*Editor's note: Mitch the Intern is an NYU undergrad whose favorite Wednesday night pastime includes the TV in his dorm room, a green beanbag chair and two hits of acid. Enjoy.*
Dana White greets us in his sacred homeland of Las "F-Bomb" Vegas, where he's assembled what will soon be an army of assorted goons and ruffians to confront the invading Brits. And by "assorted" I mean "motley", and by "goons" I mean "tough guys", and by "ruffians" I mean "men that would steal your lunch money and leave you stuffed inside a locker". And by "confront", I mean "live in a house under 24-hour surveillance, while over the loudspeakers Dana's voice is played on a continuous loop of curse words and techno music", and by "Brits" I mean "people that speak in foreign languages and require subtitles for us to understand them". Anyway, Dana says hi. And drops F-bombs. And introduces the Queen of England (also known mysteriously as "Dan" - I guess Rich Franklin is dead?) as their coach for Team America: World Police.
Right away fighters are discarded like human refuse. Someone named My God I Have Herpes On National Television And I'm Never Getting Laid Again is booted, but not before Dana says the word "herpes" about 50 times and brands him with a hot iron and makes him wear a scarlet "H" on his shirt. Someone else is deemed too fat.
Close up of Dana: lost, alone without his British "friend" Michael Bisping. A single tear streams down Dana's cheek. "This is the worst start to the season in the history of the show," he says, but what he really means to say is, "Michael... Michael... I miss you."
Then there are fights. Dana and the Queen of England make two brothers face each other in the cage, and the brothers do, stumbling each other with punches until one of them drops. The winner, Mark Miller, is then forced to cut his fallen sibling's throat, shoot him with a derringer, and back over him with a VW Jetta. Mark is sad but all the while Dana laughs. The perverse laugh of Satan, sitting in a recliner in Hell on a lazy Sunday afternoon, drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon while sins are replayed in slow-motion on a big LCD television.
Comedian Carrot Top enters the cage sans props. He defeats some dude of no memorable characteristics whatsoever.
Close up of Dana, this time with music - slow, wistful music. "I... I miss you, Michael..." Dana mutters, but the Queen of England ignores him, maybe a little embarrassed at Dana's confession.
Someone with a brain aneurysm named Santino Defranco gets into the cage. He apparently wants to fight in the UFC before he dies, but no one has told him that fighting requires him to punch back, as the first round sees him lay down against the fence and let another man beat on him relentlessly. In between rounds Defranco's corner lets him know that he can, in fact, hit back, so he comes out and destroys his opponent. His brain aneurysm pulses. Threatens to explode.
Someone named Steve Berger fights. Steve fought in the UFC back in 2002, so he gets to fight in the Octagon again because the Statute of Limitations has expired or something like that. He loses. Some punk rocker fights, gets beat on, then chokes his opponent out before time runs out. Someone named The Marquis de Johnson defeats Ray Elbow. The canvas is eventually stained crimson with Ray Elbow's blood.
Dana cackles maniacally, but inside he aches. "Michael... my Michael," he says, and adds some solemn F-bombs.
Team American: World Police is almost complete. However, two more potential members still have to fight, and they'll battle it out against some other yahoos next week.
Another tear streams down Dana's cheek. Fade to black.
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