The Commish: Starring J.D. Kool

[The scene opens with Commissioner Dave Rodriguez sitting behind an oak desk. The Arizona state flag hangs limply behind him. Underneath the desk, something else is hanging limply. The commish, looking for cheap heat to get himself over, is wearing an Arizona Diamondback shirt. The camera zooms in and the Commish -- we call him that simply because it's too hard to keep typing out Commissioner-- lays some papers on the desk. That's the only things that's ever gotten laid on that desk. As a matter of fact, the papers are the only thing in that office that have EVER been laid. The Commish looks at the camera. He tries to speak, but his mouth isn't moving. Oh wait, he's just staring dumbly at the camera. Are we sure that's the Commish?

Wait a second! That's not the Commish. Though it IS hard to tell the difference because both guys look so damn dumb. No, the man at this desk is none other than occasional recurring character J.D. Kool. A man notorious for giving excruciatingly SHORT promos. It is Trey Vincent's mascot. Why? God knows. But Trey isn't seen. After all, why would Trey cut a useless promo against the Commish. Oh no, has J.D. been signed by MEW? No, he hasn't. His work makes Rain and Exile's look like Shakespeare. Er....The Rock's promos? Sure. Let's go with the second one. Is J.D. ready to speak yet? Let's see.]

Commish Kool: Many people wonder why I have bothered to waste everyone's time with a dumb promo. But let me assure you, since I am Commish Kool, I am your God. Did I mention I'm the Commish? Yes, everyone cower in fear, I am the M...M..EWS? Where do I work? Oh yeah, Main Event Wrestling. I signed a couple of matches between a couple of jobbers because I am the Commish and I have the God-like power to do such things. Why? Because I'm the Commish and I am your God. Worship me.

[J.D. opens up a drawer of his kool desk. He reaches inside and shuffles some things around. He pulls out magazines. Working Woman. Arizona Women's News. Women's Work. Women Today. Oprah. I make no judgments. You can all you want. At last he finds what he wants. He clears his throat and pulls out a bottle of water. He pulls up the nipple and sucks on his bottle. A pinky finger sticks straight up as he sucks. When he's done, he puts his water and his reading material back into the drawer.]

Commish: You'll have to forgive me. J.D. Kool has never talked this much. But since I am the Commish, thy Lord, thy God, I must speak. For my words are golden as urine! Why? Because I am the Commish. Dave Rodriguez. And Steve Studnuts. Let me tell you something mister! Why I oughta! (he says shaking a fist) C'mere a minute! (he says pointing at his desk). Stubborn aye? I'll fix you. At that main event? I'm going to ruin it by getting involved! That's right. I am God so I must be involved in every main event. After all, I'm the commishioner. Dig that! All right, I'll admit it. I want to wrestle you. I want to roll around on the ring with you for a few minutes. Is that so wrong to say? As for James Nethery? Well, consider him Lucifer and I just kicked his ass out of Heaven.

[He clears his throat again, as if he's got something stuck in there. Some sort of phlegm ball. Maybe a hair. Maybe a combo. He looks down at his notes since he can't improvise for shite and continues his rant.]

Commish: Now I'll antagonize Trey Vincent. Trey, you suck! You see, I'm gonna steal your attitude and pretend I have one of my own! It's mine now! It was yours, but now its mine. Why? Because I'm the Commish. The only head of mine that gets big is the one on my shoulders. The other one? Well, I have certain issues that I wouldn't embarrass myself by talking about.

[In the background, we hear a dog howl. As if, in pain.... Commish Kool looks around nervously with those up-to-no-good shifty eyes. He looks down at his notes.]

Commish: OK, I've now insulted both Steve and Trey, meaning, if they responded to my insults, someone will actually see it! I'm a heat magnet baby! I'm the Commish. I could go on and on about every other jobber in MEW, but why bother? Nobody watches their promos, and they have no fans. The MEW fans only watch the show to see Trey Vincent. And that Steve guy is pretty good, but not as good as Trey. Now, that is all I have to say to all you crappy wrestlers. Don't bitch with the Commish!

[With that said the camera fades to black.]

[Until...

We open backstage as the Koolest Commish of all time is, oddly enough, walking around the backstage area. He wouldn't dare walk about the frontstage area backstage. Hell no. He is on his cell phone and he is talking away to somebody, somewhere. Or maybe he's just pretending to talk to somebody, which is the more likely scenario. Your Lord, Thy God Commish Dave is, after all, a friendless, pathetic waste of flesh.]

Commish: I DON'T CARE!! I'm a bigger star then the wrestlers, the RATINGS ARE RIGGED! It's not about the wrestlers, it's about the BOOKER! Or the Koolest Commish ever! So go see who is rigging the ratings. I suggest you start with Eric Bischoff! He knows ALL about ratings rigging.... I know that was an ancient reference, but I, the Commish, am TIMELESS.

[Smiling he looks at the camera and speaks. Well, at least his mouth moves. I think by this point, either you have tuned him out, or he's lost his voice. J.D. has never talked THIS much in his life. Oh wait, the promo is saved! Trey Vincent has arrived. He walks into the scene and walks up to J.D. Now, J.D. is about 5-4. You may be wondering what J.D. is wearing. I sure hope not. But if you want to picture something, how about a little pink thong and a sleeveless white T-shirt with one of those knots in the middle, revealing his hairy, dark belly. He looks up at Trey Vincent. Commish Kool gasps and then starts pacing on the floor. He'd pace on the ceiling, but frigging gravity.]

Trey: I see you challenged Rain to a match. Well, there's just a slight problem with that Commish. This Sunday, Rain's sports entertaining me. And when I'm through giving him the lesson of a lifetime, there ain't gonna be nothing left for you, Dave.

Commish: I am the COMMISH. Respect my name! Don't take it in vain!

Trey: You are nothing without Trey Vincent. And the rest of my supporting cast and extras. Trey is the show. He's the Franchise Player. He's THE main event. And this Sunday, I'm gonna show everyone why that is. In the sports entertainment ring, I am king. Guys like Exile and Rain are fine for what they are, but it's ME the fans flock to for autographs. Sure, I blow them all off. What do you expect? I'm a star! You? What in the hell are you anyway?

Commish: The Commish! The Commish! The Commish! (He says jumping up and down and flailing his arms and fists. He repeats his whining for a few seconds.)

Trey: Shut up! Tell you what Dave, you want to insult my sports entertainment match against Auryn? I think I did pretty damn good considering I was both asleep AND drunk! But this Sunday I'll be sober. You want to come down and make it a four way, I'll pop that over inflated balloon you call a head and make you come back down to earth. Head first. Then I'll take out Exile. Then I'll take out Rain. And once again I will show the world why I am the Sports Entertainment Icon. I don't need to talk about how bad I'm going to beat everyone, because when I go to the ring, I prove it. You people haven't seen it yet, but when I'm on my game, nobody can play with me. And as far as Randy and Rob go.

Commish: My bitches? What you gonna say about my bitches?

Trey: They suck. That's all. Rob best watch his back. And his front. And his sides.

Commish: You're gonna kick my ass?

Trey: And you can't stop me.

Commish: Oh yeah? Well. (He puts his thumbs to his temples and wiggles all his fingers.) You suck! (He runs away. To somewhere else. I don't know where.)

Trey: Good riddance. Quit wasting our time.

[We're out, yo.]

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