Monday Nae Trous
Monday Nae Trous - Golden Anniversary

This page possibly best viewed when using Netscape. It's a good bet, anyway.
(Opening credits begin. Hokey rock music abounds. Superstars in action. BILL getting injured about six times. Hey, is that Cross-Eyed Chris Armstrong?)
(Pan interior of the Large Dome. Decent pyrotechnics for a change. That's right, we've dug out the Burning Schoolhouses for this episode!)
WELCOME TO THE BIGGEST NAE TROUS EVER! I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden. With me are Captain Twilight and Jamal Tupac Mustafa, and WE'RE NOT WEARING PANTS!
Yeh, V, dis one's gonna be BIG.
I can hardly contain myself! Anyway, because Der Kommissaar feels the need to try and be like everyone else, he's asked that we start off with an interview. So I'm doing a Twilight Zone now.
Groan.
Hello everyone, and welcome to yet another episode of the Twilight Zone! With me, Captain Twilight.
I hate it when he does dat.
Don't make me come down there, Mustafa! So at this time, let me introduce the man who's facing Dr. Snare tonight. The North American Champion.... The Violent Pacifist!
Audience: *Yawn*
The Violent Pacifist: (entering) Hey! You don't see making fun of you! But I forgive you.
You're the current North American Champion. People are starting to say that you're due to lose the belt. What do you think your chances are against Dr. Snare tonight?
VP:You know, I think that people don't like seeing a pacifist as champion. I think it worries them that a non-violent man represents North America. Well, I have defended before and I will defend again. I know that having a pacifist in high places can do wonderous things to people's attitudes. Dr. Snare, I will see you later with my belt on the line, I hope you enjoy a nice <-BLEEP->whippin'.
It's nice to see that our seven-second tape delay guys are on the ball even for this Golden Anniversary.
As of this time, the future of the Total Annihilation Squad is uncertain, what with the possible firings of Iceberg and the Total Annihilators. Is independence in the works for you?
VP: The Total Annihilation Squad helped get me to the point I am at today. I will be deeply saddened to see them go. But, I'm always thinking ahead, and there are a few surprise still up my sleeve for the STWF.
Sir Hungalot smacks you on the head with a bowling ball and you forgive him. Do you think you can still trust him? I mean, the guy hit you with a bowling ball, that had to hurt. How long can the Unlikely Alliance stay together?
Well, it wasn't meant to tickle, I'll tell you that much. I still trust the Big Sir, whether he likes it or not. He is still my tag team partner until something drastic happens. I don't know exactly where he stands on the issue, but I want a chance at the tag team belts. Circus Freaks, I've done it before, and I will do it again, I challenge you to a tag team championship match ASAP. And Sir Hungalot, if you're listening, you are part of the Unlikely Alliance too. If you show, good. If not . . . .
Where do you see the Violent Pacifist (or the Unlikely Alliance, if you will) in the upcoming months?
Like I said before, I have a few tricks up my sleeve. I cannot reveal my secrets yet. I will become a force in the STWF, with or without TAS and the Unlikely Alliance. It will begin with tonight's match with Dr. Snare. I will pull out all the stops tonight, and go from there. Starting tonight, if you stand in my way, you will be more than just "totally annihilated."
Enjoy that phrase while you can, it's going to be old hat in like 24 hours. Thanks for the interview; entertaining, and we learn nothing. Good luck tonight. (mutters) Oh BOY are you gonna need it.
VP: That's not very nice, Captain. I'm sorry you feel that way.
Does anyone want to see wrestling tonight, or do you think we need another interview?
(Crowd cheers)
Wait, did that mean you wanted the wrestling, or the interview?
(Crowd cheers)
Uh...thanks. This contest is scheduled for one fall, and is suitable for a first match of the night. Entering first, from the Utah Baddlands and weighing in at 256 lbs., and accompanied by Angel, and this is officially a run-on sentence now.... BILLY U. BADD!
("One Badd Studd" by the Blasters plays. Billy comes out wearing cow-print tights and a brightly-coloured bathrobe. He's also wearing a headband for some reason. The crowd drops their jaws at Billy, and then quickly drops them further after glimpsing what little Angel's wearing.)
And his opponent, from Moosebutt, B.C., weighing an astonishing 241 lbs. (well, not THAT astonishing) here is Claude "Lightning Fingers" Leroux!
("O Canada" is played on his accordion as Claude enters. Before entering the ring, he pauses to freshen his breath with pepper spray (all you Americans, if you didn't get that, go find a Canadian news website and type "APEC" in the search engine.))
***bell rings.
Now, fans if you'll remember, this match was supposed to be Claude Leroux vs. Braxton Chane, but right now Chane has been suspended from Nae Trous appearances because he isn't expected to re-sign his contract. Anyway. Claude Leroux with an armdrag takedown.
Hard to tell who to like in this match. Claude might have potential, but I've heard good things about Angel's managerial skills and indeed wrestling ability.
Wrestlin' ability? You ain't nearly supaficial enough, Cap.
Well put, Jamal. Now here's Billy with a double underhook DDT. He's running laps around the ring, what an insult to Claude Leroux!
(time passes)
Alright, now this is just getting boring.
Dis guy REALLY needs less sugar.
Claude is up. He dropkicks Badd right into the turnbuckle. Billy U. Badd looks like he's going to get a counting lesson courtesy of the crowd...
Audience: UN! DEUX! TROIS! QUATRE! CINQ! SIX! SEPT! HUIT! NEUF! ..... DIX! (cheers)
Leave it to the STWF audience to surprise you every time.
Claude has stopped, but Billy keeps going! I think he's having fun smacking his head on the turnbuckle or something. Claude just slumps in a corner and plays the theme from "Jeopardy!" on his accordion.
Thass appropriate.
I think Billy is starting to tire.
You think?
Claude is in with a small package. 1...2...no. Claude with a Samoan drop. Another cover: 1...2...kickout. Billy U. Badd, rallying. There's a right! A left! And now he's actually throwing some hits!
That's about the best way to sum DAT up.
Badd now with a reverse thrust kick that put Claude Leroux to the ground. Badd sends Leroux for the ride, back body drop. He makes the cover: 1...2...no. He goes for a slingshot...and slings himself back to the buckles!
Ah, STWF. Home of the Superstars and Subsuperstars. And some mugs from out of Memphis.
Mugs? You've been spending too much time with Rimshot. Lightning Fingers pulls Billy away from the buckle and rolls him up. 1...2...3! Well, it's about time.
Here is your winner, CLAUDE "LIGHTNING FINGERS" LEROUX!
Hmmm...maybe Angel will have more luck with her Gay Bartender friend.
Less hope so, if it means seein' more o' Angel!
Anyway, let us continue on this wacky trip that we like to call Monday Nae Trous.
This contest is set for one fall. Making his way to the ring first, accompanied by Grampa, weighing a massive 387 lbs....HERE .... IS .... ARNOLD!
("Selling the Drama" by Live blares over the PA as the man in the black ski mask walks out. The crowd gives a minimal pop.)
And his opponent, from New York City, accompanied by "the Don", weighing in at a slightly-less-than-massive 315 lbs., TONY "THE MOBSTER" BASCERE!
("Speak Softly, Love" plays as "the Don" waddles out. Tony walks out next and lifts his arms as if expecting a huge pop. He doesn't get it.)
Tony: What's wrong with you? I beat douja and this is the respect I get?
(cut to a sign reading: "STWF fans: Difficult to Please")
That fan doesn't know the half of it.
In the most innocent sense of the phrase?
Of course.
***bell rings.
Here we go! The first two alphabetically-ranked wrestlers in the STWF going at it right now. Some back-and-forth hitting happening right now. Tony with a shoulderblock. Arnold replies with a headbutt. The Mobster with a short clothesline and now he's doing some stomping. He pulls up Arnold by the mask...
Who's under the Arnold mask? Is it Anarchy? Gruff? Da Executioner? Pedro Chang?
It's unlikely it's any of them seeing as how NONE of them were spotted in the Ivory Tower. And Pedro Chang isn't even close to 6'7" let alone 387 lbs.
Hey, dat's what'll make it so surprisin'.
Captain, slap him for me, would you please? But later, when he's not expecting it. Arnold executes a hiplock takeover. The fans are showing their enthusiasm! They're on their feet!
That's because they're going to the bathroom-slash-concession stand.
I'll neva unnerstan' why dey put dem in da same facility.
Well, you're certainly right about that. Here, is a copy of the script handy? Great. Hand it to me...let's do a little novelty booking, what do you say?
Sounds good.
I'm in.
By the way, kids, no matter what they tell you, wrestling is real. Believe it. Okay, let me just scribble this in...tee hee.
Hey! You're not putting me in this angle are you?
No, don't worry about that. Take a look.
Pretty sad, Vince. No wonder they took you off the committee.
Wait! Look! In the rafters! It's StreetMime! He's coming down on the rappelling belt.
Aw, McMadden, you din't!
Excuse me, but this is exactly what this match deserves. He's pointing his imaginary bat at both Arnold and the Mobster. OH! They both nail him with a spike powerbomb. The ref is calling this one off, despite the fact that StreetMime isn't exactly interfering.
Er...ladies and gentlemen, this match has been declared a no-contest?! Why wasn't my cue-card updated?! You guys have to tell me if there's last-minute decisions like this! Come on! I may just be Announcer Lad but I deserve some respect too!
Nice one, Angus, tick off the Lad while you're at it.
Um...okay, folks, now that two matches are out of the way, we're heading over to the "Very Big Tag Match Indeed!" Announcer Lad, do your thing!
No. I'm not gonna.
I'm sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?
It's not good enough. I'm sitting out this announce in protest. Fire me, I don't care. You're just lucky I'm not going to grab a chair and sit in the ring.
I guess we should thank goodness for small miracles. Okay. Jamal, get in the ring and announce.
You do and so help me, Jamal.
The Lad's pretty built, V.
Fine. Forget it. Let's just bring on the five teams WITHOUT introduction.
(time passes. The ring slowly fills up. The pyro guys come to clean the water from the leaking roof again and the wrestlers eventually all enter.)
***bell rings.
Does anyone know the rules of this match?
I don't. Two at a time? Five at a time? Don't ask me. I'm guessing whoever bribes the ref the most will get the win.
Does that mean da Chosen Ones are a lock?
I thought the Techies had more money. Anyway, there's Napalm of Chemical Warfare and the immense Implosion of SHC. Implosion puts a big boot upside Napalm's gas mask. Napalm charges, but Implosion sidesteps it and Napalm crashes into Bait.
So, wait, Bait was inside the ring at the time? I missed it.
Don't make this difficult. You know how hard it is to call a match like this? Dizzy Desi of the Circus Freaks gives Jeffrey Steingold a corkscrew neckbreaker, in yet another of his innovative moves. Switch is in. He trips Scythe of Spontaneous Human Combustion. Grampa looks irate! There's the massive Sasquatch. He goes for a top-rope legdrop and believe me, he's bound to hit SOMETHING! It's Agent Orange, who's hacking up a lung.
I know a good nose and throat man. Maybe I could give "Charlie" his number later.
But that screws Orange's gimmick!
Oh yeah, never thought of that. Maybe the Ambulance Jockeys might fix it permanently one day.
Whatever. It's a regular Pier-Fiver out here!
Don't you mean Pier-Sixer?
Pier Six is still under construction from the damage done by the Bully and Pee Wee RRRico. They had to move the metaphorical site for all brawls. Agent Orange is giving Bait the Acid Rain! Switch pulls out an iMac from under the ring and nails him with it to stop the carnage!
iMac? Good use for it; 'cause it ain't doin' much else.
Absolutely. When will people learn that Microsoft is the best way because it's so popular?
(long silence)
Are you trying to build heel heat or something?
Dizzy-D trying to pin Irving Goldstein for our first pin of the night: 1...2...no! So close. And Napalm pins Scythe: 1...kickout. Oh well, looks like we'll have to keep going for a bit more. Implosion gives Sasquatch a piledriver! The crowd is on the edge of its seat! Switch is setting up Jeffrey Steingold for his infamous move, the Millennium Crash!
Wonder what'n he gonna call it after next year, yo.
You're making the assumption that we'll all still have energy to power our computers and go to the Internet to find out.
Ouch. That's putting the message home.
Creepier than "the Stand", because we'll all still be here. I know. And there it is! The Millennium Crash! The cover: 1...2...the other Chosen One makes the save.
Someone's comin' down da ramp!
Two someones! It's Milwaukee's Best! Obviously angered that they were snubbed from the Very Big Tag Match Indeed. And even though it's still one more team, the match is being ruled a "quintuple disqualification".
Wonder how many times THAT'S happened in history.
I'll go ask some of the guys from the wackier feds. They're bound to know. We're not exactly cutting new ground in the STWF.
How can you say that? Where else could...and...hmmm. I guess you're right. Sorry.
Okay, so who's got next?
I suppose we'll just get the last tag match out of the way. It's Tyrone Mayhem and the Pencil-Necked Geek as they take on the Ambulance Jockeys. I wonder if Announcer Lad is over his hissy fit.
Yeah, I suppose. You've learned your lesson. *AHEM!* This tag team contest is set for one fall. The first team, representing Club Med and accompanied by Nurse Heidi, Intern Man and El Chief of Staff, with a combined weight of 475 lbs., here are THE AMBULANCE JOCKEYS!
(The theme from ER plays as the Jockeys go to ringside. A small number of boos and an equally small number of cheers.)
You have to wonder if their allegiance with Dr. Snare is going to change their ring politics.
From what to what?
Um...yeah! That too!
You're starting to sound like those Head Trauma Boys.
And their opponents, representing parts of the Inner Circle and the Tri-Lambda Group. If you thought that Sir Hungalot and the Violent Pacifist were unlikely, if you thought Bohemoth and Bill Murtough were unlikely, meet the unlikeliest of all! With a combined weight of 315 lbs. *snicker*, here are THE PENCIL-NECKED GEEK AND TYRONE MAYHEM!
(No theme. Vic the Sound Guy is NOT taking sides. Huge pop for the two stars. No matter what, somebody's cheering for one of them.)
***bell rings.
It's going to be the Pencil-Necked Geek and Garry Greene to start matters tonight. Garry with a double-leg takedown. He turns it over into a Boston Crab right away.
A little ambitious, this Garry Greene.
I'll say. The Geek reaches the ropes. He gets up. He whips Garry to the buckle, reversal, Geek grabs the top buckle and leaps up. Garry manages to catch the Geek before his feet touch the ground. Oh, and the Geek with a nice takedown that looked like Garry was making a devastating maneuver until the last second.
I've seen dose before. Ya know, in Mexican matches `n' such. What's it called, Cap?
Hey, if Vince can't call it right, don't expect me to correct him ALL the time. Does it say "Mike Tenay" stamped across my forehead?
No need to be bitter. The Geek with a legdrop for all the good THAT did.
He's pretty bony. It might hurt more than muscle.
Good point. Geek picks up Garry and tags in Mayhem. Double dropkick by the Geek and Mayhem. Garry falls on his forearms to absorb the blow.
Looks like they readin' up.
They're certainly doing their homework. Garry tags in Barry. And now the fun begins.
It does? Oh coo'! Yo, check it. I can shape dis balloon inta a gun! (pulls out a long balloon and starts fiddling with it.)
Give me that! Idiot. (pauses, then starts fiddling with it himself)
Oh, the pain of the straight man. Thank goodness I get paid 50% more than either of you. Mayhem with a series of kicks. Barry puts some right back. Mayhem whips around Barry and puts on a belly-to-back suplex. Barry is up. Oh, look at this, a fisherman's suplex! 1...kickout.
That was close.
Yeah, almost got a two-count.
I'm really starting to wonder if Col. Khorne and Gary Gourmando are available for colour commentary.
We'll be good.
Mayhem tries a kick. Barry grabs the leg and pushes Tyrone down. Hooks the leg: 1...2...no. Tyrone with some chops. He bounces off the ropes. Oh, but Intern Man just tripped Ty! The Geek is moving to the ringfloor to settle the score with Club Med.
That might be a mistake. Tyrone might want a tag soon.
Tyrone seems to be holding his own rather well. The ref has gone to check things out at ringside. The Gurney has entered the ring and they nail Mayhem with a double clothesline. The Pencil-Necked Geek just rammed Intern Man through the ringsteps, and El Chief of Staff is using Heidi as a shield! El Presidente never changes, does he?
Ty's takin' a beatdown! Come on, Geek, getcho' butt in dere.
The Geek just tossed something to Tyrone. Looks like a small metal bar. Tyrone shrugs. The Geek is making a button-pressing motion.
The small metal bar just turned into a crobar, and the odds just got evened. Tyrone looks like he was born with that crobar in his hand.
He's smackin' 'em both a good one wit' dat diamond-tipped titanium crobar.
How do you know its material structure?
Well, ain't it obvious?
I swear, next week it's Col. Khorne in the booth. I just can't take much more of this. Tyrone gives one final swat to Barry and there's a Smackdown! The crobar collapses just as the ref turns around. 1....2....3!
Here are your winners, TYRONE MAYHEM AND THE PENCIL-NECKED GEEK!
And please, Ty, keep the crobar as my gift from PNG Industries.
Tyrone Mayhem: Uh...thanks, yo.
Alright! It looks like it's time for our first title defense because now we're running up against Oliver Copp's Smoky Championship Wrestling. And if you even think of changing the channel, don't, because we just got word that their heavyweight belt will change hands after a 23-second non-screwjob match, with the finisher being a "duck-down move". Oh yeah, THAT'S going to make you want to watch.
Shut up! Do you want us to get killed in the ratings again?!
Sorry, it's just the producers are telling me to say it.
We don't HAVE producers. These headsets are props!
While I go see if my future in the STWF is over, let's go to our match between challenger douja and champion Très Sheik!
This contest is set for one fall, and is for the Intercontinental Cruiserweight "This Is Not A Championship Belt But It's Close" belt. Making his way to the ring first, from Parts Forgotten and weighing in at 245 lbs., douja!
("Roll it Up, Light it Up, Smoke it Up" by Cypress Hill plays. douja runs to the ring with blunt in hand, nearly tripping over his own feet halfway down the aisle.)
Oh boy, the Sheik might have an easier time than anticipated.
And his opponent, the champion, from Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates, and representing the Rogue's Gallery, TRÈS SHEIK!
("Supermodel" on a sitar and tabla. Trash is being thrown from about six different directions. The Sheik deftly avoids them all. The security guard minding his own business gets a soda can upside the head and is knocked senseless.)
***bell rings.
Sheik and douja lock up. Sheik with a side headlock and he's throwing some punches. The ref's warning him about the closed fists, but why should Sheik care if he keeps the belt upon disqualification?
Because the Sheik is inherently honourable?
*snicker*
The Sheik puts douja to the turnbuckle. He sets up douja on the top rope. Monkey flip by Très Sheik. And now he follows douja down with a falling elbowdrop.
Sheik sure knows his stuff tonight.
Absolutely. The cover: 1...2...no! douja kicks out. douja is up. He lands a kick squarely in the Exorbitant Arab's breadbasket. And a spinning heel kick to the temple.
And we've got a two-sided fight on our hands now!
douja whips the Sheik to the ropes. He sets up for a backbody drop. The Sheik drops to his knees and tries a slap. douja grabs the hand and moves into an armbar!
Do you think douja was playing possum?
Doubtful, but he's sure got a moment of clarity. The Sheik now, European uppercut. Military press by Très Sheik. The cover: 1...2...no. He pulls up douja and tries a hit. douja blocks and takes the Sheik down with a headbutt. Elbowdrop. Now he flails his arms around wildly. He bounces off the rope, off the other rope. He pauses directly over the Sheik.
Yeah? And?
He didn't follow it up! What's going through douja's head right now?
I can take a guess or two.
OH! And there's another elbowdrop. Unfortunately, the Sheik had rolled away about ten seconds beforehand. douja's reflexes might be a tad slow. Here comes the Sheik, he barrels forward and smacks douja with a shoulder. douja rolls backward and stands right up. Belly-to-belly suplex by douja! And now a chinlock.
Chinlock? How much time did Der Kommissaar book for the Large Dome again?
Yeah, I'm gettin' hungry.
You can wait. douja releases the hold and makes a cover. 1...2...no! douja goes to remove the turnbuckle cover. He's having a hell of a time. The Gallery-ite rolls him up, and 1...2...so close. douja kicks Très Sheik in the face and continues to remove the cover. It's off! He whips the Sheik to the exposed bolt. Reversal! douja reverses it back! The Sheik hits the bolt! His nose is busted open. douja makes the signal...It's time for the Chronic Neck Pain! And there it is!
douja gonna win the belt agin?
Who would have guessed?
The audience counts with the ref:
Audience: EINS! ZWEI! ....... DREI! (cheers)
Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, and NEEEEEEEW Intercontinental Cruiserweight "This Is Not A Championship Belt But It's Close" belt champion, douja!
douja grabs the ICCTINACBBIC belt. He sees the Sheik's name on it and tries to scrub it off. Well, I'm sure the proper adjustments will be made eventually.
Well, wow. What else could possibly happen tonight?
A North American title change? It could happen right now! It's up next. And stay tuned folks, an Intergalactic championship bout is our main event. So take THAT, OCSCW!
This is a contest for the North American Championship, and is set for one fall, making his way first, accompanied by Dr. Plants, Necro Phil and Kandi Stryper; from Jackson Tennessee and weighing 275 lbs., DOCTOR SNARE!
("Paranoid" by Black Sabbath plays. Methinks the Doctor needs a new theme? Good-sized pop for the fast-rising superstar.)
And his opponent, the champion, from Seattle, Washington, weighing in at 330 lbs., THE VIOLENT PACIFIST!
("Closer" by Nine Inch Nails plays. Appropriate bleeps from the Seven-Second Tape Delay Guys. Loud pop for the Pacifist.)
***bell rings.
Alright! Let's get it on and get this decided! But first, here's some commercials.
No! Don't go to commercial n...
Like BLOOD?
I mean, REALLY like it?
No, I don't mean vampirism, stupid. I mean like watching people juice? Yeah, I'll bet you do.
It's coming, around Valentine's Day, because if you're watching wrestling at that time you're obviously not in love, or your heart's been broken.
HEART-BREAKING HELL. Blood will flow like so much Gatorade (or, if you will, Pipsa© and Marq's Root Beer).
Watch it. Live it. HEART-BREAKING HELL.
Welcome to the Albatross Brothers Game Center. I'm Announcer Lad, here with gamesmaster Willy Albatross. How are you doing?
Willy: Outstanding. Outstanding!
This is Super Chess 2100. More levels, pieces with a wider range of ability, and totally new rules that make it more challenging and exciting than ever! Let's take you now as the Head Trauma Boys play Super Chess 2100.
(Cut to a cheap-looking set. The complicated Super Chess 2100 sits on a table, while Flatline and Coma are sitting there looking perplexed. Coma is picking his teeth with the miter of the new piece, the Pope.)
Flatline: Uhhhh....I....this elephant...here...is quite...Scrabble...for my poached eggs....Uhhhh...and Uhhhhh.... orphanage...something....Uhhhh...is a good source of Vitamin C.
Coma: (the Pope piece stuck in his throat) GAhhhh! Gahhh! Muhhaaaaaack!
(Cut back to the Game Center)
Willy: Outstanding. Outstanding!
Join us next week as Vyrus and the Aboriginals play Mah Jongg Plus.
Is it just me, or do these commercials get dumber every week?
Iss just you.
Well, our tape machines were rolling and Dr. Snare was in control of most of this match. You should have SEEN the outside-the-ring action. I've never seen a bag of potpourri used so effectively. Can we get a replay of that, Chet? No? Okay, I guess you fans at home miss out.
Now there's a shocker.
The Violent Pacifist making a comeback. Vertical suplex coming your way. The Pacifist has a good-sized weight advantage, but his Squad is nowhere to be seen!
I don' think dose guys are EVA comin' back.
The VP with a sleeperhold. Snare looks lke he's falling away...drifting off...the ref lifts the arm once....twice...Snare is still in this. Meanwhile, Necro Phil is chatting up Kandi Stryper.
Yeah, HE'S got a shot. Maybe he could talk to Dr. Plants about fixing his sunken eyes.
Dr. Snare puts on a sleeperhold of his own. The Pacifist gets out with a jawbreaker. Both men are exiting the ring once more.
Oh come on, potpourri bag! COME ON!
I'd like to see that one again, myself.
As would I. But I don't know if history can repeat itself again. Kandi Stryper hands off the bag to Dr. Snare! Here it comes! But wait, the VP grabs the bag and throws it into the crowd.
Audience: Awwwwwww.
They're not too happy either. I suppose it was never meant to be.
That first attack was as awesome as the Canadian Service Charge was nasty.
Necro Phil comes up behind the Pacifist. He's got a bottle of fermaldehyde! Right in the VP's face. The Pacifist is blinded!
Is he gonna get embalmed tanite?
Naw, the fans would never buy it. Snare rolls the Pacifist into the ring. Are we going to see the Snare Slam? YES!
Could we possibly crown two new champs in a row?
The cover is made: 1...2...NO! REVERSAL!
The Pacifist covers 1...2...ROLLED BACK OVER!
1....2...3!
Here is your winner, and NEEEEW North American Champion, DOCTOR SNARE!
Shortly after forming, Club Med already holds a championship. Can you believe it?
Sure. It's called "preliminary push".
I'm going to have to leave that alone. Here come the rest of Club Med to celebrate, and man they're a pretty large group, aren't they? They go off to the locker room, and we've got just two matches to go. First up is the much-anticipated triangle match between B.F. Sack, Gary "the Glutton" Gourmando, and Sergeant Genocide.
As you will recall, this match was originally supposed to have Gary, Mr. Sack, and Col. "Pops" Khorne, because all three men had four eliminations in the Brawl and deserved contendership. but after Sergeant Genocide defeated the Colonel, he was subsequently signed to the Rogue's Gallery and he received Khorne's position in this match, despite his slightly worse performance.
And that's quite enough exposition.
This contest is set for two eliminations with three people. Entering first, from Juliard, France, and the heaviest wrestler on the STWF roster at 650 lbs., GARY "THE GLUTTON" GOURMANDO!
("Food, Glorious Food" is played as Gary enters with a drumstick in one hand and a Drumstick in the other. Mostly boos.)
Next, representing the Rogue's Gallery, from Kiev, Ukraine, weighing 340 lbs., SERGEANT GENOCIDE!
("Extermination Blues" by Robin Trower plays. Sergeant Genocide marches to the ring. The Rogue is directly in front of him, making airplane motions like he was a cool guy or something.)
And our final competitor, from Panama City, Florida...
(crowd cheers)
Hold on! Weighing 282 lbs., and accompanied by Grady (for some unknown reason)...here he is, former two-time STWF Heavyweight Champion... B.F. SACK!
(The theme to "Sanford and Son" plays. Pause for effect. The Kamera Kid is poised at the entranceway, quivering. Sack finally emerges to a huge pop.)
Listen to that response! Totally uncharacteristic of an STWF audience!
***bell rings.
All three men are going at it. Sergeant Genocide methodical in his attack on Gary Gourmando. Kicks timed like clockwork.
If y'all axe me, and nobody does, I'd say that's predictable.
That's a pretty good insight. I had no idea you were capable of that.
Absolutely. (makes a motion to the Captain, who smacks Jamal upside the head)
Ow! Whatcha do THAT for?
Earlier today. Remember? Arnold is Pedro Chang? B.F. Sack joining in the attack on the heavy-set gent. Gary is on his feet. Double clothesline! He's going to splash B.F. Sack! Sack brings up the knees. Gary is in trouble.
So what else is new?
Sgt. Genocide gives Gary the beating of a lifetime. Kicks, punches, stomps. Sack is letting him have his fun. He exits the ring and starts tousling the Rogue's hair.
That ain't smart.
He could bring on the wrath of the whole Gallery!
Genocide with a shoulderbreaker. And now...the Extermination! 1...2...3! We're down to two men. Da only two dat could have a shot.
Sack rolls back in the ring. Russian legsweep by Sack. Sergeant Genocide is up, and so is Sack. He whips Sack to the ropes, bounces off of them himself...mid-ring collision. Both men are down. The ref is starting a double count-out: 1....2....3....4....5....
What an idiotic way to end a contendership match.
Sorry. I'm not going to try my hand at booking again. 7...8...Sack is up. He pulls up Genocide and...dropkicks him right back down. 1...2...the Rogue just put Genocide's foot on the ropes. The Sarge is up. DDT by Genocide. The cover: 1...2...Sack puts his foot on the rope.
Get away from da ropes!
I know, rope breaks are just as annoying for you as they are for me. Sergeant Genocide has Sack in an abdominal stretch. The ref is checking for submission...no. The Sergeant grabs the top rope. Sack grimaces in pain. The ref goes to check but finds no rope-grabbing. Genocide does it again. Sack lets out a small yelp of pain. The ref checks...he sees nothing out of the ordinary. The big Ukranian tries a third time.
B.F. Sack: Isn't it obvious he's grabbing the ropes by now? ARGH!
The ref orders Sgt. Genocide to break the hold. Genocide drops Sack unceremoniously. Sack with a sunset flip: 1...2...no. Both men are up. Another whip to the ropes. Sack with a forearm shiver. He puts on a Northern Lights suplex!
Ah, those were the days, weren't they? When that move was popular?
And now...the Domino Effect! I think the Sarge is starting to lose consciousness. The Rogue jumps on the apron with a chair. He looks ready to interfere.
Oh man! Da Red Snapper is comin' in!
Vince, are you SURE you didn't have a hand in this?
Honest, no. The Red Snapper pulls the Rogue down. The Rogue holds a hand on the Snapper's face. The anthropomorphic lobster is swinging violently but missing by a mile. The Domino Effect has taken its toll. The ref is stopping the match!
Here is your winner, as a result of a submission, B.F. SACK!
Sack: Now, Snapper. Wassup? Not that I don't appreciate it, but wassup?
I'll tell you wassup. You said we all had to band together and fight this Gallery, so here I am. And I'm going to start at one of the most powerful members. Sergeant Genocide. Rogue, I challenge your fallen soldier in that ring. TO A RETIREMENT MATCH!
Sack: Are you sure about this? Maybe you haven't thought this through.
He knows what he's doing. You're on, lobster boy. I'll make sure you'll get a completely unfair retirement package. I can do that, being an executive. Ha-LA!
Red Snapper: Whatever. Just hope you can get Genocide some food. He can't line up for it for three hours anymore.
How totally odd. Sack calls for people to band together, and he gets...the Red Snapper? And apparently not for long.
That's right. Next Monday, it very well could be goodbye for the Red Snapper. Or maybe for Sergeant Genocide?!
But now, it's da Intagalactic Championship match.
Could Homicidal Hank pull the Tiger off from his pedestal? Or is the current champ going to beat the 19:50?
This contest is for the Intergalactic Championship, and is set for one fall. Making his way to the ring first, the challenger, accompanied by Spike and representing the Asylum Alliance, weighing 257 lbs., HOMICIDAL HANK!
("I'm Going Slightly Mad" by Queen plays as Hank comes out. He holds the potted Spike above his head and shakes it violently a few times. Dirt flies all over, and settles mostly on Hank. Large pop.)
And his opponent, the Intergalactic Champion, from Richmond, Virginia, representing the Inner Circle and weighing 253 lbs., THE TIGER!
("Intergalactic" by the Beastie Boys plays. Huge pop for the superstar as he enters wearing the IC logo-decorated belt. Apparently, he wasn't impressed with the good-looking stars-and-planets design.)
He doesn't seem to mind that his theme song has changed for his championship reign.
Neva did like Survivor anyway.
Hank nails the Tiger with Spike just before the...
***bell rings.
Hank continuing the onslaught. Reverse DDT by Hank. He is a house of cards!
Huh?
He means a "house on fire".
Huh?
Never mind.
Huh? ... OW! Quit slappin' my head!
Hank with a flying buttdrop. The cover: 1...2...no. The Tiger is up and he puts Hank to the buckle. Superplex coming your way!
Ah! It's outside the r..
*CRASH*
I told you it was coming your way, Jamal. Next time, listen. Meanwhile, let's go kick out the Spanish announcers. We need their table.
Good idea.
The Tiger introduces Hank to the ringpost! And now he picks up the ringbell! Hank takes it in the back of the head.
*CRUNK!*
When did we get the Mentally Challenged Wrestling's bell?
Hank and the Tiger are fighting up the ramp. They're heading into the backstage area. Hank is strangling the Tiger with a cable. The ref is counting 1...2...3...4... Hank lets go. The Tiger slams Hank into a ladder! This is brutal!
I'm coo' widdis as long as it ain't headed fo' da boilaroom.
Or the bathroom.
Yeah, I'll agree with you on that one. Hank and the Tiger are fighting over the aluminum ladder! Hank has it and hits the Tiger with it! That's pure aluminum, folks. And look, the ladder deformed under the sheer impact, in much the same way an empty soda can would if you squeezed it.
The sheer impact!
The Tiger Irish-whips Hank into the chain-link fence on wheels! What it's doing there I have no idea, but what a great effect!
Yeah! Wow!
Hank grabs a broom from offscreen and pokes the Tiger in the gut with it! The pre-cut broom snaps in half despite the fact it wasn't swung!
Can this possibly get more hardcore?!
The Tiger hiptosses Hank onto that pile of metal poles. The pile collapses and these metal poles are spilling all over the floor. But wait! The Tiger isn't done! He's repeatedly beating on Hank with a foam finger!
It's a ThatGuy foam finger with a "bite here" dotted line! Coo'!
I can't believe the carnage that we're seeing here tonight, folks. It's completely insane! It's STWF at its finest! It's...
***bell rings.
Ladies and gentlemen, the result of this contest is a DOUBLE COUNT-OUT! We never said it was falls count anywhere.
The Tiger and Hank are outraged! Then they just shrug it off and walk back to the locker room.
Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.
You're right about that. Okay, folks, see you at Friday Friday Friday. You can pick up the schedules outside, you in the audience. But for Jamal Tupac Mustafa and Captain Twilight, this is Angus "Vince" McMadden, hoping you enjoyed our Golden Anniversary, saying, keep your pants off!
©1999 Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre