THE ULTIMATE ANTI-HERO
Battles between various TV commercial & infomercial spokespeople, spokesanimals, spokethings, and the products themselves.

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ROUND EIGHTY EIGHT: THAT SODDING URINOUS-YELLOW WALL*MART SMILEY vs. THAT STUPID SODDING QUEER 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND.
This unholy battle for the ages takes place within the aisles of a large Wall*Mart. The store is equipped with the kinds of things that you'd expect to find within the aisles of a large Wall*Mart. The employee's can is equipped with Kohler K-4917-0 14-3/4" Vitreous wall-mounted porcelain uranators outfitted with Sloan spud valves, white Kohler Cimarron toliets, an unknown brand of toliet paper dispenser with Scott brand toliet paper in it, a very stinky soured mop in a dirty plastic pale with truly disgusting mop water still in it (in the men's room), a filthy roller towel (in the women's room), and a freestanding tampon vending machine (also in the women's room).

Since that stupid, sodding, urinous-yellow Wall*Mart Smiley has the homefield adantage, it strikes first. It bounces into the packaged dinners section, grabs a box of Wall*Mart brand hamburger enhancement product, rips the top off, and tries to pepper that stupid sodding queer Hamburger Harmer Hand with it. The Hand sniffs and snuffles at that goddamn cream-colored powder, wrinkles up its big red nose (its nose is so huge that you'd swear that the Hand has a $2,458.77-a-day coke habit and is so red that it was also an alkie!), and shouts, "WALL*MART HAMBURGER ENHANCEMENT PRODUCT...MAKES A SHITTY MEAL!!!" as though it would phase that stupid, sodding, urinous-yellow Wall*Mart Smiley...well it doesn't!
And do you know why, you little prick?
It's because the Wall*Mart Smiley does not have ears, you four-fingered deformed piss ant!!!

That stupid sodding queer Hamburger Harmer Hand goes on the warpath now...it grabs a real box of Hamburger Harmer off the shelf, tears the top off, and dumps the shit on top of the Wall*Mart Smiley. The Smiley coughs and gags on the poisonous dark cream-colored powder, bounces to the restroom, jumps in the lavatory, and douches itself off under the faucet.

The Hand and the Smiley meet up in the camping & outdoor goods aisle. The Smiley grabs the high-domed lid off a display model bright green Wagner Char-King Imperiale grill {"Wagner" is pronounced as though it were spelled, "Vaugner"}, and chases the Hand around until it ends up in the hunting & fishing aisle.

The Hand jumps behind the counter, grabs a Remington 12-GA double-barrel shotgun from the floor, quickly rises up & takes aim, and hoses down the Wall*Mart Smiley with the gun!!!

And the winn...O WAIT!!! When the Hand tries to unload the second barrel into that stupid, sodding, urinous-yellow Wall*Mart Smiley's dead, lifeless body, the gun misfires!!! The explosion from the gun's chamber catches that stupid sodding queer Hamburger Harmer Hand full on, and it too eats it!!

THE WINNER ROUND EIGHTY EIGHT: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!



ROUND EIGHTY NINE: MORRIS THE CAT vs. THAT STUPID SODDING QUEER 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND.
This battle shall take place in the kitchen of a Taco Bell restaraunt. The available weapons and defenses are: three open (lidless) deep fat fryers, a carving station outfitted with various sizes of unserrated knives, a number of ovens for heating taco shells, making burritos, etc., two large gas-fired griddles for making taco meat, a motorised marinal chamber, three cases of Nine Lives canned cat food with an expiration date of October 1982, and six rather heavy cash registers.

The restrooms are equipped with Kohler K-4917-0 14-3/4" Vitreous wall-mounted porcelain uranators with Sloan spud valves, white Kohler Cimarron toliets, a ROLLSAVR brand toliet paper dispenser (the phrase, "BETCHYA YOU CAN'T USE JUST ONE!" is written directly above it in very neat block lettering with a black Magic Marker), a soured mop in a dirty plastic pale with truly disgusting mop water still in it (in the men's room), a filthy roller towel (in the women's room), and a freestanding tampon vending machine (also in the women's room).

Morris gets off to a flying start here because he's a cat, not a snail-slow hand for Christ sakes. He starts off by grabbing one of the knives off the carving station, stalks that stupid sodding queer Hamburger Harmer Hand around the kitchen, and lunges toward the Hand, fully intent on ripping its bunghole off...er...uh...I mean, "STABBING THE HAND IN THE BACK".
Just then, a car drives up toward the drive-through window and its headlights momentarily blind Morris so that his deadly stab of the gleaming steel blade misses the Hand.

Now it's the Hand's turn to go on the offensive. It somehow procures a glass Erlenmyer flask of aqua regia and proceeds to dump it in Morris' litter box. Since Morris pisses & shits outside though, this tactic fails rather miserably.

Morris now goes to the motorised marinal chamber, grabs two packets of marination, rips the tops off, dumps those bitches into the marinator, and pours in sixteen cups of boiling water. He grabs a wooden spoon from a nearby counter, and stirs that shit up. What this was supposed to do to phase that goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand may never be known.

Since that goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand is still on the loose, Morris hides behind the walk-in cooler to think of something else. Meanwhile, the Hand goes right for the Nine Lives cat food cans, opens up a couple of those rusty fuckers, gets a whiff of the long ago-expired cat food, and shouts, "PISS YOU!!! THIS COCKSUCKING SHIT REALLY FUCKING REEKS!!!" as the red color drains from its big alcoholic nose -- which soon becomes as white as new-fallen snow.

Meanwhile, Morris just somehow comes up with a box of Hamburger Helper (an employee accidentally left her bag of groceries in the women's room I believe), rips the top off that bitch, and dumps it into the litterbox. That goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand is immediately attracted to the odour of the Hamburger Helper, climbs into the litterbox that he booby-trapped himself just a short time ago, and is immediately dissolved by the acid in there and is quickly convered into worm food.

THE WINNER ROUND EIGHTY NINE: MORRIS THE CAT!!!
(You really didn't think that I'd kill a precious, innocent little kitty cat, did you?)



ROUND NINETY: THAT STUPID SODDING QUEER 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND vs. THOSE GODDAMN QUEER RICE CRISPIES ELVES
This battle shall take place in the factory that makes Rice Crispies cereal; this factory is right next door to the one that makes Suave shampoo (or in some cases, "shampotty"). The factory floor is equipped with what you'd expect to see in a cereal factory: conveyor belts, huge steaming vats, a box-forming machine, a closet containing leather gloves, safety vests, hard hats, and other assorted foo-foo (items of that nature); and the employee's can contains an unflushed American Standard toliet with cistern and standard flushing mechanism, a Kohler K-4917-0 14-3/4" Vitreous wall-mounted porcelain uranator with a Sloan spud valve, a busted lavatory (bathroom sink), a Lily toliet paper dispenser with Scott brand toliet paper in it, a sopping wet very soured & stinky mop in a rusty metal mop bucket, and a filthy roller towel.

The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

Those goddamn queer Rice Crispies elves get off to a rip-roaring start here because they're on home soil. Their first stop is the john, where they unroll a large quantity of bungwipe, and wad that shit up so that the dimunitive little {somewhat vulgar slang term for multiple piddle wingless hymenoptera} can carry it down the hall and onto the factory floor. They corner that goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand underneath a conveyor belt, yell, "SNAP! CRACKLE! POP! Into your morning!!!" in near-unison, and try to wrap the Hand with the bungwipe in hopes of suffocating it. But the Hand can breathe through the buttwipe, chews this big-ass hole on it, and extricates himself from the TP prison!

That goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand goes right on the offensive without so much as a cigarette break. He runs right to the john, grabs that fucking yucky soured string mop, and goes back out on the factory floor on the prowl for those queer little piss ants. He searches for awhile, and eventully finds the little shits cowering behind a box-forming machine. The Hand then aims that fucking stinky soured string mop ahead, and charges at the Rice Crispies elves! ***SPLAT!!!*** goes that smelly, stinky mophead directly against the faces of two of those little bastards; the third is douched with that fucking stinky yucky mop water but the mop itself misses him by several centimeters.

Those little piss ants are so filthy and stinky and gross, they run full steam ahead into the employee's can, form a little ladder from their own bodies, and soon make it up to the lavatory but when they turn the water on, nothing comes out!!! So they climb back down and make a beeline for the water closet. The little fuckers jump into the bowl but find that some fuckweed (a real dillhole left a big fat sewer pickle in it but forgot to flush! YUCKO!!!

That goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand follows the Rice Crispies Elves into the head, sees them struggling in the brown toliet bowl water, and decides to 'help' them out of their predicament...so it climbs up the shitbowl, reaches for that little chrome-colored handle on the upper left corner of the cistern (toliet tank), and yanks it down. The john begins to flush...but O NOOOO!!! The Hand slips on the pee all over the toliet seat, falls into the water while the toliet's flushing, and follows those goddamn queer Rice Crispies Elves down to Davy Jones' locker!!!

THE WINNER ROUND NINETY: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!



ROUND NINETY ONE: THE LIQUID PLUMBR FOAMING PIPE SNAKE "DESTRUCTION CREW" vs. THAT STUPID SODDING QUEER 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND.
This battle shall take place in the bathroom of a woman with a clogged water closet (toliet). The bathroom is equipped with the kinds of things normally found in a bathroom. Don't expect this battle to be long & protracted like many of the others, because the "bubbles" in the Liquid Plumr Foaming Pipe Snake have a rather short lifespan.

The Liquid Plumbr Foaming Pipe Snake "destruction crew" goes down the toliet, but come right back up when they find that some dillhole clogged the shitter with a big fat sewer pickle. They immediately go after our cute-as-a-bug Hamburger Helper Hand. But OOOOOOO NOOOOOOO!!!!!!! The Liquid Plumbr Foaming Pipe Snake "destruction crew" is beginning to lose structural integrity due to the prolonged exposure to the atmosphere, causing them to desiccate (dry out) and subsequently begin popping!!!

They make one last-ditch effort...they form a "bubble chain" to the bathroom floor, strategically eat through it (just by virtue of touching it!) into the shape of a saucepan, hoping to entice that goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand into the hole in the floor...SUCCESS!!! The Hand falls into the hole, and those stupid sodding gay bubbles start chipping at it with pick axes, sledgehammers, and other tools just like they do on TV.

The Hand passes micturition (urine) and defecation (feces) as it dies and is soon thereafter converted into worm food!!!

THE WINNER ROUND NINETY ONE: THE LIQUID PLUMBR FOAMING PIPE SNAKE "DESTRUCTION CREW"!!!



ROUND NINETY TWO: THE SODDING HOMOSEXUAL GEICO GECKO vs. THAT STUPID SODDING QUEER 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND.
This battle for the ages shall take place on the set of the Geico insurance commercial. The set is equipped with the kind of things you might expect: boom microphones on long poles, large video cameras on wheeled dollies, portable carpeted walls on casters, thousands of watts of hot light bulbs, a utility closet with numerous cans of white paint, and assorted & sundry stage props appropriate for a Geico Insurance ad.

The employee's can is outfitted with a Kohler K-4917-0 14-3/4" vitreous wall-mounted porcelain uranator with a Sloan spud valve, a black Kohler Rialto one-piece toliet, a Cormatic brand toliet paper dispenser with a very small amount of Scott brand toliet paper in it (the dispenser has the phrase, "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM!!!" neatly scratched onto it with the blade of a knife), a soured mop in a dirty plastic pale, and a severely dented metal swing-top wastepaperbasket.

Also present for reasons as-of-yet known are two boxes of Hamburger Helper, a medium-sized mixing bowl, and a large slotted spoon.

The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

That sodding homosexual Geico Gecko gets out of the gates first because it has homefield advantage. It spies a large folding pocketknife that one of the employees (a camera grip, I believe) left behind. It grabs the knife, unfolds it, and skitters across the set with it. It corners that goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand behind a large camera, and repeatedly lunges after it with the knife. But the Hand is unexpectedly spunky & spry, and dodges each thrust of the gleaming carbon steel blade. The Gecko poops out, and slinks away behind another camera to recharge (probably by halfway drowning itself in a plastic cup of Caff-Pow).

That goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand sees the Hamburger Helper, and starts mixing that shit up. The Gecko, at least partially recharged, sneaks out from behind the camera and is horrified to see that the goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand took a Magic Marker and crossed out "Hamburger", then added the word "Gecko" on the front of the box in very neat, large block lettering. That's really bad news for our little lizard friend!!! (well, it would be truly horriffic if there was an oven on the Geico Insurance set!).

That goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand goes after that stupid sodding homosexual lizard with that fake-ass faggoty British accent; it picks up the same knife that the Gecko used to try and kill him just a bit earlier. The Hand chases the little asshaberdasher around the set for awhile, eventually getting it cornered in the employee's can. Hand slams the bathroom door so that the little green homosexual dickhead can't escape.

The Gecko sees only one way out: there's a small hole in the wall directly above the uranator's water inlet pipe...it wastes no time in skittering up the wall on the right side of the pisscan, climbing on top of the pisser's spud valve, and trying like fuck to squeeze into that itty bitty hole. That goddamn sodding queer Hamburger Helper Hand takes the pocketknife and starts hacking off pieces of that stupid sodding homosexual lizard's tail, then takes care of its back legs, then it slices off its fragile front legs, then whacks its pee-pee, and finally, saws off its sack...er...uh...I mean, "SAWS OFF ITS HEAD"!!!

The Gecko passes micturition (potty) and defecation (poo-poo) as it dies and is soon thereafter converted into worm food!!!

THE WINNER ROUND NINETY TWO: THAT STUPID SODDING QUEER 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND!!!
(Hey, it has to win at least one of these battles if it's going to stay in the game!!!)



ROUND NINETY THREE: THE SODDING FAGGOTY AFLAC GOAT vs. THAT GODDAMN HOMOSEXUAL 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND.
This fight shall take place in a cubicle of an Aflac office. The cubicle is equipped with the types of items you would expect: a wheeled office chair, a desk with Aflac paperwork stuffed into many of its drawers, a plastic cup brimming with disposable ballpoint pens, a multiple-line telephone, an IBM Selectric typewriter, a red Swingline stapler, a ream of white paper, a desktop computer terminal with 15" green phosphor monitor connected to a central mainframe via a pair of thin cables, freestanding carpeted walls, a roll of Scotch transparent tape, and a plastic Rubbermaid wastepaperbasket.

The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

That sodding faggoty Aflac Goat rushes to offense here first not only because it's on home soil, but because that goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand doesn't have a fucking clue here since this isn't a residential kitchen or a shopping mall. The Aflac Goat goes right for the disposable pens, and launches them like miniature ballistic missiles toward that goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand. But apparently that sodding faggoty Aflac Goat has terrible aim, because all of the pens miss the Hand by a mile!

Before the Hand can retaliate, that sodding faggoty Aflac Goat picks up the red Swingline stapler, opens that bitch up, and uses it like a semiautomatic pistol to fire its cargo of staples across the room! Many of the staples miss, but a fair number of them reach their target, causing the Hand to exclaim in pain, "STAPLE HELPER! MAKES A SHITTY MEAL!!!"
But that's all it does -- make the Hand shout a couple of sentences with a bit of toilet tongue in them!

That goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand goes on the rag nex...er...ummm...I mean, "GOES ON THE ATTACK" next. It goes right for the multiline telphone, grabs a pair of scissors off the desk, and snips the cord off the phone (I guess the Hand never got the memmo that the cord is modular, hahaha!!!), sneaks up behind that sodding faggoty Aflac Goat, and tries to strangulate it by winding the cord 'round and 'round its neck. But the goat chews right through the wire (it's a GOAT for Satan sakes and goats love to chew up metal!) and permanently neutralises the death coil around its neck!

That sodding faggoty Aflac Goat goes for the desktop computer now. It unplugs that monitor, carries it toward that goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand, sneaks directly over it, and throws it down as hard as it can at the Hand -- resulting in the Hand being rather handily flattened! Parts like intestines, liver, lungs, etc. splatter all over the place, the Hand passes micturition (piss) and defecation (shit) as it dies and is soon thereafter converted into worm food!!!

That sodding faggoty Aflac Goat, oblivious to the bloody mess on the floor with all of those slimey black things oozing out from around the monitor, goes to the desk, disembowels the IBM Selectric typewriter, noisily devours its metal typing ball, and nonchalantly walks out of the office.

THE WINNER ROUND NINETY THREE: THE SODDING FAGGOTY AFLAC GOAT!!!



ROUND NINETY FOUR: ONE OF THOSE SODDING FAGGOTY KIA "RAPPING RATS" vs. THAT GODDAMN HOMOSEXUAL 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND.
(yes, they live to play again -- after all, this is only TV folks!!!)
This battle shall take place on an urban street. The street has what you'd expect to see on a city street: there are light standards equipped with 400W high-pressure sodium (HPS) bulbs, overhead trolley wires electrified to a potential of 750 volts DC, there are two metal mesh wastepaperbaskets, one large blue "outgoing-only" mail receptacle, one newspaper vending machine stocked with 47 copies of today's Fairbanks Daily News-Miner newspaper (which is somewhat odd because this isn't Fairbanks!), and one end of the street has train tracks very heavily used by freight trains powered by EMD (ElectroMotive Diesel) locomotives. Parked on the street are a 1986 Honda Accord sporting a dull baby shit brown paint finish (the doors are locked but the keys are still in the ignition) and (again with the keys already in the ignition) a 2014 Kia Soul with a custom lime green paint job.

As is usual, the contestants do not necessarily have to *USE* everything here, but all listed items are at their disposal.

Since that sodding faggoty Kia "Rapping Rat" (yes, it 'plays for the other team' hahaha!!!) is on its home turf and because that goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand doesn't have a fucking clue here since this isn't a residential kitchen or a shopping mall, the rat takes first blood in this battleo. He tries to disable that goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand with that godforsaken rap music: a heavy drum track (somewhat reminescent of the Arrid Extra Dry aerosol armpit deodouriser commercials from several decades ago) somehow magically issues from the Accord's stereo speakers, while the Kia Rapping Rat raps, "You can go with this, or you can go with that. You can go with this, or you can go with that. You can go with this, or you can go with that."
The Hand is generally unphased by the aural assault -- it's a hand for Christ sakes, and hands don't have ears you dumbfuck stupid-ass rat!!!

That goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand goes directly to that Honda Accord(ion), jimmies the front driver's side door open, rips the keys out of the ignition, and hucks them as far away as it can -- somewhat permanently neutralising this potential threat.

That sodding faggoty Kia "Rapping Rat" climbs up one of the light standards, unscrews the high-pressure sodium vapour bulb, and lobs it at the Hand. It misses; the bulb simply explodes with a rather loud ***POW!!!*** as it hits the street.

The goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand wrestles a tire iron from the trunk of the Accord, crouches behind the left rear tire of the Honda, and lies in wait for that sodding faggoty Kia "Rapping Rat"...it doesn't have to wait too long! The rat soon enters weapons range, and the Hand swings at it with the tire iron as hard as it can!!!
But O NOOOOOO!!! Since the Hand only has three fingers plus a thumb, the tire iron rather promptly slips from the Hand's grasp and flies uselessly into the weeds in the roadside ditch!

That sodding faggoty Kia "Rapping Rat" gets into the Kia, starts the motor, and puts it in gear. However, unbeknownst to him, he has an unwelcome passenger! That's right, that goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand is riding shotgun, hiding under the front passenger seat! The Kia starts to roll down the street, and slowly creeps to a stop directly on the choo-choo train tracks. An EMD locomotive appears out of nowhere and starts tooting its horn to warn the sodding faggoty Kia "Rapping Rat" that it needs to get off the tracks, and get off the tracks NOW!

The rat, being too small and lightweight, can't depress the accelerator pedal, and the train soon collides with that POS Kia, causing both the rat and the hand to become converted into black and grey goo!!!

Parts like intestines, livers, stomachs, esophaguses, kidneys, bladders, bungholes, spleens, lungs, etc. splatter all over the place, the Hand and the Rat pass defecation (crapola) as they die and are soon thereafter converted into worm food!!!

THE WINNER ROUND NINETY FOUR: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!



ROUND NINETY FIVE: PROGRESSIVE INSURANCE FLO "HO" vs. THAT GODDAMN HOMOSEXUAL 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND.
This fight shall take place on the set of the Progressive insurance commercial. The set is equipped with the kind of things you might expect: boom microphones on long poles, large video cameras on wheeled dollies, portable carpeted walls on casters, thousands of watts of hot light bulbs, a utility closet with numerous cans of white paint, and assorted & sundry stage props appropriate for a Progressive Insurance ad. Also present is that roller skating disco prick with the ghetto blaster on his shoulder. The employee's bathroom is outfitted with a Kohler K-4917-0 14-3/4" vitreous wall-mounted porcelain uranator with a Sloan spud valve, a black Kohler Rialto one-piece toliet, a Cormatic brand toliet paper dispenser with Scott brand toliet paper in it (the dispenser has the phrase, "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM" very neatly written on it with black magic marker), an extremely stinky soured string mop in a filthy plastic pale (with fucking gross dark brownish-grey mop water still in it), and a metal swing-top wastepaperbasket.

Additionally, the parking lot has a number of automobiles parked in it, including a white 1999 Dodge Caravan, a fire engine red Ford F-150 pickup truck, a teal 2009 Toyota Camry, and a 1976 Pontiac Grand Prix sporting a dull baby shit brown paint finish.

The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

Since the Flo "biotch" is so slow, that goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand (yes, it 'plays for the other team' hahaha!!!) makes the first move here. He comes up to Flo, and tries to box her ears! But the Hand's fingers aren't nearly long enough to do the job, so chalk this up as a miserable failure.

Flo disappears for a moment, then sneaks up behind the Hand and shouts, "At Progressive, you can choose the insurance that suits you!" as though it would phase that fucking homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand, but the Hand is not affected by the sonic barrage in the least!
And do you know why, you pitiful excuse for a used douche?
It's because that goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand is a HAND for Christ sakes, and hands do not have ears!!!

Just then, that asinine talking box from Progressive appears apparently out of nowhere, climbs a steel trellis of sorts (to a height of ~47 feet!), grabs a rather handily-placed man's bowling ball, waits a few seconds until the Hand is directly below, and drops the bowling ball whilst yelling, "CANNONBOOOOOXXX!!!!"

The bowling ball falls with an uncharacteristic whistling noise like a WWII bomb, and the Hand looks up just in time to see it and shout in that stereotypical very low, very slowed down voice, "OOOOO NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

The bowling ball smashes directly on top of that goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand, parts like intestines, liver, stomach, esophaguse, kidneys, bladder, bunghole, spleen, lungs, etc. splatter all over the place, the Hand passes defecation (poo-poo) as it dies and is soon thereafter converted into worm food!!!

THE WINNER ROUND NINETY FIVE: THAT PITIFUL EXCUSE FOR A USED DOUCHE, "FLO"!!!



ROUND NINETY SIX: GEICO "KASH" vs. THAT GODDAMN HOMOSEXUAL 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND.
This round takes place in an ordinary pet owning household. The dog is sleeping on the gosh darn-diddly-arn bed again, and that goddamned cat is probably pissing in its owner's underwear drawer because some asswipe forgot to clean out the litterbox again (the owner wonders why his Fruit of the Looms always smell like cat pee, but has yet to put two and two together!) In the garbage drawer, there is the usual trash: a broken flashlight, leaking batteries, rusty scissors, a half-used ball of string, etc. The wash room is equipped with a top-load washer and a front-load dryer. Under the kitchen sink is the usual assortment of name brand cleaning & drain care chemicals. The bathroom is equipped with a black Kohler brand Rialto toliet and some Cleanax Cottonelle toliet paper is in the dispenser immediately to the right of the water closet; the medicine cabinet is stocked with normal remedies and cosmetics. Between the mattresses in the master bedroom is a small baggie of dope and a bowl to smoke it in.

The contestants do not necessarily have to *USE* everything listed here, but they *ARE* at their disposal.

For the benefit of those who just might not know, Kash is that pile of paper money with 'googly eyes' that Geico used in TV commercials several years ago.

That goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand has somewhat of a homefield advantage here, so it attacks first. It goes right to the garbage drawer and fishes out those scissors. It then proceeds to chase Kash around the house with them, fully intent on ripping its bunghole off!!! But Kash is unexpectedly spry & spunky, and easily dodges every thrust of those rusty old scissors!

That goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand begins to poop out, and takes refuge behind a potted plant to recharge for a short time.

Meanwhile (as Hand is regenerating), Kash goes to the kitchen and starts mixing some Hamburger Helper in a large mixing bowl. Hand peeks out from behind that plant and is horrified by what he sees next: Kash had taken some Liquid PaperŪ, brushed it over the word, "Hamburger" on the box of Hamburger Helper, then took a black Magic Marker and very neatly wrote the word, "HAND" on it!!! Kash then preheats the oven to 625°F (329.4°C), opens the oven door for reasons not yet known, and begins to think about he may lure the Hand into the death oven.

That goddam queer Hand has to think of a way to dispatch Kash, and kill him QUICKLY!!!

That goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand gets the bright idea to simply drown Kash in the sink...so it fills both bowls of the double-bowl kitchen sink, then lures Kash up there, saying, "15 minutes could save you 15%!"

Kash is intrigued -- it seems to work! That sodding pile of money goes over to the sink, Hand kicks Kash in the testicles, Kash falls into the water, and starts kicking and struggling! BUT O NOOOOOO!!!! In its death throes, one of Kash's involuntary kicks hits that goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand right in the gut, and it goes flying from the sink to the oven!!! The homeowner comes home right at that moment, wonders who the fuck left the oven door open, and nonchalantly closes it. That goddamn homosexual Hamburger Helper Hand is soon converted into fish food!!!

THE WINNER ROUND NINETY SIX: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!



ROUND NINETY SEVEN: THAT SODDING GAY SNUGGLES DRYER BEAR vs. THAT GODDAMN BISEXUAL 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND.
This event shall take place in the bathroom and (toward the end) the wash room in the home of an ordinary middle-class household. The bathroom is equipped with the usual: a black Kohler Rialto toliet, a vanity with sink and a medicine cabinet (stocked with the usual meds & remedies), and a bathtub. The wash room is equipped with what you'd expect: there is a top load washing machine and a front load dryer in it. Of course, there's the obligatory bottle of Snuggles brand fabric softener in the cabinet above the washer.

The contestants do not necessarily have to *USE* everything listed here, but they *ARE* at their disposal.

Since nobody really has the advantage of being on home soil, the first one on the scene takes first blood...and in this battle it will be that sodding gay Snuggles Dryer Bear. He hops up first on the edge of the pooper, then up to the vanity. He opens the medicine cabinet, and rifles through its contents for a short time, finally retrieving a bottle of Nasonex nasal spray. When that goddamn bisexual four-fingered piece of shit Hamburger Helper Hand (yes, it likes both meat and fish, hahaha!!!) comes in looking for some Hamburger Helper, that sodding gay Snuggles Dryer Bear aims the Nasonex directly at him, shouts, "NASONEX...DAY OR NIGHT" in that high-pitched faggoty voice, directs (aims) the Nasonex at the Hand, and gives the bottle a healthy squeeze. But nothing happened!

And do you know why nothing happened, you gay-ass furry little piss ant?
It's because you didn't take the damn cap off the damn bottle -- that's why!!!

That goddamn bisexual four-fingered piece of shit Hamburger Helper Hand realises that he was the target of the attack, and goes on the rampage! It unrolls a massive amount of bungwipe from the holder immediately to the right of the shitbowl, and quickly skitters behind that sodding gay Snuggles Dryer Bear. It wraps layer upon layer of asswipe around Snuggles' head, hoping like H-E-Double-Bendy-Straws to suffocate the life out of it. But after several long minutes of the stupid sodding laundry bear thrashing about and nothing at all happening, the Hand gives up.

And do you know why nothing happened, you fucking piece of shit four-fingered prick?
It's because that sodding gay Snuggles Dryer Bear is a teddy bear, and teddy bears do not need to breathe for Satan sakes!!!

That sodding gay Snuggles Dryer Bear converts to attack mode next...it grabs an oh-so-conveniently placed box of Hamburger Helper, rips the top off that bitch, pours a bit of hot water into it from the faucet (this causes the Hamburger Helper to become quite odourous), and waits a short time for the Hand to catch the aroma. That sodding gay Snuggles Dryer Bear doesn't have to wait long...within several seconds, that goddamn bisexual four-fingered piece of shit Hamburger Helper Hand catches a whiff of it, and makes a beeline to the kitchen. Once the Hand is within visual range, that sodding gay Snuggles Dryer Bear starts to move away, down the hall, and into the wash room. It flips the dryer door open, and tosses the (now slightly soggy) box of Hamburger Harmer in. The Hand hops into the dryer next (following the aroma of the Hamburger Harmer). That sodding gay Snuggles Dryer Bear wastes no time in kicking the dryer door shut, setting the controls to "More Dry" and extra high heat, and starts that motorised Hand-destroying satanic robot death machine!

That goddamn bisexual four-fingered piece of shit Hamburger Helper Hand soon succumbs to the dryer's heat and rotation, and eats it (becomes worm food).

THE WINNER ROUND NINETY SEVEN: THAT SODDING GAY SNUGGLES DRYER BEAR!!!



ROUND NINETY EIGHT: THAT SODDING QUEER AFLAC DUCK vs. THAT GODDAMN BISEXUAL 4-FINGERED HAMBURGER HELPER HAND.
This fight shall take place in a cubicle of an Aflac office. The cubicle is equipped with the types of items you would expect to find in a little piece of shit office cubicle: there is a wheeled office chair, a desk with Aflac paperwork stuffed into many of its drawers, a plastic cup brimming with disposable ballpoint pens, a multiple-line telephone, an IBM Selectric typewriter, a red Swingline stapler, a ream of white paper, a desktop computer terminal with 15" green phosphor monitor connected to a central mainframe via a pair of thin cables, freestanding carpeted walls, a roll of Scotch transparent tape, and a plastic Rubbermaid wastepaperbasket.

The employee's can is outfitted with a Kohler K-4917-0 14-3/4" vitreous wall-mounted porcelain uranator with a Sloan spud valve, a black Kohler Rialto one-piece toliet, a Rollsavr brand toliet paper dispenser with generic single-ply toliet tissue in it (the dispenser has the phrase, "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM!!!" very neatly written on it with black magic marker; and the bungwipe is single-ply because the asshaberdasher who leases the office is too goddamn cheap to have 2-ply buttwipe put in!), an extremely stinky soured string mop in a filthy plastic pale (with fucking gross dark brownish-grey mop water still in it), and a metal swing-top wastepaperbasket.

The contestants do not necessarily have to *USE* everything listed here, but they *ARE* at their disposal.

Since that sodding queer Aflac Duck (yes, it really is a homosexicle) is on its home turf, it goes first.
It corners that goddamn bisexual four-fingered piece of shit Hamburger Helper Hand under the desk, and starts quacking quite loudly, "AFLAC!!! AFLAC!!! AFLAC!!!" as if it would phase that goddamn bisexual four-fingered piece of shit Hamburger Helper Hand.

It doesn't.
And do you know why, you loud feathered little prick?
It's because that goddamn bisexual four-fingered piece of shit Hamburger Helper Hand is a HAND, and hands don't have ears for Satan sakes!!!

The Hand goes to offense now...it goes for that red Swingline stapler, opens that bitch up, and starts firing staples at that sodding queer Aflac Duck as though the stapler were a semiautomatic pistol! The staples follow a mainly ballistic trajectory with most of them silently landing in the rug, but a few of them hit their target. The duck quacks loudly, uses its beak to pluck the staples out of its feathers, and hides behind the office wastepaperbasket to think up its next offensive maneuver.

That sodding queer Aflac Duck soon emerges from hiding, flies up to the top of the desk, and pries the typing ball out of that IBM Selectric typewriter. It then somehow comes up with an Erlenmeyer flask of concentrated sulphuric acid, turns the typewriter ball so that the open end faces up, and pours some of the acid into the ball. The acid fizzes & smokes, and the sodding queer Aflac Duck quickly throws the rapidly disintegrating acid-filled ball into the wastepaperbasket.

It then spies that monitor...it unplugs the cables from it, waits for that goddamn bisexual four-fingered piece of shit Hamburger Helper Hand to come in front of the desk, and hurls the monitor at it as hard as he can!!!

POW!!! goes the monitor as it impacts the floor (and the vacuum is relieved in its CRT) directly to the Hand's right!
Damn, the duck misses!
But don't count the duck out just yet...it quickly unplugs the typewriter, and hurls that at the Hand!

***THUD!!!*** ***SPLUT!!!*** goes the typewriter as it hits that goddamn bisexual four-fingered piece of shit Hamburger Helper Hand straight on!!! That goddamn bisexual four-fingered piece of shit Hamburger Helper Hand (well, it ain't "bisexual" any more -- it's just about dead!!!) passes micturition (potty) as it dies and rather quickly becomes worm food.

THE WINNER ROUND NINETY EIGHT: THAT SODDING QUEER AFLAC DUCK!!!







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