Archive for April, 2002

All I wanna do is entertain!

April 24th, 2002
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[A hand picks up a black cordless telephone. We see the hand dial a bunch of numbers, but we can’t see which numbers for sure since the hand is not invisible. The mystery phone holder then puts the phone to his ear and we see long black hair in a ponytail. He turns around and we see Shaggy, Trey Vincent’s…, best describes him. Friend? No. TV doesn’t have any friends who aren’t sports entertainers, since they’re all beneath him. But back to Shaggy. For those not in the know, Shaggy resembles Trent Reznor meets a high-class wardrobe. He listens to a message Trey has left him.]

TV: Well Shaggy, you’ll never guess what happened, YET AGAIN, in jOlt. Yep. I’ve scared off another one. That is three straight. There’s this little pussy named Gregor James, a.k.a. Gary Nye, a little fucking faggot who agreed to work a program with the Sports Entertainment Icon, jOlt’s future and star attraction, and everyone’s TV champion, Trey Vincent, has quit.

TV: Everyone fears me. The rumor is he heard Trey Vincent doesn’t stick to scripts too well. Trey Vincent was going to give him two seconds in the spotlight before knocking him out permanently, but still, he would have been the recipient of the greatest sports entertainment beating ever seen. Baseball bat, cracked skull, broken body, that’s the only way to go anymore. It’s the only way to get to the top. Trey Vincent is sick of playing by rules, earning a spot and all that bullshit. Paying dues. Please! Everyone is going to be envious and jealous of Trey Vincent because he is destined to be on top of this motherfucking world, whether he gets their honestly, or the fun way…

TV: And he had the nerve to call Trey Vincent “far from quality”? He can lick cock scabs off diseased old men at gay bars full-time now, since that’s what he wants to do. And everyone in BOB is probably wondering why the fuck Trey Vincent is shooting all over the company he works for. Well, Trey Vincent doesn’t need any company. Trey Vincent is perfectly content to go off into obscurity and focus on the important things in life. Sex, drugs and money. Granted, Trey Vincent isn’t a household name yet, but….maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

TV: Everyone runs from Trey Vincent. Just as they do in jOlt, they do in BOB. All I wanna do is sports entertain, Shaggy. You know that. Trey Vincent is all about outrageous entertainment. Lance Knight ran from me. Azrael Ravanell ran from me. Gregor James ran from me. They ALL run from me because they know they will be embarassed so badly they might as well save the abuse on their body and ego and get the fuck out of Dodge. Trey Vincent has yet to find anyone in the “elite” world who can handle him. There are little talentless idiots in numerous hardcore and serious feds who would jump at the chance to outduel me on the mic. Been there, done that, if Trey Vincent wants that high a level of opposition, he will pick a fight with high school kids. It’s very hard to find a fed these days where the announcer can string together a sentence without losing a war with the English language.

TV: This is quickly becoming a sad, sad industry. Not that it was ever really proud anyway. All hype, no delivery, bad products, bad attitudes, no organization, sub-par sports entertainers… goes on and on….

TV: I don’t know Shaggy. What do I want to do? Keep running apathetic, uncreative idiots out of jOlt and sitting around, gaining no exposure from my cleverosity? Keep writing material that will never see the light of day, but is better than most of the shit that does? Geocities, Angelfire, Tripod, they can all kiss my ass. Well, not Tripod, since they host my Web site.

TV: I have a feeling this great promo will see the light of day in BOB. Because BOB needs Trey Vincent to entertain them, since nobody ELSE WILL! The iAd has arrived, and death is following. The crop of talent is dying of thirst, and the iAd has all the water.

TV: And just for the record, Gregor was a fag. I wasn’t just gay bashing. He really enjoyed the company of men. He enjoyed having a hot spear fill his asshole. Was that too graphic? Who cares. Fuck you! Fuck everyone. Fuck jOlt. Fuck BOB. Fuck me. And fuck you. Trey Vincent hates everyone on this motherfucking planet because Trey Vincent has the talent to realize they all SUCK! This is my world, this is my show, and you all are nothing but bit parts who will never get any credit. Deal with it.

TV: I think I need to head to Arizona and go party with Studs.

TV: And as for BOB? Trey Vincent has a message for Billy Polar. There are three shows this company runs. We got control of NAGAM. Polarvision is next. Whoever this fed puts in our way, we will knock down. Bitches, retards, fat, ugly, drug addicts, bring your worst, or your best, whatever you consider it to be. Trey Vincent is gonna be a superstar. We’re booking ourselves to the moon. BOB will be successful as never before under our control, or it will die under our control. Either way, we don’t really care, as long as we’re in control. Well I don’t care. I hear Seth cares a little bit. But whatever.

TV: Speaking of Harker, when the hell are you gonna finish editing our latest MSTing? C’mon dude, how much post production are you gonna do? You’re getting WAAAAAYYYYYYY too vain, my little friend. Or are those bots trying to write in more clever jabs since they had funny block during the taping?

TV: Well, I hope you’ve enjoyed this message Shaggy. I hope TVPI is moving along smooth as a 18-year-old chick’s ass. You’ve got my cell phone. Call it if you need Trey Vincent to be your lifeline. I gotta call Studs now, and Seth, and head to the bar. And get a woman. So much to do, so little time.

TV: Fuck BOB! Good night Shaggy!


[Fade out.]

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Odd sex habits and fetishes

April 19th, 2002
Comments Off on Odd sex habits and fetishes

Previously, on Sarah:

“Is The Domino dead? How did he possess Kay?” Sarah asks.

“He must be dead. I bet the WWF had him killed, and now he’s returned from beyond the grave to carry out some sort of vengeance. But you shouldn’t worry,” Styles says.


“Kay Fabe is dead, monkey crap. The Domino has stolen her beautiful body to call home. And all women, especially Sarah, are invited in, any time, any place,” Kay says.


“Oh my God, wait,” Styles says. “If Kay believes she is The Domino, she can’t, as some would, change their gimmick. In Kay Fabe’s world, gimmicks don’t exist. We may have to take more drastic action.”

“Kay, I’m sorry,” Sarah says.

Suddenly, Sarah’s foot is in Kay’s face. Kay, unprepared for the kick, falls back and her head bounces off the court. Her world becomes….



[Little Good’s apartment.]

He is sitting in his recliner, watching an episode of “Seventh Heaven” on the tele. Sarah walks out of the bedroom, wearing only a long blue pajama top. She looks at the TV, then at Little Good.

“You disgust me. How can you watch such wholesome, family valuesy stuff like this?” she asks.

“Umm, because it, uh…”

“Jessica Biel?”

He sighs. “Yeah.”

“If you had a choice between me and her, who would you pick?”

“Honestly, Jessica.”

Sarah charges at Little Good and kicks him in the chin. He tips over backwards, as does the recliner, trapping him underneath. Sarah tosses the chair aside and picks him up by the throat.

“Listen up, with the last few weeks I’ve been having, I don’t need to know that my loser boyfriend would rather be with someone else. I haven’t won. Twice! First March Mayhem, then of all things, to Joanie Laurer!”

“Don’t forget about Gluttons For Punishment thing too. That’s three. Granted you came in second, but I thought you couldn’t be beaten. Sounds like you’ve done you’re own right share of ‘jobbing’ in BOB.”

Her eyes open wide in anger and she whips him around and throws him into the wall. He becomes part of the wall as his backside makes a huge indent.

“Owww!” Little Good yells. “That hurts, y’know.”

Little Good breaks free, grabs Sarah’s arms and whips her around and makes a new dent in the same wall.


Sarah punches Little Good.

Little Good punches Sarah back.

He throws her onto the bear skin rug on the floor and they begin throwing off clothes and violently kissing each other.

[Xamfir’s bedroom.]

“Sarah said she’d be here,” Xamfir says apologetically.

“THE….I mean, I’m used to it,” Kay says. “Let me ask you something Xamfir.”


“Do you like….pie?”

“Yeah. Who doesn’t?”

A mouse runs in between them. They’re sitting on his bed. Did I forget to mention that? Well they are. Xamfir sees the mouse and smiles widely. Heputs his hand over the little white creature, trapping him. He stands up and starts to pull his sweatpants down, but…

“Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoawhoawhoawhoawhoa, WHOA!” Kay says, standing up and retreating. “What in the BLUE HELL are you doing?”

Xamfir stares at Kay, tense, paralyzed, with his sweatpants a few inches below the waistline, but still not revealing anything too hairy. His frozen status breaks when he chuckles and pulls his pants back up completely.

“Nothing,” Xamfir says with a nervous laugh.

“Were you going to take that mouse……turn him sideways…..and stick him straight up your CANDY ASS?”
“You know Kay…you’re still using a lot of The Domino’s catchphrases.”

“Um, hello, mouse, ass…”

“Call it even? Forget the whole thing?” Xamfir suggests.


[Little Good’s bathroom.]

Sarah and Little Good are wrapped up in Little Good’s shower curtain in his bathtub.

“I can’t help but feel I forgot to do something,” Sarah says, looking puzzled.

“You can still go south of the border on me. Just give me a few minutes.”

“No,” Sarah says twisting his nipple.


“God, you’re so disgusting.”

“I’m Little Good, baby.”

[Xamfir’s kitchen.]

Xamfir pulls out a package of American cheese slices. He pulls of the wrappers and fills up a dinner plate with 24 slices. He eats….

One piece.

Two pieces.

Three pieces.


Four pieces of cheese.

Kay is still there.

Five pieces.
“You’ve got some naughty intentions, don’t you? You’re gonna eat cheese in hopes the mouse goes looking for it, like your sphincter is a maze.”

Six pieces. He sighs.

“If you’re just gonna keep making accusations, you can go somewhere else. Lesbian! You’re going to Hell!”

Seven pieces.

Eight pieces.

“What ever happened to your dog,” Kay asks. “The one that was raped and you thought needed an abortion.”

“Damn it. I forgot all about that, we haven’t promoed for so long. I should go to Sarah’s….tomorrow.”

Nine pieces.

Ten pieces.

“THE….I mean, I’m, getting out of here and going somewhere, that isn’t here.”

Eleven pieces.

[Styles’ place.]

Styles is on the phone.

“OH MY GOD! That’s great news. Thank you. It’ll give me something to do finally.”


Kay walks into the bar.

Everyone: “Kay!”

“Shut up jabroneys.” She walks to the bar. Kay is wearing Elvis-like sunglasses, a Scorpion Queen T-shirt and black workout pants.

The door opens. It’s Styles! But Kay doesn’t notice him. Giving us….that’s right, plot development.

“Give The Domino a martini…..not shaken, but stirred!”

Styles gasps! Then he runs out the door.

[Xamfir’s bed…a few minutes later.]

Xamfir is on his bed, holding his stomach.

“So, much, cheese.”

He pulls the mouse from his T-shirt pocket and gets nose to nose with it.

“Hope you can smell the cheese through everything else I ate.”

He sits up and gets under the blanket, PG-13 style. Then he takes off his sweatpants and….

Styles barges in!

Styles looks at Xamfir, who is holding the mouse by the tail and has his legs up under the blanket, tent-style.

Guess what Styles says.

Styles runs out.

Xamfir drops the mouse.

[Little Good’s apartment, yet more minutes later.]

The couple is in bed. Covered in peanut butter. And ice cream. And whipped cream. Little Good is eating a cherry off of Sarah while Sarah eats a banana off Little Good.

Styles barges in!


They look up at him.

“Human sundaes? I’m so hungry all of a sudden.”

“Why in the bloody hell are you here,” Little Good asks, “and you might want to add I’m quite annoyed.”

“Two shocking plot developments. First, I’ve bought Jeers. So I went there…”

“You bought Jeers?” Little Good interrupts. “You’re not gonna clean it up, are ya? A fella likes to unwind with…”

“Haven’t figured that far yet.”

“Good, I’ll…”

“Shut up!” Styles yells.

“Or what?” Little Good says standing up on the bed.

Styles puts a hand up and turns away to shield himself from Little Good’s banana. “Sit down! Sarah, Kay Fabe is still The Domino!”

“She’s what?”

“The Domino!” Styles repeats.

“I thought we cured her?”

“Apparently not,” Styles says.

“Are you sure?”


“Kay is the Domino,” Sarah says.

“Or, The Domino is Kay.”

“I think Kay’s pretending to be The Domino pretending to be Kay,” Sarah says.

“She was Kay, then Spanish, then Kay again, then The Domino,then Kay, but not really Kay, but in reality, The Domino pretending to be Kay?” Little Good asks.

“Right,” Styles says.

“Hmm,” Sarah says. “We’ve got to cure her.”

“Y’know what I think. I think Trey Vincent has something to do with this,” Little Good says.

“Don’t ever say that name again,” Sarah says.

“Sorry,” Little Good says. “But ever since he kidnapped her, she ain’t been right in the noggin.”

“He’s right,” Style says. “I know how to cure her. But you won’t like it.”

“Spill,” Sarah says.


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