NAGATMSPTTS Number TWO!
DON'T YOU WISH THE BOSS WOULD SPRING FOR A LOGO?
(Taped LIVE and in SURROUND-A-SOUND (((Where available)))...No pyro, not even a cherry bomb, the Monday show gets all those. But, the fans here are treated to a cheesy, heavy metal mixed video montage of BOB stars on the BOBTRON. After 1/4 the crowd begins to file out, quick cut to ringside to save the ones still here.)
SW: WHAT'S UP? I'm Scotty Whatbody and welcome to my show, "The Not As Good As The Monday Show Pre-Taped Thursday Show...NUMBER TWO!" Wait a minute, why didn't I notice that last week? Not As Good As? Whadda you mean? I'm not as good as Mike? What tha hell?
(The Flunkie appears out of nowhere and slaps Scotty on the back of the head.)
SW: Okay, okay. We have a not as good as Monday show TONIGHT! Justin Voss...who somehow managed to get past Lock, Shock, and Barry...will face...what's this? A mystery opponent? Sounds interesting...hmmm. The Domino will take on Blackjack Hooligan in a Hair vs. Beer Match. Bobo Fiendish will defend his "Are You Out Of Your Friggin' Mind?" Hardcore Title against somebody really brave or really stupid. And Viet Kong will defend the Swiss Army Title against Justin Voss if he gets by The Mystery Man.
SW: Oh yeah, and for my punishment for leaving that drooling dork, GBH, all alone at FCP to call a match...I have to commentate this show with Viet Kong's manager, "Charlie".
"Charlie": Mee noot too triwoled too bee heir, needder. Dis moor woorser fur mee dan yoo.
SW: Ummmmm. I doubt that. Anyway...here we are LIVE at the moment in Crooked Creek, Arkansas. This place is ready for action...lets's get to it before anybody else leaves...
"Charlie": Dey bettur reave, dey noo wan' too see Viet Kon kilwole Jussin Voss, dat ees eef him geet by Meesseree Man.
SW: Well put. *sigh*
THE MASKED ANNOUNCER: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! The opening match of the evening is set for one fall. Introducing first, from Portland, Oregon...at 6' 6" and 276...THE "STEREO-TYPED FACE" JUUUUUUUUUUSTIN VOSS!"
("If You're Happy And You Know It" begins to play. More people leave. Shot of Eddie B. crocheting a hangman's noose at his turntable. Justin Voss walks slowly to the ring as some fans join in clapping their hands. Justin appears to be a little winded from his Monday gauntlet...but it doesn't stop him from placing his index fingers to his cheeks and swaying his head. Good pop.)
"Charlie": Dis ees BOOLSHEET! Mee doo noot bereeve dese stoopid peepole ackchoolee rike dis.
SW: Come on, "Charlie". I know I'm sounding like Mike here, but...watch the language. However, I agree with both statements you tried to make. WHAT? I just got word that something is going on in the back concerning Voss' opponent...
(Cut to backstage. BigBOSS is there talking to a man with his back to the camera...)
BB: Listen, I'm trusting you to be my Corporate Enforcer. Don't let me down. That dummy Voss thinks he can make me look bad...well, FINISH HIM! Okay?
(back to ringside...)
(The BigBOSS' theme "Taking Care Of Business" plays as the Mystery Opponent walks to ring with a black towel over his head. Crowd boos and throws things as usual. The man enters the ring and removes his towel...)
MA: HIS OPPONENT...FROM THE OFFICES OF BOB, THE CORPORATE ENFORCER! PSREMZLWVK! LET'S GET IT ON!
SW: WOW! I thought he left! Wait..the 'z' and 's' have been switched! IT'S LEGIT! IT'S COOL! IT'S EVIL! WAY TO GO, DOUBLE B! WHOO HOO!
"C:" Premboovik attak Jussin Voss beefoor tha bewole! GEET HIM, PREMBOOVIK!
***bell finally rings
SW: The BigBOSS really throwing the roadblocks at Voss! Psremzlwvk with club-like forearms all over Justin, The "Face" trying to cover up. Big European uppercut sends Justin crashing into the ropes and down to the mat. Psremzlwvk now gloating over Justin! THIS IS GREAT!
"Charlie": Mee try too bee noot bias...Jussin geetin him ah-soh beet rike a dog. HAA!
SW: I think you need to try harder and did you just say a-hole? The Corporate Meanie with a choke on Voss, whip to the ropes after a quick eye rake...clothesline attempt...VOSS DUCKS! Hooks Psremzlwvk's arm, into a full-nelson now...BELLY TO BACK FULL-NELSON SUPLEX!
"Charlie": Kon goot beetur fool-nelsoon! Him goot foorteen fingur, yoo kno?
SW: Look dude, I'm suppossed to root for the heels here, okay? I'm "The King" around here...I'm "The Brain" around here. Get it? And please tell me your input all night is NOT going to be Viet Kong related. Although, he's cool and all. Y'know..being a heel and everything.
"Charlie": O-kayee, o-kayee..queet whinin', yoo poopee heed! Premboovik geet stun aftur sooprex. Him awt awn him feet. Jussin try peen...won, too...NOO! Corpooreet guy geet awt. Kon geet peen, doh. Eef him een dere dat ess.
SW: This is hopeless. Justin on the attack now, bodyslam! Getting momentum off the ropes, shoulder block takes BigBOSS' Enforcer off his feet. Voss to the ropes again, Psremzlwvk up, sidesteps and sends the "Stereo-typed Face" through the ropes and to the floor!
"Charlie": Mee bee righ bay-kik.
SW: Where are YOU going? WAIT! "Charlie" has a chair...WHAM! He just nailed Voss over the back! The deck really stacked against "Face" boy. "Charlie" lashing Voss with his riding crop! Psremzlwvk outside the ring now...sends Voss into the Flimsy Guard Rail(tm)! Generic Ref counting both men out...
"Charlie": "4, 5, um, 7, whatever comes after 6, ummm, 9." Boof meen bay-kik een, Jussin rookin' een bad wayee.
SW: You know, it almost feels like I'm doing this show WITH GBH.
"Charlie": Premboovik stoomp Jussin...pick him up, him goot Jussin een beer hug!
SW: Beer hug? I do that every night...I think you mean bear hug. The Krappy strongman squeezing the life out of BOB's first Swiss Army champion. After "Charlie's" chair shot and the outside punking, Justin might be done! Ref checking his arm..it falls once, twice...thr....NO! Justin stops him arm at half way!
"Charlie": NOO! Jussin ess crappin'!
SW: No that was me, sorry...had Mexican food for supper. Oh..you mean he's CLAPPING! Clapping his hands. It must be the "Happy And You Know It"?!
Drunk guy in front row:"If yous hap-py...an' yous kno it,*hic*...CLAP YOUS HANDS!"
crowd: CLAP, CLAP
"If yous haaaaaaaaaaa-py an' yous kno it...*burp* CLAP THOSE HANDS!"
SW: HEY! THAT'S SCUZZ! Our former ring announcer with Night Train et all...he's leading the cheers! The crowd's falling for it! Justin is...pardon the expression...HULKIN' UP!
"Charlie": Dis STEENK! Dese fan bee mark! Coom awn Premboovik!
SW: Justin with a right...ANOTHER! ANOTHER! ANOTHER! Staggers The Corporate Goon...Justin is out of the bear hug! He's really psyched! This crowd is still clapping...Justin with another right...Psremzlwvk is down!
"Charlie": Preese doo noot doo regdop, preese doo noot doo regdrop!
SW: Justin off the ropes, P-man up...flying shoudler tackle by Voss! Justin points to the crowd...sets his man up...GRINBREAKER!
"Charlie": Jussin coffur. Him hook tha reg...WON...TOO...TREE! DAMMEET!
MA: THE WINNA! And getting the Swiss Army Title shot tonight...JUUUUUUUUUUSTIN VOSS!
SW: Man, BigBOSS is NOT going to like this. Justin leaves through the crowd...HEY SCUZZ, WHAT'S UP...BUDDY!
"Charlie": Dat boothowole Jussin gonna wishee him noo ween dis may-chee. Kon bee freesh, Jussin dameej good. Him tireed.
SW: Nice color commentary there, "Charlie"...it's commercial time, then our special Hair vs. Beer match...take it away, fellas...
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SW: And we're back. Can't wait for those. I wonder if they'll have a Scotty Whatbody action figure? I'd rack up. "Charlie", I heard yours even comes with a "Charlie" to English dictionary!
"Charlie": Veree foonee. HAA HAA. Veree foonee. Yoo a coomeedeen, Scootee.
MA: Our next contest of the evening is a Hair vs. Beer Match. Somebody is going to lose his hair or lose his beer. Introducing first...IT DOESN'T MATTER WHERE HE'S FROM, OR WHAT HE WEIGHS! OR EVEN HIS HEIGHT! THEEEEEEE DOM-I-NO!
(And thus, the most blantant Rocky Maivia ripoff makes his way to the ring to the "Domino Rally" Theme and a chorus of boos. He ignores the crowd and raises his eyebrow, steps through the ropes and runs his fingers through his hair.
MA: ..and his opponent. From The Unlucky Clover Ranch in Ireland, 6' 6" and 320 pounds...BLACKJACK HOOOOOOOOOOLIGAN!
(The very poor, self rendition "Limestone Cowboy" remake of Glenn Cambell's "Rhinestone Cowboy" plays as Jack Hooligan staggers to the ring with a "Lone Star Irish Lager" in his meaty fist. Eddie B. tries to spice up the song with a little scratchy scratch. Blackjack walks by the announcers desk and drops off a card, gets in the ring and chugs his brew to the last drop.
"Charlie": Wha awn dat car', Scootee?
SW: It's Jack's "Chug-Sum-Beers" pre-paid credit card! That's how we pay him! I guess if he loses...he loses his card! The thought of this guy without hops and barley is more frightening than Domino without hair...can you imagine the withdrawls THIS guy would have?
"Charlie": Doon't kno...Domeeno witawt hare preettee frigh-nin'
MA: LET'S GET IT ON!
SW: And there's the bell! Both these men are huge! Domino at 6' 9" and 303, Jack at 6' 6" and 320. Gonna be quite a fight, "Charlie."
"Charlie": Kon biggur. Him SEEX EIGH, TREE FOORTY FIGH!
SW: Yeah, but ten pounds of that is torso hair...and please..can we get through one match WITHOUT you talking about your charge?
"Charlie": Collur eelbo tee up, boof men stuggul fur advanteej. Needder moove dee udder.
SW: The Domino gets the advantage with an arm drag takedown. Blackjack up to a knee and looking at The Domino with a shocked expression. Both men very cautious...a lot riding on this one.
"Charlie": Domeeno awf dee rope noow...shoodur brock...needer man moove!
SW: It's the old irresistable force and the immovable object bit! Domino with a head of steam again...Hooligan catches him with a lariat! Quick cover...1...NO! Gonna take more than that.
"Charlie": Beeg righ han' froom Hoogeegan, him try too knock Domeeno o-vur. Hee.
SW: Are you SURE you're not GBH? OOOHHHH! Hooligan sent The Domino into the corner...followed him in...and the Domino exploded out with a back elbow smash! Domino has turned the momentum. He's trying a bodyslam...gets him up...WHAM! The large cowboy hit hard.
"Charlie": Domeeno kickin' awayee at Brackjack. Him noow try verticole sooprex...Brackjack hook reg!
SW: Hooligan blocked the suplex attempt...delivers his own on The Domino! WHAM! (the sound effect, not that gay 80's duo) This one is back and forth! Jack with a elbow drop...HE MISSED!
"Charlie": Domeeno wit regdrop...HIM MEES, TOO!
SW: This one can't be far away from becoming an all out brawl...this sort of technical stuff is going nowhere. Right hand punch by The Domino, blocked by Blackjack! Hooligan nails the taller man with his own right. BOTH MEN NOW SLUGGING IT OUT IN THE CENTER OF THE RING! WHOO!
"Charlie": Dis geetin' good!
SW: Both men still hammering away...staggering each other...but neither going down! Right by Hooligan, Domino with a right hand smash...Hooligan answers! Domino connects! Blackjack with another right! Domino fires back! BLACKJACK STUMBLES! He's about to fall!
"Charlie": Domeeno rook rike him go fur "Domeeno Rallee!" Him run too rope...'cuse mee.
SW: What are you doing THIS time? WAIT! "Charlie" just grabbed The Domino's leg as he bounced off the ropes. The Domino stopped to look at the little Vietnamese man...it could be enough distraction. Domino now turns back to the action...IRISH NOOGIN' CLAW!
"Charlie": Mee bay-kik.
SW: What'd you do that for? You have no beef with The Domino.
"Charlie": Yoo fin' awt.
SW: Blakjack has his claw hold on The Domino! Domino slumping to the canvas unconscious...his shoulders are down, Generic Ref is there...1...2...THREE! Listen to this crowd boo!
(Shot of The Flunkie running by with large "BOO" cue card...back to Scotty.)
SW: Now what? "Charlie" is in the ring...HE'S RAISING HOOLIGAN'S HAND! He's handed a card or something to The Masked Announcer...WHAT THA?
MA: The WINNA! (looks at card) And the other half of "THE UNETHICAL ETHNIC ALLIANCE"...BLACKJACK HOOOOOLIGAN!
SW: Unethical what? "Charlie" has recruited Blackjack Hooligan! The Irish Rowdie and the Vietnamese Nightmare, Viet Kong? "Charlie" has formed a tag-team? Domino still out from the claw hold, "Charlie" and Hooligan now shaving The Domino's head with barber's sheers! What a turn of events! Man, I really sound like Mike...*sigh*. Hey, Jack left his beer card...I'll just put that right over here (puts it in his pocket)
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SW: We're back. Wow "Charlie", two matches and you've interferred in both of them. Not to mention you've added Blackjack Hooligan with Viet Kong. Looking for those vacant tag titles?
"Charlie": Maybee, maybee noot. Hey, wheir Brackjack beer card?
SW: Ummmmm...Flunkie took it. It's time for our next match...Bobo Fiendish will defend his "AYOOYFM" hardcore title against...well, nobody has signed yet. Let's go to the back...
"Charlie": Yoo shoor yoo noot see beer card?
SW: Haven't seen it. Ummm, Flunkie has it. I told you that already.
(Cut to backstage with BigBOSS and Li'lBOSS.)
BB: Okay, who did we schedule to wrestle Bobo tonight?
LB: Well, nobody WANTS to wrestle him. I think everybody is afraid of Bobo.
BB: Bloody hell! Get the damn Medium Sized Bucket(tm) and pick him an opponent...I'm going to find Psremzlwvk and send him back to wherever he came from in that stupid box of his.
LB: Oh, come on BigBOSS! He agreed to work for 200 Kabukis a week!
BB: Can we afford that?
LB: I don't see why not... Kabukis are pancakes...
(Back to ringside...)
SW: WHOO HOO! Pickupsticks might be getting the axe! Hey "Charlie", I bet you don't get involved in this next match.
"Charlie": Wha? Mee noot stoopid.
(Purple fog begins to emerge from the ramp stage. Yngwie Malmsteen's "See You In Hell (Don't Be Late)" begins to play. Voice Over:"HELLO, MY INTENDED." Humongous pop at the voice over as the fans realize who is coming, and they're not stupid, either. Bobo Fiendish appears out of the fog and slowly strolls to the ring with his title in hand.)
SW: Man, this guy is creepy. I wonder what fodder Li'lBOSS pulled out of the bucket...
MA: Ladies and Gentlemen, this match is for the "Are You Out Of Your Friggin' Mind" Hardcore title. First, because the challenger has yet to be determined...the champion...parts unknown, weight unknown...BOBOOOOOOOOOO Q. FIENDISH!
SW: *COUGH* *COUGHsquash* Excuse me. Hey, here's Bobo's b!tch...ummmm, I mean opponent. Crap, that better not get me another week with "Charlie".
"Charlie": Yoo shoor yoo noot see beer card?
(Eddie B. cues "Where Everybody Knows Your Name"...the theme from "Cheers", just to be an @ss. Mr. Claven is pushed out from behind the curtain by the Li'LBOSS...
LB: I picked you out of the bucket, HONEST!"
Claven: "YOU DID NOT YOU F(bleep)ING LIAR!"
SW: Now look...Lock, Shock, and Barry are having to drag Mr. Claven to the ring!
Claven: "GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME! I'M WITH THE U.S. POSTAL SERVICE! I'LL SHOW YOU, I'LL SHOW YOU ALL!"
SW: LOOK AT THIS! Mr. Claven is uhhhh...GOING POSTAL! He just took out Lock, Shock, and Barry! He's in the ring...HE NAILED THE MASKED ANNOUNCER WITH HIS MAILBAG! HE WAFFLED THE GENERIC REF!
"Charlie": Uh-oh...Feendish goot him...AH SOOKIE!
SW: Claven breaks free from Bobo! Whips Fiendish into the ropes...SPINNING MAILBAG HEEL KICK! Claven is a house of fire! (still miss you, Gorilla) I think that's first time Bobo has been knocked off his feet!
"Charlie": Deedn't rast rong...
SW: You're right, Scooby. Bobo is back up. Crescent kick stops Claven in his tracks. Northern lights suplex! Bobo now outside the ring, he has a table...
SW: RUT ROW! RORRY RAGGY! Uhhhh, sorry. Bobo has Claven up on the table in the middle of the ring...wait, who is that fat guy?!
SW: IT'S G. I. SLOW! Maybe he wants revenge on Bobo for taking his title!
(Slow waddles down to the ring, passes by, and quickly shuffles his large rump up the aisle.)
SW: What was THAT all about?
"Charlie": Free peenoot at conceeshun stan'.
SW: So, G.I. Slow could care less about this match or revenge, he just wants to be first in line! Bobo with the "Farewell To The Flesh" THROUGH THE TABLE!
"Charlie": Dee coffur, won...too... an' tree.
SW: Nice effort by Mr. Claven...but it just wasn't enough tonight. I was really looking foward to that "Special Delivery", too.
MA: The WINNA! And still the "AYOOYFM" Champion...BOBOOOOOOOOOO Q. FIENDISH!
SW: Man, I really hope Claven is okay after that. Well, let's go to M.A. for our main event...
MA: LAAA-DIES AND GENTLEMEN! This is your main event. For the SWISS ARMY TITLE! Introducing first, and having defeated Psremzlwvk earlier tonight...from Portland, Oregon....JUUUUUUUSTIN VOSS!
("Happy And You Know It" again...Eddie B. uses his turntable magic to add a special "Main Event Bootie Grind Mix". Justin walks to the ring with a slight limp. Good pop as Scuzz leads the cheers.)
MA: And his opponent...from Hoi Phong, Vietnam...THE TWO-TIME SWISS ARMY CHAMPION....VIEEEEEEEEEET KONG!
"Charlie": Dat's mee boyee!
(The speed metal remake of "The Charlie's Angels" Theme plays as Eddie B. "sees a man about a dog." Kong saunters to the ring with the distinct swagger of a confident champion. He drops the title at ringside and quickly scrambles under the ropes before...)
SW: ...There's the bell! Justin quickly all over Kong. He's trying to end it early, Justin having all ready wrestled in the opening bout and his stamina might not be at it's high point...he can't afford a long match!
"Charlie": Coom awn, Kon...KILWOLE HIM!
SW: Justin trying for a bodyslam...can't get him up. Huge forearm across Voss' back sends the "Stereo-typed Face" to the canvas. The champion now moving on the offensive...Justin covering up.
"Charlie": Kon wit joodo choop too neek, Jussin fawole doown. PEEN HIM, KON! PEEN HIM!
SW: You're the most unbiased commentator I've EVER heard! Justin for the ride...HARD into the corner. Kong charges...Voss moves...KONG SHOULDER FIRST INTO THE RING POST!
"Charlie": KON...DOO NOO DOO BEER HUG!
SW: Dude, he's like all crumpled up in the turnbuckles.
"Charlie": Dat fur foochur refereense.
SW: Justin now pounding away on the big Asian. HE HAS A HANDFUL ON KONG'S EXECUTIONER'S HOOD!
SW: "Charlie" is in the ring again! Voss caught the little rice hat man with a big boot to the face! Kong with an elbow to Justin's stomach and gets free! VK readjusts his hood. Taking Kong's hood off will not win Justin the title. Justin has lost his focus. Voss now sends "Charlie" over the top rope! Kong has recovered and running knee into Justin's back!
"Charlie": Dat beetch! Jussin Voss gonna payee!
SW: Well, that's what you get for getting in the ring all the time.
"Charlie": Wha...yoo geet awn mee baad side?
SW: Nah man, it's cool. Kong with a gorilla press! That's alot of human to do THAT to! Cover...1...2...thr.....NO! Justin got a shoulder up!
"Charlie": DAMMEET! Coom awn Kon! GEEVE HIM RICE CANNOON!
SW: "Charlie" managing from ringside...VK whips Justin into the ropes. Going for that huge clothesline...Justin ducks....X-FACTOR! Or...should that be...JUSTINFACTOR!
"Charlie": Good ding him name noot Max.
SW: Justin with the cover...1...2....KONG GETS A SHOULDER UP! Justin to the top rope now....the big man with a flying body pre...NO! SCOOP POWERSLAM BY KONG! This might be it!
"Charlie": Who dee helwole ess dat?
SW: It's THE LITTLE BIG MAN COMING DOWN THE AISLE! Kong going for the cover...1....2...LITTLE BIG MAN PULLS THE REF OUT OF THE RING! What strength by the midget!
"Charlie": Dis ess BOOLSHEET!
SW: Wait a minute..."Charlie" over and smacks the dwarf! He throws him in the ring...VIET KONG HAS HIM! Kong just punted the Little Big Man into THE NINTH ROW! Justin up, Kong turns...GRINBREAKER! THE COVER...1....2...THR....NO! "Charlie" breaks it up with a kick to Voss' head!
GR: "GET OUTTA HERE "CHARLIE"!
"Charlie": Yoo "DEE COO" KON? Goo aheed...may-kik mee dayee.
SW: Generic Ref just shoved "Charlie" out of the ring...Kong setting up Justin for THE FULL METAL STRAIT JACKET...HIS FOURTEEN FINGER FULL-NELSON! He almost has it locked! Justin slips through and drops to the canvas...rolls up onto his upperback and hooks VK's arms with his legs...foward roll...grabs VK's legs! 1....2....THREE!
MA: THE WINNA! AND NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW SWISS ARMY CHAMPION... JUUUUUUUUSTIN VOSS!
SW: Hey...whassup with the lights?
(deep voiced voice over: "j---W---o". Nameless, heavy bassed tune begins as Jobbers Inc. members exit the curtain wearing white t-shirts with black, electrical taped letters on them. They quickly run to the ring.)
SW: What in the world is THIS? Jobbers Inc. punking the new champion as the lights return! They just threw Justin out of the ring....wait, XXXtreme Machine has the mic!
XXXtreme: "i am no longer xxxtreme machine due to my big win over Neige i am now TRIPLE X TREME! i formed jWo adn we will kik all yer @sses and win all the titles in bob damnit you can call me BIG SEXXXY from now on iam god!"
Mr. X: "I am now...MR. X-POC! We rule!"
Super Mollusc: "You can call me...BIG POPPA MOLLUSC! Where my Shellfreaks at? Holla if you HEAR ME!"
(Sound of wind can be heard rustling the leaves....outside.)
Xenomorph: "You may now refer to me as...XENONAN!" ROWDIE ROWDIE AND..."
Guy in front row: "SHUT THE FUNK UP!
DJ Rawkus: "Hey yo...it's survey time. Did you people come here to see B-O-B? Or did yous come to see the..."
MC Carjack: "We be tha 'HoodSider's...and we TOOOOOOOOOO...uh...SUGARY!"
Alex "no Gimmick" Smith: "I have a guitar."
MM: WOW! The jWo is here! But, for how long? Probably about as long as New Formula Coke. HEY...we're out of time here. For "Charlie", I'm Scotty Whatbody and goodnight from Thursday Night!
©2000 BOB Wrestling!