The House Show! - Taped 12/01/18
Dec 1, 2018 17:23:22 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Kira Izumi, and 2 more like this
Post by Steele on Dec 1, 2018 17:23:22 GMT -5
Trevor: Welcome everyone to another action-packed instalment of The House Show and I hope you're PUMPED because we're gonna crown a new champion tonight!
Skeeter: I'm ready Trevor, I can't wait to see who walks out with the gold! You or-
Trevor: It's gonna be ME! Mack Daddy can suck my fat dick!
Skeeter: Shit Trevor I ain't ever seen you this angry!
Trevor: You ain't ever seen a man injure my champion and fuck up my booking before!
Skeeter: True dat.
Trevor: Alright, let's get this show on the road so I can get me a championship!
Trevor: Wait what the FUCK?
Mack Daddy walks out through the curtain with the microphone for the sound system and... Something else.
Mack Daddy: Sup bitches? You can't make me walk to the ring without music this time! I got the remote! I can play my music whenever I want!
Mack swaggers to the ring and goes through the ropes. This week, there are actually three ropes on the ring.
Mack Daddy: So Trevor, you been doin' a lot of talkin' about how you gonna whoop my ass and take that title tonight?
Trevor: That's right! You injured Plank!
Mack Daddy: Ha ha haaaaa. Well I got bad news for you. We ain't gonna be havin' a match tonight.
Trevor: You too much of a pussy to face me? You giving up before you get your neck broken?
Mack Daddy: Oh you wish. Nah, I got another reason.
Mack gestures to the curtain and Pixie Styx wheels out the TV Trolley. She presses play and a video starts up.
We see a toddler standing up, and leaning against a sofa. The baby turns and looks at the camera and then holds out a hand and laughs.
Trevor: She's gonna do it!
Karen: Come on! Come to Mommy!
The baby turns more towards the camera and then takes its other hand off the sofa. It goes to step and then...
We see a shot from behind Trevor as he pushes open the door to a bar. He steps inside - the air is thick with cigarette smoke. The music is loud. Behind the bar stands a familiar face.
Mack Daddy: Trevor? What are you-
Trevor leaps over the bar and the few patrons who were sitting on bar stolls flee. Trevor lays into Mack Daddy with a hailstorm of punches.
Freight Train: Go on man! Fuck him up!
Freight Train identifies himself as the cameraman as Trevor grabs Mack by his jacket and throws him onto the bar, then slides him along the counter like in an old western movie, sending glasses and ashtrays crashing to the floor.
Mack Daddy: Yo man I at work! What the fuck dude?
Trevor: You. Killed. PLANK!
Trevor punches Mack in the nose with each word he says and then grabs a pool cue as Mack tries running, he smashes Mack across the back and snaps the cue in half! Mack screams, grabs a nearby beer bottle - he swings and smashes the glass over Trevor's head!
Trevor staggers but the adrenaline is pumping, and so is the blood as it pours down his face. He climbs on top of a table and goes to jump - the table collapses though and Trevor falls to the floor in a pile of wood! Mack gets to his feet, he grabs a table leg and swings down hard - Trevor rolls out of the way and picks up a pool ball - he throws it as hard as he can!
Hits Mack Daddy right in the dick!
Mack Daddy: (wheeze) Holy shit I wasn't ready... (wheeze)
Mack doubles over and Trevor grabs him, shoving as many fingers into Mack's mouth as he can to form the Florida Man-Dible Claw!
The camera zooms in on Mack as his eyes bulge and roll back into his head.
Mack Daddy: See that shit right there is why you ain't gonna lay a FINGER on me tonight! You know how much damage you caused to my bar? Not to mention coming and beating me up when I wasn't expecting it! So that's why I went out and I got this...
Mack pulls out a sheet of paper and unfolds it, putting it on the commentary table.
Trevor: What the fuck is this?
Mack Daddy: It's a restrainin' order, fool. It means that you can't come near me! Wherever I go, you gotta get the fuck out!
Trevor: But this is my house!
Mack Daddy: I know. Which is why I'm bein' gracious enough to let you stay on commentary tonight... But you gotta go in the cheap seats!
Mack Daddy points up to the window in the attic that overlooks the yard.
Mack Daddy: As for our match? It ain't happening! Now I suggest that you get to steppin! Go on fool, you want me to call the police?
Trevor: This is MY HOUSE!
Trevor gets up, steaming mad, and Mack Daddy warns him not to try anything stupid. Reluctantly, Trevor heads back inside.
Skeeter: Don't worry Trevor, I think I got some patch cables at my house! I'll set yer microphone up in the attic!
Skeeter: Alright! It's time for our opening match! Trevor, how you doing up there?
Trevor: I can't see a fucking thing!
The Good Doctor walks through the curtain and down the step, heading to the ring.
Skeeter: The Good Doctor is making his first in-ring appearance here in BYOB, he turned up too late to wrestle last time - he obviously thinks he's better than us or some shit.
The Good Doctor: I'm better than you because I have a degree and you didn't even finish high school, Skeeter!
Skeeter: I am a small business owner!
The Good Doctor: You're "self-employed" Skeeter, you're not a business owner. And you're only self-employed because you got fired and nobody will hire you!
Skeeter: Trevor hired me!
Trevor: Eh... "hire" is a strong word. It implies there's some sorta money involved.
Trevor: Another kid making his debut tonight, the would-be novelist Travis Monroe! I wanted to call him "The Author of Pain" but apparently I could end up gettin' sued so I thought I better not risk it.
Monroe comes through the curtain to no pop because there are no fans. He vaults adeptly over the top rope and then goes to shake hands with The Good Doctor, who disdainfully pulls out a latex glove before accepting the handshake.
Psych!
The Doctor pulls Monroe in and gives him a big shoulder barge that flattens him, Freight Train is the referee for this match and he calls for the bell.
Trevor: Ding ding!
The Doctor walks slowly round Monroe and looks to be assessing him, then stamps on his left elbow viciously and repeatedly.
Skeeter: The Good Doctor's usin' some of that book-learnin' to figure out which body part to attack! Is that an unfair advantage?
Trevor: What, being intelligent? No! So long as someone bleeds they can go about it however they want!
The Good Doctor gets Monroe up into a cross-face chicken wing, Monroe struggles and manages to escape, he runs into the corner and backflips over the Doctor as he charges in! Monroe hits him in the back with a dropkick and then a monkey flip before heading up top!
Trevor: This Monroe kids looks good, he comes off the top rope! Elbow drop! Makes the cover, Freight Train get your fat ass down already! Kick out at one!
The Good Doctor: You know if you didn't eat so much processed junk you might be able to shift some of that weight and get down on the mat without hyperventilating...
Freight Train: Shut up man! I can't help it! I eat because I'm depressed!
Travis Monroe attacks again, he leapfrogs The Doctor and comes back off the ropes and takes him down with a flying forearm! Doctor gets up, Monroe hits a dropkick! The Doctor rolls out of the ring and picks up a garden gnome then throws it at Monroe. It hits him square in the head and knocks him down!
Trevor: We are full of firsts here in BYOB! Where else will you find people attacking each other with gnomes?
Monroe shakes off the cobwebs and, not wanting to be outdone, he rolls out of the ring as well. He goes to pick up a paving slab but struggles with the weight, and The Good Doctor waffles him from behind and then goes back after the left arm, locking in an armbar.
Trevor: Now this'll be a test fer Monroe! We ain't got no rope break rule here in BYOB - hell, we barely even got ropes.
Monroe flaps as he tries to get free and eventually manages to turn himself over - it looks like he's going to push down for a pin but instead he stands up, The Good Doctor tries to cling on to the arm but Monroe manages to pull him up in an amazing feat of strength, and then powerbomb him onto the paving slab!
Skeeter: Holy shit! Can you believe that!? Guy's like Superman or some shit!
Trevor: That was cool! I want him to do it again!
Monroe goes for a pin and Freight Train lumbers down to the floor.
Freight Train: One! Two!
Kick out!
The Good Doctor: Don't give me fuckin' two, I kicked out at one!
Freight Train: That was a two-count, man.
The Good Doctor: So you're stupid as well as morbidly obese? Huh, I wonder if there's a correlation...
Monroe pulls The Good Doctor up and throws him back over the top rope and follows him into the ring. The Doctor fights back and the two exchange fists before The Good Doctor hits Monroe with a big implant DDT. He makes a cover;
One!
Two!
Kick out!
The Good Doctor: Now that's a three-count if there ever was one! I can't believe this guy, can we actually get a referee that can count at some point? Seriously! I've seen {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore} four-year-olds who had a greater grasp of numeracy than you! There are more brain cells left inside the head of that guy who jumped in front of your- ACK!
Freight Train suddenly grabs The Good Doctor by the throat and pushes him into the corner! He chops him hard across the chest and then lays a hip bump into him before backing up and revving his piston-arms.
Trevor: Oh man now he's pissed! He don't like bein' reminded of that! He's goin' fer Off The Rails!
Freight Train: CHOO CHOO MOTHERFUCKER!
Freight Train takes off but at the last second just as Monroe is pulling himself up on the ropes, The Doctor grabs the unfortunate novelist and pulls him into the corner, jumping out of the way at the last minute! Freight Train puts his head in his hands as the Doctor rearranges Monroe's legs on the ropes... Big punt to the balls!
Trevor: Ohhhhhh FUCK! He calls that move "Hope You're Insured" and Jesus, I hope he is too!
The Good Doctor covers Monroe and stares at Freight Train, who reluctantly gets down to his knees and makes a somewhat slow count.
One...
Two...
Three!
Trevor: Ding ding! We have a winner! The Good Doctor sends Travis Monroe to the emergency room and he should probably swing by the fertility clinic too and make sure everything still works down there...
Skeeter is in the kitchen getting more beers. The doorbell rings.
Ding-Dong!
He goes to the door and opens it, and there's a scrawny-looking kid standing there holding, well... This.
Skeeter: What the fuck is that?
Weeaboo Jones: This is Mizumi-Chan.
Skeeter: What the fuck is a Mizumi-Chan?
Trevor shouts from the top floor.
Trevor: Skeeter! Who's at the door?
Skeeter: I dunno! Some kid with a naked pillow!
Weeaboo Jones: Uh my name's...
Trevor: Ask him if he's here to wrestle!
Skeeter: You here to wrestle, kid?
Trevor: Uh... Wrestle? No, my mom said there was like, an anime convention here or something?
Skeeter: That that Japanese stuff?
Trevor: Yeah that's right!
Skeeter: Oh cool, you're in the right place then. Come on in!
Skeeter invites Jones in and closes the door.
Skeeter: Yeah we do all that Japanese stuff here. Strong style, lights-out deathmatches, shit like that.
Weeaboo Jones: No I'm actually not here to-
Trevor: Tell him he can team up with someone if he's nervous!
Skeeter: Trevor says he'll break you in with a tag-team match.
Weeaboo Jones: No seriously you guys aren't listening to me, I'm just-
Skeeter leads the kid back through the kitchen and they bump into Jamie Lee Dunne.
Jamie Lee Dunne: Mate, you look ridiculous. This your gimmick? A weeaboo?
Weeaboo Jones: My gimmick? What the fuck's a gimmick?
Skeeter: Weeaboo Jones! That's what we'll call you!
Weeaboo Jones: But my name's not Jones...
Skeeter: Well my name ain't Skeeter but it's what everyone calls me so live with it kid, you gotta start somewhere. Now you get to know ol' Jamie here, he's an actual real-life wrestler so I figures we'll put you up against him and he'll be able to protect you. I'll go and look fer some partners fer each of you. Don't go anywhere now!
Weeaboo Jones: Wait.. But...
Jamie Lee Dunne: Alright kid, here's how to lock up.
Skeeter: Alright welcome back! We got a very special match up now, it's the first tag match in BYOB!
Trevor: I sure hope this is the song he wanted 'cos I couldn't understand a damn thing he was sayin' in his interview...
El Hije de Jefe doesn't seem to care as he walks through the curtain along with Weeaboo Jones, who is still hugging Mizumi-Chan.
El Hijo de Jefe: Allright so it siample yuo now thee plain?
Weeaboo Jones: Yeah, I think so. Just let you do the heavy lifting right?
El Hijo de Jefe: Fack it no! I steey at outsade tha reng, yuo do wark! I cam in get panfall, evarywan chair for Jef- I meen, El Hijo de Jefe!
Weeaboo Jones: But I don't think I can-
El Hijo de Jefe: Yuo lesten to me! Do watt I sey ar I fack you up! You heer?
Jones nods nervously and he goes into the ring.
Jamie Lee Dunne bursts through the curtain, he looks every inch the consummate professional as he goes through the motions, walking from side to side as if he was slapping hands with fans along the aisle.
Of course, there's nobody to slap hands with, but that doesn't stop him.
He gets into the ring and Jones goes to high-five him but Dunne completely no-sells and goes up to the top rope to pose.
Pixie's theme hits and she steps through the curtain. Her costume is revealing as fuck, and Jones' jaw drops as she slinks to the ring seductively.
Weeaboo Jones' eyes almost bulge out of his sockets as she gets into the ring like this:
Trevor: Alright, let's get it on! Ding fucking ding!
Skeeter: So how the fuck does a tag match work here anyway? Cos there ain't no DQs or shit but you still gotta tag and all that...
Trevor: I dunno, we'll just figure it out as we go along.
Dunne and Jones are to start the match. Freight Train is once again the referee.
Jones is sort of... Crouching, with his hands on his knees.
Jamie Lee Dunne: Hey kid, let's go. Lock up like I showed you.
Weeaboo Jones: I, uh... I'm good actually, thanks.
Jamie Lee Dunne: What's wrong? Come on, let's go!
Weeaboo Jones: Actually I'd, uh... I'd kinda like to do the match like this if you don't mind...
Dunne grabs Jones anyway and tries his best to lock up, then swings round behind him to put on a full nelson hold that, er, stands him up straight...
Trevor: Sweet Jesus...
Skeeter: Holy shit on a stick he's gonna have someone's eye out with that thing!
Dunne turns the full nelson into an atomic drop...
Trevor: Well if THAT didn't knock the libido out of him I don't know what will...*
He then hits a springboard moonsault - goes for the cover...
One!
Two!
El Hijo de Jefe comes in to break it up! Then goes straight back to the outside without offering any further help!
Dunne gets Jones back up to his feet and gives him a couple of punches, then works himself into a position where he's caught up in a rear waistlock by Jones.
Trevor: Look at the, uh, SKILL by Jones, reversing into his own move! I think he's gonna go for a...
Skeeter: Come on... Do something!
Jamie Lee Dunne: Ok mate, make it look like you're lifting... Three, two, one...
Trevor: Big German suplex there by Weeaboo Jones!
Jones gets up and cheers for himself but his jubilation is cut short by Jefe tagging himself in.
El Hijo de Jefe: Ok El Hijo de Jefe tern! I win now!
Jefe goes straight in for the cover...
One!
Kick out!
El Hijo de Jefe: Whait tha fack! Ok, yuo cam back in!
Jefe tags Jones back in, and Dunne rolls over to his corner and tags Pixie in. Jones stops in his tracks as they both come through the ropes.
Jones literally can only stand and stare at Pixie as she comes towards him - she crashes into him with a crunching forearm smash that knocks him down, she grabs him up again, Irish whip - spinning kick to take him back down! She sits him up and puts on a sleeper hold!
Her boobs are practically resting on his shoulders!
Weeaboo Jones: Uh.... Oh.... Oh god...
She works the sleeper hold and then stands him up, she gets him into an abdominal stretch! Then drops him to the mat and puts on an armbar! Then sits on his chest and gives him some mounted punches! Then throws him into the corner and hits a body splash! Then a bearhug! Then... yeah, you get the picture. Eventually she heads up to the top rope. Jones tries to run away but Jefe pushes him back towards her - she jumps and hits a hurricanrana straight into a pin!
(Just imagine this is Pixie and Jones, ok?)
One!
Two!
Weeaboo Jones: UuuuuAaaghaAAAuuuUUUUaaaaaagghhhhhhhh...
Pixie Styx: Oh my god! Gross! Ew! Oh fuck no!
She breaks her own pinning attempt!
Trevor: What the hell she had him pinned! Why'd she go and do- oh.
Skeeter: Oh god it just gets worse.
Trevor: Weeaboo Jones should be thankful there's nobody here to see that... Well, 'cept fer me and you of course Skeeter. And Pixie, Dunne and El Hijo de Jefe. And everyone who's gonna watch this online.
Pixie runs to the corner and tags in Dunne once more as Jones gets up in shock at having a woman's crotch so close to his face, as well as all that followed. He looks completely lost, and turns around to eat a De-Atomizer Strike from Dunne!
Jones is legitimately knocked out and Dunne covers him-
One!
El Hijo de Jefe: Hey I not halp you but no I hear in spirit for yuo
Two!
El Hijo de Jefe: Cam on kid dount fak it ap
Three!
El Hijo de Jefe: Oh waht the hal yu sheit yuo fack it ap
Pixie and Dunne celebrate their win as Jones lays in the ring, probably concussed from taking a stiff finishing strike from a real wrestler. Jefe steps over the top rope and drags Jones to his feet before planting him with a vicious El Hijo de Jefeslam!
Trevor: That's a sore loser right there! He ain't lifted a finger to help this kid in his first match and now he's takin' it out on him fer losin by givin' him a huge chokeslam! This ain't what BYOB is all about!
Skeeter: No it ain't.
Trevor: I mean come on, at least use some weapons!
El Hijo de Jefe sulks back into the house, but not before trying to steal the Super Hardcore title from the commentary table. Skeeter sprays him with a bottle of water and Jefe - sorry, I mean El Hijo de Jefe - runs off.
Skeeter: Get! Get! That ain't fer you! We gonna crown a champion next! We need that!
NWA's "Quiet On Tha Set" is played over Mack Daddy's top-of-the-line sound system again and he swaggers out through the curtain smoking a big fat cigar. He has one of the karaoke microphones in his hand, the cable trailing behind him as he steps through the ropes.
Mack Daddy: So where my opponent at? Hey, Tervor, where are- oh, that's right! You can't come down here! How you doin' all the way up there? Ha ha! So since Trevor can't come out here right now, I think we all know who won this match. So I got me my victory cigar right here, all that's left is to bring me my championship!
We cut to the attic, where Pixie Stix is standing by with Trevor.
Pixie Styx: Trevor, you can't fight Mack Daddy for the title right now so surely he's right? You have to forfeit the match and award him the Super Hardcore Championship?
Trevor: Now that's just horse shit! Just cos I can't wrestle, don't mean he can't! You hear that, Mack? JUST CUZ I CAN'T WRESTLE DON'T MEAN YOU GET OFF LIGHTLY!
Mack Daddy: Ha! So what you gonna do? Make me wrestle "Nobody?" Yeah I ain't gonna lose THAT match like that fuckin' idiot Skeeter did!
Skeeter: Hey I'm sittin' right here man...
Trevor: Ha, you fuckin' wish. Nah Mack, you gonna be fightin' THIS guy!
Music hits seemingly from nowhere and the curtain is thrown aside as a monster of a man steps through! He's carrying a can of beer, he's swaying - he's clearly already been drinking!
Mack Daddy: Yo what the fuck! This guy's huge!
Skeeter: Oh shit! Mack Daddy you better run now!
Trevor: Meet my secret fuckin' weapon! Jason Ramone! Betcha ain't got a restrainin' order against HIM?
Mack Daddy: I gotta call my lawyer...
Mack Daddy fumbles for his phone as Ramone steps over the ropes and straight-up grabs him round the throat. The phone goes flying, the cigar goes flying from Mack's mouth, and Ramone pushes Mack back into the buckle.
Trevor: Ding fuckin' ding! Let's get it on!
Ramone is all over Mack Daddy from the get-go, he just smashes the shit out of him in the corner and all Mack Daddy can do is try to protect himself. He throws him out of the corner, gets up on the second buckle - big jumping big boot to Mack Daddy!
Skeeter: This Jason Ramone guy is pummelin' the fuck outta Mack Daddy!
Trevor: I know right? It's great!
Skeeter: It sure is! Hey, uh... Do you see what I see?
One corner of the ring is starting to smoke...
Skeeter: What the fuck is that all about?
Trevor: Beats me...
Suddenly the mattresses that make up the ring burst into flames.
Trevor: Oh shit! We got us a fire! Alright we gotta do something about this!
Skeeter: Sure thing Trevor, shall I call-
Trevor: ALRIGHT LISTEN UP YOU PUSSIES, THIS IS NOW AN INFERNO MATCH!
Ramone and Mack manage to escape the blaze as acrid smoke billows up from the center of the back yard. Mack Daddy tries to crawl away but Ramone leaps from the flames and tackles him to the ground! Daddy scrambles towards the commentary table with Ramone clinging on to his legs!
Mack grabs one of Skeeter's bottles of beer and turns round, then smashes it over Ramone's head!
Ramone reels, then tastes the cool liquid dripping down his face and... He seems to enjoy it.
Jason Ramone: More!
Mack grabs another bottle and smashes it over Ramone's head, more beer flows down Ramone's face and it only seems to spur him on!
Ramone lunges and hits a big spear on Mack Daddy, sending him crashing straight through the announce table!
Mack Daddy groans as he pulls himself from the wreckage, but he grabs the Super Hardcore Championship belt and clocks Ramone around the head with it. Finding his feet again, Mack jumps up on Ramone's back and chokes him, and tries to guide him towards the flames.
Skeeter: If Mack can push him into that fire then he'll win the title! And... Possibly kill a man!
Trevor: Ramone ain't one fer takin' orders though- he's turned round! He'll backdrop him into the fire instead!
Ramone does indeed turn round and Mack jumps off, sensing the danger. Ramone teeters and Mack rushes in with a forearm smash - Ramone moves! Mack now finds himself in dangerous territory, having to put on the brakes to avoid falling onto the fire!
Mack turns round - and Ramone clocks him! He goes for a powerbomb - but Mack stands up and drops him over his back, he stumbles as he tries to get away and then starts digging around in the flower bed at the edge of the garden.
Ramone goes over towards Mack Daddy - but gets waffled with a potted plant! Mack picks him up - he tries to walk over to the fire but Ramone is too heavy! He settles for a Scoop slam! He looks to the garden shed and then props a ladder up next to it. He drags Ramone up on to a nearby work bench and climbs to the top of the shed... Leg Drop off the roof of the shed!
Trevor: Oh crap! Mack just hit two signature moves in quick succession on Ramone!
Skeeter: Ramone might be out of it!
Trevor: Not if I can help it!
Mack Daddy and Ramone are both grounded and out of it, and Trevor pushes the attic window wide open.
Trevor: Ramone! Get up! Take this!
Trevor throws a crate of beers down towards Ramone. Ramone rolls over and he spots them.
Jason Ramone: Whaaaa.....
Trevor: Just drink 'em!
Ramone starts popping tabs and downing as much cheap beer as he can. Mack Daddy stirs and he gets to his feet. He kicks the cans away from Ramone, and that pisses the big man off. He gets up with fury in his eyes and towers over Mack Daddy - Mack Daddy slugs him, Ramone slugs him back! Daddy punches again, Ramone replies in kind!
The two men engage in a boxing match as they wobble across the yard, with Ramone still clutching two of the cans, from which he takes periodic chugs.
Skeeter: Ramone's put away a decent amount of beer in this match Trevor... Is he even gonna be able to carry on?
Ramone finds more of the beer cans that Mack kicked away. In between blows, he somehow finds time to pop those open too, and down them. Finally, they wind up precariously close to the flaming ring.
Skeeter: I can't watch! This is gonna be messy!
Both men are slugging each other with every last ounce of strength they have, and they're both so beat up that the punches are getting less and less frequent, with more time spent by each man just trying to stay standing up.
Mack Daddy swings, and rocks Ramone!
Ramone swings, and- oh! He misses!
Trevor: Oh shit!
Mack Daddy grins and goes for a big combo - a huge punch to the gut!
Jason Ramone: Urp-
A huge uppercut to the-
Jason Ramone: UUUUUUUUAAAAAARGGGHARRGHARGHAGRHAGH
Suddenly all that beer finds its way back to the surface as Ramone projectile vomits all over Mack Daddy!
Mack Daddy: What the- oh holy shit! Fucking sick! Jesus christ you-
Ramone suddenly grabs the puke-covered Mack Daddy and hits a huge Chokeslam!
Right into the middle of the fire!
Mack Daddy: Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh! Holy shit man I on fire! This real fire! Jesus fuck!
Ramone topples backwards and collapses as Mack Daddy bursts out of the fire, flames billowing from his clothes.
Mack Daddy: Shit! Shitshitshitshitshit!
Trevor: Hey Mack! Come over this way and I'll try to get ya! Don't say I ain't ever do nuthin' for ya!
Trevor stands at the attic window - pissing out of it and trying to aim for Mack Daddy as he frantically stops, drops and rolls.
Trevor: That's for Plank, you sonovabitch!
Skeeter: Yo man I think they both dead.
Trevor: Ah, he'll be alright. I'll call the Good Doctor to come back and put some ice on Mack. And nobody ever died from drinkin' too much.
Jason Ramone: Ugh... My head... Where the fuck am I?
Ramone sits up and rubs his head as Trevor comes downstairs - Mack's basically in a coma so Trevor don't give no shits about his restraining order right now.
Trevor: Here is your winner, and the new Super Hardcore Champion - Jason Ramone!
He hands Ramone the toy belt and raises his hand as Ramone looks around, completely dumbfounded by his surroundings.
Jason Ramone: Ohhh yeahhh... I think I remember signing up for something about wrestling... I dunno, I was probably drunk...
Trevor: You sure were, buddy. You sure were.