We see Robbie Bourbon, seated at his desk, watching these proceedings while munching what appears to be an official Chicago style dog. Entirely by the book; poppy seed bun, all beef frank, then the mustard, then the far too green relish, then the onions, then the tomato on the top of the bun, a pickle spear on the bottom, two sport peppers, and finished with celery salt. Official and by the book just in case any hot dog authority happens by.

His brow furrows as he sees the conditions the last Hart Champion is forced to live in.

Geez.

As he speaks, bits of hot dog, relish, and all the rest of the fixings kind of fly out and everywhere, though really landing nowhere, instead finding its way out of existence like a deceased bad guy from an N64 game, or just the floor and out of sight of the camera.

Y'know, when I was in prison I didn't have it so rough. It's really how you make it. Shit, it's really sad now that I think about it. Who knew juvie was so awful?

Robbie puts his hot dog back on a plate as a slice of tomato slides off. He picks at it and puts it back into the bun of his dog while sliding out his phone. He dials someone and puts the phone to his head.

Yo, it's Bourbon. What's the name of the facility Waters is holed up in? What? I could have sworn she was kept in some horrible 3rd world country!

Robbie hangs up, finishes his hot dog, and walks out of his office. The camera paces behind him, watching his every step as he makes his way out the door of the Bourbon dojo and into the Donkey Kong rape van.


Some time later...

We see Robbie approach the youth rehabilitation center Dolly Waters is kept in. It's almost as nice as the white collar prison he spent some time in last year. He walks in through the front door and up to the desk.

Hi, I have a package for Dolly Waters.

The receptionist raises an eyebrow.

"Aren't you that Bourbon guy from the TV who gets into fights?"

Yep.

"Okay. Not a lot of mail comes for Waters, wasn't she your partner or something?"

Not, no. No she wasn't. We were in the same organization.

"Uh huh. You're not going to beat her up, are you?"

Nope. That's kind of messed up, even for me, to go to a juvenile detention center and beat up an incarcerated teen girl.

"Oh, okay. Yeah, she doesn't take care of herself, she constantly takes her corn bread and pats the walls with it, then scrapes it off and smears it on herself later."

Yeah, yeah, she was in the XWF alright. Heh, at least she's not pregnant.

"Huh. Well, sign here, and I'll get the package to her."

Robbie signs a sheet on the receptionist's desk, then pulls out an 8 by 10 photo of himself holding the Hart Championship and signs it as well.

That's for her.

"Okay, sweetie, I'll make sure she gets it."