Soup Portion of the SWF Cook-Off

[Guest Angel_Grace_Blue]

IGN..uh SWF Cook-Off V2!

 

The SWF logo fades out and is replaced with an image of NTD standing in front of many rows of tables, with many SWF superstars with pots (Not those kind of pots, Stubby) and vats of various sizes, presumably filled with tasty food.

 

NTD: Hello fans. With Genesis III looming, I’m back again to bring to you the SWF Cook-Off, version two! With the extra funding from uh…something, we’ve been able to expand the original soup cook-off to a multi-course event. First though, we’ll be, and by we, I mean I, tasting soups!

 

NTD walks towards the first entrant, Xero.

 

NTD: Hey, Xero, no leaguers allowed. You have to leave.

 

Xero: Uh, I’m not a leaguer, I got bumped.

 

NTD: You did? Damn…uh, anyway, what have you made?

 

Xero: I have an old family recipe, Spaghetti Xeros!

 

NTD, although doubtful, grabs a spoon, dips the spoon in the pot, and has some trouble removing it from the sticky broth. He swallows and makes a contorted face.

 

NTD: Xero, this is just Spaghetti Os and maple syrup. Not only is it disgusting, but since you used a commercially prepared food, you are disqualified from the soup portion.

 

Xero gathers his items and begins walking away.

 

NTD: Damn Canadians. Wait, I’m Canadian. Uh…damn Hungarian Canadians…yeah…I hate them.

 

NTD moves on to the next contestant, The Boston Strangler.

 

NTD: Boston Strangler, I never expected you to be in this contest. What have you made for us?

 

TBS: I made some delicious New England clam chowder.

 

NTD grabs a spoon, dips it in the chowder, and swallows.

 

NTD: Hey, that’s pretty darn good!

 

NTD moves on to the next contestant, former contestant, Perfect Bo!

 

NTD: Perfect Bo, back again! You’re not making your Bronx broth, though, are you? I mean, I almost died…

 

Bo: Naw, I’m making some New York-style clam chowder, bitch.

 

At the mention of New York-style clam chowder, TBS’ head snaps to look at Bo. As NTD dips his spoon into Bo’s chowder and swallows, TBS reaches for his ladle.

 

NTD: Hey, that’s pretty good. (At this time, TBS has raised his ladle above his head.)

 

TBS (To Bo): YOU WHORE!!

 

TBS rushes the Perfect one, braining Bo with his ladle. Bo manages to comeback, tossing hot chowder in TBS’ eyes, blinding him. The two begin throwing punches and moving at the same time, eventually going backstage.

 

NTD: Uh, I think I’ll go to the next entry…

 

NTD does in fact move to the next entry, who happens to be Chris Wilson.

 

NTD: Hey, it’s Chris Wilson. What have you made for the competition?

 

Wilson: I’ve made crab soup. (Wilson quietly laughs manically.)

 

The pant-less one dips his spoon into the soup to reveal broth, some vegetables, but nothing that resembles crabmeat.

 

NTD: Wilson, did you forget the crabs?

 

Wilson: Of course not. It’s not seafood crabs, but the itch mite, or sexually transmittable crabs! And with this remote control, I’ll blow up the soup pot, showering every single person here, except myself, with crabs!!! You want to know why?

 

NTD: Why?

 

Wilson: Because I’m eeeevil!!!!!

 

Wilson presses the only button a small remote control, but nothing happens. Well, not exactly nothing, as in Albany, New York, and Mister Wally Pip’s garage door explodes.

 

Wilson: Damn. I think I grabbed the wrong remote control or something…

 

NTD: Well, I’m not eating this, and I laugh at your incompetence.

 

NTD walks down to the next entrant, Outcast.

 

NTD: Outcast? You’re in this competition? Well, what did you make?

 

OC: I have prepared a wonderful “Get Off My Lawn” gumbo.

 

Señor No-Pants grabs a spoon, dips it in the pot, and is about to swallow when he notices the things floating around.

 

NTD: ‘Cast, there are chunks of sod, fertilizer, and, I think garden implements in this thing.

 

OC: Yeah, it is a “Get Off My Lawn” gumbo.

 

NTD: Well, in any case, I think I’ll pass. I was never up for eating fertilizer.

 

Nate walks to the next entry, “Superior One” Tom Flesher.

 

NTD: Hey Tom, what have you made?

 

Tom: Well, uh, guy with no pants, I have made Tom’s Superior Vat o’ Boilermakers.

 

NTD: So, would you say that you have a “soup-erior” entry?

 

Tom: Yeah, it’s my Superior Vat o’ Boilermakers.

 

NTD: Do you think it’s “soup-erior” enough to win?

 

Tom: I hope so. It is my Superior Vat o’ Boilermakers.

 

NTD: But is it “soup-erior”?

 

Tom: I’ve been telling you, it’s called Tom’s Superior Vat o’ Boilermakers. Could you just taste it, please?

 

NTD obliges and has a taste.

 

NTD: It’s good, but not “soup-erior.”

 

Tom: What do you mean? The name is Tom’s Superior Vat o’ Boilermakers!!

 

NTD: Never mind Tod, never mind.

 

NTD continues to the next entry, Frost.

 

NTD: Who the hell are you?

 

Frost: I could ask you the same thing. And why are you not wearing pants?

 

NTD: I’m the self-proclaimed greatest World, ICTV and tag champion ever. And I’m not wearing pants because I hate them with a LUST FULL OF RAGE!!! With that out of the way, what have you made?

 

Frost: I’ve got a tasty treat. Blubber gazpacho.

 

NTD pulls out a spoon from…uh, you don’t want to know where, and has a taste, which immediately elicits a look of disgust and the possibility of vomiting.

 

NTD: Jeez, that’s horrible? What the hell is in that?

 

Frost: Well, it’s not actually blubber, as Green Peace won’t let me kill a whole whale or anything. So, I got some chicken fat, lard, and other such things, chilled them, and served them.

 

NTD: I hate you. My heart is starting to clog up now…I think I’m going to have a heart attack after eating pure fat.

 

NTD walks away, and to the next contestant, Bobby Riley.

 

NTD: Riley, you’re not making your old entry, Cream of Sum Yung Gai, are you?

 

Riley: How did you know?

 

NTD: Go away. You’re disqualified once again. But first…

 

NTD grabs the pot, aiming to throw the soup away so a repeat from last year won’t happen, but unbeknownst to him, the pot has been on high-heat for a few hours. NTD screams, throwing the pot in the air, which lands on top of him, drenching him with the white soup.

 

NTD: DAMMIT!!!

 

Riley, forlorn, walks away as NTD moves on to the next participator, “Grand Slam” Mark Stevens.

 

NTD: Hey, it’s the guy who took my job. How’s your life, now that you’re living off the fat checks of announcing, you talent less hack?

 

GSMS: Calm down. Could you just try my chili, please?

 

NTD angrily tries the chili, and his face slightly twists from the heat.

 

NTD: Hmm, not bad. However, where’s the tequila?

 

GSMS: This is more of a “family” chili if you will.

 

NTD: Get out. NOW!

 

Stevens walks away, a bit upset. NTD, upon seeing that he’s come to the end, turns around and it looks like he’s ready to make a decision.

 

NTD: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of the soup portion of the IG…er, SWF Cook-Off is, "Superior One," Tom Flesher!

 

A celebratory D-Film for Tom will be forthcoming.

[Guest Chuck Woolery]

I voted for Tom, because I mark out for horrible puns.

[Guest chirs3]

If Wilson's crab plan had succeeded, he'd get my vote. As it stands, Flesher takes it.

[Guest Ace309]

Frost all the way, if it weren't for those Greenpeace bastards.

 

And poor Mister Wally Pip.

[Guest redbaron51]

GOdrea purposley made mine not funny at all.

[Guest Ace309]

You're being held down!

[Guest 5_moves_of_doom]

Ahem, Bob Riley rules.

 

That is all.

[Guest redbaron51]

You're being held down!

At least I got some recongnition

[Guest TheBostonStrangler]

Nice work, GOdrea. Me hitting Bo with a ladle = (Y)(Y)(Y). Now I need to go after him with some other famous Boston dishes. Look out, Bo.

 

And Flesher winning this poll is a travesty. Why? Because he already has titles and stuff. I'm retired and addicted to steroids. I NEED THIS!

[Guest Ace309]

Oh, come on. You act like you wouldn't LOVE a big vat of boilermakers.

[Guest BA_Baracus]

PROMO (Stubby P. McWeed);

"Godrea is teh sillypants.

 

Mothernature says..."