BOB eWrestling | Rant Zone Archive!

[Kevin The Pyromaniac is sat at his computer googling pictures of people with the same kind of disease as the elephant man.]

Kevin: Wow, these people are fucked up.

[Batak, a not quite pretty Vietnamese girl, and Kevin are on their second date. Only Kevin would take a girl to the library and look up pictures of people with horrible disfigurements and try to print them off so she can take them home with her.]

Batak: Kevin, I know you wanted to go out with me because we share the same interests, but I only like the pyromania side of it. You know, the guts it takes, the length of time to mentally prepare, the rush of exhilaration. All you’ve done is try to get me interested in gore and people with horrible difigurements.

Kevin: You… don’t think this is interesting?

Batak: I want to take a slow walk through the park, watch the setting sun, pick flowers just before they close.

Kevin: But…

[Kevin starts to shudder and comes all over in a cold sweat.]

Kevin: That’s just like counting down the seconds of your life.

Batak: But you’d be doing it with a pretty girl, that’s how people fall in love.

Kevin: People can’t fall in love watching violence to people’s eyes?

Batak: Kevin, there isn’t a girl in the entire world that wants to watch eyes being poked out.

Kevin: Then what the fuck is this all for? You’re nothing but spineless, cardboard imagination having morons. Can’t you think outside your precious box for one second? I don’t want to waste my life counting numbers on my wrist.

Batak: Well, you’re not going to get laid then, are you?

[She stands up out of her chair and marches right out of the library. Kevin hangs his head a little.]

Kevin: What a drag.

[He starts typing a new search in google. Female, fast talking gore hounds.]

Google: Search Results 0

Kevin: You boring bitches, you really are another kettle of fish.

[The promo ends with a clip of a woman stabbing a man in the stomach and dancing around with him before fading to black. It must have been on youtube or something, don't ask me.]

Kevin the Pyromaniac rant e-fed, Kevin the Pyromaniac, parody, wrestling

Caption: ABOUT A WEEK AGO, IN A PLACE NOT TOO FAR AWAY

[The scene? Raccoon City. Kurt Angel has an overweight zombie locked in the Angel Lock.]

KA: Tap! Tap! Tap!

Group of Zombies: You suck. Grrr. You suck. Brains.

[Kurt's cell phone rings.]

KA: Hang on, Zombie Joe, I’ll finish making you tap out in a jiffy. And when did I get a Verizon cell phone? I MUST have been stoned… Hello? Yes, it’s me. Where am I? Where are YOU? And where is that? And how do I get there from here?

[Meanwhile, the zombie is shuffling up to its feet.]

KA: OK. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ve got to make this fat Zombie Joe tap out.

*CHOMP*

KA: Owww! What the? Did you just eat my hair?

Zombie: *Coughcoughhack*

KA: Oh no! A bald spot! This calls for drastic measures. 411? Get me the number for Sy Sperling. Oh, it’s still you, Death? What did you want anyway? Oh, right. Let me just finish off Fat Zombie Joe.

[Kurt hits an Angel Slam on the zombie right into a conveniently placed wood chipper. Insert horror movie sounds of flesh, muscle and bone being shredded in said wood chipper.]

KA: Time to snort some zombie dust. It’s gonna be a hallucination. A DAMN hallucination! *Snort* Now that’s the stuff. Damn, I should’ve saved his head for a bong…Oh well. Next time. Say, Death, you still there? Do you have a razor I can borrow when I come over. I don’t think I can afford to join the Hair Club for Men. Ha ha very funny. It didn’t cost me a damn thing to join the Hierarchy. Yes, just my soul…but I wasn’t using it anyway.

[Fade to blurry.]

Kurt Angel rant Death, e-fed, e-wrestling, Kurt Angel, parody, wrestling

Outside of a fenced yard, Trey Vincent was taunting a beagle dog by smacking the fence with his skull cane.

“Aww, leave the puppy alone,” Sarah “The Jobber Slayer” pleaded. “It could be Kurt’s puppy.”

“Oh, don’t start that jobber with a puppy stuff again just because he turned heel. You see, this dog reminds me of Kevin the Pyromaniac.”

“Really?” Sarah asked. “He doesn’t smell like piss and gasoline.”

“True. But look at it. Short. Multi-colored hair, or fur, or whatever that is. And I just want to bash his face in!”

“Trey! That’s a poor defenseless dog! And may I just add, you have mondo issues.”

“No kidding. Did I mention I also want to shove a fish hook up his asshole and use him as Sharc bait?”

“I don’t get it.”

“Inside joke that only I’ll get.”

“How VERY useful. More inside jokes.” Sarah sighs.

“I want to pretend I’m Bob Novak, minus the brain tumor, and run Kevin down in my car.”

“Trey!”

“Yeah, that was in bad taste, I know. My Jeep is far too valuable to stain with Kevin’s blood.”

“Totally,” Sarah agreed.

“Hey! What are you doing to my dog?” a voice called from somewhere further up in the yard. A guy came running down toward Trey, Sarah, the dog, and sure, why not, the fence.

“That’s not your dog,” Trey answered.

“It is now.”

The kid stuffs the beagle under his shirt as the dog lets out muffled shrikes and struggles. “Ow! Quit scratching me you bastard! Hey, don’t you have a match with Kevin the Pyromaniac coming up?”

Trey and Sarah look at each other.

“I think he stole my memory, because I just forgot my line,” Sarah said.

“Don’t I know you?” the man with the dog under his shirt asked.

“No,” Sarah answered.

“No, that’s the line,” the man with the dog under his shirt explained.

“Ohhhh. Right then. You know. I’ve really got to say, having Kay Fabe grope me was far more entertaining than dealing with your freak friends, Trey.”

“I’ve never seen this guy before when I cast him for this Rant. I swear!”

“I believe you,” Sarah said. “I’m outie.” Sarah wanders away.

“Anyway,” the man with the dog under his shirt continued. “I can tell you everything you want to know about Kevin. He used to hang around with my brother all the time. You remember Bruce?”

“The Evil New Zealander?”

“No, no. Bruce the Kleptomaniac.”

“As long as you aren’t Terry the Hulkamaniac…I HATE Hogan. And I think Brooke has testicles where her vagina should be…”

“No, no,” the man with the dog said. “I’m Herbert the Tricotillomaniac. TRICOTILLOMANIA~!”

“Tricotillomania?”

“I pull out my hair. That’s why a got the dog. I need to cover in some bald spots.” Herbert bends over and reveals several bloody, bald spots.

“Sweet. So, you think you can tell me all of Kevin’s weaknesses?”

“Yep. All of them. Argh!” Herbert rips out a patch of hair and throws it at the ground.

“You ever do that to a girl when you were doing her doggy style?”

A muffled bark.

“Not you, stupid dog…”

Trey Vincent rant e-fed, Kevin the Pyromaniac, parody, Sarah "The Jobber Slayer", Trey Vincent, wrestling

[We open once again upon the Residence of Evil, where the VW Beetle... of Evil... has just pulled into the driveway. The doors swing open, and Axl steps out from the front passenger's side seat, before heading to the back door and opening it. From within emerges the Lord of Darkness. No, not THAT 'Lord of Darkness... or even THAT 'Lord of Darkness'. Not that 'Lord of Darkness' either. No, the one I refer to, is none other than Garth Vader, the one and only. Viruz exits from his spot behind the steering wheel, and the trio head toward the inner sanctum of the Residence...]

> > > a few minutes later < < <

[Axl and Viruz are testing out the latest prototype of the very first widely released X-Station game, 'Super Mario Whatever', when four Dollar Store Troopers walk into the den from the kitchen... all wearing cheap "rapper" gear, ontop of their customary Trooper attire. They part to the sides, and Garth walks onto the scene...]

Garth: *wheeze* Axl-walker… Viruz. I have assembled the Troopers here for an emergency meeting… to call down within your beings, and pull forth the power…

Garth: … of the FUNK.

[Axl and Viruz look at eachother with a quizzical expression across their faces.]

Axl: [looking at Garth] Uhm… What the funk is the… Funk?

Viruz: … [looks at Garth... then back at Axl] Ya know, Trable might have been right. We do sort of get cruddy material.

Axl: Hey, I try hard, ‘kay?

Garth: … Again, I’m lost…

Axl: Sorry, inside reference…

Garth: *shakes head* Annnyway… *wheeze* … Really need to check with the doctor about that asthma… But back on point. The Funk is the power… the inner energy… the “force” if you will, within us all, to bring out something incredible… something stupendous… something… Fresh, Hot, and Spankadellic!

Viruz: [looking at Axl] Ya SURE we got the RIGHT Vader this time?

Axl: I… think so…

Garth: Ugh… In other words, you two are going to have a second chance to rap, but this time, I’m going to provide you with something VERY powerful. Something you didn’t have back at the day care center.

Axl: A wooden paddle to smack those kids around with?

Garth: No! A beatbox!

Axl: … Wow.

Viruz: Can I get back to playing the game? It’s VERY important, and CAN’T wait!

Axl: STOP CAPITALIZING EVERYTHING!!!

Viruz: …

Axl: And cut it with the damn ‘…’s! CHRIST!!!

Viruz:

Axl: ARGGGHHH!!!

Garth: These four Troopers are going to provide the beatbox for the most masterful combination of rhyme and rhythm ever!

Axl: I highly doubt that…

Viruz: :p

Axl: WILL YOU STOP THAT?!

Garth: Hit it boys! And May the Funk Be With Yooooooouuuuuuuuu!!!

[And so - ]

Garth: *wheeze*

[...]

Garth: I need an inhaler…

[The Troopers cup their hands around their mouths and begin a beat, while Axl and Viruz begin to rap. Well, this oughta be... terrible.]

Axl: Yo dawg, yo dawg, YO!
My name is Axl, The Great’s an asshole.
I crap things with more cred than ‘XFactor’ Trable.
The Great has the nerve tah call a guy like ME a tool?
He must be talkin’ about my nuts and bolt, cuz if he is, that’s cool.

Viruz: I -

Axl: I ain’t gonna cut him down for wantin’ a piece of The Axl.
Just as long as he knows, I ain’t a homosexual.
But if HE is, then that’s fine, that’s just Great.
Better for him to go out with a feminine looking guy than that wife that looks like a primate.

Viruz: The –

Axl: The dude’s got a slut for a daughter, named Lauren or some shit,
The chick’s probably got the gat dam Grand Canyon for a clit.
One of his boys is a retard, who’s just not that smart…
His other son’s named Nick. Atleast he doesn’t accidentally blow the house apart!

Viruz: And –

Axl: And then you’ve got the grandma, the dusty old witch.
Wah wah wah wah wah. Decipher THAT one, bitch!
And Petey, you’re your own number one fan.
The only action you ever get is from your right or left hand!

Viruz: … Ahem. So -

Axl: So, to sum this shit up, cuz I know you two got ADD,
You have only one chance to defeat the Hierarchy,
And that’s if XFactor dies and the Great passes too,
So we have tah face two undead zombies. Instead ah just two braindead foo’s!!!

Viruz: … Foo’s? … Axl, you didn’t let me get any lines in! Not even a word in edge-wise!

Axl: Huh. Well, go ahead. Say something.

Viruz: … Word.

Axl: …

[Yeah... as I thought. Terrible.]

Garth: Dammit! I could have sworn the beatbox thing was what got Trable over! But this rap was just… just… Well, what do you think judges?

[The camera switches to three judges at a desk. One, a black man. One, a white woman. And the third, a white man. A BRITISH white man. Yep, this is familiar...]

Black Guy: Yo, man, that was some crazy shit right there. … Crazy as in bad. Really. Seriouslly, just plain bad. … Yo.

White Chick: I love it! It’s wonderful, it’s awesome, it’s fabulous! … Oops, sorry, let me take my headphones off, I was just listening to “Straight Up”! Uhm… from what I could actually hear… yeah, your rapping stinks. Very much. … Sorry.

British Dude: Pip pip, cheerio, and all that good rubbish. As for the “rap”, if you can really call it that… rubbish. Without the ‘good’ part. The absolute most terrible, horrible, terrible, awful, terrible… did I mention terrible?

Axl/Viruz: YES!

British Dude: – thing I’ve EVER had the dishonor of listening to. Abysmal. And terrible.

Axl/Viruz: WE GET IT!

Garth: Well, *wheeze*, it’s obvious ‘The Funk ™’ isn’t going to help you defeat Great and Pete… Maybe the Shchwartz… I hear that SpaceBalls FlameThrower packs some… heat. … Geez… This script is…

British Dude: Terrible?

Garth: Uhm… yeah. That.

Axl: Hey, I said I try my damndest. It’s just hard, what with the… thinking. … I’m hungry.

Garth: Well, damn… Axl, maybe you should just do what you’re best at. Talking. … You need another balloon microphone, I’ve got plenty.

Axl: … No thanks.

[Axl plops down on the sofa, and while Viruz returns to plugging away at his beta, Axl begins to share a few words with... ugh... "The Axl-Holics"...]

Axl: Hello, my Kingdom. It’s good to see you again. As you know, at Power is Stolen, the Hierarchy has an opportunity… a SHOT at a title shot… against the number one rising star in Brawlers today, The Great… and his flunky.

Viruz: YES! Level 2!

Axl: … You’ve been on the first level for FIVE hours…

Viruz: I know… I’m good at making games. Never said I was good at playing them…

Axl: … Anyway, Great has stated that he hopes for my prescence in the contest, so that Great can “destroy” me. And while normally, I wouldn’t just bow to the whim of another… in fact, if there’s to be ANY bowing, it’s to be done at MY feet… Well, I’m going to let you know Great. I’ll be there. My brother over here? He’ll be there as well. And the two of us… the Brothers of Jawesomeness… instead of being destroyed? We’re going to be the ones destroying the two of you greased up monkey butts!!! Not just for the sake of the titles… NOT just for the sake of the Kingdom… But because Pete… you broke one of the King’s Golden Rules!

Viruz: Uh, lemme guess… he called you a que-

Axl: DON’T you dare! Noone is allowed to mention that word around me! And Peter! I am not… and I repeat, NOT… that word. I am no longer a lipstick and fingernail polish wearing goth poser. I Am no longer a hair-metalist with caked on makeup! I AM… me. Myself. I am simply… The Axl. The Axl that the entire wheel that is BoB rotates constantly around. For without me, BoB would SUFFER! It would flounder, slowly dying… slowly creeping closer, and closer, and closer still… to its dying breathe. And with me as one of its champions? BoB will become the very pinnacle of professional amateur fake-ass e-sports entertainment wrestling!!!

Viruz: This game sucks.

Axl: You MADE the game! I thought you said you were good at that?

Viruz: Uh… I lied?

Axl: … As I said, Pete, I am NOT… you know what. And the next time you refer to me as such, I shall have to force you to choke on those words! And furthermore, while my bit at the day care center may have sucked, my rap just a few moments ago? It was better than each and every last one of your pathetic ‘rhymes’, wrapped up and rolled into one huge, gigantanormous ball of… of… WIGGEROCITY!!!

Viruz: DAMMIT! FUCK!!!~!1 Game Over!

Axl: Shit dude, you suck at the game you yourself made. That’s… that’s just sad. But you know what won’t be sad?

Viruz: When I edit the game so you win by beating the first level?

Axl: … When you and I defeat Great and Trable, and go on to obliterate Studnuts and that guy ‘??’, whoever HE is, for the tag titles! And Pete… Great? When the four of us meet, what happened to Thrilla and Paradox… well, it’ll PALE in comparison to what the Hierarchy does to the two of YOU! You’ll be dead! You’ll be deader THAN dead! In fact, you’ll be SO dead, it’ll give an all new meaning to what the word dead even means! It’ll mean… uh… REALLY… REALLY fuckin’ dead! We’re going to do things that Space Cop and Space Duck and Space Dick and Space Cock and Space Spacely never even DREAMED of! … Except the raping part.

Axl: Because I’m not gay.

Axl: …

Axl: PERIOD.

Viruz: OH, FUCK THIS SHIT!

[Viruz sends the controller hurtling through the tv screen.]

Viruz: Uh… didn’t Michelle buy that thing the other day?

Axl: Man… it’s going to be hard to replace a 60 inch, plasma screen tv… Wait, I’ve got an idea.

> > > a few minutes later < < <

Axl: There, that oughta do it.

Viruz: You think she'll notice?

[The camera takes a quick shot of an 8 inch, black and white tv built into an A.M. radio...]

Axl: Uh... nah. ... Probably. Aw well, you did it, so what's the big deal? ... I mean, if you're me. ... Sorry, bro. Anyway, I'm hungry, I think I'll go grab a bite. Ya want anything?

Viruz: The number of a good doctor... I think I'm gonna need it...

|the|

Axl rant Axl, e-fed, ewrestling, Garth Vader, parody, Spacecop, Spaceduck, The Great, Viruz, wrestling, XFactor Pete Trable

[The scene opens as Kevin flicks water off the tips of his fingers. He and his mentor, Hobo Ken, are fishing.]

Kevin: Don’t you think trying to catch fish with your bare hands is a little too simplistic?

Hobo Ken: Nah, only assholes use fish hooks.

Kevin: So why aren’t we?

[The two share a wholesome laugh that only two assholes are able to share together. Hobo Ken puts Kevin in a headlock and grinds his knuckle into his skull.]

Hobo Ken: Ok, we’ve done some of the things on the list. We gutted a horse and climbed inside to see what it would feel like.

Kevin: Yeah, there’s a lifetime of fond memories to be had with that.

Hobo Ken: We ran over some prostitutes.

Kevin: They weren’t prostitutes, they were catholic schoolgirls.

Hobo Ken: How could you tell?

Kevin: There were nuns with them!

Hobo Ken: You’re naiive, that’s the kind of get up pimps wear these days. It’s supposed to make them look cool. Well, anyway, we ran over some prostitutes, that’s the main thing.

Kevin: We threw a bucket of baby sick on that church wall.

Hobo Ken: Yes, that was very satisfying. I thought the spray effect was well executed, how it flew in all directions.

Kevin: Yeah, you love throwing vomit at stuff.

Hobo Ken: That’s what’s life is all about! And if I’m the best in the world at it… then I’ve won.

Kevin: You’re still an ugly motherfucker.

Hobo Ken: The fuck do I care?

Kevin: True.

Hobo Ken: We still have to force people to break mirrors and walk under ladders at knife point.

Kevin: I smashed a guy’s head into a car window and watched his body slide down, does that count?

Hobo Ken: How damaged was his head?

Kevin: I wouldn’t say it was CAVED in, but it was fucked up all the same.

Hobo Ken: Ok, we still need to tickle some pre-school kids until milk blows ou of their noses.

Kevin: That’s not mean.

Hobo Ken: … And then punch them!

Kevin: Where did your imagination go Hobo Ken.

Hobo Ken: I washed it down the drain, it’s in heaven now.

Kevin: Or hell.

Hobo Ken: Probably both, you can’t really have one extreme without the other.

Kevin: Well I still have an imagination and I say we should make snowballs out of ashes and throw them at old ladies!

Hobo Ken: And if they fall over, break a hipbone or two, and their purse happens to accidentally get snatched…

Kevin: Then what’s the harm in that?

[The two laugh together like a couple of old buddies.]

Hobo Ken: We are such assholes.

Kevin: You said it Hobo Ken!

[Kevin covers the homeless man in gasoline and sets him on fire, he pushes him over and makes the cover.]

Ref: 1, 2, 3!

Kevin: I’m not a jobber anymore! PYROMANIA!

Kevin the Pyromaniac rant e-fed, e-wrestling, Kevin the Pyromaniac, parody, wrestling

“Love is a vicous cycle.
Seeped in torment…
Washed in guilt…
Bleeding with pain…”

“With one fell swoop, a life is forever damaged.
With one fell swoop, a life can be healed.
With one fell swoop… it all begins…”

“Again.”

“I seek the pain… and embrace its touch.
For that which is cold… is rippling with warmth.
That which is dark… is the brightest light.
And that which is hurt-y… will forever bring love.”

“The end is only the beginning.
The spike’s point… the whips brush…
The chain’s lash… The toilet’s flush…
Will send you soaring higher…”

“… than heavens above.”

“Quoth the Pigeon…”

“… Here Comes the Pain.”

- coo -

Pigeon rant e-fed, e-wrestling, parody, Pigeon, wrestling

[Kevin the Pyromaniac is on a date with a Vietnamese girl he found on google. She shares his interest in fire, but the sideshow he has brought her to is not quite her cup of tea.]

Kevin: Wow, so that’s what horse puke feels like.

[Kevin has his hands in a bowl of slime.]

Batak: Can we go? This is gross.

Kevin: Do you know how much blood and sweat it took to get tickets to this thing? It’s not every day you get fucked up stuff like this.

[The Vietnamese girl has a look on her face like she is pissed off down to the bone marrow.]

Kevin: Look at this, the skeleton of the world’s thinnest man… Jesus, someone should have just given this guy a ham sandwich.

Batak: Do you bring all your dates to places where they have pickled elephant fetuses in jars?

Kevin: Most of them can’t stomach the shit in these shows, they’d just run out screaming like a headless chicken.

[She taps her heel like she is about to do the same.]

Kevin: Look at this! The remnants of the exploded brain of the world record holder for most amount of salt water drank.

Batak: I’m supposed to do a spit take? That’s just shrivled up beef jerky.

Kevin: He had beef jerky for brains? That’s just stupid.

Batak: Can we just hurry and look at the rest of these things so we can leave?

Kevin: One second, I gotta go piss like a racehorse.

[As Kevin scurries away to the men's room, the Vietnamese girl starts looking at some of the displays. There are rubber representations of the biggest snakes in the world, pickled intestines, photos of whitewash fences covered in dust and enough moths stuck to the wall with pins to feed a family for a week.]

Kevin: I’m back, shit, you ought to have seen some of the stuff they have in that bathroom.

Batak: Kevin, if you grew up a bit, you should work at a place like this.

Kevin: I work for Brawlers on a Budget and that’s never going to change, it’s not quite as good as being a pornstar but it’s the next best thing. I can’t drop everything just to work here, I’ve still got my autobiography to write.

Batak: Let’s just get out of here, you might have a sick mind, but I don’t.

[She pulls him by the arm, he opens and closes the fingers on his free hand to try and grab onto something.]

Kevin: But it was real, I’d finally made it here.

Kevin the Pyromaniac rant brawlers on a budget, e-fed, ewrestling, fantasy wrestling, Kevin the Pyromaniac, parody, roleplay, wrestling

[The scene opens to the exterior of Sinister City Day Care Center, where the yellow VW Beetle of Evil has just pulled up to the curb. The engine dies, and the doors swing open... as the masked Viruz and grungy attired Axl remove themselves from the vehicle.]

Viruz: I just hope he hasn’t taken a lightsaber to the little rascals. We don’t need a lawsuit on our hands…

Axl: Hey, if those brats get on Garth’s bad side, I say more power to him. I might just join in on the kiddy slaughter!

Viruz: [looks at Axl with a raised eyebrow] You’re one sick individual, ya know that?

Axl: I know. It’s in the family blood.

[Axl and Vi head inside the center... where they come upon a sight that forces a giggle from them both.]

Garth: Greetings Young Axl-walker, Viruz… … *wheeze* Do I sense… laughter? Directed at ME?!

Axl: Calm your jets, man, it’s just… *snort* Dude, that get-up!

Garth: What? *wheeze* You’ve never witnessed THE Dark Clown?

Viruz: You mean… the ICP?

Garth: NO, you fool! The Dark Clown, Garth Klownius! The lord and master of all that is evil in the galaxy! He is the father of Garth Maul and I. *wheeze* And this is my tribute costume, in his honor.

Axl: You know what I think?

Garth: What?

Axl: I think you’re just acting like a goofball for these little pukes.

Garth: What?! *wheeze* What would give you such an idea! Why, I -

Kid #1: When are you gunna make anutter crazy, wacky, goofy face, Garthy the Clown?

Kid #2: How’s about anutter crazy, wacky, goofy ba-woon aminal, Garthy the Clown?

Kid #3: I wunna see anutter crazy, wacky, goofy magic trick, Garthy the Clown!

Garth: Why don’t I take my crazy, wacky, goofy lightsaber and cut you little shits into ribbons!!!

Kids: …

Viruz: Wow… you really have a way with children.

Garth: Comes with putting up with Dollar Store Troopers all the time. They match up with kids on the intellectual level rather well… Hey kids, why don’t these two fellas head into the costume closet of fun, and put on a show for you all! Doesn’t that sound like FUN?!

Kids: …

Kid #4: As long as they don’t cut us intah ribbons…

[Garth leads the Hierarchy brothers toward the back of the center, where a large costume closet is prepared. Axl and Viruz head inside, and within minutes, Garth lets the kids know that the brothers are ready to entertain.]

Garth: Ok, kiddies! *wheeze* Introducing… one of them is GREAT! The other is whiter than a loaf ah Wonderbread! *wheeze* They are – The Mediocre, and ‘X-File’ Peterrr GRIFFIN!!!

Kid #5: … Who?

Garth: They’re the two biggest sensations in the the world of proffesional, amateur, fake-ass, e-sports entertainment wrestling… today!

Kid #5: … Oh.

[Garth hits 'play' on a colorful, Hannah-Montanah themed stereo, which begins playing 'Ice Cold Thug Jizzy''s latest single "Bitches Up Off the Hizzy", in stores NOW! Not at Wal-Mart.]

[Axl and Viruz walk out of the closet... which I'll refrain from making any lewd comments about the fact that that sounds just a TAD wrong. Axl, wears a loud, buttoned up Hawaiian shirt ; awful lime green slacks ; and penny loafers (named for the fact that they couldn't possibly cost more than a single cent...), with his hair tied back in a ponytail. For some reason he's wearing reading glasses even though he doesn't NEED glasses to read... or for anything else, really...]

[Viruz is dressed in the WHITE-est, quote, unquote, "gangsta" apparel this side of Robert Van Winkle. Not to mention quite possibly the weirdest... A chain around his neck hooked to a large LaserDisc... a backwards "Weird" Al Yankovic cap... and a "grill" consisting of tiny, glued together computer chips. And to top things off, he's wearing a throw-back jersey. A Sinister City Sugar Daddies, #000 jersey to be exact, the very same numbers of world reknowned original Sugar Daddy player 'Kareem "White Everywhere, 'Cept Down There" Uvwheet'. Garth takes two baloons, and twists them both into "microphones", which he passes over to both Axl and Viruz.]

Axl: … We’re supposed to talk into these?

Garth: Come on, it’s for the little ones!

Axl: Dude, you’re SO sucking up for a fatter paycheck. It’s pathetic.

Garth: I know… *wheeze*

Axl: [turns to the kids] Hey kids! You’re looking at THE Mediocre,
And unlike Bozo here, I’m no joker!
The Mediocre is hotter than a red hot poker!
And if your supervisor was a chick with panties, the Mediocre would soak her!

Viruz: Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, YO~!!!1

Viruz: I’m Peter Griffin and I’m here to say,
That the ‘X-File’’s not… uh… really gay!
I will raise the roof in this here house…
And kick the butt of a little mouse!

Axl: … Dude. That sucked.

Viruz: Better than your impression of the ‘Great’…

Kid #6: MY DAD COULD RAP BETTER THAN YOU TWO!!!

Viruz: Who’s your dad?

Kid #6: I really don’t know, cuz mama said she was like… somethin’ called a ‘group hug’.

Axl: You mean a GROUPIE! Hahaha, your mom was some cheap trick for a big rock star like I used to be! Hell, maybe you’re MY kid! … Damn, I hope your mom isn’t watching this… She might make me pay support!

Kid #6: Oh, wait, NOW I remember! She said his name was, uh… Pete… Table?

Viruz: Uh oh…

Axl: TRABLE?!?! You’re one of Trable’s bastard kids!?!?! After all the smack talk he’s been aiming at me, why I oughta… I oughta… ARGGH!!!

[Axl suddenly pounces on the 4 year old, lunging for his throat. Jeez, this guy'll attack anybody... commentators, children... Good thing I'm just a disembodied voice, or he might... Phfff, what am I sayin'? He couldn't take me on his BEST day!]

Viruz: You seem to forget his first round match in the Grand Slam tourney…

[... I TRIED to forget that. THANKS FOR BRINGING IT BACK UP!... dork.]

[Anyway, before Axl can do too much damage, Viruz and Garthy the Clown - ]

Garth: HEY!

[Sorry. Garth and Vi drag Axl off the kid, as the leader of the Hierarchy screams obsceneties.]

Axl: Ya lilly livered, farfanuggin’, razza-frackin’ -

[... Don't think we'll be needing the bleep button for this particular rant...]

Axl: – gall darn son-of-a-Massachussetes BASTARD!

[Damn, too late. Missed the bleep button by a hair. Well, that's a good way to squeeze by the censors, just pad your words with kindgergarten level "curse" words, before unleashing "the big one". That Axl, I'll tell ya, he's a slippery devil...]

[Viruz and Garth try to calm down Axl, but... ]

Viruz: Well, hey man, look on the bright side. Remember when I said that your, as you said, awesome abs, chiseled torso, and beautiful biceps, would cause the kids to vomit?

Axl: … So?

Viruz: Well, atleast they didn’t-

Kid #7: *barf*

Axl: NOT MY WONDERFUL PENNY LOAFERS! WHY YOU LITTLE – !!!

Viruz: No Axl! We can’t afford a lawsuit!!! … Hell, we don’t have anything for them to take… GO AHEAD, BEAT THE SNOT OUT OF THE LITTLE FUCKER!!!

Garth: [using his powers to halt Axl in his tracks] Axl-walker!!! You must NOT allow this tiny, insignificant ant to cloud your mind!

Axl: But… I spent my last penny on these shoes! … I mean gazillion dollars… Yeah, that’s the ticket.

[As Axl stands right before the kid, fist clenched and raised, as the child cowers in fear, Garth uses his powers to slowly pull Axl's fingers apart from eachother, and form a flat palm, directed toward the top of the kid's head. Vader then uses a little more power to "Force" Axl to pat the kid on his head. The kid winces... but soon begins to smile.]

Garth: Now see, doesn’t that make you feel better?

Axl: I… I guess…

Garth: Good.

[Garth then whips out his lightsaber, and severs the child's body clean in half.]

Garth: And that made ME feel better! Much – *wheeze* – MUCH better!

Kids: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Kid #8: Mean ol’ Garfy the Clown jus’ killed Steve Roydz Jr!!!

Axl: … Uh…

Viruz: Man, the Brothers Garth must be on a Roydz family killing spree…

Garth: And now Axl… it is time. Time for me to reveal my TRUE identity!!!

*dun-dun-DUNNN!*

Axl: *gasp*

Garth: Axl… I am… I Am… I AM…

[Garth removes the helmet... to reveal - ]

Viruz: … Mary Benz?

Axl: Who?

Viruz: I was searching Yahoogle, and found an article on this woman… she used to be a Day Care Supervisor… until she abused a small kid.

Axl: … Wait… so you’re saying… That Garth Vader… is a WOMAN?!

*dun-dun-DUNNN!*

Viruz: …

Mary: Actually, fellas, I only used the DISGUISE of Garth Vader to trick the little brats here, and the employees, into believing I was someone decent. Someone wholesome. Someone they could trust.

Axl: … We ARE talking about Garth, right?

Viruz: Well, from what I can tell, he’s alot less evil than this bitch…

Mary: And now that one more annoying little toddler has met their grisly demise, I may take my leave! Ciao, babes!

[Axl and Viruz look at eachother.]

Axl: No -

Viruz: – Way.

Axl: [looks back at Mary] You SO didn’t just disgrace THE most sacred parting phrase in all of the English vernacular!!!

Viruz: YOU BITCH!!!

Mary: I -

*slice!*

[Suddenly, from behind, Mary was quickly cut in two, thanks to the lightsaber of the TRUE Garth Vader. A guy who wouldn't be caught DEAD in a clown suit, regardless of it being the traditional garb of his father.]

Garth: Huh? Traditional garb… *wheeze* Have I missed something?

Axl: [puts an arm over Garth's shoulder, and they, along with Viruz, walk toward the front door] Garth… it’s a long story. Which I’ll have to conveniantly tell you in between scenes, so that the writer doesn’t actually have to write any of it.

Viruz: Classic Hollywood Writing Strategery! Ya gotta love it!

Garth: … What?

[Axl and Viruz share a hearty, "closing sitcom scene" laugh, walking with Garth to the Beetle of Evil... Garth seeming to be more than just a bit puzzled...]

|continued|

Axl rant Axl, e-fed, e-wrestling, Garth Vader, parody, The Great, Viruz, wrestling, XFactor Pete Trable

[We open to a scene from a day or two ago. The camera is set upon the dinner room of the Residence of Evil, where Axl is single handedly clearing the table. He, Viruz, Michelle, and newest Hierarchy addition Kurt Angel finished their meal a few minutes ago, and the Heavenly Champ has taken his leave. While Axl puts away the dishes and silverware, Viruz stands near, speaking with his brother.]

Viruz: Bro, that was a great meal Michelle prepared.

Axl: [looks at Viruz] You actually think she PREPARED that?

Viruz: You mean she didn’t?

Axl: Heheh… Dude, seriously, she ordered that shit from a resteraunt down the block, hurried over here before I got home, set the table like it was an elegant feast, and acted like she just slaved over a hot stove for hours upon hours. The plate’s are sort of a dead give-away.

Viruz: Whadya mean?

Axl: Well, the fact that the plates are plastic and have the logo of the resteraunt underneath?

Viruz: Ahhh…

Axl: It’s starting to become something of a trend. But hey, atleast it beats the nauseating garbage the Great’s wife more than likely plunks down in front of him and his putrid family. I’d hate to have to choke down whatever nasty, grimy, barf-inducing crap that wench serves every night.

Viruz: You’re not kidding. And the dinner accomplished our mission. Kurt’s on board… from what I can tell, anyway. And when the On-Demand rolls around? Great and his lackey, Peter Griffin, won’t know what’s hit them.

Axl: It’s going to be QUITE the interesting event, you’ve got that right… [Axl's cell rings] Oh, that’s gotta be Garth. He’s working a shift at the Sinister City Day Care Center.

Viruz: … Why?

Axl: Well, he’s in the business of evil. And nothing’s more evil than vile little, snot-nosed kids. Rotten to the core, I tell ya… Just look at the Great’s brat… Johnny 5 or whatever. [answers the phone] Hey… Yo Garth, how’s it going… You don’t say… You don’t say! … You don’t say. Ok, we’ll be right over.

*click*

Viruz: Well? What was it about?

Axl: He didn’t say!

Viruz: ::)

Axl: Heheh, actually, he called us over to the center. He wants us to meet and greet with the little punks. He’s telling them some BIG wrestling stars are coming over.

Viruz: … Who?

Axl: … US!!! Numbnuts!

Viruz: Uh… we’re ‘big wrestling stars’?

Axl: Hey man, I don’t know about you, but as far as I’m concerned, the entire WORLD of professional sports entertainment revolves around the greatness that is The Me. And when those kids take a look at my awesome abs, my chiseled torso… my beautiful biceps… why, they’re going to fall madly in love with me!

Viruz: Or vomit…

Axl: WHAT WAS THAT?!

Viruz: I said OR VOMIT.

Axl: Oh.

Viruz: …

Axl: Well, we better be headed off. You drive.

Viruz: Why do I always have to drive? Last time I almost ran into a pole…

Axl: Last time I drived I ran over the Mayor of Sinister City.

Viruz: You know, I never asked this, but… who IS the Mayor of Sinister City?

Axl: Well, until a week ago, it was Prancer Giuliani. But, thanks to my vehicular “accident”, someone near and dear to my heart has obtained the position after being fired from her position at [adult swim] for being “too risque”.

Viruz: Wait… you’re saying?

Axl: Our mom!

Viruz: Excelsior!

*they high-five*

Axl: Now not only does the Hierarchy control BoB -

Viruz: Well, besides the titles… and the actual ownership of the company… or the ‘Vice President in Charge of Everything’ position… or even the ‘Acting BigBOSS’ position -

Axl: AHEM!

Viruz: Sorry.

Axl: – But now, our wonderful mother controls the city we now call home. It’s a lovely thing, isn’t it bro?

Viruz: Meh… she always preffered you.

Axl: Which only makes it all the sweeter!

Viruz: Says you…

Axl: And I’m ALLLways right, dude. Now grab the keys, and let’s blow this popsicle stand!

Viruz: As long as I control the radio. I hate listening to that loud grunge crap you’ve started blasting out of the stereo non-stop…

Axl: Hey, man. I AM grunge. Besides, it beats the techno shit you’re always listening to. Those posers don’t even use REAL instruments!

Viruz: UH-HUH! They do too use real instruments! The electro-synth is a thing of musical magnifence!

Axl: Yeah… about as magnificent as the sound of a wet fart.

Viruz: >:(

Axl: ;D

[And so, the brothers grabbed the keys, charged up the Volkswagon, and charged off to the day care center... onward and upward for great justice.]

- continued -

Axl rant Axl, e-fed, parody, Viruz, wrestling

Kobe Gyant is seen in front of a television that is looping Axl’s “Three Points” promo. Kobe, naturally, is asleep. On his chest is a piece of paper with a few simple words:

Axl = Basketball

Kobe = The Net

“Three Points” = Air Ball

Go back to the minor minors, son!

Kobe Gyant rant Axl, e-fed, e-wrestling, Kobe Gyant, parody, wrestling