Serious Mozzarella
Special Victims Unit
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The theme begins to play as white doves are released into the sky, welcoming the live audience to the first ever episode of INSANE. EXTREME. HARDCORE WRESTLING FEDERATION (IEHWF)!!! The camera lifts up from the close up of a white jade rose to the arena, where hundreds of thousands have gathered to see hardcore action. Most of them look confused at the sound of a light smattering of applause throughout the arena here at Truth or Consequences, NM.
Hello, ladies and gentlemen, my name is uh... Bob Ross, and welcome to the first ever episode of your local wrestling company's promotion, the Insane, Uh... Extreme, Hardcore Wrestling Federation," he says in almost a whisper. "Allow me to walk you through tonight's program."
But before he was able to finish, the lights cut out, and the Titantron was illuminated, bordered with luscious, green rose vines.
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Uh, well, ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we're looking at the appearance of Triple, uh... H. But I'm not sure he works for the, uh... company," Ross cuts in. "I guess we're about to find out what he has to say."
"TRUTH OR CONSEQUENCES...
ARE...
YOU...
RRREA--"
Hunter began to snicker. A smile on his face as he brings the microphone back up to his face as he visibly tries not to laugh.
"ARE...
YOU...
RRREAAHAHAHAHAHAH!"
Hunter had lost control of his laughter, and he bent over, holding himself up by his knees, and laughed for another 10 minutes.
"W-what's going on here? The Insane Extreme Hardcore Wrestling Federation? Is that what they're calling it now? I can see why ECW died." Hunter continued laughing. And-and you got Bob Ross to commentate? The painter? I thought that guy died!" Hunter looked at the commentary table. "What's heaven like? Did you decorate this damn place?"
Bob Ross glared at Triple H.
I think you guys missed the point of what Extreme, Hardcore Wrestling is, so I think I'm going to take Bob Ross over here, and show you how it's done in the big leagues."
Triple H leaves the ring, and makes a B-line for the commentary table, through the grass surrounding the ring in place of safety mats.
"Ladies and, uh... gentlemen," Ross said, while standing up, "If you would just excuse me for one moment, I'd, uh... like to handle some business before I return to my duties as color commentator for the evening."
Bob Ross put down his headset, and with his left hand, ripped off his collared, blue shirt from his right shoulder, revealing a stunning sight. For a nearly 70-year old man, his body seemed to be chiseled by a Greek sculptor, sculpting the Olympic heroes of ancient history. Under his shirt revealed at the very least 8 rock solid abs, 30-inch biceps, and a neck the size of a fully grown black bear.
Triple H started for a moment, stunned, before he reached under the ring to find his trusty sledgehammer. He rose it up to the sky before making eye contact with Bob Ross again, who was laying on the best poker face the world has ever seen. Triple H smiled as he continued to walk toward the announce table. When he got to swinging distance, he raised the sledgehammer up, and swing it down right into the palm of Bob Ross' hands.
Bob Ross squeezed his right hand, and the sledgehammer was broken in half. His left hand jerked, instructively into a fist, and it rushed with the force of a thousand warriors of Valhalla toward the face of Triple H.
Triple H died on the spot.
Bob Ross reached for his headset, and placed it back over his head, I apologize for this, uh... inconvenience, ladied and gentlemen, but if you don't, uh... mind, I'd like to get back to the show."
The theme music began playing as Bob Ross ran down the matches scheduled for the evening:
"First we have a match between uh... Rowdy Roddy Piper and Marty Janetty. Boy is that going to be a, how does my good friend Jim say, a slobberknocker?
Next we're giving Chris Jericho some time in the ring to make a few statements followed by a match between Shelton Benjamin and, uh... Jim Morrison.
The rest of the schedule will be read off, uh, after these messages."
