At the Great American SHOVE-IT!, over a dozen competitors enter a tournament seeking to challenge for, and ideally hold the Universal Championship in a match with the Engineer, at an event set up by the Engineer.



We see Jackie Peppers is sitting in the center of a crowded love seat with Bob Whiskey, who is snoring, out like a light, his massive head cocked back and his mouth wide open. On the other side of Jackie is Black Angus, Jackie's manager, ready to train as evidenced by being passed out as well, an empty bottle of scotch on the floor and at his fingertips. Jackie looks rather unnerved by the whole of it, evidenced by his speaking to himself in a hushed tone.

Ooooh, they're both asleep, maybe I can go home and have some of my mom's meatloaf or something.

Jackie tries to set up from the love seat. As he does, Bob Whiskey rolls over and slings his big, fat arm around the smaller Jackie, snuggling him sweetly like he was a teddy bear made out of your security blanket. Bob nuzzles Jackie's neck. Jackie's whole face furrows with grief.

Suddenly, the room is completely unsettled as a rush of secret service agents take over the small living room on Angus's house boat that is parked in a cul-de-sac. Bob wakes up, completely startled, and tackles two secret service agents, frisking them for snacks. Angus barely opens his eyes, looking like a drunken zombie. Jackie is screaming his lungs out.

AAAAH! AAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! JESUS FUCK ME FUCK WHAT THE FUCK JESUS OH MY GOD!

As Jackie panics, a stream of fog pours through the doorway to the outside world, and through the fog steps the President of the United States, Donald J. Trump. A pair of stormtroopers follow suit, complete in white armored suit and helmet and laser blasters. Behind him, we see Wayne LaPierre, who is holding his favorite minigun. Wayne points his weapon at the wall of the houseboat and cuts a portal through it using bullets. Jackie scrambles and shoves the love seat away from the wall to hide behind it. Angus yawns and gets up, scratching his ass, and walks towards the kitchen. Donald scratches Bob behind his ears.

Good boy.

Donald pulls a fried chicken leg, not kept in a napkin, just a fried chicken leg out of his pocket and Bob snags it with his mouth and scampers off outside to play with the fog machine.

Wayne LaPierre removes his suit jacket, revealing he was able to man such a powerful weapon as a handheld rotary cannon due to having robot arms. Using his robotic super strength, he slides the love seat out of the way. Donald sits on it as LaPierre picks up Jackie Peppers by the neck of his t-shirt and sets him beside the Commander in Chief.

Hello, Jackie. It's nice to meet you. How are you today? Are you good? I'm good. I hope you're good. You can be so good, that yes, we will and have every reason to.

Jackie is shivering in pure terror.

W-W-What the hell?

Look, I'm going to level with you. It's going to be great, it's going to be huge. The Greatest American SHOVE-IT!, I'm the president, and you, Jackie Peppers, you have a message. A great and powerful message for the American people, and you can, we need it, all of us want it, all of us hope for it. It is, without a doubt, the biggest part of my legacy yet.

U-U-Uh, what?

Wayne LaPierre points the dozen barrels arranged in a cylinder at Jackie.

SAY WHAT AGAIN, MOTHERFUCKER! SAY WHAT AGAIN!

Donald puts his hand up and looks at Wayne with disdain, nodding his head 'no'. He turns back to Jackie, sticking his lower lip out.

You have a plan, Jackie, a plan to stop the shootings, to take out the maniacs before they have a chance to know what hit them, to deal with a problem this country faces. Do you know what country I mean?

What?

Wayne LaPierre turns his weapon to the wall and draws a frowny face with X's for eyes.

WHAT AIN'T NO COUNTRY I EVER HEARD OF! THEY SPEAK ENGLISH IN 'WHAT'!?

Donald Trump punches Wayne in the cock. Wayne doubles over onto the ground, falling into a mess of Lego bricks, empty cans, both beer and beans, and food wrappers.

I told you to stop.

Trump turns and looks at Jackie.

He loves playing Pulp Fiction. Later we're going to do the pawn shop scene. Pencie is going to be the Gimp, and we got the corpse of Michael Clark Duncan to use as Marcellus Wallace when we rape him. He's huge. It's going to be huge.

Jackie is completely wide eyed, a tear streaming down his face.

Y-Y-Your going to what?

We're going to rape an Academy Award Winner's dead, and probably well-rotted, body. You see, we're a big part of the XWF Universe, we are known, we have big names. I used to manage Peter Gilmour. Have you ever heard of Peter Gilmour? Of course you have. Peter Gilmour is a household name. An American sports icon. He's the type of person you mention in the same breath as all the greats. Babe Ruth. Jackie Robinson. Muhammad Ali. Tom Brady. Peter Gilmour. Now, sadly, this man who is an institution in this country, is not going to be competing at the Greatest American SHOVE-IT! because he's going to be busy screwing hot chicks at his Malibu estate while snorting the ashes of Hugh Hefner and drinking pure adrenochrome strained from the cadavers at UCLA. That's why I need you, and your message, to shine, Jackie.

I don't understand.

Angus steps back into the room, holding a sharpened stick. He pokes Jackie with is, who winces.

He means de thung aboot ye wantin' te arm de students.

Wayne LaPierre, who has gotten back to his feet, raises both his robot arms to the sky and grins.

That's why I'm here, Jackie. You see, your idea to arm the students really hits home with the NRA's message, and that's to educate people on firearms. Now, gun history, gun culture, gun math, gun science, gun gym class, gun probability and statistics, and gun literature are going to be implemented in the curriculum of every school in the nation, and students will be required to purchase and maintain a firearm at the beginning of every school year, from Kindergarten to grade 12.

That's...

Trump places his hand on Jackie's thigh in a very awkward way, causing Jackie to pipe up. As he does, the day turns black as night and a terrifying screech fills the air. The wind rustles in through the hole Wayne LaPierre blew out of the wall, causing the President's hair to stick a full foot up in the air. Jackie looks like he's shitting his pants as Betsy DeVos swoops into the house boat.

That's where I come in. It's a wonderful incentive to America's youth to stay in school. Senior year, a special time for American kids. Homecoming. Prom. Skip Day. Semiautomatic weapons. Now, instead of going to school in fear, wondering if ISIS or the liberal agenda has swayed some poor fractured soul into becoming a monster and taking up arms at their place of learning, they'll feel secure, safe, and educated while carrying fully automatic bullpup rifles.

Face it, Jack, you're a revolutionary thinker. Ahead of your time. A visionary. You're on America's side, right?

Uh, I think so?

I think so too, Jack. Do you like Jack? I like it. It's more grown up on you.

Donald slides his hand up Jackie's thigh. Jackie falls over the arm rest of the love seat and onto the floor avoiding Trump's creepy embrace. As he does, Trump looks flustercucked.

Oh, I'm sorry, do I not look like the real President? Here, I will do a DNA test. Betsy, hit me.

Donald gets on the floor in a crab position, his feet and hands behind his back. Betsy DeVos unzips his fly, and his fully erect two-inch penis pokes out. Wayne LaPierre holds an empty pint glass at the tip in his cold, dead robotic hands.

Couldn't we do a mouth swab?

Nunsense, laddy! 'Tis de wee of de XWF ta do it dis way!

Betsy DeVos hikes up her plain tight skirt and rolls down her super white pantyhose, showing a roadmap of vericose veins along a topological map of wrinkles and cellulite pockets. DeVos pisses directly on Trump's head, and without so much as flinching, the leader of the free world ejaculates into the pint glass, filling it to the brim. A man in a white lab coat runs in and dips some kind of device into the pint of semen, which causes the device to whistle "Hail To The Chief" as the man in the lab coat gives a thumbs up.

See, it's Presidential.