Posts Tagged ‘Trey Vincent’


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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Fiddy Dollah

October 2nd, 2008
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Axl: …

Michelle: What is it?

Axl: I need fifty dollars.

Michelle: Well, sitting on your ass, watching “Sanford and Son” reruns isn’t going to help…

Axl: … Fuc-

> > > an hour later < < < Viruz

[We open to Viruz’s room, where he’s sitting, cross-legged, in his Super Mario Bros. pj’s, tapping away at his trusty laptop… his favorite possesion.]

Vi: A few more minutes, and I’ll have cracked into the U.S. voting system! I’ll be able to successfully change ALL votes for McCain and Obama… to votes for my favorite candidate ; BILL!

Vi’s Imaginary Friend, Lester : Bill Clinton’s not running. His wife tried, but…

Vi: Not Bill CLINTON! Bill GATES! Duhh~!!!1 You’re SUCH a n00b, Lester…

“Lester” : Hey, atleast I’m not the one who’s so desperate for a friend that he resorts to having an imaginary buddy well into his late 20s…

Vi: … Fuck off, Lester.

“Lester”: Yeah, yeah, that’s all you ever say… Man, you annoy me, and I don’t even EXIST…

*knock, knock*

Vi: Who’s there?

Axl: Candy gram.

Vi: Oh get in here ya jackass!

[Axl does so.]

Vi: You’ve been watching too many old SNL repeats…


Vi: *sigh* What are you doing in here? Make it quick, because I’ve got something very important to do on my laptop.

Axl: What, jack off to Jerri Li’s last rant? That video of that asian chick getting gack poured on her got you all hot and bothered, didn’t it?

Vi: NO!!! … Now, that one with the sucker, on the other hand…

Axl: Hey, lemme see your laptop real quick, I’ve gotta check my e-mail!

Vi: No! Dude – *Axl yanks the computer away* – HEY! Dammit bro, gimme it back!

Axl: Hey, what’s all this election shit for? Dude, this is lame… Meh, I’ll just exit out of this boring junk.

Vi: Wha- NO!!! You son-of-a- … JUST OPEN ANOTHER TAB!

Axl: Man, they call ME a hot head…

Vi: But I have a REASON to be pissed off! You’re ruining all that hard work I just put into getting our nation’s greatest hero elected as president!

Axl: Greatest… hero? … So you were trying to get ME elected as president?! Awww, shit, sorry dude… DAMMIT! … This is all your fault!

Vi: I- … WHAT?! MY fault?! How the hell is it MY fault?!

Axl: You shoulda known better than tah trust me with your stupid laptop! Hell, my computer’s in constant ‘safety mode’, just in case I accidentally delete the hard drive!

Vi: … You CAN’T delete the hard drive. … It’s HARDWARE.

Axl: … Well see, I didn’t even know that, how do you expect me to work this fancy shmancy thing?

Vi: *grabs the laptop back* From now on, keep your DAMN hands off my stuff, ok? Seriously… and FYI, you’re NOT this country’s greatest hero! Bill Gates is!

Axl: … Who?

Vi: … Just tell me what you came in here for.

Axl: Well, I was wondering. Do you still have some of those Wii-Station 360s lying around?

Vi: Uh… well, not here, but I know where the planes dropped them all. Not too far off from those huge heaps of E.T. games for the Atari 2600 they disposed of years and years ago…

Axl: Huh. Well then, have I got a proposition for you!

Vi: I hope it’s not another pyramid scheme…

Axl: Even better! Picture this… The RE-LAUNCH… of the X-Station Wii60!

Vi: … Welp, good luck with all that. Meanwhile, I’ll be working on my laptop…

Axl: No! I mean you and I! Together! Rebuilding the empire of the greatest system to ever exist in the history of HISTORY!

Vi: … The DreamCast?

Axl: … NO! The X-Station Wii60!!! Jesus mother fuckin’ CHRIST, get on the damn ball man!

Vi: Yeah, there’s the hothead we’ve all come to know and loathe…

Axl: You and I, the Hierarchy Brothers, putting to together a truly awesome work of art! Painting a masterpiece! You and I… giving life to the Wii60, so it may rise from the ash, and fullfill its destiny as the forerunner of the System Wars! Because a system with all three of the current generation systems’ titles combined… has GOT to be better than all three of the current generation systems combined! Or atleast better. … Or maybe worse.

Vi: Believe me, it was worse before… far worse… and it’s not going to get any less worse. It could only get worse…er.

Axl: So, you call up the people who dumped all those consoles in New Mexico or Arizona or France, or wherever that place was, and you have them start putting those things back on the shelves buster, because SOON… in about… 10 days to be exact, the second first game to come out for the Wii60 will debut!

Vi: Ugh… alright, for the simple fact that, other than screwing with the election results, I have absolutely nothing to do… I guess I’ll go along with this retarded plan. Give me a few days to design a game idea, and I’ll run it past ya, ok?

Axl: Uhm… nah, I already know what I want you to make.

Vi: … But dude, I’m the guy who MADE this system… I planned everything, and I think –

Axl: Sorry man, I really don’t have time to put any thought into this. I just need to make this thing as quick as possible, sell one copy for fifty bucks, and hand the cash over to Trey, so –

Vi: Whoa, wait a minute… Trey? … Does this have anything to do with BoB?

Axl: Uhhh… nope. Can’t say that it does…

Vi: So who’s Trey? … Say, you don’t have an imaginary friend too… do you?

Axl: … What?

Vi: SOOO, about this game… what’s your idea?

Axl: Well, I was thinking… Total Non-Stop Action Wrestling has a game, right?

Vi: They do? … What’s Total Non-Stop Action Wrestling? Is it another WWE brand? Jeez, first they destroy the legacy of ECW, and now they’re coming up with lamer sounding show titles than Sunday Morning Chloroform…

Axl: Total Non-Stop Action Wrestling is the only televised wrestling company other than WWE.

Vi: Oh… you mean they’re actually on TV?

Axl: Yeah… on Spike?

Vi: … Dudley?

Axl: NO! Argh, forget it, just think of it like this. They’re a wrestling company, and they have a game. And they’re a wrestling company that someone like you, whose entire life has consisted of nothing but wrestling and gaming, has never heard of. So seriously… how hard can it be to make a successful wrestling game?

Vi: I dunno… seeing as I’ve never heard of ’em, I’m not so sure if the game WAS successful… in fact, I’m pretty sure it’s a safe bet it wasn’t…

Axl: Well, ok, let me rephrase that. How hard can it be to sucker SOMEONE into buying atleast one copy? Maybe even a whole stack! Door stoppers are always in high demand… Higher than crappy wrestling games, anyway…

Vi: Well… ok. What kinda wrestling game ya want?

Axl: I’m thinking… TNA : iMPLOSION! .

Vi: … You said TNA already has a game out… wouldn’t you rather make a BoB game? Besides, couldn’t this “TNA” sue?

Axl: Nooo, see, this TNA is ‘Total Non-Action Wrestling’! The other TNA’s game is ‘iMPACT!’, while this game is ‘iMPLOSION!’. iMPLOSION! is BoB’s tv show on G5… dude, you know that!

Vi: Meh, I never pay much attention to what’s going on in the world around me. My life on the computer is good enough for me.

Axl: *smacks forehead* Just re-shelve the consoles, make the game, and ship those games out A.S.A.P.!

Viruz: So much for this being a “partnership”…

Axl: Hey! We’re still a team, man! I’ll be busy, sitting here at the castle, on the couch, watching “Sanford and Son” reruns!

Viruz: … But… how does that help the team?

*door slams*

Viruz: … Fuc-

> > > a day or so later < < < > > > close-up of newspaper headline :
– Local man buys crappy wrestling game for fifty dollars. Sues developer for fifty dollars. –

> > > close-up of a quote from purchaser :
“I lost five hours of my life to this game’s stupid story mode! Come on, the guy is beat up in the desert, and is forced to undergo plastic surgery, by some clod named Sillicone M. Plants. Every character you end up with has gazongas out to the moon! AND YOU CAN’T PLAY AS A CHICK! Who on God’s green Earth is gonna play a game where every guy ya play as ends up with fucked up orangutan titties?! It STINKS!”

[We find Axl holding the paper, with his fists gripping the pages… shaking with anger.]

Viruz: So… kinda sucks that was the only guy who bought the game… eh?

Axl: … FUC-

> > > several hours later < < < [Vi returns to the house, after being dressed up as American Panda, and "beaten up" by his brother. He holds an ice pack to his forehead walking into the house... But as soon as he's out of Axl's sight and sound, Vi quits the act, and drops the ice into a cup... pouring himself a glass of beer. He chugs it down in about three seconds flat, before heading into his bedroom.] Vi: Thank God I saved that copy of the instructions to hack into the voting system... I might be able to finish my work after all... Vi: Hold on... where's my damn laptop??? [Vi looks throughout the room, but finds no trace of the computer... finally, Axl steps into the room. Vi stares at him... And as he sees a crisp fifty dollar bill in Axl's hand, it dawns on him.] Vi: YOU BASTARD! Axl: Huh? Dude, chill-ax! Don't have a cow, bro. Vi: You... you... AGGHH!! You SOLD my laptop! For fifty dollars!!! Axl: ... *looks down at the fifty dollar bill in his hand* Ohhh, this? Uhhh... yeah... yeah, I guess I did. But, DUDE, when I kick Trey's ass and take that beer back? And then, when I cash that sucker in, and take what's always rightfully belonged to me?! Why... we'll be rolling in loot! You'll be able to buy, like, TWO laptops! Vi: ... Axl... get out. Axl: But - Vi: GET OUT! Get out... get out... GET!!! OUT!!! NOW!!!!!!!!~!!!11 Axl: I - [Viruz grabs something from off the nightstand... and swiftly tosses it toward Axl, who wisely shuts the door before the object manages to connect with him. Instead, it connects with the door... It's a framed picture... the frame of which shatters, sending glass and cardboard across the room. Vi rushes over to the photo, as it floats gently to the floor... As it lands, Viruz picks it up, and stares at the front...] [A picture of Axl, Viruz, and their parents... with Axl resting an arm over his brother's shoulder, and the two of them lifting the "devil horns" hand gesture. Vi stares at the picture in his hands for several seconds...] [... before tearing the picture to shreds, and allowing the bits of paper to join the scattered glass and cardboard.] Vi: Maybe Pigeon was right... |cut|

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Black On Black Violence!

September 26th, 2008
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Kobe Gyant

Kobe Gyant stands in front of a podium. A throng of press corps surrounds The BOB’s MVP to hear what Kobe has to say.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

America, I have decided to postpone my campaign to become The BOB’s ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS.

Cameras flash.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

That’s right. You heard me. Insteadah, I am going to devote myself to go to Sin Citay, and save BOB from the greedy tycoons on Electric Avenue. The Brawlers on a Budget are desperately in need of a ratings bailout. I am the change The BOB needs. So, I have agreed to appear at Total Non-Action Wrestling iMPLOSION! and take head-on the most pressing need in our country. Black on black violence. Uh. Frankly, we need more of it. So that’s why I will go to iMPLOSION and defeat Black Chair. Thank you. Questions?

<--Mike Monroe-->

Hi, Kobe. Mike Monroe, Brawlers On a Budget. Um. Did you bring all these mirrors here to make it look like I’m more than one person? What’s up with this?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

I think that, at this point, some type of clarity is needed on this issue. And when I am the ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, I will work non-stop to deliver the type of change that The BOB is crying out for like a baby that’s been dumped by an teenager down a sewer hole. It’s time to bail out that baby and wipe the doodoo off her face. You don’t hate children, do you, Mike?

<--Mike Monroe-->

Quick followup: huh?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Again, I think that Acting BigBOSS Seth Harker, Vice President Trey Vincent, and Head Writer Michelle, the BOB leadership, needs to decide where we want to go as a federation. Do we want to go forward to the past? Or go onward into the present? I say, we should move back to the future. And the future is Kobe Gyant. Next?

<--Mike Monroe-->

Kobe, I

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Mike, Mike, please don’t dominate this press conference, let someone else ask a question. Yes, Mike?

<--Mike Monroe-->

I understand you’ve also agreed to participate in Snore Games at October Surprise. Who will be the fifth member of your team?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

It is my intention to be in Snore Games at October Surprise. Obviously, the biggest priority is making sure that I’m on the show so people will order it and send us money. But it’s also important to let everyone know that the 4 Steelchairs are flatter than Va-Jay-Jay Dillon. Seriously. The woman’s concave. Her nipples are innies. Her chest is like a black hole, you know. Maybe Stephen Hawking should investigate that instead of getting title shots while I feud with chairs. Anyone else?

<--Mike Monroe-->

Did you have sexual relations with Va-Jay-Jay Dillon?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Let me make this clear. I (slams fist on podium). Had (slams fist on podium). Sexual (slams fist on podium). Relations (slams fist on podium). With (slams fist on podium). That (slams fist on podium). Woman (slams fist on podium). Many times. Let’s just say if she were a poor country, I’d be a missionary in it, you know…The game was on, and her mouth was the board, you know…I took a swab of the DNA in her cheek, but it wasn’t with no Q-tip, you know…

<--Mike Monroe-->

Is she carrying your child?

<--Kobe Gyant-->

Maybe, Mike. Maybe my unborn fetus will be my mysterious fifth teammate. Now how’s that for a heel turn? I can see it now. Kobe Jr. rips off the umbilical cord, wraps it around her bladder, makes her pee her pants, she slips in her own puddle, and break her leg. “Me So Horny” hits the speakers and that baby exits through the beef drapes to a standing ovation from the crowd! I like it a lot, Mike Monroe. Count on it! At October Surprise! Wouldn’t be the first time.

<--Mike Monroe-->

Pretty sure it would be.

<--Kobe Gyant-->

I had a life before BOB, you know… Anyway, press conference over. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go help Al U. Minium-Ladder, Woody Table, and Acoustic Guitar get ready for Snore Games.

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September 24th, 2008

Steve Studnuts

~~~Steve Studnuts is sitting at his computer, contemplating if he should play Jonathan Stewart instead of Michael Turner in week 4. Connie Lingus walks up.~~~

Connie: Steve? Shouldn’t you be doing a promo for your match with Death instead of worrying about your fantasy football team?

Studs: The fuck? What do you think is more important?

Connie: I guess the promo since I’m asking you about it.

Studs: NOTHING is more important than fantasy football. Ya dig? Besides, I can beat Death any day of the week. He can never beat me, the jerkweed has no heart. Heh.

Connie: Is that a bad joke about him being a skeleton?

Studs: I didn’t think it was that fuckin’ bad. Besides, I have a lot to prove this week. This is a cage match, on an !MPLOSION! card. What the fuck is that? I’m the GRAND SLAM ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS wrestling the number 1 contender, a former ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, IN A CAGE MATCH? For FREE? Why is this not an On-Demand match? I’m in demand for On-Demand!

Connie: Oooooookay.

Studs: On top of that, I’m extra motivated to stomp the fuck out of Death since somebody in the locker room recently called me a primadonna.

Connie: Somebody called you Cher?

Studs: Huh?

Connie: Diana Ross?

Studs: What the fuck? No, bitch…. not “PRE” Madonna. P-R-I-M-A-D-O-N-N-A.

Connie: I’d agree with that.

Studs: What-the-fuck-ever. ANY-way…I can’t believe the boys up front didn’t think Studnuts/Death/Cage wasn’t a draw enough for some Send Us Money action. It’s an insult. So, instead of mailin’ it in like I planned on doin’, I’m gonna beat the skin off Death.

Connie: How is that possible? He doesn’t have skin.

Studs: Alright then. I’ll rip his fuckin’ guts out.

Connie: No guts, either.

Studs: I’ll poke his eyes out and skull fuck him to death.

Connie: What eyes? And what does humping his skull have to do with wrestling?

Studs: I’ll kick his fuckin’ ass!

Connie: But he doesn’t have an ass. Technically.

Studs: GATDAMMIT! Can’t I get a human fuckin’ bein’ to talk trash about? How about this? I’ll break all his readily accessible and visibly obvious bones!

Connie: Doesn’t quite have the ring of “kicking his ass.”

Studs: Good point. Regardless, I’ll make the suits sorry for offering this TOTAL DOMINATION on free television. A beatin’ this bad, you should have to pay to see, then look away and waste your money due to the sheer brutality of it.

Connie: I thought Trey and Seth were in charge of setting up the matches.

~~~Studnuts ponders this for a minute~~~

Studs: Do you think Trey is fuckin’ with me?

Connie: Well, he had the chance to keep Death from coming after you, and here you are wrestling Death in a cage match.

Studs: Yeeeeeah. And Trey, or Seth, had to sign this fuckin’ match, right?

Connie: I’m sure you guys have a plan.

Studs: I haven’t heard of a plan. Trey’s fuckin’ with me, I know it. Before long he’ll have me wrestlin’ a gatdamn grizzly bear like they did in the 70’s or in an angle with a cheap Cryme Tyme knock-off.

Connie: Panda.

Studs: Huh?

Connie: Panda bear. There’s a panda bear in your wrestling league.

Studs: You’re fuckin’ kiddin me, right?

Connie: Don’t you look at the other promos?

Studs: Duh? Why?

Connie: You should, before Thiefer Sutherland steals your spot.

Studs: Thiefer Sutherland? Pffft. That’s the most ridiculous fuckin’ thing I’ve ever heard. Cool name, though.
Thiefer Sutherland… some fucker named that stealing my spot? What’s next? Clay Aiken finally admittin’ he’s fuckin’ gay?

~~~Steve goes back to his computer screen.~~~

Studs: Fuck it, I’m leavin Turner in there. WHAT THE FUCK? What dumb motherfucker dropped Mendenhall with Parker out this week? And who drops Roethlisberger for…. who THE FUCK is J.T. O’Sullivan?

Time to hit the waiver wire, bitches!


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Would you…

September 10th, 2008
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Steve Studnuts

~~~Steve Studnuts’ reflection is imaged in a mirror. He appears to have just gotten out of the shower and is getting ready to shave. LOOK! He’s applying shaving gel! Mystery solved.

He hits “play” on a nearby CD player and “Goodbye Horses” by Q Lazzarus begins to fill the room. Click below to get the full experience. His following actions are not to say he is homosexual or a pupae transvestite. ~~~

~~~Back to Steve’s reflection, he’s now shaving and staring intently at himself~~~

Studs: Would you fuck me?

~~~He shaves his right cheek, which appears as though he just shaved his left cheek.~~~

Studs: Would you? Fuck me?

~~~He shaves his chin, which still looks like he’s shaving his chin.~~~

Studs: I’d fuck me so hard. I’d fuck me…. so hard. Heh.

~~~There’s a loud knock on the bathroom door.~~~

Studs: (startled) WHAT?

Woman’s offscreen voice: Steve? What are you doing in there?

Studs: I’m fuckin’ shavin’. Whadda ya want?

Woman’s offscreen voice: There’s a FBI agent at the front door. It’s a woman. You fucking her too?

Studs: Connie, chill out. She’s probably gettin’ a jump questionin’ me about stompin’ the shit out of The Great and Pete Trable at “Runnin’ on Empty” and killin’ them deader than fried chicken.

Woman’s offscreen voice: Oh sure! She looks like a lesbo, or at least a bi-sexual. And I know how you dig that.

Studs: (whispers to himself) I dig. Ya dig? (normal voice) Tell her I’ll call her later! I’m busy!

Woman’s offscreen voice: You tell her! Jizzabelle and I are going to Chippendale’s to see their new skinny dancer!

Studs: What the fuck? Okay, I’ll call her when I get time tonight. But before you go, could you call Trey and tell him not to take it personal when my Sun Valley Studs of the FOBL fucks up the Sin City Icons this weekend? I think he put some money into the team and is like a majority owner or somethin’.

A crushin’ defeat to the Studs could be the catalyst of a festering resentment that could lead to a main event showdown at MEGABRAWL III, especially since the Icons are favored to win. After Week 1, the Studs are ranked first and the Icons are number 2. Funny how imaginary fantasy football imitates real life fantasy wrestling. Shit, did I say that out loud? *ahem* Would you call him for me?

Woman’s offscreen voice: I’m not calling him! Every time I do he always begs for sex! It’s pathetic.

Studs: Yep, that’s my buddy Trey. Speaking of “buddies”, hey Plants, how about gettin’ your dumb ass on here and postin’ some promos so I don’t have to carry this fuckin’ tag-team all the time?

~~~He splashes on some Beast Aftershave® because it makes his smeel manely.~~~

Studs: I feel… like a jungle rat. The Great. Pete Trable. You faggots are goin’ to die. Don’t feel bad, at least for you, Great… you’ll no longer have to put up with your naggin’ bitch wife and those snotty, free-loadin’ kids. And Trable, you’ll finally be put out of your horrible white rapper gimmick misery. Just don’t come back as Zombie Pete Trable, okay?

On second thought, that’d be an improvement. So long as you didn’t rap. Especially if Axl gets ahold of your character again. Ya dig?

~~~He winks at his reflection~~~

Studs: (talking to his reflection) Let’s go pack that gear bag for Runnin’ On Empty. It’s time to bring sexy back to BOB.

~~~He turns off the bathroom light. Darkness.~~~

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There’s No Booze In Hell

September 3rd, 2008
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[A bar? But not just any bar. This is the bar where Death got his big break in the wrestling business. He appeared in his first wrestling promo at this bar many years ago. OK, “big break” is probably pushing it, considering the promo appeared in Metal Edge Wrestling. But you have to start at the bottom, right? Anyway, it looks even more piss stained and decrepit than it did then. The bar area is empty, except for one tall figure wearing a cloak. A bony hand snatches a bottle of beer off the bar. After guzzling it for several seconds, Death’s custom-made cloak is soaked with beer.]

Death: You know….

[Death knee lifts the bar and notices he’s all wet.]

Death: Sonofa! Who stole my skin! BWAHAHAHAHA!

Bartender: Alright, buddy. I think you’ve had just about—

[Death put a bony finger against the man’s throat. Throat cancer. Instant death.]

Voice: The bartender’s dead! LET’S RIOT!

[Sounds of stampeding drunks and crashing furniture.]

Death: Uh oh.

[8 hours later. We return to the scene. Bodies are down everywhere. Looks like Death was busy.]

Death: Me? They did it to themselves. Well, except for that old guy there. He just really annoyed me. Well, now I know why they call them riots. That was hilarious! Although, now there’s not a drop of booze left in the place! Pure hell, right, Trey? It’s like your worst nightmare. A bar without beer. That’s exactly what it’s gonna be like for you at Running On Empty, buddy. Mr. Sports Entertainment Icon. Mr. Franchise Player. Mr. Vice President in Charge of Everything.

Death: Everyone knows I was the brains behind the Skull & Bones Society. And with my newest buddy, Kurt Angel, you know, that guy who beat you for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS before he ascended to Heaven, a.k.a., Action Wrestling? We’ve formed the Skull & Stoned Society. Theoretically. Not that we’ve worked out any details, but I’m pretty sure we’re cool. I’ll have to check with the guy who runs this place. And I’m not talking about YOU, Trey. You’re just a puppet. And it’s a good thing I’ve got the right to bear arms, cuz I’m shooting, baby!

Death: Anyway…you’re scum. Yadda yadda yadda. Trey, after you die, you’ll be sent to sports entertainment hell, where you’ll be forced to watch CircularAnswer Rants for all eternity. I have more talent in my one finger than you have in your whole body. I have a license to kill. Seriously…

[Death digs in his cloak.]

Death: It’s expired? Oh man. Trey, you and my license are gonna have a lot in common! You’re both gonna be expired! Yeah, come and arrest me for killing without a license, copper!

[How much did you have to drink, Death?]

Death: And Zombie Mr. Fantastic! Quit calling my zombie cheerleader nurse wife! For the last time, Katie’s not interested! *Shakes his bony fist in the air*

Death: And Studnuts, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you. Wait, what was I talkin’ about?

[Death tips over. Fade to blackout.]

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Luke Out Below

August 26th, 2008
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Kurt Angel

[Nighttime. A smoke-filled room. Kurt Angel was watching “Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle” when all of a sudden the lights went out.]

KA: Did I just go blind? Oh wait, no, I can still see the movie.

[Kurt grabs his phone and dials a number.]

KA: Hello, phone company? I’d like to report a power outage. My lights just shut off by themselves. Well, duh, if I knew their phone number, I’d call them. Hello? Hello?

[Kurt dials some other numbers.]

KA: Hello, Pizza Hut? I’d like to report a power outage. No, this isn’t a prank call. No, my name isn’t Dave. It’s Kurt. Kurt Angel. What do you mean now you know it’s a joke? It’s not a joke, it’s so not a joke. Hello? Darnitall!

[Kurt grabs the phone’s antenna and, well…locks on a modified Angel Lock.]

KA: I’ll make you tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!

Phone: *Bleep*

[Kurt interprets the “low battery” warning as a submission and drops the move.]

KA: Whoooo!

[Kurt prances around in celebration.]

KA: Who da evil? I’m da evil! The man who pinned Steve Studnuts at Power is Stolen. Not false, not false. If not for the most corrupt Generic Referee on the planet, you would be looking at the number one contender for the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. Studnuts. Vincent. Harker. The iAd will go down someday. And when you do, you’ll be the ones on your knees before Axl! And not in a gay way, either, busters!

KA: Instead, I’ve got to face Luke. Luke who? Mr. Luke-Hoo himself. Luke Warm. And mister, that plate glass window is gonna feel like the best day of you’re life after I get through with you at…Neil Patrick Harris is the man! Hey, the light went out? Where’s the phone?

Phone: *Bleep*

KA: I better get a ladder and replace that light bulb.

[Kurt gets a ladder and climbs up.]

KA: Come on, bucko!

[Kurt falls off the ladder.]

KA: Ow.

[After a few seconds of “selling the bump,” Kurt’s back up quickly. He unscrews the bulb and belly-to-light bulb suplexes it?]


KA: Ow!

[Need a light bulb?]

KA: Whoa. The walls are talking to me again!

[Yes, yes. Check the table there for a new light bulb. And here goes Kurt up the ladder again. Amazingly, he gets it in. Then, the light goes out.]

KA: The hell?








[Lights on.]


[Kurt is laying at the bottom of the ladder, surrounded by bits of a broken Cheap-Ass™ Guitar. Who attacked Kurt? Who who? Who who? Who attacked Kurt. Who who, who who. I really wanna know…]

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Sports Entertainment Conquers All

August 16th, 2008
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Kevin the Pyromaniac

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

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

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

Bruce: Gross, there’s lumps in it.

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

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

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

Bruce: Sports Entertainment conquers all.

Kevin: Isn’t it ‘love conquers all’?

Bruce: Nah, just the blues.

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

[He does so.]

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

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

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

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

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Dew Drops

August 4th, 2008
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Kevin the Pyromaniac

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Kevin throws the mannequin at Jasmine to catch.]

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

[Kevin grabs the mannequin.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Insert Subject Here

August 3rd, 2008

Steve Studnuts

~~~Becoming BOB’s first and only GRAND SLAM CHAMPION™ would undoubtedly come with some perks. Steve Studnuts has learned that winning every major championship in BOB on the same night has made him ENDORSEMENT GOD™!
Well, sort of~~~


~~~The camera starts at a shapely pair of feet attached to a reclined pair of muscular legs. It slowly, seductively pans upward over the calves, knees, then thighs. Continuing upward, it’s finally revealed the owner of such gams: STEVE STUDNUTS!

Studs: Now, I don’t wear panty hose, but if Beautymist can make my legs look this good, imagine what they can do for those pocked up, cellulite riddled fuckin’ fat sticks you have.

Director: CUT! You can’t say that, we’re trying to SELL these things! And you’ve stretched them all out anyway! We can’t shoot this, the hose has runs in them!

Studs: What do you expect? My legs are five times fuckin’ bigger than Namath’s.

Director: GET OUT!


Studs: Listen, fuckers. Buy your fuckin’ plane tickets at priceline-dot-com, or I’ll come over to your house and beat your fuckin’ ass. Oh yeah, get your hotel reservations from there too. Or then, after I kick your ass, I’ll fuck your wife. Well, if she’s a looker. If she’s a two-bagger, I’ll just kick her ass like I will yours.

Director: CUT!


Custom made wrestling trunks, (black), with yellow SUPERMAN logo. $85


Custom made wrestling boots (black patent leather) with 6” black leather tassels adorned from the top of them. $450


Purchase of expensive call girl to bribe VPiCoE, solidifying chances of becoming GRAND SLAM CHAMPION. $5, 650.



Being surrounded by gorgeous women because you’re a semi-famous professional athlete. Priceless.


OFFSCREEN VOICE: Isn’t that the American Express® catchphrase?

EDITOR: I don’t fucking know. I don’t really care. What are they gonna do, SUE ME?

CAPTION: A deserted island. Deserted except for cameras, extras, a sexy blonde (this is NOT to mean Nurse Heidi), The Flunky, and STEVE STUDNUTS. And possibly the bones of Jimmy Hoffa (NOT SHOWN).

Sexy Blonde: Mr. Studnuts, we’re on a deserted island and it’s virtually impossible for you to offend anyone with your vile language. So, what’s your honest opinion of Axl and his Hierarchy?

Studs: They are very talented. I’ve never met such fine, upstanding gentlemen. They’re among the top professional wrestlers in the business. And totally heterosexual.

Sexy Blonde: (she’s smiling, with a sparkling light reflecting off her over-the-top grin. She’s holding up a pack of ORBIT GUM®) Orbit Gum, providing a fresh clean mouth – NO MATTA WHOOT! (4)


~~~Two boys are looking at cereal bowls.~~~

Kid 1: I’m not gonna try it, you try it.

Kid 2: No way. I’m not gonna try it.

Kid 1: Hey, let’s get Stevie! He’ll eat anything.

~~~Cut to Steve Studnuts~~~

Studs: Not unless it can grow hairs.

Boys: EWW!

Studs: You ain’t gettin’ me on a statutory.

Director: CUT!


~~~Steve Studnuts is seen wearing a caveman outfit.~~~

Studs: In the morning, when I….splash it on…. it makes me feel like a jungle rat. Umm, cat.

Director: CUT!


Studs: In the morning. I splash it on, it makes me…. feel like a jumbled cat.

Director: CUT! Good grief! Let’s go to the alternate set!


~~~Steve Studnuts is in a wrestling ring while two attractive women spray “sweat” on him from bottles.~~~

Studs: When I splash it on, it makes me smeel manely.

Director: CUT! Smeel manely? It’s SMELL MANLY! Can you see that, Steve?

Studs: Huh?

Director: The cards? Can you see them?

Studs: You think this stuff makes you smell manly? I don’t.

Director: Who cares? Just read what we write on the dummy cards!

Studs: Dummy cards? Yo, I might be… what you call….punchy, but I’m no dummy.

Director: CUT! I’m scrapping this whole thing! We’ve wasted a lot of time and money, because YOU CAN’T READ!

Studs: Heh.


Studs: I wear Isotoner gloves, because I take care of the hands that sometimes take care of me. Ya dig?

Director: No! That’s not in the script! What are you talking about?

Studs: You know, sometimes I gotta flog the dolphin a bit. Play old tug-o-war with Cyclops from time to time. Not a lot, just in emergencies.

Director: CUT!


~~~A nightclub full of wild boars. An attractive woman walks in and has a seat at the counter next to a boar. The boar leaves her side and walks to the bathroom, then up to a condom dispenser. A condom falls out and the boar takes it in his mouth and walks back into the bar.~~~

Director: CUT! This is the part where we “transform” the boar into a civilized human being, responsible enough to choose a condom! Where’s that wrestling actor guy?

Stage Hand: That’s him, sir.

Director: That’s a fucking pig!

Stage Hand: Exactly.

Director: CUT!



~~~Steve Studnuts is seen standing in front of a “TOWER OF DOOM” seat drop shaped like a giant penis.~~~



Director: Okay listen, we know your reputation. Remember, please… our slogan is: “If you don’t look good, we don’t look good.” Can you manage it?

Studs: Sure.

Director: Are you POSITIVE?

Studs: Of course.

Director: ACTION!

Studs: If you don’t look good….

~~~There’s a brief pause, everybody except Steve Studnuts waits in nervous anticipation.~~~

Studs: …. It’s because you’re a fugly bitch and this gatdamn shampoo sure as fuck won’t help.

Director: Oh, FUCK ME! I KNEW IT! CUT!


Studs: Death, I see we’re matched up at Power is Stolen, pickin’ random partners for a tag-team match. I’ll assume the NGETFA, umm, management is gonna have to change that- I AM good enough to fuckin’ fight alone. Ya dig? I’m the tag-team champs by myself, totally destroying the logic behind the tag-team’s “title”. So to speak.

ANYway, are the titles on the line? It’s doesn’t matter really. Pick whomever you want, go ahead and dial a number. I’m pickin’ the most losery loser of all time to prove I can beat you with anybody.

He’s the biggest choker in BOB history. He doesn’t even RP anymore. He can’t win titles here unless he buys them or gets lucky in a triple threat match. How do I stand a chance with a fuckin’ lame like that as a partner, huh?

Why, because I’m Steve Studnuts, you bony mother fucker. And you’re not.



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