[Show opens with pictures of bombs, falling buildings, black holes, and a graph of BOB's television ratings and buy rates. It's iMPLOSION time, kids. Cross the Lame! Fade in on the BOB Ballroom and the pirate ship wrestling ring setup. The smarks have assembled once again to witness the glory that is Brawlers On a Budget wrestling. To revel in the lack of fireworks, the lack of home-made poorly spelled signs, and bad production levels. Color commentator Scotty Whatbody is in the middle of the ring.]
Scotty Whatbody: Hello, Sin City!
Drunken Idiots: Boooooooo!
SW: Now hold on, hold on.
Drunken Idiots: You sold out! You sold out! You sold out!
SW: Listen up you idiots! I made a business deal with Axl. You know how they say to buy a stock low and sell high? That's exactly what I'm going to do. Axl is as low as he's ever been right now, I'm going to rehab him, and make him into an ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS again!
Drunken Idiot: What about Threedom? *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* What about Threedom? *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* What about Threedom? *Clap, clap, clapclapclap*
SW: There's a big difference, *BEEP*holes! Threedom were a bunch of losers. Axl's already BEEN ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. You may not like Axl now, but when I'm through with him, you'll be marking out like little 10-year-old girls at a Jonas Brothers concert! And I'll make a killing when I sell his managerial services to Tifa Witherspoon, or whoever is the highest bidder. That's right, Tifa! Let's see if you can even afford him when I'm done!
[Scotty hands the mic off to ring announcer Nurse Heidi for the intros.]
["You Know You're Right" by Nirvana begins playing. The crowd turns up the boos for the impending arrival of Axl.]
NH: This opening tag team contest is set for one fall. Introducing first, now making his way to the ring. He hails from Sinister City, and weighs 202 pounds, and is now managed by Scotty Whatbody, this is Axl!
[Scotty hands her a card.]
NH: BWAHAHAHAHA! Savior of BOB my ass!
[Heidi slaps Scotty.]
Mikey Styles: OH MY GOD! Hello everyone, and welcome to Brawlers On a Budget! Welcome to Total Non-Action Wrestling iMPLOSION number 18 live from Sin City! And what a shocking development this week, as bitter enemies Axl and Scotty Whatbody have struck an alliance. And Drunken Idiots, I will NOT repeat the four-letter word that Scotty just called Heidi. But needless to say, it was not "diva."
[Axl has run into the ring.]
Styles: Scotty Whatbody holding Axl back. Because, yeah, that worked out so well for Axl on iMPLOSION 17 when he became the victim of a Heidicanrana. We may see a cat fight between Axl and Heidi here tonight.
["Metalstorm/Face the Slayer" by Slayer hits next.]
NH: And HER tag team partner!
[Drunken Idiots pop.]
NH: From Cloudydale, Connecticut, now making her home in the Chinatown section of Sin City, she weighs 100 pounds. This is Sarah Whatbody.
Styles: Scotty has certainly put together a dream team of sorts here. Axl, a former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, and his…wife…Sarah, a former two-time OWCTM. And the only reason they're married is literally because Sarah lost a Super Bowl bet, passed out drunk, and woke up married to him. And now they're the first e-couple of parody wrestling. But they've got a nightmare in the form of the Fetish Freaks as their opponents tonight.
["People = Shit" by Slipknot hits. The crowd erupts in cheers as Jerri Li leads out Christian St. Christian and Scatman.]
NH: And their opponents, being accompanied by Jerri Li. At a combined weight of 402 pounds, Christian St. Christian and Scatman, the Fetish Freaks!
Styles: Scatman, BOB's walking all-you-can-eat-buffet for flies! I guess I'll be flying solo here Drunken Idiots, as both of my broadcast partners are involved in this one. Scotty *ahem* managing, and Sarah competing. We've got a huge night ahead of us. Jerri Li will be in action against Tia Tarr, plus our huge main event match will feature Joe Bananas and Kobe Gyant against Entities of Destruction members Death and ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS Dr. Silaconne M. Plants.
Styles: If you've been following the Newz Zone, you know that March Mayhem 2009 is in full swing. Scatman and Sarah, who are both competing here, are in the Sweet & Sour Sixteen. One of them could actually become the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. Jerri Li is also still alive in the tournament, and she has an EXTREME side bet going on with Sir Zeno. If Jerri loses their match this weekend, she'll let Zeno do whatever he wants to her, but if Zeno loses, Jerri gets to…cut off…something of Zeno's.
Styles: We're ready to get this one underway. Scatman…Jerri?
Jerri Li: Hey, Styles.
Styles: You're joining me for color commentary? OH MY GOD!
JL: Here, put this apple in your mouth.
Styles: Mmph mmph?
Styles: Fwuh! (High-pitched) OHMYBALLS!
JL: You'll spank to me later. Well, it looks like Mikey's going to weep on the floor for a few minutes, so I'll handle the play-by-play here. Scatman and Sarah Whorebody to start us off. Lots of flippy stuff from Sarah. And there's a, can I say this on G5? A shhhhhh! Itkick. Yeah, the censors are dumbasses if they let that one through. Sarah working on Scatman's arm, and now stopping to ask if anybody has some toilet paper and hand sanitizer to wipe her hands with. Oh, just wait until you see what I have in store for you at Gluttons for Punishment 2, bitch. This is nothing.
JL: Scatman with a leapfrog, but Sarah with an ILLEGAL low blow. Vicky, I don't want to rip out strands of your pretty blonde hair. But I will. Sarah with a pin, but the ewww factor of Scatman makes her break up her own pin. Ah, you stupid twat. Scatman with a running knee. Tag in to Christian, who I understand has a "crush" on Sarah. Yes, newbies, Christian has a crush fetish. I'd love for him to crush Sarah right here and now.
JL: Christian up top. Diving spear, very nice. Christian sends her to the ropes, but that chicken Sarah tags out to Axl!
Styles (Off-mic): While you were angrily banging on the announce desk, you were also putting your six-inch heel through my glasses! Oh my GOD! I almost went blind.
JL: Almost? Quit complaining. Sarah grabs Christian. Superkick by Axl. Now Sarah with a slingshot catapult back breaker! Axl up top. Senton. Damn it. Axl with the cover, but Christian is out at two. Axl with a quick tag to Whorah. Double beal into the corner! Oh *BEEP*. Christian is on his head. Double corner dropkick by Axl and Sarah.
[Scotty applauds their efforts from ringside.]
JL: Scotty has a face that only a mother could drown. His mother must've died during childbirth.
Styles: That's some dark "humor" there, Jerri. *Ahem*
JL: How are your testicles, Styles?
Styles: Rather hurty, thanks for asking. Axl charges at Christian, but gets backdropped to the floor! Tag into Scatman. Christian with a hard kick the gut. Scatman–
JL: Scatman very much enjoys blumpkins.
Styles: He WHAT? Can we even say blumpkin on the air? Good lord. Christian with a DDT. Now Christian setting up Sarah on his shoulders. Oh no. We're about to see a mega-sized Sliced Bread Number Two. Emphasis on number two. Beautifully executed. Cover! One! Two! And NO! Sarah kicks out! Christian and Scatman aren't much for tags in this one. They're double teaming Sarah.
JL: Double teaming a girl is a valid lifestyle choice. Look at Sarah, hero of the poople.
Styles: Did you say people or poople?
JL: Poople. Laugh.
Styles: Bwahahaha! Very funny, Jerri!
JL: She's your top face? Now she's your top crap-covered face.
Styles: She is indeed wearing the dookie mask. Double clothesline by Christian and Scatman. And now Sarah's wearing the dookie scarf as well.
SW: C'mon, Vicky!
Styles: Scotty angry at the refereeing in this one now.
SW: Give me your phone number, honey!
Styles: Or not. His wife is getting pummeled and he's hitting on the referee? The Fetish Freaks whip Sarah to the ropes. Christian gets on Scatman's shoulders.
[Drunken Idiots pop.]
Styles: OH MY GOD! That was the biggest back body drop I've ever SEEN! But Sarah bounced so hard upon impact that she rolled right into Axl! We've got a tag! Springboard dropkick to Christian's gut. Axl uses Christian to launch himself into a tornado DDT on Scatman!
JL: Is Axl wrestling as a face? I think I'm going to puke. Do you have a cup I could borrow?
Styles: Axl's got Christian. Evil-Lution Bomb with authority! Scatman charges at Axl. He catches him.
JL: Is he dry humping Scatman? Did not need to see that. *vomits*
Styles: I'm not sure. I THINK he's trying to hit a belly-to-belly suplex, but it IS Axl…Belly to belly finally connects! Scatman to the corner, no! Axl hits the turnbuckles. Scatman charges, but Axl slides out between the ropes. Springboard Sinister Slice? OH MY GOD! What a move! ONE! TWO! NO! Christian broke it up just in time!
JL: Oh, hell no.
Styles: Where are you going? Sarah is heading up top, but Jerri just made a beeline for her. Oh no! Jerri just pushed Sarah, who gets crotched on the top rope! Now she's looking for a chair! Oh no!
Styles: OH MY GOD! She just blasted Sarah with that chair! Vicky Jean's calling for the DQ! Sarah and Axl are going to win this one via disqualification. The fans are going wild, cheering on Jerri.
Styles: And Jerri just blasted Axl with the chair as well! Oh my GOD! The Fetish Freaks now just beating the hell out of Sarah and Axl. Jerri's got Sarah! OH MY GOD! Tombstone piledriver on the chair! Somebody stop this!
Crowd: We don't want anyone! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* We don't want anyone! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* AWWW!
[The crowd boos as Pigeon runs into the ring wielding a stapler.]
Styles: Pigeon is here! He's shooting staples at the Freaks! And they're in retreat out of the ring! Damn! What a war that's going on here. One that will no doubt continue until Gluttons for Punishment 2, where I'm told that Sarah and Jerri will hook it up one last time with huge stakes. More details on this as I'm told. We'll be right back!
[Inside of the Entities of Destruction hotel suite, Kid Pirate and Death were seated around the television set.]
Death: Ohhhh! Holy *BEEP*!
Kid Pirate: That's almost as disgustin' as me crew member wit' th' wooden vagina. I wonder whaterehappened t' ol' Splinter McGillicutty...
[After the sound of a flush, Dr. Silaconne M. Plants rejoins his stablemates.]
SMP: What are you guys watching? iMPLOSION? What did Scatman do?
Death: Oh, it's not Scatman. It's something way sicker than Scatman.
SMP: Sicker than Scatman?
[SMP gets behind Death and Pirate.]
SMP: She has a penis?
Tostin Showers: She's a man, baby!
SMP: How did HE get in here?
Kid Pirate: He's got good weed.
Death: That's your secret admirer.
KP: One Night in Chyna's fake vagina. I always suspected Waltman be a homo.
Death: I think I figured it out, Plants. I think she's going to try and get a free pair of breasts out of you.
SMP: I HOPE that's all it is. One fag obsessing over me is enough.
SMP: Of course, who else? So, Death, are you ready for tonight? Kobe, Joe Bananas.
Death: Sure, I talked to Trey about the spots and the finish. Oh, hello camera! Didn't see you there! I was apparently temporarily blinded by this sex tape.
KP: Maybe she'll want ye t' kill th' lass' penis while ye're at 't. An' all them zits on th' lass' arse.
Death: You boys are handling this tape pretty well. Lesser men have puked.
KP: Things get desperate on th' Eight Seas. Octopussy may be a movie fer ye boys, but on th' Eight Seas, 'tis a way o' life. Ye erebeen on th' receivin' end o' an octopus treasure shot?
Death: Treasure shot?
SMP: Say what you will about the lower half, but you've gotta admire the top half. Her plastic surgeon was good.
Death: Well, if you do end up banging her, just make sure she leaves her pants on. Then it won't be quite as homo.
SMP: I'm not doing ANYTHING with Joanie Laurer or her man penis.
KP: Just turn th' lights off. I'll be waitin' in th' hade. We can swap.
Death: And I thought it was bad when Voss was writing your dialogue…
[“Enae Volare Mezzo” by Era plays. The Flunky whistles and hurls a handful of white powder into the air for some uber-cheap pyro.]
Styles: Welcome back to your actual job, Scotty.
NH: The following contest is set for one fall, and in this match there will be no disqualifications! Introducing first, from Yerevan, Armenia. Weighing in at 102 lbs… Tia Tarr!
SW: Holy baloney, a trampoline?!
Styles: I can only imagine what she is going to do with that.
SW: Pity about the skintight pink leotard. I swear only Bret Hart could pull that one off.
[“Holy Wars” by Megadeth plays. The Flunky sets off a firecracker.]
NH: And her opponent, from Intercourse, Pennsylvania. Weighing in at 123 lbs… Jerri Li!
Styles: Jerri Li, the soft metal of pro-wrestling. Easy to cut and explosive as hell.
SW: That was… weird.
Styles: Tia Tarr goes flying off that trampoline and hits Jerri damn near halfway up the entrance plank with a flying clothesline!
SW: Both of them have a screw loose!
Styles: Tia Tarr pulls Jerri Li up by the hair but gets elbowed in the gut. Jerri smashes Tia’s face against the Flimsy Guardrail™ before dragging her toward the ring in a headlock.
SW: She’s wining like a pig! These foreign girls have such sexy accents.
Styles: And Tia gets sent face-first into the wooden ring steps!
SW: She’ll get a splinter in her eye like that.
Styles: Jerri takes Tia up the steps and in through the ropes. Jerri drives a shoulder into the abdomen against the corner. She hauls Tia up onto the top rope and follows after her, but gets hit with a right hand and falls to the canvas with a loud thud. Tia spreads out like a flying squirrel in the air and lands a picture perfect splash. 1, 2 and Jerri kicks out with authority.
SW: Mr. Fantastic will be so pissed she stole his move. Or oiled, I dunno. Dumb Robocop wannabe.
Styles: Jerri back up now. Tia off the ropes and holds her arms out as she swings on a flying headscissors takedown. Amazing athleticism by the Armenian native who goes right back on the offensive, springboarding off the TOP rope for a lionsault. 1, 2, and Jerri kicks out again. Tia is dominant in the early goings of this match.
SW: I need another beer, I’ve only got a buzz.
Styles: Tia bolts up the corner to the top rope at lightning quick speed. She waits for Jerri to get up before flying through the air… but the crossbody attempt is caught mid-flight and Tia gets powerslammed to the canvas hard! Jerri raises a fist in the air in celebration.
SW: Oh, now that me and Sarah are splitting up I need to start sticking my johnson to someone else, you think Jerri would go for it if I promised to fist her up to my shoulder?
Styles: I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
SW: Then again she’d probably want me to break a milk bottle inside her first, and I ain’t driving into that warzone.
Styles: Yeuch. Anyway, there’s a match still in progress! Jerri scoops Tia up off the mat and onto her shoulder, trying for a powerbomb. Tia slides free down her back. They spin on their heels at the same time to face each other. Jerri with a boot and hooks both arms, taking her up and over with a double arm suplex.
SW: If I could just reshape a cheesegrater into a dildo you’d hear wedding bells Styles.
Styles: You’d only need a nutmeg grater. Jerri has Tia back up now and irish whips her into the turnbuckles so powerfully the metal bearings rattle and Tia ricochets backfirst to the canvas.
SW: That one had some venom on it.
Styles: Jerri swaggers across to Tia and lifts her up into the corner. Series of knife edge chops lights Tia up like a Christmas tree.
SW: You’re looking at her cleavage! You have to, right? For journalism reasons? Hehe.
Styles: Those chops were sharper than a butcher’s knife!
SW: You’d better hope her husband Rudolph doesn’t understand English.
Styles: *sigh* Can I just call the action for Christ’s sake? Chop to the side of the neck by Jerri. Tia staggers out of the corner, holding her neck in pain as Jerri taunts to the crowd. Scoops Tia up and drops her down across the knee with a vicious backbreaker.
SW: Give her a spanking!
Styles: Tia Tarr looks to be in a world of pain now. Jerri marches out of the ring and returns with a steel chair. She closes it around Tia’s head and takes a step back. She goes for an axe kick but Tia slides out under the bottom rope and pulls the weapon off herself, throwing it aside.
SW: Now she looks pissed, I’m guessing they didn’t have hardcore matches in Turkey or Bangladesh or wherever the hell she’s from.
Styles: It takes a lot of guts for anyone to fight Jerri without rules, no matter who they are. Jerri graciously takes a few steps back and allows Tia Tarr to climb back into the ring. Collar and elbow tie up, nice reversal by Tia into a chickenwing hold. She throws her legs up into the air, turns her body upside down, and rolls Jerri up into a sunset flip type hold. 1, 2, and Jerri kicks out.
SW: Blink and you’ll miss it.
Styles: Jerri rolls backwards, but as soon as she is on her feet Tia hooks her legs around her neck, spins on the back of her head, and takes Jerri over in a… a… I have no idea what that was, breakdance spinning hoodancanrana?
SW: I wouldn’t worry about it Styles, I can’t make heads or tails of it either.
Styles: Both competitors up at the same time, Jerri goes for a clothesline but Tia ducks under and runs to the ropes, crossbody attempt caught. Jerri shows a great deal of strength, throwing Tia up to her shoulders… but Tia counters mid-air and snaps Jerri into a pin with a regular hoodancanrana. 1, 2, and a kick out before 3.
SW: Is this wrestling or Cirque du Soleil?
Styles: Jerri looks absolutely furious at being outwitted, she’s practically foaming at the mouth. She climbs out through the ropes, leaving Tia standing there, and starts throwing steel chairs into the ring.
SW: And she’s setting up a table on the outside!
Styles: Tia Tarr thinks on her feet, standing a steel chair up near the ropes. She runs off the opposite side, hops onto the chair, then onto the top rope… but Jerri has long since walked away down the other side of the ring. Tia backflips back onto her feet and taunts to the crowd.
SW: Jerri Li is hitting herself in the head with a steel chair!
Styles: Jerri in the ring now with that chair. Tia tries to grapple her but gets the edge of that chair rammed right into her shins. Jerri closes the chair around Tia’s leg and hits a sickening shincrusher. Picks up another chair and tries her damndest to crush that leg, the sound of steel hitting steel echoing throughout the arena. Jerri looking toward that table on the outside as she hauls Tia up. Looking for a powerbomb again. Tia slides out for a second time, but lands like her legs were made out of jell-o. Jerri grabs a chair and uses it to chopblock the back of Tia’s knee.
SW: She has picked her spot and is going after it like a wild animal. I just wish she had picked her leotard to go after.
Styles: Jerri attacks as Tia squirms around, stomping the legs, stomach, back and head. She pulls her up by her hair, sends her to the ropes, and slams her down hard with a samoan drop.
SW: She isn’t samoan, remember? It’s a, wherever the hell SHE’S from drop.
Styles: She’s American.
SW: American drop, now that’s a move name!
Styles: Jerri drags Tia back to her feet after landing that American drop and whips her into the corner. She heaves her up onto the top rope, but gets slapped right across the face. Tia connects with a tornado DDT! She’s still hobbling on that leg, but she improvises with a celestial splash corkscrewed out of into a senton. 1, 2, and no! Goes for another, but this time turns it into a second rope reverse 450. 1, 2, 3NO! Jerri only just gets the shoulder up in time!
SW: It’s like watching an old VHS tape on fast forward, only the other competitor is still on play.
Styles: Jerri smartly took out most of Tia’s arsenal by taking her leg away from her. She doesn’t seem to have much of a choice and goes for the weaponry. Steel chair cracked across Jerri’s head as she rises to her feet, but she barely even flinches and continues to stand up.
SW: I doubt a chairshot is gonna do much to someone who has described their biggest goal in life as being skinned alive.
Styles: That’s creepy. Anyway, Jerri again hardly reacts off a second chairshot. Tia kicks her in the gut, drops the chair, and hits a ‘laying the smackdown’ ddt onto the steel.
SW: Shouldn’t The Great use that move?
Styles: Nah, they took it out the game.
SW: Oh, I could only afford ‘In Your House.’
Styles: Tia is already half way up the turnbuckles as Jerri stands. She snatches up a chair and just throws it at Tia’s head. She follows up the ropes and hooks her on the top, lifts her up and… superplex connects onto the steel chairs! Jerri rolls out of the ring. She’s looking for something under the ring. She’s got a can of gasoline and a box of matches!
SW: The hell?
Styles: She hops up onto the apron and douses her arm in gas! Now she’s heading up top! I don’t like the looks of this.
SW: Neither do I. I wish she had substituted that arm for a white t-shirt.
Styles: Her arm goes up in flames! Oh my God! Burning Elbow! That’s Kevin The Pyromaniac’s old move!
SW: She must be jealous he got to melt.
Styles: 1, 2, and no! Tia still able to get the shoulder up!
SW: Hardly surprising, nobody has ever been pinned by that move in BOB.
Styles: Jerri is arguing with the referee, accusing her of counting too slow. Out of nowhere Tia hooks her from behind and rolls her up with a schoolboy. 1, 2, Jerri kicks out! That may have been all Tia had left.
[Jerri angrily forces Tia between her legs and lifts her up onto her shoulders.]
Styles: Holy crap! She just powerbombed Tia Tarr right on the back of her head! She could be paralyzed, or worse!
SW: She could form a tag team with Stephen Hawking.
Styles: That’s not funny Scotty, she could be seriously injured! Oh, but Jerri doesn’t care. Pulls Tia limp body over to the ropes and pulls her out onto the apron above that table. Don’t do it!
SW: I don’t think anything is going to stop her.
Styles: OH MY GYAD! TOMBSTONE THROUGH THE TABLE OFF THE RING APRON! 1, 2, 3!
NH: Here is your winner… Jerri Li!
SW: That was a falls count anywhere match?
Styles: Tia Tarr may be dead, who cares about the rules of the match? Jerri just has a sick smile on her face as she raises her arms in victory.
[In a hallway of the Riviera, Kay Fabe was standing by with Joe Bananas and Kobe Gyant.]
KF: I'm standing between a white girl's fantasy right here. Joe Bananas. Kobe Gyant. Joe B and Kobe. It's the Gyant Bananas. Boys, the question of my mind has to be, where are we going later?
Kobe Gyant: Wow, settle down, girl! Joe Bananas and myself have some business to handle first against SMP and Death. Last time, we proved that the banana is mightier than the scalpel and the scythe combined, girl! And tonight, y'all get a preview of Gluttons for Punishment 2, where I'll be ascending to the WORLD TITLE. It's gonna be like that one time I made a shot off the expressway, over the river, off a billboard, through the window, and nothing but net! Jordan stole that from me, yo! And Joe, I just hope that you'll come back at GFP and show these fools how it's done, when you win the Boring Bumble match.
KF: Joe, what do you say? Will you enter GFP2 for the shot at becoming the number one contender, or even winning a BOB title?
KG: (Cupping his hands to his mouth) One more match! One more match! One more match!
Joe Bananas: Sure, why not. At least then someone around here can at least give Kobe a run for his money.
KG: And I got alotta money, son!
JB: No doubt, mon! Death, SMP, you boys are just entities among gyants! Get ready to step into the Bananas Republic.
SW: Nice perfume, Sarah. Eau de poopoo in de toilette?
Sarah: I showered twice.
SW: Well, at least Trey can you never say again that you can't draw flies.
Styles: We're back! It's main event time!
["He Got Game" by Public Enemy hits. The crowd boos.]
NH: Ladies and gentlemen, this is your iMPLOSION main event tag team match. Introducing first, at a combined length of hubba hubba! Weight! I meant weight of 480 pounds. From Kingston Jamaica and Los Santos, this is Joe Bananas and Kobe Gyant, they have Gyant Bananas!
Styles: I think Heidi meant to say they ARE Gyant Bananas.
Sarah: Her statement was still accurate.
Styles: Kobe and Joe have a huge challenge tonight in facing the reigning ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS SMP and a former OWCTM.
SW: Don't forget, SMP was the second-ever Grand Slam Champion to hold every BOB title at once. Plus Death has held every singles title at some point during his BOB career.
["Symphony of Destruction" by Megadeth then plays. Cameras go to black and white as Dr. Silaconne M. Plants and Death head out to loud cheers from the Drunken Idiots.]
NH: And their opponents. Representing the Entitties of Destruction. From the Netherworld, this is Death! And his partner, from Naples, Italy, he is the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, DR. SILACONNE M. PLANTS!
SW: *Snort* Heidi sure does have some nice entitties.
[The camera return to color as SMP and Death enter the ring.]
Drunken Idiots: Show your Entitties! Show your Entitties! Show your Entitties.
Styles: Crowd all over Heidi's faux pas.
SW: I'd love to faux pas her.
Sarah: So glad this sham of a marriage is almost over.
SW: I could've been the best husband you've ever had.
Sarah: You're the ONLY husband I've ever had.
SW: See? I'm the best!
Sarah: Sure. You rock my world.
Styles: Kobe and SMP are going to start this off.
SW: Wow. Usually they avoid letting the guys main eventing the next On-Demand square off until near the end of the match to build heat. Who's booking this crap? He seriously needs his head examined.
Sarah: TNA mocks us.
Styles: To be fair, I doubt TNA even knows we exist. Otherwise, they would've had a fit over Eliza being in March Mayhem.
Sarah: Poor Shannon. The Governor?
SW: Kay Fabe's calling for you, Sarah. Which is odd, because usually she's calling me.
Styles: Kobe and SMP with a collar and elbow tie up! Kobe with the strength advantage gets SMP into the corner. Clean break by Kobe. Low blow by SMP!
SW: BWAHAHAHA! Rookie.
Styles: SMP with a side headlock. SMP goes for the ride. Leaping, twisting punch by Kobe. That was interesting.
Sarah: It was some sort of slam dunk, but instead of slamming a ball into a net, he slammed his fist in SMP's head.
Styles: Kobe lifting up SMP now.
SW: The hell is he doing?
[The crowd begins waving various objects, trying to distract Kobe from hitting his next move.]
Styles: Free Throw Slam! That's his variation of a gorilla press slam. SMP's back up and charges at Kobe. Chop!
Drunken Idiots: BOOOOOBS!
Styles: Another chop!
Drunken Idiots: BOOOOOBS!
SW: Is somebody flashing?
Sarah: I know you're a little slow, but they're parodying "wooooo!"
SW: Ohhhh. Boobs.
Styles: Kobe trying for another Free Throw Slam, but SMP slips behind Kobe. Clothesline attempt misses. Beautiful dropkick by the big man. Tag in to Joe Bananas now. SMP trying to bait Bananas into coming to the corner.
Sarah: Scotty tried that crap on me.
SW: My bed's in the corner.
Styles: I got it, thanks. Lock up. SMP with a go-behind. Joe with a go-behind. Oh no! Crossface chickenwing. OHMYGOD! Coconut Crusher '03 on the CHAMP! COVER! ONE! TWO! No! Death makes the save. Somehow, SMP is back on his feet. SMP charges, but Bananas nails him with a clothesline. Clothesline. And a third clothesline sends SMP to the floor!
Sarah: Death is trying to kill the heck out of Joe here, but Vicky's blocking him.
SW: Why doesn't he just kill her?
Sarah: Shut your brain off, Scotty. It's wrestling.
Styles: Kid Pirate just ran in and nailed Bananas with a chair.
SW: Is that chair wearing a T-shirt?
Sarah: That's not just any chair. That's Steel Chair! And it's wearing an EOD T-shirt!
SW: Steel Chair is EOD?
Styles: At least for tonight. Kobe's got a giant plastic banana from under the ring! Kobe chasing off Kid Pirate and Steel Chair.
SW: My brain hurts.
Styles: SMP crawls back inside now. Cover on Bananas! One! Two! No! Bananas kicks out. Plants rolling Bananas toward the ropes now. SMP to the floor. He's got Bananas.
Styles: OH MY GOD! Nipple Cutter on the floor!
SW: Joe and Kobe should add Black Chair to their team.
Sarah: You're so racist. If they were Indians, would you say they should add Red Chair?
Styles: Death and SMP combine to get Bananas back inside. Kobe's back. SMP choosing not to go for the pin here and instead dish out some pain on Kobe's partner. And here comes Death. He's about to see his first action here. Knee lift! Another knee lift. And a third. Snake eyes! Big bony foot! One! Two! No!
SW: Is he trying to bore Joe to death with these moves?
Styles: Death drops the elbow.
SW: Hey! Kobe's in illegally!
Styles: Superstar Kick!
Sarah: I think Death's jaw just went flying into the crowd.
Styles: Unfortunately, that didn't end up buying Joe any time, because that kick sent Death right into his own corner to Plants could tag himself in. Kobe jumps over Vicky Jean! Oh my GOD! DRIBBLER CROSSFACE ON PLANTS LOCKED IN!
SW: He's not legal! Just like half the white girls Kobe sleeps with.
Styles: SMP with a rollthrough! Cover! One! Two! Kobe breaks the hold and gets out of the reversal. And finally, Vicky gets Kobe out of the ring. SMP quickly goes after Bananas. Medigree coming up! No! Joe with a reversal. OH MY GOD! Coconut Crusher! Absolutely amazing reversal by Joe Bananas, who desperately needs to tag in Kobe here.
[That's when Steel Chair, still wearing its EOD T-shirt, rappelled from the crow's nest of the pirate ship into Death's hands via a zip line. HUGE pop!]
SW: Did I drop acid before this match? Did I just see a frickin' Steel Chair pull a Sting entrance?
Sarah: Death unhooking the EOD's newest member-slash-weapon.
Styles: Death is in.
SW: Watch out!
Styles: SPRINGBOARD VAN HORNINATOR by Kobe! Steel Chair, meet Death's skull!
Sarah: The EOD must have brought in Steel Chair because they remember the war Kobe had with the 4 Steelchairs last year. I wonder if Steel Chair has any useful intel on Kobe.
SW: You should be ashamed of yourself for reading that last line.
Sarah: I feel dirty.
SW: Dirty enough for one pity *BEEP*?
Styles: This match is just chaotic. SMP is back up. He grabs Steel Chair now. He charges at Kobe and swings. Misses! Van Horninator attempt misses! Medigree onto the chair? No! Low blow by Kobe!
Sarah: Joe's setting up Death up top. Death Lake Driver!
Styles: Kobe heading up top, no doubt looking to end this one with an Shooting All-Star Press! OH MY GOD! SMP grabbed Steel Chair and Kobe landed very ugly there.
Sarah: I'd forsake those sweet new shoes I've been saving up for to see this one-on-one match in a cage.
SW: You'll be there anyway. You don't have to pay.
Sarah: Oh, yay!
Styles: Our fans will!
Sarah: Oh, right. My bad!
Styles: SMP flattens Steel Chair on the mat, but here comes Joe Bananas. He's looking to hit another big move on Plants! SMP with a reversal and oooooh, Joe gets crotched on the top rope!
SW: Not so great having a "gyant" banana now, is it?
Styles: OH MY GOD! SMP is dragging Bananas along the top rope!
SW: Rope burn city! Forget Joe Bananas. Now he's Joe Cockburn. Yowza!
Styles: What was that? Kid Pirate! Sonofabitch! He just smashed a bottle of rum over Kobe's skull behind everyone's back.
Sarah: Oh, come on Vicky. Don't make all us blondes look as dumb as you. See the glass. Comprehend the glass.
Styles: Plants quickly grabs Kobe. Medigree on the glass!
Drunken Idiots: HOLY CRAP! HOLY CRAP! HOLY CRAP!
Styles: COVER! ONE! TWO! THREE! DAMNIT!
NH: Ladies and gentlemen, here are your winners, the EOD, Dr. Silaconne M. Plants and Death!
Styles: The EOD just absolutely STOLE this victory.
SW: But more importantly, they destroyed Joe Bananas and Kobe Gyant. Joe's crotch will never be the same again, and neither will Kobe's face! Bwahahaha!
Styles: Death just unloaded on Joe with Steel Chair. He tosses the chair to Plants. One more shot on Kobe, who's busted from that glass. Fans, this is disgusting. We'll be back. Vicky Jean's public spanking is next.
["Not All Who Wander are Lost" by DevilDriver is playing as we return to the ballroom.]
NH: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome BOB's Executive Producer, Trey Vincent!
[A smiling Vincent steps out, soaks up the mixed reaction of the crowd, and then walks the plank and gets in the ring. Heidi hands him the mic before leaving the ring. The announcers are silent for some odd reason. This could only mean one thing: Impending Drama Alert™!]
TV: Hello, Sin City!
Drunken Idiots: Booooo!
TV: Hmm. Not bad. Um. It's great to be RIGHT HERE in Sin City!
Drunken Idiots: BOOOOOOOO!
TV: Better. The Executive Producer…is…here!
Drunken Idiots: BOOOOOOOOOOO!
TV: All right, let's get onto business. Two weeks ago–
[The Drunken Idiots laugh.]
TV: Stop breaking kayfabe! Now, TWO WEEKS AGO!
[The Drunken Idiots laugh.]
TV: Trey Vincent promised two things. First, a public spanking of Vicky Jean.
Drunken Idiots: PUBIC SPANKING! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* PUBIC SPANKING! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap* PUBIC SPANKING! *Clap, clap, clapclapclap*
TV: No, that's what Trey Vincent will be doing to her AFTER the show. That spanking will be in this very ring, over these very knees, with this very hand, on this very night, on her very ass, in this very city, in this very state, in this very country, on this very planet, in this very galaxy! And second, Trey Vincent promised the return of a BOB icon to help Trey Vincent draw names for the next two editions of iMPLOSION for randomly drawn title matches. So, Drunken Idiots, please welcome back…the Medium-Sized Bucket!
["Hell In a Bucket" by Grateful Dead plays. Vicky Jean, dressed in her usual low-cut white and black striped referee mini-dress, as well as knee-high black high-heeled boots, carries the Medium-Sized Bucket down the plank, hands it to Vincent, then reluctantly gets in the ring. While they made their entrance, Vincent set up a steel chair in the middle of the ring to sit on. Vincent sets down the bucket behind the chair and takes a seat.]
TV: Damn, you're looking absolutely spanktastic tonight. Now Vicky, it's really simple. You're going to lift up that dress…
[Drunken Idiots cheer.]
TV: Bend over…
[Drunken Idiots cheer.]
TV: And prepare for the butt bongoing of a lifetime!
[Drunken Idiots cheer. Vicky smiles widely. To the delight of Vincent and the rest of the crowd, she turns around right in front of him and then slowly bends over, revealing all her assets to the camera side of the crowd and Vincent. Cameras flash. Trey digs for his own cell phone to get a pic and gets one. Then slowly, Vicky stands back up, spins around to face him, then straddles the Executive Producer in lap dance fashion. After a few grinds, and then shoving Vincent's face into her cleavage, the crowd is popping huge (and so is Vincent, natch).
In the background, Steve Studnuts easily hops the Flimsy Guardrail™ unnoticed, climbs on the pirate ship, and gets in the ring. Vincent is so distracted he has no clue what's happening. Vicky has hitched up her dress so as to appear as though she's going along with Vincent. Studnuts spies the Medium-Sized Bucket, grabs it, dumps out several Hooters playing cards, winds up and—]
[Knockout blow. Vincent slumps over and Vicky slaps him.]
[Shot after shot into Vincent's skull! The Drunken Idiots are marking out like teenagers as blood begins to pour down Vincent's face.]
[Vincent finally collapses to the mat, unmoving. Studnuts holds up the bloody bucket, getting a giant pop from the crowd.]
Woman's Screaming Voice (Offscreen): Noooooooooo! Nooooooo! Stop! Please!
[Michelle, BOB's Head Writer, runs down the plank and runs into the ring. Michelle gets down on her knees, pleading with Studnuts to stop the assault on her ex-husband. Hmm. Guess there are still some feelings there after all… Laughing, Studnuts drops the Medium-Sized Bucket. Michelle crawls over and…um…grabs the bucket? The HELL? Michelle begins caressing the bucket and hugging it?]
Michelle: It'll be OK, Bucket, it'll be OK. CAN I GET SOME HELP! NOW!
[Fake-a-medics run down with a backboard and begin tending to the bashed-up bucket as Studnuts, Vicky and the crowd look on confused by this development. Studnuts grabs the Bucket, steps back, and punts the Bucket somewhere deep into the crowd, which gets another big pop from the heel-loving Sin City fans. After screaming in horror, Michelle yells at the medics to chase after the bucket. They all leave the ring.
Studnuts still isn't done with the bloody Executive Producer of BOB. He drags up Vincent, and sets him up on his shoulders. Death Valley (of the Sun) Driver! Another big pop from the crowd. Then it's time to add a little insult to injury. Fuck Knuckle Shuffle time. Studnuts bounces off the ropes, simulates jerking off on Trey, then points at Vicky, who charges forward and kicks Vincent in the balls as Studnuts finishes off the FKS! Vicky raises Studnuts' hand in "victory" and the two stand over an unconscious Trey Vincent celebrating as we fade to black.]
[We return to the BOB Ballroom. The ring is empty, but a big bloodstain remains on the mat where Trey Vincent was just assaulted. "Symphony of Destruction" by Megadeth plays. The crowd erupts as the Entities of Destruction make their way out. The camera goes to black and white while the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, Acting BigBOSS and Swiss Army Belt champ Kid Pirate, and Death make their way down the plank and into the ring. The trio is obviously still happy over what happened earlier tonight. Once they hit the ring, we return to color.]
SW: Isn't anybody going to say anything about how AWESOME that last segment was?
Styles: Studnuts just beat a human being into unconsciousness. We had to stop taping this show for a half hour to get Vincent medical attention before they could even move him out of the ring, which is still covered in his blood. And that's AWESOME?
SW: Yeah it is!
Sarah: I fear you.
Drunken Idiots: EOD! EOD! EOD!
SMP: (Pointing at the blood) Well, that couldn't have happened to a bigger dickhead.
[Drunken Idiots cheer. SMP hands the mic off to Kid Pirate.]
KP: Trey Vincent be supposed t' do th' random drawin', but since he's a bit unconscious at th' moment, that responsibility falls t' th' Actin' BigBOSS, me. Four title matches, five chances t' win. Plus, th' Great American Bash Axl's Skull In Match!
SMP: Can I get my name in the hat for that?
KP: Why dasn't ye jus' focus on beatin' American Panda this weekend in March Mayhem an' let me worry about th' bookin'.
Death: You know…If you need me to lend a finger, just let me know, buddy.
SMP: Yeah. Looks like you should have an easy old time against the newest Head Trauma Boy, Trey.
KP: Starboard then, let's get on wi' 't. We're almost ou' o' time. Sea dogs an' land lubbers on th' active roster be assigned a card value. But Trey had that list, so I smartly wrote down sea dogs an' land lubbers's names an' be havin' tossed them in me hat. Our first drawin' be fer a shot against Dr. Silaconne M. Plants asterisk fer th' ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.
Death: Asterisk? Are you implying that SMP might somehow not retain the title in the March Mayhem tourney, Kid?
KP: Yes. An' th' winner be…Sarah Whatbody?
Styles: Oh my GOD! The former TWO-TIME ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS against reigning ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS SMP! That should be EXTREME!
SW: Wow. My wife, a champion. Would you job to Axl in exchange for a divorce if you win?
Sarah: Hahahahahahaha! Ahahahahaha!
Styles: Scotty, you already agreed to the divorce. It's a little late.
SW: I could reconsider. I'm a dick.
KP: Now fer a shot against th' Actin' BigBOSS myself fer th' Swiss ARRRRRmy Belt! An' th' winner be…Kobe Gyant?
[Drunken Idiots boo.]
Styles: OH MY GOD! Again! That's HUGE!
Sarah: Kobe's johnson?
KP: Now fer a shot against Hamster Girl fer th' hARRRRdcore title…An' th' winner be…Davy Jones' locker!
Death: You like me! You really like me! And Kid, seriously man, my name is DEATH, not Davy Jones' locker!
KP: And our final title match, against Th' Great an' Pete Trable fer th' Nay Good Enough t' Swashbuckle Alone Tag Titles. Th' winners be…Steve Studnuts! …An' Christian St. Christian!
SW: I can see their team name already: Crushed 'Nuts.
KP: And our final match. Great American Bash In Axl's Skull Match. Who will Axl face? An' th' winner be…Jerri Li!
Styles: Scotty, what are the rules to that match exactly?
SW: Oh, it's awesome! Jerri has 10 chair shots available to her. She gets to hit Axl ten times in the head during the match, and that's all she can hit him with. If Axl falls down after any shot, and can't make it back up by a count of 10, he loses. If Axl is still standing after the 10th shot, then he wins.
Sarah: And your goal with this match is…?
SW: To toughen up the kid. If he wants an ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS match, he's going to have to get tougher. I was hoping Studs would win this one, but Jerri is definitely going to do some damage. Flaming chairs? Barbed wire chairs? Cheesegrater chairs? I can't wait to see what she comes up with!
Sarah: This is BOB. Why does "toughness" matter?
SW: OK, maybe I'm just doing it to amuse myself. Worst case scenario: he gets severe brain injuries and he's forced to retire from BOB.
Sarah: Are you sure that's worst case?
SW: Best case scenario, he survives. And he starts figuring out what it takes to be a main eventer, Scotty Whatbody style!
© 2009 BOB Wrestling! Cross the Lame!
Styles: Unbelievable. The next two iMPLOSIONs are set to be historic as we get closer to Gluttons for Punishment 2! Anything can happen! Fans, order Gluttons for Punishment 2! And join us again in two weeks for more iMPLOSION! Good night everybody!