Thursday Something or Other - Who Books this Crap?
(The show opens with a shot of some guy's chest. The
camera zooms out . . . oh, my lord! That's not a guy! It's Virago!
We're using "HER" for sex appeal? Who makes these decisions, anyway? I
may never get aroused again, thanks to the braintrust in the Ivory Tower.
Anyway, she's walking around backstage
Welcome to TSO, everybody! As you see, Virago looks determined and quite
manly. She has something on her mind. What could it be? Well, just
wait until after the opening credits, and we'll tell you!
(Opening credits and graphics roll, with a decent
amount of pyro by STWF standards. I know, I know - that's not saying
much. The interior of the arena is shown, along with some signs: "I miss
B.F. Sack," "Stereotypes Rule, Copp Drools," and "We (heart) the Rump
Ranger . . . not that there's anything wrong with that" are shown. A
section of empty seats is shown with the banner, "Neige Thirteen Fan
Club." The camera then pans to a shot of your announcers for the evening;
Angus "Vince" McMadden, Captain Twilight, and Jamal Tupac
Mustafa.
SUPERCARD V is just days away, and as we saw moments ago, Virago seems to
be up to something...
"You Could Have Been a Lady" by April Wine plays over
the speaker system. Virago comes out to a big pop, but not as big as her
Adam's apple. The camera shows a sign in the audience that reads,
"PLEASE SHAVE."
VIRAGO: Cut the music. You know, people have been saying for a while
now that I am lucky to be getting a shot at the IG belt. The people in
this company don't think I belong in the title match because I'm a
WOMAN!
(The crowd is stunned . . . to find out she's a woman)
Hey, Cap. You owe me fi' dollas, yo.
What does "IG" stand for?
VIRAGO: This all-boys club apparently doesn't want me as a member.
Well, I say that I can kick the a<-BLEEP-> of any man in this company! In
fact, I think that this company has been without a champion for too long.
Therefore, Mittens, I say - why wait until SUPERCARD? Let's fight for
the title . . . TONIGHT!
(Crowd pops, because crowds always pop for unexpected title
matches.)
How about THAT, fans? The Intergalactic Title on the line...
How do you figure? The Intergalactic Title is
still vacant.
"Smooth Operator" by Sade interrupts as Doctor
Silaconne M. Plants strolls out, accompanied by the Head Trauma Boys and
Nurse Heidi. The crowd boos loudly for the over heel.
DR.SMP: You know, Viagra . . . whatever . . . the way I look at it,
you and I have some unfinished business! So, I want a match with you
TONIGHT!
(Crowd pops, but they're having increasing difficulty following the
sequence of events)
DR.SMP: You already know you'll have the shot at the title at Supercard,
so why not settle the score between us first? Or . . . do you not have
the BALLS to fight me?
VIRAGO: Hey, everybody knows I have the BIGGEST balls in this
company...um, what I mean is...
DR.SMP: No, no. You're right - that's why I know you'll take me on
tonight.
VIRAGO: Bring it on! You can't handle THIS! (Virago starts to pose
and flex, and of course press her breasts together, much to the dismay of
all of the heterosexual males in both the audience and in the back. The
Rump Ranger seems strangely unaffected.
SMP: *gag* Okay, then. *dry heave* I'll see you later tonight!
Fans, we'll see that match later tonight! What a great unexpected bonus
to the already action-packed TSO card! Tonight on this program, the team
of Pain and Pleasure takes on Czech Plees. Then, at the TOP OF THE
HOUR(tm), as you just heard, Dr.Plants will hook it up with Virago...
so to speak. Next, Bobo Fiendish will battle douja of C3PO
(pleasedon'tsueusMr.Lucas)! Finally, in our exciting main event, Luke
Warm will challenge the Violent Pacifist for the North American
Heavyweight Title!
DAMN -that's good show!
All of that, plus Captain Twilight has been mixing his medications again!
We'll be right back.
GUY WITH A BRITISH ACCENT: Proe-moe-ssional
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about the great d-deals you can get here at Otto's Ottoman Emporium.
W-we are dedicated to giving you the best. D-deals. That you will
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place to put your feet up... you can c-count on us. *fake
smile*
And we're back. Time for our opening bout of the evening as Czech Plees
takes on Pain and Pleasure.
I sho' could use some fried chicken and watamelon
right about now, yo.
DAMN - That's stereotypical!
This bout is scheduled for one fall. Making their way
to the ring at this time, at a combined weight of 431 pounds, here are
CZECH PLEES!
("The Plzener Polka" plays, featuring accordion by Franz Plee and Walter
Ostanek. Bretislav and Jan make their way to ringside. Little crowd
reaction.)
And their opponents, at a combined weight of 245 pounds plus
250 pounds, here are Jean Bannister and Sir Hungalot - PAIN AND
PLEASURE!
("Rock and Roll Part 2" by Gary Glitter plays. The problem is, "Love
Roller Coaster," by the Ohio Players is also playing. These guys need
some team intro music. Anyway, Pain and Pleasure make their way to the
ring to a modest pop.)
***bell rings.
Bretislav and Hungalot set to start things off. Armdrag by the Czech.
Bretislav now pummelling Hungalot!
Dag!
Hey! I thought them foreigners were just going to
lay down. I guess not.
Bretislav continuing the assualt. Vertical suplex! Running legdrop!
Pickup by Bretislav . . . he tags in Jan . . . SPIKE PILEDRIVER!
Holy sh<-BLEEP->!
A cover by Bretislav - one . . . two . . . THREE! What an upset!
What, an upset?
Here are your winners - CZECH PLEES!
Wait a sec . . . even in my drug-induced fog, I
can tell that something's not right here.
Jean Bannister is furious with the official, and is making his
case. Meanwhile, Czech Plees is celebrating as they make their way back
down the aisle. The referee conferring with the Creepy Timekeeper.
This unbelievable, yo.
Do you realize that that so-called "sentence" had
no verbs, Mister Blackie?
Whateva, Captain Cracka.
Let's go backstage, where Kamera Kid is with Czech Plees - it looks like
the boys are celebrating their first victory here in the STWF!
(Camera shows the backstage area where the Plee
Brothers are gleefully covering each other with "plzener.")
And now... Hungalot is roughing up Announcer Lad and the official.
May I have your attention, please? The referee has
ruled that Bretislav was NOT the legal man, and, therefore, could not make
a cover for the pinfall. The match . . . will . . . CONTINUE!
(The crowd seems sluggish at best. They weren't really aware that the
match had started in the first place.)
Wow, and how about that, Cap?
Hmm . . . an interesting turn of events or a way
to drag out a match nobody cares about, anyway? You be the
judge.
The official beginning his count, now.
(Counting on his fingers) One...two...three...four...five...
(Cut to the back, where the brothers shout something in Czech, and begin
to run to the ring)
Czech Plees had better hurry, the referee is running out of fingers!
Eight... nine... TEN... eleven...
God bless our inbred referees here in the
STWF!
And here comes Czech Plees!!!
Czech Plees slips and falls onto the entry ramp,
wallowing in a pool of beer . . . and tears.
FOURTEEN! Ring the bell!
***bell rings.
Here are your winners, by countout - PAIN AND
PLEASURE!
What an exciting way to start off a TSO! What action!
(Captain T and Jamal glare at McMadden)
Aaaaaaanyway... the TOP OF THE HOUR(tm) is close at hand, and you know
what that means...
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
Shut tha f<-BLEEP-> up, you old
mutha-f<-BLEEP->a!
That's right - Virago vs. Dr.SMP!
(A split-screen view is shown - Virago is doing pushups, while Dr.SMP
is drinking a martini. As we go to commercial...)
Coming this Friday - this station presents a very special Afterschool
Special...after school. On Friday. (offscreen slap is heard followed
by a whispered "Run the clip!"
(A son is sitting with his parents in their living room.)
MOM: Son, we have something to tell you.
DAD: This is very hard for us to say, son.
SON: Go ahead, mom and dad, I can take it.
MOM: Son, I don't know how to tell you this, but... y-you're gay!
SON: What?!
DAD: I know this is difficult for you to accept, son, but we'll all
learn to deal with it.
SON: But, Dad, I like girls! Honest!
DAD: Look, don't make this any harder than it already is.
SON: Remember my girlfriend Katie? How do you explain that? The
evidence is clearly on my side.
MOM: Dammit! We've had enough trouble accepting this, why can't you
just learn to live with it? WAAAAAAAH! (Mom runs from the room
crying)
A very special program you and your family won't want to miss. Sponsored
by the GLAAD and Chubby's Exotic Bar.
(Back from break, a graphic is displayed on the screen
that says, "This just happened." A slow-motion replay of the referee
counting is shown.)
And that's the way it was in our opening bout. Now, let's
head to the ring, where Announcer Lad has some stuff to say.
The following contest is scheduled to kick a<-BLEEP->.
Entering first, from Androscoggin County, Maine, weighing in at a
monstrous 281 pounds, here is VIRAGO!
("You Could Have Been a Lady"
by April Wine plays as Virago comes out to a reluctant but somewhat
substantial pop.)
"Her" opponent, from Naples, Italy, weighing 240 pounds, DOCTOR SILACONNE
M. PLANTS!
("Smooth Operator," by Sade, plays. The Doctor comes out to
big time heel heat)
What a matchup! And right before a pay per view!
*Points to Jamal* I'll sell you this slave for
40 dollars!
You betta shut tha f<-BLEEP-> up!
Slave, slave, slave, slave, slave, pave, pave,
pave, dave, dave, dave'snothereman.
Again, we apologize, but I'd like to reiterate that instead of his
regular medication, Captain Twilight accidentally drank a mixture of
Drain-Oh and Pahpp Rokks (Curse the lack of brand names!)
How much does a mofo hafta do befo' he gets
fired?
Good question. You might want to ask Neige Thirteen that. SMP taunting
Virago now. Virago seems unimpressed. They lock up. Arm drag takedown
by Virago. Reverse chinlock applied. SMP gets to the ropes.
Ropes is good fer tyin'!
Right. Whip to the ropes by SMP . . . powerslam! Picks up Virago, whips
her into the corner. He climbs up and begins to punch her as the crowd
counts along . . .
CROWD: Mumble...mumble...mumble...
Not a smart crowd, yo.
Indeed. OH! LOW BLOW OUT OF NOWHERE FROM VIRAGO! And SMP is down.
You ever notice how when you get hit in the sack,
it hurts in your lower abdomen? I said boom-chick-a-boom.
Can't somebody do something about this? Wristlock applied by Virago . .
. reversal by SMP . . . big clothesline! Pickup by SMP . . . atomic
drop!
See, I bet Virago's abdomen hurts right now!
Still, I like his spunk!
SMP in control now... whip to the ropes... swinging neckbreaker!
And now... he's going up top for the Breast Implant! No... he thinks
twice about it as Virago gets to her feet. Virago on the offensive now
with lefts and rights... scoop slam by Virago... she goes for a senton
splash, but SMP rolls out.
That muthaf<-BLEEP->a sneaky, yo!
SMP covers Virago . . . one . . . two . . . kickout. Picks her up . . .
PILEDRIVER! NOW he's going up top . . . HE HITS THE BREAST IMPLANT!!!
That's just what the doctor ordered!
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
It's academic . . . one . . . two . . . THREE!
Here is your winner . . . DOCTOR SILACONNE M.
PLANTS!!! (The crowd boos loudly)
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Enough, already! Coming up next, Bobo Fiendish takes on C3PO's
(pleasedon'tsueusMr.Lucas) douja! But first . . . *puts two fingers to
his headset and squints* I'm being told that something is going on in
the back!
(The camera cuts to the back, where an oiled-up Luke
Warm has arrived and is walking intensely around the backstage area. He's
wearing a leather vest with the letters "J.J.J.S." on it.)
Luke Warm has arrived! What can this mean? We'll be right back!
(The crowd pops when they see the megaface on the Monstron.)
(Three children are seated at a table looking hungry)
BLACK KID: I'm hungry!
ORIENTAL KID: I'm hungry, too!
KID IN A WHEELCHAIR: Me, too!
(The Foz struts in)
THE FOZ: How's it go-ING, kidsflizm?
ORIENTAL KID: We're hungry!
THE FOZ: Then why not TRYYYYYYY a Luke-HOOOOOOOOOOO
puddingpopyouseeittastessogood?
(The Foz hands out a pop to each kid, who each begin to eat and enjoy the
delicious snack)
THE FOZ: Theeeeeese pops have nutrients to make the kiiiiiids
growmujism, and sugaaaaaarrr which the kids liketoeatbuyapuddingpop.
BLACK KID: These are great, Foz! Nothing beats Luke-Hoo!
ORIENTAL KID: Can I have another one? I think eating them makes me
smarter!
FOZ: Flozzum-flip! *Mugs for the camera* Haw haw haw!
(Fade-out as the other kid begins to rise out of her wheelchair . . .
thanks to Luke-Hoo!)
And we're back! Speaking of back, let's go to the back, where Luke Warm
seems to be fired up about something! Back!
Cut to the BACK, where Luke Warm is storming down
the hall. He spots a door marked "STWF Booking Committee," and he barges
in. Several nerdy guys, plus Patrick "the Finger" Patrickson and Flush
Gordon, bleat like sheep and scatter at the sight of Luke Warm . . . and
they aren't wearing pants for some reason. Luke shuts the door and turns
to the camera...
Luke Warm: Hey, Violent Pacifist . . . *Luke points to his jacket*
. . . the "J.S. stands for Jingleheimer Schmidt. I'll let YOU figure out
what the "J.J." stands for, brah! Watchagonnado VP, when LUKAMANIA lays
the SMACKDOWN because LUKE WARM said so? And that's the lower lattitude!
Out of my way, Kamera Kid! I'm coming to get my title, VP!
(Cut back to the announce table)
Another barely coherent yet intimidating interview by the bald-headed
Texan. Back to the ring, now, as we're ready for our next matchup.
The following contest is scheduled for one or eight
falls, whichever comes first. Making his way to the ring at this time,
from . . . sigh. . . I promised myself I would never say this . .
. PARTS UNKNOWN, and weighing 335 pounds, here is BOBO Q. FIENDISH!
(A midi theme song plays, and Fiendish comes out to solid heel heat)
And his opponent, representing C3PO (pleasedon'tsueusMr.Lucas), from
Parts Forgotten, weighing 245 pounds, here is DOUJA!
Voiceover: I say JUMP! Then you say, "how high..."
"How High" plays. douja stumbles to the ring accompanied by some decent
heel heat, and a few cheers from some dropouts in the cheap
seats.
Another great matchup for a pre-PPV card, wouldn't you say, Jamal?
Yeah, fo' the card right befo' the big one, this
is aiiight!
Angus, angus . . . during the next commercial,
help me kill Jamal. Then we'll have the show all to ourselves, just like
the old days!
I can HEAR yo' a<-BLEEP->, yo!
Pipe down, ink spot!
Will you two knock it off! There's a match going on, and as the
announcers, we have a job to do . . . hype the hell out of the PPV! So,
make sure you call your cable company today! Of course, in most parts of
the country, you won't be able to order the PPV until 45 minutes before
it starts, but you could always just call the cable company to, you know,
see how it's going.
I know who the Mystery Wrestler is!
Keep your mouth shut. Douja and Bobo exchanging punches. Collar and
elbow tieup. Rake to the eyes by Fiendish. European uppercut.
Backbreaker!
This Bobo fella is an impressive young
athlete!
Young? Bobo? How much Drain-Oh did you drink, anyway? Well I guess when
you're inching up on 84 anybody's young. I will agree on the impressive
athlete part, though. Bobo is well on his way to stardom in the STWF.
Bobo applying a half-crab here. And . . . douja able to get to the
ropes.
Nice ring awareness by douja. Awareness is
usually one of his weaker points.
Look who's talking, yo.
Was that the one where the dogs
talked?
What?
What?
Back to the action now, douja on the offensive. Whip to the ropes...
belly to belly suplex! Sleeper hold applied by douja.
That may be his only hope here - he's giving up
over 100 pounds to Bobo!
Bobo seems to be weakening . . . NO! Wait! Bobo standing up now,
carrying douja on his back . . . gets him off of his neck . . . BIG
Gorilla Press Slam!!!
He may finish him off right here,
youknowwhatI'msayin?
Indeed I do. Oh, but an eye poke from douja sends Bobo reeling . . .
douja going for a rolling clutch pin . . . BUT FIENDISH REVERSES IT INTO
A POWERBOMB! No need to hit the finisher here . . . a cover - One . . .
two . . . three!
Here is your winner, BOBO Q. FIENDISH! (The crowd
boos)
We gots trouble!
Right you are, Jamal - here comes Neige Thirteen and Mittens, and they
are PUMMELING Bobo!!!
Wait a second, wait a second, here come some
other wrestlers!
Homicidal Hank and Dr.SMP running to the ring now, and a Pier Six Brawl
has broken out in the ring!
Jeez! Too many wrestlers! Information overload!
Also, for those of you who don't know, a Pier Six Brawl is just a big
melee in the ring.
No sh<-BLEEP->.
Well, not everybody knows that. Ahem.
At any rate, all the men are going at it in the ring...
(The sound of stuff breaking is heard over the PA
system, which immediately induces a monster pop from the crowd. They also
salivate if you play the sound of a can opener.)
HERE COMES LUKE WARM! Luke Warm clearing the ring now. A STONECUTTER
for Mittens! A STONECUTTER for Hank! A STONECUTTER for Bobo! SMP
throws Neige Thirteen out of the ring. And now, only SMP and Warm remain
in the ring . . . and they are throwing some serious death-stares at each
other here!
Can these two learn to coexist in their new tag
team? The suspense is killing me! We've never seen anything like this
before in wrestling history! I mean, a tag team where the partners don't
like each other? That's UNHEARD of!
Onto what is sure to be an exciting main event, as
Luke Warm takes on the Violent Pacifist for the STWF North American
Title.
The following main event is scheduled for one fall.
Already in the ring, from Bumbledink, Texas, weighing 255 pounds, here is
the challenger, LUKE WARM!
(Another huge pop for the Texan megaface. Warm responds by climbing each
turnbuckle and flashing the double thumbs-up.)
His opponent, from Seattle, Washington and weighing 330
pounds, the STWF North American Champion for God knows how long, THE
VIOLENT PACIFIST!
("Closer," by NIN plays. Trent Reznor is the Anti-Christ! I have proof!
Strong reaction from the crowd)
The Violent Pacifist? What's HE doing here? He
doesn't even WORK for this company!
Cap, the Violent Pacifist is the North American Champ. Of COURSE he works
for this company!
Oh, I know that. But we're required by federal
law to say that at least once per broadcast, and this is our last match,
so the pressure was on.
Federal law? Oh, yeah. The Tenay-Hudson Bill of 1999. I remember it
well. Here we go. Luke Warm and VP circling each other. Boot to the
midsection by the Pacifist. Fireman carry takedown. Picks Warm up. One
handed scoop slam! How about that power, Cap?
*singing* I've got the powah!
Uh, ok. Whip to the ropes by VP . . . bulldogs Luke down!
VP dominatin', yo!
That he is, Jamal. Looks like he's going for a powerbomb here . . . NO!
Luke reverses it into a back body drop! Running elbowdrop by Luke!
Going for another one . . . OH! Sneak low blow by the Pacifist!
Pacifist back in control now, whip to the ropes . . . STONECUTTER OUT OF
NOWHERE!!!!!!!!! Pacifist is down! Luke Warm is, too, though.
That low blow stagga'd his a<-BLEEP->!
Wait, who's that?
Lenny "F'n" Dykstra has jumped out of the crowd, and has grabbed Mr.Bat.
He's getting into the ring! The ref trying to stop him, but without
success! He's beating VP silly with Mr.Bat! And the referee is calling
for the bell!
***bell rings.
Your winner, by disqualification, and STILL the STWF
North American Champion . . . THE VIOLENT PACIFIST! (Crowd
boos)
Luke Warm is LIVID! And there's a STONECUTTER for Dykstra!
(Luke Warm
storms to the back, accompanied by the sound of stuff breaking and a loud
pop)
What a TSO! Or something.
And jus' think - if TSO was THIS good, how good
will SUPACARD V be, yo?
Pretty damn crummy, I'll wager. :>
Way to shill, Mustafa. Any final thoughts, Cap?
CUCKOO! CUCKOO! CUCKOO! CUCKOO! CUCK - -
-
(Fade to black)
©2000 Stereo Type Wrestling Federation/Consejo
Stereotypicos de Lucha Libre