Monday Nae Trous
Monday Nae Trous - Monster Bash is Coming!


(Pan Interior of the Slobberknocker Arena. Many signs go up, including "SuperWrestler = Mighty Mouse", "Hail the Sultan of Sweet" and "the Right Hand Man took my other sign".)
Welcome everyone to Monday Nae Trous! I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden, here along with Captain Twilight and Jamal Tupac Mustafa. Just like the old days.
About time someone round here gave me the props!
Yes! Well, what better way to start things off than with the Shoot-For-Loot tournament!
This is a Shoot-For-Loot contest! Entering first, from Memphis, TN, weighing 271 lbs., THE KING!
("Money" by Pink Floyd, the official Shoot-For-Loot song, plays. The King brings his sequined jumpsuit and blinds the first three rows as he spins.)
And his opponent, representing the Inner Circle, from New York City, weighing 290 lbs., PRISONER X!
("Money" continues to play as the cops escort Prisoner X down.)

Prisoner X has a mic...
I beat Presto Cadabra's tiger if it meant getting a title shot. I'm sick of waiting! I don't need to wait after Monster Bash to show that I should be the champ. So King, I'm gonna forfeit my match to you, if it means I can get a shot at BF Sack tonight! Sack, I need your answer now!
The King: This is all just fine and dandy with me, daddy-o, yuh huh.

B.F. Sack is on the Monstron...
B.F. Sack: You want a piece of the Sack tonight? Well, you got it! Boom chick a boom, I said Boom chick a boom.
Well, alright!
Here is your winner, as a result of a forfeit, THE KING!
Up next, the debut of the...er, unique Irving Goldstein.
Unique? How can you say that? He took my "old guy" gimmick away!
Oh, don't be jealous.
This contest is set for one fall. Making his way to the ring first, from London, England, here is OddJobber!
(The re-worked James Bond theme plays. OddJobber comes out to much less pop than he did before. The chants of "Free Joe Rain!" are far quieter than initially.)
And his opponent, from Brooklyn, New York and weighing 115 lbs., Irving Goldstein!
("Hava Nagila" begins to play. A few of the audience start dancing, but the rest don't look terribly impressed at the sight of a shirtless nonegenarian.)

***bell rings.
Irving Goldstein against the underrated OddJobber. Goldstein with a pretty bad right hand, but OddJobber sells it like it was a baseball bat!
I wonda how much Goldstein paid OddJobba to do dis.
OddJobber is happy to get anything. Goldstein with a kneelift. Irving now, ready for another maneuver, but wait! OddJobber with a headscissors takedown, and the crowd is gaining respect for our lost jobber once again!
OddJobber is talented, but how can you respect his apathy?
I can respect apathy, as long as it's tastefully done.
Goldstein with a big bodypress! Well, a small bodypress anyway. OddJobber is really doing his...
Don't say it, homey.
Fine. But Irving Goldstein isn't done! He picks up OddJobber in vertical suplex position.... and down in a bodyslam.
Oh, a SackHammer?
Well, technically, yeah, but he calls it a Shekel Driver.
Yo, if dis gets...aw, forget it. No use.
Irving Goldstein covers: 1...2...3! This one was over before it began.
Well, you know, V, about OddJobba, and the takin' the money, so he can lose, and buy some macaroni o' powdered gravy o' sumpin'...less juss say he coo' takin' a dive.
While Jamal becomes coherent again, let's go to commercial!

Funding for this program is given by:


And we're back. The Violent Pacifist is in the ring now with Sir Hungalot and Strep on the outside.
(Gratuitous Tina's theme song, "I Draw the Ratings", plays as she wiggles down to the ring and grabs a mic.)
It's my pleasure and honour, with emphasis on pleasure, to introduce to you, from New York City, weighing 254 lbs., His Royal Sweetness, the Candyman, SWEET CANDY ANDY!
Voiceover: Man, my chocolate's SOOOOOOOOO sweet!
("Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees plays as Andy hustles down to the ring. He's waving his silver duck's head cane around like he had recently won a match or something, which as anyone who's been here a while might know...)
Andy hits the Pacifist between the legs with the cane just before the...
***bell rings.
Andy gains the early upper hand. He takes his fur-trimmed cape and covers the Pacifist's head with it! Some cheap shots, followed by a DDT!
Dirty tactics for a dirty man.
Boo-yeah! You GO, boyee!
The ref removes the cape and hands it to a ring attendant. Andy clotheslines the Pacifist. He's going to the high-rent district... he's going for a flying elbowdrop! Andy wasting time...he pays for it as the Violent Pacifist rolls out of the way. He's got enough juice in him yet.
I expect this is where the VP gains control.
The Pacifist with a double-chickenwing submission. Sweet Candy Andy with a reversal! How he did that, I have no earthly clue. Andy releases the hold. Scoop slam by the Pacifist. He hooks the leg: 1....2....shoulder up by the Candyman. Pacifist with a fistdrop.
A remarkably violent move for one who preaches pacifism. I suppose Strep and the rest of the TAS are rubbing off on him.
Less juss wait until it starts rubbin' off on Sir Hungalot! Ouch!
The Pacifist is choking Andy out! The ref counts 1...2...3....4...the Pacifist lets go. Andy gasping for air, but the Pacifist isn't done, as he scoops up the Candyman and puts his neck across the ropes! He bounces off the other side, and he brings a big leg over the top of Andy's head. Andy is thrown off, still clutching his neck.
The Pacifist is getting ready for the Dreammaker...and what a great time while Andy's got little air as it is.
That's the mark of a great technician - pick a body part and go with it, or apply a consciousness-affecting move when he's winded.
Strep and Sir Hungalot are already celebrating outside the ring. They think it's over! The ref lifts the arms once...twice...no! Andy is still conscious. He gives the Pacifist a few good elbows to the abdomen, he whips the VP off the ropes and a spinning heel kick meets the Pacifist right in the kisser! The Candyman is going up top, and I think it's time for the Flying Pimp Slap! Oh, no! Sir Hungalot just pushed Andy off the top rope, and the Violent Pacifist spikes Andy's head right into the canvas. This one's over, folks, you could count to sixty-nine, Andy's not getting up. 1...2...3.
Here is your winner, THE VIOLENT PACIFIST!
I can't believe the ref missed that. These stables are getting away with far too much.
It doesn't matter, Cap. This match meant virtually nothing in the big scheme of things...unless of course, Andy had a chance to become a ranked contender.
They juss tryin' to keep guys like us down! It's da MAN, I tell ya.
Of course, Jamal. It's always the Man. Let's move on, as the Bad <-BLEEP->ses get a shot at the Mighty Bastard Psycho Driver belts against lthe current champs, in the Total Annihilators.
It's a tough call, certainly, because both teams are just so horrible.
I can't believe you just said that! What's gotten into you?
Eighty-two years of bitterness and a bad prostate on top.
Tee-Em-Eye, Cap.
I'm going with Jamal - that really was too much information.
This tag team contest is for the Mighty Bastard Psycho Driver belts, and is set for one fall. Entering first, the challengers, from Oakland, California and weighing 470 lbs. collectively, "Mark" and "Chris", the BAD <-BLEEP->SES!
("TNT" by AC/DC plays as the challengers make their way to the ring to ever-increasing pop.)

Yo, V, isn't there some tension between these guys, an' the Pacifist `n' Hungalot? Because they're meetin' up halfway up the ramp.
You're absolutely right, Jamal, and look at this, we've got a brawl happening right now! The B.A.s and the Squad representatives holding their own right now, it's a real back-and-forther!
And their opponents, the champions, representing the Total Annihilation Squad and weighing 610 lbs. collectively, Carnage and the Stalker, THE TOTAL ANNIHILATORS!
Oh Lord no. I can't believe Announcer Lad just gave the Total Annihilators access to enter the ring and join the fray! Now the TAS members outnumber the BAs 2-1, not including Strep! This is a real bloodbath now.
I'm unsure if this wasn't a set-up from the very beginning! Did the Total Annihilators have any intention of trying to defend the belts at all? Whoa, did you see Chris get slammed into the security barrier! Mark just thumped Carnage and the Pacifist's heads together, but will it help in the long run?
Here come da rent-a-cops!
And a slew of referees, which is unusual because we've only used two referees for our entire history, and Raoul Ramon Ramirez hasn't been seen since Mexico Unlimited got deported. Order is trying to be restored, but the damage has been done. The Bad <-BLEEP->ses will be in no shape to wrestle.
At least, not this week. The recovery rates of all our wrestlers is nothing short of miraculous!
That's true, Captain Twilight. Our medical staff are experts. It's perhaps the only thing into which Der Kommissaar puts good money.
It sure isn't for quality announcers, isn't that right, Jamal?
Yo, wass that sposeta mean?
Sir Hungalot: You're obviously not ready for the "big" leagues, boys. Don't expect to get any belts if you can't penetrate our defenses. Try the Pacifist and myself. The Unlikely Alliance is going to pound you into mincemeat. It'll hurt at first, but once you get used to it, you'll be ready to move on.
Sir Hungalot's connotations are certainly...wrong. They're just wrong. Leave that sort of talk for the Sunflower. Please.
The Violent Pacifist: I'm really sorry we had to resort to these tactics, but we saw the need to do this, and do it we must. Forgive me, you'll get your chance for revenge in the ring. Which is not to say you'll get it, just that you'll have the chance.
Well I for one can't wait to see a confrontation between Mark and Chris, and the Unlikely Alliance as they call themselves. But now as the ring is being cleared, let's go to our six-man Alliance/Inner Circle match! Let's go to another commercial, shall we? We promise, no Meatnsaucy.

(dance beat is heard in the background. A city block is seen, with some buildings separating into smaller cubes and moving around. Focus goes to a car, with a driver inside.)
Gino was a driving guy, with stereophonic memory.
Julian dumped his boyfriend Lance, forget THAT cheating misery.
Jenny works in cyberspace, porno spamming all day long.
Benito, he couldn't swing, but kept the bat, and kept it strong.
(crackling is heard, followed by static)

What exactly was that commercial about?
I haven't a clue. I remember the days when jingles mentioned the product within the second line, if not the first.
And apparently, Fred Meatnsaucy wasn't too happy that we got a different sponsor, so he cut it off halfway. Anyway, all six men are in the ring, and it looks like the mighty Bohemoth will face off against Beast. The ref checking the boots of everyone except the barefoot Sasquatch, and...
***bell rings.
Bohemoth and Beast in a "test-o'-strength". Bohemoth is winning the contest...wait, Beast is gaining control...both men let go it fruitless effort. Beast with a vertical suplex, what power! Both men up. Bohemoth with a big gorilla press! I can't believe it. Bohemoth with a legdrop. He covers: 1...forget it.
It's not fair to try and cover someone before all six men have had a turn.
Is that how it goes?
Always.
Yeah? We'll see. Beast with a rake to the good eye of Bohemoth. Beast with a BIG German suplex. The shockwaves on the mat throw Beast Light and Dizzy-D clear off! They scramble back up. Beast covers: 1...2...no. Bohemoth with a swinging neckbreaker! Wow, what a maneuver! He drops the big leg and covers: 1...2...kickout by Beast! Beast and Bohemoth in a general brawl...
Look, no restholds!
We're all amazed, Captain. Bohemoth with a European uppercut. And now he tries to pick Beast up for a powerbomb....the Tiger makes the save! Bohemoth grips his knees in agony. Beast tags in the Tiger. The Tiger making quick work of him...he brings a knee on Bohemoth's head and slams it to the canvas. That's a pain that's going to linger.
Yo, quit sellin' the match, let it speak fo' itself.
The Tiger goes to the middle rope...FLYING CLOTHESLINE! Bohemoth crumbles like a ton of bricks...or at least, 490 lbs. of bricks. The Tiger makes a weak cover and counts himself: 1...2...Sasquatch makes the save.
It's about time they got in there.
Indeed. But how long can they keep making the save without being tagged in? The Tiger tags in Beast Light. Some double-teaming efforts going on...double DDT by the Inner Circle-ites. Beast Light with a dropkick, which is effective in Bohemoth's weakened condition. Beast Light pulls up Bohemoth, tries a hurricanrana...but just hangs there. He can't get the momentum. Bohemoth slumps to his knees, and Beast Light just piledrove himself! Bohemoth drapes his massive frame over Beast Light: 1...2...Beast makes the save, lucky for Light. I don't know if ANYONE can get their shoulders up with all that deadweight on it.
Is there a joke in there somewhere? It sounded like there might be.
No, no joke. Bohemoth gaining control now...and can he make the tag to end this confrontation? He heaves Light into his own corner, where the Circus Freaks are more than happy to hammer away at him.
Beast Light is out of the corner. Bohemoth makes a charge at Beast Light for a big tackle...Beast Light somersaults over the coal miner and tags Beast back in! Beast wastes no time in dropkicking the Asylum member from behind. He applies the Blackout sleeper....oh forget it...Bohemoth is not going to wake up from this one.
***bell rings.
Here are your winners, as a result of a submission, THE TIGER AND MILWAUKEE'S BEST!
Now, what was that you said about matches not ending unless all six men had a chance to wrestle, Cap?
Um...this is the STWF?
You'd better believe it is. Now, our special main event, as promised - Prisoner X gets a chance to take the STWF Heavyweight belt away from B.F. Sack, our current champion.
This contest is set for one fall, and is for the STWF Heavyweight Championship. Entering first, from New York City...aw heck, I introduced him once today, you remember...PRISONER X!
(he enters to about the exact same entrance he did for the Shoot-For-Loot, save the fact that Pink Floyd isn't playing.)
And his opponent, from Panama City, Florida, weighing 282 lbs., B. F. SACK!
(The theme to "Sanford and Son" plays as quite possibly the most popular champ ever enters the ring, to a quite loud response.)

***bell rings.
What a great match-up! I for one think that Prisoner X can pull it off, and we'll see a new champ crowned here tonight!
Not to mention the fact that Death'll get a shot if'n he does...at Monster Bash.
That's right. And wouldn't it be a turn of events if Death DID take the belt at Monster Bash, the week after Prisoner X wins it?
At least it would be nicely cyclical.
Sack with an armdrag takedown. Sack wasting no time, he plants a knee right in Prisoner X's solar plexus.
Yo, here comes Death to da booth.
Death: Get out of here, Mustafa. You're not needed here.
Thass cool, I getsta knock off early! (leaves)
To what do we owe the pleasure, Death?
Just coming to cheer on Prisoner X is all.
With no intention of interfering, I assume.
What has just been implied here? Hey Angus, wanna beer? It's from...(squints at bottle)...oh, who cares where it's from, it's BEER!
No thanks, and we have a match to call! Prisoner X has a Boston Crab on Sack. Sack is moving slowly towards the ropes...P-X pulls him right back to the center. Sack makes the long walk once again....this time he gets it!
Death: That's right, wear him down.
Let's be objective, please.
Death: MY objective is to see that Prisoner X wins. With just my moral support of course.
(McMadden and the Captain together): Of course.
B.F. Sack with a gutwrench suplex. Sack now tosses Prisoner X to the outside...springboard maneuver coming your way... Prisoner X takes a forearm right in the neck!
Death: Excuse me a moment...you don't need this chair anymore, do ya?
Um...no...but I think the chairs here are bolted down.
Death: Damn it, you're right. Ooh, here's a nice chair - out of the way, timekeeper!
Sack and Prisoner X are fighting all the way up the ramp. Now they're fighting back down as the ref is counting them out. Prisoner X applies a jawbreaker to B.F. Sack, and rolls him into the ring, with Death making his intentions known to Prisoner X.
I can't tell what Prisoner X's reaction is...is he for it, or is he distrustful? Hard to tell with P-X's stoic expression.
Prisoner X whips Sack to the ropes, where Death meets his with the chair, right on the noggin! Sack crumples, and Prisoner X covers: 1...2...3! Oh my Lord, we have a new champion!
Here is your winner, and NEEEEEEW STWF Heavyweight champion, Prisoner X!
Wait...SuperWrestler is coming to the ring. He's talking to the ref...Chet has just rolled up an instant replay of the turn of events, and SuperWrestler is doing his best to restore proper order to the structure of champions here.
I don't think the ref's buying it.
Yes he is, he's rolling his arms in a circle...
Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has reversed his decision, the winner of this match as a result of a disqualification... B.F. SACK!
Well, it was nice while it lasted. Prisoner X is verbally smacking Death around. Death is looking defensive...but now he's getting right back in the felon's face! Big brawl ensued as SuperWrestler helps Sack back to the locker room. It's at this brawl that we must end this program. Please order Monster Bash, coming soon! We've got plenty of great gimmicky matches...it's the most fun you'll ever have at a PPV, we promise! For Captain Twilight, and the absent Jamal Tupac Mustafa, I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden saying, keep your pants off!
©1998 Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre