Brawlers On a Budget > Episodes > 2004 > BOB Is Boobs 3
July’s Most Antic7ipated Event!
[We see a cardboard cutout of an attractive woman resting against a chair. Budget cuts again. A geeky intern sat behind the chair tries to put on his most female sounding voice.]
Geeky Intern: It’s…
[The camera pans the Greenfiners Gardening Center in Hellhole, Idaho. There’s about four fans sat on deck chairs around the ring as shoppers browse through the plants on sale. Our usual line-up of commentators is sat at a picnic table priced $79.99 with their scripts at the ready.]
The Commentator: We are LIVE here in Hellhole, Idaho and we have one helluva spectacular for you this afternoon! This is BOB is Boobs 3 folks! The show that was supposed to air MONTHS ago! Will the third time be a charm? What will our new General Manager and his lackeys have installed for us this afternoon? Will we have to see XXXtreme Machine again?
GBH: Flower pwetty.
TC: And GBH is captivated by a Daffodil, that’s him sorted for the next hour or two then.
Veronica Valley: Don’t be so mean to him!
TC: But that’s my job, that and excellent play-by-play commentary.
VV: I thought I was the play-by-play commentator.
TC: Honey, you’re just here so I don’t have to strap on a pair of plastic boobies to keep our horny male demographic watching.
VV: I think your moustache would give away the fact that you’re a man.
TC: I have a moustache?!
A Flare For the Barbed Wire
[We cut ‘backstage’ where Carlos Limo, BOB is Boobs General Manager, is storming past a patch of petunias in a hurry. A blond haired fellow, about 60 years of age, blocks his path with his mouth poised at the ready to blurt out his catchphrase.]
Nic Flare: Whooooooooooo!
Carlos Limo: Geez, you almost gave me a heart attack, what the hell’s wrong with you?!
CL: Stop that right now.
NF: I noticed you haven’t booked me in a match this week, what’s up with that?
CL: I didn’t book you because you suck, plain and simple.
CL: Shut the hell up and get out of here before I personally kick your ass!
NF: Maybe you’re forgetting, I’m the Nature Dude Nic Flare. Whooo…
CL: Just get out of my way, I have to get to my office… I have a huge main event this afternoon to book.
NF: Just put me in a match against someone, anyone… please, I need the money.
CL: Money?! I ain’t paying you in a million years.
NF: Please, just one little match, I want to impress the head cheeses of BOB here in Hellhole, Idaho!
CL: Believe me, cheap pops won’t work in this gardening center. Ok, ok, if for nothing more than getting you out of my way, you can have a match.
CL: But you have to stop doing that!
NF: Whoo… sorry.
CL: Now go get ready for your match.
NF: But, who’s it against?
CL: Oh, didn’t I mention? It’s going to be a Handicap Barbedwire Pillow Fight against Super Gluey, La Porko and Konun O’Brero! Now get out of my way.
[Limo shoves past the Nature Dude and walks out of view, leaving Flare in a state of shock. Not that anybody cares.]
Dyslexic Avenger vs. Pigeon
TC: Nic Flare is going to be in a handicapped barbedwire pillow fight against Limo’s Lucha Lackeys this afternoon! Anyway, enough of that, The Masked Announcer is in the ring with his Fisher Price microphone at the ready.
MA: The following contest is scheduled for one fall.
[A man in a mask just walks out from a nearby tool shed to no music.]
MA: Introducing first… The Dyslexic Avenger!
TC: The Avenger is as smart as that fox who graduated from Harvard and as tough as a $2 steak, will he be able to pick up a win here this afternoon?
VV: Probably, I know who his opponent is.
TC: You aren’t supposed to read ahead, it spoils the surprise element!
[‘Come Out and Play (Defecating on a Statue Megamix)’ by Offspring and Eddie B. begins to play through the crackling speaker as a guy with ripped jeans and a Send Us Money t-shirt walks out from behind a small pine tree.]
MA: And his opponent, from Parts Unknown… Pigeon!
TC: It’s Pigeon! It’s Pigeon! By gawd!
VV: How can you get excited about a wrestler who eats breadcrumbs off of the floor?
TC: He is a respectable catch-as-catch-can wrestler dammit, he does not eat anything off of the floor!
VV: Does too! I saw him do it before the show, watch.
[Veronica throws a handful of breadcrumbs, which she happened to have for some reason, and Pigeon proceeds to peck at them.]
TC: Well there’s something you don’t see every day.
DAT: Hell doing are the what you?!
ADT: Whooping time it’s ass for an!
TC: The Dyslexic Avenger just flew over those ropes and hit Pigeon with one hellacious plancha from hell! Pigeon is down and looks hurt as Avenger stomps a mudhole in him right here in front of us, you can practically reach out and touch them!
VV: Like I’d want to do something gross like that, it doesn’t seem like any of these guys even shower.
TC: BigBOSS cut showers out of the budget a while back, cut the dental plan too and introduced the whole ‘feeding the wrestlers with rat meat’ thing.
GBH: Mmmmm, hotdog tasty.
TC: And as GBH picks a tail from his teeth The Dyslexic Avenger tries to knock Pigeon’s right out with one hellacious kick to the face. He rolls him into the ring and quickly follows, beginning an onslaught of stomping. Pigeon is getting whupped like a government mule!
DTA: You teach with me I’ll mess to!
VV: That Dyslexic guy goes for that DDT thing but Pigeon blocks with his leg. That guy hits him with his fist and goes for the move again, nope, he still can’t do it.
TC: An arduous struggle for power between two gladiators for the ages, truly an epic battle.
VV: Pigeon pokes the dyslexic guy in the eyes!
TC: ALL HELL had broken loose!
VV: Pigeon climbs out of the ring as The Avenger holds his eyes in pain.
TC: He has a deck chair, by gawd he has a deck chair! He rolls back in and tries to set his weapon of choice up in the ring… but he can’t!
VV: Those things are a bitch.
Pigeon: Yo, Ref, help me set this chair up.
TC: The referee tries to help Pigeon set the furniture up the middle of the ring, whilst unbeknownst to them The Dyslexic Avenger gets back up. He steps forward, pulls his leg back and kicks Pigeon’s ass, quite literally. And then he hits him with the deck chair! One, two, kickout.
VV: That dyslexic guy puts Pigeon in a… ahh… ummm, let me check.
TC: Put that book of wrestling moves down, you airhead, it’s a dragon sleeper.
VV: Right, right, a dragon sleeper. Will Pigeon tap out?
TC: Maybe not, he’s climbing up onto his feet… but he is still in the hold. He waves his arms around to try and break free but Dyslexic Avenger HITS HIM WITH THE DYSLEXIC DROP!!! One, two, three. This one is over.
VV: A very short and uninteresting contest to open the show, who would’ve thought?
TC: Sarcasm is one of your shining qualities. Not why you were hired though, so keep quiet.
VV: Why are you always so mean to me?
TC: I’m a badass heel, I have to insult someone a few times a show to make sure I don’t lose any heat. Anyway, it’s time to shill other Brawlers on a Budget programming.
Chloroform your TV
[The scene opens to an extremely untidy apartment. There are empty packets, empty bottles and tons of crumbs everywhere. In the midst of the mess? An extremely overweight guy sat on a La-Z-Boy recliner stuffing his face with what appears to be a whole pig as he watches his stories on the TV.]
Off-Screen Voice: Hey you!
[A pimply faced intern crouched behind a cardboard cut-out of Trey Vincent slides into view with a nervous tone to his voice as he is forced to spurt more insults.]
Intern: Yeah you fatso!
[The fat guy scowls and pushes the off button on his TV remote.]
Intern: Hey tubby, what do you think you’re doing?
[Trey’s cardboard arm, which is on a pivot, is moved up to point at the television screen.]
Intern: Don’t turn your TV off blubber boy.
[The cardboard cut-out ploughs through the junk on the floor up to the television screen. The intern douses a rag in liquid from a bottle, he then proceeds to wipe the rag across the screen of the television.]
Intern: That’s right lard ass, now you too can Chloroform your TV!
[The fat guy stands up, with some difficulty, from his chair and begins waddling towards the intern.]
Intern: Just tune in to Comedy Central on a Sunday Morning and you might just catch Brawlers on a Budget’s premier viewing experience Sunday Morning Chloroform.]
[The fat guy knocks the Trey cut-out to one side, steam almost pouring from his ears after that lard ass comment.]
Intern: Chloroform your TV! Only on Comedy Central!
[The fat guy sits on him and we fade out from the muffled screams of one of BOB’s many dispensable interns.]
Rob Van Spam & Alan Qaida vs. Chris Candildo & Lance Lancelot
MA: The following tag team thing is for one fall.
[‘Pork’ by Puntera plays as Rob Van Spam and Alan Qaida walk out to the ring, that’s all the description you’re getting, I want to get this over with.]
MA: Introducing first, from Battle Creek, New Jersey. Rob Van Spam and Alan Qaida!
TC: Oh dear, Van Spam has somehow managed to get a mic in his hand.
RVS: Heyyy Pottsie.
TC: This teams manager, Bill Pottonzo… isn’t here. Where is he?
VV: Like, who cares?
RVS: Lots of RVS 4:30 t-shirts in the audience tonight.
RVS: Now now Al, you know as well as these fans that I’m Rob Van Spam, the whole frickin show, and reigning TV champion.
VV: We have a TV championship now?!
TC: No… it’s his own belt, that’s why it’s made out of paper and stuck on bits of dried macaroni.
VV: That’s the same as BOB’s real belts.
[Alan Qaida quickly tires of Rob’s mic time and starts pushing chairs, table, ladders and explosives into the ring.]
RVS: We have a tag match here tonight, and at first I was upset. BOB is Boobs is a jobber filled B-show… not something for Mr. Sunday Morning to be appearing on. But then I realised, I’m not a jobber. I’m the whole fudging show. If I appear on this show it wouldn’t be a jobber show anymore.
VV: I wouldn’t count on that one.
RVS: So I guess it’s ok. Besides, you picked up that great sunflower didn’t you Al?
RVS: That should go great in my back yard, right next to my other plants.
[‘Into The Void’ by Nine Inch Nails plays as Chris Candildo and Lance Lancelot walk out from behind a conifer. They climb into the ring and do some generic taunting.]
MA: And their opponents, the team of Lance Lancelot and ‘Mr. No Fingers Needed’ Chris Candildo.
TC: Lance and Chris have a challenge in front of them this afternoon, but they tackle it head on as they dive at Rob and begin beating him into the mat with a handful of vicious punches.
GBH: Punchy punchy punchy.
VV: Who are these guys?
TC: One of the top tag teams in the world today… to appear on BOB is Boobs. They may lack credibility and skill, but they are sure as hellfire and keystone beating one helluva mudhole in Rob Van Spam.
VV: Well what the hell is Alan Qaida doing while this is going on?
TC: He has a steel chair, I guess he’s planning his attack. He climbs onto the apron, jumps up onto the top rope with the chair still in hand and hitting one hellacious dropkick-with-the-chair type spot. All four men are DEAD!
VV: Don’t go overboard, you’re starting to sound like that other guy.
TC: Scotty Whatbody?
VV: Is he the guy who screams a lot and oversells everything?
TC: Probably, I can’t really remember my days before this show… just a blur to me now.
GBH: Stompy stompy stompy.
TC: Rob Van Spam is stomping the hell out of Lancelot, Candildo and even Qaida his own team partner! He sets up one of those flimsy E-Z-Break tables in the middle of the ring. He rolls Lancelot onto it, climbs up top and hits one hell of a leg drop putting Lance straight through the wood.
VV: All hell has broken loose!
TC: Don’t I say that usually?
VV: I thought it’d be cuter if I said it.
TC: Not a chance, let me demonstrate. All HELL has broken loose! By gawd it’s one hell of a slobberknocker! Lance is getting whupped like a government mule!
VV: Are you ok? Your face just turned purple.
TC: I’ll be… fine. I just need some water.
VV: Van Spam goes up top.
TC: Oh please no.
VV: And does a split-legged moonsault… hey I got it right. Oh dear, Rob looks hurt.
TC: He is, of course, not capable of doing that move and has torn a load of muscles in his legs and groin.
TC: That’s the risk these Brawlers on a Budget take each and every week. Al Qaida tries to take control, going for Candildo with a chair, but he just gets it punched into his face.
TC: It looks to me as if his jaw is broken, good grief.
GBH: Supamakick thingy.
TC: Lance Lancelot levels Alan out of nowhere with one helluva superkick!
VV: God, that guys chin is just hanging off his face.
TC: Candildo begins beating the living daylights out of Al with a blueberry waffle as Lance tries to hold Van Spam back.
GBH: Mmmmmmmm… waffle.
TC: Van Spam out of nowhere knocks both of his opponents down with spinning kicks. He goes to help Qaida, he’s strapping his jaw back together with some rope. That’s just ridiculous.
VV: This whole match is ridiculous, those guys already have another table set up.
TC: This doesn’t look good for Lancelot and Candildo, who are lying on that table just waiting. Double Leg Drop through the table!! But Lance and Chris rolled out of the way at the very last second, and get to work on their fallen opponents in their weaker state… could they turn the tides enough to come out victorious?
GBH: Yur. Stompy stompy stompy.
VV: That Chris guy throws that Rob guy out through the ropes, then he does it again only to that other guy instead.
TC: ‘Mr. No Fingers Needed’ Chris Candildo is cleaning house!
[Chris looks over to Veronica Valley, flexing his muscles and sporting a wink above a cheesy grin.]
TC: Good gawd Vivian, I think he likes you.
VV: Psssh, like I care. And it’s Veronica.
TC: Whatever Vicky, the point is that Chris is a bonafide stud with those muscles and those deep blue eyes.
VV: One, are you gay? Two, he works for Brawlers on a Budget, have you seen the car he drives? And three, it’s Veronica!
GB: Vurrrr… oni… ca and Chrrrrr… ris sitting in a… tree. K… I… ummm…… S… S…….. ummm.
TC: Good gawd Van Spam just knocked Candildo out cold with a lethal trash can lid shot! It seems your incessant flirting could cost Mr. No Fingers Needed the match.
TC: Lancelot goes for Van Spam, but Alan Qaida comes from behind and hits him with a half empty carton of milk! Oh the humanity, will that dastardly Al Qaida ever stop?
VV: Gross, that Spam guy is re-taping that guys jaw back together.
TC: It looks like yet another BOB show is going to end with an ambulance ride… and Alan is making sure of that as he and Van Spam begin setting up a couple of tables on the outside. Good gawd this is hellacious.
VV: Rob goes back in and throws both opponents out through the ropes onto tables.
TC: He grabs a couple of chairs wrapped in barbed and sets them alight! Hellacious! Al has one now following Rob up top after dropping a few explosives onto the opponents.
VV: They’re going to kill themselves!
TC: Alan Qaida is one of the most homicidal, genocidal, suicidal and regicidal terrorists in BOB today. And Van Spam has a pork based gimmick, so has no reason to live. They both flip forward with the chairs and crash through those poor souls bodies and leave nothing but burning splinters. Total destruction!
VV: It looks a bomb hit.
TC: No thanks to that dastardly Al Qaida. And the Ref is counting them out, at quite a quick pace. 8, 7, 9, 10!
MA: This match has been declared a draw after a double count-out.
VV: What a crap ending.
TC: There are four corpses around the ring, they gave their lives for this match dammit!
RVS: Heyyyy, I’m not dead.
TC: Shut up you. Anyway, I’m now being told something is happening backstage. Let’s go check it out!
RVS: Hey, you think you could call an ambulance dude?
[A billow of smoke spirals up from BOB is Boobs General Manager Carlos Limo’s nostrils as he enjoys a fine cigar. He is sat with his feet up on his desk, a cardboard box with his name written across the front, and a broad smile just below his moustache.]
CL: Life is good.
Off-Screen Voice: 0h i5 i7?!1
[XXXtreme Machine stomps into view, he is halfway through a turkey sandwich and spits out most of it as he speaks.]
CL: What do joo want?
XTM: fin4llie…. teH XxXtR3mE maCheeN ha5 c0|\/|e B4KC 2 |-|3Llh0lE, 1daH0~!1
CL: You are an incomprehensible buffoon.
XTM: aye eM n0t a MoNk3y., i em xXx7EAM maChiin3~!#
CL: Just… what do you want?
XTM: |)onT fink tgat u cen jsu geT aw4y wiv teh wei j00 hav bean tr3etin xXXtR3mAe m4Chin,e!"1 ur lak13Z intUr`fure un mt m4cHess!1" u havnut g1veN teh XXxtR3mIe mAhcinue N.E. t17lE m4tc|-|uz¬1`
CL: Titles matches?
CL: But you’re just a jobber, you can’t have title matches!
XTM: eIY uM n07 e j0B8Aah!!12
CL: Yes you are, you always have been. You probably fell underneath a teddy bear as a baby and let it get the three count.
XTM: h3Y htat tedDy wuz fYckeN tuff suN ov teh b1thC!!!,.!`1
CL: Look, joo walk into my office, joo spit joo damn sandwich all over the place and demand title shots. I call the shots around these parts, and I say joo are going to have a match this afternoon against two opponents.
XTM: ah h4Ndykapp ma7hct/?!`1?!1
CL: Against… Super Molusc and Bivalve!
CL: What do joo say to that, tough guy?
XTM: u R eh r374Rd`
CL: Hahahahaha! This will teach joo to ruin my show.
TC: XXXtreme Machine facing Super Molusc AND Bivalve? Former stable mates duelling it out? This afternoon? What does this mean?! Find out… after this.
[We open to the site of a ping-pong table covered in dust, a single light swings above it. A man with fuzzy hair and a gray beard moves towards it and roars before smashing it in half with his own head (it must have been made of balsa). The man looks at the screen and growls for a while before he smashes it with a table tennis racquet.]
Voice-Over: He’s coming…
BARBED WIRE PILLOW FIGHT
Nic Flare vs. Konun O'Brero, La Porko & Super Gluey
VV: Geez will this guy ever debut? He’s been ‘coming’ for like two months already.
TC: He must be exhausted. We have a huge main event for you this afternoon, pitting teammates of the past against each other in a handicap match. Of course, we have another match before that and probably a few commercials.
GBH: Hehehe… urrrr… yaaay.
MA: The following contest is scheduled for one squashing and is a Barbedwire Pillow Fight.
[‘Do The Evolution’ by Pearl Jam begins to play and the short geriatric known as Nic Flare walks out in a twinkling blue robe. He gets little reaction from the limited crowd, as most of them can’t see him underneath his ridiculously bright toupee.]
VV: This guy is way too old to be doing this wrestling stuff, what is he 100?
TC: I don’t think you’re far off, he truly is a veteran of the game.
[‘Little Spanish Flea’ begins to play over the speaker as three looming figures walk out of a tool shed armed to the teeth with pillows wrapped in barbedwire.]
NF: Whooooooooooooo, where’s my pillow?
Konun O’Brero: Viva la raza, joo do not get one. Orale homies.
NF: Well that’s hardly fair.
Konun: That’s the point.
NF: Oh really?
Super Gluey: Oui.
Konun: You moron, you’re supposed to speak Mexican.
Gluey: That WAS Mexican, it means yes.
Konun: No, ‘si’ means yes in Mexican.
Gluey: Well what does oui mean then?
Konun: It means yes.
Gluey: But you just said…
NF: Look, are we going to have this match or what? I’ve been stylin, profilin and eating my vitamins and I didn’t buy my ticket just to hear you guys ramble incoherently.
TC: Nic Flare just got knocked out with those barbedwire pillows! He’s juicing! He’s wearing the crimson mask! The ketchup is flowing!
Konun: Oui mean yes in French.
Gluey: French? What the fuck is that?
TC: La Porko covers Nic, one, two, three. This match is over.
VV: That was more confusing than usual.
TC: Brawlers on a Budget continues to set the standard of leaving the most viewers utterly baffled. And now it seems it is time for our main event this afternoon, or at least right after a word from one of our sponsors.
[We open to the sight of a sweaty fat guy walking along. A gentle ringing can be heard in the distance. It grows in volume as it draws closer and a swarm of kids run in its direction. That always welcomed sound of the ice cream man driving nearby forces the fat guy’s brain to send signals to his legs to run at top speed, pushing kids and kicking dogs out of the way. He jumps to the front of the queue and pulls all of the change he has in his pockets out.]
Fat Guy: What can I get for this much?
Ice Cream Man: Not much.
Fat Guy: Please, I’m sweating like a pig here. Just give me something cold.
Ice Cream Man: Well, I have one thing you can afford.
[The Ice Cream Man pulls out a cone covered in something cold and brown.]
Fat Guy: Whew, what is that? It stinks.
Ice Cream Man: This? Why this is a Poopsicle! They’re brand new.
Fat Guy: Poopsicle?
Ice Cream Man: It’s brown, it smells and it’s ice cold!
[The fat guy vomits before running away. The Ice Cream Man then looks directly at the camera.]
Ice Cream Man: Poopsicles: They taste like crap!
Super Mollusc & Bivalve vs. XXXtreme Machine
TC Ok, before our main event begins we have a video clip of what happened last time on BOB is Boobs to refresh your memory and pad this thing out a little more.
[‘Misirlou’ plays and the General Manager of BOB is Boobs, Carlos Limo, struts out with a baseball bat. He walks down to the ring.]
TC: Limo pulls his tag team apart before rolling into the ring. Baseball bat to Bivalve! Baseball bat to Super Mollusc! La Porko and Super Gluey follow in and prepare to make the cover. Nothing can go wrong now, they have the match won.
[‘XXXtreme.’ No F’n pop.]
VV: Oh shit.
TC: XXXtreme Machine is on his way to the ring and he has a steel chair! Chairshot to La Porko! Chairshot to Super Gluey! Chairshot to Carlos Limo!
[Realizing that the fans are never going to react to anything, some stock audio of thousands of fans cheering plays over the speaker.]
TC: The fans are going wild! Super Mollusc and Bivalve are up on their feet, staring at XXXtreme Machine in disbelief. XXXtreme Machine begins staring at them… he reaches out his hand to be shaken. Goodness gracious me, could we have a Jobbers Inc. reunion on our hands here?
[After Bivalve and Mollusc reach out to shake his hand XXXtreme Machine clotheslines them both. He then sets them up on the top rope and hits a double XXXtreme Stunner. Thousands of fans booing the house down plays over the speaker.]
TC: I guess not, XXXtreme Machine drags his former stablemates’ bodies over La Porko and Super Gluey. One, two, three. What a screwjob!
MA: The following handicap contest is our main event this afternoon and is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, already in the ring, from Parts Unknown… Super Mollusc and Bivalve!
TC: Through Hellfire and Keystone, Super Mollusc and Bivalve have got revenge on their minds this afternoon as they try to pay back XXXtreme Machine for that ridiculous swerve last time on BOB is Boobs.
VV: I can’t believe we have to see XXXtreme Machine again, can’t someone injure him or something so he goes away?
[‘XXXtreme.’ No F’n pop.]
MA: And their opponent, from North Dakota… XXXtreme Machine.
[Machine beats his chest violently whilst screaming loudly.]
XTM: sPeik 2 m3 w4aA4Rrriii1i0000000o0000000000ORzz~!!!!!111#
TC: Super Mollusc and Bivalve fly over the ropes and hit Machine with stereo tope con giros.
VV: Couldn’t they have done that before he spoke?
TC: Triple XXXtreme is proving why he’s tougher than a $2 steak here. He’s up before his opponents and tosses them back into the ring. As he follows he drops an elbow drop soon after and make the cover. Bivalve is in trouble, one, two, Super Mollusc breaks it up just in time.
VV: That XXXtreme retard looks pissed at that mollusc guy.
TC: Indeed, Super Mollusc is in trouble. He goes for a punch but Big SeXXXy just no-sells it completely. Mollusc gets scooped and slammed with one hellacious barn burning body slam. One, two, kickout. I thought that was it.
VV: That other guy, the bisexual one, tries to hit Machine with his fist but gets poked in the eyes.
TC: It’s Bivalve not bisexual!
VV: What the hell is a Bivalve?
TC: A bivalve is a mollusc having a shell consisting of two lateral plates or valves joined together by an elastic ligament at the hinge, which is usually strengthened by prominences called teeth. The shell is closed by the contraction of two transverse muscles attached to the inner surfa…
VV: Stop it! You’re scaring GBH.
TC: I am not, a little biology never hurt anyone… except maybe that wrestler in the science lab deathmatch a few years back. Now, where was I?
VV: You were supposed to be talking about the stuff that’s going on in the ring.
TC: XXXtreme Machine chokeslamming both of his opponents?
TC: And then powerbombing them both through tables?
TC: Ok. Well, XXXtreme Machine did do all of those things just now and his opponents, Super Mollusc and Bivalve, are officially and legitimately DEAD!!!
VV: They are not dead.
TC: Are you questioning me?
VV: They’re moving, look!
GBH: Yay, Mr. Bi… errr… valve and Super Mullet are alive.
TC: They probably wish they were dead though as XXXtreme Machine goes up top with a chair tied to his own torso. Plancha!
VV: All he did was jump on them.
TC: Yes, that’s a plancha. And now he’s laying in the punches, beating these two like a herd of government mules.
XTM: i7;s tieM 2 gte xetr3NE#!!!!11!`
VV: Where do all these tables come from?
TC: I don’t know but XXXtreme Machine has sure as heckfire set one up. He grabs both of his opponents around the throat, he’s going to chokeslam them BOTH through that table!
Voice-Over: Ivavay Alay Azaray!
TC: It’s Igpay! It’s Igpay! He charges down the ramp, around the ring and hits a huge clothesline knocking the wind out of Big SeXXXy. And now he’s stomping the bejesus out of him!
VV: That’s a disqualification, right?
TC: You’ve been doing your homework, you’d better tell the ref.
VV: Hey, like, you ref guy.
VV: Dude, that’s a disqualification.
GR: It is?
TC: The referee calls for the bell and we have been screwed out of a real finish yet again. Nobody seems to care though as Igpay, Bivalve and Super Mollusc all roll Triple XXXtreme back into the ring and begin another barrage of stomps.
VV: Another show’s going to end with a mass stomping?
TC: It seems quite likely as Bob is Boobs General Manager Carlos Limo’s Lucha Lackeys run out from behind a rake display and join in with the stomping.
VV: It’s going to be like this every week isn’t it? Geez.
TC: The Dyslexic Avenger is here! And DMD! And look, there’s Tyke Drudley! They all get in the ring and start stomping away.
VV: Stupid, just stupid.
TC: Chris Candildo, Tazzz, Hooker T all come out to join in with the stomping of XXXtreme Machine. All hell has broken loose!
Voice-Over: Weeeeeell, well it’s the Wig Show!
VV: Not this guy again.
TC: Good gawd almighty, through hellfire and keystone it’s the Wig Show! That 800 lbs giant is stomping down to the ring with a vengeful blonde wig atop his head.
TC: Chokeslam to Candildo! Chokeslam to Bivalve! Chokeslam to The Dyslexic Avenger! Tyke Drudley tries to hit a surprise hurracanrana but gets powerbombed right out of the ring. Chokeslam to DMD!
VV: I’m pretty sure this guy quit months ago.
TC: Chokeslam to Igpay Atinolay Eathay! Chokeslam to Tazzz! Chokeslam to Super Mollusc!
Konun: Come on guys, we can take this moron out.
Super Gluey: Right.
TC: Chokeslam to Super Gluey! Chokeslam to Konun O’Brero! Chokeslam to La Porko! Wig Show has literally cleaned house as these scoundrels run away like a pack of scolded dogs!
VV: He has literally cleaned house?!
TC: Please, you’re the last person I need correcting my English. I’d rather GBH be correcting me before you.
TC: XXXtreme Machine is up and stares at the man that just saved his ass. Are we seeing a new force being forged here on BOB is Boobs? Chokeslam to XXXtreme Machine!
VV: What’s the point of this?
TC: Wig Show roars out before climbing out of the ring. He walks over to this announce desk and grabs me round the throat. Chokeslam to The Commentator!
WS: Wig Show’s back!
VV: You can’t just Chokeslam The Commentator like that! Who the hell do you think you are?
WS: Weeeeeeeeeeeell it’s the Wig Show!
VV: Go away. Well, I guess I’ll have to do this bit. I’ll just read Commentator’s lines. That dastardly Wig Show has cleaned house by gawd and has left me incapacitated.
VV: Wait, if they knew he was going to get hurt why did they still give him the closing lines of the show?
TC: I need an ambulance.
VV: Whatever, this utter carnage brings BOB is Boobs to a close. I have been The Commentator along with Veronica Valley and GBH, good afternoon.
TC: Uhhhhhh, ouch.
© 2004 BOB Wrestling. i7 r0X0r j00~!!!1