Posts Tagged ‘Kevin the Pyromaniac’

Sports Entertainment Conquers All

August 16th, 2008
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Kevin the Pyromaniac

[Kevin The Pyromaniac is backstage at Power Is Stolen. He takes a sip of milk before spitting it out.]

Kevin: Jesus, how long has this milk been here?

[Bruce The Kleptomaniac steals the carton from his hands and looks inside.]

Bruce: Gross, there’s lumps in it.

Kevin: Everything’s going wrong for me… I can’t believe Trey Vincent beat me again.

Bruce: He’s just stronger and more talented. Some of the shots you took were brutal.

Kevin: I doubt these bruises are going to heal for a month.

Bruce: Sports Entertainment conquers all.

Kevin: Isn’t it ‘love conquers all’?

Bruce: Nah, just the blues.

Kevin: I thought jazz conquered the blues. Well, anyway, Clive, point that camera at me.

[He does so.]

Kevin: Trey, this isn’t over by a long shot. In our next encounter I guarantee that I will defeat you, even if takes a nuclear bomb to do it. Pyromania will run wild again and it will leave everyone in it’s wake burnt beyond recognition.

[Kevin rips off his shirt, sets fire to his hands and beats his chest like a gorilla.]

Kevin: Now if you’ll excuse me, I heard Angelina X killed Mr. Fantastic. I’m gonna go pay my respects.

[Kevin leaves the locker room as Bruce steals the camera from Clive.]

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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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Dew Drops

August 4th, 2008
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Kevin the Pyromaniac

[Kevin stands a lifesize mannequin made to look like Trey Vincent in his backyard. A girl named Jasmine, dressed in a red, blue and green plaid skirt and a gray t-shirt stands nearby eating the seeds out of a pomegranate.]

Jasmine: My brain has gone fuzzy, do we have to do this?

Kevin: Trey’s only weakness is women, I have to use that against him.

Jasmine: But it’s pro-wrestling, isn’t that just people making it look like they’re hurting each other?

Kevin: Whoever told you that must have their brain in pieces and fused to their skull.

[Kevin lifts up his shirt to reveal a scar across his belly.]

Kevin: You think I got that from ‘pretending’?

Jasmine: You got that from eating too many fried foods, don’t pretend you’re Mick Foley all of a sudden.

Kevin: Bitch, don’t make me beat you with a waffle iron.

[Kevin casually lifts the Trey mannequin up by the feet and smacks his head on a stone repeatedly.]

Jasmine: Splitting a manequin open isn’t going to prove anything.

[Kevin throws the mannequin at Jasmine to catch.]

Kevin: I just need some sort of distraction, sports entertainers use them all the time. That Buffy bitch wont be out there for him to stare at her ass while I do a roll-up. I need something or someone to catch his eye and make him swell with pride, because he’s an iAd motherfucker. That bastard wont go down with any lead pipe, skull crushing tactic I could use against the likes of XXXtrem Machine.

[Kevin grabs the mannequin.]

Kevin: Now shake your ass about and I’ll pretend like he’s captivated.

[Jasmine does so, and goes through a Diva-like routine of dancing about and half pulling up her skirt.]

Kevin: Now all we need is some gang member in a red bandana to do a run-in and win me the match. God I miss Bruce.

[Kevin spins the ‘staring’ mannequin around and DDTs him.]

Kevin: One, two, three and Generic Ref is holding my hand up in victory.

Jasmine: You’re not Jake the Snake Roberts either.

Kevin: I ought to feed you to the worms and water your grave with a watering can.

Jasmine: But then you wouldn’t have a sexy female distraction, ooh I’m split.

Kevin: Just hook that Trey mannequin up to that tree so I can use him as a punching bag… I swear, even without your help, Trey Vincent will be pushing up daisies come Power Is Stolen.

Jasmine: And you’ll be pushing up Daffodils in Amsterdam with that attitude.

[Kevin holds his arms out in front of his face and stretches them out to the side.]

Kevin: Don’t act up, I may be stupid and drunk, but I’ll still shove a sparkler up your ass.

Jasmine: I’m out, you can ask that Alexia tramp or that Italian bitch to help you, but I wont.

[Kevin throws a glass of lemonade at her face and she storms off, leaving him to smack the Trey mannequin with shovels and a smile.]

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Speeddating Three – Finale (The House Always Wins)

July 30th, 2008

Kevin the Pyromaniac

[Kevin The Pyromaniac is sat at his computer googling pictures of people with the same kind of disease as the elephant man.]

Kevin: Wow, these people are fucked up.

[Batak, a not quite pretty Vietnamese girl, and Kevin are on their second date. Only Kevin would take a girl to the library and look up pictures of people with horrible disfigurements and try to print them off so she can take them home with her.]

Batak: Kevin, I know you wanted to go out with me because we share the same interests, but I only like the pyromania side of it. You know, the guts it takes, the length of time to mentally prepare, the rush of exhilaration. All you’ve done is try to get me interested in gore and people with horrible difigurements.

Kevin: You… don’t think this is interesting?

Batak: I want to take a slow walk through the park, watch the setting sun, pick flowers just before they close.

Kevin: But…

[Kevin starts to shudder and comes all over in a cold sweat.]

Kevin: That’s just like counting down the seconds of your life.

Batak: But you’d be doing it with a pretty girl, that’s how people fall in love.

Kevin: People can’t fall in love watching violence to people’s eyes?

Batak: Kevin, there isn’t a girl in the entire world that wants to watch eyes being poked out.

Kevin: Then what the fuck is this all for? You’re nothing but spineless, cardboard imagination having morons. Can’t you think outside your precious box for one second? I don’t want to waste my life counting numbers on my wrist.

Batak: Well, you’re not going to get laid then, are you?

[She stands up out of her chair and marches right out of the library. Kevin hangs his head a little.]

Kevin: What a drag.

[He starts typing a new search in google. Female, fast talking gore hounds.]

Google: Search Results 0

Kevin: You boring bitches, you really are another kettle of fish.

[The promo ends with a clip of a woman stabbing a man in the stomach and dancing around with him before fading to black. It must have been on youtube or something, don’t ask me.]

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Bow Wow Wow Yippee Yo Yippee Yay

July 29th, 2008
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Trey Vincent

Outside of a fenced yard, Trey Vincent was taunting a beagle dog by smacking the fence with his skull cane.

“Aww, leave the puppy alone,” Sarah “The Jobber Slayer” pleaded. “It could be Kurt’s puppy.”

“Oh, don’t start that jobber with a puppy stuff again just because he turned heel. You see, this dog reminds me of Kevin the Pyromaniac.”

“Really?” Sarah asked. “He doesn’t smell like piss and gasoline.”

“True. But look at it. Short. Multi-colored hair, or fur, or whatever that is. And I just want to bash his face in!”

Sarah The Jobber Slayer

“Trey! That’s a poor defenseless dog! And may I just add, you have mondo issues.”

“No kidding. Did I mention I also want to shove a fish hook up his asshole and use him as Sharc bait?”

“I don’t get it.”

“Inside joke that only I’ll get.”

“How VERY useful. More inside jokes.” Sarah sighs.

“I want to pretend I’m Bob Novak, minus the brain tumor, and run Kevin down in my car.”


“Yeah, that was in bad taste, I know. My Jeep is far too valuable to stain with Kevin’s blood.”

“Totally,” Sarah agreed.

“Hey! What are you doing to my dog?” a voice called from somewhere further up in the yard. A guy came running down toward Trey, Sarah, the dog, and sure, why not, the fence.

“That’s not your dog,” Trey answered.

“It is now.”

The kid stuffs the beagle under his shirt as the dog lets out muffled shrikes and struggles. “Ow! Quit scratching me you bastard! Hey, don’t you have a match with Kevin the Pyromaniac coming up?”

Trey and Sarah look at each other.

“I think he stole my memory, because I just forgot my line,” Sarah said.

“Don’t I know you?” the man with the dog under his shirt asked.

“No,” Sarah answered.

“No, that’s the line,” the man with the dog under his shirt explained.

“Ohhhh. Right then. You know. I’ve really got to say, having Kay Fabe grope me was far more entertaining than dealing with your freak friends, Trey.”

“I’ve never seen this guy before when I cast him for this Rant. I swear!”

“I believe you,” Sarah said. “I’m outie.” Sarah wanders away.

“Anyway,” the man with the dog under his shirt continued. “I can tell you everything you want to know about Kevin. He used to hang around with my brother all the time. You remember Bruce?”

“The Evil New Zealander?”

“No, no. Bruce the Kleptomaniac.”

“As long as you aren’t Terry the Hulkamaniac…I HATE Hogan. And I think Brooke has testicles where her vagina should be…”

“No, no,” the man with the dog said. “I’m Herbert the Tricotillomaniac. TRICOTILLOMANIA~!”


“I pull out my hair. That’s why a got the dog. I need to cover in some bald spots.” Herbert bends over and reveals several bloody, bald spots.

“Sweet. So, you think you can tell me all of Kevin’s weaknesses?”

“Yep. All of them. Argh!” Herbert rips out a patch of hair and throws it at the ground.

“You ever do that to a girl when you were doing her doggy style?”

A muffled bark.

“Not you, stupid dog…”

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July 28th, 2008
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Kevin the Pyromaniac

[The scene opens as Kevin flicks water off the tips of his fingers. He and his mentor, Hobo Ken, are fishing.]

Kevin: Don’t you think trying to catch fish with your bare hands is a little too simplistic?

Hobo Ken: Nah, only assholes use fish hooks.

Kevin: So why aren’t we?

[The two share a wholesome laugh that only two assholes are able to share together. Hobo Ken puts Kevin in a headlock and grinds his knuckle into his skull.]

Hobo Ken: Ok, we’ve done some of the things on the list. We gutted a horse and climbed inside to see what it would feel like.

Kevin: Yeah, there’s a lifetime of fond memories to be had with that.

Hobo Ken: We ran over some prostitutes.

Kevin: They weren’t prostitutes, they were catholic schoolgirls.

Hobo Ken: How could you tell?

Kevin: There were nuns with them!

Hobo Ken: You’re naiive, that’s the kind of get up pimps wear these days. It’s supposed to make them look cool. Well, anyway, we ran over some prostitutes, that’s the main thing.

Kevin: We threw a bucket of baby sick on that church wall.

Hobo Ken: Yes, that was very satisfying. I thought the spray effect was well executed, how it flew in all directions.

Kevin: Yeah, you love throwing vomit at stuff.

Hobo Ken: That’s what’s life is all about! And if I’m the best in the world at it… then I’ve won.

Kevin: You’re still an ugly motherfucker.

Hobo Ken: The fuck do I care?

Kevin: True.

Hobo Ken: We still have to force people to break mirrors and walk under ladders at knife point.

Kevin: I smashed a guy’s head into a car window and watched his body slide down, does that count?

Hobo Ken: How damaged was his head?

Kevin: I wouldn’t say it was CAVED in, but it was fucked up all the same.

Hobo Ken: Ok, we still need to tickle some pre-school kids until milk blows ou of their noses.

Kevin: That’s not mean.

Hobo Ken: … And then punch them!

Kevin: Where did your imagination go Hobo Ken.

Hobo Ken: I washed it down the drain, it’s in heaven now.

Kevin: Or hell.

Hobo Ken: Probably both, you can’t really have one extreme without the other.

Kevin: Well I still have an imagination and I say we should make snowballs out of ashes and throw them at old ladies!

Hobo Ken: And if they fall over, break a hipbone or two, and their purse happens to accidentally get snatched…

Kevin: Then what’s the harm in that?

[The two laugh together like a couple of old buddies.]

Hobo Ken: We are such assholes.

Kevin: You said it Hobo Ken!

[Kevin covers the homeless man in gasoline and sets him on fire, he pushes him over and makes the cover.]

Ref: 1, 2, 3!

Kevin: I’m not a jobber anymore! PYROMANIA!

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July 27th, 2008
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Kevin the Pyromaniac

[Kevin the Pyromaniac is on a date with a Vietnamese girl he found on google. She shares his interest in fire, but the sideshow he has brought her to is not quite her cup of tea.]

Kevin: Wow, so that’s what horse puke feels like.

[Kevin has his hands in a bowl of slime.]

Batak: Can we go? This is gross.

Kevin: Do you know how much blood and sweat it took to get tickets to this thing? It’s not every day you get fucked up stuff like this.

[The Vietnamese girl has a look on her face like she is pissed off down to the bone marrow.]

Kevin: Look at this, the skeleton of the world’s thinnest man… Jesus, someone should have just given this guy a ham sandwich.

Batak: Do you bring all your dates to places where they have pickled elephant fetuses in jars?

Kevin: Most of them can’t stomach the shit in these shows, they’d just run out screaming like a headless chicken.

[She taps her heel like she is about to do the same.]

Kevin: Look at this! The remnants of the exploded brain of the world record holder for most amount of salt water drank.

Batak: I’m supposed to do a spit take? That’s just shrivled up beef jerky.

Kevin: He had beef jerky for brains? That’s just stupid.

Batak: Can we just hurry and look at the rest of these things so we can leave?

Kevin: One second, I gotta go piss like a racehorse.

[As Kevin scurries away to the men’s room, the Vietnamese girl starts looking at some of the displays. There are rubber representations of the biggest snakes in the world, pickled intestines, photos of whitewash fences covered in dust and enough moths stuck to the wall with pins to feed a family for a week.]

Kevin: I’m back, shit, you ought to have seen some of the stuff they have in that bathroom.

Batak: Kevin, if you grew up a bit, you should work at a place like this.

Kevin: I work for Brawlers on a Budget and that’s never going to change, it’s not quite as good as being a pornstar but it’s the next best thing. I can’t drop everything just to work here, I’ve still got my autobiography to write.

Batak: Let’s just get out of here, you might have a sick mind, but I don’t.

[She pulls him by the arm, he opens and closes the fingers on his free hand to try and grab onto something.]

Kevin: But it was real, I’d finally made it here.

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The Animal Kingdom

July 19th, 2008
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Kevin the Pyromaniac

[Kevin The Pyromaniac is sat on a the bottom step of a set of white painted stairs. The blistering sun shines rainbows through his eyelashes. He puts on a pair of black sunglasses, being careful not to jam the earpieces into his eyes.]

Kevin: I need an ice cream.

[He stands up and walks along a set of low concrete walls with his arms out for balance. We cut to a side view to see all the graffiti along the wall as Kevin walks over them. He spies an ice cream truck about a block away and picks up speed, jumping off the wall and landing on his feet. He runs as fast as his little legs will carry him, but the truck drives away before he can reach it. He collapses, exhausted, and stretches his arms out behind him. A shadow suddenly appears over him and a voice speaks.]

Voice: Sloppy work Kevin.

[Kevin opens his eyes to see a scruffy homeless guy with a brown and gray beard and greasy hair down to his shoulders. He is eating a packet of fries that he found in a trashcan.]

Kevin: How do you know my name?

Homeless Guy: I’ve seen you on that Brawlers on the Budget show. You’re pretty cool with all that fire, incoherent rambling and glue sniffing. But you suck as a wrestler, look how out of shape you are.

[The homeless guy lifts up Kevin’s shirt to reveal ribs jutting out.]

Homeless Guy: You’re thinner than me, and I have to live on garbage.

Kevin: Hey, don’t criticize me! Besides, BOB doesn’t even have a training program. They expect you to pay for that shit yourself.

Homeless Guy: And they pay you, what, peanuts?

Kevin: Good grief, peanuts would be a luxury. I was drunk when I signed my contract and didn’t notice the salary was in expired coupons. They wont let me change it because I’m only a B-performer.

[The homeless guy rolls up his sleeves.]

Homeless Guy: Come on, put up your dukes. Let’s see what you’re made of.

[Kevin smiles and hauls himself off the concrete. He takes a step back, avoiding an open manhole, and spits on his hands. He rubs them together and jabs at the air.]

Kevin: Alright.

[Kevin hits a body shot in the homeless guys stomach and receives a right hook to the side of his chin.]

Kevin: You asshole.

Homeless Guy: Hey, I used to be the champion of underground goat fighting so I know how to throw a punch.

[The homeless guy throws a hook to the other side of Kevin’s jaw and knocks one of his teeth loose.]

Kevin: Ow.

Homeless Guy: See? I may be a bum, but I can easily rock your till. You need training.

Kevin: By a hobo?!

Homeless Guy: I’ve watched that Trey Vincent work for years, and when he books you in an Axe fight against a 500 lbs gorilla you’ll wish you knew what to do.

[The homeless guy walks back into an alleyway, motioning for Kevin to follow.]

Homeless Guy: You need training.

Kevin: You’re not a pedophile or anything are you?

Homeless Guy: Just get over here.

[The homeless guy pulls Kevin through the alley and into a small open space behind the drug store. There are cardboard boxes and broken bottles everywhere.]

Homeless Guy: It’s too soon for you to be fighting goats, or even raccoons, but I will give you your first lesson today.

[The homeless guy lines up empty glass bottles on top of a cardboard box.]

Homeless Guy: I want you to cut these in half with the edge of your hand.

Kevin: I ain’t doing that.

[The homeless guy grabs Kevin by the shoulders and shakes him violently.]

Homeless Guy: You have to! This is the first step in learning how to break people’s bones.

[The homeless guy snaps his hand out as quick as lightning and severs the bottle in two.]

Kevin: Piece of cake.

[Kevin slices his hand as he tries to chop the bottle, shattering it into a million pieces.]

Homeless Guy: It takes pinpoint precision.

[The homeless guy demonstrates again.]

Homeless Guy: See your hand going through the bottle before you do it.

[Kevin closes his eyes and chops through the air, slicing the bottle almost as well as the homeless guy.]

Homeless Guy: Good, you’ve passed the first lesson. You’ll make your fans do cartwheels when you beat Trey Vincent at Power Is Stolen. But you have a long way to go… and a lot of broke glass to pick up.

[The homeless guy points at the floor at the shattered bottles, ordering his pupil to pick up every last piece.]

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Doctors and Nurses

July 9th, 2008
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Kevin the Pyromaniac

[Kevin, covered from head to toe in bandages, smiles as his backyard ragtag army walks into his hospital room carrying a portable cooker.]

Benny: You wont be eating hospital food anymore.

[They plug the appliance into the wall and start heating up some oil. They take a box of eggs out of a rustling plastic bag and break them into sizzling liquid, the sound and smell soon fill the room.]

Ned: Here, we got you some supplies also.

[They scatter an assortment of items over Kevin’s bed; alcohol, lighter fluid, glue, smelling salts and even a few bottles swiped from a cupboard somewhere in the hospital.]

Patsie: Everything on the list.

Kevin: This food and stuff to stick up my nose is cool, but where’s Debbie, Tina and Crissy?

Benny: They couldn’t make it, said they had a skateboarding or rollerblading tournament to go to or something. To be honest I think it was a twisting contest and they were ashamed to tell you the truth.

[Kevin cracks his knuckles over his chest.]

Kevin: Whatever makes em happy, I’m just glad I don’t have to play jenga with anorexia patients anymore.

[Ned lifts the eggs out of the frying pan and drops them onto a paper towel. He opens up a loaf of bread and makes a sandwich for Kevin with ketchup and mustard. Kevin munches it down as fast as he can.]

Kevin: That hits the spot.

Patsie: Do they have you doing any exercise yet, ya know, crunches and what not.

Kevin: I can’t, that slimy bastard Trey Vincent fucked me up royally. Even my pinky toe hurts.

Ned: Guys like that are translucent, you just need to dust yourself off and a fight someone weaker than you.

Kevin: I can’t! Do you have any idea how much Trey has humiliated me?

Benny: Well you’d better grow a thick skin, did you see the end of the show?

Kevin: No, I was being rushed here.

Ned: He reformed with the rest of the iAd.

Kevin: Jesus Fucking Christ.

Patsie: Those guys are huge.

Benny: And you’re…

Kevin: Not, I know. But I can’t just run home to mommy. I have to have my revenge against Trey Vincent, even if it means I have to burn my way through the rest of the iAd to get to him.

Ned: Dude, they will break every bone in your body.

Kevin: I know that. But I have on thing they can never kill.

Patsie: What’s that?

Kevin: My pride, baby. Pride.

Benny: You fucking cunt, you’re going to get yourself killed.

Kevin: I don’t care. Trey Vincent was my idol, and he was all of yours. Remember when we used to watch him on late night TV? He was the reason I became a wrestler. I wanted to be just like him.

Ned: It was great having serious, talented wrestlers amongst all the chaos. That’s what made BOB so fucked up.

[Kevin grabs a small bottle of superglue and sticks it up his nose.]

Kevin: I need a rematch against him. At the next show.

[Kevin passes the glue to Benny.]

Ned: But you made the stipulations for your last match, he’s going to want to do the same this time round.

Kevin: Trey doesn’t care about stipulations, he’s a sports entertainer. Plus the guys like… 200 lbs heavier than me.

Patsie: Jesus, you need to lift some weights.

Kevin: I’m going to challenge Trey to one of the oldest gimmick matches known to man. Something a sports entertainer can sink his teeth into.

[Ned takes a big whiff of nail varnish remover.]

Ned: What?

Kevin: A cage match!

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Bag Hangover Promo #3

June 29th, 2008
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[Kevin is squashing tomato ketchup packets with a hammer. He pretends they’re Trey Vincent’s face and mumbles under his breath.]

Kevin: stupidsonofabithccostmethemaineventmatchwillya?

Kevin the Pyromaniac

[Kevin removes his sweat drenched red Harley Davidson t-shirt and flexes his pale muscles the size of grapes.]

Kevin: Trey, if we’re gonna have a match against each other at Unfourgiven, I think I should have a say in the stipulations. You’ve screwed me left right and center and this is my payback, just give me a chance to mop the floor with you.

[Kevin beats his flat chest as violently as he can.]

Kevin: Trey, I challenge you to a Street Fight! But not just any kind of Street Fight, no no no. I’ve made it my mission to kill sports entertainment forever. Get The Flunky down to your local gardening center with a pair of wire cutters at night and steal as many concrete slabs as he can fit in that cheap ass pick up truck of his. I want a REAL Street Fight, with stop signs, traffic cones and everything. At Unfourgiven I am going to give Sports Entertainment a parking ticket!

Clive: That’s not particularly scary.

Kevin: Fuck, ok… at Unfourgiven I will kick Sports Entertainment to the curb!

Clive: Eh, better I suppose.

Kevin: Stop ragging on my threatening one liners!

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