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FTUW'S MONSTROUS EJACULATION: EVERYTHING EXPLODES! (#6)

 
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Ryoko's Biatch
Joined: 04 Jan 2007
Posts: 9255
(Mon Feb 12, 2007 4:02 pm)
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Post     FTUW'S MONSTROUS EJACULATION: EVERYTHING EXPLODES! (#6)

.R.: Hello folks and we're here in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania LIVE on Pay-Per-View for FTUW's Monstrous Ejaculation: Everything Explodes!

The camera pans over a frenzied crowd, waving signs like "R.I.P. Handsomus" and many displaying the Japanese flag. Over the entrance way, just below the Faggotron, is a LARGE, MECHANICAL PENIS covered in spikes, hanging down limply. With a whirr the penis begins to raise and straighten, numerous lights on the mechanowang flashing. It turns on a pivot slowly, aiming over top the raving audience. In tune with Godzilla's classic roar emitted over the PA system, the metal cock SPRAYS FORTH A GEYSER OF FAKE BLOOD ONTO THE CROWD. They respond with glee as they are bathed in a sticky, red liquid. The penis pivots back to the center and limps before it will once again, periodically, ejaculate onto the crowd.

J.R.: We have a great event tonight with the introduction of FOUR NEW BRAND SUPERSTARS! This is a good thing as most of our roster was put out of commission last Pay-Per-View. Now, with a heavy heart, I'd like to introduce our newest commentator to replace Tony Schiavone. Although the FTUW must bravely march on, Tony can never be replaced in our hearts. Schiavone died tragically last PPV when his head wasn't able to contain the immense amount of excitement he was feeling and exploded. It is indeed a tragedy. I, myself, would shed a tear if God hadn't felt the need to twist my face, the muscles constricting too hard to allow any tears to exit their ducts. And then he gave me colon cancer.

Anyway, the PPV took a toll on everyone. I myself hacked up a spongey, fleshy object sometime during the main event. Anyway, without further adieu, please welcome Warrior Warrior, formerly known as THE ULTIMATE WARRIOR!

Warrior Warrior appears from off-camera, wearing a suit and tie, his face covered in his traditional paint, his hair feathered, and neon-green strings tied over his biceps. He sits down and shakes J.R.'s hand.

Warrior: Hello, J.R., I'd like to say it's great to here in one of the few bastions of morality broadcast over the airwaves. I'm here to offer a different perspective. Some of the wrestlers here, I'll name names later, are using this federation to further agendas less than moral. I'm here to cut through political correctness, an oxymoron as what it represents is never correct, to expose the truth against the facade that people like Bin Destruction try to rationalize. But I'll be fair and balanced, as in the FTUW these moral subhumans will undoubtedly get what's coming to them.

Romeo Krystal, a queer that queered his way to a title shot, died a horrible death at The Last House on the Left match. Now as he accompanies his brethren in Hell, I'm sure that Mohammed-my-religious-beliefs-prevents-me-from-taking-my-
towel-off-and-taking-a-bath-once-in-awhile will as well, finding that the gods he worships have addresses there. I know some of you out there can't take this, that your p/c Lib-America WARPED MINDS have prevented you from understanding the perfect and rational message I'm trying to convey. You little darling queers out there, frolicing in your deviancy, defying nature, will just have to clean out those cum-filled ears, no doubt accrued from the Californian gym crowd, an environment I'm all too familiar with as I tried to etch out a more perfect Warrior from God's shrine following the plans of the Lord's design, having the Pat Pattersons of the world take peeks at The Ultimate's genitalia. No amount of effeminate whining can wear down the heterosexual Atlas of the Warrior. When I'm speaking there will be no popsicles to ease the crying child. No phallic-shaped popsicles of tolerance, it being forced down your gullet, America deep-throating the very symbol of the queers abnormality. I'm the one courageous-enough-to-deal-with-the-truth, and I'll be the one to part the muddy brown, fecal seas that you produce, the anal slime dangling from the righteous ass hair of America, cleaved swiftly with my weapon of Morality, like a Warrior's Sword.

So there you have it from a true Conservative's mouth, one man doing his part to show the world that liberals, queers, and queer liberals must be undermined for our society to be cultivated correctly, for ALL OF US TO BE SAFE, to keep the Bin Destructions of the world from dealt swiftily than uselessly detained by the lets-just-try-and-understand-their-culture-and-beliefs-deviant-Libs,
those same Bin Destructions that maim and murder OUR MEN as they are sent over to help free THEIR PEOPLE.

J.R.: I have no idea what any of that had to do with match commentating but God bless America.

JR: Now we gots a helluva night in store for you fans but first we’d like to introduce our second new commentator-

The lights dim and fans look around confused for a moment. Beside JR on the side opposite Warrior Warrior steam rises from the ground. Mechanical arms descend from the ceiling and hook into a sarcophagus that rises slowly out of the ground. The speakers play some kind of voodoo chant and some guy named Vladimir walks to the sarcophagus and places the sacred pendant into the chest cavity. Several dials and knobs spin furiously as gusts of steam blast the mechanical arms as well as several cables out of the sarcophagus. With a dull and deafening THUNK the locks all disengage and green energy flows forth as the front of the iron contraption slowly lowers. The steam and lights are blinding aside from the sight of several FTUW technicians rushing in and pulling pieces of the machinery away. Finally the lights come back on and the steam has cleared to revelation.

JR: Ladies and Gentleman, introducing our new commentator Jake “The Snake” Roberts!

The crowd cheers, sort of as Jake kind of puts some effort into raising his head to a point where he can see things but he pretty much gives up and puts his head down on the commentator’s table for a nap.

WW: A revelation as slamtastical as it was empirically slothergating.

JR: Now we’ll move right along to the first match.

Some kind of techno music plays which was obviously sampled from the FTUW’s jobber music intros bin as a hovering metallic chair holding Dr. Mented swoops in over the crowd and toward the ring. On the back of the chair stands the creepy albino African Extravagafrican, Bizarro Ooka Jooka. Dr. Daniel Mented cackles as insect-like legs fold out from his flying chair and touch down for a landing right by ringside. Ooka Jooka looks like a mannequin he’s so motionless and unblinking until the Dr. pulls a joystick out of his labcoat and hits a button. Immediately Ooka Jooka launches himself with a jumping corkscrew flip up and over the ringpost spinning to a standing position facing the opposite turnbuckle. Dr. Mented’s chair walks back a few steps and lowers to the ground while folding its legs back. The good doctor hunches over the controls giggling to himself.

Todd Lightning: And now introducing his opponent! The rapper type guy who grew up in some kind of place! SELLLLAAAAA PHAAAAAAYYYYNNEEEE!!

The whites in the crowd sit back looking at their watches and leaving to use the bathroom or get snacks. The blacks in the crowd do the same. The Mexicans in the crowd flip out of control and start shooting into the air in excitement. After a few minutes the few cheers die down as Sella Phayne doesn’t appear to be coming to the ring.

JR: NO sign of Sella Phayne yet. If he doesn’t get out here fast he’s gonna lose by ten count.

WW: Just as well. I don’t need my time wasted by the likes of such trashy scum sucking sell-drugs-to-infants-and-steal-their-shoesish piles of crap. Barely any drugs are acceptable and even less of them make you any skinnier.

In the crowd a group can be seen huddled inwards and the FTUW camera zooms in to reveal none other than Sella Phayne selling some fucking sweet ass shit to a bunch of people. A pile of dead cops lies at his feet who’ve already tried to stop him and an even bigger pile of stoned cops sit around those ones. Sella Phayne flips out his ruby encrusted cell phone and plugs it into one of his teeth which acts as a built in headset. He smugly tilts his sunglasses down and looks at the camera before pulling his two solid gold M-16s out of one of his pockets and firing straight at the crowd. The force of the gunfire propels him like a rocket over the crowd and into the ring while of course killing a bunch of stuck up faggots who happened to be standing underneath him waving their little signs about how drugs aren’t cool and how one should in fact remain in school.

Sella Phayne: Pft. Less make dis quick I gots some bitches need mah cock.
Motherfucker get ready for a Sella-Shock!

Sella Phayne throws the now empty M-16s to the sides of him and lights up crackoineabbis, a Sella Phayne original creation for those who truly like to fly! Dr. Mented still only smiles as he pushes some buttons and turns some dials which make Ooka Jooka get into a fighting pose. The bell rings and the clash of the blackish UNLOADS. Jake the Snake turns to JR.

JTS: Aw fuck…get him on his way back will ya?

JR: Well it’s more’n a little strange to see Ooka Jooka apparently back among the living…if you can even call it that.

WW: I’ll say, JR. If I wanted to see something pale and full of AIDS I’d go to NiZquerowanda!

JR: What?

Sella Phayne begins the assault with some kind of half assed monkey style Shaolin Kung Fu he saw in a movie perhaps. He throws several flailing punches at Ooka Jooka’s face and then spins around and arches his back to throw another punch for no reason. Ooka grabs Sella Phayne by the throat as he is in the position and brings a crushing elbow down upon the bridge of Sella Phayne’s nose. Sella Phayne snorts out a geyser of blood immediately and does a backflip into a kick that actually connects with Ooka Jooka’s shoulder causing him to release the hold.

JR: Sella Phayne seems to of come into this match greatly underestimating his opponent. That kind of stuff may work in the movies but not here!

Sella PHayne falls and lands on his back as his throat is released and immediately rolls to the side just barely missing being stomped by Ooka Jooka’s enormous feet! Ooka Jooka seems somewhat confused for a moment while Sella Phayne scrambles back to his feet grabbing the top rope for support and clutching at his obviously broken nose.

Sella Phayne: Ya’ll gaw pahy faw daht shit!
No Nigga fucks wit diz mug
I’mma fuck you up
Den go munch on some rug!

Ooka Jooka seems to be responding again as Dr. Mented manages to get the control working properly again. Ooka looks over towards Sella Phayne with a lifeless set of huge bulging white eyes and charges. Sella jumps to the middle rope and uses it to propel himself forward nailing Ooka Jooka right under the chin with a rising knee! Ooka is knocked the fuck down by this unexpected attack and skids under the bottom rope and falling to the outside of the ring. The crowd cheers at this amazing display and momentarily forgives the fact that Sella Phayne is probably the worst person to ever live.

WW: Well if there’s anything those people are good at it’s dodging things. Like…I dunno bullets and work and….

JR: …Yeah, well that was a miraculous reversal by Sella Phayne who’s surprising me tonight by showing he’s more than just all talk!

Sella Phayne climbs the turnbuckle and appears to be about to jump on Ooka Jooka on the outside when he turns his head towards Dr. D. Mented and smiles. He jumps off the turnbuckle and kicks the unexpecting Dr. to the floor. However instead of following up on the attack Sella Phayne pulls out his glock and hops into the hover chair.

Sella Phayne: I’ll take dis shit fo’a ride foo!

Sella Phayne lifts off and flies across the arena as Ooka Jooka is just getting to his feet and regaining his bearings. No sooner does Ooka stand up does gunfire tear through his chest. Sella Phayne flies around the arena and comes across Ooka Jooka again firing off another barrage of bullets at Nubian Neanderthal!

JR: Bah gawd! Sella Phayne is taking the fight back to his own terms using the hover chair to administer drive by shootings to Ooka Jooka!

WW: But how is that subhuman staying on his feet with all that lead in him!?

The Dr. seems unconcerned as he just flips a switch and Ooka opens his eyes wide. With a powerful tribal warcry Ooka flexes and the bullets are pushed out of his body by the force of his muscles alone! In mere seconds the bullet holes have healed and the healing process seems to of produced a neon green ooze that seeps from where the bullet holes once were. Sella Phayne is obviously dumbstruck and amongst the confusion allows himself to fly too close to his enemy. Ooka Jooka jumps with the might of the NBA behind him and grabs onto the back of the hover chair. Sella Phayne kicks Ooka Jooka in the forehead trying to get him to let go but Ooka isn’t even acknowledging the attacks. The commotion causes the chair to spin out of control and crash into a steel girder sending both combatants sailing into the crowd!

JR: Unprecedented!! A damn high speed chase on a hoverchair between black people. Nearly as good as the Caucasian hoverchair battle of 88’.

Amongst the crowd cheering the two on Ooka Jooka manages to get to his feet first with Sella Phayne struggling to stand right in front of him. Ooka sees that Dr. Mented is right at the steel barricade with the controls.

Dr. D. Mented: Now, my creation! Finish him!!

Dr. Mented cranks the dials to full power and Ooka Jooka’s eyes turn completely white. Sella PHayne looks up only to see Ooka Jooka throwing a punch with all his might that lands squarely into Sella Phayne’s chest! The force of the punch is so great that it’s delayed by half a second and a shockwave blasts through Sella Phayne’s chest and back knocking out a dozen fans standing behind him as well. The whole group of people collapse and the bell is wrung. Dr. Mented claps his hands in delight and orders his creation to follow him out of the arena. A crew of medical technicians rushes to the scene to try and help the fans and Sella Phayne.

JR: By god, the power of that punch knocked out a whole group of people! Can Sella Phayne who took the direct hit possibly even still be alive?

WW: Let’s hope not.

Jake the Snake sheds a single tear for a fallen hero.

J.R.: And with that we’re moving onto our next match between two of FTUW’s newest superstars! They may be newcomers to wrestling but they are definitely not newcomers to violence! Guan Fei, also known as … uh … Kahnt … uh K’unt-smak is apparently some sort of Chinese warlord!

W.W.: I’m holding a study conducted by SCIENTISTS that proves once and for all that the Chinese and all the Mongolianoids lack the GENE and AMINO ACIDS to have pure, RATIONAL THOUGHT. Undoubtedly, he’s here to further his perverse agenda, TRYING TO RAPE THE MORAL AMERICA, attempting to woo those Lib-America queers with his lavishly designed robes and ornate jewelry.

J.R.: Well, what do you think of Jack “The Hatchet” Masterson, his opponent?

W.W.: Simply the byproduct of Lib-America’s mother-intensive-culture. Too-much-understanding and not enough punishment for violating the ethics that we as Americans must follow that caused this man to not see any repercussions for his actions. He’s also probably a queer.

Jake “The Snake” Roberts squirms around in his chair, biting his bottom lip, his eyes glassy, mumbling incoherencies under his breath.

J.R.: Well then, let’s not waste anymore time and get on with what’s surely going to be a slobberknocker!

Lightning: Coming to the ring first from Shanghai, China! Weighing in at 301 pouunndss … Guaaan Feeeiiii!!

The lights dim as the sounds of war drums reverberate loudly from beyond the entrance. A cavalry of horses, decorated in LACQUERED saddles and covered with GOLDEN TRINKETS. Hanging from several of the horses are the arrow-filled corpses of Guan Fei’s enemies, their limbs torn from the body, only leaving the heads and torsos. Leading the pack is the Minister of Beards, Guan Fei, dressed in a majestic green robe with golden trim. His mighty beard flows from some unseen wind. Over his shoulder he wields HIS WEAPON OF CHOICE, the gigantic Ride the Tiger, a powerful, emerald-encrusted spear. As the horses reach the ring, Guan Fei LEAPS from his horse and gently steps into the ring, HIS MIGHT AND POWER contrasted by his delicate, Asian movements.

J.R.: As Toity lost to Ryakku Saketumi at King Shit of Fuck Mountain, now available on DVD at Best Buy, he retired from the squared-circle. Guan Fei, a fellow Trillionaire’s Club member, took his place, attempting to achieve what his peer couldn’t, THE FTUW TITLE.

Lightning: And his opponent, hailing from Atlantic City, weighing in at 285 pounds … JACK … “THE HATCHET” MAAASTERSOOOON!

The lights dim, the only glow coming from the bulb adorning the MECHANOCOCK placed over the entrance way. Ten seconds pass as the camera focuses on the entrance, nothing happening, no one emerging to face Guan Fei. The camera switches over the announcer’s booth where J.R. shuffles through some papers. Warrior Warrior stares intently into the camera and Jake “The Snake” Roberts is seen in the background, breaking rocks with his father.

J.R.: Hm, well, it seems like we’re having technical difficulties. Let’s roll some footage of the Saketumi Toity match from the last Pay-Per-View.

Meanwhile, backstage the FTUW team is furiously searching for the missing Masterson. One woman with a headset on issues commands. SUDDENLY, a PICK-UP TRUCK BLASTS THROUGH THE DOUBLE-DOORS and CRASHES INTO THE BRICK WALL FOUR FEET IN FRONT OF IT. The FTUW crew stops as James Brock McHarris futilely tries to DRIVE HIS TRUCK through the FTUW backstage. After turning the wheel over and over and revving up the engine, McHarris KICKS OUT the driver’s side window and climbs out through it for no reason. On the ground, covered in broken glass, he rolls around, screaming “GRAAHGLGHSDGJLGHGSL!” He pulls himself to his feet, stumbling as he has lost the ability to unlock his knees, HURLS a bottle of whiskey at the wall and falls over again.

"Goddamnit, where the hell is Jack?! Fuckin' chickenshit! Fuck it fuck it! Shit! Fuck it! Shit!" he screams, rolling around the ground.

He springs back to his feet and fucking GIVES THE WOMAN ON THE HEADSET A GODDAMNED STONE COLD STUNNER! With her neck surely broken, he climbs back through the window of his pick-up truck, puts the car into reverse, and VANISHES AGAIN INTO THE NIGHT.

J.R.: I’ve never seen such a match! Saketumi really impressed the fans. Many are calling it the best FTUW match ever.

W.W.: Saketumi is a godless pervert and I wish the A-Bomb wiped his grandfather off the face of the Earth and sent him to Hell.

The lights turn back on and Guan Fei is still standing in the ring, consulting with one of his men.

“Surely his fear of K’unt-Smak and his mighty spear has caused him to run into the hills with great fear, possibly soiling himself during his journey,” the man advises Guan Fei as he strokes his fantastic beard.

“Yes, this is almost certain. It is quite fortuitous for this rambling fool and his dull edges to escape lest he be shamed into murdering himself after our bout if I decided to impart mercy,” he chuckles, “For his sake, hopefully he doesn’t escape into the wilderness. The beasts may sense his fear and tear him asunder! Ho ho ho!”
As the men laugh with their leader, one of the many horses in cavalry begins neighing uncontrollably, raising its front legs and slamming them on the ground.

“It seems that one of your horses has accrued some sort of western, maddening disease,” the advisor tells Guan Fei, “Perhaps we should slay it?”

“That would be foolish and as a great horse is worth twice as much as a man,” Guan Fei says stoically, “Sharp Sky is a champion horse so his loss would be the equivalent of losing one son and three daughters.”

SUDDENLY, THE HORSE’S HEAD FUCKING EXPLODES. Out from the corpse’s neckhole EMERGES JACK “THE HATCHET” MASTERSON, HORSE INTESTINE DANGLING FROM HIS MAW.

“You’re … like … pigs in a slaughter house …” he says, pulling himself from the horse corpse, “I will warm my pale flesh … with your blood …”

He falls to the ground, BIRTHED FROM THE HORSE’S NECKHOLE. He stands straight up and HACKS OFF HIS PINKY FINGER.

“Aaah! I can taste it!” he shouts, “Prepare to despair … insects!”

“THE HATCHET” DIVES INTO THE RING AND THE TWO CLASH BLADES!

J.R.: Bah Gawd! Bah Gawd! It’s on!

“I have not a clue what the gods were pondering when they created a creature such as yourself,” Guan Fei smirks, “but poets will record your bravery … and your foolishness!”

With that Guan Fei swings UPWARD with his mighty spear, Ride the Tiger, LIFTING “THE HATCHET” INTO THE AIR! Masterson stands deftly on the tip of the GIANT SPEAR, HURLING HIS BLACK HATCHETS with BONE HANDLES like BOOMERANGS at the Minister of Beards! They pass Guan Fei and continue outside of the ring until they LODGE THEMSELVES into the steel of the guard rail. Guan Fei smirks but that smirk quickly switches to SHOCK as the RING ROPES BEHIND HIM ARE SEVERED. A half-second later BLOOD SHOOTS UP FROM HIS SHOULDERS, much like every single time Kenshiro gets hurt. Guan Fei LOOSENS HIS GRIP and Masterson charges down THE SPEAR, EXECUTING A FIELD GOAL-STYLE KICK INTO K’UNT-SMAK’S FACE!

J.R.: A HELLACIOUS KICK!

W.W.: Due to Guan Fei’s epicanthic folds, he was unable to see that coming, another reason why his race is unfit for societal dominance.

Jake: I’ma take … them I always … hrrl … chinks.
W.W.: Exactly.

RIDE THE TIGER drops from GUAN FEI’S HANDS and PIERCES THE RING-MAT as he’s sent reeling backwards. “The Hatchet” lands on the ground while K’unt-Smak stumbles over the edge, THE ABSENCE OF ROPES not preventing him from FALLING OUTSIDE THE RING. To prevent falling, HE GRABS RIDE THE TIGER and DROPS, CAUSING IT TO BEND AND REBOUND HIM AT MASTERSON! Masterson ATTEMPTS TO BLOCK BUT KUNT-SMAK PIERCES HIS GUARD WITH A MIGHTY DROPKICK! His face IMPACTS from Guan Fei’s SANDALS. They both LEAP TO THEIR FEAT and charge again. Guan Fei USES “The Hatchet’s” momentum to deliver a HUGE BELLY-TO-BACK SUPLEX. FEI RELEASES, sending Masterson OUTSIDE OF THE RING and crashing SPINE FIRST ON THE GUARD RAIL!

J.R.: He’s beating him like a government mule!

”The Hatchet” shrugs off the career-ending spinal damage (see: Droz) and YANKS his trade-mark HATCHETS from the steel guard-rail. Guan Fei lifts RIDE THE TIGER and swings it at Masterson with HELLISH SPEED. Like lightning, the SPEAR STRIKES REPEATEDLY at MASTERSON, HIS HATCHETS ABSORBING the damage and preventing himself from BEING SKEWERED. However, it cannot last forever and RIDE THE TIGER SPEARS MASTERSON’S SHOULDER, PINNING HIM AGAINST THE GUARD-R

J.R.: He got him! Guan Fei’s getting a receipt for the blood Masterson drew on him!

In desperation, Masterson hurls another HATCHET at GUAN FEI’S HEAD. Guan Fei attempts to MOVE but HATCHET HAS A FIRM GRIP ON HIS SPEAR. He was using his shoulder all along to stop the fierce attack! Guan Fei watches the HATCHET HOME IN ON HIS HEAD, TRYING TO LEAN BACK AND DODGE TO NO AVAIL. The hatchet MAGICALLY follows his SKULL, DETERMINED TO SPLIT OPEN FEI’S SKULL. In a last ditch effort, K’unt-Smak OPENS HIS MOUTH AND BITES DOWN THE BLADE, PREVENTING IT FROM DECAPITATING HIM!

J.R.: Bah Gawd! What a daring move!

W.W.: Guan Fei certainly does have some grapes. It’s unfortunate that the lack of protein his body needs from eating too much rice has left him lacking rationality and morals.

Masterson isn’t disheartened whatsoever AS HE HURLS HIS OTHER HATCHET AT GUAN FEI. With no way to dodge it, IT DRIVES ITSELF INTO THE FIRST HATCHET, SPLITTING FEI’S CHEEKS and giving him a CHELSEA SM

“Glrrk!” Fei shouts, as he collapses to the ground, dropping his spear. Masterson yanks it out of his shoulder and DIVES INTO THE RING, LEAPING ON TOP OF FEI, GOING FOR THE PIN!
OOOOOONE!!




TWOOOOOOOOO!!




THR-GUAN FEI KICKS OUT!

J.R.: He kicked out! I can’t believe!

Jake: There was one time I … and there … fucking whore gave me herpes.

”Hatchet” yanks his hatchets from Fei’s face and RAISES THEM ABOVE HIS HEAD, READYING THE FINAL BLOW. With a flourish, FEI COUNTERS BY PLACING HIS FEET ON MASTERSON’S SOLAR-PLEXES, LAUNCHING HIM TWENTY FEET STRAIGHT INTO THE AIR! Fei rolls to his side, GRABS his spear, and SENDS IT STRAIGHT UPWARDS, JAMMING INTO RIGHT INTO MASTERSON’S FACE!

J.R.: The Spearface! The Spearface! BAH GAWD!

THE BLADE PASSES THROUGH ONE CHEEK OF MASTERSON’S AND OUT THE OTHER, not killing him but severely injuring him. MASTERSON SLIDES DOWN THE SPEAR, LEAVING AN AMPLE BLOOD TRAIL, and slams down the mat. Guan Fei covers him and the referee dives onto the mat.

OOOOOONEEE!




TWOOOOOOOO!





THREEEEEEE! IT’S OVER! GUAN FEI WINS!

J.R.: He won! What a match, folks!

W.W.: Through perseverance, Guan Fei was able to overcome his genetic handicap. Warrior Warrior will give him some small applause.

Warrior Warrior claps softly three times. Fei stumbles up, BLOOD SQUIRTING FROM HIS FACE, and yanks RIDE THE TIGER out of the unconscious Masterson. He raises it above his head, READY TO PIERCE MASTERSON’S HEART to deliver the final blow but a servant dives into the ring and STOPS HIM.

“What manner of treachery is this?!” Fei shouts.

“Look, sir! Above!” the servant points upward and a SHOOTING STAR STREAKING ACROSS THE SKY.

“I see. The fates have ordered mercy upon this fool. Very well,” Fei says, lowering his weapon, “however, you have laid your hands upon me so your fate has been sealed.”

He quickly snaps the servant's neck, leaving his corpse in a crumpled heap

”Now come, men,” he shouts, saddling up on his horse, “let us find a suitable grave for our dear friend, Sharp Sky.”

J.R.: Now we’re introducing the last of our new superstars who will be taking on one of our veterans, Jonesie the Merciless. Jonesie finally encountered the man he’s been searching for all this time last month at King Shit of Fuck Mountain. However, Hard’Rok was a little too powerful for the pirate, chopping Jonesie’s hand clean off! He’s looking to go up against “The Kanto Devil” Kuroda Saito and claim a victory.

W.W.: Wait wait, Kuroda? How many goddamned slants, and hey p/c police, SLANT is the correct term, look it up in a dictionary if you can manage to read through all THE TEARS. Anyway, how many goddamned slants do we have in this federation? Really, buck the status quo, affirmative action is tearing this country to pieces. How about we leave Mr. Let’s-Not-Have-The-Freedom-to-Choose-Our-Own-Jobs-and-Get-Paid-
Regardless-Of-The-Effort-We-Put-In-Entirely-Destroying-Economic-Mobility-And-
Undermining-our-Personal-Freedoms to pull rickshaws or whatever and let the gifted, white athletes get a shot at the title?

J.R.: The only two champions we had were white.

W.W.: No, J.R. One was a space man who, despite his obvious affinity for S&M leather bars, has saved himself only from hell and moved himself to perhaps purgatory because of his heroic devotion to America. Listen up, Tyrone, look at Handsomus and stop bitching about AMERICA holding you down. He wasn’t even born here and he was more American than all the Hadjis and Mohammeds running our gas stations put together. Also, don’t think I don’t see the connection between you camel jockeys running the gas stations and the oil crisis in the Middle East. Don’t think the Warrior doesn’t know what you’re trying to do, what you’re trying to plot in your curry-stinking-cave-holes-fuck-fuck.

J.R.: And Theldorrin?

W.W.: He’s a fucking Chinese robot. Or whatever. Shit.

J.R.: Anyway, let’s go to the ring where Todd Lightning, or whoever, his son or brother or something, is going to announce the next match.

Lightning: Coming to the ring first, coming from the Kanto region of Japan and weighing in at 220 pouuunds … Kuroodaa “The Kaaanto Devil” Saaaitooooo!

The lights dim, the entrance bathed in a yellow sepia. Some really bizarre and shitty-sounding music plays, filled with techno-distorted brass horns along with a thumping baseline blares hazily from the PA system. From the entrance struts Kuroda Saito, wear a black, spandex singlet that comes up over his chest, silver rings piercing the fabric, jingling and jangling with each step. Over that is a bright yellow jacket adorned with silver zippers. His three belts all have heart-shaped buckles. His face is covered with all sorts of wacky jewelry, including a chain attached directly to his tear duct, sparkling in view from behind his bleached, platinum blonde hair. He saunters down the aisle, the audience really not knowing what to make of him, his body maintaining a spine-straining pose. He slides through the ropes and hopes on the top turnbuckle, waiting for his opponent.

W.W.: Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck this.

Lightning: And his opponent, hailing from the SEVEN SEAS or something …Jonesie “The Merrrrciless!”

No fanfare, no build-up, just the simple EXPLOSION OF A CANNON from beyond the arena. OUT OF THE ENTRANCE SAILS JONESIE THE MERCILESS, SHOT DIRECTLY AT KURODA LIKE HE WERE A CIRCUS PERFORMER, CUTLASS IN MOUTH.

“Nyo?” Kuroda utters before RECEIVING A VICIOUS FLYING HEADBUTT RIGHT IN THE DAMN STERNUM. Jonesie collapses on the ground, holding his neck, no doubt questioning the rationale in such a move while Kuroda falls over, hacking up blood.

J.R.: Bah Gawd! Could it already be over?!

W.W.: No doubt the lack of calcium in the Jap’s diet gave his skeleton the durability to withstand that blow. Plus, he looks like an effeminate pussy.

Jonesie wastes no time as HE ROLLS UP KURODA FOR THE PIN, ONLY SECONDS INTO THE MATCH.

OOOONEE!


TWOOOO!


THR-Kuroda kicks out!

J.R.: That was a close one. I think Jonesie almost had this one sealed up!

Jonesie climbs up off the garish Japanese and jerks him up by his bleached locks. He turns to find his cutlass seeing the referee hand it off to a crew member as such a weapon is illegal in this match. He spits out a slightly disappointed “Yarg” and executes a VICIOUS BLOW to Kuroda’s stomach. Kuroda keeling over gives Jonesie the opportunity to STOP HIS HEAD FACE FIRST INTO THE MAT! With that, Jonesie goes for the cover again.

OOOOOONE!


TWOOOOOO!

THR-Kuroda kicks out again!

J.R.: Those are some vicious moves but Jonesie can’t expect to take someone out this early in the match.

Jonesie once again lifts up Kuroda with his non-mechanical hand and whips Kuroda into the ropes. Kuroda comes off the ropes AND HURLS A CLOTHESLINE. It misses as Jonesie easily ducks it. As Kuroda rebounds again HE IS GUTTED BY JONESIE’S NEW SPEAR-GUN HAND!

J.R.: BAH GAWD! BAH GAWD! He’s impaled Kuroda! He’s goddamned cheating!

W.W.: Forgetting the FTUW rules, are we? If it’s a part of your body, it’s OK. What Jonesie is doing is perfectly fair.

Kuroda spits up some more blood onto Jonesie as the tip manages to pierce Kuroda’s gut slightly. Kuroda grips the spear with his hands, ATTEMPTING TO PREVENT HIMSELF from being skewered, but JONESIE RESPONDS BY FIRING THE GODDAMNED SPEAR! Still gripping the spear, KURODA IS FLUNG INTO THE NEAREST TURNBUCKLE, saving his life by keeping a hard grasp on the steel.

J.R.: Good gawd someone stop this match! He’s bleeding faster than a heartbeat out there!

Jonesie hits another button on his new SPEARGUN hand that RETRACTS the spear via the steel chain it is attached to. Kuroda comes flying forward, much like so many Sub-Zeros pulled by Scorpion’s spear, still gripping onto the STEEL SHAFT of the weapon. Jonesie “The Merciless” jerks the blade free and Kuroda falls onto the ground in a heap. Jonesie unceremoniously rolls him up for the pin.

OOOOONNEE!!



TWOOOOOOO!!



THR-No! Another kickout! Wait, no. It wasn’t a kickout.

J.R.: I’m impressed that Kuroda could … wait a minute, Kuroda didn’t kick out at all. Jonesie got up by himself. Is he being arrogant?

Jonesie stands up slowly with a puzzled look on his face as Kuroda lays lifelessly at his feet. AS JONESIE BEGINS TO STAND STRAIGHT and move out from the CAMERA WE CAN SEE KURODA SPORTING A MASSIVE BONER.

W.W.: Fuckin’ queer goddamnit fuck!

J.R.: Bah Gawd Jonesie broke the pin because he felt KURODA’S COCK PRESSING AGAINST HIS STOMACH.

W.W.: One time I was wrestling a match in Arkansas and one guy did that shit and me and my buddies shoved a ringpost into his ass after the event.

“Nyooo … don’t stop just yet … you have good violence,” he mutters through his bloody face, “Let’s keep going!”

With those words KURODA KIPS TO HIS FEET, HIS BONER STRAINING AGAINST THE WIND VELOCITY FROM HIS SUDDEN MOVEMENT. He stands there facing the pirate, who’s almost dressed as gay as Kuroda is, THEIR FACES ALMOST TOUCHING. Jonesie executes a VICIOUS HAYMAKER that sends Kuroda stumbling back, SLINKING DOWN to the ground but not falling over!

“Ayiii … what a punch … I bet you work ou-ouurrlk!!” Kuroda chokes as a UPPERCUT CRASHES INTO HIS MOUTH. Kuroda spins in a circle from the PUNCH but REFUSES TO FALL, blood dripping from his wounds.

”Yarg, I’ll be sending you to the slimy asshole of Hell, you cocklubber!” he shouts, FIRING HIS SPEARGUN ONCE AGAIN AT KURODA SAITO. The spear SOARS THROUGH THE AIR AND PIERCES KURODA’S PALM AS HE TRIES TO BLOCK. It continues through his hand and jam itself into a turnbuckle!

J.R.: This guy’s got a lot of guts but it doesn’t look good … he hasn’t even landed a punch yet!

“No pity … no mercy … this is the true key,” KURODA GLEAMS HIS SILVER TEETH, LOVE AND PAIN ETCHED INTO THE METAL, “to having LOVE IN YOUR VIOLENCE!”

With that, JONESIE CHARGES AT THE KURODA, one hand pierced by the spear. As he charges, JONESIE THROWS A KICK as Jonesie is nowhere NEAR CLOSE ENOUGH for it to connect. As his foot reaches its apex, HIS SHOE FLIES OFF AND STRIKES THE RUNNING JONESIE IN THE NOSE. He shrugs off the silly attack, the shoe only obscuring his VISION for a second. However, his vision will obscured permanently soon AS HE OPENS HIS EYES AND SEES KURODA’S BIG TOE DARTING TOWARDS HIS EYEBALL! IT PIERCES, DRIVING ITSELF INTO THE TEARDUCT, EJECTING THE EYEBALL FROM ITS SOCKET!

J.R.: BAH GAWD! BAH GAWD! HE SHOVED HIS FUCKING TOE INTO HIS EYEBALL!

W.W.: FUCK! He’s becoming more and more like a pirate every month!

KURODA ISN’T FINISHED WITH THAT. PINNING THE EYE BETWEEN HIS TOES, HE YANKS IT, BREAKING THE OPTIC CORD or whatever it’s called, spewing BLOOD from the hole. Jonesie yargs deeply in PAIN, FALLING TO HIS KNEES, PUTTING PRESSURE ON THE SOCKET. In anger, he reaches into the back of his pants for his HIDDEN PISTOL. His eye still closed, he doesn’t understand what the “THWOOK” sound he ears is. SUDDENLY, HIS ARMS ARE CONSTRICTED, HIS HAND UNABLE TO REACH FOR HIS PISTOL. He opens his remaining eye and FINDS HIMSELF CHAINED UP BY HIS OWN SPEAR GUN, THE LINKED METAL WRAPPED TIGHTLY AROUND HIM, THE SPEAR JAMMED DEEP INTO THE MAT AS AN ANCHOR. He looks up slowly, puzzled, and is HORROR-STRICKEN BY WHAT HE SEES. IT’S KURODA’S GODDAMNED FUCKING COCK, JUTTING OUT OF HIS PANTS, PIERCED REPEATEDLY, ONLY INCHES AWAY FROM JONESIE’S BLOODY EYE SOCKET.

“It’s time … for REAL LOVE …” KURODA CACKLES.

J.R.: FUCK NO BAH GAWD GODDAMNIT SON OF BITCH DON’T DO IT! FUUCK!

W.W.: AAAH QUEEERAAASHHARGH!

“I quit! I QUIT! I QUUIIIT!” Jonesie shouts in horror. THE BELL RINGS AND KURODA IS TACKLED BY THE REFEREE. FTUW ring crew help the severely injured Jonesie free. He leaves the ring fear-stricken, but also heavy with sorrow, as this is the second time he was consumed by fear. Kuroda is pinned up against the turnbuckle by a group of REFS, probably none too happy to have Saito’s dick touching them, as HE SMILES WIDELY AND PANTS HEAVILY, the steam ejecting from his mouth TINTED RED WITH BLOOD.

J.R.: Gawd, I think I’m going to be sick.

JR: Well Ladies and Gentlemen I have here a report that The Ultimate Warrior has been found dead of a drug overdose!

Ultimate Warrior pulls his seat out and sits down.

WW: I’m right here. I just needed to use the John.

JR: Ladies and Gentleman, the return of the Ultimate Warrior!

JTS: Nnnrgh. OhDee my ass. I’ll show ya how to handle that shit like fuh’in a champ.

JR: Our next match is literally out of this world, wrestling fans! Ha ha…hah!

WW: *intense staring at nothing in particular*

JTS: *Rubs his eyes and nose with the palm of his hand.*

*The Faggotron OMEGA descends from the center of the arena showing the image of a barren desert wasteland and a black star filled sky. A single steel box comes into view. As someone steps up to the box it is revealed that it is actually the size of a small office building!*

JR: We’re bringing you live to the earth’s moon where terrorist extraordinaire Bin Destruction is set to take on the man formerly known only as “cloaked”, Hard’Rok!

WW: What kinda moon-walking-trash-talking-freedom-stalking bullshit is this!?

JR: Well, as you may know this match is a special one. FTUW’s very first exploding cage match!

WW: Exploding cage match?! You can find one’ve those in any gook’s backyard next to his Nike-knockoff-sewing babies and population-overcrowding wife!

JTS: I exploded once…

JR: …

WW: …

JTS: …

JR: Uh, well would you like to elaborate on that, Jake?

JTS: E-what-oh-what on what? Brff!! *Jake pukes slightly some vomit and spittle leaking out the sides of his mouth.*

JR: Right…well, the reason this match is being held on the moon is that when that cage goes off it’s gonna take the entire slobknockerin’ planet wannabe with it!

WW: Hah, nice! That’ll take care of “Aunt Flow” visiting our damn wives every month and more importantly hopefully do some kind of weird shit to homos to make them…you know, not be that anymore.

*The camera switches to a view of the inside of the structure revealing tiled walls, each tile with a small hole in its center and a large timer set on ten minutes displayed above the screen. The ground is that of the moon itself.*

JR: Inside of the structure you won’t have none of that gravity levatatin to help you take the brunt of the blow! It’s been specially made to simulate earth’s own gravity. Also you’ll notice those tiles covering the walls. Well if you hit one of those babies hard enough then you’ll get a little more bang for yer buck if ya know what I mean!

JTS: *Jake’s head falls forward and hits the table. He is motionless yet accompanied by the sounds of puke bubbling snoring.*

WW: Here comes that no-good-good-for-nothing Bin Destruction! He really makes me sick to my stomach JR!!!! NNNRRRRGGHHH!!! *Warrior rips the stomach of his suit off showing his chiseled steroid fueled abs.*

*On the monitor Bin Destruction lands his carpet next to the structure and hops off. A turban is wrapped around his air helmet and a baggie attachment has been placed in the front to accommodate his super beard! Before heading into the entrance chamber Bin Destruction runs over to the historical sight where Neil Armstrong and later Bugs Bunny landed on the moon. There the American flag is still standing surrounded by Neil’s footprints unchanged by the windless atmosphere. Bin Destruction throws both arms in the air and sticks up his middle fingers before kicking the flag over to the crowd’s horror!

WW: THAT DAMNED LEATHERFACED-STRAGGLEBEARDED-TOWELHEADED-ROMANPOLANSKIWATCHIN-SANDNIGGERIN FUCKER!!!! *Warrior jumps out of his seat and lunges at the Faggotron. Unable to reach it he merely kicks the air underneath it and charges in circles of RAGE!*

*On the moon Bin Destruction has stomped out Neil Armstrong’s footprints and replaced them with a giant “AMERICA SUCKS” that he wrote by dragging his feet in the sand. The crowd is outraged and throws all its concessions stand bought items at the screens. Bin Destruction is busy drawing a giant picture of president Bush eating out Bin Laden’s asshole when a purple mist surrounds the area.*

JR: Oh my! WE know what this means!

*Seeing the smoke Bin Destruction runs up to the door of the metal structure and goes inside trying to escape the inevitable encounter. Bin Destruction pulls the door closed behind him which makes a loud clicking sound of locks moving into place. Bin pulls his helmet off now able to breath inside of the structure and smiles. He turns around and Hard’Rok is RIGHT THE FUCK THERE!!!*

JR: There’ll be no escaping for Destruction this time around! With both competitors inside the walls the timer has begun counting down and this match is underway!

*Warrior finally sits back down at the table with his two colleagues.*

WW: Peh! I know he destroyed Washington and makes zombies and shit but I’m really rooting for Hard’Rok to beat the mixed up belief system out of that oil hogging bastard!

*Bin Destruction cautiously circles Hard’Rok while in a fighting stance. He shuffles his feet never exposing his back to the Space Valhallan. In turn Hard’Rok doesn’t move a muscle. He doesn’t even seem to be paying attention to Bin Destruction who has now moved behind Hard’Rok.*

Bin Destruction: HMPH! ARROGANT FOOL! TASTE THE MIGHT OF ALLAH!

*Bin Destruction pulls open his vest revealing dozens of box cutters ready to do his bidding. He pulls one out with each hand and spins them as he rears his arms back and hurls them straight at Hard’Rok’s spine. The weapons pass through Hard’Rok’s back and chest leaving a slight stream of purple mist and doing no harm whatsoever.*

Bin Destruction: Hm…he.hahaha HAHAHA

JR: Has Bin Destruction succumbed to SPACE MADNESS? The situation is looking damn grim for him and he’s laughing!!

JTS: Ah he’s jus havin’ a goodtime. Like they all used it for back….for.

Bin Destruction: I have expecting this being! I am prepare to your defensive Djinn!

*Hard’Rok merely raises an eyebrow in response. Not that Bin Destruction could see it anyway. Bin puts both his arms straight out to his sides and whips off his vest completely. The hundreds of box cutters fly into the air and Destruction leaps to them whipping his arms around at blinding speed. When his feet return to the ground Bin Destruction has constructed a huge whip made of interlocked box cutters.*

WW: Hah! Fancy trick A-RAB but a whip’s not gonna do you any better against that smokey motherfucker!

*Bin Destruction begins moving the whip in a figure eight pattern around his body slowly picking up speed. Some of the sand begins to kick up and follow the pattern which is now moving faster and faster.*

JR: Well now I don’t know what Bin Destruction hopes to accomplish here but he better get to it! The clocks already down to 8 minutes an’ 30 seconds!

*Bin Destruction’s whip is now moving so fast that only the sand it kicks into the air even indicates that it’s there. The entire enclosure is now flowing with pieces of sand and Hard’Rok finally moves his head to look upward in curiosity. The sand is spinning violently now forming a vortex.*

Bin Destruction: NOW!! SAND STORM ATTACK!!!

*The vortex is suddenly directly surrounding Hard’Rok and spinning furiously. The force of the wind prevents Hard’Rok from moving in smoke form. The sand vortex tightens and concentrates around Hard’Rok as Bin Destruction pulls out another dastardly device!*

JR: He’s got Hard’Rok caught but he’s still not doing any damage and as long as he keeps this up the times gonna keep tickin’ down!!

*Bin Destruction pulls a small flask out and takes a huge gulp from it. A drop of the liquid hits the ground and sizzles the floor!*

JR: Wait a minnut…

WW: That’s….ULTRAHOL!??

*Jake the snake suddenly puts his head up and looks around eyes wide.*

*Bin Destruction’s cheeks are bloated holding in the burning liquid as he pulls out two medium sized box cutters. He clangs them against one another directly in front of his face creating a single spark. That’s all that is needed as he spews forth an inferno which follows the path of the tornado and envelopes Hard’Rok in unimaginable heat!! As the fire finally burns itself out the smoldering image of Hard’Rok stands steadfast. However, as the smoke and sand calm it’s revealed that Hard’Rok has been encased in solid glass!!!

JTS: Whadda’ fuckin’ waste! *Jake falls forward again returning to his coma.*

JR: But he can’t expect regular glass to hold the likes’ve Hard’Rok!

WW: Don’t give em too much credit JR. These are the people that thought bombing our towers would make us NOT want to kick their fucking asses!!

Bin Destruction: HEH HEH HEH. EVEN The Fires of hell cannot compare to this burning power! Even you cannot escape something forged in fire of ULTRAHOL!

*Hard’Rok struggles but to no avail.*

JR: BAH GAWD! It seems like Bin Destruction’s tellin’ the truth! Could it be because of ULTRAHOL bein’ made of super concentrated remnants of Space Valhalla??

WW: MOTHERFUCKIN’ EXPOSITION!!!

*Bin Destruction calmly walks past Hard’Rok.*

Bin Destruction: BE SEEING YOU BUT NO REAL! You will blown up with this planet and then I will surely be granted a chance to take the FTUW title for taking down such demon!

*Bin Destruction reaches for the latch to the door but his hand stops short shaking. His faced is suddenly warped in pain as he is apparently unable to move. A horrifying voice is carried upon the wind of sand.*

Hard’Rok: Only the smallest piece of me is needed…to rape any being of it’s free will! This match ended the moment you were covered in the mists!

WW: Haha take THAT you EYERACKIE! Now somebody rapes YOU for a change!

*Bin Destruction is covered in sweat and shaking as he tries helplessly to stop his own body. He reaches behind him and pulls out a giant sword sized box cutter. He jerkily raises it above his head and smashes it against Hard’Rok’s glass prison easily shattering it and freeing the monstrosity. Hard’Rok reforms in the air and pulls the hood of his cloak over his face.*

Hard’Rok” NOW….

*Bin Destruction is forced to walk over to the nearest wall and draws back his hand. He throws a powerful punch at the wall landing dead center of the tile. As expected an explosion blasts his entire body across the enclosure like a smoldering rag doll. Bin looks down at what used to be his hand and sees only splintered bone sticking out of a stump of roasted flesh.*

JR: Bah Gawd! Bin Destruction is completely at the mercy of Hard’Rok! Who knew he had such terrifying power at his disposal!?

WW: HAW HAW HAW!!! *Ultimate Warrior grabs the edge of the commentary table and shakes it in excitement! It’s not enough to stir Jake.*

*Yelling out in pain Bin Destruction is given no time to think about his missing hand as his feet plant against the ground and pull him straight up from a lying down position. He turns around and sees that he is near another wall of mines. He screams something in his wacky language before running towards the wall and doing a forward flip into it. Another even bigger explosion is of course the result!!! Hard’Rok only floats above in silence watching the show. Bin Destruction is barely able to move as he lifts his head to reveal that half of his face has been burned off and his jaw has been almost entirely removed. Half his face is now a bloody skull with bits of hair and muscle tissue sticking out here and there. His remaining leg would not work on its own if not for Hard’Rok’s influence! He rises to his foot balancing on the one remaining leg. Tearful Bin Destruction seems to plead for mercy though he can no longer speak beyond a gurgle of blood. Hard’Rok’s cold face smiles, only his mouth visible under the hooded cloak.*

Hard’Rok: Very well…your penance is served…

JR: Well this is a shock! Hard’Rok is actually taking pity on Bin Destruction?

*In a gust of Purple mist Hard’Rok disappears revealing directly behind him the timer which has reached 0:03 !!! The pupil of Bin Destruction’s remaining eye shrinks to the size of a period as the clock strikes 0:00! The force of the explosion can be felt within the FTUW arena itself!! The lights flicker and a few people fall over from the earthquake like rumble but in a few moments all is still.*

JR: Well, somebody better tell the spirit of Jackie Gleason he’s gonna have to send his wife somewhere else!

WW: Haha, yeah the stupid bitch!

J.R.: Warrior Warrior, I have to ask you, how do you feel about this particular match-up between Rakkyu Saketumi of the Nagasaki Hell Riders and Apathetic Arschloch?

Warrior: You see, J.R., we have these queer Japanese wrestlers invading our pure sport of wrestling and it makes me sick. Kancho Saito or whatever, this is your standard liberal queer. A man like that has no place here. However, Mr. Saketumi, I appreciate the effort this man puts into making a good show for the fans, it's quite commendable, not to mention that there is no question what team the man plays for. It's really unfortunate that Saketumi has to be a part of the same queer genetic stock as, well, the entirety of the Japanese mainland.

J.R.: I see. Well, how about his competitor, Mr. Arschloch?

Warrior: His father is actually a good friend of mine. We go quite a ways back and he taught me a thing or two about being a real American man. I never got to know his son well, but he's a bit of a disappointment. But he did defeat Saketumi at Extreme Hardcore: Fuck You, so I'm going to give him the edge in this fight.

J.R.: Fair enough, Warrior. Now, let's head to the ring.

Todd Lightning smiles to the crowd as another monstrous ejaculation fires blood around the stadium. As the massive penis becomes flacid, Lightning yells, "This match is set for one fall with no time limit! We bring to you in this corner, APATHEEEEEEETIC ARSCHLOCH!" Arschloch is rolled into the ring on a dolly by FTUW's highly trained staff. The energetic cheers of the crowd cause no stirring in the giant man save a small rolling of his eyes and an inaudible mutter to himself. They finally get to the ring and a security guard sets up a ramp into the ring while another holds the ropes open. Try as they might, the highly trained workers are unable to get Arschloch more than halfway up the ramp. Finally, Arschloch mumbles, "Whatever, you stupid douches, I'll walk," and stumbles into the ring. He sits in the corner and seems to fall asleep.

Todd Lightning, looking at his watch as nearly 15 minutes passed, shakes his head and continues, "And in the opposing corner, from Nagasaki, Japan, the Burning Wolf! RAAAAAAKYUUUUUU SAKETUUUMI!" Four Hell Riders carrying a palanquin enter the arena. Tanaka and Kuzuki lead the way.

"This is so fucking heavy, Kuzuki!"

"Shut up, Fatty, you should be used to carrying a lot of weight."

"So mean."

When they get to the ring, SAKETUMI JUMPS OUT, two nude Japanese women slung over his shoulders. He throws them out to his fans in the front row and the Japanese men grope and cheer for their hero. Saketumi grabs the middle rope, pulls back and rockets himself into the ring with two flips. "You son of bitch, I kirr you!" Arschloch yawns.

The bell rings and Saketumi tries to take the early advantage. He jumps up and does a flying headbutt at Arschloch's corner of the ring, but just as he's about to make contact ARSCHLOCH DISAPPEARS AND SAKETUMI HITS THE GODDAMNED TURNBUCKLE WITH HIS FACE. Saketumi's goons gasp as blood starts running down Saketumi's face.

J.R.: Bah Gawd, there's already blood in this match! Saketumi was a little too eager for that one!

Warrior: You can't get passionate when you're in the squared circle, Jim. That's when you start queering.

Saketumi, on his feet, looks around trying to find Arschloch. "Fight rike man, Alschroch!" Saketumi screams to his invisible foe. He pops his fingers and starts randomly punching and kicking all around him hoping for a lucky hit so he can find Arschloch. The crowd starts booing, tired of Arschloch's invisible BULLSHIT, but not even that can bring Arschloch out of perfect apathy.

Arschloch, his eyes not even in focus, hears a voice speaking to him. "Arschloch, you've achieved a level of apathy that none before you has ever imagined. Join me and become one with the Apathy Force." This voice stuns Arschloch long enough for him to fade into reality and for Saketumi's foot to connect with his midsection. Saketumi, grinning at his good luck, rains blows down on Arschloch, hoping to keep him from regaining his composure. A left straight to the jaw, a roundhouse kick to the shoulder, and a headbutt drop Arschloch to his knees. Saketumi lifts Arschloch up between his legs to attempt a powerbomb.

All this time, Arschloch tries to concentrate, hear the voice again. As he falls, the voice comes to him again, "Don't try, Arschloch, be the apathy." Arschloch's head is buried between Saketumi's thighs and tiny azz dik when he attains apathy again. Saketumi tries lifting Arschloch's torso and NOTHING IS FUCKING THERE! "Kch ... Kusooo!"

Arschloch regains contact with the Apathy Force and it speaks to him again. "Apathetic Arschloch, I have come to give you the ultimate gift that one such as yourself can be given. Take it and defeat all of the things that want you to awaken and face the real world. Effort is bullshit and you know this, stop caring and become a champion." With those words, Arschloch rises to his feet, sending Saketumi flying over Arschloch's shoulders.

Somehow, this action causes a stirring in the announcer's booth. Jake "The Snake" Roberts rises to his feet. "Dear Jesus, I've never felt anything like this before. I'm stone ass fucking cold sober! I can feel things!"

J.R.: Bah Gawd! What in the world could this mean?

Warrior: He's probably going to buy some crack.

Saketumi gets back up and faces Arschloch, charging at him. Just as he attempts a headbutt he sees something above him, falling. Not heeding the potential danger, Saketumi headbutts Arschloch, but his head is blocked with Arschloch's hand!

J.R.: I don't know what's going on here! Arschloch is actually doing things!

Arschloch's eyes are glazed over and his hand begins crushing Saketumi's head. The cut is made larger and blood flows freely down Rakkyu's face. Saketumi is then lifted off his fucking feet into the air and JAKE THE SNAKE LANDS ON HIM, knocking him back to the canvas.

Saketumi pushes the redneck off of him and tries to go back to kicking Arschloch's ass, but all of Saketumi's punches and kicks are blocked! Then Saketumi is lifted up from behind and body slammed. He shakes his head and is pissed as hell when Jake starts punching Saketumi in his fucking face! Saketumi is growing dizzy from the blood loss when he suddenly sees and opening and headbutts the shit out of Jake the Snake knocking him out cold! Saketumi pushes the blood back into his wound with his hands and says, "Shiiiiit ... I can't lose to this bastard again."

Then a strategy reaches Saketumi's oxygen deprived mind. He punches Arschloch with his right hand and it's gripped tightly by the unconscious Arschloch. Saketumi does the same with his left fist. He winces in pain as his bones snap in the steel trap-like grip. Seeing his opening, he headbutts Arschloch in the mouth and HIS FUCKING TEETH FLY ACROSS THE RING. They both fall to the mat in a daze. The ref counts, ONE TWO - Arschloch stirs slightly - THREE. Saketumi rolls off of Arschloch with teeth embedded in his skull, passed the fuck out.

J.R.: Saketumi wins, but we're going to need to get three bodies out of the ring!

J.R.: Before we get to the main event, let's welcome Rakkyu Saketumi into the booth. His forehead is stitched up good and we've filled him up with blood we would have used for the giant dick's ejaculation, so he should be fine. Rakkyu, you can push Jake out of that seat over there, he probably won't even notice. Our official FTUW translator, The Great **JON**, will be helping us with this interview. Now, Rakkyu, a lot of the fans think you were screwed out of this main event, what do you have to say to that?

Saketumi: (I believe I'm the best fighter in this federation. I should be facing Puff Ryder tonight, it's only because Jack Daniels stole my place in KING SHIT OF FUCK MOUNTAIN that Theldorrin has the belt tonight. It is absolutely true that I was unfairly cheated from my proper place atop FTUW.)

**JON**: Yaaaaaaaaaaaa, bitches, it's bullshit!

Warrior: Mr. Saketumi, I've been informed by various sources that you'll be getting your title shot soon. I guess what I'm trying to ask you here is, are you a queer?

Saketumi: (You're an idiot. I can't believe this bullshit. Fuck you. Hell Riders, carry me out of here.)

**JON**: No, sir.

J.R.: Good luck in your future matches, Rakkyu Saketumi. Now, let's move on to the main event where Theldorrin XIV will be facing Puff Ryder for the FTUW championship.

Jake the Snake: Fuck, whatever, I can't find my pipe. Did that jap take my pipe? Shit.
Yogurtman
Odin
Joined: 03 Jan 2007
Posts: 2248
(Mon Feb 19, 2007 11:31 pm)
Reply

Post     Re: FTUW'S MONSTROUS EJACULATION: EVERYTHING EXPLODES! (#6)

As Jake Roberts passes out in a pool of his own fluids, Todd Lightning begins, "And now, your main event. This match is set for one fall and has NO time limit. This is a random match! First, our challenger, in this corner, RAAAAAAASHEEEEED YOUNG! THE PUFF RYDER!" "Kryptonite (I'm On It)" by the Purple Ribbon All-Stars blares out of the speakers as Rasheed Young and Ricky Williams walk through the entrance. Ricky Williams is wearing his own jersey and a shitty, nappy beard. Rasheed comes out in slacks and a nice shirt with a tie. He was dressed by his mother who believed that since this was an important match, he should look important. Ricky rolls up a joint of the mystic African dank as Rasheed takes his place in the ring.

"And now, your champion, dictator of China and an all around great man, THELDORRIN XIV!" No music plays as Theldorrin marches out to the ring. The boos are deafening as he approaches the squared circle. Adding to the cacophony is the clanking of Theldorrin's armor. His rocket boots gently raise him up into the air and he smoothly lands on the other side of the ropes in the ring.

J.R.: It seems that Mr. McHarris, the commissioner, has decided to raise the stakes in this match! A random match is when the ring is programmed to randomly change the match type at random intervals! We'll have to see how this affects the complexion of the title match!

Warrior: I believe the commissioner made the right choice. Puff Ryder clearly doesn't stand a chance against Theldorrin, so this way the fans can still get their money's worth. It's almost like several matches for the price of a single match and a black man will probably die.

Jake the Snake: Wait, is that Ricky Williams? YOU OWE ME SOME WEED, MOTHERFUCKER! This guy went to Thailand or something after taking a pound of weed from me! I prefer harder drugs, but it's the goddamned principle, you know?

J.R.: Indeed.

The bell rings and a cage lowers from the ceiling. Ricky Williams passes the spliff through the links in the fence and pokes his finger on the side! It's made of goddamned barbed wire! Rasheed takes a hit of the mystic herb and transforms into PUFF RYDER. "Bah," Theldorrin mutters to himself, disapproving of that kind of showmanship. Puff Ryder and Ricky Williams wink at each other and give the thumbs up. He pulls out his OMNI-BONG, says, "POWER BONG EXTEND!" and the bong grows, shooting out toward Theldorrin and launching bong water all over his chest. Theldorrin reaches up and wipes the water off.

"What the hell? Are you fucking serious? Are you dense? Are you retarded or something?" Theldorrin kicks Puff Ryder in the chest and he flies into the side of the cage, the barbed wire ripping his jersey to shreds. "Shit, Ricky, it didn't work. What do we do?" Rasheed asks his trainer.

"Fuck this shit, nigga, I'm leaving before I get my black ass killed," Ricky says before walking out of the stadium.

As Ricky jogs the FUCK out of there, Theldorrin stomps the hell out of Puff Ryder, helpless without his sensei's advice. Suddenly, sparks shoot from Theldorrin's gauntlets! THEY FUCKING SHORTED OUT FROM THE BONG WATER! Shocked at this retarded ass revelation, Theldorrin gives Puff Ryder enough time to regain his composure and punch Theldorrin in the chest. Of course, this does nothing.

WW: This is a match is an exercise in spectacular queer.

J.R.: Don't say that yet, Warrior Warrior, Theldorrin is without the use of his Rockatricity Gloves, which helped him win the title!

WW: Theldorrin is unbeatable by anything short of The Ultimate Warrior or maybe Handsomus R. Awesome. I just can't see him losing.

Jake the Snake: Fuck this, I'm leaving. Is my check for this around here?

Theldorrin lifts Puff Ryder from the ground with one hand, while Puff Ryder continues to HAIL DOWN FISTS OF EBONY JUSTICE upon the evil cyborg's chest in the exact same spot. Annoyed by the repeated tapping, the throws Puff Ryder against the side of the cage again, his tattered jersey hooking to the barbed wire. At that moment the cage begins to rise off of the ring and thumb tacks pop out of the mat. Seeing this, Theldorrin jumps up and grabs Puff Ryder's legs and throws him on to the tacks. Puff Ryder screams in pain as dozens of tacks are stuck to his body. He starts pulling the tacks out when Theldorrin gives him a mighty kick to the sternum, throwing him backwards onto more.

"Pathetic, even that moron bin Destruction was more of a problem for me," Theldorrin tells Puff Ryder who rises to his feet again and starts punching Theldorrin's chest plate all over again. Theldorrin laughs and bodyslams him onto the canvas. The crowd starts booing, expecting a better showing from Puff Ryder. Puff Ryder gets up and rips of his jersey, specks of blood covering his torso. He picks up the Omni-Bong and grins to himself, "This is it. POWER BONG EXTEND!" The bong grows and Theldorrin blocks it with his hands, BUT IT KEEPS ON GROWING, PUSHING THELDORRIN BACK. At the same time, the tacks almost magically are reabsorbed by the ring and the ropes are engulfed in flames. Theldorrin struggles, but is pushed back into the burning ropes. Finally his hands give way and the bong strikes THE SAME SPOT THAT PUFF RYDER HAD BEEN WORKING ON THE WHOLE MATCH, PUNCHING RIGHT THROUGH THE ARMOR!

"Wait! You fool! What are you doing?" Theldorrin yells.

"You ain't know by now, shiny, you ain't NEVER gonna come up with an answer!" Puff Ryder replies, rushing forward and punching the area of the hole.

"Stop! STOP! I forged my armor to withstand ANYTHING -- Except REPEATED stress on a solitary POINT! You are the FIRST to try such a tactic! Now you have rendered my main weapons power circuits inoperative!" Theldorrin gasps as wires are exposed and the hole grows larger. The heat of the ropes finally gets to him and he pushes Puff Ryder away.

J.R.: I don't believe it! Puff Ryder exposed Theldorrin's weakness!

WW: This is unbelievable! Jake the Snake vomited on my feet before he left and I didn't even notice!

Puff Ryder, feeling good for the first time all match, jumps back into the fray, punching the exposed area of Theldorrin's body. Theldorrin reels, feeling the pain of each precisely placed punch. "No! I won't be defeated by the likes of you!" Theldorrin bellows and uppercuts Puff Ryder off of his feet, who despite his sudden serge is still the more injured man. Theldorrin drops to his knees, straddling Puff Ryder and starts CHOKING THE FUCKING SHIT out of him! Puff Ryder slaps on the sides of Theldorrin's helmet, but it doesn't seem to do any good. The slaps become weaker and weaker when it finally seems that Puff Ryder has fallen unconscious.

Theldorrin rises to his feet triumpantly, knowing victory will be his. He circles around the ring, staggering. Then a noise is heard in the arena. He looks up and on the JUMBOTRON a flaming figure can be seen. A chant goes up in the crowd, "Hand-some-us! Hand-some-us!" Theldorrin looks around, panicing.

J.R.: Bah Gawd, is that Handsomus R. Awesome?

WW: If you're a real American, and not a queer-loving liberal, then you certainly hope so!

Theldorrin runs to pin Puff Ryder to retain his belt before his dreaded foe arrives. He makes the cover when the ceiling FUCKING BLOWS THE FUCK UP AND HUNDREDS ARE KILLED BY SHRAPNEL. A burning figure with arms spread wide falls toward the ring.

ONE-

TWO- Puff Ryder kicks out! Fire in his eyes!

THE RING EXPLODES WHEN THE FIGURE LANDS DIRECTLY ON THELDORRIN'S BACK AND THE FRONT ROWS ARE MADE INTO A GODDAMNED CRATER.

From the rubble a figure rises. It's Puff Ryder! He makes it back to his feet in a fucking miracle and stumbles around confused. He raises his arms and assumes he's won the belt! But then a second man makes it out; THELDORRIN! It's not over yet! Theldorrin's armor is shattered and his part-human, part-robot body is exposed for the world to see! Only his mask remains. However, before the fight can resume, the third man comes up; GODDAMNED FUCKING BIN DESTRUCTION! HE HIT THELDORRIN AND PUFF RYDER WITH THE LUNAR 9/11!

While Puff Ryder is distracted by his shock at the arrival of bin Destruction, Theldorrin sucker punches him in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. Bin Destruction, surprised to be alive, wanders backstage. Puff Ryder gets back to his feet and he begins trading blows with the crazed cyborg. Neither moves back a pace as they continue punching each other, bleeding profusely. It seems like it will never end! Finally, in an effort to win it all, Puff Ryder COCKS HIS HEAD BACK AND HEADBUTTS THELDORRIN. Theldorrin is stunned and both stand in place for what seems like an eternity.

Blood runs down Puff Ryder's nose and his eyes roll back. He's out cold. Theldorrin pins, one- two- three!

J.R.: I don't believe this! What the hell happened!

WW: Puff Ryder headbutted Theldorrin, but Theldorrin's metal head was just too much for Puff Ryder's skull to handle.

J.R.: What an amazing match! Congratulations Puff Ryder on pushing the champ so far, but our champion is still Theldorrin XIV!
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