THE ULTIMATE ANTI-HERO
Battles between various TV commercial & infomercial spokespeople, spokesanimals, spokethings, and the products themselves.
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ROUND SIXTY SIX: THAT GODDAMN QUEER HAMBURGER HELPER HAND vs. THAT SODDING STUPID QUAKER OATS PRICK
This battle shall take place on the floor of the Quaker Oats factory, and then later, move to a prison equipped with an electric chair. The factory floor is equipped with conveyor belts, huge steaming vats, a closet containing leather gloves, safety vests, hard hats, and other assorted foo-foo (items of that nature); and the employee's can contains a sink, an 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 Lily toliet paper dispenser with Scott brand toliet paper in it, five packs of matches (on the floor), a soured mop in a dirty plastic pale, 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.
Our embattled contestants begin by circling the drain...er...uh...I mean circling one another on the factory floor. Believe it or not, our Amish friend (the Quaker Oats prick) has homefield advantage here, but apparently does not realise it.
That goddamn queer mangy deformed 4-fingered sodding stupid talking Hamburger Helper hand sneaks up behind the Quaker Oats prick to box his ears, but the Hand realises that he does not have arms, and is therefore unable to complete the mission.
The Quaker Oats prick (still unaware of that goddamn queer Hamburger Helper Hand circling him like a shark circling a bleeding swimmer) finds a pack of those matches. He starts striking them, holding the burning matches at arm's length -- looking for that goddamn queer mangy deformed 4-fingered sodding stupid talking Hamburger Helper Hand, then dropping the burning matches on the foor (there's a light swich
by the door for Christ sakes, but the Amish don't believe in electricity!)
That goddamn queer mangy deformed 4-fingered sodding stupid talking Hamburger Helper Hand goes on the offensive now...it stealthily skitters toward the door, climbs the wall, and flicks on the sodding stupid light. The sudden huge increase in intensity momentarily blinds that sodding stupid Quaker Oats prick, so the Hand goes to box his ears AGAIN!!! But once AGAIN, nothing happens (of couse nothing happens you pussywhipped piece of shit Hand; Hands do not have arms or hands for God sakes!!!)
That goddamn queer mangy deformed 4-fingered sodding stupid talking Hamburger Helper Hand runs to the employee's can, grabs the toliet plunger, and runs after the Quaker Oats prick with it, intent on suffocating the little bastard with the rubber cup on the plunger's "business end", but the Quaker Oats prick sees what's going on (Amish folks may be ignorant, but they ain't dumb!!!), grabs the Hand, shoves it in the water closet, and attempts to flush it away. "PISS SHIT COCKSUCKER PUSSY CUNT MOTHERFUCKERI IT ISN'T GOING DOWN!!!" shouts that fucking goddamn Quaker Oats Prick, so he reaches for the plunger and starts furiously pumping at the bowl!
VICTORY, SWEET VICT...O WAIT!!! Somebody called the cops, and they showed up right as that goddamn queer mangy deformed 4-fingered sodding stupid talking Hamburger Helper Hand was whirling down the shitbowl, so they cuff up our little Amish friend, haul his ass off to jail, then to court where he is quickly convicted of murder 1 and sentenced to the chair, then to a prison with a chair. The Amish don't believe in electricity, but the Quaker Oats prick got a taste of electricity when they put him in the effing chair!!!
THE WINNER ROUND SIXTY SIX: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!
(with a little help from our criminal justice system to do away with that Quaker Oats prick!)
ROUND SIXTY SEVEN: THAT GODDAMN QUEER HONEY NUT CHEERIOS® BEE vs. THAT STUPID SODDING TALKING MINI-WHEAT WITH FLOATING GLOVES
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, microwave, douchewasher, 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 T-shirt drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his shirts always smell like cat pee, 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, mice, crickets, and silverfish.
That goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee gets out of the gates first because its cereal box is already open and that stupid sodding Mini-Wheat is still trying to get out of its box.
That stupid sodding Mini-Wheat slips past the Bee, comes up behind it, and sings, "One two three, you can dance, like you were, born in France". That goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee is unphased by the aural assault (it's a bug for Christ sakes, and bugs do not have ears!)
That goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee 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 Bee from behind, and gloves appear out of nowhere and make a motion as though boxing the Bee's ears. But nothing happens (if I've told you once, I've told you 2,458,770 times: it's a fucking sprayable bug for Christ sakes, and insects do not have ears!)
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 that little square whole wheat prick!!!
That goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee fishes a large meat cleaver out of the drawer and starts wildly slashing at the Mini-Wheat with it. Every swing of the gleaming stainless steel blade misses; the only damage being done is that there are now a series of fairly deep cuts in the cabinet door just to the right of the stove.
That stupid sodding Mini-Wheat takes the offensive now...the prick finds some Cascade automatic douchewasheer liquid, flip the cap, and directs a stream of the corrosive liquid at the Bee. Damn, he misses! He gives the bottle another healthy squeeze...the stream of gel arcs across the kitchen! ***SPLAT*** Got 'im right on the abdomen!!! The gel clogs the Bee's spiracles (breathing holes along the sides of its abdomen), and the Bee soon suffocates & becomes worm food!!!
VICTORY, SWEET VIC...O WAIT!!! While that stupid sodding Mini-Wheat prick is doing a victory dance, he slips in the liquid dishwasher detergent!!! He flies into the open dishwasher, the family dog hears all of the commotion in the kitchen and runs in, where he runs into the dishwasher door, closing it, which starts the "pot scrubber" cycle -- thus putting an end to that stupid sodding Mini-What prick!
THE WINNER ROUND SIXTY SEVEN: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!
ROUND SIXTY EIGHT: THE ALPO® DOG vs. THAT STUPID SODDING TALKING MINI-WHEAT WITH FLOATING GLOVES
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, microwave, douchewasher, 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 underwear drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his skivvies always smell like cat urine, but has yet to put 2 and 2 together). The kitchen has a moderate infestation of giant water bugs, piss ants, cockroaches, and rats; and the home in general a light infestation of carpet beetles, termites, mice, crickets, grasshoppers, and silverfish.
The Alpo® dog gets off to a rip-roaring start here because that stupid sodding talking Mini-Wheat piss weasel still can't get out of its box in a timely manner (it keeps harping about its eight layers making you smarter, but it apparently doesn't work very well or else the talking Mini-Wheat peckerhead would remember to pack a box cutter!!!). The Alpo® dog stands with its front paws positioned on the counter directly above the cereal
cabinet just to the left of the stove.
That stupid sodding talking Mini-Wheat ankle spanker manages to sneak out of the cabinet without alerting the dog. It skitters across the room, climbs up the cabinet drawers, fishes a rather sizeable serrated bread knife out of the knife drawer, and starts wildly swinging it at the Alpo® dog! Every slash of the gleaming steel knife blade misses; though one of those swings nicks the dog's wiener, causing it to yelp and pass a small amount of micturition (potty) on the kitchen floor. The Mini-Wheat prick drops the knife, skitters back across the kitchen floor (deftly avoiding the small puddle of dog piddle), climbs the drawers on the other side, and hides behind the coffee canister to think up its next attack.
The Alpo® dog, still a bit miffed about getting its tallywhacker nicked by a piece of fucking cereal, goes under the sink, gets three cans of Alpo®, opens the fuckers, and immediately gobbles two of them down (because the asshaberdasher who owns him is passed out stinking drunk on the toliet and forgot to feed him last night). It then dumps the third can of Alpo® into its food bowl, dutifully douches out the cans, and carries them over to the recycling bag (the Alpo® dog is environmentally conscious ya know). Guess it was more hungry than vengeful, hahaha!!!
That stupid sodding talking Mini-Wheat meat popcycle emerges from behind the coffee canister, skitters across the counter, and...OOPS!!! IT FAW DOWN GO BOOM!!! Actually, it 'faw down go splash' because it fell off the counter and landed dead-center in the Alpo® dog's
water bowl!!!
The Mini-Wheat very quickly becomes swollen and distended, explodes, and becomes worm food -- or DOG food in this case, because the Alpo® dog was still hungry.
THE WINNER ROUND SIXTY EIGHT: THE ALPO® DOG!!!
(with a little assistance from his water bowl)
ROUND SIXTY NINE: ONE OF THOSE GODDAMN QUEER KIA "RAPPING RATS" vs. THAT GODDAMN QUEER HAMBURGER HELPER HAND
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 Juneau Empire newspaper (which is somewhat odd because this isn't Juneau!!!), 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 (and with the keys already in the ignition) is a 2014 Kia Soul with a custom candy-apple 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 the Kia Rapping Rat has homefield advantage, he goes first. He tries to disable that goddamn queer mangy deformed 4-fingered sodding stupid talking 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 Kia'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 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; but it tries to go on the offensive anyway. It goes directly to that Kia and rips the keys out of the ignition and hucks them as far away as it can -- somewhat permanently neutralising this potential threat. It then spies some Raid® Wasp and Hornet Killer in an aerosol bomb, grabs that, and goes on the prowl for that goddamn queer Kia Rapping Rat. It soon finds the irritating creature, and discharges the entire can at it. The rat gets thoroughly douched by the insecticide (or, "bugicide" if you prefer), but not a whole lot happens. Of course nothing happens you dumb stupid pussywhipped piece of shit hand, the rat is a mammal for God sakes, not a bug!!!
That goddamn queer Kia Rapping Rat (yes, it 'plays for the other team' hahaha!!!) 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.
It then lures that goddamn queer, mangy, malformed, 4-fingered, stupid sodding talking Hamburger Helper Hand to the street directly under those 750 volts DC trolley lines, uses a pair of insulated wirecutters that street maintenance accidentally left up there, and snips the wire. The hissing wire falls directly onto the Hand, landing in between its index and middle fingers, and fries the Hand into a smoking pile of ashes!!!
THE WINNER ROUND SIXTY NINE: THAT GODDAMN QUEER KIA "RAPPING RAT"!!!
ROUND SEVENTY: THAT GODDAMN QUEER HONEY NUT CHEERIOS® BEE (the rapping one) vs. THAT GODDAMN QUEER HAMBURGER HELPER HAND
This battle shall (yet once again!) take place in the kitchen of a pet-owning household. The kitchen is equipped with a double-bowl sink & garbage disposal, refrigerator, microwave, douchewasher, 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 uranating in its owner's pants drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his Levis 501 pants always smell like cat urine, but has yet to put 2 and 2 together). The kitchen has a moderate infestation of Sphinx Moth larvae (caterpillars), giant water beetles, piss ants, cockroaches, and rats; and the home in general a light infestation of carpet beetles, Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly larvae (caterpillars), termites, mice, crickets, grasshoppers, and silverfish.
That goddamn queer Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee goes on the offensive right off the bat...it starts singing that sodding n***er music while the musical accompaniment somehow issues from that seriously blinged-out cereal box, thinking that the horrible, discordant noise would disable that goddamn queer Hamburger Helper Hand, but nothing happens! Of course nothing happens you pussywhipped piece of shit sodding Bee! Hands do not have ears for Pete sakes!!!
That goddamn queer Hamburger Helper Hand goes on the attack next...it skitters across the floor, and opens the door to a rather large cabinet containing skillets & frying pans. It wrests a large, heavy frying pan out of the cabinet, and starts rather aimlessly swinging the fucking thing around the kitchen with the goal of knocking the Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee out of the air and maybe even flattening (and subsequently killing) it. ***CLANG!!!*** ***CLANG!!!*** ***CLUNK!!!*** ***CLANG!!!*** All of the Hand's swings miss the Bee; the death pan's swings connect with cabinets near the floor and one of them even hits the oven door and puts this big nasty looking 'spiderweb' crack in the glass oven door.
The Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee flies toward the Hand, fully intent on ripping his bunghole off...er...uh...um...PLANTING HIS VENOMOUS STING in the Hand's back. The Bee zooms toward the Hand from behind, aims his ass at the Hand's back, and bounces harmlessly off!!! Well of course you bounced harmlessly off you stupid whipped-ass sodding Bee! You're a drone (male), and drones do not posses a sting
for Christ sakes!!!
That sodding queer Hand sees the Bee bouncing across the floor, and the Hand tries to nock it into the dog's water dish where it can be carried to the bathroom and disposed of by flushing; but the Bee lifts off the floor before the Hand can complete this task.
The Bee then flies to the knife drawer and fishes out a rather large meat cleaver. He then flies above the Hand, and drops the cleaver onto the Hand! It lands between the Hand's middle and pinkie fingers, bright blue blood shoots out of the deep gash that the cleaver made, and the Hand rather unexpectedly quickly perishes!!!
And the winner i...O WAIT!!! When the Bee lands to kick the Hand in the nads, the family cat comes out of nowhere, pounces on & eats it, and subsequenty causes the Bee to soon becomes a fudge bunny (slang term for a cat fece)!!!
THE WINNER ROUND SEVENTY: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!
ROUND SEVENTY ONE: BARNEY THE PURPLE TOLIET DINOSAUR vs. THAT GODDAMN QUEER HAMBURGER HELPER HAND
This unholy battle shall take place on the set of the TV program, "Barney & Friends". 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 assorted & sundry stage props appropriate for a, "Barney & Friends" shoot.
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 purple Kohler Rialto one-piece toliet (the designer chose purple to match the large Barney costume), a Cormatic brand toliet paper dispenser with Scott brand toliet paper in it (the dispenser has the phrase, "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM!!!" neatly written on it with a black magic marker), 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
This battle gets underway with Barney taking point since that goddamn queer talking Hamburger Helper Helping Hand doesn't have a fucking clue here because this isn't a shopping mall or a residential kitchen). The purple toliet dinosaur starts off by shouting at the Hand, "HOOOOO BOY!! I'M SO GLAD WE LOVE EACH OTHER!!!" thinking that the Hand would be adversely affected. In the distance, you can hear Beavis saying, "DAMMIT THIS WUSSY CRAP IS PISSING ME OFF!" -- probably coming from some asshaberdasher's boob tube because he has the volume cranked waaaaaayyyyy too high. That goddamn queer talking Hamburger Helper Helping Hand is not affected in the least by the cacaphony; the stupid sodding purple toilet dinosaur is too fucking dumb to know that his nemesis is a hand, and hands do not have ears for God sakes!
Baby Bop bounces onto the set to help Barney -- after all, Barney once did say, "Sharing is caring". Baby Bop latches onto one of those supremely heavy video cameras on a wheeled dolly, and pushes it toward the Hand. But the wheeled camera moves too slowly, and the Hand skitters out of the way with plenty of time to spare. The $24,587.70 camera rolls slowly across the set and stops when it runs into another camera's cable; "no harm no foul" as they say.
That goddamn queer talking Hamburger Helper Hand still doesn't have a clue as to what the fuck is going on; it wanders somewhat aimlessly around the set and can't figure out how it could destroy or even disable that
purple monstrosity.
Barney then gets the bright idea to simply stomp on the Hand, and does so. The Hand is quickly 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!
THE WINNER ROUND SEVENTY ONE: BARNEY THE PURPLE TOLIET DINOSAUR!!!
ROUND SEVENTY TWO: BILLY MAYS vs. THAT GODDAMN QUEER HAMBURGER HELPER HAND
This fight shall take place on the set of one of the late Billy Mays' infomercials. The set is equipped with the kind of things you might expect to find on the set of an infomercial: boom microphones on long poles, large video cameras on wheeled dollies, portable carpeted walls on casters, thousands of watts of hot light bulbs, etc. Also present are two drinking fountains, a paper cup dispenser, six cases of Oxi-Clean, five cases of Orange Glo, a dozen Showtime rotisseries (from Ron Popiel's set next door), and a Kirby upright vacumm cleaner. In the restroom there is an 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 Cormatic toliet paper dispenser with the phrase, "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM!!!" neatly scratched into it with the tip of a knife blade, a soured, decomposing, quite stinky mop in a rusted metal pale, and a Dyson brand electric hand dryer.
The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.
Billy Mays has homefield advange here, so he goes on the attack first. He gets a large transparent bowl full of water from somewhere offstage, carries it within range of one of the cameras, dumps some nasty looking dye in the water, and stuffs a couple of white T-shirts in it. He then dumps some Oxi-Clean into the water whilst shouting, "GET THE TOUGH STAINS OUT...WITH OXI-CLEAN!!!", which causes
the water in the bowl to turn the color of badly diluted skim milk.
How this was suppose to phase that goddamn queer malformed sodding talking Hand we may never know. :-/
The Hand goes on the offensive now...he finds a queerly-placed upright store display full of Massengill brand post-menstrual disposable douches, "Happy Butt" disposable enemas, and Tampax Pearl tampons. Since Mays is sweating and his asshole really reeks, Hand grabs two of the enemas, removes the safety caps, carries them over to Billy Mays, and says, "Here Billy, squirt these things in & around your bunghole and you'll smell as fresh as a flower."
For Satan sakes guys, this battle is going nowhere fast!!!
Billy then grabs a tub of Oxi-Clean, takes the lid off, and throws the contents of the tub toward the Hand. Although most of the poufy white cloud misses the Hand, some of the powder does get on him. Billy then reaches for the sprayer in the plumbed kitchen sink prop, and directs a shower of hot water at that goddamn queer malformed sodding talking Hand. The Oxi-Clean on the Hand's nose goes to work (it foams and fizzes slightly), turning the Hand's red nose as white as the rest of his body -- this also has the side effect of totally neutralising the Hand's ability to detect odours.
That goddamn queer malformed sodding talking Hand goes back on the offensive now...it skitters over to where the Orange Glo is, removes a squeeze bottle of it & takes the cap off, sneaks up on Mays, and then starts squeezing the living tweedle out of the bottle with the nozzle directed (aimed) at Mays' face! Billy Mays coughs & gags, trying to expel the toxic liquid from his mouth. He dashes over to the paper cup dispenser, grabs one, fills it with water from the drinking fountain immediately adjacent to the cup dispenser, and gulps the whole cup of water down. Phew!!! Catastrophe averted!!!
Mays then lures the now white-nosed Hand into the employee's john with a box of Hamburger Helper that one of the infomercial staff members accidentally left behind. He dumps it into the toliet, stirs it with the mop handle, and waits to see if that goddamn queer malformed sodding talking Hand takes the bate. It doesn't take long, and soon the Hand is in the crapper! Billy slams the lid down and flushes...and flushes again...and again...Billy soon realises that the Hand isn't going down the water closet without a fight. So he grabs a toliet brush, lifts the toliet lid, and (while flushing) uses the brush like a plumber's helper to cram the dying Hand deeper into the shitbowl. The Hand quickly drowns and becomes worm food!!!
THE WINNER ROUND SEVENTY TWO: BILLY MAYS!!!
ROUND SEVENTY THREE: DENNIS HAYSBERT (THE ALLSTATE GUY) vs. THAT GODDAMN QUEER HAMBURGER HELPER HAND
This fight shall take place outdoors on the breakdown lane in the southbound lanes of the I-5 freeway. Available to the embattled contestants are a 1976 Volkswagen Bug with a flat tire (or, "tyre" if you prefer) sporting a "baby poop brown" paint job and with the keys still in the ignition, a tire iron, a spare tire in the trunk (which is in the front, rather than in the back as is usual), several beer cans (one of them is full) in the roadside ditch, a half-used pack of matches, and the usual assortment of plants & weeds (including the poisonous foxglove) that you might find in a temperate north-American climate.
Dennis gets to a rip-roaring start here because that goddamn queer talking Hamburger Helper Helping Hand doesn't have a fucking clue as to what's going on since this isn't a shopping mall or a residential kitchen).
Dennis confronts the Hand and starts saying, "You're in good hands with Allstate" right in its face as if it would disable the Hand, but nothing happens! Of course nothing happens Dennis! Hands do not have ears for Christ sakes!!!
That goddamn queer talking Hamburger Helper Helping Hand goes on the offensive now...it goes for that tire iron, struggles to carry it over Dennis so that the Hand can get him in the nads, but the tire iron is too heavy, causing the hand to drop it, so it clatters to the pavement instead of clattering Dennis' balls.
Dennis then reappears with a large pile of Allstate paperwork (now where'd THAT come from?!?), and tries to cram it all down the Hand's choaking throat, but he fails rather miserably because the pile of paperwork he tried to jam down the Hand's throat was simply too large.
That goddamn queer talking Hamburger Helper Helping Hand then runs to the boot (trunk) of that old beater Volkswagen Bug and finds an oil can with a spout and at least half a quart of oil (or, "earl" if you prefer to say it that way) in it. It dumps the can's contents onto the pavement hoping to cause the Allstate guy to slip in it and crack his noggin open...but the Hand slips in it instead!!! While the Hand is still on its back, Dennis grabs a medium-sized clump of that foxglove, crams it into the Hand's mouth, and jams it down with the tire iron.
The Hand tries to ralf up the toxic plants, but can't puke them up in time. It goes into cardiac arrest and soon expires! Dennis kicks it into the HOV lane of the freeway where it is quickly run over by a bus. The Hand is flattened; parts like kidneys, pissinary bladder, colon {with poop still in it!}, 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!
THE WINNER ROUND SEVENTY THREE: DENNIS HAYSBERT (THE ALLSTATE GUY)!!!
ROUND SEVENTY FOUR: THAT STUPID SODDING YELLOW PILL FROM THE ABILIFY ADVERT. vs. THAT GODDAMN QUEER HAMBURGER HELPER HAND
This fight shall take place on the set of the Hamburger Helper 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 fully functional "kitchen" stage set, a utility closet with numerous cans of different colors of paint, and assorted & sundry stage props appropriate for a Hamburger Harmer ad.
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 "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM!" written on it with black magic marker), a very foul-smelling, extremely soured string mop in a dirty plastic pale, and a 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 that goddamn queer talking Hamburger Helper Helping Hand is on home soil, it goes on the rag first...er...uh...I mean, "IT GOES ON THE RAMPAGE FIRST!" It starts by following that stupid sodding yellow pill around, confronts it just below the oven, and shouts, "HAMBURGER HELPER...MAKES A GREAT MEAL!!!" as if it would phase that little yellow dickhead (well, it does look a bit like a tallywhacker), but nothing of any significance happens...well OF COURSE NOTHING HAPPENED YOU STUPID SODDING QUEERBATE ALCOHOLIC HAND!!! It's a fucking caplet of psychoactive dope, and pills do not have ears for God sakes!!!
That stupid sodding yellow pill goes right after the Hand, and attempts to box its ears. Nothing happens -- OF COURSE NOTHING HAPPENED YOU STUPID SODDING PILL!l! It's a hand for Satan sakes and hands do not have ears!!!
Cummon for Christ sakes guys, this battle is going nowhere -- and going nowhere FAST!!!
That goddamn queer talking Hamburger Helper Helping Hand jumps on the kitchen counter portion of the 'kitchen' stage set, gets a medium-sized mixing bowl, and starts mixing some Hamburger Helper in it. That stupid sodding yellow pill is rather horrified when it sees the box of Hamburger Helper and notes that the Hand took a black magic marker, crossed out 'Hamburger' from it, and wrote "PILL" in neat block lettering above it!!! This just can't be good for that little yellow dickhead!!!
The Hand preheats the oven to 625°F (329.40°C) in preperation for the pill's imminent immolation. The pill secretly opens the oven door for a little suprise it has in store.
That stupid sodding yellow pill then figures that the best place to hide is right out in the open...so it hides behind the bowl of Pill Helper. When that goddamn queer talking Hamburger Helper Helping Hand is in front of the bowl, the stupid sodding yellow pill kicks it squarely into the oven! But O NOOOOO!!! That stupid sodding yellow pill slips in the Pill Helper and careens helplessly into the oven with the Hand!!! An employee of the Hamburger Helper commercial (a cameraman I believe) walks past the 'kitchen' set, sees that the oven door is open, and closes it. This assures that both the Hand and the Pill become fish food!!!
THE WINNER ROUND SEVENTY FOUR: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION (with a bit of human intervention)!!!
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