[We fade in on the ballroom of the Four Dragons Casino in Sin City. Yep. There it is.]
Styles: Hello everyone and welcome to Total Non-Action Wrestling iMPLOSION! I'm Mikey Styles, along with Scotty Whatbody, and Scotty, we've got a huge night of action for everyone.
Scotty Whatbody: I've got nothing, Styles.
Styles: What's wrong?
SW: Trey didn't write any dialogue. My page is blank!
Styles: Oh. Wow.
SW: You don't think I'm getting fired, do you?
Styles: Well, fans, we've got—
SW: Styles, I asked you a question!
Styles: We're going to head right up to the ring as two men are about to make their BOB wrestling debut! Take it, Heidi.
SW: Do I exist?
[Sound of paper ripping.]
SW: Oh, wait. Somebody just stapled my paper on backward. Wait! I have a zinger!
["Jelly Lips' by The Ozric Tentacles starts playing. A man in a blue and purple full body luchadore outfit with fake tentacles glued on stumbles out. Zero reaction from the crowd.]
NH: The opening match of iMPLOSION is set for one fall and is a double debut match. Introducing first.
Styles: I understand we've got some pre-recorded comments from PMOW. Let's go now.
[A masked man is seen on the screen drinking from a bottle of tequila. His frilly tuxedo is moth bitten and covered in mud. He realizes the camera is on him and spills some of the tequila over a bowl of nachos.]
Portuguese Man Of War: Duke Thompson... you might have muscles like melons and you may defeat me here later tonight, but I still have my mask and my pride.
[He takes a big swig of tequila and tries to saunter towards the camera but just falls over. Paul Yoman suddenly comes into view.]
Paul Yoman: That's right, and when The Man Of War sobers up he will knock you into next week Duke whoever you are.
[PMOW gets up and raises his bottle in the air.]
PMOW: Saraiva ao poder do calamar!
[Back to live action.]
Styles: My Portuguese is a tad rusty, Scotty, any idea what he just said there?
SW: If Babelfish is to be trusted, something along the lines of "hail to the power of the squid." Man, we get all the winners in BOB, don't we?
["The Crusher" by the Novas plays next. A tall, muscular man lunges out from the back and begins shaking the Flimsy Guardrail™ ala the Ultimate Warrior. Again, zero reaction for the newcomer.]
NH: And his opponent. Allegedly from Mars. This is. Can I say *BEEP*? No? Let's call him "Brown Thunder" Duke Thompson!
SW: Brown Thunder? I like it. Though looking at this dude and PMOW, I'm guessing it's safe to say that if there were a fan here, this match would hit it.
Styles: That was remarkably restrained for you, Scotty. I'm almost impressed. This one is ready to begin. Lockup and Thompson easily shoving the squidadore backward into the corner. Looks like we've got a clean break.
DT: I just *BEEP* my pants.
SW: So much for a "clean" break, Styles.
SW: Man, hopefully somebody doesn't give Trey the idea to bring back Urine and form the Piss & Crap Infection. Maybe Kay Fabe could be their manager and sing so horribly that I'd actually find her unattractive.
Styles: Is that even possible?
SW: Worked with Christy Hemme.
Styles: Hold on. And now Thompson on the attack with several knees and body blows.
Styles: PMOW avoids a big boot from Thompson. PMOW unloading with punches. He heads up top. Antebraço do vôo connects, but Thompson is still standing. PMOW whips Thompson to the corner. Another antebraço do vôo to the face connects.
SW: Somebody call a priest, Styles is speaking in tongues again.
Styles: PMOW mounting the second rope.
Fans: Uns, dois, três, quatro, cinco, seis, sete, oito, nove, dez!
Styles: And who knew the Sin City fans were multi-lingual?
[Cut to a shot of The Flunky picking up various posterboards off the floor. Oh, there's one for "uns." And there's one for "cinco."]
SW: Of course, our fans cheated. Amazing they even read those signs. They totally railed against the "boo" and "cheer" signs. Poor Flunky. I didn't even know you could get papercuts on your eyes. Vicious, vicious fans here in Sin City.
Styles: Thompson's got PMOW by the throat now. Oh my GOD! He just threw him overhead in a choke toss maneuver. What strength by Duke Thompson.
SW: Yep, that's quite a God-given physique he's got there. Of course, I'm assuming that God was injecting his ass full of steroids Roger Clemens style.
Styles: Big slam by Thompson. I still think we haven't seen Thompson leave his feet.
SW: He's so stiff, he'd probably be stuck on his back like a turtle if he ever got knocked down.
Styles: He's got a chinlock on PMOW now. This one's been all Thompson, Scotty. But PMOW is trying to draw some strength from the fans.
SW: Yeah. Those crickets must really love P-Man.
Styles: And, hold on. What is this?
[A 50-year-old man covered in baby oil is suddenly in mid-ring flexing his muscles. He smiles his overly whitened teeth and clenches his fists. He turns to the camera and points.]
SW: I think a fan hopped the rail or something. Security? How did he get a microphone. Does Heidi have a thing for older men or WHAT?
Mr. Fantastic: Woo! I told you I was coming to Brawlers On A Budget and still can't nobody stop me now that I'm here!
[He stops flexing his muscles and picks an empty plastic cup that somebody threw at him before crushing it in his hands.]
Mr. Fantastic: You'd better take your vitamins BOB, cuz when the splash comes you'll all be wiped out. You'll be bodyslammed so hard you wont know what hit you!
[He puts on a pair of sunglasses before pointing at the screen with both of his fingers.]
Styles: Who IS this guy?
SW: I don't know, he still hasn't sent in a bio. But Duke Thompson looks like he's about to flip out.
DT: You call zese muscles? Me dead grandmozer has bigger muscles zen zis! Now get zee frick out of zis ring you lilly-livered nut-hook before I unlesh ze hell upon you!
SW: Ugh, a bodybuilder vs. bodybuilder angle? Smell the ratings, baby!
DT: Now if you'll excuse me, I must go squash zis squid like a bug!
Styles: Generic Ref asking Mr. Fantastic to leave the ring, and he appears to be doing so. Thompson yanks up PMOW. Dr. Gonzo Bomb coming up here. Hey, Mr. Fantastic just took out Thompson's legs! COVER! ONE! TWO! THREE! HEGOTHIM!
NH: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, Portuguese Man of War!
Styles: What an upset. The little overweight drunk luchadore just beat the behemoth!
SW: And the crickets go monkey!
[Backstage, where a few crates and tables are lying around. Pigeon is sitting on one of the crates, wearing a pure black kilt, a beaded necklace around his neck, with his hair long and scraggly, and two black streaks painted down below his eyes. He's talking with Steve Roydz, who is wearing a black vest, jean shorts, and a bald cap.]
Pigeon: Steven... do you ever feel -
Pigeon: - a darkness, so darkly dark within the pit of your stomach -
Pigeon: - festering within the bowels of your gut -
Pigeon: - lying inside the inner sanctum of your disgestive system -
Pigeon: A darkness that eats away at you -
Pigeon: - nibbles at your flesh -
Pigeon: - takes a few bites of your delicous outer being -
Pigeon: - and molds you into an entirely new person -
Pigeon: - a completely seperate human -
Pigeon: - someone else.
Pigeon: Quoth the Pigeon...
Roydz: ... Cuz Steve Roydz SAID SO!!!
[The door swings open... and someone steps before the eyes of Pigeon and Roydz... someone we can't see due to the camera's position.]
Steve Roydz: ... Wow.
Pigeon: Our leader has arrived... for the first time. Let the evil begin.
[We return to the Four Dragons Casino. "I Am Evil" by Darc-Soulz begins to play... When suddenly, it cuts out, and the lights do as well. The Tiny-Tron fills with static, before the lower body of a man is shown, sitting on a wooden chair... a man wearing torn jeans, a flannel shirt wrapped around his waist, and dusty work boots on his feet. The man reaches down to the ground and picks up an unlit cigarette and a lighter. As he lifts both up, the camera switches to a side view of the man's face... covered in shadow. He lights the cigarette... takes a puff... and flicks the cig to the ground... as the wooden floor of the log cabin he sits within goes up in flame. Fire surrounds him... and we rest upon a view of his eyes... the vision of fire burning in his glistening pupils. As the fire rises, and a smirk dripping with evil begins to spread across his face... he whispers.]
Man: Kill Me With a Beat.
["Do You Call My Name", by Ra, plays, and the lights quickly return, blazing with a brilliant hue of orange. Two Dollar-Store Troopers part the curtain... Pigeon and Steve Roydz emerge first, and as they stand on either side of the entrance, a golden shower of sparks begins to rain down. The Flunky immediately runs out and sprays the sparks with a fire extinguisher so we avoid a Great White-like inferno that kills everybody.]
SW: Somebody really oughta call an electrician about that.
Nurse Heidi: Please welcome, former Swiss Army Champion, former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, former Parodyox spokesperson, former hair metalist, and now, former goth poser. Born in Nowhere, Oklahoma, he now resides in Sinister City, Utah... He is the master of the Evil-Lution, the innovator of the Sinister Slice... He is the leader of the Hierarchy, and he IS better than you... Sin City, give it up... for AXXXLLLLLL!!! ... I better get a healthy bonus for spewing this drivel...
["Do You Call My Name" continues, and as the words "My Heart Is Bloody And I Can't Take It Anymore" are spoken, Axl appears in the midst of the shower of golden sparks and fire extinguisher fumes. But, he no longer wears any semblance of paint or make-up. He wears a pair of torn jeans, dusty work boots, and a long-sleeved flannel shirt wrapped around his waist. As well, he wears a black t-shirt with the words "I AM" printed across the front in crimson... and around his throat, he wears a black string carrying a crystal dragon pendant. As his long hair hangs loosely down his neck, Axl lifts the microphone in his right hand up to his lips... His eyes casting off a steely gaze...]
Axl: Ya know... I've been here for, what, two years now?
SW: The longest two years of my life...
[Axl looks across the fans in the seats... before looking down toward the floor]
Axl: ... And yet, still I get no respect out of you worthless, lazy, pieces of trash. I've bled... I've sweat... I've broken my back and every bone in my body, just to become the best I can be.
SW: Try breaking a few more! I really respect guys with broken necks who can't wrestle anymore.
Axl: The best there is, not only here in Brawlers on a Budget, but the best across the span of the globe. I've done everything within my power to change you people's minds...
[... Axl looks back up at the fans... now with a look of hate and disgust]
Axl: ... and yet, in the end, when it all comes down to it, you all still think of me... just about the same thing you thought of me when I first stepped onto the scene. Some of you think of me as gay.
SW: I do!
Axl: Some of you think of me as a loser.
Axl: Some of you think of me as a poser.
SW: Yeah, for fagazines.
Axl: But ALL of you think of me... as a joke.
SW: Best promo ever. End it now!
Axl: No more.
SW: Don't count on it.
Axl: I've busted my ASS--
SW: BWAHAHAHA! Somebody's busted his ass.
Axl: --night in, night out, to gain a bit of respect around here, from my peers, from you fans, and from the upper management. But no matter what I do, no matter what I say... no matter what I become... all I'm good for is a laugh at my expense.
Styles: Like Scotty is right now?
SW: Axl is a walking fish in a barrel.
Axl: No more. I've had enough of the teasing... the taunting. Wrestling isn't meant to be "funny."
Styles: What company does he think he works for?
Axl: And when the most dominant man in the world of wrestling is nothing more than a laughingstock? Then it's time for a change.
SW: Is it too soon to make an Owen joke here?
Styles: I think so, yeah.
SW: Damn! I was going to suggest somebody let Axl borrow Kamikazie Ken's blue outfit and—
Axl: It's time for the court jester to become the KING.
Styles: Axl Presley?
Axl: I've been training... and I've been learning. I've been listening to a man with a vast and powerful knowledge of this business... A man with a firm grip on what it means to be truly... evil. A man... known as Garth Vader. He's been leading me down the pathway to becoming not only what I've wanted to be for years... but what I NEED to be in order to once again reign as OWCTM. He is my inspiration. And he has inspired me to cast away the delusions I've held onto... of being gothic, of being a hair metalist. For too long I've tried to be something I'm not... But now... Now?
Axl: No more.
SW: Woohoo! He's retiring?
Styles: I don't think so, Scotty.
Axl: For from now on, I AM... nothing more, and nothing less, than what I say I am. The pinnacle of sports entertainment. The greatest professional athlete in the history of the game. And first and foremost... Whether you're a fan here in Sin City or a fan watching at home on TV... whether you're some suit like BigBOSS or a Brawler who couldn't defeat me on my WORST day? The Truth Is... I'm BETTER than each... and every... one of you. As is every member of the Hierarchy.
SW: I'm pretty sure I could take Rose. And boy would I like to try!
Axl: And with me as their leader, we WILL reign supreme here in the land of the Low Budget. And with Garth Vader guiding me every step of the way? We will be INVINCIBLE. The day of the Hierarchy is soon to arrive... 2008 WILL be... the year... of the Hierarchy.
[Axl lowers to a knee, bowing his head... as Garth Vader walks through the curtains and stands behind his pupil... resting a hand on Axl's shoulder.]
Styles: Fans, don't go away. The Royal Flush Rumble is next!
NH: Ladies and gentlemen, it is NOW time, for the Royal Flush Rumble Weapons Match!
[She waits for a pop. Doesn't get it.]
NH: The rules are as follows. Two men will begin and fight for five minutes. Then every two minutes, a new BOBster will be introduced. Order of entry was drawn by Trey Vincent's deck o' Hooters girl cards. BOBsters will be eliminated when they are thrown over the top rope and both feet touch the floor. The last four sports entertainers standing will go on to the next round of the Grand Slam tournament. Introducing first…
["Voices" by Disturbed plays. The crowd lets out some half-hearted boos.]
NH: He now hails from Darkness Falls, wherever that is, and weighs 240 pounds, this is Pigeon!
SW: 240? Maybe after a week of lipo. Pigeon is so out of shape. And man, the gay from the Hierarchy just rubs off of Pigeon more and more every day. Axl's got Pigeon wearing a dress now.
Styles: That's not a dress, it's a kilt!
SW: Well, "kilt" + eye makeup = fat fag, Styles. Didn't you ever go to math class?
Styles: Wouldn't that be home ec?
SW: In Pigeon's case, definitely. And look, he even has a giant dildo.
Styles: That's not a dildo. It's a wooden bird feeder.
SW: I dare you to go sniff the end of it.
Styles: Not even with your nose, Scotty. Pigeon going with a bird feeder on a pole as his weapon of choice. Who will he have to face at number two?
["Killed by Death" hits. The crowd boos a bit more at Death than Pigeon.]
NH: And entering next, from the Netherworld, this, is, Death!
Styles: What a great way to start off this Rumble. These two have a long history together. Thanks in part to myself and Heidi, because Death and Pigeon were the only two BOBsters who showed up for one episode of Sunday Morning Chloroform. Remember that one, Scotty?
SW: Will you quit making up stuff that happened? I'm getting sick of this. I never saw that show. What are you talking about?
Styles: Well, you're one of many who didn't see it, sadly. It was during the Comedy Central Dark Ages. Death and Pigeon are ready to kick off the Royal Flush Rumble.
SW: Wait, where's Death's weapon? Did he forget to pick one?
Styles: Oh man, I guess he did. Now that's embarrassing.
[Death quickly turns toward Styles.]
Styles: Scotty said it!
SW: Hey! Death doesn't even need a weapon. He's got the Touch of Death. He can kill a man with one finger. Trey should just book Death vs. Axl every week. That'd be like Heaven for me.
Styles: Which explains why it never gets booked. OK. The Flunky is offering a bag of garbage to Death? What weapon will Death pull out?
SW: Hopefully, not one of Sarah's tampons.
Styles: It's an empty glass pasta sauce jar! Oh, that may cause some hurt for Pigeon is Death connects. Death throws the sauce at Pigeon. Swing. Oh! Pigeon just hit the sauce back into Death's midsection.
[After no selling it, Death looks down at the unbroken bottle at his bony feet. He picks it up again.]
Styles: Oh my GOD! That one connected with Pigeon's skull!
SW: And so did that one! And look! Pigeon's busted open.
Styles: I think that just might be the tomato sauce, Scotty.
SW: Are you saying Pigeon's so fat, his blood type is Ragu? BWAHAHAHA!
Styles: Death pulls up Pigeon. And a punch takes Pigeon right back down. And again. Swing and a miss. Pigeon with a jab. Another jab. Pigeon whips Death into the corner. Pigeon runs right into a bony foot. Death with a knee lift. And another. And a third. What an offense by Death here, Scotty.
SW: He may only have three moves, but all of them can kill you.
Styles: Pigeon whipped to the ropes and he eats a boot. Er, foot. Pigeon back up. Death grabs him for a side slam, no! Pigeon with the reversal and connects with that Darkness Falls leg sweep. Pigeon grabs the bird feeder and he's heading up top.
SW: Look. Further confirmation. He's gonna ride that birdfeeder like it's a broomstick. Only chicks ride sticks.
Styles: Pigeon leaps. And ow, nuts, there's nobody home.
SW: Hope he has a couple spare acorns stored in his nest.
Styles: Death stomping away on the bloody, or possibly saucy, or possibly BOTH, Pigeon. Death drags up Pigeon and whips him to the ropes. Pigeon holds on. Death charges and Pigeon pulls down the top rope. Death hangs on the apron, just barely! Pigeon off the opposite ropes and charges. But he runs right into an elbow. Death grabs him. Netherworld Powerbomb coming up! Pigeon escapes. Superkick takes down Death! Both men are down.
Crowd: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
["This is XXXtreme" by Harry Dick & The No-Tones hits.]
Styles: It's XXXtreme Machine. And he doesn't seem to be carrying a weapon with him. XXXtreme Machine is in. Pigeon grabs him. Pigeon Effect! And XXXtreme bounces back up from the impact right into the waiting hands of Death. And Death is…oh no! NO!
Crowd: Holy crap! Holy crap! Holy crap!
Styles: Awesome Death Bomb through the EZ Break Announce Desk! I've never seen anybody thrown that far before in my life! Amazing show of strength there by Death.
SW: Get off my script, XXXtreme! Aw, man. He got suckiness all over my script, Styles. Gross.
Styles: My sympathies to your script, Scotty. What about XXXtreme Machine?
SW: My thoughts exactly!
Styles: Why am I not surprised?
Pigeon: What about XXXtreme Machine? What about ME? What about PIGEON!
SW: My thoughts exactly!
Styles: Well, XXXtreme Machine has just been eliminated from the Grand Slam tournament to the surprise of no one. He didn't even get to grab a weapon or anything. Meanwhile, Pigeon and Death are brawling back inside the ring.
SW: Why doesn't Death kill Pigeon already? I know we have to kill an hour of television, too, but do my eyes have to be tortured for so long by seeing Pigeon in his hardcore skirt of non-manliness?
Styles: Didn't some wise old man once said that only real men wear kilts.
SW: Too bad Death doesn't have a face, or Pigeon could just cut one right into his face and give him pink eye.
Styles: Is that true?
SW: If the writers of "Knocked Up" are to be trusted, then yes.
Styles: Luckily for Death, he doesn't have a face. Or eyes. But Death does have some painful offense, and Death is working on Pigeon's arm now. Take away Pigeon's arm, you may take away his ability to hit the Pigeon Effect.
SW: Pigeon Effect? I know what a Pigeon Drop is. What the hell is a Pigeon Effect? *Pfffft* Are we even a parody fed anymore?
Styles: Death now touching his pinky finger to Pigeon's arm? What does that do?
SW: I'm not sure. If the index finger is the killer, maybe that's the one that causes arthritis. Ooooh, or maybe it'll give Pigeon arm cancer!
Death: Will Ferrell sucks!
Styles: Scotty? Any insight?
SW: I agree! He is not funny at all.
[Death tries to walk on the top rope, but Pigeon arm drags Death to the mat.]
SW: Was Will Ferrell in that movie "Old School"?
Styles: I've never seen it. No clue. Pigeon with an inverted atomic drop. Pigeon unloading with several punches. And there's a neckbreaker.
Crowd: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
["Are we Ourselves" by The Fixx hits. The crowd pops.]
Random Japanese Guy in Crowd: GODZILLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Styles: It's Mr. Paradox. And he's bringing a weapon with him. A solid plaster statue of Godzilla 2000. Death with a sideslam on Pigeon. And Paradox is quickly into the ring. Paradox smashes Death in the skull with Godzilla.
SW: I understand we're heading over to the Japanese announce desk? We HAVE a Japanese announce desk?
Kenta Sushi: The recklessness of science gave birth to you, Godzilla. Why do you appear before us?
[Paradox continues pummeling Death and Pigeon with the Godzilla statue.]
Daisuke Yakitori: Because we humans gave birth to this monster.
Kenta Sushi: Godzilla is...inside all of us! Back to you, SUKOTII.
SW: Yeah, yeah, bebopaloobopawopshamboo. And domo arigato if I got to. Hey, why don't you two shut up and go get me some General Tso's chicken. Chop chop!
Styles: Scotty, that's Chinese food.
SW: Right. Aren't they Chinese?
Styles: Don't you remember less than 30 seconds ago when you said we were going to the JAPANESE desk?
SW: (Singing) History shows again and again, how nature points up the folly of men. Godzilla!
Styles: Right. Why do I even bother trying to reason with you.
SW: I have no frickin' idea, Styles.
[Death grabs Paradox.]
Styles: TOUCH OF DEATH! I said, TOUCH OF DEATH!
SW: Paradox is just standing there. Is he no selling dying? Now THAT'S cool!
[Death looks at his finger and shakes it.]
Death: *Ahem* This has never happened to me before. Give me a second here…
Styles: I think Death needs a little blue pill or something.
SW: He's got ED? Erect-kill dysfunction? Oh man!
Crowd: You can't kill! *clap, clap, clapclapclap* You can't kill *clap, clap, clapclapclap*
Styles: These merciless Sin City fans are all over Death! Oh man. But he can still throw a punch. That one leveled Mr. Paradox. Paradox and Death have each other by the throat. I have a feeling this test of strangulation will work in Death's favor here, Scotty.
SW: Ya think so, Captain Obvious? Death doesn't even have a throat.
Styles: Paradox with a punch. Death with a punch. Pigeon takes both down with one ugly clothesline.
Crowd: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
[Sounds of stuff breaking fill the ballroom. Then sounds of booing fans fill the ballroom.]
Styles: Luke Warm! Luke Warm! Luke Warm! The Texas Bumbeldink is here! Or a reasonable facsimile. Luke turns Death around. BONECUTTER! BONECUTTER! BONECUTTER! Luke Warm has just eliminated Death!
SW: Pigeon with a bulldog on Paradox.
Styles: And now Warm is turning his attention to Pigeon and Mr. Paradox. Paradox swings Godzilla at Warm. Warm grabs the Godzilla statue. STONECUTTER on the Godzilla statue!
[Paradox scratches his head after watching THAT one.]
SW: And Paradox takes down Warm with a nasty clothesline. Hey, Luke forgot a weapon.
Styles: You're right, Scotty. Luke is going to be at a terrible disadvantage now. Paradox going after Luke.
[Luke Warm opens up a bottle of soda and drops in some Mentos, and sprays Paradox in the face, along with a few fans the crowd.]
Styles: Nope, he was hiding his weapon.
SW: Oh, I thought that was just his Luke-Hoo belly. He was actually smuggling a soda bottle under his shirt. What a thirsty SOB!
Styles: Paradox is back up. He whips Warm hard to the corner and nails a clothesline to the back of Warm's head. Paradox unloading on Warm now. Whip to the ropes. Dropkick, nicely done by Paradox.
SW: Pigeon just grabbed Paradox! He's trying to toss him out, but Paradox is hanging on so far. Paradox with an eye poke, which gets a huge reaction from the crowd. And now Pigeon is trying to stave off elimination here at the hands of Paradox. But here comes Warm. He's unloading with rights on both men.
Crowd: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
["Smooth Operator" by Sade hits. The crowd boos.]
Styles: It's the Dirtiest Boobie Enhancer In the Game Today®! The Sinister Surgeon™!
SW: Aw, man. If the crowd is booing him, he must be a face now. Great. There goes my favorite heel. Why is he a face now? Because he's in love with Heidi?
Styles: I'm not sure. He just may finally be at that point when he gets the Legend Pop®. But since rules as we know them don't exist in Sin City, naturally, he gets booed.
SW: He's coming out with a sack. What's the deal with this?
Styles: That's no ordinary sack. That's the Big Ol' Bag O' Dirty Tricks.
SW: Speaking of sacks, I highly doubt Heidi's touching SMP's any time soon.
Styles: Plants digging into his bag of goodies. Pigeon charges. Plants just threw powder in his eyes. Pigeon has been blinded. Oh no. Now he's got the roll of quarters of DOOM! Oh, he just decked Paradox.
SW: Bwahaha! And look at Generic Ref! He's busy trying to steal all Plants' money, probably so he can go gamble on the slot machines after the show. What a degenerate gambler.
[Luke Warm and SMP come face to face.]
Styles: Are we about to see the Mama'z Boyz explode? Pigeon's got his feeder! He just swung, both Boyz duck. SMP's got the feeder. And Luke's got Plants' bag.
Styles: And Pigeon is covered in glass and birdseed after that one. Clothesline! SMP has just eliminated Pigeon!
Styles: Pigeon was the first one in, which means that now Mr. Paradox has been in there the longest. I could give you an exact time if I could afford a watch, but I work here, so I can't.
SW: Check this out! Luke's got a chain wrapped around his thumb? And he just gave his tag team partner a big thumbs up?
[Thundering boos from the crowd.]
SW: Use it as a weapon, you idiot! No wonder these fans boo him.
Styles: Warm's about the layeth the Luketh down on Paradox. Texan spike to the throat!
SW: This is no fair. Two on one? We need more heels in there!
Styles: STONECUTTER on Paradox! He pulls up Paradox and throws him at Plants. Here comes the Scalpel's Edge! And it connects. Paradox has just felt two of the most devastating finishing moves in our sport.
SW: Luke extending a hand to Plants. Oh, right. This will end will.
Styles: Plants looking around at the BOB fans, who want Plants to Nipple Cutter Warm. They shake hands. Nipple Cutter attempt reversed! Plants off the ropes. STONECUTTER — no! Plants evades.
SW: At least they forgot about Paradox. Now he's getting into Plants' bag of tricks. No way. Hey, I think he's got a lighter. Paradox from his knees.
Styles: Flash paper fireball fells Plants and Warm. Oh my GOD!
Crowd: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
["Dead Between the Walls" by Pelican hits.]
SW: Who the hell is this? I've never heard this music before?
Styles: Me neither? Heidi?
NH: Uh, now coming out…
[Everyone waits to see who this mystery entrant is.]
NH: Ladies and gentlemen, Steve Studnuts!
SW: The alleged star of the infamous sex tape, "Heidi's Anatomy" is here! Wait. Didn't he get booted out of the tournament when he lost to Dr. Thrilla?
Styles: He most definitely did! I don't get this at all. Nobody in this match knew Studnuts was going to be in there.
SW: Not even Plants?
Styles: What? Why would Plants know?
SW: I just figured, since they're sharing Heidi or whatever that deal is, that this would've leaked out by now.
Styles: Well, Studnuts is apparently in this Royal Flush Rumble now. And that's quite a large book he's got there.
[As Studnuts gets to ringside, he holds up his book for the whole world to read: "50,000 Common and Not-So-Common Uses of the words F@#K, F@#KED, or F@#KING in a Sentence."]
SW: So that's where he gets all his material! I should've known.
Styles: Studnuts is in. And he's not throwing the book at anybody. He's pummeling them with it! Paradox goes down. Warm goes down. And there's a shot for SMP!
SW: I'm being told that Seth Harker inserted Steve Studnuts into this match as Joe Bananas replacement. I guess it's good to have friends in high places.
Styles: Not Trey, huh? Interesting.
SW: Yeah. This isn't going to end well for the iAd. They shouldn't be fighting with each other. They should just be beating the crap out of everybody! What's wrong with them?
Styles: Ego, ego, ego.
SW: Echo, echo, echo? What?
Styles: Well, as far as I know, there are two more entrants. I thought only Duff and The Great were left, but Steve Studnuts arrival is quite a shocker.
SW: Do you think Seth's hoping that Studnuts will advance, setting up a Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" vs. Steve Studnuts showdown?
Styles: Can you imagine if that comes to pass? The next iMPLOSION may be pure chaos! But the odds are really good for four of these men, as Death, Pigeon and XXXtreme Machine are already eliminated, which means that there must be two more eliminations. Fans, this match will continue when we return!
[As we return to the ballroom, "U Suck" by Strapping Young Lad is blasting. Düff is entering the ring.]
Styles: Düff has arrived. Studnuts charges, but Duff grabs him. Spinebuster. SMP charges at Düff, but SMP is backdropped. And here go Paradox and Düff brawling away with each other. Oh, Studnuts just blasted Düff from behind with the giant book of swears.
SW: Oh no. Paradox and Studnuts. Here we go again?
Styles: These two have a long rivalry in BOB. But it's been years since these two have faced off.
SW: Paradox almost got Studnuts a couple weeks back, but Jerri Li stopped that from happening. Look out!
Styles: Düff charges at Studnuts. He's got him. Oh no! Düff is no small man he's lifting up! Death Valley (Of the Sun) Driver to the floor! Düff is gone!
SW: Paradox and SMP are going at it in the corner. Both guys might go out. Paradox elbows his way free. Studnuts charges and clotheslines both guys down.
Crowd: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
SW: Luke Warm just grabbed Studnuts' book of swears.
Styles: STONECUTTER on the book! There's some payback, I think…
["(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" by Rolling Stones hits. The crowd boos.]
Styles: The Great got the luck of the draw and is the final entrant. He's walking out here with a, bottle of water? That looks like distilled water, Scotty.
SW: Umkay. Is he going to try waterboard somebody?
Styles: I'm not sure.
SW: Damn. I wish Axl had stayed in this tournament. I'd pay to see that.
Styles: Paradox and SMP are squared off. Studnuts is brawling with Warm. And nobody's seemed to notice The Great. He's digging into his tights. What did he just put on the mat, Scotty, can you see?
SW: It looks like a pebble, or maybe a pill? Hell, it could be a crab for all I know, I'm not sure.
[Cut to St. Louis, Missouri.]
Little Johnny: I say. I seem to be missing a Pete Trable cyborg pill.
[Little Johnny looks up at the camera.]
Little Johnny: What the deuce? Mommy! There's a naughty cameraman in my bedroom again!
[The camera suddenly begins looking left and right. It aims at a window and charges. Static. Back to the ballroom. The Great is pouring the gallon of water in the center of the ring, soaking the canvas. After the jug is empty, nothing happens to the pill. The Great stares curiously at where the pill used to be.]
The Great: Oh no, The Great's Pete Trable cyborg pill is, uh, being washed out of the ring. Where did it go?
[The Great slides out of the ring.]
The Great: The pill must have washed under the ring.
[The Great heads under the ring. There are sounds of arguing under the ring.]
Voice: I'm not going out there naked, nigga!
The Great (Voice): The Great says the pill didn't work. Now The Great says get out there and act like a cyborg or The Great will kick you out of The Great's house.
[The ringside area suddenly starts getting smoky. The Great crawls into the ring. When the smoke clears out a bit, everybody in the ring has stopped wrestling, and XFactor Pete Trable is standing near Scotty and Styles, naked, except for some pixilation over his naughty part.]
SW: Hey, uh, Pete. Nice night for a walk, eh?
PT: Nice night for a walk. Nigga. Your clothes. Give them to me. Now. Nigga.
Crowd: Pete's got shrinkage! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* Pete's got shrinkage! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* Pete's got shrinkage! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap*
SW: Since when do cyborgs have pubes?
Styles: Fans, I don't know. This is the most bizarre thing I've ever seen. I think. Possibly. A naked Pete Trable trying to pass himself off as a cyborg and trying to get Scotty Whatbody's clothes.
SW: I guess Little Johnny still has a few kinks to work out in his Pete Trable cyborg pill dealie. Maybe The Great used the wrong kind of water. No, I'm not giving you my clothes! Get your dick away from me, dude!
PT: I'll be back. Nigga.
[Pete runs to the backstage area.]
Styles: I didn't know cyborgs could run? Well. We've still got a match going on. I think? Yep. The Great's got that plastic water jug. He smashes Luke Warm in the face. And there goes Luke! Luke's been eliminated!
SW: By a water jug? Bwahahaha! Oh, this is the saddest match EVER!
[The bell rings.]
NH: Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners of the Royal Flush Rumble! Mr. Paradox! Dr. Silaconne M. Plants! Steve Studnuts! And The Great!
["Not All Who Wander Are Lost" by DevilDriver hits. Trey Vincent walks down the aisle, not paying any attention to the crowd. He walks around and gets the microphone from Heidi and slides in the ring.]
Trey Vincent: Congratulations, guys. You are the lucky four, which means you're going on to the final eight in the Grand Slam tournament. You make me proud to be Vice President in Charge of Everything. So. Fans, in two weeks, on iMPLOSION, you will see the following matches. You will see…Dr. Silaconne M. Plants and his tag team partner…Mr. Paradox, challenge myself and Kevin the Pyromaniac for the Not Good Enough to Fight Alone Tag Team titles. You will see Steve Studnuts vs. Dr. Thrilla in what should be a great rematch for the Swiss Army Belt. And you will see the beautiful, the lovely and talented, Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" vs. The Great for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. So, good night everyone and thanks--
["Rising Sun" by Bexta hits. Seth Harker steps out with his own microphone.]
Seth: Trey, I hate to be a stickler for details, but you just gave out the wrong matches.
TV: No, Seth. No I didn't.
Seth: Oh, yes you did. You see. Steve Studnuts was put into the tournament as Joe Bananas replacement. Which means, that if Studs managed to somehow survive this brutal match, well, he would enter as the lowest seed.
Seth: So, you see where this is going?
TV: I object!
Seth: You can't object. You're the one who gave me this job.
TV: To book the T&A division! Not to screw with me and Sarah!
Seth: She's got T. And she's got A. Doesn't she, Trey?
Seth: Right, then. So. As BOB's Figurehead. I am changing the matches! Trey, you and Kevin will defend the tag titles against Mr. Paradox and Dr. Silaconne M. Plants.
TV: Are you that evil Swedish Seth? This doesn't sound like you!
Seth: Oh, it's me, buddy. Also, in two weeks, you fans will see The Great, challenge Dr. Thrilla for the Swiss Army Belt.
TV: Oh, no, no, no.
Seth: Which leaves Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" to face, none other than…Steve Studnuts. For the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.
Seth: Now, just for a little business for SMP, The Great and Mr. Paradox. Once again, you guys have already qualified for the Beer in the Belly match, which means that if you win next week and become a champion, you will be removed from the Beer in the Belly match because by winning in two weeks, you will be cemented as being in the main event of UnFOURgiven. And there will be no double-booking.
Seth: Now, in the event that Plants, Paradox, or The Great, or all three of you get into the main event of UnFOURgiven, then I will name three worthy replacements for the Beer in the Belly Match who have yet to hold the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.
Seth: Also, if Plants, The Great or Paradox are not successful next week in trying to win a title, they will still be guaranteed their Beer in the Belly slot. However, if you boys want to rest up, and save us a little money, any of you three can request to remove yourselves from the tournament. That would mean that the current champion would advance to the finals with a bye. So, Trey, Kevin, Thrilla. If you guys have some money stashed away, now would be the time to start bribing. And Trey, tell Sarah she's screwed.
[Cut to a smiling Steve Studnuts.]
©2008 BOB Wrestling!
Styles: What a shocking turn of events! Fans, we're out of time. Good night everybody from Sin City! See you in two weeks with a new episode of iMPLOSION! And save your money to get UnFOURgiven! You won't want to miss any of this!