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Bearly Legal

[Fade in on a darkened ballroom with some cheesy strobe effects. The BOB galaxians are chanting B-O-B! B-O-B!]

Kid PirateVicky Jean

Kid Pirate: (Barely audible) Dead men tell nay tales….yarrrrr!


Kid Pirate: (Barely audible) Dead men tell nay tales….yarrrrr!


[Kid Pirate is mid-ring, with a microphone in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other. Referee Vicky Jean stands behind him in the corner to the camera's left.]

KP: Hello sea dogs an' land lubbers an' welcome t' Brawlers On a Budget On-Demand. Welcome t' Bearly Legal: Dead Man's Finger! I be Kid Pirate, yer Actin' BigBOSS, comin' t' ye live from th' BOB Ballroom in a city that only looks good at night, Sin City. An' tonight ye're goin' t' be seein'…

The GreatPete "XFactor" TrableAngelina X

[Without music, The Great and "XFactor" Pete Trable (with Cyborg Angelina X) walk the plank and get into to the ring. Kid Pirate seems a bit confused by this development.]

KP: Dr. Silaconne M. Plants defend his ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS against American Panda. Sam, Sam th' Dancin' Yam challenge me fer me Swiss ARRRRMy Belt. Kobe Gyant vs. Axl in a number one contenders match…

Galaxians: Can we fuck Angelina? *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* Can we fuck Angelina? *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* Can we fuck Angelina? *Clap, clap, clapclapclap*

PT: Even though she ain't human, she still got taste
She knows that all of y'all smell worse than toxic waste!

[The galaxians boo. Pete smiles.]

PT: I can understand why you all so blue
Even cyborg chicks just aren't that into you!

KP: Why be ye interruptin' me intro, Trable? Ye be havin' nay right!

PT: Yo, Kid Pirate, I gots something to say!
You lookin' at the best tag team in BOB today!
It ain't just a coincidence, don't hate!
It's The XFactor Pete Trable and The Great!
There's a lotta noise that we didn't earn these straps
But we gonna make every other team collapse
Just like the economy


KP: What?

PT: Couldn't think of anything that rhymed with economy…anyway...
Let's get on with the show
Against our opponents who blow
Get our opponents out here!
It's time to end they career

The WizardThomas Largeman

["Magic Man" by Heart hits. The duo of Wizard and Thomas Largeman appear in a cloud of smoke. As usual, probably as a result of doobies, rather than a special effect by The Flunky. Wizard and Largeman walk the plank and get into the ring.]

PT: Yo, homey, we about to show you a magic trick
So drop the sails, let's get to this quick
You gonna love this, yo it's sick
And I got a hurry…some ring rat's waitin' backstage to suck my

[Mic in the air.]

Galaxians: Dick!

[The black pirate ship sails drop and hide Largeman and Wizard from camera sight. Cue the smoke and more cheap-ass lightning flashes. Some eerie nondescript magic music plays in the background.]

PT: Yo, I'm a rapper of ancient lore
I petition this pirate ship, and many $5 whores
And please visit our Web site
And click on an ad if you might
Chair and ladder, table and glass
Largeman and Wizard can kiss my ass
I call you forth, Flunky, Flunky I intone
Thrice the special effects you've already blown
This is really lame, all this sorcery
Great, can you finish? I need to pee

[Trable hands The Great the microphone and leaves ringside. The Great reads from some index cards, looking a bit confused by Trable's behavior.]

The Great: The end of this title defense is very near
Cuz tonight we make both our opponents disappear!
The only date Largeman can get is with sheep
And Wizard's so old, he older than Meryl Streep!
Spots, reversals, and a pin
Pete and The Great gonna win
No sense having a real match since nobody Ranted
Please, Flunky, let this incantation be granted…fo' real
Hear my words from mast to poop deck
Hey, Kid Pirate, where the hell is my paycheck?
By the law of one, two, three
So mote it be
Word life
Barney Fife
The Great just had sex with his wife
Before our trip
And I taped it
It's on the Internet?

[The sails magically open…slowly…The ring is empty! Or, not. Well, aside from those two people in the ring it's totally empty. The lights slowly return to normal. However, the two figures in the ring aren't Wizard and Largeman. It's…Pete Trable and Vicky Jean?]

PT: Yo! I guess this match is a win for us
Due to BOB silliness
Hey, Vicky, since we got a few minutes, wanna play with my penis?
I'm like David, I need to "cop a feel"
Girl, you make me harder than steel!
You'd look so good wearin' nothin' but high heels
And hey, Great, I was just playin' about the Internet sex tape
Don't get all bent outta shape
Just throw ya title in the air
And wave it like the bookers don't care!
Throw ya title in the air!
And wave it like the bookers don't care!

["X Gonna Give it to Ya" by DMX hits. Pete, The Great and Angelina "celebrate" their "victory" by waving their titles. Cut to ringside and your hosts for the evening, Mikey Styles, Scotty Whatbody and Sarah Whatbody.]

StylesScotty WhatbodySarah "The Jobber Slayer"

Styles: Somebody better call England and tell them that Wizard and Largeman aren't coming home. Ever. Hello everyone, I'm Mikey Styles, and welcome to Bearly Legal. As always, I'm joined by Scotty Whatbody, and his, wife, Sarah.

[Scotty wraps an arm around Sarah.]

SW: That's right, she's mine!

Sarah: Remove the arm, or I'll remove it for you. Then beat you to death with it.

[Scotty does so.]

Styles: Did I hear correctly? Axl vs. Kobe is now a number one contender match for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS?

SW: I guess so. Damnit, Kobe better not blow it. And I mean the match, not Axl's dick.

Sarah: So the winner of American Panda vs. SMP faces the winner of Kobe vs. Axl? Sweet.

Styles: Speaking of the OWCTM…

Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

[Dr. Silaconne M. Plants' room. A man is making some last minute adjustments to SMP's Kevlar turtleneck.]

Guy: How's that?

SMP: Seems good. You're sure this is bearproof?

Guy: I sure am. I tossed my son in a bear cage the other night. No neck trauma. Though he lost a testicle.

SMP: If he looks anything like you, that's a good thing.

[Knock on the door. A deliveryman enters with a bouquet of balloons.]

Deliveryman: Dr. Plants?

SMP: What?

Deliveryman: Delivery.

SMP: *Sigh* Who sent these?

Deliveryman: Um, secret admirer, according to the card.

[SMP looks over the silver balloons.]

SMP: J, P, M, S, L, and a heart? What is this? Balloon word scramble?

Deliveryman: I'm just the deliverer.

[He waits.]

SMP: And you're waiting for?

Deliveryman: A tip?

SMP: If you want a tip, go to a circumcision. Beat it!

[SMP shoves Deliveryman out and slams the door. SMP arranges the letters.]

Guy: (Pointing at the balloons) S-M-P. I bet whoever sent you the balloons has the initials LJ! And the heart means love.

SMP: It better not be that Guy Who Slightly Resembles LBJ. I always had my suspicions about him.

Guy: There's no B balloon.

SMP: That delivery guy could've popped it...wait, wait, wait. I know who it is.

Guy: You do?

SMP: I do. Be gone when I get back.

[Back to the Ballroom. The camera shows the plexiglass which has been rigged around the edge of the pirate ship.]

Styles: Well fans, it is now time for the Plexiglass Elimination Chamber. Now, if you saw the first Plexiglass Elimination Chamber at Explosion of Injuries, you know that the first chamber was made from a hockey rink. Due to space limitations in the BOB Ballroom, The Flunky had to set up some glass around the pirate vessel. Instead of waiting in penalty boxes or on benches tonight, I understand everyone will be waiting in Kid Pirate's quarters.

KP: Aye, Th' Flunky will pay wi' his scrotum fer this one! He'll be wearin' glass testicles 'ere his real ones used t' be!

SW: Welcome to the broadcast position, KP.

KP: I need t' be gettin' ready fer me match against Sam, Sam th' Dancin' Yam! Now thar's gonna be poo all o'er me quarters! Does ere be havin' a high-pressure washer I can borrow?

Sarah: Where's Pretty Boy?

KP: She's gonna be guardin' all them hardcore swashbucklers. If they give th' lass' any beak, she'll peck ou' thar one good eye an' spit them down the'r necks! After clawin' a giant vagina in the'r neck.

Sarah: Of course.

SW: You mean, Jerri or Hamster Girl could have TWO vaginas? That's so hot.

KP: That could be a porno name. "Th' Girl Wi' Two Snatches." Th' first-ere DVDADN DVD.


Sarah: What is DVDADN?

SW: Poor Sarah. So innocent. And you were with Trey for how long?

Sarah: What?

Styles: Let's just get to the match already.

You Gotta Be Kidding I Ain't Doing That, Are You Out of Your Frickin' Mind Hardcore Title BeltChristian St. ChristianScatmanHamster GirlTia TarrJerri Li

NH: The fllwing cntest is set fr five plexiglass breakings, and is fr The Yu Gtta Be Kidding I Ain't Ding That, Are Yu ut f Yur Frickin' Mind T&A Hardcre XX Divisin Champinship!

SW: Sounds like Heidi's having a little keyboard trouble.

Sarah: Did you say microphone or keyboard?

SW: You heard me.

["Hear Nothing See Nothing Say Nothing" by Discharge plays. Vicky Jean carries the hardcore title to the ring.]

NH: Intrducing first, the reigning and defending The Yu Gtta Be Kidding I Ain't Ding That, Are Yu ut f Yur Frickin' Mind T&A Hardcre XX Divisin Champin, The Yu Gtta Be Kidding I Ain't Ding That, Are Yu ut f Yur Frickin' Mind T&A Hardcre XX Divisin Title Belt!

[Vicky bypasses the ring and walks over to the Captain's Cabin and tosses the title inside. Then she heads to the ring to referee the match.]

Pretty Boy

Pretty Boy: RARK! No funny business, capiche?

Sarah: Pretty Boy's laying down the macaw law.

[“Pokemolesting Dead Hamsters” by Execution plays next.]

KP: I almost chose this as me theme song.

SW: Oh man, I remember the summer this song came out on the radio.

Sarah: In hell?

NH: Intrducing next, frm Parts Unknwn. He weighs 222 pounds. Christian St. Christian!

KP: Flunky, fix th' lass' damn microphone or I'll gut ye like a fish an' toss ye in th' nearest ocean!

Sarah: We're in Nevada. It's a desert, dude.

KP: Then a bathtub! Maybe one o' them abroadside tubs them old farts be always sittin' in in them Cialis ads.

[Christian St. Christian is locked into the Captain's Cabin by Pretty Boy. “Enema Bulldozer” by Cock And Ball Torture plays next.]

Sarah: Hey, this was the runner up as my theme song. What a coincidence.

NH: Intrducing the next challenger. He is frm Chclate Bayu, Texas, and weighs 180 punds, Scatman!

KP: What can ye say about a man who be covered in poo that th' poo dasn't already say about th' man covered in th' poo?

SW: You just blew me fucking mind, Kid.

Sarah: Oh, brother. Quit sucking up to the BOSS.

KP: Let th' lad's suck all he wants. As a matter o' fact, ye could yersef some suckin', lass.

Sarah: Scotty! He just implied something oral sexual about me. You know, your wife!

SW: He's the BOSS! He can say whatever he wants! Hey! Ow! Don't punch me! Spousal abuse! Rape! Incest! Help!

KP: Settle down, Scotty. I forget ye two be wed. Me apologies.

SW: Oh. No problem, BOSS. See that, Sarah? He apologized.

Sarah: I see. Do you see this?

SW: Your fist?


SW: OWWWW! My nose!

KP: Somebody get Whatbody a nosepatch.

SW: And a Vicodin.

[Once Scatman is in the Captain's Cabin, “Zap Your Channel” by DJ Sharpnel hits. The galaxians go hamster as Hamster Girl dances her way out.]

NH: And the next challenger. Frm St. Elm, Alabama. She weighs 99 punds f pure cuteness, Hamster Girl!

KP: The girl could stand t' put on about 153 pounds.

SW: 153 pounds? Then she'd be a fatso!

Sarah: I think that's how much Kid Pirate weighs, genius.

SW: Ohhh. Right.

KP: Styles be ye still alive?

Styles: I don't get paid by the word.

SW: You should tell Hamster Girl your peg leg vibrates. She'd be on you like a hamster on whatever the fuck hamsters eat.

KP: Hamsters eat nuts, dasn't they?

SW: Probably.

KP: Then she'll be havin' an all she can eat nut buffet.

Sarah: You don't have wooden balls? Wouldn't want the poor girl to get a splinter.

SW: Bwahahahaha!

KP: Hey!

[Hamster Girl dances her way into the Captain's Cabin, which is now full.]

Styles: Our next two brawlers will begin this match. I guess that means it'll be Jerri Li and Tia Tarr? Oh my GOD!

SW: Oh, I forget Tia was in this match. More meat wallet!

Styles: Sarah, you may want to borrow SMP's Kevlar turtleneck.

Sarah: I know. Scotty's way to into this sick fetish. You should manage the Fetish Freaks.

["Enae Volare Mezzo" by Er plays next.]

NH: The next challenger hails frm Armenia. She weighs 102 punds. Tia Tarr!

Styles: Galaxians, you are looking at perhaps the greatest athlete in 10-year history of BOB.

KP: Too bad athleticism t'ain't as important as Rants, Styles.

SW: Did he just say "taint"? *Snort*

Sarah: Have you Ranted lately?

KP: That be nay th' point! I be th' Actin' BigBOSS! I run this place an' I can do whatereI want.


Styles: What's that noise?

Sarah: I don't know. It's coming from under the desk…

SW: (Whispering) Pssst, BOSS! I think your leg is vibrating!

KP: *Cough*

NH: And the final participant…

["Hung" by Napalm Death hits.]

NH: Frm Intercurse, Pennsylvania, she weighs 123 punds. Jerri Li!

Styles: The rules in this one are really simple, galaxians. Tia and Jerri will fight for the first five minutes or so, then every two minutes or so a new challenger enters play. Brawlers can be eliminated at any time during the match. But pins and submissions don't matter. The only way to eliminate someone is to toss them through the plexiglass.

SW: And look how far down they're gonna fall. This is gonna be great!

Styles: And here we go. Jerri charges, but runs right into a backflip kick by Tia! Jerri goes for the ride and… Cосyankа Kick!

KP: What'd ye say about a cock yanker?

SW: Damn, you beat me to it!

KP: Beat ye t' 't?


Sarah: Guys, can you try not to act like 12-year-olds for a few minutes, please?

SW: Immature behavior is mandatory in my contract.

Styles: Jerri just caught Tia with a kick. Jerri trying to slow things down now and is choking—

KP: A chicken?

SW: *Snort*

Styles: Oh come on!

SW: Come.

Sarah: Just ignore them, Styles.

Styles: Believe me, I'm trying. And Jerri off the ropes and lands with all her weight on Tia's back. Jerri tosses Tia outside. And if I'm Tia, I don't want to be in a brawl with Jerri. Whip into your door, Kid.

KP: Any damages will come ou' o' yer paycheck!

[The camera catches a shot of Scatman's face pressed against a window. He pulls back, leaving a brown face-shaped stain.]

Styles: Jerri tries to whip Tia into the door again, but Tia cartwheels free. And cartwheels back at Jerri. Wow, super-sized spinning headscissor takedown! Jerri might want to check that her ears are still attached after all that. Reverse Frankensteiner on the floor!

Sarah: She should come up with a name for that. Like Tarred and Feathered. That'd be cool.

Styles: Standing Shooting Tarr Press!

KP: I missed 't. Help a half-blind laddie ou'.

Styles: That was a running standing step-over shooting star press off of the back of Jerri, who was on her hands and knees.

KP: She stole that move from me! I called it the Standing Shooting StARRRRR Press!

SW: Yeah! Sue her!

KP: Call Jerry Lawyer!

Sarah: You're making MST3K references? Is Trey ghostwriting this script?

SW: He is the Executive Producer.

Sarah: And has a large penis. Oh, now I KNOW he's ghostwriting. That's a lie.

KP: Quit goin' off-script, lass!

Sarah: Sorry.

Styles: Back in the ring now, and Tia is looking to hit a big move. 900 splash! Nobody home!

KP: That'll rattle yer skull and bones.

Styles: Jerri's got Tia now. Tombstone piledriver coming up! No? What in the world? Sunset flip bomb! Wow! And the galaxians are giving it up for Tia Tarr here at Bearly Legal in our first real match of the evening.

SW: Real match? You do realize this is WRESTLING, right?

Styles: Shooting Tarr Senton misses! And Tia landed hard! Jerri's outside and drags Tia out with her once again.


Styles: OH MY GOD!

Mysterious voice: Tia Tarr, was SMASHED THROUGH THE GLASS!

Sarah: No way! It hasn't even been a full five minutes yet!

SW: What the fuck?

KP: Easy, landlubber.

Sarah: *Sigh* The most talented guys getting squashed. Did we learn nothing from WCW? Or TNA?

SW: No! Somebody better die tonight. What a rip off!

KP: No refunds!

Styles: Well…Jerri's got some time to…well…just hang out and wait for the next entrant.



Styles: What was that?

SW: You don't know what a "bong" is?

Sarah: (Singing) Here comes the dookie…here we go! Here comes the dookie. Dookie dookie dookie. Doodoo doodoo!

KP: That song seems so familiARRR…

Styles: Jerri vs. Scatman. This should be interesting. Jerri charges, but she runs right into a big brown boot. He's got Jerri cornered and now he's driving his shoulder into her midsection.

Sarah: Those will leave a mark.

SW: Yeah. A brown smelly one.

Styles: Jerri with a knee to the head. Jerri trying to head up top. But Scatman catches her and Jerri goes for the ride. Scatman tosses Jerri over the top rope by the hair. Scatman rubbing her face on the wooden floor.

KP: I dasn't think she's supposed t' get splinters in th' lass' eye.

Styles: I don't think anyone is supposed to!

Sarah: If she does, then she could manage you. Knowing Jerri, she'd probably voluntarily chop off one of her legs with a chainsaw.

Styles: Scatman has Jerri up! Oh! Right into the plexiglass! But it didn't break. Though Jerri's face may have! Scatman on Jerri's chest now and just pounding away on her skull.

KP: Jerri be wearin' th' crimson an' scat mask.

Styles: I'm glad you said that. Into a, Scatman's carry position?

Galaxians: OHHHHH!

SW: Holy literal shit!

Styles: He just dumped Jerri on her head in the corner! Jerri's dead! Jerri's dead!

Sarah: I think it's Stinkface time! That was just the setup move!

Styles: You're right, Sarah! Oh no! He's crouching over Jerri's face!

Sarah: I've heard of dropping the dime, but please, Scatman, please don't drop a deuce!

Styles: And there it is! An inverted Stinkface!

KP: Scotty, can I borrow yer shoes? I need t' puke!

Styles: Scatman dragging Jerri up now. He goes to the opposite corner. That's his new move, the Shit Hits The Fan!

Sarah: Styles!

Styles: That's what he calls it!

SW: Really? When I heard that name, I was figuring Scatman would just punch one of these retards in the crowd.

Styles: And now, Scatman is stomping…

SW: A shithole?

Styles: In Jerri and walking it dry. I don't think I can call these moves. Once again outside. Scatman looking to catapult Jerri through the glass!


Styles: Jerri grabs Scatman!




Styles: Wow, Jerri with a burst of adrenaline and trying to drive Scatman face-first through the glass. But amazingly, the glass is maintaining. Perhaps it's being held together by the poo.

SW: Instead of super glue, it's super poo?

Styles: Perhaps, Scotty.


Styles: And that sounds means it's time for the fourth challenger!

SW: And it's time to get high.

Sarah: It's Christian St. Christian!

SW: A three-way with Jerri, Scatman and Christian? It doesn't get much more hardcore than this.

Sarah: The Fetish Freaks explode!

KP: As long as Scatman's rear dasn't explode.

Styles: Christian grabs Jerri and tosses her into the ring. Christian quickly in behind her. And now he's standing on her chest, no doubt looking to crush some ribs. Christian drags her up. What a crushing blow to the skull by Christian.

Sarah: I think Scatman's busted open. It's so hard to tell with the dookie.

SW: Look for a poo-covered razorblade.

Sarah: Hmm. Ah! And bingo was his name-o.

Styles: Scatman back inside now. Sitout Scatbomb.

SW: Scatman really brings new meaning to the phrase, "I know it stinks in here cuz I'm the shit."

Styles: Here comes the Christian Stomp! Christian leaving boot prints on every one of Jerri's limbs and even her torso with this devastating offense. Scatman's turn now. Powerslam on Jerri! Chop by Christian on Scatman.

Galaxians: WOOOOO!

Sarah: It's every man, woman and inanimate object for him/her/itself.

Styles: Chop by Scatman!

Galaxians: POOOOOO!

Styles: Chop by Christian!

Galaxians: WOOOOO!

Styles: Chop by Scatman!

Galaxians: POOOOOO!

Styles: Christian and Scatman beating the crap out of each other.

SW: And off of each other…

Styles: Jerri with a springboard double clothesline! All the Freaks are down.


KP: Who be next?

Styles: It's Hamster Girl!

SW: And you're excited by furries?

KP: I thought ye be excited by fruit? T'ain't that th' runnin' gag?

SW: Taint!

Styles: No clue what you're talking about, Kid. Hamster Girl slaps Christian St. Christian! There's a slap for Scatman!

Sarah: That hamster suit's gonna need a serious dry cleaning.

Styles: Christian with a reversal, and Hamster Girl falls down to avoid Christian's flying move. Jerri's up. Hamster Wheel NO! Jerri shoves her away. Clothesline misses, and Jerri trips over Hamster Girl.

Sarah: And now she's running for her life.

Styles: Scatman chasing Hamster Girl around the ring. She's pretty fast.

SW: Coming soon to theaters. Vin Diesel in "The Fast and the Furriest"!

Sarah: Mmmm…Vin…

Styles: Hamster Girl's worn out though. She's trying to catch a breather. But here comes Scatman. He charges, but Hamster Girl falls down and


Styles: Scatman crashes into the plexiglass.

SW: Hahaha, I think she was about to try her Hamster Hug, but then she realized that it's Scatman!

Styles: Oh no! Christian St. Christian just decked Hamster Girl from behind. And now would you look at this! The Fetish Freaks are all stomping away on Hamster Girl! She doesn't stand a chance against all three of them.

[The Freaks take a break from the pounding to hot dog for the galaxians. They get cheers for this heelish beatdown on the cutest brawler in BOB.]

Styles: Back in the ring. Scatman's got Hamster Girl up on his shoulders now. Oh no. What is Christian doing? OH MY GOD! He just double stomped Hamster Girl from the top rope!

[Cut to a shot of the YGBKIADTAYOOYFMT&AHXXD title belt, staring out the window of the Captain's Cabin.]

Sarah: The title sure wants in this match bad!

Styles: PINK MIST~! Christian has been blinded! Christian's swinging blindly. Oh! He takes down Jerri! And down goes Scatman. Another wild swing and…he just knocked HIMSELF out!

SW: The fuck?

Styles: All four brawlers are down!

Sarah: The galaxians urging Hamster Girl to die. But it's not working, she's pulling herself up. Hamster Girl, the new queen of hardcore?

Styles: Hamster Girl dragging Christian toward the plexiglass now.






Styles: Hamster Girl looking very frustrated. That glass won't break.



Styles: Hamster Girl is down and hurt.



Sarah: So is Jerri after that. Damn. She missed everybody with that plancha.


KP: Finally, I've got me cabin aft. I've got some clistin' t' do. Carry on.

Sarah: Later.

Styles: Only Tia Tarr has been eliminated. Any of these five brawlers could be champion at the end of this match. Vicky's got the title! Oh! She just blasted Christian in the face!

SW: No fair! C'mon, ref!

Styles: A little payback on Christian for that brutal chairshot on iMPLOSION 16! And she's not done.

SW: Holy crap! Think Christian will get off on having his own skull crushed?

Styles: The Hardcore Title now heading to the ring. Springboard clothesline takes down Hamster Girl! And now the Title is brutalizing Scatman! Hardcore Title up top. Crossbelty block takes down everybody! Hamster Girl gets whipped to the corner. Hardcore Splash! Jerri to a corner now. Hardcore Splash! Now the Hardcore Title going after Hamster Girl. SLEEPER! No! Hamster Girl falls down with a strapbreaker. Christian's back in and double stomps the Title! That was brutal.

SW: Somebody please end this stupidity.

Sarah: Please don't say that. Our luck, Axl will come out and kill Scatman or something totally lame like that.

SW: Kill Scatman? Again? He already passed that torch. That's like fucking a girl who lost her virginity a month ago. Big whoop.

Styles: Christian has the title. Chokeslam! Cover?

SW: There are no covers in this match you idiot!

Styles: Christian now heading up top. Diving headbutt on the title! Hamster Girl is literally running circles around Jerri, who trips her and begins beating on her brutally.

Sarah: Christian's asking for some help from the Freaks and Hamster Girl?

Styles: Christian's got the title on the turnbuckles. Christian heading up top. What in the world is this? Jerri joins Christian on the ropes. Oh, are you kidding me! A Tower of Doom spot?


[Galaxians pop at the superplex/powerbomb spot.]

SW: I'd say that the belt took the worst of it, if it were a human. But it isn't, so everyone else needs to have their IQ checked. Seriously.

Styles: All five brawlers are down. The Freaks are getting up first. It looks like Christian has an idea. He tosses the Hardcore Title to the outside. What are they all up to here? They're all grabbing hold off the title. They charge toward the glass!



Sarah: Gahhh! I can't hear out of my right ear. Thanks, Styles.



Mysterious voice: Jerri Li, was SMASHED THROUGH THE GLASS!

Mysterious voice: Scatman, was SMASHED THROUGH THE GLASS!

Mysterious voice: Christian St. Christian, was SMASHED THROUGH THE GLASS!


Sarah: More like, they got themselves. All four of them went out when that plexiglass gave way. Blown finish, much?

Styles: Blown finish or not, we've got a new Hardcore Champion. Hamster Girl?

NH: Ladies and gentlemen! The winner of the match, and NEW You Gotta Be Kidding I Ain't Doing That, Are You Out of Your Frickin' Mind T&A Hardcore XX Division Champion, Hamster Girl?




Sarah: HAMSTER GIRL WON! And I can only imagine the evil things that title belt will have her do. She's so sweet. That belt is going to corrupt her in ways I can't even imagine.


Kobe Gyant

[The camera opens to the backstage hallway, where various BOBsters are milling about. A small kid walks by, wearing an orange hoodie that covers everything but his eyes, and a nametag that reads "Hi. My Name is Kenny". After he's just left the camera's view, Death is shown following closely behind, almost as if the kid is due for a meeting with the Million Dollar Entity, or at least his forefinger... After a few moments, we settle upon Axl's agent, Tifa Witherspoon, who is busily texting a message on her cell phone. Seconds pass, before a tall, black guy walks by... Kobe Gyant. And he's headed for the curtain, to face Tifa's client, Axl.]

[Tifa lifts her head from the cell, and gazes at Gyant...]

Kobe: Hey there, sweet thang.

Tifa: Heh... Hey Kobe. Um... I know I probably shouldn't say this... I mean, I have a vested interest in your opponent and all, but... Good luck out there.

Kobe: Hey, don't worry, you know? Cuz I won't need it.

[Kobe does his famous "double wink"... or is that just a blink? Either way, Tifa smiles at Kobe's charm, and giggles flirtatiously. Kobe smiles back, and heads for the ring, leaving Tifa to continue gazing on at Gyant...]

PigeonSteve Studnuts

NH: Ladies and gentlemen. The following is a no disqualification match!

["Crucify Your Beliefs" by God Forbid plays. A line of Stupids slowly walk the plank, carrying lit Tiki torches. The Stupids line up across from each other, three on each side and hold the torches up as Pigeon steps out from the back. He walks beneath the torches, unloads a snot rocket, and gets in the ring.]

SW: What the hell is that Stupid doing?

Sarah: All the other Stupids are leaving. Why's he following Pigeon?

Styles: OH MY GOD! Tiki torch to Pigeon's crotch! Somebody call the fire department!

SW: My balls have burned before, but nothing like that! Yowza!

[The Stupid unhoods.]

Styles: It's Steve Studnuts! Pigeon's opponent here tonight!

Sarah: Pretty smart for a Stupid.

Styles: And this no DQ match is underway.

SW: At least Studs is being nice enough to stomp out the crotch fire.

Styles: I doubt Pigeon thinks so right now.

[The other Stupids now storm the ring.]

Sarah: I hope those other dudes have eyes and aren't like those Harbingers of Weed dudes I fought with a few years ago.

Styles: Ooooh! Tiki spear to the crotch for one of them.

XXXtreme Machine

Styles: Hey! That's XXXtreme Machine! XXXtreme Machine was a Stupid!

SW: Was a Stupid? He was BORN a Stupid.

The Human Foreign Object

Styles: And that's the Human Foreign Object! Death Valley (Of the Sun) Driver for HFO!

Snapmare Kid

Sarah: Snapmare Kid, too? Hey, look, it's a jobber parade of carnage.

SW: That's three of them. Who else is at jobber status right now in BOB?

Kurt Angel

Sarah: Oh no. Poor Kurt. He shaved his head for you people, and this is how you repay him? Having him be a Stupid?

SW: It isn't much of a stretch, honey.

Sarah: Shut up, dear.

Styles: Hey! Let go of my bottle of water!

Pigeon: My crotch hurts! What about me? What about my crotch!

Sarah: One more left. Who could it be?

[Studnuts unhoods the final Stupid.]

Steel Chair

SW: The fuck?

Styles: Steel Chair was the fifth Stupid!

Sarah: Zuh?

SW: How the HELL could Steel Chair carry a Tiki, Styles? Or walk? Or be six-feet tall until two seconds ago?

Styles: Um….

SW: God DAMNIT, I hate BOB.

Styles: Studnuts drags Pigeon back into the ring. Pigeon is in for a beating tonight.

SW: That's what he gets. What is it with Jews crucifying innocent people?

Sarah: *Spittake*

Styles: Technically, he didn't crucify Studnuts. He "jewsified" him.

SW: Yeah, yeah.

Sarah: You are so evil, Scotty.

SW: Does it turn you on?

Sarah: I got over my bad boy phase about three months ago.

SW: Damn!

Sarah: Now if only I could get over this horrible marriage.

Styles: Studnuts just unloading on Pigeon here. Anything goes. What a clubbing blow by Studnuts there.

SW: Did you ever give Studnuts a "clubbing blow." You know, while you two were out partying in the clubs around Sin City?

Styles: I hope you're asking Sarah.

SW: Dude! Of course I am!

Styles: Pigeon trying to fight back. Oooh, that punch connected with Studs' jaw. Studnuts falls through the ropes to the deck of the pirate ship. Pigeon on the move now. Plancha! Now Pigeon opening the Plunder Hatch! The first time we've gotten to see that.

Sarah: Is it filled with barbed wire wenches?

Styles: That's some wood covered in barbed wire!

SW: Not just any barbed wire, Styles. Look at that design! It's the Star of David!

Styles: Oh no! What is Pigeon doing?

Sarah: Shiny! Pretty!

SW: Are you still Jewish?

Sarah: You don't just stop being Jewish.

SW: How can you let Pigeon represent your people like this?

Sarah: Judaism is hardcore. Have you read the Testament?

SW: You mean the Old Testament?

Sarah: There's a NEW Testament? Since when?

Styles: Garbage bags? That's different. Studnuts is back on the attack though and blindsides Pigeon with a knee to the back. Oh no! Studnuts is wrapping Pigeon's head in the garbage bag, trying to suffocate him!

SW: Oh, I doubt he's trying to kill him. Just kill a bunch of his brain cells. It's not like Pigeon's using them anyway.

Styles: Pigeon's essentially blinded here, as Pigeon's covered by the plastic trash bag. Studnuts looking for a weapon.

SW: What is that?


SW: Aside from broken.

Sarah: I think that was a Kiddush cup. Even the weapons are Jewish here. Neato. The first-ever Israel Street Fight.

Styles: Studnuts has a menorah! And he smashes it into Pigeon's head.

[Pigeon rips open the plastic bag, Hulk Hogan-style.]

Styles: Studnuts with a kick.


Styles: Suplex on the ship! And Pigeon has been badly busted open.

Sarah: Now Studs has a ceramic tile featuring the Ten Commandments in Hebrew! Oy!

SW: Is one of them "Thou Shalt not Jewsify Steve Studnuts on Cable TV"?

Styles: Hello! Right to the ribs. And now Studs lifting Pigeon up. Piledriver on the Ten Commandments! And there's a sentence I could have NEVER predicted saying. Pigeon tossed out to the deck again. Studnuts is just brutalizing Pigeon here to the delight of the heel-loving Sin City galaxians.

Sarah: Keep an eye on Pigeon. I think he just grabbed a glass clock.

SW: Glass cock? What?


Styles: Hello! And Studnuts goes down!

SW: What a blow from that glass cock!

Sarah: Clock! Clock!

Styles: Both men trying to recover now. Pigeon grabs Steel Chair. He's setting it up. Pigeon whips Studnuts to the ropes. Drop toe hold to the chair! Studnuts was already wearing the crimson mask from that clock shot. And after that move, he's probably bleeding worse.

SW: That's the biggest dreidel I've ever seen.

Styles: Good lord!


Styles: Holy shlimazel! With dreidel I will slay!

Sarah: Awww. That could've been MY catchphrase. Now it's ruined forever. Thanks, Styles.

Styles: Studnuts looks out on his feet after that shot. Oh my GOD! Russian leg sweep onto Steel Chair by Pigeon! And Studnuts landed badly on his neck. Pigeon may defeat Studnuts here tonight and end Studnuts' quest for a match with Trey Vincent at MegaBrawl III!

SW: Finally! Here comes the barbed wire board into play.

Styles: Pigeon leaning it in the corner. Oh no. Pigeon Drop on the barbed wire on the way! No! Studnuts lifts up Pigeon! Death Valley (of the Sun) Driver! No! Pigeon kicks free. Drop toe hold! Studnuts grabs the ropes to stop from going face-first into the barbed wire! INCOMING!


Styles: OH MY GOD! Studnuts got out of the way and Pigeon just smashed through the barbed wire! Pigeon is a bloody mess, bleeding from multiple lacerations! This match is horrendous.

SW: Where's Mel Gibson? It's "The Passion of the Jew" here!

Styles: Studnuts dragging Pigeon to center ring now. The galaxians have risen to their feet because they know what's next!

Studnuts: Pigeon, you CAN'T BE ME. But I KNOW, YOU WISH, YOU COULD BE!

SW: Fuck Knuckle Shuffle!

[Studnuts heads off the ropes, simulates jerking off on Pigeon, then tosses some blood off his forehead into Pigeon's face.]

Sarah: I doubt that'll be Pigeon's last money shot.

Styles: And Studnuts connects with the…say it, Scotty.

SW: Fuck. Knuckle. Shuffle!

Styles: One! Two and no! Pigeon kicked out? He kicked out! Studnuts covers him again. One. Two. Pigeon kicks out again somehow. Studnuts hooks both of Pigeon's legs now! One. Two. No! Pigeon kicked out again. Studnuts is pissed. But there's nothing Vicky Jean can do. All she does it count the pin.

SW: Or declare a certain blonde a LOSER in a drinking contest.

Sarah: You so would've lost if Arizona won the Super Bowl!

SW: But guess what. They DIDN'T! Hahahaha!

Styles: Studnuts is checking out the Plunder Hatch now. What will he find? Oh no! A barrel of rum. He's setting up the barrel in the ring now. He's setting Pigeon up top. Oh no. No! Not a superplex!

Sarah: See what happens whey you take pay from Trey Vincent? You just get really, really hurt.

Styles: Studnuts unloads with hard punches. It was nice knowing you, Pigeon.

SW: No it wasn't!


Galaxians: Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!

SW: Both men just crashed through that barrel, which was empty thankfully, or we'd have several hundred galaxians trying to suck up rum off the set with straws for the next hour.

Styles: That thing just EXPLODED upon impact.

SW: C'mon! Neither guy can make the pin?

Styles: Both of them each took some major punishment from that landing. It looks like Pigeon might make it up first. He's using the ropes to get up. I think he realizes it's now or never. He's dragging up Studnuts, who seems completely out of it. Pigeon's dragging him toward that barbed wire.

Sarah: Hello, stupid! You're going to take the worst of THIS one!

Styles: Pigeon Drop coming up! No! Studnuts was playing possum! Death Valley—


Styles: (of the Sun) Driver onto the barbed wire boards! Cover! One! Two! Three! HEGOTHIM!

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, Steve Studnuts!

Styles: What a match. Steve Studnuts. Trey Vincent. There's no way that match won't happen.

Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

[In a hallway of the Riviera, Dr. Silaconne M. Plants was busy yelling at somebody off camera.]

SMP: I know it was you! Listen here, you sick freak. The Doc doesn't play for that team. So quit sending me flowers and balloons and all this stalker crap right now, pal!

Offscreen Male Voice: I didn't send you anything.

SMP: Yes you did! I know it was you. After all, when I heard the initials JL, I knew it was you. John Leary!

Steve Leary

[The camera finally shows the mysterious voice to be, well, STEVE Leary.]

Steve Leary: OK, Doc. First off, my first name is Steve. Not John. I don't know why you and everyone in the Rant Zone thinks my name is John. Second off, I like chicks. Especially redheads.

SMP: I've seen you posting on the BOB Forums!

SL: The huh? I don't post anywhere. I'm just on the booking committee with Skeeter and—

SMP: You're lying. I know your first name is John! You do those stupid commentaries with Skeeter and diss me on them!

SL: Um, no. Skeeter's first name is John. Maybe you're just mixing us up. Steve Leary and John Skeet, not John Leary and Steve Skeet. God, those names suck. Not that I've even seen Skeeter for like six months. Wonder where he went to?

SMP: Do I need to waterboard you to get the truth?

SL: Dude, if you waterboard me, I'll admit to anything. I'm not a terrorist or your secret admirer. But believe me, I don't find you attractive in the least. If I were a fag, and you were the last man on earth, I'd probably choose bestiality or rough sex with a thorny rose bush first.

SMP: You sound legitimate.

SL: And I don't have an erection.

[SMP looks down.]

SL: Haha, made you look! Who's the fag now?

[For that, Leary got a Nipple Cutter.]

SMP: Axl.

[SMP stomped Leary once for good heelish measure, then walked away.]

Sarah: I guess we still don't know who the secret admirer is.

SW: Maybe his admirer is in jail. J-L kind of sounds like jail.

Styles: Are any former BOBsters in jail?

SW: I can pretty much guarantee that one, Styles. There are at least a couple guys walking around now who SHOULD be in jail.

AxlKobe Gyant

["You Know You're Right" by Nirvana plays as we return to the BOB Ballroom.]

NH: The following match is set for one fall. Introducing first, now making his way to the ring, accompanied by his agent Tifa Witherspoon. He hails from Sinister City, Utah, and weighs 202 pounds, Axl!

[Tifa is preoccupied with her texting as she walks down the aisle, while Axl yells at various fans who are wishing painful bloody death upon him.]

SW: I'm looking forward to this one.

Sarah: You're looking forward to an Axl match?

SW: Yeah! I can't wait to see him get hurt bad by Kobe. Nothing gives me more enjoyment than seeing Axl in pain. It just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.

Sarah: You're dead inside.

SW: Unless others are in pain.

["Me So Horny" by 2 Live Crew hits next. Kobe gets the big "you're not Axl so we like you" pop from the galaxians.]

NH: And his opponent. From Los Santos, standing WELL over seven feet tall. He weighs 280 pounds, Kobe Gyant!

Sarah: Kobe has to wear extra-large underwear just to fit his enormous love muscle.

SW: What?

Sarah: Well, he is a giant. He doesn't shop at the big and tall store. He shops at the long and wide store.

Styles: Please!

SW: Quit thinking about his big black penis now!

Sarah: I thought whenever you had really tall guys, you had to talk about how their shoes are like football fields and their head is like the size of a Volkswagen.

Styles: Please stop watching "Smackdown."

Sarah: I don't even get that show where I live.

Styles: In Cloudydale?

Sarah: Uh, sure?

Styles: Can we focus on the match at hand, please?

SW: Do we ever?

Styles: It's rare, I know. These two have quite a lot of history going back to MegaBrawl 2.

SW: Oooh, all the way to December, really? Three whole shows ago? That's some history.

Sarah: Actually, it is for BOB.

Styles: We're ready. Kobe vs. Axl. First time meeting. And here we go. Axl charges but Kobe slides between his legs and into a rolling Boston crab! Wow! And the galaxians give Kobe a standing ovation for that innovative offense.

[In the crowd, a large poster of Kobe that's been drawn by one huge Kobe mark to look like that Obama "Hope" image is held up blatantly behind the match. You can't miss it. Except the commentators do, because it's not a planted sign.]

SW: Is Kobe texting while wrestling? This is getting out of hand.

[Tifa's phone rings. She checks it out, LOLs, and texts back. A ringtone of "Me So Horny" plays. Kobe checks his text message.]

Styles: And Axl uses that distraction to crawl and grab the bottom rope. Kobe's gotta break the hold. Kobe with a stiff kick to Axl's leg. Damn. Axl charges, but right into the Dribbler Crossface! The galaxians on their feet, hoping to see Axl tap out quickly!

SW: Yeah, me too! Five second squash! Five second squash!

Styles: Now Kobe drops that and oh dear lord! He's bending Axl like a pretzel!

Sarah: He can do that to me anytime.

SW: Not unless you're planning on giving me alimony.

Sarah: Alimony?

SW: Yeah! I've got to live in the life I've been accustomed to in our marriage.

Sarah: Please. Your life will be exactly the same. You'll still sleep alone in that filthy apartment of yours. Do you know he doesn't even own a vacuum?

SW: What do I need a vacuum for? I rent. If they don't want it run into the ground, they shouldn't have approved my fraudulent application.

Styles: Kobe pulling up Axl now. Hook Shot Press Slam into the turnbuckles. Nothing but turnbuckle! Ouch.

Sarah: Who do you guys think Tifa's rooting for in this match? Her man. Or her black man?

SW: Oh, this is probably all just a ruse for Axl to get some sort of cheap victory down the line at an On-Demand. He's such a Russo mark I can almost guarantee it.

Styles: You don't think Tifa's been wooed by Kobe's charms?

SW: She lost her chance to be Mrs. Whatbody.

Sarah: Don't worry, Tifa. It's easy to get back in the running once I get this sham marriage annulled. Go work at any strip club Scotty frequents and he'll be in love with you.

SW: She's no Daizee. Or Lacey. Or Sara. Or Allison.

Sarah: Are you naming strippers or ROH wrestlers?

SW: I'm not sure anymore…

Styles: Axl on the offense now. Axl going to work on Kobe's left arm. Cross armbreaker locked in.

["Me So Horny" ringtone.]

Styles: Kobe digging out his phone.

Kobe: It's for you.

Axl: For me?

[Kobe hands Axl the phone.]

Axl: Hello? Hello?

Styles: And Kobe kicks Axl in the back of the head.

SW: Call for Mr. Dumbass. Bwahahaha!

Styles: Kobe locks with a claw! I've seen him grab a basketball like that before, but now he's trying to crush Axl's skull.

SW: I approve of that tactic.

Styles: Wow, Axl with a nice reversal into a juji-gatame. Nicely done by Axl.

SW: There goes Kobe's free throw percentage.

Sarah: Wouldn't it make more sense to work on the right—

[Loud coughing overwhelms Sarah's question.]

Styles: And Axl continuing to put on the pressure on Kobe's arm.

SW: *cough*morebelievablelookingcomebacks*cough*allegedly*cough*

Sarah: Seriously? Lame.

Styles: Kobe with an implant DDT. Both men fighting to get to their feet now. Axl charges and rams Kobe hard into the corner.

SW: Axl's stomping an ADDhole in Kobe now.

Sarah: *Snort* ADDhole.

Styles: Vicky grabs Axl by the hair and throws him down.

SW: Hahahaha!

Styles: Axl charges at Vicky. Wow, what a vertical leap by Vicky! But Axl's so distracted, he doesn't even notice—


Sarah: Superstar Kick! Good night, bitch.

Styles: One, two and no! Axl kicks out.

SW: Damn!

Styles: Now Kobe locking on the Kobe Klutch! While texting again.

[Tifa's phone rings. She LOLs again and texts back.]

Sarah: What are those two texting about?

SW: He's probably just sending her a smiley version of his penis.

Sarah: I doubt it. It wouldn't even fit on the screen.

SW: What?

Styles: Axl just swatted Kobe's phone away. And Kobe doesn't like it one bit. Kobe with a double stomp to Axl's lower back. That was sick! Kobe grabs his phone, sets up Axl, and is heading up top. The galaxians are on their feet.

Sarah: But so is Axl.

Styles: Kobe's crotched!

Sarah: That could be fatal!

Styles: HOODANCONRANA by Axl! Cover! One! Two! No! Kobe gets the shoulder up.

Sarah: Now it looks like Axl is sending a text message.

[Tifa's phone rings.]

SW: And Tifa doesn't look happy at whatever Axl texted her. Must've been his tiny smiley penis.

Styles: Tifa's up on the apron, yelling at Axl. I can't make out what they're saying to each other, can you guys?

Sarah: I can barely hear you with these headphones, Styles. When were these made? 1945?

Axl: Get your head in the game!

Sarah: I think Vince's head is already up there. Zoom zoom zoom!

Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

[The galaxians pops huge as Dr. Silaconne M. Plants charges into the ring behind Axl.]

Styles: Nipple Cutter? That's gotta be a DQ!

Kid Pirate

[Kid Pirate pops his head out of the Captain's Cabin.]

KP: I'll allow it.

[KP shuts his door.]

Sarah: What's up with that?

[SMP and Kobe staring at each other. SMP smiles at Gyant, and leaves the ring. Tifa's trying to help Axl up now.]

Sarah: Wow, Tifa's got some strength. Axl's dead weight right now.

SW: Maybe she really does have a penis!

Styles: Kobe with a rollup! Tifa and Axl's heads collide! One! Two! Three! HEGOTHIM! Kobe with the shocking win!

SW: Sarah, did it look like to you what that looked like to me?

[Kobe looks at his right hand and waves it around wildly as if something gross is stuck to it.]

Sarah: What's that white stuff on Kobe's hand.

SW: Sick! He did!

Sarah: What?

SW: Axl wasn't trying to kick out! He was rubbing one off using Kobe's hand in that school boy roll position.

Styles: What?

Sarah: Seriously?

SW: If we could ever put together a replay, I'd show you.

NH: Here is your winner, Kobe Gyant!

Sarah: Kobe may have won the match, but I think Axl may have won something else here tonight.

SW: A free hand job?

Styles: That's enough! Let's go backstage. Please.

Sam, Sam The Dancing YamKay Fabe

[Sam, Sam the Dancing Yam is standing backstage with Kay Fabe, with the eWmania Belt round his waist.]

Kay Fabe: So, Mr. Yam...

SSTDY: Please call me Sam.

KF: Well, Sam, it seems you'll be fighting Kid Pirate for the Swiss Army Belt. What are your thoughts on that?

SSTDY: Well Kay, it's a great honor to be going for a championship in the second ever BOB match and I will do my best to live up to the expectation that has been placed on my peers. I will give Kid Pirate and his pet parrot Pete, the fight of the last six months of his career, and hopefully with the smoke clears and the fans return from purchasing booze, I will be announced the most excellent winner.

KF: People who visit the BOB Rant Zone will note that there is a bit of a feud running between you and the man known as Dr. Silaconne M. Plants. Care to comment?

SSTDY: Yes I shall. I'm not sure exactly how it started, but I do know how it'll end - with Sam, Sam The Dancing Yam's hand raised in victory and I WILL win the OWTTM in the name of yam's worldwide so that they have a voice that will represent them with all his might. Now if you excuse me, I have some dancing to do

[The camera pulls back, as Sam hits the play button on his disc player. MC Hammers "U Can't Touch This" hits as he and Kay begin dancing...]

Sam, Sam The Dancing YamKid Pirate

[The Jersey City Yam Dance Theme is playing as we return to the ballroom. Sam dances his way down the aisle.]

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is for the Swiss Army Belt. *Ahem* I mean, the Swiss ARRRRRmy Belt. Introducing first, now dancing his way to the ring, the challenger. From New Jersey. This is Sam, Sam the Dancing Yam!

Sarah: Aww, they're booing Sam?

SW: He's a face. You know how this works by now.

Sarah: I figured they'd boo the guy who no-showed in the Rant Zone, but that'd just be silly.

Styles: Many fans are expecting Kid Pirate to do whatever it takes to hold onto his belt. We're about to find out.

["Yo Ho (A Pirate's Life For Me)" by Jonas Brothers hits. Kid Pirate emerges from the Captain's Cabin to cheers from the galaxians.]

NH: And his opponent. Being accompanied to the ring by Pretty Boy. He is the reigning and defending Swiss ARRRRmy Belt champion, and weighs 153 pounds, Kid Pirate!

Sarah: What exactly IS Sam's wrestling style? Can't say I've actually do anything but cut promos and dance.

Styles: He's got a very unique style. You've heard of ground and pound?

Sarah: Weekly, it seems.

Styles: Well, his is more of a wham and scram offense.

SW: Hit and run?

Styles: Basically, yep.

SW: Can't we just go back to the old days when guys drink beer or pop a bunch of aspirin pre-match and then bleed like motherfuckers? Our era is so wussy.

Styles: And this one is underway, as Sam charges at Kid Pirate. Sam unloading with those fists of yam-fueled fury.

SW: Did you know that yam is a street term for cocaine?

Sarah: Seriously?

SW: Yep. I wonder if that's why he's always dancing.

Sarah: And why he thinks he IS a yam.

Half galaxians: Let's go Pirate.

Other half galaxians: ARRRRRR!

Half galaxians: Let's go Pirate.

Other half galaxians: ARRRRRR!

SW: At least we don't do drug testing in BOB. We wouldn't even HAVE a roster.

Styles: Sam is kicking a yamhole in Kid Pirate in the corner now. Off the ropes. Flying forearm! Kid Pirate is rocked. And now he's whipped the ropes, but Kid Pirate holds on and rolls to the floor. Look out. Sam just grabbed a chair.

Sarah: That'll get the bloodthirsty galaxians on his side for sure.

Styles: Sam swings and misses.


Styles: Sweet Splintersinyourchin Music to the chair! Oh my GOD!

Sarah: The hell? That's it? Vicky just called for the bell.

Styles: Wow, that was quick. I can't believe we're getting screwed out of this match.

Kid Pirate: Hold on, hold on. This yam made me be havin' t' get a new peg leg! I ain't gonna take nay cheap DQ victory! Therefore, as Actin' BigBOSS, I be declarin' this match, nay disqualification! Restart th' match, lass!

[The galaxians pop as the match resumes.]

Styles: No DQ? I didn't see THAT coming.

SW: You should really read your script. Page 43.

Styles: Back inside now. Pirate winds up, but Sam ducks under the chair swing. Clothesline by Sam. Snap mare! Sam's got the chair.


Sarah: Kid Pirate's gonna need some peg teeth after that one. Ouchie.

Styles: One! Two! Pirate kicks out. Sam drags up KP. Scoop slam. Pirate fighting back. European uppercut. Kick. Sam catches it. Woodenzugeri misses! Sam charges right into a backdrop, but lands on the apron. Pirate charges and—


Styles: Misses badly. Sam waiting on Kid Pirate to get up. Leaping clothesline connects! Sam looking to celebrate, and how about that? The fans are giving him some cheers.

Sarah: Those cheers aren't for Sam! They're cheering for SMP?

Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

SW: Woohoo! The champ is here! Oh god, did I just say that? Shoot me now.

Sarah: Gladly!

Styles: Nipple Cutter on Sam! And whatever momentum Sam had, it's gone now! SMP just blindsided Sam with that Nipple Cutter. Doesn't he have a match to get ready for or anything?

SW: They must've already laid out the spots.

Galaxians: SMP! SMP! SMP!

SMP: I have one thing to say: Sinister September? Gimme a fucking break!

[HUGE pop from the galaxians on that one.]

Sarah: *Snort* I guess that PPV is dead in the water.

SW: Thank god.

Styles: SMP leaving the ring now, as Kid Pirate heads back inside. KP about to make a wish? No! He drops the peg leg. That was a low blow.

SW: Sure it was. But it's no DQ!

Styles: They're out here now. Kid Pirate rams Sam into the mast. And again. What does Kid Pirate have in mind climbing the ropes. OH MY GOD! What a hoodanconrana!

Sarah: He just grabbed the plastic sword of doom~!

SW: That could put an eye out. Kid better hope it's not his. He's only got one good one left!

Styles: Sam avoids a swing, rolls, and grabs a sword of his own. We've got a cheap plastic sword fight! Sam is blocking everything Kid Pirate is throwing at him, but he's on the defense as this sword fight is going everywhere on the pirate ship now.

SW: Now both idiots are on the middle rope continuing their sword fight there.

Styles: Asai sword attack by Kid Pirate is blocked. Now Sam is out. Springboard sword strike blocked by Kid Pirate. Both men's swords are now locked together.

Sarah: That almost sounded gay pornographic, Styles. Nice one.

Styles: *Ahem* Both men struggling, and both men lose their grips on their swords. Kid Pirate charges and around and around he goes.

SW: Long way to go for a hip toss. Show off.

Styles: One! Two! Sam kicks out! Oooh, and Kid Pirate just buried that peg leg in Sam's ribs. Baseball slide dropkick to Sam's face. Sam to the ropes. Sunset flip by Sam! One! Two! No!

Galaxians: ARRRRRRR!

Styles: Clothesline by Kid Pirate. KP looking for a German suplex here?

SW: Either that, or he's been on the Seven Seas for waaaaay too long.

Sarah: When in Rome…

Styles: Sam blocking the attempt. Sam elbows Kid Pirate in his good eye! Oh man! Kid Pirate is stunned. Polish Yammer by Sam! What a move!

Sarah: I haven't seen that move in like 10 years...when I was watching a tape from the 1980s.

Styles: Sam heading up top, but gets crotched! Now Kid Pirate looking for something to finish off Sam. Skull & Crossbones coming up? No! Sam has him! SUPERBOMB! OH my GOD! Sam could have this one now if he can just make the cover! One! Two! Thre-NO! Kid Pirate gets his peg leg on the bottom rope. Sam can't believe it.

SW: We want weapons! C'mon! It's no DQ! Bring the blood.

Styles: Kid Pirate looking for some plunder now. He's got a chair. Sam can't seem to get up for some reason.

Sarah: He better, or he's going to be gushing yam juice from his skull in a second!

Styles: Killing The Yams! Sam hit it! Sam gave Kid Pirate a false sense of security, and Kid Pirate paid dearly.

SW: Kid Pirate's gonna have some "black pearls" of his own. Irony can be so ironic.

Styles: This should be it! Sam makes the cover! One! Two! Thre-NO! It's Axl?


[The BOB galaxians boo loudly.]

SW: More Axl? BOB needs MORE Axl? Shit.

Styles: He's got Sam locked now. The Drop of Doom! That's his newest move. Axl now essentially is beating a dead yam. He's raining down punches on Sam's skull. C'mon, Axl. Grow the hell up!

Sarah: Sore loser, much? Can't beat Kobe, so beat up Sam?

Styles: Axl's out of here now, thanks to security. Kid Pirate makes the cover. One. Two and NO? Sam kicked out! Are you kidding me? How on EARTH did Sam kick out?

Sarah: He really wants that belt.

Styles: Kid Pirate can't believe it. Hold on. Oh come on. SMP is out here again?

Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

SW: Hahahaha! SMP couldn't let Axl have the last word. Kid Pirate offering up Sam to the Sinister Surgeon. And I think it's time for a little Scalpel's Edge action! Yes!

Styles: Sam has been thoroughly screwed tonight.

Sarah: So those rumors about him and Kay are true?

Styles: No! Well, maybe. I just meant that he got screwed over by Axl and twice by SMP here.

Sarah: And possibly by Kay.

SW: And SMP's sticking around to make sure Sam doesn't get up again. One. Two. Three.

Styles: Damnit! I haven't seen this big a screw job since Mickey Rourke lost at the Oscars.

NH: Here is your winner, and still Swiss ARRRRRmy Belt champion, Kid Pirate!


[Cut to somewhere else.]

Sarah: Oh, look, Scotty. More Axl for you to enjoy?

SW: What? Where's that sword, I need to blind myself.

[Axl is clutching his gym bags, charging for the Yellow VW Beetle of Evil, obviously fuming from losing to Kobe Gyant despite his appearance in Sam's match moments ago. Axl reaches the vehicle, but just as he opens the trunk to toss the gym bags in, Tifa steps into the picture. Axl turns to his agent, and begins to raise his voice at her, gripping the gym bags in his fists.]


Tifa: Dammit Axl, I'm sorry! I wasn't... I didn't mean to cost you the match out there, ok? It's just...

Axl: It's just that you weren't paying attention to the most important thing in your life right now! And you wanna know what that is, Tifa? You wanna know what you SHOULD have been thinking about in that arena, instead of some dumb jock who's after another notch on his bedpost? You SHOULD have been thinking about ME!!! ME, ME, ME, ME!!! I could be the number one contender for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS now! Do you understand that?! Not only would I be facing either SMP or American Panda at the next OnDemand, but in case you forgot, YOU'RE my agent, which means YOU'D be making alot more money than you do now! I SHOULD be facing the champ in May.... I SHOULD be headed for my SECOND World Title reign! But I shouldn't be the one carrying my bags... YOU SHOULD!

[Axl tosses both of his gym bags in Tifa's direction, but instead of catching them, Tifa just folds her arms, and allows the bags to drop to the cement. Tifa looks down at the bags, and then looks back at Axl, staring angrily.]

Tifa: You know what Axe... I'm not going to stand here and listen to your bitching, k? And I'm not carry your fucking bags! You know what, though? Why don't you take these bags, and do what you probably wish Kobe would have done in the ring with his rod... why don't you stick 'em both up your double-wide RECTUM! I'm going to take some time off, and when iMPLOSION 17 comes? Don't expect me to be there to back you up.

[Tifa walks away, and while she does, Axl shouts after her.]

Axl: Back me up?! BACK ME UP?! If tonight was ANY indication, the ONLY thing you're good for is costing me WORLD TITLE shots!!! ... Yeah, you just keep walking! From now on, I only pay you to help increase my publicity, because if you DO accompany me to ringside, you'll probably end up FLIRTING with every guy, and probably gal, that I face! So... So FUCK YOU! ... BITCH!

[Axl continues to stare off into the distance, with Tifa already out of sight. Axl's rage begins to boil over, and finally, he reaches down, picks up his bags... before reeling around and tossing them at his car. He slams his hands down on the front hood, and screams into the night air...]

American PandaDr. Silaconne M. Plants


NH: The following match is your Bearly Legal main event, and it is for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS!

[Galaxians pop. "American Pie" by Don McLean hits. American Panda emerges, lets out a mighty roar, and rumbles down the plank. Panda tumbles over the top rope, then proceeds to walk to every corner and roar at the BOB galaxians.]

Styles: American Panda has been in heavy training for the match.

SW: Ah, that's why he didn't cut any Rants of late, eh? That's the excuse?

Styles: American Panda looks to be in great shape, and no doubt will give SMP the toughest match of his life.

["Smooth Operator" by Sade hits. The fans pop again as Dr. Silaconne M. Plants steps out, as promised, wearing a Kevlar turtleneck. SMP stares straight ahead at the ring for a few seconds before he walks the plank and joins American Panda in the ring. The announcers are silent as an interesting phenomenon begins taking place among the galaxians.]

Galaxians: SMP! SMP! SMP! SMP! SMP!

[Those cheers start to die down as a new chant replaces it, now accompanied by stomps and claps at every syllable.]


[And then those cheers are drowned out by the first chant, which is now also accompanied by stomps and cheers at every chanting of S-M-P.]

Galaxians: SMP! SMP! SMP! SMP! SMP!

Sarah: Man, this is like Hogan/Rock or something. Except American Panda can actually wrestle.

Styles: What an atmosphere. I can't say I've ever witnessed a big match feel that didn't have some major enhancements.


SW: And you'd figure if any match would feature big enhancements, SMP would be in it. Ironic, no?

NH: Your referee for this main event match is Vicky Jean. Introducing first, the challenger! From Birmingham, Alabama. He weighs in at 291 pounds. Americaaaaan Pannnnnndaaaaa!


NH: And his opponent. He weighs in at 240 pounds and comes to us from Naples, Italy. He is the reigning, and defending, ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. The Sinister Surgeon! The Dirtiest Boobie Enhancer in Wrestling Today! Dr. Silaconnnnnnnnnnnne M. Plannnnnnnts!

Galaxians: SMP! SMP! SMP! SMP! SMP!

SW: Is this what it feels like to work at a real wrestling company?

Sarah: *Sniff* I think so.

SW: Maybe they shouldn't wreck the moment by actually having the match? Maybe they could just stare at each other until the show goes off the air.

Styles: We promised the galaxians a match, and they're going to get it.

SW: Why? We've screwed them out of better.

Sarah: Numerous times.

Styles: And here we go! SMP with a headlock takedown! But American Panda with a slight nibble, and SMP lets go.

SW: I hate it when I feel teeth where there shouldn't be teeth.

Sarah: Don't worry, Scotty. You'll NEVER have that problem with me.

SW: Really?

Sarah: Oh, I can pretty much guarantee it.

SW: Sweet.

Sarah: As in I'll never get anywhere near your junk.

SW: Awwww!

Styles: SMP runs into an American drop! SMP quickly up and American Panda takes SMP down with a shoulder! SMP charges and rams his elbow into Panda's masked skull. SMP unloading with punches and chops. Irish whip, reversed. Biiiig back body drop by American Panda! Our first cover! One! Two! No! SMP able to get a shoulder up.

Sarah: Spinning backpaw!

Styles: Plants down again. Cover! One! Two! No! And SMP rolls out of the ring to the floor. But American Panda going right after the CHAMP. Clawsline misses. And SMP runs American Panda into the wood mast! And American Panda goes for the ride into a barrel of rum and hard.

Sarah: American Panda's dreamed of becoming the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION since he was just a cub. And trust me when I tell you, there is nothing like holding the biggest title in BOB.

SW: Really? I would've figured it was just a big pain in the ass to carry around with you all the time. And what if you forget it in your motel room and a maid just chucks it in the trash?

Sarah: I never lost the title, Scotty.

SW: Oh, you lost it. Twice! BWAHAHAHA! Oh, I set you up, baby!

Sarah: *Sigh*

Styles: Back in the ring now and SMP with the cover. One! Two! No! SMP with a spinning neckbreaker! Cover! One! Two! No!


SW: C'mon, SMP! Make him kiss your ass again.

Styles: Modified snap mare. And SMP with a headlock. And Panda just looked to take a bite out of Plants, but SMP avoided that one just bearly. *Ahem* SMP trying for a body slam? No way! He can't get him up though. Bell clap by American Panda! SMP is stunned. American Panda charges, but SMP pulls down the top rope and American Panda is on the floor!

SW: Count him out, Vicky, count him out! *Clap clap*

Styles: Vicky indeed starting the ten count.

VJ: One! Two! Three! …

[Vicky shrugs.]

Sarah: Really? She can't count past three?

Styles: I don't think she's had to since she started working in BOB.

SW: She's a ten-count virgin?

Styles: Apparently.

SW: SMP looks pissed. I'm sure he wanted an easy count out victory.


VJ: Four?

SMP: Five!

VJ: Five!

[Vicky bounces happily. SMP notices.]

SMP: Six!

VJ: Six!

[Vicky says again, bouncing happily as SMP teaches her how to count.]

Sarah: SMP better watch out. American Panda's almost back inside.

Styles: And he just saw him. SMP charges and connects with a punch. SMP heading to the floor now. He's got a barrel of rum and—


Styles: Nails American Panda in the head. SMP dragging American Panda back inside now. Cover! One! Two! No! Panda kicks out. The Sinister Surgeon is putting his hands to use once again now as he's pummeling American Panda in the corner. JUGULAR! JUGULAR! JUGULAR!

SW: But Plants is laughing! That Kevlar is working! Yes!

Styles: SMP punches American Panda. American Panda is stunned. But AP answers with a European uppercut. American Panda to the middle rope. Guillotine leg drop? Oh my GOD!

SW: Did he even connect? That looked so fake.

Sarah: SMP is selling it like a pro regardless.

Styles: One! Two! AndNO! SMP kicks out at two and a half. American Panda charges, but eats a boot. Not literally. SMP off the ropes, right into a Thesz press! Claws! Claws! Claws! American Panda ripping and tearing at SMP's flesh. And SMP now wearing the crimson mask!

SW: Oh no!

Sarah: You know, if Billy Polar ever came back, you'd have a great tag team. The Polar Bear Express. Ooh, plus it'd be perfect for Billy because he could do allll the talking.

SW: That was random. I heard American Panda names his bowel movements.

Sarah: Oh yeah?

SW: Yeah, he calls them all Winnie.

Sarah: Winnie the poo? *Snort* That was TERRIBLE!

SW: Yeah, well, it's been a long night…

Styles: SMP to the corner. Corner splash! Running butt bump! Plants is in big trouble now. BEARHUG! But American Panda can't eat Plants jugular.

SW: His FUCKEN jugular, Styles.

Styles: Plants with an elbow to Panda. Nipple Cutter, no! Back rake by American Panda! Headbutt takes down SMP. Here it comes! The Drop Bear! He's up! Plants gets his knees up!

SW: Yeah, American Panda just got an ass full of knees.

Styles: Med Degree? American Panda back drops SMP right onto Vicky Jean! SMP charges. Double clothesline! Both brawlers are down!

Sarah: Referee down. ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS match. Both wrestlers down. Does it smell like run-in to anybody else here?

["Cyanide" by Metallica hits.]

SW: Who's this?

Styles: I don't know!

[All eyes turn toward the entryway.]


SW: Death?

Sarah: Death?

Styles: Death! We haven't heard from Death in months! Not since MegaBrawl II when he faced Zombie Mr. Fantastic.

SW: Oh, we heard from him. Remember the infamous Michelle pissing on the floor promo for eWmania?

Sarah: Why do I just know you have that thing saved on your computer, you dirty old man.

SW: Your sister's hot! I mean, not as hot as you, but still.

Styles: Death is in the ring. He's eyeing both brawlers. American Panda's up first. Touch of Death!

SW: Oh my God! He killed American Panda!

Styles: Son of a bitch! Death tosses SMP on top of American Panda? What is this?

Sarah: A heel turn?

SW: It must be. The fans are popping like crazy. Galaxians! I meant the BOB galaxians. (Mumbling) God I fucking hate that term.

Sarah: Wait, wasn't Death already a heel? A heel HEEL turn? That's megaheely yo.

Kid Pirate

Styles: And here comes Kid Pirate in a referee shirt? How did he know Vicky Jean was going to get knocked out? One! Two! Three! DAMNIT!

SW: Brilliant! Now we know why this show was subtitled Dead Man's Finger!


SW: Awesome! SMP is the man!

Styles: We've just seen a screwjob of epic proportions.

SW: Fitting to see lots of screw jobs on a show called "Bearly Legal." If only there was more nudity. Sarah, take off your top!

Sarah: Scotty, stab yourself in the face.

SW: No way! I'm too pretty for scars.

Styles: Well, galaxians, it's been an amazing night here at Bearly Legal. SMP is still the champion, but what is up with this alliance between Death and SMP. And is Kid Pirate part of this conspiracy? Fans, join us in two weeks for Total Non-Action Wrestling iMPLOSION! And coming in May, at our next On-Demand, Kobe Gyant vs. Dr. Silaconne M. Plants for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS! For Sarah, Scotty and the whole BOB crew, thanks for ordering Bearly Legal. Good night everybody!

[SMP, Death, and Kid Pirate celebrate SMP's victory as the show fades to copyright.]

©2009 BOB Wrestling! Cross The Lame!



© BOB Wrestling!

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