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CLASSIX 3!

¿Nehh... cuál está para arriba, doc?

(Attack of the killer B-Roster!)

[The BOB CLASSIX ultra-cheap titles appear on screen, along with the sound of Coma singing "Living La Vida Loca" in German. Fade to the CLASSIX desk. It's been set up in the parking lot of the BOB Corporate Offices in Havoc, West Virginia. Coma has an old-fashioned bicycle horn duct-taped to his forehead.]

GBH: Duh. Hello.

Coma: NEEP!

[He headbutts the table.]

A-HOO-GA!

Coma: Hee hee hee... bunji frogs!

THUMP

A-HOO-GA!

GBH: Duh. Right. Guest today. Um. Is That. Um. Little Guy. Yur. Hardcore JJ.

(The Cookie jar shatters and "Hell Froze Over" begins to play as the vertically-challenged youngster arrives in shot.)

Coma: Why do the clocks run backwards in Dakota? FIRE THE CHICKENS! Poink?

JJ: What!

GBH: Duh. Yur. You want to. Um. Wrestle in BOB? Yur.

JJ: Thats right I want to wrestle...but first I'm gonna drink 1 Pepsi...2 Pepsis...3 Pepsis...4 Pepsis...eat a peanut butter and Banana sandwich...and change my pull-ups, What! I said put on some clean pull-ups, What! I said I'm a big kid now! You're damn right I am gonna wrestle.

Coma: Enchiladas to starboard! Never fondle a wildeebeast, they're pointy!

CAPTION: On to our first match and it involves Kamikazie Ken and Yours Truely.

Coma: Moonballoons!

CAPTION: Enjoy!

THUMP!

A-HOO-GA!


[Cut to the Pondscum Arena, in Pondscum, Minnesota. What could loosely be called a "crowd" is going bananas as "The Ride Of The Valkyries" plays. Why? Because Wagner is BOB for "Insane Violence". (As opposed to the real world, where Wagner means five hours of overweight women singing about how they've just fallen in love/been rejected in love/been fataly stabbed etc.) Kamikaze Ken suddenly flies down the aisle. Literally, as he unwisely decided to use the crowd-pleasing, though Illegal-in-nine-states "Human Cannonball" entrance. He demolishes the Spanish Anounce table with his head, sending the Spanish Announcer flying. Luckily, the Spanish Anouncer was Insano Mano, so a big pop results, and a costly lawsuit doesn't. Mano, slightly concussed, staggers over and takes a seat at the English Announce Desk.]

Dennis: What ho, old chap! Come to join me for a spot of the old biffo, what? Good show!

[Mano gives Dennis a strange look and staggers over to the AMERICAN Announcer table.]

SW: Looks like we're being joined by Insano Mano, folks!

NH: This should be interesting...

IM: ¡Scotty, mi amigo! ¿Usted vio esa mierda? ¿Qué el infierno Ken está fumando hoy?

[Scotty looks at Mano, then at the camera with a frozen smile.]

SW: Ummm. Si?

NH: Oh, brother. (To IM) Scotty es un moron, Insano... y no habla español.

IM: Noté.

MA: Y sus opuestos... Oops. And his opponent... from Parts Forgotten.... THE HEAD TRAUMA BOY.... COMA!

Voice-Over: ONETWOTHREEFOUR!

[Over the tinny speakers of the arena a thrash-metal version of the song "I'm A Little Teapot" plays, with the lyrics being shouted by the Li'lBOSS.]

SW: What the hell? Did Coma get creative control again?

[Cut to the BigBOSS. He has a bicycle horn taped to his forehead.]

BB: Yes. Sorry.

[He falls over.]

THUMP!

A-HOO-GA!

[Cut back to ringside. At least, an animated version of ringside. Scotty Whatbodys head appears to be inflating like a balloon, while Nurse Heidi has been reduced to a stick figure. Insano Mano is now a crudely-drawn Bugs Bunny.]

IM: ¿Nehh... cuál está para arriba, doc.?

SW: I feel so funky...

[In the ring, by the power of bad animation, Coma has become Coma The Barbarian, while Ken has been flattened by a 16-ton weight.]

Coma: Crom! Count the antelopes in my soup! I'll be Bach!

[Instant cut to the "real" ring. Coma is dressed like a 17th-century composer, and is wielding a violin bow like a sword. Ken has donned an eight-inch high powdered wig on top of his mask, and holds a tambourine like a shield.]

NH: Oh, this is going to be _such_ a long night...

Coma: Dance naked in MY radishes, will you? Take THIS!

KK: OW!

SW: Ooh, Coma is going ballistic on Ken with that violin bow! Ken tries to deflect the shots but to no avail! He quickly rolls out of the ring!

IM: Él es justo tomando un resto, Scotty. ¡Adelantado, Ken! ¡Golpee su asno con el pie, compinche!

NH: Ken is searching under the ring for a weapon... an he finds... Scuzz?

SW: YES! It's our former wino-turned-ring-announcer, Scuzz, who appeared to be napping under the ring! And look at Ken go to work with him! He's brutalising Comas' much-abused skull with Scuzz!

Scuzz: Hey, m'n... qui' it... Ow! Ow!

THUMP!

SW: And there goes Scuzz to the floor!

Scuzz: OW! Hey, I foun'a nickel!

[The screen suddenly goes sepia-toned, and the action in the ring speeds up by a third. Jaunty piano music plays as Coma ricochets off the ropes and hits a flying forearm on Ken.]

SW: ...

[Cut to a 20's-style dialogue card. It reads;] Scotty: Gosh! Spiffing move by Coma!

Nurse Heidi: Indeed!

[Cut to ringside again]

NH: ...

IM: ...?

[Title Card] Insane Hands: ¿Qué el infierno va en aquí?

[Back to ringside. A tray full of pies is in the ring. Coma selects one and hits Ken in the face with it. Ken throws a pie back at Coma, who ducks. The pie hits the Generic Ref in the face. He picks up a pie and retaliates, missing by six feet and hitting Scotty Whatbody instead.]

[Title Card] Scotty: CRAP!

[Back at ringside, Ken chases Coma out of the arena in fast-motion. In the street, a fire engine races by. The Kent State Krew are clinging to the bumper. Cut to Marcel Marceu in France.]

MM: (Audibly) NON!

[Cut to an Alpine slope. Sarah the Jobber Slayer, Kay Fabe, Xamfir and Styles are making a snowman. Suddenly, the snowman moves slighty. The snow falls off its' face, revealling the aggrieved face of Little Good.]

LG: You bloody bastards!

[Suddenly, Coma skis by at high speed.]

Coma: Poooooooiiiiiiiiiinnnnnk!

Styles: (Looking off-screen) OH MY GOD!

[Kamikazie Ken races into shot on a snowboard. He crashes into Little Good at about 45mph, sending clumps of snow flying everywhere. One splats into the camera, turning the shot completely white.]

Caption: NO STUNTMEN WERE HARMED DURING THE SHOOTING OF THIS SEQUENCE.

Little Goods Voice: You bloody tosser!

Another caption: BECAUSE KEN AND LITTLE GOOD TOOK THE BUMP.

[Cut to 1950's stock footage of Old Faithful erupting at Yellowstone Park. After forty seconds of this, we cut to a plush, well-appointed gentlemens' club. Coma and Ken are sitting on opposite sides of a large chessboard.]

Ken: Knight to B4. Check.

IM: ¡Ooh, él está utilizando la explosión de la ofensiva de Rickenbackers! ¡Un qué movimiento devastador!

[Coma studies the board at length. Finally, he produces a large keilbasa sausage and sends all the chessmen flying with a wild swing.]

Coma: SNAP! Go fish, I'm on third and 14! Hike!

[Ken picks up the chessboard and clouts Coma over the head with it. Cut

to a pristine beach in Southern California. Most of the BOB roster are waxing down surfboards, while surrounded by a gaggle of surfer chicks in 1960's-era swimsuits. An announce table has been set up on the sand. Scotty and Insano Manos' shirts are so brightly colored they're making the camera flare. Nurse Heidi wears an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, yellow-polka-dot bikini. Of course.]Scotty: (Offering Heidi a flower garland) Fancy a lei, Heidi?

NH: Pig!

[She punches him in the face]

[The Geek arrives in shot, wearing insanely baggy boardshorts.]

The Geek: Come on, fellas, let's shoot the tubes! Cowabunga, and all that!

Bohemoth: Hey, LOOK! It's Dick Kent and The Dickents! Let's twist!

[The camera pans right to a makeshift stage. The Kent State Krew are on-stage, wearing matching grey suits and thin ties. Jim has a guitar, Josh is playing bass, Brandon is behind a huge drum-kit and Da Sassy Bitch is on the organ. The electric piano, people! Get your mind out of the gutter! They begin to play a catchy, though instantly forgettable surf-ditty called "I Wish They All Could Be Adolescent Girls". The BOB-sters get up and begin dancing to the song. Keen-eyed viewers will notice that the only BOB-ster not present is douja, because '60s beach movies were generally a caucasian-only zone.]

IM: ¡Sacudáralo, Heidi! ¡Sí! ¡El bebé consiguió detrás! ¡Tengo gusto de extremos grandes, y usted me conoce no puede mentir!

[Coma suddenly runs into shot and tries to hide in the crowd. Ken appears on stage and takes a running leap into the crowd.]

Ken: STAGE-DIVVVVE!

[A huge, cartoonish brawl breaks out, with wacky sound effects and punches that miss by an average of three inches. Don Rickles can briefly be spotted putting Sillicone M Plants in a headlock. Cut to the Pondscum Arena once more.]

SW: Man, the BOSSes have _got_ to stop letting Coma book his own matches. At least we're back to normal...

[Ken suddenly leaps into the rafters, aided by the classic kung-fu film technique of running the film backwards.]

IM: Y entonces, otra vez... quizá no.

[Ken leaps from the rafters with a Reverse 1080 Ken-Ton Bomb. In the ring, Coma opens a tiny umbrella and holds it above his head protectivly.]

SPLINTERING SOUNDS OF RING-RENDING VIOLENCE!

[There is silence for a few seconds. Finally, Styles runs into shot, breathing heavily.]

Styles: *puff* *pant*... *gasp*... OH MY GOD!!

NH: I'll say! The force of Kens' move has actually driven both men through the Earths' crust! I don't believe this!

[Cut to Austrlia. Ken and Coma burst out of the ground, startling a nearby Aborigine.]

Aborigine: Bloody hell. You blokes all right?

Coma: Neep! There's no fool like an old fool, but I'm only 87! Zap them, Bulwinkle!

[He grabs a digireedoo and hammers Ken with it.]

Aborigine: Whatever you say, mate... But that's not how you play that, eh?

[Cut to stock footage of Godzilla destroying a Japanese city. A few seconds later we cut to the studio of a game show. A sign identifies it as "Wheel of Exploding Weasels". The Geek, Kay Fabe and Brandon are sitting at desks. (Isn't it amazing that the majority of people making repeated cameos in this overly-silly match are the same ones that rol... make promos the most? Eerie co-incidence, huh?) The light on the Geeks' desk has lit up.]

Gameshow Host: The Geek?

The Geek: That was "Godzilla vs The Interstellar Grasshoppers", 1965, Fitsumaji Studios, directed by Yakatori Soysourse.

Gameshow Host: CORRECT!

[A cut-away shot shows Scotty, Insano and Heidi holding up "APPLAUSE" signs. Cue a burst of cheering from the studio audience.]

Gameshow Host: And now, Mr Geek, you get to...

Audience: SPIN THE WHEEL!

[The Geek jumps up and down excitedly, then give a nearby wheel a huge spin.]

CLICKCLICKCLICKclickclick..click...click....click.....click......

Weasel: Eep!

BANG!

Gameshow Host: Congratulations, Mr Geek! You've won a years supply of rasberry pudding!

The Geek: All RIGHT!

DING!

[Kays light goes on.]

Gameshow Host: Yes, Kay?

Kay: I'm a red-headed lesbian hottie?

[The Host checks his cards.]

Gameshow Host: Well anticipated! Spin the wheel!

CLICKCLICKCLICKclickclick..click...click....click.....click......

Weasel: Eep!

BANG!

SPLAT!

Brandon: Aww, man! I got weasel on my shirt!

Gameshow Host: Nicely played, Kay! You've won an armadillo, the BOB Home Game, Buckingham Palace, and an ex-president of your choice!

[Coma and Ken roll through the set at this point, pummeling each other with pieces of the set. Cut to a cheap-looking theme park.]

Voice-Over (Sung) SUPERWACKYFUNLAND!
SUPERWACKYFUNLAND!
Where the fun never stops,
At only eighty bucks a pop!

Cheery Voice-Over: that's right, SUPERWACKYFUNLAND is open for the summer! Come on down and bring the kids! Your kids, if possible! And try out our NEW attractions!

[Cut to a hall of Distorted Mirrors. Coma is walking along, giggling at his twisted reflection. He finally stops before what is obviously a door. Kamikazie Ken is on the other side. They go through a quick vaudville "Mirror" routine, mimicing each others moves.]

Voice-Over: Yes, try our "Hall Of Wacky, Zany Mirrors"! Because twelve sheets of bent glass are much, MUCH cheaper than buying another thrill ride!

[Ken suddenly leaps forward and spears Coma out of shot. The sound of breaking glass is heard.]

Voice-Over: Make that eleven sheets.

[Cut to an aerial shot of the park. Several thrill rides are visible, including "The Regurgitator", "Plummeting Doom" and the "Rocket-Powered Bumper Cars" attraction.]

Voice-Over: But there's thrills and spills to be had, too! Are you man enough to enter the "Wind Tunnel"?

[Ken can be seen entering a long building. A powerful fan is heard cranking up inside. A few seconds later, Ken smashes through the far wall of the building and rolls away like a tumbleweed.]

Caption Flashed On-Screen For 1/32 of a Second: SUPERWACKYFUNLAND ACCEPTS NO RESPONSIBILITY FOR INJURIES SUSTAINED WHILE RIDING THE "WIND TUNNEL" ATTRACTION. SO THERE.

Voice-Over: And if you're hungry, try our answer to the "Hard Rock Cafe"... SUPERWACKYFUNLANDS new "Ruptured Eadrum" resturant!

[Cut to a resturant with some of rocks' lesser memorabilia hanging from the walls. There's Kurt Corbains' shotgun, a picture of Michael Jackson when he was still black, some wreckage from Stevie Ray Vaughns' helicopter, an ounce of 1960's-era heroin that Keith Richards DIDN'T ingest and a poster from the one Guns N Roses concert that started on time. Rock music is playing so loudly the speakers on your TV are probably distorting. Especially if you're watching BOB Classix on crappy Public Access. In the background, Ken and Coma can be seen hitting each other with plastic trays. A family is sitting at a table in front, talking to a long-haired waiter.]

Dad: ....... .... .... ... ........

Caption: Four cheeseburgers, please...

Waiter: ...?

Caption: WHAT?

[As Coma smashes a milkshake glass over Kens head, we cut back to the ring. Coma is wearing Kens' superhero cape and a blue lugue outfit. Ken has changed to a pair of purple flares, a flak jacket and fluffy orange carpet slippers. He still wears his luchador mask, of course. Coma scoops up Ken and deposits him on the mat with a ComaPlow and heads to the top.]

SW: COMA-TON BOMBBBBB!

[Coma delivers the move in slow-motion.]

NH: Here he comes... (ten seconds later) He's nearly there... (Ten more seconds later).. and he nailed him! A cover... (Ten seconds later) One!

SW: Oh, lose the slow-mo, Mr Director!

NH: (High-Pitched) TwothreeComawinsComawins!

MA: (High-Pitched) Hereisyourwinner... COMA!


[Cut back to the carpark. GBH is staring at his monitor.]

GBH: Duh? Who dat big guy? On the. Duh. Picture thingee?

JJ: Well it sure ain't Big Bird, cause that looks like some sorry sumabitch, like Grover.

[Five seconds go by before GBH looks uo from his monitor.]

GBH: Duh. And we back. JJ, you only little. You think you. Duh. Big enough for. Um. BOB?

JJ: What! do you think I am big enough? Hell no I ain't big enough, but I am damn sure the Baddest SOB on this side of the street.

Coma: Da Sassy Bitch is playing with his wiener. Neep!

[Cut to a kitchen. DSB looks up from a frying pan.]

DSB: I'm not playing with it, I'm cooking! And boy does it look yummy..(licks lips hungrily) mmmmmm.

[Cut back to the parking lot. Bohemoth can be seen in the distance, cutting a promo with Dennis. I know the concept of Bohemoth cutting promos is almost as strange as a Coma-booked match, but go with it, folks.]

Coma: Juggle my hamsters and call me Spanky! It must be Captain Heffalump and the Solid Gold Dancers! Wiggy wiggy wiggy!

CAPTION: Time for some wrestling.


[Cut to the National Guard Armoury in Oakley, South Carolina. The people in the crowd appear to have taken advantage of BOB's "Rednecks Get In Free" offer.]

MA: This contest is yadda, yadda, yadda, blah, blah, blah, one fall. It's a tag-match, if anyone cares. Introducing first, representing Jobbers Four Lyfe, The NEW Rite To Suck and the Ham-And-Eggers From Hell....

Mark Shill: Anyone else wish the BOSS would just pick a name for our jobber stable and stick with it?

SW: Yep.

NH: Me too...

MA: ...THE SNAPMARE KID!

[Abject slience as the Kid climbs in the ring and makes snapemare-ish guestures. His t-shirt is black with the phrase "I'm Gonna Snapmare You Up" on the front.]

MA: And his partner, making his BOB debut...

SW: Local jobber, then?

NH: You got it...

MA: Introducing... DUSTBUSTER BOY!

[There is a brief cheer from the local boys' long-suffering girlfriend. The rest of the crowd couldn't care less, it seems. Dustbuster Boy enters the ring and brandishes his Dustbuster above his head, flipping the switch to make vacuum-y revving noises.]

SW: That is so cool!

MS: I agree... this guy could be the NEXT BIG THING IN BOB!

NH: Now THERE'S a career goal for you...

MA: And their opponents... representing the Kent State Krew... JIM and JOSH... PASSIVLY MASSAGED! (Pause)... D'oh!

[The Kent Staters enter to the sound of their latest single "If They Can Shoot A N'Sync-er Into Space (Why Can't They Do That To ALL of Them?)". Crickets chirp in the corners of the arena until Eddie B pipes in some pre-adolescent screaming.]

MS: Well, it looks as though The Snapmare Kid is going to start us out against Josh! Dustbuster Boy vacuums some dust off the apron as he makes his way to his corner.

SW: An original gimmick AND he cuts down on clean-up costs for the arena! This kids' got it made!

NH: Yeesh... do you two really need me for this match? I have to powder my nose...MS: Powder away, Heidi... but you're going to miss the BIGGEST MATCH IN BOB'S STORIED HISTORY!

NH: How does it go, Whatbody? *coughcoughSCHIVONNEcough*? (She leaves the announce position.)

MS: Josh and the Kid lockup... look at these two young bucks sweating and straining as they fight for position, muscles bulging, buttocks tightening...

SW: WHOA! Ixnay on the omoerotichay, Arkmay!

MS: The Snapmare Kid swivels... SNAPMARE! SNAPMARE! SNAPMARE! Whattamaneuver! Josh returns to a vertical base... SNAPMARE!

SW: Get the Dustbuster Boy in there!

MS: Jim tries to help out Josh! SNAPMARE! And here comes Dustbuster Boy! He's got Josh!... STEREO SNAPMARES!

SW: All right! Go, Dustbuster Boy!

MS: The Kent Staters roll out of the ring and look at their opponents celebrate! Could it be... YES! The "Snapmare My Bitch Up" dance! We could be looking at the BIGGEST UPSET IN BOB HISTORY! If you don't count XXXtreme Machine beating Neige 13, that is...

[The crack BOB Production Team quickly roll some footage of Neiges' jobbing and subsequent Public Flogging.]

SW: I will NEVER get tired of watching that... Did you know I was the one who inserted the cell-phone up Neiges'...

[Cut to a High School Debate Contest.]

Second Speaker For The Affirmative: But...

[Back to ringside.]

SW: It was great, Mark... and then even Xenomorph was able to kick Neiges...

[Cut to two farmers looking at a large donkey.]

Goat Farmer: ...Big, white, hairy ass.

[Back to ringside.]

MS: That's as maybe, Scotty, but I think we should stop ripping off Austin Powers 2 and get back to the match, huh?

SW: If we must...

[In the ring, The Snapmare Kid quickly stubs out a smoke and re-assumes dancing. Jim and Josh throw away their bottles of Powerade and strat re-selling the Stereo Snapmares. Dustbuster Boy just kind of looks confused. Typical BOB rookie...]

MS: Josh slides back into the ring... Snapmare Kids strikes.. NO! Josh blocks the snapmare... back suplex! Jim hits the rings as well... SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR! on Dustbuster BOY! BOY! BOY!

SW: Dustbuster Boy rolls out of the ring... Welcome to the Middle-Of-The-Mediumly-Big-Leagues, kid...

MS: Josh plants Snapmare with a slam... Massivly Packaged with the "Syncrhronised Dance Routine Elbows"! Listen to that crowd!

[More crickets chirping]

SW: Good grief, what do you have to DO to get a reaction of of these freaks? Kill someone?

Guy in Front Row: Ayup. That might work.

MS: Josh is working over The Snapmare Kid with forearms and elbows... It's DEVASTATING! Standing drop-kick! Dustbuster Boy manages to get back to the apron and he's got his Low-Powered Cleaning Device of DOOM! Josh to the ropes... Dustbuster to the back! Joshs' t-shirt is trapped by the suction! He can't move!

SW: Because if he does, it'll ruin the illusion that this pathetic maneuver actually works... Um, I mean... YEAH! GO DB!

MS: Dustbuster Boy brings the Dustbuster downwards... He's got Josh's underwear! DUSTBUSTER WEDGIE!

[Cut to a pale, out-of-shape net surfers' bedroom. He's typing a search into Google.]

NetNerd: Dust...buster...wedgie. Wow, a match! *click* Aww, nuts! (Types again) Leather... clad... lesbians... in jell-o. *click* 38 matches! YES!

[Cut back to ringside. Everyone is frozen in the same position they were when we cut away. Except Dustbuster Boy, who's turned to look at the announce table.]

DB: Why do we kep stopping? This is confusing, Scotty!

MS: You know Dustbuster Boy, Scotty?

SW: Ummm.. Yes. He's my cousin Ricky, actually...

MS: Figures. Josh back elbows Dustbuster Boy off the apron, sending him crashing to where the pads would be if this tiny arena could afford them.

DB: OW!

MS: But Josh has left himself vulnerable by not paying enough attention to The Snapmare Kid!

THUMP!

SW and MS: SNAPMARE! SNAPMARE! SNAPMARE!

MS: He picks up Josh... Biiiiig snapmare! Josh looks dazed... no, he was playing possum! He reverses that snapmare and snapmares Snapmare! What irony for the Snapmare Kid to be snapmared with his own snapmare like that!

SW: Have you been taking Comas' medication again, Mark? Josh tags out to Jim as we get a run-in! It's... THE AGENCY! The Agency are here in BOB! And they're attacking... Dustbuster Boy? What the hell? (Whispers) Pssst! Sculder... you're supposed to punk out Josh!

Sculder: I though I WAS punking out Josh!

Josh: You moron, that's Dustbuster Boy!

Sculder: Is it? Damn, all these Boy Band members look the same to me...

Jim: he's not evn IN a Boy band, you putz!

SW: Adnd here comes Brandon, probably to make the save, although since the run-in appears to half self-distructed, I don't know what he's going to do!

Brandon: Well, this is just freaking typical! The BigBOSS couldn't organise a fart at a curry-eating contest! I'm going home to play with my pussy!

Everyone In the Arena: WHAT?

Brandon: The cat, you idiots!

[Cut to the NetNerd.]

NetNerd: Play...with...my... pussy. Four million, three hundrend and twenty thousand matches. Damn, I'm going to have to buy more Kleenex.


[Cut back to the CLASSIX desk.]

GBH: Sorry. Dat was bad. I think. Duh. Kent Guys win. Maybe. Yur. JJ, you got...Duh. Where JJ?

Coma: I'm sorry Mr President, I haven't eaten the clams! Yoghurt underwear rocks!

CAPTION: Ummm.. Sorry, we have no idea WHAT Coma just said....

[In the background, Hardcore JJ can be seen setting up a ladder behind Bohemoth. He scales it with amazing dexterity for a toddler and taps Bohemoth on the shoulder. Bo turns, only to be given a Hardcore Drop. He sells it like the champion he is, allowing JJ to cover. A few seconds later, the Generic Ref runs into shot, holding a Starbucks Frappucino. (How the hell he affords those on what we pay him is anyones guess... maybe he's selling drugs on the side?) He drops and counts the pinfall on Bohemoth as we cut to our final match. A panning shot shows the one-third full Slobberknocker Arena. Banners (All two of them) read "STWF Sunday Afternoon. Yes, we're going WAY back into the archives of the now-defunct Stereotype Wrestling Federation, seeing as Scotty picked up the rights to their old cards dirt-cheap at Der Kommisaars' last yard-sale.]


Announcer Lad: Ladies and gentlemen.. this contest is set for the usual one fall... introducing, at a total combined weight of something totally irrelevant.. the Untalented Alliance... STREETMIME and THE ORGAN GRINDER!! And could someone get this stupid monkey off my leg?

(StreetMimes' entrance music plays inaudibly. Both men are already in the ring, of course...)

Announcer Lad: And their opponents... who at the time of their last appearance in the STWF weighed in at.. let's see.. 327 plus 283... carry the one.. 610 pounds! Accompianied by Strep, they are Carnage and Stalker.. THE TOTAL ANNIHILATION SQUAD! Oh, damn it J. Fred! Those were clean pants!

("Danger" by KISS is cued as the two returning semi-legends emerge through plumes of curling mist. Oh, alright, it's a fire extinguisher... the pyro guys are having to improvise tonight.)

Angus "Vince" McMadden: It looks like it's going to be The Organ Grinder and Carnage to start this one off... the bell sounds and the first ever STWF Sunday Afternoon match is off and running! And Carnage strikes the first blow with a roundhouse right! OG is floored with that one!

SW: StreetMime is complaining about something... no-one will ever know what, though... Nice elbowdrop by Carnage in the meantime!

AVM: Raw power being shown by the TAS! StreetMime tries to help out, but a huge headbutt sends him reeling! Stalker's in as well.. huge spiked powerbomb!

SW: *click*... OHH! That had to hurt!... *click*

AVM: What was that?

SW: Well, this one looked like such a foregone conclusion, I pre-taped my responses... good thinking, huh?

AVM: I guess.. look out! The Organ Grinder tries for a blindside attack on Stalker...

SW: *click*... Good move by Insert Jobber's Name Here!... *click*

AVM: ...But Stalker sees it coming and responds with a blatant lowblow!

SW: *click*... YEAH! Squeeze him like a grape, Andre!... *click*

AVM: Will you put that thing away?

SW: I think I picked up the wrong tape today... *click*... Mr Whatbody, this is Jane Balbuckler of the IRS... We know where you live! You can't hide from us forever, Mr Whatbody... *click*

AVM: Back in the ring, Carnage has dragged StreetMime into the corner...

SW: *click*... EIN! SWEI! DREI!!... *Click*

AVM: What the hell was that?

SW: I'm very big in Germany, you know...

AVM: So is tuba music, leather pants and religious persecution. None of which I want here! Now put that away! Carnage drags SteetMime up to the top rope... OH MY! Did you see that move from Carnage?

SW: I sure did! StreetMime has been drilled into the canvas! What was that move?

AVM: I have no idea... one of those top-rope piledrivers that were so popular about eighteen months ago... remind me to check the archives and find out what it was called... The referee counts but its academic after that.

CAPTION: NOTE: The top-rope piledriver employed by Carnage is called the "Doomsday". Thank you.

Announcer Lad: Here are your winners.. THE TOTAL ANNIHILATION SQUAD!!


[Cut back to the CLASSIX set. Hardcore JJ is standing on the desk with his newly-won "AYOOYFM" Title over one shoulder, celebrating by pouring juice in the general vicinity of his mouth.]

GBH: Duh. Was dat it? Huh? Where Coma go?

[Sharp-eyed viewers will notice Coma in the background, having a conversation with a lamp-post. GBH finally looks at the camera and shrugs.]

GBH: 'Kay. Bye. Yur.

[Fade out.]


©2002 BOB Wrestling! STARTING WITH THE MAIN EVENT, FINISHING WITH THE SQUASH. GO FIG.

 

© BOB Wrestling!

Brawlers On a Budget is an online fantasy parody wrestling sports entertainment federation (or e-fed) designed to be somewhat funny.

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