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Last 10 Posts [ In reverse order ]
texanspaniard Posted on Jan 26 2009, 01:22 PM
  WWO Live Mike 06/11/01

" =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D "
THE CHOOF
" =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D "

[Now usually, being in a health club or gym is about
the most conventional setting possible for a flash (is
"flash" considered a kayfabe term?), with the possible
exception of a locker room or hospital. It's kinda
clich=E9, after all; "hey, look at the wrestler work
out; he must be tough - aren't you scared? - blah blah
blah."]

[But there's something distinctly un-clich=E9 about what
we're seeing here, because what we're seeing is the
Choof! Yes, of all people, the spherical Choof,
yellow bodypaint and all, is in a gym. While the
musclebound bodybuilders grunt and groan, the
buck-toothed pie baker grins broadly as he lies back
on the incline leg press - you know, the one where you
push up on the slanted platform with your legs.]

[Oh, did I mention that the Choof is actually wearing
MORE than his six-pronged sun bonnet and his yellow
speedo? No, he's still wearing the bonnet, and
presumably the speedo, too, but today he's wearing it
beneath PANTS! He's got sneakers, socks, fuzzy
wristbands, a headband, and a sleeveless T-shirt, too;
basically he's dressed like Richard Simmons.]

[Yes, for once we are spared the sight of the Choof's
near-naked body, and fittingly "Hallelujah" plays for
a few moments.]

CHOOF: "Golly gee willikers and goody goody gumdrops,
working out certainly makes me happy! It's hard work,
but there are much harder things in life, like
understanding anything the Midnight Assassin says, and
why he thinks he's cool to be the most pretentious
gangsta-wannabe ever to walk the planet! But then
again, it's always fun to try to solve mysteries like
that, and that MAKES ME HAPPY!"

[At that moment, a hulking bodybuilder walks by and
laughs. He has blond hair, blue eyes, and appears to
shave virtually every inch of his bronzed skin. He
wears a silly ensemble of black bicycle shorts and a
hot pink muscleshirt.]

MUSCLEMAN: (continuing to chuckle) "You? What does
a tubby balloon man like you know about working out?"

[Of course, the muscleman has an Austrian accent, just
because. (I would scream "AUSTRIA" at this point but
I'm not sure if that particular WWO inside joke is
considered played yet *g*) Anyway, I'll let you
imagine the accent, though, rather than try to write
in actual Arnold-speak, as that will make this pretty
unintelligible. Not unlike a Midnight Assassin
speech. oops, I guess I made that joke already.]

[Anyway, in case you forgot, the bodybuilder asked
what the Choof knew about working out.]

CHOOF: "I know plenty about lifting heavy weights, my
friend. I'm a wrestler, and my co-workers. opponents.
whatever you want to call them. usually ARE dead
weight when they enter the ring, and I have to
figuratively carry them through our matches. But I'm
happy to do it, because it only shows what a sweet guy
I am! Of course, I think I already show how sweet I
am by giving out so many pies! Hey, get it? Sweet?=20
Pie? Oh, my wit makes me so happy! I hope someday
you get to experience the wonderful feeling of saying
something witty, Mr. Bodybuilder. It's unlikely, if
should it ever happen, you'll feel true bliss! Even
more so than when you stick that steroid needle in
your arm like the Midnight Assassin is wont to do.=20
Though it is a wonder how that guy affords steroids,
given the rising cost of all that time spent in Thai
prostitution rings, but I guess other people's
finances are none of my business, and considering
Midnight Assassin's are probably limited to a piggy
bank, they're probably not very interesting either,
much like Midnight Assassin himself, whom I'm getting
REALLY sick of listening to and am looking forward
desperately to putting out of commission at the PPV,
which will actually make him happier because as a
cripple he'll have to find a different job, and maybe
he'll actually be _good_ at his next job, which could
be working as a paperweight or doorstop or something,
and then he'll be much happier, just like I am for not
having to deal with him anymore, so--"

MUSCLEMAN: (interrupting) "Quit your rambling, Cream
Puff. Lift this weight!"

CHOOF: (giggling) "Gee, mister, let me at least set
the weight. Or why don't you do it for me?"

MUSCLEMAN: (grinning sadistically) "Uh, sure thing."

[The bodybuilder sets it to an INCREDIBLY heavy
weight.]

MUSCLEMAN: (crossing his arms, a smug look on his
face) "Try that."

[Amazingly, the Choof lifts the weight with ease! The
bodybuilder is in shock! The self-proclaimed Spirit
of Happiness begins to do multiple repetitions, never
slowing down, and soon a crowd gathers.]

MUSCLEMAN: (wide-eyed) "How. how'd you do that?"

CHOOF: (giggling) "Simple! My legs have grown
incredibly powerful from carrying my fat body around
all my life!"

MUSCLEMAN: "So you've actually created a correlation
between being obese and being strong?"

CHOOF: "I sure have! And I'd be SO HAPPY to teach
you all about it!"

[All the bodybuilders enthusiastically agree! And if
you think it's ridiculous that anyone would accept
health tips from the Choof, consider that Richard
Simmons is a fitness guru to millions.]

[Anyway, the Choof dismounts the machine and waddles
back to the locker room. When he returns, he bears an
entire baker's rack of pies. The bodybuilders, who
haven't eaten anything but grilled fish and protein
shakes for several years, immediately give in to
temptation and pounce on the pies ravenously,
devouring them faster than Johnny Detson pissed all
his momentum away.]

[Soon all the bodybuilders and lying on the floor,
holding their bellies and moaning in pain. Well, all
except the original Austrian one. He crosses his
arms, shaking his head in disgust as his fellow
roid-ragers writhe on the ground, whom he addresses:

MUSCLEMAN: "Tsk, tsk. You really want to get all fat
so your legs become strong to carry you? How
pathetic. A real man gains his strength through
eating right, not eating pie!"

CHOOF: "Oh, you seem like a very nice person, Mr.
Bodybuilder. I'm so happy you've concocted that story
about eating right. Hopefully when the cops
eventually question you about your steroid usage, that
tall tale will be right on the tip of your tongue and
you'll be able to avoid being found out and charged
for possession!"

MUSCLEMAN: (angry) "You've got a real mouth on you!=20
You may think you're tough, but leg strength will only
go so far! Why don't you try an upper body exercise?=20
Look at those flabby triceps! They're so gelatinous,
I almost expect to see Bill Cosby try to sell them to
me on TV! Now if you're a REAL man, you'll take this
weight (he grabs a one-handed thirty-pound dumbbell
off the free weight rack) and do a tricep curl!"

CHOOF: "Tricep curl? Couldn't I just eat a cheese
curl instead?"

MUSCLEMAN: "No! Now sit down on this bench!"

CHOOF: (shrugging) "If it'll make you happy." (the
Choof sits down)

MUSCLEMAN: "Now see that the dumbbell has a weight on
each end. Press your hands on the underside of one of
those weights and push the thing above your head."

[The Choof does so, then grins even more broadly than
usual.]

CHOOF: "Silly bodybuilder. I may not be as strong as
you, but I can still lift _this_ weight. There is a
bit of a problem, though, and that's not making me
happy."

MUSCLEMAN: "And what's that?"

CHOOF: "Well, my hands are a bit sticky and slippery
from baking those pies, and I can feel this metal
weight hanging above my head starting to slip--"


CLONK!


[And with that, the weight does indeed slip, falling
on the Choof's head! With a LOUD thud, he slumps to
the floor, a huge bruise already forming beneath his
sun bonnet. The Austrian bodybuilder quickly drops to
his knees, checking on him, slapping his face.]

MUSCLEMAN: "Oh, no! Wake up, fat boy! This is
horrible!"

[At that moment, into the room walks the Choof's
career adviser, "Openly Gray" Francis Fay. He's not
afraid to let his hair gray even at only thirty years
old, you see. Uh, yeah. Anyway, he is an extremely
small, slight fellow, but that doesn't stop him from
wearing a similar outfit of bicycle shorts and a
muscleshirt that almost everyone else here is wearing.
When he sees the Choof lying on the floor, he lets
out a high-pitched scream and grabs at his hair. (I
think it's a little late now to try to avoid
stereotypes in this thing, what with the Austrian
bodybuilder and all the bicycle shorts, don't you?)=20
Anyway, Francis drops to the ground and begins
artificial resuscitation. for about five seconds.=20
Then he yelps in pain and darts back up to his feet,
blood trickling down his chin.]

MUSCLEMAN: "The buck teeth got 'ya, eh, little guy?"

FAY: (wiping his mouth, grimacing with pain) "Oh,
what a horrible pain! I think I may need an
ambulance!"

[As you can see. or as you _could_ see if this were a
visual medium. Francis' "horrible" cut is about
.00000000000000000002 Muta. You know how many brain
cells are involved in the average Midnight Assassin
thought process? Well, there are even _fewer_ red
blood cells involved in Francis' cut. But he's still
groaning in pain, clutching his mouth. Let's just say
Francis isn't the toughest guy in the world (that
would be the Midnight Assassin; the fact that he
swears and uses drugs proves it).]

FAY: (mumbling) "What happened here?"

MUSCLEMAN: "He dropped a weight on his head by
accident."

FAY: "Why was he holding a weight over his head?"

MUSCLEMAN: "He was trying to do a tricep curl. But
there's another question I have in mind: what is a
scrawny guy like you doing in a gym?"

FAY: "How am I supposed to get un-scrawny if I don't
come to a gym?"

MUSCLEMAN: "But you obviously haven't been lifting
any weights!"

FAY: (eyes darting from side-to-side, he chuckles
nervously) "Uh, I just haven't gotten around to it
yet. I've been, um, 'observing' the men. er,
gym-goers. to learn how to do the exercises right
first. Wouldn't want to injure myself like the poor
Choof here. But enough banter! We've got to get him
to a hospital!"

MUSCLEMAN: "Yeah, I think so. Maybe have them flush
out his arteries while he's there."

FAY: (pacing nervously) "Oh, I sure hope this
doesn't affect his chances in the ring; he's got a big
match coming up!"

MUSCLEMAN: "I'm sure he'll be fine. His brains
seemed pretty scrambled already."

FAY: (shaking his head, looking down at the
unconscious-yet-still-grinning Choof) "I hope you're
right. I hope you're right."

[Fade to yellow]
texanspaniard Posted on Jan 26 2009, 01:21 PM
  WWO Rewind 06/06/01

=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D [|) e - \\/\/ i [|\| d =3D=3D=3D=3D=
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D
`
>(( REWIND - THE CHOOF ))<
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D

SCENE ONE

[For a brief moment, the dark sky is lit a glowing
azure as a jagged bolt of lightning crashes down,
driving hard into what appears to be some sort of
generator. The machine resembles a bowl, sitting atop
a cage-like pyramid not unlike a smaller-scale Eiffel
Tower. Several of these energy-harnessing devices
stand in a row along a barren plain that ends at a
cliff. Far below, over the side of said cliff, what
we see there is a beach, which is currently being
bombarded by towering, torrential waves. A fierce
storm sweeps the ocean water about relentlessly, and
we hear alarms blaring in the background. More
lightning is sucked into the generators, accompanied
by ear-bludgeoning thunder every time. And yet amidst
all the noise, we can still hear voices in the
distance, along with the sound of footsteps.
Thousands of footsteps, marching in unison. Armies
are gathering...]


SCENE TWO

CHOOF: "Aaaah!"

[And suddenly, the picture changes entirely, as we see
the Choof leap out of bed, his head dripping with
sweat, his breath even more labored than usual. He's
smiling, but it's an empty smile, as his frightened
eyes and heavy panting reveal that he's quite
traumatized by the dream he was just having. And how
did we see that dream? Why, through the Dream-Cam, of
course, which is on his head again. For those
unfamiliar with the Dream-Cam, it's a silver
bowl-looking thing that's covered with wires and fits
on your head. Sort of like that thing the 1955 Doc
Brown was wearing when he first encountered Marty in
the first "Back to the Future."]

[Anyway, the Choof's entire body is painted yellow, he
has giant buck teeth, his eyes are always squinted, he
wears nothing but a yellow speedo and a bonnet with
six triangular flaps that make his head look like a
cartoonish sun, and he has a very small, pig-like
nose. Oh yeah, and he's REALLY fat - pretty much
spherical, actually. Only 5'9" or so but still 300
pounds. He loves to eat, you see. Especially pie.
Loves pie. Hey, I just wrote a new description rather
than just copying and pasting an old one. Someone's
got his working boots on tonight!]

[On with the story: we are in the Choof's bedroom,
which is painted yellow. And the bedspread is yellow.
So's the bed. Okay, just picture a room where
everything is yellow and bright, make all the decorum
something straight out a baby nursery, and you've
pretty much got a feel for what this lunatic's humble
abode looks like. Oh, yeah, and there's also another
guy in the room, one "Openly Gray" Francis Fay, the
Choof's career adviser. He's finally shown the
courage to openly admit... uh... that his hair is
graying prematurely. Yep, he's not dyeing it anymore.
He IS wearing a pink sweater vest, though, so...
um... well, anyway.]

FAY: (looking very concerned) "It's all right,
Choof! The nightmare's over!"

CHOOF: "Oh golly gee willikers and goody goody
gumdrops, Francis, I'm SO HAPPY you still had the
Dream-Cam! Now you've seen the horrible recurring
dream that's been plaguing me lately! Every night I
end up in this horrible post-apocalyptic world with
dark clouds and lightning and armies and tidal waves
and all those other things that 15-year-old comic book
fanboys think make for interesting imagery!"

FAY: "Oh, it sounds awful!"

CHOOF: "It is! I want to dream of happy things, not
this stuff! Or at least let me dream of things
relevant to my life, things that interest me! Heck,
let me dream about wrestling! At least that's
pertinent to me! But I don't really care about the
military and their diabolical plans, or what horrible
future awaits us because of them. I'm not impressed
by the dark and brooding. So why do I keep dreaming
about this stuff?"

[Francis crosses his arms and taps his foot, rolling
his eyes at the Choof. After a few moments, he pulls
the Dream-Cam off the Choof's head.]

FAY: (in a scolding tone) "Because you foolishly
read the Midnight Assassin's bio on the WWO website,
that's why! And man, does it ever read like that
15-year-old comic book fanboy imagery you were talking
about."

CHOOF: "Ah, yes. Apparently he's got a history of
randomly attacking people, kind of like a dog or
something, and so... um... the military brought him in
because, uh, well I don't know why the military would
want someone with the mentality of a dog, but
apparently they took him in=85"

FAY: "I think the bio said his rich dad pulled some
strings."

CHOOF: "Willikers! The military is desperate for
recruits, and he needed his dad to get him in?"

FAY: "I believe so."

CHOOF: "Well, that does indeed make me happy to know
that the military's not so understaffed that the
Midnight Assassin could get in without help from
Daddy! Joy! But not everything is joyous and happy
right now, I'm not-so-happy to say."

[Francis gasps.]

FAY: "You... Choof... not happy?"

CHOOF: (holding his head) "I can't believe it
either, but I think I'm approaching a minor state of
relative unhappiness! Reading that bio was just so
upsetting! It was so absurd - clearly a self-serving
list of lies and exaggerations; obviously the Midnight
Assassin fabricated this goofy story thinking it would
make him sound cool, because he's, well, got that
15-year-old comic book fanboy mentality. Like I said,
I'm not impressed when he tries to be dark and
brooding. After all, it seems like everyone tries to
be dark and brooding, and it's become extremely boring
and clich=E9. In fact, so many people are doing it that
it's become inescapable, and now this kind of stuff
has invaded my dreams. That's why the Midnight
Assassin simply has to go! Or else I'll become
(gasp!) unhappy!"

FAY: "Choof, this can't be! If you lose your eternal
happiness, then you won't have a gimmick! Well, maybe
that pie thing can sustain you for a while, but I
really think you need the 'twisted euphoria' angle,
too! Without it, you'll be much less marketable, and
as your career adviser, I gotta tell you that that
doesn't bode well!"

CHOOF: (uncertainty in his voice) "Uh... it makes me
so happy to hear you're looking out for my best
interests."

FAY: "Oh, always, Choof!"

CHOOF: "So what should I do?"

FAY: "Well, I think you've already got the right
idea. The only way to get the Midnight Assassin out
of your head is to eliminate him from your life! You
have to put him out of commission at Prelude to War."

CHOOF: "You know, if I'm to eliminate the Midnight
Assassin from the WWO forever... which I guess I need
to do if I'm to stop having these horrible dreams...
I'm really going to be hindered by all these pesky
American laws against excessive violence."

FAY: "Yeah... damned Puritanical roots of our law
code! Believe me, I'm no fan of this country's
conservative morality!"

CHOOF: "Oh, but I just had such a HAPPY revelation!
The PPV is in Washington, D.C., right? And while it's
technically in the District of Columbia, it's
essentially in Virginia, which in my view is part of
the south, which means there are probably tons of
rednecks there, and we all know rednecks would LOVE to
be lawless and shoot each other left and right, but
they can't because of the laws made by the spineless
Yanks up north!"

FAY: "That may be true, but what difference does it
make?"

CHOOF: "You'll see! Oh, and it will be a HAPPY DAY!"


SCENE 3

[The cameras begin rolling in the parking lot outside
the Capitol building as Francis Fay exits his car.]

FAY: (to the cameraman) "Why are you filming me?
The Choof just asked me to meet him here for some
reason."

CAMERAMAN: "Eh, I've only got a little film left on
this tape so I thought I'd use it up."

FAY: "Wow, finally an explanation for the ubiquitous
presence of a WWO cameraman."

[Francis continues to walk toward the arena, when
suddenly he hears a sound from below.]

FAY: (whirling around) "What was that?"

[Suddenly, a nearby manhole cover is pushed away.
Crawling out is none other than the Choof!]

FAY: "What the--"

[The Choof climbs out of the manhole, holding an
enormous circular block of cheese for some
inexplicable reason.]

CHOOF: "Golly gee willikers and goody goody gumdrops!
It's Francis Fay, the man who makes me HAPPIER than
anyone else in the world!"

FAY: "I do?"

CHOOF: "Sure! After all, you're living proof that
virtually anyone can hold down a job and live a fairly
productive life! You're an inspiration to millions, a
true hope for the future! And that MAKES ME HAPPY!
I'm so glad you agreed to meet me here today!"

FAY: "Uh, okay. Anyway, if you don't mind me
asking... WHY ARE YOU CRAWLING OUT OF A SEWER? And
furthermore, why are you carrying a massive cheese
block?!?"

CHOOF: (giggling) "Well, I was in the kitchen, ready
to make this block of cheese into a pie, when suddenly
it was stolen!"

FAY: "Someone stole _cheese_ from you?"

CHOOF: "Sure! Haven't you ever heard of Cheese
Stolen coffee cake?"

[Francis slaps his palm against his forehead.]

CHOOF: "But anyway, a bunch of sewer rats made off
with my cheese and headed up into the sewers!"

FAY: "Headed _up_ into the sewers? Where's your
kitchen, the center of the earth?"

[The Choof nods "yes," as if saying, "Of course my
kitchen is in the center of the earth!" Francis only
sighs.]

CHOOF: "So I chased after the rats, who were very
happy to have some cheese, which in turn made me SO
HAPPY! For the happiness of others makes me very
happy as well, Francis!"

FAY: "Uh..."

CHOOF: "Finally, I caught up to the rats, who were
defecating all over the cheese at this point, and I
said, 'Fellow buck-toothed brethren, there's no need
to steal that cheese! We can all defecate on it and
then bake it into a pie, and then we can all be VERY
HAPPY as we eat that pie, and then later we might eat
some other pies as well, which are now cooling on the
top floor of the Empire State Building! And the rats
said, 'The Empire State Building?' You put pies up
there to cool? And I said, 'But of course, what ELSE
do you think it was built for?' So then the rats and
I went to the Empire State Building and had tons of
fun, but eventually it was time to leave the
sewers..."

FAY: "Uh, the Empire State Building isn't in the
sewers."

CHOOF: (ignoring him) "And so that's when I took my
cheese and headed back here! And here I am, ready to
visit the District of Columbia legislature!"

FAY: "Choof, I must say=85 you are truly the most
deranged human being I've ever met. What led to this
degree of lunacy?"

CHOOF: "I'm not a lunatic, Francis! I'm just very
happy! Ecstatic even, you might say! I even take a
medication to stay happy called 'ecstasy!' It was
prescribed by the nice doctor who's SO HAPPY with his
job that he doesn't even need a fancy office or
clothes! That's why he works down at the street
corner, where he gives me my ecstasy five times a day,
and then--"

FAY: (cutting him off) "Choof, I know the continued
existence of the Midnight Assassin has been
threatening your happiness, but you... oh, never mind.
Anyway, Choof, I have no clue what you're planning on
doing in there tonight, and frankly I'm not sure I
want to know, but have fun."

CHOOF: "Thanks, Francis! And remember... BE HAPPY!"

(The Choof then begins to waddle up the stairs of the
District of Columbia's government building, pushing
the giant cheese in front of him like a wheel,
apparently oblivious to the dirt and
grime that's getting on it as a result.)

FAY: "Well, there goes the wrestling world's answer
to a madman version of Winnie the Pooh right there."

[The Choof heads up the stairs, walks through the
lobby, yada yada yada. He eventually makes his way to
the main chamber, where an emergency session has been
called, it seems. Something about building a new
underwater superhighway to Brazil or something.=20
Whatever. Stop asking questions.]

[And speaking of not asking questions, don't ask when
the Choof pulls an American flag seemingly out of
nowhere, just like they do in the cartoons. His
patriotism violates the very laws of reality, I
guess.]

[Upon seeing this bucktoothed yellow freak enter the
chamber, the Speaker of the, uh, District of
Columbia's House of Representatives stands up. And
no, I don't really know what kind of government
assembly the District of Columbia actually has. It
may not have a house, or a speaker, or hell, even a
building to meet in. But do we really care? I didn't
think so, so let's just keep going, shall we?]

SPEAKER: =93Who... or what... are you?=94

CHOOF: =93Oh, golly gee willikers and goody goody
gumdrops! I=92m so glad to be here before Congress!=20
It=92s so good to see you fine people working hard to
make this area the best it can be! It certainly needs
the help, being the wretched strip of dirt that it is!
But with your hard work, maybe someday this
'district' can surpass even Mississippi and West
Virginia in literacy rates and overall respectability!
And that makes me SO HAPPY!=94

[Needless to say, this causes a great deal of
grumbling amongst the representatives. Meanwhile, the
Choof hugs himself.]

SPEAKER: =93Who are you? A heckler? State your
business!=94

CHOOF: =93Oh, sorry. My name=92s the Choof! And I
brought you a pie!=94

[Seemingly out of nowhere, the Choof pulls a pie from
behind his back, placing it on the nearest table.]

CHOOF: "And this giant cheese, too!"

[The Choof drops the grimy cheese on its side.]

CHOOF: =93Sorry I didn=92t bring more for all of you, but
I figured the majority of you rednecks would
be all filled up on grits or country fried steak or
something!=94

[More grumbling amongst the representatives.]

CHOOF: =93Anyway, Mr. Speaker, today is Independence
Day!"

SPEAKER: (confused) "No, it's not. Independence Day
is a month away."

CHOOF: (completely ignoring him) "It=92s the day that
we celebrate the United States breaking away from
England. And I=92m here to ask the District of Columbia
to declare its independence as well!=94

SPEAKER: =93What?!?=94

CHOOF: =93Oh, come on! It's nothing new; sure, you're
a 'district,' not a state, but they're basically the
same thing, and plenty of states left the country
during the Civil War! Remember how HAPPY that
was?=94

SPEAKER: =93Happy? That led to the biggest bloodbath
in American history!=94

CHOOF: (oblivious) =93Joy! Then you=92re willing?=94

SPEAKER: =93Absolutely not!=94

CHOOF: (still oblivious) =93Joy! This will benefit
both sides! No longer will America as a whole have to
be embarrassed by including the District of Columbia
and it's crack-smoking mayors! And no longer
will the District of Columbia be on the receiving end
from embittered citizens of the states, who are always
angry that it's always increasing the national average
for retardation and teenage pregnancy!=94

SPEAKER: (pounding his gavel) =93Sir, I must ask you
to leave! You have insulted this assembly and the
area it represents!=94

CHOOF: =93Does this mean you=92ll secede?=94

SPEAKER: =93NO, it doesn=92t!=94

CHOOF: =93You really should reconsider. You lawmakers
wouldn't be restricted by the 'culture' and
'civilization' of the Yanks working uptown in the
national government! And then you could throw out
all those anti-violence laws that keep us from
settling our issues like real Southern men! And then
I could be totally barbaric against the Midnight
Assassin at Prelude to War, end his career, get him
out of my life and out of my head forever, and we'd
all be SO HAPPY!=94

SPEAKER: =93Get him out of here! Now!=94

[Security swarms on the Choof, dragging him by the
arms out of the chamber.]

CHOOF: (still grinning of course) =93And merry Fourth
of July to you, and to all good looking siblings for
breeding purposes!=94

[Angered by yet another inbreeding joke, which all
citizens in even remotely southern areas like the
District of Columbia have easily had enough of, the
guards drag the Choof to the front door of the
building, open it, and throw the Choof down the LONG
array of steps! They quickly shut the door, and as
the camera fades down, we hear the sound of the rotund
Choof rolling down the steps, giggling all the way.=20
He
lands at the feet of Francis Fay.]

FAY: "Any luck, Choof?"

CHOOF: (getting up, dusting himself off) "No, but
I'm still happy, Francis."

[The Choof's eyes narrow.]

CHOOF: "I'm going to eliminate the Midnight Assassin
at Prelude to War. That makes me VERY HAPPY."

[Fade to yellow as the Choof's eyebrows arch downward
ominously.]
texanspaniard Posted on Jan 26 2009, 01:20 PM
  WWO Live Mike 05/27/01

" ======================================== "
THE CHOOF
" ======================================== "


[We find ourselves in an arena parking lot. Smoke
floats up into the sky, emanating from a large
barbecue pit.]


[Manning the barbecue pit is the bizarre Choof, a
short, spherical man whose entire body is hairless and
painted yellow. He wears a strange bonnet with six
triangular flaps sticking out of it, giving his head
the appearance of a cartoonish sun. He has enormous
buck teeth, a small, pig nose, and his eyes are
constantly squinting, as if from his own sun-like
radiance. He wears nothing but a yellow speedo and a
white "Kiss the Choof" apron. He also wears a white
chef's hat over the bonnet. As always, an enormous
grin is on his face.]


[Anyway, the Choof has apparently come to Baltimore a
bit early, and tonight the arena is hosting some other
event; it's probably roller hockey or something
equally… uh, "small scale." We see that several pies
(?!?) are on the barbecue grill. The Choof flips them
over with a giant spatula, singing his theme song,
"Happiness Pie" by the Kids in the Hall to himself.
He then notices that a cameraman is filming him.]


CHOOF: "Well, golly gee willikers and goody goody
gumdrops! I've got a visitor! Would you like one of
my barbecue pies?"


[The cameraman takes a step back. He appears to be a
local news guy, and couldn't help but notice the
yellow-painted tub of goo barbecuing pies in the
parking lot, I guess. Imagine that.]


CHOOF: "How nice of you to decline and leave more pie
for me! Such generosity makes me SO HAPPY!"


[The Choof pauses for a moment, looking to enter a
brief euphoric trance… again, a REAL euphoric trance,
not just a lobotomized stare like that table-loving
wrestler in that other fed.]


CHOOF: "It's good to see that everyone is so generous
in the WWO! I'm definitely trying to contribute to
that feeling myself! That's why I've been giving so
many pies to people lately, starting with the Amazing
Romanis! Those two gypsies just make me SO HAPPY for
some reason - probably because seeing Ravnos again
brings me back to the old NCWA days when we were
performing in North Carolina gymnasiums. Ah, such
fond memories! Why are they fond? Because back then,
I hadn't been exposed to the depressingly mindless
blather of the Midnight Assassin! Those were the
days! Life was better then, and it makes me SO HAPPY
to think of those times!"


[The Choof grins so broadly it seems like the tips of
his mouth will reach his ears. He also appears to
believe this cameraman was sent by the WWO, which we
can only assume makes him even happier, since that
would mean that one less WWO cameraman could
potentially be chronicling the incoherent ramblings of
the Midnight Assassin right now.]


CHOOF: "Furthermore-- hey, what's that I hear?"


[The Choof turns around to see an old man being mugged
in the parking lot!]


CHOOF: "Oh, joy! That makes me so happy…"


[The Choof's voice deepens on that last word.
Suddenly, he seems creepier than ever before, and the
cameraman takes another step back.]


CHOOF: (still smiling, though his eyes seem to be
widening a bit) "Hear it, my friend? Hear the
screams of the man as he is mugged over there?"


[The Choof stares off into space, his eyes
ever-widening.]


CHOOF: "Sometimes screams of pain are the most joyous
sound in the world. Sometimes... you need to hear
that pain… to be reminded of its existence... lest you
forget the feeling of pain... lest you forget how to
feel at all... lest the feeling of happiness become
forever lost to you. And then life... becomes a
wasteland... a perpetual plain of grey... that's why
we need that pain… need to hear it... need to make
others _feel_ it. Like the Midnight Assassin...
Midnight Assassin… he will feel it..."


[Suddenly, the Choof shakes his head, apparently
awoken from his reverie. His eyes return to a squint,
and his face and tone become jolly again. He goes
back to tending his pies, which are burning, a fact
that seems quite lost on him.]


CHOOF: "Golly gee willikers, what was I saying? Oh,
yes, I was just saying it's always good to see old men
sharing their wealth with the kids, helping them get a
good start on life! Such generosity makes me so
happy! Anyway, very soon the WWO will hold a battle
royale for all the newcomers, and the winner will be
ME! I'm the Spirit of Happiness, after all, and with
that in mind, I have spread happiness throughout all
the world, gathering publicity for the WWO! And after
I win the battle royale, I'll be on the path to
success in the WWO, and maybe someday I'll even have
the WWO Title around my waist--"


[The Choof stops abruptly, looking down at his massive
belly.]


CHOOF: "Uh, better make that 'have the WWO belt
draped across my shoulder' -- and with President Stone
behind me -- which I'm sure he will be when he
receives the 743 pies I sent to his house this morning
-- soon I'll be the WWO's most recognizable
personality, and my title reign will make WWO fans
everywhere very, VERY HAPPY! And as champion, I'll
have lots of influence backstage, and then I can get
the Midnight Assassin fired, and then no one will have
to listen to him confuse the words 'diluted' and
'deluded' anymore! (I guess _maybe_ 'diluted bitches'
actually means something in Midnight Assassin-land,
but I sure can't imagine what!) Heck, they won't have
to listen to him butcher the English language in
general with his pathetic attempts to look tough by
swearing forty-thousand times per sentence and using
cheesy 'gangsta' lingo (or at least his corny
stereotyped version of it). And won't that be a happy
day!"


[The Choof hugs himself.]


CHOOF: "But you really have to pity the Midnight
Assassin. Life must be so hard when you can't speak.
Well, he can make sound, but no one could possibly
ever understand what he was saying, considering his
words seem to be strung together at random! And there
are so many of them, too; he just rambles on
endlessly! I really do feel sorry for him… but I have
a plan! I'll cheer him up with a banana pie! He kept
calling me the 'banana man' on Rewind; I guess he's
obsessed with bananas! It must be a phallic thing.
That would make sense; guys who try to act super tough
-- and who fits that description more than the
Midnight Assassin? -- often do so to hide their
phallic preoccupations. Golly gee, psychoanalysis at
a distance MAKES ME SO HAPPY! Well, if the Midnight
Assassin wants a look at MY banana, perhaps they'll be
an Inverted Stinkyface in his future! Maybe at the
battle royale at the PPV!"


[The Choof hugs himself again.]


CHOOF: "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some pies to
deliver!"


[The Choof scoops up the charred pies with his bare
hands (?!), walking back toward the arena, apparently
oblivious to the pain of his hands' burning flesh. It
is then that a voice calls out to him.]


VOICE: "Choof, what are you doing here?"


[The cameras turn to the speaker, a small, short, wiry
man wearing beige slacks, a white, button-down
collared shirt, and a green sweater-vest. He has
short, neatly-gelled brown hair and a carefully
trimmed, narrow mustache; both have noticeable streaks
of gray, made even more noticeable by their apparent
prematurity (he looks to be only about thirty years
old). His hands are behind his back, and he rocks
back and forth on the balls of his feet.]


CHOOF: (turning to face the man) "Oh, that's
wonderful! Another visitor! That makes me SO HAPPY!
But... uh... who are you?"


MAN: (confused) "Don't you remember me? We met in
the segment that aired on Rewind. I'm 'Openly Gray'
Francis Fay."


CHOOF: "Openly... _gray_?"


FAY: "You don't remember my story, either?"


CHOOF: (blushing) "I guess my memory isn't what it
used to be. You see, I passed by the Midnight
Assassin's dressing room last week, and we all know
what inhaling the air in _that_ room can do to your
brain! After all, he is a proud admitted drug user,
not to mention an alcoholic. I guess he thinks that
makes him sound tough and intimidating, though in
reality it makes me envision a stoned lush staggering
about the ring like an idiot! Oh, this newcomers'
battle royale is going to be a piece of cake… or in my
case, pie!"


FAY: "I see. Well, through the power of copying and
pasting I'll recap my identity for you! At one time,
I may have dyed my hair to fight back the gray
streaks, but no more! It was a real turning point in
my life; I had begun to prematurely gray, and for a
long time, I was ashamed. I knew I was… different
than most people. But I'm not going to hide in the
closet anymore; it's time to be proud of who I am!
I'm openly gray at thirty years old, and it's not
always easy, but I won't let the prejudices and
hang-ups of others keep Francis Fay from being Francis
Fay!"


CHOOF: "Ah, now I remember! It helps that you were
able to recite the explanation from the last flash
word-for-word!"


FAY: "Computers are indeed a wonderful thing!"


CHOOF: "Indeed, though I'm sure this metafictional
discussion is upsetting some realism-junkie out there,
so let's cut to the chase, shall we? What brings you
here?"


FAY: "Well, as you know, my job is to assist you in
getting your career off the ground. Remember how we
were going to brainstorm for ways to win over the
Romanis? I agree with you that they could be valuable
allies, as in my opinion they're the best tag-team in
the WWO, easily. And considering that you came down
to ringside during their match and _didn't_
inadvertently cause them to lose, which we all know is
something of a rare thing in this sport, I think
that's a good omen for a possible alliance!"


CHOOF: "I was happy to help the Romanis!"


FAY: "Uh, actually, I think you just sort of
distracted them, and in the future you should really
better coordina--"


CHOOF: (cutting him off, oblivious) "Of course,
doing pretty much anything tends to make me happy…
well, short of listening to the Midnight Assassin's
tirades about crappy nu-metal bands, anyway--"


FAY: (interjecting) "Anyway, Choof, I really think
things are going _fabulously_ so far, as you've
started to make some waves around the WWO..."


CHOOF: "Oh, I know! I was mentioned in an Ultimate
Thrasher segment! Truly the highlight of my career!
That made me SO HAPPY!"


FAY: "Uh, yeah. But anyway, I've been thinking about
the last time we talked, and you were thinking about
Behemoth and genetic experimentation, and how you
wanted to be cloned."


CHOOF: "Why not? Think how much more happiness I
could spread if there were more of me! Oh, I wish
there were some geneticists here right now so I could
give them my blood or whatever they need to clone me;
that would make me SO HAPPY! (he looks at his bulbous
arm) I've been hoping to get some proof that I
actually have veins buried under all my flab for a
long time anyway! I should go find Dr. Stykes..."


[Francis makes a gagging expression in regard to the
"veins buried under all my flab" comment.]


FAY: "Uh, yeah. Charming. Anyway, it just seems
dangerous to me. Concentrate on your wrestling career
instead of this science fiction silliness. And I
wouldn't get anywhere near Dr. Stykes with Behemoth
around."


CHOOF: "Oh, Francis, your concern for me makes me SO
HAPPY! But you shouldn't be worrying about me! Dr.
Stykes isn't going to hurt me!"


FAY: "How do you know?"


CHOOF: "He won't be able to! No one will!"


FAY: (exasperated) "How do you figure?"


CHOOF: "Because I'll have an army of Choof clones at
my side!"


FAY: "Only if Dr. Stykes cloned you!"


CHOOF: "Which he will, I'm sure!"


FAY: "Why would he give you an army of clones if you
were going to use that army against him?"


[The Choof seems to ponder this question for a moment,
rubbing his chin.]


CHOOF: "I'll bribe him with a pie."


FAY: "HE'S NOT GOING TO DO IT IN EXCHANGE FOR PIE!"


CHOOF: "I dunno... I bake a mean pie."


FAY: (getting REALLY flustered) "Choof... you're not
making ANY sense!"


CHOOF: "Francis, I sense you're becoming unhappy,
which makes me unhappy as well, though happy at the
same time, for it gives me the chance to make you
happy, which would be better than being unhappy, which
means we'd all be happier in the end! And I know just
the thing you can do to become happier!"


FAY: "What's that?"


CHOOF: "Go buy a Midnight Assassin T-shirt, assuming
they actually make one, because after the PPV, they're
going to be rare Collector's Items, as his career will
be officially over! And then his shirts will finally
be worth something, ironically enough, and you can
make a fortune on E-Bay selling yours to some
cybernerd! And then when the Choof army arrives and
begins to devour everything in sight, causing a food
shortage that sends food prices through the roof,
you'll have extra money to help feed yourself! Unlike
the rest of the world, you might even avoid outright
starvation, and wouldn't that be a happy thing! JOY!"


[Francis only stares wide-eyed at the deranged yellow
creature before him.]


CHOOF: "Now if you'll excuse me, I still have these
pies to deliver."


[And with that, the Choof makes his way toward the
arena.]


[Fade to yellow.]
texanspaniard Posted on Jan 26 2009, 01:19 PM
  WWO Rewind 05/23/01

============= [|) e - \\/\/ i [|\| d ============
`
>(( REWIND - THE CHOOF ))<
=================================================


[The morning air is brisk and cool. The camera begins
rolling with a close-up of blades of glass, grown tall
and dripping with dew. Above, the sky is clear and
blue, tinged with orange as the sun climbs over the
horizon and casts the dawn’s first rays. Pulling
back, the camera reveals a landscape of rolling,
grassy hills, peppered with trees of various sizes and
species. A venerable, immense oak provides shade for
a trio of snow-white cows, while squirrels and
chipmunks scamper about in the branches above. The
hazy, purple outline of mountains lines the horizon in
the distance.]


[We hear a voice, male but definitely a bit on the
effeminate side.]


VOICE: “Ah, such a beautiful day! What a morning!
It’s so good to get away from the city now and then!”


[The cameras turn to the speaker, a small, short, wiry
man wearing beige slacks, a white, button-down
collared shirt, and a green sweater-vest. He has
short, neatly-gelled brown hair and a carefully
trimmed, narrow mustache; both have noticeable streaks
of gray, made even more noticeable by their apparent
prematurity (he looks to be only about thirty years
old). His hands are behind his back, and he rocks
back and forth on the balls of his feet as he takes in
the pastoral scene before him.]


MAN: “Oh, yes. It was definitely worth it to drive
out here. Of course, I had to go to bed frightfully
early last night to make it out here so early today,
and there’s nothing worse than missing a night on the
town, but standing here now, the sun shining on my
face like God was giving me a little tickle on my
tummy... I can honestly say it’s all worth it!”


[A smile on his face, the man closes his eyes and
inhales the country air deeply. Then we hear a
familiar voice.]


FAMILIAR VOICE: “Golly gee willikers and goody goody
gumdrops! I’m SO HAPPY you’re enjoying my home! Of
course, I might be even happier if I knew who you were
and why you’re here in the first place, as it’s a bit
disconcerting to find a stranger hovering over you
when you wake up in the morning! Maybe not as
disconcerting as the embarrassing realization that I'm
technically of the same species as Midnight Assassin,
but disconcerting nonetheless!”


[The cameras turn 180 degrees, and behind we see a
small cottage made of gray stones, surrounded by an
extensive garden of various (mostly yellow) flowers.
Smoke billows from the brick chimney on the right side
of the house, and a white picket fence, laced with
decorative ivy and moss, surrounds the perimeter, both
details adding to the quaint, rustic look of the
place.]


[And then, of course, there’s the owner of the
“familiar voice,” emerging from behind the red front
door. He is INCREDIBLY fat, looking to be almost
spherical. Standing at less than six feet tall, he
still approaches the 300-pound mark, if that's any
indication of how fat he is. But that's not the
weirdest part of his appearance by a long shot. He is
completely naked, save a bright yellow speedo and a
strange, six-pronged yellow bonnet that makes his head
resemble a cartoonish sun. Seriously, that's all he's
wearing - no shirt, no boots, etc, and believe me, it
ain't pretty on a man of his considerable girth.
What's more, his entire body is painted bright yellow,
as if he took a bath in yellow paint. He has HUGE
buck teeth, like a beaver's almost, and his eyes are
squinted as if from his own sun-like radiance. And
perhaps weirdest/most creepy of all, he bears an
ENORMOUS grin that doesn't ever seem to diminish.]


[It’s the Choof, of course. The Spirit of Happiness.]


CHOOF: “Good morning! And again, who might you be?
I woke up this morning to find that you’d hooked me up
to the Dream-Cam and were reading my happy thoughts.”


[You might recall the Choof dreaming of a talking WWO
title belt, which begged the Choof to win it and
restore prestige to it.]


MAN: “Well, I wanted to make sure you were truly
committed to winning the upcoming battle royale, which
will be your first step to contending for the WWO
Championship. And I’m glad to see that you were; you
were even dreaming that the belt was talking to you,
begging you to win it and restore prestige to it.
That’s definitely a good sign, Choof! You’re ready to
become a champion!”


CHOOF: (hugging himself) “Oh, that’s wonderful!
That makes me SO HAPPY! But... uh... who are you?”


MAN: “Oh, pardon me! How rude not to introduce
myself! My name is ‘Openly Gray’ Francis Fay.”


CHOOF: “Openly... _gray_?”


FAY: “That’s right! At one time, I may have dyed my
hair to fight back the gray streaks, but no more! It
was a real turning point in my life; I had begun to
prematurely gray, and for a long time, I was ashamed.
I knew I was… different than most people. But I’m not
going to hide in the closet anymore; it’s time to be
proud of who I am! I’m openly gray at thirty years
old, and it’s not always easy, but I won’t let the
prejudices and hang-ups of others keep Francis Fay
from being Francis Fay!”


CHOOF: “What an uplifting tale of personal triumph!
It makes me SO HAPPY to hear it! It’s almost enough
to erase the mental scars of the Midnight Assassin
rambling on about Incubus for fifteen minutes
recently, but, uh, maybe it’s best we avoid conjuring
those images.”


FAY: “Uh, yeah. Anyway, Choof, you’re new to the
WWO, and that’s where I come in. I specialize in
talent enhancement, in getting wrestlers ‘over.’ I
once worked with the Choir in the WWO before.”


CHOOF: “Who?”


FAY: “Heather Lowry, a.k.a. Adam Abaddon, and Michael
Malachi.”


[Clearly, neither name rings a bell with the Choof.]


FAY: “You’ve really never heard of them?”


CHOOF: (giggling) “I tend to repress stories as
unhappy as theirs, I guess.”


FAY: “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. I'd recap
their story from the WWA, but since I'm NOT Steve
Dumars, I don't presume that what happens in other
feds interests anyone in the WWO."


CHOOF: "And that wise revelation should make everyone
watching this VERY HAPPY!"


FAY: "Indeed. Anyway, Choof, you want to team up? I
can help you win that battle royale.”


CHOOF: “Well, Mr. Fay, I appreciate your offer, but
do I really need help to get through the other guys
competing in it? And besides, I plan to be so full of
pie that no one will be able to lift me and throw me
over the top rope! In fact, is there anyone in the
WWO heavier than me?"


FAY: “What about Behemoth?”


CHOOF: “You mean the cute girl with the really big
lips?”


FAY: “No, that’s Dark Angel.”


CHOOF: “Oh, you mean that musclehead with the goofy
accent? Or am I getting my 'sci-fi genetic
experiments' confused?”


FAY: “Yeah, you are; you're thinking of Universal
Soldier now. Though I can see why you’d be confused.
Of course, both those comparisons have been made about
a trillion times and they’re really not clever
anymore. See, THIS is why you need me, Choof! To
point these things out for you.”


CHOOF: "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to have you
around. After all, they say that more is merrier, and
while I can't imagine myself being any merrier than I
already am, I guess it's worth a try! Hopefully I'll
soon have even more friends in the WWO, specifically
the Amazing Romanis! Ravnos looked SO HAPPY to see me
again on Showcase! He and I were good friends in the
NCWA... well, actually, I'm not sure he ever spoke a
word to me, but that's probably just because he was
busy doing his color commentating and fortune telling
or whatever gypsies do."


FAY: “Fortune telling? Choof, you really shouldn’t
subscribe to stereotypes like that! Oh, and by the
way, that floral arrangement with those pink
carnations is just lovely!”


CHOOF: “Thank you!”


FAY: “But anyway, I'm really not sure the Romanis
want to be your friend, Choof. Though you _do_ all
share a common love for mischief. An alliance between
you might indeed make sense, but how are you going to
convince them of that?”


[The Choof rubs his chin, pondering the question. His
eyes then light up and he raises his index finger.
Before he can say anything, though…]


FAY: (interrupting) "And _don't_ say you'll bake
them another pie!"


[The Choof's finger drops as he aborts his intended
statement.]


CHOOF: "Uh... I guess I don't know how I'll convince
them. But that makes me happy! It'll give us a
chance to get to know each other as we brainstorm for
a way! I do enjoy brainstorming, as I believe if you
have a brain to use, you definitely should take
advantage of it, because not everyone does! Take the
Midnight Assassin, for example, who has to be the most
cerebrally challenged person I've ever seen. Just
looking at him makes me SO HAPPY!"


FAY: "It makes you happy to see that Midnight
Assassin is cerebrally challenged?"


CHOOF: "Certainly! When I look at the Midnight
Assassin, I realize the true potential depths of human
wretchedness!"


FAY: "And that makes you HAPPY?"


CHOOF: "Well, it makes me happy to know I'm not the
Midnight Assassin, and that I'm capable of speaking
for more than thirty seconds without making a complete
fool of myself! That makes me very happy indeed! And
knowing that losers like him are going to be among my
opponents in the battle royale, well, that makes me
VERY HAPPY about my chances at the PPV! And it
probably makes the Midnight Assassin happy to know
that he's making me happy, which means we're all
happy, except maybe the Midnight Assassin's parents,
that is -- they were probably hoping for a NON-retard
for a son."


FAY: (as always, a bit bewildered by what tends to
come out of the Choof's mouth) "Um... okay."


CHOOF: "And you know what else makes me happy,
Francis?"


FAY: "Um... everything?"


CHOOF: "Well, more specifically, this battle royale
makes me happy, because it'll give me a chance to take
out the Midnight Assassin once and for all! And
someone better do it soon, because if Behemoth has
shown us anything, it's that genetic experimentation
is running rampant these days! For all we know,
someone could be planning on cloning the Midnight
Assassin!"


FAY: "Someone's planning to clone the Midnight
Assassin?"


CHOOF: "Well, I have no reason to believe that, but
it's still within the realm of distant possibilities!
Stranger, more unlikely things have happened; for
example, rumor has it that the Midnight Assassin
finally learned to eat with a fork! But this battle
royale will give me a chance to prevent any potential
cloning of the ol' M.A. and kill that disease before
it spreads! Joy!"


FAY: (extremely confused and exasperated) "Why would
anyone clone HIM?"


CHOOF: (shrugging) "I don't know, which is fine,
because not knowing means I'm ignorant, and ignorance
is bliss, and that MAKES ME SO HAPPY! But like I
said, anything's possible, and we can't take any
chances! This is the Midnight Assassin we're talking
about!"


FAY: (totally lost) "How did we get into the topic
of cloning in the first place?"


CHOOF: (pointing into the distance) "I was just
looking at that sheep over there on the pasture. I
guess it made me think of Dolly."


FAY: “Oh, yeah. Dolly the genetically engineered
sheep. Wait a second... remember that Dolly IS a
sheep. Can you really clone a human? I mean, humans
are more complicated, highly evolved creatures than
sheep… well, unless you're the Midnight Assassin, that
is.”


CHOOF: “I hope so! Why, if _I_ had a bunch of
clones, think how much happiness I could spread!
Think how many pies I could bake! Especially with my
new bakery at my disposal!"


FAY: "You're getting a bakery?"


CHOOF: "Well, I'll have to build one to support my
Choof army's pie-eating needs! Oh, it would be grand
to have a legion of Choofs! We could all help each
other squeeze into our speedos and sun bonnets in the
morning! Oh, it’s such a happy thought I feel like I
could explode with joy! If only it were possible--”


[Suddenly, a strange look comes over the Choof’s face…
well, I guess he always has a strange look on his
face, but this is a different one. One of
revelation.]


FAY: (suspicious) “Penny for your thoughts, Choof.”


CHOOF: “I was... just thinking... of the
possibilities. And they’re very happy ones!”


FAY: “You want to clone yourself?”


CHOOF: “I think it’s worth consideration. What harm
could come from having a race of Choofs milling
around?”


FAY: “The world would be a happier place, that’s for
sure! Maybe I could clone myself as well!”


CHOOF: “Yes, indeed! The world would be indeed be
much more happy and gay with a bunch of Francis Fays!”


FAY: “Yes! More happy and... gay indeed!”


CHOOF: “But all this talk of cloning is for down the
line. My immediate concern is the battle royale. You
think you can help me win it?”


FAY: “Well, let's think about who'll be involved.
Lion Tamer may end up being too lazy to show up, Steve
Dumars will be too busy talking about his NEO title...
hmmm, not too much to worry about there. But you've
been ragging on the Midnight Assassin really hard, and
he's probably going to be really mad at you, Choof.
He may really try to take it to you at the PPV...”


CHOOF: “Oh, no! It pains me to think I may have made
the Midnight Assassin unhappy! Clearly, I’ll have to
make it up for him! A new pie is in order, I think!
One made just for him. But I’ll have to think of a
new ingredient to put in... one that will make him
happy!”


FAY: “And what might that be?”


[The Choof rubs his many chins.]


CHOOF: “I’m not sure yet... I think I’ll go inspect
my pantry.”


[And so the Choof walks back toward his cottage, a
curious “Openly Gray” Francis Fay in tow.]
texanspaniard Posted on Jan 26 2009, 01:18 PM
  WWO Live Mike 05/13/01

" ======================================== "
THE CHOOF
" ======================================== "


[It is a dark and stormy night.]


[Wait a second, no it's not! This is a Choof flash,
where darkness is strictly forbidden. Not so sure
about storms, though. Anything inherently unhappy
about storms? I mean, plants DO need rain. Of
course, rain may be forbidden in the Choof's
sun-oriented world, too… ah, dang it, now I'm really
beginning to confuse myself.]


[Okay, here's the REAL scene: an ice cream parlor.
One by the beach. And the Choof is sitting at a
wooden patio table, upon which sits an ENORMOUS
sundae. Strawberries, nuts, chocolate, whipped cream…
it's all there. An obscene amount of food, really.]


[Now for those of you unfamiliar with the Choof, he is
INCREDIBLY fat, looking to be almost spherical.
Standing several inches below six feet tall, he still
approaches the 300-pound mark, if that's any
indication of how fat he is. But that's not the
weirdest part of his appearance by a long shot. He is
completely naked, save a bright yellow speedo and a
strange, six-pronged yellow bonnet that makes his head
resemble a cartoonish sun. Seriously, that's all he's
wearing - no shirt, no boots, etc, and believe me, it
ain't pretty on a man of his considerable girth.
What's more, his entire body is painted bright yellow,
as if he took a bath in yellow paint. He has HUGE
buck teeth, like a beaver's almost, a tiny pig-like
nose, and his eyes are squinted as if from his own
sun-like radiance. And perhaps weirdest and creepiest
of all, he bears an ENORMOUS grin that doesn't ever
seem to diminish.]


[Anyway, the Choof dips his giant spoon into the
sundae, scooping out a huge bite. He grins at the
camera as some ice cream drips messily down his
bloated face.]


CHOOF: "Golly gee willikers and goody goody gumdrops!
Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my pie-baking, I
forget the joys of other desserts! I'll have to be
careful about that, because my world stands to become
more pie-oriented than ever before once I get my new
bakery! Yes, now that I’m in the WWO, I’ll be sure to
make tons of money, and I’ll finally be able to build
a pastry shop of my very own! After all, the way I
see it, it’s only a matter of time until I become WWO
World Champion, and then I’ll be pulling in the big
bucks, which makes me VERY HAPPY! It may sound
presumptuous for me to already be making claims on the
belt, but it seems that the so-called top contenders
like Johnny Detson don’t even want it, so I figure
it’s mine for the taking eventually! I just have to
be patient.”


[The Choof takes another bite of his sundae. And
another. And the camera goes into fast-forward, and
we see him devour the entire thing, which is truly an
amazing yet simultaneously gruesome sight. Anyway, he
finishes the thing, and the camera returns to normal
speed. The Choof leans back, pats his immense belly
with contentment, and slowly rises from his seat.
Other patrons of the sundae bar cautiously move away,
greatly disturbed by the appearance of this
speedo-wearing, yellow orb of a man.]


[The Choof approaches the counter and orders a
triple-cone... for the road, y'know... and begins to
waddle down a wooden walkway along the beach,
continuing to draw well-deserved stares from the
people around him. It being early May, it's still a
bit on the chilly side as beach weather goes, but you
know how anxious some people are to get out there as
soon as the temperature starts to rise.]


CHOOF: "Ah, it's so nice to see these people out here
on the beach, enjoying the sun, finding true
happiness! What could be happier than a sunny day on
the beach? Well, I guess for _these_ people, an even
_happier_ situation would be a sunny day on the beach
while NOT being an ugly, semi-retarded troll, but
clearly that's never going to be the case for most of
these people, so I guess they'll just have to take
what they can get! Oh, well. Happiness is possible
for ugly, semi-retarded trolls, too, thankfully. Just
look the Midnight Assassin! He must be VERY HAPPY, as
Mark Stone has showed him more generosity than anyone
should expect to receive! Despite his clichéd,
prosaic name, his annoying gangsta-speak, and his
insufferable penchant for rambling on about nothing in
particular, including his musical tastes, which no one
cares about at all, Stone STILL keeps him on the
payroll! President Stone, you are truly a kind man,
and that makes me VERY HAPPY! We need more people in
the world like you, especially if that meant we’d have
LESS people like Midnight Assassin!"


[The Choof stuffs the ice cream cone in his mouth (a
disgusting sight, to be sure, as he chomps it down
hurriedly with his beaver-esque teeth), and then hugs
himself.]


CHOOF: "Oh, I truly can't wait for this upcoming
battle royale, as perhaps I’ll meet Midnight Assassin
there, which should make him VERY HAPPY, which makes
me very happy, as everyone knows that I'm just as
concerned with the happiness of others as I am my own!
And why should you be happy, Midnight Assassin?
Because finally, you get to lose to someone
respectable! Granted, I’m not really familiar with
your previous wrestling career, but I’m guessing it
entails losing to
wife-beater-and-jean-shorts-wearing-hardcore-gangsta-wannabes
in high school gymnasiums, and that had to have been
humiliating! But there's no shame in tapping out to
the 'Sunshine on My Shoulder,' the most painful
submission hold in the WWO... well, second-most
painful if you count watching a Midnight Assassin
segment, but that’s neither here nor there! Anyway,
doesn't that make you happy? Imagine the joy you'll
be feeling as I wrench your arms out of the sockets!
Oh, happy day!"


[The Choof walks onto the beach, waddling down onto
his spot on the sand, where he's set up a yellow
umbrella, laid out a yellow towel, and set down a big
picnic basket filled with the several lunches he's
prepared for himself. He plops down on the towel,
lying on his back, his hands behind his head. After a
few moments, he sits up again, a grin on his face as
always.]


CHOOF: "What's that I hear?"


[The Choof sniffs the air.]


CHOOF: "I think I hear a pie being baked somewhere!"


[The Choof squints his eyes, presumably in an attempt
to "hear" a pie being baked. There's something
screwed up about the way his five senses work,
methinks.]


CHOOF: "Hmmm… there doesn't appear to be any
pie-baking going on on this beach after all. Well,
that's not a happy thing! It shall have to be
remedied!"


[With that, the Choof reaches into his basket, pulling
out some sort of Easy-Bake Oven-looking contraption,
along with a bag of flour and various other
ingredients.]


CHOOF: "One should never leave the house without the
proper pie-baking equipment! After all, at any given
moment, I might be reminded that the Amazing Romanis
weren’t at Showcase to accept my pie, and that's just
incredibly depressing, and I need a pie to perk me up!
Thankfully, I'll soon be eating a delicious pie and
my euphoria will return. And even more thankfully,
soon the Romanis WILL be sharing a pie with me! I
rather like those fellows, as I remember Ravnos from
the old NCWA days! They may not trust me now, being
the suspicious gypsies they are, but soon I will win
the Battle Royale, and then title shots will come my
way, and then everyone, including the Romanis, will
flock to be my friend, which will obviously make
everyone very happy! The Romanis may think that those
marbles would upset me, but in fact they only
illustrated our common love for mischief that should
make us allies! Oh, well... they may not see it now,
but when I win the battle royale, prove myself a
worthy contender, and start winning gold, they’ll come
around! I just hope that WWO title belt fits around
my belly!"


VOICE: "That seems unlikely."


[Much to our surprise, what appears to be a
holographic image of the WWO World Title Belt is
suddenly floating over the Choof's head, speaking to
him! Yes, the belt has a mouth. Why not?]


CHOOF: "Wow! A floating, talking WWO title belt!
This is the strangest, most inexplicable thing I’ve
ever seen... well, other than the Midnight Assassin’s
acceptance into the WWO. What's going on here?"


BELT: "Well, Choof, this is actually all a dream."


CHOOF: "It is?"


BELT: "Yes. You're not actually on a beach, nor is
it a bright sunny day at the current time. It's
actually late at night. You ate WAY too much at
dinner, and it's affecting your dreams."


CHOOF: "Golly gee willikers and goody goody gumdrops!
So are we viewing this via the infamous Dream-Cam?"


[Okay, so I’m filming a dream. Yeah, it’s silly, but
at least I sent my flash to the right address and I’m
not swearing at all, so just be thankful for that.
*g*]


BELT: "We certainly are. Someone is using the
Dream-Cam to read your thoughts right now."


CHOOF: "So in reality, right now I'm lying in my
bed--"


BELT: "Actually, you're lying on the couch, where you
fell asleep during an Iron Chef marathon. You _do_
love the Food Network, that's for sure."


CHOOF: "Well, there really isn’t anything funnier
than when the host bites into that pepper.”


BELT: “I’ll have to agree with you there.”


CHOOF: (shaking his head like a wet dog) “Okay, I'm
lying on the couch, and someone's using the Dream-Cam
to read my thoughts. So I've got that weird metal
contraption on my head with all the sucker-thingies
and wires and lights and stuff?"


BELT: "That's correct."


CHOOF: "Who would do such a thing?"


BELT: "I don't know. I'm just a chunk of metal
myself."


CHOOF: "What's your purpose here anyway?"


BELT: "Uh, I think I'm just here to provide the most
blatant visual connection possible between THE CHOOF
and the WWO TITLE (in all caps to strengthen the
connection in President Stone’s mind)."


CHOOF: "So you're acting as a cheap, shameless
subliminal bit of imagery to assist me in winning a
WWO belt?"


BELT: "Yep, I think that's the plan."


CHOOF: "Well, that's brilliant! That makes me SO
HAPPY!"


BELT: "Well, I'd hope you wouldn't need this stuff to
beat guys like Midnight Assassin, but one never knows.
The fact that he was even allowed into the
organization in the first place shows that not
everything's working on all cylinders around here.
But anyway, Choof, cheap subliminal imagery isn't my
only purpose here."


CHOOF: "You're here for my pie, too, aren't you?"


BELT: "No. I'm here to tell you a bit about myself.
You see, I've been around for a long time. I've been
through some good periods and some bad. Warren Hayes
was a good period. Robert D’Artois was a good period.
Johnny Detson can kiss my keister for dumping a
chance to win me and running off. Jerk. Anyway, Iron
was a bad period. Pretty disgraceful, really. He
never should have won me in the first place. Anyway,
Choof, my point is this: I'm fading again. I'm losing
prestige. The whole WWO is going down the tubes!
Have you seen this Midnight Assassin guy they let in?
And what’s the deal with this Behemoth guy? They’re
promoting him to the moon and he’s not even doing
anything! I’m vacant now, and I could wind up around
his waist! It's more than a belt can take! You've
got to win me, Choof! You may be a tub of goo, but at
least you’re... uh... present!"


CHOOF: "Oh, WWO Title, it pains me to see you on the
verge of such unhappiness! I will win you! I will
become the WWO Champion one day! You’ll have to be
patient, but I promise to make the effort! I’m going
to win this battle royale and make a name for myself!
I’ll establish myself as a true contender!"


BELT: "Thank you, Choof! That would indeed MAKE ME
HAPPY!"


CHOOF: "To hear you say that only shows how much we
belong together! OH HAPPY DAY!"


BELT: "Indeed. Now pinch yourself, wake up, go buy
an Incubus CD just to annoy the Midnight Assassin, and
then find out who's using the Dream-Cam on you!"


CHOOF: "I guess I should. And I'll be seeing you
again very shortly!"


[The Choof pinches himself. Sure enough, he awakens
on his couch, the Dream-Cam on his head. He promptly
removes it and looks around.]


CHOOF: "Now who snuck into my house and put the
Dream-Cam on my head?"


[What, you thought I was going to tell you NOW?
Where’s the dramatic tension in that?]


[Fade to yellow.]
texanspaniard Posted on Jan 26 2009, 01:17 PM
  WWO Rewind 05/09/01

============= [|) e - \\/\/ i [|\| d ============
`
>(( REWIND - THE CHOOF ))<
=================================================


[Calvin Chester, everyone's favorite pudgy reporter,
leans over the railing, hoping he's not about to see
his breakfast for the second time today.]


CALVIN: "Oh, why couldn't I have skipped breakfast
this morning? Why'd I come on this boat, anyway?"


[Aside from Calvin's face, which is growing
increasingly green, the scene is quite the picturesque
one from a color standpoint; the sun is rising on a
horizon, casting a lush orange hue on the calm, clear
blue water. Then the scene becomes… um… less
picturesque, shall we say, as the Choof emerges from
the cabin of the boat. The Choof has a propensity for
making scenes less picturesque, you see, as he is
INCREDIBLY fat, looking to be almost spherical.
Standing several inches below the six feet tall, he
still approaches the 300-pound mark, if that's any
indication of how fat he is. But that's not the
weirdest part of his appearance by a long shot. He is
completely naked, save a bright yellow speedo and a
strange, six-pronged yellow bonnet that makes his head
resemble a cartoonish sun. Seriously, that's all he's
wearing - no shirt, no boots, etc, and believe me, it
ain't pretty on a man of his considerable girth.
What's more, his entire body is painted bright yellow,
as if he took a bath in yellow paint. He has HUGE
buck teeth, like a beaver's almost, a tiny pig-like
nose, and his eyes are squinted as if from his own
sun-like radiance. And perhaps weirdest and creepiest
of all, he bears an ENORMOUS grin that doesn't ever
seem to diminish.]


[Anyway, the Choof waddles up behind Calvin, slapping
him on the back. He nearly retches over the rail.]


CHOOF: "Golly gee willikers and goody goody gumdrops,
aren't you glad you came fishing with me this morning,
Kevin?"


CALVIN: "No, I'm not. And it's Calvin, not Kevin."


CHOOF: "Oh, joy! Doesn't it make you happy that I
can't remember your name? I wouldn't want to be
remembered very closely either if I were a weak-gutted
slug who got seasick so easily!"


CALVIN: "Choof, why'd you want to go fishing?"


CHOOF: "Well, as you know, I'm famous for baking
pies. And I woke up today and realized that I rarely
put seafood in my recipes, so I figured we'd better
rent a boat and head out to sea! After all, great joy
can result from trying new things! Monotony can only
result in misery, which is why I usually avoid
watching the segments of the other wrestlers on the
roster, because frankly they're mostly just a bunch of
uninspired hacks yapping at the camera! But my
arrival in this organization will soon alleviate that
a bit, as I always make it my top priority to spread
happiness and joy and the joy that comes from
spreading happiness with the joy with which I happily
spread joy!"


[Calvin shakes his head, now _really_ ready to throw
up.]


CALVIN: "Uh, you really think seafood in a pie will
taste good? I doubt anyone will believe such a pie
would be a good culinary experience!"


CHOOF: "Calvin, people will think pretty much
anything. Hell, someone in the WWO front offices
apparently thought some guy named the Midnight
Assassin would be an entertaining, marketable
commodity despite his horrendously prosaic name--"


CALVIN: (interrupting) "And a penchant for rambling
that would put even Leviathan of the old CWC to
shame?"


CHOOF: (eyes darting from side to side) "Uh, yeah,
that's true, too."


[A strange silence befalls the proceedings for a
moment. *g*]


CHOOF: "Anyway, it's clear that I couldn't have
arrived here in the WWO at a better time. So many on
the roster are depressed or depressing or repressing
or caressing or various other things. Take this Ugly
American guy... or that 'San Malo' Michael Donovan.
What downers they are!"


CALVIN: "They would probably make a good
anti-American tag team, actually."


CHOOF: "But they shouldn't be spreading anti-American
rhetoric, for that doesn't make anyone happy! They
should be like me instead, spreading joy and happiness
and gobs of butter on pastries! America is the
happiest country in the world, and anyone who's here
should be grateful for it! Look at a guy like Lion
Tamer. In any other country in the world, he'd
probably be left to die in the streets with the rest
of the mental invalids! But here in America, society
looks after him and keeps him alive, no matter how
pointless doing so is! What a country! What a cause
for happiness!"


[The Choof hugs himself, overcome with joy. Then,
seemingly out of nowhere, much like a cartoon, he
pulls a fishing pole out from behind his back and
casts it into the water.]


CHOOF: "You know, Calvin, there's apparently a battle
royale coming up. Perhaps I'll have a chance to
spread my joy among all these sad faces!"


[With that, the Choof pulls out a huge swordfish! He
heaves it into the wall of the cabin with a thud.]


CHOOF: "Oh, joy! I don't know exactly how I'm going
to fit that into a pie, but nothing brings me more
happiness than a challenge! Which is why this
upcoming battle royale should be so much fun!"


CALVIN: "Because winning it will be a challenge?"


CHOOF: "No, because making it entertaining to watch
will be challenging! After all, let's face it, I'm
going to be the only thing worth watching; I'll be
carrying the whole thing. All the other guys are
trying to be depressing and brooding and menacing,
like Midnight Assassin and Ugly American and Michael
Donovan and all them. It's so BORING. So unoriginal,
so uninspired, so overdone! But the Choof is here to
save the day, never fear! The WWO has been a
stressful place lately, what with all the tournaments
and PPV's, and my pies and I are just what it needs to
rediscover happiness and joy!"


CALVIN: "What a... uh... noble goal."


CHOOF: "Indeed! And after I dispense of the other
rookies, then maybe some of the veterans will start
paying attention to me and my message of bliss and
ecstasy! And then I, too, can carve out a WWO legacy
that people can write about in Source articles for
years to come, and I'll finally understand the inside
jokes and be able to slip into a strange little world
of--"


[Calvin motions for the camera to stop rolling.]


[Fade to yellow.]
texanspaniard Posted on Jan 26 2009, 01:16 PM
  WWO Superstar Showcase 05/05/01

[The cameras cut to the backstage area, where we see the Choof waddling
down the hallway, grinning broadly as always. With him he carries a piping
hot, freshly-baked pie. He is INCREDIBLY fat, looking to be almost
spherical. Standing at less than six feet tall, he still approaches the
300-pound mark, if that's any indication of how fat he is. But that's not
the weirdest part of his appearance by a long shot. He is completely
naked, save a bright yellow speedo and a strange, six-pronged yellow bonnet
that makes his head resemble a cartoonish sun. Seriously, that's all he's
wearing - no shirt, no boots, etc, and believe me, it ain't pretty on a man
of his considerable girth. What's more, his entire body is painted bright
yellow, as if he took a bath in yellow paint. He has HUGE buck teeth, like
a beaver's almost, a tiny pig-like nose, and his eyes are squinted as if
from his own sun-like radiance. And perhaps weirdest and creepiest of all,
he bears an ENORMOUS grin that doesn't ever seem to diminish.]

[The Choof approaches a security guard, holding the pie out in front of
him.]

CHOOF: "Golly gee willikers and goody goody gumdrops, I brought this pie
for the Amazing Romanis! Are they here?"

GUARD: "Uh, no, I don't think so."

[The Choof almost looks dejected for a moment... well, relatively
dejected.]

CHOOF: "Oh, well. Should have checked the schedule, I guess. Well, no
reason to let this pie go to waste!"

[The Choof hands the pie to the confused guard.]

CHOOF: "Have a happy day! And don't worry about the pie causing you to
gain weight and become physically unfit and unable to do your job; we all
know that security guards are pretty much janitors with guns and
they don't actually possess any protection-providing skills, but that's
neither here nor there! Enjoy the pie!"

[The Choof starts to waddles off, leaving the security guard perplexed and
angry, though not sure what to do about it stops the big man.]

Guard: Er, sir...

[Choof turns himself around as the guard makes his way up to the rotund
man.]

Guard: I think you can leave it for them...

[The smile on Choof's face grows a bit wider, if that could even be
considered possible. And Choof makes his way into the dressing room of the
Romanis. As the door closes, a loud "CRASH" is heard from behind the door
and the guard suddenly turns his attention back to the room.]

[The guard pushes the door open, and tries to reach in and turn on the
light switch. However, no light results, and the guard is forced to put
his flashlight to use. The illumination of the flash light and the light
from the hall way reveals a huge array of marbles spread out on the floor.
However, that scene is immediately changed to that of the heavyset Choof
coming out of the room, with the smile still on his face, however, the
smile is coated with the remains of the "pie" which has apparently found a
target. Choof just grins as he walks past the security guard, who peers
into the locker room once again, with the flashlight as the scene fades
out.]
texanspaniard Posted on Jan 26 2009, 01:16 PM
  WWO Rewind 04/25/01

============= [|) e - \\/\/ i [|\| d ============
`
>(( REWIND - THE CHOOF ))<
=================================================


(We find ourselves in the middle of a crop field, with
Calvin Chester, the plump reporter extraordinaire,
pushing his way through the tall wheat stalks.)

CALVIN: "Why do I always get the crappy assignments?
Whomever heard of doing an interview in a crop field?
Hasn't the WWO ever heard of a studio? Do they not
_want_ this guy near their studios or something?"

(The portly Calvin emerges into a tiny clearing in the
wheat-field, finding a bizarre looking man sitting
down in some sort of meditative position. He is
completely naked, save two items of clothing: first,
he wears a bright yellow speedo. Second, he wears a
strange yellow bonnet with six triangular flaps
sticking of it, basically designed to make his head
look like a cartoonish sun. His body is extremely fat
and spherical, and is painted entirely bright yellow.
It looks like he took a swim in a vat of yellow
bodypaint, actually.)

(Even while meditating, this man, the
ever-growing-in-infamy Choof, has a huge grin on his
face. When he hears Calvin approach, he opens his
eyes slightly, a look of even _more_ joy crossing his
face. He has huge buck-teeth, a tiny pig-nose, and
eyes that never seem to open very widely, almost as if
he's squinting from his own sun-like radiance.)

CHOOF: "Golly gee willikers and goody goody gumdrops!
A visitor!"

(The Choof quickly hops to his feet, doing some sort
of goofy dance that basically consists of him just
hopping from one leg to the other.)

CALVIN: "Uh, yeah. I'm here to get your comments on
your arrival here in the WWO."

CHOOF: "Did you get that pie I sent you? (he
inspects Calvin's gut) It certainly looks like you
did! Didn't that pie smell delicious?"

CALVIN: "Well, actually, I never got a pie--"

(He stops as he sees the Choof pulls out a large bowl
with a spoon in it. It's filled with wheat stalks and
milk.)

CALVIN: "What the hell are you doing?"

CHOOF: "Eating cereal. Breakfast makes me HAPPY!"

CALVIN: "But it's 3 o'clock in the afternoon!"

CHOOF: "But unlike you, my life isn't a
highly-regimented constant drudgery where I have to
get up at 9 a.m. and have no life! I get to stay out
all night! Doesn't that MAKE YOU HAPPY?!?"

CALVIN: "Uh, not really."

CHOOF: (ignoring his answer, speaking in a goofy
voice) "Joy!"

CALVIN: "But I think the most important question here
is: why are you eating PURE WHEAT? That's not cereal!
You just ripped out the wheat stalks and poured milk
on them! That's disgusting!"

CHOOF: (wheat stalks hanging out from his mouth) "I
love little bugs! Bugs make me happy! I eat the
wheat so they won't, since the wheat is covered with
pesticides."

CALVIN: "So you eat pesticides to save INSECTS?"

CHOOF: "Sure! Insects won't be happy if they eat
pesticides!"

CALVIN: "But... but what happens to you? Don't
pesticides hurt you?"

CHOOF: "No... (whispering into Calvin's ear) I just
have to go to the bathroom a lot. But that just means
more fertilization for the land, right? And more
crops! More food! DOESN'T THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY?!?"

(Calvin nearly falls down, deafened by the Choof's
sudden outburst.)

CALVIN: "Choof, this is all well and good, but can I
PLEASE get your comments on your arrival here in the
WWO? Why have you returned to wrestling? We haven't
seen you since the closure of your old haunt, the
NCWA."

CHOOF: "Yep, I've moved up in the world, as the ol'
NCWA wasn't exactly the most high-profile gig. In
fact, that's probably why it closed down; we only had
about twenty fans, and they were all from North
Carolina, so their feeble brains have probably
forgotten me already. After all, when you live in a
backwater state like that with nothing to do but drink
and kill off your brain cells all day, it's not
exactly conducive to remembering things! But that
doesn't matter. I'm here to start a new career and a
new reputation in the WWO!"

CALVIN: "Uh... okay. But speaking of your
reputation, you've got a tough ladder to climb.
Weren't you last seen being beaten up by Vyolynce or
something?"

CHOOF: (confused) "I was?"

CALVIN: "You don't remember?"

CHOOF: "No, I don't. I guess if he did, he must have
hit me pretty hard on the head!"

CALVIN: "So you really don't remember?"

CHOOF: "Nope."

CALVIN: "So are you going to try to get revenge?"

CHOOF: (shrugging) "Revenge isn't a very happy
thing. I figure if I can't remember it, there's no
reason to be angry about it. Let bygones be bygones!
Besides, if he's not on the active roster anymore, I
can't really challenge him anyway. I don't remember,
none of the fans remember, and frankly no one cares
about my old exploits anyway. So let's not bore them
by recounting them, as that would make no one happy!
Let's move on with our lives, which are sure to be
filled with immeasurable joy now that I'm around! I'm
the Spirit of Happiness, you know, and who wouldn't
want someone bringing more happiness into the WWO? It
certainly needs it, what with all the sad excuses for
wrestlers milling around its ranks!"

CALVIN: "Er..."

CHOOF: "All this depressing stuff going around, like
Tyrone and Warren Hayes being separated at birth and
denied all those family reunions, Latex Lex's name
inspiring nightmarish images of Superman's nemesis
trapped in a body condom, Tigress chronicling every
detail of her life ad nauseam whether anyone wanted to
hear it or not, 'Money Driven' Mike Sebastian losing
all his trademark cash and being torn away from the
fed due to plagiarism lawsuits... it's all so... dark.
We need to bring more light into the WWO! In fact, I
plan to bring the greatest source of light there is
into this federation: the sun! I love the sun so
much, I will bring it to earth!"

(The Choof pulls out a gasoline container and a book
of matches from behind his back as if this were a
cartoon.)

CALVIN: "What the hell--"

CHOOF: "Come to us, sun!"

(The Choof throws a lit match into the gasoline
container and then quickly hurls the container into
the field. Within seconds, flames are spreading
throughout the rows of wheat!)

CHOOF: (basking in the glow of the flames) "Look how
sunny and nice it is now!"

CALVIN: "WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" (he quickly turns
around and runs away)

CHOOF: "Yes, but think of all the worms that will
have a good meal because of it! Now, doesn't death
MAKE YOU HAPPY?!?"

(The Choof stands there and twiddles his thumbs, a
euphoric [as in HAPPY, not just stunned like a certain
other wrestler's allegedly 'euphoric' look] look on
his face, watching as the towers of flame circle
around him.)

(Fade to yellow.)
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