Archive for January, 2009

The Yam Standard

January 30th, 2009
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Sam, Sam the Dancing Yam

[Sam, Sam The Dancing Yam is standing solemnly in front of the camera.]

SSTDY – Ladies and gentle persons of the United States of outside the Yam Field just outside of New Jersey. It has been brought to my attention, that certain personages, namely that evil person hater Axl seems to think that 1) I am an unintelligent Yam, and 2) That all 14 year old boys in New Zealand still like Yu Gi Oh. As representative of Yams worldwide, it is my solemn duty to refute both these remarks immediately and without haste or hesitation. So my statement is as follows:

To Whom It May Concern (namely Axl):

Yams are in fact intelligent beings of intelligence. Studies have shown that even the dumbest Yams have IQ’s of 1.896247686732456795, which as most scientists will tell you is the combined IQ of the entire state of Texas whenever a cold snap hits. Statistics have also shown that yams have a 99.99% chance of being smarter then you. So (insert insult here). I would also make you aware of our match at the first BOB show of the year, which I won thank you very much. Showing that Yams are greater then even the great ones like you, Mr. Axl.

In reference to your second allusion, that 14-year-old boys living in New Zealand may all be Yu Gi Oh nerds. It is my duty to tell you otherwise kind sir. It is the position of the New Zealand Government and the United Parents Against Stupid Card Games (UAPASCG) that this in fact grossly inaccurate. Only 27.34% of boys 14 and under are in fact still fans of this card game, and only 71% of those tested would admit to their so called normal people that they are still in fact fans. This fad has greatly passed, unlike America where fads like these seem to takes years to pass away.

Yours truly,

Sam, Sam The Dancing Yam, Master of the Middle Yam, Winner of Gauntlet’s I & III, number one contender to the eWmania Heavyweight title, and dually authorized representative of Yams (Yams are Mighty Smashers) Worldwide.

SSTDY – I hope this clears everything up, as told by Axe in the back, And if he wants to fight for the right to eat bananas and insult other people that I shall see him in the ring whenever and wherever possible so that I may continuously interest Yams into his rectum and truly wreck them.

[As Sam leaves the podium, no one is really sure what just happened, as Sam’s mike was on mute the whole time, and no one could actually hear what he said, so all Sam really accomplished today was further insulting his own in limited intelligence, by trying to insult a man who had been insulting others for years, and who now, had ended up insulting himself instead.

[And for the second time today, there are spelling errors in nearly every sentence in this stupid rant/role-play/pie in the face for the new generations. Where it stops only the OWTTM Title knows. Good night America, God kill you all with potato’s.]


Total Non-Action Wrestling iMPLOSION! #15 Results!

January 30th, 2009
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SIN CITY – At MegaBrawl 2, Dr. Silaconne M. Plants became the second Grand Slam Champion in history when he defeated Steve Studnuts to capture both Not Good Enough to Fight Alone Tag Team Titles, the Swiss Army Belt, and the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. Just a month later, Plants was looking to cash in — literally, by selling his titles to the highest bidders. But things didn’t go quite as planned for the Sinister Surgeon on Total Non-Action Wrestling iMPLOSION! #15.

Thomas Largeman & The Wizard defeated SMP & American Panda in a Not Good Enough to Fight Alone Tag Team Title Match via DQ. New tag team champions were crowned — not in the main event match, thanks to SMP’s use of a chair resulting in a disqualification. No, after the match. “XFactor” Pete Trable announced to the world that he had won a silent auction and he declared himself one-half of the tag champs, along with his partner The Great. Trable then laid out a challenge to Largeman and Wizard for Bearly Legal. Will they accept?

Sam, Sam the Dancing Yam defeated Axl in his debut match via countout, thanks to a SMP Nipple Cutter prior to Axl’s entrance. SMP thought Axl sent him a dozen roses and accused Axl of being his secret admirer. After SMP walked away, Kobe Gyant then took Tifa, Axl’s manager, out for some “fried chicken.”

Indigo & Hamster Girl vs. Pretty Boy & Tia Tar ended in a no contest after Studnuts arrived with a chair and took out all the competitors. This led to a showdown via the 2-Cheap-2-Own TV between Studnuts and his ex-friend, Trey Vincent. Studnuts demanded a match against his former iAd stablemate, but Vincent had something else in mind. The future CWA superstar told Studnuts that he would have to go undefeated until MegaBrawl III: Season of the Witch, in order to receive his shot at Vincent. Yep, we’re already on the road to MegaBrawl III. Order now to receive the special early bird price!

Jerri Li defeated Undietaker via ??. Everyone was so distracted making bets on the Super Bowl, it’s kind of unclear how Jerri pulled out the win, but she did.

And to kick off the night, BOB’s new Acting BigBOSS Kid Pirate overruled SMP’s selling of the Swiss ARRRRmy Belt to Scatman, and KP awarded the Swiss ARRRRmy Belt to himself! SMP and Pirate had an angry exchange of words, and the segment ended with the arrival of American Panda, Largeman and Wizard for some swashbuckling.


Blood Sausage

January 24th, 2009


[Scatman is humping a cardboard cutout of Axl.]

Scatman: You don’t get to make unfunny wordplays juxtaposing ewmania and schizophrenia together and get away with it fat boy.

CSC: Scatman, Axl isn’t fat.

Scatman: I was being facetious, when my poo sticks to him like white on rice he will be.

[Scatman then picks up a cardboard cutout of Tifa.]

Christian St. Christian

Scatman: How about your little 2D girlfriend here?

[Scatman sticks his hand in his mouth and plasters saliva over her lips. He then does his best to mimic a female voice.]

Scatman: Ooh Scatman, please fuck me in my one dimensional ass. It’s so tight for you.

[Scatman pimp slaps her.]

Scatman: Bitch, how the fuck is the shit going to come out if it’s tight.

[He leans down and tears her legs apart, severing her midsection to the breasts.]

Scatman: That’s more like it, lots of big smelly poo to cover us all with.

[Scatman takes the Axl cutout again and simulates shoving it up Tifa’s ass.]

Scatman: Jesus Axl, you nearly fit all the way up there.

CSC: Scatman…

Scatman: Sorry, got carried away.


A Novel Idea

January 23rd, 2009
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*TV* : The Siiimpsooons…

[The screen opens to Homer Simpson. At home. On the couch. Watching tv. A voice eminates from the television speakers…]

Kent Brockman: Breaking news, ladies and gentlemen. It appears as though the entire world’s supply of donuts –

Homer: Mmmm, donuuuts.

Kent Brockman: – has been depleted.

Homer: What the hell does that mean?

Kent: They’ve vanished.

Homer: …

Kent: They’re gone.

Homer: …


Homer: DOH!!! I… I’ve got to blame SOMEBODY for this!

[Enter scene right, Bart Simpson, son of Homer, emperor of Springfield. Give or take the “emperor” part.]


Bart: … I didn’t do it.

[Homer leaps from the couch, and proceeds to strangle Bart.]

Homer: Take away the only thing that drives me to get out of bed in the morning, will you?!


Homer: You cotton pickin’ little…

Bart: …

Homer: … Bart? Why aren’t you screaming any more?

Bart: …

[Homer releases his grip on his son, and Bart… collapses to the floor. … Uh, this DEFINITELY wasn’t in the script…]

Homer: …

[Homer then slowly begins to back away, still looking down at Bart’s corpse, before turning around and getting the hell out of there.]

[The screen rests on the vision of Bart, lying motionless on the ground… before a horde of rats descend upon him, pick his bones, and then leave him as nothing more than a skeleton.]

[The screen THEN changes to Axl’s living room, where he sits. At his apartment. On his crappy, tattered couch. Watching tv.]

Axl: Ya know… this show seemed a hell of a lot funnier ten seasons ago. I hope BoB doesn’t lose its wry sense of humor after 20 years on the air. … Oh, what am I talkin’ about, the past ten have been even more shit-tastic than an all day marathon of “The Flavor of Love”. Fuck, how is Tifa EVER gonna make me into a MegaStar if the company I work for can barely even keep a program on tv?

[Well, to tell ya the truth…]

Axl: That was a rhetorical question!!! PLEASE don’t answer that… I’m afraid of the answer.

[Suddenly, the Simpsons is interrupted by a Sinister City TV News Bulletin, from the desk of Sinister Newz anchorman, CJ Mathews.]

Axl: DAMMIT! Bart just got through pulling a Kenny, and now I’ve got to sit through a news flash! Is there EVER going to be anything good on?

[That’s what you get when you move to a city that only has ONE tv channel…]

Axl: Oh, can it, jack hoff.


Axl: Oh, you know what I mean!

[Well, I’ve GOT to can it, and keep this short, or this rant will run over the 6 page mark. You don’t wanna piss Leary off with your first rant of the year…]

Axl: Oh, trust me, I will. It’s inevitable. Just like SMP losing. Too bad I was kicked out of eWschizophrenia, or I woulda won that tournament, hands down, and I’d STILL be champ by the end of the year! … Give or take 11 months and 3 weeks.

[God, this is turning into more of a ramble than a rant…]

Axl: HEY! Ok, that’s it. Here and now, I’m making my first New Year’s resolution. I’m no longer going to be the humongous windbag that I have been. And narrator… that means you’re going to be doing ALOT more work. It’s time for the Apathy to be CURED! I’ve had ENOUGH of this Disorder!]

[Ha… yeah, I see what you did there. VERY funny… *cough* not *cough*]

Axl: So, from now on… I’m going to take a bit of advice from some no name jerk on eWnymphomania, and I’m… I’m going to… Start ranting in novel form!!!

[… You’re joking… right?]

Axl: NO!

[… Shit. … Ugh, ok, ok. We’ll TRY it… I’m not promising anything, though. Seriously, couldn’t you just have The Handler do all of the promos in Adobe Flash animation form or something?]

Axl: But that’d be even MORE work!

[Not for me, it wouldn’t… Anyway, well… here goes nothing.]

The Book of Axl : Chapter 1 – A Savior is Born

[It was a cold, winter’s morning, on the twenty-third day, of the first month, of the ninth year, of the first decade, of the first century, of the second millenium. A man sat upon a couch… a tattered, abysmal looking couch. Springs springing forth from every which way, cockroaches feasting upon crumbs held within the confines of the sofa’s very core. This was the couch of utter dread… a couch so devoid of color or freshnessocity… atude… It was a really fucking ugly couch, ok? And upon the couch there sat a man –


[HEY! You can’t talk now! I have to give you the codewords.

Axl: … What the fuck are those?

[“Axl said,”, and then you say something, only you have to use quotation marks.]

Axl: Oh, like this? “The Narrator is a bitch, he’s a big fat bitch, he’s the biggest bitch in the whole wide world!”


Axl: What?

[You DO want me to do this, correct?]

Axl: Right…


Axl: … Jerk.

[Ahem… The man sat upon the couch, staring blankly at the television screen before him. The man’s name? Axl VanHalen.]

Axl: DAMMIT! I dropped the ‘VanHalen’, and you DAMN well know that, you pig fucker!

[Ugh… The man’s name? Axl. … There, ya happy now?]

Axl: I guess… just make sure it doesn’t happen again. Got me?


[The news upon the screen reminded Axl of the times he had spent alone as a boy, when he had no friends, no one to play with, no play pals or little boy buddies. And of course, the reasoning for this, was for the simple fact that Axl… was gay.]

Axl: GODDA- … SONUVVA- … I am NOT gay, you understand me?! I’m not gay, my last name is no longer ‘VanHalen’, and if you screw up this rant for me, I’ll fucking KILL YOU! This is my first rant of the year, and it’s GOING to be special. Either that… or you’re FFFIIIRRREEEDDD!!!

[Alrighty… Axl McMahon said, “GODDAMIT, my last name’s not McMahon either!!!” And then I bitch slapped him. And then he said, “OW!!! You BASTARD!” And then I laughed, because it’s funny as hell to watch Axl get pissed off. :^) ]

Axl: You… you… ARGH~!!1 ONE MORE TIME! One more time you try to ruin this for me, and I swear to GOD I’ll kick your ass!

[Ok, ok, I’ll be good. Even though, as a being who’s merely a voice, I don’t actually HAVE an ass for you to kick. But anyway…]

[The television’s screen flashed briefly with the Sinister Newz logo, before being filled with the face of SCtv news anchor CJ Mathews. CJ was seated behind a desk, with the picture of a yam in a window in the upper right hand corner of the screen. CJ spoke, with a stern voice, giving off a sense of urgency. “People of Sinister City. There is a new scourge falling upon us. A new wave of the most disgusting, disturbing, mutant-like MUTANTS to ever cross the land of the Sinister Valley. These… things, have swept over our fair town like a swarm of locusts, straight from the pages of the Bible! These beings have taken to collecting each and every member of the community, and forcing them to their bidding. Their bidding, of course, being to consume mass quantities. Because these dudes are aliens. And aliens are into freaky deeky shit like that. Just watch the Coneheads. Seriously, do. Dan Akroyd’s a hoot, I tell ya what. … Erm, anyway, these… things, are known only… as the Yam People. Mainly, because they’re yams. And they’re people. Pretty simple equation, really…”.]

[CJ Mathews continued, as . “The Yam People have sent their leader to the mayor’s office, where he has issued the following statement, filmed at an earlier date. We’d mention the exact date, but we’re too fucking lazy to go about all that bull shit. The following may offend some 14 year olds. From New Zealand. Who like YugiOh. And may or may not actually be 21, but really, who gives a rat’s ass. Ya know? … Roll it.”]

[The camera opened to the mayor’s office, where both mayors were strapped to chairs, gauze secured tightly on their mouths. As raYne and Tony Spaghetti struggled to free themselves, a chair in front of the desk stood, back to the camera. … When it suddenly swiveled around, revealing…]

[A yam.]

[Well, to be more precise, a yam with one of those novelty pairs of glasses with the nose, moustache, and fake eyes. This… thing… This… oh, let’s just call him ‘Yam, Man, the Boogyin’ Yam Man’. Yam Man stared coldly, sinisterly into the camera’s lens. … Honestly, it’s just a yam with a stupid pair of glasses on. How can it really “stare”? It’s just SITTING there for christ’s sake!]

Axl: A-HEM!!! Get back to the damn script!

[Oy… Yam Man stared harshly at the camera, yadda yadda yadda, something about darkness and evil and coldness and a buncha other crap tryin’ to make this sweet potato look like some menacing villain. Yadda yadda, he SPEAKS. Finally…]

Yam Man: …

[… Wow. What a stirring “speech”. Which, ironically, is the very ability this VEGETABLE doesn’t have. SPEECH. Because it’s a damn vegetable!]

Axl: One more outburst like that, young man, and it’s off to the principle’s office with you!

[Uhm… ok? Axl, really, I think I know where this is headed. You’re going to end up in a match with this “Yam Man”, “beat the crap out of him”, and then “pin him”.]

Axl: How do you know THAT?

[Because I took your advice. I read the script.]

Axl: … Oh. … Fuck. Well… Er… that was just a first draft! Watch THIS!

[Watch what? … Anyway… “Yam Man”, or whatever, began to speak again. … God this is hard to narrate… WAIT A MINUTE! Axl, what the hell are you doing in the mayors’ office?!]

Axl: I’m holding a chair, what does it look like? And SHHH, I’m TRYING to sneak up on him!

[… IT’s A FUCKING YAM! Yams can’t hear! Yams don’t have EYES!]

Axl: Yeah they do! Just look at his glasses!

[… Are you retarded?]

Axl: >:^(

[I’m just sayin’. ;^) ]


[Axl slams the chair over the yam… and sends yam bits flying all over the place. … Yup.]

Axl: Ha! Broke those damn glasses! … OH MY GOD!

[What is it? Just realized how gay this is?]

Axl: Shut up, narrator! I’m talking about his EYES! They fell out of his sockets!

[… Yup. Totally gay.]

Axl: And go back to novel style, BITCH!

[Yes master… sheesh.]

[Axl stood tall over the destroyed foe known as Yam, Man, the Boogyin’ Yam Man. He gripped the chair’s leg firmly in his right hand, as he lifted the steel high into the air. Meanwhile, raYne and Tony, Sinister City mayors the both of them, screamed through the gauze covering their mouths… shouting and yelling for Axl’s help. “What the fuck’s all that noise?”, Axl pondered out loud.]

[He then left the office to grab a beer.]




Tony: What did you say?


Tony: Sorry, I’m listening to my iPod. I just LOVE this Miley Cyrus! She’s the bomb, yo! … Hey, I just noticed something! I don’t have the gauze on my mouth and cuffs on my hands and feet anymore!

raYne: …

Tony: Cool, now I can go grab a beer.

raYne: …

[Tony leaves.]



A GREAT Start to 2009!

January 20th, 2009

Kobe Gyant

Kobe Gyant is hooking up his brand new 40-inch monitor, which he scored at a Circuit City going out of business sale by dipping into his personal independent wrestling fortune, which is stored in the Cayman Islands, which is a British overseas territory located in the western Caribbean Sea, which is comprised by the islands of Grand Cayman, Cayman Brac, and Little Cayman, which I know thanks to Wikipedia, which is “the free encyclopedia dictionary,” which is really just a bunch of 0s and 1s that somehow appear to be a web page, which is because we’re all in a matrix, which is a fictional world where we’re all batteries for aliens, which is really insane to think about…but I’ve gotten off track…let’s start again…Kobe Gyant is hooking up his brand new 42-inch monitor. I know I said 40 inches before, but it grew two inches in the time it took to write this bit here.

What happened to his last monitor? Well, there was a cheerleader over here auditioning to be on Kobe’s “White Cheerleader Bitches” adult web site that Kobe never has any intention of opening. She had just got on her blue outfit when…


Give me a J!

She kicked the monitor off his desk. But she didn’t have any panties on, so Kobe didn’t even notice. After giving her a birth control pill cocktail (vodka mixed with an entire packet of birth control pills), she gave Kobe a B. And an L. And an O. And a W. And a J. And an O. And a B. What’s that spell? No new kids to support! It was a great Christmas for Kobe, by the way. Aside from the cheerleader, he also received the PlayStation 4 and two iPhones that were made after the one Lori got, so Kobe’s are newer. Then he spent many an hour trying to find Lori’s MySpace page to try and get down and texty with her. Kobe’s so talented he texts all his hos with his little toe. His “ho toe” if u will.

As for Kobe? He’s been wearing EIGHT different variations of “The Great Is NOT Great” T-shirt for EIGHT days. But not today, because eight is enough.

The only other person in Kobe’s area at the moment? Kay Fabe. Why? Because she’s The BOB’s Interviewing Gal, and it’s unknown if we’ll ever see Mike “The Monotone” Monroe again in a Kobe Gyant promo. His pay ain’t comin’ out Kobe’s end, that’s for sure. She doesn’t refer to Kobe as “Meathead,” but she has referred to him as “The Jive Sausage.” Or was that just one part of his anatomy? TMI? Anyway, she walks into Kobe’s office wearing a yellow long-sleeved shirt and red overalls.

<--Kay Fabe-->

Kobe, what’s up with the letter you left on The Great’s door?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Kay, did you see what happened at MegaBrawl 2?

<--Kay Fabe-->

You mean when Jerri Li cut off her nipple?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

No, girl! I’m talking about when Axl hit me in the head with a bat.

<--Kay Fabe-->

Oh, yeah. Suckage.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

My head smelled like Michelle’s ass for days.

<--Kay Fabe-->


<--Kobe Gyant-->

The shower was broken when I got home.

<--Kay Fabe-->

Uhh…was your sink broken, too? And every other sink on the planet?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

That’s the second time my head smelled like Michelle’s ass.

<--Kay Fabe-->


<--Kobe Gyant-->

Story for another day, another time. That’s probably why Axl came out and hit me in the head. Either that, or he has the hots for me. They say that chicks who like guys often hit them. And he’s the biggest chick I know.

<--Kay Fabe-->

He’s a man.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Do I look like Mark Henry? Is this 1999? It’s obvious he’s a woman with one sweaty nutsack. Or maybe that’s just a giant dingleberry. All I know, Kay, is I ain’t gettin’ close enough to inspect.

<--Kay Fabe-->

Kobe, I don’t remember your Rants being this racy before.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

It’s a new day. Change has come to America. Change has come to Kobe Gyant. And in just a few minutes, something else is about to come with Kobe Gyant. Here’s a hint: she has red hair.

<--Kay Fabe-->

Careful. Make sure you don’t dislocate your ring finger. Any final words for Axl, The Great, or Brawlers on a Budget fans?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

My ring finger, I won’t dislocate.
The Great, I will obliterate.
And Axl, I plan to aggravate.
And just because I’m black, don’t call me articulate.
In ’09, Kobe Gyant will dominate.


Kobe space Gyant period!


Tomb Raider

January 20th, 2009
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Jerri Li

[Open up to Jerri’s bedroom, painted neon pink with smoky blue light poking through the blinds. She is sat at a vanity table getting ready for a BOB charity event, dressed in a tight white dress. A man I sat on the bed behind her with his hands on either side of his head, unable to decide which tie to wear.]

Ned: I’m split.

[Jerri motions her arm at the green tie in his lap.]

Jerri: That one.

[He holds the tie over his chest.]

Ned: Oh yeah?

[Jerri stands up and walks across the fuzzy pink carpet to him.]

Jerri: Here you go.

[She ties the tie around his neck.]

Jerri: I’ve been doing this for boys since I was 10.

[Ned tries to stand up but she holds him down by the shoulders.]

Jerri: Wait, there’s more.

[She kisses him on his right eye.]

Jerri: Ok, I’m done.

Ned: You’re not normally this sweet.

[She sinks her teeth into his cheek and pulls as hard as she can.]

Ned: Ok ok, I take it back!

[Jerri let’s go and Ned holds his bleeding cheek with the palm of his hand, escaping by the skin of his teeth.]

Jerri: We’ve gotta go! They’re that desperate for some female appearances at this thing they’re standing up cardboard cutouts of Lara Croft.

Ned: Woo-hoo! I’m there!

[Jerri smiles and leads him by the hand out of the room.]


Not a good start in 2009

January 15th, 2009

The Great

(A camera zooms in on hand written sign taped to The Great’s front door.)

Please come back in a couple of weeks, The Great had to sell The Great’s PC and take a part time second shift job to help cover the costs of XBOX360, a 50 foot USB cable, a router, and Halo 3 for Nick’s Christmas present. The Great will not get into Lori’s expensive tastes or Little Johnny’s Robot Factory 5000. The Great’s wife kept it simple, a brand new, full length mink from Kaufman Furs, two pair of Prada, a new set of china dinnerware, and a 2009 Mercedes-Benz C-Class C350W Sedan. The Mother in Law was happy with the first three seasons of All in the Family DVD set. The Great apologizes for any inconvenience.

Thank you,
The Great


Champion Gear

January 14th, 2009
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Christian St. Christian

[Open to a dimly lit, green tiled bathroom decorated with ornamental, golden bamboo and black marble sinks. A man in a mask is stood on the left side of the screen with his back to the camera. Shit is smeared across the walls to spell out ‘HELL ON EARTH!’ The man turns his neck to the right, revealing himself to be former Fetish Freak Christian St. Christian as he looks to a white porcelain toilet bowl. He turns his neck further until he is looking over his shoulder right into the camera.]

CSC: Is that it?

[The camera cuts to show who he is talking to, a man dressed in a hooded black cloak.]

Satanist: Yes, that is the entire spell.

CSC: Then where the hell is he?

[Suddenly a loud gurgling noise is heard. Both St. Christian and the Satanist look to the toilet bowl as water forces itself upwards like a fountain.]

CSC: It’s working!

[A hand rises from the bowl as though from a grave and claws at the edges to try and pull the rest of it’s body up. The sinews and muscles visibly strain as a second hand and a head rise up from inside the toilet. The thing’s eyes look around at it’s new surroundings.]


CSC: Welcome back… eggroll?

[St. Christian holds out an offering of food from a box of Chinese takeaway.]


[He pulls himself all the way out of the toilet and flops like a fish onto the floor in a pool of water.]

Scatman: I can’t believe she killed me.

CSC: What was hell like?

Scatman: What are you fucking kidding me?! Do you have any idea what they do to guys like me down there?

[St. Christian laughs.]

CSC: I hope you enjoyed it.

[Scatman pulls himself up onto his knees and snatches both the offered eggroll and a bottle of beer from St. Christian’s hands.]

Scatman: I swear to fucking Christ almighty I will get medieval on that chink bitches ass.

[The satanist is busy playing on his PSP.]


Take out my fucken jugular

January 14th, 2009
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Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

[Dr. Silaconne M. Plants is seen sitting in what appears to be a waiting room, more apparent after a woman in tight fitting neon green scrubs sticks her head out of a nearby door…]

Nurse: Mr. Donally, the surgeon will see you now.

[A man walks in front of the camera focused on SMP, he’s dressed in camouflage and has an arrow lodged in his left ass cheek.]

Nurse: I hate bow season…

[Moments later, another woman leans through the door…]

Nurse: Mrs. Farga, the surgeon will see you now.

[A woman walks by Plants, her wrists are bleeding profusely and veins can be seen hanging out in all directions. Coincidence? Probably. Finally, a third nurse in pink scrubs also appears at the door.]

Nurse: Dr. Plants? We have a surgeon that would like to talk with you.

[SMP saunters down a hall and into a small room on the right.]

Nurse: Wait here, he’ll be with you shortly.

[SMP waits patiently, rubbing his neck while reading a generic magazine placed in the exam room to stave off boredom. Within minutes, a doctor-type guy walks in.]

Surgeon: Welcome, Dr. Plants. Nice to have a fellow surgeon as a patient. I’ll take extra special care of you, you know how we like to treat our own and all the other patients are just numbers and complaints and names without faces, right? * wink *

[He laughs at his own remark, Plants acknowledges the rib with a nod.]

Surgeon: What can I do for you today?

[The Doc tosses the magazine aside, and with all the composure he can muster…]

SMP: I need you to remove my jugular.

Surgeon: Come again?

SMP: Take out my fucken jugular.

Surgeon: There’s no need for profanity, sir. Wait, did you say fucken or fucking?

SMP: Yes. My fucken jugular. With an “e-n”. That’s correct. I need you to remove it.

Surgeon: Umm, you realize that will kill you.

SMP: No, you misunderstood. Leave the regular jugular. Remove the fucken jugular. I can live on one, right?

Surgeon: You ARE a doctor, am I correct in that assumption?

SMP: Yes, but I’m a plastic surgeon. Breasts.

Surgeon: So, you don’t really count as a medical doctor?

SMP: Technically, I do. But for the sake of this promo let’s pretend I don’t know a thing about real doctoring.

Surgeon: You don’t seem as though you know much about augmentations, either.

SMP: That’s beside the point. Can you help me?

[The surgeon looks at Plants as if wondering whether or not he’s serious.]

Surgeon: I suppose.

SMP: Then take out my fucken jugular. If I don’t have my fucken jugular, American Panda can’t eat my fucken jugular, take my ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS, and liberate pandas across the globe in a fucken jugular eating frenzy. I’m saving the planet, Doc. The survival of the human race is counting on my defeating American Panda.

Surgeon: This…. is a REAL panda you’re talking about?

SMP: Yes.

Surgeon: Defeating you?

SMP: Yes, in a professional wrestling match. I’m the “Dirtiest Boobie Enhancer in Wrestling Today™”, heard of me?

Surgeon: No. But I’m interested in your wrestling a panda. A real panda bear?

SMP: Yes, he said he was going to eat my fucken jugular.

Surgeon: He [i]said[/i] that? * ahem * You don’t need a surgeon, you need a psychiatrist.

SMP: Can he remove my fucken jugular? Just the fucken jugular, that’s all.

Surgeon: Listen, there’s the external jugular vein, which is formed by the junction of the posterior auricular and the retromandibular veins, passes down the side of the neck superficial to the sternocleidomastoid muscle, and empties into the subclavian vein. Then there’s the two internal jugular veins which collect the blood from the brain, the superficial parts of the face, and the neck. Of course, you can’t overlook the anterior jugular vein that arises below the chin from the veins draining the chin and lower lip, passes down the front of the neck superficially, and terminates in the external jugular vein at the lateral border of the anterior scalene muscle. Okay? There’s no ”fucken” jugular.

SMP: Can you put that in writing and send it to American Panda? If he thinks I don’t have one, maybe he won’t bite me.

Surgeon: Are you serious?

SMP: YES! Did you see his GRAPHS?

Surgeon: I’m going to write you a consult to a colleague of mine, he can…. ummm, help you.

SMP: As long as he takes out my fucken jugular, it’s a deal.

Surgeon: Yeah, he can take out your fucken jugular. *rolls eyes* Excuse me, I have to make a call and see if he has an open appointment.

[The surgeon flips open a cell phone, waits a few seconds, and…]

Surgeon: [whispering] Hey, buddy. Got one for ya…
….yeah, he’s a loon. Anything open this week?

Next week?

You have to take THIS one, we’ll be laughing at the golf course for months.

You do?
Sweet. I’ll send him over there next week then…

I think he does….

[The surgeon looks at Plants…]

Surgeon: You do have insurance, right?

SMP: Oh yeah, yeah. That’s what I’m doing right now, getting insurance. American Panda will not defeat me. No fucken jugular, no eating of fucken jugular, no win. That’s insurance! A foolproof policy!

[The surgeon is back to his phone conversation.]

He’s a five star whacko. See you at the country club.

[The Surgeon hangs up.]

Surgeon: You’re all set, Dr. Plants. He’ll see you next week and, uhrah… remove that pesky fucken jugular for you.

SMP: Thank you so much! You’re aces, kid!

[SMP jumps up and runs out of the office with renewed vigor. Wait awaits the “Sinister Surgeon©” next week? Will he survive fucken jugular removal?]

SMP: Shut up, narrator guy! Drastic means calls for drastic measures! Not just Chinese pandas… ALL PANDAS MUST DIE!


No apparent reason except fun

January 14th, 2009
Comments Off on No apparent reason except fun

Sam, Sam the Dancing Yam

[In den erstaunlichen Land von Sam Sam die Dancing Yam, können wir sehen, dass er sich bei einem kleinen Rest in der Hoffnung, gewinnt für einen Kampf auf BOB erste Show des Jahres im Januar Zwanzig Achtel.]

SSTDY – Speak English you fool. I don’t wish to have to rely on an unreliable Translator when it’s reliably unreliable.

[Sei ruhig du Narr. Ich bin für eine Prüfung üben.]

SSTDY – That may be true but we have a rant to polish off, and I doubt if the audience wants to hear you babbling on like an idiot for the new few hundred words or so in a language spoken by around 185 million people worldwide. I mean come the smeg on, what kind of person would do that to our vast and loyal fan base?

[We have a fan base? Since when?]

SSTDY – Since I won those two gauntlet match thingees?

[He gestures to the two Gauntlet Cup’s that lay on top of a particularly lovely carved Yam that’s made to look like a bedside table]

SSTDY – I have some Yam Fans. And you never know if I become popular enough I might complete my ultimate goal and get Yams recognized as an intelligent life-form. And dance like a maniac at the after party.

[Yes, yes. But shouldn’t you be more concerned with Lee Best and the Gauntlet Challenge? It could be as the name suggests quite a challenge.]

SSTDY – You see voice inside the head of the greatest Yam in the world.

[No need to get to penisy]

SSTDY – I will take Best on with the strength of 10,000 Yams, and when the dust clears Lee will be defeated like so much Yam Juicetm after a drinking session with that strange man who keeps punching his fellow degenerates while onlookers yell “Balls” or “This is Gonna Hurt”. Or that man who keeps entering someone called the “Sandman”. Two rather disturbing inderviduals if you ask me.

[Are you suppose to be cutting a promo against someone?]

SSTDY – Well I would if I had a match, but we shall see, as I have my eyes on that Title that seems to be able to hold itself, on no less then about four times if you include it’s current reign.

[He thinks for a moment]

SSTDY – Say isn’t it in control of a rather beautiful young girl who happens to be the ref? This could be fun.

[But first….]

SSTDY – It’s dancing time.

[Sam flicks on the Yam-o-vision Televisiontm and the greatest dance hit since ABBA, You Can’t This begins to blur and Sam dances like a maniac]