SEND US MONEY: FOOTBRAWL!
Incomplete, and not even speel checked!! So There!
We pan the packed crowd filling (half) the Budget Bowl in Tampa, Florida as a redneck band plays a bad Monday Night Football Theme knock-off. The top-down shot reveals the field is only 60 yards long... no wonder it's a Budget Bowl! Signs go up, including "STONECUTTER Me!", "Beer Me", "Members Founding The Avenger Dsylexic Agency Of Protection", "Show Me Your Pussy (Cat), Brandon" and "Show Us Your CENSORED Candy". A sweeping zoom takes us to the announce teams "Sky-High Booth" where Mike, Scotty and Nurse Heidi are present. Mike opens his mouth to speak, and we.... cut to BOB New Jersy. GBH is there.
GBH: Duh. Welcome to Footbrawl. Yur. Big show. Shiny belts and stuff. (scratches his head for a few seconds) Duh. Big Hurty Football game. Whee. And stuff. Yur. (scratches his butt for a few seconds longer) Duh. Beer me.
(A frat boy pours a pitcher on GBH's head. Cut back to Tampa.)
MM: ... and LOTS more! So let's head up to The Masked Announcer for our Special Curtain Jerker Match!
SW: Wow! That was your best intro EVER, Mikey!
NH: I'm impressed!
MM: Yeah, yeah... enough with the sarcasm. Let's get things started here at FootBrawl with our exciting opening match!
SW: Huh? You meant to say boring, re-fill your beer mug and take a whizz snore fest, right?
NH: That wasn't very nice, Scotty... but you're probably right.
(The Flunkie runs out and hands Mike a piece of paper)
MM: What's this? (begins reading) We are sorry to inform the fans that the "Line-Drag-Delete" match has been canceled. (insert Luke Warm-esque crowd pop) It appears Mt. Dew Man has been arrested for false representation of a Pepsico product without their consent, and thus, cost the company millions in revenue. Fanboy was severely injured in a freak accident while eating a danish.
NH: That's terrible!
SW: *pfffft* *cough* *snicker*
MM: We express our condolences to the families of both wrestlers and want to thank MDM and Fanboy for their participation in BOB. We are sadened by this heartfelt loss. Thank You. Signed-The BigBoss.
NH: Ahh, that was sweet.
MM: Wait, there's more. It says, "Mike, this is going to leave you about 10 minutes of downtime, have Clive show Final Foursome highlights from Minneapolis and you, Scotty, and Heidi talk about what happened there. Okay? Hey Mike, did you like that crap about Mt. Dew Man and Fanboy? Pretty witty, huh? Those guys sucked and I didn't want to waste air time on those clowns. Damn Li'lBoss for booking that! P.S. Do not read this part on the air."
SW: You're an idiot, Monroe!
MM: Can it, Scotty! Just get Clive out here and roll video highlights from THE ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.
NH: He's already out here, Mike...who do you think is taping us?
MM: Good point! Clive, roll the video!
Clive: Ummm, there's a problem with that. I ran out of tape somewhere just after the Bohemoth/Bobo match. I had to pick up one of those disposable cameras. Got some nice still photos, though!
MM: Oh good grief. Hand 'em over...
NH: Is that a puppy?
Clive: Sorry 'bout that.
MM: (looking at stack of photos) Okay, here's The Mall of America, the site for the Final Foursome. Nice shot of Camp Snoopy and this one of a blonde pushing a baby stroller...
SW: Wow! SHE had a baby? What a body! WHOO HOO!
MM: Here's the Giant Leggo Store...did you take ANY of the matches?!
Clive: They're in there, honest!
MM: Nice shot of the ceiling...finger slipped, huh? Happenes to me all the time.
NH: Yeah, I have that problem ocassionally. But never with a camera. *ahem*(shifts uncomfortably in chair)
MM: HERE THEY ARE! douja and Luke Warm! There's Luke putting the STONECUTTER on douja! And douja with his foot on the rope. douja rolling a blunt. douja smoking a bong. douja passing a joint to Luke. What the hell? And there's Billy Polar! Fuzzy image of him hitting Luke with a chain!
SW: Bike chain? Russian chain? Gold neck chain? What? Lemme see!
NH: Try to harness your obviously fake enthusiasm, Scotty. It's really annoying.
MM: Here's Generic Ref taking a hit of douja's weed!
Clive: Sorry, that should have been before the one of Billy hitting Luke with the chain.
MM: Right! Billy here, putting douja over Luke and the ref missed it! Polar helped his buddy advance! Picture here is Generic Ref counting Luke out! douja pinned Luke?!
SW: Picture's worth a thousand words, pal! Heel's rule, baby face's drool!
MM: douja cheated! He's a rotten cheater! Cheat, cheat, cheat! He could never beat Luke Warm straight up one-on-one!
SW: Quit yer whining, you baby. Or should I start calling you Mike Nethery?
NH: Hey, there's Bohemoth. Well, his torso. What'd you do, Clive...stand right in front of him when you took that?
Clive: No. I was in the same place I was when I took the ones of douja and Luke.
NH: I see. Okay, where's Sexbat then?
MM: Don't you remember? He no showed! He said there was no way he was going to wrestle Bo.
SW: Would you? What is Sexbat...buck 'o five soaking wet? Bo outweighs him by 8 tons! I would have cancelled, too!
NH: Hey, I found a picture of douja and Bohemoth! Bo bloodying douja! Woman with stroller again. douja with an uppercut lowblow. Nice angle, Clive.
SW: Nice angle? It looks like Bo's taking a dump and poopin' out a turd with a fist on the end! Guess it didn't help that douja is African American...
SW: Well...it does.
MM: Hey, there's Polar again! And he has on...what is that? Dancing shoes?
NH: He's standing on Bohemoth's back...what IS he doing?
MM: A classic maneuver! (holds up picture) This is Spinal Tap!
SW: Where? I love those guys! Did ya know one of 'em is "Lenny" from Laverne and Shirley?
MM: *ahem* There's Generic Ref again, this time counting Bo out! Polar has punked out both Luke and Bohemoth! And helped douja win THE ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS!
NH: Interesting, doesn't Polar wrestle Luke AND Bohemoth in a three way dance later tonight to determine the number one contender for TOWTTM?
MM: Ahhh, yes he does! Little pay per view "receipt" for Polar tonight. Payback's a bitch!
SW: Hey, look at this picture! Polar is handing the Pan-Galactic turned super title over to douja! Look at all that crap they added to it! That belt goes from douja's upper thighs to his nipple line...and he's about 6' 2"!
NH: Yeah, the little plastic "gems" were a nice touch, too. (rolls eyes)
MM: (looking at watch) Has it been 10 minutes yet?
NH: I think so, cue Masked Announcer and the other jobber match.
SW: Hey Clive, can I have that second stroller picture?
MM: Scotty, please...stop with the stroller thing, will ya? She's a mother for God's sake. Hey, by the way...did you guy's hear that fans in Charleston rioted after Bohemoth's loss to douja? Sports related public disturbances just keep popping up everywhere...
SW: What'd you expect from a bunch of backwater hillbillies? That'd never happen in a CULTURED town...like say, Tucson for instance.
MA: Ladies and Gentlemen! This match is scheduled for one fall or a timekeeper kill-this-match sign due to total crowd disinterest...
Insert Curtain Jerker Match
NH: Okay, I'm confused...
MA: Ladies and gentlemen... this contest, scheduled for one fall... no wait, three falls... stupid elimination matches... is for the "YGHF" Tag Team titles! Introducing first, the current YGHF Champions... already in the ring, which says a lot for their chances of retaining... EDDIE B and THE FLUNKY!
(Eddie B holds a tape deck up to the Masked Announcers microphone. A tinny reproduction of "With A Little Help From My Friends" as sung by Eddie B and The Flunky plays. You thought the Ruegoau Brothers were bad singers? (Or is that reference too dated for our younger viewers... subsitute "Double J" if you like. No? Umm.. Three Count? "Prime Time" Elix Skipper?) Anyway, you aint heard nothing till you've heard this one... fortunatly, this is a text-only web-cast, so you can't! )
MA: Secondly... Representing the Kent State Krew... Josh and Jim... MASSIVLY PACKAGED!
(Ricky Martins' "Living La Vida Loca" plays... which is about the closest we've ever got to the Kent Staters actual theme music of "She Bangs". Jim and Josh ride down to the ring in a tiny, motorised wrestling ring (Which the BOSS picked up cheap at Vince McMahon's last yard sale.) A mixed reaction from the fans, as always, though slightly more heel-ish than usual. Squashing a defensless cat on TV does that, I suppose...)
MA: Introducing thirdly... One of them is Massivly Packaged, the other Flunkied out of the NHL... Sir Hungalot and Jean Bannister.. PAIN AND PLEASURE!
(The Divynals "I Touch Myself" plays as P & P ride down to the ring. The Realy-Quite-Big-Screen shows a quick montage of Hungalots.. umm.. Coming.. attractions. Including "Me, Myelf, Irene, Her Sister, Her Friend Betty, Bettys Mom, Tyrone The Pool Boy and Irenes' Shetland Pony.", "8mm and 16 Inches" and "Erin Bonk-a-Vitch". Parents are sheilding their childrens eyes...)
MA: And finally.. making their BOB debut... at a combined weight of??? pounds... DEAD AND DUMBER!
("Last Dance With Mary Jane" plays as the mini-ring cart trundles out once more. Lenny is waving to the fans in attendance... George is slumped over the ropes. The cart lurches to a stop, and George slithers to the ground in a boneless heap.)
(Lenny picks up his slightly-deceased partner and carries him into the ring, propping him up against the ringpost. Even Sir Hungalot looks slightly disgusted, which is no mean feat.)
MM: That's one of the most distasteful things I've ever seen in a wrestling ring... and I watched the "Hardcore Evening Gown Match", I might add...
NH: Oh, thanks for reminding me of that fiasco.. damn, I feel like I need a shower, now...
NH: What happened?
MM: Scotty passed out! I think he just envisioned you taking a shower...
MM: And here we go! Eddie B and Josh are set to start things off! Eddie B poses.. and demonstrates the "Milking The Heifer" dance he created recently... I don't think that one will catch on, somehow...
NH: Josh throws a standing drop-kick! Missed by a foot, but Eddie B. sells it anyway, like the rookie he is!! Josh tags Jim in right away! Double elbow drops! Double kip-ups! Eddie B staggers to his feet... The Kent Staters to the ropes... DOUBLE FLYING FOREARMS! Eddie B. could be finshed off right here! Jim covers.. 1..2.. Broken up by Jean Bannister!
Josh: What the hell are you doing? It's an elimination match, you moron!
JB: Oh, sorry... force of habit, eh? Cover him again...
MM: Jim covers again.. 1..2.. Jean drops a knee on Jims' head and breaks the cover again!
MM: Josh has had enough! Leg lariat drops Jean like a stone! Sir Hungalot enters the ring and retaliates with a nice Thesz Press! The Big Sur straddles him and begins a series of piston-like rights and lefts to Joshs' face!
(The camera slowly zooms in towards Sir Hungalots... package. On the Decidedly-Larger-Than-Average-Tron, this is an impressive sight to behold.)
MM: Oh, lord! Please Mr Producer, zoom out! Zoom OUT!
NH: Zoom IN! Zoom IN!
SW: Wha'.. wha' happened? Wh.. FAWK ME!
MM: There goes Scotty again... Oh, thank God, we finally cut to a different angle... Pain and Pleasure and the Kent State Krew are still beating the hell out of one another.. Eddie B. tries to crawl back to the Flunky...
NH: Lenny is in the ring! He's got Eddie... BELLIES-TO-BELLY SUPLEX!!! He isn't the legal man, but The Generic Ref counts anyhow.. a-one, a-two, a-three! Put a fork in him, he's done! And the brief butterfly run of our "We Haven't Got Enough-Tag-Teams-For-A-Proper-Division" Paper Champs comes to a merciful end in a rather crowded 38 seconds!
The Flunky: HEY!
MM: Face the facts, Flunky... you were a stop-gap measure in anyones book, my friend! Lenny lines up the unsuspecting Sir Hungalot and forearms Hungalot in the back of the head! I don't think Sir Hungalot was expecting a shot in the rear!
NH: Now THERE's a pretty image!
SW: HWah'.. hey, what happened? Where did the champs go?
NH: Back with us, Scotty?
SW: I think so... I was having this dream where I was a loofah, and just as someone picked me up, an anaconda attacked me...
MM: A quick look into the twisted pysche of Scotty Whatbody there, folks... Lenny hammers on Hungalot as Josh and Jim drag Jean out to the floor! A roundhouse right lifts Hungalot off his feet! Pick-up and a BIG Bodyslam!
SW: Hungalots being manhandled... although that's nothing out of the ordinary for him! He's getting up again...
MM: Yep, he's a hard man...
MM: .. to put down... geez, anyone else want him to tag Jean in?
SW: Yup, I'm running out of smutty jokes and double entandres already!
MM: Hungalot tries for the hot tag, but Jim drags Jean off the apron! Jim and Josh deliver a punishing spiked sidewalk slam on the unforgiving Astorturf(TM)! Lenny whips Sir H to the corner... Avalanche! Hungalot is pancaked! A second attempt... Hungalot raises the boot and staggers the big man! He's going for a slam... can he get Lenny up?
NH: If anyone can, Hungalot can!
MM: No! He can't lift him! Lenny double underhooks Sir H and suplexes him across the ring! He looks for a tag... and tags in George? This should be interesting! Can Sir Hungalot work with a stiff?
Scotty/Heidi/The Crowd: EEEWWWWWWWWW!!!
MM: Sorry, my bad! George slumps into the ring... Sir Hungalot covers him gingerly... 1! 2! 3! Dead and Dumber have been eliminated! It's down to two teams! Very little offense from George there...
NH: Like you were expecting something else? He's DEAD, Jim... I mean, Mike!
MM: "Totally Massive" Jim rolls in.. uhh, sorry, what was his nickname again?
SW: He's the "Masked Debator", Mike...
MM: Oh, please Scotty... even I can see through that one...
NH: Yeah, and if Mick Foley finds out you're ripping off gags from his book, he'll rip your lungs out...
MM: A winded-looking Sir Hungalot reaches to Goon2K for the tag... uh-oh! Jim's making "Bukka-bukka-bukka" noises and imitating a chicken! Or possibly Terry Taylor... Will Sir H's famously over-inflated...
MM: ... ego get the better of him?!
SW: Oh, right... heh heh... that!
MM: Sir Hungalot looks to the fans! Jean is imploring him to make the tag!
SW: Don't do it! Be a man! Remember... "It's not words that make a man... it's how big his cojones are that does it!"
SW: He said it in "The Hung Like A Horse Whisperer"! Great film! Two thumbs WAY up...
MM: And the Big Sur turns away from his partner and locks up with Jim! This is a huge mistake in my opinion! Jim quickly slithers into a standing waist-lock... Sir H. with a standing switch! Back elbow sends him reeling! Nice side-Russian legsweep! Jim drags Hungalot towards the Kent State Korner and makes a tag to Josh... A slingshot legdrop! Nicely done! Covers.. kickout at 2! Big forearm upside the head retains control for Josh!
NH: Looks like you were right, Mike... Jean Bannister is trying to pump the crowd up, as Josh slows things down with a boring old chinlock. Jeans in the ring! But the Generic Ref moves to block him...
SW: And there's the classic "Heel Chinlock Switcheroo" as Jim replaces Josh! Nice to see the young guys are studying the tapes... and the blissfully oblivious referee turns around...
GR: Hang on! You didn't make a tag! OUT! You heard me!
SW: Hey! That's not supposed to happen!
MM: A rare display of competency by the Generic Ref... at the wrong time... *sigh*. Jim grudgingly leaves the ring as Josh starts laying in some wicked chops... snapmare take-over and we're back to Rest-lemania X-7! This time with a reverse chinlock... oh the excitement... Hungalot powers up to his feet and reverses the hold!
SW: Hungalot's making a comeback...
NH: WHAATT? Oh, sorry... HORRIBLE mental image there...
MM: Baaaccccckkk Suplex! Hungalot tries to crawl to his corner.. Josh reaches up and tags in Jim, then grabs Hungalots ankle to prevent the tag!
Crowd: Booooooo! YOU GUYS SUCK! YOU GUYS SUCK!
SW: Wow, the fans are giving it to them! Is this some sort of college thing?
MM: Beats me, Scotty... Whip to the ropes... Double clothesline! Both men are down! Now can he make the tag? A crawl race in progress... Hungalot is nearly there... Jim leaps in to distracts the referee! The tag is made! But the ref never saw it! Will he allow it?
SW: With our ref, probably!
MM: NO! He's sending Jean back to the apron, leaving Sir Hungalot to do his Ricky Morton impression for a little longer! Hangmans neckbreaker drops him, but it only gets a two-count! Josh sets up a figure-four... Hungalot jerks him off!
MM: Sorry, jerks Josh off his leg... this sentence isn't going to get better no matter HOW I say it! Josh superkicks Hungalot and covers, but Hungalot tosses him off again!!
MM: Oh, you know what I meant! Jim tags back in and whips Hungalot to the ropes... drops his head and gets a big knee-lift! Hungalot crawls for the corner again... AND MAKES THE TAG!!!
SW: Mark Alert!!
MM: Jean Bannister is in the house and cleaning... umm... house! Clothesline on Jim! Clothesline on Josh! Bodyslam for Jim! One for Josh! One for Hungalot! Huh? Well, no-one said Jean was the smartest guy on the roster! Running bulldog lays out Josh as Hungalot clotheslines Jim over the top rope!
(Cut to BOB New Jersey.)
GBH: Duh. House on fire. One man assault force. Duh. Same old, same old... Yur.
(Back to ringside.)
MM: Jean's heading up! This could be the make-or-break moment right here! FROG-SPLASH!
(Five guys at ringside hold up signs with a "*" on each one.)
MM: One... TWO... Kickout at TWO-AND-A-HALF!! Jean can't believe it! Picks him up... BRAINBUSTER! ONE!! TWO!! TH...
SW: NO!! Jim pulled Jean off Josh!
MM: All four men are going at it now!! What intensity! And here comes the Predictable Stable Run-In(Pat. Pending)!! Brandon is coming down the aisle! But the Violent Pacifist was in the crowd, and cuts him off half way down! Brandon gets up close and personal with Mr. Bat!
NH: VP's setting him up... NINE-INCH NAILER! On the ramp! He's waving to the back... and the Flunky is coming back to ringside... in a referees shirt? VP cobvers Brandon.. 1..2..3!! Does this mean what I think it means?
MA: Ladies and gentlemen... here is your NEWWWWWW "Are You Out Of You Fornicating Mind" Hardcore Champion... THE VIOLENT PACIFIST!
MM: Incredible... OH!! SLAP SHOT!! SLAP SHOT!! Jean nailed the Slap Shot on Josh! Sir Hungalot has Jim locked in the G-Spot! Jean covers.. 1..2..3!!! It's over! New Champions!!
MA: And here are your NEWWWWWWWW "You Gotta Have Friends" Champions.... PAIN AND PLEASURE!!
MM: I don't believe it! The Three Guys just scored three titles in three seconds! What a match! (The guys at ringside hold up their "*" signs. Well, four hold up "*"'s, the last guy holds up a "0.25" sign... but the presence of Eddie B. was always going to drag the rating down slightly... but ****1/4 aint bad, folks!)
MM: VP joins P and P in the ring as all three collect their titles!! Oh, baby they'll be celebrating tonight!! You know, after a match of that magnitude, there's only one place this show can go!
SW: Straight down to the bargin basement! Bring on the midgets!!
MA: This comedy match is scheduled for on fall and has more stipulations that I care to read... Introducing first, weighing not a hell of a lot, and accompanied by The Pardy Boyz... THE LI'LBOSS!
("Short Shorts" plays as The Li'LBOSS walks out to where the Mini-Cell is lowering in a semi-ominous way. Plenty o' boos for the managerial type. Roman candles attached to the corners of the cage go off, impressing everyone under the age of 10.. or anyone with the IQ of a cheese sandwich. To BOB N.J we go.)
GBH: Ooh. Pretty. Hee. Me wear short shots... dum dum dum dum dum dum...
(We return to see the Li'lBOSS attempting to climb the outside of the cage... either he's more hardcore than we thought, or he's trying to escape...)
MA: And his opponent, from either Mexico or Texas.. or possibly Harvard... LI'L PEPPY POLLLLARRRRR!
("The Mexican Hat Dance" (Eddie B's "180 BPM Drum 'N Noize" Mix) plays as Peppy arrives to as good a reception as a midget can expect after the Dink fiasco of the late '90s... Damn you, Steve Kiern! He bradishes a tiny chair and climbs up after the Li'LBOSS.)
SW: They're going to the top! This is a potentially career-ending move! Look at them!! WOO-HOO!
MM: Oh, sure... they've got to be almost seven feet up in the air! There's guys on the roster that are taller than that!
NH: Oh, let him have his fun, Mike...
MM: Fine, fine... you do the play-by-play, Scotty... I'm going to the concession stand!
SW: YEAH! A Li'lChair shot on top of the cage! Peppy winds up again... nailed Melvin again! Peppy drops the chair and picks up the Li'lBOSS... Li'lScoop slam on the mesh!! Kicks him while he's down!
NH: What was that?
My Product Placement Alarm... (Takes a sip of "Snapple Your Neck"(R) and gives a thumbs-up to the camera.)Mmmmmmmm... delish! Peppy continues his unrelenting assault on the Li'lBOSS! He's dragging him to the edge of the cage... Wayne and Garth are trying to use Waynes shirt as an improvised saftey net to save the Li'lBOSS'es Li'lButt! Peppy winds up... Big Li'lRight Hand! Another! Melvin teeters... a third right hand.. AND THERE HE GOES!
NH: The Pardys try to catch him....
SW: WHOA!! He bounced right out and went through the timekeepers table!!
Garth: Dude! Are you wearing lycra? No way!!
SW: The Li'lBOSS has been wiped out!! Peppy's not done yet... He poses... LI'LSUICIDE PLACHA OFF THE TOP! They're both out!!
NH: I'd better check on them... (stands up, getting a major pop when the fans see how short her nurses uniform is tonight)... Let me through, trained medical professional coming through!
SW: Heidi helps Peppy out of the wreckage... he looks okay! She's going to check on the Li'lBOSS... HEY! The Pardys just jumped Peppy! Two-on-one! And I'm doing play-by-play, which means I have to support the face! Nuts! *ahem*.. THAT AINT RIGHT! What a despicable act!!! They drag Peppy to the cage door and slam it on his head! And again! They roll him into the ring and it looks like he's completely out! The Li'lBOSS crawls into the ring with plenty of help from Wayne... Melvins gonna steal this one! One.. two.. KICKOUT! Give the li'l guy a li'l credit here! He's tough!
MM: I'm back! Anyone want a taco?
SW: No thanks... Hey, Li'l Peppy just jumped out of the cage and is comimg this way!
NH: I guess he wants a taco, Mike!
SW: This inadvertant distraction could cost him big-time! Melvin is getting a chance to recover! Peppy finishes his inter-meal snack and heads back to the ring...
NH: And walks into a li'lgourd-buster! A cover.. Peppy kicks out at one! The Li'lBOSS putting the loafers to Peppy!
SW: Cue the run-in! Billy Polars on his way the ring! Garth quickly moves to lock the cage! Smart move for a change!
MM: Billy charges Wayne... Rolling thunder clothesline! Garth goes after Polar... gets a spear for his trouble! Billy makes it to the cage but he can't get it to help! Wait, what the heck has he brought with him?
SW: A tranquiliser gun! And he scores a direct hit on the Li'lBOSS'es Li'lPosterior! Peppy slaps on a sleeper at the same time to fool the referee...
NH: Like that's hard... Melvins knees are quickly starting to buckle... Generic Ref checks the arm.. it drops once.. twice... three times!
SW: Nighty-night, Li'lBoss... enjoy your nap!
MA: Here is your winner... LI'L PEPPY POLARRRRRRRR! And as a result of this match... your new Commisioner of the Brawlers On a Budget... BILLY POLAR!!
MM: We have a new Commish! What ramifications will this have for BOB?
NH: Beats the hell out of me! Guess you'd better tune in to Mayhem to find out!
SW: Nice plug, babe!
MA: This next contest determines the number one contender for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS! Introducing first, from Harvard, Dammit...the new BOB Commissioner and "The Great White Luchador"....BILLY POLAR!
(Billy enters to "Hail To the Redskins, Hail To The Chief"...the touchdown theme song of The Washington Redskins igniting a round of boos from the pro Buccaneer crowd. Billy enters wearing a "King Harley Race" get-up, or King Jerry Lawler get-up...or King Haku get-up...or King Duggan get-up, or King Junkyard Dog get-up..whichever you think looked best in crown and robe. He enters the ring and prances around like he just won the lottery.
MA: One of his opponents, from Charleston, West Virgina. One eye and one ton...BOHEMOTH!
(The Greig song played briefly, before Eddie swapped to something a little higher tempo...like "BABY GOT BACK" from Sir Mixalot. The opening line "I like... big butts... and I cannot lie" generates some major face pop for the fat miner.)
MA: And their opponent, from Bumbledink, Texas...the one, the *ahem* only...bald headed Texan with an inescapable finisher...the Thirstiest S.O.B. in all the land, LUUUUUKE WAAAAARM!
(Stuff Breaking, the extended "Really Tearing Some Sh*t Up Mix" plays. Luke sprints to the ring to the queen mother of all crowd pops and slides under the ropes. He walks right up to Polar, who raises a hand and gives him the Dikembe Mutumbo finger wag)
BP: Oh no. I, Billy Polar, being the commissioner of this here backwater fed, have added a special stipulation to this match.
MM: What's he doing now?
SW: Shut up, Mike. The commissioner is speaking.
BP: I, still Billy Polar, being of sound body and genius mind, or something...am making this a "Pin Billy Polar And You Lose Match"! Pin me and you LOSE! Hence the catchy name of the contest. HA! And there's nothing you can do about it, 'cause I'M BILLY POLAR, DAMMIT! And I, still looking and acting a lot like Billy Polar, am also the commissioner, so what you gonna do? Nothing. I just said that earlier.
MM: WHAT?! He can't do that!
SW: Sure he can! He can do whatever he wants...he's The Commish!
NH: *pfft* I just thought about that pudgy police guy. Oh, nevermind.
MM: There's the bell. Luke is irate! He grabs Bohemoth who was just standing there minding his own business! STONECUTTER! Luke bow-legged swaggers over to Billy like only HE can, foot to the gut...STONECUTTER! Generic Ref gets in the way, he's begging off...
GR: Hold on...I gotta count.
Luke: Oh yeah, I forgot. You know, I'm trying to look all deranged and stuff.
NH: Masked Announcer's still in the ring, trying to get through the ropes. Luke grabs a handful of trousers and pulls him back in....STONECUTTER! His masked popped off! Who is it? WHO IS IT?!
SW: Is it the seedy butler? How about Col. Mustard? Damn, I never win those games...
MM: Luke is on a rampage, he's leaving the ring! Meanwhile, a dazed Bohemoth sees an unconscious Billy Polar laying flat on his back and does what comes naturally...
SW: What's that? Look for his wallet?
MM: No, dummy...HE'S PINNING HIM!
NH: But that just cost Bo the match...according to Commissioner Polar's dumb rules!
MM: And Luke's sure to be disqualified for bumping the ref!
SW: Uh-rah, he didn't do that yet, Mike. HEY LUKE, GENERIC REF NEEDS SOME BUMPIN'!
MM: Luke's back in the ring! He has the Generic Ref...STONECUTTER! STONECUTTER! STONECUTTER! Mush to the delight of the fans I might add...
NH: Mush? Have you been drinking?
MM: Well, it was a long intermission. Let's get the official word from Masked Announcer, well...I don't think he can talk right now. Maybe we can sort this out at Mayhem or NAGAM. Anyway, how about those main events to come? Should be good ones!
NH: Good Lord, we have TWO MORE to sit through? Please tell me you're kidding, Mike.
SW: And everytime time he says it 'should be a good one'..they turn out to be an horrific screw job. YEAH, BABY! Another one coming up! WHOO HOO!
MM: Right-o! Let's go to a commercial until Masked Announcer finds his wits and his cover. Nobody saw who he was, did they? No? Nobody? I'm still betting it's Jimmy Hoffa. We'll be right back...
FANS! It's Footbrawl-Stupor Bowl I only on PPV...THE ENCORE PRESENTATION! Ummmmmm, nevermind.
MM: Okay, let's go to The Masked Announcer for the official word.
Masked Announcer Duh. Yur. (falls over)
SW: Oh great...now we have TWO GBHs!
(Cut to BOB NJ)
(Back to Tampa, where Mike, Scotty and Nurse Heidi sit flabbergasted)
MA: My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen... are you ready for some FOOTBRAWL?!!
MM: WOW! What a turn-a-round for M.A.! He's good as new!
NH: I think this match was writt...ummmm, scrip....hmpf, done before the other one in the "keyboard area". Poo, I just can't win no matter how I put it.
MA: I said...ARE YOU REEEEEEEEEA-DY?!
Drunken Hillbilly In the Fourth Row: YEE-HAWW!! (Holds up "Herb Romaine Rules!" sign.. well actually, it's a "heb romane rools" sign... but the thought was there.)
MA: Well I'm glad someone's up for this match! I would like to inform you that there have been some subsitutions to the line-ups... And so... here come the teams!
(A crane shot shows Claude "Lightning Fingers" Leroux and Head Trauma Boy Coma running onto the field. From the opposite side comes Head Trauma Boy Flatline, Herb Romaine and the special Surprise Entrant, Captain Whacked!)
SW: What the hell? Where's the rest of their teams?
NH: Umm let's see... Steve Studnuts is in Colorado at a TV taping for the "IEW".. whatever that is... "Soft Core" Zack was last seen heading for the Canadian Border with U.S Marshalls in hot pursuit. DJ Rawkus and M.C Carjack were detained after an incident at a local nightclub and are being held until the BOSS can find $1500 to bail them out...
MM: Better scratch those two off the roster, then...
NH: ... The Man Who Looks Like Nixon is still recovering from his match with Bobo Fiendish in the "OWTTM" Tourney...
SW: Did Bobo really make him look like JFK after that match?
(Cut to a Kevin Costner lookalike in front of a movie screen that is replaying Bobo's "Farewell To The Flesh" in slow-mo.)
Costner-Clone: Back.. and to the left. Back.. and to the left...
(Back to ringside.)
NH: ... Homicidal Hank and Blackjack Hooligan headed out for a few beers at "The Lecherous Leprachaun" in Boston last week and are missing, presumed drunk. The Dsylexic Avenger misread his contract and flew to Mt. Alf, Pa instead of Tampa,Fl...
SW: Aw nuts! I heard he was going to make a nur-ni in the Main event..
NH: Insano Mano and Kamikazie Ken participated in the "King Of The Exploding, Electrified, Flaming Tables" Tournament in Suicida, Mexico and are both on the disabled list... and XXXtreme Machine said he "wsnt plying inthiz fagots footb al match... coz im 2 damn sexi u dig"
Captain Whacked: Hey! Where the hell is Studnuts? I came to BOB specifically to kick his ass and he doesn't even show up??!! What's with that? If he doesn't get his ass here RIGHT NOW.. I'll.. I'll...
MA: Cut off your own arms and legs with a chainsaw?
CW: .. Umm.. yeah... something like that...
(Captain Whacked stomps off the field. Coma is sighted, wearing a hockey mask, a baseball catchers vest and carrying a lacrosse stick. Claude Leroux is attempting to shear one of Herb's Flock in some strange type of pysch-out. Herb retaliates by beaning Claude with a week-old tofuburger. Flatline is "putting the moves" on a disgusted cheerleader. Cut to
the BigBOSS. Li'l Snores can be heard from off-screen)
BB: Where did I go wrong? Oh, the hell with it... just cancel the match and let's move on, shall we?
Overhead Announcement: Sorry about this folks.. it appears there will be no "Footbrawl".. thus negating the entire theme of this Pay-Per-View...
MA: All-righty then... this contest is our MAIN EVENT! And it is for the "ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS!"... title. It will be contested under the rules of a "Spelling Bee Match With Stinky Footwear!" If anyone knows the rules for a "Spelling Bee Match With Stinky Footwear!" match, now's the time to say!
MM: Beats me...
SW: No idea!
NH: Don't look at me, guys...
GBH: Duh. Whut?
Dennis: Haven't got the foggiest, old bean!
(The Music Booth)
Eddie B: Yo, you askin' ME? Shiiiiiiiiiiiit.
(The Locker Room.)
Every BOB Wrestler Present: WE DON'T KNOW!!
(Back to ringside.)
MA: Super. Introducing first, from Seattle, Washington... he's the New, "AYOOYFM" Hardcore Champion... THE VIOLENT PACIFIST!!
("Closer" (Scritchy-Scratchy F-BLEEP-K Ya Like An Animal At 160bpm Dance Mix) plays as the motorised MiniRing drives VP down to the ring. Both VP and Candy's Ultra-Mini Skirt get a nice pop.)
MA: Secondly... he's a entire stable in one man... J.C, DA SASSY LONG BITCH!!
(In a moment of abject confusion, Eddie B. cues up "She Bangs" by Ricky Martin. We get a brief shot of The Kent State Krew looking outraged, before we see Da Sassy Bitch travel to ringside in near-total silence.)
MA: Thirdly... Hailing from Camelot... He's the current Swiss Army Champion... SIR RONALD "THE MISERABLE GIT" KILLALOT!
("Bagpipes Make My Balls Itch" by HamishMcDoodle And The KickingKelticKaosKrew plays as The Arthurian and his Medieval Posse make their entrance. And yes, that's a real song title... Don't believe me? Go to MP3.coms' Celtic section and tell me I'm lying!!)
MA: And finally... the current and reigning ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS!... DOOOUUUJJJAAAA!
("How High" heralds the arrival of the champ, who's Duke sweatshirt ensures the heel pop of the night. He looks almost focused as he enters the ring... a quick hit of his ever-present blunt fixes that...)
MA: And here to read the stipulations for this match... direct by satellite from Hollywood...DAVID ARQUETTE!!
(Sure enough, the minor-celebrity and former WCW Champ appears on the Wow-That's-Big-Tron. He reads the stipulations, but is drowned out by the booing of the crowd.)
NH: Oh, now we'll never know what the stips are!
MM: Oh well, I'm sure we'll work it out as we go along!The Flunky has finished surrounding the ring with some extremely pungent footwear... and it looks like douja will start this thing off along with The Violent Pacifist!
(Sade's biggest hit begins to play)
MM: NO WAY!
Wayne in the dressing room: HEY! Quit stealing my lines!
NH: I thought he was dead...
MM: Who? Wayne?
(Sure enough, the music didn't lie. Dr. Silaconne M. Plants,The Smooth Operator and quite possibly the biggest sticker for correct spelling in the history of professional wrestling in any forum (especially according to Neige Thirteen)enters from the back. In a attempt to look cool, he skips the motorized cart ride and casually strolls down the aisle. A brief "Physician's Eyebrow" later...he enters the ring and snatches the mic from The Masked Announcer. Then fakes a backhand at the hooded introduction man...)
SMP: FINALLY...THE DOC....HAS COME BACK...where are we?
MA: Tampa, Sil. We're in Tampa.
SMP: Like it matters. First of all, not being invited to the ONLY WORLD TITLE TOURNAMENT THAT MATTERS was bad enough..but how in the HELL could you have a spelling match and not asked me to be a part of it? I'm a TWO-TIME Intergalactic Champion for God's sake! So, I was in the back, sipping some mocha,and I decided to come out here since nobody knows the rules to this thing and appoint myself "Special Mediator"! Besides, BigBOSS owes me one for jobbing me to douja...
douja: Hey, motha f*cka! I beat yo ass fair an' square!
SMP: Sure you did, meatball. That's almost as believable as Billy Polar being commissioner.
SW: HE IS COMMISSIONER!
SMP: Riiiight. And I'm Britney Friggin' Spears. And what's with these stanky ass shoes? Who BOOKS this shit?
(Cut to BOB NJ. GBH is seen barefoot...on his feet are so many corns a tiny scarecrow is planted between his toes. Not to mention a carbuncle the size of a turnip. Back to Tampa)
SMP: I'm calling the shots now. So, douja...spell "CAT".
douja: Dats easy! C-A-T!
SMP: WRONG! I was, of course...referring The Kat, Jerry Lawler's squeeze. Go smell a shoe, peanut.
MM: This is insane! SMP has taken over! For his own evil, personal agenda!
SMP: Who are YOU?
DSB: Da Sassy Bitch...
SMP: YOU'RE in a main event? Man, this place really needed me to come back! Spell "WITCH", uhhh, Bitch.
DSB: Child's play! W-I-T-C-H! HA HA!
SMP: WRONG! I was, of course...referring to WHICH one of those shoes you're gonna be sniffing. Enjoy some SOLE FOOD, Grassy Snatch.
DSB: NO WAY! It says right there, right after you said you needed to come back. Spell "WITCH."
SMP: You're questioning ME? I held the IG title TWICE! I beat Luke Warm for the North American Title! Get to sniffing of get to stepping!
SW: This is awesome! Look at douja, he looks like he's gonna hurl!
NH: This is terrible, Sil is way out of control.
SMP: Okay, Veep. Spell "READ".
Violent Pacifist: Ummm. The color? Or like I "read" a book?
SMP: I'M ASKING THE QUESTIONS HERE! Nestle your nose in those Nikes. Aspirate some ADIDAS. Inhale some Airwalks...munch on that Thom McCan! Okay, now...who are you?
SRK: Sir Ronald Killalot. Remember...I'm European. Please don't ask anything like flavour, colour, or American slang.
SMP: I'm European, too! I'm from Italy, you've heard of me, right?
SRK: No. I mean...yeah. (looks around nervously, but senses a connection)
SMP: Spell my FIRST Name. Since everybody from the Right Hand Man, DK, and BigBOSS ALL use two friggin' "L's"...
SMP: HEY! You got it! You win!
douja: WHAT?! MOTHA F*CKA... DATS BULLSH*T!
MM: Look at douja hit the ring..he just slammed a forearm between the shoulder blades of the Sinister Surgeon as he tried to walk away! Sassy Bitch and VP also in the ring! Has anybody seen J.C. Long?
NH: Maybe he's Masked Announcer?
SW: And look at Killalot leave the ring with THE ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS without so much a scratch or having to sniff a shoe!
MM: What a farce! What a screw job of a main event!
SW: And douja's pissed! He's all over The Doc!
MA: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THE WINNER...AND NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW.... ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS...SIR RONALD KILLALOT!
MM: What a nightmare of a PPV!
NH: That's what you get when you replace quality for deadlines.
MM: A travesty of a main event! No way this is BOB's greatest PPV ever!
NH: Well it is, if you consider "great" sorry and boring...which are the staple of BOB events.
MM: SMP with a knife-edge chop to douja, douja fires back with a roundhouse right! Sassy Bitch with a running double clothesline that drops both of 'em! VP just nailed Sassy as he tried to stand back up...
VP: Dammit to hell! I was screwed..and somebody's gonna pay for it!
SW: Violent Pacifist setting Sassy up for the Nine Inch Nailer! douja with the Chronic Neck Pain on SMP! The "Dirtiest Booby Enhancer In Wrestling Today" bounces off the mat and rolls out of the ring..he landed face first on GBH's shoe! He might be dead after all! Sassy Bitch and Violent Pacifist trading punches! Sassy pushed VP off the turnbuckle! This thing has broken down!
NH: The Li'lBOSS is sure to get fired for this!
MM: Wait a minute...douja is rubbing Plants' face into GBH's shoe! Sassy Bitch just nailed VP with a stinky steel toe boot!
Generic Ref: Ahhh, what the hell?
MA: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THE NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW..."AYOOYFM" HARDCORE CHAMPION! DA SASSY BITCH!
MM: Sir Ronald Killalot has taken that oversized title and headed for the exits...fans are flooding the field! What the hell is going on here?! VP wins..then loses the AYOOYFM Hardcore Title on the same card! He didn't even have it a full night!
NH: Well, with the intermission and all...he did enjoy a good month almost as champion.
MM: That's irrelevant...
SW: Quit trying to sound smart, Mike. douja is shredding SMP to bits! There goes his black slacks, AND his physician's overcoat! SMP's trying to run but douja has him by the shirt...it looks like he's running in place!
MM: Fist to the back of the head sends a half stripped Plant rolling along the south endzone, the fans are rioting! Down come the goalposts!
NH: Well, that WAS a pretty bad screwjob.
SW: *ahem* (mumbling) Card subject to change...
MM: GOOD CATCH, SCOTTY! Hey, looks like the douja/SMP feud is hotter than ever! They're still going at it! Cheerleaders running, gatorade spilling...SMP just threw at football at douja, trying to stop the advancing madman! douja with a nice open field tackle sends 'em over the bench! douja firing rapid rights into Plants' face, the Doc trying to cover up as they roll around the sidelines. VP and Sassy Bitch now trading punches again, VP just realized what happened to him and he's torqued!
SW: Violent P. is trying to wrestle that Hardcore Title away from The Sassy Bitch...Bitch ain't letting go! Right hand by VP loosens Sassy's grip...PACIFIST HAS IT! Look at him go! VP hitting the skids and running for the exit...Sassy Bitch in hot pursuit as he heads for the tunnel!
NH: That sounded bad, considering he's gay and all...
Sassy Bitch (running after VP and looking back) I'M NOT GAY!
MM: Both VP and DSB in the tunnel and out of sight. SMP and douja and douja are in the concession stand area! There goes the Dyslexic Avenger's "Some Get Come" Shirts!
NH: He really needs to switch THAT around!
MM: Another open hand chop by Plants, douja with a right hand samsh catches Silaconne on the jaw, SMP counters with a wild right to douja's ear...douja returns a right of his own! Plants with a chop! douja with a overhead right! DAMMIT...WE'RE OUTTA TIME!
SW: Finally! You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that, Mike!
MM: For Scotty Whatbody and Nurse Heidi...I'm Mike Monroe, don't let this outcome encourage you not to buy further BOB PPV'S! GOOD NIGHT FROM FOOTBRAWL!
(somewhere, Gordon Solie turns in his grave)
© 2001 BOB Wrestling! It's a full-sized serving of Crap with extra Crap on the side and a Crap dressing!