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November In Nowhere

Axl

Caption: Thanksgiving Day, November '07

[As our camera opens, the first sight we see is the near naked backside of someone bent over in front of an oven. Thankfully, it's NOT Axl (although he probably would have liked it to be...), and in fact, it's not a man at all. It's a nice, round, curved... hummina, hummina... our subject wears a tight business skirt, and as she removes something from the stove, she turns around, and we find that she is in fact Tifa Bon Jovi, Axl's agent. She holds within her hands a large turkey, which she places on the counter. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail, and her eyes look into the camera through a pair of glasses...]

[... But as she is about to open her mouth, Axl comes into the picture, clasping a hand over her shoulder, smiling broadly.]

Axl: Tifa, today, is a grand and momentous day! Our new family... the BLOW family... comes together, and gives thanks. Thanks for the fact that they finally have someone with their head screwed on straight to lead them out of the muck of Alaska... into the GREATNESS, of Nowhere, Oklahoma! And in two days, the signing will commence... trumpets blaring... red carpet stretching out to the ring... and fanfare all around. And once the paper is signed, confetti shall fall, the people of Nowhere shall show their gratitude and praise... and I will move on to the main event, to walk away from 'NiN' as not only the mayor of Nowhere... not only the owner of BLOW... not ONLY the leader of the Hierarchy... but as the ONLY... World Champion... that Matters. It is time, Tifa... MY time. My time to claim the throne as the only being in professional e-parody-sports-entertainment that matters! MY time... our time.

Tifa: Well. That's nice, Axl. But I've got a turkey to baste, so if you don't mind...

Axl: Yes, the turkey! The centerpiece of the Thanksgiving meal... just as I am... I Am... I AM... the centerpiece of Brawlers on a Budget!!! And I've written a poem to describe just why that is so...

Tifa: Oh joy...

[Axl removes a small piece of paper from his trenchcoat pocket... and although there's not a window anywhere in the trailer's kitchen, wind lashes the coat into the air. He stares coldly at the paper...]

Axl: "Roses are red...
Violence is red...
My heart is red...
But is also black."

"Black as night...
Black as day...
Black as the blackest black..."

"Darkness engulfs me... fills me...
Hatred injests me... feels me..."

"I am... red."

"I am... black."

"I am... dark."

"I am... hate."

"I am..."

"Sassafrass."

Tifa: ... Can you please let me baste this turkey now?

Axl: What kind of stuffing did you use?

Tifa: That box you had lying up in the cabinet... why?

Axl: Uh oh... that's been up there since... well, since my dad was mayor.

Tifa: Well, that was only about a month or so ago...

Axl: I didn't say when he was LAST mayor... I mean, since he was inducted. Which was about when he 20...

Tifa: ... Well, stuffing usually doesn't get old very quickly, right? I'm sure it's still good.

Axl: You're probably right. ... On a totally unrelated note,

[Axl takes out two Turkey Pot Pies from his largest trenchcoat pockets.]

Axl: I bought these two Turkey Pot Pies from NFT.

Tifa: ... NFT?

Axl: Yeah, you know! Nowhere Fried Turkey!

Tifa: ...

Axl: And I was thinking. What if we let our guests eat the turkey you've cooked, and we eat these simple little pot pies? Let the BLOW superstars have the honor of feasting on the main course, ya know? I think they deserve it.

Tifa: Well... ok. So... let me baste?

Axl: Sure. Just one thing before I go...

[Axl turns to the camera, smile present as ever, as he puts one arm over Tifa's shoulder, and let's out a- ]

"Live from NOWHERE... it's November on Nick at Niiite!!!"

[As Axl looks into the camera, Tifa simply looks over at Axl with a quizzical expression.]

Tifa: Axl... the meal hasn't started yet. The actual show starts AFTER the Thanksgiving segment. Dip*beep*...

Axl: Hey! I resemble that remark! And anyhow, I say when the show starts, because I'm in charge of this thing! And ANYHOW, you can't say dip*beep*, because this is Nick. *Beeep*

Tifa: *Beep*hole.

Axl: Whore.

Tifa: *Beep*tard!

Axl: Slut!

Tifa: *Beep beeeep*!

Axl: *gasp* Tifa! I'm not... a FAGGOT!

Tifa: Oh, I didn't say you were a faggot! Of course, I COULD have said you were a faggot. I could have also said you were a pillow biter...

Axl: WHAT?!

Tifa: ... a sword swallower!

Axl: WHAT?!

Tifa: A fudge packer!

Axl: WHAT?!

Tifa: A guy who likes tah have sex with guys in the ass and then shove their penis down their throat!

[Cut to Nick@Nite suits.]

Executive: What the *beep* did we do signing these guys? Cancel it! Now!

Censor: Can you say "have sex with guys in the ass and then shove their penis down their throat" on Nickelodeon? Should I bleep that?

Executive: Bleep EVERYTHING at ALL that isn't PG or in the Bible! Now!

Censor: Right-o!

[Back to the segment.]

Axl: Now that's going TOO *beep* far!

Tifa: Aw, shut the *beep* up!

Axl: I'll kick your *beep*!

Tifa: Why don't you try, *beeeeeeep*!

Axl: Awww, farfin*ggin!

Tifa: ...

Axl: Was I just bleeped for saying farfin*ggin?

Tifa: ... I believe so. *Beep*, this mother*beep*ing, *beeeeeep*, son-of-a-*beeep* channel is *beep*ing *beep*ed up.

Axl: You *beeeeep* right.

November In Nowhere Logo

Tifa: So, you're in charge, eh?

Axl: Well...

Tifa: So tell me, why didn't it start when you did your little Saturday Night Live rip-off? But it DID start, oh, you know, about five minutes after the fact?

Axl: Well...

Tifa: Heh. Thought so. Anyway, go entertain the guests, and I'll take care of the basting and the rest of the meal, and when I say it's time, we'll start the meal. Capice'?

Axl: Welllll... *beep*it. OK. But remember. Turkey Pot Pies.

Tifa: Gotcha.

[And so, Axl heads into the living room, where the place is packed. As there are twenty guests in the trailer, and it only holds, like... two. There's mega-super-stars such as John Semen and The UndeadBaker, there's Mr. USA with his wife Karen USA, there's Big Poppa Dump, Samoan Jim, and hYpo... there's D-Jobberation X (Triple X and XBK), there's "Hardcore" Spark Pluggy and CodyDust... There's even Frook, Ledge, Randy "IQ Killer" Morton, RX Punk, and Rey Mysteriotypical. But while guys like the Ministry 2 Censor (Steven Richardson, Bill Mahoney, and "The Innovator of Righteousness" Tommy Dahmer) may be able to wrestle well, the tallest, biggest, and possibly GREATEST mega-super-star of them all is, without a doubt, The Great, Big, Tall Indian Guy, Who Can't Wrestle That Well, managed by his manager Punjabi-Ru, a much shorter Indian man who looks just a tad like a certain Vince *Redacted*.]

[The Great, Big, Tall Indian Guy, Who Can't Wrestle That Well, who we'll refer to as 'BOB', towers over every man in the room, and when Axl walks into the room, he's taken back a bit. He looks over his other new employees... some sitting around a TV set up on a TV tray, watching 'The Young and the Wasted'... some huddled around a seperate tv, playing the PlayBoxStation Wii-60 with its fancy shmancy "soul-control", which tracks a person's soul, controlling the game based on how enlightened a person is. VERY advanced. ... And then, there are many gathered on the couch, watching a football game. Nooo, not THAT football. SOCCER. Because let's face it, the only sport worth watching IS soccer! Right? ... Right? ...]

[Axl pulls a can of "Root Beer Lite" from an ice chest, pops it open, and knocks back a few gulps. He sets it down on the coffee table, and smiles to himself.]

Axl: Well men, allow me to introduce myself to you at this time. My name... is Axl.

John Semen: [looks over from his spot on the floor, playing the PlayBoxStation Wii-60] Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo-

Axl: Uh-

Semen: - YO!!! Dawggy g-skittlez! Home Insurance! Home Security! Home-

Axl: I'll send you back Home to Alaska, if you don't shut the *beep* up.

Semen: ... Home...

[Axl stares at Semen coldly.]

Semen: I'll shut up now.

Axl: As you all know by now, unless you're retarded, I am your new boss. I am the head cheese of BLOW, so anything you men need, I'll take care of.

Triple X: Can you do plastic surgery? This nose has been bugging me for too *beep* long.

Axl: You want to make it smaller?

Triple X: Nooo, man. I wanna make this thing HUGE! It's my entire gimmick! I lose this nose, I'm out of a job!

XBK: Can you do a seance?

Axl: You want to contact one of your relatives?

XBK: Nah, actually, I need to contact Jesus. He hasn't been returning my prayers. I was wondering if his service was cut off or something.

Axl: ...

Mr. USA: It's real! It's DAMN real!

Axl: What?

Karen USA: Oh, don't mind him. Ever since he signed with BLOW after being fired from WWABCDEFG for being hopped up on goofballs, that's the ONLY thing he's been saying.

Mr. USA: It's real! It's DAMN real!

Axl: I'm starting to have my doubts about this roster...

The UndeadBaker: Ashes to ashes... dough to dough. The thousands and thousands of the Bakery of Darkness followers shall forge together... and bring hell upon those who opose us... in a whirlwind of muffins, pies, creamhorns, and strudel. And in the end... all of our enemies... all of our foes... shall Ressst... innn... Yeeeaaasttt!!!

Axl: That's nice... Hey guys, you keep... doing whatever it is you're doing, and I'll go see if Tifa's got the dinner finished. Let's hope to god she does...

[Axl heads into the kitchen, where Tifa does indeed have everything prepared. She smiles at Axl, and gives the thumbs up. He smiles back, and heads back to the living room.]

Axl: Ok, gentlemen. Leeeeet's get ready to EAT!

[Axl and Tifa help eachother setting up the food in the living room, as a few of the guys gather around two different tables, while the others don't bother with the table, and simply eat where they were. While the trailer is packed with people feasting on turkey, two of those eating are eating a totally different form of turkey from the others. While the twenty members of the BLOW roster chow down on carved turkey, Axl and Tifa chomp away at their pot pies. This would prove to be the difference maker...]

Caption: 20 minutes later

Axl: Welp... that was stupid.

Tifa: ...

Axl: Maybe we can still get together some talentless jobbers or something.

Tifa: And all this time I thought that's what THESE guys were...

[Axl and Tifa stand over the now deceased bodies of all twenty EX-members of 'Buff Lads'. Seems as though that stuffing was expired after all...]

Tifa: You do know what this means, don't you Axl?

Axl: That I'm going to have to find a bunch of more guys to pay to job to me?

Tifa: Well... that's only if you walk out of November in Nowhere as owner of BLOW...

Axl: WHAT?!

Tifa: You see, when I drew up that contract between you and Paul E. Sherman, BLOW's former Chairman, it called for that, in the event of all of BLOW's original roster members simultaneously dying of food poisoning... you would face Sherman at an event of his choosing, in a MATCH of his choosing... for the ownership of the company.

Axl: As Frook might say... DAMN.

Tifa: Well, look at the bright side. We've got all of the rest of the food to ourselves.

Axl: I ain't touchin' that turkey... I'll have some of the UndeadBaker's strudel, though.

Tifa: ...

Axl: What?


Nowhere Fried Turkey


[NiN returns, this time to the present day. Our camera is set outside, where Mikey Styles and Scotty Whatbody are seated at the E-Z Break Announce Table, right beside the trailer's back door. Before them, the ring is set up, and on the other side of the ring a small set of bleachers, where the audience is ready and roarin' for this grand spec- ... wait a minute. Those are just a bunch of Axl's stuffed animals. And one homeless person. ... What a turnout.]

Styles: This is Mikey Styles, joined as always by Scotty "The Perverted Sicko" Whatbody.

Scotty: Where's the nickname come from all of a sudden? Besides, it should be something more like, Scotty "The man that all the women beg for, whether they be a nun or a whore, when I pull it out, they scream more, more, more, when they knock down the door lookin' to score..." ... Whatbody.

Styles: Scotty Gertner?

Scotty: Who?

Styles: Nevermind. Folks, tonight, we broadcast LIVE, on Nick at Nite, back on cable for the first time in months!

Scotty: Cable? Don't make me laugh. When you can't say words like *beep*, *beep*, *beep*, *beep*, *beep* ... what the... Hmm... son of a *beep*! *Beeeeep*! *Beep*in' son of a *beeep* *beep* *beeeeeep* *beep*in' piece of *beep* *beep*!

Styles: So much for freedom of speech.

Scotty: There goes half my act! How can I be funny if I can't swear? Now I know why Howard Stern went to satellite...Farfin*ggin! Hmm...There must be SOMETHING about that word...

Styles: I guess you can't do that on television, Scotty.

Scotty: ... Huh?

Styles: You know, the old Nickelodeon TV show... never mind. *Ahem*

Scotty: All I know is that there BETTER be some boobies in the XX Division title match. And hopefully not Nikki's... Or this entire trip to this *beep*hole of a state is going to be a total waste of my time.

Styles: Scotty! There are many fine, upstanding people here in Oklahoma!

Scotty: Oh yeah?

Styles: Yes.

Scotty: Name ONE.

Styles: Well... er... uh... let's see... oh, I know! Another great Commentator in the world of pro wrestling... Good ol' JR!

Scotty: Oh please, that bbq sauce loving, Boomer Sooner-in', tub of lard? Ch'yeah... right! This state is totally devoid of any great citizens! And the whole place is a bunch of cows and wheat and BLECH! I can't stand it here!

Voice: Well why don't you go back to where you came from? Because I just did.

Brad Pitt

[The camera quickly pans toward the ring, where, unbeknownst to Scotty who was busy ragging on Oklahoma, none other than Oklahoma native Brad Pitt is standing in the squared circle, microphone in hand.]

Pitt: I may be an activist, supporting the health and well-being of humans across the globe... but bah gawd, I'll open up a can of the ass whip on you my friend if you even say ONE more thing about the state I was born in!

Scotty: Oh come on! Pitt doesn't count! He wasn't RAISED here! His family moved out just as soon as he was born!

Pitt: To me, that doesn't matter! This is my birthplace, and I will defend it to the death against people like you who intended on defiling her good name!

Scotty: Ewww! I wouldn't even defile one of these stink hole redneck broads! Now... that fine piece of *beep* you always hang your arm around...

Styles: Careful, Scotty.

Pitt: Don't say another word about my beautiful Angelina! She's wayyy too sweet and innocent for the likes of you!

Scotty: Angelina Jolie? Sweet and innocent? ... You sure we're talking about the same chick?

Pitt: You've disgraced my home, you've disgraced my WOMAN!!! Scotty Whatbody... be prepared. Because by the end of the night? You WILL respect Oklahoma! And you will... Respect... The Pitt!

[Suddenly, smoke fills the ring... and when it dissipates, Brad has vanished without a trace.]

Styles: Well folks-

Scotty: What in the HELL was that?! Did... did Brad Pitt just threaten me???

Styles: I'd say so, Scotty. Well folks-

Scotty: There's NOTHING that'll make me "respect" Oklahoma, and the only thing, and I mean the ONLY thing I respect Pitt for is for having the honor of banging Angelina Jolie every night. Nothing more, nothing less.

Styles: In any event folks--

Scotty: NOTHING more, nothing less.

Styles: ... In ANY event... We're going to kick this show off with a match between Paul E. Sherman and Axl, as Axl pulls double duty in a match picked by Sherman himself. Sherman chose November in Nowhere as the event for this contest, as it would be the ultimate chance for Sherman to rub his victory in Axl's face, if he pulls it out.

Scotty: Damn Pitt... thinks he's so hot... well I'm hotter than he could ever dream of being. I'm so hot... I'm RED hot. I oughta write that down...

Styles: ... Sherman has also revealed part of the stipulations for this bout on his personal website. He has given Axl a tiny bit of leeway, as he has made the match a sort of "Pick Your Poison" match, wherein Sherman will choose one stipulation, and Axl will choose one of his own. The winner of this match will walk away with the BLOW job-

Scotty: The BLOW job? Now there's a stipulation I'm sure Axl will just love.

Styles: *AHEM*... the winner will become the Chairman of Buff Lads of Wrestling, and the loser will head back to their home state, whether it be Oklahoma or Alaska, empty-handed.

Scotty: Except for if its Axl. At least he'll still be the leader of the Hierarchy AND the mayor of Nowhere. ... Which isn't that big of a difference, but still...

Styles: We'll have the opening contest... when we return.


Goth Topik


[We return to the The Mayor's Trailer, where the Hierarchy is gathered in the bedroom... Joe, Jim, and Jon sitting on the bed, playing the Nerdtindo 65 and two quarters, while Tifa speaks with Axl, sitting face to face in a couple of chairs, Axl sitting with his stomach to the back of the chair.]

Axl: Tifa... I have an idea.

Tifa: I'm not sure if that's a good thing...

Axl: Haha, VERY funny... Paul E. Sherman, FORMER owner of BLOW, the man I've loathed with a PASSION for almost ever, ever since... since... well, since two days ago when I found out about the "Poisoned Stuffing Clause"... he's come to his senses. He's given me the chance to add any stipulation I want. And let's face facts, it's the only smart thing he's done in god knows when, because knowing him, whatever stip he comes up with is bound to be something like a Blindfolded Pillow Fight or Caged Spelling Bee, or some other boring ass crap.

Axl: So I've come up with a solution. An answer to not one but TWO dilemmas. Not only do we need something that can hold the crowd's interest past the opening bell... but seeing as I'm in the main event, set to take the OWTTM, I've already got a LOT on my plate. I want BLOW to thrive in Nowhere, but I also want to walk out of my backyard as the Only World Champion That Matters. So, I've decided to choose... [Axl looks toward Joe, Jon, and Jim] ... a substitute.

Tifa: ... You're kidding. Your master plan is to replace yourself with one of those goofs? Some jobber that's an even worse wrestler than... well... YOURSELF?

Axl: HEY! I resemble that remark!

Tifa: Didn't you just say that at the start of the show? Way to be redundant...

Axl: REGARDLESS!!!

Tifa: ...

Axl: And as far as my substitute, well... just grab those goons, and meet me outside. I'll make the introductions...

[Axl stands up from the chair and heads over to the door... but as he reaches for the doorknob, he turns his head... He looks at Tifa... standing now, arms folded, watching the Hierarchy finish up their game... Almost looking like the mother he never had. Axl wipes at his eye... He smiles... and heads through the door.]

Mikey Styles: Hello folks, we're back at ringside, and we are ready for the opening contest of November... in NOWHERE!

Scotty Whatbody: Don't sound so excited. Especially when referring to this dump of a city...

Styles: We may have just seen a spark in Axl's eyes, as he looked on at his agent, former personal assistant... and perhaps, future love interest?

Scotty: Don't hold your breath. Although, if I remember correctly, Tifa did used to have a dick...

[Suddenly, a bucket of slime pours down upon Scotty's head, covering him in the green, sticky stuff. He wipes his eyes, looking furious.]

Scotty: What the- ?!

Styles: Sorry Scotty, I forgot to tell you. Nick has set up a quasi-censoring device. Anytime you use a curse word, you'll be covered in the traditional Nick slime.

Scotty: ... You mean "you" in general... right?

Styles: Uhm, no, not really. You. As in you. It's sort of a way to test the device. It's also due to the fact that you're a proverbial fountain of foul language.

Scotty: ... I hate this show. Seriously...

["I Am Evil" by Darc-Soulz plays, and Axl comes through the back door - ]

Scotty: HA! Came through the back door! Something he's done plenty of times in the past, I'm sure! Get it?!

Styles: Scotty... ugh.

Scotty: Hey, the guy's responsible for putting me through this torture, he deserves as much ragging as possible. BOOO!!! Go back to Nowhere! ... I mean, STAY here in Nowhere, and let us go somewhere cool! Like... Anchorage!

[Axl heads to the ring, microphone in hand, waving to the... teddy bears and stuffed monkeys... As he steps into the ring... trenchcoat flapping in the breeze, shirt reading, simply, "I Am"... he smiles. And lifts the microphone to his lips.]

Axl: ...

[Axl lowers his head... looking at the canvas... almost as if his stare could burn a hole through the mat at any moment... he begins.]

Axl: Welcome...

[Axl looks back up, at the camera... now, with his face showing a smile.]

Axl: ... To Nowhere.

Axl: Welcome, ladies and gentlestuffedanimals, to the spectacle of the century. Two days ago, Thanksgiving Day, there was a ruckus. A ruckus like none before it. But today, here, on sacred ground, there shall be an even bigger, better, badder ruckus. A ruckus... of EPIC proportions. A ruckus that shall change the foundation of parody e-sports entertainment... forever. A monumental ruckus that will forever etch itself in the annals of profesional e-wrestling history!!! A ruckus, that could ONLY be called... November... in... NOWHERE!!!

Axl: Tonight, three of BOB's four titles will be on the line! Plus, my pals, the Hierarchy, will take on BOB's very own "Fallen Angel" in Kurt Angel, teaming with the returning, for one night ONLY, Team 4D!!! But, to kick things off... I did have the signing of the BLOW contract set for the opening segment, but seeing as how Tifa accidentally killed all of the roster members with poisoned stuffing, I've been forced to put the company on the line against its original owner, Paul E. Sherman. And to make matters worse, he gets to choose the stipulation.

Axl: Paul has atleast half a braincell, atleast, as he's given me the right to put one of my OWN stipulations in place. And as I already have a match... the main event, where I'm OBVIOUSLY walking away as the Only World Champ that Matters... I've decided that I'm going to have a substitute take my place. And with an entire company on the line, I'm going to need someone with ability. Agility. And POWER.

Axl: But instead of choosing just one replacement... heheh... why not THREE?! That's right. What if I chose... the Hierarchy? Brother Jim, Brother Joe, Brother Jon... vs that balding fatty, Paul E. SHERBET!!! Yes, that would be quite a match, wouldn't it? Paul E. ... Get your ass down here!!!

["Bodies" by Drowning Pool plays, and Paul E. Sherman comes through the back door... wearing a black trenchcoat, "BLOW" T-shirt, along with a laminated, BLOW event, V.I.P. pass tied around his neck. And his long, balding hair is covered by a BLOW cap. He looks down at Axl, with a bit of a smile playing at his lips...]

Styles: Hm... this guy seems awfully familiar.

Scotty: OH MY GOD!!! It's Paul E. Hurt-y-ously!

Styles: Who?

Scotty: You know, one of the Drudley- ... er, Team 4D's, former managers. At least, it seems like it would have been, what with them having enough managers to make up the population of a small country.

[As Paul E. steps into the ring, he grabs the microphone from Axl's hand, and walks toward the ropes, placing one foot on the middle rope, holding onto the top rope with hand, and speaking into the mic.]

Paul E.: You want EXTREME?!

Crowd: ...

Paul E.: You want ACTION?!

Crowd: ...

Paul E.: You want EXCITEMENT?!

Crowd: ...

Paul E.: You want DANGER?!

Crowd: ...

Paul E.: You want WRESTLING?!

Crowd: ...

Paul E.: You want BLOW?!

Crowd: ...

Homeless Person: How much ya got? *cough, wheeze*

Paul E.: Then baby... YOU GOT IT!!! B-L-O-Dub!!! B-L-O-Dub!!! B-L-O-Dub!!!

Crowd: ...

[Paul E. steps off from the ropes, and steps up to Axl, staring at the Metal God, eye to eye, nose to nose, with only the microphone between them.]

Paul E.: Axl... Bring your damn goons. Because I've got a surprise for you! Since you've already made your stipulation... I'm going to use mine... to add to it. I'm making this a four on four, elimination style tag match! You, and your "friends" Joey and Jimmy and Jonny and Jackie and Jolie and grandma Jenny Jack Jumpin' Bean!!! ... vs me, and the original BLOW "Trios Champions"; Nuge Ack, the EXTREME Ted Nugent impersonator... Lil' Dildo, the Italian scrapper in a phallic device costume... and of course, the man, the myth, the legend... Axl Rotten!!!

Axl: You're kidding me?!

Paul E.: Actually? Yeah, I am. The third guy's Big Daddy C, the big man in the big orange suspenders.

Axl: ... That's his gimmick? That he wears orange suspenders?

Paul E.: Well... yeah... "C"? As in Vitamin C? As in Citrus? As in-

Axl: I GET IT! Jeez, you're almost as lame as I am...

["I Am Evil" plays, and Tifa leads out Brothers Jim, Joe, and Jon, and as they walk into the ring, Tifa picks up a microphone. She, the three 'Brothers', and Axl, all stand before the now out-numbered Paul E. Sherman.]

Tifa: Paul... I'm sorry about this. But as Axl's agent, it's simply... business. . Joey... Jimmy... Jonny... Take care of it.

[A few moments pass by, and before long, Tifa turns around, only to find Axl sitting in a chair outside the ring... with the 'Brothers' standing Axl, acting as his security. Axl has a microphone...]

Axl: Tifa... remember back inside the trailer? When you were standing there... watching these guys play their game? Well... you looked so motherly. Like... like a mother that would do anything... ANYTHING... for her sons. Well... I know, deep down in my cold, black heart... that you understand how much these guys' Quadruple Decker Cage match means to them. It means just as much to them as my title match means to me. So, with them in a match... myself in the main event... well, that pretty much leaves you. I'm sorry Tifa... it's simply business. Good luck.

[Tifa turns her attention from Axl, to Paul E. ... with a look of fear in her eyes. Paul E. speaks into his mic.]

Paul E.: Well... this match is no longer a four on four tag match. It's not a three on one handicap match. It's one on one... and Tifa, I'm making it the sort of match that is near and dear to my heart... an EXTREME match, filled with carnage... chaos... BRUTALITY! Tifa... I'm making this a match an ECW match!!!

Styles: OH MY GOD!!! Could it be?!

Scotty: Could it be WHAT? What kind of match is that? A match where the competitors defy the odds by putting on a stellar contest, even though they're relegated to a crappy arena and abysmally small audience, but wind up being bought out by an extremely wealthy third competitor, who rapes everything that makes them what they are, puts on the highest grossing ppv of the year by showing highlight reels of their past matches... tempting the fans into wanting a match that could bring back their past glory... only to end up with a match shown on some third-rate fantasy, science fiction channel, putting an obese fat guy with giant man boobs and a guy who eats worms in place of the original two competitors who were the reason the match was so popular in the first place?

Styles: No, not THAT ECW! I'm talking about-

Paul E.: Extremely... Crappy... Warfare!!!

Scotty: What's the difference? There's nothing crappier than the Miz/Balls/Kelly love triangle... But what's this "Extremely Crappy Warfare" match?

Styles: Scotty, it's the most brutal match BLOW has ever put on Alaskan television. In one contest, the Mailman almost took off Nuge Ack's head with a pillow!

Scotty: ... A pillow? Was it even covered in barbedwire, or did it carry c4 explosives inside?

Styles: Well... no. But it did contain that especially prickly sort of feathers that some pillows have, where its not entirely comfortable to rest your head on them...

Scotty: ... This match oughta be hardcore. A hardcore SNOOZE FEST!

Styles: Paul E. stands in one corner, staring across the ring at Tifa... But wait, Paul E.'s pulling something out of his pocket! It's... a... cellphone?

Scotty: He must be trying to call for someone to get him out of this crappy city...

Styles: As Paul E. begins to answer the phone, Tifa rushes toward the former BLOW Chairman, and goes for a spear... but Paul E. just creamed Tifa in the face with the phone! It was a complete ploy!

Scotty: Either that, or he was tired of talking to whoever it was. Kill two birds with one phone!

Styles: Tifa falls to her knees, before falling against the turnbuckle... Paul E. rolls to the outside, with Tifa dropped into the corner. Paul E. reaches under the ring, and pulls out... a bottle of syrup...

Scotty: HE'S HARDCORE!

Styles: Paul E. rolls in, syrup in hand, and goes over to whack Tifa in the head with the bottle, but Axl's agent slides through Paul E.'s legs, stands up behind him, turns around, and- OH MY GOD! BackStabber! Tifa actually breaking out a pretty nifty wrestling move!

Scotty: ... Nifty? Whoa, wait, Paul E.'s reaching over for the dropped syrup bottle as he's on the mat... he grabs it, and squirts it behind him... syrup in the eyes!!! Tifa's blinded! ... Wait, how in the hell can you be blinded by syrup?! This match is sooo lame.

Styles: IT'S EXTREME!!!

Scotty: Yeah. Extremely LAME.

Styles: Tifa walks to the other side of the ring, trying to wipe the syrup from her eyes, as Paul E. rolls out of the ring again... he starts to reach under the ring... until he looks into the audience. He has a sick smile... as he RIPS one of the audience members out of the bleachers!!! OH MY-

Scotty: Mikey! Dude! It's a damn teddy bear!

Styles: PROFESSOR Teddy Bear, to be exact. See the tiny white labcoat? Anyway... Paul E. takes the bear inside the squared-circle, and as Tifa has her back turned, Paul E. gets in a straight shot to the back of Tifa's head, sending the agent crashing face first into the canvas. Paul E. heads back outside, and reaches under the ring, grabbing... a box of Lego bricks???

Scotty: Now this is just getting RIDICULOUS! Besides, where's mine? I have a few 'Legos' sets at home...

Styles: The popular Star Wars sets?

Scotty: Nah. Mainly sets based on various porn flicks.

Styles: ... They make those?

Scotty: I've got connections.

Styles: I see... Well, it seems as though Paul E. has created some sort of platform from the bricks... he's putting together some sort of staircase... Tifa is sitting in one corner, while the Legos-Stairs is set up right in front of her... and Paul E. is standing in the opposite corner... Suddenly, he charges, runs up the stairs, quite fast for a man of his size I'd have to say... and goes for a flying clothesline!!!

Scotty: AND A MISS!!! HA! All that time setting up those stupid bricks, and he ends up screwing it up! And now he's gonna end up losing to a WOMAN! An agent, at that! Stupid fu- ... er, fool. Friggin' slime...

Styles: Paul E. slams hard into the turnbuckle, Tifa rolling out of the way and to the outside. Paul E. turns around, before dropping to his butt. Tifa looks toward the lego bricks... and smiles?

- a few minutes later -

Styles: Well, it appears as if Tifa has rearranged the Lego Stairs, into a Legos Chair! She places the chair in front of Paul E. ... and heads to the other side of the ring, climbing up the post...

Scotty: Now THIS might just be extreme. Emphasis on MIGHT... if she doesn't screw it up every which way imaginable...

Styles: Tifa stands upon the post... staring across the ring at Paul E. ... Tifa points to herself three times...

Scotty: Tifa... Bon... Jovi? Wow, what does THAT remind me of...

Styles: And as soon as she points to herself for the third time... Tifa soars through the air... looking for a dropkick to the chair, that would break not only the Lego bricks apart... but possibly Paul E.'s face...

Scotty: ... Whoa. Holy *beep* ups, Batman... THAT WAS AWESOME- *clap, clap, clap clap clap*

Styles: SCOTTY! That was NOT awesome! Folks, if you missed it, Tifa just COMPLETELY blew the Bon Tifanator to the chair made of legos... in fact, she didn't even leave the turnbuckle... well, at least, not in the way she had hoped...

Scotty: You're telling me! That was SWEET!

[A replay shows of Tifa beginning to leap from the turnbuckle... but instead of being able to hit the move, or even attempt it, Tifa trips, off the turnbuckle, and collides, seemingly neck first, with the canvas.]

Scotty: YOU MESSED UP! YOU MESSED UP! YOU MESSED UP!

Styles: Scotty, I can't see WHY you think a poor young lady like Tifa possibly snapping her NECK, is even REMOTELY entertaining.

Scotty: Dude, she just doesn't belong in a wrestling ring.

Styles: Well, she didn't exactly BEG to be in this match. It was pulled on her by Axl, and I'm sure if she had her way, she wouldn't even be involved with this match. She's Axl's AGENT... not a wrestler.

Scotty: Hmph... still serves her right... Maybe if she wasn't dumb enough to become Axl's agent in the first place, then maybe she wouldn't have a broken neck right now! Dumb bimbo...

Styles: Well, in any case, Tifa's lying on the mat, motionless... and Paul E.'s just standing over her. I wonder what he could be thinking...

Scotty: Probably thinking which tastes better; macaronie... a lot macaronie... or alot of macaronie, covered with alot of ketchup. Fat pig...

[Axl walks over to the apron... placing his hands on the edge of the ring... He stands on the side opposite where Tifa has fallen, a worried look on his face... Paul E. smiles... and goes for the pin.]

Styles: 1... 2... 3, hegot'im!!! Paul E. Sherman is once again the owner of BLOW... of course, he's going to have to find an entirely new roster...

Scotty: I'm sure his "New Breed" will BLOW just as hard as the Originals...

[Axl rolls Tifa out of the ring, and carries her back into the trailer, leaving the Hierarchy surrounding the ring... Paul E. gulps... before scurrying out of the ring, and toward the trailer... he hops over the fence, as Joe, Jim, and Jon head through the back door.]

Styles: Well folks, our first contest has provided a fast paced start for what should be-

Scotty: - one of the crappiest events in history...

Styles: The Hierarchy will face Kurt Angel, and, for one night only, the reunited Team 4D... in the first EVER Quadruple Cell Match... NEXT.


new horizon


[We open once again inside the trailer, this time to the living room, where Tifa is lying on the couch... a brace around her neck, as Axl is... sitting on top of her, as if she's not even there.]

Tifa: I'm not part of the couch, you know! And your fat butt is hurting me even worse than I already am!

Axl: Did I just hear something? Sounded like... FAILURE!!!

Tifa: GET OFF ME! It's not my damn fault that you were afraid of getting your ass kicked twice in one show!

[Axl suddenly stands up, and turns around, looking at Tifa in anger.]

Axl: I AM NOT AFRAID!!! And besides, forget about BLOW. I'm walking into the Brawl, and I'm walking out as the Only World Champ that Matters! I know this city like the back of my hand, and I'm going to use that knowledge to obliterate each and everyone of my opponents! And as my agent, you better be on your knees and praying that I win, because if I don't? YOU'RE FIRED!!!

Tifa: How can I get on my knees when I can't even get off this damn couch?!

Axl: You'll find a way. You always do. Now... I'm gonna go take a leak. And you know why?

Tifa: Because... you need to pee?

Axl: No! Because THAT'S... how I roll!!!

[As Axl heads to the bathroom, we head back to ringside, where Mikey Styles and Scotty Whatbody are readying for the first EVER Quadruple Decker Cell Cage Match.]

Styles: Folks, we're just moments away from the very first EVER Quadruple Cell Match, four cages, stacked one on top of the other, and above them all, a red 'Z'. This 'Z' representing the greatest dimension known to man... home to the greatest band of wrestlers known to man. Yes, that's right - Dimension Zed's very own, Gunnzzz and Aliennzzz, the galactic version of the legendary Gunnzzz and YoYozzz.

Scotty: "Legendary"? Maybe over in Dimension Ted, or whatever, but here? Just another name for the Hierarchy, a bunch of talentless jobber hacks.

Styles: Well, I just copied it from 'BOB Today', so sue me. The monstrous structure is settled upon the ring, and the crimson Z is hanging high above... it's time for this battle to begin.

["Death... Taxes... and More Death" by Darc-Soulz hits, and the Hierarchy (Brothers Jon, Joe, and Jim) walk through the trailer's backdoor, all three in matching ripped jean shorts, black sandals, flannel shirt around the waist, long greasy hair, and black shirts... each shirt with either Jon, Joe, or Jim's name written across in red. Jim and Jon stand on either side of Joe as he throws his arms out at his sides in a mock-cross. The trio head down to the door of the bottom cage, and the ref lets them inside. As they make their way inside, and prepare for the match, "I Don't Like the Drugs" by Marilyn Manson plays on the stereo. A few moments pass... before someone finally makes their way outside from the trailer.]

Styles: Oh you've GOTTA be kiddin' me!

Scotty: Ha! This is almost funny... Almost.

Styles: A little person has just walked pass Scotty and I, wearing a red, white, and blue singlet, a pair of plastic angel's wings, and a bald cap.

Scotty: It's Squirt Angel!

Styles: Oh, you're a laugh riot Scotty...

Scotty: I know, I know. I'm seriously the only thing that keeps people coming back to BOB events and buying our DVD's and webcasts. I'm our franchise! Why don't I get paid what I deserve...

Styles: You do. You get payed just as much as any other BOB employee.

Scotty: But I barely EVER get paid, if at all!

Styles: Exactly my point.

["Squirt" Angel walks down to the cell, as the ref looks down at him with a quizzical expression... before letting him in. Brother Joe grabs a microphone.]

Joe: Heya there SQUIRT! Ya know, I could have sworn you were taller on TV... That must have been the REAL reason you were kicked out of heaven! There must have been a sign like they have at amusement parks that reads "You must me this tall to get in", and I guess you were just a LITTLE bit under the size requirement, EH?!

Squirt Angel: NOT FALSE! SO not false!

Joe: Is that all you can say?

Squirt Angel: NOT FALSE! SO not false!

Joe: I guess so. Well, it looks like you're all alone. What, did the Drud- er, "Team 4D" decide it was a lost cause, and leave you high and dry?

Squirt Angel: NOT FALSE! So Not-

[Joe decides he's heard the phrase enough times, so he simply lifts Squirt above his head, and drops him behind, flat on his face in a Gorilla Press Slam.]

Styles: WAIT A SEC! "Something that sounds similar to "Highway to Hell" but not enough to provoke a copyright lawsuit" by AC/Marvel plays on the stereo, and OH MY G- ... wait a second... it's an... elderly couple? One, a black man in a tye-dyed shirt with "Team 4D" written across, wearing black suspenders... and alongside him an old, fat, white woman, in a similar shirt and suspenders, along with a bandana over the top of her head, the Confederate flag emblazoned proudly... and a pair of duct-taped glasses over her face.

Scotty: It's Father Devan, and Mother Rubba!!! Team 4D's Parents are in... the... howssse!!!

Styles: Well, technically, either Father Devan or Mother Rubba aren't one of the guys' parent, as they're HALF brothers.

Scotty: Way to ruin a good joke, Styles...

Styles: I wouldn't go so far as to call it a 'good' joke, Scotty...

Scotty: Says you...

Styles: Mother Rubba and Father Devan get into the cage, and stand in front of the Hierarchy, as Joe gets back on the microphone...

Joe: So, it seems as if Team 4D had to send their PARENTS out to the job for them! And by 'do the job', I do mean, do the JOB! Because even if the real Team 4D came out here, they wouldn't stand a snowball's chance in HELL of defeating the greatest force in BOB Wrestling... the Hierarchy!!!

[Joe turns around and walks toward the ropes, where a camera is set up... he stares directly into the lens.]

Joe: And that goes for anyone, anywhere, that will ever step into the ring with us! We're here! We strike fear! GET USED TO IT!

Styles: Jon and Jim immediately jump on Mama and Papa 4D... choking them both out relentlessly. This is horrible! Can't anyone stop this?!

Scotty: Why? This is the most action that's happened on this show so far... probably as 'Extreme' as we're going to get. Two jobbers choking the life out of an elderly couple... Geez, I can't wait till MegaBrawl, when we'll be able to watch the normal level of sub-par action. This is like... SUB-sub-par...

Styles: But wait a minute! Here comes the real Rubba and Devan, the BROTHERS 4D. They storm through the crowd of stuffed animals, barge through the cell door, tossing the ref out of the way in the process, and rush into the ring! OH MY GOD!!! Brother Rubba just slammed one of the two chairs in this first cage, right on top of the unprotected skull of Brother Joe! Blood has sprayed from Joe's head, and the Hierarchy members crumbles to the canvas...

Scotty: Now THIS is action! Finally, some bloo-

Styles: Ok, I'm being told my Nick Censors to insure the audience that that is only ketchup dripping out of Brother Joe's head.

Scotty: Oh come ON! This channel reeks...

[A bucket of slime topples upon Scotty's head, as he looks just a tad ticked off.]

Scotty: Son-of-a...

Styles: Rubba holds one chair, while Brother Devan grabs the other, and a devestaing Con-Chair-To is delievered to the head of Brother Jim, which sends him falling right on top of Joe. Jon is trapped in the corner, as he looks at Team 4D slowly approaching him with chairs... when suddenly, Brother Jon hops onto the top turnbuckle, and flips forward with a lightning quick senton, which sends him colliding with both Brothers. The three men crash on top of Joe and Jim... and all five men are lying in a heap.

["I Don't Like the Drugs" plays again, and this time, the REAL Kurt Angel comes through the backdoor, wearing a plain white shirt, silver track pants, and a pair of polished, white sneakers. Kurt extends his arms out at his sides, as a round of canned cheering is played over the stereo... Angel then heads down to the cell, running, shoves the ref away from the door of the cage, and slides into the ring, immediately beginning to trade fists with Brother Jon, the first to stand up from the mass of fallen bodies.]

Styles: Right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left... RIGHT~! Kurt just rocked Brother Jon with the right fist, and sends a few more rights his way, backing him up into the corner. Kurt picks up a ladder, stands it up beneath the hole in the first ceiling, leading to the second level. Kurt climbs until he's right below the hole... but Brother Joe and Jim are able to grab ahold of the ladder, rocking it to and fro... OH MY GOD!!! Kurt just plummeted all the way from the top of the ladder to the outside of the ring! Brother Joe steadies the ladder, as Brother Jim climbs up... and makes it to the second level. And as you can see, each wall contains one table, Team 4D's specialty... and speaking of the brothers, both Devan and Rubba are back up, and they've tossed Brother Joe over the top tope to the outside, joining Kurt.

Scotty: I hope the Artists Formerly Known as the Drudleyz tear Jimmy and Jonny apart! It's that whole damn Hierarchy group's fault that I've been slimed not once but twice! I know the Writer's Strike is for, well, writers, but maybe I should start up a strike of my own... a Commentator's Strike! The pay would probably be just about the same anyway.

Styles: As Brother Jim sets up all four tables in the four corners of the second cage, Team 4D has layed out Brother Jon on the first. They both head up to the second cell, and as soon as they make it inside, Brother Jim begins putting the boots to the tandem... but they easily make it to their feet, before double irish-whipping Jim into one of the chain-link walls. Jim bounces his head off the wall, turns around... right into the 4D!!! Drudley Death Drop of Doom connects, right through one of the four tables. Brother Rubba shoves Brother Devan... what could he possibly call for?

Rubba: Devan... GET THE SABLE!!!

Scotty: What the... You've GOT to be kidding... Bwahaha!

Styles: In my five years of broadcasting... I've never, ever, seen this. Anything LIKE this! November in Nowhere has brought a first to the land of Parody...

[Devan and Rubba have actually set up, former wrestler and Playboy cover girl, Rena Mero, aka Sable. She sits on all four in the middle of the cage...]

Scotty: Well, Sable's basically had the talent of a wooden table for a while now... this pretty much just sums it up.

Styles: Rubba stands on top of two already set up tables, as Devan rests Brother Jim on Rubba's shoulders in powerbomb position... HOLY SHIH TZU!!! Jim just reversed the powerbomb attempt into a hurricanrana, sending Rubba smashing into Sable! Devan runs on top of the stacked tables, but Jim goes for a clothesline... Devan ducks under, turns around, and hits a reverse ddt, through the two tables! Both Brother Jim and Brother Rubba are knocked out in the second cage... in the first, Brother Jon has come to, and is climbing the ladder to the second cage.

Styles: And as he makes it into the second level, he begins trading closed fists with Brother Devan. Devan hits a vertical suplex on the Hierarchy member, sending him crashing back first with the steel mesh... On the first level, Kurt and Joe are also clashing with wild fists... Kurt tosses Joe into the ropes, and on the rebound, Kurt goes for the Heavenly Slam... which Joe slides out of, and rolls to the outside. Kurt chases after... as our camera heads back to Jon and Devan, who are now on the third level.

Scotty: By the time this match comes to the third cell, there won't be anyone left to climb up and grab the 'Z'. These guys are dropping like flies.

Styles: This third cage is lined with Angel's "specialty", ahem... paraphernalia.

Scotty: Ha! I'm sure when Angel disposes of Brother Joe, he's going to end up being lost on his way to the red 'Z' when he makes it up to the third level. There's no WAY Kurt's going to pass up that stuff just to win this match.

Styles: Nevertheless, Devan has just grabbed a bong shaped like a steel chair, and thwacks Brother Jon ontop of the head, sending him back into the wall, grabbing at the mesh wall. The chair bong shatters into a hundred pieces upon impact, sending glass scattering and falling to the cages below. As Devan comes in for the kill, Jon rips a lit doobie off the wall, and burns Devan right smack dab in the center of the forehead, causing him to grab at his head in anguish... Brother Jon goes to climb up the chain-link ladder to the fourth cage, while Devan's back is turned, but Brother D. is able to turn back around, with syringe in hand... before stabbing Brother Jon in the rear!!!

Styles: Thanks to the effects of the drug-filled needle, Jon falls off the ladder to the floor, convulsing for a bit before passing out, and Devan climbs up the ladder instead... Back on the bottom floor, Kurt has hit the Angel Slam on Joe, leaving him motionless... Kurt climbs to the second floor... the third floor... and finally the fourth... but just as he makes it to the fourth, he's turned around...

Scotty: DAMMIT! Brother Joe just hit the Stunner on Kurt! He's back in this thing!

Styles: And what a thing it's been, folks. Joe slams a few knuckles into Kurt's face while he's on the cage floor... Devan sees this as his chance... and begins to head up the ladder... when- OH MY GODDD!!!

Scotty: Holy crap! That... that HAD to be the biggest bump I've ever seen...

Styles: Folks... Brother Joe just SPEARED Brother Devan, ripping the ladder from the cage ceiling, crashing through the cage wall, and sending both men hurtling through the air... all the way into the audience of stuffed animals far below.

Scotty: NOW I know why those things were there. Besides the fact that we just couldn't get any real people to show up...

Styles: And Kurt has just stacked all the band instruments lining this cage's walls on top of eachother, creating a platform to replace the now missing ladder... Kurt climbs onto the very top of the ... and pulls down the red 'Z'! Kurt Angel has just pulled out the victory! Kurt, on his knees, holds the 'Z' high into the air, as silver and white confetti falls from the sky...

Scotty: Wait a minute... how's all of this stuff coming down from the sky when we're outside...

Styles: Er, we'll be back, right after THESE commercials!


XStation Wii60


[We return to Nowhere. The Exploding Holy Grail and Skull & Bones Society are already in the ring, along with Generic Ref and Nurse Heidi.]

Nurse Heidi: Stuffed animals, homeless guy, and the hundreds of viewers enduring this at home. This match is set for one fall and is for the Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Team Titles. Introducing first, in the corner to my left. They are the challengers.

Styles: Actually, viewers, they're in the corner to her right.

NH: Camera left! Sheesh.

SW: Well, everyone can see we don't pay her for her brains.

NH: Stuff it, Scotty!

SW: Boy would I love to! BWAHAHAHA!

NH: Standing, over HERE! (She points at Coma and Hallucination Boy, at camera left, or her right).

HB: TRAIN! *Dives*

Styles: Incoming! OH MY GOD! Suicide dive for no apparent reason!

NH: *Sigh* Just had to make this even MORE difficult. In this corner...

[Coma wanders to a different corner.]

NH: Oh, screw this! The guy in the tutu is Coma. The guy who dives and yells "Train!" is Hallucination Boy. They are the Exploding Holy Grail!

Homless Guy: Spare change?

[Heidi, like any true patriotic American, ignores the homeless man.]

NH: And their opponents. Standing over here! (She points at Lord Athackkimentham and Uber Vampire Warrior). They are the reigning, and defending, Brawlers On a Budget Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Team Champions of the worrrrrld wide web...the guy with the fangs, that's Uber Vampire Warrior. The guy with the corpse paint is Lord Athackkimentham. They are the Skull & Bones Society!

Styles: Alright. Our first of THREE title matches this evening.

SW: Man, we couldn't afford to use any more entrance music tonight? So much for pulling out all the stops. We make Ring of Honor look like they have a big budget.

Styles: I wouldn't go that far.

SW: We make TNA look coherent?

Styles: Nope, still don't buy that. They're totally incoherent regardless of what we do.

SW: We make the WWE look like they haven't been standing still for the past seven years?

Styles: Nope. Sorry. They still ain't moving.

SW: Hmm...so basically, all wrestling companies are doomed to sucktitude?

Styles: It seems like it. But at least we admit we suck.

SW: Yeah, but BOB sucks the best. Heck, we suck better than a Korean--

Styles: Scotty...you've got to censor yourself again.

SW: D'oh! Why am I suddenly nostalgic for 4 a.m. cable shows where we could swear?

Styles: We didn't have as many viewers.

SW: Potential viewers. Just because we're on TV doesn't mean people are going to watch.

Styles: Well how do you explain the popularity of "The Office"?

SW: I can't. Or Borat. Did people SERIOUSLY find that guy funny?

Styles: Not me. This one's ready to begin. Uber Vampire Warrior may look familiar to some viewers. He, of course, is best known as--

SW: The fattest vampire on the planet?

Styles: Well...he has had some weight issues.

SW: Was he sucking the blood of Michael Moore, Roseanne, Rosie O'Donnell, Kirstie Alley and that dude who directed the "Lord of the Rings" movies?

Styles: Could be. Uber Vamp--

HB: TRAIN! *Dives*

Styles: Misses that punch, as Hallucination Boy crashes to the mat all by himself.

SW: Or it was the worst oversell job ever.

Styles: Hallucination Boy grabs Uber Vamp's leg, but Uber Vamp kicking him away.

SW: What's Hallucination Boy got in his hand?

Styles: I can't see...

UVW: Cross! *Dives*

Styles: It's a crucifix! What offense by Hallucination Boy here.

UVW: *Hiss*

Styles: And there's a tag in to Coma. The Exploding Holy Grail were the longest reigning NGETFA tag champs in BOB history before being dethroned by this very team earlier this year at Send Us Money: Living In Sin!

SW: Now available at www.BOBwrestling.com! It's like iTunes, but on a way crappier budget.

Styles: I thought you'd make a comparison to adult video-on-demand Web sites.

SW: I would, but it's cable, and I don't say things that could possibly offend anybody. Because sex is evil, you know. The only "adult" sites I visit are Bible study Web sites. Did you know the end is near, Styles?

Styles: They've been saying that for 2,000 years, Scotty.

SW: They have? Awww. You mean it NEVER ends?

Styles: Not yet.

SW: Oh well. More pointless wars and less freedoms to look forward to. And more THREEDOM to look forward to!

Styles: They couldn't even get booked on this show!

SW: Randall Mooby! Little Good! Alex Smith! They're the future of this industry.

Styles: Coma's got a crab armbar locked in here. Coma is one of the most unique wrestlers you'll find in BOB.

SW: Yeah. Coma's so dumb he takes the IQ out of unique.

Styles: Coma is unue?

SW: That's what I said.

HB: TRAIN! *Dives*

Styles: And Hallucination Boy just inserted himself into the match, blindsiding Uber Vamp with that clipping. Uber Vamp's back up quickly and elbows Coma in the head.

SW: That won't hurt Coma. There nothing left in his brain to damage.

Styles: The original Head Trauma Boy is thrown to the floor by Uber Vamp. And Uber Vamp's got Hallucination Boy by the hair. Uh oh. Belly to belly to the floor onto Coma! Oh my GOD!

SW: Lord A's in the ring. The devout Santanist looks like he's about to fly like Santa and Rudolph!

Styles: TOPE!

SW: Uh-oh. It's a highspot. You know what that means?

Styles: What?

SW: It's time for a commercial!

Styles: Are you sure?

SW: Yeah. Look.


Styles: Welcome back to November In Nowhere. We are in the middle of our tag team title match. Hallucination Boy just went for a ride in that big back body drop by Lord A.

Coma: (Bullhorning) Rescue 911 was a dirty job! Neep! Rescue 911 was a dirty job! Narf!

Styles: Where did Coma get that bullhorn?

SW: He better not have stolen that from Alex Smith. Although, that would make for a good feud. Imagine Threedom beating the former tag champs. Then they could maybe, one day, beat the actual tag champs and bring me more money.

Styles: Generic Ref is distracted and Lord A is screaming at him to make the count. Lord A, a little peeved, now looking to inflict some more damage on Hallucination Boy. Neckbreaker connects.

Coma: (Bullhorning) Pass the turkey feathers, How Now Purple Cow, poink!

SW: Will somebody get that away from him?

Styles: Did Threedom make the trip?

SW: Yeah, right. You think they're going to drive halfway across the country when they aren't even booked?

Styles: BigBOSS wasn't paying for the gas, huh?

SW: Nope.

Styles: Coma's in the ring, thankfully leaving the bullhorn outside. Fireman's cobra flurry!

SW: *Sigh* That's not even a real move! I know I should be used to this by now...but man.

Styles: Cover! One! Two and no. Toe uppercut connects on Lord A. That may have knocked Lord A out. Tag in to Hallucination Boy. He's climbing the ropes.

HB: TRAIN! *Dives*

Styles: And he connects! He just took Lord A down. And...that almost looked like a dropkick.

SW: And that almost gets him a three count. Key word: almost. There's no doubt the superior team has the gold now.

Styles: We'll see if they can keep it. Lord A ducks and...Dasher Cutter! Lord A needs to get the fresh man in the ring.

SW: I assume you're not referring to his smell. He smells like a dead and bloated corpse. Actually, he kind of looks like one, too. Here comes the cold tag.

Styles: Uber Vamp gets the tag in. Clothesline! There's a back suplex for Coma. Hallucination Boy kicking away on Uber Vamp, but Uber Vamp's got him. Nice suplex by Uber Vamp there. Impaler coming up!

SW: Coma's got a Teddy bear.

Styles: Teddy Bearinator! Oh, and what a dropkick by Lord A, he just nailed Coma.

HB: TRAIN!

Styles: And Coma just tripped over his own partner and fell out of the ring. Luckily, on his head, so he won't be hurt.

SW: Lord A's gotta be nearly unstoppable this time of year. It's officially the Christmas season. They don't call it Black Friday for nothing. All the Santanists draw from the greed of humanity. It gives them power.

LA: BUY! BUY! BUY! BUY!

Styles: Right now, Lord A looking to put out Hallucination Boy's lights. Santanic Slaughter coming up! But Coma with a...butt uppercut stuns Lord A.

SW: Nothing like getting hit in the face with an *beeeeep*.

[Slime falls on Scotty.]

SW: *Beep*!

[More slime falls on Scotty.]

Styles: What is Hallucination Boy doing? It looks like he's...

SW: Whoo-whoo. It's time, once again, for everybody to come aboard the....Hallucinatioooooooon Train! Chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga...

Styles: I thought this move was an urban legend! Here it comes! Hallucination Boy charges!

HB: TRAIN! *Dives*

Styles: Lord A seems oddly unaffected by not being hit by that move. Uber Vamp's got Coma! Impaler! Lord A's got Hallucination Boy! Santanic Slaughter! Oh MAN! One! Two! Three! THEYGOTTHEM!

NH: Here are your winners, and STILL Not Good Enough To Fight Alone, the Skull & Bones Society!


[A shot of an eclipse.]

Voice: (Whisper) Save enough money to buy MEGABRAWL...save the world!

Narrator: MEGABRAWL, live December 15th, only on BOB-On-Demand at www.bobwrestling.com!


[Back once again in Nowhere. Misty Waters and Nikki Mantle are in the ring with Nurse Heidi.]

NH: The following contest is for the T&A XX Division Championship. Introducing first, originally from New Jersey, now residing in...ugh...iAd country...the challenger. This is Misty Waters. And her opponent. From the back alleys of the softball diamond...the reigning, and defending, Brawlers On a Budget T&A XX Division Champion, Nikki Mantle.

Styles: Can we even talk about what Nikki Mantle did at our last event, Massively Cool?

SW: What, the amateur abortion on Anne Zeno's uterus? That?

Styles: I guess we'll leave it at that. Nikki Mantle is one lesbo you don't want to mess with.

SW: No ship.

Styles: Ship?

SW: Exactly.

Styles: Alright. Trey?

Trey Vincent: Greetings tuckfards.

SW: Trey! So great to see you! I hadn't seen you yet.

TV: You saw me at the production meeting, what are you talking about?

SW: I did?

TV: Oh, right, you were sleeping. Forgot.

SW: It was a long drive to Nowhere.

TV: I really want to know how we're making money off this event, boys. Because those stuffed animals look poor to me.

Styles: I hope it's from Nick advertising. Because the gate is zero.

TV: How about that Misty Waters. Isn't she foyne?

Styles: She's a great wrestler. She once held the Swiss Army Belt.

TV: BWAHAHAHA. She beat that scrub, Sir Zeno, who I ran out of this federation. Man, I was just rewatching Send Us Money: Explosion Of Injuries, also available for download at www.BOBwrestling.com. Do you remember Sir Zeno's first night in BOB?

Styles: Hmm...no.

SW: I remember Sarah's bush! Oh baby!

TV: Huh?

SW: Remember? Sarah "The Jobber Slayer's" outfit?

TV: I DO remember that! Wow. I need to watch that tape again. When Misty isn't around. Get it?

SW: I get it.

TV: Anyway, my point was, that night I ran Sir Zeno into raw sewage in a shopping cart! Guess we should've known he'd try to assassinate me sooner or later.

Styles: That's right, fans. Trey Vincent was allegedly put into a coma by Sir Zeno after he pulled a Lee Harvey Oswald.

Coma: The poink?

SW: Coma's still out here?

TV: Let's just make it clear...I was not in Coma, the wrestler. I was in A coma. Now. For all the new BOB viewers, you're listening to the voice of the greatest sports entertainer in the biz today, Trey Vincent. BOB's Franchise Player. And a former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. And it's only a matter of time before I am the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS.

SW: How do you think Misty's doing so far?

TV: It's quite the match. Styles, you're not calling the match very well. How did you get this job?

Styles: If I could get a word--

TV: No. Sorry. Not while I'm here.

SW: Why aren't you talking in third-person like you used to?

TV: We signed this new guy who wanted in his his contract that he'd be the only guy constantly referring to himself in third person.

Styles: Oh, The Great?

TV: No, no, no. Somebody else. All in good time, Styles. Big announcement coming at--

Booming Voice: MEGABRAWL!

Styles: *Sigh* The voice is back.

TV: Actually, we have a LOT of big announcements coming up at--

Booming Voice: MEGABRAWL!

SW: Really? What else?

TV: Well...I'm not going to spoil it, but, I will give you guys a few hints. Oh! Nice one, Misty!

Styles: Beautiful plancha by Misty Wat--

TV: Didn't I just say that in less words? Fackjuck. We've only got two minutes alloted to this match. Don't interrupt. So...do you remember a little federation known as World Championship Wrestling?

SW: Oh, yeah!

TV: Well...they made a lot of mistakes. But there is one thing that Eric Bischoff did that I plan to emulate in the new year, to propel BOB to new heights.

SW: Is that the clue?

TV: Let's put it this way. There are a lot of young guys on this roster who suck.

SW: ... And?

TV: That's the clue. I hear guys like Axl bitching about the old guys. What is he, 15? I'm just turned 30 this year! And you know...I have no frickin' idea how old Studnuts or Harker is, to be honest. Odd that in all the time we've been together, I haven't found that out. Anyway. The majority of guys we call legends in this business didn't even make a name for themselves until they hit their 30s. Let's face it...young guys can NOT get over in this business.

SW: Especially not with you booking.

TV: Hey! Watch it, Whatbody.

SW: BWAHAHAHA!

Styles: High knee--

SW: What about Misty's hiney?

TV: Hey, that's my woman...potentially. Now. Just to finish up quickly, since I know time's running out here. Axl thinks things are bad now? Just wait until he sees what happens next year. BOB is changing in 2008.

SW: (Annoyed) Again?

TV: Yes, again! Trey Vincent is back in charge. Except on the BOB On-Demand events for some reason. Michelle is vice president in charge of booking or some crap title like that.

Styles: Speaking of Michelle--

TV: Crap! She's already here?

Styles: Generic Ref calling for the bell.

SW: Michelle just hit Nikki with a candlestick!

TV: Oh, the things I could do to Misty with that...

Styles: Um, Trey? Nickelodeon...

TV: I implied, I didn't say.

SW: I'd *bleeeeeeeep*

[Scotty is slimed.]

TV: BWAHAHAHA. Green is your color, Scotty.

NH: The winner, as a result of a disqualification, Nikki Mantle.

TV: Well, my ex-wife Michelle just cost my future girlfriend, and possibly my next ex-wife, the T&A title! This calls for an announcement. Heidi! Microphone.

NH: If the next words are bend over...

TV: Who am I? Steve Studnuts? No way, Heidi. We're ancient history. Viewers at home, since my lovely ex-wife wants to stick her nose into my business, I say...at MEGABRAWL, how about we have ourselves a match. You and that disgusting turd you call Pigeon, against me and Misty!

Michelle: It's Misty and I!

TV: What? Me and Pigeon against you and Misty? That doesn't make any sense.

Michelle: The LINE was Misty and I!

TV: Huh?

Michelle: Grammatically! I is correct is correct!

TV: No you isn't you isn't.

Michelle: Fine! You're on! Pigeon and I vs. you and Misty Waters. Only on MEGABRAWL!

TV: I thought you wanted me and Pigeon against you and Misty?

Michelle: Argh!

[Misty charges at Michelle and they roll around the mat as Trey watches. Pigeon comes in the ring behind Trey.]

Styles: Pigeon Drop on Vincent! No! Trey's got him hooked. OH MY GOD! Through The Roof! Fisherman-buster!

SW: Yes! Pigeon just got dropped!

Styles: Misty beans Pigeon with the candlestick! Fans, it's chaos. Trey and Misty are left standing. We'll be right back with the main event!


[A shot of an eclipse.]

Voice: (Whisper) Save enough money to buy MEGABRAWL...save the world!

Narrator: MEGABRAWL, live December 15th, only on BOB-On-Demand at www.bobwrestling.com!




SW: Oh, and by the way, Heidi...(pointing his thumbs at himself) main eventer.

NH: Oh look. A guy with two thumbs I don't give a crap about!

Styles: Welcome back fans! The men who will be competing for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS are scattered all around Nowhere, I understand. So now, let's go live via satellite, to our very special guest ring announcer, Debbe Dunning!

NH: Who?

Styles: The woman who used to play Heidi on "Tool Time."

NH: What? Another Heidi? But she'd OLD! She's like, 41!

[Cut to gray static.]

Styles: Thanks for joining us, Debbe! Star of "Home Improvement," here on Nick...uh...

[Gray static.]

Styles: Um...I believe we're experiencing technical difficulties.

NH: They really didn't get her, did they?

SW: Let's see if we can get some scrambled pay-per-view.

Styles: Well, Heidi. I guess we'll have to settle for you.

NH: Oh, Styles! *Sniff*

Styles: What? Oh, sorry. You're great, Heidi. Really!

NH: You mean that? *Sniff*

Styles: Sure.

NH: OK. Ladies and gentlemen, it's now time for the NOWHERE--

SW: Debbe is way better than you!

NH: Shut up, Scotty!

SW: Hahahahaha!

NH: NOWHERE CITY BRAWL! Thirteen wrestlers and alleged wrestlers will fight around the streets of Nowhere, Oklahoma, until we get down to the final four men. Then, they will go on top of the...uh...(she fumbles through her index cards looking for the name of the building) Printed every PM except THAT one. Genius...(she keeps looking)

SW: You suck!

NH: Hey! You're in the match! You can't heckle me!

SW: (Points thumbs at himself) Main eventer, baby!

NH: Argh! Why did you have to pick HERE to start the match? Alright. Introducing first...

[Cut to Pete Trable.]

NH: XFactor Pete Trable!

PT: Yo. Thirteen men, thirteen other victims
So it's time to issue a dictum
The next ONLY WORLD CHAMP, whose your pick?
Pete Trable...the man with the biggest--

[Cut to Kevin the Pyromaniac.]

Kevin: Ick?

NH: Kevin The Pyromaniac!

Kevin: FIAHHH~!

[Cut to Booger.]

NH: Next, making his BOB wrestling debut, Booger!

[Booger holds up a spoon for the camera.]

Booger: Nobody better play grab *beep* or you will...be...SPOONINATED!

[Cut to XXXtreme Machine.]

NH: Next...sadly, he is a former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. This is XXXtreme Machine.

XM: im so harkor!!!

Styles: Why does he keep telling everyone he's Seth Harker?

XM: nooo!!! im ont sith u *beep*r! i m teh mosheen of mosheens!!! im xxxt3eme!

[Cut to Insano Mano.]

IM: Cogida.

Caption: ****.

Styles: Did he just swear in Babelfish?

NH: This is Insano Mano!

[Cut to Undietaker.]

NH: This is the Undietaker.

Undietaker: They will all....DRESS...IN....FLEEECE! (His eyes roll back in his head.)

[Cut to Pigeon.]

NH: Next. This is Pigeon!

Pigeon: (Flapping his arms) What about ME? What about PIGEON!

[Cut to Massive Man Rendition First.]

NH: He holds the Swiss Army Belt and is a former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. One-half of Regeneration-X, this is Massive Man Rendition First!

MMR1: Just remember...we're back...

[Cut to Jim.]

NH: Next. The other half of Regeneration-X, Jim "Totally Packaged"!

Jim: And we're better than y'all!

[Cut to a cloud of smoke.]

NH: Up next. He is a former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, this is douja!

douja: (Voice) *Coughcough*cracka*coughcough* da names douja, and i'll *beep* yo' crew up! who are dey?

[Cut to Axl.]

NH: Next, he is also a former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, Axl!

Axl: I am... the Metal God. I Am... your Savior. I AM... better than you. The sooner you realize this... The sooner you may join... The Hierarchy.

[Cut to Dr. Silaconne M. Plants.]

NH: Introducing next...from Naples, Italy. He is a true legend in this business. Everyone, please, give it up, for--

SW: Heh, I'm sure YOU'VE given it up PLENTY of times for him.

NH: ...

SMP: DOC-TOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR! SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIL-A-COOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnneeeeeeee.

[Five second delay.]

SMP: M. Plants.

[Cut to Death.]

NH: And finally...he is the reigning, and defending, ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS! This, is, Death!

Death: Big Bony, definitely, in...da...hellhooooooooooooole!

Trey Vincent: Stop the show!

NH: What? Now what, Trey?

TV: Pardon me, Nick@Nite viewers. But I cannot allow this match to go on.

Studio Audience: *Gasp*

TV: Yet.

Studio Audience: Awwwww! *Polite clapping*

Announcer: BOB was taped before a live studio audience!

TV: Right. So...Trey Vincent, Steve Studnuts and Seth Harker are not going to get involved at all in this match, first off, just so we're clear. However, as I am the Vice President In Charge Of Everything, I cannot allow this match to go any further. Undietaker! Where are you?

[Undietaker pops out from "Undie Wearhouse."]

Undietaker: Me?

TV: Yes, you. Get over here.

[Undietaker walks over to Vincent.]

TV: Alright, Booker Brown.

[He holds up a pair of boxer shorts with some writing on it.]

TV: it seems to me that this contract here...says that you will be paid, not by Brawlers On a Budget. But you will be paid for by some guy by the name of Sir Zeno. And last time I checked, I fired the HECK out of Zeno earlier this month at Massively Cool. NOW AVAIALABLE!

Undietaker: Was that even an English word there?

TV: Yuck fou! So...what this means, Taker...is that you are being "Taken" out of this match. Because...you don't work for me. And thus, you're not getting paid by me. And thus...I will not be sued by you if you get injured. And I guess, ultimately, this means you are unemployed. So, Heidi. Make the announcement.

NH: Um, OK? Ladies and gentlemen, due to being fired, The Undietaker has been eliminated from the Nowhere City Brawl!

Undietaker: This isn't over, boy!

TV: I've taken your valet. Now I've taken your job. Sucks to sniff dirty undies now, don't it?

Undietaker: No, not really. *SniffffffF* Ah, that's the stuff. You'll be hearing from Jerry Lawyer.

TV: Oh no! He sues!

SW: Hey! Where are my introductions?

TV: Oh, did I interrupt?

SW: No, this stupid blonde nurse forgot me! I've got to get that Brad Pitt son of a you-know-what!

TV: Heidi?

NH: What? I wasn't even supposed to be doing the intros! That Debbe Dunning girl was!

TV: She's fired!

NH: Hooray!

TV: Heidi, I need a commentator. Go help out Styles. Or just sit around and be your sexy self. Whatever works for you since I really don't know how Axl plans to use you.

SW: I'll use her. BWAHAHAHA!

NH: Can *I* be inserted into this match?

TV: No. Go on, finish up.

NH: Introducing next.

[Cut to Brad Pitt.]

NH: A guy who WISHES he looks like this.

SW: Hey!

NH: Scotty Whatbody!

[Cut to Scotty Whatbody.]

SW: See you next Tuesday, Heidi.

[Cut back to Brad Pitt.]

NH: He is the sexiest man on the planet.

TV: Me?

NH: BWAHAHAHAHA! Price...less! No, no. This is Brad..."Throw a brown wig on my head, pretend I'm Angelina Jolie and bend me over the nearest chair, why don't you?" Pitt.

SW: Hey, Pitt! Check this out!

[Scotty holds up a vile of something red.]

SW: This is for your wife.

[Scotty holds up a vile of something white.]

SW: And since she likes to wear bodily fluids as jewelry, I've got others, too! She can wear this around her neck!

[Scotty holds up a vile of something yellow.]

SW: Hey, Booger, can I borrow your spoon in the next commercial? I have one last vial to make. And it's gonna be brown and corny.

BP: Oh, you're just asking for it, aren't you, Scotty?

SW: Bring it on, Pitt! I'm gonna level you so badly, you'll think your name is Katrina, and you're gonna have to rebuild yourself! BWAHAHAHA!

BP: Ohh...you...

SW: Hey, did I tell you I dressed up at Halloween as Angelina's brother just so she'd make out with me!

BP: You're DEAD, Scotty!

Death: He doesn't look very dead to me.

BP: What are you, some kind of expert?

Death: Oh, you could say that...

BP: Scotty, I'm so going all "Fight Club" on your behind! Prepare for Project Mayhem!

Styles: Oh no! Don't say may--

[Sudden cut to black.]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Caption: Six Months Later.

[Fade back up on Nowhere.]

Styles: Where were we? Right, time for a commercial break. We'll be right back! Undietaker's already been eliminated! What's going to happen next? Oh my GOD!


[We return, outside 'Taco Hell', the numero uno Mexican restaurant... due to it being the only one. Insano Mano is trading fists with Pigeon, when XXXtreme drives by on a lawnmower. ... Yup.]

Styles: Folks, our main event has just begun, and it's already become HARDCORE!

Nurse Heidi: Why is XXXtreme Machine riding on a lawnmower?

Styles: Uhm... because he works for Taco Hell as their gardener?

NH: Ah.

Styles: XXXTreme heads toward Mano and Pigeon, but the dueling duo leap out of the way... and- OH MY GOD!!! Kevin the Pyromaniac just leaped off the top of Taco Hell, with a flaming clothesline! He just took XXXtreme right off the lawnmower! And now the lawn's on fire!

NH: Well, that's another way to take care of overgrown grass...

Styles: The fire has engulfed the resteraunt's front lawn. Pigeon has Mano up over his shoulder... and he sends Mano sailing through the air, crashing through the window and into the building with a javelin-like throw. Inside, Insano Mano rolls across the floor, right into a waitress, carrying a tray of burritos! The burritos fall all over the prone body of Mano!

NH: Wow, I'm sure they must be... mildly hot. Or something...

Styles: Mano stands up, picks up the tray, and as Pigeon steps through the window, Mano whacks him in the head. Pigeon grabs his sore head, and looks up at Mano... before charging toward him, and spearing him... right through a table, filled with nachos, qeusadilas, and chimichangas. Salsa, melted cheese, and a glop of guacamole spill all over Mano, as he begins to look like a Mexican dinner.

NH: He has beef and cheese and all kinds of various other bits and pieces of Mexican cuisine covering him... I may have to have a little taste.

Styles: ... Of Mano?

NH: Of the food COVERING Mano... pervert.

Syles: Outside, XXXTreme has managed to stand up from the blazing lawn, and plant Kevin on top of the lawnmower with a spinebuster. He kicks the mower through the front door of the resteraunt... sending him reeling all the way toward the front counter. Pigeon extends his arms out at his sides... just in time to be rolled over by the lawnmower carrying Kevin.

Styles: Insano sees Kevin covering Pigeon via the lawnmower, and looks to be having an idea... OH MY GOD! Mano just hit a Flying Twister Oklahoma-roll Tulsacanrana Mooninite Star Splash version 2.0!!! FROM the top of the grill! Mano's landed atop the motionless Kevin... pinning Kevin, who in turn is actually pinning Pigeon with that lawnmower! A fat Mexican cook with a moustache comes into the scene, and takes off his uniform-

NH: We don't wanna see that flabby man's stomach! We've already had enough man boobs with Big Daddy What's-his-face!

Styles: -to reveal a referee's shirt.

NH: ... Oh. Sorry. Nevermind...

Fat Mexican Cook: Uno! Dos! Tres!

Styles: Both Kevin AND Pigeon have been eliminated! Mano lays on top of the both of them, on his back, exhausted. And here comes XXXTreme, with a cardboard Mexican bandit, taken from the front lawn. The mascot is burnt a bit... charred, from that lawn fire. But XXXTreme is hell bent on slamming that piece of cardboard into Mano's head.

Styles: Mano slowly rolls off the heap consisting of Kevin, Pigeon, and the lawnmower... before crashing to the floor. XXXtreme lifts the cardboard cut-out above his head... before... OH MY GOD!!! Axl just came up from behind XXXTreme with a black bat, cracking the bat clear in two over XXXTreme's head! Revenge for XXXTreme taking the OWTTM from Axl... albeit the fact that the win was with some assistance from the iAd...

NH: Some?

Styles: Ok, ok, alot! XXXTreme crumples to the ground... and Axl drapes Mano over XXXTreme's carcass, before heading out of the eatery... the ref counts; uno... dos... TRES!

NH: You CAN count in English, you know...

Styles: Mexican, English, either way, XXXTreme Machine has just been taken out of this match. As Mano regroups, we've got to head to a commercial. We'll be back, to continue this Brawl, right here... in Nowhere!



[Back to Nowhere, we now join the action outside of FedsEx...the town's...well...adult store. Nick's gonna love this...]

Styles: Welcome back everyone. I have an idea why we're here...

NH: For cheap Web hits about, can I say 'sex toys' on Nick?

Styles: I think so.

[Scotty Whatbody is seen peeking out a window and reading from some sort of magazine.]

NH: Is he hiding from Brad Pitt in there? What a loser.

Styles: I'm just glad that you can't see the bottom half of that window.

NH: Ewww.

[Cut to an alley. douja is standing there.]

Axl: Yo, douja.

douja: whut?

Axl: I'll give you a bag of grass if you lay down for me.

douja: fo' real?

Axl: Sure.

douja: hold on. where is it?

Axl: It's right here.

[Axl holds up a blurred plastic bag.]

Axl: And my buddy at Rollin' Rollin' Rollin' will hook you up with all the papers you need.

douja: i'm gettin' paid eitha way, cracka.

Brad Pitt: Excuse me gentlemen. Have you seen Scotty Whatbody?

[Axl turns around and scans the street.]

Axl: If I know Scotty...I'd bet he's at the--

*CRASH*

Voice: Yoink!

BP: What was that?

[They turn around. Someone is running down the alley.]

BP: That guy just stole your baggie.

Axl: No worries. It was just pencil shavings. I wonder who that was.

Styles: Maybe we'll find out at MEGABRAWL! Live On-Demand December 15 at www.BOBwrestling.com!

[Axl puts a foot on douja's chest.]

Axl: Hmm. Say, Brad. You wouldn't happen to have a referee jersey on you, would you?

BP: Sorry, no. Just a leather gimp outfit.

Axl: Really?

Voice: Fag!

BP: Was that Whatbody?

Axl: Yeah. He must be at FedsEx. It's an adult toy store.

BP: Really? Sweet. I should pick up a new collar for Angelina while I'm here. Thanks, guy.

[Brad runs down the street.]

Axl: Hmm...Well. One. Two. Three. My town, my rules.

Styles: douja's been totally eliminated!

NH: All over pencil shavings. How sad. See kids, this is why you should just say no. You'll become just like douja. Knocked out by a mysterious assailant and then pinned in a dirty alley in a fourth-rate town.

Styles: Hold on, we're moving. And yes, we're back at FedsEx. But Scotty's gone! Oh no! Where could Scotty be now? He sure was talking tough, but he's not in any rush to fight with Brad Pitt.

NH: Pitt must have a no-bump clause in his agreement. And speaking of which...how much is HE getting paid for being here?

Styles: Hopefully, he considers this part of his charity work. Now where are we going? Back to Taco Hell? Something's going on...

[Back to Taco Hell, Steve Studnuts and Seth Harker have arrived.]

Styles: The incurable Apathy disorder have arrived? I thought they weren't going to interfere?

NH: They're born liars. I'm not in the least surprised.

Styles: Where's Trey?

[Cut to a FTE Gas.]

TV: I'll have that pack of condoms and your *beeep*, baby...

[The girl's mouth drops open.]

Cashier: Get out of here before I call the cops.

TV: Geez, lighten up. What's wrong, I don't look enough like your father?

[She grabs the phone and starts dialing.]

Cashier: Crap...what's the number for 911...

TV: BWAHAHAHAHA!

[Meanwhile, outside, Studnuts and Harker are brutalizing Mano. Harker uses a car to launch himself into a shooting Seth press. Studnuts then pulls up Mano and gorilla press slams him on the street.]

TV: Listen, hang up the phone. I realize that was very disrespectful. I actually just need this bottle of strawberry-pineapple Crapple®.

[Suddenly, Soem Guy In a Mask and Kamikazie Ken run up and smash Harker and Studnuts with barbed wire car doors.]

Cashier: Eww. You actually like that stuff?

[Soem Guy pulls out two giant needles and hands one to Ken, and they go in for the needle shots.]

TV: Oh, no. I just need to pour this garbage down a Mexican guy's throat and then smash the glass bottle over his head.

[Soem Guy and Ken put hoods over Studnuts and Harker's heads. Mano opens the back of an unmarked white van.]

Cashier: Ahh...you part of the rasslin' show?

TV: No. Sports entertainment show. In fact, you're going to be on it. Unpaid, of course.

Cashier: Whoopee. So you with the WWE?

TV: WWE? *Pfffft* Please. No, they wouldn't hire me.

[Harker and Studnuts have been loaded into the van. The trio hops in the front.]

TV: You got change for a $50?

Cashier: Yeah, sure.

[She rings up the sale.]

TV: So, seriously. What do you say. Me. You. Pizza.

Cashier: I think you've got bigger things to worry about right now.

[She points out the window. Trey looks just as the white van speeds down the street.]

Cashier: Some terrorists just kidnapped your friends.

TV: Huh?

Cashier: Yeah. Some guy in a mask. And some other guy in a mask.

TV: Some...SOEM GUY IN A MASK? The hell is his problem with US?

Cashier: I don't even know you, dude.

TV: (Pause) So...no on the sex then?

Cashier: Get out of here!

TV: Fine.

[Trey runs outside.]

TV: STEVE! SETH!

[Trey drops his bottle of Crapple®. Slow motion shot of the bottle landing and smashing to bits.]

TV: NOOOOOOOO!

[Trey collapses to his knees.]

TV: You masked bastards!

Styles: Kamikazie Ken, Soem Guy In A Mask and Insano Mano have kidnapped Seth Harker and Steve Studnuts. Unbelievable events here, Heidi.

Pigeon: Vincent.

TV: What do you want?

Pigeon: You have ruined my chance of winning the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS yet again. Prepare to die.

Styles: Oh my GOD! Pigeon Drop on the shattered bottle! Not to mention on the street! This match has just gotten too extreme for television! Please, let's go somewhere else.

[A parking lot. Cut to a shot of several cards parked next to each other. The camera pans back to reveal Pete Trable laying prone on the nearest car. Booger gets on a car at the far end of the line of cars and charges down the hoods.]

Styles: Booger splash! And would you look at the dent in that hood after that impact?

NH: So, is Insano Mano still in this match? Or did he just eliminate himself by leaving Nowhere?

Styles: Sure. Let's say that. Mano has been eliminated as a result of leaving Nowhere.

NH: I wish I could leave Nowhere. Preferably with Brad Pitt! Humina humina humina!

Styles: We still haven't seen Death, Dr. Silaconne M. Plants or Regeneration X. Hold on! Booger's pulling up Trable! Louisianan Spoon! Right to the throat! Cover!

NH: Hey, isn't that Cabass, from Booger's promos?

Styles: It is! And he's got a referee's shirt!

Cabass: One! Two! Three!

Styles: HEGOTHIM! Booger just eliminated Pete Trable from the Nowhere City Brawl! Unbel--

[Cut to a bar. Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, Death, Jim "Totally Packaged" and Massive Man Rendition First are seated around a table, playing cards.]

Death: You know what might be cool? How about I get you up for the Netherworld powerbomb, then you counter it with a Nipple Cutter!

SMP: That might work. We'll have to try that one out. Hey, Kamkorder, when are we on.

[The guys all get up from the table.]

Kamkorder Kid: *Nervous laugh* Umm...five...four...three...two...one...we're live!

Death: Well, SMP...it looks like us opponents at MEGABRAWL will have to team up to fight off--

[SMP grabs Death and tosses him over the bar into a large mirror.]

*CRASH*

SMP: Speak for yourself, Death.

[SMP leaves the bar.]

Jim: Death, Death, Death. You thought you could just kill me and get away with it.

[A bony hand reaches up on the bar. Death pulls himself up.]

Death: Well, duh!

MMR1: Let's face it. Our death material is way funnier than your death material. Maybe we should take our act on tour?

Jim: Definitely. But tonight, in this very bar, Re-Generation X, proudly brings to you, a bad ace two on one beatdown of epic proportions.

Death: If you assault me...you'll never know...who has been sneak attacking you...Jim!

Jim: Whaaaa?

MMR1: Dude, he's bluffing!

Death: Am I? By the way, when you mentioned pain and pleasure in your rant...

Brad Pitt: Whatbody!

MMR1: Wrong place, dude.

Jim: Nobody in here but us cool guys.

BP: Oh. Sorry for the distraction that no doubt just let Death escape undetected.

Jim: No problem, dude. Now Death.

[Death is gone.]

Jim: Yeah. Death is gone like...Bam Bam Bigelow.

MMR1: Or Mike Awesome.

Jim: Or Bad News Brown.

MMR1: Or Arnold Skaaland.

Jim: Or Sensational Sherri.

MMR1: Or John Kronus.

Jim: Or Karl Gotch.

MMR1: Or the Missing Link.

Jim: Or Crush.

MMR1: Or the Fabulous Moolah.

Jim: I know. I'm so broke.

MMR1: No, dude. I meant, that fossil from the WWE.

Jim: Yeah. She's got a lot in common with the dinosaurs now. They're BOTH extinct!

MMR1: Nice one. Now let's go find Death!

Jim: I dunno, man. Death's been killing a lot of wrestlers this year. I don't really want to get on that list.

MMR1: Don't worry dude, you won't.

Jim: No?

MMR1: Nah. You'd have to actually BE a wrestler to be a dead wrestler.

Jim: Why can't I see anything all of a sudden?

MMR1: I dunno.

[The lights are out.]

Jim: Why are you just getting around to telling us this NOW?

[You two wouldn't shut the heck up!]

*CRASH*

*THUD*

MMR1: Jim? Jim? Hello?

*THUD*

MMR1: Dude, I think I just tripped over you.

Voice: One! Two! Three!

MMR1: No WAY! I so did NOT just pin you, Jim, I swear!

Voice: Yes you did.

*Running footsteps*

MMR1: Who are you, mysterious voice-slash-attacker-slash-apparently some kind of part-time referee?

Styles: Who keeps attacking Jim?

NH: I don't know. Maybe we'll find out at--

Voice: MEGABRAWL~!

NH: Live on December 15 on BOB On-Demand at www.BOBwrestling.com!

Styles: We've got to take a break! We'll be right back!

Jim: I'm so sick of job--


[A shot of an eclipse.]

Voice: (Whisper) Save enough money to buy MEGABRAWL...save the world!

Narrator: MEGABRAWL, live December 15th, only on BOB-On-Demand at www.bobwrestling.com!


[We return, right outside FedsEx, where Scotty is looking around... making sure the coast is clear... before walking toward the sidewalk.]

Brad Pitt: THERE YOU ARE!

[Scotty turns his gaze toward Nowhere Fried Turkey, where Brad Pitt has just taken a bite out of a Turkey leg... before tossing the leg to the ground, and chasing after Scotty. Scotty weaves in and out of traffic, before leaping through the air... and landing beside Styles at the announce desk, back at the Mayor's Trailer.]

Scotty: SAVE ME STYLES!

Styles: Sorry, Scotty, but you got yourself into this mess...

Scotty: TRAITOR! Heidi! You know I've always cared deeply about you, right? You know I LOVE you... right?

NH: You mean as far as wanting to *beep* me? I don't know if I'd call that 'love'...

Scotty: Just stand in front of me! Pitt would never hit a woman!

NH: Hm... I would like to meet Brad up close...

Brad Pitt: Get over here, ya weasel! I am SO wringing your scrawny little neck!

NH: He's right here, Brad! Can you sign my breast?

Brad Pitt: Sure thing darlin'. Just let me take out some trash real quick...

Caption: A few moments later

[Massive Man makes his way toward the ring, looking for someone to beat the crap out of... when he finds a sight that makes him chuckle.]

MMR1: Dude! Heh, is that... heheh... is that what I think it is?

Styles: Folks, Brad Pitt has suspended Scotty Whatbody from a pole here at ringside... by his underwear. In actually nothing BUT his underwear. Is it chilly up there, Scotty?

Scotty: B-B-Bite me... *shivers*

Styles: It looks as if Scotty has been eliminated due to not being able to compete any further.

Scotty: How can you make a call like th-th-that!

Styles: Well, do you want to see how far you make it in your underwear, hanging by a pole?

Scotty: ... Good p-p-point. *shivers*

NH: I love seeing Scotty being humiliated just as much as anyone else, but one thing I don't like seeing? Scotty in his underwear. Yech...

Scotty: Why don't we trade p-p-places?

NH: In your dreams...

Scotty: H-H-How'd you know? *shivers*

NH: ... Styles?

Styles: Massive Man seems to be chatting with Brad Pitt.

Pitt: Hey, Massive. Can I call ya First?

Styles: OH MY GOD!!! SUPERKICK! SUPERKICK! Massive Man Rendition First just blasted Brad Pitt's jaw clean off with a superkick!

NH: Oh no! Oh, Brad! He didn't even get to sign my breast!

Massive: I really don't know why I did that... Hey man, ya want back up?

Pitt: Urrgh... Huh? *is pulled back up* Wha- ... er... Thank-

Styles: OH MY GOD!!! ANOTHER superkick!

Massive: Oh jeez, dude, I should really be more careful. Here ya go, brush yourself off.

Pitt: Mmmm... I don't feel so g-

Styles: AYE DIOS MIO!!!

NH: Why in the love of God is he doing this?!

Massive Man: Man, I am SO clumsy. Whoopsa-daisy, on your feet *pulls Brad back up... right before leveling him once again with the superkick* DAMN! My bad.

Styles: Massive Man is simply walloping the living hell out of poor Brad Pitt...

NH: Oh Brad... all those million dollar looks...

Massive Man: Let me give you a hand there buddy. *grabs Pitt by the hand, lifts him up... before- *

*WHACK!!!*

Styles: OH MY GOD! A chair to the back of Massive Man... he falls forward, right on top of Brad Pitt... those five consecutive superkicks have led to Pitt being nothing more than dead weight. Wait a minute... the assailant... it's DEATH! And Death just rolled Massive over, before placing one single finger on both men... the homeless person from the audience walks over to the area, and puts on a dingy, dirty old referee's shirt... he makes the count...

Homeless Guy: 1..2..3.

NH: Awwwww... poop. Darn it... Well, maybe I can get his autograph after the show...

Styles: I don't think he'll be in the mood, Heidi.

NH: Meh. Aw well.

Styles: ... Folks, we're down to the Final Four. ONLY WORLD CHAMPION Death will meet Booger, Axl, and SMP, on top of 'GwarTellica Square Garden', where they will duke it out in the second half of the Nowhere City Brawl. BOB's first EVER Rooftop Rumble, in which the last man NOT tossed from the top of the roof, will walk away as the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS! It's the 4-Way Rooftop Rumble, for the title... and it's NEXT!


a mutcheenzz tahyl


[Back at the ring, Massive Man is still down. But he is not alone in the ring.]

NH: Oh no! It's Kay Fabe!

Styles: Kay Fabe? She's not on my format! She's not supposed to be here.

NH: Look! She just grabbed the Swiss Army Belt. Is she...

Styles: She's stuffing the Swiss Army Belt down her...tights?

NH: And look at that evil, gap-toothed smile!

SW: C-c-c-an I g-g-g-get in those t-i-t-t-i--t-ights?

KF: Hey, Massive Man? You want this title back? You'll have to face me. The greatest technical wrestler possessing the body of a redheaded woman today! Get ready for some toothless aggression!

Styles: Oh dear lord.

KF: At MegaBrawl, that's what it's all aboot! Eh?

Styles: Massive Man vs. Kay Fabe?

NH: The Heavenly Crippler?

Styles: The Suicidal Wolverine? Oh, fans, this is getting bad now. Speaking of bad, let's go to the finish of our main event!

[Cut to the rooftop.]

Styles: Fans, we are almost out of time, but Nick@Nite has told us they will stay with it until 10 p.m.

NH: So, they're not giving us any extra time?

Styles: Right.

NH: Oh boy. I see where this is going. We've got like three minutes left?

Styles: And it looks like Axl Van Halen may be trying to recruit Booger here to team up against SMP and Death.

NH: SMP already tossed Death through a mirror earlier, I doubt these two are going to be teaming up again. Wait, I thought there were only four guys on the roof. Why do I see five guys?

Styles: Hey, you're right.

NH: Who is that guy?

Styles: That's The Great! And look. He's wearing an "I Attacked douja Earlier Tonight" T-shirt!

"The Great": Axl Van Halen. The Great heard that you wanted The Great to join your stable. Let The Great ask you a question. Is your stable...Great?

Axl: Now that you're part of it! Suck on that, Plants.

SMP: I'm not sucking on anything of yours, pal.

"The Great": But there is one thing The Great wants from you if The Great is ever going to join your Hierarchy. The Great wants a shot at THE ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS!

Axl: I guarantee you'll get the shot some day after I'm the champion.

"The Great": Oh, no, no, no, no. Not some day in the future. But tonight. The Great wants to be in this match tonight. And since The Great knows you're booking most of this show, The Great wants you to book The Great into the match right now.

Axl: Really? I don't know. There's only like, two minutes left, and I was planning on winning the belt.

"The Great": You were?

Axl: Well, yeah. That was kind of the whole point of this show.

"The Great": So, you're saying that you want The Great to be your lackey? Well let The Great tell you something, Axl. I'm great. THE Great. Everyone thinks The Great is great. They all praise The Great. And if you don't...I guess The Great will have to make a believer...out of you.

NH: Hey! Who just threw Booger off the roof?

Styles: That's Uber Vampire Warrior and Lord Athackkimentham! Fellow members of the Skull & Bones Society with the champ, Death! Booger's in the elimination net! And their appearance just distracted Axl.

Axl: Hey!

Styles: The red mist!

NH: I think that was the mysterious red liquid that most definitely isn't blood, Styles. Uber Vamp just spit it.

Styles: Oh, right. Axl is blinded. The Great's going after Axl! Stunner #3 from Smackdown vs. Raw?

NH: He's really learning to wrestle from a WWE video game? How sad.

Styles: And The Great has eliminated Axl! Axl's in the net.

"The Great": What a GREAT elimination!

NH: As The Great leaves the roof without his title shot, we're down to our final two after all this outside interference. But Lord A and Uber Vamp are still on the roof. It's three on one! Death, Lord A and Uber Vamp vs. SMP? This isn't fair!

Styles: Wait a minute! Is that a helicopter?

[Cut to the sky where a Medevac copter is suddenly circling the roof. Two lines fall down to the roof.]

Styles: Oh my GOD! I don't believe it! It's the Ambulance Jockeys!

NH: It is? Hey, it is.

Styles: And they're rappelling down from the ambulance of the sky.

[Garry "The Gurney" Green and "Backboard" Barry Brown slide down the lines. Once they get off the lines, they grab their crotches and fall to the roof.]

Garry "The Gurney" Green: My crotch is burning!

"Backboard Barry Brown: Mine too. I told you we should have worn cups.

GG: Shut up, Barry!

Styles: NIPPLE CUTTER on Death! SMP got Death! Can he roll him over the edge into the waiting net and become the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS? NO! Here come the Skull & Bones on the attack. SMP trying to fight off both Uber Vamp and Lord A, and doing a pretty good job, but Death is recovering. SMP was just INCHES away from becoming the champion here tonight.

NH: Barry and Garry are up!

Styles: All six men are brawling! What a fight in Nowhere! We're almost out of time. Who is going to--

Axl: (Bullhorning) As a result of a *bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep* NOBODY!

[Green slime begins falling down on Axl.]

Styles: Wow! I haven't heard language like that in a LONG time!

[Slime continues falling on Axl, finally stopping after about 30 seconds.]

NH: Here comes the Hierarchy and slime-covered Axl! The roof rumble is continuing, even though the match has been declared a no contest! The Hierarchy, the Skull & Bones Society and a mostly-reunited Club Med are brawling. Where's Necro Phil?

Styles: He couldn't get past the censors. Fans, it's MEGABRAWL! It's December 15! It's the MEGAEST BOB-On-Demand event of the year! Don't you dare miss it because we can't do it on television! Thanks for watching. Good night everybody! And--

NH: Oh his god.


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