THE ULTIMATE ANTI-HERO
Battles between various TV commercial & infomercial spokespeople, spokesanimals, spokethings, and the products themselves.
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ROUND FIFTY: MORRIS THE CAT vs. THAT GODDAMN QUEER TACO BELL DOG
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 December 1977, 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 with the phrase "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM!" scratched into it with what appears to have been the tip of a pocketknife, a soured mop in a dirty plastic pale (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 the Cat gets off to a flying start here because he's so damn hungry (he's a finicky little fucker who snubs his nose at ordinary canned cat food). He finds some burrito "fixings" in the walk-in cooler, sniffs & snuffles at the shit for a moment, meows "PISS YOU THAT FUCKING REEKS!!!", and then lobs it at that goddamn queer Taco Bell dog who's always running for the border (he must be a doper, man!!) The burrito fixings miss the dog and splatter harmlessly against the wall behind and just to his right.
That goddamn queer Taco Bell dog counters by going to one of the taco building stations, checking the wastepaperbasket underneath for and relieving it of some rotten tomatoes, and lobs those smelly fuckers at Morris the Cat. The pieces of rotten fruit {yes folks, tomatoes are a fruit and not a vegetable!} whiz through the air on a collision course with a certain kitty cat...and *SPLAT!!!* Got that fucker right between the eyes!!! (Pretty damn good aim for a stoner!!!)
Morris runs to the employee's restroom, pries the door open with his claws, runs to the uranator, and douches out his stinging eyes by (what else?)...flushing the fucker of course. He dries off with some paper towels, shitcans them, and tears out of the restroom looking for that goddamn queer Taco Bell dog.
Morris quickly finds the asinine fucker, who is shouting "YO QUIERO TACO BELL!!!" ("Taco Bell is gay?!?") in that phoney-balogna Mexican accent directly into one of the mics at the drive-through station. The customer drives his car up to the takeout window, whips out a big-ass pistol, and hoses that pussywhipped piece of shit chiuhaha{sp?} down with it...Morris jumps out and accidentally into the path of the car and is rather quickly flattened as well!!!
The heat-packing customer never did get his Tacos Bell Grande and Crunch Wrap Supreme BTW...which he *DID* pay for...talk about shitty service!!!
THE WINNER ROUND FIFTY: MUTUAL ANNHILATION -- A DISGRUNTLED CUSTOMER HOSES THE DOG DOWN WITH HIS .45 AND MORRIS IS ACCIDENTALLY RUN OVER SHORTLY THEREAFTER!!!
ROUND FIFTY ONE: THAT GODDAMN QUEER HONEY NUT CHEERIOS® BEE vs. THAT GODDAMN QUEER MONEY TREE CATERPILLAR
This battle shall take place in a pet-owning household. The kitchen is equipped with a double-bowl sink & garbage disposal, refrigerator, range, and numerous small TV infomercial appliances. Under the sink, there are several containers of Raid™ in aerosol bombs, 47 cans of Alpo® brand dog food, two bags of Purina® Cat Chow™ for the family cat -- which is probably piddling in its owner's sock drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his socks always smell like cat pee, but has yet to put 2 and 2 together). The kitchen has a moderate infestation of ants, cockroaches, and rats; and the home in general a light infestation of carpet beetles, termites, and silverfish. The front yard is home to a rather bizarre tree with paper money growing on it, and the driveway has a Kia Soul parked in it.
The contestants do not necessarily have to *USE* everything here, but they are at their disposal.
Itty Bitty Bob (that goddamn queer Money Tree caterpillar) gets a bit of a headstart because he is so much slower than that goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® bee. Bob crawls to the kitchen, goes under the sink, grabs a bunch of that dry cat food, and lies in wait for the bee...the bee finally buzzes into the kitchen to fuel up with some nice Honey Nut Cheerios®, but Bob hucks the cat food at him -- and BAM!!! Got that little fucker!!!
The bee spirals to the floor, but shakes himself off and flies right at Bob, then tries to implant his venemous stinger right between Bob's eyes...but wait a minute here, the Honey Nut Cheerios® bee is a drone (male) for Christ sakes, and drones do not possess a sting!!!
Bob then grabs a can of Raid™ (remember that the home has an infestation of various insects) and tries to spray the asinine bee with the insecticide (or "bugicide" if you prefer)..."SSSSSSS SSSSSSSSSSSSS" goes the Raid™ but it misses! Guess Bob is either a very poor shot, or the Raid™ is the Wasp & Hornet Killer and comes out of the can in a narrow, laser-like stream.
The Honey Nut Cheerios® bee flies out the open door and into the yard...but upon spying that bizarre tree, he flies back in, grabs a rather handily-placed Bic™ disposable "siggeret" lighter, and flies back into the yard. He then starts systematically defoliating that tree, placing all of its "money" leaves in a small pile near the tree's base. The Money Tree caterpillar sees the now-denuded tree through the kitchen window, and wastes no time in crawling out of the kitchen, through the foyer, and out the front door to see what might have happened.
Once the bee sees him, he goes to that pile of money, starts wadding those bitches up, lighting them, and then chucking them at the caterpillar. Bob, being slow, is bombarded by the little piles of burning money and is rather quickly converted into worm (or fish) food! And the winner is...O WAIT!!! The family cat appears out of nowhere, pounces upon the bee, and rather quickly devours it!!! A day or so later, the bee becomes a fudge bunny (slang term for cat shit), and is rather easily scooped out of the litterbox (which was refilled with Fresh Step™ scoopable kitty litter several days ago) and deposited in the wheelie bin (wheeled outdoor garbage can).
THE WINNER ROUND FIFTY ONE: MUTUAL ANNHILATION!!!
ROUND FIFTY TWO: SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS vs. EUGENE H. KRABS
This battle shall take place in Bikini Bottom, home to SpongeBob SquarePants and his fellow citizens such as Patrick Star, Squidward Tentacles, Sandy Cheeks, Mrs. Puff, Sheldon Plankton, Eugene Krabs, etc. Also present (and available to both contestants) are SpongeBob's pineapple and all of its contents, the Krusty Krab and Chum Bucket restaraunts and all of their contents, and the "Fiery Fist 'O Pain" roller coaster.
SpongeBob SquarePants is the quickest on the draw here...his large "horn" alarm clock jars him out of bed; he trips over Garbear (his pet sea snail Gary) but makes his way to the bathroom where he brushes his two huge front teeth, and then to his closet where he quickly dons his characteristic brown pants and white shirt with his Krusty Krab nametag already on it. He darts over to his job at the Krusty Krab, briefly greets Squidward (who coldly ignores him as usual), then fires up the grill to start cranking out Krabby Patties. Mr. Krabs then throws a pile of money at SpongeBob, but it's paper money for Christ sakes and causes no harm; though a few bills land on the grill and start burning, ruining several Krabby Patties.
This pisses off SpongeBob, so he storms into Mr. Krabs' office carrying the "spachelur" {as Krabs often calls those things} he was issued when he was hired, and whacks Krabs upside the head with it multiple times. Krabs retaliates by grabbing handfuls of quarters and starts hucking them at SpongeBob. Most of them miss, but a few hit our little yellow sponge friend, and one of his big-ass teeth gets chipped. SpongeBob immediately goes to the only dentist in Bikini Bottom to get that repaired, and rather rapidly shows back up at the Krusty Krab.
SpongeBob knows that Mr. Krabs is a greedy, miserly little fucker and goes right for the safe -- finding it with the door open, he grabs money by the wheelbarrowfull and crams it into the deep fat fryers! This royally infuriates Krabs, so Krabs quickly hires his daughter Pearl (a whale of all things) and she revamps the Krusty Krab, calling it, "The Kuddly Krab" and having all of the fryers and grills removed from the kitchen so that the menu now consists of only salad and iced tea. SpongeBob looks at the menu, cocks his head like a puppy that doesn't understand what it had just been told, and then rather loudly asks, "But what in the name of Davy Jones' locker is a ssaaaallllllllaaaddd?"
With Pearl now at the helm, the Kuddly Krab is losing money (and customers) at a rapid rate! Mr. Krabs' plan is backfiring horribly!!!
Krabs kills Pearl with a large kitchen knife, reinstalls the grills & deep fat fryers, and changes the sign outside to read, "Krusty Krab". Krabs also replaces SpongeBob's spatula with a "Le Spatula"; a hoity-toity French spatula that happens to be a living creature. SpongeBob attempts to make Krabby Patties, but the Le Spatula keeps bending its neck -- thusly not allowing the Krabby Patties to be turned over. So his first batch of patties become shrivelled smoking black masses of "stuff" on the grill...boy is SpongeBob ever pissed now!!! He storms into Krabs' office, and yells, "You little cheap motherfucker!!! You buttsnoipe!!! That fucking pussywhipped piece of shit spatula you left me won't turn over my goddamn Krabby Patties!!!" SpongeBob then grabs rolls of quarters and starts chucking them at Krabs! Most of them connect with their target, leaving holes in Krabs' exoskeleton. He then squirts Whink, a highly corrosive (hydrofluoric acid) rust remover at Krabs. As the Whink contacts the bare "innards" of Krabs through the holes he punched in Krabs' exosketon with those rolls of quarters, it rather rapidly dissolves him, causing Mr. Krabs to become fish food (dinner, Mrs. Puff?)
THE WINNER ROUND FIFTY TWO: SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS!!!
ROUND FIFTY THREE: THOSE STUPID SODDING CRAN-ASSURE SINGING CRANBERRIES vs. JAMIE CURTIS (FROM THE ACTIVIA "POO-POO YOGURT" COMMERCIALS)
This battle shall occur on the stage used by those stupid sodding singing cranberries in the Cran-Assure commercial. The stage and auditorium is equipped with what you might expect to find in such a location: there are three pairs of tall curtains that are opened & closed by use of ropes with heavy lead weights on their ends, metal microphone stands with Shure wired microphones sans breath shields, thousands of watts of hot light bulbs with colored filter gels over them, several places on the stage floor that have trap doors, and 997 seats with flip-up cushions. The single restroom is equipped with a broken lavatory, a rather standard wall-mounted porcelain uranator, a rather standard tankless toliet with turbo flush mechanism & a Church brand seat/lid assembly, a large Cormatic TP dispenser with the phrase, "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM!" carved into it with a knife (the dispenser has single-ply toliet tissue in it because the asshaberdasher who owns the joint is just too gosh darn-diddly-arn cheap to have two ply tissue put in it), a dirtied green roller towel in a dented and obviously vandalised case, a small metal wastepaperbasket, and a rotting, extremely soured string mop in a dirty plastic pale. Finally, there are a pair of Class ABC fire extinguishers mounted in flimsy metal & glass cases by the exit and a Class D extinguisher (used for extinguishing flammabble metals like sodium, magnesium, and zirconium) under the ticket booth.
The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.
Those asinine sodding singing cranberries, being on their home turf, take first blood by caterwauling into the damn mics, "
Talking about the pissinary tract, is something we all should do with tact. Craaaaannn-Assssurre, CRAAAAANNNNN-ASSSSSURRREEE!!!"
Jamie Curtis is generally unphased by the aural assault, and appears with a hand truck containing seven cases of Dannon Activia yogurt with culture Bifidus regularis. She also finds an Erlenmeyer flask of metallic sodium under the ticket thing and grabs that with her free hand (now why a theatre would keep sodium metal is beyond me!). She wheels the yogurt to the right, down a narrow corridor, and onto the left wing of the stage behind the curtain. She pops open a couple of yogurts and lies in wait for those stupid sodding cranberries. They show up, and Jamie shoves a spoonful of the stuff toward each cranberry as they pass, telling them, "Activia is beyond tasty, and it'll make you drop stools with hospital-like regularity".
Since the cranberries do not shit (they do not have digestive tracts -- they're CRANBERRIES for Christ sakes!), they just spit the shitty yogurt out back toward Jamie.
The cranberries go on the offensive now. They all march in unison to the bathroom, they each get little wads of toliet paper, get them wet by pressing them into that fucking yucky stinking, rotting mop, and march back to the left wing of the stage looking for Jamie Curtis. They soon spot her, and start launching the gooey, stinky toliet wads toward her wrinkled, douchelike face. *SPLUT!* *SPLUT!* *SPLUT!* Got her right in the cocksucker (the cranberries might not have digestive systems, but they have decent aim!). She exclaims, "PISS YOU!!! THAT REALLY FUCKING REEKS!!!" She runs to the restroom and tries to douche off her stinky face in the lavatory, but nothing happens when she turns the faucet handles. So she runs to the water closet, but immediately sees that some assclown took a dump but failed to flush. The only source of water left is that wall-mounted porcelain uranator -- so she plunges her face into that and repeatedly yanks the flush handle. Unbeknownst to her, those stupid sodding cranberries stealthily followed her in with that flask of sodium metal. They lob that fucker into the uranator where it shatters and the sodium metal explodes into flame when it touches the water (you may have learned in Jr. High or High School chemistry that sodium & water do not play well together).
Jamie is a bit too slow to lift her face out of the burning water (which is rather rapidly being converted into lye by that metallic sodium), and she unexpectedly rapidly becomes worm food.
THE WINNER ROUND FIFTY THREE: THOSE STUPID SODDING CRAN-ASSURE SINGING CRANBERRIES!!!
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