A/N: This is CRACK!!!!!!! I just had to do it. Nothing in this is meant to be offensive, just stupid and hopefully it makes you laugh.
The Price Is RAW
Bob Barker smiled as he walked around the ring waving to the roar of cheering fans, the trademark Price Is Right theme song jingling under the loud fan reaction. In his hand he held a WWE mic, he was after all the guest host of RAW. The crowd quieted as Bob began to speak.
"I can't believe who our guest host is tonight!" King crowed, as Bob paraded around the ring. "It's Bob Barker! I wonder if he brought any of Barkers' Beauties with him tonight? Yum!! I'd love to get my hands on one of those!"
"VINTAGE Jerry "The King" Lawler!"
Jerry rolled his eyes, ignoring Cole.
He started to address the RAW fans and talk about what he was going to do that night, when someone elses music began to play. Bob spun around, looking at the ramp. Strutting down the ramp was Santino in drag. Bob wrinkled his nose, disgusted. "Santina" climbed into the ring and happily sashayed around, finally stopping near Bob, shyly playing with a piece of "her" raven colored hair.
"What do YOU want?" Bob asked, as fans jokingly cheered and cat-called.
"Me? Oh ah-Mister Bobby The Barker! Imma big fan of-ah yours!" Santina giggled. "Imma come out to impress-ah you!" "She" started her strutting around the ring again.
"Impress me? For what?" Bob laughed. "Impress me by leaving!"
"Ah, but ah-Mister Barking! I wanna to be a model!"
Bobs' eyes nearly popped out of his skull.
"WHAT?"
"Imma watch your show very long time, and it's my dream! I wanna to be one of Bobby The Barkers Beauties!"
Jerry "The King" Lawler cracked up laughing. The cameras zoomed in on Santina, puckering her lips and batting her eyelashes at Bob, who was clearly close to vomiting.
"VINTAGE Santina!!" Cole announced.
"Ask Drew Carey." Bob replied to Santinas' absurd request. "Maybe you can um…be uh…one of Drews Dikes."
"What! You summavagun! Am I not-ah beautiful enough to be Bobby The Barkers model?"
"Um, you know what…maybe with a little work, you could be." Bob put on a fake, bright, smile and reluctantly patted Santinas' shoulder.
"Oh!" She exclaimed, clearly excited to the point she was nearly in tears.
"Why don't you go back to your dressing room and erm, practice modeling toasters. Yeah, go to catering and practice modeling with a toaster. We give away a lot of toasters on The Price Is Right! Go stick a big ass fork in it! That's how we do it!"
Overjoyed, Santina bounded out of the ring as laughter rose through the arena. Bob shook his head and continued on.
The night went on pretty ordinarily. Strangely enough, there were a few promos between Bob Barker and…Ric Flair?
Bob was backstage talking to Chris Jericho, who was berating him for being just another old geezer craving another last time to be in the spot light. They were interrupted when Flair came between them, glaring at Barker.
"What do YOU want?" Bob asked, eye to eye with the legend.
"You listen here, Bob-O." Flair started, jamming his finger into Bobs' chest for punctuation. "I am the OLDEST thing allowed to be on this show, and that's how we're gonna keep it! I don't like your arthritic old wrinkled ass encroaching on MY territory. WOOOOOOO!"
Bob took a step back, frowning.
"I wanna know why you've been looking at my ass." He asked, smirking. Flair pursed his lips together, his face turning a dark cherry color, the veins in his forehead starting to throb. "Now now old timer, wouldn't want to elevate your blood pressure…" Bob rested a hand on Rics' chest and pushed him back.
"That's it Barker, I challenge you to a MATCH!"
In the background, fans cheered.
"A match huh?" Bob stepped closer to Ric until they were nose to nose. "Fine. FIRST BLOOD!" Bob shouted, and Flair promptly accepted.
The main event finally rolled around. The regal music of Ric Flair played over the speakers, followed by echoes of WOO!! From fans throughout the place. Ric strutted out into the ring in a flurry of glitter and feathers, and shed his robe. He waited in the ring eagerly for Bob, and when the Price Is Right theme sang through the place Flair grinned sadistically. Bob came down the ramp in glittery boots and a singlet. On the torso of the singlet it read "Bid On THIS Prize Package" with and arrow pointing downwards to…well…Bobs' "prize" package.
Barker climbed into the ring, ducking under the rope, and the two white haired veteran entertainers squared off, nose to nose as they hurled threats at each other. The ref got between them, announcing the rules and splitting them apart until the bell ring.
"BLEED!" Flair yelled, as he paced with Bob, the two moving in a predatory circle.
"NEVER!" Bob hollered. "YOU BLEED!"
"BLEEDBLEEDBLEEDFUCKER!" Flair shouted.
Not a punch was thrown, not a chop, nothing. The two men just growled and bellowed louder and louder BLEEDBLEEDBLEEDBLEEEEEEEED!
Suddenly, Rics' forehead started to pour blood, without even being touched. Shocked, he reached up and pulled back his fingers, crimson. The bell was rang and the ref came over to Barker, whispering something.
"Mister Barker…that only took .000000001 seconds. We still have ten mintues of time to fill." The ref glanced over to Flair, who had from somewhere produced a tube of Bengay and was for some reason rubbing it all over his face which was masked with blood. Bob spoke to the ref, and it was announced that there was going to be another match…Extreme Rules no DQ!
This time, it was Flair and Bob who were interrupted. Jerichos' song hit and he hip walked down the ramp, his face set in a horrible glare.
"Look, it's Jericho!" King yipped. "What does HE want?"
Jericho walked towards the ring, he had a mic in hand, for the love of…ugh. He ducked into the ring and raised it to his lips, speaking in an annoying monotone.
"THIS is our main event?" Chris motioned to the two oldsters in front of him. "How pathetic. But what's even more pathetic, is all these hypocrites and parasites eating this up. All of you leeching tape-worms love this don't you, yeah! You just keep enabling these worthless, used up, old trashbags to come out here one more time. Do you think this is entertaining?"
A taunt of 'Christina' started up, led by Barker, and Jericho sneered harder.
"Looks like Chris Jericho doesn't like the main event Bob Barker has planned out for tonight!" King stated.
"VINTAGE Chris Jericho!" The man next to him exclaimed. Jerry rolled his eyes. Chris continued.
"You want to be entertained? I'll show you entertainment. I want in. Lets' make this a triple threat match."
"Oh boy, this is gonna be good!" King sang.
It was agreed, and Flair flicked the blood out of his eyes as the bell rang again. Now three men squared off. Flair landed chops to Barkers' chest, pinning him up in the turnbuckle, but Bob shoved him away and speared him to the matt. Jericho pulled Bob off of Flair and Irish-whipped him off the ropes, landing a clothesline that put the old man on his back. Flair started to get up, but Jericho landed the Codebreaker. Now both of the seniors were down. Jericho sauntered around the ring bobbling his head arrogantly, that smug, one-sided grin hung on his face.
Bob revived a little, and started to tussle around with Flair behind Jerichos back as the Canadian continued to gloat and taunt the crowd. Bob had enough of trading blows with Flair, and rolled out of the ring. He bent and reached under the ring apron. He tucked something into his ring gear and climbed back in, just as Flair landed two fingered eyepoke. Bob sank to the mat, holding his face and writhing. Now it was Flair who started to show off, but Jericho wrapped his arms around Flairs waist and dropped him backwards. Flair rolled around on the mat. Jericho pinned him, but surprisingly he kicked out. Meanwhile, Bob had sneaked up behind Chris, and soon the loud-mouthed blond was down on the mat via Bob. He started to get up, when Bob parted his legs and landed a boot right to his crotch. Chris' eyes went wide as he grabbed at his injured anatomy, writhing in pain.
"Bid on that, BITCH!" Bob shouted to Chris, kicking him a few times in the ribs before rolling him out of the ring.
Flair and Bob were at it again as Chris laid on the outside, panting and trying to drag himself up to his knees and towards the ring. Flair got Bob onto the matt and locked him into the Figure Four. The crowd went crazy and the ref slid over to the two asking Bob if he was going to give up. He shook his head adamantly refusing, grimacing in pain as Flair wrenched the hold making it worse. Bob reached into the top of his singlet, and pulled out what he had got from under the ring.
"What is that!" King yelped, craning his neck to try and see just what it was in Bobs' hand. "It looks like…a large, round, chip of some sort. Hey wait, is that what I think it is!? IT IS!!" King wailed, nearly laughing.
"That's VINTAGE Bob Barker!"
"Will you shut the hell up?" Jerry bitch slapped Cole, who looked completely stunned. Satisfied, King turned back to the ring, just as Bob reeled back to throw the thing in his hand.
"PLINK FUCKIN OOOOOH!!!!" Bob screamed, hurling the Plink-O chip at Ric. It bounced off his already wounded head, and he fell back onto the matt, slumped. The hold was loosened and Bob crawled out of it, and slid over Ric, pinning him for the three-count.
Bob stood over Flair, kicking his unconscious form, hurling insults, as Lillian announced Barker as the winner.
"The actual retail price of your showcase IS…IT DOESN'T MATTER!!" Barker rolled out of the ring, and grabbed a mic from Lillian. The crowd was in a frenzy, as Bob yelled into the mic. "DO YOU SMELLALALALALALA WHAT THE BARK IS COOKIN?!"
The roof flew off the place. Pleased with himself and the great show he'd hosted, he turned to the cameras as they panned in on him. The show was coming to a close. King was going crazy laughing, barely able to keep it together. Medics had came out to check on Ric, helping him sit up as blood dripped onto the canvas. Jericho was still on the floor, and Bob walked over to him, propping his foot on Chris' chest in a pompous show of victory. Bob smiled into the camera.
"This is Bob Barker, reminding you to help control the assclown population. Remember, get your Canadians spayed and neutered. Goodnight!"