Monday Nae Trous
Monday Nae Trous - High in Fibre, Low in Fat

(Pan Interior of the Slobberknocker Arena. Joy of joys, there is now a fat black guy in front of a turntable, laughingly calling himself a DJ. He's got a bunch of propaganda signs around him, and is constantly telling the fans to "make some noise".)
Welcome to another exciting installment of Monday Nae Trous! I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden, along of course with Captain Twilight and Jamal Tupac Mustafa. And now, I'd like to introduce DJ Fled, yet another member of our STWF family, and hopefully he won't drag our ratings down too much.
(a little noise is made. So little, in fact, it's barely audible)

Okay, thanks Fled!
You know, piggybacking ideas is not always a GOOD thing.
But Cap'n T, iss the basis of any rasslin' fed!
Can't the STWF be innovators for once?
We're plenty innovative. But this is off topic - we've got wrestling to cover! And first, a double debut match - "Violent" Beauregard against Four. Now I've met Beauregard, and he's quite...uh, charming. As for Four, what do you know about him, Cap?
I know his name has four letters. And he's not much else.
Fantastic. Has he said ANYTHING yet?
No, he's not supposed to. But since everyone in the STWF must, he did make some pre-recorded comments, right here:

Four: My name is Four. And don't you Four-get it. Okay, that's it, I'm done.

This contest is set for one fall, thankfully. Introducing first, from Akron, Ohio, and weighing in at 245 lbs. (that's 244 and 4/4), he is Four!
("History Repeating" by the Propellerheads plays. Four enters. He has no top on, and a pair of black pants with a nondescript pattern. Nothing you haven't seen from Edge, Test, Meat or Droz.)
His opponent, from Cambridge, England and weighing in at 345 lbs., he is "Violent" Beauregard!
("Oompa Loompa Doopity Doo" by Willy Wonka (oh, just see the damn movie) plays. Beauregard, an obese man with a tight-fitting schoolboy's uniform and a tiny cowboy hat enters to boos. He has some trouble removing the hat from his head, but eventually does with a small ripping sound.)

***bell rings.
Y'know, Cap, y'all could'a told us what was up widdis Beauregard fella.
And ruin the surprise?
Four starts off with a jumping kick to the midsection. A few forearms to the head, and this match is off to a horrendously boring start.
Quite a snoozer indeed.
Beauregard with a headbutt, and he's pleased with the results. I really think that the chewing of gum by "Violent" Beauregard is quite obnoxious, don't you?
Yeh. Come on, turn blue, man, turn blue! Well, you already round, but jus' turn blue.
Beauregard trying to get a full nelson on, but his uniform just doesn't give him the full range of arm movement.
It's a terrible choice of costume, Vince. You need something that gives you the movement you need. And when you're as dumpy as "Violent" Beauregard, well, you're pretty much better off in a bedsheet or something.
Beauregard with some punches to Four's head. Four puts on an abdominal stretch. And that armpit of the schoolboy's uniform is busting at the seams. Four lets go, and there's a short clothesline! Beauregard goes down like a ton of bricks.
Thass pretty fittin'.
Four makes the cover: 1...2...3! And it looks like Four is your winner.
"Violent" Beauregard: That's not fair! I wasn't ready! I demand a reversed decision. And I want it right now!
The ref is ignoring the plea.
Beauregard: I shall hold my breath!
Yeh! He turnin' blue! A'ight!
Four: Oh for Pete's sake, just give him the match, I don't care. Baby.
Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has reversed the decision, and the winner of this contest is "VIOLENT" BEAUREGARD!
Well, the large British ... schoolboy? Well, whatever he is, his childish tactics have given him a debut win.
Spare the rod and spoil the child, that's what I say.
Typical old guy, Captain. Typical old guy. And right now, we're going to see some great six-man tag action. It's the Pencil-Necked Geek and the Techie Salesmen from Hell against Très Sheik and the Chosen Ones. This contest is scheduled for one fall. Entering now, representing the Mid-East Alliance, with a combined weight somewhere just under 500 lbs., here are Irving Goldstein, Jeffrey Steingold and Très Sheik!
("Hava Nagila" plays, much to the confusion of Très Sheik, who just shrugs and wonders silently why his image is being used as an example in the "Create a Wrestler" previews for the Attitude game. He really is!)
And their opponents, representing the Tri-Lambda Group and accompanied by Edwina, with a combined weight somewhere just over 500 lbs., here are Bait, Switch, and the Pencil-Necked Geek!
(The Beer Barrel Polka plays. The Geek is wearing a black shirt with a tiny "no." inside a thin white square, and of course his suspenders on top of it.)

Why is the Pencil-Necked Geek wearing an old T-shirt from the Square? He must be one real nostalgia buff.
Remember that the Square and the Techie Salesmen were contemporaries. That could have something to do with it.
***bell rings.
It's Jeffrey Steingold and Switch to front this confrontation. Switch extends the "hand of friendship".
Crowd: NO! DON'T DO IT!
Edwina: SHUT UP!

One would think after all these years they could come up with a better back-and-forth for the hand of friendship bit.
Jeffrey goes for the hand. Switch grabs the hand in both of his and thrusts it right into a low blow! He giggles and pushes his spectacles up his nose.
Whatchoo expect? He from Hell.
Good point - I guess you just can't trust a minor demon. Switch now slingshots Steingold into the Tri-Lambda corner. Irving Goldstein comes in to help, but the ref drives him back. Now the ref is asking for car-buying advice from Irving.
Hey, Goldstein knows a lot about cars. He knows the tricks of the trade.
Hooked me up with my "b<-BLEEP->ch magnet".
And how many of those have you attracted so far, Jamal?
A gennelman neva tells.
Meaning none, because he's no gentleman.
People, please! Jeffrey Steingold being teamed on. The ref turns around and breaks it up. The Pencil-Necked Geek is tagged in. He puts on a German suplex. Bounces off the ropes...tripped by Sheik! There's a heated exchange of words's escalated into a shoving match! And Irving Goldstein makes the tag. Some double teaming efforts by the Chosen Ones. There's a double leg snap!
Make a wish! Hey, and there's another one that needs some updating.
Don't I know it. Our lines are about as stale as the "Violent Vinnie Mansbridge" running gag.
Violent Vinnie Mansbridge: If only I had roleplayed once, instead of asking to be put in the audience until further notice.
Yeah? Well that's your problem, bucko! Okay, Irving has the Geek in a pinning position: close. Goldstein with a tag to Sheik, and this crowd is finally into it. Another double leg-snap by Sheik and Goldstein.
Make a wish!
The Geek is begging off right now. Why is the Sheik buying it? He used to be a member of the Gallery, he should know this ruse by now. Sheik with a baseball slide. The Geek adjusts his spectacles. He's up, and a few kicks by the PNG. Irish whip against the ropes...Edwina's got a laptop! And by the sound of that smack, it's gotta be a Pentium III!
Yeh, kinda hollow.
Not even the sequined turban or the glitter Nehru jacket could help absorb the blow from that. The Exorbitant Arab goes down. The Pencil-Necked Geek turns him over...and whoa! He gets a faceful of "Eau de Camelle", that odoriferous perfume!
The Geek is blinded! All those water droplets on his glasses...
The ref's calling this one out.
Ladies and gentlemen, the official decision is a DOUBLE DISQUALIFICATION! What, you thought he didn't see the hit with the laptop? You think he's blind or something?
The staff here at the Stereo Type Wrestling Federation never cease to amaze me, Captain.
What about me? You neva make dose obsavations ta me!
Okay...the STWF staff never cease to amaze me, Jamal.
Shut up, you t'ink I care about yo' obsavations?
If I wasn't sitting next to you, I'd...
This next contest is for the STWF/MBC/RDWA "3-4-1" belts, and is set for one fall. First, the CHAMPIONS, from Parts Unknown and Probably Forgotten, accompanied by Dr. Zigmund Fraud, here are Flatline and Coma...THE HEAD TRAUMA BOYS!
(A Ramones medley plays. The HTBs half-run, half-shamble to the ring. They start doing some suicidal maneuvers at nothing in particular.)
And their opponents...from Pizzicatto, Florida...(Announcer Lad is handed a card) Ladies and gentlemen, there's been a change of plans. The Reno Brothers are no longer in the STWF and consequently a replacement team will be needed. But where will we find such a team?

Pencil-Necked Geek: I believe I have such a team.
But the Techie Salesmen already wrestled this card!
Oh, it's not my Techies. I have a team that will destroy those concussion-ridden youngsters. Edwina? Bring it out.
Here comes Edwina, what's she bringing out? Oh can't is!
It's a ramp! And that can only mean one thing.
Boy, you announcers are quick. Yes...I've brought back and re-united one of the most fearsome teams ever assembled. It's my pleasure to give you El Spheros and the Square...THE IMMORTAL SHAPES! Ooh, I'm so brilliant it's scary.
The Square skulking out of the locker room and reaches his position at ringside without a word. The Geek is pointing; and here's El Spheros, the spherical luchador, rolling down the aisle at breakneck speed. He's up the ramp, and into the ring!
We'd like to remind those of you who haven't seen El Spheros in action before, that due to his unusual body shape he can't enter the ring by conventional means, thus the ramp.
Da Head Trauma Boys defendin' agin' da Immortal Shapes first cain't be good.
You're telling me. El Spheros held the Heavyweight Belt for ages, and the Square's held it twice. And now they're a tag team once again (after splitting up so long ago).
***bell rings.
The Square will begin things. And it's Coma also in the ring. Coma with a standing dropkick. The Square no-sells it like a pro. The Square puts Coma in a bearhug, and it's a reverse atomic drop now. Square with a Lou Thesz press. And now those ultra-slow kicks that the Square was known for.
Not a very flamboyant individual, is he?
Dat's da point! He a square!
Jamal's right; you should have figured that out. Square with a belly-to-back suplex, nice move by the Square. Coma tags in Flatline, the more competent individual of the twosome. Flatline with a high crossbody, catching the Square off guard: 1...2..."no", the Square says as he kicks out. Some of the older fans pop at the Square's catchphrase being uttered. The Square ready to tag El Spheros, but is pulled back. Spinning heel kick by Flatline. The Square goes down again. 1...2..."no". The Square whips Flatline away so he can make the tag to El Spheros.
El Spheros: ¡VIVA!
Flatline is begging off. El Spheros with cartwheeling punches and kicks. Heck, I can't tell which is which, the man's a whirling dervish out there.

Absolutely. At 5'5" in any direction, he takes up quite a bit of space. Flatline on the receiving end of a bow-and-arrow submission - well, sort of, he's just placed along the curvature of El Spheros' body - Flatline rolls back and reaches the ropes. Flatline takes a big headbutt.
That was a headbutt? Looked like a kick.
O' a belly-bounce.
Whatever! El Spheros is up comes his most devastating maneuver!
The Super Super Spheros Spinning Splash! If you thought a 450 splash was impressive, try to count the number of full rotations he gets!
Oh man, Flatline is a pancake. 1...2...3! The Head Trauma Boys weren't expecting a match against athletes of this caliber at all.
Here are your winners, and NEEEEEW "3-4-1" tag team champions, THE IMMORTAL SHAPES!
Wow. What a match! What can top that? Nothing!
Well, we need a fourth match. But first, we have a problem here in the STWF. A vacant ICCTINACBBIC title and no way to figure out how to get a holder for it. Well, we've just received word that there WILL be a decision made! Here's Announcer Lad to tell you the official word.

(pre-recorded Announcer Lad. He looks sober here.)
Because there is a vacant spot for the Intercontinental Cruiserweight "This Is Not A Championship Belt But It's Close" belt, and we're too damn lazy to hold a tournament, we will be collecting all five contenders: Jeffrey Steingold, Lenny Baxter, Très Sheik, Percy the Peg-Leg Pirate and Flash "the Mastermind" Flanagan, and holding an ESSAY CONTEST. In 50-150 words (and yes, we will count), all five wrestlers will tell us why they think they deserve the ICCTINACBBIC belt. Failure of all five to provide an essay within a week will result in the championship of StreetMime. Who said winning a belt had to be athletic? That's the official word. Thank you.

Hey, why not. And now, the main event two-minute screwjob: Sergeant Genocide will defend his belt against B.F. Sack!
Entering first, from Panama City, Florida, representing the Hubcap Gang and accompanied by Flash "the Mastermind" Flanagan, here is B.F. SACK!
(The theme to Sanford and Son plays. Sack enters and does some flexing to the crowd's delight.)
His opponent, from Kiev, Ukraine, representing the Rogue's Gallery and accompanied by Col. "Pops" Khorne, here is the Intergalactic Champion, SERGEANT GENOCIDE!
("Intergalactic" plays, sounding more like a march. Both men come down the aisle and salute. Boos galore.)

***bell rings.
Sack leaps at Genocide and he's hammering away with his fists! I've never seen B.F. Sack so intense!
He wants that belt, and he wants it bad!
Sack with some kneedrops now. Genocide is faltering! I think we could have a new champion here tonight! Colonel Khorne is hunting under the ring for a suitable weapon. He pulls out a pantsless Ensign Ben Dover!
There's GOTTA be an explanation fo' dat.
Khorne jumps the ring, and he nails Sack with the Ensign.
How many military men do we need in this ring?
Flash Flanagan entering the fray. The ref has had enough of this.
This match, predictably, has ended in a DOUBLE DISQUALIFICATION! And Ben, I know the prankster who stole your pants and hid them under the ring. I'll tell you who it was for $20.
See? Perfectly logical.
Yeah, logical. For Jamal Tupac Mustafa and Captain Twilight, I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden saying, keep your pants off!
©1999 Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre