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Sunday Morning Chloroform 25

A hand spins a 12-inch table model plastic globe as the TVM rating flashes on the upper left hand corner of the screen.

Sunday Morning Chloroform Logo

Brother, can you spare fifty pence?

[We open on a cheering crowd of about 3,500 fans in the Drunkendub Hall in Wressle, Humberside, Great Britain. Many fans are actually wearing BOB merchandise, and we even have a few signs: Igpay Ulesray! Slay Me Sarah! We Want Lager. We Want More Lager! Push Little Good! Just a random sampling of what we've got here tonight. Styles is in the middle of the ring, looking a bit shocked at the good reaction from the crowd.]

Styles: Hello everyone and welcome to Brawlers On a Budget's Sunday Morning CHLOROFORM! I'm Mikey Styles. And we are LIVE from in Wressle, Great Britain!

["X Gonna Give It To Ya" by DMX blasts over the sound system. Out comes Pete X-Factor Trable to a pretty good reaction from the crowd.]

NH: Hello everybody! This is Nurse Heidi, along with Scotty Whatbody, and we are indeed SOLD OUT this morning.

SW: This is surreal. But I did learn something on this trip, Heidi.

NH: You did?

SW: Yeah. I found out why Jesus wasn't born in England.

NH: Why?

SW: Because they couldn't find three wise men and a virgin!

NH: Oh, Scotty...did Zeno beat all the funny material out of you last week?

SW: Oh, c'mon, Heidi. Don't be mad, just because you found out that Big Ben is only a clock.

Styles: Pete X-Factor Trable. Welcome to England.

[Styles gives Pete the mic and leaves the ring.]

PXFT: Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yo. Yooooo! (British accent) I say, THE X-FACTOR IS HERE!

[The crowd cheers.]

PXFT: Mikey Styles, thanks for the intro and hittin' the road, Jack
Yo, being in Wressle, England is totally whack
Tonight, I've gotta face a man they call Super Gluey
I'm gonna chop straight through him like his name was suey
Last week this dude had a toilet seat stuck to his ass
I think it's time for the X-Factor to take the fool to class
The ring is my classroom called Hard Knock Life 101
Fighting me is like going to a gunfight without a gun
Just as sure as I know my peeps in England love beer
Y'all betta recognize, The X-Factor IS HERE!
Word life
Barney Fife
I just had sex — WITH YOUR WIFE!
I'm Audi — 5000!

[Loud cheers from the inebriated crowd as "I'll Stick Around" by the Foo Fighters begins playing.]

Styles: What a way to kick off BOB on the 25th edition of Sunday Morning Chloroform!

SW: What, with Vanilla Ice's cousin?

NH: He's so cute, it doesn't matter that his rapping is below-average on a good day.

SW: He's a bad, bad rapper with a mic in his hand.

Styles: Super Gluey charges into the ring. He runs right into a hiptoss. Gluey is quickly back up. He tries for a punch.

SMASH

Styles: OH MY GOD! Gluey just smashed his hand into Trable's Flavor Flav style clock.

SW: And now Gluey can't get that big clock off his hand!

NH: I have a feeling time is about to run out on Gluey's chances of winning.

Styles: Trable grabs Gluey's hand and smashes Gluey in the face with it!

SW: Gluey truly has a face that could stop a clock. BWAHAHA!

Styles: COVER! One! Two! Three! He got him!

NH: You're in an awfully good mood, considering Sir Zeno beat your ass badly last week. And Luke Warm before that.

SW: Yeah, well, the rules all changed last week.

Styles: They did?

SW: They did. I now have a no-bump clause in my brand new contract that I just signed with Trey Vincent.

Styles: Figures. Trey is such a jerk. I still can't believe what he and your buddies did to Sarah.

SW: Get used to it. We're calling the shots. You'll see in a just a little bit.

["My Michelle" by Guns 'N' Roses plays. The fans rise and cheer as Michelle Vincent walks down the aisle, wearing a sexy purple lace cami and boy short set. Alright...the ONLY reason I know what it's called is because I am the Detached Narrator and I must know everything. It's not because I'm a freak or anything. Really.]

NH: I still can't believe Michelle turned on her sister.

SW: I can! Michelle turns me on all the time! Woohoo!

NH: Poor Styles. He can barely even look at Michelle anymore.

SW: Why not? It's not like she put on fifty pounds or anything. She's smoking!

Styles: She may be beautiful on the outside, but she is one of the ugliest people I've ever known on the inside.

SW: It's a good thing I'm shallow then!

MV: Hello, England!

[A mixture of boos and cheers now.]

MV: The following tag team contest is set for a 30 second time limit. Introducing first...

["Golden Showers" by the Mentors plays.]

MV: The team of Urine and Pigeon!

[The crowd cheers for this rather odd pairing. Styles? An explanation?]

Styles: Umm...well, in preparation of the upcoming match at Grudge Match A-Go-Go, douja and Dr. Thrilla have decided to hone their skills as a unit. And douja, in the last two weeks, has had problems with Urine, who peed on douja a couple weeks back, and of course, last time out douja was then pinned by Pigeon after he was mysteriously attacked in the dark.

NH: Is thirty seconds really enough time for douja to get his payback?

SW: No. But according to the script, there's enough time for the mystery attacker to strike again.

Styles: Scotty!

SW: Oh, was I not supposed to read that part?

MV: And their opponents.

["How High (Metal Clanging Remix)" by Redman and Method Man plays. The crowd boos.]

MV: Dr. Thrilla and douja!

SW: I can't wait to see Silaconne M. Plants back in BOB.

Styles: That's right, the Sinister Surgeon will be back for Grudge Match A-Go-Go to team up with Steve Studnuts and Muhammad Ali to face Mr. Paradox and these two men, Thrilla and douja.

NH: So who is the mystery attacker? Could it be Steve Studnuts? Silaconne M. Plants? Ali? Unit 5?

SW: Maybe it was Rob Van Spam getting payback for douja stealing his stash. Heidi, it could be anybody.

Styles: Anyway, we're set to go as doula prepares to hook up with the man who peed —

[The lights go out. There are sound of papers falling.]

SW: Whoops, I dropped my script.

NH: Hey! That's not your script!

SW: Damn, Heidi, is it cold in here or are you just that turned on by me?

NH: Do I need to knock you out again? These lights won't be off forever.

SW: Somebody tell douja not to smile! I've got my hands full at the moment. WOOHOO! Owww!

NH: Behave.

SW: (High-pitched) Yes ma'am!

Rumble rumble rumble

SW: I hear something? Yep. It sounds like everybody in the arena is running to the bar.

THUNK

SW: That sounded like somebody throwing a remote at their television.

BANG

SW: And now a whole bunch of viewers have joined in.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

SW: Styles, I didn't know your mother was here? I hear her walking backward!

Styles: The comedy stylings of Scotty Notfunny, everybody.

[The lights come back on in a few seconds. In the middle of the ring, Dr. Thrilla is laid out.]

SW: Oh, man, he's covered in blood. Oh wait, that's normal for him. Never mind.

NH: Look! douja just crawled out from under the ring. What a smart move.

[douja blows out a whole lot of smoke.]

douja: yo, dogg, where da twinkies at?

SW: Oh, he was just sneaking in a doobie break.

Styles: Who is attacking, uh, douja? Well, this time, douja wasn't attacked, but...who's TRYING to attack douja? Urine with a corkscrew leg drop! Cover! One! Two! Three! Urine and Pigeon get the win.

[Cut to the parking lot, where a Sears van is speeding away.]

SW: douja and Dr. Thrilla sure aren't seeing the softer side of Sears.

["Domo Origato Mr. Roboto" plays next. Here comes Atomo The Living Robot down the aisle.]

Styles: Fans, we are about to be joined at our Extend-o-Desk by Atomo, because up next is a seven-person battle royal to determine once and for all who the number one contender is for his Pop-Up Ads Crashed My Computer Title.

MV: The following match is a Rhubarb Rumble!

SW: A what? Did Coma get to name this match?

NH: His was the best submission. It's a battle royal, just with a more 'fun' name.

Styles: Welcome, Atomo.

Atomo: THANK-YOU-UNIT: STYLES. IT'S-GREAT-TO-BE-HERE. HEIDI-I-KNOW-YOU-ARE-SINGLE. HAVE-YOU-EVER-CONSIDERED-A-SEX-ROBOT?

NH: No, why?

Atomo: OH-YOU-KNOW-WHAT-THEY-SAY. ONCE-YOU-GO-GRAY-YOU-NEVER-GO-BACK!

MV: Now coming to the ring...XXXtreme Machine...Nic Flare...Queen Mylisiv....Igpay Atinolay Eathay....The Bride....Rob Van Spam...and Alan Qaida!

Styles: Do you have a preference for who you'd like to face at Grudge Match A-Go-Go, Atomo?

Atomo: IT-DOESN'T-REALLY-MATTER-BECAUSE-ANY-ONE-OF-THESE-SEVEN-PEOPLE-WILL-GET-A-METAL-BOOT-IN-THEIR-ASS.

Styles: And here we go. Bride grabs XXXtreme Machine by the hair and he's over the top rope to the floor!

SW: There's been a lot of talk about the biggest jobber of them all. But Snapmare Kid and Urine got NOTHING on XXXtreme Machine.

NH: Who do you think will win, Atomo?

Atomo: FROM-A-LOGICAL-STANDPOINT-IT-WOULD-MAKE-SENSE-FOR-EITHER-UNIT: ALAN QAIDA-OR-UNIT: ROB-VAN-SPAM-TO-WIN-BUT-THIS-IS-BOB-WE-ARE-TALKING-ABOUT.

Styles: Flare has Igpay in the corner. Chop.

NF: Woooo!

Styles: Alan Qaida and Rob Van Spam are double teaming Queen Mylisiv.

SW: Zeno isn't going to be happy about them double-teaming her.

NH: Wow. I'm surprised you'd even mention Sir Zeno.

SW: New contract. I'm untouchable.

NH: Even if I want to...*ahem* touch you?

SW: Oh baby! Of course not. If you ever want to touch me—

THUNK

SW: Hey!

NH: Sucker!

Styles: Qaida has a chair! He holds in front of Queen Mylisiv. Van Spaminator connects! And Queen Mylisiv goes over the top rope to the floor.

Atomo: TOO-BAD-I-WOULD-NOT-HAVE-MINDED-ROLLING-AROUND-ON-THE-MAT-WITH-HER-FOR-A-FEW-MINUTES. HUBBA-HUBBA.

SW: You really got a way with monotones, Atomo.

NH: Atomo, do you think anybody will ever beat you for that title?

Atomo: I-HAVE-HELD-THE-TITLE-THIS-LONG. I-AM-AIMING-TO-BREAK-THE-FABULOUS-MOOLAH'S-RECORD-OF-HOLDING-A-TITLE-FOR-TWENTY-SEVEN-YEARS-FIVE-10-MONTHS-AND-FIVE-DAYS.

SW: Shit! You don't think BOB will be open THAT long, do you?

Atomo: IT-IS-QUITE-POSSIBLE. ESPECIALLY-IF-THE-DEVIL-NEEDS-TO-TORTURE-PEOPLE-IN-HELL-AFTER-THE-APOCALYPSE-COMES.

SW: God damnit!

Atomo: AND-IF-YOU-KEEP-TALKING-LIKE-THAT-YOU-WILL-EASILY-STILL-BE-THE-COLOR-COMMENTATOR.

SW: Fuck!

Styles: Bride ducks under a double leg lariat by Qaida and RVS. Bride with a superkick to Qaida! Russian leg sweep on RVS!

NH: Igpay whips Flare into the corner. Flare tries to flip over, but ohhh no! He just slid down the turnbuckles and landed on his head.

Styles: And Flare isn't moving. He could've broken his neck!

SW: We can hope. Say, why is Generic Ref doing that X-thing with his arms?

Styles: Scotty!

SW: What? Is he trying to all gangster?

NH: Igpay is just staring at Flare.

SW: He's looking a little twitchy.

Styles: No, Igpay, no!

SW: The hell?

Styles: Igpay is dragging an unmoving Nic Flare out of the ring. He puts him on the floor and...good GOD! He just shoved him under the ring.

SW: Igpay just ran out into the crowd! He just hid the body and is running away!

NH: Man, Igpay will never be allowed back in England after this one.

Styles: But he isn't dead!

NH: He might be by the time we get some medical help out here.

Styles: Well...we're down to Alan Qaida, RVS and The Bride. Though Igpay, technically, wasn't eliminated.

Atomo: HE-COULD-NOT-DEFEAT-ME-ANYWAY-STYLES.

Styles: How far along are you in your quest for 27 years?

Atomo: I-AM-AT-ONE-YEAR-AND-10-MONTHS. WHEN-I-SUCCESFULLY-DEFEND-AT-GRUDGE-MATCH-A-GO-GO-I-WILL-CELEBRATE-A-TWO-YEAR-REIGN. I-AM-TALKING-SHOTS-OF-VALVOLINE-AND-CASTROL-UNTIL-I-OVERFLOW-BABY.

SW: You're just too wild for me, Atomo.

Styles: The Bride-Mission is locked in! The KATANA-HAJIME IS LOCKED IN! OH MY GOD! But here comes RVS. OH MY GOD! Rob Van Spam was just backdropped over the top rope while she had the Bride-mission locked on Alan Qaida!

SW: Too bad. That would've been a match made in heaven if RVS could win the Pop-Up belt.

Atomo: WARNING-UNIT: HEIDI. YOUR-SCRIPT-MAY-BE-INFECTED-WITH-HARMFUL-SPYWARE-PROGRAMS. IMMEDIATE-REMOVAL-MAY-BE-REQUIRED. TO-SCAN-YOUR-COMPUTER-TOUCH-ME-HERE.

SW: BWAHAHAHA!

NH: Stop feeding him lines.

SW: I was just curious if you'd be blonde enough to punch Atomo.

Atomo: BUT-SERIOUSLY-HEIDI-COULD-YOU-CHECK-MY-DIPSTICK?

SW: BWAHAHAHA!

Styles: Alan Qaida is fading. Bride pulls him back up. What is she thinking? Oh NO! BRIDE-MISSION SUPLEX OVER THE TOP ROPE ONTO ROB VAN SPAM on the FLOOR! BRIDE WINS! And Atomo, you're going to be facing off with The Bride.

Atomo: AS-THE-BRITISH-SAY-BUGGER.

["Money" by Pink Floyd begins playing.]

Styles: What the? This isn't on my format!

SW: We HAVE a format? Since when?

NH: Who is Sarah, Styles?

Styles: I haven't seen her yet tonight, but she was completely heartbroken last week after having Kay Fabe and her own sister turn on her to join up with Trey Vincent and Death! These people make me sick!

SW: Careful, Styles. I can make you history like Monroe if you keep talking bad about the Skull & Bones Society.

Styles: The what?

SW: The biggest heel group in sports entertainment today. Of which, I am a proud card-carrying member. See?

NH: Eww. I never thought a picture could make you any more hideous.

SW: Hey!

[Once The Bride, RVS and Alan Qaida have gotten out of the aisle, Trey Vincent leads out the Skull & Bones Society. And yes, I too am a proud member.]

Styles: Say, Detached Narrator?

[Yes?]

Styles: What's the deal with SMC 24 being in the Floora Floora Arena in Walla Walla Washington, but in Fahrenheit 8:16 last week, Trey and everybody was in the Oops Bowl in Embarrass, Minnesota during the preparation for that event?

[...Oops? I am SO embarrassed!]

SW: What a roster of talent! There is the brains, Trey Vincent. Behind him, the next ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, Death! There is Seth Harker and Kay Fabe. Add in Detached Narrator and me, well, there is just no stopping us from ruling BOB.

Styles: Impressive, sure. Unstoppable, hardly. Annoying? Definitely.

SW: Look at their cool T-shirts! It's got a skull and bones on it!

Styles: I'd like to know where BigBOSS stands on this new group.

[Cut to BigBOSS.]

BigB: I'll allow it.

[Back to the ring. The crowd is booing.]

TV: May Trey Vincent have your attention please. People of England and people watching this back at home in America, what you are looking at here is the Skull & Bones Society. The brainchild of Trey Vincent and Death. Last week, we showed the small percentage of the world that watches us who is running things in BOB. And it is us. Death has got the money. Trey Vincent, the Vice President In Charge of Everything has got the power. Seth, the best fucking cruiserweight in the world. Kay Fabe, the sexiest redhead on the planet. We are the new power in BOB. And we will take and take and take and take until we have it all. And Studs, when he gets back, I'm sure he'll be down with the Skull & Bones Society.

[Trey hands the mic to Death. The crowd goes silent.]

Death: Sarah "The Jobber Slayer." Last week, you think you reached the lowest point in your worthless life. But that will not really come until December at Grudge Match A-Go-Go. That is the night where I will take the only thing left that you care about. The ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. Trey stole your sister. Seth stole your best friend. Kay stole a bunch of your CDs and your favorite sweater. And, Sarah, when we meet at Grudge Match-A-Go-Go, I am going to steal the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.

[Death hands the mic to Kay. The crowd resumes booing.]

KF: Oh, that's right, I'm evil. What, you're shocked? Sarah. If you want your Kanye West, Green Day and Black Eyed Peas CDs back, you're gonna have to pry them out of my cold, dead hands. Let me tell you something about Kay Fabe. Kay Fabe is a winner. I belong in the Skull & Bones Society. Now, I'm not stuck being a sidekick to Sarah's ego. Do you think I could EVER get a shot at her title if I was a white hat? Please! This is the only way I could figure to get that shot. Not that, I'm not 100 percent behind Death. Because, so am, big guy. But, uh, now, Kay Fabe is a junkie. The only thing going for me are the moments when Seth looks at me and I am wonderful. I never got those looks from Sarah. Which is why I turned on her. Questions? Comments?

[The loud sound of a dustbuster vrooming? Oh CRAP! No! No! Not...]

Styles: OH MY GOD IT'S DUSTBUSTER BOY!

SW: What? I thought he quit!

NH: Whoa. Dusty is all dressed up tonight. Hold on. Isn't Dustbuster Boy YOUR cousin?

SW: Will you stop telling people we're related! I got such heat after he quit on us to go play pro fantasy football.

[Dustbuster Boy grabs the mic away from Kay Fabe.]

TV: What are you doing here?

Dustbuster Boy: Oh, script writer, make that Dustbuster Boy, Esq.

[Fine.]

Dustbuster Boy, Esq.: Ahh, much better. Anyway. To make a long story short, I'm a lawyer now.

TV: You are a lawyer?

DBE: Yes.

TV: You?

DBE: Yes.

TV: YOU?

DBE: I sure am. Why are you playing dumb? Didn't that documentary play last week?

TV: Possibly. The filmmakers were still editing it this morning.

DBE: Oh. Well...then, basically, I did my coursework through the mail and passed a bar in Minnesota, making it all official.

TV: Minnesota? I thought we were in Walla Walla, Washington?

[Uh, yeah, Trey. About that...]

TV: Shit! We must stop drinking so heavily....*Snort*

[Ohhohohoho! You had me there for a second!]

DBE: *Ahem* So anyway. On behalf of my client this morning. I believe you all know her as Sarah "The Jobber Slayer."

[The crowd cheers.]

DBE: This morning, there will be a match between Sarah and Death for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS, HERE IN WRESSLE!

[Nice crowd pop.]

Beer Man: LAGER HERE!

[Even BIGGER pop. "Temptation Waits" by Garbage hits, and out walks Sarah, who looks, well, just beautiful this evening. She's in a pair of pink leather pants and a tight black sleeveless T-shirt. She's smiling. That's what it is. Wow, she has teeth, I'll be damned. She usually so frickin' depressed with the weight of the world on her shoulders all the time. Doesn't that get so old? But I digress, since Sarah is now in the ring.]

DBE: So, here's the way it's gonna go down. This match will only happen one way. The title will be on the line. But...if anybody from your Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Wrestlers, interferes, Death loses his shot for the rest of his time in BOB. Along with every other member of the Skull & Bones Society and iAd!

[The crowd cheers.]

Styles: Trey is pissed! I think we're about to have a fight here. Wait a second! From out of nowhere, the Distorted Icons are in the ring!

SW: They just came from the back, Styles. Didn't you see them run out?

Styles: The Suck Ups are back together! Oh, what a 25th edition of Chloroform! The odds have just evened up and the Skull & Bones Society looks like they're gonna take a pass at a fight right here.

NH: Sarah looks like she's in a good mood tonight. I can't believe that she's going to put the belt up this morning though.

Styles: Sarah wants some big time revenge.

[We cut backstage to The Commentator.]

TC: Hello folks. TC here, and I'd like to bring in Misty Waters to camera view. Now, Misty, tonight, you've got a shot to become the number one contender for the Swiss Army Belt, when you face Kay Fabe.

MW: That's right, TC. Kay. I can't believe you were just out in the ring and didn't even mention our match! How dare you! Just for that, I'm gonna kick your bisexual ass just a little harder than usual. That's right, even harder than SETH hits it. Bitch!

[Misty storms off camera.]

TC: Uh...back to you guys?

[Back in the ring, Seth Harker is now all alone. He is holding a piece of paper in his hands. The word "CONTRACT" can be seen.]

SH: Alright people, settle down. It's time, once again, for the Seth Harker Open. Every week on this program, I offer a lowly, unemployed sports entertainer the shot of a lifetime. A BOB contract. All that person has to do is pin me in less than three minutes. Last week, I took care of WWE reject Billy Kidman. So who is it going to be this morning?

["Silent Night" by Frank Sinatra hits. Yeah, baby! Some Rat Pack for all you cool cats. Out steps a man wearing an orange BOB logo T-shirt and black workout pants. He has short brown hair, a goatee, and his fists are heavily taped. He looks around at the crowd, which gives him pretty much an indifferent reaction.]

Styles: That's Ronnie Nightmare! The man known as "The Innovator of Silence"! Ronnie Nightmare is in BOB! Oh my god.

SW: Who is he? Some independent loser?

Styles: Well...yes.

SW: Poor bastard. I hope he loses to Seth. There is only one fate worse than the indy circuit. And it's here in BOB.

MV: And his opponent, from Bonkers, New York, "The Innovator of Silence" Ronnie Nightmare!

Seth: "Innovator of Silence," huh? How'd you get that name.

RN: *Glares at Seth*

Seth: So, you seriously think you have a chance at defeating me in under three minutes, Ronnie?

RN: *Scowl*

Seth: Do you know what this is? (He holds up a spoon.)

RN: *Dirty look*

Seth: I know kung fu.

Styles: Seth jams the spoon into Nightmare's throat! And the crowd doesn't like that cheap shot one bit.

SW: That's what he gets for having such a stupid gimmick. Spoon the bafoon, Seth!

GR: Give me the spoon, Harker.

Seth: There is no spoon.

GR: There is no spoon?

Seth: Right.

GR: Okey-dokey.

Styles: Spinning heel kick by Harker connects.

SW: Wow, look at the gut on Nightmare. That is the scariest thing about this loser.

NH: Harker is looking to fly.

Styles: SSSSpppprrrriiiinnnnggggbbbbooooaaaarrrrdddd mmmmoooooooonnnnssssaaaauuuulllllttttt cccconnneeeccccttttssss.... OOOOHHHH MMMMYYYY GGGGOOOODDDD. HHHHeeeeyyyy wwwwhhhheeeennnn iiiissss tttthhhheeee ssssppppeeeeeeeedddd ggggooooiiiinnnnggggg ttttoooo rrrreeeeettttuuuurrrrrnnnnn ttttoooo nnnnnoooorrrrrmmmmmaaaaallll????

[The camera spins around quickly to a closeup of Harker, staring blankly into the camera. The camera returns to normal speed.]

Styles: COVER! Ah, that's much better. Two! No! Nightmare kicks out.

NH: I think Harker is looking to end this match right now.

SW: His back must be hurting from carrying this jobber to the match of his career.

NH: Good thing you're not in there, or he'd already have a hernia.

Styles: Harker is up top. But Nightmare is up! He climbs to the top rope.

RN: *Silent scream*

Styles: OH MY GOD! TOP ROPE DDT CONNECTS! Nightmare with the cover! One! Two! Thre-NO! Harker somehow got the shoulder up!

SW: Hey! Nightmare's got a weapon!

NH: That's the spoon Harker used on him. He who lives by the spoon, dies by the spoon.

Seth: Hey Ref, look! A spoon!

Styles: Nightmare just hit Harker with the spoon! WHAT? Generic Ref is calling for the bell we don't have. Don't tell me...

MV: The winner of this match, as a result of a disqualification, Seth Harker!

NH: The dreaded international object of doom...the spoon, does in Nightmare's chances of getting a job here.

[Sounds of stuff breaking fill the Drunkendub Hall, followed by a deafening pop. Harker knows what it means, so he quickly rolls out of the ring and escapes through the crowd. Nightmare, however, is still arguing with Generic Ref. Luke Warm hobble-runs down the aisle and slides under the bottom rope.]

Styles: STONECUTTER ON NIGHTMARE!

[Big pop!]

Styles: STONECUTTER ON GENERIC REF!

[Another big pop!]

Styles: It's the thirstiest S.O.B. in BOB history, Luke Warm! And he's looking for a microphone. Michelle throws hers into the ring to avoid getting a STONECUTTER.

SW: Get out of there Michelle. He's a redneck. Attacking women is second nature to him!

LW: I am back in BOB to drink Yoohoo with the people here in Wressle, England!

[He gives two thumbs up and gets yet another pop.]

LW: But now I've got The Domino gunning for me. Domino, watchagonnado Domino, when LUKAMANIA lays the LUKEDOWN because LUKE WARM said so? And that's the lower latitude!

["Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck" hits, bringing out the Snapmare Kid. But, smartly, he waits on the floor.]

SMK: Look, Luke, I'm sorry you have leukemia, but there are bigger problems tonight. You see, there isn't enough time for both your feud AND my feud to get TV time. So the powers that be have combined our time tonight.

LW: You sorry, S.O.B., you forgot to bring a microphone with ya! Nobody in Wressle—

[Pop!]

LW: Can hear a damn word your saying!

[But before we can address that problem, "Golden Showers" by the Mentors hits. And here comes Urine to a decent pop. He does have a microphone.]

Urine: Let me tell you something, chaps! (He waits for a pop, but doesn't get much of anything.) Can you feel the warmth this morning, sisters? The power of Urine and the Urination is overflowing here in Wressle, amigos.

SMK: (Yelling) Could I borrow your microphone, Urine? Or a megaphone if one is handy? Maybe a posterboard and a marker?

Urine: No way, cousin! Now let me ask you a question, padre! What are you gonna do, nephew? What are you gonna do, daddy, when Urine and the Urination PEES all over YOU?

[The Domino runs out from behind Urine and bashes him in the head with a tin full of dominoes. Urine crumples in a heap and the crowd boos loudly. Domino picks up the microphone.]

The Domino: The Domino says you, Urine, SUCK. And The Domino says, you, Snapmare Kid, SUCK. And The Domino says, Luke Warm, you can take both of these grade-Z jabroneys, turn them sideways, and put them in a wood chipper for all The Domino cares. But you, Luke Warm. At Grudge Match A-Go-Go will go ONE, on ONE, with The Domino. And I will leave you stone cold...

[The Domino gives Luke a double thumbs up.]

Styles: Luke is PISSED! That's his signature move! Luke Warm charges down the aisle. OH, he clotheslines SMK to the floor.

NH: Too bad Luke runs so slowly, otherwise he might have had a chance of catching The Domino.

SW: Well, Luke put his focus on his movie career. And see what happened?

NH: He's an actor?

SW: No. But he's a star at renting them!


Get Your Fix!

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Get YOUR fix every Sunday! Exclusively on Comedy Central.


NH: Well, it's time to get hardcore!

SW: Oh baby! (Singing) Let the panties hit the floor! Let the panties hit the floor! Let the panties hit the FLOOOR!

MV: The following contest is for the You Gotta Be Kidding I Ain't Doing That, Are You Out Of Your Frickin' Mind? Hardcore Title!

SW: Aww, what a jip!

["Mexican Stuff" by Hootie and the Wetbacks plays.]

MV: Introducing first, the challenger. From Suicida, Mexico, this is Insano Mano!

Styles: Mano won a gauntlet match last week to earn this shot at Mr. Paradox here this morning.

SW: C'mon, Styles. He doesn't have a shot. You know what everybody calls Mano backstage?

NH: Retarded?

SW: Well, yeah. But also, they call him Kamikazie Ken's personal bitch! He's lost more times to Kamikazie Ken than anybody.

Styles: But they've had some of the most talked about encounters in the history of BOB.

SW: But he lost them all. He has no chance of beating Kamikazie Ken. We might as well just fast forward through this match.

NH: You're just trying to leave early, aren't you?

SW: What, me?

["Are We Ourselves" hits. And here comes the champion.]

MV: And his opponent, from Dimension Z, by way of Hot Springs, South Dakota, the You Gotta Be Kidding I Ain't Doing This, Are You Out Of Your Frickin' Mind? Hardcore Champion, this is Mr. Paradox!

Styles: Both brawlers are reading to take it to the extreme.

SW: This won't be no kid speedo wrestling match.

Styles: Huh?

SW: Or rug munchers wrestling in the snow. That would be hardcore.

NH: The weird gets weirder.

Styles: And here we go. Paradox with a stiff punch. Another one. And a third. He whips Mano into the ropes and connects with a barefooted dropkick to the face.

SW: That was like a shovel handle dog kid between the legs!

NH: Oh, I get it. These must be some of those weird 'disturbing search' hits BigBOSS likes to sprinkle into the script.

SW: I wouldn't bet on that, Heidi. But I would bet on a Superbowl cointoss. Hey, wanna go back to my place and watch some illegal Japanese street racing videos?

Styles: Wait a second! Here comes Kamikazie Ken.

SW: I told you so, Styles. Mano is going to need a Kiwi intergalactic tree-o massage after this one.

NH: I thought their feud was over.

Styles: Ken has a chair! He's waiting on Mano to get up. He swings!

SMACK

Styles: Ken just hit Mr. Paradox! OH MY GOD! Mano is staring at Kamikazie Ken in disbelief! Ken picks up Paradox on his shoulders.

NH: Hey, that's not Ken.

Styles: It's not Ken indeed! Mr. Paradox just got hit with a Death Valley (Of The Sun) Driver! There's only one man who can throw a move like that!

SW: Johhy Cockran?

Styles: Steve Studnuts! Mano with the pin! ONE! TWO! THREE! HEGOTHIM! Oh my GOD we have a new You Gotta Be Kidding I Ain't Doing That, Are You Out Of Your Frickin' Mind Champion! Insano MANO?

[We head backstage, where The Commentator is in a hallway with the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, Sarah "The Jobber Slayer."]

StJS: Hello, The Commentator.

TC: Hello Sarah.

StJS: How is your barbecue sauce?

TC: Uh...it's good, thanks.

[Sarah smiles.]

TC: Well, Sarah. You asked for this match tonight against Death. I think everyone is wondering why you made this challenge.

StJS: I'm Sarah. And Death is evil. It is my sworn duty to destroy the evil jobbers of the world. I know I probably don't have a prayer in the world, since I'm going up against the genius mind of Trey Vincent, but, maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll get to lick chocolate off of Kay Fabe's milky white thighs after the match!

TC: Say WHAT?

StJS: I'm going to win this one for Styles. Every Slayer needs her Commentator. No offense, The Commentator.

TC: To what?

StJS: It's time to Slay. Jobbers of the world, beware!

TC: By gawd! That match last week must've given her brain damage. She's crazier than a pet mongoose!

[Back to ringside.]

SW: Wow, sounds like Sarah's been riding the Brain Damager at Poinkyworld.

[Cut to Coma.]

Coma: The happiest gizzard in the shizzle. *Falls over*

[Back to the ring. Again. "Queer" by Garbage is playing.]

MV: The following contest is to determine the number one contender for the Swiss Army Belt at Grudge Match A-Go-Go. Introducing first, Kay Fabe!

Styles: Sarah seemed fine earlier. I don't know why she's been acting so strange this morning.

SW: She shouldn't be in the ring this morning. She should just be doing a strip tease. In my hotel room. Recovering from her sexy wounds.

["Fuck And Run" by Liz Phair plays next, getting a huge reaction from the crowd.]

NH: Wow. Misty has quite a softcore porn/wrestling crossover fan base.

SW: I'm sure she won the hearts of everyone here when she starred in "Misty And The Hershey Highway." I'll never forget the look on her face when she got the golden thong in her birth control packet.

NH: That sounds like a truly twisted movie.

Styles: Kay Fabe, that she-witch. She's gonna pay one of these days for what she did to Sarah.

SW: I hope it's on pay-per-view. I'm sure it'll be lots of scratching and clawing and clothes ripping.

Styles: Here we go. The girls lockup. Kay Fabe powering Misty back into the corner. Slap! Slap! Slap! She licks the palm of her hand.

SW: BITCH SLAP~! Oh baby! Slap that bitch!

Styles: Kay whips Misty into the ropes. Clothesline! But Misty is right back up!

SW: Hey! No, no-selling Kay's moves!

Styles: Kick to the midsection! She lifts her up! It looks like Misty is about to tombstone Kay Fabe!

SW: Well...this makes up for the no-sell. But JUST barely!

Styles: Kay Fabe's neck may have been broken! COVER! One! Two! NO! HEY! Seth Harker just jerked Misty off!

SW: *Snort*

Styles: Harker may have just cost Misty the victory. It's LITTLE GOOD!

[Monster pop!]

Styles: OH MY GOD! Little Good just blindsided Harker with an ax handle! And now Little Good slides into the ring.

LG: Sorry, love. It's for the best.

SW: What is he doing?

Styles: He just punched Misty!

MW: Hey!

Styles: Misty punches him back.

LG: Hey!

Styles: Little Good punches Misty.

LG: I just bloody helped you!

MW: Oh, well, let me help you then. *Punch*

MV: The winner of the match, as a result of a disqualification, Misty Waters.

MW: Ohhhh! I get it now. Thanks.

LG: Congrats. You're the number one contender now. You owe me, love.

Styles: Seth slides in and steals the ax handle from Little Good. He swings, but Little Good with a leg sweep. Both men rolling around, punching at each other. And they roll out to the floor.

NH: These two are really going at it.

SW: Well, Little Good stole Seth's trenchcoat look.

Styles: Right. Please. They're brawling through the fans.

[Backstage, Kamikazie Ken is playing a green portable electronic football game.]

IM: ¡Kamikazie Ken, mi enemigo de largo plazo! Muchas gracias por ayudarme a ganar usted consiguió embromarme que I no está haciendo eso, es usted fuera correa del título de Hardcore de la mente de su Frickin '. Sé tenemos un largo, storied historia, pero espero que esto sea un momento crucial. ¡Infierno, podríamos igualar quizá a equipo encima de uno de actualmente!

KK: You know that wasn't me out there, right?

[Ken shakes his head and walks away. Mano turns around and heads the opposite way. He is suddenly stopped when a large hand pops out from around the corner and grabs him by the hair. Wig Show steps out and drives Mano into a wheelbarrow filled with disposable razors!

Styles: OH MY GOD!

SW: Holy Schick!

NH: He just hit a, uh, what do you call that? A hairslam? It was like a chokeslam but down to his hair.

Styles: He calls it the Showscalper!

WS: Hey, Narrator, could you pop Generic Ref back here for a minute?

[Sure. Here he is.]

Styles: COVER! ONE! TWO! THREE! ITGOTHIM!

SW: It?

NH: The hell? Wig Show just put the title belt on top of Insano Mano? Why didn't HE make the pin?

Styles: I don't know. But there is a more vacant than usual look in Wig Show's eyes. Maybe he's under the thrall of the belt?

SW: Oh, you've GOT to be kidding me! The hardcore title is making Wig Show do its bidding? Oh, brother.

Styles: There have been documented cases of—

[Back to ringside.]

Styles: Hold on a second...Little Good and Seth Harker are now fighting up on the stage at the front of the ballroom.

[The camera goes all Wachoski as Little Good throws a punch, but it misses.]

Styles: Harker with a back kick to Little Good's midsection. Oh NO! He's got him hooked for...

[The camera goes all Wachoski again. Harker dives forward with Little Good and delivers a Tiger Driver '91 in slow-motion. The camera stays that way for several seconds as Harker lands on the, uh...floor. Which, sadly, is just a black piece of sheet laying on top of those packing peanut things, which all go flying in slow-motion up in the air to ruin this cool spot. *Sigh* The sheet ALSO flips up and reveals several pillows on the floor. And, we're back. Will you pan up! There you go.]

Styles: Oh my GOD! He just drove him from the stage to the floor! That could have ended the man's CAREER!

NH: Scotty, we should go check on them.

SW: Why?

NH: It looks serious.

SW: Nah, I'm good here.

NH: Come with me!

SW: But...ohh!

Styles: Well, Nurse Heidi and Scotty Whatbody are going to check on the condition of Seth Harker and Little Good. Let's take a look at the replay of that piledriver.

[The camera goes all Wachoski again. Harker dives forward with Little Good and delivers a Tiger Driver '91 in slow-motion. The camera stays that way for several seconds as Harker lands on the, uh...floor. Which, sadly, is just a black piece of sheet laying on top of those packing peanut things, which all go flying in slow-motion up in the air to ruin this cool spot. *Sigh* The sheet ALSO flips up and reveals several pillows on the floor. And, we're back. Will you pan up! There you go.]

Styles: That was a solid four-foot drop to the concrete, fans. That should effectively end Little Good's career. I'm getting word that BigBOSS is waiting for Heidi to declare a state of emergency before sending any help down to Little Good. He wants to make sure he's really injured before sending any help. He wants to make sure he's good and injured. I don't agree with this at all! What's wrong with BigBOSS? Seth Harker and Little Good aren't moving after that suicidal move. Kay is running to check on Seth.

Styles: Fans, I'm getting word that Comedy Central has already set-up a special Celebrity Roast of Craig T. Nelson to benefit the victims of Tiger Driver '91. That should be on the air tonight at 8 p.m. And all the funds will be sent to the victims whose lives have been forever changed by Tiger Driver '91. This is such a terrible scene. And still, there is no help on the way. We understand the BOB phonelines are lighting up with people pledging their donations. And fans, if you too would like to donate, anything will help, send those checks or credit card numbers to BigBOBB, Bunker Box 12, North Pole, Alaska.

Styles: Fans, it really amazes me that Comedy Central has already managed to organize an entire Celebrity Roast of Craig T. Nelson, but BigBOSS still hasn't sent any medical personnel to help the victims of Tiger Driver '91 evacuate from the floor of the Drunkendub Hall in Wressle, Humberside, Great Britain.

Styles: According to BOB instant polls, viewers are giving BigBOSS poor marks for his handling of Tiger Driver '91. 67 percent of people say BigBOSS should be speeding up relief efforts to Harker and Little Good, with 28 percent saying he's doing everything possible to help them. We also understand that BigBOSSes approval rating has slipped to 7 percent, dropping a full point from recent polls.

Styles: We understand Heidi has just declared a state of emergency. I am joined now at the broadcast position by Misty Waters. And Misty, what do you think of the response by BigBOSS to this federation emergency?

MW: I think it's incredibly sad. But I think it must be said. If Little Good wasn't so poor and so English, I believe the response would have been much quicker.

Styles: Very controversial thoughts there, Misty. I understand that the scheduled match for the Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Team Titles has been postponed due to this tragedy. But the match will be made up at a later date. Well fans, we've got to take a break, but we'll be back with more coverage of Tiger Driver '91, right here on Sunday Morning Chloroform.


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Styles: We are back and—

Michelle: The following contest is the main event, and is for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS!

["Killed By Death" plays.]

Michelle: introducing first. From the Netherworld, this is the Million Dollar Entity, DEATH!

Styles: We understand both Seth Harker and Little Good have been rushed to the closest hospital.

SW: Life goes on, Styles. I know he's your friend, but he shouldn't have messed with the Skull & Bones.

Styles: What about Harker?

SW: Oh, he'll be fine. Your boy, as good as dead.

Michelle: And, the reigning, and defending champion. She once took one of my jackets without asking, and then spilled banana all over it! What a weirdo. Is it any wonder I picked Trey over her? *Pssh* Here's Sarah "The Sisterless Slayer."

NH: This is the second big title defense Sarah's had in just two or three weeks.

Styles: Sarah goes right on the offensive. She connects with a back kick. And there's a flying ax kick to the back of Death's skull.

NH: That would've rattled his brains. If he had any.

SW: Are you calling Death stupid? Wait until I tell him.

Styles: But Death is back up quick. Sarah tries for a kick, but Death catches it. Enzugeri! Now...OH MY GOD! Sarah connects with a spinning inferno kick! What a move!

SW: Damn. That would be so hot if she did that naked.

Styles: I've...never seen her use that move before. But I taught her everything she knows.

SW: Except that, dumbass.

Styles: Umm...right. Sarah whips Death into the corner. Sarah backs up. Sarah with...a CORNER BACK FLIP KICK! Oh my GOD! Sarah is off the charts tonight!

NH: Death is down on one knee.

Styles: ROLLING KOPPOU KICK!

SW: Oh, COME ON! You're just making up these names now!

[The crowd gives Sarah a standing ovation.]

StJS: Thank you!

Styles: I swear, these are all kicks. Maybe if you spent some time watching the matches instead of the jiggling parts you'd learn something.

SW: Eh, if those are my choices, I'd rather be ignorant.

NH: No wonder your so blissful all the time.

Styles: COVER! One! Two! Th-NO! Death gets a shoulder up. I haven't seen Death in this much trouble...EVER.

NH: Did you forget about Jean Bannister?

[Death shoots a look at Heidi.]

Styles: SPINNING ROUNDHOUSE KICK!

SW: Wow, that saved your ass, Heidi.

NH: I forgot that no mentioning you-know-who.

SW: Who?

NH: Nice try.

SW: No really, who? I got distracted by your...uhh...what was I saying?

NH: Stop looking at my breasts.

Styles: Sarah tries for a Cloudydale Side Kick, but Death sidesteps it. That knee lift doesn't. Neither does that one. Or that one. Or that one. Death puts a boot into Sarah's throat.

SW: Wow, Sarah is totally no-selling that. She's just staring at Death.

Styles: She's...in the zone! Death pulls her out and lifts her up. Snake Eyes to the turnbuckle. Death pulls her up by the hair. Sidewalk slam. COVER! One! Two and a kickout.

SW: Looks like this is the end, beautiful friend, the end.

Styles: Death is calling for the Netherworld Powerbomb. He kicks Sarah. He's got her up. SARAHCONRANA! COVER! ONE! TWO! No. Death gets out.

NH: I guess Death had a wrong number there, huh Scotty.

Styles: Sarah looking to inflict some more damage on The Million Dollar Entity. But Death with a knee lift. He elbows Sarah in the back of the head. And now he tosses her out to the floor.

NH: Oh, crap, they're coming this way.

Styles: Sarah's face is driven into our announce desk.

NH: This morning's card is, as usual, sponsored by E-Z Break Tables. For all your non-hurty hardcore needs! Uh-oh!

Styles: Oh, NO! Here comes a Netherworld POWERBOMB!

SMASH

Styles: OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!

[The crowd erupts into a mixture of cheers and boos. Death looks around, soaking in the first non-silent reaction he received the entire match...or most of his career...or life, really. Death got down on one knee and pumped his fist.]

SW: Get her in the ring, Death!

NH: Man, did you see Sarah twitching...Hey, do you smell...smoke?

SW: No! I mean, no. Why? It's probably just the monitor. Are you pregnant? And hysterical? ARE YOU ON THE RAG? PMSING! That's it! You're STONED! Shut up!

NH: Zuh??

Styles: Death shoves Sarah in the ring. Death climbs back in. SARAH'S KIPS UP! TRIPLE KICK! Death falls! Sarah collapses! This BOB crowd is on their feet! What a main event!

SW: I wonder who Death will defend THE ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS against at Grudge Match A-Go-Go. Maybe he can face himself? He will still be the number one contender.

Styles: Sarah is crawling to her feet. She grabs Death by the hood. TOUCH OF DEATH! OH...

[Sarah stands there for a few seconds, expressionless.]

SW: She can't believe she's DEAD! Now GO DOWN!

Styles: Oh no.

[Sarah jumps backward and lands flat on her back.]

Styles: What the?

SW: COVER! COVER! COVER! ONE! TWO! THREE! YES! WE DID IT MOTHERFUCKERS! WOOOOOHOOOOOO!

NH: Something's not right in Wressle, Styles.

Michelle: The winner of the match. And, NEW BOB ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, Death!

[The fans begin chugging their beers rapidly and then tossing the empty cups toward the ring. Death grabs the belt with his right hand and holds it high in the air, raising one bony finger with the left hand. Trey Vincent, an apparently fully recovered Seth Harker and Kay Fabe walk down to the ring, smiling big and clapping.]

Styles: This is sick. I cannot believe Sarah lost the title.

SW: Yeah, and clean. How many champions can say they lost without a major screwjob involved? Not many, Styles. Not many at all. If I were your Slayer, I'd've fired you long ago.

NH: What's that noise?

SCRRRAPE!

Hop

THUMP!

[The end! ROLL CREDITS NOW!]

Styles: Don't you DARE! HEY! IT'S SARAH!

SW: © 2005 BOB WRESTLING! SHUT OFF THE CHANNEL OR YOU'LL BE STERILE!

NH: No, no. Wait. That's SARAH 'THE JOBBER SLAYER"! And she's bound and gagged and tied to that chair!

SW: You're all becoming sterile! And your penis is shrinking! Change the channel NOW!

Styles: What the HELL is going on here?

NH: I don't know. But the Skull & Bones Society is in shock.

SW: And there's nobody who can untie her because she has no friends and Little Good is dead!

Styles: Here comes...Little Good?!

[HUGE POP. The fuck? Can't any company run an injury angle that doesn't end with the person coming back healed by the main event?]

Styles: Great Britain's bastard son is coming to Sarah's rescue! Despite being a victim of Tiger Driver '91! And that pop is bigger than Luke Warm's!

Styles: Little Good frees Sarah from the chair. And Sarah looks PISSED!

[BigBOSS walks out.]

BigB: What the HECK is going on out here? TWO Sarah "The Jobber Slayer's"?

StJS: Isn't it obvious, BigBOSS?

BigB: Apparently not.

StJS: That's a robot!

BigB: A what?

StJS: That's Sarah_bot. Kay Fabe's sex bot.

BigB: Sex bot? You don't say. I may have to confiscate this as evidence...

LG: Bloody hell. You Skull & Bones wankers are in for a royal bleedin' beatdown.

Styles: The crowd erupts as Little Good and the REAL Sarah are charging toward the ring! AND HERE WE GO! Little Good clotheslines Kay and Seth! Sarah kicks Vincent in the nuts! OH MY GOD! TRIPLE KICK TO DEATH!

NH: Michelle is going after Sarah? Oh, she's not that dumb, is she?

Styles: Michelle grabs her sister by the hair. Sarah swings around. She's got Michelle by the throat! Oh, NO, Sarah, no!

Sarah_bot: Hey! You look like me. We're very pretty. But I think you should get your hands off my sister.

StJS: Alright, cybitch. Tonight, I'm gonna bathe in your blood. Er, oil.

[Sarah_bot punches Sarah so hard she goes flying into the corner turnbuckles and collapses.]

Styles: Oh no!

[BigBOSS is still standing near the entrance, and looking mighty confused.]

NH: Little Good feels Kay's Bottom.

SW: Seth ain't gonna like hearing that.

Styles: Little Good and Sarah tried to fight, but the odds are just against them. Little Good is being pummeled in one corner by Kay Fabe and Harker, and Sarah in the other by Death and Sarah_bot.

SW: As Trey's tongue sports entertains with Michelle's.

Styles: Sick. NOW WHAT? It's The SUCK-UPS! Dustbuster Boy, Esq., John Skeet and Steve Leary are charging down the aisle.

SW: No fair! They have weapons!

Styles: Skull & Bones gets out of there. Dustbuster Boy with his trademark Dustbuster, Skeeter with his fly swatter and Leary with his mic stand. The fans are cheering for the Suck-Ups.

SW: I'm disowning Dusty!

Styles: He's not your son, he's your cousin.

SW: I HAVE no cousin.

NH: Well, thankfully, Dustbuster Boy, Skeeter and Leary are here. But it looks like the Skull & Bones are contemplating another attack. Yep. Here they come.

SMACK

Styles: NO!

SW: BWAHAHAHA! YES! SWERVED YOU!! BWAHAHAHAHA.

Styles: NO! NOOO!

NH: Dustbuster Boy just smashed Little Good with his dustbuster.

SW: Yes! And now Little Good is bloody, BLOODY! HAHAHA!

Styles: Skeeter and Leary using their weapons on an already beaten down Sarah. Oh, come on! Skeeter smacking Sarah's ass with the fly swatter. This is just awful.

ZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP

[BIG POP!]

Styles: IT'S KURT ANGEL! OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!

[Big pop.]

SW: ACK!

Styles: What?

SW: You just popped a blood vessel.

Styles: Oh. Is that what that big pop was?

NH: Eww! Your eye is all red!

SW: What is THAT?

Styles: It looks like Angel has a dirty hypodermic needle. And the Skull & Bones Society and the Suck-Ups clear out of there in a hurry.

SW: Fuckshitfuckityfuckfuckfuck!

Styles: Fans, we're DESPERATELY out of time! Who is the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS? Kurt Angel is back! The Suck-Ups are with the Skull & Bones Society. For Nurse Heidi and Scot—

[Black.]

 

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