THE ULTIMATE ANTI-HERO
Battles between various TV commercial & infomercial spokespeople, spokesanimals, spokethings, and the products themselves.

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ROUND ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN: THAT GODDAMN BISEXUAL MAXWELL (THE GEICO PIG) vs. THAT GODDAMN FAGGOTY GEICO GECKO

This "unwholly" battle shall take place on the set of the Geico insurance commercial. The set is equipped with the kind of things you might expect: boom microphones on long poles, large video cameras on wheeled dollies, portable carpeted walls on casters, thousands of watts of hot light bulbs, several storage lockers with numerous cans of green & white paint, a goddamn old beat-up Kirby upright vacuum cleaner, a standard broom & dustpan, several pushbrooms (one with a broken handle), two boxes of fluorescent light bulbs, and assorted & sundry stage props appropriate for a Geico Insurance ad.
The employee's can is outfitted with a Kohler K-4917-0 14-3/4" vitreous wall-mounted porcelain uranator with a Sloan spud valve, a black Kohler Rialto one-piece toliet, a Cormatic brand toliet paper dispenser with a very small amount of Scott brand toliet paper in it (the dispenser has the phrase, "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM!!!" written on it in very neat block letters with a black marking pen), a soured mop in a dirty plastic pale, a Toilaflex brand toliet plunger, and a severely dented metal swing-top wastepaperbasket.


The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

That goddamn faggoty Geico Gecko (yes, it's a little cocksucker) takes first blood here because he's so much faster than that goddamn bisexual uncooked bacon product (yeah, it likes meat AND fish, hahaha!) that answers to the name Maxwell. The Gecko's first move here is to climb up to the overhead lighting rack and start unscrewing those hot light bulbs with a rag that maintenence left up there. It starts lobbing those hot fuckers at Maxwell.

POW! {tinkle} POW! {tinkle} POW! {tinkle} go the bulbs as they impact the floor all around Maxwell -- but none of the burning hot bulbs hit their target.

Maxwell goes beast mode now...he goes right to the maintenence locker and gets that goddamn old beat-up Kirby upright vacuum cleaner, plugs that bitch in, fires it up, and tries like H-E-Double-Toothpicks to suck up that goddamn faggoty Geico Gecko! But the Gecko, being a small lizard for Satan sakes, easily dodges the vacuum cleaner of death.

Maxwell chases that goddamn faggoty Geico Gecko into the employee's head, where the Gecko uses a rather handily placed pair of dikes (the wirecutters, not the other kind!!!) to snip off the vacuum's cord, permanently neutralising the threat. That goddamn faggoty-ass Geico Gecko then stands on the cistern lid (toliet tank lid) and starts making these oinking noises. For some reason, this sound attracts Maxwell like flies to a pile of shit! As soon as that goddamn bisexual uncooked bacon product leans into the bowl to find the source of that oinking noise, that goddamn faggoty-ass Geico Gecko viciously slams the toliet seat down onto Maxwell's head and causes it to lose conciousness!

Victory sweet vict...O WAIT!!! The Gecko slips off the cistern lid and falls headfirst into the bowl!!! It gets caught between the side of the bowl and Maxwell's near-lifeless body, and rather quickly perishes!!!

They both pass micturition (urine) and defecation (feces) as they die, and rather rapidly become worm food as they drown in that icy cold toliet water.

THE WINNER ROUND ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!




ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY: THOSE GODDAMN BISEXUAL GEICO CAVEMEN vs. THAT GODDAMN FAGGOTY GEICO GECKO (THE CHEESESTEAK INCARNATION)

This "unwholly" battle shall take place on the set of the Geico insurance commercial. The set is equipped with the kind of things you might expect: boom microphones on long poles, large video cameras on wheeled dollies, portable carpeted walls on casters, thousands of watts of hot light bulbs, several storage lockers with numerous cans of green & white paint, a goddamn old beat-up Kirby upright vacuum cleaner, a standard broom & dustpan, several pushbrooms (one with a broken handle), two boxes of fluorescent light bulbs, and assorted & sundry stage props appropriate for a Geico Insurance ad.
The employee's can is outfitted with a Kohler K-4917-0 14-3/4" vitreous wall-mounted porcelain uranator with a Sloan spud valve, a black Kohler Rialto one-piece toliet, a Cormatic brand toliet paper dispenser with a very small amount of Scott brand toliet paper in it (the dispenser has the phrase, "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM!!!" written on it in very neat block letters with a black marking pen), a soured mop in a dirty plastic pale, a Toilaflex brand toliet plunger, and a severely dented metal swing-top wastepaperbasket.

Outside the building, there is a 'bistro' stage set with these little square metal tables and high-backed metal-frame chairs.

The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

That goddamn faggoty 'Cheesesteak Shuffle' Geico Gecko (yes, it's a little cocksucker) takes first blood here because he's so much faster than those goddamn bisexual Geico Cavemen (yeah, they like meat AND fish, hahaha!). The Gecko's first move here is to climb up to the overhead lighting rack and start unscrewing those hot light bulbs with a rag that maintenence left up there. It starts lobbing those hot fuckers at the Cavemen.

POW! {tinkle} POW! {tinkle} POW! {tinkle} go the bulbs as they impact the floor all around the Cavemen -- but none of the burning hot bulbs hit any of their targets.

The Cavemen go beast mode on the Gecko now...while that goddamn faggoty 'Cheesesteak Shuffle' Geico Gecko is on one of the bistro tables doing the Cheesesteak Shuffle, the Cavemen get all pissed at the Gecko's horrible "singing", their , and after they run inside to fashion some aural tampons to stem the tide of bright red blood gushing from their ears from some Bounty® paper towels, they all dash back outside and quickly flip the table over and start stomping on it.

The Gecko, being a small lizard for Satan sakes, dodges the death table by just a few centimeters, and runs inside the Geico building to think up a strategy for defeating this rogue group of stinky Neanderthals.

But before the Gecko has time to blink (let alone think), the Cavemen confront and soon corner it in the employee's can, wring it neck, and throw the body into the toilet!

The Gecko passes micturition (urine) and defecation (feces) as it dies, and rather rapidly becomes worm food.

THE WINNER ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY: THOSE GODDAMN BISEXUAL GEICO CAVEMEN!!!




ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY ONE: THAT GODDAMN BISEXUAL PROGRESSIVE TALKING BOX vs. THAT GODDAMN FAGGOTY GEICO GECKO

This battle shall take place in the kitchen (and a bit later, move to the driveway) of a pet-owning household. The kitchen is equipped with a double-bowl sink & garbage disposal, douchewasher, refrigerator, range, microwave, and numerous small TV infomercial appliances. Under the sink, there are several containers of Raid™ in aerosol bombs, a flyswatter, 47 cans of Alpo® brand dog food, and two bags of Purina® Cat Chow™ for the family cat -- which is probably uranating in its owner's underwear drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his Fruit of the Loom briefs always have yellow stains and smell like cat urine, but has yet to put 2 and 2 together). The kitchen has a moderate infestation of Stag Beetle grubs (larvae), piss ants, cockroaches, and rats; and the home in general has a light infestation of crickets, carpet beetles, click beetles, termites, grasshopper nymphs, and silverfish.

The driveway has a 1977 Pontiac Grand Prix sporting a dull baby shit brown paint finish and with a very faulty parking brake parked in it.

The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

That goddamn faggoty Geico Gecko takes first blood here, simply because he's on the scene first. He waits by the back door behind the damn unchanged catbox until that sodding Progressive talking box comes in the door. The Gecko springs out from behind its stinky hiding place, and tries to box the box's ears...but nothing happens.

And do you know WHY nothing happened, you little green peckerhead?
It's because the Progressive Insurance talking box is a box for Satan sakes, and cardboard boxes do not have ears!!!

That goddam bisexual Progressive Talking Box (yeah, it likes meat AND fish, hahaha!) goes on the offensive next...it rather handily swats that goddamn faggoty Geico Gecko into the damn unchanged plastic cat toliet, which causes the little green dickhead to rather loudly exclaim (in that phoney-bologna fake British accent), "PISS YOU!!! THIS REALLY FUCKING REEKS!!!"
The Gecko rapidly skitters to the bathroom, jumps into the shitbowl, and does a few laps in the toliet water before scampering back out.

Since the Gecko is now headed out the door and into the driveway, that goddam bisexual Progressive Talking Box goes out via the kitchen window, climbs the downspout to the roof, parks its lardass above the driveway, and waits for that goddamn queer Geico Gecko...it waits...and waits a bit more...finally, it sees the Gecko coming within range. It shouts, "CANNONBOX!!!" and begins its earthward plummet, hoping to squish the Gecko like a cockroach being stepped on...It continues its drop, whistling like a timey old bomb..and ***SPLAT!!!***
Got that fucker!!!
And the winner i...O wait!!! The parking brake on that beater car fails, and the box is rather quickly crushed under the wheels of that street machine of steel!!!

They both pass micturition (potty) and defecation (crapola) as they die, and rather rapidly become worm food.

THE WINNER ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY ONE: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!




ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY TWO: THAT GODDAMN BISEXUAL PROGRESSIVE TALKING BOX and THAT SODDING LIPSTICK LESBIAN (OVER)FLO vs. THAT GODDAMN FAGGOTY GEICO GECKO and THAT STUPID PIG MAXWELL

This unprecedented four-way death match shall take place on the set of the Progressive insurance commercial. The set is equipped with the kind of things you might expect: boom microphones on long poles, large video cameras on wheeled dollies, portable carpeted walls on casters, thousands of watts of hot light bulbs, a utility closet with numerous cans of white paint, and assorted & sundry stage props appropriate for a Progressive Insurance ad. Also present is that roller skating disco prick with the ghetto blaster on his shoulder. The employee's bathroom is outfitted with a Kohler K-4917-0 14-3/4" vitreous wall-mounted porcelain uranator with a Sloan spud valve, a black Kohler Rialto one-piece toliet, a Cormatic brand toliet paper dispenser with Scott brand toliet paper in it (the dispenser has the phrase, "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM" very neatly written on it with black magic marker), an extremely stinky soured string mop in a filthy plastic pale (with fucking gross dark brownish-grey mop water still in it), and a metal swing-top wastepaperbasket.

Additionally, the parking lot has a number of automobiles parked in it, including a teal 1997 Dodge Grand Caravan, a urine-yellow Dodge Ram pickup truck (year not known), an orange 2014 Toyota Camry, and a 1971 Ford Pinto sporting a dull baby shit brown paint finish.

The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

That stupid pig Maxwell gets off to a rip-roaring start here because he's the first to enter the death cage...he is quickly joined by that goddamn faggoty Geico Gecko (yes, it's a little cocksucker)...Maxwell emits some loud oinking noises and almost immediately devours the Gecko, leaving only its broken tail on the floor. The tail writhes and twitches; and Maxwell (being a pig for Christ sakes) almost immediately gobbles that up too!
And all this time I thought that oinkers were herbivores...who knew that Maxwell was an omnivore?!?

That sodding lipstick lezzy Flo then runs over because she heard Maxwell raising a stink; she grabs a boom mic's "boom" on the way over there to clobber that stupid pig Maxwell; but Maxwell rather loudly exclaims, "WHEEEEEEE!!!!!" as he scampers to safety in the employee's loo!

That sodding Progressive talking box follows Maxwell into the bathroom, and before it can react, Maxwell drowns it in the toliet! The box soon becomes soggy, gets swollen and distended, and rather rapidly eats it!!!

Two down, two to go!

Flo chases Maxwell around the set with the boom mic's boom, fully intent on ripping its bunghole off...er...um...I mean, "FULLY INTENT ON MURDERING IT!!!"
The chase culminates in the parking lot, while somebody is climbing into & starting that beater old Ford Pinto. When Flo and Maxwell are behind the car, the gas tank mysteriously explodes into a huge ball of orange flame, barbecuing them both on the spot!!!

These remaining two contestants pass micturition (wee-wee) and defecation (poo-poo) as they die, and rather rapidly become fish food (ashes).

THE WINNER ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY TWO: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!
(with a little help from a beater car that should have been recalled but was not)



ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY THREE: THAT GODDAMN SODDING PHONEY-BOLOGNA FAKE HONEY NUT CHEERIOS® BEE vs. GRUMPY CAT

This battle shall take place in the kitchen of a pet-owning household. The kitchen is equipped with a double-bowl sink & garbage disposal, douchewasher, refrigerator, range, microwave, and numerous small TV infomercial appliances. Under the sink, there are several containers of Raid™ in aerosol bombs, 47 cans of Alpo® brand dog food, and two bags of Purina® Cat Chow™ for Grumpy Cat -- which is probably piddling in its owner's T-shirt drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his V-neck T-shirts always smell like cat urine, but has yet to put 2 and 2 together). The kitchen has a moderate infestation of Stag Beetle grubs (larvae), piss ants, cockroaches, and rats; and the home in general has a light infestation of crickets, carpet beetles, click beetles, termites, grasshopper nymphs, and silverfish. The driveway has a 1976 Pontiac Grand Prix sporting a dull baby shit brown paint finish parked in it.

The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

The Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee gets off to a rip-roaring start here because it's already out of its box while the Grumpy Cat is still upstairs shitting in its owner's sock drawer because the asshaberdasher never cleans out its litter box!

When Grumpy Cat finishes it's "beeswax" and slowly makes its way downstairs and into the kitchen to fill up on some yummy Purina® Cat Chow™, that stupid sodding fake CGI Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee hovers directly overhead, fully intent on ripping its bunghole off...er...uh...I mean, "fully intent on depositing its sting & venom sac directly between Grumpy Cat's shoulder blades"...the Bee rapidly flies toward Grumpy Cat, turns its ass toward it at the last moment, and bounces harmlessly off the Grumpy Cat's back with no poisonous sting & venom sac deposited.

And do you know WHY no toxic sting & venom sac was stuck in Grumpy Cat's back you little CGI piece of shit crapweasel?
It's because you're a drone (male), and drones possess no sting for Satan sakes

Grumpy Cat goes on the rag...er...uh...I mean GOES ON THE ATTACK next...it sees that gosh darn-diddly-arn Bee buzzing around in the kitchen, swats at it several times, and nocks the stupid insect into its water dish...then it does what any cat would do if it saw a bug squirming around in its water -- it gobbles it up!!!

That stupid sodding fake CGI Honey Nut Cheerios® Bee passes micturition (wee-wee) and defecation (poo-poo) as it dies in the Grumpy Cat's tummy, and becomes a fudge bunny within a couple of days!!!

THE WINNER ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY THREE: GRUMPY CAT




ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY FOUR: THAT GODDAMN SODDING LIPSTICK LESBIAN (OVER)FLO VS. THAT DUMB STUPID GEICO GECKO

This match shall take place on the set of the Progressive insurance commercial. The set is equipped with the kind of things you might expect: boom microphones on long poles, large video cameras on wheeled dollies, portable carpeted walls on casters, thousands of watts of hot light bulbs, a utility closet with numerous cans of white paint, and assorted & sundry stage props appropriate for a Progressive Insurance ad. Also present is that roller skating disco prick with the ghetto blaster on his shoulder. The employee's bathroom is outfitted with a Kohler K-4917-0 14-3/4" vitreous wall-mounted porcelain uranator with a Sloan spud valve, a black Kohler Rialto one-piece toliet, a Cormatic brand toliet paper dispenser with Scott brand toliet paper in it (the dispenser has the phrase, "DO NOT EXCEED 3,250RPM" very neatly written on it with black magic marker), an extremely stinky soured string mop in a filthy plastic pale (with fucking gross dark brownish-grey mop water still in it), and a metal swing-top wastepaperbasket.

Additionally, the parking lot has a number of automobiles parked in it, including a dark maroon 1999 Dodge Grand Caravan, a piss-yellow 1992 Ford F-150 pickup truck mising its rear bumper, a urine-yellow 2014 Kia Soul, and a 19701 Ford Maveric sporting a dull baby poop brown paint finish.

The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

That goddamn sodding lipstick lezzy (Over)Flo takes first blood here because she's on home soil.
She starts off by chasing the stupid dumb Geico Gecko into the office and tries to cram a ream of typewriter paper down its choaking throat. This tactic fails miserably however because she used too much fucking paper and the pile of paper was far too large to fit in the damn lizard's mouth!

That sodding Geico Gecko escapes the office and climbs the lighting rack. Once that lipstick lesbian is almost directly underneath, the gecko starts unscrewing those hot light bulbs with a rag that maintenence left up there. It then starts lobbing those hot fuckers at Flo.

POW! {tinkle} POW! {tinkle} POW! {tinkle} go the hot bulbs as they impact the floor all around Flo. Most of them miss their mark, but one of them does blow up in her neatly-coiffed hair!
A series of choise toliet words issues from Flo's mouth as she starts plucking shards of hot glass out of her hair and throwing them willy-nilly. Who knew that Flo could curse like a saylor?

Now Flo is seriously piddled-off; she runs over to Camera D, grabs a pail of metallic sodium pellets and starts lobbing those fuckers at the Gecko. WHIZ! {CLANK!} WHIZ! {CLANK!} WHIZ! {CLANK!} go the sodium pellets as most of them whiz by the sodding little green peckerhead. But wait! One of those last ones went right in the Gecko's mouth! As most of us know from high school chemistry, sodium and water (from the saliva in the Gecko's mouth) seldom play well together!

The Gecko bursts into flame and falls right on Flo's head! She used so much goddamn hairspray that morning that her head catches fire!!!

They both pass micturition (wee-wee) and defecation (poo-poo) as they die, and rather rapidly become fish food (ashes).

THE WINNER ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY FOUR: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!




ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY FIVE: THAT GODDAMN SODDING HAMBURGER HELPER HAND VS. A PAIR OF PLAYTEX® LIVING® GLOVES

This battle shall take place in the kitchen of a pet-owning household. The kitchen is equipped with a double-bowl sink & garbage disposal, douchewasher, refrigerator, range, microwave, and numerous small TV infomercial appliances. Under the sink, there are several containers of Raid™ in aerosol bombs, 47 cans of Alpo® brand dog food, and two bags of Purina® Cat Chow™ for the family cat -- which is probably going poddy in its owner's sock drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his argyle socks always smell like cat urine, but has yet to put 2 and 2 together). The kitchen has a moderate infestation of Stag Beetle grubs (larvae), piss ants, cockroaches, and rats; and the home in general has a light infestation of crickets, carpet beetles, click beetles, termites, grasshopper nymphs, and silverfish. The driveway has a 1976 Pontiac Grand Prix sporting a dull baby poop brown paint finish parked in it.

The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

The Playex® Living® Gloves get off to a rip-roaring start here because that Hamburger Helper Hand is still trying to punch its way out of the box of Hamburger Helper that it's already been entombed in for the last seven months.

The Playex® Living® Gloves wait patiently on the edge of the counter directly below the cupboard housing the stale-ass Hamburger Helper. They don't have to wait long, because the Hand bursts out of the cupboard already wielding a shiny steel cheese grater!!! This just can't be good for the Playex® Living® Gloves -- they'll soon become Playex® Dying® Gloves if they don't think of something -- and I mean FAST!!!

The threatened Playex® Living® Gloves quickly slither on over to the radio, and turn it to maximum volume. The Blaze 105.1 is where the radio is tuned, and it's just a couple of minutes past 6:00pm, so they're in the middle of their Mandatory Metallica set; and wouldn't you know it, "The Four Horsemen" is blasting out of the speakers and directly at the Hand.

But nothing happens.
And do you know WHY nothing happens you pussywhipped pieces of shit Playex® Living® Gloves?
It's because the Hamburger Helper Hand is a HAND, and hands do not have ears for Satan sakes!!!

The Hand quickly thinks of something...it gets a bottle of Liquid Paper and a black Sharpie marking pen out of the junk drawer, and uses them to covertly replace the word HAMBURGER with the word GLOVE on the box of Hamburger Helper.

It then preheats the oven to 775°F (412.8°C) in preparation for the gloves' iminent immolation.

The Playex® Living® Gloves are in electrified shock when they see that the Hamburger Helper Hand is pouring Glove Helper into a large plastic bowl. The gloves slither over to the knife drawer and pull out a gleaming stainless steel cleaver. They wrestle the heavy knife over to the Hand, and try to whack its pee-pee...er...uh...CHOP THE SODDING THING'S NOSE OFF!!!
Success!!! The Hand gets some paper towels, wads those bitches up, and then stuffs them into its face to try and stem the tide of bright blue blood gushing out from the very short stub of (what's left of) its nose. However the towels are insufficient and the Hand soon bleeds out.

The Playex® Living® Gloves finish making the Glove Helper, add the body of the Hand, and pop that thicc bih into the oven where the Hand finishes dying -- contaminating the food with piss & shit that automatically came out of the Hand as it perished.

THE WINNER ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY FIVE: THE PLAYTEX® LIVING® GLOVES




ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY SIX: THAT GODDAMN SODDING HAMBURGER HELPER HAND VS. THAT FAGGOTY HONEY NUT CHEERIOS BEE

This battle shall once again take place in the kitchen of a pet-owning household. The kitchen is equipped with a double-bowl sink & garbage disposal, douchewasher, refrigerator, range, microwave, and numerous small TV infomercial appliances. Under the sink, there are several containers of Raid™ in aerosol bombs, 47 cans of Alpo® brand dog food, and two bags of Purina® Cat Chow™ for the family cat -- which is probably going poddy in its owner's T-shirt drawer...AGAIN!!!...(the owner wonders why his V-neck tees are yellow and always smell like cat urine, but has yet to put 2 and 2 together). The kitchen has a moderate infestation of Stag Beetle grubs (larvae), piss ants, cockroaches, and rats; and the home in general has a light infestation of crickets, carpet beetles, click beetles, termites, grasshopper nymphs, and silverfish. The driveway has a 1977 Pontiac LeMans sporting a dull baby poop brown paint finish parked in it.

The contestants do not necessarily have to ***USE*** everything here, but they are at their disposal if needed -- or if desired.

Apprently out of nowhere, this huge dorkey-looking microphone that looks 60 or 70 years old dangling from a wire connected to the ceiling materialises out of thin air, and Michael Buffer suddenly appears in the same manner, grabs the mic, and shouts, "LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLLLLLLLLLLLLE!!!!" into it; the mic and Buffer then summarily (and unexpectedly) vanish shortly thereafter.

The Cheerios bee gets off to a rip-roaring start here because that sodding Hamburger Helper hand is still attempting to break out of its box of Hamburger Helper. So it fishes out this big-ass meat cleaver from the knife drawer and lies in wait for that damn disembodied hand. The Hand emerges from the cupboard ACROSS the one that the bee was waiting at.

The Hand wastes no time here; it gets a mixing bowl, a box of Hamburger Helper, a bottle of Liquid Paper™, and a black magic marker. The Honey Nut Cheerios bee is horrified when he sees the hand brushing the Liquid Paper™ over the word, "HAMBURGER" and writing the word, "BEE" in its place! This just can't be good news for that six-legged buzzing little prick!

The Cheerios Bee flies to the silverware drawer and fishes out a serrated steak knife, then flies back over to the Hand and tries to plunge the glistening steel blade into its back. The Bee stabs the Hand over and over, but it's just too small and whimpy to do any significant damage with the blade.

The Hand continues mixing up the bowl of Bee Helper; it pauses only briefly to preheat the oven to 1,230.8°F (666°C) in anticipation of the Bee's iminent imolation. Then it returns to the bowl and starts stirring that shit some more.

The Cheerios Bee then flies around to the back of the oven and unscrews the gas coupling. This causes the gas to escape from the hose with a loud hissing sound. The kitchen then fills rather rapidly with gas -- though the Hand doesn't notice the smell because it's got a stuffed-up nose.

The Cheerios Bee starts to fly out of the kitchen, but ***BOOM!!!*** goes the gas!!!
The kitchen becomes a huge fireball, causing the Hand and the Bee to be almost instantly converted to fish food (ashes).
Neither of our embattled contentants had time to pass micturition (pee-pee) or defecation (poo-poo) as they croaked!

THE WINNER ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY SIX: MUTUAL ANNIHILATION!!!


ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY SEVEN: THE LUVS BABY VS. THAT FAGGOTY GEICO GECKO

This event shall take place in the living room, bathroom, and (toward the end) the wash room in the home of a standard middle-class household. The couple is gone, but the baby is using a Luvs brand disposable plastic baby toliet (diaper). The living room is equipped with the usual: a couch, two chairs, two end tables, a coffee table, a 32" screen CRT-type TV set, two table lamps, and one floor lamp. The baby has many of his toys scattered around the floor. The bathroom is equipped with a urilet (a urinal-like fixture that you can also drop a deuce into), a standard vanity & lavatory, and a Premier walk-in bathtub. The wash room is equipped with what you'd expect: there is a top load washing machine and a front load dryer in it.

The Luvs baby takes first offense here; throwing a set of brightly colored plastic "A-B-C" blocks at that sodding Geico gecko as the dimumiutive little lizard is exiting the wash room. He misses (well, what did you expect? He's a BABY!!!) and the gecko runs to the baby and pours liquid Snuggle down his back, soaking into his Luvs diaper, causing it to become swollen & distended - and soon exploding off the baby and flying into the dryer - exposing the baby's urinator (tallywhacker) and his still-smooth toliet muscle (ass).

The baby has to go #1, so he grabs his little pecker and shoots a stream of hot, corrosive baby piss right at the Geico gecko!!! SPLAAAAAAATTTT!!!!! The steaming acidic liquid gets the lizard right between the eyes - and then gets *INTO* one of the gecko's eyes as he turns to avoid the urine stream!!! ***OUCH!!!***

The gecko stumbles into the bathroom and goes right for the urilet. The little lizard jumps into the fixture to douche out his stinging eyes, only to find that some butt wagon took a plop in it and forgot to flush. The little lizard thrashes about in the bowl for a moment before it realises that it can't swim and can't reach the rim, and rather quickly perishes in the poo water!

THE WINNER ROUND ONE HUNDRED TWENTY SEVEN: THE LUVS BABY!!!



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