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Sunday Morning Chloroform 32

A dark screen. The sound of footsteps is heard as the TVM logo appears in the upper left hand corner of the screen. There is a buzzing noise and then there is light. We see a hand pulling away from a plug. Above the plug are the hand-written words: PLUG MY HOLE, BIG BOY!

Sunday Morning Chloroform Logo

The Thrillaing Conclusion!

[We are live on tape at the Santa Claus Arena in Christmas, Florida. The entire BOB roster is gathered in and around the ring, except for Atomo The Living Robot and the mysterious masked man who looks remarkably like Alan Qaida, both of whom are present via the "kidnap cam" being broadcast on the 2-Cheap-2-Own Tron.]

Styles

Styles: Hello everyone—

Seth Harker

Seth Harker: I'll take it from here, Styles. Seeing as how I'm the closest thing that Trey will ever have to a friend.

Michelle

Michelle Vincent: Hey!

SH: What? You're his WIFE. You can't be his friend. Now, please, Michelle, contain yourself.

Insano Mano

Insano Mano: ¡Contenga sus emociones, pero la sensación libre destraillar esos huevos revueltos que usted llama titties! ¡Soy oh tan córneo!

SH: Can we focus, everyone, please. Imagine a spoon...

MV: Shove the spoon up your ass.

SH: This morning, before the show can go on, we are going to figure out once and for all, Who Shot TV.

Coma

Coma: I was driving the flaming weasel! Poink!

Massive Man Rendition First

Massive Man Rendition First: Dude, you know it wasn't me. Because me and Jim weren't even here when he got shot.

SH: Yes you were. He got shot on SMC 31. That was your first show back.

MMR1: Oh, really? Damn, dude, I should start watching the shows again. Is Billy Polar still here? I've got a score to settle with him.

SH: No. Spoon.

Hallucination Boy

[Hallucination Boy grabs Seth from behind and pulls him down to the mat in a spooning position.]

HB: Roses are red, violets are pain, when I see your face, I see a TRAIN!

SH: Get off me!

[Seth shoves his way free of Hallucination Boy's grasp and gets back on his feet.]

SH: Kay, remind me to burn these clothes later.

Kay Fabe

Kay Fabe: Okey-dokey.

SH: As far as I am concerned, everybody in this ring and around the ring is a suspect. I am now going to figure out which one of you bastards gunned down the Vice President In Charge of Everything and put him in a coma.

Coma: I feel staticky. Raise the rutabaga. Neep?

SH: No, Coma, he's not in YOU. He's in A Coma.

Coma: Will the real Slim Coma please stand up and put one of these toes on each foot up?

SH: *Sigh* Alright. Let's start with you, Mysterious Masked Man who kidnapped Atomo The Living Robot!

[The man drops to his knees and points up at the sky.]

SH: Are you blaming this on GOD?

[The man nods.]

SH: Well, Trey WAS shot from up high. But I highly doubt God would need to use a sniper rifle.

Jim "Totally Packaged"

Jim "Totally Packaged": I don't know, dude. I once played a Flash game online where God WAS shooting people with a sniper rifle.

SH: Really?

Jim: Yeah. And penguin baseball! That one's the best.

SH: Hmm...perhaps video games are to blame. And perhaps it's a video gamer who could no longer tell the difference between fantasy and reality. Maybe, just maybe, that gamer is...you.

Jim: No way dude, I did NOT pull a Columbine. That is way harsh. I am in NO WAY influenced by video games. Oh crap, a cop!

[Jim pulls out a baseball bat and chases after him.]

Jim: Fuck you, po-po! Remember the name! Tommy Vercetti!

SH: ... OK. I never really suspected you anyway. So Jim is off the list. Alan Qaida is off the list. I guess I can finish off with Atomo next so we can save some electricity. Atomo, did you shoot Trey Vincent?

Atomo the Living Robot

Atomo: SETH-ATOMO-WOULD-HAVE-TO-HAVE-A-REALLY-LONG-GUN. (Atomo looks down.) AND-LADYBOTS...ATOMO-HAS-THE-BIGGEST-GUN-OF-THEM-ALL! ONCE-ATOMO-WALKED-INTO-A-WATCH-AND-CLOCK-STORE-UNZIPPED-ATOMO'S-PANTS-AND-PUT-ATOMO'S-HUGE-PIECE-ON-THE-COUNTER. THE-WOMAN-TOLD-ATOMO-TO-PUT-IT-AWAY. SHE-SAID-"THIS-IS-A-CLOCK-SHOP-NOT-A-COCK-SHOP!" ATOMO-TOLD-HER-"WELL-WHY-DON'T-YOU-PUT-TWO-HANDS-AND-A-FACE-ON-IT!

Death

Death: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, I am SO stealing that! That reminds me of one of my all-time favorite jokes. May I?

SH: You think I'm stupid enough to say no to you?

[Seth hands him the mic.]

Death: Alright. The priest in a small Irish village loved the cock and ten hens he kept in the hen house behind the church. But one Saturday night the cock went missing! The priest knew that cock fights happened in the village so he started to question his parishioners in church the next morning.

Death: During Mass, he asked the congregation, "Has anybody got a cock?"

Death: All the men stood up. "No, no," he said, "that wasn't what I meant. Has anybody seen a cock?"

Death: All the women stood up. "No, no," he said, "that wasn't what I meant. Has anybody seen a cock that doesn't belong to them?"

Death: Half the women stood up. "No, no," he said, "that wasn't what I meant. Has anybody seen MY cock?"

Death: All the nuns, three altar boys, two priests and a goat stood up.

[Silence.]

Death: Damn, I miss Trey. He used to laugh at my jokes. Here you go, Seth.

[Death hands Seth the mic.]

Atomo: BUT-NO-SETH-ATOMO-DID-NOT-SHOOT-TV. AS-YOU-MAY-HAVE-NOTICED-ATOMO-HAS-BEEN-KIDNAPPED. ATOMO-IS-BEING-HELD-CAPTIVE-SOMEWHERE-IN-MIDDLE-EASTERN-AMERICA. PROBABLY-IN-INDIANA-OR-ILLINOIS-OR-MISSOURI.

SH: OK. Thanks, Atomo. Don't get your head chopped off or anything.

[The television goes off. Seth walks up to Sarah.]

Sarah "The Jobber Slayer"

STJS: Sadly, I have an alibi for this one, Seth. Though to be honest, it's about time somebody gave him what he had coming to him.

[Michelle charges at Sarah.]

Styles: (High-pitched) CATFIGHT! CAAAAAATFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!

[Nobody breaks it up. All the guys, and Kay, just kind of watch. After about two minutes of them rolling around on the mat, pulling at each other's hair and ripping at each other's clothes, they collapse, breathless. Everyone is silent, just staring at them.]

NH: That's going to be all over YouTube tomorrow.

SH: *Ahem* Anyway. Who else do we have here. Misty Waters. Could you hate Trey enough to shoot him?

Misty Waters

Misty Waters: While he is a man, and we often fought, that doesn't mean I'd shoot him. Hell, we used to get drunk together before some shows and, uh...

[Michelle stands up.]

Styles: (High-pitched) CATFIGHT! CAAAAAATFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!

[Two minutes later.]

SH: *Ahem* OK. So, I guess we'll move right along. To Kurt Angel, fresh out of jail.

Kurt Angel

KA: Yeah? What about it, buster?

Crowd: MAR-I-JUANA *clap, clap, clapclapclap*! MAR-I-JUANA *clap, clap, clapclapclap*! MAR-I-JUANA *clap, clap, clapclapclap*!

SH: I don't know. Could it be YOU shot TV? Maybe to get some drug money?

KA: I wish! No, sadly, I have to scrape by on my BOB pay to get my stash. That, and the welfare checks. I swear, I couldn't get my fix if it weren't for this great country!

SH: So, you deny it?

KA: I'm a hero straight out of Heaven, buster! Why should we have this dumb inquisition anyway? So what? Trey got shot? I get shot all the time. Heck, I got shot this morning. (Kurt lifts up his shirt to reveal a bloody bandage around his stomach.) And look at me! Do you see me in the hospital? No! I'm right here, bucko!

SH: You probably should get that looked at.

KA: Why? It doesn't hurt.

SH: Yeah, but your stoned.

Crowd: YOU'RE STONED! YOU'RE STONED! YOU'RE STONED! YOU'RE STONED!

SH: I didn't think you shot him anyway. (Seth looks at Hallucination Boy and Coma.) I've already had enough of you two. My next suspect may not be a fat Samoan, but he sure if fat. Isn't that true, Wig Show?

Wig Show

Wig Show: I like my hams. Is that a crime?

SH: Ask your heart in a few years. So, Wig Show, I know that Trey Vincent caused you a headache on the last show when he wanted you to find a new gimmick. Could your new gimmick be, the Sharpshooter?

WS: No.

SH: Have you figured out your new gimmick yet?

WS: Maybe. Tell me what you think of this one.

[Wig Show picks up a San Francisco Giants baseball jersey and baseball cap and puts them on.]

SH: What are you? The M.O.P. Most Overweight Player?

WS: No!

SH: The Jolly Green Monster?

WS: NO!

SH: REALLY Big Papi?

WS: NO!

SH: The Fat Unit?

WS: NO! Damnit! I'm the San Francisco Giant!

SH: I thought you were from Florida?

WS: I can move.

SH: I don't think you want to move to San Francisco.

Patrick Fitzgerald

Patrick Fitzgerald: Sure the lad does, now. We can git this silly bahstahd dronk and 'ave our way wit' 'im!

Gerald Fitzpatrick

Gerald Fitzpatrick: Aye!

SH: Who are you two?

PF: Hawareya? Iyam Patrick Fitzgerald. He is Gerald Fitzpatrick. We are the Crazy Drunken Irish Fags!

GF: Aye!

[They both light up cigarettes.]

SH: You two are almost as annoying as Leary and Skeeter.

John "Skeeter" Skeet

John Skeet: Brill— hey!

SH: Well, since you guys weren't here when Trey got shot, I guess you guys didn't do it. But one person who WAS here was none other than, you! So what about you? What about Pigeon?

Pigeon

Pigeon: You think I want Trey dead?

SH: Yes.

Pigeon: Why?

SH: Is it not true that you want to, oh what's the word you used, "bang" Michelle Vincent?

Pigeon: I have something I would like to confess to Michelle.

Styles: Did Pigeon shoot Trey?

Pigeon: Even though the guys are crazy
Even though the stars are blind
If you show me real love baby
I'll show you mi-i-ine.
I can make it nice and naughty
Be the devil and angel too
Got a heart and soul and body
Let's see what this love can do
Maybe I'm perfect for you

Michelle: *Vomits*

Rob Van Spam

Rob Van Spam: Whoa, dude, you just vomited all over my boots. You know what you need? To please take our quick survey. Just click right here!

[RVS begins flashing a flashlight in her face.]

MV: Stop that.

SH: Rob Van, uh, Spew?

RVS: No, no, no. It's Rob. Van. Spam. Dude. Whatever. RVD 50 percent says I just saved you more on your phone bill!

SH: Did you shoot Trey Vincent.

RVS: No way, dude. But if you swat the fly you can win a free ringtone.

Little Good

[Little Good punches him in the balls.]

LG: Did I get it, mate?

RVS: Duuuuuude. *Falls over*

LG: Right in the willy.

SH: I know a certain Captain Peroxide who was more than a little pissed off about being assigned to be the backstage interviewer. Isn't it true that this assignment is worse than having that Dorito in your skull?

LG: Bollocks. Piss off you spoon sucking Nancy boy. And quit wearing trenchcoats. That's, whaddya call it, gimmick infringement. I could sue. You know who you really should be talking to? That wanker who always falls from the rafters. Kamikazie Ken. You ask me, he's the most logical suspect.

Kamikazie Ken

[Seth looks up and sees Ken staring down at the proceedings. Suddenly, probably through the magic of editing, Seth appears next to Ken.]

Kamikazie Ken: AHHH!

Off-screen Voice: Lookout!

[Ken loses his balance and begins falling.]

*BANG*

KK: Wow. That wasn't too bad.

[Ken sits up. Underneath are Skeeter and Leary, both rather, squished.]

KK: Whoops. Sorry guys.

JS: *Gurgle*

Steve Leary

SL: *Wheeze*

[Now Seth is back down in the ring.]

KK: AHHHH! How do you keep doing that?

SH: This morning, I'm asking the questions, and you're answering. Did you shoot Trey? Did you shoot Trey? DID YOU SHOOT TREY?

KK: No. Yes. And No. Wait, what was the second question again?

SH: Did you shoot Trey?

KK: Oh, sorry, that's no also.

Voice: Excuse me, Seth?

[Seth turns around and sees a twenty-something-year-old man wearing a BOB "Join The Stupidity" T-shirt.]

SH: Who are you? Security?

Fan: The name is Dave Wade Dave.

SH: And you are?

DWD: Just your typical schmuck, you know, like the legendary "Not" Keith. Listen. I was just wondering if we could get on with some different angles and maybe, I don't know, some WRESTLING? Will you quit insulting our intelligence and wasting our time? For god's sake, it's 4:30 a.m., and I FRIGGIN' KNOW who shot Trey!

SH: You do? How do YOU know?

DWD: It doesn't take a GED-level education to tell you that it's obviously Sir Zeno.

SH: Sir Zeno? Why?

DWD: OK. First off, he hates the iAd. I've figured that much out from FWInsider.com. Then, when I watched it, first off, you give the next title shot to a woman who doesn't even work for BOB. Eliza's never ranted. Zeno rants. Plus, in his script, and YES, I know Trey is writing the shows, not BigBOSS or LilBOSS. Why do you keep insulting our intelligence? Anyway, he has Styles mention how losing to Sarah would ruin a person. Who recently lost to Sarah, aside from Death. Which, by the way, Death should have lost because he has zero drawing power and you'd need a forklift to carry him to a decent match.

Death: Can I kill this motherfucker?

SH: Why are you asking me?

DWD: But you know who else lost to Sarah, despite carrying her to her best matches? Zeno. And what's his reward? Jobbing to ANOTHER chick as part of some stupid failed angle involving the STWF, thanks to your network killing the Monday night show. Plus, I heard he was supposed to get a mega-push in the new STWF, getting a disgustingly long Jeff Jarrett type of title reign. But once the STWF idea was killed, that push got forgotten all about. So now Zeno, who isn't the most stable dude on the planet anyway, goes apeshit and gets a gun. Bang. Trey gets shot.

SH: Is this true, Zeno?

Sir ZenoMr. ParadoxDr. ThrillaQueen Mylisiv

[A man in a police uniform enters the ring and cuffs Sir Zeno.]

Officer: Sir Zeno, you are under arrest for the fake attempted murder of Trey Vincent. You have the right to not give an interview. Everything you say can and will be used against you in the office of BigBOSS. If you can afford an attorney, you must have a better paying job on the side. Do you understand these rights?

SZ: Die.

[Sir Zeno is escorted out of the arena as the sounds of "Bad Boys (Whatcha Gonna Do)" plays. Mr. Paradox, Dr. Thrilla and Queen Mylisiv follow after him.]


BigBOSS

["Takin' Care of Business" begins playing. BigBOSS walks down the aisle, dressed in a white suit and carrying a red sack over his shoulder.]

BigB: Ho, ho, ho, Christmas!

Fans: Ho, ho, ho!

BigB: Quite a merry crowd this morning. Hello, underlings! Well, it's certainly been a while since I've seen all of you. A lot has happened. And after what I'm about to say, BOB will never be the same again. This morning is going to be full of shocks and surprises. And some of you may hate me even more than you do right now, if you can believe that! *Ahem* Anyway.

BigB: First of all, I would like to share with you the tale of what brought me to my decision. After my last appearance here, in that match against Kurt Angel, I suffered a pretty serious injury. I didn't know it at first, but when I woke up dead, I knew something had gone horribly wrong. That's right, people. I woke up in the morgue! Luckily, they hadn't embalmed me yet, or I'd really be stiffer than Al Gore right now! Thanks for that one Death!

Death: It's a killer joke, ain't it?

BigB: You and your always relevant jokes. So, despite being dead, I have been given a second chance. And I've decided it's time to get BOB on the right path before it implodes like 10,000 e-feds have done before. So this morning, BOB starts all over again.

BigB: First of all, from now on, BOB will no longer condone male versus female violence! That's right. There will be no more boys versus girls matches. And as a result of that, Sarah "The Jobber Slayer," our ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, and Misty Waters, our Swiss Army Belt champion, are hereby stripped off their respective titles!

[Many male fans cheer. Sarah makes a pouty face. Misty looks like she wants to stick something nasty up BigBOSSes backside.]

BigB: Ladies, it's nothing personal, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to strip you!

[Big cheer from the crowd.]

BigB: Oh, people, no! Please. Ladies, would you please give me back those titles?

Sarah "The Jobber Slayer"Little Good

[Sarah steps forward and hands over her title. She whimpers. Little Good tries to hug her, but he gets sidekicked, goes flying over the top rope and lands on the floor.]

LG: Bloody HELL! Last time I try to be sensitive!

Misty Waters

[Misty Waters steps forward.]

Misty: I guess you prove that even [bleep] makes mistakes sometimes.

BigB: How dare you!

MW: Did you just bleep me?

BigB: How could you hear that? It haven't even edited it in yet!

MW: I....don't know. Wait, I can't say [bleep]? What the fuck? Hold on! I can say FUCK but I can't say [bleep]?

BigB: I come bearing the message of God. And he doesn't want his name used in vain.

MW: Uh, boy...this is censorship!

BigB: I'm saving your soul, Misty.

MW: Believe me, there's nothing left to be saved.

BigB: Ah, but you're wrong.

MW: Alright, Russo. You better make this up to me somehow.

BigB: I plan to. For all the ladies who are afraid that they might never get a shot at gold again, never fear. For as of today, I am introducing a new BOB title.

[BigBOSS reaches into his sack and pulls out a shiny new title belt.]

BigB: May I present the XX-Division Title!

STJS: XX-Division? *Sniff*

BigB: Yep. The cleverly titled title is a play on your genes.

STJS: Then why isn't it called the Wrangler Division title?

BigB: No, not your jeans with a J. Your genes with a G.

STJS: Oh.

BigB: That's right. This is a title that can only competed for if you have the right genetics.

Eliza "The Jobber Slayer"

Eliza "The Jobber Slayer": AHHHHHH! Can I beat SarAHHHHH for the title?

Seth Harker

Seth Harker: You sure can!

Kay Fabe

[Kay Fabe elbows him.]

KF: Seth!

SH: What'd I say?

Eliza: (Lunging at Kay) AHHHHHHHHH!

[Kay jumps through the ropes to get away from Eliza.]

BigB: OK. Now that we've got that all set. Moving on. As of today, the Pop-Up Ads Crashed My Computer Title will no longer be recognized. Because, apparently, Atomo truly is invincible. So, Atomo, I know you're kidnapped and everything, but, buddy, I'm still gonna have to strip you of that title. And Mr. Kidnapper, since you can now never get a Pop-Up title match, well, you might as well let Atomo go.

[On the monitor, the kidnapper falls to his knees and points up before collapsing on his face and crying loudly.]

BigB: Oh, don't cry! It was a great plan. It's just...you know, it's not good for BOB's future if we keep it. That's all I can tell you people. You'll be fine Alan, I mean, mysterious kidnapper.

BigB: What else? (Pause) Oh right. You're all FIRED!

Roster: WHAT?

BigB: I'd explain, but it's time for a commercial break! Stay tuned!

Styles: I hate cliffhangers!

Cliff Hangers: I'm not too found of you either, Styles!

[Cliff hits Styles over the head with a wooden hanger.]

Styles: Oww!


StylesNurse Heidi

Styles: Well fans, we're back. And during the break, we saw on bobincomplete.com that BigBOSS explained what he meant by firing everybody. What? The footage isn't ready?

NH: He basically said that Comedy Central is forcing everybody to sign new contracts because they are planning on running more shows in 2007, with some sort of new deal with some investors in Las Vegas.

Styles: So everybody is getting guaranteed contracts.

NH: Just like a real company. Something's fishy.

Scotty Whatbody

Scotty Whatbody: It's you! BWAHAHAHAHA!

NH: Scotty? Where have you been?

SW: Over there.

NH: Oh. Why don't you go back over there?

SW: Okay.

Styles: Big changes all over. As we speak, backstage, all the BOBsters are lining up to sign their contracts.

BigBOSSPete "XFactor" Trable

[Backstage, all the BOBsters are chatting in a crowded hallway. BigBOSS opens his office door and comes face to face with XFactor Pete Trable.]

PT: Yo.

BigB: Hello, underling.

PT: Yo, homey, I'm here to sign my new deal
So I can stay in BOB and keep on keepin' it real

BigB: ...Is that your whole rap?

PT: Yeah, dogg. I forget the rest. Just show me the Benji's, beyotch!

NH: Well, that's captivating for our viewers. They get to watch contract signings?

Styles: Mud monkey!

NH: What?

Styles: Sorry. We're on Comedy Central. We need more poop jokes.

NH: Oh. Is that why my next line says 'fudge dragon!'?

Styles: Yep.

Vendor: Hot dogs! Get your chocolate hot dogs HEYARE!

[Mercifully, we head to the ring.]

Generic Foot Locker Employee: Hello there! Hahaha! It is I! Generic! Foot Locker! Employee! I am back! Once again! But today! I've brought a! Haha, friend!

Styles: He has friends?

NH: I swear he wasn't foreign when I interviewed him last week.

Styles: He's foreign?

NH: He talks funny, doesn't he?

Styles: Oh. Right.

SW: Hey, Heidi! The continuity police called. They quit! BWAHAHAHA!

GFLE: May I pre! Sent to joo! Logonoa!

Logonoa

["The Humpty Dance" by Digital Underground begins playing. Out walks a Samoan wearing a yellow lava-lava around his waist and a marker board around his neck. He's carrying one of those torches that gets lit at both ends. As he does down the aisle, he does indeed do the Humpty Hump with the torch. Kind of impressive/funny/scary all at the same time. Despite all the effort, Logonoa gets the usual apathetic welcome from BOB fans. He hands off the torch to the Flunky before getting in the ring.]

GFLE: Now, haha! This mang here! Is going! To, haha! Dominate! He may be! Deaf but he! Hahaha! Is not dumb!

NH: He's deaf?

[Logonoa begins writing on his marker board.]

L: Where am I?

GFLE: This is BOB!

[Logonoa begins writing.]

L: This place smells like peepee.

[The crowd boos.]

GFLE: Does the truth! Haha hurt? Florida! This morning! My man here! Has issued! An open! Ha, challenge!

["You Spin Me Round (Like A Record)" hits.]

Unit 5

Styles: It's Unit 5! Unit 5 has accepted the challenge!

NH: And here it comes. Looks like Skeeter and Leary lost the straw game backstage yet again. You'd almost think we rigged that game so they have to break their backs lugging out Unit 5.

Styles: They pulled the short straw in life. Why should it be any different at work?

[Steve Leary and John Skeet drag Unit 5 down the aisle. Once they get it to ringside, Unit 5's pipes move by themselves and it sprays water and takes off into the air like a rocket and lands in the ring.]

Unit 5: *rumble rumble rumble*

Styles: And this one is underway.

NH: I guess Unit 5 didn't need to sign a new deal. I guess Unit 5 is already under warranty or something?

Styles: I'm not sure. Unit 5 is definitely not under any sort of normal contract.

[Unit 5's door opens. A T-shirt hits Logonoa in the face.]

NH: Oh! Logonoa can't appreciate being assaulted with wet laundry!

Styles: Logonoa peels the shirt off his face.

Unit 5: *rumble rumble rumble*

[Crowd pops!]

*THUD!*

Styles: Oh my [bleep]! Logonoa just took Unit 5's door off with one of the stiffest kicks I've ever seen in my life!

*THUD*

Styles: And THAT kick just knocked Unit 5 over!

*THUD THUD THUD*

Styles: Damn! Such blatant disregard for Unit 5's body. OH NO! He just smashed off a couple of Unit 5's dials! How will we wash our clothes now?

NH: YOU bastard! Some of us NEED free laundry!

Styles: He looks unstoppable. Oh no! Now he's just ripped off Unit 5's pipes and is beating it with them!

NH: Unit 5 is losing a lot of water here!

Styles: Generic Ref is calling for the bell thankfully.

Michelle Vincent: The winner of the match, as a result of rage against the machine, Logonoa!

[The crowd boos. Logonoa flips off the crowd.]

NH: I guess he knows some sign language.

Styles: Can we please get some plumbers out here? Are there any washing machine repairmen in the house?

Pete "XFactor" Trable

["X Gonna Get Ya" hits. The crowd boos even louder.]

NH: Well, Logonoa has made quite the first impression. But why is Pete Trable coming out here?

PT: Just what wrestling needs, another fat Samoan
What BOB really needs is the XFactor flowin'
Y'all be happy to know I just signed my new deal
Now I can afford to bid on a date with Jessica Biel!

[Somebody sneaks up behind Trable. The person raises an electric guitar and smashes it into the back of Trable's skull. Big pop!]

Axl

Styles: That's Axl Van Halen!

NH: Who?

Styles: I don't know. But that's what the script is telling me.

NH: Great. What's this, a rock versus rap feud?

Styles: Didn't rap and rock fuse to form a bunch of crappy nu-metal bands?

NH: I guess they're getting divorced in BOB. Nothing good lasts here long.

Styles: What a crazy SMC this has been. What's going to happen next?

SW: DOOKIE!

Snapmare KidPatrick Fitzgerald

[Backstage, Snapmare Kid is standing over Patrick Fitzgerald.]

PF: Whadidya do that for?

SMK I ain't no fag.

PF: All aye asked was if ya wanted a fag. (He holds up a pack of cigarettes.) Awcourse ya know this means a match!

doujaRob Van SpamKurt Angel

[douja, Rob Van Spam and Kurt Angel all stumble past.]

RVS: Whoa, dood! Punch the clown and win $100, dood!

[The three stoners bust into BigBOSSes office.]

BigBOSS

KA: We're here to roll some papers.

[RVS elbows him.]

KA: I mean, SIGN! Sign some papers. Yeah! WOOO!

[The three laugh for no apparent reason.]

BigB: You boys aren't doing steroids, are you?

douja: naw dogg.

BigB: Good. Because I sure don't want Congress bothering us. As long as you ain't on the juice.

KA: Doobie-doobie-do!

Dubya

[Back to ringside. "BYOB" by System of a Down is playing and out comes...Dubya?]

NH: Well, if that isn't an ironic song choice, I don't know what is.

Styles: The crowd is booing everyone's least favorite Republican. I haven't seen him in months. It's been great.

Dubya: My follow Americans! It's great to be here in Republican county!

Crowd: BOOOOOOOO!

Dubya: Thank you. A lot of people have been asking me why I'm back. Well, it's quiet simply. I am back because it is the moralest thing I could do. You need a champagne you can be proud of. I'm sad to report that there are no heroes is BOB. But have no fear. I will see to it that my new prototype will lead BOB into new heights! Please welcome...XXXtreme Machine!

Crowd: BOOOOOOO!

Styles: Oh NO! Don't tell me that Dubya is joining up with XXXtreme Machine.

XXXtreme Machine

["This is XXXtreme" by Harry Dick + The No-Tones plays. And here comes the XXXtreme one, waving a BOB flag as he walks down the aisle and gets in the ring.]

Dubya: B-O-B! B-O-B! B-O-B!

NH: This has easily been the least predictable show we've seen in a while. I would have never guessed this. But why XXXtreme Machine?

Styles: I don't think we'll ever know. Mainly because XXXtreme Machine has yet to make any kind of sense.

XM: tank u dubu! 2geter we wll rool bob!!!!! becuzx we r so hardkor!! Its grate 2 b a republikin and u r lookin @ ur next swis amry champ!!!

[Dubya waves the BOB flag.]

XM: hoo a mung u wil fite for this banr?

Crowd: BOOOOOOOO!

XM: if u rnt bakin xxxtemre macheen n dubu then u r a nazee!!!! N u shood b burnt lick bicthes!!!

Crowd: BOOOOOO!

XM: nazee puncz fuk offfF!!!!!!!

Crowd: BOOOOO!

XM: Iz thir no 1 hoo wil fite 4 bob!!!!???

["Snap Your Fingers, Snap Your Neck" by Prong hits.]

Snapmare Kid

NH: And here comes the Snapmare Kid. Darn. How did he get offered a contract? This would have been the perfect time to get rid of some dead weight.

Styles: Heidi, you may want to break out the champagne.

NH: Why?

Styles: From what I understand, Trey Vincent no longer has a BOB contract! They fired EVERYONE!

NH: Woohoo!

MV: What? They fired my husband? Crap. I need to get a divorce attorney pronto! I wonder if Sarah keep my room open...

Styles: Afraid not, Michelle.

MV: No? What's in MY room now?

Styles: Uh...the washer and dryer.

MV: Why aren't they in the basement?

Styles: The basement is...Little Good's love dungeon, I'm afraid.

SMK: Love dungeon? I mean, uh...I will fight for BOB's cause! I'm a loyalist! And I'm a patriot! And I'm a Taurus! So I think we're compatible.

[SMK takes the flag and waves it.]

SMK: I pledge allegiance to the banner of the Brawlers On a Budget. And the stupidity for which it stands. One federation, under BigBOSS, with low wages and screwjobs for all.

["B.Y.O.B." plays again and this new "force" leaves to the boos of the crowd.]

BigBOSS

[We head backstage to BigBOSS.]

BigB: Fantastic news! Everybody has signed brand new contracts with BOB. So, I would officially like to announce that on the next edition of Sunday Morning—

[A knock at his door interrupts him.]

BigB: I'm doing a pre-tape here!

Sir ZenoMr. ParadoxQueen MylisivDr. ThrillaAlex Smith

[The door opens. It's Sir Zeno, Mr. Paradox, Queen Mylisiv, Dr. Thrilla and Alex Smith.]

BigB: Alex! You're not in your costume!

Kay Fabe

[Kay Fabe runs in.]

KF: Don't I mean ANYTHING in this business anymore! Sheesh!

[She runs out.]

AS: I almost broke my neck in that Meat-Puppet costume. I want a new gimmick!

SZ: Won't you focus. Aren't you wondering why I'm here?

BigB: Now that you mention it...I guess?

SZ: You better guess. You see, as I was getting booked, I realized that I didn't shoot Trey Vincent in Florida. I shot him in New Jersey. So how in the hell could I get charged down here?

BigB: Damnit. They still haven't figured that one out in the WWE. How did YOU figure it out?

SZ: I don't have the intellect of a seven-year-old.

BigB: Ah.

SZ: So get this straight, BigBOSS. You may try to get me arrested for fake attempted murder. But you will NOT stop me from getting what's mine. The ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.

BigB: Oh, really. Well, how do you plan on winning it when you're not employed here?

SZ: (Beat) Could I borrow one of those blank contracts?

BigB: I guess so...

Mr. Paradox: *Ahem*

SZ: Oh, right. Can I also have four more? You know...in case I need some scrap paper?

[BigBOSS hands over the contracts. After some scribbling, Zeno hands the contract back to BigBOSS.]

BigB: *Gasp* You gave yourself a RAISE? I can't believe I signed this! Wait, I didn't sign this!

Dr. Thrilla: *Metal clanging*

BigB: You're a Notary Public?

Dr. Thrilla: *Metal clanging*

[Paradox, Mylisiv, Thrilla and Smith all hand back their contracts as well.]

BigB: You may have won this round, underlings. Oh, you're going to pay, Zeno.

SZ: Actually, I believe YOU'RE going to be the one doing the paying.

[Zeno chuckles as the group leaves BigBOSS's office. We return to ringside.]

Styles: Well, this has been quite an unpredictable edition of Chloroform.

[The lights go out.]

Styles: Ohhhh. Now what?

NH: Styles, get your hands off me.

Styles: Heidi, that isn't me.

NH: Damnit, Scotty!

SW: Woohoo!

[After a few more seconds, the lights come back on. Lying in the middle of the ring is none other than...]

xxx

Styles: It's the You Gotta Be Kidding Me, I Ain't Doing That, Are You Out Of Your Frickin' Mind? Hardcore Title Belt! How did that belt get in the ring?

NH: I'd guess Flunky tossed it in there in the dark. Hi Flunky!

[Standing innocently, leaning against the ring post.]

Flunky: Oh, hi, Heidi.

Styles: What does this mean for the future of BOB? Is BOB going to get EXTREME in 2007 at the Riviera Hotel in Sin City?

SW: I heard Heidi got hardcore there plenty of times!

NH: Shut up, Scotty!

Styles: Fans, we're out of time, and BigBOSS apparently forgot to write a conclusion to this segment, so, for Nurse Heidi and Scotty Whatbody, this is Styles saying, good morning everybody!

Pigeon

[Cut to Pigeon.]

Pigeon: What happened to all those Russian bitches I was gonna flock?


©2006 BOB Wrestling! Even sloppier than sloppy seconds!

 

© BOB Wrestling!

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