Mark: *yells* Hurry up, the match is about to start.
Smark: I have to get a few things first.
*Smark enters the room holding a cardboard box full of items*
Mark: What the hell's in there?
Smark: I always have this stuff with me during Triple H matches.
Mark: *peers inside* Er... okay...
*Goldberg's music hits*
Mark: GOOOOOLDBERG! GOOOOOLDBERG! GOOOOOLDBERG!
Smark: *groans*
Mark: What? He's the BEST wrestler EVER.
Smark: *snorts* Whatever...
*Goldberg enters the ring, contorts his face a few times in front of the camera, and growls.*
Mark: I love it when he does that. He's so damn beastly.
Smark: He's an idiot.
*Triple H's music hits*
Smark: As much as Goldberg sucks, he's not as bad as this asshole.
Mark: Well, Triple H ain't that bad... his stuff is always good to wat-- what the HELL are you doing?
*Smark has retrieved a Triple H voodoo doll from the box; begins stabbing it repeatedly with pins.*
Smark: Die die die die die die die die die.
Mark: Whoa. You have problems, dude.
Smark: You don't understand how EVIL this guy is. He's banging the boss's daughter. The only reason he has his spot right now is because they're married. It's a bunch of crap. He's holding down younger talent.
Mark: Uh... they're married?
Smark: Yeah. In real-life, not on TV, dumbass.
Mark: Oh. Well, when did they start going out?
Smark: About early 2001.
Mark: But Triple H was already a main eventer back in late 1999, right?
Smark: ... Shut up... that doesn't matter. The point is, he's banging the boss's daughter. *tears arm off voodoo doll with his teeth*
Mark: Whatever, man. Let's watch the match.
*Goldberg and Triple H confront each other for a pre-match staredown. The camera does a close-up of Triple H. Smark pulls a foam brick from the box and launches it at the TV.*
Smark: BOO-YA. Got the bastard.
Mark: Stop acting like a damn 12 year-old.
Smark: *flies into senseless rage* WE'RE NOT TWELVE YEARS OLD. THAT'S JUST A LAME EXCUSE THAT WRESTLERS ALWAYS HIDE BEHIND WHEN THE NET BASHES THEM. IT HOLDS NO WATER AT ALL.
Mark: Easy, man. What the hell are you even talking about? Geez...
*Goldberg and Triple H begin going at it. Goldberg hits Triple H with a right hand. Followed by another right hand. Followed by another right hand. Followed by another right hand. Followed by another right hand. Followed by, of course, another right hand.*
Mark: WOOOOO. GOOOOOLDBERG!!!!! Look at him go, man. How can you NOT love this guy?
Smark: Oh for gods sake, the man has no talent. He does the same damn thing over and over.
Mark: Well it works. He always wins. Nobody you like ever won 183 straight matches!
Smark: Moron.
*Triple H ducks a Goldberg clothesline, kicks him in the stomach, and DDTs him.*
Smark: This sucks. You know Triple H is gonna win. He never loses to anybody.
Mark: But he lost to Goldberg already at two pay-per-views in a row.
Smark: Well that doesn't matter. He's always politicking backstage, holding younger guys back, won't let anybody else have the title. Locker room morale is super low because of this jerk.
Mark: You read this stuff on the internet? How does it get there?
Smark: Different reporters have different sites, they get news from their sources.
Mark: Who are the sources?
Smark: Er... well, nobody really knows. Of course they're not gonna tell us who it is, 'cause the sources could get fired if their identities were divulged and Vince found out.
Mark: So let me get this straight. Basically a reporter could call up one of the guys who puts up the ring, or the makeup lady or something, and get "news" from them? How do they know it's worth anything?
Smark:...
Mark: Or maybe some of the wrestlers just like to bitch and gripe about each other behind their backs, you never know. Maybe you should just stop taking this stuff so seriously and try to enjoy the-
Smark: *reading aloud from a book* ALAF RESHALANATH OPETHALANC CREXINOCKTOR METHULANIR!!!! *waves hands at the television*
Mark: Okaaaaay... you must be a complete lunatic, man.
Smark: I was casting a death spell on Triple H... something's gotta work. It is our duty as wrestling fans to rid the world of the plague that is Triple H. We also do on-line petitions against him, I've signed about fifty in the past two years. Ten times each, under different names.
Mark: Try just ENJOYING THE SHOW you dipshit.
Smark: Never, not until Chris Benoit is the perpetual world champion and Triple H is doing dark matches! I WON'T REST, DO YOU HEAR?!
*The tide of the match has turned. Goldberg hits Triple H with a spear.*
Mark: SPEAR! SPEAR! SPEAR! Oh my GOD that was great, he's gonna get the belt.... WHOA, ANOTHER SPEAR. He's DONE man, are you HAPPY NOW?
Smark: *miserable* No, they both suck... why don't they bring Kurt to Raw... *cries*
*The rest of Evolution dashes to the ring and attacks Goldberg, punching and stomping away. Triple H gets a chair from ringside, and begins taunting Goldberg.*
Mark: Damn...
Smark: *snickers* See, I told you, Triple H'll never lose that damn belt... so predictable... I mean, you can get on the internet and look up house shows for the month after the next PPV and basically spoil the entire PPV in advance. I do it all the time. I haven't been surprised in years.
Mark: You must not get much enjoyment out of this anymore...
*Triple H raises the chair to nail Goldberg; Shawn Michaels suddenly flies down the ramp, diverting Evolution's attention. Michaels hits the ring and fends off the rest of Evolution, leaving only himself and Triple H, whom he ends up superkicking. Triple H crumples to the canvas and lays still.*
Mark: Hell YEAH. HBK is the MAN.
Smark: You've gotta be nuts! HE SCREWED BRET!!!!!
Mark: That was like seven years ago, dude.
Smark: It doesn't matter. I have to live in the past and bitch about things that happened a long time ago. He might be entirely different now, but I'll never forgive him for screwing Bret. Bret was my Canadian hero. So there. *crosses arms*
Mark: He's one of the most exciting guys to watch on either show! You SERIOUSLY need to lighten up.
Smark: *mumbles to self* Goddamned Clique members hogging the spotlight...
Mark: *sings along* I THINK I'M CUTE. I KNOW I'M SEXY. I'VE GOT THE LOOKS. THAT DRIIIIVE THE GIRLS WILD-
Smark: *groans and rakes hand over face*
*Raw goes off the air. Mark goes to bed happy, while Smark gets online to type a long, invective-filled Triple H-bashing feedback to pwtorch.com, griping about how bad the show sucked and how obvious it was that Triple H wasn't losing that belt, and how if Triple H doesn't lose the belt at the next PPV, he's never watching again, ever. He stays up seething about this until about 3 AM or so, then finally goes to sleep.*