Welcome to Monday Nae Trous!

(A large pair of pants floats across the screen, then covered by a gigantic red circle with a line through it. The STWF logo appears)
En español donde sea disponible!
(Interior of the new STWF/CSTLL arena, the "Slobberknocker" arena. The two guys with sparklers and flare guns create the "fireworks" to start the show.)
Hello fans, and welcome to Monday Nae Trous! I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden, and joining me as always are Captain Twilight...
Greetings to all...
And Jamal Tupac Mustafa...
AND WE'RE NOT WEARING PANTS! Yes. Well, we have a fantastic show lined up for you. Our first match features Generation X as they face off against the Inevitables. Take it, Announcer Lad!
The following tag team contest is set for one fall. Making their way towards the ring, accompanied by Invisiblo...I think...from Brooklyn, New York and with a combined weight of 517 lbs., Jimmy Cain and Playboy Cartel... GENERATION X!
("Can't Hold Me Down" by Puff Daddy plays. They are still wearing their baggy clothes. A good pop, with some boos.)
And their opponents, with a combined weight of 510 lbs., the Harbinger of Death, and Gérard S. Therriault, THE INEVITABLES!
("One Way or Another" by Blondie plays. They both enter to a slight pop.)
***bell rings.
The number two and number three contenders in a match right here...this should be good. Harbinger and Cartel to start things off. Harbinger takes him down with a big DDT! Cartel didn't see that coming at all. Harbinger now with an elbowdrop! The cover? Okay: 1...kickout. Of course. Cartel gets up and whips Harbinger off the ropes. Cartel with a lariat. Harbinger rolls Cartel up: 1...kickout. Cartel is fuming! Cartel kicks Harbinger in the back of the head! Harbinger's down. Cartel to the top buckle with a BIG splash! The cover: 1..2..kickout. Harbinger tags out. Therriault with a kneelift on Cartel.
The Inevitables looking mighty good today. I really expected more from the Brooklyn boys.
Cartel now executes a Hotshot! And an earringer! Cartel with a Thesz press, and puts Taxes in an octopus hold!
Who the hell books this crap? Oliver Copp?
Stand down, Jamal, I do the referencing around here.
Cartel tags out to Jimmy Cain. Cain with a hurricanrana on Taxes. Jimmy goes for the cover: 1...2...no. Cain tags back to P.Cartel. They're keeping fresh, keeping Taxes away from his partner. A double DDT on Therriault! 1...2...shoulder up. Cartel has Taxes in a full nelson. He's really causing some pain.
Yeah, right.
He IS! Cartel has Gérard in a figure-four leglock! Therriault is not submitting... he reaches the ropes. The hold is broken.
Harbinger of Death: Come on, Gérard! These guys are tax frauds!
That really woke up Taxes. Cartel tags back to Jimmy Cain, and M. Taxes executes the CANADIAN SERVICE CHARGE!
(Audience shot for the move. The audience members grimace.)
Therriault looks spent. He drops. Both men on the ground. Cain flops over, as if he was moved.
Like by Invisiblo, maybe?
Yeah, maybe. The count is taking forever: 1.......2.......HERE COME THE CIRCUS FREAKS!....3! Generation X win, but at what price?
A major brawl ensuing, and this crowd is on its feet! They're taking the brawl back to the locker room, but Generation X are now chanting about how they're the number one contenders, and...hold on, I'm getting a message here...apparently, that match DID make Gen'X the number one contenders, and they'll be facing the Warrior Gods at Heart-Breaking Hell.
And boy, do they deserve it, after that tainted victory.
You cain't prove it was tainted! You cain't even prove Invisiblo exists!
Okay, boys, that's enough. We're moving on to our next match, as the Executioner faces Distruct.
Both men are in the ring now, but Executioner pummels Distruct just before the...
***bell rings.
Executioner beating the daylights out of Distruct with no style whatsoever! It's just...just...
I believe the term is "brawling", Angus.
In my day, brawling without style was looked down upon. Nowadays, it's pretty much the only way to win a match.
Your day is sixty-five years ago, back when you could wrestle at 16!
Alright already! Sheesh. Distruct is taking a massive beating. He's not mounting any offense of any kind! I'm surprised this is a sanctioned match, because it looks just like a punking! He's already going for the outside-the-ring finisher, the Death Sentence! HE HITS IT! Distruct is rolled into the ring unceremoniously. He places a boot on Distruct's chest, and here's the one...the two...and Executioner wins without any difficulty.
If this is the way things will be at Heart-Breaking Hell, Gruff won't have too much of a challenge ahead.
I agree with Cap on this'un. Distruct was just pitiful today. Unfocused.
Yeah. That shouldn't have taken so little time. How are we going to fill it?
(Rogue's Gallery theme music plays)
There's your answer.
The Rogue: Hello STWF maggots! You must feel so honoured to be in the same building as yours truly!
(boos galore. For some odd reason, in protest some fans are throwing Fat Matt Gigantic beef jerky sticks for the Morbidly Obese in the ring. The new rogue is bowing, almost as if he's accepting praise!) I'd like to mention that the Rogue is not associated with the Fat Matt company, no matter how many commercials they have on our program.
Listen up, you poor, uncouth rednecks! Now if you were watching the last MNT, you would have seen the Aboriginals writhing in pain, with the Keeper and Messenger Boy taunting my Gallery. Well, you idiots may have come to the conclusion that the Keeper whupped my guys' <-BLEEP->! Well, that's why I earn the big bucks and you don't! HA-LA!!!
(more boos) You see, the Aboriginals, in their intoxicated haze, accidently drank the paint thinner instead of sniffing it, OBVIOUSLY causing some discomfort. Now if you ingrates think that this is going to be a long tirade directed at that pansy-<-BLEEP->, the Keeper, well then you can open up your third bottle of Southern Comfort tonight and go back to sleep, because I have bigger fish to fry!
(Boos. One fan throws his Strike Force T-Shirt into the ring. One of the pyrotechnic guys grabs it, shrugs, and puts it on.)
I cain't believe I used to be in this Gallery.
I know what you mean. What were we thinking?
Wish I was thinkin' it now.
Now, I've heard a lot of you fans talking, rather incoherently I might add, (more boos) about how none of the other members of my Gallery were there to assist the Aboriginals, hinting that there might be a little dissension in our ranks. Well, I must tell you morons that we were too busy at the bank, counting the millions of dollars that we've milked off you! The Aboriginals decided to stay at the arena because the bank manager tended to look down upon them inhaling glue in the lobby, and that's the fact of the matter.
Wait a minute...if the Aboriginals weren't punked, why is the Rogue talking about "assisting" them?
To show how wrong you stupid, ignorant, retarded yokels were in suggesting even the slightest bit of dissension, the Gallery and I are going to have a group hug.
Oh, how sweet.
Hey! That may have been a very subtle reference right there, so quit it!
(The Gallery move to embrace each other, but Aboriginal#2 stumbles and falls because of the toxins in his brain. The other Aboriginal helps him up and all join in a group hug. Très Sheik hesitates for a moment, making gestures of wrinkling his clothes, and then rather reluctantly, and after some pleading by the Rogue, joins in the embrace. Sheik quickly straightens himself afterwards.)
Rogue: You see?!? We're as strong as we've ever been, and we're getting stronger! Watch out, because on the next MNT I have announcement to make that is going to rock the STWF by its foundations, change the face of pro wrestling forever, and make every one of you diseased peasants cry for mercy!!
(more boos)HA-LA!!! Now Sheik, did you want to say something?
Sheik: Yes! I hate all you fashionably-challenged maggots, but the worst one around is known to you people as the Cube! Now Cube, that box you come to the ring in is just sooooooo passé! And that colour? Black? Excuse me, but I thought bland was not something to strive for! I challenge you and anybody else you or Sir O. can assemble to challenge me or the Gallery! We'll show what it's really like to clash! Isn't that right, Rogue?
The Rogue: That's right, Très baby! Remember: we're the Power baby, cause we own the WORLD!!! HA-LA!
Well, that certainly took enough time.
And just in time for Col. Khorne's lumberjack match against Stealth Bomber for the ICCTINACBBIC belt!
Stealth Bomber runs to the ring, and the Gallery leaves save the Colonel.
(They all come to the ring, one by one. The Rogue does not look happy at the choice of Peter Thompson.)
***bell rings.
Stealth Bomber and Khorne lock up. Khorne with a vertical suplex. Khorne tries a kneedrop, but Stealth Bomber moves away. Bomber with a back brain kick! And another one! Khorne topples over the ropes, but OddJobber and StreetMime throw him back in. Khorne with a Boston Crab. Stealth Bomber reaches the ropes. Khorne with a backbreaker. He whips Bomber towards the buckle, but Bomber reverses it, and dropkicks him once Khorne's there. Bomber takes Khorne face-first to the buckle....
Khorne is getting frustrated. For the first time, it looks like he could lose that belt! And he can't leave the ring for a count-out loss! Bomber with a piledriver! The cover: 1...2...kickout. Bomber whips Khorne against the ropes, and Khorne goes over again! Ben Matera and Sugarplum Harry throw him back in, and the audience is laughing at the Colonel! "Pops" getting psyched now...A flurry of rights and lefts in Stealth Bomber's masked mug! The ref warns Khorne about the open fists. Dealer is mocking fear...he knows if he gets DQed he'll keep the ICCTINACBBIC belt! Stealth Bomber with a sunset flip...Khorne is pinwheeling his arms...down he goes! The quick count: 1.2.shoulder up! Man, was that close! Khorne throws Stealth Bomber over the ropes. El Spheros right there. He's beating on Bomber! This is terrible! Bomber can't win, even in a lumberjack match! The ref is yelling at El Spheros...Peter Thompson comes from behind, along with the FoJ, and they're giving Khorne a three-on-one! They quickly leave, Bomber escapes El Spheros and enters the ring. He sees the opportunity to pin Khorne: 1...2...3! We have a new ICCTINACBBIC champion! And the Rogue's Gallery loses their only belt.
Here is your winner, and NEEEEEEEW Intercontinental Cruiserweight "This Is Not A Championship Belt But It's Close" Belt Champion....STEALTH BOMBER!
Bomber is beaming behind that mask. We have one more match before we go. The Keeper will face Sugarplum Harry. Now we get to see what this "major breakthrough" Harry has made.
This contest is scheduled for one fall. Making his way towards the ring...(lights go out. They come back on and the Keeper is in the ring.)...Currently in the ring, weighing in at 394 lbs., THE KEEPER! (Mixed reaction.)
And his opponent, from Toadstool, Arizona, weighing in at 385 lbs., "The Pixie King" Sugarplum HARRY!
("The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies", played on a tuba, blares over the PA. Sugarplum Harry enters, with his clay statues. The pixies carrying them aren't there. The crowd gasps.)
Those statues...
Are moving...
Under their own power!
I don't believe it! And it's the same ones, you can tell because of those bits of gelatin sticking out of them, from Monster Bash.
***bell rings.
Wow...Sugarplum Harry has an entourage of walking statues. They can truly be called golems now. The Keeper seems unfazed by all this. He's just here to wrestle.
Did you pause to consider that maybe he's seen golems before?
No. Keeper powerbombs Harry. The weights here are about the same, but the Keeper towers over Harry by fifteen inches! Harry with a chop. Harry with a short clothesline, but the Keeper stands firm. Harry tries another clothesline, but the Keeper doesn't move. Harry goes for a dropkick off the top buckle: Keeper is finally down. Harry working on the knees of Keeper. I don't blame him, you'd want to keep a big guy like the Keeper down, or on weak limbs. Harry, an STWF legend, using his wrestling expertise on Keeper. Keeper is selling maybe half of it.
Aw, he ain't no fun. Ya gotta SELL, baby, ya gotta SELL if yo' gonna make it in dis bidness!
You've been hanging around Sweet Candy Andy again, haven't you?
And if I have?
Messenger Boy has seen enough. He steps up on the apron. The clay men bring him down and restrain him, saying nothing. Harry's going for the Nutcracker! NO! Keeper gets away. Keeper gets up. He's going towards Harry, limping a little. He gives Harry a chokeslam! And with great ease. He looks like he's going for another one...but wait, he's moving to the buckle! He slowly climbs, on those bad knees...he's on the first rope....now he's on the middle rope, and Harry's turning blue...Keeper is now balancing on the top rope...Harry pulls out his pixie dust and blows it in the Keeper's eyes! Keeper is blinded, but it doesn't stop him from executing the top-rope chokeslam! One...two...three! Keeper has won.
You'd think those golems would interfere.
Hey, check it out, they're taking Messenger Boy away! The Keeper is blinded, he doesn't know what's going on! Where are they taking Messenger Boy?
We're out of time for this week. Next week, Anarchy has challenged Bohemoth and ThatGuy to a tag team match, with a special mystery partner! Dr. Snare will take on El Spheros in a cage match! And the Warrior Gods, back in action, as they take on the Circus Freaks! Until then, this is Angus "Vince" McMadden, saying, keep your pants off!
(c) 1998 Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre