The scene opens with a shot of three men on horses entering a deserted little town in New Mexico, the bottom of your screen flashes the year 1862. They dismount from their horses and head into the abandoned saloon. As the sun shines down on this roughshod ghost town, a glistening beam of light shines off the chests of the three cowboys.

Sheriff badges. 

There’s only one place he’d be hiding…

The old outlaw saloon.

Well boys, we got a job to do.

The three admittedly handsome law bringers look between each other nervously, as if they know they are in for a shootout. Two of the good guys check their sidearms and load them up while the head honcho pulls a Winchester rifle out of his horse’s sling.

You really think you’re going to need your big fatty to take this bastard out, Sheriff?

The head honcho turns back to his deputy with a worried look.

Honestly, I’m hoping we don’t need more. This bastard’s rap sheet is as long as his new moniker. He’s wanted for robbing every bank from here to San Antonia! He even robbed those poor missionaries at The Alamo! They say he’s shot dead a half dozen U.S. Marshalls and Sheriff’s deputies. He’s a bad news bear, he’s no good, and he damn sure ain’t welcome in these parts. If we don’t put him down now, he’s going to weave a trail of destruction across the entire New Mexico territory.

Oh, jeez, dudes, I just have this little side-pistol!

The Sheriff puts a comforting hand on his deputy's shoulder.

You’ve been a good officer.

Dude, what?!

Give him all you’ve got.

With a deep breath, a hearty sigh, and a collective prayer the three do-gooders walked towards the saloon intent on bringing a bastard to justice. The head honcho cocks the hammer on his Winchester rifle before turning back to give his deputies a set of final instructions.

If I don’t make it out of this alive, I want you two to raise my son like he’s yours.

For sure, dude- I’ve been looking forward to banging your lady pal for years- I can be your kid’s new stepdad!

That’s not what he means!

The camera stays outside the saloon as Sheriff Ravin and his deputies pass through the withered batwing doors of the bar. As the barrel of the rifle hits the left door it falls off its hinges and crashes through the rickety floorboards. This causes the deputies to look down nervously, but they continue on nevertheless, bound by their duty and their oath to clear the wild west of bastardy. The camera flips back to a shot of the front of the saloon. All is quiet again, that is until the gunfight kicks up, into what sounds like a full-blown battle for nearly half a minute, afterward, the silence becomes deafening. That’s when Bobby Bourbon, holding a bag full of money, jumps out of the plate glass window in the front of the saloon. One of the Sheriffs walks out the front door of the saloon only to be shot dead by Bobby Bourbon who had hopped onto one of the Sheriff’s horses. Riding it out of the town as Bobby holds his brand new Winchester rifle up high.





The hot desert sun beats down on a lone rider and his steed as they cross into the New Mexico territory. With nary a soul around, the pale white horse and its jockey ride on a path unseen through the sandy dunes. The unmistakable clanging of a shotgun slapping against hardened leather is heard with each gallop of the white bronco. The rider pulls up on the reins when, out of nowhere, a young boy appears in front of the bronco’s path.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAHHHH THERE BESSY!

The white horse pulls up just in time to avoid a fatal collision with the small boy. Still, the child is so spooked by the charging bronco that he falls back into the sand with a shrieking expression. The horse’s hooves fall back onto the ground just in front of the child. The lone rider tips the brim of his black hat up to reveal the hidden face of the notorious NICKLE EYES!

You’re not supposed to get in my way, Kiddo, but since you have….I think I got a pair of nickels for ya!

The terrified child rushes to their feet before breaking into a dead sprint away from the outlaw rider. Nickle Eyes cocks a sick grin before ducking his head and digging his heels into the ribs of his bronco. The horse takes off right after the boy, quickly making up the lost ground!

Come back! I just want to give ya some NICKLES!

The young boy runs up a sandy hill and we can see just over the dune there sits a lonely home, a Korean home, otherwise known as a Hanok! The boy sprints into the front door of the home while screaming some incomprehensible gibberish, and Nickle Eyes is just a few gallops behind!



A commotion can be heard inside the Hanok as Nickle Eyes guides his horse over towards a conveniently placed post. The outlaw hops off the pale white bronco before hitching it to the post and giving it a comforting scratch behind the ears.

Oh this won’t take long, Bessy….I just hope I have enough nickels for everyone in there!

The lone rider steps into the hanok, which is decorated with portraits of Kim Jong Un, Kim Jong il, and Kim Jong Sun on every wall. As Nickle Eyes walks through the home he keeps his hand on the holster of his pistol, ready to draw and shoot at anything that moves.

Come on out…I know you’re in here…

As Nickle Eyes rounds a corner he comes into the kitchen of the Hanok. Beneath the kitchen table, the young boy can be seen cowering in fear. Beside him cowers his mother, who is dressed in a classic red and yellow Chosŏn-ot. Nickle Eyes cracks a smile at this welcome sight.

Well what do we have here…

The bastard reaches under the table and grabs the woman by her black hair. He yanks her out onto the kitchen floor, causing her child to scream in horror. Nickle Eyes pushes the woman’s head to the kitchen floor before placing his knee on her neck. He pulls her hair back and forces the innocent woman to stare into his eyes.

Tell me where he is!

Who? Who?

Nickle Eyes slaps her across the face with a rough backhand. Then, he unholsters his pistol and presses the steel barrel against her lips. Her son screeches like a banshee from under the table, but his cries do no good. THAT bastard is here, and he’s doing really fucking bad shit.

Stop talking like an owl, bitch! Tell me where Kim is!

The child and the mother look petrified at the sound of the word ‘Kim’.

Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt my Kim either!

Nickle Eyes looks a bit confused as the woman gestures back toward her son.

Wait…so who’s Kim?

I’m Kim, my son’s Kim, we’re all Kim! Please just let us go!

While keeping his knee on the woman’s neck, the outlaw holsters his pistol and pulls out a sketch drawing from his waistband. Nickle Eyes squints at the drawing, then back at the boy. He shrugs before taking his pistol back out and pointing it straight at the child.

But before he pulls the trigger, he hears the front door of the Hanok open.

KIM! HELP!

Nickle Eyes turns around as he hears quickly approaching footsteps. With his knee still on the woman’s neck, he turns the barrel of the pistol towards her head as he grins at the man walking through the foyer.




Well there you are, Kimmy. I’ve been looking all over for ya.

Nickle Eyes snarls at the man in the foyer, the man can be seen giving a huge gulp.

We can surely talk this out…just, just let my family go!

The bastard looks down at the terrified woman under his knee, then back at the petrified child under the table. He sports a cocksure grin before simply shrugging, then standing up off the Korean woman. The mother and the boy immediately leap to the feet and run over to hug the man of the hanok. They wrap their arms around their patriarch for a few sweet moments, until they hear the cocking of a six-shooter.

That don’t look like going to me.

Go upstairs and wait for me…it’ll be okay…

The man gives a kiss to his woman and his child before they flee to the bedrooms on the second floor of their hanok.

What is this all about? A mad man, just waltzing into my house like this!

Got a contract to kill ya, bub. Simple as that. I sin for cash, so you’re the one paying the ultimate price.

Nickle Eyes lines up the shot and closes one eye as he stares down the sights of the steel revolver.

Wait, no! Don’t do this!

Too late, already accepted the contract. Once I’m paid to do something, I do it.

I can pay more! Supreme Leader has given me enough money to build a colony out here, but it can all be yours! I’ll give you whatever you want!

Nickle Eyes lowers his sidearm and the man in the foyer starts to look immediately relieved. Of course, that only shows how naive he truly is.

Shoot…I’ll bite.

Kim wipes the sweat from his brow before gesturing for Nickle Eyes to follow him into the living room. Kim then opens up a desk drawer full of north Korean paper money. Nickle Eyes looks none too pleased.

This is all yours now! Just go kill whoever put this hit out on me, and we’ll call it all even! You can even keep the money they gave you on top of it all!

Well I always planned on that…

The bastard leans his shoulder against the wall as he places a sturdy hand on his holstered six-shooter.

So…you want me to take out Smokin’ Bob? He’s a high-value target. You got anything else worth a shit around this little dojo?

It’s not a dojo, it’s a-

Nickle Eyes taps his sidearm and Kim quickly gets the picture.

Uhhhh uh..yeah, yeah I have more valuable things!

The man gestures for the bastard to follow him over to a metal chest tucked away in the corner of the room. Kim opens it up, revealing an insanely epic collection of Yu Gi Oh cards, but like, the old-school Egyptian ones according to the manga, because this is 1862, and anime shows didn’t exist on Cartoon Network yet. The cosmos burn in horror!(<---hidden small text)

But wait….did you say SMOKIN’ BOB put this bounty on my head?

Kim gasped in shock as Nickle Eyes nodded his head yes and slipped one very special Yu Gi Oh card into his pocket.

Sure did….any idea why he’d do that? All he said to me was something about ‘taking you out of the hunt for the gold’.

Kim placed his hands over his chest and stumbled backward, nearly falling over from shock.

Oh no….I thought he was on my side…he must have given the location of the gold to Flynt and Flynt alone! We were supposed to be a team, damn it!

Gold, you say?

Smokin’ Bob made a fortune selling slaves to tobacco plantations in the Caribbean, but when the civil war broke out, he hid his treasure so that neither side could confiscate it for the war effort! He said he was going to tell Flynt and I the location of the gold, so that we could retrieve it for him after the war…but he must have only told Flynt! Why I have half a mind to go d-

BANG

A single shot blasts through Kim’s throat. His hands go up to the bloody hole before he looks at Nickle Eyes in shock. When he finally collapses to the ground, dead, the bastard outlaw can’t help but laugh.

Hahaha you ain’t gonna do shit anymore, bub! Not after this!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Nickle Eyes turns around just in time to see the young boy sprinting downstairs with a gun in his hands! The bastard chuckles to himself as the young boy starts charging at him with the small sidearm. Charlie farts. A huge massive, loud one. Everyone stops. Charlie looks around.

Excuse me.

From off camera, we hear the director, Barney Green.

Feel better? Can we go back to recording this super depressing scene?

The boy looks at Charlie.

"Look, I know you're just now getting your SAG card but try to be professional."

Charlie nods dejectedly.

Action!

The boy’s mother starts running down the stairs, chasing after him and pleading for him to stop, but she’s too far behind.

Please! No! It’s just a toy!

Nickel Eyes extends his pistol out towards the child as they take their first swing with the sword.

BANG

~The following description has been censored for graphic depictions of dying children, although the child actor would have earned a Grammy for his performance if it had made the theatrical cut~

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!

The mother collapses atop her dying son, holding his face in her hands as his blood gushes out onto her clothing. Tears drip down their ears, and the woman lets out an even more bestial howl when she sees her husband dead on the kitchen floor. Nickle Eyes approaches the fresh corpse of her husband and places two coins on his face; a nickel over each eye of the deceased.

As the woman weeps and moans, and as her son slips into the next unlife, Nickle Eyes bends down and picks up the small sidearm the boy was carrying. The bastard outlaw looks the weapon over and laughs before tucking it into his waistband. He then tucks his hands into his pockets, only to realize that he is now out of nickels.

Looks like I only have two left…a shame, really.

The bastard walks towards the woman and punts the bitch in the face, sending her flying across the room. He then turns down towards the dead child, and drops a nickel over each of his eyes as well. The mother looks on in horror as Nickle Eyes directs his gaze towards her.

Like I said….I’m all out of nickels. That means you and I get to have some real fun!

The woman shrieks and tries to run up the stairs, but Nickle Eyes grabs her by the hair on the back of her scalp before dragging her down the stairs and out the front door of the hanok, away from the corpses of her family members, away from her home. The outlaw drags her all the way to a tree set some thirty or forty meters away from the scene of the murders. Then, he sets to stringing her up.

She screams and pushes but trying to fight him off only made Nickle Eyes more excited. He headbutted the woman repeatedly, they both started bleeding all over each other until the woman finally lost consciousness. The outlaw cracked a big ol’ grin as he slipped the noose over her neck and hung her up from the tallest tree in sight.

Some folks who had heard the commotion came to gather around, local farmers and the like. They looked petrified by what they saw, but none dared to until the woman after Nickle Eyes took one look at them. The bastard spits a big fat loogie on the ground in front of the common folk.

Any one of you tries to get her down, then you’re all hanging up there with her!

The bastard outlaw fired four more shots from his revolver into the air, completely emptying the cartridge and causing the gathered crowd to scatter every which way. He grinned to himself as he reupholstered his pistol and pulled out a big opium cigar. He lit a match and sparked the gar’ before flicking the lit match onto the hanok.

As Nickle Eyes hopped into the saddle and rode off on his pale white steed, the hanok behind him suddenly burst into flames. The bastard took three big puffs of his opium gar’ before looking into the camera and giving us a deadpan wink.





The scene transitions again. This time we see Bobby Bourbon walking as the hot New Mexico sun beats down on him in the desert. He trips over a hidden rock in the sand and falls down a monstrous dune. In the process of rolling down the dune, he drops his Winchester rifle, but not the bag of money. As Bobby goes for his gun a shot rings out. The camera pans to see a man mounted on horseback.

Hold it right there, Partner. You’re surrounded, It’s not a smart idea to go for that gun.

A man from behind a large rock steps out of hiding. Along with another man from inside the sand. What an elaborate way to hide. How long were they there? It doesn't really matter, it does however stop Bobby from moving towards the gun. The man from behind the rock walks up to Bobby with Bobby’s wanted poster.

It’s him! I’m sure of it.

The man begins to tie Bobby’s hands behind his back.

It’s not your lucky day is it, son?

The man with the wanted poster.

This will be the most money we’ve ever made turning someone in.

Too bad you’re not going to be the one fucking turning him in.

Out of nowhere, a man shows up with a cigar hanging from his mouth.

Oh, yeah, mister?

That’s goddamn right.

Then who is?

Me.





The man on the horse turns to point his rifle at TK but it’s too late. TK shoots the three men down quicker than a hiccup. He begins walking toward Bobby Bourbon who has a smug look on his face.

So… How much are you worth?

Bobby smiles as TK gets closer.

Two thousand dollars.

Goddamn right, two thousand dollars, it’s time to get fucking paid.

Wait, you can’t… I got money.

Correction… I’ve got money.

You son of a bitch. Just, you, wait! When I get free I’m going to kill you!

TK hoists Bobby horizontally onto the deadman horse. TK gets on his own horse and leads Bobby’s horse with its reigns. They ride for almost a full day in the blistering sun before arriving at the nearest town. Once they enter the town you hear Bobby cussing at TK again.

You Bastard, I’ll kill you! I swear I will!

TK in front of the US Marshals office.

I’ll make you a deal. Just let me go!

TK dismounts his horse while Bobby pleads for his life. TK walks over and pulls Bobby off his horse. Bobby turns toward TK.

Come on, man, we can make a deal or something.

No, we can’t.

Bobby spits in TK's face. This action causes TK to push Bobby to the ground, face first. As TK walks into the US Marshal. Just mere moments pass before the Lawman comes out.

Come here, you!

The Lawman turns Bobby around on the ground. Unrolls a wanted poster and moves Bobby’s face closer to it.

Fuck you pig!

Yep.

The Lawman tosses Bobby’s head to the ground.

That’s him. Come and get him, Boys.

Two more Lawdogs come out of the office. You see TK putting money in his duster’s inner coat pocket.

You sold me out! You won't get to enjoy that money

The two Lawdogs start dragging Bobby inside. Some time passes as the shot of a rope is tied around the lone tree in the center of town.

Wanted in nineteen counties-

The shot rolls down the rope showing Bobby’s neck in a noose. As the camera pulls back to show the man speaking, you see Bobby is sitting on a horse with his hands tied behind his back.

-of the state, the condemned is found guilty of the crimes of murder, armed robbery of citizens of the state, armed robbery of banks and post offices, horse theft,-

As the crimes of Bobby Bourbon are read off, TK walks from behind a building with his horse by his side and begins looking on in awe.

-theft of holy relics of churches, arson of a US Marshals building, extortion, obscenely obstructive conduct, receiving and selling stolen goods, passing counterfeit money, and perjury.  By the power of the state invested in us, we sentence the accused Bobby “The Sultan of Smacktalk” Bourbon-

TK mutters to himself.

Known as the King.

-to hang by the neck until he is dead. May god have mercy on his soul. PROCEED!

The Lawman standing behind Bobby’s horse raises a whip but before he can snap it a shot rings out. The camera swings to show TK with a rifle shooting the rope above Bobby’s head, spooking the horse. As the horse rides away with Bobby on it TK shoots everyone who was watching Bobby being condemned to die. Once they’re all dead TK gets on his horse and rides off in the same direction as Bobby. The scene fades with a Wwwooooooooosssshhhhh.

A fat old man in Truth and Consequences sitting in his rocking chair took a big long puff of his magic cigar before exhaling the flavored smoke. He rocked back and forth on the deck in front of his home, watching the sunset as the day passed and a new moon began to rise. As he sat and reflected on his day, he let the finest Virginia tobacco fill his spotted lungs with cherry-flavored cancer, providing some much needed relief to his stressful life. The tasty smoke was pulled into his mouth then pushed out through his nose, over and over again, until the cigar was nearly down to a stump. As the fat old man went to ash the cigar, he accidentally brushed the cherry tip against his fine suitcoat, burning a hole clean through!

Oh god damn it- this suit is for hand warshin’ only! How am I ever going to get this fixed up?! This might be the worst damn day of my whole year!

The clumsy smoker worked himself into a flustering rage as he dropped his cigar to the ground and stood up out of his chair, brushing the remaining ash off of his bulging stomach. That’s when he heard the outlaw cock his gun.

What the-

You might want to sit right the fuck back down, partnah’.

Nickle Eyes stood just off the deck, pointing his gun right at Smokin’ Bob through the slats on the deck’s siding. Smokin’ Bob looked mighty pissed about the presence of his sudden visitor.

Dangnabbit, what is the meaning of this!

You know I always have to fulfill my contracts. When I say I’m going to take someone out, I have to do it. Say what you will about me, but I’ve always been a man of my word.

What the hell are you talking about? I told you to kill that Korean War Criminal!

And I did.

The Nickleman flicks a new Yu Gi Oh card on top of the deck.

But now I have a new contract.

But I haven’t given you a new one yet, hell, you haven’t even collected the bounty on that criminal’s head!

I was planning to just walk past you and get it after we’re done with this little foreplay.

You’re out of your damn mind, boy! I keep my money in a safe, you won’t get a dime, not even a nickel of it!

Oh, really?

Nickle Eyes pulled the trigger anyways.





Ha! Ha! Ha!

Nickle Eyes keels over in laughter as Smokin’ Bob wipes a literal sheet of sweat off of his face.

God damn you boy! You can’t be playing games like that with me, not with your reputation!

Oh, I can’t help myself! You should have seen your face! Ha ha ha!

Nickle Eyes tucks the fake gun into his waistband before walking up the steps and joining Smokin’ Bob on the deck. The outlaw bastard clasps Bob’s shoulder with his hand while flashing a toothy grin.

You didn’t really think I’d kill you out here, for everyone to see, did ya? And before I even collected on my pay? Come on Bob, what are you smokin’ nowadays? You’re out of your mind! Ha ha ha!

Nickle Eyes cocks his head back in laughter as Smokin’ Bob shifts his feet around disgruntledly.

Yeah yeah yeah, hee haw it up. Just come get your bounty and get the hell out of ere’.

Smokin’ Bob opens the door to his house and gestures for the bastard to follow. Nickle Eyes tips his hat in courtesy before stepping through the door and into the home. Smokin’ Bob walks over to a hidden compartment on the wall and opens up a wooden panel, revealing a small metal safe.

I got yer money right here…

Lot more than just what you owe me, I bet…

Smokin’ Bob looks back at Nickle Eyes suspiciously. The outlaw shrugs innocently.

Oh you know I’m just playing, I’m just having a good laugh at your expense.

Yeah, I know how you like that…

The outlaw’s Nickle eyes can’t help but drift over to a pair of knee pads sitting on the dining room table, laying next to a handwritten note.

Oh…and what do we have here?

Nickle Eyes picks the knee pads up and smells them before his face cringes. He looks down in disgust at the handwritten note, but it’s completely illiterate gibberish, so he can’t understand a lick of it.

I think I know whatYOU like now…what kinda midnight doll left you this little shindig?

Smokin’ Bob can’t help but crack a smile as he sees the kneepads of his favorite whore being waved around.

Oh, those belong to that foul whore Janie Myst from the Meat Clowns brothel. God I love the way she works that flabby body of hers. I was just telling Marcus Flynt the other day about Janie, letting him know how she will suck on any part of your body for just a handful of nickels. I gave her a whole Benjamin once and she’s been in love with me ever since! It’s just a darn tootin’ shame she had to hit the circuit with her traveling whoreshow and put out for cowboys all across the west. But my buddy Flynt said he was going out to see the Meat Clown circus for himself, and he even said he’d give her another benjamin from me!

The outlaw raised a curious eyebrow as he thought back to his earlier conversation with the Korean criminal.

You tell Flynt a lotta’ personal things like that? A lot of secrets, and the sort?

Well, I suppose you could say that.

Interesting.

Uh-huh…

Smokin’ Bob whispered curiously to himself as he unlocked the safe and pulled out a thick wad of cash. The cost of a man’s head must not be cheap these days. Smokin’ Bob offers the money over to Nickle Eyes, but the outlaw bastard seems yet again distracted by something else in the room. He points up at the mounted weapon of warfare hanging off the wall.

What’s that?

Oh, that thing? That’s my kilij. An oriental specialty, it’s one of my most prized possessions. The legends say this kilij was wielded by a great Turkish janissary who- wait, what are you doing? No, don’t touch that!

But it was too late. Nickle Eyes was already placing his greedy mitts all over the prized blade.

It cost me a fortune to get that!

And I might just make a fortune with it.

Hey, wait just a damn minu-

Smokin’ Bob couldn’t finish his sentence before the blade ripped through his facial tissue and sent him collapsing to the floor. Smokin’ Bob went to scream, but the sharpened blade of the kilij sliced clean through his vocal chords before he even got the chance. The fat old man began twitching and crying on the floor, as his life passed before his blood-covered eyes. Nickle Eyes hopped on top of him and laughed like a madman, hacking and slashing away at every inch of his face with the once-pristine blade.

I told you, Smokin’ Bob…I always finish out my contracts.

Nickle Eyes cracked a heartless smile as he stepped off the dead man and began to wipe his blade clean against his clothing. The outlaw bastard reached into his pocket and pulled out two nickels, laying one over each of the dead man’s eyes, before he set off to ransack the bounty giver’s homestead.

On a cliffside, miles outside of Truth and Consequences New Mexico, TK and Bobby are splitting up their last haul. Smiling grins are plastered across their faces as TK counts out their earnings with glee. Trading giddy giggles and merry merriments, the two bastards sit comfortably above the law, looking down upon the so-called ‘civilized settlements’ visible in the desert valley below.

A thousand for you.

TK counts out a thousand dollars and hands it to Bobby.

A thousand for me.

TK counts another thousand out.

Five hundred for you.

Counting out the next five hundred TK asks,

Know how much you’re worth now.

Three thousand.

TK hands over Bobby’s five hundred dollars.

Damn right.

As TK is double counting his money Bobby chimes in.

You know I should be making more considering it’s my neck at the end of the rope.

TK’s left eye twitches before taking his eyes off his money and looking back up to Bobby.

If I didn’t shoot the rope I could keep all of it. That’s why we split shit fifty-fifty just like everything else.

TK immediately goes right back to triple counting his money, as if the conversation has now been settled once and for all. Bobby thinks it over, then shrugs.

I guess you’re right, how far until the next town again?

Should be right over that fucking dune over there.

TK points to the west, towards a large series of hills far off in the horizon. Bobby squints into the setting sun as he tries to catch a glimpse of where their journey will take them next.

Are you ready to go?

Bobby turns back to TK and nods his head before offering his hands to TK so that he can be restrained. TK waits for Bobby to turn around so that he can tie his hands behind his back again, to really sell the image of a bounty hunter bringing a bandit to justice.

Can I ride on the horse the right way this time?

Smirking, TK replies.

That wouldn’t be believable at all, would it?

Bobby rolls his eyes and looks down at TK in disbelief.

Come on, man…

TK shrugs nonchalantly.

I could always lead you into town riding my horse but then you’ll have to walk into town.

Damn it. Alright.

Bobby shrugs in meager acceptance of the compromise.

At least it’s just over the dune this time and you won’t get caught off guard by other dudes trying to collect our bounty.

Giving a big sigh TK helps Bobby onto the horse, straddling the horse horizontally. TK grabs Bobby’s horse’s lead, walks over to his horse, and starts heading to town. The scene fades to Bobby looking bored at the end of a hangman’s noose.

Wanted in twenty counties-

The camera pans out from Bobby, catching Nickle Eyes walking out of Smoking Bob’s front door holding a pair of knee pads. Nickle Eyes takes a big whiff of the knee pads, only to visibly cringe and damn near vomit from their foul stench.

-of the state, the condemned is found guilty of the crimes of murder, armed robbery of citizens of the state, armed robbery of banks and post offices, horse theft,-

Nickle Eyes walks past Bobby who’s still strung up, and cocks a curious brow in his direction. The bearded bastard then heads for a nearby carriage.

-theft of holy relics of churches, arson of a US Marshal’s building, extortion, obscenely obstructive conduct, receiving and selling stolen goods, passing counterfeit money, perjury, and evading the law.

The carriage driver turns over to Nickle Eyes and greets him as he approaches,

I don’t know why you made me use this horse with my carriage. My ol’ reliable always got the job done.

Because I paid you to. Now shut up and get me the hell out of this town, and quick!

The driver looks over at Bobby who’s about to be lynched for crimes he may or may not have committed (but definitely would have). The driver takes firm hold of the horse’s reins before spitting in disgust towards Bobby’s direction.

I’m glad that man is going to hang.

Nickle Eyes with a twinkle in his eyes responds to the driver.

Not every man that deserves to die does.

The bearded bastard looks over and sees TK in the distance.

And that man has a mullet-headed angel looking out for him.

Nickle Eyes gets into the carriage, that his pale white bronco is now hooked up to, and begins the long ride out of town. The scene transitions back to Bobby Bourbon on a noose as the carriage of the bearded bastard is heard leaving in the background.

With the power of the state invested in me, I sentence the accused Bobby “The Sultan of Smacktalk” Bourbon to hang by the neck until he is dead. Let’s get this over with. PROCEED!

The gathered crowd goes wild when the sentence is announced. It looks as if the entire town has showed up and made a party out of this hanging. There are families having picnics, little girls dancing in dresses, and elderly women playing board games such as WORD COUNT together. The crowd has been giddy with anticipation all day, just licking their chops and waiting for the moment they could watch a man die. They justified this to themselves on moral grounds, but truly it was always for their own entertainment and sense of moral superiority.

The judge slaps the horse, and it takes off running. The crowd goes wild, before becoming deathly silent, as TK takes a loud potshot at rope holding Bobby up. The crowd starts to scatter at the sudden burst of gunpowder, but the bullet only grazes the rope. The rawhide binding doesn’t snap, and Bobby is still hanging before TK can get off another shot. On the second shot the bullet connects with the rope and Bobby drops to the ground thankfully.

Mothers scoop their children into their arms as they try to flee the scene. Old women fall to the ground and are trampled by younger, more fertile females. Single men and incels look around in search of a woman to protect, yet still, even now, they’re facing rejection…and the long barrel of TK’s rifle!

What’s the matter? You motherfuckers don’t think it’s so entertaining when YOU’RE the ones on the fucking chopping block?!

TK shoots everyone left in the center of town, who was too slow or stupid to flee. After the body of the last victim hits the ground, TK jumps on his horse and rides over to Bobby with another horse in tow. Bobby quickly hops onto the charging steed as the duo escape town once again.





Your television fades to a behind-the-scenes look at The Bad, the Bad, and the really fucking Bad. The three Bastards are mounted on horseback.

Look, we Bastards have one rule. No women, no children.

Charlie rolls his eyes and smirks.

Riiiiiiiiiiight.

All our fucking opponents are women, yeah, I said it.

Okay, okay, right, plus I shaved one of them bald last time. And now that I think about it, I think the first time I slung Dolly around she was thirteen, so, uh, I guess while we have no moral standing we at least have a moral compass, right?

Bobby nods, trying to convince himself. TK gestures to Charlie to go along with, rolling his fingers with a circular wrist motion while nodding.

You want me to just go with that?

Please?

I don’t know, I mean…

I mean I don’t hear you taking a lap, Charlie.

I don’t want to.

Charlie grins.

Attaboy.

Bobby reaches into his pocket and retrieves a little baggy. He pulls out a cookie. Charlie opens his mouth and receives it.

Did you just reward this man with a cookie?

Sure did. A hashish cookie, to be exact!

Bobby nods.

So, about these bitches.

You know when I saw Dolly and Jenny booked together I thought I was seeing double; those blonde cunts are fucking spitting images of each other. That’s a real shame for Dolly, and a huge boon for Jenny!

That’s an insult to spitting.

And images! I swear this is the only blonde twin-on-twin porno I never want to see….ahh who am I kidding? I’d love to see those bitches getting all up in the mud, their blonde hair getting dirty, their pubes getting ripped out by each other’s teeth, yeaaaahhhhh.

Blonde? That bitch, Jenny, doesn’t have hair anymore. Plus, I don't think that was her natural color anyway.

I don’t think we should talk about Muddy getting in Dolly’s pubes, we’re, uh, family friendly-ish.

Damn, Bobby shaved her pubes too?! That’s fucking sick, Bobby, did you sell all those crabs to the Red Lobster or something?

Yeah, I did.

Bald as Lux.

Bald as her fucking waist, am I right boys? If you want to see gross, Bobby, then I’ll just DM you the tape I have of Barney shoving his dick into a vacuum cleaner!

Bruh, I saw him sodomize himself.

Oh, you subscribe to his Only Fans too? That shit’s wild as fuck! He’s a damn icon, like one of them ‘Meat Clowns’, you know, those online freaks that stick their cocks and clits inside of fucking cheese graters to make dipshits on the internet laugh!

I got a gift sub.

TK looks at both the other two Bastards like, “Why?”

There ain’t no goddamned doubt to the dominance we can demonstrate, when them bitches hit the ring they’ll wish they were out of state, we’re going to serve them a shit sandwich on sandpaper on a fresh poisoned plate, it’s time for us here Regulators…

Bobby points to TK and Charlie, his eyes widening.

To Regulate.

I’m no one’s kitchen bitch, Bobby! I’m not serving anyone shit except my boot up their ass and my cock through their fucking septum- that’s the only way people around here are ever going to smell what the fuck I’m cooking!

Then you can work front of the house, geeze.

And you can keep all your Libby Big Government ‘regulations’ to yourself, you sumbitch, because where I come from I have the freedom to whip everyone’s ass six ways to Sunday however I damn well, please!

The Regulators were, uh, anti-government.

Well then I’m raising the ante on this government even further! I’m all the fuck in on this one, boys! I’ll put my life on the line for this Bastard shit I got tatted-

Matching tatted!

Bobby and Charlie high-five.

Big toe tats for life, cuz we’re always stomping out the competition! Taste DE FEET, bitches!

Bobby and Charlie hold their feet up, we see they both have little tattoos that make their toes look like people, with almost no reference to being Bastards. None, actually.

CN: Now, every match I enter will be a handicap match, as long as I have these little toe people on my side!

Mine stays tucked in, I wear socks.

Oh Bobby, you and your tucking. I bet you even sleep under blankets like a little princess!

For 13 hours a night, yes.

There’s only 7 hours in a day Bobby, and if you’re doing that 24 times a week then you’ll be plenty well rested to whoop ass and take names next Warfare!

Of fucking course I will, since when ain’t I? I wake up, do some yoga, a little lifting, eat, then I like to stump the body, keep it on edge, and eat again, then I run up and down a shit ton of fucking stairs like a madman. Then, after the first hour, I go to the hot tub and just get loosened up. Then I swing a hammer into a tire for five hours, watching YouTube trash like the stupid XWF Podcast, and I insulted it so it’s not shameless self promotion, then you just gotta get back in that hot tub and eat two entire meals! Charlie, you’ve trained with me at the dojo, you even whacked that punching bag with an axe handle for like two entire hours!

You know Bobby, the most intense part of your training is all that damn edging you do.

I love gardening.

You're a weed whacker for sure, Bobby, and a pro at that! Whacking you whack those weeds at the dojo for hours at a time was almost a transcendent experience! It really shed light on why Tee-Kay…

Ahem, it’s TK.

Right, and that’s why he loved being your tag-team partner so much. You were whacking here and whacking there, you’re liable to whack anyone anywhere!

I live that Whack-A-Mole life! Anyhow, when I brought up Regulating and shit, I figured, you know, we roasted Dolly and Jenny and Marky. Between the three of them Flynn has, and I don’t know this for a fact, but Marky has the cleanest vagina out of the three of them, and isn’t even the biggest pussy, why else would you hear a hollow sound like a fucking jug band was playing whenever Jenny Myst set foot in the open air? We have Dolly, who is just a subdued, self important little thing who thinks she can pretend to sound like a Bastard but actually deliver none of the taste or is even sustaining. Bastard-Zero, brought to you by Dolly Waters, a brand so bland across the land that people just cast it from their hand.

Quit bullshitting, Bobby- that sounds like a sponsorship deal, and we all know Dolly Waters can’t get any of those! She’s too fucking flakey, she’ll miss the damn commercial shoot, that’s why no sponsors want to book her for shit! She’s got a pretty face but you can’t even market it, cause the bitch won’t sit still long enough for you to get a photo.

Dolly Waters? Pretty? Hold the fuck up, we have different tastes then. Dolly Waters looks like a dog’s asshole got infected by another dog’s asshole. Dolly Waters looks like the beginning of a traffic jam, unfortunate and not at all what you wanted in your day. Dolly Waters is what most children describe when asked about someone who might want to hurt them and is a dangerous stranger. Dolly Waters looks like if a fart took form. Out of another dog’s asshole.

Well she’s young, ain’t she? About my oldest daughter’s age? That’s all I need! Shit, I was still willing to fuck Lycana even after you boys and Marf all had your ways with her! All I need to find to get down and dirty is a fuckable wet hole or even just a moist one- and shit, nowadays when I see Mark Flynn, all I see is a soggy pussy just screaming to get FUCKED!

Well you should take a cold shower then, we’re going in there to beat them up, not seduce them.

There’s no seduction needed when you’ve got brute force on your side, Bobby! I tried playing too many mind games with Mark Flynn last time, but that boy ain’t got no fucking mind to play with, so I need to try a different approach! So this time, I’m bringing my Louisville Slugger down to the ring and I’m shoving it up his fucking cockhole until he bursts! I wonder what he’s going to SOUND like!!!!!

For Christ’s sake Charlie, me and Bobby are no good, we’re as bad as they come…but fuck, you’re like, really fucking bad. I don’t even think we’re allowed to air that kind of raunchy shit on BastardNet!

Jenny thinks she’s crazy, but they ain't crazy, let’s face it, shit, basically they just playin' sick, Jenny ain't shit, they ain't sayin' shit spray 'em, Bobby!

Charlie turns to Bobby expectantly with a nod of the hat.

Wait… I swear to God I’ve heard that before, but with more rhythm!

Yeah… wait, isn’t that an Eminem lyric? Charlie, did you recycle that?

What? Me? Recycle?! Never- I fucking hate the environment! I hope that bitch dies SOONER! Get HOT, bitch! WARM UP ALREADY! God damn y'all, I’m just paying homage to the goats!

Bobby, Charlie, and TK look over to the goat farm as the camera zooms out ever so slightly. It turns out, there was a little petting zoo with four goats just off camera! Just behind a chicken-wire fence, we can see three black goats and one white goat. One of the black goats appears big yet small, another goat appears to work out quite a bit as they appear to have a 2-pack of abs, and the other black goat appears to be a doctor of sorts because they have a stethoscope hanging around their neck! These are metaphors, bitch!

Damn. Goats. Reminds me of that goat fucker Muddy Waters, and his little girl too. Why do you think her fucking name is Dolly, for crying out loud!

Bobby shakes his head.

Dolly Waters.

Bobby sighs, rolling his eyes.

What a sad thing to talk about when it comes to Dolly. Somebody who used to have all the promise in the world but now, well, they have nothing! I mean don’t get me wrong a lot of people notice Dolly Waters, but they only notice Dolly Waters because me and Dolly kind of sound the same when we talk. For someone to notice Dolly Waters, she had to start sounding like me. Now I get Denzel Porter thinks Dolly is a great smack talker, well, that guy just hasn’t heard enough of me. But that’s okay because Dolly and I are different in a lot of ways. She sounds like me but she sure does not the fuck act like it.

Bobby sucks his teeth.

You had a shot at the Uni and dropped the ball, sweety, and now Raion Kido is champion. When I lost a championship match you ended up with a bald tag team partner and went on to  lose on warfare to a pack of Bastards. Warfare, you know, that reminds me of home sweet home. The three of you mooks are going against the full might of the Bastards. We have Charlie Nickles, who may be the most dangerous man in all of wrestling. We have the mighty, mighty, Thunder Knuckles who will put you down for half a dollar. Then last, but not least, I come home the Big Bad Big Bad of Big Bads, I come home your Wednesday Night Wrecker. I come not just as a dragon slayer, not just a King slayer, not just a demon slayer, I come as the Slayerslayer! The absolute slayer of slayers, because I slay them in the seats, on the streets, and between the sheets.

Bobby gives his signature Danny Sex wink and smile.

You never have sex in your promos.

Because like some other blistered idiots out there I don't let cameras watch. Boneheaded, numbskulled, and super bald Jenny Myst let the camera record how mediocre she is every fucking second and nobody gives a shit. You could say otherwise but everyone already fucking knows it and so do you. Listen up Curly Sue, you already lost your belt, you already lost your hair, which I will have you know is now being manufactured into pipe cleaners to be sold by BourbCo. That's right, Jenny, I will sell you your hair back! Fifty thousand Xbux. Get back at me before you're shipped to school supply stores worldwide. Whoo-Ee, Mark, you dumped that less-than-subliminal War Criminal to hang out with another goofy foreigner only tryna stay contemporary and the Bald N' Blonde Connection.

Bobby crooks an eyebrow.

You, uh, don't even dislike me or the Bastards all that much, Mark, and you know it. I mean right now the guy you hate the most is Soda Popinski, because as relevant as you want to seem you gotta date yourself too, because your opinion has to be defined by who you are. Mine has to be reckoned with and doesn't need a definer. Now, I gotta be clear, what you did to Criminal? I would commend you, but flat out, even a Bastard wouldn't dare turn on another, no sir. That there is piece of shit territory. Brothers and sisters, those who are in awe of the Bastard, we come today, making conclave. When one comes down to the ring to compete, they risk their ass, but when one comes down to meet the full Bastard battalion, they risk their souls, because we control the points of their very afterlife and have a greater purpose than just whatever they say! Right now, RIGHT FUCKING NOW! You, the people, are welcome to behold as the entire team of Jenny, Dolly, and Marky realize what, the fuck, exactly, and precisely, they have gotten themselves into. It doesn’t matter how messy or organized their camp is, at this point or any other, my brothers and sisters. They can be on the same page or the same Page at the same time with a complete skullfuck and a handy in play. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, hide your children, hide your wife, hide your husband, and hide yourself after that shit is done, but keep them eyes peeled and prepare to be astounded, bastioned, and catered to, I did my ABC’s for all of us. There are three almost legendary competitors facing the full might of the Bastard Legion, and in preparation for such an event, we await the word of the greatest man a Bastard can rely on, Brother Knuckles, show them hell, give them death, allow them sainthood. The crux of it is, though, is before we get the Gospel of the Bastard as delivered from on high, from below, and maybe even sideways, we hear from the revered Reverend Bastard Charlie, and I am proud to be here today amongst Bastards because I am proud my people get the word of the Bastard from a true Bastard given to us from the pure blessings of the Bastard. Bow, kneel, do the hokey-pokey, or even tithe unto the Bastard cause, with blood, money, definitely blood money, but definitely you nor your children as a show of fealty to our cause. Enjoy the freedom, and give thanks for the Bastard that embraces liberty, self-worth, and denial of the pains of everyday life. Blessed is he, who in the name of the Bastard, as I have and we have all definitely fucking abided by at threat of nothing since the threat of anyone, not a Bastard is worth nothing.

TK takes notice, and in accordance, allows the man to speak. Suddenly, the Bastards are seen on horseback, ready to destroy whatever they ride in through. The Nickleman steps forward with a collection plate having appeared in his hands out of nowhere. A sticker that reads ‘HELP A CANCELED WRESTLER - OUT OF WORK’ is stuck to the plate.

No, Charlie, not only are you the Bastard struck unworthily. You aren’t the only Bastard that has come under scrutiny. What fits you into the Bastards is NOT the fact you have hate coming your way, it’s the fact you faced cancelation with consternation among the nation of wrestling fans not fearing damnation. We come to you on behalf of the realms of hell, call us evil all you want but our home sure beats where you dwell. You think we’re rotten to the core, we can tell you’re rotten pussies by the smell, your ass is grass and we will smoke it like it was that Purple Urkel. I’m just a servant, Charlie is the chaplain, but the best has yet to come, the will have y’all befuddled while you’re wondering “ain’t that dude kinda dumb?” But you stupid shits are out of touch so far you’re comfortably numb, but being hungry sucks balls, it’s a shame if we leave you a crumb. Us Bastards come to call! Here we come to all and each! If you can grasp upon what we impart than we have something to teach! We aren’t from CCPE, we aren’t just here to leech, motherfuckers, come, bow thy heads, give credence and reverence to the word brought unto you from the Bastard on high, for he is the Prophet of the Bastard. Brother Knuckles, let us give pause…

PREACH

I know, I know half you fucking bitches are here to see what the fuck is going to fly out my mouth.

TK looks over and sees two gentleman walk into the set.

Who the fuck are these guys?

Jimmy can be heard from off-screen.

They’re from XWFs Standards and Practices team.

Oh, great, fucking awesome. Sit tight boys because this shit is about to be r-

Bobby and Charlie look at each other in shock.

They’re right here dude!

A dickish smile forms on TK’s face.

What? I was going to say ridiculous.

Bobby and Charlie look relieved.

Anyway back on fucking track. Dolly I told your ass last time I’d carry your ass to the finals of the Margarita Mixer and I did just that. Sure, sure, she’ll harp on and on like she always does, that I let her down in the finals to get pinned but she’ll leave you how she was running into the ring to break the count. If I’d have know she’d get tossed out pf the ring I’d have kicked out sooner. Hell, if it was Bobby Bourbon he’d have never been tossed out the fucking ring. I guess, thats what I get for relying on a weak little girl. I’m not going to go keep talking about this cunt because let's face it over the course of the last few months you’re the only person they’ll put me in the ring with. Speaking of weak girls, Jenny Myst is in this match. Why? The fuck has Jenny Myst done? She won the TV Championship, which was vacated by Charlie, from stand-in challenger Centurion. First off, fuck Centurion, that guy can eat a bowl full of dicks.

I gave Jenny the belt because she gargled my balls, bro! Full scrot’ in the back of her throat!

TK looks over at the Standard and Practices guys while Charlie pretends like a whore is sucking his nads off, complete with hands on her invisible head and that classic ‘O’ face.

Take your fucking notes, cock mites. Anyway, Jenny fights some bum who couldn’t hack it here and lost her title. Good fucking job, Jenny, then she weasels her way back into the title situation because.

TK shakes his head.

Who gives a fuck? She picks back up the TV Championship, faces Bobby and by a miracle of GOD she picks up the victory, only to break her own rules. With that said Bobby gets a rematch and slaps the fucking hair off the cunt. That pretty much sums it up. Now, she, like Dolly are back around after getting completely punked the fuck out but hey, They stand a chance now why? Duhhhh, fuck if I know! They think because they got Mark to back them up they’re going be any different in the ring? I think not. They’re literally relying on a guy who just turned on his last partner. Who lets face it has a lot more talent than both of them combined. So in reality they’re just here as window dressing of a bigger fight. That fight is Mark Flynn versus the Bastards. This time it’s a little different too, Mark is pretty much by himself, which is with noting. If you think we can’t handle Mark while pinning on of the other two loser fuckers on his team then you’re sorely mistaken. Jenny Myst is the weak link, it’ll be fun to pop her head like a goddamn grape, while Dolly does what she’s best at, nothing.

Jesus Christ, you and Bobby drone on and on and on forever. You’ve been playing too much word count! You’ve gotta keep it succinct, so that way we can get off this movie set and go fuck some more hookers!

I don’t think you’re anyone to talk about speaking at length about nothing.

I’ll sum up this whole fucking match real quick for ya, how about that?

Jenny Myst is a useless whore that bounced from Daddy Chaos to Daddy Charlie and now she’s been bouncing on Bobby’s dick the last four weeks. By the time this match is over, we’ll probably bounce that bald-headed bitch out of the company!

Dolly Waters hasn’t been good since I cut her from the Carnies, she ain’t won a title since then either! Without Charlie’s Carnies Dolly is nothing, and when the Bastards come to town we’re going to paint that starved cow like a circus clown and ride her skinny ass to victory!

And Mark Flynn? I made him break up his whole tag-team and throw the only real gold he’s ever known in the trash, just by embarrassing his North Korean bitch on Warfare! And now that we’re on Warfare again baby, well, we all know what the fuck’s going to happen!

We got the three mightiest bastards on one side of the ring, and the three prissiest bitches on the other side! How the fuck could we lose?

TK speaks back up.

This is a street fight and we owe Mark a little bit of revenge in the streets and there is no better place than Anaheim, California.

The city of brotherly gang violence! Everyone who tries to duck a bastard in Anaheim gets put on ice, it’s just the way it has to be in these nasty streets.

Whether it’s down Stanley Cup Way, East Katella Ave., or South Douglass Road. These fuckers are about to pay the toll! With that said, let us take a moment, bow our heads and say a prayer for our opponents.

TK bows his head, as does Charlie and Bobby, and the little Bastards around the world know what time it is.

Today, Our opponents will submit to the teachings of the Bastardly Spirit within me, within the Grand High PoohBOB, and within The Nickleman. They will search for salvation and escape, but they will only be brought in front of our Bastarly Father. Once we execute our battle plan on Warfare, we will turn the groans of our fallen opponents into the sweet hymns of worship our Bastardly Father calls for. We thank You for enriching our minds with the blueprint of destruction. I declare that Your Kingdom of Darkness is more powerful than anything these three can muster. I lay down my need to fight this battle alone. I am blessed with the Bastards and I ask that you would defend us as we defend You. Awaken my enemies’ veins as we bleed them dry for their sins against the Bastards. Thank you, Bastardly Father, for revealing our wickedness upon them, they will have a chance to repent after our victory is in hand.

Bobby is shaking his head feeling the word of the Bastard. Charlie’s face looks somber in tone due to the violence that will put on display on September fourteenth.

I rejoice because once they are in your presence they will know the true might of the Bastard. We search the earth for souls willing to accept the calling of Your name. We fight to condemn every human soul that stands in our way. Leaving them in awe of how you hate, from sinners to the righteous alike. I ask that Your hate would grow famous on this earth and that even our most filthy opponents will repent once they learn how powerful you are. In the Bastards name, we prey.

A-Fucking-men.

The three Bastards lift their heads and ride off on their horses to shoot A few Xbux more.

Disclaimer: No animals were hurt during the filming of this promo.