Posts Tagged ‘The Great’

The Gyant Report: ThreatDown!

December 12th, 2008
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Kobe Gyant

A giant logo fills the screen. It’s so big you can’t even read it all, unless by some fluke you have Kobe’s huge television, but that would be impossible because that would mean you ARE Kobe. But I digress… The words The Gyant Report are in gold over a purply background. Fade into Kobe Gyant, who is seated behind a non-descript desk as deafening cheers are heard, so deafening you’d think they were recorded at a football stadium, but no, Kobe is just a giant draw for random unpaid studio audiences. He is styling in a gray wool cap, gray suit jacket, gray scarf, and a beige vest over his #99 Los Santos basketball jersey. Because, you know, he’s a rookie indy wrestler and high school basketball legend, so he’s loaded and can afford fancy outfits, you know.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Welcome back to “The Gyant Report” everyone. I don’t want to scare you, but I have to. This is the ThreatDown!

A graphic pops up on the screen with a countdown screen and a siren blaring in the background. As we return to Kobe, a picture of American Panda is seen over his left shoulder.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Threat number 3: Bears! Specifically, American Panda, the BOB’s latest substar. When I first heard about American Panda, I thought, great. We’re finally sticking it to China by having some guy steal their culture while wrestling in a panda suit. But no. It’s an actual panda, people! On one episode of iMPLOSION, he ate Luke Warm. He’s been farting Texan for weeks, stinking up the whole locker room.

This godless killing machine wants to eat my jugular at MegaBrawl II. Now I understand there is a bamboo shortage, but still, I say no, sir. My blood may taste like the finest wine, but you will never get the pleasure of tasting Kobe Vintage 2008. Unless you somehow magically transform into a super hot vampiress with huge gazungas, I don’t neck with men. In conclusion, just like the Atlanta Zoo can no longer afford it’s panda cam, The BOB cannot afford to have American Panda main eventing for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.

A picture of Kurt Angel now appears over Kobe’s left shoulder.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Threat number 2: Angels! No, I’m not talking about K-Rod going to the Mets. I’m talking about one specific Angel. The BOB’s Kurt Angel. Angels are supposed to be messengers of God, while this man appears to be a messenger of that dude from “Pineapple Express”. And trust me, Seth Rogan is not god. If he were, he would’ve gotten Elizabeth Banks to get butt naked in “Zack and Miri make a Porno.”

And Kurt, contrary to what old black and white movies will tell you, it’s not every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings. It’s every time a bell rings, an Angel gets defeated by Kobe Gyant, son! You ain’t gonna be the number one contender for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. And speaking of non-contenders…

A picture of The Great replaces Kurt’s picture over Kobe’s left shoulder.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Threat number one: The Great. Oh yes, Kobe Gyant has looked over your past Rants, The Great. This is a man who has done more doping than the entire Minnesota Vikings defensive line combined! And yet the people cheer this man? Well, The Great, they won’t be cheering you once they see you as the little man you are when compared to Kobe Gyant in the spotlight at the biggest show of them all, MegaBrawl II, son. You’re gonna go down harder than every Denver Broncos running back this year combined with every Spinal Tap drummer ever.

Kobe reaches under the desk.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

There’s more talent in one of my brand new Kobe V.V. (Kobe says Version Five, not two V’s) shoes, now available from shoe gyant Ekin, at stores nationwide that carry the awesome Ekin brand. The Great, you’re about to face an All Star and see first hand why you’re just a bench warmer. Kobe Gyant is gonna lay some voodoo down on you.

Now Kobe brings up a tennis racket from under his desk.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

I’ma sell this bad boy on eBay after it’s covered in blood from me bashing your head in with it, then I’ma sign it, and I’ll be rich, bitch! Just keep hangin’ with that dude who thinks he’s black. You about to feel some real black power. And that’s the wørd. Oh wait. Wrong rip-off. Peace! From the next ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS Kobe space Gyant period! Good night.

Cue closing credits.

Kobe Gyant

Written By
Kobe Gyant

Produced By
Kobe Gyant

©2008 Face/Heel Partners Unlimited

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R.I.P. Snore

November 10th, 2008
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Caption: The Night Before October Surprise

*ZZZ-Zzzz-ZZzzz-hngGGggh-Ppbhww- zZZzzzZZ . . .*

*ZZZ-Zzzz-ZZzzz-hngGGggh-Ppbhww- zZZzzzZZ . . .*

Death: What the hell is that noise?

[Death rolls over to look at the clock. 3:29 A.M. The noise? That was his wife, Katie. Snoring. As if the bowels of hell were about to spill forth from her mouth.]

*ZZZ-Zzzz-ZZzzz-hngGGggh-Ppbhww- zZZzzzZZ . . .*


[That’s the cell phone vibrating now. Death throws the covers off and walks naked over to the dresser. Oh yes, it’s the classic naked pelvis in the moonlight shot. It’ll have to do since Death doesn’t have an ass. Death grabs his cell phone and looks at the caller ID. After sighing, Death opens the phone.]

*ZZZ-Zzzz-ZZzzz-hngGGggh-Ppbhww- zZZzzzZZ . . .*

Voice: Good ME, what is that noise?

Death: Hey, Boss. That’s Katie. She ate some drunk and you know how she gets when she’s been devouring booze-soaked brains.

*ZZZ-Zzzz-ZZzzz-hngGGggh-Ppbhww- zZZzzzZZ . . .*

Voice: Death, Your Lord Thy God hates to wakest thou. Your Lord Thy God knows you’ve got that oh-so-important match in ROB tomorrow.

Death: BOB.

*ZZZ-Zzzz-ZZzzz-hngGGggh-Ppbhww- zZZzzzZZ . . .*

Voice: Right. But Your Lord Thy God really needs you to goest to a nursing home. Your Lord Thy God has two delays on the Big Board, and Your Lord Thy God can’t get a hold of Reaper. Your Lord Thy God isn’t U.S. Airways, for my sake. Can thou doest this for your Lord thy God?

Death: Fine. I can’t sleep anyway with all this snoring.

[Death yawns.]

Caption: Waiting To Die Nursing Home

[A while later, Death breezes his way through the hallways of a nursing home. All is quiet. Tomb-like.]

Death: Am I in a nursing home or at a BOB show? BWAHAHAHA!

[Eventually, Death finds the room he was looking for. He walks past one bed and looks into bed number two and finds an old man wearing a Death T-shirt, holding a bony foam Death finger, and a Skull & Bones black baseball cap. The man is smiling widely.]

Man: Death. I’m your biggest fan!

[Death cocks his head to the left, confused by this.]

Death: You know I’m here to KILL you, yeah?

Man: Heh?

Death: I’m here to KILL YOU.

Man: Heh?

Death: Oh this going well. Look, pal, I’ve got two more stops to make tonight.

Man: Death. I just wanted to tell you that I’m your biggest fan. I’ve seen all your matches on the idiot box (he says pointing at the TV mounted on the wall behind Death). But lately, it’s been so sad. I was such a huge fan of yours.

Death: Say WHAT?

Man: Heh? Anyway. You lose all the time now. You big loser. You’re like the world’s biggest loser now. You lost to Steve Studnuts, and then to all those guys in that egg match with those coloreds.

Death: Coloreds? Is this 1940?

Man: Look, Death. It’s just not worth living any more watching you lose all the time. I used to think, wow, there’s a guy who’s got less talent than me, but he was able to make it in rasslin. Even if it was in BOB. But now? There’s no reason. I bet you couldn’t even kill me!

Death: Oh, you’re about to find out.

Man: Bring it on you cracker sonofawhore!

[As if in slow motion, the man pulls the covers back, revealing that he’s just barely got more skin than Death. Shakily, the old man tries to push himself up, but he can’t do it, because all of his muscles have wasted away. While this is going on, Death reaches up and yanks the TV off the wall.]

Death: Here’s a “Big Bang Theory” for you.


Death: Man, it’s so nice and quiet in here. Maybe I could sneak in a nap.

*ZZZ-Zzzz-ZZzzz-hngGGggh-Ppbhww- zZZzzzZZ . . .*

Death: Son of a!

[Death walks to the other bed where a man is snoring loudly. That was when he noticed a deck of cards on a table.]

Death: Oooh, isn’t this convenient. Hey, snoring guy, you ever played 52 Card Choke?

[Back outside in a bit, Death was cruising in his Deathmobile when a radio ad caught his attention.]

Announcer: Do you want to stop snoring for good?

Death: Think I’m doing OK myself, pal.

Announcer: Is your wife a heavy drinker, a smoker, or a zombie! Then you need our product!

[Death changes the radio station. “Smooth Operator” by Sade.]

Death: Bah! I hate this song! Wait…did he say zombie?

[Death flips back to the other station.]

Announcer: …dot-com now!

[“(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones starts up.]

Death: Ohhhh!

DJ: Wassup, creatures of the night. This one’s going out to my man, The Great, who will be rocking it in Snore Games this week and leading his team to victory.

Death: His team? HIS team?

DJ: Stones on Kay Yew Enn Tee Sin City, and we’re taking your requests all night long!

Death: Oh, this night can’t get any worse, can it? Am I over the hill? I need a stable to hide my fading talent.

[Death pulls out his cell phone.]

Death: Hey. It’s me. We’re getting the band back together. I’ll explain in detail once this Rant fades to black.

[Fade to black.]

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Can a turkey gooble “TrableTrableTrable”?

November 10th, 2008
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The Great

(The Great and Pete “X-Factor” Trable are packing their gear bags for October Surprise. Actually, they should have already done so and be at October Surprise, so this could be a day or so late in translation. Oh well.)

The Great: Pete, are you ready for Snore Games: The Match Be-Yawn? The Great sure is ready. This is the biggest match in The Great’s career. Even bigger than when The Great wrestled Death for THE ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS.

Pete: Why you shoutin’, dawg? I’m right here, yo!

XFactor Pete Trable

The Great: The Great was told you must capitalize ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS when typing, er, saying it. You should know that, you’ve been in BOB long enough.

Pete: Word. But I never get to umm, say that, since I ain’t never be rasslin’ for it. Feel me?

The Great: The Great gets your point. By the way, The Great must ask you something about what you said back at the Swiss Army Scrabble Scramble.

Pete: Shoot. I be all ears.

The Great: The Great cannot sugar coat this. The Great will not beat around the bush. Although it appears you’ve been beating around some bush during The Great’s moments of working The Great’s day job.

Pete: Word?

The Great: Oh? Pete has for gotten? Let The Great refresh your memory. Here’s what you said. Then feel free to look at The Great. And elaborate.

(The Great pulls out an iMPLOSION! 14 transcript and begins to read)

You said: Then there’s the dude who calls himself The Great
Let me ya’ll a little secret: his first name’s not Nate
His identity
May be a mystery
Even to me
But there is one thing that I know about the Great’s wife
You’ve heard my raps, you know about Barney Fife and word life?
Then you also know I’d love to be in her face, sucka
And you could call Pete Trable a mother— *mic in the air*

Then the crowd said: *BLEEEEP*

And Styles added: OH MY GOD!

(The Great crumples the paper and tosses in on the floor.)

The Great: Well? Explain this to The Great.

Pete: Yo, dawg! I was just playin’! I’m not tryin’ to talk to your girl, your girl can’t even cook, yo! My boo gots to be able to mix up some red beans and rice at the drop of a hat. Fry some chicken if need be, know what I’m sayin’?

(The Great stares at Pete with a look of suspicion.)

Pete: YO! We partnahs! This is the most action I’ve got in BOB, yo! I ain’t stuck in broke ass factions like Heirarchy and sayin’ dumb shit like gram-gram. Since we hook up, I got regular work! I ain’t tryin’ to hate on you and get busy wit your girl. I ain’t tryin’ to hit that!

The Great: Oh, so now The Great’s wife “ain’t worth hitting?”

Pete: Nah, she worth hittin’, I didn’t mean it like that, yo!

The Great: So you WOULD like to hit it.

Pete: Dude, you be twissin’ my words around! Chill, bro! I was just tryin’ to pump up the fans, that’s all! Like I said, my boo gotta cook! She gotta stir up some chitlins and fatback. Pigs feet, yo! All I eat since I got here is Top Ramen and Skahetti O’s! What kinda gangsta eat Skahetti O’s?

The Great: The Great guesses one from the ghetti – o’s? Maybe some Latin gangstas from the— barrios?

Pete: That ain’t right, dawg! Look, I was just Pete bein’ Pete, yo! I was freestylin’, and when I be freestylin’, the raps just flow, know what I’m sayin’? Sometimes I can’t control it.

The Great: Okay. Okay. I guess The Great will accept that apology. But only if you finished that video you promised to make The Great. The one for Angelina X. I hope she didn’t renig on that turkey dinner because The Great didn’t flop for Hawking.

Pete: Yeah, it ain’t cool bein’ a renigger!

The Great: Did you finish it?

Pete: Word! It’s all set. You sang my lyrics like a champ, dawg! Got the sunglasses on there and everythin’. Yo face is a little whack, but I added some beats and it’s all good. Check it out! After Angelina see this, she won’t be able to say no to cookin’ us some bird!

(They go over to The Great’s television and Pete plops a DVD into the player)

The Great: That’s——-well, THAT’S GREAT! You’re right, she can’t say no to THAT! Let’s go to Snore Games and kick some ass, pal!


(They grab their bags and leave.)

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Yes. We. Can.

November 5th, 2008
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“I have a dream.”
– Axl… Savior Elect

[The camera opens…]

[… to 11pm]

[… to Chicago]

[… to November 4th, 2008.]

B.O. : America, we have come so far. We have seen so much. But there is so much more to do. So tonight, let us ask ourselves – if our children should live to see the next century; if my daughters should be so lucky to live as long as Ann Nixon Cooper, what change will they see? What progress will we have made? This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time – to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth – that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we cant, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people:

Yes We Can. Thank you, God bless you, and may God Bless the United States of America.

[Something has happened.]

[On this day…]

[On this night…]

[Change has happened.]

[Yes… change has happened. Our camera pans across the humongous crowd… before switching to scenes all across the world, all of people reacting much the same as those in Chicago…]

[… Before finally opening outside the Residence of Evil.]

[Change has happened.]

[For what was once decked out as a simple home, bearing just a slight resemblence to a castle, has been paved over… and REPLACED with a castle. An actual, wood, stone, and brick castle, erected so tall that it casts a shadow over all that surrounds it. The drawbridge lowers down… resting across an actual moat, some twenty feet wide, leaving little room between the moat and the street. Two guards step through the giant door… and stand on either side of it, gripping one flag a piece… the left guard holding the American flag… the Right Guard ™ holding the new flag of Sinister City, which is a black flag, pre-made to be tattered and torn, with a skull adorned with a crown. Below the crowned skull there lies one simple word ;]


[A trumpeteer marches through the door… blasting out “You Know You’re Right” in perhaps the absolute worst rendition of a Nirvana song EVER…]

[Axl follows through… and shoves the trumpet player from the bridge, sending him flying into the moat… where he is eagerly ripped to shreds and feasted upon by a horde of hungry crocodiles. Blood spreads throughout the water…]

[Axl stands tall upon the wooden surface of the freshly crafted drawbridge, wearing a long, flowing, yet totally trashed robe, and a crown upon his head. He removes a black baseball bat from within his robe… and rests it down upon his shoulder.]

[He smiles.]

Axl: Studnuts. Yeah, you… JERKWEED! Guess what? YOU LOST!

[A little yellow kid with brown hair and a blue vest walks on screen… points at the camera… and cackles.]

Nelson Muntz: HA-HAH!!!

[He then walks away… as Axl scratches his head.]

Axl: Huh… don’t remember seeing that kid around town… ANYWAY. Stevie… I’m sorry, but it seems as though “The Mac” got Barack Rolled!!! 367 to 171?! Dude, Barack whooped…that…ASS!

[The little yellow kid steps back into the picture…]

Nelson Muntz: I reiterate… HA-HAH!!!

[…before once again taking his leave.]

Axl: … I seriously need to hire some better knights… the security around this place is crap. Just like McCain’s chances of winning, STEVE-O!

[I thought you said in another rant that you were a Republican?]

Axl: Uh…

[This is just a desperate attempt to get a match with Studs, isn’t it?]

Axl: Well… YES. But I deserve a GREAT match at MegaBrawl 2, and seeing as Great obviously won’t accept an invite… I GOTTA FIND SOMEBODY! I will NOT be the girl that doesn’t have a date to the prom!

[Girl? Shouldn’t that be boy? Unless you’re hiding something that, well, everyone’s pretty much known since your arrival here?]

Axl: … I’M NOT GAY!

[Besides, you’re, phff, “fired”. Of course, that’s apparently not stopping you from competing at October Surprise…]

Axl: WHAT?! What are you insinating?! Of course I’m fired!

[Then why are begging anyone and anybody for a match at MB II?

Axl: Er… I forgot! I’ve got a bad memory, man… A really… bad memory. … HONEST.

[What a pity. Perhaps one of THE biggest events in the history of our nation just occured… and you’re busy trying to scrounge up a match for a BoB On-Demand.]

Axl: Not just ANY BoB On-Demand, dammit! The biggest BoB On-Demand in our country’s history. An On-Demand event that will begin a HUUUGE change in how America perceives our nation’s greatest icon.

[… Ronald McDonald?]


[… PHFF, hahahahahahaha!]

[Nelson Muntz returns on screen, and begins to point at Axl, and presumabely laugh his fool head off… when Axl grabs ahold of the poor kids head, lifts him up above his own head, and tosses Nelson from the drawbridge, down into the waiting jaws of a croc. Axl then points down toward the moat…]

Axl: HA-HAH!!!

[Axl looks back into the camera.]

Axl: Ahem… excuse me for that, but there’s just something about kids that I simply detest. Something… evil. More evil than even I. And we just can’t have that, now can we?

Axl: Two weeks from now… I’ll have been in this company for two years. And for two years… two… long… years… I’ll have felt the greatest opression that any American citizen has EVER felt. An opression greater than that felt by chicks, jews and black dudes. An opression even greater than that felt by a black jew chick! Two years ago, I was a rookie. A rookie believing that he stood a chance of one day becoming the Only World Champion That Matters. And I did hold that title… I held that title, and I held the Swiss Army Title. And I held the leadership of the Hierarchy… the mayorship of this city, my Kingdom… and I held the distinction of being the only hair band leader in BoB history. But what happened to it all? I asked myself that earlier… staring into the mirror at a man wearing a rusty crown. I asked myself that… and the answers began to flood my mind.

The hair band? Gone. Because let’s face it, the only people who like hair metal are women over thirty… and those vile, dreadful gays.

The Hierarchy? Gone. Let’s face it, Kurt’s pretty much struck out on his own, which leaves me, Michelle, and my brother. Not much of a stable.

The Swiss Army Title? Gone… but more importantly? The Only World Title that Matters ; GONE. All because of that DAMN iAd…

Axl: But hey, I’ve gotta look at the silver lining, right? Grunge is sooo much better than glam. And why have a stable when the greatest brothers in wrestling can just form a tag team that surpasses even the nWo and DX COMBINED? And yes, there’s always the mayorship. I AM the King of Sinister City… and forever will be.

Axl: But the OWTTM… that is perhaps the greatest evidence that exists to point towards BoB’s opression of its very own Savior. Things are coming easy for today’s rookies… guys like Kobe Gyant, Stephen Hawking, and of course, that bastard, The Great. They’ve all entered BoB, and been HANDED the ball… while I? I had to scratch, I had to claw… I had to kill or be killed… and even then? Even then, I was left with nothing. Nothing but my girl, my bro, and the power over every Citizen in this city. But when it comes to BoB… well, I never was given a fair shake. And that ulimately led to me being fired… and disgraced. And all I have to show for it are the scars that still tarnish my gorgeous physique… the scars left by that CAD Sillicone M. Plants.

Axl: There are so many people to thank for the hell that’s been the past two years… The iAd, especially Steve Studnuts… Doc M. Plants… The Great… Death… Pigeon… and of course, the man… or should I say THING, that my bro faces at October Surprise ; American Panda. If it wasn’t for that panda, why… I would have never been fired in the first place! That’s right, you overgrown teddy bear! I KNOW what you did!

Axl: I know what you did… LAST SUMMER!

Axl: That’s right, I remember it like it were yesterday… And I bet you do as well, A.P. Remember? July 5th? UnFourGiven… it was the Beer in the Belly Ladder match. Now, I bet I know what you’re all thinking. What does A.P. have to do with the Beer in the Belly match, eh? I mean, you probably think A.P. couldn’t have POSSIBLY had anything to do with it… what with him not being in BoB and all, right? WRONG! It is a fact, a stone cold FACT, that American Panda… is actually Dr. THRILLA!!! You have all recognized by now that A.P. wears a mask? Have any of you wondered WHY? It should be obvious, but unfortunately, it takes a genius, such as myself, to unravel even the simplest of things for you people. The Truth is, underneath that mask, there hides the doctor we all THOUGHT fell into an Inescapable Pit of No Escape… but who in actuallity was none other than Garth Vader and Garth Maul’s father, Garth Sidious! That guy was just as ugly as Thrilla. Well… almost.

Axl: Thrilla took the case that was rightfully mine, fled the country for the past four months… and now? He’s returned, under a mask, and I BET you that when October Surprise rolls around, that bastard, Dr. ThrillAmerican Panda, will be the one to cash in the Beer in the Belly! And you want in on a little secret? He didn’t buy it on eTrey, like the big wigs in Brawler Tower over there in Bobford, Connecticut will tell you. Oh, no, no, no… He was HANDED the case, just like Hawking, Gyant, and The Great have been handed everything their entire stay here. And he was handed it by Trey Vincent himself! Because Dr. M Plants told him to! Because Steve Studnuts told him to! Because Death told him to! Because Pigeon told HIM to! It’s all a conspiracy I tell you! It’s all been a plot to keep me away from the OWTTM!!! It’s the Truth! It’s real! It’s a fact! It’s a DAMN fact!

[You really are nuts, aren’t you?]

Axl: You hush up, this doesn’t concern you! But what it all comes down to is this ; I’ve been held back from the OWTTM for too damn long. The only run I’ve had with it was a one month reign, which was cut short due to the MERE fact that the iAd cost me the title, and has nothing to do with me “trashing the title”, no matter WHAT you may believe.

[… But, uh, Axl? That IS the reason. That’s sorta why the iAd cost you the belt in the first place…]

Axl: LIES! All lies!

[But Axl -]

Axl: (covers ears and begins to scream) I’M NOT LISTENING, I’M NOT LISTENING, I’M NOT LISTENIIINGGG!!!

[Oh for pity’s sake…]

Axl: (uncovers ears) I’m not paranoid! I don’t have anger issues, I don’t take things too seriously… I’M PERFECT! And yet, the BoB administration, the BoB Substars, and the BoB FANS… what little of those there are… have all shunned me… and shackled me. I deserve better! I’ve always deserved better! I deserve better than anyone in this City… this country… I deserve better than anyone on the entire planet Earth!!! I AM A GOD! I AM A SAINT!! I AM A SAVIOR!!!

And it’s about fucking time somebody recognized this.

Axl: I have the intelligence to lead this city to becoming not only the capitol of Utah… but the capitol of the United States of America. I have the strength, the speed, and the sheer FORCE to lead the Hierarchy Brothers to a tag team title reign… and to become the OWCTM for a second time. And I have the talent, the ability, the skill, the power, and the unmatched EVIL-NESS… to lead BoB to becoming the most elite promotion in all of sports entertainment! BoB could be defeating WWE on a weekly basis right now… but they’re not. And why is this? Because they haven’t trusted me with the reigns… and yet, they do trust some fool like The Great-er Tot, some spineless coward like Silly Putty M. Plants, and some shiftless BITCH like Steven NumbNuts!!! They trust this lot of piss-poor piss-ants… but do they trust me? No…

But that will change.

I’ve never felt true acceptance in this company… in the entirety of my two years here, I’ve always felt like a second class citizen.

But that will change.

While others have risen to Greatness… While other have been deemed “Stupendous”, and been to made feel like a Gyant among men… I’ve felt like a man with no home. A homeless man if you will.


But that WILL change.

[Uhm, how exactly do you plan on changing it, if you really ARE “fired”? Hm?]

Axl: Uh…

[Yup, that’s what I thought.]

Axl: REGARDLESS! I’ve been told that I’ll never be on par with the other members of the roster for two full years… I’ve been told that I’m not on level with Studnuts, or M. Plants, or Death, or Trey, or even that idiot Great.

They’ve told me I can’t stand toe to toe with the main event players… They’ve told me I can’t defeat them. I’m here to tell them… To tell you ALL…

Yes. I. Can.

And yes I will…

Axl: And it all begins with October Surprise.

Axl: American Panda… if that is your real name. Change is coming… and it begins with you.

|th –

[Wait a second… if “Viruz” is facing American Panda…]



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A Heart Warming Scene

November 2nd, 2008


[Scatman is sat at a table covered in broken plate pieces eating raw mincemeat.]

Christian St. Christian: Even your eyes stink.

Scatman: I had to use my own glue to make the contact lenses stick.

CSC: What the hell are you eatng? Meat and treacle?

Scatman: There wasn’t any maple syrup.

[Scatman slurps down a glass of brown colored water.]

Christian St. Christian

Jerri Li: Hey cumwads, what the hell are you eating?

Scatman: Mincemeat and treacle, what’s wrong with that?

Jerri: Don’t you normally eat shit?

Scatman: Hey, I’m a wrestler now. I need protein to stay in shape.

CSC: The shape of a wet paper cup.

Scatman: You’re just lucky we aren’t fighting, I would’ve kicked your ass to the moon and back.

Jerri Li

Jerri: Someone knock me out, I can’t stand this bickering.

Scatman: Just hit yourself with a brick, that always works.

CSC: Scatman, can you be serious for a minute? I think I have an idea who Plants booked us against at October Surprise. Here, take this.

[He hands Scatman a piece of paper written on in pencil.]

CSC: That’s some strategy to use if it is who I think it is.

Scatman: I can’t read this!

CSC: That’s because you got shit all over it!

[He snatches the paper back angrily.]

Scatman: Dude, we don’t need anymore training anyway. The Great learns his stuff from Smackdown vs Raw, you can play Mario and I’ll just watch girls mud wrestling. It all works out!

[He jumps up onto the table and swings his hips with his hands on his head.]

Scatman: In fact, I’m gonna do some working out now.

[He runs off suddenly, dragging the tablecloth and plates off the table under his feet as he goes.]

CSC: He’s from another world completely.

Jerri: I’m splitting apart on the inside over this match. I booked you guys against each other because you wrestle like pussies and will be able to run-in on my match. I know my teammates are good, and Death is the grim reaper for crying out loud, but the beefed up iAd are the kings of sports entertainment.

CSC: I’m not running in on your match! You’re supposed to be a masochist, what the hell do you care if you get another beating from Studnuts?

Jerri: When I held that T&A XX title, I don’t know, it made me feel powerful. Like I was the king.

CSC: Don’t you mean queen?

Jerri: Whatever. Sarah’s in that match and she’s got my belt. She’s disgracing the legacy I made for it. She doesn’t even hit herself with weapons. I need to get it back!

[St. Christian puts his arm around her.]

CSC: Do you wanna go watch mud wrestling with Scatman? He’s probably turned over all the furniture in the room by now.

Jerri: Can I smash his head through the TV screen?

CSC: Anything you want.

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Viruz meets Viruz

October 24th, 2008
Comments Off on Viruz meets Viruz


[The camera is stationed outside the Castle of Evil. The VW Beetle (of Evil) pulls into the driveway… or courtyard… or… whatever.]

[The car door swings open.]


[The tape is ejected… flipped over… and reinserted. ‘Play’ is pressed.]



Michelle: Alright already, we GET IT! Can you just turn the damn thing off so we can go inside already?

??? : But Michelle! This motivational tape isn’t finished yet! Without it, I’ll never stand a chance against The Great!

Michelle: … You’re not fighting The Great! You’re fighting American Panda! And as long as you act like a complete and total idiot, I really don’t think Great’s going to want to be anywhere NEAR you, inside a ring or out!

??? : But after what he said about his little midget kid having more “greatness” in the toilet, than I do in my entire body, why… I oughta kill him!

Michelle: The Great?

??? : No! His midget kid! The little rat bastard… I oughta duct tape him to a bamboo tree and have that fuckin’ Panda claw his kid-sized larynx out of his goddam gullet!!! And if the Great tries to do anything about it, why… I’ll challenge him to a match! Yeah, THAT’LL teach him!

Michelle: You’re just trying to figure out a way to hussle yourself into a match with the Great, aren’t you.

??? : … Stay out of this!

Michelle: Hey, you ARE talking to me, right?


Michelle: … Me?

??? : … Oh. Well, since you asked. No, I’m not trying to hussle myself into a match with the Great. … And on an entirely unrelated note, do you know if the Great has a match set up for October Surprise?

Michelle: Yeah… he’s in a Snore Games match.

??? : Dammit… uh… how about the iMPLOSION! after that?

Michelle: There aren’t any iMPLOSIONs after that, atleast not until MegaBrawl… I’m starting to get the impression you may have not been completely honest when you said you don’t want a match with the Great…

??? : Well, how about at MegaBrawl? Is he booked?

Michelle: AXL!!! … I mean, er, uhm, ah… “???” !!! BOB doesn’t plan one WEEK in advance, let alone an entire MONTH! What do you think my daddy is, a competent Chairman?

??? : Alright, alright…

[The tape is played once again…]

Car Stereo: – AWN, HA-RISE!!! … Are we still recording this shit? … Yes? Crap, uh… HEY! You listening! Repeat after me.

Car Stereo: I Ham.

??? : I ham…

Car Stereo: Sofa King.

??? : … sofa king?

Car Stereo: We Todd Edd.

??? : We todd edd.

Car Stereo: Now say, very fast.

??? : I ham sofa king we todd edd.

Car Stereo: Faster!

??? : I AM SO FUCKING WEE-TAHDED!!! … Wait a dang blasted minute!

Car Stereo: Heheh. You say funny thing. : ^ )

[The tape is ripped from the stereo and tossed outside.]

??? : Remind me to never buy a motivational cassette from those damn Mooninites on 34th Street…

Michelle: Check.

??? : Hey, I’ve got an idea. Seeing as how the Great’s probably still going to be acting all “holier than thou” by MegaBrawl… which is something that only I have the qualifications for… I’m going to make a challenge when I head inside. A challenge that is going to change the face of pro wrestling as we know it!

Michelle: What, are you going to challenge Mick Foley for his share of TNA? Because I think his position there might be a step below your position as leader of the Hierarchy. And that’s saying alot…

??? : Well you’re in the Hierarchy too! As my girlfriend, you’re the QUEEN of the Hierarchy! So what does that say?!

Michelle: That I need to become better at choosing boyfriends? First Trey… then Pigeon… now you… Jesus W. Christ, it’s like I’m going further and further and further down the totem pole of bad taste!

??? : Oh you hush your mouth! Friggin’… China Girl… with your egg rolls and saki… and slumber parties! And – HEY! Wait a minute! You’re not supposed to mention things like me being the leader of the Hierarchy and being your boyfriend and being the mayor of Sinister City!

Michelle: I never mentioned you being the mayor of Sinister City…

??? : You might ruin the angle! The fans still think I’m… you know who!

Michelle: …

??? : What?

Michelle: Nothin’… Hey, you wanna go make that challenge now? Or do you want to bore me to sleep with another of your rants first?

???: >: ^ (

> > > moments later < < < [The front door of the castle opens, and in comes... Viruz?] "Viruz": Ahh, it's good to be home. ... Wait, what are those quotation marks doing around my name?! [Well, it's just...] Viruz: ... Bro? "Viruz": ... Uh... Fuck. Viruz: Why are you dressed up like me? "Viruz": Uhm... er... How do you know I'M dressed up like YOU? Maybe... Maybe YOU'RE dressed up like ME, eh! You ever thought about THAT, smart guy?! Viruz: Axl, how dumb do you think I am? "Viruz": ... Is that a trick question? Viruz: Seriously, why are you dressed like me? Did they have a sale on Hayabusa costumes at the Halloween department in Wal-Mart? ... Cuz, like, I might have tah check that out... "Viruz": Er... yeah! ... ["Viruz" grabs a trash can off the floor, dumps a bunch of crap out of it, and lifts it out in front of him...] "Viruz": Trick or Treat! Viruz: ... "Viruz": Heh... uhm... No dice, huh? Viruz: Nope. Now, put that trash BACK in the trash can, and let me know just what the heck is going on. [As "Viruz" shovels the trash back into the can, he begins to speak to... uh... Viruz. ... Confused yet? I know I am...] "Viruz": Well, ya see... uh... well, the thing is... ["Viruz" looks up at Viruz, and twiddles his thumbs a bit... Suddenly, a lightbulb appears to go off inside his brain. Oh, wait, no, Michelle just came in and turned on the lamp.] Michelle: Heyyy, guys. ... Huh, I can't seem to tell the two of you apart. Well, except that one of you seems to be in shape... while the other one of you is Axl. ... Oh wait, yeah, I can tell the two of you apart. "Viruz": I am NOT Axl! Michelle: Well... maybe if both of you whipped your cocks out, it'd make things a bit easier. Because, let's face it. Axl has a baby carrot dick!!! "Viruz": I DO NOT! Michelle: HA! "Viruz": I mean... he... HE doesn't... Viruz: Heheheh. Ahh, it seems as though my evil twin has prior knowledge as it pertains to the size of Axl's schlong! "Viruz": Shut up! I'm not gay! ... And neither is Axl! ... AAARGH! Viruz: Well, I'd like to stay and chit chat, but I have to get going. I promised Pigeon I'd meet him at McGreasyton's. He LOVES their McBirdSeed. Seeya later, Axl. "Viruz": I'M NOT AX- *door slams* "Viruz": AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! Michelle: Heehee. : ^ ) "Viruz": You really think this is funny, don't you? Michelle: Oh come on now, lighten up! Jeez Axl, you've gotta be the most uptight person I know. And you call yourself "grunge"? "Viruz": For the LAST time, don't refer to me as Axl in front of the camera! I'm VIRUZ, ok?! If anyone besides you and I find out my true identity, why... there's no telling what SMP would do! Michelle: You do understand that the camera is RIGHT there, recording all of this... right? "Viruz": Well... yeah. But I'm not refering to myself as Axl! ... So... Michelle: Sure... I think this entire idea has about as much credibility as the UnFed does as a wrestling company. But anyway, I'm out. I'm going to go catch Vi and Pigeon at McGreasyton's. I just LOVE their McHogFeet! "Viruz": EWW, What?! That's... you EAT that? Michelle: Well, I sure as hell don't shove it in my vagina! ... Although... "Viruz": GROSS! Michelle... just... leave. You and that IMPOSTER have done enough damage to my brilliant and masterful plan anyway! Now run along so I may issue the greatest challenge EVER! Michelle: ... "Viruz": Dammit... she was just there a second ago... No matter. *turns to the camera* World... Allow me to introduce myself! I AM... Viruz. As many of you may already know, I am set to face American Panda at October Surprise in the first ever Bamboo on a Bamboo Pole match. Now, it WAS going to be a Fish on a Bamboo Pole match, but I was told by SMP that pandas don't eat fish. Well, how do you know that was my intention, hmm, SIL?! Did it ever occur to you that I might not be aiming for a stipulation featuring the food that pandas EAT, but a stipulation featuring the food that stupid zoo keepers FORCE pandas to eat since they don't know any better? And let's face it, pandas are REEEALLY dumb animals that would more than likely eat their own shit if it were served with tartar sauce! Pandas are SOOO dumb that if you ask them what 2 plus 2 equals, they'd probably say something really DUMB like... 4! Pandas are sooo dumb that... uh... that they're really, REALLY dumb! And at October Surprise, I have no doubt in my mind that I'll defeat that dumb ol', stupid ol' Panda Bear. "Viruz": Because he's dumb. And stupid. "Viruz": Now, if I were my brother Axl, I might be afraid of American Panda. Not because American Panda in particular is frightening. Oh no, no, no. In fact, American Panda is perhaps THE least frightening member of the entire BoB roster, if not the entire world of wrestling PERIOD! Hell, even the GobbledyGooker is more terrifying than that overgrown sack of fur! But pandas in general... there's just something about them that gives my bro the heeby jeebies. When he was young, he was scared stiff by one of the vile beasts... and that's why he's dressing up as a panda for this year's Halloween party, here at the castle. Not only will he be overcoming his fear, but he'll also be able to get out of this crappy Hayabusa costume. ... That he ALSO wears. ... When I'm not wearing it. ... Because I'm Viruz. And certainly not Axl ... ["Viruz" shifts uncomfortably for a second, wondering if the viewers at home are stupid enough to have not caught on by now...] "Viruz": I am not wondering that! Of COURSE they're stupid enough to have not caught on by now! If they weren't stupid, do you think they'd still be wasting their time reading this rant?! ... I MEAN... [Sorry, "Vi". You want me to end this before you dig yourself into a hole?] "Viruz": No... I can still salvage things. People! I am NOT Axl! No matter what you want to believe, just remember... I AM Viruz... and I WILL be at October Surprise, ready to beat the ever loving tar out of American Panda. "Viruz": And then? At MegaBrawl 2? I have the challenge to end all challenges. Because I am challenging... BRAD PITT!!! Yes, Brad Pitt, the very same man who competed in the Nowhere City Brawl last year at "November in Nowhere"! The very same MATCH in which the Great made his debut during, costing ME... er, my brother... the Only World Title That Matters! Brad Pitt... from Oklahoma! The very same place that drove out me and my brother Axl! Brad, I'm going to make you PAY for... uh... being born in Oklahoma! After I'm finished with you, you'll know better than to... admit to being born there! And something very special... very important, shall be on the line! If you win... which you WON'T... I'll remove my mask, and reveal to the entire world my true identity! And if I win... which I WON'T... ... WILL! Which I will... then I will face the Great at the very first BoB event of 2009! [Suddenly, "Vi"'s cell phone rings. He answers it.] "Viruz": Y'ello? ... Oh, Michelle, I ... oh... Sorry honey, I'll let them know right away... Bye. ["Viruz" shuts the phone and pushes it back into his pants pocket...] "Viruz": Uhm... ok, Michelle just informed me that I'm not in charge of booking, she is. So I can't just go around inserting myself into matches with people who wouldn't want to be associated with me, even if it is through handing me my ass in the middle of the ring. Well... then it's a good thing I'm Viruz, eh? Cuz, heheh, EVERY one wants to be associated with my awesomely cool brother Axl! Hell, the Great's probably DYING to step into the ring with HIM! Ya know? Right? Am I right? ... *cough* So... anyway. "Viruz": ... "Viruz": PITT!!! You! Me! MegaBrawl 2... in the first EVER Cinco Cell Slaughter! Five cages, stacked one on top of the other! If you win, the mask comes off! If I win? Uh... I get to marry Angelina Jolie! ["Vi"'s cell rings again... he answers.] "Viruz": Hello - ... [Screaming is heard on the other end... "Viruz" tries to keep the phone away from his ear, as he winces...] "Viruz": Y... Yes dear... Sorry about that... No! Of course I still love you! I... Yes dear... I'll tell him. ... Bye dear... ["Viruz" shuts the phone and places it back into his pocket...] "Viruz": Uhm... Brad, I think I'll have to renig on that challenge... atleast until I can think of some sort of prize I can win... Something that won't get my ear chewed off... "Viruz": But now, it is not time for Mega Brawl. Now it is time for October Surprise. NOW it is time for American Panda... And Panda, remember. I AM... Viruz. I AM... the hax0r extraordinaire. I AM... the l33t-ness of Execution. I AM... "Viruz": ... the infeXion... “… and the infeXion is spreading …”


“Viruz”: WAIT A DAMN MINUTE!!! Michelle said she was going to McGreasyton’s to meet with PIGEON?! That sunnuvabitch is supposed to be locked up in the dungeon! Who set that freak free?!

[Michelle walks in.]

“Viruz”: MICHELLE!!! Who let Pigeon free?! How did he get to McGreasyton’s?! TELL ME!

Michelle: Whadya mean?

“Viruz”: You know EXACTLY what I mean! You told me you left to meet Pigeon at McGreasyton’s, didn’t you?

Michelle: … Uh… Nope, don’t remember saying that. … Definitely not. You must have been day dreaming.

“Viruz”: But…

[Viruz walks in.]

Viruz: Hey yo, bro! Me and Michelle –

Michelle: AHEM.

Viruz: Whoops, excuse me. Michelle and I, just returned from McGreasyton’s.

“Viruz”: Viruz! … IMPOSTER Viruz, you remember telling me that you two went to eat lunch with Pigeon… don’t you?

Viruz: Uh…

[Michelle jabs Viruz in the side with her shoulder.]

Viruz: Ouch! I-

[Michelle stares at Vi.]

Viruz: Er… that is to say… No, no I don’t. I don’t remember that at all.

“Viruz”: … Huh. Well… alright. But I’m going to check the dungeon, just to make sure…

Viruz: NO! I mean –

Michelle: What Vi – … Well, what the “imposter” Viruz means, is that… You don’t trust us?

“Viruz”: Well… not really…

Michelle: >: ^ ( Do you want me to leave you? Is THAT it?! I thought this relationship was built on trust!

“Viruz”: What gave you that impression?

Michelle: How could you, Axl?!

“Viruz”: Well, I- HEY! I am NOT Axl! How many times do I have to tell you that! But that’s beside the point. The point is –

Michelle: The point is you don’t trust us!

“Viruz”: But… I…

Viruz: Axl… Viruz… Whatever you want to be called, you SHOULD trust me! I AM your brother after all!

“Viruz”: So… you’re Axl?

Viruz: … Sure.

“Viruz”: Haha, you’re gay!

Viruz: …

Michelle: So… you trust us now?

“Viruz”: Well… I guess. But when October Surprise rolls around, I want Pigeon out there by ringside, in his shackles, so I can keep an eye on him at all times. Well… all times that I’m not whuppin’ Panda American’s fruit booty!


“Viruz”: Yeah, you’re Axl. You don’t SAY fruit booty, you ARE one! : ^ P

“Axl”: …

“Viruz”: Now, Michelle, pop this motivational CD into the stereo. It’s the new and improved version of that old casette I got from the Mooninites. Hopefully it’s alot better…

[Michelle inserts the CD into the stereo and presses play.]

Stereo: Repeat after me. I Ham.

“Viruz”: I ham…

Stereo: Sofa King.

“Viruz”: Sofa king…

Stereo: Interesting.

“Viruz”: … interesting?

Stereo: Now say, very fast.

“Viruz”: I ham sofa king interesting.

Stereo: Faster!

“Viruz”: I AM SO FUCKING INTERESTING! … Hey, yeah, I am! I AM… so fucking interesting!

Stereo: Now listen, iMPLOSION 13 ;

Viruz: Umkay. I want to fight American Panda in a “Fish on a Bamboo Pole” match. A fish would be suspended on a bamboo pole, and the first competitor to retrieve it would win. Just thought it’d be a stupid gimmick to try and make things interesting.

SMP: Now, does the word “interesting” mean completely retarded in that brain of yours?

“Viruz”: …

Viruz: Ha! Get it! You said “I am so fucking interesting”, and to you, “interesting” obviously means “retarded”! The new and improved version must be in Axl-ese!

“Viruz”: …

Viruz: Ahh, sorry bro. Maybe you should stop trusting those Mooninites. Anyway, catch ya later. I promised I’d meet Pigeon at the bowling alley. Later.

“Viruz”: …

[Viruz heads for the door… opens it… and just as he’s about to depart, “Viruz” tears the stereo off the table, and heaves it at Viruz’s back… but the stereo ends up nailing the door, just as it’s slammed shut. The stereo busts apart, sending bits of broken plastic scattered across the floor. “Viruz” fumes with rage, and storms off, headed for his room. Michelle shakes her head, and walks toward the couch. She plops down… kicks her feet up on the table… and turns on the television.]

Television: This is Sinister City TV, the ONLY channel in Sinister City! Welcome to our 24 hour “Knitting with Bernie” marathon! Grab your needle and thread, and be prepared for the ride of your boring, mundane life! It’s Quilt-Tastic!


|ha-rise, chick-awn|

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October 23rd, 2008
Comments Off on Zombieproof


Katie Death, a zombie who dresses in a cheerleader uniform, was washing the dishes with blood in the sink when her husband, Death, walked into the room. God’s Hitman opened up the refrigerator, looked around, and then slammed the door shut.

“Why is there never any food in this house? I have Snore Games coming up in just a couple of weeks, and I need to bribe The Great with food apparently so he won’t do a job for the either Steve Studnuts, Trey Vincent, Sarah “The Jobber Slayer,” Seth Harker, or Dr. Silaconne M. Plants apparently now, too. And I still haven’t figured out what to bribe my other teammates with. Let’s see…write this down. Let’s see, for Trable…how about some fried chicken, watermelon, and grape juice? For Jerri Li? Hmm. Some Jagged Metal Krusty-O’s and battery acid. Kid Pirate probably likes booze. Rum. Hell, how about some peg leg polish as well. Did you get all that, Katie?”

“Braains!” Katie roared.

“Why do you make everything so hard except right here,” Death said, performing a crotch chop in his wife’s direction.

“Braaaains!” Katie replied.

“Is this mansion not big enough for you? What about all those dead people stacked in the meat locker? Where’s the respect for Death?”


“Did you at least dry clean my wrestling cloak.”


“Son of a…” Death started before pounding his bony fist on the countertop. “I’VE HAD IT UP TO HERE, KATIE!”

“Brains brains brains brains brains brains!”

“What does this have to do with my yacht? Don’t I deserve a little ME time? I work my fingers to the bone…wait, they already are bone. I work my bones to the…you know what I mean! I work non-stop for the Big Guy who created this universe. He created you for ME, not me for YOU! You’re just a bit player.”


“It’s ironic. I figured I would’ve been the one to kill this relationship…”


“You want out? That’s FINE with me!”

Katie Death shuffles away to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. She grabs a framed picture of Zombie Mr. Fantastic off her dresser.


Meanwhile, outside, Death has his scythe and begins bashing a trash barrel with the handle. After several seconds of clatter, Death looks up and notices a zombie eating somebody’s face in the street. Both are starting at him curiously.

“Help me?” the victim gurgled out, blood oozing from everywhere on his (or her?) face.

“Rar?” the zombie queried.

“Sorry, Face Eater. Go about your business.”

The zombie continued eating the victim’s face as Death threw his trash back into the trash bucket. One of the plastic bags ripped and several cans fell out with a dull clatter as they hit the driveway. Brains In A Can. It was eerily silent — as long as you ignored the dying screams and disgusting face-eating noises in the background.

“And she can’t even recycle on top of everything else?”

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Scrabble Dabble Doo

October 8th, 2008
Comments Off on Scrabble Dabble Doo

The Great

(The Great and his wife are sharing an intimate “dinner”, complete with generic soothing background music, candles, and an obvious lack of romance. The Great is gingerly poking at The Great’s food with The Great’s fork.)

The Great’s wife: What wrong, dear? You’re not eating.

The Great: What is this stuff? It’s making The Great’s belly ache.

The Great’s wife: Canned brains! I saw a commerical for them the other day and thought I’d heat some up. You don’t like them, do you?

The Great: Perhaps The Great would like them if The Great was The Great Zombie. The Great wants a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. Honey baked ham. Mashed potatoes and homemade gravy—

(The Great drifts off to a state of consciousness where he could be mistaken as The Great Zombie. He sits there, shoulders slumped, head cocked to the side, blank stare. Drooling.)

The Great: Tuuuuuurkeeeeeeeeeey—

The Great’s wife: OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

(The Great is startled back to reality)

The Great’s wife: Is that all you ever think about is yourself? What about me? I slave around here all day, I have needs! And you bought this! What did you buy me?

(She shoves a Scrabble board at him from across the table.)

The Great: The Great had to purchase that. The Great has to train.

The Great’s wife: Oh yeah, for that stupid wrestling promotion that never pays you? To win what? A SCRABBLE GAME? What’s that have to do with WRESTLING?

The Great: The Great needs to win a Scrabble game to determine the best entry for a Swiss Army Belt title match in the Brawlers on a Budget. It could lead to a huge pay date—- for The Great.

The Great’s wife: Do you really expect me to believe THAT? You haven’t made a DIME since you started there!

The Great: That’s nonsense. The Great has most certainly made a dime. At least a dime.

The Great’s wife: Not only are you a money earning laughing stock at wrestling, you take your frustrations out on the boys! Why did you ground Nick and Johnny?

The Great: Huh? The Great did not ground anybody.

The Great’s wife: Then why have they been moping around here for weeks?

The Great: Something to do with XBOX and plutonium, or the fact that those didn’t arrive in the mail, The Great speculates.

The Great’s wife: WHAT? WHAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaT? NICK! GET DOWN HERE! I’ll find out RIGHT NOW what you’re talking about!

(Nick, their 10 year old son, appears at the table. He appears saddened.)

The Great’s wife: Nick, why did your father ground you?

Nick: Huh? I’m not grounded.

The Great’s wife: Then why are you acting like you’ve lost your best friend?

Nick: I did. Well, I didn’t really lose him ’cause he never showed up.

The Great: See?

The Great’s wife: That proves nothing! What was your friend’s name, dear?

Nick: XBOX 360.

The Great’s wife: Oh—

Nick: Hey— (pointing at the Scrabble board) what’s that?

The Great: It’s a game.

Nick: What kind of game? Where’s the controller?

The Great: It’s a board game called Scrabble, son.

Nick: Board game? That’s lame! It doesn’t even hook up to the t.v.! How do you play it?

The Great: You form words using letters and get points.

Nick: Spelling? A spelling game? THAT’S SO FREEGGIN’ GAY!


Nick: AW MOM! What’d I do? MOM? WHAT’D I DO?

The Great: The Great thinks you overreacted.

The Great’s wife: My son will not talk like that.

(The Mother in Law walks into the dinning room at looks at the Scrabble board)

The Mother in Law: SCRABBLE? I love Scrabble! I used to be a champion back in the day!

The Great: Really? The Great might have finally found a reason to like your mother!

The Great’s wife: You’re a pig!

The Great: A lucky pig perhaps—(he looks at his Mother in Law) You want to play?

The Mother in Law: Why yes! I thought you’d never ask! I’ll show you some words that nobody thinks are even words! Like that one time when I won a regional final with “fez”. Z is a twelve pointer, you know? Ah, the memories—

The Great: Don’t talk, please. Just play. The Great will take notes.

(They scurry off to another room.)

The Great’s wife: What about your supper! Aren’t you going to eat?

(offscreen The Great): The Great can’t clean that plate. The Great is stuffed. Feed it to the dog.

The Great’s wife: FINE! See if I break my back cooking for you again anytime soon.
(She begins calling the dog) Come here, girl! Here, girl! *whistles* Come here, Crystal! I have some dinner for you!

(A scraggly white poodle walks into the scene. The Great’s wife sets The Great’s plate on the floor.)

Dog: *whimper*

The Great’s wife: Awww, eat it already for crying out loud!

Dog: *whimper*

The Great’s wife: Spoiled brat! I suppose you want some Scooby Snacks?

Dog: *wags tail*

(Somewhere in a haunted mansion where the gardner is plotting to get away with something that would have worked if it wasn’t for meddling kids.)

Scooby Doo: Scrabble Dabble Doo!

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Winner, Winner, Turkey Dinner!

October 6th, 2008
Comments Off on Winner, Winner, Turkey Dinner!


[We open on a sign: Reb’s Turkey Farm. The camera pans left to reveal several turkeys wandering around in the darkness, along with a taller figure hooded figure. Why, it’s none other than Death. He is creeping up on one unsuspecting turkey eating some feed in the dirt. Suddenly, Death dives.]

Turkey: *Gobble gobble*

Death: Damn it. I’ve never had to kill an animal before.

[Death dusts himself off.]

Death: Why couldn’t BOB afford that helicopter and the shotgun. This would’ve been so much easier.

[Slowly, Death creeps toward the turkey again. Dives!]

Turkey: *Gobble gobble*

[Misses again.]

Farmer: Excuse me there, fella. What ya doin’ to my turkeys?

[Death turns around to see the farmer.]

Death: Well…if you must know, I’m trying to kill one of your turkeys.

Farmer: Really? Why? What did they do to you?

Death: Well, that one right there won’t let me kill it for starters…

Farmer: Are you trying to kill it, or, um, lay down with it.

Death: What? No! No, man. I kill things with my finger.

Farmer: Oh, are you Death himself?

Death: Guilty as charged.

Farmer: Well shoot, son, why didn’t you say so! You need a shotgun, Death.

Death: My company can’t afford a shotgun. I work for Brawlers On a Budget. And I really need to kill a turkey before October Surprise. I need to bribe The Great with it.

Farmer: The Great?

Death: Yeah. He’s this wrestler. Talks in third person. Apparently, he’ll job for food, so I’m hoping he WON’T job for food as well if I promise to cook him a turkey dinner.

Farmer: Um…Death. Now don’t kill me over this, but uh…why don’t you just go to a store and buy a turkey? They sell ’em frozen. And heck, if you can kill anybody with your finger, you could just kill anybody who tries to stop you for shoplifting.

Death: …

[Death scratches his hooded skull. ]

Death: Fuck!



[Death and the farmer turn around at the odd sounds. A dark figure is attacking the turkey!]

Death: Hey!

??: Turkey…brains….uhhhhh….

*Shuffle shuffle shuffle*

Death: Zombie Mr. Fantastic! How dare you!

Farmer: What in the? He ate the turkey’s brains!

[The turkey’s legs suddenly begin jerking.]

Farmer: Turkey zombie!

[The farmer runs away.]

Turkey Zombie: Gawwwwwwb. Gawwwwwb.

[Death grabs the zombie turkey by the legs.]

Death: Well, The Great. I hope you like your turkey, zombified. And I hope you will learn to trust me when we team up as the Greatful Dead at October Surprise against the iAd and Sarah. And as far as the Scrabble things on the next iMPLOSION goes. I’m most definitely not going to bomb like the Sin City Icons did yesterday! Bwahahahaha!

Turkey Zombie: Gawwwwwwb. Gawwwwwb.


[The zombie turkey flies out of Death’s bony grasp.]

Death: What the hell was that? Great, now I have to go find another dead turkey to bribe The Great with. Thanks, Reb. I hope Katie knows how to cook one of these things.

Farmer: There’s nothing wrong with this ‘un. Just spit out the shrapnel.

[Death throws the turkey and walks away.]

Turkey Zombie: Gawwwwwwwwwwwwwwb. *twitch* *twitch*

Caption: THE END


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September 19th, 2008
Comments Off on THE REMOTE OF DOOM! Part 2


The Great

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

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

Nick: Who’s that woman, Dad?

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

Nick: What?

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

Nick: I don’t get it.

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

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The Great”: Touche.

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

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

Little Johnny: Touché. How difficult was that?

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

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

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

Nick: Aw man! I’m telling mom!

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

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

Nick: Yeah!

Little Johnny: Damn.

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

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

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

Little Johnny: Ha! She called him The Rack.

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

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

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

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

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

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

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

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

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

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

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

Watch Angelina X’s Transmission!

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

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