Monday Nae Trous
Monday Nae Trous - Unopposed

(Opening credits begin. Hokey rock music abounds. Superstars in action. StreetMime shown falling from the rafters. Strangely, the Organ Grinder is shown briefly.)
(Pan interior of the Slobberknocker Arena. The pyro guys whip out their sparklers and flare guns to do their thing. Girl Friday appears looking confused. She remembers it's Monday and leaves. Gary Gourmando runs after her, mumbling something about "hooking up", or maybe "hook-up".)
WELCOME everyone to Monday Nae Trous! We've got a very...special...card tonight.
That means it's a real dog.
So what? Oliver Copp's Smoky Championship Wrestling is showing a tropical fish show. We can show whatever we darn well please. Besides, wouldn't you say a double-return match isn't too shabby?
Death? Prisnah X? Yeah, that's coo'.
I suppose...but what about the ring rust factor? And the rest of the matches? Hock-TOOEEEE!
What are you saying? Keep this up and we'll get killed by the fish show.
Fine, fine. Just a little bitter today. That's all. I'll be fine. Fine, fine, fine. Announcer Lad, let's go with a StreetMimer.
This contest is set for one fall. Making his way down the aisle.... the first-ever wrestler to step on STWF soil from "outside"...
("Walk" by Kilgore begins to play. The crowd starts chanting "R-V-D")
Aw, man! Der Kommissaar signed Rob Van Dam! What a coup!
I'm kind of in awe myself. I don't think we could even get somebody like Test.
What? No! It's Flash Flanagan.
(He enters. The crowd pop dies down.)
And his opponent, former STWF champion, the man...the myth...the mime...StreetMime!
("Sous Le Ciel De Paris" by Maurice Chevalier plays. Somebody forgot to tell Vic the Sound Guy that StreetMime is from Nice, France and not Paris. He walks against the wind to the ring (no rafters for him today.)
***bell rings.
StreetMime pulls out the imaginary flowers, sniffs them and hands them to Flash. Flanagan doesn't know what to do, so he takes them.
Mistake?
Nope. No discernible effect.
The Mime tries a kick. Flash grabs the leg. Enzuigiri attempt by StreetMime fails miserably. Flash with a short clothesline. This is more technical wrestling than any StreetMime match I've ever seen!
How about StreetMime vs. Michael Wackson at MNT#1?
I can't remember that far back.
Frankly, neither can I but the producers told me to say it. Chet, take us back? Hey, he's complying, but just this once. And just the ending.
Wackson picks up StreetMime, and OH! WHAT A DROPKICK! The mime is sent sprawling to the iron gate. What's this? Wackson with a plancha, and StreetMime is out cold! Wackson and StreetMime outside now, StreetMime kneels and groinshots Wackson! He was playing possum! That was uncalled for!
I don't know, StreetMime is getting more aggressive, we could use that. But I don't think Wackson is fazed one bit! Both competitors inside now, and Wackson with an enzuigiri to the head. StreetMime ain't gettin' up from that, no way. But Wackson's not done! To the top rope...he's moonwalking across the top rope?...and a big split-leg moonsault by Wackson! Goes for the pin...is that enough? 1...2...3! I guess it is.
Man, did I really sound like that back then?
I'm surprised you got all that mic time.
I'm surprised we can get away with showing clips from the first-ever broadcast of Monday Nae Trous to a widespread audience. But we're unopposed! Bwahahaha!
You're creepin' us out, V.
Flash hits a DDT. StreetMime should be down for good. Flanagan hooks the leg.
Why, does he think the Mime will kick out?
It's always a good practice. 1...2...3! And there you go.
Here is your winner, Flash Flanagan!
Here comes da Tiger!
The Tiger: Finnegan! Next week on Monday Nae Trous. It's you and me in a ladder match. Don't be late. Wouldn't want to disappoint all your fans in Music City, now would we? Stay hot, superstar.
That was just an appetizer for what's coming next!
What IS coming next?
Hopefully commercials.
Sorry. It's Mittens vs. the Violent Pacifist.
Oh. Goody.
This contest is scheduled for one fall. It'sthe Violent Pacifist. It's Mittens. Enough said. Sorry, I had a late night last night.
Uh...here they both come...
***bell rings.
And the VP and Mittens lock up. Mittens shoves the VP to the turnbuckle. And now he's grinding the Pacifist's face into that quarter-pillow.
The sheer CARNAGE!
And now Mittens grabs the VP by the hair and pushes him onto that springy canvas.
How much more can the Pacifist TAKE?
Good question. Mittens puts on a chokehold. He lets go just in time. VP with a slap to Mittens' face, and he twirls the propeller on Mittens' beanie. And now he pokes his belly like Mittens was the Pillsbury doughboy or something.
What is the Pacifist doing? Is he purposely trying to anger Mittens?
The Violent Pacifist ducks a clothesline. He tries to pick up Mittens for a slam...nope, not happening. Mittens tries to pick up the Pacifist for a slam. Nope, still nothing.
???
Turn on your mic, all we saw was a goofy facial expression.
HUH???
Better. Very eloqently put.
The VP is going up top for a splash...Mittens catches him in midair and DRIVES him hard to the mat. Cover: 1...2...sorry. The VP dropkicks Mittens in the spine. Mittens goes down on two knees. VP with a sleeperhold. Mittens powers out.
Real back-and-forth match, wouldn't you agree, Jamal?
Sure, I guess. *Yawn* Man, I'm sleepy. (keels over)
Get some medical attention, quick!
I see you're down an announcer. Mind if I sit in?
Why not? This night couldn't get any worse. Sit in, Colonel. Okay, the Ambulance Jockeys are taking Jamal away. Mittens is putting on the Glove! That leg is taking all kinds of damage from being pulled in its natural direction.
I can't WATCH!!
You're kidding, right? Did I miss something?
The Violent Pacifist taps out.
Here is your winner, MITTENS!
Okay, then, let's move on to Jean Bannister vs. Luke Warm.
Three subpar matches in a row? What, is there a fish show on the other channel or something?
Yes, we've already established that, and the joke is getting old.
Next time, debrief me before inviting me in. It's the least you could do.
This contest is set for one fall. Making his way first, all the way from Thunder Bay, the Hockey Hall of Shamer...JEAN BANNISTER!
("Rock and Roll, Part 2" by Gary Glitter plays. The crowd feels compelled to cheer at the appropriate bits.)
Brings me back to the days when I had to sell popcorn at hockey games.
And his opponent, from Bumbledink, Tejas and weighing 255 lbs., LUKE WARM!
(Stuff breaking plays. Luke Warm runs to the ring, jumps on a turnbuckle and gives a "double thumbs-up" sign.)
Good talent. Somewhat underused.
Rogue's Gallery material, but he'll never hook up with a stable, he's a loner, plain and simple.
Strange insight from Col. "Pops" Khorne. Hey, as part of our working agreement with Mentally Challenged wrestling, they've lent us their timekeeper for this match.
Bell: ***BRAAAAAP!***
I'm starting to see why they're Mentally Challenged.
Don't knock the MCW. Mike "the Strike" Webber could beat you down any day of the week. And that's my reference for the week! Luke Warm runs into Jean Bannister full force, and he's...tousling his hair?
It's "hockey hair", Vince. Don't you know anything? Got to attack the hockey hair. I think it's a display of strength, much like Sampson.
Not doing Jean much good right now. Luke Warm with some hairpulling tactics, and the ref warning him. Luke with a hiptoss. He tries a legdrop, but Jean Bannister lifts the knees and Luke Warm is in trouble now!
???
I think it's a faulty headset, "Pops". Jiggle the wire a bit.
Hello? Am I on? SCREW YOU ALL! I'M TAKING DOUJA DOWN! I'M GONNA <-BLEEP-> <-BLEEP-> <-BLEEEEEEEEP-> UNTIL THE WORD <-BLEEP-> IS COMPLETELY OBSCURED!
Yes, you're on.
Good. I take back nothing.
Jean Bannister with a forearm shot. Side headlock takeover by the hockey player. The Tejan slips out and applies a hammerlock. Standing switch back...
"Tejan"? Come on, this isn't the Spanish table. They're over there!
Spanish announcer: GOOOOOOOOOOAAAAALLL! GOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAALLL!
They deserve a table shot today I think.
Why? We're unopposed. And I like those guys. They make wrestling so much more fun.
Oh bugger.
Luke Warm puts on a German suplex. He covers: 1...2...no.
Who's that coming to ringside? He looks familiar.
Looks like the Terror. There's a blast from the past.
He's coming in and trying to stop the match. But why, Terror, why?
Who cares? We need to move on.
Bell: ***MOTHER, IS THAT YOU?***
Ladies and gentlemen, this match has been ruled a no-contest! (crowd cheers)
If ever there was a time to take a break, it's now.
Welcome to the Albatross Brothers Gaming Center. I'm Announcer Lad, along with Gamesmaster Willy. How's it hanging, Willy?
Outstanding. Outstanding!
Uh...okay. This is Puzz-4D. I still can't get over this technology, Willy. Not only is it a 3-D puzzle, but all the unmatched knobs and hollows actually change with time, and still fit each other! And the settings are as easy as ten minutes to as difficult as five seconds! You gotta tell me, how's it work?
(blank stare from Willy)
What technology did you use, then?
(blank stare from Willy)
(resignedly) How's the gameplay, Willy?
Willy: Outstanding. Outstanding!
(through clenched teeth) Great. Let's take you now as Sally Sleepy-Time plays Puzz-4D.
(black screen goes up with white lettering "FOOTAGE NOT AVAILABLE)
Willy: Outstanding. Outstanding!
That's all our time. Don't expect us next week.
(Cut to a teenager against a blue background. He's wearing a toque.)
I don't like the word "Mini". Everything has to be mini nowadays, like miniskirts, and mini-disk drives, and mini-malls, and mini-this-and-that. Soon everything will be so small you can't find it after the warranty runs out.
Diversity at Tonea's. What the hell?
And we're back. The Ambulance Jockeys and the Chosen Ones are in the ring. Jamal Tupac Mustafa is at ringside on a backboard.
I still don't have a clue why he keeled over. *snicker*
***bell rings.
Barry and Irving starting things off. Barry with a kneelift. Barry whips Irving to the buckle and stepping-sidekicks him.
Was that supposed to be impressive? And why aren't the Rhythm and Blues Express getting a title shot?
They'll get theirs soon enough.
Did you guys understand why Chemical Warfare wanted a shot at the Mighty Bastard Psycho Driver belts when they're ranked for the Heavyweight belts?
Lowering their standards is my guess. But the R&B Express would be more than happy to take them down and move up to the big leagues.
Barry has just tagged Garry Greene. Irving scoops him up, and powerslam!
(writing) powerslam... okay...uh huh...Garvin stomp, that's interesting...
What are you doing?
Scouting. Going to relay this info to the Express.
I'd kick you off the property, but I don't own the Slobberknocker Arena.
I thought you had a 15% share of this place.
How much ARE you making, McMadden? Or should I say misappropriating?
Uh...uh...Garry "the Gurney" Greene with a powerbomb! But wait, the Head Trauma Boys have stepped out of the audience and are flirting with Nurse Heidi.
Flatline: You're....like....uhhhhhhhh...a babe. Can we, like......uhhhh....have your number?
Coma: Wobble...... Smeep.
Heidi looks disgusted.
Barry going down to ringside to shoo them away. Garry is equally distracted. Jeffrey Goldstein, the fresh man, rolls him up. 1....2....reversal! Garry covers, he's grabbing the slacks and he's got his foot on the top rope! 1....2....3! They win, but it isn't kosher.
Here are your winners, and NEEEEEEEW Mighty Bastard Psycho Driver Champions, THE AMBULANCE JOCKEYS!
Score another one for Club Med. Irving and Jeffrey contesting the decision and pointing at the vibrating rope. Barry thinking quickly, he starts shaking the rope himself, and shrugging at the ref. The ref bought it. The decision stands.
This can't be good going into Heart-Breaking Hell.
Those Ambulance Jockeys think they know from dirty tactics. The R&B Express wrote the book on dirty tactics! They also wrote the Book of Love in case anyone out there was wondering.
Club Med going in to celebrate. And Tyrone Mayhem and the Geek are out now!
Mayhem: Yo Irving, iss you an' me on Friday. Just so ya know.
Excuse me Jeffrey, but I believe you and I have a mat...what? What do you mean, we don't? Oh, doesn't that beat all. Get my agent on the phone!
(they leave)
Okay...it's time for the main event!
This contest is set for one fall. Making his way to the ring first, making his STWF return to action...the man, the myth, the drunk....DEATH!
(A funereal version of "You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC plays. Death enters, looking happily buzzed. Mediocre crowd pop that's not bad for a return.)
And his opponent, from New York City, accompanied by the Warden, representing the Inner Circle, PRISONER X!
("Hell's Bells" by AC/DC...coincidence? He enters the ring to another mediocre pop.)
Let's hope one or both of these guys regains their popularity.
Let's hope I can get the ICCTINACBBIC strap at Heart-Breaking Hell.
Why? You suck.
I'm trying REALLY hard not to strike you right now, McMadden.
Whatever. There's the bell, and they're off! Death with a drop toehold. Death with an elbowdrop on the Prisoner's back. He tries another one, but the Prisoner rolls out of the way and picks Death up by the head. Prisoner X with a big gorilla press...and then just drops him.
I love it when that happens. Shame he's IC.
Death with a dragonscrew legwhip.
Whoa! Death's Mexican training has really paid off.
What business does a barfly reaper have learning lucha libre?
He's STWF. Expect the unexpected. On the same note, expect the predictable, too. Death has the Prisoner in a cranial claw. He lets go after a sharp blow to the temples with his fingernails.
Now here's a match I can get into!
Prisoner X is up. Shoulderblock. Picks up Death. Another shoulderblock! He tosses Death outside. Prisoner X is running, He grabs the top rope and does a flying crossbody!
???
?! ... :>
Stupid headsets! Get us some hand microphones, would you please, somebody? Prisoner X puts Death into the unforgiving aluminum steps! Death puts Prisoner X to a ringpost. Prisoner X just felt that ringpost from three inches away, that's power!
That's stupidity. ****BLEEEEEEEER**** (crowd covers ears in annoyance)
Not a good day for audio. Both men are back inside the ring.
Ref: 35 seconds, 35 seconds, let's go!
Prisoner X elbows Death in the head, and Death goes down hard. Prisoner X applies it...it's the Lockdown! Death isn't giving up....oh yes he is!
Here is your winner, Prisoner X!
Death stomps out of the ring, but first stops to give the Warden a piledriver.
He had to figure in somehow.
Well, that match marginally made up for the rest of the crap. But we're unopposed. We'll see you on Friday, maybe. There's talk of a cat show. But don't worry, even if the matches are pre-empted, we'll be sure to give you all the results on Monday. And of course, update you on Jamal's condition. For Captain Twilight and Colonel "Pops" Khorne, this is Angus "Vince" McMadden saying, keep your pants off!
©1999 Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre