Welcome to Monday Nae Trous!

(A large pair of pants floats across the screen, then covered by a gigantic red circle with a line through it. The STWF logo appears)
En español donde sea disponible!
(Interior of the Copps Coliseum in Hamilton. No pyrotechnics this week, not even the sparklers and flare guns.)
Welcome once again to Monday Nae Trous! I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden, along with Jamal Tupac Mustafa, and WE'RE NOT WEARING PANTS!
Don't tell me they're making us say that again?
Hey, they sign our paychecks. We've got an action packed lineup today. BILL is once again in action as he takes on "Black" Jack Dealer, The Inevitables are back as they take on the Stonebreakers (of whom we haven't seen much lately), Tony Starks in action against Sugarplum Harry, and we see the debut of newcomer Très Sheik!
Say, I been lookin' around at some of the other rasslin' federations, and they got dancin' chicks! How come we ain't got no "girls Nae Trous"?
We can't even afford pyrotechnics except on rare occasions. What makes you think we can afford dancing girls?
Chicks mean mo' ratings mean mo' commercial money...MEAN MO' MONEY!
It all reeks of desperation to me. Besides, you shouldn't be referencing like that. Let's get to our first match!
This contest is scheduled for one fall. Making his way towards the ring, representing the Entertainment Industry, from Rama, Ontario, Canada, weighing 237 lbs., "Black" Jack Dealer!
(Lester Leary can be heard singing "Hit the Road, Jack". Rimshot accompanies Dealer, who is still wearing his casino uniform. Crowd boos.)
And his opponent, from Springfield, Illinois, the man who needs no introduction...BILL!
(The 1812 Overture plays. No pyrotechnics for BILL this week. Crowd gives a huge pop and chants the name of BILL.)
Man, BILL don't got no lasers o' nothin'! He just a regular rassler, like me!
Believe me, you're not regular, you're much worse.
I still don't see da point of hypin' this guy fo' weeks and then gettin' nuttin back!
If we didn't hype him, the audience wouldn't care about him. So there, quiet now, the match has started.
***bell rings.
Jack Dealer is taunting BILL. He didn't have a mic, but he said, "I've got an ace on the board...want insurance?", to which BILL simply raises his hand for the test-o'-strength. Jack Dealer grabs the hand, then boots the midsection. Jack Dealer with a dropkick. Goes to the middle rope for a kneedrop. Picks up BILL and applies a sleeper. BILL's hand is lifted...oh, it stays up on one! See, Jamal, BILL's better than you think! BILL with a sidewalk slam. BILL picks him up and another sidewalk slam. BILL picks him up again and...um...a sidewalk slam.
Some great wrestler. He probably got stuck on that part of the script.
Shut up! There's no script...(weak smile at camera)
Anyway, Jack Dealer whips BILL into the turnbuckle...he's going for his trademark 21 punches...(crowd counts out to 21, then cheers)
Ha ha! They cheerin' Jack Dealer after booin' him on entrance! Looks like yo' precious BILL is losin' his hype!
BILL with an armbar submission. Jack Dealer can't quite reach the ropes...Rimshot pushes the rope in closer, and Dealer takes a handful. The hold is broken. Rimshot throws in his drumstick, and Dealer smacks BILL over the head with it, and then once below the belt for good measure! The ref was completely distracted, admonishing Rimshot for the rope stunt. BILL with a small package and the ref's not there! 3...4...5... oh this is terrible. The ref turns around now:1...Dealer kicks out and he has Rimshot to thank. Jack Dealer with a powerbomb! Dealer to the top rope for a flying elbowdrop. The cover:1...2...3! Here is your winner, "Black" Jack Dealer!
Dealer mocking BILL, saying he should have taken the insurance. He pulls out that razor playing card out of his sleeve and blades BILL's face with it! BILL is going to be scarred for life! Who can stop this madness?
How about Michael Wackson? He's running to the ring right now. Brawl in progress!
I have noticed, however, that Michael Wackson has been spending a lot of time attacking the Entertainment Industry, but where is his Estonian model manager, Mad Onna?
Oh, I can field that one. Roll tape, Chet!
(Tape rolls of Sweet Candy Andy and Mad Onna in a vintage Cadillac.)
Sweet Candy Andy: Man, you even sweeter than Gratuitous Tina! I'm so glad you agreed to dump that Wackson and meet me. Let's go someplace quiet, and "talk business".
(The car drives off. The Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive" blares on the radio.)
Interesting footage. But I thought you were against Andy now that you left the Gallery.
I am. That's why I showed you the tape. Now Wackson can beat the tar out of Andy.
I'm surprised Mad Onna would even join scum like that. But then again as the song goes, "You can tell by the way he walks and talks, that he's a ladies' man, a business man."
Prob'ly 'cause she been underused in this federation.
Good point. Now to tag team action as the Inevitables take on the Stonebreakers.
This contest is scheduled for one fall. Making their way towards the ring, with a combined weight of 830 lbs., Hugo and Slick, the STONEBREAKERS!
(No music. Nothing special about these guys, except for Hugo's size. No pop, and a few shouts of "LOSERS".)
And their opponents, with a combined weight of 521 lbs., The Harbinger of Death and Gérard S. Therriault, The INEVITABLES!
("One Way or Another" by Blondie plays. Therriault enters and gets a small pop. The Harbinger, clad in his purple cape, enters to a bigger pop.)
***bell rings. This match is underway, and guest commentator is Mr. Clean of the Sanitation Crew. He'll be taking over Captain Twilight's font color while Cap's away.
Thanks, Angus, it's a pleasure to be here and steal a font color.
Hugo and Harbinger to start things off. The Harbinger with a top-wrist lock. Hugo pushes Harbinger away. Harbinger with a dropkick - Hugo to the ropes - back and running powerslam by Hugo! That'll take the wind out of you! 1...and Harbinger gets the shoulder up. I cain't believe he got up! Who would have thought?
We're ninety seconds into the match - of course he'll get up. Harbinger with an enzuigiri and Hugo goes down. Harbinger with a figure-four...
So while we waitin' fo' sumpin' ta happen, how's the Caretaker, Mr. Clean?
He's not bad; he's recovering nicely, and when he gets back the Stonebreakers are going to be beaten so badly...that, um...
Their grandkids'll feel it?
Yeah, that'll do. I mean look at these filthy morons - Hugo, the big dumb lug who couldn't hold the right end of a toothbrush, and Slick, the man covered in so much oil that he doesn't get wet in the shower! These people need a good solid cleaning, and boy, we're going to clean their clocks!
Harsh words from Mr. Clean. Hugo manages to grab the rope and tag Slick. Slick comes in and executes a snapmare. Harbinger replies by whipping him into his turnbuckle. Taxes strangling Slick with the tag rope!
I believe that's the second time since his debut that he can't breathe. Some people never learn...
The ref sees it and admonishes Taxes. Hugo meanwhile, goes to the top rope and executes a flying splash! OUCH! Taxes is livid! The slow count: 1..........2.......Taxes comes in and stops it. The ref yells at him again!
As much as I like the Inevitables, I think that Therriault isn't too experienced with tag matches...
You might be right. Slick with a sleeper. Harbinger slips out of the grip, Slick's too oily, it would appear, to apply a sleeper. Harbinger tries to make the tag, but Slick stops him cold.
Well, we'll see about this. (leaves the table)
Hey! Where you goin'?
Think. He hates the Stonebreakers, he's at the announcer's table during their match...
Double clothesline in the ring. Both men are down. Mr. Clean taking his chance with Hugo - Hugo off the apron now. Slick is up - he doesn't see his tag team partner. He's confused...Harbinger makes the tag! The crowd goes wild! Taxes is in the ring - swinging neckbreaker - he lands it! Now he's going to set up for his deadly new finishing maneuver, "the Canadian Service Charge!"
(extended fan shot. Fans are cheering, then all grimace and groan in sympathy pain)
What a grisly move! Things like that shouldn't be shown on television!
It wasn't.
Good thing, too. The cover:1...2...3. Nobody survives the Canadian Service Charge.
Here are your winners, the INEVITABLES! (Crowd cheers)
Mr. Clean still duking it out with Hugo. The security guards tell them to take it to the locker room as we prepare for our next match...after this break.

Don't forget to send in those flashes, folks. The Bash is four short weeks away. Matches already signed include...
El Spheros vs. DeRanged in a falls-count-anywhere-no-rules-pinfall-only-by-unconsciousness-match for the title.
Pedro Chang vs. the winner of next week's rumble in a barbed-wire-baseball-bat-ladder match for the ICCTINACBBIC belt.
The Circus Freaks vs. the Inevitables in a lightning match on the roof - details later.
Tony Starks vs. Mr. Rage in a barbed-wire-C4-extreme-death match.
Bohemoth vs. Distruct in an underground mine match.
The Forces of Justice vs. Bait & Switch in a cubicle chaos match. If the FoJ win, they will get to make title runs again.
If you're not in a match, make one up soon!

Tonight's episode of Monday Nae Trous has been brought to you by Oliver Russell.
Hello! I'm Oliver Russell. I buy stolen jewellery. I've been fencing ill-gotten goods for over twenty-five years. I pay CASH for your stolen diamonds, watches, and anything else you can get your grubby little mitts on. How do I do it? How do I make money? Through cash transactions, there's no paper trail. It's tax free income. I'm above the law. That's the only way you can make money in a capitalist society - so I make it work for me. So come on down and meet me, Oliver Russell. Make crime pay for you, too! Oh yeah!

We're back. Our next match is underway already...sorry about that. Tony Starks is in the ring with Sugarplum Harry, so let's join this match in progress. Sugarplum Harry pulls out that bag of dust and blows it in Starks' eyes! Tony Starks has been blinded! And there's the Nutcracker by Harry! Tony Starks submits! This one is over.
Here is your winner, Sugarplum HARRY!
That was almost too quick, almost as if...
Yes, there's DeRanged and Mr. Rage coming to ringside and double-teaming him. Mr. X flees.
It's getting a little predictable, isn't it?
That's what pro wrestling is all about...predictability...um...you audience members didn't hear that.
Our final match this evening pits Très Sheik against StreetMime. Both men are in the ring, let's watch.
*** bell rings.
StreetMime offers those imaginary flowers to the Sheik. Sheik pretends to swat them away, and kicks StreetMime in the midsection. Sheik with a bodyslam. Sheik with a legdrop and covers:1...2...kickout. StreetMime attempts a dropkick and misses. Sheik covers:1...2...no.
Pretty exciting stuff. Wouldn't you agree?
Give it time. Sheik with a body scissors. StreetMime grabs the ropes. Sheik and the Mime, both up now, Sheik with a clothesline, covers:1...2...kickout again.
Why does the Sheik cover after virtually every move?
I don't know. Probably just to flash his smile at the cameras while he pins. Sheik throws StreetMime out of the ring, and struts around in that glitter Nehru jacket.
Okay, now I'm confused. I thought that a Sheik was Arab.
Yes, and?
His sequined turban and Nehru jacket - those are references to India!
Remember, our target audience is Americans from the south. They equate Arabs with those from India. Only stupid rednecks would watch the STWF...um, you didn't hear that either, folks.
You really are slipping today, aren't you?
***bell rings.
As a result of a three minute time limit, this match ends in a DRAW!
Three minutes? What's up with that?
I couldn't stand watching StreetMime and Très Sheik for more than three minutes, could you?
Good point. Next week, we'll see the big match to determine just who will take on Pedro Chang for his belt. Until next week, keep your pants off!
(c) Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre 1997