MONDAY MORNING MAYHEM 9!
BIG, BAD AND BACK!!
A huge (For BOB) crowd is going absolutely nuts as we pan The Goldpanner Arena and Casino, in beautiful Battle Mountain, Nevada! The Flunky lets off a single blast of cheap pyrotechnics in celebration of BOB's triumphant return! We pick up the announce table, where Mike "The Monotone" Monroe, Scotty Whatbody and GBH are mugging wildly for the camera.
MM: Hello everyone and WELCOME BACK.. to MONDAY MORNING MAYHEM!
SW: You don't know how happy it makes me.. and my bank manager... to hear you say those words, Mike!
GBH: Yur. Nice. Scotty friend.
SW: Even hearing GBH mumble incoherantly sounds great today! Yes, fans! We're BAAAAACK!
MM: Yes, due to underwhelming public demand, we've returned to your screens! And we're picking up right where we left off... Battle Mountain, Nevada... the second stop on BOB's "Coast To Coast" tour! Today we'll bring you some welcome returns and some great new faces! In our main event, Bobo Fiendish will square off against Lord Sexbat...
SW: Oooh, that's going to be brutal... and one-sided...
MM: Plus, Joshua Craig tangles with Xenonan, Blackjack Hooligan meets Sir Ronald Killalot and "Twisted Jaws" Mercury takes on Mr X-Poc in a "Casino of Doom"match!
GBH: Duh. Snake eyes. Yur.
MM: So let's get straight on up to the Masked Announcer to start the festivities!
MA: Ladies and Gentlemen! This contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, representing the jWo... XENONAN!
(A Latin-styled remix of the Star Trek theme plays for Xenonan. He's already in the ring, natch.)
MA: And his opponent... Accompanied by his father/manger, Micheal Craig.. from Oakbrook, IL, weighing in at 192 pounds... "THE DISENFRANCHISED" JOSHUA CRAIG!
("Break Stuff" by Limp Bizkit plays. A quick shot of Eddie B with his fingers in his ears. Joshua heads to the ring without much fan reaction... small pop when his over-baggy pants fall down, though.)
GBH: Duh. Nice boxers. Yur.
The Generic Ref: Ding ding ding!
MM: And this one is underway! A regulation tie-up into a hammerlock from Craig! Back elbow from Xenonan! Joshua rebounds off the ropes and nails Xenonan with a forearm to the back of the head!
GBH: Duhhh... yur.
MM: Nice input, GBH. Whip to the ropes, reversal by Xenonan... drops his head.. sunset flip by Craig! 1..2.. Xenonan moves slightly and Craig convienently flips over into a pinning predicadment! 1..2.. Roll away from Craig... sChoolboys Xenonan.. 1..2.. no!
SW: Aww, the old "I pin you, you pin me" bit. Never works, but it at least makes the squash look a little more even...
MM: Xenonan off the ropes, right into a firemans carry takedown, rather clumsily executed by Craig. A nice elbowdrop there. Tries another... but Xenonan catches him in a chickenwing... Joshua struggles toward the ropes... makes it!
SW: This should be a good contest, with the *ahem* "Excellent technical skills and ring savvy" of Xenonan, versus the "Untested rookie" in Craig.
MM: What the hell? That was a relevant comment! Are you feeling alright Scotty?
(A shot of the announcers reveals Scotty is reading "Pro-Wrestling Commentary For Dummies" (12th edition))
MM: Oh, that explains it! Nice maneuver from Craig sends Xenonan down to the mat!
(Scotty flips to the glossary.)
SW: "Nice maneuver: Generic comment: Used whenever a commentator misses a move or doesn't know what it is." Cool! This is easy!
MM: Give me that! (Snatches book, starts reading it.)
GBH: Duh. Hurty, hurty, hurty! Yur! Bug!
(GBH is shown to be reading "Pro Wrestling for REAL Dummies" (Large Print with Big Pictures Edition.))
SW: Big facebreaker on Xenonan! Headbutt and down goes the big man! Craig is in control! Mike Craig shouting encouragement from the outside... It's so sad watching failures living through ther kids... I wonder if he's ever met Soccer Mom? Mike?
MM: *mumbling* "You gotta be kidding me!"... What? Sorry, what was that? Is it over?
SW: Not yet... it shouldn't be long though... Xenonan has put up as much of a fight as a Frenchman living next door to a brothel!
MM: Ummm.. whatever. Bodyslam sends Xenonan back to the canvas. Craig strikes a pose.. and THERE'S THE TEMPER TANTRUM!
GBH: Duh! Stompy stompy stompy!
SW: Xenonan is getting a beating!
Xenonan (Just audibly): Uhh.. am I supposed to tap out, or is this a pinning thing?
MM: And Xenonan taps! Micheal Craig is ecstatic! This one is in the books!
SW: And not before time! Joshua Craig victorious in his BOB jobber squash debut... Now let's get on to some real senseless violence!
GBH: Duh. Yur.
MA: The following contest is a "Dublin Street Fight" scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, representing the Unethical Ethnic Alliance.. BLACKJACK HOOOOOLIGAN!
("Limestone Cowboy" plays as The Irish Cowboy rides to the ring on a lime-green-dyed pony. He's stopped halfway to the ring by a member of the Humane Society. A brawl ensues. We cut to the back, where Sir Killalot is adjusting his breastplate. Dennis is with him.)
Dennis: Sir Killalot, old chap... you're set to make your debut in BOB! Do you think you can win?
SK: Oh, I don't care! Leave me alone...
Dennis: Jolly good! Best of luck old chap...
(Back to ringside. Hooligan is in the ring, polishing off a six-pack.)
MA: And his opponent... hailing from Arthurian England... "SIR ROLAND "MISERABLE GIT" KILLALOT!
V/OVER: Would Thou Likest Fries With That?
(Becks "Loser" belts out as Sir Roland wanders apathetically to the ring. Good pop... I guess facing the Ethnics helps. Another shot of Eddie B who appears to be sulking.)
SW: So clue me in Mike.. what's the deal with a "Dublin Streetfight"? The same old no-holds-barred match as always?
MM: Pretty much. But we put some Guinness kegs in the ring!
MM: Sir Killalot climbs into the ring... and Blackjack immediately blindsides him with a empty beer bottle!Lucky for Killalot he still had his helmet on! Front facelock... and Sir Killalot is rammed head first into the beer keg!
SW: GOOD KNIGHT!
MM: Thanks for that, Scotty Hudson! Blackjack rams him into the keg for a second time! Whips him to the ropes and delivers a tremendous powerslam! Putting the boots to him now! Sir Killalot just lies there and takes it...
SW: Like my ex-wi...
MM: DON'T go there, Scotty! Hooligan slides to the floor and pulls something from under the ring... can anyone see what it is?
GBH: Duh. Bunny Rabbit. Hee.
MM: Nice try, GBH. It looks like it's Blackjacks carry-on luggage fromk his flight back to the States! He' empties it on the arena floor... Good Lord! Look at the stuff he had in there! A street sign reading "Limerick 1/2 Mile", a a furled Irish flag, a cookie sheet...
SW: A cookie sheet? Hardcore Cliche Alert!
MM: Hey! They make cookies in Ireland! Sir Killalot gets back to his feet.. Hooligan rolls back in...
MM: Waffled him with the road sign! He's got the cookie sheet in his other hand...
MM: Cymbal'd him!
SW: Is that a word?
GBH: Duh. I fink so.
MM: Well, you're the brains of this operation, GBH... Sir Killalot is still just taking this abuse! Hooligan drops the cookie sheet and DDT's him onto it! Killalot bounces up again and wanders off randomly! Hooligan seems perplexed... charges him and shoulder blocks the thawed-out knight over the ropes. Hooligan plays to the crowd as Sir Killalot lies in a cumpled heap at our feet...
SW: Wait a minute... Sir Killalot is getting up.. he looks.. miffed...
SR: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!! TAKE THIS, FOUL VARLET!
SW: He's snapped!! Sir Killalot grabs a chair...
GBH: Ow. I was. Sitting on. Dat. Yur.
MM: Sir Killalot is in the ring... Hooligan turns.. SLAMMO! Right in the head! And again! A third shot! Hooligan is staggering! Roland takes a run-up... And Hooligan PUNCHES THE CHAIR INTO HIS FACE! Killalot is down and Hooligan looks like he really hurt his hand!
SW: No s-BLEEP-t Mikey! Hahaha! This is GREAT! Go get him, Hooligan! Check it out.. he's laying the chair over Killalots face.. LEGDROP! That's the way!
MM: Killalot no-sells it! Straight to his feet and kicks Hooligan in the guts! Double-arm DDT! He grabs the Irish flag and snaps it over Hooligans back!
SW: Thus earning the wrath of every cop in New York City! What's he doing now?
MM: He looks like he's dragging him over to the Guinness keg! Rams Blackjacks head into the top of it! And again!
MM: WHOA! He just put Hooligans head through the top of the barrell! He tries to pull Hooligan out out there... Blackjack fights him off...
(Copius glugging noises begin to emenate from the ring.)
MM: Was that keg full?
SW: Not for long, Mikey... CHUG-a-LUG! CHUG-a-LUG!
(Forty seconds later Blackjack pulls his head out of the keg, dripping Guinness foam and gently topples over. NOTE: BOB does not condone the drinking of alcoholic bevarges in any way. Except beer.)
MM: Killalot pins the prone Blackjack.. 1..2..3!!
MA: Here is your winner.. SIR ROLAND KILLALOT!
MM: Sir Killalot wins it! He drapes Blackjack Hooligan with the Irish flag and leaves to a good response from the fans! This has got to be considered a major upset! But hey... that's BOB, folks! Let's go to a commercial while they drag Blackjacks carcasse out of the ring!
COMING SOON: The Greatest BOB Pay-Per-View EVER! It'll have thrills, excitement and a really snazzy name! Probably! So call your cable operator now and say "I'll have what BOB's having!"
MM: And we're back!
SW: Geez, one day back on air and we're plugging a Pay-Per-View we haven't even thought up yet? The BOSS must really be in the hole...
MM: Speaking of being in the hole, it's time for the "Casino of Doom" match! Nice link, eh?
GBH: Duh. Mikey smart. Hur hur hur...
(We cut to a busy casino. The Standby Ref is present, playing a slot machine. A nearby craps dealer has been drafted in as ring announcer.)
MA: Ladies and gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall! Place your bets! Introducing first, from the jWo.. MR X-POC! Coming out!
(Big pop from the crowd/players as Mr X-Poc comes out. Turns out it wasn't him they were cheering for, however...)
MA: SEVEN! Pay the line! And his opponent, from the island nation of Nauru... "TWISTED JAWS" STEINER MERCURY! Place your bets! Get 'em down, spread 'em round!
(The Standby Ref's Slot machine pays out with much ringing of bells... the wrestlers take that as a sign the match is underway.)
SW: Mike, what's going on? The casino is full of players! How are they supposed to wrestle in there?
MM: Have you ever worked in a casino, Scotty? Trust me, the place could be on fire and those players wouldn't leave... Mercury and X-Poc lock up in the middle of the floor! Big shove-off by Mercury! Mr X-Poc regains his balance without losing his vertical base.. Explosive spear from Steiner drives X-Poc to the floor! Steiners up.. drops an elbow.. X-Poc rolls away! Kip-up.. make it a double kip-up! Both men assume faux-karate stances and circle each other warily!
SW: This should be a less-sucky-than-usual match! Mr X-Poc looks like he's slimmed down and toned up since we last saw him, and this Mercury is a real hot prospect! (Closes "Pro-Wrestling Commentary For Dummies".) That should hold the little SOB's...
MM: SCOTTY! Leave the off-color commentary for your Thursday show! They lock-up again.. Mercury slithers out of it and hooks a hammerlock! Releases it for a short bulldog! Mercury up first.. he siezes a complimentary cocktail off a passing waitress and gives Mr X-Poc a faceful!
Mr X-Poc: Ahhh! I can't see! Mmmmm.. Fuzzy Navel!
GBH: Steiner Mercury takes advantage of X-Pocs diminshed ocular capacity.. duh. Sorry. Mikes line. Hee.
MM: I should think so! Steiner Mercury takes... oh, it's lost its dramatic impetus now! He springboards off a chair and dropkicks X-Poc in the back! X-Poc cannons off a blackjack table! He rebounds.. and there's a strangley appropriate Frankensteiner on the floor! A pin... where's the ref?
SW: He's still collecting his quarters from that slot machine! Steiner tries to get his attention!
MM: No response! "Twisted Jaws" is hot! He runs over and finally gets the Ref back on the job!
GBH: Too late! X-Pocs up and he's got a fistful of quarters!
MM: Sounds like a low-budget Western!
SW: Leave the bad puns to me, Mike! Big loaded punch drops Mercury! He went down faster than a White House intern during a recession!
MM: You don't even care if your quips make sense anymore, do you?
SW: Not particularly...
MM: X-Poc drags Mercury to the Big Wheel! Holds face right next to the spokes and spins it hard! Ouch! Listen to those pegs thud off Mercurys face! A pickup.. back suplex onto the betting layout!
Big Wheel Dealer: Do we have any further bets?
MM: Steiner rolls off and catches X-Poc coming in! Inverted atomic drop! Quick thinking from the Nauruaite.. Nauran... by the Pacific Islander! Scoops Mr X-Poc up and bodyslams him onto a craps table! Mr X gets two dice in the side of the head for good measure!
Craps dealer: No roll! Jobber on the table!
MM: Steiner springs onto the lip of the table and nails X-Poc with a short frog splash! One.. two.. kickout! They're struggling wildly on the table! Mr X-Poc throws a handful of 5 dollar chips at Steiner, blinding him momentarily. Hip-tosses him right off the craps table! This is getting intense! Thy're headed for the roulette tables!
GBH: Duh. House number. You lose. Hee.
MM: Steiner is slammed into the felt. Mr X-Poc is putting up a good fight here! WAIT A MINUTE! That roulette dealer just yanked the wheel out of the table and blindsided Mr X-Poc with it!
SW: Hey! That's.. Big SeXXXy? What the hell?
MM: Steiner grabs the dazed Mr X-Poc and rams him head-first into a slot machine!
(Predictably, the slot machine lights up and begins spewing quarters over Mr X-Pocs' crumpled body.)
MM: He's out! Steiner makes a cover..1..2..3!!
MA: Here is your winner.. WINNER WINNER WINNER! Pay the line! Oh, sorry... Your winner.. "TWISTED JAWS" STEINER MERCURY!
SW: What the hell was Big SeXXY doing? Why did he turn on his own stablemate?
BS: uh.. i just wnated to get mi face on tv ok?
SW: Ahhhh.. what "Pro Wrestling For Dummies" calls the "Nash Strategy"... guess it's not a Monday without a screwjob ending somewhere!
MM: Well, that's as may be... but there's no time to dwell on the implications of a jobber-gone-rouge! It's main event time!
MA: Ladies and gentlemen... This is our MAIN EVENT! And it is for the Pan-Galactic Championship! Introducing first, from Parts Unadmitted... weighing in at.. oh, why am I even bothering? The poor guy's going to get killed!! *cough*.. LORD LESTAT VON SEXBAT!
("Black Planet" plays as Lord Sexbat appears with his succubi in tow. Boos a-plenty from the loyal BOB fnas. Eddie B. switches CD's halfway down the aisle, meaning Lord Sexbat actually enters to a Funeral March. ("Eddie B's Funky "We All Gonna Die" House Mix") The BOB fans begin a "YOU'RE DEAD MEAT!" chant. Lord Sexbats succubi take one look down the aisle and scatter like chickens.)
MA: Introducing at this time, weighing in a 335 pounds of homicidal intensity... currently charging the ring... BOBO F-AWWK!
MM: The Masked Announcer dives for saftey as Bobo hits the ring! Lord Sexbat is driven back with a flurry of punches! Whip to the ropes... Huge clothesline knocks Sexbat for a loop! Bobo is looking better than ever!
SW: Don't kill him yet, Bobo! He's under contract! OOH! That was nasty! Sexbat is going to regret signin.. WHOA! What is that? I never knew the body could bend like.. OH!
GBH: Hur hur hur! Hurty hurty hurty! Yur!
MM: I can hardly describe what we're seeing, folks! Bobo is.. Oh, that's disgusting! Lord Sexbat is putting up a game fight...
SW: You mean, because he isn't dead yet? For the love of Gorrilla Monsoon, is that legal? Or physcally possible?
(There has been extended crowdsots during most of this match. We cut back to the ring as Bobo powerbombs Lord Sexbat onto a collection of sporting goods he'd assembled in the ring. Half a ski flies into the crowd.)
MM: This is just a plain, simple beatdown! Lord Sexbat has had no opportunities for any offense whatsoever! Big Samoan drop! Sexbat is a puddle on the mat!
SW: Bobo's making the sign for the "Farewell to the Flesh'! This could be the quickest title defense ever!
MM: And Lord Sexbat might have the quickest career in pro-wrestling! Bobo hauls Sexbat to his feet...
(A single trumpet abrubtly starts playing "The Ride of the Valkyries" as a spotlight switches on.)
SW: Holy Crap! Look! Up in the rafters! It's Kamikazie Ken! What's that lunatic doing?
MM: He's holding a component mini-disk player... LOOK OUT BELOW! A KEN-TON BOMB! Sexbat ducks and covers...
MM: And Bobo has been WIPED OUT!! So has Ken, who practically drilled himself into the mat! Lord Sexbat crawls over to Bobo and drapes an arm over him... the Generic Ref counts.. ONE! TWO! THREE!
SW: You gotta be kidding me! You can't be serious! Lord Sexbat!!??
MA: *Ahem*... Ladies and Gentlemen.. here is your winner.. and, somehow, your NEWWWWWW Pan-Galactic Champion... LORRRRD SEXXXBAT!
MM: What an upset! This crowd is in shock!
SW: They're not the only ones! What the hell was Ken thinking? Dennis, talk to the man!
Dennis: Right-o! Ken, old chap... you just cost Bobo Fiendish his title.. a bit silly, eh what?
Ken: Wha'? Bobo? I was aiming for Sexbat... stupid mask slipped... ow..
MM: OH! Bobo has recovered enough to flatten the still-dazed Kamikazie Ken! A huge brawl erupts between those two as the locker room empties! All of our superstars... well, the heel superstars anyway... have hit the ring to congratulate our new Pan-Galactic champion! And we're out of time, so for Scotty Whatbody and GBH, I'm Mike Monroe saying, we'll see you on Thursday.. COAST-TO-COAST!
©2000 BOB Wrestling!