*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.*
Fade in to a SpikeTV producer in a dimly-lit room, leaning over an editor who is in turn leaning over an editing console and a pair of monitors.
"So we tried adding a drunken French kickboxer into the mix," says the producer. "That was good for maybe one and a half episodes. Then we added a convicted rapist. Then we added a 'medic', then some unknown high-ranking wrestler. What's left on the list of ratings boosters?"
The editor reaches for a clipboard on his desk, begins reading aloud from it. "Uh, we still have that actress who will come onto the set claiming to be Georges St. Pierre's secret wife. There's also that kid who will claim to be St. Pierre's illegitimate son. And there's still that kidnapping-and-ransom plot we can throw in, the hostage situation, and, uh, that whole rampaging escaped rhinoceros thing."
"Is that it?" asks the producer. "Nothing less… blatant?"
The editor stares at the clipboard some more. "Ah, yes. There's a boxing trainer. Freddie Roach. We have him down as guest training St. Pierre's team and accidentally killing one of them."
"Hmmm…" says the producer, considering the options. Then he snaps his finger and points at one of the monitors. "Okay, we'll use the boxing trainer, but no deaths. We need to inject some life into this thing yet nothing too over-the-top."
"Done," says the editor with a nod.
And so that's how another character is added to this emotionally-devoid season of "The Ultimate Boring". But first!
A quarterfinal match-up between Dr. Watson and Eye-run Wal-king Some looms. And by "looms", I mean, we see them saying "yeah, we're going to fight," and then boom, they're making their way to the Octagon before five minutes have elapsed in the episode.
"Don't get choked out," coach Josh Kosh B'Gosh advises his British ward. But Eye-run Wal-king Some has other ideas, and when the ref yells "fight!" the Brit promptly lies down on his stomach and lets Dr. Watson take his back. The ensuing rear naked choke is purely academic, the inevitable tap out a sad testament to how no one - not even the fighters themselves - is really giving a crap anymore.
"Damn," says Josh Kosh B'Gosh, apparently believing that a coach's role extends only as far as shouting last-second advice as your fighter steps into the cage.
There's one quarterfinal bout left, the eagerly-anticipated (okay, not really) hate-filled (well, not exactly) grudge (um, nah) match between Chris Rock on Steroids and Bruce Leroy.
Says Georges St. Mumble: "Dese guys, day real-ee 'ate each other, so nat-chur-lee, day must fight." Whatever.
Cut to the guest appearance of boxing trainer extraordinaire Freddie Roach, who coached Rocky Balboa to a gutsy win in his rematch against Ivan Drago, and who taught Cain how to swing a rock for his bout against Abel. Freddie Roach holds the pads for the alien Jonathan ("Good hand speed, but what the hell is this guy? A muppet?"), holds the pads for Chris Rock on Steroids and Bruce Leroy ("What does that cue card say? 'Boy, these guys really hate each other'?), and holds the pads for no one, standing there and telling an imaginary boxer that his jab is fast.
There's also some kind of faux-static with Josh Kosh B'Gosh somehow blaming the last quarterfinal match-up on Georges St. All Smiles No Discernible Words, like, the pairing is the fault of the Canadian's machinations. But we know better. This season has produced so much coach vs. coach heat that volcanoes are like, "Whoa, guys, chill out." This is just one more excuse for these two to hate each other passionately and tack on an extra 300,000 consumers for their future pay-per-view fight.
And then Chris Rock on Steroids and Bruce Leroy are fighting, Bruce Leroy in his yellow jumpsuit with his afro swaying to and fro, Chris Rock on Steroids talking about how awesome the "Rush Hour" films were and how he was supposed to star in the "Karate Kid" remake with Jackie Chan but that "Chinese son of a bitch screwed me." For all his flashy kicks and wild techniques, though, Bruce Leroy can't help but fall prey to his opponent's wrestling, and Chris Rock on Steroids picks him up and dumps onto the canvas over and over and over again. Though tired in Round 2, Chris Rock keeps up with the punishment. Bruce Leroy - unable to summon the mythical "Glow" - loses the decision.
"That fight sucked," Josh Kosh B'Gosh says angrily to Georges St. Has No Business Even Pretending He Can Speak English.
"Hey, go easy, man," says Mount Kilauea in Hawaii.
Post-fight and Dana White calls the coaches into his lair to determine the final two match-ups. There's no fanfare, there's no conflict (which is pretty much typical of this season). Both coaches and UFC president agree that Chris Rock on Steroids should face Banh Mi (which leaves Dr. Watson facing Jonathan). They in turn tell the remaining fighters.
Cut to the dimly-lit room. The SpikeTV producer is staring at the monitor. Slowly he begins shaking his head. "You know what?" he says.
"What?" says the editor.
"This sucks. Get the zoo on the phone. We're going to need that rhinoceros."
Fade to black.
