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Anything Is Possible!

November 5th, 2008
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Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

(Meanwhile, a day later…SMP and Nurse Heidi are watching the EXTENSIVE MEDIA COVERAGE of last night’s election results. SMP has a strange grin on his face.)

NH: Sil? Why are you so happy? I thought you didn’t care about this election because all politicians are crooks. You voted?

SMP: Of course! And the outcome was incredible! Can you believe it? An African-American president? Anything is possible now! Like me winning the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS at MEGABRAWL II!

NH: BWAAA HAAA HAAAAAA!

SMP: What?

NH: I think having a black president, no matter how bizarre and impossible that seemed 40 years ago, is still more believable than you winning that title.

SMP: It’s a sign, I’m telling you. I just hope I don’t become Sil the Plumber.

NH: Huh?

SMP: Obama’s tax plan, remember Joe the Plumber?

NH: No, I thought you were going into a new profession. Like anybody wants to see YOUR ass crack.

SMP: Why is that associated with plumbers? That’s stereotyping!

NH: Like fried chicken in the White House?

SMP: WHAT?! You can’t say that!

NH: Well, isn’t it the same?

SMP: That’s more like racial profiling…

NH: Toe-MAY-toe, toe-MAH-toe…

SMP: Well, whatever. I still think it’s good luck for me. History is on my side. Things that never happen are happening. Karma is alive and well. Did you know that whenever the Washington Redskins lose their final home game in an election year, the incumbent party loses? That happened. Steelers beat them Monday night in D.C.

Did you know that when a guy puts a curse on another guy’s logo, his fantasy team loses?

A black president… ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!

NH: Like you winning the eWmania tournament?

SMP: Oh no… I’m SO losing that. But the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS? It just may be MY year…

GET IT?

GOT IT?

GOOD!

(SMP plops the Swiss Army Belt over his shoulder, the cork screw pops out of it and jabs him in the eye.
Quick fade as Nurse Heidi administers first aid and buddy care.)

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“Icon?” ruins “Idol?”

May 25th, 2008

Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

LOS ANGELES – The grown-up rocker triumphed over the smooth-voiced kid as David Cook claimed the “American Idol” title Wednesday, and it wasn’t as much of a surprise as it seemed. However, a little known professional wrestler from a small time, and arguably low budget “promotion” caused several surprises of his own.

While the judges all but crowned 17-year-old David Archuleta the night before, the voters decided otherwise — and in a huge and unexpected way. Host Ryan Seacrest said before the results that that the margin was 12 million votes, and it turns out they broke in the favor of the 25-year-old from Blue Springs, Mo. Meanwhile, Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, an aging grappler from Nipples, er Naples, Florida was crowning the night his own special way.

Plants, who was in the news several months ago after causing a ruckus during a studio taping of “Jeopardy!”, one in which had allegedly caused host Alex Trebek to have a heart attack, has once again shown that professional wrestlers from insignificant federations should not be allowed in public venues.

While Plants was disturbing the event backstage, Cook was overcome by emotion, bending toward the stage after his name was announced. When he stood up, his eyes were filled with tears, the second time in as many nights that the scruffy, grainy-voiced belter had broken down.

“This is amazing,” he said. “This is all your fault,” he added, addressing his brother, Andrew. The story goes that Cook was only tagging along with his sibling to the “Idol” auditions to lend support, and wound up getting on the show.

The festivities began innocent enough as Cook immediately took the microphone and began to sing “Time of my Life” by Nashville singer/songwriter Regie Hamm, winner of the annual “Idol” songwriting competition, to close out season seven.

Cook refused to bow to the conventional during his three-song set Tuesday, with Collective Soul’s “The World I Know” as his pick for a closing performance. He also sang U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” and the power ballad “Dream Big,” his choice from the songwriting competition’s non-winning finalists.

During the show, viewers got songs from runners-up including Syesha Mercado, who dueted with Seal on his song “Waiting for You,” and a solo on “Hallelujah” by dreadlocked Jason Castro.

Other “Idol” contestant and name-brand pairings: Cook with ZZ Top, Archuleta with OneRepublic, Bryan Adams with the top six male singers and Brooke White with Graham Nash.

“Brooke looks so much better than Crosby,” Nash quipped backstage, referring to bandmate David Crosby.

The Jonas Brothers got the stage to themselves for a performance.

“American Idol” also celebrated the awfulness that is part of the show, usually confined to the early auditions, with a performance by failed contestant Reynaldo Lapuz that threw in University of Southern California cheerleaders and marching band members. And this is where the proverbial “went to hell in a hand basket” part of the show occurred.

Plants, who was in the audience next to last year’s runner up Blake Lewis and former “Idol” reject William “She Bangs” Hung, took exception to Reynaldo’s butchery of his hand penned tune for controversial judge Simon Cowell. During the portion of the performance where the off-key Lapuz couldn’t even keep tempo with the band, Plants left his seat and somehow managed to get backstage by hiding under Season 2’s winner Ruben Studdard’s left titty.

After the dreadful “performance”, Plants met Reynaldo as he left the stage, kicked him in the stomach, and delivered a “wrestling finisher” Plants calls the “Med Degree”, his version of popular wrestler Hunter Hearst Helmsley’s (Jean Paul Levesque) maneuver christened the “Pedigree”.

Plants was heard by several bystanders as he stood over the prone Lupuz saying, “You couldn’t even sing the goddamn song WITH a band”!

No charges have been filed due to the fact when Reynaldo’s lawyer was contacted, he replied, “What defense do we have? Reynaldo sucks.”

Plants was in the news in a related incident less than a year ago when competing on a “Celebrity” show of “Jeopardy!” with fellow wrestlers Abdullah the Butcher (who chased a live chicken on the set) and former Florida State All-American Ron Simmons when Plants became enraged, flipped his podium, and wiped his own doo-doo on a door inside the studio.

Plants’ actions have been blamed for the cause of Trebek’s infarction that hospitalized the long-time host for several days.

Plants is also being looked at for being directly and/or indirectly responsible in some way to other tragedies ranging from China’s recent series of earthquakes, the four severed human feet found off the coast of British Columbia, rising gas prices, the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa, the Myanmar cyclone, helping R. Kelly conspire to literally piss on his fans, Watergate, the second gunman on the grassy knoll, to being responsible for the mega push of Hannah Montana merchandise.

Plants could not be reached for comment, but sources close to the self proclaimed “Sinister Surgeon” and “Dirtiest Boobie Enhancer in Wrestling” say that the doctor turned wrestler is aloof and “on-edge” recently after locker room rumors put his co-worker Nurse Heidi, who is also rumored to be in love with Dr. Plants, in a home made sex video with another wrestler. Luckily, it’s not Sean Waltman, but rather a wrestler who also works for the same promotion Plants is affiliated with.

The source says that despite on-going denials, Dr. Plants has feelings for his nurse, who works for him in a breast augmentation clinic as well as sometimes appearing as his valet at matches when she’s not doing ring introductions, and his bizarre behavior is related to the supposed sex tape and its actual existence.

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Semi-Final Saturday

April 5th, 2008
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Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

[Dr. Silaconne M. Plants and Nurse Heidi are seen milling around the outside walkways of The Alamo Dome in San Antonio, Texas, along with thousands of other fans in a mixed sea of Memphis, Carolina, UCLA, and Kansas blue. Well, all except for Dr. Plants, who’s wearing a homemade, iron-on lettered t-shirt that reads, “I’m a famous pro wrestler, ask for my autograph.” Nurse Heidi sports her own non-team affiliated shirt, cut to show her midriff, with the phrase “You looked better on MySpace” stretched across her bosom. Neither one of them seem very happy waiting in a very long line for a generic three-point challenge.]

NH: Wow, this line is almost as long as…

SMP: HOLD ON! Let me fill in the blank. Since douja’s last RP?

NH: How about the debut of TNA !MPLOSION!? Are you sure they’re not calling that one Chinese Democracy?

SMP: How about, longer than Sir Hungalot’s wiener?

NH: (double takes) What? How would you know?

SMP: Hey, I’ve seen his movies. 10,000 inches B.C. is pretty good. The Bank Blow Job, Drillbit Nail Her, The Great Master Debaters, and Leather Dickheads are all must see.

NH: Well, don’t see There Will Be Blood (The Red Willy Saga). It’s really gross. Can’t we have three days out of the month without somebody wanting it?

SMP: I dunno. I wouldn’t think that you’d take three off.

NH: Yeah, you’re probably right. HEY! We moved a step up, but this line is still as long as…

SMP: The time between now and Axl’s last entertaining promo?

NH: Huh? He had one?

SMP: Well, no. Not really. Well… there was that one time…. nah.

NH: You should really quit picking on Axl. You better concentrate on your !MPLOSION! opponent. Wasn’t it Pete Trable?

SMP: Yeah. But he’s suspended. I think they might let him come back for the match and then suspend him again.

NH: Looks like they’d just make him wrestle and not pay him.

SMP: What punishment is that? They do that anyway.

NH: I know, right?!

[They high five.]

SMP: Hey, getting back to Axl. It’s a shame his last promo was just an April’s Fools prank. At least, I think it was. Or, it could have been just a lame way to get his Russo character back in BOB. Which would totally suck. By the way, did you notice that picture of Russo? Is it just me, or were his hands bigger than his head?

NH: I don’t know, I didn’t look at it.

SMP: Well you should. Pffft. Russo. Some people just never learn.

[Two teenagers approach the tandem, scraggly looking dudes, one with a greasy ponytail and the other with a Von Erich looking “hasn’t been cut in about 2 ½ years” shag. Neither looks to be very high on the evolution chain. The first kid reads Plants’ shirt, which is an accomplishment in its own right.]

Ponytail: So, you’re a famous pro wrestler? Which one?

NH: Heh. He’s not really a famous wrestler, he just plays one on television.

Shaggy guy: You must be rich or something, dude. How does an old guy like you get a hot chick like that?

SMP: I’m not that old.

Ponytail: Dude, you’re fucking old.

SMP: Language. Please? You’re in the presence of a lady.

Shaggy: Lady? Shit, she looks like she could suck a bowling ball through a fucking Hardee’s straw, brah. That ain’t no lady, she’s a damned skanky ho bag. She could probably suck a… dude, what’s really big?

Ponytail: A glacier, dude! Say a glacier!

Shaggy: Yeah, she could probably suck a glacier through a garden hose or something.

NH: I can.

Ponytail: Fucking-A, dude!

NH: But I only suck his, cause he’s hung like a horse. Run along, little boys.

Shaggy: Whoooooah! Fucking cool, man! Can I have your autograph?

SMP: Sure.

[He signs both guy’s t-shirts with a readily available Sharpie®.]

Ponytail: Thanks, man!

Shaggy: Yeah, brah. Thanks, dude.

[They stumble away, barely audibly gloating about getting “Sir Hungalot’s” autograph.]

SMP: Thanks for speaking up back there. You didn’t have to make like you’ve given me oral to avoid a confrontation. I could’ve handled them. Both if necessary. I was a former STWF InterGalactic champion, you know.

NH: Sil, I could’ve handled them! I just wanted to see the looks on their faces when I said that. Guys that age almost cream their pants when a woman talks to them that way.

SMP: Their age? Hell, I almost did too.

NH: Oh, that’s sweet.

[There’s a moment or two of uncomfortable silence.]

NH: Ummm. So, hey? Wanna bet 10 dollars on who hits the most three pointers?

SMP: Yeah. But can you spot me 10? Final Four tickets aren’t that cheap these days. Not to mention the plane tickets to get here…

NH: How about this? You win and I’ll show you my tits.

SMP: Heidi, I’ve seen your boobs probably a thousand times. Didn’t you know that Barry and Garry drilled a peephole that went from the break room to the women’s locker room back at County General?

NH: You peeked at me back then?

SMP: Duh, I’m a man.

NH: Now that’s really sweet! Thanks!

SMP: Ahem. Don’t mention it. Really, it’s okay.

NH: But that was so long ago! Why haven’t you said anything about that until now?

SMP: I didn’t really think it was that big of a deal. You’re an attractive woman, I think. You’re naked and walking around. The boys drilled a hole in the wall. I’m a man. Yeah, I’m going to look.

NH: Oh my god. I so wish you would’ve told me back then. I had such a crush on you when I first started working there.

SMP: Ummm, where is this going?

NH: I don’t… know.

SMP: Business and pleasure don’t mix.

NH: It could.

SMP: It’s doesn’t. Dipping the pen in company ink…

NH: There’s exceptions…

SMP: It’s a no-no.

NH: What are you saying? You wouldn’t want to have….

Nasty Carnie Guy: STEP RIGHT UP! HURRY! HURRY! HURRY! You got 30 seconds to hit as many three pointers as you can for the GRAND PRIZE! Hit eight in 30 seconds, take your pick of jersey!

NH: ….with me?

SMP: It’s your time to shoot. Good luck!

NH: But what about?

SMP: You’re holding up the line! And the promo was pre-arraigned to last only as long as it took us to get to the basketballs. We’re out of time!

NH: Oh no! You’re not going to get off that….

[static]

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New Era RP. March 12, 2008.

March 12th, 2008
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Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

[Dr. Sliaconne M. Plants and Nurse Heidi are in his office. Yeah, this is pretty much the same thing as last time except that Plants no longer has ice on his balls. There seems to be a bit of distress on Heidi’s visage, as she uses a half a semester of “character acting” at Monserrat Nighttime Community College to convey a degree of concern.]

Nurse Heidi

NH: Hey Sil, have you seen this memo from Mr. Leary about the upcoming iMPLOSION! events?

SMP: Where was it?

NH: On the message board.

SMP: I thought that was Joe Bananas.

NH: No, stupid. Under the Vent Your Spleen section.

SMP: I don’t read that one. I think you have to be out of character on that board and I’m always in character. Like right now. See? I’m Doctor Silaconne M. Plants. The greatest professional wrestler in the history of history. The Dirtiest Boobie Enhancer in Wrestling Today™. Have I mentioned that I defeated Sgt. Genocide for the STWF InterGalactic title? Then won it again, one of only two men to hold it twice? And I was the LAST to hold it, have I mentioned that?

NH: About a million times. Million and one now…

SMP: I see. What’s the memo?

NH: RPs are going to matter now. No more gimmes. Here, I’ll read it to you:
OK, here’s the info on what I’m planning for iMPLOSION. Basically, over the last few years in BOB, RPs haven’t mattered too much, as long as you were participating, you usually got a decent enough presence on the cards. Sure, there are a lot of changes I’d love to make now looking back involving certain pushes/characters, but what can I say, I was drunk most of 2003-2004. And parts of 2002, honestly.

SMP: Who wasn’t? I’m drunk right now. Well, not really drunk… but slightly soused.

NH: Are you finished? Can I please continue?

SMP: Oh sure. But I guess that “drunk in ‘03/’04” explains Axl’s title run.

NH: He wasn’t even here then, was he?

SMP: Hardcore JJ’s title run?

NH: Now that’s debatable. Anyway…

So, here’s the deal with iMPLOSION. RPs are going to matter. It’s not going to be based on the basketball outcomes this year, but what’s going to happen is a much more focused version of our yearly attempt at March Mayhem. It’ll be 32 people involved in a big tournament (with the stakes to be revealed on the first show) that will be determined by YOU (and my judgment of you, basically).

SMP: Uh-oh. That doesn’t bode too well for me, does it? I was hoping for that luck of the draw thing this year like douja got that one time. Duke? Come on, now…he’d have never won that tournament without Duke.

NH: *ahem*

SMP: Sorry. Carry on.

NH: I don’t have a planned winner. The people who have the funniest or most creative or just all around most entertaining Rants will advance. Seedings have been based on an all-time BOB points system similar to hockey standings.

SMP: What?! I have to be funny and creative? And *gasp* ENTERTAINING? Shit. I’m toast. I’ll never win that tournament.

NH: Shhhhh. You’re not supposed to talk about that yet.

SMP: I’m not?

NH: No.
So, I’ll lay it out simply. If you RP and your opponent doesn’t, even if it’s just a one-liner for example, you win. If neither person RPs, then it’s up to me who advances (there won’t be any double-eliminations). If both RP, then whichever RP I enjoyed more gets rewarded. Pretty simple, right? I hope so.

SMP: Simple? It sounds simple enough. But I’m scared, Heidi. What if I lose to a one-liner?

NH: Duh, that’s if you don’t post, dummy. You’re doing one right now.

SMP: Phew! That was close!

NH: iMPLOSION will lead us to the big final match, which will feature the final four, at our yet-to-be-named next On-Demand event. As a somewhat related tangent, if anybody has any OnDemand names you’d like to throw out, I’m open to all ideas, even if it doesn’t end up being used for the next show.

SMP: How about Delusions of Grandeur? I like that! And any of Steven Seagal’s three-line titles can work in BOB. Like these for instance:
Flight of Fury. (wrestling on a plane!)
Above The Law (kudos to BigBoss’ constant dodging of the IRS!)
Today You Die (a card with all “death matches”!)
Marked For Death (Death in the main event!)
Hard To Kill (a tribute to BOB’s longevity and the people who keep it running!)
On Deadly Ground (that should be self explanatory.)
Fire Down Below (a nod to your recurring cystitis!)

NH: HEY!

SMP: Half Past Dead, Out Of Reach…

NH: How about his last movie? Straight to Video?

SMP: I know, BOB could hold an event in China, and call it Chinese Democracy. Then they wouldn’t have to post the card for 10 years!

NH: I know, right?

[They high five, then Heidi slaps the Doc.]

SMP: Hey! What was that for?

NH: My cystitis. I can’t help it if I have honeymoon syndrome all the time.

SMP: Duly noted. What’s the rest of the message?

NH: Right then. With that all in mind, the first card will be posted in a few minutes. If you are active and are not on the first show, don’t freak out. Everyone will have matches within the first three shows.

SMP: Am I on there?

NH: Yep. You got Pete Trable.

SMP: BWAAAHAAA HAAA! That’s a gimme! He sucks! His own handler doesn’t even like him! In fact, I heard through the grapevine that his handler gave The Great’s handler the rights to use him because Pete was mad that Axl’s handler made him say “Word to your gram-gram.”

NH: Huh?

SMP: It’s a long story. Anyway, I should advance with no problem. I also heard that Pete was on suspension from doing promos for a month for gratuitous use of the “N” word in his last rant. He was fined, reprimanded, and can’t say that anymore. Without that, he’s nothing. I should breeze on through.

NH: So he can’t RP?

SMP: Nope!

NH: This means you can win with a one–liner.

SMP: Then I choose: FARFENNOOGIN.

NH: That’s not how you say it. And it’s not funny, either.

SMP: Funny is irrelevant in this situation, Pete can’t respond!

NH: Well there you go. Let me finish the memo because I have to pee.

SMP: Cystitis?

NH: All I ask is that if you are ranting for the first show, don’t mention the tournament, because realistically, your character doesn’t know about it yet and none of you know what the stakes are. All you know is you have a match. Get it?

SMP: GOT IT! GOOD!

NH: Are we done?

SMP: Would you like for me to write you a script for Cipro?

NH: That’s soooo not funny…

SMP: I wasn’t saying that for RP sake. I was serious.

NH: Then sure.

SMP: Consider it done. By the way, before we sign off… the other day, when Steve was over here… I later found nipple pasties, a stripper pole, various sex toys including a cat-o-nine tails, and some K-Y jelly in the staff lounge. Do you know
anything about that?

NH: Not a thing. Gotta run! Ummm. See ya!

[Fade out]

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SMP, NH, SS, and a RBNS

March 4th, 2008
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Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

[Dr. Silaconne M. Plants is once again, back in his office. He pushes away from his desk, revealing a comedy ice bag situated over his groin area. He hits his overhead page button:]

SMP: Nurse Heidi, please report to the office.

[Moments later, Nurse Heidi is with the Doc in the office.]

Nurse Heidi

NH: What’s up? I know it’s not your penis, with that swelling and all, I bet it looks like an acorn nested in a Pilates exercise ball.

SMP: Yeah, that’s so funny. I think I’m having a genuine Tommy Dreamer going on here. I need some fluid drained or something, I’m going to have to cancel my appointments for the rest of the day.

NH: Are you sure? You only have one more.

SMP: Make it quick. I’m dying here. Who the hell is Kid Pirate anyway? And can’t a guy make a name for himself without kicking everybody in the nuts with a peg leg?

NH: I guess not. I’m going to lunch. Your next patient is coming in soon. I have to go.

SMP: Damn that Kid Pirate and his Bruce Pearl!

NH: Huh?

SMP: Bruce Pearl! The kick in the balls! I’m going to kill that guy.

NH: Umm, I believe it was the Black Pearl. Bruce Pearl is the Tennessee men’s basketball coach.

SMP: I thought that was Pat Summit.

NH: Eh? No, she coaches the women’s team… she just LOOKS like a man.

SMP: Oh.

NH: Gotta run!

Steve Studnuts

[Several minutes pass after Nurse Heidi leaves. Then, Steve Studnuts walks in and places the Swiss Army Belt Title on Plants’ desk.]

Studs: How’s it hangin’, jerkweed? Heh. It’s not hangin’ is it? Your shit is all fucked up.

SMP: I don’t’ understand. How do you win a belt and I get kicked in the nads? You hardly do anything different when you do promo… and the peanut butter jelly time was MY idea!

Studs: So? You had that stupid one. I had a motherfucker that rocked. And I’m in the iAd, so we win shit and you get stuck in dumb tag-team feuds with Kevin and your partner that never does shit on the board.

SMP: Oh, he’s shit on the board, alright.

Studs: Yep, I guess he has.

SMP: And Trey’s in the iAd, he’s caught in the same dumb tag-team feud as I am.

Studs: Yeah, but he’s caught on the side that keeps the fuckin’ titles.

ANY-way, Connie mentioned somethin’ about gettin’ bigger titties some time back, and you’re the cheapest fucker I could find. What can you do for me?

SMP: I thought she said she wouldn’t let me do it, because I suck at it?

Studs: You suck at a lot of things, Plants… but it’s MY gatdamn money. Can you make the bitch’s titties bigger or what? You know, without fuckin’ them up and havin’ them look like Dolph Lundgren’s haircut in Rocky IV and shit.

SMP: I don’t know. I have a lot on my mind lately. I’m not sure I can concentrate on doing a good job on somebody I know.

Studs: Well fuck! I guess I’m just gonna have to shell out some serious dough and have the shit done right. If you fucked up my bitch’s fun bags, there’d be some weirdness between us. Ya dig?

Hey, are you fuckin’ Heidi yet?

SMP: Umm, I don’t see how that matters with what we’re discussing.

Studs: How can you work with her all day and not be hittin’ that in the fuckin’ staff lounge or somethin’?

SMP: Our relationship is strictly professional. Besides, haven’t you ever heard of “You don’t dip your pen in company ink?”

Studs: Yeah, but the motherfucker that came up with that probably had ass ugly, stank, crack smokin’ bitches in his office. Or some fat, fuckin’ cow looking broads that you wouldn’t want to fuck even with somebody else’s pen. You have a certified, card carrying fuckin’ hottie that loves the dick. At least, that’s what I heard… um, not like I’d know or anything.

SMP: Heidi is my friend. Sex ruins friendships.

Studs: So, I take that as a “no”. You ain’t hittin’ it.

SMP: Can we change the subject?

Studs: Sure. He we go…
When are you and Heidi gonna fuck?

SMP: That wasn’t a change of subject.

Studs: How about this? How many titles have you won in BOB?

SMP: Next subject?

Studs: Remember that time when Lance Mayhem and I kicked your fuckin’ ass in that cage match with Luke Warm at Sunday, Bloody Sunday?

SMP: Was that the one where my mother juiced you with a hard-way shot with a rolling pin?

Studs: Whaaaaaa? I don’t remember that shit. I do remember that Bobo came down after the match and killed you deader than fuckin’ fried chicken, though.

SMP: Yeah, that pretty much sucked.

Studs: You’re alright, Plants, despite being a fuckin’ loser. I think I’m going to call up Molly Ringwald and see if she’ll date you. Of course, I’ll have to ask if she’d date a guy like you, with your giant nut sack and all. I mean, if you had a nice personality, was a good dancer, would she consider it? But once again, she’d have to ride in the backseat because your balls would ride shotgun.

SMP: Oh great, the John Bender act again.

Studs: How would she suppose you’d ride a bike?

SMP: You’re a riot, Steve.

Studs: SHUDDAP, BITCH! Go fix me a turkey pot pie!
Heh, you’re aces, kid. Go drain your sack.

SMP: Thanks for your concern….

Studs: Don’t mention it. Let me know about that titty thing, Connie’s gonna get it done somewhere, and I don’t wanna spend a lot on her tits. You know, when I could be spendin’ it on some other chick’s tits. Ya dig?

SMP: Whatever. We’ll see you around.

Studs: Not if I see your first, jerkweed. I’m out. Later, faggot.

SMP: Yeah, see ya.

[Studnuts leaves the office.]

SMP: Asshole….

[fade.]

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Still on strike?

January 15th, 2008

Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

[Dr. Silaconne M. Plants and Nurse Heidi are trying to do a promo…]

SMP: I hate the Screen Actor Guild!

NH: But you had to join to get paid for your GEICO caveman spots.

SMP: That’s true. But with the writer’s strike I haven’t been able to cut a promo in weeks.

Nurse Heidi

NH: Some might say years!

SMP: I know, right!

[They high five…and miss!]

SMP: Man, we’re really rusty.

NH: This promo is starting to suck…

SMP: Damn right. Any word from those people I ask you contact?

NH: Well…. The Great’s writer said he didn’t feel comfortable doing your promos.

SMP: It’s probably better he didn’t anyway. What it’d be?
I’ll hit you harder…. than Dixie Carter…
booger and Kevin, we’ll beat you eas-i-LEE.
Luke and S…M……P!
Champs, soon to be.
1-2—-THREE. Blah.

NH: He’s a little better than that.

SMP: Sure. What about those Kent State guys?

NH: Nope. Nobody has died recently, so they don’t really have any new material.

SMP: Their last one was pretty good. Nobody died for that one.

NH: I guess?

SMP: What about CircularAnswer? I heard he’s back.

NH: Nah. I didn’t bother with him. Want me to try?

SMP: No, he’ll probably cut my wiener off again. HEY! How about the indy writer guys?

NH: I heard Don Imus’ ex-writer is free.

SMP: Ew. No thanks…. I don’t think calling those guys nappy headed hos is going to be helpful. Maybe if Luke and I were wrestling douja and his nephew, what was his name?

NH: Who cares?

SMP: Point taken. What about Leary?

NH: He’s too busy writing the card! In fact, he’s taking help from the staff to finish. Axl is even writing some matches.

SMP: HELL NO! He’s not writing MY match is he?

NH: How would I know?

SMP: I don’t know! I’m desperate for stuff, I’m lost without my writer! Luke Warm, I HATE YOU!

NH: He’s your partner….

SMP: SO WHAT? He does all these stupid image thingees and then doesn’t post a damn thing since he “came back”. I hate him. It was his idea to reform The Mamaz Boyz, which probably cost me the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS to get locked in a tag-team with that moron….then he doesn’t even show up and rant.

NH: Maybe his writer is on strike, too?

SMP: For about the last six years! Luke Warm, say something you goofy bastard! We can’t lose to Kevin and booger. No offense, but those guys suck! Come on, man!

NH: They don’t suck. They DID win the tag-team titles….

SMP: That does not matter anymore. Hell, The friggin’ Miz has a WWE tag strap, what does THAT tell you?

NH: Hmmmm, good point.

SMP: That’s enough good points, we’re outta here.

NH: Sounds good to me. Quit while we’re ahead, because this stinks!

SMP: Fade this thing, dude! Wish I could help, Leary… but I’m of no help, brother!

[fade out]

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The Death-ly Hallows

October 20th, 2007
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Death

[We open in Afghanistan. Death is sitting on a large rock, wiping his brow. Katie Death, his zombie cheerleader wife, is pointing at him.]

KD: Rar rar!

Death: I do love your Nelson impersonation. Now, why don’t you do your Jenna Jameson impression now while I do my promo.

Katie Death

[Katie starts throwing her head back and forth.]

KD: Raaar! Raaaar! Raaar!

Death: *Sigh* Never mind. Go eat some brains or something.

[Katie shuffles away.]

Death: You know why Katie was doing her Nelson Muntz impersonation at me? Because she realizes, like I do, the mess that is becoming of this tag team title match. Not only do I have to deal with the only guy in BOB who is gayer than Dumbledore, but I’ve also got to deal with you…Axl. BWAHAHAHA! Just kidding, Plants. I know you’re not gay. Hey, seriously, my props on boning Heidi. Maybe I’ll give her a bone of my own at Massively Cool. Think about it, Heidi. I’ll give a whole new meaning to the term “skullfuck.”

Death: But SMP, I’ve got some bad news for you. Your name might as well be Gellert Grindelwad. Just like that black wizard, you’re one of the most dangerous heel wrestlers of all time, but you’re second only to me. And that tag partner of yours sure has some unrequited feelings for you. I think he wants to get hold of your “elder wand.” Oh yeah, Plants. And as legend has it, the supposedly unbeatable Grindewald loses to Dumbledore, if Wikipedia is to be believed. You seriously think I read “Harry Potter”?

Death: So what’s this all mean? It means you may need to worry more about Axl than about me at Massively Cool, because Heidi might not even let me get in the ring. But if I do, remember, Big Bony is the measuring stick. I’ve got a certain title that you could only dream about buying, let alone winning. And Van Halen? XXXtreme Machine laughs at you. I think he’s fingerbanging Tifa while I speak.

[Katie shuffles back on-screen, her face covered in blood.]

Death: Guys from the Netherworld never lose. And you’re gonna find that out first-hand at Massively Cool. There are many imposters in the world, but remember this boys. There’s only one Death. And there’s only ONE WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS.

KD: Here’s your Harry Potter book back.

Death: Hey! The camera didn’t fade to black yet!

KD: Whoops! I mean…rar?

[Fade to–

Death: NOOOOO!

–black.]

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Tag Match? Or 3 on 1?

October 20th, 2007
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Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

[The scene opens with SMP modeling a “Dracula” type cape in front of a full-length mirror. However, this is no ordinary cape as it’s made out of bargain leather and fringes, and accentuated with a pink, feather boa. SMP prances around like he’s added quite a bit of sugar to his britches. On cue, Nurse Heidi walks in…]

Nurse Heidi

NH: What… in the hell….. are you DOING?

SMP: Oh hey. Yeah… well, you know that Halloween is coming up and all, and my tag-team partner for Massively Cool has inspired my costume this year. I’m going as… Count Fagula.

[there’s an uncomfortable pause for around 6 seconds]

NH: You’re kidding, right?

SMP: No. How’s this sound? (in a thick, sorta cheesy, Bela Legosi accent). “ I vant… to sooock…. your deeeck. MUAA HAA HAA!”

NH: pffft! *snort* I can’t help it, I’m going to have to give you that one…
But you know, I watched Axl’s promo this morning, no jokes about that please… and I saw that he’s back on the dark and brooding, tough guy kick again.

SMP: Yep… this is the same guy that was beaten up by his own lackeys a couple of weeks ago, begged off to Goldberg like a whimpering schoolgirl in a grocery store after that, and can’t tell the difference between a can of corn and Rice-a-Roni.

NH: Yeah, that is strange. You’d think for SURE he’d know what Rice-a-Roni was.

SMP: It is the San Francisco treat after all, or at least one of them. Can’t believe he messed that up…

NH: Well, he’s an Oklahoma gay, ya know?

SMP: (in a spot on Louis Gossett in “An Officer and a Gentleman” voice) ONLY TWO THINGS COME FROM OKLAHOMA, SWEET PEA… AND THAT’S STEERS AND QUEERS. AND I DON’T SEE ANY HORNS!
Mayo…NAISE!

[Another pause…]

NH: Ummm, okay. So what are you going to do? He’s says he’s not tagging in.

SMP: Well, obviously the guy is stupid. Everybody knows he’s starting the match because there’s no drama with him, all the heat is on Death and myself. That’s the story. He’s the subplot. You’re just in there for ratings.

NH: What?

SMP: Come on Heidi, nobody cares to see you wrestle, they’re just hoping one of your boobs pops out or your shorts rip.

NH: HEY! I can wrestle! And you’re not doing a very good job of keeping me from tearing into you myself. And by the way, take that dumb cape and boa off… you look ridiculous.

[He does]

NH: Thank you, I can take you somewhat seriously now. And what do you mean there’s no drama with him? Everybody in the match hates his guts!

SMP: Well, you do have a point. But Axl is not the main eventer in this match. Hell, YOU can even squash him. He’s just there as a “what could possibly happen” type scenario guy. He’s a bum.

NH: He clowned you about titles in his promo.

SMP: HE DID WHAT? WHAAAAAT?!

NH: Oh yeah… he said that, of course, you were old as usual, and bragged that he won the OWTTM before you, and so did XXXtreme Machine and you might win it by 2050 and so on and so on…

SMP: (Legosi accent) In-ta-reeeesting…

[The Doc moves to the center of the room. The room darkens and The Smooth Operator is now spotlighted. He reaches up and magically a microphone drops via cord from the ceiling.]

SMP: [Doing his best Dwayne Johnson: Or The Domino: Depending on who you ask:]
AXL, YOU DINGLEBERRY! Come Massively Cool, whether I’m you partner or not…IT DOESN’T MATTER IF I’M YOU PARTNER OR NOT!

I’m going to remove my $500 Italian sock, take off my $1000 Italian, hand made custom loafer… and shove my MILLION DOLLAR ITALIAN FOOT so far up your DOOKIE POOT, CRUSTY ASS!

That all you’ll have to do, is put a couple slices of bread in your mouth… and have yourself a TOE… JAM …. SANDWICH!

In front of the HUNDREDS….

And HUNDREDS…

Of The Doc’s planted fans…

All courtesy of…

[Doing his best Ken Kennedy]

DOC-TOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOR!
SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIL-A-COOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnneeeeeeee.

[5 second delay]

M. Plants.

[The lights come back on.]

SMP: And Death? You get in my way, I’m bringing sticks and stones, pal!

[The Doc stomps off and leaves the room, gently nudging Heidi aside as he walks by…
“Smooth Operator” by Sade begins playing in MIDI format as we fade to pink feathered boa…]

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A Sight For Horny Eyes…

August 30th, 2007
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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…

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I’m ready!

March 14th, 2007
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Dr. Silaconne M. Plants

[Dr. Silaconne M. Plants is back in his office, oddly dressed like Lance Armstrong. Nurse Heidi walks in…]

NH: Okay, I’m not even going to ASK what you’re doing…

SMP: [shrugs] What?

Nurse Heidi

NH: That outfit, you look ridiculous. Did you sign up for the Tour de Cramps? When’s the last time you rode a bike?

SMP: I don’t know, but I need to get my wind up. I need to build my legs up… this Moving Bus Match with douja is the biggest thing this promotion has seen in YEARS. I don’t want to be blown up three minutes in.

NH: A little late to train, don’t you think?

SMP: No. And besides, I’m already in douja’s head. He already KNOWS I’m better than he is. In fact, he left me a voice mail just the other day telling me how I’ve be killing him all these years.

NH: Do you have some nice beach front property in Afghanistan you want to sell me too?

SMP: Oooooooh, a NON believer, huh? Well, listen to this…

*Heidi puts her ear up to SMP’s phone*

NH: What? “Light years ahead of him”? I don’t believe this, and that sounds like Necro Phil to me…

SMP: It’s douja!

NH: It’s Phil, isn’t it?

SMP: NO! It’s douja!

NH: No it’s not, it’s Phil.

SMP: Look , when I wink like this. 😉
It’s means play along with what I’m talking about, okay?
😉

NH: It’s Phil, though. Right?

SMP: 😉

NH: Doctor Plants?

SMP: 😉

NH: Are you going to answer me or just stand there looking stupid?

SMP: 😉

NH: Okay, you’re really starting to creep me out now.

SMP: The 😉 !, Do you not see the 😉 ‘s?

NH: Ummm, do I not see the whats?

SMP: DAMMIT, MAN!

[He composes himself.]

SMP: Despite my script boy’s best efforts to make me look inferior by spelling “putty” and “industries” wrong, douja knows he can’t defeat me. He even admits it.

NH: I think you’ve reached that whole “Terry Funk middle-aged and crazy” part of your career… I think you may have even become certified insane.

SMP: Make light of it if you wish. I know the truth. And the TRUTH, shall set me FREE!

NH: Whatever. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I do know one thing that IS true.

SMP: Really now? What’s that?

NH: You in biker shorts is not very flattering.

SMP: :-[

NH: BWAAA HAAA HAAA!

SMP: What?!

NH: I saw [u]THAT[/u] one! ;D
Maybe I should go for this one – 😎

SMP: Oh really? Maybe this one – 😮

NH: More like- :-/

SMP: >:(

NH: :-*

SMP: 😀

NH: Awwwwww.

SMP: douja! At Living in Sin! I’m Coming to Win! And when I’m finished with you, all your fans… BOTH of them, will have nothing left to do but this! :'(

NH: ::)

SMP: That’s not funny…

NH: 🙂

SMP: Any smillies left?

NH: Not many. 😛

SMP: :-X

NH: Come again?

SMP: :-X

NH: What?

SMP: :-X

NH; I can’t hear you, Doc.

SMP: :-X

NH: Oh well, only one thing left to do… 🙁

[Cut.]

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