Posts Tagged ‘BOB’

The Royal Mis-Treatment.

September 16th, 2008
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[Axl is sitting in the middle of the couch, flipping through the channels of his new tv (now only a 15 incher. Michelle refused to pay a cent). Michelle walks in.]

Michelle: Axl, have you seen the card?

Axl: Yup.

Michelle: So, are you going to cut a promo regarding Luke Warm?


Axl: Yup.

Michelle: When?

Axl: Yup.

Michelle: … You’re not even listening to me, are you.

Axl: Yup.

Michelle: Dear sweet jesus w. christ… Forget it. I hope you get your ass stonecuttered!!!

Axl: Yup.

[Michelle is about to leave in a huff, when she looks through the window and sees Pigeon walking toward the dungeon, with two hands filled with to-go bags from McGreasyton’s.]

Michelle: … Axl, why is Pigeon walking toward, the dungeon, with two hands filled with to-go bags from McGreasyton’s? You don’t suppose Viruz didn’t chain Pigeon up properly, do you?

Axl: Yup.

Michelle: FAGGOT!!!

Axl: Yup.

Michelle: !!!

[Michelle turns back to the door, and this time DOES leave in a huff, as she slams the door behind her.]

Axl: YES! There we go, finally found something good. 24 hour Xena Warrior Princess marathon, here I come!

> > > meanwhile < < < Pigeon

[Pigeon walks into the dungeaon, arms carrying five or six paper bags of fast food.]

Pigeon: Alright, Mario, Tony, I’ve got the McSpaghetti and McRigatoni you fellas asked for… Rebecca, for you I’ve got the McSardinesAndSpinachBurger

Rebecca: EWWW! Ickie! I don’t want THAT!

Pigeon: Well, you didn’t specify what you wanted, so I just figured, what the hell.

Rebecca: I want something else!!! And NOW!!!

Pigeon: Well, let me put these bags down.

[Pigeon does so, before picking his nose for a good minute, and then lifting a golden nugget to Rebecca’s lips.]

Pigeon: There ya go, fresh from the bakery.

Rebecca: OH-MY-GOD! SICK! Get that away from me you sick freak!

Pigeon: As you wish.

[Pigeon devours the yellow morsel. He then picks up one bag, and pulls out a cherry pie.]

Pigeon: And snOw, I know how much you love pie, so, I got this for you.

snOw: Aww. Man, I’ve always been a poon-tang gal myself, but I guess cherry will have to do. Unless you’re willin’ to offer somethin’ up, Becky?!


Pigeon: Well, we better hurry up and scarf this shit. Axl might be down here soon, and although I’m not afraid… you guys are pretty much secod-rate sub-characters used soley for the purpose of interaction. I wouldn’t be surprised if he took off all four of your heads, just because he stubbed his toe or somethin’. You guys are pretty much Star Trek crew members in red shirts. Disposable like soiled diapers, ya know?

All Four: …

Pigeon: But hey, look at the bright side. You get to spend the last of your days in a filthy, dirty, disgusting dungeon surrounded by rats and roaches, until Axl has enough of you clowns and decides to slice your heads off for the hell of it.

All Four: …

Pigeon: So… dig in!

Mario Spaghetti: It’s-ah me! Ah Mari-

Tony Spaghetti: Dammit, I hope Axl whacks you first, so’s I can have atleast ten seconds of my life without hearin’ that fuckin’ line!

snOw: Becky, before we go, how’s about we bang the hell out of eachother? There’s no better way to go out than by tastin’ the sweet, sweet juices of Lady Pussy!

Rebecca: NEVER!!! … Unless you get me really, REALLY drunk first. Or stoned.

Pigeon: Quoth the Pigeon… Bi-chicks rule.

Rebecca: I am NOT bi!

snOw: Yeah. That’s what they ALL say. :p

Rebecca: AGGHHH!!!

> > > meanwhile < < < [Axl is still sitting in the middle of the couch, eyes on the tv. He has viewed the BoB news brief, stating the card, and his match with Luke Warm.] Axl: Son of a BITCH! Why I am a stuck with such a... such a... HACK?! This guy hasn't shown up on the rant zone in ages, ever since he ran those cheap "viral" videos, and now I'm stuck facing him in the curtain jerker! This is ludicrous! This is proposterous! This is an outrage! This... This is - Michelle: This is your brain. [Michelle shows a photo of a woman.] Michelle: This is your brain after watching an Axl promo. [Michelle shows a photo of the very same woman, appearing with her face drastically contorted, ala the people who watched the video in "The Ring".] Michelle: Any questions? [Axl turns to Michelle. Who is sitting next to him on the couch. ... Yup.] Axl: Michelle! You're the HEAD BOOKER! Why am I not in the main event?! Why am I atleast not in the middle card?! I'm not a jobber, dammit! Michelle: Are you a nugget? Axl: What? Michelle: Nevermind. The thing is, baby, you just don't... well, see, the people don't... Axl: ... Michelle: You don't draw money for BoB. Axl: But none of the guys on the roster draw money for BoB! Michelle: Yeah, but you're the only guy on the roster that actually makes BoB LOSE money! Besides XXXTreme Machine, anyway, but atleast he's willing to be torn apart, shredded, and jobbed to hell and back. You on the other hand? You call in sick to work if you get a BUMP on your toungue! And now you're complaining about being in the opening match! Axl, I hate to say it, but for fuck's sake, even I feel like firing you sometimes! Axl: ... But honey... Michelle: Seriously, Axl. You're like a male diva or something. In more ways than one... Axl: YOU TAKE THAT BACK!!! Michelle: Nah, you can keep it. Axl: Ugh... Michelle, I deserve better treatment than this! I'm a super-duper mega star! I'm a KING! I'm BoB's only Savior! Michelle: Then why don't you start acting like it, and stop bitching, moaning, whining, complaining, getting pissed off at the slightest little thing, and being a paranoid, schizophrenic, delusional, spoiled rotten BRAT?! Axl: ... Because... Cuz I don't wanna. Michelle: Oh brother... Axl: Hey! That just gave me a great idea! Hmm... they want to put me in a match against Luke Warm? Well then, I say fine! I'll just fight fire with fire! Michelle: What do you mean? ... Actually, why am I asking, I'm sure you'll explain to me for the next thirty or forty minutes... Axl: You're wrong for once, Michelle! I'm keeping my lips sealed! Michelle: Thank god for that... Axl: I've got to get in touch with my brother... there's some work to be done... [Axl lifts himself up off the couch and heads out through the door... leaving Michelle to the tv.] Michelle: Xena Warrior Princess? 24 hour MARATHON?! Goddamn, Axl's more of a chick than I am... Michelle: I wonder if there's any titty flicks on... |the|

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September 9th, 2008
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Jerri Li

[Jerri Li is sat on a stool in front of a mirror, putting on makeup. She dabs powder foundation onto her face with a 150 brush, small puffs being drawn up by the ceiling fan. She glues false eyelashes onto her lids and uses an eyelash curler on them. She paints her nails with white polish and rubs pink lipstick onto her lips. She takes a drag from a lit cigarette before putting it out in a glass of water.]

Jerri: Much better.

[The camera pans away, moving slowly across the brightly decorated pink bedroom, to a man in tighty whiteys tied to the bed.]

Jerri: I hope you had your eyes peeled during that.

[She cuts two apples in half with a knife.]

Jerri: I know it must be scary waking up after eleven hours of sleep, don’t worry, you’re not going to starve to death.

[She walks across to him, rips the duct tape from his lips and drops the apple segments into his mouth.]

Jerri: Let me introduce myself to you. My name is Jerri Li and I am a professional wrestler.

[The man laughs.]

Jerri: What’s so funny?

Man: Pro-wrestling?! That’s just people making it look like they’re hurting each other.

[Jerri digs her fingernails into his chest and pulls them down to his belly.]

Jerri: You’re the prisoner here, I’d watch your luck. As I was saying…

[She coughs.]

Jerri: Wrestling is only my day job, it’s a great occupation if you want to hurt people and be hurt back. For you see I am also a sadomasochist.

Man: Oh shit.

[She opens a closet door and pulls out a long, black leather whip.]

Jerri: You wont be leaving this room in a wheelchair or even a bodybag, you shit stained eyesore. Anyone trying to find you will need a fine tooth comb. But before you kick the bucket, baby, I’m going to age you considerably. You’ll have crow’s feet all over your greasefire of a forehead. I’ll pull your teeth out and show you all the things I can do with bamboo.

Man: Wait, wait… isn’t BOB supposed to be a parody promotion. I remember now, I’ve seen you on TV. How do you get away with it all?

Jerri: BOB let’s me do whatever I want for one reason.

[She slowly unbuttons her shirt and pulls her miniskirt down around her ankles, revealing a snakeskin bikini underneath. She takes a bottle of baby oil and rubs it all over herself. Despite his impending doom the man starts to become a little excited. Before we get to windmachines whipping through her hair level, Jerri dives on the man with a pair of scissors and the scene fades to black. The next morning she had Shredded Wheat for breakfast.]

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Welcome Fo Shizzle

July 9th, 2008
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The screen cuts open to a white man, with a grill, who starts rapping.

Man: Yo, this is fo sho, I like cats, look at you with your silly hats, you look retarded, hey look! I just farded, don’t call me retarded, I just farded, my name is Blackman White, and I came here for a fight, I am not gay, but hey, there’s nothing wrong with that, because I……. like………. CATS!

His posse: OHHH! Best Freestyle ever dude.

Blackman White: Shizzle. I wanna join BOB, because I can brawl on a budget. and then I eat from a fudge bucket, I am the best freestyler, not this kid named Tyler, why hate, just cuz no one appreciates? I wanna join the B..O…B…, I can’t wait to join, cuz I will make the haters not hate on me!

End of Rant.

OK, I am used to serious E-Feds, so tell me how this was.

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You suck.

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


[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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Channel Surfing

January 11th, 2004
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John Leary note: This originally was posted by “A Channel Surfer.” Who was me. Just a fun way to start hyping Sunday Morning Chloroform

[Several random channels flip by before pausing on “South Park.”]

Evil Woman: (Singing) There’s got to be a morning after…

Chef: (Singing) If we can hold on to the night…

[A shot of the horrified faces of Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Cartman.]

Chef: (Singing) We have a chance to find the sunshine…

[Fade to black.]

BigBOSSes voice: In 20004…no, make that 2003…I mean 2004! Gah! Can we re-edit that bit?

Voice: Sure.

BigBOSS: In 2003…DAMNIT!

Voice: Are you alright?

BigBOSS: I’m FINE! I just can’t type. My script is a mess.

Voice: What happened to it?

BigBOSS: Same old story. I’m just typing away and my wife just keeps nagging me. Women…

Voice: Yep. What’s that have to do with the script.

BigBOSS: Nothing, really. Say, are you going to finish that doughnut?

Voice: Umm…yes?

BigBOSS: You sound a bit unsure.

Voice: Do I?

BigBOSS: Yes. You do.

Voice: Why don’t you just explain what BOB is for all the viewers.

BigBOSS: Boobs.

Voice: BOB is Boobs?

BigBOSS: Say, that’s a good name for our new B-show!

Voice: B-show?

BigBOSS: You know, like Smackdown is Raw’s B-show.

Voice: I don’t think we’re supposed to mention the WWE.

BigBOSS: Nobody else is mentioning ‘em much these days either my friend. BOB is sweeping the nation! Next? The world! I hear we’ve got a strong showing in New Zealand already.

Voice: What about wrestling?

BigBOSS: What about it?

Voice: Well, the viewers are going to want to know a new wrestling program will be airing on Comedy Central.

BigBOSS: Sure, at 3 a.m. And there are no rules then, baby! Probably because everyone is asleep, or in an alcoholic coma.

Coma: Poink!

BOB. Are you ready to rumble?

February 2004.

Look out, WWE!

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New Year…time once again to get….hardcore!!!

January 8th, 2004

The Are You Out of Your Frickin' Mind Hardcore Title Belt

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New Year’s In Dimension Z

December 31st, 2003
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*We cut to Sir Zeno’s throne room, where an Ouroboros is hanging from the ceiling with a disco ball shoved in the center. The ruler of Dimension Z himself is sipping a martini while seated on a longer, leather-covered version of his couch-throne. Next to him is a blue-skinned, purple-eyed, and otherwise alien-but-still-human-looking woman in a long black dress. Various other bizarre entities mill around the room, occasionally making trips to a table of food and punch in the corner. Smiling, Sir Zeno finally looks into the camera.*

Sir Zeno: Good evening, creatures of Dimension E. I see that 2003 has finally pulled to a stop, and 2004 is just about to kick off. Amazing, isn’t it, that we’ve made it to this point? I am, of course, Sir Zeno, and this lovely lady is my friend and fellow monarch, Queen Mylisiv of Dimension G-4.

Queen Mylisiv: Thanks for inviting me, Zeno.

Sir Zeno: Anytime. The clock’s still ticking on 2003, but the party’s already started here in Dimension Z. And we have quite a show ahead of us! You see, at the stroke of midnight tonight, the Ouroboros that our dimension is balanced on will uncoil for exactly ten seconds!

Queen Mylisiv: But Zeno, won’t that destroy the dimension?

Sir Zeno: There will be a slight sense of inertia as we plummet, but it coils back up before any damage is dealt. In the end, the furniture may be slightly shaken, but otherwise nothing bad should happen. Besides, I daresay we’ll all be too drunk to care, don’t you?

*The laughter from the various creatures sounds slightly like Jason Voorhees being slammed by a truck while dismembering a live goose-pig.*

Sir Zeno: Gods, how I love your laugh, Mylisiv.

Queen Mylisiv: *She laughs again – she provided the goose-pig part earlier.*

Sir Zeno: Keep it up, dear. Now, not everybody could make it this year – Mr. Paradox is somewhere in Dimension E, Dr. Azathoth never RSVPed (and is missing, presumed stuck), Festering Death refused, and I never did receive a reply from Xamfir. Ah, well… Speaking of Mr. Paradox, I received a video card from him. Let’s watch.

*The screen cuts to Mr. Paradox riding in the back of an old pickup, his feet carefully rested atop his combat boots.*

Mr. Paradox: This is what I get for having a grudge, I guess. Either way, here I am, somewhere in Lousiana, getting a ride to New Orleans. Once I get there, who knows where I’ll go next? All I know is that somewhere in this country, I’ll find Studnuts… and then I can kill him for dishonoring me. Until that day comes, happy new year, Sir Zeno.

*The scene cuts back to the throne room, as the other guests mingle behind the throne. Daft Punk can be heard playing quietly in the background. Queen Mylisiv has rested her head on Sir Zeno’s shoulder, as he now sips a glass of vodka.*

Sir Zeno: Thank you, Mr. Paradox. I’m certain you’ll get revenge yet. Say, Mylisiv…

Queen Mylisiv: What, Zeno?

Sir Zeno: What’s your resolution for this year?

Queen Mylisiv: To finally take complete control of my family’s finances and to kill Ultimo Dragon. Yours?

Sir Zeno: To continue successfully ruling Dimension Z.

*Cut to Mr. Paradox, in a New Orleans bar.*

Mr. Paradox: To get my revenge and to score with that brunette with the low-cut dress and see-through bra.

*Cut to Nucleo, the Not-Quite-Living Robot, cleaning up after Slimelord Ugga.*


*Cut to a live feed from the Senate.*

Reporter: Senator Mudmick, what’s your New Year’s resolution?

Drunken Wisconsin Senator: Ummmm… Pershonally, I intend to shqueeze da poor!

*Cut back to the throne room, as the partygoers begin to don their pointy hats, and Mylisiv is now sucking on Sir Zeno’s neck.*

Sir Zeno: That was interesting, wasn’t it? Well, I’m afraid our timeslot has finally run out, so until next time, this is Sir Zeno, wishing you all the best of luck for 2004.

*The music turns up, Sir Zeno kisses Queen Mylisiv on the lips, and we fade to black. The preceding has been a Dimension Z Television production. All rights reserved.*

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Arrested Development

December 31st, 2003

~~~Wednesday, December 31, 2003. It’s 4:00 A.M. and we’re at Steve Studnuts’ Phoenix mansion. Steve’s brain is in a fog, having drank copious amounts of Buttery Nipples and Sex on the Beach, he now pleasures himself with whipped creamed covered nipples and sex on his leather sectional, and beside his pool, and in the kitchen, and on his futon, and anywhere else he could find with no less than seven women he picked up from “FLUIDS”. There’s a knock at his door, just as Steve’s about to fake another orgasm and move on to the next girl~~~

Studs: (hearing the knock) Wha? What time is it? Who the fuck is that?

~~~He mumbles incoherently, stands up and pulls on his silk boxers, then stumbles to the door.~~~

Studs: (just before pulling the door open) motherfuckercomingoverhereatgatdamnfourinthefuckingmorning… WHO IS IT?

~~~He opens the door and finds two policemen standing there~~~

Cop 1: Ummm, are you (squints at index card) are you (giggles) Steve Studnuts?

Studs: Yeah, I know. It’s my ring name. Okay? And before you even go there, everybody here is over 21 and consensual. Even the chick in the back that’s covered with barbeque sauce…

Cop 2: I don’t think you understand, sir. We’re investigating a murder.

Studs: Murder? Shit, I know I rode some of these bitches hard… but I doubt I killed any of ‘em.

Cop 1: You can cut the jokes, pal. We know you were at “FLUIDS” last night. We know there was a girl killed there last night. We know that we have the murder weapon with your fingerprints all over it and several witnesses have stated you danced on the body without a shred of remorse. You even tried to keep the paramedics from doing their job….

Studs: Hey now, hold on a fuckin’ minute. I only pulled the knife out to read the note stabbed into that chick’s body….

Cop 2: Note?

Studs: Yeah, a fuckin’ note. You know, paper with shit wrote all over it. A gatdamn note….

Cop 1: We didn’t find any note. I’m afraid we’re going to have to take you downtown for further questioning.

Studs: For what? I didn’t do anything… Wait up, it’s fuckin’ New Year’s Eve, dude! I got about two thousand people coming over tonight, it’s my biggest party of the year!

Cop 2: Looks like you’ll be spending it in Maricopa County’s finest facility… come on, now. Don’t fight us.

Studs: Whoa, whoa, whoa… Listen, go back to “FLUIDS”, dude. Check the trash cans, I crumpled the note and threw it on the floor. I swear! Hey, better yet… you guys have Internet?

Cop 1: Of course we do…

Studs: Then web-search Brawler’s on a fuckin’ Budget, dude, I wrestle there, okay? Go to forums and click on the one that says “Clubbin’ and Clobberin’” and read that motherfucker. It’s all right there, look at the responses! You don’t have to read the first one ‘cause it’s kinda long, but read the first response by that CircularAnswer dude. He does that Mr. Paradox character, man. Look at it, you’ll see the shadowy figure on the ceiling. You can read the note! It was Paradox, that jerkweed did it!

Cop 2: Likely story, sir. You have the right to remain…


Cop 1: We don’t currently have Internet access, Mr. Ummmm Studnuts. You know, that whole Millennium Bug thing, we’ve shut everything down…

Studs: WHAT? That was four fuckin’ years ago!

Cop 2: We’re backed up at the office, lot of crime in this city….

~~~They cuff him~~~


Cop 1: OooooooOOOOOh, and a threat to go with our other charges….


~~~The load him in the squad car and speed away. Meanwhile, Steve’s house gets looted by seven naked women.~~~

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Kevin’s Xtreme Adventure at the Hospital

December 28th, 2003
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[WARNING!: Before reading this, please realise that it makes no sense. But seeing as it is about a 13 year old who inhales the fumes of melting plastic every day I cannot see how it ever could.]

(The scene opens in the parking lot of a large building, ambulances are scattered around amidst people rushed around on stretchers chaotically. The camera moves forward for a while, bobbing up and down with each step, until a sign comes into view. ‘The Parts Unknown Professional Wrestling Hospital.’)

(Another scene opens, this time inside a small room with a bed as the focal point. On this bed lays a patient named Kevin. The charts all say that he is being treated, after Explosion of Injuries, for severe burns and a broken nose. As is tradition with the pro-wrestling hospital, his treatment consists of bandages being wrapped around his abdomen and a neck brace.)

Kevin: This is SOOO boring, they took my Mr. Box of Matches and Gary Gasoline off me and now I haven’t set anything on fire in DAYS!!!

(Kevin begins slamming the palm of his hand against a button, which either calls the nurse or shoots him fall of morphine. As a buxom lady in a skin tight PVC nurse’s uniform walks in Kevin’s jaw drops a little, the neck brace stops it from falling to full droop.)

Nurse: Time for a sponge bath Kevin baby?

Kevin: Ahhhhh, uhhhhhhhhhh…

(A young doctor runs in suddenly and grabs the nurse by the shoulders.)

Doctor: Dammit, the ratings in Mr. Kowalski’s rooms are hitting code blue, get down there and have a bikini contest! If the situation worsens get into a catfight and slip a nipple out… STAT!

(The nurse runs out, much to the disappointment of Kevin.)

Doctor: How ya doing Kevin?

Kevin: Well, I have a pain in my…


Kevin: Huh?

Doctor: The Doc says this, shut your roody poo CAANDY ass!

Kevin: Eh yo, isn’t that, like, gimmick infringement?

Doctor: Well, uh, hey! Aren’t you the kid who ripped off Mr. Intensity?

Kevin: NO! I am way more l33t than Mr. Intensity ever was.

Doctor: Who in the blue hell are YOU?!

Kevin: You have such a crappy gimmick.

Voice from outside the room: What?

Kevin: Oh no.

(Another doctor walks in, raising his arms at the four corners of the room before returning to the side of Kevin’s bed. The first doctor stares him down for a few minutes.)

The Doc: Who in the blue HELL are YOU?!?!!!

‘Stone Cold’ Steve Doctor: What?

Kevin: Look, could you two please…


Kevin: Well, if you let me finis…


(Steve Doctor puts his middle fingers up before snatching Kevin’s carton of grape juice and bursting it open, pouring it over his face in an attempt to get it in his mouth.)

Kevin: You guys really need to get some good gimmicks, yo.

SCSD: What?

Kevin: You can stop that for starters man.

(Suddenly a third doctor, man this room is going to get crowded, runs in with a steel chair and drives it into the back of The Doc. Before he can hit anyone else Steve Doctor hits him with a stunner, which he oversells right back out of the room.)

SCSD: You don’t mess with ‘Stone Cold’ Steve Doctor, what? I am the toughest S.O.B. in this hospital, and that’s the bottom liiine, because Stone Cold said so.

(Steve clicks a button on his walkman and his theme music plays, allowing him to walk off triumphantly.)

Kevin: This hospital is whack man.

(Kevin pulls off his neck brace and climbs out of his bed, tying up his backless hospital singlet before striding out into the corridor.)

The Doc: NO, you can’t walk around without your neck brace, your burns haven’t properly healed yet!

Kevin: I’m harrdk0R!!1 dammit, I don’t need no time to heal, I need PYROMANIA!!1

(The hallways of the pro-wrestling hospital were littered with bad gimmicks, but Kevin ploughed through. To speed things up we’ll skip ahead. Kevin finally got to a door with ‘wrestling props’ written on it in black marker, HIS props must be in there too. He walked inside.)

Kevin: Whoa…

(Like a glorious janitor’s closet, the props room was a spectacular sight. Kendo sticks, mannequin heads, hobbyhorses, socks… it was an impressive sight to behold. Our hero was quick to snatch up Mr. Box of Matches and Gary Gasoline… and a baseball bat too. He then hurried back out, still on his quest for the exit.)

Kevin: Man, I need some nu metal, pepsi and PyR0Mania!1 fast.

Voice: Hey, get out of that closet!

Kevin: Who the hell are you, jobber?

Doctor T: What did you just say? TELL me you didn’t just say that.

Kevin: Foley give me strength, you guys are all nutcases… now get out of my way so I can set something on fire!

Doctor T: Can you dig it SUCKAAA?!

Kevin: Can YOU?

Doctor T: Huh?

(Kevin hit him over the head with the baseball bat before continuing his charge through the corridors. There is footage of him running for a few minutes,. Not really doing much else, until he reaches the exit. He pushes the door open with an evil laugh.)

Kevin: Freedom, sweet hardK0re freedom!

Another voice from behind: Not so fast, Kevin!

(Kevin turns round and takes a lit match to the doctor’s uniform. Though his flame retardant suit is in plain sight, he goes up like a Christmas tree and rolls around on the parking lot floor.)


(Kevin takes his trust fuel and matches combo and gets to work on a nearby tree, soaking it thoroughly and expertly with Gary Gasoline.)


Third voice from behind: Hey, what are you doing there!?

(Kevin span round and cracked a baseball bat across the jobber-doctor’s head.)

Kevin: Jobber, you suck!

Jobber #2: Hey, what have you done to Jobber #1?

Kevin: This!

(Kevin snaps the bat over the second jobber-doctor’s head. Kevin is ready to hit more people with pre-cut balsa wood weapons when one of them spouts a catchphrase.)

The Doc: Who in the BLUE HELL are YOU?!

Kevin: You again? Ahhh for the love of Foley, what do you want?! This tree was just about to go up in flames!!!

The Doc: The Doc says this, you have to get your roody poo CAANDY ass back to your room, or you could hurt yourself.

Kevin: Duh, I’m a masokis… masercis… I can take pain dammit!

The Doc: The Doc says this, you come to this hospital, you run your mouth, you hit our jobber-doctors… you fail to realise you’re just a jobber round here too. So get back to your room and back in your neck brace before The Doc takes off his wristwatch, throws it to the crowd, runs across the ring and hits you with the Paediatrician’s Elbow!

Kevin: Screw you, I’m hardK0Rz!!1!`

The Doc: Well, ok, but you can’t have this magazine full of pictures of Nurse Heidi back if you don’t.

Kevin: Uhhhhhhhh Nuuuuuuurse Heiiiiiiiiiidiiiiiiii…. Ok.

(The Doc leads the horny pyromaniac back to his room and puts him back in his bed, his magazine stuffed underneath the mattress where it belongs. The Doc holds one more thing behind his back and raises the Paediatrician’s eyebrow.)

Kevin: What’s that you have behind your ba…

The Doc: IF YA SMEEEEEEEELLLAALALALAA… what The Doc… is… cookin’!!!

Kevin: Hospital food?

The Doc: Damn right.

(The Doc hands the tray of mushy crap to Kevin as the scene fades out to black.)

The End

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Gifts for Everyone!

December 27th, 2003
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Orbnotron Online
Broadcasting from some specific position in space and/or time…

(Fade up on Farmer Brown’s house. despite his having been severely bitten by zombies, he has still found the time to sit at home and watch Explosion of Injuries)

Farmer Brown: Unnngghhh… Arghhh… Brains…

Well, this isn’t very interesting. Since every single other character is incapacitated, I guess it falls to me, Orbotron, the Robot Cameraman, to do this promo. Yeah, that’ll really strike fear into the other wrestlers’ hearts…

Let’s see… What the heck could I do to entertain the folks in TV-Land? Uh… I know! I’ll look through the Doc’s mail!

(The Camera Dollies out into the hallway, where a number of presents are wrapped and ready to ship)

Oh, look, Dr. Azathoth bought presents for his fellow wrestlers, that’s sweet. I’ll just read the cards that go with each of them…

To: Sir Zeno

My dear friend, I was so sorry to hear about your sewage accident at EOI. Enclosed is some fine gourmet shampoo to wash the offal from your hair, as well as some wig powder in case it all burned off. As well, I have included a pink hair-ribbon made of finest bore-worm silk.

For your maidservant or walking organ bank or whatever he is, I got a gift that matches his name: A pair of socks. Don’t be disappointed though, these are my special uranium powered self-warming socks. Guaranteed to keep your feet warm for at least ten thousand years. They are also extra-wide to accommodate any extra toes you may grow.

FB: Unnngh… How… could… he write card…? He… disappeared… after… EOI…

Boy, even as a zombie that guy still asks annoying questions. Moving on…

To: Pete Table

Dear Sir; Your primitive rhyme schemes make me twinge. Enclosed is a copy of The Moron’s Guide to Sonnets. If these revolutionary ideas about verse don’t cause your puny brain to explode, you might want to give it a try.

To: Festering Death
My Daughter sent you something. Normally I would not approach you directly, but it is possible that a lifetime of receiving coal in your stockings is what made you into the violent morons you are today. Also, Atomo is still trying to get on your good side, so he insists that I deliver the goods. Anyway, here’s what she says:

Dearest Spaceduck,

I send you this tanto knife, forged by the hand of Masamune himself, as a token of my undying love. I hope you will think of me when you next use it to stab a Girl Scout in the face. As for your compatriot, What could I get for the smiley who has everything? The only thing that came to mind was the rotting corpse of that foul creature known as “Ziggy”. I hope you enjoy.

Yours eternally, Great Helga.

To: The iAd.

Gentleman, as I am already embroiled in a contest with Festering Death, I do not need any more unstoppable heels kicking Atomo or myself in the back of the head. Therefore, please except these gifts as a peace offering:

For Mr. Studnuts, I send this shriveled monkey’s paw I bought from an old Gypsy. There are many legends surrounding it, but half the fun is finding these things out for yourself!

For Mr. Harker, I send this Chinese puzzle box, sure to provide hours of mind-bending entertainment.

For Mr. Vincent, I send this potato peeler. What can I say, I choked.

Well, that’s it folks! Until Dr. Azathoth claws his way up from the depths of hell, this is Orbmotron saying-

End Transmission.

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