Back from Graham’s Central Station
~~~Steve, Connie, and Jizz return in the wee hours of the a.m. from Graham’s Central Station, one of Arizona’s most notorious “meet (meat?) markets” in Phoenix. Connie and Jizz are especially tired after performing their “two hot chicks dancing together” routine all night and go straight to bed to ready themselves for further action from the man of the house. Steve goes to the freezer the fetch a microwavable burrito, knowing full well that it’ll hide the stench of “foreign beaver” if he dips his willy into it. It’ll come in handy this time, he bagged one in the janitor’s closet and another by her parked car around 11:45pm, the same time Connie and Jizz were being surrounding by no less than 15 horny and drunk guys. He throws it in the microwave and sets it to defrost low. Steve then grabs a glass, throws a couple cubes of ice in it, pours a little Jack Daniels with it… and heads into his living room…..~~~
Studs: WHAT THA FUCK?!
[Steve immediately goes to his state of the art surveillance room, throws his glass against the wall, and sets every monitor back 3 hours. He hits the high speed/fast foward feature... and finds the exact moment a street sign breaks his window]
Studs: That fuckin’ bastard. THAT BASTARD! THAT METAL MOUTH MOTHER FUCKIN’ BASTARD!
Okay, jerkweed…. you wanna fuckin’ play? You wanna tear up my shit? You think you scare me ’cause you have a fuckin’ bear trap for teeth and some bloodstains on your scrubs?
Shit, man… I’ve busted cherries that produce more blood than you have on your shirt, pal. That’s a fact.
[Connie appears from the bedroom wearing a pink, lace nightie... yeah, if look close enough, you CAN see through it.]
Connie: Steve? What’s going on?
Studs: What’s goin’ on, huh? What’s goin’ on? Look at my fuckin’ livin’ room. Look at my plasma screen. Look at all my shit torn up. Ya see, there’s a luggage totin’ cutain jerkweed new to the BOB that wants to play with the big boys. He wants to run up against the iAd. He wants to test me. He wants to see what it’s like to be sports entertained like a mother fucker. So, he wants to start somethin’, ya see? Well, this time the green beans in this fed that want to make a name for themselves have gone too far.
Get my cellphone…
Connie: Steve? It’s like four in the morning…
Studs: I don’t give a shit. Gimme the gatdamn phone.
[She does. Steve speed dials]
Studs: Hello? Sorry to wake ya man, I know it’s late. Listen, are you free for a shitty little P-P-V run by a shitty little promotion called BOB? Yeah, that’s the date. You’ve actually heard of it? *pfffft* Whatever…
Listen, would you do me the honor of reffin’ a special match? Yeah, I know it might be hard for you to count the three with your Parkinson’s and all…. but that’s cool, it’ll just give me more time to beat the shit outta this guy. You will? Gravy…. *beep*
Connie: Who was that?
Studs: Oh, don’t you worry. You’ll figure it out, because at SUM: ON YOUR HARD DRIVE… I’m goin’ all out. Forget that shit with Massive Man Rendition 1st against me, MASSIVE GLAND RENDITION LAST…. I’ve changed my schedule. And the best part of all, it’s gonna cost the shit out of BOB.
I want Dr. Thrilla, against me- THE GREAT TANNED GORILLA…. CLOSED WEB SIMULCAST LIVE FROM MANILLA! With special referee, the WINNA, OF THE THRILLA IN MANILLA, MUHAMMAD ALI!
Joe Frazier can come along too, if he wants. He can like, ring the bell or somethin’. Be special time keeper, or special ring announcer, I don’t give a shit.
Connie: Wasn’t there just a “Thrilla in Manilla” not too long ago, I mean… other than Ali/Frazier?
Studs: Yeah, but that sucked. I have it on tape…check this out.
[Steve brings out an alternate plasma screen from the guest room. Pops in a tape]
“Welcome back fight fans to the beautiful city of Manilla as we get ready for the main event in this year’s “Thrilla in Manila”, I am your host Johnny Dakota.”
“As you all know, this year’s main event involves former Spice Girl, and current hopeful for a successful solo career, Geri Halliwell who will take on the man, the myth, the legend. The son of God himself, Jesus Christ.”
“How did a fight between such two super colossal entities get brought about? As many of you may know earlier this year Ms. Halliwell was in Manila promoting birth control and contraception. The religious sect took exception and protested her activities, and as they say, one thing lead to another, and there was only one way to settle this dispute.”
” ‘Thrilla in Manila’ is brought to you by ‘Don King Enterprises’ and ‘The Rosie O’donnell Show’. After these commercial messages, we’ll return with their ring entrances and the 1st round of the fight.”
[Commercials for Huggies Diapers, Trojan Condoms, and the NRA run.]
“Welcome back everyone, let’s go down to the ring.”
“Manilla are you ready?” [slight cheer]
“Manilla aaare you reeaady?” [slightly bigger cheer]
“For the thousands in attendance and millions watching around the world, let’s get ready to
rumble!”
“Making her way to the ring, weighing between 150 to 300 pounds, hailing from the United Kingdom, sporting the generic and tacky Nun outfit she wore in her even more generic and tacky ‘Look At Me’ video, Geri Haliwell!”
—
“And her opponent, weighing 215 pounds, hailing from the Promised Land, wearing a 100% white cotton Calvin Klein robe and brown Eddie Bauer leather sandals, Jesus Christ!”
Ding, ding, ding.
“Geri and Jesus start off cautiously circling the ring
attempting to get a feel for each others style and strategy.”
“Geri’s the first to go on the offense with a right hook, that’s blocked by Jesus. He counters with a leg sweep that trips Geri causing her to fall to the ring.”
Stomp, stomp, stomp.
“Jesus gets off three foot stomps to Geri’s stomach before she catches his foot and yanks him off his feet.”
“Geri returns the favor with three quick elbow drops to the sternum. She gets up from the third, runs, bounces off the ropes, aaaaand…. Oh my lord she executes one nasty body drop on Jesus. I don’t care who you are that’s got to hurt!”
Studs: See? That shit was lame. It’ll be NOTHING compared to what I do to this jerkweed, Dr. Thrilla. AND THAT, IS A FACT! SIGN IT! SIGN IT NOW, MOTHER FUCKERS! If you can’t pay Ali, I’ll pay him out of my own fuckin’ pocket. Ya dig?
[starts Ali impersonation]
Studs: I’M GONNA KILLA…DR. THRILLA….WHEN I GET HIS PUNK ASS…. IN MA-NILLA!
~~~Cut to static~~~
____________________________________________
Geri Halliwell vs. Jesus courtesy of www.mayonessa.com
i hate you, you diabolical motha’ fucka you!
Mind your own fuckin’ business, douja. This doesn’t concern you… besides, it’s not my fault you’re so pathetic in your twilight, over-the-hill years that you have to wrestle a fuckin’ washin’ machine. He’ll probably kick your ass, too.
By the way, how’s your nephew, Jerry Curl Jones or whatever the fuck his name was? I heard through the grapevine that his activator caught on fire and now his head looks like the end of a struck match. Is that true? Pity. *pfffft*
In closing, watch out for Unit 5’s Airplane Spin Cycle….I hear it’s a doozy.
everything around dis’ motha fucka’ is my bidness, you punk ass bitch! first of all, im like a fine wine, baby… i get betta wit’ age… so next time you call me ova’ da hill i am gonna have to kick ya teeth down ya throat, cracka! and dont even think about the owttm, beeotch! dat’ shit is comin’ back home to da first man to eva’ hold it, douja! da only world title that matters needs to be around da waist of da only wrestler that matters! get on ya’ knees and kiss the ring, studnuts, this is king shit!
What? You’re King Shit? Fittin’ name, jerkweed.
You are an OVER THE HILL, WASHED UP, PIECE OF KING SHIT TRYIN’ ONE LAST TIME TO MAKE A COMEBACK, NEPHEW THAT LOOKS LIKE THE BUSINESS END OF A ROASTED MARSHMALLOW HAVIN’, SLACKER THAT WON HIS ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS BECAUSE OF DUKE, SHOULD BE USIN’ A WALKER…. BROKEN DOWN OLD GEEZER!
Everybody knows you’re only makin’ one last pass through this place because you ran out of blunt money, pal… who are you tryin’ to fool?
Don’t come on here, tryin’ to be all hard and talkin’ shit like you can still go.
Hello? YOU’RE WRESTLIN’ A FUCKIN’ WASHIN’ MACHINE AT A PAY PER VIEW! How low is that?
You’re not a fine wine, you’re ripple. You’re Boone’s Farm, jack. You’re Strawberry Hill. Hell, you’re not even that… you’re a buck nineteen 40 of King Cobra.
Shut your pie hole and go back to your crack house and light one up with your Momma. Drink some O.E. with your old man…. if you can find his dumb ass.
Keep your nose out of shit that don’t concern you, before the iAd sports entertains your ass out of here once and for all. Ya dig?
Please, we really don’t want to run you off…. we need people like you to wrestle the washin’ machine. Heh.
*A video is in Steve Studnut’s mail box the next day, marked, “From Dr. Thrilla”. If played, it shows the mad doctor and a weedy English gentleman named Cecil.*
Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*
Cecil: The doctor says he would like to take up your challenge to a match, but points out that you are not able to wrestle him because you are scheduled to wrestle Mr. Paradox at the PPV.
Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*
Cecil: The doctor notes that you may be assuming you will not even be winded by the match with Paradox, assuming you will crush him in short order. He points out that even if that is the case, the fans won’t like seeing you wrestle twice in one night. He also notes that frankly, you aren’t as big a star as you think you are.
Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging*
Cecil: He makes a suggestion. It is this: you should choose a replacement, someone you trust to wrestle in your place if you are too tired to wrestle him. The doctor notes that you have enough of an ego to assume there is no way you would be tired, nor that the fans wouldn’t like to see you wrestle twice in one night. In which case, he has two words for you.
Dr. Thrilla: *metal clanging, points twice to his crotch*
Cecil: “Suck it”.
*The tape ends.*
at least i’ve won an owttm.. not to mention every otha’ motha fuckin’ title around dis place.. what da fuck you done, fagget? you aint got shit on me, ill smack ya’ punk ass up! fuck you, fuck da whole iad, and fuck dat washin’ machine… after i open up his loadin’ door and shit in dat bitch i am gonna kick yo’ ass, then im taken back my belt!