BOB eWrestling | Rant Zone Archive!

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

[The scene: Happy Ending Bar. Trey Vincent is sitting at the bar, emptying a glass full of brown liquid. That's when he noticed a lovely young thing next to him.]

TV: Wow (he said staring directly at her chest). Awesome.

[The Asian was about to get up when Trey put a hand on her shoulder.]

TV: You know how some guys are all about gigantic boobs. Let me tell you, honey. Those are absolutely perfect just the way they are. I bet some guys just pass you by. Their loss. Seriously. You have no idea what I would give just to have the honor of seeing that flat chest of yours and rubbing my face on it all night long. I’m harder than a wall, you’re flatter than one. We’re a perfect match. Seriously. Do me a favor. Promise me you’ll never get implants.

Asian: Seriously? You…who are you? I swear I’ve seen you before.

[Trey noticed the front door of the bar open then, and Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" stepped inside and scanned the place, probably looking for him.]

TV: Hey, I’ve gotta go hang out with my girlfriend. Wanna hang with us?

Asian: No thanks, I’m not into three-ways.

TV: How do you feel about lesbian sitch with a guy just watching?

Asian: I need to go.

TV: What if I’m not even in the room. Are you opposed to me watching via Web cam?

Asian: Not funny.

TV: Seriously, don’t get implants. Especially not from Dr. Silaconne M. Plants. He’ll ruin those fried eggs! Awwwwww! Plants, don’t think I forgot about you. I know you’ve been busy crying in your tears over Heidi’s cheatin’ pussy. Did you know I hit that, too? Oh yeah. I hit that. I think EVERYONE has hit that except for you by this point. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are a ton of flat-chested Asians in here I have to stop from getting unnecessary tit surgery from you. Once Kevin and I beat you and Paradox, a guy you’ve been having tons of problems with on the last couple episodes of iMPLOSION, well, I’ll be one step closer to shoving myself down everyone’s throats. Much like I’ll be doing to Sarah later. But shhhh. Don’t tell her. Heh.

Sarah: Hey, asshole.

TV: Hey, Sarah. You ready to get shitfaced?

Sarah: For the last time, no! Now let’s get drunk.

TV: Can’t blame a guy for trying.

Sarah: You’re sick. Now, about Studnuts. What’s the plan? He threatened my fallopian tubes!

TV: Honestly, I’m on my own mission tonight. To save the world of plastic surgery disasters. Won’t you help?

Sarah: What? Since when are you against gigantic boobs?

TV: Since SMP is my opponent next week on iMPLOSION. I need to crush him.

Sarah: Speaking of Plants and Heidi, what about Studnuts?

TV: Well, I guess everyone will just tune in to find out where I stand. Now, are you down with having a three-way with someone in here tonight, or do we need to crown a new ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS?

[Sarah stared at him in shock for several seconds.]

Sarah: You fucking asshole.

[Sarah grabbed a beer and threw it in his face and then stormed away toward the door.]

TV: *Hic* … Oh, fuck. KEY*Hic*STONE? That’s just LOW, Sarah!

[Trey retook his stool.]

TV: (To no one in particular) She’ll be back. Bartender! Ooh, I’m vibrating.

[Trey reached into his pants and pulled out his cell phone.]

TV: 602? Hello? … Connie Lingus? I was just looking at naked pictures of you yesterday. Tell me, what are you wearing? …

[The plot thickens? So we fade out with a confusing ending after a sad ending at the Happy Ending.]

Trey Vincent rant Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, e-fed, Kevin the Pyromaniac, Mr. Paradox, parody, Sarah "The Jobber Slayer", Steve Studnuts, Trey Vincent, wrestling

[Trey Vincent was lost in the hell that is Sin City's Chinatown district. He took off his black winter cap, rubbed his brown hair, and looked around at the bustling little Chinamen and Chinawomen.]

Voice: You awl rost.

[Trey spun around. A man with a long gray moustache stood behind him. Well, in front of him now.]

TV: I am Trey. Shit, you’re not gonna try and sell me a Gremlin, are you?

[The Chinese man did not react.]

Chinese Man: You awl found.

TV: How can I be both lose AND found, pal? C’mon. Do you know where the, uh, Happy Ending Bar is? I’m supposed to meet my girlfriend there.

Chinese Man: This sentence is farse.

TV: Huh?

Chinese Man: Such a shame. Yowl mind is weak. You rill not be able to defeat Dr. Siroconne M. Prants and Mistel Palladox at iMPROSION 8.

TV: Hey, how did you know that?

[The Chinese Man points at Trey's chest, which has a picture of himself with the words BOB Wrestling Presents TREY VINCENT + Kevin the Pyromaniac vs. Dr. Silaconne M. Plants + Mr. Paradox on iMPLOSION 8 on G5TV!]

TV: Oh, right. Our advertising budget sucks. I was thinking of using some Lite Brite things for some guerilla marketing tactics, but figured I didn’t want Homeland Security on my ass, get it? Wait, how did you know I’m Trey Vincent?

Chinese Man: Rucky guess.

TV: Look, pal, I’m not looking for a guru, can you just tell me how to get to the Happy Ending.

[A Chinese woman stops dead in her tracks.]

Chinese Girl: Peeg!

[She walks on.]

Chinese Man: Rich is bettawl, etelnar happriness oal a ham sandrich? It rould appeal tat etelnar happriness is bettawl, but this is learry not so! Aftel arr, noffing is bettaw zen etelnar happriness, and a ham sandrich is celtainry bettaw zen noting. Thellfoll, a ham sandrich is bettawl zen etelnar happriness.

TV: The fuck? Look, dude, I can barely understand whatever the fuck it is you’re trying to teach me.

Chinese Man: Mind reak. No ray you can beat Palladox.

TV: I don’t need a sharp mind. All I need is my outstanding body to beat the crap out of him and make him the star of “Deep Throat 2008″ when I make him give head to his own sword, get it?

Chinese Man: Nor learry.

TV: Leary?

Chinese Man: Reawwy?

TV: What are you TALKING about?! I’m Trey Vincent!

Chinese Man: Learry?

TV: Yes, REALLY! I know you get your R’s and L’s fucked up, but c’mon, man. This is just silly. I’ve got to go now. Later…

Chinese Man: Rait!

TV: (Mocking) Rut?

Chinese Man: Everyrun is aflaid of Dlacura. Dlacura is aflaid of only me. Thellfore, I am Dlacura!

TV: Oh, c’mon. You are NOT Dracula! You don’t have any fangs. Or a cape. If your next words are “I raunt to suck youl brud…

Chinese Man: Ry am I Dlacura?

TV: I don’t know!

Chinese Man: Yes, you do!

TV: *Sigh* Because Dracula’s a fag?

Chinese Man: Long!

[He throws a chopstick at Trey.]

TV: Hey!

Chinese Man: Ry am I Dlacura? How can you defeat Mistel Palladox unress you know ry I’m Dlacura!

TV: I don’t know. Umm… OK. Everyone’s afraid of Dracula, right? So, that means Dracula is afraid of Dracula. So, Dracula is afraid of Dracula, but also is afraid of no one but you. Therefore, you’re Dracula?

Chinese Man: To get to Happy Ending Bawl, rawk thlee brocks, zen tuln reft at thaw right.

TV: Turn left at the right? Oh, light. Right. Got it. Later, jackfuck.

[Trey walks away in the direction the Chinese Man instructed.]

Female Voice: Excuse me, sir? Do you know how to get to the Happy Ending?

[The Chinese Man came face to face with a beautiful blonde woman.]

Female: I’m supposed to meet soem guy there.

Chinese Man: Sure. Three fuckin’ blocks that fuckin’ way, turn your fuckin’ ass left at the fuckin’ light, ya dig, jerkweed?

Female: Who are you, Chink Chinknuts?

[She walks away, flipping him off without looking back.]

Trey Vincent rant Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, e-fed, Kevin the Pyromaniac, Mr. Paradox, parody, roleplay, Trey Vincent, wrestling

[We open at Trey Vincent's office, which is — sadly — his apartment, because BOB no longer has corporate offices as a result of that Comedy Central fiasco. Trey is seated in a black leather chair in front of a computer monitor, which sits atop a generic folding table (the same kind that guys usually get put through on wrestling shows, you know the kind). A framed picture of Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" can be seen over his left shoulder.]

TV: Greetings, humans. I know what you’re thinking. Trey, you’re doing a Rant? But you don’t have a match this week on iMPLOSION 7. WTF? This is true. But I come with a message for all BOBsters to read, or hear, or whatever. That idiot underling, Ted, forgot to mention something important about the Royal Flush Rumble weapon match. You get to pick your weapon. Now, this is important, because if YOU don’t pick your weapon…

[Trey picks up a Darth Vader mask and puts it on.]

TV: I WILL! Hooooo. Heeeee. Hoooo. Heeeee.

[Trey takes off the Vader mask.]

TV: Who the fuck is Garth Vader? And how the hell did Axl get into the Beer in the Belly Match? Didn’t I, or somebody very similar to me, say that to get in the BITB match that you had to have never won the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS? Didn’t Izzy have the title for like two seconds or something? I’ll get back to you in a second, Gilby.

TV: Also, I didn’t hear from Mr. Paradox this week, so he’s in the Royal Flush match. It’s amazing how my own underlings won’t even reply to my PMs. Bastards. So, to Death, XXXtreme Machine, Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, Mr. Paradox, Luke Warm, Pigeon, The Great, and Duff, pick your weapon, or I’ll pick it for you! What will you get?

[Trey looks around.]

TV: Well, you might get such great items, as, uh, a circular for the local supermarket. And we all now how dangerous newspapers are! Or, maybe…

[Trey looks around. Trey drags a plastic trash bag in front of him.]

TV: An empty pasta box. Oh, I’ve got tissues boys. You think Sarah’s snot is gonna propel you to the final eight in the Grand Slam tournament? Maybe we’ll find out. What else is in here…bananas peels, an empty diet soda can, crushed water bottles. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Fuck the earth, fuck recycling and fuck Al Gore. You want a weapon, you name it. Or you’ll get my garbage.

[Trey turns around and checks his email.]

TV: Ah, excellent. Looks like SMP has already weighed in with his weapon of choice. This pleases me.

[Trey turns around.]

TV: Now, as for the rest of you. Choose your weapon. Or suck on my garbage. That is all for now. One other thing. I’ll shortly be getting out my famous deck of Hooters cards to determine the order of entrance. It will be random. And it may take a while. *Ahem* Right. So, back to Matt Sorum. I don’t know who this Garth Vader is, but this stupidity is going to end soon. I don’t know who this Superior Power is, but so help me if it’s BigBOSS, or Seth Harker, or, ME, I’ll be so pissed. I’m the most Superior Power in BOB so it must be me, which SUCKS, because I can’t stand Axl or Pigeon or any of those guys. In the words of your own latest member, “hell yeah, you fucking suck.”

TV: Until we meet agayne…

[Cut.]

Trey Vincent rant Axl, BigBOSS, Death, Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, Duff, Garth Vader, Luke Warm, Mr. Paradox, Pigeon, seth harker, Trey Vincent, XXXtreme Machine

Studs: Fuck it, that match is already written. Why should I have to be entertaining to anybody other than myself at this point? This roleplay will not change that outcome.

[Trey Vincent is sitting at his computer.]

TV: Wow. He’s really giving me a LOT of credit. He thinks I’ve written a show that’s two weeks away! BWAHAHAHA!

[Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" walks into the room.]

Sarah: Who are you talking to?

TV: The computer, of course. Nobody else around here listens to me…

Sarah: What? Oh, look. It’s Steve Studnuts. What the hell, he never posted any of that footage from his night out in Sin City with Nurse Heidi in the Rant Zone from a couple weeks back? I told you he wouldn’t.

TV: As long as Steve and Heidi had a good time, and nobody got pregnant, that’s all I care about.

Sarah: What about a VD?

TV: You think Heidi gave Studs a VD? Meee-ow.

Sarah: Actually, more the other way around.

TV: Oh, and since the show hasn’t been posted yet, Coma, Hallucination Boy. You’re so losing.

Sarah: Oh, right. You’ve got that whole psychic thing from when you were in Coma, right?

TV: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not in COMA. In A coma.

Sarah: Whatever. I’m bored. Where’s my vibrating banana?

[Cut.]

Trey Vincent rant e-fed, parody, Sarah "The Jobber Slayer", Steve Studnuts, Trey Vincent, wrestling

[A bar. Pretty empty. "Chinese Burn" by Curve is blaring over the sound system. Only one girl is sitting at the bar. Trey Vincent approaches.]

TV: Kyra? What a coincidence.

Kyra: Have we fucked?

TV: Yeah.

Kyra: I knew your face looked familiar. What’s up?

TV: Nothing. Just getting some beers.

Kyra: Drinking makes me so horny…what was your name again?

TV: Trey.

Kyra: Right. The wrestler.

TV: Sports entertainer. And blinking makes me horny.

Kyra: Really?

[She jams her hand in between his legs.]

Kyra: Liar.

[Pause.]

TV: Hold on.

Kyra: Waiting…oh, hello?

TV: Right.

Kyra: You really shouldn’t have done so many steroids.

TV: Fuck you, bitch.

Kyra: Is that a clit or are you just half-Chinese?

TV: You kiss your mother with that mouth?

Kyra: No. I suck cocks with it.

TV: I can’t believe you…

Kyra: Yeah, well, get used to it. If you’re gonna keep going to all my favorite dive bars and sitting next to me and, fuck, filming me? And by the way, next time, his camera stays, but he has to leave.

Cameraman: Awww!

TV: Damn, my promos are so vulgar. My last one was sponsored by the Filipina Gallery. Mail order brides from the Philippines.

Kyra: Oh yeah? You gonna order one? Could be fun for us.

TV: Us? Seriously?

Kyra: Sure. You know what would be hot? I could send for her, then we could go to Massachusetts, get married, and then you could commit adultery with both of us. You’re going to hell anyway, right? Might as well enjoy the ride.

[She downs a shot of something.]

Kyra: Man, it feels good to have fun. Let’s go fuck in the bathroom.

TV: Right.

[Jump cut. Trey's suddenly at the men's room door.]

TV: What are you waiting for?

[Kyra's still at the bar.]

Kyra: (Doing a double take) How the fuck did you move that fast? Wait, wait. Before, you have to impress me. You’ve got a match with Luke Warm and SMP.

[Trey returns to his stool at the bar sighing.]

Kyra: Bartender. Can I get…hmm…six amaretto sours?

Bartender: Are you driving?

Kyra: Oh, they’re not for me. They’re all for him.

Bartender: Are you driving?

TV: Nah. I learned my lesson. This one time, I was speeding down the highway and lost control of my car, went through a guardrail, rolled down a cliff, bounced off a tree, landed upside down and finally stopped. The car was smoking and steaming. Some guy came down to check on me. He’s like, “Dude, are you drunk?” And I yelled at him, “Of course I’m drunk! What the hell do you think I am, a stunt driver or something?”

Bartender: Right, so you got your license suspended.

TV: Well, actually, no. Luckily, it was a stolen car.

Bartender: What?

TV: So, they couldn’t trace it to me, you see. But, no, I’m not driving. My apartment is right down the road. I can’t afford to drive around my Jeep too much. Especially since BigBOSS hid all my employees Social Security numbers.

Bartender: Fine. But if you die, I swear I’ll come to your wake and piss on you.

TV: Lovely. Sounds fine to me.

Kyra: Yeah, Trey loves it when guys piss on him.

TV: Hey!

Kyra: Right. So here’s the deal. You need to drink these drinks. And then you have to totally out rant SMP.

TV: Why? He’s not focused on me. Sadly, when he’s drunk, he’s focusing on Axl and Pete Trable. Why isn’t he focused on Nurse Heidi like he should be? I’d focus all over her face and those bodacious tatas.

Kyra: So, you’d say you’re easily going to beat Luke Warm and Dr. Silaconne M. Plants.

TV: Hell, Trey Vincent doesn’t have to. I just need to get disqualified so I don’t lose the titles. And Plants, remember this. Nobody knows more ways to get himself disqualified than Trey Vincent.

Kyra: Why are you talking in third person?

TV: Heh, I just channeled The Great for some reason. But I did it before The Great did it. But it was just too big of a pain in the ass, so I stopped because Trey Vincent kept going in and out of third person and first person. Like I am right now.

Kyra: Yeah, and The Rock did it before you.

TV: That guy who’s running for president?

Kyra: Barack Obama?

TV: Yeah. Wasn’t he the one who did that whole “people’s champion” bullshit. You know…”Barack says, Barack says, Barack says know your damn role?”

Kyra: No, no, different person.

[The drinks arrive.]

TV: FINALLY!

Kyra: Drink up, Trey. And show SMP how a real man drinks amarettos.

[Trey stares at the drinks.]

TV: Do real men drink amaretto?

Kyra: No. It’s kind of a faggy drink.

TV: No wonder SMP’s watching Axl and Pete Trable promos. If we had seen him from the waist down, he probably would’ve been naked and messy. Plants. You sissy. Go watch your Axl promos, go get drunk, and don’t worry about me or anything. You only have a guy who hasn’t ranted as your partner. Me? I’ve got a little psychotic flammable leprechaun as a partner. You’re in deep trouble. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go do some more important things.

[Trey stares at the drinks.]

TV: Ahh. I know what I can use those for. If you thought the Shock and Awe was something, just wait until you get Donkey Punched.

Kyra: You talk big. Bring it, bitch.

[Cut.]

Trey Vincent rant Axl, Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, e-fed, e-wrestling, Luke Warm, Mr. Paradox, parody, The Great, Trey Vincent, wrestling, XFactor Pete Trable

[Inside a strip club somewhere in Sin City, Trey Vincent was staring at a bottle of beer on the bar in front of him. This, of course, was only because there wasn't a stripper currently stripping on stage in front of him.]

Female Voice: So, this is how you train for your big match?

[Puzzled, Trey Vincent turned around to find some chick who looked like an Avril Lavigne punk grrl wannabe.]

TV: Nice belt buckle. Wanna?

[She's wearing a "FUCK" belt buckle. A fuckle, if you will.]

Punk Girl: You don’t even know me, Trey.

TV: I’m famous. I’m on TV. Want a beer, whatever your name is? Or should I just call you Punk Girl?

PG: No, you shouldn’t call me that. Because I’m definitely not rated PG. More in the R/NC-17 area.

TV: You want to get with me, you better have the initials XXX, honey. Should I call you Xandra Xena Xaviera, or what?

PG: Kyra.

TV: So noted.

Kyra: So what brings you here tonight. It’s Valentine’s, man. Shouldn’t you be with some chick?

TV: Well, I was…

Caption: Two Hours Ago.

[The scene: Trey's apartment.]

Misty Waters: Trey, can we talk for a minute.

TV: Gotta go.

[Back to the present at the strip club.]

TV: Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with some…other chick playing scissors?

Kyra: You assume I’m a lesbian because I’m in a strip club?

TV: Well, yeah.

Kyra: I’m down with whoever’s the hottest person I can find at the time. Two beers please, honey?

Waitress: Sure thing.

TV: Thanks.

Kyra: For what? They’re both for me. Did you want one?

TV: You are so hot.

Kyra: Yeah I am. Man, when’s the next chick coming out?

TV: I suddenly don’t give a crap.

Kyra: What’s with the camera?

TV: I’m like Michael Moore. I just have cameras following me around because I’m important and every minute of my life has to be documented. Eventually, I’ll probably turn this into a promo if anything interesting happens where I can talk shit about Dr. Silaconne M. Plants and Luke Warm. And possibly Kevin the Pyromaniac just for shits.

[The beers arrive. She pays the waitress the cash in $1 bills.]

TV: You watch BOB?

Kyra: Hell yeah. Kay Fabe is hot as hell. Misty’s pretty hot, too. Think I could meet her?

TV: Do you like talking?

Kyra: Not so much. Oh, right. The flashback. You like to talk, Trey.

TV: Only if it’s about me or fucking.

[Kyra guzzles beer number one in a matter of seconds. She burps and slams the bottle down on the bar. Beer number two is then gone in a few more seconds. She again burps and wipes off her mouth with her fingers.]

Kyra: Mmm. Good stuff. Wanna? (She points at her belt buckle.) I’ll give you some great training for Plants and Warm. Best workout of your life.

[Trey smiles.]

Kyra: Is Kevin around?

TV: Uh, no. Why?

Kyra: Just making sure you won’t be tagging out to him at any point.

TV: I don’t need a tag partner to fuck you. Hell, I don’t even need a tag partner to beat Luke Warm and Plants at Totally Dead. You’ll both have to take my word on it for now. Kyra, I’m gonna prove it to you right now. Plants, Warm, whatever. I’ve gotta go. More important things. Hey, Kyra, would you mind trying to hit a Nipple Cutter on me, or maybe a STONECUTTER?

Kyra: I can’t wait to see your counter move.

TV: I call it the Shock And Awe.

[Cut.]

Trey Vincent rant Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, e-fed, e-wrestling, Kay Fabe, Kevin the Pyromaniac, Luke Warm, parody, Trey Vincent, wrestling

[Open at a Chinese food restaurant. Misty Waters and Trey Vincent are seated at a table in the mostly empty restaurant. Misty breaks a fortune cookie in half.]

MW: Fortune cookie say, “Help, I’m being held prisoner in a Chinese bakery!” What’s yours?

[Trey doesn't respond.]

MW: Trey?

TV: Huh? Oh. Right.

[Trey breaks his fortune cookie in half.]

TV: Your present plants are going to succeed? The fuck?

MW: Does that mean SMP’s going to beat you and Kevin the Pyromaniac for the tag titles at Totally Dead?

TV: I don’t know. It wasn’t a capital P. But hey, like Death said, I’m the toughest champion in the game today.

MW: Why does Death keep saying that sort of stuff about you? Because you’re writing his promos?

TV: Probably. But he could actually mean it. Waiter?

Waiter: Yes?

TV: Can I get a Yoohoo?

Waiter: … Yoohoo?

TV: Yeah, the drink.

Waiter: We don’t carry Yoohoo, sir.

TV: What a shock. Nobody does. Thanks. Go away.

[He does.]

TV: Yoohoo. I was watching Rachael Ray the other day. And she showed how you make Yoohoo. It’s really simple. You get a kiddie pool, fill it up with water, and then she strips down, gets in, and takes a giant shit in the pool. Then she mixes it around and tosses in some butter.

MW: What?

TV: Cilantro.

MW: What?

TV: Cloves.

MW: What the hell are you talking about?

TV: Then she rolls around in her own filthy concoction, and then they bottle it.

MW: Trey?

TV: Yes?

MW: That didn’t happen.

TV: Are you sure?

MW: Positive. You must have been dreaming again. She isn’t some hardcore porn cook.

TV: Well, she should be.

MW: You frighten me.

TV: Hey, look! Kevin the Pyromaniac’s here, and he’s doing his impersonation of a Luke Warm rant!

[The camera cuts toward the doorway. It's empty.]

TV: Bravo! Bravo, Kevin. Luke Warm. You wanted the tag titles, you got your shot. Your bad luck? It’s against BOB Vice President In Charge of Everything. So, unless you happen to get Kevin in the ring, you have NO shot of taking this title from me. You’ve only just begun to feel my booking wrath, boys. You want screwjobs? I got screwjobs. There is no way in Minnesota that I’ll ever give you two a NO DQ, no countout sort of match, so these belts will be mine for a long time.

MW: You shouldn’t take SMP lightly, Trey.

TV: I’m not. I’m taking Luke Warm lightly. When I was dirtying diapers, SMP was becoming the Dirtiest Boobie Enhancer in the game today. When Heidi was doing porn, I was just starting to jerk off to it. When they were in the STWF, I didn’t have an ISP connection.

MW: Your point?

TV: They’re old?

MW: Been done.

TV: How about this. SMP is creatively bankrupt. He’s admitted as much in his promos. And you know what hurts the most? He didn’t ask ME to write his promos. He asked some guy named Leary? What is THAT?

MW: Got me…

TV: Well, Plants. As a matter of fact, since I am a former private investigator and have some friends in law enforcement, I’ve put out a warrant for your brain. I’ve also issue an all points bulletin. So if anybody has seen Plants’s brain, please, call your local police department. Alright, let’s finish this.

[Trey breaks another fortune cookie. This one is green for some reason.]

TV: It’s green because it’s a Trey Vincent fortune cookie. Let’s see here…Trey Vincent say you have no chance of winning the Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Titles. Well, there you go, Sil, Luke. I couldn’t sum it up any better than that fortune cookie just did. So I won’t.

MW: Hey, what about Mr. Paradox and Dr. Thrilla? And did Little Good tell you who Soem Guy–

[Static.]

Trey Vincent rant Death, e-fed, e-wrestling, Kevin the Pyromaniac, Little Good, Misty Waters, parody, Trey Vincent, wrestling

[Scene opens with Trey Vincent wearing a turban, seated behind a desk, dressed up as Cognac The Magnificint...Mangnificnent...Magnivincent? Fuck!]

TV: Fuck! My brain’s on strike, too! And you wonder why the show’s late? I can’t even type! I mean…speak?

Misty Waters: Hahaha. YES! YES! YES!

[The camera pans back to reveal Misty Waters in a school girl uniform.]

TV: Thank you, Misty McOrgasm.

MW: YES, YES, YES!

TV: Is it cold in here, or is it just your nipples?

MW: HIYO!

TV: Wow. This bit is really dated.

MW: Simsalibim. Cognac, by the way, nice job on the subject line. Typing in the security code as your subject. What a way to fight the system.

TV: Whatever. In my hand, I have three hermetically sealed envelopes. They provide the questions, but I will provide the answers, psychically, that will no doubt hilariously rip to shreds my foes at MEGABRAWL!

MW: Uh, Trey? MEGABRAWL was last month. Remember? The one where Michelle got Pigeon dropped.

TV: Oh, right. Good times!

MW: You sure you’re a psychic?

TV: Cognac needs a drink! And a place to warm my fingers. Misty, spread your legs.

MW: Hiyo!

TV: May your brain go on strike so you’re forced into recycling old Howard Stern bits based on Johnny Carson bits.

MW: Simsalibim.

TV: Alright. Let’s get to this. I don’t have much time.

[Trey holds an envelope to his head and closes his eyes.]

TV: A clown, Coma, and Misty McOrgasm.

MW: A clown, Coma, and Misty McOrgasm.

TV: Is there an echo in here?

*RIP*

*POOF*

TV: Name a Doink, a guy I will annihilate at New Horizon whose catchphrase is Poink, and a chick I really want to boink.

MW: Is this bit supposed to be funny?

TV: That depends on your definition of funny…

MW: Right.

TV: OK.

[Trey holds an envelope to his head and closes his eyes.]

TV: The iAd. Something long and hard. And Pete Trable defeating Trey Vincent at New Horizon.

MW: Wow, that’s long.

TV: Stop looking at Cognac’s Magnivincent bulge and do your job.

MW: I meant the answer.

TV: The answer? Right. Is it so hard to cut and paste?

MW: Just keepin’ it fake. *Sigh* The iAd. Something long and hard. And Pete Trable defeating Trey Vincent at New Horizon.

*RIP*

*POOF*

TV: Name a stable, a table, and a fable.

MW: Huh?

TV: Cognac is drunk!

MW: I wish I was. I’ve never heard of a “long and hard” table.

TV: I’m sure you’ve heard of something else that’s long and hard. And if not, come under the desk and I’ll show you.

MW: HIYO!

TV: The Yugo. The Pinto. And XXXtreme Machine.

MW: The Yugo. The Pinto. And XXXtreme Machine.

*RIP*

*POOF*

TV: Name three worthless machines!

MW: HIYO! Hahaha! YES! YES! YES!

TV: Cognac must go…to the bar! See you all…in hell. Order New Horizon, bitches!

[Trey trips and falls. Fade.]

Trey Vincent rant Coma, e-fed, e-wrestling, Misty Waters, parody, Trey Vincent, wrestling, XFactor Pete Trable, XXXtreme Machine

[A 4x6 photograph of Pigeon comes on the screen.]

“Pigeon”: What about me? What about ECK, ECK, ECK!

[A 4x6 photograph of Michelle bounces on screen.]

“Michelle”: What’s the matter, Pigeon? What about what? No! No!

[Fade to brief opening credits featuring a picture of a skull.]

Caption: VINCENT, V.P.

Caption: Starring Trey Vincent. And Misty Waters.

[And that's all the credits we could afford. Cut to a bed in Trey Vincent's apartment. The picture of Pigeon is laying in the bed. Trey Vincent limps into the shot with his skull cane. Misty Waters is standing at bedside in a white lab coat.]

TV: I only hired you because you’re hot.

MW: Damn you, Vincent! Do me right here on the patient!

“Michelle”: Help my sex slave!

TV: Who said that? Wow, you’re flat. I seriously used to have sex with you? What did I grab onto?

[He pulls out a bottle of "pills" and downs a whole bunch.

"Pigeon": ECK! ECK! ECK!

TV: Mmmphh mphhh mpffff.

MW: Vincent, you're spitting Vicadins everywhere!

TV: Mmph foo!

MW: The patient came in saying nothing but "ECK!"

TV: ECK? Boring. That's an easy diagnosis.

"Michelle": Save him! Please! I loverz him!

TV: Loverz?

MW: Sorry.

TV: *Ahem* Our boy here has Choke-Again Disease.

MW: Choke-Again?

TV: Exactly. That's why he can't say anything but "ECK." His chronic disease must have sprung up once he realized he has to face myself and Misty Waters in a mixed tag team match at MEGABRAWL.

MW: MEGABRAWL?

TV: December 15. Usually, he only chokes during matches. This is a severe flare-up.

MW: Mmm. What can we do?

"Michelle": Yes. What can we do?

TV: I first became aware of his illness when I saw him sports entertaining with Sir Zeno. When you can't defeat Zeno, or at least run him out of the promotion you're running due to inactivity, that's a sure sign you're a choker. Pigeon, buddy, I'm afraid there's no way to avoid jobbing to me and Misty.

Pigeon: ECK! ECK! ECK!

TV: I'm sorry.

[Cut to Flatline.]

Flatline: Uhhhh….beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep?

Trey Vincent rant e-fed, ewrestling, Michelle, Misty Waters, parody, Pigeon, Trey Vincent, wrestling