Brawlers On A Budget

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Caption: Friday, August 10th, 2007 - 6:66 p.m.

Location: Metal Manor

[Our camera opens upon the front lawn of the Metal Manor, where a stage has been set up. And upon the stage is a podium, behind which stands the former Swiss Army champion, Metal God, and leader of the Rock-O-Lution, Axl Van Halen. Behind him are two members of the company known as XCW, and at his side is his personal assistant, Tifa Bon Jovi. Seated before the stage are... well, nothing more than Axl's beloved stuffed animals. And between the seats and the stage, a camera, which is rolling...]

Axl: Ladies and gentlemen... at ComeBack's a Bitch, the course of the Rock-O-Lution changed. And this change altered many things, including my relationship with Brawlers on a Budget. This morning, when I first prepared to conduct this speech, I had thought I would be standing side by side with the man that made his BoB debut at C.A.B. - Timothy Russo. The fact is, the course has changed once again...

Axl: For you see, this afternoon, around 12 or so, I turned on the TV... [Axl looks down at the podium... a tear almost forming at the corner of his eye] ... And I tuned into XCW Destrucity's second episode. It was a wild ride... highlighted by some of the best action I've ever seen inside a wrestling ring. And then... as the show came to a close... tragedy struck.

[Axl steps to the side, to show a television monitor, with a VCR laying on top. Axl turns on the TV, before pressing 'play' on the VCR...]

[The video starts off toward the end of the episode, with Timmy-Ru walking backstage, through a hallway, with various XCW roster members lining the walls. There's JJ Mynuz, trying to sell the MilkMan his latest album, which the MilkMan trades off for a bottle of his finest. There's the Door Salesmen - Doug Malenko, Steve Benoit, Vac Vanderson, and of course, the Viagra Boy, Dick Flair. And as Timmy-Ru walks through the exit, he stops, looks back, and sees Krucifix sitting on a heating fan, staring over at Russo as if he knows something Russo doesn't. Tim arches a 'brow, but continues on his way, undaunted. Russo keeps walking, and the camera pans to find his vehicle, a rented limo. Russo slowly opens the door... he places a foot into the limo... he takes one last look around, before getting in... except for one foot, which he places on the ground. He lifts the foot and places it inside... before placing it outside again. He moves it inside... before moving it outside again. Inside... outside. Inside... and one more time outside. Ok, he put it inside, and I think he's closing the... no, he stepped outside again. ... Ok, he steps inside, and begins to shut the door... Before holding it open again and stepping his foot back outside.]

Driver: Hey, can ya hurry up and get in the damn limo? It's not like I don't have better things to do than drive your sorry ass around town!

[Tim finally places both feet in the limo, and shuts the door... when suddenly a heap of sticky, syrupy pancakes is dropped on the limousine, burying it almost instantly. The footage cuts, before coming back to the scene of firefighters spraying down the limo with fire extinguishers for some... unknown reason. ...]

Axl: Alright, I can't bare to watch it anymore. [Axl presses 'stop', before taking back to the podium] As anyone can see from that footage, it looks as though Brawlers on a Budget has decided to strike back at the XCW's countless waffle attacks with something even more cruel... even more vile... even more... delicous. This pancake assault has done the unthinkable. Timothy was forced to pay the rental agency to have all that syrup removed, and as a result, had to sell his company to Rent-A-Lemon to pay for the removal. Almost all of XCW's former employees are now chauffers, except for these two fine men standing behind me, Kevin Ass and Crotch Hall, the Insideoutsiders. But as for Timmy-Ru, he now is forced to live in the sewer and feed off of whatever nasty, icky, yucky things he finds down there. I wish him the best of luck in his future endeavors.

Axl: But onto the important matter at hand. As was revealed at ComeBack's a Bitch, it's true... I, along with the former members of the former wrestling company XCW, WERE the ones responsible for the STWF "invasion". But whether I had help or not, it was I and I alone who orchestrated every last step of the plan. So, technically, it was me... Axl... Van... Halen... who took out an entire half of the BOB roster! ... Well, half of the members with even a shred of talent, anyway. I took out Seth Harker! I took out Steve Studnuts! I put Sarah the Jobber Slayer on the sidelines, and ended the career of Atomo the Living Robot, as well as COUNTLESS others. For you see... I AM... the Legend Killer. Place any so-called "icon" in front of me... and baby, they... will... FALL! And in the March Mayhem tournament ALONE, I obliterated the legend of Sergeant Genocide, and when I faced Coma, one of the longest active members of the BOB roster, and possible legend, well, babe, it was only inevitable that I wipe the floor with his confused ass!

Axl: And then, in the finals of March Mayhem, I stood... with three legendary... LEGENDS. Well, two legends, and a guy whose name is a BLATANT rip-off of Parodyox Inc. ... Anyway, I defeated that degenerate, Jim. I defeated Mr. Paradox, best known for being Sir Zeno's lackey. And of course, I, and I alone, defeated that drug-addicted has-been, douja! Which, obviously, means that I, and I alone, AM the #1 contender to the most undeserving champion in BOB... no, make that e-sports-entertainment HISTORY!!!~1one

Axl: After so many BOB Legends have fallen at the Metal God's feet, there is but one thing left for me to do... and that is capture the Only World Title That Matters. With XCW now gone, and its title along with it, I MUST stake my claim, once again, as the absolute best in this business. And with people like Steve Studnuts and the rest of those geezers out of the way, people that stood in the way of young, hip, edgy, trendy talent, such as myself... It is now time... MY time... to take what is, and truly, what was ALWAYS meant to be mine... the big gold belt.

Axl: One thing I'd like to address. After the attacks I orchestrated... such brutal, bloody, waffle-laden attacks... Comedy Central decided that BoB programming was to violent to air at such an early timeslot. Well, here's a message to BigBoss. As leader of Gunzzz and YoYozzz-

Kevin Ass: Whoa... Gunnzzz... and YoYozzz? What kinda jacked up-

Axl: What, Kev?

Kevin Ass: Uh... er... nothin' boss. Just reciting a poem.

Crotch Hall: Poem my ASS! Axl, isn't that name sorta... gay?

Axl: Yeah, Gunnzzz and YoYozzz, or GaYY for short. What's wrong with that?

Ass and Crotch: ... Nevermind.

Axl: As I was saying... As leader of GaYY, we have an ultimatum. At C.A.B., you, Big B, made a challenge. You wanted me to choose a member of XCW to face a randomly chosen member of the BOB roster. Well, I say, how about we make things a whole LOT more interesting? You choose three names out of that Medium-Sized Bucket of yours, and I'll bring the band. THIS band. Kevin Ass... Crotch Hall... and mio, the NEXT Only World Champion That Matters. With one stipulation. Your team wins? I'll talk with my cousin Ernie VanHalen, who is a major figure at Nickelodeon. Maybe we can work out a deal to get a slot between Rocko's Modern Life and Rugrats. BUT... We win? And I'm named the #1 contender, once and for all, no takesie backsies!!! Let's see if you have the grapefruits to accept this challenge, Big B... because if you don't? The attacks... they'll have only JUST begun. But this time... noone... and I MEAN noone... will be safe. Because we're GaYY... we're here to stay... get USED TO IT!

[The scene takes place in a seedy bar. The seediness of said bar is indicated by its seedy patrons ---- countless thugs, hoodlums, goons, and toughs. There's a guy wearing a Hannibal Lecter mask, and several "women of the night". To top it all off, there is an evil ---- and undeniably seedy ---- midget standing in the corner bedecked with an eye patch. You can talk seedy all you want, but unless you've got an one-eyed midget you're really just talking out of your ass.

SMP and Nurse Heidi are seen at a table, generally more seedy than usual. The Doc is wearing a wrinkled suit soiled with yesterday's breakfast of egg and gravy biscuits and Heidi is dressed like a French Maid. The less said about that that better. Or is it? French Maids ROCK! Especially to guys that have fetishes of women in uniform, i.e. nurses, now dressed up as French Maids. I'm rambling, huh?

Ummmm. Cut to dialog...]

NH: Hey Sil? (she takes a swig from a mug which is OBVIOUSLY full of dark beer like SAMUEL ADAMS or something.) Why are we here? What are we doing?

SMP: (OBVIOUSLY DRUNK and slurring his words, which is only as obvious as I can type "slurred" speech patterns.) Thatsh the peeoint, Heidish. There ish NO point. *hic*

NH: Oh I see. Has this anything to do with Josh and Jim cornering the market on dead wrestlers? And Death cornering the market on dead wrestler's souls? Coma and several others playing up to our, how should I say this? Mentally Handicapable fan-base... douja has the drug demographic, Axl has the gays...

SMP: SILENTH! I shall have thisth make senth. *hic*

NH: Oh, now I get it... you're struggling so much for promo fodder you're now using ideas from so-and-so's airplane reading material? You've stooped to an all-time low...

SMP: NO! [SMP leaps to his feet and flips the table over, from four different camera angles just like in the "Hungry Like The Wolf" video.]

[He is no longer drunk. It was an act, you see? A metaphor. An indication as to how The Smooth Operator feels he's being treated at the announcement of the Mano e Zeno card.]

SMP: This whole bit sucks and is getting suckier by the minute. I'm basically being treated like a bum in a shithole tavern, hence the set-up. But since it's going downhill, I'm just going to pop off about my displeasure about the recent handling of my status and power in this promotion.

SMP: Why am I, the GREATEST PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER of all times reduced to possible "random drawing" to get on a show? Does that increase buy rates? How so, to see if fans will buy to see if I DON'T get put in that match, randomly or not so randomly, that I don't find myself a machine gun and start mowing down people? What's the reasoning?

SMP: All I have is that dumbass Axl Van Halen challenging me to every match under his sun in an attempt to get me on one of his shows and job me out. Like that stupid D.U.M.P. character...

NH: I thought we cleared that up...

SMP: Oh no! Let me tell you this... I will never meet Axl on his terms because he is beneath me. I have no reason to wrestle him, especially on one of his makeshift fly-by-night shows. That's career suicide. I'll meet him in BOB, when he deserves the honor of getting his ass handed to him by me. He hasn't earned that right. Yet...

NH: Okay, but can we go? There's a lot of people in here that's looking at me in a very unsavory way.

SMP: Yeah, let's just end this abruptly and without reason. To symbolize the thinking of the booking around here.

Caption: To be continued...

[We fade in on promo already in progress.]

Jim: Alright so you are telling me that Death, Lord Ackkimentham, Uber Vampire Warrior, Alex Smith, Coma, DJ Rawkus, douja, Hallucination Boy, Kamikazie Ken, Kurt Angel, Little Good, MC Carjack, Mr. Paradox, Pete Trable, Pigeon, Randall Mooby, Snapmare Kid, and Undietaker have a match. And we are in a random drawing.

Massive Man Rendition First: Yep.

Jim: Okay, but I do believe that at least two of those guys are dead. And that’s not even including Death.

MMR1: Yeah, but then again technically you're dead too.

Jim: Yeah but only that one time. But we’re off the subject. You also told me that Dr. Thrilla, Kevin the Pyromaniac, Anne O'Rexic, Queen Mylisiv, Scotty Whatbody and some tool named Logonoa have matches.

MMR1: Correct.

Jim: And we are sitting around hoping against hope that we get randomly drawn to be on someone’s team.

MMR1: Seems to be the way things are going.

Jim: Well this is ridiculous…

MMR1: I agree this is as stupid as…

Jim: Dude hold on, first don’t interupt me when I am ranting and two, let me make the pun about the dead wrestler.

MMR1: Sorry buddy, you go ahead.

Jim: This is as stupid as Bryan Adams not dying of a drug overdose…I mean he was freaking part of a team called KroniK.

MMR1: Nice one, I was going to go in a completely different direction, but yours was good.

Jim: What were you gonna say?

MMR1: I was just gonna say that us not having a match is as stupid as Bryan Adams not being born in the Summer of “69”.

Jim: See I don’t get that.

MMR1: How can you not get that? Brian Adams sang “Summer of 69”.

Jim: I didn’t know he was a singer too. I mean I know he played The Demon for like one day, but a singer?

MMR1: No dude. Bryan Adams wasn’t a singer, Brian Adams was the singer.

Jim: Not following you…

MMR1: Bryan Adams with a Y was a wrestler. Brian Adams with no Y was the singer.

Jim: Oh was he the guy who sang “Jack and Diane”?

MMR1: No that was John Mellencamp.

Jim: Oh then what’s so bad about Brian Adams?

MMR1: Other than he’s Canadian?

Jim: Enough said. But what are we gonna do about the card?

MMR1: I don’t know dude. I just don’t know. I mean, I bet if we were feuding with someone we’d be getting better matches. But ever since Jon O’Hurley took over the Feud they aren’t returning our phone calls.

Jim: That sucks…that reminds me did you here Merv Griffin died.

MMR1: Tragic, truly tragic loss of life is never funny.

Jim: DUDE! I just got a great idea on how we can start starting feuds.

MMR1: How?

[Jim runs to the kitchen. Jim returns from the kicthen with an apple. Coincidently, there is a knock at the front door. Jim answers…it’s the paper boy.]

PB: Good afternoon sir would you like to start receiving the Akron Beacon Journal?

[Jim takes a bite out of the apple and spits it in the kids face.]

Jim: Dat’s not cool.

PB: I’m telling.

[Kid runs off, and Jim shuts the door.]

Jim: It’s so easy. Spitting equals instant feud.

MMR1: I don’t know dude, I mean that’s a pretty cheap way to start a feud, are you sure we’re not over looking an even easier way.

Jim: Like what. Challenging someone to a match or even saying something as simple as Axl Van Peltin is a homo…its been done to death, dude.

MMR1: No man I am not saying we should start going around calling for example Sir Zeno an inter-dimensional tranny. But...but spitting dude that’s just bad manners.

Jim: Alright dude we’ll give it a week, but if things haven’t changed I am buying a whole bag of apples.

MMR1: Deal, because “We’re back, and we’re still better than ya’ll”

[Later the same day, in the same same seedy bar which has now, over time, became even more seedier...]

NH: Okay, have you taken the time to figure out how to explain yourself and your earlier remarks?

SMP: Not really, but it's not like you have to be the proverbial rocket scientist or even a short order cook to figure things out around here. Insano Mano, a guy who's nothing more than a glorified stuntman, gets a shot at the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS? I mean really.... the guy's not even Mexican! It is to laugh. I should be facing Zeno. That's a guaranteed sell-out right there!

NH: Doctor Plants? You do realize that BOB has never had a sell-out, right? Well, except for that one time when we had that "DESTROY NEIGE" show...

SMP: I won't stand for it. I simply will not sit around and wait for my name to be pulled out of a bucket. I'm going to make a statement at Mano e Zeno. I will be there! AND HELL.... IS COMING WITH ME!!!

[BigBOSS is walking backstage.]

Michelle: Hi, BigDADDY!

BigBOSS: Michelle, my favorite tax deduction! How are you?

Michelle: Good. And you?

BigB: Oh, I've got plenty to say about that quite frankly. Tonight quite frankly. In a very ring. Quite frankly?

Michelle: Uh-huh.'s great to have you back in a much more prominent role now that Dubya's dead. Because God knows us wrestling fans can't get enough of promoters booking themselves into the show.

BigB: What, you thought I was going to let Leary run the show?

Michelle: No, I figured you'd let Skeeter run the show, actually.

BigB: Why?

[Michelle shrugs.]

Michelle: Just a hunch.

BigB: Well, Michelle. I need you to do something for me. I want every BOB wrestler to be in the ring for the opening of the show.

Michelle: Uh, BigDADDY, this IS the opening of the show. See, that's Clive right there taping you.

[BigBOSS looks at the camera.]

BigBOSS: Oh...right. Then...for the next segment after the opening video.

Michelle: We don't HAVE an opening video.

BigB: We don't have an opening video? Gosh darn budget cuts. So...?

Michelle: So you should go to the ring right now, because everybody is already in the ring.

BigB: Are they all psychic or something?

Michelle: Yes. They have an ability to read their future. In script form.

BigB: Eerie.

Mano e Zeno

[Cut to ringside, and Mike Monroe and Scotty Whatbody.]

MM: Hello everyone, and welcome to Mano e Zeno. As you can see, several members of the BOB roster are gathered in the ring for what will most likely be Scotty Whatbody's last BOB event ever.

SW: Fuck you Leary! And fuck you Monroe.

MM: Excuse me?

SW: I thought he was just kidding about me facing Logonoa! How can you be happy to see me go? We're best pals!

MM: You despise me and make fun of me every week.

SW: It's how I show affection you ungrateful fuckpuppy.

["Taking Care of Business" plays. BigBOSS steps out to a loud cheers.]

SW: Good to see they haven't cut the canned cheers budget yet.

MM: What a reaction for the owner and president of BOB.

BigB: Hello, Sin City!

Fans: Hello, BigBOSS!

BigB: I've got several things to talk about tonight. First and foremost, your checks are all in the mail. Second and secondmost. Several months ago, I was approached by a certain BOBster and given a large sum of money to pay off the United States government and make all my troubles go away financially. I will not name this man or woman or entity or inanimate object, but I will say this. This is MY company once again. You've had your run, but no more.

MM: What is he talking about?

SW: I have no idea, Monroe. Somebody actually bribed BigBOSS? Where did he get the money?

BigB: So, as of today, I am running BOB once again.

Michelle: *Ahem*

BigB: Oh, and of course my darling daughter, Michelle. And those other monkeys on our writing staff. But I get the last word. So it ain't over 'til I say zyxt.

SW: So, what he really means is that he's already gone through all the money that he was bribed with.

MM: Probably.

BigB: But this also means that I am open to new bidders and bribers for the last word. And I know these are tough times for all of us. But a donation to my pockets would show me just how much you care about me and my lovely wife. I'm a very greedy person, and all I need is more money. Nothing shows sympathy and love quite like an under the table bribe that can't be declared to the IRS. Speaking of the IRS...

MM: Uh-oh. Put the kids to bed, fans.

BigB: Golf and taxes have a lot in common. You drive hard to get to the green, and then you wind up in the hole.

[A rim shot is played over the speakers. Nobody's l$hing.]

Death: And people say MY jokes are bad.

BigB: Call me crazy, but when I make money off of my wrestlers work, why should the government make money off of me making money off of other people? It's so hypocritical. This is not a pyramid scam. This is business.

Death: BWAHAHAHAHA! (Beat) Oh, sorry, you were serious about this being a business?

Alex Smith: (Bullhorning) The income tax does not meet either criteria of Constitutionally legal taxation in America, that is direct apportioned tax or indirect uniform tax. The IRS claims that the 16th Amendment allowed for a third form of taxation, however, the Supreme court ruling on the amendment states that it allows for no new forms of taxation. More supreme court cases in the same period confirm the same conclusion. The 16th Amendment did not allow the Federal Government to levy a new tax, thus there is no Constitutional basis for the income tax.

AS: The findings of the Grace Commission, a Blue-Ribbon panel appointed by President Ronald Reagan found that one hundred percent of what is collected is absorbed solely by interest on the federal debt. All individual income tax revenues are gone before one nickel is spent on the services taxpayers expect from government.

AS: Education, health and community upkeep is paid for out of state and local property taxes, gas taxes, liquor taxes, you name it. Proceeds from the income tax do not pay for these things. The income tax money goes to pay for defense and the expansion of corporate America. In essence everyday American people are funding expansionist wars and the playboy lifestyle of the financial institutions that then further profit from that activity and become ever more powerful.

AS: The income tax is the tool of totalitarianism. It is the means by which the corporate controlled government manipulates the people on a mass scale and locks them into servitude. If the people do not know what their rights are then an agency that knowingly breaks the law is not going to tell them.

AS: The banks now control America. They print the currency and tell the people what it's worth. They have the legal right to counterfeit money. This coup d'etat of benign open and accountable government by elitist private interest represents the tipping point from freedom and the long slide towards fascism. Since the government's primary goal stopped being the welfare of the people it has ceased to exist as a legal entity.

BigB: Right...that's exactly what I was going to say before you rudely interrupted me. Anyway...onto this evening. Even though times are tough, I'm not above motivation to get a decent match. So, as everyone knows, an 1!-man battle royal has been scheduled for tonight. However, what everyone doesn't know is that the winner of the match will receive a special prize.

[There is a honking noise. Slowly, a silver car drives out behind BigBOSS through the doors of the ballroom.]

BigB: That's right, the winner of this battle royal gets this brand new Chevy Aveo.

SW: Isn't that a blender on wheels? Who'd want that POS?

[MC Carjack pulls Mr. Leary out of the driver's seat.]

MCC: Yo, you just been jacked, foo'!

BigB: Hey, hey. Get back in the ring, Carjack.

MCC: There you go again oppressin' us peeps, yo!

BigB: Ding, ding, ding. Let the match for the GM begin.

MM: Well, you know BigBOSS is back in control because we've got ourselves a battle royal.

SW: Yeah, an 18-man battle royal. We couldn't scrape together two more guys for this?

MM: Undietaker grabs DJ Rawkus by the throat. He's got DJ's boxers. And DJ is tossed over the top rope. It is absolute chaos out here fans.

SW: Yep, it's fustercluck city. Nobody has any room to move or do anything. Why are battle royals so cool?

MM: You better be careful, Scotty. I don't think you need any more bookers gunning for you tonight.

SW: Don't remind me.

MM: Somebody else just lost their undies. Who is that? It's MC Carjack.

SW: Guess Lay-Z are freeballin' in da house tonight.

MM: And there goes Carjack.

SW: Did he break his neck? Damn, he's moving? One of these days...

MM: Did douja get eliminated? I don't see him in the ring.

SW: Well, the lighting is pretty bad out here. If you see some floating eyeballs, that'll probably be him.

MM: You did not just say that, did you? I think I'm going to be glad to have a new color commentator next month.

SW: Hey, if it's my last night in BOB, I'm pissing off everybody. It's not like I'll ever have to see douja again and get my comeuppance. You know how they make roads in Parts Forgotten, don't you?

MM: Don't say it.

SW: They make the black people lay down and have every other one smile.

MM: Scotty.

SW: You know what was long and hard on douja?

MM: What?

SW: First grade! BWAHAHAHAHA! What do you call douja and a bunch of his friends falling down a hill. A mudslide!

MM: Please stop. This isn't funny at all.

SW: What did douja get for Christmas?

MM: *Sigh* What?


MM: C'mon Scotty, we've got a match to call. I had no idea you were such a racist. The Rev. Al Sharpton's gonna want to talk to you after he hears this.

SW: Please. I'm not prominent enough for Rev. Al to care about me.


MM: And Hallucination Boy eliminates himself to avoid a charging Lord Athackkimentham.

AS: (Bullhorning) A quick note before I'm eliminated regarding the 9/11 conspiracy show that aired this week on the History Channel. Hearst Publishing's Popular Mechanics, the premier name in yellow journalism, were featured on the show as the most prominent debunkers, shilling for their corporate bosses in a brazen display of cronyism.

SW: Not cronyism!

AS: (Bullhorning) The History Channel is part of the A&E Television Network which is jointly owned by The Walt Disney Company, The Hearst Corporation, and NBC Universal. The owners of Popular Mechanics are also the joint owners of the History Channel! Once again it is not a good starting point for a neutral investigation when the people you choose to represent one side of a factual debate are actually on the payroll. It makes Fox News appear fair and balanced in comparison!

LG: C'mon, mate. Just put your bloody finger on my chest and kill me already! I can't do squat anymore.

Death: It's much funnier watching you suffer.

LG: C'mon! I did yur mum in the bum!

Death: No you didn't. You weren't even alive back then.

LG: Alright...well, if yur mum was alive, I bloody well would do her in the bum.

Death: My mom wouldn't get near you. Have you seen your teeth?

LG: What's wrong with my teeth?

Death: Aside from the fact that they're all yellow and going in every direction, then absolutely nothing. And you smell. You smell more corpsey then several corpses I've known. You're sure you still have a heartbeat?

LG: Yeah.

Death: Well, you're about to not have any undies.



MM: And there goes Little Good. Undietaker tosses out another participant in this battle royal for the grand prize.

SW: What a prize. I hear the Aveo has 150 gerbilpower engine.

AS: (Bullhorning) Furthermore, the other joint owner of The History Channel, NBC Universal, is run by General Electric, the world's second largest corporation and one of the major players within the military industrial complex. GE is a major supplier of arms and the “war on terrorism” has seen GE’s government and military contracts rise substantially to over 2.2 billion. In short, GE really has very little to gain and a great deal to lose from probing into questions concerning the possibility of 9/11 being a military intelligence operation to seed the "war on terror" and to justify a huge increase in military activity around the globe.

AS: (Bullhorning) Despite the fact that this charade was seemingly another crude smear job, we should thank the History Channel for attacking us because it only ensures that more people will check out the evidence for themselves and discover what was deliberately buried by the debunkers.AS: Bullhorning) As we head towards the sixth anniversary of 9/11, our numbers are larger than ever and our credibility is growing, while lying corporate media whores like the History Channel lose respectability at a rate rivaled only by their hemorrhaging of viewers.

SW: BOB knows all about hemorrhaging viewers.


MM: Mr. Paradox is apparently tired of hearing Alex Smith's rantings, as he just took out Smith's bullhorn with his sword. Paradox grabs Smith and tosses him to the floor.

RM: Jesus Christ!!

MM: Oh, it looks like Pigeon just pulled out his stapler. Pigeon is shooting staples at Mooby, and Mooby doesn't like it one bit. And now Pigeon hits Mooby in the face with the stapler. And Mooby is tossed out.

SW: Pigeon proves that the stapler is mightier than the spatula. Damnit...what did I see in that burger-flipping son of a bitch?

MM: You have an eye for the talentless.

SW: Blow it out your ass.

MM: Snapmare Kid has the Undietaker. But he can't land the snapmare on the big man.


MM: And there go SMK's briefs.

SW: That boy better start praying to his lord and savior...oh, too late, he's eliminated.

MM: Undietaker has been dominant in this battle royal so far. Oh, Coma just nailed Lord Athackkimentham with a Horizontal Guillotine Trip.

SW: He's going to seriously injure one of our wrestlers some day. I can't wait to see which one. Who do you have in the injury pool, Monroe?

MM: Hallucination Boy and Pete Trable. Who'd you get?

SW: Insano Mano and Kay Fabe. I think I got a bum deal. Mano is too much like a cartoon character to ever get seriously injured.

MM: Coma just eliminated Lord Athackkimentham.

SW: Santa might shove a candy cane up his ass for that one.

MM: Lord Athackkimentham is back in the ring and the Skull & Bones Society is pounding away on Coma. These four have a history together.

SW: Oh, right. They kicked Coma out because he wasn't evil enough. It looks like the bookers finally remembered that angle.

MM: But look at this. Kurt Angel just got Death into the Angel Lock. And now Pigeon grabs Uber Vamp. Pigeon Drop.

SW: Oh no. Coma just eliminated Lord Athackkimentham AGAIN? Oh man, how bad must it feel to get eliminated from a battle royal two times in a row by the same guy? He'll be sleeping in the reindeer barn tonight.

MM: Look out. Kamikazie Ken is up top. Uber Vamp is laid out. It's a reverse one and a half somersault with three and a half twists splash. And the crowd erupts at that one.

SW: Hahaha! Pigeon just tossed out Ken as he was soaking up all the cheers from the highspot junkies here in Sin City.

MM: And Trable just knocked Kurt Angel off Death.

Death: Thanks.

PT: Yo, maybe we can team up and--

MM: And a Touch of Death sends Pete Trable flying out of the ring and to the floor.

SW: Why is it that in battle royals, finishing holds always make people fly over the top rope instead of knock them out like usual. I should ask Kay Fabe about that one. Then maybe take a tire iron to the back of her knee.

MM: Scotty?

SW: Well...I might need some extra cash. Anybody know where Kay is?

MM: That's terrible. Oh, and Death has Kurt Angel set up for the Netherworld Powerbomb. Oh no. He's walking him toward the ropes.

SW: Bombs away!

[Big pop.]

MM: Kurt Angel was just powerbombed onto Pete Trable on the floor.

SW: Nice Trable spot.

MM: Coma with a Pain Lift on Mr. Paradox, but Paradox counters with a kick to the balls.

SW: Put that in all the trailers! BWAHAHAHA! Nut shots rule! All the coolest movies and shows have nut shots! Hell, "Robot Chicken" wouldn't be able to fill up five of their ten minute shows without them.

MM: I don't know. I think they're almost passe at this point.

SW: Are you like 70 years old? Grow down, will you?

MM: And Paradox just tossed Coma out of the ring to the floor. Paradox no doubt looking to score a win here and get back in contention for the Swiss Army Belt.

SW: Yeah, you'd think so, wouldn't you? When did he last promo? 2005? I can't even remember.

MM: I don't think it's been that long, Scotty. Pigeon's got Uber Vamp up. And there goes Uber Vamp.

SW: That had to take some muscle. Uber Vamp isn't exactly a lightweight. He must be drinking a lot of fat people blood lately. Seriously. He might consider going to Overdrinker's Anonymous.

MM: Well, obesity is a big problem in this country. No pun intended. Undietaker and Mr. Paradox seem to be talking some strategy here. Undietaker, of course, had his contract bought by Sir Zeno, which allowed Zeno to retain the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS at MAYhem In MAYday In May.

SW: Haha, Paradox just stuck a sword in Undietaker's back there.

MM: Indeed. Paradox just tried to toss Undietaker out, but Undietaker managed to fight free. And now Undietaker is charging after Paradox. Undietaker misses a clothesline. But what is this? Pigeon and Mr. Paradox just combined to clothesline the Undietaker out to the floor?

SW: Nice. I see some trouble brewing in Dimension Z after that one. Maybe Mr. Paradox is tired of being Zeno's servant.

MM: It could be. But no time for Pigeon to celebrate as Mr. Paradox just tossed him out as well. Oh, and now Pigeon and the Undietaker are brawling out here on the floor. Pigeon hasn't forgotten that Undietaker cost him the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.

SW: Undietaker shouldn't be too upset. I don't even think that big freak could fit in that Aveo.

MM: We are down to the final two. Death and Mr. Paradox. One of these two will get that Chevy Aveo, made by the evil GM corporation.

SW: How do you know they're evil?

MM: They're a corporation.

SW: Oh, right, duh. Silly me. Do you smell smoke?

MM: I think so. Death and Mr. Paradox do have some history here in BOB. Mr. Paradox defeated Death for the Are You Out Of Your Frickin' Mind Hardcore Title Belt a couple years back.

SW: He did? How do you remember this shit?

MM: I actually pay attention when I'm at work.

SW: Laaaaame.

MM: Can Paradox get the best of Death again here tonight? Death charges, but Paradox grabs his arm. What is he doing?

SW: Oh no. He's trying to--


MM: Oh no. He just snapped off Death's killing finger.

Death: Dude? What the fuck?

Mr. Paradox: Who wants a finger?

Death: I do.

Mr. Paradox: Who wants a finger?

Death: Me. I would really like to have the finger.

Mr. Paradox: Go get it.

[Paradox tosses Death's index finger over his shoulder.]

Death: Wait till you see what I'm gonna chop off of yours with my scythe....asshole.

MM: Paradox charges and he's got Death. Death has been eliminated.

[Huge pop.]

MM: Paradox wins. Paradox is the owner of the Chevy Aveo.

SW: Wait a second. Look at this.

[douja slides into the ring, grabs Paradox and easily tosses him over the ropes to the floor. The crowd boos.]

NH: Here is the winner of the Chevy Aveo.....douja!

MM: The crowd doesn't like this one.

Crowd: Boo! Boo!

SW: Are you sure they're saying "boo" and not saying "dou-ja"?

MM: I don't think so, Scotty.

Death: Does anybody have any superglue?

SW: I thought douja got eliminated.

MM: We never did see him get eliminated. Do we have the footage? Where was he?

SW: I did smell chronic a few minutes ago. He must have been having a doobie break under there while the match was going on.

MM: Let's go to the BOBTube instant replay and see what happened.

[A really pixelated cell phone capture shows douja rolling out of the ring early in the match and heading under the ring.]

MM: Well fans, apparently douja got stoned under the ring all that time.

SW: Is this a wrestling company or high school?

[Backstage, Dr. Thrilla is with BigBOSS.]

DT: *Angry metal clanging*

Cecil: Yes doctor, I'll tell him.

BigB: What's the problem?

Cecil: It seems as though somebody burned several of Dr. Thrilla's favorite Mexican gangsta rap CDs.

DT: *Corrective metal clanging*

Cecil: Ah, pardon me. That would technically be Mexican cartel rap.

BigB: You think it was an inside job?

Alex Smith: (Offscreen on bullhorn) Thrilla's arson was an inside job! Thrilla's arson was an inside job!

BigB: Thank you, Alex. Do you know who did it?

Kurt Angel: Hey.

BigB: Hello, Kurt. We're kind of in the middle of something.

KA: You want to find out who torched your CDs? Well I want to find out who torched my bottle of painkillers. Look at it! It's all melted!

DT: *Irritated metal clanging*

Cecil: The doctor says you really, really, really suck, and he doesn't want you anywhere near him.

KA: I do not suck! That is so five years ago.

BigB: You're sure those are painkillers, right?

KA: Of course.

BigB: Good. Because we don't need any stertoid controversies.

KA: That problem went away when Steve Studnuts and Trey Vincent left the company.

DT: *Annoyed metal clanging*

KA: Dr. Thrilla. I promise I will bring the perpetrator to justice.

BigB: Don't you have a match with Kevin the Pyromaniac to go to?

DT: *Annoyed metal clanging*

Cecil: I won't be repeating that.

[Cecil and Dr. Thrilla head offscreen.]

BigB: So who do you think did it?

KA: Don't worry, BigBOSS. I ran my own private investigation agency for several weeks a while back. It won't take much time at all. Now, about payment...

BigB: Hey, that's between you and Dr. Thrilla. I don't really care who burned his CDs.

KA: You're not a very big fan of cartel rap, are you BigBOSS?

BigB: No. I'm not.

KA: Mm-hmm.

BigB: What? I'm not a suspect, am I?

KA: Great job booking douja to a win in that battle royal. I had absolutely no use at all for a car.

BigB: ...

KA: Yeah. I thought so...

[Kurt walks off. BigBOSS heads down the hallway, pulls out a key card and heads into his hotel suite. Pigeon runs in behind him.]

Pigeon: We need to talk.

[BigBOSS sighs and heads behind his desk. Pigeon pulls up a seat.]

BigB: And that's why Andrew Jackson was the greatest president in United States history.

Pigeon: What? Did I miss something?

Big: Oops. That was the old script. My bad.

Pigeon: Seriously. What do I have to do to get booked into a marriage angle with Michelle? Staple a $20 bill to your head?

BigBOSS: No, you could just HAND me the $20.

[As Pigeon goes to hand BigBOSS the bribe, there is a clicking noise as the hotel door shuts. Pigeon and BigBOSS look over to see Michelle. Angrily, she rips the $20 bill away from Pigeon.]

Michelle: Is that all I'm worth to you, BigDADDY? $20?

[She steals the money and stomps out of the room.]

BigB: Hey! That's my $20!

[BigBOSS runs to the phone.]

BigB: Hello? I've been robbed. Lockdown the entire block. Michelle cannot escape with my $20. Oh, this is housekeeping? So I guess you couldn't set a wake up call for me as well? Fine, yes, send up some pool towels. Goodbye. Pigeon, she's getting away.

Pigeon: Would you like me to go get her?

BigB: If you get my $20 back, I'll be grateful for a couple of days.

Pigeon: This is an S.O.S.
Don't wanna second guess
This is the bottom line
It's trueI gave my all for you
Now my heart's in two
And I can't find the other half
It's like I'm walking on broken glass
Better believe I bled
It's a call I'll never get

BigB: Will you stop quoting evil rock 'n' roll bands and get me my precious money?

Pigeon: Hey, it's my thing. Sometimes you're the Pigeon. And sometimes you're the statue. You're just jealous of my giant horseco--

[Cut to a video clip of XXXtreme Machine flat on his back and bleeding like a stuck pig. Fade to black.]

Caption: XXXtreme Machine returns at "A Chance Would Be A Fine Thing II"

Caption: You've been warned

[Fade to black.]

[In a hotel hallway, Styles was on camera.]

Styles: OH MY GOD! XXXtreme Machine is returning? Whose bright idea was this? Well, on a completely unrelated note, please welcome Mr. Leary.

[The camera pans out to reveal Mr. Leary standing with Logonoa.]

Mr. Leary: Hello Styles. Tonight, Logonoa is going to rid BOB of an STD. That's right, BOB will finally clear up it's nasty case of SW.

Styles: You mean Scotty Whatbody?

Mr. Leary: That's right, Styles. Think about it. All Scotty has done here is make sexually outrageous remarks and vulgar remarks about women. He's like a crab that just keeps pinching your nads. And these nads have had enough!

Styles: What the HELL are you talking about?

Mr. Leary: Last month, Scotty Whatbody threatened to rape me as well. What kind of message does that send to the kids? He said he wanted to "eff" me. Well, BOB does not do rape storylines, unlike some other federations.

Styles: You do remember Spacecop and Spaceduck, don't you?

Mr. Leary: Will you stop interrupting with your lies, Styles? Nobody, and I mean, nobody, gets away with questioning my booking goods.

Styles: By the way, whatever happened to Generic Foot Locker Employee.

Mr. Leary: Oh...he got a raise at Foot Locker and quit BOB. And Scotty. Maybe you can get a job at Foot Locker when Logonoa gets done with you...(Leary looks at Logonoa) Though I hear that Scotty would love to work in Disneyworld.

[Logonoa's eyes go wide and he charges at the camera. There is an extreme close up of Logonoa's teeth.]

Mr. Leary: Hey, stop trying to eat the camera you fat bastard and save it for Scotty.

[Back to the ring. "Firestarter" by Prodigy is already playing, and Kevin the Pyromaniac is standing in the ring playing with a lighter in the corner.]

NH: The following is a match that will no doubt be filled with matches. Introducing first, already in the ring, Kevin the Pyromaniac!

SW: Dead meat. Dead, barbecued, meat.

["Under The Knife" by AC/DC plays.]

NH: And his opponent. From Tijuana, Mexico, this is Dr. Thrilla!

MM: Dr. Thrilla's been on a roll as of late.

SW: Yeah, no malpractice suits in two weeks!

MM: And we're ready to get this one underway. Oh my, what a vicious clothesline. And there's the Tricked Out Torso. Kevin is down and out. One. Two. Three. This one is all over.

SW: Man, I hope the fans didn't come expecting to see wrestling from a wrestling company. Because...that'd just be silly.

MM: Especially when you are one of the wrestlers.

SW: No kidding.

NH: Here is your winner...Dr. Thrilla!

DT: *Celebratory metal clanging*

SW: Alright, enough wrestling. Give me more BigBOSS segments! I can't get enough of them!

[Backstage, there is yelling and screaming. The camera is zigging and zagging wildly, making my head hurt. Stop that!]

BigB: Kick him. Now kick HIM. Oh, don't forget to kick him.

Lock: We're kicking him.

BigB: Well...kick him harder.

Shock: Sure thing, BOSS.

MM: What is going on backstage. Who are Lock, Shock and Barry beating up?

SW: I can't see. Please be Kay Fabe or Insano Mano.

MM: I doubt it's Insano Mano. BigBOSS wouldn't dare put our main event in jeopardy.

SW: Every show that he's in charge of is already in jeopardy, Monroe. Oh, look!

[A bloodied Crotch Hall and Kevin Ass are pulled up in handcuffs.]

BigB: You want to hurt my employees? Nobody hurts my employees but ME! You want to cost me a lucrative deal with Comedy Central. Oh, it's time to pay.

[Lock, Shock and Barry drag them down a hallway into a ballroom that has been set up to look like a courtroom. Hall and Ass are shoved down into chairs behind a table.]

John "Skeeter" Skeet: All rise! Sin City night court is now in session. The honorable Million Dollar Entity, Death, presiding.

[Death enters and takes a seat at the judge's spot.]

Death: Do you know why you boys are here?

Crotch: ...

Death: Yo, chico? You know why you boys are here?

Crotch: ...

Death: *Sigh* It's very old. Don't you dare do it.

Crotch: ... ... ... Hey--

[Death leaps over the judge's bench and kills Crotch Hall. Death returns to his judge's seat.]

Ass: You can't do that! You're not Judge Judy!

Death: Why not? This cloak looks nice enough to pass off as a judge's gown. Hey, wanna know a secret? I'm not wearing pants.

Ass: Oh yeah?

Death: What are you, gay? Anyway. You both have been charged with having a shitty, sWo-ish gimmick. In addition to that, your are charged with being unable to wrestle your way out of a paper bag. Now, seeing as how you are no doubt GUILTY of being far beyond suck, I hearby sentence you to spend the remainder of your years inside this giant paper bag. And thrown off a cliff.

Ass: What?!

Death: Don't worry, my son. If you are truly not a sucky wrestler, you will die a good Christian death. But if you are a sucky wrestler, you will die horribly. Now, really, there doesn't seem to be any difference because you're gonna die either way here. Do you have any last requests?

Ass: Yeah! I'd like to see "Clothes Off" by Gym Class Heroes because Gym Class Heroes totally RULES! Woohoo!

Death: I don't have a frickin' clue who the Gym Class Heroes are. I need to throw you off a few cliffs for that one.

[Death bangs the gavel. Back to ringside.]

SW: It's about time those losers got beaten for their shitty gimmick.

MM: If you can even call what they were doing a gimmick. They were just pretending to be a couple of over-the-hill has-beens. Well fans, we are now waiting on BigBOSS to come out here and confront the mastermind of the STWF attacks, Axl Van Halen.

["Taking Care of Business" plays. BigBOSS struts out with Lock, Shock and Barry. Lock, Shock and Barry are all carrying the Medium-Sized Bucket®, not that it would need more than one person to carry it.]

MM: It's the most revered bucket in the history of sports entertainment. The Medium-Sized Bucket®! And that bucket will be busy soon, as I understand "A Chance Would Be A Fine Thing II is on the way.

SW: Oh, great, another all-random show. Just what the world has been waiting for.

MM: I can't wait to see who BigBOSS is going to draw for Team BOB tonight to face off with Axl Van Halen. Though it does seem as if the odds have been stacked against Axl Van Halen.

Fans: Thank you BigBOSS! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap*. Thank you BigBOSS! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap*. Thank you BigBOSS! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap*.

MM: The fans showing their appreciation of BigBOSS killing off those two guys, Hall and Ass.

SW: Yeah, they can haul ass to hell for all I care. Along with Mr. Leary, BigBOSS, Michelle, and every other jerk-off in the office. Yeah, that's right, screw ALL you sons of bitches and bitches of sons!

MM: Bitches of sons?

SW: I'm angry! Leave me alone! It's almost time for me to face Logonoa.

["Young, Dumb and Rich, Bitch" by GwarTellica plays. Huge heat for Axl Van Halen as he steps out and waves to the crowd and pumps his fist. He runs down the aisle and slides into the ring and humps the ring a few times before standing up.]

AVH: Well, if it isn't BigLOTS. I love your stores, man.

BigB: Excuse me?

AVH: I get crappy stuff cheap there all the time. So I guess I shouldn't be surprised by your cheap tactics in BOB as well. Oh, how clever, taking out my boys, Crotch Hall and Kevin Ass. So now the Metal God has to take on three of BOB's most mediocre. Well I say bring them on. There's nothing I like more than getting in on with three other men!

Fans: Death to the Diq! Death to the Diq! Death to the Diq!

SW: What the hell is that chant all about?

MM: No clue...

AVH: The Diq is just an Internet rumor, you schmucks! It doesn't really exist.

Fans: You're getting fired! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* You're getting fired! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* You're getting fired! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap*

AVH: I am? Oh, come on, BigBOSS! I can work harder! Please don't fire me!

BigB: I'm not firing you until you stop making me money or you're seriously injured, since you're in my injury pool.

SW: Damn!

BigB: To that end, let's see who you're opponents are going to be tonight.

[Axl looks in the bucket.]

BigB: And please keep your hands off my balls.

Crowd: Ohhhhhh!

[BigBOSS pulls out a plastic ball from the bucket.]

AVH: Keep your hand of my microphone.

[Axl dangles his microphone at crotch level, making the crowd yell all sorts of vulgarities at him.]

BigB: *Ahem* The first member of Team BigBOSS will be....Massive Man Rendition First!

SW: Wow...I just didn't see that one coming at all. What a total shocking swerve.


["Regeneration X" by Mark Rushton (Random Screaming BOB Catchphrase Remix) plays. Massive Man walks out all pumped out and gets some loud shrieks from the horny women in the Ballroom. As Massive Man walks down the aisle, he sees a woman holding a sign that reads "Drunk & Easy" with an arrow pointing down. MMR1 pauses for several seconds looking her up and down.]

BigB: Umm, Massive Man? There'll be plenty of time for that later.

SW: Man, all those pre-pubescent teens that used to love the Kent State, know...have turned into some skanky legal-age whores. I can't believe we can't say the name of that old stable. How did Brandon get the rights?

MM: Poker game.

SW: I hope it wasn't strip poker.....Why did Axl just smile at me?

BigB: The second member of Team BigBOSS will be...


BigB: What?

AVH: Well, you may think you've got a full house...but guess what. I've got Yahtzee!

BigB: That's a totally different game.

AVH: The point is...I DO have some tag team partners. And I'd like to introduce them all. Come on up here...Jonny Leppard! Jimmy Whitesnake! And Joey Dio!

SW: Those were dudes? Monroe, I seriously need a copy of Penthouse, stat!

MM: Why?

SW: Never mind, why, just find me a Penthouse.

MM: Here you go.

SW: You really have one? Oh, somebody up there likes me. Actually. I should head to the back anyway and rub a quick one off before I get my arm broken. You be alright out here by yourself?

MM: Yeah, I guess.

SW: Cool. It's been nice working with you. And I mean that Mikey. I know we've had our differences, but I just want you to know how much fun I've had. And I'm glad to call you...friend.

MM: Wow. Thanks. You too.

SW: Alright, buddy. Call the match of your life later.

MM: I will.

*Sound of headset crashing*

BigB: Anyway...where are you going, Scotty? Who is going to call play-by-play? What do you mean that's not your problem? I'm a WHAT? Oh, you better pray you lose that match tonight. Hold on. I need to stop this match drawing for a second. Mr. Leary? Get out here and do color commentary with Mike Monroe.

["Bow Down" by Westside Connection plays. Mr. Leary jogs down the aisle.]

BigB: Now, can we please get on with this drawing. Member number two of my team..."Totally Packaged" Jim!

["Regeneration X" by Mark Rushton (Random Screaming BOB Catchphrase Remix) plays. Jim walks out all pumped out and gets some loud shrieks from the horny women in the Ballroom. As Jim walks down the aisle, he sees a woman holding a sign that reads "Drunk & Into 3 Ways With Guys From Kent" with an arrow pointing down. Jim pauses for several seconds looking her up and down.]

BigB: Umm, Jim? There'll be plenty of time for that later.

Mr. Leary: Hey, Monroe. How's it going?

MM: Great.

ML: Glad to hear it. This is quite the team here, Regeneration-X.

MMR1: Sinners and saints, angels and devils of all dimensions, Regeneration-X proudly brings to you, it's former Brawlers On a Budget ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERRRRRRS....and another guy whose held a bunch of titles TOOOOOOOOOO. THE "Totally Packaged" Jim. THE Massive Man Rendition First. Regeneration-X!

[He hands the mic to Jim.]

Jim: And just remember....(he holds the microphone up in the air)

Crowd: We're back and we're still better than y'all!

ML: I'm sorry. I can't do this.

MM: What? What do you mean?

ML: How am I supposed to read these Scotty lines? Plus, I've got to go feed Logonoa.

MM: Oh, come on.

ML: I'm going to go find somebody else. Hold on.

*Sound of headset crashing*

BigB: And the final member where are YOU going? Can't somebody else feed him? Fine! Is there anybody else in the back who can come out here and work with Monroe? I'm trying to randomly draw my third team member here. Anybody?


["The Mark" by Black Light Burns plays.]

MM: Who is this? I don't know this music.

[A teenager wearing blue tights and a T-shirt runs down the aisle.]

Crowd: Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck are you?

BigB: Ladies and doing color commentary, the Mark-Out Kid!

Crowd: Who?

BigB: The Mark-Out Kid?

Crowd: Who?

BigB: He was on Classix once.

Crowd: Really?

BigB: Can we please move on? Thank you.

Mark-Out Kid: OMG! I can't believerz I'm really here! This is SOOO kewl!

MM: Hi there, Kid.

MOK: You can call me Mark! LOLZ!

MM: What was that?

MOK: Nothing. Sorry, I'll calm down. Holy crap, Scotty Whatbody actually sat in this chair! I can still feel his ass sweat! LOLZ!

MM: *Sigh*


BigB: Thank you. Alright. And finally...introducing the third member of my team.

["Smooth Operator" by Sade starts playing.]

AVH: What the hell is this? I knew this thing was rigged! You didn't even pull out his name yet.


[The crowd cheers.]


MM: Will you please read this script? That's all we need you to do. Don't improvise or ad lib.

MOK: This is so kewl! Mike Monroe is telling me how to IMPROVE! This rules!

MM: Will you sit down and stop jumping around? Why are you even here tonight? We haven't seen you in three years.

MOK: Oh, man, it was so friggin' awesome. I got to work a match against...are you ready for this? Are you? FREAKIN' BILLY KIDMAN!

MM: Billy Kidman? Why is he working a dark match for BOB?

MOK: Because BigBOSS thinks he totally SUXORZ dude. But still! Billy KIDMAN! Are you KIDMAN me? Hahahahaha!

MM: Well, onto important matters. SMP is nowhere to be seen. I can't believe SMP wouldn't show up to this match.

MOK: Oh man, these guys totally don't like each other. I bet SMP no-showed!

MM: SMP wouldn't forfeit a paycheck.

MOK: SMP totally thinks Axl isn't like, even in his league. I hear there's legit heat between the two and SMP has demanded a "No Jobbing To Axl" clause be inserted into his contract.

MM: Those haven't worked out too well for SMP in the past.

AVH: Great job, BigLOTS. Seems like you can't even scrape together three people who aren't afraid to face me. Well...since that's the way things work around here, I have an announcement. If SMP isn't wrestling, then Axl Van Halen is not wrestling tonight either!

BigB: Excuse me?

AVH: You heard me, old man! Jonny! Jimmy! Joey! Go, GaYY, go!

[BigBOSS gets out of the ring as GaYY attacks Regeneration-X.]

MM: I don't believe this cowardice on Axl Van Halen's part.

MOK: I know, eh! What a hoser.

MM: You just remembered you're Canadian?

MOK: Gotta get into character, dude.

MM: Right.

MOK: I'm pooping my color commentary cheery.

MM: Pooping? What? Will you PLEASE just read from your script?

MOK: OK. Umm....oh WOW, what a stiff shot that one was.

MM: Read the script!

MOK: Sorry, man, eh? Jim totally just tossed Leppard into the steel post.

MM: Hey, don't read my lines.

MOK: Oh, sorry. I saw the M and thought it was for me.

MM: Read the SW lines.

MOK: Right, sorry.

MM: Whitesnake just slammed Massive Man hard.

MOK: Speaking of HARD, I just looked at Heidi. WOOHOO~!!~~!!

MM: And Massive Man is busted wide open.

MOK: From A slam? Talk about gratuitous...balding?

MM: Balding?

MOK: Oh, sorry, BLADING. My bad. Sorry, Mike.

MM: *Sigh* Joey with a flapjack on Massive Man. But Massive Man fighting back and hits an enzugeri on Dio.

MOK: I hear Dio LOVES to get hit on. By MEN! By men.

MM: You did learn to read when you were in school?

MOK: Let me get on my feet, eh?

MM: Look out. Suicide dive to the floor by Massive Man takes Dio down. Meanwhile, Whitesnake and Jim are going at it in the ring.

Crowd: RX! RX! RX! RX!

MM: And here comes Leppard to make it two on one.

MOK: They're gonna make Jim the meat in their GaYY sandwich. BWAHAHAHA! That's FUNNY! How does Scotty come up with these?

MM: He's a comedic genius...And Jim eats a big boot from Leppard.

MOK: He better *SNORT* BWAHAHAHAHA! OMG this is so FUNNY! Sorry....sorry...he better...*SNORT* BWAHAHAHA. Hahahaha. Hopethat'stheonlythinghe'sforcedto *SNORT* BWAHAHAHA! EAT! By Leppard! *SNORT*

MM: BigBOSS? Can we PLEASE get a replacement? Find ANYBODY. Please. The action is too fast to keep track of, especially with all these distractions. Sorry, fans.

MOK: I hear Jonny loves pouring sugar all over his buddies in GaYY.

MM: Scotty, stop it. I mean, Mark-Out Kid, stop it. Great, now you're making me mess up.

MOK: Sorry aboot that.

MM: Leppard with a rocket launcher on Jim.

[Suddenly, we are outside the Riviera.]

MM: What's this?

[Lock, Shock and Barry are dragging out Kevin Ass, still in his giant paper bag.]

MOK: OMG! I hope we get to see Ass getting shoved off a cliff! That would be wicked!

MM: There is a match going on here. Can we please come back to the Ballroom?

[The camera returns to the ballroom.]

MOK: I'd just like to say that it was a GENIUS move by BigBOSS promoting his daughter to the head of the gooking committee. Michelle equals DUD sales.

MM: DVD sales.

MOK: Oh, duh. Stupid me. Did I say gooking?

MM: Heidi? Will you please save me? I need somebody who can call a match.

NH: BigBOSS makes the rules, not me.

MM: Dio with a slam on Jim. Massive Man grabs Whitesnake and tosses him out of the ring.

MOK: There he goes again.

MM: Jim just went under the ring. What's he got? What's in that black sack?

MOK: Axl's praying for gerbils. BWAHAHAHA! Oh no I did NOT just say that!

MM: It's broken pieces of compact discs. Those are pretty sharp. Is this a No DQ match?

MOK: I hop so. I want to see these guys bleeding from some part other than their ASSBWAHAHAHAHA! Best. Episode. EVER!

MM: Jim is slicing Dio wide open. This is brutal. Now Jim cutting up Dio's arms. He's gonna have some scars after this match, Kid. Massive Man's got a chair.


MM: Oh my. He damn near just took Leppard's head off.

Crowd: Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!

MM: Regeneration-X is dominating now. They're stomping away on Dio, who is a bloody mess. Jim and Massive Man have Leppard up. Double powerslam. What a move. Axl's looking a little worried here at ringside.

MOK: I hope he's got tested for the HIV.

MM: Mark-Out Kid...I'm surprised that you would even stoop that low.

MOK: Scotty! It isn't me.

MM: Next thing you'll be making more racist jokes about douja.

MOK: Me? I LOVERZ douja! He's the man!

MM: Sure, Kid, sure. Leppard trying to fight back, but Regeneration-X has taken control in this one.

MOK: Is Whitesnake taking a nap at ringside. He's as still as the night.

MM: It looks like Whitesnake's waking up. This could put the odds back in GaYY's favor. He's going under the ring.

MOK: He's got an anal wand!

MM: Oh no. That's got to be at least 10 inches long. Whitesnake may be looking for his finishing maneuver, the Slide It In.

MOK: I think I'm going to vomit. *Cough*

MM: Oh, Massive Man gets hit in the face with the anal wand!

MOK: I hope that thing has never been used before, or Massive Man will have to visit the free clinic after the show. Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!

MM: Face jam on Jim. He's telling Dio to head up top. Here it comes, the Holy Diver. One. Two. Jim kicked out.


MM: Oh, Massive Man just blasted Whitesnake in the face with that chair.


MM: And there's one for Dio. Jim's dumping out the hundreds of broken jagged pieces of compact discs. They've got Dio. Leap of Fate drives Dio face first into the broken CDs.


MM: They shove him out of the way. Jim's got Whitesnake. Krew Kutter into the CDs!

MOK: Damn damn DAMN!

MM: And Massive Man's got Jonny Leppard now. Sideways Effect into the CDs.

MOK: *Gasp*

MM: Cover. One. Two. Three.

[Big pop.]

AVH: Nooo!

NH: Here are the winners, Regeneration-X!

MM: What a dominant performance by RX tonight at Mano e Zeno.

MOK: Knowing GaYY, they probably like a little 8&M.

MM: That's not an 8.

MOK: It isn't? What is it?

MM: An S.

MOK: S&M? Ohhhh.....right! BWAHAHAHA. That makes much more sense! Must've been a typo.

AVH: No! No! No! Noooooooo! What is wrong with you idiots? Stop cheering this crap! I've been screwed over once again by the powers that be here in BOB.

MMR1: Dude, your butt buddies suck.

[The crowd cheers.]

AVH: Where's your hero, SMP? Huh? He's was too chicken to deal with this slab of man steak. He has finally proven to everyone that he is nothing but a pus--

["Smooth Operator" by Sade hits. The crowd erupts in cheers as SMP power walks down the aisle carrying a tombstone.]

MM: Axl is trying to bolt through the crowd, but the front row fans won't let him through. Whoa. Axl just leapt over the fans. He really wants to get away from SMP.

MOK: I figured he'd want to run toward SMP!

MM: SMP's in the ring. Oh no. He just smashed that tombstone over Whitesnake's already bloody head.

[The tombstone crumbles into dust.]

MOK: A prop? Awww...I was hoping it was a real tombstone.

MM: SMP's got Dio. Nipple Cutter. There's a Nipple Cutter for Leppard, who is also a bloody mess now. Oh no. Nipplecutter on Massive Man. Jim charges but SMP catches him with a Nipple Cutter.

[SMP looks around, but Axl is long gone. SMP starts to leave the ring.]

Crowd: Five more times! Five more times! Five more times!

MM: SMP is pausing.

MOK: What wired fans. Last month they hated SMP. Now...they love him, eh? Gotta remind everyone I'm still Canadian. Go Canadians! wOOt! Want a Molson, eh?

MM: No thanks. You really shouldn't be drinking on the job. You can barely read as it is. SMP's back in the ring. He grabs Dio. Scalpel's Edge. And now Whitesnake is about to suffer the same fate. And these fans are loving it. SMP's got Leppard now. Another Scalpel's Edge. But he's not done yet. He's got Massive Man up. Another Scalpel's Edge. Only one man left to go.

MOK: OMG! I can't believe we saw BOTH of SMP's finishers! He totally NEVER uses them both most times anymore. I am so lucky to be here tonight. What an awesome show! SMP rules the world!

MM: It looks like SMP is finally done with the self-glorification.

Fans: Five more times! Five more times! Five more times!

MM: Or is he. SMP is hesitating. What's left for him to do all these men? He's pulling up Dio by the hair. He's dead weight at this point. He's got the arms locked.

MOK: YEAH! He's gonna do it! AWESOME! Freakin' AWESOME!

MM: The Med Degree.

MOK: LOLZ! I hope SMP doesn't get pissed that he's using that move in a match this time!

MM: What?

MOK: You know. It was all over the Internet.

MM: How could he get mad if HE performed the move?

MOK: I dunno. Like, he was forced to use it, eh?

MM: Med Degree on Whitesnake.

MOK: RUAHH~! I cannot believe he's doing this.

MM: He promised to bring hell with him. And Leppard gets the Med Degree.

MOK: He does that way better than Triple H. And definitely better than Trey Vincent's stupid version.

MM: SMP's looking a little exhausted from all this offense. Does he have enough left? He's dragging up Jim next. Another Med Degree connects. Would you look at this. Massive Man is trying to pull himself up. But SMP sees him and is letting him get to his own feet.

MOK: Are they detachable, eh?

MM: Oh, you know what I mean. Med Degree on Massive Man Rendition First.

["Smooth Operator" begins playing again as SMP receives a standing ovation from the Sin City crowd.]

MM: The Diritiest Boobie Enhancer In Sports Entertainment today has sent a message to the entire roster here in BOB.

MOK: Well, at least two members and three jobbers.

Nikki Mantle

[Backstage, Styles was with Anne O'Rexic and her bodyguard, Nikki Mantle.]

Styles: Tonight, Anne--

AO: That's right, Styles. Tonight, indeed.

Styles: Pardon?

AO: Tonight is a night that many BOB fans are going to remember for a long time. Because tonight, I am going to shock the wrestling world.

Styles: You mean, by winning the T&A XX Division Title?

AO: No.

[Anne walks away. Nikki glares at Styles for a couple of seconds before following Anne.]

Styles: What on earth?

[Back to ringside. "Annie's Anorexic" by Huntingtons is playing.]

Nikki Mantle

NH: The following is for the T&A XX Division title. Introducing first, the challenger. Being accompanied to the ring by Nikki Mantle. This is Anne O'Rexic.

MOK: How can somebody who doesn't even have a bio page yet be challenging for the women's title?

MM: I don't know how things work around here yet.

MOK: I wonder how much she weighs.

MM: Who knows. Probably, what, 80, 90 pounds?

MOK: Yeah right, when she's wearing concrete shoes. Look at that bag of antlers, eh?

NH: And her opponent...

["Toxic" by Britney Spears plays.]

NH: The reigning and defending BOB T&A XX Division Champion, Queen Mylisiv!

MOT: She's almost as hot as Mystique in the "X-Men."

MM: You do realize the "X-Men" is fictional, right?

MOT: And Queen Mylisiv isn't?

MM: Hold on, Anne's got the microphone.

AO: This match not going to happen.

Crowd: Boooo!

AO: It is not because I'm afraid of you, Queen Mylisiv, because I have no doubt that I would easily be able to defeat you, yet again.

MM: She's beaten Queen Mylisiv? When was this?

AO: The reason is, because I had to go to the doctor yesterday, because I've been feeling a little nauseous lately.

MOK: Doesn't her finishing movie involve pucking on her opponent? Feeling no..zeeus? Is new for this grill?

MM: Seriously, stop drinking that beer.

MOK: Keep your hands off my beer, fiddlefart.

MM: Fiddlefart?

MOK: Excuse me, would you mind fucking your mother, if it's not too much trouble? Thanks.

AO: And...well...I can't wrestle tonight, or, well, anytime for the next nine months or so. Because...I'm pregnant.

MOK: Lord thundering Jesus!

[Nikki hugs Anne, and Anne almost vanishes in the hug.]

Crowd: Who's the daddy? *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* Who's the daddy? *Clap, clap, clapclapclap*

AO: There's more, Queen. And this is the part that affects you. You see...the father is...well....Sir Zeno!

[Huge pop.]

MM: Dear God. This is going to get very ugly in a hurry.

[A bell sound effect rings. Huge pop as the girls charge toward each other and start ripping and clawing at each other.]

MM: Mylisiv charges at O'Rexic. We've got a...


[Sir Zeno runs into the ring as Nikki pulls Queen Mylisiv off of Anne O'Rexic. Nikki tosses Mylisiv toward a corner of the ring. Zeno holds her back as Nikki and Zeno go face to face.]

MM: Zeno looks ready to knock out both Nikki Mantle and Anne O'Rexic. The fans don't know what to make of this. Oh no. He's got Nikki by the throat.

MOK: Hey, look! He's doing a Chris Benoit impersonation! *Hic*

MM: Are you drunk?

MOK: Piss off stupid guy. *Belch*

MM: Insano Mano is here. Springboard dropkick takes down Zeno. These two are going to be in the main event tonight, but apparently they couldn't wait.

MOK: I hope Mano at last gets a BJ or an orgy for saving them from a beating. *Hic*

MM: Oh no, Zeno just turned Mano inside-out with that clothesline. Zeno's out on the floor. He's got a chair. Oh no.


MM: Zeno is unleashing all his anger on Insano Mano.

MOK: He ain't bein' too nice to the chair, either!

MM: That chair is bent to hell, and Mano is not moving. The crowd is giving Zeno a standing ovation. What sick fans. He has just nearly beaten Insano Mano to death.

MOK: Mano knew the risks.

MM: He was trying to do the right thing.

MOK: But she's preggers, and that other chick's a lesbian, which is AWESOME, by the way. But WTF was he gonna get from saving anybody from anything? *Belch* Beat up, that's what.

MM: And look at this. Mylisiv is staring a hole through Sir Zeno. There is a lot more to this story fans. Did Sir Zeno really get Anne O'Rexic pregnant? But more importantly for tonight, will Insano Mano be able to compete later in the main event for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS?

[In BigBOSSes suite, douja was laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. There is the sound of a toilet flushing. BigBOSS walks to his desk.]

BigB: Sorry about that, douja. So, are you ready to get the keys to the Chevy Aveo?

douja: yo what da fuck did you eat? it smells like somethin died in here..

BigB: Yes...well. Anyway. Here are the keys, douja. It's parked behind the hotel.

douja: yo what da fuck is dis shit?

BigB: Those are the keys. You use them to open the doors.

douja: no you stupid ass cracka.. what da fuck is this thing?

BigB: Oh, right. Forgot to mention. It's a rental.

douja: a rental? da fuck?

BigB: What? You thought I was actually going to give away a $16,000 car? That's a good one! Ahahahaha. Very funny. Have it back by 3 p.m. tomorrow afternoon at Enterprise or you're fired, underling. Be gone.

[douja stumbles out of the room.]

douja: shit I don’t even have a license.. hope that bitch is insured.

[Back to the ring. "Rising Sun" by Bexta is playing.]

MM: Kay Fabe is on her way to the ring.

MOK: Do you KNOW how many times I've jerked off to her? OMG~! She is soooo HOT!

MM: Way more information than I need to know, buddy.

MOK: Hey, you think I have a shot?

MM: I doubt it. You're no Seth Harker.

MOK: Maybe I could tell her that, I'm, like, Seth's cousin or something, so it'd almost be like doing it with him.

MM: They're still a couple, Kid.

MOK: They are? But Seth Harker doesn't work here anymore, right?

MM: Right. But they don't have to work together to go out.

MOK: Really? Ohhhh. Huh? *Hic*

KF: You hear that music, BigBOSS? I sure do. It's my boyfriend's. You know, the one you FIRED for being injured. Well let me tell you something, BigBOSS. You can't go around, treating wrestlers like they're just a W2 form. Seth is a living, breathing person who is so cool that he has to turn the thermostat up every night when he comes home from wherever he goes just so I'm not cold.

MOK: Seth has a circulation problem?

MM: No, you goof. He's just super cool.


KF: I'm am the biggest, baddest wiccan in this place. And I've tried not to get angry. But when you restart BOB, and you don't return messages from my boyfriend, it tends to piss me off. Seth could wrestle anywhere in the world he wants. But he wants to be near me.

MOK: I LOVE YOU KAY! WOOOOOOO! Show your tits!

MM: Calm down.

KF: There are things I could be doing to make BOB into an even bigger disaster, but I haven't so far. So, unless either you or that bitch of a daughter comes out here right now and promises to make things right, we're gonna have a problem. And Michelle. Daddy's Little Idiot. C'mon, Michelle. You think this show has been entertaining? It's trainwreck after trainwreck. Trey Vincent could book circles around you, honey, even IN his coma.

Crowd: Ohhhhhh!

["My Michelle" by Guns N Roses hits. Michelle walks out, looking mighty angry, but getting nowhere near the ring.]

Michelle: How dare you! You dare insult me and my BigDADDY? Look, just because you're sexually frustrated is not our concern.

KF: Sexually frustrated? Listen here, Missy, Seth Harker has done things to me in the bedroom that break several known laws of physics.

Michelle: OK, eww. But face it, Kay. You just don't have anybody to focus on. Because last time I checked, my sister also isn't around.

KF: Your sister? Sarah?

Michelle: That's right. Everybody knows you had the hots for her, and that's what this is REALLY about. But she was always to busy with MEN. And it so badly messed with you that it drove you to the PENIS.

KF: Hey! Hey! Lesbianism is a choice. It's not my fault that my soulmate is trapped in the body of an icky man. But Seth is the least icky man there is on this planet.

Michelle: I know you, Kay. And I know what you really want.

[Michelle begins unbuttoning her suit top.]

Michelle: You want a couple of these, don't you?

KF: Please.

Michelle: What's the matter, Kay. Don't you want to do me, Kay? C'mon, you big lesbo! You want my boobies! I know you do. You can't take your eyes off them. You're mesmerized by my juggies!

[Pigeon slides in the ring, grabs Kay and hits the Pigeon Drop on her! The crowd is in shocked silence before the boos start. Pigeon kneels in front of Kay, who is face down on the mat, then spreads his arms wide and flaps them.]

MM: What a sick human being. He just DDTed a defenseless woman.

Pigeon: What about me now, Michelle? What. About. PIGEON! I have just defended your honor and driven this lesbian bitch's face into the canvas. Now, Michelle, am I worthy of your love?


Michelle: You know what? You have impressed me here tonight.

[Michelle walks down the aisle and climbs into the ring.]

Michelle: So I'm going to give you a reward. I'm going to let you kiss me.

[Pigeon smiles widely.]

Pigeon: Yes! Finally!

Michelle: That's right.

[Michelle takes off her right shoe and holds it up for Pigeon.]

Michelle: You may kiss my foot.

MM: Oh lord. She just loves tormenting this poor guy.

MKO: She's got to know for sure that he really loves her and isn't just after her money. She'll inherit BOB whenever BigBOSS kicks it.

MM: You seriously think BOB will still be around by that time?

MKO: You never know.

MM: I hope not.

MKO: Maybe Michelle has BigBOSS in her injury pool.

[Pigeon lays a kiss on Michelle's foot as the crowd boos. Michelle smiles at humiliating Pigeon once again. Suddenly, she yanks her foot away.]

Michelle: PIgeon! She's moving again! Do it again! No, don't kiss my foot again. DDT her again!

MM: Oh, come on. This is sick.

[Pigeon drags Kay Fabe up and Pigeon Drop's her a second time.]

MM: What kind of man is Pigeon?

MOK: A very horny one. Cheers.

[In a hallway of the hotel, douja was trying to find his way out to the back parking lot when he ran into Misty Waters.]

douja: what up girl?

MW: Hey, douja. I was just wondering. I saw you won that Chevy Aveo earlier tonight. I was wondering if you might be interested in a trade.

douja: trade?

MW: Yeah. I was wondering if you might want to trade the Chevy Aveo for...a hummer.

[She licks her key card up and down slowly.]

MW: My room's right down the hall.

douja: ... damn girl!

[Back to ringside. "Whatta Man" by En Vogue is playing.]

NH: The following is a Scotty Whatbody Leaves BOB match. Introducing first. From the EZ-Break Announce Desk. This is Scotty Whatbody.

MM: Well, it's been a long, surreal trip for me and Scotty. And I'll miss the guy when he's gone.

MOK: I can't wait to work with you EVERY WEEK, buuuuuuuddy! He's an American. And he's a Canadian. We're totally like the "Odd Couple."

MM: You get that work visa yet?

MOK: comment?

MM: BigBOSS is still smuggling you over the Canadian border? Oh brother.

MOK: I'm cheap Canadian labor. Have I mentioned lately how much BigBOSS rox! He's totally saving me from that evil socialized medicine.

NH: And his opponent. From the Aisle of Food. Accompanied to the ring by Mr. Leary, this is Logonoa!

MM: I'm almost afraid to watch this, but I can't look away.

MOK: Lo is gonna kill you! Lo is gonna kill you!

MM: This one is set to get underway.

SW: If I may for just a minute. Heidi. I know you think I'm a total sexist pig and all, and we've had plenty of arguments and you've slapped me more times than I can count. But I just want you to know that even though I said a lot of mean and demeaning things about you, it came from a place of love and respect. Being with you made getting through the pain of BOB's shows a whole lot easier. I will treasure the memory of our times together...always. And I just wanted to let you know that before I'm gone forever and you forget all about me.

NH: (Rolling eyes) Right, Scotty.

SW: I'm serious. And you can tell I'm serious because I'm not trying to cop any feels off of you for one last time. Alright, let's do this thing.

MM: Here we go. Scotty's getting all nostalgic and nice. It's freaking me out a bit. He must think he's going to die or something.

MOK: Maybe he'll suffocate in Logonoa's moobs.

MM: His moobs?

MOK: Man boobs.

MM: I guess that could happen. Oh what a kick by Logonoa. And Scotty quickly rolls out of the ring, holding onto his left thigh. Logonoa has some lethal kicks. Oh, and look at this. Mr. Leary rewards Logonoa with a fish.

Crowd: Scotty! Scotty! Scotty!

MM: And Scotty slides back into the ring. Kid, are you OK?

MOK: I think I'm gonna hurl.

*Sound of headset being dropped*

MM: And, again, I am alone out here. Well. As Mark-Out Kid tries to make it to the nearest toilet.

MOK: (Off-camera) Huuuuuuuuahhhhhh!

MM: Didn't quite make it. Scotty's back in, but Logonoa lands a punch and knocks Scotty loopy. Low blow by Scotty Whatbody. And what is this? Scotty Whatbody with a headlock?

Crowd: Scotty! Scotty! Scotty!

SW: Ask the fat fuck if he gives up!

MM: Oh no. Logonoa just dropped Scotty on his head in a nasty belly to back suplex. That should be it for Scotty. Hold on. Randall Mooby just jumped into the ring. That's Scotty's protege. He charges at Logonoa with the spatula. And remember, this is no DQ. Hold on. Now Little Good and Alex Smith are in the ring. Alex Smith just blasted Logonoa in the face with that bullhorn. What is going on here. Now Little Good is winding up. Oh, what a knockout punch that was. Mooby's up top. It's the Quarter-Pounder Bomb. Smith drags Scotty on top of Logonoa. But here comes Leary. But Mooby's holding him off with the spatula. He got him?

NH: The winner of the match....Scotty Whatbody!

MM: There is a conspiracy at work here. What is the connection between Mooby, Smith, Little Good and Scotty Whatbody?

SW: I did it! Yes! Little help?

[Smith and Mooby pull Scotty up.]

SW: Well guess what, Mr. Leary. Looks like you lost, thanks to my crew. May I introduce to you...Alex Smith. Randall Mooby. Little Good. My new stable...Threedom!

AS: (Bullhorning) We want FREEDOM!

RM: We want PORN!

LG: I want some bloody cheap CIGARETTES and ALCOHOL!

SW: I'm going to take these boys to the top. And if I can't...well, I'll just leave them at the bottom, since they're already there. Goooooo THREEDOM! Oh, man! Look at the look on Monroe's face. Monroe, you moron! As if I give two shits about you! Heidi? I can't respect whores. And Leary? Shove your keyboard up your ass, pal. Because Scotty Whatbody isn't going anywhere. MWAHAHAHAHAHA! MWAHAHAHAHA. MWA*coughhackcough*. *Ahem*. Now help me get to the back. I can't feel my right leg.

[Backstage, Coma was walking down a hallway. Instead of his usual Ramone's T-shirt, he was sporting a shirt that read: Mr. Comady: POINK HARD!]

MM: Mr. Comady? Oh, hey, Styles.

Styles: Well it's certainly nice to be back out at the EZ-Break Announce Desk®. It's been too long. How about that Scotty Whatbody.

MM: I can't say I'm shocked. I wonder if Mr. Comady will have anything to say about Scotty Whatbody's behavior.

Styles: I highly doubt it. What Scotty really needs is a personality transplant.

Voice-Over: COMADY!

[A Ramones medley is played, and Coma walks down the aisle with his trademark distant look on his face. The lights dim in the ballroom and a microphone falls down from the ceiling and shatters into pieces.]

MM: BigBOSS isn't going to like that.

[Coma looks up to the ceiling, hoping for another microphone to fall down from the ceiling. He goes under the ring and pulls out a catcher's mitt and puts on a catcher's mask and then gets back in the ring. He returns to staring up at the ceiling off the ballroom. After several seconds, a second microphone falls down and Coma makes the grab. The fans give a mock cheer. As Coma steps up onto the second rope, suddenly there is a loud cracking noise and The Flunky falls down from the ceiling into the ring, along with several ceiling tiles.]

MM: Oh man, this segment is costing BigBOSS a lot of money for the time it was budgeted.

Styles: I'm sure it'll come straight out of Flunky's pay check. If he even gets one.

[The music dims as Coma closes his eyes and holds up the microphone to his mouth.]

Mr. Comady: Tickle my Elmo, Mr. Belvedere, zort! Hey Zim, never flush a tampon, schween! I'm drinking a strange brew of shaving cream, poink! The leftovers have been hermetically sealed, Sputnik, narf! Get off the train, the pandas have escaped, abugawugah! My apple-catchers are full of rutabagas, poit! NURFLLLLLLEEEEE POINKADEEEEE.




Crowd: Poinkadee!

Hallucination Boy: (Voiceover): TRAIN!

[Outside, douja hands Misty Waters the key to the rental car. She smiles at him, unlocks the car and gets inside. douja pulls out a blunt and lights it up. Misty tries to speed off, but being an Aveo, she just barely gets to the parking lot speed limit before she's out of frame.

douja: misty waters smoked my blunt, yo.. and by blunt i mean my big black cock.. just like nurse heidi, smp.

[douja blows smoke into the camera.]

[Back in the ring, the lights are still down, and the mess involving the Flunky is cleaned up, thanks to the magic of pausing the tape recorder. Three steel folding chairs are in the ring on one side of a partition, and Death is on the other side of the partition, standing behind a podium. A graphic comes on the screen for "Who Wants To Be A Corpse?"]

Death: Hello, and welcome to "Who Wants To Be A Corpse?" This is a very special game show in which three lucky contestants from the back will vie for the chance to win my Swiss Army Belt...or die trying. BWAHAHAHA. I will ask a series of questions of my three contestants. And the man who has lost the least amount of points will be the winner. Got it? Good! Let's bring out the contestants.

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

Death: Contestant number one hails from Dimension Z, whatever the hell that is. His hobbies include cutting depressed teenagers, kissing Sir Zeno's cornhole, and jobbing to Axl Van Halen. Everyone, give it up for Mr. Paradox!

[Mr. Paradox walks down the aisle, looking a bit puzzled, and pissed. He gets in the ring and goes around and takes a seat. Then "Regeneration X" by Mark Rushton plays.]

Death: Contestant number two hails from Kent, Ohio. His hobbies include making jokes about dead people, losing poker games and jobbing to me. BWAHAHAHAHA. Please welcome, Jim "Totally Packaged".

[Jim walks out all pumped out and gets more loud shrieks from the horny women in the Ballroom. As Jim walks down the aisle, he sees that same woman now holding a sign that reads "REALLY Drunk Now & Into 3 Ways With Guys From Kent" with an arrow pointing down. Jim pauses for several seconds looking her up and down before heading to the ring and taking his seat.]

Death: And our final contestant also hails from Kent, Ohio. His hobbies include being a really big MFer, breaking his toe and running for his life from a four-year-old boy. Please welcome, Massive Man Rendition First.

"Regeneration X" by Mark Rushton (Random Screaming BOB Catchphrase Remix) plays. Massive Man walks out all pumped out and gets some loud shrieks from the horny women in the Ballroom. As Massive Man walks down the aisle, he sees a woman holding a sign that reads "Just Did Ecstasy & Easy" with an arrow pointing down. MMR1 pauses for several seconds looking her up and down before going into the ring and taking his seat.]

Death: Alright now. Every time you get a correct answer, you will lose 86 points. The man with the highest score at the end of the game will get the chance to face me for the Swiss Army Belt. Alright. Let's start off with a man who has all the charisma of a magnum of chloroform, Mr. Paradox. Here we go. Question number one. Which of the following Dimension Z members has ALREADY jobbed to Insano Mano. Is it A. Sir Zeno. B. Queen Mylisiv. C. Dr. Thrilla. Or D. Mr. Paradox.

[Mr. Paradox pulls out his sword. Death picks up his scythe.]

Death: Hey, hey, no need for that. Sheesh. We already have a Mexican standoff and it's only the first question. C'mon, Paradox. I know YOU know the answer to this question. I'm sure you talk about it with your therapist all the time.

Mr. Paradox: (Snarling) D. Mr. Paradox.

Death: Final answer.

Mr. Paradox: (Snarling) Final answer!

Death: You are right for negative 86 points!

[The crowd applauds and hoots for Mr. Paradox.]

Death: Onto Jim. Here's your question. Which former member of Totally Face was defeated by a BOBster disguised as the Sasquatch? Was it, A. Violent Pacifist. B. Candy Cantaloupes. C. Jim. Or D. Da Sassy Bitch.

Jim: Oooh. This is a tough one dude.

Mr. Paradox: *Sigh* How stupid are you? Can't you see what Death is doing here? He's trying to embarrass all of us and make us look like idiots.

Death: Please, Paradox, no help, or I'll have to add points to your score.

MP: Add my sword through your eye socket while you're at it.

Death: BWAHAHAHA. Ah, Paradox, you scamp. Alright, Jim. Three seconds left.

Jim: Umm...umm...ummm...C!

Death: C? Final answer?

Jim: Final answer. I'm sure it was me.

Death: ... You're RIGHT! Congratulations. You just lost 86 points.

[The crowd applauds and hoots for Jim.]

Jim: Wooo! Yeah!

Death: OK. Onto you, Massive Man. Massive Man Rendition First drove to work in the afternoon at an average speed of 45 miles per hour. He returned home later that night along the same route and averaged 30 miles per hour. If Massive Man spent a total of one hour commuting to and from work, how many miles did Massive Man drive to work in the morning? Is it...A. 36. B. 18. C. Massive Man Rendition First. Or D. I Flunked Math At Kent State Dude, How Should I Know?

MMR1: That is a tough one. Do you have a sheet of paper I could borrow for a second?

Death: There's pen and paper under your chair. You have 10 seconds.

MMR1: Let's see...45 miles per hour....30 miles per hour....Rendition equals First divided by Massive...if m is r and m is 1, then....

[Massive Man begins writing feverishly.]

Death: 3...2...1...

[Massive Man turns the paper around to reveal that the only thing written on his paper is the letter C.]

MMR1: C!

Death: Final answer? Seriously?

MMR1: Final answer! Wait, what was the question again?

Death: Sorry. You are wrong.

[The crowd "aww's" for Massive Man.]

MMR1: Damnit!

Death: Add 86 to that boy's score. Mr. Paradox, back to you. Steve Studnuts—

Mr. Paradox: Argh! (He violently slashes at the partition.)

Death: Once gave you a clever nickname. Was it...A. Paracox-In-His-Mouth. B. Paracox-In-His-Ass. C. Parasox. D. Skanky-Assed, Sister-Humping, Panty-Licking, Dick-Sucking, Zit-Nibbling, Cunt-Faced Warthead.

[Paradox picks up his chair and throws it at the announce desk.]

Styles: Incoming! Oh my GOD! This game show is getting EXTREME!

Mr. Paradox: Let's face facts here, Death. I tossed you out of the battle royal earlier tonight. And I've already beaten you once for the Are You Out Of Your Frickin' Mind Hardcore Title. You put that title on the line against me next month, and I'll beat you again. I'm not afraid of you.


Death: Sorry. The answer we were looking for was A. A. That will add 86 points to your score. As a side-note, Jim is actually the one who called you a Skanky-Assed, Sister-Humping, Panty-Licking, Dick-Sucking, Zit-Nibbling, Cunt-Faced Warthead.

[Paradox wheels around and faces Jim with the sword.]

Jim: No way, dude. It was Massive Man.

MMR1: Dude! You swore you wouldn't tell.

Jim: I don't wanna be the next wrestler found dead. Sure, I'll be a pretty corpse, but a corpse is a corpse, dude.

MMR1: Paradox, sense your inner Joshitude, and chill. I was totally drunk when I said that.

Death: Next question.

Jim: No. You know what Death. I think we've had enough questions.

Death: Are you sure? You're in the lead?

Jim: Oh, I am? Then, fire away!

[MMR1 blocks a swipe from Paradox's sword with his chair.]

MMR1: Hey, stop that.

[Massive Man stomps on Paradox's toe. Paradox drops the sword, grabs his foot and begins hopping around. Jim sneaks his arm around the partition.]

Jim: Yoink!

Death: Hey! My gold scythe! Give that back!

[Death runs around the side of the partition. He is greeted by Jim with a scythe, Mr. Paradox, who has recovered his sword.]

Death: Oh, great. Everybody's got a weapon but Josh.

MMR1: I have the greatest power known to man. JOSHITUDE~!

[The lights flicker.]

Death: Oh. Screw this. I'm off to the Netherworld.

Jim: Get him.

[Paradox, Jim and Massive Man all charge at Death. There is a bright flash of light. Then, suddenly, the ring is empty aside from the props from the game show.]

Styles: Oh my god.

MM: Where did they all go?

Styles: I...I...I don't know. I've never seen anything like this before. Mr. Paradox, Jim, Death and Massive Man are...gone!

MM: You mean?

Styles: I think so.

MM: Oh no.

Crowd: WTFin' F! WTFin' F! WTFin' F!

[Backstage, Uber Vamp and Lord Athackkimentham.]

LA: Well...Death just vanished. You know what else has vanished. Tag team wrestling in BOB! HAIL SANTA! We're gonna be champs for eternity. Everyday is Christmas! Hail SANTA!

UVW: Hmm hmm hmm hmmm.

[Back to the ring. "Mexican Hat Dance" by Arriba Brothers is playing.]

MM: Well, it's main event time.

Styles: And the question everyone is still asking is...WTFin' F?

MM: It has been a surreal night again here in BOB.

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, this is the main event of Mano e Zeno, and is for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. INTRODUCING FIRST...whoops. *Ahem* Introducing first. From Suicida, Mexico. The challenger. This is Insano Mano!

[Mano finally stumbles his way out, getting booed mercilessly by the crowd.]

Styles: Mano's in rough shape. It looks like he's gone through an entire bottle of tequila.

MM: I think that's just from the attack from Zeno earlier tonight, Styles.

Styles: Oh, really? Because I could have sworn I saw him passed out on the floor in the hall next to an empty bottle of tequila just before I came out here.

MM: As long as he wasn't next to a bottle of steroids, that's fine, because alcohol is legal, and Insano Mano is of legal drinking age.

Styles: Just don't check his passport.

MM: Right. Well, Mano must know this is his only shot at the OWTTM. But Sir Zeno has been the champion since Living In Sin. And he has been a dominant champion so far.

Styles: I wonder if Sir Zeno has an interdimensional passport.

["Narayan" by Prodigy hit, and the crowd, as usual, popped huge for Sir Zeno.]

NH: And his opponent. The reigning and defending BOB ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. Hailing from Dimension-Z, this is Sir Zeno!

MM: What a reception for the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS.

Styles: He better not be too overconfident. Mano has scored a few upsets in time, pinning such BOBsters as Mr. Paradox, Kamikazie Ken and Pete Trable.

MM: In all fairness, most of the roster has pinned Trable. But no doubt, Mano had some incredible wars against Kamikazie Ken.

Styles: They exemplified hardcore wrestling, Mike.

MM: So, a possibly drunk and injured Insano Mano is ready to hook up with Sir Zeno. Why don't I suddenly like Zeno's odds? Everything seems a little too much in his favor.

Styles: As long as Zeno doesn't get cocky, he will no doubt move on to fight Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, or douja, or Death. Well, maybe not Death. There are quite a few men gunning for the OWTTM right now. Zeno better not look past Mano.

MM: It looks like a good old fashioned test of strength here. Oh, poor Mano can't even get locked up with Zeno.

Styles: Go for the middle hand of the three, Mano. Insane hands, indeed.

MM: A frustrated Zeno just grabs Mano's hands and is overpowering Mano. Oh, but Mano slides through Zeno's legs and trips Zeno up. It wasn't pretty, but it broke the hold. Mano with a springboard shoulderblock. Zeno doesn't even budge.

Styles: Do all Mexicans need to use springboard offense? Is it some unwritten rule or something?

MM: Mano is Mexican? I thought he was a white guy in a luchadore getup?

Styles: Careful, Mike, you're starting to sound like Scotty Whatbody!

MM: Oops. Mano with an Asai kick to the head, and Zeno falls through the ropes to the floor. And how much does Anne O'Rexic's pregnancy have to be weighing on Sir Zeno?

Styles: Well, if he didn't sleep with her, he's got nothing to worry about. Hmm...I wonder what sort of hybrid it would be, mixing Dimension-Z and Dimension-E. That is, if Anne doesn't accidentally puke the baby up during one of her purges.

MM: Mano dives.

Styles: PESCADO~!

MM: And both men just crashed into the Flimsy Guardrail®.

Styles: Tequila battered Mano is sure putting his body on the line in this one. That's what you need to do in the House of Sin.

MM: Are you talking about a whorehouse?

Styles: No! I'm talking about the BOB Ballroom. It's in Sin City.

MM: Alright. I need to talk to you later about your announcing skills. No wonder you got demoted. Back in the ring, Mano actually gets a one count on Zeno. Mano off the ropes into...a chinlock?

Styles: Don't think I've ever seen Mano do that one before. I guess he's pulling out all the stops in this one.

MM: Or a bad impression of himself. And now he locks on the bodyscissors. Zeno is all wrapped up. But Zeno breaking free with some shots to the ribs. Zeno's up, but Mano with a slingshot dropkick takes Zeno right back down. Mano's up top. It's a shooting star...accident. Oh no. Mano didn't execute that well at all. He just did a 360 and landed crotch first on the top turnbuckle.

Styles: Maybe Zeno beat him so badly that Mano forgot how to wrestle?

MM: It's starting to look like it, Styles. Zeno's up and pulls Mano into position. What is this.

Styles: The Zen-Ho Train!

MM: Zeno charges and squashes Mano like a bug.

Styles: Now Mano knows what it's like to feel like taco meat.

MM: Mano looking for some lower ground now on the floor. Zeno is on the apron and flies off with a forearm to the skull.

Styles: Oh no, get away from here!


MM: Zeno with a gord buster suplex on the EZ-Break Announce Table. But it didn't break. What is Zeno doing now?

Styles: I think he's about to play kickball with Mano's face.


Styles: Oh my GOD! If Mano's nose isn't busted after that...

Crowd: Zeno! Zeno! Zeno!

MM: Zeno pulling a woozy Insano Mano back to the ring. Zeno may be looking to put Mano away for good now. No? Instead he's delivering more kicks and stomps to Mano.

Styles: I wonder if he's picturing Anne O'Rexic with all those blows. Zeno is pissed tonight!

MM: He's dragging up Mano. Short-arm clothesline. Zeno drags him up for another short-arm clothesline. And there is number three. Zeno's got Mano up and whips him to the ropes. Oh my, what a leg lariat by Zeno.

Styles: Mano looks like he's been through a car wreck on Interstate 80. Wrestling Sir Zeno will shorten your career. Of course, wrestling as Insano Mano will ALSO guarantee a short career.

MM: But Mano has still got some fight left in him. They're trading punches in the middle of the ring, but Zeno with a low blow.

Styles: Hello!

MM: Mano into the ropes, but Mano ducks a martial arts kick. Mano trying for the crucifix, but he doesn't have enough power to take Zeno down.

Styles: Oh NO! Death Valley, don't you dare say "Of The Sun", Driver by Sir Zeno. Cover! One! Two!! Mano again somehow kicks out. Mano is wrestling the wrestling match of his life. And he can't even get hardcore in this one, Mike.

MM: He's got to outwrestle and outthink Zeno, which isn't easy to do when your brains have been turned to mush with multiple chair shots.

Styles: Mano is on spaghetti-o legs right now here in the BOB Ballroom. Mano's down. Zeno's locking on the Living Eraser Clutch. Will Mano tap out.

MM: Living Eraser Clutch?

Styles: I hear there are lots of Living Erasers in Dimension Z. Haven't heard much about camels.

MM: OK. Mano desperately trying to reach the ropes, and he gets a fingernail on the ropes, so Zeno must break the, uh...

Styles: Living Eraser Clutch.

MM: Right. Zeno pulls up Mano once again. And there is an atomic drop.

Styles: Cover! One! Two and NO! Mano AGAIN somehow manages to kick out. Mano must have been a cat in a previous life.

MM: Mano with a dropkick to Zeno's shin. Now he's trying for a suplex, but he can't get Zeno up. Zeno has Mano up and down for a suplex of his own.


Styles: Zeno drops the leg. Cover! One! Two and NO! Insano Mano will not die tonight, and I'm sure Scotty Whatbody is having a fit about that somewhere in the Riviera. Mano grabs Zeno and there's an inverted atomic drop. And a clothesline. He's got Zeno! HE GOT IT! Mano with a suplex! Mano did it! And the fans don't like it one bit. We may have a riot on our hands tonight if Mano pulls the upset.

MM: Tornado DDT by Mano. He's got Zeno set up on the top rope now. Oh no.

Styles: NOOOO! AY DIOS MIOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Mano just HOODANCONRANAD Sir Zeno from the top rope all the way to the FLOOR! Zeno is DEAD! Sir Zeno has got to be DEAD after that one.

Crowd: Mierda santa! Mierda santa! Mierda santa!

Styles: And the crowd is giving it up to Insano Mano for that move. But both men are still down on the floor. I don't know if this match can even continue.

MM: I don't believe it. Amazingly, Insano Mano is getting up. He's dragging Sir Zeno to the ring. Will this be it?

Styles: Cover! One! Two! And....NO! Zeno got a shoulder up! And this crowd comes alive for Sir Zeno once again. This has been one HELL of a match here in the BOB Ballroom tonight. Mano's heading up top. Insano's feeling saulty!

MM: Insano-sault connects. Though I don't know if he hit that the way he wanted to. Will it be enough?

Styles: COVER! ONE! TWO! AND.....NO! What does Mano have to do to put the champion away?

MM: Mano off the ropes but he runs right into a fist.


Styles: Zeno just using Mano like a punching bag. Good God, stop him, Generic Ref!

GR: You think I'm getting near him? I'll allow it.

MM: Generic Ref allowing Zeno to just punch away on Mano, who is defenseless at this point. Zeno backs up and charges.

Crowd: OHHHH!

Styles: DAMN that's gotta hurt! What a lethal running kick by Sir Zeno. Mano may be leaving this ring in a bodybag.

MM: This may be one of the best ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS matches I've ever seen, Styles. I had no idea Mano would put up such a good fight tonight. Zeno's heading up top. But Mano's quickly up top. Super...headlock takeover from the top?

Styles: He's Insano!

MM: Zeno kicks his way free. Zeno charges. but Mano's got him hooked. Spinning powerbomb.

Styles: COVER! ONE! TWO! AND.......NO! Zeno grabs the bottom rope. Mano can't believe it. Now what is this? He's got Mano's head between his legs and...he's repeatedly driving Zeno's face into the mat in almost a kneeling Med Degree-type move. Mano is up. The crowd is booing him, but he doesn't care...all he wants is the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.

MM: Zeno pulling himself up. Mano grabs him by the throat. He's trying for an Eternal Question on Zeno. Zeno easily breaks free. Clothesline From Dimension-Z.

Styles: Zeno stealing from JBL? How low can you go?

MM: Look at this. Mano is trying to use Generic Ref to help him get up. Zeno looks to be ready to finally finish off the challenger.

Styles: What is SHE doing out here? Anne O'Rexic has just come in the ring to come face to face with her alleged baby daddy!

MM: Look out from behind.

[Nikki Mantle winds up and delivers an underhanded...]

Styles: Testicular claw to Zeno. OH my GOD!

MM: Zeno with a wicked elbow to the side of Mantle's head. Mano's up.


MM: He did?

Styles: Insano Mano won. He WON! History has been made here tonight! Insano Mano has done the impossible! He has won the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. A young man who put his body on the line for little to no pay in Suicida Mexico, now has made it all the way to the top while making little to no money for Brawlers On a Budget in Sin City!

MM: Zeno is chasing off Generic Ref. He can't believe it. And frankly, neither can I.

Styles: The odds were stacked against him. Beaten earlier, and drunk on tequila, he somehow STILL managed to beat Sir Zeno!

NH: Here is the winner of the match....and....NEW BOB ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS....Insano Mano!


[The ring is being bombed with trash and drinks.]

Styles: Where's the riot squad when you need them.

MM: Mano is asking for the microphone...

IM: Qué puede yo dice pero....

Styles: Wait a second...

[Mano rips off the mask.]


[Cut to Sir Zeno's shocked face. Fade to black with DEAFENING boos.]

Caption: The Netherworld

MMR1: I don't think we're in Sin City anymore.

[Scuzz walks by.]

Scuzz: Hey guys! I know you! You going to the show?

[The boys look around and see the big stadium sign: HWO....GREAT NETHERWORLD BASH!.....SOULED OUT!....]

Death: *Sigh* Guess we might as well take in a show.

MMR1: Dude, it says it's sold out.

Death: No, it's soUled out.

Jim: Does that mean it's gonna suck WCW style?

Mr. Paradox: Where's my sword? I so need to cut all your heads open for dragging me...wherever we are.

Death: No swords here, Paradox. And it's the Netherworld.

MMR1: Are we stuck here?

Death: I'm afraid that's not up to me.

Jim: Then who is it up to?

Death: Him.

Jack Tunney: Death, buddy, how are you?

Death: Not too bad, Jack. Yourself?

JT: I don't have to see McMahon anymore, so how can I complain, right? Who are your friends?

Death: This is Massive Man Rendition First, Jim "Totally Packaged" and Mr. Paradox. They're wrestlers from Brawlers On a Budget.

JT: You guys kicked the bucket?

Death: No. They sort of, fell on me when I was trying to come here. Now we all seem to be stuck in the Netherworld.

JT: Hmm...well. Since it seems you all aren't dead, but you can't leave, that must mean something.

Mr. Paradox: What is this? A cheap plot device?

JT: Something like that, yes. The way I see it, I always need wrestlers. So I'll make you a deal. You boys work a few shows for me, and I'll see what I can do about getting you back to your dimension.

Death: Do we have a choice?

JT: It doesn't seem like it.

Death: Well listen, I'm the Swiss Army Belt holder for BOB...

Mr. Paradox: You wouldn't be if I could get a match against you.

MMR1: Dude, we're better than all y'all.

JT: Ahh...interesting. Tell you what we're gonna do. How about we have ourselves a match. Featuring Mr. Paradox, versus Jim, versus Massive Man Rendition First. Whoever wins that match will go on to face Death.

Mr. Paradox: And what will Jim and Massive Man do while I'm busy beating Death for the Swiss Army Belt?

MMR1 + Jim: Hahahahaha.

MMR1: My essence is splitting...that's so funny.

JT: We'll cross that road when we get there. But I did have some interest from a certain Canadian who was very interested in meeting you guys.

[Massive Man and Jim look at each other, then at Tunney.]

MMR1: You don't mean...

["Whatever" by Our Lady Peace begins playing. MMR1 and Jim scream and start running for their immortal souls as we fade to black.]

©2007 BOB Wrestling. There's no holding us back...


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