Thank Goodness It's Monday (?)
En español donde sea disponible!
(Pan interior of the Chinook Dome. Pyro guys doin' their thing. You
know, sparklers and flare guns. The temperature rises 10
Welcome once again to a spectacular edition of Monday Nae Trous!
Great show lined up. The Tiger will take on BOTH Techie Salesmen from Hell,
where EVERYONE is banned save the competitors and the ref! The fans and we will be viewing
and announcing from special booths. In addition, we've got the Geek vs. the Sheik for the golden suspenders.
Our Shoot-For-Loot contest will feature the Doomsday Chicken vs...(reads paper) Dr. Snare? Do I have this right?
Has he come back?
Wow...should be interesting to see how he comes back.
But to start things off, we'll have a debut from the man who calls himself The K...
("That's Entertainment" is being sung. The
Entertainment Industry starts walking to ringside, except Rimshot, who of
course wheels to ringside.)
Guess that debut will have to wait.
Rimshot: Alright, you mugs, clamp your lips and perk up your ears,
we're only going to say this once.
Larry Lowbrow: We said we'd have a great surprise for everyone, so here it
is. Please welcome, if you will, the president of the on-hiatus Mighty
Bastard Championship, Andrew Kingsly!
(he makes his way to the ring and grabs a microphone)
I had no idea we had this many microphones, did you, Cap?
Andrew Kingsly: As a result of the working agreement between the MBC
and the Stereo Type Wrestling Federation, and because of the fact that the
Vegas Connection are the current owners of the MBC Psycho Driver tag team
belts, after talks with Der Kommissaar and the Right Hand Man, I have
decided to give the Psycho Driver belts to the STWF for its use, and for
defending purposes. Ladies and gentlemen, I present your newest belts: the
STWF Mighty Bastard Psycho Driver belts!
Pretty long-winded, isn't he?
Andrew Kingsly: In addition, considering the fact that the Vegas
Connection have the belts, they will be your first Mighty Bastard Psycho
Lester Leary: So read 'em and weep, people! JACK!
Andrew Kingsly: Yes, well, also in agreement with the Right Hand Man, we
will be holding a tournament to determine who exactly will be the
number-one contenders, to get the first shot at those belts!
(The entire Industry looks really angry, and starts jumping up and down,
because that's what wrestlers do when they're told they have to actually
defend their belts as opposed to keeping them forever.)
Andrew Kingsly: An eight-team tournament will be held. The first match
is tonight, as Carnage and the Stalker will face Rhythm and Blues.
That's two tournaments at the same time: this, and
the Shoot for Loot! What is going on here?
Rimshot: You can't do this to us! We're the Entertainment Industry!
We've been had! Well, no matter. We'll beat whoever you can throw at us,
whether it's those Total Annihilators, the Circus Freaks, maybe even those
clay golems that Sugarplum Harry has or those robots that Seed keeps
yelling about. We'll take anyone and everyone, and win, by hook...or by
crook. We're your first Psycho Driver champions, and we're going to stay
that way, for a long....LONG...time. Now Lester, Larry, hop up on
those turnbuckles and pose for the nice fans. Give them a thrill
in their meaningless lives.
(They hop up and hold the belts over their heads. Flash bulbs go off, even
from the nosebleeds - those people knowing full well the pictures won't
show anything, but not caring.)
As the Entertainment Industry leaves, everyone is in shock. A new set of
tag belts! How will this affect matters in the STWF?
An interesting question indeed. But we really need
to get to our first match. It's a double-debut! The King will battle the
Ronin. Both men already have possible stable interactions. It's a
well-known fact that the Ronin has angered Ganbariya with his words. But
how does the Entertainment Industry feel about the King muscling in on
their business? We'll see soon enough.
This contest is set for one fall. Making his way to
the ring first, in his STWF debut, from Memphis, Tennessee and weighing
271 lbs., he is...THE KING!
(The King sings his own song, "King of the World", sounding somewhat
familiar to the Fun Loving Criminals' "King of New York". He wears a
jumpsuit and cape with so many rhinestones you can barely tell there's
fabric underneath. He enters the ring and does a little dance, with some
And his opponent, also making his STWF debut, from Japan and weighing 228
lbs., he is...THE RONIN!
(Theme from a Wrestler in Another Fed plays. The Ronin enters in a regular
shirt and pants, looking much like any other person, save the sword at his
hip. He strokes his goatee while looking at the audience, then hits the
What an interesting matchup. The King certainly has the style it seems,
but the Ronin is a veteran wrestler from what we've been told.
(Jamal Tupac Mustafa enters, looking nicely dazed.)
Heyyy...wassup, baby? Howzit goin', V?
Ugh! That smell! What is wrong with you?
I gotta tell ya, V...that douja is one cool
You can't say that on television!
Sure I can, I'm black. Samuel L. Jackson does it all
You're not Samuel L. Jackson. Now hit the road, we
have no use for you druggie types.
Chill, baby. Have one on me. (he offers a blunt.
Security pounces on him and leads him away.)
Sure nice of the timekeeper to wait until Jamal left to ring the bell. The
Ronin in like a flash, hiplock takeover. A legdrop meets its mark. He
bounces off the ropes for another one, but the King rolls out of the way,
and meets the Ronin's back with an axe kick. The Ronin crumples.
Not bad. I see big things ahead for the King. Mind
you, the Ronin doesn't look like a slouch either.
The King picks up the Ronin. He whips him to the buckle. The King with a
head of steam and a big spinning knee right in the solar plexus. He pulls
the Ronin to the center of the ring. He covers: 1...2...the Ronin with a
small package! 1.2.and the King narrowly misses a loss in his debut. The
Ronin's pretty crafty; that's the experience showing right there.
I'll say. Playing possum is always a good
The Ronin with a series of martial arts kicks. The King doesn't look too impressed.
He counters with some of his own! And with much more style I might add.
He'd better have style if he wants to be Elvis.
Hey look, here comes the Entertainment Industry! I wonder what they want, or indeed why they're back.
Just taking a better look at this match, eh? Nothing wrong with that, right?
Well, look who showed. "Black" Jack Dealer himself. You haven't announced with us since Unscented.
A stinker of a PPV made better simply because I was announcing. Go on, you call the match, and I'll
give you my wisdom when I see fit, eh?
The King looking a little worried at the new bodies at ringside. The Ronin with a German suplex. The cover: 1...2...and the King
gets out in a rather sloppy fashion. Whatever works. The King with a big dropkick, sending the Ronin outside. The King now does some posing,
he's working the crowd, and they're getting into it!
Not bad, not bad at all, but I still say Lester's got more style, am I right?
Well, the Industry isn't going after the Ronin...
Why should we? He hasn't done anything to us.
He was implying that you might be allied with the King.
He implied wrong. Remember, he insulted us, but we're not ones to take it personally. We're still completely neutral
as far as that's concerned, because words don't ever mean much in the STWF. Ask Der Kommissaar if you don't believe me.
The King goes to the high-rent district, frog splash! The Ronin's in serious
trouble. The King rolls the Ronin back inside. He's laughing at the fallen Ronin!
Well, it is funny. Larry Lowbrow funny. I like this King's style.
The King goes to pick up the Ronin for another big move...another small package by the Ronin! 1...2...oh, so close that time.
It's obvious that one should be on one's toes if they face the Ronin. He's almost as crafty as the Pencil-Necked Geek.
The Industry now backing off, they're taking some seats at ringside. Any chance of interference on their part has been quelled.
You're always casting aspersions on us. We're nice guys, really we are! You just don't understand. We want to give the fans
a good time! We want to entertain!
You want to make money.
Sure, there's that...
And slice people up with your razorcards. I still have that deck; they're good for shaving.
Well, yeah...SHAVING?! What is it with people thinking my razorcards are for shaving? You, Rimshot, Mr. Fred...
The Ronin seems to have gained control. Whips the King to the buckle, spinning heel kick! The King goes down. The Ronin straddles the King with rights and lefts!
Now he's choking the King out! The ref is warning him...and counts 1...2...3...4...the Ronin lets go. He holds up his hands in an innocent gesture.
Yeah, so very innocent. A fisherman's suplex by the Ronin: 1...and the King gets out just at two.
Wait! Ganbariya is coming to ringside! I guess that the Ronin's comments weren't taken well.
What ye sow, so shall ye reap. Old Native proverb.
Native proverb? You know what, I'm not even going to ask.
That's good, because I wouldn't have answered.
The Ronin completely dominating the King right now, but both men look good and tired. The Ronin bounces off the ropes...oh no! Sasuke tripped him with the flag!
The King quickly seizes the opportunity and takes him to the top rope. Some pelvis gyration and...did you see that?! A swinging neckbreaker right onto the rope.
The Ronin is done. What a devastating maneuver. The King places his blue suede shoe on the Ronin. The ref counts 1...2...3! The King is victorious.
Good job on the part of the King. I couldn't have done better myself.
Ganbariya DID interfere, let's not forget.
If you can't handle interference, then you shouldn't be in the sport...s entertainment.
Ganbariya is continuing the onslaught. Kabuki is hitting him with the closed fan. Sasuke is hitting the Ronin with the flag of his own country! That has to be a huge insult.
Here's my question: Where's Noh?
You're right, the Great Noh isn't at ringside. Anyway, Ganbariya sees they've done enough, and leave, patting themselves on the back. The Ronin needs help from a small group of zebras
to leave the ring. And just in time for the next match.
The following is a Shoot-For-Loot contest. Making his way to the ring first, from Mutant Farms of North America,
weighing 150 lbs. and accompanied by Pinhead, here is....THE DOOMSDAY CHICKEN!
(His normal theme song doesn't play, rather Pink Floyd's "Money", the song used for all Shoot-For-Loot matches.)
And his opponent, making his STWF return, the man who needs little introduction, the Master of the Cage Match, DR. SNARE!
("Money" starts up again. Dr. Snare looks a lot thinner than he used to be, although the hockey mask and costume look the same.)
He used to look a lot beefier, don't you think?
I'll say. And what's with the dumb sock puppet on his hand that's dolled up like Kandi?
Sock puppet? Oh my.
Alright, guys, here's how it'll go down. You get one point for most punches landed in a round, one point
for a takedown, two for a knockdown, one for congeniality, one for costume, and one for personal hygiene. I'm told that Dr. Snare is getting the
costume point, and D-Day, you get the hygiene point. Three rounds, one minute each. Get in there, and let's make a mockery.
What an interesting concept. Both men are being taken out of their element here...
How can you say that? They're in a wrestling ring, aren't they?
Not anymore. They put those little vertical strips on the ropes. That makes it a boxing ring.
Dr. Snare, or should I say Identity Crisis Man, lands a nice rabbit punch. The Doomsday Chicken counters with a left jab and a right hook! ICM staggers.
Doomsday with a double-leg takedown! The ref won't let it go further so he lets off. ICM with a haymaker. He tries another one but D-Day ducks and swats the
man dressed like Dr. Snare with a vicious shot to the back of the head! ICM looks ready to go down...
Both men retreat to the corner. Let's look at the unofficial results:
Doomsday Chicken 3
Identity Crisis Man 1
Pinhead: Come on! You're the ultimate fighting machine!
"Kandi": You can rally, Doc! He's nothing more than a chicken!
Not a bad first round. Identity Crisis Man lunges at the Chicken. It's a takedown! One more for ICM.
ICM is going in with big rights. The Chicken looks dazed! ICM definitely has this round. Chicken is pinwheeling his arms just as...
Score is unofficially tied at 3. This will be the deciding round.
The Chicken with a DDT! Is that in the rules? Well, it's being called a takedown, so I guess it is! The Doomsday Chicken helps ICM up.
Identity Crisis Man picks up the Chicken for a powerbomb!
That's apparently also a takedown! ICM covers: the ref is about to count when he remembers this is a Shoot-For-Loot. The Chicken gets up and goes in for a big uppercut.
Wow! He caught so much air, it's not funny.
No punches thrown at all that round. Two takedowns. It looks like we're going to a sudden death!
The judges are awarding the congeniality point to the Doomsday Chicken, so your winner...the DOOMSDAY CHICKEN!
"Kandi": I knew you shouldn't have let him help you up.
That was the biggest farce I've ever seen since...the last Shoot-For-Loot.
Everyone's entitled to his opinion. Meanwhile, here comes the Tri-Lambda Group and...Sunflower and Seed?
The Tri-Lambda Group all have their own matches. But why Sunflower and Seed are here is beyond me.
Hey, Edwina's coming over to the announcer's table.
OW! That b<-BLEEP->ch just swatted my face with her barbed-wire ponytail!
That wouldn't have happened if you hadn't cut off one of her pigtails in the first place.
Don't cloud the issue with facts. Old Native proverb.
Geek: I come here in the spirit of good fellowship. Seed's Garden and my Tri-Lambs have felt the need to band together. We shall henceforth be known as...
the OUTCAST SOCIETY! For all those who laugh at us, who scorn our ways of life, this is the ultimate revenge! Quake, oh you mainstreamers, for the Outcast Society
is here! Thanks to our technical prowess, Seed's newest mechanically-enhanced tag team, the Cybernetics, will be ready in short order, to enter the Mighty Bastard Psycho Driver
tournament. HA HA! Here, Switch, announce me in.
Switch: This contest is for one fall, with a twenty-minute time limit that we won't need, and is for the Intercontinental Cruiserweight "This is Not
A Championship Belt But It's Close" suspenders. Currently in the ring, the champion, the holder of the golden suspenders,
the best darn Intercontinental Cruiserweight wrestler in the STWF, the Pencil-Necked Geek!
(He raises his hands to mostly cheers, with some laughter)
And his opponent, from Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates, the challenger, weighing 234 lbs., here is TRÈS SHEIK!
("Supermodel" plays. The Sheik enters, spraying his Eau de Camelle at some unsuspecting fans. It's actually an improvement for some.)
Well, this is it, it seems. Will the Sheik finally get his hands on the suspenders and finally fashion a belt out of them? Or will the Geek's reign of terror last
another week? We'll see. The Sheik with a kneelift. A belly-to-belly by the Sheik! Très Sheik picks up the Geek for a backbreaker! The Geek is either doomed, or he's
playing the Exorbitant Arab for a fool.
My guess is the latter. The Geek may be weak, but he's got skills.
The Pencil-Necked Geek with a small right hand! Sheik just looks and laughs at him. The Geek is so angry, his spectacles are getting steamed!
Blind shots left and right. The Exorbitant Arab is being driven back to the buckle! Bait strangles him with a mouse wire! The ref is being distracted by Sunflower's passes at him,
so he's oblivious to everything.
He's making passes at the REF?! What's he got that I don't? I mean, not that I'd WANT him to make passes at me...*blush* can we just call the match?
What are you staring at me for, eh?
That's almost as big a gaffe as when a certain wrestler said he was "bi many things, but lingual isn't one of them."
Très Sheik's neck still bears the red mark. He pulls out a scarf and hides it. He thinks of everything! The Sheik now with a big sequined boot to the Geek's midsection.
A reverse DDT! The Geek doesn't seem to be putting up any resistance at all.
Could be because he's been hanging with the Sunflower so much.
Possibly, but I think he just has something up his sleeve.
The Sheik in total control. He pulls off a piledriver effortlessly! Now he's going for his finisher, the Camel Clutch!
No, wait, the Sunflower is pulling out a piece of paper. It's the contract for that stipulation match.
I believe the Exorbitant Arab is still indebted for another week. What's the Sunflower asking for now?!
I think he's asking him to throw the match.
If the Sheik does, he'll have more honour than the entire Rogue's Gallery put together. Honouring a stipulation by giving up a shot at the belt.
The Pencil-Necked Geek applies the Sharpened Pencil! The Sheik's face sags as he accepts his destiny. The ref drops the arm once...twice...three times.
Here is your winner, and STILL champion...the PENCIL-NECKED GEEK!
The PNG must sure be glad he's got an ally in the Sunflower now. But what happens if the Sunflower
ever rises high enough to get a title shot?
A question that can only be answered in the coming weeks.
PNG: Hey, folks, guess what, I'm in a good mood. To show our new
alliance, I'm going to put my belt on the line against the Sunflower.
Sunflower's eyes are bulging out of his skull! He
can't even believe it!
Looks like we won't have to wait those few weeks. The ref shrugs and gives
the thumbs up, and calls for the bell.
The Sunflower comes in with a drop toehold. Now a flying elbowdrop from
the middle buckle! That Geek must have been more drained in that match
than we thought. The Sunflower covers: 1...2...3! What? No, that can't be.
Why would the Geek choose to be pinned so easily?
Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, and
NEEEWWW Intercontinental Cruiserweight "This Is Not A Championship Belt
But It's Close" champion...THE SUNFLOWER!
It certainly is.
Don't go there, you guys. The Geek is removing the golden suspenders and
putting them on the Sunflower. The Sunflower looks like he wants a belt,
but I'm sure that will be arranged. But what a swerve, I wouldn't have
seen that coming at all! So I suppose the Sunflower will face the Maniac
at Asylum Anarchy '98.
Anyway, they all have to leave, and so do we, for the Tiger/Techies match. Even Announcer Lad can't be there. So let's move and we'll call the match in the booth.
(they move...time passes...the crowd gets annoyed, but hey, it only cost them $22 Canadian to get in. That's about $3.50 American? Something like that.)
Alright! We're here in the booth. The Tiger is coming to the ring as...what? Commercials NOW?! Oh, come on! No! Don't go to commercials n...
This episode of Monday Nae Trous is brought to you by the Albatross Brothers Gaming Corporation. Makers of the "Home Reverse Bungee Kit." Sure, the reverse bungee killed a guy in
Ottawa. So what? Now it's officially designated "extreme". And who do you think made that one, anyway? US! So get yours today. If it's on the fringe, it's Albatross Brothers!
Asylum Anarchy '98 is just two weeks away! You'll see Death vs. Bohemoth! Wrestler Smurf vs. the Tiger! Milwaukee's Best vs. the Circus Freaks! BILL vs. the Stalker in a Texas Death Match!
Mira Maniac vs. the Pencil-Necked Geek! ThatGuy will be in action, as will Sally Sleepy-Time! And more! Order it today!
Well, we're back. The bell has rung, and the Tiger is ready to roll with the Techies. Boy, the Chinook Dome looks emptier than usual with nobody in the seats.
Did anyone check under the ring?
No. Hey, where did Jack Dealer go? Shouldn't he be in the booth with us?
You don't suppose he...
Hey guys, just went for a beer. What, did you think I was hiding under the ring or something?
(looks at the can) Hey! What's with this 4.5% beer? That's even weaker than Beer For Canadian Girls. You Americans are such wimps.
The Tiger locking up with Bait. Armdrag takedown by the former North American champion. Bait springs right up. Figure-four armlock by Bait. Tiger reverses the hold!
That's impressive. I had no idea you could reverse an armlock like that, eh?
I couldn't really tell, we're so high up. It LOOKED like a reversal.
At least you can partially see it! With my eyes, I might as well be looking at nothing.
Then what are you doing here? Take the rest of the night off, I'll cover for you.
Thanks, Dealer. I think I'll do just that.
I wonder when he'll figure out that you were kidding.
I wasn't kidding. Whoa! Did you see that missile dropkick by Switch?
That's not Switch, that's Bait! No, wait, it was the Tiger! Boy, announcing from up here is darned difficult. Bait and Switch double-teaming the Tiger now. Double vertical suplex!
Bait goes back as Switch takes his turn. Big chop to the chest by Switch!
What is this? Can't Der Kommissaar at least spring for a pair of binoculars so we can call the match properly?
Yeah, right. That's happening.
I say we just wait this one out until we can go right back to ringside.
That's not a half-bad idea.
Sorry, folks, we can't call what we can't see properly.
Hey, look, someone's being pinned. The ref is counting: 1...2...3. Looks like it's over.
Yeah, so who won?
Let's wait for the announcement.
Announcer Lad is also in a booth; you think he saw?
Damn. A good clean pin, and we don't even know who got it. We'll find out on Friday after it's reviewed on tape. Ugh...I hope.
Meanwhile, let's get to our final match...a rather ODD final match, but it's for a tournament. We managed to get back down to ringside, as did the audience to their seats.
This contest is a quarterfinal match for the Mighty Bastard Psycho Driver belts, and is set for one fall. Making their way to the ring first,
with a total combined weight of 610 lbs., representing the Total Annihilation Squad and accompanied by Iceberg and Strep, here are
Carnage and the Stalker...THE TOTAL ANNIHILATORS!
("Danger" by KISS plays. The two come down to a mixed reaction. Iceberg is trying to look intimidating while people are laughing at his costume.)
And their opponents, with a total combined weight of 600 lbs., representing the Rogue's Gallery and accompanied by the Rogue and Colonel "Pops" Khorne, here are
Elwood P. Rhythm, C.P. Blues, RHYTHM AND BLUES!
("Dancing in the Streets" by Martha and the Vandelas plays. The men in pink Spandex make their way to ringside. Boos, trash thrown, standard Gallery fare.)
I hate those guys. They think they're so darn entertaining.
Oh, you're jealous because they're entertainers without an Industry connection.
Carnage starts off with Blues. Blues with a size 16 right in the kisser!
Whoops. Looks like one of Gorilla Monsoon's transcripts made it onto your desk by mistake.
Oh, will you be serious.
Come on, man. Just take this one.
NO! C.P. Blues with an overhand smash right in the trapezius muscle. Now a sleeperhold variant, he's working that trapezius muscle.
Still don't believe me? This is your script, eh? Read it.
Listen, Brain, I could have you ejected.
(Jack Dealer slaps his forehead)
Carnage right back with a hit in the solar plexus. Blues goes down, and Carnage is working over that patella with a spinning toehold.
Carnage with a cover: 1...2...and Rhythm makes a save.
Perhaps I should do most of the talking while you
get yourself together. The Stalker is tagged in. Chickenwing submission on
Blues...Blues reverses it, and now the Stalker is taking the wing. Stalker
gets to the ropes. The hold is broken. The tag is made to Elwood P.
Rhythm. Rhythm misses with a dropkick! The Stalker wasting no time, he's
right in with a Boston Crab! Now that's power. Here comes the Rogue with a
steel chair! He slams the Stalker right on the noggin. Now wait, something
was missing there, it wasn't quite right...what was it,
I believe it was forgetting to distract the ref.
That wasn't too smart, eh?
Here are your winners, and semi-finalists in the
Psycho Driver tournament, THE TOTAL ANNIHILATORS!
What a fantastic day it's been. We've seen a title change, two tournaments
are in the works, and Friday looks no worse. You'll see Iceberg vs.
Prisoner X! In our Shoot-For-Loot, The Violent Pacifist will take on Col.
"Pops" Khorne! And in our Psycho Driver tournament, Generation X will take
on the Crew! And much more! Until next week, and for "Black" Jack Dealer,
I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden saying, Keep your pants off!
©1998 Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo
Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre