It’s date number three for PRIME’s hottest new couple. Potato fans will not be happy to hear that this time, they are not at a local spud hut for yet another round of buffet-style carb loading. No, as third dates often go, Garbage Bag Johnny and Muriel Puddings have moved past the point of formalities. While the respective blazes still raging on in their hearts and loins, the two find themselves cozied up on a loveseat together this evening.
Those in the know would recognize the room as Melvin Buearegard’s office. Muriel discovered its furnishings just this morning when she was called inside for an “important meeting regarding your professional behavior in public.” Apparently, word had gotten to him that she’d once again barged into one of the men’s rooms at the MGM Grand trying to pickpocket drunken high-rollers the night before. This time, instead of pleading the “tenth amen-ment,” Muriel argued that the closed circuit footage looked nothing like her. And that it was “some other really hot blond bae” that also happened to be wearing the exact same outfit she had on at that very moment in his office (Soffe shorts and a pink T-shirt that read “Big Appetite” with an image of a covered dish on it.)
As they lounged on the couch, we find Muriel wearing the exact same shorts. She’d at least changed her shirt, though: today opting for a plain white one with “Women’s Rights” and a screened photo of Lorena Bobbitt’s mugshot on the front. Johnny in turn had changed into a pair of plaid pajama pants after his match that looked strikingly similar to ones we’ve seen Muriel wear before, as well as one of the “Never underestimate a MUSSY…” text-barf tees.
Speaking of vomiting, the two are stretched out on opposite ends of the furniture, giving one another a footrub. Lovely.
Muriel Puddings: Can you press a little harder on that bunion, stud?
Garbage Bag Johnny: Anything for you, my little candied yam. How’s that planter’s wart look today?
Muriel brings her face up closer to his foot, examining it as if it were a science project.
Muriel Puddings: I think there’s a new hair on it.
Remember that you all asked for this. There are no complaints allowed going forward.
Garbage Bag Johnny: So what do you want to watch on the ol’ boob tube tonight? Binge the first season of the Knight Rider reboot? Teen Mom 9? Or maybe that new Hoarders dating show, where hoarders find their true love in piles of each others’ old junk?
Muriel Puddings: I’m not really in the mood for anything romantic tonight. Besides, it’s more fun for me when you gotta work to get my ol’ gooch toggle at attention.
Johnny begins to shift a bit in his PJ pants as Muriel bites her lower lip seductively at him.
Muriel Puddings: You know what I haven’t seen yet, though? Culture Shock.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Yeah, I guess we both were a little busy during the biggest night since PRIME came back, huh? Busy having the time of our lives, that is.
Muriel Puddings: I wouldn’t trade that night for anything in the world, cutie patootie. Except for a lot of money and complete power over the universe. No offense.
Garbage Bag Johnny: None taken. I know you’re a material girl, and I’m just glad I can be a part of your material world. Either way, sure. I’m down to watch a little ‘rasslin history, even if there’s some going on right now we could watch.
Muriel sticks out her tongue in faux disgust.
Muriel Puddings: Yeah, but I’m not on tonight’s card, so no thanks. Culture Shock has me on it, though, and I need to see how cute I looked.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Well, take it from me, a man with high taste and sophistication – you were an 11 out of 10. A real au gratin in a sea of inferior side dishes. The perfectly baked tuber that engulfs the butter, sour cream, and chives with your beauty.
Muriel coos and plants a big wet kiss right on Johnny’s pinky toe.
Muriel Puddings: You know just what to say to make a gal blush. And create a marsh for my lily pads to float in. But take control of your toad for a second and let’s watch the show! Or at least fast forward to where I’m on camera.
The President of Idaho reaches for the Apple remote to flip on the very expensive television set mounted on Melvin’s office wall. Using it as a tool to scratch an itch behind her first, she navigates through the apps and finally comes across the replay of the inaugural pay-per-view.
Muriel Puddings: Ugh, there’s something wrong with this stupid thing. Can you try to play it?
She hands the remote to Johnny who quickly sneaks a sniff of it before mashing random buttons, which miraculously ends up being the right combination.
Garbage Bag Johnny: What can I say? Magic touch.
Muriel Puddings: Can’t wait until those Houdini hands cast a squirt spell on me later.
The very sharp opening video package kicks off as the two romantics continue to fondle each other’s hooves. Muriel holds up a pair of “devil horns” that is actually just the universal symbol for “surf’s up” as she slightly nods her head to the beat of Skillet. Johnny, not wanting to come off as uncool, replicates the action himself.
Muriel Puddings: I love a rocking beat! This looks pretty good so far. Hope they gave the guy who put this introduction together a big fat raise. As long as it doesn’t cut into what I’m making, of course.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Should I fast forward to the good part where you come out?
Muriel Puddings: No way, honey. Let’s keep watching this. Pretty sure I’m near the end where they usually put the major stars.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Uh…yeah. Okay.
The truth in the matter was that GBJ had already seen this particular vignette. In retrospect, he likely should have just skipped ahead to the opening match without even allowing Muriel the opportunity to see it. However, it was too late. As the clip package continued, Johnny’s mind began to race as to the best possible method to diffuse what emotional reaction was likely to come when she found out.
Muriel Puddings: What? There…there must be some mistake! Did I miss me? Or did they just forget to put me in there? That has to be it…right, babe?
But it was too late. The revelation that Muriel had been left out of the promo did not go unnoticed by the self-absorbed Trashed Potato. Johnny held his breath momentarily, silently hoping that she at least failed to notice that he had been featured on it on two separate occasions. However, he knew he needed to act quickly to make sure that it didn’t detract her from the real issue at hand (and thus avoid her getting mad at him for no reason.) Yes, now was the time for him to make sure he calmed his new lady friend down and try to look at the situation with both reason and logic…
Garbage Bag Johnny: I can’t BELIEVE they would do that to you! Those scoundrels. We need to have someone fired for this. As well as banned from ever making television again, or even watching television again!
…or, just enable her narcissistic behavior and thereby draw her that much closer to him.
Muriel Puddings: I mean, I…I…I know! At first I thought I might have been overreacting, but it’s good to know that I’m not the only one who’s ticked freakin’ off about this!
Garbage Bag Johnny: Oh, I’m more than ticked off, dumplin’. I’m peed off. I might even be a little bit queued off. And you know what really chews my chimichanga…that last clip they used of me was from that Dual Halo I won and got released before I could use the ticket. That’s what they call insult to injury right there.
Johnny notices that Muriel could care less about his problems right now and moves to loop things back around.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Why, if I had that ticket now, I’d demand that all future PRIME intros only include your scenes.
Puddings pouts and folds her arms across her chest. Johnny is quick to pivot and move next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in for a hug.
Muriel Puddings: This is all my brother’s fault, you know.
Internally, GBJ questions where his turtledove is coming from with this statement. However, he needs to be her rock in this delicate moment.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I completely agree. Maybe if he had a cool beard or a vintage Dallas Cowboys Starter jacket, he’d be a lot more marketable.
Muriel Puddings: Those are both great ideas, but I don’t think it’s enough. I’m starting to think that my training program isn’t as effective as I thought it was.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Well, don’t sell yourself short, my little sweet potato pie. After all, he did beat Dusk. Thanks to you, of course.
Muriel sighs and smiles, leaning in to give Johnny an Eskimo kiss. Innocent and cute enough until she then moves her nose down and tries to slip it inside of Johnny’s mouth. Which he allows her to do, thereby topping the mutual canker sore therapy as the most disgusting thing that’s ever happened in only three minutes’ time. “Eh, that’s not that gross,” you say…
Muriel Puddings: Feel free to do a little panning for gold in there if you want, Prospector. Either way, a win over that silver fox was fine, but he was more lucky than good. Lucky that I was there, that is. All I’m saying is I think he would really benefit from a more seasoned wrestling veteran helping him out. Do you get what I’m saying?
Johnny pulls back, releasing Puddings’ nose from the reaches of the tip of his tongue. The look on his face is a clear indicator that he was not paying attention, so he nods his head to cover it up.
Muriel Puddings: Great, then you’ll help me train him, then! Plus, it’ll give me a little bit of a break during the week. And lord knows I need some more time for self-care. I haven’t been able to get blackout drunk at the Chubbuck Sudsuckle in like a week trying to get him ring ready!
GBJ furrows an eyebrow, now realizing what he’d inadvertently signed up for.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Wait. So you mean I’m going to have to drive back and forth from Vegas to your place during the week?
Muriel Puddings: Of course not! Now that I’ve banned Tapioca from sending money to his (beep) of an internet girlfriend, there’ll be plenty for airfare to get you up there. And as for accommodations, well, I have just the place for you to stay. A real five-star resort. The finest lodging that Southeast Idaho has to offer.
Garbage Bag Johnny: The Pocatello Shoney’s Motor Inn and Breakfast Buffet?
Muriel Puddings: Okay, the second finest lodging that Southeast Idaho has to offer. It’s got the most comfortable queen-sized bed you’ve ever slept in, and the best part is that you’ll get a snuggle bunny free of charge!
Johnny knows exactly where she’s going with this, but there is still one thing a little bit askew about the offer as he scratches his scalp.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Um, Muriel…I don’t think your mother wants to share a room with me, much less her bed.
Muriel Puddings: Crap. Sorry, I forgot to tell you, she upgraded to a California King and gave me her old one.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Oh, thank GOD. I mean, no offense to the lovely Ms. Karen, but there’s only one woman in my life that I want to be my big spoon. But a Cali King, eh? Moving up in the world, good for her.
Muriel Puddings: Yeah, ever since Bobby started randomly dropping by a couple of weeks ago, she decided to reinvest in something a little more sturdy. She kept the polar bear hide comforter though, which I’m a little upset about, but what can you do? So, you in?
Johnny grins. How could he turn down an offer like this? Still, he didn’t want to come off as too eager, or worse yet, make it seem like he was just freeloading off the fine comforts that the Puddings Residence had to offer. Lifting an index finger, he delivers his answer.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I’m in. But on one condition.
Muriel nods, waiting for the contingency.
Garbage Bag Johnny: My training regimen is rigorous and a little unorthodox. Tapioca waives all legal rights against me, so he can’t take me to court for anything I do, no matter how normally illegal it would be outside of my tutelage. And if he calls me Dad before I feel it’s appropriate, I’m gonna put a whuppin’ on him so fierce, he’ll have to sit to take a whiz and stand to drop a deuce.
Muriel Puddings: I already told you, Junk Daddy, Tapioca’s my brother. So that’d make you his…uh…
Garbage Bag Johnny: Uncle? No. Cousin? Wait, not that either. Second Uncle once removed.
Muriel Puddings: Take your pick. He just needs a positive male role model to unlock his potential. Or just a male role model in general, even a negative one.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I’ll make a man out of him just like you made a man out of me.
Johnny grins, oblivious to how his phrasing may have been interpreted.
Muriel Puddings: I love the sound of that. And speaking of, how about we shut this not-enough-me pay-per-view off and leave a few man streaks on Melvin’s fancy couch!
We fade from this disaster back to ringside