BOB eWrestling | Rant Zone Archive!

(The Great and Pete Trable are sitting in The Great’s dinning room. They’re at the table surrounded by various trinkets to construct what looks like an elementary school project. Cardboard. Glitter. Elmer’s® glue sticks. More construction paper of different colors. Faux rubies and diamonds. And leather. )

The Great: The trick is to make Dr. Plants think he’s in a title match to WIN belts instead of lose them. Then he’ll choke. And we’ll capture the titles!

Pete: Yo, dis glue stinks. Can’t we just kick dey ass, yo?

The Great: The Great has done research. The Great knows Dr. Plants has a history of dropping the proverbial ball when titles are at stake. If you and The Great can make SMP think our titles are better and on the line—

Pete: I get you, dogg. Yo, Nick, hook a bruddah up wit some more glit.

Nick: You’re using all my glitter! MOM!

The Great: Johnny, any suggestions on how to make these championship belts more presentable? Aren’t you kindergartners doing stuff like this all the time?

Little Johnny: Please, Father. You know I’m only in kindergarten due to my age restrictions. I don’t participate in “their little projects.” I’m there because I have to be. Otherwise, you could easily bypass me to college sophomore where I could be, right now, fratting with some co-eds instead of doing this juvenile project with you Neanderthals.

The Great: That didn’t answer The Great’s question.

Little Johnny: Well then it’s simple. More glitter.

Nick: MOM!

Pete: Hey yo, ain’t we gonna get in trouble fo’ creatin’ our own titles an’ shit?

The Great: The Great doesn’t think so. This is under different circumstances. This is borne of necessity, not ego driven. Steve Studnuts will not sell our moves. Plants is the key to our success. Show him the titles, whisper to him while calling spots that they’re at stake, and watch him crumble. It’s foolproof.

Little Johnny: Simpletons. You lesser species really amuse me.

Nick: Dad? What are co-eds?

Little Johnny: What a dolt! Are you positive that he and I are from the same Breeder? I want a DNA test done.

The Great: Boys, stop that! The Great and Pete must concentrate. Formulate.

Little Johnny: Your brains, they do hibernate.

Pete: YO! I ‘bout to pop a tiny little cap in yo’ tiny little—-

The Great: MORE GLITTER!

Nick: MOM!

(End)

THE GREAT rant Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, e-fed, parody, Pete Trable, Steve Studnuts, The Great

So it appears as though our Rants are being broadcast to a larger audience at eWmania, instead of ProBoards. Yes, just Kobe Gyant’s mere presence in the BOB has brought it to the big time. However, Kobe now realizes there’s a problem. Your introduction to the BOB was not a Rant by the greatest high school basketball player of all-time and the future Hall of Shamer. It was…Axl and Viruz? Oh, this won’t do at all…book me a house show. Pronto! I’m a bigger draw than that Obama dude…book me a soccer stadium!

San Fierro. Friday morning. House show. Bingo! After some previews for the EPIC Kobe Gyant vs. Steel Chair match, the sounds of “Me So Horny” by 2 Live Crew rip a hole in the side of the stadium.

<--EMPTY-HEADED FAUX NEWS BIMBO-->>

We’re learning of a possible terrorist attack! Oh wait, never mind. Kobe Gyant has just arrived at a parody wrestling house show event.

<<--EMPTY-HEADED FAUX NEWS KEN DOLL-->>

Hold on, let’s see if he does the dreaded terrorist fist jab! He could be a secret Muslim!!

<<--KOBE GYANT-->>

Here’s a terrorist fist jab, bitches!

Kobe puts his fists through their faces and through the back of their heads (the bimbo gets his left and the kendoll gets Kobe’s right)! BLOOD~! The crowd pops HUGE!

<<--Mikey Styles-->>

GORE! GORE! GORE!

<<--CROWD-->>

KOBE! KOBE! KOBE!

*KABOOM!* Oops, the crowd just blew up in excitement. Literally

<<--Mikey Styles-->>

GORE! GORE! GORE!

Kobe Gyant is covered in blood, body parts, and intestines. A podium emerges from the very depths of under the ring.

<<--KOBE GYANT-->>

The BOB, we cannot turn back. Not with so much work to be done. Not with so many jobbers to squash, and so many midcarders to put in the hospital. Not with what I’m getting paid, I’ve got kids to feed, son! I’ve got matches to win, money to make, main events to main event in. I have my spot to protect. The BOB, we cannot turn back. I must walk alone, because nobody can keep up with me. At this moment, in this bloody arena full of dead Kobe Gyant fans, I pledge to march into Running on Empty and beat Steel Chair. I’ll keep that promise, the Kobe promises. In the words of 2 Live Crew…I’ve got an appetite for sex, cuz me so horny. Thank you, God damn Steel Chair, and God damn Axl and Viruz for trying to steal my spotlight at eWmania!

Kobe Gyant rant Axl, efed, Kobe, parody, Steel Chair, Viruz, wrestling

[We open to the Castle's dungeon. Chained to the dungeon wall is roving reporter Rebecca Mulesworth, known for nearly having her head removed for questioning Axl's "King" persona.]

[King Axl makes his way into the dungeon, cloaked in his dingy robe, and his head topped by his spiked crown. Axl walks toward Rebecca, and brushes his hand against her cheek. She spits in his face.]

Axl: Forgotten our manners, have we? Well, maybe a few more weeks in this dungeon will teach you a lesson in respect!

[Axl acts as though he's going to slap the reporter... she winces... and Axl laughs.]

Axl: *giggling* Whore. What use are you to this Kingdom? Nothing but a common slut.

[Axl pats the woman on the cheek, before turning to the camera.]

Axl: Commoners… like this reporter… like you, Pigeon. I must say -

Wes Rivers: Hello fans! This is Wes Rivers, joined as always by Rex Winters!

Rex Winters: Yo.

Wes Rivers: We’re calling the action here at the 1,348th “Axl Rants for 25 Minutes Without Saying Anything of Relevance” Mania!!!

Axl: Uhm… pardon me, but what the fuck?

Wes Rivers: Hey boss!

[Axl looks at Wes, who, along with Rex, is chained on either side of Rebecca... both Wes and Rex have headsets on. Due to the lack of power outlets in the dungeon, the headsets are not actually plugged into anything. Which pretty much renders them useless...]

Axl: Why are you guys here?

Wes Rivers: Why, to call the action of your action-packed rants, of course! They’re so action-packed that if there was any MORE action, why, it would be really, really action… -y! And not just boring.

Rex Winters: Yup.

Axl: … So, what, you chained yourself to the dungeon wall just in case I cut a promo down here?

Wes Rivers: You bet your bottom dollar! And-

Axl: So how are you going to call my other promos?

Wes Rivers: I… uh… … Fuck.

Axl: Seriously, you two can just stay here. You’ve already got me in enough trouble as it is…

Wes Rivers: Why, whatever do you mean?

Axl: Oh, nothing… You know what, I’ve been feeling rather generous lately. SIR LANCELOT! Help me get these two out of these shackles!

Wes Rivers: Oh, thank you sir, we’ll never be able to repay you!

[Lancelot comes into the dungeon, unlocks the chains, and Wes and Rex bow down before their King...]

Axl: Now, doesn’t that feel much better?

Wes Rivers: You betcha! Right, Rex?

Rex Winters: Yep.

Axl: Good.

Axl: …

Axl: Now.

Axl: OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!!!

[Wes and Rex suddenly look up at Axl with shock in their eyes.]

Wes and Rex: WHAT?!

> > > moments later < < <

[The camera re-opens, this time to the guillotine in the large back yard outside the Castle. Wes and Rex are stuck into the guillotine, with their heads positioned so that they will fall into a bucket when... well, you know.]

Axl: Any last words?

Wes: I... I...

Rex: ... Nope.

Axl: Groovy. LET 'ER RIP!!!

- cut… literally -

Axl: Mmmheheheh… I can’t WAIT to try this bad boy out on Pigeon…

|the|

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

[Maggots. Worms. Mold. Algae. Dust. Bugs. All mixed together in a squirming mess on a patch of earthy ground slowly being turned into mud by the rain.]

Bikini Bimbo #1: I am not dancing in that!

[Two scantilly clad women, with umbrellas, are complaining to Clive about appearing in this Mr. Fantastic rant.]

Clive: We have to have hot chicks dancing around in a Mr. Fantastic rant, otherwise nobody would watch it.

Bikini Bimbo #2: But there’s all, like, spiders and shit there.

[She points.]

Bikini Bimbo #2: I know he’s a werewolf now or whatever and it’s supposed to be authentic, but there’s no way I am rolling around in that.

[Mr. Fantastic stumbles like he's had a gallon of vodka and falls face first into the maggots. He rises up and offers a handful for the girls to eat.]

Bikini Bimbo #1: Gross!

Bikini Bimbo #2: We are so out of here.

Mr. Fantastic: Braaaaaaaaaains.

Bikini Bimbo #1: Um, Clive, what’s he doing?

[Mr. Fantastic stands up, drool pouring from his mouth... and a few teeth. He lurches towards the bikini bimbos as his eyes flicker about randomly.]

Bikini Bimbo #2: Get him off me!

[Mr. Fantastic eat the girls' faces.]

Caption: 10 Minutes Later!

[The bikini bimbos have been turned into zombie bikini bimbos and are eating their own brains.]

Clive: Ok, this is pretty shitty. You’ll have to win the fans over with some insightful and mesmerizing charisma Mr. Fantastic.

Mr. Fantastic: Uhhh… me kill… the other guy at next… show. When the… sp… sp… splash… comes… he… um… braaains.

Clive: Ok, ok… close enough. Now dance with your hos pimp daddy.

[Mr. Fantastic picks up an array of gardening tools and sways to and fro.]

Clive: You are so going to job to Snapmare Kid.

Zombie Mr. Fantastic rant e-fed, parody, Snapmare Kid, wrestling, Zombie Mr. Fantastic

[Dr. Silaconne M. Plants is in a non descript location, in front of non descript characters, doing non descript things.

Actually, he has an agenda. Since it's been roughly 2 1/2 years since his last promo, he wants to come back with a vengeance.

He practices. He memorizes lines. He adds slight movements with his hands and legs to his delivery. He plays a ukelele. He jumps through a flaming hoop. He plays "Go Fish" with a deck of Candy Cantelopes cards. He finds a Native American and gives him a gift, then takes it back to give that old moniker a legitimate double meaning.

He talks for 25 minutes, then looks to the group of lookers-on. You know, those non descript ones.]

SMP: So, what did you think?

-It was too long. (Yes, these people are the penultimate non descript of non descriptedness. They don’t even get name abbreviated initials.

-Shorten it and make it funny.

SMP: Okay!

[12 minutes later.]

-Much better!

-I liked it!

SMP: So, did you like it?

-Yes, it was good.

SMP: Did you really like it?

-We said we liked it.

SMP: Really! You really liked it?

-Hey dude, are you related to Sally Field?

Dr. Silaconne M. Plants rant Candy Cantaloupes, Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, e-fed, efederation, ewrestling, fantasy wrestling, parody, wrestling

Little Good is staring at an empty glass of beer at Jeers, the bar where nobody knows your name.

“Seth Harker? Insano Mano? Kamikazie Ken? And my partners are Coma and Hallucination Boy? Bloody hell. Ay! You got a cell phone I can have, mate?”

“Sure,” responded a booze hound. After getting the phone from the man, Little Good dials a number.

“Yeah. It’s me. Right then. I have a herniated disc in my neck and won’t be able to take part in the six-man match…It bloody well needs to be dealt with because I can’t feel a damn thing in my legs… What do you mean are you sure it’s cuz I’m drunk? Puh-leese. I’m in pain, mate. I’m losing about 20 percent of my strength every day…. What do you mean WHAT strength? Bloody hell! My arm is bloody well injured! That’s what I said, my leg. I mean, my neck! Oh, the pain, the pain….I don’t have health insurance, where do you expect me…right, the vet. Fine! I’ll be at Running On Empty!”

The booze hound angrily told Little Good, “Hey, give me my phone back.”

Little Good rolled his eyes. “Love to. Can’t. Wasn’t part of the deal.”

And Little Good stumbled, and he stumbled, and he stumbled away.

Little Good rant e-fed, Little Good, parody, wrestling

[Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" is seen staring at a poster of Jerri Li.]

Sarah: I can’t believe you have a poster of her on your wall.

[Kay Fabe puts a finger against the two-dimensional lips of Jerri Li.]

Kay: Well, she did touch me down there. No woman has ever touched me like Jerri Li touched me. Not even Seth.

Sarah: Um-kay.

Far-off voice, possibly Seth: Did you just call me a woman?

Kay: No, sweetie. Don’t you have a backstage segment you’re late for or something.

[Dead silence.]

Sarah: How are you feeling, Kay?

Kay: The tombstone through the stack of tables. Yeah, it kinda hurt. Thus, the neckbrace.

Sarah: Ah, didn’t even notice it. Thanks, Detached Narrator.

[Second Cousin of the First Evil, remember?]

Sarah: Yeah, whatever happened to that whole deal, DN?

Kay: You vanquished evil, because it’s what you do! You’re the chosen one! You’re the one and…, well, you’re the one of three Jobber Slayers. That we know of anyway.

Sarah: Where’s Freddy Prinze Jr. when you need him.

Kay: Zuh?

Sarah: He’s a writer for SmackDown.

Kay: Writer? *Pffft* Think you have a brain injury, missy!

Sarah: Right. Anywho. How do you think I’ll do inside of Jell-O in a Cell-O?

Kay: You’ll do great. Just don’t let her grab your groin, or you’ll get all aroused and distracted. Serious not goodness.

Sarah: Yeah, I often have THAT problem when women grab my crotch. *Rolls eyes* Say, first, let’s ask that guy who’s chained to your wall who he thinks will win.

Kay: Who, Josh G?

Sarah: Why do I know that name? Man, I’m having a massive mental block. It’s like somebody renditioned my brain.

Kay: Josh, who do you think will win when Sarah and Jerri wrestle in jell-o?

Josh G: Umm…Sarah?

Sarah: Sounds good to me. Well, there you have it, straight from the lips of the guy who is chained to Kay Fabe’s wall for no apparent reason.

Kay: (Mouthing the words) Mistress. Of. Pain. (She then does the Rob Van Spam thumb pointing thingee.)

Sarah: Ariel, this time, I won’t drop the title. Because all I have to do is pin you.

[Kay hands Sarah a banana. Sarah hands Kay a plastic bag.]

Kay: Oh, baby!

[Um, what's in the bag?]

Kay: Oh, I totally made this banana super powerful for added extra slayage power. All Sarah has to do is slay Jerri with this banana and she’ll become the T&A XX Division Champion and live out her full life as a champion. It’s sort of like that movie about the little mermaid…what was that movie called?

[Right...but what's in the bag?]

Kay: … Stuff.

Sarah: It’s some hair, OK?

[You're giving Kay some hair? That's...hot. Wait, it doesn't look like you've cut your beautiful blonde hair.]

Sarah: Well, I haven’t…

[...But that would mean...SEXY!]

Sarah: Sexy? Brought it back.

Kay: And someday soon, she’ll grow her hair back. And Trey will probably make her cut it again. And hopefully Sarah will need another favor from me. Goddess, I’ve missed you.

Sarah: Ditto. Well, I’m outie. Bye.

[Sarah rubs the banana against poster Jerri's lips. Fade to black.]

Sarah (Voice): She’s totally slayed. She just doesn’t know it yet.

Sarah The Jobber Slayer rant e-fed, e-federation, e-wrestling, fantasy wrestling, Jerri Li, Kay Fabe, parody, roleplay, Sarah "The Jobber Slayer", seth harker

[Nighttime. A smoke-filled room. Kurt Angel was watching "Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle" when all of a sudden the lights went out.]

KA: Did I just go blind? Oh wait, no, I can still see the movie.

[Kurt grabs his phone and dials a number.]

KA: Hello, phone company? I’d like to report a power outage. My lights just shut off by themselves. Well, duh, if I knew their phone number, I’d call them. Hello? Hello?

[Kurt dials some other numbers.]

KA: Hello, Pizza Hut? I’d like to report a power outage. No, this isn’t a prank call. No, my name isn’t Dave. It’s Kurt. Kurt Angel. What do you mean now you know it’s a joke? It’s not a joke, it’s so not a joke. Hello? Darnitall!

[Kurt grabs the phone's antenna and, well...locks on a modified Angel Lock.]

KA: I’ll make you tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!

Phone: *Bleep*

[Kurt interprets the "low battery" warning as a submission and drops the move.]

KA: Whoooo!

[Kurt prances around in celebration.]

KA: Who da evil? I’m da evil! The man who pinned Steve Studnuts at Power is Stolen. Not false, not false. If not for the most corrupt Generic Referee on the planet, you would be looking at the number one contender for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. Studnuts. Vincent. Harker. The iAd will go down someday. And when you do, you’ll be the ones on your knees before Axl! And not in a gay way, either, busters!

KA: Instead, I’ve got to face Luke. Luke who? Mr. Luke-Hoo himself. Luke Warm. And mister, that plate glass window is gonna feel like the best day of you’re life after I get through with you at…Neil Patrick Harris is the man! Hey, the light went out? Where’s the phone?

Phone: *Bleep*

KA: I better get a ladder and replace that light bulb.

[Kurt gets a ladder and climbs up.]

KA: Come on, bucko!

[Kurt falls off the ladder.]

KA: Ow.

[After a few seconds of "selling the bump," Kurt's back up quickly. He unscrews the bulb and belly-to-light bulb suplexes it?]

*SMASH*

KA: Ow!

[Need a light bulb?]

KA: Whoa. The walls are talking to me again!

[Yes, yes. Check the table there for a new light bulb. And here goes Kurt up the ladder again. Amazingly, he gets it in. Then, the light goes out.]

KA: The hell?

*SMASH*

*THUD*

*Footsteps*

*Creak*

*SLAM*

*Creak*

*Flick*

[Lights on.]

*SLAM*

[Kurt is laying at the bottom of the ladder, surrounded by bits of a broken Cheap-Ass™ Guitar. Who attacked Kurt? Who who? Who who? Who attacked Kurt. Who who, who who. I really wanna know...]

Kurt Angel rant e-fed, Kurt Angel, Luke Warm, parody, seth harker, Steve Studnuts, Trey Vincent, wrestling

[Axl is lying in bed, with Michelle, flipping through channels, when he falls upon the BoB promo network. Studs' promo flashes by... followed by Trey's... which is then followed by Mano's... and then, some guy with a giant, inflatable, squeaky, rubber octopus apparently named Googoo Cachoob... and finally, the Wiccan Lesbian (or is that EX-Lesbian?), Kay Fabe.]

Axl: … Michelle?

Michelle: *snoring… loudly*

Axl: …

[Axl slowly moves his hand beneath the covers... reaching toward Michelle's naked nether regions...]

Michelle: Mmm… *snore* … Don’t touch me there, daddy, I’m not Eliza… No dad! I… *snore* … well, I better be getting paid extra for this… *snore*

[Michelle's eye suddenly flutter open... she looks under the sheet.]

Michelle: Axl… are you trying to finger me while I’m asleep?

Axl: … Uhhh…

Michelle: Can you PLEASE… go down a bit, and to the left?

Axl: … Uhh…

Michelle: Ahh… yeah, that’s it… Oh, God, yeah, that’s it… try two fingers… OH YES… !!!~!

Axl: Dammit!

Michelle: Wh- Why’d you stop?! I was just about tah – ACK! Why are you reaching in my ass? … AXL!

Axl: There we go!

Michelle: No, there we DON’T go! There we most certainly don’t go!

Axl: Yes! It’s not even got any shit on it! … Well, not much anyway… But hey, a shitty hot pocket’s still a hot pocket! *munch* Mmm, and your mud flaps kept it warm! Deee-licous!

Michelle: AXL!!! WHAT THE- Oh my GOD, did you just get that out of my… YUCK!

[Axl finishes off the hot pocket, and lets out a belch, before patting his gut.]

Axl: Ya got any dessert lodged up there? I could really go for some cherry cheesecake…

Michelle: Stop getting food out of my ass! DAMMIT… now, I’m going to go take a fuckin’ shower, I feel… dirty…

Axl: Hey, if you find anything else down there, make sure and leave it on the sink. I’m always gettin’ the munchies when I’m in there taking a dump.

Michelle: …

[Michelle gets up, and heads into the bathroom... while Axl stretches. It's a brisk, late-summer's afternoon, and Axl's just woke up. The time's about 12:30... you get the picture. Let's just hear what Axl's gotta say, eh?]

Axl: Ya know… there’s one single, solitary person I need to address. It’s not Insano Man, or Joob-Joob the Platypus. And no, it’s not even you Studs. Though, I do want to reiterate – I’M NOT GAY! My brother’s… well, sometimes I worry about that boy. But I’M NOT GAY. So… suck it. Tasty pants. …

Axl:

Michelle: [from the bathroom] Ha! You’re telling him you’re not gay, and then you turn around and call him “tasty pants”, and tell him to “suck it”! I bet you WOULD like him to suck it! Bwahahahaha!

Axl: … KAY! Yes, you, Kay Fabe! I just want to know one thing. Did it feel good?

Michelle: [from the bathroom] WHAT?! Are you talking dirty to Kay?!

Axl: No! … But did it Kay? I bet it did…

Michelle: You bet what did?!

Axl: Uh… when she stuck a flute up her pussy!

Michelle: Ohhh, ok. … Wait…

Axl: Anyway… whenever you’re ready to leave that scrub, Harker… you know where to find me.

Michelle: AXLLL!!!

Axl: What?! I’m just telling Kay where to find me, so… so I can remove that flute from her pussy!

Michelle: Ohhh, ok! …

[Axl leans in toward the camera, and whispers.]

Axl: And so I can stick something longer… thicker… and way… waaay harder in there, if you know what I mean!

Michelle: THAT’S IT! John said you need to cut your promo’s short, I think now’s that time!

Axl: BUT…!

Michelle: CUT!!!

Axl rant Axl, e-fed, fantasy wrestling, Kay Fabe, Michelle, parody

We fade in on a street somewhere in Sin City. Kobe Gyant is on hands and knees on the pavement beside a folding chair. Mike Monroe is standing in front of them, wrestling off a strait jacket. He picks up a microphone.

<<–Mike Monroe–>>

Hello Brawlers On a Budget fans! Mike Monroe here, and we’re going to put the Kobe Challenge to the test! Sir, are you ready to take the Kobe Challenge?

<–Blindfolded Man #1–>

Yes!

Mike helps the man take a seat on Kobe Gyant’s back first.

<–Blindfolded Man #1–>

Mmmm. That’s pretty good!

Mike helps the man take a seat on the folding chair next.

<–Blindfolded Man #1–>

Mmmm. That’s pretty good, too!

<<–Mike Monroe–>>

If you had to buy one folding chair, which one would it be? Chair 1 or Chair 2?

<–Blindfolded Man #1–>

That’s tough. But I’d have to go with chair number two!

<<–Kobe Gyant–>>

What? That’s bull****, son!

<–Cut–>

As we re-fade up, the man who used to be wearing a blindfold is now wearing two black eyes instead.

<–Blindfolded Man #1–>

Nothing beats the taste of Kobe Gyant chairs.

He runs away.

<–Blindfolded Man #2–>>

What was with all that screaming and wailing a minute ago?

<<–Mike Monroe–>>

Oh, one of the chairs was just really uncomfortable. He had chronically sore, uh, eye sockets?

<–Blindfolded Man #2–>>

Such a shame.

<<–Mike Monroe–>>

Much like this concept. Sir, are you ready to take the Kobe Challenge?

<–Blindfolded Man #2–>>

Mike helps the man take a seat on the folding chair first. The man begins groping the chair all around.

<–Blindfolded Man #2–>>

Ewww. This thing is cold and flat. Just like my little sister.

<<–Mike Monroe–>>

Uh-huh…

Mike then helps the man take a seat on Gyant’s back. The man begins groping Kobe all around!

<–Blindfolded Man #2–>>

Hmmm…this one’s better, but seems a little worn out for my taste.

<<–Kobe Gyant–>>

Aw, hell no!

Gyant suddenly pushes up, sending the pervert flying.

<–Blindfolded Man #2–>>

Dear Jesus!

<–Cut–>

As we re-fade up, the man who used to be wearing a blindfold is now wearing two black eyes instead.

<–Blindfolded Man #2–>

Nothing beats the taste of Kobe Gyant chairs.

<<–Mike Monroe–>>

Sorry, Father.

The priest stumbles away.

<<–Mike Monroe–>>

Only one left, Kobe. Ma’am. Are you ready—

<<–Kobe Gyant (whispering)–>>

I’ve got this one, Mike.

Kobe shoves Mike out of the way.

<<–Kobe Gyant–>>

To take the Kobe Challenge?

<<–Blindfolded Woman–>>

Yes! Yes! Yes!

<<–Kobe Gyant–>>

Oh, I love ‘em enthusiastic.

Kobe sits her down on the folding chair. He disappears from camera for a minute, as if he were pulling his shorts down. But he wouldn’t. Would he?

<<–Sound Effect–>>

BOIIIIIIIING

<<–Blindfolded Woman–>>

Wow. That’s really hard on my ass.

<<–Kobe Gyant–>>

Then you really aren’t going to like this next thing you sit on.

<<–Blindfolded Woman–>>

Who said I didn’t like it?

She licks her lips. Kobe looks at the camera and winks.

<<–Cut to black–>>

<<–Blindfolded Woman (Voice)–>>

Yes! Yes! Yes!

As we re-re-fade up, the girl is biting her lower lip.

<<–Blindfolded Woman–>>

Nothing! Beats! KOBE! GYANT! OH! GOD! THAT’S! GYANT! OH!

Kobe Gyant rant e-fed, Kobe Gyant, parody, Steel Chair, wrestling