Archive

Posts Tagged ‘Kay Fabe’

October Surprise: The Curse of Kobe Gyant

November 10th, 2008
Comments Off on October Surprise: The Curse of Kobe Gyant

Kobe Gyant

Fade to black. Just that creepy song. Whoops. The lens cap is on. Ah, there we go. Fade in on a shadowy figure walking toward a chair that’s set up across from a huge 150-inch plasma television screen showing “The Curse of Michael Myers”. Does that shadowy figure have…a knife? He’s definitely holding something in his hand. LOOK OUT KOBE!

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Damn, I hate this movie.

The figure raises the “weapon” quickly.

<--Mike "The Monotone" Monroe-->

Hi Kobe.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Mike? You tryin’ to give a brotha a heart attack? How did you get past the moat, the alligators, the dogs, the barbed wire fence, the land mines, the eye scanner, and those guys who were too crazy to work for Blackwater USA?

<--Mike "The Monotone" Monroe-->

I came around back.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Damn, forgot about the back. What you want, Mike?

<--Mike "The Monotone" Monroe-->

I was just wondering what your thoughts were after being victorious at October Surprise and being undefeated here in Brawlers on a Budget?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

How can a Gyant get any bigger? I don’t know but I’m a freak of nature. I’m so big after October Surprise that tomorrow I’ve got an audition for a TV commercial. So keep an eye out for Kobe Gyant starring as Snoop Doggy Dogg in “Mic Villain.” Na mean?

<--Mike "The Monotone" Monroe-->

“Mic Villian”?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

It’s like “Guitar Hero”, but you rap instead. They better not dress me up like Tom Cruise and have me dance around like an Axl or I’ll poke someone’s eye out, you know? This movie is stupid. If I was Michael Myers I’d be stabbing women with my penis, not a knife. What fun is that? If I was in Star Wars, I wouldn’t even NEED a light saber, son. I’d be Kobe Wan Nablowme.

<--Mike "The Monotone" Monroe-->

But enough about your genitalia. Were you trying to make a statement at October Surprise?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

About wantin’ to give Kay Fabe a Gyant orgasm? Nah, man. I’m down whenever she’s down. On her knees or her back or my face, whatever she wants to do. If Kay wants the best 24 hours of her life, all she has to do is come knocking. Then I’ll knock her til she comes and comes again.

<--Mike "The Monotone" Monroe-->

So, what’s next for Kobe Gyant?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Well, as everybody knows, I temporarily suspended my bid to become ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS. However, I’m restarting my campaign now that I’ve destroyed the 4 Steelchairs and Va-Jay-Jay Dillon in Snore Games and plan to take the next step at MegaBrawl II. But before we talk about that, you know, there was some other guy running around the Rant Zone, acting like he’s oppressed here in BOB and finding inspiration from Barack Obama, or B-Ob as I call him. Mike, is Axl black?

<--Mike "The Monotone" Monroe-->

Based on what Michelle’s told me, that would be a definite “no.”

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Well that’s just a case of the white devils stealing black culture once again. You can’t have Obama whitey. Some day Axl you’ll pay for your gay homo love of Obama. I got three words for Axl: No. You. Can’t. You’re already a hasbeen. You should be wrestling in the T&A division, son. Or at least the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual Transgender Hardcore division I heard they might be starting. You think you’ve been held back? My people haven’t held the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS in 400 years, son!

<--Mike "The Monotone" Monroe-->

Actually douja was black and he won the OWTTM in 2001.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Aww, hell. Really? Shoot. Alright. Uhh. You think you’ve been held back? My people haven’t held the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS in like 7 years son! Being black is like being the Chicago Cubs every day of your life. Oh wait I guess you’d know what that’s like since you’re such a loser. Axl: the Detroit Lions of BOB.

Axl, Kobe Gyant is plasma. You’re one of those black and white analog TVs that’s gonna become a dinosaur on Feb 17 when stations go to digital. You’re a cassette tape, I’m a MP3, son. I’m a Mac.

<--Mike "The Monotone" Monroe-->

And I’m a PC.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Anyway…Axl, call me on your rotary phone when you be main eventin’. I’ll be sure to check my iPhone for your message. There are rumors about Kobe Gyant getting into a number one contenders match at MegaBrawl 2. I can’t wait to show the world on the biggest stage that The BOB can afford that Kobe Gyant is the future of this company. Now get outta my house, Mike! I’ve got things to do, women to screw, paternity tests to take, money to make. Hit the concrete.

rant , , , , , , ,

Petite Slayer Rendition Uno

August 26th, 2008
Comments Off on Petite Slayer Rendition Uno

Sarah The Jobber Slayer

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

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

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

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

Sarah: Um-kay.

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

Kay Fabe

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

[Dead silence.]

Sarah: How are you feeling, Kay?

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

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

[Second Cousin of the First Evil, remember?]

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

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

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

Kay: Zuh?

Sarah: He’s a writer for SmackDown.

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

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

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

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

Kay: Who, Josh G?

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

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

Josh G: Umm…Sarah?

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

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

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

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

Kay: Oh, baby!

[Um, what’s in the bag?]

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

[Right…but what’s in the bag?]

Kay: … Stuff.

Sarah: It’s some hair, OK?

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

Sarah: Well, I haven’t…

[…But that would mean…SEXY!]

Sarah: Sexy? Brought it back.

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

Sarah: Ditto. Well, I’m outie. Bye.

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

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

rant , , , , , , , , ,

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Evil-Lution.

August 23rd, 2008

Axl

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

Axl: … Michelle?

Michelle: *snoring… loudly*

Axl: …

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

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

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

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

Axl: … Uhhh…

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

Axl: … Uhh…

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

Axl: Dammit!

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

Axl: There we go!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michelle: …

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

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

Axl:

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

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

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

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

Michelle: You bet what did?!

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

Michelle: Ohhh, ok. … Wait…

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

Michelle: AXLLL!!!

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

Michelle: Ohhh, ok! …

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

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

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

Axl: BUT…!

Michelle: CUT!!!

rant , , , , ,

Return.

August 16th, 2008

Axl

> > > The Castle Court Yard < < < [A ring is set up... or more like, four poles driven into the ground with tattered rope tied around each, and a blue tarp layed down in the center. It seems as though, even with all the changes Axl has been trying to make, he can't escape the desire to put on rigged matches simply to put himself over. Some things never change...] Michelle

Michelle: Ladies and gentlemen!

[The camera shows that there are six or seven chairs set up. Six or Seven EMPTY chairs…]

Michelle: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and is for the “Hierarchy King of Kings Championship” !!! Introducing first, he is the leader of the Hierarchy… he is the King of Sinister City… and he is the CHAMP! King… Axxxlll!!!

Speakers: Kill me with a beat.

[“Do You Call My Name” hits on an invisible stereo, and the newly installed drawbridge lowers down across the newly created moat. Of course, the “drawbridge” is merely the same old door the “castle” originally had, only with new mechanisms attached to allow for it to move downward, instead of to the side. And the “moat” couldn’t be any more than a foot deep, and 2 or 3 feet wide… Gee, Axl really went all out, didn’t he?]

[Axl walks across the “drawbridge”… which promptly breaks apart, sending Axl dropping onto his hands and knees in the shallow “moat”, causing his nice… torn and shredded jeans and king’s robe to become slightly soaked.]

Axl: GODDAMIT! Fuck! That’s it, this moat is GONE!!! Sir Richard! Replace this door at once, and have it swing from the SIDE, not downward! Got that?!

Sir Richard: Ci.

Axl: You’re damn right Ci… To shining Ci, mother fucker! Ugh, I just had my personal designer shred these pants! Now they’re all wet! Yuck! Well, no matter, I’ll just have him buy me and shred me another pair. These damn things are too tight on me anyhow…

Michelle: You better not be gaining any more weight! I’ve been sure to hide all the junk food lately… I’ve noticed that extra pound you put on!

Axl: Aw cram it, it’s not like you haven’t added a pound or two to that “slim figure” of yours! Sir Richard, get me the hell out of this muck! I’ll be damned if I stand up by myself!

Sir Richard: Ci…

[Sir Richard, Knight of the Hierarchy, lifts Axl from the moat, and the King heads toward the makeshift ring. He pulls a title belt out from its place attached to the inside of his robe… A belt made of cardboard, with hastily drawn words which pronounce it the “Hierarchy King of Kings” title. You’d think with how many belts Axl’s made for himself, he’d have gotten atleast a bit better at it by now but… not the case, apparently.]

[Axl places his robe and crown on the outside of the “ring”, as Michelle begins to announce the challenger…]

Michelle: And his opponent… hailing from Samich, Connecticut… he is the former We Win Everything champion… He was the leader of the sWo, when that guy Reeve Gordon was away filming ‘Santa With Muscles 2: Tables, Ladders, and Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire’… he is the MANG-ah, and he’s just that… damn… Jawesome. Ladies and gentlemen…

[Camera pans over the six or seven empty chairs once again… you’d think Axl would have had a few of his “faithful” citizens view the match… and if they decline, he could always use some more warm bodies in the dungeon…]

Michelle: … This… is… Tripleeeee S!!!

[“It’s Time to Play So Lame” by Some Generic “Alternative” Rock Band hits, and the crowd goes monkey… well, atleast, the sounds of a crowd bleeds over the song on whatever imaginary stereo Axl has provided for the event. Triple S walks to the “moat” from within the castle, and hops over the wrecked “drawbridge”. Trips has been off touring Japan’s high school gymnasiums and bingo halls ever since his departure from BoB. But now, he’s back… well, back for one night to do the quick j.o.b. to MacBry’s new head character.]

Michelle: HEY! I’ll sooo have Kay Fabe knock the crap out of you!

[Sorry, sorry… sheesh. Trips walks over to the ring, stands at the ropes, sips from a bottle of tap water, before spitting it out… mainly because, let’s face it, tap water tastes like shit.]

[Trips gets into the ring and grabs a microphone from out of thin air, and as Axl yawns, Trips speaks…]

Triple S: God it’s been a long time… Ya know, I’ve been over in Japan for the past FOUR years… and lemme tell you, their crappy wrestling venues are alot worse than our crappy wrestling venues! It’s good to be back here in America, where an injury-prone, self-absorbed, narcissistic, sledge-hammer wielding roid-head gets the respect he so richly deserves! I’ve been away from BoB for far too long… the camera misses me. And having a BoB camera here, right before my very eyes, takes me back to that second episode of WWE… where Vince Mackmin and I layed down the gauntlet for not only the We Win Everything roster, but all those Brawlers in the lockeroom. We were destined to lead the sWo to the very TOP of the business… it was nearly set in stone. But then? That stupid son of a bitch BigBOSS had to let us go.

Triple S: Biggest mistake of his life.

Triple S: I’ve always been destined for greatness, and –

[Axl rips the microphone out of Trips’ hand, and speaks into it.]

Axl: Trips! The only man in BoB that gets to spend an hour talking is ME, so get that through your friggin’ skull right now. Now, the only reason, and I mean the only reason you’re here is to do the job to me, so get to jobbin’!

[Axl drops the microphone, Michelle signals for the bell [which, like the stereo, is also invisible…], and the Queen takes the position of referee. Axl kicks Trips in the gut, he doubles over, and Axl loads the Mang-ah up for the Evil-Lution Bomb… but wait, Triple S actually backbody drops Axl onto the tarp? With Axl holding his back in pain, Trips grabs the mic…]

Triple S: I don’t do the job for anybody, CHUMP. I have others do the job for ME, got that pal? Now, Michelle, sweetie, get that hand ready. You’re about to count the fall.

[Triple S pulls Axl off the tarp, loads him up, and drops him with the Peticure! He then goes for the cover, and Michelle reluctantly counts the pin…]

Michelle: I can’t believe this… Your winner and new “Hierarchy King of Kings” champ… Triple S?

[Michelle holds the belt, and Trips grabs it out of her hands… Before picking up the microphone.]

Triple S: [Trips lowers himself above Axl, who is coughing and wheezing vehemently] Axl… you think you can just push around everyone you meet? Your “knights”, your citizens… the BoB roster, even the BoB commentator’s for pete’s sake? Well, buddy boy, it’s time you had a little taste of your own medicine. It’s time someone showed you how it feels to be kicked in the ass for doing nothing more than look at you. Ya see… I didn’t get this belt for myself. Even though I love the idea of being champion, as anyone probably does, there’s only one man that deserves this particular belt. Simply because you held it just to boost your own ego.

Triple S: Quoth the Mang-ah… Game On.

[Trips slings the belt over his shoulder, and heads toward the gates of the castle, where Sir Lancelot stands guard. He tries to put up a brave front, but with one menacing glare from the current “King of Kings” champ, the Good Sir gingerly backs down, and allows for the Mang-ah to pass through and out into the city… no telling where he could be headed…]

|to be continued|

rant , , , , , , , ,

One Of Those Girls

February 15th, 2008
Comments Off on One Of Those Girls

Trey Vincent

[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

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.]

rant , , , , , , , ,

If I Gave It All Away For One Thing

November 27th, 2007

Kay Fabe

[“One Thing” by Finger Eleven begins playing. We see a shot of Kay Fabe hanging from a tree in a skimpy swimsuit. Then a picture of Kay Fabe’s fourth grade Cloudydale class picture, with her circled. Aw, how cute she was back then. Then we see her in her awkward, nerdy high school pic (Cloudydale, Class of 1996!). Then a shot of her bent over a chair? Yowza. Then a picture of her lifting bananas, as if they were weights. Then Kay dressed up as Mistress of Pain in some sort of love dungeon. Cut to a shot of Kay Fabe straddling the top turnbuckle and, uh, rather enjoying herself. Cut to a shot of Kay sitting in an empty BOB ballroom.]

“Restless tonight”

[A close up of Kay staring at the camera all serious and sexy.]

“Cause I wasted the light”

[A close up of Kay’s hands flexing as if they’re about to grab boobs.]

“Between both these times”

[A shot of Kay in an empty ring.]

“I drew a really thin line”

[A shot of Kay looking up at the ceiling and then, not, as Kamikazie Ken falls down from the rafters.]

“If I traded it all”

[Shot of a nerdy, younger Kay in an Ani DiFranco T-shirt.]

“If I gave it all away for one thing”

[A shot of Kay not wearing a shirt…sadly, from behind. Then a clip of Kay jumping rope. Then a shot of her hitting the Kay’s Bottom on somebody.]

“Just for one thing”

[Kay holding up the Chimichanga Title. Clip of Kay looking at her boobies.]

“If I sorted it out”

[Shots of Kay hitting a Kay’s Bottom on somebody.]

“If I knew all about this one thing”

[Shots of Kay walking out at an SMC.]

“Wouldn’t that be something”

[Shots of Kay walking out at a different SMC. Then clips of her playing with her juggies.]

“I promise I might”

[Clips of Kay surrounded by candles at Massively Cool.]

“Not walk on by”

[Clips of Kay hitting Great Tiny with a German suplex.]

“Maybe next time”

[Clips of Kay hitting XXXtreme Machine with a German suplex.]

“But not this time”

[Clip of Kay hitting Massive Man Rendition First with a German suplex. Clip of Kay Fabe locking in the Wiccan Crossface on MMR1 at November In Nowhere.]

KF: I’ve heard it all. You’ll never win the big one. You’ll never be able to come back from hell and compete in a low budget federation for a secondary title while possessing a redheaded Wiccan’s body.

NH: Look! She just grabbed the Swiss Army Belt. Is she…



Styles: She’s stuffing the Swiss Army Belt down her…tights?



NH: And look at that evil, gap-toothed smile!



SW: C-c-c-an I g-g-g-get in those t-i-t-t-i–t-ights?



KF: Hey, Massive Man? You want this title back? You’ll have to face me. The greatest technical wrestler possessing the body of a redheaded woman today! Get ready for some toothless aggression!



Styles: Oh dear lord.



KF: At MegaBrawl, that’s what it’s all aboot! Eh?



Styles: Massive Man vs. Kay Fabe?


KF: A lot of critics said never. I proved them wrong.

[Various clips are repeated. Then we have shots of Kay Fabe locking in the Wiccan Crossface on Massive Man again.]

Caption: MEGABRAWL, Dec. 15, 2007.

Styles: Kay Fabe ripping and tearing. It’s over! Kay Fabe’s five-year odyssey has culminated by winning the Swiss Army Belt at MEGABRAWL!

[A shot of Kay Fabe holding up the stolen Swiss Army Belt.]

“If I traded it all”

[A shot of Kay Fabe trying to hug some random kid.]

“If I gave it all away for one thing”

[Another shot of Kay Fabe hugging a random kid. Pan out to reveal she’s at a mall. Santa Claus chases her off with a candy cane.]

“Wouldn’t that be something.”

[A shot of Kay Fabe hugging Sarah “The Jobber Slayer” in a naughty way from various angles with a night vision camera. Then a shot of Kay Fabe looking up at the heavens. Then a shot of Kay Fabe holding up the Swiss Army Belt in celebration once again. Fade to black as the song fades out.]

[Fade up to a shot of Massive Man on the screen.]

Caption: In Memory Of Massive Man’s Swiss Army Belt Reign
September – December 2007

rant , , , , , , , ,

A Sight For Horny Eyes…

August 30th, 2007
Comments Off on A Sight For Horny Eyes…

Kay Fabe

[Inside Room 429, Trey Vincent is flipping through channels on the hospital television.]

Trey Vincent: Hold on. Trey Vincent’s been in a coma since 2006, and somehow “Big Brother” is STILL on TV? People in this country are retarded.

Kay Fabe: Well, well, well.

Trey Vincent

TV: Kay Fabe? Boy are YOU a sight for horny eyes!

KF: Easy, big fella. Seth’s parking the car.

TV: Seth’s here? Sweet!

KF: Yeah, he probably won’t make it into this Rant though.

TV: We’re ranting?

[Trey looks over and sees the camera.]

TV: The FUCK? For an unorganized low budget sports entertainment federation, these camera dudes always end up just in time for me to post something to the Rant Zone.

KF: Actually…they’re here for me.

TV: You?

KF: Yeah. See…you actually don’t work for a low budget unorganized sports entertainment federation.

TV: BOB finally went out of business? It’s about time! Trey Vincent knew BOB couldn’t survive without Trey Vincent’s charisma and brains. So, what promotion you in now, honey?

KF: BOB.

TV: … Didn’t you just say BOB went out of business without Trey Vincent’s creative genius steering the ship to the promised land of Comedy Central?

KF: Well, there’s a lot we need to catch you up on.

TV: Are you sure Trey Vincent can’t just throw you over the bed and have Trey Vincent’s way with you? Trey Vincent’s been in a coma for a year. It won’t last long.

KF: Trey!

TV: What? Sorry! Geez. You’re fucking hot, honey.

KF: BOB is still in business.

TV: Okay…

KF: BOB is NOT on Comedy Central.

TV: BWAHAHAHAHA! Trey Vincent KNEW it! Even in Trey Vincent’s coma, Trey Vincent swears Trey Vincent somehow knew that BOB was going to blow it. Alright…what else?

KF: You don’t work for BOB. Your contract…well…you couldn’t sign one because you were in a coma.

TV: Contract? BigBOSS got people to sign CONTRACTS? Legal documents?

KF: Yeah, go fig. Anyway…also, Steve and Seth lost their jobs as well. They were attacked by some masked guys with waffle makers. They were unable to fulfill their contracts due to injuries, so BigBOSS found some loophole and fired them. And Atomo. And Sarah.

TV: … Jobber Slaying Sarah? SHE GOT FIRED? Whoops. Sorry about the yelling. Stupid caps lock.

KF: Trey!

TV: Gotcha! There couldn’t be a caps lock because this is all real. *Wink*

KF: STOP THAT!

TV: Kay, your caps lock is on! BWAHAHAHA!

[Kay grabs him by the balls.]

TV: Ipe!

KF: Sports entertainment IS real.

TV: Yes…ma’am…oooooohyeahhhh!

KF: Ewwww! You just splooged all over my hand.

[Kay runs to the bathroom and starts washing off her hands in the sink.]

TV: Told you it wouldn’t take long!

KF: I would so sue you if you had any money.

TV: What do you mean IF Trey Vincent had any money? Trey Vincent is LOADED. Where is Seth? Is he parking in slow motion again? Fuckin’ cruiserweight.

KF: Probably. But Trey…you aren’t loaded anymore. Your ex-wife cleaned you out.

TV: Ex-wife? Whoa whoa whoa whoa WHOA! Nurse Heidi divorced me?

KF: You weren’t married to Nurse Heidi. You were married to Michelle.

TV: Huh? Trey Vincent could have SWORN Trey Vincent was married to Nurse Heidi. She was getting awfully intimate with that loofa.

KF: I think that was one of the nurses in this hospital.

TV: Trey Vincent’ll probably be picking bits of sponge out of Trey Vincent’s sphincter for the next year.

KF: Again…ewww.

[Kay returns to bedside.]

TV: So…Michelle divorced Trey Vincent while Trey Vincent was in a coma. She get all Trey Vincent’s money?

KF: I think so. Plus…well…there are hospital bills. You’ll probably be in debt for the rest of your life.

TV: Shit. She got Trey Vincent’s penthouse. Trey Vincent’s Jeep? Trey Vincent’s BOOZE? That isn’t right, Kay.

KF: I know.

[A nurse walks into the room.]

Nurse: Just need to check in on my favorite patient.

TV: Missing any sponges?

Nurse: Pardon?

TV: Nothing, honey.

[She starts checking Trey’s pulse. Trey’s eyes roll back into his head, but nobody seems to notice. Once she lets go, Trey returns to normal.]

TV: Oh, nurse. That guy who got your pregnant…Ken Rosenberg…and then said he got kidnapped by the Bush administration is actually living in Carcer City. Oh…I think little Bobby’s first tooth just popped up. Isn’t that special.

Nurse: Uh…what?

TV: Huh?

Nurse: My god, how did you know all that?

TV: Know what?

Nurse: I’ve got to call my lawyer. Thanks, Trey. I love you!

[She kisses him on the lips and then starts running out of the room.]

TV: Trey Vincent loves you, too! Come back later and PROPERLY THANK ME!

KF: What was THAT?

TV: Dunno. So…shit. Look at Trey Vincent, Kay. Trey Vincent is half the man he used to be. Can you do Trey Vincent a favor? Somewhere in Trey Vincent’s belongings is a little black book. Trey Vincent need you to look under “A” and find a listing for my doctor…Dr. Astin. Trey Vincent needs to get back in shape.

KF: Oh, Trey, there’s one last thing I meant to tell you…

rant , , , , , , , , ,

Home truths from a guy in a purple neckbrace

October 18th, 2005
Comments Off on Home truths from a guy in a purple neckbrace

Rubba Ray Drudley

[We open this promo in a generic locker room, because I have no imagination. Sat on a bench, with his glasses steamed up, is Rubba Ray Drudley. He is looking at a glossy Kay Fabe poster which has her pointing her derriere at the camera (he probably picked it up at the Crap Zone or something… maybe you should go there too and spend some money). He reaches his hand out to touch the printed ass and caress the paper.]

RRD: So close…

D-Van Drudley

[All of a sudden D-Van barges into the room dragging a table along behind him.]

D-Van: Hey, what the hell are you doing?!

RRD: NOTHING!

[Rubba quickly stuffs the poster into his pocket and folds his arms over his lap.]

RRD: What are you doing with that table?

D-Van: Didn’t you see what that purple tights wearin’ fruit Sir Zeno did to me on Sunday?

RRD: No, I don’t watch your matches if I’m not in them.

D-Van: That bitch knocked me unconcious, I had to go to the hospital.

RRD: Dude, a black guy getting knocked out by a white guy in a boxing match is totally pathetic.

Voice: Well, well, well.

(A chubby guy with a neckbrace and an exposed, hairy chest enters the Drudley locker room.)

Joel Bertner: It is I, the quintessential studcrumpet, the footlong hotdog between your girl’s buns, she took one bite and had mustard all over her face, Joel Bertner.

RRD: What do YOU want?

JB: I got those Kay Fabe pictures you wanted.

D-Van: Don’t you have enough of those already, you’d probably get in trouble if the wrong people found out how many of them you have.

RRD: No I wouldn’t, I have plenty of other pictures too, I’m not obsessed or anything.

[One of the locker doors bursts open with a wave of pictures of the red headed sports entertainer.]

RRD: They’re not mine!

JB: Whatever. Anyway, what’s the table for D-Van?

D-Van: Don’t any of you motherfuckers watch my matches?

JB: Actually I did, I was bored and drunk. Sir Zeno is way more over than you and an actual champion, you’re just a goofy parody that’s a few beers away from a Reverend D-Van gimmick.

D-Van: What?

JB: Nothing, I’m just trying to convince you to focus on more important things. You’re on the road to Grudge Match A-Go-Go… you could win the NGETFA tag titles and you just sit around drinking beer and looking at pictures of Kay Fabe.

D-Van: You know, you’re right. We should be training.

RRD: TYKE!

[Small Tyke Drudley convulses his way through the door.]

RRD: We need to start training and need you to practice putting people through tables. D-VAN… GET THE…

D-Van: I already set it up.

RRD: Ok, let’s get started.

[We fade out with splinters flying at the camera as Tyke is thrown through the first of many tables.]

rant , , , , , , ,

Back in the gatdamn saddle (again)

April 9th, 2005

Steve Studnuts

~~~Steve Studnut’s handler, after taking the time to actually read cards and figure out which is which, has some ‘splaining to do. So does Steve, since Connie hinted that Steve was trying to bed Sarah “the Jobber Slayer”, whom EVERYBODY knows Steve’s good buddy, Trey Vincent, would also like to lay the pipe to. Let’s see if Steve can wiggle his way out of this one~~~

Studs: [holding his flip cell] Come on, dude, answer the gatdamn phone. You know I was just goofin’ around. Hell, who wouldn’t like to bone Sarah? Come on ,Trey. Hello?

[Connie walks in, ironically wearing the same thing she had on earlier today. With her is Jizzabelle Cummings, the Shannon Elizabeth and Reese Witherspoon looking tramp that wears even less than Connie and hangs around in Steve’s house.]

Connie: What are you doing, Steve? Trying to smooth things over with Trey?

Studs: Huh? There’s nothin’ to smooth over. I never wanted to bang Sarah. That was YOU assuming shit again. Trying to stir up some shit and hope the smell gets delivered so I get in trouble. Say, did you guys see me beat up Zeno’s bitch? Cool, huh?

Jizz: (sighs) Yeah, real cool, Steve. You’re such a man.

Studs: Hey, she got in the ring…

Connie: So, Steve, what’d Trey say about you calling Sarah “one of those bitches”? And Seth, too. I bet he’s pissed.

Studs: Nah, they know I didn’t mean anythin’ by it. That’s just me bein’ me. I call all women bitches. It’s not personal. Except Zeno’s bitch. And that Bride chick, now she’s a bitch. And Oprah, she’s an overpaid bitch, sittin’-on-a-fuckin’-couch-and-talkin’-to-people overpaid bitch. But I wouldn’t mind pluggin’ that sidekick of hers, Lisa Ling. I could call her Lisa Lingus, ya dig? And she could join you two bitches in my house and spend all my money like you do…

Connie: Don’t try to change the subject, Steve. You’re in some hot water with your iAd buddies, aren’t you? At least you will be when they see your last promo.

Studs: Nope. This one will clear it all up since they know my typing boy is a lame and pitiful wretch that has a bad habit of just writing shit before he pays any attention to storylines and events. Kay Fabe is wonderful gal and Seth and her make an awesome couple. Trey and Sarah are perfect for each other and I honestly think they should get married. Then Trey could knock Sarah up and then she could squeeze out some fuckin’ kick ass future sports entertainers without equal.
Can you imagine that gene pool? Trey and Sarah? Those kids would be fuckin’ unbeatable. That’s a fact.

Jizz: Okay, Steve, you’ve kissed enough ass for one promo….

Studs: You think? Just in case, I think the rug rats Trey and Sarah would produce would be better than the ones Goldberg and Lesnar would have if they fucked each other and Goldberg shitted a kid out. Really, I’m being honest.

Connie: You’re such a suck-up…

Studs: Perhaps, but all that’s tomorrow’s news.

Jizz: You mean yesterday’s?

Studs: Nah, that was about that pope guy. I want to talk about that little fucker with the permanent toe jam. Ya know, it really pays off to follow the shows. How dare that scrub call me out. I’m Steve Studnuts, and he’s not even close… but I know he wishes he could be. So for him to even fuckin’ LOOK at me is an insult. On second though, I’ve decided to keep this YGBKMIADT/AYOOYFM title, and if I ain’t got nothin’ else to do at SUM: ON MY HARD DICK P-P-V, I want that fuckin’ MMR1 guy in whatever hardcore shit this promotion can come up with. Then when I’m finished with that jerkweed…. they’re gonna have to come up with a second rendition for him.

And that…. IS … A …. FACT!

Cut to static, you keyboard striking fucker. I’m outta here.

~~~Cut to static…again~~~

rant , , , , , , , , , ,

Back in the gatdamn saddle

April 8th, 2005

Steve Studnuts

~~~Phoenix, Az. It’s hot already and it’s only April. It’s gonna get hotter. And so is BOB. It’s gonna get hotter ’cause the iAd is full strength once again. Don’t believe me, read….. er, watch SMC 18. Speaking of hot, Connie Lingus just walked into view… wearing just enough clothing to cover her fun buttons and “runway” trimmed snappy whisker biscuit. The Cindy Crawford, Angie Everhart, Tara Reid, and some other chick I forgot et all looking broad approaches Steve Studnuts who is sitting on a long, black leather sectional flipping through the channels of his SUPER WIDE PLASMA SCREEN. Steve’s casual today, wearing yellow silk boxers and some flip flops. The AYOOYFM/YGBCIADT lay beside him in a heap. Connie questions Steve’s antics as we join in~~~

Connie: Can I start now?

Studs: Didn’t you read the fuckin’ set-up? I know most people don’t but at least the people IN it should. Take it away, honey.

Connie: Steve, what are you doing?

Studs: Funny you should ask…

Connie: Are you going to tell me?

Studs: Are you fixin’ my turkey pot pie, bitch?

Connie: Umm, no…

Studs: Then… SHUDDAP, BITCH! Go fix me a turkey pot pie! HA! Judd Nelson as John Bender, the coolest mother fucker on the planet. Besides me, Trey, and Seth, of course. Anyway, don’t go anywhere, Connie… I was just fuckin’ around. I need some help here.

Connie: You know, Steve… I wish you’d stop calling me a bitch. It’s degrading, like I’m nothing more than an object for sex and cooking.

[Steve just stares at her]

Connie: Uhhhh, okay, what do you need me for then?

Studs: I need you to tell me why I’m not the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS? I mean, didn’t Carolina win that shit? I just know I pulled Carolina in the lottery.

Connie: No Steve, I think you had Arizona. Something about the “home state thing”.

Studs: Nah, they fuckin’ choked. I’d never choke like that.

Connie: Maybe it was Kentucky then, I remember you saying you wanted them because if you changed some letters around they’d be Komfuckme. And that was perfect for you or something.

Studs: Nope. You must’ve been hearing things. I had Carolina. I know it. But that’s cool, if this shit hole promotion wants to hang the strap on Sarah or whomever she’s facin’… so be it. They ain’t done a thing right since I got here, why start now?

Connie: Isn’t she wrestling that Zeno guy?

Studs: How the fuck should I know? I don’t read the whole card, I just skim until I see iAd shit, then what I did, then I get my lazy writer off his ass so I can comment about it, then I go to a club, pick up a chick I don’t give a rat’s ass about, and then I…

Connie: What? You do what?

Studs: Ummmm, nothin’. Talk about wrestling. Shit like that, you know.

Connie: Sure. Anyway, why do you care about that title in the first place? You have one.

Studs: THIS? [holds up the AYOOYFM/YGBCIADT belt, then throws it back on the sectional] This is a fuckin’ joke. NOBODY wants this title, except maybe that Ken guy or that fuckin’ Mexican. Do you believe this belt is SO pathetic it actually had to cut promos? They couldn’t do anything with it or get anybody towear it, it had to fuckin’ WRESTLE matches. Nobody wants this thing…. it’s a handout. It’s a pity belt. It’s a title they put on guys that can’t hold the big one. And I can HOLD THE BIG ONE, ya dig? Do it everytime I piss.

[Connie sarcastically rolls her eyes]

Studs: Seriously, do you think Sarah is gonna make any money for this place? She couldn’t draw a dime unless she was on a corner. And Zeno? That fucker couldn’t make money if he inked it himself.

Connie: Steve, they are gifted entertainers… I’m sure the promotion thinks they could do good for….

Studs: ARE YOU SMOKIN’ CRACK? Do you know this Big Boss guy? He’s the IRS wet dream! If they ever catch that fuckin’ dude and get him to pay what he owes, nobody else in the fuckin’ country would ever have to pay taxes again. Including myself, which is really all I care about in the first place. That guy does the dumbest things, he’s ran this place into the ground. This fed makes no money at all, and then he’s goin’ to do something like this, and put the title on either one of them? Then expect me to compete in hardcore matches? It’s stupid. I ain’t gonna do it, which it why I need your help.

Connie: I thought my help was remember what March Sadness team you had.

Studs: No, stupid. I intend on befriending some slacker that doesn’t know anything about this place and give him the belt as a gesture of good faith. You know, make him think I’m I swell guy and all. Then watch him get the shit beat outta him in one of Ken’s exploding tacks on a stick matches or Mano’s Mexican Food The Day After Death Matches and laugh my ass off. I’m too good for shit like that, I need to be the man. Not some hardcore champion…. unless they let me rename it the harddick champion. Every chick knows I won’t have a problem defending that title.

Connie: (yawns) Whatever, Steve. What help can I be?

Studs: Well, I’ve been flippin’ though the channels, checkin’ out cats from other promotions as well as this one. Bottom rungers that would never win a title even if they’d wrestle them fuckin’ selves for it. Check ’em out, and help me pick one I can give this title to, or else I’ll just have to suck it up and keep the gatdamn thing myself.

Connie: Steve, this is a pretty mean thing to do to a new guy.

Studs: You really think I give a shit? Now shut up and look at this first one.

[Steve turns on the TiVo. There’s a he-she conducting an interview]

On the screen: NEEP! Do you really want to hurt me? POINK! Do you really want to make me cry?

Studs: Fuck yeah, I wanna hurt you and make you cry, you son of a bitch. Take this title and you’ll hurt and cry every night. What do you think, Connie?

Connie: Is that?

Studs: I dunno. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. I don’t care. You think it’ll take the belt?

Connie: I doubt it, he looks pretty frail, and needing a hit. What else do you have?

[hits play again. There’s a very skinny man on screen dressed in leather pants and a trenchcoat. He’s holding a large semi automatic assault rifle]

Man on screen: I AM AH-NOLD SWIZZLESTICKAH! IF YOU HEAR-AH THAT I’M COMIN’, IT’S NOT A RU-MAH! YOU BETTA GET DOWH-N! YOU GOTTA GET DOWH-N! ARG! I’LL BE BACK!

Connie: Oh my God, you gotta be kidding me. That guy it like a buck ‘o five including his gimmick and his rifle…

Studs: Shit! This guy is great! Oh wait, look at this one.

[He flips the channel, then hits play. It’s a dryer.]

Dryer: Hum! Clank Clank! Hum!

Studs: Uh, oh… somebody left change in their pocket. Heh. What do you think?

Connie: A dryer? That’s stupid.

Studs: Well? They have a gatdamn washin’ machine here! Why not?

Connie: Anything else?

Studs: How about I just give it to Death? He wouldn’t be afraid to get into any kind of match. I mean, he is Death, after all. I dunno, maybe I’ll just keep it. But I ain’t juicin’ all the fuckin’ time. Nah, fuck that. I don’t want to end up havin’ the Dusty or Abdullah forehead. Scars and shit all over the place. I bet Dusty went through about 18,000 blades by himself, and Abdullah was at the point he could probably just hold his breath real hard like he was takin’ a giant dump and his noggin’ would just bust open from that. I don’t wanna be like that. Hell no…

Connie: Steve, this isn’t about you not wanting to be hardcore or thinking Sarah shouldn’t win that main title. You wouldn’t have helped Sarah’s friend, Kay, if you didn’t think…. hey, wait a minute. I know what you’re doing…

Studs: Hold up, I know what you’re thinkin’. But it’s cool, I ain’t like that. Sarah’s gay. She’s lez, she munches the carpet… I ain’t tryin’ to hook up….

Connie: NO! Kay Fabe’s the lesbian. I think Sarah is straight and you’re trying to get in her pants. That’s what this whole thing is about. You think she’s going to win, and you know you can’t get a shot at that OWTTM while you have a different one. You’re trying to get into the main title picture so you can grope and fondle her in the ring, and try to get her bed with you aren’t you? That’s why you helped Kay Fabe, you think Sarah will owe you one, right?

Studs: No.

Connie: You’re trying to…. ooooh, I know what you’re doing!

Studs: Look, I don’t know who I saved at SMC 18, that was like three days ago when I read that shit and I didn’t bother to look at it again for this bit. I thought I saved Kay, hell, I dunno… it was one of those bitches, they all look the same to me. All I want to do it get rid of this hardcore title and put it on some dumbass who doesn’t know any better. Get the title that I deserve… the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. You act like every other girl I see, I want to fuck ’em.

[Connie just stares at Steve like he did at her earlier]

Studs: Well, it doesn’t mean I actually do…

[Connie continues to stare]

Studs: Not all the time…

[Connie continues to stare, starts tapping her foot and crosses her arms]

Studs: You really think that?

[Connie lets out a huge sigh]

Studs: Really? You think that I try to play hide the sausage with all of ’em?

Connie: Yep.

Studs: I’m hurt. Really I am. [fakes a sniffle] I can’t believe you’d think that… and I really can’t believe my lazy ass writer has dragged this promo out so long. He must be off work today. I’m sure there’s some things around his shitty house he could be doing…. isn’t that right, loser?

~~~Yes, you are correct, Steve. Say something quick so I can end this thing.~~~

Studs: Why don’t you just cut to static like you normally do when you run out of things to type?

~~~Okay. Sounds good. Cut to static.~~~

rant , , , , , , , , , , , , ,