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Stupid Bowl I

Stupid Bowl I Logo

So much hype, we couldn't fit it all in at once!

[We are not live from the inside of a tent at the Field Of Broken Dreams in Why, Arizona. Why? Get ready to ask yourself a lot this morning. We open with a shot from the Not As Good-A-Year Blimp, which is circling about 20 feet above the tent. We see a few dinged up cars parked around the outside, and the top of a tent.]

MS: Oh, what a MAGNIFICENT VIEW from the Not As Good-A-Year Blimp. This really just adds such DIMENSIONS to this special BOB PRESENTATION!

Styles: Will you can it? Hello everyone and welcome to Brawlers On a Buuuuuuuudget Wrrrrrrrrrrestling! I'm Mikey Styles....

SW: And we are in the lamest broadcast booth ever. Can we get a shot of us?

[The scene cuts inside. We see Scotty, Styles and Shill standing on something really funny!]

SW: What the?

[I know you can't see me, but I'm flipping you all off. Come up with your own ideas.]

Styles: Here we go again. Detached Narrator is already causing trouble. Well fans, as you can see, we're here on this, um, funny broadcast booth that is no doubt causing you to laugh a lot.

MS: Fans as we take a shot of the ring, you'll notice that hanging precariously above the ring is a prize for which all the BOBsters will risk life and limb for.

SW: And necrophilia too!

Styles: Must you always bring that up?

SW: Hey, I'm not the guy who signed Festering Death.

[Jell-O?]

SW: Ahhh!

Styles: OH MY GOD! Scotty Whatbody is drowning in Jell-O! OH MY GOD! And I'm sinking too! Detached Narrator! Get us out of here?

[What would you prefer?]

MS: THIS IS THE BLACKEST *gurglegurgle*

Styles: OH MY GOD! Tony! I mean, MARK!

[I'm a heel Styles. If I gotta kill a couple of announcers to get some cheap heat, I will.]

Styles: Let's go to BigBOSS to explain what the hell this show is all a*gurglegurgle*

[Drats! The scene cuts to BigBOSS. Who is wearing a white cowboy suit, including a 10 gallon hat. And a monacle in his right eye. BWAHAHAHA. Look at you, you freak!]

BigBOSS: You are fired!

[BigBOSS reverses his decision.]

BigB: Never mind. HEY! I didn't say that!

[Detached Narrator OWNS YOU!]

BigB: *Sigh*. Well fans, welcome to BOB's Stupid Bowl I! Hanging above the ring is a signed football by (BigBOSS puts a hand over his mouth and speaks the name of the football player which we will edit in later so it matches the star of one of the NFL SuperBowl teams. He then takes his hand down. After slapping himself! YES!). STOP THAT!

[Screw you! You booked me to lose my Calorifically Challenged Title. Now you will pay. Oh yes, you're gonna pay in the ULTIMATE WAY. Which I will determine when I think of it.]

BigB: Anyhow...the signed football hanging above the ring is far more valuable then the yearly salary anybody makes here in BOB. So for those who love football, the winner will receive a great piece of memorabilia. And if not, you can pawn it and make money to pay off those bills.

BigB: And as an added bonus, everybody in Stupid Bowl I must defend their titles. If a title-holder is pinned or submits, he or she loses his title. ALL THE TITLES ARE ON THE LINE! And for you wrestling fans, well, what are you doing watching BOB?

[Rim shot.]

BigB: Well, this should be the most extreme, hardcore, death-defying event in the history of wrestling and/or sports entertainment. Now, the only question, is who would be dumb enough to be team captains...

[The doors crash open. It's Insano Mano and Kamikazie Ken.]

BigB: Oh look, it's two of those guys who stepped out of my piece of hell into another dimension of hell. What can I do for you?

Kamikazie Ken: I call captain!

Insano Mano: ¡Insano Mano desea ser un capitán del equipo y conseguir estúpido.

BigBOSS: Did you just call me stupid?

IM: No tengo ninguna idea qué estoy diciendo. Y nadie hace cualquiera. Cortesía española quebrada de los pescados de Babel. Consiguió amarla.

BigB: Well, I guess you can be a captain since you're here too. Alright. Now we need a draft!

[BigBOSS reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a mug full of beer.]

BigB: Ah, much better. OK. You guys should go pick some teams or something.


=<>: HEY, DEATH.

Death: Word.

=<>: REMEMBER US? IT'S SPACEDUCK AND SPACECOP.

=C]: YEAH, WE DIED ONCE.

Death: I... think so... do I know you?

=<>: SURE YOU DO. REMEMBER THE TIME THAT WE GOT SATAN TO ASK YOU TO KILL VEDIC AND TAKE HIM TO HELL SO WE COULD RAPE HIM CONSTANTLY.

=C]: YEAH, AND THEN WE ALL GOT DRUNK WITH JOHN WAYNE GACY FOR TWO HOURS AND STARTED RANTING ABOUT HOW IT WOULD BE WONDERFUL IF NECROPHILIA WAS LEGAL.

Death: Oh, you guys.

=<>: YES! SOMEONE REMEMBERS US. QUICK, DEATH, WE SHOULD GO OUT AND KILL SOME PEOPLE.

=C]: YES, AND THEN I CAN RAPE THEIR CORPSES.

Death: Er, um... you know, you guys are worse than I am. You know that, right?

Styles: Well fans, we are back and somehow survived the near death experience with the Jell-O.

Death: Say what?

Styles: Nothing Death.

SW: Yeah, that was a bad pay-per-view, wasn't it?

Styles: What are you talking about?

SW: A Near Deth Experience.

Styles: (Frustrated) Anyway...the entire roster we could afford to pay for the show is out around the ring now. Kamikazie Ken and Insano Mano are the only people inside the ring. Apparently they will be the team captains for this

MS: GREATEST MATCH IN THE HISTORY OF WRESTLING! BEST, STUPID BOWL, EVER!

SW: Man, I could go for some Jell-O right about now if I have to stand next to him all night. And what the hell is this Detached Narrator? Why are we suddenly rocking back and forth?

[Oh right. Well, you've seen those Looney Toon cartoons, right?]

SW: Of course.

[Well, you're standing on a big teetering rock. So if anybody starts moving around too much, the rock might tip over and squish you all. MWAHAHAHAHA!]

MS: Isn't this a shocking development!

SW: More like a moronic development.

[Scotty's side suddenly begins tipping.]

SW: Umm. Moronic that we've never done this before!

[The rock becomes even again. And watch it Scotty. I hear everything you say. But I am suddenly interrupted by the playing of "Some Song" by That Group which brings out the BigBOSS, now dressed in a aqua blue evening gown. Everyone points and laughs at him. And I feel like such a big man. Heehee!]

BigBOSS: Fine. Dress aside, why don't you start picking your teams. How exciting. Now since the fans don't really boo and cheer anybody here, we need to figure out who will be the heels and faces for the rigged cointoss.

[Ken and BigBOSS smile at each other.]

BigB: Ken's team will be the faces.

[They high five.]

Insano Mano: Tengo repentinamente una mala sensación sobre este fósforo.

BigB: Did he just call us gay?

KK: Probably. He is a heel.

IM: *Suspiro.* Qué poopooheados.

KK: I shall call my team Ken'z Kamikaziez! Because Z's are just so cool.

BigB: OK. What shall be your team name?

IM: ¡Hmmm. Ahhh! Menos Insano!

BigB: BWAHAHA. OK. That's fine.

SW: Doesn't "Menos" mean "less"?

Styles: Yes it does!

SW: Thank God my script told me that.

Script: You're welcome.

BigB: Ken, pick first.

Nurse Heidi: Hey guys, sorry I'm late.

SW: Who's the lucky fella?

NH: Every time you have to use that line. It wasn't exactly easy getting up on this rock you know.

=<>: PICK ME, OR SPACECOP WILL FUCKING KILL YOU AND RAPE YOUR FUCKING CORPSE, AND I'LL MAKE FUNNY WISECRACKS ABOUT YOUR PENIS.

=C]: WHAT SPACEDUCK SAID.

KK: Ummm.....

[10 minutes, 14 rounds of picks and hundreds of death threats later....]

BigB: And we have teams. Representing Team Face: Ken'z Kamikazies will be Sarah "The Jobber Slayer," Kay Fabe, Pope John Paul II, Xamfir, Little Good, Undietaker, Urine, Coma, Hardcore JJ, Jim, Brandon, Violent Pacifist, Sir Hungalot and Jean Bannister.

BigB: Representing Team Heel: Menos Insano will be RVD, Undietaker, Spacecop, Spaceduck, XXXtreme Machine, Mr. X, Sleazy-C, Death, BVD, Mr. Thursday Night JC Long, Dyslexic Avenger, Massive Man Rendition First (MMR1), Graphic Flatulence and Stinkbutt Nastyass.

=<>: ...WE'RE ON THE FUCKING CHINK'S SIDE?!

NH: Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to apologize for Spaceduck's obviously racis--

=<>: SHUT THE FUCK UP, WENCH, GET BACK TO YOUR ANNOUNCING BROTHEL AND GO GIVE WHATBODY A FUCKING LAPDANCE.

SW: Hey, you know, I'm starting to like Spacedu--

=C]: THEN WE'LL KILL YOU BOTH AND I'LL RAPE YOUR FUCKING CORPSES UNTIL THEY'RE NOTHING MORE THAN SPACESEMEN AND FLESH.

SW: Scratch that, then.

BigB: OK. This Boring Bumble rules match will begin with a ladder match. And end with it most likely. You can only be eliminated in your own gimmick match unless you challenge somebody else in theirs. Confused enough?

Everyone: Yes.

BigB: Good. Let's start. Right after this line which represents a commercial.


Styles: Welcome back everyone.

SW: And it's going to be Jean Bannister vs. Death to start. How long can we milk this angle for?

[Death glares at Scotty.]

SW: Umm. HE SAID IT!

MS: I most certainly did NOT!

[Scotty pulls Nurse Heidi in front of himself to shield himself from Death.

NH: HEY!

SW: Don't worry, he won't kill a pregnant woman.

Styles: OH MY GOD! Bannister and Death are dueling! Death with his scythe. Mr. Scythe! And Bannister with his hockey stick. Mr. Hockey Stick! There's a jab. A lunge.

NH: Is this fencing or wrestling?

SW: Neither really.

Styles: Bannister is undefeated against Death. Defeating him in March Mayhem 2002. And then in a re-match of sorts at SMC 2. I think in that Totally Face gauntlet match.

SW: Death with a sideslam! Death brings Bannister to the corner.

NH: Oh, the dreaded knee lift. And another one. And another one. And another one.

[30 seconds and 30 kneelifts later...]

SW: Nobody ever said he had a varied offense.

BigBOSS: As time is winding down in this first round, I'm here with the captains of both teams. Gentlemen. It's now time to have the coin toss to see who will get the advantage for their side. This side is heads. And this side is also heads. Heels! Call it!

Insano Mano: Ummm. ¿Colas?

BigB: Umm. Menos Insanos win! OK, then.

[BigBOSS runs away. "Insert Music Here" by That Group begins playing, bringing out BVD.]

BVD: Hey weak guy. That ain't my music weak guy. DOOOD. Play my music weak guy. HOOOOOOOO!

[Eddie B. looks for BVD's correct music.]

Eddie B: Crap. I only brought my That Group CD tonight. This can't be good. Well, at least it's their "Best Of" double CD.

[BVD walks to the ring carrying a Japanese flag and his 10 Peso Version title and Pipsa© Special championship belts. He walks around the ring, waving the flag and holding up his foam rubber 4x2.]

Styles: Where is the Masked Announcer?

[I dunno.]

Styles: I was asking Scotty, Heidi and Shill. Why did you answer so quick?

[No reason. He's not locked in any car trunks outside of his hotel. No siree.]

...

...

...

NH: *Ahem* I guess we have now added a Flag On A Pole Match to the Stupid Bowl. So, apparently, everyone has been assigned or chosen a gimmick match to include in this Boring Bumble?

MS: EVERY GIMMICK MATCH ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH! ALL IN ONE MATCH! You'll only get action THIS AWESOME in BOB!

Styles: Death and BVD are continuing to battle in the corner as Death varies up his offense with several elbows to the side of Bannister's head.

BVD: (Chanting) J-A-P-A-N! J-A-P-A-N!

[The small crowd of about 50 boos.]

Styles: Oh my GOD! BVD is going for the flag! And he's got it!

NH: So does that mean he wins?

SW: Did anyone ever GET a flag match?

Styles: Maybe it just means he can hit people with it now?

SW: I hope it does. Because he's hitting Bannister AND Death! What a moron.

Death: Idiot, we're on the same team!

BVD: Doood. Whatever. HOOOOOO!

MS: Touch of Death!

NH: And Death tosses BVD's corpse to the floor. So much for teamwork. And we're back down to Bannister and Death.

SW: But he gets to keep both his titles since he can't be beaten by his own partner. Ahh, let the title screwjobs begin...

[Suddenly "That Track" by That Group begins blaring.]

MS: THAT MUSIC COULD MEAN ONLY ONE THING!

SW: That Eddie B. only remembered to bring his double-CD That Group "Best-Of" CD?

NH: Um. Didn't we already use that joke, like, two minutes ago?

SW: Oh, right. Sorry. My pages got stuck together. Heidi, have you been having wet dreams on my script again?

Styles: The Undietaker is here. And apparently we are going to add in a new gimmick match to this ultimate Gimmickmatchapalooza.

SW: Thank God we went with Stupid Bowl. I'd hate to be saying Gimmickmatchapalooza all day.

[Not as much as I'd hate typing it.]

NH: Or Mediocre Dish.

SW: Yeah, only a complete moron would come up with a title like that!

[The scene cuts to an apartment in Massachusetts.]

GOD: SHUT UP! I HATE YOU! I HATE ALL OF YOU!

[There is a knocking on his door.]

Lawyer Representing David Letterman: Hello. Let me in so I can sue you for stealing material.

GOD: Sure, I'll let you in. IN MY PANTS!

[Back to Stupid Bowl.]

Styles: Speaking of pants, we've got ourselves an Underwear Drawer Match.

SW: Heidi should explain this one, since I love hearing Heidi talk about her drawers.

NH: Ugh. The rule is simple. Undietaker has to put his opponent into that drawer and cover him in undies to eliminate him from the match.

Styles: Undietaker and Bannister are double teaming on Death. The crowd loves it.

Death: Stop cheering or I'll KILL YOU ALL!

[Silence.]

=C]: AND I'LL RAPE YOUR CORPSE!

[More silence.]

Death: Wow. Tough crowd.

[Death produces a microphone from out his cloak.]

Styles: OH MY GOD! Bannister and Undietaker and beating the crap out of Death, who is now about to do stand-up?

SW: He's taking no-selling to new heights.

MS: WE'RE INNOVATIVE!

Death: When Beethoven passed away, he was buried in a churchyard. A couple of days later, the town drunk was walking through the cemetery and heard some strange noise coming from the area where Beethoven was buried. Terrified, the drunk ran and got the priest to come and listen to it. The priest bent close to the grave and heard some faint, unrecognizable music coming from the grave.

Death: Frightened, the priest ran and got the town magistrate. When the magistrate arrived, he bent his ear to the grave, listened for a moment, and said, "Ah, yes, that's Beethoven's Ninth Symphony, being played backwards."

Death: He listened a while longer, and said, "There's the Eighth Symphony, and it's backwards, too. Most puzzling." So the magistrate kept listening, "There's the Seventh... the Sixth... the Fifth..." Suddenly the realization of what was happening dawned on the magistrate. He stood up and announced to the crowd that had gathered in the cemetery, "My fellow citizens, there's nothing to worry about. It's just Beethoven decomposing."

=<>: LAUGH YOU FUCKERS!

[The crowd broke out into hysterical laughter.]

=C]: LET ME TRY ONE! ALRIGHT. FUCK YOU ALL!

=<>: BWAHAHAHAHA!

=C]: What's bald, has big clacking teeth, and wobbles? (Dramatic pause.) A zombie baby wearing the dentures of an elderly woman whose brains it just ate.

Death: BWAHAHAHAHA.

=<>: GIVE ME THE MIC! ALRIGHT. MY TURN. What's 18 inches long, red, yellow and makes women scream. (Dramat--) FUCK YOU, NO TIME FOR DRAMA! A zombie baby chomping the head off the family parakeet.

Styles: Why are they out here now anyway? This makes no sense!

MS: This is the blackest day in the history of the modern era of professional sports entertainment!

["Forgotten Song" by That Group plays.]

NH: Oh no! You know what that means?

SW: What? That Eddie B.

EVERYONE: SHUT UP!

NH: No. It's time for a Kill You Match! Spaceduck is in. The 2 on 2 continues.

Styles: Wait a minute, this isn't fair. Both of them are attacking Bannister and Undietaker! That's two heels in a row!

[Flunky holds up a Boo sign. The crowd boos. Flunky scratches his chin and then starts writing on the back of the boo sign. He holds it up: Throw Me Money! Somebody throws a bottle of jelly at his head.]

SW: And now, a Rape Your Damn Corpse After the Kill You Match. Here is Spacecop! Necrophilia time.

NH: This is getting confusing, even for BOB.

SW: My brain is melting.

NH: Oh no! Spaceduck just killed Undietaker!

Styles: OH MY GOD! Undietaker has been thrown in the underwear drawer!

SW: And now Spacecop is raping his damn corpse! Oh man, Undietaker has been ELIMINATED!

Styles: Go to a break. PLEASE!

[Spaceduck and Spacecop wander off. Wondering the question, what's green, blue, red, and tastes funny? (A zombie baby eating a clown, of course.)]


Styles: And now, its time for an Iron Woman Match. Here is Sarah "The Jobber Slayer!" The Inordinate Champion.

SW: The hottest chick in BOB. Except for you, my dear.

NH: Please. Any chick is the hottest one for you.

SW: I'd still bang you, pregnant or not.

NH: I'M NOT PREGNANT!

Styles: Can we focus? Death and Bannister are continuing to fight. Bannister is wailing away on Death, who is adjusting a microphone stand mid-ring in preparation for his second set I guess.

Bannister: Hey Death, here's one for you? Whats 7-feet tall, bony and is about to fall victim to the Jean Bannister hat trick of jobbing?

Death: I hate punchline jokes.

Bannister: Death!

[The crowd laughs at Death's expense.]

MS: He ALMOST TOOK HIS HEAD OFF with that punch!

Styles: That was EXTREME! But Bannister is back up and the brawl is continuing. Bannister steals Death's microphone stand and bonks the big man on the head. Who continues to NO-SELL!.

SW: Who is Sarah calling?

NH: Is this sports entertainment? Making cell phone calls during a match?

STJS: Hey Angel. It's Sarah. Where are you? I miss hearing your playful jokes. You're so funny and cool. I can't wait to ravage you sometime soon. Call me! I miss you! I love you. Bye Angel.

SW: Why is she calling my home? I'm right here baby!

Styles: Angel? OH MY GOD! She means Adam Nowell!

NH: Hey, you can't mention him. He's from another promotion. I mean. Who?

SW: Yeah, who is he?

Styles: Alright, guys, the shows AIRED on our Web site! I mean, during our Sunday morning time slot.

SW: Ah, it appears as these two minutes are up that the BigBOSS is trying to cover up for booking flubs by sending out another face. I mean, uh…

NH: Another member of Ken'z Kamikaziez.

Styles: Nice cover up on the ANNOUNCER flub.

SW: Shut up you little nothing cousin of a nobody announcer.

["That Cool Song, You Know The One I Mean" by That Group hits and the fans go wild as the BOB ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS IS HERE. OOPS. DAMN THAT TITLE, NOW I'M STUCK IN CAPS LOCK.]

Styles: Its time for Beds. Stepladders. And Pillows!

NH: JJ is going right for the *ahem* plunder. He's pulling out a mattress from under the ring.

MS: A MATTRESS….of DOOM!

NH: And now he's pulling out the boxspring. This is about to get

Styles: EXTREME?

NH: Yeah, sure. Anyway. Oh, now he's pulling out pieces of a bed frame? Uh oh? Some assembly is required for this bed?

SW: HA! Look at JJ. He's scratching his head and looks all confused.

JJ: Hey you summabitch!

[Sarah looked out at JJ.]

STJS: Are you talking to me? Cuz last time I checked, I'm not a summa.

JJ: Quit flappin' yer gums and help me set up this bed so I can put somebody's ass through it.

Styles: Now we've got some team work going on. Sarah is going out to help JJ put the bed frame together.

NH: But she didn't go over the top rope, so she's not eliminated.

STJS: Aren't you a guy? Shouldn't you know all this hard, manly stuff?

JJ: I'm only 3! I may have a peepee but that don't mean I can put a bed together!

STJS: Geez, don't go all postal on me.

Styles: OH MY GOD! Look at Bannister! He just grabbed Death's scythe!

Death: Give that back or DIE!

JB: Come and get it!

SW: Death charges.

NH: Whoa!

MS: WHADDAMANUEVER!

Styles: OH MY GOD! Bannister just backdropped Death to the FLOOR! And he tosses Death's scythe down at him.

[A few fans familiar with the hat trick tradition in hockey start throwing hats at Bannister. Those fans are immediately ejected from the audience. Bannister scratches his nails on his chest and then blowing them in triumph.]

Bannister: 3-0! That hat trick is complete.

Styles: OH MY GOD! Bannister is alone in the ring.

MS: ALL ALONE! HE COULD HAVE IT!

SW: Yeah, Sarah and JJ are screwing the bed together.

NH: Scotty I'm shocked.

SW: Why?

NH: You just used the words Sarah, bed and screwing in the same sentence without--

SW: Oh, right, I hadn't flipped my page yet. And SPEAKING OF SCREWING SARAH IN A BED…boy would I like to!

NH: *Sigh* That was the lamest quip ever.

Styles: Bannister sets up the ladder. He's beginning to climb. Only a few feet separate him from winning the match and getting the prized football memorabilia. There is no way in hell Bannister CAN'T win this match.

[The following contest...is a CAGE MATCH!]

Bannister: A what?!

[A cage suddenly lowers down from the rafters.]

Bannister: D'oh.

SW: Bannister is starting to crawl faster.

[The cage starts to lower really…ah screw it, the cage is ALL THE WAY DOWN! Blocking the route to the football.]

Bannister: How is that possible? It just passed through the football?

[Yes, it did.]

SW: The cage is down. And Sleazy-C is in the cage.

[Did I say cage? I meant….HELL IN A CELL.]

Styles: Oh my GOD!

NH: Sleazy ignores Sarah and JJ, who are still busy finishing up the bed.

SW: I can think of something to do IN that bed when Sarah's done. If you're up for a little experimenting, Heidi.

NH: I've done enough experimenting in my life.

SW: ...

NH: I should learn to keep my mouth shut. And shut your mouth, you're drooling.

SW: I hope this mental image never goes away. Sarah, Heidi, a bed and a hairbrush.

MS: BANNISTER IS ON THE LADDER! WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN NEXT?

NH: Sleazy-C just grabbed the tool box! He's in the ring! Oh man, Bannister is hit in the butt with the toolbox! And Bannister falls off the ladder.

MS: FROM 30 FEET UP!

SW: He was only on the fourth rung! And now the big tool hits Bannister with the tool box.

Styles: Sleazy is trying to pick up Bannister and toss him over the top rope to the floor. But he's too weak! He can't get any more than Bannister's shoulders off the mat!

Sleazy-C: Muthaphucka!

NH: Uh oh. It looks like JJ and Sarah have the bed in place! JJ goes under the ring and gets a stepladder. They look at Sleazy.

Styles: Sarah's in the ring. Flying side kick! Sleazy-C is down and…hurt.

Sarah: I bet you're asking yourself, why did I come to Why? Why oh why did I come to Why. Well, you're about to find out why.

Sleazy-C: Bitch, shut the fuck up.

Sarah: (Censored).

SW: I guess the censors are on full alert now after the whole Festering Death calamity that happened earlier.

Sarah: Why did you censor me?

SW: They didn't. Our censorship team is just slow.

[We cut to a smoky, dingy closet.]

Styles: IT'S G.I. SLOW!

G.I. Slow: ...

...

...

[Back to the ring.]

Styles: Ohhhkay. I guess we hired him? Sleazy-C is set up on the bed on the floor outside the ring.

SW: Sleazy's getting up!

G.I. Slow (voice): Hi!

NH: You missed your chance Slow, just go back to watching out for dirty words.

MS: JJ HAS A PILLOW!

[PUFF.]

Crowd: (Moaning in disappointment) Awwwww.

Styles: Wow. The crowd must not have thought JJ put everything into that pillow shot. These hardcore fans are so fickle these days, you damn near have to take a guy's head off with a pillow to get any kind of reaction.

SW: Sleazy still went down. He's laid out on the table. Sarah's holding him in place…on…the bed…oh, what a lucky bastard that Sleazy-C is.

G.I. Slow (voice): OK!

SW: Who was that?

NH: G.I. Slow.

SW: What the hell?

Styles: Forget about that. JJ is on the apron. He climbs the stepladder! He looks around at the crowd.

SW: Which is just kinda staring at him in disbelief.

Styles: He dives!

CREAK!

Styles: OH MY GOD!

MS: HE JUST KILLED HIM! What an IMPACT! You know, people watching this are probably saying, well he knows how to fall. Well how can you teach somebody to FALL!

SW: We couldn't, that's why we have THIS lame gimmick match!

G.I. Slow: I'm an producer!

NH: Everyone is down now. And it looks like it's time for


Fans! It's only a couple of months away? Can you feel it? Can you sense it? I know I can. You won't want to miss, BOB's return to March Mayhem™! That's right, 64 men, 64 teams, but only [STIPULATION TO BE DETERMINED LATER]! It's time to pull on those jerseys of teams you've never heard of before from all those small schools and cheer them on to the NCAA national championship! And maybe even some jerseys of teams you have heard of. Whatever! Just pull on a jersey, dammit!

It appears Billy Polar will become a "Dookie" and jump on the Duke Blue Devil bandwagon just like douja did last year...as douja rode the number 1 seed to become the first ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS! Can Duke pull the repeat? The current OWCTM gets the top seed, and if Duke remains number-one until the end of the regular season, Polar will probably become a three-week supporter of the boys from Durham, N.C. Can Billy defy the odds and successfully defend his title against 63 other hopefuls? Or will Josh of the Kent State Krew get the number one seed with a win over Polar later tonight? Or will somebody else take Billy's strap before the seeds are drawn? Or will Duke totally choke and not go into the tournament ranked number 1 in the nation? Who will be the top four seeds? Will Heidi ever get that damned referee shirt ready? She has? Okay, cool. ORDER BOB'S MARCH MAYHEM®, then ORDER WRESTLESTARRMANIACADE! ONLY 26 WEEKS AWAY!


[BigBOSSes trailer.]

BigBOSS: Man, I need to find a new producer.

[Back to the ring.]

NH: Talk about badly timed commercial breaks.

SW: There is far too much recycling going on in BOB.

NH: But recycling is good for the environment. Surely it's good for BOB.

SW: Yeah. OK.

Styles: It's time for somebody else to come out and distract us. And here he comes. It's Violent Pacifist.

NH: In a blindfold.

MS: This is, without a shadow of a doubt, the greatest STUPID BOWL of ALL-TIME!

SW: Well, at least it's living up to its billing so far.

[Violent Pacifist wanders around and trips over the railing.]

VP: WhooooOOOOOAH.

Styles: That's gotta hurt.

NH: But wait. Sarah tosses Sleazy back inside and pins him. One. TWO. THREE!

MS: HE GOT HIM!

SW: He?

Sarah: He???

SW: You're a dead man Schiavone.

NH: Sarah's coming right for you Shill. You better run.

MS: Heaven's to Betsy. I'm in for a good old-fashioned butt kicking.

Styles: But, OH MY GOD. Sleazy-C isn't eliminated.

Sarah: What the?

Generic Ref: It's an Iron Man stipulation.

Sarah: That's so, unfair. So I can't eliminate anybody for?

Generic Ref: Oh, about 45 minutes maybe? I dunno. Till the show's over. Or the match. Whichever comes first.

MS: I owe you one, Styles.

SW: I owe you a beating, Styles. Shill was gonna get his ass kicked by your Slayer.

Styles: Sarah has had it with Sleazy-C. She pulls out a banana and leaves it for him.

Sarah: Come on Sleazy. Come on.

NH: Oh no. JJ is walking in the ring. Right for the banana peel!

SW: He's so short, you'd think he'd see it.

Sarah: JJ look out.

JJ: WHAAAAAAAT?

Crash!

NH: Bannister gets up.

Bannister: Hey SarAHHHHH!

SW: Another victim of the banana peel.

Styles: And he's still going. He slides on the peel all the way into Sleazy-C. OH MY GOD, they just collided. Bannister falls over the top rope. TOTAL ELIMINATION!

STJS: Oops. Sorry! My bad.

MS: He will NEVER BE THE SAME after that one.

["Download This Cool Song Now" by That Group plays, bringing out Mr. X. And he's got a singapore cane!]

SW: Oh boy. I love Singapore caning matches. I know you've broken a lot of laws and you should be caned.

NH: Please. You just want to see my naked ass.

SW: Your point being?

Styles: Look out Sarah!

WHACK!

Crowd: Ohhhhhhh!

SW: Man, he hit all of her with that one. The cane splintered.

Mr. X: You piece a shit!

NH: He's yelling at the Singapore cane?

[CENSORED.]

Mr. X: You muddafucca!

[Mr. X pulls out a gun.]

Styles: Mr. X is pistol whipping his Singapore cane! And I can't believe I just said that.

NH: Sarah is just staring at Mr. X.

[CENSORED.]

Sarah: Excuse me Mr. Jobber. But it's time for your regularly scheduled ass-kicking.

Styles: Spin kick. Spin kick. Kick to the gut. Kick to the face. Mr. X is down. Sarah with the cover.

MS: ONE! TWO! THREE! Mr. X is eliminated!

NH: No, he's not. Iron Woman Match, remember.

Styles: Right you are. Sarah can beat the crap out of Mr. X for as long as he wants and he can't do a damn thing about it! Mr. X will be sleeping with the fishes in no time flat.

SW: I'd rather be sleeping with Sarah.

Styles: And Sarah hits the hoodancanrana! And the crowd goes nuts! COVER! ONE! TWO! THREE!!!

MS: Geez, tone it down a bit, will you?

SW: Bwahahaha. Shill it telling YOU to tone it down. That's rich.

Styles: And now Sarah is pounding the crap out of Mr. X. Another cover! One! Two. Three! Sarah is owning Mr. X. Will Mr. X give up?

NH: Hey look, the short guys are going at it now. JJ is back up and fighting with Sleazy-C.

Styles: Sarah with a cover! One! Two! Three! Mr. X has been pinned. Again.

NH: JJ DROP! And now JJ is going to get...a pillow! Oh man he's wailing away on Sleazy-C. Listen to that impact!

PLOP. PLOP. PLOP.

MS: And listen to that crowd!

Fan in fourth row: This sucks. I'm outta here.

MS: They're HANGING FROM THE RAFTERS for this one!

SW: No, they WISH they were though. It's a good thing Jeannie isn't out here yet.

Jeannie: Why not?

SW: Ahh! Where did YOU come from?

Jeannie: Did somebody say wish?

SW: Um, yeah.

Jeannie: There you go.

SW: Well, go away.

Jeannie: If you wish. Mwahahahaha.

[She vanishes.]

SW: That was. Odd.

NH: That of everything you've seen tonight is odd? Mr. X pistol whipping a splintered cane? A cage passing through a football without the football even moving. Stand-up comedy by a bunch of sick little smileys? And THIS is your weird getter of the day?

SW: Yes.

NH: Fair enough.

["That Kickass Song" by That Group suddenly begins playing. And out steps Kay Fabe. She is in a skin-tight black Scuba suit!]

SW: Man, is it cold in here or something?

NH: What are you...?

SW: Four erect nipples and all is cold.

NH: Stop looking at my chest.

Styles: And look, she's coming out here with Mike Monroe!

NH: Oh no. This is not going to be good. Why is Michelle coming out to the ring with Kay Fabe and Mike.

SW: That's Monotone's wife Michelle?

Styles: This love triangle is going to provide some sort of entertainment, and I use that term lightly. And I understand Kay's gimmick match is a Scuba suit match. Which I guess is like a swimsuit competition?

G.I. Slow (voice): Why do you need a new producer?

SW: Who was that?

Heidi: G.I. Slow again.

SW: Look, I'd rather see Kay Fabe nude in a jacuzzi full of pudding, but I'll deal with this Scuba Suit match. I guess somebody will have to get into a scuba suit to compete with her?

Styles: Oh dear lord. Don't let Sleazy-C or Mr. X know that. I really don't want to see them in Scuba suits.

MS: It would be simply AMAZING. Can this historical night GET ANY BIGGER?

SW: And this match has come to a halt as everyone is staring at Kay Fabe. She's got a microphone.

Styles: Sarah's trying to pin Mr. X, but he's actually kicking out! Sarah's giving up. Mr. X and Sleazy-C are staring at Kay Fabe. Sarah is pulling her cell phone back out. I guess she's going to leave another message for Angel.

Kay Fabe: Finally....Kay Fabe....HAS come.

[The crowd cheered.]

KF: Now. Kay Fabe bets you're all wondering why the Monroes have joined Kay Fabe in this ring right now. Well, Mike Monroe has something he wants to tell his wife Michelle. Mike?

SW: Uh oh.

NH: I suddenly have a bad feeling.

SW: So do I.

NH: Hey!

SW: What?

NH: Get your hand off my thigh.

SW: It's karma baby. I'm balancing the universe. This balances out the bad feeling cuz this feels SO good.

NH: Don't make me break all your fingers, one by one.

Mike: Michelle. I want you out of this ring.

Michelle: Then why did you ask me to come out here?

Mike: I want you out of my bank account.

Michelle: Don't you mean, MY bank account?

Mike: I want you out of our apartment.

Michelle: The one I'm paying the rent on?

Mike: And...I WANT A DIVORCE! AND I don't want you to ever, EVER, NEVER COME BACK! I'm Mike Monroe darnit!

[Michelle slapped her cheeks, Home Alone style.]

NH: Poor Michelle. She never saw this one coming.

Mike: I've found somebody who I love. (He wrapped his arm around Kay Fabe's waist.) And her name is Kay Fabe. Isn't that right baby?

KF: Kay Fabe says that was just, great. Perfect in fact. (She looked at Michelle.) So, Kay Fabe assumes you're single?

Mike: HEY!

[The crowd cheers at the prospect of lesbianism!]

Mike: Wait, wait, wait, I thought we were in love?

KF: Love? You thought you could convert Kay Fabe to your team? Kay Fabe says you have a better shot of converting Michelle to MY team. The winning team. The Lesbian's Team.

[The crowd began chanting for some HLA.]

KF: Hey honey. You want to get back at this pathetic oversexed man, here is your key to my trailer. You can meet me there later.

[Michelle waited for the key.]

KF: Oh.

[Kay grabbed Michelle's right hand and balled it into a fist. Kay then began wiggling her fist back and forth.]

KF: And you knock on the door like that and Kay Fabe will let you come...inside. IF YA SMELLLLLLLLLLALALLALLALALALALLALLALLALALALALALALALLALA. What the lesbian......is COOKING!

Michelle: There are so many emotions. Anger. Sadness. Shock. Fear. Hornyness! I've got to go.

[She goes.]

Mike: Wait, Michelle!

[Kay grabs his arm.]

KF: Not so fast. You've got one last taste of Kay's Bottom coming!

Styles: KAY'S BOTTOM! SHE HIT IT! OH MY GOD! Mike Monroe has been laid–

SW: That lucky bastard.

Styles: Out.

["Cool Song Of The Moment" by That Group plays.]

NH: It's now time for a Parking Lot Brawl! Let's see who is going to be taking part in this gimmick.

[The TinyTron slowly begins flipping before a blurry image appears.]

Shill: It's XXXtreme Machine!

XM: thiz sux o noe itz stratin 2 snoow.

STJS: Hey Angel. It's Sarah again. Just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you. Say, is it possible the fWEo will sign me to a contract? I don't know when mine expires here. Come to think of it, I don't remember signing a contract. Because, well, I'm the Slayer and I can go anywhere I want. So if I don't hear from you today, I'm gonna make it my duty to come to the fWEo on every show and get rid of all the jobbers one by one and help you find your puppy. And then there will be nothing standing in the way of our love. K? Bye!

NH: Just in case everyone forgot, everyone is still in the Hell In A Cell. Though nobody is wrestling at the moment. Sarah is on her cell phone and the heels are just staring at Kay Fabe's body.

KF: Now. Kay Fabe came to Why, Arizona to lay the carpet down on somebody's chunky, monkey ass. Now, Kay Fabe demands somebody come into the Lesbian's ring and get ready. AWWW, crap! The Domino is bored of carrying your roooody pooo, candy ass!

Styles: Oh no! Don't tell me!

KF: You shut up. No way bitch, The Domino says this shtick has gone on too long. The Domino is more popular in a lesbian's body than he ever was in his own. So what are you gonna do about it? You'd like to know that wouldn't you. Yes I--IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I'M GONNA DO ABOUT IT! Just shut up and let's finish our evil plan that nobody knows about. The Domino means, for a lesbian, you sure don't bang enough chicks for The Domino's liking. And that whole Monroe thing was just....disgusting. Hey! Simmer down buster! I've got powers you can't even conceive. The Domino says know your role and shut your mouth!

SW: What the frickin hell is going on?

NH: I think Kay and the Domino are about to get a divorce.

KF: I know what will shut you up.

[Kay runs over to Sarah, grabs her head and plants a huge kiss on her lips.]

KF: What about that? Well...that was pretty damn nice. Now, go kiss Heidi and we'll call it even. OK!

SW: OH MAN. This night just got great.

[Kay runs face first into the cage.]

KF: Try using the door jabroney. Shut up Dom! No you shut up. You wanna walk around like a big shot like you're The Domino, then at least use the door you monkey ass.

SW: Sarah is still stunned by that kiss. She's just kind of standing there, staring off into space. Heidi? Where are you going?

NH: I'm NOT kissing Kay Fabe. Not with who is inside of her.

Kay: Awww, come on Heidi. Well now what Mr. Smartypants? The ring is surrounded. I can't fit through there! Well The Domino says you'll climb over this cage.

G.I. Slow: Hold on a second. How can it be snowing outside?

[Cut to BigBOSS.]

BigBOSS: (Looking up from his computer.) D'oh!

SW: Well I'll be damned. G.I. Slow noticed the plot hole before any of us did.

Styles: Snow in Arizona. Gotta love pre-tapes.

["The Twilight Zone" music begins playing for two seconds.]

SW: Kay is climbing the Hell In A Cell. Oh MAN, Heidi is trapped over here!

NH: The hell I am!

Bang!

Styles: Ohhh, myyyyy, GOD! Heidi is climbing the cage!

SW: OH YEAH! She wants it BAD! This should be on pay-per-view! I think we are about to have the moment of all moments in BOB history right here!

["Remember That Cool Song?" by That Group begins playing.]

SW: CRAP!!!

MS: KAMIKAZIE KEN! THE TEAM CAPTAIN!

Styles: And he's a roll of barbed wire. This lesbian kiss may be the most EXTREME of all time!

SW: Heidi and Kay Fabe are both on top of the cell!

Styles: And, oh no! Heidi's heel is caught in the roof!

KF: Oh look, the football!

KK: Step aside lesbian! That football is mine!

KF: You want the football? Here, take it!

[Kay grabs the football and shoves it at Ken with all her might and it hits him in the nose. He falls backward and the cage gives out.]

CRASH!

Styles: OH MY GOD! Ken just crashed through the cage into the ring.

SW: Who cares, Kay Fabe is going for Heidi!


Badly timed commercial breaks. Don't they just suck.

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© 2003 BOB: Oh yeah, the irony just don't stop. Come back next week for the conclusion. MWAHAHAHAHAHA.

 

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