Brawlers On a Budget > Episodes > 2008 > Power Is Stolen

Power Is...Out?

[We fade in on the familiar beat up Brawlers On a Budget wrestling ring with its worn sagging ropes, inside the poorly lit Witness Protection Arena in Parts Unknown, New Mexico. "Me So Horny" by 2 Live Crew begins blaring, and BOB's newest superstar, Kobe Gyant, makes his way out to indifference.]

Mikey Styles: Hello everyone, and welcome to Power Is—

BZZZT

BZZZT

BZZZT

Caption: 28 Hours Later...

Voice: ..Initial reports that the virus was caused by rage infected monkeys has now been dismissed as complete bullshit.

Styles: Turn it off, Scotty. We're back.

Scotty Whatbody: But everyone's dead here!

Styles: No they're not. The fans are just really quiet. And probably rather pissed.

SW: A pissed BOB fan? No need to be redundant, Styles. New Mexico sucks. Why didn't we just stay in Sin City?

Styles: Hello everyone. Fittingly enough, yesterday, our power was stolen by some crappy local small-town electric company on a sunny, beautiful, stormless day. But now we're back, and we're going to get through this show today.

Caption: Don't you believe it!

SW: It was terrible, Styles. There's nothing worse than being in a strange place without TV or money for cheap Asian whores.

Styles: Did you miss us?

Kobe Gyant vs. Blackman White

[Fittingly, "Me So Horny" by 2 Live Crew hits. Kobe Gyant makes his way out to the ring. Again.]

SW: Speaking of pissed, Kobe's gotta be pissed that he's missing out on his lucrative Popeye's Chicken pay today due to the power outage yesterday. Or whenever it was.

Styles: Scotty, don't get racist.

SW: What's racist? I stopped at a rest stop with a Popeye's and a Burger King. Nothing but white people at the Burger King, and nothing but Kobe's at the Popeye's. Stereotypes are true, Styles.

Styles: Only in your brain.

Kobe Gyant: What's up Parts Unknown!

Crowd: *REDACTED*

KG: Let's get this squash over with. I just got offered $51 million to play basketball over in Europe, son. Blackman White. Once I'm done with you, you can go back to sucking donkey balls.

["Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats plays. Even the crickets are silent. Blackman White bounces out down the aisle.]

SW: Styles, it seems like something's missing.

Styles: Really? What?

SW: Boobies! Where's Kay Fabe? Isn't this her home town?

Styles: Well, she and Seth Harker do call Parts Unknown home. I'm not sure if it's Parts Unknown, New Mexico, or perhaps Parts Unknown, Indiana.

SW: It couldn't be. Parts Unknown, Indiana is a shit hole!

["Centerfold" by the J. Geils Band hits. Finally, the crowd pops.]

Nurse Heidi: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back, me!

[Heidi steps out wearing a white nurse's hat with the red cross, a white top that's unbuttoned to under her navel, tiny white shorts, stockings and high heels. And the crowd goes monkey!]

SW: Oh baby. Screw the match, I'll pay to watch Heidi bend over for the next ten minutes! Woohoo!

Styles: This one will be a big battle. White is 6-8, and Gyant is, *ahem* allegedly 7-3. Though he doesn't look a bit more than 6-11. I think he exaggerates a bit.

SW: Man, I'd love to orally intubate Heidi.

Styles: Excuse me?

SW: Jeez, watch "Scrubs" or "House" sometime. It's an inneundo.

Styles: And here we go. Gyant and White exchanging forearm shots, neither man waiting for their introductions.

SW: It's the black guy vs. the guy who thinks he's the black guy. The Baller vs. the Donkey Ball Sucker. Man, Kobe's slept with so many babes. I'm sure he's already gotten into Heidi's "bucket" tonight.

Styles: Isn't Heidi with Steve Studnuts?

SW: Heidi can't even spell commitemnent.

Styles: Neither can you, apparenlty.

SW: You just fucked up, too!

Styles: *Ahem* Better run a spellczech.

SW: Plees!

Styles: Look at this! Kobe's got White up! Jump Shot Slam! Oh my GOD! 299 pounds just got press slammed. And the fans giving Kobe a little love after that amazing show of strength.

SW: Well, he is a giant. He's like a talented, stronger, in-shape, athletic version of Kevin Nash. And he's very well-spoken.

Styles: Scotty, you wouldn't say that if Gyant was white. Stop it!

SW: He's articulate!

Styles: Stop it!

SW: He's Ebonics-free?

Styles: Scotty! Don't make me cut your microphone.

SW: He's not black?

Styles: That's just absurd.

Kobe Gyant: Actually, Styles, it's not that absurd. I'm only part black, you know... I'm also part Hawaiian, part Ethiopian, part Cherokee, part Italian, a sixteenth Jewish, and a sixty-fourth nanolurker, you know...

SW: Nanolurker?

KG: Some alien race, you know...

Styles: How are you HERE and in the ring at the SAME TIME?

KG: I can bend time and space, you know. I'm more Stupendous than Stephen Hawking, Styles. I'm also giving Nurse Heidi my patented "finger roll" right now.

NH: Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhh! Ohhhhhh!

KG: I'm simply amazing, Styles. I'm so good I can commentate on my own match while I'm in it, you know...

Styles: Wasn't that the Commentator's gimmick?

KG: Actually, he stole it from me, you know...I thought of it 10 years ago. But actually, The Commentator was calling his match while wrestling. I'm actually calling my match while watching me wrestle. Oh, look at me with that amazing clothesline. I am in the zone!

Styles: Kobe, the OTHER Kobe, has White up. MONSTER JAM! Oh man! Kobe is mopping the floor with Blackman White.

KG: That's a good idea, actually. Be right back.

SW: Where'd he go?

Styles: Kobe Gyant literally just vanished before our eyes. Hold on. Kobe just tossed White to the floor. And...another Kobe Gyant? Oh boy...did Coma book this match? Another Kobe Gyant with a bucket full of water is dunking White in the bucket. And he's using White's face to wash the floor.

SW: Gotta get that sweat off the floor so Kobe doesn't slip and hurt himself.

Styles: And White is tossed back inside.

KG: Coma stole his surreal booking from me, you know. I could make it rain Cheesus in here, you know.

SW: Praise Cheesus.

Styles: Gyant looks like he's calling for his finisher.

KG: I totally am.

Styles: He grabs Blackman White's head like a basketball. He charges. SLAM DUNK!

SW: Your finisher is ramming a guy's head into the turnbuckle? How lame is that?

KG: It's the lamest lame in Lameonia, you know. I won the Lame Award for the last two years straight, you know. I'm a Los Santos Hall of Lamer.

Styles: One, two, three, and Kobe with a, well, Gyant debut victory here in BOB. Kobe, thanks for joining us.

KG: Thanks for joining us, it's been a real pleasure being here, don't be a stranger, Kobe. Come back any time. Well thank you, I will.

SW: Did he just read—

KG: Read all your lines? Bwahahaha!

SW + KG: Hey! Stop that! What are you psychic, too?

KG: Yeah, I totally am, you know...

[The lights go out.]

KG: What the?

SW: Didn't see that coming, did you?

KG: I saw that coming. And this. And the next three things that happen.

SW: Oh shit, did we lose the power again?

Styles: I don't think so. I can still hear you.

SW: Of course you can hear me, I'm sitting right next to you!

Styles: I meant on the headset.

SW: We have headsets? Wow.

KG: I can hear you perfectly. I have 20/20 hearing. I won a hearing contest this morning and won a gold, silver and bronze medal at the Hearing Olympics, you know...

CRACK

CRACK

CRACK

[After a few more seconds, the lights come back on. A steel chair is sitting in the middle of the ring, holding a microphone.]

Styles: It's Steel Chair! Steel Chair is here at Power is Stolen! And Steel Chair has just attacked, well, you, Kobe!

KG: Oh, it's on.

Styles: And Kobe is out of here.

Steel Chair: ...

SW: Oh man, Steel Chair laying the non-verbal smackdown on Kobe! It's a good thing we're not on G5, or they'd have to bleep that.

Steel Chair: ...

Styles: And Steel Chair has just challenged Kobe? Talk about your David and Goliath matchups.

SW: David was an inanimate object?

Styles: Well, no. Oh boy, and here comes the confusion. Kobe Number Two has hit the ring. Kobe headbutts Steel Chair! And here comes a bunch of nobodies in Security T-shirts to separate Kobe and Steel Chair! Oh what a wild start to Power Is Stolen!

SW: I hope it was worth the wait for all you people. And by the way, you better get used to waiting, because IT'S...

Coming Soon: Jeffrey The Jew

Voiceover: COMINGSOONTOBRAWLERSONABUDGET. IT'S...

Voiceover: Jeffrey The Jew! He'll light up your ass like you're name is Menorah! He's gonna be a bigger star than David! He's almost as cheap as BigBOSS! Jeffrey the Jew! Coming soon to Brawlers On a Budget (if he ever does a Rant). BOB Wrestling: Cross the Lame!

[Back to the poorly lit ringside arena.]

Styles: Well fans, up next it's Kevin the Pyromaniac vs. Trey Vincent in a cage match. While our ring crew sets up the cage, let's take you to this pre-recorded bonus match. "Stupendous Stephen Hawking makes his debut against Mr. Fantastic.

SW: Yeah, it's pre-recorded so long ago that Angelina X hadn't even signed her contract yet.

Styles: Scotty!

SW: Hottest cripple ever!

Styles: She's not a cripple.

SW: She isn't? Then why is she using the translator thingee?

Styles: That's what we've been trying to sort out in the Rant Zone! Let's go to the tape...

"Stupendous" Stephen Hawking vs. Mr. Fantastic

["She Blinded Me With Science" by Malcom McLaren plays as a man in a motorized wheelchair rolls out from behind the curtain.]

Styles: Well fans, it's now time for a bonus Power Is Stolen match.

NH: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, he weighs 328 pounds, including the wheelchair, and is making his BOB debut... 'Stupendous' Steve Hawking!

SW: Too... many... jokes.

Styles: Steve Hawking is BOB's first ever paralyzed wrestler, how will he fare in the squared circle from the confines of that wheelchair?

SW: Will we see the spinaroonie?

['Human Flesh Wax' by Cenotaph plays.]

NH: And his opponent, weighing in at 300 pounds. From Bacon, Idaho... Misterrrrr Fantastic!

SW: So BOB finally booked a cripple fight.

Styles: There's the bell and Mr. Fantastic holds out his arms for a test of strength to start the contest but Steve Hawking doesn't move.

SW: He's paralyzed you retard.

[Mr. Fantastic looks around him with a confused look on his face. He lifts up one of Hawking's arms and punches himself in the face with it.]

Styles: Steve Hawking with a big left hand levels Mr. Fantastic!

SW: This is going to be a long night.

Styles: Steve Hawking drives his wheelchair forward over Mr. Fantastic's fallen body.

Mr. Fantastic: Ouch! Jesus fucking Christ!

Styles: Mr. Fantastic springs up onto his feet and knocks Steve Hawking out of his chair with a right hand.

SW: Now we're talking!

Styles: Mr. Fantastic lifts up Hawking's motionless body and goes for a fallaway slam, but topples under the weight. 1, 2, Mr. Fantastic kicked out!

[Generic Ref helps Steve Hawking back into his chair.]

Styles: Hawking runs over Mr. Fantastic again!

Mr. Fantastic: Fuck!

Styles: Hawking is trying to make roadkill out of Mr. Fantastic as he reverses back over him and then runs over him for a third time.

Mr. Fantastic: Stop it!

SW: Why am I not surprised to see skidmarks all over Mr. Fantastic?

Styles: Mr. Fantastic gets back up to his feet and dodges out of the way of Hawking's oncoming wheelchair.

SW: I wish he had a gun so he could do a driveby on this idiot.

[Mr. Fantastic grabs Hawking's arm and punches himself in the face again.]

Styles: Hawking with an assault of punches, but Mr. Fantastic blocks and elbows him hard. He pulls him out of his chair and hauls him up for a powerbomb...

[Mr. Fantastic does a forward roll while holding on to Hawking.]

Styles: ... but Hawking reverses with a hoodanconrana! 1, 2, Fantastic kicks out!

SW: That was... surreal.

Styles: Generic Ref helps Hawking back into his wheelchair again. Mr. Fantastic is resting in the corner and doesn't notice Hawking coming right at him. He rams that wheelchair over and over again into Fantastic's knees. Mr. Fantastic falls on his ass from the pain and Hawking reverses into the opposite corner. He speeds up and drives the wheelchair as fast as he can before skidding and smashing one of the wheels into Mr. Fantastic's head.

SW: He's getting his ass kicked by someone with paralysis.

Styles: Fantastic rolls out of the ring to recover as Steve Hawking starts popping wheelies.

Mr. Fantastic: Ow, my neck.

Styles: Mr. Fantastic is back in the ring and looks pissed. He winds his arms up and swings with a HUGE right hand. He picks up the self proclaimed most intelligent man in wrestling, chair and all, and lifts him up onto the top turnbuckle. He follows and sets him up for a superplex... but Fantastic falls down to the mat hard. Hawking presses the forward button and falls all the way down and crushes Mr. Fantastic! One, two, three! HEGOTHIM!

NH: Here is your winner... 'Stupendous' Steve Hawking!

The Epic Quest Begins

[Backstage, Mike Monroe was standing by with XXXtreme Machine.]

Mike Monroe: Do I really have to interview him? I'd rather interview an inanimate object...

[Mike walks away.]

XM: hey fuk u mic!!! gte owta her or ill fuk u n teh rowd!! stopndis steev hockin iv gut sumtin 2 sa 2 u!!!

[Angelina X walks up to XXXtreme Machine.]

Angelina X: http://tts.imtranslator.net/1LYD

XM: wat teh fuk iz tgat!!!! n emal adrez?

Angelina X: http://tts.imtranslator.net/1LYO

XM: howw teh fuk m i sapos 2 no wat ur sayin kunt!! duz ne1 hav a kumpudr!!!!

[And so it begun...XXXtreme Machine went off on his epic quest to find a computer to find out what in the hell Angelina X just said to him...]

Caption: A few minutes later...

[Backstage, XXXtreme Machine was beginning his epic search for a computer.]

XM: i fuond onne!!!1!

[Well, that was vaguely disappointing....]

Computer: Would. You .Like. To. Play. A. Game?

XM: no

Computer: You. Have. Selected. "Yes". Would. You. Like. To. Play. "Chess". "Tic-Tac-Toe". "WCW Thunder". or. "Thermonuclear War"?

XM: byte mi balz conmpta i wanta fnid owt waht amgaleva sayd 2 mi

Computer: You. Have. Selected. "Thermonuclear War." Press. Any. Key. To. Continue.

XM: wers teh any kee

Computer: Just. Press. A. Button. You. Schmuck.

XM: i doon wannna pley thermoniculan war

Computer: Oh. Go. On. I. Have. Eight. Unsecured. Russian. Warheads. Aimed. At. Australia. We. Could. Start. With. Darwin. Who'd. Miss. It?

XM: tis compotor is teh suck

[XXXtreme stomps off, passing Kevin the Pyromaniac en route.]

Computer: Would. You .Like. To. Play. A. Game?

Kevin: Ooooh. Big boom!

CAGE MATCH
Kevin the Pyromaniac vs. Trey Vincent

SW: The cage is finally ready? Someone should seriously dock Flunky's pay for how long that took.

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, this is a Cage Match. Apparently of the big, ugly, orange eyesore family-friendly variety.

["Firestarter" by Prodigy hits.]

Styles: Could this be the last time we hear that music in BOB?

SW: Why? Is Prodigy suing us for not paying their royalty fees again?

Styles: No. This cage match is dangerous. And Kevin is overmatched.

SW: You think a guy whose gimmick is setting himself on fire is going to get hurt in THAT cage? *Pfffft* Come on.

NH: Introducing first, from Stinking Bay, Arkansas. He weighs 82 pounds. Kevin the Pyromaniac!

SW: Hey, where did that chick with the huge tits go. Why is there some fat dude sitting there now? Son of a bitch. Did they relocate everyone in the audience during the break? They're serious about the whole witness protection thing in this arena. We must be surrounded by criminals.

["Not All Who Wander Are Lost" by DevilDriver hits next.]

NH: And his opponent. Being accompanied to the ring by Herbert the...what the hell does this say? Tricotillomaniac? Whatever. He is 265 pounds of walking bullshit, a giant asshole!

SW: Whoa!

Styles: Heidi is pissed at Trey after he brainbusted her on top of Dr. Silaconne M. Plants a few weeks back on iMPLOSION 8.

SW: Yep. She's been selling that neck injury angle ever since.

Styles: Scotty!

SW: She hasn't even appeared in any of Dr. Silaconne M. Plants' numerous Rants in that time. Oh wait...

Styles: Anyway. Oh, what a man. Trey just flipped off Heidi as he entered the cage.

SW: I'm sure Trey's used a finger roll of his own on Heidi with that very finger. Why has everyone banged Heidi but me?

Styles: Let me count the reasons...These former tag team champions are about to go to battle right here in Parts Unknown.

SW: Hey, somebody just jumped the Flimsy Guardrail®. And he just grabbed Herbert!

Styles: Is this take home a Tricotillomaniac night as well as Free Gun Night?

SW: Oh wait. I recognize that dude. That's Bruce the Kleptomaniac! Kevin's old buddy.

Styles: You're right! And Bruce has just stolen Herbert!

SW: Trey's gonna be the one pulling out his hair now. No doubt he had some sort of master plan to screw Kevin.

TV: (Angrily) Did somebody just call me a homo?

SW: It was Styles!

Styles: And Kevin just used the distraction to dropkick Trey in the stomach. Not much vertical leap there from Kevin.

SW: Heh, not bad for a midget, I guess.

Styles: Kevin drags Trey inside and Generic Ref is shutting the door.

SW: Is this an escape dealie then? Or is Generic Ref just really lazy.

Styles: I really don't know. Kevin lighting his jeans on fire.

WHOOSH!

Styles: He's going for the Burning Octopus Stretch! Oh, but he can't get enough extension to lock his burning leg around Trey's head! Trey with a reversal. Oh, Trey just made Kevin kick himself in the nuts with that burning leg.

SW: (Doing his best Nat King Cole) Kevin's nuts roasting on a leg fire. Bwahahaha!

Styles: And Trey now begins his brawling offense as he unleashes right hands right to Kevin's skull. Now Vincent just stomping away on Kevin.

SW: Yeah, but on the brightside, all that stomping put out the fire. So I'm not even sure if that was a good move on Trey's part.

Styles: Trey dragging Kevin to the middle of the ring now. Fujiwara armbar attempt, but Kevin is rolling around, trying to not let Trey lock in the painful maneuver.

SW: Or he's trying to put himself out. I think I still see sparks. Maybe his underwear's on fire.

THWACK!

Styles: Trey with a STIFF kick to Kevin's arm.

SW: If at first you don't succeed, try, try, to kick his fuckin' arm off, I always say.

Styles: Trey off the ropes. Rolling knee drop on Kevin's arm.

TV: Wooooo!

Crowd: *REDACTED*

TV: Huh?

Styles: Good strategy by Trey. If Kevin can't use his arm, he'll have a tough time getting Trey up for the Go 2 Hell, and he'll also have a tougher time trying to scale the cage. Kevin with a droptoe hold. He drives both his knees into the back of Vincent's skull! Damn, that's gotta hurt! And look at Trey now. He's holding his nose and begging off in the corner!

SW: Sucker!

Styles: Hello! Low blow by Vincent stops Kevin's momentum before it can even begin. And there's the Minneapolis leg sweep.

SW: The only move that's more painful than actually living in Minneapolis.

Styles: And I think Trey's about to bring the cage into play.

*... UH...WHATEVER NOISE A CAGE MAKES WHEN A HEAD HITS IT?...UH...I MEAN...CLINK?*

SW: Umkay. Never seen the guy in the asterisks get stumped before.

Styles: Trey has Kevin up now. He just shoved Kevin's legs through the cage. And now Trey's climbing the cage! He may escape.

SW: Or he may just stand on Kevin's balls! BWAHAHAHA!

Styles: Oh my GOD! Trey grabs Kevin by the hair and pulls him up.

CLINK!

Styles: And RAMS the back of Kevin's skull into the cage. Will somebody stop this match?

SW: Why? Kevin isn't even seriously hurt. And I want buckets of blood!

Styles: Trey's digging into his pockets. Is that a razor?

SW: I think that's one of those Brazors, remember the short-lived Brawlers On a Budget brand razors?

Styles: Oh yeah.

SW: I still love that jingle. (Singing) Brazors: The Best A Cheap Jackass Like You Can Get™.

Styles: Weren't those all recalled for being incredibly FATAL if used?

SW: Trey must have found out where they were recalled to.

Styles: Trey is slicing open Kevin's forehead with that razor! And the doors of kayfabe have been kicked wide open once again in BOB. Kevin is wearing the crimson mask. It's literally raining blood on the ring.

[The opening riffs of "Raining Blood" by Slayer begins playing. Suck it, Ring of Honor. End "Raining Blood."]

Styles: Kevin's got the razor!

Slice

TV: Owwwwww!

SW: Holy crap! Now it's raining nipples? If it starts raining men, I'm so out of here...

Styles: Kevin just sliced off Trey's right nipple!

THUD!

SW: Was that Trey's nipple landing?

Styles: No! That was a diving neckbreaker by Kevin! Kevin has scarred Trey for life.

TV: I'm not scared!

Styles: I said scarred!

TV: Oh. Right! Hey, does anybody have any ice? My poor little nipple! Prepare to die, Kevin!

SW: I have some crazy glue around here somewhere, Trey!

Styles: Trey charges at Kevin, but misses. Tornado DDT by Kevin does not. Kevin going up top. He's spraying everywhere on his body with lighter fluid now. Oh dear lord!

WHOOSH!

Styles: You've heard of the shooting star press? I think we're about to see the shooting sub-star press! OHMYGOD!

Crowd: *REDACTED*

Styles: Unbelievable!

SW: Slicing off his nipple wasn't enough? He had to give him third-degree burns as well?

Styles: Kevin has stopped, dropped, and rolled, and now Kevin's trying to make his escape from the steel cage. The Vice President in Charge of Everything is in danger of losing to the Vice President in Charge of Burning Everything.

SW: That's not a recognized position, stop your lies!

Styles: Vincent's up. Kevin trying to crawl over the top, but Trey's got him. What in the... Oh no! OH MY GOD!

THUD!

Styles: That was the most extreme Hot Shot I've ever seen! Did you see Kevin's head snap back when he hit the top rope?

SW: Kevin will have whiplash if he's lucky. If I'm lucky, he'll be paralyzed and we'll never have to see this hardcore freak again.

Styles: Vincent's back up. He's got Kevin hooked. Oh no!

Rattle!

Styles: Fallaway slam into the cage! And now Trey will try to climb out of the cage. But Kevin's back up. Both men exchanging punches now.

Crowd: *REDACTED*

Styles: Both men are crotched!

SW: We need an iAd run-in. That cage isn't that hard to get into.

SMACK!

Styles: Superkick by Vincent. That may have just turned out Kevin's lights.

SW: Kevin's going down in a blaze of gory tonight. Man, his face is covered with blood. This is awesome. Trey is still our hero.

Styles: But Kevin's getting up. Where is he getting this from? He's emptying his lighter fluid onto the mat now.

STOMP

STOMP

STOMP

STOMP, STOMP, STOMP, STOMP, STOMP, STOMP WHOOSH

SMACK!

Styles: Sweet Skin Graft Music! OHMYGOD! Trey Vincent is down and cooked! Literally and figuratively.

SW: Oh no, this CAN'T be happening! Kevin's not on my fantasy BOB team!

Styles: There isn't a fantasy BOB team.

SW: That YOU know about. C'mon, Trey! Shake it off.

Styles: Both men are exhausted from the physical toll of this match. Both men trying to pull themselves up and get out of the cage. Trey just saw Kevin and he's going right after him. Glass Ceiling attempt? No! Kevin backdrops Trey, but Trey lands on his feet. Shocking Conclusion by Trey! No! Kevin shoves Trey off. SHOCKING CONCLUSION BY KEVIN!

SW: Thief! That's Trey's move!

Styles: Didn't Trey steal it from Steve Austin's moveset? Who actually stole it from Mikey Whipwreck. Who stole it from Johnny Ace.

SW: Who?

Styles: Of course. C'mon, Kevin. It's now or never! Climb that cage and show Trey that you are not a jobber anymore, and that you are going to be a huge force in BOB in the coming years.

SW: Years? Awww, won't this place EVER shut down?

Styles: Not when you have silly masochists running it. Kevin's to the top rope. Just a few more feet and this one could be all over. Kevin's stopping. He just pulled out a glove from his back pocket and he's heading back to the unconscious Trey Vincent. What is this? Kevin's putting the glove on. He's spraying it with lighter fluid. Oh no. Are we about to see the Big Time Flaming Fist Drop from Kevin. That could cave in his melting face!

SW: Somebody call Jerry Lawyer. He'll sue! Yer yer yer.

WHOOSH!

Styles: Off the ropes. And the other side. Off again. And again. Big. Time. Flaming. Fist. MISSES! Trey grabs Kevin's hand. Oh no! He's making Kevin punch himself repeatedly! This is BRUTAL. Kevin is being singed while being beaten unconscious. By his own fist! Oh my god. This is beyond extreme here fans. Kevin is down, but Trey is continuing the assault. Stop this! He's out for the love of...damn!

SW: Kevin is beating himself senseless. Not that he had much sense to begin with.

Styles: Kevin is limp.

SW: I'm not. Man, I've missed Heidi. Woohoo!

Styles: Too much information, as usual, Scotty. Trey finally has stopped the flaming fist of fury. And it looks like this one is all over. Trey's heading for the door. And he's out. Damnit!

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, a giant asshole with a needle dick and only one nipple!

Styles: What a match. I'd hate to have to follow this match.

SW: What a coincidence. I hate two of the guys who WILL be following this match. Axl. Viruz.

Styles: You better be careful, Scotty. You may be out of the wheelchair, but Axl could still kick your ass again.

SW: The only thing I'm in danger of is sending him on a self-esteemless spree again.

Pigeon: why are my ears burning?

SW: Probably from all the lighter fluid and the presence of Kevin the Pyromaniac.

Pigeon: ah that explains it. what's up gentlemen? the boss is here to once again bless you with five star commentary. i'm the bret hart of color commentary. i carry subpar commentators to greatness with my formula and five moves of doom.

SW: Which are?

Pigeon: dick jokes, ego stroking, self-loathing, quoting lyrics, and random bitching. and tonight, the boss is debuting a brand new catchphrase, assuming there's some sort of ridiculous highspot that somebody will no doubt improperly sell. because axl gave me permission to flex my non-roided commentating muscles. i imagine the only person who would benefit from my tongue getting steroids would be jerri li, assuming i also get some cactus pricks inserted into my tongue. and on my prick. can you picture me with a pricked prick?

Styles: Pigeon, I want to get into the Jerri Li situation during the next match. But I understand we have to head backstage now.

Pigeon: mikey styles, you understand little with difficulty and forget without any difficulty at all...so it is written, so you just read it, unless you're a skimming e-fed fuck.

Who Shot Mr. Fantastic?

[We cut backstage where Mr. Fantastic is receiving medical attention to the skidmarks he received during his loss to Steve Hawking earlier. Wait, that doesn't sound right...]

SW: Since when does BOB have medical staff?

[He sees someone off screen and acts surprised.]

Mr. Fantastic: Oh it's you, what do you want?

[There is a pause, we can't hear what is being said off screen.]

Mr. Fantastic: I see... I think you better drop it.

[He stands up and walks off screen himself.]

Mr. Fantastic: I said drop it...

[There is a gunshot and the medical staff rush to help the fallen Mr. Fantastic.]

Styles: OH MY GOD! Mr. Fantastic has been shot... but, who shot him?

[The camera turns to reveal Steve Hawkings' manager, Angelina X, running away from the crime scene. The medical staff announce Mr. Fantastic's death.]

XM: hye u old fuk do u haf @ kumpudr!!!

Medic: Sir, this man is dead!

XM: do u haf a kump!dr @sholll!!!

Medic: Not with me, no.

[XXXtreme Stunner on the medic.]

SW: Cheesus!

[XXXtreme Machine kicks Mr. Fantastic's corpse in the nuts.]

SW: Cheesus Christ on a Cheeto!

[XXXtreme Machine walks away.]

[Cut to ringside where Styles and Scotty have a "our checks just bounced AGAIN" face and voices on. Pigeon is is staring at the desk, bored.]

Styles: Ladies and gentlemen, let me be the first to say that we here at Brawlers on a Budget send out our condolances to Mr. Fantastic's family... make that families, he has about seven of them. Wow, that's a lot of orphans.

SW: What a terrible thing to happen on Free Gun Night.

Styles: And I'm sure I speak for Acting BigBOSS Seth Harker when I say that Mr. Fantastic would want this crappy show to go on. And so it will. We're about to find out who will be the number one contenders for the the Not Good Enough to Fight Alone Tag Team Titles.

SW: Too bad they aren't called the Not Good Enough To Win Any Titles In BOB titles. Axl and Viruz would be crowned champions for life.

Styles: Would that even be possible?

SW: Irony, dude. Irony.

Pigeon: you know what's really sad? the world's tallest woman died. we would've been a perfect match. her snatch might have actually fit my giant horsecock.

Styles: Easy, Pigeon.

Axl + Viruz vs. The Great + XFactor Pete Trable

["Do You Call My Name" by Ra plays.]

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one punishment job.

SW: BWAHAHAHA!

NH: Being accompanied to the ring by the the head writer Michelle, at a combined weight of something, Viruz and Axl, the Hierarchy!

pigeon: head writer? more like a head sucker. seeing as there's little doubt as to who will win this match now, i'd like to discuss jeffrey the jew for a minute. hey jew-boy. you wanna form a tag team? we could call ourselves the chosen ones. or the self-haters. think about it. signed, a fellow jew. p.s. we'd be 100 times better than axl and viruz.

Styles: OK, thanks for that, Pigeon.

SW: You know, he's a virgin.

Pigeon: styles?

Styles: I am not!

SW: No, Jeffrey.

Pigeon: if he hangs out with me, that won't last long.

Styles: I'd heard that rumor about you.

Pigeon: i've heard some rumors about you, too, mikey styles. hey, where did my banana go?

SW: Is it up Styles' ass or Axl's?

Pigeon: he's not gay anymore, didn't you know?

SW: He'll always be gay to me.

Pigeon: a guy who likes goo. he'll always be ashley to me. oh boy...shriveled dick warning.

Michelle: What are you saying over here? Do I need to FIRE YOU?

Pigeon: there's something with four letters you can do to me, but "fire" isn't it, michelle.

Michelle: I think maybe you need a fourth commentator for this match so things are fair and balanced over here.

Pigeon: michelle fox everyone. not to be confused with megan fox, who is one of the hottest women on the planet.

SW: She's not Katherine Heigl. Or Kate Beckinsale. Oh baby!

Michelle: I'm way hotter than all those chicks!

Pigeon: you know what kings and queens need? guillotines, quoth the pigeon, aerosmith.

NH: And their opponents, if the commentators will ever shut up...

["X Gonna (Get No) Satisfaction" by Rolling Stones and DMX hits. And like all hybrids of existing songs, it really, really blows.]

Pigeon: that's the word.

NH: They hail from St. Louis, Missouri ever since Pete's house burned down. At a combined weight of something, Pete "XFactor" Trable and The Great, The Amazing Greats!

Michelle: Wait until you see this. Hehehehe.

Pigeon: nothing seems to be happening, dusk, oh, sorry, i mean, michelle.

SW: Dusk!

Pigeon: i think trey had anti-viruz software installed on his computer.

Michelle: Yeah, right. Trey is nothing but viruses, especially in his crotch area. Wait, how do you know what we had planned?

Pigeon: i have one friend in high places who shares secret bob memos with me. for example, there was this one he leaked to me about how viruz was planning to have pete's entrance music scratch into "rap is crap" by the west texas rednecks when pete came out, and then the great was supposed to come out to "pie" by the rock, preceded by the line "If ya smeeeeelllllll, who the Great... is... rippin' off", voiced by Axl. there was something about pyro scaring the great as if he were a chump like eric young or something, too.

SW: Wow.

Michelle: Argh!

Pigeon: face it, michelle, you're hillary clinton and trey is barack obama.

SW: Any other interesting memos?

Pigeon: yeah, some guy named "jay" wants you to stop ripping off his material.

SW: Bwahahaha! Dream on, pal!

*Shuffling of papers*

Pigeon: there's also a very interesting one about ko—

SW: Say, Pigeon, I meant to ask, what was up with all your promos lately?

Pigeon: two words. crystal. meth.

SW: Ahh.

Pigeon: wait, i did rants? seriously?

SW: Oh yeah. So you're hot for Jerri Li, huh?

Pigeon: jerri li could make me feel pain that michelle could only dream of inflicting upon my flesh.

Michelle: Pigeon—

Pigeon: Hold that thought.

Styles: Where are you going? Pigeon just hit the ring? He spins Axl around. PIGEON DROP! Viruz charges. PIGEON DROP! And listen to the crowd!

Crowd: *REDACTED*

Styles: Oh, right. Never mind.

SW: It's a standing redaction.

Styles: ONE! TWO! THREE! THEYGOTTHEM!

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners, The Great and Pete Trable.

SW: Less really IS more. Especially when this show was supposed to be over about six days ago. Can I EVER go home? I miss my "Girls Gone Wild" DVDs.

Styles: Michelle's in the ring! HELLO! Low blow to Pigeon.

SW: The Great and Pete are leaving? Bwahahaha! Hilarious. Well, they never wanted to be part of this feud anyway.

Styles: Kay Fabe calling for you on line one. And the beatdown is on. Viruz and Axl are back up and they are pounding away on Pigeon. Oh man. Axl and Viruz already kicked Pigeon out of their group after his commentary during UnFOURgiven, but this is adding an unnecessary exclamation point or two or three.

SW: Like any crappy e-fed would to every other sentence!!!!

Styles: Do you mind?

SW: No problem, Styles!!!

Styles: Viruz holding Pigeon up.

SMACK!

Styles: Shot in the Dark by Axl connects and Viruz locks him right into the Viruz Scan.

SW: A dragon sleeper? Why couldn't Viruz just bring out a TV with one of his Rants? That would probably put Pigeon to sleep quicker.

Styles: OH MY GOD! Michelle just PUNTED Pigeon's groin like it was a football! The Hierarchy has made a statement tonight, even if things didn't go as planned.

SW: Pigeon's probably just trying to impress Jerri with how much pain he can take.

Michelle: Pigeon, you just made the biggest mistake of your life! At our next event, it's gonna be you versus Viruz and Axl in a handicap flaming glass barbed wire table and light tubes pirahna death match!

Styles: Oy vey!

The Epic Quest Continues

[Backstage. XXXtreme Machine. Death. Fill in the blanks, it's my coffee break.]

XM: hay u ot a cumpote i cn uze

Death: I really hope that was "computer", not "cumpot". Because otherwise I'm going to kill you. Again.

XM: whatva u drez weerin sisy

Death: TOUCH OF DEATH!

[Reanimate]

Death: TOUCH OF DEATH!

[Reanimate]

Death: I could be happy doing this all night, folks.

Issac Hayes: Brother, you one mean turkey!

Death: Did I let you out? Work, work, work. Let's get you home, Chef.

TABLES, LADDERS, CHAIRS, BRAS AND PANTIES MATCH
Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" vs. Jerri Li

[Back to ringside. Around the ring are four tables, with one steel chair (not to be confused with Steel Chair), and one ladder on each. Yep, the Powers That Steal (the iAd) didn't spare any expense when it comes to seeing two hot chicks pound the crap out of each other with weapons. You're shocked by this?]

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, this is the Tables, Ladders, Chairs, Bras and Panties Match, and it is for the T&A XX Division Championshit! SHIP! Shit!

["Metalstorm/Face the Slayer" by Slayer hits. The crowd jumps to their feet are are promptly relocated by helpful agents in the crowd.]

SW: Yes! Finally!

NH: Introducing first, from Sin City's Chinatown district, she weighs about 100 pounds and is a former two-time ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, Sarah "The Jobber Slayer."

Pigeon: *cough* wow. that hurt.

Styles: How are your balls, Pigeon?

Pigeon: choking on them at the moment, styles. a small price to pay to see the woman who will eventually be tied up to my ceiling and covered with candle wax, clothespins, and nipple clamps.

SW: Can I watch?

Pigeon: this one might be even too extreme for you, scotty.

SW: For me? *Pfffft* I've seen girls vomit on each other. And that was HERE!

Pigeon: also, don't forget loyal bob viewers, brand new pigeon catchphrase coming up.

Styles: pigeon, what are your thoughts on sarah "the jobber slayer."

Pigeon: i think she would have been better off if she'd been trained by lord wesley windham-hayes, personally. he was the head boy, you know.

Styles: How dare you!

["Holy Wars" by Megadeth.]

Pigeon: so thrash metal is finally retro again. slayer and megadeth? hate to say it, but the boss would rather fuck with dave mustaine than tom araya any day.

SW: You wan to fuck a dude? Dude!

Pigeon: i said with, scotty. learn how to read.

SW: Bwahahaha! Reading is for pussies.

Styles: This is the first Tables, Ladders, Chairs, Bras and Panties match in BOB history.

SW: What took so long? Why wasn't the iAd in charge sooner I ask?

Pigeon: oh please, they've been in charge since 2002, scotty. too bad they don't actually know how to book a wrestling promotion.

SW: Good thing BOB isn't a wrestling promotion, then.

Styles: And here we go. Jerri charges, but runs right into a stylish yet affordable boot from Sarah.

Pigeon: styles, what in the hell are the rules to this one?

Styles: Apparently, before you can climb up and try and retrieve the title, you have to strip your opponent down to her bra and panties. So, they'll have to hit each other with chairs and put each other through tables to incapacitate, and then strip each other.

Pigeon: sounds familiar. ususally i use a needle full of insulin instead of weapons to incapacitate my chicks. it's like necrophilia without the guilt.

Styles: Oh my GOD! That's horrible!

Pigeon: i'm a sick fucko, styles, did you forget?

Styles: Sarah unloading on Jerri in the corner with rights and kicks. And Jerri, no doubt, is enjoying every blow. Whip to the ropes, and Sarah clotheslines Jerri down!

SW: A clothesline from the Hellmouth, get it right, Styles. Didn't you teach her that move?

Styles: Silly me. Sarah drags up Jerri by the hair. Head butt by Sarah? I've never seen her use that move.

STJS: Does anybody have a Tylenol? Owee.

Styles: And that's why. Sarah with a blatant choke hold now on Jerri, but everything's legal in this match.

Pigeon: everything? where's a 14-year-old when you need one.

Styles: Sarah climbing the ropes. SARAHCONRANA! Triple Kick! This one would be all over if there were any pins, but there aren't.

Pigeon: hold on, styles. jerri, like myself, enjoys pain. do you really think a few moves from a girl with superpowers is going to put her out that quick? i say no.

Styles: The argument is pointless anyway, as Sarah just headed to the floor and she's getting a ladder.

Crowd: *REDACTED*

Styles: INCOMING! LADDER PLANCHA BY JERRI LI!

Pigeon: OH MY YAHWEH!

SW: Zuh?

Pigeon: my new commentating catchphrase. i can blaspheme my own religious figures for mindless yelling, too.

[Scotty claps in approval.]

SW: I like it.

Styles: Are you parodying ME?

Pigeon: you're already a parody of yourself, trust me, you don't need any help. and why haven't you become the head of bobwrestling.com already? i can take over your job easily. i can even frost my hair if it'll get me the job.

SW: I think you're going to be buried in a feud with the Hierarchy for a while, Pigeon.

Pigeon: oh, right. well, one of these days, styles, the iAd will wake up and realize the best commentator in the business is me. what about me? what about pigeon for commentary!

Styles: Meanwhile, Jerri Li has created two stacks of tables on the floor.

CRACK!

Styles: Oooh, but Sarah just threw a ladder right in Jerri's face! Damn! Both women brawling around the outside of the ring now, exchanging vicious punches, scratches, kicks and rips. Jerri grabs a chair and opens it. Sarah charges. Drop toe hold to the chair!

Pigeon: i knew she wanted me. or at least she wants my moveset. vintage pigeon right there.

Styles: It looks like Jerri's been opened up over her left eye. Those piercings have dug into her flesh and ripped her wide open.

Pigeon: oh styles, you're turning me on with that imagery.

SW: *Snort*

Styles: My sincere apologies. Jerri just ripped off Sarah's boots. And Sarah is completely barefoot now.

Pigeon: i knew i should've worn my raincoat. scotty, i know you've got a foot fetish, but please keep it in your pants and don't make it rain in here.

SW: I'm fine, I swear. I've got a guy who illegally copies all these shows for me.

Styles: Oh my GOD. Please, enough with the masturbation jokes! Jerri with the ladder inside and angling it in the corner. But Sarah's back in!

CRACK!

Styles: Oh, WOMAN. Jerri just got slammed on the ladder! Now Sarah going out for another ladder of her own. She's got it set up. Whip to the corner, Jerri reverses!

CRACK!

Styles: And Sarah smashes into the ladder.

SW: This is awesome.

Pigeon: sarah's feet are pretty nice. i wouldn't mind letting her big toe wander in a really dark and fudgy place.

Styles: Pigeon, I swear I will cut off your microphone.

Pigeon: don't worry, styles. i'll be back to my crystal meth and blackout-produced rants soon enough.

SW: Whatever you do, don't drag up a bunch of sWo rejects and create your own title because BOB won't let you have any.

Pigeon: i'd never dream of it. the only title i want is in between jerri's legs.

Styles: Oh boy...Jerri trying to get Sarah's leather pants off, but those pants are tough to get off.

SW: You have some first-hand experience trying to get Sarah's pants off? Do share!

Styles: That's not what I meant! I just meant that generally, women's leather pants are hard to get off because they're so tight.

SW: You know this from WEARING women's leather pants?

Styles: No! Sarah, obviously, told me in much more detail than I ever wanted to know about.

Pigeon: sarah got trapped in the tree of cameltoe, and oh woe was you.

CRACK!

Pigeon: OH MY YAHWEH!

Styles: Sarah just got catapulted face first into a ladder Jerri had set up on the top rope! And now Jerri must once again try to get Sarah out of her tight leather pants.

SW: This actually may be some great strategy by Sarah. This may make it impossible for Jerri to get to the point where she can climb up and try to get her title.

Styles: Right, Scotty. Wow, very nice point, Scotty.

SW: But it sucks, because I want to see Sarah's ass.

Styles: Sarah kicks Jerri away. Kip up. Spin kick. Another spin kick. Superkick. Sarah quickly out to the floor and grabs a chair. Up top now. She tosses the chair at Jerri, who catches it.

CRACK!

Styles: Jobinator! And Jerri took that one right to the face. But now Sarah has the same problem that Jerri was having. Jerri wears nothing but leather! A frustrated Sarah kicks Jerri right in the face. Oh, but that hurt her as well, as Sarah's bare foot met Jerri's pierced face! And Sarah's foot has been busted open! A hobbled Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" grabs the steel chair and—

WHAM!

Styles: Just unloads on Jerri! Now Sarah heading to the floor. She's heading under the ring? I guess there just aren't enough weapons laying around for Sarah.

Pigeon: i hope she doesn't have a barbed wire banana under there. wait...yes i do. yes i do.

SW: She's got scissors! Oh baby! Don't stop at the bra and panties, Sarah, go all the way!

Styles: Sarah kicks Jerri in the back of the head once again. And now Sarah going to work on Jerri. She's cutting off her top! Jerri is down to her bra! Sarah now also going for Jerri's boots. And those are off.

SW: Woohoo!

[Sarah, holding up Jerri's boots in triumph, falls over backward.]

SW: The hell?

Styles: Do Jerri's feet really smell or something.

Pigeon: her crotch could smell like a skunk mixed with feet and scotty's ass, and it still wouldn't stop me.

Styles: Both girls are down, oddly, now. Sarah was so very close to getting Jerri's bottoms off, but the smell of Jerri's feet has leveled her. Both women struggling to get back up. Sarah kicks Jerri's boots as far away as possible.

Pigeon: brb.

SW: Hahaha, Pigeon's going to grab Jerri's shoes! Sick freak.

Styles: Both women back up. Sarah throws Jerri through the ropes to the apron. Springboard butt splash misses! Oh man, Jerri avoided that one and Sarah's tailbone just landed hard on the side of the ring. Jerri's got a chair!

WHACK!

Styles: And now Jerri's setting up a ladder, briding the apron and the Flimsy Guardrail®. This can't be good.

SW: Can't be good? It's awesome!

Styles: Jerri back inside. Sarah fighting back. Lefts and rights. Owww! Double titty twister by Jerri brings Sarah's momentum to a painful end!

[Pigeon, meanwhile, is on the floor inhaling the smells from Jerri's boots.]

SW: I think Pigeon's trying to get high on foot stink!

Styles: I'm just glad he's gone. I can barely deal with one twisted commentator.

SW: I'm only slightly twisted. That dude is fucking insane.

Styles: Is he snorting her boot laces? Oh, get the camera off of him, we've got a match going on.

WHACK!

Styles: OH MY GOD! Unbelievable chair shot by Jerri on Sarah may have just knocked her out. Jerri dives for the scissors. Is she cutting HERSELF? OH MY GOD!

SW (Singing): She don't want anybody else, when she thinks about Pigeon she cuts herself.

Styles: Stay down Sarah, for God's sakes!

WHACK!

Styles: Another chair shot! Oh no. They're coming our way. Jerri just bounced Sarah's head off our table.

Pigeon: jerri can you bounce your head off my cock?

Styles: Jerri, thankfully, ignoring Pigeon. Sarah's laid out on our table. Oh no! Jerri to the ring? She can't make that distance. Can she! INCOMING!

SMASH!

Styles: OHMYGOD!

Crowd: *REDACTED*

SW: With God as my witness, our table has been broken in conveniently in half.

Styles: Jerri's down. Sarah's down. Pigeon's loopy on boot fumes. This match is a car wreck!

SW: Jerri crawling to the ring. She's got the scissors.

Styles: I don't even know how she's able to move right now after that splash through the EZ Break Announce Table. But Jerri is now cutting off Sarah's leather pants! Oh man. And those leather pants are cheap. Sarah's gonna be pissed.

SW: Don't forget the top, Jerri! Oh baby! Or the bra! Or the panties! Everything must go! Woohoo! Ahhh!

[Jerri slashes at Scotty with the scissors.]

Styles: Maybe that will teach you to shut up.

SW: I highly doubt it. Look! We've got black bra. We've got purple panties! Sarah is soo fucking hot. And unconscious. Oh, why can't this ever happen to me in a hotel room?

Styles: Because Sarah isn't stupid enough to go anywhere near where you are.

SW: Look at that body, Styles. I know she's like your daughter, but come on. Your daughter is hot!

Styles: Will you PLEASE stop that?

SW: No. But only because you said please.

Styles: Jerri can now climb the ladder and get the title! And that's what she's trying to do right now. She's got the ladder set up. Somehow, Sarah is back up. She's in the ring. Sarah's got a hold of Jerri's leather shorts! And the scissors? Jerri jumps off the ladder. SPEAR! Sarah is down! OHMYGOD! But Sarah just dug those scissors into Jerri's forehead! Sarah flips Jerri over!

SW: She's spanking Jerri! Best match ever!

Styles: Sarah grabs a chair.

WHACK!

Styles: And there's a receipt!

WHACK!

Styles: And another chair shot. Jerri is down and hurt. Sarah's got the scissors! Jerri's shorts are coming off! It's either women's match now, as both are eligible to climb the ladder to get the T&A title!

SW: Are those...Little Mermaid underwear Jerri's wearing.

Styles: No, that couldn't possibly...could it? Oh my GOD! Jerri is wearing Little Mermaid underwear? Are you kidding me?

SW: BWAHAHAHA!

Styles: Sarah is laughing uncontrollably! Focus, Sarah! Get the title! Jerri's up and she's just realized she's been, well, exposed. And she's pissed! Look out!

CRACK!

Styles: OHMYGOD! Spear through the ropes and onto the ladder bridge! Sarah is in deep trouble now.

STJS: ... Little Mermaid! BWAHAHAHAowww!

JL: Shut up bitch!

Styles: And Jerri rams the back of Sarah's head on the ladder. Jerri heading back inside. She's got a ladder set up. Can she get up there in time?

SW: Hey, we've got company! Trey Vincent! Kay Fabe! Seth Harker! Nice.

Styles: Oh, right, Sarah's a heel, isn't she. But how can I say this is wrong? I know it is, but, they're helping Sarah.

SW: Come to the dark side, Styles.

Styles: Trey yanks Jerri off the ladder. Seth spin kicks the ladder down. Kay's Bottom on Jerri on the ladder! OH my GOD!

WHACK!

Styles: Chair shot by Pigeon on Vincent! Chair shot to Harker! Pigeon Drop on Kay Fabe! Pigeon may have just saved Jerri's title while taking out the iAd!

[Axl and Viruz walk down the aisle with a glass table wrapped in barbed wire.]

Styles: Oh dear lord. Can this match get any more violent?

SW: Looks like we're about to get a preview of that handicap match.

SMASH!

SW: Or, not...

Styles: OHMYGOD! Kamikazie Ken just fell from the rafters through the glass table!

Axl: Son of a BITCH! Viruz, you've failed me again!

Viruz: And this is my fault, how?

Styles: Axl and Viruz charge the ring and are once again attacking Pigeon! The Hierarchy must be pissed about being cost a shot at the tag titles earlier tonight.

SW: Kay's trying to help Sarah get back in the ring and climb up to get the title.

Styles: Jerri grabs Kay.

SW: Vaginal claw! Oh baby! Oh NO!

CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH!

Styles: Jerri just hit a, well, Jerri's Bottom on Kay through the four stacked tables! The Hierarchy are fighting with Pigeon somewhere through the crowd.

SW: Hopefully never to be seen again. Can I volunteer them for suckness relocation?

Styles: I wish. Seth quickly going to check on Kay.

Seth: Oh, crap. I've got a backstage segment to do.

[Seth runs away.]

Kay: Well, that was rude...

Styles: Er, uh, and Trey helping set up a brand new ladder for Sarah to climb. And Sarah struggling to even crawl to the ladder at this point. She's beginning the climb. Just a couple more steps and she'll be there. I don't believe it. Jerri's back in the ring. And Trey doesn't even notice. He's just watching the fight with the Hierarchy and Pigeon. Jerri grabs the ladder, but she can't even do anything else. Sarah's got the title! She's got it.

SW: She lost it!

STJS: Oopsie!

Styles: The title lands on Jerri?

[The bell rings. Trey puts up his hands in victory and turns around.]

TV: The FUCK?

SW: What does this mean?

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner........and STILL T&A XX DIvision Champion, Jerri Li!

Sarah: NoooooooBWAHAHAHA! (Pointing at Jerri from the top of the ladder) Little Mermaid panties! BWAHAHAHAHA!

SW: She's pretty giddy for a woman who just didn't win the title due to clumsiness.

Styles: What a shocking way to end this match. Jerri Li may have won this match, but I don't think this feud is over by a long shot.

The Epic Conclusion

[Backstage. Hallucination Boy runs past.]

HB: Train!

[Coma follows him.]

Coma: (singing) Oh, I been workin' on the raillllllll-road! All, the live-long day!

XM: hay u guyes

[Coma begins dancing wildly.]

Coma: (singing) Movin' out ina new way! Movin' out in a new way! We're gonna turn it on! We're gonna bring you the power!

XM: o keeep ti 4 utoob nostailga boi

Coma: D...

HB: ...ork.

Both: Dork.

XM: stfu u no wehr i cn fiond a cipmoyter

[Blank looks]

XM: a copmotor

HB: Bwa?

XM: a compoter

HB: Oh! A computer. Why didn't you say so? Well...

[Hallucination Boy stops, blinks. twitches.]

HB: (Loud Southern accent) Computers?! Boy, computers are the work of the Devil, my son! Every time you press that Enter key, you're really grabbing the Joystick of Jesus and giving it a tweak! And the good Lord hates having his joystick tweaked! You have to be strong-ah-ha! You have to resist the lure of Satans Software! Get down on your knees and REPENT. son! And if you could send me a check for $500 or more, I'll make sure Jesus forgives you sins! $5000 and you can even sin three more times with no guilt! HALLELUIJAH!

[Coma slaps HB on the back of his head]

HB: I'm Snoop Dogg, and you're watching Celebrity Drive-Bys! Fo shizzle!

[Coma slaps HB on the back of his head again.]

HB: You want computers! At Crazy Dave's House of PC's and Pancakes, we've got them! We've also got pancakes! Delicious pancakes! Buy two computers and we'll throw in a 50 dollar voucher to our other store, Crazy Dave's Used Sex-Toys Emporium! Remember, if you got it at Dave's, it's probably treatable!

XM: i jst wan a comptoota

Seth: I have a computer. Here. Take the red pill, and you're through the looking glass. or as I call it, my password screen. Take the blue pill, you return to whatever badly-spelled reality you call the real world. Take this little pink pill and you'll dance like a motherfucker and hug people all night.

[XXXtreme Machine swallows all three pills.]

Seth: Man, I hope we have a stomach pump on hand. OK, here's the computer. Don't get moron on the keys.

[Tappity tappity tap.]

XM: pagg noot fund dam

[Tappity tappity tap.]

Seth: Are you even spelling it right?

XM: i splet it lik i red ti

Seth: We could be here all night. What are you trying to find?

XM: waht agnlona sed 2 mi

Seth: Is that all? She said you were a loser and you smelled funny.

XM o cool tankz sethj

Sethj: You be velcome, mein freunden!

Seth: Get out of my office, both of you!

[XXXtreme and the typo-driven cameo leave. There's a brief pause, a screech of tires and two heavy thumps.]

Steve Hawkings Synthesised Voice: Ha. Ha. Ha. Weiners.

Rise! Zombie Mr. Fantastic!

[A guy dressed in a Coroner's Office uniform is seen walking with an ambulance driver. The driver is pushing the stretcher containing Mr. Fantastic's dead body.]

SCREECH!

Ambulance Driver: Eep!

Coroner: Said something, now you have to pay me! *Dives*

[The Ambulance Driver swerves the stretcher in the nick of time. Probably didn't want to ding up his stretcher.]

AD: (Shaking his fist) Look out you maniac!

[Two dull thuds are heard in the distance.]

[Naturally, Mr. Fantastic's body fell off the stretcher onto the concrete.]

Ambulance Driver: Oh shit, quick, pick him.

[Two weird druids with voices like Bill and Ted walk up carrying a magic book.]

Ted: We'll handle this dudes.

[They start chanting from the book.]

Bill and Ted: Rot en dood en einde dat en geboren is is het rot aangezien de baby van dood en de slechte truc… zich M. Fantastic voordoen!

[Mr. Fantastic slowly... very slowly, gets up off the floor. His skin looks a little less orange than usual and his sunglasses fall off his nose and shatter.]

Bill and Ted: Welcome to the afterlife.... Zombie Mr. Fantastic!

[Zombie Mr. Fantastic attacks the hipster druids and eats their faces.]

[Suddenly Kevin The Pyromaniac appears.]

Kevin The Pyromaniac: Mr. Fantastic, you're alive?

ZMF: Uhhhhhhhhh!

[Zombie Mr. Fantastic then attacks Kevin, eats his face, and even chews through his skull to his brain.]

Styles: Oh My God! They killed Kevin again.

SW: Luckily he didn't get the Ken War contract, now he's dead forever! I hope.

Kevin (dying words): Pyro... mania... ~!!1one!

Skull & STONECUTTER Society

[Backstage, Mike Monroe was with Death. Just in case the pictures didn't make it obvious enough...]

Death: You know...Mike, you look pretty good for a guy who just got beaten up by a chair in that Rant by Steel Chair.

MM: Really? Hang on...

Death: Actually, you're really ugly, BWAHAHAHA! I don't know why I said you look "good." Bad choice of words.

MM: Regardless, Death, it's time for you to go out there with your mystery partner. Who's it gonna be?

Death: Well, you've heard of the Skull & Bones Society? Well, tonight, you are about to bare witness to the birth of the Skull & STONECUTTER Society!

MM: Seriously?

[Luke Warm stomps into the shot and stares at the camera.]

LW: ...

Death: Did you forget how to talk again?

LW: *Ahem* *A-HEM-HEM-HEM-HEM-HEM*

Death: *Sigh* Well, it's a good thing that you don't get wins based on your ability to cut good promos or anything and it's based on wrestling.

MM: Uh, Death?

Death: Don't say it, Mike...

Angry Voice: What the FRICK is this?

[Somebody grabs Warm and Heavenly Slams him through a convenient glass window.]

SMASH!

Death: What the hell is this?

Kurt Angel: Death, you've got some explaining to do buster. You're gonna pick a Lukehoo swilling bumbeldink over the greatest parody ewrestler in the world wide web today?

Death: Dude, you're in the Hierarchy. You're a heel!

Kurt Angel: You know what else I am, mister? Your Heavenly Hero! I'm a parody machine! And I'm just as bald as Luke Warm. Now.

Death: I hope you didn't use Brazors. So you think you can beat Steve Studnuts and some broken down choker of some sort? You couldn't even beat Viruz.

Kurt Angel: I shaved my head! I'm serious about this heel turn. DAMN serious. Plus, main event money equals more drugs.

Death: ...Uh, fine. Since Luke's hurt anyway. Come on Huckleberry.

[Death and Kurt Angel walk away. Steve Studuts walks up to the bloody Mike Monroe.]

Studnuts: What the fuck happened to you, jerkweed? Wife on the rag?

MM: Actually—

Studnuts: Don't care. You wanna know who my partner is? Are you more retarded than Axl? It's that old fuck SMP. End suspense. Let's get on with the match already...it feels like this show's been going on for a week and a half or some shit...

[Studnuts walks away.]

NOT GOOD ENOUGH TO FIGHT ALONE TAG TITLE MATCH
Death + Kurt Angel vs. Dr. Silaconne M. Plants + Steve Studnuts

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, this is your main event, and it is for the Not Good Enough to Fight Alone Tag Team Titles.

["I Don't Like The Drugs (But The Drugs Like Me)" by Marilyn Manson hits. Kurt Angel walks to ring.]

SW: I'm out of material...

Styles: Me too.

SW: Let's enjoy the music since Leary's brain has imploded...

["Killed by Death" by Motorhead hits. And Death walks down the aisle. And eventually gets into the ring about five minutes later. Bathroom-rific!]

Styles: ...

SW: Fire pretty. Tree bad!

["Smooth Operator by Sade. Dr. Silaconne M. Plants. Walks. Or something.]

SW: Show your tits!

[Death throws his cloak open.]

SW: Not you! Wait, didn't we do this joke before?

Styles: Probably. Just be quiet.

SW: Yarp.

["Dead Between the Walls" by Pelican. Awesome song. Perfect for Studnuts. So sayeth allmusic.com: The sheer bass sludge that kicks off "Dead Between the Walls" is all poison, louder than God. See? Perfect for Studs.]

Styles: ...

SW: ...

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, we're almost out of time. So, that's Kurt Angel, that's Death, and he's apparently one half of the Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Team Champions, Dr. Silaconne M. Plants. And that is the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, Swiss Army Belt holder and one half of the Not Good Enough to Fight Alone Tag Team Champions, Steve Studnuts!

SW: I bet Studs picked Plants to be his partner just to fuck with SMP's head. Studnuts just want to rub SMP's face in the fact that Studnuts allegedly made a sex tape with Heidi, something SMP's never been able to do with her.

Styles: Sounds about right to me. Looks like Angel to start this one out against SMP.

SW: Oh, hold on, Styles. I'm getting an update on Kevin the Pyromaniac's condition. (Beat) Still dead.

Styles: Scotty, that's terrible! He had his face eaten off!

SW: His mommy must have never told him to talk to strange zombies. Stupid dead teenager.

Styles: Angel with an overhead throw to kick this one off, but SMP is right back up. SMP nails him with a kick to the midsection. Did Death just tag himself in with a pink foam finger?

SW: Smart. That way, Kurt won't die when they go for a tag.

Styles: Oh, right. There's a reason Death isn't in many tag matches. One wrong move with his finger and it's curtains. And Studnuts gets tagged in by SMP. Death, the number one contender, and Studnuts are on a collision course at some point over the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. But tonight, Death may get his bony fingers on the Not Good Enough to Fight Alone Tag Titles. Death gets the first move with—

SW: Surprise, surprise, a knee lift! Didn't see that coming a mile away.

Styles: And Kurt just tagged himself back in. Angel Lock attempt! Studnuts kicks Kurt away. Death Valley of the Sun Driver! Kurt slips free. Kurt gets behind Studnuts. Belly to belly? No! Kurt ducks down and locks on the Angel Lock! But Studs quickly gets to the ropes. I haven't seen Kurt this focused in a long time, Scotty.

SW: Is he...sober?

Styles: It couldn't be. Could it? Now that's spooky.

SW: Yeah. Almost as spooky as the fact that somebody OK'd the script for the last "X-Files" movie. Holy SHIT did that suck!

Styles: Studnuts and Kurt circling each other. Kurt dives and grabs Studnuts' arm. Uppercut square on Studnuts' jaw. Kurt has Studnuts up top, but Studnuts kicks him away. Flying clothesline floors Angel!

SW: Look! A fallen Angel! Bwahahaha!

Styles: Not one of your better lines.

SW: Yeah. Heidi's tits are huge! I wonder who'll get to play motorboat with them tonight. Studnuts or SMP? Maybe both?

Styles: Now there's a disgusting visual. Studnuts with a headbutt to Angel. Not sure if that's a wise move against Kurt, who is usually self-medicated and probably can't even FEEL his own head.

SW: Hey! Get Death out of there! That's a heel move, attacking from behind. Isn't he the face?

Styles: It's very, very unclear whose on what side in this one. SMP just took Death down with a clothesline. And I will never forget the classic SMP vs. Death match from MegaBrawl. SMP should have won the OWTTM that night.

SW: Yeah. He should've won it at UnFOURgiven, too. But he can't. Look, it's my SMP impersonation I've been working on. *Ahem* *Coughcoughcoughcoughcough*I blew it again! *Cough cough cough*

Styles: So VERY realistic. *Sigh* Death and Studnuts are the legal men. Well, man and entity. Death just standing on Studnuts' throat there. Side slam connects! Death pulls up Studnuts and whips him to the corner. Clothesline! And now Death unleashing brutal elbow to Studnuts' head. Kurt's got the foam finger tag from Death.

SW: I knew it! That's one of those Nurse Heidi foam fingers. I knew it looked familiar. It's got the index and middle finger together, and then the pinky out. And you know what that means.

Styles: Not a clue.

SW: Two in the pink, one in the stink! Get with it, Styles!

Styles: Kurt's on Death's back for added weight as Death is just choking Studnuts with his foot! C'mon, Ref! Now Angel stomping away on the Grand Slam champion's back.

SW: His back was already sore from carrying this promotion for so long. It's not fair!

Styles: Cover! One. Two and no! Angel with a headlock on Studnuts, but Studnuts rolls Angel over! One! Two! No! Angel slips free. Death tags himself in.

SW: Using his stinky foam finger.

Styles: Big foot takes Studnuts down! I didn't think we'd be seeing this, Scotty.

SW: Don't worry about Studnuts. Aside from having all the titles, he's also got all the power of the iAd behind him. He can't lose!

Styles: Chin lock applied on Studnuts. Death looking to twist Studnuts' head right off!

SW: Connie almost did that a few times to him as well. Different head, though.

Styles: Angel back in. And the Skull & Stoned Society is quite the force here at Power is Stolen. Could we see new tag team champions tonight? Kurt with a chop block to Studnuts. But now Studnuts grabs Kurt. He's unloading with punches on Angel. Short-arm clothesline by Studnuts, who desperately needs to make the tag. SMP looks like he'll make the tag. And there it is. Big boot for Angel. Dropkick for Death! There's a lariat for Angel! One! Two! No.

SW: A clothesline to get a pin? That lame ass crap won't work here.

Styles: Get your own material! Angel and Plants trading rights. SMP takes Angel down with a low blow punt!

SW: DQ! DQ!

Generic Ref: Mmmm. Dairy Queen ice cream...

SW: D'oh!

Styles: Kurt's got SMP! Heaven suplex, not to be confused with a German suplex!

SW: Because Germans don't go to Heaven. Sieg heil!

Styles: Death back in. Corner clotheslines connects. Is Death climbing the ropes?

SW: It sure looks like it.

Styles: Oh, this can't be good. Missile dropkick by Death? Are you kidding me? Death has SMP up for a sideslam, but SMP slips free. Death runs into a powerslam!

SW: Don't be so impressed. I could probably powerslam Death. He's nothing but bones!

Styles: Tag to Studnuts. Studnuts powers Death into the corner. Here comes Studnuts, oh! But right into Death's right foot. Death heading up again? Another missile dropkick connects!

SW: Studnuts with a great no-sell! Oh man. Nobody's better at not selling that that guy.

Styles: If Death were wearing boots, he would've just been clotheslined right out of them. One! Two! No! Studnuts drags up Death. Gorilla press slam! Unbelievable! Now Studnuts is climbing the ropes? Oh boy. Angel's in! Belly to belly from the top rope! Oh my GOD! Low blow by SMP and he tosses Angel to the floor.

SW: Ahh! Get away!

THUMP!

Styles: SMP's got Scotty! And SMP is shoving Kurt's face in Scotty's ass! OH MY GOD! Now THAT'S extreme! I doubt Scotty thought he'd be the recipient of an Angel enema this evening. Studnuts setting up Death up top. What's the champ have in mind here. Sunset flip bomb! Death hanging on for dear, uh, death?

SW: I feel like I've been raped! I need counseling.

Styles: Did I just see a... hoodeathconrana? OHMYGOD! HOODEATHCONRANA on Studnuts! Oh my GOD! Death's got Studnuts! NETHERWORLD POWERBOMB! COVER! ONE! TWO! SMP breaks it up! Death grabs SMP by the throat and just tosses him over the top rope.

SW: I need a shower. *Sniff*

Styles: You'll be OK, Scotty. Death trying to go high risk once again. SMP crotches Death! SMP back inside. SMP's got him! SCALPEL'S EDGE! One! Two! Death kicks out! Oh man! What a main event here at Power is Stolen. Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Titles are on the line, as Steve Studnuts and his chosen partner Dr. Silaconne M. Plants defend against Death and Kurt Angel. SMP and Angel now unloading on each other.

SW: I want SMP disbarred!

Styles: From what?

SW: The medical board!

Styles: Plants? Medical board?

SW: Oh, crap, you're right! Damnit!

Styles: Plants drops the knee from the middle rope. He covers Kurt! One! Two! No! SMP is arguing with Generic Ref about the count. Kurt's got SMP's ankle! Angel Lock! Angel Lock! Angel Lock!

SMACK!

SW: Stop skipping.

Styles: SMP using the ropes to get back up. He rolls free. But Kurt grabs him. Heavenly Slam! COVER! One! Two! Death breaks it up. Oh no! Crippler Crossface by Death?

SW: That's just wrong on so many levels, Styles.

Styles: Meanwhile, Angel is stuck beneath Death and SMP and can't get out. SMP rolling!

SW: I think Kurt's rolling, too. A joint.

Styles: Somebody get that away from him. SMP's got Death in a pin! One! Two! No! And Angel is free now. He's setting up Studnuts up top. Superplex attempt coming up. No! Studnuts drops Angel face first on the mat. Studnuts waiting on Angel to get up. Flying clothesline! Reversed! Oh my GOD! Angel reversed the flying clothesline into a hiptoss that sent Studnuts rolling all the way to the floor!

SW: Does my ass look like Kurt's face. Seriously?

Styles: I'm not looking at your ass, Scotty!

SW: I feel so dirty.

Styles: Now you know how I feel EVERY time we work together. Studnuts just tossed Angel into the crowd! Oh no! No! Studnuts is heading to the top rope! CROSSBODY INTO THE FIRST ROW!

SW: Holy shit! Wait, am I asleep? Is this still BOB? The PARODY fed?

Styles: The one and only. Meanwhile, back in the ring, Death has SMP! Netherworld Powerbomb coming up! NIPPLE CUTTER! WHAT A REVERSAL! But Plants can't climb on top of Death to get the pin.

SW: Don't tell me he's going to choke in a tag title match. How lame is that?

Styles: Both men struggling to get up in the middle of the ring. SMP charges, but right into a knee. Death's got SMP up. What is this? There's his latest move! The Go2DirtNap! Death just drove his knee into SMP's face! This should be it! Cover! One! Two! Studnuts breaks it up just in time! Touch of Death misses. Death Valley (Of The Sun) Driver does not! Studnuts covers the number one contender! One! Two! Angel Lock on Studnuts! Good God, this is total nonstop action! This may be the greatest match in

SW: The history of our sport? Oh, Styles, are you channeling Mark Shill?

Styles: *Ahem* NIPPLE CUTTER on Angel! Cover! One! Two! Death pulls off SMP. Kurt Angel's got Studnuts! Heavenly Slam! Cover! One! Two! Three? HEGOTHIM?

SW: WHAT?

Styles: OH MY GOD! Kurt Angel just pinned Steve Studnuts! I don't believe it!

SW: No! Generic Ref's saying two! Hahahaha! Oh, MAN that was close. Just had to fuck with J.

Styles: What? Angel is FURIOUS! Nipple Cutter on Angel! Nipple Cutter on Death! Nipple Cutter on Studnuts!! OH MY GOD! Plants stacks them up and covers everybody? One! Two! Three! OH MY GOD!

SW: Was that REALLY a three?

[Bell rings.]

Styles: Wow! I have never seen SMP this motivated in the ring.

SW: He must have been saving all his energy not roleplaying so he could give it his all here tonight.

Styles: What? Fans, what an amazing night. SMP just made a HUGE statement here at Power is Stolen. Maybe SMP's quest to win all the gold isn't quite over yet.

SW: This is horrible. I demand SMP face Spacecop and Spaceduck next month with me as the special referee. Wait. Never mind me being anywhere near those two sick smiley fucks.

Styles: Fans, visit bobwrestling.com to find out the next BOB show. The iAd's in charge, so we're back to not knowing what to expect or when. Or if. For now, thanks for joining us here at Power is Stolen!

©2008 BOB Wrestling!