Brawlers On a Budget > Episodes > In Your Gymnasium 3
House (Show) Of Blues Tour '09
Jackpot, Nevada, June 19
Loss-Of-Control Center, Part 1
[Fade in on Mikey Styles and Scotty Whatbody at the BOB Loss-of-Control Center, a.k.a., Styles' basement. They are seated at a wood folding table and one script they're sharing. A television behind them features some action from a different wrestling federation.]
Styles: Hello Brawlers On a Budget fans! Welcome to In Your Gymnasium number 3! I'm Mikey Styles, as always joined by Scotty Whatbody.
Scotty Whatbody: Yo.
Styles: We missed you last week.
SW: Seemed like that Mike guy was amusing himself. Choking his chicken with hydrochloric acid, or whatever that all was.
Styles: Right. Well fans, today we're going to revisit last week's house show, which took place in Jackpot, Nevada! And since we were in Jackpot, what better way then to draw matches at random.
SW: Oh, I don't know. Planning something so more than two people cut promos. What a disaster BOB is lately. Twenty people at that show? This show probably won't even be posted for another month to "hype up tonight's show." Please. BOB is a joke, Styles. But it's quickly becoming a joke of the unfunny variety.
Styles: Randomness is a BOB trademark!
SW: Yeah, well so are mouth sores on people who have herpes. Do you see them celebrating about it?
Styles: Ohhhhkay. Let's get to it then. Highlights!
[Cut to Axl with a groin claw on Sam, Sam the Dancing Yam's, well, yams.]
SW: And from here, things got really teste.
Michelle: (Voice) Rim shot!
SW: *Sigh* We can't even afford a cymbal?
Styles: Sam connects with Killing the Yams, and effective counter. Both men then connected with crotch punts, and neither man was able to get back up before vomiting.
SW: Greaaaat start to the show. Two BOBsters puking after getting kicked in the nuts.
Styles: No doubt, Sam wants to get the Swiss Army Belt off Sam. In theory. Moving on! Up next, it was a rematch many years in the making. Death. XXXtreme Machine. Death is the entity that finally dethroned XXXtreme Machine after his minutes-long ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS reign at Appetite for Burritos!
SW: Ugh. Don't bring up THAT travesty.
[Cut to Death Netherworld Powerbombing XXXtreme Machine.]
Styles: And much like that night, Death ruled once again, cruising to victory over XXXtreme Machine.
[Cut to Pigeon drop toe holding Steel Chair onto another chair.]
Styles: Up next, Pigeon and Steel Chair clashed in an epic match.
SW: EPIIIIIIIIIIIC FAIIIIIIIIIIIL!
Styles: Pigeon gets the win after a Pigeon Drop.
SW: They seriously let that match go 10 minutes. Michelle, seriously?
Styles: Let's go to a break! And get Scotty a beer or four to mellow him out a bit. Be right back!
UPCOMING HOUSE SHOW SCHEDULE
June 26: Duckwater, Nevada
July 10: Truth or Consequences, New Mexico
July 24: Weed, New Mexico
August 14: Walla, Walla, Washington
Loss-Of-Control Center, Part 2
[Back to Styles and Scotty. A six-pack is now sitting on the table.]
Styles: Up next was an intriguing bout, as Snapmare Kid, The Great and "XFactor" Pete Trable were in a triple threat match.
SW: It's pretty rare that the words "intriguing" and Snapmare Kid are used in the same sentence. But I'm sure you were referring Team Guy Love, The Great and Trable, fighting it out.
[Cut to Trable pounding SMK in the corner. Cut to The Great pounding SMK in the corner. Cut to Trable and The Great pounding SMK in the corner.]
Styles: Things looked bad for SMK, especially after those five minutes of being beaten relentlessly. But he sure turned the corner.
[As Great and Trable look for a backbody drop, SMK counters with a double snapmare!]
SW: Trable was out of it for five minutes on the floor. Only to return and accidentally knock out The Great for five minutes. It was like every triple threat ever!
[Cut to the ending, which Styles explains now:]
Styles: In the end, SMK caught Trable with a super snapmare, only to get caught himself on the way down with a Twist of Great. Kurt Angel was in action next. But against who?
When Hippos Attack!
[Dingy curtains hang over dirt caked windows, barely open enough to admit the flickering light of the neon sign out front. The Covered Wagon Motel is not the first choice of vacationers to Elko County, Nevada. Probably not the second or even the third choice either. But it's cheaper than Cactus Pete's or The Horshu and quieter than Barton's Club 93. Plus they ask no questions.
The door to the motel room opens up and we see Harvey the Hardcore Hippo walk in dragging a couple of suit cases. He tosses one of them on the bed and the other he leaves on the floor then walks out again. After a few moments we see the big suitcase lying on the bed begin to move. Rocking back and forth at first then it flips on end and the zipper begins to move, soon an arm emerges then a shoulder and a head. Finally, as Harvey walks back into the room with a bucket of ice and a couple of bottles of soda, the "Little Person" hops onto the floor.]
Shorty: 'Bout damned time! I don't know why the hell we have to do this every time.
Hippo: Because it's cheaper than paying for two people. I barely get paid enough for food and gas money yet. It's not like I have a title to boost my income. The fed IS caled Brawlers On a Budget after all.
[Hippo hands his little friend one of the 20 oz's before brushing off a chair and sitting down.]
Shorty: Yeah, maybe so but this place is a dump. I don't know why you won't let me make a few calls. This is MY turf after all. I was born in Reno and raised between there and Vegas. I'm sure Dad could arrange ...
Hippo: No! I'm not about to take anyone's charity.
Shorty: It's not Charity, Dude, it's Family ... there's a difference. And it's a difference I plan on taking advantage of. Now who are you facing this week?
[Harvey takes a long sip of his cola.]
Hippo: Dunno yet. For some reason the officials are gonna pick the opponants just before the matches tonight.
Shorty: Well, THAT's stupid. If you don't know who the hell you are gonna face how can you get ready for them?
[The Hippo shrugs.]
Hippo: Guess I'll just have to be ready for everyone. Hey, I've done good so far here, and I think I have enough experience to beat most of the BOB roster.
Shorty: Sigh ... Are you sure about that? What about @xl or Hamster Girl, they seem to have some unique skills and @xl is the Swiss Army Belt Champion. Or how about Kevin, the Pyromaniac. Your costume IS made of polyethylene foam.
[Harvey reaches into his other bag and pulls out a can of fire resistant Christmas tree spray.]
Hippo: Got him covered. Jerri Li is the only one who worries me, but since she seems to be more concerned with the tag titles right now and you are not registered to fight as my partner yet I'm not too worried. I AM kind of happy that Scatman is ... not around right now. I'm not sure I could stand the smell.
Shorty: Alright then, well speaking of crap. I'm heading over to Cactus Pete's to get some quality time in on the crap tables before the show. You want to come with me?
[Hippo shakes his head and picks up the TV remote.]
Hippo: Naw, I'm gonna kick back and relax a bit. I hear they have the National Geographic Channel in HD here.
[Shorty shakes his head and sighs.]
Shorty: You and your Porn fettish. We definitly need to get into some better quality hotels.
[The little guy leaves the room and Harvey settles back. We fade out on the TV as the show When Hippo's Attack comes on.]
Hippo: Whoo Baby!!
Loss-Of-Control Center, Part 3
[Back to Styles, sporting a goofy grin, and Scotty. Most of the beer bottles are now empty.]
Styles: And that's how Hippo beat Kurt Angel.
SW: Huh? Did I blackout again?
Styles: No. That's how he beat Kurt.
SW: I don't follow.
Styles: He cut a promo.
SW: Ohhh. Right. Because Rants = victory! It's a good thing Kay Fabe doesn't work here anymore or she'd so...why are you smiling like a short bus rider?
Styles: No reason.
SW: What's that humming sound. Do you have your phone on vibrate? Is she calling right now? You sick fucko! Oh, I don't even want to know WHERE your cell phone is. Cut to another Rant. STAT!
Some Advice From A 500-Year-Old
[Xing Long, BOB’s newest serial killer (the only others being Albert DeSalvo and Mr. Paradox), is dicing a cooked chicken. Chingachgook is in the background, ironing his kimono in case he is randomly drawn at the upcoming BOB house show.]
Xing: You want the oysters?
[Chingachgook looks up and nods, crying out as he sees a burn mark appearing down the middle of his kimono upon looking back.]
Xing: Say, do you think I’m going to mesh with the BOB crowd? It seems like a bunch of goofballs as opposed to the ‘sharp as tacks’ fighters you described them as being.
[Chingachgook looks up again.]
Chingachgook: BOB had a man with a coprophilia fetish as their champion, they’re sick to the bone.
Xing: Great, I know that gets this Jerri girl off. But I wanted competition. I wanted FIGHTERS.
Chingachgook: Sounds to me like you’re aiming for the goal when gameplay has only just begun.
[Xing rolls her eyes.]
Xing: Give me a break, those guys Axl and Pigeon were doing arm drags and drop toe holds… which DO NOT hurt. Where’s the frickin ground and pound? The brainbusters? Catch-as-can is cool, but these guys aren’t exactly ‘roughing it up’ so to speak.
Chingachgook: Yeah, well, if I had said you were more likely to get a wet willy than an uranage in BOB you wouldn’t have agreed to team up with Jerri in the first place.
Xing: Hmph. By the way, I didn’t want to say anything… but you’ve got spinach between your teeth.
Chingachgook: Oh, shit!
Xing: Violence is my vice, and now that I’ve signed a contract I’m just going to have to force these people to turn the heat up.
Chingachgook: You’re an asshole, you know that? This is supposed to be a family show. I figured once you got settled in you’d just take on a Vladimir Koslov type gimmick.
Chingachgook: Nevermind. Listen, here’s some advice from a 500 year old; something you should listen to. Don’t look back, but look to the future and adapt to your surroundings.
[Xing spits like a camel and wipes her lips with a raging look in her eye.]
Xing: What the fuck is that supposed to mean you old mongoose?
Chingachgook: It means, and YOU should understand this, it’s one thing to don yourself with a crown, but it’s another to adapt to your field and prove yourself within it.
Xing: Pfft, go suck on an egg old man.
[Xing pulls out a carrot, slices it in half down the middle, and throws it into the pot with the hacked up chicken.]
Loss-Of-Control Center, Part 4
[Cut to Kid Pirate giving Xing Long a wet willy. She responds by ripping off his peg leg and beating him unconscious with it.]
Styles: Vicky Jean had to allow it. It wasn't a weapon. It was his leg.
SW: She's psycho violent. Think she'll marry me?
Styles: You're sick. And finally, it was Kobe Gyant and Dr. Silaconne M. Plants in match three of their Best of 7 series to crown a new ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. Kobe was up 2-0 heading into this one, so SMP was looking to stay alive. And this one ended controversially, Scotty.
[Cut to a SMP throwing powder in Kobe's face as SMP's valet and BOB ring announcer Nurse Heidi distracts Vicky Jean by trying to get into the ring.]
SW: MED DEGREE! And this one's over. SMP is back in the game.
Styles: After the match, I caught up with Vicky Jean, who obviously saw the cloud of powder and Kobe's face.
SW: SMP explained to her that Kobe was trying to snort some cocaine and gain an unfair advantage, and in trying to disarm Kobe, some of the stuff accidentally got in Kobe's eyes.
Styles: Because that's just what the tape showed, right? Did you miss the part where SMP dug it out of his pants?
SW: Kobe planted it there. He was trying to frame SMP. He's a reverse racist non-police officer?
Styles: Anyway, Vicky said she didn't see it happen, this match was far too important to end on a DQ, and, honestly, it's better having a guy covered in powder than a guy covered in feces.
Styles: Fans, don't you dare miss us tonight in Duckwater, Nevada! Kobe/SMP part 4! And much more! Thanks for watching. Good morning everybody!
Reach out and Touch Someone Part 5
[Camera up on a cat pacing back and forth in front of a phone, the cat picks up the phone and begins dialing, cut to a phone in a suburban kitchen, it begins ringing, a woman’s hand is seen answering the phone.]
Woman’s Voice: Hello
Woman’s Voice: Hello??
Woman’s Voice: (away from the phone) Hey! I think the phone is for you.
Voice: I’m playin Madden mom, take a message.
Woman’s Voice: I can’t take a damn message it’s a freakin cat just saying meow…
Voice: Did you say cat?
[A thunderous noise like someone rushing down stairs is heard.]
Voice: I got it…Hello.
Voice: I thought you might be calling.
Cat: Meow, meow, meow.
Voice: I do not live with my mom, she lives with me.
Voice: No, whatever to you. So I guess we are getting the gang back together.
Cat: Meow, meow
Voice: No I don’t know his number.
Voice: Wait! What do you mean “Bye”
Cat: Meow, meow
Voice: I don’t care if you don’t need me yet…I’m gonna be there.
Voice: That’s right, and just so you know I should’ve been First.
Voice: Alright I’ll see you soon.
Woman’s Voice: Honey do you want to invite you’re cat friend over for pizza night?
Voice: No mom, cats don’t eat pizza.
Woman’s Voice: Shouldn’t you ask?
Voice: Fine! Would you like to come over for pizza night?
Woman’s Voice: Well?
Voice: The cat said no…alright bye
[Both phones are hung up and we cut back to the cat now sitting back in a recliner enjoying a slice of stuffed crust pizza with extra anchovies. The screen goes dark.]
Caption: To Be Continued...
©2009 BOB Wrestling!