Robbie Bourbon recently touched down topside on the XWF Cruise Liner circling the 61st parallel, keeping constant contact with Antarctica. He seems ready for his huge match up with Brandon Moore for the Hart Championship.

Are you ready?

PARTY BOAT

We open to see the chaotic party that is topside on the XWF Cruise. Junkies are shooting up whatever kind of junk they can scrounge up from one another in dark corners, there's a buffet table covered with baked hams, cocaine, and what looks like pure grain alcohol, a candy dish filled with pills with a sign saying "eat me" next to it. At a fun booth, much like a carnival set up, is a man with a small paint brush, dipping it into a vial of clear LCD and swabbing tongues with it. There isn't a condom in sight. Your parents would be terrified, and you would be too, if you weren't one of the crazed horde that is the XWF Universe.

A band is playing in the background, not a major group or anybody recognizable, but they sound alright as the orgy thrives through the night. At this moment, we hear a loud bang, the report of a fireworks mortar going off, and the crackle of it's imperial orange sparks cascading downward below. We see Robbie Bourbon, shirtless, in gym shorts, masked with a massive cigar sticking out of his curled grin of a mouth, his eyes bloodshot red, and the mortar tube in his right hand.

What's up, motherfuckers?

The people go wild. Here's Robbie Bourbon, Man of the People, partying topside with all the XWF Universe just a day away from his huge championship opportunity.

So, you all know I don't drink, but I've got this cigar!

Robbie holds the cigar up as he smiles. A fan snags the mortar tube from his hand.

Okay, Universe, I'm here to party with all of you, the people!

The party rages on as Robbie puffs his Cigar.

Unlike that fucking worm, Brandon Moore. Seeing daylight for the first time, reveling in it's majesty, then slurped up by a fucking bird and spit out and fed to it's babies. Brandon Moore is just regurgitated fucking worms being spit into the mouths of the hungry and waiting, and the hungry and waiting deserve something a little better. Filet mignon, lobster tails, and tiramisu for the huddled masses! No more of this cookie cutter, last ditch, super pathetic wannabe smacktalking idiot!

I mean, he can barely form a fucking sentence through all the fucking cock he's gagging his way through courtesy the actually talented members of Havoc. Why else would they keep his sorry ass around? Carry the bags, make the coffee, swirl your tongue more while you move your head back and forth, swallow. Just a day in the life for Brandon "I'm In Havoc but They're Really In Me" Moore. This guy stuck his tongue to more frozen poles in twenty four hours than the day long marathon of A Christmas Story on TNT every fucking year and took more shots from downtown than Stephan Curry. His tonsils are now seventy percent semen at this point from all the ways he trots himself out for the XWF universe just to show his special trick where he sucks and blows at the same time.

Go back to playing third clarinet in your high school band, fucking tryhard, step off of the mighty Bourbon. I'm going to rip your shoulder blades out from behind you and control your arms like the fucking meat puppet you are, making you clap as you scream my name. "Robbie, Robbie, please, stop doing this to me". You're going to beg as I rip your hip bones out from your sides, and control your legs like the meat puppet you are, and have you dance me a funny little jig or something as you scream my name. "Robbie Bourbon, sir, please make it end." You're going to struggle, and squirm, as I pull your spinal column out of your asshole and start playing on it like a xylophone, controlling your every motion like the massive fucking meat puppet you are, making you whistle your farts and sneeze out of your asshole, in between bouts of bodily failure you just pleading my name. "Robbie Motherfucking Bourbon, finally put an end to me so I can end the suffering!" That's when it hits, wham, that fatal Robbiebomb, and the pinfall, and the coronation of the XWF Hart Champion over the bloody mess that was Brandon Moore.

Then I'ma just toss your worthless corpse overboard for the fucking orcas to fight over.