Friday Friday Friday #17

Welcome everyone to another Friday Friday Friday! I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden, along with Jamal Tupac Mustafa.
Yo, yo, yo, cool cats, and PEACE! 'Sup, V?
Well, the American dollar for one. So much so, in fact, that we've decided to leave Meiger County for a few weeks, to take advantage of the weak C-buck.
Der Kommissaar's always tryin' to save a few bucks.
We're in the Chinook Dome up here in the Northwest Territories. It's been condemned for years, but that hasn't stopped US!
Y'all would think if Canada was so cheap we could at least go to Copps Coliseum o' sumpin'.
Sorry. Well, this should be a good show. Très Sheik will battle Tyrone Mayhem. Mira Maniac will battle Prisoner X. Sally Sleepy-Time makes his TV debut, despite the fact that we haven't heard word one from him yet. He'll be facing Edgar the Sound Man.
Oh, some import from somewhere. It's a one-time appearance, from what I'm told.
Oh, you mean like Kimbo? Or Cold-Blooded Ken Thompson?
Something like that.
Hold on, wasn't Zhang Fei set to fight the Executioner?
Good memory, Jamal. Alas, neither one has drawn any attention to themselves, and the match was cancelled. They have only themselves to blame. Replacing that match, we'll see something much better! Bohemoth will face relative newcomer Iceberg.
Wow! That's tons better, V. Let's get to dat one now.
You think the Rogue would let us get away that easy?
Voiceover: "I'm the Sultan of Sweet, with the emphasis on Sultan!"
("Supermodel" played on a sitar and tabla squeals over the PA.)

I guess not.
This contest is scheduled for one fall. Making his way first, accompanied by the Rogue and Col. "Pops" Khorne, from Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates, weighing 234 lbs., he is the Exorbitant Arab, TRÈS SHEIK!
(Boos erupt.)

And here comes the trash!
And his opponent, accompanied by the Tiger, representing the Inner Circle and weighing 200 lbs. even, here is TYRONE MAYHEM!
("Regulate" by Warren G plays. Loud cheers. He enters. Done.)

***bell rings.
The two men lock proverbial horns. Sheik with a front face lock. He breaks the hold soon after and asks the Rogue for a towel to wipe his hands! What disgusting arrogance, especially if he can't back it up with ring prowess.
Thass where you wrong, V. I seen 'im in da locka room, he was lookin' mighty good.
Oh please. Tyrone Mayhem with a bodyslam. He picks up the Exorbitant Arab, and a snapmare takeover. Legdrop applied by Mayhem hits the Sheik right in the solar plexus! The cover: 1...2...and the Sheik kicks out.
See? SEE? I tell ya, da Sheik's gonna take this match. He could be champ some day.
Yeah, he could be the next StreetMime! Or maybe the Square!
Yeah! (pause) Hey, wait a minute!
I don't know about you, Jamal. It's not like you to praise the Rogue's Gallery after what they did to you just under a year ago. Tyrone with a DDT. The cover: 1...2...and another kickout. Très Sheik with a headbutt. He goes for a figure-four!
BOOYEAH! Ain't no way Mayhem gonna get outta dis.
Okay, Jamal, that's it. What's up with you giving Très Sheik all this acclaim and knocking Tyrone Mayhem?
It's the whole stereotype thin' I guess. Mayhem stealin' all da spotlight fo' ghetto guys like me.
Oh, there's plenty of room for multiple gimmicks. Sweet Candy Andy and Pimp of the Year? Bohemoth and Zebulon?
Pimp o' the Year an' Zebulon, they doan work here no' mo', Mistah Koontz.
Uh-huh...Did you see that?! Mayhem just reversed the figure-four! Sheik is screaming!
No he ain't. He doin' dat Arab yell thingee dat dey do. You know, wit' da tongue? He psychin' himself up fo' battle!
While I start worrying if Jamal is going Gallery...Colonel Khorne just helped the Exorbitant Arab to the ropes, and the lock is broken. "Pops" pushes Sheik at Mayhem to get the momentum going. Sheik with a spinning heel kick! Mayhem is flat. The Tiger is encouraging his fallen teammate.
Ain't gonna help none.
Sheik is taking some time out to showboat. He grabs the mic for a moment...
Sheik: Look at you. Does this look like a number one contender to you? If I looked like you, I wouldn't!
Sheik repeating his little routine there to more massive boos. Mayhem gets up and starts pounding the daylights out of Très Sheik! The crowd is loving it! Now the Exorbitant Arab is trying to get back to his corner. Mayhem is fighting his way over there as well...
Dass a dangerous place ta be right now.
The Sheik points at the rafters as if StreetMime were still there or something. Everyone looks up, including the ref.
What? I don't see nuttin'.
It's a ploy. Didn't you see Col. Khorne smash the popcorn tray over Tyrone Mayhem's head?
Damn it, I'm jus' blind. I don't know what I'm sposed ta be lookin' at in dose rafters.
Très Sheik is applying the Camel Clutch, the ref turns around just to see Mayhem nodding the submission.
Here is your winner, as a result of a submission, TRÈS SHEIK!
I don't believe this! The Exorbitant Arab pulls a win from out of nowhere to rise to number-one contendership for the ICCTINACBBIC belt. If that doesn't show the Rogue's managerial skills, I have no idea what does.
Hmph. Hey, da match is over. Who won?
As much as I hate to admit it, Jamal, you were right, the Sheik won, albeit by suspicious...
BOOYEAH! I told ya, V, but you just don' listen ta me. Now maybe the Sheik can stop the Geek from meltin' down da belt inta ICCTINACBBIC suspenders.
That's a good point; I didn't remember that. The Geek has beaten many a lighterweight wrestler here. The question is, who can topple him? Can Mayhem snag it? Maybe the Sheik now that he has the coveted #1 spot? Oni-San? The Doomsday Chicken? Guan Yu? The Sunflower?
Slow down, V. A'ight, Sheik, Mayhem, Oni-San I can dig. Da Chicken jus' plain pathetic. Guan Yu ain't got no game, and we ain't even seen the Sunflower speak, let alone be in action.
Perhaps I'm being a tad too eager. I just don't enjoy the thought of seeing golden suspenders...on ANYONE. Knowing Der Kommissaar, he'd keep them that way. And that would screw the whole acronym up. Intercontinental Cruiserweight "These Are Not Championship Suspenders But They're Close" becomes ICCTANCSBTC, and you can't even pronounce it. We must move on regardless. Mira Maniac is set to face the newly-returned Prisoner X.
Yo, when did HE come back?
At Canada Day Chaos. Don't you remember ANYTHING?
I had a lot ta drink that day. I don't think anybody but you remembers it.
That's quite true. I don't recall too much of it myself, and it's growing to be known as the Pay-Per-View that Never Was.
Now THASS chaotic!
You're telling me.
The following contest is set for one fall. Making his way to the ring first, from New York City and weighing 290 lbs., here is PRISONER X!
(He runs to the ring with mic in hand.)

Prisoner X: I have some things to say. A lot of you want to know where I am. I've been right here all along! BEHOLD!
(He pulls the Not-Prisoner-X mask out of his pocket and puts it on. The crowd gasps.)

Oh my! Not Prisoner X was Prisoner X all the time? He lied to us, and said he wasn't!
PX: Secondly, a lot of you are wondering, exactly who WAS that masked man that helped Death to become the champion? BEHOLD!
(He turns the Not-Prisoner-X mask inside-out, revealing the masked man's mask. The crowd gasps again.)

But why, Prisoner X, WHY?!
PX: I'll tell you why, McMadden. Yeah, I can hear you, you're only like ten feet away and wearing a microphone besides. I know what B.F. Sack is capable of, and that's plenty. And he and I are good friends. Why on earth should I have to wrestle my friend for the championship belt, when I can wrestle somebody who can barely stay vertical without keeling over, and who I'm not too fond of besides? Sack, I did what I had to do to advance my career and at the same time preserve our friendship by preventing the eventuality of our fighting each other.
So let me get this straight: he dethrones somebody to PRESERVE a friendship?
PX: That's about the meat of it, Jamal, yes. So why not come as I was? That's easy. I was on the run from the cops, they still want to lock me away. Honest, I didn't do much to deserve all that jail time. Just one little...oh wait, can't say it. Alright, Maniac, come on out!
And his opponent, accompanied by the Asylum Alliance, from Hollywood, CA, weighing in at 195 1/2 lbs., MIRA MANIAC!
("This Maniac's In Love With You" by Alice Cooper plays. Vito Sorvino is right behind with the blue Mira2. BILL is right behind. The Wheelbarrow Man "escorts" ThatGuy to ringside. A very large man in a pink bonnet and flowery yellow dress, with a beard and no moustache, waddles like a toddler down the aisle as well. The Circus Freaks and Bohemoth are at the rear, looking sullen.)
Whoa. Asylum Alliance in full effect!
Well, except for Zebulon, who, as you pointed out, may not work here any more. It seems he took the suspension rather badly, or misunderstood it and left for life.
**Cut to audience shot. Wrestler Smurf has a seat at ringside with the "He's Smurfcore!" T-shirt, the North American championship belt, and the two Smurfettes (one singed save a lock of blonde hair, one with short brown hair and pouty lips.) He looks thoughtful as the Asylum make their move.
One can only guess at what's going through the champion's mind right now. The Asylum making an impassioned plea, reaching out to a man with feelings of abandonment, but can they be trusted? Can they trust him, for that matter? When you're dealing with a bunch of fruitbars, anything's liable to happen.
***bell rings.
Prisoner X doesn't look too happy at the entire Alliance being out here. Especially because the Tiger, Mayhem, Milwaukee's Best and B.F. Sack aren't here.
Can you BLAME B.F. Sack for not wantin' ta be here?
I suppose not. Maniac with a kick to the midsection, but the big felon just laughs. Maniac with an enzuigiri kick that would make any man crumble. Prisoner X staggers and falls. Maniac picks up the man by the hair. The ref warns him about that. Double underhook suplex by the Maniac! The cover: 1...and Prisoner X with the foot on the ropes. He sure knows his ring geography.
Well yeh, he knows all about bein' in small enclosed spaces.
I never thought of that. Prisoner X gets up and slaps Maniac in a belly-to-belly. The cover: 1...2...kickout. The Asylum Alliance is looking anxious...
Ah, don't worry about that. Anythin' can make the Asylum Alliance look anxious. They all nutbars. Take this Sally Sleepy-Time. He dresses like a baby doll, but he got that beard, and he looks like he foamin' at the mouth! Whassup wit' DAT?!
He scares me too. Mira Maniac with an elbowdrop. Prisoner X gets up and hangs the Maniac by the neck in a massive chokehold! And down to the canvas goes the Maniac. The Asylum is really getting restless now...
They prob'ly gonna screwjob this match out.
Let's hope not. Mira Maniac recovers from the chokeslam - why didn't X make the cover? - and gives the man in prison-issue a Russian leg sweep. He's grinding the Prisoner's face into the canvas, the ref is warning him about that too.
We sho' got some tight-<-BLEEP-> refs around here. Hey, did I jus' get BLEEPED? Man, this is f<-BLEEP->ked up.
You're lucky those seven-second tape delay guys are on the ball today. Prisoner X and Mira Maniac just clotheslined each other! Who gets up first? Whoever does will have a great advantage, as both men are already rather worn-down. It's the Prisoner! He lumbers over to the fallen Maniac. He gets in's the LOCKDOWN! And we all know that when you get in the Lockdown, nobody escapes!
Tell dat to the Asylum.
The entire Asylum is rushing the ring for a collective beatdown on the Prisoner. The ref wastes no time in calling for the bell.
Here is your winner, as a result of a disqualification, PRISONER X!
Here come Milwaukee's Best to ringside. The Tiger rushing from the crowd to save his ally. Mayhem takes more time; he's still a little worn from his match tonight. B.F. Sack starts strolling down, enjoying the view it seems. Bohemoth and the Tiger mixing it up. BILL and Mayhem are going at it now. The Freaks and Milwaukee's Best start tangling - no love lost there. ThatGuy and Sally are still working the Prisoner over. ThatGuy with a Hideous Finger Bite! The Tiger escapes Bohemoth's bearhug long enough to make the save. Aw, you can still see the teethmarks on the finger!
Thass DOPE!
You're a sick man, Jamal. The Inner Circle grab Prisoner X and hustle him back to the locker room. They all glare at Sack, who just shrugs and saunters back with them. Maybe the Prisoner's attempt to preserve a friendship didn't work quite the way he planned.
Gee, ya think?
Sshhh...ThatGuy has the mic.
(Crowd pops large in response.)
Well, folks, we've got a big happy treat for you all. This is Sally Sleepy-Time. And isn't he just the cutest thing? Yes he is. Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo! Now before you go casting sexual aspersions on me, let me just assure you that Sally here is going to be big. And if he doesn't have Asylum Alliance written all over him, I don't know what does. Sally, do you want to say something?

(Sally lifts his arms in front of himself and moves them mechanically. He looks euphoric.) Sally Sleepy-Time: wanna go beddy-bye...
(Sally's eyes suddenly grow very cold, and he starts foaming at the mouth again.)
(Sally goes back to his blissful state and sticks a finger in his mouth, looking innocent.)
Oh God, who opened the gates of Hell and sent this demon to the STWF?
I dunno, V, this guy gives me da willies.
I feel so sorry for Edgar the Sound Man. Can we get his next-of-kin on the phone?
This contest is scheduled for one fall. Currently in the ring, representing the Asylum Alliance, weighing 398 lbs., SALLY SLEEPY-TIME!
(Brahms' Lullaby plays its soothing melody, but the crowd looks edgier than ever.)
And his opponent, weighing in at 205 lbs., here is EDGAR THE SOUND MAN!
("Tomorrow" by the Stack plays, alternating between deafeningly loud and barely audible. Edgar enters wearing a pair of headphones.)

I've just been informed that Edgar is OUR sound man, responsible for all the music gaffes that happened last week, and he wants to prove that he can put up with the best of them.
Hold on, this deafening music is too much, I'll talk to him. (he goes over to ringside) EDGAR! IT'S TOO LOUD!
Edgar: What? I can't hear you, I'm deaf, speak slower.'s...too....LOUD.
Edgar: Use your own judgement.
(slumps back into his chair) I hope Sally really DOES eat this guy's soul.
***bell rings.
Sally with a headbutt. Sally Sleepy-Time with an inverted atomic drop. Sally picks him up and powerbombs him! He grabs Edgar by the legs and gives him another powerbomb! Ugh, that foam at the mouth is going everywhere! Edgar is running scared. He tries to leave the ring and flee, but BILL throws him right back, chuckling. Sally Sleepy-Time switches back to the blissful, innocent-looking baby and starts bearhugging Edgar.
Sally: Sally love you. Sally give you BIIIIIG hug.
Edgar: Get this freak off me! I quit! Use your own judgement!

Here is your winner, as the result of a submission, SALLY SLEEPY-TIME!
Sally still holding on to the Sound Man. Edgar is going limp. ThatGuy finally gets Sally to release the hold before a disqualification.
I still wonder what Wrestler Smurf thinks about the Asylum...and what about those rumours that Bohemoth and the Circus Freaks are unhappy about the current state of Asylum affairs? Bohemoth and the Freaks had no say in bringing in BILL, or Sally, and I'm pretty sure Bohemoth wouldn't want Smurf as an ally. You t'ink the Asylum will divide, V?
That's certainly a rumour that's been going around. While the paramedics are dragging Edgar back to the locker room - hey guys, how about one of you grabs his arms, not just a leg each? Oh, it's useless - the Asylum stays for another round as Bohemoth fights Iceberg.
Currently in the ring - hey, do you guys EVER leave? Oh no! No, I was just asking, I didn't mean anything by it, honest! I don't want any hugs! Put that freak away! AAAAHHHH!
Sally Sleepy-Time is crushing Announcer Lad in a bearhug! This is terrible! ThatGuy once again stops the hug. Announcer Lad is out like a light, but they stick him on a chair at ringside. Well, we have no announcer and no sound man. Iceberg gets no intro save his own strange presence.
(Iceberg enters to a mixed reaction - cheers, boos, laughter, gasps of shock - as the man in nothing but black underwear steps in the ring to go at it with Bohemoth. Strep follows right behind, looking really scared.)
I don't think Strep wants any part of the Asylum Alliance at ringside. He'd better keep his interference to himself, lest Sally take a liking to him.
You got THAT right.
***bell rings.
Iceberg and Bohemoth right now. Bohemoth with the test-o'-strength offering. Iceberg doesn't want to. Strep's advising him against it. ThatGuy sends Sally over to Strep to change his mind. Strep's all for the test-o'-strength now! Iceberg reluctantly takes it. Bohemoth with a knee below the belt! I wonder if Iceberg has a cup underneath that underwear.
He'd betta if he's smart. Weird how Red would change his mind like that. What'sa matta, doesn't he wanna hug? Hahahaha!
Jamal of course referring to Strep as "Red" because of the hair color. Iceberg doesn't look too fazed, let's go with the cup theory. Bohemoth with a kneelift, then slams Iceberg's head to the canvas! Iceberg staggers to his feet, looking enraged. A dropkick sends Bohemoth to the ropes...Bohemoth is locked in the ropes! The rest of the Alliance run around the ring to free him. Iceberg with a flurry of big right hands, ignoring the ref's warnings. Mira Maniac and BILL free Bohemoth, and we're back to a fair fight.
Good t'ing, too. These guys are big, and good. Why waste a crummy match on 'em? I mean, Iceberg three inches bigger, but Bohemoth's 19 lbs. heavier. Wit' these sizes, that's as close as you gonna come.
If this fight were based solely on physical attributes, you'd be right. Bohemoth has more experience though, not to mention Sasquatch, Dizzy Desi, Mira Maniac, BILL, Vito Sorvino, ThatGuy, and who could forget Sally Sleepy-Time. *shudder*. Bohemoth with a hammerlock. Iceberg gets out and applies a chickenwing. Standing switch...Iceberg hits the ropes. Back-and-forth action to end a Friday Friday Friday.
Hey, we ain't done yet!
Whatever do you mean? Okay, fine, after this match. Sheesh. Bohemoth on the receiving end of a massive Northern Lights suplex! Wow. Strep slides the steel chair into the ring for use.
And the award for "idiot of the year" goes to...
He throws in a steel chair and becomes an idiot? Why?
You haven't forgotten about the bearded baby doll already, have you?
Oh. OHHHHHH. You're right. Iceberg just nailed Bohemoth with the steel chair! He's laid out! Sally Sleepy-Time is going to give Strep a BIIIIIIG hug! As the sounds of Strep's ribs cracking fills the arena, bringing to mind memories of wood knots popping around the campfire, Iceberg stops paying attention to the dropped coal miner, and tries to save his manager.
The Asylum at ringside is really gettin' people worked up and makin' stupid moves. I don't care WHO you are, you don't leave the ring with a bunch of insane peeps right there!
Well, it's outside the ring, and it's all nice and legal. Sasquatch and Iceberg meeting eye-to-eye, Sasquatch punches Iceberg hard in the shortribs. Mira Maniac and BILL are hammering away at the man from the Total Annihilation Squad. Iceberg shoves them all away and physically tries to pry Sally off of Strep. Sally heaves Strep away and gives Iceberg a stare to chill the blood. Bohemoth is up...he's going to the top buckle and getting ready for a Smasher! Everyone clears out... the Smasher misses completely! Carnage and the Stalker are falling all over themselves trying to hit the ring and provide some assistance.
Even wit' dem around, it ain't gonna be worth a damn. The Asylum Alliance just got too many members for three to make a dent.
Won't stop them. A major brawl ensuing!
***bell rings.
Ladies and gentlemen, this match has ended in a DOUBLE COUNT-OUT!
Nobody seems to care! They're all on the edge of their seats, waiting to see what happens next! It's at this brawl that we end Friday Friday Friday. On Monday Nae Trous, the schedule (we think, ugh) is as follows: B.F. Sack versus Death in a perspex cell (for championship belt)
Triangle Match: The Stalker vs. PunkMe PayMe vs. Sally Sleepy-Time
The Bad A$$es vs. the Circus Freaks
Milwaukee's Best vs. the Crew (for the tag titles)
Pencil-Necked Geek vs. Très Sheik (non-title, for shot next week)
I guess PunkMe PayMe and the Stalker better choose their words carefully in the next few days.
That's an understatement. For Jamal Tupac Mustafa, I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden saying, tune in next week to Friday Friday Friday, because one Friday is never enough.
©1998 Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre