Subjects are Overrated

[Dr Silaconne M Plants]

[Dr. Plants is back in his office, working some overtime to make up for losing out on a possible long-term GEICO gig. Somewhere, a hack writer tries to figure out a clever way to insert script dialog where a caveman could say, "How ya doin'?" Nurse Heidi walks in and acts surprised to see the Doc...]

NH: Hey! I thought you weren't getting back from Choloform until tomorrow?

SMP: Got work to do...

NH: I can see that, but I still thought you weren't getting back until tomorrow.

SMP: Had a quick match...

NH: Snapmare Kid didn't put up much of a fight, huh?

SMP: Nah. I said to hell with fan psychology, and instead of telling a story with our ring work, I pretty much bypassed setting up my strategy for devising a way to counter the snapmare, thus rendering his offense totally ineffective...and just squashed his ass with the Med Degree.

NH: The Med Degree? I thought you were saving that for douja, the secret weapon to finish him off once and for all...

SMP: Well, I guess Creative had other ideas. But all is good, a win is a win is a win.

NH: Well, you better be careful doing that. You could tear your quadricep, ya know?

SMP: I know, right!

*they high-five*

NH: So, who do you have in the next round?

SMP: The vampire guy that runs around with Death. I think they jumped me not too long ago... so getting the oppotunity for revenge is a nice little carrot dangling for me. A chance to advance, and a chance for venGEANCE...

NH: Hmmmm. That didn't work...

SMP: How ironic, neither does my next subject...

Axl Van Halen, I see that without a shitty fed for you to run around in and bore everybody with you stay pretty quiet here of late.

You'd think a guy that just won what's considered the second tier championship in this promotion would have PLENTY to say.

But without a constant feed of pin me/pay me guys for you to whallop... you're just as busy on the stick as Ensign Ben Dover has been lately.

NH: Ewww, wasn't that the Navy guy in Don't Ask/Don't Tell?

SMP: I can't say...

NH: Why? I asked...

SMP: You shouldn't have.

NH: But I asked.

SMP: Doesn't mean I have to tell.

NH: Hey now! If you keep that up I'm not going to TELL YOU my surprise I had planned for you for Easter.

SMP: Okay. You have my attention.

NH: I was going to put on my authentic Playboy Bunny® outfit and have you use your magical locator stick to find my hidden eggs.

[Dr. Plants sits there with his mouth agape for several minutes...
when he can muster the strength, he finally speaks.]

SMP: Well, it started off well enough... but the LAST thing I need is a kid.

NH: Practice makes perfect...

SMP: So I've heard. And if I'm to believe the rumors, I think it's safe to say you're an expert.

NH: Well, rumors do tend to get over exaggerated.

SMP: Whatever.

Please let me get back to this promo, then I need to get back to this paper work and later tonight I have to see my lawyer.

NH: Getting sued again?

SMP: Yeah, some lady was pissed because her breasts came out looking like bananas. Can you image the nerve of her? Suing ME? It's ridiculous...

NH: Did you say bananas?

SMP: I told her the yellow tint was just discoloration from the bruising, which you'll get from any surgery, and it would go away soon enough. But she was STILL upset.

I guess it didn't help matters when I put a Chiquita sticker on 'em.

NH: ...

SMP: Yeah, I did.

Anyway....

AXL!

I'm one step closer! Uber Vampire Warrior? You'd be well advised to stay the hell out of my way.

I'm getting to the finals, and if I have to break every rule, interfere in every match, and basically lay a path for Axl... he's going to get to the finals as well.

Then it will be him and I...

... and then he'll find out what's really...

...causing all this.

NH: Do I feel a "WHOO!" coming?

SMP: Should I?

NH: Please don't....

SMP: Okay then. Well, how about this?

GET IT?

GOT IT?

GOOD!

[/u][/center]

[Cut]

[Uncut]

SMP: Heidi? How about getting into that bunny suit?

[Recut]

[Creative]

From: Creative
To: Dr. Silaconne M. Plants
RE: Med Degree

Dear Dr. Plants,

Whoops. Our bad.

Sincerely,
Creative.

[SMP Heidi]

[At the office....]

NH: Hey, Sil? You got a letter from the office.

SMP: Huh? I am the office.

NH: No... the OTHER office. The BOB office.

SMP: *pfffft* You mean they finally taught the simians to compose mail now? And here I thought their only job was to type up shitty events...

...what'd it say?

NH: "Whoops. Our bad". It was re: The Med Degree finisher.

SMP: Any monetary compensation?

NH: You're joking, right?

SMP: I suppose I was. Say, you know what this means? The company knows they SCREWED up!

I can get away with anything for at least a couple of months.

Like, I could say that Axl Van Halen is gay!

NH: You've been saying that... and besides, isn't he?

SMP: I could say that Sir Zeno is a pompous jerk!

NH: Who hasn't?

SMP: Okay then... I bet I could call douja a nappy-headed ho and NOT get a two week suspension! What do you think of THAT?

NH: Guess we'll just have to wait on the memo...

[cut]

[Rev Al Sharpton]

Al: GO RUTGERS!

[Creative]

From: Creative
To: Dr. Silaconne M. Plants
RE: Your Despicable Comments

Dear Dr. Plants,

In the future, please refrain from referring to Creative as "simians." There is now a large contingent, led by the Rev. Mojo, pelting our offices with feces in protest.

Sincerely,
Creative

[SMP et al]

[ Dr. Silaconne M. Plants is again seen in his office...this time joined by Nurse Heidi and long-time friend Necro Phil.]

NH: Well, you got that memo, Sil...

SMP: Oh great. I got suspended for two weeks, didn't I?

NH: Um, no. They just ask that you stop calling the higher ups "simians". It appears that there's now a group of monkeys flinging poop at their office in protest.

SMP: Really? BWAAA HAAA HAAAA! And here I thought it was BAD news!

Necro Phil: Speaking of bad news "BITCHESDICKS!" I heard some *tic* "FARTEATER" good news today. "FUCKER!"

SMP: I see the Tourette's and nervous twitches hasn't cleared up, huh Phil?

NP: No. "FUCKACOCK!" *twitch*

NH: What's the news?

[Phil hits "play" on an old-school cassette player for fear of cursing himself to death.]

"NASSAU, BAHAMAS -- Larry Birkhead is the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby, according to DNA tests, and the late reality TV star's former boyfriend emerged from a court hearing Tuesday to proclaim that his daughter would soon be home.

"I told you so!" Birkhead said as he jubilantly announced the DNA results after the closed hearing. Then he hugged his rival, Howard K. Stern. Smith's lawyer-turned-compan ion has been caring for baby Dannielynn since her sudden death in February."

[Phil hits "stop"]

SMP: HOT DAMN! I'M OFF THE HOOK!

NP: Me too! "BLOODYFUCKCOW!"

*they high five* *Phil jerks*

SMP: Come again? Corpses can't deliver babies, or even get pregnant, Phil. What the hell are you talking about?

NP: I know it was an impossible *tic* shot for "TITTYCLITS!" me to be the father, seeing as how she was "GLORYHOLESUCKER!" passed away... but it sure was fun *spasm* trying. "ASIANHOUSEWIVESSUCKCOCKFORBISCUITS!"

NH: That's really disturbing....

SMP: No, what's disturbing is how you pronounced "Chloroform" during the first promo! HA!

NP: I know, right! "TWOINCHNIPPLEWITHDISCHARGEFUCKER!"

*they high five* *Phil twitches*

NH: You guys suck...

[fade out]

[@xL]

Axl: Hey, chachi, you call me gay again and your head'll be spinnin' faster than Vince McMahon Sr.'s corpse after Wrestlemania 23, babe. I mean, I don't wannna get off on a rant here, but every dime and nickel chump-stain with a contract here in BoB thinks just because a guy's got two or three posters of a half naked Burt Reynolds in his bedroom, it must add up to some horrifying declaration of homosexuallity. In today's society you can hardly SAY anything, much less BE anything, even resembling a gay guy, without some quasi-psuedo-semi-retired veteran legend iconic sports entertainment wrestling SUPERSTAR sticking his nose in your business and giving you his two cents. Well, chachi, I'm here to say... I'm here. I'm not queer. Get me a tequila.

Axl: You want me to rant, chachi? I think Voltaire put it best, when he said 'What goes around, is two in the bush. But forgiveness? That's amoire'.' I guess what I'm trying to say is... I don't want to go off on a rant here, but if it takes one to know one... then you've got one. And you're lookin' right at him.

Babe.

Axl: Now, I'd like to welcome my special guest host, his new book is entitled... Oh, wait what, where am I?

[We find Axl in the bathtub, filled with bubbles, rubber ducky floating about. Axl smirks.]

Axl: Ladies and gentlemen, Dennis Miller!

[Axl reaches into the bubbles... and pulls out a Dennis Miller action figure, with a string attached. Axl pulls the string once...]

DM: Hey, chachi.

[... twice...]

DM: I don't wanna go off on a rant here...

[...three times.]

DM: Live, from New York, it's Saturday Niiiggghhhttt!!!

Axl: You can get this limited edition Dennis Miller doll, plus Chris Rock, David Spade, and Chris Kattan, in the brand new, limited edition Parodyox Brand 'Former SNL stars, turned third-rate Hollywood psuedo-stars' collectors' series! You loved them on late-night tv, before... uhm... sort of noticing they were involved with different projects afterward, which you really didn't... you know, give a shit about, but ANYWAY; BUY IT!!! Parodyox; Because unless you want poor starving children in Ethiopioa to die, you will buy our products. Not like, you know, we're actually going to contribute ANY of our profits to the hungry, but hey... we have guns. And we know how to use them. Wouldn't take us but a few hours to hop a jet and... er... BUY IT!!! Think of the children. You thoughtless bastard.

[Axl tosses the Miller doll across the bathroom, before pulling another product out of the bubbles...]

Axl: This promo has been sponsored by Parodyox Brand Bubble Bath. It's Bubbly Good!!!

[Axl sets the bottle down on the side of the tub, before starting to rise up. When he does, it's apparent that something's amiss. More specifically, the fact that the entire lower half of Axl's body is now purple.]

Axl: ACK!!! What in the-

- cut -















[We re-open, this time to the empty BoB Ballroom, where sitting in the front row are stuffed animals (presumably from Axl's gay-ass manly bedroom). Tifa stands in the center of the ring, with a microphone in hand, as she begins to speak.]

Tifa: Ladies and gentle... stuffed... animals. ... Tonight, we honor you with a speech from the greatest and most wonderful Swiss Army Champion... ever. But really, just the prescence of this man is way too much for anyone to handle! He is metal. He is rock. He is hardcore to the bone. Folks, raise your fist, for the one... the only... Swiss Army Belt Heavyweight Champion of the WORLD... LEADER... of the Rock-O-Lution... Metal God Extraordinare. Your friend and mine-

Stuffed Animal in the Front Row: GET ON WITH IT ALREADY!

Tifa: ... Axl... Van... HALEEENNN!!!

["Young, Dumb, and Rich, B!tch" hits on the speakers, as two men... in speedos and nothing else... walk through the curtains holding sparklers. Wow, what great pyro, as well as a show of flaming homosexuality metal... ness. The curtains part, and Axl comes out, clad in... oh jesus christ. The man has fish-net pants on, proudly showing off his black thong underneath. No shirt, no shoes, not even a whole lot of make-up, and somehow, someway he's managed to get rid of the purple. Let's hear what he has to say...]

Axl: Dudes and dudettes, the major league ass-kicker is back... in... TOWN! Now, I''ve been stopped left and right by the lovely people of right here, in Las Vegas, Nevada... and they've all been throwin' down the one question that the Axl-man knows is just resting at the tips of everyone's tounge... when, babe, WHEN are you going to get back into the swing of things here in Brawlers on a Budget? Well dudes, I wanna tell ya. ... But first, I've got another product to plug.

[Axl reaches into his pants pocket, and pulls out a small bottle. He smiles and makes sure to look directly into the camera.]

Axl: Have you bought a bottle of cheaply manufactured bubble bath, just to find out that it turns your entire lower body purple? Well, fear not babes, cuz Parodyox is there for ya! Just pick up a bottle of Parodyox Brand Bubble Bath... REMOVER! Yes, for all those times when you just can't seem to get out that stain... that well, pretty much encompasses your stomach, legs and feet... well, you just can't go wrong with our product that is specifically manufactured to take care of that EXACT problem! Parodyox Brand Bubble Bath Remover; For best results, use with Parodyox Brand Bubble Bath.

Axl: [pockets the bottle, and resumes promo] Now... Three little letters that have been getting under my skin, and gritting my teeth.

S...

M...

P.

Axl: Dr. Plants. Can I call ya Sil? Aw heck, we're buds, how's Junior suit ya? Hey Junior, you ever heard that expression? I think it goes something like... out with the old... in with the new? Yeah, I think you may have. See Junior, between you and me? You're old... I'm new. So, I think it's not too friggin' hard to see that you need to step OUT... so I can step in? See where I'm going with this?

Axl: For years... and years... and YEARS, you've been on BoB tv. And STWF tv. And probably whatever the hell parody sports entertainment television program came on before that. You've been there, done that.. twenty times over. You've beaten douja, douche-head's beaten you, and quite frankly... it's boring. Really. I mean, look at yourselves. You two look like Hulk Hogan's nuts if they were left in the shower too long. That is, if one of his nuts was black, and the other had an even BIGGER ego than Hogan himself. You two guys are so frickin' old it's like watching Ebeneezer Scrooge take on Father Time every damn time you geezers step in the ring. And god, that moving bus match? You two move so fvcking slow they should have called it a... uhm... BARELY moving bus match!!! ... Well dudes, it's time a new wave arrives. A new wave, led by the leader of the Rock-O-Lution... the Metal God himself, ME! And as this tournament moves on, I will be the one to drop legend after legend, flat on their back, with the Rock-O-Lution Bomb, before finishing they off with the Kiss... of DEATH!

Stuffed Animal in Front Row: YOU'RE GAY!!!

Axl: Yes, indeed I am happy. I am happy, because tonight is the true debut of the most glorious prize in this company's illustrious history; The Swiss Army Belt... Sponsored By Parodyox Inc. Parodyox; for over 90 years. We've existed. ... So, if The Flunky would please, lower the gold of kings... the mighty Swiss Army Belt title... of the WORLD!!!~1

["Also Sprash Zaruthastra" by... some old dude, plays, and the lights... are on. Old, knotted up wire lowers the belt from the rafters, one wire attached to both sides of the strap, and as the belt comes into view, we can see the brand spanking new championship, created by an exec at Parodyox. Which explains why it's really nothing more than a Parodyox brand weight belt, with a Parodyox Brand Raildroad Spike driven through, right into a Parodyox Brand Toy Guitar. Scratched into the guitar's surface is the Parodyox brand name, and elsewhere the letters "B" "o" "B" are proudly displayed. Probably in Big Boss's office, because, yeah, the only letters on THIS belt are those of the word "Parodyox". Axl grasps the belt, straps it around his waist, and spins the guitar as it rotates briskly. He suddenly stops it and takes a pluck at one of the strings... and surprisingly, the string lets out a mighty wail, amplified by a micro-microphone, hidden in the base, and sent out through the arena's speakers.]

Axl: Ladies and gentlemen... I'd like to sing a little tune, my anthem for this tourney... And I'd like to use this here belt to wail away on in the most METAL and XTREME of fashions. Tonight marks the beginning of the end for the old guard here in BoB. Tonight... marks the beginning... of the Rock-O-Lution. This song, I call "Eve of Rock-O-Lution". Ah-1, Ah-2, Ah-1, 2, 3-

*WAM!!!*

[Suddenly, Axl falls to the canvas, the belt falling off and rolling across the mat... and as the camera pans up, we find a man in a black costume, and a black mask... holding a black bat. Axl holds his hand to his mouth and squirts out a packet of ket... er, I mean... he COUGHS UP a bucket of blood. Or possibly a teaspoon, depending on the vendor. ... The masked man drops the bat, before rolling out under the bottom rope, before heading back through the audience... well... stuffed animals... whatever.]

[Camera fades out on the scene of Axl reaching out for the Swiss Army Belt, and clutching it tightly to his chest.]

~ re-cut ~

[The Smooth Operator]

[Dr. Plants is seen at "Thumb Breakers" Casino and Wedding Chapel. Yes, he went back. THE BOOKIE is salivating at the sight of him...]

THE BOOKIE: MY MAN! How's it going? Care to place a wager? You should drop by more often, you're great for business.

SMP: No. You see, I'm the Don Imus of wrestling right now. I got dropped by GEICO as a caveman, I have no sponsors. I'm under fire for some comments I made about an African American... and bascially I'm pretty much broke because the wrestling company I work for... well, let's just say the owner spends much of his time in an underground bunker hiding from the IRS.

I'm just here to see the odds of SMP of Axl Van Halen making it to the finals of a professional wrestling tournament.

THE BOOKIE: A who? Say huh? Listen guy... we really don't have odds on professional wrestling events because the outcomes are predetermined. It's impossible to place odds on them because the house will lose too much.

SMP: Predetermined? That's nonsense. You must be referring to that OTHER company. Brawler's on a Budget is totally unpredictable. I mean really, who could have bet that XXXtreme Machine would win a match, or even win a TITLE like he did? Who could have bet against Bobo Q. Fiendish? Who could see him EVER losing a match?

THE BOOKIE: I don't have any idea what you're talking about.

SMP: Brawler's on a Budget is REALLY unpredictable. How many people do you think would place a bet that a championship title would win itself? Or that the guy from Rage Against the Machine and Tony Hawk would win the Hardcore Title?

THE BOOKIE: You might be on to something here...

SMP: Now granted, I'll be honest. If there ever was a time that people could bet that The Smooth Operator would wipe the floor with a punk like Axl Van Halen, and everybody bet on me to win... then you'd be paying out left and right.

THE BOOKIE: Really? You don't look very intimidating to me. This other guy must be gay, probably has a collection of stuffed animals, wears fish net pants and has semi nude pictures of Burt Reynolds in his bedroom or something.

SMP: Heh. Good call!

*they high five*

THE BOOKIE: Hold on a minute... we actually DO have some bets placed on Brawler's on a Budget activity. You know, I never pay attention to much of this stuff... I just count the money.

Ummm...

We have 10-1 odds that a "Nurse Heidi" will get laid at the next Pay Per View. Man, she must really be a ho.

SMP: *ahem* Umm yeah.

THE BOOKIE: We have 5000-1 odds that somebody named Coma will say something that nobody understands.

SMP: You're safe with that one...

THE BOOKIE: 2-1 that this dude Scotty Whatbody.... WHAT? Stupid name...
2-1 odds that he'll make either a racist, sexist, or generally rude comment on the next broadcast.

SMP: You probably won't pay out on that one, either...

THE BOOKIE: This is interesting...
Here's your boy:
Odds are EVEN that Axl Van Halen will make a pointless, thoughtless, idiotic, homosexual laced promo where a S&M dressed gimp attacks him with a baseball bat.

SMP: Well, I'm not so sure it was a gimp. Just a guy dressed in black.

THE BOOKIE: You mean that HAPPENED?

SMP: Pretty much...

THE BOOKIE: There's more on him...
Odds are 50-1 that the reason his girlfirend, Tifa, changed her last name from Witherspoon to Bon Jovi will never be explained.

Odds are 6-1 that he'll call either you, or some guy named douja...is that pronounced douche-a?

SMP: You know what? I really don't know. I called him that like, 6 or 7 years ago... I guess what's old is new again. *winks*

THE BOOKIE: Well, odds are 3-1 that Axl will call you guys "old" within the next three weeks.

SMP: Three weeks from today?

THE BOOKIE: Ummm, yep.

SMP: I'll get back to you on that one...

THE BOOKIE: Hold on, buddy.... there's more.
Odds are 4-1 that he'll kiss a man within two weeks. What the fah?

SMP: Yeah, I know...

THE BOOKIE: Odds are 5-1 that Axl will feature himself in a segment where he fights and destroys a "jobber" from a promotion nobody has ever heard of or cares about in the next month.

SMP: Oh yeah...

THE BOOKIE: Odds are EVEN that he calls himself the NEXT BIG THING in any form of hair metal reference the next time he says something.

SMP: Won't bet against that one...

THE BOOKIE: And this one JUST came in...
Odds are 300-1 that if SMP, that's you...

SMP: Pip, pip.

THE BOOKIE: Meet Axl Van Halen....

SMP: Speak to me...

THE BOOKIE: ...in a one-on-one encounter, odds are 300-1 that Axl Van Halen will be victorious with a clean pin.

SMP: CLEAN pin? There's even SIDE odds! You HAVE to be kidding me! I'll put $200 on Axl!

THE BOOKIE: Huh? I thought you didn't have any money. And besides... you can't bet on yourself there, Pete Rose.

SMP: Oh yeah.
And you're right... I'd just lay there and get pinned clean, so I could rake in the dough. And for another reason...

THAT WOULD BE THE ONLY WAY, THAT A NO-TALENT BUM LIKE AXL VAN HALEN WOULD EVER PIN ME CLEAN WAS IF I JUST LAID THERE.

THE BOOKIE: Umm, why are you shouting?

SMP: I have Tourettte's?

THE BOOKIE: Maybe this one is a better pick for you.
4-1 odds that the next SMC gets turned in on time.

SMP: I'll pass...

THE BOOKIE: How about:
2-1 odds that Axl will "Home Shopping Network" something from Parodyox in his next bit...

SMP: Nah.

THE BOOKIE: 8-1 odds that either Josh, Jim, or Hardcore JJ post something on the message board this week.

SMP: You really want to pay me, huh?

THE BOOKIE: 20-1 odds that douja will post something on the message board this week.

SMP: Full promo or reply comment?

THE BOOKIE: Doesn't specify...

SMP: I'll pass.

THE BOOKIE: Well, that's about all I have. Unless you want to bet on some baseball, NHL or NBA Playoffs.

SMP: Nope. Can I bet that Pacman Jones gets a year suspension from the NFL?

THE BOOKIE: Ummm...NO! That already happened.

SMP: Oh yeah, you're right. It was worth a shot.

THE BOOKIE: Okay, you're wasting my time now. Are you going to sell something so you can have enough money to make a wager or what?

SMP: Can I bet the Golden Girls will have a reunion show and call it "The Tarnished Bronze Girls"?

THE BOOKIE: Please leave...

SMP: What about Tupac releasing ANOTHER album, like the other three or four he's released since he was murdered?

THE BOOKIE: Get out...

SMP: How about Sanjaya making it to the finals of American Idol?

THE BOOKIE: OUT!

SMP: Say? Do you need any more Elvis impersonators?

THE BOOKIE: We have 15 already! Please leave or I'm going to call the police!

SMP: [curling his lip...]
"I've lived.... my life is full...I've traveled each... and every by-way...oooooh, I did it Myyyyyyyy Waaaaaaaay."

THE BOOKIE: I'm dialing the phone...

SMP: [shaking his hips...]
"Don't be CRUEL.... ummm, to a guy that's COOL."

THE BOOKIE: Hello? Yeah, umm... I need a patrol car to....

SMP: [doing some lame karate moves...]
"AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A HOUND DOG!" Ummm...

[runs off]

OVERHEAD VOICE:
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN...
THE DOC....
HAS LEFT THE BUILDING.

[cut]

[Nurse Heidi]

[Back at "Thumb Breakers"...]

NH: Hi. I'd like to place a wager.

THE BOOKIE: Sure honey! What you got?

NH: I'd like to bet on Coma saying something nobody understands...

THE BOOKIE: I'm sorry, Miss. The odds are 5000-1 that the guy says something SOMEBODY understands. It was a typo.

NH: Damn. How about that 10-1 on Nurse Heidi?

THE BOOKIE: Okay... what's the bet?

NH: I bet that she doesn't.

THE BOOKIE: You know her?

NH: Ummm, no. Just a hunch...

THE BOOKIE: Fine. How much?

NH: $100 good?

THE BOOKIE: Yep. $100 Nurse Heidi doesn't get laid at the next BOB PPV.

NH: It's a bet. By the way, what are you doing the night before?

[fade out]