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Mikey Unlikey's Fed of All Feds

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Merry… Oh shut up!

Breaking News music blares as we have a camera zooming in from the rafters of this small television studio, to Scott Hunter, standing behind a three-sided, slightly curved podium, complete with a skinny microphone.

As per most of his television time lately, he is frowning and clearly in no mood for your nonsense. He leans forward on one elbow and holds a finger out to point at you, the viewer.

“Let me tell you all something right now. No fancy introductions, no cute little Christmas decorations, and no Santa suit.

I haven’t even seen what my fellow competitors have done with their time this week, but I guarantee at least one, probably more than one, was wearing a Santa suit, or reading a story by a fire… and while I very briefly considered wearing the giant pink bunny outfit made popular by the wonderful film, A Christmas Story, because I love that movie, instead I’ve chosen to be the one man around here this week who is actually taking this seriously.

I’m sure Randall Schwartz celebrated Hanukkah his own way, by boring us to tears for eight straight nights.

And don’t get me started on Carlos Ruiz. What the hell is with that Feliz Navidad song?? It’s the same two lines over and over for like twenty minutes! You have a lot to answer for, Señor!

Meanwhile, Bobby Dean, one of you that actually looks closest to Santa Claus, probably won’t dress like him at all! But I bet he’ll be jingle-belling his big fat butt all over the ring anyway, won’t he? Probably be huggin and muggin some poor young lady in an elf costume that is uncomfortably tight and feeds into Mr. Dean’s well-known yuletide perversions.”

Hunter leans forward on both elbows, intense.

“I told you once before, this is a family show, and I will defend the kids at home who don’t want to be subjected to all of your holiday whoring. You made me say whoring!! You’ll pay for that too.

All of this Christmastime stuff put to the side, let’s talk about things that actually matter. Let’s talk about the fact that I have now defeated up to three people in the last few months and am now sitting pretty with exactly the same number of wins as losses. I’m told that no one has ever accomplished that feat before. I dare you to try and tell me otherwise! I will blind you with my fists!

I’m well equipped to handle any of you so-called ‘wrestlers.’ I found out that John Oates of R&B super duo Hall & Oates went to our dentist once. So naturally, I pretended to need a checkup, break into the files, retrieve Oates’ personal details, then I cold-called him and convinced him with my insurmountable charm to play at my cousin’s bar-mitzvah! And he was thrilled! To this day, whenever they come through town, I get invited up on stage to sing a chorus of Rich Girl.

So you think I’m a joke? You think I’m nothing special? You think I don’t bring anything to the table? Well, I bring everything to the table – chairs, placemats, napkin rings, decorative centerpieces, candles, my elbows. I was, to this date, the first and only person to ever fight one of those animatronic rodents at Chuck E. Cheese and force that mouse to submit to a kimura. I have also now submitted multiple ‘wrestlers’ in Classic Wrestling with my patented figure four leglock, a move I invented!

So don’t come out here with your dumb little snowflake special effects and singing Frosty the Snowman, and trying to make everyone jolly (WITH AN ATTITUDE). I don’t wanna hear it. If you see Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, you tell him and his shiny nose that he sucks. You hear me? Because I’ll tell you right now, I don’t care who I get matched up with out there, I will snap your fibula and mangle your legs with my own legs. And your tibia too! Since I have been told that’s another leg bone.

So bah humbug.”

Hunter holds up his fists.

“Tonight you’ll be visited by these two fists, so suck down that bad piece of potato, buddy, because when it comes to wailing on you nerds, it’s much better to give than receive.”

The music kicks back in and the camera pulls away as Scott Hunter holds his dramatic pose.

Fade.

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