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Posts Tagged ‘BOB Wrestling’

MegaBrawl II Preview!

December 2nd, 2008
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It’s beginning to look at lot like MegaBrawl II! Yes, Brawlers On a Budget’s biggest show of the year, MegaBrawl II, rolls into Sin City Stadium Dec. 13. Here’s what you can expect to see on the great-grandson of them all…

It’s A Wonderful Curtain Jerker Battle Royal! Yes, the winner of this one will get a shot at the Swiss Army Belt sometime down the line. The following BOBsters are scheduled to appear in this match: Little Good, Pigeon, Pretty Boy, Snapmare Kid, Tia Tar, XFactor Pete Trable, and XXXtreme Machine!

Then, two team are dreaming of a title shot for the Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Team Titles, but only one can wrap up the win as The Wizard and Thomas Largeman battle Steel Chair and his apprentice The Human Foreign Object!

Then, it’s a nightmare before Christmas for feuding brothers Axl and Viruz, who are set to go one on one in a Anywhere "Anywhere Is" Is Playing Match.

Insano Mano and Kamikazie Ken have sure been naughty to nice guys Coma and Hallucination Boy. What to do? Rakes On a Plane! Yes siree, we’re gonna send these four guys up on an airplane filled with rakes and let them settle the score.

Is Zombie Mr. Fantastic the grinch who stole Death‘s wife, Katie? Perhaps, but Death and Zombie Mr. Fantastic will finally have it out at MegaBrawl II in a grudge match!

Two men will be walking in a planky wonderland, as Seth Harker puts up his Acting BigBOSSship against Kid Pirate in a Walk the Plank Match!

If all you want for Christmas is some T&A, well then you’re in luck, because Sarah "The Jobber Slayer" will defend her T&A XX Division Title against Jerri Li in a Bra & Panties Soap Suds Match! Ho ho ho!

Joy to the world, a new ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS number one contender is come! But who will it be? Kurt Angel, The Great, Kobe Gyant, or American Panda?

Violent night, holy (shit) night, in the main event, EVERYTHING is on the line as Steve Studnuts defends the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS and his half of the Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Team Titles against Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, who is also putting the Swiss Army Belt and HIS half of the Not Good Enough To Fight Alone Tag Team Titles. The match will be a Nicolas Cage Match, which means various Nicolas Cage DVDs will be hung on the cage and available for use as weapons in the match! Also, SMP has agreed to put his CAREER on the line, so if he loses, he’s done in BOB!

It should be an unforgettable event! Don’t miss it! Send us your money now!

(Card subject to bait-and-switch)

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BOB Wrestling Presents: Total Non-Action Wrestling iMPLOSION! #13

October 15th, 2008
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This Wednesday, Brawlers On a Budget returns to G5 TV with Total Non-Action Wrestling iMPLOSION! #13, the final stop before our next BOB-On-Demand event, October Surprise.

BOBWrestling.com has received the following information regarding Wednesday’s iMPLOSION from BOB’s Acting Vice President In Charge of Everything Dr. Silaconne M. Plants:

Kid Pirate takes on Zombie Mr. Fantastic!

Kobe Gyant + Al U-Minium Ladder team up to take on Steel Chair + Red Chair in a preview of Snore Games at October Surprise!

-Plus, Jerri Li takes on Kay Fabe!

-And in the main event, Swiss Army Belt champion Steve Studnuts defends against The Great, Death, XFactor Pete Trable, and "Stupendous" Stephen Hawking in a Swiss Army Belt Scrabble Scramble Match. Here are the rules for the match: The match will last 20 minutes. The order of entry is as follows: XFactor Pete Trable, Death, The Great, Steve Studnuts, "Stupendous" Stephen Hawking.

There are two ways to win. Either A. You pin every other competitor in the match before the 20 minute time limit expires (i.e., Studnuts would have to pin The Great, Death, Trable, and Hawking before time expires), or B. Score the last pin in the match. There are no DQs or countouts. Also, just confirmed: football players from the Sin City Icons of the FBL will be at ringside making Scrambled Eggs for use as weapons. This one will no doubt get egg-treme!

-Also now that Axl is gone from BOB, what does that mean for Viruz‘s future? And what will American Panda‘s reaction be to the brutal assault last week at the hands of Axl?

-And will we find out who bought the Beer in the Belly case? Trey Vincent indicated that he sold it on iMPLOSION 11. Could we see it cashed in?

All this, and possibly less on the next Total Non-Action Wrestling iMPLOSION!

(Card subject to bait-and-switch)

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THE REMOTE OF DOOM! Part 2

September 19th, 2008
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(THE FOLLOWING IS POSSIBLE DUE TO THE COOPERATION AND CONSENT OF THE OPPOSING HANDLER. THANK YOU!)

The Great

Nick: It’s counting down! It’s loading!

(The fuzzy t.v. screen clears and focuses on an attractive brunette.)

Nick: Who’s that woman, Dad?

“The Great”: Shhhhh. Maybe it’s illegal scat porn.

Nick: What?

“The Great”: Nothing, Nick. The Great just understands from another thread that saying “scat” is good for the Brawler’s on a Budget advertising campaign.

Nick: I don’t get it.

Little Johnny: You probably never will. Now quiet, children. This technology is fascinating to say the least.

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: Hello gentlemen. Stupendous Steven Hawking, the most intelligent wrestler in BOB history and the most exciting on four wheels, has interrupted your regular viewing by tapping into your satellite service so I can bring you this message. The Great, this is directed at you. I have an offer for you. An offer you certainly cannot resist.

Little Johnny: Ahh, love is in the air. She’s going to give you a shot of leg, old man.

“The Great”: No way. The Great does not stray. And The Great does not think that’s her agenda.

Little Johnny: Her man is the ultimate Intellectual Vegetable. Nerd-like boring and limp as a biscuit. Of course she’s starved for some Horizontal Mombo.

Nick: Biscuits ain’t vegetables! Dad! Is Johnny talking about sex?

“The Great”: No, son. And The Great is not interested. The Great is married.

Little Johhny: Please, Father. I recently read some where that married men were the worst cheaters.

“The Great”: Touche.

Little Johnny: Pardon? Did you just call me a douche?

“The Great”: Ummm. No. The Great said “two shay”.

Little Johnny: Touché. How difficult was that?

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: Are you guys finished? I haven’t got all day.

“The Great”: The Great is sorry. What is the offer? The Great is curious. Nick, go to your room just in case this gets R rated.

Nick: Aw man! I’m telling mom!

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: It’s not about sex. Nick can stay.

Nick: Yeah!

Little Johnny: Damn.

“The Great”: Johhny, watch your language. What is this offer you have for The Great? But The Great should warn you, The Great doesn’t take bribes.

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: Can you stop that? That third person thing is really annoying. I didn’t like it when The Rock was doing it either, and you’re no Rock.

Little Johnny: Ha! She called him The Rack.

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: So my voice translation isn’t perfect. I lied earlier, my voice was lost due to the cockroach skin tag on my shoulder. It was a form of cancer that spread to my larynx. Anyway, let’s get down to business. You can give us something we need, and I can give you something you need. If you can guarantee a victory for Steven Hawking at implosion eleven, by whatever means you desire to lose the match, I’ll cook you the largest Thanksgiving dinner you’ve ever seen. Fit for a king, and it’s not even Thanksgiving yet.

(The camera zooms in on The Great. His eyes are glassy and he’s noticeably salivating.)

Nick: Don’t do it, Dad! You need to win!

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: Steven Hawking has published several books and he’s rich. I think he can spare the funds for a new ex box three sixty and halo three as well.

(Nick is now having an euphoric seizure on the floor.)

Little Johnny: This is perposterous. I don’t think—-

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: I’m sure Steven can score some plutonium also. He has the contacts to get it done.

(Little Johnny faints, curls up into fetal position and starts sucking his thumb.)

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

Angelina X: I’m confident you’ll make the right choice. It was great doing business with you, The Great. See you later, hugs and kisses.

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teh 9roMu

September 13th, 2008
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XXXtreme Machine

[XXXtreme Machine is stood outside the Hamptonshire Country Club trying his best to get past a security guard eating a watercress sandwich.]

Security Guard: I’m sorry sir, this is a privately owned establishment.

XM: byt 1 m T harrkoah#!1

[A gray haired individual in a magenta robe steps beside the guard.]

Chester Hamptonshire: It’s ok Percy, let me give this gentleman a tour of the grounds.

Security Guard: Yes Mr. Hamptonshire.

[The security guard munches down the last of his sandwich with a frown as Chester escorts XXXtreme Machine along the side of the building.]

Chester: These are our grounds, over there you will see both our tennis courts and outside squash courts, and over here you will see our esteemed golf course where we had respected professionals such as Seve Ballesteros and Nick Price compete in our annual tournaments.

XM: dib u hef tehgo wudfz hur~?

Chester: Oh my no, we do not allow negroes on the premises.

XM: vatd reisisd!!”

[Chester Hamptonshire clears his throat.]

Chester: And if you will follow me I will escort you to our swimming baths.

[XXXtreme Machine follows back towards the main building. They walk through a large set of double doors into a white tiled atrium with an azure pool set in the middle of the floor.]

Chester: We have only the finest water flew over to us from the alpine springs to make our swimming pools. I hope this isn’t too forward a question to an individual such as yourself, but if you have a bathing suit with you I must ask if you would care for a dip?

XM: y vuken faj~! t wund tecc muh crovez ufv!!3

Chester: Oh my, I only meant for you to change in our elegantly designed black marble changing rooms and swimming a few laps. I meant no lewd connotations of which you speak.

[XXXtreme Machine hits a weak ass punch to Mr. Hamptonshire and runs back out through the door.]

XM: veez fug9E puth poopul eynt gnu ruyehp ne!1

[XXXtreme Machine runs through the grounds, avoiding the sprinklers and horse laughs of rich people, back to the main gates. The security guard from earlier raises an eyebrow.]

XM: 2huz pr4f sui hllee~~~!

[XXXtreme Machine punches the security guard and props him up on the head of a marble statue. XXXtreme Stunner on the security guard!]

XM: xxXtrim mssjiim si gyh b teh nekz unri wohlt shumpyun hdet mu7tuhs#!

[XXXtreme Machine climbs into a golf cart and drives off into the sunset.]

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There’s No Booze In Hell

September 3rd, 2008
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Death

[A bar? But not just any bar. This is the bar where Death got his big break in the wrestling business. He appeared in his first wrestling promo at this bar many years ago. OK, “big break” is probably pushing it, considering the promo appeared in Metal Edge Wrestling. But you have to start at the bottom, right? Anyway, it looks even more piss stained and decrepit than it did then. The bar area is empty, except for one tall figure wearing a cloak. A bony hand snatches a bottle of beer off the bar. After guzzling it for several seconds, Death’s custom-made cloak is soaked with beer.]

Death: You know….

[Death knee lifts the bar and notices he’s all wet.]

Death: Sonofa! Who stole my skin! BWAHAHAHAHA!

Bartender: Alright, buddy. I think you’ve had just about—

[Death put a bony finger against the man’s throat. Throat cancer. Instant death.]

Voice: The bartender’s dead! LET’S RIOT!

[Sounds of stampeding drunks and crashing furniture.]

Death: Uh oh.

[8 hours later. We return to the scene. Bodies are down everywhere. Looks like Death was busy.]

Death: Me? They did it to themselves. Well, except for that old guy there. He just really annoyed me. Well, now I know why they call them riots. That was hilarious! Although, now there’s not a drop of booze left in the place! Pure hell, right, Trey? It’s like your worst nightmare. A bar without beer. That’s exactly what it’s gonna be like for you at Running On Empty, buddy. Mr. Sports Entertainment Icon. Mr. Franchise Player. Mr. Vice President in Charge of Everything.

Death: Everyone knows I was the brains behind the Skull & Bones Society. And with my newest buddy, Kurt Angel, you know, that guy who beat you for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS before he ascended to Heaven, a.k.a., Action Wrestling? We’ve formed the Skull & Stoned Society. Theoretically. Not that we’ve worked out any details, but I’m pretty sure we’re cool. I’ll have to check with the guy who runs this place. And I’m not talking about YOU, Trey. You’re just a puppet. And it’s a good thing I’ve got the right to bear arms, cuz I’m shooting, baby!

Death: Anyway…you’re scum. Yadda yadda yadda. Trey, after you die, you’ll be sent to sports entertainment hell, where you’ll be forced to watch CircularAnswer Rants for all eternity. I have more talent in my one finger than you have in your whole body. I have a license to kill. Seriously…

[Death digs in his cloak.]

Death: It’s expired? Oh man. Trey, you and my license are gonna have a lot in common! You’re both gonna be expired! Yeah, come and arrest me for killing without a license, copper!

[How much did you have to drink, Death?]

Death: And Zombie Mr. Fantastic! Quit calling my zombie cheerleader nurse wife! For the last time, Katie’s not interested! *Shakes his bony fist in the air*

Death: And Studnuts, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. Wait, what was I talkin’ about?

[Death tips over. Fade to blackout.]

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The past is back to haunt them

September 3rd, 2008
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Kid Pirate

Kid Pirate stands in the attic bedroom of his loyal crew.

Ok, an Indian 7-11 attendant known as Dinesh the Dastardly and a parrot, known as Pretty Boy.

But there a crew nonetheless. YARRR… or something like that.

Dinesh is on his computer clicking away through the BOB website when he sees something, puts a hand over his mouth and looks up at Kid Pirate who seems bewildered at what Dinesh is doing.

Kid Pirate
So ye click on this here mouse that doesn’t squeak and it sail yer ‘puter on the World Wide Web that ain’t be made from spider’s arse?

Dinesh the Dastardly
Uh… yessir. That is right, sir. But sir, I have found something on the BOB website.

Kid Pirate
The website that no be made from spider arse?

Dinesh the Dastardly
Yes, sir. It’s about the BOB roster sir.

Kid Pirate looks at Dinesh and scratches his head with his hook.

Kid Pirate
Tell me, Dinesh… YARRR! Tell me who be this BOB you speak of.

Dinesh scratches his head and looks from the computer to Kid Pirate a few times before trying to explain.

Dinesh the Dastardly
Sir, you are a wrestler at the BOB sir.

Kid Pirate
YARRRR! I’ll rassle any land lovin’ blighter. Jus’ let me at ’em. I don’t care who this Bob feller is but I bet he’s a land lovin’ land lover! YARRRR!

Pretty Boy
Land lovin’ land lover! RAWK!

Kid Pirate
That’s roight, Pretty Boy. I’m the baddest pirate to sail the eight seas. I’ve raped, pillaged and caught trains without a ticket. I be fearless and frivalous. Frightenin’ and fierce. You mess with Kid Pirate it’s yer heart I’ll pierce! YAAAAAAAARRRRRR!

Dinesh looks at him bemused.

Dinesh the Dastardly
Eight seas, sir?

Kid Pirate
YARRRR! There be eight seas. I thought there was only seven but last night I gave yer mammy my Jolly Roger an’ fell into the eighth. It was loike throwin’ an elephant in an abyss it were. Loike drivin’ a Mack truck down a sink hole. Lucky fer me I was wearin’ me hook so I could claw my way out otherwise the dastardly rip tide in the eighth sea mighta taken Kid Pirate far, far away. I seen seventeen other men who never survoived and yer pappy says “ta take out the trash on Wednesday”.

Dinesh the Dastardly
Daddy?

Kid Pirate
YARRRR! Yer pappy. The postman says he didn’t get ta give you yer birthday cards but it be warm down there and he likes eatin’ the cheese.

Dinesh the Dastardly
But my birthday was eight months ago!

Kid Pirate
YARRRR! Happy Birthday fer eight months ago.

The pair stood in awkward silence for a while as Dinesh tried to get over the fact he missed out on birthday cards. Poor Dinesh. He’ll be ok. Just make sure you send them early this year, OK?

Kid Pirate scratches his arse with his hook as Dinesh remembers where they were up to on the script… er… where the conversation was headed. Phew. Saved it that time. Mental note: quit typing

Dinesh the Dastardly
Surely sir, you remember BOB? The wrestling federation?

Kid Pirate
Would that be the same BOB that took some gold from Kid Pirate’s treasure chest?

Dinesh the Dastardly
Yessir. That is the same BOB sir.

Kid Pirate
YAAAARRRR! I’ll murder the lot of ’em. How do I get to this BOB’s house?

Dinesh the Dastardly
You see, sir. You were in BOB, sir. But BOB has moved your “bio” on the website…

Kid Pirate
The web that neigh come out a spider’s arse?

Dinesh the Dastardly
Yessir. They moved your “bio” to “Past Superstar“.

Kid Pirate
They did what?

Dinesh the Dastardly
It appears sir, that your no longer a current BOB superstar.

Kid Pirate
YAAARRRR! I’ll murder the lot of ’em. I be slittin’ throats and makin’ the lot of ’em walk the plank. Dinesh, Pretty Boy… it’s time we paid BOB a wee visit! YAAARRRRRR!

And with that they all stood up and left the room, setting sail to find BOB and get Kid Pirate back on the active superstars list.

Only time would tell if BOB was ready for the return of Kid Pirate. And if this roleplay promo has anything to do with it… you’ll wish he stayed retired.

***YAWN***

Here’s a cock: 8====3

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Smack The Pony

August 7th, 2008
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Kevin the Pyromaniac

[Kevin The Pyromaniac is listening to loud music. He turns his head towards someone tapdancing. Kevin throws him a pogostick.]

Kevin: Don’t be greedy with it.

Phill: I’m too tired.

Kevin: Don’t make me yell at you!!

[Kevin takes off like a rocket and his head hits the ceiling. This is the point where cartoon birds should appear.]

Phill: I think you need to work on it a bit more.

Kevin: Fuck this shit.

[Kevin walks past a paper-mache head and tears a newspaper into pieces.]

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To Stephen Hawking

July 17th, 2008

View This Rant!

Stephen, let me apologize for my brazen attempt to steal your thunder. All I want to do is wheel you to the ring, cheer for you, be your valet. There is no other agenda, other than maybe to use my hot body to make a crippled man walk again.

Let me help you, let me be the one to give you your sponge bath, dress you, shave your back if need be. I can clip toe nails like nobody’s business. I can make spaghetti.

I can do all the things you need me to do, maybe even help you win a few matches. So, what do you say Steve? Don’t you think I’m pretty? Don’t you think I’m sexy? Come on baby, let me know.

If you want to corner the market on this, I’ll disappear just as quickly as I appeared. I really think we’re a match that blows E-Harmony away. We’re both very intelligent. We’re both easy on the eyes.

You’re in a wheelchair and I have a small nub that resembles a cockroach on my upper shoulder. Nobody can have it all, right? We can be perfectly imperfect together.

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You suck.

April 2nd, 2008
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Definitely the low-point of my career. Hah.

Duff

[The picture takes shape around Düff lying in bed, passed out. Next to him, a bottle of Jack Daniels sits upright somehow. It’s about half empty. A line of translucent drool rolls down his chin as he snores. The lights are low and the only thing illuminating the room is the gloomy dusk light shining through a crack in the window. You know how the old motto goes: sleep all day, out all night. Düff lives by that motto. Being single helps. Once in a blue moon, he has a girl in bed next to him. Normally their bed because frankly, he doesn’t need any stalkers. When he breathes in, all that spit accumulated in his gullet pulls back into his throat and he begins gagging. He sits upright and the bottle tips over, spilling all on the bed.]

Düff: Aw, maaan!

[He quickly picks up the bottle, sees there’s about a quarter of the stuff left. Enraged, he tosses it across the room and it shatters next to the window.]

Düff: Great. Just fuckin’ great. All that booze right down the drain. I guess it’s better than Kurt Angel’s career, though.

[He scratches his head.]

Düff: But who the hell is Kurt Angel?

[Düff thinks for a moment and shrugs before curling up on his cot and falling asleep again.]

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Tell me how much they fuckin’ suck.

March 15th, 2008

So this is my first attempt at any sort of comedy character, I realize it’s not too funny, but I didn’t really try too hard, just a kind of introduction of sorts. Have fun reading it!

Duff

[The picture fades in to see a fat man sitting on a tattered leather couch with his fingers buried in his pants. In his other hand, he holds a gold hued bottle of beer which, for copyright purposes, has had its label covered by a foam can holder. He takes a long gulp and belches from a place deep within his bowels. He coughs a little bit afterwards and picks up a cigarette that has burned halfway through because of neglect, much to his dismay. He takes what he can from it and stubs it out in the skull he uses as an ash tray. He lights up another one and it hangs from his lip, a la Eddie Monroe.]

Düff: You don’t know who I am, but I know where you live… erm… sorry, wrong introduction. But yeah, none of you fuckers know who I am just yet, or at least I will play it off as such because I like appearing mysterious and dark and br00tal. Though I guess telling the ten people watching this who I am wouldn’t be so bad. Hell, this tape probably won’t get farther than my camcorder, and if it does, it’ll probably because some stupid fucker decided to rob my house, found this tape, thought it was porn, and when he found out what it really was, he posted it on YouTube. I would know, that’s pretty much the story behind this tape. I dunno who Duff Côte d’Ivoire is, but that asshole is down one promo now.

[He takes a long puff from his cigarette, coughs a bit, and flicks the ashes in the tray.]

Düff: Anyways, I’m here, I’m queer, get used to it… SHIT! Wrong line again. That’s what I get for sitting here all day, watching re-runs of The Simpsons, Family Guy, and Robot Chicken while scarfing down handfuls of Doritos and drinking beer. The ideal habits for a pro wrestler? Probably not, but I don’t need to be totally trained and hone my skills for years just to be good. I’ve wrestled in back yards for years! That’s good enough, I would think. I have won countless titles in countless federations in countless matches! I say this because all the alcohol has kind of erased any memories of those matches and federations, but the titles in my trophy case are real!

[Camera pans over to said trophy case, which is basically a giant maple armoire painted black with the words “Indecent Exposure” carved all over it. Düff walks over to it and wings the door open, breaking it off of his hinges.]

Düff: Shit. Eh, easily replaced. Look at these belts, though! I am a former WWE World Champion… whatever the WWE is. I also won the TNA X-Division title under the name Jay Lethal! … Actually, I’m pretty sure these were just some things I bought while browsing eBay, drunk. But there’s still a whole bunch of other belts… hidden away behind the other door. I don’t want to blind you guys with the glare from all that gold, so I’ll spare you a look in there.

[He picks up the stray door and leans it up against the rest of the armoire and sighs, realizing the time this will take away from the Married… With Children marathon.]

Düff: What I’m trying to say is that I’m a force to be reckon with. I am the greatest superstar the world has ever seen! And when I finally show up at Brawlers On a Budget, I will show that I am truly the best in show! … Er, in the business!

[In all of his talking, that cigarette that hangs low from his lip falls out and burns his hand before rolling down his pants.]

Düff: AHHH! FUCK! SHIT! ASS!

[He gets up and dances around, trying to shake the tobacco from his shorts. The cigarette falls out and onto the couch, creating yet another warp in the already horribly beaten leather. He stomps the cigarette, breaking the couch in the process.]

Düff: AH BALLS! Well, I guess shit can’t get much worse here, can it? Look out, BooB! … Er… BoB! I’m coming soon to a theater near you! … Wait…

[Scene abruptly cuts to black.]

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