BOB -- You Can Be Anything Ya Set'cha Mind To, Man (pt.1)

[THE Mac Bry v2]

::: #ooc: the following is a reprinting of the very FIRST Axl VanHalen promo... ever. Followed by a buncha other Brawlers on a Budget related shenanigans. BTW, to those reading this who followed the link from Twitter... thank you. This forum was created for my one-person parody project. It is now no longer with us.

May it, as well as parody e-wrestling, rest in peace.

The Crue is the 'now'.
But this was the 'then'.

Enjoy.:::


:: Saturday, July 21st, 2006 - 9:33 p.m. ::

~ Location: The Aero Sall Dome in lovely Tesla, Ohio ~

[The scene opens upon a sold-out stadium in Tesla, Ohio, the home of many great rock legends... like... uh... Tesla for example. ... Maybe. But don't quote me on that one... On the stage, before a mass of his very own fans.... he stands. Holding an axe guitar, wearing no shirt, and a pair of black leather pants as his hair flows freely in the air... with his girl, by the name of Rose, on drums... He is the master and controller of all that is rock music... He is the monster of rockdom... He is the ruler, king, and president of all that is Rocktitude... he is...]

Rott N. Dealer: AXL VAN HALEN!!!

[Suddenly, Axl wakes up from his dreams of stardom... to wake up into the world he knows. The world... of... uh... not stardom. Anything BUT stardom. Sure, Axl has a band... well, him and his girlfriend. And yeah, he's released an album... which nobody bought, but the fact still remains he DID release it. And he did win a Grammy for 'Best Frisbee for Cheap B@stards'. But Axl... well, he wants more. So... so much more. He wants the fans to pack the building to see him wail on his guitar and rock the microphone... he wants them to pump their fists in the air, to scream, and shout, and lift lighters in the air! ...]

[But in real life, Axl is lucky if he can secure a gig at a kid's birthday party. Usually the bratty 8-year-old son of his agent, Rott. Rott sits in his office chair, staring coldly at Axl.]

Rott: AXL!!! Stop falling asleep while I talk to you!

Axl: Chill out dude, everything's radical.

Rott: Axl, I bet you didn't hear a word I just said... did you?

Axl: Duuude, of course I did. You were like, "Axl rules! Axl, we love you! I wanna have your baby Axl!"

Rott: Axl... you were having one of your dreams again... weren't you?

Axl: Uhh... no? Look dude...

Rott: And quit calling me 'dude'! My name is-

Axl: Dude, I know what your name is dude. It's... uh... Rose?

Rott: Axl... that's your girlfriend's name.

Axl: Oh yeah... Uhm... Emilio Estevez?

Rott: That's a movie actor, Axl... He was in the Mighty Ducks. Do I even LOOK like Emilio Estevez?

Axl: Is that a trick question, Rott?

Rott: THERE, you just said it!

Axl: Said what?

Rott: My name!

Axl: ... Rose?

Rott: ... No, you jackass!

Axl: Ohhhh, ok. So your name's You Jackass!

Rott: GOD D@MMIT!!!

Axl: Oh, now I remember!

Rott: You do? For the love of God, please let it not be-

Axl: Emilio Esteve-

Rott: NOOO!!! Ugh... My name... is Rott. Rott N. Dealer. I'm your agent. I've BEEN your agent for the past 5 YEARS!!! Because SOMEONE up there hates my guts so much that they made it so the only soul in this world I can swindle... er... persuade, into letting me be their agent, is... you. But the matter at hand is this; I've been searching for ways for you to publicize your second album so more than just my 8-year-old son will buy it.

Axl: Wait... your 8-year-old son bought my first album? He has a job? That's like, so totally gnarly...

Rott: Well, actually, I bought it... but he does have a job. He basically supports the family, since this job doesn't really pay for more than his monthly vaccinations...

Axl: Vaccinations?

Rott: Rabies. He competes in dog fights.

Axl: ...

Rott: So, as I was saying, I've been looking for a venue for publicity. And I've finally found one. You know how you always said that you wished you could have gotten into the wrestling business? Welp... I've gotten in contact with this man by the name of Big Boss. And he's told me about his company, a company by the name of Brawlers on a Budget. And knowing you, I know you don't want to spend much time... well... you know... training, exercising, dieting, and well... actually wrestling. But BoB isn't anything like those OTHER wrestling companies. In other words... none of the other roster members can wrestle either. So basically, it's an even playing field. And since you'll just be there to promote your CD, the whole 'not getting paid... at all' thing won't bother you so much. And the best thing about it is, their franchise program airs on Comedy Central. And with that kind of publicity... THAT kind of publicity... Chapelle Show style publicity... South Park style publicity... Reno 91- ... er... Chapelle Show style publicity, I'm tellin' ya Axl, this next album of yours? It's going to be numero uno jack. It's guaranteed.

Axl: Hmm... dude. I think you have a deal, bro. And this camera dude over here? I've got something I need to get off my chest.

[Axl turns to the BoB camera... before taking his shirt off. He takes Rott's water bottle, to which Rott is a little ticked off about. Axl pours the water all over his chest and hair, before tossing the bottle across the room. He pulls a pair of grey sunglasses from his back pocket, before slipping them on... And as his chest glistens in the window's light, and his hair glistens in... well, the window's light as well, we can see him staring intently into the lens. ... Well... we COULD see him staring intently into the lens, if he didn't have his sunglasses on. Axl leans against the office wall... and speaks.]

Axl: Hey dudes... this is Axl VanHalen, your most excellent rock god. Some of you may recognize me from my first album 5 years ago, "Diaper Thrash". But come this... uh... when was it Rott dude?

Rott: To Be Announced.

Axl: Oh, right. Ok. But come this To Be Announced-

Rott: Ugh...

Axl: - I, along with my girlfriend and most reeking of awesomeness babe of all time Rose, will be releasing my second CD, "Sex, Drugs, and Pizza". Together, Rose and I are known as Gwartellica. And BoB fans, you righteous dudes and dudettes are going to be able to see us live, on the most excellent... uh... Rott, what's the name of this company's show?

Rott: Sunday Morning Chloroform.

Axl: Totally. Sunday Morning Chloroform. That's right Axl-holics! The Messiah of Rock and Rollah will be debuting THIS Saturday, live on Sunday Morning Chloroform, only on pay-per-view!

Rott: Saturday... ? And no, Axl, it's not a ppv. It's just a normal, regular tv show on Comedy Central.

Axl: History Channel?

Rott: ... Comedy Central.

Axl: Discovery Channel?

Rott: Comedy Central.

Axl: The Travel Channel?

Rott: I said Comedy Central.

Axl: Cheap Car Rental?

Rott: ... What?

Axl: Monthly Dental?

Rott: D@mmit, I'll say it one last time - Cooommm... eeedddyyy... Ceeennn... traaaalll.

Axl: Sci-Fi?

Rott: GET OUT!!! Get out, and don't come back in until I get your contract papers ready! You're driving me up the wall!

Axl: Ok, ok, chill out pops. Don't get your panties in a bunch, jeez...

Rott: OUT!!!

[Axl hurriedly walks out of the office, leaving Rott to slam his head down on his desk in frustration, and bury his face in his arms.]

Rott: Somebody... Somebody just kill me now...

- Party On -
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Finally... the Rock... has come BACK... to BoB!!!
========



:: Wednesday, July 4th, 2007 - 11:11 p.m. ::

~ Location: Slapyamama Field - Nowhere, Oklahoma ~

[It was a bitter cold night... a chill in the air. The bleachers were filled with the most rabid of Nowhere Knucklehead fans, and the smell of stale popcorn wafted about. The game had drawn on long and hard, and had run for multiple innings. Finally, the coaches of both teams decided that it would be best to come together with their teams and devise strategy. Therefore, an intermission would be in order... which could only be filled by the vocal stylings of that evening's half-time performer. None other...]

[... than the Metal God himself; Axl... Van... Halen.]

[The Fourth of July. A night of Independance... freedom... small, cheaply constructed souvenir flags. The 4th has always stood to envelope the best of what America is all about. Through the thick... the thin... This country has come together... held strong... and stood proud. And-]

Axl: HELLO DETROIT ROCK CITAAAYYY!!!~1

[... and here's Axl. Jesus, ask a guy to narrate for ya, and this is the the respect ya give 'em...]

Axl: Detroit-

Fan in the third row: IT'S NOWHERE!!! Dammit, you were BORN here, for christ sakes, you'd THINK you'd know the name of the place!

Axl: I love you too, man! Folks, as you know, Brawlers on a Budget was recently cancelled by Comedy Central. But, thanks to some great maneuvring by a few of my lawyers, I've kept the rights to the Swiss Army Belt! ...

Fans: ...

Axl: ... Which means I'm still the champ!

Fans: ...

Axl: ... Which means... The Champ... is STILL... here!!! ... BOOYAH!!!

Fans: ...

Fan in the third row: When's intermission over?!

Axl: ... So yeah, I'm feelin' pretty good, especially as tonight is the greatest night of them all! As you all know, unless you're stupid, twenty two million years ago, Hulk Hogan, Sergeant Slaughter, Hacksaw Jim Duggan, and Chuck Norris killed the evil terrorist scum of the Iron Sheik, Nicholai Volchov, Mr. Fuji, and Arnold Shwarzennegar! And as the dead bodies of Adolf Hitler, Saddam Hussein, and Cobra lay rotting on the ground, Kurt Angle freed the slaves, and discovered America!!! And while the pilgrims landed on the moon for the very first time, as the mighty U.S. looked on from their living rooms, Andy Kaufman single handedly won the Vietnam War for this great land! And THAT'S... the TRUE story, of How the Grinch Found Jesus!

Axl: So, on this sacred night, the Eve of Kwanzaa Day, I would like to share with you all, MY rendition... of the National Anthem. Everyone, please welcome, my personal assistant, as well as drummer for GwarTellica... Tifa... Bon... Joviii!!!

[Suddenly, a burst of red, white, and blue fireworks go off in the sky, and a platform descends from the heavens, with drums set up upon it, and Tifa manning the set. Tifa is adorned in a flowing, sleeveless trenchcoat, bearing the stars and stripes. She lifts her drumsticks into the air, taps them together a few times, as Axl screams into the air...]

Axl: America... are you READY?! 1... 2... 1, 2, 3, 4!!!

Axl: Ohhhhhhhhhhhh say, can you see, the dawn of a new destiny...
Engines revving, crashing into the oblivion of you and me...
And the damned falling into a pit of eternity!!!
With the skeletons SCREAAAMING!!!

Axl: For the rock is still there, and the roll overtaking...
For the rockets of love, as the monster is waking...
For the bombs falling down... my hair is on fire...
The twilight of a sun soaked desire...

Axl: Oh say, will you look in to these eyes...
Look into my heart... look into the skies!
Look at yourself... you miserable slave!
Look at this free... this home... of the...

Axl: BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY-YAAAAY-YAAAAY-YAAAAY- ....

Axl: ...

Axl: ... ave. PLAY BALL!!!

[As soon as Axl finishes up, the announcer comes to the microphone.]

Announcer McNouncerton: Excuse me, I'm sorry, but unfortunately, the game has been cancelled.

Axl: WHAT?! Folks, are you listening to this guy?! Are you dudes and dudettes gonna let this jerk cancel the game like that?!

Announcer: Well, I'm sorry, but the players... coaches... AND referees have all taken their leave.

Axl: So?! Let's turn this baby into a concert! I'm just gettin' started here!

Announcer: I'm afraid not. You see... the game has been cancelled on account of everyone leaving before the final decision. INCLUDING the fans!

Axl: ... Oh. ... Damn. So... they could smell your breath from all the way over there too?

Announcer: ...


---------------------
1 week later...
---------------------


[It is the 11th of July. Ever since driving an entire stadium out with his atrocious singing, Axl has decided to instill a bit of confidence back in himself. So, we open to find Axl performing at a nearby children's birthday party...]

[The kids are seated in front of a small stage, where a clown is performing a few remedial acts of clown-ship. Jizzy the Clown lifts up a long, yellow balloon, before beginning to try and tie it around into the form of an animal... only to have it pop as soon as he does so. The kids in the audience seem to be bored out of their minds... until smoke rises from the stage... and a tower of hot pink light shoots out from either side of the platform. The bit of circus music playing in the background suddenly skips a beat... before screeching to a halt. Axl's latest single, "Drill Me, Fill Me, Bill Me, Kill Me", roars onto the speakers, and the kiddies roar to life with cheers and yells of giddy joy... for really no other reason than the fact that somebody's coming out to replace Jizzy... and NOONE could be worse than Jizzy. ... Right?]

[The center of the stage rises, carrying the frightened Jizzy with it... and emerging from a hole in the stage, is none other than that Leader of the Rock-O-Lution himself, Axl VanHalen, carrying a shiny, black Les Paul. Axl lifts the guitar into the air with one hand... clad in ripped jeans, black sandals, spiked bands on his throat and wrists, around five or so piercings on both ears as well as a ring through his left nostril... and of course, his chest is bare, and glistening in the summer sun. His nails... painted black. His hair... long, flowing, and dyed an icey blue.]

Axl: Kids... it's showtime!

[Axl reels back, and slams the guitar into Jizzy's skull, dropping him to the floor of the platform, with pieces of wood splintered about. Axl grabs Jizzy by his poofy clown hair, before ripping him off the ground and heaving him off the stage and into the crowd of children... who body surf the unconcious clown all the way to the pool, where they toss him in.]

Axl: ROCK ONNN!!!

Kid in the third row: You better be better than Jizzy!!!

Axl: I love you too, kiddo! I'm here to give all of you fine children a taste of what some REAL entertainment is like! Now, I'm going to be needing an assistant from the audience, so, if there's any lovely young gals here that would like to hit a drum randomly with no beat whatsoever... come on down!

Tiffany JonBovi: Hey mister! I'm like, totally great at hitting things! I hit my brother all the time! See! [hits boy sitting next to her]

Bon JonBovi: Hey!

Axl: Hey, nice shot! You've got the job! Now, come on up, and I'll let you all have a little sample of my greatest hit yet!

[After a bit of setting up, Tiffany sits behind a couple of bongo drums, and Axl has his microphone ready...]

Axl: Ok... 1... 2...

[Suddenly, a buzzer is heard. The camera pans a bit to find a red 'x' lit up in front of a desk set up before the stage. Sitting at the desk we see a thin, British boy, who has just buzzed out our hero. Sitting next to the British lad, with their 'x's untouched, is a cheery looking girl, and a black boy with a stoic look, and tough exterior.]

Sammy Cowell: Dreadful. Absolutely, positively dreadful. Appaling. My grandmum could sing a better tune out of 'er arsehole. Disgustingly horrid. Paula?

Paula Abdul-Jahbar: I LOVED IT! WHOO! YOU GO GIRL!! WHOO!! I WANNA HAVE YOUR BABY!!! WHOO!!! Buy my latest 'Best of' release, only at a Wal-Mart bargain bin near you! ... Whoo!

Randall Jackon: [looking stoic... looking tough...] ... I want my mommy! MOMMYYY!!!

Axl: Oh come ON! There's critics EVERYWHERE!!! THAT'S IT!!! I have GOT to get back into wrestling. I'm just not making any money with singing alone. Tifa, let's go. I have a few calls to make.

Tiffany: ... Tifa?

Axl: Oh... yeah. Right...

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on

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Fire... Death... and Donuts. - parto uno
========



:: Thursday, July 12th, 2007 - 11:11 a.m. ::

~ Location: JizzyWorld - Nowhere, Oklahoma ~

[JizzyWorld. The home estate of one; Jizzy the Clown. Jizzy is a clown who stays in character. From the minute he wakes up, to the minute he goes to bed, Jizzy is prepared. Prepared to perform. Prepared to make men, women, and children smile. Prepared... to do it.]

[And do it he does.]

[On this fine afternoon, a young boy, with spiked, blue hair, somewhere in the age range between 5 and three quarters and 5 and four quarters, has walked up to the gates of JizzyWorld... peering inside as his eyes fill with wonder... For JizzyWorld is a place of wonder and disbelief. Part mansion... part amusement park, the 3 hundred and fifty acre estate is a magical land of make believe. And young Timmy McJellin' is captivated by it all. Looking on with eyes filled with-]

Timmy: Wooooow!!!

[... Ahem. As I was saying, looking on with-]

Timmy: I nevew sawed such a pwace in AAALL my wife!

[... Looking on with eyes filled with glee and joy and-]

Timmy: Imma go inside and see aww da bwootifull thingies I could see! Hee-yah I comed!!!

[Ugh... no respect, I tell ya, no respect at all. Well, anyway, Timmy shoves the gate open, and steps inside. As he makes his way to the front door, he reaches into his pocket... and pulls out a LIGHTER?!?!?!]

Timmy: By da way! Aww da kids at schoo-wull caww me: Timmy the Pie-woh-manic! Wutt duff it mean? I DUNNO!!! [tries to start the lighter, but can't seem to] ARGGG! I'M PISSED NOWWW!!!

[Timmy continues to try and start the lighter, but as he tries, the door swings open... and out comes Jizzy. Only instead of dressed up as he was for his previous appearance in an Axl rant, this time, his poofy clown hair is replaced by long, rainbow-streaked hair with a black fedora stitched on top. And instead of his usual colorful clown get up, Jizzy is clad in a black suit with white shirt, a surgeon's mask over his mouth... and a single, sparkling glove on his right hand. His face paint... whiter than ever. His big, red, clown nose? Gone, and without it, we can see his small, entirely too thin nose...]

[Jizzy looks down at the boy...]

Jizzy: A-tee-hee-hee! Well little boy, what brings you to my house? Are you feelin... Bad? Ready for a... Thriller? Or do you just wanna... Beat It?

Timmy: Well... I... I...

Jizzy: Don't be afraid little guy, MJ won't hurt you!

Timmy: ... MJ?

Jizzy: You know! Michael Jizzy! My real name!

Timmy: ...

Jizzy: Come on inside! I've got candy, cookies, chocolate, phallic devices!

Timmy: Ph- ph-

Jizzy: I've got DONUTS!!!

[Suddenly, young Timmy is able to start the lighter... and the flame lights part of Jizzy's leg, which, just like most of the other parts of MJ, is made of 99% plastic. Jizzy immediately begins to melt...]

Jizzy: I'm melting... MELTING! Ohhh, what a world, what a world... And to think, that a perverted pedophile such as myself, could ever be killed... to DEATH! ... by such a small, pyromaniacal child such as you! Oooooo, what a world... Parting... is such sweet sorrow. *dies*

Timmy: Yay! Lightew fine-ah-wee wukked!! Nows I can light granny's birf day cake! ... Wait, what's dis hee-yah? A... a... mud puddle? Ooo, I get to pway! Yipee!

[Timmy begins to play in the puddle of charred flesh and melted plastic, but... before long, a figure descends into view. As Death is away resting, his cousin, Francis, has taken on the entity's duties. Francis, a skeletal figure bedecked in a black robe, carrying a scythe [sound familiar?], walks over to the puddle, to find Timmy splashing around.]

Francis: Hey, ya mashugina! What's wit' da splashing, and da splishing, and da OY VAY! Get out of here ya baba ganoosh! Don't ya know that's not kosher?!

Timmy: Awww... but I'm only havin' fun mistew!

Francis: Oiven... kids today. No repect for their elders. Why, back in my day, 3,000,000 years ago, we didn't even HAVE puddles of melted body parts! We had to make our own!

[As Francis goes on with his tales of an earlier time [waaay earlier...], neither boy nor reaper notice the back door opening... and the Metal God walking in, with Tifa right alongside.]

Francis: And ANOTHER thing-

Tifa: AHEM! Presenting, his most respected, his most courageous, his most EXHALTED... Leader of the Rock-O-Lution... Axl... Van... HALEN!!! Jeez, am I glad the pay is good. ... Oh... wait. Right...

Axl: ARE YOU READY TAH ROCCCKKK!!!

Francis: Huh?

Axl: ... I said... ARE... YOU... RRRRR-

Francis: Huh? Yer gonna have tah speak up there, wise-en-heimen!

Axl: Wise-en... ? I SAID... ... You know what? Nevermind. Let's see here...Tifa, I may not be seeing right, but is that a kid with a lighter and green hair I see?

Tifa: Well, it's blue... but close enough.

Axl: And that's a skeleton in a robe wielding a scythe, right?

Tifa: Yup. You got it, dude.

Axl: Well then. Kevin. Death. You may not be ready to rock... but let's... get... ready... to RUUUMMBBBLLLEEE!!!~1

Timmy: Kevin?

Francis: Death?

Timmy/Francis: [looking at eachother] *gulp*

::: ... to be concluded ... :::

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Fire... Death... and Donuts. - the conclusion...
========



:: Friday, July 13th, 2007 - 10:10 a.m. ::

~ Location: Metal Manor ~

[And now, for the conclusion of "Fire... Death... and Donuts." We join Tifa, standing beside Axl at his computer, as he holds an icepack to his jaw.]

Tifa: So. You just had your ass kicked by a five year old with a lighter and a skeleton with a scythe. Have you come to a conclusion?

Axl: Yup. That at 'Comeback's a B!tch', I'm... gonna get my ass kicked by a five year old with a lighter. And a skeleton with a scythe.

Tifa: And how...

Axl: How? Probably by being lit on fire and having a scythe shoved up my ass. Damn bookers...

Tifa: No, no, that's not what I meant. And how is an expression. You know, like, "You know it."

Axl: Know what?

Tifa: Know... it... Nevermind. So, what do you think you should do? You had Parodyox INC. fix up that shiny, spinny belt, and now it's all going to go to waste.

Axl: Ya know, Tiffy... [tosses aside the ice pack, and stands to his feet... looking sternly ahead]. I'm not ready to back down just yet. By God... I still have a little gas left in the tank... my blood's still pumping... and babe... I've got a phone.

Tifa: A... phone?

Axl: Yeah, you know, one of those plastic things that you press numbers on to call people from long distances?

Tifa: ...

Axl: And WITH the phone... I, Axl VanHalen, Metal God, Leader of the Rock-O-Lution, and one man army...

Axl: ...

Axl: Am going to call in the reinforcements.

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on




























Tifa: Wait... If you're a one man army, why would you need reinfor-

Axl: CUT!!!

/// cut \\\

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Last Drummer Drumming...
========



:: Thursday, July 19th, 2007 - 3:33 p.m. ::

~ Location: Studio B.O. - NowhereWood Hills ~

[NowhereWood is the center of all movie and television related hoopla in Nowhere, Oklahoma. The homes of stars, movie themed amusement parks, and of course, studios. From Studio P.U., all the way to Studio F.U., Studio City is the ultimate destination for Nowhere-ians looking to make a mark in the T.V. or movie biz. And today, we find ourselves in Studio B.O., where three judges sit behind a desk... awaiting the beginning of a brand new contest reality game show.]

[On stage, Axl stands, only instead of wearing his usual rock star get-up, he is bedecked in a snazzy suit and tie. Axl's hair is pinned back in a ponytail, and his eyes are covered by a pair of golden-tinted shades. Axl speaks into a microphone as the show begins...]

Axl: Hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to... Last... Drummer... DRUMMING! As you all know, unless you're stupid, Tifa Bon Jovi has recently gone under an operation. She didn't tell me exactly what kind of operation, only muttering something about SMP and questioning how he knew about her secret. So, as I have quite possibly THE biggest gig in my life coming up, a bar mitzvah for young Billy Whatchamacallit, I am looking for a drummer to fill in for my assistant. I have called upon the help of three of the greatest musical talents in history to judge the top ten participants, who I've already chosen by a random drawing.

Axl: First of all, we have... Slash!!! Yes, that's right, Kevin Slash, former member of the sWo, also known as Big Daddy Drool! Who can forget his talent on the kazoo?

Axl: Next to him, we have... Queen Latifah. Yes, known for her rapping skills, Queen Terra McDerra Latifah Sharifah Jackson from the 23rd Axis of McLereon, is also a ruler of the most prominent planet in the 57th solar system of Dimension Tootses.

Axl: And finally, we have... Ringo! Yes, Ringo the Clown, brother of the now departed Jizzy the Clown. Ringo's brother was also known by his real name, MJ, under which he recorded many musical hits, such as "Don't Stop Till You Jizz Enough", and "You Rock My JizzyWorld". Ringo hails from Britain, where he has been practicing the air guitar.

Axl: And now, allow me to bring out the first of ten men trying out for this esteemed position. He is a pizza chef at Slice of Life Pizzeria right here in lovely Nowhere... Chad Chazzly McChesterson!

[Axl raises a hand to his side, looking to the right, motioning for Chad to make his way on stage... When the camera cuts to the back, where we find Chad tied up, half naked, to a chair. Suddenly, porno music kicks on, and a fat, sweaty guy in a thong comes onto the scene, pouring oil all over himself. He grinds away on Chad's lap, as the poor, helpless geek yells in agony. From off screen comes a man in a navy uniform, with his back turned to the camera. The oily fat guy walks away, as the navy man sits on Chad's lap, leg on either side, back still to the camera... and a drum stick in either hand. The navy guy lifts his drumsticks into the air, and starts playing a number on Chad's head.]

Navy "Seal": Annnnddd sheee's buuuuy-iy-iy-iying... a staaaaairwaaaay... to- ... nevermind. AXL!!!

[Navy boy gets up from Chad's lap, turns around, and we see that his face is covered with the same black mask of the man that has been chasing after Axl for weeks.]

? ? ? : Well, well, well. As you know, Axl old boy, Death mentioned you have a few friends in the Navy. I... am not one of them. The only chance you have of beating Death at C.A.B. is if Big Bony decides to lay down for you. And trust me... you're NO Hulk Hogan. Although, just like the Hulkster, you have a habit of being a bit LIMP downstairs. Whereas he has old age as an excuse, you? Well, let's just say neither age nor steroids have anything to do with it!!! BWAHAHAHA, but seriously. [sits down on Chad, legs crossed this time, staring into the camera] Axl... it's only a matter of time. Once you and the whole world find out my true identity, the end of BoB shall be... at hand. Axl... see you at Comeback's a Bitch...

? ? ? : ... Bitch.

[The screen cuts out, leaving the camera to fade away on Axl ripping his glasses off and his hair out of a ponytail... seething with rage.]

Axl: WHO STOLE MY LIPGLOSS?!

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on

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Cuttin' 2 Da Bone...
========



:: Monday, July 23rd, 2007 - 2:15 p.m. ::

~ Location: Nowhere Bingo Hall and Motel ~

[The bingo tables are moved to the sides of the building. The concession stand is open for business. And a make-shift ring is set up in the center. Tonight, Nowhere Bingo Hall and Motel is ready. Ready... for Xtremely Crappy Wrestling.]

[XCW Chairman, and second cousin third removed of Vince Russo, TIM Russo, stands in the middle of the ring, microphone in hand. With gruff beard, scruffy hair, and Nowhere Knucklehead baseball jersey on, Timmy-Ru is filled with excitement, and ready to kick off the very first edition of XCW Destrucity, locally broadcast, as well as downloadable from XCW's GeoCities site. As the fans continue to cheer, Timmy-Ru begins to speak into the mic.]

Timmy-Ru: Nowhere, Oklahoma. My hometown, and the best fvckin' place on God's green earth! [loud cheer] Yeah, and tonight, the first fvckin' episode of Destrucity is going to rock this Hall to it's very mother fvckin' foundation! [louder cheer] So, without further adieu-

[Suddenly, "Cuttin' 2 Da Bone" by Axl VanHalen plays, and the entry way opens... with Axl, er... "some guy", dressed up in a surgeon's garb, mask over his mouth, and hair flowing... that last part not that much like a surgeon as much as it is a rock star, but either way, next to him walks Tifa. Er, make that a "nurse". A nurse with huge, plastic baloons stuffed down the back of her skirt.]

[The "surgeon" and the "nurse" step into the ring and stare daggers into Timmy-Ru.]

"surgeon": Hello, Mr. Ru. Allow me to introduce myself. My name... is Dr. Daniel Umbrage M. Plants, D.U.M.P. for short. I specialize in plastic surgery on people's asses, increasing the size of their rectal cavity so those with a crap stuck up in their corn shoots can take a-

Timmy-Ru: For fuck sakes!!! And you, Nurse...

"nurse": Nurse Heiney. I've got a big butt.

Timmy-Ru: No kiddin'. So what are you two doing here, in MY ring?

D.U.M.P.: There's someone in your company I have a bone to pick with! And Russo, I won't leave until you send him out here! He's your beloved Dutch Navy Belt Champion, and self-proclaimed "Rock N' Roll Mesiah"... Leader of the Metalocalypse? My foot! Bring him out here, Timothy!

Timmy-Ru: You want him? You goddam have him, ya bastard! Ladies and Gentlemen... please welcome... Sebastian... Simmons!!!

["Young, Dumb, and Rich B!tch [Rock-O-Lution Remix]" hits, and out comes... a midget? Well, a midget in a long, oversized wig, along with tiny, torns jeans, sandals, little black bands with spikes on his wrists and around his throat, and a dark black shirt with the word "MotleyDeth" written across in white. "Sebastian Simmons" walks down to the ring, tries to roll in... but can't even make it all the way up the apron. He finally decides to take the stairs, and once inside, lifts up a fist to the air, as the crowd screams its approval. D.U.M.P. taps Sebastian on the shoulder while he's looking the other way, and the Good Doc immediately goes for a swing.. which Sebastian easily ducks under [or more like walks under] and when D.U.M.P. turns around, Sebastian rams his head into the Doctor's nether regions. The surgeon bends over, grabbing his goodies, before Sebastian leaps up and hits a dropkick to the head, sending D.U.M.P. flying backward as if a wrecking ball had hit him. With D.U.M.P. on the mat, Timmy-Ru lifts Seb into the air... before dropping him on the doc with a body splash.]

[Sebastian stands up and runs circles around the fallen D.U.M.P., before Tim places a hand on his forehead, and shakes his head, before putting a foot out and tripping the poor little fella. Tim then picks up D.U.M.P., and grabs him by the hair... Sebastian Simmons stands back up, and Tim throws the surgeon's head between the little man's legs... well... tries anyway. D.U.M.P. ends up more lying at the midget's feet, and while Seb performs the action of waving his hands about as if he's picking up D.U.M.P., Timmy-Ru is the one actually doing the picking up. Tim lifts up D.U.M.P. over Seb's head... and gently places him down on his back to the mat. Seb collapses from all the strain of moving his hands around, right on top of D.U.M.P. ... and Timmy-Ru goes down to make the count;]

1...

2...

3!

[Tifa has removed her nurse outfit, and is now in a hot pink sports bra, and black mini skirt, with a microphone in hand.]

Tifa: And your winner, and STILL Dutch Navy Champion of the World... Sebastian... Simmons!!!~1

[Sebastian stands atop the fallen D.U.M.P., holding his belt in the air in one hand {which is just a plain belt, with a cardboard buckle with the letters "XCW" scrawled across in marker}, Tifa lifting his other hand in the air. Timmy-Ru leans against the corner post... looking out into the crowd... before looking into the camera... mouthing three words;]

"Comeback's a bitch."
=========================================================================================
From the Law Offices of...
========
Friday, July 27th, 2007 A.D.
11:45 a.m.

Plantiff: Silaconne Monroe Plants, PhD
Plantiff: Heidi Elizabeth Hobson, RN

Suit: Defamation of Character

Accused: "Axl VanHalen", birth name UNK.
Accused: "Tifa Bon Jovi", birth name possibly Tiffany Witherspoon, a.k.a. "Groupie Whore".

Accused Party/Parties:

I have been summonded as legal counsel by the above mentioned plantiffs re: a recent skit perpetrated by above mention parties under the listing "accused".

It appears that a grand junction, Class A lawsuit has been filed under Las Vegas, NV, district bylaw number 385-A4 by aforementioned plantiffs that the accused has defamed their characters under penal code dash six classfied as B misdemeanor slander.

Although I see no defamation of character, considering the plantiff's past history, what do I care? I'm a lawyer. I'll get paid either way.

However, Miss Hobson is adamant that she does not have a "big butt" and has demanded monetary compensation. Mr./Dr. Plants has stated both via MySpace messenger and voice mail to my cellular phone that he doesn't really care about the legal process or any monies due to him under successful proof of slanderous activites because he plans to "rip Axl a new asshole" anyway.

But hey, they put in the request, so I'm just doing my job.

Please refrain from dressing up as the plantiffs in future endeavors w/o a clearly visable disclaimer that all participants in skits/promos/small plays/reenactments/dance routines/metal concerts/et al are fictional and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Failure to abide by this suit will result in our forthgoing of means, both morally inept and justifiably questionable, in an effort to pursue legal actions which will cost you vast amounts of monies we obviously can see you do not have.

In essence, you have been warned.

Thanks to you.

Haywood Jablomie
Attorney at Law

From the Law Offices of-
Jablomie, Woodya, Pleese
AND ASSOCIATES, L.L.P.

ATTORNEYS AT LAW
======================
Friday, July 27th, 2007 A.D.
10:54 p.m.

Plantiff: Dr. Daniel Umbrage M. Plants, PhD
Plantiff: Tiffany Hugh G. Rection Nelson Riley Balogna Waye Witherspoon the 73rd, PA
Plantiff: Sebastian Stepford, Midget

Suit: Defamation of Character, Malpractice

Accused: Silaconne Monroe Plants, PhD
Accused: Heidi Elizabeth Hobson, RN
Accused: Haywood Jablomie, Shark

Accused Party/Parties:

Dear Sirs and Sir... ess.

It has come to my attention that my prized client, Axl VanHalen, has been accused of slander. Which, obviously, unless you're mentally deficient, is a great miscarriage of justice. Those who witnessed the premiere edition of XCW Destrucity would be quick to point out that, contrary to what Dr. Plants may or may not believe, Dr. Daniel Umbrage M. Plants is in fact NOT Mr. VanHalen in disguise, but an actual, practicing doctor, as well as World Champion of esteemed sports entertainment promotion, Grapplers On a Government Grant, or 'GOGG'. Dr. D.U.M.P. has been working in the field of dislodging various objects from patients' sphincters for years and is apalled at being mistaken for a cheap knock-off. Dr. D.U.M.P. wishes to let Dr. S.M.P. know that such a mistake is even more grievous under these circumstances, as the plantiff is "vastly superior to Dr. What's His Face". Dr. D.U.M.P. will settle for nothing less than 80 million dollars, and also states that IF SMP DOES tear Axl a new asshole, he will be quick to repair the damages, free of charge. For years, Dr. D.U.M.P. has been removing things from people's rectums, so they can take a good crap. After viewing a tape of some of Sil's "best" matches, the good Doc now knows Sil can provide just as much crap, if not more. The GoGG champion wishes to let the OTHER Doc know, that if he wishes to prove that he's atleast good at SOMETHING... to come to an upcoming episode of GoGG's franchise program, 'Friday Night Ether', and meet the REAL Doc... for the title. SMP chooses the stipulations, as well as the episode. In Dr. D.U.M.P.s own words; "Put your money where your poop-shoot is!"

In addition, Tiffany H.G.R.N.R.B.W.W. the 73rd would like to know exactly what the plantiff means. You see, when Tifa played the part of Nurse Heiney, it was meant to be a try-out for GoGG as Dr. D.U.M.P.'s manager. What Ms. Witherspoon doesn't quite understand is why Ms. Hobson believes Tifa was making light of a big rear that Nurse Heidi may or may not have. In reality, the rear that those viewing may have thought were perhaps 'baloons' or some such, was actually the extra plumpness Ms. Witherspoon added to her backside when she had another surgery taken care of. Something about "two stones and a twig"... Soon after the video was shot, Ms. Witherspoon became quite self-concious about her ass and decided to have the operation undone. She has also decided to sue Ms. Hobson for 20 million dollars, and a copy of "Burning off the Fat to FunkMastah Flex, featuring Simon Richards".

And finally, Dutch Navy Champion of Xtremely Crappy Wrestling, Sebastian Stepford has issued a warrant for Haywood Jablomie's arrest in response to a previous case settlement. It seems as if previously, Mr. Stepford had finished a divorce case as Jablomie's client. He was promised that he could keep the couple's stepladder for "personal use". Upon remembering that the former couple didn't actually OWN a step ladder, Sebastian went into a fit of hysterics, screaming obsceneties, and accusing Jablomie of "false claims". Mr. Stepford seeks Mr. Jablomie's imprisonment for no less than 75 and 3/4 years.

In closing, Axl has given me quite the idea. As best friend to Dr. D.U.M.P., employer to Tifa, and of course, Sebastian Stepford's fifth cousin, Axl has come to a decision on how the individual punishments should be handled. The entire 100 Million Dollars, the exercise video, as well as Haywood's rightful punishment, on the line... SMP will face an opponent of Axl's choosing. It could be a member of the XCW roster, a member of the GoGG roster, or perhaps even Axl himself. On his end, Axl will put up, in his own words, "every last cent in my bank, my wallet, and my private stash", as well as his entire Rock N' Roll collection, and... the place where it's all kept. GwarTellica's private mansion, the Metal Manor. At a total price of $900,000,000.01, Axl has agreed to put it ALL on the line. For his friend, Dan. For his colleague, Tifa. And for his favorite cousin... the Little Bastard.

One billion dollars, and it could all be yours.

All you have to do, Mr. Plants, is sign on the dotted line.

Have a nice day.

Axl's former agent... current attorney;

Rott N. Dealer

Celebrating the one year anniversary of a Rock-O-Lution...
======================
To whom it may concern,
CC: Rott N. Dealer,

First of all I’d like to extend my apologies for not addressing and responding to this document earlier. I don’t work on weekends.

Secondly, re: your outrageously ridiculous statement and demands:

1) We here did not care and/or do not care whether the fact that Axl VanHalen is/or is not Dr. Daniel Umbrage M. Plants, the suit is surrounded by the fact that there is an individual using the same field (albeit under a different discipline) and same surname as my client to defame his status in the medical field. Why? We have no idea, especially considering the track record of my client. However; whether this man Dr. D.U.M.P. is a legally practicing physician or a professional wrestler (sic) is a moot point as this point in time. Our grounds are substantiated, there is an individual blatantly running a practice under a surname CLOSELY (used loosely) imitating my client. We ask that he stop doing so.

2) It is impossible to be mistaken as a “cheap knock-off” when the “accused” has been in the public eye YEARS prior to any mention of the accuser. You’re the lamest lawyer ever.

3) You cannot sue for malpractice if said doctor has never performed an operation on accuser, and was found negligent in care rendered. We are glad to hear that your client will be more than willing that repair Axl’s bunghole if damaged by Dr. Silaconne M. Plants in a wrestling encounter. My client has assured me that this is ONE surgery he will be sure NOT to botch. The breast surgeries, now that’s a different story.

4) We do not dispute the fact SMP has had several “crap” matches. He contends that crappy booking was at fault.

5) Dr. Plants will not appear at any renegade wrestling shows, run by individuals only hoping to demean his legacy in the wrestling business. SMP is a documented legend in parody sports entertainment. Dr. D.U.M.P.? Not so much.

6) Re: Tiffany the 73rd… we find it sad her lineage could not come up with another name for 74 generations. However, Miss Hobson has conceded the Simon Richards video because she has three of them, but the 20 million? Go screw yourself.

7) I have never represented Sebastian Stepford in ANY court of law. That is a lie and I hold you liable for now making false accusations. The only time I have ever represented a dwarf was that ONE time Verne Troyer acquired my services in a suit against MTV for showing him piss on a carpet while intoxicated during an episode of Surreal Life. His claim was a defamation case as well, until I saw him singing “Got My Car Fixed, It’s My Birthday” and decided to drop the case since he pretty much ruined his character right there. I’m not counting the time I represented Gary Coleman for suing Emmanuel Lewis for taking the “Cute Little Black Kid” tag from him, but those guys aren’t really midgets now are they?

8) In addition, I was surfing through the channels this weekend and saw “Priciest Celeb Cribs” on Vh1. Wayne Newton was at number 3, and his pad was around an estimated 52 million. That’s WAYNE NEWTON! Axl VanHalen cannot sing. He has no career to speak of in either the recording genre or in professional sports entertainment. I seriously doubt he was #2 or #1. We find his claim to have a “mansion” worth 900 million dollars (roughly) simply absurd, even by “Brawler’s on a Budget” standards. And did I mention he’s no Wayne Newton? Give us a break, guy.

9) We also do not see it necessary to continue bothering with your frivolous and baseless claims. We also do not see it necessary to bog down court proceedings with such stupid antics as you have perpetrated to try and coerce my client into a wrestling match. We fill that this is a waste of time and the courts would be better served having left room for more important things such as NFL quarterbacks, NBA referees, the guy that sued the dry cleaning place for 50 million for losing his pants, the sister of a pedophile who’s suing NBC for 105 million for “killing” her brother, after he committed suicide when cameras showed up at his house after they busted him for “talking dirty” to an undercover agent posing as a 13 y.o. boy, and Lindsay Lohan D.U.I.s.

10) If you do not end your mindless drivel, I’ll be forced to contact Judge Jerry N. Expuchener, affectionately referred to as the “Judge, Jury, and Executioner”, for his swift handling of bullshit claims. You’ll be spending the better part of the rest of your life making big rocks into little rocks.

11) I have advised Dr. Silaconne M. Plants to refrain from legally changing his name to Wayne Coleman, despite my thinking his has legal grounds to do so for being “ripped-off”. Just not something I feel is necessary at this time, although warranted.

Have a good day.

Haywood Jablomie
Attorney at Law

From the Law Offices of-
Jablomie, Woodya, Pleese
AND ASSOCIATES, L.L.P.

ATTORNEYS AT LAW
======================
Omissions, additions, and corrections:

I sincerely apologize for the above mentioned items. There were some things either left off my recent retort or simply befuddled. What can I say? My secretary is a moron.

1) We'd like to substitute "feel" for "fill" in section 9, paragraph 1, sentence 3.

2) We regret that we failed to include MBL Home-Run Hitters along with NFL quarterbacks and NBA referees, also located in section 9. It's not fair to single out the NFL and NBA when there's a guy about to break Hank Aaron's all time homer record, clouded in a shroud of steroid allegations, which he denies, despite the fact his head has melloned three times its original size since he entered the league. We stand firm behind Lindsay Lohan D.U.I.s. Is she a lush or what?

3) Time and date was omitted:
Monday, July 30th 2007 A.D. 11:00 a.m.

4) Axl VanHalen, quit being a dumbass.

5) That is all.

Thank you.
Haywood
======================
[ooc note: The reference to 'malpractice' was to address the thing between Haywood and Sebastian. Sorry if you got that confused. On that note, I won't mention Seb's case in this promo. And what I meant by "cheap knock-off" is that D.U.M.P. himself was the accused knock-off, as that's what Haywood and SMP were making him out to be.]

Monday, July 30th, 2007 A.D.
5:54 p.m.

Dear Mr. Jablomie,

After a bit of scrutiny, a few statements are in order;

1. Dr. Daniel Umbrage has decided that, seeing as how he hates to have the same surname as perhaps the worst plastic surgeon in the history of the proffesion, that he is changing his name to something with a bit more class. Dr. D.U.M.P. has changed his name to Daniel Umbrage Nancy Griffith, or Dr. D.U.N.G. Finally, a name that will garner a bit more respect...

2. Dr. DUNG has proven himself to be the better wrestler of the two doctors. He's won every title in GoGG, he's a three time GoGG "Grappler That Could Be Possibly Mistaken For Having Some Degree of Talent", and of course, as every knows unless they're retarded, Dr DUNG could kick SMP's ass with his hands tied behind his back. And as far as his surgical career is concerned, Dr. DUNG has NEVER failed an operation. Well... there was that one time he accidentally pulled a guy's lung out through his rear, but the Doc had had a bit of a rough day, and hey, if you can't take your anger out on your patients, who CAN you take it out on?

3. Tifa's name, as well as every other member of her family's name, is completely original. Why, not a single member has the same number at the end! She also wishes to thank Ms. Hobson for the video, but will not rest until her emotional distress is taken care of in full. And lemme tell ya, those fat ass women, when they set their mind on something...

4. How did Axl get the mansion? Simple. When Axl divorced Rose, Rott was put in charge of splitting up the goods. And seeing as how Axl didn't own a damn thing, and Rose owned two mansions as well as her father's inheritance, Rott did the only thing he could. He gave Axl half of Rose's stuff. Cha-ching!

5. As far as the match is concerned, Axl wishes to let Dr. M. Plants know that truly, the only reason he suggested the match is so there could be some closure brought to their butting of heads over the last several weeks. Axl has provided the following statement;

"SMP... I repect what you've done, and I think you know that. But in every legend's career, there comes a time to pass the torch. And though for you that time has been for quite some time now, you still insist on clutching to the torch like Heidi to a package of Haagen Daz. SMP... if you wish to settle this, once and for all, meet me. You... vs me. Only... with one stipulation. You bring a partner... I bring a partner. And we'll meet inside the Metal Manor, for the very first EVER "Mansion Massacre Melee", in which both of our teams begin at the bottom floor, and the first team to make it to the roof of the estate, and to grab the papers to the house, suspended from a pole, will take it all. The Manor... the money... and the right to say they truly are better than the other. SMP... it's time you pass the torch. And who betta' to receive it... than the Metal God, with the Metal Rod... the Leader of the Rock-O-Lution... the GREATEST Swiss Army Champion in the HISTORY of Swiss Army Champions... mio. Axl... Van... Halen. See you soon... if you've still got it. "

Axl would also like to provide the following, in closing;

"Rock on... bitch."

Rott N. Dealer
Attorney at Law
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reload...
-------------
[Dr. Silaconne M. Plants is seen standing near a podium. He’s wearing a rental courtesy of “Nip N Tux”, the official tuxedo supplier of plastic surgeons, surprised you haven’t heard of it. The Doc sports a black ensemble with a slate blue tie/cummerbund assembly because Nurse Heidi thought it “brought out his eyes”. He also has some fresh gig scars partially hidden by two thin strips of white medical tape on his forehead. To his left is his attorney, Haywood Jablomie, dressed in a symbolic tie dyed suit and wearing a not-so-wide brimmed hat punctuated by a feather boa. Despite being indoors, he’s wearing purple tinted sunglasses. There are no less than two microphones at the podium.]

HJ: AHEM. Greetings, media types. Bus boy. Janitor. Before I turn this thing over for Dr. Plants’ eagerly awaited response to recent challenges from Axl VanHalen…let’s please review the entire situation. Mr. VanHalen, I give you exhibit “A”.

[Mr. Jablomie hits “play” on a hand held remote. A screen drops down from the ceiling and lowers behind the two men. Full audio and video are present for those in attendance. You can read it.]

Suddenly, "Cuttin' 2 Da Bone" by Axl VanHalen plays, and the entry way opens... with Axl, er... "some guy", dressed up in a surgeon's garb, mask over his mouth, and hair flowing... that last part not that much like a surgeon as much as it is a rock star, but either way, next to him walks Tifa. Er, make that a "nurse". A nurse with huge, plastic baloons stuffed down the back of her skirt.

HJ: As you can plainly see, this Dr. Daniel Umbrage M. Plants is not an actual, practicing physician as Axl VanHalen’s lawyer, a Mr. Rott N. Dealer, pffft, claims he is, but simply Axl VanHalen himself, dressed up as a doctor in an attempt to slander my client by having him job to a midget in a wrestling match, a Mr. Sebastian Simmons, a so-called champion of a promotion nobody’s heard of or cares about. We find it ironic that aforementioned midget’s name is Sebastian Simmons, derived most likely from “rock stars” Sebastian Bach of Skid Row fame and Gene Simmons of KISS. How quaint this is since Axl VanHalen’s name is also derived from “rock stars” Axl Rose of GNR and of course his last name, VanHalen, from the band of the same name. Is it any real mystery that when “D.U.M.P.” talks, it was in a red font, just like Axl VanHalen? Do we have to call in Nancy Drew to see that the “title” was coined Dutch Navy, a poor disguise, just like everything else, of the “title” Axl holds held, the Swiss Army? We can see that it’s no accident that a “surgeon” is squashed by a midget bearing numerous similarities to Axl VanHalen. I give you exhibit “B”.

It has come to my attention that my prized client, Axl VanHalen, has been accused of slander. Which, obviously, unless you're mentally deficient, is a great miscarriage of justice. Those who witnessed the premiere edition of XCW Destrucity would be quick to point out that, contrary to what Dr. Plants may or may not believe, Dr. Daniel Umbrage M. Plants is in fact NOT Mr. VanHalen in disguise, but an actual, practicing doctor, as well as World Champion of esteemed sports entertainment promotion, Grapplers On a Government Grant, or 'GOGG'

HJ: We find this statement, backed by evidence, to be a blatant lie. So now, after caught in a lie, Mr. Dealer finds it necessary to make shit up as he goes. There was no previous mention of this man’s “credentials” when he took a dive for the midget, and being so quickly defeated, that doesn’t make him out to be much of “world champion”, now does it? Nobody is mentally deficient, other than this lawyer. However, we applaud your recent decision to have D.U.M.P. change his name to D.U.N.G. to avoid further charges. May we suggest D.U.M.B.? Exhibit “C”.

Dr. DUNG has proven himself to be the better wrestler of the two doctors. He's won every title in GoGG, he's a three time GoGG "Grappler That Could Be Possibly Mistaken For Having Some Degree of Talent", and of course, as every knows unless they're retarded, Dr DUNG could kick SMP's ass with his hands tied behind his back.

HJ: I guess we're all retarded, in a bizzaro world kinda way. Like, reverse retardism. Like calling a fat guy “Tiny” kind of retardism. Exhibit “D”.

SMP... if you wish to settle this, once and for all, meet me. You... vs me. Only... with one stipulation. You bring a partner... I bring a partner.

HJ: Okay, just what ARE you trying to say? You vs. Me. That’s one-on-one. But bring a partner? You are really stupid. Exhibit “E”.

The Manor... the money... and the right to say they truly are better than the other.

HJ: How much more can….

SMP: THAT’S ENOUGH!

[SMP pushes Haywood aside…]

SMP: Axl, first of all… as you can see, you’ve done something nobody else have ever made me do. I’ve officially joined BOB as a member. I wanted my very first “post” to be special. Now then, regarding the malpractice thing, I automatically assumed that you were talking about me, since malpractice is normally associated with physicians and lawyers. I saw no reason for it to be associated with the lawyer in this situation, seeing it is common practice for a lawyer, created by somebody else, to pick his own clients. ‘Nuff said.

In regards to your challenge, the answer is no. You can take you “Metal Mansion Melee”, your pole, and your money… and shove them all up your DOOKIE POOT, CRUSTY ASS! Then you can go ahead and splooge on yourself for making your gay asshole happy.

[The Doc turns to Jablomie…]

SMP: As you can see, Haywood is dressed rather peculiarly today. This is not a mistake or a fashion statement. We’re tired of being “sampled”.

HJ: I know, right?!

[They high-five.]

Now granted… I’ve always heard that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Whatever.

I guess I could consider it an honor. Maybe if somebody I felt was a peer of mine did it, it’d be a different story. You? You’re not in my league.

So, as far as that “passing the torch” business, you can forget about that. I’ll pass the torch when the time is right, when somebody steps up that can carry it. As much as you hope, pray, and THINK it’s you… it’s not. Sorry to piss on your ego, but let’s face reality, pal. You’re no savior. You’re not the Next Big Thing. You’re not the Next Big Anything.

You see, people despise me because I’m a braggart. You do the same… but the things I brag about, I’ve done. When I say I held three titles in three promotions at the same time? That happened. That information can be accessed. Yours, only when you feel it’s necessary to make-up and fit the appropriate moment.

I was watching a recent episode of “The Bronx is Burning” on ESPN, and remembered a line that Reggie Jackson supposedly told his teammates when joining the Yankees… “I didn’t come to New York to BECOME a star. I brought my star with me.”

That’s what I did when I came to Brawler’s on a Budget. I was in the main event of the very first show. On the first album of BOB Entrance Music, guess who’s Track One? This is not a coincidence.

You can bring in your XCW cronies if you want to but it’s not going to matter. People in this federation may not like me, but they know I’ll stand up for this place. Of all the people that’s come and gone, douja and I are still here. We’re the originals. And if I have to team up with him to get rid of you, as much as I’d hate it, I’d do it. At least I respect douja. As much as I hate Zeno, and now Mano and Pete Trable, for screwing up my chance to finally get my hands on that ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS, I’d team with him to get rid of you. Why? At least I respect Zeno. I’d team with Massive Man and his gang, to get rid of you. Although I probably won’t hear from those guys again until another wrestler kills his family and himself to give them some promo material… I guess I’d still team with them to get rid of you. You suck.

And as much as I try to heel for the crowd, like I did the other night to make them boo me, if this continues with you and it turns me… I’m even happy with that, even though I hate being baby because I loathe signing autographs and the like.

In closing, our match will come. But it will come on my terms, not yours. I don’t know if you’re still the Number One Contender for Zeno or not, even though you did “earn” the spot. You lost to Kevin and you then lost your title to Death. Then you cost me my chance in the tournament. And that’s fine.

I’m keeping in all in, I’m letting it all build up… so when that time comes that I do finally get my hands on you, I’m going to pound on you until The Flunky has to come out and scoop your dumb ass up with a spatula.

To wrap this up, and as morbid as this may sound, I hope you do win the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. Because I can’t think of anybody I’d rather take that title from when I finally do get it, not douja, not Killalot, not Billy Polar, not Bohemoth, Trey Vincent, Kurt Angel, Hardcore JJ, not Coma, MMR1, Violent Pacifist, Sarah or Zeno…. There is nobody I’d rather take that strap from than you, Axl. Nobody.

GET IT? GOT IT? GOOD!

[SMP knocks the podium over, sending microphones, two small glasses of water, and promo notes flying everywhere, then leaves. The bus boy claps. The janitor? Not so much.]

[CUT]

\////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////\

BOB: Comeback's A Bitch...
07 - 07 - 07
===========================
Death: It was then time for the eight man grudge match. Team STWF vs. Team BOB. Team BOB, featuring Dr. Silaconne M. Plants, who I could beat, Massive Man Rendition First, who I could beat, Kamikazie Ken, who I could beat, and Coma, who I could beat, were absolutely kicking STWF ass. Then, in a shocking moment, the STWF members were unmasked...only to find out it was a swerve. *Sigh* Skeeter, Leary, Dustbuster Boy and Alan Qaida were Team STWF. But then the REAL STWF team ran in the ring and obliterated Team BOB with waffle makers. Team STWF picked up the win, pinning Kamikazie Ken, since he hasn't cut a promo in years.

Death: It was almost time for the March Mayhem Finale. But before that, Axl Van Halen couldn't help but insult a bloody SMP. SMP threatened to shove Axl's faggy guitar and his own Italian loafters up a naughty place, but then remembered Axl would probably like it.

Death: Onto the match. Jim vs. douja vs. Axl Van Halen vs. Mr. Paradox in a four-way elimination match. Jim was eliminated first after Kurt Angel and Rob Van Spam tried to run in. Jim easily fought them off, but then had some Chronic Neck Pain that he couldn't overcome. Mr. Paradox was next to go after a fluke pin involving a bag of marbles Axl had been using to stuff his pants exploded after a low blow, ironically by Mr. Paradox. Tons of drama. Tons of blood. Tons of chronic smoke. Axl and douja traded several near falls, but then SMP made a shocking return to the ring, attacking Axl and trying to suffocate him with an oversized douja-sized condom. douja and SMP teamed up to spike piledrive Axl through a table. The winner of the match as a result of a DQ, and NEW number one contender...Axl Van Halen.

Death: SMP wasn't done. He told everyone that he was sick and tired of the crap going on in BOB. Well, who isn't? He asked Axl how he was going to stop the STWF with a broken neck. SMP also said HE should be the next OWTTM. BWAHAHAHA. Sorry, pal, that's ME. He challenges the winner of Zeno/Pigeon, and says he's the next ONLY WORLD CHAMP THAT MATTERS. Get it? Got it? Please....

Death: Main event time. Another great match between Sir Zeno and Pigeon, this time with the special guest referee of the Undietaker. After a brutal bloody mess, in which Undietaker threatened to kick Zeno's ass on several occasions, Undietaker shocked the crowd by knocking out Pigeon with a chair. The crowd booed as Sir Zeno retained his title, and apparently has bought the contract of the Undietaker. Good thing, I doubt BigBOSS could afford him anymore.

Death: So there was MAYhem In MAYday. Zeno's still your ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS, Axl Van Halen is the number one contender by winning the Mayhem tournament...even if the final was decided by a frigging DQ. The STWF has dismantled BOB's team and apparently accomplished there goal of getting BOB off the air. So, with that in mind, let's get the show on the road....
===========================

[Axl Van Halen, with Tifa Bon Jovi, rode into a parking lot on a motorcycle.]

TBJ: OH MY GOD!

[Axl ducks, and almost loses control of the motorcycle.]

AVH: What? Is it Death? Kevin the Pyromaniac? That mystery masked man whose been stalking me? What?!

Tifa: No, there's a penny on the ground. (She hops off the motorcycle and snatches is.) It's heads up, too! Good luck for me.

AVH: I'd really appreciate it if you would save screams of horror for IMPORTANT things, okay?

Tifa: Sure, sorry. *Teehee* LOOK OUT!

[Axl dives off the bike. He looks around, then notices his pants are ripped and his leg's got a bit of blood on it.]

AVH: (Annoyed) Ohhh! Tifa! My pants! They're all ripped and bloody and dirty. What was it this time!?

Tifa: Sorry. There was a...spilled coffee there next to the bike. I didn't want you to step in it and ruin your boots.

AVH: (Annoyed) Great. Yeah, my boots are just fine. *Grumble*

[Axl stands up and brushes himself off.]

AVH: I don't need this tonight, Tifa.

Tifa: Axl! Behind you!

Homeless Man: Got any spare change for a veteran?

AVH: Ahhhh!

[Axl begins hitting the homeless man with his Swiss Army Parodyox Guitar Belt. He takes off running.]

Homeless Man: God bless you!

AVH: I'll see you at the Metalocalypse! (He walks back to Tifa.) This night's not going well for us so far. What else is gonna happen...

[Axl and Tifa head into the casino. Once they are inside, a masked figure holding a baseball bat comes into view, staring after Axl and Tifa.]




========
Reload...
========



:: Friday, August 10th, 2007 - 6:66 p.m. ::

~ Location: Metal Manor ~

[Our camera opens upon the front lawn of the Metal Manor, where a stage has been set up. And upon the stage is a podium, behind which stands the former Swiss Army champion, Metal God, and leader of the Rock-O-Lution, Axl Van Halen. Behind him are two members of the company known as XCW, and at his side is his personal assistant, Tifa Bon Jovi. Seated before the stage are... well, nothing more than Axl's beloved stuffed animals. And between the seats and the stage, a camera, which is rolling...]

Axl: Ladies and gentlemen... at ComeBack's a Bitch, the course of the Rock-O-Lution changed. And this change altered many things, including my relationship with Brawlers on a Budget. This morning, when I first prepared to conduct this speech, I had thought I would be standing side by side with the man that made his BoB debut at C.A.B. - Timothy Russo. The fact is, the course has changed once again...

Axl: For you see, this afternoon, around 12 or so, I turned on the TV... [Axl looks down at the podium... a tear almost forming at the corner of his eye] ... And I tuned into XCW Destrucity's second episode. It was a wild ride... highlighted by some of the best action I've ever seen inside a wrestling ring. And then... as the show came to a close... tragedy struck.

[Axl steps to the side, to show a television monitor, with a VCR laying on top. Axl turns on the TV, before pressing 'play' on the VCR...]

[The video starts off toward the end of the episode, with Timmy-Ru walking backstage, through a hallway, with various XCW roster members lining the walls. There's JJ Mynuz, trying to sell the MilkMan his latest album, which the MilkMan trades off for a bottle of his finest. There's the Door Salesmen - Doug Malenko, Steve Benoit, Vac Vanderson, and of course, the Viagra Boy, Dick Flair. And as Timmy-Ru walks through the exit, he stops, looks back, and sees Krucifix sitting on a heating fan, staring over at Russo as if he knows something Russo doesn't. Tim arches a 'brow, but continues on his way, undaunted. Russo keeps walking, and the camera pans to find his vehicle, a rented limo. Russo slowly opens the door... he places a foot into the limo... he takes one last look around, before getting in... except for one foot, which he places on the ground. He lifts the foot and places it inside... before placing it outside again. He moves it inside... before moving it outside again. Inside... outside. Inside... and one more time outside. Ok, he put it inside, and I think he's closing the... no, he stepped outside again. ... Ok, he steps inside, and begins to shut the door... Before holding it open again and stepping his foot back outside.]

Driver: Hey, can ya hurry up and get in the damn limo? It's not like I don't have better things to do than drive your sorry ass around town!

[Tim finally places both feet in the limo, and shuts the door... when suddenly a heap of sticky, syrupy pancakes is dropped on the limousine, burying it almost instantly. The footage cuts, before coming back to the scene of firefighters spraying down the limo with fire extinguishers for some... unknown reason. ...]

Axl: Alright, I can't bare to watch it anymore. [Axl presses 'stop', before taking back to the podium] As anyone can see from that footage, it looks as though Brawlers on a Budget has decided to strike back at the XCW's countless waffle attacks with something even more cruel... even more vile... even more... delicous. This pancake assault has done the unthinkable. Timothy was forced to pay the rental agency to have all that syrup removed, and as a result, had to sell his company to Rent-A-Lemon to pay for the removal. Almost all of XCW's former employees are now chauffers, except for these two fine men standing behind me, Kevin Ass and Crotch Hall, the Insideoutsiders. But as for Timmy-Ru, he now is forced to live in the sewer and feed off of whatever nasty, icky, yucky things he finds down there. I wish him the best of luck in his future endeavors.

Axl: But onto the important matter at hand. As was revealed at ComeBack's a Bitch, it's true... I, along with the former members of the former wrestling company XCW, WERE the ones responsible for the STWF "invasion". But whether I had help or not, it was I and I alone who orchestrated every last step of the plan. So, technically, it was me... Axl... Van... Halen... who took out an entire half of the BoB roster! ... Well, half of the members with even a shred of talent, anyway. I took out Seth Harker! I took out Steve Studnuts! I took out Trey Vincent! I put Sarah the Jobber Slayer on the sidelines, and ended the career of Atomo the Living Robot, as well as COUNTLESS others. For you see... I AM... the Legend Killer. Place any so-called "icon" in front of me... and baby, they... will... FALL! And in the March Mayhem tournament ALONE, I obliterated the legend of Sergeant Genocide, and when I faced Coma, one of the longest active members of the BoB roster, and possible legend, well, babe, it was only inevitable that I wipe the floor with his confused ass!

Axl: And then, in the finals of March Mayhem, I stood... with three legendary... LEGENDS. Well, two legends, and a guy whose name is a BLATANT rip-off of Parodyox Inc. ... Anyway, I defeated that degenerate, Jim. I defeated Mr. Paradox, best known for being Sir Zeno's lackey. And of course, I, and I alone, defeated that drug-addicted has-been, douja! Which, obviously, means that I, and I alone, AM the #1 contender to the most undeserving champion in BoB... no, make that e-sports-entertainment HISTORY!!!~1one

Axl: After so many BoB Legends have fallen at the Metal God's feet, there is but one thing left for me to do... and that is capture the Only World Title That Matters. With XCW now gone, and its title along with it, I MUST stake my claim, once again, as the absolute best in this business. And with people like Steve Studnuts, Trey Vincent, and the rest of those geezers out of the way, people that stood in the way of young, hip, edgy, trendy talent, such as myself... It is now time... MY time... to take what is, and truly, what was ALWAYS meant to be mine... the big gold belt.

Axl: One thing I'd like to address. After the attacks I orchestrated... such brutal, bloody, waffle-laden attacks... Comedy Central decided that BoB programming was to violent to air at such an early timeslot. Well, here's a message to BigBoss. As leader of Gunzzz and YoYozzz-

Kevin Ass: Whoa... Gunnzzz... and YoYozzz? What kinda jacked up-

Axl: What, Kev?

Kevin Ass: Uh... er... nothin' boss. Just reciting a poem.

Crotch Hall: Poem my ASS! Axl, isn't that name sorta... gay?

Axl: Yeah, Gunnzzz and YoYozzz, or GaYY for short. What's wrong with that?

Ass and Crotch: ... Nevermind.

Axl: As I was saying... As leader of GaYY, we have an ultimatum. At C.A.B., you, Big B, made a challenge. You wanted me to choose a member of XCW to face a randomly chosen member of the BoB roster. Well, I say, how about we make things a whole LOT more interesting? You choose three names out of that Medium-Sized Bucket of yours, and I'll bring the band. THIS band. Kevin Ass... Crotch Hall... and mio, the NEXT Only World Champion That Matters. With one stipulation. Your team wins? I'll talk with my cousin Ernie VanHalen, who is a major figure at Nickelodeon. Maybe we can work out a deal to get a slot between Rocko's Modern Life and Rugrats. BUT... We win? And I'm named the #1 contender, once and for all, no takesie backsies!!! Let's see if you have the grapefruits to accept this challenge, Big B... because if you don't? The attacks... they'll have only JUST begun. But this time... noone... and I MEAN noone... will be safe. Because we're GaYY... we're here to stay... get USED TO IT!

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on
==================================================================================
===============
Enter: OklaComa.
===============



:: Sunday, August 19th, 2007 - 7:45 p.m. ::

~ Location: Metal Manor ~

[The scene opens inside Axl's master bedroom. Axl is sitting on the edge of his bed, in a frilly, hotpink robe, legs crossed... as he speaks over a smallish, silver cell phone.]

Axl: Tifa, I'm starting to worry. I mean, given the situation, the three oponents Big Boss chooses could be ANYONE! I mean, this company has seen the likes of Tony Hawk, Rage Against the Machine, AND-

Tifa: [on the other end of the line] - Axl! Calm down. It's obvious by now to everyone who the three are going to be. I mean, they're just about the only guys without a match!

Axl: ... Poink?

Tifa: ... Axl. Think about it. Who have you been trying to get into a match with for the past couple of weeks?

Axl: ... Narf?

Tifa: ... SMP, YOU MORON!!! And it's OBVIOUS by now he's going to be teaming with RX. So, if I were you and those two goons you call lackeys, I'd-

Axl: Hey Tifa, who are ya talkin' to?

Tifa: ... What in the...

[Tifa turns around in the computer chair of the Metal Manor, before putting the telephone down.]

Tifa: AXL! I thought you were supposed to be at the store picking up the groceries?!?!

Axl: Well... I was on my way downstairs. When I remembered that I left the tv on. So, I went back to my room, and started to turn it off, when I saw my robe just lying around, all wrinkled up, so I was like, Man, that needs to be put away or something, ya know? So, I picked it up, and it was all soft and nice, and like... well, I decided to put it back on. Which was a good thing, because I had forgotten to put any clothes on after taking the robe off in the first place when I got out of bed. So-

Tifa: So basically, what you're saying is, you really didn't plan on going to the store in the first place... did you.

Axl: Well...

Tifa: So, if you're down here now... who was it that was just saying 'Narf' and 'Poink' ? ? ?

Axl: Ohhh, him? That's my third cousin, OklaComa. He's... well... he's a bit on the... he's... he's sorta...

Tifa: Retarded?

Axl: Well, I wouldn't... yeah. Yeah, he's retarded. But damn, does he play a mean air kazoo!

[Note: That reminds me. The 4th of September is the big "Battle of the Air Bands", and after seeing one of my colleagues entering the field of Air Entertainment, I've decided to throw myself into the Battle. All I need is an Air Xylophone player, Air Jug player, and possibly an Air Harmonica player, that is, if the deal I have with the professional Air Maracca player I'm in talks with falls through.]

Axl: Hey man, my cousin can play a MEAN air kazoo!

[Phff. I'm looking for REAL musicians. By the way, to the disembodied narrator that can play the air cow bell; There MAY be a spot open for you. For a band name, what do you think of this; Hot Air. ...?]

Tifa: ... I think I'm SURROUNDED by hot air right now. But anyway, Axl-

[Suddenly, OklaComa stumbles down the staircase. He's a young man, in denim jeans, brown cowboy boots, a black, cut-sleeve work shirt, and a white cowboy hat. And his face... washed over with a look of dumbfoundedness... and a tounge hanging out at the side of his mouth, dripping with saliva.]

OklaComa: Cousin Axl! Cousin Axl! Cuz... COUSIN AXL!!! I made a poopie an'... I made... I MADE A POOPIE, and it was good!!!

Axl: That's nice O.C. ...

OklaComa: An' ... An' ... AND AXL! COUSIN AXL! Hotdogs are made from catfish because God wanted it that way!!!

Axl: Tifa... you know what to do.

OklaComa: An'... AND COUSIN AXL!!! The aliems in my brain said to... to free all the aminals in the glue factory! So I bit him!

*WHACK*

[OklaComa falls to the floor, face first, as Tifa stands above him, bat in hand.]

Tifa: Do you think that'll send him back in the coma?

Axl: Meh, who cares. As long as it knocks him out long enough for us to drop him off in Crotch and Ass's backyard.

Tifa: Heh, yeah. Dumping trash on your lackey's lawn... priceless.

Axl: Totally!

*they high-five*

~ to be continued... ~

=============================================



:: Sunday, August 19th, 2007 - 8:45 p.m. ::

~ Location: 69th Street on the Corner of Bungholio Drive - Nowhere, Oklahoma ~

[The scene opens inside a trailer on Bungholio Drive, a few blocks down from the Metal Manor. An older model television set is on, playing Axl's latest rant. Crotch Hall is sitting on a beat-up sofa, feet up on... well, apparantly, he's using his pal Kevin Ass as a footrest...]

Ass: Hey man! When do I get to use YOU as a footrest?

Crotch: Hey yo! Keep yer pants on, chico! I'll let yooz take a seat when I get done watchin' dis here promo, mang. Not a second sooner! Uh... chico.

Ass: Jeez, just cuz I'm the big, tall, strong, muscular one, doesn't mean my back can take you proppin' up yer damn dirty feet on it for about an hour while our "glorious leader" rambles on about jack squat...

Crotch: HEY!!! [Crotch gets up from his seat, leading to Ass standing to his own feet, clutching his back with one hand while he stares at Crotch]

Ass: Well? Don't you agree ? ? ?

[Crotch stares at Ass for a bit... before sitting back down.]

Crotch: Dammit man, you know I do. Axl couldn't lead himself out of a damn paper bag!

Ass: [takes a seat next to Crotch] I mean, why in the hell did we turn down a job as chauffers to work for this jack-off??? Atleast as chauffers, we'd get respect and dignity... and, well, money. This guy... makes us keep our lousy XCW-given names. He relegates us to nothing more than his personal bodygaurds... and let's face it, if he's gonna pay us, it's gonna be in peanuts. Literally.

Crotch: Well... I dunno, I sorta like peanuts.

Ass: Week OLD peanuts?

Crotch: EWWW! Axl really IS a horrible leader!

Ass: Yeah, but dude... we can't say anything to him. Or else... we'd be COMPLETELY out of a job. Stale peanuts or not, a man's gotta eat.

Crotch: So what do we do?

Ass: Well... I have a plan. We trick Axl into thinking we're totally, 100% behind him. And then, at Mano e Zeno... we ditch him, in the ring, and let whatever team Big Boss chooses totally decimate him. And when we do that, Big B. will be SO grateful we got BoB onto Nickelodeon, that he'll make us official members of the BoB roster, and he'll kick out that no-good, dirty, rotten, FIEND, Axl Van Stallin!

Crotch: Hmm... needs to rhyme a bit more.

Ass: ... What does?

Crotch: Stallin doesn't really rhyme that well with Halen. How about something like... uh... Axl Van GAY-len!

Ass: Dude. So not the point right now.

Crotch: Oh... sorry, I'll try and stay more on task.

Ass: By the way... you ever feel like you're... you know... being watched?

Crotch: Well... there was this one time in the boy's bathroom at junior high...

[Suddenly, a noise is heard from behind the TV set. Ass and Crotch turn their head toward the television, both arching an eyebrow. They both head over to the set... when, from out of the blue, OklaComa leaps OVER the TV, and in front of Ass and Crotch, scaring the duo so much they fall backwards, onto the couch. OklaComa has a goofy smile plastered across his face, and is looking no worse the wear from his meeting with the brunt end of Tifa's bat only an hour earlier. Only this time, he's clad in a SpongeBob Squarepants footy-pajama outfit, along with a green bath towel wrapped around his neck as a cape... he also is wearing a pair of yellow dish gloves, and the same white cowboy hat from before.]

OklaComa: PoodleMan has come to save the day! Batten down the latches, and brisk away the rubble frenzies!!!

Crotch: ... Yo?

Ass: Dude, where in the blue FVCK did THIS guy come from???

Crotch: Well... I'd say that giant hole over there behind the television may be some sort of clue.

Ass: Thanks alot there, Captain Sarcasm...

OklaComa: Noodles taste like plaster because the Giant Head had his way with Mother Theresa!

Crotch & Ass: ...

OklaComa: Parf!!!

Ass: I... think it may be time to try and ditch this guy.

*WHACK*

[OklaComa falls to the floor, again, face first, again, as Crotch Hall stands above him, bat in hand.]

Crotch: Way ahead of ya.

*15 minutes later...*

:: Sunday, August 19th, 2007 - 9:00 p.m. ::

~ Location: Metal Manor. ... Again. ~

[The scene opens, again, inside Axl's master bedroom... again. Axl is setting the alarm clock, and is about to lay down to get some early rest... when he hears a knock at the door. He goes to answer it... only to find his cousin OklaComa standing, in his SponeBob pj's, big grin, cowboy hat, the whole nine. O.C. waves at his cousin Axl.]

OklaComa: *waving* HI COUSIN AXL!!!

[Axl is left there... looking, distraught, at his seemingly boomerang of a cousin... before slapping his palm against his face, and lowering his head into his hands... shaking his head... silently mumbling to himself...]

Axl: Why me...

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on

===================================
:: Monday, August 20th, 2007 - 2:45 a.m. ::

~ Location: Crotch and Ass's Trailer... ~

[Crotch and Ass finish mending the hole in the wall, as Ass turns to Crotch.]

Ass: Ya know... Axl ain't that bad of a guy.

Crotch: Yeah, maybe we shouldn't ditch him in that six-man tag match.

Ass: Yeah.

Crotch: Yup.

Ass: ...

Crotch: ...

Ass: Wanna go and see if there's any naked, drunken, baldy videos of Britney Spears on the TV?

Crotch: Nah, I've got something better.

[Crotch walks out the front door.]

Ass: ...

[...]

*CRASH*

[The wall behind Crotch and Ass's tv, at the very spot that had just been fixed, suddenly is broken once again, as a monster truck backs up... running right over the TV. Crotch hops out of the monster truck's door, and pulls a trash bag out of the back of the truck, tossing it roughly to the ground. Something inside the bag thrashes around wildly, as Crotch takes a rope from the opening, and allows for a person to claw their way out... Someone with a bald head, who looks a tad on the drunken side, and is missing a few pieces of clothing. As in... any.]

Crotch: I present to you, in all of her naked, drunken, and bald beauty, Britney-

Ass: Smears!

Crotch: Huh?

Ass: I'd recognize that... er... FACE, anywhere! And hey, it looks like the carpet matches the drapes! Or lack thereof!

Smears: Dammit, why does that camera have a BoB logo on it! Like, I thought I LEFT that stinkin' place for somethin' better! I leave there, marry Pete Trable's former DJ, KY-Jelly, I have one... or two... or possibly three bouncing baby boys. Perhaps a girl... or four. And I plan on starting a wonderful family... and then JUST because I take a tiiiny sip of booze, and decide to kinda, sorta strip naked in the middle of a Bar Mitvah and shave my head with a pair of hedge clippers, I wind up here, again, in front of those damn BoB people! Well no more! No more, ya hear me?! America, this is what YOU made me do! America, you ARE the weakest link... GOODBYE!

[Smears reaches into the trash bag, and pulls out a shot gun. Somehow, she places the front end through her own breasts, and with the power of the almighty goddess Clitoria, Britney Smears uses her vagina to pull the trigger and commit suicide... splattering her brain all over the monster truck... leaving Crotch and Ass stunned. Finally, Ass speaks.]

Ass: ... Wow. That beat the HELL out of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre...

Crotch: ... Damn.

~ you're all going to die... ~
==================================================================================
========
GNA presents: Total Non-Stop Beaners
========



:: Sunday, August 26th, 2007 - 3:16 p.m. ::

~ Location: The Nowhere Zone ~

[The camera opens to the newly constructed Nowhere Zone... which is basically the Metal Manor's backyard, with a hastily thrown together "ring", made of a few steel poles driven into different spots of the yard, with frayed rope tied from pole to pole to give the look of the "squared circle". Only, this "ring" has TWELVE 'posts' instead of four, creating the first ever 12 sided ring. No doubt an innovation in the great history of the sport...]

[Tifa stands in the middle of the 12 Sides of Steel Poles, microphone in hand...]

Tifa: Ladies and gentlemen... [the camera pans out to find a few chairs occupied by Axl's ever present stuffed animals] ... Please, put your hands together... and pay homage, to the greatest individual to EVER grace ANY ring, whether it consist of 4, 6, 8, or even 12 sides! Ever since he stepped foot into BoB a little over one year ago, he has had countless doubters... he has felt the looks... the words of spite... and most disgusting of all, people questioning his sexual orientation. But last night, he proved them ALL wrong! He proved, without a shadow of a doubt, that he IS... the Metal God. The Leader of the Rock-O-Lution. And above all else, the King... of Queens. ... Er, well... you get the picture. ... Is the video rolling? The... oh, it's... not? ... Should I just stall for... oh, it's roll-

[The shot changes to that of a pre-taped video...]

Voice-over Guy: Gentlemen... we CAN rebuild him.



Voice-over Guy: We can make him sexier...



Voice-over Guy: We can make him metal ... y... er.



Voice-over Guy: Gentlemen... we can rebuild him... again. But it'll cost extra.

[Shot of Axl on a doctor's table, covered in bandages, as a doctor comes into view... with a whirring drill. Close up view of Axl's eyes, looking just a tad frightened.]

Voice-over Guy: But most importantly... We can make him... the ONLY World Champion... That Matters.

[The sound of a strong power chord hits, and Axl's voice comes in with a gravely tone...]

Axl: Behold the God... The God of Metal. ... On your knees, BoB!

["Bow Down", Gunzzz and YoYozzz first song together, hits on the Nowhere Zone's 'speaker system', which amounts to a tape deck on top of a tv tray. The Manor's back door is opened by Jonny Dio or Joey Whitesnake, or whatever his name is, they all sorta meld together to me. Cheap laser lights flash all over in front of the open door, as the crowd comes alive for their World Champion... well... atleast, the tape deck plays a recording of a crowd coming alive. Whether it's from a crowd coming alive for the champ or not is questionable at the least...]

[And through the door he emerges... OWTTM held firmly against his shoulder, as the new king-pin of the leader in parody sports entertainment stands tall, shining in his moment. Axl VanHalen... new BoB Champion, and Chairman of Nowhere's one and only wrestling promotion, GNA. Axl wears a rented suit, a pair of lime tinted shades with hot pink plastic frames, and his hair, tied back in a ponytail. He reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out a bottle of... what's that... is that? Molson? Not only did he dress up like a Mexican, but now he's trying to soak up a little bit of the Canadian lifestyle as well. Our champion's a regular globetrotter, eh?]

[Axl takes a sip from the bottle, before pouring the Molson all over his hair and suit. Hope he has enough money from renting the suit to be able to wash and dry it... He tosses the bottle away, before sauntering toward the ring, and when he stands in front of the 1 out of 12 sides closest to his stuffed animals, Axl throws his fists back in the air, lifts his head to the air, and spits a stream of Molson into the air. So, I guess that answers the question; does Axl spit... or swallow?]

Axl: HEY!

[Err... sorry boot that. ... 'bout. 'BOUT that. Have I been drinking Molson.... anyway. Axl steps into the ring, and takes the microphone from Tifa, before bowing his head... and raising the mic to his mouth, still holding the belt over his shoulder.]

Axl: Everyone SAID... I'd never make it. Everyone SAID... I was destined to be some curtain-jerking, second-rate, ham and egger. But dammit... [lifting the belt high into the air, and looking into the camera] I proved... them... WRONG. *canned cheers* [Axl slings the belt back over his shoulder] Yes... because as I've said, time, and time, and TIME again, I AM... the Metal GOD. No... no, no, no. I'm not just that. Hell, I'm not even just the leader of the Rock-O-Lution. Because as of last night... the Rock-O-Lution didn't just COME... ... it CAME! It came all over Sir Zeno. It came all over that sleazy boobie enhancer Sillacone M. PUTZ!!! And of course, it came alllll over that burrito stuffing beaner, Insano Whatevero!!!

Axl: And now that Zeno has FINALLY been dethroned of the gold he never truly deserved, I hold it here over MY shoulder... the Rock-O-Lution HAS come to pass. And as the Rock-O-Lution has fulfilled its prophecy, it is time... Time for the Metal God to lead his flock. Come to me, my followers... come to me... my children.

["Bow Down" plays once again, and to the ring come Joey, Jimmy, and Jonny. I won't even BOTHER with their last names, as it would probably take me the rest of the night to get them right... The trio of Axl's jobber henchmen roll into the ring... and after wiping off a few grass stains from their already stained and greasy clothing, GaYY take their stance behind their leader.]

Axl: Welcome... to the new, and IMPROVED Gunnzzz and YoYozzz. I have found three men that will be PROUD to be GaYY. Three men with the strength, agility, and perseverance to do what Crotch and Ass NEVER could... and that... is... uh...

Jimmy: I can squirt milk out of my eyelid!

Jonny: I can lick my moob!

Joey: I can... play with my nuts.

Jimmy: Eww!

Jonny: Gross!

Joey: What? [takes a bag of peanuts out of his pocket] What's gross?

Jimmy & Jonny: Ohhh.

Joey: There. Now that that bag of peanuts is out. [reaches back into his pocket, before... uh... er...]

Jonny & Jimmy: ...

Axl: That's... disturbing... But nonetheless, my true flock has risen... with ME... as their savior. Their savior... and the savior of BoB! For you see, with Axl VanHalen as the Only World Champion that Matters, I will bring Brawlers on a Budget from the gutter... to the pinnacle of the sports world. Hell... the world itself! BoB will be on every TV, in every arena, with merchandise out the wazzoo!!! Noone will be able to escape the inescapable wrath of BoB... and I will be there leading the charge! You people used to call me a homo... a queer. Well now? You can simply call me... a VISIONARY. And my vision, is to lead BoB to the promised land ; Network Television!!! With the Metal God as champion, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that this company will finally begin to gain a bit of upward momentum... instead of wading around in the cess pool of its own garbage.

Axl: But even though I may be the franchise that BoB now surrounds itself around, I still feel humble within my great, big, warm, fuzzy heart. And that's why I've decided to create this, Groovy Nowhere Action, wrestling company. It's not just another one of my fly by night feds devised simply to boost my ego, oh no, no, no. Because why boost my ego, when I already KNOW I'm the best there is... I've got the belt to PROVE that! [lifts title into the air] But, what GNA is, is a company run by me, filled with some of the greatest legends of ALL the times!

Jonny: Axl... that kinda sounded like Arnold Shwarzennegar. What you just did there.

Jimmy: Heh. Yeah. "I vant to pump-"

Jimmy & Jonny: "JOO UP!!!"

Axl: And tonight, with GNA's premier event, I have decided upon one very important detail... From now on, the OWTTM will be a DUAL title! Yes, say good bye to the BoB Only World Title That Matters...

[Axl lifts up the belt, as Jimmy and Jonny hold a flaming trash can... which Axl drops the belt into!!!!!~11one]

Axl: And hello... to the BoB - GNA... Only World Title That Matters!

[Joey brings the NEW belt to Axl which... pretty much looks EXACTLY like the old belt, only instead of the BoB logo, it has... the BoB logo. With the letters "GNA" written underneath with a Sharpie.]

Axl: Yes everyone, a new era truly HAS dawned. The era... of Axl! And as my first act as GNA Chairman, I've booked myself into a title defense, right here, right now! Yes, I truly am a giving man. So giving in fact, that I'm GIVING one of the many Hall of Fame icons in GNA a shot at this strap. And seeing as how my first title defense in a BoB ring will be against the man I supposedly cheated out of a shot at the gold, and that man just so happens to be of Latin descent... well, I've decided to throw together the first of a challenge series I'm affectionately reffering to as: The Rock And roll Tough-guy Tournament, or - The RATT ! Every event, I'll throw out an open challenge to any GNA legend to step inside the 12 Sides of Steel Poles with mio. The challenges will range from dangerous endeavors like SCAFFOLD MATCHES, all the way to dangerous endeavors like BUNGEE MATCHES!!!!! ... ! And if they best me? Then I'll personally give them MY BoB - GNA OWTTM!!! I'm THAT damn confident in my ability. I am the Metal God... the OWCTM... and of course, I am...

Your Savior.

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO -

Voice: Hold on one minute there... essa!!!

[The camera fades back in a couple of seconds later, where we find Axl holding the belt at his side, looking out at the back door... to find a Mexican wrestler standing, only unlike Insano, this man goes without a mask. His hair, back in a mullet... his whole image looking very familiar...]

Man: Or should I say... Old-hay on one inute-may ere-thay... essa... ay!

Axl: Hey, look what the chiauauah dragged in! Pig... Latino... HEAT! PLH, essa, compadre, mi RAZA! It's time... that you had your shot at the OWTTM!

PLH: Ay chico, I'm just here for the check you promised me. I've got seven hudred and sixty two relatives to feed. And that's just on my mami's side!

Axl: Hey, about that check-

[Suddenly, a lowrider drives over Pig Latino Heat... instantly killing him. The driver is Piggie's second cousin twice removed, and as he gets out, he lifts the trunk, and seven hundred and sixty one other relatives of Piggie hop out, and gather in front of the back door of the Manor. The cousin grabs a microphone.]

Rey Mysteriotypical: VIVA LOS HEAT! VIVA LOS BURRITOSSS!!!

Axl: What the fuck is he talking about?

Tifa: Well, if I remember my ECWCWWFE history correctly, Los Burritos was the tag team of Pig Latino Heat and Rey Mysteriotypical.

Axl: I know! This Mexican jumping bean wants a shot at my belt! And he wants to face me in a burrito eating contest!

Tifa: ... Ok.

[And so, a few minutes later, Joey, Jimmy, and Jonny have set up a table filled with bean burritos. Axl stands beside Rey, as Tifa holds a gun in the air... before firing. Axl immediately rushes into his plate stacked with burritos, but a bird falls in Rey's plate, dead from Tifa's gun fire. Rey, unaware of the fallen birdie, lifts a burrito and tosses it into his mouth... a burrito which just so happened to be stuck to the bloody remains of the bird. Rey immediately chokes on the bird's... beak... possibly a feather, hell if I know. Rey drops to the grass, grabbing onto his throat... as Axl finishes off the last burrito, succesfully defending his title. Tifa runs over to Axl and happily raises his hand into the air... which he rips away as he runs for the bathroom inside.]

[Tifa looks down at Rey... and taps him in the side with her foot. Seeing that he's not among the living, she motions for his family to take him away. Wow... two dead members of the Heat family in one night. GNA truly has made... an iMPACT!]

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on

---------------------------------------------------------------

[Scene opens to the Metal Manor. Axl walks out of the bathroom, waving a hand in front of his face.]

Axl: That's the last time I put extra beans in my burritos. Yech...

[Jonny, Jimmy, and Joey walk up to Axl, with clothespins on their noses. Joey holds a bag, which he holds up.]

Joey: Guess what we found!

Axl: Talent?

Joey: No, better!

[Joey opens up the bag, and lo and behold, he pulls out three belts, which may be quite familiar to BoB fans.]

Axl: You're kidding me.

Jonny: Exactly! It's the 'You Got To Be Kidding, I Ain't Doing That, Are You Out of Your Frickin' Mind' Hardcore Title! AND the Four-Play Titles! Jimmy was on E-Bay, and pulled out the highest bid at 2 bucks and a pack of ABC gum!

Jimmy: Yeah, but one thing... what are we gonna do with 'em?

Axl: Well don't you see? You three are now GNA champions! You've won these titles in perhaps the most grueling contest of them all; The E-Bay Brawl for All! Jimmy and Jonny, from now on, you two will be the GNA Four-Play Champs, and Joey, you get to keep the YGTBKIADTAYOOYFM title. So, bring the gold with you to the den. We can put them up next to my Only World Title That Matters, right over the fireplace.

[Axl leads his flock off camera, as we stay on the view of the bathroom. Tifa walks by, and just as she's about to pass by the bathroom, she catches the strong gust of Axl's wind. Only one word can escape her mouth...]

Tifa: ... DAMN!

- cut -
==================================================================================
========
Restart Game...
========



:: Saturday, July 21st, 2006 ::

It was the best of days... It was the worst of days.

It was the beginning... and the end.

Where one door had closed... another was just opening.

And his day... was fast approaching.

On this day, our Savior looked upon the land of BoB...

And he saw it was bland, and... kinda boring.

It was time... for a new leader.

>>> <<<

"I'M the future of this business, baby! And now, there ain't nothin' holdin' me down. I've split up with Rose. I've dropped my agent, What's-his-face. I've sold WCWF, and as for this New Age CRAP?! The only music that's truly in my blood... the music that's been there all along... is the beat of Metal. Rock n' Roll Forever, b!tches!!! The Swiss Army belt... it's coming to me. The other 15 men in Sunday's Battle Royale? May as well take a rain check. The Rock-O-Lution has begun."

"Are you ready?"

- The Book of GwarTellicus, Chapter Eleventeen...

:: January - 2007 ::

He walked into the Battle of Royale.

He charged through many... and lasted till there were few.

In the end, he lost the battle...

But twas only the beginning... of the war.

>>> <<<

"Some days... you wake up. You take a shower... and you think you're ready for the day. Today... I got up, took a shower... and now? I know. I know I'm ready for today... tomorrow... the next day... Hell. 2007 is going to be the year. THE year. The year... of the Rock-O-Lution."

"Are you ready?"

- The Book of GwarTellicus, Chapter Zero-hundred...

:: April - 2007 ::

His ascension truly began.

His power began to take hold.

The doubters... Some continued to doubt. Others...

Others began to Believe.

Taking firm grasp of the gold of the Swiss Army, our savior moved onward...

>>> <<<

:: July - 2007 ::

For he knew no dying... Death being nothing more than a sheep in wolf's clothing.

The Lord of All Lords freely gave of his Swiss Army gold...

Only to begin taking the final step in the journey of the Rock-O-Lution.

Noone can step in the way of a God on a mission.

Especially when that God...

Is named Axl VanHalen.

>>> <<<

One year. Spent fighting for, winning, and losing, the Swiss Army Belt... spent creating, and ending, his own wrestling promotions, for no more reason than to boost his own ego... spent writing and performing his own music, bringing back the hard edged sound of the hardest rock around - Hair Metal. One year. Spent devising the master plan to take down BoB's best talent: Trey Vincent... Seth Harker... Steve Studnuts... the Snapmare Kid. And in the end, after all the jobber feds, hair metal, Swiss Army Belt hoopla, and waffle laden shenanigans, Axl VanHalen's journey cullminated with his goal accomplished... In quite possibly THE greatest swerve... ever.

MM: Look at this. Mano is trying to use Generic Ref to help him get up. Zeno looks to be ready to finally finish off the challenger.

Styles: What is SHE doing out here? Anne O'Rexic has just come in the ring to come face to face with her alleged baby daddy!

MM: Look out from behind.

[Nikki Mantle winds up and delivers an underhanded...]

Styles: Testicular claw to Zeno. OH my GOD!

MM: Zeno with a wicked elbow to the side of Mantle's head. Mano's up.

Styles: HOODANCANRANA. MANO HOLDS ON! ONE! TWO! THREE! HE GOT 'IM!

MM: He did?

Styles: Insano Mano won. He WON! History has been made here tonight! Insano Mano has done the impossible! He has won the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS. A young man who put his body on the line for little to no pay in Suicida Mexico, now has made it all the way to the top while making little to no money for Brawlers On a Budget in Sin City!

MM: Zeno is chasing off Generic Ref. He can't believe it. And frankly, neither can I.

Styles: The odds were stacked against him. Beaten earlier, and drunk on tequila, he somehow STILL managed to beat Sir Zeno!

NH: Here is the winner of the match....and....NEW BOB ONLY WORLD CHAMPION THAT MATTERS....Insano Mano!

Crowd: BOOOOOOO!

[The ring is being bombed with trash and drinks.]

Styles: Where's the riot squad when you need them.

MM: Mano is asking for the microphone...

IM: Qué puede yo dice pero....

Styles: Wait a second...

[Mano rips off the mask.]

Axl Van Halen: FUCK. YOU. ALL! GOOD NIGHT SIN CITY!

[Cut to Sir Zeno's shocked face. Fade to black with DEAFENING boos.]


>>> <<<

:: Monday, August 27th, 2007 - 6:13 p.m. ::

~ Location: The BoB BallRoom... Sin City ~

[It is a couple of days after Mano e Zeno. The fans are gone... the BoB'sters are gone... except for one. The former leader of the Rock-O-Lution... and now? Simply... Your Savior.]

[Axl sits on a corner post, holding the big gold belt in his lap... as he looks down at it in his hands. He breaths in, before letting out a big sigh. The camera zooms in a bit, and we find that the letters "GNA" have been wiped clean from beneath the BoB logo...]

Axl: My dream... to be on top of the world... looking down at all those below me... It's finally been realized. So why... why do I feel so empty...

[The camera slowly pans around... where the focus had at first been on the back of Axl's head, we close in to a closer shot of Axl's face... He continues to look dow at the belt... before lifting his head... revealing the most sinister, ugly, vicous smirk ever presented by a human being. Axl smiles... but a smile devoid of joy... happiness... yet not a fake smile. A smile simply dripping with evil intentions... Axl's eyes... glinting terrifyingly in the dim light of the empty arena. Axl's hair, seemingly flowing in the wind... but the question is - what wind?]

Axl: Emptiness... a feeling that many have... for many reasons. For me? It's quite simple... I haven't had a bite to eat since those damn burritos! *rim shot* But seriously folks... Yes, after one whole year of clawing my way up the ranks... I've reached the top. But in all truthfulness, I do have a bit of... uneasiness. Because after the long, sordid travel to claim this title as my own, I am left with one question... [Axl tosses the title over his shoulder] Now that the journey to the top is over... where do I go from here?

Axl: I tried doing what I've done for so long, putting together a tiny fed here in Nowhere, OK, so that I have some easy competitio to plow through. But the truth is, that never worked... and probably never will. It doesn't draw the fans to me. I know what does though. It's not the matches against crappy wrestlers not associated with BoB. It's the CHARISMA!!! MY charisma! The charisma that simply drips from my hot bod like maple syrup on a Belgian waffle! And babe, in the end, that's all I need. All I need is to be myself. So, I've taken out the 12 poles from my backyard, tossed away all the props for "GNA", and have released all of the "legends" I had planned to defeat in poker matches and video games. Because it's time... time that the Metal God began acting like the Only World Champion that Matters I am...

[Axl drops from the turnbuckle, still holding the title over his shoulder. He walks toward the middle of the ring, and turns an eye to the camera's lens.]

Axl: I am the BoB Only World Champion that Matters...

I Am the Metal God, and leader of Gunzzz and YoYozzz...

I AM...

[Suddenly, the camera goes black... with two words in the center of the screen, in blood red...]

yOuR sAvIoR...

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on
==================================================================================
========
It's Showtime, FOLKS...
========



:: Tuesday, August 28th, 2007 - 2:00 p.m. ::

~ Location: Jimmothy's Bar N' Grill - Nowhere, Oklahoma ~

[We open outside of Jimmothy Hankzarian's Bar and Grill, on the Main Street of Nowhere, OK. A man is just about to walk inside the tavern, when he hears the sounds of a tape deck playing from the roof of the establishment... A deep toned woman's voice is heard...]

Some Chick: When a man's heart dies... he withers up and... dies. And he's dead. But when a GOD's heart dies, he becomes black... not douja black, but more like Death black. All evil and shit. And when a METAL God's heart dies? Well... that's when you're really fucked. From the ashes of the greatest man to ever walk the Earth, there comes a Savior. A Savior in spandex, hair coated in spray, and face covered in make-up. As we look to the skies for our champion, we find him playing his guitar... strumming away with the force of a thousand Paul Stanleys. And as he slams the guitar into the ground, sending plastic and string all over the damn place, he lifts his title into the sky... ready to strike down the same gnarly dude that created him. It has begun... The battle between good and evil... right and wrong... radical and totally-reeking-of-heinosity. Leading his followers... his sons... he comes riding upon a steel horse. He's a cowboy. And yes, he IS wanted... dead or alive. With a voice of the angels, and the body of Brad Pitt, Fabio, and Keeanu Reeves combined... This... is... Axl.

[The sounds of "Hide and Seek and Destroy" by GwarTellica plays, and the man at the bar's door looks up to the roof... where there is a fishing pole. And attached to the fishing pole's hook ; Axl VanHalen. Only he's clad in a hot pink trenchcoat, hair dyed lime green, and his face... covered in paint, resembling a certain "Showman". ... You know... the "Scorpion". No, not the band. And not that guy from Mortal Kombat. ... "The Crow"? ... NO, NOT THE MOVIE! UGH, Sting! ... NOT THE SINGER! Aw screw it...]

[Joey Dio slowly lowers Axl to the ground, where the would-be customer is beginning to become a bit worried. And you would be too if you were about to come face to face with a man covered in more make-up than Keira Knightley at the Oscars!!! ... *rim shot* ... Ahem... Suddenly, the fishing line breaks and Axl falls right on top of the man, who let's out a yell. Axl stands up and pulls an aluminum baseball bat out from the back of his trenchcoat.]

Axl: Riddle me this, Riddle me that... who's afraid... of the Aluminum Bat!

Man: GET OFF! You're standing RIGHT on top of me!

Axl: I've been up and down that lonely road of faith. And all I know for sure is... nothing's for sure!

Man: WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!

Axl: [cups mouth with his hands] WHOOO!

Man: HELP ME! Somebody... get this FREAK off of me!

Axl: It's SHHHHOWTIME... FOLKS!!!

[Axl gets off, and as soon as he does the man lets out a groan.]

Man: My pancreas... yugh.

[Axl walks off camera, and after a few minutes pass the man makes it to his feet. Suddenly, Axl rushes back in with a bat shot to the gut, which drops the man to his hands and knees. Axl smashes the bat into the guy's back, which brings him down on his stomach. Having heard the comotion outside, the bar pours out, with the customers, waitresses, and even the bar tender coming out to see what all the fuss is about. But as they do, Axl drops them all one by one with bat shots to the stomach, head, legs, back, and every other unprotected part of their bodies. And in the end, the sidewalk is littered with the near comatose bodies of nearly a dozen defenseless women and middle-aged men. Good thing for Axl, Jimmothy's doesn't really attract that much of a tough crowd.]

[Axl walks into the bar, and right there, standing in front of him, is young Timmy McJellin', the 5-year-old, blue haired sprout that brought down Axl a few weeks back. And standing alongside is his grumpy old friend, Francis, Death's Jewish cousin.]

Axl: Oh Me... it can't be! I'M OUT OF HERE!!!

[Axl runs out of the bar and grill, as Timmy looks up at Francis.]

Timmy: You fink we scay-ood him, Uncka Francis?

Francis: [lifts a bony hand over his face... er... skull...] Oy vey...

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on
=======================================================================================
[The camera pans around a Katrina ravaged looking stretch of land with uprooted trees, shanty houses with watermarks (THEY'RE REAL ONES!), and other numerous shots of destruction, decay, and ruin. The camera then lifts to a sign that reads "DepressionTown, USA".

Under that sign, a disheveled character sits, wearing tattered clothes, a soiled, 1920's era hat and a scraggly week's growth of facial hair. In his right hand is a bottle, hidden inside a paper bag. It's safe to assume its contents are about 98 proof.

All of a sudden, Bo Diddley's "I'm a Man" begins to play in the background....]

"This is the lowest point of my life...

How could a talentless bum win the one title I've wanted so badly before I could win it, wins it. Shit.

How could a talentless bum win the one title I've wanted my entire career, even though I said I didn't, before I could. Did? Dammit, that's not sounding right.

How could this piece of shit win the ONLY WORLD TITLE THAT MATTERS before I could? He doesn't even pronounce it correctly...

Then he burns it, trashes it in a can of flames. And renames it. Kinda.

He metamorphs three times in the following days, maybe more... I lost count.

He introduces ANOTHER shitty federation with shitty characters nobody cares about even MORE, or perhaps LESS, then they cared about the other ones.

On a good note, two of his flunkies were banished, but more soon followed. At least these guys are cooler, although I think Vince Leppard, Bret Winger, and Jani Dokken would be EVEN cooler."

[He takes a large swig.]

"This is the lowest point, the darkest of days...

Please, somebody pinch me and tell me it's all just a very bad dream."

[He finishes off the bottle and chucks it to the side]

"Of all your sins, you committed the Queen Mother...
You disregarded the advice of others...
You bit the hand that fed you...

..and for that, when the depression lifts, you will most certainly die."

["I'm a Man" becomes louder as ZZ Top's "AFTERBURNER" car pulls up, and out steps a skinny, crackwhore looking lass with brown curly hair and about double Ds choked inside a cheetah patterned halter. A zoom of the license plate reveals BIGMAMA.

The two enter the car, it speeds off, and two guys with long ass beards make a circular motion with their right arms to send it on its way.]
============================================================================================


:: Wednesday, August 29th, 2007 - 3:40 p.m. ::

~ Location: Studio G4 - NowhereWood ~

[We open inside one of the many studios in the NowhereWood filming area of Nowhere, OK. This particular studio, Studio G4, is being used for the taping of an infomercial to be aired on Nowhere Broadcasting Entertainment [NBE], Channel 4. On-set, a man stands in front of an audience, as he extends a hand toward two booths behind him. On a table nearby is a potato...]

Man: Hello folks, my name is Knott Hardly, and today, I'm going to be demonstrating my handy dandy new invention - The Telepor-TATER 3000! For years, people have been asking me, "Knott, what's the deal with always having to go to the kitchen to get a potato from the refrigerator? Why can't I just simply have a teleportation device built specificaly to switch myself with a potato already placed in a coresponding teleportation device, afterwards walking back to my original location so I can enjoy the potato that had just been teleported?" Well now, thanks to my invention, the millions and millions of people with this problem can rest easy!

[Suddenly, "U.S.Eh?" by the Canadian Americans plays on the studio speaker. The audience turn their heads to the door of the studio, at the back of the audience seats. A man walks through the door... a man that strikes a remarkable resemblence to the Only World Champion that Matters... Only, wearing hot pink, skin tight, wrestling spandex with lime green lines down the sides ... a lime green weight-lifting belt with the word "Axl-Ster" ... Lime green boots, hot pink shades with lime green lenses ... a black bandana with the word "NowhereWood" printed across the front... and a sleeveless shirt, with the words "The Rock-O-Lution is Runnin' Wild!" covering his manly, handsome, chiseled chest.]

[Walking down the aisle, "The Axl-Ster" shakes his forefinger in the air to the music, stopping once in a while to cup his hand to his ear, taking in the monumental apathetic response of this sold-out studio audience. Upon coming to the front of the stage, he grabs a microphone and speaks...]

Axl-Ster: Well lemme tell ya somethin' Mean Gene!

Knott: Uhm... my name is-

Axl-Ster: IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOUR- ... Whoops, wrong rip-off. Erm... oh yeah! Dude, I've seen the toughest, baddest, no-goodiest guys come, and I've watched 'em fall, brother, right at the hands of these 250 inch pythons, brother, and brother, lemme tell ya dude, those dudes may have been a bunch of instoppable forces, but I'm the red, white, and yellow irrimovable object!!!~11one ... BROTHER! And when the largest tree in the largest forest falls, the next man in that line picks up the pieces, brother! And dude, when that brother meets his sister, their mother and father have to kick out their cousin, because that's one solid gran-pappy, JACK!!!

Knott: What in the blue fuck did you just say?

Axl: I just wanna let the little VanHalenManiacs out there know, that the Axl-Ster dude ISN'T gonna just give up on the red, white, and yellow come White Trash at the Beach!

Knott: White... Beach? ... Wha- ... What in the hell does this have to do with anything? Dammit, is security anywhere in the area? Is there even any security HERE?

Axl: The GaYY World Order can keep askin' dudes and brothers and brothers of dudes, but the Axl-Ster is gonna keep eatin' his pills, drinkin' his piss, and takin' his poops like a good little boy, and in the end, WHATCHA GONNA DO?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? ... WHEN THE ROCK-O-LUTION ... RUNS ... WILD ... ON ... YOOOOUUUU?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!!!!!!!!!~11one - !!!

Knott: ... Huh? [looks at the audience... well, where there WAS an audience] DAMMIT! You chased off my audience! And do you know how long it took me to ATTRACT an audience for this shitty piece of junk? It doesn't even work! I just use smoke and mirrors for the "example" at the end. Hell, why ANYONE would want something like this... I mean, you have to actually PLACE the damn potato in the other transporter, and then, what's the damn point! You're basically wasting more time doing what you could do in half as much! I mean... GOD, I don't even know why the fuck I made this thing in the first place! I'm not a genius! I'm a loser! A loser, ya hear me, A LOSER!

[Knott takes a gun out of his pocket, lifts it to his head, and-]

Speakers: GaYY-GaYY-GaYY World Order.

["Voodoo Chili Dog" by GwarTellica plays, as Joey Dio, Jonny Leppard, and Jimmy Whitesnake all come down the aisle, wearing lime green shirts with hot pink "GaYY" logos printed across the front...]



[Jonny, Jimmy, and Joey walk toward the Axl-Ster, menacingly... cunningly. The Axl-Ster doubles up his fists... Joey Dio goes for a punch, but the Axl-Ster grabs the right hand, before waggling a finger in front of Joey's face, letting him know he just made a yoooge mistake. The Axl-Ster throws punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After punch...]

[After- oh, ok, all three are laying down, coincidentally side-by-side-by-side. Evenly. God bless sports entertainment, the most realistic sport in the history of everything!]

[The Axl-Ster backs up a few steps, before running full speed, leaping in the air, and bringing a crushing leg drop down over all three men! And the crowd's gone- ... away. Yeah, forgot that part...]

[The Axl-Ster stands up before turning an eye to Knott Hardly. The Axl-Ster takes a look at the packed arena... perhaps there's a photo of MSG lying around in his back pocket? Anyway, Knott arches an eyebrow... before shrugging his shoulders and extending a hand. The Immortal One looks down at the hand... back up at Knott... before accepting the show of... uh... potentially selling a piece of crap infomercial product, I guess? ...]

[When suddenly, Joey, Jonny, and Jimmy pound away on Knott's back, bringing him to the ground. The trio smash and bash away on the fallen body of the poor, helpless, defenseless Transpor-TATER salesman. After a sound thrashing, they rip off his shirt, before the Axl-Ster slowly rips off his own... revealing the same GaYY shirt worn by his henchmen... er, well... you know. The Axl-Ster asks Jimmy for a can of spray-paint, but it seems like they forgot to bring it. "Well..." says the Axl-Ster, "I guess we'll just have to make due". And so, he grabs the gun dropped by Knott earlier. He aims it at the guy's back... and before long, the "GaYY" logo IS displayed prominently on Knott's backside... only instead of in the safe spray of paint... Knott's back is bloody with holes spelling out the logo of the Gunnzzz and YoYozzz.]

[The Axl-Ster takes off the bandana, and throws it to the floor, showing off his long, golden, and definitely NOT balding hair. I guess we can go ahead and call the man Axl now...]

Axl: Of course!

[Ok, well, Axl removes his sunglasses, and clips them on his shirt. He snaps his fingers, and his henchmen [now I can say that...] get on their hands and knees, side-by-side-by-side, before Axl rests on their backs. Our Champion, Savior, and Metal God Supreme lays with his head resting on his palm. He stares, coldly into the camera's lens... before smiling, eyes still cold as ice.]

Axl: Well, well, well... Mr. Plants. For some reason, you like to think that my grabbing hold of the OWTTM is some sort of sign of the Apocalypse. Oh contrair, my friend. In fact, it is QUITE the opposite.

[Axl sits up, on top of the middle stepstool, his follower by the name of Jonny. Axl sits cross-legged, as he calls for Joey to stand behind him, arms outstretched. He does so, and Axl uses him to lean backwards against, as he folds his arms behind his head.]

Axl: The ONLY thing my title victory is a sign of... is victory. Not only for myself, but for BoB itself. FINALLY... finally, that no-talent creep Zeno has lost his stranglehold on the championship. And finally... it's in the hands of a far more worthy champion...

[Axl tells Jimmy to grab something from off camera... he does and when he returns, he's holding Axl's proudest possesion... the Only World Title that Matters. Jimmy hands the title over to Axl, before getting back down on his hands and knees, this time in front of Axl's feet, as he props them up comfortably, still leaning his back against Joey, and resting his ass on Jonny.]

Axl: [holding the title over his shoulder... patting it a bit with his other hand] It's wonderful, isn't it? In fact, it's probably the only thing that's worth a damn in this entire company... besides my gorgeous ass, of course. And put the two of us together? [turns his gaze to the camera] We shall be... unstoppable. With me, the Savior of BoB and God of Metal, as the OWCTM, this company will no longer mean jack squat. In fact, right now... I'm just about the only guy that can pull BoB out of the gutter it's been in for the past 8 years. I mean, think about it. Even of all the past OWCTMs, out of ALL of them, who of you can honestly say that ANY of them actually HELPED BoB during their stay as champ?

Axl: Lord Lestat Von Sexbat... Premslwvk... douja... Jobber, Jobber, and, oh yeah, smoked-out, drugged-up, red-eyed J-O-B-B-E-R!!! Heh, ch'yeah, I said it douche-ah. Have a problem with it?

Axl: Then there's so-called 'legends' like Bobo Q. Fiendish. Oh, wait, who'd he lose the belt to again? Oh yeah, THAT'S RIGHT! Jobber #1 - Lord Lestat! Silly me, I guess he's not that much of a legend after all, huh? Oh, but what about Billy Polar? He's SURELY a BoB icon??? ... HA! First off, the guy SELLS the title. To SMP. Yeah, that REALLY looks like a guy looking out for the best interests of his company. And then, when he eventually gets the title back... what does he do? Does he redeem himself? HELL NO! That's not the BoB "tradition". He ends up making himself look even worse than the first reign did, as he drops the title to, who? COMA! The guy that probably doesn't even know how to tie his own damn wrestling boots! Do ANY of these guys sound like they made a positive impact on the promotion? I... Think... Not.

Axl: Kurt Angel? Chose to ditch the title just as he'd won it. Sure, it was to go to heaven, but the dude was sent right back down again, and he hasn't been CLOSE to taking the belt since! Hardcore JJ? DUDE'S A FIVE-YEAR-OLD! And what more, the kid ALSO dropped the title. Doesn't sound like much of a champion at all, if ya ask me.

Axl: Massive Man? Too massive to lead BoB to the top. Just way too massive for his own good. And Violent Pacifist? How can someone who can't even make up their own mind lead BoB to the promised land? I rest my case.

Axl: Sarah the Jobber Slayer... well, she's not a girl. But she's not yet a woman. And even if she WAS yet a woman? SHE'D BE A DAMN WOMAN!!! And woman just don't cut out to be good leaders. Just look at the Power Rangers. Have you ever seen a WOMAN lead the Power Rangers? No? WELL THERE YA GO!!!

Axl: And finally... Sir Zeno. ... Actually, I think it's pretty obvious that as soon as he became champion, BoB hit it's biggest low, and at the end of HIS reign? BoB was off tv, showing its shows via the internet, and even while it WAS on tv? Zeno led BoB to ratings even lower than those of WSX in its final days!!! And even TN-friggin'-A beat WSX!!!~1

Axl: Of course... there was ONE champion that managed to stand above the rest. Trey... Vincent. The only man I would ever, in a million years, agree to allow into the most prestigous stable ever; GaYY. Because when you're Trey? You're GaYY... 4 - Life. Trey, if you're out there... think about it. Just... think about it. Seth, Steve? They moved on without you. But I, Trey? I would NEVER leave you. Think about... getting GaYY. Get GaYY with me. Get GaYY with Joey, and Jonny, and Jimmy. But most importantly... get GaYY... for the kids. The kids would love you Trey! Kids across the nation are DYING to get GaYY with Trey! I can hear it now...

Axl: An entire crowd screaming: "Trey IS GaYY! Trey IS GaYY! Trey IS GaYY!" Ahh... can you feel it, Trey? That throbbing, thrusting, pulsating feeling deep down in your... heart? Do you want to feel it Trey? Let's do it Trey! Let's... be GaYY!

Axl: ...

Axl: Gunnzzz and YoYozzz, babay! The five of us, and Tifa, rocking BoB into the pinnacle of the sport. Because babe... I'm ALLL about the sports entertainment. And I know... you are. Call me Trey, babe. Kiss, kiss.

[Axl stands up from his throne constructed of Joey, Jonny, and Jimmy. Axl's flock also stand up and the four men walk up the aisle. But as Axl's men walk out the door, Axl turns to the camera, and smiles.]

Axl: SMP... in all honesty? I know you don't truly believe my winning the title is a bad thing. Because... well, I know you. You're a company man. You came back to try and help BoB, by putting on a trifecta of matches with Buckwheat. You thought... for whatever misguided reason, that such a series of matches would actually boost BoB to a higher plateau. But Sil... I hate to break it to ya, but- ... Well, actually, no. I LOVE breaking this to you. That whole series? Amounted to jack SHIT in the end. Quite poetic actually... the series of matches you wished to be your last, being just as pointless, and in the end, meaningless, as your washed-up, has-been, PATHETIC career. Truly appropriate... don't you think? So why are you REALLY mad at me? Why, after all of these months, are you still tossing names at me, and belittling my obviously growing legacy? Simple.

You're jealous.

Axl: Face it, M. Putz. You could never, EVER, in a MILLION years, no matter how hard you tried, no matter how many matches you won, or how much dick you SUCKED-



Axl: ... Ahem. SMP, no matter WHAT you have done or will do, you will NEVER... eeever, be able to call yourself the Only World Champion that Matters. Hell, you even tried BUYING your way to the belt, and what happened? You were stripped of it, and who ended up with it? BOHEMOTH! Ha, an even bigger jobber than douche-ah himself, and yet, why do I get the distinct impression that he made a MUCH better champion in whatever amount of time he was the title holder than you would in an entire 2 years time, give or take a month? Why SMP? Because, simply put, you're all talk...

Axl: And absolutely NO walk. While I on the other hand? Walk on the wild side every night I step into the ring, run with the devil, and send all of my opponents on the highway to hell! Because...

I am the OWCTM...
I Am... the Metal God...

I AM...

yOuR sAvIoR..

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"And lo, on the seventh day, he did rock. And the rock was good, and indeed they partied on. And so did their children party-eth on, and their children's children, and so on, and so forth, till the very end of days. For he WAS their Savior..."

"And they WERE..."

"His Flock."

- GwarTellicus ; Chapter 10 - Rock-Elations

Join me... or forever parish.

~ to be continued... ~
==================================================================================
========
Latino Heeeeaaaaat!!!
========



:: Wednesday, August 29th, 2007 - 4:20 p.m. ::

~ Location: Studio 54 - NowhereWood ~

[We open, once again, to NowhereWood. This time, inside Studio 54, which is, at the moment, filming "La Charito Mui Gato El Guacamole, Senorita!", a famous Mexican soap opera... well, famous amongst Nowhere's Mexican population, anyway. As it IS the only Mexican soap opera NBE produces... And in Nowhere, they have this silly law that, if you're caught watching ANY channel other than NBE... you get to be eloctructed. In the testicles. And if you're a woman? ... But hey, atleast thanks to the law, "La Charito Mui Gato El Guacamole, Senorita!" has won every NBE Mexican Soap Opera award since the beginning! And that's over 1 year! 2 in fact...]

[Anyway...]

[Rico Suave', the most suave... uh... debonair... guy, on the entire show, is in a scene with Lita Bonita, the sexiest gal on the entire show. Rico looks lovingly into Lita's eyes... their lips close in on one another's... when finally-]

Studio Speakers: "Viva Los Burritos!!!"

["Los Burritos" by Grande Amigos hits, and the studio wall is smashed through, wood and glass flying into the air... and as Rico, Lita, and the other cast and crew look toward the hole in the wall, they find a low-rider, painted lime green and hot pink, with the picture of a jet black Les Paul over the hood. Suddenly, the low-rider begins hopping up and down on its front wheels, before tilting to the side... tossing out the driver of said vehicle...]

[... Who just so happens to be Axl, only in another wacky get-up ; an overly large, greasy mullet wig... a curly mustache, also greasy... two white wristbands displaying the letters "A.V." in black... and a pair of tight, black spandex, painted to resemble graffiti, with names of different hair bands and hair singers. And clutched between his teeth, a bundle of roses. Well... plastic roses, but roses nonetheless.]

["Axl Guerrerro" saunters toward the 'couple', Rico and Lita, aka Geraldo Dykstra and Avril Lopez [their stage names]. He walks over to Avril, and holds out the bundle of fake flowers, between his middle and forefingers, smiling an even more plastic grin than the flowers. Avril reluctantly accepts the flowers, more to try and rid the set of the intruder than anything else. As Avril takes the roses, Axl shakes his hips, swivels his shoulders, pats his chest, and otherwise mocks a certain other 'Guerrerro'. Suddenly, Geraldo spins Axl around, and asks him what in the hell he's doing.]

Geraldo: Sir, what ARE you doing?

Axl ["Guerrerro"] : Aaayyy, essa! Holmes! Gringo! CABRONE'!!! Whatchoo doin' essa, tryin' ah mess up my flooow mein? I'm workin' it wit' da ladies, holmes, and everybody knows... alll the sexy Mamacitas looove VanHalen's HEEEEAAAAT! So take a few steps back, chico, and witness el mui caliente!!!

Geraldo: ... Avril?

Avril: Don't worry Geraldo...

[Avril quickly punts Axl right between the legs, right in the teeny, tiny tacos, instantly dropping him to the floor.]

Avril: ... I don't think he's going to be bothering any more "Mamacitas". Let's go take a lunch break, while the janitor sweeps this numbskull off the floor.

Geraldo: Keen idea!

Avril: Geraldo?

Geraldo: Yes?

Avril: Don't say 'keen'. It's not very... Mexican-y.

Geraldo: Ah... ci.

Avril: Much better.

[Avril and Geraldo walk away from Axl, still lying on the ground, holding his gonads, as the janitor actually DOES come over to sweep him off the floor...]

Director: Cut. Everyone, meet back here in 15. And janitor, just leave the guy there, I've received a call from a Tifa BonJovi, that his name's Axl, and he's been going from place to place dressing up as wrestling 'legends', so as to promote himself in some promotion known as BoB. She'd like for him to cut a promo here, and then leave it at that for a while. Maybe that way we won't have to hear from him for a month...



Axl: Don't think I don't know what just happened here! Insano, all of your damn beaner friends are teaming up against me! First, Pig Latino Heat, Rey Mysteriotypical and that whole family ruin GNA by giving it a bad name for OBVIOUS reasons. And now? Your friends Rita and Chico or whatever the hell their names are, well, they wind up ruining one of my wonderful "Legends" skits! Well, I hope you know that all of this Mexican Mayhem perpetrated on me is allll going to come out on YOUR ass! I don't even CARE that you can't speak English! You BETTER understand this, and understand it well -

Axl: You may be the craziest, most insane, most over the top luchadore in the entire south of the border, but BABE?! No matter HOW much pain you've endured, and how much you think you can handle? You can NOT handle ME!!! For...

I am the OWCTM...
I Am the Metal God...

AND I AM...

[screen goes to black, with only two words displayed... in dark, red, crimson...]

yOuR sAvIoR...

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on
====================================
[Insano Mano is standing on a street corner. In the background is a car wash, most likely where he works his "day" job. He is in his full wrestling gear.]

IM: Nunca sería amigos con esos perdedores. Usted es tal racista. Usted es un fag del metal. Fag.

[Fade.]
====================================
[Scene opens to the Metal Manor, Axl sitting in front of his computer. He turns his chair toward the camera.]

Axl: Hey, it's not MY fault that you're such a loser yourself that the only friends you can scrounge up are third rate soap opera "stars", and wrestlers that can't even appear on a single episode of what WOULD have been THE greatest federation... EVER... without having it be cancelled. Face it. YOU'RE the biggest loser of them all! You taco-munching, burrito-stuffing BEANER! And as far as me being racist?! Uh... well...

Axl: ...

Axl: I'm not.

Axl: ...

Axl: BEANER!

[As Axl gets up from his chair, he departs, and the camera zooms in on the computer screen... a browser displaying the Babel Fish website. Suddenly, Joey Dio walks into the scene, and types something... We fade out on the translated text:]

" Maldición! "

- roca encendido -
====================================
[The ghetto. Sitting outside on the front steps of his slum apartment building, Insano Mano was sleeping. Because he's Mexican. Suddenly, a hot Spanish chick came running up to him, waking him from his slumber. I have no idea what her name is, so we'll just call her Insano Womano.]

IW: Mano! Mano! Axl Van Halen is talking about you again, papi!

[Insano Womano hands him her iPhony.]

IW: That camera chico is still filming you? Well...isn't that convenient...

IM: For the love of Montezuma. *Ahem* I mean....

[Mano begins slowly typing on the phone.]

Caption: Several minutes later...

IM: Todos mis amigos son hombre muerto, racist. ¡Venimos de las calles malas de Suicida, México! Usted viene de mirar a hombres. Poopooheado.
==================================================================================
========
Crappy Mexican Lucha el Acorns los Apricots (CMLAA)
========



:: Sunday, September 09th, 2007 - 2:09 p.m. ::

~ Location: Mexico City, Nowhere, Oklahoma ~

[Mios grande stupido! Mui-mui-mui CALIENTE'!!!!!]

[... Oh, yeah. Forgot, the narration isn't supposed to be in Mexican. But the rant IS! Well... Mexico. Mexico City. Yes, for we have traveled all the way to Mexico City, Nowhere, OK, where the Lucha De Vuelta Colliseum is jam packed to the rafters, as spectators gaze in awe at the quick-paced action of CMLAA [Crappy Mexican Lucha el Acorns los Apricots]. ... Heheh. Dammit! Couldn't say that with a straight face. Ok, well, as is more like it, the handful of people that HAVE gathered in this arena are bored to tears by the half-assed attempt at Lucha Libre being displayed in the ring. Oh, and the whole Mexico City thing? Yeah... it's just the run-down Mexican ghetto part of Nowhere. Which is different from the run-down other parts of Nowhere, as the other parts aren't ghettos. They're called trailer parks.]

[We open inside the Taco Grande Arena, where about six or seven people are sitting in front of a ring. And inside this dusty, dirty, torn-up ring, are two "luchadores". Actually, make that a fat white guy in a Rey Mysterio halloween costume about fifty sizes too small... facing off against a donkey with a cardboard cut-out mask, most likely from the back of a box of Froot Loops. The fat guy, 'La Porka' runs... well... walks, toward the donkey, and hits a flying splash. Well... more like he just runs out of breath and falls down in a clump on top of the defenseless ass. A referee appears suddenly and counts:]

Ref: Uno... Dos... ... What comes after dos?

La Porka: No habla ingles.

Ref: Uno... Dos... No habla ingles!!! The winner, and el grande fatso, LAAA PORKAAA!!!

La Porka: Actually, that's L.A. Pork, now. I lost the rights to the other name.

Ref: ... Wait... ...

[Suddenly, the sound of glass breaking hits on the speakers, before "Down with the Flu" by GwarTellica plays. All seven fans in attendance have gone... to the bathroom. But the janitor on duty is more excited than he's ever been in his bleak, pathetic, meaningless life. The Beaner-Tron comes on, and reads - "Axl 3:16 says 'Ciao, babe! And THAT'S the bottom line, cuz... well, it's the bottom line on my script. ... BOO-YEAH!"]

["Axl 3:16" stomps through the curtain, wearing a black vest with a white Les Paul printed on the back, no shirt, jean shorts, leather boots, and a knee brace on both knees. And on his head, all of Axl's long, flowing hair is bunched up beneath a bald cap. Of course, with so much hair, the cap is bulging out so much it could almost fall off at any minute. To top off the cold as stone get-up, Axl has a fake beard glued around his mouth. As "Axl 3:16" stomps to the ring, he grabs a microphone. When he gets inside, he stands toe to toe, face to face, with L.A. Pork.]

Axl 3:16: [in a grizzly voice] Whatchoo lookin' at, ya damn milee mouthed Mexicano! Ya think you can stand up tah StoneHalen?

L.A. Pork: Well-

Axl 3:16: Well EH-EH!!! [boots L.A. Pork, before dropping his jaw down over the Metal God's shoulder, sending the Porky one flying high into the air and crashing to the mat] One stunner down, eleventy-thousand tah go!

[Random Mexican music plays, and out comes a man that bears a bit of a resemblence to Axl's upcoming opponent at Appetite for Burritos, only with a color scheme made mostly of hot pink and lime green. The man runs at break neck speed down to the ring, slides in, and stands up to 'Axl 3:16', only coming up to Axl's shoulders. He grabs a microphone...]

El Loco Yoko: Ai yai yai yai YAI!!! El gato mi amigos el burritos por favor! Dos tacos enchirito le sombrero chico biblioteca!!! Los-

Axl 3:16: EH-EH!!! [goes for another Axl Stunner, but from out of the blue, Loco Yoko backflips, avoiding the contact from Axl's boot]

El Loco Yoko: EH-EH, GRINGO!!! [the janitor cheers] Uno tequila!

Janitor: QUE?!

El Loco Yoko: Dos tequila!

Janitor: QUE?!

El Loco Yoko: Tres tequila!

Janitor: QUE?!

El Loco Yoko: Quatro tequila!

Janitor: QUE?!

El Loco Yoko: Cinco tequila!

Janitor: QUE?!

El Loco Yoko: Siese tequila!

Janitor: QUE?!

El Loco Yoko: Siete tequila!

Janitor: QUE?!

El Loco Yoko: Ocho tequila!

Janitor: QUE?!

El Loco Yoko: Nueve tequila!

Janitor: QUE?!

El Loco Yoko: DIEZ TEQUILA!!!

Janitor: QUE?!?!?!?!

Axl 3:16: Tequila? Hell, that's a girl's drink! Somebody throw me a real MAN's drink! I'm talkin' two raspberry shnapp's!!! If ya wanna see ol' Axl 3:16 open up a big ol' bottle of raspberry shnapp's with this here sorry sum bitch, gimme a "Hell Yeah!"

Janitor: INFIERNO SI!!!

Axl 3:16: WHAT?! I SAID... Tequila? Hell, that's a girl's drink! Somebody throw me a real MAN's drink! I'm talkin' two raspberry shnapp's!!! If ya wanna see ol' Axl 3:16 open up a big ol' bottle of raspberry shnapp's with this here sorry sum bitch, gimme a "Hell Yeah!"

Janitor: INFIERNO SI!!!

Axl 3:16: WHAT?! No, seriously, what's this guy sayin'? I SAID- Tequila? Hell, that's a girl's drink! Somebody throw me a real MAN's drink! I'm talkin' two raspberry shnapp's!!! If ya wanna see ol' Axl 3:16 open up a big ol' bottle of raspberry shnapp's with this here sorry sum bitch, gimme a "Hell Yeah!"

Janitor: INFIERNO SI!!!

Axl 3:16: WHA-

El Loco Yoko: GODDAM STUPIDO!!! Infierno Si is MEXICAN for Hell Yeah!!! Jesus Christ...

Axl 3:16: Well Bah Gawd, why didn't ya say so? Stooge, toss a few Shnappsweisers this way!

[Two bottles of Shnapps are thrown toward Axl, which he catches. He tosses one to Loco Yoko, who accepts the token of esteem. He then clinks his bottle to Axl's... immediately shattering both bottles, sending Shnapps everywhere. For a few minutes, Axl 3:16 looks down at the puddle of Shnapps... before looking up at El Loco.]

Axl 3:16: Why you SONOFABITCH!!!

[Axl suddenly rips off the bald cap and throws it into the puddle of raspberry drink, letting his hair flow free... before he kicks El Loco in the gut, tosses the Luchadore's head between his legs, picks him up, and sends him crashing, straight THROUGH the canvas, with a spinning Rock-O-Lution Bomb. Axl rips off the knee braces, vest, and fake beard, and grabs a microphone, staring directly into the camera.]

Axl: NOBODY... messes with my damn shnapps!!! So INSANO, let THAT be a lesson for you! And if you think for even one SECOND! No further questions.

[Axl rolls underneath the bottom rope to the outside, before bumping into the janitor. He looks him square in the eye... before flipping him off and dropping him with a stunner, sending the guy flying through the air and back over the barricade.]

Janitor: Damn... didn't think I had that kinda power. ... You must really suck.

[Axl lies in a pool of his own blood, as well as a pile of steel chairs, as the janitor slings his mop over his shoulder... whistling a happy tune on his way, as the camera fades to black...]

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on
==================================================================================
========
9-11... with a side of mozzerella sticks
========



:: Tuesday, September 11th, 2007 - 9:11 p.m. ::

~ Location: The Twin Towers of Pizza - Nowhere, Oklahoma ~

[It is the 6th anniversary of the New York attacks on the World Trade Center. We open to a pizza parlor in north east Nowhere, where customers are enjoying a nice slice of pie. Suddenly, the door barges open, and a brown skinned man in a tan robe, white turban, and scruffy beard, walks in, and throws his hands in the air, screaming obscenities in a foreign language. He walks toward the cashier's register, and slams a fist to the counter.]

Yomama Bin Jobbin: Blahddy blah de joo joo bean lalee flibbidy greeneggsandham!!!

Cashier: Er... could you repeat that order?

Yomama: Jingle bingle gingerbreadman pitter patter foo foo poo poo ding dong doodlewop!!!

Cashier: ... Huh?

[Suddenly, the door swings open once more, and in comes... Hacksaw Jim Duggan? Wait, no, it's - Axl Dim Lightbulb!!! The 2x4 swinging patriot wears a pair of blue shorts, black boots, no shirt, a fake beard, and his hair is dyed dark brown. ADL lifts up a thumb as he carries an American flag over his shoulder with great pride. ADL lets out a mighty "HOOO!", as the pizza stuffing customers let out... a few burps. While others just simply leave the pizza place for fear of what craziness may be about to go down.]

Axl: LISTEN UP, TOUGH GUY!!! I dunno what kindsa sick little things you may-ah done back in your Afghanimastanny or whatever, but right here, we don't go around screwin' camels in the backside! No siree bob, not here in the good ol'... U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-AAA!!! Nope, just ask any good, honest, American farmer! They'll tell ya, that's why God invented sheep! Bucko, if you think you're just gonna walk into this land and take home a few virgins for your harem or whatever, well THINK AGAIN, TOUGH GUYYY!!! Because here in the good ol' U S of A, there ain't no such THING as a virgin! That is, unless they're fond of Star Trek or Star Wars or Star Gate or Star... whatever! ... TOUGH GUYYYYY!!!

Yomama: Oo Ee Oo Ah Ah Ing Ang Wallah Wallah Bing Bang!!!

[Yomama begins jabbing Axl in the chest with his forefinger, hollering in his language, as Axl simply looks down at the finger poking him... before looking up into Yomama's eyes... and sending a fist flying toward the turban-wearing pizza place intruder. BUT... as soon as the fist is about to come in contact with Yomama, the guy grabs Axl's fist. Axl tries a punch with the other fist... but fails once again. With both fists captured by Yomama, Bin Jobbin kicks Axl square in the nuts... and Axl lets out a loud "HOOOOOOOOO!!!", as he grabs his testicles and falls to the floor.]

[Yomama reaches into his robe, and pulls out... a 2x4. He drops it at Axl's feet.]

Yomama: Now DAS'... Da Bomb. ... Get it? Bomb? 9-11? HAHAHAHA, I crack me up...

[Yomama Bin Jobbin walks out of the parlor, as the camera fades out on Axl holding his wood tightly in his fist...]

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on
==================================================================================
========
Axl's Excellent Adventure
========

=============================
Part 1 - Game Start
=============================



:: Thursday, September 13th, 2007 - 6:66 p.m. ::

~ Location: Lake Nowhere ~

[Axl and Tifa are in a fishing boat, in the middle of nowhere. LAKE Nowhere, that is.]

[Axl casts out his line... well, on his portable gaming device anyway. Yes, Axl is playing a Nerdtindo P.M.D.S., his legs up over the side of the boat, as a whole lake filled with NON-virtual fish surrounds him. And Tifa... is busy, typing away on her lap-top, when suddenly, she receives an e-mail. The message requests that she and Axl head to Nowhere Toyz, the most popular toy store in all of Nowhere. Tifa tells Axl to put down the game and start paddling... Which Axl does... but reluctantly.]

Axl: Man... I'm the CHAMPION, dammit! Why do I always end up on the raw end of the deal...

+ ~ ~ 1 hour later ~ ~ +

[We open again, this time outside of Nowhere Toyz, where Axl and Tifa are wearing brown trenchcoats, brown fedoras, and dark sunglasses. It is now 10 pm, and the sky is dark. The toy store door opens, and the two walk inside... where the lights come on, and the two GaYY members find themselves confronted by a short statured scientist type looking guy. The short man wears a white labcoat, spectacles, a red bow-tie over a white, button-up shirt. His hair is messy and gray, giving off a bit of an "Einsteinish" look. He curls his white mustache, as he smiles...]

Dr. Riley: Ahhh... so I finally have the opportunity to meet you... my FAVORITE wrestling superstar! THE CHAMPION... of Brawlers on a Budget. Mr. VanHalen.... it is a pleasure.

Axl: The Champion? Yes... Yes, indeed I AM the Champion... In fact- [opens up his coat, to reveal the World Title strapped around his waist.] - here's the BELT to prove it! [closes up his coat.] But enough about Tifa.

Tifa: ...

Axl: Doc, since I AM the Champion, I want to know just why in the HECK you called the two of us down here? I mean... I love dolls and Mary-Kate and Ashley make-up kits just as much as the next red-blooded American male, but BABE... it's ten o'clock! There's no telling what kind of evil no-goodnicks could be trolling around. No offense to Trollz of course...

Red-haired Troll in the third aisle: None taken.

Dr. Riley: It is simple. For years, I have been working... and working... and WORKING, to perfect my greatest and most earth-changing invention ever... And I believe I've finally finished my life's masterpiece. And Axl VanHalen... YOU are the man I've chosen to be my guinnea pig- er... that I... have chosen... to PIONEER the first ever trek... into TIME!!!

Axl: Hey, so you invented the watch? Awesome!

Dr. Riley: ... No. Mr. VanHalen, I have been watching your work in the ring... and I admire it.

Axl: Hey man, I've been telling people for a while now, I'm NOT gay. But thanks for the unwanted advance anyway..

Dr. Riley: ...

Axl:

Dr. Riley: Ohhhh... kay? But seriously. I believe you have great skill... speed... agility... strength, and power.

Tifa: There goes being serious...

[Both Axl and Dr. Riley look at Tifa with furrowed brows.]

Tifa: Whatever...

Dr. Riley: So Axl, it is with great pride that I bestow upon you the PRIVILEGE to test out, the first EVER... Time Machine.

Tifa: You've gotta be kidding me...

Axl: RADICAL!!! Wyld Stallyns!!! *plays air guitar*

Dr. Riley: Axl, you may choose ANY date in the entire span of time, and my machine will take you there. You can head back to the time of the dinosaurs and meet fascinating creatures that no longer exist... you can head into the time of medieval swordplay and bravery... or you can even head... into the FUTURE! So... Axl VanHalen. What time do you choose to travel to?

Axl: Hmm... you know... [turns to Tifa] Tifa. Ever since I was a boy, I've been wrapped up in a mystery. I've always wondered deep down in the back of my mind... who IS my father? Well, tonight, I've decided that this is perhaps the greatest chance I've ever had at finding out once and for all. Tifa... we're heading back... to October 31st... 1977. The day... of my birth.

Tifa: So. You were born on Halloween. Which is why you dress like it's your birthday each and every single day of the year...

Axl: HMPHF!!! [turns to Dr. Riley] Bring out the machine, doc. I'm ready.

[The doctor heads deeper into the toy store... till darkness engulfs his figure... but before long, he returns... this time rolling along something that resembles-]

Tifa: A PORT-O-POTTY?! Axl, you don't seriously believe this thing is going to work... do you?

Axl: Tifa... hold onto those sunglasses. We're about to take a journey... a BOGUS journey!

Tifa: Oh jesus christ, you MUST be joking... Ugh, how did I ever get myself into being your assistant...

Axl: Welllll-

Tifa: DON'T REMIND ME!

[Axl and Tifa head into the Port-O-Potty... Doctor Riley flips a switch on the side... and before long, sparks of electricity fly into the air... electrical bolts crackle... and both Tifa and Axl's trenchcoats begin blowing harshly in an odd, other-wordly wind. The entire toy store begins to shine in a hue of blue.... as the Doc clasps his palms together... a smile on his face, and a glint in his eye.]

Dr. Riley: Yesss... it's working... IT'S... WORKIIIIING!!! I'VE DONE IT!!! I AM A GENIUS!!! I AM A GENIUS!!! I AM-

[Suddenly, a great flushing sound echoes through the building, and in a flash... the time machine has vanished... leaving only a puddle of toilet water... and two brown fedoras.]

[Dr. Riley slowly walks toward the puddle... before falling to his knees... he slowly looks to the heavens... as our cameras fade... to black.]

~ to be continued... ~

=============================
Part 2 - Time Travel
=============================



:: April 16th... 1977 - 4:20 p.m. ::

~ Location: Lake Nowhere. ~



Tifa: YECH!!! I can STILL smell that damn Port-O-Potty!!! I can't believe it actually work- [looks around] - wait a minute... Where are we?

Axl: I THINK... we're back at Lake Nowhere.

Tifa: SEE!!! I told you that thing wouldn't work! That guy may have invented a teleporter, but he sure as hell didn't invent a time machine! We're right back where we started!

Axl: Wait a minute... Tifa. We may be back at Lake Nowhere... but I think we may have went back in time as well!!! Look at THAT!

[Axl points, and Tifa follows his finger... finding herself looking right at... Studio 54? And no, not some studio from NowhereWood. I'm talking about the club where some of the wildest happenings in history went down... back in the 70's!!!]

Axl: Tifa... I just caught a glimpse at the time dial on the machine. It says we've landed in April 16th... 1977!!! And ten days from now, Studio 54 is set to open in New York! But what we're looking at... is none other, than the famous: Studio 4-20!!!

Tifa: Ugh... can we just find your parents and go back... or... forward, to 2007? I'm missing a rerun of Sex in the City!

Axl: Tifa, I was born in October, but the machine sent us here. It OBVIOUSLY sent us here for a reason, right? Well, I say there's no better reason than to attend the grand opening of the hottest club in the history of Nowhere!

Tifa: Oh, here we go... Somebody shoot me!

+ ~ ~ A few minutes later ~ ~ +

[Axl and Tifa are sitting at the bar, as people all around are drinking... as well as getting high. Yes, Studio 4-20, where even your grandma can throw intelligence out the window, one puff at a time. But of course, neither of our heroes are getting involved with such low, low forms of indulgence. No, instead, Tifa is sipping from a martini... and Axl is sipping from a glass of Shnapp's, as always.]

[After a few drinks... well... a LOT of drinks... Axl starts looking at Tifa. In a way that he doesn't normally look at Tifa. Tifa then looks at Axl. In a way that she doesn't normally look at Axl (i.e. - without the look of wanting to punch him in the face). Axl and Tifa stare into eachother's eyes... almost lovingly. Before falling to the floor in a drunken heap.]

+ ~ ~ A few... hours later ~ ~ +

[We find - OH DEAR LORD IN HEAVEN!!! We find, in a room above the club area, Axl and Tifa... in bed. There are, unfortunately for us, no sheets or blankets on this particular bed, so the censors have thankfully provided us with blurs over all the naughty bits of both of these two... nasty, nasty people. Axl and Tifa are curled up together, and we can just make out a few stains on the bed... *urp*. I think we need to hurry to the next scene... before I lose my lunch.]

[Axl sits up, legs over the side of the bed. Tifa sits up beside him... and they both look at eachother.]

Axl: ...

Tifa: ...

Axl: Uhm...

Tifa: Yeah... Axl? Let's just... sorta... forget about this? I mean...

Axl: I totally understand. ...

Tifa: ...

[The two leap back onto eachother and begin making out... when from above, electricity begins to crackle... and a beam of light shoots down... and in a split second, both of them... are gone.]

:: October 31st, 1977 - 4:20 p.m. ::

~ Location: Nowhere Regional Hospital ~

[As the sky above splits open, our two heroes fall from the sky... this time on the soft grass in front of Nowhere's local hospital facility. Axl is the first to his feet, as he rubs his eyes... and looks toward the building.]

[He looks down at Tifa.]

Axl: Tifa... we're here.

Tifa: Axl... I'm pregnant.

Axl: ... WHAT?

Tifa: And I think... my water just broke.

Axl: Oh dear God no... Then... that must mean...

Tifa: I'm your mother. And you're your OWN father.

Axl: [falls to his knees, at Tifa's feet... and throws his head to the sky... screaming at the top of his lungs...] NOOOOOOOOO!!!

+ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ +

:: Thursday, September 13th, 2007 - 7:25 p.m. ::

~ Location: Lake Nowhere ~

Tifa: Axl... wake up. It's time to go home.

[Axl wakes up. He's sitting in his fishing boat, Nerdtindo P.M.D.S. setting off to the side... Tifa's laptop shut down. Axl rubs his eyes, and looks at Tifa.]

Axl: Tifa! Shouldn't you be in labor?

Tifa: ... What in the hot pink hell are you talking about?

Axl: I... I don't know. I guess it must have been a dream. I mean... it was so REAL. We met this scientist, and we traveled through time... and then we went to this club and had sex.

Tifa: ... Well, if that doesn't tell you it was a dream, I don't know what will...

Axl: And then you had a baby. And it was me.

Tifa: So you mean you were you're own dad?

Axl: Yeah... weird, huh?

Tifa: The ultimate incest angle... Vince McMahon would love it.

Axl: Tifa... this dream has brought me to a conclusion. I MUST find out who my real father is. I've never met him. I've never known him. I want to. Tifa... e-mail Rott N. Dealer. I want him to be at the Metal Manor... and make it a mass e-mail. Send it to everyone I've ever known. Well... everyone that's important. Rott and I are going to get down to the bottom of this...

Axl: Come Saturday... I will know who my father is. No matter what.

~ to be concluded... ~

=============================
Part 3 - The Finale'
=============================



:: Saturday, September 15th, 2007 - 5:00 p.m. ::

~ Location: The Metal Manor ~

[We open in the Manor's backyard, where a wooden platform has been set up, and a large white sheet is hanging off to the side, with a projector ready to roll footage onto the screen. A large crowd of people has gathered on all four sides of the wooden platform, as Axl stands, with Tifa to his right. Axl speaks...]

Axl: As you all know... I have gathered you all here to find out, once and for all, who my real father truly is. I have brought together many faces from my past... some of you I like... some of you I loathe. But when this all ends, I will know, without a shadow of a doubt, who my dad is. I have contacted my former manager, current lawyer, and he has put together a reel of film that will explain, in depth, which one of you is the sole individual that left me at birth... But before we get to that, I want to speak with a few of you, individually... face to face.

Axl: First of all, I'd like to bring to the platform... Jizzy the Clown.

[Jizzy, in full clown get-up, walks onto the platform... albeit looking rather nervous as he does.]

Axl: Jizzy... MJ. Can I call ya Jiz?

Jizzy: Well-

Axl: IT DOESN'T MATTER IF I CAN CALL YA JIZ!!! Because Jiz, the Metal God knows, that you've been running your mouth, and spewing your garbage, telling the world... TELLING... the world, that the Metal God is less than the Brahma Bull, that the Metal God can no longer layeth... the smacketh down, on alllll the candy coated asses in BoB. But babe, let the Metal God tell you THIS... [looks at Jizzy... Jizzy looks at Axl... Axl whips a hand back, as if he's going to slap Jizzy, and the Jizzster stumbles right off the platform, into the crowd of potential daddies] ... IF YA SMEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAALLLLOOOOUUUULLLLALALALALA-LEE-LOH-LOWWW~!!!one ...

Axl: What the Savior... is... COOKIN'!!!

Axl: Ah, that never gets old... Alright, the next guy I'd like to bring up here, is a former BoB'ster. He is the former leader of a stable of men that tried to take over BoB... but failed miserably. Ladies and gentlemen... please welcome... Reeve... GORDON!!!

[Reeve stomps up onto the platform, flanked by both The Fat Guy, and Big Daddy Drool. Axl smiles and shakes his head.]

Axl: Reeve... I've just got three... words... for yaaa -

Rest... in...

[Suddenly, TFG and BDD lift Reeve up, double powerbomb him, straight through the platform, sending splinters flying every which way. They then hop off the platform and head off, as Axl chuckles.]

Axl: ... Peace. And speaking of slang, let's bring down our final contestant, JJ Mynuz... COME ON DOOOWWWN!!!

["Crunk n' Junk in da Trunk wit' muh Spunk on dah Funk of Hunk-ah Hunk-ah Burnin' Luvvv" by JJ Mynuz plays on a boom-box... which JJ carries up onto the platform. He lays the stereo down, and Axl looks down at the box, blaring with rap music. Axl looks back at Mynuz... before looking back at the box... before looking back at Mynuz.]

Axl: You know I hate rap... right?

Mynuz: Yooooo yo yo yo yo yo yo YO! Dawg, I just wanna throw out a shout to muh boyz Cryme Tyme, JTG and Shad. Them gangstahs just got scrapped up in that WWE shiz-nitch and I wanna let 'em know, I'm plannin' on startin' up muh own lil' bit a sumpin' sumpin' wrestlin' fed, knaw mean, and well, if they wanna throw down they skillioz wit' da best damm wrestlin' starz in dis bidniss, then they just gotsta gimme a ring at 555-454...

[Tifa hands Axl a sledgehammer. Axl proceeds to slam the hammer repeatedly on the stereo. JJ stares at Axl with mouth agape.]

Mynuz: Yo man... das' cold.

Axl: No. Das' cool. THIS- [runs toward JJ, slams the sledge into the rapper/wrestler's gut, and instantly drops him to the platform] - Is cold. And THIS- [slams the hammer over JJ's back, bringing him onto his stomach] - Is you getting you're ass whipped.

[Axl drops the hammer, tosses JJ's head between his legs, but instead of picking him up and hitting the Rock-O-Lution Bomb, Axl brings JJ face first into the wood with a pedigree type maneuvre. Axl stands to his feet, and grabs a bottle of Shanpps from Tifa. He pours down a shot, pours a bit over his hair and face, before whipping his arms back and spraying a mist of Shanpp's into the air. Afterward, Axl rips JJ off the platform and bashes the bottle into his skull, shattering it into pieces of glass, and sending Mynuz careening off the platform. Axl smiles broadly, and continues speaking.]

Axl: It's obvious it's not any of THOSE losers, so without further adieu... Tifa? Roll the projector.

[Tifa begins the projector, and Rott N. Dealer appears on the large white sheet.]

Rott: Hello Axl.

Axl: Hey Rott. How are you?

Rott: Yeah, I know!

Axl: ... Tifa, next time, just have Rott come here in person. I hate talking to a projector...

Rott: That's true, but I never really thought about turning him in. I just let him get away with it. But Axl, I don't think now's the time to be talking about my life.

Axl: ...

Rott: So down to business. I've figured out exactly who your father is... but he's asked me to let you know his identity in a series of riddles. So, without further adieu... First clue; His skin... is fair. As is his hair.

Axl: Goodie! Anyone that's not a handsome, white skinned, blonde-haired, beautiful person... GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!

[All of the non-white, non-blondes remove themselves from the backyard, leaving five or six people.]

Rott: Also, I know we've all heard the rumors, but contrary to them, your father IS male. So... your dad's not a woman. Or atleast he wasn't BORN a woman.

[Axl looks at Tifa. Tifa looks a bit ticked.]

Rott: And no Axl, contrary to many rumors, Tifa in fact IS a woman. She just happened to have a bit of an... ahem... growth there... for a while. But I can assure you she's atleast 93% woman.

Axl: Ok, so what's the next clue?

Rott: Oh, it's healing just fine, thanks for asking.

Axl: ...

Rott: Final clue. Your father... is not in your backyard.

Axl: Ok, so- WAIT A MINUTE!!! Why the hell did you even make me go through all of this then! Why didn't you just tell me who he was in the first place?!

Rott: Because then we wouldn't have been able to do this parody of the McMahon/Bastard Son/Little Bastard angle.

Axl: Ohh. Wait... How did you...

Rott: Your father... has power. Wealth. And is a mighty man with mighty ambitions. Axl... your father is none other than...

[Suddenly, the boombox, previously introduced by JJ Mynuz and subsequently smashed by Axl, begins to play... somehow, someway, it plays, and the song it plays?]

["No Chance in NoWhere."]

[Axl's Manor door swings open, and the six people left from the riddle session part, three men on either side of the door, as out walks... who is that?]

Rott: ... Vince McMotleyCrue!!! Yes, that's right Axl, as you probably know, he is the MAYOR of Nowhere... and he IS... your father. I expect my pay in the mail, have a nice day.

[The projector footage ends, as Vinny-Crue walks... with a swagger all too familiar. He flaps his arms wildly in the air, wearing his gray suit, along with a head of gray hair. Vinny-Crue walks past the six men, who proceed to head inside, as Axl's father walks toward his son... who smiles from ear to ear... knowing he's hours away from moving into a house even bigger than his own. Maybe Axl hasn't ended up on the raw end of the deal afterall-]

[-When suddenly, walking as wildly as he was, Vinny-Crue breaks his ankle, and slams into the ground. Immediately on impact, his heart explodes, and every bone in his body shatters into a million different pieces, resulting in his entire body turning into a fine goo. Axl leaps off the platform and rushes to his dad... well, what's left of him anyway. Axl kneels down... and Tifa walks toward him.]

Axl: After... after all this. He's dead. My dad's dead... And the worst thing about it is... We never even got to go on a fishing trip... I guess I'll just have to console myself with all that inheritance money... and the mayor's mansion... and the mayor's CARS... and-

Tifa: And the mayorship.

Axl: Cool, a boat. I can REALLY get into playing my P.M.D.S. on a yacht! But still, I shall miss him-

Tifa: Axl, I don't think you understand. With your father passed away... that leaves YOU as the mayor.

[Axl shoots up and suddenly changes his frown to a smile. He turns to Tifa.]

Axl: Are... are you SURE that's how it works???

Tifa: [shrugs her shoulders] I dunno. Sounds alright to me.

[The two begin hugging eachother and hopping up and down in joy. They head through the back door and toward the front, ready to begin moving into the Mayor's Mansion... and taking over as the First Couple [ch'yeah... couple.] of Nowhere. As they move off, the camera fades out on one sight... that of the deceased goo and broken bones that WAS... Axl's father.]

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock on ~

===================================

[Next Time: Axl and Tifa move into the Mayor's Mansion! Axl appoints Joey Dio and those other two jobbers as different positions that they really have no training for! And Axl begins remaking Nowhere in HIS image! Stay tuned folks... it's gonna be a WYLD ride!!! *air guitar*]

- end -





========
All Hail King Nothing...
========



:: Sunday, September- ... ::

[Ya know what... fuck the time and location. Go on. Take a wild guess. Look at the time of this rant. And make up a random place in Nowhere, the capitol of Bum Fuck U.S.A., and yeah, you pretty much got the picture. Get it? Got it? Go fuck yourself.]

["Slave to the Grind", by Skid Row, is playing on some stereo... kicking on, with guitar wailing and drum thumping. It doesn't really matter WHAT stereo, because they're all the goddam same. Speakers? Check. Power button? Check. Casette deck, CD deck? Check, and check. Yeah, it's a stereo alright. But this particular stereo is on top of a table, a coffee table to be precise, in the middle... of a mess.]

[The Mayor's "Mansion". Which is actually... well, a trailer. And no, not a nice trailer. Not a double-wide. It's the same trailer Vince McMotleyCrue was born in... and died in, trying to amass enough cash to get the hell out of Nowhere. But eventually, he lost track of the time... became mayor... and decided to stay. And he stayed. And stayed. Till the day he died. And what was his... is now Axl VanHalen's. The money [what little Vinny-Crue had]. The mayorship. The trashy trailer. And absolutely nothing of true value or worth. Axl wanted power... Now? He has it. All the power in Nowhere... within the palm of his hand. And in addition, due to the kooky laws of Nowhere, Axl's Metal Manor? Plowed down and replaced with the biggest brothel in the South. And his fortune? Even his rock memorabilia? Sold to charity. The "Children with Randomly Thrown Together Rock N' Roll Names Coallition" to be exact.]

[And now... Axl sits on a torn couch, with his feet up on the table... still listening to voice of Sebastian Bach... cracking open a can of Coors. ... WHAT?! Where's the Shnapps?! Oh dear lord, Axl truly HAS hit rock bottom!!! And what's worse, gone is the elegant golden robe... replaced with a dark black bath towel wrapped around his waist, covering his lower half... his chest bare. And his hair...]

[Oh. My. God.]

[Axl's once luxurious, long, golden mane... now cut to his shoulders, and dyed black. His fingernails... His lips... Black. And his face... covered in white make-up, with long black lines cascading down from his eyes. Axl sits, with one foot kicked up on the table... his other, planted firmly on the ground. He grips his can of Coors tightly in his right hand... staring off into nothingness...]

[Pure... black... nothingess.]

Axl: I am king. And this... this is my throne. Where upon I sit... as ruler... of Nothing.

Axl: My kingdom... soaked in the bleakest of bleak, and paralyzed with peril. I am king... But of what?

Axl: I look at these people... for they are mine. Under my hand, under my guidance... they should live in prosperity. But doth their hearts fill with joy? Nay... Doth their faces fill with the smile of a young child? NAY...

Axl: And why... WHY? I shall tell thee, and all those who care to lend an ear, the truth. The... Truth. The Truth is... I...

Axl: I am... a fraud.

Axl: I am... King Nothing. I speak of greatness... but know none. I hand out promises as if they were party favors... when deep down inside of this cold, black heart of mine, I know I shall keep not one of them. I speak of a better way... a higher level... yet know... I am. I am... the Liar of Liars. I am... the Fool of Fools. I am... Axl... VanHalen.

Axl: ... Why. Why is it that every time I try and do something good... something noble... something righteous... that I wind up failing. Am I destined to fail? Destined to be nothing more than a curtain jerker? It couldn't be... Could it? Why... what is it that is standing in my way? Is it my ability? ... No. No, for I am more talented than any man, woman, child, or inanimate object in this entire company. And that goes for Trey, Steve, Seth AND Death... combined. I'm more agile than Harker. More powerful than Studnuts. More... uh... sports-entertain-y... than Vincent. And Death? I could KILL Death, both forefingers tied behind my damn back!!! No... it's not my ability that is lacking. Could it be... my focus? ... No. Because I am THE most focused individual on the roster. I always set my sights squarely on the target, no matter what anyone may have you believe. I mean... sure, I may have opened up a federation... or two. But it was simply to provide some healthy competition for myself! You gotta be on your toes, ya know?

Axl: ... What could it be. ... Wait. I know exactly what the problem is. Yes... I know EXACTLY what the problem is. The whole... hair metal thing. It just never really... clicked... did it? But look at me... look at me NOW! Dark... brooding... SINISTER. I am no longer ruler of Nothing. I am... I Am...

[Axl stands from his couch, tossing the beer can to the side... and the towel falls to the floor. Fortunately for Axl's self-confidence, his lower region is blurred.]

Axl: I AM... MASTER... of Nowhere.

Axl: I am Axl... Metal God. Savior of BoB. And I AM... [Axl turns to the camera... grabs it by the lens, and pulls it in close] Better. Than. You. [shoves the camera, as it falls to the ground... heading to static.]

~ rock on ~

\oo/_ OvO _\oo/

~ rock o-[/color

Axl: Hold it, hold it, hold EVERYTHING. Cut! From now on... no more color in my rants. No more happy little comic sans, no more happy little pinks and limes and shit. No more, no more, no MORE!

Axl: Enough's enough... and it's time for a change.</ghost of Owen>

- cut -
==================================================================================
========
Save_Us.420
========

::: ... save... :::

[The screen is black... a dark, DARK black... with one word in the dead center... in blood red.]

::: ... save... :::

[Standing there... before the eyes of those who look upon the screen... staring into their souls... halting their motion, as a promo by a mysterious masked 'soemone' finishes, and they begin to remove themselves from the sofa... but with the appearance of this one, single, solitary word, their ability to move is halted... and instead... they stare back.]

::: ... save... us... :::



1028237847740927071
9238349078976837658
82373a8374656756766
9037427257838985950
8377348972489466641
874748148646842816x
3847846467461767467
0347342070272744748
87987489l67627699911
1111110000001111110
is... coming... back.........



10 8237 740927071
3 0789 58
82373a8374656756766
9037 8985950
8377348972489466641
8747481486 x
3847846467461767467
034734207 44748
87987 l676276 11
000000
is... coming... back.........

[Viewers around the world are on the edge of their seats... leaning in closely... some biting their nails... some with their mouths hanging agape... before finally...]

092707

a


x


l

is... coming... back.........

::: ... The Hierarchy is here... Your Savior... has risen. ... :::

::: ... All hail Axl... King of Nowhere... Savior... of BoB ... :::

::: ... Next Only World Champion that Matters... :::

[And as these words flash across the screen, the entire country lets out a collective gasp. ... Oh, wait, that was a sigh. The nation collectively stands up from the couch, and heads into the kitchen to grab a beer, wondering why they even bothered sitting back down in the first place.]

[Axl is back. The question isn't "do you care" [because let's face it... you don't]. The question IS-]

"Uh... when did he leave?"

- all hail the hierarchy... -

==================================================================================

~~~Steve Studnuts is seen...with a very visible welt under his right eye. He's gotten into the whole "dark" thing by simply wearing a black shirt that reads: "I'm only wearing black until they invent a darker color".

He barely makes it through another Axl promo without downing a lethal dose of painkillers and steroids and decides to comment about it...~~~

Steve: Well shit... I lost my bet with Jizzabelle. I thought for sure that Axl was going to show up in his next promo as The Yeti.

She's already up 15 bucks on me for guessing' Hacksaw Jim Duggan, how the fuck could she have guessed him bein' Hacksaw Jim fuckin' Duggan?

Oh, by the way... never make a joke about your bitch havin' a fat ass even when she doesn't. All bitches think they have a fat ass.
But that's ah-ight, because as soon as the cameras were off I jerked a fuckin' knot in Connie's fat ass that would choke a bronto-fuckin'-saurus.

~~~Connie Lingus casually walks by in the background.~~~

Steve: Ummm. Uh-rah. Yeah, that's Jizz, in her Connie suit. Tryin' it out for Halloween. Ya dig?

~~~Jizzabelle Cummings also walks by~~~

Steve: Fuck.

~~~He composes himself~~~

Steve: Yeah. So Axl has decided not to be Axl Austin or Axl Duggan or one of two Crow Stings or Axl VanErich or any other fuckin' wrestler besides himself this go around. Gravy.

I see you've also decided to drop that Flock shit and call it the Heirarchy. Goody fuckin' gum drops. I was wonderin' about how you were goin' to round up Sick Boy and Lodi, especially when I saw Lodi last month jobbin' to a fat hardcore guy in the indys, the get pissed, shoot DDT the fat guy's fatter hardcore wife and made her bite her tongue because she's too fuckin' stupid to close her mouth when takin' a DDT. But anyway:

And you hit the proverbial nail on the fuckin' head when you said "nobody cares" that you're back. When did you leave, you ask? That's not the question everybody wants answered...

....that question is:
"When will Axl get the fuck outta here, never come back, and shrivel up and fuckin' die somewhere."

~~~He uncomfortably pauses~~~

Steve: Ummm, I'm kiddin'. Ya know? Just fuckin' around. I really don't want to see any of your "am I gettin' fired" bullshit on the cork board tomorrow mornin'.

So anyway, you think you're goin' to save the fans of BOB, huh? Save them from what? Bein' entertained? Save them from their addiction of watchin' really shitty wrestlin' to watchin' WORSE?

Dude, I've already had a few of my regular wrestlin' groupies call me up since you won the big bronze sayin' that you bein' the champ sucked ass. They didn't even want to go the live shows anymore, and these bitches really like dick.

What can I say? When they put the strap on your dumbass it was the fuckin' equivilent of WCW's biggest fuck-up. Yeah, you're BOB's David Arquette. Or were...

...until me and the boys kicked the shit outta you and saved BOB from goin' into triple negative bankruptcy.

But hey, things are lookin' up. For me anyways...

My patent was cleared last week, so everytime Jim Ross says 'Glamazon', I cha-ching a Benjamin. I think I cashed in a cool 2 grand last RAW.

It still sucks to be you, though.

Later, Y2GAY.

~~~Steve gets up and walks offscreen~~~

==================================================================================

"Save them from what? SAVE THEM... from what?"

"Brother Studnuts... I gather you just don't understand. You don't understand the evils perpetuated by the likes of the Reaper... vile things that soul-ess scum like Kevin the Pyromaniac and XXXTreme Machine have in store for the defenseless people of the BoB Nation."

"You don't understand... But you will."

[Scene: The backyard of the Mayor's Trailer, where the Hierarchy are standing... Jonny, Jimmy, and Joey in a row, lowered to one knee, bowing their heads.]

[The grey sky that has perpetually hovered over Nowhere ever since Axl's inception as Mayor is as present as ever. A slight mist lingers in the air... and a bolt of lightning crackles high above... slicing through the air like a blade through butter.]

[As Jon, Jim, and Joe continue to kneel, Axl finally makes his on-screen appearance... now complete with full Goth-style wardrobe, straight from the "Le Poser" Collection. Black 'Tripp' brand pants with chains dangling down the sides... A long-sleeved, flannel shirt tied around his waist... Black sandals, black fingerless gloves, and spiked bands around his wrists and throat... His nails and lips are black, and his hair - black, with hot pink streaks flowing throughout. His face is covered in the same white paint from before, with the same black streaks beneath his eyes. And his shirt... black, with the words "Momma Always Said Darkness is like a Box of Chocolates. It Brings you Further into the Clutches of an UnGodly Grip... Giving You Power UnTold... Strength UnBending... and a major ToothAche. ... Actually, darkness isn't that much like a box of chocolates. Of course, momma DID always say some dumb shit... Like this One Time She Said She lost her glasses. She didn't even WEAR glasses! Damn she sure was dumb. ... I'll miss you momma. Ya stupid bitch, you.". Due to there being so many words, they're so small they require a magnifying glass to read them all, and they cover the front of the shirt like a page from a book. Aw well, that's the price you must pay to be both hip and trendy, as well as a brooding outcast, at the same time.]

[Axl stands before his followers... an umbrella over his head. The three of them wear attire similar to that of Axl, sans the face paint and flannel around the waist, and their shirts simply have their names written across in blood red. Axl stares upon his flock... before folding up the umbrella, and wielding it at his side.]

Axl: My sons... tonight, our family... The Hierarchy... begin the long trek, to reclaiming what is rightfully mine... er, OURS... The Only World Title That Matters. Together, as a unit, we shall restore not only the belt to my waist, but greatness... honor... and respect, to BoB. ... Well, that is to say, BRING greatness, honor, and respect to BoB. I mean... restore sort of gives the impression that BoB once HAD greatness, honor, and respect in the past.... which, well... isn't exactly true, but ANYWAY.

Axl: Tonight, we show the world... we show Brother Studnuts... Brother Harker... Brother Vincent... we show them ALL, what a TRUE Brotherhood is all about. Tonight, through hell or high water, through darkness and light... through thick and thin, through the best of the worst and least of the most... through the good... the bad... and the fugly. Through every stone thrown our way... Through every brick cast upon our flesh... Through every half empty beer bottle tossed at us by some drunken heckler in the third row. Through hell-fahr and keystone light...

Axl: We... shall... prevail.

Axl: And in the end, as the dust settles, the smoke clears, and the fans return from the bathroom, we SHALL be standing... tall... proud... and with the glory we have deserved since the beginning of time. Or the beginning of this rant. Pretty much the same thing. WE ARE THE FEW... THE PROUD... THE HIERARCHY!!! Or possibly the Marines, I forget.

Jonny: [head still lowered] It's the Hierarchy, I'm pretty sure... Jim, we haven't changed the name again have we?

Jimmy: No, not yet. Atleast not as far as I know. Joe?

Joey: Hey, there's a penny on the ground! AND IT'S HEADS UP! Oh, splendid day!

Axl: ... K. So, anyway... As we slowly venture into reclaiming our territory, you three... my sons... as well as my Brothers. You three must go through a series of... tests. I must be certain that you are the men that shall stand tall at my sides, heading into war with those that threaten BoB.

Joey: True or False?

Jimmy: No, jackass! It'll CLEARLY be multiple choice. ... It will be multiple choice, right? Because I can't STAND 'fill in the blank'.

Axl: NO, YOU MORONS!!! Argh... no, by 'tests', I mean challenges, to determine if you three have what it takes to be my sheep. ... Flock. Aw, you know what I mean... Now, as you kneel before me, heads lowered, I shall commence with the first test. It is a test... of endurance. With umbrella in hand, and rain now pouring down from the sky-

[Oops, forgot to mention that. It's raining. It's pouring. Somewhere, an old man may or may not be snoring.]

Axl: Are you finished?

[But what about the incident?]

Axl: Which incident???

[Well, some say he bumped his head. Some say it was on the end of the bed. Others say he couldn't get up in the morning.]

Axl: ...

[ ;D]

Axl: I'm surrounded by idiots... [looks down at his 'Brothers'] ... Brother Jim... Brother Jon... Brother Joe. With this umbrella, I shall show you pain as you've never known before. I shall see, without question, if you can handle the onslaught from the likes of Death, T.V., and Atomo the Living Robot.

Joe: Uh... does he even wrestle in BoB anymore?

Axl: REGARDLESS!

Joe: ... Huh?

Axl: RE- GARD - LESS!

Joe: ... ...

Axl: Now. Kneel.

Jim: Uh... we are?

Axl: Bow your heads.

Jim: WE ARE! Geez...

Axl: Now... prepare yourselves. And remember... this is for your own good.

[Axl lifts the umbrella, and brings it down, first upon Jim... ... Uh, I said, first upon- ... oh. Wow. He did. Wouldn't have guessed...]

Jim: Uhm, Axl? Are you still going to do that whole... 'test' thing? ... Is he still there, Jon?

Jon: I think... man, the mosquitos are out tonight. Hey Joe, you get bit by a mosquito?

Joe: I don't know, but it feels like it's raining hard. Shoulda worn a raincoat.

Axl: *gasp* You- *gasp* You guys... *gasp* Jesus christ... You guys had enough yet?

Jim: Whatcha talkin' about Axl?

Joe: Yeah, you haven't even started yet?

Axl: ... But...

[Axl drops the umbrella, and puts his hands on his hips, taking in a few gasps of air.]

Axl: *gasp* Are... are you sure you guys... didn't feel anything?

Jon: Nope.

Joe: Not really.

Jim: A few mosquitos, some rain... not much else though.

Joe: ...

Jon: ...

Jim: Wait a minute. ... You... You weren't the one... Those mosquitos... and the rain... *giggles*

Axl: Stop... stop giggling...

Joe: Ohhh SNAP! You mean that was YOU! Dude... you kinda...

Jon: Hit like a girl?

Joe: Heheh, YEAH!

Axl: DAMMIT, STOP IT! I do NOT hit like a girl! I was... just practicing!

Jon: Yeah. SURE. That's why you were over there goin' like, "gasp, gasp, can't... breathe... worn out... from all the... girly hitting."

Joe: OOOOO, BURN!

Axl: Ok, you wanna see a GIRL? Get up! All three of you, get the FUCK up, right now!

[Joe, Jim, and Jon stand up. Axl hands Joe the umbrella.]

Axl: You wanna see how much of a girl I am?

Jim: No... not unless ya got boobies.

Joe: BOOBIES?! Where?!

Axl: HIT ME!!!

Jon: ... Huh?

Axl: YOU HEARD ME! All three of you, take turns hittin' me. And if I don't think I can take it anymore, I'll give a signal. Now, take turns beatin' the crap outta me, and I'll SHOW you just how much of a girl I REALLY am!

[Joe begins to swing the umbrella at Axl, but Axl leaps out of the way, eyes widened, as he signals for a time-out.]

Axl: HEY!

Joe: I thought you wanted me to hit you?

Axl: NOT YET I DIDN'T!!! DAMN... tryin' tah kill me ova' here, or what? Jesus christ... *sigh* Ok... now, I'm going to give a count to three, like, one-two-

[Joe swings again, and Axl ducks under, dropping to the ground just in time to miss the shot. Axl covers his head with his hands, trembling heavily...]

Joe: Was that the count?

Axl: [lifting his head] NO, THAT WASN'T THE DAMN COUNT! You fuckin' imbecile, I was just telling you how the count would GO... Fuck! Alright, I'm going to stand up, and DON'T HIT ME YET! God damn... [stands up] Now. I'm going to count down, and on three - [flinches, thinking Joe's going to hit him... when he sees that the coast is clear, he continues] Ahem... and on the count of three... not one, not two, but THREE, got that? On three, you swing, and I'll show you that I'm more of a man than even that chauvenistic pig, Studnuts. Now... one... two... THREE!

[Joe swings... and connects immediately with Axl's skull. Axl is knocked for a loop, and stumbles about.]

Joe: That... uh, that was three, right? Weren't you supposed to... duck or somethin'?

Axl: Y-yeah... [gathers his senses]. Shit... Ok, wow... uh... see, uhm... Well, I'm still standing, right?

Joe: ... Right?

Axl: ... So?

Joe: ... *shrugs*

Axl: WOULD A GIRL BE STANDING? HUH?! I think NOT!

Joe: ... Ok?

Axl: Alright, still not convinced? Jim!

Jim: Yes sir?

Axl: Punch me in the gut.

Jim: ... What? Now sir-

Axl: Jim. Punch... me... in... the-

[Jim punches Axl in the gut. Axl doubles over, clutching his stomach, wincing in pain... before lifting a hand to his mouth.]

Jim: I- ... I'm sorr-

Axl: *blech*

[Axl pukes all over Jim's shirt, Jim looks down at the mess, and runs back into the trailer sobbing.]

Joe: Aw man... Jim spent his entire check on that shirt! It may have only cost 14 bucks, but damn...

Axl: *urp* Ugh... Oh... ok. Jon, you're the one that started this.

Jon: Uh... sorry?

Axl: IT'S TOO DAN LATE FOR THAT!

Jon: Dan? ... Who's Dan?

Axl: ... DAMN.

Joe: Ron Simmons?

Axl: JON! I want you to go for a ddt on me. And I'm going to reverse it. And I'm going to clothesline your fuckin' head off. And you're both going to learn from it, and you're going to thank me for that lesson. Now Jon, get the hell over here, and try for a ddt.

Jon: But Axl-

Axl: JON.

Jon: Y-yes sir...

[Jon heads over to Axl, and wraps his leader's head up under his arm... before dropping him headfirst into the ground with a ddt. Jon immediately rolls Axl over and checks on him.]

Jon: OH MAN!!! Axl... Boss... speak to me! Say somethin', anything! Oh man...

Joe: Dude! You killed him!

Jon: No! I... I...

Axl: *cough* Jon...

Jon: Oh boss, you're alright!

Axl: Jon... come closer. There's something... something I need to tell you.

Jon: Sure boss... what is it?

Axl: Jon...

[Axl suddenly headbutts Brother Jon. In doing so, he busts his own nose, before falling back to the ground. Jon rubs his head.]

Jon: Wow... he really DOES hit like a girl.

Joe: Well... atleast he can kick the mother lovin' crap out of himself. That's a wicked bloody nose...

Jon: You're tellin' me... Let's go grab a beer?

Joe: Let's.

+ ~ ~ half an hour later ~ ~ +

[Axl is laying on his couch, holding an icepack to his nose. His shirt is off... and Tifa is sitting on the arm of the couch, in a business suit, with business skirt.]

Tifa: Axl... do you know how weak it makes you look when your own punching bags, three jobbers, wipe the floor with you?

Axl: Tifa... you should be nice to me. I promoted you from my assistant to my agent. I think the least you could do is have some sympathy for me...

Tifa: Yeah... Hey, I got a call from BigBoss... he gave me some bad news.

Axl: ... What is it?

Tifa: He told me to tell you... you're fired.

Axl: ... You're kidding. ... You... ARE kidding... right? ... TELL ME YOU'RE KIDDING?!

Tifa: HA! You shoulda seen the look on your face. You were all "Oh noes!!!" Heheh, nah, I'm just screwin' with ya. God, you're easy...

Axl: ... I hate you.

Tifa: [ruffles Axl's hair a bit] Yeah... I hate you too. I hate you too...

- black -

==================================================================================
========
Hazing the Hierarchy - Phase 2: Projectile Marketing
========

[Scene: One of the many aisles of NowhereMart, the number one supermarket in Nowhere. Mainly due to the fact that it's the ONLY supermarket in Nowhere.]

[Brother Joe is pushing the shopping cart, as Jim and Jon stand at his sides, browsing the aisles for items. Axl is further out ahead, speaking to Tifa on his cell phone. He has a bandage over his nose, still hurting from the bloody nose his own crew of jobbers gave him a couple of days ago...]

Axl: Tifa, I just... I can't get over the fact that those... those... EEEDIOTS, gave ME... the Metal God... the SAVIOR... the Ayatollah, of SINISTER... uh... -o-lah, a bloody nose... ... Yeah, I know, I might want to drop the impersonating famous wrestlers bit if I want to be taken seriously as a truly sinister savior of sports entertainment. But babe... ... Yeah, I'm still wearing the "Le Poser" kit I got from 'Goth Topik'. I really need to start promoting them in my rants, maybe run a deal like I did with Parodyox Inc. ... Whaddya mean 'I wouldn't have to worry about damaging their reputation with all my sexually-confused-shenanigans, judging by the customers they attract'?! What, are you insinuating that they attract- ... Oh yeah... nevermind. ... Yeah, I'm TOTALLY focused on the match at 'A Chance Would Be a Fine Thing Two'. ... Uhm, what is the match, you ask. ... Er... uhm... What... IS the match you as- NO, I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN!!!

[Axl covers the phone's voice receiver and whispers back to Joey...]

Axl: Uhm, Joe, what is the match, Tifa asks? [...] Ohhh, yeah, I sooo remembered that, just making sure. [returns to the phone] Ok, it's some sorta Pineapple Cage Match or something with ten or twenty other guys in there. Whoever wins gets a shot at the belt. ... Train? Babe, the Metal God does NOT train. The SAVIOR of BoB does NOT train. For I am at peak physical condition at all times, and no matter what-

[Suddenly, a box of 'Honey Deez Nutz Cheerioz' brand cereal falls off a shelf, and happens to brush against Axl's nose. He instantly begins wailing away in pain, and jumping up and down in anguish. Axl drops the cell, and his foot crashes into it, sending pieces of plastic and bits of metal flying in every direction. As Axl grabs onto his nose, he looks down, and his eyes widen in terror, seeing his phone smashed to oblivion. Axl fumes... Axl's face reddens... Axl... is pissed.]

[And that's when Axl decides to toss a can of green beans.]

*thwack*

Joey: SON-OF-A- ... Which one of you clods decided to bean me in the head with that can of beans?

Jim: Wasn't me...

Jon: Me either...

All three: ...

[Suddenly, all three of them look up, finding Axl standing there, awash in rage and fury, and gripping a can of hominy like a dagger in the hand of a deranged mad man. And at this moment in time... Axl couldn't possibly look more deranged OR mad.]

Axl: YA KNOW WHAT... I've had it up to here... had it up tah FUCKIN' HERE- ... With being pushed around!!!

Jim: Axl... boss... put down the hominy, and step away from the canned food aisle.

Jon: Boss, you're losin' it...

Axl: You're damn RIGHT I'm losing it! EVERY... FUCKING... DAY. I'm either ignored... or pissed on. Ignored... or pissed on. Well DAMMIT... I'm sick of being ignored, and NOW?! I'm just... plain... PISSED OFF!!! I'm sick of geezers... GEEZERS... dried up old PRUNES... like Steve WrinkledNuts and Trey... uh... WRINKLEDNUTS... ... I'm sick of them, and I'm sick of the slimeballs... like Kevin... like XXXTreme... like... like... like SCOTTY WHATBODY! YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID IT!!!

Joey: Boss, you're gonna get us kicked outta here...

Axl: Kicked out? KICKED OUT?! Joey, I OWN this store. I own this damn TOWN. And if I do something, say something, want something? I do it... I say it... and I damn well GET IT!!! These people FLOCK to me, Joey. These people flock to me like I have the mother fuckin' cure for cancer! And WHY do they do that, Joey? I'll tell you why. It's not because I DO have the cure... it's because I PROMISE the cure. I ADVERTISE the cure. I PROMOTE the cure. I keep tossing out the bait, I keep luring them in, reeling them in inch by inch... inch... by inch. And when their feeble, pathetic, puny little minds finally realize I DON'T have what I promised them all that time? When they see, what they wished for, hoped for, dreamed for, wanted and waited with bated breathe for... isn't even THERE?! It's too... fucking... late.

Joey: ... Damn.

Jon: But... wait... so... So what you're saying...

Jim: What you're saying is... you're not REALLY the savior of BoB?

Axl: Of course I am, my sons. [turns a quick eye toward the BoB camera hidden in the aisle between the cans... before turning his gaze back to his 'Brothers'] Of COURSE... I am.

Axl: I am... the Savior of BoB.

Axl: I Am... the Savior of Sports Entertainment.

Axl: But most importantly... I AM...

*thwack*

[Axl sends the can of hominy slamming into Jon's face in the blink of an eye.]

Axl: ... About to give you three the second lesson in your journey to becoming ready to truly BE... the Hierarchy. It's something I like to call "The Defense Mechanism Test". It is a test of, of course, your defense ability, and how you're able to avoid attack. Now... You see this can of corn in my hand?

Jim: Uh... there isn't a can of anything in either of your hands?

[Axl looks down at his right hand... then his left. He quickly turns his head back to his followers, before snatching a can off the shelf without looking at it.

Axl: NOW... do you see this can of corn in my hand?

Joe: ... You mean peas?

[Axl looks down at the can of... peas. He puts it back, and resumes his gaze with his three man jobbing crew. He whips a can off the shelf...]

Axl: ... Now?

Jon: Beets.

Axl: ... Now?

Jim: Carrots.

Axl: ......... Now?

Jon: Peas again...

Axl: DAMMIT!!! ... Now?

Joe: Dude, that's a box of Rice-A-Roni.

Jim: How in the hell do you even GET a box mixed up with a can?

Jon: Seriously, even if you DON'T look, you'd have to be able to tell the difference in the shape... unless you're half retarded.

Axl: AGGGHHH!!!

[Axl slings the box straight at his men... only to have all three of them duck at the exact same time. They lift their heads, and look behind them, to find...]

Joe: Oh dear sweet heavenly father...

BG: YOU'RE NEXT!!!

[... none other than former WCW/WWE wrestling superstar/complete waste of time and money - Bill Goldberg! Goldberg is apparently slumming it in Nowhere, taking part in the local MMA promotion - UALYFC [ultimate act-like-you're-fighting championship], and this sudden Rice-A-Roni attack bodes none too well with Big, Bad, Bald, Bill. 'Berg stares at Joe, Jim and Jon with eyes as slits... hands as fists... teeth clenched, and only a few words left before he unleashes an attack of mediocre proportions.]

BG: Now... I'm gonna give you... THREE seconds... to tell me... which one of you sorry... sons of BITCHES just threw that damn box of Rice-A-Roni at the back of my head? ... 3...

Jon: [turns toward Axl] Boss... I just remembered... uhm... I just remembered... I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I LEFT OUR STOVE ON! [runs the hell out of there]

BG: 2...

Jim: [turns toward Axl] Uhm, yeah, er, uh... Axl... I just... uhm... I just remembered something t-t-too. I... forgot... I forgot to uh... PUT THE DOG OUT!

Joe: Dog? We don't have any-

[Jim shoves Joe into the shelf, and before long, Jim and Axl are the only two left in Goldberg's sights. As Joe slams into the shelf, another box of Rice-A-Roni falls on Bill's head, and bounces off right into his hand. He looks down at it... before looking up into the eyes of Joe. Goldberg tosses the box away, before grabbing Joe by the throat, and bringing him in.]

BG: ... One.

Joe: [on the verge of tears] I DIDN'T DO IT!!! I... I DIDN'T DO IT! IT WAS ALL THAT GUY! [pointing at Axl] AND BILL... CAN I CALL YA BILL? [Goldberg shakes his head slowly] MR. GOLDBERG SIR! I HAVE NEVER... EVER... IN MY ENTIRE LIFE... EVER MET THAT MAN BEFORE! ISN'T THAT RIGHT AXL? [Axl looks at Joe with a look, a mixture of bewilderement, shock, and fright] SEE, HE'LL TELL YA! ... WHOEVER HE IS! [winks at Axl, as Axl's expression is now simply that of dumbfoudedness. Axl scratches his neck, and coughs, knowing Joe is most likely about to get it.]

[And that's when Bill decides to drop Joe. And stare a hole through Axl.]

Axl: Whoa... wait... WHAT?! No, no, no, you're not actually gonna BELIEVE that doofus... uh-uh-are you? G- ... G- ... Goldberg? MR. .... Mr. Goldberg. Please... don't kill me.

[Goldberg creeps closer... and closer... about to do massive amounts of bodily harm to our hapless hero... when suddenly... he stops. ... And turns around.]

Axl: ... You're... you're not going to kill me? ... Wow! Heheh... sheesh... *muttering* And the Savior strikes another one down... boo-yah. Heheh, go me.

[And THAT... is when Bill Goldberg decided to crouch down juuust a bit, turn around ever... so... slowly, and lock his gaze on Axl, hands on his knees, in a stance, ready to pounce. Axl is looking to the side at a plastic wrapped item that just so happens to give off a bit of Axl's reflection... when he happens to notice Bill in the reflection... he turns... just in time to feel the-

[SPEAR!!!~1one]

- which sends both men careening backwards into the shelves, sending items everywhere. As Bill gets back to his feet, he drags his thumb across his throat, signalling for one more move... the Jackhammer. But thankfully for Axl, a nearby worker sees Goldberg doing the damage, and hands the big guy a broom and bucket, telling him to get to work on cleaning up the aisle.]

Worker: Get to work on cleaning up the aisle.

BG: YOOOOUUUU'REEE NEXTTTT!!!

Worker: You're next, alright. To get to work on cleaning up the aisle.

BG: ... Damn.

Worker: HEY! I know you!

BG: Oh, you do? I mean... You better! Or YOU'RE NEXT!

Worker: Yeah, you're a wrestler, aren't you? Hey... I gotta deal for ya. You sign my shirt, and I'll let ya off the hook with this whole 'get to work on cleaning up the aisle' thing. Deal?

BG: Sure. Ya got a pen?

Worker: Yeah, I just so happen to have one in the event I meet you.

BG: ... You carry around a pen, everywhere ya go, just in case you meet me.

Worker: Yup.

BG: ... K.

[The worker takes out a pen, hands it to Goldberg, and Goldberg jots down his name on the worker's uniform. The worker looks down, and sees Goldberg's name. But instead of looking happy, the worker looks a bit down.]

BG: What's the problem?

Worker: I thought you were Ron Simmons?

BG: ... Isn't he black?

Worker: Yeah.

BG: ...

Worker: Well, that sucks. This is the only uniform ever made that fits me.

BG: ... Whoa, what? You mean at this supermarket?

Worker: Nah. The only one. Ever. Any uniform whatsoever in the entire history of mankind.

BG: ... That's really... unlikely.

Worker: Yup.

BG: ... ?

Worker: So, I'm gonna have to quit.

BG: Oh... well... I'm sorry? You don't think you could wash it?

Worker: Nah. I've been meaning to kill myself anyway, so- [shoots himself]

BG: ...

[The worker falls to the floor, gun at his side, blood spilling from his head.]

BG: ... That's... ... What in the fuck just happened here?

Axl: That's the man, Harley! Arrest him!

BG: Wh-what? ... HEY! What in the hell are you arresting me for?!

Officer Harley: You have the right to remain silent, anything you do or say can and WILL be used against you in a court of law.

BG: YOU! YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!!! Why am I being arrested?! You can't arrest me! I'm Bill F'n Goldberg!

Axl: EXACTLY. And according to Nowhere City Law #9,328, which I just passed a few moments ago, when a former wrestler turned MMA combatant signs a supermarket worker's uniform under false pretenses of said former wrestler turned MMA combatant being a current wrestler with non-MMA background, who frequently speaks in single syllable phrases, is of African-American descent, and has hair, when in fact said former wrestler turned MMA combatant ACTUALLY is found frequently speaking in two syllable phrases, is Caucasian, and has NO hair.... annnd, said supermarket worker's uniform, which has already been signed, is the only uniform available to said supermarket worker, which is clean AND fits said supermarket worker... annnd, said supermarket worker is FORCED, by said former wrestler turned MMA combatant who is found frequently speaking in two syllable phrases, is Caucasian, and has NO hair [who is indeed NOT, in fact, a current wrestler with non-MMA background, who frequently speaks in single syllable phrases, is of African-American descent, and has hair] to quit his position as supermarket worker, and proceed to take his/her/its own life... then the NPD [Nowhere Police Department] have no choice... but to arrest said former wrestler turned MMA combatant, who is found frequently speaking in two syllable phrases, is Caucasian, and has no hair, who is indeed not, in fact, a current wrestler with non-MMA background, who frequently speaks in single syllable phrases, is of African-American descent... and has hair.

BG: ... What in the holy mother lovin' mary of GOD did you just say?

Axl: Bottom line? You made this young man, one of my sure to be many, many followers... as soon as he met me, atleast... take his own life. You, Bill Goldberg, darkened his soul with your LIES! Claiming to be that which you are NOT! For Bill Goldberg... alas and forthwith, through darkness AND the light... thou hast-

BG: Dammit, can ya just speak ENGLISH, for christ sakes!!!

Axl: You, made this guy, kill himself, because he thought you, were someone you claimed to be... when in fact you weren't. Bottom line - you lied to this poor boy, and because of that, he KILLED HIMSELF!!!

BG: But... that's INSANE! I never told that idiot that I was anyone but Bill F'n Goldberg!!!

Axl: I've got one word for ya.

RE-GARD-LESS.

BG: ... Huh?

Axl: Exactly. Take him away, Officer Davidson.

Officer Harley: No problemo, boss.

BG: ... Boss? ... Problemo? Wait... aren't you that guy-

Axl: GET HIM OUT OF HERE!!!

["Officer Davidson" drags Goldberg away, as... wait... ya know, that sure looks like... Joe???]

[Axl smiles, staring through his painted face, before reaching into his baggy 'Tripp' jeans, and pulling out... a toy Harley Davidson bike? He rolls the cycle around in his hand... before kissing it.]

Axl: Sometimes... the most sinister plans... are the most simplistic. Who's evil? Who's dark? Who's... sinister? [slowly lifts his eyes to the camera... still hidden amongst the cans of vegetables. Axl's smile is dripping with a demonic smirk... and his eyes... a devilish glint]

I AM...
==================================================================================
========
Savior Self
========

"I am the Alpha... and the Omega."

"I am the beginning... and the end."

"I am the dark... and the light."

"I am the truth... and the lie."

"I am up... I am down."

"I am left... I am right."

"I am forward... backward."

"I am the day... and the night."

"I am the mountains in the distance... the ocean far below."

"I am the beauty of femininity... the courage of masculinity."

"I am hollow... I am full."

"I am bare... yet every inch of me is covered in all there is... and all there ever will be."

"I am..."

"I Am..."

"I AM..."

"Everything."

"Everything you want... everything you need... everything you desire... Everything."

"The very thing that shall lead you... and all you know... into a new era... a new dawn. A..."

"... New Horizon."

"I am... Your Savior. For God knows..."

"You can't save yourself."

aNd NeItHeR cAn He...
==================================================================================
========
Revelation...
========

And he said unto me...

"These sayings are faithful and true."

And the Lord God of the holy prophets sent his angel to shew unto his servants the things which must shortly be done...

Look into these eyes...
Look into my soul...
Look into my heart...
Soon darkness takes control...

My followers... my sons...
Those men who've heard the Truth.
I speak unto you all...
You know what you must do.

Look into my mind...
I show unto my Flock...
These things that you must do...
As we take our final walk...

And as we journey forward,
Leaving the blind ones all behind...
We seek our destination,
We shall find it... all in time.

... And I John saw these things, and heard them. And when I had heard and seen... I fell down to worship before the feet of the angel which shewed me these things...

Then saith unto me, "See _y_ thou do it not, for I am thy fellow servant, and of thy brethren the prophets, and of them which keep the sayings of this book... Worship God."

Darkness shields us now...
From those who cry we've wronged them.
Look into the mirror...
Believe that, them, you're better than.

And know inside your heart,
Their time has come and gone...
While your time is now coming...
Our time... has just begun.

The Truth is, they envy you... and me...
Each member of the Hierarchy.
The Truth is it's our Destiny...
To end their legend... for ours to be.

And he saith unto me, "Seal not the sayings of the prophecy of this book, for the time is at hand. He that is unjust, le[/a][/font][/font][/b]t him be unjust still; and he which is filthy, let him be filthy still; and he that is righteo[/b]us, let _dd_ him be righteous still; and he that is holy... let him be holy still."

ung_sha.ll111

"And behold... I come quickly, and my reward is with me, to give every man according as his work shall be."

"I am... Alpha and Omega."

"I Am... the Beginning... and the End."

"I AM... the First... and the Last."

"i am"

...

- 13 -
==================================================================================
========
Truth Is...
========

[The screen... black.]

[Till one word appears in the middle of the sheet of darkness... one word, in crimson red...]

"Truth."

["Death After Life" by The Rolling Tomb Stones plays in the background, as images of blood... guts... sin... slaughter... and a few images of really scary clowns, all meld into one terrifyingly... terrifying kaleidescope.]

[As the music continues, becoming louder as the video goes along, the images are replaced with one more word...]

"Is..."

[As "Death After Life" roars onward, the camera opens to a dark, damp cemetary, in the midst of a rainstorm over the city of Nowhere. The city's mayor, Axl, sits upon a single tombstone, seperated from the rest by rusty fencing... and as the camera begins to zoom in a bit closer, we find out why this particular grave has been given special treatment. For it is the grave of the former mayor, Axl's father, Vince McMotleyCrue. Axl sits with his legs crossed atop the stone, his arms folded upon them, and his head bowed. To his new attire, the self-proclaimed "savior" of BoB has added a custom trenchcoat; jet black, with hot pink flames stitched into the sleeve cuffs. His shirt, normally presenting the words "I Am", today reads - "Believe."]

"S... M... P."

"..."

"Three letters, when strewn together into an acronym, curdle my blood. S... M... P."

"Sil... we meet again."

"... As the circle of life cycles from life... to death... Giving new life... Giving new death... so does the circle... of hatred. A circle, at one time filled with heated glares... deadly silence... battles upon battles... and then, bringing together alliances bound by common enemies... and common goals. It's time that I put aside my paltry feelings of contempt... it's time that I step up and be the bigger man. It's time... to make amends. It's time to do what I never thought I would, and to ask someone I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I would ask, to put aside our differences... and to fight. ... Together. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is..."

[Axl removes his gaze from a slug slithering across the mildewed grass... to glare, eyes focused on the camera's lens... and one entity, on the other side.]

"Death..."

"I've got your back."



"I know what you're saying, Big Bony. You're saying to yourself... why? Why would you, the Grim Reaper, the Million Dollar Entity, the Death there is, was, and ever WILL be... why YOU, of ALL people, need some "jobber to the stars" such as myself to have his back?"

"Well, Deathy-poo... it's actually quite simple... babe."

"SMP... well... he despises me. I can't really put it any other way. The man DETESTS me. Everything about me, everything to do with me, everything I've done here in the glorious land of BoB. Why does that benefit you? That is equally simple. I hate the man just as much as he hates me. And when we step into the ring at 'Massively Cool'... well, things are going to be a bit different than my "partner" more than likely has come to believe. Because before the event kicks off, I'm going to bring up a few matters of business to Big Boss. And one of those things?"

"Just a few ideas I have for our match. I hope the three of you get just as much of a kick out of it as I do..."

"Because, Truth Is? I do what I do, not for me, but for the fans, as well as the stars of BoB."

"Because, Truth Is? This company NEEDS a savior... and Truth Is?"

[Suddenly, the camera cuts out... before cutting back in, very quickly, to the back of Axl's coat... showing of a skull and crossbones, and two, very familiar, words;]

"I Am..."

- save_us.490 -
==================================================================================
========
1,2,3,4
========

- smp post -
===========
[Dr. Silaconne M. Plants is seen back in his office, this time at “A Girl’s Breast Friend.” We’ll assume it’s before business hours, since he’s wearing a jogging outfit and trying follow the instructions from television. He’s watching Michelle LeMay on FitTV’s ALLSTAR WORKOUTS for inspiration, and right now he’s trying to shimmy as suggested. Nurse Heidi walks in…]

NH: HA! Have you went tempo yet?

SMP: That’s not funny, this stuff is hard to do!

NH: Shimmy! Hips! Walk it in a circle! Show some style! 5-6-7 and 8! Do you realize you look SO incredibly gay right now? Kinda ironic, considering the partner my partner chose for you at Massively Cool. Massively cool… something you’re certainly NOT looking like while doing this.

SMP: Great dances to come? FINALLY….a commercial!

NH: Why bother? You know you guys are going to lose.

SMP: I’m just trying to get into shape so I don’t get killed. Axl is the WORST partner Death could’ve chosen. Do you know he recently broke Classix Rule 2?

NH: Oh yeah, the Goldberg thing? He’s such a putz, that’s a certain jobbing right there. Hey, it’s back on!

SMP: Already? That’s the quickest commercials ever!

NH: Commercials go by faster when you’re typing as opposed to talking…

SMP: Turn it off. I can’t do anymore shimmying today.

NH: BWAA HAAA HAAA! Don’t strain yourself, besides… your pot is kinda cute.

SMP: Shouldn’t you be out cleaning a lab slide or something?

NH: [mocking voice] Big circle, cross, open, to the left…2-3-4 GOOD JOB, YOU GUYS!

SMP: Are you finished, yet?

NH: Nope. And I just stopped by because I wanted to tell you that I know that was you in that video and not Death. Do you think I’m STUPID or something? So, get back to exercising. You’re going to NEED it! You’ll pay for those nurse jokes, Doc. We’re SO going to kick your ass!

[She leaves. SMP turn off the television and catches his breath.]

SMP: So. Heidi wants to shoot on me, Death is going to kill me with the Touch of Death… and my tag team partner will probably try to rape my bunghole after it’s all over. Doesn’t look like it’s shaping up to be a very good night for The Smooth Operator, does it?

But hey! At least I got my health! Well…. I don’t even have that it seems. But I do have this!

[He steps off screen, and returns with weathered paper bag that reads, “Big Bag of Dirty Ol’ Tricks©” on the side.]

SMP: I’ve got it covered… HEY! Bodies in Motion with Gilad! I can do this stuff!

[Necro Phil walks in…]

NP: *EEGADS* You look GAY! *COCKWENCH*

SMP: It’s called exercise, you should try it sometime…

NP: I don’t watch any exercise shows *FUCKTOOTS* unless it’s that early 80’s Aerobicise. I so *MOTHERHUNCHERFUCKTIT* jerked off to that!

SMP: *sigh* You know, there’s a reason you don’t get to promo anymore…

[cut]
==========
- axl reply -
==========



[Scene: Nowhere City Cemetary. Axl's father's gravesite lies in our sights... before the camera pans a bit, until we find that the grave yard is actually right next to Axl's trailer. Now THAT'S sinister. Eh? ... Ok, not really...]

"Death."

"An embodiment of the end... The end of life. The end of the struggle to STAY alive... the end... as well as the beginning."

"The beginning... of a New Horizon."

[We find Axl sitting atop the hood of a broken down old car laying on his front lawn. As the gray sky above pours down rain, Axl's trenchcoat whips roughly in the harsh wind... he adjusts his hotpink-flamed cuffs, looking in their direction instead of the camera...]

"Death, my boy... Can you feel it? Feel... the electricity?"

[Suddenly, a bolt of lightning rips through the sky, and thunder quakes in the distance.]

"Can you feel the excitement? Death... it's time. Time that you shed your fellow old school budget brawlers, and step up to the NEW regime. It's time that you prove to the world... nay... the UNIVERSE, that while geezers like the iAd and SMP may be past their expiration dates, Death? Is TIMELESS. Death? Why, Death is never out of season. The ageless 10th Wonder of the World! You, babe, are the one thing that will remain... forever... and ever. And it is with that in mind that I let you know... Something you're going to find out very... VERY soon."

[Axl lifts his gaze to the camera... showing a bit of a smile... but quickly, this smile is replaced by a determined stare... a solemn, emotionless glare... piercing the very lens of the camera.]

"Death... whether you join US or not... the Hierarchy WILL form. Not the Hierarchy you know now... not Jonny, and Jimmy, and Joey, and Jackie, and Jed, and all the rest of my jobber army. No... for you see, ever since I stepped into this god forsaken company, I had my eyes set on one thing."

"..."

"Ok, that's a lie. When I first stepped into BoB, I simply wanted to promote my album. BUT THEN..."

"Well, then I wanted to fight the sWo. And then I wanted to start up a thousand failed promotions. And then I wanted to shill Parodyox INC., and fight a masked gimp. And then-"

"... Well, eventually, I DID have my eyes set on one thing."

"The Only... World... Title... That... Matters. And did I capture it? You're damn right I did! ... For about twenty seconds. Before losing it to XXXTreme Machine..."

"BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER who I lost the belt to. It only matters that, for one, brief, shining moment, I held it within my hands... in all of its plastic and cardboard, held together by bits of duct tape, glue, and saran wrap... glory."

"And I vow, no matter what I must do, no matter what mountains I must climb, no matter what oceans I must cross, I SHALL, once again, hold the OWTTM in my hands again... not because I want to. Not because I need to. But because I DESERVE to. I am the ONLY man in this entire company that deserves that belt... the distinction of being the ONLY Champion That Matters. For I am the Only Wrestler That Matters... The Metal God... The SAVIOR of BoB..."

"I AM... Better Than You."

"And no, no, no, Death, don't take that personally. You're a smart... being. When I say I'm "Better Than You", I mean generally speaking. But, well... let's face facts, buddy. You've got absolute ZERO muscle mass. And to add to that, you're as slow as a slug riding on a snail hitching a ride on top of a turtle, and to be quite honest, you're not much to look at. Of course, you've not got much TO look at, besides bones, a robe, and a scythe, but facts are facts. And Truth Is?"

"You're not exactly the GREATEST World Champion of all time."

"But, hey. You're not the worst. That honor would have to go to SMP."

"..."

"Ohhh, yeah, that's right! Sil's STILL never held the belt! So I guess that means even XXXTreme has beaten him to the punch! Congrats Triple X! U da mann!!!~1one"

"Maybe Scotty Whatbody can fit a run in there before SMP FINALLY wins the title... on the final BoB event. Hey, 2050 maybe a FEW years away, but hell, tis better than nothing, eh?"

[By this time, a smile, thick and smirky, has spread itself across Axl's mug. He turns his body to lay on his side, head resting on a fist, with his legs criss-crossed upon the hood.]

"Oh, Silly Sil... You just don't know what you're getting yourself into at 'Massively Cool', do you? Sil... I know what you must be thinking. You wish. Wish that Death would have chosen someone for you to partner with OTHER than me. Can't say that I blame you. It would have been alot less painful. Alot less embarrasing. And a whole helluva lot less fun for mio. Yeah, that's right. So in hindsight, I guess I'm GLAD he chose me as your partner. But if I were you? I wouldn't be."

"You see, when we head into 'M.C.', I could do many, many things. Oh, let's see... [begins looking at his nails, quite nonchalantly] I could refuse to tag in. For one... I could fight Heidi, brutalize her... beat her to a pulp. But when Death enters the squared circle? I could just hand it right over to you, so you can take the beating you DESERVE. [Axl puts down his hand, and looks square into the lens] ... Or, I could just play it fair, and help you win... when otherwise? You'd be slaughtered. So, yeah, I could totally help you, dude... Ch'yeah. RIGHT. Babe, after everything we've been through? I wouldn't DARE deny you the privelege of experiencing EXACTLY what I have in store for you, come the 3rd. Once it's approved by Big B., the match of the ages will be set in destiny."

"Which brings me back to... Death."

"Death... Darling. I want you."

"I want you to be by my side... when the Hierarchy and I shape BoB in OUR image. Your place... Your place amongst the ELITE of this business could be staked, claimed, and set as soon as you make the agreement. Just a few... tiny... simple words. In fact... just two."

"I Do."

"Do you, Death, solemnly swear to forsake your BoB brethren? To step out from the shadow of the likes of Massive Man, Jim, douja, and Kurt Angel... and into the light of a New Horizon? Do you wish to begin a new era here in BoB? Do you wish to honor, and obey, the code of the Hierarchy... till... uh... you, do we part?"

"Then..."

"With the power, vested in me, as the Savior of all that Is Parody E-Sports Entertainment... and as leader of the Hierarchy, the New Force in BoB... the KINGS... amongst geezers... I now pronounce you..."

"Death... Second in Charge, to me, the Almighty Axl."

"It could all be yours, Death. Standing side by side with me, as the leaders of this industry... think about it."

"And then get back to me. I'll be looking forward to it..."

[Axl slides off the car, but before heading into the trailer, Axl leaves upon the hood a black rose... which the camera slowly pans into... before fading... into...]

- oblivion -
==================================================================================
=======
INFLUX
=======

Booger.

...

And Joe Bananas.

...

Ok, allow me to get into super suck up mode.

... Ahem.

You two men are the shining beacon of light, leading this company into a brand new era of unparraleled momentum. You two are just the sort of fresh faces that this company needs to launch itself into a new era.

And you two are a sign... a sign... of things to come.

I shall hold my call to the both of you for now... till just a few more men come to the forefront, representing this company's New Horizon.

But soon... soon, there shall be enough. Enough to begin the TRUE...

Hierarchy.

- oblivion -
===========================================================

[Axl is sitting in his trailer, gazing into the camera.]

Axl: When the time comes... you will all know where to place your allegiance.

Axl: Because, let's face it... when it comes to the Hierarchy? You're either with us... or you're against us.

Axl: And soon... those who are against us? Shall receive the awakening of a life time.

Axl: As we begin...

- the_reckoning . 14 - 5 - 23 -
==================================================================================
=======
second_coming [space g.]
=======

+ ... For too long ... +

+ ... FAR too long ... +

+ ... He has been away ... +

+ ... Tonight ... +

+ ... He returns... with a VENGEANCE ... +

+ ... Tonight ... +

+ ... It shall be JUDGEMENT DAY... ARMAGEDDON... for those that have forgotten him ... +

+ ... Tonight ... +

+ ... Those who have forgotten, shall feel the BACKLASH ... +

+ ... Tonight ... +

+ ... ... ... +

+ ... He has returned... and this time? ... +

there will be NO... Survivors



- coast_2_coast.222 -
==================================================================================
=======
Halloween H222O
=======

- Black screen. -

[...]

- cut -

=====================

"douche-ah's" response:

yo, dawg, that be some crazy mixed up tom-foolery... dawg.

- cut. ... dawg. ... -

=====================

Sil M. Putz and Nurse Spankey's response:

[The camera opens to "Cut 'Em Up, Cut 'Em Up, Raw, Raw, Raw" surgical office, in Nipples, Alaska. Sil M. Putz and Nurse Spankey are looking onward toward the tv set.]

SMPutz: Yo, dawg, that be some crazy mixed up-

Nurse Spankey: Doctor... erm... wrong promo. Try something "new".

SMPutz: Try something NEW?! Why, that's CRAZY talk!

- cuz if it ain't old, it just ain't B... o... B. -

======================

Massive Ego Man Air Conditioner First and Jimbo's response:

[The camera opens to an empty arena. "Slowly Degenerated" by Geezer Generation Zzz hits, and after a bit of time, Massive Ego Man Air Conditioner First and Jimbo walk out... well, MEMAC1 using a cane, and Jimbo a walker, but you get the point. They try to lift their arms up in an 'X'... but they fall over onto the stage.]

[...]

[An 'X' of green pyro blasts off in the ring, all the while "D-Generated Hip" lay on the stage... sorta drooling.]

[...]

- scene -

=======================

"Francis'" response:

[The NetherRegionsWorld, Alaska. Francis, Death's cousin or uncle or nephew or whatever the fuck, is sitting in a rocking chair in a nursing home. His scythe, splintered and weathered with time, lays before the chair... as Francis slowly rocks, to and fro.]

Francis: Halloween... all Hallow's Night.
A night upon, which there is fright.
Fright from kids, who monsters scare.
Fright from those who enter, dare
A haunted house... a graveyard too.
Fright they me, and fright they you.
Fright they must, and fright they do.

But in the end, the most who's frightened...
Are the ones who aren't...
Enlightened.

["Francis" removes his hood, revealing it was Axl all along. In fact, it was Axl who played SMPutz, Tifa who played Nurse Spankey, and Joey, Jimmy, and Jonny who played "douche-ah", as well as "D-Generated Hip". A cavalcade of costumed Hierarchy members, with one goal; humiliate... the elderly.]

Axl: Yes... Halloween. In which one tradition has always been to pick on the poor, defenseless, helpless elderly. Whether they live by themselves in old houses, or if they be in nursing homes, the elderly have always been a target of the young in their Halloween pranks. Well, BoB's elderly. You clinging-to-your-last-strands-of-glory-in-a-show-of-not-being-able-to-pass-the-torch-when-you-know-your-time-is-well-and-gone old coots! It's time. It's time... that a new era. A new dawn. A new... Horizon. A new blood. A new BREED... played the ultimate prank, on your pathetic, washed up old asses.

Axl: And that prank... is called "Revenge". Revenge upon each and every one of you for holding on PAST your expiration date! It's time... oh, it's DAMN time.

Axl: For I... am evil.

Axl: I am sinister.

Axl: I am unHOLY.

Axl: I am a messiah... a savior... a... God.

Axl: I am a God of Metal... as well as Sports Entertainment.

Axl: I am the Leader of the Hierarchy...

Axl: And I am...

Axl: I Am...

I AM...

- better ... than ... you. -

==============================================

Dr Silaconne M. Plants has settled down for a bowl full of delicious, nutritious cereal... probably some kind featuring whole grain and nuts. Maybe some raisins too.

He walks over to the fridge and pulls out a carton of milk. On its side, the following can be read:]

MISSING:
AXL'S ENTERTAINMENT VALUE.

SMP: [sniffs] Hmmm, this milk smells old. Kinda like a guy telling another guy he's old, for no less than the fifteenth thousand time. Or something to that effect...
Oh well, off to J-Mart, I need some milk.

[He sits down the milk and leaves. On the other side of the carton, this message can be seen:]

MISSING:
NURSE HEIDI'S VIRGINITY.

[cut]

=======================

Axl: Entertainment? Value? Two things that are meaningless in proffessional sports entertainment. Of course, I couldn't expect a guy that still believes wrestling belongs in pro wrestling to understand the Truth behind the business. Behind the Industry. Behind...

tHe HiErArChY...

Axl: I will continue to call you as well as your brethren... old. Until the day you all admit it to yourselves... to the fans... to the world. When you step aside... and pass the torch.

Axl: It's time for a new generation. A generation that understands that times have changed... and so has the business. A generation that isn't afraid to step up... and sell out.

Axl: Times have changed, dear Sil. And it's time for you to as well.

- 01101110 01100101 01111000 01110100 01100111 01100101 01101110 -

=======================

SMP: Entertainment? Value? You say? Two things that are meaningless in sports entertainment? Maybe meaningless to you, but not as meaningless as that extra "F" in professional. But whatever...

Let me tell you something, boy, for you have lots to learn.

Wrestling is hundreds of years old, it's rumored to have even been around during the Roman Gladiator times. I wonder if they had anybody named Nitro. Man, I miss American Gladitors...but that's not quite the same thing now is it?

Anyway, as long has wrestling has been around, there has been been interesting *ahem* performers. Without these, there are no paying customers. Without paying customers, there is no production. Without production, I'll just go on back to butchering titties.

Guys like you are killing the industry. BOB has enough problems getting people in the door... and by you, YOU claiming to be the saviour of this place? Do you really hear the cash register chiming in? I don't.

So, you can call me old all you like. I still know how to somewhat pack one side of the building.

You? *pffft* Whatever.

The day I "pass the torch", it will certainly not be to guys of your mold. Because you see... the symbolism of passing the torch is graciously stepping down to allow the "next generation" to carry on and having them steer the ship.

With you at the helm, we might as well rename BOB the Titantic Wrestling Federation...

I'm not pasing the torch because I'm not ready to watch the biz hit that iceberg.

The Smooth Operator is still The Captain. And you're like Tennille... in more ways than one I might add.

I love this business, and "Love Will Keep Us Together"...

=======================

[The camera opens to the front deck of a ship. On the side of the ship it reads; "S.S. Budgetanic". Aboard the ship are a variety of people... some, older people with receding hairlines, wrinkled faces, and splotched skin. These people are seen playing shuffleboard, as well as simply lounging in deck chairs, drooling profusely. All of these people are at the back of the ship...]

[And then... there are their much younger shipmates.]

[On the front deck, there is a pool set up, where 20 something year olds are drinking from margarita glasses... the women, in itty bitty bikinis, some even dancing around poles... in the background, techno music is playing, and some people are enjoying themselves by waving glowsticks and snorting - er, hey, look, there's Axl!]

[Axl is standing at the very front of the deck, playing the part of DJ. The track currently playing is "Believe" by Digital Funk Monkiiz, an Icelandic duo famous for this very single. As the entrancing melody plays, Axl peers up from his set, looking at the ship patrons... He smiles, and scratches one of the records really quickly... and as he does, the trance-like sound of the music somehow suddenly becomes even more trance-y. All of the young people on deck suddenly stop what they're doing and look up at Axl, with wide eyed stares, frozen stiff... As he continues the music, he looks off to the side, at the camera, and speaks.]

Axl: Sil... I guess you'll just never realize, will you? Wrestling... it's just like this ship. There are those older members that believe they know what this business needs... those that believe they've got it all figured out. Those that think for themselves... and end up passed by in the long run.

[Axl looks back at his shipmates... but now, instead of simply standing, glassy eyed, they are bowing before him, heads lowered... not a single standing on their own two feet.]

[Axl speaks... looking at his new followers.... as the techno beat continues in the background.]

Axl: And then? There are those... the new regime. Whereas the older regime is like a democracy, where all have their say, and work together, to help eachother? Well...

[The techno music slowly builds... before picking up into a loud beat, with hard drums, and a fast tempo.]

Axl: The new regime... is a dictatorship. With one leader. Under which these fools... whether they be on a ship or in a federation... they follow. For they know no better... All they want is to get ahead. And if they have to suck up to get there? They shall. And they will. Orders must be followed... no matter how "stupid" or "uneccessary" they may appear on the outside. For in the end... it is all for the greater good. The new generation... they don't know how to lead themselves. And the fans... too fickle, with the lowest attention span in ages.

[As Axl continues, words can be heard in the music... "You know what I need... not what I want. You know what I need... not what I feel. I will give in to you... I will give in to you... I Believe..."]

Axl: They need a leader that KNOWS what's best for them. They need someone who knows, better than they, what is BEST for this business... and the future of sports entertainment.

Axl: That is why, Sil, the generation I herald is sooo much better than that which you try and prolong. Because, Sil... my new blood... my... Hierarchy? Is willing to surrender unto me... and hand me the reigns. It's how the younger generation always has been... they're willing to follow anything as long as it appears "cool" and "hip". As long as IT appears to know what it's talking about... they will follow.

Axl: They're willing to follow any trend that is deemed to possess the "It" factor. And Sil... as far as BoB is concerned? I AM... it.

Axl: Whether you Believe it or not... whether you ACCEPT it or not... I am the only thing... the ONLY thing... in this company worth plunking down one's hard earned cash on.

Axl: Regardless of wrestling's long history in the past, there have NEVER been sports entertainers quite like the ones I shall soon lead. These men... they are unlike ANYTHING this business, or BoB, has ever been subject to. They have more skill in their little pinkies than people like you... douche-ah... and D-Generated Hip pack in your entire bodies, combined. Sure, they may be terrible on the microphone, and sure, they may not be able to lead a storyline to save their lives... that's where I come in. Whereas they may lack anything resembling charisma, I have charisma in SPADES. That's why they need me as a leader... and together, we shall, we WILL, bulldoze over each and everyone of you dried up old wind bags.

Axl: You claim that I'm not worthy of passing the torch to... that my claiming to be the savior of this company is driving people away from the arena even moreso than they have been already.

Axl: But Sil... the Truth is? It doesn't MATTER what you say... because the FACT is, I am... and forever WILL be, the only star capable of steering this ship to the new land...

Axl: You don't see the Horizon... but I do.

[As the techno music culminates, Axl scratches the record once again...]

Axl: Sometimes... you don't need an iceberg to bring an entire ship into the depths of the ocean. All you need... is a voice. A voice that a few dozen feeble minded lemmings will listen to... follow... right into their deaths.

[Axl scratches the record again, and this time, "Believe" skips into "2-D-Deth"... As Axl continues his work on the record set, every one of the young members of the ship walk toward the front of the ship... in two single file lines...]

[... Before willingly falling into the sea.]

[Axl smiles... demonically... as the camera catches a glint in his eye, peering ever so slightly up from his set up at the camera...]

Axl: I am...

- king of the world -