The Biggest Piece of Trash Card in Sports Entertainment

(Okay, Saturday Night, bad example)

Hello fans, and welcome to Thursday Something-or-Other! I'm here along with Gary "the Glutton" Gourmando, unfortunately...
I gotta make a paycheck somehow, Vince. I got bills ta pay. Food bills. Big ones.
I can imagine. Hey wait, something was missing from your dialogue, Gary...
Oh yeah? And what's that? BRAAAAAAP!
Never mind, all is right with the world once more.
Well we've got a good show, or something, lined up for youse tonight. It's got everything - Hubcappers, Gallery-ites, and a great-looking little number called Tiffany Lane. She could use a little meat on her bones, though.
Are you kidding? Don't answer that. But you said a mouthful, Glutton, this show is really above-average for a Thursday. It's almost on par with Nae Trous. So let's kick it Tiffany Lane battles "Soft Core" Zack.
This contest is set for one fall. Making his...I mean HER...way down the aisle (thanks a lot whoever wrote this card), weighing in at...
Tiffany Lane: Don't you DARE say it!
Okay, whatever. TIFFANY LANE!
("Miss World" by Hole plays as Tiffany Lane and Nina Laroue strut down the aisle. The sarcastic fratboys in the front section are hooting like maniacs...then they turn away from the fight in the crowd to ogle the Babe Squad.)

Hole? Come on, let's face it, Veruca Salt is a much more fitting group.
Everybody's a critic. Tiffany is giving the crowd the "behind" much to the enjoyment of the men and the seething fury of the women. Why does her butt look so fuzzy? It's barely visible.
You're looking at the monitor. It's being censored.
Oh, right. I could have figured as much.
Her opponent, from Ames, Iowa and weighing 262 lbs., accompanied by Deviance, the master of weak-extreme, he is..."Soft Core" Zack!
("Enter Sandman", covered by Pat Boone plays. Zack enters covered in party streamers. He drinks what seems to be iced tea from a Dixie Cup and crumples it over his head. The crowd is loving it.)
An interesting entrance for "Soft Core" Zack.
Zack: As you well know, this match is going to be conducted under "Zack's Rules". Unless, you're not EXTREME enough! Yeah! (pulls out a whiffle bat and starts hitting the ropes with it)
Tiffany: Bring it on. I'll bet your "core" isn't the only thing that's "soft".

Ooh, feisty. I like that!
Zack: Deve, get my stuff.
Deviance is pulling out all manner of weapons: Nerf balls, whiffle bats, couch cushions, and a really thin plywood table! I can't wait to see THAT in action.
***bell rings.
Soft Core Zack mounting an offense, but whether any damage is inflicted is beyond me. That whiffle bat is doing virtually nothing. Tiffany Lane with a drop toehold. She goes into a half-Crab. Zack hobbles his way to the ropes and the hold is broken.
Come on! The weapons are there, let's use 'em! We want blood!
Blood? Somehow I doubt we'll see that. Zack grabs a Nerf missle-launcher. Those styrofoam things just bounce off Tiffany's lovely frame.
Hey, you're the play-by-play. No complimenting the heels.
Oh yeah, she's a heel, isn't she? When I said "lovely" I meant "slutty".

This program is rated TV-14 because of Vince McMadden's big mouth.

Hey! Don't make me come down there, Ratings Man!

Oh yeah? I'm just a non-corporeal entity. I can say whatever I damn well please and YOU can't stop me. So THERE, big man.

Tiffany with a high-heeled shoe right in the forehead! Soft Core drops to the floor. Is that a tear in his eye?
Zack: No fair! You're cheating!
The ref won't have any of this. Zack, oh what a cheap shot, he takes an aggression therapy mallet upside Tiffany's face! She's briefly stunned by the whole stupidity of this...
I've just been told that beer consumption has gone up 30% since the beginning of this match.
That's great Gary, you just keep us updated. Zack lays Tiffany Lane on the plywood table!
You mean he SETS her on the table.
Sure, why not. Ohhh...I see. Yes, a slip of the tongue indeed. He's going for the Soft Core Moonsault! YES! That table breaks clean in half. Zack covers: 1...kickout. Zack can't believe he didn't win just now! Tiffany with some forearms, and there's her finisher, Tiffany's Secret!
No way does a girl know a dragon suplex. That's gotta be a guy.
Feminists, send those letters to Gary Gourmando, care of the *mmfmmmfss*
Lane covers: 1...2...3! What a win.
Here is your winner...TIFFANY LANE!
A brief celebration ensuing in the ring. Soft Core Zack is sulking in the corner. But wait, here comes Sweet Candy Andy! He's handing his famous "bidniss cards" to Nina Laroue and Deviance! Who knows what will come of this. Nina definitely looks disgusted, but Deviance is actually reading the fine print. Zack snatches that card from Deve's hand and tears it up. As they head back to the locker room, let's go to the next match. It's Spontaneous Human Combusion and Mittens vs. the Ambulance Jockeys and Necro Phil.
These six-man tags never advance the angles. Can I go get something to eat?
No. Here, have this jar of old peanut butter. Just be sure to scrape the mold off the top.
Excellent. Here's Announcer Lad to give you the details.
Details? Yeah, whatever. First, Team #1, they're part of Grampa's Old Boys, three monsters and no brain between them, It's Scythe, Implosion, and Mittens!
("Monster Men" by Iggy Pop plays. Crowd gives a small pop. Well, gee, what do YOU think they'd get when SHC never even speak? SHC enter the ring, lift their arms in the air, and the catch fire. The sarcastic fratboys whoop and holler at the spectacle, temporarily boosted out of their drunken haze. The Pyro Guys douse them quickly.)
And their opponents, representing Club Med, three smaller guys and a cardboard box, here are Barry Brown, Garry Greene and NECRO PHIL!
(The ER theme plays. Necro Phil shows off his arm implant from Texas Instruments, looks inside his cardboard box and sighs.)

***bell rings.
It's Necro Phil against Scythe. Necro Phil looks up, looks WAY up, and tags in Barry Brown? What a chicken!
Mmmf mmmm ffmmfmm mmm mm! (scrapes peanut butter off his mouth) You gave me this peanut butter to silence me, didn't you?
Well yeah. Why wouldn't I? Barry Brown with a dropkick. Scythe is taken back a few inches. Barry with a clothesline and Scythe doesn't budge. Barry Brown with a hurricanrana and NOW Scythe goes down. Barry puts on a nicely executed chinlock.
MMrsst fffld? MMMW?!
Why not a rest hold now? Scythe powers out of it. He's standing up now and Barry just hanging on to Scythe's neck. Scythe attempts to fall back on him. Barry moves out of the way, Scythe falls, Barry covers: Scythe gets up. Kick, kick, punch, sunset flip by Barry: not even a one count, as Scythe pincers Barry's head. Barry makes the tag to Garry Greene. Garry pauses to showboat on the turnbuckle and make motions to his rippling abs.
MMM're mmmft FMMMt mmood.
I think he's got sufficient reason to display them, Gary. Okay, quit with the peanut butter. I feel like I'm talking to Mr. Planters here. (tosses the peanut butter away) Oh dear, I seem to have hit Implosion in the head with the jar!
You're in for it now. BRAAAAAAP!
You're the one they all saw eating it. The tag to Mittens is made. Meanwhile, Scythe and Grampa are approaching the announcer's table.
Grampa: Alright, who threw that?
Vince! Vince!
What a lie! Who else would throw food but the Glutton.
Grampa: Scythe? Take care of 'em both.
*gaaak* double chokeslam!
That'll teach us. *tic*
Grampa: That's right! Next time, you'll have some manners!
The Ambulance Jockeys and Phil triple-teaming Mittens now while Grampa and Scythe were pre-occupied, and Implosion knocked cold. *cough* *cough* Phil with the Bionic Elbow!
I think that could be it. Phil makes a cover: 1...2...3! Not bad, not bad at all.
Post-match brawl ensuing. "Uniformed security officials" are leading them to the back.
Wouldn't be a wrestling cliché without the fake cops.
Quite so. Well, we've still got some matches to go, next up is the Hubcapper Claude Leroux as he takes on the Gallery's newest acquisition, douja! Wait...I'm getting word that something's going on in the back involving douja, and the Intergalactic Champ, Homicidal Hank! Let's watch, this should be fun!
(douja and Hank are seen fighting backstage. Hank seems to be winning.)
Look at that! Hank just slammed douja onto the floor! And now douja is being strangled by some floor cables. douja doesn't know WHAT'S going on, he's in one of his normal stupors.
douja: I'm hungry, yo..huh huh..
Hank picks up douja in running powerslam position. Battering ram right through the men's room door! The fight is continuing. But OddJobber better get out of the way, no time to wash his hands!
OddJobber: Oi! Wot's all this then?
OddJobber is tossed against the mirror, which shatters.
He's getting a little bump-bonus in his paycheck.
I suppose so. Wait, who's that person over there? The one dressed in red with yellow lightning bolts?
Unknown person: Come on! Use the toilets! COME ON!
Hank: Please, sir, get out of the camera shot.
douja: Yeah, you wreckin' kayfabe..huh huh..
Unknown person: Okay, but Hank, you stay away from my Nancy or you'll get more of the same!
Hank: I promise nothing!

Hank has just dunked douja's head in the commode! douja is spluttering!
And I'm getting the feeling I've seen this before! Wait, I was right, here comes the Bully!
Bully: Hey! Quit stealing my bit.
Hank: Get lost, you're not in the STWF anymore.
Bully: True, I'm just lurking around in the bowels of the Ivory Tower now.
Hank: Then I get dibs on the gimmicks YOU'RE not using anymore!
Bully: Fine...*sniff*...see if I care. (skulks away)

I gotta admit, this is one of the weirdest bits we've seen so far in STWF history.
Oh, I wouldn't go that far. douja seems to have snapped out of his stupor, and they're still going at it now!
Please, not the boiler room, not the boiler room! BRAAAAAP!
Well, Claude Leroux is in the ring right now waiting. He's playing the "Jeopardy!" theme on his accordion.
Claude Leroux: Enough of this! Ref, start counting douja out. I can't wait forever, eh?
The ref is counting douja out...1...2...9...10!
Yeah, it was obvious he wouldn't show anyway, why bother counting 3-8?
The winner of this match, as a result of a count-out, CLAUDE "LIGHTNING FINGERS" LEROUX!
Claude throws his Stetson in the air, does a "riding the bull" dance, and starts playing "Whip It" on his accordion.
Claude's sure acting strangely for a Mountie, don't you think?
He's just celebrating, leave him be. Now...onto another fan-fugu-tastic match. It's a Meeting of the Minds - Flash "the Mastermind" Flanagan will take on the Pencil-Necked Geek.
This meeting of the minds is set for one fall or brain hemmorhage and/or aneurysm, whichever comes first. Making his way to the ring first, he calls himself the Mastermind, accompanied by StreetMime, from Corinth, Kentucky, FLASH FLANAGAN!
("It's All Been Done" by the Barenaked Ladies plays. Massive pop for the Hubcapper. StreetMime does some Elvis pointing and mock-bowing.)

That mime is such a flunkie.
And his opponent, from Computers Unknown and weighing in at 115 lbs., 9 of which I'm told are brain alone, he is...THE PENCIL-NECKED GEEK!
(The Beer Barrel Polka plays. People are looking around to see if Claude Leroux showed up again, then remembered it's the Geek's theme song.)

(screech of a vinyl record is heard)
Meeting of the Minds. What a joke. Now Flash, if that is your real name, I am sorry to say that my honour system forbids me from fighting you. You see, I won't engage in a meeting of the minds with someone who can't defend himself!
Heh heh...that's a good one.
Is the Geek being sincere, or has he returned to his heelish self? I'm guessing this is a grey area.
Wait! It's Irving Goldstein and Big Baby Hubert coming in from the audience! They have that lead-filled rubber duck. Flash has just been clobbered with it.
I don't understand it either.
Hey! What are you guys doing?! My Techies were supposed to interfere in this match. (pulls up a trapdoor in the mat) You can come up now, guys, there's been a change of plans.
The Techie Salesmen from Hell are coming out of the trapdoor, red cloaks fluttering. They had some really thick encyclopædia tomes at the ready, too. The Geek is now whispering something to Bait, who goes over to ring the bell. He quickly runs back, careful not to spend too much time near the Creepy Timekeeper.
He may be smart, but he ain't dumb.
I ought to eject you for that comment, Glutton. This match is officially underway. Flash was levelled so it doesn't take a genius to realize a Sharpened Pencil will do the trick. Wait! Flash Flanagan rolls him up! Flash was playing possum all along! But wait, Irving hits Flash with that duck again.
We need some order here! Where are the Forces of Justice when you need them?
The Pencil-Necked Geek with the Wrong Homework! He covers: 1...2...3. Flash with a brilliant set-up, but didn't quite work out in the end.
What's will all these screwjob endings?
It can only mean one thing...there's a big PPV lurking. And what a PPV it will be folks! SUPERCARD IV is just two weeks away! Sort of. It's a well known fact that screwjobs increase as the major cards approach.
At the rate they're going, let's hope that's not exactly true, and we'll have some sense at the next Nae Trous. BRAAAAAAP!
I'll agree with you there, Gary. Well, it's time for the main event! Sergeant Genocide, the #1 contender to the Intergalactic Belt, and a heavy favourite going into SUPERCARD IV, will battle it out against the first-ever Intergalactic Champion, the Tiger. Gary? Your thoughts?
I think that those Columbine kids...
I'll stop you there before we get in trouble with the FCC.
This contest is set for one fall, and believe me, this one is too big to end cleanly, especially on a Thursday.
You idiot! You're not supposed to say that.
Hey, McMadden, I'm reading the cards. If you want to take a look at 'em after the show be my guest. Making his way first, the guy who hasn't won a belt yet but acts like he owns them all, the front-runner, the top rung, the peak of the food chain, SERGEANT GENOCIDE!
("Extermination Blues" by Robin Trower plays. And here comes the trash! Sergeant Genocide dons a rain slicker and struts to the ring. He's hit in the head with a roll of toilet tissue but ignores it.)
And his opponent, a legend in our sport...s entertainment, the winner of the Bunkhouse 'Blivion Brawl, the first-ever Intergalactic Champion, THE TIGER!
("Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor plays. The Organ Grinder and J. Fred Kokomo, Jr. are behind him, and are told to leave the ringside area. Kokomo takes a swipe at the security official's eyes (and misses), then leaves with his owner.)

***bell rings.
So Vince, how many technical moves you think they'll pull off before this match is thrown out too?
Hard to say, it's timed pretty carefully and...hey! Quit that! The Tiger and the Ukranian Monster lock up. Genocide with a hiptoss. Guillotine legdrop by the Big Ethnic Cleansing Machine. The Tiger gets up. Big elbow, neckbreaker by the Tiger. Both men up now.
This is going on longer than I'd have figured.
They just started! Genocide with a double-leg takedown. He headbutts the Tiger downstairs. That's pain. That's big pain.
No, pain is swallowing a prickly-pair whole. *cough* Got a large set of tweezers?
Here, let me slap your back, that oughta dislodge it.
No, we already did the interference-by-announcers'-food bit.
Oh yeah, that's right. Well you just suffer then. Sergeant Genocide drags the former champ over to the ringpost. He's about to slam the knee against the ringpost! And yes! The Tiger's leg bends properly right around that post, such intolerable agony! Listen to those boos.
Yeah, the Rogue's guy is getting that heat alright.
He's about to do it, baby, one more time! He's looking for crowd disapproval...
(sound of stuff breaking is heard. Gigantic pop.)
It's Luke Warm! Just the right thing to cap off a ratings-poor Thursday card. Big forearm shots, the Tiger is freed, he hobbles off to the locker room because his part in this angle is over.
It is?
The Hubcapper and the Gallery-ite are duking it out! And folks, we're desperately out of time!
According to my watch, we've got another three minutes!
Really? Well tough, I'm sure DK won't mind getting more money for commercials. On behalf of Gary "the Glutton" Gourmando this is Angus "Vince" McMadden saying, join us next week for Thursday Something-or-Other. Or something.
©1999 Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre