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The Adventure continues

October 27th, 2007
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Booger

**Previously on 24**

Cabass: We need to get out! The whole place is gonna blow!

Booger: Just a sec, I can do this!

**Booger is holding wire cutters staring at a bomb. He keeps moving the cutter to two different wires.**

Booger: Red wire, blue wire, red wire, blue wire…

Cabass: There’s no time. Let’s go.

Booger: It says it has 3 minutes left!

Cabass: Idiot, that’s seconds! Were gonna die!

**Booger stands up and they start running a huge explosion takes place behind them as the jump out of a 14th floor window. The scene suddenly cuts to a base of operations. Booger and A woman are arguing.**

Booger: I said I wanted mustard on this sandwich!

Woman: What sandwich? You’re holding a PSP!!

Booger: So what you’re saying is I shouldn’t have put ketchup on it?

**Scene suddenly cuts to a huge explosion and a bunch of cars crashing into each other in an intersection. An old man in a wheel chair sits at one of the corners of the sidewalk holding a rocket launcher.**

Old Man: This is Murdoc. Mission Accomplished.

**Finally the scene cuts to Booger getting on a motorcycle on a JFK Airport runway. A plane is slowly departing for takeoff ahead of him.**

Scully: Booger, you have to catch that plane!

Booger: Don’t worry baby….I will…

**He puts on his Riddick goggles; kick starts the engine and heads out toward the plane. In a daring maneuver Booger jumps off his motorcycle onto the landing gear and climbs up into the compartment. The scene fades to black.**

**The following takes place between 8pm and 9pm.**

Booger: The following takes place between 8pm and 9pm

Cabass: What?

**The scene fades into the cabin of a 747. Flight 103 headed for LA. Booger and Cabass are sitting next to each other.**

Cabass: Wake up man, you’re dreaming.

**Booger stirs in his seat for a while and then finally opens his eyes. He then realizes where he is and his eyes widen.**

Booger: There’s a bomb on this plane!

Cabass: Shhhh! What the hell are you trying to do? Get us arrested?

Booger: Get arrested for trying to save everybody? I highly doubt it.

Cabass: Where the hell did you suddenly get the idea there was a bomb on the plane?

Booger: Don’t you remember? I chased the plane with my motorcycle and got on board while it was taking off. The terrorists must have found me and drugged me.

Cabass: What the hell are you talking about? That never happened. We’re on this plane so you can go talk to Brad Pitt for some stupid ass reason.

Booger: Tyler Durdin you mean?

Cabass: Whatever. But even you last week were calling him Brad Pitt…

Booger: Of course. He hides his identity all the time. He doesn’t want people to know he’s in charge of Fight Club.

Cabass: Whatever. So what was this story you were telling me about chasing the plane? Some sort of dream?

Booger: I have no idea what you’re talking about. I wasn’t chasing any plane.

Cabass: What? You just said you did like 2 minutes ago!

Booger: Shut up! You want to blow my cover? We need to lay low until we can talk with Tyler, he should know what’s going on.

Cabass: **Rolls his eyes.** But I thought you said there was “a bomb on the plane.”

**A stewardess walks by.**

Booger: Whatever you say, stranger! I certainly don’t know you at all!

Cabass: Knock it off man. Just shut up and go back to sleep.

**Silence.**

Cabass: Taft?

**He turns to look and Taft has already fallen back to sleep.**

Cabass: Thank god…

**He leans his head back and drifts off to sleep.**

-Several hours later-

Stewardess: Attention passengers we will be arriving at our destination shortly. The captain has turned on the fasten seatbelt sign as we may experience turbulence on our decent. Have a great day and thank you for flying American Airlines.

**Cabass awoke during the announcement. He turns to see that Booger is gone. He looks around for a while but there is no sign of him. He signals the stewardess.**

Cabass: Excuse me, miss. Have you seen the gentleman who was sitting with me?

Stewardess: He went to the bathroom about 20 minutes ago. I couldn’t tell you what’s taking so long.

Cabass: Thanks. I’ll go get him.

Stewardess: No, the captain has turned on the seatbelt sign, you must remain seated. I’ll check on him.

Cabass: Thanks.

**She goes back to the bathroom door as the camera follows. She knocks.**

Stewardess: Excuse me, sir. The captain has ordered all passengers to their seats. Sir?

**No answer. The stewardess gets fed up and grabs a set of keys off the wall behind her.**

Stewardess: If this is another one of those perverts wanting to surprise me with his dong I’m going to go mental.

**She opens the door but no one is inside.**

Stewardess: What the….?

**The scene fades into a black and white flashback. Booger is heading for the bathroom and he bumps into the stewardess.**

Booger: Outta my way! Gotta poop!

**The stewardess shudders and Booger walks into the bathroom.**

Booger: That ought to give me some cover.

**He walks back out of the bathroom, locking and closing the door behind him. He looks around to make sure no one is watching and heads for the cargo compartment. The scene fades back in and the stewardess heads toward Cabass’ seat.**

Stewardess: Sir, your friend wasn’t in there.

Cabass: Really? Well, I’m sure he’s alright. Where could he go, we’re on a plane?

**The plane lands. Cabass gets off and decides to wait for Cabass near the baggage claim. Suddenly we hear some sort of commotion, Cabass and the camera turn to look. Booger is coming out on the conveyor belt with his head shoved inside a duffle bag. Booger walks over to him.**

Cabass: What the hell are you doing?

Booger: Looking for the bomb.

**He pulls his head out and a pair of pink panties are hanging from his right ear.**

Booger: Not in here…

Woman: What the hell are you doing with my bag?!?

Booger: Looking for clues.

**Booger takes the panties off his ear, he inspects them closely and sniffs them.**

Booger: Hmmmm….. You don’t smell like a terrorist.

Woman: YOU PERVERT!!!

Cabass: I assure you ma’am, he has no idea what he’s doing. I’m really sorry. He’s an idiot.

Booger: I am? Oh wait, I mean *Ahem*…Yes, I am! What’s your name beautiful?

Woman: Just give me my stuff!

**She rips he items out of Booger’s hands and walks away in a moderately fast fashion.**

Cabass: Smooth moves.

Booger: I know. Did you see how she looked at me?

Cabass: Like she wanted to kill you?

Booger: Yeah, and she didn’t end up killing me. Obviously she wasn’t a terrorist. Smooth detective moves on my part indeed.

Cabass: Sure, ok. Whatever. So we’re here, what next?

Booger: Hmmmm….Phone Book!

Cabass: I guess it’s worth a shot.

**They walk over to a nearby payphone and grab the phonebook. Cabass turns to the Ps.**

Booger: What are you doing? You have to look under D idiot!

Cabass: Booger, his name is Brad Pitt.

Booger: Um, no. We went over this before…

Cabass: No Booger, if you want to find him I have to look under Pitt.

Booger: Look, if you aren’t going to take this seriously I’m leaving.

**Booger starts walking away.**

Cabass: Whatever. He’s not in here anyway.

**Booger turns around.**

Booger: Well, how the hell are we supposed to find him now?

Cabass: Didn’t think this out very well did you? Don’t know why I even bothered coming along.

Booger: I don’t know why I bothered coming along either…

Cabass: Wha? Nevermind…. Let’s just get out of the airport and see if we can ask someone, maybe they’ll know.

Booger: Alright, whatever.

**They walk outside of the airport and up to a taxi.**

Cabass: Hey, you know where we might find someone like Brad Pitt around here?

Cabby: Sure, he should be right down there on that Hollywood Boulevard. You want I could take you guys?

Cabass: Uh, sure. Why the hell not…

**They get inside the back seat of the taxi. The cabby sets the meter and takes off.**

Cabby: Why you guys want to see Brad Pitt? You aren’t a couple of those type of guys are ya? Cuz if you want I can make a trip to San Francisco. Heh heh…

Cabass: You should do stand up, that was pretty funny.

Cabby: Ya think so? I really need to get out of this cab.

Cabass: Yeah, I think you’d do wonderful.

Booger: We aren’t seeing Brad Pitt anyway. So take your gay jokes elsewhere.

Cabby: Ok, sorry. Jeeze didn’t mean to hit a nerve there.

Cabass: He’s a little edgy, we just had an argument a few minutes ago.

Cabby: Lovers quarrel eh? Well, I let you to have at it outside cuz we’re at your stop.

Cabass: That was fast.

Cabby: Nah,This part was just getting pretty pointless and boring. And I sure as hell wasn’t funny. Later guys.

Cabass: Uh, ok.

**They get out of the cab and it takes off. The road sign above their heads reads “Hollywood Blvd.”**

Cabass: That was odd…

Booger: I’m just glad it’s over. We’re back in the same situation again, we have no idea where he could be.

Cabass: You’re acting like I’m the one that wanted to come out here and see him. It’s your fault we have no idea…..wait, I DO have an idea…

Booger: Start screaming his name? Ok. TYLER!! WHERE ARE YOU, TYLER?!!

Cabass: Not right in my ear! Jesus, what the hell? No, and nice job screaming his “Fight Club” name by the way. Really covert. Anyway, my plan is to take one of those Hollywood tour buses and when we hopefully get a clue as to his whereabouts we can just lead off of that.

Booger: Tour bus? With like Coal Chamber or something?

Cabass: Not a band’s tour bus, asshole. One of those.

**Cabass points to a double-tiered tour bus parked on the other side of the street.**

Cabass: And besides does Coal Chamber even tour anymore?

Booger: Who? I have no idea what you’re talking about, let’s just get on this stupid bus thingy.

Cabass: **Sigh** Yes, lets.

**They get on the bus, pay and sit on the top open tier as to get a better view of the sights.**

Tour Guide: Hello, my name is David Copperfield the famous magician!

**The audience says nothing.**

Copperfield: Fucking David Blane, no one cares about me anymore…now I’m stuck doing shitty Hollywood tours…my life is worthless…

**He starts to cry to himself, the audience still blankly stares at him. The bus starts to drive.**

Copperfield: OK! Anyway, here we are on beautiful Hollywood Boulevard! How many people have been here before? Raise your hand.

**No response from the audience at all.**

Copperfield: Good, good. We’ll start of with an interesting tidbit. Did you guys know that this bus is the bus that Jimmy Hoffa was killed on?

Man: Jimmy Hoffa wasn’t killed, he disappeared.

Copperfield: Or so the government wants you to think…

Booger: Who the hell is Jimmy Hoffa?

Cabass: President of the Teamsters Union, dissapered without a trace one day in like ’75. Dunno what he has to do with Hollywood though.

Booger: I wasn’t even born in ’75. That stuff never happened.

Cabass: Just because something happened before you were born doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen. What, you think the world didn’t exist before you were born?

Booger: Look man, I’m not even from this planet. I’m a Furian from…Plant Fury I suppose..

Cabass: Whatever you say “Riddick”.

Copperfield: Riddick? THE Riddick? Ladies and gentlemen sitting behind you is the one and only Vin Deisel!

**Audience turns around amazed, a few people take pictures of Booger.**

Booger: The names just Riddick, thanks.

Cabass: Actually he’s Booger the wrestler who has been fired from more federations…

Child: He can’t be, the Booger on TV is a MUCH uglier man.

Booger: Watch your mouth kid before I kill you with my teacup!

Child: You don’t even have a teacup.

Booger: Yeah, well I have a teabag!

**Booger stands up and starts unzipping his pants. The child’s mother gasps and covers her son’s eyes but looks on intently. Cabass grabs Booger and sits him down.**

Cabass: What the hell? What did I say about that shit?

Booger: **Sigh** No more dong swords in public…

Cabass: Yeah. Now can we get back to this tour please David? My friend Booger and I are on a tight schedule.

Copperfield: Sure thing. Across the street in that restaurant is where Paris Hilton was caught giving a BJ to her own Chihuahua. And on your right you’ll see Bill Cosby eating an ice cream sandwich…

**The tour is full of interesting places and people. Forty minutes go by.**

Copperfield: And on your left you’ll see where Josh Hartnett….

Cabass: Ewwww….

Copperfield:…filmed the movie, 40 Days and 40 Nights.

Cabass: EWWWWWW!!!

Copperfield: Oh, and on the right you’ll see the luxurious mansion of Mr. Brad Pitt.

Cabass: Booger! That’s it!

**Booger had been sleeping but now wakes up in a daze.**

Booger: I don’t want to ride the monkey machine mommy!

Booger: Monkey….whatever, Booger that’s Brad…errr…Tyler’s house!

Booger: Oh my god! This is our stop!

**Booger grabs Cabass by the collar of his shirt and jumps off the side of the bus. The bus audience screams. They both land tumbling down the sidewalk. After a few moments they clamor to their feet.**

Cabass: That fucking hurt man.

Booger: Doesn’t hurt as bad as your wife.

Cabass: How many times do I have to tell you I don’t have a wife?

Booger: Probably millions but I still won’t listen because she’s so fucking good in bed.

**Cabass laughs a bit.**

Cabass: You really crack me up sometimes…you stupid fuck. Let’s just get to that mansion.

**They walk a few blocks back to Brad Pitt’s mansion. They walk up to the gate and over to a little intercom.**

Booger: Let me talk to him. He should recognize me from Fight Club.

Cabass: Go right ahead man, this is all you.

**Booger presses the buzzer. A voice comes over the intercom.**

Voice: Please use the phone next to the touchscreen.

Booger: Alright.

**He picks up the phone and places it to his ear. We cannot hear what is being said on the other side.**

Booger: Hi, yeah, I’m here to see Tyler Durdin, I have an appointment. What do you mean this isn’t his house, I had very viable information that this was his place of residence. No, who the hell is Brad Pitt? I’m talking about Tyler Durdin from Fight Club. Movie? Why does everyone keep saying that? Alright, I’ll hold.

**Turns to Cabass.**

Booger: Said they were going to get him to give me a personal message. You got a pen?

Cabass: Yeah, here.

Booger: Thanks. Hello? Yeah, I’m here. You have a message for me tyler? Yeah, I have a pen and paper. Ok…yup. Alright, now how do you spell that? Alright. Now does that have two Qs or just one? None? Are you sure there’s none? Ok, whatever you say man, you’re the boss. Ok, thanks, bye. Good news, this is just what I wanted.

Cabass: Let me see.

**Booger hands the paper over to Cabass.**

Cabass: Booger all this says is “GO AWAY!” and then in little writing you wrote that my wife was hot.

Booger: He also told me he’d call the cops if we didn’t leave.

Cabass: How the hell is that good news?

Booger: Because it’s just as I had suspected, he’s being held captive in the house, it was his way of telling me to call the cops to save him. But he doesn’t know who I am, so I’m going in after him.

Cabass: What?

**Booger runs toward the gate, jumps at it and climbs over it. A nearby alarm starts going off. Booger roundhouse kicks it and runs up the huge lawn. He reaches the mansion and hides against the side of the building. Guards rush out a nearby door and Booger takes the opportunity to sneak in behind them. The guards rush the gate and grab Cabass.**

Cabass: Well isn’t this a familiar feeling, thanks again Booger…

Guard: Shut up!

**The guard tazers Cabass. Scene cuts back inside the mansion. Booger is hiding in a hallway peeking his head out to scope the area.**

Booger: Two guards patrolling the upstairs hallway. If I can take out the power box it should go Pitch Black in here. Thanks for the tip Splinter Cell…

**Booger makes his way to the basement and throws the main breaker. Everything goes dark.**

Booger: Good ol’ nightvision.

**After a few moments we can hear a lot of commotion. The sound of people fist fighting and falling can be heard. We hear footsteps running up what seams to be a flight of stairs. And finally we hear the sound of silenced tranq dart shots and then nothing. The scene fades into a local jail, Cabass is sitting on a bench on one side of a cell while Booger is laying unconscious on the other side. He begins to stir and sits up. He looks over at Cabass.**

Cabass: This is the second time I’ve been put in jail because of you. And this time your company isn’t going to get me out…

Booger: Bitch, bitch, bitch! You sound just like Scully. “You got me put in jail.”, “My brother is dead.”, “I don’t even have a wife.” Blah, blah, blah.

Cabass: You’re lucky those guards tazered the shit out of me because I would beat you ass so bad.

Booger: You couldn’t even, I’m a wrestler remember?

Cabass: I was one too, before i became a lawyer. And Booger, don’t give yourself too much credit, I think your losing streak says otherwise.

Booger: Whatever. I won my last match.

Cabass: Really cuz from where I and EVERYONE ELSE was sitting it sure looked like a draw to me.

Booger: Well, I had the match won is what I meant…

Cabass: Didn’t look that way to me. You wrestle even worse than before, what the hell was up with those ninja roles?

Booger: I was dodging blows duh!

Cabass: No one was around you.

Booger: Not that you saw.

Cabass:Goe to sleep Booger.

Booger: Ok

** Booger lays back down and the scene fades to black.**

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The man…The myth…. The spoon?

October 21st, 2007

Booger

[We open up in a moderate sized room. The walls are plastered with various porn magazin cutouts, red spray paint streaks, and other garbage such as police tape. On the far end of the room is a desk with a wooden plackard that reads “Mr. Cabass.” The door opens, and a man steps through…]

Man: What the…

[A rustling noise of paper attracts the mans attention and he starts slowly towards his desk. As he reaches the desk…]

Booger:Arggggg!!!!

[Booger jumps out from behind the desk landing on to of it, and wacks the man on the head with what appears to be a table spoon. The man jumps back as Booger tumble to the floor, out of view, and jumps to his feet.]

Man: Booger! What the hell did you do to my office?!

Booger: I just spooninated your ass!

Man: Spooninated? Your ripping off Trogdor again.

Booger: Wghat do you mean ripping off? Who’s Trogdor Mr.Grabass?

Cabass: For the last time it’s Mr. Cabass… Cobb-ahs. And Trogdor is that Dragon man thingy from the internet that your always ripping off.

Booger: I don’t rip noboy off Willis!

Cobass: Cobass!

Booger: Who?

Cobass: Nevermind! Last week you you peed on my desk stating i got urninated on. Before that you were caught masterbating in the grocery store, and in court plead guilty to Sperminating… You’re an idiot.

Booger: Who?

Cobass: Will you stop! Anyway how are things in BAW?

Booger: They Firerninated me.

Cobass: Stop that! Fired? What this time?

Booger: Remember Super Bob?

Cobass: Yes, the guy with the washed up super hero gimmick.

Booger: And you know his manager?

Cobass: Barbara Beast… Yes, and can you beleave he is married to that?

Booger: No, and can you beleave I really though she was a hooker. I offered her a 50, and she said no, but I was like ” Yo, biotch you better call me daddy!” And she said” Ahhh(girly scream)” And I slapped her.

Cobass: Pandering prostitution? That a new one.

Booger: Oh, sign this.

[Booger hand Mr. Cobass a peice of paper. On the paper written in crayon it reads…

“Bish! Im guna sow U 4 Assaltering me! I wunt ma fiddy buks! yors trulee booger von dooch”

Cobass(scratching brow):Why am I gonna sign this?

Booger: You’re my attourney. Thats what you do you sign stuff.

Cobass: You’re an idiot… what ever.

[Mr. Cobass sticks the paper in his pocket.]

Cobass: Now that you’re fired, what are you going to do?

Booger: I’m wrestling again. B.O.B. its the big times!

Cobass: Brawler on a budget? Big Time?

Booger: It’s gotta be big if the Grim Reaper wrestles there.

Cobass: That would be Death, and he is not the grim reaper, it’s just him gimmick.

Booger: What’s a gimmick?

Cobass: You know, when you act a cirtain way, and wear costume and stuff to amuse the audience.

Booger: He’s gay?

Cobass: No he is not gay, he is married!

Booger: Gay guys can get married. They just passed a law! I say’d it on the news.

Cobass:He isn’t gay dumbass… He is married to a woman, and no she isn’t a hooker, and yes she is her manager.(Deep breathe.)

Booger: Well, If I were his, manager I’d make myself more noticable.

Cobass: You really are retarded… She is that woman always with him rawring all the time.

Booger: Ohhhhh the doberman?

Cobass: Nevermind… It’s impossable.

Booger: What is?

Cobass:An intellagent conversation! Booger, I have to clean up your mess you should leave now.

Booger: But…

Cobass: Out!!!

[ As Mr. Cobass points at the door Booger steps out as it is slammed behind him. Fade to black, or a smokie gray if you have an older model television.]

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The Death-ly Hallows

October 20th, 2007
Comments Off on The Death-ly Hallows

Death

[We open in Afghanistan. Death is sitting on a large rock, wiping his brow. Katie Death, his zombie cheerleader wife, is pointing at him.]

KD: Rar rar!

Death: I do love your Nelson impersonation. Now, why don’t you do your Jenna Jameson impression now while I do my promo.

Katie Death

[Katie starts throwing her head back and forth.]

KD: Raaar! Raaaar! Raaar!

Death: *Sigh* Never mind. Go eat some brains or something.

[Katie shuffles away.]

Death: You know why Katie was doing her Nelson Muntz impersonation at me? Because she realizes, like I do, the mess that is becoming of this tag team title match. Not only do I have to deal with the only guy in BOB who is gayer than Dumbledore, but I’ve also got to deal with you…Axl. BWAHAHAHA! Just kidding, Plants. I know you’re not gay. Hey, seriously, my props on boning Heidi. Maybe I’ll give her a bone of my own at Massively Cool. Think about it, Heidi. I’ll give a whole new meaning to the term “skullfuck.”

Death: But SMP, I’ve got some bad news for you. Your name might as well be Gellert Grindelwad. Just like that black wizard, you’re one of the most dangerous heel wrestlers of all time, but you’re second only to me. And that tag partner of yours sure has some unrequited feelings for you. I think he wants to get hold of your “elder wand.” Oh yeah, Plants. And as legend has it, the supposedly unbeatable Grindewald loses to Dumbledore, if Wikipedia is to be believed. You seriously think I read “Harry Potter”?

Death: So what’s this all mean? It means you may need to worry more about Axl than about me at Massively Cool, because Heidi might not even let me get in the ring. But if I do, remember, Big Bony is the measuring stick. I’ve got a certain title that you could only dream about buying, let alone winning. And Van Halen? XXXtreme Machine laughs at you. I think he’s fingerbanging Tifa while I speak.

[Katie shuffles back on-screen, her face covered in blood.]

Death: Guys from the Netherworld never lose. And you’re gonna find that out first-hand at Massively Cool. There are many imposters in the world, but remember this boys. There’s only one Death. And there’s only ONE WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS.

KD: Here’s your Harry Potter book back.

Death: Hey! The camera didn’t fade to black yet!

KD: Whoops! I mean…rar?

[Fade to–

Death: NOOOOO!

–black.]

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Tag Match? Or 3 on 1?

October 20th, 2007
Comments Off on Tag Match? Or 3 on 1?

Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

[The scene opens with SMP modeling a “Dracula” type cape in front of a full-length mirror. However, this is no ordinary cape as it’s made out of bargain leather and fringes, and accentuated with a pink, feather boa. SMP prances around like he’s added quite a bit of sugar to his britches. On cue, Nurse Heidi walks in…]

Nurse Heidi

NH: What… in the hell….. are you DOING?

SMP: Oh hey. Yeah… well, you know that Halloween is coming up and all, and my tag-team partner for Massively Cool has inspired my costume this year. I’m going as… Count Fagula.

[there’s an uncomfortable pause for around 6 seconds]

NH: You’re kidding, right?

SMP: No. How’s this sound? (in a thick, sorta cheesy, Bela Legosi accent). “ I vant… to sooock…. your deeeck. MUAA HAA HAA!”

NH: pffft! *snort* I can’t help it, I’m going to have to give you that one…
But you know, I watched Axl’s promo this morning, no jokes about that please… and I saw that he’s back on the dark and brooding, tough guy kick again.

SMP: Yep… this is the same guy that was beaten up by his own lackeys a couple of weeks ago, begged off to Goldberg like a whimpering schoolgirl in a grocery store after that, and can’t tell the difference between a can of corn and Rice-a-Roni.

NH: Yeah, that is strange. You’d think for SURE he’d know what Rice-a-Roni was.

SMP: It is the San Francisco treat after all, or at least one of them. Can’t believe he messed that up…

NH: Well, he’s an Oklahoma gay, ya know?

SMP: (in a spot on Louis Gossett in “An Officer and a Gentleman” voice) ONLY TWO THINGS COME FROM OKLAHOMA, SWEET PEA… AND THAT’S STEERS AND QUEERS. AND I DON’T SEE ANY HORNS!
Mayo…NAISE!

[Another pause…]

NH: Ummm, okay. So what are you going to do? He’s says he’s not tagging in.

SMP: Well, obviously the guy is stupid. Everybody knows he’s starting the match because there’s no drama with him, all the heat is on Death and myself. That’s the story. He’s the subplot. You’re just in there for ratings.

NH: What?

SMP: Come on Heidi, nobody cares to see you wrestle, they’re just hoping one of your boobs pops out or your shorts rip.

NH: HEY! I can wrestle! And you’re not doing a very good job of keeping me from tearing into you myself. And by the way, take that dumb cape and boa off… you look ridiculous.

[He does]

NH: Thank you, I can take you somewhat seriously now. And what do you mean there’s no drama with him? Everybody in the match hates his guts!

SMP: Well, you do have a point. But Axl is not the main eventer in this match. Hell, YOU can even squash him. He’s just there as a “what could possibly happen” type scenario guy. He’s a bum.

NH: He clowned you about titles in his promo.

SMP: HE DID WHAT? WHAAAAAT?!

NH: Oh yeah… he said that, of course, you were old as usual, and bragged that he won the OWTTM before you, and so did XXXtreme Machine and you might win it by 2050 and so on and so on…

SMP: (Legosi accent) In-ta-reeeesting…

[The Doc moves to the center of the room. The room darkens and The Smooth Operator is now spotlighted. He reaches up and magically a microphone drops via cord from the ceiling.]

SMP: [Doing his best Dwayne Johnson: Or The Domino: Depending on who you ask:]
AXL, YOU DINGLEBERRY! Come Massively Cool, whether I’m you partner or not…IT DOESN’T MATTER IF I’M YOU PARTNER OR NOT!

I’m going to remove my $500 Italian sock, take off my $1000 Italian, hand made custom loafer… and shove my MILLION DOLLAR ITALIAN FOOT so far up your DOOKIE POOT, CRUSTY ASS!

That all you’ll have to do, is put a couple slices of bread in your mouth… and have yourself a TOE… JAM …. SANDWICH!

In front of the HUNDREDS….

And HUNDREDS…

Of The Doc’s planted fans…

All courtesy of…

[Doing his best Ken Kennedy]

DOC-TOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!
SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIL-A-COOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnneeeeeeee.

[5 second delay]

M. Plants.

[The lights come back on.]

SMP: And Death? You get in my way, I’m bringing sticks and stones, pal!

[The Doc stomps off and leaves the room, gently nudging Heidi aside as he walks by…
“Smooth Operator” by Sade begins playing in MIDI format as we fade to pink feathered boa…]

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Oblivion…

October 20th, 2007
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Axl

[Scene: Nowhere City Cemetary. Axl’s father’s gravesite lies in our sights… before the camera pans a bit, until we find that the grave yard is actually right next to Axl’s trailer. Now THAT’S sinister. Eh? … Ok, not really…]

“Death.”

“An embodiment of the end… The end of life. The end of the struggle to STAY alive… the end… as well as the beginning.”

“The beginning… of a New Horizon.”

[We find Axl sitting atop the hood of a broken down old car laying on his front lawn. As the gray sky above pours down rain, Axl’s trenchcoat whips roughly in the harsh wind… he adjusts his hotpink-flamed cuffs, looking in their direction instead of the camera…]

“Death, my boy… Can you feel it? Feel… the electricity?”

[Suddenly, a bolt of lightning rips through the sky, and thunder quakes in the distance.]

“Can you feel the excitement? Death… it’s time. Time that you shed your fellow old school budget brawlers, and step up to the NEW regime. It’s time that you prove to the world… nay… the UNIVERSE, that while geezers like the iAd and SMP may be past their expiration dates, Death? Is TIMELESS. Death? Why, Death is never out of season. The ageless 10th Wonder of the World! You, babe, are the one thing that will remain… forever… and ever. And it is with that in mind that I let you know… Something you’re going to find out very… VERY soon.”

[Axl lifts his gaze to the camera… showing a bit of a smile… but quickly, this smile is replaced by a determined stare… a solemn, emotionless glare… piercing the very lens of the camera.]

“Death… whether you join US or not… the Hierarchy WILL form. Not the Hierarchy you know now… not Jonny, and Jimmy, and Joey, and Jackie, and Jed, and all the rest of my jobber army. No… for you see, ever since I stepped into this god forsaken company, I had my eyes set on one thing.”

“…”

“Ok, that’s a lie. When I first stepped into BoB, I simply wanted to promote my album. BUT THEN…”

“Well, then I wanted to fight the sWo. And then I wanted to start up a thousand failed promotions. And then I wanted to shill Parodyox INC., and fight a masked gimp. And then-”

“… Well, eventually, I DID have my eyes set on one thing.”

“The Only… World… Title… That… Matters. And did I capture it? You’re damn right I did! … For about twenty seconds. Before losing it to XXXTreme Machine…”

“BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER who I lost the belt to. It only matters that, for one, brief, shining moment, I held it within my hands… in all of its plastic and cardboard, held together by bits of duct tape, glue, and saran wrap… glory.”

“And I vow, no matter what I must do, no matter what mountains I must climb, no matter what oceans I must cross, I SHALL, once again, hold the OWTTM in my hands again… not because I want to. Not because I need to. But because I DESERVE to. I am the ONLY man in this entire company that deserves that belt… the distinction of being the ONLY Champion That Matters. For I am the Only Wrestler That Matters… The Metal God… The SAVIOR of BoB…”

“I AM… Better Than You.”

“And no, no, no, Death, don’t take that personally. You’re a smart… being. When I say I’m “Better Than You”, I mean generally speaking. But, well… let’s face facts, buddy. You’ve got absolute ZERO muscle mass. And to add to that, you’re as slow as a slug riding on a snail hitching a ride on top of a turtle, and to be quite honest, you’re not much to look at. Of course, you’ve not got much TO look at, besides bones, a robe, and a scythe, but facts are facts. And Truth Is?”

“You’re not exactly the GREATEST World Champion of all time.”

“But, hey. You’re not the worst. That honor would have to go to SMP.”

“…”

“Ohhh, yeah, that’s right! Sil’s STILL never held the belt! So I guess that means even XXXTreme has beaten him to the punch! Congrats Triple X! U da mann!!!~1one”

“Maybe Scotty Whatbody can fit a run in there before SMP FINALLY wins the title… on the final BoB event. Hey, 2050 maybe a FEW years away, but hell, tis better than nothing, eh?”

[By this time, a smile, thick and smirky, has spread itself across Axl’s mug. He turns his body to lay on his side, head resting on a fist, with his legs criss-crossed upon the hood.]

“Oh, Silly Sil… You just don’t know what you’re getting yourself into at ‘Massively Cool‘, do you? Sil… I know what you must be thinking. You wish. Wish that Death would have chosen someone for you to partner with OTHER than me. Can’t say that I blame you. It would have been alot less painful. Alot less embarrasing. And a whole helluva lot less fun for mio. Yeah, that’s right. So in hindsight, I guess I’m GLAD he chose me as your partner. But if I were you? I wouldn’t be.”

“You see, when we head into ‘M.C.’, I could do many, many things. Oh, let’s see… [begins looking at his nails, quite nonchalantly] I could refuse to tag in. For one… I could fight Heidi, brutalize her… beat her to a pulp. But when Death enters the squared circle? I could just hand it right over to you, so you can take the beating you DESERVE. [Axl puts down his hand, and looks square into the lens] … Or, I could just play it fair, and help you win… when otherwise? You’d be slaughtered. So, yeah, I could totally help you, dude… Ch’yeah. RIGHT. Babe, after everything we’ve been through? I wouldn’t DARE deny you the privelege of experiencing EXACTLY what I have in store for you, come the 3rd. Once it’s approved by Big B., the match of the ages will be set in destiny.”

“Which brings me back to… Death.”

“Death… Darling. I want you.”

“I want you to be by my side… when the Hierarchy and I shape BoB in OUR image. Your place… Your place amongst the ELITE of this business could be staked, claimed, and set as soon as you make the agreement. Just a few… tiny… simple words. In fact… just two.”

“I Do.”

“Do you, Death, solemnly swear to forsake your BoB brethren? To step out from the shadow of the likes of Massive Man, Jim, douja, and Kurt Angel… and into the light of a New Horizon? Do you wish to begin a new era here in BoB? Do you wish to honor, and obey, the code of the Hierarchy… till… uh… you, do we part?”

“Then…”

“With the power, vested in me, as the Savior of all that Is Parody E-Sports Entertainment… and as leader of the Hierarchy, the New Force in BoB… the KINGS… amongst geezers… I now pronounce you…”

“Death… Second in Charge, to me, the Almighty Axl.”

“It could all be yours, Death. Standing side by side with me, as the leaders of this industry… think about it.”

“And then get back to me. I’ll be looking forward to it…”

[Axl slides off the car, but before heading into the trailer, Axl leaves upon the hood a black rose… which the camera slowly pans into… before fading… into…]

– oblivion –

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Hanging with Misty, identity theft and crank calls

October 18th, 2007
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Trey Vincent

Caption: Sin City, King Leary Motel

[Inside a motel room, Trey Vincent was typing away on a computer and wearing a green iAd T-shirt, sweatpants and headphones. If you had a really good ear, you could hear the strains of “Gears of War” by Megadeth playing. A knock at the door interrupted whatever porn Trey was looking for. He headed to the door and looked through the peephole before opening it.]

TV: Did anybody ever tell you you look totally sexy through a peephole?

Misty Waters

Misty Waters: I think that was a line in one of my movies, actually.

[Misty walks in, and Trey shuts the door.]

TV: Damn it. I need to come up with some original material.

[Misty tosses her jacket and purse on Trey’s bed.]

MW: Hey, you’re not speaking in third-person…again. What’s up with that?

TV: I’m not? Weird. *Ahem* I…*ahem* I…damn! So what brings you here?

MW: I dunno. Just seeing what you’re up to.

TV: Porn surfing, pretty much.

[A cell phone rings.]

TV: Hold on a second.

[Trey picks up the cell phone and looks at the number.]

TV: Hello?

MW: Oh, this is going to make fascinating Rant material…

TV: Yes. How are you guys?

MW: A one-way conversation.

TV: Awesome. So we’re good to go. What about BOB, that wrestling fed? Any interest in that?

MW: BOB?

TV: Really? Really? That’s fantastic. Of course. Right. Cool. Yeah. See you then. Thanks.

[Trey hangs up.]

TV: How do you feel about a little road trip with me?

MW: Where to?

TV: Los Santos.

MW: Really? Why?

TV: Trey Vincent’s getting back on TV.

MW: Oh he is? What about you?

TV: You got any good credit cards?

MW: Are you serious?

TV: *Sigh* That Kevin T. Pyromaniac got cancelled for some reason. I need to get a new one. Isn’t douja’s real name Adam or something?

MW: Trey!

TV: Huh? Fine. I won’t use douja’s name.

[Trey pulls out his wallet, and then a credit card. Misty grabs it.]

MW: Insane O. Mano?

TV: Right.

MW: Does he even have a Social Security number?

TV: Surprisingly, he does. At least, the guy who originally started with that gimmick.

MW: What? That’s not the original Mano?

TV: Does Mano sound like a white guy pretending to be a luchadore anymore? He’s fluent in Babelfish.

MW: I thought Mano’s real name was Frank.

TV: Oh, come on! That’s so unrealistic. How would you know that unless you just cheated and looked at his bio page.

MW: I have a photographic memory, asshole. The computer is right over there.

TV: What’s the worst that could happen?

MW: Hmm…you ARE facing him in a six-man tag match. Along with Kurt Angel and douja. That’s two former ONLY WORLD CHAMPIONS THAT MATTERS.

TV: douja? He’s been so busy getting stoned lately, he’s forgotten to rant since March Mayhem. Mano is just a Mexican cruiserweight. No big thing. And Kurt Angel…man, we’ve had some wars in BOB and in other places.

MW: Yeah, too bad you’re not sleeping with the BOSS’s daughter anymore.

TV: I know. I should be sleeping with Michelle and I should have the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. Wait…is Death sleeping with Michelle?

MW: I doubt it. Although, I did hear a rumor that she can’t have kids. Maybe Death killed her uterus.

TV: BWAHAHAHAHA! Awesome. Yeah, and Pigeon sure isn’t getting helped by his relationship with my ex-wife. I seriously need to find a new chick, Misty.

MW: Yep. You sure do.

TV: Misty.

MW: What?

TV: When are you gonna stop the charade and drop those panties?

MW: *Sigh*

TV: I’ll get an AIDS test. Whatever it takes.

MW: You’re such a romantic. How have you stayed single this long?

TV: Coma.

Voice from outside: POINK?

TV: Come on. We’ve got history to make, Misty. And I’ve got enough credit to get us a king-sized bed. I’ll even spring for a massage. And room-service. Whatever you want.

MW: Alright, Insane. Let’s hit the road.

TV: Oh, one last quick thing.

[Trey opens his phone and hits speed dial number. Misty grabs her stuff and then packs up Trey’s computer while he speaks.]

TV: Seth? Buddy! Great news! You gotta call me. Hey, you’re not having sex with a bear fur rug right now, are you? Hey, seriously, good luck in that main event match. Bring home the Swiss Army Belt for the iAd. Oh, and I think I just saw Massive Man and Jim walking on a cake with your picture on it and laughing outside. Don’t know what that means. Maybe you do? Later, bro.

[Trey hangs up.]

MW: You’re such a punk.

TV: Thanks! Oh WAIT! One last phone call.

[Trey opens his phone and hits speed dial number.]

TV: Hello, I’m looking for Connie Lingus? Hi Connie. I was wondering if I could squeeze your Charmins? BWAHAHAHAHA!

MW: *Snort*

[Trey hangs up.]

TV: Hope Studs doesn’t get belted again over that one.

MW: What am I gonna do with you?

TV: I can think of a few things.

[Fade out.]

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A Measured Response.

October 18th, 2007
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Seth Harker

[Blackness]

[A single white line fades into view, neatly bisecting the creen horizontally. The line suddenly spikes into jagged peaks as we hear a distant, echoing voice.]

Distant voice: Seth Harkwho???

[The line flattens out again. A brief moment passes, before…]

Distant Voice: Harkwho???

[Beat]

Distant Voice: Cake Walk.

[Slowly, static begins to fill the screen]

Distant Voice: Cake Walk.

[The static envelops us, its hissing still not making that distant, mocking voice inaudible]

Distant Voice: Cake Walk

[The static clears, and we see Seth Harker, standing in the corner of a wrestling ring, head bowed. The arena around him is darkened, empty, shot in grainy black-and-white. The opening chords of “Sleep Now in the Fire” begin to play as the camera glides in toward him. He raises his head as we approach, and speaks one phrase.]

Seth Harker: Such a mistake.

[As Zac de la Rocha lets loose his throat-shredding “YEEEEAAHHHHH!” we SLAM CUT to a series of wrestling arenas, shot in full colour, all packed with fans. Fireworks criss-cross the stage in one, long-haired fans throw Metal gestures in another, but in all we see Seth making his trademark entrance. Each arena is decorated differently, banners from a half-dozen different federations are visible, the shots a wild mish-mash of filmstocks, video, hand-held camcorder footage. A caption erupts onto the screen.]

KNOW ME

[A kalidescope of images stutter across the screen. A staggeringly young Seth, his hair jet-black, receiving the applause of a large contingent of Japanese fans. A slightly-older Seth, standing side-by-side with two masked luchadores in a run-down building well South of the border. Seth high above the ring on a towering scafold. Seth and his brother, Homicidal Hank walking the aisle in BSCW.]

RESPECT ME

[A montage of Seths death-defying spots. The Nightbringer. The Death Dive. A senton off a ladder directly into a dumpster. (Was that Jeff Hardy he landed on? Must have been one of those “Real” feds.) Seth leapfrogging the ringpost and dropping a guillotine legdrop to the floor. An awesomely Matrix-y Bullet Time Facejam. And (in gratuitously slow slow-mo) The Judas Air. Seth taking idiotly punishing moves… including Insano Manos “Esto no lastimará un pedacito” Razors Edge into the ringpost.)

FEAR ME

[Seth drilling a luchadore with a bulldog from the top rope, directly through the American Announce table. Seth, face dripping with blood, glaring at the camera. A vicious chairshot. The jobber-killing evilness of the Tiger-Driver ’91. A spinning toehold. (Hey, shut up, we might want to sell this tape in Japan, smartguy.)]

[The screen abrubtly goes black]

Caption: THOSE WHO CANNOT LEARN FROM HISTORY ARE DOOMED TO REPEAT IT-George Santayana

[SLAM CUT to a series of shots of Seth raising championship belts above his head. Cruiserweight titles, tag team straps, the battered and buckled “AYOOYFM” title.]

[Cut to black. A black-and-white still shot of “Massive Man” Josh fades up.]

Distant Voice: Cake Walk.

[Slowly, Massive Mans face cross-fades into that of Seth Harker. BOB fans suddenly rush to Youtube, wanting to see Godley and Creams’ “Cry” video again.]

Seth Harker: Stepping Stone.

[He fades out. The Swiss Army Belt fades up, then slowly morphs into… the Only World Title That Matters. A final phrase is whispered.]

Seth Harker : It is inevitable.

[ Blackness. Words explode out at the screen.]

LAUGH

THIS

ONE

OFF

BITCH

[Lightning crashes]

DARKSIDER

[Cut to Black]

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Did Somebody Bring Back the YGBKM title?

October 16th, 2007
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Death

[We open somewhere in Sin City. Death is strolling down a dark street, twirling his scythe.]

Death: (Singing) As a crowd gathers ’round an angry young man, face down on the street with a gun in his hand, in the ghetto. In the ghetTO!

Katie Death: Raaar!

Death: Yes, Katie? I’m working at the moment.

Katie Death: Raa Rar?

Death: There’s supposed to be a gang fight here in a few minutes. A couple new arrivals.

Katie Death: Rarr. Raarrr. Raaar. Doctraaaar. R. R. R.

Death: Plants? What did he have to say to me.

Katie Death: Rar.

Death: He named Nurse Heidi my tag team partner? Are you kidding me?

Katie Death: Raaaaaar.

Death: Well…that means only one thing. Plants. I’m naming you the only fitting partner. Plants. If your tag team partner had his own show, he would bring back the You’ve Gotta Be Kidding Me, I Ain’t Doing That title, and, well, actually, he’d probably replace it with one of his own and award it to himself. Oh yes, him!

Katie: Rar Rar Raaar?

Death: What she said. BWAHAHAHAHA. That’s right. At Massively Cool, it’s going to be Death and Nurse Horny versus, Dr. Silaconne M. Paunch and BOB’s savior himself….Axl. Van. Halen. Oh, and speaking of Axl…I have a little DVD I’d like to show you.

[Death and Katie barge into a slum apartment. The guy who answers the door gets poked in the chest by Death, killing the stoned dude of Lung AIDS. Death pops in the DVD. Yes, Lung AIDS is a real disease. I swear. The DVD comes on to reveal a very thin SMP….wow, SMP sure got bony all of a sudden. Does SMP have cancer or something? He lost all his hair…and skin except for that mask looking thing on his face? Is that a mask? Anyway, SMP is in one of his trademark suits and holding a scalpel on a stage.]

SMP: Get it? Got it? Good!

Crowd: BOOOOOOOO!

SMP: *Ahem* Alright. How about some new material. What did the two condoms say when they walked past the gay bar? Let’s go get shit faced!…BWAHAHAHAHA!

Crowd: BOOOOOOOO!

SMP: What’s the diference between a fag and a freezer? Freezers don’t fart when you pull the meat out…BWAHAHAHA!

Crowd: BOOOOOOOO!

SMP: I’m such a heel. OK. Two queers and two dikes decide to race from San Fransisco to New York. Who do you think wins? The DIKES, because they leave lickety split, while the queers go home and pack their shit! BWAHAHAHA!

Crowd: BOOOOOOOO!

[Death switches off the DVD.]

Katie: Rar raar raa?

Death: Of course that was…NOT me! Silly girl. That was SMP.

Katie: R. R. R. Ra rar.

Death: Well, he didn’t look very fat there. Besides, how could somebody be fat on what BOB pays? Well, Plants, good luck getting a tag yourself. Although…I may have to talk to Generic Ref about not allowing smacks on the ass as tags in Axl’s case. See you at Massively Cool, SMP. And then…whenever the big showdown is, probably in December if my information is correct, it’ll be one on one. And Dr. Death will be IN…THE….BALLROOOOOOOOOOOM! And you will be executed excellently. Wow, that sounded lame. Remind me never to use that 80’s sounding crap again, Katie.

Katie: RA.

[Shots ring out in the distance. Then a siren.]

Death: Crap, I’m late. Get shuffling, Katie. I’ve got promises to fulfill. And miles to go before I kill…

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Training (Part 4)

October 13th, 2007
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Kevin the Pyromaniac

[We open to a cartoon playing on a television set with sumo robots fighting skinny robots. Kevin, however, is not watching this and we see him punching a cardboard cutout of Trey Vincent. Spotting him is an asian looking guy named Patrick.]

Kevin: Stupid Trey Vincent stealing my identity. I can’t use my credit cards, the library wont let me borrow any Dumas books… son of a bitch.

Patrick: I like him.

Kevin: Yeah, well you’re gay.

Patrick: No I’m not! Look, if you’re so pissed at him why don’t you just call him out on it?

Kevin: Are you insane? The guy’s a real wrestler! Do you know what it’s like being a stupid gimmick in a parody fed where everyone looks down on you?

Patrick: Hey, isn’t that breaking…

Kevin: And he’ll have me jobbing to that speech impediment wielding freak XXXtreme Machine for all eternity if I say anything about.

[He holds his head in his hands.]

Kevin: I’m crushed.

[He takes one big swing at the cardboard cutout and knocks it over on top of himself.]

Referee: 1,2,3!

[Patrick grabs Kevin’s hand and pulls him up.]

Patrick: Pull yourself together, you’ve got a chance of winning a shot at the Swiss Army Belt soon so these guys can’t possible look down on you that much. Look on the bright side of life and reach for the stars!

Kevin: You’re so fake these days.

Patrick: And you’re a wanker.

Kevin: Don’t talk like that, you know I hate those limey bastards!

Patrick: Just forget about this stolen identity stuff, watch some TV and start focusing on this match… it’s going to take a miracle for you to win.

Kevin: Gee, thanks.

[Kevin and Patrick sit down to watch cartoons and take a rest from jobbing to inanimate objects. We fade out as some superhero crushes a car with his bare hands.]

rant

Fear Kevin T. Pyromaniac

October 9th, 2007
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Trey Vincent

[Trey Vincent’s black Jeep Grand Cherokee™ braked to a stop outside of a large garage at the Pubic Storage center. Now, that wasn’t a typo, sadly, that’s what the large sign says. From the passenger side, out stepped Misty Waters, who put on some sunglasses to deal with the blinding mostly cloudy day. From the driver’s seat stepped Trey Vincent, fumbling with some keys.]

Misty Waters

TV: Thanks for coming with me, Misty.

MW: No problem, Trey. Though that is a convenient thing to say, just as we step outside.

TV: Well, I was busy enjoying my DevilDriver comp I downloaded.

MW: What?

TV: Very funny. It wasn’t that loud. So, this should be it. Garage number 66.

MW: That’s another odd coincidence, isn’t it?

TV: Why?

MW: Just seems like there’s a whole bunch of 66’s and 666’s going on around BOB right now.

TV: Please. If you knew who edited the shit out of the Bible, you wouldn’t even think twice about such stupid numbers.

MW: Zuh?

TV: Another conversation, another time.

[Trey approaches the garage door and unlocks a padlock. He pulls up the door to reveal tons and tons of boxes, and some covered furniture.]

MW: Well…at least she didn’t sell it, right? And by she, I of course mean Michelle, your ex-wife.

TV: What’s with the weird narration? As if I don’t know you were referring to my ex-wife Michelle when you said she. Who else would have put all of my old belongings into storage in such a cheap-ass storage facility in Minnesota? So what did you do in the rental car? You too lazy to cut a promo? And did douja taste like a Tootsie Roll™?

MW: Wow, look at that. A box!

TV: I’d like to see your box.

MW: I’m sure you would.

TV: I bet it’s not nearly as dusty as these. Note to self: possible gimmick…Dusty Box. The son of a mover, if ya wheeeeel.

MW: Please. It’s not like you’re ever going to get your old job back anyway.

TV: Oh really? It just so happens that I’m working on that right now. I’m in super-secret negotiations….wow…look at this. It’s all my old BOB VCR tapes.

MW: *Sigh* You gonna get all sad about Sarah “The Jobber Slayer” again? Because, honestly, I don’t want to hear you weeping the entire drive back to Sin City. You’ve got a match to worry about, and I’ve got some stuff to do as well.

TV: Ah, right. You’re special referee in a certain match, aren’t you? A certain title match?

MW: Uh-huh…

TV: Make sure Michelle doesn’t get off easy.

MW: Will do, bud.

TV: Thanks. I’ve got to deal with Dr. Thrilla in a Rock, Paper, Scissors match. And that’s why we’re here.

[Misty looks down at what Trey is doing.]

MW: Most pointless trip ever. You couldn’t go to a local store, or anywhere outside, and pick this shit up?

TV: Hell no. These are special. Plus, I needed my video tapes. And I can’t pick those up at a store. Bitch.

MW: Fucker. How did you afford all the gas for this trip?

TV: Credit cards, Misty. Credit cards.

MW: How can you get credit cards?

TV: Me? I can’t. But…(he opens up his wallet)…Kevin T. Pyromaniac sure can.

MW: Oh no! You didn’t!

TV: What? You thought me having an office job wouldn’t result in identity theft? Please.

MW: Trey!

TV: Misty!

MW: You can’t steal people’s identities!

TV: You’re no fun. Now let’s get back to Sin City. We’ve got a long drive. *Sniff* And I miss Sarah!

MW: Awwww…you want a sympathy BJ?

TV: Yeah?

MW: Too bad. Drive.

TV: D’oh! Some day I’ll break you down.

[Misty laughs, as Trey pulls down the garage door and locks it.]

TV: Next month, I’m gonna have to rent a truck and get the rest of this stuff to Sin City. I’m thinking of getting a place there. You know…I could use a roommate…

MW: Seriously?

TV: And a showermate.

MW: (Smiling) Get in the car. We’ll talk…

TV: I can teach you how some bra taking tricks…

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