FIVE SUPERCARDS IN THE MAKING


(well, okay, four before this one, and two of those weren't posted, but I do have 'em, honest!)

(Pan interior of the Large Dome. A huge number of people present. Most of them look like cardboard cutouts and paid audience plants. But hey, those count, don't they? Everyone is eagerly anticipating just what might go down on this historic evening. Signs include "douja's black?", "The Tiger's white?" and "Ken Thompson Has a Posse!" The Pyro Guys bring on the Roman Candles and the laser-pen light show. Enrique, the cue-card man, suffers a burned retina but that's just the price you gotta pay for quality nowadays!)
It's that time of year again....for DA BIGGEST CARD OF DEM ALL! Welcome everyone to SUPERCARD V! I'm Angus "Vince" McMadden, and alongside me is Captain Twilight as we present this historic night of surprises, shocks, and yes, possibly even some wrestling. Now, here to sing the National Anthems of Canada, the United States, England, New Zealand, France and the Czech Republic, please give a warm hand to everyone's favourite manufactured teenage sensation, the Brunette with a Bottle herself, Christina Puttanera!
(She walks out in a black leather miniskirt and matching airtight top. She tosses her bleached-blond hair back to the hoots and hollers of depraved young men in the crowd.)
Christina Puttanera: Hee hee! Hey what's up, everybody! Are we all ready for Slamboree? (Enrique runs over and whispers something in her ear. Is that tongue we see?) What? SUPERCARD V? I gotta talk to my agent. Oh well...hee hee
*Ahem*
(in obvious rhythm-and-blues style stolen from black people despite the fact she's obviously white - and not that Michael Jackson faux-white either)
Ohhhhh Caaaaanadaaaa....our home and natiiive laaaand....
Truuuuuue paaaaatriot...

Oh my God! It's the Heelside Stranglers! They're laying a beatdown on Christina Puttanera!
What...what...what...really bad guys! However, some of the twentysomething females in the crowd seem appreciative... as do the fathers of all the young girls. Event security is coming out to break up the scene.
Violent Pacifist: See that, DK? THIS is what's gonna happen to you if things don't start changing around here! O Canada? This is what I think of your pathetic country! (spits on Christina Puttanera)
Jean Bannister: Uh...hey, VP, I'm Canadian too.
Sir Hungalot: And I'm not, but I'm a parody of someone from Scarborough, Ontario...hey, can I take this filly home? I want to see if she's really the "puttana" her last name implies.
Violent Pacifist: SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU! We're out of here. DK, you just watch it, I've got a chip on my shoulder and I'm going to break it over your head! (they leave)

Strong words. Although, I'm not sure that last metaphor made a lot of sense.
It's the thought behind it all that counts. What Der Kommissaar plans to do about all this, I'm not sure. But let's start things off as Jamal Tupac Mustafa battles Broadway Musical Man!
Currently in the ring, mainly because he just about popped up early from the announce table, representing Faces, Inc., he is JAMAL TUPAC MUSTAFA!
("Raise the Roof" by Luke briefly plays as Jamal stands up on the turnbuckles to minimal applause)
His opponent, from New York City, accompanied by Annie and representing the Insane Claude Posse, here is BROADWAY MUSICAL MAN!
(Broadway comes down the aisle wearing an elaborate multicoloured robe. Annie is right behind)

BMM: I am handsome, I am smart! I am a walking work of art! How I love my Coat of Many Colours...it was red and yellow and orange and green and purple and ocher and ...um...teal and mocha and ...
Annie: What about blue? You forgot blue.
BMM: Blue is the very last one named! Everyone knows that...besides, you shouldn't know colours if you don't have irises or pupils.
Annie: Golly...

***bell rings.
Jamal runs at him with a massive forearm smash. And now a vertical suplex! Broadway could very well become off-Broadway.
How do you figure, Vince?
I don't...ask the scriptwriters...Broadway gets up and there's a hairpull...the ref is warning BMM. Broadway puts on a sleeper.
Yup, it's a sleeper all right. *Yawn*
Jamal vigorously shaking his hands to indicate that yes, he's still in this. Watching enough matches will accustom you to such a cliché. Jamal reaches the ropes and the hold is broken. Broadway with a spinning kick! He's now taking off the Amazing Technicolor(TM) Dreamcoat and is choking Jamal with it! Look at that man's eyes.
Yes, a rather compelling blue.
I mean he's got that buggy I'm-insane-or-doing-a-bad-Bob-Backlund-impression look! The ref is counting 1...2...3...4...5! He's forcing Broadway to break the hold, but it's not happening!
Broadway: Sing, damn you! Sing like you've never sung before!
Jamal: (choking) um...biggie biggie biggie, cain't you see...
Broadway: ARRRGH!

***bell rings.
Here is your winner, as a result of a disqualification, Jamal Tupac Mustafa!
Wow, how often do you see DQs done out of someone's own merits as opposed to screwjobs? Not often, nowadays.
What an interesting turn of events, albeit one that won't be explored in the likely future. And now...Flatline vs. "Da Jewce" Frank Horshiwitz is coming your way!
Oh f<-BLEEP->ing boy!
Captain Twilight, such language! Even on PPVs we can't get away with that...
We really need to get on some specialty cable.
Yeah, THAT'LL increase our ratings. Both men in the ring now.
***bell rings.
Frank Horshiwitz with a double leg takedown...moves into a Boston Crab...Flatline shakes "Da Jewce" off his back. Flatline misses with an Asai moonsault and doesn't seem to care! Because DJ Uhhh don't give a ... uhhhh...about nothing!
Doesn't give. Anything.
You really need to learn the language of the young people, Cap.
You mean the lazy uneducated pidgin of people who won't bother to keep civilization?
Yup, that'd be the one. Flatline with a clothesline that catches by pure fluke. Frank is up and dropkicks Flatline to the ropes. Flatline regains balance, catches "Da Jewce" on the rebound in a bearhug, spins and there's a belly-to-belly suplex! DJ Uhhh to the top rope... diving headbutt! This one could be over...1...2...3! Yup, it is!
Here is your winner...Flatline!

This message put here just to see if the Tiger only does searches for his name...I'm inclined to think he does.

This was supposed to be an UNINTERRUPTED PPV!
If that was true, we wouldn't have a need for Commander Sisqo and his Klingong Song halfway through.
No...I suppose not. Needless to say, it'll be better than the Asylum Alliance house band...remember that?
(Cut to stock footage of guys playing squeezy dog toys, eggplants, talking Urkel dolls and the buckets on their heads as instruments. Among many other things that we can't mention)
Actually, I don't remember that at all...
Nor should anyone. I was asked by the producer to show that...it was part of CDC'98, the first-ever Canada Day Chaos. And after that, I'm glad to say I missed it.
This contest blah blah blah. Making his way to the ring, from Audubon, Michigan, weighing 223 lbs. or something, who knows - he never really says and refuses to be weighed - here is Pigeon!
("Rockin' Robin" plays, a sharp contrast to Pigeon's bleak demeanor. Pigeon shambles to the ring, slumps in a corner and holds a hand out for a mic. The ring attendant doesn't give him one on account of Pigeon didn't say "please".)
His opponent, from Tacoma, Washington, weighing 221 lbs., he'd be a nice guy if he didn't try to identify with evil dictators, "Fascist" Blake Rogers!
(The marching rhythm plays as he comes down the aisle, then switches up to the ever-popular Bloodhound Gang beatz. Blake Rogers starts shaking hands, but few want anything to do with him. A few bald guys cheer for him. Hunh - must be Luke Warm fans.)

***bell rings.
The Fascist extends a hand of sportsmanship. Pigeon looks ambivalent...just like always. Pigeon with a very UNSPORTSMANLIKE rake to the eyes! What an insult. Blake Rogers just smiles and executes a fireman's carry takeover. Pigeon gets up and some kicks to Blake Rogers' midsection. Not very technical but they can't all be Captain Twilight matches.
Why thank you, Vince, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.
You wrote that in there, didn't you?
Who? Me?
Blake Rogers puts Pigeon to the corner. Big chop! Whoo! And another one! Whoo! Irish Whip to the other corner, reversed by Pigeon, reversed back...Pigeon attempts a third reversal and both men are stuck side-by-side in the corner?
Hmmm...how very odd.
Never saw that one coming. "Fascist" Blake Rogers squirms out of the corner via the ring ropes. And back in, dropkicking Pigeon right in the noggin. Pigeon goes down in a heap. Rogers going to the top for a big splash!
Can't be that big, he's only 221 pounds!
The old man on my right will be quiet, and there's a cover, a count, and a victory for "Fascist" Blake Rogers!
Here is your winner..."Fascist" Blake Rogers!
Yes, I already pointed that out.
Well excuse me for trying to make things official!
Announcer Lad has some insecurity issues it seems. Well onto our next contest and it oughta be a doozy as an animated snowman takes on...some guy with four letters in his name. Cap?
*shrug*
Well put.
Currently in the ring, from Four Rivers, MN, weighing 244 4/4 lbs., the man they call Four! (Four's trademark rock rhythm, distinctive only in the fact that everyone else is using real songs, plays four about four seconds, and I do believe that was a homonymical misspelling back there done four effect. Hey, there it is again!)
His opponent, weighing the weight of a bunch of compressed snow, representing C3PO, here is Woodstock!
(The theme from "Birdman" plays as Woodstock hops out. With a few chirps, he's ready to go)

Four: So wait a sec, I'm supposed to fight this thing? He doesn't even have legs!
Four's question goes unanswered with a wicked twig-slap from Woodstock. Those twig arms, I'm sure, must sting something fierce!
You bet they do, Vince, when I was a little captain my father used to take the twigs to my backside all the time when I tried performing my Superhero Sailpunch on the cat.
But it was worth it, right?
I made it into the business, didn't I?
Four attempts a chokeslam...he just got his hand caught inside the snow! Woodstock is whipping the poor jobber all around the ring, What a Bizarre Display(TM)!
(sound of fans all over the arena making checkmarks on the "Announcer Phrase Bingo" card that came with the programs)
Four: Hey! I'm not a jobber! I'm just on a little losing streak right now.
Sure, whatever. (jobber) Woodstock now getting ready for what looks like a powerbomb...he just stuck Four's head in his belly.
A little bit of an overshoot, it seems like.
Woodstock just leaving Four's head there. I think he intends to freeze Four into submission. The ref is actually coming around now to check on Four. He lifts the arms once...twice....
Wait for it, wait for it...
...FOUR KEEPS THE HAND UP! No, he doesn't.
Here is your winner, as a result of a submission, Woodstock!
An impressive victory for This Up-and-Coming Young Athlete(TM). (more checkmark noises)
And now, for your viewing enjoyment, the STWF proudly presents a six-man mixed tag match - the Ambulance Jockeys and Nurse Heidi battle the Shady Entrepreneurs and Crystal Beth. Kamera Kid caught up with Sweet Candy Andy and Crystal Beth, let's take you to that now.

KK: Candyman! Your comments regarding the six-person tag coming up at SUPERCARD V?
Sweet Candy Andy: Yeh, those two paramedics ain't nuttin' but scrubs in scrubs. Me an' Rimshot, we gonna take care of bidniss, Shady style!
Crystal Beth: When'sthematchIcan'twaitlemmeat'emlemmeat'em I'mgonnamopthefloorwiththatslut'shairan'... (suddenly stops and starts blinking really slowly) I...I think I need to lie down. *slump*
KK: And there you have it...back to the booth.

This six-man mixed-tag match is scheduled for one fall. Making their way to the ring, weighing some irrelevant amount because Rimshot's legs are fake...the Shady Entrepreneurs and Crystal Beth!
("Taking Care of Business" plays as Sweet Candy Andy struts down, Rimshot hobbles down as best he can, and Crystal Beth sprints like a racehorse. Actually, she's more of a pony girl...)


Yes, it's a PPV, but that doesn't mean it can't be rated TV-14.

Their opponents, representing the Head Trauma Club, weighing an amount I'm not allowed to say because Nurse Heidi doesn't want people doing the math to find out how much she weighs, here are the Ambulance Jockeys and Nurse Heidi!
(The theme from ER plays as the three enter. They soak in the cheers, while she secretly knows they're all for her. After all, it's about about Hei-DI...)

***bell rings.
The Shady Entrepreneurs are sending out Crystal Beth to start...might as well get her while she's on an upswing. Garry "the Gurney" Greene to start for the Jockeys. Crystal Beth is going berserk all over the Gurney! European uppercut, jawbreaker, and oh my, a fisherman's suplex!
A CrystalPlex?
If that works for you...Garry "the Gurney" Greene is reeling from the onslaught! He tags in Nurse Heidi.
Ooh hoo, catfight, baby, iiyeah!
Hey, you're here. And you won a match. I'm amazed.
Just lucky that Broadway snapped, I guess. Pretty fine-lookin' coat, though.
Nurse Heidi pulling Crystal Beth by the hair and whips her halfway across the ring! Now they're rolling around on the canvas!
Crowd: Owww! *whistle* Yeah!
How do they get in unison like that?
Crystal Beth is winding up for a big punch...and slows down immensely. When it makes contact it's barely a tap.
Wow, that quick, huh?
Crystal Beth is either up or down and never in between.
Sweet Candy Andy is begging for the tag. And there it is! Took long enough, though. Sweet Candy Andy is beating on Nurse Heidi, what a terrible action this is! What would cause a man to hit a woman like this?
Sweet Candy Andy: How else you think I get my money from my b<-BLEEP->ches?
I think he's put you away, Vince.
Yes, I believe so. His Royal Sweetness put Heidi in a hammerlock...Heidi with the Great Equalizer!(TM)
Why are there so many damn groinshots nowadays? Is that the only weakness everyone has now?
Honestly! Hasn't anyone ever heard of a cup?
Barry Brown has been tagged in. Big earringer to Sweet Candy Andy. And there's an atomic drop.
Enough of the groinshots!
That's exactly what Sweet Candy Andy deserves.
Hey, just because you didn't need him to find an extramarital affair doesn't mean you have to malign him for the business he provides!
YEAH! Uh...not that I'd know or anythin'...
Sweet Candy Andy tags in Rimshot. Barry unrelenting, he puts on a Russian legsweep that literally sweeps away Rimshot's prostheses! He's legless and in the ring!
A problem to be sure for this former manager turned wrestler.
Rimshot's practically helpless in that ring. Barry wastes no time in getting the pin: 1...2...no! Not yet. Rimshot flailing around like a fish out of water, but Barry tries again. No leg to hook: 1...2...3!
Here are your winners, the Ambulance Jockeys and Nurse Heidi!
The Ambulance Jockeys carrying Nurse Heidi on their shoulders as they go off to celebrate. Andy leaves with Crystal Beth, leaving a distraught Rimshot in the ring.
*POOF*
What the? It's Presto Cadabra, former STWF superstar!
But he dudn't even WORK for dis comp'ny!
Presto: What are you doing, boss, wrestling like that? Everyone knows that your job is as manager. Your place is in your wheelchair drumset, not the circled square.
Rimshot: But the Entertainment Industry is split up, ya mug. Go off and do your magic with Per und Tellenn and leave me here to sulk.
Presto: No. It's happening again. We're being called, boss, and I'm collecting you. Time for the Industry to do what it does best.
Rimshot: Break backs?
Presto: And make a few bucks while we're at it! We need you, but not in the STWF. We're hitting another place.
Rimshot: Well let's go, then. We just got too hip for the room.

(With that, Presto Cadabra picks up Rimshot and disappears in a cloud of smoke, which probably means they disappeared through a trap door in the mat.)
Looks like this spells the end of the Shady Entrepreneurs now that Rimshot's gone.
Zzzz...huh? Did I miss anything important?
Not in the least.
Okay, coo'.
After all this boredom, we could use some more celebrities to perk this up!
(Cut to a circular window, which opens to reveal Isaac Washington from the Love Boat)
*pointing to camera* THIS calls for a...
(Men in white lab coats come behind him and put a hypospray to his neck. He crumples.)
(Crowd cheers loudly)
Well, that was fun, but I was referring to the upcoming three-Aussies-one-Brit team match: Jacko and Steve Irwin take on Paul Hogan and OddJobber. I've just been told that this match will be in no-tag format: it will feature all four competitors in the ring at once!
B-b-but all dem guys are nuts!
Yeah, isn't it great?
This contest is scheduled for...absolute mayhem! First, our celebrity Aussie team... washed-up Energizer commercial guy "Jacko" and Animal Planet headcase Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter!
("Safety Dance" by Men Without Hats plays. Jacko has a pen, ready to sign autographs. He has no takers. Steve Irwin is bringing a crocodile on a leash.)
Their opponents, the Brit-Aussie connection, OddJobber and "Crocodile Dundee" Paul Hogan!
(The acid rock James Bond theme plays. OddJobber enters wearing his bowler hat, shades and soiled motto T-shirt. Paul Hogan is right behind him, wearing a T-shirt that says "Now THIS is a knife!" with an arrow pointing down.)

OddJobber: Can I have a pancake?
(Crowd cheers)

OddJobber trying to win over the crowd with his catchphrase recognition tactics.
Yo, who are all dese guys? I mean I know OddJobba, but wassup widall the udda guys?
They're from the other side of the world.
'Splainsalot.
***bell rings.
All four men with punches blazing! OddJobber tackling Jacko and getting in a few good shots, and Paul Hogan squaring off with Steve Irwin. Big headbutt by the Crocodile Hunter. OddJobber with a Northern Lights Suplex and Jacko is Reeling From the Effects of THAT One!(TM)
Somebody Call Security!(TM)
Guy in Crowd: BINGO! (groans from the rest of the audience)
Paul Hogan puts a chickenwing submission on Steve Irwin. Steve Irwin reaches the ropes. Jacko and Steve Irwin grab Paul Hogan and Irish whip him into OddJobber! OddJobber and Paul Hogan in a heated argument right now...Paul Hogan tries to explain his case for about three seconds, then gets frustrated and hits OddJobber square across the face.
Yeah, if OddJobber doesn't get it in three seconds, he never will.
Word.
All three Australian celebrities collectively beating on the sole British man in the ring. This is injustice! This is...
One helluva pay-pa-view!
You bet it is! The fans are eating it up! Paul Hogan making the pin, his OWN PARTNER! 1...2...3! He's grabbing a mic...
Paul Hogan: 'Ere are your winners...the 'Stralines! Come on, boys, let's go ou' fer a point. Fostah's, the golden throat chahmah.
The Australian men leaving the ring and OddJobber, once again, defeated in the ring.
You know what they say: Never trust an Australian.
Who says that?
I don't know...New Zealanders?
We need another singles match. And if Lenny "F'n" Dykstra and the Organ Grinder aren't single enough, I don't know who is. This match is for the Old Japan Pro Wrestling Junior Heavyweight Belt! But first, I've just been told there's something interesting just released...hidden camera footage from the Ivory Tower!

(Black-and-white camera shots of DK's office in the Ivory Tower.)
DK: Mrs. Hudson, get in here!
Mrs. Hudson: I'm right here, just off camera, Mein Kommissaar. (she walks into the frame)
DK: That's good. Now, were all my wishes executed? Has Mr. Bat been taken?
Mrs. Hudson: Yes, Lenny "F'n" Dykstra has stolen the bat as per your orders.
DK: Excellent. Make sure he gets a bonus and a belt-push, alright? Relay the message to the booking committee and leave Flush Gordon out of it. No sense tainting Dykstra's image with toilets, it's plenty tainted already.
Mrs. Hudson: Yes, mein Kommissaar but isn't Lenny "F'n" Dykstra, well, opposed to your politics?
DK: Of course not, I can change anyone's politics relative to anyone else's. I think you'll see he'll have gained quite the fan support come SUPERCARD V. And as for the Violent Pacifist, well, I don't think we need to worry TOO much about him. Heh heh heh.
Mrs. Hudson: Okay, mein Kommissaar. What should I do with this package? It's postmarked from Seattle and has a sticker that reads "This is Not a Bomb".
DK: Let StreetMime open it. He won't complain.
Mrs. Hudson: Yes, mein Kommissaar.


I don't believe it! Der Kommissaar actually asking Lenny "F'n" Dykstra to steal Mr. Bat from the Violent Pacifist over this petty feud!
Hell, I coulda toljoo that.
Why didn't you?
Did y'all axe me? No, y'all di'n't.
This contest is for the allegedly non-fictional OJPW Junior Heavyweight Belt. Entering first, from Camden, Maine, representing Faces Inc., and accompanied by J. Fred Kokomo, Jr., here is THE ORGAN GRINDER!
("Shock the Monkey" plays. The Organ Grinder runs to the ring, with the monkey climbing on his back and digging in his paws)
His opponent, from the Lower Lower Deck and representing absolutely nobody, or possibly Der Kommissaar, we can't tell, here is Lenny "F'n" Dykstra!
("We Will Rock You" by Queen blasts over the PA as Lenny runs to the ring holding Mr. Bat. Lifting it high above his head, he calls on the power of Greyskull. No effect. But it was worth a try.)

***bell rings.
Somebody really should have told Dykstra that you can't use the bat in a match!
Unless it's a hardcore match.
Or a bat match.
And this is neither. But Lenny just power-swung the Organ Grinder right in the back! That would have sent him 400 yards if the OG was a small ball being thrown at Lenny at 90 miles per hour.
But the Organ Grinder isn't a good approximation for that.
No, I guess not. The ref is trying to take the bat away from Lenny "F'n" Dykstra but can't get close enough. The Organ Grinder sending his pet monkey after the bat... J. Fred Kokomo has attached himself to Lenny's face now, and Lenny drops the bat, clutching at the monkey and screaming like a schoolgirl. The Organ Grinder picks up the bat. He clips Dykstra in the knee, and the crowd cheers!
Wait, didn't DK say Dykstra was going to get fan support?
Not if he's fighting a member of Faces Incorporated he's not. Dykstra scrabbling to get the monkey off his face. The Organ Grinder puts on a backbreaker! He very gently turns over his opponent and there's a Camel Clutch!
Looks so weird widdat monkey dere. You cain't even tell if Dykstra's in pain!
Oh, I'm sure he's in pain. Lenny grabs the ropes. Now he runs straight into the turnbuckle face first!
J. Fred Kokomo, Jr.: REEEE! REEEEE!
Lenny "F'n" Dykstra has detached the monkey. His face is scarred and bleeding but I do believe he's back in the game!
Took long enough.
Organ Grinder still working that knee. This obviously isn't one of those cases where one hit of the bat is enough to win a match - it's the other kind, where you have to keep working at it...
And de opponent wins anyway.
SHHH! Figure four leglock by the Organ Grinder! Look at the face of Lenny Dykstra! And his hair! All that blood has turned his hair PINK!
Uh, Vince?
And it's so UNIFORM! Look at it, it's PINK! His own blood has turned it PINK!
VINCE! It was pink before the match started.
Really?
Iiyeah.
I wonder what was making him bleed earlier. (Jamal and Cap slap their foreheads)
Dykstra is using the Organ Grinder's momentum against him, he's trying to reverse the Figure Four, and by golly he's done it!
By golly!
The Organ Grinder trying to get to the ropes with all his might! J. Fred Kokomo Jr. pushes the ropes toward the OG and keeps this match going.
Dat took a lot outta both of 'em.
The other one being Dykstra or the monkey?
Just shut up, you're supposed to be the straight man here.
The Organ Grinder going for his patented finisher...the Grinder's Grinder!
Organ Grinder gotta finisher?
I don't believe it either.
He's trying to get it on...Dykstra pushes him off. Big kick to the face of the Grinder. Facebuster by Lenny! Cover: 1....2....no. Organ Grinder is up and trying his finisher again.
Organ Grinder: Submit to my move, you peon!
Lenny "F'n" Dykstra: Listen, I was drunk, if I peed on anything I'm sorry, okay? I'll pay for it.
Organ Grinder: What?

Lenny "F'n" Dykstra with a sunset flip in the confusion! Organ Grinder falls back! The cover: 1...2...3! YES! We have a new OJPW Junior Heavyweight Champion!
But that belt doesn't exist!
Oh please, it says "non-fictional" right on the thing.
Looks like it was Magic Markered on, V.
That's not the issue.
Here is your winner, LENNY "F'N" DYKSTRA!
Lenny holding up his belt with pride and leaving. The Organ Grinder picks up his monkey...and Mr. Bat as a consolation prize.
This isn't going to become a running gag with "Who Has Mr. Bat?" is it? Because that would suck.
Naw it wouldn't, sounds coo'.
I've just been informed that we have results from the SUPERCARD V dark matches, which took place in a civic center somewhere in the outskirts of Los Angeles. And now we must reward their efforts behind the scenes, so here are the recaps.

Gary "the Glutton" Gourmando beat BILL after a submission to Gary's variation on the "Stinky Face" (the difference being it was in the center of the ring). BILL's organs of smell should be back to normal in about three weeks, and he doesn't mind the broken nose nearly as much now.)

Necro Phil made StreetMime submit to the Toxicology. If anyone started making bets as to who would speak first, Helena or StreetMime, we're sorry, you all lost. How much money did we make on that?

Czech Plees defeated the Don't Ask Don't Tell Protection Agency by forfeit - apparently the sailors are only for hire, and nobody could offer them the money they wanted. In an interview, Rear Admiral Dick Groper said "There were just not sufficient funds for those Czechs."

Claude "Lightning Fingers" Leroux kept true to his word - he wore gauntlets attached to batteries for this match. When ThatGuy attempted a Hideous Finger Bite he got the shock of his life. Unfortunately, silly Claude was part of the current and both men were given an in-ring ten count. They'll be fine, singed hair notwithstanding.

The Total Annihilators continued their winning ways, beating the Sickly Brothers cleanly. Well, Blow-Up Betty was used as a foreign object, as was Strep (despite the fact that Strep is American). The Sickly Brothers blamed "that polio bug that's been going around" for their loss.

Wow! Weren't those exciting highlights?
Hey, free parking! I get the $500 pot.
There ain't no pot for Free Parking!
I asked douja the other day and he says there is. So...uh, what was that, Vince? Oh, yeah, real exciting highlights.
Okay, point well taken. The final match of Act I is up next - and it's a triangle match! The Rump Ranger, Captain Obvious and Da Sassy B<-BLEEP->ch...uh, can we please turn off the bleeps for that word during this match PLEASE?
We're getting a thumbs-up from the Seven-Second Tape Delay Guys.
Great.
This contest is a triangle match scheduled for two falls. First, from Butts Corner, Montana, weighing 269 lbs. (big surprise), here is the RUMP RANGER!
(The William Tell Overture plays as he rides in on Glitter)
YOU GO, GLITTER!
Next, from Portland Oregon and weighing 213 lbs., accompanied by Grampa, here is CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!
("Macho Man" by the Village People plays as he runs in)
Hey, look, I'm on a PPV! It's SUPERCARD V!
Finally, from Sassyville (which we believe is in Wyoming), weighing 228 lbs., DA SASSY BITCH!
("Bitch" by Meredith Brooks plays. A man enters in a costume comprised of lots of pink with gold tassels. A chant of "hohhh-mohhh" is started)
I'M NOT GAY! (Crowd laughs)

***bell rings.
Captain Obvious attempts a double clothesline on Rumpy and Sassy. It didn't work.
CapO: It didn't work!
Tank you Cap'n Obvious.
Da Sassy Bitch leaps up in hurricanrana position on Captain Obvious but doesn't complete the move. He's wailing away with forearm shots. It's all a blur of pink and gold up there.
Sounds like Easter at the Twilight household.
...
...
The Rump Ranger gets on the top rope and bulldogs Sassy off of Obvious! Ooh, deft maneuvering there on the part of the Rump Ranger. Any lower and he would have got some head from Obvious.
CapO: He wishes! *F<-BLEEP->*
Okay, I've recovered from that comment now. The Rump Ranger holding up Da Sassy Bitch for a vertical suplex... Captain Obvious bodypresses Rumpy and all three men come crashing in a heap.
It Looks Like a Train Wreck In There!(TM) (groans from audience members who needed that one to complete a line)
Da Sassy Bitch is winding up a big kick to the Rump Ranger's nether regions...
(cut to audience. A man walks across the screen holding a "Ken Thompson Has a Posse!" sign.)
OUCH! Gay or straight, dat's gotta cause some damage, yo!
Who's gay?
SB: I'M NOT!
CapO: Sure you are. *F<-BLEEP->OT* Isn't it obvious?

Sassy has SNAPPED! Swinging neckbreaker on Captain Obvious. Picks him up by the hair... and now...the Sassy Slam! BAM! He hooks the leg: 1....2...3!
Ladies and gentlemen, Captain Obvious has been eliminated!
I don't know what his problem was. You're not gay...um...are you?
SB: ARRGH!
Sassy is behind the Rump Ranger. He's attempting a German suplex. Lifts him up off the ground, but nothing. Tries it again, nope, sorry. One more time also fails.
SB: COME ON! *grunt* I'm not doing this for my own good health you know! *unnh*
Crowd: Ewwww!
It does look rather disgusting given the context.
Rumpy snapmares Sassy. Sassy right up and he does a dropkick and there's a facebuster now!
Can we call dat da Q-factor? Please V V please?
NO! Sassy covers: 1...2...3! I don't believe it, what an upset for that little bitch!
VINCE!
What? That's his name...
Here is your winner, Da Sassy Bitch!
The Rump Ranger is about to leave on Glitter in disgrace, but the Right Hand Man is coming down to stop him!
I wonder what this is all about...
RHM: Rump Ranger, don't you dare go anywhere, because I've got the surprise of a lifetime for you! douja, get down here.
(douja enters over the shoulder of Mittens, who drops him on the floor and gently lays the Undefendable Belt on him)
RHM: Yes, Rump Ranger, YOU have just won the Undefendable Belt! Wear it with pride...um, I mean wear it well.

*GASP* Me? Undefendable Champion? *giggle* Ooh, I don't know what to say! (puts it on) Is it okay? I mean, it doesn't make my butt look too big, does it?
RHM: I'm not looking at your butt if you paid me. Ladies and gentlemen, your NEW Undefendable Champion, the RUMP RANGER!
(Cheers from crowd)
Wow! Rumpy loses a match and becomes a champ. Whass gonna happen next?
Well, we need to take a short intermission and we'll find out afterwards! Until then, this is Angus "Vince" McMadden saying, Ken Thompson has a posse!

And now...the spine-tingling conclusion.

(A black man in a Starfleet uniform and the top of his bald head spraypainted silver is in the ring. It must be Commander Sisqo)
Her head had bumps like a truck, truck, truck
The humans like What? What? What?
Baby beam me up, up, up
All night long...
Let me see Klingong! Bay-BEEE... Klingong gong-gong-gong-GONG.
Baby won't you boldly go?
Baby make your bat'telh GOOO...Bay-BEEE... Kling-gong-gong-gong-gong...

I thought this guy was promoted from Commander.
Yeah, but how many Captains do we really need here?
My question is, why couldn't we get the hottie with the worm in her belly? Man, I'll show HER a worm in the belly.
Because people would expect her to flash her breasts, and DK can't afford that kind of fee. WAIT! The Violent Pacifist is back and carrying Commander Sisqo away! This Is Madness!(TM)
I'd like to remind everyone that we are now playing for the outside square...the outside square.
So who will fill in during the intermission?
The Foz: Did someone sayyyyy fill-inflizmflazm? I'm gonna zozzum blip a little dittysizmooo that I wrote while ripping off that white rapper againeatthepudding.
May I have your attention pleeeeeease! Will the reeeeal Weeeird Harold pleeeeease stand upyousee? 'CauseI'mWeeeeeirdHarold yesI'mtherealHaroldallyouotherWeeeirdHaaaaroldsareflizmflazmflozzumFLIP!
Sowon'ttherealWeirdHaroldpleeeasestandup? Pleeasestanduuuuup? Pleeeeeasestaaaaanduptrythepudding
I'mWeeeeirdHarold yesI'mthereaaaalHaroldallyouoooootherWeirdHaroldsareflizmflazm Haw haw haw!
Sowon'ttherealWeeeeirdHaroldpleeeeasestanduuuup? Pl...
(Security forcibly removes the Foz...again...leading everyone to wonder just how much longer they have to wait before they get to wrestling and quit making fun of guys seen on BET)

RIGHT! First up is the Tiger vs. Mr. Intensity is what should be a battle of great...um...intensity.
This contest is scheduled for...
AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!
Holy cow! The Tiger and Mr. Intensity are already rolling down the aisle in a heated battle! That speed is inhuman!
Think it has anything to do with the rocket boosters attached to Mr. Intensity's feet?
Could be. Here they come, rocketing into the ring!
***bell rings. Mr. Intensity with a momentum-propelled Gorilla Press! The Tiger hits the canvas hard. Intensity with a jumping elbowdrop, and now he's clawing at the Tiger's jugular!
Dis guy's completely freakin' nuts!
He's A Few Bricks Short Of A Load, No Doubt About It.(TM)
The ref taking Intensity off the Tiger. Intensity exiting the ring, and What's He Getting From Under There(TM)?
It Looks Like A Table(TM).
But IS it, though?
Yes.
He's picking up the table as a weapon! But why is he hitting his own head with it?
Because he's intense, yo!
There's a difference between intensity and outright lunacy. The Tiger inching his way forward, looking for a foothold of offense. Mr. Intensity just spit a tooth at him! The Tiger momentarily distracted, Mr. Intensity goes for a piledriver...on himself!
What the hell is going on here?
Dat ain't even physically possible!
But you saw it, right here on pay-per-view! The Tiger picking up Mr. Intensity and YES! There's the Tiger Driver. A cover: 1...2...no! (Crowd groans) You're Not Going To Get Him That Way(TM).
He's going for a Tiger Rack!
Mr. Intensity won't submit! You're Not Going To Get...
Yeah, we heard that one!
Tiger: Then how the hell DO I get him?

Try dumping him out of the ring for a count-out?
The Tiger hammer-throws Mr. Intensity out of the ring, and right onto the iron security railing.
That oughta do it. The ref starts counting:
Nine! Ten!
Yeah, ain't no use in startin' wit' one ta eight.
Here is your winner...THE TIGER!
A hard-fought battle for the Tiger. Mr. Intensity calls for the rappelling hook, sticks it in his neck, and is hoisted away to the rafters.
I don't like the way that skin's stretching there, Vince.
Well, don't look then. Okay, now we have a special Anime Death Match between Bobo Fiendish and Neige Thirteen.
How dis gonna work, yo?
I agree, Vince, how can we have a match that doesn't obey the laws of reality?
With Monstron editing and Chet's skills! We have Bobo and Neige in a soundstage now, and they're ready to go. We could have a Bubblegum Crisis right here tonight!
What?
I don't get it.
***bell rings.
(screen shows both men ready to fight. Their eyes are now as big as teacups)
Bobo sizing up the enemy. He's going for a huge dropkick!
(Screen shows Bobo fixed in place with the background moving rapidly in the other direction)
Right on the money!
Oh...I get it now. Should be interesting.
Neige Thirteen responds with a flying double axehandle! (same effect shown)
Bobo: Thunder...clash...attack! (holds out his hands in bizarre gesture, his mouth an O)
WOW! Look at the bolts of thunder coming from out of nowhere! Neige is stunned. He's getting back up to his feet.
Neige: Super...bubble...deploy! (makes blowing gesture and shoots out bubbles from his mouth)
Why do all dem Japanese think bubbles are such great weapons? Dat's stupid, yo!
I'm not sure but it's quite a common tactic.
Bobo is knocked to his feet! Neige is going for another attack.
Neige: I choose you, Jigglypuff(TM) (Jigly! (throws a red-and-white ball in the air)
Thass it, I'm outie. (throws down his headphones)
Bobo picks up that pink balloon thing and smashes it against a nearby rock! It's fainted, thank God.
So why is it that those stupid things can't die but there's a cemetery in the game?
Shut up! Bobo Fiendish is getting ready for his next maneuver.
Bobo: Ha-DOOOooo-ken!
It's the Street Fighter II blue energy ball thing! Cool! Ohh, Neige jumped over it.
We're stretching the limits of anime just a tad here.
Neige: (making flailing hand movements) I need Megazord power, NOW!
Neige Thirteen is jumping an impossible height to climb into his Megazord!
(Bobo is seen looking up. Nobody really can tell that they're both still the same height and Neige just got into a costume)
What's Bobo doing now? He's pulling out a prism of some kind...he's growing...
Good God! He's become Mechabobo!
That tears it! I'm through!
But...but...get back here! Sigh. Mechabobo shoots red beams out of his eyes and makes a high-pitched cry. The Megazord falls back sparking. But here comes the sword attack! I think that's the one where one hit will do the guy in... NO! But Mechabobo looks to be in trouble. Wait...an aura is surrounding Mechabobo. He might be going for a desperation finisher...
Bobo: shiiiiii-NEEEEEH!
Hey! Some guy just broke into the soundstage and hit Neige with a steel chair? Both Neige and Bobo revert to normal and glare at him.
Bobo: Who the hell are you and why did you do that? You broke the mood!
Neige: Yeah, just when we were getting into it, too. Steel chair? How unoriginal is that?
Attacker: Hey, I'm "the Stallion" James Nethery? Uh...I'm from one of Neige's old feds and, uh, I wanted to make a run-in. I've been planning it for months!
Bobo: (rolling eyes) Uh-huh....
James: Yeah, and, uh, I just figured out that I want Neige back in my fed.
Neige: So you attacked me?
James: Yeah! Come on back! In my fed you won't have to worry about being funny or having good spelling. Because no one else is cabaple of either! I may hate your guts but you're the only one who does anything. My fed needs you, it'll suck slightly less when you're around. Please?
Neige: I'll think about it. Can we finish our match now?
Bobo: Oh, forget it. Can I kick Nethery's ass? That's what I want to do right now.

This is the biggest travesty in the history of the STWF! The only good thing is that we'll never have to care about that James Nethery again.
I'm back. It ended stupidly, didn't it?
Booyeah.
A'ight! Can we get to da nex' match?
Sure.
This is a Candy-on-a-Pole Casket Match. The objective is to reach Candy, who is on a pole, but only after depositing one of your opponents in the casket. Got it? Good. Our first team, the challengers, representing the Three Guys, here are Jean Bannister and Sir Hungalot, PAIN AND PLEASURE!
(Sound effects of whips and moans are heard. Parents are covering their children's ears)
Their opponents, representing Mexico Severely Limited, here are BILLY AND LI'L PEPPY POLAR!
(The Mexican Hat Dance plays. They enter and start doing the face thing by shaking people's hands)

***bell rings.
Jean Bannister and Li'l Peppy Polar to start. Jean cross-checks Peppy right to the buckle! Now he turns the little guy upside down and he's kicking the living daylights out of him!
He's Stomping a Mudhole in Him and Walking It Dry!(TM)
Peppy collapses in a midget-sized heap. Bannister picks up Peppy for a Scoop Slam. He's rolling him over to the casket now...BP makes the save! Jean Bannister tags in Sir Hungalot. Big Sir takes Pepe for a wild ride on the top rope.
Peppy: ¡Ay caramba!
Aw, he'll get used to it.
Peppy falls to the canvas clutching himself. Big Sir rolls Li'l Peppy Polar to the casket. Peppy is holding on to the bottom rope! He swings up and now he's piggybacking the Knight in Latex Armor! Look at that little guy, pounding away at Sir Hungalot's head! And there's a reverse neckbreaker by Peppy! He tags in Billy Polar, and both men wasting no time in rolling Sir Hungalot into the casket. Double team effort! YES! Sir Hungalot is in, it's both men against Jean Bannister now. Billy Polar has to get up to get Candy, while Jean still has to deposit one of Mexico Severely Unlimited in a casket before he can make his ascent.
God, you're not letting us get a word in edgewise today, are you?
Don't ruin this, I'm on a roll. Billy is climbing up that pole, but here comes Jean with a hockey stick. He spears the Lite Death right between the legs, and here comes Billy now.
Groinshots is too popular.
I agrees.
Jean Bannister picks up Peppy, who's kicking, screaming, biting to get out of the hockey player's grasp! To no avail, the bigger man is too powerful now. DUMPED in that casket!
Hey, where did Sir Hungalot go?
Oh, he probably just rolled out of the fake wall in the side. Don't worry, he won't be back. It's a race now, who can get up that pole first? I can tell you one thing, it's not Da Sassy Bitch.
What that supposed to mean, yo?
He's putting a double entendre to climbing poles.
Um...oh. Man, you sick, V! Muss you bring dat inta EVERYT'ING!
Jean Bannister is shimmying up that pole, but Billy Polar is getting to his feet! He leaps up to get Jean's ankle...Jean is hanging on...he kicks Billy off! I think it's over. Candy Cantaloupes is just about ready to return to Pain and Pleasure! YES! There it is!
Billy Polar: NOOO! He has syphilis! Come on, make your own decision!
Candy: You don't have syphilis, do you, Jean?
JB: I've got a LOT of things. But syphilis isn't one of 'em.

Here are your winners...and the NEEEEEW holders of Candy Cantaloupes... PAIN AND PLEASURE!
What a match!
What an ending!
What a rack!
Next up...Homicidal Hank vs. a Mystery Opponent.
Who's the Mystery Opponent?
Yeah, c'mon, spill!
Introducing first, representing the Asylum Alliance...the man who needs no introduction because he's HOMICIDAL HANK! Wait...I think that card's missing something.
("I'm Going Slightly Mad" by Queen plays. Hank comes out and starts some headbanging to the delight of the crowd.)
And his opponent, the mystery is going to be revealed...here he comes!
(A guy comes out holding a sign)

He looks a little small to be the opponent. Oh, wait, the sign says "It's Not Me". He turns the sign around to read "I'm Grady".
Grady? Then that means...
BOOM-CHICK-A-BOOM!
Iss B.F. SACK!
Listen To These Fans!(TM) B.F. Sack is out here and the fans are just eating it up. Sack is hitting the ring and he's doing poses. The fans won't stop cheering!
Alright, already, start the match!
But the fans want more! He's going up on the turnbuckles and soaking it in some more! B.F. Sack is back, folks, and I For One Can't Wait To See How This Affects The Company(TM).
Gee, enough showboating, y'all'd think he was a former Heavyweight Champ o' sumpin'.
He is...
Even more posing in the ring...
Ladies and gentlemen, this match has ended in a TIME LIMIT DRAW!
But I didn't hear the bells ring.
Eeeeeeh...I rang the bells, but the crowd drowned it out...oooooh. Want to lick my lolly? Oooooh....swirly. *slurp*
That's very disturbing. I can't believe that all the time Sack was showboating, we could have seen a match!
Hank: You're telling me! Don't worry, Sack, we'll meet again. Someday. Unless DK doesn't want it to go down, then it won't, unless we decide to defy him in which case...(trails off)
Um...but still, what a comeback for B.F. Sack! Making his return appearance at SUPERCARD V, yessiree. Heh heh. (starts sweating nervously)
I guess that just leaves the title matches. Which one should we do first, tag team or ICCTINACBBIC?
Less do ICCTINACBBIC. Can we really stand three singles matches in a row?
Good point.

This contest is scheduled for one fall. Making his way down the aisle, from Parts Unknown(TM), weighing in at 502 lbs. minus Flatline's weight...COMA!
ONETWOTHREEFOUR
(Coma starts running through the audience. Some cheers, but mostly they're trying to help him get his trunks on. After they succeed, they dump him over the security railing. He just barely makes his way into the ring.)
His opponent, representing the Inner Circle, weighing a toonie, he's the ICCTINACBBIC champion, TYRONE MAYHEM!
("Regulate" by Warren G blasts over the PA. DJ Fled is adding in a remix. Hey, we have to pay him for something.)

***bell rings.
Collar-and-elbow tie-up. Coma with a headbutt. Now a kneelift from the Head Trauma Boy.
Do you know what would happen if the titles would change hands here at a PPV?
No, what? The titles would change hands, that's pretty much it.
Wait...I'm going somewhere with this...no, wait, I forgot, sorry.
Neva ask old geezers ta try an' make insightful analogies.
Word.
HEY! You two respect your elders! Do you want me to take off my belt?
Tyrone Mayhem with an Irish whip on Coma. Coma is locked up in the ropes! I've never seen such entanglement! Tyrone putting in a few shots, but I'm not sure if he can free Coma either!
If Coma's ear gets sheared off here, I'm leaving.
Some ring attendants are coming with cutters for the ring. What does that say on the back of their T-shirts?
It says "Patrickson was here" wit' an arrow pointin' down.
We've really got to talk to that man. Taking advantage of his position like that. Okay, Coma's freed now, and the ring attendants are patching up the ring ropes with duct tape. I sure hope they hold. Tyrone with a 3/4 front facelock bulldog!
Wow! I've never seen such a maneuver in my life!
Are you sure? It's the most popular finisher in the past two years.
I have trouble remembering what happened last week, Vince, don't bug me.
A cover is made: 1....2....kickout by Coma. He's getting up...he's getting worked up into a frenzy! Shaking his head like a horse, stomping around the ring... Tyrone keeps delivering double axehandles but he can't stop Coma! He tries a Smackdown!
Whoa, dat did it.
I don't think Coma saw that one coming at all. He Went Down Like a Ton Of Bricks(TM).
The frenzy stopped dead in his tracks as Tyrone hooks the leg: 1...2...3! A rather abrupt ending there, but a good match nonetheless!
Here is your winner...and STIIIIILLLLLLLL Intercontinental Cruiserweight "This Is Not A Championship Belt But It's Close" champion...TYRONE MAYHEM!
And yet another belt stays in Faces Inc. hands. The rest of the heel groups must be FUMING at that!
Would it have mattered? Coma's also a face.
Well theoretically, but they should still be fuming. The tag team match is ready to go now. It's the Agency defending against the strange pairing of Dr. Sillaconne M. Plants and Luke Warm! Both of the challengers have serious mother issues. Will This Play a Factor In This Match-Up(TM)? Strangely enough, the CHAMPS are in the ring now, with no intro! They might be champs but that doesn't stop them from being scrubs.
Sculder: I take offense to that...
Do you deny it?
Sculder: No, of course not.
Their opponents, from Naples, Italy and Bumbledink, Texas, accompanied by Mama Warm and Mama Plants, they are Dr. Sillaconne M. Plants and Luke Warm... THE MAMA'Z BOYZ! Hey, cool, I can actually pronounce the "z"s.
("Oh My Mama, To Me She Was So Wonderful" plays as the two wrestlers are escorted to the ring. Both mothers are dragging their sons by the ears. Huge crowd pop.)
As long as neither of da muthas wins da tag belts, I'm a'ight widdis.
***bell rings.
Dr. Plants and Mully start things off. And can you imagine these two challengers becoming champs? Can They Co-Exist?(TM) (sound of Barry Brown going "Woo Hoo!" from the third row) Dr. Plants with a big clothesline. Series of kicks from the Dirtiest Boobie Enhancer in Wrestling Today. And quite possibly the only one.
Oh, I've seen a few in wrestling. Although they're not wrestlers, they're just on staff to give routine "maintenance pumps" to the ladies, and be on hand in case something explodes.
That's very nice, Cap. Plants absolutely DOMINANT right now as he lays a DDT to Mully! He covers: 1...2...foot on the ropes.
He Gotta Know His Ring Geography(TM).
Oh, come now, who says that anymore? Do you SEE Jim Ross saying that anymore? Do you SEE the ghost of Gorilla Monsoon anywhere? No!
Cap, calm down. Mully tags in Sculder as both champs start taking closed fists to SMP's head. The ref knows if he DQs them, then they'll stay champs and the fans will take it out of his hide, so he's letting it slip. SMP will just have to take it. The ref asking Mully to get back to her corner now.
She's not moving! The Agency certainly became defiant. I think they finally learned the rules of the game!
Dr. Plants subjected to every broken rule in the book here. Look, the champions are using Steve Irwin's crocodile now.
In direct violation of the "no reptiles at ringside" rule instituted back in '93!
I think crocs are amphibians, yo.
Are they? Oh...well I guess that's alright then.
SMP is getting mauled by the crocodile!
SMP: Damn, what the hell did Paul Hogan say the most sensitive spot was? I KNEW I should have paid attention to the other interviews!
A cover by Sculder: 1...2...no! SMP is going to tag in Luke Warm? Will he do this?
Luke looks reluctant to tag in.
Mama Warm: You be a nice boy and help out your little friend!
Luke Warm: But maaaaaaa...
Mama Warm: I SAID NOW, BOY! (grabs a pinch of hair...beard, of course)
Luke Warm: Owowowowow! (resignedly) Yes, ma.

Luke's been tagged in!
He's confronting that croc...STONECUTTER on the crocodile! STONECUTTER on Sculder! STONECUTTER on Mully! That's all Luke Warm wants to do, he's looking for the tag back!
SMP: This is undignified! Making me do the pin after he does the finisher?
Mama Plants: You'sa go inna dere and you'sa pin tho'sa two agents!
SMP: Mama, please!
Mama Plants: You wanna taste of'a my wooden spoon on you behind right here? I'll'a do it! Now movete!
SMP: *Sigh* Okay, mama.

Dr. SMP goes in there and makes the cover.
I'm not exactly sure who's going to be feeling defeat after this one's over!
A cover, a count, and we have new champs!
Here are your winners...and NEEEEEEEEEEW STWF/MBC/RDWA 3-4-1 Belt Tag Team Champs...THE MAMA'Z BOYZ!
Luke and Sillaconne glaring at each other as they snag the belts. It's just a matter of time before this team falls apart and another team takes over.
You sure? They ain't many good teams out dere...'cept fo' mine, yo.
The two mothers hugging and kissing their sons all over.
Luke Warm: Ma, come on, you'll ruin my image!
SMP: Mama, basta, get off me now!

Here come Luke's sisters, Brianne, Heather and Phil; Brianne starts hugging Dr. Plants. Luke Warm is staring daggers at the guy! As they leave the area, the audience can only wonder when that clock hits nuclear midnight.
Only two matches left!
Booyeah!
This contest is for the STWF North American Championship. Introducing first, the challenger, from Parts Forgotten, representing C3PO, here is douja!
VO: I say "JUMP!" Then you say, "How high..."
("How High" plays as douja meanders down with a purple haze on his brain and the NA belt on his mind.)
His opponent, from Seattle, Washington, weighing 330 lbs., he's Violent, he's a Pacifist, he's the Violent Pacifist!
("Closer" by NIN plays as the Violent Pacifist runs to the ring with the North American belt firmly in both hands. He runs down douja with it.)

***bell rings.
The VP looks ready for a fight as he just mowed down his opponent before the bell. douja is up, Shaking Off The Cobwebs(TM), throat punch by douja! That'll Even The Playing Field Just A Bit(TM).
It either does or it dudn't! You can't EVEN sumpin' a BIT!
Okay, okay, maybe it didn't, are you happy now?
Look at this! A reverse chinlock in the middle of the ring!
This early? Why did douja call to receive a rest hold? I mean...the VP trying to wear him down with submission moves, that's a good strategy. douja giving a thumbs-up and patting VP on the back as the Pacifist helps him up.
That wadn't a very heelish t'ing to do.
Remember, he's still a Pacifist.
The Violent Pacifist with a vicious lariat on douja! And now there's a big legdrop. What differentiates it from a regular legdrop? I don't know.
The fact that it's big! Don't you know anything?
I see. Well, you've got me there. Sunset Flip by the Violent Pacifist. douja goes down...1...2...legpincers on the ears by douja to break the pin.
I t'ink we could see douja win dis belt tanite!
Here comes Billy Polar with a handful of dust! He gets up on the apron, ready to blow it in the VP's eyes! Irish whip by douja to the opposite ropes. Here comes VP...he sees Billy Polar and gets ready for it. Oh, the Violent Pacifist just blew the dust in Billy Polar's own eyes! BP is blinded and crawling on the ring floor.
An ineffective interference if ever I've seen it.
douja with a series of chops. VP goes for a pump-handle slam! Look at the Strength of That Athlete(TM)!
It's finisher time. douja is being rested on the top buckle. The Nine Inch Nailer!
He makes a cover. But where's the referee? The Ref Is Being Distracted(TM)! Woodstock is on the outside chirping.
Ref: I think he's trying to tell us something! What's that, boy? Timmy's in trouble at the old well?
Here comes Neige Thirteen! He just smashed that hare-loom carbon graphite Neigeboard over the Violent Pacifist's noggin! The VP is down! And what's worse, a sliver from that pencil-lead board got lodged in his scalp and he's bleeding! Neige rolling douja over onto the fallen champion.
Oh, NOW the ref turns around.
1...2...Oh God, douja's just become champion with help from his stablemates!
Here is your winner...and NEEEEEEW North American Champion, douja!
C3PO run off with the belt before the Heelside Stranglers come looking for them.
(The Monstron shows them entering a Hummer and driving off. Pain and Pleasure are trying to chase them, but without a car it's futile. They just stand and start shaking their fists.)
Who's Driving That Hummer?(TM)
*GROOOOAN*
The Violent Pacifist getting up, his face crimson. As soon as he gets to his feet the crowd start cheering. VP is stunned! He wasn't expecting a crowd reaction like that.
Oh, crowds always cheer bleeding wrestlers.
This is true.
And now...the event you've been waiting for. Or maybe not. This is the match for the long-vacated STWF Intergalactic Championship! (cheers) First, accompanied by Bea Arthur, weighing 281 lbs., VIRAGO!
("You Could Have Been a Lady" by April Wine plays as Virago enters the ring. Bea Arthur is sporting a circular blood vessel in her eye. I sure hope that goes away.)
Her opponent, from Portland Oregon, weighing an amount that could cause a Big Hurty indeed, representing C3PO, here is MITTENS!
(Mittens doesn't appear)
I said HERE IS MITTENS! MITTENS THE MANNERLESS! COME ON OUT!

Virago is asking the ref to start counting. Wait! Mittens is under the ring, he's about to blindside Virago!
Sweet mother of mercy, he just chokeslammed her from behind!
***bell rings.
We must have a champion crowned here tonight, this match will only end in a pinfall or submission! And we know the rest of C3PO have left the building so this is going to be a fair fight. Virago is being pulled up by her hair. Virago with an uppercut and a Viragocanrana! Now she's straddling Mittens and Slapping the Taste Out Of His Mouth!
What taste would that be? Fish?
You! Out of the booth!
What?
You know perfectly well what. Mittens is up now, he applies a backbreaker! Now he executes a DVD!
I prefer laserdiscs myself. I think that technology is really going to take off! And how about that Internet thing? I'm sure that within ten years, at least 10% of all Americans will be on it.
The cover: 1...2...no. Wait, what's Virago doing with her breasts? My GOD!
(Cut to extended crowdshots. One has a sign which reads "Hogan puts the FUN in F.U.N.B." The STWF Thought Police are taking him away as we speak.)
That's only prompted Mittens to do the unthinkable!
Not...the McHurty Slap Deluxe!
(Cut to even more extended crowdshots. Bea Arthur is hitting on "Violent" Vinnie Mansbridge, who sure wishes he'd cut a promo now.)
Wait! Virago is down! Mittens is applying the Glove! Virago submits! We have a new champ!
Here is your winner...the NEEEEW Intergalactic Champion, MITTENS!
(He lifts up the belt as "Intergalactic" plays over the speakers.)

As Mittens does some showboating, and we get more sparklers and road flares, this show comes to a close, and WHAT A NIGHT IT'S BEEN!(TM)
Guy in Crowd: BINGO!
Hey, congratulations, you win a Czech Plees burlap T-shirt and dinner with Miss Chlamydia. Aren't you lucky?
Guy in Crowd: Um...sure.
So for Captain Twilight, Jamal Tupac Mustafa, and myself, this is Angus "Vince" McMadden saying, go get hammered and discuss this one in the chat rooms tomorrow! Goodnight!
©2000 Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre