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

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ROUND FIFTY FOUR: THAT GODDAMN QUEER HONEY NUT CHEERIOS® BEE vs THE ALPO® DOG
This battle shall take place in the kitchen of 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 47 cans of Alpo® brand dog food and two bags of Purina® Cat Chow™ for the family cat -- which is probably peeing in its owner's sock drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his socks always smell like cat piss, 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.

This battle starts with the Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee circling the bowl...er...uh...I mean, "CIRCLING HIS PREY" fully intent on planting his venomous sting into the Alpo® Dog's nozzle...he makes a beeline for the dog, turns his ass toward the dog's snout, and...***THUMP!!!*** The Bee bounces harmlessly off the dog and no sting & venom sac was deposited. It's no wonder you stupid-ass Bee! You're a drone (male) and drones do not posses a sting for Christ sakes!!!

The Alpo® dog counters by going under the sink for the Alpo® kibbles to launch at that goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee -- but finding no dry dog food, he instead reaches for the Purina® Cat Chow and starts lobbing those fuckers at the Bee. Most of them miss, but a few of them land squarely on their target, and that goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee falls to the floor.

That goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee shakes himself off, and flies to the knife drawer...THE KNIFE DRAWER?!? This can't be good news for our Alpo®-chowing friend!!!
That goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee fishes a large meat cleaver out of the drawer and starts wildly slashing at the dog with it. Every swing of the gleaming stainless steel blade misses, but the last swing nicks the dog's wiener, causing it to yelp a bit and making it pass micturition (piss) all over the kitchen floor. That goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee, being a small insect for God sakes, is pulled toward the floor by the heavy knife and lands in the dog pee. The urine clogs its spiracles (breathing holes on its abdomen) and soon causes the Bee to become worm food (or dog food in this case).

The Alpo® dog does what many dogs would do: it gobbles up the dead bug! A few days later, the dog converts it into a fudge bunny (shit), which the dog's owner dutifully scoops up with the pooper scooper, deposits in a plastic bag, and ties the bag off for disposal.

THE WINNER ROUND FIFTY FOUR: THE ALPO® DOG!!!



ROUND FIFTY FIVE: THOSE GODDAMN QUEER SCRUBBING BUBBLES® TOLIET CLEANER BUBBLES vs A LARGE CAN OF AJAX® CLEANSER
This battle shall take place in the upstairs bathroom of a suburban upper-middle class household. The bathroom is equipped with the kinds of things you might expect to find in a residential bathroom: A rather standard lavatory & vanity, a mirrored medicine cabinet, a rather filthy American Standard Neorest 500 Elongated One Piece Tankless Toliet with Integrated Washlet (a "Washlet" is a type of bidet), a roll of Northern Ultra-Soft bungwipe in a holder mounted onto the side of the vanity to the right of the water closet, and an unknown-type bathtub with a Moen shower head.

Neither one of our embattled contestants really has homefield advantage here, so the starter will be the first one on the scene...this turns out to be the can of Ajax®. It starts off by bursting out from the little cabinet under the lavatory, and trying to pepper the Scrubbing Bubbles® with its innards. The Ajax® must have shitty aim, because the only visible "damage" is an irregularly-shaped spot of white powder with some little blue things in it on the contour rug (the little rug that fits around the shitbowl).

The Scrubbing Bubbles® go on the offensive now, and fly toward the medicine cabinet. They get a bottle of Nasonex nasal spray, and shoot it toward the Ajax® can whilst shouting in unison, "NASONEX...DAY OR NIGHT!". What were those fucking sodding stupid bubbles thinking when they chose this "weapon" thinking that it could neutralise a big-ass can of Ajax®?!?

Ajax® turns aggressor now, and tries to lure those goddamn queer Scrubbing Bubbles® bubbles to the shitbowl so that they may be flushed away...it stands on the toliet seat and tries to pass micturition (potty) all over the seat so that the Bubbles would be drawn to it like flies to a pile of shit, but it can't "go" (you're a can of cleanser for God sakes -- you don't even have a pissinary tract!!!). So the Ajax® abandons this tactic, slinks into the bathtub, and tries to think of something else.

Those goddamn queer Scrubbing Bubbles® bubbles follow the Ajax® into the tub, and then Ajax® gets the bright idea to simply turn the water on and flush those goddamn queer Scrubbing Bubbles® bubbles down the drain. So it turns both the hot & cold water to full blast for a moment, then turns it off. Round and round the drain they go, and soon down the drain they go, never to be seen again!!!

THE WINNER ROUND FIFTY FIVE: THE SODDING STUPID CAN OF AJAX®!!!



ROUND FIFTY FIVE: THE HAMBURGER HELPER HAND vs. THE TALKING MINI-WHEAT WITH FLOATING GLOVES
This epic battle shall take place in a household kitchen. The kitchen is equipped with a double-bowl sink & garbage disposal, refrigerator, range, microwave, and numerous small TV infomercial appliances. The kitchen has a moderate infestation of piss ants, cockroaches, and rats. Also within proximity to both embattled contestants is a bathroom equipped with a rather standard lavatory & vanity, a mirrored medicine cabinet, a rather filthy American Standard Neorest 500 Elongated One Piece Tankless Toliet with Integrated Washlet (a "Washlet" is a type of bidet), a roll of Northern Ultra-Soft buttwipe in a holder mounted onto the side of the vanity to the right of the water closet, and an unknown-type bathtub with a Moen shower head.

The Talking Mini-Wheat takes the offensive here, standing on the hand's middle finger and saying, "One two three, you can dance, like you were, born in France". The Hamburger Helper Hand is unphased by the aural assault (it's a hand for Christ sakes, and hands do not have ears!)

The Hand goes on the offensive now, and goes under the sink for some Cascade douchewasher soap. It tries to pepper that sodding stupid talking Mini Wheat with the corrosive powder, but the big poufy cloud of powder misses, and the only "damage" done in this case is that there is a big shallow pile of dishwasher detergent all over the kitchen floor.

The talking Mini Wheat then sneaks up on the Hand from behind, and gloves appear out of nowhere and make a motion as though boxing the Hand's ears. But nothing happens (if I've told you once, I've told you 2,458,770 times: it's a hand for Christ sakes, and hands do not have ears!)

The Geico "Hump Day" Camel suddenly bursts through the front door apparently out of nowhere, shouting, "What day is it? WHAT DAY IS IT?!?" It runs to the kitchen, covers both the hand and the Mini Wheat with micturition (pee), which causes two things to happen...

1: The Mini Wheat becomes swollen and distended, and soon explodes.
2: The Hamburger Helper hand realises that it smells like piss, jumps into the toliet, and quickly drowns.

THE WINNER ROUND FIFTY FIVE: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!


ROUND FIFTY SIX: FLO "HO" FROM THE PROGRESSIVE COMMERCIAL VS. THE GEICO GECKO
This battle for the ages 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 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.

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, the Geico Gecko gets out of the gates first. It skitters up the wall and then to one of the lighting racks. It attracts Flo's attention by saying {in that phoney-bologna faggoty British accent}, "Save money? Hip, hip cheerio!" When Flo moves almost directly beneath the lizard, the Gecko begins unscrewing the light bulbs and hucking them at the Progressive douche! Most of the bulbs miss their mark and implode rather harmlessly (but noisily) on the floor, but a couple of them hit their target. POW! right on her forehead!! POW! right in the cocksucker!!! That's gotta hurt!!

Not to be outdone by a fucking lizard, she grabs the Progressive Insurance talking box, and (while the box caterwauls, "CANNONBOX!") throws it nearly vertically into the lighting rack, nocking our little lizard friend right upside the noggin -- off the lighting rack and onto the floor! The talking box also falls, becoming visibly broken as it impacts the floor and scattering Progressive insurance paperwork in a several foot radius around the (now smashed) remains of itself.

Flo then tries to stomp on the Gecko with her high heels, but the Gecko quickly skitters out of harm's way -- the only damage being done is that one of Flo's heels cut part of that stupid sodding lizard's tail off. But since the Gecko is self-regenerating, it quickly grows the segment back so we now have a whole Gecko instead of one missing a part.

The Gecko hides in the bottom drawer of a nearby filing cabinet to think up another tactic. After several minutes, he climbs out of the filing cabinet and finds that roller skating disco prick. The Gecko whispers something into his ear, and the roller skating disco prick soon takes his big-ass ghetto blaster, ejects the cassette from it, and inserts another. The song, "Fight 'Em 'Till You Can't" by the metal group Anthrax begins to issue from the ghetto blaster's 8" speakers, and the roller skating disco prick proceeds to circle around Flo like a shark circling a bleeding swimmer. He turns the volume to maximum, and (since Flo despises metal music) this causes bright green blood to start shooting out of her ears!
Flo is a VULCAN?!? And all this time I thought that she was just a simple douchenoozle!!!

Flo runs to the bathroom and straight to the bungwipe dispenser in order to fashion some aural tampons so that she can stem the tide of bright green blood gushing from her ears, but the TP dispenser is empty!!!

That Flo douche soon bleeds out, and falls to the floor curled up around that fucking nasty-ass fucking toliet like fucking Elvis and fucking eats it!
And that, my messy friend, is how you fucking vacuum...O WAIT!!! WRONG WEBSITE!!!

THE WINNER ROUND FIFTY SIX: THE GEICO GECKO!!!


ROUND FIFTY SEVEN: THE ALPO® DOG vs. THE GEICO CAVEMAN
This battle shall take place in the kitchen of 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 47 cans of Alpo® brand dog food and two bags of Purina® Cat Chow™ for the family cat -- which is probably peeing in its owner's sock drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his socks always smell like cat piss, but has yet to put 2 and 2 together). The kitchen has a moderate infestation of piss ants, cockroaches, and rats; and the home in general a light infestation of carpet beetles, termites, and silverfish.

This battle royale starts with the Alpo® dog (because the Geico Caveman is a slow, stupid douche!). The Alpo® dog gets a few cans of dog food from under the sink, opens those bitches up, and immediately gobbles down two of the cans (because the asshaberdasher that owns him is passed out stinking drunk in the bathroom and forgot to feed him last night), then empties the other two on the floor and takes the time to douche out the cans and drop them into the recycling bag. The Alpo® dog scoops large piles of the stinky dog food into its paws and lobs those fuckers at the Geico Caveman. Whiz! Splut!!! Whiz! Splut!!! The piles of dog food fly through the air and impact the Caveman! First two got him right in the cocksucker (the Caveman is a fag, hahaha!!!!) and the last gets him right in the nads. But because it's canned dog food for God sakes, no damage is done more severe than pissing off the Caveman a bit because the smell of piss & shit emenating from him is now compounded by the smell of canned dog food.

The Caveman then sneaks up behind the Alpo® dog and sniffs its ass!

The Alpo® dog doesn't like this one bit, so he growls at the Caveman and quickly bites his head off, permanently neutralising the annoyance (boy, this was a quick battle, wasn't it?). The dog drags the body outside and behind the garbage cans, goes back into the kitchen to tidy things up a bit, sprays some Febreze Air Effects, "Alaskan Springtime" scent into the air to kill the smell of urine & feces from the Caveman, and waits patiently for the boozehound asshat that owns him to wake up from his drunken stupor.

THE WINNER ROUND FIFTY SEVEN: THE ALPO® DOG!!!


ROUND FIFTY EIGHT: THAT GODDAMN QUEER HONEY NUT CHEERIOS® BEE vs THAT GODDAMN QUEER HAMBURGER HELPER HAND
This battle shall take place in the kitchen of a pet-owning household. The kitchen is equipped with a double-bowl sink & garbage disposal, refrigerator, range, microwave oven, and numerous small TV infomercial appliances. Under the sink, there are 47 cans of Alpo® brand dog food and two bags of Purina® Cat Chow™ for the family cat -- which is probably peeing in its owner's underwear drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his briefs & T-shirts always smell like cat piss, but has yet to put 2 and 2 together). The kitchen has a moderate infestation of piss ants, cockroaches, and mice; and the home in general a light infestation of carpet beetles, termites, and silverfish.

That goddamn queer Hamburger Helper hand gets out of the gates first, because it is already on the counter and that goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee is still trying to escape from the unopened box of cereal.

The Hand goes right for the Thunder Stick Pro, plugs that fucker in, and lies in wait for that sodding stupid Bee to fly out of the cupboard where the cereal is...the Hand waits...and waits...and waits some more. It soon falls asleep. Half an hour later, the Bee flies out of the cupboard & past the snoozing Hand. It quietly fishes a sharp steak knife out of the knife drawer, and flies to the hand so that the Bee can saw off his sack (scrotum & nuts) with it so that it can no longer reproduce! But when the Bee's gleaming steel knife blade is just millimeters from castrating the Hand, it wakes up, sees the threat, and bats it out of the way with the Thunder Stick. The knife (along with the Bee holding it) spirals to the floor!!!

That goddamn queer Hand then takes his Thunder Stick and scampers across the floor looking for that goddamn queer Bee. It finds the insect and tries to blend it out of existance with the Thunder Stick, but it runs out of cord before reaching the Bee. So much for that shitty tactic!

That goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee goes under the sink, reaches for the Cascade® automatic douchewasher soap, and tries like hell to pepper the hand with the corrosive powder. It misses; the dishwasher detergent landing in big pile in the dog's water bowl.

That goddamn queer Hamburger Helper hand skitters across the floor again, then climbs up the row of drawers so that it can fish a fairly large carving knife out of the knife drawer, but drops the knife onto the floor as it's climbing back down. The Bee sees this, grabs the knife, and whacks the Hand's middle finger clean off as the Hand reaches the floor!!!

The mortally wounded Hand starts squirting blood all over the place. The Bee grabs the knife again and goes to whack the Hand's pee-pee, but the Hand's death throes cause the remaining three fingers to twich & spasm, and one of those jerks nocks the Bee into the dog's water bowl, where that corrosive douchewasher soap in the dog's water causes the Bee to rather rapidly dissolve.

THE WINNER ROUND FIFTY EIGHT: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!


ROUND FIFTY NINE: THAT GODDAMN QUEER HAMBURGER HELPER HAND vs. THE ALPO® DOG
This battle shall (once again) take place in the kitchen of a pet-owning household. The kitchen is equipped with a double-bowl sink & garbage disposal, refrigerator, range, microwave oven, and numerous small TV infomercial appliances. The cabinet to the left of the stove has cans of Westerrn Family® brand corn & green beans, and numerous boxes of Hamburger Helper. Under the sink, there are 47 cans of Alpo® brand dog food and two bags of Purina® Cat Chow™ for the family cat -- which is probably piddling in its owner's pants drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his Levis® always smell like cat piss, but has yet to put 2 and 2 together). The kitchen has a moderate infestation of silverfish, cockroaches, and rats; and the home in general a light infestation of carpet beetles, termites, and piss ants.

The Alpo® dog gets to a rip-roaring start here because it's already in the kitchen standing with its two back feet on the floor and its two front feet on the counter directly above the silverware drawer. It gets a butterknife out of the silverware drawer, and lunges toward that mangy, malformed sodding stupid talking hand as it emerges from the cabinet by the stove, but the dull blade just bounces harmlessly off the Hand right above its eyes. Of course it bounces off the Hand you stupid dog! It's a butterknife for God sakes and does not have a sharp point!

That mangy, malformed four-fingered hand with a nose so big & red that you'd swear it had a $458-a-day coke habit and was also an alcoholic skitters up the vertical row of drawers and across the counter to hide behind the blender to think up another tactic...it decides to rip some Viva® brand paper towels off the roll, wad those bitches up, light them on the stove, and lob those fuckers at the Alpo® dog as if they were burning toliet wads. They make a very faint whizzing sound as they fly through the air, but the Alpo® dog easily dodges them. One of the burning wadded up paper towels does land under the cupboard on the other side of the kitchen and starts an unwanted fire.

The Alpo® dog, being naturally afraid of fire, runs for safety out the already-open front door.
The Hand, on the other hand, is too fucking stupid to run away from the quickly growing fire, and soon becomes fish food.

THE WINNER ROUND FIFTY NINE: THE ALPO® DOG!!!
(You didn't really think that I'd "off" a loved family pet, did you?)


ROUND SIXTY: THAT GODDAMN QUEER HAMBURGER HELPER HAND vs. FLO "HO" FROM THE PROGRESSIVE COMMERCIAL
This unholy battle for the ages 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.
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 Scott brand single-ply bungwipe in it (the dispenser has the phrase, "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM!!!" neatly scratched onto it with the blade of a knife, and the asshaberdasher who owns the studio building is too goddamn cheap to put two-ply rollios in it), several meters of stainless steel handicap railing around the water closet, an extremely foul & soured string mop in a dirty plastic pale, and a severely dented metal swing-top wastepaperbasket missing the swing-top.

That Progressive (or "Regressive") douche gets out of the gates first not only because she's on her home soil, but because that goddamn queer, mangy, malformed, 4-fingered, stupid sodding talking Hamburger Helper Hand doesn't have a fucking clue as to what's going on here because this isn't a residential kitchen or a shopping mall.
The Progressive douche tries to smother the Hand with Progressive paperwork, but the Hand slithers from under the papery mess, skitters behind the drinking fountain, and tries to think up something that might even the score.

The Hand gets the brilliant idea to shove a straw in the drinking fountain's water outlet, he aims the straw at (Over)Flo, and presses the button on the fountain. This causes a narrow, laser-like jet of somewhat cold water to discharge from the end of the straw, and the Hand directs the jet of water at Flo. ***SPLASHHHHHH*** got her right in the milk cans!
But it's a fairly small volume of water for God sakes, and causes damage no more severe than douching Flo's blouse and bra.

Flo goes on offense now...she chases that goddamn queer, mangy, malformed, 4-fingered, stupid sodding talking Hamburger Helper Hand down the hall and into the bathroom, she rips two pieces of the handicap railing out of the wall, and uses them like chopsticks to pick up that wriggling, squirming, goddamn queer, mangy, malformed, 4-fingered, stupid sodding talking Hamburger Helper Hand, throws it in the toilet, and flushes. The Hand whirls 'round and 'round, but it doesn't go down. So the douchenoozle picks up a toliet plunger, starts furiously pumping at the bowl with it, and joyously shouts, "HASTA LA VISTA YOU PUSSYWHIPPED PIECE OF SHIT HAND!!! DOWN THE SHITBOWL YOU GO!!!"

And the winner is...O WAIT!!! Flo slips in toliet water that splashed out of the bowl when she was cramming the Hand down with the plumber's helper, she hits her head ***HARD*** on the rim of the potty, she has an intercranial bleed as a result, and surprisingly quickly becomes worm food!!!

THE WINNER ROUND SIXTY: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!






For more about these pussywhipped pieces of shit motherfucking things called "ads", please visit Commercials I Hate.