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Sunday Morning Chloroform Logo

The Mayhem begins!

[The scene opens to a bad-looking white background with crappy drawings. This can only be...]




[Scotty Whatbody shows up.]

Scotty Whatbody: Actually, we can't afford to have you two have your own show. Our ratings would hit negative numbers.

=<>: FUCK YOU.


SW: Look at those numbers!

[Whatbody points up at the rapidly decreasing number on the screen.]

SW: That's our ratings, and they're plummeting!





SW: Whatever. The producer is canceling this in five seconds.


[And so, the feed was cut before Spaceduck could destroy the Earth. We cut to a pre-taped episode, emanating from a high school gymnasium in Nitro, W.Va. Inside the arena, we are ready to kick things off with Scotty Whatbody and Nurse Heidi. In the ring, is Styles, along with Sarah "The Jobber Slayer," Kay Fabe, Little Good, Xamfir, Jeannie and Bianca "The Jobber Slayer."]

Styles: Hello everyone and welcome to BOB Sunday Morning Chloroform! I'm Styles. And Sarah. We've got a lot of things we need to settle before we get into Sunday Morning Chloroform and March Mayhem, 2003! And they concern these titles right here at my feet.

Sarah: No, there's one FAR more important thing we need to get settled. Bianca here. Why did you call her?

Styles: It's her sacred duty. You can still wrestle, but I'm sorry Sarah. Any time you lose a match, a new Slayer is called. Those are the rules.

Sarah: I thought it used to be whenever I get pinned by a jobber, a new Slayer is called.

Styles: Well, due to some angle development, we had to modify the rules.

Bianca: Since you refuse to eva job to anyone.

Sarah: Oh.

Styles: But I can get you your powers back. It's quite simple actually.

Sarah: Do share.

Styles: Well, here I am, having three titles. And you have no titles and no Slayer powers. So. The way I see it. You and me have a match right here in Nitro, W.Va.!

[No cheap pop for you bitch! Because your Swiss Army champion said so. Hey Sarah. I have your old title, MWAHAHAHA.]

Sarah: Don't make me pun you.

Styles: *Sigh* Anyway.

Sarah: So, you're going to put all your titles on the line against me tonight. Because, you know, that whole, losing my title belt to that other title belt, I had no control over that. I mean, in that whole dealie, I was like Robert Downey Jr. behind the wheel of a car.

Styles: All of my titles?

Sarah: Well, yeah. Why don't you put all your titles on the line against me. I mean, if it wasn't me, you'd surely get your ass kicked in EXTREME style.

Styles: Are you saying I couldn't defeat anybody on the planet.

Sarah: Pretty much, yeah.

Styles: Well maybe, just maybe, this Commentator could beat the Slayer.

Sarah: Excuse me?

Styles: Well, it's not like you are exactly at top strength anymore.

Sarah: I still have more power than you do. I may not be able to slay, but I can still wrestle.

Styles: You could never wrestle.

Sarah: That's it, let's do this thing.

Kay Fabe: Whoawhoawhoawhoa WHOA! Why in the pink hell is Kay Fabe even out here?

Sarah: I dunno.

Xamfir: Why does it always have to be all about you?

Sarah: Because I'm the pretty one?

Xamfir: Oh, right. And what am I?

Jeannie: You are my master and I am your slave.

Xamfir: Um, honey. Not in public.

Jeannie: Are you ashamed of me?

Xamfir: No, no, no. I'm just. Sarah and Styles shouldn't be fighting.

Styles: It's alright. This match will be over faster than Sarah's failed heel turn!

Sarah: Styles! (She stomps her foot).

Bianca: Hold on 'ere a minute. I am The Jobber Slayer. You are just Sarah now, ain't ya?

Sarah: I don't like you.

Kay: Kay Fabe DOES like you. And since Michelle Monroe didn't want to marry Kay Fabe and be screwed to death, Kay Fabe needs to find somebody who is up for the challenge of going one on one with the Lesbian. Unless you have a sister, then Kay Fabe will gladly go one on two.

Bianca: I 'ave no family. I am a Slayer.

Kay: Want to come Slay Kay Fabe?

Bianca: It is my sacred duty to maintain Kay Fabe.

Kay: Oh, it is?

Bianca: Without the Slayer, wrestling would become nothing but mindless and predictable. And it 'as become far too mindless and predictable under Sarah's reign.

Sarah: Excuse me? There are 10,000 indy feds out there. I can only focus on so many at a time.

Bianca: Oh really? How do ya explain Captain Obvious escaping from BOB and going to Action Wrestling?

Sarah: He did what?

Bianca: Or what about Kurt Angel escaping.

Sarah: Angel? But he went back to Heaven.

Bianca: Sure he did. I've seen him in the WWE.

Sarah: No, that's Kurt Angle.

Bianca: That's what I said. And that jobber is their champion.

Sarah: But I--

Bianca: And even with your Slayer powers, you could not fight off the iAd.

Sarah: Alright, STOP IT! Styles, let's do this thing!

Styles: *Gulp*

Bianca: I will continue to degrade ya later.

Sarah: K. Ring the bell.

[Ding, ding, ding. This is so fascinating I could puke.]

Masked Announcer: This contest is for the North American Frozen Tundra Championship. Sarah "The Jobber" is your challenger.

Sarah: Excuse me! *Kick, punch*

Styles: OH MY GOD!

Sarah: Everybody, out of the ring.

Little Good: You're mad. You're all incredibly mad.

Scotty Whatbody: Well, finally, I guess we can take our show over.

Nurse Heidi: This was Styles' show, but I guess that went to his head.

SW: Speaking of things going to heads, Heidi, would you mind going to mine?

NH: *Sigh* You just don't try anymore.

SW: That was clever, wasn't it?

NH: If you and clever were the only two things left on the earth, the earth would be doomed.

SW: Well, fine. Let's just call the match then. Sarah with a side kick to Styles' chest!

Styles: OH MY GOD!

NH: Sarah with the cover. 1, 2, 3. And now Sarah helps Styles up.

Sarah: See? I told you you couldn't beat me.

Styles: So I see now. Owww. But I still have another title to spare. I bet I could take on anybody in the back. Other than you, and win.

Sarah: You going issue an EXTREME open challenge?

Styles: Yes, yes, I think I just might.

["Divine" by KoRn begins playing.]

Styles: OH MY GOD! NO!

[Steve Studnuts leads out Trey Vincent and Seth Harker.]

SW: The iAd is here this morning! Which is surprising, considering last night was Saturday.

NH: I bet they never went to sleep.

SW: Most likely. They should be rather cranky today. Let's see what Studnuts has to say.

Studnuts: Ummm, excuse me, jerkweed sir... but can you spare any of THE FUCKIN' CRACK YOU'RE SMOKIN'? What in the hell was that bullshit? What in the HELL are you trying to do here? If that right there doesn't cause somebody to quit watching this promotion's shows.... BY GAWD NOTHIN' WILL! And that's a fact.

Studnuts: Unless in my drunken stupor I misheard you, jerkweed, I believe you just issued an open challenge. Challenge, accepted.

Styles: Wait, I was just kidding, or something.

Sarah: Wait, wait, wait. Studnuts, you know you don't want to fight Styles. Because if you fight Styles, that means you'll be fighting me too. Just ask Trey how that one turns out.

[Studs looked at Trey, who just kinda shrugged.]

Studnuts: Listen bitch, you don't tell Steve Studnuts or Seth Harker what to do. I don't know about Trey anymore. But that's not the point. Your idiot boy just issued an open challenge. And he's gonna live up to it, and if he wants to walk out of this place, he'll have to do it on crutches, and that's a FACT, ya dig?

Sarah: I am not going to let you fight him.

Studnuts: Well, since you're so scared for that piece of crap, how about we have ourselves a lumberjack match then?

Sarah: Well, OK. But only if everyone at ringside can have bananas.

Studs: Umm. OK. Then we have ourselves THE main event. Cuz Steve Studnuts is in it. So Styles. Remember. I'M STEVE STUDNUTS! And you're not even in the same fuckin' area code... BUT I KNOW.... YOU WISH YOU COULD BE! Later, loser......

[As "Divine" played again, the iAd headed backstage, then the group in the ring left as well. We head over to Scotty and Heidi. Gah, this is boring. I need to make things more interesting. What to do, what to do…]

SW: Rip Heidi's top off.

[Nah, that would make YOU happy. I want to make you both miserable. For I am King Heel of Heels. Nobody is more heel than me.]

NH: Well, I'm sure you'll think of something nice.

[A bowling alley. A pair of teen-somethings are bowling there. Suddenly, a hot chick with long curly brown hair comes on screen and walks up to the couple.]

Chick: Halt.

[The boy and the girl stand still, the boy in mid-bowl for some reason, even though he's obviously not frozen in time, just standing still.]

Chick: Justin and Stephanie are on their first date. But if they had a cell phone, Justin's family could call him every few seconds with annoying questions, ruining his date.

[She puts the phone in his hand.]

Chick: Bowl.

[Phone rings.]

Justin: Hello?

Mom: You ever go out with that bitch again, I'll disown you!

[Phone rings.]

Justin: (A bit agitated) Hello?

Dad: If you two don't work out, can I date her?

[Phone rings.]

Justin: (Very agitated) Hello?

Brother: Yo dawg, if there's grass on the playing field, slide headfirst into third base yo!

[Phone rings.]

Other brother: Yo man, you best not have stolen my roofies to use on that slut. You better pay me back for all the poontang you gonna get bro.

Announcer: Cell phones. Now you can piss off your family from anywhere.

[The X-Files theme begins playing.]

9:36 A.M.

[Sculder and Mully are walking down a hallway past a row of lockers in the poorly lit hallway when all of a sudden, they stop.]

Sculder: Look, Mully. It's just like they said it would be.

Mully: The mystical smoking door. I haven't seen a case like this in years.

Sculder: High school?

Mully: Yep.

Sculder: Do you suppose this is like Old Faithful? Smoking once every hour?

Mully: That smoke smells, oddly familiar.

Sculder: Yes it does. You think we should go inside?

Mully: Well, that is a woman's bathroom

Sculder: Oh, right. Do you think *you* should go in?

Mully: What are you asking?

Sculder: If you think you should go in.

Mully: Why shouldn't I go in? Sculder, we're wasting time. Let's go in.

Sculder: BigBOSS told me it was filler. But alright.

[Mully pushes the girls bathroom door open. Inside, there is yet more smoke. The agents cough and try to wave the smoke away.]

Sculder: Wow, the reports were wrong. It's even better than a mystical smoking door. It's a mystical smoking stall.


Sculder: Oh no, the smoke has somebody trapped inside.

[The agents kick the stall door open and inside find…douja.]

douja: Yo, what da fuck you two doggs doin'?

Mully: Sir, do you realize you are in a womens bathroom?

douja: Whats your point?

Mully: Come on Sculder, this is obviously a hoax.

Sculder: Is it Mully? I don't see a bone in his hand. I see the smoke, but I don't see a blunt, or even a cigarette. Yet I see the smoke.

douja: You Mully? You da bitch imma fuck up later?

Mully: We're wrestling later.

douja: You gonna die honky.

Sculder: Oh no. You're a psychic too?

Mully: He's bad news Sculder. Let's get out of here. Sculder? (She turns around.)

Sculder: Man, these urinals are really low and don't provide much privacy.

Mully: Sculder! That's not a urinal. It's a sink!

Sculder: Is it Mully? Is it really? I want to believe you Mully. But, I really need to pee.

[Mully shakes her head and leaves the room. douja leaves. After Sculder is done, Sculder leaves. And then, thankfully, the scene heads back to the arena, where the nWo Wolfpac music hits and the crowd immediately begins to boo. After a short moment, the Wolfanator appears from behind the curtains and walks down the aisle. He gets in the ring and after telling the fans to 'suck it', he grabs a mic]

WOLF: Who hates you and who do you people hate?!?

Prerecorded crowd noise: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

WOLF: That's right.... It's me, it's me, it's that W-O-L-F to the G-A-N-G!

Prerecorded crowd noise: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

NH: How does he rate pre-recorded crowd noise?

SW: I think he brought it himself.

NH: I see. And the Wolfpac music?

SW: I think the iAd is trying to get BOB sued again.

NH: I see.

WOLF: You see, I have a lot to prove here in BOB.

Prerecorded crowd noise: ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!

WOLF: Shut up... SHUT UP! I am NOT the asshole! You disgusting, filty, pigs are all assholes!

Prerecorded crowd noise: ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!

WOLF: I am a FORCE... to be reckoned with! I'm six feet, eight inches tall. I'm 290 pounds. I'm big, I'm bad, I'm beautiful... and you people can kiss my big, animal fucking ass!"

Prerecorded crowd noise: YAAAYYY.

WOLF: Hey, that isn't my, um…um…

[MWAHAHAHAHA. The fans love this. How could they not cheer.]

WOLF: Now, let's get to my special announcement.

Prerecorded crowd noise: Wolf-A-Na-Tor (clap clap, clapclapclap).

[Wolfie's starting to sweat a bit. Actually a lot. Look at that sweat pour down his face, it's almost like I'm pouring a bucket of water down on him. Oh wait, I AM! HA!]

SW: Man, Wolfie just no-sold that. Expect a match with XXXtreme Machine soon for punishment.

WOLF: You see, I've been getting a lot of crooked faces and bad looks by a lot of the people backstage. ANd you know why? Cuz they think I'm a freak!

Guy in fourth row: No we don't we love you. Cuz you're a member of NASLA. We love sheeps too!

WOLF: I don't love sheeps. I love WOLFS you moron!

Guy in fourth row: Whatever. Anything on four legs is game to me.

WOLF: I AM NOT A FREAK! I AM A HUMAN BEING! Just because I have different sexual preferences and just because people are scared that I might come on to them, does NOT make me a FREAK!

Guy in fourth row: Your clothes would look great in a heap next to my hogpen.

SW: What the HELL are we watching?

NH: I'm totally lost. This is sports entertainment?

[Cut to Tom and Crow on the Satellite of Love.]

Tom: Man, I've never been so

[Back to Heidi and Scotty.]

SW: What the hell was THAT?

NH: A bit of a commentary by Tom I guess. I don't know anymore. I think we're just trying to do some filler here so the show looks longer. Since the matches are gonna be so short.

SW: Ahhh.

WOLF: Forget it... what do you people know anyways....

SW: Is he still here? Damn.

WOLF: As I was saying... I'm tired of getting crooked faces and evil eyes! So, I decided to bring in a good friend of mine to watch my back. Ladies and gentleman, about to enter the arena.... Standing at 6'6" and weighing in at 282 lbs............... MUDMAN!

Masked Announcer: Hey, that's MY job pal!

Wolf: *Sigh* Why am I here.

[Mudman walks to the ring. Inside, he puts Wolf into a bear hug and then bends him over across the middle rope.]

SW: Detached Narrator, STOP IT!

[Awww. We can rape corpses but not living people, eh?]

SW: Right.

[Fine. Mudman picks Wolf back up and this thing goes on or something.]

WOLF: Together, we are THE CREATURES OF CAMELOT! And together, we will be invincible!!! Mudman and I are going to beat down and possibly sexually assault anyone and evryone who steps in our way!

NH: Great.

SW: Don't take him lightly Heidi. Did you see all those exclamation points?

NH: I did.

SW: Well alright then.

Masked Announcer: And their opponents. The Super Duper Keen Team Thing Champions, Sleazy-C and The Commentator!

SW: Well--

The Commentator: Sorry to interrupt Scotty. Folks, this one won't be for the weak at heart.

SW: (Mumbling) And here's our third commentator.

Commentator: But as I step out from the back, accept the cheers from the BOB crowd, I can't help but notice I'm coming out alone. Where is my tag team partner? I just don't know. This roller coaster of a title match just went off the tracks of the unpredictability scale.

SW: It did what?

Commentator: I get into the ring a bit nervously, wary of these two rookies. But I'm a seasoned veteran and no doubt will provide plenty of competition WHOA! Oh. Ahh. D'oh. Son of a. Ack. Ahh. Ahh. Ohh. Oww.

SW: And if you couldn't tell, Mudman and Wolf are beating the crap out of Commentator. Generic Ref is trying to get one of them out of the ring, and finally Mudman heads to the apron.

NH: Think he's cute under all that mud?

Commentator: Oh, Wolfgang is beating me like a government mule. I roll out of the ring with a case of the limber tail and start running like a scalded dog. But OH NO. I run right into Mudman on the floor and OH, Oh, d'oh, he throws me back into the ring, allowing Wolf to continue stomping a mud hole in me. Wolf is tougher than a $2 steak. AARRRRHHH, ARHHHHHH. ARHHHHHH.

SW: Translation, foot on the throat.

Commentator: And Wolf makes the tag to his partner Mudman who is a stud.

Mudman: Will you shut up!

Commentator: Oh, and Mudman hits a vile clothesline on me, and I'm damn near broken in half! THE CARNAGE. THE CARNAGE!

NH: Am I the only one who suddenly misses Schiavone?

SW: Well, The Pope did a number on Shill last time. His neck is acting up. He must have gotten a hype lodged in there somehow.

NH: Yep.

Commentator: Mudman uses his educated feet on me. But I still can't believe my partner has turned his back on me. As God as my witness, this is an auspicious way to kick off Chloroform. But oh! Mudman knocks me down with a punch! That was the damndest punch.

SW: And there's a tag. And Wolfgang is heading to the top rope.

Commentator: Move, damn me, MOVE!


Commentator: Damn it, kick out! KICK OUT. Don't let it end this way.

SW: One. Two. Three!

[Bell rings.]

Commentator: Damn it. Damn you to hell Wolfgang. Damn you to hell you son of a bitch. You crossed the line. Awww, awww hell. There is gonna be hell to pay. In over one year in the business, I have never felt as sick as I do at this moment. Fans don't go anywhere! Folks, there's more BOB action, just a heartbeat away!

[A video store. A woman is searching through some DVDs. She picks up a title and then gets a puzzled look on her face. She pulls out her cell phone and makes a call.]

Girl: Have you seen this movie?

[The woman puts her cell phone to the DVD box for "Lord Of The Anal Ring Toss." The scene changes to a guy siting on the couch in sweatpants next to a box of tissues as sexual moans can be heard in the background.]

Guy: Seen it.

[She picks up another box. "Darkness Cums."]

Guy: That looks good. Get it.

Announcer: With our new picture phones, you can send your girlfriend out to rent your porn without ever leaving the comfort of home. Cell Phones. Finally, a reason to buy one.

[Inside of Super Mollusc's classroom, he is staring at a badly drawn rendition of Ultimate Mussel's corpse. Both halves of it. In the background, he is playing "Don’t Fear (The Reaper)" by Blue Oyster Cult. There is a knock on the door.]

Super Mollusc: Who is it?

Death: Um, er, Death.

Super Mollusc: It's not time for our match yet.

Death: Well, duh. Open up.

Super Mollusc: You're not going to slice my body in half with your scythe, are you?

Death: Of course not.

[Super Mollusc goes to the door and opens it. Death is standing there, leaning on his scythe.]

Mollusc: What do you want?

Death: I just wanted to let you know that in a little while I'm going to kill you, you scum. Bye.

Mollusc: Hold on there Death.

Death: What do you want?

Mollusc: You see this title?

Death: No. It might help if you actually had the title when you were about to make a point. By the way, how is that whole Jobbaz Wit' Attitudez thing working out?

Mollusc: (Getting his belt off the desk) Eh, it fell apart, not surprisingly. Sleazy got kidnapped, Nixon went off to join the 1600 Club, Mr. X became a gangster, Dyslexic Avenger is doing something and…hmm…me and Bivalve…ain't really doing much of anything. I'm just kinda here.

Death: You need a new gimmick.

Mollusc: Yeah, maybe. This one sucks ass.

Death: Didn't Neige give it to you?

Mollusc: Yep.

Death: He's scum. But you'll be dead soon anyway. So no worries on my end about your pathetic existence.

Mollusc: Wait. You see this title?

Death: Do you mean, the You Gotta Be Kidding I Ain't Doing That title you're holding in your hand? Yes. Yes I do.

Mollusc: I got this title by doing things normal men won't.

Death: No you didn't. You got it by BigBOSS picking your playing card.

Mollusc: Oh. Shit. I'm in trouble then.

Death: Yes. Yes you really are. Try not to die before I get to kill you. Scum

[Death walks away.]

Mollusc: Man.

Masked Announcer: The next match is for the Biakkabatuka Championship. Introducing first. Coming to the ring now. The challenger. douja!

["How High" by Redman, Method Man, He-Man, Spider-Man, Batman, Astro-Man, Marlboro Man, Action Man, Aqua Man, Invisible Man, The Man In the Mirror and The Man In The Iron Mask (Blue Man Group Remix)" begins playing just as douja gets in the ring. This is quickly replaced by the "X-Files (Trance Remix)" leading out Mully, who is also wearing her other title belt. Whatever one that is. I don't care enough to go look and see.]

Masked Announcer: And his opponent, from parts hidden by black magic marker, the champion, Mully!

SW: Alright, here we go then. The bell sounds and douja knocks Mully down with a punch. douja drops an elbow on Mully. What chain wrestling here by douja.

NH: Two moves is chain wrestling?

SW: For douja it is. But uh oh, he looks a bit winded. Perhaps his pre-match get stoned habit is costing him here.

NH: Scully is up on the apron.

SW: Are you sure he is?

NH: Yes. I'm looking right at his butt.

SW: Are you sure that's his butt?

NH: I hope so.

SW: Aw, c'mon Generic Ref! Mully just pulled something out of her tights. Man, she was digging really deep. I wonder where she hid that weapon. EWWWW. She just threw a used tampon at douja!

NH: Yuck!

SW: That tampon looked old. What period do you suppose that came from?

NH: Oh, shut up.

Mully: For the record, that came from a case involving a vampire tea smuggling operation that we helped crack. You've heard of green tea, right?

SW: Um, yeah.

Mully: Well, these vampires created red tea.

SW: Not for anything, but do you realize douja is standing right behind you now?

Mully: Is he? (She turns around.) Ah, so he is.

NH: Oh no! douja puts her between his legs.

SW: Heidi, can I put your--

NH: Chronic neck pain! He makes the cover! One. Two. Three.

SW: New champion? douja gets another one.

Masked Announcer: The winner, and NEW, Bsomethingorother champion, douja! Now don't make a bong out of the title!

douja: Word, bitch.

[douja leaves. Sculder revives Mully with some government approved ice cold sludge coffee. She sits up and wipes the goo off her face.]

Mully: He slimed me?

Sculder: How did he beat you Mully?

Mully: I…I…I don't remember.

Sculder: Damn. The truth is out there Mully. One day, we'll free those repressed memories and relieve the burden of your title loss.

Mully: Why are you smiling? You're happy I lost my title, aren't you?

Sculder: The truth. Is out there…

Masked Announcer: The following match is for the You Gotta Be Kidding I Ain't Doing That Championship. Introducing first, in the ring, Super Mollusc.

SW: This must be the first time the champion has received the jobber intro.

NH: Could be. I try not to commit any of BOB to memory.

SW: Too many bad memories can be a burden, I know.

["Them Bones" by Alice In Chains begins playing and out steps Death. He walks down the aisle to the ring, walks up the steps and leans his scythe against the pole. He steps over the top rope.]

Masked Announcer: And his opponent, DEATH!

[The bell sounds.]

SW: And here we…TOUCH OF DEATH. Super Mollusc goes down. One. Two. Three.

[The bell sounds.]

Masked Announcer: What the? The winner of the match, and NEW You Gotta Be Kidding I Ain't Doing That Champion, Death.

SW: The Death era has begun.

[A bowling alley. A pair of teen-somethings are bowling there. Suddenly, a hot chick with long curly brown hair comes on screen and walks up to the couple.]

Chick: Halt.

[The boy and the girl stand still, the boy in mid-bowl for some reason, even though he's obviously not frozen in time, just standing still.]

Chick: Justin and Stephanie are on their first date. But if they had a cell phone, Justin's family could call him every few seconds with annoying questions, ruining his date.

[She puts the phone in his hand.]

Chick: Bowl.

Justin: Hey babe, can I get your number?

[He throws the phone away and chases after the brunette, tackling her.]

Announcer: Our phone chick is hot. Buy our phone.


NH: During the break, the "Are You Out Of Your Frickin' Mind" Hardcore Title belt made its way out to the ring.

SW: And it's got a microphone. What do you suppose it's going to say?

[Super close-up of the belt.]


[Suddenly, "Thursday Night's Alright For Fighting" begins playing, and out steps J.C. Long. He is in back of about five senior citizen looking security guards. They slowly walk down the aisle.

SW: Didn't JC put a restraining order on the belt?

NH: I believe it was 50 feet.

SW: Oh man, what a devious plan! The AYOOYFM title belt doesn't have feet! It can't get away!

AYOOYFM Title: …

JC Long: Neener, neener, neeeeener. It seems to me, "Are You Out Of Your Frickin' Mind" Hardcore Title Belt, as if you are in violation of my restraining order against you. Gentleman! Arrest him!

NH: And the cops grab the title belt. And the fans aren't liking this.

Fans: …

NH: The cops wrap the straps behind the belt and snap them together. Now they're shoving him under the bottom rope. Look at them, literally dragging the AYOOYFM title belt out of the arena.

SW: It's a menace to JC Long. Its free reign must be stopped.

NH: Well, as that mess clears out, let's get on with this show. Who will bail the belt out of jail?

SW: The joint changes a title belt. Good thing it likes it hardcore.

Masked Announcer: The following contest is for the "Four-Play" Tag Titles.

["N.W.O./The Right Time/Injected With A Poison (Complete Indecipherable Noise Eddie B Scratchin' MegaMix)" begins blaring. Out steps Trey Vincent and Seth Harker, best known for their brilliant MSTies. God, I hope they do a new one soon. What? I can't enjoy them? Hehehe.]

Masked Announcer: First, the evil challengers. Representing the incurable Apathy disorder. Trey Vincent and Seth Harker, the iAd!

SW: Seth is all freak and Trey is all drunk as they head down the aisle. This one should be a complete mess.

NH: Eh, what else is new from these guys.

SW: This one actually has some potential. Jim, Brandon and Seth have some high-flying offense, you know. As long as this doesn't fall into the sports entertainment crapper, we should actually have a little entertainment this morning for a change.

["Stayin' Alive" by N-Trance begins playing.]

Masked Announcer: And their opponents, the longest reigning "Four-Play" Tag Team champions in BOB history, the Kent State Krew, Brandon and Jim, Totally Bitch Smacking Packaged! LET'S GET IT ON!

SW: And there's the bell. It's gonna be Jim and Seth to start. Holy crap what a move. That was sweet offense by Jim there. Seth is a bit surprised.

NH: But Seth comes back with some of his usual offense here. OH BABY. He connected with all of that one.

SW: He sure did. And there's a clothesline. Phew. Finally a move I know the name of.

NH: Tough job, hosting this show, ain't it?

SW: Hell yeah. I mean, NO. This is the best Chloroform ever!

NH: Pardon, Shill?

SW: Shut up! You, you, woman.

NH: Oh, nice teamwork shown here by the KSK and they go for the cover. One. Two! No. Seth kicks out and he gets a school boy on Brandon. Brandon kicks out at two. Seth with a big flying side kick. And here comes Trey.

SW: Trey whips Brandon to the corner and follows in. Punch. Punch. Punch. Right hand. Closed fist meets skull. Jab. Punch. And another punch.

NH: And here comes Seth back in. Trey slams Brandon as Seth heads up top. Frog splash!

Trey: Seth?

Seth: What?

Trey: Take this punk out iAd style. You're being too exciting. Slow it down boy.

Seth: Oh, right.

SW: Awww, I hate Trey. And Seth locks in. A sleeper hold.

NH: And he's still got it locked on.

SW: What about now?

NH: Yep, still on.

SW: Did Brandon fall down on his ass yet?

NH: Yep, he just did.

SW: And are his eyes closed?

NH: Yes they are.

SW: Has he gone limp?

NH: Is this a trick question? Quit grinning! I'm not going to set up some stupid Viagra joke. That's so 1999.

SW: You're no fun with clothes on.

NH: And the fans are cheering. Oh man, those high-pitched girlie screams are gonna burst my ear drums.

SW: I know. Why couldn't they go after the highly important late teen porno star demographic?

NH: Jawbreaker! Brandon gets free.

Trey: Hey ref!

Generic Ref: Yes?

Trey: I hold in my hand three coins. A penny, a nickel and a quarter. Now, Tommy's mother has three children. The first child's name is Penny. (Trey holds up the penny while saying this.) The second child's name is Nick. (Trey holds up the nickel. What is the third child's name? (He holds up the quarter.)

SW: Brandon rolls over and gets the hot tag. But Trey has Generic Ref!

Generic Ref: Quarter? HEY! No tag, no tag, no tag! Get out of here. I was in the middle of a quiz.

Jim: Awww, come on man! Can't you let it slide. I mean, look, he's right here in the corner. Why would I fake that?

[Trey throws the coins at Jim who goes flying over the top rope from the impact.]

Trey: Man, I should've done that sooner. Whoda thought.


Generic Ref: So what's the answer?

Trey: Tommy.

Generic Ref: Tommy who?

Trey: The answer is Tommy?

Generic Ref: It is? That doesn't make any sense.

Trey: God, re-read the script after the match is over.

Generic Ref: I would if I could.

NH: Oh no, it's Trey and Seth 2 on 1! Seth is up top! And he hits a twisting moonsault. The Nightbringer!

SW: And it's now time for the most outrageous move in sports entertainment today. Vincent takes out a compass. What the hell? Which direction is he running first? I'm guessing north. And there's south. East. West.

NH: Big Time Fist Drop!

SW: Whoa! Seth just dove through the ropes and speared Jim back to the floor.

NH: Man, this isn't fair. And it wasn't very entertaining either.

SW: But we've got new champions.

[Ding, ding, ding.]

Masked Announcer: The winners of the match, and NEW "Four-Play" Tag Team Champions, Trey Vincent and Seth Harker, the incurable Apathy disorder. Mystery Sports Entertainers 3000!

SW: Crap. Why can't these guys just go away! Now they're gonna get good seeds in March Mayhem 2003.

NH: I know. They'll be in the top 50 seeds now. And we all know the winners always come from the top 50. BOB is doomed! DOOMED! (Pauses.) We'll be right back.

Masked Announcer: Ladies, gentleman and pimply faced teenagers of all ages. This is the main event of the morning. Introducing first. The lumberjacks.

**BARBER: I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.
I sleep all night and I work all day.**

MA: First. Please welcome Sarah "The Jobber Slayer."

**MOUNTIES: He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.**

Masked Announcer: Kay Fabe!

**BARBER: I cut down trees. I eat my lunch.
I go to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays I go shoppin'
And have buttered scones for tea.**

Masked Announcer: Xamfir and his valet/sex slave Jeannie!

**MOUNTIES: He cuts down trees. He eats his lunch.
He goes to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays he goes shoppin'
And has buttered scones for tea.
He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.**

Masked Announcer: And Bianca "The Jobber Slayer"!

**BARBER: I cut down trees. I skip and jump.
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing
And hang around in bars.

Masked Announcer: Representing the bad guys in the iAd, Trey Vincent!

MOUNTIES: He cuts down trees. He skips and jumps.
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women's clothing
And hangs around in bars?!
He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.**

Masked Announcer: Also representing the bad guys in the iAd Seth Harker!

**BARBER: I cut down trees. I wear high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie,
Just like my dear Papa.**

Masked Announcer: And now, oops. Forgot about Little Good! Here he comes now. Sorry buddy.

Little Good: Sod off.

**MOUNTIES: He cuts down trees. He wears high heels,
Suspendies, and a bra?!
What's this? Wants to be a girlie?! Oh, My!
And I thought you were so rugged! Poofter!
He's a lumberjack, and he's okay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
He's a lumberjack, and he's okaaaaay.
He sleeps all night and he works all day.**

Masked Announcer: Your lumberjacks! The following contest is for the Eastern Slavic Mongolian Goulash Championship.

["Divine" by Korn starts to play and Steve Studnuts appears on the top of the ramp. The girls in the crowd start to cheer and whistle when they see him. Studnuts is full of himself and he starts his way down the ramp to ringside. He takes his time and checks out the females in the front rows. He finally reaches ringside and slides in. That song is replaced by the ECW theme as Styles steps out.]

Masked Announcer: And his opponent. From Cloudydale, Connecticut, this, is, STYLES!

SW: Look at our boy. He's stupid, but he's brave.

NH: I think he's sexy for doing this.

SW: You do?

NH: Think about it. A skinny little guy going up against Steve Studnuts, one of the most dangerous wrestlers on the planet. I'll gladly nurse him back to health.

SW: Styles! Want any help?

[Bell sounds.]

SW: Eh, maybe I'll get lucky and he'll just die. Styles hands his glasses to Sarah for safe keeping and there goes the tie.

NH: Go Mikey!

SW: Have you ever seen so many bananas in one place before? And remember, I said bananas. As in the fruit, not the body part.

NH: Extreme fruit-related violence could break out at any second.

SW: But one obvious missing element is the "Are You Out Of Your Frickin' Mind" Hardcore Title Belt, which was arrested earlier.

NH: What does that belt have to do with the match?

SW: Well, when all the run-ins start, people will wonder why it isn't joining in.

NH: Scotty…

SW: Yes Heidi?


SW: What the hell?

NH: Maybe some day I'll beat that sense into you.

SW: Oh baby. You can beat me all you want! I knew you liked it rough.

NH: Studnuts and Styles are just circling each other. Studs looks very confident, while Styles…well, looks like he's about to have an accident of some sort.

SW: Way to keep those bowels in check, Styles. YOU THE MAN!

NH: Here we go! OH MY GOD!

Styles: OH MY GOD!

NH: DEATH VALLEY OF THE SUN DRIVER! Studnuts makes the cover!

Sarah: NO!

Trey: Oh no you don't bitch!

NH: Vincent has Sarah by the ankles.

SW: One. Two. Three! YES! Another announcer loses his title.

NH: At least he had the balls to defend it. Sarah and Trey are in the ring. Oh. Sarah pokes Vincent in the eye with the banana. And now she peels it. Vincent just slipped on the banana peel! And here comes Harker! Flying side kick into Sarah, who is down.

SW: Uh oh, all hell is breaking loose! Bananas are flying in every direction! Look out Heidi!

NH: Ahh.

SW: Man, that bonked right off your nose. At least your used to phallic shaped objects bouncing off there.

NH: Everyone's brawling in the ring. The iAd is taking over. They're beating down every member of the Shaggy Gang. But here comes Bianca. She's kicking some major ass. Kay Fabe and Seth Harker and fighting now as Bianca kicks and kicks some more on Vincent. And now Studs goes down.

SW: And here come the Kent State Krew. Jim and Brandon are in to even out the odds. But wait! Here comes Massive Man Rendition First. And here comes the Creatures of Camelot, The Wolfenator and Mudman are in the ring.

NH: And more are on the way.

SW: Oh man, it's the pre-big event all hell breaks loose brawl!

NH: Here comes Albert DeSalvo and DMD brawling down the aisle.

SW: How did we afford to bring all these people here? And there's Coma, coming out to help his buddy Seth. Here comes the 1600 Club. Dude Whose A Dead Ringer For Clinton, Guy Who Slightly Resembles LBJ and The Man Who Looks A Bit Like Nixon are in the ring.

NH: But the brawl has spilled around ringside. Banana peels are everywhere. Bodies are flying in every direction.

SW: Man, this is like every night at Heidi's house. Food and flailing bodies.

NH: It's the Three Guys! Violent Pacifist, Sir Hungalot and Jean Bannister are out to the ring. but oh no, here comes Death, Spaceduck and Spacecop! Those six men, um, five guys, um, three guys, two smilies and one supernatural being are brawling in the aisle.

SW: And more people are on the way out. It's Candy Cantaloupes. And look, she's coming for YOU Heidi.

NH: Ohhh. I so didn't want to fight in this outfit tonight. Wait. KAY!!! CANDY CANTALOUPES IS A LESBIAN!

SW: Wow. Smart thinking. And now Kay just tackled Candy. Oh baby. This is, HEY GET OUT OF THE WAY! I'm trying to watch Candy Cantaloupes make out with a lesbian on the floor!

Styles: OH MY GOD!

NH: Styles, are you OK?

Styles: NO! I feel EXTREMELY horrible. But I figured this table would be the safest spot for the moment. This is absolute bedlam. And they're still spilling out from the back. Here comes The Commentator. And here comes The Agency, Mully and Sculder. And douja!

NH: All these men and women will be taking part in March Mayhem 2003! It's gonna be Mayhemrific!

SW: I thought it was Mayhem-tastic this year?

Styles: Bohemoth is here! And Da Sassy Bitch! BVD! The Fire Chief! They're al coming out!

SW: Loony Lenny? Does he even work here anymore?

NH: I don't think so. And here comes Graphic Flatulence. The Stoned Hookers, Stone Hot Steve Dawson and Hooker T. K-Con, Kelly Erik.


Styles: OH MY GOD! The ring just collapsed! Too much weight. Bodies are flying everywhere!

NH: Bivalve! DovE. Las Vegas Davis. Maui Wauie. Man, we've got a traffic jam in the aisle of people wanting to get involved in the fight, but they can't. Mr. Thursday Night J.C. Long, Pope John Paul II, Dustbuster Boy, the Snapmare Kik, RVD, all of them want to get in. Ah, here we go. We now have a crossing guard directing traffic.

Crossing Guard: You two, go fight over in the corner. You six, take it under the basketball hoop. You four. Why don't you go over by the bleachers there.

Styles: And the brawl heads all over the gymnasium. And here come more guys from the back. Dyslexic Avenger. Mr. X. StreetMime II. Urine. XXXtreme Machine. Both Undietakers. Khan, Randy,

SW: Is there no end to this? Man, this is pushing it a bit, isn't it? Even the jobbers are out here brawling?

Styles: OH MY GOD! Insano Mano is BACK! He charges down the aisle and OH MY GOD! He just dove into the ring and took out about a dozen people!

NH: Super Mollusc just ran out. And there's Unoriginal Man. Stinkbutt Nastyass. Mr. Intensity. Oh NO. He's got lighter fluid and a box full of matches.



SW: That idiot just set off the sprinklers!

NH: Ah. I'm getting wet!

SW: So this mass chaos arouses you, does it?

Styles: Stinkbutt Nastyass is out now. Tell me I don't see what I think I see!

SW: What the rapidly falling blue body-shaped object from the ceiling?


Styles: OH MY GOD! The ring just got a giant hole in the middle of it! Was that Kamikazie Ken?

SW: Who else would it be?

NH: Man, the iAd is still brawling with the Sarah's group over by the bleachers. The Three Guys and that Death collection is down by the basketball nets.

SW: OH NO! Now dodge balls are flying in every direction. What in the hell?

Styles: And here come the wiffle ball bats. OH MY GOD! Graphic Flatulence just hit a line drive right into Stinkbutt's groin!

SW: HEY! They've got soccer balls now too! Dustbuster Boy kicks a ball right at The Pope! But a Holy Light stops it in mid-air. OH, right in Dustbuster Boy's face!


NH: Will you watch out! I can't believe all these dodge balls. AH! Orange cones? Basketballs, footballs. Am I seeing things? Is Trey Vincent strangling Little Good with one of those flag football belt thingees?

Styles: Sarah and Studnuts are dueling with wiffle ball bats. Get him, Sarah, GET HIM!

SW: Yikes! SMK just snapmared Urine right onto an orange cone! That's just, wrong.

Styles: DUCK!

[Damn it. How'd you see that coming.]

NH: Why are you throwing dodge balls at us?

[Because it's fun. Uh oh, why are sounds of cookie jars breaking filling the gymnasium?]


[Oh, this is it. Let's get it on bitch.]


Styles: Detached Narrator just grabbed the OWTTM and hit JJ in the face with it! OH MY GOD! THAT'S NOT FAIR!

[Heel, remember? Sheesh. And now, I stomp away on a helpless Hardcore JJ and hold the OWTTM high in the air. I am gonna be the driving force behind BOB whether you people like it or not.]

Xamfir: Not if I have anything to say about WHOA!


BigBOSS: Sorry Xamfir.

Xamfir: My nose!

BigBOSS: You made me do this.

[Do what?]

Styles: What's that noise?

NH: It sounds like a bunch of former BOBsters running in a pack straight toward Detached Narrrator, who is exposed at the moment. As long as he has his hands on the OWTTM, he's STUCK in our world.

[Get off me you bastard. What the hell?]

BigBOSS: Crazy glue.

SW: And here they come! Oh good, they're in alphabeticl order, that'll make things much easier! It's: Alex "No Gimmick" Smith! Andrew Spink! Art Terry of the Universal Donors! "Backboard" Barry Brown of the Ambulance Jockeys! Back Road Billy of the New Age Inlaws! Bait of the Techie Salesman From Hell! Barbie "The Bride" Banner! Take it Heidi!

NH: Beastie Al of The REALLY Nasty Boys! B.F. Sack! BILL! Wow, they thawed out my Billy? Billy Polar! Birdboy! Blackjack Hooligan! Bobo Q. Fiendish! Bretislav Plee of Czech Pleez! Bubba Gump! "Buffalo" Ignacius Cody of The Amish Cowboys! "Cap" Larrie of the Universal Donors! Captain Obvious! Captain Twilight! Choads Moker! Claude Leroux! Colonel "Pops" Khorne! And Colossal Cranium Chris! Take it Styles!

Styles: Dean Kamen! Dizzy Desi of the Circus Freaks! DJ Rawkus! Dr. Silaconne M. Plants! Ed Tenta-Shaw! Enrique Espanyola! Ensign Dick Groper of Don't Ask/Don't Tell! Fanboy! Feminine Mystique! Flatline! The Flaskmaster from the Dungeon of Dumb! Fullah Shiite! Fumbducker Diontray! Fumbducker Leon! Garry "The Gurney" Green of the Ambulance Jockeys! The Geek! George of Dead and Dumber! G.I. Slow! Goffer! Back to you Scotty!

SW: Isn't this a bit of an outrageous way to fill up a thin card? *Sigh* Head Zepplin! Hector "Crude" Oil! Herbert T. Romaine ("The Caprini Kid")! Homicidal Hank! Identity Crisis Man! Jan Plee of Czech Plees! "Kermit"! Lenny of Dead and Dumber! Lord Lestat von Sexbat! Luke Warm! Massawa of the Dungeon of Dumb! MC Carjack! Mittens! Mr. Claven! Heidi, take it again!

NH: Necro Phil of The REALLY Nasty Boys! Organ Grinder! Pedro Chang the Chinese Spic! Pencil Necked Geek! Premslwvk! Rear Admiral Ben Dover of Don't Ask/Don't Tell! Rick Sickly! Roy D. Rage! Sasquatch of the Dungeon of Dumb! Sgt. Genocide! Sir Ronald "Miserable Git" Killalot! "Slightly Gay" Ray of Too Lame! "Smart" Mark Green! "Soft Core" Zack! "The Stereotyped Face" Justin Voss! Switch of the Techie Salesman From Hell! Scotty, take us home!

SW: Terra Rism! ThatGuy! The Tiger! "Too Fat" Matt of Too Lame! Tostin Showers! TransContinental Jim of the New Age Inlaws! The Ultimate Worrier! Viet Kong! The Wheel-barrow Man! "Wild" Isaacius Hickok of the Amish Cowboys! Xenomorph! Zilla! Everyone in BOB we forgot to put on the Roster page! Oh, hell, and here comes everybody from Fictional Friday Night. Oh no! And everyone from the STWF who is still alive. Is that Scuzz? And Lock, Shock and Barry! MISS BEHAVE! LILBOSS!!! This is insane! Detached Narrator is getting a bigger beatdown than Neige Thirteen ever did!

Styles: Fans, we're out of time. For everyone in BOB, OH MY GOD!


© 2003 BOB Wrestling. Bowling shoe ugly!


© BOB Wrestling!

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