surrounded by a rickety-looking cage.]

NH: Alright, everybody, we're about to go live! Let me hear you in 5...4...3...2...1!

Fans: Show your tits! Show your tits!

NH: No! Just cheer like you give a crap about BOB and hold up your signs!

[The fans cheer, and a couple of unreadable signs on ripped cardboard are held up in the air.]

Styles: Hello everyone, and welcome to...uhh..*sound of pages flipping*

Scotty Whatbody: A Chance Would Be A Fine Thing Two.

Styles: Right! Sorry fans.

SW: And people say I'm unprofessional.

Styles: You are!

SW: Well, that may be, but at least I know what the name of this show is.

Styles: As you can see, it's time for the CAGE OF PINEAPPLE!

SW: What the hell does this match even mean?

Styles: Well, as you can see, there are all sorts of lethal fruits and vegetables scattered throughout the enclosed area. This will be fought under SnoreGames rules, which means that the match cannot end until all members of both teams have entered the cage. And this is a large cage surrounding the ringside area, not just the ring.

["Bow Down" by Westside Connection plays.]

NH: Please welcome, the special gatekeeper, Mr. Leary!

[Leary walks out to an apathetic reaction. Once he gets halfway down the aisle, "Better Days" by Tadpole plays.]

NH: And please welcome, the special keymaster, Skeeter!

[Skeeter walks out to an even apatheticer reaction.]

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for the coin toss.

Generic Ref: OK...uh...which one's the heel?

[Leary and Skeeter look at each other and shrug. Skeeter pokes Leary in the eye.]

Mr. Leary: Dude? What the HELL!

SW: Brilliant! Hahaha!

Generic Ref: OK, Skeeter's the heel. As you can see, this side is heads, and so is this side. Call it in the air.

Skeeter: Tails!

GR: *Sigh* Yeah..let's try again. This side is HEADS...this side is it in the air.

Skeeter: TAILS!

GR: Yeah, whatever. Skeeter wins.

[Mr. Leary throws a red flag.]

Mr. Leary: I'm challenging this coin toss.

GR: Me too. Leary's team gets the win.

Mr. Leary: Brilliant!

Skeeter: Not brilliant! Not brilliant! No fair! Wait, wait, wait. I have an idea.

Mr. Leary: Is it brilliant?

Skeeter: BRILLIANT! I should be the BOB Figurehead. I want your job, Mr. Leary.

Mr. Leary: Oh, really? LOL!

Skeeter: I'm not cidding! I mean, kidding! I want to be Mr. Skeeter!

Mr. Leary: Alright. My team's the one with SMP.

Skeeter: Fine with me. My team's gonna kick your team's

Mr. Leary: LOL!

SW: Why is he screaming out "LOL"? That's so retarded. OMG.

NH: And also, ladies and gentlemen, the man who makes the pinfall or submission in this match will get a shot at the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS!

Voiceover: Hey Carjack, why don't you put that big ol' 12-inch on my turntable?

["Thumpin' in Da Howse" plays, leading out DJ Rawkus, one-half of Lay-Z. He flashes several fingers in random order as he hip hops down the aisle.]

NH: Introducing first, representing Lookout, California, this is DJ Rawkus!

Styles: The stakes for this one have just gotten bigger for Mr. Leary and Skeeter, as they are now competing for the Figurehead position.

SW: Great, a stipulation nobody in the world cares about in the least. I hope Leary does lose. That idiot Leary almost got me beaten to death a couple months back by that overweight Samoan dumptruck. I swear, if Leary books me to get beat up by a wrestler help me, Styles...There are two requirements for being a smart ass, and he's definitely got the second part mastered.


["Regeneration X" by Mark Rushton (Random Screaming BOB Catchphrase Remix) plays. Massive Man walks out to cheers from all the ladies in the crowd.]

NH: Introducing next, from Kent, Ohio. Weighing 190 pounds. He holds the Swiss Army Belt! Massive Man Rendition First.

Styles: I understand the opening portion of this match will be five minutes, and then every two minutes a new person will enter the cage.

SW: Oh, man. If Massive Man didn't have to wait, this match would be over in less than a minute. Can we put up a caption on the screen like, "Rawkus suckus," like in those Roadrunner cartoons?

Styles: Jobberus gigantus?


[Leary shuts the doors. Skeeter locks it. They get into a girly slap fight for a few seconds.]

Styles: Rawkus has no hope now. But we're ready to get this match underway. And Rawkus is doing the smart thing. Running away from Massive Man.

SW: Yeah, but the lazy slob is so out of shape he's already out of breath!

Styles: Was that...a DROPKICK? By DJ Rawkus?

SW: You might want to get your eyeglasses checked. Wait. That WAS? Holy crap.

Styles: Now DJ Rawkus is up top? What the hell is he trying? A Leap Of Fate? Are you kidding me?

SW: BWAHAHAHA. That idiot missed by a mile. I'd tell him to stick to his day job, but he's an even worse wigger than he is a wrestler.

Styles: Massive Man clotheslines DJ Rawkus over the top to the floor! Watch out! Massive Man with a moonsault to the FLOOR! Oh my GOD!

SW: You know it's all downhill from here, right?

Styles: Sadly, yes. We're having the match of the night at the start.

SW: Of all the matches to be chosen randomly first...dumb Leary and his deck of cards. Michelle seriously needs to fire him.

Styles: Look out! Oh MAN! Massive Man just punted a coconut right into DJ Rawkus's face! Oh NO! Coco-nut shot!

SW: He's gonna be rappin' soprano after that one, Mikey. And the fans are booing Massive Man? He's not the heel! Cheer him you idiots! I don't wanna have to give heel support to a loser from Ohio!

Styles: He's got the Swiss Army Belt, Scotty, what are you talking about? He's a champion.

SW: Only until he's got the balls to face Alex Smith or Randall Mooby.

Styles: You're kidding, right?

SW: You'll see. My boys are going straight to the top! They beat DJ Rawkus in quicker time than Massive Man.

Styles: He CAN'T beat him yet!

SW: See? That just proves my boys are way tougher than Massive Man.

Styles: It proves nothing.

SW: Except that I'm right.

Styles: Shut up! DJ Rawkus just grabbed something. Corn on the cob to the face by Rawkus. That staggers Massive Man a bit.

SW: Isn't it nice to know that rather than feed the homeless, we waste food in a meaningless gimmick match?

Styles: That's a horrible way to look at it.

SW: BOB: Let 'em starve! Or, BOB: Fuck Africa!

Styles: Scotty!

SW: Oh, right, there are plenty of hungry people right here in Sin City. BigBOSS is inhumanitarian of the year.

Styles: Now that's accurate. What the...moonwalk uppercut? Oh come ON! Can Rawkus get any lamer?

SW: Give him time. He hasn't hit his prime yet.

Styles: And I thought it was painful to watch BG James wrestle.

SW: Who?

Styles: Road Dogg? From DX?

SW: Oh...who's BG James?

Styles: Road he wrestles in TNA under the name BG James.

SW: He does? I think you're lying. I've NEVER seen him wrestle.

Styles: Fair enough. Massive Man just delivered at massive forearm to DJ Rawkus. Oh, Massive Man just hit a snapmare using DJ's bling!

SW: The Blingmare Kid has arrived.

Styles: And Snapmare Kid will no doubt get some payback when he comes out here in a few moments.

SW: Is he next? Shit. This match is going nowhere slow.

Styles: Now what's Massive Man doing? He's on the middle rope.

MMR1: Yo-de-lay-hee-hoo!

Styles: He drops the yodeling elbow on DJ Rawkus! Now Massive Man just grinding Rawkus's face into the mat. Ouch.

SW: Not to mention the smells he's gotta inhale there. Eight years worth of blood, sweat and gas...

Styles: Out to the floor now. DJ goes face first into the cage! And he jams that corn on the cob into DJ's throat.

["Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck" by Prong hits.]

NH: Now entering for Leary's team, from Snap Finger, Georgia, weighing in at 222 pounds. SMK...The Snapmare Kid!

Styles: Skeeter's unlocked the door. And SMK is in the cage. He's going right for Massive Man. Inverted snapmare on Massive Man! I've never seen that one before from the Man Of 1,000 Snapmares.

SW: For a guy who claims to be a Christian, he's sure not shy about attacking somebody from behind. Who would Jesus ambush?

Styles: Great, now we'll have all the religious people pissed at us. Great.

SW: If they're not pissed at us on a regular basis, well, then I'm just not doing my job.

Styles: Back in the ring. Snapmare by SMK. And DJ follows up with a pair of feet to the face!

SW: SMK probably also getting some payback for Massive Man ripping off his rip off. Remember Fingerbang XXX?

Styles: Sadly, yes.

SW: Well, when RX came along, there was no more need for FX. I'm sure SMK hasn't forgotten that.

Styles: Didn't XXXtreme Machine turn on SMK?

SW: I don't think so. I think SMK likes chicks.

Styles: I didn't mean turn him on. I meant...betray.

SW: Probably. What am I? BOBipedia or something?

Styles: Look out here. SMK and DJ with a double snapmare! Massive Man is in some trouble here. But I think some reinforcements are on the way.


["Thus Spake The Nightspirit" by Emperor plays.]

SW: Shit, here comes Axl.

Styles: That's not Axl. That's Lord Athackkimentham.

SW: It is? Oh. Shit, here comes Lord Athackkimentham. I hate this dude's name.

NH: Introducing next, representing Skeeter's team...from the North Pole, weighing 225 half of the Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Titles, this is Lord Athackkimentham!

[Lord Athackkimentham charges down the aisle really fast, so fast that he slams into the cage and falls over, clutching his face.]

SW: BWAHAHAHA! That idiot forgot there was a cage there!

Styles: Leary's got the door open. Lord A shakes the cobwebs out and is now inside the cage. And Skeeter and Leary are really getting into it at the door.

SW: Leary vs. Skeeter...smell the buyrates.

Styles: Thank you Mr. Sarcasm. Where did he get that candy cane? Oh MAN. He just jabbed Rawkus and SMK in the eye with that sugary weapon. Lord A with a dropkick to DJ Rawkus. Lord A is throwing his body all around that ring and destroying Rawkus and SMK.

SW: This is almost like having Jesus vs. Satan here, isn't it? We've got a Christian and a Santanist. This match just took on Biblical proportions, Styles.

Styles: I wouldn't go that far.

SW: If only SMK had a fish, this would be a fair fight.

Styles: That's horrible, Scotty, yet again. Mocking religion without a care in the world.

SW: Or a slice of bread even!

Styles: Will you stop. You're so going to hell.

SW: Going?

Styles: This is the first ever CAGE OF PINEAPPLE match. But I doubt it'll be the last.

SW: Yeah, we have to get our money's worth out of this cheap contraption. Is thing at least sponsored by a supermarket?

Styles: I don't think Albertson's wanted to be associated with us.

SW: So why did you just plug them? Albertson's sucks. Overpriced crap I say!

Styles: Well, there's one sponsor we won't have in the future. SMK's got MMR1 set for a super snapmare, but Lord A with the save.

[SMK holds onto MMR1 and snapmares him down as Lord A simultaneously hits a Diamond Dust on SMK.]

Crowd: Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!

SW: Sick spot.

Styles: The fans got that one right. I've never seen anything like that before.

["Mexican Hat Dance" by Arriba Brothers plays.]

NH: Introducing next, representing Leary's team...from Suicida, Mexico, weighing 210 pounds...Insano Mano!

[Mano charges down the aisle, doesn't even wait for the door to open, and starts climbing the cage.]

Styles: Oh no. Somebody dial 9-1, then wait until Mano jumps to dial the other 1.

SW: Isn't anybody going to bleed buckets? This is a cage match, isn't it?

Styles: It looks like Rawkus is bleeding.

SW: No, I think that's from a tomato. C'mon! I want blood! I want blood!

Styles: You're such an efed heel cliche.

SW: Yeah, well at least I don't have a boner from all this fruit-related violence. Suck a squash.


SW: Damn! That was insane! I love car crash matches.

Styles: And this one isn't even half-over yet, Scotty. The fans are definitely going to get their money's worth tonight.

SW: Especially the ones we let in free to make it look like a sell-out.

Styles: Everybody pays here, Scotty. No free rides. BigBOSS wouldn't hear of it. He'd rather play in front of one paying fan than one paying fan and 99 comped fans.

SW: Yeah, you're probably right. This is a pretty big crowd. Maybe we should play at this place instead of the Riviera. Plus, no ghosts, right?

Styles: So far. But we'll see. The night is very young. I believe SAPS is looking into it over there in the BOB Ballroom.

SW: Dude, that show is so fake. They fake all their footage. Why are we trusting them? You know that dude's slogan, DTW. Don't Trust Warm.

Styles: Be that as it may, everybody saw what happened last month. We were definitely having some paranormal activity.

SW: I'd like to make it the normal, especially the parts where chicks shirts got lifted up! That was awesome!

Styles: Mano's back up. Asai forearm smash to Rawkus! Asai forearm smash to SMK!

DJ: Yo! We on the same team, foo'!

IM: Chillidos. ¡Apesadumbrado!

Caption: Whines. Grieved!

DJ: You damn...huh?

Styles: Now Mano delivers an Asai forearm smash to Massive Man. And there's another one for Lord A. He's finally targeting the right team.

SW: Is he drunk on tequila again? I think I can smell him from here.

Styles: With the luck he's had the last couple of months, can you blame him? Axl Van Halen knocks him out and wins the OWTTM. Then the iAd costs him the title match against Axl and they hand the title to XXXtreme Machine of all people!

SW: Yeah, and you were whining like a bitch! Hahaha.

Styles: Mano with a hoodanconrana on Massive Man, right into a snapmare by SMK! And Lord A gets the same treatment. Mano on the apron now. Springboard corkscrew kneedrop on Lord A! And here comes Rawkus with a...don't tell me...A Three-Card Monte shuffle? And the fans are booing Rawkus out of the room.

SW: Booooo!

Styles: And so is Scotty.

SW: What a lame move! Go to WWE where you belong!

Styles: Rawkus charges at Massive Man. But Massive Man catches him and there it is! Sideways Effect! But Mano from behind with a springboard bulldog! Nicely done by Mano there. Mano heading up top. Lookout! Lord A's up there and smashes that candy cane into Mano's skull. Oh no! No! NOOOOOOO!

SW: What the?

[Lord A slides Mano over his shoulder and then dives backward.]

Styles: HOLY SHIT!


[HUGE pop, as Mano is smashed face-first through a table covered in pineapples.]

Styles: Mano is DEAD! DEAD!

SW: Quick! Void his contract! We can't have any dead wrestlers on our watch!

Styles: This is no time for jokes!

SW: If you can't joke about injured Mexicans, what CAN you joke about anymore? Jeez! Everyone's so sensitive!

Crowd: LORD WHATEVER! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* LORD WHATEVER. *Clap, clap, clapclapclap*

SW: They're ALMOST chanting his name. Better than nothing, right?

Skeeter: Brilliant! Brilliant! BRILLLLLLIANT! I guess "Better Days" are ahead for THIS Distorted Icon!

Leary: I have no speech.

Skeeter: He's speechless! HA! Things are coming up Skeeter!

["Are We Ourselves" by The Fixx plays.]

NH: Introducing next, representing Skeeter's team, from Dimension Z, weighing 150 pounds...this is Mr. Paradox!

[Paradox slowly walks down the aisle. The cage door is open, and DJ Rawkus charges out of the cage.]

Leary: Hey! Get back in there!

DJ: Fuck off, L-Dogg! Fuck the cage, fuck the match, I don't wanna win, I'm outie, beyotch! War!

[DJ jumps the Flimsy Guardrail and escapes through the crowd.]

Leary: No!

Skeeter: lol. Your so scrweed, buddy! Make that, screwed.

Styles: Rawkus just escaped!

SW: Jailbreak! Ooh, jailbait! Look at that chick, Styles.

Styles: Snapmare Kid just had one partner smashed through a table, and his other partner just run away like a scared rabbit.

SW: Spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti!

Styles: How is Lord A back on his feet?

SW: I think Mano broke his fall.

Styles: I think Mano broke every bone in his body.

SW: It isn't the first time. Or the last.

Styles: Lord A, Massive Man and Mr. Paradox. What an odd threesome. Massive Man and Paradox were just battling for the Swiss Army Belt one month ago.

SW: Yeah. And Lord A is just a freak.

Styles: SMK is in a gangfight, and he doesn't know anybody.

[Massive Man and Lord A grab a watermelon and set it up in front of SMK's face.]

Styles: What is Paradox doing.

SW: His Gallagher impersonation?

Styles: Oh NO! SLEDGE-O-PARADOX! OH my GOD! That watermelon is destroyed, and so is SMK!

SW: Well, at least he didn't make us wait through a bunch of horrible jokes before smashing it.

Styles: Paradox's feet are covered in watermelon splatter. And so is SMK's face. What a coast-to-coast dropkick. I've never seen anything like that before.

SW: Well, at least he has some seeds up his nose to shoot out as snot rockets.

["Morr Then Wurdz" by XXXtreme plays. Yes, XXXtreme Machine's personal band from North Dakota checks in with the B-side to their classic "XXXtreme". This song is a tinny, noisy disasterpiece that features blender like riffs, badly-timed drumming and indecipherable screaming that in NO way resembles the song "More Than Words" by Extreme, that band from the '90s. Because XXXtreme sucks the shit.]

NH: Introducing next, from North Dakota...weighing 256 pounds...he is a former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS...this is XXXtreme Machine!

SW: Ugh. I wouldn't ever mention he was our champion like it's a good thing!

Styles: Leary's team is in some serious trouble here.

SW: Yeah...SMK and XXXtreme Machine? It doesn't get much worse than that.

Styles: Unless you toss Alex Smith on the team.

SW: Hey!

Styles: Rawkus escaped, Mano isn't moving. And it's still 3 on 2! Plus SMK just got that watermelon dropkicked into his face. Look at this! XXXtreme Machine is in the cage. And he's going right after Massive Man. Clothesline!

SW: XXXtreme Machine has really mastered the suck and duck approach.

Styles: He doesn't look too rusty, despite the many months of recovery from emergency tongue surgery.

SW: Couldn't they have just thrown his tongue in the trash? It's not like he ever really uses it anyway.

Styles: And amazingly, XXXtreme Machine has cleared the ring. XXXtreme Machine is helping SMK up! It looks like Fingerbang XXX has reunited, at least for one night.

SW: Great. They're a little bit older and a little bit suckier than they were. If they start lying about having good jobs and being happy, it'll be just like a high school reunion.

Styles: Well, that didn't last long. Paradox, Massive Man and Lord A are back in and have taken over with the number advantage. And it's only going to get worse in a few moments. Oh no! Massive Man is about to launch XXXtreme Machine into the cage!

SW: Well, at least he can't get any uglier. XXXtreme Machine has a face only a mother could put in a plastic bag and leave in a dumpster.

Styles: Reverse backbreaker with a Spanish twist by Paradox on SMK. And...what was I saying?

SW: That you're a gigantic dork?

Styles: No I wasn't! SMK is down, and Lord A looking to add to his pain as he heads up top. He drops the elbow! Who's coming out next?

["Dark Entries" by Bauhaus plays, because it's so goth and non-conformist.]

NH: Introducing next, representing Skeeter's team...from Nowhere...weighing 202 pounds...this is Axl Van Halen.

Styles: Now we've got Axl and Mr. Paradox on the same team. How can this team possibly keep co-existing?

SW: Well if it isn't BOB's savior. You know...if Jesus were still alive today, I'm sure he'd paint his face too.

Styles: Come on, Scotty! Stop mocking religion!

SW: Please. What could happen to me?

Styles: SMK no doubt would like to introduce Axl to his personal savior.

SW: As long as his personal savior has a dick, I'm sure Axl wouldn't mind getting on his knees to pray.

Styles: Scotty! Stop it!

SW: I can't! The devil's made me do it! Oh no! Is he whipping it out?

Styles: Axl's got...thank god, it's a banana. And he throws the banana right into SMK's face.

SW: And SMK's flopping around like he just got shot. It's a banana, idiot!

Styles: Lord A just potatoed XXXtreme Machine with potatos. Axl's got a carrot.

SW: Hide your rectum, SMK!

Styles: Axl takes a bite. And he spits the carrot in SMK's face.

SW: Axl spits in the face of people who don't want to blow him.

Styles: Massive Man drops an elbow on SMK. Axl's got a lemon! Oh no, he's grinding it into XXXtreme Machine's face. That'll sting the eyes.

SW: When life hands you a blue-haired uncarryable freak, make lemonade.

Styles: Now Lord A's got the Reindeer Clutch locked on SMK. SMK's tapping out, but it doesn't matter, because everybody hasn't entered the match yet. Speaking of which...

["Smooth Operator" by Sade plays.]

NH: Introducing next, representing Leary's team...weighing 240 pounds. Originally from Naples. This is The Smooth Operator...The Sinister Surgeon...Dr. Silaconne M. Plants!

[SMP walks down the aisle with a bag of spinach with a "RECALL" sticker on it.]

Styles: Oh NO!

SW: BWAHAHAHA! Oh MAN! Somebody's gonna have the shits in a few minutes.

Styles: And you've got to wonder if SMP is going to go right after Axl here. But he's basically got to fight four men by himself! And all of them are either former or reigning champions, Scotty.

SW: Well, the E.coli might give him some help.

Styles: Oh NO! Lord A gets a mouthful of infected spinach shoved in his mouth! And SMP's making him chew it! Lord A with an eye poke, and he's spitting out the spinach. Think he swallowed?

SW: No. But I know Axl would if you're interested.

Styles: Ewww. Everyone is concentrating on destroying SMK here. After the last competitor enters, SMK will be ready to submit or be pinned. Good strategy here by Skeeter's team.

SW: Look out! Lord A just got launched into the cage by SMP. I wonder if he knows that isn't Axl?

Styles: They do have a similar look. But I think SMP just took whoever he reached first.

SW: Yeah. I wouldn't really wanna roll around with Axl too much, either.

Styles: Speaking of Axl, he's choking XXXtreme Machine with a squash to the throat. The vegetable violence if off the charts, Scotty. And we've still got a lot of lethal pineapples around ringside that haven't even been used yet.

SW: Just make sure Axl doesn't violate anybody with a banana or a carrot. We'll have to put him on a vegetable predator list.

Styles: And it looks like we're down to the last entrant.

["Lies Lies Lies" by Ministry plays.]

NH: And finally, representing Skeeter's team...from Cloudydale, this is Little Good.

SW: Well, the weakest link in Skeeter's team has arrived. Although, I think Little Good can do some offense on SMK at least.

Styles: But that chip in his head won't let him do any violence to main event talent like SMP, you can be sure. I'm not sure about XXXtreme Machine, now that he's actually won the OWTTM.

SW: He is still considered a jobber. Right?

Styles: I don't know anymore. The rules may have changed.

SW: He doesn't even have a handler! He can't get a push.

Styles: SMP just blasted Lord A with a coconut. That arrived C.O.D. Coconut On Delivery. Look out! Massive Man's got XXXtreme Machine up top. Superplex!

[Little Good puts out his cigarette and gets in the cage.]

Styles: It's essentially five-on-three here now. Leary's team is in a lot of trouble.

SW: Well, that's what happens when you pick a team at random. Brilliant concept, BigBOSS!

Styles: Axl just blasted SMP with a cantaloupe. Little Good pulls up SMK. Sidekick connects. SMK is all done. All they need to do is pin him and this one's over. And look at Paradox brutalizing XXXtreme Machine with kicks in the corner.

Crowd: Mano! Mano! Mano! Mano!

SW: No way! Mano's alive? And not paralyzed?

Styles: He's trying to get up and get back in this one, and make the odds a little more even. Hold on! Check that out. Little Good and Lord Athackkimentham are screaming at each other.

LA: Hail Santa!

LG: Santa's a bloody fascist dictator, you poof! I seen those specials. He treats those elves like slave labor.

Styles: Oh man, this one's getting...weird? Meanwhile, Mano is up and he's got a pineapple! Oh MAN, he just smashed it over Little Good's skull! Axl charges at Mano, but he drops a banana peel! And Axl goes flying!

SW: SMK with a sit-out snapmare on Axl.

Styles: COVER! ONE! TWO and NO! Axl kicks out.

SW: Oh no! Mano's got plastic sporks! Insano Sporko?

Styles: You're right! He's handing them out to SMP, XXXtreme Machine and SMK. And the momentum has definitely swung a bit now. You want blood? You've got it now, Scotty.

SW: Finally!

Styles: XXXtreme Machine's got Massive Man. XXXtreme Stunner to the floor! Damn! SMK just snapmared Axl onto a PINEAPPLE! Ouch. Oh NO! XXXtreme Machine's got Paradox! XXXTREME STUNNER though the table covered in PINEAPPLES!

SW: SMP's got Mr. Paradox. No WAY! NIPPLE CUTTER from the top! He might have just broken Mr. Paradox's neck!

Styles: The fans are loving this violence tonight. But we still don't have a winner, as nobody is going for the pin yet. Hold on! XXXtreme Machine's got Paradox. Oh no! Piledriver on a pumpkin!

SW: I remember that band! The Piledriving Pumpkins.

Styles: Mano's got Little Good!


Styles: Southern light suplex through the table! Bodies and tables are smashing everywhere.

SW: Skeeter's team is fighting back and got the advantage again. We should have gotten some plastic to wear out here, Styles. Pieces of fruit and veggies are flying everywhere. This T-shirt cost me $5! And I can't afford those pricey coin-operated laundromats.

Styles: Mano's got Lord A alone in the ring now. Oh NO! He's got a chair set up in the middle of the ring. They're up top. Mano's got Lord A's legs hooked? Oh dear GOD NO!

SW: The fuck?



Styles: And Lord A just landed face first on the chair, which is flatter than--

SW: A 11-year-old anorexic?

Styles: Well...yes. And I think Mano knocked the wind out of himself.

SW: Either that, or Lord A's farting up a storm from that rotten spinach.

Styles: I didn't mean it like that! XXXtreme Machine from the apron! XXXtreme elbow drop to the floor on Paradox. He's trying to get Paradox in the ring. COVER! One! Two! NO! Paradox kicked out! Unbelievable!

SW: Mano's got the spork! He just sporked Axl, and I think Axl liked it.

Styles: And Massive Man eats a spork.

SW: You eat WITH a spork, Styles.

Styles: I just meant that Massive Man got sporked. SMK's got Little Good. I've heard rumors about this move! One finger snapmare! THERE IT IS! That's GOTTA be it! ONE! TWO! NO!

SW: Heh, it looks like Lord A is trying to leave like DJ Rawkus did earlier.

Styles: But XXXtreme Machine's caught up to him. Lord A rammed into the cage. And again. Uh oh. SMP just set up a table behind them. XXXtreme Machine is biting Lord A!

SW: I thought he got over that whole being a zombie thing?


Styles: OH MY GOD! They just fell through the table! That was the most hardcore bite I've ever seen. And this match, truly, is EXTREME! INCOMING! Mano just hit a running double-jump corkscrew shooting star press suicida to the FLOOR! OH my GOD!

Fans: ¡Mierda santa! ¡Mierda santa! ¡Mierda santa!

Styles: That move was so good, it has the fans chanting in Babelfish Spanish! This is Brawlers On a Budget! And this may well be the greatest cage match in BOB history. Look out! Massive Man is now scaling the cage. Moonsault onto everybody!

SW: It's a damn good thing everybody just happened to huddle up there, or Josh would've looked mighty foolish.

Styles: Massive Man drags Mano into the ring.

SW: Look at SMP just brutalizing Axl out here on the floor now. This is awesome.

Styles: ONE! TWO! NO! Mano kicks out! This one is not over yet!

SW: What the hell is going to take to put somebody away in this match?

Styles: I don't know, but you're gonna have to knock somebody out. And everybody is still conscious in that ring. SMK's grabs Massive Man! Slingshot snapmare onto a pineapple! The innovator of snapmares strikes again! COVER! ONE! TWO! NO! Massive Man kicks out!

SW: Mano's got a broom? Hey, this isn't your day job!

Styles: He's putting all the remaining fruits and vegetables in a gigantic pile in the middle of the ring. What does he have in mind here?

SW: Holy shit! Did you see that? SMP just Nipple Cutted Axl from the apron through a pineapple covered table on the floor!

Styles: Bodies are flying and it's hard to keep up with all the action, fans. There is blood, juices and seeds everywhere. Not to mention the broken bodies! Mano's got a pineapple. He clotheslines it right into Paradox's face! That had to hurt! He's got Paradox in the pile of food and is heading up top! INSANO SAULT TO PARADOX! ONE! TWO! NO! Little Good makes the save!

SW: Alright, Styles. BOB finally got this one right. This match is INSANE!

[A giant foam finger flutters into the ring and hits Little Good in the head. He collapses.]

Styles: WHAT?

SW: *Sigh* Will somebody please taser that fan.

Styles: SMP's in! ONE! TWO! THREE! And as unbelievable as it is, that Sir Hungalot foam finger was the difference in this match!

NH: Here are your winners...DJ Rawkus, Snapmare Kid, XXXtreme Machine, Insano Mano and Dr. Silaconne M. Plants! And SMP has earned a shot at the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS!

[DJ Rawkus hip-hops down the aisle and jumps up and down.]

DJ: Yeeeeeahhhhh, boyyyyyyeeeeeee!

Styles: He has the nerve to come out here after leaving?

SW: See? It pays to be lazy.

[Mike Monroe was standing in the lobby of the Camel's Toe.]

MM: Hello everyone. Remember me? Mike Monroe? Used to be the lead play-by-play man for BOB? Anyway, I'm out here in the hotel to catch an interview with a very special guest.

[Mike smiles. Some guy walks up to Mike.]

MM: Hello sir. Could you please introduce yourself to Brawlers On a Budget fans.

Guy: My name is Ron Stewart. You may remember me from last week when Scotty Whatbody verbally abused my five-year-old girl.

[The camera pans down to see a little girl smiling.]

RS: And this is little Shania. Last month, I promised that Scotty was going to pay. Even as we speak, justice is being served! BY THE GREAT...TINY! The largest midget in the world TODAY!

Styles: OH MY GOD!

[Cut back to the ballroom. Scotty is being attacked by an ugly guy with long black hair dressed in puffy black pants. Headbutt! Headbutt! Headbutt! Headbutt! Headbutt! He grabs Scotty by the throat. He attempts a chokeslam, but can't lift up Scotty. Giving up on that, he delivers an open-hand chop to the top of Scotty's skull, which somehow makes him fly up and crash through the EZ Break Announce Table. The crowd boos the giant...midget? Little Good, Alex Smith and Randall Mooby run out, as the Great Tiny somewhat easily steps over the Flimsy Guardrail® and backs away. Fade out on an unconscious Scotty Whatbody.]

["My Way" by Elvis is playing over a black screen.]

Narrator: He hails from Soemwhere....

[Clip of a masked wrestler standing in front of a brick wall.]

Narrator: He weighs soemthing...

[Clip of a blurry pixelated scale.]

Narrator: He stands soemthing...

[Clip of a a masked wrestler measuring toward a pencil mark on a wall.]

Narrator: His favorite band is Soem 41.

[Clip of a masked wrestler rocking out.]

Narrator: And when he gets to BOB...he's gonna do...soemthing...

[Clip of a masked wrestler scratching his mask.]

Narrator: And he'll be here soemday soon!

[Clip of a masked wrestler staring at a wall calendar and pondering.]

Narrator: Make soem noise for....

[A shot of the masked wrestler clapping.]

Narrator: Soem Guy In A Mask!

[Fade to black.]

Caption: Soem Guy In A Mask...Coming To BOB!

[Backstage, Mike Monroe is heading toward the entrance of the ballroom.]

BigB: Hold on, underling. Where do you think you're going?

MM: Scotty just got hurt. I have to go help Styles call the action.

BigB: That's all right, Mike. I've got a substitute all lined up.

MM: You...what?

BigB: Yep. From our farm league, Havoc Hyperkinetic Hardcore Wrestling.

MM: Huh?

BigB: Didn't you ever see Classix 11? And you call yourself a dedicated employee.

[Back to ringside, Styles is seated at what used to be the EZ Break Announce Desk in a chair that looks to be about three sizes too big for him.]

Styles: Welcome back. This has been a crazy night...

[Suddenly, an ugly obese man with a goatee takes Scotty's chair.]

Styles: Can I help you?


Styles: Can somebody PLEASE turn down his microphone!

The Flunky: I hadn't even turned it on yet.

Styles: What? Who are you?


Styles: His microphone really isn't on?

Flunky: Nope.

Styles: Well...welcome, Dan. It's good to have you here. I think. Flunky, can you get me some ear plugs or something? This is worse than being at a rock concert. My ears are ringing.

NH: Ladies and gentleman, it is now time for the Rumble Royal Match! In this match, there will be 10 men fighting to be the first man to get into the ring over the top rope. The first man standing in the ring will get a guaranteed shot at the Swiss Army Belt! We will start with two men, and then randomly, the rest of the competitors will enter the match.


Voice-Over: 1, 2, 3, 4!

[A Ramones medley plays.]

NH: Introducing entrant number one. He hails from Parts Forgotten. This is Coma!

[Coma walks out dressed in all blue, including a long blue-hanging style mask with the Ispep logo with a giant red X over it. His chest also bares the Ispep logo with a giant red X over it. He's also wearing what looks like a Malcolm X hat.]


Styles: Let me guess...Coma Commander?


Styles: I'm not sure.


Styles: What? How do you figure that?


Styles: What? You don't make ANY sense. WIll you open your script to the right page and quit improvising?


Styles: Well...CoMa Punk it is then.


Coma: Poink narfle means I dance better than water buffalos! Squeef!


Styles: Of COURSE I heard it! He just said it, you big idiot! Will you shut up?

["Enter Kevin" by Vietallica plays.]


NH: Introducing next--


NH: Hey! Let me do my introductions, will you? Kevin The Pyromaniac!


Styles: Yes! That's the rules! Now shut up about it already! You don't have to keep yelling the obvious over and over! You're just annoying the fans. You're giving me a headache! Now stop it! Will Coma or Kevin be able to get over the top rope and win this match? It could happen before any of the other eight men even get out here.


Styles: Can I pay for his ticket back to the minors? I swear I will. And here we go. Kevin going right after CoMa. He punches CoMa Punk right in the face. Kevin's got a lighter! But CoMa with a go-behind straight.


Styles: Yes, I saw it! I just called it you fat bastard! Forward throw by CoMa! He's on the apron, but Kevin trips him, and Coma falls right down on Kevin!


Styles: Great contributions, Dan. Kevin and Coma are all tangled up and fighting to get free here and try and make it into the ring. Coma with a half bear snap! Oh man!


Voice-Over: Regeneration X!

["Regeneration X" by Mark Rushton (Random Screaming Catchphrase Mix) plays.]

NH: Now entering the Rumble Royal...Jim "Totally Packaged"!

Styles: Where is Jim? He doesn't seem to be coming out?


Styles: *Sigh* Coma, excuse me, CoMa Punk and Kevin are still going at it. Coma with a nice power kick sends Kevin into the apron. Kevin is digging into his burnt jeans. What is that? Is that hard candy?

[Kevin jams whatever it is into Coma's mouth. Coma begins sucking on it for a few moments as Kevin stares at him. Coma shrugs as if to say, what the poink? Then, suddenly, Coma's eyes went wide and he spit it right back into Kevin's eye.]

Styles: Kevin just used an Atomic Fireball!


Styles: And Coma is desperately looking for a drink. Those things are spicy.


[Cut backstage.]


[The camera finds Jim "Totally Packaged"--


[Right...I just said that, didn't I? Where is this idiot from? Anyway...Jim is being stepped over by various people trying to get to the elevator. And don't step on my flow, yo!]


Styles: This is Sin City. Who attacked Jim? And why?


Styles: Oh my GOD, will you stop repeating everything? Jim may have just lost his chance at the title here. Do you think Massive Man might have something to do with the attack?


Styles: Technically, NOBODY but Massive Man by that logic.


Styles: CoMa with a...back sleeper? I don't think I've ever seen that before.


Styles: CoMa Punk may very well put the crowd to sleep with moves like those. But Kevin breaks the hold rather easily but taking one step forward.


["Lies Lies Lies" by Ministry plays.]

NH: Introducing next...from Behind Enemy Lines...this is Alex Smith!


Styles: I am not your partner!

AS: (Bullhorning) Ladies and gentleman, I come before you today to warn you of the global elitist slime, who have co-opted the environemental movement and the population control agenda to give birth to what the Bilderberg Group describs as a post-industrial revolution, which in layman's terms means a global economic crash, another great depression, and the total evisceration of the middle class by means of lowering living standards and creating artificial scarcity of natural resources! They look at us as a virus that must be cured! The eugenics movement never went away, it simply re-packaged itself to be more palatable to an increasingly skeptical public and its primary camouflage now fronts as the global warming doomsday cult!


AS: (Bullhorning) No, actually, it would be man DEAD, you bootlicker!


Styles: Alex Smith has joined this fight on the floor. Oh man, he just smashed Kevin in the head with that bullhorn. And there's a shot for CoMa! But it didn't even hurt CoMa, not that I should be surprised. CoMa with a jumping claw! Alex is locked in. But here comes Kevin charging at CoMa! CoMa's got him up! Go2Squeef! Good night, Kevin.


Styles: Woahwoahwhoa! Smith's almost in the ring! But Coma hanging onto his legs. Smith is so close to winning, and god help us all if he actually DOES win.


Styles: Unbelievable?


["Right Now" by Korn starts playing.]

Styles: Uh oh!


NH: Introducing next...he weighs 262 pounds, he is from Phoenix, Arizona, and he is one-third of the iAd...this is Steve Studnuts.

[Studnuts slowly walks down the aisle. He looks at all the fighting on the floor and cooly walks around the ring toward Nurse Heidi.]


Styles: I think he's got his eyes on a bigger prize than the Swiss Army Belt.


Styles: I don't think Dr. Silaconne M. Plants will like this one bit.


Styles: Tell me, Dan, what do you do when something actually exciting happens?


Styles: Can somebody get this man a thesaurus, stat? Coma's got Smith back down on the floor. Suspended forearm wristlock! Smith is in some pain here. Kevin is trying to get back up. Is he sniffing lighter fluid?


Styles: Studnuts is definitely starting to charm Heidi out here near us. Will she give up her phone number? Only time will tell. Studnuts pulling out the big guns now. He's flexing for her and reminding her how flabby and old SMP is! Damn! That's low!


Styles: But Kevin just nailed CoMa Punk from behind. He just grabbed somebody's beer. Oh NO!


Styles: It's a real beer burner here tonight! He charges at CoMa, but CoMa grabs him for a suspended flaming gutbuster!


Styles: He sure is! That beer backfired on him.

["Rising Sun" by Bexta hits.]

Styles: Uh...Heidi?


[Cut to the aisle, as Harker steps out in slow-motion.]


[The camera stays with Harker as he walks down the aisle in slow-motion.]

Styles: Sadly, this is where all the action is right now. Studnuts and Heidi are busy. And Coma, Kevin and Smith are all laying around hurt from this hardcore action.

[douja runs out in regular speed, even as Harker continues walking in slow motion. douja smashes a bong over Harker's head. No reaction!]


Styles: Once he's finished making his entrance, it'll be a different story. Hello! Low blow by douja on Harker.


[Harker just continues walking down the aisle in slow-mo. Once he gets to ringside, his music stops. douja clotheslines Harker from behind and Harker falls to the floor.]

Styles: I guess the magical mystery entrance is over, as Harker is down hard. Speaking of hard...nah...never mind.


Styles: Damnit, Dan! But i think he's about to be cock blocked by douja! Oh man, he just blindsided Studnuts.


Styles: douja and Studnuts are brawling right in front of us. I hope they accidentally injure you, Dan.


Styles: Harker has recovered. And the man whose never seen a highspot he didn't like is off and running from the apron. OH my GOD! Running shooting Seth press! And he just took out everybody with that one.

DE: WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Styles: I can't hear out of my left ear!

["Crazy Train" by Ozzy Osbourne hits.]

NH: Introducing...eep! Next! Ahhh! From! Look out! Ahhh! Yiii! Hallucination Boy!

Styles: Man, Heidi is right in the thick of it.


Styles: Uh-huh. Look at this! Hallucination Boy's on the apron! He's on the first rope! He's on the second rope! All he's got to do is--


Styles: Dunebuggy? Is he trying out a new catchphrase!


Styles: And--

DE: !!!!!

Styles: Man, the reverberation from your screaming is even killing me! Hallucination Boy took out everybody when he dove from that oncoming imaginary dunebuggy. And by my count, we've got two guys left to get into this fray.


Styles: STOP IT! Flunky, get me a steel chair, now. Hello! Studnuts just blasted douja with...what is that?

[Studnuts holds up a small little hand-held video game looking thing over douja.]

Swear Machine: Fuckin' jerk!

SS: Weed.

Styles: So Studnuts was the one who ordered the swear machine last month?


Styles: Eve...Steve? Have you ever seen Studnuts's writing? It looks like he was educated in Harlem.


Styles: WHAT?


Styles: I am not a racist! *Grumble*

Swear Machine: You're an asshole!


Styles: What? Oh, man? What is that?


Swear Machine: Hey, fuck you!

Styles: As you can see fans, there are several skateboards stacked up. It's almost like a skateboard pyramid. Why would that be there?

["Ride of the Valkryies" plays.]

Styles: Tony Hawk, eat your heart out!

[Ken brings out a ladder and starts climbing behind the stacked skateboards.]


[Ken steps onto the top skateboard.]


Styles: Oh my GOOOOOOOD!


Styles: Way to put together a coherent sentence there, Dan. Ken trying out a new grand entrance has wiped out, needless to say.


Styles: It is chaos around here. douja and Studnuts are pounding each other viciously using anything that isn't nailed down.

Swear Machine: Eat shit!

Styles: Bodies keep getting pulled off the apron. Those are the numerous thuds you're hearing.





Styles: OH my GOD! I just smashed this chair into Dan East's skull! I'm extreeeeeme! And somebody send the paramedics.

NH: And finally...from the Brown Side....this is the Undietaker! *Scream*

Styles: And nobody can make it into the ring. Kevin just got pulled down by Smith. Smith gets pulled down by CoMa Punk. Hallucination Boy--


Styles: Takes himself out...Hold on. What just happened.

[Everybody suddenly stops fighting and EVERYBODY gets up on the apron and dives over the top rope.]

Styles: Oh NO! Don't tell me we're gonna have a decagonal-dance next month!

NH: Ladies and are...your winners?

["Taking Care of Business" by BTO hits. BigBOSS walks out with the Medium-Sized Bucket®.]

BigB: Hold on. Nine winners is far too many winners. So, let's take care of this right now in the easiest, least-thought out way possible. Since we couldn't determine one winner fair and square, we're going to have to determine one winner at random.

[He reaches into the bucket.]

BigB: And the winner is...two of diamonds!

[Everybody looks at each other and shrugs.]

BigB: Oh, right. Which means the winner is....Seth Harker! Congratulations, Seth!

Styles: Seth Harker? I smell a rat! Or is that Dan? Well, Seth Harker has been named the winner by BigBOSS, so next month, we will see Seth Harker versus Massive Man Rendition First. It should be Massively Cool!

[Everyone looks ready to attack Harker.]

SH: Oh, be cool.

AS: Well, when he puts it that way...

[Various mumblings of agreement, as everyone suddenly relaxes and starts leaving the ring in an orderly fashion.]

[A black screen.]

BOB Ballroom, Riviera Hotel
8:35 p.m.

Caption: BigBOSSes Suite
35 minutes into investigation

RVS: Rob Van Spam and Candy Cantaloupes in BigBOSSes suite. What's the temperature in here.

CC: It must be cold. Look at my nips! They're so erect.

RVS: Dood, use the digital thermostat.

CC: Ohhh, right. Let's's like...uh...69 in here...hehe...

RVS: That's so hot. Dood, you can totally see through your shirt with these night vision cameras.

CC: Really?

RVS: Yeah.

[She takes the camera and aims it at his crotch.]

CC: Wow, are you part Chinese or something?

RVS: Huh? Hey, dood, not cool! It's just cold in here. Why don't we do some EVP work. Unless you'd prefer some S&M work?

CC: Are there any spirits here who want to communicate with us tonight? If so, could you make a noise?

[The phone rings. Candy and Rob scream.]

RVS: Dood! What was that?

CC: It's the phone. Should we answer it?

RVS: Nah. It's BigBOSSes phone.

CC: Man, my ass is FREEZING!

RVS: Give me the thermometer. Woah. Look at that.

CC: What's my ass temperature?

RVS: Oh, whoops. I was just looking at how hot your ass was.

CC: Rob! C'mon. It feels like some ghost goosed me!

RVS: You were goosed by a ghost?

CC: Maybe! Measure my ass!

RVS: It says...uh...75 degrees. Why is your ass that cold? Want me to warm it up?


[Cut to Masked Investigator-In-Training, who is staring at a computer monitor showing all the cameras that have been set up around the hotel.]

Unit 5: *rumble rumble rumble*

MIIT: I hope we catch something good. We've got cameras set up everywhere. I'm sure we'll find something.

Unit 5: *rumble rumble rumble*

MIIT: Yeah, that one's in the women's restroom. Hey, there could be ghosts in there.

Unit 5: *rumble rumble rumble*

MIIT: No, we didn't set one up in the laundry room. Pervert.


[Cut back to BigBOSSes room.]


RVS: What was that?

[The door opens.]


[RVS bolts out of the room, past Mrs. Behave.]

Mrs. Behave: What the?

CC: Rob, you idiot! That's not a ghost!

[Cut to the Ballroom. Luke Warm and The Domino enter.

Caption: BOB Ballroom

LW: Whoa. Was this ring here before?

TD: The Domino doesn't remember...ghost ring?

LW: It might be. I'm scared. Hold me.

TD: Shut up, jabroney. Look! The Domino sees our cameras set up in the ring. We must have seen it.

LW: What?

[They enter the ring and lay down on the mat.]

LW: That's a familiar spot for ya, ain't it, Domino?

TD: Kiss the Domino's ivory-coated ass.

LW: Anything on the thermal?

TD: Nothing. Oh wait...hang on, what's this? There's a giant bald-headed Luke-Hoo swilling redneck...oh wait, it's YOU, Luke Warm.

LW: Why don't you do a cheer. Maybe they'll come out and play with you.

TD: Quit acting like you're a big shot, like you're The Domino.

LW: Fine. Luke Warm'll do one. *Ahem-hem-hem* Firecracker, firecracker, kick-wham-STONECUTTER. Domino, Domino, what-what-what?

TD: Maybe we should antagonize the spirits?

LW: Whatever.

TD: The Domino says...Spirit Quad! You want to go FOUR on ONE with the GREATEST ONE? The Domino says...just deliver it. You bring the ectoplasm, The Domino'll bring the whoopin'! Can you smell it?

LW: Son of a bitch! Did you just fart?

TD: The most silent but deadly FART in sports entertainment today!

LW: Jesus Christ, son! Maybe the ghosts are hiding up your ass! You're sure as hell antagonizing Luke Warm. Ready to call it a night?

TD: Yeah. We've put in a good, what, 40 minutes?

[Backstage, Mike Monroe is heading toward the entrance of the ballroom.]

BigB: Hold on, underling. Where do you think you're going?

MM: Deja vu...didn't you see? Dan East just got assaulted by Styles.

BigB: Yeah, I can't really blame him. But what's that have to do with you?

MM: I've got to help Styles call the action.

BigB: That's all right, Mike. I've got a backup substitute.

MM: You...what?

BigB: Yep. You remember Xamfir, don't you? He's backstage visiting Kay, and said he'd be our third-stringer just in case Scotty Whatbody and Dan East somehow, both managed to get incapacitated.

MM: No. Way.

BigB: But thanks for the offer, again.

[BigBOSS walks away.]

MM: I will get out there before the end of the night.

[At ringside, Xamfir is now seated next to Styles.]

Xamfir: Ahoy, matey!

Styles: Welcome back everyone. It's been a crazy night so far. And I'm now joined by Xamfir.

Xamfir: Argh, walk the plank, ye lilly-livered parrot. Ye'll meet the rope's end for that, me bucko! The name be XamfARRRR!

Styles: My apologies XamfARRRR. We've got quite a match coming up here. So let's send it up to Nurse Heidi.

NH: The following is the Ultimate D Match.

[Monkey bars have been set up about 15 feet over the ring. A bra is hanging from the middle bar of the monkey bars.]

NH: In this match, the object is to get across the monkey bars and retrieve the hanging D-cup bra. The winner of this match will be the number one contender for the T&A XX Division Title!

Xamfir: Dance with Jack Ketch, ye lice-infested parrot. Surrender!

["Not A Pretty Girl" by Ani DiFranco plays.]

NH: Introducing first. From the back alleys of the softball diamond...this is Nikki Mantle!

[Nikki steps out, looks around at the crowd smiling, and heads down to enormous boos.]

Styles: She sure knows how to piss off the fans in Sin City.

Xamfir: To 'ell with you, ye scrappy blowfish. Prepare for yer doom!

Styles: Right, XamfARRR. She is one dangerous woman. But she's not as, well, fit as Kay and Eliza. She may have some trouble getting across those monkey bars.

Xamfir: She be full of lARRRRRd!


["The Devil Went Down To Georgia" plays next.]

NH: Introducing next, from Atlanta, Georgia, this is Eliza "The Jobber Slayer"!

Styles: You've had quite a few run-ins with Eliza, haven't you XamfARR?

Xamfir: I'll cut ye, ye salty landlubber. Swab the deck!

Styles: You ever plundered any of that booty?

Xamfir: Enough with yer bilge, ye grog-snarfing kraken. Blimy!

Styles: Are you doing a pirate, or Coma?

["Rising Sun" by Bexta plays.]

NH: And finally...from Parts Unknown...this is Kay Fabe!

Styles: So tell me, XamfARR. What's your favorite show?

Xamfir: Gar, Real Time With Bill MaHAAAAAR.

Styles: This is getting as bad as a Ron Simmons promo.

Xamfir: I'd rather be at the bARRRRR. Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me. Speakin' of hos...

Styles: C'mon, Xamfir. Don't start trying to be edgy and controversial. That's how people have been getting in trouble tonight.

Xamfir: I wouldn't mind plunderin' Eliza's cookie jARRRRR.

Styles: See? Stuff like that isn't good. Well, you've heard of pirate radio. Now we've got pirate DVD. Only in BOB. Alright, this one is ready to get under way. Nikki gets the first shot on Eliza, and Kay quickly climbs up and grabs the rungs. But Nikki pulls her off. And Nikki pounding away on both her opponents now.

Xamfir: I'll cut out yer tongue an' feed it to the sharks, ye scurvy-addled swab! I can't wait to get out of 'ere and play GuitARRRRR Hero. Yar.

Styles: How can you afford that game?

Xamfir: With me wages from TARRRRRget.

Styles: Oh yeah? You're working there now, huh? Kay's on the monkey bars. She leaps down and just nailed Nikki Mantle there. Hold on. German suplex by Niiki and Kay is down and hard.

Xamfir: I hear that be how she swabs Seth HARRRRker's deck!

Styles: Eliza's climbing, but Nikki grabs her now and pulls him back down. Belly to belly suplex by Mantle.

Xamfir: Give 'er twenty lashes o' the Cat!

Styles: Kay boots Nikki. Check this out. Now Kay and Eliza teaming up against Nikki. Kay just dropkicked Eliza. So much for the partnership.

Xamfir: This be quite entertainin' so fARRRRR.

Styles: You're right about that, XamfARRR. Kay stomping away on Nikki, and now Kay's heading up to the...

Xamfir: BARRRRs?

Styles: Exactly. She's climbing across. Uh-oh, now Eliza is up on the other side. Eliza and Kay are trying to kick each other off.

Xamfir: They be kickin' the tARRRR out of each other, ye swine.

Styles: Flying knee by Nikki takes Eliza down.

Xamfir: HARRRRRd.

Styles: I hope you're referring to the impact of the blow.

Xamfir: I'll impact her blow anytime. ForeARRRRm! Nikki be rocked!

Styles: Nikki whips Eliza in.


Styles: Man, what a backdrop to the floor! And Eliza screamed all the way.

Xamfir: She may need some C.P.ARRRRRR.

Styles: Did she land on Kay? Damn! Now Kay and Eliza are fighting on the floor. Look out for Nikki!

Xamfir: I hope this be recordin' on my VCARRRR. What a match, matey.

Styles: PLANCHA! And Nikki just took out Kay and Eliza. And Nikki's back in the ring and ready to climbs the monkey bars. She's at the first run. And the second rung. Nikki just lost her grip. She's definitely got a low-center of gravity.

Xamfir: And a fat ARRRRRse!

Styles: Kay and Eliza are back in the ring.

Xamfir: Yes they ARRRRRe!

Styles: They've got Nikki up on the top rope. But they're having trouble getting her over.

Xamfir: Too many candy bARRRRs.

Styles: Nikki knocks both women off. But Eliza's right back up. Frankenscreamer connects! Unbelievable! Oh, and Eliza with a brutal lariat to Kay. Or maybe a lARRRiat?

Xamfir: Don't be stealin' me material ye yellow-bellied dog! I'm almost out as it be!

Styles: You scheduled to get attacked soon? Enzugeri by Eliza takes Mantle down. Knee to the face. Now Eliza's heading up top. Can she retrieve that D-cup bra? Not yet. Kay is up and just nailed Eliza. Kay putting the boots to Eliza in the corner. Kay climbs up, but Eliza's climbing up now too! POWERBOMB! Oh my GOD!

Xamfir: Au revoARRRR, Eliza. It be nice knowin' ye.

Styles: Kay may win this one right now. She should already be the number one contender if not for Michelle's sneak attack last month. Kay's getting close, but Nikki's got Kay's...uh....


Styles: Nikki just got Kay's panties! I don't believe it! She was trying to pull Kay off the bars, I think...did she just sniff them?

Xamfir: I be as hard as a plank, matey. Those legs be spread fARRR apARRRRt!

Styles: Kay's down and oh MAN, is she unloading on Nikki. She grabs her panties back and is putting them back on.

Xamfir: What a booty! I hope this show be rated ARRRRR for full-frontal nudity.

Styles: Atomic drop by Nikki stops Kay's momentum. Nikki off the ropes with a dropkick. And Nikki with a butt splash. And now she drops the knee to Kay's chest. Nikki's got Eliza in the corner. Baseball slide dropkick to Eliza's chest. Nikki Mantle is in full control now.

Xamfir: Did you just fAAAARt?

Styles: No I didn't just fart.

Xamfir: Maybe it was my pet parrot, BARRRRRRt.

Styles: Your stuffed parrot? Riiiight. Nikki's got Eliza on the floor. She's got the chair I used to knock out Dan East. Uh-oh. Nikki's back in the ring and about to launch herself out onto Eliza. KAY'S BOTTOM! Kay just hit Kay's Bottom! And now Kay is all set to climb up. And she falls off.

Xamfir: Do any of these wenches have the ARRRRRRm strength to climb across?

Styles: That's a good question. Kay charges at Nikki, who is back up. Oh, man, what an underhanded punch to the jaw!

Xamfir: That may leave a scARRRRR. Eliza be back in the ring. What vicious foreARRRRRms those be.

Styles: But Nikki is fighting back. Now Eliza's fighting back. It's a slugfest here in Sin City. But Kay's licking both palms of her hands. DOUBLE BITCH SLAP! Kay's grabbing Nikki. She's telling Eliza to head up top. I think we're about to see a spike piledriver here, XamfARRR. Oh NO! Nikki just backdropped Kay into Eliza!

Xamfir: What a smARRRRRt move by Nikki! Climb those bARRRRRs, lARRRRdo!

Styles: Nikki's up top. What is this? She just climbed up on top of the monkey bars. Now she's crawling towards the bra. She's got it! Nikki's got the bra!

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, and number one contender for the T&A XX Division Title...Nikki Mantle.

Xamfir: She showed a lot of heARRRRRt this evenin', matey!

Styles: That she did. Oh no, Xamfir. Look who is on his way out here!

Xamfir: I hope it's not a niggARRRRR!

Styles: No, worse. Wait, what? You can't say that!

Xamfir: Ye think we ought to have used the line about a retARRRRded kid, instead?

Styles: No! I'm glad Mr. Paradox is coming to gut you now!

Xamfir: Mr. PARRRRRRadox?

Styles: He must still be pissed about you costing him that much against Axl Van Halen!

Xamfir: Eeep!

[Sound of the headset being thrown down. Xamfir bolts through the crowd with Mr. Paradox in hot pursuit.]

Styles: And once again...I don't have a color commentator. We are living randomly tonight.

[Once again, Mike Monroe was on his way to the entryway of the ballroom.]

BigBOSS: Hold on, underling.

MM: Ugh. Now what?

BigBOSS: Did something happen to Xamfir?

MM: Not yet. But I suspect he may lose more than an eye in the next few minutes.

BigB: Hmm...this is a problem. Where ever am I going to find a replacement color commentator?

[Mike raises his hand.]

BigB: That's it! Mark Shill!

MM: What?

BigB: Thanks, Mike. If you hadn't raised your hand just now, I wouldn't have been able to see Mark Shill talking to Skeeter over there. Don't you have interviews to do or something? What am I paying you for?

MM: I don't know. Ask Leary. He hasn't booked me any interviews.

[Kurt Angel wanders by.]

BigB: Interview him.

KA: Me? Gosh, that'd be swell!

MM: Alright...*ahem* Mike Monroe back here with Kurt Angel. are you?

KA: I'm great! I'm stoned out of my mind and ready to have the craziest five-star match of my life!

MM: Cool. Later.

KA: That's it?

MM: Yep.

KA: Alright! Look out. The walls are melting. They might be hot.

[Kurt wanders away.]

MM: I love my job...

[Back to the ballroom. A table covered in green felt has been set up in the ring. There are five chairs set up.]

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the Texas Tornado Hold 'Em Tag Team Match. The winners of this match will become the number one contenders for the Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Champions.

["God Blessed Texas" by Little Texas plays.]

NH: Introducing first. From the lower class, this is Randall Mooby. And his partner, from Dimension Z, this is Sir Zeno.

[Mooby walks out, keeping an eye behind him on Zeno, as if expecting to be attacked by his own partner. They get to the ring without incident. Mark Shill then heads down the aisle. Since last you've seen him, he now has a goatee.]

Styles: Oh joy. Mark Shill. This is the greatest moment in the history of moments. Well, the only good I see out of this is that all my color commentators are lasting about as long as Spinal Tap drummers.

NH: And their opponents. First, originally from Heaven, now living in the state of Euphoria, this is Kurt Angel! And his tag team partner, from Transylvania...or maybe Cloudydale...or the Hellmouth? He is one-half of the Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Team Champions, this is Uber Vampire Warrior.

MS: Hello Styles! Terrible to be with you tonight!

Styles: ... Mark? Is that you?

MS: Of course it's me. Who were you expecting? Stevie Ray? Because suckers have got to know! And you can kiss this fruit booty. You yak!

Styles: All those repressed "Thunder" memories are flooding back. Oh my god.

MS: Or maybe I can talk about the new world ODOR! Who am I?

Styles: Wait, I do know this! You're a total douchebag!

MS: Exactly. Larry Zbyszko it is. I've still got some crappy title belt in my attic.

Styles: Well, we've got an interesting...match here.

MS: It's gonna be--

Styles: Here it comes.

MS: The WORST A Chance Would Be A Fine Thing 2 in the HISTORY of A Chance Would Be A Fine Thing 2's!

Styles: What? Who ARE you?

MS: Mark Sabotage.

Styles: Mark Sabotage? I though you were Mark Shill?

MS: I'm afraid not, Styles. You see, I come from the Mirror Universe. Didn't you notice my evil goatee?

Styles: Oh no! You ARE from the Mirror Universe! So you're actually kind of cool in this dimension and totally negative about the product you work for?

MS: You are the slowest announcer in the history of our sport! See what happens when you get all C's in school, kids?

Styles: You are going to be hurt in a few minutes, you realize?

MS: I never say this fans, but if you only ask for one refund on a BOB On-Demand event this year, make sure it's for THIS one, fans!

Styles: OK. Generic Ref is the dealer here. So the Mirror Universe, WCW still went out of business?

MS: Yes. BOB bought them.

Styles: BOB?

MS: Yep. BOB is a huge corporate giant now in the Mirrorverse. You're quite rich.

Styles: Damn!

MS: Yeah. Some guy named John Leary inherited millions of dollars and started buying up wrestling companies. Pay-per-view sales are through the roof. All the positive comments on the Universe Wide Web is disgusting. I bet he's some loser who writes for an e-fed in this dimension and pays for his own web hosting.

Styles: Alright! Let's get to this match.

RM: I bet a roll-up.

KA: Hmm...superkick, buster!

[Generic Ref deals two cards to everybody.]

SZ: I see your superkick and raise you a legdrop.

UVW: Hmm hmm hmm hmm. Slam.

Styles: Oh my GOD!

MS: Yeah, that ain't gonna save this DUD, Styles.

Styles: And here comes the Flop. Nine of Clubs. Three Of Hearts. Joker...JOKER?

RM: Hey, jigaboo, you're supposed to take the Joker OUT of the deck.

GR: Whoops. My bad.

[He puts down another card.]

RM: Rules Of Poker? The fuck, man?

GR: D'oh!

Styles: There we go. Eight of Clubs.

MS: This is the WORST idea in the HISTORY of worst IDEAS!

RM: Shit...I mean...nothing...uhh...hammerlock.

Styles: Mooby must not be feeling to confident about his cards here.

KA: Dropkick. Yeah! Yeah!

Styles: I guess nobody's ever heard of a poker face.

SZ: Manhattan Drop.

UVW: Hmm hmm hmm. Slam.

RM: Backslide!

KA: Chinlock! Yeah!

SZ: Atomic drop!

UVW: Eye rake!

Styles: The betting is fast and furious, and the tempers are rising right with the stakes. What a competitive matchup here.

MS: This concept is the real FLOP, Styles. It's the biggest flop in the history of this crappy sport!

Styles: Is there supposed to be this much betting this early?

MS: I've never played. This is the worst card game in the history of card games!

GR: I'll allow it.

RM: I raise a legsweep and a reverse DDT!

Styles: Oh. My. GOD!

MS: Simmed efeds laugh at this show!

KA: Oh yeah? Knee to the gut! Vertical suplex! Pa-pa-pa-POW!

SZ: Atomic drop from the second rope. TWO dropkicks.

Styles: Damn! That's gotta hurt. In theory.

UVW: Illegal tag!

GR: You can't have an illegal tag. This is Texas Tornado rules.

UVW: Uhh....illegal bite!

MS: This match sure bites!

Styles: Oh man. It's now time for The Turn! This is so extreme!

MS: Extremely bad! It is the most extremely bad idea in the history of extremely bad ideas!

Styles: Here it comes! King Of Clubs? Are you kidding me?

MS: I see why you are No Styles now.

Styles: No Styles? Whatever.

MS: Spinaroonie. Spinaroonie. By god. Spinaroonie.

Styles: Stop that!

GR: Place your bets, boys.

RM: Big fuckin' boot! And a back elbow. Suck on that, bitches.

KA: I'll suck on that. And you can suck on this spear and a torture rack backbreaker.

MS: And everyone can suck my shlong! It's the biggest shlong in the HISTORY of big shlongs!

SZ: Enzugeri. Tornado DDT. You pathetic losers don't even belong at the same table as me.

UVW: Clothesline. Back suplex.

RM: What'd you say, Nosfartu? I couldn't understand a damn thing you said. No wonder why they never let you cut a fuckin' promo. Powerbomb. Suplex.

MS: They be clubbering, Tony!

Styles: Where's my chair?

KA: Facebuster! Yeah! And, oh yeah! Scorpian Deathlock!

Styles: I've never seen Kurt use that move before. Most of these moves, actually.

MS: And you still haven't! Because this is the dumbest show in the history of our sport.

SZ: Botched spot.

Crowd: You fucked up. You fucked up.

UVW: Corkscrew elbow drop.

Styles: Uber Vamp bringing out the big guns now! And Generic Ref is about to reveal The River.

MS: This DVD should be thrown in the river! The most polluted river in the HISTORY of polluted rivers.

Styles: A 10 of Diamonds.

RM: I say, ALL IN! Suplex, Burger Flip, clothesline, and another Burger Flip!

KA: You're on, buster.

RM: Yeah, and you're stoned!

KA: What's your point? Overhead suplex. Botched spot.

Crowd: You fucked up! You fucked up!

KA: Seventh Freakin' Heaven! Angel Lock. Heavenly Slam!

SZ: Martial arts kick. Martial arts brutalization. Eternal Question.

UVW: Hmm hmm hmm. Belly to belly suplex. Impaler. Hmm hmm hmm.

Styles: What will happen if Uber Vamp wins? Uber Vamp and Kurt Angel vs. Uber Vamp and Lord Athackkimentham?

MS: It would be the most retarded booking in the history of BOB.

Styles: Sadly, it wouldn't. Here we go!

[Everybody turns their cards over.]

Styles: Let's see...Mooby has a 5 Of Clubs and a Jack of Clubs. Uber Vamp's got a Queen of Spades and a 5 of Hearts. Sir Zeno has a King of Hearts and a Nine of Diamonds. And Kurt Angel has an Ace of Diamonds and a Jack of Diamonds...which means...who wins?

MS: Who cares? This is the worst climax in the HISTORY of climaxes!

GR: Zeno's got two Kings. Zeno and Mooby win!

KA: Darnit!

[Angel runs around the table, grabs Uber Vamp and Angel Slams him through the table.]

Styles: What an extreme way to end this Texas Hold 'Em Match!

MS: That was so thrilling, I think I may start the World Championship Poker. Are you down with WCP?

Styles: No.

MS: Yeah. You know me. And before I go...since I see BigBOSS is sending down his goons to beat me and most likely steal my wallet, let me leave you with this thought...are we seeing the nWo fall apart right before our eyes? Good night, and don't miss Saturday Night on TBS!

Styles: Get out of here!

BigB: Refunds? The nerve! Ah...I've got it.


MM: Alright. We've been through Scotty Whatbody. Dan East. Xamfir. And now Evil Mark Shill. Can I please go out there and do what I was meant to do.

BigB: You know what? You may have the right idea now, Mike.

[Trey Vincent walks by.]

TV: Yo, BigB. Some retard is laughing and talking about hands in the hallway outside our suite. It's really distracting all the girls who are trying to give Trey Vincent and Studs lap dances.

BigB: Yes! We're saved!

MM: How can you afford lap dances? Aren't you broke?

BigB: I've got to go. I'll take care of it, Trey. Mike, stay here. Do interviews, and do NOT go to the ring.

[BigBOSS runs off.]

TV: Whatever. So...didn't BigBOSS tell you about our deal?

MM: No.

TV: That phone call BigBOSS got last week? That was from me. Trey Vincent agreed to cut him in on a deal Trey Vincent set up with...a certain television channel that will soon be running the iAd's Mystery Sports Entertainment Theater 3000.

MM: Really? That's how you got back into BOB?

TV: Of course. Trey Vincent is sure you've heard of the Golden Rule. Well, there's also the Green Rule. Bribe unto others as you would have them bribe unto you.

[Mike notices something around Trey's crotch area.]

MM: Trey. Uh...what's in the bag.

TV: Trojan poop.

MM: Trojan poop?

TV: Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer. Bottom line...Trey Vincent is gonna be rich again. But as for right now...Trey Vincent has to go have a rock, paper and scissors match with some scrub.

[Back to the Ballroom, where "Under The Knife" by AC/DC is playing.]

NH: The following is a Rock, Paper, Scissors match. Introducing first. From Tijuana, Mexico, this is Dr. Thrilla.

[Dr. Thrilla heads down the aisle in a very generic manner, but to a pretty good pop from the crowd. Dimension Z remains super-over in heel country.]

Styles: Well...we've certainly deviated into "sports entertainment" here in the last couple of matches. I wouldn't call that Texas Hold 'Em match or this one exactly in the league of Flair-Steamboat or...are my eyes deceiving me? GBH? Wow! I am about to be joined by BOB original GBH. He should be safe. Who would want to attack GBH? He's such a likable guy. Hi GBH....GBH, you have to put the headset, let me help you.

["Not All Who Wander Are Lost" by DevilDriver plays. The lights dim and flashing green lights accompany the drums.]

NH: And his opponent. Making his return to BOB. From Minneapolis, Minnesota, this is Trey Vincent!

[The crowd welcomes TV with boos as he steps out, putting his arms out wide, and then up in a "V" shape. He smiles at the reaction from the crowd and walks down the aisle carrying a plastic Great-Wal-Of-China-Mart shopping bag.]

GBH: Duhhhh...hi!

Styles: Hi, GBH. Great to see you again. What are you doing in Sin City tonight?

GBH: Duhhh...whut dis?

Styles: That's your right hand, GBH. And sadly, you are the least annoying color commentator I've had tonight.

GBH: Duhhh...wheeeee!

Styles: Alright. Well, as anybody who has ever been on a playground knows, the rules are as follow. Either Vincent or Thrilla must select a gesture which defeats that of the opponent. Gestures are resolved as follows. Rock blunts/smashes scissors; rock wins. Paper covers rock; paper wins. Scissors cuts paper; scissors wins. If both players choose the same gesture, the match is tied and played again. Did Leary just copy this off Wikipedia? Lazy bastard. It looks like both men are ready.

GBH: Duhhh...WHAM...hur hur hur.

Styles: Oh my GOD! You're right, GBH! Trey Vincent just cheated. He just hit Dr. Thrilla that...a rock? And Thrilla is busted wide open. The fans don't like this one bit, GBH.

GBH: Yur...redrum redrum.

Styles: Now what has Vincent got? Oh NO! He's got a pair of scissors! Oh my GOD! He's driving it into Thrilla's already bloody skull! Stop this!

GR: I'll allow it.

Styles: Vincent is taking "vague explanation of match rules" to new levels here. Thrilla is bleeding buckets out here. And Vincent's gotta be loving this. Zeno put Vincent out of action into a coma. And now Vincent's digging into his plastic bag of tricks. He's got a sheet of paper! Oh no! Paper cuts to the fingers!

[The crowd boos as Vincent has his way with Dr. Thrilla.]

GBH: Cutty cutty cutty...hur hur hur.

Styles: But here comes Thrilla back. He pounds Vincent in the face! I guess that technically is a "rock" according to these rather strange and undefined rules? Oh, and there's an eye poke! I guess those are "scissors." Oh what a slap that was by Thrilla! There's some paper for Vincent. And there's a kick. And...wait...what is Generic Ref doing? No! No!

NH: Ladies and gentlemen...Dr. Thrilla has been disqualified for using a foot in this Rock, Paper and Scissors match. Therefore, your winner, Trey Vincent!


Styles: DAMNIT! That's not fair! Vincent was using WEAPONS, and Thrilla gets DQed for using a foot? And I thought this was going to be the "classic" Rock, Paper, Scissors rules? I'm so confused. But, hey, at least we got through an entire match without my color commentator being attacked. We better go backstage before--


GBH: Duhhh...whut hitted me?

Styles: Did somebody just throw a newspaper at your head?

GBH: Ruh-roh.


[A second rolled up newspaper connects with GBH's skull. Suddenly, a pair of middle-aged men climb over the Flimsy Guardrail®. One is wearing a backwards yellow baseball cap, blue jacket and jeans, and carrying a newspaper sack over his shoulder. The other man is wearing all brown and is quite overweight.]

Styles: What the hell is this? Oh NO! It's GBH's greatest rivals from the '80s! Here, in BOB? That's the Paperboy! And oh MAN! Donk E. Kong? They're HERE? No WAY! Team Pac-Man is BACK!

[Paperboy and Donk E. Kong whack on GBH's head with newspapers.]

Paperboy: Two dollars!

Styles: Stop this brutality! Well fans, now you know what repeated newspaper blows to the skull will do after years. Kong's got GBH up. Banana Slamma! Oh my GOD! This is one blood feud that GBH certainly hasn't seen the last of. Stop it guys!

[A midget in a frog outfit hops out from under Styles's legs.]

Styles: And there is the mastermind! It's Toadder! Oh, he just hit GBH in the head with a joystick! We need to restore order out here fans, something which can only be done through the magic of cutting backstage! We'll be back! Get out of here you little bastard!

[Black screen.]


[Cut to the main area of SAPS computer area.]

Caption: BOB Ballroom
9:50 p.m.

Masked Investigator-In-Training: We're going through the audio now. You know...40 minutes is actually a lot longer than it sounds. Especially since we've been getting ready since like...uh...whenever. Whoa. Listen to this.

[MIIT puts the headphones on a corner of Unit 5 and then plays a clip.]

Unit 5: *rumble rumble rumble*

MIIT: Really? That's just the tape hissing? Man. That's all we got? I thought there was a giant snake or something. Damn!

[Enter: Luke Warm.]

LW: Alright, you sorry sons of bitches, what do we got?

MIIT: Nothing. Somebody forgot to press record on all the tape recorders. And I accidentally deleted all the video when I was trying to download my new antivirus software.

LW: What? What about you, Unit 5?

Unit 5: *rumble rumble rumble*

LW: Alright, you jackasses. Good work. *Thumbs up*

["My Michelle" by Guns N Roses is playing as we return to the ballroom. Michelle has joined Styles at ringside.]

Styles: You sure you want to be there tonight?

Michelle: You think anybody would be stupid enough to attack ME? Besides, Pigeon will be out here to protect me. And if he doesn't protect me, he'll have to suffer.

Styles: Isn't he already suffering enough?

Michelle: Better him than me, Styles.

Voice-Over: Woooooooo!

Styles: There's a lawsuit...

["Kernkraft 400" by Zombie Nation plays. It's that song they play at just about every hockey game when somebody scores.]

NH: It is now time for our Curtain Jerker Hockey Fight Match!

Styles: Curtain jerker? This is like the sixth or seventh match, isn't it?

Michelle: Blame the deck of cards. Not me.

NH: Introducing first. Representing the Parts Unknown Porcupines, this is Pigeon!

[Pigeon steps out dressed in full hockey gear, including the black and brown hockey jersey featuring a porcupine holding a hockey stick that has been shaped like a question mark.]

Styles: What league do they play in?

Michelle: That's his high school team. Though he never did actually play for them. He was too poor to afford skates, or equipment, or, well, just about anything really.

Styles: That's not nice.

Michelle: What do you mean? That's the truth. I'm not saying it to be mean. Pigeon's come a long way.

Styles: Gross.

Michelle: No, Styles! That's not what I meant! Gross!

NH: And his opponent. Representing the Fresno Flamingos, this is XFactor Pete Trable!

[Pete steps out dressed in full hockey gear, including a pink and white hockey jersey featuring a flamingo chewing on a hockey puck. Pete looks mighty pissed to be wearing the uniform.]

Styles: So tell me, Michelle. Are you drunk right now?

Michelle: Nope. We're supposed to do some shots right before our match. And then I'll win the title from Queen Blueless.

Styles: Trable is trying to grab the mic. It's pretty hard to do with that giant hockey glove.

PT: Yo yo yo yo!


PT: Last week, I found out I have two bastard wigga bros
It could be worse, I could be lickin' the cheese from between Michelle's toes

Michelle: What? My toes aren't dirty!

PT: Yo, right now I know I may look gayer than Axl Van Halen
But Michelle, you KNOW, I'm the one you wanna be nailin'
So, I went to a wrestling show and a hockey fight's breakin' out
And Michelle still ain't giving Pigeon the nappy dugout

Michelle: This is horrible. He's just asking for it now! Kill him, Pigeon! Kill him!

PT: Yo, tonight my name's Marty McSorley, and yours is Donald Brashear
And when I'm done with you, I'll give your cummy-headed ho a cervical smear

Michelle: Shut up!

PT: Tonight, I'm the Hunter, and you're the Turgeon
Tonight I am GOD, and you're the virgin
I'm more dangerous than Bob Probert on coke
You about as dangerous as one of Kramer's black jokes
This beatin's gonna be more painful than sittin' through Good Luck Chuck
What about Pigeon? Who gives a...puck!

Styles: Don't get Pigeon in trouble for being third-person in. He could get suspended.

Michelle: Considering I'm the BOSSes daughter, I highly doubt there would be any ramifications.

Styles: And here we go. These two look like they're about to go at it!

[Suddenly, there is piped-in crowd noise to make it sound more like a hockey arena at fight time.]

Styles: The gloves are off. They're circling each other. Good thing they didn't put on skates or they'd be tearing the canvas to shreds.

Michelle: Pete is the star of "Ugly In Pink" tonight. Bastard. How dare he talk about me like I'm some sort of slut.

Styles: How is Virginitiy 2.0 working out for you?

Michelle: Great. Oooh! Pigeon just landed a punch!

Styles: He sure did! That one rocked Trable. But Trable's pulling up the back of Pigeon's jersey. Oh no! Pigeon's defenseless. Trable's nailing Pigeon, who can't see a damn thing.

Michelle: Come on, Pigeon.

Styles: What does Pigeon get tonight if he wins?

Michelle: I hadn't told him yet. Maybe that's why he's not doing so good. He's like a dog. You have to train him. Give me that mic, Heidi. PIGEON! If you win this fight, I'll let you kiss me...on the CHEEK!

Styles: Woah! And with that, here comes an explosion by Pigeon of blind-punches that are connecting. But both men are still on their feet. I assume the goal is to be the last one to fall?

Michelle: Sure. That works.

Styles: This has almost as much entertainment value as having a boxing match on a wrestling show.

Michelle: Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

Styles: What do you think? Pigeon's got the jersey down. Trable is stunned. Can Pigeon hit the knockout blow? Hold on! Trable's got Pigeon! That's the CD!

Michelle: He can't use that! There's no wrestling in hockey fights!

Styles: Good lord, didn't we just see this lame DQ ending 10 minutes ago?

Michelle: Hey, it's not my fault Pete cheated. Just ask that bitch Kay Fabe.

[The lights go out.]

Noise-Over: RIIIIIIIP.

Styles: Ohh no!

Michelle: Why do hockey fights lead to such violence?

Styles: Maybe because they're fights? The Undietaker is here, and the man from the brown side is looking to attack Pigeon no doubt. Where are you going? Michelle just left and went under the ring. She's got...a hockey stick? Oh no! She gives it to Pigeon, who apparently wasn't too hurt from the CD thanks to all the padding. And Pigeon just slashed Undietaker with the hockey stick. Trable with a CD on Generic Ref! That's payback for the lame DQ ending. Has there ever been a DQ in a hockey fight before? Only in BOB...

[Kay Fabe charges into the ring, followed quickly by Seth Harker.]

Styles: And here we go! Kay going right after Michelle! Harker takes Pigeon down with a kick. And Pigeon and Michelle quickly get out of there. Trable extending a hand to Harker? Apparently, Trable doesn't want to get on the bad side of the iAd. He doesn't know them very well, do he? Harker with a kick to the gut.

[The camera pauses and zooms in and gets blurry as Harker lifts up Trable, and then we suddenly get nine blocks of Harker hitting the Tiger Driver '91.]

Styles: Harker Driver '07! Oh my GOD! And now Harker's heading up top.

[Super slow-mo of Harker doing his twisting moonsault, this time from three different camera angles: the main camera, one from the left looking up, and one from across the ring.]

Styles: DARKNESS FALLS on Trable. Harker back up top!

[Another super slow-mo of Harker doing his twisting moonsault. This time, it goes to widescreen, and a loud heartbeat is overdubbed until he lands perfectly.]

Styles: Darkness Falls on Undietaker as well! That was clearly a message aimed at Pigeon and Michelle. And I don't think we've heard the last of this.

NH: Porcupine penalty to number 57, Pigeon, five minutes for fighting. Flamingo penalty to number 50 Pete Trable, five minutes for fighting, two minutes unsportsmanlike conduct, ten minute major and a game misconduct. Therefore, your winner is Pigeon!

Styles: I guess that slashing to Undietaker didn't count. Well fans, let's send it backstage for...a random interview!

[Mike Monroe was standing near the entryway.]

BigBOSS: Underling, underling, underling. What am I gonna do with you?

MM: Let me go call the show?

BigB: Sorry...somebody beat you to it.

MM: No. What about me?

BigB: In fact, here he is now.

[Pigeon walks up to Mike and starts handing him his sweaty hockey equipment.]

Pigeon: What about you? What about ME? What about Pigeon!

BigB: Good luck, honey.

Pigeon: You talking to me or Michelle?

Michelle: Me, of course.

Pigeon: Good. I've had enough with homosexual wrestling promoters in my existence. Let's go win you the title, my love. As for you, BOSS, don't go starting BB Videos and get caught on "To Catch A Predator" anytime soon, you ruthless commie fuck.

[Pigeon and Michelle head toward the entrance.]

BigB: That boy just doesn't make much sense.

NH: The following match is the Drunk Cat Fight for the T&A XX Division Title!

["My Michelle" by Guns N Roses hits. Michelle comes out, followed by Pigeon, who is still wearing the Porcupines jersey from the last match. They both extend their arms and flap them before walking down the aisle and sliding into the ring with total disinterest. The fans react in kind.]

NH: Introducing first, the challenger, being accompanied to the ring by Pigeon. She is from Cloudydale, Connecticut. This is the head of creative, Michelle!

Styles: Let me get this straight. I'm going to be joined on commentary by Pigeon? A guy who has been attacked by both the Undietaker and Seth Harker, just within the last 10 minutes? Yeah, this is gonna end well for me. But hopefully Pigeon.

["Toxic" by Britney Spears plays.]

NH: And her opponent. The reigning T&A XX Division Champion, this is Queen Mylisiv!

Pigeon: Please, don't stand up for BOB's hardcore legend, Styles.

Styles: Don't you have to be known to be a legend?

Pigeon: I'm a legend in my own mind, Styles.

Styles: What a night for Generic Ref. He's had to referee a violent cage match, a reverse battle royal, had to be a card dealer, referee a hockey fight in which he got CDed by Trable--

Pigeon: Did you ever see "Charles In Charge"? Not with that inferior family with the ugly daughter. The one with the Powells.

Styles: Sure I did.

Pigeon: I was in the store the other day, and they have Season 1 available on DVD. These cocksuckers can't put out Season 2? I was a huge mark for Nicole Eggert back in the day, Styles.

Styles: What about "Baywatch"?

Pigeon: I never got into that show until Carmen Electra came on the scene. As you know, I have a thing for brunettes. But then she got with Rodman and I went flaccid.

Styles: Lovely. Well...

Pigeon: Anyway...this was the most awesome show of my youth, and we can't get it on DVD? But we can waste plastic on "The Simple Life" and "Big Brother" and all these endless reality shows. Speaking of Scott Baio, what's up with his I'm still single and 45 show?

Styles: Never seen it.

Pigeon: Neither have I. But did you know Eric Bischoff and his butt buddy Jason Hervey are the brains behind that show?

Styles: Can't say I did.

Pigeon: It's like six degrees of Kevin Bacon has been replaced with six degress of Eric Bischoff these days.

Styles: I wouldn't go that far.

Pigeon: Try me.

Styles: OK. Michelle.

Pigeon: Michelle watched WWE Raw, where Bischoff was GM for a few years.

Styles: Lame.

Pigeon: Fine. Michelle was married to Trey Vincent, who is from Minneapolis, where Bischoff sold meat out of a truck. That better?

Styles: A little. Still pretty lame. What about, uh...Queen Mylisiv.

Pigeon: Her handler lives in the wastelands of Minnesota.

Styles: What? What are you talking about?

Pigeon: Although we haven't been graced with a rant by CircularAnswer in months. Hell, Zeno beat me at Living In Sin even though I ranted. I've spoken to Michelle about this miscarriage of justice, and all will be made right with the world again soon.

Styles: She's going to give you a title shot?

Pigeon: Of course. You think I'm gonna let her ride this horsecock if she doesn't give me the shot?

Styles: Hold on. I thought Michelle was withholding sex from you to make you do what SHE wants.

Pigeon: Yeah, just keep thinking that. And I'll let her keep thinking that, too, Styles.

Styles: Well, special referee Misty Waters has poured some shots for the girls, and now they've got to down them.

Pigeon: It's coyote ugly night here in BOB. Put the kids to bed and get out the tissues.

Styles: Will you stop?

Pigeon: Beautiful girls plus booze equals money.

Styles: You think Queen Mylisiv is beautiful?

Pigeon: She's like a blue Jennifer Aniston. I'd be her Brad Pitt anytime.

Styles: You mean, you'd bang her until something better comes along?

Pigeon: Of course. Good thing the cops aren't here, or these girls could be arrested for wrestling while intoxicated. Not that I've never been guilty of that before. Hell, I've been up for three straight days, Styles, and I still fought better than Vanilla Trable.

Styles: You won the fight, that's all that matters, I guess. This match looks about ready to start.

Pigeon: Both girls appear to be suffering from drunk-like symptoms. How do you win this one? First one to stain their panties yellow loses? First one to get puke in their hair first loses?

Styles: I think it's by pin. They just have to wrestle drunk.

Pigeon: Well, it's better than blindfolded.

Styles: *Ahem* You do know Death is in a pinata match later, right?

Pigeon: So? I don't fear Death. I fear sobriety. And drug testing programs. I hope BigBOSS never starts that shit or I'm up Orton creek without any charisma.

Styles: Mylisiv charges. Cross body connects. Mylisiv unloading with punches to Michelle.

Pigeon: I hope Michelle doesn't get too bruised up. I know some guys have a battered wife fetish, but not me. But then again, I'm not Irish.

Styles: That's horrible! You're as bad as Scotty Whatbody.

Pigeon: Scotty's my hero. Speaking of "Heroes," season one is out on DVD, so feel free to buy me that for Christmas, or Hannukah, or whatever spending holiday you want to get me a present.

Styles: I'll keep that in mind. Michelle backdropped. And Mylisiv continues the assault.

Pigeon: Michelle's gonna have quite a hangover tomorrow. Michelle's got all the symptoms of a hangover waiting to happen. Headache. Dizziness.


Pigeon: And vomit all over the canvas.

Styles: Anne O'Rexic might be angry for gimmick infringement on that one.

Pigeon: Anne found the cure for morning sickness.

Styles: She did?

Pigeon: Yeah. It's called bulimia.

Styles: Lovely.

Pigeon: It's like pre-emptive morning sickness. I think Dick Cheney came up with the idea originally. Heh, remember the time when Shane Douglas puked in the middle of that match he was having with some other guy with a bird gimmick?


Pigeon: I do. Total Nonstop Vomiting.

Styles: Michelle gets posted! And she's out to the floor now. How is Michelle even going on?

Pigeon: If you grew up in the same house as Sarah Gellar, you'd have a deep well of rage to draw from.

Styles: Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" was the nicest girl I've ever commentated.

Pigeon: Sure, sure. Man, my voice is sore. How do you speak for so long?

Styles: The magic of post-editing.

Pigeon: And my fingers are pretty tired, too.

Styles: Why?

Pigeon: You know why.

Styles: Michelle goes into the Flimsy Guardrail®. How can you stand by and let this happen?

Pigeon: You know, we do get paid to get beaten up. Now, if she was being tattooed and marched into a gas oven, maybe I'd intervene. Did I ever tell you you're one of my favorite announcers of all-time?

Styles: No.

Pigeon: There must be a reason for that. Anyway. C'mon, Michelle. Look at her sell, she's so talented. She has such a nice back, doesn't she?

Styles: I hadn't noticed. She's like a daughter to me. Or at least a niece.

Pigeon: Don't get all high and mighty on me, Styles. At least I don't take the lord's name in vain every time there's a cool highspot.

Styles: I'm not saying anything bad about you! Why are you so angry?

Pigeon: The world needs anger. The world continues to allow evil because it isn't angry enough.

Styles: And you're not evil?

Pigeon: How is one to live a moral and compassionate existence when one is fully aware of the blood, the horror inherent in life, when one finds darkness not only in one's culture but within oneself? If there is a stage at which an individual life becomes truly adult, it must be when one grasps the irony in its unfolding and accepts responsibility for a life lived in the midst of such paradox. One must live in the middle of contradiction, because if all contradiction were eliminated at once life would collapse. There are simply no answers to some of the great pressing questions. You continue to live them out, making your life a worthy expression of leaning into the light.

Styles: ... Chair shot! OH MY GOD!

Pigeon: *Sigh*

Styles: Mylisiv taking this one back to the ring. Michelle--


Styles: Oh NO! She just smashed that vodka bottle over Mylisiv's skull!

Pigeon: Now she's fighting like a drunk. Good on her.

Styles: Misty Waters is about to call for the DQ, but Michelle's telling her not to?

Pigeon: That's right. Kick her in the snatch while you're at it. How's it feel to be another bitch's bitch today, Misty? Getting your orders from a woman with more power than you.

Styles: Michelle with a neckbreaker? Where did she learn a wrestling move?

Pigeon: I showed her a few things. I tried to teach her the bear hug, but she didn't like being poked in the lower abdomen.

Styles: Poked? Oh. Will you stop it with the dick jokes?

Pigeon: I doubt it. I'm a sick fucko. Deal with it.

Styles: Michelle pounding away on Mylisiv. Now what is this, coming up?

Pigeon: Looks like a Med Degree.

Styles: A Med Degree? You taught her that?

Pigeon: SMP better not have. Hey, wasn't that funny how SMP debuted that move in March Mayhem, when it was supposed to be the secret weapon to end the feud with douja?

Styles: I don't know anything about it.

Pigeon: It was all over the dirt sheets. SMP's so senile. He can't even remember not to use his super-secret move. Not that anyone even cares about douja/SMP Episode 2600. Why did he blame the bookers for that?

Styles: Because they booked it?

Pigeon: Yeah, but that assumes that SMP is just a fictional character and is at the whims of some invisible puppet master who pulls all his strings. And that's just silly.

Styles: Will you stop? Kay Fabe is gonna kick your ass.

Pigeon: I need a good ass kicking. I'm fine with it.

Styles: Med Degree by Michelle! Cover! One! Two and...NO! Mylisiv kicks out.

Pigeon: You ever done it with a blue girl before?

Styles: No.

Pigeon: I have. Huge Blue Man Groupie. She even painted her yabbos blue. Those were the biggest blooters I've ever seen man.

Styles: Seriously, don't need to know about your sex life, thanks.

Pigeon: Blue hooters. Get it?

Styles: I didn't, but thanks for clarifying.

Pigeon: My tongue was blue for a week.

Styles: Stop! Michelle pounding away on Mylisiv. And she's doing a lot better than I would have thought, considering her main skill a few years ago was pouting or crying when she was busy getting kidnapped.

Pigeon: Yeah. It's sooo tough to be a teenager these days. I think we should allow people to be able to beat the shit out of poser teenagers with baggy shorts and earrings. That would make me happy, Mikey Styles.

Styles: I'm sure it would. Michelle's biting Mylisiv? But Mylisiv is fighting back now. But Michelle with a drop toe hold. I wonder who taught her that one?

Pigeon: Maybe she learned it through osmosis?

Styles: Maybe.

Pigeon: If only I was booker, I'd book at swimsuit match. It works just like a tuxedo match. You have to strip all the clothes off your opponent. It would be gold. DVD sales would go through the roof. Or at least up to the second floor.

Styles: Well, there are plenty of web sites that offer that. Mylisiv with a kick. Michelle with a slap.

Pigeon: Listen to them grunting with every move. It's almost as good as watching women's tennis. I'm so turned on.

Styles: Michelle grabs Mylisiv by the hair. But Mylisiv grabs Michelle by the, uh...

Pigeon: Now that's crossing the line. I may have to do something about this. I haven't even touched the girls yet.

Styles: Breast toss? And Michelle lands hard.

Pigeon: This is one of the breast battles I've seen all year, Styles.

Styles: Mylisiv with a bulldog. She's got Michelle up. Oh no! Pigeon Drop!

Pigeon: Mylisiv used MY finisher on MY woman? That's so erotic.

Styles: Wait a minute! It's Nikki Mantle and Anne O'Rexic. They're in the ring. Did she just hit Mylisiv with a pregnancy test?

Pigeon: It sure looks like it. That's so unsanitary right there, Styles.

Styles: Mantle is brutalizing Mylisiv in there. Oh no! Here it comes! The Pitch! And Mylisiv bounces off the turnbuckles violently. She could be seriously injured, Pigeon.

Pigeon: Well, this looks like a Sportz Entertainment Finish™, so I guess I'm out of here. And I didn't get attacked. It pays to be going steady with the BOSSes daughter.

Styles: Thanks for joining me, Pigeon. Mylisiv has been brutalized here by O'Rexic's bodyguard thing, Nikki Mantle. And here comes Sir Zeno to Mylisiv's rescue. Pigeon pulls out Michelle. Zeno is standing nose to nose with Nikki Mantle. And O'Rexic...what the hell? She's rubbing her belly? Did she just tell Zeno she loves him? Oh, this is just so wrong on so many levels. I think I'm gonna puke. Fans, let's send it backstage to Mike Monroe, who is standing by with the champ...Death!

[Death and his wife, Katie Death, were making out as we join Mike in the lobby of The Camel's Toe.]

MM: Well, Death...*ahem* Death?

Death: Oh, hey. I just can't keep my hands off this girl. Isn't she hot?

MM: Sure...I guess. So, tonight you've got a pinata match against MC Carjack.

Death: You know...MC Carjack ain't cool like Big Boney. Dr. Death is in the houuuuuuuuse. I'm the Death there is, the Death there was, and the Death there ever will be. And finally, after years of not improving my workrate, I finally rose to the top of BOB. Why? Because I have "it." What is it? I don't know. But I know I have the gold. I got the hot dead chick. And I sure as hell ain't gonna be making my own custom ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.

MM: Well, some people are saying that Carjack might just shock the world and get the fluke pin tonight.

Death: I could beat Carjack blindfolded. I could beat Carjack strait-jacketed. I could beat Carjack while chained up, thrown in a trunk, taken in a boat to the middle of the Pacific Ocean, then dropped in the water, sunk to the bottom of the ocean, then had a giant earthquake open up a giant whirpool, sending me even further to the depths of the earth, and STILL beat MC Carjack.

Death: You see...I am THE ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. You know what that means to me? I was just a nobody, walking around, doing my job like everybody else, and I had a dream. I dreamed of being a stand-up comic. Being something more than just the source of all death in the world. So I joined BOB, thanks to my buddy Trey Vincent. He saw something in me. He saw how tall I am, and thought, hey, this guy's tall. He could be a successful pro wrestler. And boy, was Trey Vincent right. And did I mention Trey Vincent is the coolest wrestler and no doubt that Trey is the toughest son of a gun on the roster? Because he is. And I'm not just saying that because he wrote this promo. No siree.

Death: So, after years of piling up corpses along the way, winning every title that I wanted to win, and piling up a win-loss record that is unmatched by anybody in this entire federation, finally, I cashed in my Six Pack and achieved a dream. Granted, it's not THE ONLY COMIC THAT MATTERS, but this is a dream I didn't even know I wanted to achieve.

Death: This title represents a lot of things to me. Granted, it's a pretty ugly belt, but it's not about what the belt looks like, how big it is, how pretty it is, or how shiny it is. It's what the belt represents to me. I am BOB. And I am Death. Which, I guess, means, BOB is dead?

MM: I hope not. I still need a paycheck.

Death: Well...I'm sure there was a point in there somewhere.

BigBOSS: Excuse me, guys. Sorry to interrupt. Mike, I need you to do something for me.

[Death puts his finger in Katie's mouth.]

MM: What?

BigB: Well...I'm out of color commentators, and I've got to run down the road to meet up with SAPS. Would you be interested in going down and joining Styles to call Death's main event match against MC Carjack?

[Death is is moving his finger back and forth, in and out of Katie's mouth.]

MM: Of course. This is the happiest moment of my night. Thank you, BOSS, I won't let you down.

BigB: Good luck, Death. Thanks, underling. Gotta run.

Death: Wanna bone tonight, rotty?

Katie: Raaaaaaarrrrr.

Death: I love bone head.

[They exit. Monroe runs toward the ballroom.]

[Back to the ballroom, and Monroe is running down the aisle as fast as he can. He joins Styles at ringside.]

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, this is our main event, and it will be a Pinata Match.

Voiceover: Hey Carjack, why don't you put that big ol' 12-inch on my turntable?

["Thumpin' in Da Howse" plays, leading out MC Carjack, the other half of Lay-Z. He doesn't wave his arms in the air like he just don't care, because he's too lazy for shit like that, and he really doesn't care about waving his arms in the air.]

NH: Introducing first, from Lookout, California, this is MC Carjack.

Styles: Good to have you here, Mike.

MM: ....

Styles: Oh, I think your headset is unplugged.

["I Am The Champion" By Death & The Deathtones plays.]

NH: And his opponent, from the Netherworld, he is THE ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, this, is, DEATH!

[Death and Katie walk out to a pretty good pop.]

Styles: It is plugged in? That's strange. I wonder why it's not working. Take them off and shake them or something. That usually works. This should be an interesting match. I don't exactly know what's going to happen. I assume they'll both be blindfolded, given a kendo stick and wackiness will ensue.

[Carjack puts his blindfold over his nose, trying to look all gangsta. Generic Ref slaps him and tells him to put it over his eyes, getting a comedy pop from the crowd. Death puts his blindfold on, while Katie Death looks on listlessly from the floor.]

Styles: All right. Generic Ref gives them their sticks, and this one is ready to start. This should be the most extreme blindfold match ever. Assuming they can find each other. And here we go.

MM: Testing, testing?

Styles: There you go. Now I hear you.

MM: Finally. Hello, everyone. Finally, I get to join you.

Styles: No better time than for the main event.


MC: Yow!











[Carjack rips off his blindfold and leaves the ring.]

MM: What? No.

NH: Here is your winner, DEATH!

MM: That's it?

Styles: I'm afraid so, Mike. Well, for GBH, Dan East, Scotty Whatbody, XamfARRR, Evil Mark Shill, Pigeon, Michelle and anybody else I may have forgotten...

MM: Me?

Styles: Oh, right, sorry, and of course, Mike Monroe, this is Styles saying good night everybody!

[Black screen.]

BOB Ballroom
10:45 p.m.

[Cut to the BOB Ballroom. BigBOSS is sitting on a steel chair in the middle of the ring on one side of a table. Luke Warm and The Domino enter the ring, shake BigBOSSes hand and then take their seats.]

LW: Listen up you sorry son of a bitch. We came in here with the audio.


LW: The video.


LW: And listened to all the claims y'all had about this ballroom and your suite. And we ain't come up with a damn thing. Which means you're cuckoo.

BigB: I'm not cuckoo!

LW: What?

BigB: I'm not! Nobody had any personal experiences?

TD: That suckbag Rob Van Spam thought he had a close encounter, but it only turned out to be your wife entering your hotel room. Candy claimed that she was goosed by a ghost, but she might have just been standing too close to the air conditioner. And we never...and The Domino means never...saw a damn thing all night down here in the Ballroom.

BigB: What about you, Unit 5?

Unit 5: *rumble rumble rumble*

BigB: Nothing? Huh...

LW: Just remember, BigBOSS. Ya get what ya pay for.

[Warm jumps over the table and hits a STONECUTTER on BigBOSS. The Domino makes a fake cheering noise to stroke Warm's fragile ego. Warm then picks up BigBOSSes chair. STONECUTTER. Then he kicks the table and STONECUTTERS the table. Warm then goes to all four corners of the ring and gives a thumbs up to the empty ballroom, smashing and drinking Luke-Hoos as we fade out.]

©2007 BOB Wrestling! Debunk this!


© BOB Wrestling!

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