If The World Doesn't Implode, It's At Least Gonna Be Incoherent

Pressure Point 76
Sept. 22, 2003
Starring: Trey Vincent & some jobber from BOB
Writer: Leary

"Are You Happy Now?" by Michelle Branch hit the speakers, and the arena became bathed in green lighting. Yes, it was time for Trey Vincent to make his first appearance of the night.

"Hold on, hold on, keep the music going for my love, Michelle Branch, the future Michelle Vincent, but turn the lights up," Vincent commanded as he stepped out from the back. On TV's shirt was the image of a tombstone. On it, were the names of two past federations. SWL and jOlt. On the back of his shirt (we'd soon see) were the words "Good times, eh Joey?" were written.

But before we got to see that, Vincent pulled out a pair of binoculars and looked towards the spot where Joey Malone had been seated. Seeing things were all clear, Vincent sighed in relief and dropped the binoculars so he could head down to the ring. Now, you can read the back of his shirt.

Once TV hit the ring, he pulled a microphone from his waistline and signaled for the quieter music to be cut off all together. Vincent stood center ring and smiled, getting some boos from the crowd.

"Hello, dear viewers. Once again, I, Trey Vincent, have given your meaning some life. Given your girlfriends a reason to go to the bathroom for 20 minutes to 'shave their legs.' Sure, that's an electric razor...Anyhow, Sports Entertainment Icon with you tonight. Just because I care.

"Now, for the last two weeks, I've been having this sort of feud thing going on with Kurt Angel. This Special Olympics hero is almost starting to get on my nerves a little. I mean, hell, last week, he interrupts me when I'm trying to hit on a chick? What's up with that? Now, this is PERSONAL!"

Vincent got booed for his shallowness. And stupidity. Yeah, that too. Reed Young must be wearing off on him.

"Tonight, I guarantee that I will pick up that chick, and I'll use any pick-up line or lie that I can to make sure she falls for it. Angel, you can't stop me. Just remember that. Now--"

That's when Vincent was cut off. Not by any music that could be deciphered by anybody, mind you, but by something sort of resembling music. And out he stepped. If you didn't flip away or skim through last week's show, you'd know that this fellow showed up then. He had blue hair, wore a wifebeater and jeans and boots. There was an anarchy symbol (the messy A with a circle around it) spray pained on his wife beater in red. Vincent's eyes were wide in shock. His jaw dropped. He couldn't believe it.

"You've got to be cow shitting me," Vincent said as the man fans of Action knew nothing of slid under the bottom rope and went to center ring, throwing his arms wide out to his side, ala Tommy Dreamer. Vincent put a hand over his mouth, reviled by a nasty stench that came from the man's underarms.

And he had his own microphone. Lord help you all.

"so we meat agen mr vncnt" the stranger said.

"WHAT?" the crowd responded.

"Kurt Angel first. Then I see my old buddy J.D. Kool, slash Sleazy-C, is pretending to be some half-black, half-white person with Angel. Which, well, granted he is, but. But he has a new name and isn't my lackey any more! And now YOU?" Vincent said, his voice full of shock. "XXXtreme Machine? Big SeXXXy? The biggest jobber on God's green earth? What are you doing here?"

"i dont no btu m gonna lik ur ass"

"WHAT?" asked the crowd. They really just couldn't understand him.

"You're gonna do WHAT to my ass? Dude. How did you get here? Why are all you BOB idiots coming into Action all of a sudden? Are we starting a jobber division or something?"

"fuk u try im hrdkor"

"WHAT?"

"How am I supposed to impress Michelle Branch when it's obvious I'm being drawn into an incredibly stupid parody angle?" Trey asked aloud, before beginning to pace back and forth. "Good lord. Studs said that bad things would happen if I went to BOB, but I didn't think you retards would follow me here. This makes no damn sense! I want an explanation for this stupidity, damnit!"

XXXtreme Machine had a response. "al i rember waw brite ligt n than i was hear i dink i waz telpoorted ro sun shti"

"WHAT?"

"Teleported? Huh? Hmm. That would explain why I would suddenly found myself at those stupid BOB events without ever wanting to actually *be* there."

"mae b ist teh powwors 2 b"

"The Powers To Be? I knew Angel was behind this! Well, fine. I think we should settle this. Right now in a sports entertainment match," Vincent decided, challenging XXXtreme Machine to a, well, match.

And then punching him in the face, knocking him flat on his back.

NEXT CHAPTER: Trey Vincent vs. XXXtreme Machine >>